#you big rig 2 of a man you…

[get-hockeyed-idiot]

amidst all the dewvorce… I am truly gonna miss patty maroon

#you big rig 2 of a man you… #patty and the dews will live forever in my heart :( #pat maroon

[sunshinescribes]

The House Always Wins

Part 2 of this fic

Pairing: Sir Crocodile x Fem!Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+)

Warnings: Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Rough Sex, Cunnilingus, (lowkey) Sugar Daddy Crocodile, Crocodile is smug and petty

(edit: realized the original artwork was fanart and I couldn't find the artist's @ to credit them, so I changed it)

Crocodile doesn’t know what to expect when he wanders onto the casino floor of Rain Dinners in search of you. Slot machines chime, playing a catchy little tune with each pull of the lever. Dealers grin and offer words of encouragement, coaxing big-eyed fools into another game with the sweet promise of lady luck’s favor.  

You don’t usually partake in gambling, not keen on the idea of betting away your berries when you know it’s all rigged—and why would you even need to? You never ask for anything, but Crocodile provides. Spoils you even.

He enjoys watching the way your eyes get all big, stunned by the diamond necklace he places around your neck, or the soft gasp that passes your lips when he gifts silk charmeuse and chiffon dresses, designed, and tailored just for you.

Crocodile continues to seek you out, his sharp eyes flitting between the slot machines and card tables. He ignores the curious and lingering looks targeted at him—the smartly dressed patrons who vie for his attention as he continues to search—and then he hears it.

Your laugh, loud and beautiful—music to his fucking ears. He turns.

Crocodile doesn’t expect to see you at the bar, perched on a stool, leaning into a man he doesn’t recognize. Your hand is on his slender arm, your lips pulled into a pretty smile, and laughter escapes again—so lovely and genuine and for someone else.

The man grins at you sheepishly, transfixed on your mouth. It’s so blatant—barely contained, the way he’s staring at you with a mix of adoration and lust.

You must feel Crocodile’s eyes on you because you glance over your shoulder suddenly. Your smile widens, and you exchange a quick word with the mysterious man before hopping down from your seat.

Crocodile is silent as you approach, stone-faced. You grab his arm with both hands and tilt your head towards the man, all while smiling up at him.

“I want you to meet my friend,” you say excitedly, steering him towards the bar.

Crocodile doesn’t catch the name that rolls off your tongue—he can’t seem to hear anything over the sudden ringing in his ears, so sharp it drowns out the sounds of the jingling slot machines and triumphant cheers of those foolish enough to think they’re the winners.

The fond smile that plays on the mystery man’s lip never falls, but Crocodile notices the sudden unease as the man’s eyes land on him. The imposing height, the cold, almost irritated expression he comfortably wears—the golden hook that glints under the blinding casino lights. It’s enough to strike fear in the heart of anyone smart enough to value their life.

And the man is a small thing—average in every sense of the word, Crocodile thinks. The plain clothes, the nervous, uncertain words that stumble from his mouth as he tries to introduce himself. Crocodile doesn’t feign interest—he barely even acknowledges your friend, and that only serves to add to his anxiety.

If it wasn’t for the pitiful look you shoot him, Crocodile would laugh at just how pathetic this man is.

“We both grew up in Coombe,” you explain, glancing back at the mystery man. “I never thought you’d leave the North Blue.”

He must take your surprise as a compliment because he gives you another bashful smile.

“I didn’t either. Guess I finally figured if you could do it, so could I,” he chuckles softly. “Imagine my shock when I saw you here, of all places.”

“Small world,” Crocodile chimes in dryly, drawing your friend’s attention once more.

Crocodile places a hand on your hip, drawing you a little closer to him.“She never mentions much about her home in the North Blue.”

And she never mentioned you. The insult is unspoken, so subtle that he thinks even you don’t catch it.

But it’s also true. You rarely spoke about the North Blue—of the life you had before you entered the Grand Line and ended up in Alabasta. You never mused over an island you once called home, or a lovesick, hairbrained boy you left on it, and Crocodile doesn’t pry. He isn’t particularly interested in knowing, truth be told. He only cares about the life you have now, with him.

The man goes on an excited tirade about how beautiful Coombe is this time of year, about how you used to love the new bloom after winter finally passed, and all the fun you both had in your youth. He can’t help but reminisce, tries to connect with you in the only way he’s able.

“You should visit when you can. Uh—you both should.”

You pretend to consider it, and Crocodile gives little more than an unaffected grunt.

You inquire how long he’ll be staying and recommend shops and restaurants he must visit before leaving. He shamelessly seeks more of your company—your attention—and asks if you could possibly give him a tour.

You promise to check your schedule and follow up, and he beams as if he’s won an invaluable prize. Crocodile’s irritation grows—twists and festers the longer he stands by your side, little more than an onlooker. His frustration isn’t directed at you—you’ve always been friendly, offering a smile where he would surely offer a sneer, but it doesn’t stop his grip from tightening on your hip.

You notice, finally excusing yourself. The man gives you both a soft goodbye, one that Crocodile ignores completely as he whisks you away, and he can’t help the way his lips pull into a smug grin at the quick glimpse of the dejected look on his face. It must hurt him to see you walk away in the arms of another—to know the golden opportunity he thought the world had provided him never existed at all.

“You didn’t like him.”

It’s the first thing you say when you enter Crocodile’s private suite, disappointment dripping in your voice. You weren’t foolish enough to think he would be thrilled, but you thought Crocodile would at least be amicable. 

He shrugs his coat off, placing it on the coat hanger near the door. “He was shameless.”

Your brows furrow, your lips pull into a slight frown…You don’t know? It takes Crocodile by surprise; surely you must. The man is far too obvious; his intentions are impossible to mask.

“He would have taken you right there on the bar if you had let him,” Crocodile scoffs.

You blink, dumbfounded.

“Gage?”

So that’s his name.

Your voice comes out in a high-pitched squeak, taken aback by the sudden accusation. “He doesn’t want to fuck me.”

Crocodile gives a mirthless laugh. You’re so sweet. So naïve. Always offering others the benefit of the doubt.

Crocodile recognized the hunger in his eyes—the longing. He suspects this friend of yours has harped on you for a long time, never quite brave enough to take the chance.

Not even now. By some miracle, he survived the Grand Line, and he still can’t brave his own futile emotions. Crocodile isn’t sure whether to laugh at how spineless the man is or burn with anger at how he even thinks he has any chance of having you.

The dark, ravenous part of him takes high offense.  

Crocodile comes up behind you and dwarfs you with his body as his decorated hand cradles your jaw. “Course he does. Look at you.”

He tilts your head, forces you to face the full-length mirror on the opposite wall. You try to focus on your own reflection, but you can’t help but watch Crocodile when he dips down, pressing a tender kiss to your neck, all while his half-lidded eyes hold your gaze.

“Maybe I should invite him to our room so he can watch me fuck you,” he murmurs against your skin.

You shiver, nearly stumble out of his grasp as his lips trail higher.

“Don’t be cruel...”

Cruel? His offer would be courteous. It would be the closest your lovestruck friend would ever get to your naked form. The only way he would ever know what you sound and look like at the height of your pleasure—how perfect you are, stuffed and babbling through your orgasm.

The cruel thing would be what he truly wants to do—to use his devil fruit powers to turn the man into a withering corpse, forgotten in the endless sand dunes.

“Would you rather he joined?” Crocodile inquiries plainly.

He attempts to come off unaffected…curious, but the wicked voice in the back of his mind nags at him, hisses about feelings that could have been, and still may be.

The man matches your gentle nature, and is somewhat competent, at least to have made it this far from the North Blue. He’s the kind of man who would kneel at your feet if you asked, worship you as if it were his sole purpose—he’d give you a typical life, picturesque in its simplicity, and you would be content.

The thought makes something vicious twist in his gut. It makes time stand still as Crocodile awaits your answer.

“No.” You shake your head softly, meeting his cold eyes in the mirror. “I’ve never thought about him like…that.”

Of course not. What would you want with a sniveling worm? How could you go back to mediocrity after everything that’s been offered to you? The attention of a warlord of the sea—the savior of Alabasta. How could anyone else ever compare?

It’s pathetic how the gluttonous beast inside of Crocodile settles and hums contentedly, knowing that you only want him.

And maybe this is your power he couldn’t recognize before, why he was so unnerved in the beginning—this ability to effortlessly turn sensible men foolish. Even him.

“Only want you.” You turn, your soft eyes trained on him. “Always want you.”

Crocodile captures your lips as the words escape, and you melt into him—mold your body into his until he is all you sense. The heady scent of his sweet cigars mixes with hints of patchouli and cedar—his cologne—it lingers on his fitted clothes, drawing you deeper into his searing kiss.

You feel the bend of his golden hook press into the curve of your back, forcing you to curl into him as he parts your lips with his tongue. You’re caught in a pleasant haze, lightheaded, while Crocodile kisses you like he’s claiming your mouth, making sure that your lips never forget the feel and taste of him—that they never desire another’s.

Crocodile lifts you from the ground effortlessly with his ringed hand, still kissing you hungrily as he shifts blindly through his suite, knowing the layout well enough to stumble into his lavish bedroom. He parts from you with a low groan.

“Lay down,” he orders against your lips, and you comply, sinking into the soft mattress while he looms over you.

The ache you feel in your core blossoms—hurts so good from how desperately you want him—to be wrecked and teary-eyed and a mess for him.

You even go as far as to whine when you notice Crocodile isn’t working to free the fierce erection that strains his dress pants, eager to be lost in your warmth.

“None of that,” Crocodile tuts coyly, lowering to his knees near the foot of the bed. His large hand skims up the length of your thigh, pushing up your dress until it is bunched around your waist, and he can see the evidence of your arousal staining your thin lingerie—another gift.

That creature inside of him purrs gleefully, proud of how well he turns you into a spectacle—a gift of his own to admire and unravel again and again.

Crocodile tugs your panties down your legs, tossing it aside carelessly as his hooded eyes catch on your bare pussy, already slick and ready for him. A deep, guttural noise catches in his throat as you part your legs—eagerly welcome him where he belongs.

“I bet he wonders what you taste like…” Crocodile muses, leaning into your aching slit. A soft gasp passes your lips when you feel the heat of his mouth on your needy cunt, tending to the ache his salacious words and desperate kisses created.

There are rare moments when Crocodile takes you apart slowly, his movements languid and measured, bringing you to the height of your pleasure at an agonizing pace, only to rip it away just when you begin to tip over the edge. And then he continues the process again and again. He leaves you delirious on days like that, wasting the hours away with your body—and perhaps today would be a day such as that if he didn’t feel he had something to prove.

If the desire to plague your every thought didn’t control him like a cruel master.

Your soft whimpers turn to shameless, needy moans, light and airy but loud enough to satisfy the wicked parts of him.

“S’good,” you whine drunkenly, your hips bucking instinctively when Crocodile’s lips latch onto your neglected clit. Your fingers thread into his long hair, pull him even closer, and he groans—it makes you arch painfully as the feel of it cascades through your body and tickles your aching nub.

Each swipe of his talented tongue pushes you closer, making the heat that pools in your stomach metastasize until you’re chanting his name, so close and ready to reward him.

He squeezes your clit with his mouth, sucks your aching bud, and you’re gone—shoved over the edge as pure hot pleasure rips through you, flows from between your legs, and Crocodile laps up your sweetness like a starved man.

You glance down at him through your lashes, eyes heavy, body slowly recovering. Crocodile pulls away from your pretty pussy with a sigh, as if he’s sad to part, and the idea alone makes your core ache with newfound need.

“Always so sweet for me.”

Your release smears his chin. It makes him look depraved and delicious. If you had the energy for it, you’d lift from your spot on the bed and kiss him. Feel the taste of yourself on his tongue, but all you can do is watch him with tired eyes as he rids himself of his clothes, tosses his lavish vest and dress shirt aside haphazardly.

His pants are the last thing to go, and you watched as if caught in a spell, buzzing with anticipation as he palms his hard dick. It’s so pretty, with the tip blushing and spilling precum that glides onto his thick fingers. Crocodile smirks, amused by the enchanted look in your eyes.

“This what you want, darling?” he asks, giving his dick a rough tug that warrants a delighted hiss. You nod—nearly sob—as you continue to watch Crocodile’s hand rub up and down the length of his lovely cock. You feel so empty—the desire to be filled in a way only he’s capable of taking precedence in your mind.

“Tell me,” Crocodile encourages as he shifts to the bed, his large frame casting you in shadows as he hovers over you. That smug smile still plays at his lips and only grows crueler as he grinds his hard length against your needy cunt.

“N-need you. Fuck—need you so—so bad. Baby please—”

The request sounds pathetic, even to your own ears, but it must be exactly what Crocodile wants to hear because he sinks into you the second the term of endearment passes your lips.

A deep grunt rips from his throat and tickles your ear pleasantly as Crocodile drags his fat cock deeper into you. You’re so warm and wet and snug, your velvety walls hugging him like this is where he belongs—where he should always be.

And he’ll admit, there’s no better place than here, between your legs. No better feeling in the whole fucking world—not even the sweet giddiness that builds inside of him each passing day as the fall of the Alabasta Kingdom draws closer. Having you writhing beneath him, breathless and lovely, is incomparable—a sensation he never tires of.

“Always take me so—mmm…well,” Crocodile rasps, transfixed on how your sloppy cunt swallows him over and over and over again. It makes him fuck you harder; drive even deeper. “This pussy was made for me. You were made for me.”

And he thinks perhaps it’s the most honest thing he’s ever said to you. Uncertainty still stirs within him—dread lingers in the corner of his mind, silent and waiting, because you complicate everything. You’re the only person who can placate the ravenous creature within him, feeding its insatiable appetite without it ever growing incurious. It wants everything you have to offer—can’t conceive of feeding from anyone who isn’t you. Not anymore.

Never.

Crocodile pushes your thighs close to your chest, drives his dick even deeper as he continues to pound into you. The sound of his powerful thrusts and your tortured moans is a beautiful symphony, lovelier than the melodic sounds of the stirring sand at dawn.

You have that lost, blissed-out look in your eyes as you blink up at him, words completely evading you as he uses you.

How could your foolish friend ever even dream of having you like this? Think he could possibly do to you what Crocodile has done?

Crocodile feels equally as hopeless as you—is incapable of thinking clearly because a confession he knows he should swallow pours from his lips without warning.

“I’ll fucking kill anyone who tries to take you from me,” he growls, digging the tip of his hook into the mattress, inches away from your head.

You should be…shocked. Unnerved by such a confession. Crocodile doesn’t pretend to be a saint, but he never mutters his murderous intent. He hides behind practiced indifference; let’s others paint a glorious picture of him, never revealing his true nature. You attempt to feign shock for a split second, but you can’t help the way your pussy clenches around him and goes mad at his declaration—some depraved, feral part of you stirring to life.

And the knowledge that a part of you likes this fucked up part of him must awaken something in him, because his thrusts grow brutal, his balls slap against your ass as he fucks you into the mattress like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance to. Crocodile hits deeper, the head of his throbbing dick brushing against that sweet, spongey spot inside of you, and you’re gone before you can even warn him.

You choke out something that sounds like it could be his name, tears trickling down your cheeks as you come so violently that your breath stutters. You shake through your orgasm, squirm beneath Crocodile while he fucks you through it—watching you come apart with wicked fascination and unbridled lust.

He loves how he wrecks you—how you hold onto him for dear life, as if he might slip away.

He’s ruined you, just like you’ve ruined him.

The thought alone is the final push he needs, make his dick throb violently as he explodes inside of you and fills you up the way he knows you crave—the way your perfect pussy deserves. The squelch of his seed mixing with your sweetness is enough to drive him mad. Makes him want to fuck another load into you.

Maybe in a bit, he considers as he rocks his hips sluggishly, riding out the sweet aftershock of his powerful orgasm.

You’re little more than a quivering mess under him. Your eyes are closed, your breathing is ragged…so so beautiful, and Crocodile doesn’t frighten at the tender feeling that blossoms in his chest—a sudden warmth that takes him by surprise yet seems to make all the sense in the world as he stares down at you, all while a pleasant thought crosses his twisted mind.

What’s the harm?

Why shouldn’t I revel in what’s mine?

divider credit @/cafekitsune

#sunny.fic #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x y/n #crocodile x reader #crocodile x you #sir crocodile smut #x reader

[cevansbrat0007]

Hey Brit! Did Andy survive April fools this year, sans any fake spiders in his cabinets?? 💞

Warning: Fluff, April Fool's Day Shenanigans, Minors DNI

A/N: Takes Place in my Growing Pains Series. Not beta'd, all mistakes are my own. Likes, Comments, and Reblogs appreciated.

I'm so glad you asked, especially since I didn't get around to writing a fic the way I had initially planned. Here's what happened:

As you might have guessed, April Fool's is a day that is near and dear to Baby Girl's heart. However, her loving husband, Mr. Andrew Barber, also made it known that he would like to have a spider-free day.

In fact, he actually made a point of emphasizing just how much he would prefer it.

And our girl, who is ever the doting wife, heard him loud and clear. Her poor husband did not want to be subjected to arachnids of any kind. And to be honest, she was fine with that.

But no one said anything about a possessed doll.

With her plan now in motion, she stopped by Target while out running errands to purchase this doll, along with some clear wire and some heavy-duty duct tape. Baby Girl was so filled with mischievous glee that she cackled all the way to the checkout lane.

After that, all there was left to do was wait. Although she did practice just a little. She watched a couple of tutorials and did a brief test run while the kids were out with Grandma. It took her a little bit, but once she got the hang of it she could hardly contain her excitement.

On the big day, Baby Girl knew she had to play it cool. Mostly because Andy woke-up feeling automatically suspicious, on account of the fact that he now has trust issues. All because of her.

It took a while, but by around 2:00pm in the afternoon, she had successfully lulled her Big Man into a false sense of security. So much so that he actually felt safe enough to fall asleep on the couch in his own home.

A rookie mistake.

While he was napping, our Girl quietly busted out the step stool and somehow managed to rig her demon doll to the ceiling fan without waking him. Next she grabbed the corresponding remote before retreating to her designated hiding place.

And then she called Andy's name.

It took a few tries, but the moment began to stir she turned the fan on low and waited to see his reaction. And boy, he did not disappoint.

As soon as that unholy doll began to "fly" around the room, Andy let out a positively terrified scream before trying and failing - not once, but twice - to scramble over the top of the couch before landing on his ass with a resounding thunk.

By the time their kids wandered into the room to see what all the commotion was about, it was to find their Mama laughing so hard she could hardly breathe. And once she managed to stop laughing long enough to explain her little prank to their brood, they got a kick out of it too. Junior and Rory found it especially funny.

Meanwhile, Andy was so put out by the whole ordeal that he didn't speak to his wife for the better part of an hour. Of course they made up later that night. But it doesn't change the fact that that poor man has officially had a new fear unlocked in the form of creepy ass dolls.

Thanks for the ask!

#cevansbrat0007 asks #chris evans x brat!reader #andy barber x brat!reader #chris evans smut #andy barber smut #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x black!reader #andy barber x black!reader #andy barber x black reader #chris evans x woc!reader #andy barber x woc!reader #chris evans imagines #andy barber imagines #cevansbrat0007growing pains series #chris evans x yn #chris evans x y/n #andy barber x yn #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x reader #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #andy barber x you #chris evans x female reader #andy barber x female reader #chris evans x fem!reader #andy barber x fem!reader #chris evans x poc!reader #andy barber x poc!reader

[sokkadora]

we can’t be friends — crosshair x fem!reader

inspired by: we can’t be friends (wait for your love) by ariana grande

summary: a clinic on pabu offers to erase the pain that came along with crosshair leaving the batch, but how will he react once he gets back and sees you with his brother?

a/n: crosshair and the reader never had an established relationship for this fic, but reader had a deep love for crosshair! also NO hunter hate on this page that is my man :P also i might make a part 2 but idk

wc: 2,078

warning(s): angst, no happy ending for this couple bb, flashbacks, memory wiping, reader has poor self/body image, kinda smutty but it's crosshair so, friends with benefits, unrequited requited love for hunter

︿︿︿︿︿︿ ✎ᝰ . . . .

‘You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give “Brighter Days Inc.” the exclusive permission to remove this person from your memory:’

Stopping your pen under the last word, you hesitate.

‘Maybe this was a bad idea,’ you think with a soft sigh, glancing at the woman in the room across from you; one seat for her, and another for her box of memories. Yours sits beside you, the weight of what you’re about to do hits you quickly, and suddenly any notion of even looking at the box makes it feel like a ticking time bomb.

The woman across from you strokes a thumb across what must be her late pets collar, and you quickly revert your gaze down to the sheet of paper again. The tip of your pen hovers over the “No” option, but drifts over to the “Yes” box, checking it off, and finally, signing your name at the bottom of your page.

The necklace dangling over your neck feels like iron against fae skin as a nurse comes out of the back room, door quietly creaking open as she calls your name. You stand quickly, handing her the paperwork and the pen with trembling hands before grabbing the box labeled “Crosshair” and walking inside.

MEMORY WIPE INITIATED

“Please, Crosshair?” You beg sweetly, dragging him across the arcade to a claw machine, finally having a bit of free time on your shore leave. 

You’d been trying to convince him to have a break together with the both of you for a while now, away from the boys and the riff raff of the military, but per usual, he was stubborn about it. He’d offhandedly said how childish it was of you to want to play games with him at an arcade instead of your usual… activities, on shore leave. But you got him to agree, seeing as he can barely ever resist how cute you look when you beg.

“Hellcat, this is ridiculous,” Crosshair crosses his arms and glares down into the machine at the plethora of stuffed animals inside. Your eyes had been on the small lothcat in the middle since the both of you had arrived, and you’ve bugged him about it enough that he considered it. “Even Wrecker knows these are rigged.”

“Where’s that overcompensating confidence?” You tease, pulling out a few tokens and placing them in his hand softly. You glance up at him with a soft and pleading look, one that you don’t yet know (and will never know) gets him weak in the knees. “Please, Crosshair? For me?” 

At the sight of your big doe eyes, he scoffs, loading the coins in and barely holding back a smile at your excited squeals and the hand shaking his shoulder gently. It takes him a minute to get a hold on the controls, but after some peeking around the corner of the machine and some naturally perfect aim, he lowers the claw and catches the lothcat.

You gasp, watching excitedly as it stays in the claws grip as it moves over to the prize dump, and as Crosshair retrieves it for you and holds it out.

“Happy now?”

You grin down at the stuffed animal and then at Crosshair before lunging forward, arms wrapping around his shoulders with an breathless laugh, “Thank you.” You grin, nuzzling into the side of his head, and pulling away before he had to chance to hug back.

Overwhelmed with the happiness of the moment, you barely notice the room going dark before the feeling of Crosshair’s surprisingly warm gaze leaves you. You look up, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden void of the arcade.

MEMORY SUCCESSFULLY ERASED.

“Cross?”

“Yes?”

“Am I ugly?” 

Crosshair’s gazes narrows, glancing at you as you lay under the covers of your bed. He lifts his arm to hold up the blanket better, glaring at you, but not angrily as tears begin to well in your eyes. He shakes his head firmly, grunting.

“When I was a kid I thought I was,” You started, having his full attention from the second you walked in the room. You scoff softly at yourself, “I can’t believe I’m crying already, sorry.”

Crosshair doesn’t reply, but instead simply reaches over and wipes your tears; a gesture he never would’ve done in the first months of the arrangement the two of you had, but things had changed. You’d changed him.

“I was so lonely as a kid,” You say softly, the words just pouring out of you. “I don’t think anybody realizes how lonely kids are, even after growing up. We just sort of stop paying attention. Like they don’t matter.”

You sniff, and Crosshair doesn’t seem to want you to stop, so you keep going; relishing in the feeling of his warm hand covering your cheek.

“So, I’m like… eight or so. And I have this really pretty girl doll, that I named after myself that I’d just get so frustrated with,” You wipe your nose with the back of your hand, expecting the embarrassment of sharing the personal memory to rise, but it never comes. “It was some standard I’d hold myself to and whenever I’d find myself not liking myself, I’d look at her and it’d get me so mad. I made it to encourage myself, but it was just a constant reminder of my shortcomings as a person. It’s weird. Like… if I can make myself that pretty, maybe people would finally like me,” You finally glance up to meet Crosshair’s gaze, finding that it’d softened into something unreadable to you. 

He leans over and plants a firm kiss on your mouth, his hand sliding down to grasp the sides of your neck before he pulls back. His hands start wandering down with his mouth that keeps peppering you with kisses, softly murmuring the word ‘pretty’ between each kiss. You writhe under his touch, a hand rising to cover your mouth as a warmth shoots down to your lower stomach. You relish in how safe you feel under him before he… he…

MEMORY SUCCESSFULLY ERASED

“Why won’t you come home?”

Your voice echos through his head as he stares out into the vast horizon where Tipoca City used to stand; where the home he grew up in with his brothers and met you in used to stand. He scoffs, glancing back at you from over his shoulder.

“That is not my home anymore,” He says in a low tone; a warning to anyone else, but you knew you had a bit more leeway with him. Fists clenching at your sides, your gaze narrowed into a glare. “Now leave. Hunter’s staring after you like a kicked dog,”

You don’t bother to glance back at the man you already knew was waiting for you, but at the mention of his name he seemed to back further into the ship to give you some privacy, trusting that Crosshair wouldn’t hurt you, of all people.

“This isn’t about him, Crosshair,” You snapped, “Come home. Please. I need you, and so do your-”

“I don’t need you,” Crosshair says sternly, pivoting on a foot to turn to face you with a cold glare. You reeled slightly at the look; you’d seen it before, but never aimed at you. “I never had and I never will. And if you were as smart as you made yourself seem, you’d join me on the right side of the battle. Just like how I thought you and Hunter didn’t have anything going on,” You open your mouth to correct him; he knew there was nothing happening between Hunter and you. He was your best friend, but Crosshair beat you to the punch, “But I guess looks can be deceiving, huh?”

It felt like a clear blow to a vulnerable moment you��d shared with him— only him — and it nearly sent you to tears. You reached up, taking the necklace and snapping it off your neck with a harsh glare in the sniper’s direction; another look that had never been sent directly at him from you, but one that he found made his heart break.

“Fuck you, Crosshair.”

MEMORY SUCCESSFULLY ERASED.

The sense of overwhelming dread that filled your chest and sank down into your belly had you jolting awake, eyes darting around the mundane white room as the panic of what’s happening begins to set in.

The heart monitor picks up its speed, and the two nurses rush to your side as your hand shoots up to grab and fidget with your necklace. You’d fixed it from when… when… 

Why did it need to be fixed? Who broke it?

Who gave it to me? What was his name? Cross…

The nurse grabs your shoulder as your throat tightens with your hands grip on the jewelry, “Can I keep this one? Please?” You sob, managing to smile through tears at the nurse to your right, “Please let me keep this one.” 

‘Crosshair!’ You think, another sob scratching it’s way out of your throat. ‘What am I doing?’

The nurse glances to her coworker and nods gently. She comes to rest her hand over yours, and you let the necklace fall against your chest, but you rest a hand over it protectively. If you couldn’t save your memories of him, maybe this could be the one thing that you do save.

MEMORY WIPE RESUMED.

You can feel yourself being jolted around before finally landing in another memory, your head resting on a warm, firm shoulder and your hand gripped in a strong one in your lap. The person you’re resting your head on… they sit up, and hand you a box which reveals a necklace that relates to your namesake. 

You grin, but the figure in front you shifts which causes you to look up.

Hunter.

He’s smiling at you softly, they way he almost always had; save for the first time he met you. You grin back to him, leaning forward on the couch from your kneeling postition to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

He returns your embrace without hesitation, and you allow yourself to feel how perfectly the both of your bodies meld together. The warmth of his body under the civvy clothes you held for him in your personal dormitories on Kamino sank under your own, causing you to pull away. 

You barely notice how the room around you starts to shift, any objects affiliated with C4!@#??? begin to disappear, whatever holds your mind in it’s grasp seems determined to keep your attention on the sergeant sitting before you on the couch when you pull back from the hug.

‘Hunter gave it to me…’ You look up at him and smile lovingly, ‘of course he did,’ before leaning over and slotting your mouth over his.

MEMORY WIPE OF ??? COMPLETE.

The nurses gently help you up out of the chair, removing the device from your temples as the doctor comes to greet you. Another nurse holding a box hauls it out of the room as you shake the doctors hand and thank him profusely, grinning at the light and happy feeling on your chest as you turn to embrace the nurses in thanks. The woman at the front desk hands you an envelope of slips to give to your family and friends, and you thank her on the way out.

After leaving the office, you enter the outside of Pabu to find Omega waiting for you. Grinning you sneak up behind her, lifting her up and spinning her around. She shouts your name, but you can hear the smile in her voice as you set her down.

“How are you feeling?” She checks you over, and you smile dotingly down at her. 

“I’m alright,” You ruffle through your bag, the feeling of the necklace against your chest making you feel giddy. ‘Why did I feel so bad about it before?’ You think, but quickly shake it off and pull out the envelope. “The secretary said to give this to family and friends, but I don’t think I’m supposed to see.”

Omega curiously takes the large orange envelope from your hands, opening it and reaching in to find a ticket that said that you had:

‘Y/N L/N has erased Crosshair (CT-9904) from her memory. Please never mention their relationship to her again.’

Omega glances up to where you’re walking off with an arm looped through Hunter’s and feels a sense of dread fall to the pit of her stomach.

#crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #crosshair x y/n #crosshair x oc #the bad batch x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch #star wars #my work #zoe's works

[artbyblastweave]

An aesthetic decision I really like about the Mad Max setting- focusing on Fury Road in particular here- is that the timeline and the setting deliberately defy coherence. Countless elements of our world have carried over- the guns, the vehicles, the musical instruments, the religious concepts, and nominally some of the actual people- but the world is geographically impossible, you don't see much contemporary architecture even in a ruined state, and there's no version of the timeline where this can be the same Max Rockatansky as the original films. But it is. The incongruities are deliberate. The setting is mythic, these are campfire tales told about Max, the King Arthur or the Omnipresent Jack figure of the new age. The world that was is swallowed in myth, the world that exists is borrowing some of the old world toys, and being up-front and bombastic with signifiers of the mythic and abstracted nature of the setting absolves you of the need to make the worldbuilding make sense- or rather, to make it make sense in the way you'd have to take a stab at if you had a year-by-year internal worldbuilding timeline of How Everything Went Down.

Fallout 1 is not exactly like this. It can't be, because you could kill a man with an overhead swing of the setting bible. But it's tapping into a similar impulse. People in the first game are using old world tech, but they don't really live in the old world; they live in settlements using materials scavenged from the old world, or in old world towns that were unimportant enough back then that their current identity totally overwrites whatever came before. They don't live in LA: They live in the Boneyard, which gives you a pretty good idea of how much of what we think of as "LA" would be recognizable as such if we were exploring the space in first-person perspective. When you encounter an area that has a direct, well-documented, and unambiguous connection to the old world, it's a Big Deal, and they're hard places to get to- places that the average person living their life in the wastes would die trying to access. Of particular note in this dynamic is The Brotherhood of Steel- for all their technical understanding of the knowledge they hoard, they've clearly seems to have undergone a few rounds of Canticle-style cultural telephone, mutating from Recognizably The American Military into a knightly order. Fallout 2 does this to a lesser extent- it has more settlements directly named after their pre-war counterparts- but it's also a game about a society that's starting to pull back together and form into something resembling the old world, for better or for worse. And it reproduces the trend of stuff with a direct, legible connection to the old world being inscrutable and dangerous to outsiders- specifically with the reveal that the Enclave consider themselves to be the direct continuation of the pre-war government, that they've just kept electing presidents out on that stupid little oil rig. I haven't really made up my mind on whether the timeframes of the games- 84 years followed by 164 years- actually work for the vibe they're going for, in particular it doesn't work with Arroyo- but on the whole, the vibe coheres.

You get into the 3d games, and it becomes much harder to continue to pull this off. One major tool that Fallouts 1 and 2 used to maintain that sense of abstraction was the overland travel map; you were visiting island of society in a vast sea of Nothing. You had encounter cells that consisted of burnt-out, looted shells of cities, maybe good for a camp site but not as anything else. Another important tool towards this end was the isometric camera angle. In a topdown worldspace you can scrub out a lot of environmental details that would be immediately recognizable to the player as artifacts of our present society if you were exploring the space in 1st person. The examine button can feed you vague, uncertain descriptions that convey enough detail to make the item recognizable while also conveying that there's been a level of information decay. Once you move into a 3d worldspace you lose both of these elements- the worldspace is what it is, I can walk across it in eleven minutes stripping it for loot as I go. I can read every sign on every still-standing building, and I've got eyeballs on every old-world bit-and-bobble with a handy interface description of what I'm looking at. And you hit random encounters in the 3d games at basically the same rate, in real-world time, that you did in the isometrics- but the isometrics could successfully abstract it out to represent that you were hitting something noteworthy every couple of weeks, while in the 3d games it's kinda inescapable that you keep getting jumped every single day walking back and forth up the same stretch of road. Not only is it recognizable, it's cramped.

I think that Fallout 3, to its credit, did a decent job of navigating this and trying to maintain the islands-in-a-sea-of-nothing vibe from the isometrics- most of the settlements are built slapdash in places that were obviously never intended for long-term human habitation (bomb craters, overpasses, suburbs), the landmark-heavy city proper is textually a difficult-to-navigate deathtrap, and the poison-sky green filter, memeworthy as it is, does help shore up the impression that you're inviting death by trying to move through the space. Fallout: New Vegas I think addresses this by going in the total opposite direction; It's set in an area of the country where the infrastructure was abnormally well preserved, and the pre-war culture was revived artificially, and from a thematic standpoint it's really interested in digging into the implications of those two things. The fact that the lonely-empty-decontextualized-void aesthetic isn't long for this world dovetails well with the cowboy themes. They have a fair number of future-imperfect context-collapse gags but they don't overdo it by any stretch of the imagination.

Fallout 4, from many directions, is sort of catching the worst of the heat here. The world is recognizable, aggressively so. In fairly-authentically recreating the suburban sprawl of the Northeast, Bethesda simply surrounded the inhabitants of the commonwealth with too much Boston for a sense of true distance from our world to be possible. Everyone still has the accents. They still know the names of all the old neighborhoods. They're still doing the "Park your car" bit. It's still Boston. And it's a busy Boston, too- you can't throw a rock without hitting a farming settlement that's doing well enough to attract tribute-seeking bandits. It's densely packed with points of interest, and those points of interest are packed to the brim with salvageable materials that, going off of the new crafting system, should be in enormous demand to the people who've been living in this area for 210 years. The game doesn't really advance a satisfying explanation, even an aesthetic explanation like fallout 3's poison sky, for why everything around you hasn't been stripped clean before you even came off the ice, why all these environmental storytelling tableaus are just waiting for you to find. It doesn't spend nearly enough time hammering out what the 200-year chronology of the most-livable area seen in a Fallout game looks like- Why don't you see something comparable to the NCR emerging? Something something CPG massacre (which is mentioned twice in the whole game, AFAICT.) And what's being lost here, right, is the ability to use the sands of time to smooth over rough spots in the worldbuilding, in the chronology. You can't hide behind the idea that the world you're experiencing is mythologized. It's presented as real, and it doesn't make much sense if it's real!

And to top it off- Fallout 4 probably has the highest density of characters who were actually there, by some means or another. The Vault Tec rep, Daisy, The Triggermen, Nick Valentine, Eddie Winter, the vault 118 inhabitants, Arlen Glass, Oswald, Kent Connolly, The whole of Cabot House, Captain Zao, The kid in the goddamn fridge and his goddamn parents, and uh. The big one. You. You, the player. Which is such a goddamn splinter under my skin, from a storytelling perspective. You were present in the before-times- but only nominally, only to the exact degree necessary to establish that that was the case. The ugly shit is alluded to, but not incorporated into the character's day-to-day in a way that's obvious to the player, you're there for like six minutes and it's pretty nifty if you overlook that bit at the end where everyone got nuked. Your ability to talk about the world before is always vague, vacuous, superficial. The dirty laundry you dig up on terminals around Boston never seems to meaningfully impact your character's worldview, their impressions of the then and the now. All of which combine to make this the simultaneously the most specific but also the most frustratingly vague game in the series. At its best, Fallout's love of juxtaposing the then and the now would make it a great setting for the Rip Van Winkle routine. But it requires a strong, strong understanding of what the world was like before and after, a willingness to use the protagonist to constantly grind the jagged edges of those things against each other, a protagonist with a better-defined outlook than Bethesda's open-ended-past approach allowed for- and it has to be in service of a greater point. And for Fallout 4 to do anything with any of that, the game would have to be about something instead of being something for you to do. Maddening. Maddening.

#fallout #fallout meta #thoughts #meta #fallout 4 #fallout 3 #fallout new vegas #fallout 1 #fallout 2 #fallout analysis

[bookcrazyace]

Dick & Jason and Why We Need to Stop Mischaracterizing Them and Their Relationship

I know it's been brought up a million times and will probably be brought up a million more times but I wanted to put my 2 cents in. Jason and Dick and their relationship is grossly mischaracterized and it hurts the narrative. Now there isn't anything wrong with a little ooc content I'm a fanfic writer and I've fallen onto some of the more fanon sides of things to make it fit my narrative better but the problem arises when people mistake fanon for canon and bring it up in serious fandom discussions.

Dick was the first Robin so we'll start with him first. Characterizing Dick as the happy-go-lucky Robin is very distinctly wrong and actually quite the opposite of what he actually was. Dick wanted revenge for the death of his parents and that's what drew Bruce to him in the first place. Bruce made Batman to focus his anger and grief into something productive that would help people. When he recognized the same yearning for vengeance in Dick he trained him so that Robin could be for Dick what Batman was to him, a coping mechanism. In the end Dick manages to let go of the notion of revenge and it means that Robin succeeded and he then takes on a new identity, Nightwing (Canonically Dick and Bruce start having arguments and that's more the reason he leaves but from a narrative perspective Dick going from Robin to Nightwing can be seen as him getting rid of the feelings of revenge and gaining new goals. Also it's an excellent juxtaposition to the fact that while Robin succeeded in freeing Dick Bruce is still Batman.) Dick starting off as a vengeful spirit and blossoming into one of the most outwardly cheerful members of the batfam (despite the most definitely present repressed anger) is so much more powerful than him essentially not changing throughout the entire story especially when you consider that multiple times in canon Bruce has said that NIghtwing is better than Batman and what Batman was meant to be.

Jason ever the fan favorite and probably the person in the batfam that is misharacterized the most (in my opinion) is the next topic of discussion. Jason being the angry Robin takes so much away from his story and honestly I'm not vibing with it. One of Jason's notable lines as Robin is the phrase "Being Robin gives me magic!"you surely can't hear that and picture a violent criminal in the making. Jason being a street kid that jacks tires for a living but still being kind and childishly innocent makes him as Robin so much more interesting. Jason's drive to help people is obviously heavily influenced by his mother and how he took care of her up until her death. The tragedy of his mother's death is what drives Bruce to him. Of course Jason's process of becoming Robin wasn't immediate like a lot of people believe, Jason was actually sent to an all boys school for a short period of time before realizing they were a front for a crime ring he then helped Batman take down their operation. I feel like after seeing all that one would lose their faith in most people but Jason didn't remember he wasn't Robin until after this incident and he still was so happy and bright. The big turning point in Jason's story (from what I remember I haven't read the comics in a while) Batman suspects he pushes a man they were chasing off of a roof (I don't remember if it's ever made clear whether he did or not) this puts a pretty big strain on their relationship. Soon after all that goes down Jason finds out that the same mother he grew up with, the same mother he took care of, the same mother he watched die isn't actually his mother. The tense atmosphere between him and Bruce in combination for his yearning for answers leads him to run away to find her. When he meets her she sells him out to the Joker who subsequently beats him with a crowbar and leaves him to die in a warehouse that's rigged to blow up. Jason's mother is in the warehouse too and he does everything he can to save her. In the end they both die but when Batman questions her Jason's mom tells him that he tried to save her. In most modern iterations of Jason's death story his mother is written out and his death is pinned on him and his "impulsive and brash decisions". When Jason comes back to Gotham after his revival he seeks vengeance and is incredibly violent a very stark contrast to the bubbly kid that was just happy to be there. Two of his most notable actions as Red Hood are decapitating the lieutenants of the top crime lords and delivering them in a duffel bag and attacking Tim Drake the new Robin in Titans Tower. Jason's main drive for attacking Tim and becoming a crime lord is the fact that he died, he died as Robin and he didn't think that children should have to take on crime in the way Bruce did Jason decided that the best way to get rid of crime was to control it. The way Jason went from sunshine personified to a gritty crime lord who was willing to kill is what makes his story so interesting. The way an innocent child that got exposed to the darkness of the world and got swallowed by it is what makes the story so meaningful. In comparison to Dick, Jason is Batman's greatest failure he became the very thing Bruce tried to prevent him from being, a vengeful spirit that kills. In some ways Dick and Jason's stories are opposites and parallels.

Now for Dick and Jason's relationship. Despite what a lot of people think Dick didn't hate Jason when he first appeared (I think there was a point where Dick wanted to adopt Jason but I don't remember). Making Dick hate Jason as Robin sort of ruins both of their character arcs Dick evolved past his hatred and need for vengeance and thus adores Jason, Jason growing into someone so angry and hating Tim as Robin despite the fact that Dick showed him so much kindness makes everything hit so much harder.

In conclusion, this isn't really a huge deal but I've been thinking about it a lot recently. I've written and read fics where Jason was an angry Robin and Dick was a happy one. I've written and read fics where Dick hated Jason at first. Fandom is all about what fans do with a piece of media they like and at the end of the day the characters can be whoever you want them to be. Don't let this post uninspire you or make you feel called out if you enjoy the more fanon dynamics and personalities of these characters. Fee free to point out any inaccuracies to me it's been a while since I've read the comics.

#batfam #batman #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #dc comics #dc universe #batfamily #canon vs fanon #fandom #fanfic

[m-musings]

Winging It: Buggy The Clown X Winged! Fem! Reader Pt. 1

A/N: bless the one piece fans for getting me into the show and introducing me to this man because he is just so FJSCBKGHLKDGW, like you feel me? anywaysss, first time writing for one piece, let's do this whoooo!

(part 2 here! :] )

Word Count: 2.7k Summary: Buggy asks (Y/n) to help out with an unusual task, chaos ensues. Warnings: a dude being a creep to reader later on and a little bit of ooc on Buggy's behalf, but other than that, just some good ol' fluff!

It all started out as a perfectly normal day.

After another busy day on the Big Top and another successful "show", Buggy had given the majority of his crew the day off to do whatever they wished.

As soon as (Y/n) was able, she unfurled her feathery wings and flew up to the crows nest, needing to get away from the madness down on the deck for a while.

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) took a deep breath of the refreshing ocean air as the breeze blew softly against her face.

Having joined Buggy's crew a few months earlier, she had never expected her life to change as much as it did as fast as it did.

(Y/n) originally came from a life as the sole inhabitant of a tiny island in the middle of the East Blue. One day, the Big Top and its crew happened to be sailing by and stopped to search the island for any supplies they could find.

Fearing the worst, (Y/n) grabbed her baseball bat and and flew out of her hut to stop the pirates from getting any closer.

After fending off a few of the crew members, Buggy swiftly stepped in to try and diffuse the situation, being unusually calm and level headed as he addressed (Y/n).

Realizing her wings could be useful to him in shows and in pillaging, Buggy invited her to join him and his pirates instead of struggling to keep herself alive and entertained on her little islet.

With a hesitant but quick decision, (Y/n) agreed, asking for some time to pack some personal items before Buggy and the rest of the crew led her back to the boat, intent on celebrating a new member of the gang.

Quickly learning the ropes of pirating and climbing up the ranks of the crew, (Y/n) eventually became a high ranking member, just behind Mohji and Buggy himself.

She even managed to become friends with the quirky captain, to the the slight disbelief of the rest of their crewmates. In addition, after getting to know each other a bit more, that friendship slowly turned into a (huge) crush on (Y/n)'s part, but neither Buggy nor anyone else needed to know that part.

And even though the start of her pirating adventure was a little strange, (Y/n) could never say she missed her old life. Being apart of the Big Top Crew gave her the family and friends she was sorely missing on her island.

Reveling in the quiet of the air, (Y/n) smiled to herself as she thought of her new existence as the Big Top's resident trapeze artist, grateful that she now had the world at her fingertips, plus people to fight beside and fight for.

As she reminisced upon the past, her eyebrows perked up when she heard ropes creaking from somewhere down below.

"Hey doll! Figured I'd find you up here!" Grunted a voice from beside her.

She cracked one of her eyes open to see Buggy climbing up the rigging, the tail of his bandana flowing behind him.

"Hey, Cap! Did you need something?"

"Nah, not right now. But I might once we get to the island we're headed to. If the winds are good, we should get there in the next 2 days."

"Oh, yeah, I nearly forgot! What's so special about this island anyway? Isn't the stop just for us to stock up again before we head out to meet Alvida?" (Y/n) questioned, sitting down on the floor of the crows nest as she scootched over to make some room for Buggy.

"That's part of it, yes, but the main reason we're stopping is because a couple of our cannons were destroyed in our last fight with the Marines. There's a few weaponsmiths in a city there that are willing to sell us a few new ones if we can negotiate a good price for both of us."

"So we need them to agree to our bargain so we don't get demolished by another battle on the way to meet Alvida?"

"Exactly! You're one smart cookie.

"Hmm, I try." She shrugged with pleased grin, her wings fluffing out in sync.

"You sure do, (Y/n/n). Anyways, I came to see if you would be willing to come with me, just to make sure nothing fishy happens while I'm not paying attention. Maybe pretend to be my arm candy to trick them, y'know?"

"Me? Can't someone, like, Cabaji do it? He's got way more experience with this stuff than I do."

"He's gonna be in charge of the ship while we're gone. Plus, I mean, you're the only one who would make spending time with dumbasses like these smith guys bearable. You would save me of literally dying of boredom."

"Pfft, I doubt that" Answered (Y/n) as she rolled her eyes at the clown's exaggeration.

Buggy chuckled, smiling softly at the girl as he rested his arm atop her shoulder.

The action causes a very subtle blush to appear on her face, which she tries to keep hidden by scratching at her neck.

"So whadya say, huh? Wanna go on a little adventure with me?"

(Y/n) sighed with a sputter of her lips before turning to answer the blue haired man.

"Sure, Captain, I'll come along. It could be kinda fun."

"Aww, thanks (Y/n), you're the best! Even better than Mohji! But don't tell him that." Whispered Buggy as he jokingly cupped his hand over his mouth.

"You're ridiculous, Captain." she laughed softly, bumping her shoulder with his.

"And I take pride in that. It's all I got goin' for me, after all." Chuckled Buggy, who shrugged and leaned back in reply.

(Y/n) gave him an amused grin in reply before shifting her eyes back towards the big blue ocean that surrounded them.

The two then sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before the voice of another crewmate called out for Buggy from somewhere on the main deck.

"Well, sweets, duty calls. See you later, huh?" Buggy said with a salute before he made his way back down the rigging.

As he disappeared from sight, (Y/n) bashfully put her head in her hands as she tried not to overthink the nickname her captain had given her.

"Oh, damn.... what have I gotten myself into?..." (Y/n) questioned herself as she placed her head against her knees.

After a few more minutes of sitting by herself while she scanned the horizon, Buggy yelled out, calling the crew back to the deck for another show.

With a small shake of her head, (Y/n) stood up, stretched, and flew down to gather with the rest of the troupe.

Just as Buggy had said, the Big Top had reached it's island destination a couple days later. Thankfully, there wasn't many Marines in this town, meaning the crew could go into town to stretch their legs on land and get any supplies they might need for the rest of the trip.

Still on the ship, (Y/n) sat below deck as she tried to find something other than her circus costume to wear, wanting to be able to blend into the crowds better or just in case a high ranking Marine or someone from the World Government showed up and recognized her alongside Buggy.

Rummaging through her chest of clothes, her wings fluttered as she finally found a simple black tank top and a pair of jeans.

After placing the clothing on her bed and gliding over to a nearby vanity to do some basic makeup, she heard a knock at her door while she applied some light rouge to her face.

"Come in, it's open!" She announced as she grabbed another brush from the vanity drawer.

Looking behind her using the mirror, she saw a familiar orange pirate hat pop into view.

"Are you decent?" Buggy said as he entered the room, his disembodied hands floating in front of his face to cover his eyes

"Yes, Captain, you can open your eyes if you want." (Y/n) giggled as she put on some finishing touches of makeup.

Popping off one of his fingers to glance at the girl, he gasped lightly as he finally saw her face.

"Wow, you look fantastic!" Buggy said with an impressed nod.

"Really? It's not much different than my usual casual looks..." Claimed (Y/n) as she timidly placed a hand upon her cheek.

"Either way, angel, you look good. But I suppose that's beside the point. I just came to tell you to be ready to go by sundown. I'll be waiting on the dock, Don't be late." He winked before leaving the room.

With a huff as she tried to compose herself, (Y/n) stood up to get dressed and mentally prepare herself for the night.

Within just a few short hours, the sun had finally set upon the island, and right on cue, (Y/n) left her quarters and strutted over to the deck railing to see Buggy down on the pier waiting for her.

"Ah, (Y/n) there you are! I was worried for a sec, thought you were gonna chicken out on me!"

"No, I'm here. Someone has gotta keep an eye on you!"

"Well, I'm glad that someone is you. Shall we go?" Buggy motioned as (Y/n) climbed down to meet him.

"Yes, we shall, mon capitaine!" (Y/n) quipped as he held her head up high with a light giggle.

"C'mon, let's get going." Chuckled Buggy in response as the two made their way out of the marina.

After a minute or so of idle chatter about their days, (Y/n) spoke up with a question she had been meaning to ask.

"What do we do if they don't agree to give us the cannons for the price you set?"

"Well If that happens, I guess we'll just have to... wing it!" Buggy quipped as he gave the girl a sly grin.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny!" (Y/n) fake laughed as she playfully smacked Buggy's back with one of her wings.

"Thank you! I am funny!" Buggy declared as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, careful to avoid the feathers on her back.

(Y/n) bit her bottom lip in reply as she moved her gaze to the cobblestone ground beneath them.

"So where exactly is this weapons store at?"

"Not far, we come to this place every so often so I know the quickest way to get there."

(Y/n) nodded in acknowledgement as Buggy began to tell her some fun stories about his past adventures here.

About 15 minutes later, Buggy made an excited noise as he realized where they were.

"Ok, (Y/n/n), the weaponsmiths store is just up ahead, I'll lead you there." He announced, taking her hand until they found the place they needed to be.

As the door swung open, a little bell rang overhead, signaling to the two workers that someone had entered the shop.

"Gentlemen! How's it going, am I late to the party?!"

"Ah, you must be the guy that contacted us the other day! Nah, you're right on time! Did you bring cash?" Asked one of the men who (Y/n) assumed was the shop owner.

Buggy rolled his eyes as he pulled out a large stack of berry from his pocket and placed it onto a nearby counter, in front of the younger man with black hair.

"Perfect! If you follow me, I can show you the canons we currently have on stock." the older of the two men said, leading Buggy past a few rows of shelves and cabinets to another part of the store.

Just before they rounded the corner, Buggy and (Y/n) gave each other a reassuring nod.

After a brief moment of looking around at the various weapons and items scattered across the room, (Y/n)'s attention was grabbed by the sound of someone behind her clearing her throat.

She slowly whirled back around to see the younger of the two shopkeepers looking her up and down.

"Hey gorgeous, how ya doin' on this fine evening?" The man who stayed at the counter smirked, looking at (Y/n) with something dangerous flashing in his eyes

"Fine, thanks..." (Y/n) giving him a polite smile

"So, you uh, doing anything tonight?"

"Just getting those cannons, then we're headed back out."

"Aw come on, you couldn't stay for... say, one drink with me at the bar in town?"

"Um, thanks but no thanks, I've got stuff to do back on our ship." Responded the girl as she took a few steps backwards

"Are you sure? I could give you a real fun time, cutie!" Chuckled the man as he walked around the counter to stand in front of (Y/n) with his arms crossed.

"Yeah, positive. Sorry." (Y/n) finalized as she started to walk away, but was near-instantly stopped.

"Oh, come on, pretty birdy, leave that idiotic clown guy and spend the night with a real man huh?!" The man cackled as he grabbed onto (Y/n)'s wrist and pulled her into his chest.

"Ow! Let me go!" Hissed (Y/n) as she began to tug against the mans grasp, flapping her wings slightly to give her a bit more leverage.

The man laughed crudely before grabbing her other arm and trapping her against a shelf.

"Hey, maybe that stupid pirate will let me keep you! Who knows, maybe we can see all of the things those pretty little wings of yours can do!"

With a disgusted scoff, (Y/n) went to grab a small dagger she had hidden in her left pocket, but before she could even find it, a white-gloved hand shot across the store to grip the black haired man's collar.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?!" Buggy inquired, his voice menacingly low as he appeared back from the other side of the store.

"Uh, well, you see I- it's um-"

"Answer me!"

"C'mon, It was a joke! I didn't mean anything by it!" The man tried to convince the Captain as he let out a nervous laugh.

"Didn't seem very funny to me..." Buggy stated as he glared daggers at the shopkeeper.

"You're right, it wasn't, I- I apologize-" he stammered with a fearful whimper before Buggy pushed him back against the counter with a growl.

"If you ever try to touch anyone on my crew again, I'll personally make sure you lose both of your hands, got it?!"

"Okay, alright, I'm sorry! It won't happen again, sir!" The man agreed with a frightened look at the pirate.

Buggy scoffs irately, throwing the man onto the floor before picking the berry back up and stuffing it back into his pocket.

"C'mon, (Y/n), we're getting the hell outta here." Buggy spat as he gingerly grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the shop.

Confusedly sputtering as they clambered back down the road, (Y/n) stared at Buggy with wide eyes.

"Slow down a little, please!" (Y/n) said, stumbling as she tried to keep pace with Buggy.

With an apologetic and upset glance, Buggy released her hand before she hurried over to walk side by side with him.

"Buggy, what the hell was that about?!"

"Don't worry about it, we just needed to leave that shithole before I killed someone."

"That hasn't stopped you before!"

"I'll just say I'm feeling generous tonight then." Snarled Buggy, growing more and more enraged as the pair walked.

"We need to go back, we need those canons or we're screwed!"

"We can get the canons somewhere else, we need to go."

"But what was that all about?! Sure, the guy was a douche, but I could have easily just pushed him off with my wings or cut him with my dagger. Why are you being so weird about this?!"

"Because no one fucks with my girl!" Buggy shouted, spinning around to come face to face with (Y/n).

"W-wait, wait... Your girl?..." (Y/n) asked quietly, freezing as the meaning of his words sunk in.

Buggy halted his rant as he turned to fully face her, finally realizing what he had said. Running a palm through his blue locks, he dejectedly shook his head as he struggled to find the right words to say.

"Just forget about it, okay?! We have to get back to the ship..." Buggy muttered as he continued to stomp away.

As the blue haired pirate angrily marched down the street, (Y/n) stood frozen on the edge of the town, not knowing how to feel about what her beloved captain had just revealed to her.

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown #one piece #one piece live action #one piece imagine #fanfic

[fruitsoxs]

I just read the jealousy drably you posted and I already really enjoy your writing! I’m a sucker for hurt/comfort and I was wondering if we could get a part 2 of sorts with comforting and loving Vash after realizing the situation made him a bit upset/ jealous. Whether you write it or not, I can’t wait to see your further work 👍

i decided to throw these two requests together!

Part 1

pairings: vash x reader , wolfwood x reader

warnings: a bit of angst, vash cries, wolfwood is kind of a jerk

notes: yeah- part 2 so soon for you babes. ily all! he one bed trope is kinda weak here so i think i might write another drabble or fic later because I love that trope. also is this a little too long to be a drabble? idk

Vash

Your eyes flicker to the man beside you for a moment. He’s not looking at you- no his eyes are conveniently tracing every other thing in this room but you. His blue eyes refuse to land on you, no matter how much you try to intercept his vision. You briefly wonder how long he can look at the same lamp before getting bored, but your sarcastic thoughts are cut short when he finally speaks up.

“I’ll switch with Meryl-” Vash says suddenly causing your eyes to widen in confusion. 

What is going on with him? 

Sure this room only has one bed. Yeah it’s a little awkward, but it’s never been such a big problem before. In fact, you have been traveling with Vash for so long that it has happened multiple times before and has never been this big of a deal! You thought the two of you were close enough that something this small wouldn’t matter- but apparently you were wrong.

Actually, Vash has been acting like this for a little over a week now. He’s been avoiding your gaze, not talking to you, and even refusing to joke around like he once did. Every time you try to approach him, it feels like he’s putting up this wall to keep you away. Even the others have started to notice. Wolfwood has been giving the two of you curious glances, and he’s kinda bad at picking up on that stuff.

You’re honestly starting to get tired of it- he’s given you no explanation about why he’s suddenly distant, and it’s beginning to really hurt. You aren’t just close with him, you’re pretty much in love with him. You have been for a long time- and while you don’t mind staying friends, it hurts more than anything to have him push you away this far.

“Don’t bother.” You finally answer after a moment of silence. “They won’t switch with either of us- they did this on purpose.” You explain throwing your bag into the corner of the room. Vash flinches at this- and you sighand take a deep breath. 

Another awkward silence fills the room, and you find yourself staring at him as he avoids your gaze again. His eyes shoot over to you for only half a second before they go back to that stupid lamp. A deep anger starts to bubble up in your chest. You don’t like getting mad at him. You barely ever do. But right now? He’s hurting you. Every time he looks away, every time he ignores you, it makes your heart sting.

You can’t even think of a reason why he’s doing this! It all started a week ago after a night at the bar. You went to grab everyone some drinks, and when you came back Vash was gone. When you asked, Wolfwood just shrugged and told you he went to bed. After that? Nothing.

“Which side do you want?” You ask, trying desperately to get anything out of him. Vash just shrugs. “I’ll take the floor.” He says without even turning to you.

Your heart sinks. What have you done? You don’t understand. 

“What is going on with you?” You suddenly ask, a little angrier than you mean to be. You can see a change in his body immediately. He goes rigged- tense. “What do you mean?” He asks. You sigh and slump down onto the bed- resting your head in your hands. “You’ve been quiet- too quiet. Every time I try to talk to you, you find some excuse to walk away. You won’t sit next to me in the car. You refuse to even look at me-” You cut yourself off, feeling tears threaten to spill from your eyes. “What did I do?”

He looks over at you with wide eyes. It’s the first time he’s looked at you in days, and now you can see that something is very wrong. His eyes are dark- his face is pale. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. 

Oh.

You’re so stupid. All this time you’ve been so hurt by him ignoring you, you haven’t really paid attention to him. This isn’t about you, or maybe it is, but there’s obviously something deeper happening here. There’s something really wrong.

“You didn’t do anything. I-” He starts to explain- but can’t seem to get it out. He turns away from you again. “It’s me.” He finally concludes. In the moonlight from the window you can see his shoulders shake slightly. 

“Oh Vash…” You immediately get up and reach out for his arm, he doesn’t stop you. You grab him and pull him close, hugging him tightly. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t hug you back for a second- his body stiff. Eventually though, his arms wrap around you and he pulls you close. The hug feels normal- like you’ve done it a thousand times before. And to be fair- you have. 

“The other day at the bar…that guy was flirting with you.” Vash murmurs, and your eyes widen. That silly random doctor? He was a bit funny yes- but you only were talking to him because you felt a little cornered. You don’t even remember what that guy looks like. “I saw you laughing- and I just got so jealous.” 

Your heart flutters softly. He was jealous?

“And…I just kept thinking that I have no right to feel that way. I have no right to think of you that way. Everyone around me always gets hurt, and I don’t want you to get hurt.” He’s crying as he explains this, light tears dripping from his cheeks onto your shoulder. “But I can’t help but be selfish. You’re more than my best friend I…” he trails off choking up. “I love you.”

You feel your breathing stop for a moment. The room goes eerily quiet. The onlys pounds you can hear are his soft sobs, and your heartbeat. You tighten your hold on him, so he can’t even try to pull away. “I…I love you  too.” You admit softly.

“But-”

“No. I love you too. You can’t…you can’t do this to yourself. You can’t force yourself to be isolated from the world. I don’t want you to push me away- I don’t care what your reasoning is.” You cling to him as you speak. “I want to be by your side. Please let me.” You beg softly.

His arms tighten around you too, and he shoves his face into your hair, still crying quietly. You rub his back with your hand, and murmur soft words into his skin until he calms down. Soon, the two of you are just holding each other in the moonlight. 

“Okay.” is all he says, pulling away. He’s smiling down at you through red eyes, and it’s the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen. “I promise, I won’t push you away ever again.”

You reach your hand up to his cheek, and he turns his face to kiss your palm lightly. The two of you stare at each other for a second. “I’ll take the left side.” he breaks the moment with a playful grin and you giggle.

The rest of the night is spent cuddling and talking about your feelings. The only tears shed after that are happy tears.

Wolfwood

Despite having a romantic dance at a random bar (and yes, Wolfwood is a surprisingly good dancer) the next day things go back as they always are. Actually, things feel a little bit worse even. After weeks of trying to break down Wolfwood’s ridiculously high walls, you were finally granted a pleasant evening in his arms- only to immediately be cussed at for sitting a little too close to him in the car the next day.

It’s not like you were sitting on his lap either! All you did was softly press your leg up against his, because Vash was once again thrashing in his sleep- and he pushed you over and grumbled for you to get back in your own fucking seat. Charming right? 

Things kept getting worse after that. You two started bickering more. You both started to refuse to talk to each other at some point, forcing poor Vash to be your messenger(he was not a fan of telling you to fuck yourself for Wolfwood). You even got into a tiny argument over directions, that resulted into a bigger argument about how utterly useless you are. (Which definitely did not make you cry that night)

The others in the group were starting to get really fed up with the two of you. 

Which is how you ended up here- standing in the hallway to your tiny hotel room with Wolfwood staring at you from the doorway. He looks over to the single bed in the room, and glares at you. “This is my room.” he says matter of factly, putting his Punisher down against the wall. 

“No, I’m pretty sure this is my room.” you respond, crossing your arms.

“One second.” He huffs disappearing out into the hallway. You wait a moment, staring at where he once was with a frown. When he comes back he looks like he’s considerably more angry. “Apparently- it’s our room.” He mumbles shoving past you. 

Your eyes widen a bit, but you’re not as surprised as you should be. Meryl is sneaky when she wants to be.

There’s some shuffling behind you, and you turn to see Wolfwood grabbing some pillows and throwing them on the ground. He’s got a look on his face that’s not quite a frown. It actually looks more anxious than anything. It makes your own anger fall. 

“What are you doing?” You ask tilting your head as he messes with his floor pillows. “I’m sleeping on the ground.” he tells you, looking up for only a split second. You notice that there’s a sucker in his mouth that’s almost completely gone- it’s his second one in the past hour. He must be stressing over something.

“No you’re not.” You sigh and lean down to pick up his pillows. He catches your wrist softly, stopping you. “Yes I am.” he argues back. His grip is nothing short of respectful, so soft that you actually don’t even think of pulling away. “No, I won’t let you.” you shoot back, making him roll his eyes.

“What’re you gonna do? Force me to sleep on the bed?”

“Actually yeah- I am.”

“Oh? And how are you gonna do that Angel?”

The nickname makes you perk up a bit. It’s been a couple of days since he called you that. Maybe this means the stick up his ass is finally gone?

“Just sleep in the damn bed Wolfwood-”

“I don’t want to-” He growls, glaring at you once again. His look seems to say ‘Stop pushing me’, but you’ve never been so good at obeying warnings. So you grab his pillow and yank it away from the floor. “Too bad!” You yell, trying to throw the stupid thing back onto the bed. He stops you by yanking the pillow back towards him.

The two of you stop and glare at each other, both holding onto the pillow like children. The stare off goes on until you finally give up, sighing. “Look, if you don’t want to sleep next to me that bad- I’ll sleep on the floor.” You mumble, your chest suddenly feeling very tight.

“That’s not it…”

“ Don’t argue with me. You carry around that stupidly big cross all day- wait what?”

Your eyes meet his, and he looks down at the floor. There’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks, so faint you can barely see it. “I said that’s not it. It’s not that I don’t wanna sleep next to ya…” He lets go of the pillow with a sigh, and fishes into his pocket to pull out a cigarette. In silence, he places it into his mouth and lights it.

“Then what’s the problem?” You ask a little confused. If that’s not what his issue is then what is it? Does he think you don’t want to? You’ve made it pretty clear that you wouldn’t mind! So what’s his deal?

“The problem is....” He starts looking at you as he breathes some smoke out. “I want to.” 

Your breath hitches in your throat as you look at him. “Oh.” is all you can say as your cheeks flush red. He wants to? He wants to sleep with you? He wouldn’t be this upset if he meant platonically right? He’s definitely hinting at something right? His cheeks are a bit red too

“Me too…” you finally admit after. He laughs at your words and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah I figured. You were pretty aggressive about getting me into bed.” He mumbles playfully leaning down to pick up the pillow, and throws it over onto the bed. You can’t help but feel the corners of your mouth twist upward.

After a few moments of silence, he steps towards you and puts his hand on your cheek. “I’m sorry for being an ass recently. I just…I don’t know how to deal with this stuff.” He mumbles looking down into your eyes. “It’s okay Nick…We can take it slowly. We can figure it out as we go…” you reply softly. He smiles down at you. “You’re too good for me.”

And then, he kisses you. It’s so soft, and so careful. His lips are only against yours for a moment before he pulls away. “Let’s get some rest.”

small a/n: as always let me know if you see any typos- i only have someone to beta read my full fics, and i cannot correct my own writing.

#trigun x reader #trigun drabble #wolfwood x reader #nicholas d wolfwood x reader #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #wolfwood drabble #vash drabble

[gnwookieee]

Going to an arcade with zb1!!! Who’s the most competitive??? Who’s got the skills???? Who’s going to win you the biggest teddy bear????

: arcade with zb1!

📁 🖇️ : hi anon i love this request so much! thank you for being patient, i hope this meets your expectations <3 !!

genre : fluff

pairing : zb1 member x (gn!)reader

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: 김지웅 // kim jiwoong

honestly you probably had to drag him there

i imagine him not being that great at games (srry Jiwoong) at the beginning

but once he starts playing he gets really into it

makes up for lack of skill with enthusiasm

gets very invested in the game

so focused, really serious facial expressions while playing

soon he wants to try every single game the arcade has

by the end he is actually quite good

always plays fairly

: 장하오 // zhang hao

will spend all his money and time on the craw machines if you don’t drag him away

pride will be hurt if he can’t win anything

but gets so excited when he finally gets the one he was aiming for

hypes you up when you win games

honestly would love it if you won him a prize too

or even better matching prizes

pays attention to what other couples have won, secretly now in competition to win more

: 성한빈 // sung hanbin

okay so hanbin wants this to be fun, it’s a date after all

plans to be that boyfriend that wins you the best prizes

but if you are competitive then so will he

may or may not play fairly

playfully tries cheating on the 2 player games by trying to distract you

really good at throwing games like skee ball and pinball

drags you to the photo booth, takes so many photos and will always carry them in his bag

gets so smiley when he wins finally at a game after a failure streak

: 석매튜 // seok matthew

is really great at the games but isn’t focused on being competitive

wants you both to have fun and it not turn into an agressive competition

feel like he would be really good at air hockey idk why

probably lets you win most of the 2 player games

acts super offended if you accuse him of letting you win

careful with his plan, not letting you win every single time because he knows that is too obvious

insists he must reward you with kisses every time you win

so really he is winning too

sweetest

: 김태래 // kim taerae

drags you to the arcade

makes it his mission to teach you how to play different games

prefers two person games so you can play together

another member that plays fairly

makes sure you are having fun

highly amusing to watch him play dance dance revolution

pls video him

tries to show off but ends up failing

gets all shy and smiley in embarrassment because he insisted he was really good

holds your drink for you while you play a game, ready at all times to give you the straw when you need a sip while immersed in the game

supportive boyfriend

: 리키 // ricky

he wants to win you all the prizes

not bothered about the biggest. but the most

tries to bribe the arcade workers into giving him the prizes without the hard work of winning them

probably nearly gets you kicked out

finally gives up and accepts that he will actually have to win them

honestly ends up being pretty great at them

ao proud of himself but brushes it off pretending it is no big deal

*slightly freaks out when he wins at the claw machine*

blushes hard if you win him a prize in return

: 김규빈 // kim gyuvin

tries to break into the machines

espically the claw machines

insists they are rigged and that no one can actually win at them

sees another couple playing them and winning a prize on the first attempt

gets pouty

gets even poutier when you win a prize for him first

refuses to leave until he wins something

has 3 attempts at a game before giving up and trying another one

would be better at basketball games, his height would help

buys lots of snacks for the two of you for ‘energy’

: 박건욱 // park gunwook

this man’s goal in life is to win you the biggest prize possible

spends all his time at the same game because he knows they have the biggest teddy bear

you insist you don’t need the biggest one, you would be happy with any because you didn’t expect him to win a prize for you

obviously he succeeds because he is that type of boyfriend

takes so many photos of you two and the bear

very proud of himself

officially become the bear’s parents and debate over its name

“how about Beary?”

“omg no we can’t call our child that! that is the worst bear name ever!”

: 한유진 // han yujin

i imagine yujin would love going on arcade dates

probably your most frequent date

never pretends it is not going to be a competition

probably most likely to not 100% play fairly

it’s part of the fun for you two

you spend hours running around, playing every game possible trying to get the highest scores

time goes by so quickly when you have fun with yujin

both of you are so exhausted after but also really happy, probably just end up giggling at each other

📁🖇️ : hiii everyone! hope you are doing okay, make sure to look after yourselves 🫶🏻

#zb1 #zb1 fluff #zerobaseone #gnwookieee #kpop #zb1 reactions #zb1 scenarios #boys planet #kpop imagines #zb1 drabbles #zb1 imagines #zb1 ricky #zb1 gyuvin #zb1 icons #zb1 taerae #zb1 hanbin #zb1 headcanons #zb1 x reader #zb1 gunwook #zb1 zhang hao #zb1 jiwoong #zb1 yujin #zb1 matthew #zerobaseone x reader #zerobase1 #zerobaseone headcanon #zerose #zerobaseone drabbles #zerobaseonefics #zb1 fics

[onlyhuis]

stoner!svt

their favorite forms of weed + random stoner thoughts

member — svt ot13 x reader genre — headcanons, humor word count — 1.0k warnings — descriptions of marijuana and smoking. there isn't anything explicit or suggestive in this, but my blog is 18+ so minors dni. but whether you're a minor or not, please do not take advice about drugs from strangers on the internet,, i am so unqualified and this is just a reflection of my own experiences so don't take anything here as fact. always use responsibly! notes — huge thanks to @wooahaeproductions @highvern and @gyuwoncheol for brainstorming this with me !! as tumblr's resident stoner huihui i have many more thots about stoner!svt so feel free to stop by my inbox with your ideas to chat 👀

one reblog = one joint hand rolled for you by minghao himself

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seungcheol: dab pen

big bulky man requires a big bulky pen. it hits harder and feels way more intense so he doesn’t care that it’s harder to clean. he also has a dab rig and he thinks it makes him cool and different because he and vernon are the only ones who actually know how to use it

jeonghan: weird shaped bong

he has to be Extra at all times so he has a surprising variety of odd shapes. the tentacle one on his dresser is his most interesting one for sure, but the one shaped like an arcade game machine with actual flashing lights is his favorite. he’s the king of princess treatment so he definitely makes everyone else light his bongs for him; why would he do it himself when there’s a perfectly good coups sitting right there?

joshua: fruity disposable thc pens

he’s made it his life mission to try every flavor once. los angeles is like the vape capital of the world so there is definitely no shortage of flavors for him to try. someone please pack him a normal regular unflavored bowl before all his clothes permanently smell like strawberry ice. he thinks he’s subtle but you can literally smell him a mile away, his scent enters the room before he does

junhui: literally anything

willing to take whatever you’re willing to give: you put any kind of weed in front of him and he’s gonna try it. he really doesn’t have a preference for what form it’s in, as long as he gets to do it with you <3 i can also see him trying edibles in different forms than the usual kinds, like the ones that come in a can like soda or a bag of chips. it’s hard to tell when he’s high because he’s the same amount of giggly as he always is, it’s like a 50/50 chance of whether he’s stoned or just silly

soonyoung: preroll joints

he tries so hard it’s kind of sad but also so funny. he takes one hit and coughs like he's been chainsmoking cigarettes for the last 40 years, then gets tired after 10 minutes and lays facedown on the floor until he falls asleep. he’s not invited to smoke with you anymore because he spills the bong water every single time without fail. he becomes the most giggly and cuddly person you’ve ever seen in your life; imagine drunk hosh, times ten. he sets up his tiger plushies in a circle and passes the joint around like he’s a 4 year old girl having a tea party. he starts crying if one of them feels left out so he has to count and make sure they all get an equal number of hits

jihoon: normal shaped bong

locks himself in and hotboxes the studio. he mostly does it to get out of his own head and chill alone for a while, so don’t even think about interrupting him. he’ll emerge from a cloud of smoke a couple of hours later with 2 new albums, god of light music: the sequel, and a solo for hoshi. he doesn’t let the other members touch his stuff or even know where he hides it

wonwoo: normal shaped bong (dirty)

i hate to play into the dirty gamer boy stereotype that he’s always written as… but he 100% never cleans it. it’s always byob (bring your own bong) when he invites you over because he may be with fine smoking a crusty bowl, but not everyone feels that way sorry dude

minghao: hand-rolled joints

he doesn’t trust anyone to roll but himself. he has fancy expensive organic papers that he got from an exclusive farmer's market and he treats it like an art form but honestly it hits way better when he does it so you don’t question his technique. a hand rolled joint from minghao is like a gift from god

mingyu: homemade edibles

vernon gave him a homemade rice krispie once and he swore it wasn’t hitting so he ate another one... and then passed out on the couch. after vernon gave him the recipe, mr. professional chef here decided he likes to bake them himself but somehow always ends up measuring it wrong and makes them way too strong. on accident or on purpose? we may never know. most likely both. he gets so high he can’t even stand up straight, most giggly and cuddly person you’ve ever seen #2

seokmin: cbd gummies

he takes them to relax or to help him fall asleep rather than to get super high. but he still wanted to feel included with the members who smoke so he tried to buy a cart one time but he bought a melatonin pen on accident instead and they never let him live that down

seungkwan: normal shaped bong (clean)

he takes good care of his stuff and he’s serious about it! he had a bad experience with mold once and now he’s paranoid about remembering to change the bong water. he cleans it daily and keeps everything nice and organized, and he has a bedazzled grinder because if he’s gonna smoke then he’s gonna do it in style obviously

vernon: also literally anything

he’s honestly down for whatever. he prefers smoking over edibles but he doesn’t care if it’s a joint, a pen, a bong. also depends on his mood but the majority of the time it’s whatever is the closest within reach and requires the least amount of effort

chan: 4ft tall bong

how? why does he have that? where did he get it? huh? those are all questions he doesn’t have the answers to either. it’s more of a mascot than anything; it sits in the corner of his living room like a lamp and he doesn’t even use it. he uses a regular bong the majority of the time but only because he’s afraid of breaking the sacred Tall Bong. it’s a big hit at parties

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if this made you laugh, consider leaving a reblog! i'd love to hear your thoughts :) feedback shows me that this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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#kvanity #kflixnet #k-labels #caratlibrary #[📌] — june.writes #svt scenarios #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #svt imagines

[goosewriting]

Across the Galaxy and Beyond

summary: some time after the Mantis crew split apart, Cal has an unexpected reunion with reader on Koboh

relationship: Cal Kestis x gn!reader

warnings: spoilers for Jedi Survivor, vague-ish mention of events from the Battle Scars book but i don't think it counts as a spoiler, hurt & comfort, flashbacks, kissing

word count: 8.9k 👀💧 ...i am unwell about this man what can i say

A/N: started writing this when i first started jedi survivor, and finally got around to finishing it now that i finished reading battle scars and the cal kestis brainworms are attacking me again. story doesn't follow the game exactly. also this could be read as a separate story from my wherever you go, i go trilogy, but i like to think it's the same reader and timeline lol so go read that if you haven't c:

Navigation: Part 1 (you’re here!) | Part 2 (wip)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — — Part 1: Just like old times

After Cal's escape from Coruscant, the Mantis was pretty shredded. The main problem was the gyro, but upon entering Koboh's atmosphere, all systems started failing and the Jedi had to make an emergency landing somewhere on some cliffs. 

It took a lot of climbing and wall-jumping and fighting the aggressive local fauna, but after a couple of hours, Cal and BD finally made it to the outpost where Greez' cantina was located. On the way there he also encountered bandits who called themselves the Bedlam Raiders, as well as old Separatists battleships and battle droids, of all things. Just what has Greez got himself into?, Cal thinks to himself after saving a local from Rayvis, the leader of the Raiders, and outing himself as a Jedi in the process.

When Cal and BD finally enter Pyloon's Saloon, they meet with Greez. Since the Raiders have just been at the saloon (and the place doesn't look all too inviting either), there are no customers, so Cal and Greez catch up at the bar. The Latero is extremely happy to see the boy and his droid in one piece after all this time. Over a drink, the redhead tells him about the last job on Coruscant gone wrong, how only two of them made it out. He expresses his frustration, how the Empire is only growing stronger and everything he does feels pointless. Things haven't been easy since the Mantis crew split up. 

After catching up a little, Greez tells Cal that he has some spare parts and will take care of the ship. He'll send someone to bring the ship to the landing dock behind the saloon. In the meantime, he should take a breather and explore the outpost. Cal doesn't like feeling like he's wasting time, but with the state the Mantis is in, there really isn't much else he can do. 

The Latero shows him the room in the basement, telling Cal he can stay as long as he needs. Greez wasn't kidding when he said he had a room just for Cal: there was a meditation area in the middle of the round room, and even his old clothes and some unfinished tech projects were all stashed away in a big chest. 

They both sit down on the edge of the bed, and it doesn't take long for the conversation to take a direction Cal doesn't like. Not because what Greez is saying is wrong; on the contrary, he's probably right, but the redhead doesn't want to hear it. Not right now. Greez, in a genuinely concerned tone, goes on about how the game is rigged and Cal should walk away while he can, maybe even settle down somewhere. Cal lashes out for a moment, claiming someone has to keep fighting.

— — —

You approach the stable in the outpost riding on your nekko, humming a happy tune to yourself. You're lost in thought, letting your trusty mount walk the last stretch to the stalls by himself, as he knew the way. Once you reach the structure, you get off and start putting away your haul; you just came from a successful hunt. You'd skin and prepare everything later though, so you pack the preys away in special boxes where everything would be preserved for a couple of days. 

“Hello master,” a robotic yet chirpy voice greets you. 

You turn around with a smile, facing the Separatist battle droid you had found and reprogrammed to help you out at the stable.

“Hey there, Connor,” you greet back. You've told him several times not to call you that, but he insisted, saying you saved him and now his purpose was to serve you. You take a moment to inspect his blue and black markings that have started chipping more noticeably; maybe it's time for a new paint job.

“Did I miss anything while I was gone?” you ask, taking the saddle off your nekko and placing it onto the designated wooden beam. 

“Yes, in fact,” Connor replies, placing new food and clean water in the trough. “There's a ship on the landing pad behind the saloon that I've never seen before.”

“Is that so? What kinda ship?” 

“A modified S-161 Stinger, and it's pretty busted up. I'm surprised it even made it this far.”

You stop in your tracks, your grip tightening around the halter you just took off the nekko, which is now happily munching away on its fresh feed.

“Interesting,” you remark, putting the rest of the equipment away and turning around to face the droid. Since you spent most of the day down in some caves, you didn't see or hear anything. “Do you know who was on board?”

“I didn't see who came off the ship, but I overheard some prospectors talk about a newcomer that went one on one with Rayvis,” Connor comments, then leans in closer to you, looking around as if to make sure no one would be listening in on your conversations, when it's clearly just the two of you at the stable. “I also heard Turgle mentioning a Jedi being seen around here.”

“Huh,” is all you manage to say, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. There was no way he was here, right? After all this time? As far as you know, he doesn't even know you're here. So if it is him, he isn't here to see you, but Greez instead. It's probably because of the Mantis; Cal is in need of repairs. This thought immediately replaces the initial anticipation with a strange, cold feeling. 

“Can you believe it?” Connor goes on. “I've never even seen a Jedi. I would love to meet them.”

You take a long look at the droid, remembering the state you had found him in. He had never been in the war, actually. He spent several years in an abandoned Separatist camp, never even getting to be activated. So he only knew his programming: serve the Separatists, fight the clones and kill the Jedi. Yet he had never lived any of it. Reprogramming him had been easy in that regard, as his memory banks were mostly blank. Back then you were looking for a droid companion to help you out at the stables, and even though you know what battle droids mean to the Jedi, you can't help but think that they are kinda cute. The B1 models, at least. The B2 series and commandos are pretty scary. 

So you gave your new friend a name (you couldn't decide between Hank and Connor, but decided to go with the latter as it somehow suited his demeanour better) and a new purpose in life, and he seems content with that. The only fighting program you left in him is for defending the stable and nekkos. First and foremost it is his mission that they are not harmed. You also ordered him not to leave the outpost, for his own safety. You don't want the raiders to find him and get access to his memory bank. They would use the information against all of you at the outpost, and either scrap him or reprogram him to join the raiders. Once they were dealt with, however, you promised Connor you would take him around Koboh first, then show him the galaxy. 

“I'm going to the saloon,” you announce. “Can you take care of the rest?” 

“Roger roger!” Connor replies with a salute, getting to work. 

You find yourself smoothing out your clothes and hair as you make the short trip to the saloon. When you reach the bar you're met with Monk, the witty bartender droid. He greets you with a happy tone and some strange phrase that you don't entirely understand, as he always does. You ask for Greez, and he points towards the door to the side, saying he's in the basement with some old friend of his that just dropped by.

With a gulp and a forced smile, you thank him and head down the stairs. The urge to turn on your heel and run away grows with every step. As you're about to reach the door, you hear voices coming from the other side.

“-to be something more than a lightsaber.” That's Greez, you think. He sounds… sad? “Think of yourself. Settle down, find a home.”

“What home, Greez?” You swear your heart actually stops beating and accelerates at the same time when you hear the voice, his voice. “There is no home. Home was the Order. It was my teacher.”

You've stopped a couple steps away from the door so it wouldn't open and have you interrupt the conversation, but you involuntarily lean forward to hear better what Cal says next.

“It was everyone I lost… Home was the Mantis with you, Cere, Merrin, and–”

The automatic door whooshes open and Cal and Greez turn their heads towards you as they stand up from the bed they were sitting on. 

“I- I didn't mean to eavesdrop,” you sheepishly state after a moment of uncomfortable silence from everyone, approaching him but staying at a distance. “Hey, Cal. It's been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” he retorts, and you can't really read the tone of his voice. 

You look each other up and down, taking in how different you both look since… Since the last time you saw each other. Since you split up. 

A thousand thoughts go through your head, and a thousand different feelings resurface, making your heart tighten in your chest, like there isn't enough space for everything it's trying to process.

Greez can't take the tension anymore, so he clears his throat loudly.

“Lemme show you something, Cal,” the Latero says as he walks towards a panel on the far side of the room. He presses a couple of buttons and a section of the wall slides open with a creak, revealing a path behind it. “This is an old smuggler's tunnel, you'll find spare parts in there. Just… be careful, I have a pest problem.”

With that, Greez walks by both of you, giving your arm an encouraging pat, before leaving the room. It's just you and Cal now.

“Spare parts?” you ask, trying to make some conversation. “For the Mantis, I take it?”

“Yeah,” Cal replies, looking at the tunnel entrance but not moving from where he stands. “Gyro's fried.”

You two stand there in silence, and you want to smack yourself in the face. You feel like an awkward 12-year-old all over again, not knowing how to talk to your cr– You stop your train of thought before you dare finish that sentence and potentially embarrass yourself further. The heat on your cheeks that refuses to leave your face since you've laid eyes on the Jedi can't possibly have gone unnoticed by him.

“You know, Greez has had this room set up for you for quite a while,” you tell Cal, shooting him a quick smile. “So I take it you'll be staying for a while, right? The Mantis isn't going anywhere.”

Cal shrugs and shoots you a quick, unsure glance, then casts his eyes back down, scratching the back of his neck. 

“I was just about to head out,” you lie. Your plan for the evening was to have a drink at the bar and unwind, but him being here changes everything. “You could join me and I'll show you around if you'd like…”

Cal looks at the tunnel again, weighing the options in his mind. One is going down there to fix the Mantis as soon as possible, then taking off to who knows where. The other… you're not so sure. And if you're being honest with yourself, you're too scared to ask.

“Sure, why not,” he finally agrees with a sigh and starts walking towards the door that directly leads outside from the basement, but you feel like something, or rather someone, is missing. You look around the room, scanning your surroundings for a certain droid, then turn back to Cal.

“W-Where's BD?” you ask, fearing the worst. You'd really hate it if something happened to him.

“Oh, he wandered off somewhere earlier,” Cal says and you release a breath of relief. After calling for him, the little droid comes hopping down the stairs and into the room.

“BD!” you greet the little companion, and he excitedly beeps at your reunion. He comes running towards you and you pick him up in a hug.

“Oh, how I've missed you,” you spin him around a couple of times, then set him back down onto the floor. “I have a droid of my own now, but you're still the cutest. Don't tell him, though,” you add with a wink. 

“You have a droid?” Cal asks as BD climbs onto his back and you all make your way out.

“Yeah, he helps me out at the stable,” you explain, pointing at the building as you reach the end of the stairs. The stable is practically behind the saloon. From these stairs it's a very short trek to reach the paddocks.

“Those are nekkos, right?” Cal questions, approaching the fence and looking at the two animals chilling in the sun. “I met Mosey earlier. She said she worked at the stable,” he turns around to look at you. “But she didn't mention you.”

You're about to retort by saying she couldn't have possibly known that you two knew each other, but you're interrupted by a chirpy voice.

“Master! You're back already?” 

At the sound of the familiar robotic voice, Cal instinctively draws his lightsaber, and turns towards the side entrance to the stable. You hurry to get between your droid and the Jedi; you don't want to see Connor get sliced today. Not by him. Said droid peeks out from behind the archway, and BD beeps repeatedly, alarmed. 

“Wait!” you exclaim, holding your hands up into the air defensively. “That's my droid!” 

“Your- Your droid?” Cal repeats, clearly confused. He puts away his weapon nonetheless.

“He's reprogrammed, and he's never even been in the war,” you explain, walking backwards as Cal starts approaching the stable to inspect the battle droid further, with you still between them. “He was never even activated. He's good, I promise!” 

“Master, who's this?” Connor asks, walking back into the stable to make room for Cal and you. “Is he bothering you?” The droid activates the blaster you had built into one of his arms, and Cal's hand goes to the hilt of his sabre again, while BD beeps in exasperation. 

“No, stand down!” you order, and the blaster immediately turns off with a whirr. “Will everyone please calm down?”

Still standing between Cal and the battle droid, you let out a huff, looking from one to the other. 

“Cal, BD; this is Connor, my droid,” you start introducing them. “My good and reprogrammed droid, whose mission is to protect the stable and the nekkos, nothing more.”

Cal seems unimpressed, still looking at Connor with narrowed eyes. You turn to the droid.

“Connor; these are Cal and BD,” you start. “And you know what? Cal here–” You look at Connor with raised brows and lower your voice. “–is a Jedi.”

Connor brings his hands up to where his mouth would be, gasping in surprise. 

“You- You are?” he asks, quickly going around you to take Cal's hand and shaking it vigorously. “It's such an honour! I've always wanted to meet a Jedi!”

“So you could get up all close and stab me in the back?” Cal retorts, his voice laced with uncharacteristic venom, and pulls his hand from the droid's grasp.

“What? No, I–” Connor starts but you push him to the side a bit.

“It's okay, Connor. He'll warm up to you, eventually,” you comfort him. “Please go get the nekkos ready for us?” 

You've never heard a sadder 'roger roger' in your life and it sends a sting of pain through your chest. 

While the droid goes to prepare your mounts, you turn around to Cal and frown at him. He crosses his arms in front of his chest defensively. 

“Why would you say something like that? He's genuinely excited to meet you,” you explain. “When was the last time someone was actually happy to see a Jedi, hm?”

“Not a battle droid, that's for sure,” Cal retorts with a huff. 

You look up at him for a moment, holding his rather cold gaze. You wonder just what happened these past few years that had him like this. Sure, you understand why he isn't a fan of battle droids. Normally you aren't either. But there's just something about Cal that's… different. He looks older, but it might just be the beard. He also looks more tired, carries himself differently. With confidence like he always did, but also in a “don't mess with me” way that wasn't there before. Gone is the spark in his eyes, that glimmer of optimism and hope, replaced by the promise of not holding back if anyone were to cross him. 

For several moments, you just look at each other, and you're sure he's analysing you just as you are him, and you wonder what is going through his head. 

“The nekkos are ready,” Connor announces, leading both of them out of their respective stalls by the reins. 

You allow the animals to sniff Cal and inspect him, while you give a short explanation on how to ride and guide them. Cal's mount is white with a dark face and legs, while yours is a dark purple and brown. After thanking Connor and waving him goodbye, you both hop onto the saddle and head out of the outpost. You know your way around, taking a route that would keep you hidden from the patrols, both the imperial ones as well as the raiders. You'd much rather deal with the local fauna. And you do come across a couple of rawkas at the river, and a pack of gorgers when heading further up the Southern Reach. But you two make quick work of them.

In fact, Cal has grown stronger, and not only that, but he also has a new array of weapons it seems; now he double-wields his lightsabers, and he also has a blaster, which completely takes you by surprise. 

Once you reach the base of the big silo, you get off your nekkos and climb the rest by foot, getting on top of the structure and sitting at the edge. It's not a super well-hidden spot; if the patrols under you decide to look up they would definitely see you, but it's a good vantage point to show Cal the different places. You point towards the landmarks, explaining them to him so he can orient himself and navigate beyond the outpost. You tell him about the caverns, the mines, to look out for different patrols and what areas to avoid; be it because of the raiders, like fort Kha'lin, or because of bigger fauna like bilemaws, goroccos and mogus. Especially mogus. They are fierce.

Once you're done with your explanation, you lean back onto your hands with a sigh. Cal attentively listened to everything, but he doesn't seem interested in keeping the conversation going, as he hasn't said anything.

He's looking out, scanning this corner of Koboh as far as he could see from here, taking in the view and probably trying to commit to memory everything you've said. You look at him from the corner of your eyes, your gaze falling onto the holster on his hip.

“So,” you try starting the conversation again. “You now double-wield and you have a blaster. Which, by the way, is pretty uncharacteristic for a Jedi, no?”

“A lot has changed, I guess,” is all you get out of him.

“Do you have any other new tricks?” you ask, and the memory of him re-discovering his Master's lessons after his escape from Bracca comes back to you, making you smile fondly to yourself for a moment. 

“Hmm,” Cal thinks aloud, also leaning back and finally tearing his eyes from the landscape to look at you. “There aren't any new Force-tricks, if that's what you mean. But I do have this.”

He brings one of his arms up, showing you the contraption on his brace.

“Grappling hook. Comes in pretty handy,” he explains, showing you some of the mechanisms. Your hands reach up to gently hold his wrist, so you can inspect the device better, and you could have sworn you heard his breath hitch at the contact. At that moment, you realise that's the first physical interaction you've had since he arrived, and you quickly let go. 

“We should head back,” you say as you stand up, dusting off your legs. “It will get dark soon, plus you must be hungry. I know I am.”

“Yeah, I could eat,” Cal replies, getting up to his feet as well, and BD beeps in agreement.

Cal climbs down the silo first, while you scan the area one last time for any patrols. When it's your turn, just as you're almost at the base of the rather unstable ladder, your foot slips and you lose your balance. You hold onto the next best thing, which happens to be Cal. Seeing you're about to fall, his arm reaches around you and he pulls you towards him while with the other hand he tightly holds onto the railing that goes along the walls of the structure. 

“You okay?” he asks, and when you look up at him this time, you're finally met with a pair of eyes that you recognise. There's concern in his gaze but also a certain warmth, amused at how you were a fierce warrior yet managed to be clumsy in small things like these. He found it cute, which you knew for a fact because he would tell you often, back then…

“Y-Yeah, thanks,” you mutter, separating yourself from him now that you're back safe on the ground. Feeling the heat spreading on your face, you can't help a sheepish smile. “Guess some things never change, heh.”

“Guess not,” Cal says with a small smile of his own, and your chest tightens at the sight. 

The ride back to the Outpost is silent, and you wonder if his body is also reacting as strongly as yours; ever since slipping, your skin feels like it's tingling, and your heart hasn't calmed down in the slightest. 

Once you're back at the stable and the nekkos have been taken care of, Connor mentions that Greez left some food for you, and hands you several small containers wrapped with a cloth. 

“You wanna eat at my place?” you find yourself asking Cal, who's scratching behind the nekko's ear. He turns around to you with raised eyebrows in what you assume to be a surprised expression, but he's quick to relax his face back to normal. 

“I have a room behind Doma's shop,” you explain, holding up the food in your hands and you gesture to it with your chin. “And Greez knows this is far too much food for myself.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Cal replies, calling BD back to him, who was scanning some stable equipment. “Let me help you with that.”

Cal takes the food off your hands, and you say your goodbyes to Connor, who stays at the stable. It's a quick trip past the saloon's entrance into Doma's shop. She's behind the counter organising some of her merchandise, and returns your “hello” from afar without looking. Only when she hears Cal's greeting does she turn around. She shoots you a look and you know exactly what she means, heat prickling again at your cheeks. You give a curt shake of your head, quickening the pace to evade Doma's questioning, heading for the door at the back that leads to the place you have been calling home for the last year. 

It isn't much, but it makes do: one big room, that's both kitchen and a living space, with two doors at the far side that lead to a small bedroom and the refresher. The main room is decorated, you like to think it's warm, cosy and inviting. You even managed to thrift an old couch somewhere, refurbished it yourself, and it now essentially serves as the centrepiece of the room. There are several rugs on the floor, as well as piles of pelts and leather in the corner that you still have to finish working on so you could sell them. These days that's your main source of income.

Cal stands at the door for a moment, taking everything in, and you suddenly feel very self-conscious. The space is clean, but the fact that you can't read his face makes you a little nervous. To distract yourself, you take the food from him, bringing it to the kitchen counter.

“I think the food is still warm,” you say as you start opening the containers, the delicious smell filling both your noses. “Do you mind setting the table?”

Cal and you make quick work of getting everything plated and grabbing some drinks, then sitting down in front of each other at the wooden table to eat. You make some light conversation between bites, catching each other up on what has been going on in your lives recently. He tells you about some of the missions he's been on ever since the Mantis crew split up, and you tell him of your own solo adventures before you came to Koboh. 

When the plates are empty, your bellies full, and the conversation is about to die down, you ask if you can check out Cal's lightsabre. He unclips it from his belt to hand it to you, and you catch yourself being relieved at the fact he still trusts you enough to just give his sacred weapon to you without further inquiry. 

He's changed some parts and the materials, and you hold the device in your hands with the utmost care, admiring the beautiful design and intricate markings on the wooden accents. Rather suddenly, a feeling of regret and shame spreads out in your chest, thinking about how not only this sabre but also Cal himself went through so many changes, and you hadn't been there for any of it. There's so much you want to tell him, about how sad you are that you weren't there for him, about how sorry you are with the way you left, about how you've been thinking of and missing him every single day. But telling him that wouldn't be fair. You have no right to be selfish like that.

“So what exactly happened that got the Mantis in such a state?” you decide to ask instead, reaching the lightsabre over the table to give it back. Cal takes it with a deep sigh, putting it back to his belt, feeling immediately comforted by its familiar weight. 

“A job on Coruscant that went… wrong,” he starts, telling you how his team was gathering intel for Saw Guerrera, and it had all worked out until the very last moment, where everything went wrong, and he lost his whole crew in an instant. Only him and another person made it out of there. In fact, one of his crew members saved his life by pushing him out of the way and taking the blaster shot herself instead. 

You listen intently, and your heart grows heavier by the second; you can hear the frustration in his voice, the voice of a man who's this close to giving up entirely, because he's just so tired, but he can't. He won't. You know Cal took it upon himself to fight the Empire by himself if he has to. A trait you genuinely admire but also despise. After all, that was one of the reasons you left.

Then he mentions the Ninth Sister, and your attention is fully back to what he's saying. 

“I tried to get through to her, I really did,” Cal says, his voice cracking for a second. “But she wouldn't let up. I had no choice.”

“Did you…?” you ask carefully.

“I killed her,” he says matter-of-factly, but you can tell it's been eating away at him.

“I'm so sorry, Cal,” you offer, reaching across the table and placing your hand on his. “That couldn't have been easy. I'm sorry you had to go through that.”

He doesn't meet your eyes, his gaze fixed on his half empty cup instead, watching the drops of condensation slowly fall along the outside of the glass onto the table, staining the wood. But he doesn't pull away either, so you give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You look exhausted,” you finally tell him, and he lets out a breath through his nose, as if saying 'you have no idea'. You offer for him to take a shower here instead of at the saloon before heading back, telling him yours is nicer, to which he chuckles lightly, and he accepts. 

He insists you take a shower first while he takes care of the dishes, so you do just that. Once you're out, it's his turn. You hand him a towel and a change of clean clothes, and you can tell he wonders why you have them in his size, until he realises that they're actually his. It's an old shirt and lounge pants that you would always steal from him and had apparently taken with you. He doesn't comment on it though, instead he simply stares at the clothes in his hand for maybe a second too long, deep in thought. Then he blinks a couple of times, as if he just came back from zoning out, gives you a short 'thanks' and gets into the shower. 

While he cleans up, you take a seat on the couch, pulling up the novel you're currently reading on your holopad. Only now that you're sitting with your legs stretched out along the length of the cushions do you realise how tired you are, both physically and emotionally. Out of everything you could have thought would happen today, meeting Cal was certainly not on the list. Still, you can't deny that you're happy to see him. For starters, he's still alive. And you've missed him, much more than you care to admit to yourself. 

After reading the same sentence of your book over and over, failing to focus, you sigh and look at BD instead, who hops onto the coffee table and tilts his head at you with an inquiring beep. 

“Has he been taking care of himself?” you ask the droid, pointing over your shoulder in the direction of the refresher, where you can hear the water running.

BD lets out a sequence of beeps and boops, and you narrow your eyes at him for a moment. 'He keeps himself busy' he said. Is he dodging your question?

“Is that so,” you reply with a hum, and BD shoots the question right back at you. You're a bit surprised at his concern, and for a moment you consider opening up to the little droid, but you hear the water turn off, so you bring your attention back to your book again instead, trying your darndest to focus on what's happening in the story. The washroom door opens with a whoosh.

“Where should I put the towel?” Cal asks, still standing at the door frame. 

“Just put it in the hamper underneath the sink,” you reply over your shoulder, and in the corner of your eye you can see BD still looking at you, waiting for an answer. Then he tilts his head with an amused boop; he's got you all figured out. 

“Oh shush you,” you start scolding the little droid, but Cal appears, walking around the couch to sit down. Except that your legs are stretched across it, so you start lifting them off the cushions and intend to bend them at the knee to sit properly, but Cal gently grabs your ankles, lifting them off the couch to sit down, and places them over his lap instead. His hand comes to rest on your shin, and you can feel the warmth he irradiates seep through the fabric of your pants. 

“You looked comfy,” he points out, his hand gently rubbing up and down below your knee, while with his other hand he props up his head against the back of the couch. 

You swallow hard, unable to answer, and bring the datapad up to your face to hide behind it. Why is he being so nice suddenly? Is it because you aren't outside where others could see? Or is it because he realised he still has you wrapped around his finger so he's just teasing you? You're beyond confused at the sudden sign of affection after he's been so distant the whole day, like he hadn't planned on ever seeing you again. And to be quite honest, you deserve the cold treatment. After what you did, the way you left. 

Feeling the sting behind your eyes, knowing what's coming, you shrink further into yourself, holding the holopad even closer to your face to hide it from Cal's view. He can't see your expression from where he's sitting, so he gives a light chuckle, thinking you're just flustered. The sound feels like a dagger in your gut, and you unsuccessfully choke back sob.

Now Cal's face changes completely to one of concern, and he pushes the pad out of the way only to be met with your crying face. 

“Whoa, wait-“ Cal says, and he retrieves his hands, holding them both up in surrender. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- I thought we-“

“I'm so sorry, Cal,” you croak, crying freely now, as you let go of the device and it falls onto the floor with a 'clunk'. “I'm so sorry for everything, for what I did. For leaving you alone.” Your hands wipe away at your cheeks in a vain attempt to dry off the tears, but they just keep coming. 

After the crew split up, the Mantis felt unbearably empty. After the failed mission on Hosnian Prime, after saying goodbye to Fret and Irei, who had definitely changed the dynamics of the crew (you still weren't sure if it had been for better or worse), everything felt like it started falling apart. 

The first to leave was Merrin, saying she needed to recentre her fire and find herself again, to be able to draw all the power she now knew she was able to use. 

Then, it was Cere and Greez. The Latero trusted Cal and left his beloved ship in his hands, telling him to look after it until he'd be back. Except everyone knew that he didn't really intend to. The loss of his arm had hit him harder than he wanted to admit, and for Greez it had been the wake-up call needed to “leave the game while you can because it's been rigged since the start”, as he would often say. Cere on the other hand took off with new-found determination. Her and Cal's goals weren't all that different: the endgame was to defeat the Empire, one way or another. However, Cal believed in taking action now, while Cere had her sights set on the future, being able to help those who would come next, long after she and everyone else were gone. She wanted to build a legacy, as the 'Jedi's knowledge was far too valuable to be lost to time and circumstance. 

After everyone was gone, it was just Cal, BD and you. 

The Jedi had become irritable, like he had already convinced himself that you would leave him soon too, as did everyone, apparently. You reassured him to the best of your abilities that you believed in what he stood for and wanted to stay by his side. However, now that you didn't have a whole crew to count on, you had to be more careful than ever.

“We have to be smart about this!” you'd plead, seeing Cal running head-first into danger time and time again. 

When the nightmares became too much, you'd hold him tightly, kissing his tears away as he'd cry out for his master, Tapal.

“You were just a kid!” you had yelled at Cal one time, when what was supposed to be a quick run-down of the plan had become a big argument. “You act as if the whole universe is counting on you and only you to defeat the beast that is the Empire. Do you think that that's your destiny? As dictated by the Force? We've had our share of big, successful missions as a group. Now it's time to back down, Cal. We're just two people, what do you expect we'll achieve here? It's time to move on.”

Needless to say, those words had not calmed Cal down in the slightest. Now he felt just as betrayed by you as he did by the rest. More words were thrown at each other like daggers finally let free after being pushed back for far too long in an attempt to keep some level of normalcy between you two. But there was no going back. So you did what you told him as well: you moved on. That same evening, you packed your things and left. 

Your heart bled and tears kept streaking down your face with every heavy step you took away from the Mantis, but at the time, you didn't know what else to do. You'd never wanted to leave Cal, and you hated yourself for doing this to him and to yourself, but what you had going on was no way to live anymore. Maybe, hopefully, now that you were gone, he would understand that. 

You know it had been a horrible thing to do, especially like that. After years of telling him how you'd follow him to the end of the world. After telling him every day how much you loved him. After promising you'd be there for him. The worst part was that being away from him was far more painful than it was with him. He left a void in your heart that only he could fill. You meant to go looking for him many times, but were too scared. You didn't deserve to have him back. Not after what you did.

But now he's here.

Between cries, you apologise over and over again, saying how what you did wasn't fair, that you wished you had never left and worked it out instead, that you missed him so much it was hard to breathe. 

Cal doesn't answer immediately, and you force your somewhat blurry gaze up to meet his eyes, and you see he's starting to tear up himself. He leans forward, lifting you up and settling you sideways onto his lap, enveloping you in a bone-crushing hug. You hold him just as tightly, crying into his shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” The more you say it, the emptier it feels, but it's all you can manage for now, and you mean it. “I really am.”

“I know,” Cal says, squeezing you a little tighter. “I felt it. When you gave me the clothes earlier.”

You remember the countless nights you've cried yourself to sleep in the very clothes he's now wearing, the times when you missed him so much you felt like your heart would rip its way right out of your chest, muttering your regrets into your pillow, as if it could carry your apology and bring it to Cal somehow. You groan in embarrassment; you always forget that your stuff also carries imprints he can feel.

“I'm so lame,” you mumble and pull back to look at Cal, giving him a weak smile that quickly turns into a grimace again as a new wave of tears come rolling down your cheeks.

“No, you're not,” Cal reassures you, one hand cupping your face and wiping over your cheekbone with his thumb. You lean into his touch with a sniffle.

“I've missed you too,” he finally says, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “And I'm sorry—” He kisses your cheek. “—for making you feel like you were less important than the missions.” A kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You're the best thing that ever happened to me and I took you for granted.” His lips brush over yours. “Can we try again?”

You close the minimal gap and kiss him hard, like Cal was the air your lungs needed after being underwater for too long. He reciprocates just as intensely, pushing you down onto the couch and climbing on top of you. When he finally breaks the kiss, you're both panting. You run your fingers through his hair as he trails kisses along your jaw, and you giggle at how ticklish his beard feels against your skin; that's a new sensation you'd have to – no scratch that, want to – get used to. Your giggles turn into a low moan as he bites the spot over your collarbone, and when you turn your head to give him better access, you're met with BD still on the coffee table, now sitting comfortably, looking up at you two as if it was the most interesting spectacle in the world. 

A strangled sound of surprise and embarrassment comes from your throat and you push Cal away a bit by his shoulders, to which he raises his head and grumbles in annoyance for interrupting him.

“We have an audience,” you whine, hiding your face behind your hands, and Cal lets out an amused laugh. BD beeps matter-of-factly.

“What do you mean 'don't mind me'?!” You turn to the droid and you swear that if he had a face, he'd be wearing the cockiest of grins right now. 

“Some things really never change, huh,” Cal comments with an amused smile, thinking back to all the times you'd become flustered when you kissed in front of BD, saying it was inappropriate or something. If only you knew that Cal often did it on purpose because he loved seeing your cute, flustered face.

“Unlike this right here,” you point out and bring your hands to his face, stroking over his beard, enjoying the prickly sensation. “This is new.”

“Do you like it?” Cal asks genuinely.

“You know I like your scars,” you say, tracing over the one on his lower lip. “As long as they're not covered up, I think I can get used to it. It does look good on you.”

Cal smiles down at you tenderly and for a few moments, you simply enjoy each other's presence, taking each other in. Making sure that this is real and it's happening, that you're back again. Until you let out a hearty yawn. 

“Let's get to bed before we fall asleep on the couch,” you say, rubbing your face, but stop to look up at Cal, who seems very content with his current position and hasn't moved yet. “You are staying here tonight, right? I mean, if you want to, you don't have to. Greez has the whole room thing for you, so I understand if—“

Cal interrupts your rambling with a quick peck. 

“Yeah, I want to stay,” he assures you and finally stands up, helping you get off the couch. 

“Let's go, BD,” you tell the droid to join you as you take Cal's hand and guide them to the bedroom. 

You climb into bed, BD at your feet as he would always do on the Mantis, and Cal lifts the covers to get in as well but stops for a moment when he sees the holopicture on your night stand. In the small frame he recognises Greez, Cere, Merrin, Cal, BD and you in the cockpit, all grinning at the camera. Smiling to himself, he finally gets into bed, hugging you to him.

“I have the same picture of us on the Mantis,” he says after letting out a content sigh at finding a comfortable position. “Guess we still were connected somehow all this time.”

You hum in response, a bit surprised at the romantic implication, as if you were lovers who found comfort in looking at the same moon even though you were separated. But you like the idea nonetheless, and you agree. 

The warmth both on your skin and spreading in your heart makes quick work of carrying you off to dreamland though, so before you can even give a proper reply, you're fast asleep in Cal's arms.

— — —

The next morning, you wake up to BD's beeping. You groan, turning over to cuddle a little longer, except that the other side of your bed is empty. You blink away the sleepiness in your eyes, and pout at the lack of Jedi in your sheets. Your nose is quick to pick up the scent of freshly brewed caf however, and the grogginess is quickly forgotten as you get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen, where Cal is preparing breakfast. 

After a quick meal and lots of stolen kisses, Cal announces it's time to go check out Greez's smuggler tunnel to find that gyro. 

“Be careful,” is the last thing you tell him before he leaves. 

“Always,” he shoots back at you with a wink and takes off. You playfully roll your eyes at that, thinking back to the countless times on the Mantis you've had to patch him up after a mission inevitably went astray from the original plan.

While Cal is looking for parts for the Mantis, you go back to your own things, checking in on Connor and the nekkos at the stable, as well as preparing some pelts and sewing up your most recent leather project. 

Time goes by fast as you skilfully work the needle and thread through the thick material, finishing the piece after a couple of hours. Setting it aside, you stretch your arms and back with a satisfied grunt. You check to see if your comms are working; they are, but there's no new messages. Strange, you think, Cal sure is taking his time to find that gyro. Is he not back yet? 

Suddenly feeling uneasy by your own thoughts of how he might have got lost in the tunnels, or how he may have encountered trouble down there, you decide to go check with Greez yourself. 

You quickly make your way to the Saloon, going down the stairs that lead to the bar with such speed that when you reach the end and see someone standing there, you bump into them before you can stop yourself. 

“Whoa,” a deep voice exclaims at the impact, and you push yourself away from the man's back you just ran into. He turns around slightly towards you. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, didn't see you there” you reply, regaining your composure and walking around him to get a better look. 

He's not super tall, but he has a strong and broad build. Although you already felt that when you bumped into him and it was like walking into a wall. You give him a quick up-and-down, trying to gauge if he's friend or foe, but you can't quite read him. He narrows his eyes at you ever so slightly, probably doing the same.

“A new face, how rare,” you start, walking over to the bar and leaning on it with one arm. Your other hand finds its way to your hip, where you realise there is no holster or weapon; you mentally reprimand yourself for leaving your staff at the stable. 

“Care for a drink?” asks Monk from behind you. 

“No, I'm looking for someone,” the man says. 

“Of course you are,” Monk replies with sarcasm. You give the bartender droid a nod; you'll take care of this. As he wheels back into the kitchen, you hear him mutter something about how his bar isn't a lost and found counter. Before the stranger can go on however, the doors at the back of the saloon whoosh open.

“Who's this?” asks Greez as he enters the main room.

“I was just about to ask him,” you reply, your eyes still trained on the man.

“I'm looking for Cal Kestis,” the man in question says instead, and your hand on the bar involuntarily curls into a fist.

“Who? Kal Restis?” Greez asks as he approaches him. “We don't know any Kales. Listen, if you're not gonna order something, get out of my saloon.”

“No, not Kale”, the man says, getting slightly exasperated as he repeats the name slower, and Greez keeps getting it wrong on purpose. 

Just as you're about to intervene and send the man away, the entrance doors open and in comes Cal, a soft smile of self-satisfaction on his face. 

“Cal!” The man greets the Jedi. You hear Greez mutter “Oh, this Cal Kestis” under his breath as they clearly recognise each other.  

“I found the gyro,” Cal announces first, throwing a small mechanical part to Greez, who's taken by surprise but still catches it. Then he turns to the intruder with a smile. “You made it!”

“Good to see you, Cal,” he replies, and the two share a friendly handshake.

“Greez Dritus, this is Bode Akuna,” Call starts introductions, telling this Bode your name as well. You merely give him a short nod in acknowledgment as Cal continues. “He was on Coruscant. Wouldn't have made it out alive without his help.”

Oh, that changes things. 

You leave your spot at the bar and drop your rather cold gaze to join the group. Coming to stand next to Cal, you take his hand, and try your best to give Bode a thankful smile. He returns it, quickly catching on. 

“Wait a minute. Another one?” Greez quips, looking behind Cal. You were so focused on Bode, that you hadn't even noticed the strange looking droid that came in with the redhead. “Cal, you have a very bad habit of picking up strays.”

“I am ZN-A4,” the droid introduces herself with an exaggerated bow. The design and material she’s made of is something you’ve never seen before. “Humble servant of the Jedi Order.”

What.

“Oh, I take it you haven't broken the news yet,” Bode says to Cal, who sheepishly shrugs his shoulders. 

Cal then brings everyone up to speed, telling you how when he was in the tunnels with BD, they stumbled upon this old chamber where the droid was stuck, so they freed her. Turns out she's a droid that belonged to a Jedi from the High Republic, of all things. Her master, Sandari, had sent her to activate the so-called forest array (that strange building the other side of the river that doesn't quite fit in with the rest of the scenery; you've always wondered what it was but never found a way to get in). However, Zee, as everyone started calling the droid, is in really bad shape, and she'll never make it that far. She looks dejected as she says that if she fails her mission, then the key to Tanalorr may be lost forever. 

At the mention of the name, Greez chimes in, telling the group that there's an old prospector legend about Tanalorr being a world filled with treasure. But treasure or not, the important part is that it seems to be a real place, one potentially beyond where the Empire can reach: a safe haven. 

Zee is delighted and very thankful that everyone seems on board with her mission, and the group is quick to formulate a plan: while Monk gets her up to speed regarding the state of, well, everything, and she gets some much-needed repairs, Bode and Greez will take care of the Mantis. Meanwhile, Cal, BD and you will go to the forest array to check it out. 

As you're making your way to the stables, you nudge into Cal's side with your elbow.

“You didn't get hurt down there or anything, right? You sure took your time,” you ask him. It did not go unnoticed by you how in Cal's retelling of events, he skilfully left out how he happened to find that mysterious chamber in the first place. 

“The tunnels were pretty old and unstable, but we're okay,” Cal deflects, shooting the droid a quick look. “Right BD?”

BD beeps in response, and you shoot Cal a glare accompanied by a muted gasp, stopping in your tracks.

“You fell through a hole the equivalent of several stories?!” You can't believe this guy. 

“It's fine!” Cal tries to reassure you, bringing his hands up to your shoulders. “I promise, it's nothing a stim didn't already fix. So there’s no need to worry, okay? We have a job to do.”

You sigh in defeat as he places a soft kiss on your forehead. You first cup his face softly, then pinch both his cheeks.

“Just what am I going to do with you, Cal Kestis?” you ask rhetorically, taking his hand into yours and resuming the short trek to where Connor is already waiting and waving at you both. 

Once you're all geared up and hop into the saddle, you tighten the strap of your staff, adjusting its position on your back.

“Just like old times, huh?” you ask at no one in particular, scanning your surroundings and taking in the scenery; it just never gets old. Cal's nekko trots up next to you.

“Just like old times,” he repeats, with that boyish smile you can't get enough of, and the glint of adventure in his eyes. 

Your nekkos take off, and the freckles on his face seem to shine in the sunlight. They form the ever familiar star map that you'd follow time and time again, finding your way back to him. Because from the first time you looked at him, you knew: you'd follow this man across the galaxy and beyond.

— — —

A/N 2: if you understand the droid name reference you get a cookie 🍪

A/N 3: in the book Battle Scars there’s a part where BD tells Cal, and i quote, “Where you go, I go”, and when i tell you that i screamed omg (the first part of my “wherever you go, i go” fic was actually called ‘where’ but i changed it to ‘wherever’ when i added more chapters because to me it sounded better asdsdf) BD-1 and me sharing one brain cell obsessed with Cal fr😌

~~~~~

🐥 taglist: [link to join in my pinned post!] @dybynyght, @galaxtic-writings, @kalea-bane, @soka-writes-things, @padawancat97, @riddikulus-obsessions, @optimisticprime3, @starilicious, @ivelostmyabilitytoeven, @alternatescififandomelover

#goose feathers #cal kestis x reader #star wars cal x reader #jedi fallen order x reader #jedi survivor x reader #star wars x reader

[doubleddenden]

Man fuck Nijisanji and Anycolor.

It really says a lot when

A. 3 vtubers (as of current knowledge) graduated from their agency in just the last couple of months

B. Former alumni that joined another agency, like Vshojo, were genuinely shocked that 1. The managers did their jobs and did them on time, 2. The company cared about their goals and works with them to help reach it while trying to make things as easy as possible for them, and 3. Helped clear up MAJOR tax issues left from (highly implied) Niji.

C. They don't let their talent keep their youtube awards

D. Said company allowed management to bully and harass Selen to the point that she attempted SUICIDE (thankfully she's alive and well now, according to her on her past life twitter account, which she plans to use going forward).

The short of the final straw was that Selen spent $15k on a music video using a song she wanted to cover, and she got permission directly from the original singer (LilyPichu) because she knew it'd probably be a month or more before management approved. Apparently this wasn't good enough, so they privated the video and quietly suspended her for a month after she asked her followers to re-upload the video other channels because a lot of time, money, and effort went into it. After a long while of silence, Niji terminated her for saying things they didn't like about them (mainly the harassment) but framed it as defamation of their reputation, and seems to purposely be pouring gasoline on the fire by implying that she was also being harassed by other Livers of the company (something Doki/Selen did not mention in her tweets), seemingly to start a scapegoat witch hunt to distract from their own failings.

E. Many more issues, including poor financial compensation among others

When you as a company are more concerned with the reputation and revenue of your business and CEO than the ACTUAL LIVES of your employees, you deserve to crash and burn, and your CEO deserves every penny stripped from them and to be tossed to sea without a lifejacket.

I'm not even a Niji fan tbh, and I seem to have the strange habit of coming to watch them right before they announce graduation, POST Niji, or through Hololive collabs- still, as someone in love with the vtubing sphere from the art, talent, rigging, music, and much much more, and as someone who has ALSO dealt with unfair bullying and ALSO almost committed suicide a few times in my life, I am furious- not as a fan, but as a human.

In my opinion, if you're looking to become a vtuber and are maybe considering auditioning for Niji, I would strongly reconsider. Getting your foot in the door is one thing, but they reportedly don't even help their talents that much getting started either. Go indie or try another agency.

As with any business, the health and well-being of an employee is a big indicator of how they will treat you or their other employees. I pity anyone still staying with this company and I hope more talent jumps ship to either pursue other vocations, an indie vtubing career, or join a better agency, because there is something seriously wrong going on here when a vtubing agency has a higher graduation rate than most schools.

Edit: a correction by omission was made after I was made aware of an error by a reblogger. I had said previously that someone claimed NijiJP's statement did not mention the fellow Liver harassment- this was apparently misinformation made by a Niji defender. Line was corrected. If I've made any more errors, please tell me and I will correct it

#vtuber #virtual youtuber #nijisanji #nijien #selen tatsuki #tw: suicide mention #tw: suicide

[haikyuuwaifu]

1

Genre: Humor

Warnings: Swearing

MASTERLIST

THE UA ENTRANCE EXAM

“I can’t believe there are that many applicants this year.” Snipe mumbled, as Vlad King nodded, taking a sip of his own coffee. “Nezu refused to raise the acceptance rate, the creature's need for bloodshed is truly unmatched.” UA’s instructors were sprawled around the viewing area, making conversation. Shouta had just finished his first cup of coffee and was steadily working on the second, when the door made a sound. “All I’m saying,” A voice mumbled, “is that this entire exam is rigged for physical quirk users.” Shouta snorted into his coffee, making no move to acknowledge the newcomer. They were right, and each year he’s tried to advocate for a better test, to no avail. “I want to see my students overcome adversity, you know that.” Nezu quipped, giving Y/n a closed lipped smile. “So much for overcoming adversity when the testing system itself is rigged.” The woman scoffed. She was going to say more, but a little girls excited shout, brought her attention to a couch in the corner of the room.

“You’re the kitty hero from TV!” Eri shouted, jumping up and down. Y/n smiled, giving the little girl a friendly salute. “The name’s Y/n kiddo! Nice to meet ya!” She greeted, flicking her tail. “Eri Aizawa!” Eri shouted, launching herself at the woman. Y/n caught her with ease, and held her to her hip. “I think you’re right by the way.” Eri began speaking, reaching up to rub one of Y/n’s ears. “The test is rigged, and daddy complains about it everywhere, but this year he’s been extra grumpy because my big brother’s taking the exam. Hito wants to be a hero so so bad.” Eri sighed, as she continued stroking Y/n’s ears. Mic and Oboro watched the interaction, mouths agape as Y/n took everything in stride. Shouta, finally with the rest of the room, swiveled around, to see his daughter stroking the neko heroes ears. “Eri.” He scolded, moving to stand. Y/n held her hand out, giving the man a placating smile. “It’s alright, I promise.” “Eri, you know better than to touch someone without asking.” Shouta stated, his voice stern. Y/n held her out, and smiled up at the man again. “I promise you, it’s perfectly alright. While I’m sure your daughter has exceptional manners, I have feline features and children tend to forgo their home training in all the excitement.” Shouta gave Y/n a look, contemplating if he was going to say more, before nodding. “Either way, I apologize. I’m Shouta Aizawa, Eri’s father and pro-hero Eraserhead.” Teachers around the room whispered, as they watched the exchange. No matter who it was, Shouta Aizawa didn’t make it his business to introduce himself to anyone. “Pro-Hero Neko, Y/n L/n.” Y/n introduced giving the man a slight salute with her freehand. “Now Eri, why do you think your big brother is gonna struggle?” Y/n asked, taking the empty seat next to Aizawa. Her eyes scanned the testing area, and she could see her gremlin and his little friends. “Toshi has a brainwashing quirk, and UA only ever does robots.” She huffed, scanning the crowd. Behind them, Enji and Touya were having a quiet discussion with Mic and Oboro. “He can scrape by getting rescue points, but if he wants to get into the Hero course, he’s going to have to get a couple of big points.” Shouta mumbled, pressing the red button. Y/n’s ears folding toward her scalp as the loud buzzer went off, notifying the contestants that the exam had begun. “That isn’t fair at all.” Y/n whispered, her eyes flitting across the testing facility. “There’s a lot you can do with a quirk like that.” Eri nodded, snuggling close to the woman as the teachers began watching the exam.

To be continued in Pt.2

Prev/Next

#applause #bnha smau #smau #shouta aizawa #shota aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa x female reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #bnha x female reader

[onelatenight-longago]

Stepping Into the (Spot) Light

Warnings/Tags: Fem!Reader, Depictions of Violence and Torture, semi-soft Buggy, he's a danger but also a marshmallow of a man, life on the Big Top, becoming one of the crew, sexual tension and teasing, romance, finding freedom and found family

Description: Buggy plays the hero just the one time and now he's a got a new crew member who will change everything for him.

A/N: I'm going to double post this story, first in 1st person then again in 2nd person.

Chp. [1] [2] - First Person Chp. [1] [2] - Second Person (below)

You awoke on a soft bed, its satin red sheets wrapped gently around you. The room was dark, lit only by a small candle on the bedside table but it did not matter. You were too exhausted, too worn down and weary to focus on much more. Your body ached and your mind was clouded. All you could do was take in the warmth of the bed around you, and the smell of smoke, paint, and the faint scent of sweet apples. 

You had never known comfort like this and settled yourself deeper into the soft bed.

Too soon you were interrupted by a burly looking man busting through the door. “Wear this and come to the ring, you’ve got five minutes.” He spoke gruffly, throwing clothes down on the bed then turning and quickly stomping out, barely even looking in your direction.

Your heart slammed its way into your throat, the events prior now fully flooding back into your mind. Your escape from Wasp, the curious red smoke that crawled its way through town, the man who called out to you as you faded into unconsciousness. You had no clue where you were but the bonds Wasp had on you were gone and your cuts and scraps were carefully dressed and you were laid down comfortably in a bed so divine you were sure you were dead and in the afterlife. You should have been scared, surely waking up in a strange place. But instead you felt excited, the anticipation of what laid beyond this room drove you to your feet. The clothes thrown onto the bed were as equally beautiful as the bed you had found yourself in. It was a shimmering dress, tattered in all the right spots as to look nearly intentional. Fishnet tights, that the sight of made a blush crawl across your face. A red and white striped bandana and black boots, rough and well worn. 

You dressed quick enough and with a deep breath you opened the door, unsure of what lay ahead but certain that it was far better than being Wasp’s captive. 

As you wandered down the long walkway, clearly makeshift and surrounded by tattered canvas, it became clearer and clearer that you were in some circus tent. The myriad of people you had passed, barely sparing you a glance, were all dressed in either wild show costumes or jester-like outfits ranging from simple to intricate. The shouting of orders and questions and answers all around  you had begun to become overwhelming so you picked up your pace, following the winding walkway, hardly paying mind to the branching rooms.  

When you finally came to the end, faced with a canvas entryway, someone had finally stepped out and spoke to you. 

“You can wait in here.” A man stepped up, his green hair and absurdly large checkered scarf catching you off guard. “Come, there is tea laid out.” He stepped past you separating the canvas curtains and holding them open for you, gesturing for you to step through into the small room. “Please, sit and relax. I will be back soon to show you to your seat.” Without so little more an explanation he walked out the way you had come and you were left to take in your surroundings.

The room seemed small if only because it was stacked with so much equipment there was barely room for the plush couch and table sat off to the one side. As you made yourself comfortable and began to fix yourself a cup of tea you looked around, taking in the sight of unicycles, juggling pins, ropes and rigs of all sorts, silks and fabrics, whips and canes, torches, stands, platforms, mats, and so on and so forth. All the makings of any other traveling circus. 

It occurred to you that you supposed host was the clown-looking man who you had silently begged after Wasp’s torture. You wondered who he was, his image vaguely familiar. Clearly a clown, this was his circus, and the green-haired man mentioned coming back to show you to your seat. You sipped gently on the hot tea, conflicted on whether you should be anxious or excited. You settled on both, steeling yourself, resolving to keep your guard up but also resigning to just go along with whatever lay ahead.  You were free of Wasp, and though that meant potentially falling into the hands of another similar situation, you were interested in seeing where this silly little circus went. 

You were content with your pot of tea, cozy sofa, and more pillows than any one person should ever have on a sofa, so when your peace was interrupted by the green-haired man’s reappearance you shrugged the sense of comfort off and readied yourself. 

“If you’d like to follow me?” The man asked primly with a slight bow, he crossed the room and untied another canvas opening, holding the one curtain back and gesturing you through. With caution you followed his cue, stepping into a darkened room that was incredibly spacious. This must be the main event space. The man gestured to you to follow him and you soon found yourself settled into a plush wingback chair.

“Best seat in the house.” The man said with a smile before taking his leave. You sat and looked out, your eyes adjusting to the semi-darkness and seeing the empty circus ring form. It wasn’t long before the music started up and performers began pouring from what seemed every corner of the big top. You were entranced as you watched fire breathers stalk the edges while acrobats tumbled around them. Closer towards the center were the jugglers all juggling a mix of pins, knives, and lit torches. Just beyond them was another ring, this one with sword swallowers. Above it all aerial acrobats were swinging and tossing each other without a care. And in the very center of the ring was a lion standing amid a platform just big enough for it, while a tamer with a whip and chair antagonized the snarling and snapping beast. 

You watched on, your eyes tracking the fluid movement from act to act. You couldn’t help the smile spread across your face so wide it nearly hurt. You clapped and laughed and hollered, you had never seen such a show before. As the music crescendoed your breath caught in your throat, the acts had begun to pick up their pace and their stunts became more dangerous. You were in complete awe and wonder at their skillmanship. On the top of the crescendo, the lights fell while the performers continued on. The light of all the torches fire breathers instantly changed the mood of the show, the wonder of it all now had a darker and sharper edge to it. Slowly the performers cleared from the center of the ring and you watched on, nearly half out of seat, as a form began to build itself in the center. Before you could even begin to wrap your mind around what you had seen, the spotlights all immediately flickered on and zeroed in on the man in the center. 

It was the man whose eyes you met across the roadway as you lay gasping in pain in the dirt. He was smiling, something razor sharp but delighted all in the same expression. You threw yourself from your seat and clapped and hollered wildly as he spread his arms, clearly displaying himself as the curator of the wonderful show you had just had the pleasure of watching. 

“Thank you, thank you!” The man shouted, bowing dramatically. “However, this was but only the first act.” With a snap of his fingers his performers, all as one, ceased their acts and moved to the outer edge of the ring. Their smiles morphing into something more vicious. Slowly the house lights began to raise and it was then you noticed that you were not the only audience this show had. Off to the side in a set of bleachers, all chained and gagged was Wasp and his crew.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy the clown x reader fanfiction #buggy one piece #buggy fanfiction

[linddzz]

Dreamling Nonsense Masterpost

Looking for a fic? For a shit post? For a long winded au thread? Playlists? Got it here. Keeping it Dreamling for now until I really have the time to scour through my various fandom posts to collect the Big Hits.

Audacity in Human Form: E. main WIP. A post season 1 "let's see these two figure their shit out" exploration that's best described as two character studies stacked inside of a fanfic shaped coat. My main tagline for it is "it isn't unrequited, Dream just needs therapy." The fic exploring how the two weirdos I have in my head got together.

Fics/Tumblr Ficlets

"Audacity in Human Form" Series

Not exactly a structured chronological series. I have a pretty set version of my Dream and Hob in the canon!universe, so all the fics I write of them are just the same two dolls I'm bumping together in the same sandbox. They can be read in any order or separately, but there are characterization threads and things mentioned that tie them all together. I like to think that put together they can give fun context or more depth to each other :)

I'm less into Big Plots and more into just having fun bumping these dolls together and playing with how they interact!

It's a WIP and I write slow, as my job takes a lot of mental bandwidth.

(Other fics in the same series can be read even while the first isn't done! They don't really spoil much except for the fact that they do end up together. But of course they are.)

In Which Hob, a Shitty Wizard, Meets a Supposed Demon: Gen. Drabble ficlet on Tumblr as I start exploring my Shit-wizard Hob AU. More of a rough draft concept fic

Obviously: E. smut prompt fill one-shot. PWP. Dream is a needy eldritch pissbaby and also violently romantic. Hob scruffs him for some much needed gentle domming.

This Isn't the Trope: Teen. Lots of cussing. Johanna is agressively investigating an immortal man, Hob is looking forward to being dramatically rescued by his hot supernatural boyfriend. No one but Morpheus has a good time.

OTHER FICS/DRABBLES

Audacity in Human Form related posts (esp the ones that broke containment)

"Oysters have nightmares like this"

"Jokes on you, you're into that shit"

Hob: "no. Shut up. I'm talking now."

Characterization Notes aka: I'm gonna start bullying Morpheus

Other mutterings about writing or snippets are under the tags "#my fic" and "#audacity in human form"

AU Cooking:

I'm honestly better at coming up with every single detail for an AU without actually writing the fic, but I like playing in the sandbox and other people seem to have fun with them too :)

Human!AU. There are kinda two versions of this that I'm starting to meld together.

Red Flags AU post: Hob is hired to be the party ruining messy boyfriend, but cannot begin to compete with the insanity that is the Endless family and the Hot Mess Express Morpheus, who hired him. They fall in love instantly. "Why would I fix him??? He's perfect."

Red Flags AU 2: slight deviation from the OG where everything is the same, except Morpheus' messy friend Johanna accidentally introduces them and instantly regrets it. She did not anticipate Hob reacting to Morpheus' red flags like a charging bull.

Assorted Human!Morpheus facts

Shit-wizard Hob AU: where Hob is still immortal, except Death is his Endless buddy. He first meets Morpheus when trying to take up occultism at Fawney Rig (he's bad at it but is gonna stick around now. For reasons.)

Meta-ish Shitposting:

Hob meets Thessaly. Avril Lavigne's "Girlfriend" starts playing ominously in the distance when she doesn't appreciate how much of a needy clingy freak Morpheus is.

#1

#2

#3

Spotify Playlists:

I process Blorbo feelings with hyper specific playlists. Putting Dreamling and other fandom ones here bc I guess it's about time I share more of them

Audacity in Human Form PL: 1h33m fic specific. Set up to alternate Dream/Hob POV. Blatant "2012 fandom brain" indulgence in here.

Hot Mess Endless Express: 1hr45m the general Dream playlist. Not ship specific, all romantic songs are how I just see him in any relationship. Mostly serious, except when it isn't but especially when it isnt

The Devil of Fawney Rig: the playlist I imagine goes in Dreams head when he's stuck in a fishbowl and horny for revenge. Made with the shit-wizard Hob AU in mind

Newton Goes Kaiju All Over Everybody's Ass: 1hr it really is too bad that there was never a second Pacific Rim movie but wow isn't Dark!Geiszler a great concept? 🙃

EDDIE I MADE A PLAYLIST EDDIE: 44m Venom made a playlist for Eddie, isn't that nice?

Mountain Son: 1h30m Bagginshield Thorin feelings ahoy. Made with Mahrâna in mind.

The Bacchae: 1h. The soundtrack for the dream production of the Bacchae in my head. Meant to follow the progression of the play

The Huntress and the Maenad: 1h30m insane sapphic bitch in the woods solidarity

Mysteries: 7+hours!!!!!! The ongoing playlist for joining the cult of Dionysus and eating a billionaire in the woods

#masterpost #look i finally did it

[iicheeze]

3 MONTHS, 3 DAYS, AND 33 MINUTES

3 MONTHS, 3 DAYS, AND 33 MINUTES MASTERLIST

SUMMARY II you've always had feelings for your gray haired senior. To the point that you'd confess to the man in front of the whole Akademiya. Pitying you, he gives you 3 months, 3 days and 33 minutes to make him fall for you. Let the roller coaster of chaos begin!

PAIRINGS || Alhaitham x Gender Neutral Reader, slight Kaveh x reader

TW || FNAF lore dump, claw machines, false brand names put on purpose to avoid copyright, and bad aim

CHAPTER IV — arcade date?? more like FNAF lore dump

“ COME ON, KAVEH!! ”

A loud, hearty voice was heard outside the dorm room, with loud banging coming from the door.

The day has come where both [Name] and Kaveh finally have a free day and they have decided to go to the arcade for fun. Maybe, try to win some prizes.

For it is currently 9 AM, and Saturday. Seriously, they couldn't thank god more as it is the weekends where they're finally (temporarily) free from assignments.

So when the door finally opened, [Name] expected Kaveh to answer it.

Not the big, bulky, strong, big titty, gray haired senior they've been crushing on.

“ Kaveh's at his studio. Stop banging at the door already. ” Alhaitham stated, clearly annoyed by the endless amounts of continuous door knocking.

“ ... ” “ ... ”

“ OH- WAIT WHAT?!?! THAT LYING CUNT, HE PROMISED ME TO GO TO THE ARCADES TOGETHER TODAY. FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT. ” [Name] yelled, finally realizing what he said. Too busy to stare at his fat tits earlier.

“ I'VE BEEN LOOKING FORWARD TO IT, THE FUCK. I EVEN DRESSED UP FOR THIS. ” More yapping came out of the [Hair Color]'s mouth.

“ Will you shut up already?! I didn't sign up for you yelling your lungs out. ” The [taller/shorter] male massaged his forehead in annoyance.

“ ... Fine! You're going with me in exchange of Kaveh. Go dress up!! I ain't taking you out looking like this. ”

“ .. Excuse me? ” “ BLAME KAVEH FOR THIS, NOT ME. I CLEARED MY SCHEDULE FOR THIS, MAN. ” “ Alright, fine. Jesus Christ. ”

Kaveh, I swear to god. If you come back, I'll throw your art to the trash compacter.

FONTAINE ARCADE PALACE

The sign glowed in bright blue, as the two main protagonists stand in front of it. From the looks of the building, it seems to have 5 stories, and each floors glowing with bright lights.

“ Holy crap. It's beautiful. ” [Name] remarked, amazed by the sights.

“ Who'd waste their money on some arcade instead of public libraries. ” “ Uhh, Fontaine Co’ . Obviously. ”

As the two entered the building, glowing arcade machines were placed everywhere, claw machines, Maroi Kart machines, Cap Man, and more. Heck, there's even custom trash cans and posters from multiple TV shows and games.

“ This is truly heaven. ” It was so beautiful, [Name] couldn't help but tear up. While the [taller/shorter] man just deadpans.

“ C'MON!! Let's go to the dispensing machine and exchange our money. WE NEED THEM COINS TO PLAY. ” The [Hair Color] exclaimed gleefully, taking the male's hand before running to the nearby dispensing machine.

It's gonna be a long ass day and we all are here for it.

The Pokachu Doll falling from the claw for the fourth time was the last straw for poor [Name]. As they finally screamed in annoyance.

“ ARGRHSGSHSGSKHS STUPID RIGGED CLAW MACHINE. GIVE ME THE POKACHU DOLL DAMMIT. ” [Name] shouted, almost punching the machine before realizing that they could get a fine for it AND get banned from Fontaine Arcade Palace. Before putting their fist down.

Seeing this is so funny even Alhaitham couldn't help but chuckle.

“ Let me try. ” He spoke, gently pushing the [taller/shorter] person aside. Finally putting 5 coins in the claw machine.

2 minutes haven't passed yet, but he somehow got the Pokachu Doll safe and sound.

At first try too.

This man is too dangerous to be left alive. (And a virgin).

As the Pokachu Doll came out of the claw machine, the male took it before giving it to the [Hair Color].

“ HOW- I THOUGHT YOU DON'T LIKE ARCADES?? WHAT. DID YOU USE SOME KIND OF SORCERY?!?!?! WTF. ” [Name] beamed, confused as hell.

“ It's easy. I just use my brain and some calculations here and there. How ‘bout you use your brain next time? ” The man mocked them, a slight smirk showed in his face.

“ FUCK YOU AND YOUR STUPID BRAIN. I CAN DO THIS BETTER THAN YOU. ” The [taller/shorter] person declared, “ Pfft. Yeah, we'll see. ”

[Name] lost by 21 dolls Alhaitham managed to fish out from the claw machine.

“ Oh, Five Nights at Friddy's. ” Alhaitham claimed, as he saw a FNAF game machine while trying to get more Fontaine coins.

“ The game? I know that. It's really hard- ” [Name] scratched their cheek, having a slight flashback of them falling off their chair while playing FNAF 2 at their lecture.

“ I love the part where we find out that the one we're playing all along ever since the first game is the son of William Efton, Michael Efton. ” The male stated, “ What ” [Name] questioned.

“ You didn't know? Some player you are. ” Alhaitham sighed, “ YOU- ” “ Basically, ever since the start of the game. We were playing as Michael Efton, we've both seen that we keep signing up as a night guard at the restaurants of William Efton. The story starts when William Efton had a restaurant with- ”

Oh, no.

He's rambling.

No....

HE'S LORE DUMPING.

“ Can we just get the coins an- ” “ Shh, shh. ” [Name] was shushed with Alhaitham shoving his finger inside their mouth, forcing them to listen.

Taking it out, the [Hair Color] couldn't help but blush a bit. “ I'M NOT A BABY WTF DON'T SHOVE A FINGER IN MY MOUTH. ”

“ It silenced you, though. ” [Name] was speechless upon that statement, now letting out stammers and stutters.

“ Now, where were we? Oh right, William's son, Evan, was severely terrified and had PTSD signs near his father's creations, the animatronics. His older brother, Michael, found out and took advantage of it and.. ”

[Name] got lore dumped by the very same person who they have a fat crush on in within 2 hours.

By the time night arrives, and the clock strikes 8 PM, the two finally decided it was time to call off the day.

“ You may have won our bet of the claw machines.. BUT I STILL WON A PAIR OF KEYCHAINS!! ” [Name] stated, refusing to admit defeat. “ Good for you. I still won, technically. ” “ Ugh.. ”

“ Should I give the cookie keychain to Kaveh as a souvenir? It looks like the type of thing he'd like. ” The [taller/shorter] person asked, “ Don't know. It's yours. ” The gray haired male replied.

“ .. I'll give it to you then! ” [Name] remarked, giving the male the cookie keychain, while keeping the milk keychain with them.

“ Huh? ” “ It's for you! To remember this date! Ehehe! ” The [Hair Color] smiled gleefully, as the man finally takes the keychain with him.

“ Plus, milk and cookies! It's a good pair of a late night snack! You know? ” [Name] added, as Alhaitham kept looking at the cookies keychain.

A small chuckle was heard as Alhaitham couldn't help but smile a little from this stupid action.

“ You're so childish it's stupid. ” “ WHAT- UGH, IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, JUST GIVE IT TO KAVEH THEN! I'm going back to my dorm! ” [Name] grunted, stomping away angrily.

“ Hey! Did you tell [Name] that I was busy and I had sudden plans today? Where did you go anyways? ” Kaveh asked while the other male takes off his shoes at the porch of the door.

“ First question, yes. Second, I went to the arcade with them. ” Alhaitham replied calmly, “ WHAT?! AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?! PLEASE TELL ME THAT YOU SAVED A SOUVENIR FOR ME. OR, MAYBE [NAME] DID?! ” The yellow haired man exclaimed.

“ They did. But I'm guessing they're still petty that you had sudden plans and didn't tell them directly, so, they gave it to me. ” “ WHAT!? Oh god... Fine, I'll apologize directly tomorrow. Just PLEASE give me the souvenir!! ” Kaveh begged.

“ Hmm, let me think. No. Will you let me go now? ” Alhaitham answered, finally going to his room.

“ UGH, FUCK YOU DAMMIT! YOU'RE THE WORST OF THE WORST! ” Kaveh's yappings slowly stopped as the gray haired male closed the door on him.

Looking at the time from his phone, a little Cookie Keychain was seen dangling at the bottom of his phone. Before finally deciding to get to bed right away after such a long day.

He could just do his assignments tomorrow at 5 AM anyways.

TAGLIST || @star-star-fall-inlove @nachotrash @baelloraa @tanspostsblog @kalpie @makimakimi @nishayuro @zomzomb1e @sassy-cat-in-town @aloveablechaos @ceylestia @severedvigility @goubaia @6-022-10-23 @duhsies @suwnshine @xiaos-wife1 @kysrion @kunikuzushisbeloved @mariposa666haruka @sunsinrinn @milkm4nz @klementime @beesgobuzzbuzz @perhapseven7eggs @fluffyxcloudz @orionicchaos @1-800asimpforfugo @thelonelyarchon @hysteriablues @danseidol

BOLD MEANS I CAN'T TAG YOU!! IF THERE ARE ANY CHANGES TO YOUR USERNAME, PLEASE TELL ME! TAGLIST STILL OPEN!! <33

AUTHOR'S NOTES || srry abt the postpone ive been busy these past few days 😞 ANYWAYS DID U ENJOY 🥰🤭

#Spotify #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact x female reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x male reader #genshin x female reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin alhaitham #kaveh genshin #genshin kaveh x reader #kaveh x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x reader fluff #genshin alhaitham x reader #3 months 3 days and 33 minutes series