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star-doll-universe · 3 years

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Michelle Goes to Yakigashi Island

FINALLY FINISHED THIS! Oh my gosh, this took so long to complete, and I’m so glad it’s finally done. I hope you enjoy the final part of this little mini series I started for @one-piece-dumpster-fire

Have a lovely holiday everyone! Merry Christmas <3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“Cracker, why are you putting explosives in the picnic basket?” Michelle cocked her head to the side, a worried expression knitting her brow.

“They’re not explosives!” her fiancé exclaimed, holding up the offending rocket-shaped objects. “They’re fireworks! You can’t have a Founding Day celebration without them.”

“Oh.” Michelle bit her lip. “Is that really safe to bring to a party that kids are going to be at?”

“Are you kidding?! Oven’s sons will be furious if I don’t bring them.”

“Ok fine,” Michelle finally relented with a somewhat heavy sigh, “Just make sure they don’t crush the cookies. Giuseppe and I spent hours on those.”

Honestly, the young woman would like to admit that she was more than a little exhausted from this week. The planning process for her and Cracker’s wedding had been temporarily put aside somewhat when they received an impromptu invitation to Cracker’s older brother Oven’s home for a “Founding Day Party”.

Not long after moving to Tottoland, Michelle had learned that the citizens of each island in Big Mom’s territory celebrated the day they were assimilated into the empire as an annual holiday.

Apparently, today was the anniversary of that event for Yakigashi Island where Oven was Minister of Browned Food.

So, Michelle had to put her wedding planning on hold so that she could quickly prepare for the celebration. Initially, she had somewhat hesitated accepting her future brother-in-law and his wife’s invitation, but she knew that it would be rude to not do so, and Cracker seemed really excited about the party.

Plus, she remembered meeting Oven’s wife Samore at Winter’s tea party on Candy Island, and the woman had extended an invitation for a future visit. She supposed now was as good as time as any to take her up on that offer, even in the midst of her currently hectic life.

You are going to be the wife of a Minister of Tottoland, Michelle, the young woman had reminded herself. Not to mention he’s one of the sons of Big Mom, a Sweet Commander at that. Your life is probably only going to get crazier after you’re married.

Michelle mulled these thoughts over again as she finished the last of the packing for the trip, careful to navigate around Cracker’s fireworks. She’d prepared several batches of different flavored cookies with Giuseppe, and the couple was also bringing a bottle of spiced cider as a gift for their hosts.

Although, she supposed Spice might drink most of it. Michelle smiled to herself, remembering her feelings towards this party improving drastically when she learned Spice would be attending as a fellow Sweet Commander.

Sakura and Katakuri were also going to be there as well, along with Perospero and his family and even Smoothie was joining them.

Even if times were crazy, this party was still going to be fun.

“Ready to go, my dear?” Cracker asked, jerking Michelle from her thoughts. She looked up to see him holding his hand out to her, his trademark grin bright on his face.

“Yep. Let’s go,” Michelle picked up their basket and took his hand with her free one. The folds of her blue dress swished around her legs as she let Cracker lead her out of their lavish home and down to the docks of Cookie Town where his ship was waiting for them.

It would take a few hours to arrive at Yakigashi Island. Cracker predicted they should reach it by sundown, just in time for the party to begin.

~~~

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Cracker snarled through gritted teeth.

Michelle, meanwhile, was too absorbed in the startling sight before them to really offer up much of a response. Her eyes were wide in her face as she gawked up at the monstrous wall of fluffy white pastry that stretched out before them.

It rose out of the sea like the back of some bulbous sea creature, snaking across the line of sight of Cracker’s ship, dwarfed in comparison. It obscured the entire island from view as it drifted almost lazily in the scalding sea, which foamed and bubbled all around them like a living thing breathing.

“What is this?!” Michelle exclaimed.

“It’s some of the Popover rocks that line the coast of Yakigashi Island,” Cracker explained after shouting some orders to the Biscuit Soldiers they had manning their ship. “Sometimes they break off the mainland and drift out into the Boiling Sea. The heat causes them to expand and form something like a wall around the island’s borders.”

Michelle glanced back at the massive mound of fluffy pastry. “It looks like things got a little out of control.”

“You think?”

“What are we going to do?”

“It’ll take too long to sail around it,” Cracker proclaimed as he produced a Transponder Snail from his pocket. “I’ll call Oven.”

However, before Cracker could put the call through, Michelle saw a massive, gloved hand reach over the top of the Popover wall. She couldn’t help but scream as a huge face followed suit, falling onto her butt on the deck.

Cracker glanced at her. “What?” He then followed his fiancée’s terrified gaze to see the huge pair of red eyes peering down at them. However, he did not react in nearly the same way, he didn’t even reach for Pretzel resting at his hip.

“Oh. Hey there, Samore!” He called up to the massive person, who slowly straightened up to their full height, dwarfing the pastry iceberg floating in the sea. Michelle could now make out the familiar figure of a woman with warm brown skin and crimped dark brown hair that reached her waist. Her eyes were a deep red, and she was wearing marshmallows as earrings. The fluffy pastry mound now only reached her waist as the giant woman peered down at Michelle and Cracker’s tiny ship.

“Cracker, how lovely to see you again!”

Meanwhile, Michelle was still huddled on the deck of the ship, staring up at the massive woman before them with her mouth hanging open. “S-Samore?!”

“Hello, Michelle!” Samore’s voice echoed across the Boiling Sea as she smiled down at them, her teeth large and white, each the size of a house. “How have you been?!”

The other woman blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what she was looking at. “I’m not crazy right?! She was not this big when I first met her,” she said to Cracker.

Cracker chuckled at that. “I guess no one told you about Samore’s Devil Fruit power. She has the Human-Human Fruit, Model: Giant. That’s the whole reason why Mama wanted her to marry Oven, so that she could finally have a Giant in Tottoland.”

“Oh?!” Michelle’s eyes were still huge. “I see.”

“Do you want me to give you two a hand?” Samore called down to the couple, easily stepping over the wall of puff pastry and trudging through the Boiling Sea seemingly unfazed by the searing heat. Michelle soon noticed that she was wearing a pair of thigh high boots that looked a bit like the lower half of a hazmat suit, which was most likely protecting her skin.

Cracker grinned up at his sister-in-law. “If you don’t mind.”

“No problem at all.” Samore then knelt down and grasped either side of their boat as gently as she was able.

It still jostled them quite a bit and Michelle would have toppled over again along with several of the Biscuit Soldiers if Cracker hadn’t caught her.

“Easy does it, Sugar Cube,” he grinned down at her as he held Michelle against his chest.

The young woman felt her face grow hot in spite of herself.

Meanwhile, Samore had successfully lifted Cracker’s ship out of the Boiling Sea and now held the entire thing in both hands as gingerly as an egg.

The giant woman then turned and slowly clambered over the wall of puff pastry, trudging through the bubbling water in her protective boots.

Michelle clung to Cracker the entire time, trying to keep her knees from knocking as the Biscuit Soldiers scrambled about all around them, struggling to remain upright.

Cracker laughed as he took out Pretzel and stabbed it into the deck, giving him more of a solid footing as Samore trudge through the steaming water and towards Yakigashi.

The island in question soon came into view not long after they crossed the Popover barrier, slowly coming into focus amongst heavy clouds of steam, like it was gently floating closer to them out of the boiling water.

Gingerly, Michelle broke away from Cracker and slowly made her way to the edge of the ship, gripping the railing so she could remain steady while she peered down through the steam at the island before them while Samore slowly waded closer to it.

Yakigashi was another one of Tottoland’s larger islands. It seemed like everything on the island was made of some kind of bread or type of pastry. The city that spread out from the island’s center and stretched down its coast of fluffy rocks was comprised almost entirely of warm brown buildings with a heavenly baked aroma wafting from them.

Michelle inhaled deeply, a small smile forming on her face as Samore approached the dock at the edge of Yakigashi and then gently set their ship down beside it. As Michelle looked on, she noticed the pier was made of breadsticks.

“Let’s go, Michelle!” Cracker called to her, holding out his hand. His fiancée quickly accepted it, still a little wobbly on her feet as the Sweet Commander lead her off the ship, shouting commands to his Biscuit Soldiers to watch over things while they were gone.

As Michelle and Cracker exited the ship, they heard the thunderous footsteps of Samore stepping out of the Boiling Sea and up onto the shore.

The young woman glanced up, open-mouthed as Samore stepped over their heads and, as she watched, started to shrink down. The other woman had barely blinked before she was standing in front of her, far closer to her size.

“Michelle!” Samore’s grin was still large as she leaned closer and grasped her hands. “It’s so good to see you again!”

“It’s good to see you too,” Michelle replied, still a little flustered.

“I love your dress!”

“Oh? Thank you…” the young woman’s face went a little pink at the compliment.

Her outfit for the Founding Day party was brand new, another gift from Cracker, and consisted of a purple tea-length dress with a vest made of biscuits and laced in the back with white icing stays as well as large white bow tied around the waist. Over this, she had draped a magenta cape in case it got cold. Her outfit actually somewhat coincided with Cracker’s: he was wearing a shirt for once and more armor which matched the shoulder guard and leg pieces that he normally wore along with his billowing cape and sparking hair.

“Let’s go. Our ride is waiting for us,” Samore continued, grabbing Michelle’s hand and pulling her along with Cracker following after the two women, smirking at his fiancée’s slightly flustered state.

Michelle quickly found walking on the island a bit difficult. The ground beneath their feet was very soft and fluffy, like walking on a marshmallow. She stumbled a little, but Samore gripped her arm tighter to steady her.

“Sorry, the terrain does take some getting used to, but my daughter enjoys making the ground soft and fluffy like this with her Devil Fruit. She says it’s more fun this way.”

“It feels like a cloud or something,” Michelle mused, bouncing experimentally on the fluffy ground.

Samore lead them over to two large porcupine Homies with saddles on their backs and smoking marshmallows stuck to the ends of their quills. “They’re quite harmless,” she said as Michelle looked at them wearily.

One of the porcupine’s snorted, blowing smoke out of its nostrils. Cracker walked over and pet the closest one’s nose before helping Michelle climb into the saddle as it was a bit of a long way up. Samore then clambered on in front of her and grabbed the reigns while Cracker mounted the other marshmallow porcupine.

“Let’s go!” Samore called out, cracking the reigns and the two spiked creatures took off into the city ahead of them.

The capitol of Yakigashi Island was called Fukkura Town, and it soon became apparent that the Founding Day celebrations were already well underway.

Color and light had exploded across the streets of the city in the forms of streamers and balloons, torches and sparklers. Crowds of people and Homies weaved throughout the buildings while thunderous music reverberated between them like a storm.

Michelle didn’t know where to look. There was dancing and singing, performers doing backflips and juggling flaming torches, people selling and eating delicious foods and bands blasting loud and rambunctious music.

“Oven really outdid himself this year,” Cracker mused from on top his porcupine mount, waving halfheartedly to some of the passerby that had recognized one of the Sweet Commanders.

“He can be pretty competitive,” Samore replied with a fond smile, leaning down to accept a flower from a young female Fukkura Town resident, who was smiling sweetly up at her and Michelle.

“Is it a competition between Charlotte siblings for who has the best Founding Day celebration?” Michelle inquired.

“It certainly is between some of the older ones,” Samore agreed with a nod, pausing to smell the flower she’d been gifted.

Soon after, the group arrived at the gates of Oven’s massive estate, which was built out of pure white bread that looked almost like polished marble. There were torches made of giant marshmallows mounted at the entrance, spouting crimson fire into the growing night.

A pair of Biscuit Soldiers were patrolling at the gate, both of which quickly bowed to Cracker and Michelle as the former disembarked from his mount and then turned to help his fiancée off her own porcupine.

“At ease,” Cracker said to the soldiers, who jumped aside as Samore breezed past them, the gate swinging open with a bombastic shout.

“The lady of the house is home!”

“The party is happening in the back yard. We’ve got a pavilion set up,” Samore called back to the other two as she lead them around the side of the massive white house and through a garden gate.

In the backyard, more of the roasted marshmallow torches were set up around a dancefloor made of polished saltine crackers. Multicolored streamers looped through the autumnal trees above their heads, making a canopy around the floor and the white covered tables that create a semi-circle around them.

The rest of the guests were already there, and Michelle spotted Spice immediately. Her hair was as bright as the flames and her smile just as brighter as she leapt over to the other young woman in two levitated bounds.

“Michelle! It’s so good to see you!” Spice exclaimed, grasping the other woman’s hands and squeezing them tightly. “How have you been?!”

“It’s good to see you too,” Michelle replied, beaming. “I love your dress.”

“Oh, this old thing?” Spice giggled as she smoothed down the folds of her orange and yellow dress with red accents that looked like it was made of fall leaves. Her choker and bracelet looked like dripping maple syrup.

Michelle was about to compliment her outfit again when a pair of gloved hands suddenly covered her eyes, making her gasp. “Guess who, Aunt Michelle!

“Peppermint?” the young woman whirled around as the hands were removed from her vision to see Peppermint and Candy Cane, the twin oldest children of Winter and Perospero. They were wearing matching red and white striped suits with top hats. CC in particular really resembled his father in the outfit, especially since he was wearing his blue hair loose from its ponytail.

“How have you been, Auntie?” He asked Michelle.

“Very good, thank you.” She replied with a warm smile.

“Hey, you two! It’s been a while” Cracker exclaimed, clapping each of the twins on the back. “I hope you two have been practicing the sword techniques I taught you.”

“Of course, Uncle Cracker,” Peppermint insisted.

“We can show ya if you want,” her twin added, a mischievous glint in his red eyes.

Spice’s face lit up. “That sounds fun!”

“Not now, it’ll be dinner soon,” Samore replied insistently.

“You’re no fun, Samore,” Spice grumbled.

“Oh, there you are, Cracker. I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up.” Michelle turned at the sound of an unfamiliar voice as Oven strolled over to them. He was wearing long white robes that were trimmed in brilliant embroidered flames.

“I wouldn’t miss one of your parties, Oven,” Cracker replied with a grin. As he spoke, his arm wrapped around Michelle’s waist, pulling her closer to him. “You remember my fiancée, Michell, right?”

Oven smirked down at the young woman, giving his brother a knowing look. “Of course, how could I forget? She’s very memorable.”

Michelle felt her face go rather warm, and she doubted it was from the marshmallow torchlight.

“Don’t tease her, darling,” Samore lightly chastised him, crossing her arms disapprovingly.

“It’s just a bit of fun, dear,” Oven exclaimed with a booming laugh before he scooped his wife up and placed her on his shoulder, despite Samore’s protests.

“Oven! I need to get changed.”

“Come on, you’re fine as you are!”

“Oven, please put me down!”

A loud bang from across the yard interrupted the couples’ friendly argument.

Samore froze for a moment, fingers tangling in her husband’s reddish orange hair to steady herself. “Burn! How many times have I told you not to turn your brother into a bomb!”

The boy she was referring to whirled around immediately, a guilty expression on his wide brown face. He looked to be in his early teens and was dressed like a traditional magician with a black waistcoat and top hat. He had bright white gloves which offset his warm brown skin and red eyes like Samore. From under his tall hat, reddish curls peeked out to frame his face.

“Aw come on, Mom! I can just make another one!” called a slightly younger boy with orange dreadlocks that danced around his lithe form. He was wearing a cheetah print button down and black ballet slippers and was expertly twirling around the boy in the top hat, jumping around with acrobatic expertise.

As Michelle looked on in confusion, the boy with the orange dreadlocks and cheetah print top suddenly split into two identical beings like some kind of single celled organism. As she looked on, mouth falling open, the boy divided again and then again and suddenly there were six identical copies.

Almost as soon as he did so, the older boy with the top hat and red curls pressed his gloved hand to one of the moving bodies and it suddenly light up bright red. With another loud bang it exploded like a lead balloon, sending the other copies scrambling to get out the way.

“Again! Again!” Laughter and clapping could be heard from Perospero and Winter’s other set of twins, nearly identical boys named Truffle and Fudge, whom Michelle remembered from the tea party on Candy Island.

“Burn! What did I just tell you?” Samore loudly chastised the red-haired boy, “Stop using your Devil Fruit before someone gets hurt!”

“But Mom! Bake is fine!” Burn insisted.

“Yeah, he’s only blowing up the fake mes!” the orange haired boy insisted.

Samore sighed in exasperation, pinch the bridge of her nose. “I’m going to get changed. You talk to them,” she added to Oven before jumping from his shoulder and landing on the ground with surprising ease. She then made her way to the house, flanked by some of the dough boy Homies that were wandering around the pavilion serving drinks.

“We brought spiced cider, by the way,” Michelle exclaimed, remembering the drink and producing it from the basket, giving it to Oven.

“Oh thanks for that,” he took the bottle from her. “Now excuse me, I’ve gotta go deal with my kids.”

“I’ll take that!” Spice exclaimed, snatching it from her older brother and flying off.

“Hey boys!” Cracker reached into the basket he and Michelle had brought as well, pulling out the brightly colored rocket-shaped explosives. “I brought fireworks!”

Burn and Bake both clapped and cheered at this as did Truffle and Fudge.

“Wait until after dinner,” Oven called over their reverie, giving Cracker a murderous glare.

Meanwhile, Michelle felt someone tap her on the shoulder and turned to see Perospero standing over her, holding his youngest child Chestnut close to his chest.

The baby babbled and waved his chubby fingers.

“Good evening, Michelle,” the eldest Charlotte sibling said to her, smiling through his long tongue.

“Hello, Perospero. Hello, Chestnut,” Michelle couldn’t help but brighten up immediately at the sight of the baby.

She reached up towards him only to immediately draw her hands back when the baby suddenly took a snap at her fingers.

“Chestnut!” Perospero quickly adjusted him in his arms. “Terribly sorry, he’s teething.” His father quickly explained, waving his hand to produce a piece of candy using his Devil Fruit. “Here you are, my boy. Suck on this instead.”

Chestnut eagerly slurped at the candy piece as Michelle looked on fondly.

She then spied Winter sitting a short distance away at one of the covered tables beside her sister North, both of whom were wearing heavy fur coats. It soon became obvious why as a heavy cloud of snow was hovering over the two women and frantic flurries danced over their heads thanks to Winter’s own powers.

Michelle’s eyes soon met with the older woman’s steady gaze, and she waved halfheartedly, still a little intimidated. Winter smiled at her in response. Her demeanor was cold, but her eyes were warm.

She then slowly rose to her feet and walked over to Michelle and Perospero, holding out her hands to the latter so she could take their son from him.

At that moment, a large arm suddenly wrapped around Michelle’s shoulders, pulling them against a firm body. The young woman glanced up to see the sharp yellow eyes and flowing green hair of Sakura. “Hi, Michelle! How are you?!” the taller woman exclaimed in her thick Wanonese accent.

“S-Sakura!” Michelle struggled slightly against the other woman’s strength. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Sakura was wearing a magnificent pink yukata with her hair all swept into an elegant updo. She had cherry blossoms and other ornate clips twisted into her hair as well as many necklaces and rings on her fingers. She was even wearing a pair of gold earrings shaped like tiny samurai swords.

“Same to you.” Sakura held a pastry out to the smaller woman. “Want a maple bacon donut.”

“Thank you,” Michelle accepted the treat before glancing around. “Where’s Katakuri.”

“Over there,” Sakura pointed to where her husband was lounging at another table, arms and legs crossed and face mostly buried in his white fur scarf. “He doesn’t want to be here,” she added in a hushed voice with a knowing smile.

Perospero clicked his tongue, “He works too hard.”

“Tell me about it,” Sakura rolled her eyes.

Suddenly, Spice swooped down between them. “Drinks girls?!” she handed them each a champagne glass of the spiced cider Michelle and Cracker had brought. “Smoothie’s bartending, so this party is going to be awesome!”

The other young woman could indeed spy Spice’s fellow Sweet Commander behind the bar further back from the pavilion floor. She was wearing a magenta suit that accented her long silvery hair perfectly. She was speaking in hushed voices with Crystal, Winter and North’s middle sister.

Even from this distance, Michelle could see the yearning in their eyes, and her heart felt sad.

“Oh wow!” Spice’s exclamation drew the other young woman’s attention towards Samore, who was making her way back from the house.

She had changed into a beautiful evening gown that was made of melted chocolate that dripped down her entire body like a waterfall, perfectly molded to her form. Her jewelry was tiny marshmallows that glittered like crystals and the decorative clutch she clasped in her gloved hand was made of graham crackers.

“You look beautiful, Samore,” Sakura said to her. “Does it stretch to accommodate your other sizes?”

Samore smirked at her. “Nope!” She seemed almost happy about this, and Michelle felt her brow crinkle in confusion.

“Mama always makes her stay in her Giant form for Tea Parties and such,” Spice whispered to her, “So she can show her off to all of her socialite friends. I think it’s frustrating for her, so it’s probably nice to stay in her normal form.”

Michelle didn’t really know how to respond to that, especially since as Samore walked back over to where she, Spice and Sakura were standing, she noticed the rather prominent scars against her neck indicating there had once been a very heavy collar fastened against her throat.

“So, is this a party or what?!” Sakura suddenly exclaimed, throwing up her hands, “Let’s dance or something! It’s a celebration.”

“Figures you wouldn’t be impressed,” Spice replied, rolling her eyes as she floated after Sakura towards the dance floor, “Your dad throws wild parties every night of the week!”

Michelle almost jumped when someone tapped her on the shoulder, but the tight knot in her chest instantly softened when she turned to meet Cracker’s familiar grin. “How about a dance, my dear?’

His fiancée quickly accepted his hand, “I’d love to.”

As Cracker lead her onto the dancefloor, Oven and Samore followed suit, and Michelle caught a glimpse of the branded mark burned onto the small of the other woman’s back.

The Hoof of the Celestial Dragon: scarred over but still there.

~~~

The rest of the party was a blur of eating, drinking, talking and dancing. There was so much food available, Michelle thought she might burst; although she supposed it should be expected for an event involving the Charlotte family.

She danced with Cracker and drank cider with Spice and Sakura (as well as a bit of sake courtesy of the former). She talked with Winter and her sisters and even took Truffle and Fudge up on their offer to dance with her.

As the night carried on, and the stars moved across the sky to the rhythm of the city’s fervor around them, Cracker eventually got out the fireworks for Oven and Samore’s sons Burn and Bake to enjoy.

They set up the rockets in the field, down the grassy slope from the pavilion. Everyone else pulled their chairs to the edge and lined them up, so they could watch the show.

Michelle was sitting beside an empty seat for Cracker on her right while Charlotte Souffle, Oven and Samore’s third child and only daughter, sat on her left.

“Isn’t this exciting, Auntie Michelle?!” she was saying. “I always love the fireworks.”

Michelle turned to give her a warm smile. She was a small girl with medium skin and red eyes like her mother. Her hair was yellow and very curly, mostly hidden behind a blue bonnet which matched her dress that had a balloon like skirt that seemed to puff out like a great white and blue balloon. Her face was painted white like a clown’s with additional eye makeup and a small blue dot on her nose. Her mouth was wide and full of an innocent grin.

Michelle had to put hers on somewhat. She was personally a little anxious about fireworks.

She nearly jumped when the sudden popping bang could be heard. Facing forward once more, she watched another of the fireworks shoot up into the sky and explode amongst the stars with a loud bang and eruption of color. All of the party guests clapped and exclaimed their appreciation.

Souffle’s eyes were filled with nearly as many stars as the sky above them as she took in the fireworks, raining down around them like shimmering jewels.

Michelle then noticed Chestnut was sitting up in his mother’s lap, his hands reaching up towards the remnants of the fireworks as they fell back down to earth, almost as if he wanted to catch them in his chubby hands.

She felt a familiar warmth in her chest that reminded her of how much she wanted to have children of her own one day. She couldn’t wait for her and Cracker to get married.

Meanwhile, Katakuri was sitting off to the side with Sakura on his lap; his arms were wrapped around her waist, keeping her in place as she leaned back against his chest, a content smile on her face.

The fireworks show seemed to take forever and seemingly no time at all; it held a spell over the crowd, transfixing everyone and practically lifting them out of time and space and temporarily transporting them to a pocket dimension where only this moment existed, only this land of noise and light reminded, independent of everything else.

Michelle sat, surrounded by her family, and she was happy.

Once the last rocket had been set off, Burn and Bake ran back up the hill, out of the darkness of the field towards them, with Cracker trudging not far behind.

Michelle leapt up from her seat and ran to meet him, leaping into his arms as he caught her by the waist.

“Here’s my girl!” he exclaimed, “Something on your mind, sweetheart?” he added.

Michelle blushed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling her cheek. “I’m just having a very good time,” she replied simply.

The party started to wind down after that. Winter, North, Crystal gathered around the bar to talk with Smoothie while she cleaned the used glasses.

Perospero and Oven were having a heated discussion about some Tottoland politics while Samore and Souffle played with baby Chestnut.

Spice was entertaining Truffle and Fudge along with Burn and Bake, who were soon having another round of fireworks with Spice’s soul clones.

Peppermint and Candy Cane soon challenged Cracker to a duel, which carried out into the field. It was a friendly spar, but still intense as all things tended to be with the Charlotte family.

Michelle watched from a distance, starting to feel a little chill coming from the night air.

After parrying Peppermint and her sword Uzumaki and then blocking CC and his sword Kasane, Cracker looked her way. “Michelle! You look like you’re getting tired, sweetheart.”

“Oh! No, I’m fine,” she barely got the words out before the young woman had to stifle a yawn.

“Perhaps you should get going,” Perospero mused from nearby, “We’ll probably leave soon as well. The younger children shouldn’t be up too late.”

“You do have a bit of a journey back as well,” Samore agreed. “I’ll have one of the dough Homies fetch yours and Cracker’s coats.” Their hostess paused, glancing around, but there were no Homies in sight.

Oven chuckled. “I think our kids may have destroyed them all.”

“Those little pyromaniacs!” Samore huffed.

“It’s alright, I can get them myself,” Michelle insisted.

“Are you sure, my dear. I can always-” Samore started to offer, but Michelle shook her head.

“I don’t want to keep you from seeing off your guests.”

“Well, alright. The coatroom is the fourth door on your right when you go in the back entrance.”

“Thanks!” With that, Michelle ran across the garden towards the large white manor.

It didn’t take her long to locate the back entrance, but the hall beyond was dimly light and difficult to navigate. Remembering Samore’s instructions, she fumbled through the shadowed corridor until she found the door to the coatroom.

As she was gathering hers and Cracker’s cloaks up, she heard muffled noises and what sounded like voices coming from another room nearby.

Somewhat disoriented, Michelle stumbled out of the coatroom only to notice that the room across the hall’s door was slightly ajar. She could still hear the hushed sounds coming from inside.

Curiosity burning inside her, the young woman tiptoed across the hall and peered through the gap between the door and the wall.

It took a moment to come into focus, but she could soon make out Katakuri’s large form braced against the wall with one hand, holding Sakura’s leg against his hip with the other. His scarf was loose, but his face wasn’t visible as it was buried in the crook of Sakura’s neck. His wife’s arms were gripping his shoulders tightly, her long nails digging into the fabric of his suit jacket. She threw her head, gasping her husband’s name.

“K-Katakuri! Ah!” she yelped as he seemingly sank his teeth into her neck, her hands scrambling up into his hair, pulling the short strands tightly.

Michelle scrambled back from the door, struggling to force down a surprised squeak. She probably made far too much noise in her frantic dash towards the exit thanks to her bad leg, but she didn’t linger long enough to see if she had been discovered.

She dashed back outside, her face burning in the cool night air only to run straight into Cracker’s broad chest. “There you are, Sugar Cookie. I was wondering where you went.”

Despite the short distance she had run, Michelle was panting, “I-I got the coats.”

Cracker smirked down at his fiancée, reaching out to clasp her face between his large hands. “Is everything alright, my dear. You look a little flushed.”

“I’m alright,” Michelle insisted, forcing back the urge to pout.

“Very well, I suppose we should be going then.” Without another word, Cracker scooped his fiancée up along with the coats and carried her towards the gate despite her feeble protests.

The other party guests were making their way out as well, sharing final farewells with their hosts.

Michelle managed to regain her composure enough to thank Oven and Samore for inviting them and to say goodbye to Spice and the others.

As Cracker carried her back to their ship, she felt her eyes beginning to grow heavy. It was indeed very late; the edges of the horizon were starting to fade indicating they were not long for a sunrise.

The party that had been carrying on in full swing had died down, with only some drunken revelers lingering sporadically in the messy streets.

Cracker’s long strides covered the distance almost as quickly as the porcupines they road into Fukkura Town on, and the rhythm of his movements practically rocked Michelle to sleep.

As they approached the coast, she could barely make out their waiting ship through her sleepy haze. Cracker leaned down and whispered, “We’ll be home soon, my love. Sleep well.”

Michelle smiled to herself, resting her head against her husband’s broad chest as her hand lazily reached up to stroke the side of his face before going limp as she drifted off to sleep.

The End.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece oc #canon/oc #self insert #ch: multi #ch: charlotte spice #ch: charlotte samore #charlotte oven/oc #charlotte katakuri/oc #charlotte perospero/oc

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hamboneandcheese · 4 years

Text

Real quotes from the kids in my class.

“this book is boring - not at all like the mommy bloggers, its like three women, three blogs, so many lies.” CH

“this monster [locaha] has a foot fetish” CH

“I’m going to eat my muffin now. don’t tell.” CH

“cracking a cold one with the grandfathers” NP

“Trudy does kind of sound like a stripper name” CH

Trying to explain the difference between a woman and a lady “A woman has a man in it” JM

“I used to have a crush on Isaac at the start of the year, but then i found his Spotify playlist and realised i had made a mistake.” “Really? what does he listen to?” “Aww you know, Britney Spears?” NW

“get roasted” turns around to friend” is that the right usage of the word nina?” CH

“frick off” ”hey thats not nice” TO

“hot take: is squidward fucking spongebob?” “yeah, but what hole?” “all of them - he’s a squid for a reason.” SY

“i like big boys, itty bitty big boys, missisipi city boys wait are you filming stop” JM

“if you don’t get skin cancer before age twenty are you even Australian” AH

“everybody! everybody! gang gang! fam fam!” CH

“You’re a bone” TO

“Why is my skin so fat i can’t write on it.” NP

“Yo, I’m writing left handed” “Yo, you’re a god” NP

“you’re gonna be a wrinkly prune” CH

“Charlotte, I’m allowed to have a personality” TI

“I’m a caps-lock boy” NP

“can you hold my book i need to eat a pickle” CH

“our class is not going to be prematurely aged” CH

“he got tricked into suicide””wow, get pranked by prank patrol” BOBBY THATS NOT A PRANK”

“Toby you look like a barista. It’s a look.” CH

“No one sucks the back of my neck” NP

talking about penis size “one a scale from one to ten, with ten the biggest and one the smallest, its sixty-nine” NP

“Don’t mess up my hair before business” CH

“Fred was a youtuber back in the olden days.”

“You know, when the turtles die, we will all oop.” TO

*In the middle of an exam* “I hate ooshies, they’re so ugly.” CH

“Syntax error, lets goooo” NP

“I’m not nice I’m spice.” CH

“Sebastian cares way too much about his education to be in this class” ES

“Rohan’s brother is a mummy lover” CH

“My eyes hurt from rolling them too hard.” NW

“Dude, i’m literally an octagon right now.” SD

“I feel like if someone’s too short, you can’t trust them. its like what are they hiding.” CH

“I’m literally a circular prism.” CH

“stop summoning the devil in this classroom. that’s an outside activity.” CH

takes earphones out in the middle of a song “[whispers] tilly they said a bad word.” CH

“i’m sure elon musk will make a car that can go to the sun soon enough.” CH

“you’ve mentioned elon must twice in the last five minutes””i did a powerpoint on him this morning.” CH

“Stop destracting us charlotte” “I’m inspiring you.” CH

“guys, youth is just a social consturct made to sell more face creams.” HW

“when i feel sorry for people, i like them more, because its like im superior.” NW

“you’re very edgy. youre a veggie. haha get it a veggie? i made that up just now!” CH

“Eww.””Did you say my name?” NP

“my ear is infected but my music is dope.” CH

“My nan says she doesn’t permit us to get a tesla. its very upsetting.” CH

“Kanye West needs to take a Kanye Rest.” SY

“no i don’t like sksksksks. it sounds like my tinitis.” CH

“do you have a weed dungeon?””no I’m not Elon musk.” CH

#public school #quotes #inspirationalquotes #elon musk

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halogensleep · 5 years

Text

pour your gasoline on me (let’s torch the whole world down) Ch. 6

“What is your second favourite dessert?”

“Tiramisu.” Charlotte didn’t bother to turn away from the plane window her eyes were fixed on as the small talk became exactly that.

“Mine’s rhubarb crumble,” Becky replied instantly. “And your first?”

“Banana pudding.”

“Disgusting.”

“I wasn’t seeking your approval.”

“Good, because you’re not getting it.” Becky folded her arms as if she were truly, deeply offended. “Banana pudding, absolute mayhem.” Her ginger head shook in disbelief.

“The best night of your life?” Charlotte lifted a brow.

“Not with you.” Becky smirked. “It was the military attaché to the Ambassador of Qatar. He was a ride. The man knew exactly what to do with his hands, well, right before I cut them off—”

“You should probably cover your ears.” Charlotte interrupted, she craned her head forward to peer at the unaccompanied minor sat beside them. “Go on, headphones on.” She nodded down to the wide-eyed little boy.

Becky smirked a naughty wolfish grin as he did as he was told.

“Little ears always listening.” Becky looked back at Charlotte and wiggled her eyebrows in amusement.

“Considering little mouths are the first to talk you should probably work on your spacial awareness.” Charlotte leaned back in her seat and rubbed her forehead. “Twenty minutes until we land. Food first or pit-stop at the hotel before dinner?”

“There’s only one thing I want to eat and you’re sitting on it.”

“Don’t be crass,” Charlotte warned, stern and quiet.

When the plane landed they made efficiently quick work of the airport. After passport control, Becky grabbed the bags, Charlotte bought the coffees, a quick jaunt to the taxi rank later, and they were on their way to the outskirts of Zurich with barely two words said between them the entire car trip.

The snow fell and coated the world in a neatly crisp blanket of white, piling on top of cars and thatched roofs politely without much disturbance. The air was cold and sharp, stinging their cheeks and noses as they walked and pressed against one another for warmth. Switzerland was picturesque this time of year, that’s what the travel agent back in Dublin had advised, however he did forget to mention to pack Arctic-ready coats and wooly hats, and so they wandered along with their inadequately thin jackets wrapped around their chilling bones and their hands entwined with one another.

“I hate this,” Becky admitted with a roll of her eyes.

“Me too.” Charlotte stopped and looked around. “I did mean it when I said I wanted to runaway with you for a little while until it all dies down but… gingerbread and hot cocoa isn’t really my speed.” She shrugged.

Becky nodded in agreement and pouted slightly, thinking hard.

“Shall we go straight for the hotel and just fuck all night instead?” Becky turned and looked at her with a wry smirk, as if it were the best idea she’d had all day. “We can go back to the airport in the morning and try again.”

“Eh.” Charlotte shrugged and bobbed her head side to side as she weighed it up. “I guess there’s worse ways to spend a night.”

…

In Marakesh, Morocco, the outskirts of the city to be exact, a singular yellow apartment building rose proudly from a colourful street with market traders shouting and selling spices to passing custom below. It was a swelteringly hot day — too hot for either of them to care to go outside. Seventies disco music blared from the open balcony doors at the top and angered the people below, which only made Becky turn it up louder and sing around the living room while breakfast burned in the pan.

It wasn’t keeping a low cover. Charlotte didn’t need it to be. She was the deadliest female assassin in the world… and number two on the list was currently wearing number one’s unbuttoned white shirt and blowing kisses a few feet away.

“Ohhhhhhhh yes sir! I can boogie! but I need a certain song…” Becky twirled around on the wooden floor in a spot where a hot streak of sunshine cut through the open balcony doors and warmed her skin. “I can boogie, boogie boogie, all night looooooong!” She span and shimmied her hips.

Charlotte blinked and stared at the insane woman.

“Is that…” She paused for a moment and looked to the half naked troublemaker with last night’s lipstick still smeared around the inside of her thigh dancing wildly. “Is that supposed to turn me on?” She furrowed her brow.

“Is it working?” Becky grinned wickedly and flashed her breasts.

“It’s not your best work,” Charlotte said pithily and reached for a pack of cigarettes on the coffee table. “You dance like someone is holding you at gunpoint… but... the thought of holding you at gunpoint until you dance for me? Well.” She smiled slightly and narrowed her eyes.

When she lit the cigarette and leaned backwards against her seat, inhaling a long deep puff, her long legs tossed up on to the coffee, toes wiggling in the vibrant heat, head nodding away to the neverending chorus of the song on repeat, she turned her head and looked at the troublemaker who had long since stopped dancing.

“Have you ever been in a relationship?” Becky raised an eyebrow.

“Ask me a different question.” Charlotte chewed her jaw. “Ask me if—”

“You know the rules of the game,” Becky reminded of the agreement they shared with one another. “Any question, any time, always an honest answer, on the risk of death otherwise.” Her slender nose wrinkled with a slight scowl.

Charlotte brought the cigarette to her lips and kept it there for a moment, puffing, then rubbing the back of her neck. It was a terrible idea this game but the thing that irritated Charlotte the most was how much she always wanted to answer truthfully. Sometimes just for the sake of having a person to be honest with. Sometimes just for the hope that an answer would be surprising enough to see the faint outline of surprise in Becky’s expression.

Sometimes, just because it was nice believing for a moment that Becky truly cared about the answer.

Charlotte was too smart to know the latter was true. She believed for the most part Becky asked personal questions for one thing and one thing only, leverage. The thought of Becky feeling things deep enough to be frightened by the fact flattered Charlotte. It felt strangely like a compliment.

“Once. I’ve only been in a relationship once.” Charlotte finally answered. “Although I did marry them,” she added, quietly.

“Man or woman?” Becky infuriated her with the way she didn’t so much as bat an eyelash. “I can’t imagine you at an alter, in white, virginal and pure.” The Irishwoman smirked and moved to the sofa to sit down.

“The Elvis at the Little White Chapel special — four-hundred dollars plus courthouse fees which is barely a wedding at all. I was twenty-one. He… was not twenty-one.” Charlotte smirked slightly too and peered at the troublemaker with a wry look. “I was young and figuring out who I was and he was none of those things. It made him interesting, maybe. It was never going to be a white picket fence and three kids in the suburbs but he respected that. I liked that he respected that.”

“So you married him because of what exactly?” It was a glorious feeling watching Becky become perplexed and exasperated.

“I was twenty-one and heading to boot camp because I thought the military would give me some stability! What else was I going to do? Not marry the first man I could tolerate?”

“So how did you kill him?” Becky hurried to the conclusion.

Charlotte paused and smiled for a moment.

“Who said he’s dead?” Charlotte savoured the way it immediately earned a deep, frightening glare as if the thought of an ex-husband existing in the world was something Becky couldn’t tolerate.

“Well.” Becky cleared her throat after a moment passed. “I didn’t put you down as the cordial divorce type?” She tried to seem unphased.

“That’s because I never divorced him.”

“What do you mean you didn’t divorce him?” Becky spat.

“I mean… I never got round to divorcing him?” Charlotte blinked and puffed her cigarette innocently.

“You’re lying, and you know I hate it when you smoke around me.” Becky snapped and snatched the cigarette from Charlotte’s fingertips. She knelt there on the sofa, precarious stare becoming all the more venomous and hateful, cigarette squeezed between her thumb and finger, teeth on the edge of themselves. She was utterly stuck, and Charlotte loved every second of it. “You wouldn’t do that. And even if you did do that—which you fucking didn’t—I would know about it! I know all of your little secrets, Charlotte Flair, don’t forget that...” Becky became all the more sure of herself as the cigarette was flicked over the edge of the balcony.

“I was still enjoying that.” Charlotte rolled her eyes.

“I told you if you ever lied to me I would kill you.” Becky pushed forward and grabbed Charlotte’s jaw, hard. “Are you lying to me?” She pouted softly until the soft Irish curve of her lips pushed over one another.

The fingers around Charlotte’s jaw were so tight that it made the act of smirking all the more difficult, but Charlotte did it anyway, face trapped between that wild woman’s claws, eyes looking her up and down victoriously, she smirked so hard that Becky’s growing anger was taken out against the side of her jawbones.

“I’m telling the truth,” Charlotte whispered with a soft rasp to her voice.

“I could kill him.” Becky released her with a slight push, and Charlotte rubbed her sore jaw while the troublemaker continued to hiss. “It feels awfully rude and boring of you to not mention you’re married!”

“Rude maybe… but boring?” Charlotte shook her head severely. “I’m many things but boring isn’t one of them.”

“No,” Becky cleared her throat and became thin mouthed. “I suppose you’re not boring.”

There was a heavy, ominous, thudding knock to the wooden front door. It made them both shoot a brief decisive look at one another.

“Noise complaint or the Collective catching up to us?” Charlotte asked for a second opinion, calmly.

“Get the suitcase.” Becky grabbed the Glock from the coffee table and put her breasts away. “I hate noise complaints…”

…

“Now this…” Becky whispered through a strangled tight moan and fluttered her eyes closed. “This is more my speed…” She gasped and rolled her hips.

Charlotte stayed between her thighs, kissing and nibbling her way around the outskirts of town until the troublemaker couldn’t take it anymore, until a trembling hand found the back of her blonde hair and guided her around the local attractions.

Time passed. The sunset came, and so did Becky. When the sun finally set over the rainforest outside they remained collapsed in a warm pile of gleaming pink limbs, satisfied but not quite satisfied enough, humming against each other’s warm muscles like moths near a flame. It was strangely romantic. It was strangely… normal.

Charlotte hated that.

“Cambodia next?” Charlotte tiredly mumbled into her hip bone, desperate for something new.

“I like Belize.” Becky yawned and put her arms loosely around the psychopath’s shoulders. “Good weed is cheap and easy to come by and there’s work too with the drug cartels. It’s not much, but it keeps me busy for now. You should try it sometime.” She patted her back.

“The Collective will catch up to us eventually. It won’t always be noise complaints, Becky.” Charlotte shifted uncomfortably.

“That’s your problem, not mine.”

“You think they won’t come looking for you too?” Charlotte laughed slightly at the misplaced optimism. “They asked you to hit me and you turned down the job. An awfully bold move for a supposed psychopath. When they find out you’re not dead…”

“There’s still time to kill you yet,” Becky reassured with a raspy voice and truly meant it. “I will get bored, eventually.”

“I’m already bored,” Charlotte complained with a sigh. “It’s been…what? Two months since I last killed someone?” She winced and struggled to remember the last time she felt warm blood spatter against her cheeks.

“Laszlo told you to call him when you’re ready to work.”

“But then I have to stop doing this and actually go to work.” Charlotte became stuck between which seemed worse, Becky or Laszlo.

“There’s no pleasing you sometimes,” Becky said frustratedly.

“Well…” Charlotte danced her fingers up the middle of Becky’s chest. “I don’t know about that…” She wiggled her brows.

Becky caught the fingers dancing between her breasts and bent them back hard enough to hurt. Charlotte hissed and tried to pull away, but the troublemaker held her hand tight and pulled her closer. They kissed hard and without passion, forcefully, teeth bruising each other’s lips.

“I’m not a fuck toy to distract yourself with.” Becky pulled away and stared into her eyes. “This is nice but it won’t be nice forever, you should have something to fall back on when this starts to unravel.”

Charlotte paused and nodded.

“Understood.”

…

In Cambodia, just beyond the killing fields that those old enough to remember never talked about, they played house in a small shack sat on top of the hill overlooking a fishing village that sold tilapia and khmer, mostly. The locals whispered about them, about the coldness of their stares and the strange passionate noises that could occasionally be heard from the hill in the quiet hours of night.

Tonight officially became the tenth silent night in a row, and the locals were slowly running out of things to gossip about.

In her deepest layers of sleep, Charlotte felt movement on the bed beside her as if somebody was sitting down for a few minutes at a time and then standing back up again. It stirred her slightly, enough for her to briefly open her eyes and swallow her dry mouth.

“Oh,” Charlotte whispered tiredly at the fishing knife glinting in Becky’s hand. “Is that for me?” It was said politely and without accusation.

Becky paused for a moment with a weighty brow.

“It’s been three months and I’m bored, Charlotte. I’m so fucking bored of you that it feels like I can’t breathe.” She exhaled shakily.

“I know, me too.” Charlotte agreed quietly and then paused for a moment. “Do you want to take a walk somewhere and have a knife fight the old fashioned way or shall we head back home and go our separate ways?” She wasn’t sure she cared about either anymore.

Slowly, Becky put her knife away.

“Good.” Charlotte yawned and closed her eyes. “Let’s go back to sleep.”

...

Charlotte surveyed the abandoned amusement park, the rusted ferris wheel in the distance, the rotten wooden roller coaster that snaked around the site with support beams dotted here and there as if it were the skeleton of a long dead beast. The family theme park had been closed for some ten or maybe fifteen years after an accident that bankrupted the owners. But the chalets still stood and only one road came in and out with a view that went for some miles, so it was an ideal place to hide out for the night on their way back north.

“Well.” Becky huffed and wiped the ginger hair out of her brow as the bolt cutters were slung down. “It’s not Belize, is it?”

“Can you not?” Charlotte shot her a stern look. “It’s one night. We head north once the storm passes over then Laszlo pulls a few fingers back with the Collective, after that the only person you have to worry about killing you in the cold long night is me.” She smiled coldly.

“Hmm,” Becky rolled her eyes and kicked the chalet door in. “You say the sweetest things.”

Charlotte followed her inside and threw their bags down on the dusty counter top. The furniture and fixings were moldy and ancient, squalid even, but it would do for their last night together. Charlotte watched Becky sit down at the table and pull out the bottle of whiskey from her backpack along with two metal canteens.

Charlotte closed her eyes and smiled.

“Feeling sentimental?” She opened them again.

“For one night, maybe.” Becky poured the liquor and offered one canteen forward. “It’s been a good three months. You bored me at times, you excited me at others. I’ll drink to that?”

“To the last three months.” Charlotte clinked her metal mug and sat down at the table too. “A last night of question game?”

“Alright. Why didn’t you tell me you were married?” Becky asked instantly.

“I like having my cards close to my chest.” Charlotte shrugged. “If it makes you feel better I haven’t seen him in… hmm… maybe ten years?” She removed her jacket and leaned back against the breakfast seat. “When was the last time you felt an emotion?”

“Well right now I feel—” Becky tried to answer but Charlotte cut her off.

“No, no, stop. I’m not asking you about your mood. I’m asking you when was the last time you felt an emotion? The last time you had a reactive feeling?” Charlotte made her question more pronounced and specific.

Becky’s expression became angry and narrowed but then she just swallowed and thought about it for what felt like forever.

“Istanbul, two months ago. I asked you what happened to your cat and you told me you had him put down so we could travel and I fell in love with you for three and a half minutes exactly. What about you?” Becky blinked coldly.

“I did like that cat.” Charlotte sighed and drank a little more. “Belize, the night before we left for Cambodia. You were asleep and I wanted to put a pillow over your face and watch you fight for a breath until you just… stopped fighting.” They both smiled faintly at that. “I felt sad afterwards. I think it was sadness, maybe. I realised that whatever I’ve been looking for… it wasn’t a rainforest in Belize with you.”

“Your favourite moment of me?” Becky lifted a brow expectantly.

“All the moments you weren’t actually there,” Charlotte whispered and held her stare. “Chasing you, wondering where you were, what you would do next, who would kill the other first. I liked you the most when it was me playing the role of you in the space you left behind.” It earned a smirk. “And you?”

“What’s your husband’s name?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Kill me then. What’s your husband’s name?” Becky abruptly insisted.

“James,” Charlotte whispered. “Now what was your favourite moment of me?”

“Here, right now.” Becky shrugged and sipped her drink. “I’m a sucker for goodbyes.”

“If you kill him you know I’m going to have to snap your daughter’s neck. You know that right?” Charlotte blinked. “It’s not that I care about him but I think I like having parts of my life untouched by you.”

“Scouts honour, baby.” Becky raised three fingers with a wicked smirk.

“Becky…” Charlotte hesitated for a moment and wanted desperately to feel something. “I’m not capable of loving you but I respect you, I want you to know that.”

“I don’t know what I’m capable of anymore,” Becky whispered and finished her drink.

…

After Laszlo cleared everything up with the Collective the hitwomen went their separate ways. Six months passed without contact. It was as if Charlotte Flair had never existed in her tiny compounded world of violence and boredom. Except, she did. She had existed. She existed until she ceased to exist. Until all that Becky had left was the ghost of her.

It wasn’t that Becky missed her because that was the wrong word all together. To miss Charlotte implied that Becky wanted her around. Sometimes she did want Charlotte around, once in a while when she was feeling sentimental at least. But if Becky had to put her finger on it the thing she truly missed then it was the game. The theatrics of it all. The paradigm of having someone to play with. The excitement of being hunted in return. It was enough to leave her playing with the idea of going after Charlotte on her best days. It was enough to leave her sickened and furious wondering if Charlotte had forgotten all about her on her worst.

It took a lot of patience and time to find the man she promised not to kill. Charlotte had done everything she could and then a little more in order to hide him away, but Becky did what she did best and found the little duplex south of nowhere that belonged to a man who had long since fell off the face of the earth.

When she kicked the door of the apartment off its hinges, the first thing that struck her was the sickly sweet smell of rotting meat and putrescine. It was enough to make her lift the balaclava and reflexively gag between her legs. Becky just about held onto her breakfast and spat the saliva that pooled in her mouth on to the floor. The light switch was flipped on and the front door closed behind her. In the kitchen the radio was playing quietly, and the song left Becky hopeful that she would find an old lover waiting for her with a knife in hand.

‘Baby… I wanna keep my reputation. I'm a sensation… you try me once you'll beg for more. Oh, yes sir. I can boogie. But I need a certain song…’

If Charlotte had a gun, well, that would put Becky at an immediate disadvantage. But a knife? That seemed like a fair fight that would leave a few scars to remember each other by until the next time around.

‘Yes Sir, I can boogie! If you stay you can't go wrong… I can boogie, boogie boogie, all night long…’

Becky pushed the door open and instantly covered her mouth and nose from the horrific smell. She became instantly disappointed, the man was dead and had been dead for some time if the puddle of wibbly wobbly chunky bits where his putrefied skin had fallen off was anything to go by.

There was a note with her name on it resting against the radio speaker that caught her eyes.

“Pardon me,” Becky mumbled to the rotten body through her cupped hand and walked around to retrieve it.

Number two,

I really don’t want to kill your daughter but I have a feeling you might try to force my hand.

You’re predictable and I’m ten steps ahead. Come looking for me, I double dare you.

Let’s play,

Number one xoxo

Becky finished reading the note with gritted teeth and tore it up there and then. It was maddening. It was infuriating. It was, above all things, the calling card of a woman who was woefully bored too.

"Your ex-wife wants to play games with me?" She looked at the festering man falling apart in the chair furiously. "It's time to play dirty."

#wwe femslash #charlynch #charlynch fanfiction #charlynch fic #charlynch story #charlotte flair #becky lynch #charlotte x becky #becky x charlotte #lesbian assassins #lesbian story #lesbian love #lesbian fic

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narcisbolgor-blog · 6 years

Text

Royal Wedding: Will Ferrell & Molly Shannon’s Live Coverage Of Prince Harry & Meghan Markle’s Big Day Has The Internet LOLing!

Bringing the funny to this historic day!

As you likely know, May 19 marks the royal wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle. While this is a particularly big deal for those in the United Kingdom, it seems that EVERYONE is getting in on the fun.

Related: Will's Interview With Joaquin Phoenix Was CRAZZZY!

Case in point, Will Ferrell and Molly Shannon reprised their Cord Hosenbeck and Tish Cattigan characters for a royal wedding special on HBO. In case you forgot, the Saturday Night Live alums first debuted these faux TV personalities for a parody streaming of the Rose Bowl Parade — and had serious watchers up in arms!

Hopefully, this time around, those tuning in are aware that this is meant to be a J-O-K-E! For the best highlights and a few reactions to their commentary, ch-ch-check everything out (below)…

Every kiss begins with….. #RoyalWedding #CordAndTish pic.twitter.com/iDJ0UIrtR5 — HBO (@HBO) May 19, 2018

If you’re not watching #CordAndTish you fucked up. #RoyalWedding pic.twitter.com/TooPaj5LcK — Ben Boskovich (@benbosk) May 19, 2018

Horses, they're too close to humans. #RoyalWedding #CordAndTish pic.twitter.com/fWiBUH1q6c — HBO (@HBO) May 19, 2018

Bad news: if you didn't watch the #RoyalWedding with #CordAndTish, you did it wrong.

Good news: there's an encore tonight at 9:45PM on #HBO. pic.twitter.com/97YzyhOVGP — HBO (@HBO) May 19, 2018

Manfred, you DOG. #RoyalWedding #CordAndTish pic.twitter.com/9nZHUKgRaA — HBO (@HBO) May 19, 2018

Ain't no party like a @TishCattigan party. #RoyalWedding #CordAndTish pic.twitter.com/oVo76A3TY8 — HBO (@HBO) May 19, 2018

Spill the royal tea… literally. #RoyalWedding #CordAndTish pic.twitter.com/LdyZcoBP8U — HBO (@HBO) May 19, 2018

The crown jewels: will their mystery ever be solved? #RoyalWedding #CordAndTish pic.twitter.com/dh1Zf1QrOy — HBO (@HBO) May 19, 2018

I will never be a royal. None of us will ever be royals. #RoyalWedding #CordAndTish pic.twitter.com/pmAofRhoIL — HBO (@HBO) May 19, 2018

Ha!!!

So great!!!

What'd y'all think, Perezcious readers?!

Let us know your opinions in the comments (below)!!

[Image via HBO.]