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#its not a head cannon if it's true right >.>

twigg96 · 16 days

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Rick relationship HCs:

Poly-Bisexual

Kinkiest MF in twd

CUCK

#sorry not sorry #its not a head cannon if it's true right >.>#the holy trinity truthfully #The walking dead #twd #rick grimes #the walking dead rick grimes #twd rick

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lingering-42-long · 1 year

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141 + extra Mother’s Day head cannons

A short little Head cannons for all of our favorite boys expressing their love to there girls who are mothers.

COD x Female Character

Warnings: none, fluff, adorable daddies.

Captain John Price

• he wakes you up with a kiss on the forehead and a coffee in hand.

• The little ones are still asleep and he just wants to spend time with the mother of his children.

• when your daughters and son decide that it’s time to get up, they are running around handing you flowers and cards and balloons with the words “Happy Mother’s Day” written on them.

• John is making you breakfast with the girls attempting to help and your son sitting on the counter coloring.

• every year he plans to take you out to a nice restaurant and you to go to watch a play at the local theater

• He gives you lots of kisses and tells you how amazing a mother you are.

• He gives you a spa treatment to use whenever you need and puts a crap ton of money on it as well as also giving you a Starbucks gift card with $100 on it knowing your coffee obsession.

Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

• you’re a mother to be and about eight months pregnant with your first born son.

• because of the trauma Simon had to go through all those years ago he never really understood what Mother’s Day was and so didn’t think much of it when it was coming around.

• after hearing what some of his friends were doing for their wives he thought it would be best to do some thing for you in a similar fashion.

• he doesn’t necessarily want to go out and do anything too extravagant. He doesn’t see the need to.

• but he understands that you are carrying his child his first born, his son so he feels very obligated and very protective of you.

• he buys you your favorite flowers and does a huge amount of online shopping for things for you and for the baby.

• One might think that just because he has no clue about Mother’s Day that he would be a horrible gift giver when that is simply not true. Simon is trained to study all the little details in life and so he knows exactly what your favorite things are right down to the exact color shade and style.

• this man has read so many parent books he knows exactly what his child needs well before the due date and advise you whatever you could possibly need to make your pregnancy as smooth as possible.

• he will take you to your favorite place at the park where you two can have a quiet lunch together.

• it may not be much but it’s the thought that counts. He’s not a emotionally opened person but for you he is trying so hard to make sure that you know how much he loves and appreciates you.

Sergeant Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish

• your son was the first one to wake you both up as he was screaming on the top of his lungs saying happy Mother’s Day.

• Johnny just laughs and gives you a kiss, wishing you also a happy Mother’s Day before getting jumped on by his son desperately trying to wake up his parents so he could have breakfast, and show you his artwork that he had been working on for you.

• he bought you a really pretty and expensive pair of earrings and matching necklace. Don’t ask him how much it was.

• Johnny asks his parents if they could watch his son for the day as he takes you out for a couples massage and goes thrift shopping with you.

• this is a fun hobby that you guys have and enjoy doing.

• sometime during dinner at a simple bistro that you guys like to go to, he whispers into your ear about growing the family.

• let’s just say baby number two is on its way

Sargent Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

• he is very new at being a father only having two months with his newborn daughter.

• like Simon, he doesn’t know what to do for you for Mother’s Day so he calls his mom for help.

• She suggests that he do some thing for you or give something to you to make her feel special.

• he decides that he would watch the baby for the day while you go get your hair done your fingernails done and get a massage as well as give you some money to go buy some clothes and to hang out with your girlfriends.

• he’s not the best cook so he decides to order takeout for you both at one of your favorite pizza restaurants.

• when you get back home he sets the table up real nicely and make sure to get you some really pretty flowers and your favorite chocolate from the store.

• he also orders your favorite wine.

• Once your baby girl has fallen asleep, you both decide to watch a cheesy Romcom.

• it’s really simple but it’s the perfect Mother’s Day gift you could ever ask for.

Commander Alejandro Vargas

• this man is already making you breakfast for the day. His two older children have gone to hang out at one of their friends places while the youngest, a three-year-old, was in her highchair eating breakfast.

• he brings the food to you as you’re just waking up.

• Like Johnny, he bought you a beautiful set of earrings and necklace that the kids helped picked out.

• he’s going to take you out to a really nice restaurant and later dancing so he make sure to get you a nice dress that he knows that you would like.

• he buys every single rose from every single flower shop in Las Almes

• giving you neck kisses from behind as you’re getting ready.

•Asked his single brother to watch the baby while the other kids are having a sleep over at their cousins house.

• he spent the whole night pampering you and telling you how much he loves you and thanking you for his children.

• Spent the rest of the night having spicy time on the couch and bedroom.

Sergeant Major Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

• because your two year-old son has a severe infection and is in the hospital, you both decide not to do some thing extravagant since most of your money is going towards taking care of the little one.

• with that being said, that doesn’t mean that he isn’t going to try for you.

• he is a simple man but he does what he can for you to make you happy.

• for some odd reason all of the roses in Las Almes are all sold out, so he buys a really nice mixed bouquet that he knows that you like.

• he also gives you a simple gift card to your favorite coffee shop with a cute card to go with it.

• you order takeout and have it delivered to the hospital, where you guys are at making sure that your son is ok.

• even though it’s not the Best Mother’s Day, you too are just happy to be together with your son.

König

• he always thinks really hard about what you would like for Mother’s Day.

• he’s not a social butterfly but he’ll make an exception for you. So if you want to go out to a restaurant he will do that for you.

• this man is just happy that he was able to find someone that loves him, and has given him two beautiful twin girls and one sweet boy.

• you too decide to do some thing super easy with the kids and take them to a park in his hometown in Austria.

• he looks like he’s on the verge of tears because of how happy you have made him.

• he gets overwhelmed easily with emotion.

• after going to the park he cooks you all a really good meal and the girls help him.

•After dinner, the both of you Play board games with the girls as your son is asleep in his bassinet.

• makes some hot chocolate for everyone.

• when the girls go to sleep, he pulls out a book that he wants to read with you.

• you two fall asleep in each others arms.

Alex Keller

• this dude is a Golden retriever when it comes to love. He gets so excited when he gets to spend Mother’s Day with you and his newborn son.

• since you just had the baby you’re still in the hospital, and he makes sure to take care of all your needs while you get pampered by him. He buys you a really cute t-shirt with the words ‘mamma bear’ on it.

• he gets you sushi from your favorite Japanese restaurant.

• plays card games with you and lets you win.

• watches TV with you in the hospital room while holding your hand and telling you how proud he is and he hopes to grow the family more in the future.

Philip Graves

• is a southern boy so his mama always taught him how to treat a lady.

• Think 1940s gentleman

• most people think he would have a son but he has a little girl instead.

• is a super proud daddy of his baby girl and even more proud of his wife.

• unfortunately for this Mother’s Day, he’s away with the shadow company in Mexico so he’s unable to spend Mother’s Day with you.

• he does send you a text letting you know how much he misses you and to have a amazing Mother’s Day.

• he sends you $1000 to go spend on whatever you want for your day since he knows that he won’t be able to splurge on you like he usually does.

• he cannot wait to get back home to you and his little girl.

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valsdelulucorner · 12 days

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Floyd Head cannons<3

Floyd loves finding his little shrimp hanging out with their friend group or doing work in class, it makes his day. He normally runs over and pushes whoever is talking to you out of the way as he flings himself at you, squeezing you tightly in his arms before scurrying off like nothing happened, leaving you and your company very confused.

Hes 100% the type of guy to say "this ones for you" and completely miss the basketball hoop, instead hauling the ball at one of his teammates while looking so incredibly proud

To be honest if you came to twisted wonderland as a rock climber or a sprinter, he would have the time of his life chasing you around. He's never seen someone as fast as his little shrimpy, you actually give him a challenge. Can you imagine his shock if you just start to sprint up a tree or the side of the wall on campus. You catch his attention originally by climbing somewhere high to pull grim out of a tree, or even seeing you sprint by to try and reach class before the bell rings. You give him a challenge, it intrigues him

Because your a rock climber, your strong right? Imagine your just walking with your normal group before feeling something heavy lunge at you and hold onto you in the piggy back position. You can easily keep him held up right and he will just be a giggling mess, your friends worried for you as floyd remains completely supported on your back. They eventually call jade and azul and they are also shocked to see you just standing calmly, having a floyd full on bear hugging you with all four of his limbs. Maybe you would be a good security person in the Monstro lounge

If you were scared of him, his reaction would depend on how much he likes you. If he only likes to bother you every now and then, not trying to actually start a conversation or a friendship with you, he would 100% use this to his advantage, having you do things for him and azul

If he cares about you alot more, finding you interesting and wanting to be your friend, he would be so very pouty and probably ask you straight up if you actually like him or just hang out with him because your scared of him. If he is head over heals for you or if he sees that its actually bothering you badly, he will try his best to gain your trust better and have you not scared of him. It isnt fun if his little shrimpy avoids him because of his games

Ok hear me out, if Floyd gets to overwhelmed or just far to overstimulated, he turns back into his eel-mer form, just complaining and not wanting to be bothered. If you are with Floyd or if he trusts you a lot like a best friend, you might be able to comfort him in this state. Octavinelle has some massive tanks around its dorm so you will most likely be able to find him there swimming around in his true form. be careful when approaching the top of the tank, if you aren't careful he might try and pull you in. If you guys are dating or if you both are close, he will full on lunge himself at you and squeeze you, resting against you as his lower half remains in the water. Prepare to have some numb legs because you will not be able to pry him off until he stops ranting, you will leave when he feels like it shrimpy

Study dates normally end up as literally anything else dates. You guys are studying together to make sure you guys pass the upcoming exam? He will grow board and probably either lean against you or start making paper airplanes to throw at you. Its boring shirmpy!

Once he starts to fall for you, he will be confused why his heart beats so fast around you when you smile or laugh at him. Your defiantly not a threat, he can easily overpower you. He isn't scared of you, there is nothing about you that is intimidating to him. so why is his heart beating this quickly? He will go to Azul and Jade and just mope around, telling them that he feels funny whenever your around. Jade chuckles as he explains to floyd why he feels like that, azul just looks annoyed as they are both now slacking from their job

He likes that your quite calm around him unlike the other people he normally goes off to bother, you actually can be around him for long periods of time without making him board or annoyed?! He will never say it or even admit it to himself but he really appreciates you more then he knows, he likes having his little shrimpy around

I like the head cannon that floyd does something similar to teething, he has all of his teeth but he likes chewing on things that stimulate his mouth and teeth. He likes different types of food and stuff that he can just chew on. Calamari, mints, gum, chewy meats, carrots, really cheesy foods, so many different types of noodles, heck! even some types of edible coral. If he doesn't have anything around him to use, he will chew on your cheeks. He wont make you bleed necessarily, he Justs like to have that mouth stimulation

Calls you "shrimpy" "guppy" "Koebi chan" "Little shrimp"

I feel like he is the type of person to sit and lay in the most random poses during the most random times. Your in ramshackle together? His legs are folded together in the air while he lays on his back, arms splayed out as he just talks to you like its normal.

When the octo-trio first saw grass, jade and azul had to hold floyd back from taking a bite out of the grass

He loves to cuddle you when you two are alone, even deciding to cuddle you in public. He loves holding you in his arms while he rests his face against your neck, having your chin rest on top of his head while you play with his hair. In public, he will be more modest and probably just sit next to you and rest his head on you, he likes lettng the other little guppies see that your his

Floyd loves to randomly steal you away, picking you up easily before dragging you to the monstro lounge for some drinks and food

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know this was abit different to my other fics and im sorry if it isnt that good. This was difficult to write because im in abit of a writers rut right now, but im enjoying the way it turned out! He was fun to write about but i do think i could have done better

Who should i do next?

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lotus-pear · 1 month

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Can we stop acting like dazai was the devil. Like yes he did bad things but he was a child. He was 15 alone and in the mafia where althe was told to do was bad things. ALL dazai knew how to do is lie and deceive because it what he's always had to do.it's self preservation. Like??? When will people realize dazai wasn't a monster and was justa child brought up in an Unsafe and abusive environment. Behaviors are learned your aren't born with them. Dazai was a suicidal child just trying to survive all'he knew was manipulation and Iying because that's all he was taught. He abused akutagawa because that's all he was taught. And as he got older it's all he knows how to do. Obviously he's gotten better but he's still morally grey. And that's ok but it's not enough to call him a monster. hes trying so so hard to change, and even if he may not realise it or cling guiltily to his past, the entire prison arc shows how much effort hes put in to become a better person it isnt easy, growing up exposed to death/violence resulting in empathy and apathy issues, all while battling an emptiness inside thats slowly eating up ones will to live. hes genuinely trying to recover from that period of his life, and i cannot express how proud i am solely because of that. hes finally found a healthy environment, a family, and he deserves it along with so much more. he may be deemed as a “monster“ in the past, that cannot be erased, but he hates that part about himself too. being in the good or bad used to make no difference to him, but i strongly believe it does hate that part of him. Dazai slander are fún and everything - BUT people seem to not get his character right. No, he's not an edgy boy. He genuinely wants to change for the best to make Oda proud, 'BUT HE ABUSED AKUTAGAWA’ , yeah, Akutagawa abused Kyoka and nobody is talking about how its litterally GENERATIONAL TRAUMA. Dazal was never raised correctly, he got raised by Mori and used by him to make him his right hand, maybe because of his ability, or he saw potential in him. He never fell parental Love nor being special to Someone except for Oda. "He LEFT Chuuya!!!“ ok and? Chuuya doesn't need him to live: Dazai LITTERALLY SAW PEOPLE GETTING KILLED/KILLING THEM ON THE DAILEY (AND HE WITNISSED ODAS DEATH - THE ONLY PERSON THAT MADE HIM WANT TO CHANGE.) his eyes at the age of 14, and Mori made him live in a shipping container. Obviously he is not gonna feel human after all this.

And about him and chuuya - the thing is they DO CARE ABOUT EACHOTHER. but nobody seems to care about chuuya other than the fact hes hot asf anf the fact that he is ’super mega gay for dazai 🥺🥺🥺’ because are we reading/watching the same series???? There’s SO MUCH to his character too!!!! But all everyone talks about with him is with dazai, chuuyas character is CRAZY WELL WRITTEN and everyone dumbs it down to ‘he’s an angry short boy with a god inside him and he’s mega gay for dazai and he’s also really hot’ like no - stfu he’s not actually super hot headed and it’s CANNON he’s usually pretty calm and collected. On the other side of the coin is that dazai DOES care about him - in Stormbringer ; Dazai literally willing gave Chuuya an option to either use corruption on Verlaine when he used his true form or to retreat and not do it, which gave a sense of Dazai giving Chuuya the choice to do what he wants without forcing him to, and the fact that when Chuuya used corruption, he was being injured badly to the point where Abahabaki was going to destroy Chuuya which FREAKED DAZAI OUT , and the fact that Dazai certainly believes that Chuuya is human shows that Dazai does care about Chuuya in certain ways without showing due to afraid of losing someone he cares about. and In age 15 Dazai, was willing to help Chuuya to find Abahabaki and defeat Rimbaud, along with stormbringer with him helping Chuuya to find out if he's human or not and to defeat Verlaine.

Ty for reading my rant 💞💞💞💞

i can't tell if this is attacking me or just a rant in general but anyway YESSSSS I 100% AGREE YOU ATE W THAT ANALYSIS BRIAR‼️‼️

#everybody who mischaracterizes dazai over the stupidest shit read this Right Now #lotus’s asks

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cheolsfae · 4 months

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𓃭 Ateez as your best friend

Requested: Hell no 💚

Genre: fluff

Warning(s): Slight swearing, mentions of bodily fluid, mentions of gaslighting

Feed back and re-blogs are appreciated! 💚

𓃭 Seonghwa 𓃭

I hate to say it but the mom friend. Dude there is no way out of this for him. Every head cannon says it too:') But it's true!

Also talk about sassy!

He dishes plenty of it out and takes it all back like a goddamn champ!

When you need him though, he's there as quick as humanly possible.

You're ex is stirring up drama in your life? He's there to comfort you and maybe kick that person's ass.

𓃭 Hongjoong 𓃭

That one friend who gets uncomfortable when you give them a hug but it's okay cause its you.

Had a bad day? He's right there putting in his best effort to comfort you with that hug.

Make sure you let him know when you get home from hanging out with him or other friends! Otherwise, expect a search party of about 8 weird men on a man hunt for your ass!

𓃭 Yunho 𓃭

The one you squabble with because its fun

"I'm always right! What do you mean?"

"Once. You've been right once and it was about how long a hamster's lifespan is."

"Still right."

You guys were glued at the hip though.

Everywhere he went, there you were following him like a lost puppy and vice versa.

𓃭 Yeosang 𓃭

The friend you sit in comfortable silence with without it feeling weird

You guys could be at the dorms just chilling in silence doom scrolling on your phones

With the ever so occasional "...Look, it's you."

Late night drives were a thing too.

One of you guys would pick up the other and take off into the distance listening to music and just drive wherever the road took you guys.

𓃭 San 𓃭

The friend who makes you wonder what kind of relationship you really have with one another

Are you partners? Who knows? He's just as confused as you

One time, Jongho walked in on you guys completely tangled up in one another's arms.

Needless to say, from that point on he made sure to knock before going in

Never found without the other! "Are you seriously in the bathroom with him while he showers?" "Yeah! I'm just talking to him, it's not like I'm peeping"

𓃭 Mingi 𓃭

No filter. Says whatever is going on in his mind

"I pissed myself at practice today:'))"

But you give it back too so it's not too weird. "Well, at least you didn't shit yourself like last time. A win is a win."

Sending weird memes to one another is a constant thing. No context is ever provided but you get it and it works for you guys.

𓃭 Wooyoung 𓃭

Also makes you question what y'all are, though not as much

Expect forehead kisses, like a lot.

You're leaving his place? Forehead kiss. Going to sleep? Forehead kiss.

Just a very affectionate friend.

Drunk texts were a very common thing between the two of you and the other would have to go check up on the other ending in a sleep over.

𓃭 Jongho 𓃭

Teases you constantly!

Mimics your tone of voice when he finds your attitude funny

Absolutely does not feed into your delusions about that one person who has little to no interest in you.

"Okay, but they looked at me for 2.5 sec." "Doesn't mean they like you."

#ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #choi jongho #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi san #kang yeosang #jeong yunho #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #ateez

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geekgirl750 · 7 months

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Random details I noticed in Scream after watching it for the umpteenth time.

First:

Stu has a dog?!

In the final confrontation scene in the kitchen before Stu brings out Sidney's dad I noticed that there was a note written on the white board behind him

Here it is in more detail, although the quality isn't the best as I had to screenshot the scene from YouTube:

When I paused to read it in the actual film I was able to make out most of the note except for the small writing in the upper right (Which I think is either a phone number or date) but I'm pretty sure the note reads:

"Hi Stu, Sorry we missed you today. We'll be back Sunday. Be good! Love mom & dad. P.S. feed the dog."

The last line I wasn't sure about because it was blurry but I matched the note from this shot to the shot where Stu is sitting at the desk on the telephone and sure enough the last line is "P.S. Feed the dog"

So basically, Stu canonically has a dog which I think is super funny because it makes me wonder where the dog was during the party and what type of dog it is.

It also makes more sense for the dog door in the garage that Tatum tries to crawl through to be put there for the Macher's family dog rather than the cat.

Side tangent head cannons:

The orange cat we see run out before Tatum is killed in the garage belongs to Stu's sister Leslie and has a basic name like Marmalade or Garfield

Stu is 100% a dog person and hates his sister's cat because its tried to scratch him on a number of occasions and now he's lowkey afraid of it

That's why when he's left home alone he doesn't really watch the cat and lets it do as it pleases. (His sister is adamant that the cat is indoor only but Stu is kinda careless lets the cat roam free outside through the dog door)

The Macher's family dog is either a basic crusty ass white dog that belongs to his mom and has a ridiculously fancy name like Princess or Dutchess

Or the dog is something small and hyperactive like a Jack Russell that Stu used to play fetch with and run around with in the backyard as a kid

Like I said before I feel like the Machers aren't super creative with naming their pets. If the dog is a boy his name is probably Max or something like that.

Okay second thing:

I never noticed this but you can see Randy dancing with/ flirting with a girl at the party when Sid and Tatum first walk in

And then later that girl is being led away by a different guy so I guess Randy struck out twice that night lol

(Also peep Stu and Tatum flirting/ kissing in the lower left)

Thirdly:

In the garage scene after Ghostface first cuts Tatum's arm she stumbles backwards and bangs into a bike

This is more of a head canon than anything but I noticed that the bike is more feminine in coloring (shades of red and purple) so it makes me wonder if it belongs to Stu's mom or maybe his sister.

Lastly,

The layout of Stu's house makes no sense!

So I'm going to make another longer post about this because I spent like an hour last night comparing shots from Scream 1996 to shots from Scream 5 to get an understanding of the Macher house because it's almost labyrinthian in it's layout, especially the upstairs, but I'm pretty sure there's no way that house has 3 bedrooms if Stu's sister is supposed to be canon.

Anyways, here are a couple details I noticed that I thought were interesting:

I think the house has an intercom system! You can seen what looks like speaker/receiver on the wall behind the lamp in Stu's room as Sidney runs by it.

Lastly,

The Macher house has a back stairwell!!!

So I've watched this movie a bunch of times and I always thought that there was a door in the kitchen that led directly to the garage but that's NOT TRUE!

When Tatum goes to get the beer for Stu you can see that the kitchen is connected to the dining room and off the dining room is a door that leads into a laundry room/ mud room.

To Tatum's right you can see what looks like an ironing board and then a set of railings/steps which I'm assuming is a back set of stairs that leads to the upper floor.

You can see again in the reverse shot that the door that gets locked behind Tatum isn't actually the kitchen door but the door to the laundry room in between the garage and the kitchen .

Seeing this changed my whole perception of Tatum's death scene because I was always like how did no one see Ghostface sneaking around the party, whether it was Billy or Stu, and not realize when he goes back inside after killing Tatum rather than leaving through the garage. Now I think it's because whoever was Ghostface never actually cut through the party at all.

HE WENT UP THE BACK STAIRS!

And the layout of the laundry room would have hidden him from view of the kitchen as he would have behind the wall and out of sight.

I want to go more into detail about the logistics about how I think Billy and Stu got around the house as Ghostface as well as the entire layout of the house in a second post because I think the set design is so interesting but for now these are just some cool things I noticed that I wanted to share.

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youraveragerat · 8 days

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I hate being this person

I hate being the person who goes "Omg this character would cry", or "he would cry if you hugged him". People often mischaracterize characters so badly (like with COD characters 💀)with that kind of head cannon, sometimes its true but mostly its not from what I see

BUT THERE'S NO WAY I'M ALONE ON THIS ONE RIGHT GUYS 😭???

LIKE I HATE BEING THIS PERSON BUT HE WENT THROUGH SO MUCH, AND WITH HIS "boys don't cry" MINDSET, HE'D LOSE HIS SHIT IF SOMEONE GAVE HIM AN UNEXPECTED, GENUINE HUG

#IM SO CRINGE BUT I HAVE TO SAY IT #IM NOT THE ONLY ONE RIGHT??#Snotlout #Snotlout Jorgenson #httyd snotlout #rattraps #pluh #im losing my mind #httyd

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hx4x4enthusiast · 18 days

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your papa prime head cannons are spot on! Though I wonder what papa prime would do if and when he realizes that his autobots/kids are like his sparklings (btw I love your writing style!)

Aww, thank you for the kind words. I love this so here a short story about how I think he would discover that he is running sire protocol aka

Optimus realizes he is now a dad.

Optimus fluff

Words: 817

It was a quiet day in the base, the entire week was for the bots relatively peaceful the cons didn’t try to destroy the earth yet again and the kids were out using the holidays to go visit family. Miko was in Tokyo visiting her parents and catching up with friends, Raf and his family went to Mexico for his cousins Quinceañera and to catch up and even Jack and his mom went on a trip to Canada to visit Junes Sister.

The bots used the rare tranquillity, in different ways, Arcee went out more training her parkour skills, Bumblebee visit the Griffin Rock stationed Rescue Team. Meanwhile Bulkhead joined Wheeljack on a “space adventure” and even Ratchet allowed himself to rest more and work on some project of his. Truly a perfect time to relax before the storm comes again and the efforts to end the war start anew.

And yet Optimus could not sit still, since the beginning of the week his frame has been acting up. It started with the itching of his plating as if nanoticks are biting into his mesh, then his fans and vents acted up leaving him sometimes unable to move from the cold or borderline delirious from the heat. When parts of his frame started to move, like his right leg transforming, making him stumble into his work desk he had enough.

“Old friend, could I ask for your expertise?”

“Oh? What a rare occasion to find you willingly come into the medbay. To what do I owe this pleasure of your visit Optimus?”

“My frame has been acting up in various ways and I can not fathom on what may have caused this.”

“Well then let’s get you checked out come on take a seat.”

Optimus did as instruct while Ratchet readied the scans to run a complete diagnostic on his frame. With the last scan complete a frown made its way onto Ratchets face plate.

“Well Optimus physically there is nothing wrong with your frame, everything is in working order, energy levels are good. But what concerns me is your spark activity, normally it is in a very calm even lower compared to the others due to the influence of the matrix, but your current scan shows a hyperactivity, like you’re in a high stress situation.”

“Curios, I have never felt like this before.”

“Hmn, well let me run a protocol diagnostic scan maybe one of your battle protocols activated or is damaged. Lay down, go into power-down and I’ll see what I can find.”

“Very well, Ratchet.”

Laughter is what rose the Prime out of his power down, as his optics finally onlined he was met with the sight of Wheeljack laughing, Arcee getting a packet of rust sticks from both Bumblebee and Bulkhead and Ratchet standing on the side shaking his head in disapproval, before realizing Optimus woke up.

“Well Optimus, I have found the cause of your well, functioning problems, so I ran the protocol diagnostic scan and in good news all of your battle protocols are in perfect working order, matter of fact all of your protocols are working fine.”

“Then what would cause my flare-ups, old friend?”

“Well like I said all of your protocols are running fine and well-“

“Ha, your running sire protocol Prime, oh I never thought I see the day. Oh this is too good.”

“WHEELJACK!”

A very angry shout followed by the sound of a wretch making contact with a piece of metal, the piece of medal being Wheeljacks helm. Letting out a puff of air through his vents, Ratchet turned back around to face Optimus.

“What he said is true though, your sire protocols are running and that on overdrive.”

That day, at that time, something happened which has never happened before and will probably never happen again. Optimus was lost for words.

“But this doesn’t seem plausible I am not with a sparking neither have…I…adopted…one…”

A look of realisation crossed over the Primes features.

“The children.”

“Yes, Optimus your spark has formed a spark bond with each of the children and seeing the effect it has of you they, though most unknowingly, accepted it and with that you as their sire.”

“When are the children coming back?”

“Soon Optimus, Raf is as far as I know already on his way back, they will arrive tomorrow.”

“And Miko told me she takes the plane from Tokyo tomorrow.” Bulkhead added.

“Jack and his mom should arrive either today late in the night or tomorrow morning to noon.” Arcee mentioned offhandedly.

“Well I believe it is in the best od interest to wait until all of them arrive and see how we will proceed from there. I will excuse myself then I will see you tomorrow.”

With that Optimus exited the medbay not seeing the knowing smirk on his medics faceplate.

#transformers #transformers prime #maccadams #tfp #fluff #optimus prime #macaddam #papa prime #bulkhead #tfp ratchet #miko nakadai #raf esquivel #jack darby #tfp arcee #bumblebee #Wheeljack #arcee

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topguncortez · 7 months

Text

the official Whumptober masterlist

warning: This challenge contains heavy material. Please Read with caution. 18+, MINORS DNI.

1 | PICK YOUR POISON - J. Seresin synopsis: You never imagined sharing your deepest darkest secrets in front of two monsters and your best friend. Loosely based on the book “Still Beating” by Jennifer Hartmann. warnings: kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse, physical abuse, mentions of miscarriage, murder, character death, truth serum, drugging, forced proximity.

2 | SLEEP WHEN YOU’RE DEAD - B. Floyd synopsis: Bob has had a hard time adjusting to life after a tragic accident. Every time he closes his eyes, the nightmares come flooding back. warnings: mercy killing, graphic details of injury, physical violence, nightmares, choking, panic attack, character death, insomnia.

3 | LET YOUR SENSES GUIDE YOU - N. Trace Synopsis: Natasha thinks she has everything under control after the bird strike, but you think she's heading towards a break down. warnings: bird strike, panic attack, mentions of character death, anger, grief, mentions of injury

4 | THE SECRETS THAT YOU KEEP - J. Seresin synopsis: things hadn't been great between the two of them for some time, but she never knew there was another woman involved warnings: infidelity, cheating, mentions of a miscarriage, unhleatiy coping mechanisms, grief, heartbreak

5 | HELD AGAINST YOUR WILL - B. Floyd synopsis: Bob always dreamed that one day he'd be superman, and one day that dream came true. . . almost warnings: domestic violence, teen pregnancy, being held a gun point, gun shots, character death.

6 | OUT OF YOUR MIND - B. Bradshaw synopsis: Bradley hadn't ever dreamed of becoming a dad until one day he found out he was going to be one. . . and then he became all the kid had. warnings: child birth, mentions of cannon character death, character death, premature labor, premature newborn, talks about premature death, grief.

7 | NOT DEAD TILL YOU’RE WARM N DEAD - R. Abbott synopsis: Your and Rhett's relationship had been anything but easy between bull riding and lies. But you had hoped that you would be enough for him to come back alive. warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, death, character death, allusion of suicide.

8 | A BRAIN ON FIRE - B. Bradshaw synopsis: ever since Bradley was little he struggled to keep things in order and keep the voices in his head at bay. One day, the voices get too loud and Bradley misses the biggest day of your career. warnings: mental illness, OCD, panic attacks, mentions of self harm, cursing, mentions of sexism, tears.

9 | DEAD ON YOUR FEET - J. Seresin synopsis: you were born with the family flaw that left you missing a part and scared Warnings: heart transplant, mentions of scars, teasing, unwanted sexual contact, mentions of sexual assault.

10 | A GIFT TO REMEMBER - B. Floyd synopsis: you and bob had been trying for a long time to start a family of your own. and right when you start to see the light at the end of the tunnel, it gets snuffed out warnings: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of miscarriages, failed IVF, mentions of female anatomy, cursing, grammar errors.

11 | FLOAT LIKE A FEATHER - J. Seresin synopsis: fear does a strange thing to the human body, and you've become victim to its paralyzing affects. warnings: sexual assault, work place violence, victim blaming, fear, cursing, grief, sexual harassment, mentions of retaliation, mentions of emergency contraceptives, mentions of self harm.

12 | LEFT A SCAR ON MY HEART - B. Bradshaw synopsis: in the wake of a tragic death, everyone deals with their grief differently. You thought you'd be able to handle it, but you weren't strong enough. warnings: suicide, mentions of self harm, details about character death, character death, unhealthy coping mechanism, grief

13 | A FORCE OF NATURE, AN ACT OF GOD - J. Seresin synopsis: you always said it would take an act of God to take Jake Seresin off this earth. . . maybe you should've kept that thought to yourself warnings: character death, grief, pregnancy, unhealthy coping mechanisms.

14 | 9-1-1, WHAT’S YOUR EMERGENCY? - J. Seresin synopsis: the hospital used to be one of your favorite places to be at. . . that was until someone took the joy right out of helping people warnings: mass shooting, vivid description of being shot, death, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mentions of a psychotic break, mentions of being held in a psych ward.

15 | WHO’S THE NEW KID? - J. Seresin synopsis: Jake and Y/N start to look at when their relationship changed and drove them towards the arms of others warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of a miscarriage, mentions of an unwanted pregnancy, divorce, mentions of pregnancy depression

16 | ONE HALF OF A WHOLE PERSON - J. Seresin synopsis: Jake's dream has always been to fly. But what happens when the only way to save his life, is taking away something that would ruin his career. warnings: injuries, infections, plane crash, medical jargon, mentions of death, mentions of suicide, amputations, grief

17 | INTO THE FIRE - B. Bradshaw synopsis: dragon and rooster feel like they are reliving their worst nightmare over again. but this time, things look a little bit brighter warnings: mentions of stillbirth, mentions of miscarriage, fear of hospitals, passing out, ultrasounds, pregnancy, PTSD

18 | TAKING A SICK DAY - J. Seresin synopsis: what you thought was just a stomach bug, turned into you having to make the biggest decision of your life and putting you and Jake's relationship to the test warnings: medical abortion, abortion pills, pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of missed menstrual cycles, grief, mentions of teenage pregnancy, pro-life protestors, cursing, vomiting.

19 | I’LL NEVER PUSH YOU AROUND - B. Floyd synopsis: you've been hiding something from Bob for a while, and when the truth gets exposed, he reacts in a way you weren't expecting warnings: cheating, pregnancy, manipulation, anger issues, breaking glass, fighting, dark!bob

20 | THE BEAUTY FELL FOR THE BEAST - R. Wheeler synopsis: Rip has no idea what John saw in you to keep you at the ranch, but he quickly finds out that it's got nothing to do with how you cowboy warnings: domestic violence, mentions of scars and injuries, cursing, slight sexism

21 | WHAT DOESN’T KILL YOU - B. Bradshaw synopsis: Dragon had always envisioned how the birth of her child would go, and it wasn't anything like how it actually went. warnings: pregnancy, child birth, c-section, medical jargon, inaccurate medical procedures, cursing, mentions of child death, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of still birth, grief

22 | PAIN MAKES YOU STRONGER - N. Trace synopsis: Natasha deals with the aftermath of the situation with Captain Underwood. She thought that the Navy would have her back, but she was met with a rude awakening. warnings: sexual assault, sexual harassment, victim blaming, retaliation, the military failing to protects its own people

23 | DON’T TRY TO BE THE HERO - J. Seresin synopsis: The rat in the Seresin mafia has been exposed and it's the last person Jake thought would ever betray him. Part of the Bad Medicine series. warnings: murder, mentions of torture, broken bones, cheating, mafia, character death, description of injuries, gun violence, abuse, illegal activities

24 | RUNNING UP THAT HILL TO MAKE A DEAL WITH GOD

25 | BAD DREAMS, BAD DREAMS, HERE TO STAY - N. Trace

26 | THE LAZARUS EFFECT

27 | NEVER LET GO - J. Seresin, B. Bradshaw, B. Floyd, M. Garcia Synopsis: an interviewer sits down with some of the famous murderesses of Miramar Corrections Facility. warnings: murder, character death, description of murder, hanging, innocence, cheating, cursing, mentions of mental illness

28 | OUT OF BREATH AND OUT OF TIME

29 | ONE TICKET TO HELL - J. Seresin

30 | YOU’RE MINE, AND ALWAYS WILL BE MINE

31 | A LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

#g's whumptober

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booquip · 5 days

Text

Firstly I wanted to say thanks so much for all the love on my first post! I enjoyed writing it a lot and hope you all had a fun time reading it! I hope you all enjoy this one just the same! ☺️☺️ Not going to lie I really struggled to incorporate two head cannons I had into a one shot fic, so apologies if the writing is super mangled. ): As always feedback and constructive criticism is appreciated!! (I haven’t caught up with JJK in a minute so sorry if my memory is hazy causing me to use incorrect info.)

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!Reader x Geto Suguru

Summary: Satoru seeing you before him and Suguru leave for a mission. (written from multiple POV's) ( I like to think that along with Satoru's lack of spacial awareness he lacks emotional awareness when it comes to himself while Suguru is like okay I feel this way now wtf do I do, which both of them can bond on once Suguru helps Satoru realize he’s not dying and that he is in fact in love with reader.)

word count: 1,149

“Gojo-san!” You say with that airy smile you always have. You go on even more missions than them yet how do you always manage to have a smile on your face? You run up to him still all smiles and giggles. Why is it that you’re always running? And why did you look so beautiful running towards him? Your hair was flowing heedlessly down your shoulders as you came to a stop. Both of you sitting on the grass as he rests his head in your lap. (It became routine ever since he had spotted you one day reading a book lying on the grass mindlessly munching on whatever snack it was that you were eating that day.)

He looks up only to be met with those encapsulating doe eyes of yours. Many would argue that his eyes were the ones full of prowess but how could that be true when one look from your glistening eyes had him falling to his knees. He was having the worst of worst days about…wait what was it about again?

Ha- See what he means?

“Ahh Gojo-san are you listening?” Your voice jolts him out of his spiral. How long had you been speaking for? He scratches the back of his neck letting out a light laugh. Your face mere inches away from his. The words had come out of his mouth before he had time to stop them.

“You have pretty eyes Y/N.”

He feels heat rush to his face as the words pored out of him.

You feel as if the world around you both has been silenced. No not silenced you think, it’s almost like it has decided that just the two of you are allowed to bask in its beauty. You slowly blink at the notion of his words, beginning to come back to your senses. Has he gone mad? The Satoru Gojo, complimenting the likes of you. You wanted to hear it more, hear him more. He probably—no he deffinetly didn’t mean it like that. Gojo-san is known for his outbursts and this was just one of them. You make attempts to ease the fast paced thoughts. If there truly was no meaning behind his words, why did his voice sound so sultry so—

“hahaaha jeez Y/N you take everything so seriously.”

You notice him hide his face in his hands and you think it’s just to mask his laughter so you dismiss his words all together.

“Ah my apologies Gojo-san didn’t you have a mission to attend to with Geto-san?”

Why did you ignore his comment? He knew he dismissed it first. He knew it was unwarranted but still— did you just not take it, take him, seriously— why is he so angry right now? Why does he feel as though his heart has been ripped out of his chest? Why does he feel dejected? Why? Why? Why?

The furrow in his brows is uncommon to you and before you can question it, you feel a hand gently graze the top of your hair. You look up to see the one and only Suguru covering the glaring sun from your field of view as you peered up to look at him. "Ah Geto-san, hello!"

Satoru's voice is whiney while he speaks his distaste for the mission. “Ugghhh do I really have to go? I would much rather stay here.” Suguru sighs in contrast to Satoru it's almost foreign to hear him complain. “Yes, Satoru we unfortunately do also the auxiliary manager is going to get mad if we don’t show up soon.” Oh that's when you’re reminded you almost forgot the main reason you approached Gojo-san in the first place.

“Geto-san before you leave take these!” As you pull out the coffee-caramel flavored hard candies from your pocket and into his hand, he looks at you with the most quizzical expression.

“You don’t like the taste of curses, do you?”

He looks at you wide eyed, you take that as a sign to continue.

“I know these won’t change the taste also that your not much of a fan for sweets hence the coffee flavor, but I hope that it makes you forget even if it’s just for a little while. Please eat them after your missions! I hope you find them useful!” Your explanation (that wasn't really an explanation) still has him stunned. You had only went on one mission with them. Was he that terrible at masking it? No he was sure he did well as Satoru never questioned him for it.

For an airhead you sure are observant.

And that's when it hit him the realization crashing down on him all at once. How could he not have seen it sooner? The way he would smile at the mere thought of getting to see you in class. The way his cheeks would heat up whenever it was just the two of you alone. The way he would always go out of his way to make you smile. Oh your breathtaking smile. It was contagious, motivating others on the most depressing of days. He could internally beat him self up right now for being so dumb.

He was in love with you.

And with the way his best friend looked at you he was sure that he felt the same way too.

He's pulled out of his trance when he hears you about to apologize. “I’m sor-"

“Thank you Y/N.”

He says with a smile so sincere, it's then and only then you finally understand why people would go to the end's of the earth for their loved ones. You would go to the ends of the earth for your friends even if it meant killing yourself in the process. It would have all been worth while-- His smile was so precious— so welcoming you couldn’t help but return it hoping to reciprocate even a sliver of the energy back. Is it selfish to wish for this moment to last forever? You three in this moment without the fear of curses? Was that really such a selfish ask?

Satoru laying in your lap while Suguru is on your side shoulders almost touching. Satoru makes a loud pout. “Hey… where’s my candy.” You can’t help but let out a deep belly laugh, sometimes he is just so predictable. You couldn't decipher his face when he heard you laugh since he had quickly gone back to pouting. “What are you laughin fo-“ He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before you peel a birthday cake flavored toffee and slip it into his mouth. “ Haha I’m sorry Gojo-san, sometimes you really are just so predictable.” Suguru also can’t help but laugh at the spectacle before him. Satoru keeps his head in your lap for the duration of your time together. As all your laughing dies down, you can’t help but feel content in this moment. Continuing to selfishly wish it would last a lifetime…

Jeez im super tired after writing this. It takes way longer than one would expect. This took like 9 hour's to write with no breaks and it could still use some tweaks ( I'm just super lazy haha) Props to all writers out there because this shit is so draining. Again feedback and constructive criticism is alway appreciated love you all!! Oh wait I would love to make readers strength contrast with her personality like she's super clueless in every other sense but smart in battle and before Gojo or Geto she becomes the first special grade but I'm not too sure. Im just tired of seeing the weak Y/N trope lol.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #geto suguru #geto x reader #jjk x reader #reader is oblivious #gojo x reader x geto

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xoxoavenger · 1 year

Note

hi! I wanted to make an ask for charles xavier x reader but if you don't want or you can't write it, feel free to ignore. :)

basically, the reader is a friend of charles and also a mutant but never really used their powers, and the first time they used was to save him (in the cuba incident). idk more what to write, i just want to know his reaction to being saved and seeing the reveal of readers powers.

oh, and your writing is absolutely amazing!! 💕💕

thank you so much!! this is sorta short but definitely sweet also I don't have the streaming services that First Class is on so it's not completely accurate but its close

Come Through

pairing: Young!Charles Xavier x Fem!Reader

word count: 775

warnings: cannon typical violence and injuries also completely changing canon like the true fanfic writer I am

masterlist

"I told you to stay away!"

"And I told you that you don't make my decisions for me!"

"Oh, you're right, I'm so sorry for caring about your safety!"

"You treat me like-like I'm some glass ball!"

"Oh my God." Alex groans, looking up at the sky. "Not this again."

"Do they normally do this?" Moira asks, eyes flitting between the two. They continued their argument as though it was the most normal thing to do at this moment.

"Yes," Hank starts, crawling out of the wreckage. "Though never after our jet has fallen from the sky." Suddenly, the two have stopped fighting, which causes everyone to turn to them. Y/N and Charles are staring across the ocean, eyes wide in fear.

"Oh shit," Charles mutters as he stares at the missiles heading in their direction. Y/N grabs Charles' hand, and he squeezes it back tightly. Was this it? Was this the end? Suddenly, they all stop in their tracks. Everyone stares as Erik put his hand up, venom pulsing in his eyes.

"Erik," Y/N whispers as she sees them all turn in sync. She knows what he's planning, knows that if he does this there's no coming back from it. Mutants will be murdered on sight; there would be a war.

"You don't have to do this, Erik," Charles' hand slips out of Y/N's as she turns to watch him walk toward Erik. Her heart is racing with anxiety and adrenaline.

"Yes. I. Do." As he says it Moira starts firing, every bullet taking more of Erik's focus to deflect, causing a few missiles to fall into the water. Y/N's heart starts to race as time seems to slow for her, head spinning as she realizes something very, very bad is about to happen.

It flashes before her eyes, the image of Charles being shot, him falling to the ground unmoving. She's barely out of it before she's tackling Charles to the ground, feeling the bullet skim her side but miss Charles completely as they hit the sand. She can't even begin to comprehend what she just did.

The missiles fall as she screams, Erik's attention completely diverting to her. She lets out a wince of pain as Charles immediately flipped over, holding Y/N in his lap and moving his hand to find her wound. It doesn't take long, her letting out a scream as he brushes over it.

"What have you done?" He yells at Erik, who stared wide eyed at the blood beginning to stain her blue suit. He feels sick at the sight.

"I'm fine," She muttered, a small smile on her face despite the searing ache running across her left side.

"This is your fault!" Erik yells as he begins to stalk toward Moira, who had dropped the gun and was covering her mouth.

"No! I didn't mean to," Moira is reeling, guilt clawing at her even though she hadn't been aiming at Y/N.

"Don't even think about it," Hank stops him, raising his eyebrows in threat.

"How did you know?" Charles asks, and before Y/N can even think about lying his eyes are widening. "Your powers." He mutters, smile on his face only because Y/N was beginning to get up, meaning she wasn't as hurt as he feared. The two were completely oblivious of the others around them.

"I don't know how to control it." She groans as he helps her up, the pair not quite sure how they're going to get off this island. It seems Erik and his friends - including Raven, Charles notes with a lurch of his heart - have teleported off the island.

"I can help." He tells her, letting her thread her fingers with his. Her arm was around his neck, his around her waist. "I could have helped."

"It came through when I needed it to." She looks up at him, and he pauses as his eyes flicked to her lips. He was about to lean in as he watched her close her eyes, head tilted up, but then she was flinching away. Charles felt the hurt of rejection run through his body before she let out a hiss of pain and he looked down.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." Hank was kneeling at her side, putting a piece of fabric over her wound. "To stop the bleeding." He looked up at the two, took in Charles' face, and he opened his mouth in shock.

"Thank you, Hank." Y/N muttered, feeling her face heat up.

"I'm so sorry." He got up and moved away quickly, and Charles chuckled slightly, only feeling a bit awkward.

"Where were we?" Y/N said, her forwardness surprising Charles. He stared at her, only hesitating one second before putting his lips on hers.

#young charles xavier x reader #charles xavier x reader #young charles xavier #x men #professor x #professor x x reader #x men x reader #x-men x reader #x-men

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agent-cupcake · 3 months

Text

Flashbang

Chapter 6 - Howl

Spotify Playlist / All Chapters / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 /Chapter 7/ Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 pt.1 / Chapter 9 pt.2 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12

Pairing: One Piece Live Action Buggy x f! Reader

Synopsis: A night of several firsts.

Warnings: Explicit smut, violence/death, dub/noncon, consensual drug use

Word Count: 13.5k

Notes: What do you get when you cross a mentally ill reader with a society that abandons her and treats her like trash? I'll tell ya what you get! You get whatcha fuckin deserve [weird culty clown porn]

“Now I wait as love and fate Echo from your lungs Do you, do you, do you want me, babe?”

xxx

A blood red sun set upon the sea, shining a single golden spotlight across the water as pirates rallied for the Final Call. Not even the wind could cut through the kinetic mist of untapped aggression. The pirate ship was a powder keg of violent energy and artistic ego, pressure building and building for this very moment. The crew was ready and the tides were right and the prey was chosen. All they needed was for the curtain to raise.

When the bell finally rang, it would be a lit match into an oil drum.

Not that you stayed around to appreciate any of it. You were safely stowed below long before the first cannon was fired. Like everything else on the ship, the brig had once been a neat, utilitarian holding cell. Time had worn the wood and metal, lending it a creepy, haunted atmosphere, the cramped space a graveyard of abandoned props. The scent of rust and aging wood and thick salty stale rot was borderline suffocating, the air holding you in a shivering cold vice.

All you could do was pull your jacket closer, trying to get as comfortable as possible on top of one of the many prop chests. It was claustrophobically slotted between a barrel filled with batons and a drum that had a violent gash through the top, but it was one of the only places in the room where you couldn’t see your distorted reflection in the cracked funhouse mirror.

Even though everyone assured you it would be an easy victory, even though you had seen Captain Buggy’s Devil Fruit ability, and even though you had witnessed the chaos of the assault on Barley Village, you worried for the crew. You didn’t know how to pray, or even what higher power might protect pirates, but you closed your eyes and hoped very fervently that your new friends and your captain would be fine.

Anything else was unthinkable.

After that, there wasn’t anything to do other than hunker down and endure the night. You thought that since you had seen the violence in Barley Village, that you wouldn’t be as affected by it now, especially since you couldn’t see anything. You thought that you were ready for the shockwave impact of cannons. You thought that it would be okay because you were stronger now.

Maybe, on some level, that was true, but when you heard and felt that first boom your body responded with the unrestrained panic of a wild animal. If you hadn’t peed before you hid away, you would have pissed yourself in pure terror. All at once, your breathing became fast and shallow, your heart pounding in your chest, a cold sweat coating your body. Then there was another boom. And another BOOM and muscles you weren’t aware of until that moment began to tense and quiver, your lungs seizing as if in the throes of hysterical weeping, dragging in air only to regurgitate with a spasming violence.

It was fine. It was nothing like that day. It was fine. Why would you even think of it now? It was fine. It was entirely different. It was fine.

It was fine and yet your body curled up into a ball with your arms around your head and chin tucked against your knees, your eye wide yet dry, your mouth gaping, opening and closing in a desperate attempt to suck in some air. Your brain was on fire and the only thing you could think was that you were going to die. It was as if your body didn’t belong to you, like it had a will of its own, feelings of its own, because you couldn’t understand the reaction, it didn’t make sense.

As the assault above worked its way down, your lantern frantically swung back and forth in a smear of flame. The metal creaked unhappily, the ship complaining all around you like an unhappy beast. Part of the strategy, you knew, was to limit cannon fire. They didn’t want to destroy the ship they hoped to commandeer. But even after it seemed like all shots had been fired, your body refused to relax. Down here, you had no idea what was happening above. No idea if Captain Buggy was okay, or Crina, or Cabaji, or Pippa, or Marty. You wouldn’t know for a while. Possibly hours.

If it weren’t for your state of hyperarousal, you might not have noticed the sound from above. A noise, and a scuffling, and then something that might have been footsteps. Was that the hatch opening?

You held very still, listening intently. Those were footsteps. You weren’t alone. Why? It wouldn’t make sense for anybody to come down here. Not unless something happened. There were plenty of worst case scenarios that could bring somebody down here.

Covering your face with your arm to stem the ragged gasp of your body trying to get air, you checked to make sure you had the knife Marty had given to you safely in your pocket. You didn’t know what you would do with it, but having a weapon was better than nothing.

A man jumped down from the steep ladder with a grunt, landing hard. He stood in the shadows, making it hard to parse details, but you had a feeling. A very bad feeling.

Then, in a moment of true and genuine surrealism, he called your name. Your real name, the one you hadn’t heard since you boarded the ship. He picked his way over to the brig’s holding cell, but the door was too rusty to close, and the inside was filled with more props. You could see him in the funhouse mirror, his image distorted into a creepy facsimile of a human being, his face stretched out and limbs grotesquely skinny.

You didn’t move, half hoping you would be obscured by the amount of clutter that surrounded you.

He stepped back, looking around until his eyes met yours. And still, you didn’t move, you could hardly believe it was real.

“Easy now, I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, stepping into the light with his hands up. “I’m looking for a girl. A hostage. Real short, one eye.”

You didn’t say anything, didn’t move, just looked up at him. Your mind screamed run, but your limbs locked up.

The man squinted, leaning forward to get a better look. “Holy shit, it’s you, isn’t it?”

A little spasm made your body jerk awkwardly, a burst of energy from the part of your mind that wanted to escape.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, holding up his hands to show that they were empty. “I’m here to save you from these freaks.” Your silence made him frown, some of the warmth fading from his voice. “We have to move fast, while they’re all distracted.” He came even closer, reaching out to grab you.

“No!” you cried, recoiling. “I’m not… I’m not going with you. I don’t need to be rescued.”

His eyes narrowed, you could practically hear the gears turning in his head. “You’re not their hostage, are you.”

“No,” you said, once again checking your pocket for the knife, squeezing it so tight that the metal indented your skin. “I won’t go.”

“Look,” he said, his voice hardening. “Your dad’s offering a lot of money for your safe return, so you’re going to come with me. Is that going to be a problem?”

“You can’t make me go with you, I won’t,” you said, shrinking back. You were essentially cornered, but you were also closer to the ladder than he was. If you could scramble up and close the hatch, you could find a place to hide.

“I want you to know that if it were up to me, I’d let it be,” he told you. “But you’ll have to figure that out with your dad.”

With a burst of energy you didn’t know you had, you sprung up and practically fell off of the chest, scrambling towards the ladder.

He swore, grabbing you by the arm to jerk you backwards before striking your face. With your momentum broken and then flipped, you couldn’t adjust, going down hard and hitting the floor without feeling much of anything, just the mindless, deafening fire burning up your entire face. You were blind, your right eye streaming, seeing nothing except dark. The man hauled you off of the floor, grabbing your arms to painfully twist them. Your left shoulder socket screamed with red hot pain. That soundly snuffed out any will you had to fight.

“I’m going to… To wrap you up. Try not to hyperventilate,” he advised, his words muffled beneath the sharp ringing in your ears. You realized that you weren’t blind, you had crashed into the light and shattered it when you fell. The man did as promised, covering you with a sheath of coarse fabric. It smelled dusty and a little rotten, it was probably one of the prop curtains. You didn’t have time to struggle before he threw you onto his shoulder, knocking the wind out of you all over again.

Blood rushed down into your pounding head, mixing with the potent disorientation of being struck. It pulsed against the burning flesh of your cheek, you could practically feel the swelling. You knew you needed to escape, but if he dropped you while climbing to the upper deck, you could seriously injure yourself. And what good would it do? There was no way you could escape, you would only invite more pain. Maybe some people got used to it. They could take beatings and bear the pain with their teeth grit, but that wasn’t you. Already your head hurt so bad you worried you were going to vomit, your face burned, your left shoulder screamed, and your breathing was dangerously unsteady, muffled and hot in the cocoon of dusty fabric. The pain you felt now was nothing compared to what it could be, you knew that profoundly, and you couldn’t handle that.

Think.

You had to think.

When you gingerly raised your right arm to check, you found that your knife had stayed in your pocket through the ordeal. You couldn’t be stupid about using it. The blade wasn’t long enough to do much damage, the most you could hope for was that it’d give you a chance.

Even muffled by the curtain and pierced by the sharp ringing in your ears, the sound of the battle was deafening when he reached the upper deck. Your final night in Barley Village had given you a hint of violence’s atonal song, but when the man carried you out of the hatch, it hit with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Screaming, shouting, clanging, popping shots, howling like animals.

Your kidnapper’s grip on you tightened, although you were less inclined than ever to struggle, your body seizing up in response to the cacophony, withering in fear. You wanted it to stop, you wanted to get out of the noise, to escape to where it was quiet. Not outside quiet, but the inside kind. You could feel it creeping up with its anesthetic-like haze, your mind’s best attempt to protect you from the fear and the pain and the horror.

No, you couldn’t withdraw. You had to be brave. You would not let him take you back to your dad. You could not let him take you away from Captain Buggy.

Figuring out where you were was too difficult when there was so much noise and activity. He would be taking you to the Jolly Boats, wouldn’t he? That was the only way to escape. You needed to act while you were around people, where you could escape into the chaos. Better to take your chances amidst a brawl than let him get you onto that boat.

Slowly, you reached into your pocket and found the knife. Moving as little as possible, you worked your arm back down to hang forward. Fumbling blindly, you felt for the notch to flip the blade out, nearly dropping the weapon in the process. But you got it, readjusting the handle to hold it in your fist. Wrapped up like you were, there wasn’t much space for you to get good leverage or hit especially hard, but it was all you had. Biting into the loose fabric of your jacket to keep yourself from vomiting, you slammed your fist into your kidnapper’s back blade first. You imagined Buggy behind you, pulling your hand out to thrust it back in, helping you just like he had on that day. Once, twice, three times and then the man practically threw you off of him with some expletive that you were pretty sure ended in bitch.

For a second you were falling blindly, wrapped in a suffocating shroud. Then the deck caught the bend of your spine, your momentum rolling you away into a painful sprawl. You fought wildly to free yourself of the fabric, your panicked limbs thrashing desperately.

“You fucking—you stabbed me?” The man shouted incredulously. You shucked off the dusty cocoon finally, sour bile dribbling out of your mouth as your body finally relented to the stress. You choked and coughed it out, unable to do anything else with the massive jolt of sensory overload. You thought the fighting was loud and frightening from within your curtain cocoon, but it was nothing compared to finding yourself on the deck in the midst of a true hostile takeover.

The man was right above you when he stopped in his tracks, something emerging from his chest. He looked down at it in surprise, but the blade pulled out just as quickly. He pressed his hand against the stab wound as blood began to gush out, looking more like ink than anything else.

Before he could do anything, he was stabbed again, the sword sticking through his chest and out the back of his hand. When it pulled up and out, his body followed it. He hit the deck with a heavy thump, his body spasming as it tried to expel the blood in his lungs. Behind him stood your vengeful guardian angel. Cabaji lowered his sword, his expression unchanged as he stalked past your would-be kidnapper.

“Are you alright?” he asked when he was close enough for you to hear him. You stared up at him blankly, unable to comprehend the question.

The man on deck in front of you wasn’t dead. Even as he choked on his own blood, he went for his weapon. Scowling, Cabaji pushed him down with his foot and finished him off, carving a bright red smile across his neck. The man dropped, his eyes open and empty.

Cabaji sheathed his sword and offered you a hand. You took it and stood weightlessly, your head as light as a balloon. The world spun, blinking out of reality before it slammed back into you all over again, you were made of lead. Were you crying? Or just sobbing? You realized right then that your hands were shaking violently. The entire world shook and trembled.

“You can’t stay up here,” Cabaji told you.

You nodded, agreeing because you knew you should.

“Stay close to me,” Cabaji told you. You nodded again, clinging to his back. Cabaji didn’t stop you from holding onto his scarf, practically burying your face in it, ignoring everything else as he guided you across the deck. Every muscle in your body strained with tension, the scent of blood and smoke and gunpowder choking you, the howling of men and explosions and steel only barely piercing past the ringing in your ears.

From what it looked like when you dared to look, the fight was very one-sided. The Buggy Pirates had overwhelmed the other ship with their noise and number. You passed beneath a screaming, thrashing woman who hung from the rigging, it looked like she had climbed up in an attempt to escape and gotten tangled up. Somebody had thrown one of the powder bombs at her, painting her in red. Richie the lion had joined the fray, looking every bit the beast you feared. Bodies littered the deck, their inky blood reflecting the colors flashing in the sky. And the pirates, people you knew, rejoiced in it, cackling and dancing and killing with a reckless joyousness you couldn’t fathom.

A surprise party. As in, the other ship must have been surprised by the vicious crowd of circus performers throwing a party on their ship.

It was grotesque. Unnatural. You didn’t belong here, it didn’t make any sense that you were. It didn’t make sense.

When Cabaji stopped at the quarterdeck hatch leading down the officer’s quarters, you nearly fell against him. He opened it up, stepping aside to usher you through. It was on unsteady feet that you stepped down onto the ladder, and with clumsier hands that fumbled. You hit the floor hard on your tailbone. There was no pain. Cabaji jumped down next to you, once again holding out a hand to hoist you back onto your feet.

“Go into the captain’s cabin and lock the door.”

With the battle muffled, your deafening heartbeat took its place. You nodded, swallowing hard to pop your ears. “Yes,” you said. “Yes, sir.”

Before he could ascend the ladder again, you grabbed his hand, looking him in the eye with a sudden, vivid flash of hyper reality, every detail of the ship and the man in front of you viscerally present.

“Thank you, Cabaji.”

Although his severe expression remained, you thought you felt him squeeze your hand in passing reassurance before swinging around to rejoin the chaos above.

The trip back to the captain’s cabin was just that—a trip. After locking the door, you stumbled your way past the antechamber where you would normally wait and into Captain Buggy’s bedroom. For a long moment, you stood there looking at Buggy’s bed which you had neatly made earlier that day. His desk, littered with a familiar mess.

This was real. All of it.

Doubling over with a hard punch of nausea, you rushed to the bathroom, barely getting the lid up before you threw up everything in your stomach. Supper had been a while ago, there wasn’t much to expel other than acid, but your body violently convulsed in rounds as if to get rid of something more, something worse. Trying to rid itself of the sickness that nestled right into your bloody, corrupted insides, desperate to cleanse itself of the sticky rot that thickened your blood and made your head ache.

But that relief never came.

When you were so emptied out inside that your body couldn’t justify even dry heaving, you stood up and flushed the toilet. Moving slowly, lethargically, you grabbed the nearest liquid—a bottle of disinfecting alcohol Buggy used to wash his pierced ear—to rinse your mouth. It tasted foul and felt worse, but it removed the taste of vomit from your tongue.

With slow, stumbling steps, you went into the bedroom and poured yourself a cup of water, drinking until you couldn’t take any more and then-

And then what?

You stared at the worn down edge of his desk and even though you weren’t moving, couldn’t even feel yourself shaking anymore, the world was collapsing around you. It felt like that one time you fell out of one of the buildings northside, that hook like drag from behind your bellybutton as gravity got a hold of you, the terror that came moments before the agony of crashing onto the ground.

Not knowing what else to do, you huddled in the corner. Not on the bed, but behind it. Hiding.

You wanted to shut it all off, to retreat into the inside quiet like usual, to go where the world couldn’t touch you. There was too much pain and horror. Too many thoughts you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking. You did not belong here. You wanted to go home.

That pathetic thought broke through the fragile composure you’d maintained and you curled up into yourself, crying openly. You didn’t want to be here anymore, it was scary and violent and loud. You wanted to go home.

Pressing a clammy, trembling hand to your cheek, you could almost feel your dad’s touch imprinted on the skin, burned there as surely as a brand.

You closed your eye and it was as if you were in the familiar old sitting room with the overstuffed upholstery and fire that burned so brightly yet never seemed to put off any heat. That night, the last night before he left, dad called you to sit at his feet, appraising you with tired, bleary eyes. At the height of his fury, he looked more vicious god than man, towering above you with lightless pupils and a blank expression. Now he looked old and worn out. His days at sea had carved a million little creases into his face, the leathery flesh sagging off the bone from one too many emptied liquor bottles.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said as he stroked your cheek. “I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

“I know, daddy.”

“My sweet little girl.” His words slurred together like they always did when he was in an affectionate mood. “You are, aren’t you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“You’ll be good now, won’t you? You won’t misbehave while I’m gone?”

What you wanted to remember was agreement. A bland ‘yes’ that you didn’t mean because of course you were going to run away. But that’s not what happened. That’s not what you said that night.

“Please don’t go,” you begged. That part of the memory was the most important because you understood it now. If he had stayed, you wouldn’t have left. You would have died in that house if he was there to keep you with him. Because you didn’t want to leave, not really. But you knew you couldn’t stay, either. You had to at least try to get out. But dad stroked your cheek and told you he would be back in a blink, that you wouldn’t have time to miss him.

You saw him off the next morning, your shoulders heavy with the knowledge of what you were about to do. What you had to do.

Destiny, fate, a bad joke—you didn’t know what to call it. Inevitability, maybe. Now you were here.

Your own hand dropped from your cheek, falling limp to the floor beside you as that memory fell away, replaced with another.

“If he doesn’t kill you, your dad will. Do you really think you’ll ever be able to hide from him?” Randall said that right before you cut him—cut him a huge red smile—and he was right. That’s what this was.

What happened tonight had been a deliberate attempt to kidnap you, to get away while everybody was distracted by the raid. Maybe your dad would be able to guess which merchant ships the Buggy Pirates would raid based on the stolen maps. Maybe he sent messages out to a few mercenary types, people who would be on board to protect the goods anyway, people who wouldn’t mind abandoning their crew for a bigger payout. Maybe this was just the most rotten confluence of bad luck and coincidence.

The execution was overshadowed by the far more intimidating message of it all. He would never let you go, not you, not his sweet little girl.

There was no quiet, not inside or out. The thrashing, raving thing within you screamed, and you did too. A ragged and terrible scream that ripped up the inside of your throat. It was pathetic and ugly. More than anything, it hurt.

Even if you went back to him, he would know what you had done. He would know that you weren’t his little girl anymore, that you were tarnished. One life burned for another you could never have. No matter what you thought or told yourself, you weren’t a pirate. You were a fake. A coward.

And there was nothing you could do. Not now, not anymore. Nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

For the first time since boarding the ship, you thought about what led you to this point. Really thought about it. The sneaking, the hiding, being strung up and threatened, the cage. Standing behind Randall with a stranger at your back, a knife in your hand, a blade to the neck of a man you had loved nearly all of your life, a man who never loved you. Screaming. Blood dripping down your wrist.

Murderer.

There were moments in your life that you thought were too much. You stopped crying, stopped shaking, stopped breathing, and knew, knew with absolute certainty, that you could not handle any more. Then time continued to march on, pulling you right along with it, and there was nothing other than your suffering, it was without end, and you wanted to die—more, you wanted to never have existed in the first place.

Those moments didn’t come when dad beat you, or when he screamed at you, or after losing mom, or because of what happened to your eye, or seeing Randall marry another girl. Pain and fear and sadness were immediate. Pain and fear and sadness, no matter how intolerable, made sense. At least you weren’t alone, at least you had a tether—even one that was barbed and electrified.

True misery, the kind that made you want to claw your way out of your skin and rip out your still-beating heart, was a solitary experience. It came when the cellar door closed and you heard the lock turn. When your desperate pleas and apologies and cries were met with silence because nobody was close enough to hear them. Those dark hours you spent curled up on the stone floor shivering, listening to your wheezing breath shudder in and out of your lungs. When the quiet didn’t come and you realized the enormity of imprisonment. It wasn’t that you were trapped in the dark, dank cellar with rats, or in a house with your angry dad, or in a town where everybody thought you were a freak. Hell was realizing that you were trapped within yourself, with the monstrous creature who lived in your head, the one that hated you so bitterly. Was that you? You without any mask at all, exposed and plain and wretched and a murderer.

It was too much. You could not handle it.

But there was nothing else. No one else. And you only had yourself to blame.

There was something Randall used to tell you. He’d laugh good-naturedly and say you’ve really stepped in it now. You could hear him now, as clearly as if he were right next to you.

You’ve really stepped in it now.

You heard the door unlock and open from the other room. The sound jolted you stiff, a gasp leaving your sore throat.

“Honey, I’m hoooome,” Buggy called, shutting the door. Hearing that it was him made your shoulders relax a little. Did that mean the fighting was over? “Babydoll, are you here? Cabaji told me you were naughty and he had to put you in time out.”

“I’m back here,” you called on autopilot, your voice cracking.

You had no idea what happened now, or what you were meant to do. There was nothing you could do to hide the fact that you had been crying, no matter how much you wiped your face. Bracing yourself for anything, you got to your feet. Standing up so fast made you dizzy, and suddenly you felt quite aware of how ridiculous it all was. Pathetic. A pirate wouldn’t cower in the corner of a room crying like a child. A grown woman wouldn’t do that.

You reached up to pull down your bandana, only to poke your left eye. It must have come undone sometime during the attempted kidnapping. You lost your knife too. That hurt worse than losing your bandana, nearly prompting you to start crying all over again.

“Where oh where has my baby gone,” Buggy began to sing as he walked through the other room. “Oh, where, oh, where can she be? She whines so sweet, like a bitch in heat—” He reached the open doorway, smiling as soon as he saw you. “Oh, there you are. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No, sir,” you said, your head bowed to hide your splotchy red face.

“What were you doing?”

You sniffled. “Nothing, sir.”

“Aw, did the big scawy fight make you cwy?” Buggy asked. You shook your head fast, unwilling to trust that your voice wouldn’t break if you spoke. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s okay to be scared your first time. Even I was a little freaked out during my first big raid.”

You dared to look up, your eyebrows furrowed. “Really?”

“No,” he said, laughing as if the thought itself were too ridiculous to entertain. “Can you imagine me being scared?”

He took his gloves off, tossing them aside. Buggy had lost his hat and coat and his clothes were splattered with blood and colorful powder and who knows what else, but he wasn’t wounded. He was fine, and he was in good spirits. That was good.

“You know,” Buggy finally said to break the silence, “if you want me to keep you around, you’re gonna have to suck it up and put on your big girl pants. Nobody likes a crybaby.”

“I know,” you said softly, self loathing making your chest swell, sitting heavily on your heart and lungs like a tumor. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“God, you’re so… so pitiful,” Buggy said. “Yeah, no. That’s not gonna do it for me tonight. We’re drinking.”

You side-eyed his collection of bottles. The sweet liquor he had shared that first night was an outlier, most of what Buggy drank was much harder and more abrasive. Even the smell made your stomach turn, you had no idea how he could handle it. “I’m okay,” you said, wiping your eye again.

“Oh, right. Poor little baby can’t handle her liquor. Don’t worry, Captain Buggy has just what you need. I scored this a month ago at a club owned by this Saydon guy.” He walked over to the armoire, shuffling around the clutter before finding a bottle. “He’s a thieving sack of shit without an original bone in his body, but I had a good time fleecing his stupid customers. This,” he held up the bottle as he turned and approached you, “is the good shit, straight from some rich guy’s personal stash. I was going to sell it, but I’m willing to sacrifice a few berry to cheer up my pathetic little charity case.”

You swallowed hard at the offer, looking from his smile to the bottle. Thick red glass and a real paper label, although the text was illegible.

“Let me pour you some so we can skip to the part where you’re not making me miserable and we can celebrate my brave and triumphant victory.”

“Okay,” you said. It was fine, probably some type of opiate. Your dad had given you that sort of thing to help you stave off the hysteria before. It would be nicer than feeling like this, wrung out and hiccupping in the pitiful clutches of despair.

“Gotta be careful not to overdo it. Hey, you wanna eyeball this for me?” Buggy asked, laughing as he measured out the tincture and added some water. Seeing your lack of smile as he handed you the cup, he sighed dramatically and grabbed one of the bottles from his desk. “A toast to the flawless victory won tonight by the most fearsome captain in all of the East Blue.”

“To Captain Buggy,” you said. Buggy drew back the bottle, giving you a sharp look. Sluggish as your brain was, it took an excruciatingly long few seconds to realize what he wanted. “To Captain Buggy, the future King of the Pirates... and-and the best man I’ve ever known,” you tried again.

“Eh… I’ll take it,” he allowed with a shrug, tapping his bottle to your cup.

The drink was as terrible as you expected, but the taste of bitter medicine was still better than hard liquor. Buggy clearly didn’t feel the same, downing a mouthful without even wincing before unceremoniously collapsing onto the end of his bed. You ran a hand over your face. Red, hot, and a little swollen. You knew you looked rough, probably about as bad as you felt.

“You weren’t this weepy last time,” Buggy said. “You weren’t worried about me, were you?”

“Of course I was,” you said, frowning. “I was worried about all of you. I… I don’t know what I would do without you, Captain Buggy. I’m sorry, I’m…” You shook your head, trying to clear it somewhat. “It’s silly.”

“Yeah it is. Those idiots wouldn’t be able to hurt me even if I was doused in seawater and blindfolded,” Buggy said, rolling his eyes and leaning back on his elbows. “It was so easy, barely even worth bragging about. After I killed like ten of his men, the captain came out with this huge sword—clearly compensating for something. I let him get a good swing in right through the middle, and you should have seen his eyes when I put myself back together. His reaction was even better than yours. I’m pretty sure he shit himself.”

“And everyone else?” you asked.

“Yeah, they did fine too,” he said flippantly. “Frankly, it was boring. For me, at least. I could probably have taken them down all by myself.” He sighed dramatically. “But, hey, it was a good learning experience for my freaks.”

You nodded, dropping down to your knees to take his boots like always.

Buggy capped the bottle and buried it in the sheets, pulling something out of his pants pocket. You glanced up to see him messing with something wrapped in thin foil wrapping before forcing yourself to focus on the nightly ritual of wrestling his boots off. They were splattered in blood, a fact you only realized when some of it smeared onto your hands.

“I found these in his office,” Buggy said after you got the first boot off. “Salted caramels. They’re a bitch to get out of your teeth, but-” Buggy popped one in his mouth, moaning loudly at the taste, “sooo good. Want one?”

You were more concerned with the unabashedly vulgar moan than you were with the candy, it took you a second to remember the question.

“Oh, um. Yes,” you finally said. “Yes, please.”

“Okay, but don’t tell anyone that I’m playing favorites,” Buggy said as he unwrapped another, sitting up to hold it out. When you tried to take it, he pulled away. “Ah, ah, ah. Open wide, babydoll.”

You frowned, realizing that he meant to feed it to you. “Why?”

“Look at your hands! Have you got any idea how nasty blood is? Come on, say ahhh.”

You sat up to take it with your mouth, he pulled it back at the last second, your lips closing around empty air.

“Oh, you almost got it,” Buggy teased. “Try again.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Captain Buggy, why…?”

“I’m teaching you a valuable lesson. If you really want something, you have to work for it.” He held the chunk of caramel up again, within reach. Once again, you tried to eat it, but he pulled it away again. “So close,” he taunted. Every time you leaned closer, Buggy pulled it away, scooting further up the bed to keep it just out of reach, laughing the whole time. It forced you to crawl up, bracing yourself on the edge of the bed to chase the prize. Once you thought you really had it, uncomfortably hovering above him, he looked you in the eye and popped the candy into his mouth. “Guess you didn’t want it that bad,” Buggy said with a big grin, the words gummed up as he chewed.

Flushing with embarrassment, you sat back onto your knees.

“You know,” Buggy said, sitting up. “I had a dog once that did the exact same trick. It wasn’t as good as when you do it, although he was a lot better at actually getting the treat.” Foil crinkled and, this time, he pressed the caramel directly against your lips, pushing until you accepted it. You were too caught off guard by the way he’d put it into your mouth to do anything other than automatically chew and swallow, barely tasting anything. “See?” he asked. “Delicious, right?”

“Yeah,” you belatedly agreed, the word coming out on autopilot.

“I can’t stand having sticky fingers,” Buggy said, tapping his tacky fingertips together with a frown. “Be a good little puppy and lick them clean for me.”

You blinked, laughing dizzily in disbelief before you fully comprehended what he said. “What?”

“It’s what dogs do, isn’t it?” Buggy asked, wagging his fingers in front of your face.

“You mean it?” you asked, hoping that he was just playing with you.

“Yes, I do,” he said slowly, condescendingly. “It can’t be that much more embarrassing than doing tricks, right?”

So it was just another game. An embarrassing one. It felt dirty, like something you shouldn’t have been doing. But maybe that was in your head. Maybe Buggy didn’t see it that way. It was fine. Avoiding looking up, you opened your mouth for him. He said to lick them clean, but it was more practical to close your lips and suck until there were no more traces of caramel stickiness on his skin.

“And Cabaji says you’re dead weight,” Buggy said, satisfied. Pulling his fingers out of your mouth with a slick pop, he leaned back again, grabbing the bottle from the sheets to take another drink.

“Cabaji says that?” you asked, confused. You and Cabaji were, well, not friends. But he saved you. When you thanked him, he squeezed your hand. Hadn’t he? When you tried to think of it, the whole night floated somewhere distant, far beyond the warm bubble of this room, there was a chance you made that part up.

“Are you ever gonna finish up down there?” Buggy asked as if he hadn’t heard you, raising his remaining boot. Somehow, you’d forgotten that removing his boots was the reason you were on the floor to begin with. Trying to shake your head clear, you braced yourself to get his boot off. It took more effort than it probably should have. Your limbs had loosened, your head light like a balloon. When it came free, you tipped backwards, thumping down on the floor. There was no pain.

Buggy laughed. Surprised at first, then louder, a big belly laugh.

You sat up, dazed and frowning. Your expression only made him laugh harder. When his amusement settled somewhat, he managed to speak. “You okay?”

“It’s not that funny,” you said.

“You know when you see a kid trying their little heart out to do something, but they keep failing because they’re so small and stupid? It’s like that,” Buggy said. “Watching you struggle with everything you try to do is half the reason I keep you around.”

Frowning with all of the indignant strength you could muster, you got your legs beneath yourself, using the edge of his desk to stand. Although it had probably been more of a gradual process you were simply unaware of—that would explain your lack of concern with his antics—it was only when you were upright that you fully realized the impact of the medicine.

Woah.

Breathing deeply, you followed the motions of getting a rag to clean up your hands, surprised at how lethargically you moved, how warm your skin felt. Annoyed, you pushed off your jacket, relaxing when its weight was gone from your shoulders.

You mumbled an apology, something about the room being too warm, turning to look at Buggy. The air felt so nice brushing against your bare skin, like warm little whispers all over your arms and legs.

“Hey, kiddo, you’re lookin’ kinda flushed,” Buggy said. “I didn’t give you too much, did I?”

You blinked slowly, caught off guard by the way his pale skin glowed in the warm lamplight, the way it highlighted the shadows beneath his cheekbones. “What?”

“Come here,” he said, holding his hand out to you.

It wasn’t a long distance, a few feet at most, but your legs weren’t steady at all. You let go of the desk and almost immediately tipped forward.

“Sheesh,” Buggy said with a laugh, catching you before you fell. “I didn’t expect you to throw yourself at me.”

“Sorry,” you said distantly, trying to get your bearings. The melty lightheaded feeling had your head spinning, reality shifting on its axis before snapping back into place.

“It’s not like it's the first time,” Buggy joked, grinning. Standing like this, your hands on his shoulders, you were so close. His breath smelled like whiskey and caramel and his makeup had faded and smeared after the fight. You wanted to be closer, to feel his bare skin against yours. That would be so nice, wouldn’t it? He was warm and solid and-

You looked around, overcome with the absurdity of the situation. How long had you been in here? The air was warm and too close, and your bandana was gone when you nervously tried to pull it down.

“Sorry, um… What?” you asked with a confused smile, trying to focus your thoughts. “I… can’t think…”

“It’s not like I keep you around for your brains,” Buggy told you. He sounded a little drunk, smiling that boyish grin you usually only saw in the morning. “Why don’t you sit down? We’re still celebrating.”

“What about your… your makeup?” you asked, trying to find a familiar point to tether yourself with.

“What about yours?” Buggy asked, running his thumb over your cheek. “It’s smeared all over your face. You look like a one-eyed racoon.”

“Oh, I… I forgot,” you said, running a finger under your eye. It came away smeared with black makeup. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mind it,” Buggy said, “Actually, you look kinda cute like this—all cried out and red and pathetic. I don’t know why, but there’s something about that sad look you get that really turns me on. Is that weird?”

A beat too late, your eye widened in surprise, your shoulders raising defensively. “You can’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” You floundered, searching for the right words. The other night when you were drunk, the alcohol made your thoughts scatter, difficult to interpret. This drug was different, it eased away the edges. Too many words and a very soft world in which to speak them. That was confusing, just for a different reason. “Because it’s not true,” you finally said, almost proud to have remembered what you meant to say. “You’re just trying to embarrass me.”

Buggy laughed. “I don’t have to make shit up to embarrass you. Half the time you spare me the trouble and do it yourself.”

You frowned, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Don’t worry,” he said soothingly, “I’m into it.”

You looked at him for a second before laughing nervously, a little tremor working down your spine. “Captain Buggy, I, um…”

“Don’t you trust me?” he cooed in an overly saccharine tone.

“Yes, I do.”

“You’re not afraid I’m trying to pressure you into something, are you? It’s not like there’s anything wrong with sitting together. I bet you sat on your dad’s lap all the time,” Buggy said as he pulled you towards him, scooting back to make more room for you to sit.

“Not… like this,” you said, your nervous smile straining as you tried to twist sideways to sit with your legs across his lap because that was the normal, safe way. Sitting with your legs straddling his hips was entirely different and wrong. “Isn’t this… awkward for you?”

“Not at all. Make yourself comfortable.” You tried to hold your weight off of him, one foot on the floor, but he reached around to hook a hand around your thigh, forcing you fully onto the bed and onto his lap. “Yeah, just like-” Buggy’s words cut off with a groan when you tilted forward, a sound that made you tense up, very, very aware of his hips between your thighs.

“I’m sorry,” you said, trying to squirm away. “Did I hurt you? I can… move…”

“No, don’t,” Buggy said, his hold on your hips tightening. “It’s, uh…” He exhaled harshly. “Fuck. I swear I never even thought this sorta thing was hot before now… Like, sure, I guess it’s a little charming when girls get coy and act like they’re innocent, but, I don’t know, it’s so played out. But then the real deal comes around and suddenly I get the appeal. I really get it.”

You giggled at that. It wasn’t funny, you weren’t sure why you would find it amusing. “Shhh,” you said as seriously as you could. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?” Buggy asked, raising his eyebrows. “Have you ever even kissed anybody?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Yes, I have.”

“Riiiight, that shithead from the other day. But he abandoned you, didn’t he? Broke your poor little heart all because he couldn’t imagine looking at your busted eye while fucking you.” Buggy’s hand raised to cradle your head, his thumb tracing the scar beneath your left eye. “Well, personally, I think it’s hot that you’re just as damaged on the outside as you are on the inside.”

“No,” you told him, shaking your head with more vigor than was warranted when you weren’t sure what, exactly, you were protesting.

“Between you and me,” Buggy continued, leaning even closer to speak in a conspiratorial tone, “last time I was jacking off, all I could think about was how adorable it is. Your eyes just scream ‘rape me’ which is weird because only one of them works, and believe me, it makes it pretty damn difficult when you spend so much time on your knees. God, would you even know what was going on if I popped a boner while you were down there? I’m chubbed up half the time and you don’t seem to get it.”

That crossed a line you hadn’t been aware of, and he said it so easily. So casually. The words dripped hot poison into your core, pulling a dark shiver down your spine and an unexpected sound from your mouth. You didn’t mean it, you never really did, but your mind was drifting above the clouds, leaving your body to try and sort out the feelings he so effortlessly dragged out of you. As soon as your reaction registered, you clasped both hands over your mouth with enough force to almost send you tumbling backwards, but Buggy pulled you back, laughing.

“What was that?”

“I… didn’t mean to,” you said, but he probably couldn’t hear through your hands.

“No, seriously. Do you practice these sounds ahead of time, or do they just happen?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, releasing your mouth. “I…” When you squirmed in discomfort, his hips rolled to meet it, grinding directly between your legs. You squeezed your eye shut, just trying to breathe. The drug made your body relax, but it relaxed too much, dragging you down with the heaviness of your flesh. A bubble of sound left you, something like a sob or a laugh or a hiccup. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because it’s fun and, more importantly, because I want to,” Buggy said in a matter-of-fact way. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shook your head again, refusing to look at him as if that would buy you some time so you could find an answer.

“Hey, your captain asked you a question.”

“I… don’t know…” you told him, fleetingly meeting his eye in an attempt to convey your inner conflict, to make him understand what you felt.

Buggy made a harsh sound of frustration, his eyes rolling up to stare at the ceiling. “Yeah, that’s not really an answer. The last thing I need right now is you waking up tomorrow and crying molestation or some bullshit.”

“I wouldn’t,” you told him. “I don’t want you to-to stop, but… I-I don’t know what… or-or how, I…”

“Ah, I’m doing this all wrong, aren’t I?” he said in a softer tone, looking back down to meet your eye, smiling and petting your hair. “I mean what is the first rule of storytelling?”

You frowned, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Show,” Buggy answered for you, his hand sneaking around to hold the back of your head, “don’t tell.”

It wasn’t a kiss, not at first. At first it was just hot and wet because you didn’t understand what was going on. You knew you were supposed to open your mouth, so you did, but you couldn’t comprehend anything other than the vulgar assault of tongue and teeth. He tasted like salt and caramel and liquor and greasepaint. It was strange to feel his nose pressing against your cheek and the drag of his stubble against your skin.

Then something clicked, your body taking over while your mind faltered behind. With the drug swimming in your system, everything felt at least a little good. The heaviness inside of you was also raw, stimulating warmth, a sort of buzzing wherever the two of you touched. Kissing Buggy felt even better. Being kissed, letting him guide you. It was filthy and messy and a little gross to feel his tongue in your mouth, but it was animalistically hot.

When his hand pushed under your shirt, it tickled enough to make you laugh, squirming in his lap. He groaned hungrily right into your mouth, his hips grinding up against you. With one arm wrapped around you to keep your head in place, the other pushed your undershirt up and out of the way to palm your breasts. The limited exploration you had done with your body had given you the impression that you were indifferent to feeling anything other than disgust and shame, but the sensation of him rolling your nipple between two rough fingers zipped down your spine like electricity.

Even muffled by his mouth, you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning and whimpering, from helplessly pressing yourself against him for more. He said you hadn’t noticed when he was hard before, but you were pretty sure that’s what you were feeling right then, that it was his erection hot and hard between your legs.

Leaving both nipples hard and painfully sensitive, his hand slipped down to wiggle under the waistband of your shorts. Bad. Bad. Wrong. Very wrong. You pulled away with a harsh gasp, trying to squirm away from that hand.

“Hey, no, it’s okay. I’m just gonna check real quick to see if you’re wet,” Buggy said to console you. His makeup was smeared from the kiss, and his eyes were round and excited. “It’s not weird, I’m just trying to figure out where we’re at with the whole consent thing, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumbled, even if you had no idea what one had to do with the other. The angle was awkward, especially when he had to navigate beneath the confines of your shorts, but his searching fingers found your clothed pussy pretty quickly. His touch shocked you as physically as a jolt of electricity. Even through your panties, there was a foreign intensity to the pressure. More intense, maybe, was the look in his eyes. You expected amusement, but there was none. Stripped of the jokes and the teasing and the smile and the crass comments, he was somebody who wanted. Wanted you.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Buggy said, his fingers curling, pushing the fabric of your panties between your folds, and you choked back an embarrassing whimper, your hips unintentionally bucking forward.

“I don’t think this is… I’m really, really sorry, I…” you stammered out, stumbling over your excuses and apologies and anything at all that would get you out of this. “I mean, we shouldn’t, it’s probably not-”

“Shut up,” Buggy told you sharply. “Here I thought I should take things slow so you didn’t feel too bad about it afterwards, but you’re fuckin’ soaked.”

“No, it… ‘s not-”

“No?” he cut in, easily shutting you up with another curl of his fingers. “So what am I feeling right now. Did’ya piss yourself or something?”

“I didn’t! It’s just…” Hard to think. Hard to talk. Hard to figure out what you wanted. Hard to know what was happening, what he expected. You laughed a little, hoping that he would too, and that this would be a joke, but he didn’t. You broke, shaking your head and whining. “It’s too… too embarrassing.”

“For you, maybe. I mean, jeez, talk about desperate. You really want me, huh?”

“I… I don’t know if… I shouldn’t.”

“God, it’s like pulling teeth,” Buggy said, pulling his hand out from between your legs. “Wait, there’s an idea. Should I go get the pliers? Will that get me a straight answer out of you?”

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on anything other than the zapping memory of his hand down your shorts. If you didn’t want something, you already would have left, your body wouldn’t be singing and surging to get more of his touch. But you couldn’t say that you wanted to go further either because you could not imagine or conceptualize that happening. More than anything, you didn’t want to be alone. You didn’t want to disappoint him. The idea of being touched drove you wild, but there was a sickness in your stomach that was only getting worse.

“Listen, babydoll,” Buggy told you, his voice lowering, steady like he was talking to a frightened animal. “I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do, but I’m really hard right now so I’m gonna come. You can either stay here and come with me or get the hell out of here.” As much as you could feel Buggy trying to maintain composure, it wasn’t working.

You closed your eye, trying to think, just to scrape together a single coherent thought that would help you figure out what to do, but instead you thought of the warehouse. The air stank of wet rot and ocean air and old metal. “New girl,” Buggy had called, snapping to beckon you closer. Randall knelt on the ground. Pathetic and powerless, groaning in pain. You obliged then, rushing to Buggy’s side, your feet crunching on the broken glass and chunks of old building. Buggy didn’t look angry, not like you feared he would. Instead, he smiled. It was a mean smile, a frightening one. But a smile all the same, a gruesome expression meant to set you at ease, and maybe to keep himself composed. “Are you ready for your big moment?”

“So, uh,” Buggy, the real one, the one sitting beneath you watching with expectant eyes, said, licking his lips, “which is it?”

There was only one answer, there had only ever been one. You didn’t know. These things, your choices, weren’t for you to make. So you didn’t know. Not then and not now. Instead, you took the knife he offered and asked for him to show you how. Instead, you pressed yourself closer to him, hoping that he would decide, desperate for him to choose for you. Buggy moaned, his hips rolling upward to meet yours. He caught himself quickly, practically growling in frustration.

“Fuck… Stop,” Buggy told you in a rough voice, grabbing you by the back of the hair to force you still. “I need you to tell me what you want. Out loud. Right now, so it's on the record.”

“I want,” you told him in a weak voice, stopping there as you tried to find the right words.

“Yeah?” He prompted you.

“I want…” The words sounded so far away, like it wasn’t really you speaking them at all, as if you were trying to guess the right answer. “I want you, Captain Buggy. Anything you want, I’m yours.”

“Finally!” Buggy said with a hoarse laugh, shaking you back and forth. “See how easy it is when you allow yourself to be honest?”

Easy. It was easy, of course it was easy, of course you wanted to give him whatever he wanted, especially if it was you. Anything, anything, everything. Buggy grabbed you by the hips to spin you around, dropping you onto the bed. You landed on your back and bounced twice, dizzy from the sudden shift. Buggy was already kneeling between your legs by the time you blinked your vision clear, roughly getting out of his pants.

“Since we’re being honest now, I’ll tell you something too—I’m glad this is your first time,” Buggy told you, flinging off his shirt before getting you out of yours. He didn’t undress you with any grace, pulling your shirt and undershirt off in a twisted bundle of fabric, leaving you half naked to his manic, hungry eyes. “Opening night is special,” he continued, licking his lips. “It’s something that nobody has ever seen before. Sure, it lacks the polish of later shows, but there’s beauty in that. It’s real, it’s raw. This, right now, is your debut, babydoll. I wanna see you come. Once, maybe twice just to start because then I’m going to fuck you and that…” Buggy laughed, pulling off one boot and tossing it behind himself with a thump before taking the other. You sat up, trying to cover your chest, only to be knocked back down when he grabbed the waistband of your shorts and underwear to pull them down your thighs, curling your legs up to shake you out of them. “It might hurt, after all of this teasing I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back. But that’s good. You want it to hurt, it should hurt—pain is how good art is made.”

Before you could respond to that, he descended upon you. Not a kiss this time. At least, not a kiss on the lips. While his fingers trailed up your thigh, his mouth latched on your neck. The same moment he found your entrance, his teeth dug into your sensitive skin. When he began to suck, his fingers trailed upward to land on your clit.

You might have wailed, if only you had enough air in your lungs to do so. He only got a sharp, pathetic whine and more nervous giggling, your hips jumping up into his hand. Somewhere inside of your swimming mind, there was a thought. A spark of one, a bit of consciousness that had no real conclusion before it bubbled out of your mouth in a string of stuttered “I…I…I…” while your hands gripped desperately at his shoulders. He kept rubbing your clit and you knew, logically, that it would feel better if you stayed still, but you couldn’t.

Buggy pulled away from your neck with a slick pop. “Can you…fuckin’...can you settle down? I can’t do this with you trying to buck me off.”

You meant to tell him that it wasn’t your fault, that you couldn’t keep still, but the only response your drugged brain could manage was a nervous smile and hiccup. Making a sound of frustration, Buggy sat up and grabbed you by the waist to pull you down, his forearm settling across your pelvis to keep your hips flat. With his weight pinning down one leg and your other shoved aside by a not so gentle slap, you couldn’t go anywhere. So you whined, giving up and covering your face with your hands instead.

Buggy laughed. “Don’t act so pathetic, I know you love this. You're sooo sensitive," he said, lazily pushing a finger into your pussy before dragging it out. Letting his fingers glide between your folds with an agonizingly light touch, drawing little circles over your swollen clit. Again and again and again and- "I’m barely doing anything and you're practically having a seizure down there."

You whimpered, squirming beneath him to no avail. He had your hips completely immobilized. Buggy laughed again, slowly sinking his fingers into your pussy. Two of them now. Two calloused fingers to press deep into you, to seek out the spongy spot as they curled and thrust in and out. Slow, painfully slow. There was nothing you could do about it. Push at his shoulders with shaking hands, arch your back to nowhere, shake your head back and forth like it mattered, like he cared. You tried to laugh like he did, needed to diffuse some of the scorching tension, but the sound was breathy and high pitched and it wasn’t funny, it was torture.

Buggy’s fingers finally broke the slow pace to practically slam into you, and it sounded disgusting. Wet, harsh. You couldn’t stop shaking, and there wasn’t enough air, your lungs were being collapsed by the weight of the drug. Despite that, despite everything, your pussy squeezed his fingers, only getting wetter the rougher he got. The noises you made, the mewling and the whining and the moaning, were practically innocent compared to the loud squelching of each thrust.

“It sounds like I’m plunging a fuckin’ toilet,” Buggy said, laughing.

You pressed your palms against your eyes as if that would hide you, caught between humiliation and need. “I’m s-ss-sorry,” you babbled. “It’s… gross… I’m sorry, please just… Stop, it’s—”

“Stop?” he repeated. “Is that what you just said? You’re giving me orders now?” He slowed down, only to add another finger. The frantic rise of tension had your heels digging into his bed, your hands unable to decide if you wanted to cover your face or claw at the sheets.

“No! No, no no—” What were you even denying at this point? It was all incoherent anyway, and you knew you didn’t actually mean it.

“Do you know when I’m gonna stop?” Buggy asked. “After you come all over my hand. So quit yer yappin’ and hurry it up.”

Your whimper was barely audible, but it was one of resignation. He was right, the slick squelching sounds really did conjure the worst imagery. But, somehow, not even that killed your building orgasm. Neither did the musky smell, or the gross feeling of your sweat soaking into his bedding. It was all just sex and, right then, it was hot. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the tightening coil in your core, not even the man fucking you with three fingers, going hard enough to hurt, hooking and curling with each thrust to grind them against the spongy spot inside of you. The only thing that mattered was the pleasure that sat on the very tip of your tongue and how badly you needed it. To please him, to end this embarrassing torment, to stop inconveniencing him. You had no idea if it was what you wanted but, one way or another, your body would expel the foam in your head, the need in your belly. Come or throw up or scream.

With a choked yelp, you came. Your back arched, your body fighting against Buggy’s hold. You had one hand across your face while the other desperately clawed at the sheets and you wanted to fuck yourself on his fingers, to meet them with each thrust, but you couldn’t move your hips. All you could do was take what you were given, endure the helplessness, the sticky waves of pleasure.

And then it was over, just hot air and sweat.

There was a sense that you were not yourself, like you had been unbound from your existence as a person. But also one that stitched you into your hot, heavy skin so tightly that you knew you could not ever be somebody else. The lucidity of the feeling killed your desire, you needed a break. You needed to breathe.

“No more,” you told him, trying to squirm away, to grab his hand. “Please, I… Please, no more.”

“That was it? Seriously?” Buggy asked, incredulously amused. His fingers did slow down, stroking your g-spot in a way that made you twitch uncontrollably. “You just came?”

“I’m sorry,” you said breathlessly, covering your face with your trembling hands.

Buggy laughed in delight. “No, it was,” he said, finally pulling his fingers out and taking his weight off of you, “weirdly adorable. I was just joking about the puppy thing earlier, but you’re kind of proving my point. Girls usually, you know, moan. Or scream or something, I don’t know. What is it, do you think? The daddy issues? Or is it ‘cause I’m the first guy to make you come? Don’t get me wrong, I liked it, it was fuckin’ hot, but now I’m curious. Do you think you can moan like a normal girl at all, or are you just gonna keep whining the whole time?”

“I, um… I-I don’t,” were the only words you could muster as you stared at him, completely still. For a couple of seconds you had fooled yourself into thinking you had escaped the red stained-glass fog of the drug, but the vulgarity drew you right back in, enveloping you in its humid dusk.

Buggy grinned, a mad expression. “Guess we’ll find out.”

When he pulled off his underwear, you didn’t know if it was okay for you to look or not, your eye flicking nervously from his smile to the pale expanse of his torso, following the trail of hair that led down, and down. His cock bobbed up the moment it was free. It was more intimidating of a sight than you thought it would be, giving you that uncanny sense of vertigo, like staring down a very high cliff into some unknown abyss. This was wrong. Buggy clearly had no such reservations, spitting into his hand to stroke his dick as he loomed above you.

“You’ve got me in a romantic mood, you can stay just like that,” Buggy said as he crowded you further up the bed. You stared up at him, stiff and too nervous to move. He frowned. “Okay, well I didn’t mean literally just like that, you’re gonna have to make some room for me.” He gave you a second before huffing in irritation, rolling his eyes. “Fuckin’ virgins.”

Buggy grabbed you, hauling you up the bed to drop you unceremoniously into the pillows. You squeaked, trying to hold onto him while he hiked your legs up his waist. Breathing was difficult, all of the air smelled like Buggy and sex and you were so, so aware of the way it pressed slowly out of your chest. He released your right leg to grab his cock, slicking it between your folds. That made you gasp sharply, your fingers digging into his back.

“Are you trying to scratch me?” Buggy asked, amused but distracted as kept nudging his dick between your folds, his hips rolling forward when it caught on your entrance.

“I… I’m… No-hh—I-I-” Any part of your mind that was still functioning was focused entirely on the pressure of his cock as he pushed forward again, pressing it a little deeper.

“I don’t mind it,” Buggy told you, “but fair’s fair.” He punctuated that word with a harder thrust, pushing his cock past the initial resistance of your entrance. Your eye widened, a sound of surprise practically punched out of your body with the shock of it. His fingers had not at all prepared you for what it would feel like. The insistence. The weight. Buggy smiled, watching your face as his hips rolled forward.

This time, you whined, squeezing your eye shut and digging your fingers into his back, your pussy unintentionally tightening around him which only made the discomfort that much worse, but you couldn’t force your body to relax and you honestly didn’t know if you were trying to push him out or pull him deeper.

“No, look—look at me,” Buggy demanded hoarsely, hiking your right leg back up his waist, not moving until you met his demand. You let out a shuddering breath and opened your eye, looking up at him through tear coated lashes. His eyes were familiar to you, but not like this. In the dim light, all that remained was their devious sparkle, his hunger, his all-consuming lust. You tried to keep your expression composed, to hide your embarrassing reactions, but it was all in vain. The leverage made it easier for him to rock his hips forward, his cock driving deeper, and your expression crumpled as you cried out, you couldn’t help yourself.

The intimacy Buggy demanded of you while splitting you apart became intolerable. You tried to rear back, your back arching beneath him, but Buggy grabbed your jaw to keep you from looking away, to keep you from hiding. You tried to tell him that it was too much, too heavy, too big, too overwhelming, but you couldn’t find the words before he was already thrusting forward again, filling you more and more, his entire body covering yours, his eyes devouring your reactions. He watched with parted lips, his eyebrows raised in some sort of needful appeal. It felt so cruel, but Buggy didn’t look at you cruelly.

It was too much to bear, let alone understand. Giving up on begging him to slow down, you tried to push at his abdomen. Buggy wasn't bothered by it, or by the scrape of your nails along his back, it was like he didn’t even notice.

“Cap-tain,” you whined, the word broken in your mouth, squished from the grip he had on your jaw. When he moved, you could feel how you were shaking beneath him, around him, your heartbeat thumping hot blood between your legs. The pressure was intense, unfamiliar. You whimpered, your back restlessly arching, your free hand clawing at his shoulder. “I… It's… Too much…”

“Yeah?” Buggy asked, managing a smile before that became another moan. “You’re so fuckin’... Fuck.”

It was impossible to not respond to the overt sound of his pleasure, your pussy clenching around him, soaking his cock. It sounded filthy. You opened your mouth to say something and, like he’d been waiting for it, Buggy released your jaw, his hand resting beneath your chin to push your face up so he could kiss you instead. His tongue in your mouth was just as invasive as his cock in your pussy, it felt more like he was trying to eat you, to devour you, leaving you no space to breathe or think or react. You could feel every grunt and groan, feel the way he reacted to every little sound you made.

There was no refinement to it, no mercy, no thought given to anything other than animal instinct and need. Buggy was barely even pulling out, grinding himself into you as deep as possible over and over and over and it was maddening because he wasn’t slamming his cock into you the way he had with his fingers and that should have been easier to take, but there was no release, just more and again.

When he pulled away from the kiss, giving you a few moments to catch your breath, you threw your head back to keep him from kissing you again, worried that you’d pass out from the lack of air. Buggy groaned in irritation, punishing you with a hard thrust. And then another, and another. Skin slapping and squelching and your confused yelps of pleasure or pain.

“I-I—I can’t, I…” Your nails dug into his back, his shoulders, not to make him stop or even slow down, but because you had no other way to express what you felt. “Too much, i’ss—”

Buggy grunted, grabbing your legs again to pull them back up, changing the angle. The surprise zip of pleasure struck hard, making you moan loudly and openly, your wide eye meeting his. Buggy’s lips twitched almost like a smile, a little look of victory at getting such an unabashedly slutty reaction from you. You couldn’t take it back, and he knew he had an advantage, exploiting it with every thrust.

“Come on,” Buggy said, his voice labored and heavy. “Admit it… You love this. You wanted me to fuck you from… from the day we met. You’re a freak.”

“Captain… Buggy please,” you begged, whining his name desperately in a voice that sounded so unlike your own. None of you really felt familiar, not your voice or your body or the sensations. Maybe it was someone else and you were only along for the ride, that would explain why you lacked any and all control over your body, why you could feel the torturous build of pleasure in your core in spite of the discomfort or fear or uncertainty, why you had been driven to true delirium from the way his cock ground against your walls like his fingers had, another point of excess stimulation on top of the overwhelming fullness. You could feel your pussy squeeze around him, feel the fresh wave of slick arousal that coated his cock, spilling out around the seams. You had no control, there was nothing for you to do but hang on and accept what had become helplessness in its purest form.

Buggy laughed, a hoarse, mean sound that stuttered with each thrust before leveling into a moan. You couldn’t help but whimper in turn, your hips moving to meet each rocking thrust, your thighs trembling with how hard they were clamped around his waist. If you let go, you worried that you’d never stop falling, that you would be lost because there was nothing else.

“Buggy,” you whined. “Buggy, I…”

He groaned low, grabbing your hand to hold it with your fingers entwined, pinning it by your head. By now you were chest to chest, both of you sweaty enough to be slick, your breathing dangerously unsteady, lungs puffing the sweltering air. He was kissing you, but every part of your functional mind that still worked was focused on coming. Buggy didn’t seem to mind your preoccupation, content to kiss your open mouth, content to swallow all of your moans. You didn’t think it was physically possible to be closer to another human being, you could feel his heart beating within your own heavy ribcage, feel the rush of his blood through your veins. There was nothing left of you without him.

So, then, you couldn’t do anything else, there was no choice, just that anxious need, some wild feeling that you’d scream if you couldn’t come. After teetering so close for a frightening few seconds, that was the thought that tipped you over the edge, your body tensing and seizing beneath him, disturbing your synchronization as your pussy spasmed around him, your hands holding onto his back in a death grip, pleasure rippling through you, stoked over and over again by the relentless weight of his cock. When you were done whimpering and whining and writhing your way through your orgasm, your body going limp beneath him, Buggy released you from the kiss. You saw a thick strand of saliva pop between you as he pulled away.

“Did you just… come?” he asked breathlessly, incredulously.

You nodded, gasping for air, your glassy eye swirling with moving colors, your hazy mind unable to focus on anything while he was still inside you.

“Guess that answers that question then,” Buggy muttered. Laughing as he began fucking you again, laughing and then moaning, his thrusts less targeted and more indulgent. All he had to do was get his hand on your jaw to remind you to look at his eyes. It made you choke, whimpering as the wake of your orgasm faded into overstimulation all over again. The intensity of too much combined with the trembling pleasure-pain, all of it twisted and hazy red, a world filtered and scattered, intangibly delicious but also anxious and frightening.

Buggy fucked into you selfishly now, his hands digging bruises into your thighs, his thrusts jarringly rough and without any rhythm you understood. But the sounds he made, you liked those. They were almost pained, rising in pitch as he got closer. Lustful appetite in its most crude and feverish form.

“Buggy,” you whined, scrambling to hold onto him, to mitigate the violence of his desire. “Buggy, please-”

He moaned loudly, crushing you, claiming you with his open mouth on yours, all teeth and tongue and hunger. Using you, sparing you no soft affection when he came, burying his cock as deep as possible for those final few sporadic thrusts.

You thought you could feel it, feel his cock twitch inside of you, but maybe it was just your imagination. How could you feel anything other than the steady throbbing between your legs?

Buggy groaned, breathing hard. A second later, he pulled out and flopping onto his back beside you, either missing or ignoring your wince of pain. You covered your face with your hands, willing the world to fall away. You couldn’t understand it anyway, what was the point?

“I was thinking of a more appropriate title for your job,” Buggy said between ragged breaths. “I get worried that-that people might expect too much from you. So I was thinking something like Buggy the Clown’s Cocksleeve or—or the Flashy Fool’s Fucktoy. But just now, it came to me-” He snapped his fingers. “Captain Buggy’s Cock Puppet.” He turned his head to look at you, grinning. “Eh?”

A hard shiver worked down your spine. “That’s gross,” you muttered.

He huffed, annoyed by your answer. “It’s pretty bold to act like a prude when you were creaming all over my dick a couple minutes ago.”

You groaned, covering your face again.

“We’ll work on that,” Buggy said, sitting up. You opened your eye, watching him roll his neck and arms, his shoulders popping. His hair was a mess, a lot of it had come loose, he had to fight against the hair tie to get it out, swearing at it before the thing snapped and he threw it somewhere to the side. You were too sleepy and dazed to care that you were staring at him, admiring him. You did admire him, even if he said things you wished he wouldn’t, or did things you didn’t like. You admired him as your captain. And he was beautiful.

Buggy rolled off the bed. He wore his nudity without a shred of shame. You watched as he poured himself a big cup of water from the jug, downing it all in a steady stream of gulps.

“Thirsty?” he asked, shooting you a look over his shoulder.

You pushed your hair off of your sweaty face, the world spinning spectacularly as you sat up, and nodded. He filled the cup again as you crawled to the edge of the bed, wincing at the sharp pain between your legs, the wet mess coating your thighs.

“Drink up, you were leaking pretty bad from both ends tonight,” Buggy joked as he helped hold the cup steady in your shaking hands. You hummed, not really caring about his words because the water was the best thing you had ever tasted in your entire life, and it felt even better on your dry tongue and throat. He took it when you were done and you wiped your mouth, an anxious question forming in your mind. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to leave or not.

But you weren’t sure if you could move, either. Maybe you would just stay there forever. That didn’t sound too bad.

Buggy turned off the lights and threw himself onto the bed, uncaring that he was lying in the mess the two of you had made or that he was sweaty and grimy.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

What were you doing? Why were you here? What had you done? “I… um-”

“Yeah, I don’t actually care,” Buggy said through a yawn. “It’s been a long day and I’m wiped. Get up here.”

It took a moment for you to follow the simple order, but you managed to crawl up the bed. Rather than suffer your nervous attempts to find a spot that wouldn’t disturb him, Buggy grabbed you, pulling you against him like a child with a toy. He was hot and sweaty and the amount of weight he put on you wasn’t exactly comfortable, but you didn’t dare move—you didn’t want to move. His skin smelled like greasepaint and musk and sweat and gunpowder and leather and you drank it in, accepting your discomfort because it was Buggy.

In the swampish dark left behind in the red heat of passion, and especially in his arms, you thought about the affection you felt when you looked at him. It was only natural that you would love Buggy. Not as a lover, but as anybody would love their captain. To serve him as you had sworn, your love had to be absolute. But then you wondered what he felt for you. It would be too much and much too soon to ask for love, but surely there was something.

You, with a shocking amount of clarity given the fogged state of your mind, decided that you would ask him and accept whatever answer he gave. Emboldened by that resolution, you looked at him.

Buggy was already asleep.

#opla buggy #opla buggy x reader #buggy x reader #one piece live action #buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #my writing #flashbang #tw.dubcon #not sfw

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rhoorl · 9 months

Text

Delta Landscaping

Chapter 1: Welcome to Torrey Hills

It's here.

Series Summary: In this Triple Frontier AU, the boys start a landscaping business post-Colombia.

Series Masterlist

Rating: Explicit (18+). Not this chapter necessarily, but a blanket statement to this whole concept.

Chapter Summary: As much as we want to get to the thirst, there is some setup we need to do.

A/N: I first have to thank the amazing @goodwithcheese because, without The Layover, this idea would not have come to life. This entire concept was born from a scene in one of her chapters.

This AU stays true to cannon in some aspects (Tom is dead y'all) and not in others (the boys kept some of the money and Frankie does not have a kid). There is a main storyline, but also opportunities for extras/drabbles/asks … maybe a guest post or spin-off? I've included some Easter eggs and jokes throughout, some more obvious than others. From its conception this has been a group project, so let’s keep that energy going!

Finally, a big thank you to @gemmahale (our Technical Supervisor for all things plants and protective wear) and @trulybetty (the creator of our logo) for listening to my ramblings and for their advice and encouragement along the way! @patti7dc also contributed a hilarious idea for a commercial that had me cracking up.

Ok enough of my rambling, on with the show…(I hope you like it!)

_____________________

There's something kind of magical about when an idea finally comes together in your mind. Different thoughts, images, and words swim around in your head, some of them unconsciously, until they finally coalesce in the depths of your brain and bubble up. Going from abstract to clear and defined.

Benny had been grappling with forming an idea for months. It was right there, he could feel it. But it frustrated him because it never came together the right way.

_____________________

Nine months earlier

In the immediate aftermath of Colombia, the Delta Force boys tried to process what happened, each in their own way. Santiago took off for a few months traveling on his own, finding solace in discovering new places. Frankie came back with a renewed focus to get his life together, talking to a therapist Will recommended to him and going to weekly meetings. The more quiet and reserved one of the group, Will continued to find ways to help other veterans. He volunteered at the local VA and shuttled veterans to and from medical appointments. He found driving to be soothing for him – having a set path, a direction to go in, and accomplishing something. Sometimes his passengers wanted to talk, sometimes they didn’t. He was comfortable either way.

And then there was Benny. He needed to keep his body in motion to try and silence the whirl that went on in his head. Fighting helped. He continued training, getting booked for local fights in Tampa, sometimes making it over to Orlando or as far as Jacksonville. At first, it helped him numb some of the pain. He felt like dealing with physical injuries was easier than his mental or emotional ones.

When he wasn't fighting or training, he found himself returning to a love he had as a kid – drawing. At first, he didn't really draw anything in particular, just doodles. But eventually, his doodles started to form beautiful landscapes and vistas…pulling inspiration from places he had seen during his time in the service. The activity brought him a sense of calm, using his hands to concentrate and make something. It didn't have to be perfect or beautiful, it just was.

Months passed and the guys just sort of existed in this newfound reality. None of them really talked about Colombia to each other, leaving the hurt and pain largely unspoken. Benny, Will, and Frankie would see each other often throughout the week. Santiago would FaceTime occasionally depending on where he was in the world. Although the guys kept some of the money from their mission, none of them had really spent it. Benny never did end up buying that Ferrari.

One day while driving back home to the apartment he shared with his brother, Will decided to take a detour to drive through a few different neighborhoods. He and Benny tossed around the idea of buying a house together, even going so far as visiting some open houses together to check things out.

This neighborhood, Torrey Hills, was particularly beautiful, with a palm tree-lined entrance and expansive water fountain greeting you on the drive in. Will aimlessly drove around taking in the Mediterranean-style architecture. Lots of two-story homes, stucco and white brick, raw iron and metalwork. There were some ranch-style homes sprinkled throughout as well. He noticed one in particular that had a for sale sign – 319 Mulefall Court.

Parked on the street, he grabs his phone to do some quick research. He checks on the price of the house first, a lot lower than he was expecting just based on the looks of the neighborhood, which he confirms once he looked up some recently sold homes nearby.

"What's wrong with you?" He mumbled toward the house, wondering why it was valued so much lower than everything around it.

The housing market in Tampa was pretty competitive, something Will and Benny had already realized. Oftentimes by the time they found a house they both liked it was already under contract or had multiple offers. They conveniently kept the fact that they could pay cash for literally any house they wanted from their realtor; they wanted the house they chose to be special.

Will continued looking over the specs of the house. Four bedrooms, two and a half baths. Two-car garage. Pool. Pretty spacious backyard from the photos and from what he could see from the street. A beautiful, old oak tree in the front yard. He noticed there weren't too many photos of the interior of the house or much of a description.

Normally, he would text a listing to Benny to get his thoughts, but this time he went straight to calling the realtor’s number on the sign. The realtor, Ethan, picked up and was a bit surprised someone wanted to talk to him about that property. It had been sitting for a couple of months without an offer, so Ethan was eager to set up a showing for the next day.

When he arrived home, Will saw Benny sitting at their kitchen table, head down over his notebook with a pencil in hand.

“Hey man, what’re you doing?”

“Nothing just got an idea for something,” Benny said, not looking up.

Will heads to the refrigerator to pull out a beer, grabbing one for his brother as he goes to sit down in the chair across from him.

“D’you have a good day?” Benny asks, putting down his pencil and grabbing the beer from Will.

“Yea, Mr. Jacobs seems to be doing better.” Will pauses to take a swig of his beer. “So…I saw a house today.”

“What?”

“Well, from the outside. I have a showing tomorrow morning if you want to go.”

“Yea, where is it?”

“You know that Torrey Hills neighborhood? It’s in there.”

“Wooo, that neighborhood is nice! Are you sure you want to go all fancy?”

“It is a nice neighborhood for sure, it seems quiet. This place looks like it needs … some work.”

“How much work?” Benny is a bit skeptical of what his brother may be getting them into, but trusts that Will wouldn’t do anything too rash.

“It’s going to be a project.”

“A project?

“Yea. The house has been sitting for a couple of months,” he said as he fished out his phone from his back pocket, pulled up the listing, and handed it over to Benny. “Look, I figure we go in and take a look to see how bad it is. You know how much shit we built with Dad back in the day. We can even call Joel to see if he thinks it's doable for us to fix it up ourselves.”

Benny looks up from the phone and gives a little smile as he hands the phone back, “Sure, man. Sounds good.”

Will and Benny could buy any house. But rather than buy something brand new, they wanted to buy a house they knew needed a lot of love and care. They wanted little projects they could work on, either together or by themselves.

______________________________

As the guys walked through the threshold of the house with Ethan in tow, they realized they may be biting off more than they can chew with this place.

“Shit, how long has this place been empty?” Benny asks as he looks around.

“Well, the house was built in the ’90s and had the same owner for about 20 years before it became an Airbnb,” Ethan said as leaned on the kitchen counter. “Then, some guy bought it, trying to do some real HGTV-type shit in here. Bought it before the pandemic, but didn’t realize how much work goes into a complete flip, you know? It’s not like the TV shows. Anyway, he ended up getting in over his head with it and then the foreclosure happened. He left the place an absolute goddamn mess,” he gestured around. “The neighbors have been on my ass to get this place sold. The curb appeal is kind of bringing down the block.”

Will quietly walks around the living room, his mind working through logistics. He comes into the kitchen where Benny was checking out the cabinets and appliances.

“Ethan, can you give us a minute?”

“Yea sure, I’ll be out in the backyard, y’all take your time,” Ethan said as he attempted to open the glass door leading out to the back porch. Struggling, he decided to head back out to the front door and unlock the fence to the backyard.

“So, what do you think?” Will asked, arching his eyebrows.

“Psh, I don’t know man, this is kind of a shit hole, right?”

“Yea, but like … we could do this. Maybe get Fish to come over and we can demo the inside. Start from scratch?”

“We should call Joel.”

Their cousin was a contractor in Texas, so he would be able to give them his honest opinion of whether or not they could do this. They ended up calling him on FaceTime so he could see what they were dealing with.

“I mean, it’s not gonna be easy or quick, but I think y’all could do it,” his low Southern drawl reverberating in the empty living room. “Plus, when you’re all done I can come out and inspect it for you. Sarah has been bugging me about taking her to Disney,” he laughed.

“Oh hell yea, that would be awesome!” Benny lit up starting to see how it could all come together based on Joel’s suggestions.

Will hadn’t seen his brother get this excited about something in a while.

“Ok, Joel. We’ll talk to you soon … tell Tommy and Sarah we say hi.”

“Later guys.”

Hanging up and looking back at Benny, who still had a smile on his face, Will clears his throat.

“So, what do you think? Should we do it?”

“You already know what I’m going to say!”

“Alright, let’s go talk to Ethan,” Will says motioning to the front door.

Coming out of the front door, they head out around the right side of the house, picking their feet up high to walk through the overgrown grass and weeds.

“This fence looks a little rough,” Benny observed, jiggling one of the loose boards.

“Hey, stop that! Don’t fucking pull it out.”

“....that’s what she said?” Benny laughs.

Will rolls his eyes, slapping his brother on the chest. “You’re so fuckin’ stupid.”

As they head back, they notice the pool. Ethan was standing at the edge looking at his phone. He hears them traipsing through the overgrowth and turns around, “Hey guys, what do you think?”

“Well, it’s going to need a lot of work, that’s for sure, but, we want to make an offer.”

“Shit, really? I mean … cool. Yea ok, I’ll draw something up and send it over.”

Giving them both a handshake, the men start to walk back to the front. Benny pulls out his phone taking a few photos of the backyard and the front as they make their way back to Will’s Jeep.

Ethan gives them one final wave before pulling out of the driveway and heading out.

Will and Benny walk up to the driveway and give one final look at the house, Benny snapping a few more photos. They hear someone clear their throat behind them. Turning around they see a woman, around their age, walking a corgi.

“You guys going to buy that?” she nodded towards the house.

“Uh, yea we’re thinking about it,” Will said cautiously while Benny bounded past his brother to crouch down to pet the dog.

“Aw man, I love corgis!”

“Ha, thanks, he loves people so you’re making his day. My name is Megan, that's Bucky.” She extended her hand to shake Will’s first, looking down at Benny who got back up. Removing his backward baseball cap and putting it in his left hand to shake her hand.

“I live over there, the blue two-story with the basketball hoop,” she says pointing over to a house a few doors down and across the street.

“Do you play basketball?” Benny asks, reaching back down to give the dog some belly scratches.

“No, but my son does.” She reaches up to brush some hair out of her face and the boys both notice the huge diamond on her finger.

“What’s the neighborhood like?” Will could tell it was a nice neighborhood, but still wanted to do the proper reconnaissance.

“Oh, it’s pretty quiet. A few families, but some singles as well,” she eyes them both up and down. “You have some nice neighbors on both sides of you. We’ve been trying to have more events together, block parties, and stuff. Hopefully, you boys can fix up this piece of shit and we can all come over,” she smiles tilting her chin up at the house.

“Yea, well that’s the goal.” Benny looked up smiling, continuing to play with the dog.

“Well, I’ll be seeing you around hopefully.” She waves and continues her walk.

Later that night, Will was sitting in the living room playing some zombie video game when he noticed Benny head back over to his chair at the dining room table, notebook, and pencil in tow. Except this time Benny had some colored pencils with him too. Will saw his brother prop up his phone, using it as a reference for whatever he was drawing. A small smile on his face as he got to work.

______________________

The next month was busy getting everything together with the realtors. During that time, Santiago returned from his travels, wanting a bit more stability than the nomad life. He and Frankie had been helping the brothers pack.

Closing day comes and before they go in to sign the papers, Will pulls out his phone.

WILL: Headed in now to close on the house…should have the keys by 5. You guys want to come over and check it out?

FRANKIE: Yea, Pope and I can head over after I get out of work.

BENNY: Sweet, see you guys later. Bring beer!

“Goddamn, my fucking hand hurts,” Benny puts his pen down and massages his hand. “I didn’t realize we had to sign so much shit.”

“What did you think, we would sign one paper? We’re buying a house.” Will chuckles.

_________________________

The boys waited approximately one day before fully starting Operation Bachelor Pad, as Benny put it. Will continued to lean on Joel’s advice about what materials to buy and avoid and techniques to use. Joel even sent them a new set of power tools as a housewarming gift.

The sweltering weather made working outside on the yard a bit of a hassle, but one of Will’s first orders of business was to clean up the front so it wasn’t such an eyesore to the neighbors. Between the four of them, they were able to knock it out rather quickly. Will mowed the grass, while Frankie meticulously edged. Being the tallest of the group, Benny worked on pulling leaves out of the gutters with Santi’s help. They pulled weeds and removed a couple of dead shrubs. When they were all done, the boys sat in some folding chairs in the driveway drinking from their bottles of water.

“It’s so fucking hot out,” Frankie said as he took his hat off, wiped his forehead and combed his hair with his hand, before returning his hat to his head.

“How am I this sweaty?” Benny grunted as he peeled off his T-shirt, resting it on the back of his chair.

“What, you trying to give a show to all of the housewives?” Santiago teased him.

“Fuck off, it’s hot. If the pool wasn’t such a goddamn disaster I would jump in there,” Benny laughed.

Will looked up and saw Megan walking towards them holding a basket.

“Hey boys,” she smiled.

“Hey Megan,” Will got up, meeting her at the front of the driveway. “What’s this?”

“Where’s the corgi?” Benny yelled. Will turns around to glare at him. “Just kidding, hi Mrs. Megan!”

“Oh my god, Benjamin, please do not call me Mrs. It makes me feel old,” she chuckles. “Here, I wanted to bring something by, not sure how stocked your fridge is yet and I saw you had some friends over.” She nodded to the group behind Will.

Handing over the basket, Will sees she had arranged a few bottles of water and Gatorade, along with some homemade cookies and a gift card to a pizza place.

“Wow, thank you, this is so nice,” Will smiled. By this point, Benny had walked up to see what was in the basket too.

“Nice, this is awesome!” he said, pulling out one of the cookies and stuffing it in his mouth. He noticed Megan giving him a quick up and down, so he stood a little taller. “This is fucking amazing. Are you a cook or something?”

“Baker. And no, not professionally or anything. I just dabble.”

“Well, you can dabble with us anyti-” he chokes as Will hit him in the side of the stomach. “Shit. I, uh, I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry,” he looked down bashfully.

“I know what you meant, all good,” she laughs. “Well, I should be heading out.”

“See ya later!” Benny waved, grabbing one more cookie from the basket before bouncing back towards the chair.

“So, are all of your neighbors hot?” Santiago asked with an arched eyebrow. “May need to move in here myself.”

“Fuck off, Pope. She’s nice. She’s actually one of the first people that has come by to say anything.”

________________

It was so fucking hot outside. Florida summers were no joke. As a result, the boys used the next few months to completely renovate the inside of the house. They installed new countertops in the kitchen, laid down hardwood floors, upgraded nearly every appliance or fixture in the place, and fixed the glass sliding door to the back porch. As the months went on, the house became a source of their collective pride and joy; they reveled in their handiwork.

Megan would come by every so often to say hi. She introduced the guys to a few other neighbors and it felt like they were starting to develop a home base. Even though Frankie and Santiago didn’t officially live there, they may as well because they were over all the time, even when Will and Benny were gone.

As the weather got cooler, by Florida standards, the boys decided to focus on the outside of the house.

One day as they were sitting around watching a football game on a lazy Sunday, Benny got up and headed out of the living room with a purpose.

“Where the fuck is he going?” Santiago looked over the couch to where Benny ran off to.

“Who knows, the kid has been really focused on something and I don’t know what it is,” Will said.

“Ok! I got it!” Benny ran back into the room with his notebook and a pencil in tow.

The other three looked at him with confused looks.

“I’ve been thinking about what to do with the yard, but I think I finally figured it out. This was the missing piece.” He quickly scribbled some things down and turned his notebook around.

“What are we supposed to be looking at Ben?” Will asked, confused and trying to read what Benny’s chicken scratch said.

“Ok, look,” Benny sat in the middle of the couch, Will and Frankie on either side and Santiago came over to sit on the back of the couch, looking over his shoulder.

“Let’s start in front. We need to replace the fence on both sides and put in a swing gate, that’s easy. I’m thinking we do some flower beds here in the front. I haven’t decided what kind of flowers yet. But leading from the front porch over to the fence we’ll put some flagstone pavers down. Yea, I think that’ll look nice. Oh, and a couple of planted pots here in the front,” he motioned to circles he drew on either side of the door.”

He keeps rambling as the other three look at each other, Benny oblivious to them.

“Oh and then on the left side of the house, I’m thinking some permeable pavers so that the water can drain, will help us not have standing water to avoid excess mosquitos and algae and shit. That side of the fence is bigger so we can easily get the lawn mower into the backyard that way and not fuck up the grass as much.”

Moving the paper closer, he points to the left side of the paper. “Ok, so once we get into the backyard, I think we line it with some raised flower beds. Near the pool, we’ll have some more perennials. We’ll add some more planted pots on the porch. Maybe some string lights or something.”

“And then this is what finally came together!” he smiled pointing to the back right of his drawing. “I think … wait for it … we build a gazebo thing.”

“Isn’t that called a pergola?” Santiago asked.

“Same shit. They’ll be a structure back there. With some shrubs up to the fence line. We can put a palm tree out there, some more flagstone pavers, and then we include a little water fountain in one of the perennial beds here.”

When he finished, he leaned back on the couch and exhaled, pleased with himself and excited that his idea finally came together.

“So that’s what you’ve been working on, huh?” Will smirked.

“Yea man, I … I don’t know. Ever since we came here for the first time I had this … vision. Like, I could see it, but I couldn’t. So I’ve been working on different designs.” Benny paged through his notebook showing numerous mockups of their backyard.

“Holy shit, Ben, that’s awesome,” Frankie looked over at Benny. “But what if you put a grass bed over here by the utilities.”

“Yea … yea, that could work Fish!”

_______________________

Over the next few weeks, Benny and Frankie continued to tinker with the design, sending Will and Santiago out on Home Depot runs to get things off their list.

As they did working on the interior of the house, they found themselves opening up to each other as they worked, finding that keeping their hands and bodies busy gave their minds time to process.

And they worked hard, completely rejuvenating the look of the house both from the inside and outside, so much so that the neighbors took notice.

Megan was the first to come over to ask if the guys could look at her lawn. Benny made a few easy suggestions, offering to fix it up on weekends. Then another neighbor and another neighbor. Before they knew it, the boys had worked on nearly every house on their block, which helped them get to know everyone.

One night as the boys were hanging out in the backyard, Benny came up with another idea.

"Ok, hear me out," as he opened the cooler to grab beers for everyone.

Frankie was by the grill and turned around to peer over at Benny. "What Benjamin? What job did you sign us up for now?" chuckling as he took a swig of the beer Benny handed him.

"Landscaping."

Cocking his head to the side, Santiago repeats back matter-of-factly, "Landscaping."

"Like what, do it professionally or something?" Frankie laughs.

Benny looks over at Will who was observing, taking it all in.

"Oh come on! Look at what we did with this place," gesturing around to the backyard.

They all had to admit they did a beautiful job with the backyard. It has been almost therapeutic for them, working on this house together.

“We’ve already been doing it! Megan’s lawn. Fish, you had a great idea for Melissa and Derek’s backyard, they fucking loved what you and Pope did with the place. We … we could do this for other people. Figure out how to make shit better.” He pulled his cap off, brushing his hair.

Although the other three had always seen Benny as the little brother, bouncing off the walls with energy, they had to admit he had a newfound focus when it came to the projects around the house. His brain was crawling with ideas. Plus, they were having fun working on projects for their neighbors. They had gotten very close to some of them.

"This could be a legit business for us. I even have a name I came up with. Wait for it…Delta Landscaping!" He beamed, clearly proud of himself and waiting for the guy's reaction.

Next Chapter

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first installment of this series! Seriously thank you to everyone who has sent me a message or a comment in the lead-up to this. I’ve had so much fun interacting with all of you and it has been a bright spot in my days for sure.

Let me know if you want to be on the tag list moving forward!!

#delta landscaping #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier au

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ryttu3k · 24 days

Note

this might be a silly question, but do we know what sascha's zulo form looks like? and if we dont, do you have any head cannons?

The 'canon' answer is that all Zulo forms are completely identical and Sascha's is no different, as described in the original Players' Guide to the Sabbat:

"This power enables the vampire to assume the form of a real monster. In one turn, the vampire's entire body transforms into a seven to eight-foot-tall creature with grotesque features. The vampire has clawlike, seven-fingered hands, a row of bony spines protruding from her vertebrae, a horribly deformed head, huge muscles and thick blackish -gray skin covered with a slick, black, oily residue. Oddly enough, all vampires using this power take this form, though each has slight variations."

Still held true as late as the V20 corebook, although it no longer emphasises that they're all identical. More specifically, so does the Revised corebook! The Clan Novel Saga, specifically the individual story written by Lucien Soulban, is Revised-era, and is the only story where we get a specific description of Sascha's Zulo form:

This is one of the very few things V5 actually did right for the Tzimisce, in that Zulo form is no longer identical to everyone:

"With a mastery of the body so complete that it surpasses natural limitations, the vampire can take on a truly monstrous form, complete with vicious claws, protruding fangs, ridged features, and corded muscles. Although its exact traits can vary between occasions, the form often has an individual, specific appearance that manifests every time this power is used, a vision of the user’s Beast made flesh. Some look like hellishly malformed animals, some look demonic or atavistic, and some defy any sense of worldly familiarity. Many incorporate the traits of other vampires in nature, such as leeches, bats, ticks, and mosquitoes, magnified to grotesque proportions."

The fact that it's an amalgam between Protean 4 and Dominate 2 is still a stupid-ass decision. Ha ha yeah you can change yourself because you're ~dominating your body~ oh get fucked. If you had to make Vicissitude an amalgam, at least make it something that makes sense, like Auspex! Also it now costs drastically higher, it had always been Vicissitude 4 and now you need two extra levels? Man c'mon.

Anyway.

A lot of fandom has embraced that, or, potentially, the V5 Companion writers looked at how basically every Tzimisce fan went "yeah no fuck that" and designed their own Zulo form. There are some amazingly, wonderfully creative designs out there, and I firmly believe that in a clan like the Tzimisce, Zulo forms would be individualistic and incredible to see. And Sascha has Vicissitude 7 and Style 6, as if they're going to be constrained to some basic-ass variation everyone has ;)

For my own interpretation, I hc that they have wings with razor-sharp black feathers made of chitin, to really tie into that Angel of Caine imagery. They're not quite designed to fly with, they don't use Chiropteran Marauder form, but they can glide a bit and, more importantly, intimidate ;D I see the main body of their Zulo form as catlike, like this sleek black panther, with razor-sharp claws, spikes down the length of their spine, and a sword-like blade on the end of their tail, and alarmingly intelligent and human-like eyes that look really disconcerting in a panther-like face.

But that's just 'my' Sascha - there are probably a ton of incredible designs out there!

#vampire the masquerade #tzimisce #vicissitude #sascha vykos #mx meat crimes

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under-yourbed09 · 23 days

Text

Your Lips, My Lips, Apocalypse 💕

Wing Beifong x Airbender Daughter of Tenzin!Reader ~ Where in the Battle with Kuvira, the reader saves Wing from falling to his death. And when she asks him if he is okay, he just kisses her while the whole place is going to shit. Based on the song Apocalypse - Cigarettes After Sex. 🎧

Little thing to know - I HAVE REQUESTED THIS TO OTHER BLOGS BEFORE BUT DECIDED TO WRITE IT MYSELF. So no one better be accusing me of coping 😟, Thank you 🌷

ALSO THIS CHARACTER WILL NOT BE WEARING THOSE TIGHT RED AIRBENDING SUITS (just no 😀), just pretend you have something else on and a glider or you can fly or something 😭

The world was collapsing around us, dust and ash swirling in an insane dance as we fought for our lives against Kuvira. The ground trembled violently, as if it were writhing in anguish beneath them. All I could think about is if Wing is okay, if he is injured or dead. My mind filled with horrific thoughts, but what if they came true? The first time I witnessed the force of that cannon, I felt horrified.

Here we are, sprinting throughout Republic City, fighting that metal monstrosity head on. The fight left every road flooded with the wreckage of buildings, and the surrounding air was filled with gas, dust, and pandemonium.

Korra launched rock missiles, and the other airbenders and I flew about Kuvira's robot like flies, hearing the giant's screeching attempts to hit us. Abruptly, the metal giant raised its hand and pointed the cannon straight toward Korra.

"Create a tornado and attack from the top! RIGHT NOW!" I quickly ordered.

We all moved fast to get into position, whirling about and aiming at the giant's hand.

We delivered our blow. When the monster lost its balance, the explosion destroyed the surrounding ground and its body fell onto a building. Laughing to myself, I quickly took off along with the others, watching as my brother Meelo disappear into the cloud of dust. I was about to tell him to get out until I realized it was Meelo. He can handle himself.

The dust cloud disappeared and revealed the giant reaching to it's face to crush Meelo. He flew fast past us and in our direction.

I saw the cannon pointed at us out of the corner of my eye. It was going to fire on my sister Jinora and me. I swiftly launched myself forward.

"JINORA, LOOK OUT!" I let out a scream and hurriedly moved forward to grab my sister.

Ikki and Meelo arrived to assist us as we began to descend. When the two of them realized they couldn't support our weight. I quickly grabbed the three of them before bending the air below us to form an air cushion and lowering us gently onto the hard pavement.

I hugged my siblings, not wanting to let go.

"Are you three okay?" I asked, while clinging on.

"Yeah, don't worry Y/N we are," Ikki smiled in return.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Meelo interrupted.

"I don't know." I heard my voice hurting, and my vision turned blurry.

I looked up and watched a large chunk of a building fall upon the giant. Wait, Wing could be there.

"Jinora, bring them back to dad please. I'm going to go find my boyfriend." I instructed her, bending a tornado under me to hurry to Wing.

Behind me, I heard my siblings cheering me on. I chucked to myself. Seeing that the tornado wasn't moving fast enough, I propelled myself forward by bending the air below me.

I hurried up to Korra as soon as I arrived. Taking hold of her and turning her to face me, I tried to figure out her feelings through her blue eyes.

"Korra, please tell me Wing is okay- where is he!?" I questioned as I recovered my breath from running so fast.

Wing was attempting to knock down a structure. However, the cannon was then aimed at him. I understood the cannon was about to release. My heart was pounding and my stomach fell. And it let off a blast at that very instant.

A violet ray of light blasted out. I couldn't tell if the beam struck Wing or his rope. No. NO. Please be fine, please be fine.

A few seconds later, a figure in green and gray falls from the sky. Wing.

I leapt into action. I used my bending to launch myself to Wing. My body crashed against his, the impact sending shockwaves through my system as I wrapped my arms around him. We rolled along the ground.

Now that Wing is in my arms, he is safe. I lifted him up and allowed him to steady himself with my arms. I touched his face to see if there were injuries.

“Wing, are you okay? Are you hurt? We have to ge-”

Wing's fingertips found my chin, luring me into a gentle kiss. His hands traveled down to my waist and mine moved down to his chest. Wing's lips were soft and warm against mine, his hands tightened around my waist out of protectiveness. Even though we've kissed before, it always feels like our first. Our breathing synchronized, both of us clearly reluctant to let go. I felt the blast's scorching wind, knowing that we would die if we stayed any longer, but I didn't really care.

He softened his features and grinned a little as we both released our grips and stared into each other's eyes. His smile, his olive green eyes, my sweet Wing... He would have left me.

"Yeah, I'm alright, sweet pea."

"Are you sure? Nothing's hurt?

"Yes, my dear... You know you're adorable when you're worried. How your eyebrows knit together and how your eyes soften."

When he proposed the idea, he grinned. I felt a slight heat on my face. I'm not sure if it was his gorgeous smile or the fact that he thought I was cute.

"Wing, please don't." I answered.

With a smile on his face, he threw up his hands. I couldn't resist grinning as well. This man.

His hands gripped mine.

"Now we gotta go before that thing blasts another beam at us." He states, looking at the metal giant.

"Oh right, right, right, lets go." I reply

#Wing Beifong #legend of korra #Beifong #beifong family #wing beifong x reader #wing imagine #wing beifong imagine #lok wing #lok #the legend of korra #Legend of Korra imagine #MY FIRST POST OMLLLLL #Be nice 😀#wing beifong is bae

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movieexpertlvr · 1 month

Text

𝒢𝓁𝓊ℯ𝒹 𝓉ℴ 𝓎ℴ𝓊 ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ?

Jason dean x female!reader NOT CANNON!!!

This is my first write so please take it easy on me NOT PROOF READ!! Please feel free to comment on the notes of the post but please keep it some what appropriate!!!

TW!!!: general dark themes (I mean it’s heathers), manipulation?, maybe mentions of self harm, and maybe more so if any of these things trigger you please scroll on!!!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: 𝐣𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩

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Your not exactly the kind of girl guys watch you tend to stay unnoticed however, this means you notice everything so since JD got here you quickly picked up on the fact that he just so happen to be everywhere you were at school if you were in the hall he was in that hall, if you were in the bathroom he was standing out side of it, if you looked around in the cafeteria his eyes were on you. And honestly you had completely convinced your self you were crazy and that it was just in your head, is he not allowed to be around the school some people are just always in the halls skipping so you chopped it up to you were just crazy and decided to just ignore it.

Some days go by and you decided the best way to get this out of your head is to just go and talk to him what’s the worst that could happen, well I mean your social anxiety has you terrified to but you figure it will be alright and it might be something to ease your mind so when lunch comes around and you see him staring you finish your lunch and walk up to him.

You walk up to him slowly with an aura of nervousness around that JD can sense like a predator with its prey. and you come and stand next to where he’s sitting, after a few seconds of staring he breaks the silence “well hello there stranger” he says this with an almost teasing tone but an underlying tone that draws you in. and you find your cheeks getting red out of nervousness and the part where you didn’t realize until how just how attractive he is. “h-hello I-i noticed your new and I figured I would maybe offer to show you around” you studder out twirling a peice of your straight long black hair a bit. JD is intrigued by this offer and raises an eye brow and knods “well sure darling but only if we can go now don’t want you to be late to your science class~” he says the end part with a little smirk. you do wonder how he knows your next class but you figure he’s just seen you walk into it and have the same teacher maybe and honestly didn’t give to much thought to it and you knod to him and let him lead you out of the cafe.

As you both walk through the hallways he keeps his gaze fixated on you completely never taking his eyes off of you, it makes you wonder what’s going on inside his head what is he thinking right now he’s got this whole vibe that tells me I should run away as fast as possible but at the same time draws me to him more than I’ve ever felt to anyone els. And feeling quite blunt you ask him “so what’s your deal long trench coat dark aura I heard about you sh-shooting blanks at some jocks in the cafe..” he cuts you off “are you scared.” He looks you in your eyes and you noticed your cornerd in the lockers his arm above you trapping you in as he’s significantly taller than you and you take a deep breath “n-no.” You studder out it not sounding true by any means and he sees it and says “hm lies” he says looking at you trying to read you and you interrupt his thoughts “i-I’m always scared s-so it’s hard to really tell I’m not a brave person..” he smirks hearing this lifting your chin with one of his fingers “what if that could change what if you had some one to protect you all the time you’d never have to feel unsafe again I’d make sure of it, how would that sound flower?” You can’t help but smile your cheeks getting red as his closeness starts to make your chest flutter and you just simply knod looking into his eyes and all he sees is a look of submission and he kisses you it’s a rough demanding kiss but also at the same time some how leaves you feeling full and assured. You smile tucking your hair behind your ears and he lets go as the bell rings “get to class MY flower.”

When you get home from school your met with an empty house and a note on the fridge that says “𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮<𝟑“ you roll your eyes and leave the note going up to your room and plopping your bag on the bed and doing nightly routine and deciding to get to bed early cause you don’t have any home work. A few hours later you start to stir awake this always happens when you go to sleep early you wake up in the middle of the night and who do you see all of tree feet away from you sitting on your bay window smoking a cigarette JASON FREAKING DEAN!

You rush up out of bed turning on your lamp which is fairly dim so it doesn’t do to much to lighten it up your now standing across the room from him “w-what are you doing here..” you say in a confused quiet voice with a hint of nervousness and he starts walking towards you sitting on your bed looking at you face to face “what I said I would little flower im protecting you, your sleep is your most vulnerable I mean darling you don’t even lock your windows anyone could have gotten in here” he says in that time that draws you in and makes you understand everything he’s saying like it’s perfectly normal and you knod. I mean he wasn’t trying to hurt you just watching you and he did say he would always be there so this isn’t really bad and you get back in bed laying down and he smiles happy that even though you waking up wasn’t in the plan that it went well and he scoots up to where he’s sitting up laying on the bed and signals for you to come put your head on his chest and you do and you feel so protected and warm cuddling up close to him and taking in his smell of gun powder cigarettes and cologne which is intoxicating and you fall asleep quicker than you ever have before and when you wake up he’s gone but his scent still lingers reminding you 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥.

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫!!!!

#jason dean #jason dean x reader #heathers #heathers 1989 #jd #jd x reader #jd x veronica #heather chandler #heather mcnamara #veronica sawyer #heathers musical #christian slater

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