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brazenlystrong · 3 months

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“ Your smile is a whole afternoon , ”

@cowboynanami

On the day of the date he is but a smitten man, the excitement and adoration he feels for Nanami has taken over his mind and rendered him as light as a feather, floating on cloud nine. He doesn’t realize that he is skipping around the rooms of his apartment like a frolicking child in a green meadow under the warm rays of the morning sun peaking at the far horizon. His infinity elevates him by increasing the space of each leap his feet make, making him look as though he is bouncing off on an invisible trampoline. Way past the crush phase, his heart is fluttering in his chest like the colorful wings of a butterfly, bringing the hues of the rainbow to life.

Gojo stands in front of a mirror wearing a designer suit, the neat fabric complementing every curve of his slim-athletic shape. He adjusts the collar of his black lurex shirt with silver Drako embroidery and matching blue lurex tie and handkerchief. He wants to look good for Nanami, not just for himself. He used to perceive fashion as something that is only for one’s own self-esteem. As it should be— however… when one is bonded, heart and soul, with another, they also begin to want to look dashing in their lover's eyes. It’s no longer just ‘I’, but ‘you and I’. They are a duo, a match made in heaven.

He brings a hair comb through the snow-white strands of his hair, neatly brushing them out for a light slicked-back look. He adds hair gel afterward to secure the hairstyle he’s going for. Gojo slips on a Rolex and exits the room to scoop his keys from the kitchen counter. Nanami hasn’t left his mind even for a second. Satoru’s attention is split as he’s multi-tasking on autopilot. How much he wants to feel Kento’s body against his own in a close embrace, inhaling his intoxicating scent and cologne, basking in his touch... The world stops on its axis whenever his gaze meets Nanami’s, like the moment is theirs now. The environment is a blur, the sky sending heaven-bound skyways to cast their light above them. Soon… His fingers envelope around a bouquet of beautiful red roses as he carefully takes them out of a vase. Lastly, he steps into his newly polished Oxfords, getting ready to exit the apartment building.

Making way into the garage, with the press of a button the headlights of one of his exorbitant cars flickers to indicate it was unlocked. He sits inside the driver’s seat and places the seatbelt on before starting the car. Within minutes he’s on the road, on his way to pick up Nanami. The luminous panorama of the city comes into view through the car window, the lights reflecting in the lenses of Gojo’s glasses. The motor is in splendid electric silence, the vehicle moving smoothly as though it glides on water. Eventually, he reaches his destination and rings up Nanami to let him know he’s waiting outside.

His heartbeat maintains a relaxed rhythm until the sight of Nanami emerges, and then its tempo increases, and his brain becomes flooded with serotonin. His smile then is one of growing joy akin to a flower blooming in a spring garden. It comes from deep inside to further brighten his cerulean eyes. He unbuckles his seatbelt, reaches for the bouquet, and gets out of the car to greet Nanami. As he’d imagined earlier, he throws his arms in a loop around his beloved’s form. His lips gently flutter against Nanami’s cheek. He makes sure that they don’t accidentally squish the roses by holding them outwards in his hand. He steps back afterward to gift Kento the bouquet.

Nanami’s words only make the smile on his shell-pink grow into a sheepish little grin. His cheeks are kissed in pale pink.

“ Haha, you’re so cheesy, Kento. And I love you for it. ” He softly interlocks their hands together before bringing Nanami’s up to plant a chaste kiss on the knuckles.

#ⲧⲏⲉ ⳽ⲧⲅⲟⲛⳋⲉ⳽ⲧ ғⳕⲅⲉ⳽ ⲃⳙⲅⲛ ⲃⳑⳙⲉ | ic |#( answered asks. )#cowboynanami

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ts3lightclan · 10 months

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(1.21) The First Snow

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

It was Lilacdream who first felt the flicker of ice on her pelt, having been in the middle of a grooming session when she noticed the drifting snow above. She looked up at it, purring softly. While she had certainly seen snow, there was a new magic about it. Now, there were more cats to enjoy the serene atmosphere with.

The kits were the second, third, and fourth cats to notice, respectively. Lilacdream watched from afar as Antkit, Birchkit, and Mousekit began excitedly pouncing at snowflakes, giggling amongst themselves and roughhousing.

Honeypurr's litter was so rambunctious, even, that they almost crashed right into Stormflower as she passed. The spotted healer didn't seem to notice nor care, ignoring the altercation like she had already gotten used to this sort of thing. How many leaf-bare seasons had Stormflower seen, Lilacdream wondered? She and Pepperfrost were still rather young, so she knew that Stormflower had been around a lot longer than them. Perhaps the healer had just been around so many kits frolicking in the past that she'd expected this? She'd even wandered off into her nest to take a nap...

As the snow began to stick to the forest floor, the kits only grew more eager to play and run around. It was good that they were so excited, pouncing and dancing amongst each other like this. They would be apprentices soon, according to Lightrunner. Soon, their prancing and playing would be gradually replaced with patrols and hunting. Lilacdream hoped they would enjoy these final days of freedom while they still had the chance They were kits, after all.

...Just watching made Lilacdream resist the urge to stick out her tongue and catch a few snowflakes...

┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛

The first snow has fallen. The clan is celebrating by prancing about in the fresh blanket of white.

Pepperfrost teaches Magicpaw some snowy battle techniques.

Honeypurr and Lightrunner chat about the weather in passing.

Honeypurr watches her kits playing from afar, proud of their growth.

#lightclan!lilacdream #lightclan!mousekit #lightclan!birchkit #lightclan!antkit #lightclan!stormflower #lightclan!pepperfrost #lightclan!magicpaw #lightclan!lightrunner #lightclan!honeypurr

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imaginefodlan · 2 years

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One day there are a snow tempest at the monastery (pre-timeskip) and the lions are super happy, the cold has no effect on them. They play like happy cubs (puppies) in the snow, like if a snowball fight was SUPER SERIOUS. Mercedès is like "haha it's a little fresh today". Meanwhile Claude screams in agony "there are snow until my belly" and fall dramatically in Lorenz and Hilda arms. "I'm sick, friends, save me"

I have, once again, two years later, arisen from the grave to write more FE3H content. 😅

I can picture Dimitri, Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix having the most intense snowball fight in the snow, decked out to the nines in their winter furs and thickest fortified leather boots. You can see their fingers turning red from the frosty chill of the snow, bright red to match the warmth in their cheeks as the cold wind brushes against them. Ingrid and Dimitri against Sylvain and Felix, they spend hours in the snow until they're so exhausted they can't help but collapse and make snow angels for a while, just to give their bodies more of a break while still keeping their limbs warm.

Dedue has to be goaded into joining the snowball fight. It takes Dimitri practically dragging him into the fray, and Sylvain pegging him right in the face with a snowball, to get him to join the game and take part in the action instead of observing closely from the wayside. But once he's in, he makes sure to get his vengeance against Sylvain with a well-placed snowball to the chest, which knocks him back with enough force for Dimitri and Ingrid to take advantage and begin tactically pelting him with snowballs. At one point, even Felix joins in, slinging a snowball right for Sylvain's head. For a moment, the teams are forgotten and it becomes an entire free-for-all, everyone aiming for everyone, a blur of excitement and competitive energy.

Annette, Ashe, and Mercie have slightly lower tolerances to the cold, but they still enjoy the brisk chill in the air as they settle around a bonfire and exchange their favorite stories about growing up in this sort of weather in the Kingdom. Ashe tells stories about playing with his younger siblings in the snow, long before their parents' deaths, and of, later in life, settling in around the fireplace in Lord Lonato's home to read fairy tales. Mercie talks about her very first winter in Faerghus, how shocked she was at how chilly it got there, and how quickly she became used to it and even came to enjoy the freshness of the wintertime. Annette chatters about how long it took her to get used to the frigid winters, and how much easier it became to appreciate the weather in her homeland when she began her magical studies and learned to channel warmth throughout her body despite the cold.

Now, Claude on the other hand... he's freezing his ass off, dammit! The winter is not his friend at all! He'd much prefer the blazing summer heat to all this frozen water piling up to his chest. He just doesn't really get what the big deal is, what has the Blue Lions so captivated with frolicking and playing in the snow. Sure, tactical games are great, and in theory, snowball fights should be right up his alley because of it, but he just can't wrap his head around why they have to do war games in the dead of winter, when the snow is nearly as tall as Lysithea!

"I'm dying! I've got hypothermia, I'm sure of it! Leave me, my friends! I will surely perish in this weather! My dying wish is but for this dreadful blizzard to end peacefully, and soon!" Claude half-jokes dramatically, falling back against Hilda and Lorenz as if he were fainting, much to their surprise. Claude obviously loves his antics, but this is almost on a whole different level of drama, even for him.

Lorenz and Hilda are rolling their eyes all the while, half in amusement and half in annoyance. "I'm sure you'll be just fine, Claude. But remember, if you are to perish, you leave the leadership of the Alliance to me." Lorenz teases as Hilda pushes Claude back onto his feet.

"And don't forget," Hilda adds with a sly grin, "You still owe me for putting in the extra effort in last month's mission, so you can't go dying on me yet!"

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londonskies · 3 years

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Uno Reverse Card

In which the first official snow day has come and you realize just how adorkable your boyfriend is.

The weather had steadily been getting colder the last few days, a light sprinkle of snow here and there, but nothing major. But today, the day had finally come: the first snow day.

You woke up excited, seeing the amount of snow that had settled from you and Corpse’s bedroom window. Quickly suiting up to go play in the snow like a child before he could even realize what you were doing.

Your boyfriend however, was not particularly fond of the cold, especially at this rate. The cold made his joints ache even more than they already usually did, so while you frolicked in the snow like a hyperactive child at 8 am, he was content with watching you through the living room window in his cozy sweater, sitting right in front of the blazing fire that warmed him through.

Now, you could have gone to the backyard where people couldn’t see you (and therefore could not judge you) so you could roll around the snow in peace. However, you started to take care of plants earlier that year and Corpse, the amazing boyfriend that he is, had a greenhouse built so that you and your plants could survive the winter.

So there he found you, making snow angels on the front lawn, two hours later.

Your lips were chapped and just about your entire face was red because of the cold, and yet you still had a bright smile on your face and if that wasn’t enough, the constant stream of giggles spilling out from your lips was witness to how much fun you were having, despite having people stop and stare from the sidewalk every ten minutes.

Corpse would have let you have your fun for much longer, but knowing you, you would probably get a really bad cold soon if he doesn’t lure you back into the warmth of the house ASAP.

From your vantage point, the only thing you saw was a mess of curls, peeking out through the smallest possible opening of the front door, a deep voice yelling out. “I HAVE A CUP OF HOT CHOCOLATE! GET YOUR CUTE ASS IN HERE!” and then the door slammed close.

Another giggle spilled from your now chapped lips. Knowing Corpse, he was probably moving towards warmth the second he moved to close the door, and if he did, he would now be looking through the gap in the blinds from the fireplace. And what do you know? A glance at the window let you see him doing just that, only he wasn’t just looking, the man was glaring.

What could you have do- OH!

You snorted and grabbed a handful of snow, chucking it towards the window. It didn’t hit the window (it was too far and you didn’t exactly pack it into a snowball) but it gave the message across.

Stop glaring at the poor snow Corpsey!

The message back was clear too.

No.

Corpse had crossed his arms across his chest and turned away from the window. You were willing to bet your dominant arm that there was probably a pout on his face at the moment too.

Not wanting to give him grief any longer, you stood and brushed the snow off your person, moving to the front door. But when you stepped onto the driveway, you didn’t see that the garden hose had turned on somehow, spilling water onto the concrete that froze over into a thin sheet of ice.

And you slipped on it, falling onto your back with a loud, Y/n sized thump,

For a second, you felt disoriented. Damn that hurt! But then, a curly haired, black clad, violently shivering figure peeked down at you.

Mind you, violently shivering was not an understatement.

It seemed as if even his curls were shivering, as extreme as his shivering was. He was basically shivering from head to toe, teeth and all.

Before he could even ask you if you were okay, you were already sitting up and putting mitten covered hands on his cheeks, a frantic quest to warm him up immediately filling you. “Are you okay???” you said almost hysterically. If there was one thing you didn’t want to happen, it was Corpse not feeling well, no matter how mild it was.

For a few moments, Corpse let you cluck at him like a mother hen, enjoying the warm contrast of your hands to the wind that blew around the both of you.

And then you had to open your mouth again. “Are you alright?” you said.

All of a sudden, he caught you off guard by slapping something onto your forehead and then basically sprinting his way back in the house.

What the heck?

You blinked in bewilderment. I mean, you knew that he was a bit ….. eccentric sometimes, but this forehead slapping thing was new.

Reaching up, you realized that there was something stuck to your forehead. What the-

An uno card?

You turned it around

An uno reverse card?

What the actual heck??

Like seriously, what is going through hi-

You thought back to your last question: “Are you alright??”

“DID YOU JUST REVERSE CARD ME IN REAL LIFE??”

“YES!”

Oh My Gosh. This dork!

“CORPSE HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN HOLDING ONTO THIS CARD, YOU DORK?!?!”

“TOO LONG!”

#corpse husband #corpse_husband #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #snow day #dork #uno reverse card #in real life #imagine #drabble

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1ddiscourseoftheday · 3 years

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💌Thurs 3 Dec ‘20🌤

More Harry content today-- another Golden video!! The behind the scenes video, set to the song, features some of the bits we saw that they were filming but that weren't used like the boat scenes and the purple pajama outfit and the big flowery hat, plus a pebbles and bambam shirt and lots of water, Harry is smiley and giggly and relaxed and having fun in the sun. I'm cold and at home and wildly jealous, but also warmed by the treat of getting to see unguarded happy Harry, frolicking with his tits out in the beautiful sunshine looking young and carefree. And that's not all- more pictures from the DWD set, Harry and two others in all red outifts, more pics from the Variety shoot, an adorable screen grab from the interview (Harry on zoom), and we discovered what was custom about the Palomo Spain outfit seen in the banana photo- can you guess? Yes, it was originally a tan linen looking thing but was remade for him to be That Shade of Blue! And another article from the Variety, this one about Harry and the 'lost art of song sequencing' and how much thought and care went into the organizing of Fine Line. They have quotes from Harry and from Kid Harpoon telling us that the first and last tracks were never in doubt, but working out how things would play out in between involved trying out “just under a hundred” different options. Harry says, “I care about the way that things run- how that makes me feel and the story that it tells.”

Liam did a the Letter to Your Ten Year Old Self segment for Radio1 (with video!) “Get ready,” it begins, “it's about to get a little bumpy... life is about to turn surreal.” He tells his younger self to hang on, that it's a marathon not a sprint, and talks about meeting Cheryl (yeah, the FIRST time: “when you turn 14 something magical is about to happen... you're about to meet the future mother of your child... I know it seems early but just trust me. I suggest you watch Back To The Future”), about fatherhood (“just look at all the things you've learnt along the way and surely that must mean you have a lot to give”) and about Maya, and after in talking about his letter mentions his recent conversations with Louis about band days. His cover of Let It Snow was added to his youtube, he shows up on Tik Tok with Abby Roberts, interrupting her WAP singalong to turn it into That's What WAP You Beautiful (That's WAP Makes you Beautiful was RIGHT THERE, I could sincerely cry, wtf) which I will leave to the intern to describe: “it's the whitest thing I've EVER seen” she texted me this morning, LMAO. And how was morning with our Roman and Liam alarm today? “It's day threeee” says Roman “we need to get christmas started” (DO WE guys IT'S THE THIRD) and interviews Liam about favorite xmas movies. Liam says Elf and Muppet Christmas Carol (yessss), and then he invites us to tell us our faves in a hashtag?? It's an alarm, it's an interview, we're starting trends, what is going on here. The sleep story is still 'coming soon,' you guyyyys hurry up please I need these soothing affirmations to balance out the morning 'get up and go christmas shopping' pressure!

And someone who says their friend knows Louis' massage therapist (have we checked to see if he wrote them a nice review on their website?) says that Louis' skin is very soft, and “WHY IS EVERYONE SO SURPRISED?” and Sam Fender says about us, “they’re so excitable, the Tomlinators, I think they just smack keyboards!” and “they’re crackers but they seem like a lovely bunch.” He's not wrong... well he is about what to call us but not about the other things.

#harry styles #liam payne #Louis Tomlinson #I do not hear Sunflower in the BTS video. The intern says she can make out two notes that could be it #in the background of a random part of the video... overall I gotta say-- I don't think you guys #would love to be wrong but like I don't think they'd tease something quite THAT subtlely #did the intern intend that take for the public well perhaps not but lollll #harry #liam #louis #abby roberts #sam fender #roman kemp #chiam #laya #bear payne #thats what makes WAP beautful would also be good but maybe thats a little too racy for tiktok

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vibraniumwing · 4 years

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better with you.

a neville longbottom x reader wherein you’ve never really felt like yourself until you met this shy, dorky boy who was fond of herbology

WARNING: none, just pure fluff. a bit of a slow burn too uwu

A/N: used she/her pronouns for this one. this is the first story i’m writing for the hp fandom, please be nice o n o

---

You were currently situated in the library, finishing a book you’ve recently found an interest in. Your fingers playing with the edge of the page as your temple was situated by your palm, the ambiance of the library bringing you solace; hushed conversations, page turning and the sound of someone’s quills on the surface of the parchment. It was all so calming.

“Oh look, it’s snowing!” you heard someone call out, causing you to look to your side to see that it was indeed, snowing. Now resting your chin on your palm, your attention shifted to the small snowflakes accumulating by the window, watching it form a small pile.

The coldness of the weather reminded you of yourself. You were infamous for being the Ice Princess of Hufflepuff, the ethereal beauty blessed by the gods yet a heart of stone. You were cold, distant and by all means, someone who wasn’t very sociable. So you being sorted in Hufflepuff was a true mystery to everyone.

Some say you should’ve been sorted into Slytherin.

A deep sigh resonated from your chest as you stood up, throwing on the dark coat that was resting on the seat next to you and grabbing your book, hugging it close to your chest.

Eyes were glued on you as you walked by, the hushed whispers now seemingly louder as you grew conscious due to the unsolicited attention you’re currently receiving.

You never wanted to be like this; raised in a strict pure-blooded family, molding you to become who you are as of the current. As the exact words of your mother, “You are a L/N. Take pride in that, see no one and talk to no one. You are to show no emotion at all.” It was a rough childhood. You were never allowed to go outside—not even to where your parents are going— and you were never exposed to affection from your mother and father, the closest thing you’ll get to that term was a simple head pat. That alone was another rare thing.

You were well-aware that you were never like this. Not even in the closest; the fear of disappointing them however, stood greater than anything else that mattered to you. So you had to accept that lifestyle, there was no other way.

The rest of the day flew by as normal, soon enough it was already dark out. You found yourself roaming around the halls, the patter of your shoes resounding in the halls. This was your daily ritual after dinner, to calm yourself before retreating to your house’s common room.

Just about to return, you heard a few laughs coming from the other end of the corner, your mind immediately protesting that you pay no attention and best be on your way— your gut on the other hand, pushed you to look at the commotion. Your legs started moving to their direction.

As you approached, you discovered that is was Malfoy and his two lapdogs meddling with what seems to be a Gryffindor student.

“What was his name again?” You mumbled to yourself, hiding against the corner just a few steps away from them. Mind raking to remember where you have heard his name, recalling the sudden memory of him fainting during your second year. Your eyes widen at the recollection and approached them with a feeling that you were not used to.

“Leave him alone, Malfoy.” You spoke up, your heartbeat’s pace starting to pick up as he turns around to look at you. Cocking an eyebrow at your direction, a scoff soon followed. “L/N? The infamous ice princess? Standing up for this little weasel?” his voice dripping with sarcasm.

The usage of the nickname caused you to roll your eyes, shaking your head once as you approached the poor boy, shoving them lightly as you stood in front of him protectively. You look back at them, crossing your arm as you looked up at them, now realizing that they tower over you. “Leave Longbottom alone, Draco.” You warned him once more, your eyes locking with his.

“Or what? Your little boyfriend’s a coward as it is!” He taunted even more, his signature smirk dawning his lips, eyeing the male behind you up and down. “Pathetic little thing can’t man up.”

“Oh please Malfoy, You’ll never be half the man that he is. Meddling in and messing up with people to make yourself feel accomplished in the eyes of your father. And you two—” pausing and looking at Crabbe and Goyle, with a disgusted look on your face. “can’t be anymore stupid by following this little leader of yours, I reckon. You three are a bunch of low-lives anyways.” You spat out, venom dripping from your voice; turning around, you offered your hand to the boy and pulled him off the ground.

Looking at them again, you retorted one last time.��“If I ever catch you or even just hear about you messing with Longbottom again, I won’t hold myself back.” and pulled the Gryffindor along with you, leaving the three stunned at your words.

The both of you walked in silence, catching the eye of a few students who seemed to notice that your hand was still linked with his.

You stopped by the hallway near the Great Hall and looked back at your companion. “Are you all good...” You questioned, now realizing that you didn’t even know his first name. “...I-it’s Neville. And y-yes, i’m all good.” he spoke in a hushed tone, eyes looking downwards.

Only then did you realize you were still holding on to his hand. You immediately let go and a light shade of pink dusted your cheeks, coughing lightly to cover up your flustered state. “That’s good to hear. I’ll see you around.” You courtly say, turning around to walk away, heading over to the Grand Staircase to head off to your Common Room.

Leaving a rather surprised Neville all by himself.

---

“Are you sure that’s L/N you’re talking about, Nev?” Seamus asked from his bed, looking at his friend with a rather surprised expression. “Like the Ice Princess of Hufflepuff L/N?” Dean jumped into the conversation, the topic interesting him as well.

Neville was sure of what he saw, Merlin if he wasn’t so shocked he would’ve ran after her the moment she let him go. “Of course I am! I saw it with my own eyes, she even held my hand!” He answered, looking at the two, exasperated. Never in his life was he so sure of anything else.

“I have to agree with the two on this one. It just doesn’t sound like her, Neville.” Ron soon spoke up, looking at him as he munched on his candies.

Feeling defeated, he flopped back down on his bed and sighed. “I-I’ll prove it to you guys. I swear it was Y/N.” He retorted, opting not to argue with his dorm-mates anymore.

‘I swear I’ll show them that Y/N is more than what she shows.’

---

All of the students were down Hogsmeade, students frolicking around the village to drink some Butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks or just be out and about from the castle.

You rarely go with them, not wanting to socialize as it drains you more than anything else. This day was an exception though, as you were there to refill on parchment and ink since you’ve been running low on supply.

Your day flowed as normal as any other— with the exception that you had felt more people stare at you; not that you weren’t used to it or anything, something just felt off with the way they stare. As if the gossip had something else in it rather than the usual thing of “why is she in Hufflepuff.”

Walking along the snowy pavement of the place was rather peaceful for you, eyes wandering about on your schoolmates who were blabbering about their day and sharing their excitement to be away from the school. You’ve always longed for an interaction like that with your peers, but you tend to shy away and rather maintain the reputation they’ve crowned upon you.

Almost at the shop, a hand was placed on your shoulder making you jump slightly, causing you to slip against the icy, slippery surface. You shut your eyes as you prepared for the impact until you felt a warm breath fan out against your skin, a subtle scent of mint tickling your nose.

You open your eyes to meet a pair of beautiful brown eyes, your breath hitching at the sight. Your eye contact remained with the person until a sudden cough made it’s way out of you, only realizing that you’ve been holding your breath.

The both of you straightened up, now taking a better look at the person who saved your bottom from the rather cold pathway; cheeks suddenly flushed once recognizing who it was. “Neville?”

He was quiet, his whole face as the same color of his house, eyes still locked with yours.

Bringing up a hand, you waved it against his face gently to pull him out of his trance, to which he did. “O-oh. H-hello again, Y/N.” the boy greeted, showing you a rather shy smile.

You nodded at him once, unsure of how to react now that he was back to speaking. “I s-saw you walk alone around here... I was wondering if-” His voice suddenly getting really soft by the end of his sentence causing you to raise an eyebrow at him. “You have to speak louder, Longbottom. I’m not blessed with super hearing.” You told him, feeling the corner of your lips twinge up at the sight of him.

Neville cursed under his breath at his shyness, mentally cursing at how pathetic it was that he couldn’t speak in front of you.

Something stirred inside you again though, the same protective feeling washing over at the sight of him contemplating. “You can tell me. If it’s Malfoy bothering you again, tell me where he is. I’ve got a few hexes ready for him and his ugly warts of sidekicks.” You started off, crossing your arms.

The latter immediately shook his head (as much as he would love to see Draco get a piece of his own medicine, he doesn’t want you in harms way.)

“I-I w-was wondering if y-you’d like some company while you’re here.” He finally spat out, causing you to look at him in surprise. No one ever asked to go with you, so this was a definite first for you. Neville’s lips curved to a slight frown at the prolonged silence, thinking that your silence was rejection.

“A-alright, I’ll t-take that as a no. I-I’ll see you around, Y/N...” he mumbled, tone dripping of dejection. That’s when you snapped out of your trance, holding onto his wrist. “H-hey, I’d actually love to be in your company.” You told him, squeezing it gently.

He turned to look at you with a surprised look, eyes wide with his jaw slacked a bit that you actually accepted his offer. To which you answered with a very soft laugh, lips curved into a smile at how adorable he was. “You better close your mouth, love. You’ll be eating the snow like that.” You remarked, bringing your other hand up to close his jaw.

His eyes were trained on you, just now noticing the tinge of pink that dawned on your cheeks and how red your nose was from the cold, to which he found adorable. Flashing you a toothy grin, he straightened himself up and wiggled free from your grasp, his larger hands now engulfing your own.

Your quietly watched him, unable to find any remarks now he has seemingly stepped out of his shell. Stunned at how he took the initiative to hold your hand in the process. “Do you fancy some butterbeer perhaps? After you pick up what you need?” He asked, looking at you with a smile, his cheeks flushed immensely.

“S-sounds good to me, Nev.”

---

After that moment in Hogsmeade, you’ve been hanging out more with Neville, You’ve shown more emotion in the short span you’ve met him than your stay in Hogwarts, making everyone re-think of that title of yours.

You felt like yourself, you felt free with him around. It was the best feeling you’ve ever had.

It was a pleasant surprise for everyone when you suddenly appeared in the Great Hall with your hair free and not in the usual bun they’ve grown accustomed to.

While walking to your house’s table, you made eye contact with Neville, flashing him a bright smile, leaving the boy shy and his friends hitting him and calling him out on what he actually did with you.

“Blimey Neville, she seems better with you than how she ever did before.” Seamus called out, giving his friend a noogie in the process.

You rolled our eyes at the remark, a smile remaining on your lips as you reach your table.

Everything was going well when one of the people in your house asked, “Hey Y/N isn’t that your owl?” causing you to look up that your owl, indeed was flying towards you with a certain black envelope you know too well. The bird landed in front of you, letting go of the parchment and stares up at you.

You forced a smile, despite your heart dropping at the knowledge of what’s inside the letter; to which a certain boy noticed from afar. “Hello there, Peanut. Got a letter for me?” the barred owl blinked at you, as if he knew what was to come.

With a shaky hand, you opened the envelope and pulled the letter out. Your mother’s familiar handwriting greeting your vision as you read the letter.

Tears brimmed your eyes as you scrunched the letter up in your hands. You raced out of the hall, causing a few people to look your way as you bumped into people, vision blurred.

Neville saw all of it happen, how your expression went from happy to the most heartbreaking one he’s seen on anyone. He didn’t waste anymore time and chased after you, knowing exactly where to find you.

You were slumped by the furthest nook of the library as you were silently sobbing, thanking whatever higher power there is that there isn’t anyone around to see you at such a miserable state. However, you did hear the chair beside you move, causing you to look at the cause of the noise to see Neville.

“Now isn’t a good time to suggest Herbology books, Nev.” You humored, wiping your tears as you sent a tight-lipped smile his way. His heart was torn into pieces at the sight of you so shattered, he knew about your situation with your family and how you were forced to be someone you weren’t.

He shook his head, his hand reaching for your own and ran his thumb across your knuckles; the boy knew how much you love when he does that. Visibly, you relaxed and leaned into him. You rested your head on his shoulder and sobbed quietly, tears staining his shirt.

His arm protectively curled around your frame, cradling you as you just sobbed, quietly listening to the whispers of how you hated the fact that you were still so fearful of your parents— how you were still controlled by them.

You pulled away from his embrace, your eyes puffy from the crying. “N-Nev, I’m so-”

“Before you even finish that sentence, don’t. You don’t have to apologize for anything, love.” He crooned, bringing his hand to wipe your tears away. Loving the way how you leaned into his touch.

“It’s alright to be afraid, you know? You’re still a human, darling. Sometimes, people get tired of keeping up with something they know they’re not and it’s okay to be like that.” Neville whispered, tone laced with tenderness as he spoke. Your eyes were locked with his brown ones and all you saw was sincerity in every word he spoke.

“You can still be yourself, love. Be someone that you love, not someone to please other people. There’s a reason why you’re in Hufflepuff and not in any other house. You know that deep down inside of you and I’ve seen that first hand.” He continued, smiling fondly at the memories you;ve managed to create with him. How you slowly stepped out of your cold figure and show who you really are.

“You tend to put people before yourself like how you stood up for me that night with Malfoy, like how you are with your parents. That’s what I love about you.” He confessed, making you look at him with surprised eyes.

It was the first time you’ve ever heard someone say that— it felt good. Warmth spread through your body as you stared at him and you saw it. The adoration he has for you and right there, you know that wasn’t lying.

“I-I’m sorry, that d-didn’t mean to sl-” “I love you too.” You cut him off, now finding the words you’ve wanted to tell him for the longest time. “I hope you don’t change the way how you lo- wait what?” He was continuing to ramble on until what you said had processed in him. “Y-You do?”

“Yes, I do.” You nodded once, now resting your forehead with his as you laughed softly. “Thank you, Neville. For staying with me and believing that I’m more than what others see.” You spoke gently, feeling his warm breath against your lips, the familiar scent of mint wafting through your nose.

“You’ve done the same for me, love.” He responsed, now holding your face with his hands gently, afraid to hurt you even the slightest.

You saw how his eyes flicker for just a split second to your lips, to which you took the change to pull his tie to press a gentle kiss on his lips. His eyes were wide, feeling your plush ones against his; until he too melted, and gave in.

The both of you pulled away, breathless. You broke out into a quiet laugh, hugging him in the process, to which he gladly reciprocated.

“Everything’s better with you, Nev.” You whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek as you smiled. He mirrored your smile, pulling away to hold your hand and presses a peck to your forehead.

“I intend to keep it that way forever.”

And that’s when you knew that everything would be okay, as long as he’s there with you.

#neville longbottom #neville #neville longbottom x reader #neville x reader #neville longbottom fluff #neville longbottom imagine #neville imagine #neville fluff #neville x y/n #neville longbottom x y/n #harry potter #harry potter imagine #i hope you like this

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a-distantdreamer · 3 years

Text

Snow Day - A Chris Evans Drabble

Thank you for the super fluffy request Anon. I hope you enjoy. Requests are open!

Dedicated to @leclerc-stan - happy birthday lovely!

Snow Day

In a flurry of shouts and boots hitting the wooden floor, three little figures bundled into the kitchen, making a beeline toward the snowy wonderland of their backyard.

Just as Brady, the eldest of the three, went to fling the back door wide open, a voice stopped them in their tracks.

“Uh-uh! Hold up!” Nora stepped round from the side of the kitchen island, setting her hand on her hip, “mitten check!”

Brady and Finn held up their hands, palms open, to show off their gloves. 3 year old Joey looked over at his big brothers and quickly followed, giving his mother a big beaming smile that made her giggle. It was the first time he would be able to go out and play in the snow properly with his big brothers.

For a moment, Nora pretended to inspect their attire closely, although she knew Chris had been in charge of getting them ready. There was no way he would risk them getting too cold.

Brady laughed, not even able to take his sweet Mama seriously as she peered at each of their hands in turn.

Finally, Nora’s serious demeanour melted, and a smile spread across her face.

“Alright, my little polar bears. You’re all set,” Nora confirmed, crouching in front of Joey to zip up his thick winter coat.

She pressed a kiss to his little button nose and tugged his hat down to cover the tops of his ears.

Finn began bouncing at his brother’s side, his nose pressed to the frosty glass of the patio doors, “Can we go now, Mama?!”

Brady shook his head, “We can’t go out without Dad, Finn.”

“Or Gracie!” Chris exclaimed, walking into the room.

He had their youngest child, 18-month-old Grace, perched on his hip. It looked a little awkward due to the number of layers they both wore.

Amongst the padding and furry lining of her pale pink snowsuit, only her little rounded face was visible, cheeks rosy and framed by her brunette curls. Chris set Grace down on the tiled floor, taking the opportunity to pull his own gloves over his hands. Sweetly, she stayed at his side, peering up at him inquisitively.

“Doggy?” she queried, pointing over at Dodger.

The elderly dog lifted his head to look from where he lay in front of the fireplace. His fluffy tail began wagging at the sight of the children all bundled up, but he soon lay his head back down.

“I think Dodger is gonna stay in and keep warm with Mama this time baby,” Chris explained, scooping Grace up to settle on his hip.Dodger had experienced so many Winters of frolicking in the snow with their little boys that Chris knew he deserved the rest. Plus his hips and knees just wouldn’t be able to handle the cold anymore.

Nora stepped forward to tug Grace’s mittens over her tiny hands, giving the baby an excited smile, “you’re going to have so much fun in the snow with Daddy and your brothers!”

Grace clapped her mittened hands excitedly before reaching up to place her hands on Chris’ beard, “out Dada! Out!”

Chris laughed and leant down to give Nora a kiss, “okay, okay, princess. You’re impatient just like your Mama!”

Nora gasped and landed a playful smack to his jean-covered ass, an impish smirk spreading across her face as he jumped and looked round at her.

“I’ll get you back for that,” he promised, narrowing his eyes playfully.

With a giggle, Nora bit her lower lip coquettishly. Their flirty exchange was interrupted by a blast of icy air coming into the kitchen.

The boys hurried outside with a yell, and Grace began wiggling in her Daddy’s arms to follow them. Chris gave Nora a wink, before he walked out of the door with Grace in his arms, squealing with excitement.

The crisp air hit his face immediately, wiping away any residual warmth in his body from the house. Their breaths bloomed in front of their faces, wispy and quick to drift away.The crunch of Chris’ boots in the snow caught Grace’s attention, and she wiggled a little more.

In the distance, her brothers had already raced further out onto the lawn, packing snowballs into little piles and rolling around in the snow.

“Wanna walk in the snow, princess?” Chris asked.Grace wiggled in reply, and Chris leant over to set her down. The snow reached her mid-shins, and her little snow boots crunched as she sank down into it. She giggled and covered her open mouth with her tiny hands.

“Big steps, okay baby?” Chris asked, reaching down to take hold of Grace’s hand.

The toddler was resistant at first, being as stubborn as her Mama, but she soon realised she wouldn’t get any closer to her brothers without her Daddy’s help.

Brady stopped rolling snowballs and looked back for his Dad, realising that he wasn’t there with them yet. He let out a soft chuckle when he spotted Chris and Grace slowly making their way through the snow towards them.

His baby sister was taking slow and deliberate steps, focusing on getting to them.

“Brudders!” Grace called as loud as she could, her sweet voice carrying on the wind.

Brady waved back at her, until he was smacked in the side of the head by something solid and freezing cold.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, turning his head.

A few feet away Finn and Joey were sniggering, their gloves covered in a dusting of snow. Brady laughed and crouched down, grabbing a ball from the pile. Finn and Joey laughed and shouted in anticipation, trying to run away from Brady.

“Brudders!” Grace called again, seeing them begin to run further down the yard, “Back!”

“It’s okay, baby,” Chris cooed, seeing her begin to get frustrated as they got even further away, “We’ll get there.”

Grace stopped in her tracks, dropped Chris’ hand and began to wail, tipping her head back as big tears ran down her rosy cheeks and nose. Tiny snowflakes clung to her impossibly long, dark eyelashes.

Chris crouched beside her, wrapping a strong arm around her waist, “hey, princess. Hey. It’s okay, baby.”

He scooped her up, standing to his full height, “it’s okay. Shhhh.”

Grace continued to cry, absolutely heartbroken. She buried her face into the crook of her Daddy’s neck, wetting his skin with her warm tears, “wan’ play brudders.”

Chris’ heart ached, “you want your brothers, huh? Shall Daddy call them over to play here for a while?”

Grace sniffled and lifted her head. The sight of her big blue eyes swimming with tears was enough to break Chris’ heart. That little girl had him completely wrapped around her little finger.

“Yes peas, Dada,” she whimpered, still snuffling through her tears.

Chris kissed her little nose, “no more crying, okay. Daddy’s got you.”

Grace nodded and snuggled back into him as Chris called out across the yard for the boys. They quickly hurried back over, coats covered in snow from their furious snowball battle.

“Your little sister really wants to play with you guys. Do you think you could build a snowman here with her?” Chris asked, crouching down in front of Brady, Finn and Joey.

Brady smiled at his little sister sadly, “Sorry for running away Gracie. You want to make a snowman?”

“I help!” Joey exclaimed, immediately reaching out for Grace’s hand.

Chris smiled and set her down, letting Joey clasp onto her tiny hand with his own. He took a few slow steps, leading Grace over to a deeper pile of snow a short distance away. Brady and Finn followed, encouraging Grace to put her hands into the snow. She giggled in delight, and Chris took a step back, soaking in the moment of watching his four babies playing together.

He jumped as a pair of slender arms wrapped around his middle, and a warm nose nuzzled into his back.

“Hey, you,” he rumbled, turning to bring Nora into his arms, “I thought you were staying inside.”

“I couldn’t miss this,” Nora replied, resting her head on Chris’ chest as she watched Brady hold onto Grace’s hands, helping her wade through the deep snow. Joey and Finn had started work on rolling the largest ball for the snowman’s body.

“Aren’t we lucky?” Nora whispered, watching Grace tip a tiny handful of snow on top of Brady’s head. The eldest scrunched his nose and laughed, reaching out to tickle his baby sister. She exploded into another flurry of giggles that echoed into the pale sky, making her siblings and parents smile.

Chris nodded his agreement, and Nora tilted her head back to stare up at him. He gave her a small smile, and leant down, pressing his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.

Nora gasped, pulling her face away from his, “Jesus, your nose is freezing!”

Chris laughed, and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her close to nuzzle his nose all over her face and neck. Nora screeched, trying to wiggle away from her husband desperately. As her hands grasped his face to push him away, Chris slanted his lips over hers again, causing her to practically melt against him.

“Mama! Dada!” Grace’s little voice broke them apart, and they glanced over at their baby girl.

She stood with her hands on her hips, and a hilariously cross expression on her pretty face. Once Grace had gained their attention, she lifted her little hand and wiggled it at them as they often did to her whenever she did something she shouldn’t.

“No, no, no!” she said firmly, pouting at her parents disapprovingly.

Chris and Nora looked at each other, then back at their kids, promptly bursting into raucous laughter.

#my writing #chris evans #chris evans drabble #request #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfic

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that-scouse-wizard · 2 years

Text

New Year’s Creatures

Surprise @nikyiscreepy! I was your secret santa for the server event! Sorry it took so long. Hope you enjoy!

31st of December, 1987

For many students of Hogwarts, Christmas and the subsequent lead up to the New Year was an exciting period. A time of celebration, a time to reflect on the events of the previous year, a time to celebrate with family...

Yet for Niky Dona it was a time for her to remain at the castle whilst most of her fellow students had gone home for the holidays. At least there had been a gift exchange with some of her friends at the end of term but Rowan and most of the others had since departed for celebrations over the holidays.

The snow had been coming down hard, blanketing the grounds in white. So few people about truly emphasised just how isolated the school was in the Scottish highlands. Not even the common room felt welcoming, the fire being seldom lit with so few people around only added to the unusually empty feeling, not that she particularly wanted to be close to flames.

The lack of classes, awful weather and few other students at the school left Niky with a lot of time on her hands. Even Lilith had gone quiet with so few things to occupy their time. Thus, Niky had taken to wandering the halls, finding spots in the castle she hadn’t yet explored, usually with Bianca the cat and Philip the spider not far behind. Bon-Bon the puffskein preferring to take a lazier approach perched on his owner’s shoulder.

There was however a benefit to having all this time on her hands with a sparsely populated castle grounds. A chance of remaining completely undisturbed with her creatures. This New Year’s Eve would be spent in the forest, the resident mooncalf herd was due to come out and if timed right, their signature dance would be done at the stroke of midnight.

The quiet combined with the soft snowfall making the woodland around her somewhat eerie yet being camped out with a hot flask of butterbeer, patiently waiting for when they would emerge from their den was relaxing in a strange way.

Though as the hours ticked on, the feeling of wanting to go back to the castle soon became more prevalent. The tent and sleeping bag she had acquired would keep her warm but it just wasn’t the same as sinking into the plushness of the dormitory beds. Starting a campfire was out of the question for her.

Then, a flash of movement, brief but enough to notice. A squat, sheep-like body and a long neck ending in a head with luminous blue eyes. There was no doubt, it was a mooncalf. One soon became two, the two became four until they were joined by nearly one-hundred mooncalfs.

She slowed her breathing, staying still so as not to startle them as they all took position in a circle. Moving as one, they jumped, twirling and twisting in a synchronised pattern. Occasionally taking a partner to dance with yet still pirouetting together in perfect harmony, hell even the snow they kicked up in their leaps seemed to mirror each other as they stuck the landing.

Watching them have fun, frolicking and whinnying playfully caused a warm feeling to rise in her chest, one hotter than any fire could provide. Perhaps this coming year wouldn’t be so bad.

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mydrug-is-dragonage · 3 years

Text

Dar Atishan, A Talk with Cole

“Wind and whispers, dreams and demons, ‘why don’t they ever want me enough to want me?’�� My ears perked up and I saw Cole walking towards me on the battlements. I glanced at him and returned, hunched over and brooding, watching the snow blow of the tops of mountains. “You’re hurt and hurting, all three of you wounded, worried, ‘was it the right decision?’”

I turn around and face him, smirking. “Do they have love in the Fade?”

“‘Hahren Morriel warned me, the shemlen are fickle, but the elf too?’ Wanting, wondering, ‘what else could I do?’” I sighed and patted the battlements. I pushed myself up with my hands and he joined me, legs dangling over the edge. “You’re sad.”

“I am.”

“They think it was the right decision.”

“I know.”

“But they’re sad, too. Brooding, breaking, ‘Bull said it’d help me with the ladies, but it’d break her.’” He looked towards the barn. I sighed and looked up towards the sky, clear and full of stars. “Dust, danger, delightful, distraction, ‘if she’s real, what if they’re all real, too?’”

I shake my head. “Cole, stop.”

“I want to help,” he says. He looks up, his shaggy hair nearly hiding his big eyes. I put a hand on his knee.

“I don’t think you get to help,” I said.

“Why?” He asks, his voice full of genuine curiosity.

“Can I tell you a story?”

“Sixteen, sweating, ‘Will we make it?’”

“Yes, that story. Stay out of my head, let me tell you, not show you.” He nods and puts his hand in his lap. “When I was sixteen, my vallaslin fresh, my sword sharpened, I went on a hunt with a boy.”

“Tallen.”

“Yes, Tallen. Tallen was a few years older than me, an accomplished hunter. We’d been out in the forest for a few days. He was certain he’d found some clues that would lead to some ancient artifact, something Keeper Istimaethoriel could make use of. Remind of us of the old ways.” I looked towards Cole, his gaze stuck on the lines arching across my face. “So we looked. We looked and looked and looked. Days passed, and we couldn’t seem to find whatever his sources had led him to.”

“Boredom, bothered, ‘This is worse than when the aravel breaks,’” he said. “Sorry. I’ll try to stay outside.”

“Thank you, Cole. Yes, I was bored and angry. I’d only agreed to come along because of Tallen. None of the other hunters thought it was worth our time. The Keeper wasn’t especially keen. But Tallen,” I said. I trailed off, taken back to the forest, a girl with fresh ink, so sure of what I’d chosen, Elgarnan’s markings across my face.

“But Tallen?”

“Right, but Tallen wanted to go, and I wanted to help, and I wanted to spend time with him, alone,” I said. I looked at Cole and raised an eyebrow. His face stayed as placid as ever. “So we wandered. We looked. We found nothing. One night, deep in the forest, we found a cave to sleep in. We’d build a small fire, roasted a bird we’d killed. We sat, quietly listening to the forest.” I looked up at the sky again, constellations dancing around. I heard the Hahren speaking about the legends, the Elven gods, the Dread Wolf.

“As we finished dinner, I heard stirring from the back of the cave. I didn’t have time to fully put on my armor, but I grabbed my chest plate and my blade, I got Tallen’s attention and pointed towards the darkness beyond us. He grabbed his bow, and started to draw an arrow. Before he could get a good shot lined up, darkspawn came running towards us,” I said. Cole closed his eyes. “I’d never seen one up close. I’d heard stories growing up, of course. We’d avoided the Blight, but everyone knew of them, their corruption. I got a few good swings, killed one right away. Tallen had time to back up, start taking shots at different ones as they approached me.”

“You were afraid,” he said.

“I was. I was so young, this was my first real mission.”

“You lived.”

“Or maybe I’m a spirit, too, drawn to the dying elf.”

“Jokes and jaunting, ‘laughter makes it easier,’” he said.

“Does it bother you?”

“No, you still like me. You see me all the time,” he said.

“I thought that was your decision.”

“I did, too. Go on. I like the way your voice carries the past,” he said.

“The darkspawn kept coming and coming. Soon enough I realized they were too many to fight, the two of us. Tallen called out to me, I gave him a clear shot and we ran from the cave. We ran and ran and ran until our legs were going to give out. The darkspawn never let up.. We reached a cliff. The darkspawn were maybe four hundred feet away, running towards us as they had, corrupting everything in their path. Tallen looked over the edge, then back at me. He grabbed my face and kissed me.”

“First, frolicking, filthy, ‘I’d hoped I’d be clean.’ You’d wanted to kiss him?”

I laughed. “For a long time. Tallen was so handsome, so strong and brave. He’d be a good partner, he was a good man. I’d only come along so he’d be forced to see me as a woman instead of the child I’d been.”

“Did it work?”

“You don’t kiss children like that,” I said. “When we pulled apart, he said, ‘trust me’ and put out a hand. I put mine in his, and we jumped over the edge.”

“Maybe you are a spirit,” he said.

“I was lucky,” I laughed. “We landed in a lake, deep enough that we didn’t break any bones. The water helped wash away the darkspawn blood. When I came up for air, I looked around, gasping. I saw Tallen, swam over towards him, put my arms around him, and kissed him again, how I’d wanted to.”

“He tasted like fire and lake water,” he said.

I nodded. “We stood in the water for a time, embracing. Then we found our way to the shore. The darkspawn didn’t follow, so we made another small fire and slept for the night. The next morning, when I woke up he was gone. I panicked, put on my chest plate and went searching for him. I saw him on a far hill, picking flowers. Cole, in that moment I could have died.”

“But you wanted the flowers?”

“Good die, not bad die.”

“There’s different kinds of dying?” Cole asked.

“I settled back into camp, and he returned. Together we made our way back to the clan. When we arrived, Keeper Istimaethoriel came up and gave us a hug. The Keeper’s daughter, Asharell came up too and put her arms around Tallen. He reached in his pack and gave her the flowers.”

“You wanted to die then, too. Good die?”

“Bad die,” I said. “My heart broke into a thousand little pieces. We’d kissed, we’d survived darkspawn, and he picked flowers for the pretty girl back home instead of me.” I stopped and swallowed. The night air on the battlements had begun to chill, and goose bumps rose on my arms. “After we’d had a proper bath and a proper meal, I wandered near the halla. Tallen came up to me.”

“Kissing, killing, crying, chilling ‘No hard feelings?’ Oh. He was an ass.” I laughed and patted him on the back.

“Yes, he was. Apparently he’d long been sweet on Asharell and wanted to go on this expedition to impress the Keeper so he could marry his daughter. Our daring tale and the flowers had certainly done their part,” I said. “He came up to me and said, ‘I hope we can keep it a secret. It was the moment, fear of death and all that.’ I nodded, said it was fine. He was afraid he’d die. I was there. People have made worse choices under fear.”

“You carry this hurt like a scar,” he said. “But now, it cracks upon, and it’s hurting all the same.”

“When Solas and I kissed in the Fade, I was so excited. I hadn’t done anything like that in a long time,” I said. “But when we woke up, he said it was a bad decision, a mistake. So I let him go.” I put my hands on my knees and took a deep breath. “Then Blackwall and I, traveling, laughing. It came so suddenly, I thought the Creators had given me a second chance. We went and found his badge, we sat by the fire light.” “But he also said it was wrong,” Cole said.

“After Tallen and Asharell married, I spoke to the Hahren. I needed some advice. He told me, his years of wisdom, ‘You cannot beg anyone to love you.’”

“So when they said no, you believed them.”

“I’m not going to convince them otherwise. If they don’t want me enough to want me honestly, I won’t fight for it,” I said. My eyes welled up and Cole put his hand on mine.

“They could have been convinced,” he said, “but that wouldn’t have been right. It would have hurt you more than losing them.”

I wiped my eyes with my sleeve. “I think maybe love just isn’t for me. Before I wasn’t anyone, now I’m so much more than myself.”

“Willfull, wanting, given, gotten, ‘I’ve given up so much, maybe she could be for me, maybe this woman I could keep,’” he said.

“That’s not how I feel.”

“That isn’t you,” he said. I sat up straighter and looked at him. His eyes glanced down, Cullen leaning over the battlements, his own late night stroll.

“Josephine?” I asked. He shook his head. “Cassandra?” He shook his head again.

“Lost and longing, lyrium-sick, ‘She’s so powerful, so strong, how could she ever want anyone like me?’” Cole looked back at me.

I swallow and look at him, his hands running through his hair. “I never thought, I mean, I’d flirted, but he seemed so closed off. I assumed,” I trailed off.

“‘What if the lyrium takes me? What if I’m not strong enough? She deserves someone strong enough to carry her burdens. She deserves someone without the weight I carry.’”

“Thank you, Cole. This helped.” We hopped off the edge and I gave him another pat on the shoulder.

“Thank you. I’m happy I helped.”

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stevesharrlngtons · 3 years

Note

The lake + the kid

12. the lake

the kid slept the entire way. his long limbs coiled up on your passengers seat in a way that looked incredibly uncomfortable. but he didn’t complain as his cheek rested precariously on his knee.

when you arrived, you roused him with quiet, calm pleas and gentle strokes through his hair. after a few moments of your soft words and ministrations, he revealed two jewel colored eyes under his sleepy lids, and you smiled.

“we’re here, henry.”

he perked up at this, glancing out the windshield to the sparkling lake that stretched out before him. he looked enraptured with it and the scenery around; large weeping trees neighbored by strong pines; expansive stretches of grass muddled with wildflowers; a lazy cloud filled sky that held muted colors of cream and blues. you hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet and you were already so happy you decided to make this drive for him.

fall, winter and a relatively cool spring had come and gone without incident with the kid around. he didn’t necessarily like being cold, but he seemed more at home in the frigid temperatures and blankets of snow than you had found he felt in the sweltering heat. in the winter, he would huddle by the windows and watch the elements fall from the sky, excited at the notion of snow and loving the relaxation the rain offered him. he would take walks with you, bundled up in heaps of clothing so he was protected from the weather and the world's prying eyes. he liked to sit close to you in front of the fire, draping himself all over you in the name of warmth, but you both knew the real reason he did so.

but now, as late june had skyrocketed the temperatures in castle rock, henry barely left his room. he was glued to the fan you had set up for him, swaying his body along with its oscillation. he refused to go upstairs where the heat was higher, and even more fervently refused to go outside. he could no longer hide beneath layers of soft fabrics and thick ski coats. now, if he did that, he would no doubt get heatstroke. now, he was expected along with the rest of the population, to strip down to shorts and sleeveless shirts that offered him no protection. he felt bare, tender and raw with his skin on display. he felt exposed. he had just gotten to the point where he was comfortable with you seeing him shed from his clothes at least most of them. he really wasn’t ready for anyone else to really see him.

so, you had hatched a lovely plan.

as a child, your older sister had found a secret section of the nearby lake that was unknown by most locals. she and her friends would frequent it as teenagers, and when you were old enough, she let you tag along. through the years, you continued to make the drive to the secret little hideaway, it being the perfect place to think and reminisce of simpler times.

of all the times you had been to the lake, you had never seen more than two other people there. commonly, they were older men trying their luck in a new spot to fish in. they usually got the memo that there was nothing more than water bugs and frogs hopping about, and left soon after.

you had proposed the idea to the kid a few days before, telling him that he could get out of the house, be nature, but away from prying eyes; that you both could go somewhere you loved that was completely isolated and quite. telling him that it would just be the two of you for as long as he wanted to stay. he had giddily accepted.

now, you watched with a full heart as henry’s wide eyes took in the little spot you had loved for over a decade.

“come on, let’s set up,” you said, popping the trunk and getting out of the car.

you had brought a small picnic for the two of you to enjoy by the water, and a book for each of you if you decided to stay into the afternoon. the kid got out of the car soon after and swooped in front of you before you could pick up the picnic basket. you shot him a reprimanding look that had more love behind it than ire, and opted to take the two large beach towels instead.

henry followed you as you made your way down a familiar path to a grass clearing by the lake. that was where you decided to set up, laying down the two thick towels, followed by tupperware and sandwich baggies.

the kid ate his pb & j and drank his ginger ale (which he had just recently decided he enjoyed) while you snaked on a chicken salad sandwich and crackers.

it was nice, your little picnic. it was small and nothing fancy like you would often see your friends or coworkers go on. there were no elaborate dishes or decorations and you both had to shift your bodies and food often for the lumps of the earth underneath, but it felt perfect. it felt overwhelmingly right to show henry your secret hideaway. you had an urge to share everything with him, to have him know you deeper than any other living soul ever had. you wanted no secrets or confidentiality with him. you just wanted to be with him, wholly and completely, hoping that he would feel the same.

you wanted him in every part of you, and you yearned to be in every part of him.

you both finished up your sandwiches, and you reclined back on the towel, your elbows there to prop you upright as you enjoyed the beaming rays from above. similar to how he sat in the car, henry had pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins as he seemed to do the same. you could often sense when he was feeling anxious or tense, and now all you felt was calm. he felt utterly still.

with your eyes shut and your nose poised to the sky, you felt a gentle tickle against your finger. you opened your eyes and glanced over your shoulder to see that the kid had moved one of his hands from his shins to rest near your own, his pinky finger draped over your own in a small embrace.

after a while, henry had taken his book from your bag and begun to read though his finger never moved from where it rested over your own. with his attention captured within the pages of his novel, you decided it was a perfect time for you to take a dip in the lake. it wasn’t the hottest day that maine had experienced, but it was still quite warm and you had been dying to go for a swim.

“do you mind in i hop in for a while?” you asked, gesturing to the lake.

the kid fleetingly glanced at you over the top of his book before he shook his head gently and smiled, which you returned.

“ok,” you stood, unfortunately breaking the tether between you, “you can come sit on the dock if you’d like?”

there was a short, slightly dilapidated wood dock that gave best access to the lake, so you didn’t have to wade through a bunch of muck to get there.

the kid looked up a you fully this time, his large, bulging eyes clearly deep in consideration of your question. though soon, he nodded once more and pushed himself to stand next to you. the beaming grin you offered him at his acceptance made his cheeks tinge pink. as you striped from your t-shirt and shorts to the bathing suit you had underneath, his blush deepend profusely.

the cool water was a relief from the heat, and you let yourself fully enjoy the welcomed tempature as you ducked your head under the surface. when you did so, the kid watched with a close intensity, worry tying in his heart until you buoyed back up with a deep inhale. he would look up to watch you intermittently, swimming around and floating on your back, to make sure you were ok.

he continued to thumb through the pages of the theory of everything like he had on the towels, when he heard you call his name. the kid looked up from the book on his lap to see you swimming toward him, though one of your hands was cupped in a fist. when you reached him, your eyes sparked with excitement as you told him to open his hand and present his palm. he did so, though rather hesitantly after he set his dog eared book to the side.

“look at that,” you whispered with quite wonder as you opened your hand to reveal your treasure for him.

there, was a small, speckled frog, that hopped and squirmed from your palm to henry’s.

his lips formed a perfect o, and you swore you heard him hold his breath as the little creature sat and puffed out it’s throat rhythmically in his hand. he slowly took a finger and lightly stroked down the little amphibian’s back. at his touch, the frog quickly launched from his hand, onto the dock, then into the water. the kid’s eyes shone bright with intrigue and fascination.

“did you like ‘im? i thought he was pretty cute,” you said, hands clutching the lip of the dock as you looked up at him, in search of his approval.

“yes,” he said with a breathless smile, “thank you.”

“of course,” you replied, your heart fluttering.

you moved your cold nose to dust light strokes over the expanse of henry’s thigh, giving him sweet nose kisses that he keened happily about in his chest. when you were about to pull away to return to your frolicking, you felt him fold his body over you, pressing his forehead to your crown. his moved his hands to rest snuggly next to your own that still held the dock, and you heard him exhale pleasurably. like he was ridding all his anxieties and fears with one breath in favor of melting over you.

you said nothing and made no move to leave, just simply nuzzled your nose back his his thigh and enjoyed the sweet affection he showed you.

#I hope u liked this 🥺🥺🥺#the kid #the kid x reader #the kid imagine #stevesharrlngtonswrites

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adarlingwrites · 3 years

Text

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who’s willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XXVIII

January 14, 2278.

I woke up feeling confused.

Percy?

My wife?

Impossible. A ghoul marrying a smoothskin? Fucking insane.

I don’t think I’m even made for something as… normal as marriage. All my skills are geared towards killing and destroying. How can I even build a life with her?

Some people marry out of love, don’t they? My parents did, and they were happy together. When I was little, during their wedding anniversary, they’d leave me with someone else to look after me. Before she went away to study, Aunt Katya would do that for them. After she’s gone, it was whoever babysitter they can find.

They would always come home the next day with smiles on their faces.

When we started to become poorer, they’d spend the evening in the house, a lone candle illuminating the kitchen, and they’d dance to the radio in silence. My mother would look at my father with uncertain eyes, and he'd kiss the worries away.

“Annika, moya solnyshko, we’re going to be fine.”

Solnyshko. If I recall correctly, it’s a term of endearment in my parents’ language. I think it meant ‘little sun’.

I sighed and turned to Percy, still asleep, resting peacefully as the sunlight streamed from the windows and illuminated her face.

Is that something I want to do with Percy?

Hold her in my arms through thick and thin? Call her silly little things out of affection?

Is it love that drives me to dream of being her husband? Or is she just too involved in my life now for me to think of someone else?

Some people married out of convenience, after all. Like Aunt Katya.

I remember bringing the rings on her wedding day. She was already heavy with child, dressed in white. I couldn’t remember if it was in the year 2069 or 2070, but obviously, it was before I was taken away for indoctrination.

“Tetushka,” I remember addressing her during the reception. “Who is he?”

“Artyom, this is Nathaniel. He’s the man I married, and he’s going to be your uncle. Don’t be shy, say hi.”

The man steps closer, and kneels. He had some stubble on his jaw, square and shapely, and his hair is cut neatly, like the soldiers I see on posters.

“So this is the nephew you were talking about, Kitty. Hey there sport,” he greets extending his hand. I remember reluctantly giving him a handshake.

“I know this is all so sudden, but he’s part of the family now,” Aunt Katya explains, smiling, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I think it’s time for the toast, dear. We wouldn’t want to miss it.” Nathan interrupts, whisking my aunt away and giving me a nod and a wink.

That night, as my father drove us home, he spoke to me.

“Artyom, could you make me a promise?”

“What kind of promise papa?”

“Promise me, when you grow up and if you decide to marry someone, make sure that you marry out of love, like I did with your mother. Don’t be like your aunt Katya.”

“I promise,” I tell him. “But what’s wrong with aunt Katya?”

“Ilya, I think we should save this conversation for another day. Our Artyom might be too young,” my mother tells father.

“Nonsense. It’s never too early to let him know. Artyom, your tetushka married that man because she thought she couldn’t take care of a baby on her own. I’m not sure if she loves Nathan, and that’s what scares me. Your auntie is strong. But I’m not sure how she will handle a marriage with uncertain feelings. It could destroy her.”

I blinked a few times. It was too heavy for me to understand back then.

“I think what your father is trying to say, Artyom,” my mother adds, “Is when people marry and start a family, they usually live together under one roof, like your papa and I. When you marry someone and live under one roof with someone you do not love, life can become difficult.”

“I think I understand, mama.”

I do understand now.

My reminiscing got interrupted when Percy cracked one eye open, and reached for me.

“Hey. Good morning, big guy. You slept well?”

I nodded.

“Let’s get some breakfast.”

After waking Butch up, the three of us packed our sleeping bags and went outside to start a fire. The dawn is just breaking, the horizon hazy. I can’t remember being this up early. Our sleep schedule was borderline nocturnal.

As the Cram sizzled on the clean sheet of metal we used to cook on while travelling, Percy was heating some clean water over the fire as well. She used it to rehydrate the Instamash, and the rest went into a cup. My partner then takes out a small sachet, the label washed out, but I can still see what it was.

“Found this in a coat pocket from Moira’s gifts the other day,” she giggles. “Hot chocolate!”

My eyes widened. Damn, I haven’t seen one of those after the war. Is it even safe to consume?

“Man, I miss the food in the vault. Lemme have some,” DeLoria exclaims, excited.

Percy pours it in the cup and stirs it with a spoon. She takes a sip, passes it to Butch, who wrinkles his nose, then to me. Well, if we can still eat Cram after 200 years of it sitting on some shelf, I think I’ll be fine with this ancient hot chocolate.

It’s hot. Comforting. The flavor is a little rancid, but what else is new with these preserved Pre-War foods? It’s still somewhat sweet. The nostalgia I felt for the life I left behind grew. I look into the cup, the dark liquid swirling, reminding me of Percy’s eyes. Then, I pass it back to her.

“You were smiling in your sleep,” Percy quips, looking at me with eyes still heavy with sleep. “Dreamed of something nice?”

Despite the cold, I feel the warmth spreading through me. Of fucking course I just can’t tell her that I dreamed that I wasn’t a monster, and she is my wife, and we had a son who looked like her while we’re frolicking at a beach in California. I have to think of something else.

“I dreamed DeLoria fell down the stairs.”

Percy almost spat out her drink laughing. Butch gives me a dirty look. “Yeah, real funny, you bastard,” he groans.

I couldn’t help but laugh at my own lie, too.

Butch put the fire out with snow, and we’re off again, heading west. The sun’s rising in the east, warming our backs as we pressed on. By the time we got to Lamplight, the sun’s risen, but was blocked out by clouds.

We approached the cavern entrance, and followed the trail inside. There, MacCready is still keeping watch.

“Hey, we got your friends back. Can we come in now?” Percy shouts, keeping a safe distance.

“I guess you’re okay after all, for a mungo. But you better not piss me off!”

As the three of us approached the gate, the kid pointed his rifle at DeLoria.

“Hey wait a second, you weren’t with them when they first came here,” he barks, suspicious.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s harmless. He’s gonna watch out stuff for us while we go in Vault 87,” Percy explains, pulling Butch’s arm hurriedly.

“Who the fuck are you?” the mayor asks Butch, and of course the moron puffed his chest out.

“I’m Butch! I lead a gang called the Tunnel Snakes and I helped them get your friends outta Paradise Falls too!”

“What kind of dumbshit name is Tunnel Snakes?”

Okay, I can’t fucking help it. I am laughing. This kid is just fine.

As DeLoria squabbles with MacCready, Percy sits down in a corner to catch her breath and rest, and I join her. Soon, some of the kids started gathering around us, and among them were the children we rescued from Paradise.

“It’s the ghost and the zombie that saved us!” one of them exclaimed, running towards us.

“Zombie isn’t a nice word to call him, kid. He’s called a ghoul,” Percy tells her, voice a little softer than her usual speaking tone.

“A pretty ghost and a scary ghoul saved you? Wow!”

Soon, the voices of the children grew louder as they chattered about us, the odd group of mungos allowed in the cave.

I felt uncomfortable as the children poked around and asked us so many questions. Some of them are too afraid to come closer to me, while some openly try to climb on my back and gingerly touch some of my scars. I guess the dream I had about having one will remain a dream. These children are exhausting to be around.

Yet Percy takes it all in stride, answering every question they ask her, showing off her stuff, and regaling them with tales from our travels. She’d gently pet the hair of one of the little girls who huddled next to her, and her patience didn’t waver as one of the boys accidentally spilled their Nuka Cola on her jacket.

She reminds me of my own mother. I’m sure she’d be a great mother if she ever decides to be one.

And when that happens, I’m not going to be the one by her side.

“Percy! Tell us another story,” one of the children, who was called Knock Knock, asks my partner, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“I think I’ve already told you all of my stories.”

“Well, you can always make one up,” another little girl, the one called Bumble, suggests.

“Hmm…”

Eyes flicking towards me, Percy offers the children a soft smile.

“Long ago, there was a young maiden, living in a fortress with steel walls. The most important rule was one was allowed to go in and out of the fortress.” Percy starts, leaning her head towards me.

“A maiden? Why not a princess? Princesses lived in fortresses, right? Or was it a castle?”

“Shut up, Zip! Don’t interrupt her.”

Chuckling, Percy clears her throat and continues. “She kept to herself, and kept herself busy with plants and books. The maiden was content with living in the fortress, but she always wondered what the world beyond them looked like. One night, while the maiden was exploring the lower levels of the fortress, a horrible beast took her away, and captured her. He put her in an invisible cage, which keeps her under his control.”

I think I know who this maiden is.

“Oh no, is she okay? Who saved her?”

“We’ll get to that soon. The maiden was kept in a cage for so long, that she thought that she'd never get out. Then, one night, word got around that someone left the fortress. In her desire to see the world, she grips the bars of the invisible cage, and bends it, finally escaping.”

The children were listening in awe. “What happens to the girl? Does she escape the fortress?”

“Yes, and she had to face the monster that captured her in doing so. In a show of courage, she wields a sword, and takes his head off in one slice.”

“Coooool,” one of the kids exclaimed.

“Then, she starts looking for her father. But she couldn’t do it alone. There were many dangers in the world outside the fortress. So, she looks for someone who can watch her back.”

“Is it a knight? Or a prince?”

“Hmm. No, her companion is neither of those. He’s something else.”

“What is he?”

“A ferryman.”

“What’s a ferryman, Percy?”

“Have you kids ever heard of a boat? A ferryman is in charge of running that boat.”

“Oh, so they rode through a boat?”

“Yeah. They did. This ferryman, all he knew before he met the maiden was to take the souls of people and deliver them to Death. Kind of like the Grim Reaper. Everyone’s gotta die some time, and it was his job to ensure that they make it to the other side.”

“Yikes! Why would she ask someone like that to watch her back?”

Percy pauses, unsure what to answer. Her eyes flick to her lap, then, she smiles at one of the kids.

“Because, the maiden knows better than to judge a book by its cover. Turns out, the ferryman was one of the most reliable, bravest, and kindest people outside the fortress, but he’s stuck to his job. So, they burn the boat, and the maiden, instead of facing Death, runs away with the ferryman. The end.”

“Wow, that was boring,” one of the boys quipped, which earned him an elbow from one of the girls.

“Are you kidding? That was amazing!”

“Aw, that can’t be the end! What happens to them after?”

“Do they fall in love?”

A short chortle escaped Percy. “That’s a story for another day. My friend and I need to get going.”

Bumble looks up to Percy with big, begging eyes. “Promise us you’ll tell the rest when you come back, please?”

A chorus of “Please, Percy” fills the cave. I couldn’t help but snort at the overwhelmed look on Percy’s face. Then, she gave them a quick nod, to which they responded with cheers.

“Alright big guy, time for us to go into the Vault. Wait, where’s Butch?”

On the opposite side of the cave, surrounded by mostly boys, including MacCready himself, Butch was shouting and cheering.

“Tunnel Snakes rule!”

“Tunnel Snakes rule!” the boys echoed.

We laughed at the scene. “Hey, looks like Butch have new gang members in no time.”

Striding towards DeLoria, Percy dumps the gear we didn’t need to bring near his feet. She takes off her leather jacket and scarf, and her sneaking suit’s helmet protracted over her face. It was a curious sight for the children, looking at her with bewildered eyes.

“Look after the stuff, Butch. If we don’t come back in eight hours, get help from the Brotherhood.”

“Got it. What but what if something else comes through the door?”

“If it’s not with us, shoot it. Help the kids defend this place.”

Butch gulps. “I… uh…”

“There are spare guns and grenades in one of the packs. You helped us with Paradise, Butch. You can handle this,” Percy encourages him, rubbing the back of his palm gently.

I look away.

“You’re right. See you in a few hours.”

Following a teenage boy who introduced himself as Joseph, who turned out to be the brother of one of the children we got out of the slave pen, we were led to a terminal which accesses a door to the vault. No one bothered to write down the password, so Percy cracked her knuckles and started typing away eagerly.

Eyes still fixated on the glowing green monitor, she had that determined look on her face again.

The door hisses open, and we step in. It was unnaturally cold and silent.

“This is it, Charon. We’re so close.”

#lone wanderer #female lone wanderer #charon #fallout charon #charon fallout #charon fallout 3 #fallout 3 charon #charon fo3 #fo3 charon #charon x lone wanderer #oc: percy zhou #fanfic: absolution #series: through river acheron #fallout 3 #fallout fanfic #fo3 #writers on tumblr

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Text

The Simple Honor of Domesticity

Category: Family Fluff

Characters: Rukia Kuchiki, Ichigo Kurosaki

Requested By: @deliazeedork (Tumblr)

Rukia held the flat of her hand against her forehead as she gazed up at the brilliant azure sky stretching above Karakura Town. Her indigo-hued eyes beheld the bright landscape dotted with fluffy white clouds moseying along, occasionally masking the intense luminescence blooming from the burning white-yellow sun peaking at the atmosphere. The time had just reached the height of noon, and to celebrate, the life-giving star blasted all its heat down onto the welcoming earth.

“The perfect time to dry the laundry!” Rukia chirped blissfully, dropping her arm so she could stoop down and scoop up the laundry basket resting by her feet. She scurried across the threshold of the front door and into the freshly-cut front yard, where the clothesline strung from the side of the house to the wooden fence outlining the small suburban property. Humming pleasantly, Rukia dropped the basket so she could begin plucking clothespins from the taut wire gently swaying on the afternoon breeze. One by one, she pinned them into her shirt so she would have easy access to them when she began stringing up the clothes. She paused when she heard the front door rattle, eyebrows knitting in confusion. Her expression then melted into soft affection as her five-year-old son, Kazui, carefully held the door open so his three-year-old brother Takeshi could waddle through the doorway.

“Mama,” Takeshi boy purled as he spotted her with his round, warm brown eyes. Cooing, he gestured at her with grabby hands, while Kazui regarded Rukia with a serious expression so like his father that she almost had to do a double-take.

“Mom, I tried to keep him inside, but he just won’t,” the orange-haired boy complained. Takeshi squatted down so he could cautiously descend the stairs, going down backward by lowering his feet while grasping the ledge of the stair above. Rukia smiled warmly as her baby boy settled on the pathway and then hurriedly whipped around so he could begin running toward her.

“Oh, it’s all right,” she sighed contently, crouching down to embrace her son with her slim arms as he plowed into her. Rukia chortled as he nearly threw her off-balance with his eager embrace, only managing to stay upright by pushing the balls of her feet into the dirt. “Takeshi, would you like to help Mama with the laundry?” The little boy peeled away from her to look curiously at the mound of fabrics piled into the plastic bin.

“Okay!” he chirped in agreement. He toddled forward to plunge his chubby fists into the pile of cloth, digging in to drag out several articles of clothing at once. Rukia hastily lunged forward to keep the freshly-washed clothes and bedsheets from tumbling into the dirt, allowing Takeshi to cling to the bottoms of the fabric while she carried it over to the line. The boy screeched delightedly, apparently very amused at the way the damp material wiggled in the wind. Rukia regarded him affectionately before instructing him to hold the fabric still so she could secure it to the wire. Takeshi watched her with rapture as she plucked up two clothespins to clamp the bedsheet onto the clothesline.

“Kazui!” Rukia called over her shoulder, holding the sheet at bay as it attempted to ripple into her person. The boy was sitting on the stoop, watching the two hang the clothes with a blank expression and fists pushed into his cheeks. He perked up as his mother addressed him, straightening and dropping his hands onto his knees. “Would you like to help?”

Rukia smiled in amusement as his internal debate reflected clearly in his expression. After a few seconds, he called, “Okay,” and trotted over. Rukia watched him in endearment as he gently stopped his brother, who was growing frustrated at how the wet clothes were tangled together, and showed him how to pull apart the clothes properly. Kazui gifted Takeshi two socks; the boy squealed in excitement and stamped his feet in elation as if he had won first prize in a race. Giddily, he ran over to Rukia to hold them up proudly.

“Thank you,” she praised as she kneeled. “Let Mama show you something fun!” She took one of the socks from him and slipped it over her hand, ignoring the way the water within cooled her skin. Grinning, she thrust the sock into his face and began flapping her hand like a mouth, making nonsensical noises. Screeching laughter and high-pitched cackles exploded from his small body as Rukia nuzzled the damp sock-puppet into the side of his face, squirming away at the odd sensation of the wet sock in his jet-black hair. Still giggling, he shoved his short, stubby arm into the sock (which was one of Ichigo’s and therefore covered nearly up to his shoulder). He waddled back to Kazui, who was watching with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement.

“Ha-ha! I got you!” Takeshi screamed and began mimicking Rukia, bouncing up and down as he paraded the puppet in Kazui’s face. Rukia held her free hand over her mouth as she laughed mirthfully, pleased by the flush of delight rosing his round cheeks. Kazui flinched away from the wet sock, snorting in laughter and batting at his brother’s hand. As his big brother took off to begin running in circles around the yard, Takeshi chased after him, chubby legs stamping through the grass as he tried his best to catch up. Rukia resumed hanging the clothes on the line as the two boys frolicked through the grassy space. A serene smile graced her face, and her cheeks shone with a rosy hue as she listened to their gleeful laughter and spotted their forms flitting through the gaps in the clothes.

If you had asked her ten years ago, Rukia would have abhorred the proposition of settling down and resigning herself to domesticity. She was a Soul Reaper, for crying out loud- a fierce warrior, a fiery spirit who lived for rising through the ranks and hunting down the Hollows. Where was the honor of being a housewife? Now, however… As she paused to peek around the fluttering bedsheet and watch as Kazui allowed Takeshi to clamber on top of him and pinch his nose with the damp sock-puppet, Rukia couldn’t imagine her life as anything else.

There was a simple honor within domesticity- the honor of watching young lives bud into maturity under her careful attention and care… Now, after all this time, she understood Hisana’s devotion to her adoptive elder brother and deep desire to have a family. Rukia already experienced more love than she ever thought possible, and yet it grew every day as she watched her boys slowly navigate their shared childhood. Her heart swelled, enjoying them tussling in the grass, with Kazui being gentle so as not to unduly hurt his sweet and energetic younger sibling. I’m so grateful…

“Rukia!” The woman turned to see her husband walking up the path, clutching a plastic bag from the convenience store down the road. A gentle smile brightened his angular face. Rukia dropped the piece of clothing that she had been clutching back into the basket so she could skip over and press a kiss onto his cheek. “What’s that for?” he laughed.

“I missed you.”

“I’ve only been gone ten minutes,” he reminded amusedly. Rukia puffed out her cheeks, displeased at his disregard for her affections, and lightly hand-chopped him on the crown of his head.

“I missed you for those ten minutes, dummy!” she scolded, striking him several more times. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, so he only chuckled and reached up to grasp her hand. Her face flooded pink as he brought it to his lips so he could kiss her palm.

“I missed you, too.” Rukia hurriedly turned away; even after years of marriage, she still hated for him to see her blush. Ichigo laughed at her cute embarrassment, pressing little butterfly kisses across her knuckles to fluster her further. Though the temperature of her face rose several increments with each passing second, Rukia could not bring herself to retract her hand. She was both grateful and disappointed when Takeshi and Kazui charged through the drying sheets, simultaneously screaming “Daaaaad!”

“Hey, hey!” Ichigo grunted as they slammed into his long legs, making him stumble back a bit. Rukia laughed at his crooked smile and the way he leaned over to bear-hug them each with one big arm. “You’ve been helping Mom with the laundry, I see. Good boys. I love it when you help out your mother,” he praised as he ruffled their hair, Kazui’s bright orange and Takeshi’s midnight black. After a second of nuzzling his children, Ichigo let them go, and they immediately ran back to the laundry to play around in the damp clothes. It was only a few articles, so Rukia was content to allow them to slip them on and dirty them up; she would have to rewash them eventually, after all. As she watched them affectionately, Ichigo sidled up to wind his arm around her hips.

“Ya know,” he hummed, pressing his lips into her fluffy black hair, “sometimes it still surprises me that you adjusted to all this so easily.”

“Huh?” she blinked, pulling her head away to look up at him in surprise, though she’d basically had the same line of thinking just a few minutes ago. He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s just… I dunno… You’re such a firecracker, ya know?” Rukia huffed haughtily and crossed her arms. As soon as she looked at her two boys chasing each other around the yard, Kazui bogged down with one of Ichigo’s hoodies and Takeshi chasing him with one of Rukia’s cardigans wound around his neck like a cape, the tension melted from her body like snow.

“What do I have to miss, Ichigo? I have everything I need right here.” Ichigo remained still beside her for a moment. He then huffed in amazement. She could feel him smiling as he pressed his face back into her hair to press a lingering kiss into her scalp. His big arms enveloped her smaller form, drawing her into his body to cover her in his gentle radiating warmth.

“Yeah. Me too.”

Together, they continued to watch their two bundles of joy play around the clothesline; together, they simply enjoyed the product of their union, the simple honor of domesticity.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

#ichiruki #rukia kuchiki #kuchiki rukia #ichigo kurosaki #kurosaki ichigo #domestic fluff #bleach #bleach fanfiction #bleach fanfic #ichiruki fanfic #ichiruki fanfiction

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spookywhumping · 3 years

Text

Snow Day

I’m baaaack! Finally wrote something new! :D I’ve had this idea since December, and freaking finally got around to writing it. Hopefully once the semester ends I’ll have more time for this blog. Until then, here’s a new Dolly story.

More of the Dolly series: here

“Keep your coat buckled up, okay?”

“Okay, Mom.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a hat?”

“No, I’m fine, Mom.”

Dolly listened to the conversation from his spot sitting on the floor. Eleanore and her mother were standing near the doorway leading into the back gardens, with Eleanore bouncing anxiously on her feet. She’d been excited ever since waking up that morning and looking out the window, where a thick layer of snow coated the ground outside. And now she had her hand on the doorknob, ready to burst out and run around.

“Hmm, you’re absolutely sure?” Mrs. Winthrop asked again. “I could have the maid fetch one from the first floor hall.”

The maid in question was standing nearby, wearing a blue uniform and apron. Dolly glanced over at her, and both of them briefly locked eyes before he looked away again. This was not the time to think about the Winthrops’ servants. Eleanore was busy; she wanted to play. With him, specifically. Otherwise she wouldn’t have bothered to drag him downstairs.

“It’s really fine, Mom. Can I go now? Pleeeeeaase?” Eleanore’s excited bouncing intensified.

Mrs. Winthrop sighed. “Alright. Have fun, sweetie. Don’t stay out all day.”

“Yes!” Eleanore immediately threw open the door, causing a blast of cold air, and ran outside, laughing and kicking at the snow with her boots. Dolly leaned slightly to the side to get a better look of her frolicking through the open door. For just a moment, he dared to hope that she would leave him inside.

And then immediately after the thought crossed his mind, Eleanore turned around sharply and ran back inside, heading straight to Dolly. He braced himself just as she grabbed the ribbon around his neck and started pulling. Gasping, he hurried to follow her. Well, what was he expecting? He shouldn’t have even thought it. And he shouldn’t be so disappointed. Dolls don’t get disappointed.

Upon stepping outside he immediately started shivering, tensing as if he could physically ward against the cold. The gardens were entirely white, the trees and plants weighed down. This cold bit into him and leeched all possible heat from any exposed skin. Which, given how he was wearing a flimsy short-sleeved shirt and equally flimsy cloth pants, was quite a lot.

“Snowman! Dolly, let’s make a snowman!” Eleanore pulled him off the mostly-clear path and into the deep snow that covered the grass. Dolly bit back a gasp as he sunk into the cold, reaching halfway up his shins. At least he had shoes and socks.

Eleanore finally let go and crouched down, packing up a snowball in her gloved hands. “C’mon, you start the middle,” she said, attempting to roll it up. Dolly nodded, and slowly knelt down, flinching as the snow soaked into his pants. It was fine. She’d wear herself out soon, and they could go back inside.

After making the snowman, Eleanore wanted to have a snowball fight. Which quickly devolved into her pelting Dolly with snow so hard-packed that he just knew it would leave bruises where it hit. She would sometimes yell, “You need to throw them! Do it!” and he’d grab a handful of flakes and halfheartedly fling them in Eleanore’s general direction. None of them landed, of course. He wouldn’t dare risk making her parents mad by hurting her. But she wanted a fight, so he’d do his best.

The sun had moved significantly in the winter sky by the time Eleanore got tired of the snowballs. She was starting to shiver, but still laid down in the snow and made a cluster of snow angels. Luckily, she didn’t ask Dolly to join in. So he just stood nearby and watched, rubbing his ice-cold arms.

Eleanore sighed. She stared up at the sky, still for a while. Then she stood up, toddling a bit in her heavy coat, and headed back towards the garden door she’d come outside from. Dolly slumped in relief, and followed her on stiff legs. He wasn’t fast, and ended up walking some distance behind her, but he didn’t think that mattered.

Until Eleanore went inside and shut the door behind her.

Dolly stopped, staring at the closed door. The thoughts in his mind grinded to a halt. Then he hurried to close the distance to the house. He reached out and touched the wood of the door, but didn’t make any further moves. Eleanore would notice, right? She’d realize he was still outside soon, right?

He stood there for a solid ten minutes, shaking in the cold. Of course she’d notice. Eleanore loved her dolls. He just had to wait until then. Dolly wrapped his arms around himself again and swayed gently. Maybe that motion would keep him warm for a while.

More and more time passed. He just kept standing at the door, waiting. Clouds slowly rolled over the sky and covered the sun, causing the temperature to drop. His teeth started chattering. Strange, he’d always thought that had been made up for stories, but nope. If you got cold enough and shivered hard enough, you couldn’t stop your teeth from knocking together.

It must’ve been at least half an hour now. How long had they been outside in the first place? A couple hours? His feet were starting to hurt from standing, but he didn’t want to sit down on the icy ground and let it suck out what little warmth he had. Though, maybe his legs would end up giving way eventually. They already felt like frozen, brittle icicles.

When the first flakes began drifting down from the sky, Dolly finally considered opening the door. Just briefly. After all, there wasn’t anything physically stopping him. As far as he knew, this door wasn’t locked. But he couldn’t do it. Dolls couldn’t open doors. Their owners would be so freaked out if they did. Imagine dolls going anywhere they wanted, seeing and doing anything—no no no no no no, he shouldn’t be thinking about this. No matter what, he shouldn’t do something like that. It wasn’t allowed. Against the rules against the rules against the rules—

The door opened. “Dolly?”

Dolly blinked, and looked down at Eleanore. “There you are!” She shouted, sounding relieved. “C’mon!” She grabbed his arm and started pulling.

He didn’t even have the ability to gasp in surprise. Instead of stepping forward like he normally would have, he fell, slamming across the tiled floor of the hallway. The impact shook his frozen bones, but Eleanore was still pulling, looking very annoyed. Dolly got to his hands and knees slowly, unable to move any faster, and crawled forward. Eleanore still wasn’t satisfied, and ended up half-dragging him, but he did his best to keep up.

The warm air of the house felt hot to his icy skin, almost burning. He almost didn’t want to stay inside because of it. But it didn’t matter what he wanted. No, he didn’t want anything at all. Dolls don’t want anything.

Eleanore pulled him into one of the manor’s sitting rooms. This one had a large television, though not the largest one in the house, as well as several sofas and a window showing the snowfall outside. Some sort of movie was paused on screen, but Dolly didn’t recognize it.

“You sit right here.” Eleanore shoved him onto the corner of one of the sofas, then hopped up on the center. Dolly noticed there were several other dolls set up in a line on the sofa as well. Humming to herself, Eleanore grabbed a blanket and pulled it up over her and the rest of the dolls, Dolly included. “There we are.” She then grabbed a remote and pressed play, starting the movie, which appeared to be near the beginning.

Dolly stared at her, then slowly slumped back into the sofa cushions. There was still cold deep inside him, but the warmth of inside was starting to wear him down. Slowly, he pulled his arms and legs close, hoping that would help him warm up faster.

See? It all turned out okay.

And now that Dolly was warmer, he was starting to feel oddly sleepy. He tried to fight it, but it was impossible. The darkness of sleep slowly took hold of him and he faded into darkness.

#whump #whump writing #whump oc #whump ocs #oc tag: dolly #oc tag: eleanore winthrop #dehumanization #hypothermia #freezing

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tamasin-a · 3 years

Text

@alvearegn just subbed! / ❝ we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. ❞ ( x. )

THEY’VE LOVED EACH OTHER BEFORE they even knew what love was. from the puppy love of childhood friends: a living beehive and a living flame frolicking within the vast, verdant forest; holding a stick in their hands, weapon-child afraid of burning- to the nervous, tentative love between reunited friends at the back of a dumpster, shy glances and averted gazes as they sit together, eyes watching the stars above- to the wholehearted love that felt like home to them, amidst a burned out campfire and the kind gazes of the gods that looked upon them. it’s love, through and through, in all forms: eternal, unconditional, forgiving, kind.

tamasin never would’ve thought he could’ve gotten this. ( once upon a time, he was the prodigal son, weapon-child, destroyer of the galaxies to come- once upon a time they told him to discard love; that he was only the arsonist’s blaze, personified- its only intention to set the universe alight. ) tamasin had discarded love while cradling it in the same breath; listened to the words of the unwise as he kept onto hope- after all, what’s the point in anything, if you’ve lost all hope? ( history has its eyes on you! ) -and that hope had rewarded him.

...or maybe hope was here all along. blossoming with tovia; blossing with them, hand in hand. in clutched fabrics as hidden bombs went off within l’hanbrymin walls, in intertwined fingers as they stood side-by-side atop a stage, in pulled apart hands as star-crossed lovers had been separated; one the right-hand man of a dictator now gone, the other the right-hand man of a leader once was, in a body that’s held firm against him after a festival gone wrong, in the juxtaposed stance between exiled vice-president and reluctant president, in the nuzzling noses of fresh lovers behind a blazing campfire, in the moment of reprieve as they step out of the rubble, looking towards a clear, blue sky- in tamasin choosing him, over everything: over the artefacts, over the world, in tovia choosing him, too- over l’hanbrymin, over war, over hate.

it takes a long time for them to go back to the way it was ( ‘ it was never meant to be, ‘ said thrice by the people that once had hope, about the kingdom that fell three times. ), president and vice president; child of the hive and child of the flame. their promise to repair l’hanbrymin; to fix, to nurture, to protect; sworn in the drifting of a optimistic tune amidst the air now fresh ( tamasin says, if i get to rule with you, then i will. ). the artefacts once long sought after, now returned to their rightful owner, new-and-old power thrumming in his veins, and tamasin feels more alive than ever, and when his body spasms and twitches with the raw power it had long been deprived of having, upchucking inferno and fiery beasts- they turn to it as celebration, not something to be afraid of.

they get to work almost immediately. it takes years before they’ve even made a dent in the pile of administrative work and repairwork that needs to be done; create life out of nothing; turn a crater back into a bustling city. it doesn’t help matters when they relapse, too- broken children taking on a task their ancestors should’ve completed a long time ago- where tobi turns to violence to satiate the stinging pain in his chest, where tamasin turns to fire to calm the flood of despair in his mind- it takes months of pointed silence and desperate nights for them to admit they need help, takes years for them to talk about it; to get help, to recover- all this in the midst of repairing, of fixing, of creating.

they’re creating something new, within themselves. tamasin runs this through his fingers- entertains the thought of living life like this, all the time- with tobi, with peace and love and safety. he likes it. he likes it very much.

they grow older.

the wear and tear of trauma settles in as they do- sore bodies, tense muscles and memories that bring the shock of dynamite.

they carry on. tobi and tamasin work through this ( it’s always them against the world; against everyone else. ). they carry on. tobi works long until the sun has set, and tam works with him, quietly, by his side as he scrawls plans and notes across piles of books. they carry on- tam rallies a team; drags antiphonus into the fray; create rather than destroy, and soon enough-

-l’hanbrymin... is. a country that was meant to be. ( history will prove them wrong! )

a bustling city; an incredible citylife, a thriving economy, a country that loves, and cares, and protects- just like it was meant to be; just like the forefathers that came before them were supposed to do. ( they tell their stories- of course they do; of the leaders that have loved and lost: presidents, rebel leaders, the forgotten ones, the remembered ones, fathers and mothers who had came and went; whether if it had been their time, whether they had decided to leave, whether they had died, honorably or not. they tell their stories. they will not let history repeat again. )

tamasin and tobi sit on the bench that looks over l’hanbrymin, in silence. it’s a good silence that settles in his bones as he breathes in the fresh air, tousles his fiery locks as he looks upon what had once been a warzone- what had once been desolation: rubble and destruction and nothing. it feels good to have done something meaningful- to have done something with tobi, especially.

tobi laughs- hysterical, relieved, excited for what is to come.

tamasin laughs along, and his hand finds a home in tobi’s- and tamasin finds a home in tobi. he feels warm- cheeks glowing an excited gold, circles of yellow revealing themselves across his body.

we deserve a soft epilogue, my love, tobi says, and tamasin wants to say so many things in response; you deserve everything i have to offer: heart, soul, flesh, mind. you deserve the stars that hang in the night sky, the sun that shines so brightly in the morning, the glistening blanket of snow that drapes across grass and dirt paths and roof tiles, the morning dew that settles on leaves- i will collect them for you to see.

we did it.

we can rest now.

we’re free.

l’hanbrymin’s free.

tamasin snorts and rolls his eyes.

“ ...since when were ya the kinda guy to say ‘ my love ‘? “ he says instead, but tamasin rests his head on tobi’s shoulder, folds his arms together upon his lap, and rests his gaze on the setting sun.

tobi knows everything that goes unsaid. ( we do, indeed. )

#write day & night like you’re running out of time ! [ IN CHARACTER. ]#alvearegn #rise above my station ; organize the information ! [ INBOX. ]#it's like a week before valentines day so <3 #president role cursed but love warm and soft #who lives / who dies / who tells your story ? [ ACT 4 / FREEDOM. ]

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