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#maybe that's another of my ''source my anxiety told me'' thoughts but

trashytoastboi · 2 months

Note

Hi, it's me again could you do a super lovely and shy and cold as they are, do a headcanon of Zoro, Ace and Law confessing their love to S/O as a Strawhats member?

Hiya! I feel like every one of my replies are going to be apologizing for the long waits •_•; But I hope you enjoy ~ 🍀 I'm experimenting with formats and layout at the moment so if my things look a little skwonky I apologise 🤣

Headcanons: Zoro, Ace, Law confessing their love to Straw-Hat! Reader

> (Gender Neutral) <

Roronoa Zoro

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⚔️ Zoro wasn’t one too fixated on appearances, that wasn’t the greatest source of attraction to him. It’s more of having the sentiment that his partner would be the most attractive person to him. He could appreciate humor, stubbornness and strength. Maybe it was the drawing point for him that {Name} possessed all these qualities. Sure with their first meeting he found them annoying, occasionally a bit invasive till he realized it was concern that drove them to always check up on him. Zoro likened his feelings to “Just another crewmate” “Just thinking of them like everyone else.” Zoro was dense at the best of times, other times fiercely intuitive and he was the former, until it dawned on him. Hitting him violently when Zoro finally identified these feelings as something more than just loyalty, it was more affectionate. Scarier yet simultaneously more gentle.

⚔️ Zoro took a long time working up to the decision of confessing. I mean, they belonged to the same crew. Would this affect or change anything? He racked his brain, day in and day out. Going for the occasional brooding session while looking out into the vast ocean. Searching his thoughts and fears for any answer they could provide. Zoro figured this wasn’t in his nature, brute force was best. Just going in head first regardless of the outcome was best. So that’s what he decided he would do.

⚔️ The day was good, relaxed. No marines, no enemies nor outlandish happenings. The day was just an eventful, jovial day on the sea. Sailing and navigating through to their next destination. Zoro thought other than chaos this would be the best time for his confession. Zoro called {Name} out, gruffly and abruptly. One might have thought he was challenging them to fight rather than getting ready to confess his feelings. It was not graced by flowery words, nor roundabout explanations of how he got to that point. A simple straight forward confession where he simply said “I love you.”

⚔️ {Name} looked surprised, stunned even. They mouthed a slight ‘Ah’ as if some question had been answered. They’d long realized his unusual behavior, or the lingering stares when he would get caught staring. Never a glare, they sensed no anger from it. It had always been a look of affection and warmth. {Name} realized his weird behavior had been because of his crush. They smiled, they’d have to answer his passionate and curt confession. With the look of confidence, {Name} knew Zoro well enough that they could tell he dwelled on this. Giving plenty of thought to his confession.

⚔️Zoro said it, he said it with all his resolve. He didn’t exactly want to shout at {Name} so while all his passion was in it, it came across nonchalantly. Zoro kept a brave face, holding back his anxieties until an answer had been given. Every second only served to heighten his anticipation. Zoro let out a nervous chuckle, was this the end of the friendship they cultivated? Would this be an awkward encounter that leaves things strange between them? He didn’t know. Zoro had many questions, with no answers.

⚔️ Accepting the confession: {Name} kept him waiting with bated breath, seeing his anxiety they had to put Zoro’s worries to ease. They smiled, took a deep breath and told him the truth of their own feelings. Not as daunting as being the one to make the first move but still took courage to reciprocate. {Name} felt an overwhelming joy when they saw how Zoro’s face washed over with the brief respite of relief before converting into happiness. He had a smile that he couldn’t hide. Not his usual little smile but something that indicated his true happiness. Zoro acted on his feelings and pulled {Name} into a hug.

⚔️ Denying the confession: {Name} felt a sinking in their hearts, they looked at Zoro with a sad smile that said everything. Zoro attempted to hide his expressions of disappointment. Maybe his face kept a neutral expression, one that said he didn’t mind. The subtle drop in his shoulders and his bolstering confidence that dissipated into something more meek spoke volumes. He chuckled saying not to worry, probably just the alcohol got him saying crazy things. They both knew that wasn’t the case but to spare each other it was going to be the cause.

Portgas D. Ace

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�� Ace is one of those people who finds it relatively easy to get along with others. Some might accredit this to his bright disposition and easy going nature. Ace generally took care of new recruits to Whitebeard’s crew, especially those in his own division. After reuniting with Luffy, Ace got to spend time with the Straw-Hat crew. Politely thanking them for taking care of his troublesome little brother. Ace enjoyed spending time with the crew, learning about the people who Luffy had taken as his chosen family, though amidst them, there was one person that stood out in particular and that is {Name}. Ace couldn’t really list a happening, a reason why or how. It just happened. He found them intriguing, and his curiosity blossomed into fondness until he realized that maybe his feelings had dug themselves deeper than he realized.

🔥Ace really sat on his reasoning, pondering and continuously trying to think about whether or not he should confess. They aren’t part of the same crew and that alone could cause some issues if {Name} agreed to his confession. He knew that they were loyal to Luffy, and wouldn’t leave although the same could be said for Ace and the Whitebeard pirates. Ace hated the ambiguous feelings of discomfort it stirred in him, should there be a clear distinction, a clear line drawn to find where they stand. Should issues be faced only after they have arisen? Where there was a will there was a way and Ace decided no matter the outcome, he wanted to assure himself that he did what he could with what he has.

🔥 As with everything, Ace decided to go in with all the passion he has. Not to be mistaken, he bolstered himself with confidence, yet found himself unable to completely calm the raging nerves. Sweaty palms, shaking hands, the ideal starter pack for a low simmering anxiety. Ace swallowed the fear and doubts before telling {Name} about his feelings. It became an onslaught of words and praises, non logical, highly emotive reasoning that truly came from the heart. The purest form of honesty that [Name} had ever seen with Ace’s confession. Even watching how his face increasingly grew more red with every passing moment of him becoming more bashful when listening to himself. Though he still did not stop.

🔥 {Name} needed a moment to process everything that Ace said, they easily understood the gist of it. Ace liked them, bordering love. The word itself was never mentioned, Ace’s actions spoke volumes however and seemed to confirm the fact. He never once turned away and faced them head on, his courage and confidence both were highly commendable and likable. {Name} wanted to answer him properly. To return Ace’s confession with as much sincerity that he had confessed with. They asked for a moment, apologizing for the underlying stress they notably caused Ace. He smiled, the idea that {Name} was willing to put so much thought was already promising enough.

🔥 Ace acted as if he was alright and while he told {Name} to take whatever time they needed, he still felt it was a tortuous wait in the meantime. He upheld his promise and refused to pressure them unnecessarily into a half hearted decision. {Name} looked as if they were ready to respond and Ace drew in a deep breath to steady himself. He never wanted his worry to show on the surface and always tried his hardest to only show the happier, stronger side of himself.

🔥 Accepting the confession: {Name} was not dense in the department of things like crushes nor love, however even they didn’t really notice the depth of Ace’s feelings. At least not until moments ago when he lay bare every thought and emotion he felt for them. {Name} was so touched and thankful that their own feelings were in fact mutual, Ace was hard to dislike, easier to like and probably a natural heartbreaker. Without the intention of course, {Name} inwardly laughed at the thought of the amount of people that easily fell in love with Ace’s lovely personality. “I feel the same way” {Name} admitted, the words sent Ace soaring. He honestly didn’t expect {Name} to feel the same but felt an abundance of thankfulness. Ace wrapped his arms around them in a tight hug.

🔥 Denying the confession: {Name’s} eyes seemed to reflect a world of sadness, Ace felt his heart drop. He knew this would be a refusal. He promised himself he would not be upset, and even so, it hurt more than he realized. {Name} turned him down gently, explaining that things and circumstances didn’t really allow the two of them to explore something that may or may not work out. {Name} reiterated that they appreciate Ace, and do find him pleasant to be around however not to the extent of a romantic relationship. Ace forced out a bright smile that could deceive anyone looking at it. He gave them a pat on the back telling them not to feel guilty over his one sided feelings.

Trafalgar Law

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🍄 The insufferable atmosphere of the Straw-Hat crew…Law honestly thought he would lose his mind before long. They weren’t bad people and that was part of the problem, they didn’t fit the word PIRATE. At least in his mind, Law admits he finds himself moved when listening to Luffy’s definition of a true pirate. The only place Law found any solace happened to be the crows nest. Sure he’d lose a good night’s sleep but he’d gain a few hours of peace and quiet, all to himself. Which was the plan, though {Name} had elected to take over the crow’s nest to make sure everyone could adequately rest. Including Law. Needless to say, he’s not happy about losing his only quiet spot so {Name} put forth a preposition to at least split the times. Each would take half the watch while the other one rested. Law found {Name’s} presence oddly soothing, they were a tiny, clear patch in the hurricane of the Straw-Hats. The only person who didn’t rile Law up in the wrong way or exhaust him. Spending all the time together gave Law and {Name} an opportunity to get to know one another. Law learned of their hobbies, tiny quirks and the things that they liked.

🍄 When did he start paying so much attention to them? When was the moment when Law could easily and confidently recite their favourite things? The things they dislike? When did he begin to look forward to spending time with {Name}? Law couldn’t answer these questions, it happened. Slowly, silently, until the obvious realization hit him all at once. He sighed, everytime he tried to find an answer. Every instance of that tightening sensation in his chest and the nervous feeling that churned up his stomach. Law tried again and again to diagnose himself with SOMETHING. Avoiding the obvious, the glaringly obvious answer. His ‘symptoms’ only ever flared up in {Name’s} presence. To say that this pretty much sent him into a mild existential crisis would be putting it lightly.

🍄 He had to treat it somehow, had to settle things. Well, Law desperately grappled with logic and reason against emotion that wracked his whole body with their outcry. He cursed at himself, how deeply {Name} invaded his thoughts and feelings. How they made him unbearably nervous, yet warm and comfortable all the same. The feeling of being at peace. Law hadn’t felt that in many years, he was swayed by emotions. Somehow he had enough reasoning to say confessing was the only way to clear this up. He would expose his heart and give it to {Name} (he spoke himself out of doing it literally). Surprisingly Law’s face stained red with a burning blush that coloured his ears, face and even the back of his neck. He forcefully pushed out the words of his love, and the struggle he faced when holding the feelings in. Seeing Law so fired up and ruffled felt foreign but all more genuine.

🍄 {Name} listened patiently to everything Law had to say, every word of honest thought he uttered. Some words made him seem clumsy, others poetic. {Name} had to gather themselves after such a passionate confession and insight into Law’s mind. They spent so much time together, and got to know one another in a deeper sense than most. The most unsuspecting place, the crows nest. Who ever thought it would become a place to lay everything in the open. A quiet place where their true thoughts arose in the night amidst the steadily swaying sea.

🍄 Law silently begged for {Name} to give him an answer. {Name} sat on it, thinking about it. Law all the while looked cool yet under the surface he slowly lost his mind when trying to hold it together. {Name} looked at Law and could see the subtle twitches and fidgets, how he picked at his fingers, or shifted his weight from one foot to the next. They didn’t want to keep him in suspense any longer and opted to give him a clear answer.

🍄 Accepting the confession: All of those late night conversations really gave {Name} a deeper insight into Law as a person. His insecurities, his goals and ambitions, his insecurities and what he fears. The reverse was true for {Name} as well, they told Law so much about themselves that they often stressed about if they had overshared or not. Gradually the way Law looked at them changed, the way {Name} viewed Law changed as well when a warmth and fondness grew from the comfort of his company. {Name} accepted. They wanted to pursue this, whether it was a short lived passion or a long romance, if it was with Law they needed to see where it ended up. They teased Law asking if he ever anticipated he would date a Straw-Hat.

🍄 Denying the confession: The time spent with Law had always been an honor. {Name} felt respect for the man, and companionship to the degree of being allies. They always thought they could be great friends with him. They didn’t realize the extent his feelings for them had grown or that they were romantic in nature. {Name} mustered the softest tone they possessed but clearly, and concisely turned him down with no room for reconsideration. The razor sharp blow cushioned by gentle words was another aspect of theirs Law liked. He didn’t think it would be used on him but he could love them secretly until his feelings faded. He accepted their decision and still remained at their side, even continuing the crows' nest shift sharing.

#one piece #fire fist ace #trafaglar law #roronoa zoro #trashytoastboi #one piece ace #one piece imagines #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #one piece headcanon #portgas d ace #ace x reader #sfw #fluff #law x reader #zoro x reader

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ssentimentals · 7 months

Text

crushing doubts {boo seungkwan}

pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader

prompt: 'you brought me flowers?' (this work is part of my 1k event, go check out other works of mine here)

warnings: generally none as it is fluff, but reader is very insecure and struggles with self-worth so please be mindful if these themes trigger you!

a loud laugh echoes in the hall and you freeze, unmistakenly recognizing source of this sound. only one person's laughter makes your heart do this stupid fluttery thing that reddens your cheeks and dries out your throat. it's seungkwan, of course. seungkwan is the you had crush on since the very first day of college and seungkwan is also happens to be the very same boy who told you that he likes you three days ago. he also is the boy who you've been steadily avoiding for the past three days. today should have been day number four of your avoidance, but universe obviously does not favor you that much; you knew your luck would run out sooner or later. looking around in source of escape, with growing horror you realize that there's really nowhere to go apart from turning back to your previous class and-

'-our professor almost had a heart attack! i kind of did feel bad though- oh.'

that oh makes you want to shrink up and disappear, but some things are not possible no matter how much you wish for them. you stand frozen on the spot, caught like a deer in highlights and although you're looking at the ground, you can feel seungkwan's eyes on you. don't come close, you beg for him in your mind. please, oh please, don't make a show, just act like i'm not here. it seems like universe does favor you still because seungkwan continues his speech and passes you in a blink, not sparing you a second glance. it takes few seconds for him and dino to pass and you wait for few more just in case before rushing out of that space. stupid, stupid, stupid. guilt and blame battle in yur head as you rush back to your room, not noticing anything around you. see, anxiety is a dirty, dirty liar and you're aware of that. it's just sometimes it's really hard to pull yourself out of those negative thoughts and self-blaming, sometimes it's hard to catch yourself at the moment before spiraling.

once in the safe quarters of your room, you feel tiredness overwhelm you as thoughts come back to seungkwan. you like him, of course. how can you not? how can anyone not? he's sunshine, he's warm and loving and always mindful of others. he is loud, he incredibly entertaining but in a way that is never offensive to someone else. he is handsome also with his baby cheeks and big dark eyes that stare at you with all the care in the world. and above it all, he is kind. oh, he is so kind that you don't udnerstand how so much generosity and empathy can all be placed into a one person. that's why - that's exactly why - you don't understand how someone like him could possibly fall for someone like you. everything about is so painstakingly normal and average, not nearly enough to hold attention of someone like seungkwan. you don't think he played a joke on you when he confessed - no, he's not that cruel, you are sure. but you also can't believe him; if it's not a joke, maybe it's something else? you never really thought much about his actions towards you: seungkwan was as kind and nice to you as he is to everyone else.

why would he say that he likes you then? why would he confess?

you didn't have any explanation for these questions. what could he like? you were never someone popular and never had line of secret admirers behind your back. seungkwan looks like someone who deserves another sunshine of the person standing next to him, but in your head you'll only deem his light. fingers picking at the hem of your oversized hoodie, you think of most memorable interactions of you both together and with a startle you realize that seungkwan always, always went out of his way to make you feel good about yoursef: ('whoa, you are so smart!' seungkwan gushed, staring at your completed exam paper. 'you really are a genius, huh?'

blushing, you shaked your head. 'no, i'm just-'

'you're the first one to finish,' seungkwan interrupted in a flat voice, pointing out obvious. 'you're always first one to finish and you get the best grades. what is it called if not being smart?')

or how he always somehow knew about interactions with your other friends and he'd always point out how you help them out or how highly they speak of you: ('you are very loved,' seungkwan's voice held too much emotion for you to be able to look in his eyes. 'your friends love you a lot.'

warm fuzzy feeling filled your chest and you smiled. 'i love them too.'

seungkwan chuckled at this and you finally dared to look up, willing your heart to start beating so fast. he stared at you with incomprehensible softness and part of you thought he looked almost fond, but another part immediately dispersed that idea. 'good. i'm happy that you're surrounded by people you love and who love you back.')

he always striked conversations with you first and themes varied from latest gossips to the most random facts ever, all to keep you entertained: ('did you know that crocodiles cannot stick their tongue out?' seungkwan seemed to be fascinated by this new knowledge. 'poor guys.'

'why would they need to stick their tongues out?' you wondered out loud, smiling a little as he quickly fell into the step with you, your shoulders bumping at each other a little. 'i don't think you have history next, why are coming with me?'

'to not let you get bored, of course,' seungkwan replied like it's obvious. 'and because i love your company. but also because i just learned that fact and really needed someone to tell.')

you smile at your last memory before biting your lower lip in frustration. because i love your company. could it be true? your company was nothing special. surely not special enough for seungkwan to even consider wasting his time in walking you to your lecture even if that's exactly what he did. groaning at complete misunderstanding of it all, you grab your blanket, throwing yourself at the bed with a huff. when you close your eyes that fateful day from three days ago comes into your mind. (he caught you off guard when you were going back home and you didn't think anything much at first, because seungkwan has that tendency of coming up unexpectedly; but then you started to get worry as he looked nervous. 'is everything okay?' you asked with your heart at your throat. seungkwan never looked nervous and in turn it grated on your own nerves. 'something happened?'

'no-no, everything is fine,' he quickly reassured you and even smiled, staring at you with that same gaze that looked almost fond. 'always caring, aren't you?' before you could comprehend this and somehow answer, he continued: 'i just thought i- i feel like i gotta come clean cause i have this feeling that you're not- like, you're not... getting... the hints, you know?'

you paled at those words. not getting something is one of your biggest fears, not being smart, not being good enough- 'hints?' you asked in a small voice, trying your hardest not to overthink.

'see, this is what i'm talking about,' seungkwan shook his head and dread filled your body. 'i knew you had no idea, boys kept pestering me to just be direct, so here i am.' he took one look at you and sighed. 'even right now you don't get where i'm going with this, don't you?'

you hated bad news. god, you hated them with everything in you and only option was to run. 'i need to go,' you muttered, trying to come up with something, but lying never was a strong suit of yours. 'um, i gotta-'

'i like you.')

your eyes shot open at the sound of the knock. a tentative one at first, but then more firm. sick feeling at the pit of your stomach increased as your gut whispers who exactly is standing behind that door. you can pretend to be asleep. that's what you were going to do anyway, right? so it wouldn't be a lie. seungkwan calls out your name from the other side of the door and you sit up, shocked. why he's not on the lecture now? did something happen? before you can even process those thoughts you're up and opening the door, staring at seungkwan with worried eyes, looking him all over. physically he seems to be fine, but his face carries such a grim expression that you step back on instinct. 'can i come in?' he asks in a quite voice.

'sure,' you move automatically, closing the door behind him with trembling fingers.

god, he is here to confront you, isn't he? confrontation is something you always managed to avoid but it looks like there's no escaping this one now. seungkwan doesn't look angry, so you hope for the best. 'i came to apologize.'

these words make all the mindless and negative thoughts inside your head come to a halt. apologize? 'for what?' you ask, sincerely confused.

'i think i made you really uncomfortable with my whole 'i like you' thing,' he says, looking serious and dejected. 'that was not my intention.'

that's when you notice them. beautiful, white and green. seungkwan held flowers behind his back, hiding them like little kids do. it's an adorable sight, it swells your heart until it grows too big for your chest. your silence doesn't deter seungkwan as he goes on: 'i won't take my words back, i do like you. but i am sorry if i were too direct.'

ball's on your side and it'd be really good to say something right now. weirdly enough all thoughts - even the negative and mean ones, the ones that tear you down and make you feel worthless - fly out of your head and you can't concentrate on anything apart from those flowers. you were pretty sure that they were for you and just- no one ever gifted you flowers before. never. the urge to receive them, to hold them in your hands is so strong, it makes you blink and look up at seungkwan, only one question falling from your lips: 'you brought me flowers?'

seungkwan chokes on his words and wordlessly nods, quickly handing them to you. with awe and feeling like you're accepting something very important and big, you take the flowers from his hands, pulling them closer. they smell like spring rain, like the butterflies in your stomach, like all your hopes growing big. flower stems itch between your fingers but you don't mind it at all. 'i- these are not like 'i'm sorry' flowers, by the way. these are more 'i appreciate you' flowers.' you turn to seungkwan in surprise and he fumbles with words, getting shy. 'does that make sense? i mean, i'm not giving them to you so you'd forgive them, i wanted to give you flowers cause...'

he drifts off but you know what he wanted to say. cause it looks like you've never been given them before. and that would be the truth. you almost say it for him when he adds: 'cause i just wanted to. you do so much, you help me so much and i wanted to let you know that i appreciate it. i thought flowers would be good but now..' he scratches back of his neck unsurely. 'now it seems like a bad idea.'

you shake your head, unable to hide your smile. cause i just wanted to. what if... what if there's a tiny, super tiny chance that all of your thoughts shouting at you and calling you unworthy for him are not true? what if universe favors you, what if you are her favorite and she sent seungkwan for you specifically? 'you like me,' you say, not question. seungkwan looks surprised but nods nonetheless. and nods so confidently that your doubts start to crumble. 'why?'

it's not a question to get praise for an answer. you're not fishing for compliments and seungkwan knows it. he smiles, shaking your head. 'you are so attentive to everyone else but so blind for your own self, it actually is concerning,' he mutters quietly but you still hear him. seungkwan takes a breath: 'i like you because you are caring, and smart, and kind. and you always help me and others, and i don't know, you are funny and did i say kind already?'

this feels like a dream. you listen to him and he lists those things that are not about you, they can't be about you - it's more like seungkwan is describing himself. but he is not cruel, you remind yourself, and he is not a liar. seungkwan really does mean it all about you and your heart might burst from all the emotions.

'and i don't want to seem shallow and sound like i'm looking only at physicality, but i mean, appereance one you're reaaally easy on the eye-' he suddenly stops, alert. '- is everything okay?'

there's moisture on your cheeks and with a loud squeak you realize that you're crying. hurrying up to wipe the tears, you press flowers right up your face and their smell invades your nose. spring rain. butterflies in your stomach. hope. seungkwan looks mildly terrified and you take a steadying breath, trying to calm down. it's shameful to start crying from that but tears actually felt good. 'i was not lying,' he suddenly says, stepping closer. 'but i can stop if it's too much.'

seungkwan's so considerate that it makes your heart ache. 'i know you weren't lying,' you say just to put him at ease. 'sorry that i got so emotional-'

'no, don't apologize,' he interrupts, carefully reaching out to wipe few tears himself. 'you're feeling okay?'

you listen to yourself intently: are you okay? there's no war of anxiety vs logic happening inside, so you're experiencing any stress. it's actually rather rare for you to feel as peaceful as you do right now. 'i'm fine,' you hear yourself say and it's true. and then, making eye contact with seungkwan, you say in an unexpected wave of bravery: 'thank you. for flowers and those words. no one... no one ever said anything like this before. or gave me flowers.'

seungkwan's face is carefully blank but before you still noticed spark of surprise and bewilderment as if notion of no one giving you flowers or telling you these words seemed incomprehensible to him. 'i...' he starts, carefully eyeing you. 'i can help you like you help me.'

'help me with what?' you ask quietly already knowing the answer.

'to be kinder to yourself,' he responds. 'you'll see yourself through my eyes and that image will crush all the doubts you have in your head about yourself.'

maybe universe loves you in reality. because how else can you explain seungkwan's existence in your life? feeling this kind of peace is so rare for you and you crave that feeling all the time. what if seeing yourself from his eyes is exactly what you need?

'okay,' you breathe out before you can change your mind.

seungkwan lights up and nods. 'okay,' he agrees readily.

maybe seungkwan came right at the moment when you needed him the most. came with flowers that smell like spring rain, and butterflies in the stomach, and hope.

a/n: i wrote this down in one sitting and i'm sorry if this got too sad, but i hope by the end of it all of you are smiling. thank you for reading this! - nini

tagging @prpldahy

#seventeen imagine #seventeen fluff #seventeen reaction #seungkwan #seventeen seungkwan #boo seungkwan #seventeen boo seungkwan #svt seungkwan #seventeen #seventeen fic #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan scenarios #seungkwan au #you all deserve someone like seungkwan in your life!!!#this is not proof read by the way sorry for the mistakes

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lild00td00t · 8 months

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Hi!! First, I love your work. Especially for the Marines.

Second I saw requests were open so I decided to shoot my shot.

Admirals (any admiral you want to write for) trying to get their s/o to return Sengoku’s goat, like reader of fed up not getting cuddles from their busy admiral partner so has stolen the goat for cuddles and is refusing to give it back.

I just thought it was a cute idea. And now that I think about it I can’t remember the name of Sengoku’s goat.

Anyway, you are amazing, stay hydrated and I hope you have a nice day.

Marine Admirals React to You Harboring Sengoku’s Goat

Characters: Akainu, Kizaru, Fujitora

Taglist: @portalzoneschaos

This was so adorable to think about, I hope it wrote it right though. Thank you so much for being here and requesting, Have a nice day and be safe. <3

Akainu | Sakazuki

• At first he would disregard your reasoning behind stealing Sengokus goat, his first instinct is to chide you and get you to return it but much to his surprise, you don’t listen, and simply turn away to coddle the animal closer to you.

“ I said you need to give it back. “

You could feel heat of his devil fruit begin to fill the room at your refusal of his command. He stood with arms folded over his chest, the tightness of his teeth clenching together creating a grating noise.

“ And I said no! Just because you don’t get lonely doesn’t mean I don’t! “ The brash tone of your voice as you asserted yourself shocked him, and briefly his brows unfurled before he knelt down. He was silent, watching as you hid your face and only held the animal closer and coiled into a tight ball on your bed.

“ Use your words. Tell me what’s wrong. “ He spoke in a firm tone, but you knew he was trying to decode your behavior. Sometimes he was just emotionally constipated..

“ I’m lonely. You’re always gone and.. I miss you. “ Your tone dropped at the end and transitioned to a mumble, barely audible which made his frown deepen. You fought not to make eye contact when he didn’t respond, but got sidetracked when his hand softly pushed through your locks as he leaned down to leave a kiss.

“ I know I don’t have much time on my hands. There’s not much I can do about it. So how can I fix it? “ He sat attentively in front of you now, legs crossed and hands resting on his knees as he watched you sit up.

“Well.. maybe you could make allotted times to call me.. I miss your voice a lot.” You timidly spoke as your hands fidgeted at the request, bracing yourself for another excuse only for him to briefly nod.

“ I’ll look at my schedule and work it in. That way, it’s not impacting work and we have some form of time together. Is that fair ? “

“ … Yes. “

“ Good…. Now please get the goat off of our bed and out of the house. “

Kizaru | Borsalino

• Gets jealous of the goat-

• He would profusely apologize to you for being so busy, and obviously he would feel alittle guilty, but his Justice means that when he’s told to do something he does it. So in many ways work comes first, however….. he offers you something to help ease your anxiety about being alone.. ;)

The house was dark as usual when Kizaru slipped in, his coat slung over his shoulder and hand grazing the back of his neck as he rubbed it in fatigue. He almost managed to sit on you until a warning bleat startled him from his thoughts, and you from your slumber.

“ Shh !! “ You soothed the goat, rubbing its neck as you looked up to the source of its panic. Kizaru stood motionless, sighing deeply as he pushed the glasses back up that slipped to the tip of his nose from gazing down at you.

“ Why is there a goat on the couch? “

“ Because he was wandering around and looked lonely, and he pays more attention to me then you do. “ You muttered the last part, smiling when Kizarus hand playfully ruffled your hair.

He took a seat beside you, his smile growing when you curled into his side and hugged him, relieved at finally getting to feel him next to you. When you did manage to get attention it was in the later hours of the night, only to wake up again to the vacant spot next to you in the early mornings. It wasn’t easy being an Admirals spouse, in fact it was alittle lonely at times. But there were tid bits of moments where you were inseparable, and all you could do was appreciate each others presence.

This was one of them.

“ I miss you so much throughout the day. It’s so.. lonely here, the house is huge and it feels like I’m just some tiny bug.. “ A sigh breezed past your lips and you leaned into the warmth of his shoulder as he hummed in response, wrapping an arm around you as he leaned in to kiss your head.

He remained silent, his hand absentmindedly stroking your hair until he spoke.

“ … I could always get you pregnant- “

“ BORSALINO ? “ You shouted in confusion and astonishment, immediately pulling away which had startled the goat who bolted from the couch. A low, sultry chuckle escaped his lips as he rested his head on the back of the couch agian and closed his eyes, spreading his wing span along the top of the furniture.

“ Just a thought.. “

Fujitora | Issho

• I feel he would honestly be alittle sad that he let you get so lonely, his poor heart would break at the thought of you feeling so alone that you needed to focus your attention on something else.

• His solution would most likely be buying a pet <3

When he arrived home he noted how quiet it was while slipping his shoes off. As he traveled deeper into your home he heard you stifle a small sniffle, which immediately broke his heart in two.

“ Oh my poor dear, “ He reached out to touch you only to feel horns and a soft furry face that began to snuff at his fingers. You couldn’t help but laugh when he retracted quickly, his eyes opening with a visibly disturbed look appearing on his face.

When you made room for him to sit he instead pulled you into his lap and cupped your face. The feeling of the course pads of his thumbs running along your cheeks made them flush and you unconsciously leaned into his touch, tears subconsciously falling and collecting on his hands.

“ Poor thing.. I know I haven’t been home in so long.. how did you even manage to get uh… did you get a pet ? “

“ It’s Sengokus goat.. I’m not gonna give it back until you promise me I won’t be lonely anymore.. “ You shakily spoke, eyes still closed as he leaned in to kiss your forehead and wipe the tears that flowed away.

“ … Well.. I can’t guarantee that you won’t have moments alone.. So how about this, let’s go buy a pet. That way, when I’m away, you have someone to wait with. “

“ Any pet I want ? “

“ Any pet you want… just not Sengoku’s. “

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nightingale-ghost-writer · 1 year

Text

Your Wildest Dreams [Soap x Fem!Reader]

Summary: In a mission gone wrong, you and Soap have to hole up in a safehouse, trying to stay warm during the cold Russian winter

Author’s Note: Not me thirsting after Soap for 5.1K words instead of finishing the companion piece I started for Maybe… also, my first ever shot at writing reader-insert! Anyway, here’s a really plot-lacking, self-serving piece for anyone interested

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or events from Modern Warfare

Warnings: Language, canon-typical violence, extremely suggestive, borderline smutty? No actual explicit smut, but let’s call it NSFW to be safe

Shrike /SHrīk/ noun

a songbird with a strong sharply hooked bill, often impaling its prey of small birds, lizards, and insects on thorns

a 10-foot (3-meter), 400-pound (180-kilogram) U.S. air-to-ground missile designed to destroy missile batteries by homing in on their radar emissions

Icy water enveloped you. Pinpricks instantly broke out under your skin, dancing through your blood and your bones. For a blessed moment, your mind went blank. Then, survival instinct kicked in. You kicked your already numbing legs as hard as you could, launching yourself back toward the night sky. Just as you thought your lungs might burst, you broke the surface, gulping in the crisp mountain air. It burned the back of your throat as you bobbed in the current, trying to get your bearings.

What should have been an hour-long intel collection mission had gone to shit in less than a minute.

You and Soap had been dispatched to a safehouse of Makarov’s in the Russian countryside to gather intel. You were anxious- excited to be out with Soap, nervous about the actual infiltration. Soap’s signature flirting melted that anxiety quickly. It was one of the reasons you enjoyed missions with him so much… and one of the reasons you got so flustered around him.

Tensions with Russia were high, so rather than sending a full team, the pair of you had been dropped off by helo three clicks from the site. You’d go in, get the intel, get to the safehouse, and wait for evac. Barring any immediate danger, you’d be holed up there overnight, hiking out early the next morning to be picked up. Price was unhappy about sending you in without comms or backup, but Laswell was concerned with radio traffic and her sources had told her it would be empty.

Laswell’s sources had been wrong.

You’d taken a long, cold hike up the frozen mountainside to a deteriorating stone building that might at one time have been a castle, but was now little more than half-crumbled walls and hastily built wooden shacks. There had been no indicators that anything was amiss- no footprints in the snow, no pings on Soap’s heartbeat sensor, no noise. Laswell’s intel had seemed good.

Then you’d opened the door to one of the shacks and been met with a full squad of soldiers. They clearly hadn’t been expecting you, and you had the distinct advantage. Before they could react, you’d grabbed the nearest soldier, using him as a human shield while you put him in a headlock. Soap had sprung past you, shooting two others before ducking behind a desk. An overeager and overconfident soldier had fired several shots at you, nearly grazing your arm, but killing his teammate in the process. Soap had lunged at him, baring him to the ground and stabbing a combat knife deep into his throat.

The three remaining soldiers raised their weapons, shouting to each other. You’d killed one with a well-placed throwing knife as you threw yourself behind a table and watched in horror as another launched himself at Soap. You raised your gun, but there was no clean shot with them grappling as they were. Then, you were blindsided by the last soldier. He leapt at you as you tried to line up a shot on his teammate, knocking your gun to the ground and grabbing one of your wrists.

Instinct took over as you wrestled, and before you knew what was happening, you and your attacker were flying through the nearby window. You both rolled down a steep, snowy hill toward a frothing river, each trying to get the upper hand. Before either of you could, you went straight into the icy river, sinking instantly. Luckily, you recovered first.

After taking a moment to breathe, you dove back underwater, looking around for your attacker. He was close enough to reach out and touch, back to you as he tried to get to the surface for a breath of air. You swam toward him, wrapped an arm around his shoulders to hoist yourself up, and stabbed him. Once in the neck, once in the ribs, and then once in the chest for good measure. His body had gone limp at the first thrust, but you couldn’t be too safe.

As soon as his body floated out of your arms, you realized the bigger issue- the current, and the cold. You were already being dragged downstream, the tide splashing over your head and threatening to pull you back under. You swam for the bank, but your progress was minimal. Your muscles were already starting to freeze up. You looked around frantically, desperate for something to hold onto. Just as your fingers met with a sharp rock, you heard Soap’s voice calling your name.

You looked up to see him scrambling down the hill, sliding on snow and loose bits of shale. Blood dripped from his temple and he seemed to be cradling his arm to his chest. You tried to pull yourself out of the water to meet him on the banks, but your muscles refused to work. The icy water was doing its work and you could feel your body beginning to shut down.

“Soap,” you called weakly. He had almost reached you. “I can’t move.”

He waded waist deep into the water, reaching out for you with the arm that wasn’t held carefully to his side. “‘S alright, hen, I’ve got you. Take my hand.” You shakily, slowly, tried to reach for him, barely managing to brush the tips of your fingers against his, and he managed to lean just a bit further out to wrap his hand around yours. He tugged you toward him, and after a moment, was pulling you into his side. “You’re freezing, Shrike,” he murmured, rubbing your arm for a moment. You were shivering violently, barely able to move.

“I am,” you said, teeth chattering. “Your head.” Soap waved you off as he looked around, gaze settling in the direction of the town where you were supposed to wait for evac.

“The intel-”

Soap cut you off, shaking his head. “Forget the intel. Price said if anything went wrong, we get to the safehouse.” His eyes scanned your body, looking for any injuries, as his hand rubbed over your arms. “Are you okay? Can you make it back to town?” You nodded, your violent shaking making it nearly impossible to tell. You reached for his wrist, pressing on it gently. You were no medic, but it didn’t feel broken to you.

You held his wrist with one hand as the other reached up to wipe the blood from his temple. “You okay?” you asked. He winced as you wiped at the blood, but nodded. You breathed a sigh of relief when only a shallow cut was visible.

“Just a sprain,” he said. He pulled his wrist carefully from your grip and unzipped his jacket, pulling it off.

“W-what are you-”

“You need it more than me,” he said. He walked around behind you, tucking you into the jacket before zipping you up in it.

“You’ll freeze,” you protested. Soap only shook his head, offering a lopsided smile.

“I’ll be fine. Let’s go.”

You were afraid your legs would refuse to move, but were so grateful when they didn’t. The warmth that bloomed in your chest at Soap’s sacrifice warmed you more than the jacket itself, although it did keep out the worst of the biting wind. You both trudged through the snow toward the village, teeth chattering and bone-cold. You walked in relative quiet, broken only by Soap’s soft inquiries.

“How’re you holding up, hen?”

“I can’t feel my toes, Soap.” “Hang in there, Shrike. We’re almost to the safehouse.”

As the town came into view, your vision began to swim. You’d been given the safehouse address. Now you just had to find it so you could lie down and bundle up until Price could send someone to get you.

You breathed a sigh of relief as Soap found the house, prying off one of the address numbers to reveal a key. He opened the door, revealing a tiny studio. It took less than a minute to clear- the only room with a door was the bathroom. While Soap dug out the radio system hidden under the sink, you turned the heater on full blast and looked for blankets. You found a pile in a cupboard, dropped them onto the foot of the bed, and headed toward the kitchen in search of a kettle to heat some water.

You only vaguely heard Soap talking to Price through the fog in your mind, something about getting some rest and pickup in the morning. Then, very suddenly, you found yourself looking up at the ceiling, wondering when you’d stopped shivering.

“Shrike? Shite!” You only realized you’d fallen when Soap pulled you upright. “Shrike?” He raised one hand to your neck, feeling for your pulse. He cursed under his breath, muttering in an unintelligibly thick Scottish accent as he hauled you up against his chest. You were vaguely aware of being carried into the small bathroom and deposited on the countertop there. You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting to stay awake. You were suddenly so sleepy.

You opened your eyes when you heard a squelching sound, freezing as you watched Soap strip off his clothes. You’d seen him without a shirt, but only in passing in the halls on base. Never this close, and never with no one around to check your gaze. Nevertheless, you’d memorized his scars the last time you saw his bare chest. He had some new ones since then. You stared at his rippling muscles as he unbuttoned his pants, peeling the wet material off his toned legs, leaving him standing in front of you in nothing but his dog tags and boxers. You tried not to stare at the outline you could see in the fabric as he took one step toward you to stand between your legs. Then his hands were on his jacket, the one you were wearing, pulling the zipper down and your arms out of it.

“Stay with me, Shrike,” he murmured. His hands shook as he unbuckled your tac vest and pulled it off. You raised your arms as he pulled up your hoodie, then your shirt, leaving you i n just a sports bra. You let your own hands rest on his chest as you lowered them.

You giggled, tracing patterns across his pecs and down his ribs. His muscles jumped under your fingertips. “What are you doing, Johnny?”

His cheeks reddened as he glanced up, dutifully keeping his eyes on the task at hand as he hastily pulled off your boots and pants.

“I’m trying to get you warm,” he said. “What are you doing?”

“Checking you out,” you said boldly, arching an eyebrow at him and smiling. You weren’t sure where the confidence had come from, but you’d had a crush on him since day one and you’d be damned if you didn’t make the most of this opportunity. He had just reached up to grip your hips and he faltered for a moment before pulling you down off the counter. He turned you around, walking you toward the bed with his hands on your waist until pulling back the covers. Soap sat, pulling you down between his legs and back against his chest. He pulled up the extra blankets, wrapping them around both of your shoulders. You giggled again, wiggling back against him as his arms wound around you. You couldn’t tell whether he shuddered or whether it was just his shivering. You’d started to shiver again, yourself.

“Stay with me,” he repeated. His body trembled around you, proof that he probably should have kept his jacket after all. His hands rubbed your shoulders, occasionally tracing the straps of your sports bra, and he curled his legs up, bringing yours with them. His knees held yours together and he shifted one arm down to circle your waist, keeping your back pressed to his chest and your hips connected. One hand brushed your hip and he tilted his head so that his chin rested in the crook of your shoulder. His hold on you was tight, but reassuring. You savored the way you fit perfectly in his embrace.

Your bare skin felt numb, even under the pile of blankets.

Everywhere Soap’s skin touched felt scalded.

“You’re so hot,” you murmured.

You felt as much as heard when Soap chuckled low in his chest. “I’m actually freezing.” His voice shook when he spoke.

You leaned your head back on his shoulder, turning so that your cheek touched his. “You know that’s not what I meant,” you whispered.

“I know,” he smiled, eyes fixed on some point across the room. “I’m just trying to save you from saying things you don’t mean, so you don’t regret them later.”

When you cocked your head at him, shifting in his arms to better face him, his smile dropped. “C’mon, Shrike, don’t make this any harder than it already is.” Hope flared in your chest like a bonfire. Your mind ran through all the possibilities of that statement, and every one of them suggested attraction to your lovesick mind. You stared blankly at him and he tipped his head back against the headboard, heaving a sigh. “I’m sure Gaz would be none too pleased if I made a move on you when you were only flirting because of hypothermia.”

“Gaz..?” You didn’t understand what Gaz had to do with Soap making a move on you, and you were too confused to focus on either the fact that he said that he might, or that he had just admitted he knew you were flirting with him. Your heart beat wildly in your chest. You barely dared to breathe.

Soap’s face flamed as he looked away. He had stopped shivering so badly, but his voice still shook a bit when he spoke. “You and Gaz. I know you’re… well, something. I’d never-”

You hadn’t imagined it. Your snort cut him off. “Gaz and I are friends, that’s it.” Now it was Soap’s turn to stare blankly. You fought to speak normally, not with the giddy optimism you felt. “Remember the day Price introduced me to you all? Gaz was the first one to shake my hand, and then he showed me around base? I knew right off the bat that Ghost didn’t trust me and I thought you wouldn’t either, since you two were clearly so close.”

That brought a smile out of Soap. As much as Ghost tried to play it off, the two had definitely become good friends over their time working together. Soap loved to flaunt his position as the resident boogeyman’s right hand, to anyone who would listen. But mostly to the boogeyman himself.

You turned again, snuggling closer into his hold. His arms tightened around you, almost imperceptibly. “Anyway, yeah- Gaz was my first friend. But he’s just my friend. Nothing more than that. You and Ghost are Batman and Robin, Gaz and I are Mario and Luigi.” Soap barked a laugh, and you grinned.

When his cold nose nudged behind your ear, you couldn’t even pretend your shudder was from the cold. You gathered the last of your courage, waning with the arctic chill in your bones, but bolstered by his near-confession. “So tell me, Sergeant.” You’d lowered your voice, turning up all the charm you possessed. “What am I making ‘harder than it needs to be’?” Soap froze, and panic washed over you like water as cold as the river you’d come out of. He hadn’t been confessing anything. It had been nothing more than his usual firefight flirting, harmless and silly and just a little cocky and oh-so-hot and why would you ever think he could actually be interested in you and-

Soap flipped you, one arm around your waist as he lay between your legs, propped up by the elbow next to your shoulder. Before your mind could catch up with what was happening, he leaned down, lips a hairs’ breadth from yours, and hesitated. It was the longest and shortest second of your life. You could feel his warm breath on your parted lips as his eyes scanned your face, looking for any sign of hesitation. You half expected him to lean back up, all mischievous smile and twinkling eyes, and tease you. He knew. He knew how you felt and he was going to mock you for it. Then he leaned down, eyes fluttering shut. His lips brushed yours softly, barely touching, and your mind went blessedly quiet. Your body responded of its own accord; your knees came up, framing his waist and squeezing lightly; one hand went to his bicep, lightly grasping there; the other slid to the back of his neck.

You pulled him closer.

The kiss turned feral in a heartbeat.

The arm around your waist tightened, pulling you half up off the bed, as he let more of his body weight rest against you. His tongue traced the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. You happily gave it. Your tongues slid together, fighting for dominance as you each tried to deepen the kiss even more. You raised a leg, wrapping it around his waist, and he groaned your name into your mouth. When you pulled on his mohawk, his head fell to your neck as he sucked softly on your collarbone.

“Johnny,” you breathed. He swore, lifting his head to kiss you again. He pulled his arm out from under you, running a warm hand across your bare skin from your hip to the back of your knee where it wrapped around him, before wrenching you up against him. You gasped at what you felt. If you’d had any doubt before, there was none now- Johnny was packing. You could feel the heat of him through both your underwear and his boxers. Time seemed to slow as he rocked gently against you, pressing his forehead to yours as your hands cradled the back of his head. He was panting, pressing light kisses against your face. He dropped his head to your shoulder, tucking his face into your neck. He seemed to be steeling himself, trying desperately not to move.

“Not kissing you,” he whispered. It took you a moment to think through the haze of lust and realize he was answering your earlier question. “What am I making harder than it needs to be?” “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Some of your earlier boldness had returned, shored up by his clear physical response. “Only that?” you whispered back.

The groan of your name on his lips was the single most beautiful thing you’d ever heard.

“What?” you teased. “That’s all you want?”

He tugged at the back of your knee again, pressing you against himself. You both stifled moans. “You know damn well that’s not all I want. I want you. All of you.” He turned his head, ghosting his lips against your cheek. “I’ve wanted all of you from the moment you asked me why a ghost would need soap.”

You started, turning his head with your hands so you could look into his eyes. “That’s the first thing I ever said to you.” He nodded, gaze unflinching. His eyes smoldered, but there was a softness in them you’d only seen a handful of times over the years. When your brother joined the military, following in your footsteps. When your best friend’s husband cheated on her. When your mother died. Any time you’d cried in his arms.

“T-that was the day we first met,” you stuttered out. Again, he nodded solemnly. He turned his head in your hands, kissing your palm.

“I knew right away,” he whispered. Soap had laughed, a fully belly laugh, and clapped you on the back. Ghost had rolled his eyes, and you’d hoped his reservations about you would fade. Not only so you could get closer to the devilishly handsome, charming Sargeant who followed his every step. When you didn’t say anything, he released your leg, mumbling apologies and sitting back on his heels. The loss of his body weight and heat, along with the blankets, made you shiver all over again. Johnny didn’t see it- he was running his hands over his face, head hanging. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… I had no right, please forgive me-”

You reached out a hand, grasping his wrist to stop him from retreating any further. “Forgive you for what?” you asked softly. His face was pained as he struggled to hold your stare.

“For taking advantage,” he began. But you shook your head, reaching out your other hand to touch his cheek. You didn’t think he even realized that he leaned into your touch.

“You didn’t take advantage of anything.” You scooted forward on your knees, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. You leaned up, kissing along his jaw, before licking a stripe of skin just behind his ear. He trembled under your touch as you ran a hand down his arm and pressed yourself against him. “I want you, too. So you should take me.”

“Steamin’-,” Soap groaned your name. “You can’t just say that to me,” he whined, breathless. His fists were clenched, eyes squeezed shut as your fingertips skimmed his skin.

“And why’s that?” you teased. You were sure that nothing could ever match the rush you were getting from his reactions to you.

“Because,” he ground out. He’d lost the fight to keep his hands off and they now rested on your hips, intermittently squeezing the flesh and hovering. His pupils were blown, nearly eclipsing his irises. You’d never seen hunger like that in your life and it set you on fire. “If I start with you, I won’t be able to stop.” His voice was lower, hoarse. Desperate.

You scooted forward until your knees touched his, pressing as much of your body against his as you could. His entire body quivered in his struggle not to devour you whole. You dragged your lips up the column of his throat, pausing when they brushed the shell of his ear. “Then I suggest, Sergeant, that you don’t stop.”

Johnny didn’t need to be told twice.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You woke up to a soft thudding sound in your ear. You were so comfortable that you didn’t want to move, but then you remembered you were on the field. Your head snapped up, looking around the tiny room. The thudding had stopped, and when you looked down, you realized why.

You’d been sleeping with your head on Johnny’s chest, his heartbeat in your ear. His arms were still wrapped tightly around you, face turned toward yours. He looked younger asleep. No worry lines creased his handsome face, and his brows were relaxed instead of their usual serious, lowered state. His lips were just slightly parted, breath softly fanning across your shoulder.

The night came back to you in one big wave. Kissing Johnny, straddling him, holding him close between your legs, his mouth on your neck, your mouth on his shoulder, your name on his tongue, being pressed to the wall, the stretch of him, and both of your hands seemingly everywhere at once. You ached everywhere in the most delicious way. Even your throat was sore from moaning his name over and over and over again as he made good on his promise that his mouth was good for more than just talk.

Your cheeks flushed remembering.

As if sensing your racing heart and thoughts, Johnny stirred. His arms tightened around you, pulling you nearly on top of him as his eyes fluttered open. He smiled when his eyes settled on you, slow and lazy.

“I thought I dreamed all of that,” he said softly. His voice was husky with sleep, accent thicker than normal, eyes soft as he stroked your cheek with the back of his hand.

You quickly weighed whether or not you were prepared to deal with the cockiness that would come with your next statement. “Certainly good enough to be a dream,” you whispered. The grin that split Johnny’s face was instant and radiant.

“Oh, aye?” he asked. “Would you say it’s everything you’d dreamed of?”

“I love you,” he’d gasped, holding the back of your head to his shoulder as you fell apart for what must have been the tenth or hundredth time. “I love you,” he’d repeated as he lost control, trembling violently in you and in your arms. “Oh, God, I love you,” he’d whispered as you cried out his name and carried him in a vice grip right over the edge with you. You’d never dared to confront your feelings for him too deeply, refusing to dig beneath the surface of the crush you’d harbored for him. In all your wildest dreams, you’d never begun to imagine him putting to words what you felt- and never in the most intimate moment of your life.

“Better than my dreams,” you mumbled, turning your head away from his and pressing your cheek to his chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a purple bruise you’d sucked into his shoulder. You winced, raising your head to apologize, but before you could even open your mouth, Johnny turned your head and kissed you softly. You kissed him back, and then smirked as a thought crossed your mind. “Dream of me often, then?” you asked.

Johnny’s eyes darkened as he pulled you down for a searing kiss. “Every night,” he whispered. You shuddered. You could already feel his body responding beneath you as you kissed him again, smiling to yourself when he groaned. He reached for the tiny bedside table, muttering about a clock, and found the alarm there.

He turned a wicked grin toward you. “We’ve got time for round two.”

“Round two?” you shrieked. Johnny snickered as he lifted you up, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist. Round five was no less impressive than the first four, in no small part due to the added feat of Johnny holding you up against the cold shower wall while the hot water beat down on you both.

“I can’t believe,” he’d panted “That we could have been doing this all this time.”

“You should scold Gaz for getting in your way,” you’d panted back. Johnny had practically growled at that, picking up his pace.

“I’m about to scold you for saying another man’s name while I’m inside you.”

He came undone the moment you moaned his name in his ear, pulling you off the ledge with him.

By the time you’d actually managed to get clean, your clothes had miraculously dried despite laying crumpled on the tile floor all night. You were thankful as you both stepped out into the flurry of wind and snow to trudge up the hillside toward the evac point. You hiked in companionable silence, only breaking it once you could see the ridge where you’d be picked up.

“How’s your wrist?” you asked. You’d been worried about it all night, but Johnny either hadn’t been in pain or hadn’t been in enough pain to pay it any mind.

“It’ll be fine,” he answered, smiling at you over his shoulder. “How’s your… you?” You both snickered at that.

“It’ll be fine,” you parroted. Your Scottish accent was horrible, but Johnny beamed at it all the same. You were about to pull yourself up by a rock when he grabbed your wrist, nudging you until your back touched a tree. He tilted your chin up with his knuckles, lowering his head slowly to kiss you tenderly. You sighed into the kiss, reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, and he held you close by your waist. His lips tugged at yours softly, lightly dragging your bottom lip between his teeth before pulling back to look at you intensely. He seemed to be trying to memorize every inch of your face.

“We can’t tell anyone, can we?” you whispered.

For a long moment, Johnny was silent. When he finally answered, his voice was low. Sorrowful. “I don’t know,” he said.

You nodded, pasting a smile on your face even as your heart throbbed. “That’s okay. We’ll figure something out.”

He smiled back. “Yeah, we will.” Your smile felt a little more genuine after that. You trekked the last bit up the hill, and by the time you reached the top, you could hear the whir of the chopper. You shared one last longing look at each other from a respectable distance before the bird touched down. When the door opened, Ghost’s skull plate greeted you.

“You guys injured?” he shouted. You both shook your heads, clambering in and strapping yourselves into harnesses on opposite sides of the chopper. Ghost slammed the door, strapping himself in again on your side.

He stared at Soap, some look you couldn’t quite read. When you glanced to Johnny, his eyebrow was raised at his partner.

“You look like you haven’t slept in a week,” Ghost rumbled.

Soap looked to you, then back to his friend. He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “We didn’t get much rest- too cold,” he said evenly. If you didn’t know it was a lie, you’d have believed him. But something in the way Ghost held his stare told you that he didn’t. He could read everyone like a book, but especially Johnny. You needn’t have worried, though. Soap started right in on recapping the mission for his friend, chattering away as he always did, and you watched as Ghost’s shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit while he listened. His gaze flicked to you every so often, and you added to the tale where you saw fit. Ghost took your words as truth- he trusted you now, years later, after you’d proven yourself to him and the rest of the team.

You smiled to yourself. It would be good to see the rest of the team, to be back on base, in the comfort of your own bed… and you were sure Soap would find his way there, too.

#john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap #john soap mactavish x reader #cod mwii #nightingale writes

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wandamaxim0f · 2 months

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After the war — Fred Weasley

Words: 1.4k

Fred Weasley x Female reader

Tw: mentions of the war, character death, mentions of the battle of the department of mysteries, mentions of anxiety and fear

A/N: in all honesty, fred was my first fictional love, and no matter how many characters I love, I always come back to him. In the wise Taylor Swift words, "I drive down different roads, but they all lead back to you"

Fred grinned softly as he opened the door to the house the two of you had purchased not too long ago. The second big commitment both of you had made together, the first one being when he got down in one knee almost a year ago now. Planning the wedding was not something neither of you wanted to do just now, relaxing into the idea of growing up a bit more before walking down the aisle and making things as official as they could get. Besides, you and Fred already knew you were in it for the long run, so there was no rush whatsoever.

In fact, he was so sure you were the one for him, he wouldn’t have proposed when he did, as it felt like he was repeating himself when he told you he wanted to spend his whole life with you. But the war was getting worse, and he needed you to know he meant it when he said you were the love of his life and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He wanted you to know he meant it when he said he’d fight anyone and anything to get back to you if it came down to it.

“Freddie?” your voice called from the kitchen, and he took off his jacket before making his way to you.

There you were, already in your pajamas -an old pair of pants you had used to wear whenever you had an early quidditch training in school and a t-shirt you had stolen from him ages ago-, your still damp hair leaving a humid patch on the back of your tee. Your back was to the door, focused on preparing the ingredients for dinner. Turning your head now, you smiled at your fiance and his lovesick gaze.

“Hi!” you greeted, clearly happy and a smile broke into his face at the sound of your voice “How was work today?”

“It was good, a bit slow, but good” he replied, walking over you, his arms going around your waist as he dipped down his head to kiss the spot between your neck and shoulder “Kids are already at Hogwarts, so my guess is it should stay that way for another two weeks, maybe. What are you making?”

“Read about a new recipe today, carbonara. Thought we’d give it a try”

“Sounds good to me. Gonna go and take a quick shower now, baby” he added, his hands drawing circles on your stomach “Care to join?”

You laughed, leaning against him and looking up at the redhead boy, before he kissed you softly. “It won’t be a quick shower if I join you, and we’re having pasta tonight. It shouldn’t take too long for the water to boil”

Fred clicked his tongue, disappointed “Later?” he asked, kissing you again.

“Definetly. I love you” you added, and he smiled at you, so adoringly you almost melted between his strong arms.

“I love you too, forever. Can’t wait to live my whole life with you, baby” and after another kiss, he went upstairs.

He was so happy, and so in love with you. You had been the light of his life for ten years now, ever since he met you that first day of school, on your way to Hogwarts. You were always laughing at him or his jokes and pranks, and you were his biggest supporter, always ready to help him or hear him out whenever he was late with an assignment, or when he wasn’t on top of his game at a quidditch match. Eventually, as years went by, you became his biggest source of comfort under the lame excuse of friendship, and it would be normal to find the two of you tangled with each other in the common room, especially after He Who Can’t Be Named came back, your hand always toying with his hair in a way it turned him putty in your hands. Through thick and thin, you had been his rock, and he had been yours.

When George and him left during Umbridge’s reign of terror, your heart broke into a million pieces, and you had to admit to yourself it wasn’t because you’d miss them, which you would, of course, but because the idea of being at Hogwarts without Fred felt outright wrong, and those last months of school were plain torture. Exacerbated, of course, by the actual torture you had endured at the Department of Mysteries.

Fred remembered that morning clearly. He had been woken up by his mother’s scream, which had him appearing downstairs within a second, and he remembered the bile coming up his throat when she told them Ron and Ginny had been involved in a battle, and Sirius Black had been murdered by his own cousin. But nothing prepared him for when George asked who else had gone to the Ministry, and your name came out his mother’s mouth.

“What?!” he asked, his hands leaning against the couch to support his weight “How is she?”

“They’re alright, said Dumbledore, tired, and sore from torture, but they’re alright” she explained “Tonks will have to stay some days at St. Mungo’s, but she’ll be okay soon”

“T– torture?”

George’s hand squeezed his shoulder, in a sign of silent support. He was worried too, for his siblings, for Hermione and Harry, but also for you. You were one of his favorite people, and he knew how much you meant to Fred even if he hadn’t said anything. He knew his twin, and knew his heart skipped a beat whenever he saw you.

“She’ll be alright” he told him.

He knew that. You were tough, and brave, and determined; qualities he never paid much attention to, finding your kindness, patience and charisma more interesting; but he felt as if he had failed you. He had promised you almost a full year ago, the night after Voldemort’s return and Cedric’s murder that he’d keep you safe, and he hadn’t kept his word. You had gone into battle, and you had gotten tortured of all things. He felt sick, the need to take you away from home and keep you from participating anymore in the war being stronger by the second. But you wouldn’t like that. You would want to fight, and he’d be damned if he lost you. He couldn’t.

Molly thought his cry was because of his younger siblings, but George knew better. Sure, Fred was worried about Ron and Ginny, but it was you who had him hyperventilating at the idea of losing you, because the idea of living life without you felt like torture.

Three weeks later, he had found himself at your doorstep, hoping to convince you to stay with them, at least until your parents got back from their holiday in Italy. Or forever. Maybe you felt the same way, maybe you loved him back, maybe you loved him more than you loved any of your friends.

And you did, to no one’s surprise but his.

So, now here he was, fresh out of the shower, in the house the two of you had bought, and as he went downstairs, he found you at the table, with the dinner ready, and his heart skipped a beat once more. Remembering the panic that had nestled in his chest during the war, how many times he had stayed awake at night, not being able to sleep, afraid he’d lose you, afraid they’d take you from him; his arms tense around your body while he prayed he wouldn’t fail you again. And now, the war was finally behind all of you, and you were safe.

“How was the shower?”

“Would’ve been better if you had joined me” he replied, leaning in to kiss the top of her head. You hit him playfully in the arm.

After dinner, he smiled softly at you, and grabbed your hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. His eyes hadn’t left you at all as you ate, too mesmerized by how beautiful you were, and how happy he was with you, how happy you made him, and the way it felt his heart was way too big for his chest whenever he thought of you.

“I love you” he whispered, not being his bubbly, extroverted self, and you let him speak “I love you so, so much, my sweet girl”

You smiled softly, and held his hand back.

“I love you too, honey. So much. Forever”

Fred got up and took his wand out, letting magic take care of the dishes and pulled you into his embrace.

“Let’s go to bed, love”

#fred weasley #harry potter #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x reader #hogwarts

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sin-djarin · 5 months

Text

footprints

Rating: T.

Word Count: 900ish.

Summary: Joel and Tommy stay up to wrap Sarah's Christmas gifts.

Warnings: Swearing, it's mostly fluff. Maybe some sadness. My awful spelling and grammar, probably - this was written is haste before caffeine and as such, not my finest work but sometimes you just gotta get the words out.

A/N: I made this post yesterday and hurt my own feelings. @rhoorl also mentioned the carrots.

Joel sat on the edge of his couch repeatedly glancing at his watch. Another five minutes and she’ll definitely be asleep, he thought. That was almost two hours ago. While he waited, his incisors chewed the splinters out of his fingers as Tommy sucked on a beer. The sickly sweet smell of the gingerbread house he’d helped Sarah construct earlier in the evening still lingers in his nostrils. His stomach churning as the smell of it clashed with the anxiety coursing around his bloodstream.

Don’t fuck this up.

When he thought the time was right, he gave Tommy the signal to haul in the bags of gifts from the truck that he stored at his brother’s house. Almost every night for the past month, Joel had given Tommy something else to add to the stash. Another book, another set of crayons, another stuffed animal.

Now, well into the early hours, the two brothers have set up a different kind of workshop on the hardwood floor. All of the furniture has been pushed out of the way to give themselves adequate space to wrap her gifts. Tommy sits cross legged and Joel works on his hands and aching knees. Both of them wearing deep set frowns because Joel has insisted on a single lamp as a light source.

Regardless, Joel carries on under a furrowed brow as he fights to align the paper and tape it in place, doing his best to smooth out any wrinkles and creases with his fingers afterwards.

As time passes, the area around them becomes increasingly littered with offcuts of paper and cardboard.

“Tommy.” Joel hisses through gritted teeth, his voice carrying across to his brother who’s violently ripping off another piece of tape from the roll.

“How the fuck am I supposed to wrap a football, Joel?” he mutters back, wrestling to try and cover the object with an obnoxiously large piece of snowflake patterned paper.

“Why did you take it out of the fuckin’ box-”

Joel sighs, stopping himself from arguing any further. He’s desperate to keep the house silent except for the sound of scissors gliding through paper and tape being pulled from and spat from teeth in frustration.

He has other cause for concern - how he’s going to wrap the three quarter sized guitar he’s bought for Sarah. He’s promised himself to teach her in the coming months. He’ll come home earlier and teach her basic chords.

He’ll be more patient with her than he’s being with himself right now when he realizes he’s bought too many presents and not enough gift wrap.

Don't fuck this up.

Joel makes it work. Taking the ends of two rolls, he just about manages to cover the cardboard box it comes in. His face contorts into a grimace, trying to stretch the paper to its limits far before sealing it along the edge with a piece of tape that he pulls from the back of his hand. He’ll tell Sarah that not even the elves are perfect and sometimes this happens.

When Tommy has finally wrangled the football and Joel slides the last box under the Christmas tree, the two of them stand up with a synchronized groan and look down to admire their handiwork. The bottom of it is barely visible for the small sea of boxes of all shapes and sizes.

While Tommy grins gleefully, Joel rubs his papercut fingers over his mustache and frowns - something’s missing.

“Grab me the flour from the kitchen.” Joel instructs Tommy, passing him to tiptoe to the hallway.

Tommy does as he’s told, returning with a box of cake mix in one hand and a carrot in the other, meeting Joel back in the living room who’s carrying his steel-toed work boots.

He rolls his eyes at Tommy’s efforts. Whatever. It'll work Joel thinks, slipping on his black boots that look ridiculous at the ends of his sweatpants.

Joel haphazardly sprinkles the cake mix on the floor and begins to walk in it, creating a path from the fireplace to the Christmas tree. He leans on Tommy's shoulder for support, finally off loading some pressure of the weight he's carried around for months to make sure tomorrow - today - is perfect. He presses each foot into the dusty floor, rocking back and forth slightly to create a perfect print.

Joel removes his foot and examines the print, revealing all the grooves his rubber soles have made. Not bad.

Meanwhile, Tommy takes a bite of the carrot. The loud crunch of his molars gnashing into it makes Joel throw him another death glare, pleading with him to shut up in case it echoes up to Sarah’s room.

“Dammit. You're gonna wake her.”

“Relax, she's on her third dream by now.” Tommy mumbles and tries to reassure his brother through an off-tasting carrot that coats his mouth.

Tommy puts the partially chewed vegetable down on the coffee table and Joel steps out of his boots, careful not to disturb his own footprints then walks back to his brother’s side.

“It's perfect, man.” Tommy whispers, patting Joel on the back.

It's not perfect. If Joel had his way, the entire room would be filled floor to ceiling with gifts and real snow but it’s more than his parents did for him. Still, a bittersweet smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he imagines Sarah running into his room in a few hours to wake him. The smile is followed by a contented sigh that escapes him at the thought of her leading him downstairs by the hand and her face lighting up at the sight of what Santa left for her.

“I guess,” Joel turns to Tommy, his voice something more than a hiss for the first time in hours. “I don't know how many more of these I have left, you know?”

#joel miller #tommy miller #sarah miller #pedro pascal #the last of us fanfiction

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ukulelevillainwrites · 7 months

Text

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

pairing : anthony lockwood x reader

word count : 7.3k

content : fluff scenes where i was kicking my feet as i wrote them, angst too with another fight, the plot thickens

taglist : @cassiopeiia24 @archiveoftara

note : it's like i blinked and suddenly 3 weeks had passed, i have no idea where the time went but i certainly did not want to post this so late thank you everyone for your patience i really hope you like this part (i like it a lot let me know what you think)

“What do you mean?” She asked with round eyes.

“There’s been a sudden increase in missing sources in the past two weeks. This happens at the same time you see Dufour selling a source she stole from a client. That’s too big to be a coincidence.”

“Well, that’s my cue.” Lockwood said as he was heading for the door. “You should watch out, y/n, he’s going to be rambling for the next two hours.”

“Actually, I kind of want to hear this.”

She settled on the couch next to George, pulling a blanket over her legs. In this moment, there was nothing other than the light shining in George’s eyes as he went into further details and the softness of the blanket underneath her fingertips. About a week ago she thought she had seen him for the last time. That the last image she would have ever had of him was carrying his stuff in a cardboard box so damaged it was a miracle nothing was falling everywhere. Now here she was, listening intently as he told her about the operating system of an industrial-sized source-burning oven used at the furnaces and how time-wasting and inefficient it was to turn them on late. Her anxiety had made itself silent, her tears were dry, her breathing had slowed down. Maybe it was thanks to Lockwood’s comforting peace. Maybe it was thanks to her determination to see the positive even on the darkest days. Maybe she was lying to herself, drawing way out of proportion her ability to keep her emotions in check. Either way, she felt peaceful and warmth flooded her as she realized she got to listen to George’s crazy theories once more. She hoped many more evenings like these were to come. Her career plan may be out the window, but here she had found something she never got close to having at Fittes. She had found her home.

Lockwood left the room without a sound, smiling at his best friend’s enthusiastic tone and energetic hand gestures. She was too caught up in George’s explanation to notice him exiting the room and throwing her one last glance, relieved to see her smiling again. They stayed up well into the first hours of the following day, not paying attention to how late it was actually getting. They hadn’t realized how tired they were either apparently.

A ray of sunshine shone directly into her face. She reluctantly opened an eye to see the sofa in disarray and her blanket on the floor. She was exhausted. Her limbs were heavy, her clothes seemed to be made of lead. She turned her face away from the light, drifting back into peaceful slumber. She heard some light rustling and thought it was another one of her dreams. She was too tired to confront that girl again. But to her surprise she never came. Instead, she felt a cover being draped delicately over her. It was soft and smelled faintly of cinnamon. It was enough to put her back to sleep. As she was drifting in and out of consciousness she could have sworn she felt something brushing her cheek. She must have been dreaming.

She woke up crouched into the sofa, her legs resting on something harder than cushions and covered with a queen-sized blanket she thought she had dreamed of. Light was shining through the windows, the sun already high. She went to get up, but as she tried to move her legs a groan came out of the opposite side of the sofa. George was sleeping on the couch too, his legs underneath hers as well as a part of his torso. They were tangled up in one of the most uncomfortable sleeping position ever. Seeing them like this triggered her laugh which made George pull up the blanket over his head. She got up as delicately as she could so as not to disturb him. She stumbled into the kitchen, sleepy-eyed and unaware of her surroundings.

“I was starting to worry you two might be in a coma.”

She jumped, bumping into the foot of the closest chair.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

“What time is it?”

Lockwood told her it was almost one, laughing as he poured himself a cup of tea.

“I thought you’d be sleeping all day.”

“It would have been nice but we have a case tonight, right?” She mumbled. She wasn’t entirely up quite yet.

He smiled and handed her his cup. She warmed her hands on the mug, feeling more awake already. He went to pour himself another one but winced as he picked up the kettle.

“Your arm is still hurting?”

“Just a little, it’s nothing really…” He said, struggling to pour the hot water.

She got up to help him out but had to battle him to take hold of the kettle. She looked him straight in the eyes to silently convince him of letting her do this. He reluctantly let go, and she noticed his tie was undone.

“When did you wake up?” She asked as she poured him a cup.

“About two hours ago.” He said, taking a sip.

“And you didn’t tie your tie because…?”

“I didn’t have to go out yet.”

She might have only been living with them for a week, but during her time here she only saw him without a tie late at night once they had gotten home from a case.

She sighed and went to tie it for him. She raised her hands towards his collar. Before she could take hold of the blue fabric, he reached for them.

“I can do it myself, I swear-”

But his fingers had barely brushed her skin that he had to take hold of his arm. She looked back at him with a disapproving stare. He lowered his hands. She smiled with a triumphant grin, satisfied. He stood straighter with a sigh to allow her to focus on the knot. Slowly, she passed one band over the other.

“How did you manage to button your shirt in that state?”

“It… took longer than expected…” he admitted hesitantly, his eyes looking up at the ceiling.

She passed the larger band around the thinner one, passing it inside the forming knot.

“You need to learn how to ask for help.”

He looked down at her work and scoffed.

“You need to learn how to tie a tie.”

At that she tightened the knot around his neck, enough to startle him. His breath caught and for a moment he looked into her eyes with surprise. After a few seconds, she figured she had taught him a well-deserved lesson and loosened the knot carefully, maintaining eye contact. He still seemed to be holding his breath when she finally let go after neatly replacing his collar and making a few adjustments to the knot. Maybe she’d scared him. That would teach him to criticize her necktie expertise in the morning.

She sat back down, taking a sip of her tea before asking him if he was going to be okay on the case tonight.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“That probably means I should keep an eye on you. It could have been a very close call yesterday.”

“If you’re gonna keep an eye on me you’ll have to work on your rapier technique.”

“You’re so unfair! First of all, I saved your life. And second, I’m excellent with a rapier, Kipps mentored me every day when I was on his team.”

He let out what was probably the most honest laugh she had ever heard. She crossed her arms, vexed. He could be so infuriating.

“Kipps is mediocre at best.”

“Yeah right, like you could take him in a fight.”

“I could actually. I even brought back a trophy.” He winked at her. “Poor Quill never got over it.”

“Is that seriously the sole reason for your stupid rivalry?”

He nodded, smiling into his cup. He looked so proud. It was rather funny, but she was really close to slapping the grin off his face.

“That, and the fact you humiliated him.” George chimed in, coming through the door barely awake.

“Lockwood! I thought you were better than this.” She acted shocked, but they were all laughing.

“He’s the fully grown man holding a grudge.”

“Oh, right. And you’re just an idiot.” She teased.

He put a hand to his chest, like his feelings were hurt. George interrupted their banter to remind them of the case they had that night and what they were getting into. They organized the rest of their day, Lockwood insisting on training her this afternoon.

---

“Your stance is all wrong and the fight hasn’t even begun.” He left his position and took a step closer to her. “You’re already standing back in defense when nothing has happened yet. You have to look more confident otherwise you’ll lose the upper hand right away.”

“Sure, because confidence is a famous ward against ghosts.”

He wasn’t amused. Right then he looked like a strict fencing teacher bothered by his student’s lack of progress. She hadn’t realized placing her feet improperly could upset him so much.

“Just show me then.”

He came to stand right behind her, telling her to place her right foot a few inches farther from her left. He got closer, a serious look on his face. He really wasn’t joking anymore. He turned slightly around her and lifted her chin to make her look right in front of her. His eyes were sharp and focused. They didn’t linger on her face and he didn’t seem to notice hers getting rounder at the sudden contact of his fingers with her jaw. His other hand was on her waist, adjusting her position a few inches. He then came closer, mimicking her stance like he was her shadow, and took hold of her arms. She felt his breath in her hair. He strengthened her grasp on her rapier and lifted her right arm at the correct angle. It must have triggered his pain because he lost his balance, leaning against her before staggering backwards.

“Are you okay?”

“My arm’s a little sore, that’s all.” He was already trying to get her back into position.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this today.”

“Really, I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. I’ll cover you for tonight, I’ve done it before I can do it again.” She said, leaving her position to look at him. “No matter how skilled you are you’re not in the right state today, Lockwood. It’s okay to rely on others, you know?”

He didn’t even acknowledge what she just said before adding

“Just try to hold your arm lower than you usually do so you don’t cramp up. It’ll allow you to gain stamina and it could save us some time.”

George called them from the kitchen, he needed help with the bags.

“How did you know-”

Lockwood was already climbing the iron stairs. She shook off the feeling that he could see right through her. It was good advice. She focused on that part and made a mental note to remember it tonight.

---

The case had gone even better than the night before. Sure, it was just a Type One so it wasn’t as dangerous. But they were more coordinated, more organized and more methodical. Lockwood hadn’t gotten into a near death situation, which was a significant improvement. He had been in the last two cases they had been on together, it was enough for her to think it was a common occurrence.

She felt like she was part of a proper team again. However, now she didn’t feel the need to impress anyone. She wasn’t craving the praise and admiration of her team leader. It was liberating. She was free to do her job without worry. It made her feel more confident in her abilities too. She didn’t need to prove anything and she didn’t feel watched all the time. She had found a team that helped her grow.

They established a rotation of their roles, alternating who had to dispose of the source, who had to oil the chains and who had to give the keys back to the client the following day. The guys made her feel instantly like she was an essential member of the team.

The following day, two new clients made appointments. Then two others called. It was like she had blinked and then it had been a week since she’d been officially hired. The cases kept coming but she didn’t mind. Before all the drama of her professional life, she had loved her job and being part of an agency. It was risky, most of the time it sucked. But it was rewarding. And in the end she felt like she had a purpose, like she was making the most of the circumstances and helping out in her own way. The clients kept calling and the cases kept piling up, as if there was an outburst of paranormal activity. It wasn’t unusual to see an increase in hauntings nearing November, but she had hardly seen anything like this. Though Fittes had a lot more resources and maybe it hadn’t affected her team as much. With just them three they had a lot more work on their hands. It could get overwhelming at times but it kept her mind busy and she was thankful for that. It helped keep her dreams under control too. She hadn’t woken up in a cold sweat since she had seen the girl at the foot of her bed. And whatever she wanted from her, she was too busy to even think about it.

Another week passed. Time was flying and she had really gotten used to Portland Row. After a case she threw her rapier in the broken flower pot that stood as an umbrella stand with the others, smiled at the smell of toast coming from the kitchen, she was home. She knew what steps to avoid on a late night or an early morning, she started to know the names of the books in the library, she was even familiar with George’s filing system for their cases and his research, something even Lockwood found hard to follow.

She was grateful for George. He had brought her here. Well, she had followed him here but he was the reason she had stayed. And ever since he had made his best to make her feel at home. They had grown closer, they were actual friends now. Sometimes she assisted him on research, but mostly during the few moments of rest they had she sat at the kitchen table while he was cooking. Listening to him rambling was probably one of her main activities. But it kept her mind off her future, her responsibilities, her family who still thought she worked at Fittes. And she got to learn about random things that could always be useful someday. Once, she managed to find a source that had been hidden in a compartment inside a fireplace thanks to George’s detailed description of their nineteenth century construction technique.

Lockwood would sometimes join them, but it was rare. When they were home, he either had errands to run or paperwork to fill out. Late at night if they had a moment of rest he mostly sat in the comforting silence of the library with a magazine. He was still somewhat of a question mark. She hadn’t figured him out quite yet, but they got along. Training had become a regular thing. Once his arm had healed he had turned into the fencing teacher he aspired to be. He helped her improve her technique, her reflexes and stamina. She immediately saw the difference with the way Kipps used to train her. Kipps followed the rules, he’d always been behaving according to a script and every single one of his movements had been rehearsed. Because of him she had always thought that using her rapier was something that had been decided upon. There were rules and if she wanted to be good she had to stick to them. Anthony Lockwood was different. He was an artist with a weapon in his hand. He knew all the rules, sure. But he was creative, resourceful. Everything she had been taught so far was just a blank canvas to him and he used it to paint the most beautiful pictures. During their fights, he always found a way to gain the upper hand even when she thought her maneuver couldn’t be overpowered. He was so imaginative it was impossible to beat him. And he always looked elegant, no matter how long they fought he remained graceful until the end. It annoyed her every time. She always ended their sessions drenched in sweat and out of breath, her hair a mess. He looked slightly disheveled but overall unaffected. He didn’t even have the decency to act like she was a worthy opponent. His lessons were formative but also a great source of frustration. But it was all in good fun. It had helped them get along better. Though she didn’t feel like she had made much progress since the night he hired her. They would tease each other every now and then but aside from their training they didn’t spend that much time just the two of them. She didn’t know if he kept his distance intentionally or if it was just the normal relationship they should be having as colleagues. The night he comforted her was still very clear in her mind. She remembered vividly the gentleness of his tone and the warmth of his smile. She thought after that it would feel like they were actual friends but something was missing. She still considered that night to be special. It held a meaningful place in her mind, she hoped she would feel closer to him at some point. If she got George to come out of his shell, anything was possible.

Though, her optimism slightly faded the more she saw his behavior with others. She’d quickly learned that he had a natural charisma he used quite often, with clients, DEPRAC or anyone that might get in the way of what he wanted. He had different tricks he’d combine to make the best impression: listening intently to the requests, or sometimes orders, to seem polite and respectful, shine a wolf like smile to seem convinced and reasonable, then start a great speech with a serious tone and a hint of compassion, to end with that same grin she had soon learned was hard to say no to. What bugged her was that when she listened to those seemingly understanding tirades and saw him subtly smile, she got flashbacks from the night he hired her. It seemed a bit too familiar. It particularly disturbed her one night when the client they had been working for joined them right after they finished clearing her house. She had gone away during their inspection but was too preoccupied to sleep and had decided to stay nearby. When they debriefed the case and told her the ghost was very aggressive and was in fact her mother like she had suspected, she got emotional. Even more so when she was told the source was her own childhood stuffed animal. She was overcome with grief and the team tried to comfort her the best they could. She was on the steps in front of the house, too devastated to come in. She was barely older than them. y/n had felt much pain for her. Yet her attention was drawn to Lockwood, and how he comforted her. She was angry at herself for thinking about this. That girl was going through a lot and all her mind could focus on was how her colleague was behaving with her. She didn’t know what to say to ease her pain so she decided to make her tea. When she brought it to her she found out Lockwood was much more at ease than she was. As she reached the doorstep, she saw him sitting with their client.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you. I guess we’ve got that in common. How fun.” Their client tried to sound sarcastic but she was still sobbing.

“It gets better, I promise.” Lockwood put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Don’t be afraid to let people in, you might be pleasantly surprised.” He gave her a warm smile that, from afar, looked terribly similar to the one he had given her. It was like she was watching the scene from a few weeks ago, replaying here in front of her. Only this time she wasn’t part of it. And that smile wasn’t for her. She slowly closed the door, went back to the kitchen to pour a new cup of tea for Lockwood. She went back out and handed them their cup. He thanked her and smiled the same way he had a few moments ago, but it didn’t mean as much now.

She had tried not to pay too much attention to it yet she couldn’t help but feel like Lockwood had been lying to her somehow. She thought he had cared about her, since he had acted like a close friend would have. But every time she saw him shine his smile to someone else she realized it hadn’t really meant anything to him. Maybe getting close like she and George were would be harder than expected. Every time she thought she was close to figuring him out she went back to square one. It wouldn’t be the only thing that had made her notice how wrong she could be about him. His whole rivalry with Kipps and overall pride he made no effort to hide instinctively indicated that he was someone who would understand why she needed to clear her name, but apparently not.

After two weeks of late nights and intense work, they finally caught a breath. The phone had stopped ringing and they could finally enjoy a day off. They woke up late, George cooked a breakfast so big it could only be described as a feast. They had all planned to relax but George being George he intended to go to the Archives anyway.

“But you spend all your days there already!” y/n told him.

“Yes, but today I can research stuff I never have time to look into. Like that whole Dufour thing.”

“You’re not still into that, are you?” Lockwood lifted his eyes from his magazine.

“I just want to see if I was right!” He said, exiting the room.

“Of course you’re right. You are every time.” Lockwood mumbled, going back to his reading.

There was silence after he had gone. It was the first time in weeks that she was alone with Lockwood and they didn’t have to talk about work.

“You really think that he’s right?”

“From experience I’d say so, yeah.”

“Then I think I’m gonna go with him if you don’t need help with anything.”

“Oh. Sure.”

“If that bitch is involved in something big I have to find out!” She meant it as a joke, but part of it was true.

She got up to join George, but Lockwood caught her hand.

“You should let go of that whole thing, y/n. It’s not healthy to dwell on it.”

It took her a minute to answer. Her mind had gone blank the instant his fingers had brushed against her wrist.

“That woman fired me and is selling stolen sources. I want bad stuff to happen to her.”

He laughed lightly.

“I get it but… just be careful.”

“I will… I am.”

He nodded slightly, releasing her hand. His eyes didn’t leave her as she went to find George. Her hand still tingled as she stepped through the front door.

When they got to the Archives, the streets were buzzing with activity. They reached the inside of the building and the noise fell silent, everyone inside focused on their task. Despite the crowd, they managed to find an open spot. George was happy to have her with him that afternoon. Mostly because he wanted to go through the news coverage over the last month and had selected not one but four different newspapers for the task. With a hundred and twenty papers to read, he was glad he had extra help.

“What are we looking for exactly?”

“Anything that could be relevant to Dufour or relic-men. Something that could be part of a bigger operation linking them to the furnaces.”

“That doesn’t really narrow it down…” But he didn’t even notice what she said, he had already started reading.

They had two newspapers each, covering every day of the past month. She picked up the first one on her pile and started looking through the pages for any useful information. There wasn’t anything addressing relic-men or a dealing of sources. The columns dedicated to the Problem were focusing mainly on the advances made by the Rotwell Institute or the donations Fittes had provided to the victims of ghost-lock. One more death by ghost-touch wouldn’t make the headlines. She closed the first newspaper and reached for another one. George was scribbling at high speed in his notebook.

“Did you find something interesting?”

“Yes, about 3 and a half weeks ago there was a short article that mentioned the death of a man the police assumed to be a relic-man. Usually newspapers love this kind of story because relic-men really apply themselves when they kill a rival. It’s the kind of gruesome tale that boosts their sales. But here it’s very brief, talks succinctly of a settling of scores but nothing more. It’s a little surprising, maybe there’s more to it.”

His imagination paired with his attention to detail led to impressive discoveries in seemingly random information.

“Maybe you should double check mine when you’re done…”

She kept reading, the pile of newspapers decreasing slowly. She didn’t manage to find any groundbreaking piece of information, but she did notice the repetition of burglaries in different neighborhoods. It had been mentioned five or six times over the last few weeks. The stolen objects where the usual type of thing: jewelry, money and anything worth selling. But some objects stood out in the list made by the reporter because they were all antiques. The articles suggested that the culprit or culprits might be collectors, but George would certainly find another explanation. She pitched him her theory and he started to write even faster. She didn’t think that was possible. She was glad she could finally help, they had been here for two hours and she hadn’t contributed at all until now.

George got right back to his research but y/n needed a break. She told him she was going to get them some tea but he was already deep into another newspaper.

She got up and started to make her way outside. She climbed down the stairs, putting her jacket on. She headed for the door, but someone caught up with her and grabbed her arm. She turned around to see Quill Kipps with an uncomfortable look on his face.

“y/n, hello… I’m glad I ran into you…”

“I really don’t have time, George is waiting for me.” She dismissed him. She wasn’t over the comments he had made and she lacked the patience to have an entire conversation.

“Oh, some work to do for Lockwood & Co?” He said with an uneasy laugh. That kind of small talk didn’t seem to be his forte.

“Yeah.” She looked at the door, trying to send a message.

“I-I didn’t know you were… um… working there.”

She pressed her lips into a thin smile. She was actually curious to see what he was going to say next.

“You should watch out, Lockwood’s an idiot.”

Unbelievable. For arch nemeses they were behaving awfully similar. Though it would be unfair to say that his comment wasn’t accurate sometimes.

“That’s funny because I hear similar things about you back home.”

“Oh, it’s your home now?”

“Kipps, seriously what do you want?”

“I wanted to apologize.”

“Well, you’re doing a fantastic job!” She pushed the door and rushed outside. She didn’t know if it was Lockwood’s loathing of the guy that had rubbed off on her or if it was simply this conversation but she had had enough of him. Unfortunately for her he was persistent. He ran after her, telling her to slow down.

“What?” Her tone was cold and menacing.

He took a step back.

“y/n… I’m really sorry about what happened at the furnaces. It was insensitive and really dumb of me and I’m sorry.”

He seemed honest enough. She looked up.

“I’m worried about you. You were one of the best agents I’ve worked with but now there are some pretty bad rumors going around Fittes…”

“What rumors?”

Something shifted in his attitude. He was worried but he also seemed afraid of something she couldn’t pinpoint. He tried to put the next part delicately but it had the opposite effect.

“Many agents have been saying things about you going… bad? Like… on the wrong side of psychical work…”

Her stomach twisted and the fact that he spoke in riddles didn’t help. Was he afraid of her?

“Just spit it out, Kipps.”

“According to some probably unreliable sources, you’d be working closely with… relic-men.”

“You can’t be serious.” The blood left her cheeks.

“George too…”

She felt light-headed.

“Given your reaction I’m guessing I was right not to believe them.”

“How gracious of you.”

“y/n I’m serious. I may have only worked with you for a month but I know how seriously you took your job. And given the proportions this is taking I just wanted to offer my help.”

“What do you mean?”

“You haven’t seen today’s paper?”

“No… why?”

He pulled out a newspaper. On the front page the head title read “Rogue agents: should we be doing more?”. She looked up at him, a million questions flooding her mind. That article couldn’t be about her, right? He gave her an apologetic smile and asked her if she wanted a cup of coffee. He didn’t wait for her answer and led her to the coffee shop next door. Her eyes hadn’t left the article as they sat down. The reporter was explaining in great details that agents, after seeing so many traumatic things, needed to be eased back into society before returning to a normal life. He invoked psychological explanations that remained unclear. He advocated for the creation of a rehabilitation program to keep ex-agents under control so they didn’t end up on the wrong side of the law. He went as far as offering a mandatory two-month long camp of sorts for troublesome young people. He justified his remarks with murky reasons. Having worked in the field for many years, she knew this was all bullshit. But to someone who had never been in her shoes, it would be convincing without a doubt. But the worst part was yet to come. To emphasize the urgency of this issue, the reporter used examples of agents who had apparently gone wrong, citing several supervisors as his source. Apparently, a certain Fittes supervisor had been the witness to concerning behaviors coming from two young people, now ex agents, who had been caught committing several felonies, including maintaining business relations with known relic-men. Right there, on the following line, appeared her name. The reporter ended his piece in a dramatic tone, underlying the fact that those wrong doers hadn’t been apprehended by DEPRAC and remained at large.

She threw the newspaper back on the table.

“It wouldn’t have surprised me that much to hear that Karim was part of this. But you… It seemed impossible. And I really wanted to check up on you.”

She didn’t know what to say. Her name was being dragged through the mud. And what, she was going to be forced in a rehabilitation program made up by some trashy reporter and all because of the same person who fired her? Like ending her career hadn’t been enough. She was taking the blame for the crimes she had seen Dufour commit.

“I need to… get out of there.”

Kipps got up as she stood up.

“Can I keep this?”

“Yes, whatever you need.”

She smiled, or at least tried, and pushed the door of the coffee shop. Before she left Kipps called her.

“y/n, I’m on your side okay? You can count on me.”

“Thank you.” She answered faintly. She was still shaken. She couldn’t believe the proportions this was taking. She had finally started to let go of her time at Fittes and all her efforts were reduced to nothing with just one page in a newspaper.

She rushed back to the Archives, desperate to show the article to George. He hadn’t noticed how long she had been gone, he didn’t even say anything about the tea she didn’t bring back. His notebook was filled with new facts and arrows linking some of them together. She sat down next to him. He didn’t look up, he just started talking, saying something about repetitive power outages. She pushed the newspaper Kipps gave her in front of his notes.

“What’s this?”

“Today’s newspaper. We made the front page.”

“What do you-”

His eyes were fleeting across the paper. They grew wider as he went further.

“This is a joke, right?”

“I wish it was. Maybe it’s just a nightmare and I’ll wake up on the couch with your feet in my face.” She tried to ease the tension she was feeling but none of them laughed. She was self-conscious about being in a place filled with agents. Did they read the paper too? Did they know who they were? She heard two people whispering on her left, she turned to look, George did the same.

“Maybe we’ll be better home.”

“Yeah let’s get out of here.”

No one had said a thing the whole way home. They were both lost in thought. George opened the front door. They took off their jacket and instinctively went down to the kitchen. She put the kettle on while he got some biscuits. They sat facing each other, seeking comfort in the sweetness of cookies and the warmth of their tea. Lockwood entered the room and was taken aback by the look on their face.

“What happened to you both? You look like you’ve seen a ghost in broad daylight.”

“We ran into Kipps.” George said without elaborating.

“I can understand how this could ruin someone’s day.” He smiled broadly.

“It’s not about him.” y/n snapped. “It’s about this.” She handed him the newspaper.

Lockwood skimmed through the article, still smiling. He didn’t look affected at all.

“Well, this is obviously ridiculous. But there’s no need to panic over a badly written article.”

“Lockwood this is on the front page!” George exclaimed.

“Rumors are starting to spread at Fittes.” y/n said in a monotone voice.

“I understand that this is an uncomfortable position to be in but it’ll blow over. There’s no need to overreact, juts keep a low profile.”

“I’m not gonna sit still while Dufour is out there ruining our reputation after already ruining our careers.” She stood up. “We’ve got enough dirt to bury her with what we found today.”

Lockwood gave her an exasperated look. George didn’t notice and began going over his notes, explaining the connections he had made.

“There’s clearly a link there and we can act on it!”

“Absolutely not!”

The temperature had dropped several degrees. The tension in the room was palpable. At least y/n felt it. But George had kept on going, starting to come up with a plan to follow Dufour and see what she was up to from up close.

“George.” Lockwood interrupted. “You’re reaching. It’s a coincidence at best and you know it. It wouldn’t be the first time relic dealing affects other industries.”

“Come on! Don’t you think that-”

“No. I don’t. Please try to focus on the real cases this business needs and don’t get stuck on another obsession.”

“You’re so unfair! You’re the one who keeps telling me that George is always right and that we should listen to his instincts!” y/n cut in.

“And I also told you that you shouldn’t do what he does. The last time you did, it got you fired.” Lockwood turned to her, his arms crossed. How often was he going to go into that well?

“Because you’re always so good at following made up rules…”

“I’m being rational and grounded, which in this case makes me exemplary.”

“Right, and that’s coming from the guy who disregards his own safety most of the time and doesn’t acknowledge that the risks he takes are completely unnecessary.”

“You’re the one who wants to play right into her game! Can’t you see that she’s waiting for one of you to slip up so you can take the blame for everything she’s done?” He gave both of them a warning look. He made a good point, but he was much too aware of it and she didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“I’m serious when I say do not act on it. Dragging Lockwood&Co into this mess would be the last thing we need.”

His last words ignited the flame already burning inside her.

“This is all this is about, isn’t it? If your name was the one being tied to crimes you didn’t commit you’d be the first to convince us to do something about this. But when it’s the other way around you have to think of business first.”

“This company is all you have left!”

“Rather you’re all we have left, right? The great Anthony Lockwood rescuing us and being a hero. How glorious of you!”

He scoffed and closed exasperated eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You need to keep your ego in check, Lockwood. You need us as much as we need you!”

“If you want to cut your safety net then you can go! But as long as you work in my company, you’ll have to listen to what I have to say. It’s my name on the door and it’s my decision.”

She stormed out of the room and went up to the attic. His lack of understanding was too much to bear. She wished he had listened. Was it really too much to ask? She really thought that he would see why she needed to do something instead of laying low. Him of all people should understand. She guessed she didn’t know him as well as she thought.

She spent the rest of the day in her room, brooding, thinking about Dufour. The nerve she had to blame her for everything she did. All of this because she offered a different solution than hers to a client? Sure she broke into her office after that but it still seemed extreme.

She didn’t feel like going downstairs for dinner. She wasn’t really hungry anyway. But even if she had been, she didn’t want to face the obvious tension that would follow. She had gotten used to Lockwood’s warm brown eyes, but today they had been cold when he looked at her. She hadn’t been arguing with a friend or roommate or whatever they were, he had been her employer and she was expected to follow his orders.

There was a knock on her door. It was George, bringing her some food. He put the plate on her nightstand and sat next to her on her bed.

“Thought you could use something to eat.”

“That’s sweet of you, thank you.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Upset. And overwhelmed. But I’ll be okay. It’s just a lot you know?”

“Yeah… I still tried to convince Lockwood over dinner. You were right not to come down, it wasn’t a pleasant conversation. He’s dead set on burying this whole thing.”

At least she had one ally in this house.

“I don’t understand his reaction. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Don’t overthink it. He’s just… like that sometimes.”

She didn’t say anything for a while, lost in thought. George went to get the plate he had brought up and put it in her hands.

“You should eat. Don’t worry, you’ll be back to teasing each other in no time.” She froze. After a second, she looked up and saw him look so proud of himself.

“That’s not what this is about! What are you even getting at?”

He laughed and put a hand over her shoulder, rolling his eyes. She wanted to push him off her bed, but one bite and she surrendered, forced to compliment him yet again on his cooking.

The following morning y/n was the first one up. Sleep had cleared her mind. If Lockwood wasn’t going to help them, then she would take matter into her own hands. The plan George had started to elaborate the night before had grown into her mind. Following Dufour would really help her know what she was up against. George’s theory was a good start, but to take action she needed to know more about her operation, her clients, her associates. What was she in charge of exactly? How did she cover her tracks?

She walked into the kitchen with purpose. Today, she was taking her life back. She brewed some tea, poured herself a cup and ate toasts as she started to devise her plan on the Thinking Cloth. She remained vague on purpose. If Lockwood saw it, he would think it was just theoretical, like one of George’s ideas. She was so focused that she didn’t hear him coming in. He poured himself a cup of tea, but it was only when he spat it out that she noticed he was there.

“Why do you always make your tea so bitter?” he asked way too loudly for this hour of the morning.

“I think it suits you…” She mumbled, her eyes still set on the table.

He poured more water in his cup but still groaned when he tried it again. Desperate for silence, she got up and grabbed the sugar.

“Here, maybe it’ll soften your mood too.”

“No!” he exclaimed too late. She was already adding sugar to his cup. The opposition only made her pour more of it.

She felt him glaring at her. She tried not to smile, knowing it would infuriate him further and make her morning even less enjoyable. She sat back down and grabbed licorice from the bag that rested on the table. As she went to take a bite he slapped her wrist, making her drop it.

“Ow! What was that for?”

He didn’t bother to answer. He simply took the bag of licorice and left the room. She thought many things of Anthony Lockwood. He was a prick and an idiot, hot headed and impulsive, stubborn, but she didn’t know petty was also part of the list. He quickly said something about meeting an old friend before slamming the front door on his way out. It must have woken up George since he stumbled into the kitchen sleepy-eyed just a few minutes later. She didn’t intend on filling him in about her plan just yet. She wanted to have tangible result before dragging him into it.

She took a while longer to get all the details of her plan. She had tried to plan an itinerary that checked all the important places she needed to stake out. She would try to do as much as possible in one day. Once she had a clear idea where to start, she went up to the attic to finish getting ready. In the hall, she told George she had some errands to run. She put on her shoes, grabbed her coat and was about to open the door when the bell rang. She looked through the peephole. A tall thin man and a woman where standing in front of the door, a DEPRAC van parked right outside the house. She hesitantly opened the door.

“Good morning. I’m inspector Barnes, this is inspector Wade. Is George Karim here?”

“Um… Yes. Yes, he’s here. Should I go and get him?”

He ignored her question.

“Are you miss (y/n)?”

“Yes… I am…”

“I’m gonna have to ask you both to come with us.”

———

PS : I'm probably gonna open the next part with a couple of scenes from lockwood's pov ;))

#ukuwrites #who follows the rules anyway #lockwood and co fic #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co imagine #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #george karim #quill kipps

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 4 months

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A good while again I got a request that Tumblr refuses to show me, but I got it in my Tumbly email, and thus was able to write it down. I took the liberty to rephrase the gist of it, and the idea, because there was enough content for a 50k slowburn. But. Here's a oneshot, hope you like it

Pairing: Nacht x Fem!Reader Reader description for this oneshot:

A shy, introverted, "loner" but kind, book-loving BRK ( Blue Rose Knight) with energy magic that can absorb other people’s mana a little bit, and which allows her to feel the person's emotions and energy as a result

Genre: Angst, tragic-romance Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~0.9k Contains: Themes of regret (Nacht's, but reader feels his emotions through his energy), themes of self-doubt and forbidden romance, angst, open ending, Nacht being his emo self, manga spoilers, reader cries because she feel's Nacht's regret as her own, I guess you could see reader's reaction as an anxiety attack? (if you squint then maybe), this is a tragic romance type of a oneshot, so no happy times, the romance is more of an inkling feeling and isn't established by any means, I guess that's it?

A festival. A celebration. A part of you wondered why were you even there, while another part of you knew perfectly well why. The war against devils in Spade had been won, and it was certainly a feat. A cause for a celebration. And though the kingdom needed time to heal, time to be rebuilt, people needed this celebration, this festival, moment to look into the future and enjoy themselves.

And you supposed that... that was why you were there. Though, in all honesty, you would rather have been back at the Blue Roses Headquarters, reading a book.

But some of the girls had convinced you to come along. At least see what the fuss was about. And when you asked to explore the festival on your own, they understood it. You needed space and time for yourself. They knew that there was no ill intent in you wanting to be alone, after all, you were a kind person. It just wasn’t in your nature to spend time in crowds, lots of people and chat the night away.

So, as you wandered the festival, feeling that you were fulfilling a kind of a duty to your squad mates, something...

As you were walking to a more quiet area of the festival, only a few people walking around here and there, there was a strange ... source of energy, or mana that... It wasn’t hostile, but it was...

You stopped, your affinity allowing some of that mana, some of that energy to seep into you, and then it overtook you.

Like a wave. A crushing wave of regret and pain and ... a burden so difficult to bear that you slumped to the ground with tears in your eyes that refused to stop. Your body bend over, up to a point where you were curled around yourself.

But the feeling grew stronger and stronger, until it seemed like the very weight of the heavens were on you.

And that was when you looked up.

There was a man, dressed in a black cloak. Decorated with the insignia of a bull’s skull.

And he was looking at you.

His eyes were emotionless, cold and distant, but you felt... you felt that you knew, that it was his mana, his energy that was the cause of the burden.

And something in that gaze he gave you, as if separated by a thin wall, as if a sheet of glass, still told you that he knew. He knew that you knew.

A part of you wanted an explanation. But after a moment that must’ve been only a few seconds long, despite having felt as if a life time, he turned his back and walked away. Just like that.

Just like that.

And then, the pain was gone.

It made you wonder... because the Black Bulls... they were the heroes... The war against Devils couldn’t have gotten the result as it did, without... Without... Who you thought must’ve been the Vice Captain of the Formerly Known As The Worst Squad in Clover Kingdom.

Formerly. But not anymore.

---

Nacht Faust. The Vice Captain of the Black Bulls. Even if reluctantly so. Perhaps a little bit less reluctantly so as before the events in Spade, but still somewhat reluctant.

He found himself standing on the outskirts of the city, deep in thought.

For a moment he had thought to feel someone absorbing some of his mana, even if only a little, and then... as he had approached the person, his suspicions had proven to be right. Another knight. A woman. A Blue Rose.

She had seemed in pain, because of the mana.

No... It hadn’t been just pain.

He was certain of it.

In fact, it was something that he knew far, far better than the feeling of pain. That of regret.

Past mistakes that could never be undone.

And yet, she didn’t seem like she judged. She didn’t look like she hated him for it. Instead, he... it had been almost pity, in her eyes. Almost, but not quite.

He didn’t expect her to understand.

Not even after, maybe, having felt that which he had gathered upon his very soul. Much like a shield. A token of shame.

Shame that he felt he deserved.

But he couldn’t help but feel a little intrigued by her. By the affinity, the look, and the emotions, of entirely her own, that she must’ve felt as a result of ... whatever it had been that just happened.

However, for whatever reason, he found himself thinking that... this wouldn’t be the last time that they’d meet. This wouldn’t be the last time their paths would cross.

How and why it would happen, he didn’t know.

He wasn’t sure if he cared either. How and why their paths would cross. But he didn’t dare think that she’d understand him. He didn’t think that anyone would understand him. A luxury that he wasn’t good enough.

But maybe... or... perhaps not.

If she had been in such pain just in his vicinity, then it’d be best for him to stay away. Not be intrigued. Not feel... curious. Of the woman or her affinity.

Yes... he was best, alone.

If only had he known, that she was a loner too.

And maybe, sometimes, it takes two lone souls to understand each other the best.

#black clover fanfiction #black clover oneshot #nacht x reader #nacht faust x reader #black clover x reader

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bogkeep · 1 year

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untangling my neurodivergence is such a trip like

- first time they tested me for autism i got a negative which is so funny in hindsight considering how Very Obviously Neurodivergent i was as a kid, so i had to return like OK I KNOW YOU SAID I DIDN'T AUTISM BUT CAN SOMEONE EXPLAIN WHY I AM IN CONSTANT SENSORY HELL LIKE I'VE BEEN TOLD BY RELIABLE SOURCES WEARING CLOTHES IS NOT SUPPOSED TO FEEL THIS AWFUL ALL THE TIME and on second try i got an "hmmm ok you TECHNICALLY qualify but it's SO mild you are VERY high functioning like it's very vague. barely there. but you can have the diagnosis juuust in case you want accomodations someday" <- definitely didn't carry this assessment with me for years, no sirree, definitely didn't let other people's perception of "i'm not THAT autistic" color the way i viewed and treated myself well into adulthood,,

- the odd disparity between "but i'm so helpless i don't think it's possible for me to live on my own, i don't know how to do anything, i'm going to be a child forever" and "HUH living on my own is SO nice and easy?? i'm handling adulthood so much better than i ever thought i would????" because it turns out having control over my own environment frees up so much space in my brain

- the autism nerf becomes very apparent the moment i Return Home and suddenly the old brick walls in the brain are back. suddenly somehting as easy as making a little cheese toastie, a food that i've been eating almost every day for most of my life, becomes a strenuous task because i have to navigate a now unfamiliar territory, just choosing a cheese is hard enough because some of these belong to someone else and are off limits, if i open a new cheese when there was another one already open i will be berated for it, if i use the wrong cheese that is too fatty and melty i will be berated for picking the wrong cheese, and the fridge is very full and confusing and maybe i'm just missing the most obvious cheese, i'll just ask, and of course i can always ask, i am not afraid of asking for help but i'm always so tired of being made to feel stupid and clueless for needing to ask, but if i just assume i will always make the wrong assumption, and IS IT ANY WONDER SO MANY OF US DEVELOP ANXIETY

- anyway yes i'm absolutely THAT Autistic.

#i say autistic but on paper i've got aspergers because norway uses outdated diagnoses :)#im just. mh. i know all this already but it's helpful to articulate it out #to put words to the ways i struggle instead of swallowing it down constantly #i want to do things but my brain is full of brick walls!!!!!!! it's a labyrinth up in here!!!#the thread here is that it's 'easy' to mask in a place you're familiar with #but then having the freedom to unmask - the return is always revealing

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bitchin-tubs · 2 months

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Complain time again tee hee but I’m just like UGHHHH talking genuinely to these ppl is SO hardddddd

With girl A, I spent almost a whole class lecture (friendly) debating with this one girl on why people medically diagnosed as psychopaths and sociopaths are not inherently dangerous, are not narcissistic by default and how ‘masking’ is not a form a manipulation. Her source for all of these… You. The Netflix show…

With girl B, I feel like she’s sooooo,,,, dismissive ?? Idk like I tried to introduce her to my friends once and she genuinely did not gaf. Like I said hi B this is C then she says hi to me and me only. Like my girl C is right here. But at the same time she’s always bringing me into her friend groups which is fine but I dont connect easily so most times I’m kinda just there SPECIALLY if it’s an all men group when I have specially told her I tend to be uncomfortable with men for “no” reason

I was having a conversation with girl A and the topic of autism was brought up, I told her that I think I may be low on the spectrum but there are some things I tend to relate to with autism behaviors, and considering opened up to me about her anxiety and how she had previously talked very openly abt diagnosis I thought maybe she’d get it. I know,,, self diagnosis (u are free to feel any type of way abt it) but idk I thought she’d have any type of nuanced comment about it but I should’ve known from the psychopath talk… I had told her that I find meeting new people very hard, I have difficulty talking to said people and I tend to be very restrictive about who I make a meaningful connection to. She said that my personality is and I quote “mamona” (jerk/snob/asshole ish) and completely dismissed my masking, overstimulation, 10 year old special interest, taking shit to literal and not understanding social cues or instructions as “just being different” yeah so I thought… yknow I might not have autism valid but idk I felt so ignored at that moment

Also don’t think I just unpack shit on her unannounced, we talk and convos play out as they usually do and since the topic was out I was like sometimes I wonder if I have it because of so and so plus she was unwinded with me before so it wasn’t impossible for us to talk abt personal stuff, even though we not so tight we are still close

Another thing I’m very bad at making friends, I think I mirror good enough to have nice interactions with people but not to the point they invite me to shit or talk to me outside of classes. Back when I was in my exchange program I was sharing a room with 3 swifties so I had to pretend to like Taylor swift so I wouldn’t feel singled out, I also watched the summer I turned pretty and witnessed these girls thirst over bad boy #2 when I thought the character was so shitty (the actor is good looking but I’m not attracted to him) and also would also unknowingly spend all-nighters on school nights (as in I didn’t know they were meant to be all-nighters) with them watching a movie I didn’t particularly like and see everyone thirsting over annoying man on screen (one of them was some straight outta wattpad step-sibling story ew, the other pride and prejudice IM SORRY YALL I DIDNT GET THE HYPE 😭 call me uncultured it’s okay

A and B are sólo also hardcore swifties and I can only be neutral abt her otherwise they get on my ass about it and saying I like Taylor swift or her music is too big of a lie even for me

I told girl A about this (or at least a bit) and she said that I should’ve just been me. Girl I can’t be me we were both witnessing a girl being actively bullied (tv show ass bullying they printed a picture of her and drew over it ugly, taped it to her dorm room. Still hurtful and bullying tho) I’m NOT about to ostracize myself

HOWEVERRR these are not my main friends, these are like the friends I made to not be lonely in these extra classes for an American 🦅🦅🦅 diploma. My close CLOSE friends are from my same career classes and they are so much more understanding and can interact more naturally with. So in my day to day I got good genuine friends by my side

I recognize that I can be perceiving these memories differently than how they actually happened, misinterpret their actions and just be in my feeling right now but idk I feel like I’m so difficult and constantly just have to comply with people in order to make others comfortable

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zanygamer25 · 11 months

Text

I am asexual

cw: aphobia, purity culture, slut shaming, objectification, meandering rent

So many people tell me “I can’t possibly be” for this that or the other reason and honestly this pride month I’m putting my foot down and saying I’m fucking tired of hearing that.

I was told as a child I was dressing immodestly, in a baggy t shirt and jeans. It had nothing to do with my clothes, it was always about my body itself being a source of shame and sin. I was told maybe boys wouldn’t pick on me if I didn’t flaunt my developing breasts so much, as an elementary schooler, according to a male teacher older than my father. Another child’s mom looked down at me, her eyes roamed over my body in my damp sundress after running through sprinklers and said “I would never let my daughter dress like a slut.” I wasn’t being sexual, I didn’t think of sex. But I was a slut. I was a child, in a child’s body, who needed to cover up more for inciting sexual thoughts and sexual anger in adults. I was impure before I knew what sex was. A prelude of attitudes to come.

I am asexual and I was told at church I would have to have sex whenever and however my future husband wanted or else I’d be a bad wife. I said I didn’t want to marry or have children and was laughed at, I’d be a great wife and mother, just look at my hips, my chest. Things that had nothing to do with my own desires, I was a consumable good that was up to par. My desires didn’t matter. I would meet someone and get married, and it was impossible that I didn’t. I “needed” a husband after all, regardless of my desires.

I am asexual and when I came out to someone last week. He responds “if you didn’t have… this… would you hook up with me?” He can’t even type the word asexual back to me, it’s too horrifying to him. It’s too much. I’ve heard this a lot before. If I didn’t have “this” he alludes to it like it’s an illness that can’t be spoken about. I ask him if he means my sexuality. He says “yes, I wish you weren’t like this.” If I didn’t have my sexuality, if I was a fundamentally different person who looked the same, he would be happy. If from the time I was 5 years old proclaiming my best friend as my “crush” in my limited understanding of romance that would never align exactly with the definition everyone else used. My exploration of relationships, my conclusions for myself. If you could wipe off my entire life and take the shell left behind once you ripped out my inner self, you’d be happy using it to pleasure yourself. never mind about what I want. It’s such a tragedy for you that I’m asexual. It’s a scene that’s played out a dozen or more times since I became an adult.

I hate him in one second after weeks of amicable chatting and gaming as friends. It poisons everything, I wish you weren’t like this.

my extended family asks me about marriage and children. I’ll find someone, I have to. I need to. I don’t want children or a husband. I have to. I need to. I wish you weren’t like this. My doctor asks if I’m sexually active and gives me a pregnancy test before examining even though I’ve never in my life had sex and tell her as much. I must be lying. I have to be. Everyone “needs” sex. My coworkers ask me why I’m not married. I need to be, according to them. My therapist says I’m single because of my anxiety around relationships, as my anxiety lessens over time I’m more and more certain I’m asexual, maybe even aromantic, but I can’t be. “You shouldn’t be like this.”

Never mind what I want. What I know. I’m asexual, get over it.

#Rant #asexuality #long post #aromantic #purity culture #objectification #this kinda initially was supposed to be way shorter but idk I’m mad #Sorry #I legit was just GOBSMACKED that some whiny guy deadass said he wished I wasn’t myself so he could hit #dude get a flesh light #and I’m gobsmacked that this is like time number 14 it’s happened tbh #That’s so RUDE #STOP THAT #Aphobia

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corporalicent · 5 months

Text

when duty becames pleasure

nikolai lantsov x alina starkov

sinopsis: Nikolai Lantsov asked the Sun Summoner to be his wife, but just because that would be a great alliance for Ravka... right? (Inspired by the last scene of episode s2 e3)

rating: explicit (nikolai being a boobs man)

a/n: English isn't my first language, sorry if there's a grammatical error!

I'm so mad because netflix cancelled the show, but at least we got nikolina as endgame??

And sorry for not being here in two months but personal reasons kept me from writing.

Enjoy this one-shot!!

ao3

His words ran through Alina's mind. "Marry me", he said the day prior. "Our marriage is a great alliance to Ravka", at that moment Alina saw Nikolai's potential as King.

His words said one thing but his blue eyes said another. She knew he wanted more out of this marriage, she knew he couldn't say anything in front of Mal. And she knew she felt the same way.

"Please think about it, don't give me an answer right away", he told her. And since that moment, she was thinking about her answer. She had Mal on one side, her childhood and freedom. Her life without being a Grisha, without being the savior everyone is counting on.

And on the other side, she had Nikolai. He was her future. He was her future King. With him, she could be herself without having to compete with her past-self.

Her thoughts kept her up that night as the moonlight was the only source of light in her room. Alina turned and turned on her bed trying to find an answer or her sleep. And she found one of them.

Ravka needed a strong union, and whether she liked it or not, Nikolai became an important person for her the moment they met. They had so much in common, how they became an important figure for each other's people in one night; Alina becoming the Sun Summoner and Nikolai becoming Ravka's King after his brother's death.

With her answer on her mind, she decided to tell him tonight. It was dark, and he would probably be sleeping but she needed to tell him before would regret it.

She stood from her bed and walked towards the door. Her sleepwear wasn't exposed, thus she didn't need something to cover her up.

The hallway to Nikolai's bedroom was full of light as if he was waiting for her that night. With every step she took, her anxiety grew. Her doubts flooded her mind and in any second she was ready to get back to her room.

But her loyalty for Ravka made her go on.

His white bedroom door was in front of her, without even thinking of it, she knocked on his door hoping no one would answer. She heard noise coming from his room and it was getting closer to her.

Alina took a long breath before the door opened, she felt his annoyed face coming just because she woke him up. Instead, she met a surprised face from him as he opened the door. His blond hair was messy, confirming he was in bed. But from his face, it looked like he was sleeping at all, he was waiting for her.

Her eyes went directly to his exposed chest. Her gaze went quickly up to his face, but he noticed her eyes looking at him.

"Alina" he whispered. He didn't have to, his room was far away from everyone else's room. "What are you-" he was starting to ask her, but Alina cut him off with her voice. "I have my answer" her voice came out without any emotion.

"If your answer is as exciting as your tone, maybe I don't want to hear it," he replied jokely. A small laugh came out from Alina's mouth. "I'm just nervous," she said.

He didn't say anything again, he was anxious to know her answer. He wanted her, just her. He used Ravka as an excuse, Nikolai wanted Alina as his Queen.

"I accept, '' she quietly said, as if she was trying to hide her answer. But he heard, he heard clearly. Nikolai couldn't hide his smile, as if his plan was successful.

He gently took Alina's hand and made her come close to him, his gaze was hooked on her lips. And now he was really to taste them. He got his face close to her but before he could kiss her, Alina took a step back. "But no kissing before the wedding" she said firmly.

"Sure," he said as he closed his bedroom door leaving them alone. "As you wish, beautiful". He took Alina's hand and started to leave small kisses on it, "Is this ok?" he innocently asked.

She just nodded at him, thus he started to go up on her arm. "Is this ok?" he asked again, and received a small 'yes' with a laugh. With a smirk on his face, he continued going up to her neck.

He moved her hair before starting kissing it, but this time his kisses weren't quick and goofy but they were more slow and romantic. He took his time with every kiss and placed one in every inch of her neck. "Is this ok?" he asked again. She just nodded, but this time he didn't take that as an answer. "Use your words Alina, I know you can", he said confidently.

She finally said 'yes' with her face as red as Corporalki's keftas. He looked at her with a feeling of victory on his face, both of them knew this was the first time Alina was being touched like that.

He moved from her neck to the cleavage of her nightgown. He played with Alina's pleasure as he got closer to her breasts but stopped to get up to get neck. He loved to see how frustrated she got.

"You're so mean" she breathed out. She wanted his mouth near her breasts. He laughed at her comment, and continued with his game. But everytime he got to her cleavage, her breasts got more exposed to him. To the point where he could kiss one nipple and play with the other with his fingers.

Alina's breaths and moans filled his room as his mouth not only kissed but licked her nipple. With every sound she made, the more excited Nikolai got. He was so full of himself with her reaction, how powerful his mouth is on her body.

"Nikolai" she breathed out, "We shouldn't be doing this". He smiled at her comment. He left her nipple alone to see her face-to-face. "But we're not kissing, that was your only rule", his confident smile made Alina want to punch him and make love to him.

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfic #nikolai lantsov #alina starkov #nikolina #nikolina fanfic #alina starkov x nikolai lantsov #corporalicent fics #the grisha trilogy #the grishaverse

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ffjj5 · 2 years

Note

Now that Memories 2021 has dropped and we've seen so many instances of JK hovering around Jimin, fiddling around with his clothes, touching his waist, using a handheld ventilator on his chest, lifting him up, lying next to him:

Can that narrative, that he's distant and uncomfortable with Jimin and that it's almost exclusively Jimin who initiates f*cking finally die?

Or do people want to roleplay as Bill Murray in Groundhog day forever?

He has shown his love in many colorful ways. And I love gushing about it, because he's one of the sweetest people on earth.

But if some people want to be stuck with "cold and distant JK": it's their call. If they want to chew on dry, bland porridge forever, so be it. I'm over here enjoying my colorful froot loops.

As much as i would love to be able to say that the distant and uncomfortable JK narrative will go away I truly don't think it will. Jk is a sweetheart and deserves so much better, so does Jimin.

This homophobic narrative is fed by those that can't bear the thought of any member being queer, let alone in a relationship with another member. Especially JK who, to the uneducated, must be straight as he has tattoos, piercings and is muscular and that is obviously only for straight people 🙄 Jimin's sexuality isn't questioned though as he fits the typical queer aesthetic but they paint him as some sort of sex pest who relentlessly harasses JK .They ignore the fact that Jungkook is a grown ass man who could put his foot down and say if he didn't want the attention from Jimin, but from what I see he loves it.

No one is forcing JK to suck JM's ear in front of a stadium full of people, give him a hickey and talk about it proudly on camera, tattoo JM on his hand, look at JM with heart eyes, declare ,'I love you' on stage in Vegas both verbally and visually, to orbit around Jimin, to seek him out for comfort or to settle his anxiety. He is doing it because he loves Jimin and he wants to let him know and let us know.

They don't see the dainty Koo that is out there for all to see if you just look, he doesn't hide that side of him.

We know that JK gains comfort from being around Jimin, he always has, even in the early years. In the memories footage we have some big moments/gestures, but what sticks out to me is the amount of time they spend together. They are always together having fun, they love each others company, they love each other.

What many people seem to forget or not know due to a lack of life experience, is that relationships are not all about sex and grand gestures. They are about having fun together, spending time together, being attentive to the others persons needs, being a source of comfort and support, and just being there.

Side note: Recently I have noticed that more and more JK is becoming increasingly frustrated by the closet they are in. Jimin maybe too but he seems to have a better poker face

This clip is an example of that. The eye roll and sassy head lean after seeing the camera and maybe being told by someone behind the camera or even Jimin to move his hand. Whether it's because he had to hide the tattoos or just because having his hand on Jimin looked to 'gay' for that photoshoot 🙄, either way Koo is frustrated.

Sorry if this answer is a bit jumbled I was making a toad in the hole for tea while writing this (no pun intended 😉).

You can't reason with stupid, so let's all enjoy our froot loops and love Jikook and the moments we get to see and gush over them with like minded individuals. But I am sure as hell not going to let homophobia and hate go unchecked if it finds its way into my inbox.

So let's enjoy

💜💛🌈

#jimin #jungkook #jikook #park jimin #jeon jungkook #kookmin #jm #jk #thanks anon

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desertdollranch · 2 years

Text

Lyra Meadowlark, the midwife’s apprentice, was on an important errand.

An expectant mother who lived nearby had told Lyra of her intense craving for a rare treat: golden hornbeam cheese. It’s rather difficult to obtain, and expensive when it is found. It’s only produced by the elves of the sunny valleys, and is made from the nectar of a night-blooming cactus flower that only blossoms once every year. The elves then age it inside a hollowed-out dusky maple tree for another three years.

Lyra wondered why her patient, Dandelia Gemgrass, was so eager to get the cheese. She hadn’t ever tried it. “Of course, it’s not actually cheese,” Dandelia told her, "as it’s made entirely without milk. But it serves the same purpose.”

For a soon-to-be mother only days away from delivering and confined mostly to her bed, Lyra imagined that this delicacy would relieve a great deal of boredom and discomfort. So she set off into the village.

The trip in and out of the village, and to the market, should have only taken a few hours, allowing Lyra to stop at Dandelia’s house on her way home and be back no later than late afternoon. Yet now, the sun was nearly set, and she still hadn’t arrived anywhere. The road just continued through the forest. She was glad she had left her lantern clipped to the saddle.

“Isn’t that strange?” Lyra said to her horse. “There’s only one road in and out of the village. We arrived on this road, and so we must leave on this road. Why do we seem to be traveling much too far in the wrong direction?”

It was then that she thought she heard the distant sound of laughter from the roadside. She dismounted and walked towards the noise, hoping to hear it again and determine the source. If there was indeed someone nearby, maybe she could ask for help and find out where she was.

But the laughter was not distant. It was just very small. Peering up at her from the grass was a tiny troll!

“Are you enjoying my little puzzle?” the troll said. “I did it just for you.”

“What puzzle? What did you do?” Lyra asked, clenching two fists with annoyance and anxiety. She knew that trolls possessed a bit of magic. Nothing too terribly powerful. Just enough to cause mischief, although not enough to do good in the world.

Her anger made the troll laugh even more.

“Haven’t you noticed?” he asked. “I changed the direction of the road, so that you would pass right by me. I want what’s in your bag. I can smell that golden hornbeam cheese, and I want it. Give it to me!”

“Certainly not,” Lyra said. “It isn’t mine to give away.”

“Then I suppose you’ve got to solve this puzzle yourself,” said the troll. “Good luck finding your way home on a road that never ends.”

Lyra considered. If she continued on this road, she might never find her way back. She’d only go deeper into the enchanted forest, and Dandelia would continue to crave the cheese, with no satisfaction. If she gave the troll what he wanted, perhaps she could go back to the village tomorrow and try to trade something for a new piece of cheese.

Of course, that was only if the elves had brought any of it to market. Probably not. And if they did, likely they wouldn’t sell it to her again, if other people were waiting for their turn to buy it.

She thought for a moment.

“I’ll give you the cheese,” she said to the troll. “I’m sorry that I must, since Dandelia was yearning so very much for it. But before I surrender it, you have to change the road back to its original direction. And promise that you won’t make it crooked again while I’m traveling.”

“I promise,” said the troll, with perhaps the smallest bit of grumpiness. Lyra wasn’t sure how reliable a troll’s word was, but she decided to take the risk of what was going to happen next.

She slowly lifted the cheese out of the saddle bag. “You must also tell me which direction I should go,” she said to the troll.

“It’s back the way you came,” he said. “You’re closer to your destination than you realize.”

Lyra knelt down.

She held the cheese in her palm, and offered it to the troll.

He reached up with greedy hands.

Quickly, before he could grasp his treasure, Lyra snatched him up and stuffed him into the saddlebag.

She tucked the cheese into her waistcoat, and ignored the troll’s curses and protests and threats of worse mischief. Instead, she turned to address her horse.

“I smell woodsmoke. Do you?” she asked, as she climbed into the saddle.

The horse knew which way to go, and didn’t need to be told. Their destination was not too far away now, and Lyra could sense the warmth of the hearth fire, that sweet golden glow that spilled through the windows and out into the cool dusk of late summer.

Surely Dandelia would welcome her and let her spend the night. The baby was due any day now, and she would appreciate a helping hand from Lyra. Maybe she would even share a piece of the cheese over a cup of rose petal tea.

The two of them would decide tomorrow what to do with the troll.

#lyra meadowlark #götz dolls #doll horses #handmade doll clothes

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lunarstags · 1 year

Text

My fic for the Star Trek Winter Gift Exchange. @startrekwintergiftexchange

It was awkward. He never saw himself as that type of man. Not that there was anything wrong with that type of man. But… Miles sighed. This was, difficult. How do you even bring this question up to someone? But Nerys was. Well. Somehow kind of the mother of Kirayoshi. And good looking. He may be married but he still could see. And well.

“You’re looking very intently at that book,” Keiko said, mirth bubbling in her voice. Keiko. He loved Keiko. And yet, if he told her then maybe she would think he didn’t. This was difficult. Awkward.

“Just thinkin’,” Miles said with a frown.

“Anything you’d like to share?” Keiko sat down next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and relaxed his shoulder, which he didn’t even realize were tensed.

“Do you ever think about Nerys—Kira,” His eyes went wide, “I mean Kira.”

“How so?” Her voice was so sweet. Miles loved that voice.

“Well, I don’t know.”

“You like her don’t you?” Keiko’s voice was soft, not jealous, not accusatory. Kind. It was kind.

“You’re okay with that?”

“Of course I am, Miles,” Keiko smiled and there was a warm quality to it. “Love isn’t a finite source, you know, loving her won’t take any away from me.” She leaned into him, “And let’s be honest, she is incredibly attractive, you should ask her if she’d like to be apart of us.”

“Really?”

“Well yeah, but first we’d have to talk about what we want from this relationship, what we need from each other and make sure our boundaries are solid before we add her. But after that I’m more than open to it.”

“Okay.”

“So first question, what do you want your relationship to look like with me?” Keiko reached for Miles’ hand and held it in her own, her thumb rubbed against his palm.

“The same as it’s always been, us loving each other deeply, without hesitation, us as a unit.”

“And you want Kira apart of our unit? Or in a separate relationship with you? Are we all of an equal priority or?”

“I don’t know. I think I would like her to be a part of our unit. Of an equal priority, too.”

“I see—Wait. Isn’t Kira dating Dax?” Keiko’s face twisted in thought.

“Oh, yeah, but their relationship is open, last I heard, especially considering that Dax likes Worf.”

“If we get together with Kira it might end with the whole station being interconnected,” Keiko said thoughtfully, “I mean considering that people already think you and Julian are together, and Julian’s with Garak, and didn’t you think that Odo liked Kira and don’t Quark and Odo have a really…” She couldn’t think of the right word.

“Yeah.” Miles said thoughtfully.

“We’re like a bunch of plants,” Keiko thought aloud, “As soon as you peel back the soil you can clearly see all of our roots interconnected.”

They sat in silence, Miles contemplating how in just the span of a few short years the station went from a place of tension and distrust to… whatever this was. He could pin point moments of intense feelings, ranging from platonic to romantic, for each of the people on this station. Except Quark. He loathed Quark. But, he supposed, that would be an intense feeling. He remembered the way Sisko and him and been locked in a turbolift for three hours and his anxiety surrounding being stuck got into play and how Sisko had helped him through it. He engaged his mind with mechanical questions, distracting him from his fears until Dax and a repair crew had been able to get them out. He never felt so close to Sisko before that moment, but afterwards, Miles couldn’t describe how comfortable he felt around him.

And Dax, the hours they’d spent one night trying against everything, against luck itself to find a solution to the ever threatening night where the mirror universe and this universe collided with one another and it was up to the two of them to right their worlds. Dax had been so conscientious that night, bringing Miles a Raktajino before Miles had even noticed that he was thirsty.

And Julian, his closest friend, there wasn’t enough he could say about Julian.

Worf and Odo had saved his life on countless times, saved him when all hope was lost.

And Nerys. What couldn’t be said about Nerys? She was deeply, intensely passionate, fiery and caring, loving and spiritual, she was somehow the mother of his child and still not. She was graceful and thoughtful and zealously empathetic. And she was hot. Very, very hot.

***

Miles sat at a small table with Keiko, Jadzia, and Nerys. It took little work setting this up, it seemed they had all been thinking of this.

“So,” Jadzia started, “What exactly would the dynamics be?”

“Well,” Keiko said, “Miles and I talked about how we would like Nerys to be an active part of our relationship. If you’re okay with that, Nerys.”

“I’m flattered,” Nerys smiled and then looked to Jadzia, they were already holding hands, but Nerys squeezed Jadzia’s. “I mean, we’ve already talked about opening our relationship before this,” Nerys looked back over to Miles and Keiko, “And I know that I am definitely… I have feelings for both of you as well.”

Miles smiled and Keiko winked, “Are you comfortable with that, Ha’Dara?” Nerys asked Jadzia.

“Beyond comfortable,” Jadzia smiled, “I want you to do what will make you happy,” Jadzia brought the back of Nerys’ hand to her mouth and left a kiss there. “My only request is that the level of commitment we have to each other doesn’t change.” Nerys sighed and leaned into Jadzia. They were so in love. It was endearing to Miles to see this, two people just completely in love and comfortable with each other. And here they were talking about how they would integrate their lives together. And in this moment, all of them were completely happy.

#miles o'brien #keiko o'brien #jadzia dax #kira nerys #kiradax #keiko x miles #polyam #deep space nine #ds9

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