I deleted my account @baka-tsuki
For old times sake let me repost one of my favorite piece...
The day Trafalgar Law's brain stopped working...
"Captain! Captain! Your wife is fighting marines on the docks!"
Law needed a few seconds to let Bepo's words sink in.
"Wife?" he muttered, his thoughts racing as he froze on the spot. His brain struggled to process the notion that Y/n could be his wife.
"Captain?" Bepo waved his hand in front of Law's face. No reaction.
"Ah, good work, Bepo. You broke him !" Shachi and Penguin laughed, amused by their captain's dumbfounded expression.
"Yo, I'm back," you said casually, hopping onto the submarine and wiping some blood from your lips. "Um... We might need to leave like... right now, capt'" You pointed towards the army of marines chasing you.
"Law are you okay?" You approached the man who awkawardly turned away and left.
"Ah?" You raised an eyebrow but brushed it off as the marines were getting close. As everyone prepared to submerge, Law remained silent and retreated to his cabin.
Poor captain...
"Wife...?" was the only thought occupying his mind for the past few hours.
©fuumoksun - do not translate, publish on other plateforms. Headers by me
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alhaitham x reader. wc: 540. fluff. pt 3. of '—the scribe, in love.' pt. 2.
alhaitham always, always knows when something decides to worm its way into your mind. he can practically see it wiggle around, the gears in your skull turning and the cogs moving as you chew on your fingernail. the air around you almost buzzes with the energy of the idea bouncing in your head.
he watches you carefully throughout the day, one eye on his work and another on you. you keep stealing what he's sure you think are covert glances, and he bites back the urge to make a remark. instead, he decides to wait.
when you approach him in the evening, two books tucked to your chest, he knows he'll find out soon enough.
the countdown begins when you bring his head to your lap while he reads. with every page you flip above his head, he mentally marks another number.
three. two. one.
“alhaitham?”
there it is. he hums in response, eyes never parting from the words in his page.
“how do you feel about nicknames?”
now that, he did not expect. as he chooses his next words carefully, he carefully studies the glint in your eyes. idly, he wonders why you asked.
"i have no opinions about them," he says, after a few moments of silence.
"so," you stretch out the 'o' sound, "can i call you my darling?"
"unexpected." he blinks. "but i don't see why not," odd, but a harmless request.
"can i call you sweetheart too, then?"
"call me whatever you like," he sits up, deciding to get a drink of water. he only just takes a sip when you pipe up next.
"what about calling you my snookums?"
he chokes. you and your timing. "does that word even exist in the dictionary?" he asks, attempting to nonchalantly distract you.
goodness knows that if he let even a single moment of weakness show, you'd pick up on it and use the nickname on him for eternity. and if kaveh got wind of it?
the architect would haunt him with it for months.
you sigh, and that's when he knows you're nowhere near done. but you say nothing, so he assumes you're satisfied for the time being.
hours later, night blankets sumeru city, inky sky enveloping all. you've been suspiciously silent about your earlier topic of conversation.
it is not until the two of you are comfortably settled in bed, your head resting on his outstretched arm as you face his chest, that he sees the gears turn once again. your eyes are soft, and your hand gently strokes his cheek.
"can i call you hai-hai?" you ask, voice not louder than a breath next to his ear.
color starts to dance on his cheeks, and he averts his eyes. he opens his mouth in protest, but words die in his throat.
who would've thought the acting grand sage, one who knows so, so many words, in so many languages, would be rendered speechless by a nickname, and such a silly one at that?
you do not wait for a response. a smile slowly spreads across your face and the hand on your face squishes, then pokes his cheek.
"hai-hai it is, then." you press a kiss to his nose. "goodnight, hai-hai."
you'd be the death of him.
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"I can't believe Feyre couldn't answer the riddle, if it was Aelin ,she would've finished in just a week"
Has it ever occurred to you that maybe Feyre wasn't loved enough to know the answer? Like she never knew what it was like being loved until Rhys and the IC.
And you comparing two very different characters is just plain stupid. Like you're comparing a highly trained fae assassin to a human.
The fact that she did all that as a 19 year old human proves how strong and awesome she is.
.......
REPOST⚠️
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