#Everywhere I put him there are odd spaces

[somegrumpynerd]

I love Asgore, I do. He's big and sweet and I care for him.

But why is his GOD DAMN HEAD so BIG

[allpiesforourown]

Guys is this a safe space because lately I've been thinking about nothing but omegaverse role reversal au . Can you imagine it. Possessive jealous alpha binghe and his omega disciple shen yuan who doesn't notice anything odd about his shizuns behaviour because he transmigrated from a world where everyone is a beta

Binghe would constantly insist on "showing shen yuan a sword move" or "fixing his robe" and shen yuan would think nothing of it because surely he needs to learn these things! He has no idea his shizun is touching him everywhere to cover him in his scent when shen yuan mentions he's going to talk to Liu qingge or Yue Qingyuan ..

Oughhhh Binghe would be so normal. He would be So Normal. He definitely doesn't have dreams about shen yuan going into heat every night. (Unfortunately shen yuan uses suppressants because he hates airplane for writing this omegaverse shit)

Also just throwing it out there I think Luo binghe and Liu qingge would fight over who is shen yuan's "provider" like

Liu qingge: shen yuan I caught and killed a wild animal for you. *side eyes Binghe* like an alpha SHOULD

Shen Yuan: oh um thanks...

Binghe: a-yuan, I cooked dinner :) perfectly toasted and spiced

Shen Yuan: oh I can't wait to eat it :D

Binghe to Liu qingge: HA. IM THE ONE WHO PUTS FOOD ON HIS PLATE. IM HIS ALPHA

Qingge: THIS IS BULLSHIT, MAKING CONGEE ISNT HUNTING

[silens-oro]

Well Enough Alone: Baby Blurb #7

Not all fics have adult content, but this blog is 18+. Andrew "Pope" Cody x f!Reader (nicknamed Hawk) Animal Kingdom Masterlist Pope x Hawk Playlist Well Enough Alone Baby AU Masterlist

General Synopsis: Hawk has a late night craving and gets more than she bargained for. Word Count: 2.5k Content Warning: childbirth, but nothing in detail. AN: please don't make me go back to the main WEA fic. I'm begging. please comment & reblog :)

It was a rare night when Lena stayed with Baz instead of at Hawk and Pope’s place, and tonight was one of those rare nights. Hawk hit the eight and a half month mark and she felt every bit of those eight and a half months. Her back ached, her boobs were sore every waking second, she was always hot, and the near constant heartburn was driving her crazy. 

Hawk’s sleep schedule had been thrown out of whack by the seventh month, and she was now up at odd hours of the night —occupying herself with the plants in the garage or going for late night swims in the pool if Pope was up with her. Most of the time, though, she’d just sit up in bed while Pope slept beside her, murmuring to baby Thalia about anything and everything that happened throughout the day, or plans they had coming up, or anything Pope did in the nursery to get things ready for her arrival. Pope would wake up to full on one sided conversations Hawk would be having with the baby, taking their kicks and punches as confirmations to her questions. He’d smile into his pillow as he listened, not wanting to disturb Hawk’s ritual that became a more frequent occurrence the later in her pregnancy she got.

Hawk had taken her maternity leave from the shop at the eighth month mark at Pope’s request. If she had it her way, she’d still be working up until she went into labor, but Pope insisted she needed to take it easy because she could. Not everyone was afforded that luxury, he reminded her, so she should take it while she could.   

Pope had been on edge the further along Hawk got, especially now that she was feeling the full brunt of the pregnancy. Her due date was inching closer and closer and he was chomping at the bit for this to be over, for Hawk to be safe and for the baby to finally be here. He was with her everywhere she went, giving her just enough space to not feel suffocated, but he hovered all the same. He had the occasional nightmares of something happening to her, or the baby, and the days that followed those were unrelenting to him. He just wanted them safe and healthy, and he’d do everything in his power to make that happen, even if it meant keeping Hawk at arm’s length.  

Tonight though, Hawk’s cravings were out in full force and she was taking no prisoners. Pope, god love him, only put up a small resistance at leaving the house at three in the morning with Hawk in tow because she would not give up. They took Hawk’s small SUV when they needed to go anywhere together nowadays because she had a hard time climbing in and out of Pope’s massive truck by the time she was five months along. This all led them to where they were now -driving along the coastline to one of the local 24 hour donut shops at two in the morning. 

Pope’s right hand held Hawk’s, his thumb rubbing over the top of her hand affectionately as he drove with the stereo playing in the background. 

“I can’t believe how close we are.” Hawk breathed out, letting the salty sea air hit her face from the open passenger window. 

“Only a few more weeks.” Pope glanced at her, grinning softly. 

“Believe it or not, I’m gonna miss doing all of this. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done to get us ready for this. I love you so much, Andy. I really mean that.”

“I know you do.” He kissed her hand, “and I’d do it a dozen more times if you’d let me.”

“Settle down,” Hawk laughed, head tilted back. “I’ll settle for maybe one more, but you’re out of luck for the other eleven.”

“You mean that?”

“That you’re not getting your baker’s dozen of kids? Yeah, I mean that.” Hawk scoffed.

“No, that you’d have another.”

“Possibly.” She shrugged, “I actually liked being pregnant more than I thought I would. Granted, there are things about it that drive me nuts, but I wouldn’t trade this experience with you for the world.” Her other hand rested on her bump, rubbing circles to feel the baby move. Hawk grunted when Thalia gave a particularly strong kick. “She wants a cruller…and a chocolate frosted with sprinkles, by the way.” 

“Oh, she’s got a sweet tooth tonight?” 

“She sure does.” 

“You sure you want to get down?” Pope asked her, but Hawk was already undoing her seatbelt and propping the door open. “I can run in and out.”

“Yeah, I’m getting antsy.” She said as she heaved herself out of the vehicle. Pope was quick to come around to her side and held out his arm for her to take. Instead, she pulled him down to kiss her and she pat his ass playfully. He grinned down at Hawk with a brow raised at her boldness, but walked ahead of her to open the door like a gentleman. 

When Pope noticed Hawk wasn’t right behind him and he couldn’t hear her feet over the gravel, he turned around to see her looking down at where she was standing halfway between him and the car.

“You alright?”

“I uh, I think my water just broke?” Hawk looked up at him with wide eyes. Pope blinked at her, brows furrowing as each individual word processed through his brain until they were comprehended after Hawk repeated herself. “My water broke, Andy.” Her voice was calm, but her eyes held shock. Pope, to his credit, all but levitated over to her, trying to herd her back to the SUV. 

“What the hell are you doing?” She asked as she waddled back to the passenger side. 

“We gotta go.” Hawk gently pushed him back towards the donut shop, but he stood as solid as he ever did. 

“No, no -I need those donuts!”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m not going to be able to eat anything for god knows how long, Andy! Do not deprive me of this one last thing before I pop our kid out.” Pope wanted to argue, to toss Hawk into the car and fly to the hospital “-and I don’t want to get the seat wet.” Hawk mumbled as an afterthought as she shimmied one of her legs to kick off the remnants that were dripping down it uncomfortably. 

Pope leveled her with a look, then against his better judgement he turned and went inside the shop, shaking his head the whole way. He waited in line, but kept an eye on her as she waddled back and forth next to the car, shaking her legs every few steps. She sent him two thumbs up with a big smile when she caught him watching. He could only nervously half-smiled back, but inside he was panicking. 

Pope’s heart pounded in his chest as he placed the order, his mind going on cruise control as he realized that the baby was coming, and she was coming early. Two weeks early wasn’t a big deal, Pope knew this, but it still worried him that something could possibly be wrong. 

Pope jogged outside once he had the bag and picked up his speed when he saw Hawk slightly bent against the door, clutching the metal and trying to steady her breathing with her forehead pressed against her arm. 

“Why are you still outside?” He pulled his sweatshirt over his head and opened the passenger door so he could set it on her seat before helping her in, placing the paper bag on her lap. 

“I didn’t want to get the seat wet. We’ve already discussed this.” Hawk peeked in the paper bag and smiled. Pope hustled to the driver’s side and they were flying out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell. 

“Are you timing the contractions?” His fingers tapped against the steering wheel. 

“Considering that was my first one? No,” She said as she stuffed half of the cruller into her mouth. 

“You’re killing me, Hawk.” Pope groaned. His knuckles were white against the steering wheel and the last thing Hawk needed was for Pope to have a coronary while he was driving. 

“Hey,” Hawk said firmly to ground Pope, her hand reaching over to squeeze his bouncing thigh, “Look at me.” Pope glanced over to her, then back to the road. “I am fine. The baby is fine. We’re going to be okay. Just get us to the hospital safely, alright? That’s all you need to worry about right now.” Pope nodded, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. “We’re going to be parents, Andy.” That seemed to settle him for a split second.

“Are you nervous?” He asked, full irony present, nervously. 

“I’m fucking terrified,” Hawk answered honestly, “but I’m also so excited to meet Thalia.” 

“We’re gonna meet Thalia.” Pope repeated, his eyes fluttering as nerves wracked his entire body. Hawk smiled at him tenderly and squeezed his leg when another contraction hit. 

To Pope’s credit, he tried not to glare at everyone who came in and out of the room once they were settled in, especially when Hawk winced as they checked how dilated she was. And then they kept checking. He was becoming more agitated than she was, but he kept it to himself for her sake. 

By the time they made it to the hospital, Hawk was four centimeters. He knew they needed to make it to ten, so he did everything he learned through his hours upon hours of research through articles, YouTube videos, and message boards. 

Hawk held onto his arm as he walked the halls with her, he let her squeeze any part of his she could get her hands on when a contraction hit, and he soothed her, letting her know he was staying right there with her through all of it. He had the nurses being in a yoga ball so she could open her hips and alleviate some of the pressure in her spine.  

Pope wasn’t a stranger to birth and just how brutal it was. He helped deliver Deran on the dirty bathroom floor of a gas station when he was a troubled teen, and that had been traumatic for everyone involved. Now, he just had to support Hawk in any way he could as she pushed with the best team of doctors and nurses, in the nicest hospital they could afford. He wanted this experience to be as beautiful as it could be for Hawk -and Thalia, when she finally made her appearance. 

It was seven hours of grueling labor, of screaming, crying, and pushing, but she did it. 

Pope didn’t care how many strangers were in the room —the second he heard his daughter’s thunderous wails echo in the room, he felt like he was floating off the floor in absolute euphoria. Hawk was crying tears of happy relief when a nurse placed a teeny, tiny bundle on her chest, her shaking arms holding the now quiet infant to her after she had been checked out and cleaned up. The team was finishing up all of the afterbirth tasks and the adrenaline was still pumping through her. Pope was right up at her side, looking down at Hawk with pride bursting through his chest. 

“Oh, my girl.” Hawk cooed quietly, her voice shaking as her fingertips brushed against the baby’s cheek. The infant’s just looked up at Hawk. “Welcome to the world, my Thalia.” Pope kissed Hawk’s sweaty forehead, lingering long enough to say how proud of her he was and how much he loved her. How grateful he was. His eyes shined with unbroken tears and he held Hawk’s shoulders as they both looked down at the now sleeping infant. 

The room had quieted down as everyone left to give the new parents some time alone as a family. 

“We did it.” Hawk whispered, looking up at Pope. He leaned down to kiss her lips, his hand bracing her arm so Thalia didn’t jostle. “I can’t believe she’s here.”

“She’s beautiful.” Pope whispered against the crown of Hawk’s head. “You don’t understand how much this means to me. What all of this has meant to me.”

“You deserve happiness, Andy. We both do.” He nodded, allowing himself to feel the happiness he was never afforded as he continued watching Thalia’s every little movement. “You want to hold her?” Hawk asked with a knowing grin. His palms were itching, she could tell, but he’d never rush her first time holding the baby she carried and delivered selflessly. 

“Really?” Hawk chuckled, wincing as it started a round of cramping from her waist down. 

“Yes, really. She’s your daughter, Andy, and you’ve waited long enough to meet her.” 

Pope pumped some sanitizer into his palm from the bedside table. The act itself was second nature as the man had a germ phobia (and kept a bottle of Purell in nearly every room of the house), and he made damn sure that his daughter would be well protected from things that could be prevented. 

Hawk patted the side of the bed near her hip and he gently sat down, his body angled towards her. When Pope felt the minuscule weight of his tiny daughter in his hands, the tears that had built finally fell. A small sob broke through his trembling lips as he bent down to give her tiny forehead a kiss.

Hawk’s hand soothed his leg, rubbing circles as she saw the immediate bond he lassoed around Thalia take place. Hawk was exhausted, but the smile never left her. Thalia opened her eyes when Pope pulled back and his jaw fell ever so slightly. He didn’t try to hide any of the emotions he usually kept tight under lock and key, leaving himself wide open and vulnerable to the only two people he’d allow himself to be around. 

“Hi, Thalia.” Pope got choked up, “I’m your dad and I already love you so much.” He said softly, words shaking. Hawk had never seen the smile he gave Thalia before. It lit him up completely from the inside out, and it was enough to send Hawk into another round of happy tears. Pope brought Thalia up to his chest and just held her there for a moment with his eyes closed as he tried to steady his breathing. She cooed and gurgled for a moment before settling against the heat he radiated, and Pope felt it send a shock wave through his system. 

How could Baz, or Smurf, or any of them see what he saw or physically feel what he felt while looking down at the infant they made and not want to give their child everything they had in them? How could Baz look at Lena and not feel grateful that this piece of him and Cath was on this planet? Pope didn’t understand it before becoming a father, but now? He couldn’t comprehend it. 

Pope would move mountains, he’d split rivers, he’d kill or be killed for Thalia. He only had her for minutes and yet he’d burn the world and everyone in it for her. 

“This doesn’t feel real.” Pope whispered, not wanting to disturb Thalia as she fell asleep. Hawk had given him the greatest gift anyone could have given him in his life, and he had no way to outwardly express to her how precious she and their daughter were to him in that very moment. 

she's heeeeeeeeeere

[revelboo]

I JUST WANTED YO LET U KNOW I GOT CONFIDENT ENOUGH TO WRITE MY OWN FANFICTION BECAUSE OF YOU!! ✨✨💕

(that's all I'm sorry 🥺)

Do it! We need more writers! Spread the Transformers corruption

True Romance Pt 14

Trine x Reader

• Trying to ignore Thundercracker, Skywarp mass displaces and sprawls out alongside you in the nest Thundercracker has made for you. Hears your startled noise and grins. Tossing an arm across your middle and burying his face against your warm throat as Thundercracker vents at him. “You like me best, don’t you? I’m more fun,” he purrs, mouth against your skin. Wondering exactly how much you’ll let him get away with.

• Shivering as he vents against you, lips brushing your skin, you stare up at Thundercracker’s disapproving frown. “I like all three of you.” Which is true and probably safer than playing favorites given how mercurial Skywarp can be. Wanting all of your attention mainly whenever someone else has it. Shifting to lean over you, propping himself up on a hand, even at this size he’s much bigger than you are. That crooked grin of his all mischief as he bumps his helm against your forehead, invading your space.

• “Do you?” Thundercracker asks despite himself as you look at him. Because that’s a whole other possibility he hasn’t considered. Instead of vying for your attention, just sharing you. Star’s always taken the lead with their Trine, but he’s sure Star cares for you, too. He’s just too busy worrying over them, his duties, and now you to get to show it much. “You want to stay with us? Belong to us?” Mass shifting, he ignores when Skywarp flares his wings. “Choose us?” It’s not like sharing is completely unheard of for Trines. Rare, but it does happen.

• There’s a silken edge to Thundercracker’s words you’ve never heard before that spins you tight. Because you’re not so sure he’s talking about keeping you like a pet anymore. That this question is important and you need to understand what he’s asking before you answer. Feeling strangely strung tight with anticipation as he stretches out on your other side, propping himself up with an arm. “If I did?” You ask as he traces his servos down your arm and pulls your hand to him to press against his chassis as if he wants you to feel the thrum of his spark. Sandwiched between them, feeling their warmth, you’re aware of everywhere they’re touching you. That this is different.

• Letting himself back into his shared habsuite, Starscream hesitates until he finds his Trine. Venting when he spots them almost pinning you in a nest of blankets, leaning over you. Knows you’re not doing it on purpose, not trying to antagonize them by putting them at odds with each other. Making them compete for your affection. And you don’t understand that having you around, alternating who you rest with every night is making this harder on all of them. Your affectionate nature sending mixed messages. But his brothers aren’t rumbling at each other now. Aren’t snarling. Optics narrowing as he plants a hand on the berth and leans over the three of you, he watches Skywarp mouth your neck as your hooded eyes lock with his optics. “If I chose all three of you?” You ask, voice little more than a whisper as his wings lift with the question. Hearing the cautious invitation in your words, the submission.

Previous

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[crescenthistory]

Ohh you should not tempt me when it comes to Barty. May I request an ARGUE with roommate Barty ⁶⁴⁾ movie nights please??thank you in advance, have a lovely day!

YES i see you picking up the things i was putting down in the last drabble — movie night's coming up. thank you, hope you're having an even lovelier day<33

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ARGUE for prompt 64 "movie nights" with roommate!barty

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

previous roommate au drabble

cw: reserved!reader, not yet established relationship, physical affection, tension, fluff, gn!reader, implied financially unstable reader

wc: 1.3k

It was a seemingly normal, domestic tradition, you supposed. One that most roommates engage in, especially if they were friends from before.

While you and Barty most certainly were strangers when you moved in, you had to admit you were warming up to him – your connection might even be labelled a friendship. You were generally careful with such assertions, one to take it step by step and bide your time, but Barty made it easier to be brash. He had that effect on people, and you were most certainly not immune.

Thus, when he insisted on weekly – “biweekly at the very least, Dragă” – movie nights from essentially your first week of living together, you weren't one to argue. This man was renting you a comfortable room in a sizable flat for a price that seemed to mock the current housing market, after all. If movie nights are his big demand, you just considered yourself lucky.

You had one settee and one regular sofa situated around a TV screen that probably cost more than you earned in a year. Where you sat and what you watched seemed to vary greatly from night to night; Barty was not one for routine, you had come to learn, despite his insistence on certain rituals. 

Luckily for you, that meant he often let you choose.

“What’re we watching tonight, darling?” Barty asked as he plopped down beside you on the dark green settee, despite there being ample room everywhere else. He wasn’t fond of space, not with you. He leaned his head back against the cushion, hair blending in with the fabric, and rolled it to the side to look at you. It amazed you how at ease he was.

“Haven’t gotten that far yet,” you mumbled as you distractedly tried to get comfortable in your seat. 

“Something slowing you down?” You didn’t need to look at him to know he was teasing you with a raised brow.

When you did look at him, his gaze oddly softened.

“I just can’t for the life of me get comfortable.” Your muttering was something you had been shamed for in many a friendship, but strangely not with Barty. “It’s like my clothes are too tight.”

It had been a long day, working a gruelling shift to pay off your student loan debts that you preferred to pretend didn’t exist. It was the kind of shift that left you feeling uneasy more so than exhausted.

“No such thing as too tight, Dragă,” Barty drawled with glee while he slid further into his seat – clearly not facing the same issues as you, as he sprawled out like he owned the place. Probably because he did. “But maybe changing out of your clothes would help?”

You swatted at his knee closest to you in reprimand.

“Not like that,” he groaned through a grin. “Just change into your pyjamas. We’re at home.”

An odd sensation settled into your spine at him calling your shared flat home – even though you had been living here for quite some time now. You sighed and looked down on your every-day clothes with contempt. “Yeah,” you relented. “It’s just– God, it’s been a long day.”

Barty’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth pressed down into something akin to a pout, as if he was distraught that the sensory input of the day had been too much for you. “Well, the day is over and night – movie night, might I add – has commenced, so there shall be no more uncomfortableness. Go change, I’ll make tea, and we’ll be golden.”

You had been the one to convert Barty into liking tea just two months ago, which his friend, Regulus, had shamed him immensely for. You were apparently not the first person to make that conversion a mission, but you were the first to succeed. His offering to make it made you smile, even though you feared the execution of said making might turn it back upside down. 

“Thanks, B,” you mumbled, getting up and stretching out some of your body’s discomfort. “I’ll be right back.”

When you looked back down after cracking your neck, you saw his eyes still trained on you with a mixture of mirth and domesticity that seemed to contrast his general style and personality. It made you shiver a little as you moved past his sprawled out limbs, making a beeline for your bedroom. 

“You better!” he called out after you. “I’m not watching chickflicks on my own, that would be quite sad.” 

“Who said we were watching chickflicks?” You called back over your shoulder, shimmying out of your clothes. 

There was a heavy sound followed by a rustling of limbs, indicating that Barty physically rolled off the settee to get to the adjunct kitchen. On the way he murmured, “Well then, you’re no fun.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escape you, followed by a relieved sigh as you were finally clad in your preferred pyjamas. This was what you needed. It’s taken you a while to feel comfortable enough around him to be in your comfort-wear, but you were glad you were past that now and able to live freely in your current home. A voice in your head took note of how it was Barty who noticed you were uncomfortable and needed to change, a sign of familiarity that struck deeper than you anticipated.

Barty’s head picked up at the sound of you shuffling out of your room towards the kitchen to help carry the tea, and he looked at you over his shoulder with a grin. “Sleeping beauty has returned!” he declared, turning around with two steaming mugs. “Ready for a cinematic endeavour?”

A warmth crept up into your cheeks at his comment, however absentminded. “Aren’t I always?” You reached out for your mug, but he – gently – kicked you away, determined to carry them himself apparently.

“No, you aren’t. I had to talk you into this your entire first week here.” He shot you a playful glare with no malice behind it, his brow piercing tugging with the action in a way you tried to ignore.

You shrugged. “I’m still here, am I not?”

Barty breathed in sharply and nodded with faux solemnity. “And thank fucking Christ for that.”

Giving no more explanation, he set for the living room, mugs still in hand. You trailed after him, becoming more aware of the fully relaxed dynamic between the two of you and trying to disregard how much it meant. 

You sat down in your previous spots, right beside each other on the settee, with Barty setting the mugs before you, the handle turned inwards. Such a small action, yet it spoke volumes. 

As Barty settled against the cushions, one leg tossed out across the sofa and one stretching beneath the coffee table, he turned to look at you. It was a gaze you returned instantly, expecting a question, but instead he held it for a second, eyes searching yours. You realised then just how close you were to each other, how unnecessary yet somehow necessary it felt, how his hand rested mere millimetres for yours.

Then, he grinned. “Are we really not watching a chickflick?”

The laugh that escaped you was equal parts a release of your sudden onset of nerves and a genuine boisterous reaction. “Sure, B, we can watch a chickflick. Any takers on Clueless?”

Barty reached over you – more like, lunged across you – body dwarfing your lap as he dug between the cushions on the far end of the settee, producing the sleek remote. He sat back down beside you, your thighs now touching, holding the remote out for you. “As if! Hit play.”

You snorted – and then, you hit play. Retrieved your mug from the table and, subtly, settled back down against his side, bodies now fully touching. Barty leaned equally into you as he threw his long legs out on top of the coffee table, body somehow both steady and liquid.

You couldn’t claim that movie nights were a bad idea.

[disneyprincemuke]

count on us * fem!driver

she often forgets that she’s got a support system she can ask for help from

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

warnings: stalking, mentions of violence, cursing

notes: i think it's so funny how i took so long to write this that i'm only writing a note like 5 minutes after posting this LMFAO

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

sebastian looks up from his phone, the noticeable lack of a woman’s voice finally sinking in. now that he thinks about it, it’s been suspiciously too long for his driver to be missing.

he raises an eyebrow as he scans the garage for the familiar face, but alludes to nothing.

he presses his lips together, silently exiting the garage to find himself in the paddocks. sending her a quick text to ask her where she is, he puts the phone into his back pocket as he makes it a mission to find the small girl.

in the crowd of people who are heads taller than her, it’s deem an almost impossible mission.

“hey, seb,” max greets him with a nod and a smile, almost passing him nonchalantly.

until sebastian reaches out to stop him. “have you seen (y/n)?”

“i have not,” max frowns. “is something wrong?”

“yeah,” sebastian turns in a circle where he is, gesturing to the empty space by him, “my shadow is missing.”

max raises his eyebrows. “that’s true. she’s usually always around you.”

“if you see her, can you give me a call?” sebastian asks. max gives him a nod before bidding him a goodbye.

he spends the better part of the next twenty minutes trying to spot her, walking the paddocks twice for good measure. yet she is nowhere to be found.

he’s asked four more different drivers if they’ve chanced upon her presence, yet there is nobody that’s seen her.

not logan, and not even oscar. which is odd.

not even a response from you. so, he goes to the one place he hasn’t tried: her driver’s room. she doesn’t frequent staying in too long on media day, claiming that she’s trying to get used to the environment of formula 1.

which, is actually working. there are times she’s able to roam the paddocks and go to interviews by herself. but half the time, sebastian or someone else does an interview with her as a calming tactic.

he knocks on her door once and goes without an answer. he knocks another time before he hears shuffling from the other side of the door.

the door squeaks open, the shorter woman peeking through the small opening she’s allowed. “yeah?”

“i’ve been looking for you everywhere. why aren’t you texting me back?” sebastian asks, looking the door up and down. “and why won’t you open the door all the way?”

“just wasn’t feeling well,” she says softly with a sigh. her head is dropped low, as if to avoid any forms of eye contact. “my room is a mess.”

“you’re not well? why didn’t you tell me?” sebastian questions with the raise of his eyebrow. “can you let me in? let’s talk in private.”

she presses her lips together, as if considering her options. ultimately, she shakes her head. “we can talk here.”

“kid, you’re being very weird. i’m concerned and-“ he pauses, dropping his head slightly to meet her puffy eyes. “have you been crying?”

she tilts her head away from him and lets her hair drop to the side of her face. “none of your business, seb.”

sebastian sighs, leaning on the door frame. “if something is wrong, you can talk to me, you know? i won’t tell anybody.”

“just the hormones,” she croaks, still avoiding his eyes. “i’ll come out in a while for my interviews. i just need a while.”

he hums. “okay. i’ll be in the garage waiting for you, okay? text me when you’re coming out.”

“okay.” and then she closes the door on him.

oscar steps right by the garage’s entrance, careful not to cross the line that would consider him inside. “seb.”

sebastian pops up from behind the car. “oscar! what’s up?”

“(y/n) hasn’t been picking up my calls,” he admits with a sigh. “i’ve been trying to get a hold of her since we arrived on tuesday. have you got any idea where she is?”

“what?” sebastian glances at his watch. “she should’ve been out of her room by now. hasn’t she got an interview with you and logan?”

“that’s why i’m looking for her,” oscar frowns. “i had to ask lando to go first and cover for us. logan and i have been texting her but she never answers.”

“she’s been acting weird all day,” sebastian voices out in concern. “i swear she looked like she was crying when i dropped by her driver’s room earlier.”

“crying? that doesn’t happen often,” oscar mutters. “has she told you what’s bothering her?”

“she just shut the door on me and said she’d be out in a while,” sebastian shrugs. “what do you think is wrong with her?”

“i’m okay,” a small voice comes from behind sebastian. the two men turn their attention to her with puzzled expressions on their faces. “what?”

“no shorts for you today, mate?” oscar asks, eyeing her up and down. “it’s not that cold out today. why the sweatpants and jacket?”

“repping your team today, aye?” sebastian teases, reaching out to nudge her shoulder. “getting into the racing spirit, i see.”

“these were the only clean clothes i had in my bag,” she sighs, rubbing her eye. “i woke up late and i didn’t pack my bag last night. this was all i had in my driver’s room.”

“you could’ve asked me for a shirt,” sebastian shrugs. “you don’t have to get all warm in a jacket.”

“i’m alright, thank you,” she smiles politely. she grins at oscar. “we’re late for the interview, right? let’s go?”

oscar nods, watching in disbelief as she walks past him to get ahead. “yeah,” he says under his breath. exchanging a worried glance with sebastian, he quickly jogs to catch up with her. “hey, wait for me.”

“thank you so much for your time, and good luck for the weekend,” the interviewer smiles.

the three rookies mutter a mix of thank you’s. notably, the girl sat between the two boys stands up with her hands in her pockets.

“hey, are you on mute today? what’s got you so quiet?” logan calls out to the girl who’s already halfway out the door, slowly standing from his own seat.

“nothing, i’m just tired,” she answers monotonously, turning on her heel. “can you guys walk me back to my garage today? i know you haven’t in a while, and like, you don’t actually have to. i’m capable of walking the paddocks myself. but i thought it would be–“

oscar holds up his hands in front of her. “we’ll walk you back. no need to explain yourself.”

she huffs, dropping her head low again. “okay. thank you.”

logan raises his eyebrow. “you’re not fighting with me today?”

“just really tired,” she repeats, then putting the hood of her jacket over her head. “have you guys eaten? wanna go to the cafeteria with me and grab a bite?”

“i’ve got an interview panel in like 5 minutes,” oscar frowns, slinging his arm around her shoulder. “i’m sorry. maybe logan can go with you?”

“i’ve got to film some marketing stuff with alex for williams,” logan mirrors the frown on oscar’s face. “how about we go dinner right after? it’s my last commitment of the day.”

“oh, mine too.”

“then that’s okay. i’ll just eat in my hotel room.”

the disappointment that laces her voice is prominent enough for the two young boys to exchange a worried glance.

so, logan bends down with a warm smile. typically, his snide remarks and playful tone would have been enough to get a confession out of her. so he takes the route. “where’s the remote for your chatterbox function? i want it turned up.”

“maybe tomorrow, logan. i’m very tired,” she dismisses the american, eyes still trained on her feet as they walk.

“come on, seriously,” oscar grabs her shoulders, planting her on the spot while they surround her. “what’s wrong?”

“literally nothing,” she glances up, looking into their eyes briefly. she drops her head once more and walks around them to continue making her way down the pathway.

“you’ve got to tell us someday,” oscar mutters to logan, following behind her. “you eventually give us hints, you know.”

“i won’t,” she whips back quickly, “because nothing is wrong. i’m just feeling a little under the weather.”

“you’re not fighting with me, so i don’t know, dude,” logan whispers, eyes wide at her sudden change in behaviour. “not sure which version of you i like more. i miss your chaos.”

“stop worrying,” she huffs, coming to a stop in front of her racing home. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? i’m heading back to the hotel early.”

she doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns on her heel to walk towards her doors.

oscar reaches out quickly, pulling her back towards them. “i’m only letting you go if you promise to stop ignoring our texts in the groupchat.”

“yeah, it’s sad talking to myself,” logan frowns. “oscar’s not a great texter. and he doesn’t even watch my tiktoks.”

“yeah, i do! i just don’t answer.”

“really? what tiktok did i send last?”

“that one edit about that banana cat!”

“liar! (y/n) sent that like a week ago! oscar!”

“well, you send too many! i can’t possibly sit down and watch 20 tiktoks, logan!”

“this is not what we should be worried about right now!” logan says, turning to the girl staring up at them with doe eyes. “watch my tiktoks. seriously.”

she smiles, yet the sadness in her eyes is so unmissable. “okay, i promise. and i’ll text you when i’m back in my hotel room.”

“you better actually text us,” oscar scoffs with an eyeroll. “i know your room number. i will come up and tear your room apart if you don’t.”

“okay,” she laughs. “i will remember to text you.”

she sits quietly at the dinner table, phone buzzing the table off as she continues to gobble down her chicken wing. she stares at the table blankly as she chews consistently.

“are you not gonna pick up your phone?” max asks, putting his spoon and fork down on the plate.

the constant buzzing had been going on for almost 5 minutes, and at first, he wasn’t going to say anything. but isn’t 5 minutes too long to leave your phone unanswered if there is a possible pressing matter at hand?

“oh, i’m sorry. i hadn’t noticed,” she says softly, grabbing her phone. she glances at the screen and all the colours from her face visibly drains and she puts the phone down on her lap. “sorry.”

“it’s something wrong? why didn’t you pick up?” max asks, continuing his meal.

“just the family groupchat going off as always after my interviews for the day,” she laughs nervously, returning to her state of blank stares and eating her dinner. “i’ll answer them later.”

“isn’t dalton gonna nag your head off if you don’t answer now?” oscar chuckles.

they had managed to convince the girl to come out for dinner. but it’s only sparked up more concern between him and sebastian as she opted to be out in her team merch again.

that’s after she swore up and down that she wouldn’t be caught dead in them in normal circumstances where they’re not needed. which also raised max’s eyebrows when he walked into the restaurant and was shocked by the striking purple that made their table stand out amongst the rest.

“he can wait a while longer,” she shrugs.

max pouts his lips. “why are you in team merch, anyway?” he asks, reaching out to pull on the material of her jacket. “you made fun of me for like 4 days straight when you realised i wear red bull merch too often.”

“i have to say i kinda get where you’re coming from,” she answers calmly. “they’re very comfortable.”

“comf–“ max looks around the table in disbelief. “you said that even if they’re comfortable, they’re not very ‘going out’ outfits. what?”

she turns to look at him, bored. “i changed my mind. you’re actually right.”

max sinks into his seat. “what’s gone wrong with the world?”

yuki had been minding his own business, scrolling on instagram when he heard a familiar squeak by a quiet corner outside the paddock’s gantries.

“hey, leave me alone!” a hushed voice says, before he hears shoes thumping against the floor. “i’ll give you the stupid pass if you never bother me again.”

“c’mon. that wasn’t the only agreement we came to. you have to let me take you out on a date,” a deeper voice says.

“yeah, not a chance! you think stalking me for two races and sending me unsolicited pictures would help your chances?” he recognises that voice.

he peeks over the corner, eyebrows raising in shock when he sees the driver push the unnamed man away from her.

“and if you weren’t scared of what i have in here,” he lifts up his hand to show her something, “then you wouldn’t have answered my messages.”

there’s silence for a while, before she grunts. “fine, whatever. here’s your pass. leave me alone in the paddocks, seriously.”

yuki studies the man’s face, before scrambling to walk away from where he is. he hums, walking as fast as he can to the gantry without looking suspicious.

when she pops up next to him, chest heaving with a sweaty forehead, she smiles. “hi, yuki.”

so he smiles back. “hi.”

and then he makes a sharp left after entering the paddocks, on his way to find max. the driver had mentioned the girl acting suspicious and asking a favour of him and daniel to keep an eye on her.

he never actually expected to be the one who find out.

“i think i know what’s bothering her,” yuki says softly, pulling max away from gp with an apologetic smile. he’s thankful that the engineers had been working on the car. he doesn’t have to hush himself so much after all. “i saw her… right outside the paddocks just a while ago.”

“seriously? you didn’t fucking tell us someone was harassing you?”

she sighs, arms folded over her chest as she looks between the men towering over her. she sinks into the comfort of her beanbag chair, defeated by their efforts to find out what’s wrong.

“and we had to find out from yuki because he was fortunate enough to overhear your conversation outside the paddocks?” sebastian shouts. “what the hell! that’s so dangerous.”

“he has pictures from my cloud, seb! that means screenshots of our conversations and my private pictures! i can’t risk that getting out! i’m hated enough as it is!” she explains, trying to reason out before getting another scolding. “can you please see where i’m coming from here?”

“no, because meeting him all by yourself is absolutely fucking insane!” logan throws his hands in the air, trying to make her see how ridiculous the whole situation is. “dude, you could’ve been mauled! nobody even saw you leave the paddocks.”

“imagine what could’ve happened to you? what would we tell your parents?” max adds on, hands on his hips. “this was very reckless.”

“i-“

“and if he planned to physically hurt you, what were you planning on doing?” logan cuts her off, hands on his hips as he grows more frustrated. “did you actually have a plan or were you just winging it?”

“it’s not even that. the way you thought this was even a good idea is beyond me!” sebastian tugs at the roots of his hair. “you should have told somebody!”

tears start to fill her eyes, lips pouted out as they start to quiver. the harassment had started about two weeks ago during their previous race.

initially, she had marked out the instagram dm to be from a spam account. until they sent her a picture only she would be in possession of: her and logan at a beach club from when he was 20 and she was 18 in barcelona.

suddenly the messages and the threats didn’t stop. she couldn’t only think of the repercussions it would have on her career, but everybody else’s who is involved in her life.

her cloud includes a collection of screenshots from their most ludicrous conversations and night outs.

“hey, i was only doing that to protect everybody i know!” she shouts, tears starting to spill out of her eyes. “there’s pictures and screenshots i’m sure each and everyone of you would like out of the public eye! i’ve got a fucking video of you,” she points at max, “giving daniel a lap dance in zandvoort!”

she points at logan, “and you,” then oscar, “and you wrestling to push each other into the pool in your underwear from years back!”

she turns to sebastian. “and you drunkenly crying because you regret retiring from formula 1!” she pushes herself off the seat. “i didn’t know what else to do. i’m sorry, but i didn’t see it going any other way than me caving in to what he wanted me to do.”

“i don’t know, get a fucking lawyer and sue his ass?” max asks.

“yeah, i’ve not got the funds for that! thanks for noticing!” she screams at the older driver, stomping her feet into the ground. “god, i didn’t know what to do, okay?”

she looks at the man in the corner of her room, leaning against the wall staring at the ground blankly with his arms in the pockets of his shorts.

“well, you’re awfully quiet, aren’t you?” she points out. “nothing else to add on with everybody’s criticism of how i seem to have mishandled the situation?”

oscar looks up, meeting her eyes for a split second before looking away again. he presses his lips together. “it was reckless,” oscar says. he shrugs when she prompts him for a longer answer. “it’s done and it’s over. let’s figure out how to get him to bugger off, yes?”

“yes, but you have got to realise how wrong this could have gone so easily,” sebastian sighs, slightly calmer than he was a few seconds ago. “come on. be realistic.”

she frowns. “i didn’t know what to do, okay?”

max sighs, walking over to her. he lays his hand on the top of her head and pats it gently. “i’m sorry for shouting at you. i was just concerned. something bad could have really happened to you.”

“i know, but-“

“it’s okay,” max soothes her, pulling her into his arms for a hug. “you held a potential scandal off pretty well. but don’t do it like this again.”

“this is never going to work,” she mutters under her breath. after a wonderful qualifying session, she stands in her least favourite dress.

“it’ll work,” max mutters, “i’m max verstappen.”

“literally what’s that got to do with anything?” she scowls, extending her hand out to land a hit on his arm. “that name means nothing to this man!”

“you don’t know that. i’m a very powerful man,” max mutters dejectedly, hand pressed against his chest to feign hurt. “you’re not very nice.”

“shut up,” sebastian mutters, rolling his eyes at the two unlikely drivers to have gotten along very well. “we spent all qualifying session thinking of a way to get you out of this. be quiet.”

“fine,” she says softly, folding her arms. she takes a step back and sighs as logan takes her into his side for a comforting hug. “i didn’t know what else to do.”

“it’s okay,” logan whispers, rubbing her arm. “it’s over now. we’ll handle it for you.”

“i’m handling it for you,” sebastian mutters.

he straightens his shirt and stands a little taller as a figure comes down the dark alley of the paddocks.

“oh, you brought back up?” the man, who sebastian has come to know as ryan, grins. “big fan.”

“shut the fuck up,” max says, stepping forward when he stops in front of her.

“yeah, here’s how it’s gonna go,” sebastian says, pressing his palm into max’s chest to stop him. “you’re going to hand over that thumb drive or she sues you.”

he scoffs. “with what money? she’s only an underpaid rookie.”

“she’s got a whole grid of 21 other rich drivers ready to back this lawyer up,” sebastian says calmly. “don’t make it any harder for yourself. just hand it over before you get served.”

“i call bluff,” he shrugs simply. “you don’t want something like this out in the media.” he tilts his head to throw a teasing stare at the girl in logan’s arms. “especially not when it’s tied to her name.” he looks back at sebastian. “she wouldn’t let that happen to her.”

max clears his throat. “what if you just listen to us before we make this very difficult for you?”

“like how?”

“just trust me,” max smiles sweetly with a nod. “i can find ways to make life difficult for you.”

“what if i only leak pictures of her?” ryan grins, gesturing to the girl now throwing her head back in despair. “you’ve got good pictures, by the way. can’t wait to have you all to myself, you pretty little thing.”

“yeah, i’m done hearing this fucker out,” oscar mutters.

“oscar-“

logan is barely able to grab the australian’s arm before oscar has already lept forward to shove the man back.

“so i’ll make it difficult for you,” oscar smiles politely. his arm darts forward again, bunching up the material of ryan’s collar into his hands. he yanks him in. “i’m going to take that thumb drive out of your pockets myself, and then i’ll beat you with my own bare hands,” he points behind him, “while she watches.

“and then i’m going to get the best lawyer, find the judge, bribe them both and the jury combined,” oscar chuckles dryly, “put you in jail. and then i’m going to go in there and tear you limb from limb again.”

“ah, you’re too nice. you’d never.”

“say bet?”

“bet.”

“oscar, come on!” she shrieks, stumbling forward to yank him back. “you don’t beat people up! come on!”

“yeah, but i do!” max cheers, his hand darting out to shove the man back harder than oscar did. he stumbles a couple steps back and almost loses his balance, regaining it slowly. “i’ll finish what oscar started. come here.”

“hey, nobody’s beating this man up!” sebastian shouts, before quickly trying to lower his voice to avoid any unwanted attention. “listen, mate. i can make sure a court hearing goes by softly. benefits us, but gonna make you go broke. you decide.”

max lifts a finger into the air. “and don’t forget: i’m born petty. i already know where you work, so if you wanna keep that job…”

“and keep having a damn job for the rest of your life,” sebastian finishes max’s sentence. he holds his hand out, waiting for the item to be surrendered to him. “you know what’s best for you. come on.”

“fine, but-“

“there will be no buts, there will be no negotiations,” max grunts, rolling his eyes. if it weren’t for sebastian, he would have already given these three the show of their life. “you will listen to seb. end of story.”

“fine, whatever,” the man sighs, throwing the thumbdrive at sebastian. he tilts his head once more and winks at the girl. “let’s go for our date — that’s the one condition.”

“seriously, why haven’t you let me beat the crap out of this guy?” oscar asks ludicrously, throwing his hands in the air. he turns back to him. “we just said no negotiations. go and fuck off somewhere else.”

“and you better leave (y/n) alone because i grew up with brothers,” logan smiles, “i can fight.”

she moves her head lower, looking at oscar with wide eyes. she takes her spoon out of her ice cream cup and sways it in oscar’s field of vision. “hey.”

“yeah?” oscar asks, lifting his eyes from the table to meet hers.

“you mad at me?” she pouts her bottom lip out before dropping her gaze. “i’m sorry.”

“sorry for doing what you thought would help you out of a situation?” oscar smiles emphatically at her. he stabs his spoon into his ice cream and puts a firm grip on her wrist. “next time just come to one of us, okay? we’ll handle it.”

she presses her lips together as she sighs. “right. i forget that i don’t have to fend for myself anymore.”

“yeah. we’ve got your back. always,” oscar snorts. “you’re one of my best friends. logan and i would flip the earth for you.”

“likewise,” she smiles. “i’d help you bury a dead body.”

“maybe let’s not go that far.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @inejismywife @vellicora @leilanixx @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @love4lando @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @cashtons-wife @bborra @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803

[standfucker]

Gremlin Reader Headcanons - Straw Hats, Whitebeard Pirates, Heart Pirates, Kid Pirates

CW: shenanigans, tomfoolery, and hullabaloo

Straw Hats

You and Luffy are BEST BUDS. You butted heads when you first met just from being a bit too similar, but now you understand each other like no one else.

“Quit eating stuff off the floor!” Nami snaps as you and Luffy reach for a cube of steak that fell from your plate. “Five second rule,” Luffy says. You both smack at each other’s hands, but he ends up maneuvering and grabbing the meat first thanks to his stretchiness. You respond by shoving his entire hand, still holding the steak bit, into your mouth. Luffy shouts, then laughs. Nami yells, “Y/N, ew! That’s even worse!” “You don’t know where that’s been,” Zoro adds. Luffy screams for real when you bite his hand, but he also lets go of the steak, so it’s a win. (It was yours in the first place.)

While your bathing habits are better than Zoros, it’s not by much. If you’re a girl, expect Nami to literally drag you to bathe with her and Robin. She’ll wash your hair for you if you promise to stop using soap bubbles to give yourself a beard and call yourself the “Saponicus the Bath Wizard.” At least Robin finds it funny.

Also, if you’re a girl…you put Sanji through it. Rather than getting a broom to shoo you from your perch on top of the fridge, he tries to coax you down with sweet words and sweeter foods. Instead of yelling at you for eating off the floor, he’ll wash off whatever fell for you. If you try to eat a piece of what he’s cooking, he’ll simply make you a small side plate to tide you over. To Sanji, your weird habits are endearing. But if you’re a guy? He’ll just kick your ass. 

If you occupy that odd space in between genders (or lack thereof,) however, the poor cook does not know how to deal with you. After much stumbling over the subject and at first treating you how you most closely present, he ends up finding a neutral middle ground that makes you both happy.

You play with Franky a lot. You like to climb him like a jungle gym–he’s just shaped so perfectly for it. Sometimes you’ll sneak up behind Franky, jump and reach around to boop his nose to surprise him and change his hair. Every now and then he anticipates your strikes and catches you by the arm, holding you off the ground as penance for your crimes. You swing and wrap your legs around his rectangular arm to retaliate, and he’ll wave his arm to try to jostle you. It’s all fun and games until you get flung off the ship.

Once you discovered how light Brook was, you realized you could pick him up. This led to you plucking him off the ground at random and using him as a jousting lance with which to harass Zoro. Brook started to wisen up to that gleam in your eye, using his cane to keep you at a distance or jab you lightly.

Whitebeard Pirates

There are a lot of crewmates, and you manage, somehow, to be the most feral of them all. Marco calls you “the ship’s pet, Y/N” as a joke.

Unless it’s snowing, you go barefoot everywhere. The soles of your feet have thickened considerably, and you occasionally entertain your brothers by showing off how you can stick safety pins through the very bottom layers of skin. This leads to Marco yelling at you to stop playing with sharps, and that you’re going to accidentally hurt yourself.

Poor Marco has to look out for you often, especially because you do things like get into wrestling matches with the biggest crewmates. You don’t have the size to do much, but if you get pinned, you cheat by biting your opponent. This usually worked for you until you cracked a tooth on Jozu, earning a stern “I told you so” from the first division commander.

Ace is a reformed gremlin and so takes you under his wing. You remind him of Luffy, so he’s quite fond of you compared to the rest. The two of you bring out the worst in each other’s bad habits, indulging the other. If you two are ever spotted together and giggling, the others know to be concerned, as you’re certainly up to something, usually pranks.

The only person who can get you to behave is Whitebeard, and he doesn’t bother most of the time, feeling it better for his children to “sort themselves out”. But he’s not wrong–the crew takes care of you no matter what mischief you get up to.

“I bet you can’t steal Vista’s hat,” Thatch challenges you and Ace one day. You’re always well-mannered toward Thatch, because he’s in charge of the food, but that doesn’t mean you guys won’t challenge each other to dares. “I bet I can steal it before Ace does,” you immediately respond. Ace protests fiercely, and the game is on. Ace takes a straight-forward approach, sprinting down the deck like he’s going to run past Vista, leaping into the air, and going to swipe it off. Vista blocks his hand with a raised arm. “What are you doing?” Vista questions. “Nothing,” Ace says, jumping again and promptly getting grabbed by the arm and tossed aside. This repeats, with Ace making big, energetic attempts to steal that hat and getting thrown around instead, over and over with no success. You wait until Ace has calmed down, then approach Vista. “Can I tell you something?” you ask, motioning him to lean in closer. Vista’s smart enough to know why you want him to bend down, but his reflexes are quick, so he leans over anyway. “Yes?” You stick your fingers up his nose. Vista makes a muffled, indignant shriek, flinching. Completely caught off guard, he’s too slow to stop you from snatching the hat off his head. “Run!” Ace screams, and you book it with Ace joining at your side. You wave the hat and yell, “Burn it, Ace!” mostly joking. “I’ll gut you both!” Vista shouts, hot on your heels, drawing his swords as he chases you two down, the sounds of your crazed laughter echoing through the deck. Marco sighs and gets ready to heal you again.

Heart Pirates

You would tire out Law, but you’ve been a part of the crew for so long that he’s used to your antics. Really, you tire out Bepo, who’s in charge of keeping you in line.

The Polar Tang has a ventilation system to keep airflow and environmental controls during dives. You like to crawl into the vent shafts for fun and because they’re a cozy, private space away from everyone else. Whenever no one can find you, Law locates you on the ship and uses his power to teleport you out. You’ll be napping peacefully, shirking your duties, and suddenly you’re falling through the air and onto the floor in front of your captain–whoops, busted.

Once you tried to steal Law’s hat as a joke. He removed your hands for the rest of the day, stating you’d lost hand privileges.

“Aw, but Captain, your hair looks so nice,” you whined, and Law’s cheeks turned pink. “You’ll get your hands back tomorrow,” he ignored your statement and tossed your hands into a sack, tying it shut.

After that you had to mop the Polar Tang by biting the mop handle, which your crewmates said you took to way too easily.

You’ll sometimes leap onto Bepo’s back, gently tugging on his ears–they’re so round and cute. Resigned, he just supports your legs and lets you. When you can’t resist and end up biting his ear, he yelps, then states that you remind him of the folks from his home island of Zou, and finds it almost soothing.

You, Penguin and Shachi have an ongoing prank war. It’s one you all keep contained so that it doesn’t reach Law, but is otherwise ruthless. Shachi’s been pantsed by you so many times you’re pretty sure you’ve seen every pattern of underwear he owns, but it’s his fault for letting his guard down so frequently. None of you are safe falling asleep first around the others lest you get your face scribbled on, hence your habit of napping in the air vents.

The Polar Tang doesn’t get visitors, but very rarely will gain a new crewmate. As one of the first handful of people recruited, you liked to make noises in the air vents and had certain newbies convinced the ship was haunted. It didn’t help that you told creepy stories of ghosts of people who died deep underwater, where the ship was currently sailing through… Ikkaku always chided you to stop freaking people out.

Though most would expect Law to get annoyed by you, he actually takes comfort in your antics. You’re consistent, at least, in a chaotic world. He can always count on you to keep spirits up and to keep the rest of the crew on their toes.

You’re settled in an air vent with a flashlight and a book one day. You hear a muffled “Room,” from somewhere, then Law appears next to you, having to hunch over so he can fit. “Oh, hey, Captain,” you say. “You know,” Law says, “I think you’ve actually got the right idea. Some days the Polar Tang, despite everything, feels too big... Some days even my quarters feel too big.” “Is today one of those days?” you ask as Law inspects the vent walls. They’re clean–likely your doing–which surprises him. He nods. “You should try taking a nap. It’s very cave-like and cozy here.” “Do you just lay out on the metal?” he questions. “Yep. But if that’s uncomfortable for you, well…” you pat your lap, completely nonchalant. Law studies your face. You give him a cheery smile. He sighs, and stretches out. It’s more comfortable this way. He rests his head on your lap. You continue reading quietly, angling your book and the light away from Law’s face. He adjusts slightly and deflates, relaxing. Right before falling asleep, he takes off his hat.

Kid Pirates

You fit right in with the Kid pirates. No one gives you so much as a second glance for most of the things that you do. For the most part, your level of gremlin behavior is not that much more intense than some of the other crewmates. 

Though Kid/Killer/Wire will pick you up by your jacket hood when you act up too much. You retaliate by pinching the offender’s nostrils shut. This leads to you getting scolded, but you start laughing because they talk with a “congested” voice. Eventually you get threatened with being thrown overboard, which finally makes you fall in line.

You’re good with electrical work. Aside from using a stun gun in battle, you like to take the little metal creatures that Kid makes and soup them up with lights and sounds. Usually you just add glowing eyes and fins as an accent, but sometimes you use your powers for evil: once you added a timed speaker to a doll that went off in the middle of the night, scaring the bejesus out of the sleeping crew.

Killer is strict about not eating food before it’s ready, but it doesn’t stop you from trying to snack on ingredients. You’ll sneak into the kitchen (poorly–you are not quiet) and try to swipe food when you think he’s not looking. Killer will see your hand reach up in his peripheral vision and feel around the countertop. He plunges a knife into the countertop inches from your fingers, making you freeze before slowly withdrawing. However, you know he would never actually stab you, so you never really give up.

You’re really good at making Kid laugh with your antics. He doesn’t even realize it until much later on in the time he’s known you. You and Kid are watching Killer cook one day, steaks sizzling beautifully on the pan, and more raw meat is piled on a plate on the table before you, waiting for its turn. “Why does raw meat look so appealing?” you say. “I kind of don’t want to wait for it to cook.” “I’m not feeding you raw meat,” Killer says. You open your mouth to make the obvious lewd joke, but Kid shoots you a look that says don’t. You close your mouth. “I know what you mean,” Kid says. You both look at the raw steak. The filets are ruby-red, glistening, with cream streaks of fat that promise to melt once on the pan. “I just want to bite into the whole thing and shake my head like a dog,” you voice your thoughts. “Then do it,” Kid says offhandedly. You pluck a raw steak from the pile, sink your teeth in, and do exactly that, growling as the steak whips from side to side. Kid bursts out laughing, caught by surprise, while Killer snaps out your name, far less amused. As Killer scolds you, Kid thinks about how impulsive you are and how often you make him laugh like that and how much he likes you. And then it hits him–wait, oh god, oh no. You’ve taken the steak out of your mouth and are laughing at yourself, and you look so nice when you’re smiling oh NO. Kid’s gone red in the face while you try to appease Killer. “My mouth germs will burn off when you cook it,” you argue. “That doesn’t matter. You’re going to get sick,” Killer grumbles. “Don’t do it again.” “Okay, fine…Hm? Kid?” you tilt your head at him. “You okay? You look a bit flushed.” “Shut up! I’m fine.” Kid says defensively. “Okaaay, moody. Sheesh, sorry for caring.” And that just makes it worse, because Kid’s now also realizing you do actually care, don’t you? Bringing him things when he’s holed up late at night in his workshop, bothering him when his mood’s down and he needs to be distracted, helping him oil the parts of his metal arm and laughing it off when you get covered in grease. “Don’t get all sweet on me, you little punk.” Kid mutters. “You’re right. I ought to stick to salty things. Like Killer’s mea–” “STOP.”

[gohyemi]

my last chance

(actually got inspired by true story on how my parent first met)

(The time takes place in 1990)

“WAIT, WAIT!” she shouts from afar, her voice cutting through the air and startling the bus driver just as he’s about to close the door. She rushes forward, slightly out of breath, bowing in apology before stepping inside. Her destination: a university, where she needs to deliver some documents and collect a few signatures from the staff.

As she scans the rows of seats, her gaze is drawn to a particular gentleman. He’s laughing with his friends, his smile effortlessly lighting up the space around him. She can’t hear what they’re saying, but something about him makes her heart pause for just a second. If only she could see that smile again.

The only available seat happens to be right in front of him—next to one of his friends. She isn’t usually into guys who wear glasses and hoodies; she prefers the one sitting behind him—fit, slightly buff, with a stylish haircut. But reality doesn’t always align with preference.With no other choice, she sits down, pulling out her headphones. Just as she’s about to put them on, a voice interrupts her.

“You’re heading to ___ University?” the guy beside her asks.

“Yes,” she replies with a small nod. “It’s actually my first time going there.”

She should stop there. That would be the sensible thing to do. But for some reason, her mouth refuses to stay shut.

“Oh, really? I can show you around if you need.”

She hesitates. She should decline. She doesn’t even know this guy. But the thought of navigating such a huge campus alone feels exhausting. After a brief internal battle, she sighs. “That would actually help a lot. Thank you.”

——————

“You scared me!”

She clutches her chest, startled to see him standing in front of the office door, smiling sheepishly.

It seems like he had been waiting for her.

“Didn’t you say you had class?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I… forgot something.” He scratches the back of his neck, his hesitation evident. After a moment, he pulls out a small notebook and pen, offering them to her. “May I have your number? I’d love to be friends with you.”

She stares at the notebook for a moment, unsure. “I have a boyfriend… well, technically not a boyfriend, but close to that.”

Mentally, she facepalms. Why did she say that?

Instead of looking disappointed, he only smiles—charmingly, at that. As he pushes his glasses back up his nose, she catches herself thinking how cute he looks.

“Well,” he says lightly, “I did say I wanted to be friends.” He mumbles something under his breath.

“Even the biggest ship can be conquered… so why not the human heart right?”

She tilts her head. “What was that?”

He clears his throat. “We can just be friends. That’s fine with me.”

She studies him. His demeanour is calm, his expression sincere. He doesn’t seem like someone with bad intentions. After a beat, she nods. “Alright, but no calls after 10 p.m. My dad will kill me if someone’s on the phone that late.”

“Your wish, miss…”

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo.”

Rewind to the Bus

“Wonwoo-ah, come on! Join us for a friendly match,” Sooyoung persuades, nudging him.

Lately, Wonwoo has been drowning in his thoughts, his mood spiraling downward ever since his breakup with his unfaithful girlfriend. His friends, noticing his dullness, drag him everywhere in an attempt to lift his spirits. But for Wonwoo, space is what he needs—to clear his mind, to breathe.

“It’s oka—”

“WAIT, WAIT!”

His words are cut off by a sudden shout from outside the bus.

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, something shifts inside him. Like a beam of sunlight piercing through weeks of stormy clouds.

She bursts onto the bus, radiant in the afternoon glow. A simple sundress brushes her knees, contrasting starkly with her worn-out sports shoes—an odd mix, but somehow, it suits her. Different. Intriguing.

“Wow…” he whispers.

His friends catch on immediately.

“Wonwoo, huh?” Mingyu smirks, nudging him from the seat behind. “Looks like hope isn’t lost after all. Careful there buddy your eyes seem like about to pop off”

Wonwoo’s cheeks heat up. Annoyed, he pulls up his hoodie, pretending to ignore them, but his gaze flickers back to her as she searches for a seat.

The moment she steps closer, his heart pounds. Without thinking, he pulls his bag onto his lap, making sure the only available seat left is right in front of him.

He sets his mind on one thing.

‘This is it. One last try. If this doesn’t work… I’ll just live my life working and playing football forever.’

And with that silent prayer, he waits, waits for her to take the seat and his plan to steal this woman heart.

[trumpkinhotboy]

I'll keep an eye on you - II

pairing: jacob black x reader

type: not requested

genre: bit angsty and fluffy

warnings: none

word count: 3400

requests: open! for twilight wolfpack, narnia, heartstopper

a/n: hope you enjoy this lil part 2 !! also I really want to thank @tgarrett26 for helping me with this fic (you are awesome) + they are the reason there is even a pt.2 hehe

part I part III

*gif is not mine

summary: After one night of respite, the reader confronts the day to realize the shadows haven't quite disappeared yet.

There's a timid sunbeam lighting up your cozy little room. Nothing scary or menacing in view. You look over to your nightstand with barely opened eyes to see your mushroom light still on. The clock on your desk shines the time. 7:00am. 

7am?!

You sit straight up, immediately noticing the big dent on the left side of your bed. Yes, of course, Jacob came in last night. Your cheeks flush with the thought of having slept so soundly next to the heaping mountain of muscles that is your friend. You feel so confused and well-rested. For the first time in a few weeks, you awoke calmly. This might have been the best night of sleep of your whole damn life, and it's 7:00am! You managed to wake up before your alarm. You wouldn't have to be rushing to school for once. You were usually only able to fall asleep when the sun started shining and chased away the threatening shadows of the night. So, being late to school was a recurring occurrence for you. For once, your father wouldn't have to come in to try and wake you up. You were pushing away your blankets to get up when there was a knock on your door before it slowly cracked open.

"Sweetheart, time to wake up. Don't want to be late for sch-"

Your father's traits lifted up in surprise, and honestly, you couldn’t really blame the man. You didn't keep track of all the mornings he found you all tangled up in your blankets, hair sprawled everywhere like a bird's nest, saliva drooling down your chin.

"Did you sleep well?"

You nodded eagerly, a sincere smile spreading on your lips. Charlie seemed incredibly thrilled by that piece of news. He was no stranger to the nightmares haunting your nights and was brokenhearted to see you so tired and on edge all the time.

"Well, then. Better get down and eat breakfast before you head to school." He gave you a timid smile before softly closing your door.

You had your first breakfast with your dad in a long time. He was particularly chirpy, and you kept catching his relieved gaze. You left for school on time and had a really great day. You felt awake and energized. Participating in class and your little social circle once again felt like a rush. Your efforts were welcomed with gigantic smiles from your teachers and friends. For a second, you thought the weeks of anguish and terror might finally be behind you. Maybe a night with Jacob had been the only thing you needed to put this whole thing behind you. However, as the sun went down and shadows stretched on the ground, you got more flinchy and twitchy. Once more, you turned at every odd sound, looking over your shoulder as you left the school grounds. You almost ran to your car, locking all the doors, and left a trail of dust with how fast you headed back home on the powdery roads of Forks. 

Dinner with your father was much more somber than the breakfast you shared this morning. You felt like a dagger to your heart, his disappointment when he saw you jump as he caught you by surprise in the kitchen. You usually were always careful about hiding your internal conflict from Charlie. Yet the frustration you felt tonight weighed much more than the want to hide everything from him.

Once dinner was over, you climbed the stairs with heavy steps, feeling the dread in your body get worse the closer you got to your bedroom. You opened the door to find a space very different than the one you had left when you awoke this morning. Your still unmade bed didn't feel so inviting tonight. Long gone were the rays of sunshine that scared the shadows away. The room you faced was now dark and gloomy. Nothing about it felt safe or secure.

You rushed in to turn on your mushroom light and sat on your bed, trying to summon all your courage to breathe calmly. 

It's over now. Nightmares are just that. They aren't real. I'm safe now.

No matter how much you would repeat it, those words felt empty and fake. You got up, put your pajamas on, and as you were ready to get in bed, you noticed a piece of clothing jutting out from under one of the pillows. You lifted it up to find the T-shirt you lent to Jacob. He didn't keep it. He left your house shirtless so you could keep the stupid piece of clothing. You grabbed it and held it up to your nose. Immediately, your senses were overpowered by his woodsy scent. You fell to your bed, shirt still pressed on your face as you let a deep sigh leave your lungs.

Grabbing your phone on the night table, you hesitated. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard before you closed the device and threw it away.

The clock had just struck midnight when you heard something scratching outside. You almost had a heart attack when you saw Jacob hanging onto your window, motioning for you to open it.

"Jacob Black. What the hell are you doing? Do you want to kill me?!"

Your tall friend let out a deep chuckle as he swiftly stepped into your room without making a noise. His gaze fell onto the fort you had built yourself. There were pillows and blankets lined all around your bed, a very feeble attempt at a barrier. The tv screen was paused on one of your favorite movie. He gave you a worried look and took a second to really take in the state you were in. You didn't look like the relaxed girl he had, reluctantly, left in a peaceful slumber this morning.

"What?" you defensively crossed your arms on your chest, already sensing where this conversation would be going.

"What are you doing?" he quietly asked, his head slightly leaning on one side.  

"I was watching a movie." 

You immediately saw a shadow pass in his dark eyes and felt a familiar pain ring in your chest. You couldn't live with disappointing both your father and Jacob. Worse, you couldn't live with the pity in their eyes. If only the bad dreams could stay away. 

"What are you doing," you finally asked, a bit more roughly than you had intended.

He hesitated, sensing you had been offended in some way. "I just did a quick run around the perimeter, but then I saw the light open and just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Your expression softened at the concern painted on his handsome face. Fear did make you more on edge, but you knew Jacob had done nothing to deserve that anger. You sighed before plopping down on your bed.

"That's very nice of you, but I am okay. I just didn't feel tired yet." 

You felt adamant about telling him of the return of the paranoia. You were already so disappointed in yourself. You couldn't even muster the bravery to be in your room alone at night. What would it even do if you told him the truth? It felt so shameful to ask again for his help, to ask him to watch over you while you were sleeping. Just because, like a child, you were afraid of the dark and the beasts it hid. You were instantly relieved when he gave you a suspicious glance as if he might believe your lie. You gave him your best smile, trying to prove how relaxed you were. You only wanted to chase the worries away from his chocolate eyes. 

That could have worked if only the sound of your house creaking under a strong gust of wind and a branch scratching on your window hadn't made you flinch so damn hard. 

Jacob's gaze hardened over your tense figure. You expected him to make a comment, to confront you. As you waited anxiously for the ax to drop, he finally walked over to your bed, sat, and pointed to your television.

"May I join you then?"

You initiated him to one of your best comfort movies. It required absolutely no brain power and just helped you feel better. Always a good player, Jake obliged and even seemed to enjoy it. When you were done, you spent another hour just chatting about nothing and everything. You tried hiding your clock from his sight and hoped he wouldn't notice time flying away, but sadly, there wasn't much your figure could hide from his wolfish sight.

"It's getting late. I should probably go," He muttered after an hour of mindless chatting. His dark eyes fixed on your features, you faced each other, forearms tucked under your head while you lay on your side. You couldn't help your shoulders and jaw from tensing up at his words. The happiness and carelessness he had brought you vanished as if it never occurred. Fear crept up in your belly at the thought of being alone in the dark again. 

You gave him a tight smile as you nodded. He hesitantly got up, giving you another weird look. You barely registered it, too focused on avoiding falling into a panicked state. He walked to the window, and as you thought he was about to leave, he turned around on a whim.

"I really don't understand you. Even in this state, you won't ask for my help?" 

His outburst surprised you and unintentionally made you recoil at the swift motion. He sighed deeply, "Please don't look at me like this. I want to understand. Why don't you want my help?" he repeated, annoyance rippling in waves from his body.

"I- I'm not sure what you're talking about," you responded, determined to hang on to the shred of dignity you had left.

He let out a sarcastic laugh. It was dry and reeked of disdain towards this fluke you were trying to fool him with. "Stop playing Y/n. You reek of fear." 

His words were like a punch in the gut. You felt shame hitting you as you realized how stupid you had been. 

"See? Your reaction only confirms what I already knew. What I don't understand is why you insist on facing this alone. You can always call me, and I will always come through for you. Have I not proven that?" 

"You did, but it's not your responsibility to fix me. To fix this."

"Not my responsibility?" he scoffed. He turned around while dragging his hand through his hair. He was a mix of so many emotions you couldn't pinpoint what was brewing in his brain. He stayed silent for so long that you thought he would leave you like this. You were about to add something when he raised his voice. "I would give everything to go back to that night. To be there by your side. Maybe you wouldn't have to go through that, or at least I would have been the one to rip to shreds that bloodsucker." Flames of rage danced in his eyes while you stood speechless, gawking at him. 

You were at a loss for words. You had seen Jake in many different states in your friendship, but he never looked so conflicted. Anger and sadness seemed to be battling out the right to overpower him. For a rare moment, he looked incredibly vulnerable. He was back to being that innocent teenager you had always known. You approached, unsure whether that would make him lash out, but he stayed put, his eyes fixed on the ground. You knew Jacob felt responsible for what happened to you. What you didn't know is that he tortured himself with it. Your heart ached at the thought, and any frustration you had felt up to this point melted.

Softly, you grabbed his hand. "Jacob, look at me."

When he finally turned around and lifted his gaze, tears hung on to the line of his long lashes. The sight of it made your throat close up. 

"Why won't you let me care for you," he whispered, inches from you. 

His gaze was so deep and carried a tsunami of emotions. Without even thinking about it, you grabbed his face. Both of your hands cradled his soft and warm skin. You saw goosebumps creep up his muscled arms, mirroring the one on yours. Bringing his forehead to your own, you took a deep breath.

"I don't want to be a burden."

Saying the words that'd been ringing in your head for so long felt almost exhilarating while also being incredibly relieving. Contrary to the belief of your messed up head, the world didn't end or break in two once the thought left your lips. 

"I've always thought you were such an incredible person and couldn't help but always want to be better for you. Ever since you phased, that feeling only got more intense. You've evolved so much in the past few months, and I'm still old me. When I got attacked, it was the most horrible experience of my life, but it also reinforced that concept. I couldn't even walk from yours to Emily's cabin without being attacked. The boys had to risk their lives to save me. I didn't even get one scratch, and still, I'm afraid of the dark. I'm afraid to sleep alone. I'm afraid if I let my guard down for one second... it'll happen again. Which means that I'll either die or be a burden for you guys once more because I can't even defend myself against something like that. You're already so good to me. I don't want to add this to your list of things to worry about." 

Your eyes stayed closed even after you finished and controlled your breathing again. Saying it aloud was incredible, but to open your eyes to face his reaction felt nerve-racking. You were about to when a strong pair of arms wrapped around you. 

"You are not and will never be a burden to me." His tone was soft and felt a little strangled. In your dimly lit little room, while the rest of the world was in a peaceful slumber, Jacob's words felt like the only thing that mattered.

He pulled back after a moment but still held you close. "I don't know what gave you the impression that you were a burden. If it ever was something I did, I want to apologize."

"I remember so vividly the look on your face when the boys brought me back to the cabin. You had the same disappointed expression as you have just now. I promise I'm trying to heal as fast I can, but this... this is harder than I thought it would be."

Confusion was now the only emotion on his face, clear as day. "Disappointed? Y/n, I never was disappointed. It was the worst, terrifying, shit your pants kind of fear I've ever felt. It's agony to know you're so ridden with fear. I was disappointed to learn that tonight was still hard for you, not because I think you're not healing fast enough, but because I hoped I finally helped you feel better. I feel so bad you have to live with these memories for your whole life. I just wish I could make them disappear." 

That's when you understood the slim difference between disappointment and defeat. One was channeled towards you, and the other wasn't. For Jacob, it had always been directed at himself.

"Jacob, you're the only one who makes me breathe a little easier. You're the only reason I slept soundly last night." A new light illuminated his eyes. You steadied yourself before you continued, your tone slightly hushed. "You've always had that specific calming effect on me. You're the only person who makes things better for me. Ever since we were kids. I have always felt safe with you. You're like my personal haven." 

It felt like a big thing to say, but you wanted that sadness to leave his face. You wanted his eyes to be filled with light again, and somehow, it felt right to tell him about all this. He spent so much time worrying about everything and everyone. He deserved to know how appreciated he was. He deserved to know what he meant to you.

Emotion thickened the air. So much so that it felt like you couldn't breathe just right. Your hands slid from his cheeks delicately. You placed one at the nape of his neck while the other grabbed the top of his hair. "Jake, I don't think you even understand how much you mean to me."

Time stood still for a moment. Your eyes focused on each other, and the rest of the world ceased to exist.

 "Y/n, I-" his eyes held something heavier. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something before deciding better of it. It almost looked like it cost him to try and get the words out. He gave up in a huff, and whatever was in his gaze, whatever he thought about, vanished. Some part of you wanted to push him, to ask, but tonight had been a rollercoaster enough. You could let it go for now. He pulled you in for another hug before releasing you a little.

"So, now that we've established that you are not a burden." he started softly.

"And that this is in no way your fault," you added with a grin. 

He rolled his eyes, "Uhm. Can you tell me what you actually need? I can stay here with you if you want."

You felt a pang of your old fears scratch at your heart, but you let them all go in one breath. "I would very much like that."

You tucked yourselves in bed for the second night in a row. You hesitated to turn off the light, but always so observant, Jacob assured you it didn't bother him to keep it open. You lay side by side in silence. You were focused on becoming familiar with the ordinary and hazardous sounds an old house made at night when Jacob started to whisper.

"I know you think you aren't as fearless as us, but I can assure you everyone in our tribe thinks you are the bravest person they've ever met. Not many people would feel comfortable hanging out with a bunch of new werewolves." 

"Brave or totally crazy," you added while making a wicked-looking face. His eyes disappeared in his bright smile, and you wished you could snap a picture of it. 

"No, but really, you're the only one who stayed by my side all throughout my phasing process. No matter how dangerous it was for you. If that's not the definition of bravery, I don't know what is." He turned pensive again while his gaze darkened.

You unwillingly recalled the phasing process of Jacob. All the terrible memories flashed before your eyes. His screams of pain still rang in your ears. You remember distinctly every time you wished to take his place. If you could have taken away some of his pain, you would have in an instant. The least you could do was stay by his side no matter what. You had to fight with Billy and the rest of the pack, but in the end, even they couldn't keep you away. No one could have.

You slid into his arms, and his body tensed under the new touch before quickly relaxing to envelop you in a tight embrace. 

"I would never leave you alone," you mumbled in his chest. "I know you like to have this strong and impressive appearance, but inside, you're still the same little Jacob I've always known. I know you need me."

You lightly pressed your lips onto his chest and nuzzled farther into him. Fireworks were exploding in the boy's chest as he returned the gesture with a kiss on your head.

"And Jake?"

"Uhm?"

"Don't think I didn't notice you wanted to tell me something important earlier. For tonight, it's okay, but we'll have to talk about that."

[daenysx]

ok so!!!! i saw this prompt “is there some space left in that bathtub?” and i was thinking fluff with best boy james potter...

reader comes home tired from work or just the day and takes a bath by themselves. jamie then comes home and decides to join reader

thank you for requesting, i hope you enjoy this little drabble! requests are open. ♡

james potter x fem!reader

the water is too warm for your usual liking.

it still brings an odd sort of comfort though, your muscles start relaxing. you try to settle down deeper in the tub, until the water covers everywhere except your head. you move your hands a little to have more vanilla scented bubbles, a slow breath leaves your lips as you turn your neck and stretch.

you close your eyes, begging your mind to let go of every thought that keeps you awake. the work has been incredibly exhausting today, you remember how you counted down the hours just to come home. you texted james when you came home, letting him know you'll take a bath. he should be here soon, you think.

you lean your head to the side of the tub. sleep comes slowly, your eyes get heavier each second. you take a breath. slow tears start dropping on your cheeks out of relief after exhausted hours. you don't mind crying a little, you know you'll be fine eventually.

james steps into the small apartment, the air is filled with vanilla. he gets rid of his shoes and his bag, takes off his jacket before he moves for the bathroom. he has his usual smile on his face, the day wasn't easy but he keeps his smile for you and for himself.

you look like an angel covered in bubbles. james feels his mouth go dry, he leans to the wall and waits until you open your eyes.

"hey." he says, with a gentle voice.

you blink your eyes open slowly. a soft smile settles on your lips. "hi, jamie."

james takes a few steps, he kneels next to the tub to reach your face. he gives you a kiss on your forehead. "hey, baby." another kiss on the side of your head, because he can't stop himself. "are you okay?"

you nod. "just tired, and water makes me sleepy."

"yeah?" he asks, his finger wipes the drops on your cheek. "do you think there is some more space in the tub for me?"

"you wanna get in?" you ask, a wave of happiness washes over.

james nods. you reach him with a wet hand to kiss his cheek. it doesn't take long for him to join you, you watch him taking his clothes and his glasses off with a stupid smile on your face.

he takes you to his lap, his arms are wrapped around your waist under the water. he kisses your hairline, one hand comes out to stroke your hair back. you relax into his body, tilt your head back to his shoulder and his lips touch your head.

"can you turn around for me?" he asks with a sweet voice.

you are too comfortable to move. "why?" you whine a little.

"i'll rub your back and your shoulders." james says. "or you can just sit up a little if that's better."

you turn your face with a great effort just to kiss him on his lovely face. he's charming as always, so kind and thoughtful. his day was probably as tiring as yours but he puts you first. you try to move in tub, sitting a little straight to give him access to your backside.

james kisses the back of your neck fondly. his hands wander on your back, the soapy bubbles help him slide his fingers. he presses his fingers softly on the spots where your shoulders meet your neck, he rubs the back of your neck until you relax entirely.

he keeps applying pressure on your shoulder blades. occasional kisses and slow movements makes you melt in his arms, at some point you have to lean back against him. he understands, his arms go back to their permanent places on your waist.

"thank you, jamie." you murmur, almost dozing off.

"anytime, angel." he whispers. "maybe we should go to bed."

you shake your head, the water is still warm enough to stay. "a little more please."

james smiles, rubs the tip of his nose on your skin. "until the water gets cold then."

[frownyalfred]

Not including Thomas and/or Martha Wayne, do you think there's any other ghosts that haunt the Wayne grounds or Wayne Mansion itself?

Even if no one died on the grounds themselves before, with the Batfam's lifestyle they must have made the place a magnet for the odd and otherworldly that some spirit could have made it it's home.

Actually this ask reminded me of a half-formed fic idea I had a while back! I think it was going to be for ASOH but could really be its own oneshot.

It centered around BVS Batman coming back from training with Ra's and the League, and not being satisfied with how their methods/training applied to hunting down people in Gotham. It was too silent, too quick, not effective for the kind of targets he needed to intimidate as a fledgling Batman. They needed to, as TDK Bruce put it, share his dread.

But one night, when he's wandering through the abandoned Manor grounds, trying to clear his head, he stumbles across one of the old ghosts on the property. The old Wayne hunters, like Bruce references in BVS -- the ones who started their empire. Fur hunters, game hunters, etc.

And one of his ancestors -- a ghost -- leads him through a night of hunting, teaching him the skills it takes to be the kind of Batman Gotham needs. A hunter whose quarry knows he is coming, but still cannot see him. A hunter who is upwind and downwind and everywhere all at once. Someone who dogs their steps and never relents, regardless of the terrain crossed or the hours spent. A hunter Ra's could never teach him to be.

IDK, it was kind of in the same vein as the magical realism of misty so I figured I'd space those out a bit for my poor readers. But yeah, I thought it would be really cool to do a one night, one lesson kind of mystical thing with Bruce and his Great great grandfather or something. One of those "Did I just dream that?" kind of nights. The grounds we see in BVS are just so cool and deserve more expansion in description and lore. You know?

[mythicmanuscripts]

hi! omg i absolutely adore all your stuff, it's so good, and the subby!boys with wife! reader is such a perfect dynamic.

would absolutely love to see more sub!jace being clingy and teary, and not wanting you to leave him at all -- maybe he's not feeling well or is sad about something going on and all he wants is to stay in your arms.

and maybe someone walks in on you and he gets so upset because your arms are his safe space and you need to soothe and comfort him?

honestly everything you write is amazing, sub!jace is literally my new obsession <3

Oh my god I love this!!! We’re all so obsessed with clingy sensitive Jace I love it.

While my answer definitely isn’t very graphic, it is definitely sub!jace with implied sexual content so I’m gonna hide it under the cut for those who don’t want to read that :))

So I think this works best when discussing how Jace would be once he’s more comfortable? For the first two or three months he’s mostly very put together and trying to impress you and be a good husband, he wants to prove himself.

You’d only ever seen him unsettled and needy during sex and immediately after. It was always such an odd change because he’d instantly go from being polite and withdrawn and sometimes even dominant to try and show he can provide for you but then you kiss him and get a hand in his hair and instantly his knees are buckling and he’s whining into your mouth. So for a while it’s mostly Jace being put together and then when he couldn’t manage that anymore there would be brief bursts of him being very very needy.

But as he starts to get more comfortable and starts to accept that you really do love him and would never leave him for showing you his emotions, then he starts to become a lot more like that clingy version of himself all the time?

Eventually he won’t try to hide when he’s upset or stop himself from begging you to stay longer or telling you he wants to leave a public event and be alone with you. You always listen and help him and he just feels so so good because you’re his wife and his biggest support.

(By the way, this is definitely something noticed by both the rest of the castle and Rhaenyra. They all can see how as your relationship progressed Jace becomes more clingy and stays by your side, going everywhere with you and pulling you into hugs in public. At first Jace is worried how his mother will react but actually she’s just so so happy for him? She knows exactly what it’s like to be married to someone you can’t love and so she gets teary eyed every time she sees how in love and Jace are because she knows if there’s one thing she’s certainly done right, it’s making sure her son marries the love of his life and no one else.)

Anyway, I think Jace would be the most clingy and needy after he’s been without you for a while? From your wedding night onwards (and let’s be a honest a few nights before that too), he’s always slept in the same bed as you. Even when he was still trying to uphold this tough facade, he would still insist on sleeping in the same bed as you and he wouldn’t be able to sleep into you came to bed.

But unfortunately there’s a war ongoing, and that means both of you are regularly sent on missions for days and sometimes weeks at a time. Jace isn’t too bad when he’s the one being sent somewhere. Of course he really really misses you, but he knows you’re safe at the castle and will be there when he returns.

The issue is when you’re the one sent out. He understands why he can’t come with and he’d never try to tell you that you can’t do it, but damn it he hates every single second without you. He spends the entire time you’re away worrying about you. He has horrible dreams of all the different ways you could be hurt or killed, he spends hours at a time sitting on the beach just staring into the distance in hopes he may spot you. Rhaenyra always tries her best to comfort him but it’s no real help and she knows she can’t do any more.

As a result of this, when you do return I think his nerves would always be completely shot? He’s spent the entire time you were away in a perpetual state of tension and anxiety and fear and so now that you’re back it’s almost like he crashes? He knows you’re safe and his body just can’t keep him running in this state anymore.

Everyone else knows not to get in front of Jace when you return. The moment you’re within reach he’s running down to you and pulling you into the tightest hug possible. He buries his head in your neck and you can feel his shoulders shake as he cries. You tell him you’re here now, you’re back, you’re safe. Eventually he’ll collapse into you and then you have to gently push him away and wrap an arm around his waist to help him back to your shared quarters.

The first time you went on a mission after marrying Jace, some members of the council made the mistake of rushing over the moment your hug with Jace ended and started asking for updates. Jace very nearly had them killed and the only reason they’re still alive is because his mother thankfully realised what was happening and told everyone that they’d only get a debrief on your mission the next morning because she can see Jace is at the end of his rope.

He’s so shamelessly clingy for the entire evening. He never lets you out of his sight and cries if you even think about moving. He needs be with you for the entire time so that he can slowly begin to accept that you’re alright and you’re back with him.

You spend more whole time in bed with him in various states of undress. It always starts with Jace begging to undress you and be allowed to take a bath with you. At this point his motives aren’t even sexual. He wants to make sure you don’t have any injuries anywhere and because it’s been so long since he last submitted, he really wants to please you and do acts of service for you.

Of course you agree to both and he’s so so gentle.

The problem comes from whenever sometimes comes into the room. A few other councils members will always inevitably try to come in and ask you about how the trip is, but there’s also the servants and Jace gets unsettled no matter who is in the room during those times.

It takes at least an hour of cuddling before Jace will be ready to hear about what happened during your mission because first he just has to accept that you’re actually there and safe.

And good luck to anyone who opens that door because Jace will immediately cling to you and never let go. He’s been without you for far too long and you can’t just speak to someone else now. He’s your husband and for once he will use that to his advantage and demand uninterrupted times with you.

[revelboo]

It Had to Be You Pt 2

Megatron x Reader-spark

• Awareness washes through Megatron as his servos wrap around the tiny organic. Everywhere bare skin touches his metal flesh, its biofield soaks into him. Startling and strangely, soothing that ache he’s done his best to ignore for so long. Denta gritting, he wants to crush you in his hand, squeeze until he can’t feel this eerie sense of connection and aching familiarity anymore. Because whatever this is? It’s a threat.

• And it chains him even as he rages against it. Because this creature won’t, can’t, die by his hand. However he much he hates this newfound need, he can’t let it go now. Expression darkening, his face lifts to the fight raging on. Snarling under his breath, he tucks the alien inside his chassis, protoarmor crawling at the feel of something inside him as it just keeps making that awful, screeching. He’ll break it of that noise, but first- the Autobots.

• You’re trapped, the dark space you’re wedged in forcing you into an awkward hunch, unable to stand up straight or sit. It’s a coffin, your brain whispers as you pound your fists against the warm metal in a panic to get free. You feel like you can’t breathe and when the monster who imprisoned you begins to move, you’re battered against the walls of your prison. That building panic seizes you by the throat, vision flaring white then black as your head bangs off a wall.

• Beaten again by a Prime. Fury is a living thing inside him, as he grits his denta. How many times now? No matter how much he pushes himself, he can’t overcome the Matrix of Leadership and the unfair advantage it bestows on the Prime. The other name is just there in the back of his processor, but he won’t speak it, much less think it. That mech is long gone, twisted into a tool for the aristocracy. A Prime.

• Inside his chassis, the alien is silent, its cries having quieted during the battle. Still alive, though. He can sense its weak field washing into him in little, reassuring waves. That vague sense of peace that comes with the contact only makes him angrier. Maybe he’ll let Shockwave take it apart to figure out what this is. Some sort of defense mechanism?

• He doesn’t remove it until he’s safely ensconced in his own quarters, his army off tending to their wounds. It’s unresisting as he lifts it free, hanging limp from his servos and sluggishly leaking something red from a cut above its eye. Moving to put it down, he finds himself strangely reluctant to do so. It’s must be something it’s doing to him. Weakening him somehow as it snares him with this strange need to not break this contact.

• Sitting heavily on his berth, he uses the tip of a servo to nudge a limp arm. He’s seen organics before, fragile little things that never survive being caught in their war. There’s a vague guilt there, but it’s old and kept chained away in a dark part of his processor with all other weakness, with that other name that had belonged to a brother. The leftover vestiges of a miner named D-16. Megatron has no need for them. Carefully tipping its head to the side, he soaks in that odd, peaceful sense of rightness that touching the creature brings. Despite how soft and weak it is, it’s curiously shaped like a Cybertronian. Bipedal, two arms, and two legs.

• And even though he realizes it’s dangerous, he can’t set the alien aside. Can’t relinquish that strange need pulsing in his spark that insists this fragile thing is his. That this contact is right, even as it’s very wrong.

Previous Next

I just want to write silly transformers nonsense, but my beta reader had to remind me that I do owe updates on two manuscripts- this story line is her fault. Trying to change gears between what I normally write and my for fun stuff didn’t go very well, but hey, I kept it SFW. I’m counting it as a win.

[kolbalissh]

wip game!

tagged by @beabnormal24 ! your carbono wip already has me wanting more UGH its so freaking good, and no doubt to it

now i myself havent been writing much at all tbh, this half written angst (?) carcar fic is all i have at the moment lmao i might keep writing it if motivation strikes again haha

anyways enjoy!

wip :

Like clockwork, Oscar woke up in a bed that wasn't his again. The scent of the sheets smelled nothing like his space but one that's become so familiar, the musky cologne and the smell of fabric softener mixed with his own gradual husk over the course of the nights he's spent here. He looks to his right, the duvet flipped over and the area empty, only the indents left on the pillow and mattress evidence that someone was indeed there.

He reaches out with his hands, softly touching and smoothing out the wrinkled sheets beside him, his pale arm stretching out first thing in the morning - or was it noon?

It doesn't matter; he knows his routine. He gets up, picks up the clothes thrown across the floor from last night, puts them on, and then goes to brush his teeth — it's odd, really. He knows to leave at the earliest, that he may overstay his welcome, but then Carlos insists that he has his own fair share of clothes, socks, toothbrushes, and other things at his place, even going as far as keeping Tim Tams in his pantry.

It made Oscar's mind go wild. He's always been good at reading others and always been good at being the one to mask his own demeanor, never letting more than just a polite smile speak for himself in any given situation. He wasn't as charming as the other man, somehow even in the wrong, people would thank Carlos for his troubles even if it was Carlos who caused much of the calamity.

But he could never read Carlos properly. The signs everywhere contradicted each other the moment Oscar thought he could come to a conclusion. One moment he's safely nestled in between his arms, drifting to the safest sleep he's had in years and the next they don't call or talk for weeks at a time. At times Oscar walks around the Spaniard's Monaco apartment in nothing but boxers and his old toro rosso shirt with a cup of warm tea, and the next he can't understand why he has to wake up to an empty bed with hardly just a note on his bedside table.

Carlos was a good person, he can confidently say that for sure, he didn't wrong him nor did he intentionally hurt the younger man, but something wasn't as straightforward for him the way it was for Oscar. Maybe it was tough accepting yourself at such a later age when you have spent so long being somebody you aren't or maybe it was a phase, maybe Carlos just wanted to experiment since he couldn't before.

But Oscar wouldn't know. You put two introverts in a room, and the walls would erode first before either spoke to each other. Oscar would like to know him more. Talk about their sisters, talk about how they spent their childhood holidays, Oscar thinks that if they'd talked they'd realize they have more in common than they think.

Though Oscar is also stubborn, his inquisitive nature wouldn't beat his ego. He'd rather stay mum for the rest of his time with Carlos than be the first to ask him about the things that have made the man he spends most of his nights with.

tagging @shrimptiger @rocketinthesky @tiredwishes ! (no pressure)

[gales-tits]

Hello hello! I wrote this for @dekariosclan but it ended up getting a little bit more personal than I meant for it to. ANYWAY! Domestic and fluffy with just a single drop of angst for Flavour. Not nsfw but has some implied stuff at points aha. Uses a nongendered Tav, actually reading back it would be easy enough to read it as any gender you so wish, but I wrote it from the pov of a female tav. Uses 'you' and is in first person!

Title: Massage Wordcount: 3077 Trigger warnings: Some intenalised self hatred and mentions of weight and past abuse about weight. Synopsis: You and Gale spend your first night together after moving into his tower; sore from... everything, Gale tries to make you feel better, but your own thoughts about your body get in the way.

“Are you sure you’re alright, my dear? Forgive me for saying so, but you look a little… drained.” Gale’s words were soft and warm, a hand reaching out to rest on your shoulder, thumb rubbing over the flesh there. His eyes were just as comfortable, although there was no doubt you both looked as exhausted as one another. You flashed him a low smile; but he was quite right. Drained truly barely begun to describe it, of course. After everything you had been through together, coming back to Waterdeep felt… strange. It hadn’t been home for you before, of course, but after you had finally faced down the possibility of a life that continued beyond the tadpoles – his offer of a life together had been irresistible. So here you were. The meagre things you owned had been moved in. The tower was dusty, and through the day Gale had been running here there and everywhere, sheepishly deactivating traps that he had left when he’d been snatched. Ways to prevent anyone getting close to him, to the danger of the orb in his chest…

“I’m tired, yeah,” you admitted, quietly. “But I’m glad that we’re here now.” the place was… well, not opulent, admittedly. It was all practical. A tower, yes, with endless stacks of books, a library that had exploded across the entire space. The dust of neglect, from more than just the time you’d spent exploring, laid thick across the space; magic was only doing so much to get it all back into good order, but Gale had focused on this little area. The bedroom. An oasis of cleanliness and comfort in amongst all the chaos. Your stuff was stacked in one corner, although, admittedly, the few small crates looked miniscule in amongst all the Gale of everything. You let your eyes linger on them; one had been opened so you could access your clothes, with intention to start to put it all away properly once the tower was more in a functioning order, but right now, you still felt.. odd. Beyond the tiredness of it all.

“Oh, me too,” Gale said, brightly, offering you a smile. “It’s strange, in fact. I was sure that coming back here would feel… well.” he paused, eyes lingering on your chests before drifting away, around the room. There was a distant quietness there, one you didn’t see often, when the yapper would actually drop back a little. The fierce intelligence you could imagine buried in books, studying and learning, so utterly focused as to forget to eat or drink. Your hand reached out, resting atop his where it sat on the blankets, and he looked back around with an easy smile. “I must admit.” he cleared his throat, shifting to turn and look at you, thoroughly, tangling his hand into yours and giving you his undivided attention. “I was expecting it to feel bad. This big empty space. All that time I spent here… rotting away.” he held up his arm, turning it carefully, the one that wasn’t holding yours. Whilst the black and purple markings had gone, the orb’s corruption drawn away, there was still a stiffness in the limb, a puckering of scar tissue running through it. Both of you knew he most likely would never get full use of it back.

You didn’t mind, though. The damage was just a sign of everything you’d been through, of his strength. Hopefully a strong enough message to keep him from ever doing anything so foolhardy again. You doubted it, though. He might be settled now, but that hunger for adventure – you didn’t doubt it would bubble up again. Right now, it didn’t matter. Right now, you were safe, in a big soft bed, with Gale Dekarios, holding your hand and looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world.

“I was thinking that I might sell the place, in fact. Find a smaller dwelling. Something on the ground.” he chuckled, “A proper house, perhaps.” “Still with a library?” you teased. “Oh, undoubtedly!” he grinned back, with a low chuckle, “But, I don’t know… with you here, the tower doesn’t feel like it did before. The dark corners feel less shadowed. It feels like it’s… brighter. Warmer. You make it feel full.” he reached your hands up and kissed the back of your knuckle where they were entwined, as you smiled right back, unable to help it, a hint of a shine of a tear in your eye at just how honestly he was speaking.

“Oh, you sap.” you settled on, and he laughed louder now, nodding. “Yes, yes, very much so.” he murmured, leaning up to catch your lips in a kiss. His hand untangled from yours, sweeping up to cup your cheek as he oh so gently pressed against you. It seemed that the urgency which always accompanied him before had died back. Without the end of the world looming over you all, there was time enough to take things slow. Luxuriate. His lips were soft, and so very warm; the stubbly beard scratched against your chin, almost enough to tickle, and you were forced to draw back with a breathless laugh as his moustache hairs pressed uncomfortably into the soft flesh inside your nose. Leaning back against the pillows, your sudden movement seemed to have overbalanced him slightly – a hand came up to hold onto the backboard, his chest leaning over yours.

“Are you quite alright?” he asked, a hint of concern slipping into the warm words, brows drawing together. “Yes.” you swept hands up to his chest, easing him back to sitting next to you. “I’m fine. You’re just a bit… scratchy.” you admitted, rubbing the inside of your nose, scrunching your features slightly to remove the echo of the discomfort. “Oh, I am ever so sorry.” he reached up himself, smoothing down the hairs with one hand, “I’ll have to dig out my beard oils – it’s been quite some time since I’ve been able to use them with any regularity. Ahh, it will be nice to be back to regular bathing,” he admitted, stretching his arms up in the air. “I shall have to find a job, too,” he mused, “I find the draw of my previous studies has somewhat faded. Perhaps I shall reach out to Blackstaff. They were always sending me letters enquiring of me wanting to seek out teaching… too busy trying to become archmage to pay them any due, of course.”

As he rambled, you adjusted how you were sitting, but it was just no good. Your shoulders were aching; your lower back, too. The travel had been hard on all of you, the long days on your feet, the fighting especially. The muscles were strained and tender, and whilst you didn’t doubt you were in pretty good shape after all the hard workouts, it hadn’t done much to change the softness of your body. You were big, had always been so, and whilst new muscle worked underneath it all, anyone at a glance would be able to label you as – well – fat. Gale didn’t seem to mind, but it still sat a little strangely on you that he couldn’t. Everyone, through your life, had been on your case about your weight. An endless frustration that, no matter what you tried, you hadn’t been able to shift it. You were just… big. Still strong, plenty able to cast a spell, pull back a bow or swing a sword – you were a hero of Baldur’s Gate, damnit! And yet here you were. Still fat.

It was starting to feel like you had some kind of moral failure going on.

Maybe just because you were over-tired, and sore, but you were suddenly blisteringly aware of how ridiculous it all was. Everything before had been a mad rush. You were facing down near certain death; the parasites one thing, but Gale doubly so. He had been destined to explode! Had this relationship been a mistake? Maybe that was why his eyes lingered so on your stuff in the corner. The unbelievable offer, to make you a Dekarios… he couldn’t possibly mean it. He must be regretting it. Your eyes drifted over to his face as he rambled, looking up at the ceiling now, gesturing instinctively as he extolled on the joys and tribulations he might face down, working at the place he’d studied in the first place. You rubbed your knuckles over the bit of your shoulder you could reach, doing quite nothing to actually ease the pain off. The idea that it had all been a wild rush and that he would soon come to his senses, away from the risk of danger… how could he possibly want you? Handsome, smart, immensely skilled, kind and gentle…

“My love?” his eyes were fixed on you now, and you startled, realising he must have said something that needed a response. “Sorry, um, yes – I was just, uh -” “Lost in your thoughts.” Gale filled in, reaching out, fingertips gently resting on your cheek again, smiling faintly. “Don’t worry. It’s late; hard day. Easy for the mind to wander. Especially once I get talking.” he chuckled, “If you ever need a quick sleep aid, do not worry; I will begin one of my lectures for you.” your heart tensed slightly; that self deprecation that leeched through. You didn’t find him boring. His passion, no matter how dull the topic seemed to be, was a point of fascination for you. You would have to break him of this habit, whoever had convinced him that he wasn’t worth listening to.

“However, what I asked – your shoulders?” he gestured, releasing your face, “Are they bothering you again?” “Ah – yeah.” you admitted, trying to straighten and stretch your back. “Not used to sleeping in a real bed any more, I suppose.” you laughed, softly, shaking your head, “Or… not being constantly on edge.” you added, and he nodded, slowly. “It has been some time since I last performed the task, but, well, you are already… familiar with just how skilled my fingers are.” he offered a slightly lecherous grin, and you tried to ignore the slightly hot flush in your cheeks at that particular memory. Yes, he did have very talented digits indeed. “Perhaps I can help ease your discomfort? So you can sleep?”

Your heart skipped. Part of it, you recognised; you were truly exhausted, and you weren’t sure even the most lazy way of slotting your bodies together would help. Something else, though – a low rumbling fear. He’d seen you bare. You’d had to silence each other’s noises with your mouths before, to avoid the rest of the camp hearing you tangled together. Yet – that uncertainty lingered. His desire for you, even now… were you just a Gale sized hole for relief? The belief that there could be any attraction towards you… “Oh, my dear,” he said, eyes widening, shifting to sit up a little more clearly. “No, no, I see your mind racing away – I meant more that I could ease your discomfort. A massage?” he said, tilting his head to one side with a faint smile, “I myself am far too tired to tangle in such a way tonight… well. I mean, if you did want to, I’m sure I could… rise to the occasion,” he chuckled, with a rough burr at the back of his throat, “But no, I merely wished to ease your pain and discomfort as best I can. Then we can get some rest?”

“Oh.” you felt the flush deepen slightly. You felt a little silly, admittedly, for jumping to that conclusion, but still. Eyes lingered on his hands, the faint smile, the warmth in him… and thought to just what he would be touching. Not grasping in the throes of passion, floating in the astral where the body and mind were totally disconnected, none of that, but him seeing you, in the light, running his hands over your flesh? A deep shame blossomed inside your chest, imagining him having to push against your fat to press into your muscle, feeling every fold and… “No.” the word came out too sharp. His eyes widened, barely perceptible, and you looked away. “No, I mean, I – thank you, um. But I think… it’s fine. Don’t worry.” you leaned up, pulling down the pillows you had been leaning up against, and slunk down in the bed, turning your back to him.

Silence hung. The duvet shuffled slightly. His soft breathing filled the air. He hadn’t slithered down behind you.

“My dear.” the words were soft, extremely cautious, a tentative tiptoe into the water. “Are you… okay?” you didn’t answer. “I’m sorry if I have, ah… touched a nerve of some kind. I only wish to offer you some relief.” if you didn’t know better, you would have thought he was near tears. “Please – do tell me if there is some reasons I should not have offered such a thing? I… wouldn’t step on any toes, as it were, should there be something I have… upset, in your mind. A past trauma, perhaps? The last thing I wish to do is upset you…” his voice trailed off. Guilt in your chest, tensing, not sure how to even begin this conversation. Maybe you were being ridiculous. This wasn’t his fault. The offer had seemed genuine, but…

You sat up again, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, back still to him as you sighed.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” you said, softly. “It’s me, Gale. I’m the problem.” “I – what? In what sense?” he asked, gentle. “Because I don’t… think you’re attracted to me.” he spluttered, making to interrupt, but you kept going, steamrollering him, “When we were on the road, we were all we had, right? Everybody had their own shit going on, of course they did, but I was… leading us, for some reason, and we were all going to die, and you were going to die in an explosion, so – everything was frantic. We were just – thrown together. Finding what we could. But now, this? Now you have to live with me. Introduce me to your parents. Get a job and live… together. And I don’t think you want that.”

“What on earth are you talking about?!” Gale demanded, and you spared a tiny glance to see that he was getting up, walking around the bed until he could kneel in front of you, his knees cracking as he did so, but paying them no mind. His hands took yours, determinedly looking into your eyes.

“I love you.” he said, low, intense. “Listen to me. You. Every part of you.” you weren’t sure how he managed to do it, Gods, every time, staring through into the real reason, reading you like the books he was always lugging around. “I love the way you laugh. I love the way you brush your hair.” he reached up, tucking a strand of it behind your ear. “That noise you make when you get into a hot bath. I love every single bit of you. Listen to me.” he repeated. “There is not a single part of you that I don’t love. Even your achy shoulders.” and despite yourself, you laughed, softly. “I want to be with you. I want to touch you. I want to smell your morning breath, and get annoyed about you not doing the washing up, and you getting annoyed at me for leaving my books all over the place.” he insisted. “I don’t know who taught you that you aren’t worth of love, but I promise you, I am going to make up for it.”

“I could say the same to you.” you whispered back, looking into his eyes; the intensity with which he spoke, low and warm, the loose hairs and the grey streaks. “Touche.” he admitted, softly. “You’ve made that clearer for me, though.” he murmured. “You’re the one that taught me that Mystra didn’t matter any more. That she never truly loved me. You…” his voice broke off, with a soft crack. “You’ve taught me so much, love. I promise – I love you. No matter what. Now – will you let me give you that massage now?”

“Yes, alright.” you laughed, despite yourself. “Do you need a hand standing up?” “Please.” he said, sheepishly, “I need to put a rug down here. Stone flooring is not good for my knees.” you wrapped your arm around his shoulder and helped lift him to his feet again. After a little finagling, he got you laying face down on the bed, straddling your hips. He murmured a soft incantation, and as he began to press his thumbs into your spine, they gently glided over the surface, as if oiled. His hands were, indeed, plenty skilled. But you tensed as his digits caught just slightly, the folds of your flesh as you had previously worried about… a jarring reminder of your body. “Shh.” he murmured, adjusting his grip slightly. He leant down; leaving a lingering kiss on the crook of your shoulder. “I love you.” he whispered, “And that means all of you. You are… beautiful. No…” he chuckled, tucking his nose against your skin for a moment before drawing back, resuming his slow work up towards your shoulders. “That cannot begin to explain it. Hm… you are… beyond explanation. Every part of your is perfect. The Gods themselves cannot compare to your beauty.” he whispered, and you groaned, although more from his thumbs working into a tender spot than because of his words.

He adjusted his grip again, starting to focus in on the knotted muscle, expertly working it loose. His weight on your back was solid and comforting. “You put the stars to shame,” he whispered, voice as warm and smooth as whatever oil was working into your skin. “You are the best thing in my life. The brightest thing in my skies. The most perfect, beautiful, wonderful person…” his voice was getting quieter as your shoulders began to ease and relax, his hands working in perfect symphony. You barely even realised as you finally slipped into sleep, dreams drifting through astral skies, floating on an ocean of stars and sighing softly, vaguely aware of Gale pulling you close to the warmth of his chest as he dozed off too. The solid beat of your hearts working in tandem, unafraid of what the morning would bring.

[sorrowmoons]

While reading your lord in black doll hc post I just like to imagine living with four horrifying eldritch entities just in their doll form being little shits.

This gave me a silly doodle idea LOL

No but FOR REALLL. They would be gremlins in their doll forms. I could just imagine they’d want you to take them anywhere you go, so you’d bring them in your bag out in public. Sitting in a cafe? You better buy something for Nibbly. Tinky would be playing with whatever is in your bag—Pokey would kind of just be listening to whatever is playing on the Cafes radio. Blinky will just be staring at whatever he can. Wiggly,,, he kinda just talks the most. Probably abt how odd humans are? I don’t really know. All the while sitting on one seat or still in your bag… on the seat.

People would definitely give you looks, because it seems like you’re kind of talking to no one, lol. You try to whisper but they pretend not to hear so you’ll have to talk louder.

They will try wondering off and you go chasing after them without anyone noticing. They like to do this because it’s fun seeing you run around, trying to rangle them together. I feel like, for this form anyway, they are the least aggressive? Like, they’re dolls, I feel like they’re used to being manhandled. So you grabbing them wouldn’t phase them. But if you deliberately try to rip, tear, or break their seems they’ll get pissed.

Anyways, love the idea of Tinky just going through your things. He’ll play with whatever you have lying around, curious to what you have. Nibbly will stare and drool over what you’re making for dinner. Or.. really anything, lol. He’ll constantly ask if he can have some. Like, every time he finishes what you gave him, he’ll ask for more. You’re practically giving him all your food at that point. (You’ll eventually learn to say no, he’ll just grumble and walk off)

Pokey will be looking through your wardrobe, probably commenting on your poor fashion sense. (He’ll critic anyone’s fashion sense that isn’t his,, but if you’re good at fashion, he’ll want to steal what you have) He will also force you to put music on all the time.

Blinky follows you everywhere. Seriously, he will. You’ll have to remember to lock your bathroom door, because that’s the only place you’ll have privacy from now on. He’ll give you the credit for locking the door, leaving you alone, but if you leave it unlocked, he’ll casually be hanging from the doorknob, staring at you like it’s nothing. So.. be carful taking showers/baths. (All he would do is stare, dw.)

Wiggly is probably the most “calm” out of all of them. He will mostly watch from afar, seeing how you live your human life. He’ll take note on your mannerisms, hobbies, basically he will want to know everything you do. He tends to love to be picked up. (Imagine his doll forms plush arms reaching up for you whenever you walk by.)

There’s really no reason as to why, lol. He just likes being at your level. It’s also funny to him to watch you balance other things while he’s in your hand.

Yes, they’ll sleep in your bed. No questions asked. Also, there’s no such thing as personal space with these guys. They will climb all over you, lay on you, etc. Nibbly snores for sure. He’s also the most sprawled out too. Blinky.. it seems like he never sleeps. (Technically, none of them need sleep. But they do it for fun, to mimic what you do essentially.) but yeah, Blinky just stares, as usual. He’ll eventually look away.

But you have to admit, it’s comfy eventually. It’s like taking care of children. (But they, are in fact, old ahh eldritch entities.)

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Anyways speaking of sleep it’s 12am currently , I gotta got to bed dawg what