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kogo-dogo · 2 years

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TES Summerfest Day 1 - DREAMS

Brushing off the dust after a super long hiatus and getting back into the swing of things by Making Myself Do a Daily Challenge Thing. So, here's to reviving my prehistoric Morrowind OCs in the name of gearing up to maybe actually rewriting that monster fanfic I wrote fourteen years ago.

Day 1: Dreams

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The sky was as gray as his fur, and the sea a deep, wine black that was strangely placid in the advent of a storm. Waves softly lapped up against the stone dock, mist splashing against his bare feet and seeping between his toes. A distinct odor--like salt and ash--permeated the air as a cool, gentle breeze rolled in from the furthest reaches of the water. Karsaga’s ears flattened against the back of his head, his nose twitching in confusion. For a dream, this was all very vivid.

Vivid and yet hazy, if such a thing existed. The light was bleached white, colorless, giving everything a muted feeling, like being stuck in eternal twilight. When he clenched his fists, he could feel his claws digging into his palms, something he knew shouldn’t have happened if this were all simply a figment of his imagination. Where else could he have been, though? He fell asleep in a dingy bed in a flea-ridden Ald’ruhn inn, and it wasn’t like he could sleepwalk all the way to the Sea of Ghosts without anyone noticing.

Right?

Well, now that he thought of it, there was that one time…

Karsaga shook his head. He sighed, raking a hand through his mane, and decided that where he was didn’t particularly matter at this point. He was somewhere, and he was alive, and it most likely was just a bizarre, lucid dream he was having after weeks upon weeks of anxiety and oddities. This was just a combination of too much greef and a desire to go home, back where things were simple and his mind wasn’t always at war with him.

Back in Rathendis Falls, there was no Caius Cosades. There were no Blades. He wasn’t an operative of the Emperor, and these gods-damned cults Caius was so interested in didn’t exist. Nightmares of mer in golden masks didn’t wake him up at all hours, and an omnipresent feeling of deja vu didn’t make his skin tingle every time he went somewhere “new.” There was no song playing on the wind, no talk of prophecy, no irritable natives who made him feel small for the first time in his life. No nagging feeling of betrayal when house mer and Ashlanders talked to him like he was less than trash, like he somehow knew they should know who he was and appreciate him.

There was no talk of Nerevar. There were no memories of Nerevar. Nerevar was just a name in a book he would never read. The Nerevarine was somebody else’s problem.

Karsaga closed his eyes, letting the wind flow around him, tickling his whiskers and mussing up his fur. Just the thought of the predicament he found himself in made his muscles painfully tighten, his jaw clenching so hard that he could feel his teeth cracking under the pressure.

“You look lost.”

Somehow, Karsaga knew he wouldn’t be alone. That’s never how it was in these sorts of dreams. Calmly opening his eyes, he turned over his shoulder with a grunt to regard who was coming up behind him on the dock. It took a moment for his eyes to focus--or, perhaps, considering how strange this place was, for the person to focus--but the figure was distinctly mer. No tail, no snout, and proportioned so he knew them to be inhuman; there were no other options. No man-race had features that fine.

“Oh. It’s you.”

The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he was perplexed as to where they came from. While he had no idea who it was, he did sense some kind of familiarity with them. This is definitely someone that he should have known. Dream logic, he supposed. Dreams had a habit of making you do and say and feel things that made no sense.

As the figure strayed better into view, the details became clearer: a gold-skinned elf with a shaggy, unkempt row of hair that was already well into the process of collapsing. They weren’t an Altmer, not quite, being a far more deep golden color than any High Elf he’d ever seen. Rings and emblems dangled from his ears, and he wore pieces of chitin and leather that had been gilded with cracking gold leaf.

He was handsome, but exhausted. Scarred. Distracted. There was a faraway look in his eyes as he turned his gaze toward the sea, staring off into the distance like there was something there to see aside from the black waves rolling in.

Karsaga crossed his arms. The feeling of familiarity never faded. It was infuriating.

“You come here a lot,” the mer chuckled humorlessly.

“Oh, do I?”

“As often as I do. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that we were of like minds.”

There was something knowing in the mer’s voice, which Karsaga didn’t like but piqued his curiosity. His eyes narrowed as he let out an angry huff and turned away, ignoring the elf as he slipped closer to his side. After all the weird nightmares, all the utter bullshit he'd had thrown onto his plate, he'd had enough. One more enigmatic dream that left him feeling confused and unrested was the last thing he needed.

Being obviously annoyed didn’t deter the stranger, though. Soon, he was sidled up right next to him, folding his arms over his chest as if to mimic his exact pose.

“How lost are you?” the elf asked. He sounded concerned. Karsaga inhaled sharply as he tried to will his irritation away. Something told him that being angry wasn’t how he was supposed to handle this situation.

“I don’t know if ‘lost’ is the right word,” he responded after a long pause. “I’m frustrated.”

“About what?”

“Everything.”

It was a juvenile response, but honest. To the mer’s credit, he seemed to understand. A small smile tugged at the end of his lips as he uttered an insincere laugh and nodded knowingly. It was a sentiment he shared, apparently.

“So it goes,” the mer answered. “But, I’d posit that I know your frustrations rather well. We seem very alike.”

Again, his voice took on an air of knowing that made Karsaga’s skin crawl.

“If I had to guess,” the mer sighed, “you’ve found yourself in a situation that is making you question who and what you are. You walk into places and they’re not how you remember them, though they’re places you’ve never been. You know names and faces and don’t know why. Your stomach sinks when you hear certain words, but you don’t even know what those words mean. It’s all so familiar and right at the tip of your tongue, but there’s nothing for you to say.”

Karsaga’s brows furrowed even as his heart leaped into his throat. The mer smirked and shot a playful glance at him, before breaking into a grin and inhaling deep. He had a lot more to say.

“You’ve been dragged into something you don’t want to be a part of, something far bigger than yourself, and you know and don’t know what you’re supposed to do, how you’re supposed to handle yourself, where you’re supposed to go. It feels like everyone knows something you don’t. It feels like there is some reserve of memories to work from, buried deep in the back of your mind, that would make it a whole lot easier to do this insurmountable task. And, in a way, you wonder if this task is one you should be doing at all.”

A pause. The two regarded each other quietly, one far more amused than the other.

“Does this ring a bell, Karsaga?”

“It doesn’t just ring the bell. It rattles the whole damn cathedral,” Karsaga drawled in response. He wanted to be angry, but something in his mind was clicking into place and he could feel it. Deep down in his gut, his instincts told him to be quiet. To listen. To stifle the rage bubbling inside of him, and the paranoia blossoming in his heart.

“Well, we’re of like minds, you and I. And maybe one day, hopefully soon, you’ll realize just how like we are. Because I, too, feel lost. As if there is a world beyond what I can see, yet it affects me all the same. Sights and sounds and people. Sensations. Things that are new and foreign and terrifying, that have changed so much and yet not enough. And I don’t know which is worse: that I do not recognize this world, or that everything I hated about it remains intact. Untouched. Glorified, even.”

Silence. The mer’s gaze once more grew far away as he seemed to become lost in the sight of the sea and the storm. There was a heaviness in his lack of words, something that laid in Karsaga’s stomach like a stone and sat there, unmoving. All of his anger was gone, dissipated, replaced only with a feeling of knowing, understanding. He suddenly knew he had kinship with this mer, even if he didn’t quite know how. It was on the tip of his tongue, words he could not get out.

“We didn’t die for this outcome,” the mer quietly said. “Everything is wrong. Broken. It has to be fixed.”

Without thought, Karsaga nodded. He understood, even if he didn’t. He knew that the mer was right, even if he had no idea what it was he was talking about.

“It will be difficult, but things must be set right once more,” he continued. “So, I am begging you to not give up. As I am, on this dock talking to myself, I cannot offer much help. But, if you stay on your path, frustrating as it is, so shall I. And one day, when all is aligned correctly…”

“... We’ll not find ourselves here anymore,” Karsaga finished. “Everything will make sense.”

The mer smiled and elbowed him, a gentle gesture of camaraderie that made Karsaga raise an eyebrow. Yet, the frustration was long gone, dead embers in a dead fire. More than anything, he was just confused how he had known what to say, how to respond. Why this mer just kept feeling more and more familiar the longer he stared, as if he was gazing at his own reflection.

But before he could ask, the mer turned. Arms still folded, he began to walk into the mists behind him, growing paler and fuzzier the further away he wandered. While Karsaga wanted to yell after him, to demand answers, his voice died in his throat. His brain and his instincts warred with one another, until the only thing that came out of his mouth was the choked and pitiful noise.

Before the mer vanished for good, however, he glanced over his shoulder. It was as though the sound of the khajiit gagging on his own words gave him pause. Smiling the faintest hint of a smile, he pushed a bit of his hair out of his face and laughed. It bounced around the silence of the shore as a haunting echo.

“Do you know who I am?” the mer asked.

Karsaga slammed his mouth shut. His brows furrowed, his nose wrinkled. His head tilted and he struggled, really fought to remember something nagging at the back of his mind. Yet, when he finally found his words, the only thing that came out was a dead-certain, “Almost.”

“That is better than I was expecting.”

And with that, the mer was gone.

Karsaga was alone, with the wine black sea lapping at the shore.

#I'M TRYING TO WRITE AGAIN BY GOD #morrowind #elder scrolls #just fuck me up i guess i'm writing my nerevarine for a week #stupid bastard #tesfest22 #tes

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outfitandtrend · 2 years

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#FASHIONFORMEN

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mochegato · 3 years

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Even the Losers

Chapter 18

Chapter 1 Chapter 17

Mari waved up at Nightwing before turning toward the café. He grinned and waved back. No sense of embarrassment at getting caught like Red Robin had the day before. She didn’t know enough about him to know if it was because he wasn’t hiding, Red Robin had given him a warning that she knew someone would be there, or because he had no sense of embarrassment, or most likely, a combination of all of those.

Adrien looked up and grinned too. “What time did he take over?”

Marinette shrugged and cut through the café’s outdoor seating. “Later than yesterday. When did Dick leave? It was some time after that.”

Adrien looked at him for a moment and shook his head. He looked back at Marinette before the memory of sleep deprived Marinette hit him. He grimaced. It was hit or miss whether she would be funny, emotional, or a danger to herself. If Batman was the same… “I really hope Batman doesn’t have a day job because with all the all-nighters he’s pulling, he would have to be a zombie at work.”

Marinette giggled at the idea. “Can you imagine Batman with a day job? What do you think he does? Like, could you imagine him as a kindergarten teacher?” Marinette’s giggles grew into full blown laughter. She finally was able to gasp out, “Batman complimenting some little kid’s rainbow and assuring them that making the entire rainbow the same color was extremely creative and beautiful. Or trying to guess what animal they drew.”

Adrien laughed and patted her arm to get her to stop. “Wait, wait. Batman crouching next to a toddler and explaining for the eighth time in the last three minutes that Pete the Cat is in fact a cat, not a dog before patting them on the head and walking away to scream into a nap mat.”

Marinette Laughed hard enough she almost missed the door handle. She jumped when Adrien suddenly grabbed her arm. She turned to him wide eyed but she immediately relaxed. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet with excitement. “No, no, no. A PA to some… NO, to M. Wayne! Batman as M. Wayne’s PA. Oh my God, can you imagine?”

Marinette giggled and shook her head at him, pushing through the door. Well, that would certainly explain why the bats seemed so close to the Waynes. She spotted Duke and waved. He jumped up and waved them over. “Hey, Duke. I hope you don’t mind that I brought Adrien.”

“Not at all,” Duke gave them both a hug. He looked toward the bathroom with a smile. “Good to see you again, man. I hope you don’t mind that Cass and I both brought someones too.” Cass and Stephanie were walking toward them with a red headed woman in a wheelchair. Duke leaned toward them and lowered his voice so the women approaching couldn’t hear him. “Brought is a really liberal term for what happened. I am so sorry. I knew we shouldn’t have mentioned meeting with you in front of Stephanie.”

“Hey Cass,” Marinette called out. She and Adrien waved at her. “Good to see you again, Stephanie.”

Cass waved back and nodded with a wide smile. “Marinette!” Stephanie chirped. “I’d say what a coincidence we ran into you guys here…”

“But that would be a lie,” Barbara finished for her. “Hi,” she held out her hand for them, “I’m Barbara.”

Marinette smiled and stepped forward to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Well yeah we crashed,” Stephanie rolled her eyes and dropped into a seat across from Marinette. She sent a playful glare toward Duke. “You guys have been keeping her all to yourselves all week. It’s our turn to hang out with her again. Not to mention I wanted to catch up with the woman who fed the Riddler’s own balls to him for everyone to see.”

“And we wanted to see how you’re doing after it,” Barbara added with a chastising look to Stephanie. She turned to side eye Duke. “We tried to check with the boys but they were less than helpful.”

Marinette shrugged and leaned back slightly, not enough for anyone else in the café to notice but everyone else at the table picked up on it. “I’m fine. It wasn’t bad. More embarrassed he caught me in the first place.”

Stephanie waved her off. “Please,” she scoffed. “He had to knock out like an entire block just to get you. That’s better than some of the bats.”

“Well, you look like you’re healing well,” Barbara nodded with a supportive smile.

Marinette smiled as naturally as she could and tried to control how much she was shifting in her seat. She really, really hated talking about the whole thing with not only people who didn’t know she had been a superhero, but with the Waynes after that dinner, so that was two strikes against discussing this right now.

She’d been able to joke about it and moan about how contrived the whole setup with Alya and Nino. They’d laughed all night about the audacity. Not only had he thought he could stump her with a question about Chat Noir, he thought he would win against her in a game that relied on luck or rather bad luck not striking. It was almost enough to make her forget the way the dinner had ended. It was exactly what she had needed. But she couldn’t do that here.

“Yeah,” she chuckled anxiously. “My cheek seems to be doing well. I’m hoping I can cover it with makeup by next week.”

“How’s your shoulder?” Duke asked motioning toward the shoulder she’d rammed into the doorframe when she was running away.

Marinette blinked at him a few times before she quirked her head to the side, her face scrunching in confusion. “How did you know about that?”

She could see the rest of the table tense up, Adrien included but for the same reason as her, confusion on how he’d known. She had no idea why the rest were tensing up. Duke chuckled awkwardly, sending looks over to the women at the table. “He’s covering for me,” Barbara finally spoke up.

“Why is… what is he covering up for?” Marinette asked cautiously.

“My father is the police commissioner,” she said quietly. “I may have snuck a look at the police report… slightly illegally… and read about your injuries.”

Marinette shook her head. “But, I didn’t tell them about that.”

“No,” Barbara acknowledged, “but Signal did.”

Marinette nodded, trying to process that information. “Huh,” was all she managed to eke out. Her mind raced trying to figure out what to say next. She was saved from trying to figure out how to move the conversation along by the waiter. The topic seemed to fade away naturally as everyone put in their order.

As soon as the waiter left, Duke clapped his hands with a bright smile. “So, Steph, you said again. I take it you guys have met before?”

“At the gala,” Adrien nodded. “Only briefly though. We,” he motioned between him and Stephanie, “spoke for a little bit, but Marinette only spoke with her for a few seconds.”

Stephanie grimaced at the reminder. “Yeah… not exactly the ideal meeting.”

Marinette waved her off. “Not your fault. Don’t worry about it.” She sent her a sincere smile.

“No,” Stephanie agreed. “It’s Bruce’s.”

Cass pulled out a credit card with a wicked grin. “On Bruce.”

Barbara nodded. “Exactly. Therefore, this lunch is on Bruce. Maybe we should go shopping after this too?” She raised an eyebrow at Marinette.

Marinette giggled and shook her head. “No, thank you. That’s okay. I’m good.”

Stephanie’s eyes lit up. She leaned closer to Marinette like she was sharing a secret. “Speaking of the gala, how did you get tickets to the gala anyway? We never figured it out.” Barbara groaned lightly and smacked her on the shoulder. They had just changed the subject. Marinette probably did not want to talk about the gala, where they raved about their family and the newest member, which was not her and did not did not include her.

Instead of freezing up or withdrawing, like Barbara worried she would, Marinette started laughing. Her eyes were sparkling with mirth. She leaned closer to them over the table and lowered her voice. “I pimped out my friend,” she confided with a smirk.

The rest of the table froze until Adrien groaned and Stephanie and Duke started laughing loud enough to draw disapproving looks from neighboring tables. Cass raised an eyebrow, but her lips were quirked up in amusement. “Say that again,” Barbara prompted.

Marinette shrugged and took a sip of her drink. “I don’t know if it counts as pimping if he did it willingly. He was willing to do it for Max.”

“Oh my God, Marinette.” Adrien ran his hand over his face in exasperation.

“What exactly was he willing to do?” Barbara’s voice was now less amused and more wary.

“That was the worst possible way to say it,” Adrien groaned.

“You know, maybe I don’t want to know the answer to that…” Barbara hedged. She leaned away from Marinette cautiously.

Marinette laughed at Adrien’s frustration and bumped his shoulder with hers. “I offered up a date with Luka Coffaine to Audrey Bourgeois’ PA in exchange for the tickets she turned down,” she explained.

There was absolute silence for a few seconds until Stephanie broke the silence. “You know Luka Coffaine?” she yelled.

Everyone in the café turned slowly to look at them. Marinette’s eyes widened and looked around at them. She gave them an awkward smile and a wave before turning back to the table. Before she could chastise Stephanie, Cass was already on top of it. She pointed sternly around the restaurant and back at Stephanie. Stephanie nodded guiltily. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” She turned back to Marinette excitedly. “I just…” she lowered her voice and leaned closer to Marinette. “You know Luka Coffaine?”

Marinette rolled her eyes at her excitement. It was always so bizarre to see people’s reaction to Luka. It was Luka. Just Luka. Calm, reserved, laidback Luka. The hysteria around his name just never seemed to fit. “Yeah, I mean, we dated for a while so… yeah.”

“You dated Luka Coffaine!” Stephanie yelled again, receiving glares from everyone at the table. Marinette shrunk down in her chair and gave a strained, apologetic smile to the rest of the café. Cass slapped Stephanie’s shoulder and shook her head. Stephanie waved her off and focused back on Marinette. “Yeah, yeah. Discretion. Whatever. She dated Luka freaking Coffaine,” Stephanie insisted, motioning to Marinette.

“You dated Tim Drake,” Duke pointed out.

Stephanie snorted. “That’s just Tim. He’s just a big dork. She dated…”

“Yeah we got it,” Barbara cut her off.

“Really, so is Luka,” Adrien shrugged. “Probably more so, just about music.” Marinette cocked her head to the side in thought for a few seconds before nodding in agreement. He really was.

“Holy shit. Did he introduce you to his dad?” Stephanie was bouncing in her seat at the idea and the potential for an inside scoop on Jagged Stone.

“No,” Marinette answered. She smiled internally at the way all their faces, except for Adrien’s fell, just a bit, almost imperceptibly, as if trying to hide their disappointment. “I already knew him.”

“You know Jagged Stone?” Stephanie yelled. Marinette cringed as she sent the other patrons another apologetic smile.

Duke leaned over closer to her so he could whisper in her ear, though his voice intentionally carried across the table. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this anymore.”

“No!” Stephanie screeched, before catching what she did and settling down, a mask of composure settling on her face. “I’m fine now. I just needed to get that out. I’m calm.” She stared at them for a few seconds before almost lunging across the table. Adrien deftly moved his and Marinette’s drinks before she knocked them over in her zeal. “Please tell me more.”

Marinette’s eyes widened and she started laughing. “You realize you’re basically a daughter to the richest man in the world. If you wanted to meet Jagged Stone, you could.”

Cass shook her head. “Different.”

Barbara nodded. “She’s right it is different. You dated his son. That’s a different type of knowing someone.”

“So you met Luka through Jagged?” Stephanie pressed.

Marinette suddenly looked uncomfortable. She was not really excited to talk about their family dynamic and secrets. It was a little too close to her own and she really, really wanted to move past that, not dwell on it more. “No… I met Luka through my friend Juleka, his sister. We went to school together for ages. They’re both some of my best friends.”

“And she introduced you to Jagged?” Duke asked curiously. He could tell something was off about this based on the way Marinette responded, but he wasn’t sure what.

“No… um…” she stuttered. “I met Jagged through a school project. Designed some sunglasses for him and we’ve been close ever since.” Adrien grabbed her hand and squeezed it under the table

Stephanie looked between the two of them and plastered on a bright smile. “So what I’m hearing is you can hook us up with some tickets next time he comes into town.”

Marinette laughed lightly. “Either one of us could, yes.”

“Or for Clara Nightengale,” Adrien added in. “She loves Marinette, too. She wanted her in one of her videos.”

“She wanted you in it too,” Marinette reminded him.

“No,” he corrected her, “Gabriel got me into it. She just had to deal with it. She didn’t choose me. She chose you. She worked to get you in the video.”

Marinette opened her mouth to refute that but snapped it shut quickly as the words resonated in her head. She meant more because Clara chose her. He was thrust on Clara. But it didn’t mean he was unwanted. She looked down at her food and took a bite, trying to cover her sudden inability to breathe. Trying to give herself time to process. She needed to pack that away for later when she could properly unpack that statement, deconstruct it, and then finally reconstruct it in some skewed, perverted version of the original situation.

Adrien immediately froze seeing her reaction. He opened his mouth to say something but Marinette squeezed his hand under the table before he could, a silent message they could talk about it later, when they were alone, or at least not with an audience comprised of Waynes.

“So how did you meet Mons…” she stuttered. It felt strange to call him M. Wayne when everyone else at the table was calling him Bruce. Should she call him Bruce too? Like they did. Like Dick did? Or B, like Jason did? “…M. Wayne?” she finally settled on.

Duke grimaced. They had a cover story, but was he really going to give Bruce’s daughter the cover story? The truth involved Batman. But Bruce hadn’t told her about that part of their lives yet, and even if he had told her, he certainly hadn’t told Adrien. “It’s a long story…”

Marinette smiled encouragingly at him. “We have time.” She saw him falter and felt her own smile falter. She took note of the way the women had frozen up as well. God, what was she doing? M. Wayne had said how they met. Why was she bringing that up now? What was she thinking? Even if he was okay discussing that trauma, he probably didn’t want to open up about it with a stranger.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she assured him. “It’s… it’s fine.” She looked around desperately for something else to talk about, a change of topic to make the conversation not so awkward. “You graduate from school next year, right?” Duke blinked a few times before he let out a breath and nodded. She let out a breath as well when the rest of the table seemed to relax at her question. “Do you have plans for after you graduate? Are you going to take a gap year or go to university or get a job?”

“I haven’t really decided yet. Go to Gotham University, I guess,” he shrugged.

Marinette smiled disarmingly at him. “You don’t have to decide now. You have time.”

The waiter interrupted Marinette’s response with their food. They gave their thanks and started eating. “So what have you missed the most while you’ve been here?” Barbara asked.

“My parents’ cooking definitely,” Marinette grinned as she looked at her food. It didn’t look bad, but compared to her parents’ cooking… well not much compared. “And the atmosphere. Gotham is…” she looked around them as she thought of an unoffensive way to end that sentence.

“Dreary as Hell,” Stephanie finished for her. “Yeah, we know.”

“I swear you guys have more gargoyles than we do though, which is just strange to me,” Adrien added. “We were supposed to have the market cornered on gothic architecture.”

“Oh, you still do. We just took the most depressing, dismal, gloomy, nightmare inducing parts and ran with it,” Duke grinned. “But I would like to see Paris sometime. Go see the Eiffel Tower… and jump off it.”

Barbara, Stephanie, and Cass all groaned at him. Barbara gave him a stern look and pointed a warning finger in his face. “Not during the day.”

Duke laughed at her. “Well I’m not going to do it at night.”

“Do it at sunrise,” Marinette advised. “Less gendarmerie around then and if you angle it correctly, you get the most gorgeous view of the sunrise.”

“Bring sunglasses if you jump that way though. I didn’t and I saw spots for hours. Oh, and stretch first too,” Adrien added. “You’re going to have to parkour for quite a while to try to ditch the GN.”

The rest of the table stared at them, jaws dropped in shock. There was absolute silence at the table except for the sounds of Marinette sipping her drink and Adrien chewing his food. “You’ve…” Duke started almost too in awe to be able to finish the sentence. “You’ve jumped off the Eiffel Tower?”

Marinette nodded and motioned between the two of them. “Both of us have. Both during an akuma attack and not. Not was much preferable to during.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” Stephanie asked slowly. She was like 90% positive it was but during akuma attacks, who knew what was legal anymore and Hell, maybe they had days where they gave exceptions. Stranger things have happened.

Marinette speared a bit of food and pointed it at her. “Only if you get caught.” She popped the food in her mouth with a triumphant grin.

Barbara blinked at her a few times and shook her head because dear God, there was another one. She was going to fit right in. No wonder she and Duke got along so well. Both creative, smart, kind, thrill seeking, dumbasses. “I’m pretty sure that’s not how that works,” she deadpanned.

Adrien shrugged and took a sip of his drink. “I don’t know. We didn’t get arrested, so I’m pretty sure it is.”

Duke and Stephanie started laughing hysterically. They looked over at Cass with raised eyebrows when they settled down. Cass stared intently at Marinette and Adrien for a few seconds, staring into them like she was reading their souls. Marinette and Adrien looked at each other with identical unsure looks and subconsciously leaned back at the same time, shuffling in their seats. Cass stared at them for just a few more seconds before she nodded.

“Holy shit,” Duke muttered in awe. “You were telling the truth.”

Marinette looked back over at Adrien for an explanation he clearly didn’t have, judging by the blank look on his face before looking back at Duke. “Uh… yeah?”

“What just happened?” Adrien asked tentatively.

“Sorry about that,” Barbara sent them a disarming smile. “Cass is kind of like a human lie detector. She is exceptionally good at telling if someone is lying. She just confirmed that you two were not.”

Marinette blinked at Barbara a few times before turning to Cass and blinking at her. “Huh… good to know,” she nodded slowly. Her eyes stayed on Cass but it was clear her mind was running a mile a minute behind them. After a few seconds she spoke up again. “Can you tell the lies people tell themselves too?”

Cass quirked her head to the side and studied Marinette for a moment and shook her head. “Have to know.”

Marinette nodded and silently took a bite of her food. “Well, that has to come in handy,” Adrien chirped. “Remind me to take you with me when I meet people.”

Marinette could feel eyes boring into her. She looked back over at Cass and raised a curious eyebrow at her. “Hero,” she finally said.

Marinette coughed for a second and looked back at her with her most convincing blank look. “I’m sorry. What?”

Cass nodded toward Marinette. “Eiffel Tower.”

Marinette chuckled disarmingly and shook her head. “You think I’m a lot more honorable than I am. You think it’s more likely that I was a hero than that I knowingly, intentionally, purposefully violated the law for fun.” She leaned closer to Cass with a smirk. “But I can assure you, I regularly did.”

The others at the table looked to Cass. She quirked her head to the side and gave a small smile before nodding. “Truth.” Cass pointed to herself. “Next time.”

Marinette grinned and nodded excitedly. “Absolutely.”

Duke cleared his throat. “And Duke,” Cass added.

Marinette chuckled. “Of course. We can make a New Kids Club event out of it.”

“And me!” Stephanie chirped.

Barbara sighed and turned to Adrien. “Dick said you had a job interview yesterday. How did it go?”

Marinette beamed at Adrien as he responded. Adrien’s face lit up. “It went well I think. I think I’d really enjoy working there! I met the department chair and other professors. It looks like a really supportive department and University, very research oriented.”

“Where is it?” Duke asked between bites.

“Metropolis,” Adrien answered, his fondness he’d already developed for the city bleeding into his tone.

“Oooh, Conner lives there. If you’re still deciding if you want to live there or if you need a tour guide, or recommendations on where to eat, he’d be more than happy to help,” Stephanie offered.

Marinette’s smile turned into a pointed smirk and Adrien groaned quietly. “Conner, did you say?”

Stephanie looked between them, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Yeah?”

“That wouldn’t happen to be Tim’s single friend would it?” Her eyes never left Adrien as she asked, her smirk somehow getting even sharper.

Adrien groaned even louder when he looked over and saw Cass’ smile matched Marinette’s and Duke and Stephanie both had devious, familiar looking glints in their eyes. This was clearly payback for all his attempts to set Marinette and Chloe up with different people. “Why yes, yes it is. How about that,” Duke grinned.

Cass pulled out her phone and moved her finger around the screen for a second then finally looked up with an innocent looking smile. Adrien groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “I’m not even in this family. Why am I being punished?”

Barbara laughed and popped a bit of food in her mouth. “That’s funny. You think just because there’s no paperwork, you haven’t been adopted already. I made that mistake at first too.”

Chapter 19

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8 @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone @ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark @nerd-nowandforever

#maribat #bio!dad bruce #bio dad bruce wayne #roynette #mbdbwm2021 #prompt - heroes and villains #Even the Losers

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shysneeze · 3 years

Text

Do Me a Favour | Fred Weasley x F!Reader

Description: Fred and the reader’s relationship seen through a series of favours

Warnings: its kind of angsty, brief description of injury (umbridge’s detention related) briefly battle of hogwarts related, miscommunication i guess

Tag-List : new form is here for anyone interested in being added

~* Fifth Year *~

“Do me a favour?”

It’s a question (Y/N) has been practicing internally for at least an hour, yet her voice still wobbles as she asks it aloud. Fred, lying back in the grass, soaking in the late summer sun, peeks open one eye to look up at her with a questioning brow.

“Yeah?”

“K-kiss me?”

A second passes before he reacts, sitting bolt upright in an instant, choking slightly on the gasped breath taken in the process. Regret floods her chest with a mortified ache and she finds herself dropping her eyes to the ground and picking at tufts of grass nervously.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter,” She mumbles, “It’s stupid.”

“Kiss you?” He repeats, “L-like on the lips?”

“I shouldn’t have asked,” She argues embarrassedly, “I was just- I haven’t- it doesn’t matter.”

He blinks at her, confusion pulling his brows into a frown. Confused is probably the only word he can come up with to explain the whole thing, because quite frankly, it’s not everyday your childhood best friend asks you to kiss them. Then, much to (Y/N)’s further mortification, realisation flickers across his face.

“You’ve never kissed anyone?”

He asks it like he’s surprised, something that only goes to confuse (Y/N) herself. Yet she nods, too obviously embarrassed to even attempt to play it off as some elaborate joke or simply fib her way out of it.

“Really?” Fred asks, “And you want me to be your first kiss?”

“I just want it out the way,” She explains hastily, “Don’t go getting big headed about it… it’s just a favour.”

He’s silent, the most silent she’s ever heard him before even, and it does nothing but add to her growing concern that in one fell swoop, she’s managed to ruin sixteen years of friendship. She’s on the verge of what is bound to be an incoherent string of apologies when he finally answers.

“Okay.”

Her breath catches with something between relief and sheer panic.

“Really?”

“What sort of friend would I be if I denied you such a simple favour?”

‘Simple’ is perhaps an underestimation of what she’s asking, and she can see the nervous way he licks his lips despite the grin he throws on instantly to disguise it. She’s gotten this far though, too far to chicken out now with his warm hand cupping one of her cheeks as he leans closer.

The sun has brought out millions of freckles across his pale cheeks, and for the first time she’s so close she could count them. Part of her, a side of her she’s never met before, thinks about tracing her finger across them, connecting them like constellations. Something in her chest twitches at the thought.

“You ready?”

“Don’t make it sound so clinical,” She mumbles.

“Listen, beggars can’t be choosers.”

She smiles, glad for the familiarity of his teasing. It has some of her nerves dissipating, her lungs expanding with a light, freeing breath before she nods.

He’s tentative for only a moment, their lips meeting in the lightest of kisses until she’s instinctively pulling him closer, fingers curled around a handful of his gryffindor tie. He lets out a surprised sound from deep in his throat, though he doesn’t pull back.

In fact, if he knew kissing his best friend might feel this good, he wouldn’t have asked so many questions before doing so in the first place. At the feeling of her grip slipping from his tie, he feels his heart dropping disappointedly, chasing her lips subconsciously as she pulls back.

He watches her contemplative expression, a good distraction from the racing of his heart in his chest and the unexplainable urge to kiss her again. She gives him a wide-eyed look, eyes darting in every direction as she navigates whatever millions of questions are running around her head.

Then, she clears her throat, nodding as she begins to get to her feet and leaving him dazed on the grass with reddening cheeks.

“Thanks,” She says, “I owe you one.”

~ *Sixth Year* ~

“(Y/N),” Fred exclaims happily, portrait door swinging shut behind him as (Y/N) looks up from her book to meet him with a frown, “Just who I was looking for,”

“That’s never good,” She says, slowly closing her book, “When am I busting you out of detention this time?”

“You wound me,” He retorts before dropping onto the couch beside her with, pressing the back of his hand against his forehead with a dramatic flair, “Me? Detention?”

His head lands haphazardly on her lap and she looks down at him with an amused look, shaking her head in teasing disbelief. His lips twitch into a grin, one that (Y/N) knows is just the beginning of what she doubts will be a simple request.

“Do me a favour?”

For a split second, she freezes, a slight shiver crawling up her back at the question, which little under a year ago saw them kissing by the lake. He holds her eyes in a knowing gaze that causes her to nod cautiously.

“Okay…”

“Come to the ball with me?”

Her brows lift into a surprised expression.

“What?”

“The Yule Ball,” He explains, sitting up now to face her properly, “I need a date.”

She gives him a long, questioning, look, searching for some tell-tale signs of a Fred Weasley joke in the makings. Sceptically, she narrows her eyes.

“Why?”

“You owe me one.”

She bristles imperceptibly, gulping at the knowing look that swims in eyes and twitches the corners of his lips into a small smirk.

“That and I left it all a bit last minute, you see,”

She can’t quite decide whether it’s hurt or relief that tugs at her chest at the revelation, that he’s only asking as a last resort. It’s a much more simple version of the scenario she’s been building in her head since he first asked his question, one with far less feelings to get more attached to.

“What if I’ve already said yes to someone else?”

“Well, I have it on good authority that you’ve been turning people down for weeks now,” He raises a brow, “What’s that about? Holding onto hope of being asked by someone special?”

The teasing tone he’s going for comes out strained in a way (Y/N) has never heard from him before and she frowns for a second at it before rolling her eyes.

“No, I’m not,” She answers, “I just didn’t feel like going with them.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you don’t have a date?” He says, “And neither do I… how convenient.”

She lets out a short scoff, shaking her head in disbelief at the pleading puppy-dog look he’s managed to perfect in just a few seconds. She exhales a loud reluctant sigh that has the corners of his mouth pulling into a smile.

“Is that a yes?”

“Hmm,” She nods, “I guess,”

“How romantic.”

“Ah well, as a wise boy once said, beggars can’t be choosers.” She manages a smirk of her own, “Perhaps next time you’ll find yourself a date sooner than a week before the dance.”

Something in Fred’s face drops for only a split second, and not even their years of friendship helps her read it. It’s only a moment before he’s disguising it again with a lopsided grin and a playful shove.

“Shut up,”

~* Seventh Year *~

Fred’s finger tips are warm as they trace the red-raw words scratched into the back of (Y/N)’s hand, lookin from it up to her eyes with a look she knows means a lecture. She sniffles slightly, twisting away from him to plan her counter argument.

“Before you say anything,” She starts, “Your hand is just as bad so don’t start on my detentions.”

“I wasn’t going... “ He sighs, “Well, I was, but you’re right. I’m just trying to figure out how to get the pink hag back for it.”

“Don’t do anything stupid... I’m fine.”

Fred let’s put a disagreeing grumble.

“Fred,” She says warningly.

“I know,” He breathes out reluctantly, “I just worry when it’s you.”

She turns back to face him, hoping to catch whatever expression has followed such a revelation, but she’s too late, finding him instead twisting away from her to search through his bedside table drawer. He returns with a small jar of healing balm, what she’d come to his dorm for in the first place, or at least that’s what she’s telling herself.

“What happened this time?”

“I missed curfew again,” (Y/N) mumbles, hissing in a breath when the balm touches the open wound, “I was at the library trying to teach myself the bloody defence course since she won’t- ouch.”

“Done,” He assures with a soft smile, “Wuss.”

“It’s not that when you’re the injured one,” She teases, though she’s not feeling quite up to it, “I can’t believe this is how we’re spending our last year.”

“I know.”

She’s not sure what’s causing the tears that have welled in her eyes though, certainly not from the sting of the healing balm or even the general pain from the scar itself. Yet she can’t help the tears that have begun to fall from her lashes and slip down her cheeks.

“Hey-” Fred looks up, brown eyes wide in surprise, “What’s going on?”

“Sorry,” (Y/N) hiccups, wiping her eyes hastily, “I don’t know why i’m crying.”

“Take your time,” Fred says, rubbing soothingly at her back, “It’s okay,”

“It’s all just a bit much isn’t it.” She manages after a moment, “Newts are hard enough but now w-we’ve got this absolute psychopath of a defence teacher who doesn’t actually teach, we’re training to fight deatheaters and- it’s just a bit much.”

“I know what you mean,” He admits solemnly, “It’s pretty messed up.”

“Sorry, it’s stupid.” She shakes her head, “Everyones going through the same thing-”

“Don’t do that.” He frowns, “That doesn’t mean you don’t get to be upset about it, (Y/N).”

“I know but-”

She hears him click his tongue against his teeth disapprovingly, and she can picture him rolling his eyes though she doesn’t have time to see for herself, not with his arm around her shoulder as he curls her into his chest.

She freezes, as if this is something bizarre, as if they’ve not shared hugs a million times growing up. This is protective though, like in his arms, for even just a moment, he’s protecting her from everything wrong in the world.

“Fred?” She sniffles against his chest, “Do me a favour?”

“Anything, (Y/N).”

“Just- just hold me for a bit.”

His breath catches, heat blossoming in his chest as he pulls her closer, running his fingers through her hair in a soothing motion.

“Of course.”

~* Post-Hogwarts*~

“Do me a favour?”

(Y/N), seconds from falling asleep, fit perfectly between Fred and the back of the sofa, peers up at him with bleary eyes and soft smile.

“Of course.” She exhales tiredly.

“Be with me.”

She freezes, replaying it over and over in her head, not entirely sure she’s not dreaming. At her silence, he lets out a sharp noise that sends a jolt of panic into her body, waking her up well and truly. She lets out a choked sound as his arms unravel from her waist and a chill hits her as he begins to pull back.

“What?”

“It’s late-” He begins to backtrack.”I’ve got to open up shop tomorro-”

“What did you just say, Fred?”

He gives her a look that's almost pained.

“Don’t make me say it again.” He pleads, “Let’s just forget about it-”

“You… You like me?”

He lets out a sound close to a pained laugh that lodges itself in his throat as he twists awkwardly away from her. A deep crimson colour has begun to creep up his neck and he pulls nervously at his shirt collar in a meek attempt to combat it.

“I’ve not been very subtle, (Y/N).”

“Clearly you have!” (Y/N) bursts, only shrinking with the realisation that, just down the hall, George is sleeping in his room. “Since when?”

“Since you kissed me,” He exclaims exasperatedly, “Favour bloody one.”

She stands, suddenly hit by the need to pace, to move around as she deals with all the questions that race through her head. Gulping, Fred watches her move, suddenly afraid that he’s made this favour their last.

Then, she comes to a stop.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“An idiot,” (Y/N) repeats, “You made me feel like the last resort for the yule ball, but you’re telling me that was serious?”

“Hey,” He frowns, “It was serious right until you started giving me this look like I was insane and I had to cover my arse somehow-”

“Shut up,”

She drops herself onto his lap, cupping his cheeks in her hands and holding his face there, inches from her own. He watches, frozen in awe, as her eyes dance across his face. She’s tracing his freckles again, close enough to be mesmerised all over again.

“Since we’re pretty terrible with signals,” She exhales, “When I kiss you now… it’s not just a favour.”

“Thank Merlin for that.”

~* The Battle of Hogwarts*~

Hogwarts has never felt so different.

Standing here now, it’s hard for (Y/N) to imagine these are the same hallways they once walked down, that she and Fred used to sneak through in the dark for midnight snacks and linger outside of before teachers arrived.

Tucked into an alcove of the corridor, Fred and (Y/N) watch the havoc unfolding, keenly aware of what lies ahead, the war that’s been looming over them all year. He holds her hand in his own, squeezing it as reassuringly as he can manage as she chews nervously on her bottom lip.

“It’s going to be okay, right?”

“Of course, Love,” He smiles, lifting a hand to gently caress her cheek, “We’ll be fine.”

She nods, melting into his warm touch. But nothing eases the weight that has settled on her chest, the anxious feeling that is telling her everything is about to go wrong. She searches his eyes for something familiar to cling onto.

“I don’t like us not sticking together,” Fred admits quietly, “We should be where we can keep an eye on each other.”

“I promised Madam Pomfrey I’d help with the injured,” (Y/N) admits sadly, “And you should be with George.”

“I know,” He breathes, “I just don’t like it,”

She smiles sadly in agreement.

“Me either,” She admits, “but I’ll be fine… I’ve always had better defence marks than you anyway,”

Much to (Y/N)’s relief, Fred laughs, bringing back a sense of normality, even if just for a moment. The hand on her cheeks pinches her playfully and his brown eyes roll with a teasing glint to them.

“Look at you, joking in a crisis,” He teases, “I’m so proud,”

“I’ve known you long enough to have picked up some sort of ill-timed sense of humour,”

He lets out a short chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I love you, (Y/N),”

“I love you too,”

He leans in to capture her lips in a gentle kiss, a practiced art that has a well-known warmth flooding (Y/N)’s chest. Yet, as he pulls back, he leaves something bitter sweet behind, the ache of a goodbye kiss.

“I should go,” He admits, “Before we end up caught up in the crowds, right?”

“Yeah,”

“I’ll see you once it’s all over,” He grins, “When we’ve won,”

It takes a moment for (Y/N) to convince herself to let go of his hand and feels suddenly cold once it’s gone. He’s turning away with one last wave when she calls him back, heart hammering in her chest.

“Do me a favour?”

He pauses before breaking into a small smile.

“Always, Love.”

“Don’t die.”

“I promise.”

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred x reader #fred imagine #fred imagines #fred x you #fred weasley x you #reader insert #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #fred and george #fred weasley

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sohin-ace · 3 years

Text

※ A walk with the Jojos

Inspired by a 'A walk with BTS' meme scenario I found somewhere.

Gender neutral and Aromantics friendly :)

-----

Jotaro: Puts his coat over your shoulders when it gets cold.

A gust of cold wind flew past you and Jotaro as you both strolled down the streets of his hometown peacefully. A sharp shudder coursed through you, goosebumps almost painful on your sensitive skin.

Oh how you wished you brought a jacket or at least your school uniform cardigan with you. The early days of spring had started sunny and trustworthy, but of course, the temperature had to drop on you on that very special day.

Your incessant rubbing of your arms and duck of your head didn't go unnoticed by Jotaro next to you. He was aware of the cold and could see from the corner of his eyes how flushed your fingers were and how you winced with every blow of the unforviging wind.

The boy didn't think twice and sighed, proceeding to shake his long gakuran off of his broad shoulders.

You didn't even notice he was disrobing until you felt heavy and warm fabric suddenly weight down on your shoulders, enveloping you, the loud clanking of chains accompanying the movement.

You looked up at the tall male, pleasantly surprised yet also confused, and he only grumbled in response, looking straight forward.

"Yare yare daze... You could have just asked you know."

You never dared. You couldn't dare. After all, it was your problem that you forgot your jacket at home. It surely wasn't Jotaro's job to fix your mistakes, you thought. You wouldn't bother him for such a trivial matter, no matter how close you were. Of course, Jotaro did not share that mindset at all.

You always wondered how he managed to notice every little changes about you and every single reactions while also acting so nonchalant and careless. Behind his rough appearance and act, you loved Jotaro for his selflessness and his unmatched kindness.

You sighed in bliss as you hugged his jacket closer, so warm and soft around you. What a relief it was for your cold skin, it felt like his very own rare embrace.

It smelled just like him, too. You usually weren't a fan of the smell of nicotine and would often tease him for it, but when it was so deliciously mixed with his foreign cologne and his natural scent, it felt like something close to heaven to you. Something comforting, safe, and incredibly gentle.

His jacket was gigantic compared to you and you were sure you looked like a fool wearing this unfitting blanket, swallowing you and making you look even smaller and ridiculous than you already were next to him.

"Thank you Jotaro." You grinned, appreciative towards this kind giant, who you were grateful to always have your back whenever you needed, without even having to ask him.

He responded with a subtle nod before grabbing your shoulder and keeping his strides forward, seemingly satisfied with his good deed and with your smile.

Joseph: Accidentally trips you when he turns to talk to you.

It wasn't unusual for Joseph to blabber on his bizarre adventures. With all the things he had lived, he always had something to recount.

You'd always tell him to write a book about all his plights, but then you'd remember the guy barely had enough braincells to even put two and two together and instantly drop the idea.

Today was just a normal day in New York City, you had been strolling around with the behemoth, listening intently, or rather, tiredly as he rambled ceaselessly.

You were stuck between loving all his crazy stories and being annoyed at his obnoxious and theatrical, 'Jojo-fied', as you liked to call it, storytelling.

"And then he said 'You'll never touch the ground ever again Joseph Joestar!' but look who's in outer space now, huh?!" He yelled out, making a few heads turn with his exaggerated hand gestures and booming voice.

You nodded your head and responded with very basic 'Uh huh's and 'Oh's, as well as 'That's cool' and whatnot. Not like you didn't care for what he was saying, but you just couldn't figure what to tell him. Also, the unnecessary attention you were getting was quite flustering too.

"GASP! Y/N I ALMOST FORGOT!! I DIDN'T EVEN TELL YOU THE BEST PART YET!!!"

Before you could even process what was happening, Joseph forcefully turned towards you, gasping loudly and intenting to grab your already very well-gripped attention.

But the brute was so clumsy about it, he kicked his unreasonably thick leg in front of your much smaller feet, not warning you as you kept walking, only to trip over him with a yelp that you'd never forget.

"YEEEK-!"

"WOAAH-!!"

With an even louder scream, Joseph tried his best to grab you before you could kiss New York City's piss tainted ground, yanking you to your feet as best as he could, which was more than enough with the strength the man had.

He eventually held you against his chest firmly, his arms belted more than securely around your shoulders and back, shocked and scared that if he loosened his grip even the slightest, you'd either fly away or just collapse.

You panted with adrenaline after regaining your balance and barely left him any time to laugh at your demise or even react at all.

"JOJO YOU FREAKING DUMBASS!!!" You hollered all your fury, pushing yourself off of him, "I ALMOST DIED HERE!!!!"

Joseph cowered in fear as you proceeded your attacks on his poor arms, chest and face. He yelped in pain, desperately putting his arms up in front of him in hopes to shield himself from your unstoppable slapping. For someone with such small hands, you sure hit hard.

"Ow ow ow stop please! This is abuse!! I'm sorry-Ow! Please, n-not there~ ACK- OKAY FINE I'LL STOP!!!"

Josuke: Notices your shoe lace in untied and ties it for you.

In the small, crazy, noisy and bizarre town that was Morioh, there was a famous legend running.

"That if your boyfriend kneels down to tie your shoelaces for you, they'll never come undone ever again! Do you believe that?" You chuckled, barely paying any attention to your surroundings.

Josuke strolled mindlessly next to you, half listening, half not. You were well aware that boys like him often had a hard time paying attention for more than a minute unless it was about sports, video games, or a very big pair of boobs.

"Hmmh, yeah. Crazy stuff..." He mumbled, looking blankly forward, his eyes catching passing cars and boutiques but his ears catching none of your words.

"Hey... Are you even listening?" You glared suspiciously at him, frustrated already. This boy could never concentrate.

"Oh tell me about it." He replied, not even knowing what he was even responding to. Eye twitching, you tested him one last time.

"Rohan has a really nice ass and I'm much better at Smash Bros than you'll ever be."

"Oh, absolutely. You know it!" He nodded, much to your great offense.

"Hey.. Josuke...!" You growled, ready to give him a good slap of reality, "Higashikata!!"

As if on cue, Josuke glanced down and noticed that your shoelaces were untied as you walked.

Without even thinking twice about it, Josuke moved his hands from where they were resting behind his neck and instantly brought one to your chest, stopping you dead in your tracks.

You shot him a puzzled look at his sudden behavior and he immediately bent over, getting down on one knee, on the floor, in front of you, without a care in the world, right in the middle of the street.

You looked down at him and gasped as you noticed he started tying up your poorly secured shoelaces that you didn't bother knotting properly in the morning.

"Oi-! Josuke, what are you doing?! Get up, it's fine I'll do it mysel-"

"Oh shush." He cut you off, handling the chords into cute and safe little bows on your shoes, like a knight, or a prince, happy to fulfill his duty.

You couldn't hold back your blush at the embarassing and impromptu situation. Your heart raced as you tried to get him to stand up, but he was adamant on helping you whether you were embarassed or not.

The boy was completely nonchalant about the ordeal, never caring about the weird looks you both were getting and the many whispers of 'how cute' and 'what an adorabe couple' people were gushing out.

You couldn't reciprocate the indifference. You knew Josuke was the serving type, and this was normal for him. To make your life easy, to treat you, to protect you.

And to fix you.

"... Are you sure you haven't been listening to me? I feel like you're hitting on me right now Jojo." You raised an eyebrow as he got up, proud of his handiwork.

His expression soon fell into a shocked one and he visibly stiffened, "Huh? What? No I'm not?!"

"You literally tied my shoelaces right after I told you that's a boyfriend thing to do!" You shot back and he blushed deep red, gasping at yout sudden assumptions.

"What??! It's not though!! I'm not- I wasn't even paying attention!"

"You're hitting on me, I'm telling Mr. Jotaro."

"NO DON'T TELL HIM!!!"

Jonathan: Carves his and your initials into a tree.

Jonathan had invited you to join him one afternoon in the usual place you both loved to hang out.

You two talked and walked around a path that you could call your little escape route. One you've used so much, you were pretty sure to be responsible for green-less trail that longed the riverside.

Very suddenly, Jonathan stopped dead in his tracks, without saying anything, effectively grabbing your attention.

"What's wrong, Jojo?" You asked, looking back at him.

Without a warning, he took out a small object from his pocket, smiling coyly at you. You were confused but your expression soon shifted when he pressed on a small mechanism that swiftly revealed a sharp, shiny blade.

You flinched and gasped, bringing a hand to your mouth in shock. "Jojo!! Why are you walking around with a pocket knife?! Are you crazy??!!"

He panicked at your reaction and got flustered, agitating his hands around, a dangerous gesture to make for someone holding a knife.

"N-no no no! Wait, Y/N! It's just- I mean, it's useful sometimes... I mean..." He blabbered, not knowing how to breathe between words anymore, "I don't use it... Or- well... I don't do weird things with it it's just-... I would never-... "

He stuttered anxiously, trying to justify himself, getting more and more stressed with your lack of response. Oh no, God, he didn't want to scare you off or lose you over something like this!

He would never forgive himself if you ever thought he were a dangerous man, or a delinquent, or worse, that he'd ever hurt you, and in such a cowardly way too.

He stopped panicking when you suddenly chuckled.

"Ooouh~ Oh my~" You sang teasingly, before pointing at him in playful accusation "Am I hanging out with a baaaad boy~? Jojo you nasty man!"

"S-... STOP IT!!" He cried out as you laughed your heart out, scared that somebody might hear you and take it the wrong way. "Just... Hold on..."

With the knife in his hand, he turned his back to you and started carving something in the tree trunk. You approached and tried to look over his shoulder, wondering what kind of nonsense he could be drawing in there.

"What is this?" You gently tapped his busy arm and he tried to hide his work from your nosy eyes.

"Wait! It's a surprise! I'm almost done... Just... A little bit..." He grunted a bit as he finished carving the blunt surface, "Aaannd.... Done!"

He stepped back, wiping his brow and leaning his hand on the tree, letting you enough space to admire his little work of art. Proud yet also a bit anxious about your reaction.

You got closer to the little heart he drew on the tree. Heart with both your initials in it. For the sake of discretion, he rathered write your initials over your names, which made it all the more adorable, in your eyes.

You gasped lightly, not able to contain your giddy smile. "Jonathan! That's so cheesy! Who taught you that? Have you been reading those weird romance novels?"

"Yes- I mean, NO! No! I don't read that! I'm a man! Only girls read those!" He spat back, flushing a shade of red you wished you could paint.

"Hmmmmm yeah, right!"

He could only chase you around to hopefully make you stop teasing him. He knew he'd never hear the end of it.

Johnny: Grabs your hand and places it around his arm.

"I gotta say..." You started, happily sipping on your drink, "The best thing about your handicap is how we can skip the line for everything!"

You grinned behind Johnny as you pushed his wheelchair forward, walking around the city for the short time you were in Kansas.

"I know. You'll owe me one by the way." He blankly jested, his tone not matching his humour. You've known him long enough to catch on the little perks of his speech, making you chuckle again.

You balanced your cup with one hand to get a better grip on the chair's handles and got back to pushing him. Johnny was quick to realise you were slowing down every once in a while to drink up.

"Stop." He ordered and you obliged, surprised by the sudden request.

"Huh?" You bent over slightly to try to look at him. "Are you okay? Did you need something?"

"This won't do..."

You walked around to get next to him. You were used to him having his foot falling from the footrest and putting it back before it could hurt him, or needing to reajust his back seat from time to time.

Nothing out of the ordinary, you thought. You would have never expected his next request.

Johnny looked over at you, no words shared, and offered his arm out to you, like the perfect gentleman he was.

"...Jojo?"

"I can move by myself. Drink your tea in peace." He blushed and looked away, sighing to himself.

You couldn't help your smile and endeared look. Your Johnny was always such a kind soul behind what he let show. He was observant and selfless. That's why he wanted to free you the burden of pushing his wheelchair, at least so you could enjoy your drink for a moment.

However it was obvious to you that he wanted you to hold him, so dearly, and had found an excuse for you to do so without asking you such an embarassing question.

You couldn't pass on the cute opportunity, but at the same time, you wanted him to make the first move.

You tilted your head, shooting him a faux confused and oblivious look, letting him know you needed him to be clearer in his request.

He huffed and held back on face palming, cheeks becoming redder by the second. Why were you always doing this to him? Teasing him to no end.

He abruptly grabbed you hand, softening his grip immediately after measuring his strength, and placed it around his arm.

You happily followed his lead and gently grabbed his arm, much sturdier than it looked, and gave him enough space to roll the wheels in pace with you.

"Thank you Johnny~" You chimed happily and he let out the ghost of a smile in response, smile that you sadly missed.

Giorno: Makes you dance with him when you walk past a busker.

You passed along a bay in Naples with Giorno, both of you exceptionnally finishing school early due to the surprising absence of your math teacher.

You both talked and suddenly heard the distant sound of accordion, getting louder and louder the more you walked.

You paused, much more intrigued by the musician on the paved pedestrian street, playing a beautiful song for all to listen to. He was a sweet-looking old man, playing a traditionnal Tarantella, the iconic sound of Italy.

Giorno stopped with you, wanting to hear more of what this busker had to offer. You smiled, appreciating the sweet melody and calculated movements of the instrumentalist.

Giorno suddenly walked up in front of you, bending down at the waist to offer his hand out to you, his intense green eyes inviting you and snatching you out of your rêverie.

"Would you care to honor me with a dance, Y/N?"

You gasped silently and felt your cheeks burn at his words, his voice like velvet.

"W-... What? Right here, right now...?" You hesitated, but still gently laid your hand over his soft one, seeking reassurance in his hold.

Giorno was always a charming and extremely well-mannered boy despite the lack of proper education he had received. You would always tell him how princely he looked and acted, and he never failed to impress you by his eloquence, his broad mind, and his gestures.

But you surely did not expect him to propose you a dance, out in public. The sole idea was making you self-conscious, but also excited.

He ever-so-slightly closed his fingers around yours, expecting your consent with a soft smile. You were always at ease with Giorno, for the years you've known each other. Why would you ever refuse anything he asks you?

Like he had read through your heart, Giorno swiftly pulled you towards him, placing his hand right at the small of your back, keeping you up close and personal.

You giggled at the cheesy and intimate position, placing your free hand on his shoulder and ready to mess up the pace.

"I'll step on your toes!" You playfully warned him and he chuckled, endeared.

"Don't worry, Y/N. Just follow my lead."

The busker, noticing you two, smiled and finished up his song, immediately starting up a waltz, the nicest and sweetest of his repertoire.

Giorno confidently started in graceful and fluid movements. You followed him, guided by his assured poise. You tried not to stare down at your feet, which was easy task once you got captivated by his strong gaze.

You focused on your rhythm and his steps. You always wondered why he had randomly decided to teach you to waltz, but now you were grateful that he did, because you truly felt like royalty, and this feeling was priceless.

Pedestrians gathered, watching, amused by the splendid show before them. Two adorable teenagers dancing and living their youth, accompanying the busker.

You laughed, both from nervousness and happiness, knowing well Giorno would hold up the skies just to see you smile like this.

After stepping on Giorno's poor toes more than often enough, and after almost crashing down on him, you two decided it was time to go.

Giorno made sure to tip the gifted old man handsomely, much more than conventionnal, making him wonder how such a young boy could have so much money to spare.

Jolyne: Shares her headphones with you.

You walked side by side with Jolyne. You had planned on having a nice walk alongside the beach together, but the weather had seemed to betray you two, with unusually cloudy grey skies and cold breezes.

And thus, you were prompted to walk through town instead. You were happy either way, as long as you were with Jolyne, your most favourite girl in the world, it didn't really matter where you went or what you did.

The entire walk was silent and, as much as you knew Jolyne wasn't necessarily the most talkative type, the fact that she hasn't removed her earphones at all from the moment you both joined earlier really threw you off.

You guessed she wasn't in the mood for talking. You could absolutely understand that, but the way she seemed to completely ignore you and cross you out of conversing with her at all saddened you.

Maybe she didn't want to go out at all and she just didn't have the heart to cancel on you.

You looked down, with all these questions plaguing your mind, wondering if you had done something to make her distant.

Before you could drown in more self-doubt, she nudged your arm and grabbed your attention. She was smiling at you with her cute green lips.

You looked at her confused, like you had been dreaming it all about her being upset with you. She looked so excited, suddenly.

She pulled out her green iPod, one that she had decorated with tacky semi-permanent tattoos from an infamous bubblegum brand, and immediately gave you one of her earbuds.

"Girl, you have to listen to this. It's Jimi Hendrix playing, listen, listen!" You obliged and put the earbud on, listening to her song intently, "This man's crazy, what the fuck? And they say lefties can't play guitar..."

You kept on listening, the song in one ear, Jolyne's comments in the other. She was lost in the music, playing air guitar and singing bits of the song. It was absolutely endearing to see her so happy about such a little thing.

"So? So? Did you like it?" She turned to you with a big grin as the song ended, her eyes wide and starry with hope of your validation, "I love this song sooo much, I had to make you listen! How was it? Be honest!"

You chuckled, overwhelmed by her enthusiasm and adorable giddiness, "It was really cool Jolyne, you have nice tastes. Send it to me next time."

"Yess!!!" She cheered, pumping her fist in the air in victory. "Alright, let's get some bagels now, I'm starving."

She wrapped a strong arm around your shoulder, tired of the distance separating you. "My treat! Oh! And you have to show me that new group you told me about the other day. Even Hermes is talking about them now."

You couldn't bite back your growing smile as she squeezed you close. Not because of the very appealing call of bagels, even though you were more than looking forward to that, but because of how sweet Jolyne was to you despite what she appeared.

Showing her deepest interests to you when she wasn't much of a sharer was her own love language.

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mothandpidgeon · 3 years

Text

Pedro from the Phone - Part 2

PART 1

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Pedro Across the Street x You

Summary: After Pedro tries to connect with you in person, he continues receiving mysterious phone calls but you have strange news. This is the follow up to Part 1.

Words: ~1600

Rating: all ages? (sorry this is not sexy)

Warnings: even more pining???

A/N: I really thought this was going to be a one shot and I liked the open ended mystery of this fic. Honestly I wasn’t even sure anyone was going to be into it to begin with. But I was totally shocked! I have never gotten so many requests for more on my writing and I am just a whore for your love. (OK that’s not entirely true. I wouldn’t write more of this if I didn’t think it was working.) Anyway, the people have spoken. So I’m super curious if you like where it went or if I ruined a good thing!

(And I’m working on some actual Calls smut so stay tuned for that.)

---now

Your foot was bouncing uncontrollably under the table. Your heart was drumming. You’d ordered a coffee but it was impossible to drink it when your stomach was doing backflips.

You were sitting outside the cafe in your normal seat. You’d been so excited that you’d gotten there 20 minutes early. You’d done your hair carefully and picked out one of your favorite outfits. You were going to meet Pedro. In the flesh.

You couldn’t believe how nervous you were. It seemed like you already knew him so well, there was no reason to feel intimidated. But you had butterflies. Maybe it was because your friendship was, of course, due to bizarre circumstances. And those circumstances had meant you’d gotten to know him better than some friends you’d had for years.

Life had been so boring before Pedro. You could get lost in the sound of his voice. And even though the phone calls baffled you, you’d grown to anticipate them— checking your phone over and over. You remembered how empty it had felt when the phone stopped ringing. You’d really thought you’d lost him forever. And you’d wondered if he even thought about you or if he had just been grateful the interruptions were over.

But you’d finally gotten another mysterious call yesterday, woken up in the middle of the night like a dream. You really had thought you’d been dreaming when you heard him say, “We should meet up.”

You chewed on your bottom lip. Every time a man passed by, you wondered if it was Pedro. No, that guy seemed too skinny. Too young. Too short. Could you even tell someone’s height by their voice alone?

You checked the time on your phone. 11:59. 12:00. 12:01. Your phone rang and you dove for it.

“Pedro, where are you?” you asked. You wished you could hide how excited you sounded.

“What? I’m right here,” he said. His voice sounded strangled.

“I don’t see you. I’m sitting out front,” you said. There were no other people at the cafe that were alone. You spotted a man walking down the sidewalk but he wasn’t on the phone. Maybe Pedro had gotten the address wrong. But something in your gut told you that wasn’t it.

Maybe he realized what a bad idea it was to meet an absolute stranger. Maybe your first instincts had been right all along. Maybe you should be thanking your lucky stars that you hadn’t just walked into the hands of some kind of creep.

“I think I have to call you back,” Pedro said. He didn’t sound right.

Your hand shook under the phone. “What? Wait,” you tried.

Now you didn’t care about how panicked you sounded. If he hung up, would you ever hear from him again?

“I’m standing right in front of you but….this doesn't make any sense,” he said.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

You stood up, eyes searching around for a man whose face you wouldn’t recognize.

“I don’t understand,” Pedro said. “I’m sorry-”

The line went dead.

Your mind was swimming. You felt like you might cry. Why would you do that? You didn’t actually know Pedro at all, you realized, and expecting him to show up had been foolish. There wasn’t going to be a handsome man attached to that voice. You’d gotten your hopes up. You’d gotten ahead of yourself. You’d fallen in love with a fantasy.

You stood there, trembling, clutching the phone against your ear even though there was no one on the other end.

“Hey.” Behind you came a familiar voice.

You turned around. It was him. Somehow you just knew it. He was tall and broad with dark hair, a few strands of silver. His strong, tan jaw was dotted with patches of scruff. He looked at you nervously, his brows furrowed. His soft, dark eyes were sparkling with longing.

“Pedro?” you breathed, overwhelmed by the sight of him. None of this made a lick of sense.

He nodded and he broke out in a smile, looking over your face like you were an oasis in the desert.

---then

“I don’t understand,” Pedro said.

He was standing at the cafe, looking down at your nervous face. You didn’t have a clue about who he was, it was painfully obvious. And now he could see how anxious he was making you. You were edging your purse into your lap.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought you were someone else.”

He’d hung up the phone. He got out of there as quickly as he could. He couldn’t make sense of what had just happened. He’d seen you there, right in front of him, heard your voice. It was unmistakable. But it wasn’t you. How could you exist in two places at once? He sat in his car for a long time, staring down at the blank screen of his phone, shaken.

He didn’t get another call for a week. Although he missed you, he had been so confused about the situation and so embarrassed by how much it had disturbed him, he almost didn’t want to hear from you again. But now the phone had decided it was time to connect you. He looked at the phone for a long time, frozen. At the last second, he picked up.

“Hi,” you said. You sounded cheerful.

“What the hell happened?” Pedro asked, resigned.

“It’s you,” you said with a quiet laugh. “This is so weird.”

You had trouble explaining what, exactly, was going on. You told him that he had shown up at the cafe except it wasn’t him exactly, not the same Pedro that had been on the phone. But the two of you had shared a coffee, hit it off. In fact, you’d just met up again for dinner and you’d had such a good time.

“But-”

“I know,” you said. “You told me.”

He’d told you that he’d been waiting since that first time at the cafe, that he’d been talking to you, even still, for months on the phone. This whole thing was crazy. These phone calls seemed to have jumped the track of time or reality or something. You didn’t really believe in that kind of thing. You barely had to because you had met Pedro as promised. It didn’t matter why it had happened or how. You were just so giddy.

“I think I like you, Pedro,” you said bashfully into the phone.

It made his heart melt but he felt something else. Was it possible to be envious of himself? Some version of himself from the future or some other dimension?

The phone kept ringing and every time, Pedro picked up. It was still you. You spoke to him with even deeper familiarity than you had before.

“How’s work going, babe?”

You were getting to do more of the things you had talked about.

“We’re going away for the weekend. Driving up the coast.”

It made Pedro even more desperate to be with you. You asked him a lot of questions about what he was doing but it seemed like you already knew the answers. You and Pedro, your Pedro, were growing closer.

Pedro would go to the cafe every Saturday. He felt like he was insane, sitting inside, watching you write. Wishing that time would speed up so he could start living this life he’d been hearing all about. Sometimes he would see you laughing into your phone and he knew that you were talking to him, a conversation he’d already had.

Some days, bitterness drove him to doubt and he questioned whether there was truth to anything you were saying. But then you’d mention something that made him realize you knew him like no one else. Things he’d never told anyone.

“You shouldn’t feel so insecure around your neighbors.”

Things he barely remembered.

“It always frightened you as a kid when the wicked witch’s feet rolled up under the house.”

Pedro had it all figured out and he knew soon he wouldn’t have to wait any longer. You’d go to the cafe to meet him and your phone would ring. It was all he could think about.

When he spoke to you on the phone now, it seemed like you were distracted, distant. You didn’t always linger on the call the way you used to. Maybe it wasn’t going to work and all this waiting was for nothing.

“You sound down,” you said.

“Just tired,” he lied.

He knew that you knew every intonation in his voice.

“You can tell me, you know,” you said. “I love you.”

You were both silent for a long moment. Maybe you’d realized that that wasn’t something you’d said to Pedro, this Pedro on the phone. He wasn’t sure how to respond. His mouth went dry and his breath caught in his throat.

“I’ll see you soon,” you said and rushed off of the phone.

It was Saturday. Pedro went to the cafe and sat at the window. There you were with your coffee, your foot bouncing under the table. He was so nervous now. What if this went like the last time? You’d told him that this was what had happened to you but it was impossible to know that for sure. None of this could even be explained so how could it be guaranteed to work out in a particular way?

It had been almost a year since that first call. Maybe he’d been driven completely mad.

Pedro ran his hand through his hair and steadied himself with a breath. You were on the phone, your head craning to see down the street. He wanted to touch you, to hold you against him and know that you were real. His heart was racing. He tried to push back the memory of the last time he stood in front of you. You were on your feet now, head flipping back and forth frantically. He went out through the door of the cafe. You still had your phone pressed to your ear. Pedro came up behind you.

“Hey.”

---

tagging everybody that asked for more: @pascalslittlebrat @libbymouse @danniburgh @a-bang-for-your-bucky @fangirl-316 @metalarmsandmanbuns @mouthymandalorian @bisexualolympus @wheresarizona @rebelliouscat @pedro-pastel @sleep-tight1 @pedrocentric @tigpooh67 @christina-loves @dindaddy-ficrec @patternedlantern @freeshavocadoooo @yespolkadotkitty @221bshrlocked @purplepascal042 @starlightmornings

#give the people what they want #calls #calls fic #pedro across the street #pedro across the street fic #pedro across the street x you #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal #calls apple tv +

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divinerulerluvr · 3 years

Text

Show Me How

Summary - You run away with Warren Lipka after getting proposed to by your long time boyfriend

Pairing - Warren Lipka x Fem!reader

A/N - Since i have a lot more Warren lovers than i thought following me, i figured i should do a fluff thing to keep you guys fed. No warnings for this one, just fluff :) Also, i feel like we've all imagined running away with our comfort characters one time or another so you cant lie to me and say this isn't romantic.

- - -

Rain hit the roof loudly, making a soft ambiance outside the cracked window of Warren’s apartment. Laying in his bed, his hands travel my warm skin, his lips pressing butterfly kisses all down my neck and collarbone.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n,” he compliments, his lips grazing my skin. I hum softly in response, my fingers threading through his messy hair.

The past few weeks I had been seeing Warren in secret. I had to keep it a secret due to the fact I’m in a serious relationship with another guy. Warren made me feel alive in all the right ways. He made me feel like I had been missing so much the past year and a half I’ve been dating Jack.

Of course I felt bad about cheating. It was always in the back of my mind whenever I was with Jack. But Warren was also always in my mind. I found it hard to stop thinking about him anymore.

Warren lays back on the bed, pulling me into his arms. “You have to break up with him,” he says, throwing me off guard. “Hm?” I hum in response, looking up at him. “Jack. You have to break up with him,” Warren clarifies.

I sigh, my eyes falling off of his. “I know,” I admit shyly, my finger drawing small circles on his chest. “I’ll do it tonight,”

Sitting nervously on the couch of Jack’s apartment, waiting for him to come home from work.

He finally enters the apartment, a smile spreading on his lips when he sees me. “Hi, baby,” he greets, running his fingers through his hair as he walks up to me. “We need to… to talk,” I say nervously, standing from the couch.

“Yeah, we do,” Jack agrees but in a tone that sounded more excited than it should’ve been. I have a feeling we aren’t on the same page here.

“Y/n, we’ve been dating for almost two tears now and I think it’s time to go to the next level,” Jack says. We had already moved in together a few months back. That means the next level would be something I can’t even bring myself to say.

My heart stops when he gets down on one knee. He pulls a ring out of his pocket and I feel my eyes widen. “Y/n, will you marry me?” he asks.

My first thought was no. But that’s too harsh. I mean, Jack is a nice guy. He deserves more than a short and rude ‘no’ as an answer. And fuck, that ring looks too expensive to just deny. This was too soon and we’re too young.

What I want is Warren. No matter how mean or cold that may sound. If I was going to spend the rest of my life with someone, it’d be him. Warren gives me adventure. He’s so wild and spontaneous all the time.

You never know what you’re getting yourself into when you’re with him.

He cares so much about me and it's just so fun being with him. He doesn’t allow a boring and monotonous life. With Warren, I feel like a teenager rebelling against my mother again.

“Can I think about it?” I answer after a suspenseful silence. Jack nods, standing from his knee. “Take as much time as you’d like,” he says, kissing my cheek before walking out of the room and heading down the hallway. I hear the shower turn on and use this as my opportunity to pack up my things. Once everything I need was in a simple backpack, I write a note and put it on the counter.

‘I’m sorry but this won't work. You deserve someone better than me. Sincerely, Y/n’

Sneaking out of the apartment, I jog downstairs and out into the dark of the night. It was still raining but it had calmed down to a light drizzle. Walking down the sidewalk, my mind races as I try to think about my next move.

I had just left my almost two-year-long boyfriend over some guy I’ve been seeing for not even a month.

Arriving at Warren’s apartment building, I use a key he had given me to get inside of the lobby. I get into the elevator and click on his floor. My heart beats in my ears as I walk down the hallway and stop in front of his door.

With a deep breath, I knock three times.

The door opens, Warren’s eyes meeting mine. I can tell he notices the red that lines my eyes when his brows furrow. “Y/n. What is it? What’s wrong?” he asks right away, confusion riddling his face as he stands in the doorway.

“Let’s run away together,” I say, fully aware of how bizarre my words sounded. “What?” is all he says in response. “Jack proposed and I said I’d think about it. But it’s not what I want, Warren. I’m twenty-five, I need to be free for longer,” I respond, a pleading look on my face.

“And you just left him?”

“I left a note,” I shrug, hoping he’ll agree. He stays silent for a moment, a perplexed look in his dark eyes. “Come on, Warren. I came here because you’re the king of spontaneous ideas. Let’s run away to New York and start over. Me and you,”

“Where would we even stay?” he asks.

“I have more money saved than I thought,” I tell him with a weak smile. His face softens and he eventually nods. “Give me five minutes,” he says, leaning in and kissing me quickly before disappearing back into his apartment.

He comes back with a bag and the keys to his car. “Let’s go,” he grins.

We walk down to his car, getting in and pausing for a second. I turn to face him, my lips pressed together nervously. “You sure you wanna do this?” Warren asks, wanting to make sure this wouldn’t be a regret of mine.

I just nod, smiling softly as our eyes stay locked. He leans over the center console, his hand resting on my cheek as he kisses me gently. I gladly kiss back, matching his slow and passionate tempo.

His hand runs down my jawline as he pulls back from me, his eyes studying my face. “Where to, darling?” he asks. I chuckle softly, feeling heat rush up to my cheeks at the pet name.

“New York City,”

#warren lipka #evan peters #american animals #american horror story #kit walker #kai anderson #james patrick march #fluff #fic

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oh-writing-my-writing · 3 years

Text

sastiel, 1.2k, fluff ~ for @moostiel ♡

Sam wakes up to a sensation of closeness, warmth, and the unfamiliar feeling of fingers stroking his hair - a combination that would’ve lulled him back to sleep immediately, had a voice not interrupted his gentle reverie.

“Sam,” It’s Cas. Above, under and around him. A strange thing to think, but it feels correct. “Go back to sleep.”

Sam blinks, the haze of sleep fast fading.

“It’s still night.” Cas insists, and Sam can just about make out the indignance in his voice. Sleep-rumpled and bleary, it confuses him. “Four more hours, Sam, please. Go back to sleep.”

This time, his words actually register, and instinctively Sam cranes his neck to look at his alarm clock. It had taken a few months but they’d gotten used to not relying on a sunshiney wakeup call — living underground and all that. No suns knocking on your window and peeping through the drapes to confirm your resident angel’s claims, no sir.

But today, there’s no clock either. Just like there isn’t a bedside table.

Just like this isn’t Sam’s room.

“Dude!” Sam yelps, completely awake the second the shock settles in. (That's just the way it works.)

Wide-eyed, he takes in his surroundings - Cas’s trenchcoat slung over a chair, Cas’s chair, Cas’s chest of (mostly empty) drawers, and what can only be summarized as Cas’s room. And it’s an easy road from making that out, to making it to the source of Cas’s voice — Cas — above him, as earlier bizarrely suspected.

It’s an angle Sam’s never seen Cas from before - the little dimple in his chin as clear as the day-old stubble he wears eternally, black hair sticking out like it’s at war with itself as usual, and a minorly affronted frown tugging on the corners of his lips, wrong side up from where Sam's looking.

It’s — well, it’s kind of a nice angle.

Shit.

And maybe Sam isn’t completely up yet, because he finds himself distracted way too easily by the brand new perspective he gets of Cas’s wonky tie, and Cas's neck, and -

“Sam.” Cas repeats.

With a jolt, Sam’s up, heat rising in his cheeks as he finishes piecing the rest of the picture together. The hand in his hair, the warmth of his pillow, that feeling you get when you're being held, and the way he can see Cas’s Adam's apple bob when he speaks.

Holy shit.

He’d fallen asleep on Cas’s lap.

“C-Cas.” Sam stammers out, blushing furiously now.

Cas, inevitably, makes for a complete contrast to the way he feels right now — severely underdressed in his (still too large) white shirt, and perplexed instead of offended all of a sudden, with that little crease in his forehead that he gets. “I told you to go back to sleep.”

Sam’s eyes flit to Cas’s lap at the reference of sleep, where Cas’s trousers are rumpled - Sam’s fault, holy fuck - and his hand lies on the bed where, a minute ago, Sam had been. “Dude!” He flusters, eyes shooting up immediately, meeting Cas’s. “I can’t just go back to sleep on you! I -” Sam scrubs his face, heart still racing. “I don't even know how I ended up there!”

There’s a magazine in Cas’s hand - wait, that’s the Saturday Evening Post, isn’t it - and Cas immediately shifts all of his focus onto it.

There’s something wrong.

“Hey,” Sam swallows. “What is it? Cas?”

“Well,” Cas looks up. Thankfully it’s not going to take a lot to get the truth out of Cas, because that’s his confessional I-did-what-I-had-to-do look in his eyes. Used more than once professionally, yes, but never in context of just, you know, Cas and him. Them. “You fell asleep on the map table again.”

Cas lets out a reactionary sigh as Sam freezes. “But that's in the library -”

“I carried you here.”

Jesus, if he was blushing before. “You did what — ?”

“Sam,” Cas looks down at the page, and the back up, and maybe, just maybe, there’s some pink in his cheeks too. “We’ve had this conversation before. I’ve told you it’s not good for your spine -”

“- so you picked me up -”

“- and is one of the prime causes of your sleep deprivation -”

“- and carried me across the bunker -”

“- and you need to get more sleep, so I did what I thought best -”

“- and laid me back to sleep — what, with my head in your lap?” Sam finishes, chest heaving, in disbelief. Cas - he can’t just — goddammit, he can’t just pick Sam up, can he —

“Actually,” Cas licks his lips. “You did that yourself.”

“Well,” Sam’s already begun to say before he can run it through his head a couple billion times like he tends to do with sentences when its just him, and Cas, and the end of the world is not right there. “You were still the one playing with my hair!”

“I," Cas looks truly sheepish at that, and Sam regrets it instantly. “I’m sorry. I just — I thought -”

“Cas.” Sam interrupts, well and truly operating outside of his nervous system’s reach now. His brain sort of malfunctioned at the getting-picked-up-by-Cas part, and refused to really come back. Sam can't blame it - it’s a trainwreck over here. “I didn’t mean — not like that, okay? Don't be sorry. It was — nice.”

“You liked it?”

And the tinge of hope in his tone is all Sam needs to slammed in the face with a reminder of how goddamn smitten he is.

Before he knows it, he’s ducking his head, and rubbing the back of his neck, shy. “Y-yeah. Sure.” He chances a look at Cas again, and there’s a smile there now - full-blown, with the eye crinkles and the everything, and Sam’s insides flutter a little. Butterflies, or something pretending to be them. “People like it when — when other people do that.”

“I think the other people like it too.” Cas says simply. As if Sam’s senses had needed a further push away from coherence.

“Oh.”

Cas smiles again, it’s smaller this time. (God, Cas.)

“I mean, I —” Sam stammers. “I see.”

There’s a moment of silence - or even perhaps two, with Sam staring nervously, excitedly, awkwardly at the bedsheet, and Cas looking — god knows where, but it’s not at his damn animations, and it feels a lot like it’s at Sam, though he has no idea what to do with that.

At the end of it, Cas clears his throat.

“You still need sleep.”

“I just woke up,” Sam argues.

“Sam, I know how long you were asleep. I was there.” Sam flushes at his words. "Trust me, you need more.”

Sam can’t believe he’s actually considering it - but then, he can’t believe most of what’s happening right now, so figures, he reasons - but he finds himself asking, “What about you?”

“I don't need any.” Cas returns, tilting his head.

“I know that.” Sam’s eyes flit to Cas’s again. They twinkle back at him — so, so blue. “I meant, what about you now?”

“Well,” Cas’s eyes crinkle again, and something pulls in Sam’s heart. “If you don't mind, I think I’d like both of us to return to what we were doing.”

“Cas,” Sam says, soft, and that’s all the words he can think of.

And all the words he was looking for.

“I enjoy reading these, and you,” Cas goes on, his eyes back on the magazine, and they stay there for the rest of his sentence. “You have really soft hair.”

And maybe Sam imagines it, but his cheeks are a little pink again.

So Sam bows his head again and laughs, laughs till Cas joins in with that smile of his, and he scoots on the bed until he can be pressed up by Cas's side, their legs sprawled out in front of them, and Cas can resume whatever the hell he was doing that felt so friggin' good when Sam was asleep, and it’s adorable, and it's ridiculous, and it feels exactly like the kind of thing you remember forever.

#sam later finds out it was actually seven am when he got up and cas just wanted him to get eight hours for once #he pretends to be offended at being lied to for about ten minutes #before realizing non-sleepdeprived people aren't quite as cranky #<3 #sastiel #samcas #sassy #sastiel fanfic #sam winchester #castiel #sam winchester fluff #cas fluff #oh writing my writing

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baubaes · 3 years

Note

hi! is there a chance for Jemily with no22? some angst maybe? cheers🤗

Well hello to you to! And of course there is!

@thatonecurlygirl prompt list 22

“I can’t give you what you want.”

Ship: Emily Prentiss x Jennifer Jareau

Word count: 5,4k

Genre: angst/hurt/fluff/very very light nsfw? i have no clue how to label this

Warnings: mentions of violence, death, injuries, classic criminal minds vibes :^)))

Summary: "Right now, Emily Prentiss was dead. She, however, was on a plane to Paris." aka JJ taking care of staked Emily, the blackbird flashback and events around it.

A/N: i thought of way too many scenarios when even though Emily and JJ are literally in love, it could never work out. here's one of them :^) i hope you'll enjoy it!! xx ana apparently i just can't imagine a scenario in which these characters could have a peaceful, quiet and happy life, im so sorry

Emily felt drained.

She was all hurting, really bad, her head was killing her, not only from the beating she received those several days ago, but also the mere stress of all this.

It was pretty baffling for her to realize that she survived this whole ordeal.

She couldn’t say for how long she was out; it felt both like a blink of an eye and an eternity.

And she really thought that she died, when she eventually lost consciousness in Morgan’s arms. That still felt like ages ago.

It was all really confusing, but then again, she couldn’t spare too much of her strength to dwell on what actually happened. Emily just felt too weak to try to keep her eyes open for too long and that resulted in her reality being pretty much scattered.

When she woke up in a hospital room, she was dazed and overwhelmed. They’ve put her on some strong painkillers after the surgery and most of the time right then felt like a blur. She thought she heard some voices in her dream, maybe doctors, maybe… Was it JJ?

She heard bits and pieces of conversations, somebody commenting on her condition in a low voice, nervous footsteps circling around the room, the dimmed rhythmical sounds of all the equipment she was hooked to, some sort of buzzing and a one sided conversation that had to be a phone call.

Was it just some bizarre dream?

A way for her subconscious mind to cope with the anxiety surrounding the recent events?

Whether it was real or not, it let her stay in this state of slumber brought to her through an IV drip.

Despite all that, she felt really grateful. She wasn’t sure where to channel this gratitude though;

Her team for backing her up?

The doctors for patching her up in the OR?

God, for allowing her to continue her existence?

Then again, she wasn’t sure if the last one existed, nor that the almighty entity would waste its time on making sure little old her survives.

It was comforting though, that her last moments on this Earth managed not to be spent with Doyle, even if that was against her will, so in theory, she didn’t have much of control over this.

Memories of him were a combination of ones that she’s made as Emily Prentiss and ones that she’s made as Lauren Reynolds. As Emily, it consisted of all those moments when he threatened her and her team, he kidnapped her, tortured her, nearly killed her…

As Lauren she was able to saw his more… Humane side.

Lauren was his girlfriend. Lauren lived with him,

Lauren shared her joys and fears with him. Lauren loved him.

But that was Lauren.

She wasn’t real. An identity, that’s all that she was.

And even though Emily tried to convince herself that Lauren’s feelings were perfectly compartmentalized away from her own, deep down she knew she was lying to herself.

Was Doyle ever somebody she actually loved?

She definitely despised him, but it felt like now she was obligated to despise even her own self for ever having feelings for this monster. Positive ones anyway.

Right now, Emily Prentiss was dead.

She, however, was on a plane to Paris.

It was all coordinated by Hotchner and JJ.

Nobody else knew.

Her team, her friends, her loved ones were about to attend her funeral in a few days.

She imagined confused look on Spencer’s face, Garcia’s eyes filled with tears, Morgan frowning and looking away. Would Rossi be sad, or would he finally feel relieved to be ridded of her impulsiveness and comments on literally everything?

She imagined her mother, who obviously was not on it, throwing a pile of soil on the coffin. That would not hold her body inside. Would she cry? Would she stay composed even at a funeral of her only child? Well, again, it wasn’t real real, but she wouldn’t be able to realize that.

For some reason, she figured JJ would’ve taken it upon herself to feel guilty, despite knowing what was going on.

They both knew it was the only way to make it all work.

Emily worried about everyone, but there were two people she worried about the most. Spencer and Penelope.

They both were incredibly strong, but she couldn’t be sure how would they deal with this.

She worried, since Reid did not cope well with losing authorities. And even if he would never admit it to her face, she knew that he looked up to her.

The thought of that made her feel the bile appear on the back of her throat.

That kid has lost so many people already… And he internalized all that, it had to be weighing on him every single day. It felt cruel to add another person to that list.

She had to keep thinking about the bigger picture to even remotely be able to deal with all that.

Now Garcia was somebody that Emily truly loved.

It was hard to imagine her being sad over her „death”.

Not because of the probability of the blonde being sad,

rather the severity of her grieving, Emily would imagine.

Penelope was one of those people who were able to feel so much, maybe even too much sometimes.

And on a daily basis it was wonderful. That’s what’s made her such an incredible, empathetic human being, who, despite their job, was still able to not only - be cheerful, but to cheer others up as well.

When she thought of that, it felt as if her heart could break to million pieces.

It was strange, how in that moment she should still feel the pain;

They’ve stabilized her after the surgery, but there were still bruises on her face, stitches across her abdomen, burnt skin on her chest. And she did feel it, but it was blurred, far away.

The feeling that made her grasp reality to the point of hyperawareness was the emotional pain.

Somehow she was able to compare it to the pain of being staked.

She still wasn’t sure what was a proper emotional response in that situation.

It wasn’t in the manual, or in training, despite people having to go… Well, faking your own death was like going undercover, in a way.

Both at the Interpol and the FBI, nobody taught her how to feel, while pretending to be dead.

She knew how to make it happen technically, more or less. After all, Lauren had already died. Her old team, JTF-12, was able to pull that off those several years ago. Including her of course.

But that was Lauren. An identity, which, sure, she’s been tied to for quite some time, living as her, acting like her, becoming her in a way.

Still, just an identity.

Right now, there wasn’t a disguise, an identity to toss away, allowing her to come back to her regular life.

Right now her regular life was supposed to cease to exist.

Before, she thought about her goal and the fact, that she survived. She was grateful, in some way she felt obligated to take care of Declan and she wouldn't be able to do that, if she was actually dead, right?

Even though she knew that she had no right to feel attached to the boy as much as she did, she just couldn’t help it. The image of him as a toddler, walking around the room in Doyle’s house stuck in her head. She couldn’t shake it off. And even before Doyle found her, that image caused her to have problems with falling asleep from time to time.

Emily never seriously thought of herself becoming a mother, for that role to be the main purpose of her life. She was afraid of screwing her potential children up, because she knew that even if she meant well, it wouldn’t guarantee them turning out okay. And her line of work made it impossible to both realistically approach the idea of maternity - she didn’t have a partner and if she were to be a single mother - it would be impossible to keep up with the BAU - that job was just too demanding; but also she saw so many downright evil, just unimaginable things that people were capable of doing to one another. How could she ever be able to shield a child from that?

Suddenly, all these ridiculous, small things that she wouldn’t think twice about made her feel as if each and every part of her life was just slipping through her fingers, right there, right then.

That one window in her apartment, the one with the wide windowsill, she loved to sit on it and watch the sky. Sergio would curl up in her lap or right next to her, on the windowsill, quietly purring, when she would pet his black fur. It didn’t happen often, because most nights she'd come home so exhausted, all she could basically do was just pass out on her bed. And Sergio would sleep on a pillow right next to her, despite Emily's promises to herself that she will teach him to stop, because she'd wake up covered in his fur with a runny nose.

But when she had a chance to do that, it made her mind stop racing, at least for a few minutes. That barely ever happened anywhere else.

Now she realized that Sergio was alone in her apartment and she panicked. But just for a second, because then she remembered JJ in the hospital, telling her that Penelope took him in. Of course she did. He'd definitely be surrounded with love. She wished she could've just taken him with her though, since she's already been missing him. Silly little fur ball, making her fall in love with him gradually. Penelope wouldn't be able to resist his charm for sure, she thought to herself, smiling. Still, she felt really sad.

Emily realized that she’s left so many things behind.

She didn’t think of herself as someone intensively attached to material possessions, but all these had a sentimental value for her and that was the only thing that mattered.

The thoughts invading her head were random, coming to her without any particular sense or order, falling on her mind like an avalanche.

And she thought about that crumpled up picture, capturing her with her friends when she was a teenager, back in Rome.

A cross, that her mother gave her on her first communion. She wasn’t ever really wearing it, but she liked knowing that it was safely tucked away in one of the drawers in her closet. It brought her some strange kind of comfort.

A box with letters she’d exchange with her father when she was a kid, because even though they moved around together as a family, he still would have assignments all around the world. So he would leave for a single weekend, or for several months at a time. No matter how long or short was he leaving for, he’d always try and send her a postcard, hence the collection of them, both from huge cities in Europe and Asia and tiny places she’s never even heard of before in America or Australia.

Maybe she wasn’t going through this box ritually on some settled schedule, but every once in a while she would look at those tacky pictures of touristy little towns, as well as simple, beautiful pictures of great historical monuments or watercolored landscapes of picturesque countrysides. And they'd make the corners of her lips rise up just a tiny bit.

All that with a couple words reading simple greetings, scribbled in a hurry, in her dad’s small, not exactly neat handwriting, on the back of each and every one of them.

„Love you, Dad” summed up every single message.

And looking at those words made her feel warmth, both now and when she was a little girl. Her father wasn’t very talkative and he rarely told her he loved her unprompted. So she got used to reading these words, instead of hearing them from him.

She cherished these postcards and anytime she’d go through them, she noticed some kind of feeling spread throughout her body, that felt like pure joy, but also love and safety.

Kurt Vonnegut’s "Sirens of Titan".

Morgan lent it to her a few months ago.

The book was by her bed, bookmarked with some crumpled receipt for groceries she’d found at the bottom of her purse, when she'd had to suddenly break away from Rumfoord and Kazak on the jet.

She’s read it before, truth be told, (in Italian and back in the ’80s), but Morgan insisted that she just had to read the original version. And even though there was a stack of books she wanted to read going back at least two years sitting on her bedroom floor, dangerously leaning against the radiator, the day she brought it home, she placed the Sirens on the very top of her bedside table, instead of the stack.

She’d imagine Morgan would appreciate that gesture.

Morgan, her partner.

Morgan, who held her before she passed out.

Morgan, who always had her back.

And she tried to do the same for him in the field.

He’s saved her ass countless times.

Emily wished she could have had his back right now.

She realized with a paralyzing fear that it could last forever.

Doyle could lay low, undetected for years.

Would it keep Morgan up at night?

Would he blame himself, wondering?

If he'd gotten to her seconds earlier, if he had only ran faster, if he’d found her sooner, would it change anything?

Thinking about that made her fists clench suddenly.

If she had any fingernails left, they would surely dig into the skin of her palms very painfully right now.

Emily felt this overwhelming guilt filling her chest, making her throat feel as if it was closing, her teeth grit.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, as if the jet’s cabin had become decompressed and she couldn't reach the oxygen mask.

"You’re doing okay?"

She heard the soft and calming voice of her only companion on this flight, naturally besides the pilot.

JJ was looking at her with those big, worried, blue eyes and even though Emily’s first instinct was to nod, as she did just that, she felt her eyes watering.

"I can't stand the thought of all of them grieving over a lie."

She mumbled out.

"Emily, you know that this is the only way. We’d never make them go through this, if there were any other options. They will understand."

JJ’s voice became more firm with the last sentence, she was obviously in a mind space reserved for dealing with crisis.

"I really thought that was it, you know?"

Emily asked, a little startled at the sound of her own voice.

She couldn’t recall the last time she’s held an actual conversation with another person, one that wouldn’t consist of barely understandable mumbling as a form of communication on her end.

"There came that point, where the pain went away, I guess I went into shock. I heard Morgan’s voice and I wanted to keep my eyes open like he told me to so bad, but I just couldn’t. I felt like I was slipping away and it felt so… Easy. I wasn’t scared at all. I… I knew you guys would take care of Declan, if I wasn’t around. And that all of you would be okay."

She said, trying to piece together everything that happened.

"And apparently I've coded in the ambulance? I had no idea, but some glimpses are coming back to me, slowly. But it was like I’d fallen asleep."

She added, her face reflecting her mind in a state of deep contemplation.

Her thoughts were interrupted by JJ’s voice.

"Thank God, you didn’t…"

Emily only now noticed that with every word that she spoke, JJ’s eyes became more and more glossy. She frowned.

"Hey, I’m here."

She leaned in and smiled faintly.

"Its gonna take way more than some branding and a little stake for you to get rid of me."

JJ laughed, wiping the tears away, before they had a chance to flow down her cheeks.

"Why would I ever want to get rid of you?"

Blonde asked, her voice now soft, her expression puzzled.

Emily felt something strange in her chest.

At first her brain assumed it had to be her burnt skin and damaged nerve endings, but no.

It felt nice, it wasn’t painful.

That warmth, spilling around her insides.

She didn’t have a witty comeback to her question. She wanted to think it was because of the meds making her hazy, but she wasn’t sure anymore. She just looked down at her chest and frowned again.

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

"The first thing I’m doing, when we get to Paris is having this removed."

She heard her own voice.

"How could a brand hurt more than getting staked?"

"Maybe it’s a psychosomatic itch you’re scratching? The brand left an emotional toll, Doyle established dominance over you by marking you as his, a stake… I mean you overcame death. The ultimate victory over your foe. Why suffer a pain you’re proud of?"

JJ wondered, actually trying to analyze all that. She looked at her, now amused.

"Or you could always get another tattoo."

Emily laughed at that. JJ continued.

"You know, something transformative? Like a… A phoenix. Or a blackbird."

"I love the song."

Emily said.

"But something tells me, I shouldn’t tread in your waters."

JJ looked at her with a questioning look.

"Come on, JJ. Something’s obviously different about you. You commandeered an Interpol jet. You’re profiling me."

JJ looked down and sighed. Emily continued.

"Why didn’t you say your transfer was a backstop?"

At that JJ’s expression turned to a confused one, indicating that what the other woman said was the truth.

"Oh, I know that look. The 'I can’t trust anyone, but myself' look. I invented it."

Emily added, trying to make it sound funny, but ultimately, it still came out serious, because it was true. JJ smiled at her slightly, but she looked sad.

"Do you ever feel like you’re in way over your head?" Emily nodded, wanting her to continue.

"I got assigned to an information hunt. Instead, I am chasing an unsub, who killed my informant."

"What would Hotch tell you to do?" Emily asked without hesitation. That’s how she found her way around during any investigation, ever since she joined the BAU.

"Focus on victimology, let behavior lead the way…"

JJ listed out loud.

"Exactly. Who did your unsub kill?"

"The one person I was getting through to."

"Why?"

Emily continued with her questions, seeing that they initiated JJ’s thought process.

"Because I was getting through to…" JJ said, frowning.

"I was getting through to her. What if she was about to expose her killer? Someone on the inside…"

Emily could tell that JJ needed somebody else to look at her situation and see it in from a different angle. JJ got really pensive, her eyes glued to some nonexistent point in space.

"It sounds like it's time for you to be the blackbird and flip the script." Emily said slowly.

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

"I guess it does." JJ said with a tiny smile, before getting up.

"Hey, why won’t you try and sleep at least a while? We won’t be landing for several hours, so…"

"Right. You should try and sleep too. I’ve been in a coma, so I caught some Zs, when you think about it. Medically induced ones, but still. You on the other hand must be exhausted."

Emily’s face was covered in grey, purple and yellow spots, but JJ’s face, even though not bruised, still indicated that she had a rough couple of days. She had bags under her eyes, her cheeks pale, instead of slightly flushed like they normally were, her face tired.

They both looked quite miserable.

JJ just smiled in response, but her eyes weren’t a part of that smile. Her eyes stayed sad.

She walked to another seat, so she could try and lie down.

Emily wanted to let JJ rest, because she suspected that by suggesting sleeping, she actually had an excuse to take a nap herself, even if it was supposed to last only few minutes. She deserved a good night sleep, Emily thought to herself, watching the blonde struggling to find a comfortable position. When she eventually succeeded, Prentiss leaned back in her own seat, looking out the window. Her chest was still burning, but she wouldn’t even flinch. Her eyes, almost independently from her will, landed on the other woman every couple of minutes. She watched JJ’s chest move rhythmically, until her breathing became really deep and really steady and she was without a doubt asleep.

She knows what’s happening,

Emily thought to herself.

And so does Hotchner.

Yet, they’re going to have to look at the rest being in pain and they’re going to have to pretend that they’re going through the same thing.

And when she thought about Hotch, it wasn’t that hard to imagine.

He would keep himself perfectly composed in pretty much any situation she ever saw him in.

He was able to calculate his next move without showing as much as a microexpression.

It could be a little unsettling sometimes, but then again when he was surrounded by his family, when he was with Jack, he would expose this softer and loving side of himself. Just a bit. It was quite the view.

Emily had no doubt that he was a good father. And a good man.

He really was great at planning, thinking ahead like no one else;

he had his way of smoothly dealing with issues that inevitably came up during their investigations.

All those things made him an incredible section chief.

Emily was certain that she could trust him with her life. And she did.

It would be hard for anyone to keep such a burdening secret from people you are constantly around.

Eventually, you could start believing the lie, but that also took dedication. It was even harder when you had to lie to people that were actually a part of your life, people that you were close to.

It’s one thing to be undercover and to keep a secret from people you’re trying to infiltrate. During such operations it felt justified to do that, choosing the lesser evil, the end justify the means and all that.

It’s a completely different thing to do that to your friends and family.

"The secret to getting away with lying is believing with all your heart. That goes for lying to yourself even more so than lying to another."

A quote by the author Elizabeth Bear, that she's memorized from reading her New Amsterdam series more than once. She was repeating it in her mind, not being able to stop.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in. She knew that they made the right call. Still, it was just devastating, thinking what they voluntarily sentenced themselves to.

She tried to calm herself down with proper breathing. It helped.

Emily finally decided to try to sleep. She thought that since she was still medicated, she’d pass out easily, but that didn’t happen.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw faces of her team members. She felt like her chest was being crushed. Breathing didn't really help.

After what felt like forever of forcing herself to fall asleep without any luck, she opened her eyes and just kept them open. She focused her gaze on what was behind the window.

The clouds, barely visible in the navy skies.

She didn’t do it on purpose, but she realized that she started to dissociate.

And she let herself do it.

The numbness felt better than the stinging guilt.

She didn’t really register it, but tears left her eyes, falling on her lashes and cheeks, as her deep, dark eyes focused on the navy color in front of her, forty thousand feet above the ground.

She couldn’t tell how long it took, but only JJ’s turning in her sleep, simultaneously throwing a bag off the seat made Emily come back to reality. Blonde didn’t wake up. She looked really peaceful.

She thought about not seeing her for God knows how long. It stung, to a point of her gasping. Afraid, that maybe that could’ve woken her up, Emily wiped her tears away, but JJ’s eyes stayed closed. And these intrusive thoughts came back to roam inside her head.

Sure, JJ wouldn’t be with the BAU now, since she’s had that informant operation, but no doubt, she would still see them. They were a huge part of her life after all.

Emily watched her face, calm and soft, imaging it twisted in pain and grief, having to pretend one of their own was dead.

In her mind, JJ was one of the strongest people she knew. She was persistent, hardworking and incredibly professional, but she was also kind, nurturing and very loyal.

What she was doing for her at this very moment proved it perfectly.

She knew that JJ accepted her part in this plan on her own and if she were to start trying to talk her out of it (never mind that it was also too late for that at this point), she wouldn’t change her mind. To be fair, if they switched places, she would do the same for JJ, but still, she couldn’t stop worrying about the woman sleeping on a seat across from her.

Emily watched her friend and it brought her some sort of comfort, a feeling of safety.

She finally dozed off, trying not to think, but focused on JJ’s steady breathing instead.

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

"Emily, we’ll be landing in about an hour."

She heard, opening her eyes, and she saw JJ standing in front of her, one of her hands on her shoulder.

"I thought you’d like to change before the transfer."

Emily’s hand landed on top of hers, holding both of them on her shoulder.

"Oh, right. Thank you, I…" she looked down at their hands, trying to focus. "We’ll have to say goodbye soon, right?" she blurted out, looking back at her face.

JJ sighed and sat down right next to her, not taking her hand away, but instead, intertwining their fingers and resting both their hands in Emily’s lap.

"Well, it seems so."

She smiled, but her eyes were reddened, filling with tears once again.

Emily’s gaze was glued to their hands, watching JJ’s wrist and fingers, so delicate right now, but perfectly capable of throwing a good punch. Her eyes stopped at the ring on her finger; Henry’s birthstone. She felt that strange feeling again, that warmth spreading throughout her body.

"It’s not going to last forever. We will find Doyle."

JJ mumbled out and Emily held her breath.

"I know, but… I will miss you so much."

Emily said, before instinctually putting her arms around blonde’s waist, to which she responded with wrapping her arms around her neck. JJ tried to be gentle, because of Emily’s condition, but brunette only held her tighter.

They were so close right now, that she could hear the other woman’s heartbeat. It was slightly elevated.

JJ pulled back just a little, so she could look at her face.

"I will miss you as well." she whispered, their eyes laid on each other.

JJ said the next sentence so quietly, that Emily could barely hear it.

"You’re very special to me, you know that?"

Emily wouldn’t be able to logically explain why she did what she did next, but somehow her hands ended up on both sides of JJ’s face and she leaned in, placing her lips on blonde’s ones.

She wasn’t thinking, but as she kissed her, the other woman immediately kissed her back. Emily felt soft palms cupping her face, her eyes closed. That kiss was filled with so much pain and longing and some kind of desperation.

But it made her whole body fill up with that warmth.

Emily wasn’t even sure what that was, so she tried to be gentle. She ended up kissing JJ in a somewhat shy manner, yet the other agent was deepening the kiss with each second, making it more and more passionate. Emily felt her back hitting the wall and a moan left her throat, captured by the kiss. JJ reacted by slowing down, moving her fingers across her face, running them through her hair. Emily was still cupping JJ’s face, her skin felt so soft and warm under her fingers when she brushed them across her cheeks. Their tongues slowly swirling around one another, this time Emily caused JJ to gasp, as she bit her lower lip. She responded with kissing brunette even more eagerly, so Emily brushed her fingers along her neck, resting them on her shoulders. One of her hands was caressing the skin covering JJ’s collarbone. At that she sighed, barely audibly, but Emily caught it. Her fingers moved towards the skin covering her breastbone.

JJ suddenly pulled back and broke the kiss, leaving both of them breathing heavily, blood flowing through their cheeks and lips.

Emily placed her hands back on JJ’s shoulders, she didn’t mean to make her feel uncomfortable.

Finally, after what felt like forever, she broke the silence.

"JJ, I…" she didn’t even know what to say. It wasn’t right. She had a loving husband, a family. She didn’t mean to ruin it for her.

"We don’t have to talk about this." she said quickly and Emily felt strange. She took her hands off of her shoulders and leaned back, so there was space between them.

"I… Dont… Look, if we won’t see each other for…"

She started, but her voice broke, when she realized what expression showed up on JJ’s face.

Regret.

Emily felt so many contradicting things in that moment, that she basically froze. JJ was looking away.

"You went through something traumatic, we all did. It’s only natural to crave human contact then. And it can present itself in many different ways. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s fine."

"JJ, it means… It means everything for me."

Emily choked out, placing her hand on top of blonde’s. JJ turned her hand, so she could squeeze Emily’s one between her fingers.

She smiled looking at their hands, but only for a fraction of a second. And then she took her hand away, only to look Emily straight in her eyes. She seemed sad, but also… Agitated.

"I can’t give you what you want, Emily." she said quickly, getting up.

"There’s too many reasons why. And… You have to leave."

JJ stated, sort of matter-of-factly.

Emily couldn’t really comprehend what just happened. But all of the pain, both physical and mental suddenly came back, not dimmed anymore.

This was… This wasn’t the time for this. Come on, Emily, it’s time to compartmentalize again. You used to be so good at this!

Well, before joining the team anyway.

"We’re landing in 15. You have to change, definitely cover up these bruises at least a bit." JJ continued talking, her voice morphing back to that task-oriented tone. She was taking clothes and makeup out of the bags, handing the items to her. "Hurry."

Emily felt like she couldn’t move, but she forced herself to get up and do what she needed to. They weren’t looking at each other and even though she wanted to scream, she kept perfectly quiet.

Compartmentalize. It’s not the time. It didn’t mean anything.

They landed and after JJ made sure that the right person was waiting outside to drive Emily to a safehouse, she stood in front of her and hugged her. Emily wasn’t really expecting that right now, since the atmosphere was so tense.

"I will miss you, no matter what." JJ whispered and even though Emily was so stunned from the pain and all around confused, she knew they couldn’t part without a proper goodbye.

"Thank you, for everything. Take care of them." Emily said and she embraced her tightly, one last time. Emily wanted to say that she’ll miss her like crazy, but it felt both like too much and not enough.

She didn’t want to let them turn this into a final goodbye.

"Of course. I will see you soon, okay?" JJ smiled and Emily smiled back. It wasn’t the best forced smile, but she just couldn’t do better in that moment.

"Goodbye, Jennifer." she said sounding way too official, taking a first step out.

"Goodbye, Emily."

Prentiss turned away and quickly made her way to the parked car.

She saw JJ’s face one last time through the tiny window.

The car left the landing strip and disappeared in the night.

„Goodbye, Emily.” she thought to herself, as she caught her own reflection in the side mirror.

„Goodbye, Emily.”

JJ whispered, placing a red rose on the coffin.

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hepaidattention · 3 years

Text

look all I'm saying is........

Scott had his brow furrowed, his arms folded tightly over his chest, and his eyes shooting daggers into the new piece of evidence Liam held in his hands.

"So?" Liam asked him, his tone impatient. However, it wasn't frustration or anger, but worry and fear that coated his words.

"I'm at a loss, Liam. I- we can't do this on our own anymore. We need help. We.... I can't believe I'm saying this but we need our pack."

Liam rolled his eyes, shoving the piece of evidence back into his jacket pocket. "Well duh. No offense Scott but that was pretty obvious by the first week."

Scott's one quizzical brow tweaked up on his forehead, the other one staying low with his eye. "It was?"

Liam scoffed, shaking his head at his alpha in disbelief. "Uh yeah, it was. Don't worry about it, I already called in back up. They should be here by the hour."

Scott's arms unfolded around his chest and his hands fell to the counter of the animal clinic. His brows were low, his fingers sprawled out on the counter top and his mind racing. "You called Theo and Mason in for help?"

Liam face winced, his shoulders scrunching up to his ears as he said, "Well, not exactly. I called who I knew, if anyone, they could figure out this bizarre mystery way before us or the cops could."

The corners of Scott's mouth started to turn up, his eyes bright and wide now. He was looking out the window, the sight of an old beat up baby blue jeep trudging its way to a parking spot of the clinic. "No way - how did you-?" Scott was grinning now.

Liam shrugged again, poorly hiding away his beaming face in return. "I thought I might've had to do a lot of begging, and a lot of bugging. Turns out, they've been itching to-"

Before Liam could finish his sentence, the jeep was parked and Scott was rushing out the door. The doors of the jeep swung open in unison and Scott laughed out of pure joy at the sight of his best friend jumping out of the driver door.

Stiles Stilinski himself was grinning from ear to ear at Scott as he said, "Oh hey, sorry to sound so weird but uh- is this the clinic of a Dr. Scott McCall?"

Scott just ran to him, practically knocking him over with a huge, full force embrace. Stiles hugged him back just as big and just as enthusiastically. There was clapping of backs and laughing and the unspoken tears of a long needed reunion.

It wasn't until a distinct voice made a sound he knew all too well, like they were clearing their throat but it was purely the intention to gain attention from someone annoyingly ignoring them. Scott pulled back from Stiles to see Lydia Martin standing there, finger ticking on her bicep and her eyes narrowed and scrutinizing.

"Oh my god, Lyds!" Scott was hugging her now just as warmly. "God I've missed you guys."

"Well, lucky for you," Stiles clapped Scott's shoulder and gave him an oddly specific look. "We're your new friendly neighborhood... neighbors." He winked, and he should have known that that face was one prepping for a wink.

Scott's expression scrunched up, confusion written all over it. "Wait wait, Liam said he called you guys in for help - he didn't say anything about-"

"We've decided to move back to Beacon Hills." Lydia said calmly, like a professional woman with the ability to maintain emotions on a professional level.

He looked at Stiles, and Stiles looked like he might throw up. "God knows why." He got a glare from Lydia, which made Stiles finish with, "No offense, buddy. If it wasn't Beacon Hills I would've moved back here years ago for you."

"You guys are serious?" Scott looked at the two, searching their faces for any sign of a lie. He knew it was silly, but last time he asked Stiles about moving back here he got an hour long speech about the amount of money he owes to therapy and how his therapist doesn't even know about the whole him dying twice part. After he realized they were 100% serious, he simply asked: "Why?"

Stiles just laughed, and Lydia explained that she was getting banshee visions about Beacon Hills. She and Stiles were needed here, it was literally calling to her, and Stiles' dad was retiring and asked Stiles if he ever wanted to take his place as a joke. But Stiles realized he actually wanted to. So, here they were.

"Surprise." Stiles waved his hands unenthused and smirked at him. "Happy birthday."

Scott frowned, "It's not my birthday."

"No, but it was." He said with complete confidence.

"Like six months ago. Stiles you literally called me that day, the first thing you told me was how you hadn't got me anything yet."

"And here we are, six months later with the best birthday present of all." Stiles gestured around and then back at Scott. "Me. Here. Best friends and brothers back to take on the world together again!"

Lydia looked at the two idiots and rolled her eyes, however she was still smiling. "Okay, well while you two take on the world together, I'm going to go see this new piece of a clue Liam went on about over the phone."

"You're not gonna like it." Scott sighed deeply, his shoulders sinking in a little. They made their way into the clinic anyway, said their hellos to Liam again, and now they all stood staring down at the piece of metal Liam picked from his pocket and placed at the center of the counter.

Lydia hardly blinked, instead she stared at it with a vengence as she twirled her engagement ring around and around her ring finger.

Stiles on the other hand blinked rapidly, his hands going from his hips to his hair to his face, all the way back to propping up on his hips in a thinking stance.

Scott looked at the two, and after studying their reactions and sensing their emotions he asked, "So?"

"That's," Stiles was pointing now, his eyes wide. "Am I right to think that that's-?"

"Allison's arrow head." Lydia finished for him.

Stiles groaned, taking a step back to say, "This welcome back party sucks."

"Lydia," Scott leaned in some, his brow low again. "Did you know?"

"Know what? That Allison Argent might be back from the dead?" She crossed her arms indignantly and sighed. "I had my suspicions that something big was happening. This, however, was not something I ever thought possible. I can sense when someone's about to die - not when they come back from the dead."

Liam spoke up to say, "Evidence is pointing to her for everything so far. It doesn't make any sense. The cops are calling it staged, DNA found at the scenes, finger prints."

"Whoa whoa, let's rewind a little." Stiles said, rolling his fingers in a gesture of backing up. "Let's pretend for a moment here that Allison Argent coming back from the dead is not a shit ton of weird as it is, alright? What do you mean about everything so far?"

Stiles was chewing at his thumb nail as he announced, "Fuck I hate this town."

"Well, all the missing people cases, and the werewolf massacres." Liam said it so casually, Stiles had to fully process what he said as bad.

"This arrow head is an exact replica of Allison's," Scott stated, all of them staring at it like it was a ghost. "She was the only one to ever make them like this - her dad said it himself. These are custom made Argent arrows."

"What can I say?" Scott met their eyes and tried to force a smile at the two people who really mean so, so much to him. He really truly was glad they were back. "Welcome home."

#teen wolf movie #but like stydia comimg back to beacon hills #and scott trying not to cry over it because god he missed his friends #i know no one asked for it but its like 3 am and i can't aleep so #teen wolf fic #kinda #i just want a sciles reunion #and i really want Allison back from the dead

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caesthetix · 3 years

Text

A LITTLE FEAR — Ep. Prime Real Estate

↪Jean Kirstein mini-series

↪content; canon universe, description of violence, season 4 spoiler, forbidden love, marleyan!reader, scouts!jean, chapter 139 spoiler

You stopped whatever you were doing in an instant, both hands freezing midair as a flock of birds suddenly landed beside you. That was strange, you never saw this type of bird flying around your house before. Those birds had silky white feathers and beady black eyes, some had their gaze fixated on you.

But then again, perhaps you shouldn't have been surprised that you never saw them before.

It was not like you have been living here for years, no. For the last three years, you were here as a new citizen in a world where the fear of titans finally gone. Everything was at peace for years as this newborn country strengthened its military — under the command of the Queen.

Yes, the Queen, Historia Reiss. Never once you ever thought you would be living here of all places in the world, tending flower beds and watering plants. A Marleyan like you, the mortal enemy of those Eldians somehow slipped inside the society and even lived inside the innermost part of the country.

You lived in prime real estate located in the countryside; a medium-sized house with huge land, different compared to those gigantic and majestic buildings in the downtown area. The atmosphere was unique and you preferred this kind of house instead of the luxurious, blinding one. For you, this is home, and you couldn't wait to share it with your lover.

"(Y/n)! Don't stay too long in the garden!"

A familiar shout rang through the open area, making you turn your head to face them. She stood there with her comfortable white dress, maroon-coloured apron draped in front of her figure to make sure that any specks of dirt didn't smear her dress while her brown hair sticking out from her tight ponytail.

"I will be there in a few minutes, Ma!"

You shouted back at the top of your lungs, knowing full well that her hearing was not as sharp as yours. She just shook her head in amusement at your answer since she could predict already that your few minutes could turn to an hour or even more. Just a habit of yours, though she wouldn't force you to stop since it took your mind off things.

Just as she did by cooking some omelette and comfort foods as she too — waiting for someone to come back.

She had a separate house near the Queen's residence, assigned there by her majesty herself. But ever since you knocked on her front door and introduced yourself to her, she decided that it would be better if she lived with you for a while, at least until her son came back. Until your love came back to your arms once again.

There were letters after letters being shared despite how out of reach he was from you. You lived every day in hope that his mission to make peace with the outside world resulted in success. Lots of prayers have been sung to whatever deity existed in this world, never once stopped for every day you woke up.

And today was just like any other day as you waited for him by occupying yourself with daily chores and a new hobby. You used to wake up to strategize the next move and train in the military, being a normal citizen was still a little bit bizarre for you.

Though you already told the Queen that if in case she needed assistance regarding the air force, you would be ready to be called.

Yet three years had passed ever since your arrival, and never once she called you to the military. You had a gut feeling that your lover might have something to do with it, so you could only hope he didn't try to pull any strings behind your back and become the reason why you were never once interrupted.

Well, it was not like you didn't want this. When you finally wake up without fear, without being afraid that you had to see another bloodshed, without being afraid to love whoever you wanted to love. This was the world that you have been dreaming of, so maybe, it's fine to just enjoy it as long as you can.

Your fingers used to be covered with blood, now only covered with dirt and soil. Sometimes you couldn't believe it yourself as you were afraid to go to sleep, not wanting to wake up and realise all of this was just a dream.

But it was not a dream.

It was all real — ever since that day.

Your whole body felt so numb as you stared into the distance, back leaning to the old building behind you, not understanding what actually unfurled in front of your eyes right now.

Everything was still replayed so vividly in your mind. His ash-brown strands dishevelled from the war he had been partaking of, chocolate orbs that filled with love and regret as he took another look at you, his voice — oh his deep, comforting voice that sung like a lullaby every time he spoke.

And then bright yellow light blinded your vision.

The impact of the explosion threw you off, back arching as your body hit a concrete wall. Your vision blurred, your head pounding from the impact. But you could still see the gigantic feet right in front of you — gigantic feet that belong to a titan, replacing where your lover once stood.

You saw it, the long, familiar strands of hair that you loved to caress, those eyes that now turned into the darkest shade of brown stared at you with an emotion that you couldn't fathom. Then he jerked his head to the other side, jumping off the cliff with the other titans like a puppet whose strings were pulled.

There goes your love, that is what you already believe. Everyone knew about how once someone turned into a mindless titan, there was no way for them to change back as a human except if they ate the nine titan inheritor. And you didn't put any hope over that, just slumping your body and surrendering yourself to the situation.

You didn't know since when you drifted off somewhere as black filled your vision. But in your mind, you see him standing in front of you as he reaches out his hand for you to take. In your dream, you saw him playing around the backyard with a little kid that looked so familiar with him. In perhaps a distant future, you welcomed him home after a day full of hard work.

Then you opened up your eyes, disappointed as it was the same as what you saw before. The blistering heat attacked whoever was unfortunate enough to be outside right now, dealing with the monstrous creature as the fate of the world was in their hands.

But it was silent now, the roar of those mindless titans, booming footsteps that rumbling the ground, two enormous titans who fought each other before — it all stopped and gone as the only thing that welcomed you was a quiet, somewhat peaceful atmosphere.

With your legs still wobbling from the impact before, you looked around as you wondered what happened now. Finding no one in sight, not even from the Marleyan Military made you raise your eyebrows in confusion. Was it all done? The war between Eren Yeager and the alliance of Paradis and Marley? What happened now and where are they?

There were so many questions popping in your head as you forced yourself to check out the land near Fort Salta, finding some of your troops pointing all of their guns to the Eldians that somehow — turned back into a human.

That was the only thing you needed before you ran to where they were, ignoring the pain that surged your body for every movement that you made. You were fine, this couldn't stop you from knowing the truth, this would never stop you from reaching out to the Eldian, to someone that introduced you to what it felt like to love someone.

Surely the Marleyan was just bluffing, you knew that all of the guns were already shot towards the sky before. But there was a possibility that they had another, and you couldn't bear to see another bloodshed, not when you felt like there was no need to continue this war if the main enemy was already gone.

"If we did still have the power of the titans, wouldn't we be using it to resist you?" Ah, was it true? That titan power was already gone for good from this world? "But the fact that we continue to be powerless even as you point your guns at us is the greatest possible proof of our humanity."

He made sense, even as you stopped a few steps behind the Marleyan Military, you could hear the sincerity from his words. Yet somehow, your race still couldn't accept the fact, not daring to lower their gun just yet. You couldn't really blame them for doing so, knowing how much terror that they have seen just for the last couple of hours.

So you stood forward, dragging your feet as you ignored the surprised gasp from your troops.

"Everyone, drop your guns to the ground." You still couldn't hear any movement as you said so, and you clicked your tongue over that. "Now!"

Then one by one, you heard how the metal weapon fell to the ground like a symbol of peace. There were around twenty troops behind you, the survivors of the explosion before, the only people who lived from Marleyan Military after such a horrendous event. And they obeyed your command, believing in you that you would make the right choice.

You turned to look at your troops, giving them a reassuring gaze one by one that from now on, everything would be alright. Some of them were crying, some of them fell to the ground as they screamed out, out of frustration or relief for being alive, you couldn't differentiate it anymore, maybe a bit of both.

Your job was done, for now, so you had to know what happened. You needed to know who was the man who stood in front of you now as his ocean blue eyes gazing at you with respect and gratitude. He gave you a firm nod, and you followed after as you straightened your posture.

"Then, who are you?"

"I am Armin Arlert, an Eldian from the island of Paradis. The man who killed Eren Yeager, the attack titan."

The way he said it was absolute. Certainty was there and somehow you wanted to just let your sore body fall to the ground as relief started to fill your heart. But not yet, you had to be the commander of the air force unit, probably the only higher-ups left in the military here.

"Greetings then, Armin Arlert." You started, giving him a Marleyan salute as he answered it by balling his right hand into a fist, resting it right in front of his heart after that. "I am the commander of the air force unit of Marleyan Military, my troops and I would do anything we could do to assist everyone here."

For the next few hours, everyone who was healthy enough was assigned to take care of those who had injuries or any other casualties. You as the commander, trying to call and inform the military base in the capital. Solace flooded over you once again when you received the news that more than a half part of Marley was still intact.

You immediately called for backup, informing them to tell the whole world what happened in Fort Salta. This needed to be distributed now, that they didn't have to worry anymore, that the world was finally free from titans. You told them all the little details about those who fought in the battle, you told them that it was thanks to the Eldians themselves that the rumbling stopped.

"It's..." You trailed off as the chief on the other line asked you the name of the war that shook the world just now. "It's the battle of heaven and earth."

Today marked the three years of the world's victory against titans. Eldians finally freed from the curse and lived a normal life like humanity in the rest of the world. Though, of course, doubt and fear still lingered in the heart of the people. That was why those soldiers who directly fought with the attack titan became the ambassador of peace, travelling around the world to tell their stories.

They were the ones who lived, the heroes who chose to fight humanity who always treated their race like an insect. They were those who chose humanity over their own life, the ones who cast their feelings aside and killed their best friend because that was the right thing to do.

And your lover was one of them, he was an Eldian, a soldier who was ready to sacrifice his life in war.

Jean Kirstein, the man that you met in a bar back then in Marley, the only person who could make you feel so bare as he painted you with affection.

The person who you would wait a thousand years if you had to, so long so you could be together.

You subconsciously touched your left fingers, tracing your coarse skin as you absentmindedly remembered the reunion that you had with him. Not the one where he shouted at you to stay back, not the one where it filled with painful tears as you saw him transformed into a titan in front of your eyes.

But it was the one that made you feel so full. After calling the capital and making sure the Eldian would be treated fairly, you finally could take a breather and sit just outside the tower in Fort Salta. The sun slowly turned into an orange hue that time, your body was all aching as the adrenaline from before started to wear off.

You didn't turn your face away from the horizon as you felt someone sat beside you on the ground, not saying anything for the next couple of minutes as you and the mysterious figure just basked yourself on the peaceful atmosphere, something that was never there with how war and violence always filled the ground.

The orange hue slowly reddened as the sun hid behind the mountain, letting the moon take over with thousands of stars adorned the night sky.

There were no words being spoken as two bodies decided to scoot closer to each other as if there were strings that bound them together. You dropped your head on his shoulder, letting out a long sigh as the realisation finally sank in.

"I am back, (Y/n)." His voice was still filled with disbelief. "Just like what I promised you." But it sounds the same as how it used to, lingering with something that you knew as love.

You lifted your head a little, wanting to take a look at him and scrutinizing his face. He was here, Jean Kirstein in a flesh. He was not a titan anymore, he was just an Eldian from the island of Paradis, a normal human, just like you.

There was a dingling sound as he fetched something from his pocket, your eyes never left his as you felt a warm metal slipped on your palm. He closed your hand after that, wanting you to know that he was real, that he finally could give back the silver key that he brought with him ever since in Marley.

You felt like you wanted to burst at the moment. You wanted to cry, screaming at him for fighting the attack titan despite being a mere soldier who didn't even inherit the nine titans, you wanted to ask how he felt right now and what actually happened, there was so much that you wanted to say, so many words that you wanted to tell him.

But there would be a time for that, you were certain that you would have a lot of time after all of these were done.

So you just curled your lips into a smile, orbs glistening with tears as it shone with adoration, palm gripping the key a little tighter with his hand on top of yours.

"Welcome back, Jean."

You patted the excess of the dirt in your hand on your black apron, finally done repotting some of the plants. When your eyes fleeted to the side, you tilted your head in confusion as the bird from before was still there, so loyal as it accompanied you for the last hour.

This one was different compared to the others. The birds that you saw before only had one solid colour, but this one that stayed with you had brown feathers on some of their features.

The bird just looked at you with wonder, tilting their head to the side as they jumped from the flower bed and landed beside you. Your lips immediately shaped into a smile, wondering why the bird decided to stay with you when the others left already.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

You cooed at the bird, careful not to move your body too abruptly, afraid that they would fly again. Of course, you didn't expect them to chirp, but maybe you could talk to them a little. And you could write it down in the letter that you sent for Jean later on.

"I don't know why you are here, but don't you think you should go back though?"

Those beady black orbs fell upon your face as if they understood your words. "You must have a family, right? Perhaps maybe a lover?" So you decided to keep on talking, throwing some random questions, conversing with them like an old friend. "Bet your lover is so beautiful like you, and they must be waiting for you, you know?"

"Like you wait for me?"

Silence. On the first second, the bird was in front of you. But now, they flapped their wings and flew, leaving you there with both pupils widened as a familiar voice rang through your ear. You didn't understand why they suddenly left, but maybe, maybe it was because of the fact that you were not alone anymore.

That maybe because they knew your lover came back.

And so they would do the same and flew to where their lover was.

"Jean?"

No, he was not supposed to be here. From the letters that you got last week, he was supposed to be in Marley right now with the others. He told you that through the words that he scribbled down on the old paper, and you remembered how he would come back next month.

But of course, your eyes wouldn't deceive you, of course, your ear could never catch the exact voice that belonged to him if he was not really here.

He stood around five feet apart from you with a cheeky smile that made you want to just slap it away from his beautiful face. His ash-brown locks slightly got longer, looking neat despite the wind that swayed some strands of his hair, and you wondered how many times he combed his hair to make it look like that.

Though you didn't care about it, you didn't care about how he was here right now when you were certain he should have been somewhere else. You didn't care that you stumbled on some of the gardening tools as you ran towards him. You didn't care if your apron could leave some dirt on his expensive suit.

What you cared right now as your feet brought you closer to him — was to feel his embrace once more.

You jumped right into his arms, chin resting on his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his neck, not wanting to let go. Right now, you just wanted to shout and announce to the world that you wanted him for yourself, at least for just a few minutes, at least for a moment.

Everyone could call you selfish at this point you didn't care anymore. For all your life you never wanted anything but a world without fear. And now as you achieved it, the only matter that could complete it was to spend it all with the one that somehow had half of your heart anywhere he goes.

You have waited for him for far too long. You always waited for him afraid that he wouldn't come back to your apartment, you always waited for him with distress lingering at the back of your mind that he was not alive anymore when he was there on the other side of the sea.

But now as you felt the warmth within his touch, now as you felt his smile as his lips planted on the side of your face, you finally knew how it feels to live in a world without fear since from now on, you were free to love him.

He was too — free to love you as his real self, an Eldian, a war hero, Jean Kirstein from the island of Paradis.

"I am home."

And as the two bodies basked in the warmth of a loved one, hand intertwined that clashed a silver metal band next to each other, they both knew that from now on — they were going to wake up every single morning and live their dream.

In a world where there was no fear, spending it in prime real estate with a significant other.

Earning the right to live a happy life for hopefully, a long time.

"Welcome home, Jean."

↪Back to Wall Maria

↪Citizen; @yumaryko @may-machin @cuteissei

↪Send an ask if you want to be a citizen of Paradis (taglist)!

#Jean Kirschstein #jean kirschtien #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirschtein fluff #jean kirschtein fanfiction #aot imagines #aot x reader #AoT #snk #snk x reader #snk imagines

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squidproquoclarice · 3 years

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Yeehawgust Day 3: Caravan April 1889 Guthrie, Oklahoma Sadie could only look around Guthrie with awe. She and Jake had been here five days and it had sprung up like a crop of bizarre wildflowers, pale canvas of tents and covered wagons blowing gently in the spring breeze. As she looked east, she could see more wagons yet coming to join, a caravan that stretched damn near to the horizon with more new arrivals crowding in with the land race the day after tomorrow.The line at the land office, one of the few wooden buildings in town along with a general store and a saloon, held a serpentine line just as long, with men stretched around the block and then some waiting to register for their marker flag. She couldn’t help but be grateful she and Jake had gotten here early to register and avoided the worst of it.But that done, all there was to do now was wait. People couldn’t roam too far, else the Army would sternly shepherd them back into approved territory, or at worst, fire a warning shot. With so many people, the game had been scared off for miles, so hunting was hardly worth the while. That left idle time to do nothing but get acquainted with one’s neighbors in the tent city. It felt damn strange, given her entire nearly twenty-one years thus far had been spent working hard every day except Sundays, and even sometimes then when the situation called for it. Tumbleweed had started fading out too, so what chances there were for Sunday socials with neighbors had faded too. Being able to sit around and do nothing but jaw and play cards, pick idly at a guitar and try to teach herself to play it? It felt strange. But they’d done the right thing in leaving. They had. There was no future in Tumbleweed, and her mother had as much admitted it, and given Sadie and Jake her blessing to go seek their own fortunes, just as the Griffiths and Adlers had both done after the war going to New Austin from Pennsylvania. So here she was, now two months a wife, now looking at staking a place of her own, and she could see the land here looked so much richer than that in New Austin. It would be a good future. They would make it one. Glancing over at her neighbors, she could see that same look of confusion at idleness. Though Eliza and Arthur Morgan had a little boy to watch, so that kept them busy enough. Isaac was a sweet kid, though, for all he was a restless bundle of energy, and he was currently busy playing with the Morgans’ dog, Copper equally exuberant.Watching Isaac playing with Copper, laughing and full of boyish joy, she thought about the news she had for Jake, and how he’d take it. Another piece of their future, but for now she kept it as her own secret delight. She’d tell him the day after tomorrow, once they had their land. Once they could start to envision their home. Eliza glanced over at her. “I still don’t much know what to do with myself,” she confessed, her voice a soft twang she’d told Sadie came from the Tennessee hills. “All this waiting.”“Me neither. But we’re gonna be busier than we know what to do with in a couple of days, I figure.” All the business of putting up a homestead would begin. Arthur Morgan had come back last night with a gleeful smile and a wink, telling them that he’d found a perfect site for him and Eliza, and that there was an equally excellent lot next to it if the Adlers wanted to stay neighbors past this camp. She and Jake had readily agreed. The four of them had formed a tight-knight friendship even here in this camp, spending time together, often cooking dinner together, and all of it. But Arthur, for all he’d skirted the rules, scoffed at the idea of staking his claim too early. Nah, none of that. You got to win the race to that land fair and square. But knowing where it’s at? That’s just playing it smart.

She had to wonder exactly what kind of past a man who seemed to know nothing about farming but who could sneak past the Army like a shadow to scout out lots had. It didn’t matter, she supposed. They’d all come here for a clean start, hadn’t they? He seemed like a decent sort, and he obviously adored his son, and looked at his wife with damn near worship in his eyes. He and Jake had made fast friends already. Nothing wrong with turning the rules to advantage. They’d agreed that she’d be the rider and follow Arthur on horseback for a fast ride to the right spot, and Eliza and Jake would follow with their wagons. So they’d have a fine plot of land. They’d have friends and neighbors to rely upon. Their baby would have Isaac to play with as a friend. New dreams, shiny as a silver dollar. As she sat there in the spring sunshine, tipping her head back and smiling at the warmth of it, she had to think that life held all sorts of promise, and she was eager to drink deeply from that well.

#yeehawgust #sadie adler #jake adler #eliza mccready #arthur morgan #isaac morgan #rdr2 #jadie #elizarthur #writing #fic from the parking lot #that softer 'everyone lives' au in the oklahoma land rush

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jun-thorne · 3 years

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This story (oneshot) takes place after the events of the auction. Wanted to do this for a long time, finally got down to do it. If you have feedback, I would be glad! Criticism is also greatly appreciated (I want to improve after all).

Confusion

Even at 1am in the morning, Tokyo could not be considered as peaceful. The sound of cars and the chattering of passerbys filled the streets, creating a ubiquitous murmur. But to Seido Takizawa, this was one of the more peaceful moments.

The ghoul leaped through the night, from rooftop to rooftop, a dark shadow above the flickering city lights, his white hair illuminated by the dim light of the moon.

No one at Aogiri would miss him at this hour, he thought. Ghouls usually hunted at night; his absence was therefore expected.

But hunger was not the reason why Seido roamed through Tokyo. No, his goal that night was of different nature.

After the auction, Seidos mind had become even more confused. Before, hunger and self-hatred had been all that burned inside him. And he was content with it. Their bitter taste kept the confusion away. All these disgusting, human parts of him he had buried so deep. They muttered questions, screamed inside him and confused his already unstable mind even more. So he had supressed them, replaced them with his hatred.

But something had changed, when he had seen her. It had only been a short glimpse, one small look during his escape, but it had been enough to awaken something deep inside him. His mind wouldn’t concentrate on the anger anymore, instead he would bring up sensations or memories Seido had long thought forgotten.

The faint smell of pineapple shampoo, a pair of violet eyes, blonde hair in the sun...

"This has to end!" Seido thought. He made one last leap, landed on a rooftop and suddenly he stopped. Standing at the edge of an apartment building, his toes already hanging over the edges, he froze.

Now that he had arrived, he was not so sure anymore.

"What am I doing here?" the thought echoing through his mind.

Standing on the ledge, Seido could feel his stomach twisting.

"It’s not like I can talk to her! I am a ghoul; she would kill me without hesitation! She probably has already forgotten!"

His thoughts were racing, stomach clenching even tighter, and suddenly Seido felt sick. He rose a finger to his mouth, biting on the knuckles till blood dripped on his tongue and the sharp pain returned his mind to the moment.

"I’ll just take a look! It’s not like she’s awake. I’ll just need to see her one more time, then I’ll move on" he whispered, more to convince himself. It didn’t work.

Still Seido knew that he had to do it. In the last weeks the confusion inside of him had grown unbearable. He found himself lying awake, thinking of blonde hair and snarky comments. Emotions, he had thought long gone, resurfaced, and the human parts in him slowly crawled back up. And with these parts came the desire to see her again, to look into her eyes and hear her voice.

Of course, this was not possible, he knew that, but every time he tried to suppress these thoughts, they came back stronger.

Seido felt himself giggle, a joyless sound which was immediately swallowed by the night surrounding him.

"I’m like the protagonist in one of these stupid soaps Hina-chan watches" he thought. "Hopelessly lost to a beautiful and tragic lady".

It had to end; he knew it. These thoughts made him weak, unfocussed. And Ghouls devoured the weak.

Seido took a deep breath and stepped forward. He went into a free fall, rushing past half a dozen balcony’s before he stretched out his arm and caught himself. He could almost hear his muscles tear, felt pain race through his nerves but he welcomed the feeling which anchored him in the moment. With his other arm he pulled himself up, sitting down on the rail of the balcony. His muscles tensed as he rose his eyes to take a look.

Akiras room was minimalistic. A bed, a TV, and a blanket for her hideous Cat, which was nowhere to be found. But Seido took only quick notice of this, his eyes drawn to something else. Sleeping on the bed, only in a light black nightgown was she. Akira Mado. Her delicate figure was illuminated by the dim moonlight, her chest lifting slowly with every breath, a peaceful expression adorning her normally stoic face.

His heart was beating rapidly, but not because of the fall he had just survived. Suddenly Seido felt ashamed. He did not belong in this place, he knew that. Still, he couldn’t turn his eyes away.

“She is so beautiful” he thought. His eyes lingered over her body, absorbing every inch of her into his memory.

“What am I doing?” he whispered. He had come to end things. See her and forget her, that had been his plan. And if that wouldn’t work, well then, he would just kill her. Problem solved. She was only human after all, weak! But now that he was here, he could already feel the confusion coming, freezing his body and chocking his throat with cold, dead hands.

Weak… he repeated over and over. Weak, weak, weak, beautiful, weak, gentle, weak, admirable, BEAUTIFUL!

Seido opened his eyes again, noticing the taste of blood in his mouth. His right Hand was throbbing in pain but the confusion was supressed again.

“For now…”

As much as he hated to admit it, he had failed. Coming here had not helped him in the slightest. He could still feel his human parts, even more than before. They were clawing at his heart, eagerly trying to rip it out.

A single tear rolled down his pale check, gleaming in the moonlight.

“If they could see me now” he thought. Seido Takizawa, the feared Owl, Nightmare of the CCG defeated and destroyed by simply looking at a woman.

“It’s the second time she defeated you…” he chuckled. This thought was strangely comforting.

A sudden movement caught his eye. Akiras expression had changed, she was now frowning and rolling over, her breathing becoming faster.

“a nightmare” Seido thought, feeling a little sting of worry.

“I should go” he whispered to himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He knew that forgetting her was now impossible but bizarrely this thought did not fuel his anger. He threw another look at her. Akira was still frowning, her brows pulled together in a V Shape, her soft lips pressed together. Her body was trembling lightly.

Another sting went through Seido, making him skip a breath. “I’ll protect you” he whispered, a small, but warm smile forming on his lips. He settled down on the balcony rail, dangling his legs over the edge. He averted his gaze from her and looked at the moon, a silent resolve forming in his mind, drowning out any emotions and confusion. No Harm would come to her tonight!

A sudden noise made him freeze. The balcony door had been opened. Seidos heart jumped in his chest, every nerve screamed at him to leave, but he could not move a muscle.

Leave, leave, leave, LEAVE!!!!

Quiet footsteps approached him, but he still couldn’t move. Every moment, Mados Quinke would impale him, splattering his organs and blood over here balcony. This would be his end, he knew it!

“Seido?” Her voice was soft, and still heavy with sleep. No aggression, no anger.

Seido mustered all his willpower and slowly turned his head. Akira Mado stood only an arm’s length apart, her hair tousled and her arms wrapped around her torso. Her face was full of confusion, but there was something else in her eyes as she looked at him.

Affection? Grief?

“What are you doing here?” She asked, her voice still so unbearable soft. Seidos mind was flooding with thoughts. Why was she here, unarmed, unprepared? Why didn’t she attack him, why wasn’t she angry, why was her voice so soft?

“I…uhm” Seidos words only came out as a raspy whisper. He did not know what to say. This situation did not make sense, his sudden feelings did not make sense, everything was too much!!!

Akira looked at him, patiently. There was no resentment in her expression, only confusion mixed with… grief?

“I… came to see you” Seido murmured, confusion raging through his mind like a firestorm.

Akira looked at him, her eyes locking his in place. Her lip was trembling, he realized. Suddenly she stepped forward, and before Seido could react, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. Seido could feel her breath at his chest, feel her warm skin clatched at him. His mind went blank.

She was trembling, he realized. Acting instinctively, he slowly wrapped his arms around her, comforting her as she began to sob into his chest. He did not understand what was happening, but holding her felt right, just so right. And as little drops fell onto her head, still buried in his chest he realized that he was crying too, tears silently running down his cheeks.

After what felt like a moment, but what could also have been an eternity, her sobbing stopped and his tears dried out. Slowly, she was the first to pull back out of their embrace. Her eyes locked with his. They were red and swollen, but she smiled nonetheless, a warm and equally sad smile.

“I thought I lost you.” Her voice was hoarse from crying but Seido noticed the small glimmer of happiness in it. And he wanted to scream. “You lost me! I am dead! This isn’t me” But all that came out of his mouth was a small whimper “Akira…”

“Akira, I am a monster now!”

He expected her smile to die down, swallowed by the realization that he was, indeed, a monster, despicable and dangerous. But it didn’t happen. Instead, Akira raised her index finger to his mouth in a silencing gesture. Her eyes looked up to him, a violet, determined gaze.

“When you and Amon died, I lost everything.” Akiras voice was still husky but a vigorous tone was now underlining her words. “I don’t care what they did to you, or what they made you do, Seido! You are alive, you are here.”

Seidos felt his cheeks flush red in shame. This wasn’t right! Sure, he was still Seido Takizawa, but not the one she remembered. He had done terrible things, she knew that! He was a ghoul, the kind of beast she had sworn to destroy. Suddenly he couldn’t bear to look into her eyes anymore. He turned his head looking away in shame.

You’re a monster!

He felt a soft touch of fingers on his chin. Her thump gently stroked his pale skin and his black lips as she slowly turned his head, forcing him gently to look at her. And as Seido looked into her eyes he saw nothing but softness in her gaze.

“After the auction I read your file” she said, her voice now clearer. “I know what you did, what they did to you… I know that you´re a ghoul now…” She raised her chin, and Seido couldn’t help but remember the famous Mado pride. “And I´m still here Seido! I left you once, I will not do it again. Whatever comes next, well go through it together!” She said, with a voice that made absolutely clear that she had meant what she said.

Seido looked at her, a barely noticeably smile on his face. Words couldn’t express how he felt, couldn’t express the thankfulness, the shame and the happiness which sparked in his heart, not supressed anymore. And he knew that he wouldn’t find the right words to tell her. Instead, he closed his eyes and leaned slowly forward, his lips brushing softly against hers. They were so much softer than he had imagined, gentle but defined.

Slowly he pulled back, suddenly afraid he had made a mistake. But when he looked into her eyes this fear disappeared. Her gaze was still soft as she looked up to him. She shoot a quick glance at his black lips, a fire in her eyes, that he was sure had not been there before. Slowly she raised her hands, caressing his cheeks with her thump and then crossing them behind his head to pull him down to her.

Their second Kiss was more passionate. Akira pressed her lips to his, still gentle but more demanding than before. Soon she opened her mouth, gently sliding her tongue over his lips. When Seido opened his mouth, their tongues started to dance with each other, exploring the newfound spaces. Akira moaned softly, taking even the last concern from Seido. He gently grabbed her hips, moving her closer to him, embracing her and feeling her warmth through his dark cloak. For a long moment the remained like this; then Akira pulled back, emitting a small whimper from Seido.

“Will you stay the night?” She asked, making a gesture in the direction of her bed. She had lowered her head, avoiding his eyes as she asked. Seido felt a sharp spike of guilt. She was already afraid of losing him again.

“I will” he stated firmly.

Akira looked up to him again, her smile returning. “Great, because its getting a little bit cold out here.”

She grabbed his hand, leading him into her room. It was warm, Seido thought. And it smelled like her. As his eyes lingered back to her, he realized that she was inspecting him with a contained smile on her face.

“That muddy cloak does not come near my bed!” she stated. Seido couldn’t help but chuckle at her comment. Akiras smile grew wider as she closed the distance between them, her fingers quickly undoing the straps of his coat. Soon, she stripped it off his shoulders, the cloak falling silently to the ground. Seido stepped out of the legs, a little bit self-conscious and feeling somewhat naked. He was now wrapped only in his tight black shirt and a pair of loose pants which both, just like the Cloak, were rather muddy. He sighed and kicked these off as well, standing now only in his boxers. When he looked at Akira, his face flushed slightly red, he couldn’t help but notice her admiring gazes.

“You got muscular” she said, no hints of teasing in her voice. Seido couldn’t help but feel flattered.

“Thanks” he muttered. Still, he couldn’t quite shake his embarrassment and quickly slipped under the covers of Akiras bed. Only a moment later he could feel the warmness of Akiras body at his side. In a quick movement, she cradled her arms around him, and kissed his forehead. “Sleep well Seido” she whispered softly. And Seido knew he would.

#tokyo ghoul seidou #tokyo ghoul takizawa #takizawa tokyo ghoul #seidou takizawa #akira mado #tokyo ghoul #tokyo ghoul re #tokyo ghoul manga #mado akira

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sneezefiction · 4 years

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“okay, fine!”

Bokuto x Reader - Scenario

event request: “congrats on 600 #10 and Bokuto pls?”

a/n: something about moody, high school Bokuto really just gets me lmao. i love his sweet (sometimes ditzy) self so much. hope you enjoy some fluffy, unconventional confessions! <33

warnings: none!

wc: 1720

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“Are you gonna stay mad at me forever?” You say, exasperated.

The fluorescent lights are switched off, but the classroom isn’t completely dark. It’s illuminated by open windows and a pale, cloudy sky. Your hand rests loosely on your hip, the other arm hanging limply by your side awaiting his response.

The gloomy boy stays bunched up under the school desk, feet planted and eyes downcast, only giving you a dejected nod in response.

You let out a defeated sigh, your own head drooping in mock despondency. You hope he notices your reaction, but if he did, he doesn’t allude to it.

His golden eyes stay fixed on his shoes.

This would be harder than you thought.

You were used to Bokuto’s antics and aggressive mood swings that caused you to relentlessly chase his thought process until you figured out the issue. With a little prodding and finagling, plus maybe some advice from Akaashi, you could transform his pout into a blossoming, spring glow. His smile would return in a matter of hours to minutes.

But this was different.

He hadn’t smiled, spoken to, or so much as glanced your way in almost an entire month.

Bokuto was constantly groaning with his face squished between his hands, regularly sulking in the halls and gym, and to top it off, avoiding you at every twist and turn.

You could hardly put a finger on it and to say it made you uneasy would be an understatement.

You missed his snuggly bear hugs. How his lopsided grin always greeted you before any words could. Hell, you were even beginning to miss that horrible, “Hey, hey, heyyy!”

But clearly something was off… and it seemed to be directed at you.

The silent treatment is about to tear you up inside with worry, so it’s about time you confronted him.

Taking baby-steps, you slowly make your way up to his hiding place under the desk. Not trying to cross a boundary, you place a shy hand on the cold, plastic table-top, bending your knees into a squat so that you could be eye-level with the moping boy.

But now that you’re up close, you can tell that this isn’t any normal sadness.

You already suspected there was something more going on, but it’s clear now:

He’s actually hurt.

So you let yourself sink gently into a crisscrossed position in front of him, allowing your hands to fall into your lap for a moment before assessing the situation.

As one of Bokuto’s closest friends, you know that physical touch is a good start to any important conversation. So you reach out, being careful not to scrape your hand on the underneath of the table, and tenderly card it through his hair. For how spiky it looks, in all your life you’ve never felt something so soft and silky.

The sensation, though by your own doing, causes you to flush. But this isn’t about your feelings right now. No, this is about the troubled boy in front of you.

The glide of your lithe fingers in his hair finally compels him to glance up at you. Bokuto can’t help but lose some of his despondent edge as your devoted gaze receives his doleful one.

With a hand still slowly brushing his hair back, a heavy weight lifts off of your shoulders at the sight of his expressive, round eyes. You let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in. The guilt of not knowing what you’d done wrong had been piling like bricks on your chest, so it’s about time he at least shows you his face.

You muster up that sinking question. One he’s avoided for a month now.

“Bo, won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” You coax, your voice delicate and cautious.

Another shake of his head. It’s childish. Silly. But you know it’s genuine.

So you press on,

“I’m joining you down there, okay?” You state quietly, but resolutely.

You awkwardly shift under and into the tiny space. He scoots over, but only just enough that your knee is overlapping his thigh and so that your arm is snugly propped up against his. He doesn’t say it, but every fiber of Bokuto’s being is itching to swallow you up in a 2 hour long, all-consuming hug. He wants to touch your soft skin and laugh gleefully at the sound of your heavenly voice. To breathe in your intoxicating strawberry-chocolate aroma that makes his heart skip a beat.

But how can he do that if you’re not his?

You’re his best friend, but according to Akaashi, best friends don’t typically hold hands and smother each other in devoted, verbal love letters and tears of adoration. Or at least, most best friends don’t.

The reality crushed him.

He hadn’t realized it until a month ago, but Bokuto has been unknowingly pining after you for years. He wondered why his pulse raced at the brush of your hand or at one of your signature, teasing smiles. Why he wanted to pick you up and spin you around until you were both left breathless in each other’s arms. Why others taking up your time and attention had him pouting and emotionally charged. Why he needed to know everything about you, from your favorite color to the name of every single pet fish you’ve owned.

And then it clicked.

Or, well, Akaashi informed him that his actions and desires were likely due to his “crush” on you.

But that’s beside the point. He couldn’t spin you around in circles. Or press little kisses to your palms and temple. Or hold your smaller hands in his larger, warmer ones.

He realized he couldn’t do these things… because you aren’t his lover. And the thought of you finding someone else who would do that for you simply crushed his sweet soul.

And of course, if you liked him, you would’ve said something already, right?

But at the brush of your fingertips on his palm, he jolts upright. He instinctively encloses your hand in his palm and turns his head to soak in your features.

“So will you tell me now?” You’re fighting the crimson color that’s sneaking it’s way onto your cheeks, grasping his fingers a little tighter in the process.

And he can’t suppress his true nature any longer. Because, yes, Bokuto has mood swings… but a month-long breakdown is too much for his already addled brain and he is sick and tired of burying his feelings under a pile of uncertainty.

“Okay, fine!” He groans, snuggling his head into your shoulder.

You stiffen.

First, he ignores you for a month and now he’s back to his sporadic, cuddly tendencies? Were you ever going to be able to get used to this? But before you can relax into the touch, he follows up.

“The thing is… I like you y/n. No, wait, scratch that, I think I love you...” He explains, babbling almost casually, not recognizing the substance of his words.

Your eyes are wide and mouth agape. To most people, this would be the time to acquire an answer. To either receive or reject. Yet he gives you no time to process the confession, continuing in an almost... frustrated manner.

“But the thing is, you don’t like me! Which means I can’t treat you like I’m your boyfriend and go on fun dates and stuff. Y’know like amusement parks and arcades and coffee shops or-”

“Bokuto, wait a second, please, what?” You shuffle away from his touch, your hands firmly set on the ground beside you to steady yourself, facing him head-on.

“Yeah, I know right? This sucks. I only realized I liked you this past month when Akaashi-”

“Bo, stop talking,” You beg, trying to get a flustered word in.

“-told me that wanting to kiss you probably meant-”

“Just let me say something please!” You try to cut in, this time waving your hands frantically to get him to stop.

“-that I liked you. Oh, sure, go ahead.” For someone who’d been moping around for so long, the bubbly attitude that resurfaced had your head spinning. But the confession? Oh, that did it.

Your entire face is a delicate portrait of roses and deep scarlets, reaching up to your ears.

It takes a few seconds to fumble through your muddled thoughts, grasping for some semblance of a response. This… no, Bokuto is overwhelming. But you settle on the most important part of his bizarre confession.

“Who… who said I didn’t like you back?” You question, trying to keep yourself composed, but failing miserably.

He stays silent, processing your words as though they were some test question he hadn’t quite studied for. His eyes blankly scan the room, searching for the answer as though it would show up on the classroom walls.

Finally, Bokuto tilts his head,

“I don’t know.” He states plainly, full of confusion,

“How could I know that?”

“Bo, exactly.” You explain, slowly pulling yourself out from your wary position.

Bokuto’s face is devoid of any understanding.

And, once again, you sigh.

He’s painfully unaware of your feelings. So, of course, you would have to be the one to make the first move.

But that’s okay because Bokuto is hopeless if not for physical demonstrations and perfectly clear explanations.

And you opt for the physical, once again.

You draw yourself toward the wide-eyed boy, still managing to keep your head ducked underneath the desk, and grasp one of his calloused hands. He looks down at the contact, baffled. You gingerly lift the other hand, tilting his chin up to meet your warm, cherry-tinted face.

He smiles but still hasn’t taken the hint.

You roll your eyes comically before leaning in with a sweet smile on your lips.

You take his lips into yours, cautiously sneaking your hand back behind his head to pull him in slightly. Bo’s reaction time intellectually may not be something to brag about… but physically? He already has you pulled into his firm chest, grinning into your unexpected kiss.

You can’t help but giggle as you pull away from your unsuspecting best friend, soon to be boyfriend.

Because this action expresses one minor detail that Bokuto may have forgotten to consider, which wordlessly states,

“Dumbass, you never even bothered to ask me if I liked you back.”

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tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @kaidasen, @miss-rin, @shou-kunn, @senkuwu-chan, @super-noya, @stcrryskies

(comment or send an ask to be added to my general tag list)

#haikyuu #bokuto x reader #bokuto #bokuto kotaro #bokuto fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq #hq scenarios #hq imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #bokuto scenario #bokuto imagines #bokuto fanfiction #bokuto headcanons #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuucreations #sneezefiction

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