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itaipava · 5 months

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— little things about a relationship with f1 boys.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

playfully pushing each other’s buttons simply because you can. feigning forgetting important days to surprise you later. falling asleep together to the sound of the rain. sports, video games, boardgames because a couple that plays together, stays together. laughing so hard you can’t breathe. unpredictable hugs. encouraging each others’ hobbies and interests. inside jokes. lots of it. so many couple selfies. wearing his hoodies and shirts. going on double dates. constantly doing movie marathons. saying “love you” at the end of every phone call.

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO

lunch dates. living your best life together. laughing and singing freely. sweet little texts throughout the day to check in on you. “how was your day?” subconsciously pulling you closer in his sleep. lovingly looking at each other just because. sharing umbrella in the rain/sun. taking photos for each other. “goodbye” and “hello” kisses. road trips - sometimes spontaneous and sometimes carefully planned for weeks prior. running hands through each other’s hair. cooking and doing the dishes together afterwards. little foot massages. never forgetting to say “thank you” for the little things.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

him looking at you when you’re not looking and the soft, comfortable eye contact when you catch him looking and neither looking away as you giddily smile at each other. him saving extra treats like chocolate or candy for you and slipping them in your pocket as a little surprise. him subconsciously sniffing your hair or neck before hugging you even tighter. tracing your features with his fingertips during afternoon cuddles by the window because he finds you so beautiful. always looking at each other first when you find something funny. conversations at midnight, at 3 a.m, at early in the morning, evening, afternoon. it’s falling a little more in love with each inner thought and idea shared. flirty and cheesy words exchanged just because. smiling and laughing till your faces and stomachs hurt.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

stolen gazes in public that become stolen smiles then stolen kisses in the dark. even when surrounded by other people, his eyes always find you and yours him. loving each other’s company so much that you lose track of time; sitting at a corner table in a quaint little café — that later becomes your spot — talking about your ideas and thoughts and dreams for hours and hours until the waiter interrupts, asking you to order again or to leave. him instinctively putting his hand on your knee or on your waist when someone tries to flirt with you. surprise back hugs and soft kisses on the shoulder. innocent neck kisses in an attempt to tickle the other.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

already acting like a married couple as well as best-friends. saying “honey, i’m home.” breakfast in bed. taking long walks together. watching tv while cuddling. soft laughter. him doing your manicures. soaking in the warm tub together. little glances at each other when in public, in your own little world. slow kisses. slow dances. fancy and traditional dinner dates. “we’re in this together.” taking things slow. giving each other fashion advice. going shopping together. trying on clothes and posing for each other. late night phone calls. wanting to be around each other so much that you make up excuses to have more time together before the date or the hang-out ends. him adoringly looking at you when you’re not looking. matching jewelry

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

being each other’s home and safe haven. casual pda; the hand-holding; having his arm slung over your shoulder; clinging onto his side while walking. leaning closer to each other to whisper inside jokes in public. secrets exchanged at 3 a.m under the covers, facing each other, fingers absentmindedly trailing on one another’s skin. knowing what the other is trying to say with just a look. looking at each other in public, not touching but feeling close. him adoringly watching you from the bed while you do your skincare in front of the vanity table; locking gazes in the mirror, playful smirks forming on your faces. innocent neck kisses. taking plenty of couple selfies/mirror selfies together. unintentionally matching outfits and laughing about it.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

it’s acting like an old married couple. enjoying doing the mundane things together. making bad jokes then staring at each other and your faces breaking out in grins and soft laughter. saying one thing but meaning the complete opposite: it’s ‘i hate you’s with loving smiles. accepting each other’s flaws and falling even more in love for them. him giving you his hoodie so that you can wear it when you’re cold or use it as a makeshift blanket. him poking your sides at the most random moments and giving you a mischievous, teasing half-smile when you tell him to stop. facetime calls at night for ‘a few minutes’ that end up lasting for hours with you falling asleep on call and him taking screenshots of it to tease you later but also end up staring at your peaceful, sleeping face with the softest smile.

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froody · 1 year

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please help my scruggly cat

Tommy, Tumblr micro-celebrity famous for featuring/being the muse for hit posts such as ‘father is…evil?’ and ‘my cat can tell when I’m sad and instinctively bites my toes’ and ‘frustrating each other is our love language’ needs a little financial support. Please consider donating to my ko-fi or buying something from my teespring store.

Tommy was diagnosed with diabetes earlier this year under dramatic circumstances that involved a week long intensive care vet stay. She has stomatitis (an inflammation of the gums and mucus membranes) that she was on steroids for and the steroids may have damaged her pancreas. Since her diagnosis we’ve had a hard time controlling her blood sugar. Her insulin dose goes up and up. The vet thinks she has a good chance of stabilizing, that diabetic cats can and do live long, healthy and happy lives. She’s only 5. Her 6th birthday is later this month. She’s fighting. She wants to live.

Each insulin vial costs $160. Her prescription cat food is $35 for a 4 pound bag. She’s also on gabapentin for her pain and neuropathy and she’ll probably need another course of antibiotics. She currently goes to the vet every two weeks and the cost of that varies immensely. Basically, she’s a much more expensive cat than she was before and the cost of living for me has risen as well. It’s not an immediate emergency but we need funds. I’m disabled, I have an autoimmune disease that attacks my colon, I have a hard time working outside of the home or even at all because my health fluctuates and my energy levels are low. I’m trying so desperately to get better but for now I’m living in my mom’s house and sponging off my loved ones and tapping into my meager savings.

I know what you’re thinking, the thing people always comment on donation posts about pets, “if you can’t afford to care for your cat, why do you still have your cat?” and as biting as that question is, I know it’s a valid one and I’ve thought about it myself. I still have her because I need her and she needs me. She’s like my soulmate animal. We met when I was 16 and she was about 4 weeks old. There was no way I could have known we’d both be struggling sick moneypits in 5 years. I’m trying to give her the best life I can and she’s trying to give me her best self. I’m her person. I’m home 24/7 so we’re so used to having each other. She brings me immense joy and I know she’s brought a lot of other people joy. If you’re one of those people, please consider giving a couple of dollars. If you can’t afford to, that’s fine. Thank you for reading anyway.

TL;DR: cat sick. I’m sick. please help.

#cat health chronicles #tommy #signal boost #important post

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astroboots · 10 months

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Every You Every Me #Issue 5

COLLABORATED WITH @thirstworldproblemss

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You finally catch Spiderman in your bed and try to get answers to the many many questions you have.

Word count: 3,200 words.

Content: Awkward one bed shenanigans, teensy bits of angst

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss' Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

You wake to the glare of the morning sun spilling through the curtains.

Your first waking thought is that it. is. so. bright. God, why is it so fucking bright.

Your second thought is that you need to pee.

There is no third. Because your bladder is killing you.

There's just one not-so-small problem, and he's lying on top of you, in the same position he fell asleep in last night. Wrapped all around you, clinging on like you're a soft comfort blankie he refused to be weaned off of.

It's not... unpleasant, exactly (your need to pee aside).

For such a large man, being trapped underneath him is more comfortable than you might have expected. He's heavy, sure, but the pressure feels more like a weighted blanket with the way he's draped across your body, arms curled around your waist and back.

It helps that the sheer size disparity means that you're too small of a surface area for his whole body to cover and most of his weight rests on the mattress.

Rather than suffocating, it’s almost… cozy.

It must be really early in the morning, because your room is nearly silent. You can’t hear the familiar New York traffic. The noise of honking cars, angry shouting people and screaming cop sirens outside of your window. Instead, in the quiet of the morning the only noise you hear is the sound of his soft snoring against your collarbone.

Before today, you never knew superheroes snore. It’s not the sort of mundane thing you ever think about superheroes doing.

You stare up at him for a minute, soft skin and long lashes fluttering across his cheeks, marveling that he looks so... human.

Which of course he does. The observation shouldn’t really surprise you. For all the fantastical mythos that surrounds them, at the end of the day, most superheroes are human beings.

…Unless you're talking about Thor, of course, who’s an actual Viking God. And maybe not Hulk either, because... well... look at him. He’s all green and roided out, you don’t know what he is but he’s certainly not human. And then there’s– Okay, you know what, now that you actually think about it, a lot of superheroes are not human at all.

Maybe that’s why last night took you so much by surprise. You always thought they were invincible. You’d never guess that a slice of coffee cake could bring one down, collapsing as easily like a poorly built house of cards.

Even more surprised when he’d held onto you, pleading for you to stay.

When you see the Avengers plastered on the front cover of every newspaper, they look larger than life. When you see Captain America and his star-spangled shield sparkling in the centerfold of the Times, you never really stop to consider, what’s he like when the mask comes off.

In some abstract way, you were aware that superheroes have lives beyond just superheroing. You just never thought about the fact that a lot of them probably have families at home that they worry about. Friends that they care for. People they miss.

Nena

He'd said.

The person he mistook you for last night.

Something squeezes uncomfortably tight in your chest just remembering the tone in his voice when he said it.

Something is going on here. It's clear to you now even more so than before, that this man doesn’t just keep saving you out of sheer coincidence. There’s a mystery here that’s all tied together in an interconnected web somehow and you're pretty sure it has to do with this Nena person. She is most likely the answer to why your whole life has been upended in the last few months.

You need to find out what is going on and now that he's physically here, right in front of you, as soon as he wakes you can finally ask him and get some answers that are long overdue.

You just really need to fucking pee first.

Gingerly, you wedge an arm between your chest and his. You attempt to slowly and carefully pry open the stranglehold he has on you, hoping to scoot up and out of his arms.

He grunts in reply, still soundly asleep, and his arms tighten their hold on you, pulling you back into him as he burrows his face into your chest.

"Five more minutes," he grumbles, voice raspy with sleep. "Nena, it's too early."

There it is again, that nickname. You freeze, holding as still as possible, feeling your heart skip a beat at the tone of his voice as he said it. It’s said with so much fondness and hints at so much familiarity each time he has said it.

You don't know what you're meant to do in this situation. Except you clearly can’t let him go on thinking you’re… whoever it is that he thinks you are for much longer.

There are the muddy moral implications of allowing this to go on any further after all, considering that the man probably has no idea where he is after you practically roofied him with baked goods.

You also still really need to go pee already.

He shifts against you, one thick, heavy thigh wrapping over your leg and pulling you in further before coming to a rest directly on top of your bladder. Okay, fuck, you take back what you said about this not being unpleasant. This is really, really unpleasant.

You need him to get up now.

Forcing your hand free, you reach up to give him a polite tap on the shoulder. When polite doesn’t get you any results, you do it harder, three successive taps, and he still doesn’t even stir. You keep tapping, progressively harder until you’re punching him hard enough that any normal person would be yelping in pain and begging you to stop.

He groans once, arms shifting to secure his hold on you. For a moment you think he’s going to ask for another ‘five minutes,’ but then the whole of his body goes stiff, every muscle suddenly rigid with tension. A suspended silence permeates the space, and you find yourself holding your breath unsure of what to do next. The silence is broken by the sound of your bedsheets shifting, and you feel the firm hold around your waist ease off, his arms and legs retreating from your body.

He's up and out of bed in one smooth move, almost faster than you can follow. By the time you struggle upright in bed (much less gracefully) he's already standing a few feet away, hands fisted at his sides.

“Sorry,” he says, looking at you and then off to the side like he can’t quite bring himself to meet your eyes, a bright flush burning high on his cheeks, “I… uh… I thought you were someone else."

His hulking frame towers over your bed, but he’s acting like a sulky, embarrassed little boy. The contrast should be absurd, but instead you find it… strangely endearing. Apparently even a high and mighty superhero can be brought low by an awkward situation, just like everyone else.

"It's okay. You didn't... um... do anything weird or anything," you say, trying to reassure him, but you can't concentrate on your words when your bladder is screaming bloody murder, "Look, can you give me a second? Just– shit. Just stay right there, okay? I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere!" you admonish him, throwing the words over your shoulder as you rush past him and into the bathroom

You nearly break your tailbone with how fast you sit down on the toilet seat, hoping to get your business done as quickly as possible and praying the whole 15 seconds that you’re gone that he won’t make a break for it and still be there when you get back.

Thankfully, when you nearly tear the bathroom door from its hinges, he is.

The first sight that greets you is his broad and defined back framed by the amber light pouring in from your window frame. It makes for a dramatic image. Golden and majestic, he seems to occupy half the space in your tiny apartment as he stands turned away from you, apparently taking in the view from your one and only window.

The first thing he says to you as he opens your mouth is not, ‘good morning.’ There's no ‘sorry for almost drunkenly smothering you to death last night,’ ‘how did you sleep with my hulk sized body on top of you’ or even a 'thanks for letting me sleep on your bed.'

No. Rude, knock off, maybe-vampire Spiderman, who still hasn't told you his name, slowly turns back towards you and takes one look at your face. Then he says, "I have to go."

Which, of course that’s what he’d say and do. Of course. You’re nearly growling with frustration as you run up to him.

"Wait!" you shout, darting around to block his path as you try to lead him back further into your apartment. "Do you want some breakfast?"

You still don't know him very well yet, but your few interactions so far have shown you that the way to break through his grumpy defenses is through his stomach.

"I can fix you up something. I’ve got some eggs in the fridge, and I can do scrambled or fried. Maybe over-easy, though I sometimes mess up the timing.”

You’re rambling on purpose. Speaking as fast as you can, as you continue to pull him towards your kitchen. You’re making sure he can’t get a word in edgewise, so that he doesn’t have a chance to protest before the food is in his stomach, and by then he’ll surely eat the whole thing before he starts getting sassy with you again. By then you’ll hopefully be able to sneak in one or two questions between mouthfuls.

He shakes his head, "No, I–I have to go... I wasn't supposed to..."

Not a fan of eggs, you note. It makes sense, so far the only thing you've ever seen him eat is baked goods, probably has a sweet tooth.

"I could make you pancakes? I won't even put coffee in them, I promise," you tease gently, hoping the humor might pull a smile from him.

It doesn't. If anything, his eyes look even sadder.

He stops mid-step, and no matter how much of your weight you put in trying to herd and push him towards your kitchen, he won’t budge an inch. You’d have more success moving a bull by its horns, and considering he’s bigger built than one, that tracks.

There’s no strain in his features, as he stays still, resistant to your efforts. "This is a mistake,” he says. “I should never have gotten involved."

He's moving again, this time away from you, stepping towards the window. Shit, he's going to make a run for it.

In the course of the last 24 hours you've managed to leap off the Chrysler building; poison the superhero standing in front of you; slept with him in the same bed; and yet somehow, through all of this, you still haven't managed to do the one thing you actually wanted: have a simple conversation with him.

"Wait, wait!" you shout out, panicky. "Can we just talk for a second? I really need to talk to you. I just want some answers.”

"I don't have any answers for you," he says.

He's turned his back again, one hand on the window sill as he's preparing to climb onto it. If you let him leap off it now, you don’t know when your next chance will be to catch him again.

"I'm not going to stop trying," you shout out in a last desperate attempt and that finally stops him in his tracks.

“I’m gonna be leaving,” he says with a finality in his words.

It doesn’t stop you though, doesn’t even discourage you. He might be stubborn, but you can give him a run for his money, because this is your life on the line.

“Then I’ll run after you. I’ll keep chasing after you. I'll keep asking, and asking, and asking. I'm not going to stop until you give me some answers."

There’s a silence between you again. Then he straightens his posture, and turns his head just far enough that you can catch his eyes. Whatever uncertainty was there before fades away as you see the resolve in his eyes harden.

"You're never going to see me again."

There's an ugly noise. A scratch over the vinyl of a record screeching in your brain that makes you unable to comprehend his words. You have to replay them in your mind, parsing them out, before you realize what he's actually telling you.

“Wait, what do you mean never see you again!?” you step forward towards the window sill, and he visibly retreats at your advance. “As in, you're going to back to avoiding me? It’s kind of late for that, isn't it? I've seen your face... twice. We’ve slept together!"

"No," he answers brusquely, brows pulled in at a sharp angle. “I'm leaving the… area. I'm not going to be around anymore."

“But you’ll be back… right?” you ask. Some corner of your brain refuses to accept what you think he’s telling you.

With a graceful movement, he leaps back down from the window sill, taking a step forward and leaning in until he’s looming over you, his face inches from your own.

“No,” he repeats, emphasizing the word.

Oh…

His words finally click. It took a few attempts for the stubborn gear in your brain to unjam, but you finally hear what he’s been trying repeatedly to tell you.

He’s leaving for good. He’s not coming back.

You… You don’t know how you feel. Your cheeks are strangely numb. Somehow the idea that he might not be around indefinitely had never occurred to you. You’ve grown accustomed to the safe haven he’s provided. Come to rely on him and the familiar safety of his shadow lurking around every corner, the blurred blue and red rescuing you from this crazy world trying to kill you.

A flash of cold sweat breaks out along your back. His presence is your only anchor to safety. If he’s not here…

"But– but– if you leave…” You trail off, barely able to imagine it.

All the near-misses flash through your mind. The taco truck stampeding through the city, the subway train barrelling towards you, construction sites crashing down right above your head. So many deaths held at bay by the one man in front of you, and if he leaves… If he’s gone…

You can barely choke out the next words, your voice a strangled whisper, “...what’s going to happen to me?”

A flash of anguish breaks through his stony features before he turns away, dropping his gaze to his feet. Pained sadness bleeds into those crimson eyes, something that speaks of guilt, loss and defeat.

"I’m sorry," he says quietly, "I can't save you. I never could. Nothing can."

And what can you say to that? You can’t force him to do more for you than he already has. He’s done a lot—much more than anyone has to, superhero or not, and you know that—and it’s selfish of you to ask more.

You swallow down the anxiety crawling up your throat and it tastes like burnt bile.

Anyone would be lucky to have a superhero save them from certain death even once in their lifetime, and somehow you've been blessed with more times than you can count.

In fact, you’ve been spoiled rotten, managing to escape death so many times that you've grown almost… complacent about it. Expecting him to rescue you, when really you've been living on borrowed time for months now, winning one lottery ticket after another. You've had more extra time than anyone could ever wish for.

In front of you, you see him moving again. If you let him go like this, then this is it. This is where it all ends. Without him, it’s only a matter of time before death catches up with you again—for good this time.

You shake your head, refusing the defeat. It may be selfish, greedy even, but this is your life and you can’t let it end here.

You don’t want to die. You made a promise to yourself when you fell out of the Chrysler building for the first time.

You want to live. You want to live. You want to live.

"Wait! Please..." You grab onto his hand, and even though you have no doubt he could break free from your desperate grip with very little effort, he stops for you.

"I don't know what's going on! Every day I walk out that door, and almost die again and again and again. I'm scared and confused, and it seems like the universe is hellbent on killing me, and you're the only clue I've got as to why. The only reason I'm still alive is because you keep saving me. I know that it’s selfish to ask you this, because you don’t owe me anything. But…”

You pause, drawing in a deep breath, and say the words with your whole chest, “I want to live!”

He doesn’t quite flinch, but the hand at his side twitches and then he’s reaching up to you. So close, you can almost feel his knuckles grace the side of your cheek. Then he stops, a fraction of an inch from your face.

He tilts his head to the side, like he’s listening to something you can’t hear.

Must be some other emergency your unfriendly neighborhood Spider-man needs to be on his way to. You try to push down the unexpected envy boiling in your stomach at the thought.

Although… now that you’re listening, you can hear something too. Something like the low hum of a helicopter, growing louder all the time.

Must be a police chopper. Traffic ‘copters aren’t allowed to fly so low.

Abruptly, the light flees your apartment. Shadow sweeps across your window and covers everything in pitched darkness.

A blackout? But it's morning, even if the power went out, the sun should still be–

You feel it before you see it in the dark, a tight grip on your wrist pulling you. His arm slams across your waist, yanking you backwards.

The world lurches around you, receding with a deafening roar of collapsing concrete and shrieking metal. The last thing you see is the wall of your apartment disappearing in a cloud of dust and twisted metal.

Your stomach drops sickeningly. Bright light flashes across your vision in intense rainbow-colored bursts. Pink. Red. Green. Blue. You have to close your eyes as wind whips mercilessly against your cheeks, loud impossible roaring in your ears.

Is this death? Somehow you thought it would be quieter. Calm.

Still.

And then it is. Everything stops, and when you finally dare open your eyes again, there’s…

Nothing.

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: To my lovely collaborator @thirstworldproblemss who is always staying up brainstorming with me, listen to my insane ramblings, plotting each scene in the outlines and helping me beta and edit and even rewrite large chunks of paragraphs I'm unhappy with til the very last minute. Truly my favorite person in all of the lands. I love you!!

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

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uncouth-the-fifth · 12 days

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good morning, charlie - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: domestic fluff with the tiniest dustings of background angst, married life, hugging, kissing, and snuggling. Words: 3k (yes, I'm capable of keeping something this short) Notes: read this in a WWE announcer voice: THAT'S RIGHT! UNCOUTH HAS COME CRASHING BACK INTO THE RING AFTER YET ANOTHER MONTHS-LONG HIATUS. i'm magical, truly. here is the first Leon fic I promised last month! There's so much I want to say about this little drabble, but I'll save that for my curious ppl on Ao3. this is going to be a big 180 from my spn content, and I sincerely hope that's okay with the public 😭 for my RE people: enjoy domestic Leon bullshit!

At two in the morning, Washington D.C. is pouring everything it has into crafting the coziest atmosphere of all time. A pleasant window-tapping storm had rolled in right around when you resolved to stay up working. Some late-night radio host is making soft, fizzing chatter in the next room, and coupled with a stellar view of the city from fancy floor-to-ceiling windows, you have a prime opportunity to pass the fuck out.

Unfortunately, you have made some spectacular life choices that don’t mix well with a full night’s rest. Nope, no sleep for you. Despite all of fate’s attempts to stop you from being a cop, (including throwing a city-wide outbreak at you on your first day), you are still here, gripping your job with both hands. At two in the damn morning.

Since scrubbing your eyes hadn’t woken you up the first five times you tried it, you give it another shot as you pace the length of your living room rug—from the coffee table you’ve stacked with files, then back to the whiteboard pasted top-to-bottom with pictures of missing young women. The whiteboard had been Leon’s idea. After the fourth time you’d transformed a flattened cardboard box into a morbid case-board for work, he’d cajoled you into letting him buy one for the apartment.

But I won’t be able to stab the tacks into it, you’d pouted.

Oh, the agony, your husband had drawled. He was a master of delivering a good, dry look.

You’d propped your fists on your hips and tried your best to look serious. The red yarn connecting everything isn’t just a detective-movie thing, y’know! It’s actually really useful. And I need my tacks to stick the yarn in—

Leon had cut cleanly through your building sass with another look, this time one glimmering with humor. Then I’ll get you magnetic ones, detective. Don’t you use whiteboards at the precinct anyway?

You’d grumbled. Because, yes, you did use whiteboards at the station, and they did have the little tacks with the magnets on the bottom. But you’d refused to deal with Leon being all smug (he was unbearable pretty when he was right), and had teased back instead, Whatever, nerd. Why don’t you and the other two angels go call Charlie already?

The reference had gone clean over Leon’s head. Of course, he hated being left out of a joke, so he’d roped you over by your wrist and pinched an explanation out of you until you were squealing with giggles.

Summarizing Charlie’s Angels to Leon had been a lot like offering a paper rocketship to an aerospace engineer. But, hey, picturing him running around in skimpy outfits and escaping action movie explosions on a motorcycle is a whole lot more fun than… than the real deal.

You don’t want to think about what his missions are really like. Not that you’re even allowed to know in the first place. Being Leon’s wife permits you a government-issued phone with his handler’s number, and on antsy days you can push Ingrid for details if you want. But after so long you’ve learned it only hurts both of you—for her, in the inability to answer, and for you, in the excruciating pain of being unable to know. Where is he? That’s classified.

She can’t always tell you when he’s coming home, either. So much of your life is hinged on her check-ins, and even more is forced to live off a simple, He’s okay.

For the seventh time, you scrub at your tired eyes and suck in a deep breath. You’d gotten that fabled text from Hunnigan—he’s okay—earlier today, and like always you crawled through the rest of your shift roiling with anticipation, waiting for Leon to materialize back into your life.

You force your gaze back to the whiteboard, littered with notes and pictures hung up with magnetic tacks. The faces of five missing women bore back. The ten-ton weight of your caseload slams down in full, and again, you scold yourself for floating back into comforting memories of your husband. These girls have lost all comfort in the world since they were taken. Your Captain gave you the responsibility of finding them, and after all you’ve been through, after all the other cases you’ve closed, there can’t be any room for failure. Think.

Your legs ache from being on your feet all day, chasing leads, but dropping into Leon’s armchair for even an instant will just have you nodding off again. More pacing it is, then. This is your pattern for the next half-hour: pace, re-read witness statements, turn, sip your coffee, pace, cross-reference alibis. He’s okay. Two of the girls were taken from Queen’s Chapel, two from Takoma, one from Woodridge. He’s fine. The last victim breaks the profile. What’s different about her? Why take her? Think think think— You know what Leon would do. He was the kind of person you could put in front of a problem, and no matter what he would find a way to shoulder his way through. With physical force, sure, but mental force too. He would sit and just look at the puzzle, and sheer willpower would lead him to some kind of answer. But you’d been pushing and pushing for days now, pursuing every lead, pressing every witness, yet nothing will give. The whole thing feels like a punching bag you’re beating at over and over again, knuckles raw and bloody—

Keys rattle just outside the front door.

First the big deadbolt scrapes open, unlatching with a heavy thud, and that sound alone is enough to shock you awake. More than any coffee could. Then comes the doorknob. Leon hasn’t even turned his key before you’ve twisted the lock open, yanked the door out of your way, and sent it whipping into the jamb with his keyring still swinging from its slot. You give him one full blink to register that it’s you before you’re throwing yourself on him without a single lick of shame, legs and all.

Of course, Leon bears your weight with grace. He grunts out an oof! when you come in for landing, and the living, breathing sound drains into one gruff laugh. You’re scooped up under the thighs and teddy bear squeezed against him. He reeks of cheap motel soap and something faintly coppery—then mint, a whole world of plush, wet spearmint when he nudges your face up with his nose and lays a hello kiss on you. The taste of his gum and the scratch of his stubble on your chin make your skin feel like it’s fizzing, inside-burning-out, every inch of you stood on end by his static charge. Jesus, this guy. He feels like fucking magic, and you’re confident that the laws of physics don’t quite apply around him. Everything in the room, in the too-big apartment that’s painfully empty without him in it, tilts toward Leon.

You shove your face nose-first into his neck and clutch the back of his jacket in both fists. Swallowing hard, you manage, “Hey, angel.”

“Good morning, Charlie,” Leon says.

If you had any resolve for today left in you at all, the wash of his sizzling butter voice would squash the last of it. You’d been trying to be sweet, but your husband has to be funny about fucking everything, of course. Even after weeks spent apart. You love him so fucking much.

“Don’t tell me you found time to watch that stupid movie.” Your voice is muffled by his coat, and you’re grateful for an excuse to hide.

You’re moving. Leon carries you inside, his wedding band pressing into your leg and his other big, warm hand spooned around your back. “Boring plane ride. I wanted to get your jokes.”

Your front door is toed shut, and with all the efficient maneuvering of a proper agent, Leon gets the place locked up behind you. Somewhere in all the commotion he’d dropped his go-bag by the welcome mat, and you hear the dramatic thunk, thunk, of his fancy work loafers being kicked off beside it. Only then does he slip you onto your own feet again.

Your hands slide down his arms as you make contact with the floor. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware that he’s damp from the rain, but that fact hangs in the little alternate universe he’s made in your front hall. Standing there and being able to look at him straight-on, Leon doesn’t feel real. It’s like your constant thoughts of him have manifested a ghost in his shape, mimicking the smiley rookie you remember.

He greets you with a quiet, beaten-down smile, and you understand immediately that the world has thrown its fair share of punches at him, too. You’ve both had a shit week. The Kennedy surname just brims with good luck, huh?

Your hands work on autopilot as you take him in, slipping under the fabric of his jacket and lingering over his thudding heart. His warm blue gaze swims over your face, and you can almost hear the clicking mechanisms in his head as he forces himself out of operative mode and into home mode by looking at you.

“It’s a really bad movie,” you say, choked up.

Leon’s jacket hits the floor with his shoes. There’s a swath of ugly, purpling bruises crawling up his bare arm, old enough to be greening at the edges, and your stomach churns when you see it.

He taps your chin up, pulling you away from the damage and back on him. His voice rolls over you like bourbon in a glass. “Absolutely. So-bad-it’s-good, even. We should watch it, make fun of it together. Like, why the hell does…”

Leon flawlessly falls into an analysis of the movie’s poorly-written espionage elements. The movie you made one offhand joke about several weeks ago, mind you. He’s pulling at straws, saying whatever the hell comes to mind to make you laugh, so exhausted he’s literally swaying on his feet. You can’t believe he’s trying to distract you with something so trivial, but this is your husband. One flash of that weary closed-mouth smile, one brush of those callused hands down your wrists, and your whole world resumes its orbit around him.

You laugh at the jokes he’s obviously crafted for your benefit, a weak chuckle your heart isn’t in. With his hands looped around your wrists, he guides your arms around his neck and welcomes you back into the toasty bubble of his touch. Leon’s even warmer from being tucked underneath his coat. Pure goodness and safety glows off him like a fucking nuclear reactor, and it dawns on you that you haven’t felt safe at all since he left. Anyone can be plucked off the streets here.

One more scratchy kiss and then he’s leading you deeper into your apartment. No one on Earth would believe that he’s a chatty guy, but he talks the whole way through. Too often he’s left to sit in his own mind on missions, and you’re treated to two week’s worth of his backlog in the next ten minutes. All the little things he wanted to say to you. The streams of smart-mouth commentary he was famous for at the academy are all inner monologue now, but you’re confident the Leon radio show still runs twenty four hours a day. He chatters so much in his head that it slips out of him like water sometimes—

“…that close to an explosion would disintegrate you, but fuck physics I guess—“ Leon interrupts his own flow of thought to squint at you. “Quit looking at me like that. It’s unfair how pretty you are when you’re tired. What was I—not like the laws of physics apply to that movie anyway, but…”

—and you’re stupidly charmed by it. He talks to comfort himself, and because the two of you are one unit, one person to him, he does the same for you.

With your hand tethered in his, he clicks off the radio in the kitchen. One of Leon’s side-stories replaces the random late-night station that’d been playing, floating over the din of the rain like bass over relaxing drums. He pours out the dregs of your coffee. He closes the files full of gruesome crime scene photos on your coffee table, and you watch, barely able to keep your head up, as he flips your whiteboard over to its blank side. You’ll get his second opinion on the case tomorrow.

Leon sweeps the place with you in tow, and once the security system’s armed and you’re almost sagging against him, the lights come off. Though you’ve had plenty of time to adjust to the Leon that returned home from training, you’ll never get used to the little alien ticks it’s given him. He navigates to your bedroom in complete blackness. He avoids the creaky floorboard just outside your door without seeing, deathly silent. The broad presence of him looms in the dark.

One wall of the bedroom is nothing but paneled glass, throwing a long square of dark blue moonlight over your rumpled comforter. While the view of the Potomac and Capital Hill is stellar from up here, you’ve always felt out of place among the things Leon’s generous salary has earned the two of you: a flat with a private elevator in the nice part of town, fresh-off-the-press sports cars, a getaway cabin up north. So much of it you end up enjoying by yourself. It only ever feels worth it when he’s here, smacking his elbow into the digital wall-panel that controls your A/C.

“—s’ supposed to be a touch screen,” he sidebars himself for the tenth time. Softer, Leon adds, “Brush your teeth. I’ll be right there.”

You rope your arms around his middle and press your face into the heart of his back, careful of the bruises he’s doing his best to hide. “Wanna wait for you.”

Leon doesn’t protest. There’s more little beeps as he screws with the temperature of your mattress or something, deciding, “We live in a damn spaceship. Are we too good for plain old-fashioned buttons now?”

Apparently you are, since old man Leon fails to figure out how to crank the heat up. You let him play with it for a little while longer (it’s not his fault he’s rarely home), and then intervene with a few quick taps when things get dire. The heater hums to life under the floor a beat later, and he turns in your grip to scoff, mystified by your vast and incredible knowledge.

“My smart girl,” he hums.

Just that is enough to chip off a piece of your strength. Had he said that to you over the phone, a million miles away in god-knows-where, your knees would buckle. He is the only one who talks to you like that—with so much simple, uncomplicated love. Too tired to put your thoughts into words, you flatten a hand over his heart and kiss the sun-freckled nape of his neck.

“Clingy,” Leon mutters. You’re pretty sure it’s supposed to sound dry and funny, another one of his jokes. But then he’s smoothing both of his palms down your arms in two long handsy swaths, and the gesture tells you everything about just how clingy he’s feeling, too.

His stories make getting ready for bed an even slower affair. You couldn’t mind if you wanted to. As you help him out of his starchy dress-shirt button by button, he surprises you with a rare explanation of where he’s been for the last weeks. The UK. Truly, your husband is the special secret agent to end all special secret agents: he talks around his job as if it was a bump he’d hit on the way home, entertaining you instead with his Leon-ified vision of London. Touristy as shit. Loud as shit. Smelled like shit.

“Just like DC,” he chuckles, and then a second time when your fluffy head pops through the collar of the sleep shirt he’s dressing you in.

It’s too much rough, cinnamon spice laughter for one woman to stand. You duck away to brush your teeth and groan into your palms like a schoolgirl over him, but sure enough, Leon trails you, fingers chasing the hem of your shirt (his shirt) in a sleepy daze. He always keeps you in view. Nervous, maybe, to have you out of his sight.

This tradition continues when the two of you crawl into bed. Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and so has your body, able to sense him on the stupidly expensive mattress beside you. He thinks you can’t tell, but his gaze roves over you again and again—down your back when you flop face-first into the plush bedding, over the slope of your shoulder when you wiggle under the covers. Leon draws you into the glorious halo of his body heat with a gentle hand on your belly. If you could bottle this feeling, the whole world would be sick and stupid for him in hours. Minutes even.

You feel so safe that the word doesn’t even come to mind. Just vague, peaceful shapes of things you know, home, sleep, cologne, cozy. His work-rough palm with his body-warm wedding band slips under your tee to sweep over your ribs. Then comes Leon’s face, just on the right side of stubbly as he shoves it between your shoulder blades without a single lick of shame. The breath he takes of you is so heavy that his whole frame shudders with it, top to bottom.

You remember how you’d burrowed into his jacket the second he got home and think, You are me and I am you. We’re always on the same page.

With that, the stage is set. DC’s faraway glittering cityscape lights up all the raindrops on your window, and you watch them run as the two of you melt into one another. Leon’s warm breaths slow across your neck. Time for you to deliver your line.

You wet your lips and murmur into your pillow, “Do you want to talk about your mission?”

Legally, he can’t say yes. Government secrets, bureaucracy, yadda yadda. Leon isn’t always emotionally ready to crack open a coffin he’s just finished sealing, either, but while it is his job to close your case files for the night, you’re his wife. You’re the only person who can knock on that door. With how little choice he has left in his life, you try to give him options whenever you can. Regardless, you know the man you married—strong-willed on a mythical fucking level, and just as self-sacrificing. He’ll always try to spare you.

Sure enough, Leon says, “Tomorrow. Do you want to talk about your case?”

You shake your head at him, exhausted to the point of dizziness. “Tomorrow.”

A tender kiss is pressed to the nape of your neck, and the whole world goes silent for the perfect, husky whisper you’ve ached to hear. You feel his wry smile against your skin. “We’re always on the same page, baby.”

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy/reader #resident evil #resident evil four #re4 remake #leon kennedy drabble #uncouthre

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astraariel · 7 months

Text

scarlett love

pairing: sanji x fem!reader

summary: you forgot him, chose to let Sanji go, but was that enough? would the universe leave you alone and let you live in peace?

word count: 4.1K

warnings: cursing; spoilers (?) just mention of a character from the whole cake island arc, it’s a modern!au so I don't mention anything about the actual arc!

tags: angst; fluff; hanahaki disease; modern!au; reconciliation; second chances; unrequited turned requited; slight self-hate; happy endings

author’s note: okkkkay here it is. so many of you guys asked for it so here’s pt 2 to eternal snow! I initially wanted to post the mihawk fic first that i'm working on but I can’t finish writing it for the life of me so I decided to work on this one instead lol.

like I mentioned before, this is part 2 to this fic so obvi read that before you read this one!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

They say people who have the surgery are doomed for life.

How could they choose to never love again; how could they deliberately go through with the surgery knowing they would never have those emotions again?

But in actuality, it was the choice of forgetting about that love.

People don’t know the grievances and the strength it takes to choose to forget the love of your life. They don’t know the despair of being in love with someone wholeheartedly knowing they don’t love you back.

That you would never remember those emotions for whom you loved.

You saw it as this: if you couldn’t live to love your person, you wouldn’t bear to love at all.

So in that way, you won.

You gained the power to no longer grieve for your love because you simply couldn’t remember him.

Since hanahaki disease was rare, there weren’t too many recovery patients to base knowledge on since many of the victims chose to die rather than to be saved.

So you were honestly going in blind.

Nami would sometimes ask you if you could remember anything, a nervous look on her face, you knew she remembered your past love, but the doctor had told her to not mention anything to you in your recovery period. You think she asked out of curiosity.

Or maybe fear?

But every time you’d just tell her that you couldn’t, your head would hurt if you thought too hard and too long about who you had lost.

If you could remember specific memories, they weren't fully visualized, they were static, like when an old TV was out of range from the signal and would struggle to picture the channel.

All you could remember was his silhouette, his figure blurry and his name was always on the tip of your tongue but you could never place your finger on it.

You remember during your first check-up, the doctor had asked you if you could describe your past love,

“I'm not sure.”

Your voice had been wobbly like you were on the verge of crying. Tears had pricked your eyes, along with the feeling of not being able to breathe even though those damn flowers were gone.

Not being able to understand why?

That feeling went away a week later.

You laugh at yourself now, chiding yourself for being ridiculous back then.

At what point could you have allowed yourself to be so deeply in love with someone that it was killing you? You could never understand.

It was an absurd, abysmal idea that you had ever gotten to that point.

While the doctor said the following months would be difficult getting used to your new life of having one less emotion, you were fine.

It had helped that Nami had stayed by your side, and when she couldn’t Sanji would.

Sanji was an angel.

He tended to your every need, always made sure you didn’t lift a finger even after you told him multiple times you could do it yourself.

But he always reassured you he didn’t mind.

You were sad to hear that he stopped seeing Pudding. It was honestly too bad because she was good for him, he deserves someone who can love and care for him just as much as he cares for others.

Nevertheless, you were glad he was here for you.

The sound of music playing softly in the background comforts you as you shuffle through your kitchen making dinner.

You and Sanji have recently started having weekly dinners with each other, an idea he came up with.

“We can update each other about our lives, good ole fashion face-to-face interaction.”

“I don’t think my life is going to change too much in the week we don’t see each other, Sanji”

The sound of the door ringing pulls you from your thoughts, drying your hands with a towel, you walk over to the front door.

The cool November breeze greets you as soon as you open the door, Sanji’s figure fills your view.

The coat he’s wearing to protect himself from the wind encapsulates him in a way that makes you smile instinctively, you can see his red ears peeking from under his blond hair.

“Come in, come in, I was just finishing up dinner.”

“Oh, can I help you with anything else?” he offers while shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack beside the front door. “Or are you not allowing me into your kitchen again?” he smirks toward you.

You roll your eyes and scoff, “It’s my turn to make dinner, you cook for a living, it's my time to shine now, dude.” He chuckles and begins to set the table for the two of you.

The warm food fills the plate in your hand, placing it on the counter, you grab another plate. “So, how’s work?”

Sanji grabs both of the plates and brings them to the table, setting them down, he looks back at you. “Ah, the old man’s got me working late most days.”

You smile softly at the scene; since you can remember you and Sanji have been able to work in tandem. Back when Nami first introduced you, it was like a pull connecting the two of you, also guiding and leading the two of you in perfect harmony.

It was nice.

Finishing your dinner, Sanji grabs his cup, “That was delicious, thank you.”

“Well I did have a decent teacher,” you say into the glass smiling, gulping down the liquid you set it back down and look at Sanji.

He goes to say something before he’s interrupted by a cough.

Sanji turns his head and coughs into a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket, he quickly wipes his mouth before looking back at you, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Shaking your head in acknowledgement you begin cleaning up the dinner table.

“Oh I forgot, I bought flowers, they’re in the living room let me grab them real quick.” Sanji stands quickly.

Turning, you watch him walk away, not catching the lone petal falling out of his pocket.

♡‧₊˚

Vinsmoke Sanji has done a lot of things.

Some of which he regrets, but others he stands by, but there was one that met both criteria.

And that was you.

He was glad he met you, that he was able to spend time being with you, loving you, and knowing that you loved him back.

But he regrets hurting you. He regrets letting himself be temporarily infatuated with Pudding. Sanji had laughed in the face of fate, and in return, he got what he deserved.

His impending end.

The petals had shown up the day you went into the hospital.

While you were given a second chance at life, Sanji had just signed his away.

He remembers the memory of Nami telling him what had happened. He had it permanently seared into his brain, never allowing himself to forget the moment.

Her eyes were red, face hot with anger when she pulled up to his house.

“You absolute idiot.” He hadn’t even fully opened the door before she was swearing at him, cursing him to the ends of the earth over what he had done. “You did this. You caused that pain…if I hadn't found her…,” her hands had started punching his chest.

“She would have been gone, all because of you.”

A part of Sanji died that day.

So when he got the same disease you had, he knew he deserved it.

Wasn’t it only right that he got the same death sentence that almost took you away?

It was slow at first, from what Nami had told him about your situation, Sanji knew this was how it started.

The first few weeks were bearable, he could go about his daily life without causing any suspicion. No one would ask if he was okay or anything, just simply being able to cough into a tissue and discard it quickly.

Then the blossoms came.

After one terrible night of constantly coughing up blood and flower blossoms, Sanji did some research. He knew the full blooms were next along with the finishing blow of the roots. It had only been a month since you had your surgery, and yet his hanahaki was a lot more accelerated in comparison to yours.

A month since he had realized he was deathly in love with you.

But he could bear this burden. Who was he to complain about his death trickling closer than it normally should?

Sanji remembered the moment he realized his disease would finish him more swiftly, that he was faster along than he typically should be; whether it was because the universe knew you could never love him back or it was simply his punishment for what he did.

Probably both.

Even though he knew he could easily fix the problem, he didn't have the right to get a second chance.

How could he?

How long did you spend hiding your condition away, not even when he had broken things off, before then? How long were you hurting because you knew he was lying when he said he loved you?

The gall he would have to have to go through with the surgery?

Absolutely not.

But deep in his heart, he also couldn’t bring himself to forget you. He’d rather be a coward and a liar than choose a life undeserving of him.

He would rather die than forget you, to never be able to love you again would be death itself.

He hated himself for what he did to you. The insolence he had to hurt someone as caring as you, why did he take advantage of that?

He himself every day.

If he had to live with constantly coughing up blood and bending over the toilet puking up flower petals just for you to live your life? Yeah, he could do that. He could live with the pain of knowing that you would never love him back.

That you could never love him back.

It quite literally was in human nature that he would never be saved unless he did the surgery, since you couldn’t even love anyone anymore.

Sanji’s hand lifts his handkerchief up to his mouth, his body heaving with a hard cough of petals.

He sighs.

♡‧₊˚

The TV light shines on both you and Sanji’s forms as the movie comes to an end, the ending credits miniaturizing as the screen recommends a shitty Christmas movie that has the both of you turning to the other.

“That was an unnecessarily long movie.” Sanji’s comment makes you laugh.

“Right? God, it was dragging on for a really long time.” Shaking his head he stands up to place the popcorn bucket on the kitchen counter.

You follow him holding the cups that held lemonade two hours ago. “It’s getting late, I should probably go.”

“Yeah, probably, oh wait-I bought something for you, meant to give it to you when we had dinner at your place but I forgot.” Sanji’s voice trails as he goes off to his bedroom.

You stand there for a couple of minutes before checking the time, “Yo, Sanji, did’ya get lost?” laughing to yourself, you walk over into the bedroom. Your eyes immediately meet Sanji’s form hunched over on the ground.

A gasp falls from your lips as you rush over to him. “Sanji, oh god, are you okay what’s wrong-”

You cut yourself off when you bend down to look at him, there you see a pool of blood on the hardwood floor, petals scattered around the scene with a full flower bloom sitting in his hands.

“What?” you can’t breathe.

Sanji says your name but you don’t hear him, your brows knit together as you look up at him. “I don’t understand why are you coughing up petals?”

No? This couldn’t be happening.

Your heart breaks.

Who did Sanji love so dearly that he was cursed with the same disease that had you in its chokehold not long ago?

You would never wish this on anyone, no one deserved to live through the hurt of having unrequited love.

“You weren’t,” he wipes his mouth, “you weren’t supposed to find out.”

“I don’t-why wouldn't you want to tell me? If anything, I’d be the only person able to understand. Sanji, who is it?” your eyes scan his face.

Sanji’s ragged breathing fills the air between the two of you. “I can’t.”

You furrow your brows even more, shaking your head. “Please just tell me so I can help-”

“You can’t.”

“What do you mean, I can’t? You’re not making sense.”

Sanji closes his eyes. “It’s you.”

You stop breathing, the figure in your memory rushes to the forefront of your brain like a tsunami.

In the past the figure was always blurry, never in frame in your mind, only being able to trace his silhouette, but now it was different.

It was like he was right in front of you like you could smell him, feel his hands in yours, his warmth. Feel his lips against your lips when he-

“It was you.” your voice was quiet, “You were the one I loved.”

His eyes snap at yours, a gasp falling from his lips.

“The person I loved so deeply… that it caused me so much pain.”

And there it was, the fog had been lifted.

“How could I have forgotten?” How ironic the entire thing was.

“Why would I ever forget about my love for you, Sanji?” you look at him, “What grief did you cause me?”

A tidal wave of emotions, affections, all poured out of your soul and into your memories. The months of coughing up petal after petal till they turned to full flower blooms. The fear that a root would pop up once you pulled your tissue from your face.

The pain and the hurt that Sanji had caused you.

The pain of knowing that he didn't love you anymore.

It all came rushing back.

“Why would you keep this from me?” you were getting angry, but was it for the right reason?

Hadn’t you done the same with him? Hadn’t you kept it from all the people you loved as well?

“You know why I went through with the surgery? It wasn’t Nami who made me, well not partially, but why I allowed myself to let her drive me to the hospital was because I didn't want you to suffer.” your eyes were burning, the tears threatening to fall.

“I don't understand?” Of course, he wouldn’t.

“You were obviously unhappy, Sanji. If I removed myself from the equation, it would solve everything and at…at first I thought dying was the solution I really did.” your eyes drop, “And maybe Nami finding me was a saving grace but, I originally wasn't gonna do anything.”

“Week after week, Sanji, I was drowning. I wanted to yell at anyone who would listen and ask why I couldn't have anything, why couldn’t I be happy? That the universe had some sort of fucking vendetta against me.”

“So I decided to let you go, to choose to live a life of unknown heartache, and when I finally thought I had accomplished that. The universe just spits in my face by cursing you.”

“Don’t you see it? We don’t belong together, Sanji.” The anger was gone now, all that was left was emptiness.“We have the signs, we need to heed them and move on.”

Sanji says your name with a plea, but you ignore him. “Just get the surgery, stop hurting the both of us.”

“It does us no good if you're dead.” And with that, you walk out of the bedroom and out the front door.

♡‧₊˚

The quiet murmurs of the newscaster talking about the weather for the week could barely be heard from the running water you were using to wash the dishes.

You haven't seen Sanji in a couple of weeks, not since he announced that you were the one whom he was in love with.

And definitely not since you remembered he was the one whom you had loved before.

And while at first, you were angry. Angry at him for lying and keeping such vital information from you.

It later turned to guilt.

Guilt for getting angry at him. Guilt for causing him pain.

But it wasn’t your fault, it’s not like you chose not to love him, you physically couldn’t anymore. You signed that ability off months ago.

But you also missed him. Since you weren’t talking to him, you weren’t having your weekly dinners or your impromptu movie nights anymore.

You missed just talking to him. You missed the lame jokes he’d tell in hopes of hearing your laugh, that smile he’d get whenever he spoke about a new recipe.

You missed him.

But you were also confused.

After he had revealed that he loved you and you had remembered that your past love was him, it became too much for you to handle.

Glancing at the moon, you dry your hands on a towel and walk into the living room. The weatherman was currently informing you of a chance of rain tomorrow during the already cold late January weather.

Sighing you go to sit down before something catches your eyes. A picture frame that hangs on your wall glints as you walk toward it.

It was a photo of you and Sanji looking at the camera with wide smiles on display from Sanji’s birthday two years prior. On top of your heads sat a birthday hat colored blue for the sea theme your friends had thrown together as a joke for the blonde that year.

You remember how you felt that day, the anxiety of wanting to get Sanji the perfect gift and when he finally opened it, he had hugged you which had you blushing like crazy while you swatted his “thank yous” away.

God, where did this deja vu come from?

It was weird, you weren't sure what it was.

It felt like your entire being was full. Full of intense and overwhelming emotions, an emotion you shouldn't feel. An emotion that was eradicated from your life when you stepped out of that hospital.

But here it was, rearing its big ugly face once again.

For Sanji.

You stumble back as if you had been shocked with electricity.

Looking around your apartment you close your eyes.

How could this happen? Why were you still being punished again?

You had endured the pain, chose to get rid of it and now you’ve been having to live with knowing that Sanji also was experiencing the exact same pain.

Sanji.

How could you have been so cold? Telling him to do the surgery? What was wrong with you?

You missed him. You missed your love for him. The feelings you’d get when he’d look your way. Sanji was your ambrosia and you needed him to survive.

But you didn’t miss how you felt when he chose another over you. Those feelings you wished you hadn’t remembered.

You weren't sure how you were still able to feel Sanji's love. But here you were.

An anomaly that you were.

Guess that shows how deep your love truly was rooted.

How could you have allowed yourself to forget?

The drive to Sanji’s apartment was quiet, opting to not play music or turn the radio on so that you could think clearly with your new (re) developed emotions.

Pulling up to the driveway, you step out of your car. The jacket you have on trapping your heat from the cold winds of the night.

The few steps to the front door felt like a lifetime. The moonlight provided a little comfort to your restless self.

Exhaling, you bring your hand to knock at the door, a small part of you hoping Sanji wasn’t home so you could go home and pretend like nothing happened.

The door swings open revealing Sanji. His eyes were wide like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him.

“Hey…can I come in?” you look up at him expectantly.

“Yeah, yeah come in.” Sending him a quick smile you walk past him and into the living room.

He shuts the door and faces you, you turn and finally get a good look at him in the light.

He looked worse for wear, his eyes had bags under them, a sign he hadn’t been sleeping if at all. Whether that was because of your argument or his condition, you didn't know. One hand was in his pocket and the other was fiddling with his handkerchief.

“How are you…” signaling your hand at him, “I mean physically, how are you? What stage?”

He looks away, “well…I’m still living,” he chuckles quietly.

You sigh.

God the two of you were truly messed up.

“It all came back.”

“What?” he questions.

Your eyes begin to glaze over, “My memories, everything.” you wet your lips, “All of it, Sanji.”

“It just-all came back…on top of our argument, of you telling me you loved me.” Tears fell down your cheeks. “Of how I felt when you were-when you were with Pudding.”

He says your name.

“And I hated it, I hated remembering how I felt, Sanji. I remember pitying myself, wondering what I had done wrong, why you hadn’t loved me anymore,” he says your name again, “but I also remembered how I felt loving you.” you look up at him with your tear-streaked face.

“And I will never regret loving you, not then, definitely not now. I also don’t regret forgetting, because I understand why I did it. I loved you enough to be able to let you go. To be able to know you’ll live your life happily, whether that’s with me or someone else. I didn’t care. Just that you were happy.”

“But I wasn’t-”

You cut him off, “I knew you didn't love me how I loved you, but I still knew you cared. So if I had died, even from death, I would have hated myself for hurting you. So I chose to forget.” you wipe your cheek, “I just wish you had never gotten that godforsaken thing as well.”

“Sanji I…I love you wholeheartedly. You encompass my entire existence. I live for you. Even now, when I didn't remember how I felt for you. It was there. My love for you was still inside. And it always will be. I think even if you hadn’t told me you loved me now, I would have remembered anyway. Simply because that’s who I am, I am my love for you, you consume my entire soul.” You probably looked like a mess.

“You look beautiful.” Did you say that out loud?

You smile softly, “So when you admitted that you loved me, that I was inadvertently hurting you, I couldn’t take it. I had been the monster I sought to eliminate. So I pushed you away.” you sigh, “I pushed you away because I didn't want to go through the same pain again. I was selfish if you had just done the surgery, I'd be able to forget about this again and you wouldn't even remember.” you walk toward Sanji. “I’ve learned that I can’t run away from you anymore. And I’ve realized that I don’t want to lose you again.”

“So let me save you.”

Sanji’s face was red, his eyes were blurry with tears, his fist clenching his handkerchief filled with petals and blooms.

“I’m so sorry.” Sanji’s voice trembles, “I am so sorry, I caused you so much pain, if I could take it back I would. And I don’t even deserve you, I’m not worthy of your love, but if you allow me, let me make it up.”

You close the gap between the two of you and pull his lips toward your own. They’re slightly chapped and both of your guy’s faces are wet but you don’t care. You feel his fingers carding through your hair, pulling you deeper.

This kiss was different from any others before, this one was filled with desire and want but it was also filled with joy and love.

You were finally happy.

You pull away first, breathing heavily and your face flushed, “You already are.”

“I love you so much, please never forget.” you wipe a stray tear, cradling his face.

You want to commit this memory in your brain. No more forgetting, no more letting go. To make sure that for the night, no cough was to be heard, no petal was to be hidden,

just two lovers finally with one another, forever.

#astraariel♡#one piece #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n

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tootiecakes234 · 6 months

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The Bet (Part 3)

Warnings: smut, MDNI

Katsuki’s POV

Day 2:

When I fell asleep last night she was on one side of the bed and I was on the other. I did that on purpose cuz it sucks waking up with my dick hard and pressed against her. Having to peel myself away with no satisfaction.

So imagine my surprise when I wake up in the exact position I was trying to avoid. I think i might’ve been rutting against her before I woke cuz I’m leaking precum and tucked between her thighs. Fuck me.

I have patrol early this morning, so I force myself to get up take a very long, very cold shower. This bet was kicking my ass. The fact that I couldn’t fuck her only made me want to do it more.

I was so thankful for work today because at least it gave me a distraction.

I got dressed, made myself a quick breakfast and headed out.

I was on patrol with one of my sidekicks this morning. She was really capable and I trusted her so it was more so that I was supervising and teaching instead of taking lead. It was pretty slow for a Sunday actually.

Everything was going so smoothly until I suddenly get a text on my personal phone. I knew it was from Y/N before I even pulled it out because she had taken my phone and given herself her own special ringtone.

I open the message and almost drop and shatter my goddamn phone.

“Mr. Bakugo, are you ok??”, my side kick was looking at me like I was crazy. I could feel the flush from my toes up to the top of my damn head.

“ ‘m fine. Stay sharp and holler if you need me. I gotta make a call”, I said starting to walk away.

I heard her call out a “yessir”

The phone rang one time before she answered my call.

“Hey Katsuki. What’s up?”, she had the nerve to ask that like she didn’t know why I was calling her!

“Y/N…. You’ve lost your goddamn mind. I’m at work! Saving lives! And you’re sending me nudes!!”, I was scream yelling because there were people walking by.

“Are you saying you don’t like them? I got all dolled up for you and it took a lot of work to get an angle where you could see…. Everything.”, her voice had dropped down to this sultry tone.

My cock was starting to harden. She’s stepped up her game.

“Ha you’re good. You caught me off guard with this. And yea I like the picture… any angle that shows that pretty pussy of mine is a good angle.”

“Mmmm I’m glad you like it. I wanted to brighten up your day.”

“You think you’re so smart huh? You’re playing with fire sweet girl. You’re gonna end up with a burn mark on your ass”, my voice had dropped a few octaves.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time Kats.”

“Not a fucking threat princess, it’s a promise… coming. Hey I’ve gotta go. Don’t forget about that reservation tonight. Love ya.” Then I cut the line. I had to get back to work.

I can’t let her win. I won’t let her distract me any further. I can’t believe she had the nerve to call me the devil. She was in for it whenever I got home.

The rest of my day at work flew by. I was there later than I expected because I was catching up on paperwork, so I was rushing to get home in time to change before our reservations.

I got home and Y/N wasn’t in the front room. I just know this woman isn’t still getting ready. I was already rushing and she’s had all day to be prepared for this. I pushed open the door to our room and before me was picture out of a fucking wet dream.

If I died and this was the last thing I saw, I’d die happy. It took her calling my name rather loudly maybe more than once before I snapped out of it.

“What?? What did you say?”

“I said you’ve gotta hurry and change or we are going to be late”, she said and she was sporting the cockiest smirk I’ve ever seen on her face.

“That’s what you’re wearing?”, I asked her just to clarify.

This woman had on a red dress, my favorite color. Her boobs were perched high in her chest and that dress looked like it was made just for her. She also had on these strappy, black heels that wrapped up her calves. Her hair was pinned up and she had on this red lipstick that matched that dress perfectly.

Fuck me. I think she was trying to kill me.

“This old thing…. I figured I’d finally pull it out of the closet.”

“Y/N I know all your clothes. This dress is new.”

“Whoops, you’ve caught me in a lie…I hung out with Mina today and we stumbled across this. I thought you might like it”, the shit eating grin on her face was the only thing keeping me from sinking to my knees right then and there. I was not going to give her the satisfaction of caving now.

“Yea it looks nice enough”, I huffed at her, “I’m gonna hurry up and get ready so we can leave.”

I walked past her and smelled her. She was also wearing my favorite sent of hers. She pulled out all the big guns. She thinks tonight going to be the night she gets me.

Well she’s got another thing coming.

But first… another cold shower. I’m only human.

While I was getting ready, I remembered that she loves seeing me in a button up and apparently white brings out my eyes or some shit. So I put on a white button up, black jeans and a pair of black tennis shoes she’d bought me for my birthday. I threw on my gold chain and a couple rings on my fingers. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna be the only one foaming at the mouth.

I walk out of the room and she’s sitting at the bar with her back to me.

“You ready to go?”

She turned around to look at me and she thought I didn’t see the way her eyes glossed a little and her breath hitched. She tried to hurry and cover it with a small smile on her lips. She hopped down out of her seat and grabbed her purse, which must go with her outfit because lord knows she doesn’t need it.

“Yup let’s hit it hot stuff”

“Wait”, I walked over to her and wrapped one of my arms around her waist and my other hand reached to tip her face up toward me. “Wanna kiss you, don’t wanna fuck up your makeup.”

“One kiss won’t ruin my makeup”, she said all soft and breathy.

“Mmmm it will the way I want to do it.”, I pulled away from her enough to grab her hand and bring her knuckles up to my lips. I kissed each individual knuckle before kissing her wrist and pressing a few more up the length of her forearm. I locked eyes with her once more, “ let’s go princess, we are running late.”

I interlocked our fingers and guided her out to the car. I opened her door and help her buckle up before walking to the other side and hopping in.

Payback time.

For some reason I don’t understand, y/n told me she thinks it’s so hot when I turn my whole body around when I back up. I have a back up camera but you bet your sweet ass tonight, I was turning around and flexing slightly while doing so.

On the drive there a slid my hand over her thigh, which I always did, but tonight I might’ve placed it a little higher than usual.

“Katsuki, can you cut it out?”, she said as she placed her hand over mine and stopped the slow circles I was drawing with my thumb.

“Cut what out baby,” I said glancing over at her.

“We both know what you’re doing.”, she was clenching her jaw as well as slightly squeezing her thighs. She glanced down at my hand like she was trying to send me a message.

Oblivious was the best way to go here, “is my hand bothering you? You’ve never complained about it before.”

“Yea probably cuz it wasn’t resting 2 cm away from my vagina.”

“Haha, yea I am kinda close aren’t I? I can feel the heat coming off of it and I’m sure if I slid those 2 cm I could feel how wet you are too.” Right after I finish saying it I slid my hand up and let me pinky rub lightly over her panties and look there. Drenched. She winced like she was in pain.

“Kat!” She said my voice on a moan. Fuck, she was so sensitive.

“Sorry, my hand slipped cuz of that pothole”, I whispered.

“There was no freaking pothole. You’re such an ass”, she tried to grab my hand and take it off her thigh, but this only made me dig a little deeper and press a little harder up against her.

By this point we were pulling up to the restaurant. Lucky her.

When we got out of the car, her panties were soaked and I had to rearrange myself to even be able to walk inside this place.

By this point we were both miserable and unsatisfied. This bet is such bullshit. Whose bright idea was it to do this?

We were at one of our favorite restaurants. When I made the reservation I made it for a booth in the back because this place tended to be really crowded and I didn’t want to be spotted.

We got seated and the conversation started to flow.

“Mina said that she thinks Sero has a secret girlfriend. Has he said anything to you about it?”

“No and even if he did why would I tell you. It’d be a secret for a reason. The two of you are the biggest goss-” I almost fucking choked on my own spit.

“Are you ok Kat? What’s wrong?”, she looked at me like she was genuinely concerned for my well being and not like she just almost caused my death.

She had taken off one of her shoes and her foot was now pressed up against my inner thigh. Before I have time to respond, our waiter is back at our table taking our orders.

The entire time he’s there, she’s gently stroking her foot up and down and at what point it brushes up against my cock and I fumble over my words.

The waiter just laughs it off like I’m just some idiot having a stroke and when I look over at y/n she has the nerve to be laughing too.

When he finally leaves she takes her foot back and continues on like nothing happened.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom. Brb.” She said as she started getting up.

I just nodded my head at her. I needed time to get my shit together. This is not going well. I have to get a handle on this situation and fast, but she came back to fast. I didn’t have time to prepare anything.

The rest of dinner went off without any problems though. Maybe she was struggling just as bad as me. Maybe we were going to call it for tonight.

Wishful thinking.

While we are outside, waiting for the valet to pull the car up, y/n comes up real close to me slides something into my pants pocket. When she pulls back there’s a smirk on her lips.

“What the fuck is that?” And all she does is shrug at me.

When I reach down and start pulling it out, I realize very quickly that it’s her panties. Her damp panties.

“ Y/n when did you take these off?”, my voice came out like I was growling. My self restraint is hanging on by a thread.

“When I went to the bathroom earlier.” She then came up to me wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me.

My hands automatically grab at her ass because that’s what they’ve been wanting to do all night.

She could be a siren. I could actually know for a fact that she is a siren and at this point I’d happily walk my dumbass into the ocean and let her drown me.

I feel like I’m in a trance and the only thing that breaks it is the valet driver clearing his throat to get our attention.

The drive home is quiet. I don’t attempt to tease her any further because if I put my hands on her again I know I won’t stop. I’ve gotta try and get home. Lock myself in my office. That’s my game plan.

Tell her I have some work to do and just stay in there until she’s asleep because I’m at my breaking point.

Initially the plans going great. We get in the house, I hurry up and change, and then head to my office.

Done. Easy. I survived another day and tomorrow she’ll have work so it can’t possibly be this bad.

That is until I hear a little knock on my office door.

“Come in.”

“Hey, how long are you going to be working?”, she asked.

She’d changed too, into an oversized tshirt and she had her little fuzzy slippers on. Fucking adorable.

“‘M not sure. I’ve got a few things I need to get done tonight. Why are you still up?”

She walks over to me looks at me expectantly. I push my chair back from my desk enough for her to slide into my lap.

“Kats”

“Hmm?”

“Are you miserable too? This bet is stupid and I’ve been hot and bothered all day.”, she was mumbling against the side of my head.

“You went out of your way today to make sure I was miserable you heathen. My dick has been at least half hard since I woke and blue balls doesn’t even begin to describe the shit I’m going through.”

She has the nerve to chuckle at that but it wasn’t a damn joke.

“Is that why you’re in here pretending to work? Cuz you don’t wanna come to bed with me?”

“Y/n I-“ her lips cut me off. She moved so fast. She went from sitting on one leg to straddling me. I could feel her tits pressed up against and with the way her pussy was radiating heat against my sweats, I could tell she had no panties on.

She was grinding down against me and her tongue was in my mouth.

The next thing I know one of my hands has slipped past her shirt in the back and is rubbing her wetness around. And do I fucking mean wet. I’m sure there’s a big ass spot on the front of my pants. The other hand is tweaking her nipples. She’s a whimpering mess now and I’m panting like I just finished running a marathon.

“K-kit Kat…we have to stop”

“Say it… say it and let me fuck you. You know you want it.”, I started pressing sloppy kisses all up and down her neck and I was running slow circles around her clit, “say it.”

She’s right there, on the brink. I can tell it’s on the tip of her tongue and right when I think she’s going to actually do it, shes jumping off my lap like I’m on fire.

“What? Where the hell are you going?”, I was so sure this was it. I could taste the victory on my tongue.

“I-I’m g-going to bed.” She was trying to get her breathing under control just like I was.

She started making her way out of this office. She was really going to leave like this.

What the actual fuck?

“Please” I didnt comprehend until after I said it that I had already sunk to my knees. The word flew out of my mouth as soon as I saw her hand on the door handle.

I’d fucking lost.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

*my first trying to write in someone else’s pov… so don’t be mean.

Also I got carried away and I know this is super duper long.

There will be a part 4 with the smut. It will be be back to readers POV.

Enjoy.

#imagine #bakugou x reader #mha fanfiction #bakugou drabble #drabble #katsuki bakugo mha #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo headcanons #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki smut #mha smut #bnha smut

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woodland-gremlin · 1 month

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How to Adopt Your Clone Pt. 1 (Adoption AU)

Elle loves flying. The way the wind whips around her, the weightlessness of it, how small everything looks so high up, and most of all how freeing it is.When she is up in the air she is free, safe, away from everything that hurts her and tries to drag her down into their control. Free, never being tied down and forced into a role she never wanted. Free, able to go from place to place, exploring a world that was kept from her. Free to be herself, to learn what she wants and who she is. Ellie truly loved flying and the freedom it offers down to her very core. She wouldn’t trade it for anything, much less anything that the Fruitloop offered.

She was just so lonely. She has traveled far and wide, exploring different cultures, meeting new people, and learning about the world that the oldest Halfa hid from her. That is how she learned he lied to her more than she thought. While somewhere like the horror stories he told her most were nothing like he said. The people she met and spoke to were as wide and diverse as the sea. Some were tall and strong, while others were small and sneaky. Some knew so much she didn’t know how they fit everything in their head, then some may have not known as much but were no less clever. Some remind her of the Creep and why she left, yet others remind her of her template, Danny.

It seemed like that no matter where she went she saw something that reminded her of the first person to accept her. An observatory telling her all about space and the stars he endlessly spoke about. A mechanic down on his luck. A kid in highschool that was stressed about finals.The kind old lady that gave her the last of her own food to her because she noticed she was hungry. Someone told a ridiculous pun that made everyone groan. Another that saved a cat from a tree. Even seeing someone with black hair with either blue or green eyes made her turn her head and do a double take.

The worst was when another hero saved the day. She never stayed for too long when that happened, it made her bitter. Bitter to hear of a hero that claimed that they could hear a cry for help from across the world but never bothered to save her. Where was he when she and her siblings were being abused by a madman? When her sibling kept dying, only to be replaced by another as if they were objects? When she was being manipulated into betraying one of the only people that was treated with kindness?

In the end it was her own template that was the one to save her, not some boy scout who thought it was a good idea to wear his underwear over his other clothes. Her own template who had every reason to hate her after everything that had happened but instead looked her in the eye and said she was family. Who offered to risk his own freedom, his own safety, for the one-in-the-million chance his parents would accept and she would have a safe place to stay. Who saw her as her own person, even helping her come up with a new name after she offhandedly mentioned that she hated the one Knock-off Vampire gave her. Who made a grave for his siblings and worked to give each of them names after she chose her own. Who saw each and everyone as their own person, not just a failed copy that Cliche Money Bags saw us as. Who mourned them, who grieved the lives that they never got to experience, that he was too late to save them.

Danny was a hero, much more than the League of Idiots who can’t even see what is right in front of them. She doubts that they would treat her or her siblings even half as well as Danny, much less if they were clones of them.

#danny phantom #dcu #dcxdp #dp + dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton #ghost king danny #danni phantom #ellie phantom #danielle “danni” phantom is called ellie #adoption au #vlad plasmius #justice league #superman #Vlad Masters #clones

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jamiedc-they-them · 2 months

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Blood and Water (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: "can i request a Stilgar x child reader? basically Child reader (8 years old) escapes into the desert with their parents because the harkonens are hutning them down, (reader and their parents left the city because readers parents found a weak spot in the citys foundation that can lead to a rebellion or something like that), the harkonens catch up and readers parents stay behind to give reader time to escape, child reader does and escapes into the rocky mountains but one harkonen catches the reader and thats when Stilgar saves child reader and he is instantly protective of this little child and starts acting like a father to child reader.

if that is okay!!"

AN// Hi Anon! I hope you enjoy this piece! It's quite a long one and spiralled into it tying into Dune Parts I and II, but the central focus is still Stilgar and R's bond! I also had Chani be there as well due to the Tribe as a whole. Thank you for the request! <3

SPOILERS FOR DUNE PART II

Your parents raised you well. They taught you about the Harkonnens and their violent oppression of you and your people. They told you, as well, about the Fremen – in terms of different beliefs and territories.

You were young, about 8 when they died. You were forced to flee when your parents were discovered. Word got to them from friends, but you weren’t quick enough. Your mother held your hand tightly as you ran, your father already had stayed behind. But, despite your age, you know what it means that the Harkonnen’s are still behind you.

He’s died.

Your mother gets you to an exit, a small gap you used to crawl through when younger with friends. Friends you haven’t seen in a while. Maybe they’re dead, too.

“You have to go,” your mother tells you, cupping your face in her hands, “you have to live.”

“What about you?” You ask back, tears running down your face.

Your mother wipes your tears, “do not shed your water, my child,” she says, “not even for the dead.”

“Will – will I see you —?” You don’t get to answer your question, as a knife is stabbed through your mother’s chest. You fall back, on instinct diving through the hole in the wall. A hand grabs you, you just about escape the grip.

You’re out now. Out of a Arrakeen and in the desert itself. You immediately feel the heat, not used to being exposed to it so bluntly.

You hear something above you, an Ornithopter. You can’t outrun these, you’ve seen how fast they can go.

Still, as fast your legs will take you, you run. You run for all the worth that your water has.

You don’t even feel the vibrations on the sand at first. To you, it’s just the vibrations from the Ornithopter above. That is, until you hear it. The low shriek of your god. Of Shai-Hulud, bursting out of the sand, and taking the Ornithopter down.

You don’t even realise how far you have actually made it, making it a rocky hill. Your distraction of the Sandworm appearing means that you don’t see the Harkonnen’s still chasing you on foot, and you find yourself being tackled to the floor. You feel your head hit something, and the world becomes a blur. You try and fight back, but with the disorientation alongside your age and size, you can only wait for the end.

Maybe some Fremen can find some use with your water, maybe that would be useful in some way.

You get your wish, sort of.

You hear voices, and clashing of blades. Then, for a moment, silence.

You fade in and out. You feel yourself being carried.

When you reopen your eyes, you’re in what your parents told you is a Sietch. You never thought you’d see one.

“Calm, child. Calm,” you hear a voice say. You look over, seeing man much older than one you have ever seen. He wears a robe, eyes blue. His voice is deep, but soft in this case, “you are safe now. You are safe.”

You look around your area, seeing no one else, but beds are here all the same.

The man seems to see your silent question, “I brought you here to rest peacefully.”

You nod, thankful in a way.

The man gets up, he holds a hand out to you, “when you are ready, join us.”

He leaves after that. You sit in your bed. You feel the emotion inside of you for the losses you have just gone through, through everything that just occurred so quickly.

But, your mother was right, don’t waste your water. You can grieve for them by fighting back. By continuing it.

You join the man, but instead find this place filled to the brim with other people. Other Fremen. Some dressed differently than others, but maybe that was just the difference between the north and south Fremen tribes your parents told you about. You never fully understood how they knew this though, given that you lived (lived is a strong word, more like just about survived) in the city under the thumb of the Harkonnen’s.

The people stop, and stare at you.

You hear a girl clear her throat, she looks at you – almost doing calculations in her mind – before turning to the group, “Stilgar,” she calls out.

The crowd part as the man from before, now known to you as Stilgar, approaches you.

“Are you well, child?”

You nod. He does as well.

“Come. Chani,” the girl who was looking at you before looks to Stilgar, “fetch the child some food, please?”

She nods, silently going to do so.

Stilgar puts a hand on your shoulder, “come child. There is a lot to discuss.”

Despite your young age, he treats you like a person rather than a young child. Part of you likes that.

He takes you to a corner as everyone starts to eat. Chani hands you some food, before going to join her friends.

“Don’t mind Chani,” Stilgar says, “she is weary of new-comers. She will ease to you with time.”

You nod. You know it’s supposed to be comforting, but it just once again reminds you of your parents.

Stilgar sighs, putting his bowl down and looking at you, “you will be safe with us.”

“My parents…their water…”

“Arrakeen is not a place so easily entered. But, if we can, we shall try and retrieve what we can. We did that with the Harkonnen’s you had following you. It was contaminated, but it does still have uses.”

You nod, at least they got something out of this.

“Why were you so close to the city?”

Stilgar is impressed. Young, but inquisitive.

“We did not mean to be,” he admits, “we heard commotion, and saw Shai-Hulud, so followed and found you.”

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank us. You are Fremen, we are all equal here.”

You look around at these people, your people. You are such a small part of a massive place.

“My parents fought back against the Harkonnen’s,” Stilgar nods, seemingly knowing this, “do you think I could help?”

He smiles and nods, “we will show you the ways of the desert.”

He does. They all do. Chani starts to learn how to fight, and so Stilgar has her be the one who teaches you the most. You’re both decently close in age, so it allows you both to know someone else as well in the tribe.

Stilgar also teaches you about the prophecy and legends that are more so within the southern tribes. About Lisan Al-Giab (or “The Voice From the Outer World”). One who will come down and lead you all to victory and bring Arrakis back to glory.

You notice more about the divide between the North and South tribes in regards to this one time when you are training with Chani:

“Stilgar keeps telling me about the Lisan Al-Giab,” you say, as you and Chani lock training blades.

“It’s superstition. A prophecy all about control and imbalance. A story.”

“How can you be so sure?” You don’t entirely believe it yourself – despite the hope it can give you sometimes, that all this isn’t for nothing – and yet you find yourself defending your closest companion here despite that.

Even Chani notices that within you, “how can you be that you this person will show up?”

It stays with you. However, despite that, you remain close to Stilgar. He teaches you all he can, both through action – like helping you craft your Cysknife or learning the ways to traverse the Dunes without alerting the Worms – and words – telling you about the Fremen ways and legends passed down through time.

He makes sure you’re fed, and always helps you with your Stillsuit, making sure it is secure. If he has to fix something with it, he explains what the error is. With food and water, if he has any spare, he gives it to you. He’s a guiding figure in your life. He is the one who took you in after all. He’s taught you all he’s known. He’s given you something you once thought lost:

A family.

That family all cheers for you when you successfully ride a Sandworm on your own. It’s not massive, but it’s big enough. Stilgar hugs you tightly, and proudly proclaims you as his child, and a sibling of the tribe. The tribe had always teased him for the fatherly ways he had with you, but now it was done in a genuine way. They all celebrate you that night.

Before you know it, several years have gone by. You have fought back how you can. Sometimes big things, like destroying Carryall’s or Harvesters in big assaults, or by eliminating a squad of Harkonnen’s.

Stilgar, as time goes on, still holds that protectiveness, but also knows you can hold your own. You’re equal. Father and child, working in sync, both learning from each other – him in terms of your creativity and your thoughts on the planet and plans (being equals, all opinions are taken in, but your ones are ones they listen to more). For you, it’s learning how to survive and about your people and the history of this planet. Sometimes it's found by what other Fremen have left behind, sometimes it’s stories from him.

Then you all meet someone new: Paul and Jessica Atreides.

Stilgar looks to you and Chani – you’re weary of this outsider, but if he wins against Jamis, then he has earned his place.

“Why did I never have to fight?” You asked Stilgar as Jamis and Paul prepare.

“Because, I took you as my charge,” Stilgar answers, “you were my child when I chose that. I am also Niab, no one could challenge me on it, either.”

You don’t waste your water, but he can tell it has meaning to you. He just gives a nod.

Paul wins his battle. You don’t acknowledge it until it’s too late, but you feel something shift within your father.

At first, Paul and Jessica follow you for mere survival. But, things soon start to change, especially Jamis’ water is collected. Jessica drinks the water of life and…survives; and Paul starts picking up on more and more Fremen techniques like they were his own.

Stilgar starts to drift away from you. He still cares about you and checks in with you everything, but you can feel him pulling away.

Even Chani, your closest friend in the tribe, begins to pull away. But, she doesn’t believe as much within Lisan Al-Giab as she does instead Paul himself and his ability to help you all

One night, when you sit on a Dune, looking out at your home planet, she joins you.

“Something’s different, Chani,” you confess.

“I know,” she says, “but they can help us.”

“Your love for Paul blinds you.”

“And your loyalty to Stilgar blinds you.”

“We are Fremen, Chani. We are family and tribe. He is — he is not.”

“He will be Fremen. Tomorrow.”

You don’t hate Paul, he’s listened to you and helped you – it’s Jessica, the Bene Gesserit Witch, that you don’t trust. She’s pulling strings, you just can’t see them.

“I’m sorry,” you say to your best friend, “I’m not angry at you.”

“I know,” she says, “I’m not angry at your or Stilgar. Well, maybe Stil a little,” you chuckle a bit, “but, he loves you, Y/N. He loves all of us. He’s our Niab, he won’t let anything happen to us.”

You nod, “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

Chani understands your concerns but doesn’t voice them (she wishes she did later).

The night before Paul’s Sandworm test, you go and find Stilgar.

“What troubles you, child?” He asks. Despite being in your teens now, he still refers to you that way. A reminder of the home you always have with him.

“I’m worried for Paul,” and you, you want to say, but can’t find it in yourself to say it.

Stilgar nods, “I am too. But, I was when I also sent you out on your own ride, and the other tests. But, you survived, and so shall he.”

“How can you be sure?”

“He is Lisan Al-Giab.”

“But I am not.”

His eyes dart to you, “no, you are not. You are my child. You have my knowledge, but your own strength. It was why you have survived.”

Despite the growing distance, you smile at his words.

The day of Paul’s ride comes, and even your eyes widen at the size of the worm. Even you cheer when he masters it in the end. Even you, for a moment, believe. But, you then look to your father, and how wide his eyes are. How taken he is by this legend, by the faith he had in this story; in what the rewards would be in the end.

Your smile dims a bit.

Paul wants revenge? Understandable, so do you for your parents and all other fallen Fremen – but, with the influence Paul is having over your tribe, with the followers he is gathering and the army he is building up in his name alone of Maud’dib - or, more importantly, Lisan Al-Giab – it scares you. You want freedom and revenge, but you also want to know what would be next. This freedom is for your people, not Paul. He’s even reuniting with people, Gurney Halleck, a brilliant fighter and musician. But, once again, another outsider. This one not even proving himself, just following.

And then you find the old cache of Atreides atomic weapons. A weapon you thought banned in the universe. And yet, here you are, capturing them for you own use.

You don’t know who to turn to with your worries, your fears. Everyone has been taken in by Paul and Jessica, even Gurney. Chani, you don’t know if she is completely blinded by her love, but she hasn’t voiced anything to you yet, so you can’t be sure.

For the first time since you were 8 and on the run, you feel alone. Totally alone.

Or, not totally alone, as Chani slaps Paul as soon as he wakes after drinking from the Water of Life, and the only person she looks to is you before she leaves. She’s as alone as you are. Two people caught up in this madness.

The straw that breaks you is the Southern Tribes being forced to meet after Sietch Tabr falls. You’re glad your father gets to live, don’t get that misunderstood – but you aren’t sure if the person you are begging to see reason and stop what Paul is about to do is the man who took you in and gave you a family and a home all those years ago. You plead, even shouting “father!” To him loudly, startling the other Fremen and even almost getting yourself kicked out. It’s Gurney, of all people, who pull you down alongside Chani.

“Stay hidden, and stay quiet,” he tells you both. Chani removes his hand from your arm.

“This has nothing to do with you,” Chani spits to him.

According to him though, with his thirst for revenge, and a scar he was given, it has everything to do with him.

Paul is declared leader, officially becoming Lisan Al-Giab – all you and Chani can do is dispear and look on in horror.

When it comes to the battle plans, Paul interrupts you before you can even speak, telling you:

“I do like the idea, Y/N, I am glad you told it to me,” his vision must’ve shown him your ideas. Thus, in the meeting, you are left to be mute.

You play your role, just being in the mix of the soldiers. Everything the tribe has taught you with combat and awareness coming into play. It helps you focus. You don’t have any training of a Bene Gesserit witch, but you have your methods.

You picture each Harkonnen you kill being the ones who murdered your parents. You like to image all their water being embraced by Shia-Hulud and the sand.

You win. And all it comes down to is Paul vs Feyd-Rautha. Despite your fears, this is all your efforts have led to. You want Paul to win, but a lesser evil is still evil.

Paul does. Barely, but he wins. You see Chani’s relief. Your father proclaims once more that Paul is Lisan Al-Giab, and kneels. Everyone else follows, even the Emperor after kissing Paul’s ring.

Only yourself, Chani, and Princess Irulan stay standing.

Paul looks to you both, respect and something else in his eyes when he looks to you.

You look to your father, seeing him begging with his eyes for you to kneel. You see the horror there of what could happen to you. The care he shows once again there, but it’s too late now.

Your mind is already made up, however. Whatever happens, it will be because of your choices. Not faith. Not some false hope.

“You will come back,” Paul says, “one day, you will.”

You leave. Chani leaves after you.

You keep walking, ignoring Chani calling after you.

You love her, you do. She’s your best friend and sister. You love Stilgar, he’s your father. But you can’t be around this. You can’t sit and watch this ‘Holy War’ go on. You may be a victim of it due to your leaving. You don’t care.

You’re an orphan once again, it seems. Cast away to the unforgiving deserts of Dune. You’ve just traded in one ruler for another.

You hope you’re wrong. You don’t think you are, but you hope you are.

And maybe Paul is right; maybe one day, you will return.

But not today. And not for many more days.

You’ll see your father again though, you’re sure of that.

In one world, or the other.

So, you thank the Maker and bless them for Stilgar and the family it brought you, and then get your hooks ready and place a thumper of your own down and wait.

Wait to ride off to your next destination.

As far away from Arrakeen as you can possibly get.

You don’t shed a tear. You don’t waste your water. Not even for the dead, metaphorically or otherwise.

#Stilgar x reader #stilgar imagine #dune x reader #dune imagine #platonic headcanons #platonic!reader #platonic reader insert #dune part 2 #dune #stilgar #stilgar & reader

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rillils · 3 months

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STEVE & BUCKY'S LOVE STORY, UNABRIDGED SOMEWHAT ABRIDGED, part 2/3 (here is part 1)

picking up from where we left off:

some 65 years into the future, steve's plane is fished out of the ice, and they find him, frozen like a sexy hot-dayum popsicle, but still alive thanks to the same super serum that made him go from Smol to Lorge.

steve is thus brought back into the world, but it's a world he no longer recognizes after all these years; a world where all the people he used to know and love are long dead, and his own face has been turned into a tool for propaganda over the years. obviously, he has a hard time adjusting, and he turns to fighting again, joining this group of kinda possibly superheroes, aka the avengers.

lots of exciting new things happen, sure; but steve is still pretty miserable. until one day, a mysterious masked assassin dressed in bondage gear (but not really), and sporting one very shiny metal arm (!!!!), is sent to kill steve's sort-of-boss. and then to kill steve himself. oh no!!

in what is possibly the most gripping, most visually pleasing hand-to-hand fight sequence in the history of cinema,

(NO BUT SERIOUSLY, all jokes aside, if you've never watched it then please do bc it's!!! *shrieks* so fucking good!!!)

a fight sequence which also happened to unlock both steve's and an entire fandom's competence kink with that little sexy knife-flipping trick alone -- i know you know what i'm talking about, don't you lie to me babes--

as i was saying, steve manages to knock the mask off of his opponent's face. and who do you think appears before him? can you guess??

DING DING DING!!! EXACTLY!!! IT'S HIS LONG-LOST BAE BUCKY! who apparently doesn't recognize him??

confused and upset, steve fights to uncover the truth. turns out, the man is indeed the very same bucky he grew up with and loved. only, he didn't actually die in that tragic fall in the ravine; rather, due to the experiments performed on him while he was a war prisoner, he survived long enough to be found and captured by the enemy. who then proceeded to torture and brainwash him, using him as a tool for murder against his will, and literally putting him back in the freezer when they didn't need him.

which, as it happens, is how he stayed so young in the first place: he, uh, spent the better part of 70 years frozen. yeaaah, are the parallels paralleling or what, hmmmm?? preserved in ice like your mom's best lasagna from last week? plunging to a 'death' that isn't really a death? waking up in the future kinda screwed over? :D

ANYWAY

steve is even more devastated than before, now that he's learned that while he was asleep in the ocean, bucky was out there suffering. when he finally confronts bucky again (and it's fucking epic and also fucking heartbreaking, believe you me) steve is desperate to bring bucky, his bucky, back. knowing in his heart that his bae is still somewhere in there, no matter how deeply buried.

in the most critical moment(TM), steve chooses to stay behind, on a plane that's about to fucking blow up around them - just like bucky did for him all those years ago - because if he can't save bucky, then he'd rather die with him.

only, bucky is scared and confused af at the moment, and he attacks steve, because 1) he has a mission after all, he's supposed to kill this guy dammit, and 2) wtf is even going on here??? who IS this man, WHY does he keep saying that they've known each other their whole lives?? and WHY does bucky feel like he's actually seen him somewhere else before?????

AND HERE IS THE PIVOTAL MOMENT OF ALL PIVOTAL MOMENTS: for the first time in his life, steve refuses to fight back. like he literally drops his shield out of the plane and into the river underneath, in a very powerful and symbolic gesture, signifying his surrender: he's not going to hurt bucky anymore, no matter what. THIS FUCKER LITERALLY LETS BUCKY BEAT HIM TO A PULP, WITHOUT EVEN TRYING TO DEFEND HIMSELF, 100% ready to let bucky kill him if that's what's gonna happen here, because that's still better than living in a world where bucky's gone - a world where bucky will look at him and only see a target, or a stranger at best.

and then!!!!

no this is like, this is THE most romantic shit, okay, like you could try to convince me that it isn't for the next hundred years and i wouldn't buy it, because. BECAUSE.

at the very last moment, steve finally manages to break through bucky's brainwashing, breaking the metaphorical spell bucky was under. and do you know how he does that? i ask you, do you know how steve does that, my love?

by repeating to bucky the very same words bucky offered him way back in the beginning, when he proposed asked steve to move in together. till death do us part the end of the line, baby. romeo could NEVER

bucky, who was about to deal the fatal blow, freezes instantly, finally recognizing the man under him.

and when steve falls out of the plane, bucky jumps after him, instinctively saving his life instead.

but bucky can't stay. confused, wounded, vulnerable, and only just beginning to remember who he used to be and what was done to him, he slips away and hides from steve - and from all the other people who might be looking for him, and probably want him dead. you think this is gonna stop steve, though?? now that he knows that bucky is still alive, and that he remembers him??? now that he knows that bucky's not lost to him forever?? AS IF!!

(to be continued in part 3)

#stucky #stevebucky #i have literally no idea how to tag this but???????#the silly stucky recap you didn't ask for #part 2 :D #catws #rillers scribbles

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nightmareonpeachstreet · 4 months

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I am a loyal subscriber to the school of “Arlecchino thought Furina was a bad god for throwing her people’s lives away carelessly and lying about how powerful she is until Arle finds out the truth post-4.2, that Furina’s charade was not only vital to saving Fontaine but also something that was put upon her and she managed to endure it for 500 years despite only being human, and then Arelcchino is OBSESSED with Furina and goes from 0 to Doting Husband Who Wakes You Up With Kisses And Makes You Breakfast like, overnight.

“After a VERY confusing encounter where Arlecchino brings cake and makes tea at Furina’s new apartment and apologizes for terrorizing her and thanks her for saving Fontaine, Furina breaks down crying and basically wailing about her problems to Arlecchino, who Furina half expects to just turn her back on her at some point or reveal this was all some elaborate trick, but she doesn’t. She listens and she agrees that it was unfair and when Furina doesn’t move away when she gets closer, Arlecchino hugs her and pets her hair and tells her she did well and when Furina’s fully exhausted herself with crying and her voice is raw, Arlecchino picks her up and carries her to bed and tells her to rest. Furina, tired and so relieved to have someone to talk to after so long and scared to be left alone again, asks Arlecchino to stay. Arlecchino promises that she’ll still be there when Furina wakes up, and she keeps this promise.

“Neuvillette and Clorinde are both HORRIFIED when Furina tells them that Arlecchino has been coming around to her apartment a lot in the past couple months. Furina tries to explain that she wasn’t scared of Arle anymore and that she’s had a change of heart, but neither of them believe her and insist on going with Furina to the lunch date she had with Arlecchino that afternoon to protect her. It’s jarring for them seeing the shift, how Furina is suddenly so comfortable sitting next to Arlecchino, how Arlecchino fusses over Furina like she’s adored her for years, Arlecchino placing her jacket over Furina’s shoulders when a chill makes her shiver, the way Furina melts into Arle’s embrace when Arlecchino wraps an arm around her waist, and the way Arlecchino brushes the hair so gently out of her face and kisses the top of her head like she’s the most precious thing in the world.

“Though Clorinde promises to keep an eye on things and keep Neuvillette updated if she finds any suggestion of ill intent, both of them saw how happy Furina was, and they can’t help being tentatively hopeful that Arlecchino truly does intend only to love her from now on. Furina apologizes for springing those two on Arlecchino as Arle walks her home. Arle gently grills her about them, and is ultimately relieved to find out that they’ve also been keeping in touch with Furina and making sure she’s okay. Arlecchino is a possessive lover that doesn’t like sharing, but she hates it even more when she finds Furina all alone, stuck in a depression she can’t get out of by herself and neither of them know how long she’s been like that because Furina’s lost track of time again.

“Though Arlecchino loves being the center of Furina’s world, she loves Furina even more, so she’ll tolerate everyone else in Furina’s life that makes her happy…and quietly dispose of anyone who threatens her happiness.”

#you could even say…I have a doctorate in the subject #hi I love them more than I love air #Arlefuri #Arlecchino #Furina #Genshin Impact //#depression //

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makismei · 1 year

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❝ ANGEL

♡ gn!reader x gojo satoru

cw: hurt/ comfort, established relationship

synopsis: gojo is so unserious, but he loves you more than you’ll ever know

wc: 1400+

notes from mei!

hello guys it’s been so long! i’ve rewatched jjk AND WATCHED JJK 0 FINALLY and felt very inspired to write lol (i fully believe gojo is a ginormous piece of shit)

i’m very rusty but i hope u enjoy!

you’ve always known satoru was far different from what people portrayed. he’s so conceited that it’s painful, but you know it’s just because he has insecurities of his own that he feels the need to hide.

he’s not as much of a ladies man as people say—of course, he can have anyone he wants, but he's only ever wanted to be yours.

i’m your perfect match, satoru says, no one can compare!

he’s scared of never-ending cycles and repeated mistakes—of things he should be able to control but somehow can’t—frankly, satoru is the epitome of bullshit.

it’s only now you’ve realized that satoru is the most flawed human you’ll probably ever meet—he’s a wuss who never stops complaining, his mouth going on and on like a never-ending siren. his favourite hobby is to get on people’s nerves then treat himself to that expensive bakery downtown.

satoru is so excellent that his flaws are dimmed by the blinding lights of his perfections.

he can get away with just about anything work wise—but with you and your relationship, there’s a line he constantly loves to jump over, even when he knows you'll never let it slide.

“satoru come on,” you say, hand reaching for his, but as you draw closer you feel a slight resistance, unable to touch him. you draw your hand back, taken aback from his behaviour.

you sigh, quiet and drawn out. gojo feels a chill run through his body as immediate regret pumps through his veins.

"baby—"

"save it, satoru."

he bites his tongue, watching as your eyes glaze over. you turn away from him, crossing your arms as if you were giving yourself a much needed hug. it's silent in his... very large and luxurious penthouse living room and you're once again reminded of the social gap between you and satoru.

for a moment, you can hear the voices of everyone mocking your relationship—criticizing you, laughing at you for even thinking special grade sorcerer gojo satoru could have a soft spot for someone like you.

and you feel played. not by him, but by yourself for believing someone born from money and blessed with strength, could love someone like you—someone who came from nothing and had to work their way up and up, kissing ass and developing thick skin.

you don't think gojo will ever understand how privileged he is.

you also don't think he'll understand how bad he is for you.

"where do you think you're going?" he calls. you think carefully, sliding on your shoes as you undo the lock on his door.

"home."

it's been two days and as your tidying up your apartment, you hear a knock at your door.

you pause, already knowing exactly who it is.

a minute—maybe five passes as you don't hear another knock. you're unnerved because you still see the shadow of him through the very bottom of your door, stubborn as he always is.

you try not to breathe too loud or move too fast, but satoru's always a step ahead and as you're opening your window to escape through the emergency stairs, he's already there.

"that's cold, my love." he says, but it's missing his usual satoru-flare and you know he's not in usual mood.

you don't think you can stomach him being in front of you.

he's wearing his sunglasses, hair down with his hand making sure your window stays open. his other is stuffed in his pocket, casual and uncaring like he always is.

"that's rich coming from you."

satoru loves you.

and it's all he can think about as he looks at you.

he knows you're more hurt than angry, and it's taken him great restraint to not harass you—lovingly—over these past two days. and when he sees you, he realizes he definitely should’ve harassed you instead.

his eyes trace your frown, your posture that shuts him out. he wonders if he'll be able to fix his big mistake.

with you in front of him, gojo doesn't feel like he's the strongest anymore. all the words he prepared to serenade you back into his arms sounded like gibberish and no longer felt right.

"why are you here, satoru?" he doesn't miss the way your voice breaks, "why do you always do this to me?"

tears begin to clump in his your lashes, throat tightening as you stare at him in disbelief. the air is so tense. you feel like you've been stripped bare as a tear rolls down your cheek.

"you make me feel so loved," your voice shakes, "you lift me up so high and make me feel so proud to be me."

satoru wants to tell you that loving you feels so natural.

"but you're so mean," you cry. the tears are falling freely now and you're choking on your words. "you do all these—all these things, making me feel special and—and seen, only for you to neglect me and twist my words a week later, because you can't handle being treated the way you treat me!"

he wants to tell you that seeing you like this is eating him alive.

"you're so ignorant—are you kidding me? thinking i'm overreacting for getting mad th—that you cancelled on like, the third rescheduled date to take on a low-level mission? and when i confronted you about it, forgave you for it, you turn on your infinity when all i wanted to do was hug you?"

your arms fall to your side, sick of his face and the way he’s just standing there silent. "it wasn't even about the date. i feel like you're bored of me and everyone who said we wouldn't last—"

"don't finish that sentence." he interrupts, no longer able to bite his tongue. his lanky figure climbs through your window and you feel even more vulnerable now that he's in your space.

"i'll never get bored of you, you keep me on my toes too much." he lays his cards on the table, knowing this is the last chance he has to prove he loves you more than anything on this earth. "i know how harsh you are to yourself, so i celebrate your tiny achievements because i'm genuinely proud of everything you do. i'm aware that being the best at work doesn't mean i'll be the best boyfriend. i forget that sometimes...” you glare, “most times." he corrects.

satoru takes a careful step toward you. "i care about you—more than you know, i think. you don't deserve to be neglected at all, and you don't.." he inhales through his teeth, "you don't have to put up with me if you don't want to anymore. i know how hard i make it, and i know a sorry isn't going to make it better."

you don't think you've ever seen satoru look so small.

"i can't ask you to stay with me, but we both know how selfish i am, so i'll beg you to stay with me anyways."

he doesn't miss the quick upturn of your lips. but it disappears as fast as it came.

you break eye contact and he feels his world shatter.

"how are you going to fix this?"

"...by reminding you i'm your perfect match?" he squeaks.

you sigh, "you're so unserious."

lanky arms wrap around your figure, caging you against his chest. you close your eyes, naturally sinking into his embrace. "i won't blame you if you break up with me, but i'll just let you know i'll definitely drop dead and you'll be responsible for killing the strongest sorcerer in the universe."

"that doesn’t sound that bad. everyone would know me and fear me—you know how popular i’d be?”

he's silent for a good, long second. "that's cold, my love."

it's so childish, in the way that he speaks. but in a way, he just revealed more to you than his semi-serious little monologue could ever do.

satoru is such a wuss, but he's never had someone love him like you do and he malfunctions. he can't fathom the thought of losing you, but also can't stomach the fact he's not good for you.

but he's trying. you know he is just from the way his knuckles brush against your cheek during the early hours of the morning; you know he's trying when he sneaks off during work to join you on your lunch break.

you know he’s trying because his students say he seems so gentle when he looks at you.

you know he's trying because he's here right now, after showing you he’s not the strongest despite everyone (and himself) proclaiming he is.

your arms curl around him and satoru gets his answer.

he's home.

#angel by beabadoobee !#i was writing my debut speech for my best friend and i had the strongest urge to write for our beloved old man #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #jjk headcanons #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #gojo imagines #jujutsu kaisen gojo

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sapphicseasapphire · 2 months

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Miscellaneous Cryptid au lore bits that are too short/too specific to make it into individual posts!

If you want more information about any of these, feel free to ask! I’m always willing to ramble about my Little Guys haha!

(In no particular order)

• Sky’s wings are too big to fit through doors. He will 100% for sure run into people in a crowded street. Because of this, he stays behind when the others go to villages. This gets incredibly lonely for our friendly little bird boy so eventually it’s decided that someone has to stay with him. This leads to one on one bonding between Sky and everyone in the Chain! (Except Time)

• Four can control water, earth, fire, and air, but not particularly well. Jack of all trades is a master of none. That being said, each individual color is a master of their element, so when separated, they are a FORCE to be reconned with. Their diminished power as a whole is a huge source of frustration for them, but I can’t let them be too powerful.

• After the their adventure is over, Time lives out the rest of what would have been his mortal life with Malon, then he takes care of his children, and his children’s children. But eventually he’s just… lived too long. His humanity falls away and he becomes more and more of a God and stops interacting with mortals almost entirely. Except when the other Links are born in their own eras, Time looks after them Father Time style and if they fall, he rewinds to before they were injured (their last “save point”) and pushes them to a better path. (Game over. Continue?)

• Even if someone is born with the blood of a God, their powers need to be awakened. This usually happens in a moment of desperation. For example, during Time’s adventures, he meddled with the flow of time so much that it became his dominion. Twilight’s powers awakened when he was like two years old. His parents had been killed by monsters- monsters that were now looking for him. And in his desperation, he looked to a squirrel in the tree above and he copied it. The monsters lost track of him, ignoring the animals of the forest. Time was gifted, well… time… because against a falling moon, it was his last hope. Twilight was gifted shape shifting because he had no other chance of survival.

^ Hylia doesn’t count because she was one of the original Goddesses. Many of the Zeldas, while they do possess the blood of the Goddess, have not had their awakening. Yet.

• Warriors will sometimes blurt out random sets of data without being prompted. He’ll ask to run calculations on things that no one has ever asked him to. And while the others might find this confusing, it’s his way of expressing his interests. Of learning more about the things that he likes, of telling people about the things that he likes. This happens rarely, but when it does, Sky drops EVERYTHING to talk with him, so excited to see him opening up.

• The Legend of the Godkiller is a very idealized and not very accurate retelling of Sky’s final battle against Demise. It paints him as a very confident, willing knight of the Goddess. Full of righteous anger and absolutely thrumming with power. In the story that Time knows, Sky wasn’t even scared. He knew he was capable of killing Demise, and he wasn’t even surprised when he was cursed. This is… far from the truth.

• Yeah, Time knows about Sky’s curse. But what’s he gonna do? Confront him about it? Tell the others? And risk drawing the wrath of the Godkiller? Absolutely not.

• Wild is more sentient than he lets on. He understands more than the others might think. He’s a little chaos gremlin who gets so easily distracted and acts more like a wild animal than a person, but he’s very smart. He couldn’t do long division but he can tell that… something’s not right with Sky and the Master Sword. The others haven’t caught on yet.

• Wild KNOWS THINGS. That he SHOULDN’T.

• Hyrule is so incredibly timid by nature. He’s used to being hunted: first as a fairy, sought for his healing magic, and then because of his blood curse, sought by monsters to bring about the revival of Ganon. Because of this, he’s incredibly shy. Until one of his companions gets hurt!! Then he’s ALL BUSINESS and he speaks with the authority that one might expect from a fairy so powerful.

• Speaking of that! At first, no one knew he was a fairy! He was afraid that they’d bottle him (they had other bottled fairies in their pouches when he’d first met the others, so it was justified). He kept up his glamour until he physically couldn’t anymore. The others knew he was a magic user- he tended to fight less with a sword and more with his spells and had an affinity for healing, but they didn’t know JUST how powerful he was until his glamour fell apart.

• Hyrule’s glamour can change the way that people see things, but it cannot change the physical shape of something. (Except himself, because his body is mostly magic anyway). For example, he could hide Four’s horns, but if you were to touch the top of Four’s head, you’d still feel them! He can make Wild look like a Hylian, but that doesn’t make their antennae go away. This is why Sky can’t go into towns: his wings may be invisible, but they’re still there, they can still feel pain and can still bump into people and walls. So… he can’t fit, unfortunately.

• The best swimmer (aside from Legend, Ravio, and Wind) is Sky. Which is weird, right? One might think that those massive wings would slow him down. But he has the Water Dragon’s Scale! Everyone’s so surprised when he starts racing people and WINNING. When he jumps out of the water in a spiral spin. Legend can call him a cheater all he wants, but he’ll be a hypocrite for it. He can’t say anything about using magic items to bolster abilities.

• Legend and Wind go from enemies to best friends in the course of like a month. They bond over a war and the ocean, and their connection is strengthened by the conflict that they’re both familiar with. Honestly a big reason that Legend warms up to Wind is that Ravio is fond of him. Also it’s actually impossible to hate Wind. Also he went to Outset that one time and was ablel to better understand Wind’s perspective.

• Wind dies a little bit inside every time Aryll or his grandma call themselves a Sea Monster. But he doesn’t have the heart to correct them.

• Ravio was never really afraid of Wind himself. More so… afraid of the monster that he had the potential to be (Ku). When Wind was never corrupted, Ravio had no reason to hate him! So they became friends during the War of Eras.

• Ravio joins the Chain very late. But we love him anyway.

• Twilight has little nicknames for everyone. If he calls them by their actual name/their title, they’re in trouble.

• Four only splits around Sky, Warriors, Hyrule and Twilight at first. Actually, the first person they split in front of was Sky but that was an accident. Once they determine that it’s safe, they start doing it around the others… slowly but surely…

• Post God Reveal, Legend and Four join Sky in the “distrust Time” corner

• Time wields Wars’ sword because Wars has deemed him the most powerful. Because of this, Warriors will go with Time when their adventure comes to an end. (This way, neither of them have to face eternity alone).

• I know I made a whole big long post about what happens to Mer if they don’t soak, but I neglected to say that all that will happen to Aquili too, just to a lesser extent. Wind needs to soak as well, just not as often as Legend and Ravio do.

• Mer cannot assume their natural form if they have anything on their legs/feet where their tail would go. Ravio’s… not wearing anything under his robes. And Legend… isn’t wearing anything under his skirt. Being barefoot definitely isn’t ideal but it’s better than the alternative: being unable to soak and drying out. Now, they could simply remove their shoes/pants, but they’re traveling and often in battle and they don’t always have the time to shed their clothes. If they need to jump into the water? They jump into the water.

• During Legend’s adventures, him being Mer was a secret. (The Zora were already antagonistic- imagine what they’d do if they knew he was a war mongering Mer!) This is why he needed flippers or a magic item to be able to swim- something on his feet or something magically imbued to keep him from transforming.

• For Sky, Link and Aepon are generally completely fused, but there are certain events that can force an imbalance between their influence over him. For example, if he’s hurt and takes a heart potion for healing, the body is healed, his Link half is healed, but is Aepon half is still weakened. The others might notice that he acts differently after taking a potion and he just seems very… unwell. Distressed, panicked. But also, he has both Aepon dreams and Link dreams. And depending on their frequency and severity, they can affect how he acts when he wakes, at least until both halves are sufficiently awake.

• When Sky’s Aepon half is more dominant, he is actually legitimately a bird. He doesn’t speak, he just chirps and squawks and trills like a bird. He looses all sense of personal space. And he’ll LOOSE IT if his feathers are touched.

• Sky can’t see well at night but he has a much greater endurance for looking at bright things.

• Hyrule hangs out around Sky as much as he can because Sky can’t take heart potions and also his bones are literally hollow and can break a lot easier than the others’

• Hyrule is a GIFT to this world and I don’t draw him enough.

I have a LOT MORE to say about these guys but this is just off the top of my head right now. Also I don’t want to spoil story elements! But let me know if you have any questions or want more context! I have short stories written about like half of these.

#the legend of zelda #chain as cryptids au #cryptid lore #cryptid ravio #cryptid twilight #cryptid wind #cryptid warriors #cryptid sky #cryptid time #cryptid wild #cryptid four #cryptid legend #links meet au

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flightlessangelwings · 1 year

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Never Let You Go

Joel Miller x fem!reader (no use of y/n) Word count- 3.2k Warnings- smut (18+ ONLY!), fight/argument, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, making up, love confessions, feelings, light dirty talk and praise kink, unprotected sex, set in the Jackson part of the show/game Notes- Inspired by a thought from discord that I just had to write into a full fic! And added a little romantic smut too cause gotta have that happy ending after that angst lol! The angst was very cathartic for me tow rite since I’ve been going through it lately too lol. Enjoy! Taglists are closed. To stay up to date on when I post, feel free to also follow my update blog and turn on post notifs @flightlessangelwings-updates

Jackson was like a dream. After living in the QZ for so long and then making the dangerous trip across the country with Joel and Ellie, it felt surreal that there was a settlement of people living so peacefully. Laughter rang everywhere you went, and the kindness was a welcome change of pace. Not to mention a clean house, a warm meal and a hot shower felt like heaven on earth.

But the feeling of paradise didn’t last long when Joel came up to you with a serious look on his face. “Hey,” his tone was low and he held a calmness in his eyes.

Your face dropped, “What is it, Joel?”

“We gotta talk,” he sighed as he crossed his arms.

“Something wrong?” you asked as your nerves tingled under your skin. You knew by the look on Joel’s face that something was in his mind, and it scared you to wonder what was going through his head. After traveling across the country with him and Ellie, you liked to think you knew him well… and you held a secret longing in your heart for him. But right now, a chill ran through your veins and you had no idea what was coming next.

“Now that we’re here, I think you should stay.” Joel sounded cold as he spoke. As much as he hated to break your heart like this, he told himself that this was for the best. This was the best way to keep you safe and out of danger. He had too many close calls on the road, and the thought of losing you was too much for him to bear. It was a stab in the heart to see that look on your face and the tears in your eyes, but if it kept you safe, Joel would find a way to manage.

“What?” you snapped in a burst of emotions, “Stay?”

“Yeah,” Joel huffed as he hid his true feelings under the anger that suddenly exploded between you, “This place has everything you need. You can build a new life here. You’ll be happy. Trust me, this is the best for you.“

“Don’t make my decision for me, Joel. You should know me better than to do that.” The rage bubbled to the surface as tears filled your eyes and you stared at him, “Why?” was the first question that popped into your head after several moments of tense silence.

“Because,” Joel’s tone turned more sour as he sounded harsher than he meant to, “You’re better off here. It’s best this way.”

From behind you, Ellie’s face appeared in the shadows. She watched with wide eyes as the two of you went back and forth, but she decided to stay silent. You didn’t even know she was there, but Joel caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye.

“So after everything we’ve been through, you’re just dumping me off here? Don’t I mean anything to you?” There it was: the hurt under all the animosity. And it was palpable as your voice broke.

Joel’s jaw clenched but he stayed silent.

And that only made you angrier, “What is this, you think I can’t handle myself out there? That I’m a fucking liability or something? Is that it, Joel? I’m not a damsel in distress you know!”

“It’s not…” He couldn’t keep up the facade anymore as you broke down in front of him. Suddenly, Joel regretted ever bringing it up in the first place.

“Save it,” you spat as you turned to leave, “Fine. Have it your way. Good luck with everything,” your tone was harsh and low as you walked out the door and slammed it behind you.

Joel watched you leave with tears in his eyes, but he stayed frozen in place. His heart pounded in his chest as all the unspoken words ate him up inside. He wanted to tell you the truth of why he wanted you to stay in Jackson. He wanted to tell you exactly how he felt, But he couldn’t risk that. Not when he’d already lost so much.

“Joel!” Ellie’s voice rang from where he hid in the shadows, “What the fuck are you doing? Go after her!” She ran up and tugged at his arm.

“Ellie it ain’t that simple,” Joel signed as he turned and walked towards the bedroom, “She’s too angry right now anyway…” …And I blew it…

“Joel…”

“Ellie!” Joel snapped back louder than he meant to. When he saw Ellie’s wide eyes, he took a deep breath and continued in a softer tone, “Enough,” he sounded exasperated as he closed the door to the bedroom, leaving Ellie alone in the flurry of emotions that both of you left behind. Behind closed doors, Joel buried his head in his hands as his own tears soaked his skin.

Fuck…

The cold air nipped at your skin as you sat outside in the snow. You walked around Jackson aimlessly for hours until your legs screamed at you to rest. So, you stopped somewhere in the outskirts of the town and sat on a log. The spot you picked was up on a hill, and it gave you the perfect view of Jackson.

You watched all the people in the distance as you stayed in your solitude. A fresh layer of snow made the ground glisten and your eyes traced the footsteps that the people left behind. Chatter echoed from the crowd that gathered in the middle of town, and you watched with a solemn expression as families gathered together.

Couples nuzzled together in front of the glittering lights. Lovers brought their partners mugs of warm drinks to share together. Families laughed together like the world hadn’t fallen apart around them. For the first time in a long time, you saw so many smiling faces. Instead of it bringing you comfort, though, it only brought you sadness.

A sharp shiver escaped your lips as a chill ran up your skin. Goosebumps erupted on your arms under the thin coat you wore, and you wished you had grabbed something thicker before you stormed out on Joel. Your teeth chattered as you sat alone in the cold…

But, that chill suddenly vanished when you felt a new layer of warmth across your shoulders and back. You gasped as you turned around and saw Joel next to you as he slung his warm jacket over your shoulders. He held a melancholy look in his eyes as he sat down next to you without a word.

“Joel…” you snarled. When he just looked forward, watching the crowd that had captivated you to the point where you didn’t hear him walk up behind you, you softened, “Thank you.”

He sighed your name, “You’re welcome.”

You stared at Joel for several long moments, studying his features. Scars littered his face, but they only made him more handsome to you. The sharp angle of his nose and the softness in his eyes captivated you from the moment you met. When he exhaled, your eyes landed on his lips, and you wondered what it was like to kiss them.

And as furious as you were at Joel for what he said earlier, you couldn’t help but feel calm and safe with him just sitting beside you in this comfortable silence. There was just something about him that you couldn’t pull away from even if you wanted to.

“I’m sorry,” Joel broke the silence with a confession that caught you off guard.

This time it was your turn to stay silent as he turned and faced you. The look on his face made your heart skip a beat, and the sorrow in his eyes made you want to pull him close and hold him tight. But, you could also tell he had more to say, so you let him continue.

“I don’t think you can’t handle yourself. And you ain’t a liability. It ain't nothing like that at all,” Joel spoke in a soft tone but one that still held all the emotions he kept buried, “The truth is…” he sighed as his gaze dropped to the ground, “I was afraid.”

“You? Afraid?” you scoffed, “Joel you’re the toughest man I know. I’ve seen you take on a clicker with just a rusty shiv. You protected me and Ellie all this time. So what…?”

“I love you,” Joel interrupted you with another confession that took you by surprise.

“What?” Your voice was hushed as you gasped.

Joel sighed as he buried his face in his hands for a moment before he turned to you again, “The reason I’m afraid, baby… Is because I fucking love you. The thought of losing you is just…” he sobbed softly, “Fuck, I can’t even bare it if anything happened to you. You and Ellie… You’re everything to me now.”

“Joel,” you breathed as you scooted yourself closer and cupped his face, “Call me that again.”

A flash of a grin lit up his face, “Baby…”

You looked deep into his eyes, and the mistiness you saw there brought on tears of your own. You rubbed your thumbs across his beard a few times before you crashed your lips to his. Joel let out a muffled groan, but quickly reciprocated the kiss. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in even closer as he deepened the kiss.

Even in the cold, a warmth spread between your bodies as you held each other tightly. Your hands grasped at his jaw as you tasted Joel on your tongue. You moaned softly into his mouth, and it only spurred him on more as he ran his hands up and down your back. Between the warmth of his jacket and the explosion of emotions between you both, the icy fingers of the winter air melted away.

When you broke away for air, you rested your forehead against Joel’s, “I love you too, Joel. I have for a long fucking time.” You were quiet again as you just stared into his eyes, “From now on, we work together, ok? Don’t push me away.”

“Yes ma’am,” the smile that lit up Joel’s face made your heart flutter and the way he squeezed your waist sent a pulse through your body that went right to your core. “How about you and I get out of here then,” Joel’s low tone made you whimper with need and suddenly a new feeling took over your body and your mind.

“Let’s go,” you murmured in a matching tone.

Joel stood, taking you with him, and he never let you go on the walk back to the house that Tommy and Maria set you all up in. When you crossed the door, Joel shrugged his jacket off of you and called out into the house, “Ellie?”

When it was silent, you made your way into the living room where a note sat on the table, “Joel,” you called out to him as you read the note, “Ellie went to the movies with the other kids in town. We have the place to ourselves for a while.”

Joel came up behind you and snaked his arms around you, pulling you close as he groaned in your ear, “Good,” he bucked his hips against your body, “Cause I’d hate to have to keep you quiet after finally having you to myself, baby.”

“Joel…” you moaned as you turned around and faced him, “Who knew you had such a mouth on you,” you quipped back before he took your lips with his in another deep, heated kiss.

“I’ve thought about this for so long, baby,” Joel purred as he led you through the house and up the stairs to the bedroom, “You have no idea how long I wanted to hold you and never let you go.”

“Then hold me and never let me go, Joel.”

He let out a single soft laugh, “Yes ma’am,” he repeated himself in a softer tone as he kissed you again.

As much as he wanted to take his time with you, the need was also too great to take it slow. In what felt like a flash, you both had stumbled your way into the bedroom, kissing each other and ripping clothes off as you went. You didn’t even notice the bed until your legs hit the edge and you tumbled backwards and landed on your back with Joel on top of you. Both of you let out loud huffs as the air was forced out of your lungs but you immediately broke out into laughter.

“Now I’m extra glad I got to have a shower,” you joked.

“Doesn't matter to me, baby,” Joel groaned, “I’d still have you either way. I ain’t scared of a little dirt and sweat.”

“Joel,” you playfully slapped his shoulder before your laughter dissipated and you admired every inch of skin that was now exposed to you. Your mouth dropped open as you couldn’t help but gawk at Joel naked on top of you, “Wow…” you breathed in awe.

He dropped his head and let the tufts of hair hide his face as he took the opportunity to admire you as well, “Fuck baby you’re so beautiful.”

Before you could retort, Joel took your lips with his once more, but this time the kiss was slow and deep. His hips rocked against yours as his tongue danced in the same rhythm. Joel’s hardened cock dragged along your wet folds as he swallowed the moans you let out from his actions.

“Baby, as much as I wanna take my time with you, I don’t think I can right now,” Joel pleaded.

“Then fuck me, Joel,” you moaned, “I don’t care… I need you too bad.”

“Fuck,” he groaned as he nudged his cock at your entrance, “I swear baby, next time I’m gonna take my time with you,” Joel moaned as he slowly pushed the tip past your first ring of muscle, “I’m gonna spend hours between your legs before I fuck you. Then I’m gonna fuck you til the sun comes up.”

“Oh fuck… Joel…” your mind swam as he pushed himself inside you inch by inch while whispering sweet praises in your ear. Between his cock stretching you out and the way he spoke, you knew you weren’t going to last long.

“You alright, baby?” Joel cupped the side of your face as he continued to slowly sheath himself inside you.

“Yes,” you replied immediately, “Please Joel… Keep going…”

“Shit baby…”

Joel covered your body with his own and buried his face in the crook of your neck as his hips met yours. Both of you moaned loudly as your bodies connected and he buried his cock completely inside you. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and dug your nails into his back.

“Move Joel… Please…”

Unable to deny you, Joel groaned your name as he rocked his hips back and snapped them forward, slamming his cock deep inside you. Both of you cried out in harmony as he thrust his hips again and again in a steady rhythm. You threw your head back as tears filled the corners of your eyes. To you and Joel, the entire world melted away and all that was left was each other as he filled you over and over again.

“Fuck… Joel… I’m gonna…” you moaned as you clung to him tighter.

“Fuck baby… Me too…”

Joel sped up his thrusts as you both chased your climaxes. And between the heat of the moment and the high emotions, it didn’t take long for you both to fall apart. You and Joel clawed at each other as you came one right after the other. Moans and cries and incoherent praises echoed between you two as you rode out your climaxes together. Even in the cold, sweat lined your bodies as you both trembled from the weight of your orgasms until you both completely collapsed.

You held Joel close as he let himself flop on top of you, his cock still buried inside you. Neither of you wanted to move even if you could, and you placed soft kisses along his hairline. You felt Joel mirror your action as he kissed along your shoulder and whenever he could reach. Heavy breaths were the only sound in the room as you both recovered your strength.

With a groan, Joel eventually pushed himself up and pulled out of you before he collapsed next to you. Immediately, you nuzzled yourself into his open arms and rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you closed your eyes contently. The beat of Joel’s heat reminded you that he was still there, and he wasn’t going anywhere. And the feeling of you in his arms told Joel that you were here, and you weren’t going anywhere. Together, you stayed happy in the other’s arms.

And sleep would have taken you over if it weren’t for the sound of the front door opening and Ellie calling both your names.

“Anyone here?” she called into the quiet house.

“Upstairs, Ellie… But don’t come up here,” you called out to her with a giggle.

Even without seeing her, you knew that Ellie rolled her eyes at you, “Ok gross!” she couldn’t help but laugh, “Don’t go traumatizing children here!”

“Ellie!” Joel chastised.

She stomped up the stairs as loudly as possible, “I am here!” Ellie enunciated every word with a stomp, “Just going to my room,” she hollered as she reached the door and slammed it shut behind her, “I gotta find earmuffs or something,” she muttered to herself. Truly though, Ellie was happy the two of you made up, “It’s about fucking time.” If she had anyone to bet with, Ellie would have wagered how long it would take you and Joel to finally realize your feelings for the other.

Your eyes never left Joel’s face as the two of you listened to Ellie’s dramatic display. You couldn’t help but smile brightly as he rolled his eyes and let out a deep sigh. But, when he felt you staring, he turned and met your gaze.

“What is it?” Joel asked.

“Nothing,” you sighed dreamily, “It’s just… This is nice,” you gestured to the room, “It feels right, you know?”

Joel let out a short laugh as he gave you a squeeze, “It does…”

“Promise me it’ll be like this after we’re done,” you said, “The three of us together like this…” …like family.

Joel leaned forward and placed a long kiss on your forehead, “I promise baby,” his low tone made your heart skip a beat, “I ain’t coming back without both of you.”

You closed your eyes contently as you leaned into his embrace. Neither of you spoke the words that were on the tip of your tongues, but you both knew from the way you held the other what was left unsaid.

“Let’s get some sleep,” Joel muttered as he made himself comfortable and pulled you in so that your head rested on his shoulder and his arms stayed securely wrapped around you.

And Joel looked forward to the days that would end like this: with the ones he loved safe under the same roof. For Joel, that was paradise and worth fighting for.

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strangemaleswaps · 5 months

Text

Strange Cop Dad Swap

I made my way to the kitchen, expecting some good alcohol since Brittney was rich. Holy shit! There was a huge variety of everything! Now THIS is what I expected at a college party! Who fucking cared if I wasn't even in college yet, or old enough to drink? This shit is crazy!

"What would you like my good sir?" asked some random guy at the table. I didn't think he was an actual bartender, since he was wearing normal clothes. Probably just some weirdo.

"Oh I dunn-" I didn't even finish my sentence when he put something into a shaker and poured it into a red plastic cup. He then handed it to me. Well, I guess if I'm at a college party, I gotta act like a college party guy. I chugged it all down in a second. Suddenly my throat burned like hell.

"Fuck man, one step at a time! Save the chugging for cheap beer. These drinks are classier." He poured me another. "This time baby steps my man."

I was kinda mad, but accepted the drink anyway. I walked back into the living room where people were on the dance floor. I saw my buddy Trent dancing with yet another random girl he just met. I swear that dude solely exists to break hearts.

"Hey! Garrett! Did you get the drinks?

"I got one. If you want one, go get it yourself."

"Ah fuck you! But seriously though aren't you scared your dad's gonna show up? I mean he IS a cop around here."

"Probably not. I'm sure there's lots of parties going on right now. What are the chances that he'd come to this one?” I noticed someone started talking to Brittney. It must've been bad because she widened her eyes and turned the music off. With the new silence in the room, we could hear the blaring police sirens outside.

"Shit who called the cops?" Someone said. The door opened and none other than my stupid dad appeared. His ugly bald head reflected the multicolored lights and he looked around at everyone, while I tried to hide myself behind the crowd. Beside him was the sheriff, Marty. My dad may have been good friends with Marty but he didn’t have to bring the fucking sheriff for something as simple as this.

"Allright allright, party's over. Nobody's getting arrested as long as you cooperate." Everyone started walking out the door and I was exposed. My dad widened his eyes when he noticed me.

"Garrett?! What the fuck are you doing? You know better than that!" He just HAD to start the lecture NOW out of all times, embarrassing me in front of everyone.

"What? I can't come to a party now?"

"Don't try excuses on me! I saw that cup in your hand. What? You expect me to believe that's water? Get in the car. Everybody else move it!” We both started walking outside while Marty stayed to lead the others.

Inside the police car, we were silent for a while until he blew up on me once again.

"I can't believe you were fucking underage drinking! Do you have any idea how irresponsible you are?! You're in your senior year of high school. Do you really think that’s going to be a good habit when you go to college?! You're grounded until graduation. I don't care how harsh that sounds. Graduation you hear?” I knew that nothing I said would change anything so I kept my mouth shut the rest of the car ride.

Back at home, we said nothing to each other as I walked up to my room and slammed the door. About an hour went by and I heard a knock, followed by my dad coming in.

"Hey."

"Go away."

"I just wanted to say that I overreacted a bit back there. It made me so angry seeing the type of person you might’ve ended up as." He was fumbling with his wedding ring. I don't know why he keeps it on anyway. I never knew my mom, and it's clear my dad is divorced so why does he wear a damn wedding ring? He needs to find a girlfriend or something!

“You have no idea how stressful it is! Why can’t I go to some little party just to unwind?”

“I was young once too! I just don’t want you to go down a bad path. You have so much more to learn. This isn’t a good habit to form when you go to college.” It was then that I blew up on him.

“Hey at least I am going to college! Unlike a certain dumbass cop…” His eyes widened and I saw nothing but pure anger on his face,

"I was going to shorten your grounding sentence, but after that attitude not anymore!" He then slammed the door once again.

Trent texted me a bit later, asking if I was going to be able to go to Brittney’s homecoming party. Shit! I forgot about that! There was no way I was going to miss it so we devised a plan for me to sneak out.

The night arrived and I had my plan all set. Trent was going to call the cops on some other party to lure my dad away. When he leaves, Trent will come and pick me up and it's party time! I was in my room pretending to be bored, when right on schedule, my dad came in.

"I got another dumbass party to shut down so stay here, and don't even think about leaving this room. You're still grounded." He had a serious look in his eye.

"Sure sure. I'll be good," I said sarcastically. I looked out the window and as soon as his car was out of sight, I texted Trent. Within minutes he arrived. I quickly got dressed and he picked me up.

"Dude, you're either the bravest guy ever, or the stupidest."

"Hey, I won't stay too long. Just enough to see what it's like really. And then I'll be back in my room before he comes home."

The house was easily twice as packed as the last party, it was incredible. Brittney came down the stairs and approached me with a confused look on her face.

"Hey, wait I thought you were grounded or something. Aren't you afraid your dad is gonna come back? He better not."

"Nah, relax. He's doing some other stupid police work. I won't stay too long anyway."

"Allright, if you say so."

I went to the kitchen, like last time, to find an even bigger variety of drinks! Nobody else was in there so I thought I'd experiment myself this time. I picked up the shaker and started pouring drinks, even though I didn't know what the hell they were. But I didn't care! I'm just glad I was able to sneak away from my dad. I tried the drink and…well it was actually awful. Oh well. I headed to the dance floor and started showing off my moves. I could hear everyone cheering me on until I felt a bit faint. The last thing I remembered was falling over and a couple people looking at me concerned.

When I opened my eyes, I was outside in the dark. What happened? Was I that drunk and they kicked me out? I felt pretty normal though. I walked back up to the door. When I closed it, a draft flew in, which was especially cold on my head for some reason. I let out a deep breath and when I turned around, everyone was staring at me. But it wasn't the type of confused stare I expected; it was a terrified stare. The music stopped and it felt like they were staring into my soul.

"Uh, I'm ok now.” My voice sounded really weird. There was an awkward silence until someone shouted in the back.

"Well party's over…AGAIN!" As everyone started walking out, I noticed Brittney was yelling at someone on the floor.

"Nah, fuck you Garrett. You're not allowed here again. Get up!" Weird coincidence that there was a guy with the same name as me on the dance floor too. As the crowd cleared, I felt a chill down my back as I found “Garrett” looked exactly like me! He seemed to be unconscious. When I approached him and Brittney, she looked up at me…which was weird because we were the same height. Did she get shorter or something?

"Oh uh, he didn't get beat up or anything bad. Just had a few drinks I guess." She spoke so compliantly, unlike the normal way she gives me attitude with every sentence. I noticed the guy on the floor was wearing my clothes too. He didn't just look like me, he WAS me! Was he a clone or something? What's going on? A breeze came through the still-opened door and hit my head again. Why is it so cold up there? I touched the back of my head, and felt a smooth spot. What the fuck? I searched around for my hair…for ANY hair! But all I could find was a smooth bald head. It couldn't be…I looked down at myself and found I was wearing a police officer's uniform, complete with the badge and full utility belt. Brittney stared at me, concerned.

"Is uh everything all right, officer?" No no! Don't call me that!

"I uh, can I use your bathroom?"

"Uh yeah, it's up the stairs and to the left."

As I made my way up and through the hallway, I stared down at my hands, noticing eerily similar things - a wedding ring and a watch that looked exactly like the one my dad wore. I opened the bathroom door and quickly locked it. I gazed into the mirror to find my fears had come true. I turned into my dad!

I grabbed my cheeks and tried pinching them, to make sure it wasn't all a prank and I was just wearing a mask, but nope. I could feel it all. It was real. Fuck! I saw how smooth and shiny my head was; I knew he shaved his head every morning, but I didn't realize how smooth doing that actually made it. It's like a fuckin bowling ball. I hate this! I had long hair before and now it's just all gone! It was freezing up there! I hated cops, so it was really uncomfortable wearing an officer's uniform too.

"Hey are you ok in there?" It was Brittney. I faked a flush and washed my hands.

"Is Garrett still asleep?" It felt weird referring to myself in the 3rd person.

"Yeah he won't wake up."

"I'll just carry him to the car."

Brittany walked to the kitchen, probably to clean up the alcohol before I saw the amount of it. When I got to the living room, I found Marty standing there. He looked up when he approached me and pointed at me.

“Hey you! What do you think you’re doing?” Shit. Does he know?!

“I’m sorry I-” He turned his fake frown into a smile.

“Don’t be. Sometimes we just can’t let anything else come before our duty. Even me.” He leaned over to kiss me. What?! What’s going on? “I guess we’ll have to reschedule that date to some other time.”

A date? Does this mean the whole time, my dad was gay? And for Marty? Was the whole wedding ring thing a facade? Marty actually had one too so maybe they both did it to prevent a scandal within the police department or something? I snapped back to reality when I noticed Marty was still waiting for an answer.

“Uh yeah, sure. Of course!”

“Good! Let me know!” He rubbed my bald head. It was then that I started getting hard …my dad's cock was getting hard. Marty wasn’t my type though! But suddenly the thought of him was making me feel good. Is this because I'm in my dad's body or because he's flirting with me?

I picked up..myself..off the dance floor and put him over my shoulder. I walked over to my dad's police car, and reached into my pocket for the keys to open it. I placed…myself inside, buckled him in, took my phone out of his pocket, and sat down in the driver's seat. I always hated my dad and hated cops in general but it felt pretty awesome actually sitting in the driver's seat of a police car. Like one of those movies where they have to steal one to save the world or something. The flashing lights were still on, but luckily I knew how to turn them off. I pressed the button and began driving home.

When I got home, I picked up my body once again, and carried him. It didn't really occur to me earlier, but if I'm in my dad's body, does this mean he's in my body? Fuck, I can't stand the thought of my dad going around embarrassing me in front of everyone! But he still hadn't woken up yet. What if whatever magical spell made us swap was keeping him asleep? But if he does wake up I need somewhere to put him at least. I walked upstairs and towards his room, and placed him on his own bed. I guess that'll do. I went over to my own room and plopped onto my bed, the pillow feeling extra comfy touching my bare head. I rubbed it again, actually kinda enjoying how it felt. Even though the body belongs to my dad, I'm still borrowing it right now. So I guess I have the freedom to touch myself anywhere. Not that I would want to go…down there. That's my dad's cock, gross! But I'm gonna need to jerk off eventually; I'm already feeling kinda horny now…but why? The thought of Marty crossed my mind and I suddenly was imagining him naked. Shit, not this again. He kinda was cute though, in like a lame cop kinda way. Man, I honestly wanna fuck him now.

At this point my cock was getting so stiff that I could barely take it. I started stripping, taking the heavy utility belt off first. Each garment came off until I was just in my dad's boxers.

I can't believe I was about to do this. I felt around my new dad bod, then peeled the underwear down to see my dad's cock. It was actually pretty big, maybe like 10 inches or so! So nasty…but I had to focus on the thought of Marty to stay hard. I took the underwear off so I was fully nude, laid down on my bed and started jerking it. I imagined Marty cornering me against the wall, kissing me until he grabbed my cock. He then got down on his knees and started sucking it until…I was pulled out of my fantasy and came. The white load shot all over my bed, much further than I could ever do in my body! After the climax wore off, I realized how gross it was that my dad's cum was all over my bed. But it felt so good! Actually, I have no clue how long I'm gonna be like this, or how long my dad is going to stay asleep so I could definitely take over his life for a bit. I'm not grounded anymore! Even better, I guess I'm a cop now so I have power and authority! I took my dad's phone - I mean MY phone - and called up Marty.

"Hey Marty, I have an idea…”

#strangemaleswaps #male body swap #body swap #dad body swap

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graceofagodswrath · 6 months

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Ok ok ok your "Humans of Transformers franchise are space orcs" rant is out of this world.

I detest with passion when humans are reduced to pets and plot devices when instead the story could be about two alien species finding one another equally amazing/terrifying for their own respective reasons.

Here is my question: do humans and Cybertronians see how eerily similar they are? They have love of music, familial relationships, similar urban infrastructure, societal structure, financial systems, competitive entertainment, organized societies and war, colonialism, recreational intercourse, marriage...

Not to mention, why was it never addressed how similar both species look: bipedal, waists, noses, cheekbones, 5 fingers, chins, facial expressions and sense of aesthetics and beauty? Sure, humans have hair but in rather strategic places.

Veins and wires, blood and energon, metal and flesh, nanobytes and blood cells, Sparks and brain impulses, sexual organs...

Imagine Autobots arrive on Earth for the first time expecting some primitive cave-dwellers, only to encounter a less advanced mini-version of Cybertronian cities (New York, Singapore, London, Rome, Tokyo, Rio, Dubai...) and societies running on scientific, artistic and philosophical development which has no right existing on the ruthless, all-organic planet such as Earth is. Societes run by creatures who 4.000.000 (the duration of their war) years ago were hanging from the trees btw.

Autobots would be terrified.

Lemme make sure this response saves this time, cause it took me a minute to answer cause my first deleted and I had so much written I got unbelievably angry and refused to even look at the tumblr app.

But here we are.

So, this is EXACTLY what I have been thinking about for who k owe how long. It’s also the intro to this wack as fuck universe idea I’ve had in my head a while, and have kinda hinted at in my other works, but I’ve never gone into detail about.

And I still won’t.

Anyways, yes. It’s crazy that we backlit humans so much when any other sentient species is about. Transformers, TMNT, etc (I’m on a one track mind, feel free to jot down any other fandoms I can’t think of). The main theme of these stories? HUMANS SUCK. And that is severely unfair. People want to cry about how much our generation doesn’t give a shit anymore. Have you SEEN the media we feed kids???

That’s why I live Humans are Space Orcs so much. It really puts into perspective how unique and batshit our species is.

So, onto the Transformers vs humans concepts. The ONLY reason (forgoing technoism and general hate towards organics) cybertronians don’t see humanity as an imminent threat, or one in general, is because of size. WE BE SMALL AF. Can’t blame them, I get it. We do the same. Insects? Fuck them mfs.

But have you seen a botfly or tick burrow into your skin? The infection that comes form that? Have you seen ants jump a small animal as a colony and absolutely shred it? Or a spider only biting you, and the horror the venom causes (recluses and huntsman’s specifically). We have a good fucking reason for disliking these mfs.

But transformers? These are organic experiences. Worst they go through are rust infections, spark death, the works. They are not at risk the same way we are. That is why they view organics as small and inconsequential. They have no idea how hard we fight to simply stay alive.

And now the similarities. It’s understandable that they wouldn’t immediately recognize the physical, cultural, and psychological similarities between our species. Transformers are an incredibly diverse race, like any other. But specifically in physical form. Your average cybertronian holds a similar appearance to your average human. We tend to have the same features, just with different names. Eyes, noses, faceplates, ears, two arms, two legs. Sure that’s average for them too. But they are unique because of the fact that they have two forms. Vehicle mode. Their mode decides what they’re second mode looks like, which can create extreme diversity is appearance. Small, large, many limbed or not.

So the immediate similarities probably wouldn’t jump out to them in an odd way. There’s also the idea that because they’re so spread out in the universe, they’ve seen other organic races that are also similar. Pairs of every body part could be the common denominator among species.

That goes culturally too. War, love, music, government, politics, it’s all a natural form of sentient evolution. Another common denominator. It’s how it’s done that makes it unique. And the similarities between human and cybertronian culture is uncomfortably familiar.

I think that’s why cybertronians are seen being closest with humans rather than other species in the shows and comics (obviously because the audience is human and they need relation to characters but shhhh forget that for a sec). This is where the theories start.

Let’s say cybertronians begin to recognize the weird similarities between our species. The really, really weird stuff. The itty bitty details. Like:

- how we also mainstream kissing on the lips as the top tier romantic gesture.

- use verbal tone and cues for our language.

- have intensely complicated interpersonal relationships in the exact same manner.

- suffer from extreme mental health issues like depression, anxiety, PTSD (I totally headcannon that forms of adhd, autism, and ocd exist in cybertronian society, have y’all not seen my boy rodimus prime??)

- will also destroy each other in the name of our gods, until we have a common enemy.

That’s just the basics I could come up with. The only time I actually saw a moment where a transformer genuinely take a moment to realize that humans can be a threat, was in transformers prime. Episode 6 of beast wars (I think, correct me if wrong), where Miko beats the ever loving fuck out of an insecticon (I think) and upon Megatron hearing this, just goes blank Kubrick stare for a hot second. Man had an ugly realization that did not fit in with anything he had experienced his whole life.

AND THEY NEVER FUCKING ADDRESSED IT EVER AGAIN. Sick of this shit. Could’ve had the most badass character development, where the humans actually proved useful and did something (it would have fit Milo’s character so perfectly too) and scared the utter shit out of the transformers. BUT NO. They continue to be annoying as fuck.

One thing I loved about TF Prime was that it canonically turned Unicron into Earth. And humans came from the earth. Which relates humans beings and cybertronians so hard. Cousins Fr. We are the cybertronian equivalent of organics, and transformers the inorganic equivalent of humans. The individuality, the chaos, the culture, it clicks. There is so much material to really go into it.

But they never do. Don’t get me wrong, I love Transformers lord and just discovering more without humans being involved. We’re just annoying af at this point. But there is so much u tapped potential in transformers actually taking the chance to LEARN about us. But we’re just friends (pets) to these mfs.

That’s why I love TF Earthspark so far. Transformers ingrained into human culture because they’re not from Cybertron, and cybertronians having to adapt to human culture because they have no where else to go. Granted, it’s a kids show. There’s only so much they can do. But I’m excited for where it’ll lead. It really shows how much of threat and ally humans are, and how we are just as diverse as cybertronians.

I need to write another fic about cybertronians meeting humans their size from our world tho. Need to continue my old piece. Would give me so much life. Y’all help motivate me, college draining my ass.

#shower thoughts #humans are crazy #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are deathworlders #humans are weird #Transformers #transformers prime #transformers earthspark #rant

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