#but everything mentioned here has been out for at least a patch now

[aewinning]

Fontaine/4.x+ Predictions

I'm throwing some big bold Fontaine/4.x predictions out so I can reference this in a year and find out just how right or wrong I was. Under a cut because it's a wall of text and b/c it involves obscure lore not everybody's read.

(No leaks involved. If you've seen leaks that confirm or contradict any of this, please don't send them to me or discuss them in replies. As you can see, the lore theorycrafting is half of the fun for me!)

Yes, this is the tip of the iceberg on my lore theories. No, this is not a comprehensive prediction of the entire Fontaine plot, just bits of it I feel are foreshadowed. Yes, I'm citing a lot of shit so that when I go back through this a year from now I can see why I thought what I thought.

I think about Genshin lore too much, this truly is live footage of me every time a single new crumb of information is divulged.

Massive wall of text incoming b/c I can't stop rambling once you start me up on Genshin lore.

The theories:

Fontaine fucks up and Celestia gets involved

My big pet theory that I've been nursing for over a year now, ever since we started hearing from bit NPCs in minor events about Fontaine's energy problems, is that I think Celestia is either going to drop a nail on Fontaine or at the very least finally become relevant to the main plot in a big way by sending someone to intervene with Fontaine's technology and the mockery Focalors is making of the judicial process. (They might not care enough to intervene in the average judicial process, but she's literally the capital-letters God of Justice, and it's supposed to be her ideal. If she's abandoned it, they might not be happy.) They're also hovering over what we can assume to be the location of Fontaine, which is not a good sign.

This theory was strengthened when reading Rene's Investigation Notes in the Khvarena of Good and Evil questline, which indicate that Fontaine has done research on Khaenri'ah's use of abyssal power as an energy source, which was warned against by some of Khaenri'ah's own people but ignored (to disastrous outcome). There are a lot of parallels being set up between Khaenri'ah and Fontaine in those notes and with all the mention of sinners in the Final Feast trailer narration, and I'm not sure they bode well for Fontaine.

It's possible that the energy generator machine that Persikov and the other Fatui were working on as far back as 2.8's Golden Apple Archipelago were meant to help them gain a foothold in Fontaine; after all, solve the desperate nation's energy problems, and you suddenly hold a lot of power in the nation and can even hold their energy source ransom until your demands are met. I wouldn't be surprised if "the Fatui control Fontaine's energy future and use it as leverage" is a plot point.

(Although back in the day I thought it would be Pantalone behind that plot, not Arlecchino, because economic and political manipulation seemed his style and we hadn't heard anything much about Arlecchino yet. Hell, Arlecchino had been mentioned like once in-game then, in Inazuma's "The Very Special Fortune Slip" hidden questline, and was still referred to as male at that point.)

2. Neuvillette is unjustly imprisoned by Furina; Charlotte figures it out

I think Neuvillette is going to be imprisoned by Furina (who's pretty obviously the hydro archon Focalors), foreshadowed by the bars going over his face but not Clorinde's when they're walking in the sewers in the trailer. This will likely be either Furina framing him for something (foreshadowed by her burning what seems to be evidence while complaining about the lack of plot twists and entertainment, while he's literally 'framed' by the burning photo) OR a political imprisonment because they have an ideological clash.

Neuvillette seems to actually want justice, Furina seems to want a show. She seems very pouty and childish; if he tries to discipline her or remind her of the true meaning of justice, she could very well order him arrested and turn it into a grand trial to feed her lust for entertainment. And it could certainly be a combination framing/political imprisonment as well. Very French Reign of Terror style.

Charlotte may figure this whole situation out; in the trailer she's investigating photos with a puzzled look on her face as if she sees something wrong with them, and in the TCG event she offered to let us take out an ad in the paper if we ever needed it, in exchange for our assistance during the event. Now, the pictures were of Navia, not Neuvillette, so this may be an unrelated plot, but surely she's going to help us sleuth up the truth of something with foreshadowing like that.

Neuvillette is also...something. His eyes resemble Khaenri'ahn eyes, he's got the Kleelike pointy ears, and his cool blue hair streaks are certainly interesting. Oceanids can mimic other creatures so he could be an Oceanid (and given that they were spies of the previous archon that would set him up nicely for opposition to Furina). He could be Klee's species. He could be a Khaenri'ahn.

Whatever he is, he's NOT standard modern Teyvat human, and he's NOT the previous hydro archon despite the hair streaks because we know from the Khvarena of Good and Evil questline and Vourukasha's Glow artifact set that the previous archon died and was anchored beneath the Harvisptokm in the form of the giant Gaokerena lotus to purify abyssal influence in the region.

Neuvillette, I've got my eye on you. (Both eyes. While twirling my hair and kicking my feet.)

1b+2b. Neuvillette replaces Furina as hydro archon

I fully understand this is an unlikely scenario so it's not as firmly a prediction as much as a "this would be interesting," but if Celestia brings judgment on Fontaine it is possible that the hydro archon slot opens up, either because they repossess Furina's gnosis and find a new archon, or because they straight-up kill her (can you fucking imagine the shock from the community if they kill an archon off? but they'd still get to sell two separate units as archons, it'd be a win/win for them).

If this happens the logical choice for a replacement would be Chief Justice Neuvillette, especially if he was in opposition to the behavior that put her on Celestia's shitlist. I can see it now: Celestia repossesses the gnosis, gives it to him, he says thank you, the Celestians fuck off to be mysterious again, and he turns right around and hands it to the Fatui in exchange for getting the hell out of Fontaine. (Or for some other reason.)

I highly doubt they'll go this route, but I would love to see it. Not only would it even out the archon gender ratio a bit, but it would answer the question of how a change of archonhood takes place, which we still haven't seen since Morax hasn't been replaced as geo archon yet. And I think it's a question we deserve to have answered before the end of the game. If not here, then perhaps in Natlan (see point 7 below).

3. Lyney, Lynette, Freminet, and Arlecchino

This is a pretty common/obvious theory but I agree that the siblings are all likely working for Arlecchino, likely unwillingly. She runs the House of the Hearth which takes in (and sometimes causes) orphans and trains them for the Fatui; we've seen several NPCs that came from them before and many of them consider each other brothers and sisters.

I don't think Lyney and Lynette are related to Freminet by blood; I think they consider him a sibling due to being raised together. The resemblance between Lyney and Lynette is clearer, especially with the twin names, but names can be changed, so I don't even treat it as confirmed that those two are blood related until proven otherwise, especially since Lynette has cat features and Lyney doesn't.

Both Lynette and Freminet seem to have robotic features, and we know that Fontaine has robots and Snezhnaya has the technology for segments, plus we've seen Albedo as a homunculus and Scara as a puppet, so artificial humans are very much within the realm of possibility for Teyvat. Lynette is said to have rather mechanical behavior, and Freminet's constellation is literally 'Automaton.' So I think it's likely enough that one or both of them aren't flesh and blood humans.

To take that a step further, I think it's possible that Lynette died at some point, and the current Lynette is a mechanical replacement OR a robotic body being inhabited by her soul (Alphonse from Full Metal Alchemist style). Lyney may have had to pledge loyalty to Arlecchino and the Fatui in order to rescue or recreate his sister through these means, OR it's possible they were already in the House of the Hearth and Dottore or somebody else damaged the original Lynette while experimenting with her.

Dark. And quite the fun twist if it's true, tbh.

4. Navia and Clorinde

Navia gives off a 'gentleman thief' vibe to me but lady version, and Clorinde shoots directly at her in the trailer, indicating she's playing the role of the detective or law enforcement officer tracking her down. I don't have coherent thoughts here on a lore front really, I'm just really excited for the possibility of gentlewoman thief rivals to lovers/enemies with benefits lesbians.

Clorinde's outfit looks a bit historical Navy inspired to me, so maybe she's a member of the Navy, but I'm not really sure why she'd be chasing criminals if that's the case.

5. Wriothesley, Sigewinne, and the Tower of London

I don't have a solid opinion on whether Wriothesley is blind or not as possibly hinted at by his fumbling for the cup, but I think it'd be cool if he was! People point to him looking at papers or at Sigewinne as evidence that he's not, but 'blind' as a term does not always mean complete lack of sight, for one, and if we assume he's a vision user as a seemingly playable character then there could be alternative methods he reads things with, such as using elemental sight to read ink with crushed-up elemental rocks in it or something.

He seems rather military, and Fontaine seems to have a strong military presence in general with some of the Melusine giving off a British bobby (police) vibe visually. I wouldn't be surprised if we get a structure reminiscent of the Tower of London, potentially where Wriothesley works and Neuvillette gets held when imprisoned.

No solid thoughts about Sigewinne yet other than I'm guessing she's going to be a healer or support, since she's little and cute and taking care of someone in the trailer. I assume she's a Melusine.

6. Chenyu Vale and Qiaoying Village (and Yilong Port?)

They're coming. I can feel it in my bones that at last we will go to the long-awaited Baizhu homeland. Why? There have been multiple sources indicating that they're placed between Liyue and Fontaine, likely between Fontaine and Qingce Village. I think 4.4 should be Lantern Rite judging from the usual calendar, and that would be a prime time for it to pop up - the main Fontaine story should be over at that point, and we'll be back in Liyue anyways. It will also be the Year of the Dragon, which might mean time for some juicy Zhongli or Liyue lore. Though they might move Chenyu Vale elsewhere in the 4.x schedule if needed.

This region will likely utilize Fontaine's diving mechanics. Legends about the region in weapon and artifact lore discuss powerful sunken jade artifacts in the rivers and lakes of the region, which would make a storyline revolving around finding them the perfect excuse to introduce the diving mechanics to a non-Fontaine region. Given the name and the lore, it's very possible that Baizhu's signature weapon Jadefall's Splendor is one of those pieces of jade, reclaimed.

For that and multiple other reasons, I believe Baizhu will be relevant to the main storyline here. Not only does he have a personal vested interest in finding interesting and powerful old artifacts or knowledge that might aid in his search for immortality, but Changsheng is intimately connected to the region lorewise. The Echoes of an Offering artifact set doesn't mention Changsheng by name, but it does discuss an adeptus named "Herblord" in Chenyu Vale and tell her story, and Changsheng is referred to as an "Herblord" in Baizhu's story cutscene. There's no reason to refer to them both with such a specific unusual term unless they're one and the same.

(I also have a theory that the other woman in the artifact lore is Madame Ping. The other woman is referred to as a fish adeptus, and Madame Ping's younger self in cutscenes has fish motifs and a fishtail silhouette, so I believe she's likely a koi as her adeptus form. I am highly tempted to write a Changsheng/Madame Ping fic because y'all there is something incredibly wlw happening in that artifact lore. I am also not going to be surprised if Madame Ping's younger form becomes playable in conjunction with Chenyu Vale story.)

7. Natlan

As a final far future prediction: In Natlan, Capitano will likely challenge the pyro archon for her gnosis and possibly even replace her. We know he's headed to Natlan and also "has the courage to challenge gods as an ordinary mortal" from Varka's Weinlesefest letter, and if Pierro is simply the "Director" of the Fatui as labeled in the Winter Night's Lazzo description and not a numbered harbinger, Capitano may occupy slot #1, which would be in line with his name as the Captain. We've been told by Nahida that the top three harbingers rival gods in terms of power, and I feel like if any god would answer a martial challenge with their gnosis on the line it would be the God of War, especially if the challenger was backed by another archon. I TRULY hope we see a fight between them.

(I also wanna see someone guillotined in Fontaine to fit the vibe but I highly doubt that will happen in Genshin. I think Signora was the most violent death we'll get onscreen.)

Anyways I hope someone found this titillating or educational and we can all look back at this and laugh at how wrong I was a year from now, but occasionally my farfetched theories do work out, such as when I looked a the Echoes of an Offering set lore on its release a full YEAR before Baizhu's release and excitedly vibrated to a friend about how it HAD to be related to him or Changsheng.

(I have theories past this point in the game too but they mostly rely on esoteric Gnostic text parallels more than in-game foreshadowing/content so I'm less confident in them.)

[sebscore]

if you feel comfortable doing so, how do you think the grid would react if gzd was going through a rough patch and she’s being like really quiet and in her head?

i’m kinda slipping back into this era and i just need the grids comfort

THIS IS ALL I NEVER WANTED

pairing: lando norris x driver!reader / daniel ricciardo x driver!reader / sebastian vettel x driver!reader / lewis hamilton x sebastian vettel

warnings: reader feels defeated and is ready to give up. swearing. mention of sexism.

author’s note: the comfort fic is finally hear, lmao :) sorry that it took me this long, got caught up with gentle hit, but it’s here now !!

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''That's the car of Y/L that goes into the gravel- another DNF for the young driver.'' Crofty commented as he watched her retire from the fight for the third consecutive race. 

Meanwhile in the car, Y/N's radio was bombarded by her engineer. ''We're so sorry, Y/N. A podium was possible, but we'll keep pushing harder for next time. We'll debrief.'' Marco apologised, frustration and guilt audible in his voice. 

''Understood.'' The indifferent tone came as a surprise to the team and viewers, but it was understandable as the driver hadn't been able to finish a race in over a month. 

The ride back to the paddock was humiliating to say the least. The pitiful looks from fans, the judging eyes of critics and the loud whispers didn't do much to brighten the dark cloud that was her mind. 

Her post-race interviews also weren't a great help to her already declining confidence. 

''It's the third consecutive DNF for you- how are you managing to stay positive and to not lose hope in the car?'' Nathalie asked her, sounding compassionate. 

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. ''Nothing is positive at all,'' she sarcastically chuckled, ''I think I'm doing everything right and then it all goes wrong for some reason.'' 

''I'm working hard with the team, but it doesn't seem like it's paying off at the moment. I'm just very disappointed and I- yeah, well, I hate the car.'' 

The reporter in front of her wasn't used to the visible pessimism of the female driver. Y/N was known for her cheerful and up-beat character, always open for a chat and ready to take on any challenge. That figure seemed to be missing at the moment. 

''I hope it gets better for you, Y/N. You're an amazing driver and I wish you good luck for the next race weekend, thank you so much for talking to us.'' Nathalie rounds up the interview before signalling to her cameraman to stop the filming. 

Y/N was about to leave, but a gentle grab of her wrist stopped her. ''Hey, darling- don't let this get you down, alright? There are many people rooting for you here, me included, and we all want to see you do well. You have incredible talent and we know these lasts results aren't a reflection of that.'' 

The Sky Sports presenter had a soft spot for the young woman ever since her arrival to the paddock. Nathalie has always been amazed by Y/N's ability to shrug off all the sexist remarks and to prove the people that doubt her wrong. 

''Thanks, I appreciate it.'' The soft smile on Y/N's face was a fake one, even a child could spot that. However, her words and gratefulness were genuine and that's all that mattered to Nathalie. 

The driver moved quickly between the different journalists, not in the mood for the long and lovely chats that would have happened had she crossed the chequered flag. ''If one more person reminds me of all the DNF's, I'm going to knock myself out with one of these microphones.'' She mumbled to her team's press officer, making the woman laugh but also look at Y/N with a bit of concern. 

Luckily for her, all the media responsible people must have listened to her prayers and went easy on her- maybe sensing her agitation and worsened mood. She and her press officer moved back to the team's hospitality, where a dreaded team briefing would take place. 

''Obviously these aren't the results that we want. We want wins, podiums and points.'' Her team principal started off the meeting, standing at the head of the table. ''It is clear that changes need to be made, whether that be the car, the strategy or the driver even.'' The eyes of the team shifted from their leader to the young woman staring daggers at him. 

''It's not my fault that the fucking engine blows up or that another drivers decides he wants to play bumper cars.'' Y/N defended herself, not seeing why she should be replaced. 

He shook his head. ''I didn't say it was your fault, but we have to look at all the options and that includes you, Y/N.'' The man clarified, taking a deep breath. 

The woman rolled her eyes, causing Marco to send her a stern look that said ''Please, don't make this harder on yourself.'' She got his sign and sat up straight in her chair, figuring her slumping didn't give off a great impression. 

The briefing continued for another hour, going over all the alternatives they had and all the work they had to do while waiting for the next race weekend. ''Alright- thank you, everyone! Have a great break.'' The team principal dismissed the team. 

Y/N was the first one to get up and leave, debating if she would slam the door, but she didn't want a Kevin x Guenther moment with her boss. 

By the time she was on her way to her hotel, most fans had gone home themselves and the paddock was occupied by crew members cleaning the place up. Y/N had a slow pace while walking, not in any hurry to leave the circuit. 

''You're going back to the hotel?'' A voice behind her spoke up, making the female driver yelp as she didn't expect someone to walk up on her. 

Y/N turned around, Lando looking at her with a grin. ''Did I scare you?'' He laughed, finding amusement in making his friend flinch. 

''You could have been a serial killer for all I know, you idiot.'' She slapped his arm, the tension leaving her body as it was only Lando and not some creep. 

''Only on track.'' He winked. 

The young woman frowned at his action. ''Please, never do that again.'' Her feigned disgust with his wink resulted in a light push from her friend. 

''So… you're going to the hotel now?'' Lando asked her again, not having received an answer yet. 

Y/N nodded. ''Yeah, I could use some sleep before the flight tomorrow.'' 

''You, uh, wanna take a car together to the hotel? You know- that way we're not wasting gas, I guess.'' He nervously asked, mumbling the question almost under his breath. 

''Sure,'' Y/N chuckled, ''Seb will be proud of us.'' 

They decided to take his car as she wasn't in the mood to drive anymore and Lando didn't seem to mind. She was grateful for Lando's company, at least her bad day would end on a good note. 

''Sorry about the race today, I know you could have done more.'' Despite being competitors, they were also great friends and it's not fun seeing your friends have bad results. 

Y/N sighed. ''My team- they're, uh, thinking about replacing me.'' She wanted to get her worries off of her chest and Lando bringing up the race seemed like the perfect oppurtunity for it. 

''What?'' He exclaimed, not anticipating that sentence to come out of her mouth. 

''They say they just have to think about all the changes they could make to get better results, but they've been talking an awful lot about the junior drivers so I'm just preparing myself for it.'' She clarified for him, resting her head against the window. 

Lando let her words sink in. ''They- they can't possibly do that, you're one of the best drivers on the grid.'' It came out louder than he intended, but the thought of one of his best friends not being with him on track anymore upsets him. 

''They can do that,'' she sarcastically chuckled, ''I'm impressed I lasted this long- I just know the FIA will be throwing a party now that they don't have to be feminists anymore.'' 

''What do you mean 'lasted'? You're not going anywhere, we have enough races left where you can show your true skills.'' Lando took his eyes off the road to look her in the eye, perhaps wanting her to see how serious he was. 

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to talk about it any further. 

The car stopped in front of a red light. ''Hey,'' Lando put his hand on top of hers, ''I'm being serious. We've been racing against each other for over 10 years now- you're a good driver. You'll probably be a World Champion one day.'' 

''You really mean that?'' Her usual confident demeanour had been traded in for an insecure one, her voice coming out smaller than normal. 

He chuckled, nodding his head. ''Of course, I wouldn't lie to you.'' The gentle way he was looking at her assured her that he was in fact being serious and meant everything he said. 

''Thank you,'' Y/N turned her hand and squeezed Lando's, ''now, shut up and drive me to the hotel!'' She pushed his hand away. ''Enough of this emo shit.'' 

''This is the one time I am being nice to you and you just reject my love.'' 

''Stop being so emotional, Norris.'' 

''There she is!'' Daniel loudly announced as Y/N stepped onto the plane, his hands up in the air. 

She tiredly waved at everyone, exhausted from the lack of sleep she had gotten. The young woman groggily sat down next to her Australian colleague, Michael sitting in front of them. 

Daniel snickered at her disoriented state. ''Good morning to you, mate.'' He greeted her, his infamous bright smile on his face. 

''It's fucking early, what are you so happy about?'' She mumbled, while trying to find a good sleeping position. 

''I'm grateful that I get to live another beautiful day, Y/N! We don't appreciate our existence enough, we need to-''

''I'll be grateful for my life when you shut up and let me sleep.'' She interrupted him, closing her eyes and pulling her hat slightly over her face. 

The McLaren driver opted for another teasing comment, but he could see the obvious exhaustion she had going on and let her be, a light pat on the shoulder working as his way to say ''have a good nap''. 

About an hour later the turbulence of the plane woke her up from her much needed sleep. Y/N took her hat off and noticed Daniel still awake, scrolling on his phone while listening to music through his headphones. 

A soft push against his arm brought his attention from his device to the woman next to him, immediately smiling upon seeing that she's awake. ''Sleepyhead.'' 

The beam on his face slowly changed into a nervous frown, worrying his friend. ''What is it? The reality of life finally settled in?'' Y/N awkwardly said, trying to cheer him up. 

''No, uh, it's just that uhm interview you did with Nathalie yesterday- I watched it.'' He answered, sympathy written all over his face. 

''Oh,'' she sat up straight in her seat, ''well, you know it was just after the race so obviously I was very frustrated. You know how it is.'' The driver tried to come off as nonchalant, failing horribly. 

''Lando told me, Y/N.'' Daniel revealed, wanting her to drop the 'it's not a big deal'-act. 

She sighed. ''Oh, that little snake.'' She muttered under her breath. 

''No, I'm glad that he told me. He said he's never seen you so defeated and the way you were talking to Nathalie- you haven't given up, have you?'' Daniel had seen how her recent race results had affected her, but he wasn't aware how deep her frustrations and insecurities had settled in. 

Her silence to his question was an answer in itself. 

''You've been working your ass off since you were like what? 5-6? You're not gonna throw all of that away just because of 3 bad races, right? That's nothing like you.'' The Australian ranted, baffled over her ruined confidence. 

Y/N glanced outside her window, seeing they were high above the clouds. ''I'm not throwing anything away, it's just… my teams seems to have already made up their mind and are just waiting on the right time to tell me that someone else is taking my place.'' The young woman clarified, her words not helping Daniel's growing worries. 

''They would be fucking idiots to replace you, you know that.'' He sneered, rolling his eyes at the thought of another person driving in her seat. 

She weakly chuckled at his response, not finding much humour in the insult to her bosses. 

Daniel's shoulder gently pushed against hers. ''Hey, maybe you need to talk to Seb or Lewis, they're better at this pep-talk shit than I am.'' He suggested, figuring the two older men might have more of an influence on her. 

Y/N let his words process for a few seconds, considering seeking a listening ear in either of the world champions. ''I- I don't know, Dan. They probably have better things to do.'' 

''Like what?'' 

''I don't fucking know- planting trees, feeding Roscoe, whatever.'' She blurted out, making both of them laugh at the random activities they could be doing. 

''Just think about it, I think you'd feel a lot better after talking to one of them.'' Daniel didn't want to push her, knowing it would have the opposite effect on what he wanted for her. 

A tired smile made its way onto her face. ''I will, thank you.'' 

''Good,'' his face mirrored hers, ''and if they do replace you, they're just like Netflix.'' 

''Like Netflix?'' 

''A bunch of cunts.'' 

''I've never seen her that quiet.'' Sebastian mumbled to the Brit next to him, observing the young woman who sat slumped over in her chair. 

Lewis looked over at her, being as equally bewildered as his German colleague. ''I don't blame her, all the stuff they've been saying about her is awful.'' He whispered back. 

''What do you mean?'' Sebastian frowned. 

The Mercedes driver uncomfortably shifted in his head, leaning more towards his friend. ''People have been saying a lot of shit on social media and those fucking annoying journalists certainly don't help. Also, that interview their team principal did.'' 

Sebastian rolled his eyes at the mention. ''Hanna showed me, that was so out of line. He knows people have been wanting her out since the day she got in- shame on him for making all of that so public.'' 

Her team principal had given a quite lengthy interview over the break between the race weekends, publicising the team's problems and their possible solutions, which included a hint to a potential driver change-up. 

''None of the DNF's were even her fault, it's absolutely ridiculous.'' The slander on her name greatly upset Lewis, aware of the talent she possessed and it made him angry that there was even a chance that she might not be on the grid with them the next year. 

''I know and it has taken such a toll on her, Daniel said he talked to her, but I'm a little worried.'' The Aston Martin driver told Lewis, his puzzled look turning into one of sadness. 

The Brit scratched his voice. ''Maybe you can give her some confidence? You've known her for a long time, I'm sure she'll appreciate it.'' 

Sebastian slowly nodded his head, figuring the World Champion might be right. ''Yeah, I'll talk to her later.'' He confirmed, still watching the obvious daydreaming woman from across the room. 

The driver's briefing went on for about half an hour more, the director seeing the visible boredom on every person's face and calling it a day for everyone. 

Y/N couldn't have been more relieved that the meeting was finally over, wanting nothing more than going back to her own hospitality and figuring out ways to make the car work, and actually finish this time around. 

She was one of the last people to leave the briefing room, only George, Lewis and Sebastian walking behind her. The latter tapping her shoulder. ''Hey, haven't talked to you today.'' 

''Yeah, lots of briefings with the team, you know.'' The younger one responded, giving him a quick glance. 

''How's that going?'' 

The woman remained silent for a few moments, considering how much she should tell her mentor about the current state of her place in the team. ''Uhm, well, it's going… decent, I guess.'' Y/N muttered, trailing off. 

''Decent?'' Sebastian repeated, as if asking ''are you serious?'' 

''There are like a bunch of reporters around us, what do you want me to say?'' She replied, a defensive tone to her voice. 

The German patted her back, sensing her agitation. ''It's okay, let's discuss somewhere private.'' He calmed her down, suggesting a different place to have a conversation. 

''Okay.'' 

They opted for her personal driver's home, that being the closest space where they could talk with just the two of them. Some of her team's staff had given the Aston Martin driver some weird looks while they walked through the hospitality, but he brushed them off. 

The pair sat down on her small couch once they arrived, not much space between them. 

Y/N felt some nerves settling in her stomach as she waited for Seb to start speaking, not knowing what he was going to tell her. 

''I'm just gonna be straightforward,'' he started off, ''you can't continue with this attitude, cause you're only setting yourself up. You are a great driver, Y/N. We all have our off weeks, we're not perfect.'' 

''I understand that this isn't a nice situation to be in. Trust me, this green vegetable that I'm driving isn't doing much better at the moment,'' he chuckled, making her crack a smile, ''but if there's one person that can completely turn their season around, it's you.'' 

Y/N avoided eye-contact with him, not sure how to respond to his kind and encouraging words. ''I appreciate that, Seb. I'm not giving up, it's just… very difficult and people are constantly bringing it up, and making articles and shit- that doesn't help me at all. I'm still gonna do my best, but… yeah- it's just difficult.'' 

''I know it's hard and I've heard the media has been hard on you. That's what they do and they see you as an easier target for clicks and whatnot,'' Sebastian rolled his eyes at his own mention of the media, ''But you're better than believing their words.'' 

''You are a talented driver, you have so much potential. Do you think I would have spent all these years with you if I thought you shouldn't be in F1?'' He asked her, a look on his face that told her he wanted an answer. 

The young woman timidly shook her head. ''No, you wouldn't have done that.'' 

Sebastian smiled at her response. ''See?'' He put his arm around her, pulling her closer into him. ''Whether you believe it or not, you're leading this new generation. You're a decent car away from being a World Champion, you know that right?'' 

''Did you talk to Lando? He also said that.'' Y/N nervously grinned. 

''Just accept the truth!'' The German squeezed her shoulders. ''You've proven that you can do anything. You don't want to let down all those young girls that started karting because of you, right? What message would it send to all of them that their role model quit, because she got bumped off the road or her car simply decided to turn itself off.'' 

''You're right,'' she sighed, admitting to herself she needed to drop the pessimistic attitude, ''I don't just owe it to myself, but also to them.'' 

Sebastian nodded along to her words, letting out a deep breath. ''I'm relieved you're seeing it, I don't like seeing you like this. It's weird not seeing you smile or making fun of the drivers.'' He smirked, patting her shoulder. 

''I guess everyone deserved an off-day, tomorrow I'll start again.'' Y/N grinned, laughing at Sebastian's reminder of her fondness to poke fun at their colleagues. 

The senior driver gave her one last squeeze and stood up from the couch, adjusting his pants. ''No more frowns, alright? You're gonna do great this weekend and you're gonna show everyone why you deserve your seat.'' 

Y/N nodded, more confident than when she first walked back into her driver's room. ''Yes, I'm gonna do my best, Seb.'' 

They bumped their fists as if to solidify it was going to be a great race weekend for them both. 

''And go easy on me tomorrow with the teasing.'' 

''I'd rather be run off the track again then let that happen.''

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[drabblesandimagines]

Sweet & Salty

I'm feeling a bit sad today so wanted some comfort... Sebastian x (afab) reader, Stardew Valley, Fluffity fluff Warnings: Mention of recreational drug use

-

It’s been a day. You’d sat down heavily on your porch steps, trying to keep the tears at bay. You should probably go mope in your bed, instead of staring at the land that is causing you so much distress. Despite your carefully placed scarecrow, you must’ve miscalculated the distance because the crows have still had a go at your most recent plantings and that’s hard-earned money down the drain - again. You’ve been here two months now and, surely, by now you should know better. The farm has been somewhat transformed since you arrived - a mass of weeds, stone and dead branches - but it’s nowhere near how you remember it in your grandpa’s heyday. He would’ve never made such a rudimentary error in his scarecrow placement.

Some of the fences around your crop patches have started to erode too – it won’t be long until they need replaced, but you’re trying to save up your wood supplies to put in a coop from Robyn. You desperately want to add chickens to the farm as eggs would be steady income – or at least you reckon – but you also don’t want them pecking at your crops alongside the crows, so having a fence seems important too. Your endless to-do list swirls around your head again. Why’s everything so hard?

It's not just your failings on the farm on your mind, but also your lack at making any real friends around here. Shane glared at you this morning as he headed off to work. That’s not unusual, despite your best efforts of a smile and a friendly greeting. Then Haley looked you up and down, judging your dirty dungarees. You’d only popped into town to get some seeds from Pierre’s. It didn’t make sense to get changed… Elliott is sweet but locked away in his cabin most of the time, Emily in her own little world… Sebastian, Sam and Abigail have invited you to play pool with them, but they’re such a tight-knit group and you always feel like you’re missing out on the joke, especially when you were partnered up with Sebastian. He’d been teaching you how to hold the cue correctly, leaning over you, his breath tickling your ear. Sam and Abigail kept nudging each other and whispering, but you couldn’t catch what about and it was clear Sebastian was becoming irritated. You’d begun to think they were making fun of your abysmal pool skills.

Ugh. Your emotions are a rollercoaster and the twisting pain in your stomach reminds you why – stupid period. It emerged with a vengeance this morning. It had stopped in your last months of JoJo Corp. There was no chance you were pregnant, your last intimate relationship fizzling out a year previously, though you’d taken tests just to be sure. The doctor in Zuzu City said you were stressed, burnt out… that it would return once you were feeling better in yourself. So why had it returned now, of all times? You feel more stressed and burnt out than ever before, regretting ever moving here. Why did you think you could become a farmer…?!

The barrier finally breaks and you let out a sob, hugging your knees.

To your shame, there’s a scuffing footstep and your heart stops as you look up, worried who’s seen your breakdown.

“Sebastian?” You sniff. You’re tempted to rub the tears from your cheeks but maybe he hasn’t noticed in the evening light. The black-haired man is standing there looking sheepish, a brown paper bag from Pierre’s clutched in his hands.

“Er, hey…” He’s not meeting your eyes. Poor boy probably wants to run. “Sorry, I… I was just leaving Sam’s and I didn’t want to go through town and see everyone, so I thought I’d take the scenic route back home through your farm…”

“Oh.” You mumble, waving him on. “That’s okay. Go ahead.”

He takes a step as if to go on his way, but then hesitates. “Are… Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you plaster a smile on, which you’re sure makes you look ridiculous as the stupid tears are still flowing. “I’m just being silly. Don’t let me keep you.”

He stares at you for a moment, before a sympathetic smile graces his lips. “You’re a terrible liar, you know?”

“I’m not ly- Ow!” You flinch as your stomach cramps terribly and you squeeze your arms around it, hoping in some way it might alleviate the pain.

Sebastian is suddenly at your side – the paper bag from Pierre’s dropped to the ground. He’s kneeling down on the first porch step with a frown on his face. “Whoa, are you hurt? I can get Harvey…” His hand hovers over your arm,

“No, honestly, I’m fine…” You try and wave him off again with one hand, the other arm still wrapped around your stomach.

He stares at you, a raised eyebrow. He seems to be putting the clues together – the wincing, clutching your stomach, the tears… He nods, making up his mind and gets to his feet, picking up the discarded bag from Pierre’s as he does so.

“Come on, let’s get you inside.” He offers you his free hand.

“Thank you, but I’ll be okay. You get on home…”

“Farmer, I know I’m probably not the person you want to see right now, but let me help you out, okay? I can’t go home and just leave crying on your porch.” He waves his offered hand again. You look at Sebastian, hesitantly. He looks genuine, at least, but there’s something a little off about him tonight… Heck, you’ve already made a fool of yourself enough, so what’s one more thing?

This time you accept his hand and he easily pulls you to your feet and leads you up to your door. He opens it – you’d easily adapted to the habit of leaving the front door unlocked since moving to Pelican Valley.

You go to open your mouth, to tell Sebastian thank you, but he can go now. You’re inside, you’ll go to bed and pretend this never happened.

“Sit down.” He orders, pointing at your bed. “You like hot chocolate, right?” You wonder how he knows that, how he knows you have a stash. Had you mentioned it at the saloon before? “I’ll make you a cup.”

“But you don’t know where…”

“I’ll find it. Sit!” He pushes you gently towards the bed and you do sit, keeping a wary eye. To be honest, it is quite easy to find your cups and kettle. Robyn had advertised an extension to you but you don’t even want to think about the price and the materials needed. For now – perhaps even for the rest of your life - you’ve got a cupboard filled with crockery and silverware. The fire’s roaring away, you’re thankful you’d lit it earlier to try and make it cosy ahead of going to bed later on. The cabin always had a slight chill at night. Sebastian retrieves a mug and spoon, scooping the hot chocolate powder into the mug, fills the kettle with water from the jug you keep besides the cupboard, before taking it over to the fire to heat.

“Do you have a hot water bottle?” He asks over his shoulder.

“Huh?”

“Hot water bottle.” He enunciates.

“Y-yeah, I think it’s under my bed. Let me…” Before you can bend down, he drops to his knees and Sebastian is now crawling under the bedframe to retrieve it. You pull your legs up off the floor to the bed, not sure what to say.

He reverses back out, holding the fluffy hot water bottle in the air triumphantly, and gets back to his feet. “Finally, where do you keep the snacks?”

“I don’t have any. Sorry, I wasn’t really expecting to entertain.”

“Not for me,” a chuckle – it sounds a little odd coming from him - “..for you!”

“For me?” He’s acting so weird.

But he’s not listening, already rummaging around the brown bag from Pierre’s. He walks over to the sofa and empties the contents besides you – there’s a couple of packs of chips, cookies and candy. “Ta-da!”

You look at the assembled junk food and back up at the black-haired man, noticing his blood-shot eyes.

“You’re high.”

Sebastian laughs again, rubbing the back of his head. “Guilty. Is that a problem?”

“No, it just… explains a lot.” You wince again as the kettle on the fire whistles. Sebastian grabs the mitt you keep nearby for that exact purpose and places it on his hand, removing the kettle from the fire and placing it down on the hearth. Methodically, he pours some hot water in the hot water bottle, tightening the cap, before pouring some in in the cup he retrieved, stirring the hot chocolate powder until it dissolves. Once he seems happy with his work, he brings the two over to you on the bed.

“Okay, since you worked out my thing, it’s my turn. Time of the month, right?” He flops down next to you on the bed, ripping open a bag of chips. “My sympathies.” It feels surreal as he holds the bag towards you and you take a handful – maybe junk food would make you feel better, and the warmth of the hot water bottle is soothing too now against your sore tummy.

The only sound for a few moments is the rustle of the chip package and the crunching of said chips. You take a sip of hot chocolate, probably a weird combination at that moment in time, but it’s working.

“Sebastian…”

“Mm?” You’ve caught him with his mouth full.

“How are you so good at this?”

“Erm…” He swallows. “Well, I guess cos I have a sister and a mom… and a friend named Abigail.” He replies in a teasing tone. “Maru and Abi usually just get super pissy though. Mom’s the crier.” Sebastian leans forward and grabs the blanket off the end of your bed, throwing it over the both of your laps in a smooth motion. Who knew he could turn into a right chatterbox? “Wanna watch some TV?” He picks up the remote control and turns it on without waiting for a response, flipping through the channels. “Do you have a preference? Nothing deters Abi from horror, Mom and Maru go chick-flick mad…”

You burst into tears again.

“Whoa, okay, no TV! That’s fair too.”

“N-no, it’s n-not that.” You let out a shuddering breath. “Why are you being so nice?”

“Because we’re friends…?”

“No, everyone hates me here.” You know you’re being irrational now, but the floodgates have well and truly opened.

“Come on, you know that’s not exactly true.” His face looks serious now.

“It is. I don’t know what I was thinking – I worked in customer support, why did I think I could farm the land? I’m going to be broke by the end of winter if I lose another batch of crops and this town is so tight-knit that they’re never going to like me being here.”

“I like you being here.”

“No, you’re just saying that because you feel sorry for me.” You go to take another handful of chips, but he snatches the bag out of your reach indignantly.

“I am not.”

“You are.” You clip back.

Sebastian lets out a huff in frustration and he acts before he can even consider the consequences. He puts a hand on the side of your face, turning it slightly and presses a gentle kiss on your lips for a moment or two, immediately causing your tears to cease.

“Would I kiss you if I didn’t like you?”

“I…” You don’t have any words.

He swipes his tongue over his lips. “Mm, salty. That’s not how I expected our first kiss to go, I’ll be honest.”

“Our first kiss?” Your face is on fire. It has to be on fire, why else would it feel so hot?

“Yeah, well, I told you I like you, didn’t I?” He grins, before it drops. “Though I’ve just realized that you probably don’t like me like that, I’m high, and now I’ve made this a hundred times wor-…”

You cut him off, caressing his lips with your own for a moment.

“No. I like you too.”

“Well, that’s that settled, then, isn’t it?” He leans back, a smug look on his face before he grabs the packet of candy. “Shall we see what a sweet kiss tastes like next?”

-

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi I'm also running an event for x reader fics to celebrate 200 followers, so please check it out and send in your requests.

[aemondsbeloved]

Poppies and Aster

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

summary: on a warm day, Aemond spends his time with you, his lady wife and your two daughters in the gardens at the Red Keep. His duties, what others may think when they see him vulnerable with his family, and everything else does not matter so long as he is with his little family (1.1k)

notes: reader is disabled but what disability she has is not specified (she does use a cane which is mentioned), very fluffy, dad Aemond, this is unedited

If someone had asked you those years ago when you were still a maiden yet to be wed if Aemond Targaryen would be sitting in the secluded patch of grass in the royal gardens having a picnic with you and your children on a sunny afternoon you might have laughed at the prospect.

As cordial as Aemond had been even before you were betrothed and merely two people who attended the same certain events hosted by the King and Queen, he had never been one for slowing down. You would have said all Aemond loved to do in the afternoon was train with Ser Cole or perhaps spend time in the library reading.

But out in the gardens? Where everyone would see and perhaps stare at him? Oh no, you would never find him there.

He had once told you after you were betrothed that he disliked the gardens because people tended to… stare, to say the least. Perhaps in the secluded part of the library or in the training yard no one cared to pointedly stare at his scar or eyepatch. In the gardens this was not the case.

And yet here he was with you and your two daughters. Aerea past her seventh name day and Daena past her fifth. Your eldest sat besides yourself and Aemond with a sketchbook in her lap as she drew the bush not far from your family’s spot in the shaded patch of grass. You smiled at the sight, her face scrunched up so slightly in concentration. She would suck in her small cheeks when she did this and purse her lips in focus, making her look much like Aemond. Her hair so silver highlighted by the sun and the breeze that drew wisps of her hair from her braid made her look even more like him.

Besides her in Aemond’s lap was Daena with a cluster of violet and blue colored flowers in her lap. Her head of silver hair was bowed down in concentration as she threaded them together in the shape of a crown. She always insisted on wearing her hair down, detesting braids of any kind. Gods forbid you keep her hair out of her face. Sometimes when her Aunt Helaena persuaded her she would have her hair braided around her head like a halo if only because that is how Helaena always wore it. But now with her hair down in its natural state you could see how her curls that looked striking like your good mother’s went past her shoulders and were picked up in the breeze.

Aemond insisted their silver locks and violet eyes that looked just like his did not make them look like him at all. Frequently he said they had all of you, your nose, your lips, your eye shape. “A good thing,” he said to you once in your chambers as the sky set in deep oranges and pinks in the early eve. From his seat in the chair by the fire he had a strikingly calm and fond energy about him. “They’ll be as beautiful as their mother.”

Now, his book was long forgotten besides him as it laid in the grass. You were no better as your embroidery was in your lap, the needle having not been picked up in quiet some time. The cane by your side had been placed on the grass was a reminder of how long you had been here.

Daena beamed as she lifted up the finished crown in her hands to examine it. She turned around in her father’s lap to face him. Silently she lifted the crown of purple and blue flowers to Aemond.

“For me?” he asked her, gently moving his hands in front of her.

She grined toothily. “Blue poppies and purple aster,” she looked down at her flowers as if to check she got the color and names right. It would not surprise you as she was as meticulous as Aemond was. She looked back up at him and looked more giddy than before. “Just like your eyes Kepa!”

Years ago when you had first come to court you would have thought Aemond tempermental at best. The very first rumor you had heard from another lady your age was that he had screamed at a servant when she saw him without his eyepatch on when bringing something to his chambers. As you saw him with your daughter, tilting his head down so she could place it on his head, you were glad you never paid attention to those rumors. His hands were strong and could kill but he only held the ones he loved with gentleness and loved them with reverence.

The people of court could never know how much Aemond loved his family.

He looked over to where his elder daughter sat on the grass beside him, finishing the sketch of flowers she had been working on. The charcoals of beautiful vivid colors he had gifted her from Essos had gone to good use as the deep pink of the flower came to life again on her sketchbook. “How do I look?” he asked her with a soft smile.

For the first time that afternoon the concentrated look of sucked cheeks and pursed lips disappeared and she gasped in wonder, reaching the gingerly touch a blue flower. “Ao jurnegon gevie, Kepa.” You look beautiful, Father.

Was it the reverence for her father that made him smile or was it simply that he was with his family on an afternoon of such bliss? Maybe it was something that he did not think he deserved when he was younger and always thinking of the legacy in histories instead of the people around him. Aemond reached out and stroked the side of her head lovingly. “Good,” he chuckled approvingly. “Your valyrian improves every day, jorrāelagon zaldrīzes.” Dearest dragon.

At her father’s approval Aerea beamed much like her little sister, though hers was remarkably less toothy. It was a beam of a smile all the same. Daena went back to making another flower crown which you suspected would be yours. After that she would undoubtedly make her big sister one too.

Your little family was content here in the shade and as another breeze picked up Daena’s silver curls, you had no intention of picking up the embroidery in your lip. Glancing at Aemond who you found already looking at you with a soft, loving smile, you returned his smile and knew that like you, he had no intention of picking up his book either.

If some ladies and lords in the court caught sight of the fearsome Aemond Targaryen with his family they made no move to make it known. Years ago Aemond might have wanted to avenge any slight, even that of a whisper about him that was mere gossip, but now he seemed to care little for that.

+

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comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[footiehoemcfc]

We'll be Alright

Hi :) okay so this is the first fic I've ever written and the first one I've ever posted so I'm still new to trying and figuring out how this works. I've always wanted to write one and I had this concept on my notes for a while now. I also want to thank @carlottawllms and @cityfanchelseaslut because with just their writing they played a small part in inspiring me to do this <3. Anyways this will deff have a second part or three idk yet, but it will not be out until like a week or two cause I'm going a on a trip. I hope you like it and if you have feedback lmk ily. Angst, tw some curse words, 2.7k words PART 2, 3 and 4 (final) on my masterlist!

Life lately had been stressful to say the least. It had taken a toll on you and Mason. You were in the middle of a busy period with your company, a lot of meetings, projects and deadlines. On top of that, you’ve had family problems. Mason was dealing with social media scrutiny, transfer rumors, little to zero game time and it affected him, more than he liked to admit. You both were really just tired of everything and the only thing both of you wanted was a break from everything and be with one another. 

Your relationship was not new, but it was not long enough for it to have been through really rough patches. You knew at some point it would come though, Mason travels a lot and is always training. However, you always thought that whatever rough patch you’d go through would be easy with him since you two were pretty good at communicating. This hasn’t been the case at all. Ever since the new year Mason has been more and more distant and wanted to talk less about everything. You could feel it, you felt lonely. You felt like you were just there, you did not feel like his girlfriend, you felt like he didn’t love you as much. 

It was already dinner time and you were cooking for the both of you, something you always liked to do. You heard the front door open and Mason walk in through the door. You smiled at him and he gave you a smile as well. “Hi my love, smells good” he said as he placed his keys on the key holder. “Hi baby, thanks I’m making this Mexican bowl I saw on tiktok thought you might like it”, he came over to you and gave you a kiss on the cheek saying “Thank you”. 

When you finished cooking, you both sat down and ate almost entirely in silence until he decided to tell you something you were not expecting. “I had a meeting with Lew and my dad today, about my contract”, you had no idea where this was going since it was pretty much the first time he was talking about this topic with you. You nodded for him to go on, “well I think a transfer would be the best option for me in the summer, there are a couple of clubs that have shown interest so…yea”. What? You thought to yourself. You were so confused. He had always wanted to stay here why is it changing all of a sudden? You met this boy 2 years ago, he would always go on and on about how much he loved the fans, the team, the staff, the stadium, the atmosphere, so how come he wants to leave now? At the beginning of the relationship you would’ve agreed immediately not being a huge Chelsea fan yourself, but after being with him and getting to know him, you could care less what club he was playing, you knew how much he loved living here and being on the team. Sure, this season has been far from what they thought it would be, but you were not expecting this. You had your doubts, why is he wanting a move now? 

“Hello, are you there?” Mason said chuckling interrupting you from all of your thoughts. “I thought you’d be more excited or happy about this…” he said, “No, I mean, yes, I’m just shocked sorry. I wasn’t expecting that, especially since you love it here and since I’ve known you you’ve never mentioned leaving or anything like that.” “Yea I know I never have but, you know my contract ends next year, the new offer is not ideal, and Lewis and my dad think it’s the best option” he said looking at you, “okay” you weren’t sure what to say. You knew it was not his idea. As much as he needed to take into consideration other people’s opinions on this matter, you thought it was best if he made a decision based on what he thought it was best for him. “Okayy what?” “Nothing” “Y/n I know you, you are biting your tongue”. 

Well, if you promised to be honest with him you would. “I just think…I mean is that what you really want? You want to leave? Or is it just the easy way out? Or just because your family said it was best you think it is?” you said this in a loving tone, trying to really figure out why he was trying to decide so quickly on this. “I-I do want this” he stuttered, you knew deep down he was still debating whether it would be a good idea or not. “Okay, then that’s fine” you said getting up and picking up your plate. He placed his fork down and looked frustrated. “You don’t believe me” “Mason plea-“ “This is going to be the best for me, I know you never really cared or supported chels but it will be the same with the new club so not much will change and it won’t be that hard for you” you stopped what you were doing while he said this. You never cared? You knew this would turn ugly now that both of you were getting more upset. “I never cared?! I always go to your games when I can, or I watch them from home. You know damn well wherever you go I will support you because you are my boyfriend” “Then why is this so bad for you?” “Because I know this is not what you want!” as much as you didn’t want to raise your voice, you were getting tired of trying to make him understand what bothered you.

You wanted him to be happy, and if that meant leaving then so be it, but it just confused you how he would make such a big decision in a span of a few hours without thinking about it more. Hell, he could barely decide what to wear for a night out in two hours. “It’s what I want now!” He had never raised his voice like this with you. You could cut the tension with a knife in the room. “Have you not seen the shit show this season has been!? Of course not, you’ve been busier than ever with your job and your office meetings.” “And don’t you think that maybe next year it will be different? You are bullshitting yourself into thinking that going to another place is the better option when you and I both know you’ve never ever dreamed of that. Just because people that love you want that for you does not mean you need to do it. Think for yourself. And I do care, I watch every single game of yours, I never say anything about it cause I know you come home upset and never talk to me about it…and that’s…that’s a whole other thing” whispering the last part and looking away. 

This was it. This was the rough patch you were anticipating with him. You didn’t want to have this fight but maybe it was for the best. You were not planning on telling Mason how you’ve felt the last couple of months to not add anything more on his plate, but tonight maybe would be the day. You were tired of it, the first time you are hearing about his contract is today, never discussing it with you. You knew it would be an option and you would follow him anywhere, but it hurt that he could never talk to you about it and have your input as well, every big decision you’ve made you would always ask his opinion. “What whole other thing?” “Mason…I feel like…I feel like the past 2-3 months I’ve just been trying for you to talk to me and for you to let me help you and you just don’t want it. I didn’t even know when you were injured, I find out today that you made up your mind about what you want to do, I never knew anything about this whole thing. I’m out of the loop on your life. I feel like I’m there for you or at least try to cause you don’t’ let me, and you never bother to be there for me, I’ve been going through a lot too at work and with my family.” After saying that you had no idea how this would go down. To be honest, recently you could never tell in which mood Mason would be. You did not blame him though, it has been incredibly hard for him, but you needed him as well.

After you said this his face, just said it all. “Y/n this whole year has been shit, I don’t need this” Ouch. You excepted different outcomes from this, but him not caring AGAIN was not one of them. “You don’t need what? Me? This relationship? To talk about it?” You were getting more and more upset, you felt like he was invalidating your feelings. “No, I don’t need more problems, I already have enough bullshit to deal with. I don’t talk to you about it because I know it will stress you out, more than you are already.” You scoffed hearing this. “Again, you don’t believe me fucking hell” “No I don’t Mason, how come you can open up and talk to your friends and not me?” Mason started grabbing his face and pacing around the room. He didn’t want to have this conversation, you could visibly tell. But you were adamant to figure out why he was being like this with you. “You are so selfish sometimes.” 

After everything you have done, for him to call you selfish was the tip of the iceberg. “Selfish!? Selfish? Are you being serious right now? Selfish because I want to feel like your fucking girlfriend again?!” “You are!” This was getting heated very quickly and you didn’t like it. What was supposed to be a nice dinner with him just turned into probably the biggest argument you two have ever had. “Mason” you tried calming yourself down to talk to him so he would do the same as well. “Listen, I feel the way I fee-“ “Do you like seeing me fail here to feel better about yourself? Is that what this is?” “What?” You were shocked. How did it go from you being selfish to know you wanting him to fail. It’s like both of you were throwing in everything, every single thought you two have had the past month because you haven’t been communicating. Being selfish was one thing, but him thinking that low of you hurt, specially because you have always rooted for him. “Where the hell did that come from?” You need to know if you did something to make him think that way, you were certain you hadn’t. “It doesn’t matter” he was about to walk to the main entrance of the house to go upstairs. “No, what is that about?” He stopped. He didn’t turn around, debating whether to keep arguing or just leave it and go upstairs. He finally turned around, “Jayden had that thought and…I don’t know I feel like now that you think I’m making the wrong decision maybe he is right” Jayden. The one friend of his that had some sort of vendetta against you. You were always nice to him, but he was a prick. You had your reasons to dislike him and Mason knew you two did not get along but you were not going to be that girlfriend that wants their boyfriend to cut someone off their lives. You were aware he didn’t like you too, why? He had always said Mason “settled” too quickly and he was too young to be “fucking around with just one girl”. Jayden loved going out, getting drunk and have a crazy night. Mason did not, but Jayden always thought it was you telling him not to go out drinking or something. 

You snapped back to reality. “Jayden? Out of all of your friends, you are going to believe Jayden? The guy who hates me for god knows what?” Mason was just blank, he was slowly realizing how ridiculous that sounded, especially since it was coming from someone who doesn’t really know you. But that, that was your tipping point. You felt like you had enough. First, being called selfish and now this. You wanted to cry, not because of the situation itself but because it hurt that after all the effort you’ve made to be there for him even thought you were having a hard time to, he would think like that. You gathered up the courage to say what you had to say, “well you know what, if you want to be talking to your friends about all of this and not me, go ahead. I’m done, and you can tell Jayden to go fuck himself, and so can you.” You walked up to the couch to grab your overnight bag, put your shoes and jacket on and leave. You did not want to be with him now. You felt like he was disrespecting you. He tried to stop you from leaving the kitchen. You realized that was not all you had inside you. 

“Y/n stop please, we can talk about this” just as you were about to open the front door, you decided to let it out. “Oh, now you want to talk. You want to believe what your friends say? Go ahead. I’ve been so patient Mason I really have. I’ve come here after every game to try and take your mind off it and the only way it worked was when it was sex, I’ve been trying for you to talk to me but no you have your stupid fucking friend, I’ve been trying to get you help and no you don’t need it and I’m worrying too much. I’ve been waiting for YOU to ask me how I am and actually care about my life as well but you haven’t cause you don’t. I’ve been feeling like a fucking ghost in your house and with you, all while I’ve felt like shit cause my job is killing me, I feel like I will literally break down any day now and I STILL make the fucking effort to come here because I know you are not okay after not winning another fucking game. So I am not selfish, I’m not against the idea of you leaving just because of me, I don’t like seeing you fail just to feel better about myself, I am just fucking tired of this and tired of feeling like shit and trying to figure out what the fuck I did wrong and if you still even love me because every time you’ve said it the last months it just sounds like you’re saying it out of habit. So, you figure out what you want, think whatever you want to think about me based on what your stupid friends say more specifically the same one that does not like me. I’m leaving.” It was like the weight of the world came off your shoulders. 

You never ever raise your voice or snap like this. But having felt so sad, unappreciated and just not loved made you say all of this. Mason just stood there listening to you. You tried getting all of it out without tearing up, but you couldn’t. You opened the door and left. Mason was hurt, he hated that you have felt that way for so long. He didn’t mean for it to become this huge. He knows he was wrong in assuming that of you, he knows he was wrong in believing something Jayden had said. He had no idea how was going to fix it, but he was determined to do it.

[grandlinedreams]

Omg, i like the way you wrote Law get treated by reader. So i was wondering if you can have Law in middle of struggle? Like, he was already on his bed but he keep his eyes opened when he was super tired. And he keep thinking dark thought or dream. Maybe at that time, reader was away or came into his room later to comfort him 👀

But if you don't wanna write similar scenario, ignore this ask wink

Hiya!! I'll never turn down a chance to write Law stuff when he gets the comfort he deserves!! I hope this is to your liking, bb!!

[Heads up!: mentions of nightmares/anxiety, set between zhou/wci and wano]

Some days are better than others. There are weeks where he doesn't think of Corazon or his family at all ㅡ and almost thinks he's finally learning to let it go.

And then he catches a glimpse of something ㅡ the feathered collar of his own coat around his neck, patches of his skin that are a shade or two lighter than the rest, a tickle in his throat that won't go away ㅡ and he's drowning again. They seep into his skin, sticky and heavy and dragging him down until he's gone days without sleep because he doesn't want them to follow him into his dreams.

Tonight is one of those nights. Maybe its for the fact he has more people he has to be responsible for the safety of right now, people depending on him to be stable, to have an answer for everything.

And then there's a tiny voice that notes how much colder his bed is right now, absent of another body ㅡ you. It'd been a quiet discussion of you going with the Strawhats to retrieve their cook, mostly because with you tagging along he can trust they won't get into too much trouble ㅡ he hopes, anyways.

But he feels your absence more acutely right now, moving from his bed to his desk and retrieving your vivre card from where he's tucked into a drawer in his desk. It inches slowly and steadily, and he's tempted to follow it instead of continuing on to Wano. But he knows bettet, and he also wonders when exactly he'd gotten so soft.

It's all your fault. You, with your kindness and boundless patience, strong and dependable ㅡ but he can't hate you for it. Could never hate you for it.

Knowing sleep won't come easily and desperate to at least try, his attention turns to the transponder snail on his desk. He listens to the 'purururu', ready to back out the longer it takes ㅡ and then he hears your voice.

"Law?"

"Did I wake you?"

"No," you answer, and he can hear you shift, the creak of wood and distant sound of wind and ocean. "I figured they needed sleep, so I'm taking over watch for right now."

"You need to sleep too," he says, brow knitting, and your laugh in response has butterflies stretching their wings in his stomach.

"Is that why you called? To scold me?" Your tone sobers for a moment. "Everything is okay, right? I didn't think you'd run into trouble after Zhouㅡ"

"Everything is fine," he answers. Truth be told his guests are getting on his nerves a little, but he isn't going to say that. "I just...miss you."

In the brief gap of silence that follows, Law grapples with the sudden fear that he's too much. Too needy after so long of not allowing himself to be. Too demanding.

"I miss you too," comes your soft reply, washing away that burst of fear. "You can't sleep, can you."

It's dangerous that you know him so well even now, but still a comfort. "Maybe," he answers, listening to you sigh.

"Go lay down." When he doesn't answer, you press further. "Just do it, I have an idea." He debates for a moment before he complies, carrying the transponder snail with him.

You listen to the sound of blankets rustling, the creak of the mattress ㅡ and when it stops, you speak. "Close your eyes, and I'll talk. You don't have to sleep, but just listen, okay? Let your body rest."

"It'd be easier if you were here." It's a quiet admission, one that hadn't come without lots of patience and reassurances that you won't disappear on him, won't leave without a fight.

"I know," you answer. "But we'll be back together before you know it." You adjust to get comfortable yourself, watching the pale break of waves on the horizon. And then you begin talking.

It ranges from what's unfolded on the Sunny during your stay (you'll try not to take the Heart Pirates and their brand of natural chaos for granted anymore) to more general observations, then to stories of your childhood.

It doesn't matter what you talk about because when you finally pause, you can only hear the soft cadence of breathing from Law's end rather than the hums and scoffs he'd been answering with. He's asleep ㅡ at least you hope he is, keeping your voice soft as you whisper, "Sweet dreams, Law. I love you."

And you resume your watch, at peace with the sound of waves and the sound of him sleeping.

[justhere4kpop]

Home

Biker!Seonghwa x Nurse!Reader

Your pregnancy cravings kick in at 2am, unfortunately, your partner is part of a biker gang....and unfortunately, he loves trouble. At least you love him, and at least you can patch him back up.

warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, and slight gang-related activity. brief mentions of Self-doubt.

w/c: 2020

tags: @cromernet, @starillusion13

Masterlist

~~~~~~

This wasn’t the first time you had asked your partner to go and get you food at 2 in the morning, it certainly wasn’t going to be the last with the cravings setting in. You looked down at the swell in your stomach, much further along than comfortable, with the constant pressure on your bladder, the backache, your feet getting more swollen every day, the mood swings, the constant feeling of maybe this is a heart attack, everything feels like it’s going too slow and too fast at the same time, honestly the whole situation is overwhelming. Not to mention your partner's less-than-desired lifestyle, the danger, the fights, the injuries….sometimes it’s too much. Trying to convince him to get a van and not attach the car seat to his motorcycle, okay that was a joke he got you a brand new car with everything you could need the next day.

Yes the world sees Seonghwa as a hardened criminal in one of the most notorious biker gangs in the country, but to you, that’s your partner, soft, doting, loving, caring, sweet. That’s your Hwa, even when you call him crying because you’re scared, when you called him apologizing for even getting pregnant in the first place, when you found out you were having a girl, and when you wake him up at 2am because you can’t sleep now that your daughter has decided she wants ice cream. He’s always there to take care of you. 

“Hwa I’m sorry.” you mumbled into the phone. “I should’ve gone myself.”

“Nonsense it’s just around the corner, now do you want Chocolate? Strawberry? Peanut Butter?” he smiled looking at the ice cream selection. He loves you.

“Whatever is on sale.” you pick at your fingernails sitting on the couch.

“I know your favorite is Strawberry right now does that sound good?”

“...yes.” you blushed a little. “Hwa I’m-”

“Darling, please…it’s the least I can do. I’ll be home soon.” he smiled into the phone, he can’t wait for his daughter to be here, his little princess.

Always comforting. Always just what you need. Your Seonghwa, your home. Everytime he’s there it reminds you why this isn’t so scary anymore. He’ll always be there.

-------

“H-Hwa?” your voice trembled holding the phone up to your ear. It wasn’t possible you were careful, you were just feeling a little ill and Seonghwa wanted you to see the doctor.

“Darling? What’s wrong? Did everything at the doctors go ok?” he questioned worry lacing his voice.

“I-I’m so sorry!” the tears began streaming down your face. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been more careful I’m sorry!”

“Hey hey baby please, you’re scaring me, what could possibly be wrong? Are you ok?”

“I….I-I’m pregnant.” you whispered in the phone, sobs beginning to bubble up in your throat. “I understand if…” you want to leave…. He was in a biker gang, he couldn’t possibly want a baby….Just then he let out the most enthusiastic yell he’s ever felt come out of his mouth.

“We’re having a baby?!” you could hear the smile through the phone. “You and me? A baby?”

“Hwa?”

“Where are you? I’ll come get you! Stay right there I’ll….Appa is on his way!” he smiled and held the phone tighter.

When he got to you it was like your world froze, he ran up to you and spun you around.

“You’re happy?” you looked at him as he held your face.

“If you think for one second I had no intentions of keeping you forever you are mistaken. In fact I’d say just plain wrong. A baby….our baby.” he smiled and moved one of his hands to your hip and then just in front to your stomach.

----------

Here you were….sitting on the couch crying again over remembering how excited he was to learn of the pregnancy, a surprise for sure but now…a much welcomed surprise. Sure you had doubts and fears, would you be a good parent, would your daughter even like you….would Seonghwa still love you? He proves the last one every day, never complaining once about having to help or that you’re asking too much. You’ve seen him on the streets, he’s harsh, angry, mean…but that’s not the same Seonghwa that’s not the same dork who comes home and wraps his arms around you and hums into your ear, that’s your Seonghwa, that’s your home. Seonghwa sure is taking a long time to get home…Let me try his phone again.

--------------

“And just what is one of the Chili Peppers doing here?” a voice sounded behind Seonghwa as he hung up the phone holding two containers of Ice Cream.

“I should be asking what a member of the Wolfgang is doing here, since this is Pepper territory after all.” Seonghwa turned seeing their main rival.  “Hello, Minho.”

“Seonghwa.” he nodded. “Ice Cream? At 2am?”

“Could be asking why you’re here as well.”

“Oh you know the wife and the cats….all very needy especially with a little one on the way.” he smiled before taking the bag from the cashier.

“Oh congratulations, I’ll have to send a gift.” Seonghwa smiled bagging his items up.

“Depends is it going to be like the birthday present you sent 4 years ago?” he held up the side of his shirt revealing a scar.

“Not with a little one on the way, I was thinking more like a breathable blanket, in case they put it over their head so they don’t hurt themselves.” he smiles thinking about what you told him.

“And the Ice Cream?” Minho raised an eyebrow.

“Craving. Sometimes I just get hungry.” he wasn’t about to reveal that he wasn’t single, let alone you were 7 months pregnant with his child.

“I am sorry I have to do this….just business.” Minho shrugged.

“Well hopefully the Ice Cream doesn’t melt before this is over then.” Seonghwa dropped the bag as they stepped into the nearby alleyway. Don’t worry, he’ll be home soon.

-------

“And why didn’t you answer your phone, I’ve been worried sick sinc-” you berated him walking through the front door, stopping upon seeing his condition. “Seonghwa!” you waddled over quickly seeing the blood on his face.

“Don’t move too fast.” you both said to each other as you pulled him to the bathroom and told him to sit on the counter.

“Darling I’m okay.” he held your hand as you held a worried expression on your face cleaning him up. 

“You’re bleeding.” you stated.

“You should see the other guy.” he chuckled.

“Did you??”

“No it was Minho. He’s probably going to be feeling that for a while.” he winced when I applied alcohol to the wound on his forehead.

You sighed. “His wife is going to make sure he feels it for the rest of his life. They’re a perfect match honestly.”

“Oh you two have met?”

“Oh yes we see the same prenatal doctor, told me her husband was in a biker gang and is reckless, likes to fight this one a lot, always gets injured…I told her it was relatable.” I gave him a pointed look.

“Except I usually win.”

“I wouldn’t call this winning.”

“Reminds me of how we met.” he has a dreamy smile on his face.

“Oh you mean when you barged into the clinic I work at bleeding out onto the floor?”

“Ah you remember it too beautiful.” he takes my hand in his.

-------------

“H-Help.” came from the unkempt looking man. He put his arms on the desk blood hitting the papers. “I-I think I was stabbed.”

“Y/n!” the front desk attendant called over and in rushed who he would describe as an angel, the most perfect person he’s ever seen….why does she look so worried for him….why are the corners of his vision going dark.

He faints.

When he wakes again his in an all too bright room in a lumpy bed with IVs and monitors hooked up to him.

“Morning sleeyhead.” came a voice from beside him “You’ve been out for three days due to blood loss…don’t worry you should make a fine recovery.” she looked at him. Wow. even more beautiful up close. “I have to change your bandages so try to sit still for me.”

“S-Sure.”

“Do you have a name or should we keep calling you John Doe?” she got out the gauze and everything needed to clean the wound.

“S-Seonghwa. My name is Seonghwa.”

“Well Seonghwa, due to your great observation skills you were in fact stabbed. Luckily it was a mindless blow nothing more than a big bleeding wound.” she looked up at him. “I’m your nurse, and the one who stitched you up, y/n.”

“y/n.” he liked the way it felt on his tongue, liked the way it sounded hitting his ears. He enjoyed your sarcasm and the slight smile you gave him, he enjoyed the scent of you perfume hitting his nose. “Thank you.”

“Kinda my job.” she smiled up at him.

-----------

“You changed you shampoo scent since we first met.” he looked at me cupping my cheek.

“A lot of things have changed since we first met, I think the biggest one is between us.”

“I love the snark you have.”

“Hopefully you’ll get a double dose here soon.” I finished cleaning small cuts and putting bruise cream on him. “Hopefully one of these days I’ll ask you to go get Ice Cream and you won’t get into a fight before coming back.”

“He did start it.”

“I know love.” I kissed his cheek.

I went to open the ice cream now that my partner was home and bandaged up.

“Well what do you know.” he chuckled holding me from behind. “I guess I did run a little late.”

“You think?” I looked at the soup of strawberry ice cream leaking out of the container into the bag.

“Here, you can still drink it…and I’ll hold you while you do.” he ushered us over to the couch with a straw and laid me down with him as he held the bump that was his daughter and I sat there drinking what was my Ice Cream.

Yeah this is my Seonghwa….My Home.

Bonus!

“And here comes the Strawberry for my angel Junghwa.” he smiled holding up the mashed strawberries on the spoon for the giggling child.

“Appa!” she smiled and threw her arms up at the fruit on the spoon blubbering and other noises coming out.

“Did you….did you just say Appa?” Seonghwa had tears gather in his eyes. “y/n!”

You ran into the room thinking there was an injury of some sort. How could there be the apartment was completely baby proof, she barely got a scratch running into anything and if she did Seonghwa was there to call for you and act like she was dying.

“She said…she…she said,..”

“Appa!” the girl chimed in again laughing at his shocked expression. “Appa-pa-pa-pa.”

“Oh sure I carry her for 8 and a half months, and you feed her strawberries and she says dad first.” I chuckled and held him as he cried tears of joy being his sweet princess’s first word. 

“I love you so much princess.” Seonghwa picked up the smiling girl and kissed her face as tears fell down it. “Take that Minho….my daughter is smarter than your son, already talking. And you look just like your eomma, beautiful and smart, the whole package.” he gleams.

“Ok finish feeding her Appa, then its nap time.”

“Appa.” she says again making him smile over and over hearing his daughter talk to him.

After she ate and was put down to nap we finally got our alone time, no rushing out to go to work or do any dangerous activities like get Ice Cream. I finally got to sit there in the presence of my now fiancee.

“I love you y/n. Thank you so much for Junghwa.” he kissed my temple.

“I love you too Hwa.” I smiled and he snaked his hand around my front, holding me so preciously.

“Let’s have another.” he smiles.

[soupfiction]

Late (NSFW)

Pairing: Sierra Six x Female!Reader

Warnings: Minor description of injury, mention of blood, and unprotected sex (don’t do this!). No other sex-related warnings I don’t think but let me know if there are any!

Word Count: 3.7K

Summary: For the first time, Six is late. But not without a good reason.

A/N: Tried a bit of a different writing style. Feedback is appreciated!

Six should be home by now.

Time schedules were either completely null or explicitly stated in his particular job field. A plane here, a week to drive a knife between some poor guys ribs there, then done. Money wired into his bank account before he even landed back in the states. Before he could even waltz through the threshold of your shared apartment. Other times, a kill was written down to the second he was meant to execute it. Chattering com in his ear and finger hovering over whatever long range gun they supplied him with.

The latter was your favorite. At least then he could whisper when he’d be back between kisses, hands cupping your cheeks and assuring you that you could both have dinner together because he’d be back before that time. The assurance was nice. It offered a timetable in which your worries could be left off the table, mind confident that everything is alright because he’ll be back soon, and if he wasn’t, then you’d worry. But he was always back.

Until now.

The cool air of the apartment is dead silent. Suffocating. It consumes and warps, amplifying the sound of the ice machine whirring on, making the beginning of it almost sound like a door opening. You stare ahead, wooden door shut firmly but unlocked. Ready for his hand to wrap around the biting cold metal of the doorknob and to walk in, throwing down his black backpack and giving you that sweet smile in greeting. A softness only for you—something you have been without for over two weeks now.

A heavy feeling settles in your gut as the clock by the door ticks on, slow and fast all at the same time. He’s late by almost two hours now. No call, no text, and still no Six. Your phone sits on the kitchen table, screen dark and quiet. Sometimes, out of the corner of your eye, you think it lights up despite the lack of noise that usually accompanies a notification. Muteness prevails, yet you turn your head towards the electronic anyways, tapping the screen to see your home wallpaper staring back at you and nothing else.

Your eyes sting, water rising to combat it and to get you to blink and shut your eyes for just a moment. Footsteps sound outside in the hallway, your back goes straight, muscles tensed and ready to shoot up from your chair and to the door. It passes, just like it has the other few times. Neighbors, likely coming home from a night out, stomping on the short carpet and to their own sections of the apartment. You blink, gaze blurry.

It’s past three in the morning now. The ticking hand of the clock has came and went over the number, not hovering over it like your stare did. Tck-tck-tck. It’s constant. You feel the tears coming.

Then, heavy-set footfalls rise above the ever present sound of the moving hour hands. Distant, but they itch at something that sits in your brain. Familiarity settles in, washing away any ounce of worry and replacing it with air in your chest, making you feel like you’re about to burst with each thud.

The doorknob rattles. You stand so abruptly that the chair scrapes against the wooden floor.

Blood. Lots of it. It’s smeared across his face, right cheek more red than flesh. A path of dried blood falls from his nostril and onto a puffy upper lip, discoloring already spreading enough that you can see it from feet away. Then you’re in his arms, ignoring the patches of darkness on his tan tactical shirt.

He groans as you wrap your arms around him, causing you to relent the small amount of pressure you had given and settle for practically hovering your arms around his waist. Warmness surrounds you, curling with the scent of musk and dirt. Only one strap of his black backpack hangs off his broad shoulder, the attempt to remove it forgotten by your sudden advancement.

“Hey,” Six whispers into your hair, voice catching in the middle like he hasn’t spoken in a while. Arms wrap around your body, pulling you further into him even though he winces at the small movement.

A lump settles in your throat. You swallow it down and murmur, “I missed you.” Worries amiss now that he’s back. Present and in your arms. Wherever he had been and whatever happened didn’t matter now because Six was home. Covered in blood, surely, but alive, nonetheless.

A barely audible chuckle that you feel against your cheek. It hitches into cough momentarily, and you attempt to pull back. His grip tightens. “Sorry for being late.” Is all he offers for the blood and evident pain, not even letting you attempt to ask until he’s good and ready to part with you, face smushing against his chest to prevent any further movement of your mouth. You can smell the metallic tang of gore on him.

A minute passes, documented by the ticking sound emitting from the clock. His hold on you ceases. All there one moment and gone the next. Now he’s looking down at you with hooded blue eyes, lashes brushing atop his dirty cheeks. “Go ahead,” he says, giving permission for the questions he knows you have.

Okay, most urgent inquiry first. “What happened?”

The muscles of his jaw clicks, poking out as he grits his teeth, eyes going all dazed and far away for just a split second before he’s back. “Got complicated.” It’s not exactly spat out, but tense. Like those two words alone bring him back to whatever had gotten the blood on him. You’ll press for more later.

You eye the dark bags lingering just below his own. “When’s the last time you slept?”

That, for some reason, is more nerve inducing than the initial question. He takes a moment, fully taking off the backpack and plopping it by the door. The loud thud tells you that there’s something heavy in there. “What’s today?”

“Wednesday.”

“About two days? Give or take.”

Your teeth clench against each other, the only physical sign of your rising emotions. Anger, worry, all for him, directed at wherever the CSS had sent him, and whoever had the unlucky chance of meeting someone as dangerous as the man standing before you. “God, Court,” you start, using his real name. It feels worthy now, like that one word could encompass all that you feel for him. Not the one assigned to him by Fitz, but the one only a handful of people know. “Let’s get—Let me start a shower so that you can,” you look him up and down, taking in the tan tactical shirt and a shade darker tactical pants, “Get all that off of you.”

He hums a low sound, going to wrap his arms around you again, chin bumping against the top of your head. “Thanks.” The word is soft, tender. Tired, you’d say now that you’re aware of how little sleep he has gotten. You both stay like that until you let go first. He lets you, shoulders drooping now that he’s inside the apartment.

The water is warm under your fingers. A pine green towel hangs over the rod that holds up the cloudy yet almost transparent shower curtain. Six lingers behind you, watching.

“Okay, this should help,” you assure, for both of you. Once he’s all clean and calm you can relax. Smother him in the love that he’s been missing while he was away.

Dried blood is better than wet. It doesn’t make the fabric stick to his skin as he peels it off, discarding it in the hamper for a later washing or two. He’s slow taking them off, and you help with his shirt. It’s damp beneath your fingers from sweat.

Soon, his tan skin is exposed to the bright light of the bathroom. You try to suppress it, but a gasp escapes.

Red welts cover the left side of his ribs, similar to the one on his upper lip. They circle around like your stretching fingers. Your hand tentatively brushes against the bruises. “What happened?” You ask again. Can’t help it when this is so fresh, so used to the healed over scars that mar his skin and not this.

A sigh. He stops in his journey to pull down his boxers, letting them grip below his V-line. Warm fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your hand up to his mouth. Saliva wet lips meet your knuckles. “Told you. Got complicated,” greyish-blue eyes gaze into your own, taking in the worry before he continues, “I’m here now. We’re okay.”

Now that he’s here in front of you, you agree.

You know he won’t tell you anything more until he’s ready. No use in trying to ask again. Six will bring it up when he feels it’s time. So, you let him remove the rest of his clothing in silence.

Steam has begun to hover in the air. It slips out the open door, and you go to follow it. A gentle grip on your upper arm stops you completely. He turns you back around to face his now naked form, not embarrassed about it in the slightest. You have seen him in this exact state, minus the wounds, many times before. Still, a hot flush creeps up your neck and you blame it on the rising temperature due to the hot water pouring from the shower head.

“Stay with me?” He asks. You do, nodding and going to sit on the closed toilet lid before he shakes his head. “No,” an incline of his head in the direction of the running shower, “There.”

Oh. Okay, you can do that. Six steps into the tub as you strip off your pajamas, much quicker than he did his own clothing. He steps back from the water to allow you in front of him. You close the shower curtain behind you.

Warm air curls around your naked body, then so do his arms.

Two weeks seem to have taken their toll on Six, both physically and emotionally. He buries his head into your neck, breathing in deeply. You can feel the rise of his chest, then its downfall. Skin on skin with no barrier. Neither of you seem to care about the dirt or blood caked on his body. The contact feels too good to forgo so soon, and you relax into his hold. Let him breathe you in until his muscles loosen up.

His own bar of soap is generic. Picked up without too much attention to detail. It’s larger than yours, less used with how often he comes and goes. You pick it up and let the water run over it, suds forming, before twisting around.

Reluctant to move, he barely lifts his head out from your neck. It hovers just an inch above where it was previously, hanging down so that he’s close to your face, eyes closed yet a small smile gracing his lips. He doesn’t budge from his position as you begin to brush the bar across his skin. Doesn’t even open his eyes. If he wasn’t smiling, you might think he had fallen asleep.

Your chests press together as you go to swipe the soap over his back. Six makes it akin to a hug when he once again gathers you in his arms and tugs you into him. Calloused fingers brush over your spine, following the bones up and down. Another time you might’ve laughed at him practically petting you.

Goosebumps erupt all over your body, water spraying on your backside. Bubbles cover everywhere but his lower half. You’re reluctant to bend down, to move from how he’s got you. Eventually, he does it for you, kissing the top of your head before grabbing the soap and finishing the job.

Then he brings it to your own body, heavy scent clinging to your flesh with each swipe.

He moves slowly. Holding the bar in his big hand and rubbing it over your neck, shoulders, breasts. Pace lessening there, a quick kiss to the shell of your ear before he goes below them and to your stomach. Warm breath fans across your shoulder because he’s leaned down, peering over to see the front of your body. He doesn’t shy away from your hips or lower regions, movements almost measured. Only when it’s time for your legs do you take the soap and let him move in front of you to wash the foam from his own body.

As soon as only water lingers on his skin, he’s back on you, gently grabbing your hips to move you in front of the spray. Wide palms and long fingers splay over wherever he can touch, using his own hands in place of a washcloth. Helping the froth to disappear.

The faucet squeaks as you shut it off, bending over enough that your backside is momentarily shoved against his front. His fingers press into your hips, lips running over the fresh smelling skin of your shoulders. Teeth lightly graze against it, causing a shudder to wrack through your body. You attempt to stand up straight again, but Six just grips you harder, keeping you right there.

“Six?” You inquire, voice higher than normal, suppressing a whine at the feeling.

A breathless reply of, “Yeah?” Before he’s sliding his hands up and over your stomach, feeling the soft flesh there before rising higher. The way he palms at your left breast so suddenly has that same sound releasing from your throat. He hums in content, other hand smoothing down your side. Still so warm even without the steaming water.

Unable and not wanting to move, you remain there. Letting him grope at the tender parts of your body and growing hotter by the second. Something pokes at your ass cheek, and you whisper, “Court?”

That does it. He uses his hold on you to twist you around so that you’re facing him, lips findings yours.

The kiss is strong and desperate, pressing into you like he’s trying to get as close as he can. When he nips at your lower lip, you open up without hesitation. His tongue delves past your teeth to lick at the inside of your mouth, exploring everywhere as if it’s the first time. A deep moan falls into your open jaw, low and entirely desperate.

Once your lips are puffy and nearly numb, he pulls back to admire his handy work. Takes in your fucked out expression before going back in for another taste, hands grabbing at your backside. Palms full of your flesh, squeezing until you whimper into his mouth.

It’s only when you begin to squeeze your thighs together to relieve the pressure does he push you into the shower wall, back against the already cold tile. It pulls a gasp from you, and he swallows it down as it arises. Uses it to shove his tongue even deeper as he moves a leg between your thighs.

The muscles press against your folds suddenly. Six taking advantage of his hold on you to move you down onto the upper part of his limb before you even realize what’s happening. He takes in the moan that follows, sharp grip keeping you stationary as you wiggle at the sensation.

His mouth leaves yours, a string of saliva keeping you connected. The discoloration on his upper lip looks painful, and it’s now that you remember the forming bruise. You go to comment on it. To ask if he’s okay, but he cuts you off with a hand over your parted lips. It’s gentle, yet still gets his point across.

“Not right now,” he breathes, pupils blown. “Talk about it later.”

Got it. No complaints from you, especially when he moves you over his thigh, grinding that sensitive part of you against him.

Your knee touches his growing cock with each movement forward. Just a brush, but it has him jolting. Bending forwards just a fraction, he goes against your mouth again. A quick kiss there, then to your neck. Nipping until the skin goes red, just to soothe the sting away with his tongue. He repeats this until the beginning of bruises appear. Different from the ones that cover him. Born of love rather than hate.

It’s not long until the heat pooling in your stomach turns to tightness. Muscles growing taut in preparation for the rising orgasm that approaches rapidly. He moves in front of your face, noses nearly touching. You whine when he doesn’t move to kiss you, taking the initiative and going forward only for him to pull back. A short, breathless chuckle and eyes glued to yours before he goes next to your ear. “Go on, baby.”

You do as he says. Eyes screwing shut and hole fluttering. All the while he’s growling praises, letting you spasm and holding you upright. You’re glad he’s got you, otherwise you might’ve fallen from how intense the pleasure goes through you. Legs turn to jelly, and you’re barely coming down from it before he’s spinning you around and pressing your chest against the tiles.

He groans your name, word fanning across the damp skin of your back. Hard hips grind into your ass. “Fuck, tell me if you want me to stop. Please.”

When you remain silent, his head drops forwards where your shoulder meets your neck. His hair tickles against your skin. “Want to know why I’m covered in bruises?” Six suddenly asks, like he just lost an internal battle you hadn’t known he’d been having. Your mouth opens to ask him why. To ask why he’s bringing it up right now of all times. He guides his length until the hot head sits against your opening, and the words are lost. Can’t even remember what he said when he shoves up into you, using the wetness brought forth by your orgasm to enter faster than he would otherwise.

It's not until he bottoms out that he continues, mouth right next to your face. “Some idiot in Peru. Fleeing the CIA. Saw some—some bad shit, wanted me to take him out.” He pauses in his explanation to drag himself out of you, only to slam back in. You cry out, half muffled by how your face is pressed against the shower wall. “Easy and quick. Fitz got some mercenaries to fly me out when—original crew got more important plans.” Six scoffs at that, then bites your shoulder before grinding himself further into you.

You can feel yourself leaking down your thighs. Barely able to stay upright with the onslaught that he’s giving you. “Turns out they knew who I was. Fucking jumped on the chance to try and—and get me. Didn’t though,” the words turn into a growl at the end as he lowers until only his head is still inside of you. “One guy blabbered some shit before I,” hips meet your ass again, harder this time. He continues this as he speaks, words only audible over the sound of skin meeting skin because of how close he is to your ear. “Put a—a bullet in him.”

A high pitched, garbled moan that could barely pass for words comes from you. It sounds something along the lines of, “What did he say?”

His cock presses against that spongy part of your insides, reaping something akin to a sob. Adjusting his position, he begins to slowly hit into it again and again. “Said a lot of bullshit,” Six growls, pulling you away from the wall enough to slip a hand between your thighs. “Lot of nothing.” Three fingers find your clit with ease, rubbing leisurely yet constant circles around it. “Knew something, though. Knew enough to guarantee his death.”

Six lets out a groan, high enough in his throat that it’s animalistic and rough. Fingers move faster over your sensitive bud, mirroring the quickening pace of his hips. “Thought they had me,” he says, more to himself than you. “So they—they talked. Too much. Mentioned—Mentioned you.”

In your dazed state, the words take a moment to register. When they do, your eyes widen.

Being Sierra, all of his information has been wiped. Any mention of his past gone. No name to connect a past to. A clean slate that he always intended to keep that way, lest an enemy of Fitz or him find it. By knowing of your existence well enough to know your name—it meant leverage. But it also meant that you were in danger, which is why they were all dead and Six was here, taking you against the shower wall.

You go to say something, but he just rams himself into you. The fingers of his other hand go from gripping your waist to your face, slipping past your swollen lips and into your wet mouth. He effectively cuts off any further comment by laying them over your tongue. Instead of trying to speak, you close your lips over his fingers and lick the skin, the taste of soap filling your mouth.

He brings you to another orgasm, letting you grip his cock with how your muscles tighten and release with it. Doesn’t stop in his pace even when you tremble, moaning around his fingers. Just when you’re about to burst from the overstimulation, his hips stutter against your ass, going as deep as he possibly can before releasing thick ropes of cum inside of you.

The rest of the night you’re inseparable.

You turn the shower on again, washing away the sweat and bodily fluids. Six stays with you, helping you to stand when your muscles want to give out. Urging you to use his soap again to clean everything off of both you and him.

The clock by the door reads four as you pass, but its ticking simply falls into the background with how warm hands remain touching you over the towel. It’s only when you’re laying in bed, as naked as you were in the shower, tightly wrapped in his hold, that you really think about your earlier worries and how he had answered.

He was late not only because of the traitoring mercenaries but also because they had said one of the only things that would warrant complete and utter brutality: your name.

That fact could mean others know of his relationship with you. Could use it against him in the future. Maybe that should worry you more, but in his arms, you’re sure he’ll always be back to you. No matter what others do.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Carpe Noctem 22

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, age gap, gaslighting, manipulation, violence, blood, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (short!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

There’s a hiss of steam and a clank. Peter pulls away from the machine and stifles a yelp to a grunt. Instinctively, you go to him as he grips his hand and examines the patch reddening on his skin. Those type of burns are never nice.

“Run it under cold water,” you nudge his elbow softly and turn to crank on the tap, “ouch. You okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” he swallows tightly, “wasn’t paying attention.”

“Hold it under,” you guide his hand under the flow and he nods, glancing over his shoulder towards the seating area.

It’s not very busy, not for staying in. Most people take their coffee and go. There’s one woman who’s been there for at least an hour. She only ordered a tea before nestling into the corner and hunching over a book. At one point, you even thought she’d fallen asleep.

You tell Peter to wait and go to fetch the first aid kit mounted on the wall. You flip it open to find a disappointing array. Yellowed gauze and dried out alcohol swabs. This isn’t good and it can’t be up to code.

“Don’t move, okay?” You tell Peter and take the box with you down the hall.

Cole’s door is open as you find him furrowing his brow at the laptop screen. He looks up as you shake the tin chest as him. He sits back and greets you with his usual smile.

“What’s up?”

You cross the room and put the box down. You pop the lid again and show him the pathetic collection. His face pales and his expression draws tight. He slaps his forehead.

“Oh, shoot,” he turns his hand out helplessly, “I knew I missed some things–”

“It’s fine but we should consider bulking this up ASAP. It’s a code violation.”

“Wait, is someone hurt?” Cole frowns.

“Peter burned himself but I think he’s okay,” you explain, “he’ll just need to wrap it up.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he has you taking care of him. We’re all very lucky to have you,” Cole lets the tension drain from him, “what would we do without you?”

You chuckle. He asks that a lot. His gratitude can be a bit overwhelming. You don’t really know about running a business, least of all a cafe, but he puts a lot of faith in you. More than he should.

“You’d be okay,” you assure him. 

You still haven’t let on that you’re not exactly planning on staying forever. Once you submit an appeal to the daycare, everything will go back to normal. Most things.

“Thank you for taking care of Peter,” he says, “I’ll go right now and get some supplies,” he shuts the laptop and stands, “anything else we need?”

“No, I think we’re okay.”

“Oh, as well,” he snaps his fingers and points a fingergun to the ceiling, “earlier, you mentioned new recipes. Something seasonal. I think that’s a great idea but to be honest, I’m not much of a baker. More a taster, you know? We inherited the menu, we just go by the book.”

You nod as you close the kit up and leave it on the desk, backing away as Cole steps around the desk.

“Do you bake? Maybe you have some suggestions?”

“Me? Oh, I mean, yeah I’ve baked now and again but… I don’t know.”

“I can’t really afford a consultant right now so if you get any ideas,” he shrugs, “you seem like you're full of good ones.”

“Yeah, uh, we’ll see,” you say evasively.

“I’m sorry, not to put more stress on you. I know you have a life outside here. Not my fault I don’t,” he laughs at himself. You barely shift out of his way as he passes, brushing close as he grabs his fleece-lined flannel from the coat rack, “I assume you do, you don’t share much, do you?”

“Just life,” you sniff, “not much going on.”

He pulls his jacket on as he faces you again. He looks at you, almost as if he’s sizing you up, trying to see through you. It’s not lying if you just don’t tell him anything. No one needs to know about the mess that is your personal life.

“Well, I’ll ask ma. Maybe she has some ideas for new sweets,” he feels around in his pockets, his face twisting with confusion.

You peer around and see his wallet on his desk. You snatch it up and bring it to him. His eyes sparkle as he takes it from you.

“Ah, there you go again,” he grins, “thanks. Really, I’d be so lost without you.”

“You’re just fine,” you assure him, “I’ll go check on Peter.”

“Don’t forget to fill out a report. Technically, it’s a workplace injury.”

“Right,” you agree as you skirt out the door just ahead of him, “thanks, Cole.”

“No, thank you,” he claps your shoulder, a gesture that surprises you, as much for his strength as it’s suddenness. You flinch and shrug him off, “you’re holding this whole place together.”

You look back and give a tight-lipped smile. He beams at you and you don’t know what to do or say. You give a tiny wave back then turn down the hallway, rushing back towards the noise of running water. Peter grimaces as his hand trembles under the faucet.

“It’s my fault,” he shakes his head, “I got distracted.”

“It’ll be okay,” you assure him, “a lesson learned, right?”

“Excuse me,” the tiny voice startles you both.

You look over at the woman, the singular customer that afternoon. Her shoulders remain slouched as if to make up for her towering height, and her eyes are downcast even as she speaks to you. She puts her porcelain cup on the counter.

“This one’s chipped,” she slides it over and quickly retracts her hand.

“Oh, no,” Peter splashes you as he spins around, forgetting the pulsing burn in his hand, “did you cut yourself? Do you want a new one?”

She shakes her head vehemently, gripping the slender strap of her crocheted handbag. She stares at the floor. She can probably see the stains on the grout.

“It’s no problem, I’ll make sure you get a good cup–”

“I… gotta go,” she murmurs and briskly crosses to the door.

Peter sputters as disappointment paints his features. He pulls the cup close and runs his thumb over the chip in the brim. You near as you watch him. He likes her, you realise.

“Does she come in often?” You ask.

“What? I don’t know,” he shrugs and backs away from the counter. He takes the cup with him and drops it in the bin.

“Oh, you have no idea? You were just distracted by the wall, huh?”

“Please,” he hides his face from you. It’s too late, you saw the bloom of rosiness in his cheeks. “I don’t know her…”

“But you want to,” you tease.

He turns on you and hushes you, waving his hand wildly, “shhh, please, it’s stupid, okay… she’s… she’s pretty. That’s all.”

“Don’t worry, Pete, your secret’s safe with me.”

He chews his lip, “promise you won’t tell Ned.”

You pretend to turn a key in front of your lips and smile. It’s cute seeing him so bashful. It reminds you of when you were so in love. When you still believed that was a thing.

[christinebloodwrittings]

Something exactly like this.

Here we start a new series, at last I regained my love for writing n' reading 🥰

I have no idea how to write Hobie's accent, so apologies for that in advance. Any input and advise is well welcomed ☺️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mention of blood, injuries, fighting, cursing, anxiety.

Words: 2022

Chapter one: What else you got?

"When will you ever grow up?! Going against our path, is going against the family!" My father yelled, speaking about his religion and how I refused to believe in his insanity while punching the table to accentuate his anger.

"Then maybe I was never really a part of this shit family!" A smack on the face, it came from across my step mother that had entered the conversation, "Never come back, insufferable brat" she spit at me.

I had had it with them, so I flipped them off and left with a duffle bag on my shoulder.

As soon as I arrived to the train station and took seat inside the train, my heart broke, tears streamed down my face, like a wild river I tried to hold back when I looked the disappointment in my father's eyes.

Let's start from the beginning, my name is Y/n L/n, and it's been two weeks since I moved to the big city. A friend got me a job on a coffee shop and a small flat near it, without her I would've slept on the streets probably, so I owe her a lot.

Every day is the same! It's going to drive me crazy. I make the minimum for attending crazy fucked up people! Every day is the same compalints, some about the damm prices, the ice cream flavors, the fact that not always we have cash to break a 20, bitch come on, who buys a two dollar coffee with 20 or 100 bucks?? Seriously, people are crazy, and they take it on me just because I'm on the counter almost all the time.

I'm fucking tired.

Then one night, I was doing inventory when Jess, on the subject that I owe her a lot, she practically begged me to accompany her to a very illegal show downtown, on a sketchy bar no less. "I don't know Jess, those shows aren't really my thing, neither is a lot of people on a confined space" you shrugged, "Come on Y/n, my boyfriend is playing the bass, but I don't wanna go alone, maybe I could even present you to a few people, so you have friends, other than me" I looked at her with a stern look, that was the least of my concerns.

"It's just...you look so lonely and sad all the time, maybe you could have some fun, ya' know, to loosen up the stress from work" before she could keep blabbering reasons to go, I caved. "Fine" she yelled a high pitched "Yay" and hugged me.

It's amazing how easy is to get killed in the city nowadays, my first couple of days working I got shocked with how many corpses I encountered as soon as I opened my apartment door, but then I got used to it? I don't throw up as much as before, so that's a start.

But everything is so messy right now, with V.E.N.O.M tasks forces roaming the streets, people instead of being scared, they've become violent. I have no idea how Jess can be so hyped about a show when there's like an 80% chance we'll get killed in the process.

But hey, YOLO right?

Since it was a punk event, she wanted me to "blend in", as to not dress as a total nerd like I always do according to her. So we stopped at her apartment to get ready.

She lend me a plaid mini skirt, mid thigh stockings, a learher jacket that ended mid torso, a dark red shirt with a weird spider logo, a spiky choker and did a very goth or punk-like work on my face.

I didn't recognized myself, but I didn't quite hated it either.

Black boots with chains completed the look according to her, "Ya' look stunnin', honey" she squealed, coming out of the bathroom ready herself, wearing all things similar to mine, with the addition of a oversized denim jacket filled with band related pins and patches.

"Your boyfriend's, I suppose" she turned back to me, blushed slightly, "He gifted this to me, he's so cool and corny, I love him so much".

I am jealous of her. Her boyfriend has stopped by work a few times, he's tough but nice and very likeable. I could tell he would go to hell and back for her.

I was so fucking jealous of that.

The place wasn't really far from my apartment, which would allow me to slip away in case I needed it, oh boy, not even two seconds inside and I already wanted to run away.

It was a mess of all kinds of black dressed people, like the pride parade but goth, punk and violently weird. Jess seemed to be fine around the mess, she was a natural, totally in her element.

There was this feeling climbing up my spine, weakening my knees and my lungs, anxiety making her debut.

"C'mon let's get to the front before they start playin', otherwise we won't be able to see shit!" She pulled me across the sea of leather and spikes, I sensed a lot of stares and wolf whistles, probably not for me, but it felt so alien to me.

The group made its introduction, the crowd wildly started screaming and jumping, shoving us against the fence that kept us away from the stage. The amps to the limit, and the people jumping and shoving, everything begun to spin, in a haze I believed myself to be drunk but totally sober, "Jess! I wanna leave" I tried to scream but she couldn't hear me. Couldn't move either, trapped in between the fence I could only close my eyes in hopes the pain in my ears and my chest would end soon.

A hand took mine, out of a sudden I was on the other side of the fence. Due to the momentum I clashed against a bunch of pins and chains, "Follow me" He said, not ever letting my hand go, he lead me backstage, where the sound of the still going music and cheering was a bit muffled, barely bearable.

"Better?" I looked up to him, he had a wild black mane, piercings on his brows and his lower lip, stunning factions and he was built amazingly. "Yeah, sorry about the trouble" he chuckled at my embarrassment, "S' nothin', stay here all you need" he winked and rushed back to the stage, the screaming intensified as soon as he did.

A while later, Jess got to the backstage by the arm of her boyfriend, "Oh, honey I'm so sorry, are you feeling okay now?" I shook my head, hugging myself in absolute embarrassment. "'m gonna head back, sorry" she held me as soon as I was about to leave, "First, your knight in denim armor, Hobie I can't thank you enough" she thank him.

So that was his name, Hobie.

"No problem, that was a bad edge" his accent was so thick that's all I got to hear him say. "Hobie we need to scram, they are on their way, get the explosives" said none other than Jess's boyfriend, "Another raid? But babe" she whined, not caring about the sudden violence about to be unleashed apparently.

"Jess we need to leave, now!" I tried to take her away, but she resisted and shoved my hand away from hers, "I'm actually gonna stay for this one, Spider-Man might actually appear this time" She excitedly left with her boyfriend.

How could she just left when there was going to be another raid outside?! "Why today, I knew I shouldn't have come to this stupid thing!" Searching routes, but nothing came to mind, the sound of the tasks forces was loud, and the one from the rebellion was even more so.

Everything went down because of Oscorp taking over, then Spider-Man showed up to shake up the masses into a furious rebellion, it bothered me tat the rebels acted as if the destruction, the purchase of weapons from gangsters, and the eternal bustle, would change the fact that V.E.N.O.M had almost completely taken over the streets. The rebellion regained territory in the last assault, but in that hell several young people died, and not even Spider-Man could do anything about it.

Usually I don't get into that shit, because for fun I rather go dancing at the club, though I admit I threw a Molotov at a task forces's car, once the opportunity presented itself.

When I got out, everything was smoke, explosions, people running, crying and shouting with hate. The alley that led to the passage where I would hopefully make it to my apartment was across the fire. I plucked up my courage and ran, a little difficult because of the platforms on my shoes, the damn mini skirt, and because of the shooting that started when I managed to jump over the puddle of burning gasoline.

I fell and hit all the cement on my legs and arms, I got up quickly because the adrenaline was stronger than the bullet that grazed my knee, so I managed to take refuge in the back of the building.

"Where you think you goin' bitch" A cop grabbed my arm, seeing that I resisted him the baton on his other hand hit the back of my knees and then I had no other choice but to fall, the cut on my knee bleeding even more, but I couldn't feel it yet.

He rises the baton to hit me again, but it got swooped off his hand, in about a second that same cop was literally mummified to the wall, all covered in spider webs.

"You okay?" Red and blue suit, spikes on the head of the mask, denim jacket and boots, yeah a hero alright. "Peachy" He just saved me, but the bitterness from my friend bailing on me, the recent anxiety attack, the raid, the pulsing wound that I made the mistake of acknowledge, and the posible bruise from the baton, got to me pretty fast.

"Go save the others, I'm fine" he didn't moved, instead he stretched his hand towards me, "Let me take you some'ere safe first" normally I would've sent him to hell itself, but taking everything into consideration, I ended up agreeing.

As soon as I took his hand, he pulled me up and into his arms. He secured my waist with his arm, "By the green building is alright" he nodded then fired his web, without warning he took flight, taking an even firmer grasp on my waist.

Meanwhile I hid my face on his neck and yelled a bit.

As soon as we landed I shoved myself off of his grasp, clinging to the fire stairs railing for dear life, "Bit nauseous there love?" He joked, "A warning would've been appreciated" I swallowed the bit of puke that threatened the back of my throat, "But thanks, I'll take it form here".

My knees quivered when trying to make a decent step, the pulsing hurt behind my legs, "Ya' sure?" He asked, getting at a safe distance from my pathetic state, "Yeah, now aren't you needed elsewhere?" He slightly laughed at my embarrassment, "That can wait, they were holding it up, a'right" I could hear his smile under that mask.

"Need help there, love?" He offered, making it sound more like a tease, his hand reaching towards me once more, "I'll be careful" He promised. I caved again, after all, I lived in the eighth floor.

"Now we're good, night spiderman" I tried to close the door but he stopped it with his combat boots, "What" he stayed silent for a second, "Not even a kiss?" He joked? I couldn't tell because of the mask, then he just leaned on the doorframe. I genuinely laughed, like I haven't in a while, "Thanks for the laugh, maybe next time you save me, I'll give you that kiss, how's that?" He tilted his head a bit, like thinking, then just nodded.

I think he was about to say something, but an explosion on the raid site got to his attention, "I think you're needed" When I turned my head around he had already left.

[jreads]

A Total Coincidence (Part 01)

Rating: totally family friendly 👍🏼

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: Foul language, Mentions of blood, It's pretty angsty

A/N: OHHHHH we're so back. If you're new here, welcome. If not, welcome back! I am extremely excited for this. Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated. You can comment on this post or the masterlist to be added to the taglist!

You work a tiring and thankless corporate job. It pays well but it’s draining. You put a façade on in the office, one of polite, unruffled professionalism, but it slips quite quickly as soon as you push your way through the polished revolving glass doors of the modern high-rise.

He knows all of this because he watches you.

It’s not creepy, he attempts to convince himself, because he goes to that coffee shop too. The cozy, dim-lit one that overlooks your place of work. Granted, he used to only go once every blue moon. He’s there far more often now, in a darkened back booth, at the same time in the day. 

A total coincidence.

Simon Riley never used to spend a lot of time in London. He has a permanent address there, under a fake name, just to smooth over certain legalities. He never bothered too much with the details. In between assignments he comes back to ensure everything is as it should be, and to water the small cactus on the windowsill, a joking gift from MacTavish following their op in Las Almas. It’s one of those low-maintenance ones; you should soak the soil once every two months just to ensure it doesn’t turn a duller shade of green. Simon is half certain he could feed the thing gasoline and it would still flourish. But he liked his routine. It was touch and go, busy, never too much time in one place. The injury threw a damn wrench in it all.

The team had been deployed somewhere in the South American jungle, attempting to uncover part of an elusive arms trafficking operation. While the job had been successful, Ghost had been rewarded with one in the gut. Hemorrhage, internal bleeding, the works. They had patched him up real well, but the Captain had insisted he take some time, at least until after Christmas. He hadn’t wanted to. There’s nothing to do. It gets all too quiet when he is left to his own devices. He gets restless. But in this café, under warm string lights and surrounded by chatter, it isn’t as lonely. Especially for the ten minutes just after 17:00 hours when you come in to place your order.

He isn’t entirely sure what had drawn him to you in the first place. I could have been any number of things. The light gait of your walk, the way you struggle with the heavy door, your sweet voice, or the way you treat the serving staff. They all like you. Especially the ginger kid with the glasses… he likes you a bit too much. It could have been the way you shrug off your blazer in the late summer heat, folding it into the crook of your elbow and rolling your neck. It could have been the way you usually fumble to hold everything in one hand, always one cup, one paper bag, along with your purse, jacket, blue light glasses. Peppermint tea, he had found out when he had walked too closely past you one day. You were delicately trying to pry the lid from your cup to let the drink cool and—even through the mask—he had smelled the fresh aroma of it. He lists all the possible causes of his interest as if there is some hidden, puzzling meaning behind them. Realistically, it’s probably just because he finds you real fucking pretty.

Whatever the reason, he has formed some strange one-sided connection with you. You haven’t noticed him, maybe you never will, because he sits in the darkest corner of the shop, hood pulled over his head and medical mask in place whenever he isn’t eating or drinking. He’s been reading a lot recently, James Patterson, John le Carré, but George R. R. Martin is his current. It’s a welcome change of pace. And a good excuse to spend the bulk of the afternoon here, nursing a black coffee and croissant BLT. 

It's still summer and in central London, it’s sweltering. The café has their AC blasting, but as the sun dips low between the buildings it reflects off city glass and into the tiny shop, heating it like a microwave. The warmth feels oppressive today, even with his change to an iced coffee. The hoodie doesn’t help. That’s one of the only downsides of being here; he can’t shuck the damn hoodie. The tattoos would draw enough eyes, but the scars would make people stare. If there’s one thing he can’t stand, it’s people not minding their bloody business.

The ginger kid, Harvey, as his name tag says, sets an oscillating fan atop the espresso machine. Fat lot of good it’ll do on a day like this. As if in spite of his inner dialogue, its artificial breeze flutters Simon’s bookmark right off the table and to the wood-panelled floor. Reflexes faster than his memory, he bends down to grab it and bites his tongue to fight back what would have been a rather nasty string of curses. 

“You’ll have to watch it for a bit. No folding forward or back, or to the sides.”

“So I can’t even fucking move now, hey?”

“Just be careful. The stiches should hold, but I don’t want you testing it, alright?”

Well now he had just gone and bloody tested it. Fucking hell. He had copious bandages overtop, but he needed to make sure nothing had pulled. If it had, he’d be sitting in a pool of his own blood by dinnertime. Masking another grunt of pain and fighting off his dizziness, he heads for the bathroom. No one will bother the shit on his table, the employees are usually pretty good about that. 

The fluorescents flicker on automatically as the door shuts. He lifts his hoodie up and inspects the damage. Nothing is showing through, thank fuck. But he bets when he changes the wrappings later tonight, the gauze underneath will probably hold evidence of his stupid mistake. 

He hates it, the wound. And hates himself for it. It’s a reminder that he’s not invincible… that he’s anything but. That despite the skull mask and the layers of armour and the assault rifle slung over his shoulder, he’s only human. Weak. He’s had injuries before, stabs and slashes and broken bones. But none quite so severe as one well-placed gunshot wound. Usually he bounces back pretty fast, but this time…

Simon hates the paleness of the face in the mirror. He thinks, just for a moment, of throwing his fist into the glass, just to rid himself of the reflection. Opting instead for a frustrated sigh, he rearranges the sweatshirt once more before throwing the door open and rounding the corner, stopping just inches from where you lean against the wall, waiting on the barista.

Fuck, he hadn’t even noticed the time. Your back is to him and you’re on your phone, texting away. He snoops, just a little. He’ll reprimand himself for it later. It’s your mother. She’s asking if you’ve eaten and sending pictures of a mischievous looking grey cat. He watches your shoulders shake in a light laugh. There’s a lock of hair obscuring the pulse in your neck and he wants to brush it away.

Enough, you bloody creep.

“Pardon,” he mumbles, pushing past you.

“Sorry.” You press yourself close to the wall as he moves, barely looking up from the screen. He can smell your fragrance. You’re so small compared to him; he can’t stop himself from picturing what his hand would look like splayed possessively over the small of your back.

Fucking hell, he needs to stop.

You’re oblivious to his thought process, engrossed still in the conversation with your mum. Only when the employee says your name do you look up, smiling even wider and profusely thanking as you reach for your cup. He likes your name, he thinks. It suits you. What would it sound like on his tongue if he said it aloud?

He’s going bloody soft. Simon theorizes that Johnny is largely to blame. He had been introverted before that op, preferring to work alone, avoiding interaction with others unless completely necessary. Since then, he found himself missing the raucous laughter of the task force, the cracking of army humor jokes. He couldn’t find it in himself to care much, though. After all, it’s not like it was making him any worse at his job.

His reputation had preceded him in the jungle. Once the cartel had caught wind of 141 touching down, they were talking about him, fear lacing their voices. El Crânio, they called him. The Skull. The kill count had been fucking brutal.

It feels strange to be thinking about that in a place like this. It’s like two different lives that don’t ever intersect. Three even, if he counts his real identity. Ghost, Simon, and William. Will is the name he gives to the barista here, the one on the bills that come to the flat, the one attached to the SIM in his phone, the one on the fake driver’s licence and motorbike certificate in his wallet. He hates it, but he wasn’t the one who got to choose it.

He watches the way you play a coin from your change between your fingers, spinning it over the back of your thumb before catching it. You tend to fiddle with things while you wait: debit card, pens, hair pins, like your hands are aching for something to do. He can empathize. He’s started biting his nails again.

The employees have worked fast today, and you have your tea and biscuit in hand in record time. It almost seems unfair. Five minutes he gets with you, watching at a distance. At least he knows he’ll see you again tomorrow.

And he does. Again and again and again. Over a few weeks, the hole in his gut starts to heal, but it’s replaced with a new one. Something more insistent and far less easy to treat.

One day, you’re late. He starts to ruminate without meaning to but naturally, his mind goes down darker routes. He shakes the unwanted thoughts off, trying not to dwell on just how much they unnerve him. But you show up eventually, smile still plastered on. He wonders if it’s real. 

“They’re extending my day,” you’re telling the server. “Not by much, just one or two hours.” Something about an expedited move from digital to hardcopy files. “At least it’s overtime pay.” 

He doesn’t like it. The days are getting shorter; it’s getting darker earlier. He doesn’t like the idea of you walking home alone in the shadows of the London streets. Crime is on the rise; there’s all sorts lingering around the city at night. But then again, it shouldn’t bother him. It’s not his commute; you’re not his.

He sticks around most days though, just to make sure you get out alright. 

Today is different. It’s different because it’s 19:00 hours and you have dark circles under your eyes and you’re staring at nothing in particular and when the barista hands you your drink you say thank you, but you don’t smile. You always smile. And he’s trying to tell himself that it’s none of his business, that it’s not his problem but it is. Suddenly, it’s his biggest problem.

He holds the door open for you as you leave because it’s all he can do. You thank him, quietly, but don’t even look up from the floor. He won’t follow you; that’s crossing a line, a breach of privacy. So, he turns towards his own flat, looking back only once to see you disappear behind a street corner.

He sees your haggard face in his dream that night.

The next few days are more of the same. Even the coffee shop employees are starting to talk about it. How you look tired, shaky. Harvey talks about asking for your number as a way to cheer you up. The baristas all shut him down pretty quickly.

Weeks pass. He’s almost done the Game of Thrones series. But you’re only getting worse.

It’s October now, and the autumn chill is starting to set in. You wear a black trench over your office clothes, tugging it closed to fight the cold of the wind. Your eyes look bloodshot, hollow, like it’s been weeks since you’ve slept. He knows the look intimately; he sees it enough in the mirror. Ginge has asked for your number anyway, and you’ve politely declined. Ever the diplomat. He feels bad for smiling at the dismayed look on the boy’s face. Luckily, it hides behind his mask.

It rains the next day. Torrentially. It’s the kind that can dampen a thick cotton sweater within seconds, so he begrudgingly takes an umbrella with him. The shop is warm and ambient, a world within a world. The coffee tastes better on a day like today, warm, bitter, and reviving. He loses himself in his book, looking up only to realize that it’s passed your time. He thinks for a moment that he might have missed you, but that’s impossible. He could have blindfolds on and still feel your presence. 

You haven’t shown up. There’s a twist of something akin to anguish in his chest and he tells himself to calm down. Maybe they kept you late; you’ll show up eventually.

Except you don’t. 

Soon, the workers are wiping down tables and raising chairs. He has no choice but to abandon his station and venture back out into the cold. Something is off. It might seem silly, but he’s learned never to discount his hunches. So, he sets up camp in the courtyard, umbrella obscuring what little is visible of his face, and he waits. And waits. And waits. 

It’s nearing 22:00 hours when you finally exit the elevators and break for the revolving doors. He knows something is wrong immediately, your feet are moving too fast and you’re casting glances over your shoulder as if you’re being followed. As soon as you exit the building you’re running, as fast as your heeled pumps can allow.

“Fucking hell.” He’s up within seconds, umbrella closed and leaving him open to the onslaught of rain. He jogs to try and keep up, a safe distance behind but you’re too fast. By the time he rounds the corner, he’s lost you.

He’s checking each cross street, turning back on himself. The patter of raindrops is almost deafening, the cabs sending sprays of sludge up from the gutters as they race down the laneway. But through it all—as he’s been trained to—he hears sounds of a struggle. A scream, half muffled. It’s yours. He knows it immediately. Simon follows it as if he’s tracking you. One block north, one west. A half. Retracing his steps. There’s no sounds past the slick splash of car tires on wet asphalt. An alley lies to his left, no streetlights. He’s about to venture down it when you come hurtling around the corner, straight into his chest. Your coat is ripped, hair soaking, and he swears there’s blood on your clothes. Your tired eyes are panicked and laced with fear, looking at him with desperation. He doesn’t have time to be shocked. Because from behind you comes a hooded man, tall build, muscular, though not nearly as big as him. Taking hold of your forearm, he draws you behind him. The man pauses.

“Can I help you?” Simon asks. His voice is anything but friendly. The man seems to size him up and decide the fight is unwise, turning on his heel and walking briskly back the way he came. Good. He’d go after the guy, but he sure as shit isn’t leaving you alone in the middle of the street.

You ‘re clinging to the sleeve of his hoodie and shaking like a leaf. He has slid into that lethal calm familiar to field work, assessing the location, noting information, protecting. Once the man is out of sight, he’s got your face in his hands and your skin is so soft but so cold.

“You alright?” he asks, already fully aware of the answer. You can’t even speak, barely looking at him, just back down the alley as if your pursuer might remerge. Shock, he thinks. What was he supposed to do with a civvy in shock? Get them to a safe place, speak calmly and stably, check for injury. 

“Right, come on.” He pulls you lightly by the arm and you follow without much resistance, probably too weak to refuse. Like hell he’s letting you go anywhere by yourself right now. It’s almost unsettling how small your wrist feels in his hand, fragile, too easily breakable. 

His flat is warm, but you’re still shivering. Simon had deposited you on the couch after helping you shrug out of your destroyed jacket. A blanket sits around your shoulders now, and the kettle is boiling. He’s retrieved his somewhat depleted med kit from the bathroom, kneeling on the floor in front of you. Distantly, he curses himself for not replenishing bandages from the drugstore. There’s a nasty cut on your upper arm, open and bleeding, a knife slash. Anger isn’t something he can afford to feel right now.

“Let’s have a look,” he says, more to himself then anything. You haven’t said a word to him. But when he dabs at the wound with clean gauze, you grasp at his forearm, inhaling sharply. 

“I know. I gotta clean and stitch it though, alright?” He’s never been great at patch ups, but he has been trained. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but you can’t keep bleeding either. Fucking hell, he wishes he had gentler hands. Or something stronger than ibuprofen. 

“You drink?” he offers. You nod. Good enough. He brings you back a glass of whiskey. You down it, wincing at the strength, offering the empty glass back to him. He takes it, placing it on the low table before assessing you again. 

Clean. Disinfect. Needle, thread, vertical mattress stich. Under up, under down and tie off. This would be a breeze for the field medic. But his fingers are thick and much less nimble. You keep clutching at his arm through the sleeve, squeezing to stave off some of the pain. His eyes flicker up occasionally to check your face, but your own are tightly shut. He can tell you’re gritting your teeth, but you barely make a sound. Impressive, though it’s probably partially due to adrenaline. He ties off the final stitch. “Done.”

When you open your eyes there’s relief in them. And a loosening of tense muscles that is worrisome because it’s happening too fast. Your upper body is swaying, and your features are going unfocused, and he knows what happens next. 

He manages to cradle your head just before it hits the arm of the sofa.

Bloody fucking hell.

You wake up in a bed that isn’t yours. 

It’s plain. In fact, the whole room is. Grey-brown drywall and exposed brick. White sheets, white bedspread. The only real piece of décor is a bookshelf, spanning a considerable length of the wall, practically exploding with titles. What the hell? 

You rise onto your elbows only to gasp in pain. 

It’s a nasty looking cut, red and swollen around the edges but tied together with neat stitches. The sight of it opens a floodgate of memories, one after the other, ending with the man who saved you, shrouded in darkness.

Shit. This wasn’t good. None of this was good. You need your phone, but all of your belongings had been in your handbag, lost in that alley. You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, onto cool tile. Tiptoe out the doorway, taking in pieces of the quiet apartment as you go. Industrial design, morning light, a view of the city, a tiny cactus on the sill.

“You’re awake.” The Manchester accent is heavy and laced with concern. You spin on the source only to stop dead. 

His brown hair is so light it might as well be blonde, eyes dark with the shadow of lowered brows, skin peppered with pale pink scars. Prominent ones over his left eyebrow and bottom lip. The hint of a tattoo peeking out the collar of his t-shirt. Though eerily beautiful, his face is one that might send people running. But you find you aren’t afraid of him, not in the slightest.

“You wanna tell me what happened back there?”

If you liked it, please let me know! 🩶

[mychlapci]

Rodimus giving birth painfully at the worst time possible and with no help whatsoever.

Its in the middle of battle and he’s in too much pain to move, his tank is painfully stiff and swollen and he’s in so much pain but his fluids haven’t even broken yet and there is so much pressure all he can do is vent heavy and huddle under the shelter hoping the wrong bot doesn’t find him.

Best part about it?

He wasn’t even in this battle.

He was on a civi huddle trying to get to safety because he left after finding out he was sparked.

Sires?

Deadlock and Ratchet who don’t even know.

He’s literally got the worst luck because bombs are falling and soldiers are offlining and bullets are flying in the space he’s in and crawling only did so much his tanks are too heavy on his frame and half his spoilers been blown off while the other half is leaking energon hanging by a thread.

This mech is in serious trouble because he feels his sparklings moving and its making everything worse and the siren for clearing the battlefield sounds and he knows he’s really fragged because that means they send out a large bomb and what do they do?

Drop the largest bomb that caves in his shelter and guess who just so happened to fall in protecting each other?

Deadlock and Ratchet who have no idea he’s behind them as they check each other over and talk quietly so relieved they survived as they mention it’ll take at least two days to remove the rubble so they can escape.

And guess whose frame wracks with pain as their sparkling readjusts and kicks them too hard and makes him fail at stifling an agonized scream thats muffled from him biting into his arm?

Deadlock and Ratchet have the most distressed, out of frame mind zapping shock of their life cycles seeing Rodimus like that.

Your thoughts/the rest?

Ooh poor Rodimus (Hot Rod?)... but he was lucky that a bickering Deadlock and Ratchet ended up in the rubble with him. For a moment they’re too busy fighting and pointing out whose fault it was that they ended up here and how long it’s gonna take them to get out thar they don’t notice that there’s someone still alive in the mess. Hot Rod squealing out as his forge clenches alerts them to his presence very quickly…

When they realize it’s Hot Rod, their shared… friend, they rush to him and no matter how hard he tries to hide his pregnant belly from them, his water finally breaking tips them off. I don’t think they realize they’re the sires at first, but when Ratchet scolds him for not coming to him when he got sparked and Hot Rod tells him he didn’t want to hang a sparkling on his shoulders it clicks.

Deadlock is more stunted. Ratchet knows what to do, but Deadlock does not. I think he only jumps to action once Ratchet orders him to help him get Hot Rod out of the rubble and onto a more comfortable surface. Hot Rod was very lucky to have been found by them. Ratchet can patch him up and help coach him through the birth. He can already see that Roddy’s been straining himself, forcing himself to push when he does not need to. Thankfully his water finally broke and it’s gonna be significantly easier from now… Hot Rod clings to Deadlock as Ratchet helps him coax out the sparkling, scolding him for not telling them, for keeping this to himself, for trying to move through an active war-zone when he knew he’s that far along. Because of all the stress and the fighting still going on outside, Hot Rod has a very hard time giving birth, but at least he can scream into Deadlock’s chest this time around <3

if it’s going to take at least a couple days to clear out the rubble they know they’re in hot water. Hot Rod’s sparkling comes out alive but barely holding on and they don’t have enough fuel for the four of them… Everyone has to pitch in to keep the little one fed, which slows down the progress. Hot Rod’s injuries and the fact that he’s only recently birthed a sparkling mean they have to drag him out and help him walk across the empty battlefield… Hopefully, they can reconnect with an autobot squadron soon, and as for Deadlock… he’s going to stay with his sparkling for as long as he can, for now.

[icedragonlizard]

More information on the three new dream friends for the "Friendship Really Does Shine Like A Star"

If you've yet to read the AU, here's the link for it.

Anyways... this post will provide more info for Gryll, Drawcia and Prince Fluff in this AU! More specifically, how they interact with each other and how they interact with the rest of the dream friends.

You know how in my normal verse, all the dream friends in a wave are buddies? That the wave 1 dream friends are all pals with each other? Same for the wave 2 dream friends being pals with each other, as well as the wave 3 dream friends being pals with each other?

That stays true for this AU. Those friend groups still exist in this AU. And not just that, but these three are a friend group together as well!

Yes. Gryll, Drawcia and Prince Fluff are all buds with one another.

They met and grouped up before they joined Kirby and the rest of the dream friends. This group started by Gryll witnessing a portal open up that Drawcia came out of, and then they both saved Prince Fluff from being subdued by the cult shortly after he left Patch Land to start his quest in helping out. He was incredibly grateful to the both of them for saving him, and that's how these three became buddies.

The bond between these three grew stronger over time. They introduce each other's interests to each other. (Gryll is into board games, magic and trickery, Drawcia is into art of course, while Prince Fluff is of course into yarn and everything else going on in Patch Land)

Gryll and Drawcia are a duo of lunatic women that love causing tomfoolery together. Or at least, to an extent. Sometimes, Drawcia can get ahead of herself, and Gryll has standards and will try to get Drawcia to stop if she goes too far. But otherwise, they love having fun together. Drawcia helps Gryll become a more artistic person.

Gryll is basically a 'big sister' figure to Prince Fluff. She teases him a lot, although she also drags him out of his comfort zone to have some fun. She also respects him a lot for being capable of governing the land he hails from. They like each other's level of spunk, and Gryll lets Fluff playfully mess with her little onion minions sometimes.

Drawcia can either be considered another 'big sister' figure to Fluff, or she can be considered an 'aunt' figure instead. Either way, lol. A lot of collaboration of art and yarn stuff going on between these two. Drawcia was eager to help innovate Patch Land with more paint, and while Fluff was hesitant at first, he relented and gladly allowed it.

Drawcia has grown a soft spot for both Gryll and Fluff to the point she's protective of them. If you hurt either of them, she'll destroy you. Both Gryll and Fluff definitely appreciate her very much for that.

Kirby loves all three of them as he's super glad and thankful that they joined him on that big adventure. Fluff has always been buds with Kirby, and that's still going on strong! Gryll nowadays loves doting on Kirby and gives him noogies. Drawcia became friends with Kirby during that adventure, and they've been on great terms ever since.

Now, how do these three interact with the rest of the dream friends? I'm to begin going over that! Although I'm not going to write dynamics for how they interact with all of them on an individual basis... that'd make this post insufferably long, so I'll do lots of summarizations and mention highlights that are worth mentioning.

Gryll gets along very well with some of the other ex-villain dream friends. She's especially close buddies with Marx and Magolor, as she's their favorite candidate of a third person to form a mischief trio with. She's friends with Taranza, too, as they got together for their overlapping nature interests. Susie is a little bit more distant by comparison, but she and Gryll also get along pretty well by virtue of the mutual friends they share. Gryll likes Daroach as well, as the two of them have a knack for deliberately pulling fast ones on each other.

Most of the team doesn't have any real issues with Gryll. Dedede, Bandee and Meta Knight are fine with her. As are Adeleine, Ribbon, Gooey and the animal friends. The dream friend that Gryll gets along with the most poorly is Dark Meta Knight, as she sometimes pranks him and he hates it. He hates Marx and Magolor for annoying the heck out of him with emo jokes, and Gryll's joined them in doing that.

When the Mage Sisters joined the team, they came to like Gryll! The one that Gryll gets along with the best is Flamberge due to sharing similarly high energy. They all enjoy Gryll's cackle, as it's alike theirs.

Drawcia is by far the most contentious one out of this trio when it comes to interacting with the other dream friends. While she's "redeemed" in at least being friends with Kirby, she's still an incredibly morally grey and unhinged person to the point it puts some of the team on edge about her. Combine that with the fact she has by far the most unhinged laughter out of anyone in the team and that she's huge in size (she's literally just as big as wasp Sectonia), a lot of the other dream friends are honestly pretty afraid of her.

That even includes Adeleine. Despite the fact that she and Drawcia have the thing in common where they're both really into art, she's honestly still a bit uncomfortable of the gigantic paint sorceress. The banshee laughter and chaotic tendencies of Drawcia is more than enough to put even the fellow younger human artist quite on edge.

Prince Fluff is unafraid of her because she saved him when he was under attack.

The only ones in the team that aren't afraid of Drawcia at all are Marx, Susie, Taranza, Daroach and DMK. Among them, Drawcia has been able to form friendships with Marx, Taranza, Daroach, and a decent acquaintanceship with Susie. Marx enjoys Drawcia's levels of unhinged-ness, Daroach thinks she's quite cool, and Taranza likes her because he likes big scary women ahahahahahahaha. Susie being best friends with Taranza allows her to get along okay with Drawcia.

Imagine Magolor hiding behind either Taranza or Susie at the sight of Drawcia.

When the Mage Sisters switch sides, they aren't really afraid of Drawcia. Or... mostly. Flamberge and Francisca are fine with her. Zan Partizanne on the other hand is cagey around Drawcia, because she's weak to paint. And she remembers when Drawcia kicked her butt HARDCORE when she was still the enemy. So uh.... lololol yeah!

Prince Fluff was very curious to know all of the various dream friends. He grew to like many of them! He of course remembers Dedede and Meta Knight back in the day, and he's come to quite like Adeleine, Ribbon, the animal friends and Taranza. He ESPECIALLY loves Bandee and Gooey. Fluff considers both of them to be his homies.

That being said, Fluff is a little bit conflicted when it comes to the ex-villain dream friends excluding Taranza. He likes Taranza for having similar royalty vibes like him, but the others put him on edge a little bit. He's weirded out by the behaviors of Magolor and Susie. He's a bit uncomfortable of Daroach and DMK due to their shady aura, and he especially thinks Marx is too much with his wildly chaotic nature.

Which makes it ironic that he's buddies with Drawcia, but again the reason why they became close is because she saved him from getting rekt by the cult one time.

Fluff got pissed off at a few of the pranks that Marx pulled on him.

But Fluff knows that Gryll is friends with some of these other ex-villains, and so he tries his best to not be rude around them. Thankfully, Gryll became courteous enough to help Fluff keep his distance around some of them, especially Marx. In fact... Fluff even came to the decision that he doesn't really want Marx, DMK and Daroach to visit Patch Land. Marx and DMK for self-explanatory reasons, and Daroach out of fear that he might rob from Patch Land.

Honestly, even after the Mage Sisters joined the team, Fluff is still not a fan of them. He was EXTREMELY angry when they kidnapped Kirby while they were still the enemy, to the point he's had a hard time forgiving them for it. He's accepted them for at least wanting to do better now, but he still doesn't really want to be near them, and he wouldn't really want for them to visit Patch Land either. That he's still cagey around them because they kidnapped Kirby shows how much he stans Kirby!

After Forgotten Land, Elfilin came to like Fluff and Gryll. He thinks Drawcia is terrifying, however. Whoop. Sorry to Drawcia that she failed to make a friendship with Elfilin. She's kinda scary and mean.

I think that's basically it for this post.

Out of my AUs, I think "Friendship Really Does Shine Like A Star!" can be considered one of my more ambitious ones since it's massively rewriting Star Allies' events, slightly rewriting Forgotten Land, and introducing a whole new dream friend wave during Star Allies' events.

Thanks for reading if you did!

[stuckybarton]

Heads Under Water XII

Summary: When he doesn't even know who he could trust anymore. Character: K'uk'ulkan/Namor x Atlantean Descendant! Filipino! Female Reader. Word Count: 1,915 Chapter Warnings: Drowning. Mention of Vomiting. Namor is an asshole here.

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Join the Library (no longer do taglist you can just turn on notif here)

Part XII

“At least the bandage are coming off.” You couldn’t help but smile as Namora was kind enough to help you out with removing said bandages. “But that means I have to show more skin now.” You joked earning a chuckle from the warrior at your expense.

“Your clothes—or what is left of it is ready for you to use should you decide to use it.” She points out, gently cutting through the bandages on your side. “But I think it is best for you to remain in this attire for the time being.”

In the silence, the sound of the blade tearing through the bandage was the only thing you could hear through the sound of splashing waters, your eyes looking anywhere else but Namora’s handy work. Instead your eyes fell back towards the murals on the wall. Memories of the instances where you would watch K'uk'ulkan paint and how you would playful ask if he would want to be a painter in his next life to which he would simply shrug and present a coy smile without confirming.

“I have heard from K'uk'ulkan that you plan to stay?” She inquired breaking you from your thoughts.

“Not on a permanent basis.” You confirmed. “I still have my obligations with Princess Shuri, but if he would need me here in Talokan for anything your people would need my expertise with.”

“Have you faced your fears of the water then?” She inquired.

“I can manage now.” You admit almost too proudly by something so simple.

But it had meant so much to you in the moment. How K'uk'ulkan had helped you in facing the fear you had dealt with for your entire life at this point. If any other circumstance you would have refused his offer of help, of even staying here in Talokan, but he helped you more than you could ever thank him for.

“You are special to him…” Namora pointed out and the proverbial blush was immediately painting your cheeks at such insight from the woman. “Broke his own rules for you.”

“I’m no one special.” You brushed off turning upon realizing the last of the bandage was removed and the biggest smile was on your face seeing now visible scarring from your wounds. “Thank you for patching me up so well, Namora.”

“It is nothing.” She brushed off standing up from the bed. “Now, the suit you have requested will be brought in the morning, before you return back to Wakanda, it would make me happy if you would visit Talokan and see everything that I pride my land has to offer.”

You smiled nodding almost ecstatic of the possibility. Initially, you had been hesitant about seeing their kingdom out of your own fear of the water, but now that it was no longer a hindrance, the curiosity now settled through you and you would want nothing more than to go and see Talokan for all of its beauty as Namora and K'uk'ulkan would constantly tell you.

Before long, the familiar sound of the disturbed waters had sounded and you turned to see the man himself in his full glory. K'uk'ulkan. But in this very moment, you were not welcomed with the familiar smile nor the familiar warmth as he held you by the arm—more painful than you would believe he would hold you so.

“What are you doing?” You questioned pulling away from his hold but he was too strong for you.

“Do. Not. Lie. To. Me!” He spat pulling you towards the water and the panic set before you could understand what was going on.

The question that escaped Namora’s lips were left in deaf ears as you were dragged to the waters—the deeper parts of it. All the panic was now settling in your system at what the man was about to do.

“K'uk'ulkan what are you doing?” You questioned trying your best to get away from his hold.

“You will answer my question and if you lie, I will be the one to drown you myself.” He threatened, ice cold was his gaze at you.

“I will, just please let go. You’re hurting me.” You attempted to escape his hold but it was inevitable. “Please, stop.” You continue to plead as he now stood you by the edge of the water.

“Who are you?” He questioned.

“What are you talking about?” You screamed at him, fear no longer giving you any rational thought but to escape from his hold.

“Are you one of them? Are you the one who attacked my people?” He screamed into your face.

“No! Why would I even do that?” You spat at him.

Before you could hear a proper answer from the man, in the blink of an eye you were thrown into the water and everything you have learned from the man had faded away as the panic and fear had consumed your entire being. You struggled to swim up, to find the control to swim, to even float. The air was replaced with water and you felt the all too familiar sting in your lungs.

The scream escaped and you struggled for your life and the man you had trusted to help you in facing your fears stood by the edge, watching you unmoved and unfazed by the sight of you drowning all over again.

This was it, this was how you would die. At the hands of the man you were not supposed to trust. By all the warnings Shuri had once given you of the man, of all the cruel things he had done for the sake of his goal. You will die at the hands of a man you had slowly but pathetically fallen in love with.

“Mama, I don’t want to die.” You found yourself sobbing. “Please Mama, I don’t want to die like this.”

At the change of his expression, it was Namora that quickly dived into the water to save you. Holding you up and back up onto the dry floor. You shivered, taking as much air as your lungs could consume before the vomit began. Everything you have eaten and of the water you had breathed and consumed was expelled for both of them to see.

A pathetic sight to see.

You struggled to stand, to get as far away from the man as possible, but your legs were giving out and it was your arms holding you up from face planting the floor as you continued to puke out the water. The cough began burning your chest so painfully you felt you were truly dying in this moment.

You heard the screams between Namora and the man, but you ignored them, trying your best to regain your breathing and your own sanity at this point. When you felt everything clear up, the sobs continue and the shivering was what came after, the betrayal and the realization that you needed to leave this place once and for all. To get away from the man for what he has put you through.

Blurry eyes finally rose to see Namora shoving K'uk'ulkan away, her spear was now pointed at the man. You know the punishment that would come for Namora for her actions but you could do nothing at this point, out of fear of being placed upon the same predicament all over again.

K'uk'ulkan simply stared at you at this point and the single tear had fallen from his eyes before he had retreated back to the waters.

“I’m sorry.” Namora had slowly approached you, you accepted her hug as it was something you needed right now. “I don’t know what had gotten into him.”

“Please…” You whispered. “Please bring the suit as soon as possible and help me go back to Wakanda before he comes back.” You pleaded.

You no longer felt safe within his chambers. What would stop him from doing the same thing when you were all on your own? The thought only brought the fear to consume you even further at such a possibility.

~

He should have felt nothing. He was simply doing what was best for his people. If it meant killing anyone along the way he should never hesitate. But he did, as he sat on his throne after his own blood had pointed her weapon at him, the doubt slowly washed over him. The guilt come following after like a hit to the stomach.

He would never be able to sleep at night seeing the heartbreak so evident in your features for what he has done. It had been hours now since he had thrown you onto the very same water he had once warned you not to go with how deep the waters were at that area. But still it felt like he was still in the moment, of his body and his heart fighting to come for you and to save you from the predicament he had placed upon you.

‘Mama, I don’t want to die.’

Those words would haunt him forever. Like a dagger repeatedly stabbing against his heart. It was the same, to place someone he was slowly but surely placing up on a pedestal for.

“In ajawo',”

He broke from his despair at the sight of Namora. He was prepared for what she was about to say. Prepared to forgive her for her actions against him as they were without malice on her part.

"Bix u beel leti'? (How is she?)" He could not help but ask. His heart winning over anything else at this point.

"Leti' ts'o'ok partido suut le superficie (She has departed back to the surface world)." She announced.

His heart dropped.

"Ma' a ordené ti' le dejaras bin (I did not order you to let her leave)." He growled.

“Ka ma' in ordenaste le xu'ulbes je'elel (And you did not order for me to let her stay)." She quipped unfazed by the anger slowly coming.

He was left silent. His people, they were not ordered to do anything rash as he had done and you were free to leave if you so choose to, if you were to be ready to leave. So you did, but at the cause of his actions against you. He was too late, too late to even try to fix things.

"Leti' ts'o'ok confiado ti' teech, ba'ale' elegiste jaatik le ka' tuláakal le progreso u ts'o'ok u meentik tak u llegada. (She has trusted you, but you chose to break her after all the progress she has made since her arrival)."

She was right. No one else was to blame but him.

"Yéetel máax yaan leti'? (Who is she with?)" He slowly resigned to the choices he has made.

"Ma' u confiar ti' mixmáak asab u tu Attuma utia'al u taasik le u paache' ti' le yóok'ol kaaba' le superficie u kin tuukul segura. (I could trust no one else but Attuma to bring her back to the surface world safetly)."

All he could do was nod. Accepting that this would be the last time that he would ever see you again. He no longer had the galls to face you for what he had done. But it was the guilt that now rests upon his shoulders for as long as he was alive.

"Bejla'e', wáaj in dirás Ba'axten ta meentaj ti' le ba'ala'? (Now, will you tell me why you had done this to her?)" She had demanded and he knew he had no other choice but to do so.

[tripleglitchwriting]

You mentioned Ultra Magnus trying to cope with the world of One Piece and the Strawhat Pirates and I. Am. Here. For. It.

UM is a very ernest stressed out lawful good character. and the Strawhats are a chaotic good force. More Chaos than all the Wreckers and the Lost Light put together.

So in honor of that post If you don't mind me asking for two requests in one request box open run I'd like to request a One Piece/Lost Lighters crossover.

The Strawhats are helping The Lost Light crew because Luffy and Rodimus vibe. Roddy has a grand fleet flag and Luffy has a Rodimus star.

Either, Ultra Magnus/Minimus Ambus in a lull in the action asks Robin why she's a Strawhat Pirate. She's the only sane one here.

Or, if your in the mood for something lighter, Franky and Brainstorm Share The Brain-cell^TM while Usop and Perceptor attempt damage control.

YOU UNDERSTAND. YOU GET IT. I will be happy to write this!! I’m sorry it took me so long, I’ve been going through a rough patch when it comes to motivation.

The lost light characters may be a bit ooc because I’ve been having a hard time gauging their personalities. A lot of what I have for them in my head is from other fanfictions.

Also, this is just the start of the story, it’s just how they meet. I’ve yet to write specific interactions between characters, but I wholeheartedly plan to write more!

A little side note for clarification on One Piece in case anyone needs it:

- This takes place sometime after Jinbei gets on the ship

- I watch the dub so I’m going to use all of the names and such they use there (ex. Black foot Sanji -> Black leg Sanji)

- Sanji and Brook will be normal to women. I just don’t want to write them being weird.

Without further ado, I present…

Ten Idiots Meet A Ship Full Of Other Significantly Bigger Idiots

Synopsis:

After an experiment gone bad on the Lost Light (again), a portal is temporarily opened up to another dimension. Before it could be closed, however, a group of strange individuals manage to slip through.

After a long day at sea, The Strawhats always look forward to a first-class home cooked meal by Sanji himself. It was a beautiful evening- the crew opted to stay out on the deck of the Sunny to watch the sunset.

“SANJI! I’M HUNGRY! FOOD! NOW!” Not that much peace could be had with a captain like Luffy.

“I’m coming! Not every cook can whip up something like this every night you know. I swear, you guys eat more than a whole island every day.”

“Hey, that’s just Luffy. Don’t include the rest of us in this!” Nami shouted from the stairs leading to where the rest of the crew sat.

“I’M YOUR CAPTAIN AND I SAY FEED ME! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT!” Luffy pumped his arms as he chanted, sticking his tongue out as he watched Sanji cart out a giant platter of cartoonishly large meat.

“Smells as delicious as ever, Sanji.” Brook commented.

“Thank you, Brook. At least someone appreciates my food around here.” He glared at his captain, who was completely oblivious to everything else around him and solely focused on his food. Everyone else chatted away. Laughing, eating, looking up at the beautiful swirling vortex that had just appeared in the sky.

Wait.

Luffy had to stretch his arms up as his food began to be sucked into the portal above them, but it was in vain as he began to float too. The Sunny creaked as gravity shifted around them, everything but the ship itself beginning a startling ascent upwards.

“MY MEAT! NAMI, WHAT IS HAPPENING?”

“How should I know?!” She clung to an uprooting tangerine tree, “This is NOT normal! I haven’t read anything about whatever this is!”

“Everybody hang on to something!” Jinbei ordered, staring to float himself. Brook didn’t seem to get the message, as he was the first to loose his grip.

“SOMEBODYHELPMEIMBEINGPULLEDIN—”vwoop! And then he was gone.

“BROOK!” Luffy, having already eaten everything on his plate, launched himself into the portal.

“Damnit Luffy!” Zoro did the same soon after.

“What? Are we seriously going in that thing?” Chopper squealed, Usopp and Nami seemed to agree.

“Maybe we’ll all be immediately killed once we enter. It would be a painless death at least.” Robin said calmly, affixing herself to the ground with her devil fruit powers.

“YOU ARE NOT HELPING!” Usopp, Nami, and Chopper all screamed in unison.

“I suppose this is our next adventure!” Jinbei leapt through the portal. Sanji sighed and followed after him.

“Well, Sunny’s too big to go through that thing, so I guess we’re goin’ in without her.” Franky detached himself from the mast.

“Okay everyone, come on.” Robin peeled Usopp, Nami, and Chopper from their death grips on the ship and took all of them with her as she joined the rest of the crew.

“ROBIN WHY-“ Vwoop! And just like that, the Thousand Sunny was left empty.

————————————

Brainstorm was in big trouble. And possibly the entire Lost Light. And maybe the universe. The good news is his portal machine worked! The bad news is it was now pulling in random things from a random space in the multiverse. This would be a great opportunity to study it, unfortunately the stability of the thing was questionable. That is to say the portal was currently beginning to implode.

“Brainstorm, what are you doing!?” Preceptor skidded into the room right as he heard the snapping and crackling of something that probably shouldn’t be making that sound.

“Oh, nothing. It’s fine! It’s fine. I just need to- oh that’s not good. Actually do you mind helping me shut this down before it destroys the entire ship?”

“You’re going to be the death of all of us-” right as he began to walk toward the vortex, a screaming clatter of something came speeding out of it. On closer inspection, it seemed to be the corpse of a human.

“Oh, well, that’s new.” Brainstorm oh so helpfully commented. Just after another being came from the portal, also screaming but not quite as dead. Another followed, this one with a complete and utter look of annoyance on his face.

“What in the- Brainstorm, what did you do?” Ratchet entered, as did Ultra Magnus.

Soon there was an array of things entering the room. Aside from the array of random objects, there was a large blue organic followed by an another human wearing a black suit, then large possibly techno organic. Four other small people shot out shortly after.

“CLOSE IT! CLOSE IT NOW!” Ratchet ordered.

“Oh why didn’t I think of that- oh wait, I did, and I COULD USE SOME HELP!” Together they pulled on a comically large mad scientist like lever affixed to the portals control panel. As quick as it had arrived the portal was gone, though what- or who- it had just pulled in were gaining their bearings.

“Hahahaha! That was fun!” One of the humans, one wearing a yellow hat with a red line across it, put his hand on his head and looked around. It took him a second to notice, but when he finally realized where he was the man yelled, “WOAH! Cool! This place is huge!”

“It seems to be some sort of… metal building. A giant workstation perhaps.” The blue man said thoughtfully.

“Well I say we get out of here! I don’t want to be around when we find out why this place needs to be so big!” A long-nosed human whisper shouted.

“What, like those freaky statues?” The very annoyed man gestured at Brainstorm, Ultra Magnus, Ratchet, and Preceptor, who were all standing completely still. That is, until Rodimus showed up.

“Brainstorm, I heard yelling, is there a fight? Without me?” He strolled in casually, not looking at the floor, and instead focusing on his crew who were all staring at him. “What? What did I do?”

“That. Is. AWESOME!” Something from the floor shot up at Rodimus’s face. “Are you a robot? Can you shoot lasers? Do you eat metal?!” Somehow, someway, there was an ecstatic human right in front of his optics.

“Luffy! Get down from there!”

“Woah. So, care to explain? Anyone?”

“We are not robots, we are Cybertronian.” Ultra Magnus automatically stated.

“Cool!” ‘Luffy’, as his friend called him, somehow managed to launch himself on top of Rodimus’s helm. “Is there any food here?”

“Luffy! Damnit-” Another of the humans, the one in the suit, jumped. Accept when one would normally begin to succumb to gravity and fall back down, he took another step in the air and kept going. “You are so reckless!” The man tackled Luffy off Rodimus and they both began to plummet down to the ground- a height deadly to something so small.

“Sanji, let me down! I want to talk to the robot!”

“How about you shut up and come up with a plan before you get us all killed!” The moment they jumped off, Ratchet was already in motion. He was able to dive behind Rodimus to catch the two, but as he slid on the ground to save them ‘Sanji’ jumped off the air again and landed perfectly safe.

“I… I can’t even begin to explain this.” He admitted in a completely defeated tone, now chassis down on the floor.

“Do they all move?” A small voice whispered from the group still standing where the portal once was.

“I hope not.” Another replied.

“Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.” Brainstorm said calmly.

“I don’t think anyone could have predicted this.” Ultra Magnus put his servo on his helm. The two that had just survived a deadly landing like it was nothing walked back to their group- one much more unhappy than the other.

“Sorry about him. He does this a lot.” The annoyed green haired man glared at both of them.

“Oh, like you’re any better moss head.”

“Oh yeah? At least I didn’t jump in the face of a giant robot!”

“Yeah, cause you’d get lost on the way there!”

“You take that back-“

“STOP IT!” Half of the new arrivals shouted at the same time. One orange haired girl stepped up to comfort the bickering duo.

“This is not the time to argue! We’re kind of… we- look!” She gestured at, well, everything. Everyone else seemed to silently agree.

“Greetings visitors from another world! Welcome aboard the Lost Light!” Brainstorm announced with a flashy arm movement.

“Hey, I’m the captain, I get to welcome people into the ship!”

“You’re a captain?! Is this a pirate ship? Are you giant robot pirates?!” Luffy shouted in awe, though still in the arms of Sanji, who promptly dropped him.

“He said he was ‘Cybertronian’ bro. Not a robot.” The probably techno organic chastised.

“Psh, whatever.” Luffy got himself to his feet.

“We are not pirates.” Ultra Magnus said very sternly. “We are on a perfectly legal exploratory expedition.”

“Oh, bummer.” He glanced around once again. Apparently deciding now was a good time, he introduced himself. “My name is Monkey D. Luffy and I’m gonna be King of the Pirates!” Luffy smiled brightly and giggled, either ignoring or disregarding his friends facepalms.

“Well, I’d say this was a great success!” Brainstorm cheered to himself. “Who knew that was possible! I really am a genius.”

“And who are you?” ‘Moss head’ sneered at him. “Who are any of you? This is weird.”

“Well, if I’m allowed to introduce my own ship this time, my name is Rodimus Prime, captain of the Lost Light!”

“Hang on, this is your ship? How did you build something like this, it looks like it’s straight outta Vegapunk’s lab! What part of the world are we in anyway?” The blue hair techno organic asked, putting his oversized hand on his strangely shaped chin.

“Space, my friend. We’re in space. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if anything living would make it through that portal. Looks like it’s got about a 9 out of 10 survival rate which is better than most multidimensional portals I’ve seen. That is to say I’ve never seen one before, because I built the first one. Just now. No need to congratulate me.” Ignoring Brainstorm’s blatant narcissism, the of new arrivals looked absolutely flabbergasted by this information.

“We’re in space? Like, space space? Outer space?” Luffy asked with eyes wider than any moon, a big bright burning ball of excitement building in his chest.

“I assume you’ve never been off your planet before?” Perceptor asked. Luffy didn’t respond this time. He looked like he was about to burst with excitement, though his crew mates didn’t seem to pay much mind. One or two of them shook their heads in response to the question. “Well, Brainstorm, care to explain what you’ve done here?”

“What I’ve done- well, if you have the mental capacity to understand- I can give you a basic rundown. I’ve designed this portal to reach into alternate dimensions, which have hardly been confirmed to exist other than the dead universe. I’ve been worked steadily on it for a while now, and today I tested it out. It brought these ten organics here as well as some other junk.”

“Brainstorm.”

“Yes?”

“You mean to tell me, you turned on an untested and extremely dangerous machine that could obliterate our entire existence within nanokliks for no reason other than bragging rights? And when it miraculously did work, you pulled in ten random people from an unknown possibly incredibly dangerous world that could have also imploded our entire existence?”

“Yes that about sums it up.” Perceptor’s optic twitched, but as it seemed time was moving a bit too fast for him to start lecturing. The corpse on the floor began to move, slowly at first, and then in a sharp practiced motion it popped up on its feet.

“Yohohoho! I think I passed out for a second there!” The skeleton looked around. “Oh. I definitely passed out. No bones about it!” The apparently not corse laughed to himself.

“Cool! I didn’t think those human stories about corpses coming back to life were real!” Rodimus said with a childlike playfulness.

“They’re not.” Ultra Magnus argued bluntly.

“Oh, I am a skeleton. It’s a long story. Say, Luffy, what is going on?”

“We got sucked through a portal and now we’re talking to giant robot guys.”

“Oh okay.” The skeleton nodded, and then quickly scurried to where three of the other humans (and animal thing?) were huddled.

“Well, remind me to change that to a 10 out of 10 survival rate!”

“I feel like introductions are in order here…” Perceptor stated, “I’ll go first. My name is Perceptor. I’m a scientist. Now, you.” He gestured at Brainstorm.

“Well, if you insist. I am Brainstrom. Genius inventor of the machine that brought you all here.”

“I am the duly enfor- ah, I mean Ultra Magnus. I try to keep the peace around here.”

“You know me, I’m Rodimus.” He nudged Ratchet. “It’s your turn, doc.”

“Fine. I’m Ratchet. Retired head medical officer.“

“Cool names!” Luffy, having sprung back up, was jumping up and down. “This is my crew, the Strawhat Pirates!”

“Roronoa Zoro. Soon to be greatest swordsman and second hand man.” ‘Moss head’ introduced himself. The orange hair girl stepped out of the group.

“I’m Nami, the navigator.” The long nose man shakily emerged after her.

“I am commander Usopp! Best sniper in the world! I’m also the leader of one thousa-“

“Don’t even start.” The suit wearing man stepped up. “Sanji. I’m the crew’s chef.” The animal like thing approached from behind another crew member.

“Um, my name’s Chopper. I’m the doctor.” He tapped his hooves together nervously. A woman, one who hasn’t said much until now, patted the hat on his head in a compassionate manner.

“I’m Nico Robin, an archeologist.” She smiled sweetly and quickly got out of the way of the blue haired inhuman human man rushing to the front.

“Name’s Franky!” He struck a strange pose. “A SUPER good shipwright!” The skeleton stepped up beside him and did a short bow.

“My name is Brook. I am lucky to be the musician of this crew. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” When he stood up the large blue man stood beside him.

“I am Jinbe, the helmsman. It is a pleasure to meet you as well.” He bowed deeply.

“Now that we did that, do you guys have any food?” Luffy asked immediately and without hesitation.

The fifteen of them stood in Brainstorm’s mildly disfigured lab space, each with very different thoughts running through their heads. A new world, a new people, things most on the Lost Light never even imagined possible. From then on, the world got a little more chaotic.

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Saturday Fandom :) Zero Chenford in this one but good separate SL’s for them both. Really good growth for Tim though which at this point you all know I love. Let’s dive on in.

3x12 Brave heart.

Tim is paired with Nyla today since Nolan is otherwise occupied. They visit the hospital since Harper wants to check in on John and his son. Tim is annoyed cause they’re gonna get roped into something just being there. He takes a phone call while Harper checks in. It's the venue he booked for Angela's bachelorette party. They're calling him to say they're canceling and keeping his deposit. Tim was already grumpy being here and this is not helping.

Harper rejoins him and he asks her opinion on venues and she's got nothing for him haha They're about to leave then Lo and behold they spot guys with concealed carry’s. Tim mutters how it’s been less than 5 minutes since they arrived. Grumpy Tim has arrived and isn't leaving anytime soon. I do love how he walks up to them. Hand on his duty belt as they approach. Me likey. This man makes me a puddle just walking. My god. How does he do this? The man tries to charm them both. Saying how they must be recruiting from modeling schools now.

It's not working in the least. He then adds on between Tim and Nyla he can’t tell which one is prettier. Harper cuts him off and says clearly her HA! Tim looks so offended. His reaction is the best part. He low key knows how handsome he is. Except when women announce it then he’s shy af. He looks like he took it so personally. LOL

No Lucy around to help him lick his wounds. It's ok Tim I think you're the prettier one hehe They quickly find out it’s La Fiera’s body guards. Their cop spidey senses immediately going into overdrive. Tim groans because now they’re gonna be here all day. Harper asks him what he thinks she’s doing here? Tim says 'Nothing good'… We know that’s right.

Lucy and Jackson are also at the hospital. Their rolling stop turned into more. She took off and destroyed city property. She injured herself in the process and cut her arm. They’re now stuck there until she is patched up. Jackson says he’s gonna grab breakfast since he didn’t this morning. Lucy questions him skipping a meal. He replies he didn’t have a choice Tamara is eating them out of house and home.

Lucy apologies for thrusting her upon their living situation. Jackson is trying to be sweet about it says it’s ok… but wondering when she’s going to be leaving? Lucy says it’s so hard to get ahold of the housing program. They have crazy long wait times to check on her application. Jackson mentions using right now to check since they’re stuck anyways. Lucy lights up says that’s a good point. She gets very excited only 3 callers in line. She is so adorable I can not.

Jackson makes his way back to Lucy. She mocks him for his terrible breakfast choice. I mean it's not a great one ha Everything seems like it’s lining up for them. Their suspect is all patched up so they are ready to go. Their suspects runs just as Lucy’s phone call is answered. Poor Lucy that's some bad luck. Lucy hangs up losing her place in line. They chase her all the way to the parking lot where she passes out….They find out she’s a drug mule and that’s why she collapsed. They’re gonna be at at hospital even longer now especially waiting for a Narcotics detective to show up.

Angela is made aware of La Fiera’s presence at the hospital. Walks away from her OB appointment leaving Wesley hanging. She finds out she’s here "Just for her son." Angela doesn’t believe that for a minute. Wesley comes and finds them all angry she missed her appointment. Tries to ask Tim if this was work related? He makes sure to stay out of their spat LOL Tim is beyond adorable as the scene continues. He lost Angela’s venue of choice earlier. So he tries to make it up with a sports bar LMAO

Oh Timothy, Look at that gorgeous smile of his when he tells her his plan. Tim is so damn proud of himself and is shot down quickly after. Angela's face has me cracking up so very much. Tim gets nervous and says he was joking… He would never....The way he backtracks has me rolling. Watching Tim quake in front of strong women always gets me. What makes him such a sucker for Lucy. Also she is not around to negate his terrible idea's atm and it shows haha

Harper rolls up with security footage of La Fiera clearly not at the hospital "Just for her son." They spot Mack Daniels as one of the guards…Tim’s face is everything when he sees this. Clearly hasn’t changed his ways at all working for a Narco boss. SMH.

They roll up and Mack looks high as a kite. He lies about knowing who his client is. All he tells them is it’s not La Fiera. Tim tries to get him to cooperate. Saying he doesn’t need anymore trouble i’m sure. Mack cracks and says he’s work for Tomas Madrigal. All three of them groan. He’s the kingpin of drugs in Southern California. Multiple investigations going on for him. No way Mack doesn't know that.

He then starts the pity party about why he had to take this job. How it’s all Tim’s fault. He comes at Tim SO hard. Tells them he can’t be picky about the money he makes. Up to his eyes in debt. Tim tells him working for the enemy isn’t the answer. Mack goes on that his client is dying cancer. He’s only there to make sure no one interrupts his final moments. Mmmhmm sure…

Angela calls him out about La Fiera coming by. Mack tells her she only came by to pay her respects. Ok sure Mack… and I don’t find Tim attractive. We’re both telling lies today aren’t we? Clearly she is here to make a play for his business before he dies. They get interrupted by Tomas’s son telling Mack to get back to work. He sends more daggers Tim's way before disengaging with them.

I adore Nyla checking in on Tim. Asking if he's alright? His body language is stiff as a board. Poor love having to reface that decision he made back in 3x06. It was the right call but doesn’t make facing Mack’s wrath any easier. Also seeing how much Mack has fallen from grace since he last saw him. Taking jobs like this. Too bad Lucy isn’t there to help him. Since she’s not he shakes it off and pretends he is fine. When we all know he very much is not. But once again his girl is not there so he will clam right up.

I do love this trio working together. Only thing missing is Lucy. I hope in s6 we see Lucy make detective. Then these three BAMF women and Tim with metro can all work together on a case like this. Be amazing it would. Sigh. A girl can dream can’t she? Anyways Nyla says she certified for wire tapping and they have their next move.

We return to Lucy and Jackson waiting out their suspect. She now has to pass the drugs before they are able to leave. Plus they need someone from narcotics to show which they haven’t. Lucy tries her hand again at the phone call. She’s told she's 46th in line….Jackson says he’ll check on narcotics to see if they’re coming anytime soon.

After he’s told no update he pulls out his phone. Looking back at Lucy like he’s doing something wrong. I mean he is....lol. Lucy notices right away he’s looking at something. She comes over and asks what he’s doing? He lies and says Tiktok Lucy is incensed when she see that is NOT what it is. It’s clearly him watching Tamara. She just doesn't know why. This isn't Jackson's best moment I'll say that.

Lucy is instantly in protective mama mode over Tamara. She's so mad at him. As she should be honestly. I would be pissed too Lucy. WTF Jackson. He tries to cover it up by saying he’s testing their system. Then she pulls a line from Tim’s playbook. Calling Jackson a lying liar who lies baha Also she can break Tim Bradford when he's lying you are not going to fair much better my man ha I’m so offended for Tamara tbh and for Lucy. How Jackson assumes she took his Baby Yoda figurine. Just because of her background.

Jackson decides to step it in more with his next set of words. (Stop you fool....) That she shouldn’t trust Tamara cause she lived on the streets. How he wants her to trust Tamara. But she probably had to do a lot to survive on the street. Lucy is so upset he didn’t tell her how he really felt. Also the way he's coming after Tamara. He continues his witch hunt saying baby yoda is missing. Lucy snaps and says he isn’t. That she broke him. Didn’t think he would notice like he did. She was gonna replace it soon. Then does a Mic drop of a line leaving Jackson stunned. Rightfully so IMO. Not your best moment good sir....

The SL with La Fiera’s son is tragic af. It's all her fault (not that she is going to see it that way.... ) She brought him into the line of fire. Using him as cover to make her dealings. He gets caught in the middle and killed because of it. Tomas's son comes after her and Diego is the collateral damage. Wrong time wrong place for that kid. Its pretty damn sad.

Angela was there talking to her when her son is shot to death. So she blames Angela for the death of her son. He was away from her when the shooting began. (Couldn’t have been the deal she made of course…) This sets up the finale and 4x01 and why LA Fiera comes at Angela like she does. Even though Angela saves her life Diego was in the crosshairs and dies.

Angel gets pinned down and calls for backup. Luckily Nyla and Tim are still in the building. This little moment between them is too cute above. I love their rivalry with one another. Tim saying he’ll take two leaving the third for Harper. She has to over compensate and say she’s got the big guy. Tim’s reply ‘Not that big’ LOL It is sexy af to watch him in action not gonna lie. Dispatches his two pretty quickly.

We return to Jackson and Lucy waiting for their suspect to get out of surgery. Lucy is still on the phone waiting for a call. They finally answer her and she finds out Tamara is in. That she’ll get an email by weeks end. Her little dance of excitement is so damn cute. I swear that is just Melissa coming out and I friggin love it. Jackson takes this opportunity to apologize for being a suspicious jerk. Good man.

Super proud of him for doing this. I love that he wanted to make it right. But grateful Lucy had the foresight to stop him. It would break her heart and Tamara wouldn’t feel ok staying there. Be the worst idea ever to tell her he felt that way. Love Lucy looking out for her in that way. ❤️ His heart is in the right place but it would crush Tamara.

This final scene with Mack gets me right in the feels. Tim waits for him to leave the hospital. Wants to try and get through to him one more time. Mack giving him every excuse in the book why he can’t go to rehab. Tim battles back with more logic. The same kind of logic Lucy would throw at him in a situation like this. Like 3x07 where she destroyed his every point. Asking how many times have they seen junkies act like this? Say the same things? How many actually got out of the hole without going to rehab?

This is such a good scene for Tim. We once again get to see his good heart come out. Watching what’s become of Mack is eating away at him. Tim had to try one more time to help him. To save him from himself. He does a damn good job with his speech. Gah it’s so good. Eric crushes it per usual. Pre-tears in his eyes as he passionately pleas with his friend. Killing me softly.

Look how far Tim has come. I can not. This scene is proof of that growth. Also the good heart he had before it was beat up by Isabel and all that trauma he endured. He's confronting Mack even though he knows he's going to bite his head off. Because it's the right thing to do. Even tells him to use his hate for him. Especially if that's going to be his drive to get better. To get clean and go to rehab finally. That he refuses to give up on him.*heart clutch* You can see Tim slowly getting through to Mack with his unwavering support.

it really hits home when Tim tells him to be a better example for his kids. The way Eric delivers that line. Gets me good. To take his lumps and cowboy up. The beautiful mixture he has now of logic and empathy. It gets through to Mack and he pulls him in for a sweet hug. This hug is the best part. This gets me right in the feels. Lucy would be floored by him in this moment. For Tim to even think to reach out like this. To be there for Mack in this way. My damn heart.

Letting that empathy and good heart of his to see the light of day again. It was always there but it got buried in his trauma. I saw a quote the other day made me think of Tim. Also of the impact Lucy has had on him. ‘I think the most beautiful thing in the world, is watching the light come on in someone’s eyes after they’ve been in the dark so long.’

If that isn’t Lucy and Tim and the impact she’s had on him idk what is. She’s re-awakened this part of him he thought was long gone. The light in his eyes is back. I mean for Tim to even think to reach out like this. His growth always blows me away. He couldn’t stand the thought of his friend drowning. Especially after his hand in it. Needed to be apart of helping him heal. So he took a chance and it worked.

Even when they’re apart Lucy’s impact on him shines through. This scene is absolute beautiful proof of that. This man is wonderful and refuses to let his friend suffer. To go through this alone. So he makes sure he knows he has his back. The scene ends on a sweet note though. Tim asking if he knows any venues for bachelorette parties? Mack giving him same answer he already tried LOL So Cute. I can not.

Lucy and Jackson make it home. This is the cutest part of the episode for them. Tamara has made dinner for them both. it’s a very sweet thing for her to do. Tamara tells Jackson she has something for him. Saying she knows Lucy broke his Yoda thing LOL Then panics and makes sure he knows. Lucy confirms before she continues. This scene is too funny. Tamara got him a cute plushy to replace it. He is floored by her kindness. The fact that she felt the need to replace it at all. Even when she didn't break it.

She says it’s to thank him for letting her stay. It’s the first time she’s felt safe in forever. You watch the guilt wash over Jackson. How much he regrets ever thinking badly of her. He wants to tell her but Lucy stops him. I love the way Lucy gently puts her hand on his arm. Like 'No she doesn’t need to know this.' He course corrects and says she can stay as long she needs to. The smile on Tamara’s face says everything. It’s so sweet.

Jackson geeks out and ask if she’s seen The Mandalorian? She says it’s based on a movie right? Jackson tries to keep his geek in check and says he has a lot to teach her haha it’s very cute way to end the episode for this trio.

This ep although apart was super good for them SL wise anyways. What I love about them. They stand up so well as characters separately. I always prefer them together but I’m not miserable with their SL's apart every once in awhile.

Side notes-non chenford in this case this whole ep was this ha

I do continuously love how soft Nyla has become for Nolan. She drags Tim to hospital to check on him cause Henry collapsed.

It’s cool that Bones is Henry’s mom LOL

Thank you as always to those who support these review’s through likes, comments and reblogs. I love them so much I shall see you all in 3x13 crazy 2 eps away from being done with s3.