#fluff. again. yeah.

[sleepymarimo]

𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚

synopsis: you catch him smiling.

pairing: zoro x fem!reader cw: none, just fluff! his little smile?? he's precious :') wc: ~600

even zoro doesn't realize when his shoulders relax, when his features soften and the most minute of smiles curls at his lips.

another victory, another step forward toward everyone's dreams coming true.

despite the light atmosphere and celebrations, he likes having a good vantage point. if that means being a little separated from the group, then so be it.

the spot he's found, atop a small hill that's just close enough to keep an eye on things, is perfect.

his chin rests comfortably on his palm, while his free hand brings a half empty bottle of booze to his lips. between the night sky and salty sea air, the swordsman can ask for little else in this moment.

it's peaceful. the sound of drums and laughs, clinking bottles and shouts, the crashing waves and-

click.

his head is quick to snap toward the sound, those once relaxed features morphing into something more stern, maybe with a hint of annoyance. a rough hand reaches for the hilt of one of his blades, quicker than can be seen by the average person.

it fades into something just a little more gentle when he realizes it's you, his shoulders dropping. zoro's attention is caught by the camera between your hands.

"oi," he calls, a hint of warning in his tone, "a camera? really?"

setting his bottle down, he places his palms on the grass and rests his weight on them. his earrings chime together as he nods his head toward the spot next to him.

you've no reason to protest as you claim your seat, shoulder brushing against his. "i had one more photo left on it," you explain, your fondness of him clear as you continue, "so i thought i'd make it a good one."

your words are so sugary that he swears his stomach starts to ache. maybe they're just butterflies, on second thought.

"stop buttering me up, woman." he mumbles roughly, leaning over to check out the developing photo. "you already have me."

the image staring back at him makes his brows furrow, his cheeks warming in that way he detests.

zoro isn't used to seeing himself so unguarded and undeniably happy. the marimo has never been one to sweat the small stuff, always on the more carefree side of things.

in this photo, he just looks too… soft.

"burn it." he looks away, reaching for the bottle he'd yet to finish.

your laugh has his jaw tensing, then he throws a mock glare your way when you nudge your shoulder against his. "no way. why would i burn this?" you wave the photo in front of him.

he grits out your name, trying and failing to be intimidating. maybe it would've worked, if you hadn't been dating him for months.

"i don't look that that." he insists, glancing down at the picture. "don't let anyone else see it."

"i won't, i won't." you assure, admiring the photo with a smile. "it's just for me. promise."

zoro isn't entirely pleased that there's proof of him being a softy out there, but he trusts your word, trusts you.

you take note of this, leaning your head on his shoulder and offering him your best smile. "are you mad at me?"

the rise and fall of zoro's shoulder is indicative of the deep breath he takes, contemplating the question even though he knows the answer.

his head briefly tilts up toward the sky before he lowers it enough to bump his nose against your temple.

"no."

[scribbling-dragon]

missing ranchers forever and ever and ever (a redraw of THIS from a year ago)

[click for better quality! + closeups under the cut]

[sarushka-01]

hi. I exist and came to serve more fluff with pretty hsr men (this time it’s our one and only silly gambler dude, aven ♡)

gn reader as always here!

Waking up everyday to the sight of your lover cuddling into you is probably the best thing that has ever happened to you. The warm light shining down onto you two through the curtains, the quiet morning with no sound of alarm ringing.

You blink once, twice, to wake your eyes up. When your vision finally stops being blurry from your sleep, you register something - a bunch of messy blond locks stuffed into your face. It smells nice and it’s fluffy, sure, but it really tickles your cheeks. You try to wriggle out of this weird position you’re in, only to be yanked back into your place by a hand

“Good morning…?” you whisper, somehow unsure if the one next to you is awake (as if what just happened wasn’t the proof).

“No” Aventurine mumbles and leans into your touch more, as if you were about to disappear into thin air. You chuckle quietly at this and prop yourself up on your free arm to kiss his cheek. You notice how a faint smile creeps its way onto his lips, yet his eyes are still closed - as if trying to fool you into believing that he’s asleep (you both know he’s now 100% awake).

“Wake up, sun’s already up” you try again and earn a quiet groan from the man. He shifts under the duvet, his golden hair disappearing and reappearing moments later. This time he’s facing you, eyes squinted to let in as little light as possible. You smile; his eyes are one of your favourite things to look at, and to see him in a situation like that is a sight to behold.

“That doesn’t mean we need to as well, does it?” Before you can answer, he adds “besides, it’s comfy in here. And you can’t argue, it is rare for us to be able to wake up like this, together. You could reward me on my day off and let me sleep longer, [Name].”

For a moment, you’re not sure what answer to come up with - after all, he is right. Situations like these don’t happen often and you should savour them as much as you can. But not when it’s… wait, what system time exactly is it?

Before you manage to even turn around to check, Aventurine cups your cheek and stares at you with so much intensity behind those pretty eyes of his, as if his life depended on it. (Quite funny how it’s just another morning; nothing less, nothing more.)

“Don’t. Just, focus on me right now. You’re not in a rush, so why the hurry?” Something in his voice stops you in your tracks, and for a split second you’re just staring at him with wide eyes. He chuckles at that expression, bringing you closer to him and kissing your forehead. You melt into that warmth, suddenly hyperaware of your surroundings, of the sun’s rays you don’t really want to accept yet, of the comfortable position you found yourself in, of the softness of Aventurine’s lips, and most importantly, of Aventurine himself.

You sigh, half in defeat, half in relief, as you slide one of your hands underneath the silky fabric of his shirt and placing it on his bare back, cold fingers meeting warm skin. He shivers just slightly, but doesn’t push you away. Instead, he leans in closer, chin resting atop your head.

You move in a little, until your lips are mere inches away from his neck and your breath’s tickling him. You place a kiss on that burn mark, the commodity code that stings, yet the blonde sighs at that feeling, as if content.

“You smell nice” you manage to whisper into his skin before drifting back to the dreamland, this time in your lover’s gentle embrace.

[heartz4shauna]

dating art!! part 2 here

side note: literally have never written for a guy in this light so. don’t eat me ty x

❀ cannot keep his hands of off you!!!

❀ yall could literally be doing anything, grocery shopping, at a bar, at a restaurant, WHEREVER and one of his hands is glued to you at all times

❀ loves talking about you to patrick, who doesn’t find you interesting all that much but nods along anyway

❀ tries to act manly in front of people to impress them but absolutely melts under your touch

❀ speaking of, he lovessss when you play with his hair!!! it’s literally his weakness

❀ “hey, art? can you go do something for me really quickly?” he looks over at you and sighs, “seriously?” and you’d pet his hair and he’d fold “yeah, okay, fine.”

❀ loves spoiling you no doubt. coming home from work/college one day and there’s a necklace on your bed with a note ‘just dropped by, left this here ;)’

❀ loves to cook for you even though he’s terrible. waking up in the morning and somethings burning, so you run downstairs and he’s just like “i wanted to surprise you with breakfast..”

❀ will try to get his way no matter what though. “c’mon, baby pleaseee?” he’d whine, his sad blue eyes only need to glance at you and you give in

❀ absolutely adores when you come to his matches!!! you think it’s just common courtesy as his girlfriend, but he thinks it’s so sweet of you. you give him a little wave as he walks onto the court and his cheeks get all red

❀ “you did so good” you’d tell him and he’d try to act all cool about it “yeah, thanks, i know” but in reality he’ll think about your compliment for the rest of the month

sorry this was so short, i can’t think of anything else to write lol

[atlabeth]

Girl for one get that glass of water! andddd this is a loose request but I LOVE knight Luke and we just gotta see them have that cinderella live action ball scene like romantic dancing maybe the secret garden as well but either way we gotta see these gals at a ball! Have a great day you're an amazing writer!

under the moonlight

fic about the ball

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

a/n: thank you so much for this request it is so fucking cute lmao. i changed it a bit to make it work with my vision (bc they wouldn’t really be able to dance at a ball) but the core is that they're dancing together!!! and it is much more intimate and personal lol. here is the cinderella scene that the ask mentioned (and that i took inspo from because it's a beautiful scene lol)

wc: 2.5k

warning(s): basically all fluff

as usual, a mix of hcs and traditional fic!

ALRIGHT LAST TIME WE LEFT OFF princess was dancing with princes during the ball and luke was sulking at his first ever ball accompanying you as a knight 

and thankfully, that all goes okay. 

You don’t get murdered, Luke only goes slightly insane, and you don’t fall head over heels for any royals. 

All in all, a pretty alright night in retrospect. 

But post-ball is rough on both of you. 

You complain about how much your feet hurt from your heels and how uncomfortable your dress is and how your cheeks ache from smiling so much. 

To your surprise, as Luke follows you down the halls, he laughs. 

You stop in your tracks as you whirl around. “And what do you find so funny?”

“Nothing,” he says with a slight smile, almost private. “Just… good to be back with you, princess.”

A small smile of your own starts to creep on your lips. “It was only half the night, Luke.”

“And you have no idea how much I missed you,” he muses. 

You just shake your head and continue walking. “You’re funny.”

(he’s not joking. he’s just going through it now that he’s not training 24/7 and actually has time to feel emotions again) 

You finally get back to your room—thankfully, you got out of any post-ball events with any princes by citing exhaustion, and it’s very rude to demand more of an exhausted lady—and Luke shuts the door behind you as you sink into the edge of your bed. 

“God,” you groan as you immediately peel your heels off, letting out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to those.”

“If it’s any help, you looked very regal out there,” Luke says.

“It is my duty,” you say as you smile inwardly. “You looked very knightly out there.”

“And that’s my duty,” he says in kind. He gets a chuckle out of you. 

You begin to take everything off—you undo your hair from whatever elaborate style it was in, you strip your wrists and fingers bare of bracelets, bangles, and rings (though you leave a certain necklace on), you undo parts of your dress. When you take your nightgown from your chest and go behind your folding screen, Luke clears his throat. 

“Princess,” Luke says, “do you want me to—?”

“You can stay,” you say. “I don’t mind.”

And Luke, idiot that he is, gets all in his head. 

(Does she not want me to leave because she doesn’t even see me as someone who could like her like that???) (We’ve been friends for so long, does she just see me as an older brother???) (Does this mean she trusts me or sees me as like. a painting on the wall.) (what the fuck) 

It’s not any of those, poor boy. it’s just that you feel more comfortable around him than anyone because you’ve been around each other for your entire life—he knows you better than anyone. What’s the harm in him being in the room when you’re separated by a folding screen anyway?

but Luke is dramatic and also so fucking insecure when it comes to your feelings for him lmao 

and he has a reason to be i guess?? because at this point while he knows that he has feelings for you (hasn’t fully realized he’s in love) you haven’t realized your own. you just think you have a lingering childhood crush on Luke and it’ll go away as you get older and start being courted 

(spoiler alert: it will not go away.) 

so he gets all weird and silent, giving one word responses as you talk with him, and when you come out in your nightgown you immediately stare him down. 

“Luke,” you said, “what’s wrong?” 

He blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Nothing.” 

“Luke,” you repeated. “Come on.” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he repeated as well. 

You crossed your arms. “Don’t act like I don’t know every single thing about you.” 

“If you do, then you should know that nothing is wrong,” he countered. 

You stared at him for a moment more, then you held out your hand. “Dance with me, then.” 

That actually seemed to throw him off guard as he frowned. “What?” 

“Did you go deaf back there?” you joked. “I want you to dance with me.” 

He managed a smile, though it was slightly awkward. It only made your smile grow. “I don’t dance, princess.” 

“Which is why I’ll teach you,” you said with a nod. “I’ve had plenty of practice.” 

“And I have none.” Luke gestured at his armor. “I’m not exactly suited for it, either.” 

“You can take off your armor,” you said. “It’ll make it all much easier. And a lot quieter.” 

“My job is to protect you, princess.” Luke laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I can’t exactly defend you if all the armor’s gone.” 

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. He really did worry too much. “Nothing’s going to happen here, Luke—not now. I’ll even let you keep your sword with you if it matters that much.” 

He still didn’t seem sure. You inclined your head and took another step forward, still holding out your hand. 

“I’ll count you through it all,” you promised. “And if you like, I can hum one of those orchestra tunes they played earlier tonight. And I promise it’ll make you feel better.”

“...Fine,” Luke relented, and he started undoing his armor. “But you don’t tell anyone about this.” 

“Your secret is safe with me,” you remarked. 

It took a fair amount of time for Luke to get his armor off, but it took just as long for you to get every layer of your ball gown off earlier—and besides, you had endless patience reserved especially for him. The toned forearms revealed as he rolled his sleeves up certainly helped. 

“Are you ready?” you asked as you held out your hand again. 

Luke took it uncertainly. “I feel as if I’m the one meant to be asking you that.” 

“You can lead next time we train together,” you said with a smile. “For now, you’re in my domain.” 

You put Luke’s hand on your waist and reached for his other one, adjusting until it was right, then you looked up at him. “Does that feel alright?” 

His eyes were startlingly dark this close, surprisingly intense. He nodded. 

“Good. I’m going to teach you a few basic steps so you can get used to it.” 

Luke nodded again. You wondered why words seemed behind his grasp. 

yeah girlie I wonder why 

Luke is. not a great dancer 

You’re not surprised, and you don’t say a single word about it as you teach him the basics. he spent his childhood swinging a sword around, and you spent yours learning etiquette and ballroom dances lol 

He steps on your foot about ten times and apologizes like a freak every time, you just laugh and smile and tell him you’re fine. Sure, your slippers don’t provide much protection and Luke’s boots aren’t great against them but you honestly don’t even feel it. you’re too busy getting lost in his eyes lol 

And for someone who spent two years training like an insane person, he gets frustrated very easily when things don’t go his way. 

“How do you do this? It’s impossible.” 

“I learned this dance when I was twelve, Luke.” 

as much as you jest while you’re teaching him the basics you’re encouraging him the entire time because he’s your best friend above all else!!! and you honestly believe he can do anything lmao 

And he’s a quick learner! He didn’t become the youngest kingsguard in history by learning slowly. So soon enough, you’re actually dancing together. 

Luke’s hand on your back feels like the most natural thing in the world, and you can tell he’s actually starting to get a little into it. 

You didn’t have to count your steps off anymore, so you’d switched to humming one of your favorite symphonies from the musicians back in Aurelda. 

Luke is still focused on landing every move, but your lead and the music gives him confidence in this that he didn’t really know he had. He spins you, and you get an idea as you twirl your way to the balcony door. You open it and look back at him. 

“Princess—” Luke starts as he takes a few steps towards you, but you just shake your head with a grin and hold out your hand. 

“Trust me.” 

And he does, somehow. 

You didn’t know what part of himself Luke had to get to in order to actually go along with this, but he allowed you to fully take the lead. His eyes never left yours as you guided him through one of your favorite dances—sometimes you called out whatever move that was coming next, and he would do it perfectly. His instincts and reaction time, sharply honed by his training, actually came in handy. 

“And lift!” 

Luke braced his hands on your waist as he raised you into the air without missing a beat, and you found yourself actually laughing with pure glee as you landed. You grinned at Luke who had a smile smaller than yours, but that you knew meant the same. He glowed with exertion and the light of the full moon shone down on him. 

Angelic was the only word you could think of to describe him. 

“Princess,” he said, bringing you back to the real world, “are we done?” 

“I see no reason not to end while we’re ahead,” you said, slightly out of breath from his lift. “You’re a natural. Are you sure you’re not a prince?” 

Luke’s smile didn’t fully reach his eyes for the slightest moment—he covered it up before you could fully analyze it. “Thankfully, I’m not. Otherwise I would have had to do that all my life like you.” 

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” you said offhandedly. “Especially when you’ve got such a great partner.” 

Luke suddenly lowered himself into a bow, his arm held in front of his chest as he bent over. You couldn’t stifle your laugh in time, but he was smiling when he rose. 

“The only proper way to truly end a dance, so I’ve seen,” he said. “I wouldn’t be such a great partner if I forgot that.” 

You grinned as you took the skirt of your nightgown in your hands and bobbed into a curtsy. “Thank you for the reminder, my lord.” 

A shiver ran through you and Luke’s eyebrows creased. “You should get back inside. You’re not dressed at all for this weather.” 

“It’s simply a night chill,” you said, and you walked over to the railing and rested your forearms on it. “And it’s too beautiful a night to ignore.” 

“It truly is.” 

You heard Luke walk up next to you, so you glanced over. His gaze was only set on you. 

You felt your cheeks flush and you bit back your smile as you stared back up at the stars. For a moment, you stood together in comfortable silence. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you finally said. 

You could hear his frown in his words. “What do you mean?” 

“Exactly what I said.” You leaned a bit closer to the railing, shifting your balance. “Your presence always… calms me. And I was a bit nervous for tonight.” 

When Luke finally responded, it was more restrained than usual. “Why?” 

“Well, I was nervous tonight because you put the idea in my head that I was going to get murdered,” you said wryly. “And your presence calms me because it always has.” 

“So… I made you nervous and calmed you down for what I made you nervous about?” Luke shook his head. “I’m sorry, princess.” 

“Why are you apologizing?” You finally turned to look at him, the smallest smile on your lips. “Anytime I got overwhelmed on the floor, or felt as if I was going to keel over from boredom, I just searched around until I found you.” You shrugged. “The sight of you alone was enough to get me through the rest of it.” 

“And of course,” you tipped a shoulder as your gaze drifted back to the stars, “you danced with me for no reason. That gives you all the good will you need from me.” 

“It wasn’t for no reason,” he said. “It made you happy. That’s reason enough for me.” 

The chill in the air was a blessing as you felt heat rise in your cheeks, and your smile grew just so. 

“Besides.” You could feel his eyes on you as he continued. “This was my first ball. Anytime I got overwhelmed, I would find you in the crowd, and your confidence got me through it.” 

You chuckled as your gaze fell to the marble railing. You didn’t know if you’ve ever felt less confident at a ball—but knowing that Luke was looking for you the same way you did him made butterflies arise in your stomach. 

Warmth spurned all through you, and the fingers on your forearms felt bumps rise on your skin. You didn’t exactly know what possessed you as you cleared your throat and started back towards your room. 

“It’s late,” you said, perhaps a bit too hasty. “We— we should turn in. It’s going to be a long ride back to Aurelda.” 

You paused at the door, waiting to hear Luke’s footsteps or his voice, and it took a few seconds for him to do anything. 

“...Yes,” he eventually said. “I apologize for keeping you so long.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you opened the door and walked back in. Always so noble—it was no question he had knight’s blood in his veins. 

“It’s not your fault, Luke,” you said. “You were just meant to drop me off—I got you to stay.” 

You sat on the side of your bed as Luke put his armor back on. There was no point in it, but he refused to let the implications of him leaving your room at this hour in his underclothes fester. 

“I chose to stay,” he said. “I know better.” 

“You can give it a rest for a night, Luke,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m your princess, aren’t I?” 

“Certainly.” 

“And you are my knight.” 

“Yes.” 

“Then I don’t see how anyone could have a problem with my knight spending time with me.” You smiled as you leaned forward, meeting his eyes. A smile twitched on his lips for just a moment before he continued to get dressed. 

Soon enough, he was ready to go. Luke paused at the door, fingers on the handle, and met your eyes. 

“Thank you again for tonight, princess,” he said. “I…” 

His breath caught for a moment. His eyes flickered down to your neck. A millisecond later, they were back at eye level, and you allowed a knowing smile. 

“I enjoyed it,” he murmured. “Goodnight, princess.” 

“Goodnight, Luke,” you said softly. 

And you got one more smile out of him before he closed the door behind him. 

[princeguri66]

Y'all ever get so heated that all you wanna do to calm down is to lay in someone's embrace?

Gaz x Male Reader

All fluff!

Ever think of going to Gaz after having a shitty day, where nothing went as they were supposed to. Your day was shit, waking up later than usual, getting chewed out, training didn't go well at all, some other soldier bumping into you at the mess hall making you spill some of your food on the ground and you just felt so drained and the cold environment did not help at all.

Stalking through the halls with your back tense with frustration. You can feel your jaw getting tighter and your brows furrowing as little bits of your day flashes in your mind. You walk around mindlessly as you try to think of a good way to de-stress, itching for the touch of a certain sergeant. And speak of the devil there he is.

You see Gaz being illuminated in the glow of the tv in front of him, the thin blanket wrapped around him making him look so much cozier. it's as if God was giving you a sign.

Gaz tore his eyes away from the telly to lock on to yours, seems like he noticed you, standing there all awkward. With a small quirk to his lips he beckoned you over with his hand, you immediately followed the order to sit next to him on the couch.

"Bad day?" He asks you, wrapping an arm around your stiff shoulders. You only grunt as an answer and relax into his hold, all the tension and frustration in your system melting away as he brings you closer to his side.

"Big guy just needed his cuddles after a long day, hmm?" He teased, you put all your weight onto him as a response. He's now stuck between the couch and you, effectively using your body to replace the thin blanket he had earlier.

You place your head between his pecs and he wraps his arms around you, gently stroking at your back, knowing that it helps you get more comfortable and just as he expects, you absolutely melt into the touch. Letting out content hums in the space between you. How easily you turned to putty in his embrace.

Gaz chuckles as he sees your brows unfurrow. Seems like you're getting quite comfortable there.

With a kiss to the top of your head he settles in, turning his head to face the tv once more but this time he has something infinitely better than that thin ass blanket.

[m1d-45]

renewed

summary: many things have changed in aether's life since he met you...

word count: 2.7k

-> warnings: n/a

-> gn reader (you/yours) + aether as traveller!

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

aether isn’t quite human. at least not entirely, not anymore.

it could be argued that even prior to coming to teyvat, he and his sister weren’t entirely human. they were nearly always stronger than the native life wherever they traveled, never lingering long enough for an accurate portrait to be drawn. between their glittering wings and the razor sharp swords at their hips, it could be easily argued that from the perspective of the people they visited they could be called angels.

a few wrote legends about them. the gilded warriors with shimmering swords that blinded as they slashed, so in step with each other that it was as if they were one being. the saviors, the adventurers, the peaceful giants, twin faces atop four wings apiece. lumine always managed to sneak away a copy of these legends, and they privately laughed over the artwork at their camp that night.

“we don’t look that intimidating, do we?”

“i’m fairly certain-… hang on, is that a tail?”

“that’s supposed to my hair, i think.”

“no no, look. it connects lower, here.”

“…by the stars-”

they didn’t see themselves that way, though. they were simply twins, defined by the other in every sense. never apart for long, always stood side by side, trading swords before a dangerous fight as a promise to return them.

‘draw me with courage.’

‘wield me with valor.’

lumine and aether and aether and lumine. they never fussed about the order, so long as they were together. call them whatever you’d like, insults or praise or a simple, tired request to leave, as long as it was both of them. they were all they had left. the other half of their life. to try and pry apart the seam would only result in bleeding hearts, limbs tangling together to at least die by the other’s side. even ‘twin’ was too simple a word to fit the entirety of their lives into. ‘twin’ implied a degree of separation, an impossible gap between them where wind would blow and the world would dig into, pushing them away like waves in a boat’s wake. ‘twin’ was too shallow a word, to bitter, too small to encompass everything they felt.

such fervent devotion could never be considered ‘human,’ for no human would ever live long enough to know the fear that came with knowing everything that swelled would eventually fall. no human would clutch so desperately to the twin pillars in their life—would ever consider basing their world upon two things. they’d call it foolish, even, for what would you do if one collapsed?

aether never liked that question. he didn’t like it when he and lumine first heard it, he didn’t like it when he and lumine heard it a second time, he didn’t like it anytime he and lumine heard it after that. he didn’t like it now, her sword slipping from his hands as he reached, his fingers barely brushing hers.

the unknown god laughed, and he barely had time to feel rage before the world closed in on him and his memory faded away.

aether and lumine. lumine and aether. she was always insistent upon his safety, but just this once he wished she wasn’t. living in whatever stasis she was in within that cube would certainly hurt less than this, bile rising in his throat at his failure.

somewhere in his mind, he knew that it logically wasn’t his fault. he remembered the layer of warmth that had surrounded him mid-battle, saw the reflection of understanding in lumine’s eyes. it wasn’t technically his fault, he didn’t ask to be saved, ignoring that it was his own actions that led to his god’s blessing. perhaps if he wasn’t so strict about the time of his prayer he wouldn’t have to be alone on this beach, though there was no way to find out. the sand stretched on either side, and though it wasn’t infinite, he had not left the immediate area around where he’d first woken up. to move was to move on, to leave, to accept that his world had shattered into a thousand little fragments and to give up on picking them off the floor. he couldn’t leave. to leave was to surrender to this new fate. to leave was to forget about his sister, to forget about his self, to forget about the half of his life he never imagined he could lose.

family and faith. to lose his gods favor was a threat he could live with, as there would only be himself to blame. but his sister?

if he hadn’t fished up paimon, he’s not certain he would have eaten the fish that came up instead.

she was bright, bubbly, at least after coughing up an impossible amount of seawater. she thanked him profusely while wringing out her hair, insisting on helping him in return because “it’s only fair!” as if he wasn’t three times her weight (save her magic) and and ten times as strong.

and he let her. he’s not sure why, but he did. he watched her fumble to catch crabs, ending up covered in sand, and managed a weak smile. it was for her, he told himself, spearing three with a sword that wasn’t his, helping her arrange driftwood into a measly campfire. he hardly felt hungry despite being on the beach for what had to be a few months in local time, but she was so insistent that he have some.. it was for her benefit. he just had to get her somewhere safe, then… then…

“so, where are you from?”

aether looked up from his barely-touched meal, meeting her eyes. they were so wide and earnest, too trusting for someone that just met him.

not that he had any ill intentions. no, lumine would always joke that the day he was willingly rude to another would be the day the sky turned red—something that had been the case on one of the planets they’d visited, much to her delight.

aether turned back to the fire, pushing aside the memory. “another planet.” his voice was hoarse and his throat scratched with salt from attempting to drink the seawater earlier, which was not as potable as he’d hoped. “i flew here with my sister.”

“you have a sister?” paimon looked around, though they both knew she wouldn’t find anything. “where is she?”

aether swallowed salt and bile, taking another bite of his crab just to stall. “how about we talk in the morning?”

she let the topic drop.

he didn’t sleep that night, lending her his scarf as a pillow and keeping watch. she didn’t wake when the moon erased the shadows in the sand, or when the sun first crested the sea, or when the sky fully lightened to a pale blue, birdsong filling the air. one of the remnants from the fire found its way into his hand, reaching out to gently shake her awake. her eyes were heavy and she covered her mouth as she yawned, aether looking away before his own could water.

he drew nothing in the sand as she asked her questions—who are you, where’d you come from, who are you missing, what happened to her, why didn’t you do anything?—sketching out mountains and seas he wiped away as soon as they took form. he spoke for much longer than he meant to, his words pulled out as if they were tied to some invisible string.

when was the last time he was alone for this long?

paimon listened intently, brows drawn and frowning deeply, watching as he carved twin—twin, separated by time and space—stars into the sand. “so… what you’re trying to say is that you fell here… from another world? but when you wanted to leave, to go on to the next world, your path was blocked by some unknown god?”

wow, he wanted to snark, i didn’t know there was an echo out here! but the chance never came. magic gripped him by the throat and his eyes went wide in panic, his mouth shaping words he didn’t choose to say by force. he didn’t want to say what someone else told him to. he didn’t know what was going on. he was being pulled at some ghost’s whims, walking stiffly across the sand. it did not skid from beneath his feet, nor pull his balance one way or another. it was solid as stone, leading him up the beach without warning, without knowledge of why or when it would stop.

when was the last time he was this helpless?

(lumine.)

he stumbled across the shore on uncoordinated limbs, fighting fruitlessly. ahead, slime bubbled up from where the sand met the sea, but the ghost did not stop. mist coagulated into a pale blue blob with hazy spots for eyes, and only then was he allowed to stop. paimon yelped and ducked behind him, a familiar weight sinking into his hand. the slime had barely the chance to turn and see him, jerking up as if surprised, when his arm slashed forward.

a sword. not his sword, not lumine’s sword, but a sword, pulled from nowhere, the dull blade hacking at the blob of its own will until the sludge dispersed and sunk back into the sand. a soft mist lingered above the sand, but he was pulled forward without care or remorse. he didn’t even know if it would have hurt him.

weight hit him between the shoulders, cold spreading over his skin and absorbing into his skin. energy buzzed beside his ear, his earring humming with neither outlet nor conduit. were he anyone else, he would have been afraid, but he recognized the buzz. all at once, he understood. all at once, the weak puppetry was vindicated, his muscles relaxing and letting it happen. your energy sank into him, and he let himself stop worrying.

if you were here, he’d be okay. if you were here, you could fix this.

if you were here, he could find his sister, and everything would be okay again.

aether was not human. not entirely, not anymore, and he knew the people of mondstat could tell. you had stayed to guide his body for a week, alternating between helping the knights with dvalin and exploring the plains of mondstat. he was weak and your grip was frail, his attacks uncoordinated and clumsy, but you were there. you understood. the cavalry captain gave him a long stare as they exited his domain, a mix of curiosity and disbelief swirling in his one eye.

when you finally left, you did so in the middle of mondstat square. a physical weight lifted from his shoulders, the anemo he’d absorbed turning from calm and controlled to pushing at the edges of his form, trying to make him give. the anemo archon approached, soothing the wind with a wave of his hand, pulling him along for a drink and a chat. his knees did not want to bend without your command, his mind fraying a bit from continued exposure.

“how interesting, that you’re still standing after a week without rest,” the bartender remarked, the glass in his hands obviously an excuse to keep them above the bar. “what’s your name, outlander?”

he did not think of his own name. no, when he went to answer, he thought of the name you had given him, the one you whispered as you sheltered him from the unknown god’s wrath. it was not his, but it was yours, and wasn’t that what he was asking for?

it took too long for him to answer. red eyes narrowed but eventually chalked it up to exhaustion, giving him directions he couldn’t hear. the captain led him to a room in the back, but he didn’t sleep that night, sitting at the window and searching for the thin sliver of stars.

he didn’t need to eat anymore. he could, certainly, and it tasted fine enough, but he didn’t exactly need to. he’d thought it odd, at first, that barbatos was healed strictly by the wind, but he understood now. he spent his free time sitting under vanessa’s tree, half-asleep as he waited for your return.

you were his source of energy, of will. you knew answers to problems he’d have given up on, and if you didn’t then you tried and tried and tried again until you got it right. you were the power that purified dvalin’s tears, you swept the wind to fix the holy lyre, you cleared the seals around decarabian’s tower. he was a medium, and he was happy with that. your presence waxed and waned, the lapses without you seeming to pass by in a blink.

a few of the knights worried for him, but he knew your vessels understood. none held as much of your power as him, none were as reliant on you, but they understood. they excused his oddities with a kind smile, paimon always at his side to make sure he didn’t waste away the day simply sitting in one spot. prior to coming to teyvat, the concept of elemental sight was something he was only vaguely familiar with. a few planets had some talented witches that could feel the flow of energy through the ground and grass, who could watch the mist in the air and predict the weather. he’d never experienced it himself before. now, the world lit up as his eyes took on a teal sheen, your power mixing with the anemo within him to grant him insight. the world was so vibrant, even the most mundane sights capturing his attention. how could he not stare? if he had it his way he’d always view your creations like this.. but whenever paimon snapped him out of it he’d come out of it with a headache, not to mention his staring tended to be off-putting to those around.

a lot of his new behaviors were. when within your control, he moved stiffly, with repetitive motions forecast well in advance. you chose what he said, when and how he moved, you controlled the very flow of elements through his body. it was harder and harder to think for himself without you there and though paimon handled most of the conversation, there was only so much she could say.

“who are you looking for?” lumine. his sister. himself. the knowledge was there but his throat was closed, unwilling to move without your order.

“thank you for your help.” you’re welcome. don’t worry about it. it was nothing. all he could manage was a stiff nod, eyes flicking to the sky, counting the days until your return. he’d gotten a good grasp of your routine by now.

“who are you?” yours. a traveller. lumine’s. he could not blame those they ran across for their suspicion, even though he wanted to. could they not feel the remains of your presence lingering around him?

they had to go to the rite of decension soon. liyue was holding off, though, waiting for your arrival. they’d never dare to make you miss it, so aether felt no hurry to leave. he laid in the middle of windrise, staring up at the stars. he used to sit atop the knights’ headquarters, but it took too long for the lights of the city to turn out and he liked picking out the various constellations.

his was up there, somewhere. he didn’t have a vision like your other vessels, but he could feel it. it was written right beside your decision to save him and not lumine, alongside your actions in mondstat and everything you’d do in liyue. fate, you’d called it, well-acquainted and intertwined.

aether fell asleep on wet grass among cold wind. he did not get sick, nor was he attacked or otherwise hurt. why would he have been, anyway? your blood was in his veins; he had nothing at all to fear.

[ancha-aus]

Gifted Drabble - NewAgeAU - Understanding

Hey @spotaus !! As promised :3 I got a little something for you!

Your drabble got me thinking and made me consider something. (also i am so sorry if i got the ages wrong. I really tried)

As always. Feel free to use whatever you want from it or just ignore what doesn't fit <3 I am just having fun and it is meant as a gift for you <3 (also to motivate you to keep writing more about it!)

*------------------------*

Nightmare gets off his horse as he stares at the castle.

Well. His castle now.

He is still not quite used to that. Refering to it with his castle instead of his mother's.

Even after almost 12 months. He still doesn't expect to see himself in the mirror. or maybe the problem is that he expects his old self. The young teen.

The weakling. The failure.

No focus.

He isn't that anymore. He now has the magic. He is the new powerful leader of his land. And he will make this work. Even if he still has no idea what he is doing.

No. He needs to get back and make sure no one tried to rebel against him. That no one tried to hurt Ccino while he was gone.

Nightmare gets off the horse and someone rushes over to take the horse. Nightmare stares at this person and figures out quickly it is the stablehand who has been taking care of the horses.

Nightmare looks over his shoulder and motions the new people to follow him. The set of brothers, the dog monster. and Killer.

Nightmare walks into the castle as he speaks "Some of the other servants will take you to your chambers to rest and clean up. Tomorrow the three of you will join some of my other staff to see what is needed and where you fit. Killer. You will-"

"My liege."

Nightmare blinks and looks over.

Ccino has appeared out of one of the servant secret passages and walks straight towards him. Nightmare can see, and feel, when Ccino takes in the new people and just who they are.

Ccino's face turns a bit harder and Nightmare can feel the annoyance and frustration in the air "My liege!" Ccino smiles brightly as he speaks "Have you eben succesfull in finding a possible knight?"

Killer chuckles behind him and mutters "someone is in trouble~"

Nightmare knows Killer is being sarcastic. But if only Killer knew how right he was.

Nightmare however could never be worried or afraid off Ccino. For him? Maybe. But never because of him. He gives a tiny nod. The only amount of respect their places and ranks allow them when others are near "Ccino." He waves into the direction of the new arrivals "These people will join my workers." He looks at the four new arrivals "This. Is Ccino. He is head of the house." a title that will never pass away from him. Not as long as Nightmare is in charge.

Ccino nods "Pleasure." he looks back at Nightmare "My liege. If you have the time. There is a matter we need to discuss."

Oh yeah. Nightmare is very much in trouble.

Nightmare's voice is still calm as he speaks "Very well. I will meet you in my study after i made sure they go to their chambers."

Ccino feels unamused but he nods with a bow before he leaves the hall with a quick turn.

Nightmare turns back to his new... servants? He never quite liked that word but it works. He turns to his servants and feel his tentacles slowly rise from their position on the ground. They slowly start to idle again as he makes sure the new people learn where their rooms are and where to get food.

He brings Killer to a room more seperate from the others. Beyond the guard positions. Just because Nightmare wants to give him a chance and the fact he doesn't fear him is refreshing doesn't make Nightmare forget how dangerous Killer is.

Fuck this was a mistake.

What if Killer hurts people here?

What if he hurts Ccino?

Killer looks around his room before lounging on the bed "So what is the deal with the other skeleton?" he grins and wiggles his eye brows "Little secret going on there?"

Ngihtmare needs a moment as he wonders what Killer could mean. Then it sinks in and Nightmare feels his tentacles all spasm as he shudders "No." the answer is final and harsh. Killer actually looks surprised.

Nightmare holds his sight and speaks slowly "I will only repeat this once and remember this well. I don't like having to repeat myself." he holds Killer's gaze "Ccino is head of the house. He will remain head of the house. Nothing anyone can say or do will change this." he holds his gaze before straightening himself again as he moves towards the door "Tomorrow we will start training."

Kilelr sputters "We?!"

Nightmare stops and shoots him a look "Obviously. How am I to keep track of your skills and promise if i don't oversee the training myself?" and he leaves the room.

He hurries back through th castle towards his study. Sinking in and out of shadows as his mind, body and soul all know where he wishes to go.

He stops by his study and enters it.

Ccino is already in there. Studying the old masks in the special glass casing.

Nightmare closes the door and Ccino turns to him with a glare "What were you thinking?"

Nightmare gets taken back to a year or two prior. When he was still small. When he had cut himself to practise for the ritual. He hadn't been able to sleep and had been nervous about the apple ritual already. He had wanted to practise his part. to perform a blood oath to promise loyalty until death to his twin.

Ccino had caught him with a knife out.

Nightmare blinks back into the here and now as Ccino looks at him expecting with his arms crossed.

Nightmare blinks as he looks to the side for a moment. How is it that even wiht him being taller than Ccino he still feels small compared to him? "They were innocent."

Ccino looks unimpressed as he crosses his arms "Now with less lies."

Nightmare blinks and shoot his traitorous tendrils a look. No doubt they did something to give his little slight lie away. Ccino jsut raises a brow as he taps his foot.

Nightmare speaks again "Most of them were innocent. I didnt want them to get hang for something they did not do."

Ccino hums as he waits "And the murderer?"

Nightmare looks at Ccino "how did you know?"

Ccino sighs but has a small smile on his face. an old fond feeling as ccino looks at him and the tiny part of nightmare that had been stressed relaxes. Ccino just keeps looking slightly amused "There is a reason i told you to get out more. you only hear so many things from people in the castle nightmare. You need to go out to hear everything from everyone. I know who he is because i go to the market sometimes."

nightmare gives aslow nod as he looks away. So Ccino knows that nightmare brought a serial killer home. great.

Ccino sighs and sits on the couch for visitors and Nightmare joins him instead of sitting in his own chair.

Ccino looks at him "Just... tell me what happened. Why did you decide this?"

Ngihtmare looks at his hands. again slightly shocked to see the goop. It never stains anything yet it feels like a reminder. It is dirty. it isn't the holy light the powers promised. it is weird and looks diseased which is fitting for him. someone who betrayed everyone. who betrayed his twin. He may have gone it to protect dream. But even dream doesn't see this.

Where does that leave him?

Ccino's hand rubs his cheek and Nightmare shakes himself out of it. Ccino looks so worried as he rubs his skull "Hey... it is okay... i am not mad at you. I am worried about you. I am sorry if it seemed like i was mad."

Nightmare knows ccino isn't mad at him. Not like that at least. Nightmare can feel that. But he likes that ccino still tells him as much too.

Nightmare sighs as he leans into the gentle hold and touch. Ccino had always been one of the few to hold him. As his and Dream's babysitter it had been his job. But Ccino had always truly cared about them both. The moment that Nightmare could feel emotions he had been shocked by that.

That Ccino held no hatred for him. Not even a little bit. He enver blamed either Nightmare or Dream for his situation.

Nightmare speaks softly "The... kngihts you picked out. they were amazing. They showed much promise and would have made fine warriors."

Ccino hums as he keeps rubbing his skull "But?"

Nightmare sighs "They hated me. Even if with time they would eventually grow loyal and accept their place. They would forever hold resentment towards me for making them come."

Ccino hums and nods "I get it. It were only options Ngihtmare. there will be more people who fit the job."

Nightmare feels another part of him relax. knowing that Ccino still understands him "Killer wasn't afraid."

Ccino hums questioning.

Nightmare speaks slowly "He wasn't afraid. Not of me. Not of his situation. He stood up when near me. He didn't cower and he didn't hide." he sighs as he leans into the hug. He shouldn't need these anymore. He is an adult now and not that awkward young teen anymore. Nightmare shouldn't still count this much on the other "He saw me and didn't hate me. He knew who i was and didn't hate me. It was... new."

Ccino still feels unsure but he holds him still "And that gave you hope? That maybe if soemone didn't start with that hatred they could maybe become truly loyal?"

Ngihtmare shrugs. He isn't quite sure. he didn't think that far ahead. He just didn't want to lose another person who didn't hate him.

Ccino sighs as he keeps rubbing his skull and the back of his neck "I won't say i trust him. Because i don't. And I worry about you. I am scared he will end up hurting you."

Nightmare rolls his eyes as he answers "I have yet to even lose a fight and i had almost no training." all because of his tentacles and his newfoudn power.

Ccino just holds him tighter "There are more ways someone can hurt you Nightmare."

Nightmare feels the fear of before return. THe idea that somoene would kill Ccino. "If... if him being here makes you feel unsafe i will return him to the guards."

Ccino laughs and shakes his skull "Ngihtmare I am fine. I am not scared for me."

Nightmare keeps holding him as he feels himself start to shake. fears he had been trying to ignore and push away return to the front of his mind "Waht if they realise just how important you are? What if they try to hurt you to hurt me? What if they kill you to hurt me? Ccino maybe it is better if you hide." hide... hide away... out of sight out of mind.

Ccino just rubs his neck "It is okay Nightmare. It is okay. They don't know. and even if they have an idea your reputation adn the past of this country will just make them think I am someone who will be used as sacrifice last. That i will be punished last or least."

Nightmare shakes as he keeps holding the one person who remained "What if they hurt you because of me?"

Ccino is so calm and sure "then it would be on them. Not you. You don't want others to hurt me. It wouldn't be your fualt Nightmare and I will never see it as your fault. It is okay."

Ngihtmare still feels unsure. He made it obviously clear to Killer that Ccino is improtant. Killer is smart and Nightmare has no idea what he could be planning.

Another thought enters his mind. Somethign he had found early on in his ruling.

A very very damning piece of paper. a slave contract.

Nightmare speaks softly "I am sorry you are stuck here..."

Ccino shrugs as he keeps rubbing his back "Not your fault."

Nightmare shakes as he holds him "I.... I can undo it... I can give you back your freedom..."

Ccino had been taken from his home. Sold to the castle with a very clear purpose. First to be a babysitter. and later... well... Drema had been planning to be all powerful and go from young teen to adult in just one ritual. There is a reason Ccino's age had been only 6 years older than them.

Ccino had been suposed to be Dream's from the very start.

Ccino hums "A nice thought. Not that i thought about that contract in a long time. It hardly matters nowadays. Not like I can just leave."

Nightmare feels his grip tighten and his tendrils curl around them. He doesn't want to let go of the one person who cared. The one person he could count on to help him. To give a single shit about Nightmare. But... but how long will it take before Ccino starts hating him? If Nightmare keeps him here?

Nightmare holds him close "I... I can get you a horse... I can give you gold..." He will just use some of the treasury. Ccino deserves it. "I can send some guards with you on your way. You could go wherever you want. Back to your family."

Ccino locks both his arms around his skull and hums softly. an old lullaby and Nightmare stops. The amount of memories almost hurt. It was always Ccino who held him on bad nights. Or when he was sad. Or when everyone pushed him aside again.

Ccino speaks sfotly "Nightmare. When I say i can't leave i don't mean i physically can't leave. It means i don't want to. I decided a while ago i want to stay here Nightmare."

Nightmare shakes but refuses to let go "What... what about your family?" Ccino's fmaily have to love him. Ccino is so amazing. There is no way he isn't missed dearly after he was stolen from them.

Ccino sighs sadly "Nightmare... They have been killed a long time ago. The day i was taken the guards made sure i knew there was nothing to return to. even if i ran." Ngihtmare feels himself freeze. why... why had he thought?

Ccino rubs his skull "It hurt a lot but i accepted a long time ago Nightmare. I accepted that you two were my family now... and well... now it is just you. and it is okay. I am okay with that. I will always support you Nightmare." he grins "You may be older now but i like to think i am still the older brother."

Nightmare feels aprt of himself break as he just sinks fully into Ccino's hold "please don't also leave me." it is weak. it is pathetic. He should be stronger than this. He should have been prepared for this.

Ccino just covers his skull wiht his body and holds him "I am not going anywhere Nightmare. I will be by your side. I swear on my soul."

Nightmare relaxes and lets himself enjoy the comfort he should not need this badly. He enjoys it and can't help but let his eyes slide around the room. His sight finds the masks and remembers.

The masks are the highest honour. only shared with those most special.

He thinks something catlike will fit his older brother.

[seagull-scribbles]

This is more an allegory for what's wrong with my soul

[kairithemang0]

does this count as a curtwen moment?

the answer is no, but i'll say it is because im that desperate

[roger-that-cap]

delicate

bradley bradshaw x fem!reader

warnings: cheating (it’s not bradley who does it but it is on the reader), slight emotional cheating, alcohol use, uh that’s it really! unedited as always!

word count: 4.4k

summary: bradley bradshaw has a best friend. he is also in love with his best friend. it’s a shame that everything’s just a little too delicate to mess with.

the way that i’m actively participating in this fandom is literally so funny to me considering i swore off posting my work in any fandom in like 2022 but here we are. my obsession with the white man with the mustache cannot be thwarted by words of the past. or the man with the cute glasses. or the cocky one with the toothpick. but we’ll take it one day at a time

also this is inspired by delicate by taylor swift ofc 🤪 this is for all my lover girls/boys/friends who want hot guys to dream of them. we are cut from the same cloth and we are two sides of the same coins.

Bradley Bradshaw was an outgoing guy. He was the guy that stopped the music just so that he could put on a show of his own. He was the guy that walked in late, expected attention, and got it. He was the guy that took other people out of their shells. He was confident in a way that was endearing. He was steady on his feet and he never faltered.

Until he met you.

The first time he saw you at the Hard Deck, he was intimidated. You were having so much fun on your own with your little group, clearly civilians who ended up in a bar full of sharks in uniform. That first night, all he did was look from afar.

The second time he saw you, your group was a little smaller, but you were still sporting that same smile. He was close enough to hear you turn a few men down over the course of the night, and that was enough to throw him off again. If it was meant to be, he’d see you again, he thought to himself.

And then he saw you again.

It was the night Penny finally put a karaoke machine in the bar. Bradley managed to convince all of the squad to come, simply because he scheduled himself for at least 3 songs. So they all showed up, and just as he was about to start thinking of what his opener was going to be, the bar music stopped and the karaoke machine started playing, accompanied with girly laughter.

There you were. Standing right at the front of the room with sunglasses over your face and a mic to your lips, fighting a smile as you started a one woman rendition of “End Game” by Taylor Swift.

It was clear by the grin on your face that you were doing it purely to make your friends laugh. He watched you in awed silence, dancing all over the small space and laughing when you took a misstep.

“She’s more ballsy than even you, Bradshaw,” Hangman said, nodding up to you dancing. “Or maybe the word is obnoxious.”

“She’s so cute,” Natasha said, laughing. “I love it.”

“Big reputation, BIG reputation,” you were saying into the mic, leaning halfway over.

“I’d have to be so drunk to do that,” Bob muttered to himself, but even he couldn’t deny the guts it took to go up there even as a joke.

The song ended, and you kindly handed the mic to the man standing at the machine, a sheepish look on your face until you were surrounded by your laughing friends.

“You gonna top that, Bradshaw?” Jake asked, and then Bradley looked over at you again, still smiling.

“I’ll let the bar cool down and prepare for me,” Bradley said, still looking over at you. It was then that Jake caught him.

“Why don’t you go talk to her?”

“Huh?”

“You should talk to her,” Jake repeated, and Bradley frowned at him. “She's pretty. Looks nice enough.” There was a pause, and then that ever-mocking smirk that came to haunt everyone’s dreams. It meant Jake was up to something. “Or I will.”

So, he did. He walked up to you, thinking it couldn’t possibly be that bad. The worst thing you could do was say “no”, and he would take that in stride. He never had to before, but he would if it meant he could just talk to you. Just see.

He was walking up to you, coming from behind, and then it was like you knew he was coming, because you whipped right around. And then he caught your eyes and all he could say was, “I love your hair.”

He kicked himself in that moment, but he realized afterwards that was probably what saved him. It was a strange comment, but it was better than a sleazy one. It was probably the only reason you didn’t tell him to leave you alone right away.

“Thanks!” You looked him up and down, but it wasn’t super flirtatious- you were just looking, like you were searching for a genuine compliment to give him. You just looked so sweet. “That mustache and shirt combo is awesome. I wish I could pull off colors like you.”

And that was the story of how you and Bradley became close friends. In the beginning, he told himself that he was okay with being just friends with the pretty middle school teacher. He was totally okay with you having a boyfriend, because he was your friend, and only that. But every time he saw you smile and laugh or how passionate you were while creating your lesson plans, he couldn’t help but know that he was lying to himself.

It didn’t help that your boyfriend was a piece of shit. Originally he wasn’t one outright, it was just the little things. He walked on the wrong side of the sidewalk. Bradley witnessed him make you split the tab at the bar. He had a wandering eye. He touched you only when another man got close, almost like he was guarding a treasure rather than protecting the love of his life. It was all wrong, and it all left a sour taste in Bradley's mouth.

The sour taste only got worse when five months into knowing you, that same good for nothing boyfriend of yours got another girl pregnant.

Bradley could have sworn that he was going to get discharged for beating up an enlisted man the first time he heard the news. You were crying, bawling your eyes out over the phone in the middle of the night, crying so hard you were nearly throwing up. You told him that you were calling him because you had nowhere to go and you had to get out of your house. He didn’t blame you. In fact, he had never driven so fast.

So, you stayed at his house that night. One night turned into three, and then three nights turned into a week, and it snowballed from there. At first, it was easy to hide his feelings. You were sad, and making a move was the last thing on his mind. All he wanted was for you to feel better, and soon you eventually did. But his selfish mind almost wished that you never had, because the second you started smiling again in his house, in such close quarters to each other, he felt his resolve slipping.

He felt the words coming on the tip of his tongue every morning. You left earlier than him to go to your classroom and set up, and you always left coffee out for him. Sometimes you made his eggs if you had enough time. You made dinner more often than not, insisting on doing that if he wasn’t going to charge you for staying with him. And then you would pick the best movies and you liked the ones he picked, too. You sang in the shower and the bathroom you used always had makeup and face wash and a comb in it, but you still kept it neat. The words were close to escaping his mouth, but when he clamped his teeth down and held it in, it made that same sour taste that your boyfriend did.

That very sour taste in his mouth was there at the bar when he realized he was watching you far too often for it to be friendly. The last thing he wanted to do was make it seem like he was trying to make a move on you while you were clearly still trying to get over what your ex had done.

“You’d better get your girl, Bradshaw,” Jake drawled, and Bradley rolled his eyes.

“She’s not my girl and she’s a grown woman, she can do what she wants,” he said tiredly, his voice so monotonous that the words sounded rehearsed. He knew that all his friends knew that they were, and it seemed like everyone but you had caught on to the hopeless romantic act he was hiding.

“Well, she never drinks and she doesn’t look like she’s handling it too well.” And then Bradley’s head whipped to the side, just where he knew you were.

Just as Jake said, you were walking up to the karaoke machine, an equally drunk Natasha by your side as you looked through the selection, no doubt about to pick something obnoxious. You weren’t as alert as you usually were, and it worried him. You hated being out of it, that’s why you never drank. He walked up to you quickly, knowing that if you started a song there was no taking you away until it was over.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Bradley said from behind you, and he saw your shoulders tense. “I think it’s time to wrap it up.”

“Wrap it up?” You slurred, looking up at him with those pretty eyes that always made his heart skip a beat. “Wrap it up?!” Natasha grimaced at you and then at him, already knowing exactly where it was going. “You know who didn’t wrap it up-”

“It’s okay, that’s not what he meant,” Nat rushed out, turning to look at Bradley. Natasha was one of those that could be four times over the legal limit and no one would no. He envied her in that regard. You were clearly the opposite.

“I just wanted to sing a song,” you said, poking Bradley’s firm chest. “You gonna let me sing a song, Rooster?” There was something about the way you said his callsign that had his cheeks going red. You always called him Bradley, except for when you had that one look in your eye, the one that really had him biting his tongue. “You gonna get off that perch and sing with me?”

“I think it’s time to drop you off at your place,” he assured you without even thinking, but he immediately wanted to swallow his own words when Natasha shook her head rapidly.

“I got kicked out,” you hiccuped, giving him a pointed look. “I sleep in your bed, remember?” You had no idea how much he wanted that to be true.

“Not in my bed,” he corrected quickly when Natasha’s brows shot upward. “In my house.”

“Well, you should probably take her home before she starts a song,” Nat whispered. “She was about to pick “Cowboy Casanova”, that was going to be a disaster.”

He chucked a bit as he touched your arm, his heart fluttering as you looked up at him with your pretty, expressive eyes. His laugh died in his throat. “A-are you ready?”

“Do I get a Bronco ride?”

“You sure do,” he said, and then you two were walking out in the night.

It was easy to get you in the car. You were an easy drunk, just loud. He buckled you up easily and shut the door as you started your own rendition of some Taylor Swift song you had probably told him to listen to.

After your song ended, the ride was quiet. He was happy with the quiet. He was happy because that meant he didn’t have to open his mouth to talk, which meant that he could physically roll his lips shut. Closed lips meant that there was no possibility of him saying something and fucking up a good time. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that you were grinning from ear to ear.

“You’re all smiles now,” he couldn’t help but point out, and he saw you turn towards him.

“You make me smile,” you said easily, still drunk, but it made his heart skip regardless.

Once again, the ride was quiet besides the purring of his Bronco and the occasional blinker noise. Even the music was turned down, but your head was bobbing to some imaginary beat. He couldn't help but make himself see this as a nicer moment than it really was, as a sweeter moment. In reality, he was taking you home because you were about to drunkenly sing a Carrie Underwood song that was going to have you feeling humiliated by the morning. In his mind, he was simply taking you home and making sure you got inside safely. In his mind, it was a simple night, free of drama. There was certainly no cheating boyfriend and no tears.

“What do you dream about?”

Your quiet yet certain tone broke the tension in the atmosphere of his Bronco. “What?”

And then you spoke again, somehow sounding completely sober. “What do you dream about, Bradley?”

“Uh,” he said, feeling his cheeks get a little pink. “I guess it depends.”

“Sometimes I can’t help but wonder-” a small burp escaped your lips— definitely drunk—, “do you ever dream of me?”

His heart stopped. He was so glad you were drunk. There was no way you were going to be able to remember the way he uncharacteristically stuttered or didn’t respond for a few seconds. There was no way you’d remember the flush of his cheeks under the bright light.

“W-what?”

You seemed deadly serious. “Do you ever dream of me?”

“I…” almost to his place. Almost to his place. “I think about you a lot,” he settled on saying, his voice much higher than usual.

“Thinking is nice. I can take thinking as the answer. At least thinking is on purpose,” you reasoned with yourself, seemingly to have forgotten he was even there to begin with. “But dreaming is different.”

He was intrigued. His heart was racing, and his hands felt sweaty on the steering wheel. “How so?”

“Dreaming is you being unable to escape a thought,” you said, and he wondered just how you were managing to get your point across so easily while being so smashed. “Dreaming of someone would mean that you think of them even when you’re not thinking. Your subconscious mind lies with them. It’s deeper.”

You were right. He hadn’t thought about it that way, but you were right. There were plenty of things that he swore he was over that he still had nightmares about and every time they happened, he had to face the music.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I really hope you think about me enough to see me in your dreams.”

He couldn’t say anything. What was he supposed to say? That he certainly did, and that every free moment his mind had meant that it was a free for all full of you and everything about you? Hell, he had once even thought about what your next classroom theme could be. You were that embedded into his mind.

“Wait, is it cool that I said all that?” You asked, blinking up at him slowly as the car came to a stop in your driveway. “I just get really in my head sometimes, sorry if I ruined tonight,” you said, shaking your head with a huge smile, as if you didn’t just rock his entire world in a ten minute drive. “Okay, goodnight.” And then you were jumping out of the car.

“Woah,” he called, racing around from his side and picking you up off the ground. You were laughing, clearly not aware that you had just fallen all over the cement of his driveway. You held onto his arm as he walked the both of you up to his front door, and you almost tripped on a crack in the cement.

“My keys.” You had them in your hand, and for a second, he just watched you calmly struggle with that stupid little smile on your face, like you had all the time in the world as the key kept missing the hole that it didn’t even belong to. “Maybe it’s the wrong door.”

He couldn’t help but laugh when he took the keys from you, already halfway forgetting your conversation from earlier. He held onto your keys as he unlocked his door with his own. He opened the door easily and let you in, prepared to tell you goodnight and go right to his room and try to forget the other was right on the other side of the wall, like you two had done so many times before.

“Where ya going?” Before he could even answer, you frowned at him. “You’re ditching me?”

He turned back around. “Do you need help?”

“I’m a big girl, I can take my dress off,” you said with a grin. “But I- I don’t know. I don’t wanna be alone yet.”

“Okay,” he breathed out. “Okay, you don’t have to be alone.”

And so you weren’t. He stood at the doorway of his guest bathroom, the one that had the makeup and pink towel and even a pink rug. He had given up the space to you without second thought, and as he watched you dart around in it and start to take your hair down and take your makeup off, he couldn’t help but feel his heart swell. You looked so comfortable in his house. It was all he ever wanted wrapped up in just one moment.

“Do you wanna know what broke me the most?” You asked out of the blue as you started to wipe your lipstick off, eyes connecting with his in the mirror. You took a deep breath to wind up for the next round of words even without his response. He knew that you were going to talk regardless. It was one of the things he loved about you.

“I wasn’t even sad about the fact that he cheated. I was happy.”

He was thrown on his ass again by you. You had a habit of taking his breath away more than once a day, probably once every two hours or so to be exact, but this was different. You were pulling no punches. You were throwing hand grenades in the form of words tonight, and he wasn’t even sure you were aware of it.

“It gave me an excuse to leave him. But then there was three or so moments and I realized the reason I was okay with it was because I was finally free of guilt, because the whole time I was with him- I’m an awful person,” you started sobbing and you let yourself sink to the floor, sitting on the pink rug. His brows lifted to his forehead for a split second before he went right down to the ground with you, and his hand found your skin and your back soothingly.

“You’re not a bad person, not even close.” He shook his head. You were an angel. He was genuinely convinced of that.

“I wanted you the whole time.” you slurred, eyes wide but not as present as he wanted them to be. Not while you said the exact words that he had been harboring since what felt like the beginning of time. “Almost ever since I met you. And I can’t help but feel sick when I think about how what he did is my karma.”

He was in shock. He didn’t know if he was more surprised about the fact that you were being so open about something that he was so hush-hush about, or about the fact that you said you wanted him. You wanted him. This was something out of his wildest dreams- just as you had predicted. And then he crashed back down to reality and realized you were drunk off your ass in a party dress, so fucked up that your legs were going every which way and your lipstick was smeared.

“Nothing happened, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he said quietly, ignoring the fact that his stomach felt like it was doing a Simone Biles level floor routine.

“But I would’ve,” you admitted, “if you had given me the sign.” Your bottom lip wobbled, and then you were full on sobbing. “I’m a disgusting person. Awful. Oh my god,” you whined, hands over your face as you hyperventilate on his wooden floor.

You were fucked up.

You were so gone, there was no denying that. He forced himself to let the words go in one ear and out the other, and when he took a few deep breaths of his own, he realized that you were still crying.

“You’re not a bad person, I promise.” You didn’t say anything, but after a few moments, he was sure you weren’t going to change your mind. “I think you’ll feel better if we cleaned you up.”

Your mascara was running, your lipstick was still smeared, and you kind of looked like a hot mess, but you were still gorgeous to him. You always would be. You didn’t say anything, and he took a makeup wipe from the counter and without a word started to wipe your face.

It was a silent exchange. Probably because the both of you were too scared to say much else. You let him wipe your face off and then he helped you stand. You let him take your heels off for you. He left for a few seconds and came back with some of your clothes, the nice pajamas he knew you liked to sleep in, and then started the shower and left. You were in and out.

When you were all done, he was sitting at the table. It was late, but he was drinking a beer with his back turned to you. He heard you clear your throat, and he had to stop himself from jumping.

“Goodnight,” you said quietly, and when he said it back, he heard you turn around and walk back to the room he had given you, and the door hut.

He wasn’t going to sleep well at all.

§§

It was Sunday morning. The worst morning for this situation to be happening. If it was a weekday, you would’ve already been gone, at least. He would have had the whole day to think about how to go about it. But it was Sunday morning, and neither of you went to church. You were stuck.

He didn’t expect you to be up. He knew that he could probably walk to the kitchen and be in the living room for most of the morning without you coming out. Your hangover had to be awful. So, he padded out of his bedroom, rubbing his face and going straight to the coffee pot.

That already had coffee in it.

“Hi.” His entire posture changed.

How he had entirely missed you sitting at the table, he didn’t know. But there you were, a cup of coffee in your hands and a small smile on your face.

You were beautiful. He didn’t know how you didn’t look like you were hit by a bud considering how messed up you were last night, but how could you ever? You always looked so out together and so cute. Of course you could smile with a hangover.

“Good morning,” he said, his raspy voice coming out surprised. He was looking at you cautiously, not quite sure if you remembered what happened. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a baby,” you said, now you were grinning. “It was so nice. Peaceful.” He decided that you definitely didn’t remember a thing, and he relaxed.

He ignored the wave of sadness that came with the loss of tension.

“What about you?” You asked, genuinely wondering, and he sighed. “You have any dreams?” He took a look at you from over the coffee mug he was drinking from. “You know I minored in psych, I love dreams.”

“No, no dreams,” he said, trying to shut out that whole conversation from last night. “I just can’t believe you’re waking up so… happy. Everyone but me and Bob was so drunk.”

“I had a rough night? I cried a lot, huh?” You asked, and he almost laughed in wonder. How did you not realize that he was literally in love with you? How could you forget that the words you said last night were probably the most important ones he had ever heard?

“Yeah, but it’s okay. Everyone has a rough night every once in a while. I’m surprised you don’t have a headache or anything.”

“Yeah. It’s probably canceled out because of the lack of stress I feel now,” you said, and he nodded his head when he assumed that you were talking about shedding the skin of the man that was holding you back. “It was real nice to get all that off my chest.”

He froze.

You were just drinking from your mug, making annotations in your book. He was staring at you with wide eyes as he tried to understand what to make of what you just said. “Thanks for taking my makeup off, too. That would have ruined my skin progress.”

Holy shit, you remembered everything. “What?”

You had to be playing with him. There was no other way. You finally shut your book, and then you leaned forward on your hands and looked at him with your eyes, one of his biggest weaknesses. “I meant everything I said, Bradley.”

“You remember?”

“Yeah, I always do,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “That's why I don’t drink. I do things I normally wouldn’t but I never have the luxury of forgetting, so I always wake up embarrassed.”

Did you realize that you were holding his heart in your hands? “Are you embarrassed now?” Please don’t be embarrassed that you said those things. Please don’t be embarrassed because they’re not true. God, let it all be true.

“Only if you want nothing to do with me,” you said softly, looking at him with such vulnerability that it made his heart skip a beat.

“Are you kidding?” He finally said, and he knew then that you were right about letting the feeling lift off of his chest. “You’re in my dreams almost every night, that’s gotta count for something.”

You made the first move to get to him. He realized then that you were a master at making the first move- he had only done it once (after striking out twice) but you had done it twice in two days. And then you were all in his space, breaching it with a certain confidence that made him weak in the knees. It made him want to hold you and hold onto you.

“Almost?” you asked, and as he looked down at you from so close up, he knew what he had already suspected to be true; he was a goner. “I want every dream.”

“Who would I be to deny you?” And then he made a move of his own, kissing you and effectively tying the score 2-2.

*******

AH

[floaties-for-arsene]

back to my roots

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

me n the bad bitch i pulled by breaking company containment regulations

[bookshelfpassageway]

Miles Edgeworth is rocketing in my appreciation levels as I am playing Investigations

this man will not stop ending up in Situations, so far he's been kidnapped, framed, knocked out, passed out, had a guy murdered in his fucking office, and he just matter-of-factly rolls with it like "hm. guess i'm here now. inconvenient i suppose." while sassing everyone around him and being breathtakingly neurodivergent

like I can't screenshot my physical 3ds but i'm going insane over various moments, like him noting a flight attendant's lounge, going "smells like women's perfume. well, there's nothing of interest to me in there" and then immediately hard Zoning Out until someone goes "...you good?"

and this bc i remembered i have a phone camera

"that's all." MILES

rotating this gay little man and all his mental illnesses

[kittaykattz]

too many cross guild fics about gay sex not enough about mihawk making breakfast for them