#not to mention i was looked after... learned new skills. met new people

[wp100]

who would've thought that the person who introduced me to the programme ive been at for the past 5 months (that's "ended" now bc i got a job, but hey im a success story now) is now my friend. she was a total stranger when i walked into the seminar. i legit hesitated for 2 weeks about the whole thing too. i do not regret joining it one bit. i also do not regret hesitating, it's nice to have a think about something before you try it (unless it has a time limit, this didn't)

it changed my life.

if there's an opportunity right in front of you, just go for it. if it doesn't work out, you can drop out. literally this is a life lesson. do NOT be afraid to get out of your comfort zone and try new things. it'll work out in the end. i promise. life's too short to wallow in your misery.

the hardest thing to do is to Start. once you overcome that step, everything will eventually fall into place.

[sardonic-the-writer]

𝐓𝐰𝐨-𝐁𝐢𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ notes: tagging @orinscrivellos who motivated me to write this. i really enjoyed doing it

↳ warnings: slight implications of transhobia. nothing directly mentioned

↳ song: a little less conversation—elvis presley

masterlist | commissions | carrd

• Two-Bit thinks you’re super kickass for being out and open about yourself in the way you are. It is the sixties after all, and along with living on the East side of town, you aren’t exactly getting treated the best

• But that doesn’t really matter to you. As long as the gang, and most importantly Two-Bit, likes you, then you couldn’t care less

• So yeah, Two-Bit thinks you’re brave. Probably calls you his ‘fearless knight,’ and treats you poshly for a good laugh sometimes. Or about as posh as he can pretend to get. He’s never been really good at playing a rich character despite his improvisation skills. You suppose it’s the way he was raised, the way all of you were raised, that makes it difficult

• Is loud and proud about you being his partner. Unless you want him keeping it under wraps, Two-Bit will pretty much scream it from the mountain tops about how much he loves his boyfriend. Consequences be damned

• “Golly, Two, you just don’t stop talking about him do you?” Ponyboy ogles at his friend as they make their way down the street, heading to meet you for a night out at the Nightly Double. He was in disbelief that anyone could ever talk so much and for so long, much less about the same thing. Even Soda didn’t use to talk about Sandy this much

• “Nope!” Two-Bit pops his ‘p’ loudly, grinning like a shark as he continues on with his train of thought. Pony just shook his head in a mix of awe and horror, already regretting that he had thought to ask Two-Bit how you had been doing. And that was over ten minutes ago!

• Two-Bit has definitely gotten into fights to ‘defend your honor,’ as he likes to put it—most of the time he can hear people at his school bad mouthing you, which any one of you can handle. You don’t live the greaser life without getting your name dragged through the mud after all—but when they start throwing out those names about you, he’ll start a fight quicker than you could blink

• “Oh glory.” You stare at Two-Bit unblinking one afternoon. Two shiny new black eyes peer back, accompanied by a split lip, and you have to resist the urge to drag a hand down your face in exhaustion.All you had wanted to do is come pick him up from his house, and you were met with this mess

• “What? I’ve been trying on a new look. What do you think baby?“

• “I think you’re stupid.” You don't even have to ask how he got those, you already know. A part of you swells with affection at the thought of him caring about you enough to do that, but the more responsible part of you pushed it down in order to sigh

• “But you love me.” Two-Bit retorts with a gleeful laugh, sounding like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Which he doesn’t. In his eyes, he’s got all he ever needs. A mom that loves him, a sister that adores his jokes, friends that have his back, and a handsome boyfriend. What more could a greaser like him want?

• If you come out and then transition, in that order, Two-Bit and everyone would definitely help you with your new style. They’ve spent their entire lives in boys clothes, so they have plenty of fashion tips, if you can even call them that, and materials to spare

• if you wear a bigger size, or want baggier clothing, Dallas and Two-Bit with go and nab pretty much anything you want from the nearby corner store. If you like tighter fitting clothing, or run a little gangly, you are always welcome to borrow one of Pony or Johnny’s outfits. They’d give them to you in a heartbeat if you asked

• Hair greasing lessons! They’ll teach you how to grease your hair up nice so you’ll look tuff, until eventually you’ve learned to do it all by yourself. Two-Bit always smiles the biggest when you come out of the bathroom with your hair slicked back. He likes to think he’s got the best looking partner this side of the railroad tracks

• It doesn’t matter what kind of body you have or want. Two-Bit will support you all the way. It’s not like you can really afford testosterone or major surgery considering you live in the slums of Tulsa with everyone else, and those services aren’t exactly offered to the public thanks to laws at the time, but if you manage to get our hands on any of that stuff, the gang will support your recovery/shot sessions all the way; bringing you whatever you need in the moment and all that jazz, even if Dallas or Steve gripe about running errands

• “Here’s your stupid bandaids.” Dally threw a small cardboard box onto the foot of the couch you were sitting on with a slight rattle. You look up to thank him, and he just blows out a bit of smoke from his mouth. You had half a mind to ask him for a drag of his cigarette, but knew Darry would kill you if he caught you smoking after administering testosterone. He was already nervous enough about you constantly taking shots, so you didn’t want to worry him anymore

• “No problem.” Dallas’ gaze drifted over to Two-Bit, who was sitting next to you, and he smiled lazily

• “Hey Two? If the two of you are banging, does that make you gay, or straight?”

• Dally walked away from that conversation that day with a bruise on his arm and a big laugh tumbling from his lips

[clownery-and-fuckery]

The fact that Harry is canonically FEARED by people in Jamrock really surprises me. Like, I know he's the "human can-opener" and that has boosted his reputation and name among the people, but learning what he was like pre-amnesia is a whirlwind of an experience. Why don't more people talk about it?

This is coming from the wiki page so some things might be a lil inaccurate (I honestly don't know how well I can trust that source just yet) but it says he was on drugs/drunk for the majority of his service (even pre Dora), I imagine this got worse especially during those six years after Dora left him. By that time, he had already partnered with Jean, and had probably rejected his promotion number one.

After Dora left, the substance abuse got worse, but his work got better. It was hard to discourage their best detective, I guess. Even though he was actively funding the thing he was trying to shut down. It's a conflict of interest, he shouldnt have kept his job.

Also, during "THE UNSOLVABLE CASE" its said he left a man unable to walk, held a woman hostage, and shot wildly at a man.

That's just one case. You don't get a reputation like Harry's from one case. You don't make someone run at the mention of your name in the area. Ruby didn't run because of that one case.

Harry was a scary man. An ex gym teacher, off his rocker on an amount of drugs he couldn't count on two hands. He was talking to the tie before he lost his memory. The skills probably weren't a new thing. I like Harry, too, but his routinely "the women are the bourgeoisie" bit isn't just a post-amnesia thing, that's a cemented belief that's hung around his head long enough to become a foundation of every belief, even if you're an ultra-liberal. I don't think he was that popular with anyone he met.

The public were honestly right to be afraid of him.

But the RCM promoted him again. Or they tried. Because, what, Jean somehow managed to cover up everything Harry had done? What else has he done? How bad did things get, if beating a man with a ledger isn't anything more than a footnote in a case file?

Speaking of Jean, he confuses me a little. I mean, he respects Harry enough to cover up everything he did/does, but when it comes to talking about/to him, he puts him down, chews him out, makes it sound like he thinks Harry's actions are unacceptable (which I'm inclined to agree, at least pre-amnesia) but he also actively tries to make this narrative of Harry being crazy and wild and dangerous a thing, to everyone. Even Kim. Especially Kim, at the end. Look at this dialogue:

Those are the words of someone hurt over and over, watching a cycle repeat in another. But Jean still, when he doesn't really need to, decides to cover up Harry's missing gun and badge, and hears him and Kim out at the end of the game. He tears Harry down out of habit, but he also helps him out of that same habit.

He uses the word bewitched. That interested me, because it's infinitely more affectionate than manipulated, or tricked or just lied to. Jean uses it in a sympathetic manner, because he, like the RCM, like Dora, had been drawn in by Harry, and forced to stay until they left, like Dora, or became too bitter to go, like Jean.

It set up an interesting narrative for an aftermath. Would Kim, too, be driven away? Or would he get so sucked into the endless torment of being Harry's favourite, that like Jean, even if he wanted to, Kim wouldn't know anything else? Or had Harry actually changed? Does he get better, or does he get worse?

I would love to see more exploration on Harry after the events of Disco Elysium. I want to know how his reputation shapes how he acts after, I want to know how people interact with him. Its so interesting to me. It's all a bit of a jumbled ramble but yeah!!! :D

[lowtaperfeyd]

Jessica and atreides!reader angst? (Mother and daughter angst then yn slowly turns into evil which jessica slowly realise the pattern was repeating)

Metamorphosis

Lady Jessica x Daughter!reader

(Not beta read, we die like Feyd-Rautha)

author's note: If you guys can't tell I really like writing angst. This is also the longest thing I've written so far :). Also trying a new formatting type.

warnings: mentions of death, mommy issues, mentions of blood, mentions of Paul after drinking the water of life

wc: 1145

Lady Jessica did her job halfway right. To ensure she completed her Bene Gesserit mission, gave birth to twins. A boy named Paul and a girl named (Y/N). While the loophole was clever, the Bene Gesserit could not use the daughter she had given birth to. They said she had tainted her womb while bearing a son. 

Her father, the Duke Leto Atreides, was the only one who actually taught her important things. When she was little she would sit in a stool pulled up near her fathers desk and watch him go through paperwork and meeting notes. While he trained his son to become duke, he trained his daughter what to do in case something happened to Paul. He didn’t brush her off. 

Lady Jessica focused most of her time on Paul. His training, his skills, and his talent. While (Y/N) was taught how to use the Bene Gesserit ways by other members and not her mother. While those tutors did their job well, and she was learning quite a lot, (Y/N) found that her brother, a male, was progressing much faster than her. She was proud of her brother. It wasn’t her brother’s fault, it was her mother’s. 

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

A younger (Y/N) and Paul sat on the damp grass on Caladan on a breezy afternoon. They watched the sun lower into the sky and begin to graze where the horizon met the sea. (Y/N) took small daisies from the ground and started to make a flower crown out of them. 

“You know Paul, if you continue to improve at this rate I wouldn’t be surprised if you were better than our mother.” (Y/N) praised as she continued to pick and tie other flowers together. 

“No, no, no,” her brother replied modestly, “what she is teaching me is all of what she knows. Sooner or later I’ll plateau.” 

“You never know,” (Y/N) chuckled, cheekily, “Maybe one day she’ll go to you for advice.”

When (Y/N) finished the thin crown, she placed it onto Paul's head.

“There,” she said, “I now dubbed thy, Duke Paul Atreides of Caladan. Who will be an excellent and fair ruler.”

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

The only thing that (Y/N) had against Paul, was that her ability to use the voice was much better than his. Paul sounded like a dying horse and (Y/N) could command hundreds of people with her voice. (Y/N) found incredible joy from this. But this fact scared Lady Jessica. 

Lady Jessica was afraid of the power her daughter held. She knew of her hatred against her brother who took most of the time spent learning. Of course this all wouldn’t matter when the Duke died and they lived in the desert with the Fremen. Until Paul had a war forged in his name and (Y/N) had nothing but her brain. 

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

(Y/N) was standing in front of the giant pool of water, watching her reflection rippled and ebbed. As she stood there, she imagined a war that was fought in her name instead of Paul’s. Tons of water, from people who died while waiting for the ‘Lisan Al-Giab’ If this was my war, no one would die. She thought. After a couple of minutes a Fremen woman came by and poured the water of another warrior. If my mother and her witches hadn’t meddled, we wouldn’t have this mess. She stood there for hours, hours past when the sun went down, pondering her existence and her brother’s willingness to say he was the messiah. 

“Are you going to keep looking at your reflection or are you coming to bed?” She heard her mother say. 

“Does it matter if I stay up late? I’ve nothing to do on Arrakis.” (Y/N) responded, sounding completely uninterested in talking to her mother. 

“It does matter, you need sleep in order to thrive.” Lady Jessica declared. 

“Don’t try acting like you care now,” her daughter bit back, coldly, “don’t try acting like a caring mother. Go spread more rumors about Paul.” she sighed out. 

“They aren’t rumors, (Y/N),” She retorted, “It’s what he’s going to do. You and everyone else here realizes who he is and his potential. You need to help Paul.” 

(Y/N) bundled her hands into fists at her sides. Her knuckles popped at how hard she was squeezing them. Your son has changed far beyond what was expected. she thought, you barely recognize him anymore. 

“Would me dying for your cause be sufficient?” (Y/N) uttered under her breath as she continued to look at her reflection, “Should I stand out there and be a martyr? The loving sister of the Kwisatz Haderach…” 

Lady Jessica breathed in sharply and said nothing in return. She took her hands and put them over her stomach where her other child was. 

(Y/N) turned around to look at her mother, “You agree don’t you?’ she assumed.

Still, the Lady said nothing and just looked at her daughter. She met her daughter's eyes. The blue within blue encased her small pupils and her skin looking paler and deeper set than when they had left Arrakis. 

“Why aren’t you speaking?” Her daughter whispered, “Tell me what you think!”

“I think you as a martyr would do as much damage as if you were alive,” She voiced, “your death would be mourned. But, it would not change anything.” 

The sudden use of the voice surprised and startled Lady Jessica, “You imbecile, you using the Voice on your own mother.” 

“You didn’t seem to mind when Paul used it on your old reverend mother,” (Y/N) stated, “Paul and I did the same thing, use the Voice on a reverend mother.”

“You used it on your mother. Paul seized the moment so he could speak.”

“You were never a mother.” (Y/N) asserted, “you were a housemate, an incubator 

at best.” 

This stunned the reverend mother. She had never heard her daughter speak so unrighteously and sternly. It was almost like she had never really known her. The (Y/N) she knew, the sweet girl who collected wildflowers that had grown on the cliff sides, had died when they landed on Arrakis and was replaced by someone cold and quiet. 

“I’ll help my brother.” (Y/N) expressed as she moved closer to her mother, “I’ll do as he says. No matter how much you go against it. It doesn’t matter if he asks me to burn temples or castles, or even destroy planets. As long as I don’t have to follow you.” 

As she concluded her announcement, she turned to hastily walk out of the dark, humid cavern. 

Leaving Lady Jessica on her own; to see what had become of her daughter who would burn down the world if given the chance and her son who slipped unnecessary blood in the name of war. 

[alotofrandomfangirling]

hi, could you do a x reader oneshot on live action Roronoa Zoro from the live action One Piece series!

Roronoa Zoro x reader oneshot (Netflix live action)

Summary: you tend to Zoro's wounds after he is hurt on a fight

Warnings: cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions of blood, me pretending to understand medical matters 🤡 (sorry about that, it was for fangirling purposes only ajskajakja)

A/n: hello anon! Thanks a lot for the request 🥰 this is probably set after s1? Sorry for any plot or grammar mistakes 🙏🏻 i hope you like it 🩷

The salty sea breeze hit your skin as you looked out the Going Merry trying to spot your friends.

The straw hats had left to a village to try to confront another crew. Apparently another annoying guy was threatening Luffy and he was not going to let that pass. It was stupid, you thought, but, when Luffy had something in mind, absolutely no one could convince him otherwise.

Luffy had asked you to stay on the ship in case anything happened. Being the crew's doctor, you had to be prepared for any emergency regarding the crew's well being.

Yep, you were the doctor in the straw hats crew.

You had met when Luffy saw you helping hurt people in the middle of a fight at the small island you lived. He was so impressed at how good you were, how you helped everyone with ability but also with a kindness in your eyes that he had never seen before in anyone.

Having lived your entire life with your doctor grandparents, you had learned from them and was just as skilled as them, so you were always ready to help those who needed.

But you were also a dreamer and wanted to go around the world meeting new people and new places, so when Luffy asked you to join his crew you happily said yes.

- we already have a navigator, a cook... we could use a talented doctor like you. I just know it's you. So, what do you say? - he asked, with that excited smile of his.

And that's how you became a part of this special crew. Everyone was so nice to you, so it didn't take much time for you to get along with them all, specially with their cute swordsman.

Yeah, it was like you clicked. You started getting closer, closer... and before you knew you were dating.

That's why you were specially worried today. You were really afraid your boyfriend was going to do something stupid and get himself hurt again (you still had nightmares about the whole Mihawk thing).

You were lost in your thoughts when you heard your friends coming back to the ship. You immediatly ran to check on them.

- is everyone okay? - you asked worried.

- we're fine, we were lucky. Can't say the same about your man over there - Sanji said and your heart dropped. What did this stubborn do this time?

- shut up, Sanji, i'm fine - you heard Zoro say as he entered the ship too.

You ran to him doing a quick check up with your eyes. That's when you noticed the big red stain on the side of his shirt.

- oh my gosh, Zoro, you're bleeding! - you said terrified.

- this? Nah, this is just a scratch - he said shrugging and trying to play tough, even though you could clearly see he was in pain.

- no, it's not! - you said, in a stern way - come on, we have to bandage you up.

You carefully led him inside and brought your medical kit to start tending to his wounds. He sat down as you began.

- take your shirt off - you ordered.

- Wow you're that eager, huh? - he said smirking, but instantly regretting and wincing with pain.

- Zoro! Will you stop being a brat and let me take care of you? - you said angrily - i can see you're in pain and you're not going anywhere until we fix that up!

You were usually a very chill person, but you couldn't stand seeing your friends and loved ones in pain. That activated a side of you people were even a bit scared of lol

- okay, boss - he said, a bit annoyed but finally giving up.

The way he called you 'boss' made you feel all tingly inside. You were sure going to have to talk to him about it later (and maybe share some ideas 👀) but now it wasn't the time. You had a wound to treat.

He took his shirt off and you couldn't help but take in a sharp breath at the sight (even though you had seen it before lol). Boy was sure shredded.

Focus, (Y/N).

You checked him and noticed he had a knife wound just above his hip. It was ugly, but you could do it.

You grabbed a piece of cloth to start cleaning the wound.

- my love, i apologize in advance, but this is going to hurt.

You started the cleaning.

- shit, that hurts! - he hissed.

- i know, i'm sorry.

You knew you had to do it, but you couldn't stand seeing the man you loved suffering like that. You had to distract him out of it so you could finish your work.

- umm baby, could you tell me again about that time you beat three pirates at once with only one sword?

- what? Now? Why? - he looked so cute furrowing his brows in confusion.

- it's just that... i like to work listening to your voice - you quickly made that up lol

Well, it wasn't totally a lie, you did enjoy listening to his voice, but of course it was mostly to keep him distracted ajskjakaja

He was still a bit suspicious but started telling the story since you asked him (trust me, there was nothing you asked Zoro he wouldn't do for you). Your strategy worked cause you cleaned the wound and bandaged it without him wincing too much.

By the time he finished the story, you had finished your work too. You also gave him some painkillers for him to feel better soon.

- there you go - you said softly and kissed his forehead.

He closed his eyes and melted under your touch, not only because of how tired he was, but also because he felt super safe with you.

- thank you, (Y/N) - he said squeezing your hand.

You smiled at him.

- now please lay down and try to rest a bit, or this thing won't heal - you said in a stern tone, but nearly begging for your boyfriend to take care of himself.

You gathered your medical stuff and were starting to leave the room when he said:

- (Y/N), wait!

- what is it? - you asked, worried he was starting to feel pain again.

- I... I might not be feeling 100% yet. I think you should stay and lay down with me just in case it gets worse - he said in a really nonchalant way.

You rolled your eyes at his completely obvious attempt, but couldn't help smiling and blushing a bit at the thought of the great Roronoa Zoro wanting you to stay with him.

- you're the worst, Zoro - you said playfully as you carefully laid down next to him and put your hand on his chest.

- yeah, but you love me - he replied with that smug smile of his and that deep voice that drove you crazy.

You chuckled at his response.

- yes, I do - you said smiling.

His next words came out merely a whisper, but were enough to give you a thousand butterflies in your stomach:

- and I love you more.

[sissylittlefeather]

A House That Has Everything: Chapter 1

A/N: New series! This one came to me when I saw these amazing AI photos on Instagram made by @blackvelvetep and @_chiara975ep. (Be sure to check out their pages on Instagram!) My fic brain went crazy and this storyline was born.

This is an AU set in regency England where Elvis is a gentleman with a large estate. Also introducing a new OC: Annabelle Martin. I hope you love their story! It's a looooong one, so settle in, friends.

Warnings: NONE YET, this will get smutty (obvi, have ya met me?), but it'll be a slow burn with lots of tension, so no real warnings other than I guess the mention of parents dying

Word count: ~1.9k

Annabelle takes a deep breath and arranges herself to knock on the large servant's door at the back of the great house. This is to be her first day at her new place of employment and to say she is nervous would be an understatement. She has undergone training as a maid, but this is her first real job. Her hope was to be married to some sweet farm boy before she needed to use these skills, but the death of her mother two years ago and her father last month has resulted in her current predicament. She is an orphan of no consequence with no one left to look after her and no marriage prospects. Thankfully, her aunt, a barmaid at the inn with some hidden connection to the family, secured this position for her at Graceland Manor. The letter she has clutched in her fist states she should report directly to the master himself. This is certainly unique as it is typically the housekeeper who would have hired her, but her aunt's connection is to Colonel Presley himself and not the staff. This is beyond unique, but she has learned not to question affairs of the heart when they happen to other people.

She lifts her trembling hand and raps her knuckles on the door. Nothing happens immediately, so she waits a few seconds and knocks again. Finally, the door swings open and a handsome young footman with sandy blonde hair and brown eyes greets her. He manages his initial shock when he realizes how pretty she is, her dark hair curled perfectly and blue eyes rimmed with feathery black lashes. His smile is genuine as he opens his mouth to speak.

"May I help you, miss?"

"I am Annabelle Martin. I'm here to see Colonel Presley about a position as a maid." His smile falls and he looks down at his feet, clearing his throat.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, miss." Her heart flutters with nervousness. She has nowhere else to go.

"I must, sir. Please."

"As much as I would love to take you to him, Colonel Presley died a week ago." She swallows hard.

"He... died?"

"Unfortunately so. A fever took him swiftly in less than a fortnight." Annabelle searches her mind for her next step. If this does not work out, she will be on the streets.

"May I see the housekeeper?"

"Mrs. Davenport?"

"Yes, I suppose. Please." He can read the desperation in her face.

"Alright then, come along." She follows as he opens the door wider and beckons her inside. He leads her to a small office and introduces her to Mrs. Davenport. Rather than trying to explain herself, Annabelle thrusts the letter forward for her to read. She watches as the older lady's eyes skim the words.

"Report directly to Colonel Presley himself?! Where did you get this?"

"My aunt delivered it. She said it was from Colonel Presley and that I should bring it and arrive on this date. Is it not in his handwriting?" Mrs. Davenport raises her eyebrows.

"It is." Annabelle breathes shakily as she watches the housekeeper try to come to a decision about what to do. "I will have to take you to the young master. I cannot make this decision when it is so clear what his father wanted, though for what reason I cannot understand. Come."

With that, Mrs. Davenport walks hastily out of the room through the kitchen and up the back stairs to the main level of the house. Annabelle does her best to keep her mouth closed as she takes in the overt splendor of the rooms. She's never been in a place like this with so much to see in every corner. She's so busy taking in the walls and furniture that she doesn't notice him at first. In fact, she hears him before she sees him, his smooth baritone echoing in the great hall.

"My father wanted what exactly?" When she does finally turn to look at him, her eyes widen. If she thought the home was stunning, it is nothing compared to the undeniable beauty of the man himself. His dark hair is windswept and falls perfectly on his forehead, just above eyes of the deepest cerulean. He has the bone structure of a Greek statue with thick brown lashes and heart-shaped lips that could be made of storm clouds. Eventually it dawns on her that he's speaking to her.

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"What was it my father wanted with you?" He says it slowly like he thinks she might have difficulty comprehending.

"To offer me a position as a housemaid. He told my aunt there was an opening-"

"There is not. Not one that I am aware of. Molly and Sarah are still here?" He turns to the housekeeper and she responds affirmatively. "We have no need of you."

He turns dismissively, but Annabelle has no other option. She must appeal to him somehow.

"Please! Sir, I am an orphan. I have nowhere else to go." Initially, her impertinence catches him off guard, but when she mentions that her parents are dead, he turns back to her abruptly. He's all too familiar with that feeling now, his mother having died 25 years ago giving birth to him. His eyes rake over her face, seemingly searching for something.

"Fine. We will have a third maid. Give her the kitchen maid's room, since Mrs. Hall insists she doesn't need one." With that, he turns and walks from the room.

Mrs. Davenport turns back to Annabelle and huffs. It's clear she doesn't approve of the decision, but she cannot contradict the Master, even if he doesn't seem to know what he's doing in his new position. She begins the journey back down to the servants' quarters with Annabelle close behind her. When they reach their destination in the kitchen downstairs, she turns to Annabelle with her lips pursed.

"I suppose you have experience as a maid. Where else have you worked?" Annabelle swallows hard.

"No, ma'am. This is to be my first job."

"No experience?! How old are you?!"

"I'm 18, ma'am."

"How is this possible?"

"My father was a farmer. I worked with him there until he died last month. But I have trained." Mrs. Davenport scoffs. Just then, a young girl in a maid uniform with red hair and freckles bounces into the room.

"Molly! Come here and meet Annabelle, the new maid. You will be responsible for teaching her the role." Molly nods and walks over to Annabelle. She looks to be about fifteen.

"You haven't worked before?" Her eyes widen and Annabelle sighs.

"No, I haven't. But I'm a good worker. I'll learn quickly." Mrs. Davenport's eyes narrow.

"You had better. Now, go with Molly and put your things away. She will get you a uniform and you can begin after lunch." Annabelle nods and follows Molly up to the sleeping quarters, pausing at a closet to fetch two uniforms.

"Did she say which room will be yours? Surely she doesn't expect you to share with us." Molly says nervously.

"No, Mr. Presley said I should have the kitchen maid's room."

"You will have your own room?! Hm. I wonder what you've done to earn that privilege." Annabelle shrugs. She didn't choose this. Molly continues down the hallway to a room at the end of the corridor.

"This is you. We're right next door. And that-" she gestures to the door at the end of the hall next to Annabelle's door. "-leads to the house. It's locked from their side, so they can enter our quarters but we cannot go to theirs. Now put your things away, get changed, and come back down." Molly turns to walk away.

"Thank you." Annabelle calls out to her back. Molly nods curtly and takes off down the hallway again.

Annabelle goes into her room and begins to get settled. She looks around at the barren white walls, the simple frame bed, and small wardrobe. A sob threatens to choke her as she remembers her cozy little house on the farm with so many books and warm fires and comfortable furniture. She was only able to bring what she could carry in a small package, which means she had to leave all the books behind. Her heart aches thinking about them and the fact that she'll have nothing to read here. Perhaps she could ask Mr. Presley if she could use the library.

Mr. Presley. She doubts that he will say yes to anything she has to say. He spoke to her as if she were a child and treated her like she was less than that. He didn't even ask her name. It's true he softened a bit when she mentioned being an orphan, but it's not enough to counteract his rudeness. Maybe she's just not used to interacting with members of his social class and this is what she should expect from now on. Either way, she has no intentions of interacting with him again, if she can help it.

Then, she remembers that she's supposed to be changing and hastily dresses in the uniform Molly gave her. It's a little big, so she'll have to do some alterations tonight after dinner, assuming she's allowed a candle in her room and a needle and thread. She looks around the room and sighs, checking her reflection in the small round glass by the chamber pot. Finally, she makes her way back down the stairs to begin.

******

Mr. Presley stands at the window in the study, looking out over the grounds. How did this happen? He was not supposed to take over the estate for at least another decade. By then he should've been married with children, ready for this kind of responsibility. But now? At 25? He is nowhere near prepared.

Thankfully, the army granted him a leave to take care of things, but he still has two more years to serve before his term is complete and he can sell his commission. He might've liked to rise in the ranks, like his father had, to become a Colonel before this, but now he has no choice but to come home and manage the estate.

And then there's the matter of getting married. A house like this needs a lady to keep everything running smoothly. Besides that, the prospect of living in all these rooms completely alone is a daunting one. Of course the servants are there, but it's not like when he was a child and the strict lines between them were blurred behind the walls of the home. He cannot rely on them for companionship.

For some reason, thinking of companionship brings to his mind the new maid. She is painfully pretty, with her soft white skin and full pink lips. And there is an elegance about her that transcends her station, almost like she was born to be a lady but circumstance had other plans. He hadn't intended to hire her, but the knowledge that she has nowhere else to go made it impossible for him not to. Oh well. Obviously, it's what his father wanted and the estate can afford it. He tries to recall if he asked her name, but if he did he doesn't remember it.

He's shaken from his reverie about the maid when the butler interrupts and announces his lawyer, Mr. Crawford, come to discuss more details of the estate. Mr. Presley sighs and turns from the window. Will the responsibility of this new life never end?

******

To be continued...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity

[the-lazyyy-artist]

Pairing: Yuuji Itadori x non-sorcerer!Reader (Fem reader) Themes: FLUFF!!, Aged Up!Yuuji (20 years old), flower talk (slightly because I didn't have enough research. JP fans pls don't come at me!), brief mentions of Nobara and Megumi, just a blurb Author's note: I realized that I really need to learn more of Japan's floriology because it's so interesting. I wanna know how flowers are arranged to convey a certain message. Also, Japanese Violets (Sumire) symbolizes Love and Sincerity!

By the age of 20, Yuuji Itadori considered himself a self-actualized person.

After the events in Shinjuku, he found the purpose of his being: to protect. May it be his friends, his mentors, or other people. If you ask Megumi, he'll say Yuji always stayed the same. He's still as selfless as the day he and Nobara met him. But for Yuji, it just solidified what he wanted out of his life, and being selfless makes him happy. To see people safe makes him happy.

Megumi would always nag Yuuji, telling him to stop being so selfless for a while and think about himself. "You don't have to go out of your way to protect me," Megumi would say with a sigh, "you saved me, and I am grateful for that, but what would make me happy is for you to go out there and find someone."

"Someone? I don't want to find someone, Megumi," Yuuji would say, shrugging, "if there's someone for me, then she'll just come. Simple as that. All I have to do is to wait."

But love, attraction, and admiration, they don't come easily to those who doesn't even bother to look. In Yuuji's case, it was somewhat of a rare occurrence in his life, given that he made himself happier by serving others.

Every Saturday, Yuuji would visit his grandfather's grave, buying flowers at a local flower shop before he went to the station. The little bell on the door rang as Yuuji opened the door and he was welcomed by the smell of different flowers. That's when you emerged from the back room.

You, with your hair pinned up beautifully. You, with a bandana over your head, strands of hair escaping due to your movements throughout the day. You, with green gloves over your hands. You, with a gentle smile gracing your lips as you greet him warmly.

Yuuji never had a moment where he stopped in his tracks, but now, he stopped. He stopped to admire you, his eyes wide, lips parted. For a moment, you raised your brows, looking back at him in confusion. "Hello?" You spoke again.

"Oh, uhm, hi," Yuuji replied, a slight tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks, "sorry about that. Are you new here?"

"Yeah," you answered plainly, taking a bit of caution about the awkwardness that enveloped you both. Yuuji nodded, then continued to check the prepared grave flower baskets on display on the flower shop's shelves. After picking one, he brought it to the counter, where you were waiting, and paid the exact amount. "Thank you," you said, "come again soon."

He knows it's been his routine for 4 years, traveling every weekend to Sendai to visit his grandfather and then back to Tokyo the same day, but seeing you every Saturday filled him with so much joy and warmth that he looks forward to it every week.

After two months of visiting the shop, sharing smiles, and small talk (hey, it's an upgrade from just staring at each other before you'd say your usual "come again soon"), Yuuji realized that maybe this was what Megumi was talking about. Sure, he can still be selfless when it comes to his job, but he felt more open to the world and the possibility that he could be happier than he is now that he's found you.

So, that one Saturday, he walked in, and you were already there, in your usual spot behind the counter. "Yuuji!" You chirped, smiling widely at him, "Right on schedule." Yuuji smiled sheepishly, and replied, "Yeah, can't be late."

He looked at the arranged flower baskets, which he always admired now because you once mentioned that you were in charge of preparing the flower baskets every day. Such skill and accuracy that each flower was in full view, not one being covered by the other. He picked one, the prettiest of them all in his opinion, and brought it to the counter, where you were waiting patiently.

"Any plans tomorrow?" Yuuji asked, as always. You shook your head, smiling, "Nope. I'll just stay home and rest. Are you asking for the sake of small talk, or do you have plans?" you teased as you prepared a small plastic bag for the flower basket. Yuuji only chuckled lightly, a blush dusting his cheeks. It has always amused you how easily Yuuji blushes. "Here you go," Yuuji said, placing the exact payment on the counter. You handed him the flowers as you punched the amount on the cash register and stored the payment in the drawer. "Well, be careful on your trip to Sendai," you told him, smiling, "it still amazes me that you're always so committed to visiting your grandpa despite living far from your hometown."

"Yeah, well, he's the family member that I can actually visit, even now that he's dead. I'll take you with me some time, so you can visit my hometown," he replied with a shrug, and now it was your turn to blush. "O-oh, okay, that would be nice, Yuuji," you replied, wide-eyed and flustered.

Yuuji smiled. "Before I leave, I have something for you." He opened his bag and carefully pulled out three violets, leaves and all. You laughed as you watched him hand it over to you. "It's for you. I really, really want to know you more," he said, his soft gaze making you melt. You took the flowers from him and smiled softly. "So, if you're free tomorrow, maybe we can go out and talk more. Small talk just won't do anymore," Yuuji continued, smiling sheepishly.

As you accepted his invite for a date tomorrow, you waved him goodbye as he left the store and watched him walk away through the large glass windows of the shop. The idea of planting these in separate pots made you smile as it would mean immortalizing the budding attraction you had for the boy.

[animatedjen]

What's some stuff you're really hoping to see in Jedi 3 (either narratively or gameplay wise)?

Oh I'm so glad you asked this 🙌 Because I have THOUGHTS.

Gonna put everything under the cut so this doesn't clog up the feed with a wall of text (whoops.) Some of these ideas I hope to create concept art for, after I replace/fix my very cranky thirteen-year-old tablet. Anyway let’s start with gameplay!

Gameplay!

Maintaining Cal's abilities: Survivor handled this beautifully by keeping many of the skills learned in Fallen Order, instead of undoing Cal's growth from the first game. I think it'll be trickier to keep this momentum into Jedi 3 (the skill tree has gotten so large!) but story reasons could push Cal towards new types of abilities instead of bloating the current options.

More synergy between the lightsaber stances: I like all the stances in Survivor and it'd be A) disappointing to lose any of them, but B) overwhelming to add MORE combat styles. Being able to flow between the stances more fluidly would be fun though, with specific combos unlocked depending on which two are active together. Now if Merrin lets Cal borrow her knife-staff and he puts his lightsaber on the end... MAGICK SABER PIKE GO.

New or adapted movement mechanics: Maybe the ascension cable is replaced with a force ability (Force Ascend or Force Leap for an extra vertical boost?) or is "upgraded" to connect between two anchors, letting Cal create his own temporary ziplines.

Replayable missions: This could be explained in-game with a Force Tear or Cal's own interactive echoes. But I'd love the option to experience story missions and boss fights again post-game.

Customization!

This is a bonus section because Merrin should get new outfits. Haven't decided how to make it part of gameplay yet, stay tuned.

Cal's cosmetics in Survivor are mostly cool, some just funny, but overall a huge improvement from Fallen Order (yes, even though we miss all the poncho designs). For Jedi 3 I'd love to see more story-centric cosmetics that tie into the communities and people Cal has met along his journey. A Legacy outfit (incorporating pieces from his three Jedi masters), an Anchorite-inspired outfit (with arm tattoos), a bounty hunter outfit (the prize after defeating the Brood), etc. Maybe a Bogling outfit? No not made from Boglings; it looks like a Bogling. Hang on lemme fix my tablet—

Narrative + Gameplay!

Explore Tanalorr: Right now this sparkly, strong-in-the-Force, temple-carved planet is a huge mystery box for Jedi 3. There's a few directions it could go - more High Republic history, another civilization (the Nihil? someone new?) lurking in the shadows, or Force-related secrets hiding below the surface. Each Jedi game has followed Cal's exploration of an ancient culture, and I think Tanalorr can be a focal point in that journey.

Defeat Sorc Tormo and the Haxion Brood: I mentioned this in an ask earlier this week, but I so want a resolution to this fight against the Brood. Especially since roaming bounty hunters would threaten the Hidden Path. Maybe Cal breaks back into Ordo Eris, or hunts down Sorc Tormo on another planet. Maybe there's a Force-only stealth section?? Maybe a big multi-wave boss fight? Maybe Caij is there??? (no she doesn't get an invite to Tanalorr)

Dark Side Force Slow: The fact that Cal's Force Slow ability kept its red-stained aura, even in the Survivor post-game, is great. I love lasting consequences and ludonarrative harmony, yes yes yes. Really hope this isn't fully resolved by the start of Jedi 3 (potential timeskip makes it tricky but whatever) and the ability receives some sort of healing through Cal finding his way out of the darkness.

Narrative!

Timeskip?: I vote no, but I think Jedi 3 will vote yes, likely to age up Kata and allow Tanalorr to be more developed. But that also means Cal and the Mantis Crew goes through character development without us (boo) or remains emotionally stunted until we get there (also boo?). I'm more comfortable with the five year gap between FO and Survivor than I used to be though, despite "missing out" on big character moments, so maybe it'll be okay. Maybe. 👀

The Hidden Path builds a home on Tanalorr: This works until it doesn't, whether from outside pressure or the threat of a spy within. I don't think Bode's fears should necessarily be validated, but I do think the risk will keep Cal on edge and hurt his ability to trust (both others and himself.) It'll drive decisions that strain his relationships and be a source of conflict for part of the game.

The Mantis gets semi-retired and then reinstated: I just love the mental picture of the Mantis parked somewhere cozy and decorated with cloth and lights and a hideout for Kata. It's become too small and high profile to use for gathering the Path, but when the plot gets going, they're gonna need her back in action.

Three main antagonists: The Empire, an unrelated third-party with their own goals (Nihil or someone else), and Cal's own demons. The first two drive the external conflict, the third drives Cal's inner conflict and the story's themes. More on that at the end.

A memorial garden: It's designed by Pili and filled with native Tanalorrian plants and trees, from which the Anchorites hang cords and windchimes and bits of colored glass. Cere's saber was buried beneath the largest tree. Cal plays her hallikset here when he's too troubled to meditate. If we want to be mean, this place gets damaged during a battle in Act 3. If we want to be less mean, this is the place that doesn't get damaged during a battle.

Kata has some sort of student-teacher relationship with Cal: I'm torn on her being Force sensitive: this is a story about Jedi and "guide her through the darkness" is pretty telling given Cal's own darkness at the end of Survivor. But Cal helping Kata (and Kata helping Cal) can happen regardless of her Force sensitivity - it would just look different. This is a soft answer because I'm still exploring ideas around it BUT admittedly the angst levels would be higher if she is sensitive.

A battle against the shadow self: Look this one is cliche. I don't care. I want a huge cavern in the depths of Tanalorr where Cal gets to fight a dark version of himself that switches between all his former enemies. If we're making a video game here let's physically beat up our darkness. Let's have it not work. Let's bring Cal to rock bottom to remind him that he is more than his darkness and he doesn't have to do this alone. Let's go back to that same fight later and then we finally win.

There's more to explore story-wise and I will eventually, but I'm overall not concerned about Jedi 3's narrative. Respawn has been very intentional with their writing of Cal Kestis and the Jedi series so far (despite some last minute changes to Survivor) and I love this character and this story because of all the great work they've created. I really hope they finish this journey the way they want to. That being said—

How should Jedi 3 end? Should Cal die?

No: I'll argue Cal dying at the end of the trilogy completely undermines the entire lesson of Survivor.

Cal wouldn't stop fighting the Empire: The Cal we meet at the beginning of Survivor definitely wouldn't. That Cal also watched countless friends die to that same fight and saw two different Jedi fall to their passions-turned-obsessions that led them to the dark side. He may wrestle with remnant obligation or a bitter apathy, but he's definitely not as single-minded as he was before.

Cal would sacrifice himself to save the Path: Yeah, he probably would. Cere did exactly that during the Siege of Jedha when all else failed. But maybe the Path could be protected without Cal needing to be a Weapon - a lesson Cere also wanted him to learn.

Another way: I think the Koboh abyss (that separates Tanalorr from the rest of the galaxy) could be destroyed. I don't know if Cal would choose to destroy it, but I think the Empire would: if they can't reach Tanalorr it's the next best thing.

Now Cal has to make a choice: Leave (continuing the fight alone) or Stay (shepherding the Path for an unknown future.) It doesn't mean they never find a way back to the known galaxy, but it'll take time. Enough time for a New Hope to appear.

Whatever your opinion of the Sequel Trilogy, the line: "That’s how we’re gonna win. Not fighting what we hate. Saving what we love." is not only a complete thesis of Star Wars, but fits really well with Cal's journey. He's become very good at fighting. He wants to save everyone in Fallen Order, and he can't. He still wants to save everyone in Survivor, and they refuse him. His Fight has made a difference (again, Cere says as much) but it's clear this can't be Cal's final answer.

Choosing to protect the Path, choosing to trust the Force, choosing a home. That's what he's been fighting for. I love Cal Kestis because he isn't the chosen one and he isn't going to save the galaxy. But for his family and his community, he saved their galaxy. It's cheesy but I don't care, and you know Greez and BD would agree with me.

-

Okay this got so, so much longer than I expected. Bonus points if you made it all the way down here haha. I've had a weird assortment of concepts and ideas over the past year but never wrote them down in one place - until now. I've said it before but part of my hyperfixation with the Jedi series is because it isn't finished yet and Survivor ends on such a gut-wrenching cliffhanger. Whatever happens to this series, I'm slowly finding some sort of catharsis through all the edits and photomode shots and half-baked concepts. Thanks for tagging along ✌️

[heartybubs]

jealousy jealousy

the 100 [ john murphy x reader ]

type: ig angst but it’s not well written enough to ‘hit’

tropes: jealousy, roommates, unspoken but accepted love, best friends to lovers

warnings: violence ( knife fight ), mentions of murder

in which wells jaha is getting help by the only person willing to be around him, who just so happens to john murphy’s unofficial girlfriend, who then has to deal with his idiotic jealousy.

a/n: hii, i’m back! this is based on a request i really really liked but i’m not happy with what i actually wrote so i hope it’s okay to read. i kinda ignored how much of a psychopath murphy was in the first season cause i really couldn’t have justified his actions otherwise and the whole jealousy part wouldn’t have been entertaining AT ALL. so yea, i was struggling a bit ( whilst also blatantly ignoring the timeline, ignore anything that doesn’t match the canon timeline of s1 pls ), but at least i tried right🫣 no pronouns

w.c.: 2040

yours and murphy's relationship was a rather unclear, but at the same time simple one. you weren't officially dating, but during your time on the ark, when you were locked up in your shared cell, where you also met, you definitely did some inappropriate stuff; stuff that friends don't do.

your cell was also the place where the two of you bonded, becoming really really close rather quickly. although he was a very aggressive and irritating person to be around at first, you got used to it and soon he became your favourite person to be around.

now, after months of being roommates and part time lovers, you were finally on the ground, something you'd dreamed of since you first learned about it and therefore were keen on securing your survival. murphy on the other hand, got so bad that even you couldn't deny the fact he was a total asshole and if you didn't know he would never hurt you, you'd be way too scared to share a tent with him, especially alone.

you didn't actively distance yourself but after watching him bully wells, the chancellor's son, countless times for his father's actions, you kind of naturally looked for ways to make some new friends. and as if the universe hated john murphy, you seemed to work really well with wells.

everytime murphy saw you talk or walk around with wells, which honestly happened quite a lot, it fueled his hatred against home even more and made him want to stay away from you too.

you didn't mind not being associated with the provocative behaviour of john murphy and the way he tyrannized the other delinquents, however, it was a very different story when it came to going to bed and waiting for him until you physically couldn't keep your eyes open any longer, leading to you and him barely ever meeting and getting a chance to talk, despite sharing a tent.

yes, murphy was an asshole, that was totally not up for debate, BUT he was also the cell mate you had for the past few months; one who you loved deeply.

you were sitting by the dropship, wells next to you, watching your hands closely.

"see, it's really important that you wrap everything tightly, like super tight, since you don't want your arrow to fall apart in the air, alright?", you explained and made sure he understood. you were teaching him how to make an arrow from scratch and although you weren't an earth skills expert, you definitely knew more than wells, who didn't get the chance to attend earth skills class back on the ark. and you could probably count the people who at least tolerated wells on one hand, you included.

"okay and, sorry", he paused, scrunching his nose and forehead as he stared at the arrow-to-be in front of him, "how do i make sure the tip is sharp and everything? i just don't get it, sorry. i don't wanna waste your time y/n.”

you smiled, appreciating his consideration, but clearly declining his indirect offer for you to do something else. there wasn't anything else for you to do and he also wasn't wasting your time, he was just learning and you really liked teaching him; it helped you understand better as well.

"wells, c'mon. i'm choosing to be here, you didn't force me and i don't think it would be okay to produce less arrows, that literally get us food, just cause i'm bored of you", you said, smiling at him, "not.. not that i am bored of you, but you know what i mean!"

he grinned before nodding. honestly, there wasn't anything wrong with wells at all and you truly didn't understand how your fellow delinquents could treat him they way they did. especially murphy.

speaking of the devil, murphy was brutally staring at you and oh boy was he jealous.

he didn’t want to approach you, as he was lowkey trying to avoid starting anything right in front of you, let alone with you. he wasn’t blind and therefore noticed how much more distant you and him were ever since arriving on earth so he was trying to avoid any additional conflicts between you.

when you looked up, your eyes meeting his for a quick moment, leading to you sending a small smile his way, he almost forgot about all his anger and jealousy towards wells. that was until you looked back at the boy in front of you and started smiling hard at the almost perfect arrow he had just put together.

murphy was gonna make wells pay, hard. he just had to catch him away from you, something that was way harder to arrange than he’d like it to be.

“don’t you see you can’t control this?!”, wells voice echoed through the woods as you nervously made your way back. you were wandering around outside of camp, always keeping close to the dropship as you knew you could get los easily. the initial reason you decided to turn around was the cheering delinquents and something inside of you just had you thinking that murphy must have had something to do with it.

“wait”, you heard bellamy yell, making the noise die down for a moment. it calmed your nerves as you were standing at the back of the group, trying to be as tall as possible to see what was going on. “fair fight”, bellamy said before you could hear something metallic fall to the ground.

anxiety increasing again, you tried to push yourself through the delinquents that were proudly chanting for murder meanwhile you had to pray for a miracle; one that ensured that murphy wasn’t part of this.

“this is for my father”, you could make out murphy’s voice fairly quickly right as you were able to watch him attack wells with a knife. a gasp escaped your throat when wells defended himself with ease, pushing murphy to the ground and holding a knife to his throat.

“stop it! are you insane?!”, your feet were moving before you could think about your actions, bringing you right where wells and murphy were standing.

wells dropped his hand. murphy looked at you with fear and regret. he didn’t regret attacking wells, but he didn’t want you to see him like this. however, one had to admit that he hadn’t been trying very hard.

“y/n..”

“no, shut up john. i am so beyond done with your shit. yours too!”, you pointed a finger at bellamy who just rolled his eyes at your tone.

“if this is who you want to be, fine. go ahead and be a dickhead, john. you disgust me”, you mumbled angry words right into his face before storming off.

despite it being really challenging, you decided to ignore murphy for now. you couldn’t believe that he would do something as reckless as getting into a knife fight with wells! of course wells wasn’t innocent either, but it was clear who the aggressor must have been, even without having been there the entire time.

it was kind of embarrassing that you couldn’t even deny the high possible of john murphy, the boy you had lowkey caught feelings for, murdering an innocent boy for fun.

truly messed up, making murphy more and more deserving of the silent treatment you were giving him. at first he had stayed away from you until you didn’t even come to the tent at night, secretly having had asked a girl named harper to stay in hers.

so when you kept ignoring murphy the day after the incident, it angered him so much that he immediately stormed into your tent when he watched you enter it from afar.

“what the fuck y/n”, he said, his voice laced with irritation as he stared at you. his blue eyes piercing yours.

despite being intimidated, you stayed stubborn and didn’t give him any attention. he hadn’t deserved it yet.

“oh i see, you’re ignoring me? are you being serious? for what, scaring the chancellor’s son a bit? you know damn well i wouldn’t have done anything”, he said, rolling his eyes and waited for a reaction. this time you looked at him critically before ignoring him again.

“wait, you do know that, right?”, murphy’s voice softened a bit. he moved so that he could observe not only your body language, but also your eyes. this made you lower your gaze.

soon after, you felt two hands touching your skin. they were cold but the touch was warm, hot even. murphy moved your face so that you were looking at him and he immediately noticed your worried expression. he instantly understood that you actually didn’t know that he wasn’t a cold hearted killer.

“y/n, i wouldn’t have killed him, i swear. yes, i harmed him and i did that on purpose, i’ll be fully honest here, but i was just angry at him”, he explained himself calmly now.

you removed his hands from your face before getting up from the bed you had previously sat on. “what do you mean angry, john? what did wells do to you? you’ve been treating him like absolute shit, are you kidding me, i don’t get it”, you said. you wanted to yell at him but you also tried to hold onto the tiniest bit of privacy you had behind the ‘walls’ of your tent.

murphy slightly rolled his eyes and shook his head, then sat down on the bed and took off his shoes.

he is trying to escape the conversation!

it annoyed you that he had the audacity to ignore your question after everything he had done up until this point.

“what is WRONG with you, john. talk to me already!”, this time, he basically had you begging. again, unbelievable.

he tried to let as much time pass as possible before linking his hands, putting his arms behind his head and looking up. he sighed and licked his lips, trying to find the right words. “i was.. kinda jealous.”

you couldn’t help but stare at him and ultimately break out in laughter. this was absolutely pathetic.

“you were gonna kill someone out of jealousy? are you INSANE MURPHY?!”, you didn’t even try to keep your voice down, he deserved this.

“y/n, i know that it was wrong alright. but i already told you that i wouldn’t have killed him”, murphy was annoyed and you could clearly hear it in his voice. he however, could clearly see that you weren’t just going to let him disrespect you like that. he sighed again.

“do you want me to apologize?”, he asked quietly, his voice barely louder than a whisper. murphy moved his head so that he could look at you and when a slight grin appeared on your face, he let himself fall back into the sleeping bag.

of course you’d want him to apologize.

“yea, to wells”, you said, ruining his mood entirely.

“WHAT?! you gotta be insane. do you know how embarass”, your expression made him halt in the middle of the sentence, the stubbornness you radiated even caused him to groan. “okay.” you truly had him wrapped around your finger.

“good, john”, you said and walked over to him. “y’know what, this is an amazing sign for you to be better in general because from what i’ve noticed, you’ve been pure hell for most people in this camp”, you admitted, knowing he wouldn’t be mad at you for your honesty.

this, once again, caused murphy to roll his eyes at you. he shook his head slightly, not wanting to talk about his own behaviour anymore, he held one arm out to you, inviting you into the bed with him.

you hesitated for a short second, but quickly got down next to him.

“ugh come here”, murphy said and pulled you into his side.

sharing a bed or cuddling wasn’t a new thing to you two, but it made your heart jump, in a very very good way, everytime it happened.

you repositioned your head until you found a position comfortable enough to stay in and took a long breathe in.

after a moment of silence you began giggling.

“so, jealous huh?”

[ghostandsoap]

Sweets and Suckers

John Price x Fem! “Peach” Reader

Tags: None.

A/N: I decided to write this series of fics in third person. I was afraid that this reader is too specific to be in second person...although this still is *technically* an insert reader fic. Feedback is always greatly appreciated. I would love to know your thoughts on this new “series.” I’ll be writing a whole separate fic for their first time meeting so keep an eye out! This is a tester fic. Just to introduce our reader and test the waters. Also, I have no idea if it’s canon to whether or not Ghost smokes. I have a headcanon that he smokes when he’s stressed. 

Word Count: 2.7k

“Know why? ‘Cause I have this little thing called patience.”

She wasn’t like anyone else that he had ever known.

She was the toughest, yet sweetest woman he had ever met. One minute she could be cursing out and beating the shit out of a blood thirsty, heartless terrorist…and the next she could be babying and gushing over Sergeant MacTavish because he got a papercut on his finger.

She had a way with words, but also a way with her fists. She could talk or fight her way out of anything, and Price had witnessed it himself on numerous occasions. She was fierce. She was a blaze of fire everywhere she went, tough as nails and overly aware of the darkness of the world around her.

And yet after all the evil that she had seen, she had a heart that was still as pure and bright as ever.

And he never expected to fall in love with her.

He was skeptical of her at first. Kate Laswell’s description of her didn’t make the most impressive image. 

Laswell’s descriptions painted a certain picture in Captain Price’s mind. A sweet, innocent female who didn’t know the reality of this job and this world. A soldier that had too much hope for humanity and too much zest for life that blinded her to what was true.

And when he learned what her call sign was, he nearly laughed in Laswell’s face.

“Peach?” Price scoffed, a little off put by such a girlish call sign. “Why do they call her that?”

Kate only smiled knowing that Price was already underestimating her without ever seeing her face or seeing her in action.

“She has thick skin and is sweet as can be…” Kate grinned. “Not to mention, she’s a true southern lady.”

Price fought the urge to roll his eyes, but he didn’t try to swallow down the dread that was bellowing up in his throat. 

Great. An American.

It took Price some time to change his mind. Even after meeting her for the first time, he wasn’t so sure that she was the right kind of person for his team. If he was going to work with her, he needed her to be disciplined. He couldn’t afford another soldier that was unpredictable in nature. He needed someone he could trust, someone who he could depend on no matter what.

And much to Price’s surprise, he wasn’t totally discouraged when he first met her. 

She didn’t look intimidating for the most part. She didn’t have the tall, broad stature like Simon Riley or the hard, cold stare like John MacTavish. She had a gentle look, a face that was lit up with a smile when the two of them locked eyes. On the surface, she didn’t look like the strict type…but there was something about her that Price could tell had a rough side to it.

She was easy on the eyes…very easy on the eyes. Price noticed that he had a hard time looking away from her. 

“Captain Price,” She greeted, and her southern drawl made his chest feel fuzzy. “I’m Sergeant [L/N]. But everybody calls me Peach.”

So I’ve heard. 

“Sergeant,” Price extended his hand, the warmth of her grip tingling up his arm. “Pleasure to meet you.”

And from there, the rest was history. 

Each and every day he saw more and more of her personality, and every day he found himself realizing how quick he had been to judge. He saw her sweet side and sour side. He saw how she adapted to every situation appropriately. She was intelligent, skilled, and always looking out for the people around her.

If anything, that was the thing that surprised him the most. She was selfless and would do anything for the people that she worked and spent the majority of her time with. She was everything he could’ve asked for when it came to working with someone.

Suddenly he was thinking about her when she wasn’t around. He wanted to talk to her about things that were more personal. His admiration turned into a romantic one, and he found himself wishing for a relationship that extended past professional.

The small talk turned into meaningful conversations. The passing glances turned into longing stares. The “accidental” touches turned into intentional ones. Before he knew it, he had grown to care for her. And before she knew it, she had grown to care for him.

That loud-mouthed, southern charm woman that had been thrown into his life was suddenly part of it so much more than he originally bargained for…but not that he was complaining. 

His team loved her, and she worked with them well. They were protective over her the same way she was protective over them. She took care of them when they needed it, but sometimes her bedside manner came off a little aggressive.

“Quit movin’ so much,” She growled, tightening her grip on the man’s leg. “I’m gonna beat your ass if you do that again.” 

“Wasn’t on purpose,” Ghost grumbled. “All of this because I was just trying to have a cigarette.” 

“And that’s another thing!” She howled. “You’ve gotta chill with the cigarettes. Since when do you smoke this much?” 

She was the best medic of the team. She had been trained by the best, and she was a natural caretaker. She was always quick to jump in when someone was hurt or sick. She never hesitated to fix someone up who (in her words) “needed fixin’”. 

When it was something unavoidable or something that was a purely freak accident, she was like an angel nurse. A sweet, comforting tone and gentle mannerisms that could soothe even the most panicked patient. But when it was something more…stupid, she tended to be a little more irritable.

Simon Riley wasn’t usually the one to end up on the wrong side of her temper. It was almost always Soap or Gaz who came waddling in with some sort of self-inflicted injury that was from horsing around or “just to see what would happen.” 

Ghost was much more careful. The only times he ever needed her help was when it was something really serious.

So when he came in hobbling on one foot and with a look of embarrassment in his eyes, she knew his streak had been broken. Now she was in a makeshift infirmary in a base in the middle of nowhere, trying to keep him still long enough just to get a good look at his giant’s foot.

“I only do it when I’m uptight,” Ghost muttered, feeling like he was being scolded as if he were a child. “I went outside for a smoke and my fucking ankle just gave out on me.”

Suddenly, her expression changed. A rush of empathy flooded her heart and her eyes morphed into a sensitive look. Ghost knew that she was only being so hard on him because she cared. She worried about his respiratory health due to the cigarettes. She worried about his mental state because he was feeling overwhelmed. Ghost appreciated her concern, but it just seemed like she worried more about others than herself. 

“Awh, Simon…” She sighed. “It has been a hard past few weeks.” 

“You can say that again,” He adjusted his skull mask on his face, to avoid yelping in pain at how she was touching the hurt part of his foot. “Although, I can’t blame that on me busting up my ankle for no reason.” 

“Well, the terrain’s not so level here,” She returned, holding his foot steady in her hands. “Somethin’ probably just snagged your foot when you were walkin’ by.” 

A few minutes of silence passed as she finished looking him over. Ghost strained and fought to keep himself from making any noises of discomfort. He hated being held back like this, and it didn’t help when Captain Price decided to stop by.

“What’s he in for?” Price leaned against the doorway, a grin of amusement on his face. 

She didn’t even have to look at him to know that he had a smirk on his face. She could feel his demeanor from where she sat with her back towards him. She was always happy to see him, but right now she had Ghost to finish tending to.

“Ankle,” She replied, releasing his foot from her hands. “Just twisted it.”

“Do you think he’ll make it?” Price snickered.

She couldn’t help but laugh, but she knew Ghost was feeling lousy, so she didn’t entertain any of Price’s jokes.

“Well, I don’t think it’s broken. I’ll stabilize it and I want you to try to keep weight off of it. Ibuprofen should help with the pain, and I think I’ve got some packs for the swelling.” She said to Ghost, who was just ready to go.

She was true to her word, working carefully and gently to make a splint for his foot, something to keep him from hurting it more. Price enjoyed watching her work. She was so focused and so serious about making sure he was getting the best care possible. 

“I appreciate it, Peach. I guess this is my sign to stop smoking, huh?’ Ghost chuckled, his smooth voice sounding a little bit more lively than usual. 

“Damn right it is,” She replied. “But for now, just worry about this foot healin’ up.”

She helped the monstrously tall man to his feet…or foot, rather – and made sure that he could manage to shift his weight to the other foot. He towered over her, as he did most people, but he was leaning on her like she was her lifeline. Once he was balanced, he was good to go.

“If you need anything, you let me know, okay?” She smiled, that sweet voice sounding out. She reached into her medic bag and retrieved a comfort charm of sorts. “Here’s a little treat for your troubles.”

Ghost’s eyes sparkled at the sight of the small, light pink lollipop, his fingers greedily peeling off the wrapper. 

“Oh, now I know why Johnny’s getting himself banged up all the time,” Ghost raised the lower part of his mask to put the candy in his mouth. “Thanks again, Doc.” He muffled through sucking on the lollipop.

Ghost limped out of the room, but he was moving better than he was when he walked in. Price watched as Ghost made it out of his sight before he turned back to her. Knowing that her attention was free, he spoke again. 

“He’s a grown man, Peaches.” He chuckled. “You’re softening up my men.”

She spun around in her chair, that radiant smile taking his breath away as it always did.

“I’m surely not!” She squeaked. “I’m always takin’ care of you, aren’t I?” 

“Of course. But I don’t ever get sweets.” He claimed, and her brows furrowed. 

“You mean suckers?” She corrected.

“Sweets.” He argued, but in the most playful way.

“Suckers.” She bantered.

This happened all the time. They had very different dialects and very different ways of saying things. She even argued with other Americans about certain words and phrases she used. A southern U.S. accent really is one of a kind, and Price never let her get away with it.

“Alright, well, I never get suckers.” He mocked her accent on the word in question, and she gasped.

“John!” She hissed, but couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face to save her life. “And the reason I don’t give you sweets is because you steal them out of my bag when I’m not looking.”

Now it was his turn to be offended, but only because he had no idea that she had caught on.

“I am appalled at such an accusation,” He clutched his hand to his chest. “How dare you accuse me of being a thief.”

She stood from her seat, reaching for his hand to pull him into the room. His cheeks flushed pink at her gesture, because he knew that it had been a little while since they had a moment alone together. It was hard to get even a few minutes alone when there was so much to be done and so many people around.

“Mm. ‘Cause you only take certain ones, and I know when they go missing.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, which caused the heat in his cheeks to spread to his ears. 

“And which ones are those?” He grinned again, knowing exactly what she was talking about.

She rolled her eyes at him, because she had walked right into this one. 

“The cherry and peach ones.” She sighed, shaking her head at his antics.

He was entertained. She knew him like the back of her hand at this point, the same way that he knew her. He loved nothing more than seeing her figure out something about him without him even telling her. 

Honestly, he wasn’t shocked that she had figured out that he was the one stealing her “suckers.” Although, it would’ve been really easy to frame Soap for their disappearance. 

“Oh? And I wonder why that is…” He continued.

“Cherry is your favorite, and peach reminds you of me.” She laughed under her breath, and hearing her say it brought so much pride to his soul.

“Ah, of course,” He ran his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “Such a smart girl…”

She couldn’t help but look away. If there was anyone who could make her shy, it was John Price. He kissed her then, her grin and giggle vibrating on his lips. They had missed one another, even though they hadn’t gone a day without seeing one another. 

“How are things today?” She asked, changing the subject. 

“The same as yesterday. And the day before…and the day before,” He answered. “I’m tired of sitting around.”

“I know. Me too,” She kissed him again, and his hands squeezed her hips. “Just a couple more days. Then we’ll be up and movin’ along.” 

He grumbled. Price was never one to enjoy the waiting game. He could only play so many rounds of poker with Gaz or tell so many stories with Soap before the boredom started chewing away at him. But that was the reality of some missions: just waiting until the right time to put the plan into action. 

“You make it sound so easy.” He chuckled.

“Know why? ‘Cause I have this little thing called patience.” She grinned.

“You also treat my men like princesses,” He countered. “Next thing you know, you’ll be painting their nails and Soap’s going to walk out in a dress.”

“Please. Soap would do that for five dollars,” She scoffed. “This is why I don’t give you any of my suckers.”

“Oh, that’s cruel, Peachy.” He groaned. “If you give me one, I promise not to make fun of the word ‘sucker’ and I won’t say anything about you turning my team into your squad of girlfriends.” 

“Fine. Deal,” She stepped out of his hold to reach for her bag. “Cherry?”

“Duh.” He sassed, and she rolled her eyes. 

She rummaged through her bag to find a cherry lollipop, but she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to mess with him.

“I think I’m out of cherry ones, honey bun.” She told him, and his jaw dropped open.

“That’s impossible. There were three in there this morning.” He gawked.

“How do you know how many there were if you haven’t been takin’ them out of my bag?” She questioned, not even hiding the victorious expression on her features.

“Uhm…” He paused. “I guessed?” 

“Bullshit!” She snatched a cherry pop out of her bag as if it were damning evidence. “You have been stealing ‘em!”

“I think that stealing is a mighty strong word,” He said. “Think of it more as…helping myself. Besides, I always make it up to you, don’t I?”

She held the stick towards him, and he didn’t hesitate to take it.

“I suppose so,” She watched as he removed the wrapper and popped it into his mouth. “What’s gonna happen if Soap comes in here and I’m out of suckers?”

Price chuckled as he swirled the candy in his mouth.

“He’ll live. It might do him some good.” Price reached for her waist again, pulling her back into his chest. 

“You know, I can just keep a stash just for you. All the cherry ones.” She suggested. 

“You’d do that for me?” His eyes lit up, removing the sucker from his mouth. “Cherry and peach ones?”

She snuck a kiss then, a very cherry tasting one that danced over her lips.

“Sure. And the peach ones.”

[cupidjyu]

red flavor

eric x reader (submission for the cutest tbz summer event💕)

summary: your planned summer getaway doesn’t go as expected and it’s only you and eric, your childhood best friend. but, new feelings may just join you on your little vacation

genre: summer time!! beach house, childhood friends to lovers (my absolute fav btw), fluff, eric pining for years, getting together, cute little memories, feelings realization, juyeons just there for a second, slow dancing, slight hurt/comfort, eric's love language is fixing your hair, author is a big red velvet fan if you couldn't tell, love confession notes: this is more of a character/relationship study so if youre expecting a super simple oneshot with lesser description then im sorry🥲 songs mentioned are from this specific summer album LOL word count: 7.8k

Sometimes, you just liked to observe. A lot of people did anyway for various reasons. Some people, like your friend Juyeon, observed for the sake of reading others’ needs and emotions. He was always the one to notice when you were upset and he would hurry to make horrible puns just to make you laugh. 

Other people, like Eric who’s been your best friend since the age when you two couldn’t even reach the kitchen counter, observed for the sake of learning who a person was as a whole. He was the one who took note of your tendency to shift energies and he would adjust his own to match yours.

You, on the other hand, liked to observe simply because what you saw brought you back to the past. You treasured good memories, so being able to see them again in the future brought a sense of joy to your heart like a flickering lightbulb.

In Eric’s room, there was a lot to observe that brought back the past. The broken science project of the solar system because you two were dancing too much late at night, the cut-out superhero mask that was supposed to be Eric’s last-minute Halloween costume in middle school, and the foolish paper heart that sparked it all in the first place.

Sitting on his bed, you then observed your two closest friends. Juyeon was on his phone whilst drinking from a water bottle—which he comically once tripped on that led to his lunch tray and its contents flying into your clothes. But that was how you became friends anyway. Eric was simply doodling in his sketchbook with a small, content smile. Just like he had done on that same paper heart in elementary school.

You felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you were met with a boy, about your age with a backpack on that was much too big for him. He had a kind smile and bright eyes.

And then he shoved a red, paper heart in your hands. Though, it took you a second to realize if it even was one with the edges so raggedly cut.

Bringing it up to your face, you read the large, shaky letters with your newly obtained skill of reading words.

“Will you marry me?”

Young Eric simply had bad comprehension skills. Apparently, he wasn't proposing. He just wanted to become friends.

“How does ‘marry me’ and ‘be my friend’ sound at all similar?” You muttered to yourself. 

Eric looked up and groaned. “You’re still on that? I was a baby back then. A cute one at that.” 

“An annoying one at that.”

Eric was about to argue back but Juyeon had spoken up with his lovely and calm voice.

“Let’s not fight. We have a trip to look forward to.”

The two of you immediately brightened at his reminder—the Summer Getaway. The three of you called it that because you all sucked at coming up with a better name. It was the trip that you had been planning since the first year of high school. The beach house to rent, the seaside to visit, everything already was laid out. And after so many years of fumbling with life and its many obstacles, it was finally happening.

“Tomorrow!” Eric sat up. “You’re all going to witness my dreamy beach boy actor debut.”

Juyeon looked at him, unimpressed. “And who’s the love interest?”

You snorted, turning your gaze over to Eric, only for him to be looking straight at you. Widening your eyes, you stuttered in confusion.

“No one,” He curtly said, turning away suddenly, his ears slightly red.

It was awkwardly silent. Until Juyeon nervously laughed. “What about clothes? Summer outfits?” He rambled. “We have to take a lot of pictures.”

You nodded, smiling excitedly. “I bought some just for this trip actually.” You frowned. “My paycheck practically disappeared.”

Juyeon laughed. “Was it as expensive as your prom outfit?”

Again, memories rushed back to you. More negative this time. With a frustrated sigh, you grimaced. “Let’s not bring that up. It was so bad, I looked horrible.”

Juyeon shook his head sympathetically. But your ears picked up someone else’s voice.

“I think you looked beautiful,” You heard Eric whisper. But maybe you were imagining things. 

“Too bad my date dumped me the day after,” You continued.

“He was horrible for that,” Juyeon remarked.

“That’s why you should’ve taken me,” Eric piped up. He got up to sit next to you on the bed. And to your surprise, his hand gently came up to your hair to smooth it down. But of course, that's what friends did.

You nodded in agreement. “I should have. You looked handsome that day.”

Eric glanced at you briefly and you could catch the sight of his cheeks turning red. “Of course I did,” He stammered. 

“Then why didn’t you ask anyone out for prom?” You questioned. “You went all alone.”

“Because you—“ Eric sighed, hurt flitting across his expression. “Nevermind.”

Juyeon coughed anxiously. “So!” He blurted. “The trip! Let’s talk about the trip tomorrow.”

—

“Where’s Juyeon?” Eric called out when he noticed you approaching the car. Yes, you prepared so much for the trip that you even had the car inspected and tested the driver—Eric—to make sure he could properly drive without swerving from talking too much. He did talk a lot.

You shrugged, lugging your bag packed with all the things you needed.

“He’s not here yet?” You frowned.

Eric shook his head with a worried look. “Usually he’s the early one.”

You hummed, standing next to him. And then you looked him over. He had dressed differently, his hair swept up nicely and his skin glowed golden in the sun. You wouldn't admit it but he did give off “dreamy beach boy” as corny as it may have sounded.

After a few minutes, you were about to call Juyeon to make sure he didn’t oversleep until you heard footsteps approaching. Looking up, you breathed out a sigh of relief.

“What took you so long?” You complained.

Juyeon furrowed his eyebrows and that was when you realized that he did not have a single piece of luggage with him. 

“I can’t go,” He breathlessly responded.

Eric inhaled sharply. “What?”

“There’s been an emergency,” Juyeon whined. “Involving my cat.”

You pouted knowing very well that Juyeon absolutely adored his cat and would drop anything for the feline, including this trip that you’d all been planning years ago.

“But go without me,” Juyeon rushed to say. “I don’t want to hold you both back.”

The two of you silently stared at him, disappointment and guilt holding grim over your faces. 

“Please.” His eyes softened. “Just make sure to send pictures.”

—

The car ride that was initially meant to be a karaoke session, turned into a quiet silence. It wasn’t awkward, no, it was never awkward between you and Eric. But it was solemn.

“He did say he’d be fine,” Eric spoke, flipping the right turn signal.

You sighed. “But you know him. He always likes to hide his disappointment.”

Eric shook his head. “He would be more disappointed if he knew we weren’t having fun.”

You thought for a moment. And then you nodded because it was true. You often observed that Juyeon would smile whenever you or Eric would smile first. He was like an older brother to you.

“Okay. Then I’m choosing the first song.” A devilish smile appeared on your lips as you queued up the music.

“Go ahead,” Eric laughed.

When you pressed play, he gasped. He glanced at you with acknowledgment accompanied by a slight wince. “Is this…”

“Mhm,” You giggled. “The song we sang together when we got drunk for the first time?”

“The headache I had after,” Eric groaned. “Never again.” You smiled at the fond memory. 

“And you’re such a clingy drunk.”

“I was not.”

“You literally hugged me and kissed my cheek,” You deadpanned. “You even said—“

Eric had his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a warm back hug, so tight that you could feel his hips and chest pressed up against your back. He smelled faintly of cherry wine and from the corner of your eye, you could see his adorably flushed cheeks and the dazed look in his eyes. “Please, don’t ever leave,” He cried, snuggling his face into your neck. “You’re so special to me.” 

But then again, that’s just what friends say, right? 

Your best friend looked at you in confusion. Ah, he must have forgotten. 

“What did I say?”

“Nothing,” You muttered. Choosing to change the topic, you turned up the volume. And soon enough, you were dancing and singing along to the song like you were on cloud nine. Eric chuckled to himself as he watched you with soft eyes, a small smile tugging on his lips.

You glared playfully. “Eyes on the road, sir.”

Eric rolled his eyes but obliged. For safety, of course. When the song ended, you sat back in your seat and you looked at him. Sometimes you forgot that Eric wasn’t a little boy who played hide and seek with you anymore. He was a man who had grown up to be… fairly attractive. His jawline was sharp now, he was taller, and he had muscles from his endless workouts that you would constantly walk in on him doing. You could see that from the way he had rolled up his sleeves to reveal his forearms, handling the steering wheel with one hand. Taking a gulp, you quickly looked away. What were you thinking?

“Eyes on me?” He lifted an eyebrow, glancing at you teasingly.

You cleared your throat. “No, I— You just look bad today.”

“Mhm,” He hummed smugly. “Sure.”

And for some reason, your cheeks felt unusually warm.

It was a long road trip so naturally, that meant that the evening would come. It was dark out now and the music was long turned off. At some point, you had fallen asleep, the sound of the car engine lulling you easily.

Whilst you were dreaming of a beach house lit naturally by the bright sun, Eric took a glimpse at you. He smiled to himself affectionately, staying quiet. But it faltered when he noticed you shiver from the cool night air. 

Parking to the side for a moment, he reached back to pull out a blanket. Carefully and lovingly, he placed it over you, trying not to wake you up.

But, you always had the tendency to wake up whenever the car was stopped so you felt every single sensation with your eyes still closed. The warmth of his fingertips brushing against your arm, the rhythm of your quickening heartbeat, and… the press of a soft pair of lips on your forehead.

But maybe it was just a dream.

When Eric had started driving, before you dozed off again, you could hear him humming a song. A song that you recognized. A love song.

—

The house was ten times better than what it looked like in the pictures. The exterior of it looked like it came straight out of those real estate magazines. Palm trees decorated the scene and if you had simply turned around, you would be met with the breathtaking sight of the beach with its clear, almost sparkling ocean. Scrambling to explore the inside, you were surprised to see just how big it was. The ceiling was tall and the interior was embellished with various decorations. 

“This is what we deserve after practicing good financial habits for all those years,” You marveled, opening all the doors to reveal gorgeous rooms that were bright simply from the sunlight outside. Just like you had dreamed about. Eric hummed, trailing behind you, taking in the house silently, as opposed to your constant awes.

Finally, the two of you ended up in the master bedroom. 

Turning to him slowly, you put on your best puppy-like impression. “Can I have this one?”

Eric looked at you thoroughly unimpressed. “Is that the best you could do?”

You even pouted this time. He still stared back, completely unabashed. At a loss, you leaned in close, right up to his face. And for some reason, almost immediately, he was backing away with reddening cheeks.

“O-okay,” He stuttered. “Fine. You can have this one.”

Cheering, you flopped down on the bed, and with a sigh, you looked out the window dreamily. “If only my room was this neat all the time. It’s always messy.”

Eric huffed, lying down next to you. You turned your head to him and smiled softly at his serene expression as he looked up to the ceiling. 

“You can always call me if you need someone to clean your room,” He mumbled. “I’m the neatest after all.”

“Ah…” You breathed. “You’re right. Last time when you–”

“Knock, knock.” You could hear Eric’s voice from outside your door. With a slight sniffle, you brought the covers over your face, curling up to yourself. Being hit with a sudden slump that left you unable to do anything except lie in bed defeated wasn’t entirely ideal. 

Your room was an absolute mess and when Eric had called you, he immediately could tell from your voice that you were having a hard time. You heard the door opening and him entering the room. He stood there silently for a moment. But suddenly, you could hear various sounds. Trash being picked up, clothes being folded… peeking your head outside of your blankets, you realized that he was cleaning up for you. 

With tears welling up in your eyes at his kind actions, you sniffled even louder. Eric instantly looked up at the sound and he was right by your side. He pulled you into a hug, whispering sweet, sweet words in your ear as his hand stroked the back of your head soothingly.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” He had whispered, pulling away so that he could brush a strand of hair out of your face gently. Even caressing your cheek, he had let you fall asleep against his chest.

But that’s what friends do, right?

Clearing your throat, you sat up abruptly. Eric followed, staring at you with slight perplexion. Suddenly, you turned to him.

“I never got to say thank you,” You blurted out. “For taking care of me that one time. So… thank you.”

And you had feared he would question what you were talking about. But instead, he nodded with a small smile.

“Of course,” He chuckled casually. “I’ll always care for you, dummy.” 

You smiled at that and then you lunged forward, pulling him into a hug. With your sheer force, he fell back on the bed. And just like that, it was the two of you, giggling and hugging each other, arms wrapped around warmly, in the midst of a beautiful beach house.

–

After unpacking and getting everything in order, you were so exhausted that you had fallen asleep almost immediately. But waking up in the morning was refreshing, with the bright sunshine pouring straight onto your face, warming you up perfectly. With a satisfied yawn and stretch, you walked out of your room, still dressed in your sleepwear.

But you paused abruptly when you saw Eric standing in the kitchen, apron tied around his waist and his sleeves rolled up again. He looked up and he smiled.

“Let’s cook together today.”

You gave him a pained smile and approached him. Before you could even say anything, he was leaning in to brush the messy strands of hair out of your face from just waking up. You’ve always noticed how gentle his hands were on you. When with Juyeon, he was rough and playful. But with you… he treated you like a piece of glass.

“We still suck though,” You complained.

“All the more reason to practice?” He gave you a quirked-up smile. 

Late at night, Eric was sleeping over. But suddenly, he had sprung up, startling you from your dozing off.

“I’m hungry,” He grumbled. “Let’s cook something.” 

And that was how you found yourself, half-asleep in the kitchen, figuring out how to make a simple dish from an old cookbook in one of your drawers. The two of you tried so hard, following each and every direction, only for it to taste like burnt pieces of garbage.

And so, Eric, with a sleepy, raspy voice, had to order takeout. You were silent until your eyes landed on the failed attempt once again. It looked like a blob of black, green, and somehow… pink. And soon enough, you were bent over the counter, laughing so hard over the monstrosity. You had expected Eric to join in on your laughing fit but instead, he had put down his phone and only stared at you fondly.

His eyes were sparkling as they met with yours and he had on the softest tug of his lips. Something in his expression made you stop laughing over how embarrassed you had gotten. Why was he looking at you like that? Almost like he… 

But that’s just how friends look at each other, is it not?

“You look focused,” Eric remarked, brushing past you to flip the pancakes.

“Huh? Oh– yeah,” You breathed out. “I just… remembered something.”

“What’s up?” 

And again, he looked at you like that. Eyes warm and gentle on yours, his smile small yet so, so fond. Your eyes trailed down to where his hand had reached forward, near your waist to steady you from bumping into the sharp corner of the counter. Your cheeks immediately warmed up as you abruptly turned around. 

“N-nothing.”

–

After breakfast and getting ready, you headed out to the nearby outdoor market. It was a beautiful, yet bustling sight. People were in every corner, every stall, buying various things like seashell necklaces and cute jellyfish lamps. Your eyes were practically shimmering and you quickly grabbed hold of Eric’s wrist to pull him along.

At the first stall, a woman was selling beautiful leis. You gasped, picking one up and showing your best friend. He grinned and nodded expectantly.

“What’re you waiting for? Put it on,” He joked. 

You laughed and shook your head. Instead, you stepped forward, looping the pink and purple flower garland around his neck. You could hear the small intake from his lips as he looked down at you, eyes wide. Maybe, you were a bit too close to him. But, you didn’t think much of it as you continued to adjust it and admire the colors that complimented him perfectly.

Well, up until a child had run past, bumping into you and causing you to fall straight into Eric’s arms.

“Oh, I–” You gulped, feeling a warm hand close around your waist, holding you steady. 

“Sorry,” He muttered nervously, his cheeks flushing.

“It’s okay,” You whispered, peering up at him, still pressed against his body. He gazed back and his eyes began to slowly trail down to your… With a cough, you pulled away, refusing to look him in the eye. His hands were always gentle.

Again, you took his wrist to lead him somewhere else. But that was when you felt him pull away. For a second, you thought you might have lost him in the crowd, but he was still right behind you. Instead, his hand closed around yours, his fingers—rough from playing baseball in his free time—intertwining firmly around. You tried to ignore the quickening pace of your heart.

“So you don’t get lost,” He teased.

“You’re the one who gets lost the most,” You retorted, your voice slightly shaky.

At the next stall, there were plushies displayed for sale. Some were badly sewn, like the cat missing a buttoned eye. But some were particularly cute, especially the white bunny keychain, sitting on one of the shelves. 

“Hey,” You mumbled, approaching it. Both ears were intact and upright. “This reminds me of…”

Clutching the bunny plushie with the price tag attached to its ear close to your chest, you looked at Eric with a pleading look. 

“Please,” You complained. “Let me buy it. I promise I’ll pay you back tomorrow. Hm?”

Eric looked at you with narrowed eyes, switching his gaze from you to the plushie. And then he sighed, taking it from your hand. With hopeful eyes, you watched as he walked to the shelf and put it back. And just like that, all your dreams were crushed.

“C’mon.” He urged you away. “That’s dumb.”

“But you know my favorite animals are bunnies,” You whined. But still, you followed him out of the store.

About a week later, he showed up at your door. It was your birthday after all so when your eyes landed on the small present box in your hands, you smiled with delight. He tilted his head with a shy smile.

“Happy birthday,” He whispered, leaning in to pull you into a hug. “I know this isn’t great, but I tried my best.” He smiled at you sheepishly.

When you opened it, sitting inside was a small plushie. Of a bunny. It was so, so badly made, the stitches mangled and the ears practically falling off. But it was so… Eric.

“Is that why you didn’t let me buy the other one?” You questioned, clutching it close to your chest protectively.

He nodded with a completely serious expression. “I didn’t need unnecessary competition.”

And despite rolling your eyes at his comment, you found yourself carefully placing the plushie right at your bedside so it was the first thing you saw when you woke up. 

And to this day, you still have it.

But that’s just what friends do… you think.

Eric had read your mind and quickly, he was grabbing your hand and pulling you away from the stall.

“My sewing skills could be better,” He said with an embarrassed look on his face. You laughed in response. Before you could even say anything else, he was reaching forward to clasp a necklace around your neck. He was so, so close that you could feel his breath across your lips and smell his scent which reminded you a lot like cotton candy. 

“When did you get this?” You whispered, looking down at it. It was a small seashell shaped like a heart.

“Few minutes ago.” He smiled. “But you didn’t notice.”

“I love it.” You grinned. And just like that, you hadn’t reached for his wrist this time, but straight for his hand. With fingers intertwined, the two of you walked down the rest of the market, smiling and laughing all throughout the sunset.

–

Another day had passed and the two of you had mostly stayed inside the beach house, due to the cloudy weather ruining the mood. It was fun nonetheless, watching movies and even playing board games. Which, Eric won all three of them for some reason. You simply call it luck.

Now, laying in your bed, you felt yourself grow drowsy over the ambient noise of the rain pattering on the windows and the occasional rumble of thunder. Sometimes, there would be a flash of light outside–lightning, but you were much too tired to really care.

Just as your eyes were about to shut close, you heard a knock on the door.

“Eric?” You whispered, your voice croaky from sleep.

The door creaked open, and there he was, dressed in a comfy t-shirt. You recognized it. The one that he had once let you borrow because you had spilled coffee all over yourself. It was warm and… well, it smelled just like him.

“What happened?” You frowned, sitting up. He stepped closer and if you looked closely, you could see the tinge of red on his cheeks.

“...you know,” He muttered.

You did know.

Your phone rang, startling you out of your sleep. Despite your initial grumpiness, you picked up when you realized it was your best friend.

“Eric?”

A deep breath from the other line. And then–

“Can you come over?”

You looked at the time. It was two in the morning.

“Why?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“I’m… scared of thunderstorms.” You could even hear his voice tremble. And just like that, you were out the door, umbrella in hand. But the rain was so heavy that it managed to seep into your clothes and hair anyway, leaving you drenched by the time you reached his door.

At the sound of the doorbell, Eric flung the door open. You couldn’t even get a word in because he was pulling you in and he was throwing his arms around you, scrambling to hold you close, his hands grasping onto your shirt tightly. You smiled softly as you hugged him back, even if you were getting his clothes wet too.

“I missed you,” He whispered, tightening his hold. “So much.”

You laughed softly. “I’m right here. You saw me yesterday already, didn’t you?”

“I–” He grumbled, pulling away. His lips were pulled into a tight frown as he searched your eyes with a deeper meaning behind them. “I always miss you.”

That’s not… how friends act, do they?

“Want to sleep here?” You patted the spot next to you, even bringing an extra pillow and adjusting the blankets.

“Gladly,” He grinned. “That’s why I came here in the first place.” In only a matter of seconds, he was climbing into bed with you. The two of you never… slept in the same bed together but it felt so natural with the way your arms wrapped around him and he had snuggled up to your chest.

This is definitely how friends act.

–

The next day was boring. You all had planned it to be the day where each one of you would go off and do whatever separately as a way to individually relax. But, you realized just how much Eric was a part of your life. Wandering the gardens, you found yourself thinking of his stupid puns and his even stupider smile. Truth be told, Eric was always with you. The two of you never went a week without seeing each other. Any much longer than that and Eric was clinging and hugging you for the whole day, saying he needed to “recharge.”

Finally, in the evening, you saw Eric again. He was wearing a comfy, zip-up jacket since the evenings tended to get chilly and his hair was adorably messy. Adorably? Since when did you think that?

“Want to sit with me?” He leaned against the doorway. “My room has a better view.” You nodded brightly and followed him. 

You had never noticed just how beautiful the scenery actually was from his room. Your room mostly pointed towards the various palm trees. But his room, with its wide and tall window that overlooked the whole beach, was different. The two of you sat together on the bed, knees drawn up to your chests, as you observed the constant motion of the ocean water moving back and forth, creating bubbles with it. The night sky was dark, yet it sparkled with twinkling stars dotted across it. 

When you looked over, you saw Eric, looking out the window too. The moonlight shone perfectly on his face, accentuating each of his handsome features. His kind eyes, the slope of his nose, his plush lips that shaped into a soft smile.

He was always handsome. You always knew that. But something about this moment, right now, left your eyes widening, cheeks flushing, and your heart pounding. 

“What do you mean you lost the grocery list?” You whined. “Juyeon wanted this huge Christmas feast. I can’t bear to disappoint him.”

Eric grimaced. “I swear, my dog ate it.”

“You don’t even have a dog.”

The two of you continued to bicker, walking down the numerous aisles of the grocery store, trying to figure out the ingredients to make Juyeon’s favorite food until an elderly couple stopped you in your tracks.

“Aren’t you both an adorable couple?” The woman cooed.

Your jaw dropped and you turned to Eric, only to find that he didn’t share the same shocked expression. He was smiling almost… shyly, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Oh, just look at the way he looks at them,” The man pointed out before turning to his wife. “Just like I had looked at you all those years ago.”

The woman laughed bashfully, batting him away. Then, she turned back to Eric with kind eyes.

“You must love them a lot.” She said with a kind smile.

You were about to jump in and refute, explain everything was all a lie, that you both were just really good friends up until–

“I do,” Eric replied. He looked at you with that same look that he’d been looking at you for ages now. The softening gaze and slight tug of his lips… it was like you were the flame to his wooden match. “I truly do.”

That’s not how friends act.

You swallowed thickly, all words caught in your throat for a moment. That particular moment often flitted past your mind briefly because you thought that he was just playing along. But now that you think about it…

“Did you mean it?” You finally whispered.

He turned to you with a confused smile. “Mean what?”

“That you… love me.” You studied his face for an answer and you had hoped that you wouldn’t find one—that you wouldn’t see the absolutely smitten look on his face that would further complicate your friendship that’s already lasted decades. But you saw it. The smitten look, right there in front of you. It was there and it gave you all the answers that you needed.

He was quiet, watching you with a tender look in his eyes. And then he leaned to the side, bumping his shoulder with yours lightly.

“I meant it,” He replied, smiling to himself shyly. You gazed at him in shock. “But...” He turned to you, his smile faltering slightly. “However you want to interpret that is up to you.”

You bit your lip and tilted your head so that it was resting on his shoulder. It was odd but not that surprising how well it fits in the crook of his neck, almost as if you were always meant to be there. You didn’t say anything right away, instead, choosing to watch the waves roll, over and over. But everything reminded you of the man sitting right beside you. The bright stars in the sky were just like the mischievous twinkle that he would have in his eyes before he would tackle you into a hug and the crystal clear water that flowed in and out on the sand was just like the steady pounding of your heartbeat whenever you caught sight of his pretty smile. 

“As friends or romantically?” You spoke, so quietly that Eric had to lean in even closer to hear you, his hair brushing against your forehead.

He hummed ambiguously. “Whatever you want.” But you could hear the slight tremor in his deep voice.

His words only further answered your question. No matter how hard he would try to make it so that it was all up to you, you could sense everything. The soft tone of his voice, his warm hand covering yours, and his calm breathing. You could sense his feelings. Each and every one of them, like his heart was beating directly through yours.

Slowly, the rustle of the palm trees and the natural sound of his slow breaths gently pulled you into a state of drowsiness. Shuffling so that your whole side was pressed up to his, you leaned closer, nuzzling your cheek into his warm shoulder. And gradually, your eyes closed, sleep overcoming you peacefully.

He smiled down at you, gently bringing you to lie down on the bed. He pulled the blankets over you, tucking you in snugly. And then he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, gazing at you with so much warmth.

“Romantically,” He whispered, brushing a piece of hair out of your face. “It’s always been romantically.”

–

You had woken up to a text from Juyeon. And yes, you have been sending pictures to him, mostly consisting of blurry selfies of you posing perfectly and Eric who wasn’t even looking at the camera, constantly distracted.

Stretching, you realized that you weren’t in your bed. You were in Eric’s bed. And just like that, all the memories came rushing back to you. Romantically or as friends? As friends or romantically? Whichever one was it?

Shaking your head, you opened the text.

Juyeon: did you do the last activity on the itinerary yet?

Juyeon: the beach party

And so there you were, dressed in one of your summer outfits, flowy and perfect for the weather. Eric was beside you, staring in awe at the scene. The two of you had never quite made it to the beach, being so preoccupied with other places to explore. But now that you were here, the sand soft under you and the sun setting in the background, you couldn’t help but smile dearly. You had waited excitedly for this moment really, as Juyeon had claimed that this was a surprise made by him and he had hired someone to set it up.

And set up it was. String lights and lanterns were scattered about, lighting up the scene. There were chairs set up, made to sit together and watch the calm ocean. And on the right, there was a speaker to play music.

“Well isn’t this pretty?” You mumbled, your mouth agape.

Eric smiled, turning to look right at you. “Very pretty.”

Wordlessly, he took your hand in his, leading you toward the lanterns. It wasn’t really a party anymore. You couldn’t help but think that this was actually a beach… a beach date.

You sat down in one of the chairs and you watched as Eric picked up his phone to put on music. Immediately, you recognized the song. 

“You Better Know?” You laughed, remembering all the times you and Eric had belted out Red Velvet songs after failing an exam to cope with the feeling of failure. It never really worked but it was fun either way. 

He shrugged with a charming smile. He began to dance slightly as he walked away to pick up seashells that were scattered across the beach. You watched silently, leaning forward as you let your eyes wander over your best friend. 

Eric truly no longer was the messy boy who scribbled outside the lines on coloring books or the boy who repeatedly tripped on the playground causing his knees to get scraped. He no longer was the boy who experienced constant voice cracks or who struggled in exams because he had overslept with dark circles under his eyes. 

Instead, he was a man with a deeper voice, broader shoulders, and a charming middle part in his hair as opposed to the disorderly, overgrown middle school hairstyle he always had. He was a man who had ditched the dark hoodies in his angsty teenager phase, instead opting for white, flowy button-up shirts that complimented his golden skin perfectly. He even reminded you of Prince Eric–ironically, enough–from The Little Mermaid.

Eric no longer was the boy that you simply were best friends with. He was a man who you have fallen in love with. And you had no idea for how long.

Standing up silently, you approached him. He looked up at you, giving you a soft smile, a beautiful white seashell in his hand.

“Here,” He said, taking your hand in his. He placed the shell in yours, gazing at you with so much affection that you felt a shudder all throughout your spine. “For you.”

You smiled, looking down at it. It was round, embellished with small ridges. It was perfect. The faint sound of the upbeat, song playing in the background as you looked up at him with sparkles in your eyes.

“Eric,” You started. “I have to tell you something.”

And for some reason, he had leaned forward, pressing a finger to your lips to shush you. You let out a muffled sound, gaping at him in bewilderment.

“Eric?”

“Let me speak first,” He whispered. 

You inhaled sharply…

“Romantically.”

…held your breath…

“My answer is romantically.”

… and exhaled shakily, processing his confession, one word at a time. But before you could, Eric was saying more.

“For the longest time, I’ve had the biggest crush on you. Ever since I saw you back in elementary school. And mayhaps, I did mean that stupid ‘will you marry me?’ statement,” He chuckled. He reached forward taking your other hand in his, wrapping his fingers around. “Over time I… I tried to get over you. But, since you’re my best friend I couldn’t distance myself. So I accidentally fell in love.”

You felt your heart pound at his words, all of your memories rushing back in full force. It all had started to make sense. The acts of service when you weren’t feeling well, the soft looks when you were only laughing, the homemade gifts even though he claimed that he hated making things, and the… words. The specific word love.

“Eric, I…”

“Ah, wait,” He laughed. “This song.”

Red Flavor by Red Velvet. The classic, happy summer song. 

And suddenly, he reached forward, pulling you in by the waist. “Can I sing for you?”

You snorted, your cheeks flushing once you registered the warmth of his large hand on the small of your back. “This song?”

“Mhm,” He hummed, grinning. “This song.”

And before you could retort, he actually started singing, Swaying you from left to right, his arms continuously wrapped around you, his deep voice resonated through the cozy summer night, igniting each and every star one by one. He sang the pre-chorus, gazing at you with affection and well, love.

"I like you, it was love at first sight. I keep thinking of you." His lips pulled up into a soft smile as he sang, his voice husky and a great contrast to the higher-pitched voices of the actual song. You were enamored, your heart beating right against his chest as you watched him silently, watching as he sang so, so, gently. Only for you and for you only. “I want to go my own way.”

And then the chorus started with its fun beat and cheerful singing. You giggled, placing your hands on his chest, leaning forward to hide in his neck. 

“This song does not fit the moment right now,” You remarked, smiling against his skin. You could feel the vibration of his deep laugh as he held you closer, his hands stroking your sides gently.

“But at least it got the confession down. So, what’s your answer?”

You laughed, pulling away to look up at him lovingly. He smiled down at you, his eyes wandering over each of your features fondly.

“The very last line,” You replied. He had grown silent at that, listening to each of the lyrics, waiting for the end. And then–

What I like the most is you in the summer.

Eric widened his eyes and he looked down at you hopefully. “Really?”

You nodded, your cheeks flushing. “Not just like. Love.”

“Oh, wow,” He breathed out. And again, just like he had done all those other times, he brushed a piece of hair out of your face, his fingers brushing against your skin with sparks accompanying it. “God, I’m so in love,” He muttered. And just like that, the next song had started—Hear The Sea—playing softly in the background.

You laughed, “Did you just put on a whole Red Velvet playlist?”

“And what about it?” He grinned. “It’s summer.” And slowly, he pulled away, not before looping your hand in his. His hand rested on your waist, holding you close. To the calm singing and beautiful instrumental of the song, the two of you danced. Sometimes, either one of you would trip on the sand, causing an endeared laugh here and there. But mostly, the silence between you was filled with soft smiles and flushed cheeks.

Even though Eric no longer was the boy who ran around when it was summertime, he always would be the boy with the most beautiful smile. 

His eyes were bright on yours, watching you closely as the two of you swayed slowly to the music. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this for?” He whispered.

You shook your head, feeling hot all over. 

“So long,” He continued. “I’ve always longed to dance with you.”

You smiled. “And what else?”

“Hold you.”

You hummed. “You always loved doing that.”

But then his eyes darkened on you for a moment. “And… kiss you. Though I haven’t done that one yet.”

Your breath hitched, your dancing coming to a halt. “Then do it.”

He gazed at you softly. “Are you sure? There’s no rush.”

“Think for yourself.” You giggled. “How long exactly have you waited to kiss me?”

He paused, and both of his hands came down to grasp your waist this time. “Years. I’ve waited for years.” He looked at you shyly, his eyes adorably hopeful and loving.

“Then act.”

And so he did.

Almost aggravatingly slow–as if to make sure he really had your consent–he tilted his head and he softly placed his lips on yours. Shutting your eyes closed, you allowed yourself to get lost in the addictive feeling, the soft pull of your lips and the gentle grasping of your waist as he pulled you so close that your bodies were flush against each other. 

It was like everything was drowned out. In your ears, you could no longer hear the crash of the waves on the shore. Instead, you could only make out the quiet, satisfied hum that escaped Eric’s parted lips. You couldn’t feel the summer breeze blowing against your skin, you could only feel the warmth of the palm of his hand as it came to cup your jaw, tipping your head slightly so he could kiss further.

It was a soft kiss, filled with sparks that would set off fireworks in the very pit of your stomach. Slow movements without fervor, as it was just Eric, kissing you like he must have been dreaming of doing all these years. The hand on your waist fit perfectly around you and so you couldn’t help but melt into his touch, stepping closer. Eric huffed out a quiet laugh as he blindly guided your hand to where his heart was where you could only feel it beat and beat and beat.

And with a tap against his chest, the two of you broke apart, lips red and slightly swollen. You stared at him in silence before bursting out into shy laughter, lunging forward to hide your face in his shoulder. Eric sighed softly, wrapping his arms around you once again, but this time with a different feeling. Love, maybe. 

“Who knew that this trip would force me to confess?” He wondered to himself.

“Good.” You scowled. “You took too long.”

“Oh?” He smirked. “But look who finally figured out their feelings on this very trip?”

Your cheeks flushed and you playfully shoved him. “Stop it.”

“Say it.”

You frowned in confusion. “Say what?”

“You know what I mean,” He teased. “I want to hear you.”

You gulped and looked down at the sand. “That I… love you?”

“Mhm,” He hummed. “I love you too.”

And then he pulled something out of his pocket. When he unfolded it, he placed it in your hand which was still clutching onto the seashell. You looked down, only to realize that it was another red, paper heart. Written in neater, more legible handwriting this time, were the words, 

“Will you date me?”

“Ah,” You breathed out. “So you finally get the words right.”

He rolled his eyes. “Is that a yes or no, my beautiful?”

“My,” You laughed. “If you use my, then that means I’m already yours.”

“You’ve always been mine.” His eyes sparkled.

“Then my answer is yes,” You whispered before smiling and leaning up to peck his lips once again. He was about to pull you into a full-fledged kiss but you giggled before running away, kicking behind flurries of sand. Eric groaned and he began to chase you down the shoreline.

“You can’t do that after you’ve just kissed me!” He complained. 

“Too bad.” You stuck your tongue out. His frown turned into a fond smile as he laughed and ran after you.

You didn’t know exactly when, but the two of you somehow ended up in the water–clothes that weren’t meant for swimming, thoroughly soaked.

He looked at you with a loving smile as he waded over to you, his hair slightly damp from your splashing. Huffing out a fond laugh, he quickly trapped you into his embrace. And then he turned you, his back to the rest of the ocean so that you wouldn’t be hit by the waves. Smiling at you, he pulled you back in, his lips, wet from the water, pressing onto yours.

“You taste like the ocean.” You grinned after pulling away.

“And you taste delicious.”

“Oh my.” You gasped. “Why are you flirty now? I only know the clumsy, foolish Eric.”

“There’s much more to learn about me,” He whispered, grinning widely as he reached a hand out of the water to brush away a strand that had stuck to your forehead. “Just you wait. I’d even write a whole novel for you. And you know I failed literature class.”

You laughed, clearly remembering the defeated look on his face when he had checked his exam grade. 

“I learned something already,” You quietly said. A particularly harsh wave almost shoved you both off your feet, but Eric was quick to steady you with his hands. Always so gentle and firm.

“And what’s that?”

“That you’re an excellent kisser.”

He laughed adorably before pressing a kiss to your lips again. 

“And I knew something already,” He uttered. "For a while now."

“Hm?” A smile grew on your face.

“That I’m so–” A peck on your cheek. “So…” Another on the tip of your nose. “So in love with you.” And finally, a kiss on your lips. 

The truth is, that neither of you cared if the ocean was trying its best to knock you both over. Your blooming love and soft, adoring smiles in between kisses were steady enough to hold you up.

Because that’s just how friends act. Or more specifically, how two best friends who fell in love with each other act.

–

You sent one thing to Juyeon on the last day of your trip. Attached, was a selfie of the two of you, kissing softly, the ocean and the moon in the background. 

Juyeon immediately opened it. And then the bubbles of his texting appeared and disappeared, for over three minutes. When his message appeared, you laughed loudly at the one word that appeared on the screen.

Juyeon: finally 

[samieree]

Hoi I was wondering if you could do a hiemdall x reader where the reader has adhd or write head cannons? Please

Oh yes! It can be kinda funny thought, because I feel like Heimdall doesn't have much patience in him 😂

I hope I'll write it well, I found behavior of a person with ADHD on the Internet.

So here we go, Heimdall x reader with ADHD headcanons!

When you first met in Asgard, you quickly become one of the most annoying people for him (not more than Thor of Thrud)

He thought he has much patience, really. But after talking with you he had to rethink that.

Heimdall just can't stand when someone talk over him. He may be an asshole, but still believes in culture of discussion.

Not to mention that in your head is almost always chaos. Because of that he often feels confused around you but also intrigued. It's something new to him, not knowing what exactly going on in someone's head.

When he learned you have ADHD suddenly your actions made sense (and he stopped his sarcastic comments on you habits, like tapping fingers on the table or tapping feet. He used to say "Are you sewing something?" when he saw how you leg moves).

Heimdall started looking at you differently and after few days decided to work on his patience (he really needs that).

He got used to reminding you what you were doing/talking about when you got distracted.

Luckily he was already used to explosiveness (thanks to Thor. Okay, Heimdall likes to annoy him, so it's kinda his fault but you know... "He's only speaking the truth, but in a nasty way")

You know, it even became kinda funny for him when you finished the sentence for him. You weren't always right, but when you guessed what he wanted to say it felt like you were reading his mind and he likes that feeling.

Finding you tapping your fingers on the table, he started tapping his but in the different rhythm and like that you were "playing" some songs (Heimdall sometimes starts to hum to himself or even sing quietly. Most of the time you pretend you don't hear it so you can hear his voice in this rare way).

(When you make him aware of what he's doing, he's gonna stop and say "I didn't, you're delusional" or "No, you were").

Okay, we know he is fit, but he doesn't do much to keep his figure (he's a God after all) but with you... He never walked this much.

One day you made around 20 circles just walking on the Wall.

He never was a fan of running and never will be, but he runs after you (Even when Odin told him that he no longer has to watch over you).

Heimdall found himself feeling pretty good in role of your bestie. He is sitting on standing somewhere and you're just walking around him and speaking about your problems, rumours or anything else. He listens, talks back.

Once you asked him to braid you hair.

He didn't agree :(

You looked so sad that he couldn't bare it and next morning came to your room with a brush and hairbands.

Of course he was a bit annoyed, when you couldn't sit in one place. Once he had to start walking after you ("Thank Gods I'm taller than you", "You're lucky I'm skilled at braiding", "Stop or I'm going to tear your hair out and not even on purpose!")

He found a solution for this problem! :D

He noticed that when you draw you always sit in one place and not fidget too much. So apart from a brush and hairbands, he always brings with him sheets of paper, charcoal, pen, ink, paints…

Heimdall got some habits because of you, like taking you by the hand when he feels you get nervous (no matter if you're alone or someone is around).

(Sometimes he even hugs you. Or he playfully pats your head, turning your attention to him)

After a few months Baldur started to joke, that his brother finally found a girl he likes more than his hair (or Odin).

Of course he denied, saying that he simply cares for people in Asgard in general. But inside he couldn't lie to himself.

He began to hug you more often (and he no longer wanted to gain more attention or appreciation from his father).

Once, when you lost your favourite pair of shoes (they were under wardrobe) and he found them... "You're cute when you run like that, looking for something" No, he didn't say that! He's gonna call you delusional, blush and walk away.

He didn't have problems accepting his feelings, he just... Was afraid that you can reject him.

Things changed when he was braiding you hair and you just draw a big, read heart on the paper. You gave it to him, and found him blushing like no one ever before (this sight will never leave your head, he looked kinda cute. Like a beetroot, but cute beetroot).

Not much changed in your relationship after you became a pair, except that you started kissing during the day (and night) and something more... 😏

Teasing remains (but both of you know he's just joking).

Maybe he's even more protective.

Baldur's gonna make fun of him (but he likes you and is happy for his brother's and yours happiness).

In the end, you teached him something (besides how to love and care for someone) - patience (and running fast without superpowers. He thought he was gonna spit out his lungs).

Children? Nah, he has to think about this... (He was just waiting for you to start thinking about it)(He even has names).

-> general masterlist

-> God of War: Ragnarök masterlist

[spiritedscorpio]

Mine - Osamu Dazai

Warnings: Mentioning of murder, blood, knife play, possessiveness, degradation, breeding.

Despite his flirtatious nature, Dazai actually didn’t have a serious partner until you. He was fairly afraid of rejection so it took a while for him to actually ask you out but when he did, you instantly agreed. Even though you had known each other for over 5 years, your relationship hadn’t changed drastically until last year. He recruited you because of your mind reading ability and because of it you often got called to investigate cases along with him and Ranpo. With your mind reading ability, Ranpo’s deduction skills, and Dazai’s smarts and connections, the three of you were unstoppable.

The current case you were investigating was regarding a series of murders. All the victims had short black hair and were in their late 40s to early 50s. Ranpo soon deducted that these acts were somewhat out of revenge and the killer had some tragic family issues. Soon you were able to find the culprit based on the locations of the murders. He was a young man, no older than 25. Despite his identity just being revealed to the three of you, he had a terrible reputation on the news; everyone was calling him a monster and saying they wished he would just disappear. Dazai and Ranpo examined the most recent body while you kept an eye on the culprit. He was kneeling on the ground and mumbling barely audible sentences. “Monster... I’m not a monster...”

He was shaking and gripping at his hair before he grabbed onto your ankles. “You! You don’t think I’m a monster to do you? I swear... I...” he was choking on his sobs.

Like the majority of the members in the Detective agency, you came from a problematic family so you understood him. You kneeled down to his level. “You’re not a monster” You placed a hand in his shoulder. “You’re just hurting and you’ll get the help you need soon" Your smile and tone was genuine.

By now Dazai was watching your interaction. The way you treated an "evil" and broken man with such kindness reminded him too much of how you were when he met you. You both worked for the Port Mafia previously so you learned of all his crimes and occasionally worked together. He came off as pretty odd but the more you worked together, you noticed his humor was somewhat of a coping mechanism-- it was something you had in common. Regardless of his reputation or the things he had done, you always treated him with a kindness that no one ever had before and felt he didn't deserve. The current situation was too familiar and he couldn't allow it. You were one of the few people he had been vulnerable with and something inside him simply couldn't let anyone else get the same treatment you gave him. As per usual, he didn't say what he was really thinking and just interrupted your conversation while wearing a fake cheery smile. "It truly is an unfortunate situation you were in and while I understand your motives..." He swiftly moved behind the culprit to handcuff him. "That doesn't excuse your actions"

"Ranpo, you take him in, y/n and I are going to check out the other crime scenes. He agreed since it meant he would be able to avoid doing paper work for longer. You and Dazai got in his car and drove to what you thought was the crime scene but when you looked out the window, you saw your apartment. "What are we doing here?"

"Oh there's just a few things I forgot earlier, mind giving me a hand?" His tone and smile convinced you.

You agreed and went inside with him, not suspecting anything. He walked in after you and silently locked the door. You turned to face him. "Where is the stuff you need?"

"It should be in the bedroom" he said and you quickly headed there leaving him smiling; admiring how naïve you could be.

While you were looking through a box in the closet he entered the room and leaned against a wall. "Y/n do you love me?" he asked abruptly.

"What? Of course I do"

"Interesting... Then why were you giving that man earlier the time of day?"

"I..." you tried to protest but he didn't give you the chance.

"Do you need attention from every man around you? If not I don't see why you'd treat scum like him that well." He had you backed up against the wall, cowering before him, flustered, and unable to speak.

"That's it isn't it? You're an attention whore" He let out a chuckle. "I'm afraid that won't work because... He tilted your head up so you were making direct eye contact with him.

"You're mine"

He smashed his lips onto yours, exploring your mouth when you gasped at the sudden action. There was a certain unfamiliar feeling of anger in the kiss. "Get on your knees" he commanded once you parted.

You unbuckled his pants and pulled both them and his boxers down. There was no time for you to do anything on your own before he gripped your hair and forced his cock into your mouth. You took sharp inhales through you nose as he pushed your head down the entirety of his cock, leaving your nose brushing against his abdomen. "T-that's right, put that slutty mouth of yours to good use" He tried to suppress his noises of pleasure to seem more dominant but you still noticed how his voice slightly wavered. His grip on your hair tightened, allowing him to thrust into your throat, using it for his own pleasure. Words of degradation fell from his lips as he went on about how this is what you were made for. You couldn’t deny the fact that you were really turned on as you brought one of your hands into your pants and rubbed circles over your clothed clit.

He let out another chuckle, “Are you really getting off on this? Getting off on being my little fucktoy? How pathetic”

“Anyways stop that, if you’re going to get off, it’s going to be because of me". You whined in response but obeyed, placing your hands on his thighs to prevent you from touching yourself. As he used your throat you let out whimpers and moans that were muffled by his cock but still brought him closer to his release.

"You're gonna swallow for me okay?" It sounded like a suggestion although you both knew he wasn't giving you a choice. After a few more thrusts, he came with a loud groan and you swallowed, using the back of your thumb to catch anything that spilled out. He told you to get on the bed after removing your clothes, leaving you completely nude.

You started to feel self-conscious and crossed your limbs to hide your body. “Don’t get all shy on me now” He nudged your legs open with his knees and attached his lips to your neck. He used the sound of your moans to find your sweet spot and focused his attention on it. After decorating your neck with hickeys, he sank his teeth into the same spot, drawing a little blood. You let out a gasp from the sudden action but soon enjoyed the mixture of pain and pleasure as he licked over the bite mark. His hand travelled down to your cunt and found that you were soaking. “My, aren’t you enjoying this. You’re enjoying me marking what’s mine?”

He didn’t even wait for your response before trailing his lips down to your breasts, nibbling and sucking on the tender skin. Soft moans left your mouth as his mouth sucked on one of your nipples and his fingers fiddled with the other. He finally made his way to your thighs but before he did anything, he removed the clothing on his upper body revealing the full glory of his naked form. When he returned to your thighs, you thought he would tend to your aching cunt but instead you were greeted by a cool metal feeling on your left inner thigh.

“W-what are you doing?” He didn’t respond and instead continued what he was doing. You focused on the movements the blade made and you realized it was his name. He wrote his name, on your thigh. A place where no one would see it but you both would know it’s there. You shouldn’t have found it that hot. He collected the few drops of blood on his tongue before embellishing the word with a few hickeys. He roughly propped you up against the wall and slid into you easily due to your arousal. No time was given for you to adjust to his size before he began thrusting into you, already moving at a fast pace. His grip on your hips was tight and likely guaranteed a mark being left to add to the collection of markings.

The grimace on your face when he first entered you had been washed away with no traces. "Well look at that! All of a sudden you're taking my cock so well, but I bet I'm not the only one you'd spread your slutty legs for huh?" You couldn't form a full sentence so you shook your head furiously. His right hand snaked up your body and his fingers wrapped around your neck. "You have a voice, correct? Then use it"

"N-No" you choked out.

His fingers tightened around your neck, applying pressure to it but still allowing you to breathe. Your noises began to sound weak and strained as an uncanny grin spread on the brunettes face. "No, I-I'm yours, only yours" you said between moans.

His hand released your neck and returned to your hip. Your body was spared no mercy and with the way it was being treated so roughly, tears began to fill your eyes. Dazai would be a liar to say he wasn't enjoying your reactions. Despite how much he may be bothered by you paying a lot of attention to others or men being overly attentive around you, none of them would get to see you like this or be this close to you. Only he could make you feel this good. After a few more thrusts, he felt your walls clench around him. He gave you a certain look and you immediately knew what he wanted from you. "Please..." You said, your voice breathy. "Let me cum"

A slight smirk spread across his face. "Fine" he spat. "If you're that needy" As if on cue you came seconds later, your back arching against the wall. Once you came down from your high, the sensations began to feel overstimulating yet his pace didn’t slow down. In fact he seemed to speed up his movements, clearly enjoying the way you whimpered and squirmed beneath him. Tears continued to fill your eyes and run down your cheeks but that didn't make him spare your body any mercy, instead he just kissed your tears away before pulling you into a kiss, muffling each others noises. He soon reached his own orgasm however he pulled out first, spilling his cum on your lower stomach. You were soon moved onto your back and he threw both of your legs onto his shoulders, allowing him to reach the deepest parts of you. His cock and hands worked to make you come undone, your inner sweet spots all being hit as your nipples were stimulated with his talented fingers. The room was filled with your high pitched whimpers and his low groans, both increasing in volume as you grew closer to your next release. His fingers travelled down your body and to your clit where he drew small circles, surprisingly bringing you to your next release rather quickly. Memories of you and that guy earlier filled his mind and his nails dug into your sides, he was still fairly angry however he still felt his release nearing. “You’re mine, got that?” he said, his aura completely changed.

You nodded in response even though you didn’t completely hear him and didn’t really care what he said, you were willing to do anything to keep him from stopping.

“And I’m gonna breed this greedy little cunt of yours“ He felt you shudder under him and pulsate around his cock. “You like that idea, hm? Should I indulge you in your naughty desires?” He continued however by this point he was having a conversation with himself and was going off of your body’s reactions.

As he continued to thrust into you, his name and moans left your lips, fueling his actions. “Yeah... I’m gonna fuck a baby into you” he huffed out, wrapping his arms around your thighs. After a few thrusts, he filled you with his final load, groaning loudly. When he pulled out, he stopped to watch the way his cum dripped out of you before laying down next to you. Once your breathing settled you finally spoke up.

“You know that I know what you’re thinking right?” You looked up at the brunette.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“You were worrying about that guy” You rested your forearms on his abdomen but he averted your gaze.

“See, I’m right!”

“So what if you are?” He said, trying to defend his ego.

“So, you’re worrying about nothing, you know how empathetic I am and besides I only love you” After pressing a kiss to his lips he still seemed bothered causing you to pout. You finally got a smile out of him after peppering his face with kisses. “Geez, I love you too”

“So, are we going back to the agency?”

“I don’t wanna” he complained, letting his head fall onto your shoulder.

“Fine but you’re coming up with a good excuse, Kunikida’s gonna be mad”

“Deal” he smiled, settling in bed with you in his arms.

[eri-pl]

Silm reread 14: Men! (again)

Finrod goes hunting with M&M (C3 and AA are apparently too nasty for him to hang out?), gets bored (Finrod doesn't seem to have a great attantions span), travels far because why not, he likes new places, discovers Men.

The Men are like: Yay, we found the place we've been looking for, it's perfect, all our problems are over! Finrod decides that Men are his new hyperfixation lovely. He isn't the first Elf to meet them, they'd met the Avari and learned from them already!

Osanwe and stuff.

Finrod gets named Nóm, which totally isn't "gnome but make it nonless obvious". Finrod the gnome. I love him. And making fun of him [affectionate].

Also, the Men (Beorians) are totally fanboying over Finrod too, they claim him as their ruler and swear fealty to the Arafinweans. It seems like it is spontaneous, he doesn't ask for it or anything. No colonizer vibes. They just love each other a lot. It's all very cool and kind.

A canon cnfirmation that the Eldar (so: not Sindar) are the best at learning languages of all the peoples.

Of course, Finrod asks questions. Where do Men come from? They don't want to talk about it. Finrod will keep poking, of course. Very relateable.

Here we get the thing I already posted about: Morgoth also hyperfixated on Men, so he went to corrupt them and left Sauron as the manager. And Sauron immediately lost Maedhros, and didn't even know how. :D (It's not canon, it's my interpretation of the timeline).

Anyway, Morgoth returns and leaves "only a few of his servants and not very powerful or skilled ones" among Men. So no, tha guy we'll later see impersonating one of the Mannish chieftains very likely isn't Sauron, just some less savvy shapeshifter guy. Which shows that there are more uMaiar whose MO is shapeshifting+spreading lies. which, I think, is even mentioned somewhere.

The Green Elves of Ossiriand seem to be hardcore vegans: they can't be friends with Men, because the Men cut trees and hunt animals.

The Men relocate to A&A's lands and Beor asks Finrod to take him to Nargothrond. And here he gets the name Bëor, which means a vassal… yes, it sounds not great, but based on the vibe I would assume he was the one to pick the name and Finrod reluctantly agreed.

Other Men settle at Caranthir's land and are ignored. Finrod generally visits Men often, and many Elves of both tribes come to see them too, because Men are a cool novelty. Generally, cultural exchange.

"It is said that" (Pengolodh, you gossip!) only Finrod consulted the "giving lands to Men" thing with Thingol. (TBH, Thingol banned pretty much every other Noldo from Doriath so… well ok, they could have sent letters I guess.)

Also, Thingol does have mysterious nightmares about Men!!! Self-fulfilling prophecies ftw. Ha had those even before Men were a thing. So, this is important.

Some Men fear Eldar and the light in their eyes. Huh. Yea, they're sus and Morgoth-infused I suppose. And we have the "not Sauron because he would be more competent" shapeshifter scene.

Sidenote: It would make a good comedy fic (either a very dark comedy or not very canon but anyway): this guy returns to Sauron, tells him the [lack of] results, and Sauron (still upset after losing Mae) berates him and lectures him on how to do it properly. (If less comedic, probably some quotes or at least close paraphrases from a CSL's book I have not read would fit well in here). Hmm. It could even work without comedy.

Haleth, siege, all that stuff, Caranthir learns to respect Men, and Haleth doesn't want to be his subordinate anyway. Also, she's so brave (and/or insane) that she leads her people through the Spider-land. Also, she disses Thingol a bit (he deserved that one).

Men learn sindarin en masse. Also, many young guys serve in Elven army. Cultural exchange again.

Oh, Boromir is a FA name too! XD I forgot that. Plus a lot of other people having weird names plus we get the genealogies for Turin, Tuor and Beren. Men are cool and awesome and stuff + at the end of this chapter the three Edain tribes are described. TBH I see a pretty clear analogy of:

Hadorians - Vanyar (blond, blue-eyed, tall, author's fav), but the Men are more anger-prone. (Also, Hadorians are quite Tulkas-like to me.)

Beorians - Noldor (dark hair, grey-eyed, craftsy), but the Men have more pity

Halethians (sp?) - Teleri (not social, forest-y)

Beor dies, Elves are sad and confused that it is a thing. End of chapter.

[jiyansthesis]

NOT A ROOKIE ☆ ANYMORE

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

x fem reader

summary: it's been a few years, and you've quickly made it up the ranks with your craftmanship and sheer skill when it comes to hand-to-hand combat and guns. when you get put on a new mission, you never guessed who would be there to save you

note: part 2!! honestly some people wanted to know when pt.2 came out, so should i make a taglist for my ghost fics? just comment or msg me if you want me to put you on it! i don't really like this i feel like it's so rushed or something?? idk it doesn't click. THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING A KISSING SCENE PLEASE B NICE

tw: brief mention of non-con (but does not happen to any character in past or during this ff)

pt.1 // not proofread

☆☆.

shadow.

shadows can be your greatest fear, not knowing what lies in the darkness ahead of you. an enemy, or is it your mind playing tricks on you?

it can also be a safe haven, a refuge from the blistering sun, or other things.

but that can simply be a facade, a trap for others to fall into.

using the shadows to your advantage can be lethal. being quiet, deliberate in your actions as you sneak up behind someone and take them out without causing alarm.

when harnessed correctly, shadows can be your greatest weapon.

. .

"i've got him in my sights. ready when you are." you said, staring at the back of your target's head through your scope.

you waited for confirmation, but no response came.

"captain?" you spoke, even momentarily taking your eyes off the man who isn't aware of what's about to be his untimely demise to inspect your radio.

"fuck." you wouldn't shoot without orders, having learned your lesson way back, during the mission right after you met ghost. that mission also led you to be called shadow.

you heard a crackle, and what you could make out to be, "go."

you immediately put your finger on the trigger, realigning your gun, and once you were ready, you let out a deep exhale and added pressure, the recoil always making you blink against your will. you watched as the man almost immediately slumped over.

"target down." you began packing up your gear and gun, trying to get to the rendezvous before anyone came to check out the noise.

"shadow. shadow, can you hear me? shadow, how copy?" you heard.

"captain? what's wrong?" you asked, already going down the stairs of the building, sprinting.

"did you shoot?" price sounded slightly worried.

"yes. didn't you give me the affirmative?" did you mishear him? fuck, the only reason why he wouldn't want you to shoot was probably because you shot the wrong target. "don't fucking tell me i shot the wrong person."

"no, you got the right one alright. i just need you to watch out. turns out a lot of people have already found out about your little assassination. they were ready for it. be careful making your way back. i've got a little surprise waiting for you here."

"a prize? you finally rewarding me for my hard work?" you chuckled, now on even higher alert for soldiers coming at you.

"honestly, it's up to you if you think if it's a prize."

"is it a medal? i fucking hate medals. the fuck am i gonna do with them?" you scowled, the balaclava you had on shifting as your nose scrunched up.

"nah, you might actually like this. just get here safe."

"i'm looking forward to this, price. don't disappoint me. or i'll make sure you won't touch another cigarette in your life." you grinned as you stuck to the darker areas, trying your best not to be seen by coincidence.

you paused, hearing loud footsteps. you could tell that it wasn't only one person, but multiple.

"fuck," you whispered under your breath. you took out your knife and strapped your gun onto yourself, ready to do some close combat.

you saw them turn the corner, seeing three men, all armed with guns. there was no way you were going to be able to take them all down, but you can hope that they wouldn't notice you.

you pulled your balaclava down even more on instinct, waiting for one of them to sound the alarm and shoot.

you stayed close to the wall, thankful for the shadows that were keeping you from their line of sight.

two of the men split off, turning left before they could make it to you, but one kept making his way over. as soon as he made it in arm's length to you, you quickly covered his mouth and lodge your knife into his throat, watching as he struggled.

"sorry man, i just had to." you frowned as you let him go to eventually die on the floor, retrieving your knife.

you continued on, realizing that the other two had went the way that you had to go. there was no other route that you could go on.

"fucking hell," you grabbed your gun again, ready to fire before the duo could notice you.

you followed them, and sooner or later you caught up. they kept walking, deep in conversation. letting out two quick shots, they had no time to react.

"that was unfair, wasn't it?" you said to yourself. as you made your way around the bodies, trying to get as far as possible before another group came along.

sadly enough, you couldn't get far enough before another trio intercepted your path, also all armed with guns.

you quickly raised your arms up. how the fuck were you getting out of this one?

"what are you doing here?" one of the men said, and you realized that you were far enough way from everyone you've killed for them to even known what you've done. maybe you could play off being one of them, but that would be very hard considering the fact your gear was so much different from theirs.

you looked at him questioningly as if you couldn't understand him, simply letting out a "huh?"

the trio looked at each other, then back at you. you weren't tricking anyone with the tactical gear you had on and gun in hand.

"come with us," one of them smirked. this fucking can't be good.

you knew you were outnumbered, especially with all of them having guns. there was no way you were going to be able to run away or get past killing one of them before you got shot down.

you nodded hesitantly, and the three huddled around you, one of them holding a metal barrel to your head. you could feel it through the fabric, and you began sweating. this was the closest to death you've ever been, and one wrong move could be the last move you would ever make.

they led you away from the bodies, and closer to where you were originally going to go, thankfully, and you made it to a big house, in better shape than all the other house around.

a cloth quickly made its way over your eyes, and someone pushed you to the floor, tying your legs together, but for some reason not tying your hands together, when that's the most useful thing you could have in this situation. you felt the weight of your gun being taken off your body and be set somewhere else.

"just wait a moment sweetheart, someone will be here to talk to you. they'll be so happy to see you," you could hear that guy smirk. when you got out of this situation, you would make sure you pinned his fucking balls to the wall.

you could feel their presence leave the room, and you went straight to your radio.

"price, you there?" you lowered your voice, not knowing when they could come back.

"shadow, where are you? you should've made it back by now." price responded.

"i've been captured. i'm in some big house, in better shape than all the houses around. it's not that far from the rv point. it's on the route i was taking."

"fucking hell. how many are there? you hurt?"

"i don't know. there was three men bringing me in, said they were going to go get someone. i haven't been hurt- yet." you heard a door open and slam shut, followed by what you guessed was four people.

"look who we have here. ain't you a pretty one, darling?" you made sure to take your hand off the transmission button after he spoke, so price wouldn't respond and get your radio taken away or even worse, cause you to be moved to a different building.

that must be the guy they retrieved, but what the fuck was he going to do with you. you stayed silent.

"not talkative, huh? been a while since i saw someone as cute as you walking around." you felt a force lift your chin up.

you knew that if you did anything too rash, they would shoot you. it's obvious they don't want you for any intel, so that means you're easily disposable.

"i've been looking for a sweet little girlie like you. wonder what you can do." he released you, and said. "why's her hands not tied?"

"didn't have enough rope, sir. you'll already have her tied up in that bed of yours anyways."

they all burst out in laughter and you frowned in disgust. that's what they were doing? you decided to try and get up, placing your hands on the floor to drag yourself upright, when something sharp pressed against your neck. ironic to be threatened in the same way that you killed one of their men.

"don't try anything." the guy you assumed was their superior crooned into your ear, making you shiver. and not in a good way.

sticking to not speaking, you nodded, and the blade's pressure disappeared from your neck.

"good girl," they praised, but you cringed inwardly. you would've smiled hearing that come from anyone else's mouth, especially a certain someone. a certain someone you wished could come save your ass already, but you haven't seen them in years.

simon really was a ghost. you let out a chuckle at your own thoughts.

"something funny?" another person questioned. you shook your head quickly.

"leave her here. and go get some more rope, you think some rope around her legs are going to stop here from leaving? fucking idiots."

you laid the side of your head down on the ground, and slowly began lifting up the blindfold around your eyes.

you heard the scrape of a chair, and then the guy, who you were going to call, "the boss", sat down with a sigh.

"who do you work for?" he asked. "nevermind, that's a stupid question. i bet you're with those fucking assholes who killed our leader."

you smirked a little. little did he know you were said asshole who killed him.

"fuck this. those bastards can't find anything even if it was up their ass." you could hear the rustle of clothes as he stood up and felt him grip your wrist.

"what the fuck are you doing?" you spat. you could take him on in a fight as long as no one walked in with a weapon.

"the only reason why you're still alive babe, is beca-" he was cut off by the sound of yelling and gunshots.

"is that your fucking friends?" you heard him growl.

you shrugged. "probably," you cheerily agreed as you grabbed onto his hand that was on your wrist and twisted it as hard as you could, causing him to yelp in pain.

he let go of you and you grabbed your knife, not needing to see where it was due to memory, and quickly cut through the ropes around your ankles, standing up before the boss tackled you, pinning you to the floor.

you didn't need to see to quickly flip him over, trained in being able to overpower even the strongest person. you brought your legs over his back and used your weight and his momentum to make you the one on top. you didn't know if he still had his knife on him, and didn't take any chances. you brought your blade down on his leg, and he howled.

taking this chance, you ripped the blindfold off and made eye contact with the person in front you, some ragged looking person who could be in his late 30s.

"disgusting." you spat as he held his leg, tears streaming down his face. you saw no weapon on him, and you weren't going to wait around for someone else to come along and attack you.

you got up, getting rope and tying his wrists together, doing what he and his men didn't do to you, and you knew he wasn't going to be walking anywhere anytime soon. you put the blindfold around his mouth and held a finger up to your lips.

"you should be more fucking quiet like a good boy." you stood up, running out the room with your gun to the commotion coming from the front of the house.

peering out from a corner to make sure you weren't going to run out into a bunch of bullets, you saw a familiar man with a mask, and four men on the floor, one in the grasp of who you never expected to see.

"nice to see you're alive, rookie." ghost said as the man he carried crumpled to the ground.

"rookie?" you raised an eyebrow, only to realize he couldn't see you do that since half of your face was covered.

"got a mask of your own?" he walked up to you, and he still had so much height over you, looking down at you as you looked up.

"personally, i think mine is much cooler. it looks better on me." you laughed.

"shadow, you there?"

"nice call sign, shadow," ghost let the name roll of his tongue and your cheeks heated up.

pressing a button, you responded.

"i'm here, price. is this your little surprise?"

"couldn't stop him from going. he was eager to retrieve you."

you shot a questioning look at simon, who wasn't looking at you anymore, but instead looking if anyone else was in the house.

"what are you even doing here?" you asked ghost.

"well, i came to help you guys find someone for your next mission, but i think you already found him," he pointed behind you, and you turned to see the piece of shit crawling over to the two of you. how he even made it this far was beyond you, using his soldiers to propel himself forward.

"this fucking bitch?" you scoffed.

"i see the two of you already met," he noted the stab wound in the man's leg and the rope around his wrists.

"you wouldn't believe what he wanted to do with me."

ghost narrowed his eyes.

"he wanted to do something with you?"

"how else do you think i'm alive right now?"

"sheer will. i heard you've gotten good at close combat." ghost went over to the man and crouched over, and the guy looked up in terror.

"what the fuck should we do with you?" he hummed.

"do we have to bring him back alive?" you asked. you would not hesitate to lift your gun and shoot him.

ghost didn't respond, instead going back over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder that made you jump in surprise. the last time you were this close was when he was taking debris out your arm on that first mission.

"do whatever you want. we don't need him."

you grinned. "yes, lieutenant."

☆☆.

you were happy to be back on the base. that was probably the biggest stroke of luck you've ever had, being captured by the stupidest enemies you've ever seen, and by so few of them being at the house with you.

price was happy to see you back, and presented the prize you already knew about.

"aren't you happy to see ghost?"

"beyond elated. i'm currently pissing my pants of joy right now." the sentence might've sounded sarcastic, but you broke out into a huge smile.

looking over at ghost, you saw his eyes had a glimmer of amusement in them.

"i'll be in the other room. come over if you need me,"

you took off your balaclava and tactical vest and weapons as soon as you got in the room, sitting down on the cot. as soon as you swung your legs up and laid down to take a short nap, a rapid series of knocks sounded at the door.

you groaned, going over to open it to reveal ghost.

"simon?"

"can i come in?" he said gruffly.

you gestured for him to make his way in, and you shut the door.

"anything you want, lieutenant?" you emphasized his rank, still remembering the first time the two of you met.

"you ever gonna show me some respect, shadow?"

you held a hand to your heart, letting out a dramatic gasp. "me? not showing you respect? let me apologize."

you could see his eyes roll.

"since you seem like you were going to take a nap, i want to do some close combat with you. need to see how good you got since you were a rookie." it sounded less of an invitation and more of a demand.

"you asking me as a superior or am i allowed to decline?" you put your hands on your hips, tilting your head.

"are you really going to say no?"

"absolutely not. anything to fucking beat your ass."

☆☆.

the two of you were lying on the floor, and you were sweating. hard.

"thought you were better with guns, simon." you exhaled.

"thought you were better at hand-to-hand combat," he retorted.

you glared at him. "i will pulverize your ass."

he didn't reply, and you took the chance to get up and make him get up also.

"one more. whoever wins gets bragging rights."

"bragging rights?" he questioned, but you already began throwing punches and attempting to get him to fall.

he blocked majority of them, but you didn't let him have a chance to get offensive, instead opting to simply go for his waist and push him to the floor, with you attached. this led to you bear hugging his waist, your face in his chest.

you accidentally took a huge inhale through your nose, and you could smell him. he smelled like gunpowder, dust, and. . . wood?

"are you fucking sniffing me, y/n?"

"well, i'm fucking breathing, aren't i?" you could feel him attempt to flip you over but you kept yourself grounded.

"fucking christ. check where your legs are at." ghost groaned, and you peered down to see your leg against. . .

"holy shit, i'm so fucking sorry," ghost took this opportunity to successfully flip you over, and now you were pinned down again. for the second time today, too.

the space between you too was so small, and you could feel his body pressing on yours. your breathing sped up at the distance.

you've been infatuated with the masked man ever since you met him, never being able to forget those moments you had with him. those times you got to work with him, which was barely, had you cherishing those memories of him.

price obviously caught on, which was why he was calling ghost a prize. a prize you were happy to get today.

ghost could tell the look on your face with your half-lidded eyes and parted lips.

he leaned even closer.

"something wrong?" you could hear the smirk.

"fuck off," you turned your face to the side.

"look at me." you immediately went back to glare at him, but you couldn't with how close you were. "i asked you a question."

"nothing's wrong, ghost."

"so if i checked your heartbeat, it would be normal?"

"you trying to touch me, lieutenant?"

"so what if i am?" you had no response to that, opening and closing your mouth, trying to find the words to represent how you were feeling.

the two of you stayed in silence, just like usual, until you broke it.

"can i kiss you?" you murmured.

"close your eyes." you did as he said, and heard the sound of his mask being pulled up, followed by the feeling of his lips pressing against yours. he didn't let go off you wrists, leaving you to have to lean forward to return the kiss.

you kissed as if you had been thinking about this for years, which you had, and he kissed as if this was something that his life depended on. something that he's needed and has been craving desperately.

you never opened your eyes, waiting for the moment he decides to show you himself on his own terms. besides, doesn't it add to the mystery?

he pulled away much quicker than you wanted him to, pouting. you heard him as he slipped his mask back on and told you to open your eyes.

"sorry gorgeous. remember, i'm too pretty to be showing you my face. might dazzle you too much."

you laughed.

"i'm always ready to be dazzled by you, simon. you've dazzled me since the moment we met."

"oh really? you like it when guys insult you?"

"makes me feel like i've done something." you accepted the hand he held out to help you up as he stood.

"definitely have done something to me," he spoke to himself.

you grinned. seems like you both can dazzle people.

☆☆.

i absolutely despise this. i apologize sm

tags !!

@urfavsunkissedleo @shyyxzi

[friendsyoyo]

gettin intuitive

psychic headcanon babble for the mother 1 crew (aka just ninten and ana) because i figure someone out there is interested

i preface this with the knowledge that MOTHER 1 has the most mentions of PSI in the narrative out of the three games (mother 3 can be semi-debated). that ALSO BEING SAID, these are children and i don’t think they have god tier abilities. this ain’t the x-men—in fact the closest kid you got to Jean Grey is 11 years old. so this is just for fun

ninten

moves-wise: i love you ninten but you suck compared to everyone else. in fact, he doesn’t like that people are much better at PSI than him (especially not some girl he just met!). maybe he goes through a phase where he tries to improve, but it’s just not in his nature (or attention span) to do so. that being said, everyone’s cooked without him thanks to his prowess in assist PSI. sure, he can’t light people on fire, but he can make sure your next frying pan swing hurts bad. the added benefit of escaping into the fourth dimension is something that makes him very unique (or in teddy's words, "a one-trick pony") and makes him brag a bit, because what is ninten if not prideful? it’s not too bad though, because it’s dorky! there’s a childish glee to it, like a kid doing a cartwheel in front of his parents. even lloyd admits it makes ninten look lame, but “he’s not one to talk” either. like ana, he does possess telepathy, but this is the one ability i hc him to surpass her in. i really do think that with given time, he could be a very strong telepath! i think of telepathy as a spectrum rather than “transmitter and receiver” because the characters do portray differing levels of what they can do; basic communication with animals being on the lower end to near omnipotence on the highest extreme. ninten is no god for sure, but based on what we see in the game and novels, he “receives” more than he “transmits,” which can lead to very disorienting conversations. it’s an added level of hyper-vigilance he must deal with, but at least it's helpful in combat and against police officers. i wouldn’t say it’s textbook telepathy angst, but more like “can you shut the fuck up right now im trying to think” when no one has uttered a word in the past 2 minutes. too much at once leads to snappy responses, unintentionally looking daggers at someone, and unbridled rage when fighting lamps. he's best left alone in times like this. he gets tuckered out easily, bc thinkin's a lot of work. world's eepiest boy after massive boss fights

ana

like i said, she ain’t jean grey. buuuut, if i had to rank the most powerful psychics in the mother series, she’d be third to kumatora + her family and giegue. she is very disciplined in everything she does, only using it in dire or noble situations like her parents taught her to. in the game, she has a very good relationship with both her parents and religion, which is unlike many headcanons i tend to see.

they were both very involved, which led to her having near perfect control at such a young age. her father would preach about the responsibility she carries (because, yknow, great power) while her mother would find the best way to not let her skills go unmanaged. she starts off with precise telekinesis, fast healing LifeUp β, and manageable telepathy, but when she’s away from home and begins to learn more intense and formidable abilities, ana feels completely lost and shocked to her core. she hates violence, especially when she must enact it herself. with each new power she awakens, she feels a sense of betrayal towards her parents, wondering if she is straying from their teachings. worst of all, she fears over reliance on them the way ninten is (teleporting like it's no ones business). therefore, ana is very psychically repressed and mentally limits herself from the use of offensive PSI outside of battle.

she eventually realizes that although she didn't choose to be born with these abilities, they are a part of her and "God's plan." as long as there is someone to protect, she finds solace in being able to use them for the greater good.

i have so much more to say but it's 2:51 am and i feel like this post is a bit too long now. remember to hit that like button and subscribe