#Domestic Recruitment Training

[thewildwaffle]

Friend Shaped

The professor clacked his beak sharply three times in the front of the room. The students, around 40 individuals, and many species from across the galactic arm hushed almost immediately. “Welcome back, class. The day for your first planet-side mission to Nemulon 3 is fast approaching, and we've still got a lot of safety training to cover, so let's get started.” The professor stepped aside to allow a projection to display against the board behind him. A picture of a blue, green, and gray planet shone brightly against the dark tapestry of space. Nemulon 3 had been discovered deca-orbits ago but offered a wide variety of biomes that were the perfect blend of challenging and safe to train new recruits to the Galactic Alliance’s Exploration Fleet. “Today we're covering some alien fauna you may encounter while conducting exploratories. Most are small enough that they won't pose much of an issue, but we do have a few category 5 lifeforms that you need to be aware of.” The display behind the professor changed from an image of Nemulon 3 from orbit to a chart topped by 5 images with their respective labels: karindru, oold, dini-dini, barintuna, and great lavalen. Before the professor could start in on the next part of his lecture, a voice spoke out from the middle of the classroom.“That looks like a dog.” The professor stood with his beak half open. He was certainly not used to being interrupted, let alone this early in the lesson. “A what?” He finally choked out. There was a pause as if the offending student was thinking better about drawing more attention to themselves before slowly putting their hand up in the air. It was a human. Cadet Valentina, if the attendance role had been accurate. “I said it… it looks like a dog.” Human Valentina inhaled as if gathering the courage to say more. “They're a carnivorous canine species on earth that humans domesticated thousands of cycles ago and selectively bred to be pets.” The professor’s beak closed with a snap and some of the features near the base of his neck ruffled slightly. “Nemulon 3 is 47 light years away from Earth. Any similarities between each planet’s fauna is purely coincidental, a product of parallel evolution.” The human bowed her head and said nothing else, so the professor continued. “Now, for many of you of larger stature, a single karindru might not pose much of a threat, but their real danger comes from their numbers. They live, travel, and hunt in packs. Thankfully, their method of communicating with each other in their packs are quite loud, so you will hear them long before you see them, and hopefully, before they see you. Typically you’ll hear anything from yipping, chirping, and howling.” “Kind of like coyotes.” The professor stopped and stared at the human again, feathers ruffling once again. “Another kind of canine species back home,” Valentina offered quietly. If the professor was capable of growling, he might have been tempted to at that moment. Instead, he sighed slowly. “I can assure you, trying to get close to these will likely end with your injury or death.” “Well, that's what ancient humans thought about wolves too, but then we bred them into dogs and now they’re our best friends.” “Karindru are not, nor are any native creatures on this planet, your friend. Not now, not ever.” The professor turned sharply back to the board. The entire class was dead silent. Few even dared to breathe. It was quiet enough, in fact, to hear the human mumble under their breath, “If not friend, then why friend-shaped?”

The human was promptly given detention and assigned extra homework of writing “I will not try to domesticate any native fauna on Nemulon 3” one hundred times by hand.

[samcvrpenters]

imagine vi and caitlyn who have been together for a while now. they’ve looked after one another, took care of wounds in fights, healed each other from whatever atrocity has plagued their minds, and now they’re just domestic with each other, not having to talk about caitlyn’s cold command over piltover or vi’s addiction with pit—fighting.

you roll into their lives like you’re meant to be there, one of the few zaunites who had been recruited to join the enforcers— one of the few who can actually respect both cities and allow yourself to speak kindly of both.

caitlyn takes the time to get to know you. after all, she still has the right to stroll into training and she sees you almost all of the time, spear in hand and rival opponent on the floor, showing your victory off to the ex—commander of the enforcers.

she helps you with it, too. shows you how to improve your technique. wraps her hands around your arms and guides you.

she tells vi all about you, and now she wants to meet you. of course she does. her girlfriend keeps talking about some woman who joined the enforcers and she wants to know what’s got caitlyn so hung up about it.

vi visits you, and of course she understands what’s going on in caitlyn’s mind. you’re perfect. pretty. you have allure and she knows why you’ve been dragging caitlyn into you— because she feels it too.

and now both of them are coming up with a plan to keep you to themselves. it’s your fault, really.

not theirs.

[happypopcornprincess]

Chapter 1 || I Can See You

Pairings - Joaquin Torres X fem!Reader

Premise - At a glamorous gala, Y/N's life intertwines with Joaquin's. A pact ensues, while a dangerous mission looms.

Word Count - 4.5K

Warnings: SMUT, Angst, Mentions of blood, domestic violence

a/n - This story is based between the events of Endgame and Brave New World. In this AU, Tony Stark survived and the New characters of the MCU are on the way to be the new recruits of the Avengers. Hope you guys like this <3

Series Masterlist || Chapter 2 >>

Avengers Compound, Post Endgame

If it wasn’t for Pepper to quite literally threaten you to attend her Annual Charity Gala, you wouldn’t even be here. The atmosphere around you was straight out of some high society drama. The grey walls of the newly reconstructed avengers compound were covered in silver tones, a huge silver chandelier hanging in the middle of the hall, there was laughter in the air, and everyone was dressed to the nines. 

Just how a party was supposed to be… when the host was the one and only Pepper Potts. Tony was there too, even though his hand was still recovering from the snap, but he was cheery and loud as always.

You sipped your champagne in silence, standing far away from the dance floor. 

You were chosen by Sam from MIT to help the Avengers. You had trained with the new recruits, Kate, Peter… They were good kids. Training with them was… well, it was something. Sam was great, and helped you all adjust. Honestly, the Avengers? They were intimidating. superhuman intimidating. But you had your strengths. Sharpshooting was always your thing. And you threw yourself into the training, every single bit of it. They told you it was for intel missions, to keep you out of direct harm's way. But that wasn't enough. You wanted more. Because you were not aiming for 'safe.' 

You were aiming to be an Avenger.

Your job was to figure out how Kingpin just vanished into thin air after Christmas. The task has taken over your daily routine after you met Kate Bishop. It’s been months of interviewing eyewitnesses, going on the streets undercover, nights of no sleep with a shit ton of coffee, and just when you think you’re about to solve it… you meet a dead end.

“Trying to hide behind the curtains again are we y/n?” Bucky’s voice made you look to your right, and there he was. Standing next to you wearing a sharp three-piece black suit, his hair slicked back.

You finally understood what Steve meant when he would say girls back then would throw themselves at Bucky.

He turned to you in disgust, “Are you checking me out?”

“You wish, asshole.” You mutter in your glass.

You and Bucky had developed an unlikely friendship after the blip bought him back. He was pardoned, and moved into a quaint apartment complex deep in the city, unknown to the fact that you lived right next to his place.

On a stormy night after the nightmares won’t let you both sleep, sharing one bottle of whiskey between you was all it took for you to spill your life to him. You have turned into each other’s best friends and occasional love life advisor, although it was kind of a package deal.

Which is why you knew the reason he was so dressed up for the first time since you met.

“You see Sam anywhere?” he asks you nonchalantly.

You give him a sly smirk, “Why? Can’t wait to shove your tongue down his throat?”

Bucky gives you a sideward glance, and goes back to looking at the crowd.

He was still figuring out his feelings towards both men and women, especially towards one man.

Returning from the Flag Smashers situation, he would not shut up how ‘annoying’ and ‘frustratingly righteous’ Sam Wilson is, how his smirk makes him want to ‘strangle’ him.

You asked him one evening if he was having a ‘full-on-bi-panic’ and he threw a pillow at your face.

“y/n! there you are!” Sam bellows as he walks towards the two of you, wearing a crisp grey suit over a white button up, looking as dapper as always.

“Sam!” you laugh, giving him a tight hug. He was your mentor, someone you looked up to. And hopefully your bestie’s future boyfriend.

“You look absolutely gorgeous!” he threw you one of his classic smiles as he retreated.

You look down to the pastel pink knee length dress you were wearing.

Hustling the life of an avenger straight out of MIT, it was the only dress you owned. And after paying for it out of your own pocket you realize fancy dresses cost a hand and a leg, and you refuse to part from it.

“Thank you Sam I-” you were about to thank him but stopped once you noticed him absolutely gawking at Bucky.

“Hey Bucky.” He smiled.

“Hey Sam.” Bucky gave him a nod.

You almost roll your eyes at the exchange, wondering when they will move on from the weird talking phase.

“Hello.”

An angelic voice interrupted your train of thoughts. Looking away your eyes meet a pair of the warmest brown eyes. He was standing behind Sam. A tall, tan-skinned man, wearing a crisp black suit stood in front of you. His curls fell on his forehead, and his smile was intoxicating.

He looked like a high surf tide; calling out for you to test the waters.

You extend your right hand, smiling at him. “Hey, I’m y/n”

He held it with his right, it made your heart race when he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles, his hands warm and his lips soft, sending a jolt through your body.

Oh, he’s mischief alright!

You were left speechless when he straightened, a smirk thrown out your way as Sam spoke up, “This is the guy I told y’all about! Lt. Joaquin Torres.” He slapped a hand on Joaquin’s back, smiling with pride.

“And this is y/n y/l/n, fresh transfer from MIT. She’s our tech genius, and a walking journal on film recommendations.”

Laughter followed as your eyes couldn’t help but stay trained on Joaquin. Thinking back on the time when Sam told the team about the new Falcon joining them after a while, you somehow manage to speak up at that moment, “Welcome to the circus.” You take a deliberately long sip of your float, never breaking eye contact.

He gulped nervously, eyes wide, clearly startled by you flirting. 

“You haven’t had a drink yet Lieutenant? Let’s get you something.” you smile involuntarily.

He stands back for you to lead the way, “Sure. And it’s just Joaquin, please.” he laughs just after, his honey laced voice paired with your tad bit hazy mind doing wonders to your imagination.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/--/-

“Wait a minute…” you smiled, “you cannot possibly think Love Actually is better than The Holiday?”

They keep watchful eyes on us

So it's best that we move fast and keep quiet

You won't believe half the things I see inside my head

Wait 'til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet

“It’s the perfect rom com!” Joaquin laughs, “it covered basically every rom com trope under the sun.”

“But, listen to me, but…” you say, your slightly tipsy self leaning on the wall behind you, as Joaquin stood in front of you, holding his own glass of whiskey, “Quantity never matters in front of quality. All characters in The Holiday are well written with meaningful backgrounds and great character redemption arcs. And it’s got Jude Law.”

Joaquin raises his hands, “Jude Law.”

“Jude Law.” you laugh, at how he was mocking a defeated pose.

“When Sam told me I can’t lose a movie debate with you, I couldn’t believe him.”

You try to curtsey, “thank you.”

“Wanna get out of here?” Joaquin blurted out abruptly.

It took you a while to gain your consciousness, and a laugh left your lips at what he just said. You saw his eyes traveling to your lips, and how his breath fastened as you took a deliberately long sip of your drink.

You smirked, “sure.”

—/—/—

You find yourself sneaking through the backdoor and upstairs towards the living quarters of the Avengers compound as you drag Joaquin by his coat as you slip into an unassigned room. The furniture was still uncovered, but there was a couch in a corner right next to the opened windows where moonlight pooled in.

Perfect.

The alcohol surging through your system gives you newfound courage, and seconds later Joaquin was being thrown on the couch by you. His pupils dilated, his gaze trained on you and his scent lingering in the air, you straddled him without hesitation.

 “Are you good?” His breathy voice went straight to your core, and without a word you crashed your lips on his.

He’s gonna be the death of me.

The taste of expensive champagne hit your mouth, Joaquin’s tongue slipping in your mouth sliding in with fervor. Your gasp is swallowed by his lips, his hands travelling south towards the zipper of your dress.

Your hands fumble with his coat, taking it off of him and raising his shirt just enough to slide your hands underneath. Warm, toned muscles met your hands, and the way he sucked your lips made you forget everything. You couldn’t breathe, but couldn’t move away from him either, entirely lost in taking him in.

Joaquin jerked back all of a sudden, making you whine.

“Wait, wait…” He breathed out, his breath cooling your skin.

“Just kiss me.” You exhaled, grabbing his tie to pull him in, but he leaned back.

Joaquin gently held your wrists, “y/n… hey, look at me,” he breathlessly said, “look at me for a second.”

You do, at his messy hair, puffy lips, and blown out pupils.

He holds out his hand, “how many fingers am I holding up.”

You scrunch your brows in confusion, eyes drifting to his fingers in front of your face. You get the tunnel vision every time you’ve had a bit too much whiskey, you see double.

Concentrating hard on your answer, you slur out, “four?”

Joaquin closes his eyes, looking up and huffing out a breath, “you’re very drunk.” You feel his hands on your waist, and he carefully sits you down on the couch next to him.

You whine at the loss of his touch as he gets up from the couch. He returns a minute later with a bottle of water, sitting next to you and making you drink the entire thing.

“Can we go back to the part where you kiss me until I forget my name?” you breathe out.

Joaquin laughs out, settling down next to you and leaning back on the couch. You straighten your dress, and sit with your shoulders touching. You steal a glance his way.

His coat was gone, his tie hung loose on his neck, his white button shirt straining on his arms…

Someone works out…

The faint moonlight hitting from behind him made the outline of the veins on his neck visible.

I want to lick it...

You scrunch your eyes as soon as you hear that inside your head.

Wow, he’s right, I am drunk.

“As much as I’d like to do that,” he looks your way, “I can’t. You’re very drunk.”

A smile itches on your face, and you ask, “so what should we do then?”

“Talk?” he suggests, turning to you, resting his head on the backrest and looking you right in your eyes. “I know nothing about you. You know nothing about me. Let’s talk.”

You laugh out loud, “okay,” the smile refusing to leave your face, “what do you want to know?”

“Anything.” he says with a warm smile on his face.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

You wake up in an unfamiliar room and a blinding headache, on a mattress too soft for your liking, the sunlight hitting your face with full force.

Grunting, you sit up, rubbing your forehead.

Something slips off your body, and you look down and find someone has covered you with a black suit coat while you slept.

The man with the warm eyes and gentle touch.

You laugh, rubbing your head at the absurdity of the situation.

You wear it over your dress and walk out of the room, after last night’s party everybody would be sleeping in. You can sneak out unnoticed.

You swiftly call an uber, and shove your hands inside the pockets of Joaquin’s coat.

The feel of rough paper makes you stop in your tracks, you take it out of the pocket to see a torn piece of labeling paper inside, a note greeting you.

-/-/-/-/-/-

9546-555-6783

See you soon, I guess?

(Take care of my coat till then? It’s my favorite suit.)

-         Joaquin

Joaquin joined the team a week later. He chose to stay on the compound, and soon blended in with the new avengers. Peter and Kate grew especially fond of him. When Shang-Chi joined the ranks, he, too, was welcomed into your close-knit circle.

You brush past me in the hallway

And you don't think I, I, I can see ya, do ya?

I’ve been watchin' you for ages

And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it

You spared during training, made breakfast together, had constant debates on cinema and stories. He loved the classics, and you had a nick for science fiction. You should have cancelled out each other, but your differences only made your bond stronger. The differences weren't a barrier; they were a bridge. You shared tech skills learned during your time at  MIT, revealing the details of coding and circuits. In return, he shared practical knowledge from his air force background; survival techniques and tactical strategies.

Your apartment, though smaller than the compound's common areas, became the gathering spot for your group. Lazy weekends of your teams were spent at your place, you'd watch old movies, host game nights, and then collapse on any available surface.

Peter had a habit of entering your apartment through your window, and Kate never got used to it. Takeout was a foreign concept with your friends. Instead, Shang-Chi and Joaquin would take over the kitchen, making a mouth watering combination of asian food and mexican food, that could best possibly win them masterchef if they ever could.

These people, this band of young individuals navigating life… they became your chosen family. They were your support system, your confidantes, your partners in crime.

No one seemed to notice the stolen glances, the lingering touches, the quiet conversations that stretched late into the night. Or perhaps they did notice, and simply didn't care. 

-/-/-/-/-/-

Clouds grumbled above, as angry raindrops splattered on your apartment window. You were sitting on your couch with three devices settled in front of you: a laptop and two tablets running algorithms and analytics for locating kingpin. Kate had gathered intel that he still had someone in the states giving him updates and keeping him safe. But where?

But what would you do if I went to touch you now?

What would you do if they never found us out?

What would you do if we never made a sound?

That was a question you were determined to get answers to. Which is why you had made it your mission to get to the base of this.

Amidst the thunderous rain outside, you hear a knock on the door, and from the corner of your eye you witness Joaquin enter, carrying takeout containers.

“You’ll have to use the fork for the noodles, I just ran out of chopsticks!” you shout, without even looking at his direction.

“Y/n” Joaquin huffed out in frustration, “please tell me you didn’t ‘sense’ Thai food from me.”

“I did.” you laugh, looking at the bewildered Joaquin standing in your kitchen. He had jeans and a sleeveless gym shirt on. Involuntarily your eyes went to his toned arms, and you did a quick diversion of your thoughts to the TV.

”I come bearing sustenance. Chow Mein and Thai green curry, extra spicy, just how you like it.” he says, followed by the scrunching of the takeout container.

You sit up straighter with a smile itching on your lips, your favorite food just when you were low on inspiration. “You're a lifesaver, these logistics are killing me.”

Joaquin sets the containers on the coffee table. He sits next to you, close enough that your thighs brush. He huffs out, “Tell me about it. Sam's been drilling us on contingency plans all day. I swear, he's got a backup plan for the backup plan.”

You laugh, “That's Sam for you. Always prepared.”

You open the containers, the aroma of the curry filling the room, and digging into the food in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“You got something on your…” Joaquin speaks, and you look at him with a particularly big bite in your mouth. 

“Hmm?” you mutter.”

He reaches out and gently wipes a bit of sauce from the corner of your mouth. The gesture is intimate, lingering a moment too long. If you don’t count your sparring training, this was the closest you had been since ‘that’ night at the charity gala. Your hands grab his arm on their own.

It feels… good. Too good. It's been so long since anyone touched you like this. Desired you. Like you mattered. Like you weren't just… a disappointment. You… you want this. You want him. 

But what if you mess it up? What if you push him away, like you did with… 

Your heart almost leapt out of your chest as he gently cupped your face in his hands, your gaze locked on his warm brown eyes. He leaned in towards your lips, a silent question in his expression. You paused, a flicker of hesitation crossing your face, and gently pulled back.

He too leaned back, respecting your space. The tension remained, but now it carried a hint of gentle inquiry.

Looking down, you fidgeted with your hands, "It's not that I don't… I just… we need to be sure about this." You huffed out in frustration, trying to articulate your tangled thoughts.

"I want you," he stated, his voice low and sincere. You looked up at him instantly, his pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. "I want you in ways you can't imagine, y/n. And I will walk out of here right now if you don't want this. We can forget this ever happened."

Thunder roared in the skies above, and lightning illuminated his face through the window as he paused, his expression open and honest. "But," he gulped, his eyes searching yours, "if you do want this… then…"

He left the rest unsaid, giving you the space to make your own choice.

Your internal conflict finally tipped towards action.

Oh, fuck this… 

His words were lost as soon as you crashed your lips on his.

—/—/—

You stumbled into your room, Joaquin’s lips didn’t leave yours as he threw the two of you on the bed. Pulling you under him, his hands were everywhere. Your mind could only catch up with a few, as it was too busy taking in all of him.

Joaquin made you feel like your entire body was on fire. Your hands flew straight to his hair, a moan leaving his lips. You did quick work on his clothes, leaving him in his boxers as he got busy removing yours.

No words were exchanged as he moved low, kissing and sucking your skin in all the places that made your vision hazy. You could only whine and gasp as he grabbed your legs and rested them on his shoulders.

And then he stopped.

You look down to see a mischievous grin plastered on his face, his pupils blown wide.

“Joaquin…” you breathe out, “stop teasing me.”

His eyes darken as he let out a low murmur against your skin and without warning dived in, a loud moan leaving your lips as pleasure rushed through your body.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

“So… what is this?” you ask, lying next to him covered in sweat, panting. You rolled away next to him, completely exhausted from your acts that lasted three blissful hours.

And I could see you being my addiction

You can see me as a secret mission

“You’re asking this now?” he mutters, eyes fixed at the ceiling. “I’m pretty sure fraternizing between teammates is not allowed here.” He groans.

You close your eyes, trying to think about if that rule existed among the Avengers. As far as you knew nobody was involved with each other here. “We can be friends.” You suggest.

“What!” you feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to him leaning over you.

 “No, just… think about it.” You shift to lean on the headboard, gathering the sheets to cover your chest, “you’re new to the team.”

Joaquin takes a pillow to cover himself and sits cross-legged in front of you, “okay.”

You stop for a second, staring at his abs.

Y/n stop it! Focus!

“We can’t just go ahead and announce that we’re sleeping together, or dating. They will never let us live this down. Especially Bucky. And Kate. Maybe Sam…” You state, matter of factly.

“Wait, wait! Stop!” he gestures, eyebrows scrunched, “You want to date me?”

“No! I don’t like you like that!” almost scream out, “do you wanna date me?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then I don’t see a problem with… this!” You throw out your hands.

“What is this exactly?” Joaquin pointed between you two.

You groan, “ugh, you’re as thick as it gets!” You adjust the sheets around your body to free your hands, “what did you think of me the first time you saw me?”

“At the gala? Huh…” he thinks, “That you have the prettiest smile.” he shocks you with the last part, but then he adds on, “also you looked hot in that pink dress.”

There we go.

“Well, I thought you had a great voice, and your eyes were really pretty.” You truthfully admit, “also you looked like trouble… and I have a thing for bad boys.”

“I’m twenty-five.”

“Whatever.”

“You swear you don’t want anything other than sex with me?” he asks you.

You nod, “Yeah. You?”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

“Okay!”

Joaquin gets up from his place, picking up his boxers and putting them on, “So just to be clear… we’re friends.”

“Yep!” you catch your sweatshirt that he throws your way.

He puts on his shirt next, “With benefits.”

“Absolutely.” You say, debating whether you should get up the bed or not, exhaustion rolling over your senses.

“And you promise you won’t fall in love with me.” He points to you.

“Oh please, if anything you’ll be falling first.” You say through a yawn.

Joaquin laughs putting on his pants, “well, I’m gonna go get something to eat. You want something?”

“Do you mind if I take a nap? I’m tired.” You grimace.

He smiles at you, “Go ahead.”

You fall back on the bed, as you hear his footsteps going away… the sweet embrace of sleep following you next.

—/—/—

Few weeks later

Your place or mine?

Your screen lit up with the message from Joaquin. You smirked

Yours? In an hour? You press send, and let out a laugh as you see the blue tick instantly.

Done.

Before you could ask him the reason he got so worked up, you hear F.R.I.D.A.Y’s automated voice - Scan. Complete.

A low hum filled the operations center as you meticulously analyzed the fragmented data streams scanned by F.R.I.D.A.Y. Dozens of photographs presented infront of you but your eyes instantly locked in on one in particular. Your focus narrowed on a grainy image emerging from the static. 

Broad shoulders, crisply pressed suit, gold rings on the fingers… could it be…

“Y/n!” Kate and Peter shout in unison as you slapped a stack of files on the kitchen table. Sam, Bucky, Shang Chi, Joaquin, all who were just about to eat, whipped their heads towards the commotion.

“I think I've found him,” you announced, pointing to the figure.

Sam and Bucky shared a look, and rushed towards you as you opened up a holographic display on your tab. Joaquin and you share a look, he was amused, a small smile on his face letting you know he was excited for what you found out, you smirked and quickly look away trying to focus on the scene infront of you.

“All this time I was searching for him here… but…” Cross-referencing facial recognition, thermal readings, and satellite data, you enlarged a section of the display, revealing a stark desert landscape. “The terrain, the temperature… it all points to one place... Mexico.”

A collective sense of surprise filled the room. 

'Mexico?' Peter questioned, 'What's he doing down there?' 

You zoomed in on a satellite image, enhanced thermal readings revealing a network of hidden structures. 'I don’t know, but he's planning something,' you stated, a sense of urgency creeping into your voice. 'Something big.' The implications hung heavy in the air. 

“This changes everything.” You nodded, your gaze fixed on the display. 'We need to move fast.”

Series Masterlist || Chapter 2 >>

A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Next Chapter will be up soon... Love y'all, Take Care!

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[niiwa-angel]

Things humans have learned about Cybertronians just by being around them.

~~~

If you hear numbers at the end of a bots name, they're in deep trouble. Bumblebee-127 or Wheeljack-215 or anything of the like from Optimus, Rachet, or Ultra Magnus means that they are in serious trouble. If you see said robot running past like a bat out of hell, you know hell has broken loose wherever they're coming from.

~~~

If some of the lower ranked bits get into a scrap and Rachet or Ultra Magnus scolds then, they're just being annoying. If Optimus Prime steps in, they're in trouble. He doesn't even give them a verbal warning, he'll just grab them and pull them apart.

~~~

Despite the fact that they're trained soldiers, sometimes they forget to use their bio scanners. That's how Mirage ended up hiding from some mannequins, waiting for them to move along.

~~~

They are capable of feeling 'human' emotions. Sad, happy, excited, lonely, angry, etc. they just sometimes show it differently.

~~~

They are very big and therefore, kind of clumsy. They aren't breaking anything on purpose (at least not often) but sometimes they don't see things near their feet.

~~~

They have learned 'human' pass times and try to partake with varying degrees of success. Mirage, Bumblebee, and Arcee learned humans dig holes for fun so they went and dug a hole. They then needed to fill it in because it was a hazard. Sometimes they'll break into teams of two for tug of war, that means all humans need to stay the fuck out of the way because they are competitive. The younger boys aren't allowed to play any game of catch because they're so competitive and knock over trees, fences, and vehicles.

~~~

They're like cats in the sense that very few of them actually like swimming/being in the water. They CAN swim/be in water but they don't like to be.

~~~

No human should take medical advice from Rachet, he barely understands human biology.

~~~

Cybertronians did have pets back on Cybertron and some of them have tried to have pets on Earth. The issue is they don't really understand the line between a domesticated animal and a wild animal. They also have the issue of being too big for typical cats and dogs.

Bumblebee, carrying a very angry jaguar in his hands.

Optimus: No! Put it back.

Bumblebee, through the radio: What's new pussycat whoaaa-ao-ohhh!

Optimus: I said no. The human say that isn't a pet, it eats them.

Bumblebee: 😞

~~~

Humans doing weird things freaks them out. Things like contortionists, fire breathers/eaters, people who are double jointed, and slight of hand magicians freak them out. They don't like it. A new recruit showed Mirage a disappearing coin trick thinking he'd like it only for him to flip shit.

[aventurineswife]

Hey I just had an adorable idea from the anime tadaima okaeri, specifically the ending of episode 3, where the main characters discovered they were going to have a second child because of their first born, so I was wondering how would the wuthering waves men would react to this kind of situation

“And So We Begin”

Tags: Jiyan x Reader, Xiangli Yao x Reader, Calcharo x Reader, Fluff, Family, Parenthood, Growing Family Lighthearted, Emotional, Tender Moments, Domestic, Supportive Partners.

The evening breeze drifted through the open window as you sat with your husband, Jiyan, enjoying a rare moment of quiet. His piercing eyes softened as he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. It was a rare day when the General of the Midnight Rangers could stay home, away from the endless battle against the Tacet Discords.

"Renny, Daddy, look!" A young child burst into the room, their small ponytail bouncing behind them. They clutched a crudely drawn picture in their tiny hands, the paper slightly crumpled from their enthusiasm.

Jiyan smiled, the rare expression lighting up his face. "What's this?" he asked, pulling them onto his lap.

They giggled, showing him the picture. "It’s me and Renny and Daddy… and the baby!"

Your heart skipped a beat, and Jiyan froze for a moment. His sharp instincts as a leader rarely allowed him to be caught off guard, but this was different. He looked at you with a mix of shock and wonder, his gaze silently asking for confirmation.

You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. "They’re right. We’re going to have another baby."

For a moment, Jiyan simply stared at you, his composure cracking into an expression of pure emotion. He wrapped his arms around both you and the child, holding you tightly. "A second child… another light in this world," he murmured.

Though the battles ahead were uncertain, the thought of your growing family filled Jiyan with renewed determination. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, whispering, "We’ll protect them—both of them. I promise."

Xiangli adjusted his glasses, glancing at the complex machinery sprawled across his desk. You stood nearby, carrying a small plate of snacks to coax him away from his endless tinkering. The child, full of curiosity, sat at his feet, poking at wires and gears with a stick.

"Papa," the child chirped suddenly, holding up a blueprint. "This baby machine you’re making is cool, but why not make one for our baby instead?"

Xiangli paused, his hands freezing mid-motion. He looked down at them, his usual calm expression replaced by a flicker of surprise. "Baby? What do you mean?"

They grinned, climbing into your lap as you settled beside them. "Because Renny said I’m going to be a big sibling soon!"

You stifled a laugh, gently ruffling the child's hair. "Well, I guess the little genius beat me to it," you said, glancing at Xiangli.

His eyes widened slightly, and then a rare, genuine smile crossed his face. He placed his tools aside and moved to sit beside you. "A big sibling, huh?" he murmured, his hand resting on your stomach. His Resonance glimmered faintly, as if reacting to the energy of the life within.

Xiangli met your gaze, his voice soft. "I’ll have to design something truly extraordinary—a cradle that resonates with the stars." He chuckled, pressing a tender kiss to your temple. "Thank you—for everything. Our family is growing, and it’s more than I ever dreamed of."

The Ghost Hounds' base was unusually quiet tonight, the shadows cast by flickering lanterns dancing across the walls. You stood at the edge of the training grounds, watching your husband, Calcharo, spar with a group of recruits. His long hair swayed as he moved with lethal precision, a force of nature even in practice.

"Renny, look!" the child whispered, clinging to your leg. "I’m brave, just like Papa!"

You chuckled, picking them up. "That’s right. You’re his brave little pup."

After dismissing the recruits, Calcharo approached, his piercing eyes softening at the sight of you and the child. "What are my two favorite people whispering about?"

Before you could answer, the child wriggled free from your arms and pointed at you with dramatic flair. "Renny says I’m going to have a baby brother or sister!"

Calcharo’s eyes widened, his usually stoic expression giving way to disbelief. He looked at you, searching for confirmation. When you nodded, his lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he pulled you and the child into a fierce embrace, his Tacet Mark faintly glowing.

"A second pup," he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. He stepped back, brushing his hand along your cheek. "I never thought I’d have this—a family. Thank you."

The child giggled, tugging at his coat. "Does that mean I get to teach them how to growl?"

Calcharo laughed softly, ruffling their hair. "You’ll be the best teacher, and I’ll make sure you all have a safe, strong pack to call home."

[fandomnerd9602]

Being in a Relationship with WandaNat…

Random Headcanons

Wanda and Natasha were already dating when they met you: the newest Avenger recruit.

Natasha always found some excuse to train you privately with her and Wanda.

Didn’t take long for the three of you to begin dating.

The three of you love one another equally. No jealousy. Well there is playful jealousy over who gets kissed more often. You always try to balance it out.

You all love the domestic life. Natasha loves running the house. Wanda loves cooking and a bit of cleaning. You do whatever chores are left. Although Wanda and Nat just want you to cuddle with them instead.

Sleeping Arrangements: king sized bed, Wanda always sleeps in between you and Natasha. Makes her feel surrounded by love.

Favorite date: movie nights. Natasha loves watching old spy movies. Wanda loves watching sitcoms.

Natasha loves physical displays of affection. Wanda loves affirmations. You’re more than happy to meet both.

Kids? Wanda wants two. Natasha is more than happy to be a second mom. That’s how you plan to raise the kids. They’ll know both Wanda and Natasha as their moms.

Pets: Natasha adopted a little kitten and Wanda adopted a big dog. Surprisingly, the dog loves and acts as a protector to the kitten.

Life is always chaotic being Avengers but you love being able to carve out your own little paradise with these two amazing women.

Tags: @lifespectator @aloneodi @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @tokufighter @abimess @family-house-of-m

[her-devils-advocate]

Selfish risks

pairings: Levi Ackerman x (GN!) reader

genre: domestic fluff

summary: In the peaceful downtime spent together, Levi decides to risk asking an important question.

word count: 1,435

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54159382

The Scout headquarters is silent, most of the survey corps members have already taken themselves off to bed, greedily getting as much rest as possible before the next mission creeps up on them. Everyone has been working hard, with both training sessions and squad meetings running longer and longer each day, almost as if each scout could sense something approaching.

The wind howls outside the stone structure, rustling the leaves and causing the windows to rattle. You shiver despite the loud crackling of the fireplace inside your office, the amber flames fighting to keep the chill away.

The warmth and ambient sounds of nature do their best to lull you to sleep, exhaustion tugging on your eyelids as you force yourself to work through the night. A bad habit that you had picked up from a certain captain.

Your relationship with him over the years within the scouts had caused a few of his mannerisms to rub off onto you, for better or for worse. You’ve found that the recruits you are tasked to train tend to listen to you more after you picked up Levi’s “don’t test me” expression. However, you have caught yourself clicking your tongue in displeasure a lot more as well, much to the amusement of all those nearby to pick up on it.

The frantic scribbling of your pen grows louder as you try to rush the piles of paperwork towering before you. A small rumble breaks the silence as your stomach protests, unhappy with the dedication to the mountain of paper causing you to skip dinner accidentally.

You are so engulfed in the moment that you almost miss the gentle creaking of the door. You raise your head only to be met with tired silver eyes cutting through the shadows of the room. 

Levi slowly shuts the door before pausing, simply watching you sign your name and toss the pen to the side, ignoring the halfhearted glare thrown your way as it rolls across the desk and onto the floor with a small clatter. 

You stare at him for a moment, waiting for the small lecture about making a mess, even if it is in your own space. A lecture that, surprisingly, never comes.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" He says instead, his voice is gentle, yet you can sense the small reprimand within his words. 

"Curfew doesn't apply to squad leaders and higher, I thought you knew that?" You shoot him a playful smirk that only grows with the withering look you get in response.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"I know, there's just... so much to get through and I figured I would power through most of it while you were in the meeting with Erwin and Hange. Which seemed like a good plan considering how long it took."

Levi lets out a long sigh as he walks towards the armchair by the fire, flopping down onto the worn fabric. You smile at the sight, at how carefree and unguarded he lets himself be around you. 

A sight some could never think to imagine when it comes to the aloof captain, but you know him better than most.

You get up from the desk, groaning slightly as your muscles scream in defiance. A sign that you have been cooped up on the uncomfortable wooden chair for far too long. The sound causes Levi's head to snap in your direction, only relaxing again when he notices you are in no real pain.

The sight makes you smile, even with everything he has to handle within the Survey Corps, he still always makes sure to look out for you as well. Even when he doesn’t need to.

His eyes track your every movement and you see a myriad of emotions swirling through them: exhaustion, concern, wonder, adoration and love all mix with the flickering amber of the fire within the gunmetal of his eyes.

He shuffles to try and give you some space beside him in the small armchair, only to frown in frustration and pull you into his arms instead. You rest your head in the crook of his neck, straddling his lap as you bring your hand up to run through his silky hair.

"Interesting meeting?" You whisper into his neck, not wanting to break the peace that has settled over you both. Something you both rarely get to cherish, yet heavily deserve.

The only reply you get is a small hum, he tightens his grip around you and peppers your shoulder with small kisses.

"Four-eyes has a new experiment they want to try out. Apparently, it's fundamental that Erwin lets them capture more titans for it." Levi says with a small grumble, his voice slightly muffled by your shoulder, clearly unhappy to remember what had held up the already late meeting for so long.

You go to open your mouth to speak, only for his low voice to cut you off instantly.

"And no, you're not helping them with whatever shitty plan they have in mind. You need to stop letting them drag you into their schemes so easily." He punctuates his words with a small flick to the centre of your forehead.

You let out a light laugh, the action sending a shiver across Levi's skin.

"How did you know I was going to suggest helping Hange?"

"I know you too well."

"That you do." You kiss his jawline, slowly moving towards his lips, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses as you do. He sighs when your lips finally meet his own, his eyes flickering shut briefly as you part. 

"Marry me."

Your eyes widen briefly, shock and excitement rushing through you, you are almost certain you had misheard him if it weren't for the slightest blush covering his cheeks and the determined look in his eyes.

"Is that an order, Captain?"

He huffs out a small laugh, his eyes flicking up briefly before he reveals a small ring from the pocket of his jacket. A proud green jewel sits atop the thin silver band, your breath catches as it glints in the firelight.

"I could make it one if you wanted. I got fed up of waiting for some perfect moment or whatever that traditional bullshit is. There are no perfect moments in this world, not when titans could eat us at any moment." He pauses for a moment, his usually stoic voice faltering with emotions as he tries to hide his face from your unwavering gaze.

"Or so I thought until you made me experience peace in these moments with you. Then I realised that every moment where we are alive together is a perfect one."

You stare at him with wide eyes, not noticing the stream of tears running down your cheeks until you feel his calloused hand brush them away with a softness you couldn't begin to imagine.

"The thought of having someone to lose scares me, but you've made me realise that marriage or not, loving you has been a risk I've been taking for a while now. Might as well make you officially mine while we have the chance."

You let out a watery giggle as your hands dance along the fabric of his shirt, smoothing out any creases that dare to cling to him.

"You know, most marriage proposals don't have the implications of a horrible death woven into them."

"That's clearly where the poor fuckers are going wrong then."

Levi's eyes are soft as he watches you, his lips finally quirking up into a small smile as you let out an undignified snort at his comment.

"Yes, I will marry you." 

You don't miss the way his shoulders drop with relief, nor the genuine joy that shines through his eyes. He delicately takes the hand you wordlessly offer him, taking his time to slide the ring onto your finger.

“Good, I want to risk being selfish. Just this once.”

You beam at his words, heart heavy as you place a soft kiss onto his lips before throwing your arms around his neck to pull him as close as possible. His arms quickly wrap around your lower back as he holds you tightly, his head resting against your chest. 

He can almost sense the approaching comment from the way you jiggle with pure, albeit restrained laughter.

“Is it green to match our capes? Don’t get me wrong, love, you choose very well. A fact I’m sure you already know, but…is that the reason?” “Shut up.”

The laugh you give him in response warms both of your hearts more than the now-dying fire could manage.

[bookwormjust]

Surprising Him with His Favorite Food (established relationship with Cassian)

Cassian had been out all day, training recruits and dealing with the demands of his job, and you knew he’d come home sore and tired. So, you decided to surprise him with his favorite meal—something hearty and comforting to lift his spirits. The kitchen filled with the warm, savory smells as you cooked, your anticipation growing with every dish you prepared.

By the time Cassian arrived home, the table was set with all his favorite foods, the flicker of candlelight adding a soft glow to the room. You heard the door open and the heavy footsteps of Cassian walking in. 

“Hey, love, I’m home,” he called out, his voice slightly tired but full of warmth.

“In here!” you replied, grinning to yourself.

Cassian appeared in the doorway, his eyes immediately widening as he took in the sight of the table and the aroma of the meal. “What’s this?” he asked, clearly surprised, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“I figured you could use a good meal after the day you’ve had,” you said, walking over to him with a proud smile.

He stared at you for a moment, his expression softening. “You did all this... for me?” he asked, his voice full of genuine awe.

You nodded, a little bashful. “Of course, I did. You deserve it.”

Before you could say anything else, Cassian wrapped you in a massive bear hug, lifting you off the ground as he spun you around. “You’re the best!” he exclaimed, his laughter bubbling up as he buried his face in your neck.

You laughed as well, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Put me down, or the food’s going to get cold!” you teased, though you couldn’t help but melt into his embrace.

He set you down gently, but his hands lingered on your waist, and he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips, lingering for a moment. “I can’t believe you did this,” he murmured, his tone filled with affection. “I don’t deserve you.”

You smiled up at him, brushing a stray lock of his hair back. “You deserve everything, Cass. I’m just glad I could make you happy.”

He gave you one of those big, radiant smiles, the kind that always made your heart flutter. “You always make me happy,” he said, his voice warm with sincerity. “But this… this is perfect.”

The two of you sat down together, Cassian immediately digging into the meal with an appreciative groan. “Gods, this is amazing!” he said between bites, his face lighting up with every taste. “You’re a genius.”

You laughed, watching him enjoy the food you’d made, his enthusiasm making all the effort worth it. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it? I love it!” he exclaimed, pausing to give you a playful nudge. “Seriously, this is the best surprise ever. I don’t think I can thank you enough.”

He leaned over, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “But I’ll definitely try,” he added with a wink, making you giggle.

The rest of the evening passed in a haze of laughter and conversation, filled with Cassian’s constant compliments and his playful attempts to feed you some of his food. These moments—simple and domestic—were filled with so much love and warmth. 

As you cleared the dishes together later, Cassian wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Thank you for always thinking of me,” he whispered, his voice soft and sincere. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smiled, leaning back into his embrace. “You don’t have to thank me. I love you, Cass.”

“And I love you,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your neck before holding you tight, both of you basking in the quiet joy of being together.

[reddtulips]

you wanted requests 👀 how about an overworked price being forced gently coaxed by the 141 into taking a day off? all of them or a member of your choosing. he tries to order them to back off as their captain and for the first time gets a sarcastic "yeah right" look in return.

wholesome/domestic/sexual however you wanna take this. go wild

i just think he needs a break

yelling at the top of my lungs for price to go on a vacation and take an 80 hour nap and just eat citrus fruit

Captain John Price x the rest of task force 141 (mostly John “Soap” MacTavish)

Price has just gotten back from a mission, casualties and hostages and yelling until his voice is hoarse and flying bullets whizzing past his head galore, and no matter how much he tries to relax his breathing, he simply can’t.

His chest feels tight, his shoulders ache with every move and the food in the mess hall is actual slop, which just sours his mood even more.

It takes him forever to get through the paperwork for the mission, and the second he writes his last signature of the day, he exhales heavily. Even the squeaky chair he’s sitting on is annoying the living hell out of him. He feels like breaking it with his bare hands.

Exhaustion washes over him. He pushes the papers aside, files and pens and an open notebook with notes as well and rests his arms and head on the table. He just needs five minutes. Five minutes of interrupted down time and he’ll get right back up and phone Laswell and see if there’s any new info from the mission.

The door to his office creaks open. Price raises his head, high on alert, but relaxed a smidge when his eyes meet Johnny’s blue ones. He’s carrying a mandarin; is slowly starting to peel it.

“Been lookin’ fer ye, Price,” Johnny says. There’s no formalities or a sense of authority with them anymore. Price only pulls rank when Johnny’s being bat shit crazy on the field, and does it to save the sergeant’s life.

“You’ve found me,” Price mutters. His body feels too heavy to lift from the table. “Can’t say in what shape, though.”

“Better shape than most of those bastards from today, I’ll say that.”

All of the shadows from the mission were KIA and only three of their own soldiers were wounded and in medical right now.

Johnny grins, approaches the desk and looks like an apex predator under the dim light of Price’s floor lamp. Price gets a whiff of the citrusy mandarin, feels saliva forming in his mouth and swallows. Johnny, ever the observer, offers half to his captain.

Price takes it. Their fingers brush, and Johnny feels the buzz of electricity he can never seem to get used to. Johnny takes in his captain’s appearance. His hair is messy and his eyebags are darker and sit further down his cheeks than usual. There’s a small haziness in his eyes and Johnny thinks he could take on his captain right here and now and win without too much of a fight. That scenario looks very very wrong in his head.

“You feelin’ aright?”

“Never felt better, sergeant.” Price lies through his teeth and finishes the rest of his mandarin. The juice is sweet and sour at the same time and refreshes his mind there must be some magic in them. “D’you need anything or do I have to assign you recruit training for the next two months?”

“I’m just lookin’ out for my captain, is all,” Johnny says, raising his arms in defense. “Ye’ve been cooped up 'ere a lot. . . at base. We miss ye at home.”

Ah. Home. Price blinks, then blinks again. He looks up at Soap, sees his lips are pulled into a thin line.

“Soap,” he says, “get the hell out of my office.” the words come out and they sound like a deep sigh from the bottom of his lungs. He can’t deal with this. Not right now. Because he knows. He knows he’s been at base more than home with his boys. And he misses them as well but he has a job to do and he can’t let anyone down. Especially when life or death is at stake.

Price rubs at his eyes, drags his hands down to his beard. It does little to wake him up.

“Ye need a break, sir,” johnny says. “Somewhere on a beach and with 10 ice-cold beers waitin’ in a cooler.”

Price chuckles. “Tempting as that may sound, sergeant, I have too much shit to do here. I'm waiting on Laswell to send me some intel about the mission.”

“I can help.” Soap crosses his arms. Lifts one leg and sits with half of his ass hanging from the edge of Price's desk. Price appreciates the new view of Johnny's bicep, the floor lamp making his tan skin glow.

“I'm listening.” Price raises an eyebrow, sits back in his chair and intertwines his fingers.

“I'll do yer paperwork.”

“No,” Price replies immediately. Beautiful biceps, your charms will not work today.

“I can forge yer signature.” Soap grins and a wolf stares at Price then.

Price huffs a laugh. He’s not surprised to hear that and he fully believes the sergeant’s words.

“Get out, Soap,” Price says, a quirk to his lips. He thinks for a moment when he sees the shaved parts of Johnny's head are sprouting hair again. He needs a trim. "I'll be home tonight. Ask Gaz if he can make that lava cake we all like. The one we ate. . ." It's been so long he can't even remember the last time they ate the dessert.

"A month ago?" Soap supplies, shoving the fact into his captain's face.

Price closes his eyes. Has it really been that long?

At the look on Price's defeated face, Soap leans across the desk, captures his captain's chin between his fingers and presses a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Come home tonight."

Another kiss, slow and deep.

"I said, I will." Price pulls away to murmur. His body burns with guilt and lust. He's made his boys sad and worried and that's the last thing he wants. What he does want is Johnny's pliable body underneath him and Gaz's warm mouth over his cock and Simon's thick thighs underneath his ass.

"Ye've been sayin' that for the past week." Johnny shakes his head. Price can't remember the last time he had a conversation like this with him.

His cock is already half hard from three long kisses and a gentle hand against his cheek and he realizes he can't put his work above his boys any longer.

"I'll be home tonight, love. I promise."

Price pulls Soap down for another kiss that nearly ends up with them tearing each other's clothes off and Price railing Johnny into the desk, and he would give a single fuck about being loud or the rickety old table squeaking and giving them away. Soap is the one who pulls away first, eyes hazy and pupils blown wide and lips soft and puffy. He looks like a fucking dream.

Johnny begrudgingly leaves Price’s office when he’s being practically pushed out the door. He has a hard on in his pants and the peel of the mandarin is held tightly in his gloved hand. I promise, I promise, I promise.

The words are whispered into the crook of his neck that night, Price rocking into him while he’s gasping and moaning over the words sir, yes, fu-ah-fuck, ah, a-ah, ah, missed ye s’much. Ghost and Gaz’s brains are practically melted at this point, but they watch Johnny as his eyes roll back into his head and his cock spurts come in streams all over his toned stomach.

Price cums a few thrusts later, his chest heaving with every breath he takes. His boys are sated, he feels the tension in his shoulders and back slowly leave him in waves as the last of his orgasm washes over him.

They wash up, change the sheets and when they lie back down on the bed, he’s in the center. Soap, Ghost and Gaz curl up together with their captain, and they make Price promise he will take at least a few days off, because the house just doesn’t feel the same without all four members in it.

—————

a/n: I’m so incredibly sorry this took so long but I had so much shit to do last week and I rewrote this twice and I still don’t know if I’m happy with it or not, but nevertheless I hope you enjoy :’)

[hiraethwrote]

❝ ANGEL PART 2 ❞

[ suguru geto x f!reader ]

✧ summary: the last time you met was supposed to be a final goodbye - suguru had chosen his path. but the heartbreak seem to hurt just as much as it did more than a decade ago when he suddenly comes back ✧ cw: heavy angst, no comfort, spoilers for jjk0, character death, mentions of blood and physical injuries, depiction of an anxiety attack, cursing, no use of y/n, platonic!satoru ✧ word count: 4.3k

part 1 - part 2

Was the this what dying felt like?

Shallow breaths was all you managed to heave through your lips, not nearly sufficing your need for oxygen. Head dizzy and lightheaded, you felt as if the two of you were isolated in a dark and abandoned vacuum, your sadness surrounding you in a suffocating silence.

This wasn’t how your reunion was supposed to be.

No, when you met him again, everything was supposed to be settled — peaceful, and you’d be able to take advantage of a more forgiving world, now allowed to lace your arms around him in comfort. You were meant to enjoy a domestic future you had always talked about.

You weren’t supposed to be latched around his limp body, begging to deaf ears to have him return to you.

This was all wrong.

He wasn’t supposed to die.

“Suguru Geto, a special-grade curse user who uses cursed spirit manipulation,” Ijichi started off the meeting, standing across the room from you.

The sound of his name had your breath come out trembling, focusing your eyes on your feet to stop yourself from losing it completely in the middle of the crowd.

Finally, after all these years, the confrontation you had always feared might occur, was unfolding before your eyes. The theories of Suguru’s eventual return had been on the lips of the Jujutsu community for some time now, and you had childishly closed your ears, unwilling to listen to people’s warnings.

You had dealt with this situation the only way you thought fit — by pretending it wasn’t real. Ever since that day on the train station, you had simply tried to pretend as if Suguru had never existed. When he was nothing but an unnamed ghost that drifted around only in rumours, you found it easier to detach yourself from the whole ordeal — at least as much as your brain allowed you to.

But this was the end of your naivety. When he had decided to land right outside Jujutsu Tech in an attempt to recruit Yuta to support his cause and declare war on jujutsu sorcerers, you could no longer act as if he was someone you’d made up in your mind.

He was real.

As much as people were paying attention to Ijichi’s presentation, you were well aware that you were the elephant in the room. You and Suguru’s relationship was no secret to anyone, and you could feel the pressing weight of how you were in the back of everyone’s mind. Especially Satoru, who even through his bandages managed to rest a heavy stare in you.

With your arms tightly crossed over your chest and your heel tapping nervously against the floor, you desperately tried to block out what was being said, familiar heartache growing for every word that was spoken.

“He claims to possess 2000 of them and that may not be a bluff.”

Ijichi’s statement had your eyes squeeze shut, wanting the image that appeared in your mind to disappear — the image you so vividly pictured of him consuming curse after damned curse.

For years you’d tried to suppress all the painful memories that plagued you. But they were all coming swarming back, the ones of Suguru in the period leading up to the massacre becoming particularly prominent in your mind. How exhausted he’d been the last few weeks, how the boy you loved had slowly deteriorated before your eyes and you hadn’t been able to stop it. And you knew that consuming curses was part of what had drained him to the point of no return.

“But statistically, most of them have got to be weaker grade-two curses or below,” Yaga jumped into the presentation. “Also estimating generously, he can’t have much more than 50 curse users,” voice low, with clear disdain for him.

It rubbed you the wrong way to hear Yaga talk about Suguru with so little consideration, as if he hadn’t known and cared for him too at one point.

Not just Yaga — several people in this room had known Suguru, but by observing them you could never have guessed. No one had the inner edges of their eyebrows pinched together in sadness, or restless hands picking at their own skin. They were all paying close attention to how Suguru was described as this awful monster — something a part of you had always refused to acknowledge.

Your own adrenaline driven body was sticking out like a sore thumb in the calm and contained crowd, feeling a desperate need to get the hell out of the room. You tried to roll your neck and shoulders in an attempt to release the tension that was straining your body, but nothing helped.

It wasn’t until you heard Satoru’s voice that your head finally turned up. “That’s actually the part that frightens me the most. I find it hard to believe that he’d want to start a war that he couldn’t win.”

“God damn,” Yaga burst out.

A quick and nervous glance went between Satoru, Shoko and you before you swallowed the lump in your throat. Though they both seemed to do a better job at hiding their sorrow, you knew they were the only ones feeling the same turmoil as you. It even appeared as if Shoko had reached her limit when she pushed herself off the wall and exited the meeting while Yaga went on an angry rant.

“Put out a call for aid to all alumni, alert the three major clans and the Ainu Jujutsu Society. It’s all out war. It’s not just the curses we’ll exorcise, it’s Geto!”

Yaga’s loaded declaration made it run cold down your spine, a weak ‘no’ spilling from your lips in a desperate plea before your voice hitched in your throat. You frantically began to look around the room in search for any signs of objection, but they all seemed to be on board without a single hesitation.

Your eyes snapped to Satoru for him to use his position and power to be your last hope. And to think, he who had spent the entire meeting keeping a worrying eye on you, now avoided your glare for all it was worth.

Your breathing picked up its pace, arms falling to your side as nails dug into your palms nearly drawing blood and heart about to beat out of your chest. You couldn’t stay here — you couldn’t listen to how all these people were making a meticulous plan on how best to execute the love of your life.

The agitation running your body had you rush for the door, feeling everyone’s heads turn towards your dramatic exit as you slammed the door behind you.

Once out of the hostile atmosphere, the adrenaline that had kept you on your feet slowly transformed into pure misery, having your legs give out under you before stumbling forwards and sliding down the wall. You buried your head in your knees and slapped your hands tightly over your ears to block out the talk from the meeting that you were still able to make out.

You felt sick to your stomach.

And to think you’d always considered what took place eleven years ago to be your worst nightmare. But the future that threatened you now was worse — you hadn’t even dared to imagine it. Because despite having lost him to so cruel a fate, at least he was alive.

In the wee hours of the night, while everyone else was sound asleep and you found yourself too tired to shield him out of your mind, it brought you a sense of comfort to know that he was out in the world somewhere doing mundane things — same as you.

He still had to get up and get dressed in the morning, having restless nights where his running mind was keeping him up, cooking dinner and setting the table.

And if whatever they concluded would be the best course of action worked, he would no longer get to enjoy the little things in life that you knew he used to appreciate. He’d no longer find himself just admiring a beautiful sunset to wash of a long day, something he always loved to do with you on days he’d exorcised countless curses.

Endless scenarios of Suguru living his day-to-day life took your mind hostage, and it wasn’t until a hand placed on your shoulder had you jolt away, your wet eyes introducing you to a slightly blurred image of Satoru crouched in front of you. Behind him Yaga stood with a scowl.

“You know as well as us this is what has to happen,” Yaga said strictly, as his arms crossed over his chest.

You scoffed at the audacity of him talking to you with so little compassion, your sadness slowly turning back into the agitation that had led you out of the room in the first place. “You’re unbelievable,” you whispered as you shook your head, averting your eyes because the look you’d give him with be nothing but cruel.

“Geto is dangerous. We have a responsibility to take him-“

“Don’t do that,” you demanded. “Do not guilt me into being okay with this!”

“That’s not what I’m doing, but I know what Geto does to you and I have to make sure you won’t be a liability.”

You abruptly jumped to your feet at the sound of his name, Satoru following your lead ready to intervene as you were so clearly fuelled by a decade old heartbreak.

“Take his name out of your mouth,” you seethed through gritted teeth, placing an accusatory finger on his chest. “If that’s all you’re going to say about him and remember him for, you don’t get to speak his name!”

“He’s a murderer. He’s dangerous,” Yaga said calmly, but the animosity was still heard.

“We’ve heard the story enough times, but Suguru is more than this cult, this agenda, and you know that,” your voice cracked, fighting back tears.

“Listen to yourself,” still calm, “you’re talking if he’s the same boy that you fell-“ with a raise of your eyebrows he instantly cut himself off, knowing he’d cross the line if he finished his sentence. “That attended here.”

“He’s in there somewhere, I’m sure of it.” One of your sharp heaves cut though the conversation. Satoru spoke your name softy as he tried to place a hand on your shoulder again, to which you instantly stepped away. “No, don’t touch me!”

He said your name again in the same sad tone. “You know what we have to do.” All the years you’d known Satoru, you could recall every single time you’d heard him as absolutely devastated as now. He might be able to fool everyone in that meeting room that he was behind this mission wholeheartedly, but you saw through his facade. You knew he was struggling as much as you were.

“No, I know, fuck-“ you cut yourself off as you pressed your hands to your eyes as if it would be able to stop your tears. “I know all that but please don’t expect me to mourn him before I have to!”

For a few moments, it was only your sobs that filled the silence between the three of you. And again he appeared in your mind, but not how he usually did.

No, he appeared how you’d seen him just hours prior.

When he’d arrived earlier that day, you were sure your heart stopped for a moment. An overwhelming and suffocating feeling of true melancholy dominating your body, which had kept you in the back of the crowd. Partly because you were frozen in place, the shock of seeing him again causing all your limbs to malfunction. But also partly because you were scared of what his reaction to seeing you would be — suspecting he might treat you like everyone else, preaching his crazy, religious tangent to you just the same.

He had looked so much like himself — yet so different. His hair was still long, his features just as beautiful, and his aura oozing confidence. It was so clearly your Suguru you were looking at, but the contrast of how you’d witnessed him his last weeks with you was unmatched.

And it broke your heart all over again. Because based on how he had presented himself, he seemed to have found a purpose he previously believed he had lacked. This dark path he was on had given his life meaning, where he performed so assertively to the point he had been able to draw in a group of devoted followers who genuinely believed in what he was promoting.

Why hadn’t you been able to give him that reassurance?

You finally got your sobs under control to some degree, taking a deep breath before removing your hands to meet their piercing eyes.

“I’m aware of what has to happen,” you said weakly, a relieved wave washing over Yaga. “I’d never do anything to put these kids in danger. But I’m not going to lie to you, I’m not fine with this. I’ll never be.”

“I know,” Yaga said carefully, finally giving you a more tender look.

“I’m still his,” you whispered, drying the silent tears with the back of your hand before turning to look at Satoru. “I think I’m ready for this day to be over,” you sniffled.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, me too,” he breathed as you walked up to him, letting him pull you close to him with an arm across your shoulders, having you reactively cling on around his waist.

Despite the pain that pulsated through your body, you hurried to find Satoru, who’d just about defeated his opponent when you reached him. You shouted his name as you leaned forward, hands resting on your knees, desperately trying to catch your breath.

He instantly turned at the sound of his name, one hand rubbing his shoulder as he came to meet you halfway on the deserted and destroyed highway.

“Something’s not right,” you panted.

“There’s no time to speculate,” he rushed to say as he quickly grabbed your shoulders to spin you around and pushed you in the opposite direction. “The city is still crawling with curses. Help Nanami, he probably wouldn’t say no to your powers.”

Satoru crashed right into your back when you buried your feet into the asphalt, bringing you to an abrupt halt. Spinning out of his grip you turned to look at him, eyebrows pinched together.

“Satoru, what’s going on?”

“The city is being attacked-“

“Satoru,” you interrupted firmly, seeing right through his poorly convincing act. With a deep sigh, he fully removed his bandages, his eyes conveying a message of genuine concern.

“He’s not here.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense! This is where his plan holds the most ground. And he is proud, he’d want to be-“ your words instantly died in your throat when it finally dawned on you. Your mouth ran dry, eyes flicking madly between his. “Oh my god, he’s at the school.”

Goosebumps suddenly covered your skin, your breath growing rapid at the idea of him there with Yuta and Maki. You didn’t want to believe it, that this was the core to his plan, that he had traveled beyond the line of redemption.

Satoru reached out to take a reassuring grip on your arms again. “They’re going to be fine, Toge and Panda are there too-“

“What?” You exclaimed, feeling your shoulders raise with fear.

“I sent them there as soon as I figured out he wasn’t here-“

“Hold on!” You pulled out of his grip, taking a step back. “You sent them there? When? How long have they been there? When did you figure it out?”

“Calm down, please,” he begged hunched forward, nearly appearing small. “He won’t kill them. I’m headed there now.”

“Wait-“ you raised your hands, your head spinning from all the confusing questions raging through your mind. Trying to find a footing in all the madness, you locked eyes with him again to capture his stare. “You were going to go back there without me.” You saw how he gulped nervously, standing up straight in order to to regain some sense of poise.

“Listen to me, okay?” He annunciated clearly, hands hovering in front of him in innocent defence. “What’s about to happen tonight,” he had to take a deep sigh in order to find the right words. “You shouldn’t have to see it.”

You felt yourself shrink. “You’re saying he’ll die.” It was supposed to be a question, but you knew it too. From everything that had gone down tonight, and from the trust Satoru had in the decisions he’d made — it had all lead to this.

“Stay here! Let me take care of it, okay?”

“Satoru…” your voice came out hoarse, hearing the sad desperation in his suggestion.

For a moment you considered it. Maybe letting Satoru fix everything that needed to be fixed to save you the agony it would bring to witness your worst nightmare — but there was no way you could accept it.

First of, it wouldn’t be right for you to let Satoru carry the burden alone. He too was losing one of the most important people in his life. What kind of friend would you be if you loaded all that trauma on him?

And secondly, you knew you’d regret it forever if you didn’t see him.

“No,” you said before taking a deep breath. “No, I’m coming with you.”

“Are you sure? One hundred percent sure?”

As he gave you one last chance to back out, you simply nodded to confirm. “I have to.”

And here it was. The worst moment in your life.

The second you’d returned to the school, you and Satoru had acted on pure instinct, splitting up to find Suguru as fast as possible. But you found the kids first, instantly overcome with worry at the sight of them so exhausted and beaten up.

In between their groans of pain, they managed to string together a somewhat coherent storyline of the fight that had taken place. As their explanation started to take form, you had to fight to keep a straight face as the tears threatened to break to the surface.

Somewhere on the grounds, Suguru was walking around bloody, beaten and alone.

Knowing the kids where okay for now, you excused yourself before you proceeded to search for either Suguru or Satoru. And soon enough, you stumbled upon Satoru crouched down in an empty street in front of a dark alley.

You slowly approached him, eventually revealing Suguru leaned up against the alley wall in a lot worse state than you had imagined. The sight had you draw a sharp breath before covering your mouth, stopping the sobs from filling the space between you.

“Well, I must be dreaming,” Suguru smiled weakly, instantly wincing in pain once the sentence was out.

Scarcely you shuffled past Satoru to sit down next to Suguru. You wanted to touch him, but the scene of him so hurt only had your hands twitching an inch away from actually touching him, nervous you’d only make his pain worse if your fingers were to connect with him.

Pleading whimpers tumbled out of you, trying to come up with any solution to help him, take some of his pain away.

“Suguru-“ your voice cracked, having his eyes connect with yours.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you again.” His voice was so weak, telling you just how fragile he was. You knew any attempt of healing him would be entirely useless — you weren’t even sure what it was that was keeping his heart beating at all.

You finally let your desire overcome your terror, with the lightest touch cupping his face, your thumbs slowly stroking his cheeks. “Me neither,” you sniffled.

His eyes slowly traveled between yours. They were unchanged, telling you he had so many things he wanted to say but he didn’t have the energy to confess any of them. All he managed to force out was a weak “I’m sorry.”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” you cooed softly. You knew you weren’t going to be able to take any of his pain away, then the least you could do was make his last moments as comfortable as possible. Choking back the sobs that you knew would escape eventually, you gave him a trembling smile. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“At least we get one last sunset together, right angel?” The sound of your nickname after all these years, had you slip for a second, a small sob protruding out. You turned to take in the scenery.

It felt like cruel irony, the sky on fire with breathtaking autumn colours, as if it was taunting the fact that his life was slowly slipping away. But it sure was beautiful.

“Yeah,” you breathed, shifting your focus back to him. “I guess we’ve deserved that after today,” you chuckled sadly.

His nostrils began to flare and his breathing quickened before you saw a tear roll slowly down his cheek. “Please forgive me.”

You didn’t hesitate leaning forward to rest your forehead against his. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I forgive you,” you tried to comfort him as you could feel him sob quietly under your touch. “I forgive you.”

Never had you felt less powerless, searching every crevice of your brain for any trick or technique to help him, or at the very least, ease his suffering. And you could tell he tried his best not to let it show, but he was so clearly in complete anguish unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

You grasped onto strings of pointless hope that he would miraculously be all healed up and return your embrace like you’d dreamed of so many times since you’d last indulged in his warmth.

His skin grew colder under your hands, once again letting the fear produce violent sobs that you had no choice but suppress. The only way you could help him now was to be there, hold him, love him.

“You’ll stay?”

“As long as you need,” you whispered.

You carefully pulled your head away from Suguru when you felt Satoru’s presence hover behind you. Looking in his eyes, you simply gave him a weak nod, neither of you needing to utter a single word — you knew what happened now.

With careful precision, you repositioned yourself. You made sure not to make any drastic or sudden movements, not wanting to worsen his state by any means.

Leaning with your back agains the wall now, you graciously guided his head to rest against your chest as you cradled his head with as much care as when you were young. Hand stroking his hair to soothe him.

For a split second you made eye contact with Satoru, knowing he was going to give him the mercy he finally deserved. But you knew you couldn’t watch, squeezing your eyes shut and just taking in the feeling of his body resting against yours.

“I love you, angel,” his voice came out barely louder than a whisper, earning him a high pitched whimper before you opened your mouth to answer.

“I love you, Suguru,” you said. As you held him tight to you, you repeated the three words continuously, wanting your voice to be the last thing he heard as he eventually drifted off into endless rest — reassuring him that despite everything, you never stopped loving him.

Then you felt the shift.

Whatever Satoru had done, it had been peaceful, but it had worked — because suddenly his body weighed heavier on you, his muscles relaxed and his breathing died out.

And with the feeling of his life slipping away while laying in your arms, all composure evaporated immediately. The sorrow crushed down on you with vigour that you had no chance to withstand. Your arms tightened around him with all your force, desperate to feel him against you, as it would somehow bring him back.

The sobs you had restrained all day overpowered any control you had, coming out out in waves of loud wails. None of the breaths you desperately tried to take between your cries seemed to reach your lungs, eventually developing into hyperventilating. Eerie ringing filled your ears, blocking out all of your surroundings.

It wasn’t just Suguru that was gone, but all hope of him ever coming back to you, no matter how ridiculous and bottomless that hope had been. As long as he was alive, you had always held on to a naive thought that maybe the two of you could still end up together in the end when you were both old and grey.

That hope was gone now — only to be reserved for your slumbering nights.

And what happened now? There was no way you’d let anyone at Jujutsu Tech or any of the higher ups get to him. You knew they wouldn’t agree to give his body a respectable burial. They would make sure his name was defiled within the Jujutsu community for eternity. If they were going to take his name, they weren’t going to take his body.

After what felt like half a century, Satoru’s voice finally broke through the anxious barrier that had clogged all your senses.

“We can’t stay here.”

You cracked your eyes open, sore from all the tears that had been spilled, meeting his eyes, also stained red from sadness. Watching you intently, Satoru saw how you tried to force out any words to respond, but only sobs and heartaches fell from your lips.

“Come on,” he said carefully as he reached for your shoulders to help you on your feet only for you to cling onto Suguru tighter. “We have to get him out of here.”

Satoru was patient, a tender grip trying to calm you back to reality enough for you regain some sanity. Soon enough, while his hands shyly stroked your upper arms, his words sunk in.

“Okay,” you whispered, slowly peeling yourself away from him. “I’m sorry,” you whimpered again and again, carefully pushing his head off of you, propping him up against the wall with utmost care. But feeling how heavy his lifeless head was brought a sickening lump to form in your stomach.

Steadying yourself, you turned to Satoru again. “Tell me what I have to do.”

tags @sad-darksoul,

a/n this is dedicaded to the lovely anon who requested a painful pt 2, a likeminded individual like me who just enjoys pain with no comfort

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciatedplagiarism not authorized

[fanaticsnail]

Just a short prompt idea for Garp: Either first Valentines day with him or first anniversary.

Bouquet of Red Roses

Masterlist here

Word Count: 1,300+

Synopsis: Your work day was interrupted by an open display of devotion from your lover, something you both agreed was for the best to keep secret from your colleagues.

Themes: Garp x f!reader, feelings, established relationship, secret relationship, domesticity, act of devotion, fluff, kisses.

Notes: I had this sitting in my ask box for a little while. Really felt like I needed to pay the Vice-Admiral some attention.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Hands racing atop the wafer-thin paper, and eyes darting over the finer printed words of the latest outlined information from headquarters, you barely noticed the uncommon presence of flowers being placed on your desk. You held up your index finger, continuing to skim over the words with a simple command to the person arriving at your desk.

“Just a second,” you informed them, lifting up your pen and scratching a few markings on your notepaper beside you. Withdrawing your hand from the air, you shuffled the papers and placed them within a manilla folder to get the outline ready for your boss in his office. 

Upon floating your eyes up, you were immediately taken aback by the presence of your boss, Vice-Admiral Garp of the marine base. His smile drew up his face as he noticed your eyes meet his, his hand balling itself into a fist around the stems of the bouquet in his hands. Retracting his hands from your desk, and leaving the flowers behind in its wake, he stooped into a short nodded bow.

Immediately rising from your desk, you saluted the Vice-Admiral and stood at attention to receive a reprimand and formal scolding for your abrasive attitude towards a superior. All he offered was a soft chuckle in response, with him waving to the floor with his right hand and gesturing for you to halt your formal stance. 

“At ease, officer,” he snickered with a wolfy grin. You laced your hands behind your back, square your shoulders in a swift rotation, and gulped back your anticipation. He shook his head, looking down to the folder on your desk and tilted his head to the side. 

“This the list of new transfers and recruits?” he asked, arching his brow up and reading the titled page. You responded with a curt, “Aye, Sir,” and continued staring straight ahead. You met the eyes of his two proteges behind him, the pink-haired Captain offering you a soft smile, whereas the blonde-haired swordsman’s face remained stoic and vacant. 

“Bogard already in my office, Lass?” he asked you, stepping around your desk to get a better look at the folder and your writing. With a swift, polite nod, you offered him another disciplined, “Aye, Sir,” in response. Garp smiled, nodding his head towards his office and making eye contact with Koby and Helmeppo, wordlessly ordering them through the doors to meet with Bogard. 

As the two younger members left your desk and shut Garp’s door behind them, you finally looked down and noticed the bouquet of red roses placed delicately on your desk. Sprigs of baby’s breath, leaves of fine emerald ferns shot out amongst the soft opening of red bulbs of fresh roses. The scent wafted from your desk to the place you were standing at his side, your eyes once again depicted shock.

“Sir?” you asked, cocking your head to the side, “There are flowers on my desk.” Garp hummed in thought, leaning his hips on the desk and gazing lovingly at you from his position anchored against the wooden surface. 

“Aye, so there is,” he admitted with a soft smile. He reached up and tucked your hair behind your ear, softly caressing your cheek and earning him an inquisitive smile from you in return. You swatted his hand away from your face and hushed your voice in a soft whisper.

“You said we weren’t going to bring this to the office, Sir,” you warned him with your soft scolding. His eyes held mischief with a soft gaze of love and affection. He collected your hand within his, looking between your eyes and softly flickering down to your lips.

“Aye, that I did,” he admitted softly, stepping closer to you and holding your hip with his unoccupied hand. He gently thumbed over your hip in a soft circle, caressing the joint raised on your waist and stepping closer to you.

“You said it wasn’t appropriate to openly display our relationship, Sir,” you tilted your chin away from him and warned him with your eyes, “Said it was unbecoming of an officer to be dating above their station. Showing favoritism, and all that.” 

“Aye, I said that too,” he confessed, his eyes creasing up at the corners as he leaned down towards you and attempted to kiss you. You pulled your hand out of his grip and placed your fingertips over his lips to halt his descent. 

“What changed, Vice-Admiral?” you pushed him a little with your hand, prompting him to smile beneath your fingertips. He pursed his lips under your hand, pressing a soft kiss against your fingers. 

Circling his hand around your forearm, he began mapping your skin with his lips in a slow descent of soft, intentional kisses. Without further warning, he kept tracing higher and higher up your arm while watching your hardening resolve break from your face and your smile grew wider and less withheld. 

He devoted his lips to bringing more of your smile to the surface, his mustache and beard tickling your skin and prompting you to giggle. Each of your soft laughs were as good as any trophy or medal he received in combat. His smile pressed into your skin, finally making his way up to the pulse-point in your neck and halting at that point for a moment beyond a simple touch.

“Can a man no’ spoil his wee bonnie on his anniversary?” he whispered huskily into your skin, shooting tingles up your spine and igniting a soft rise of goose flesh at the scruff of your neck. You finally gave in to his advances in the office, hooking your hands around his neck and drawing his face up to see yours. 

Pressing your lips against his, you parted your mouth and gasped your desires in soft moans against his skin. He smiled at your display and snuck his tongue beyond your bottom lip and began to caress yours in a dance of passion. The surroundings of your office and paperwork slowly dissipated from your sights the longer your lips lingered together. 

Upon pulling away, you pressed your forehead against his and closed your eyes upon impact. Drawing his arms over your back, he held you closely and slowly nuzzled against your skin.

“Happy anniversary, Lass,” he uttered softly. His cologne rose to your nose as he held you firmly against him. Brushing his nose lightly with yours, he collected your lips against his for a soft, chaste kiss with more passion than the last. 

“Happy anniversary, Love,” you responded to him, looking up through half-hooded lashes to float your gaze over his scarred face. “Go to your office and leave me to sift through my reports.” He chuckled in response, giving your ass a playful slap in response. 

“I din’nae take your orders here, Bon,” he smirked at your soft yelp at the touch, pressing another kiss to your lips before withdrawing his proximity, “Home is another tale entirely.” You gave his chest a gentle tap in response, earning you a huff of mock pain and his hand clasping over his heart.

“Ye’ wound me,” he chuckled, shaking his head and removing himself from his place by your side. “But I’ll take ye’ scolding,” he began making his move to leave your desk, your gaze floating to the folder still remaining on your desk. 

“Garp,” you whispered, retrieving the folder and thrusting it forward into his hand, “Don’t forget this.” He gently took your wrist in his with his right hand, the folder in his left, and stooped to press a soft kiss on your knuckles. 

“This is why I love you,” he whispered against your bones, rising from his bow and turning towards his office. Shaking your head, you move to sit back down at your desk and continue your work. 

The bouquet of red roses brought you joy throughout your working day, noticing the world became brighter for you the longer the scent of florals lingered beyond the margin of your stationary. You could not wait to celebrate your anniversary with your love after your shifts both finished, both of you eagerly anticipating the events to come as the night fell into soft darkness.

[queereads-bracket]

Queer Fiction Free-for-All Book Bracket Tournament: Round 5

Book summaries and submitted endorsements below:

Monstrous Regiment (Discworld) by Terry Pratchett

It begun as a sudden strange fancy . . .

Polly Perks had to become a boy in a hurry. Cutting off her hair and wearing trousers was easy. Learning to fart and belch in public and walk like an ape took more time . . .

And now she's enlisted in the army, and searching for her lost brother.

But there's a war on. There's always a war on. And Polly and her fellow recruits are suddenly in the thick of it, without any training, and the enemy is hunting them.

All they have on their side is the most artful sergeant in the army and a vampire with a lust for coffee. Well . . . they have the Secret. And as they take the war to the heart of the enemy, they have to use all the resources of . . . the Monstrous Regiment.

Fantasy, satire, war, humor, secondary world

Dykes to Watch Out For by Alison Bechdel

Endorsement from submitter: "Long running serial comic about lesbian life. Incredibly relatable, evolves with the times. A classic of the genre."

From the author of Fun Home—the lives, loves, and politics of cult fav characters Mo, Lois, Sydney, Sparrow, Ginger, Stuart, Clarice, and others

For twenty-five years Bechdel’s path-breaking Dykes to Watch Out For strip has been collected in award-winning volumes (with a quarter of a million copies in print), syndicated in fifty alternative newspapers, and translated into many languages. Now, at last, The Essential Dykes to Watch Out For gathers a “rich, funny, deep and impossible to put down” (Publishers Weekly) selection from all eleven Dykes volumes. Here too are sixty of the newest strips, never before published in book form.

Settle in to this wittily illustrated soap opera (Bechdel calls it “half op-ed column and half endless serialized Victorian novel”) of the lives, loves, and politics of a cast of characters, most of them lesbian, living in a midsize American city that may or may not be Minneapolis. Her brilliantly imagined countercultural band of friends—academics, social workers, bookstore clerks—fall in and out of love, negotiate friendships, raise children, switch careers, and cope with aging parents.

Bechdel fuses high and low culture—from foreign policy to domestic routine, hot sex to postmodern theory—in a serial graphic narrative “suitable for humanists of all persuasions.”

Graphic novel, humor, slice of life, politics, series, adult

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 & 𝐑𝐞𝐝

"This one was supposed to come out right after the prologue, but I kept going in and out, switching things. Quite... boring, domestic recreation. Unless that is your style." - Ichor

Summary - "You’re set up with two practical boots. One was just grumpy and huge while the other was nervous and lean."

TW // None?

|°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°| {Prologue}

Mornings were either you can have a good crisp one with a cool, summer breeze or a really bad one where you just have to make it to work with no way of stopping for any foods and drinks, and you were lucky it was one of the quiet mornings. Non of that quick, rushing and panicking type stuff. Not to mention that you woke up at a good time and went to work on time that you had found a bit of your morning (after putting on your equipment on) for some coffee to put a boost into your day.

“Thanks Joe, you’re always open at the best times.” You sigh, going up on your tippy toes of your boots to gather the two coffees in disposable cups you had ordered from his trailer. The warmth of the cup giving you a slight burning sensation before it let up a bit.

“Ahh, you flatter me!” The older man: Joe, and the owner of the trailer waves his worn hand at you, dismissing you quickly. “I’m just serving the best cop here.”

“Now you’re flattering me!” You laugh softly at the male. Going back down from your toes to stand flat on your boots like a normal person. “I’m certainly not the best, but I do try.”

“Aww, come on. Don’t say that.” Joe clearly disagrees with you, leaning forward a bit where his head was out of the window of his truck. His brown eyes and black, balding head being shown in the morning sunlight. “You definitely have the guts to be one. I would not be able to handle drunks and the physicality of the people 24/7.”

“Ah, don’t pull yourself down either.” You sigh, preparing to head back to the new… problems you have acquired today from the Sargent. The bastard gave you two practical recruits, just one was a Space Marine. “I don’t like the idea of being in a food service.”

“It’s not that bad.” He shrugs before letting you go. Leaning back up to serve some other customers. “…Have a good day, Sarge!”

Walking your way back to the little group of yours. You hand one of the coffees to the new human boot you were assigned, sliding it over the table he sat at. A lean, young man with crew cut blond hair and hazel eyes that have a rim of green in them. A rather nervous thing too.

“T-thanks.” He stammers, shivering as a cool breeze of the morning washes over the group. His hand slowly grasping at the cup as if you would restrict him of it. You wonder how he even got passed in training…

“Mhm, we got a good start.” You nod, carefully taking a sip of your hot coffee. Your eyes glancing to the Space Marine to your left. The man was definitely older than what they would call their own boots, looks like he has experience, and is mighty gruff with it too. His dull, almost blind-like blue eyes looking down at you with narrowed look while his undercut blond hair is slicked back. His lips thin, fitting perfectly with his rectangle face shape, and a few scratches of scars near his lips to match.

Good, now you have a profile just in case this man wants to get rough. You were not going to deal with the supposed growliness. You have heard that he was a bit… unfriendly with people.

“So… what are we doing today?” The recruit continues after putting down his cup for a moment. His last name: Chambers on his vest showing off to your attention. His eyes looking you at you. At least keeping contact.

“The basics.” You shift your weight. Holding your own cup to your side. “Responding to calls, patrolling the area, investigations, and perhaps make an arrest. Enforcing the law.”

He nods at you, looking you over. Playing with his cup before wearily looking up at the Marine that gives a cold look of his own. Your own eyes trying not to roll. “W-what about him?”

“He’s going along with the ride.” You sigh, watching the two of them closely. Seeing how the Marine- er “Xerxes Rivera” lip twitch. “Well with the walk. Considering we need to get authorization to get a cruiser that’s big enough for him to fit in and drive. So, we are reduced to just walking around the main points of the small town: Black Hallows.”

The recruit nods at you again, picking back up his cup to take another sip. His eyes still on Xerxes before looking away with a blush. Embarrassed or not? You’re not one to pry too much on such matters. You’re just trying to do your job that you get paid for doing it well. You don’t like standing around too often just because of some potential drama.

“We got uhhh… supposed crazy lady on Dark Wood road at the “Epoch Antiques.””

Your radio suddenly chatters. Your form turning around to look down the same main road you’re on. Your eyes seeing some commotion in the distance as you can hear the recruit get up from his seat, ready to start the day. Your free hand coming up to the radio and responding. “10-4.”

“Already?” The recruit asks, rounding the table and leaning over to his side to put his cup in the trash as you do the same. Putting your own cup in the same trash. Xerxes is off to the side, shifting in his armor, ready to walk with the group.

“All day, everyday.” You sigh, putting your hands on the collar of your vest and turning towards where the distant, reported commotion was. The steps of the boot and Space Marine falling in behind you. The weight of the marine sending a slight vibration through the ground. One would think they would crack the concrete below them, but they seemed light on their feet. A rather spooky fact to think too much about.

Heading over to the commotion, you watch a bit as this proclaimed “crazy lady” or rather Mrs. Elwood seems more… frustrated than angry. Misunderstood perhaps. A saddening and common thing that’s been set upon the elderly people, but she seems… well, again, angry… at a male nurse?

“Right, recruit. How do we handle this situation?” You ask your boot, testing him of his knowledge in these circumstances. “Keep them together? Apart? Calm the situation?”

“Um, apart?” He answers a bit hesitantly, unsure of his own answer to give you. His fingers giving a twitch from his sides. “Don’t we calm them too?”

“We do.” You nod, continuing on to engage with the reported problem. Wanting to encourage the noobie, but he’ll need his confidence sooner or later. “Take Mrs. Elwood and I shall take this… other, unknown person.”

The boot nods, walking forward to greet the older woman while you head over to the white male nurse. You’re not sure what Xerxes would do, considering you never had an Astartes accompany you, and you know full well they are trained in ways that were more efficient in your own species. They may look human, but so does a skinwalker. So, you just let the towering man be for now. Positioning yourself to watch the nurse in front of you, and your boot. You got a job to do.

“What seems to be the problem?” You ask first, shifting your weight as you wait for the man to reply. “Baselines” you remember Xerxes calling you, and anyone that was more… human, or just smaller than him.

“This lady: Mrs. Elwood,” The man starts, a bit jittery. Is he faulting of something he did, or was he just having anxiety about what he had done? Or what happened? “I’m her nurse, so I know her on like… A nurse level, you know?”

“Yeah.” You nod, agreeing just to get more information out of him. Or when you just want a conversation to end, but you are listening.

“So, like, I see her quite a bit, right?” He continues, threading his hand through his short brown hair. Seemingly stressed. “And then suddenly she’s just… yelling at me, like I haven’t been caring for her after a few months.”

“After a few months?” You raise your brow, shifting your weight again. Having a mild guess of why her mood could switch up, and she a mostly friendly little gal of the town. “You look new here.”

“I- yeah. I am. A bit.” He stammers then pauses, making you wonder if this is his first time on the job, alone. Being alone in public or with another stranger could make one uneasy. “Just today doesn’t seem like my day. I um, I come from Elk Rise. Been transferred here.”

“Ah, Elk Rise. It’s another small town right?” You hum, remembering that rustic, cozy town. Living up to its name from having elk wandering about in the mountains to avoid the heat and bugs, and well. Those hooves animals liked to give birth up there.

“Yeah! Been there before?” He asks, looking pleased that you know of such town. His arms folding against his chest, more calm than before. Less stressed.

“Here and there with… family. Its very pretty up there when dusk or dawn arrives.” You nod again. A thing you just do automatically when listing to people, and agreeing. You do it a lot that you even notice it yourself afterward work. “I like how the sun and moon are barely casting their glow between the mountain peaks.”

“You make it sound as if its a fantasy land.” The young man jokes, scoffing playfully. Defiantly in a more better mood than what he was before.

“Eh, you’ll understand it once you get older.” You muse yourself, shaking your head slightly. “Now, do you have your ID on you? Or know your own name at least?”

“Right! Um, I’m Carson Harloe.” He perks up, most likely wanting to obey they law. His hand coming out to shake, and you take it. You hand grasping his with a nice, and rather polite shake.

“Well, Mr. Harloe. Have you been advised Mrs. Elwood has an Astartes of her own?” You ask him, tilting your head slightly. “She gets a bit… snappy you could say once he comes back.”

“What? No, I wasn’t aware.” Carson shakes his head. “I was just told to “deal with her.” The exact words from someone else of my job.”

“Hm, sounds like you’ve met Judy Welles.” You shift your weight. Not tired of standing just a bit restless. “She’s… known to not love her job but does it anyway. For some reason she has a bit of a quarrel with Mrs. Elwood. The 5’5”, dirty blond, green eyed woman, right?”

“Yeah! Seems like she's a grouchy person as well. I mean, when she was talking to me, demanding me. She did not sound like a good person.” The young nurse shifts his weight for a change.

“Yeah, this town is a bit full of Night Lords, but its rather peaceful besides the occasional break in report of a Night Lord staring at one while they sleep, and/or free, unwilling cuddles in bed.” You reflect on a quite amusing situation of this town. It wasn’t like it was owned by the Night Lord, but it was just really well known to have Night Lords around, and to be bonded to one, and believe it or not? This was one of the safest towns to be at.

“Wait, what?”

Well, perhaps its known within the town, not outside of it.

“Yeah, they mean no harm… Most of the time. Just be wise not to peeve off their bonded.” You wanted to give a huff of a laugh at his sudden realization, but you keep to your professionalism.

“B-But you just said Mrs. Elwood has one.” The man stammers, giving a quick point towards the woman that looked rather enamored with the new boot. The poor guy was getting his cheeks squished! For Xerxes? He looked like he was missile locking on everything in the area… Dose he even know how to greet the public properly?

“Yeah? Don’t be too worried about it.” Again, you shift your weight. Somewhat amused with his reaction. “These bat-like men can be rather reasonable too. It more of the World Eaters you have to watch out for. Nothing against them of course, but they have their reputation.”

“…So, your sure her Night Lord won’t launch me into the sky?” Carson asks. Hesitant for the real answer.

“At most, he would stare you down like how this Ultramarine: Xerxes is doing.” Your hand gestures over to the said blue Mairne. Who in turn looks over to you, giving you a suspicious glare. “See? Not that bad.”

“He looks like he’s going to…” He pauses, unsure of how to put his words but just says them anyway. “Like he’s going to kill you.”

“Yeah, I know. He’s been doing that since he wandered into this town.” A sigh leaves you. Another shake of your head acting out. “Though, he hasn’t done anything drastic, yet.”

A grumbled huff leaves the Ultramarine. His head twitching back as if he was offended by such a simple word. His gauntlets folding over his chest plate with a dull thud, glaring at you some more. Was this really just going to become his hobby? A long time thing? Glaring at you, and only you? You really hope not. You could ignore him, but you would honestly preferer it the other way around.

“So, like… do I need an restraining order or…?” Carson buts in, wanting a safe answer.

“Hmm?” You turn your attention back to him. “Oh, no, no. You don’t. Well, what did you do that got Mrs. Elwoods’ angry?”

“Nothing!” He exclaims lightly, throwing his arms out for a second. “I was just doing my job. Caring for for her, you know? Picking up a few things for her, giving her her meds and the company she deserves. Nothing so stupid that would have the law on me.”

You give him a look over, reading him of his truth: no averting eyes, no shaking form, he’s not sweaty either, and doesn’t smell intoxicated. He seems clean despite his worried look in those brown eyes of his. Seems more honest and devoted than Judy, at least.

“You can search me if you like!” He hold his hands up in surrender. “I have got nothing on me except medical stuff, if that counts-!”

The young man suddenly yelps, jumping up in the air and turning around to face the Night Lord behind him that has leaned down to his level to spook him a bit. His body nearly bumping into yours. “OH MY CHEEZITS!”

You give the man an amused look, looking between the two. Recognizing the Night Lord being Mrs. Elwoods. You have never caught the name of the Night Lord, but you can recognize the difference's he has with his other brethren. He had some sewed up… “fabric” you wanted to say for his “loin cloth” that he didn’t need for his armor protected him, but the particular color of the thread: bright pink, caught your attention. (No, you weren't looking at anything else.) Not only that, but he gave off a more… elderly aura. Smelled like he has a hint of- what do those old people use? Lavender? Hibiscus? Either way, he has a hint of that elderly smell on him.

“You might want the get used to that.” You muse, putting your gaze back onto the nurse. “But not too much.”

“This is what you people deal with?!” The nurse nearly hisses, but he’s more shocked? Surprised than anything. “24/7?!”

“Mhm, not 24/7, but it is a bit common.” You respond, shifting in your spot. Ready to leave this more… domestic situation behind, everything was- has calmed down with a simple talk. Even Mrs. Elwood with the way she was still cooing at the new boot. “Oh, and also? He’s going to be on you for a bit. Here and there.”

“…What?”

“Alright, boot! Xerxes! Let’s get a move on. We got more pressing reports to respond to!”

“@kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.”

“+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @marcela2000, @passionofthesith, @insanity6666.” - Tagged

[collapsedsquid]

Opus Dei is hypersensitive to bad publicity. With one exception (which Gore covers at length), it has avoided major sex scandals. But it has taken three hits in recent years: the financial scandals mentioned above; recruiting underage (i.e., fourteen- or fifteen-year old) adolescents, which many parents understandably view as too young to sign up for a lifetime of sacrifice; and several lawsuits by the Work’s “numerary assistants.” These are generally young, poor, and uneducated women in underdeveloped countries who are recruited to serve God by maintaining the houses and buildings of Opus Dei. They are trained in domestic arts, given housing and spiritual direction, and in return work up to twelve hours a day cooking, cleaning, doing laundry, and other chores. They are not paid, and they have no retirement accounts or labor contracts. They take vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, so even if they had any money and could speak the language of the country they’re working in (they often can’t), it would be a hard life. Those who try to leave and ask for help with the transition are told that they have not actually been working for Opus Dei but for one of the countless anonymous entities set up to own its individual buildings, which has no further responsibility for them. Lately some of the women have been fighting in court and in the media for restitution. Opus Dei has been resisting. If the judges in these cases could see some of the breathtakingly expensive furnishings at the organization’s headquarters in Rome, they might be moved.

[ravenclod]

kyomadosaya [ 🍎🎀🐟 ] hcs so i can recruit more people to my agenda :

fyi thse hcs apply to like an aged-up domestic life lol. maybe ill come up with current day ones if u guys want?! ^<^

begins as love triangle for 🎀 with 🍎 and 🐟 falling in love throughout and 🎀 being down bad for them both since the start

share a 2 bedroom flat, 🐟 banished to the small bedroom which is really an office at best. 🎀 and 🍎 have the actual bedrooms <- 🐟 gave them the 2 rooms, claiming she "preferred the smaller space" [ she didnt ]

🍎 cooks 🐟 cleans 🎀 organises

🎀 is very affectionate and often initiates contact everywhere once she got over her embarrassment, incl hugs, handholding, small touches on the face etc, LOTS of little kisses

🍎 is very clingy at home, shes practically glued to whoever is closest, but grumbles if you dare hold her hand in public

🐟 doesn't initiate often, but accepts any affection without complaint, and often slings arms around her gfs shoulders and/or high fives them.

🍎🐟 frequently play competitive videogames [ fav is smashbros ] and 🎀 often cheers them on, acting as damage control

🍎 often wins fighting based rpg games

🐟 is a rythym player addict

🎀 is very good at strategy, and can absolutely destroy you in mariokart

🍎🎀 go to art galleries together, while 🐟 has baseball training [ they sometimes visit her when theyre training but they complained abt being embarrassed so they stopped coming as frequently ]

🍎🐟 go on morning jogs [ 🐟 gets 🍎 up ] while 🎀 sleeps in and then makes breakfast for them

🐟🎀 read books together, and 🍎 listens to their rants [ she has no fucking clue what theyre talkikg about ]

sexuality/gender hcs just cuz !!

🍎 - lesbian, she/her but bro does not gaf

🎀 - sapphic, ace, she/her

🐟 - bi, she/they, demiromantic