#Except on missions that would be inconvenient

[narusasuart]

Here's my half of the art trade with @opens-up-4-nobody who wished for

- anybody looking after/caring for Naruto and/or Sasuke

or

- Sasuke hanging out with a bunch of cats.

Well, don't mind if I do(odle). :D

Soft and domestic SNS >>>>>

Check out their wonderful half of the trade! Thank you again, this was so fun!

I'm gonna ramble about my headcanons for this in the tags so this post doesn't get to long.

[ohmygraves]

the first time you and ghost became roommates, he didn't have a lot of things.

he had his essentials, packed in a duffel bag and like, two moving boxes and that's it. he didn't even have his own furniture or pots and pans, so the two of you didn't cook for the first few weeks living together. he seems perfectly content with just living with the furniture that came with the apartment, an old beat up sofa and dirty stained dining table, together with a few chairs and old mattresses in each bedroom. you made it a goal to get rid of the smelly bed as soon as possible, working your arse off to afford new beds for the sake of your back.

ghost, or well, simon, don't feel the need to own too many things. he thinks it's a nuisance, since well it'll be tiring to pack so many things when he needs to move again for some reason or another. even when he stayed in the barracks, his room was always the most bare out of everyone.

you were the opposite, of course. you liked having lots of personal items and memorabilia, or just trinkets that you like in general. your shared flat is full of your items, posters hung up on the wall, framed pictures, potted plants, consoles and books, whatever you have. it felt like the place was only occupied by you, and with how often simon was away on deployments and missions, it might as well be.

you both split duties when he's around. you cook, he does dishes. you take out the trash, he cleans the bathroom. you tidy things up and he'd mop/vacuum it. he insisted that you cook since he's not much of a cook himself (which, explains why he doesn't have a single kitchen utensils in his stuff) and that you're better at cooking than him. he'd gladly deal with all the dirty jobs for you, wouldn't be the worst thing he did anyway.

you and simon get groceries separately (his "groceries" consisting of some type of booze and maybe toiletries, perhaps some snacks if he's feeling fancy), but very rarely you go together with him to tesco or something. you always have to remind him to note whatever things needed to be replaced at your shared flat, so that you don't have to go multiple times just to get a bottle of dish soap or toilet paper.

you two bicker like an old married couple sometimes, because he's a smart ass and would tease you, and you'd get mad at him for eating your things or using your soap/shampoo.

sometimes you wondered if rooming with simon was a bad idea, but he had always made sure to keep your job easy for you except for a few minor inconveniences he did on purpose just so you'd scold him. he helped move furniture and do the heavy jobs for you, and not to mention he leaves you alone, never nosy or get too friendly with you. although at the same time, he expected you to do the same for him.

if he tells you when he's coming back after missions, you'd get him a treat when he gets home, some beer already chilling in the refrigerator and his favorite snacks on the counter, together with his favorite takeout dinner (of course, you'd ask for the money back. you're not made of money if you're rooming with someone). some snarky note like "shower first before you sleep, stinky" or "it's 30 pounds for everything, you're welcome".

simon didn't think much of it, but he definitely took you for granted. you're a nice roommate, you two get along, and you're a great cook. you made sure to feed him whenever possible (because you're convinced he'd actually forget to eat when he's alone, considering his groceries as mentioned before), and not to mention you made his masks and balaclava smell nice and clean when you do laundry.

you'd patiently help him sew, teach him how to mend his clothes when he has the time (which is still a funny sight seeing how small the needles looked between his thick massive fingers). he always gets frustrated, telling you that you did a much better job than his lousy stitches that wouldn't even hold up after one wear. you'd sew all tears and holes on his masks and clothes, patch the holes up when you could.

in return, he'd bring some of your favorite snacks home. he always said something along the lines that it was on sale, or that it's buy one get one free, but you noted that he always brought home your favorite things after you mended his clothes, or helped him in some way. you didn't mind, you liked the snacks and it's nice that he shows his gratitude in this way.

you try to ignore the thumping of your heart every time he hands you things while saying "reckon you'd like this."

[gatitties]

War & crack

─Task Force 141 x young!reader

─Summary: some headcanons about your life working with TF141

─Warnings: cliché¿, reader is a gen z

Part two / Halloween special

so... I've been consuming some content about CoD and I know the least about the franchise but the few things I've read have been so good that I couldn't resist writing something too 🫢, sorry if something is out of character since I don't know many things

— You are a threat to society.

— Your parents sent you to the military in the hope that your bad behaviors would disappear, realistically, they were not prepared to be parents either.

— Parental neglect, what a surprise.

— You had many bad influences in your adolescence and free access to the Internet without parental control was like throwing gasoline on the fire.

— Theft, extortion, assault, harassment, banditry, disobedience to authority, fraud, driving without a license, breaking and entering, kidnapping, arson, arms trafficking...

— You had a good record of minor criminal records, the vast majority due to bad friends, but you were already an accomplice.

— Which led you to the fact that when you reached the age of majority, you were enlisted directly into the army without being able to have a choice.

— It wasn't as bad as you thought except for the amount of physical exercise you were subjected to, but you knew how to put up with it.

— Despite being young, in the three years that you served as a cadet, you were sent to many missions, perhaps with the hope of dying since the generals sent you to the front lines of the battle.

— You didn't care, you were feral, careless enough and craving adrenaline, you liked to dance with death in every fight.

— You were the first to run whenever you could to start the attack, after all, all you liked to do was hit, stab or use close-range weapons.

— You lost an arm because of that, you didn't care much because now you have a prosthesis with decorations to your liking.

— Then you were sent to Task Force 141.

— None of the boys expected someone like you, they definitely had a bit of a hard time adjusting to your personality.

— You were a strange combination between Ghost and Soap, going from being a grave to being an explosion of emotions at any moment.

— The first time you saw Ghost you thought he was giving you a side eye and you gave it back to him.

— Later you learned that it's his normal look but you give him the dead look every once in a while.

— Soap and you are not a good combination when you know each other better, he will just give you approval to all the stupid things you see on the internet.

— Gaz might join, but most of the time he just warns you that Price won't be amused.

— Price will look at you like a parent disgusted (but not surprised) by some of your nonsense.

— Confidence sucks, and when you're spouting darkly humorous jokes or about the ways you want to kill yourself because something goes wrong, Price isn't in that boat.

— It's not worth it if you justify it with 'my traumas, my jokes'.

— Honestly, everyone is worried about the number of times you've said you were going to kill yourself for the slightest inconvenience.

— They don't understand most of your current meme references, maybe Gaz, being the second youngest, will pick up on something.

— They were so confused with your attack tactics, because you had practically none, you just jumped in with luck to hit everything you could, which worked every time.

— You will train with Ghost because you are not aware of your surroundings when it comes to fighting.

— The first time they saw your prosthesis they thought a bullet had hit you in the arm, but when you laughed and removed the metal arm shouting 'everything is possible when you're physically disabled' they swallowed their concern.

— You show affection with punches, you punch Soap's shoulder, Gaz's back or Price's side, Ghost... you prefer to communicate with your eyes because the last time you punched him in a friendly way you almost ended up with your shoulder out of its place.

— They can't take you seriously, they really do try but it's impossible, you look like an impulsive teenager who they are babysitting even if you're in your twenties.

— At least it's like that outside the battlefield, you get more serious or focused on the missions.

— Gaz saves your ass whenever you get distracted, which is most of the time, you tell him that he has won heaven but if death wanted to kiss you you weren't going to refuse the offer.

— Seriously, stop with the jokes about your death or depression, Price will get you a psychologist.

— It seems like a joke but Ghost and you end up getting along quite well, it's a quiet and pleasant dynamic, without pressure.

— As with Soap, you know how to adapt a lot to everyone's personalities, as if you were a sponge that absorbs all the likes and disappointments of the boys to get along better.

— You don't give a shit about your own life but you're fighting tooth and nail to protect others.

— Which leads you to almost die once, on top of that, Price scolded you for jumping to try to save them, you didn't care, you'll do it again.

— Squeaks or bangs in the wee hours of the morning? It's you moving the few pieces of furniture in what you can call your own room.

— Someday you'll give the boys a heart attack (Ghost maybe not) because you walk in the dark at night since you tend to stay up late.

— Price will scold you for not sleeping well and drinking so many energy drinks or coffee.

— You will leave random objects in the boys' rooms, like, last time you bought little ducks of different colors and hid them.

— Price denies with a small smile when he sees a yellow duck with a cowboy hat as a paperweight.

— Gaz laughs when he sees a blue duck with an aviator hat in the drawer where he kept his records.

— Soap finds a yellow duck with an umbrella hat next to his bath stuff and fiddles with it when he has time for a long bath.

— Ghost narrows his eyes at the sight of a black duck with sunglasses and gold chains under a pile of clothes in his room, he sighs leaving it in the small window of his room as decoration.

— You are strictly prohibited from bringing any type of animal into the base of operations as a pet, once you wanted to have a raccoon, a tarantula, a snake, you even named a cockroach you saw in the kitchen.

—Just- no.

— So you chose to have a carnivorous plant as a pet, it was acceptable at least.

— You are also prohibited from cooking without supervision.

— You're like a new world for them, but honestly, they wouldn't know what they would do if something happened to you now that you've earned their love.

[twilightkitkat]

OK QUESTION with the one series with the different universe we see how you think the X-Men would react to a similar Logan being so close with Deadpool.

BUT

How do you think our main universe reacts to the relationship especially when they compare this new Logan to the fallen hero?

This is such an interesting question that I thought about it for a while before answering because I wanted to do it justice. Firstly, I want to clarify that my answer takes place in a world where all the X-men are miraculously alive somehow except for Logan (maybe by some time shenanigans or just twisting the plot).

---

The world at large would be shocked to see The Wolverine again, especially after he was confirmed dead and his bones were buried. The TVA wouldn't want the entire world to know about them, and Logan and Wade would probably be the type to never really formally address his existence (since they aren't actually official heroes or a government body).

His resurrection would likely spark a lot of conspiracy theories and people wondering if he had a secret mission where he pretended to die or if he had a reason to stage his death. It's almost like the urban legend of Bigfoot with how rarely he shows up (somehow always next to the same red vigilante).

Aside from the initial shock, the public reception would be very positive. Who wouldn't want to see your childhood superhero back in action again? People would be excited to see him rejoin the X-men only to be extremely confused when he showed no interest in returning to his superhero work (especially when they assumed he either died and came back or was on a mission and so would naturally want back his spot).

As a matter of fact, after initial sightings of him in his suit, he just sort of... fades away. He never really makes public appearances or is involved in much of anything. He looks different than he did before and he always dresses casually. This combined with the lack of media about him after the initial outrage means that he only occasionally gets recognized in public.

(Something he's secretly very grateful for. He disliked being reminded of his past, of a world where he wasn't a failure. Of the version of him that was revered instead of feared and hated. He has to stop himself from flinching sometimes when people loudly yell out, "It's The Wolverine!" He lays low for a while in Wade's apartment, only accompanying him sometimes on covert missions until people mostly stop caring about his existence.)

But more than public confusion is the confusion of the X-men. They heard the truth through Colossus that this Wolverine was from another universe than their own and that he'd helped save their timeline.

(And most of the X-men were very confused because... why does Colossus know this of all people? Why didn't Logan just come to tell them himself? They knew Colossus was in cahoots with this vigilante vaguely from the time he visited the mansion, but they didn't know he was actually close to him. And why did being Deadpool's friend give him exclusive access to The Wolverine and his situation?)

They expected Logan to show up at their doorstep, one day. He apparently had the X-men in his own world, and while Colossus never really elaborated further (despite their prodding) they could surmise something happened to them if Logan was staying here. It's a perfect fit: the X-men who lost their Wolverine and the Wolverine who lost his X-men.

But he never does. At first, they chalk it up to him going on one of his solo trips. He liked to do that—to go out into the wilderness or disappear on some unspecified mission. He never really stayed in one place too long. (It was his personality, wasn't it? He got antsy being tied down to commitment and wanted to be free from everyone. It was fine even if it was inconvenient, it was just how he was.)

But then he never makes an effort to get involved. To reach out to them. He doesn't show any interest at all in returning to his old life or taking up the helm of an X-man again.

This Logan couldn't be all that different from theirs, right? Even if he was a lone wolf type who kept up his guard and acted gruffly, he only really had them. They took him in and fed him and clothed him and he showed up when shit went sideways in return. A perfect, neat, package with a bow on top.

But then a month passes. Then two. And even if he was the type to do his own thing, this was a little ridiculous. He'd just come back to life and didn't even bother showing up?

They all cornered Colossus, one day. Asked him about his well-being and what he was doing. Why he wasn't reaching out and when they should expect him to come back.

His answer shocked them. Apparently, Logan wasn't out on a mission at all. Instead, he was staying with Deadpool at his apartment and just... living there. Existing. He wasn't even particularly busy, he just hadn't visited. When they inquired further, Colossus smiled slightly and said that he seemed happy there. Content. That Wade was good for Logan and Logan was good for him, too.

It was... hard to wrap their heads around. Logan—fierce, closed-off, restless—just staying in one place? Content to just live with someone and accompany them on mercenary jobs.

Since when did Logan prefer teamwork? He always tried to turn joint missions into solo ones, and went out of his way to brush people off.. More than that—Logan, a mercenary? He'd rather pick up illegal work for some extra cash than return to being a hero? To being with them? Why did he decide to stay in a shitty apartment taking shady jobs for rent instead of just staying for free at their mansion? It made no sense.

It all came to a head when Laura (who'd been staying with them but largely kept to herself around the X-men) had her birthday party. They had parties often for the children in the mansion, that wasn't anything new. Except for the fact that the Wolverine was coming. She'd been excited when she mentioned that both Logan and Wade were going to show up (they didn't even know she'd stayed in touch with them).

(Why was the first time they saw Logan at a birthday party for someone else? Were they not enough? They'd taken him in despite his... difficult personality. What more did he want?)

And Logan comes. But he's entirely different than their Logan, the one they remember.

He's more... relaxed, somehow. He looks less hostile and cagey, letting his muscles relax and his head lean back. He looks like a man content with life instead of the guy who ran away the first chance he got, who always had an itch under his skin to move and never stayed too long.

He sticks to Wade like glue. They're always touching, somehow. An arm around the shoulders, a hand placed firmly on Wade's waist, fingers intertwined, legs pressed together. Logan is touchy in a way he never was with them.

And the way he looks at Wade—like he hung the stars and the moon and the sky itself. Even when they try to catch his eye from across the room, to get him to come over, he doesn't pay attention. His eyes are firmly locked on Wade's face, a warmth there (a softness) that they'd never seen before.

Wade gawks at the mansion and its decoration, flitting between Colossus and Negasonic and Yukio, gleefully grabbing some of the food. And Logan stays by his side the whole time, only watching him, murmuring in his occasionally which makes Wade either jab him in the elbow or cackle.

(And Logan lets him. He doesn't even retaliate aside from a grunt when Wade punches him in the arm, rolling his eyes and flicking his forehead in return but entirely content to let Wade at him. The trust there was so obvious it was painful. The familiarity. The warmth.)

The first time Logan takes his eyes off Wade is when Laura comes up to them. His eyes soften as he looks at her, almost imperceptibly if not for the fact that in their memories, his eyes were always hard. Guarded. They could count on one hand the number of times they saw even a semblance of that expression, normally involving Jean or Rogue.

Laura hugs him, grinning as she prattles on about whatever she'd been doing lately. Logan hugs her back, arms coming to wrap firmly around her. Easy affection. She pulls back and Wade hugs her too, spinning her around in the air as she laughs and hits him and asks him to put her down.

When Logan looks at them, the fondness is so obvious it's painful. They were used to seeing Logan show emotion—anger, sadness, fear, arousal. But never softness. (Especially not for a tumor-ridden mercenary and an experiment built off of his DNA.)

The party continues like that, with Logan leaning against Wade and basking in his presence. Hiding in his shadow when he's tired, leaning his forehead against Wade's shoulder.

Until they finally decide to approach them. Scott and Jean hold hands as they approach him for the first time, tired of observing him all night. Storm follows closely behind.

"Logan, nice seeing you man. It's, uh, been a while," Scott smiles crookedly at him. He expects Logan to respond how he normally does. To grin back, insult him, and start up their typical banter.

Like a well-oiled machine, they kept their rivalry going. Logan and Scott would act like they hated each other in public and fight like children over Jean until she inevitably chose Scott (and then it'd repeat). Sometimes, in the quiet of the night or an emotional moment, they'd become more. But that was rare, and Scott preferred the comfortable rhythm they normally kept to.

But Logan barely looked at him, nodded, and then turned back to Wade as he talked about some kid's show.

"Logan, that was a little rude, don't you think? We haven't heard from you in a while, it's good to see you're doing well." Jean lightly scolded him before letting her face melt into a smile. It was meant to be welcoming. Kind.

Scott tightened his arm around Jean. He knew Jean would always choose him, in the end, but it was annoying to see Logan flirt with her. She'd entertain him enough, and occasionally the three would wind in bed together in a moment of passion. But Jean was his, in the end.

Except, Logan didn't react. He just grunted in response. When his eyes met Jean's they were completely devoid of any attraction. He didn't flirt with her or pay her any attention. His eyes were solely on Wade.

It was only when Wade's eyes flicked toward them and he waved that Logan bothered to acknowledge their existence.

"Oh, hey! You guys are the real deal! The original X-men! The ones that took the 2000s by storm and made Marvel a shit ton of money," he rambled. His face was... interesting, to say the least.

Logan snorted. "Did you not expect to see the X-men in the X-mansion, bub?" The first time he verbally admitted they were even there.

"Considering the budget on my previous movies? Fuck no. It was too expensive to even have a good cameo, let alone actually have them on screen for more than a minute to have a conversation."

...What the hell was he talking about? He sounded clinically insane. And Logan was living with this guy?

But Logan laughed, genuinely, and it was like the world stopped spinning. He smiled and his eyes wrinkled, forming crescents. He teased Wade back in response, but they were stuck in that moment.

Logan was never like that. Never open, never soft. He cared, in a distant way, but he never really stayed. (Was it really that? Was it that he never tried to stay, or that they never gave him reason to? That they never gave him the chance before shutting the door in his face.)

But here it was. Physical proof that he was capable of looking at someone so softly. Of melting his hard exterior and becoming someone softer. Someone capable of cherishing the person they loved, of being domesticated.

Because there was really no other way than "domesticated" to describe him. He used to be like a wild animal—all sharp edges, jagged teeth, and razor-sharp claws. He snarled and growled at anyone who got too close and cornered him. He'd drop by for food, but snatch it and run off.

(But that's the thing about wild animals, isn't it? To get them to calm down, to stop seeing you as a threat, you need to be patient. To reach out. To prove you're safe. Did they ever really try?)

And now he even looked different. His hard muscles had filled out with a layer of fat. He looked healthy, like he wasn't just a tool built to fight and gnaw on the scraps he was given. He looked like a person who went home and ate a warm, balanced dinner at night. Who got adequate sleep and had all of his needs taken care of.

They thought that Logan's personality was rough, sharp, and jagged. That he was just Like That, and that it was useless to try to change it.

(After all, the bad boy is just someone you flirt with. Not someone you take him. Jean had said that, hadn't she?

And Logan had told her he could be the "good guy." Tried to show that he was capable of being more than just how he acted when he was hurt and alone. But she brushed it off. They all did.

And yet here Logan was. Soft and entranced by Wade in a way he never had been, even with her. Looking at him with something so much deeper than lust or attraction or infatuation. Looking at him with devotion. Reverence. Complete and utter love.)

But Logan wasn't Like That. He had always wanted to be soft. To be able to curl up next to somebody and trace the curve of their spine with his fingertips. He'd always yearned for a home he could feel genuinely warm in, where he'd be accepted and allowed to be vulnerable even if it wasn't pretty.

He'd only been hard because he had to. Because if he wasn't, the biting words and indifference of everyone around him would cut so deep he'd never recover. Because if he let himself love and be vulnerable with the X-men and they still viewed him as a passerby, as a tool, as an outsider, as just someone to sleep with—he'd break.

But Wade gave him a home. Gave him the chance to finally love and be loved and not feel afraid. To finally relax and open up. To show his emotions without fear of being scorned and to know he'd always be taken seriously. To not just be seen as the bad boy, but as a broken man desperate for anyone to cling to and feel cared for.

He was finally seen as more than just a stereotype. He was seen and loved for he was.

He was used to being hidden. Like a shameful secret. Jean was embarrassed to like him. Scott hid him away during the night and fought him during the day. He was a temptation, but that was it. They'd always choose each other first. Every member of the X-men had their person, but he was nobody's.

But with Wade, for the first time in his life, he was the first choice. He was the priority. He got to eat at the table instead of being fed scraps thrown onto the floor.

Logan thought it was natural to be treated as lesser. To be an afterthought. But with Wade, who cradled his face like he was something precious and was willing to die for him, he realized that he could be loved just as fiercely as he loved Wade. As an equal. As partners.

And so when he saw the X-men, he reacted the same way they had all those years ago: with indifference. With the same detached care he'd grown so used to. He spared them the effort of a few words, of reluctant acknowledgment, but that was it. If they never wanted to look closer at him or care about his needs, it was fine. But he'd do the same.

After all, there was so need to scramble to collect crumbs when he was well-fed. There was no need to look for a shitty room in an empty-feeling mansion when he already had a home.

[notanactressyayy]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭'𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡

pairing . Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary . two girls with a pure heart and the will to do the best things in the world, but forced to do the one they would never dream of doing.

warnings . red room, suicidal thoughts (lmk if i have to add more.)

notes . i'm sick, got a really bad flu — and those are somehow the only times i get inspiration to write (also when depressed <3) this one goes through red room era, so both Nat and reader are little. english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors.

divider credits: @iwonbin, @iluvrei

your 'parents' had left. they went to the store, so the house was all yours. Natasha was curled up on the corner of the couch, watching intently the movie playing on the television screen. her eyebrows were slightly furrowed, eyes narrowing at the screen. you could tell she wasn't watching the movie. she was paying attention to the actors performance, how they expressed their emotion, how they behaved in front of the cameras.

"you'd want to be an actress?" you ask softly, making her jump slightly, breaking her trance.

"maybe." she simply replies, shrugging her shoulders. she sighs and leans back against the backrest, grabbing the remote and fidgeting with it. "you?"

"i think it would be fun." you giggle, eyebrows raising as a bunch of little scenarios played on your head. "not necessarily a movie star. just.. be able to show people how i actually feel, you know?"

Natasha hums, a small smile tugging on her lips. it was the one job that was the complete opposite from your daily life — that was what being a spy was like, hide your emotions, hide from people, hide hide hide. from everything. absolutely no one knew you — neither you did, since you had to change identities every year or so.

"i think, you could do absolutely anything you ever want to do." she says, pointing her finger at you. "if you become an actress, i will be in your every premiere, watch all your interviews, and be the first one to buy the tickets for your movies,"

you laugh, playfully slapping her finger away. "you smartass,"

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

silence filled the house as everybody went to sleep, except for you and Natasha, of course. you always stayed awake late, even if one of the rules was go to sleep at 8:30pm. you both jumped out of bed quietly and hurried to open the blinds, so you could see the starry sky.

"do they really think we're asleep?" you inquire with a smirk, sitting down on the cold tile floor and patting the space between your legs.

Natasha sits down with you and carefully leans her weight against you, her head on your chest. "if you keep shouting like that they might figure it out."

you shake your head at her sarcasm and chuckle. your eyes drift to her hair, the pink strands illuminated by the moonlight. you carefully grab a few of them and begin braiding them. "when are you going to Ohio?"

and when she was about to relax, you ask the most inconvenient question in the most inconvenient time. why did you have to bring up that? Ohio was not a mission like this one — she'd meet other widows, future widows, you weren't gonna be there. and she didn't want to be away from you.

you notice how she stays silent, and decide not to push. you finish the two little braids on her short hair and coaxes her head back to your chest, arms wrapping around her.

"do you think," Natasha begins, quietly, as if this was a topic she'd like to avoid. she gulps, eyes locked on the twinkling stars. "do you think we would be happier if we weren't here?"

the question wasn't direct, but you understood perfectly. being a normal girl meant never being in the red room, which meant never meeting each other. that was a tough one, but the answer was obvious.

"yeah," you nod, shrugging, pondering. "you know, Natalia? i think that even if we were born in different families, somehow the universe would find a way for us to meet."

she smiles, feeling a warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest. something rare. something that didn't happen often. it quickly faded, but she appreciated that. "i hope so. because right now? i'd throw myself down this window if i could."

"so would i," you chuckle humorlessly. the life of a widow would never end up with joy, you both knew what you were submitted to.

she shifts her body, pulling her head back a little to look in your eyes. she didn't have to speak for you to understand. gratitude, longing, pain. "moya malenkaya zvezdochka, (my little star),"

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

"we're leaving!" you yell, a smile on your face as you watched Natasha finish adjusting her white dress. she wore black chucks and her hair was down. out of every style she ever played, this was the one you most liked. dresses.

"where are you going?" your 'mom' asks, her smile widening as she sees her daughters all dressed up.

"just riding our bikes!" you answer, putting your hair up on a ponytail and putting your shoes on. "we're not going too far, promise!"

"okay! come back before five!" the woman answers as you run out of the house, grabbing your bikes and hopping on them.

"—back before five," Natasha mimicks her with a silly face and a high pitched voice, coaxing a laugh out of you. "we know mom. you tell us that every freaking day."

and with that, you both go pedalling to downtown, which was yes, a little too far from home. Italy was very beautiful, sunny, full of joyful people around. sometimes you hated that. Natasha suddenly stops as you pass through a little flower shop. it was tiny, and the grandpa behind the counter seemed kind.

"would Natalia like to receive a flower bouquet today?" you try a rough voice, which made her laugh. you hop out of the bike and run in the store.

"ciao, bambina! (hi, little one!)" the man exclaims, his happiness almost surprising you.

"hey!" you match his good humor and point at a colorful bouquet on a basket. "how much for these?"

"these are 50 euros, but for you, young lady, i can make.. 49!" he laughs, grabbing the bouquet and carefully handing it to you.

you raise an eyebrow at the joke, grabbing the coins from your pocket and placing them on the counter. after he counts everything, you don't even say goodbye before running to Natasha again.

"here you go, malyshka, (sweetheart)," you politely bow and hand her the flowers, feigning chivalry. it seemed stupid, but her smile seemed way too genuine for your liking.

she grabs the bouquet and smell the flowers, a small tear runs down her cheek, which she quickly wipes away. "thank you,"

you nod, a little heat creeping up your cheeks. you would never receive flowers, neither from a romantic partner, nor a relative — that was for sure, so you did it, even if it wasn't real.

oh, how much she wanted to say the three forbidden words right now.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

it was raining, heavily.

the time was approaching. the time..

the time for the Sicily mission was almost over. general Dreykov, along with his soldiers would soon be there to retreat you, just like the police. it was always like that.

"come on!" Natasha calls, extending her hand for you as she steps out of the house. "we got to go,"

"gonna get a cold, Natalia," you laugh, grabbing her hand and stepping out as well. you immediately got drenched in water, shivering from the coldness.

"are you scared?" she mocks, shaking her head.

pink droplets of pink hair dye fell down the concrete ground, a colorful contrast of what it used to be. her hair would soon be blue. you didn't like that.

"where are we going?" you ask, running with Natasha as she took off the yard, leaving the household.

"anywhere," she yells back to you, running across the sidewalk, as you followed behind. you rolled your eyes slightly, shrugging.

as you ran, the cacophony of the city could soon be heard. probably your parents would realize you weren't home and call the cops or something. but that didn't matter. not when you were both trained spies. you found a small park — which was empty due the rain — and sat on one of the benches.

"i don't know if we'll meet again after this," you say quietly, finger traveling upwards to tuck a strand of pink behind her ear. "you're going to America. i'm returning to Asia. and the chance of us being paired up again is so small—"

"i love you," she interrupts, voice weak and almost tired. "gosh, i always wanted to tell you that."

your eyes widen, a mixture of foreign emotions filling your being at her confession. "i love you, too,"

"when we grow up, i'll marry you." she smiles, scooting closer. "and we'll live a happy life. we'll have a picket fence and a birdhouse. we'll have a cat and a dog and probably adopt a kid,"

tears run down your cheeks, blending with the rain droplets. you nod, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck, a hug she quickly returned.

"chertovski nespravedlivyy mir, (goddamn unfair world,)" you murmur against her skin, pulling back to look into her eyes.

"it is," she agrees, placing her palm on your cheek. "it's ironic. i'm glad you're here with me. but i don't want you to. i don't want either of us to be here."

"but we are," you whisper, taking a quick glance to the people around, seeing their gaze almost burning you. "that's how life is, i guess."

and with that, you and Natasha lost each other — having to cling to the memories, to the small comfort they brought.

because a widow never had a happy ending.

to be continued..?

[m3hgumi]

— when you have period cramps

a/n: me at any minor inconvenience: omg more content 😍😍 cramps are hurting so bad and i was thinking about them … ooo the voices THE FUCKING VOICES

i’ll also be splitting the hcs into two parts with other characters so it’s easier to post

pairings: itadori yuji x f!reader, fushiguro megumi x f!reader, gojo satoru x f!reader

genres: fluff, hurt/comfort

word count: 853

itadori yuji

baby was so scared and terrified and confused at first

he’s never had to deal with something like this before, having no female family members or relatives

so to say the least he was stumped

you tried to brush it off saying you were okay and the pain would pass until another wave of sharp stabbing pain hit your side

that’s when you told him to get the pain killers cause this was gonna be a Very Long Week

once you explained to him the horrors of being a woman with a functioning uterus, he didn’t hesitate to grab (steal) a heating pad from nobara’s room (which almost led to disaster, thankfully you had stepped in and no damage was done)

he hates seeing you in pain and tries so hard to make sure you’re comfortable

he’ll have you laying your head in his lap, sprawling the rest of you body on the sofa or bed of your dorm, and ruffle your hair as the two of you watch your favorite show or movie

when you’re napping, he’ll try to cook you something to keep your energy up and endure the pain

i bet he tries to look up recipes for meals that help with period cramps

and tries to cook them for you 🥹

even if he’s not the greatest cook, you appreciate those meals better than any craving you’ve had for the rest of the week

megumi fushiguro

he’s gone through this many times with tsumiki before so he knows exactly what to do

prepare a heating pad, stock up on pain meds, get her usual cravings and everything would be fine

though her cramps weren’t as painful (or so he thought, she just hid how painful they were from him) as he found yours to be, so he had to do a little bit more to help you alleviate the pain

including routine cuddles, plenty of kisses, many many blankets, and the occasional peace and quiet for your naps

he has your period tracker synced to his phone so he knows in advance when to stock up on any supplies you’ll need to get through the hellish time of shark week

he’d cancel any plans he may have had with nobara and yuji to stay with you (mad respect 🙏)

he’ll also summon his demon dogs for emotional support, even if it’s not allowed in the dorms (he’s such a real one 😭☝️)

he also has his phone notifications off so all of his attention is focused on getting you through this hellish week (ok but mans needs to catch a break too)

he’ll let you play with his hair as a distraction from the pain

if you ask for cuddles his face will get super red but he’ll oblige after

eventually he’d stop you from consuming all of chocolate and chips that is your cravings and get you to eat an actual meal

he won’t mind if you start complaining or yelling at him about something insignificant (like the temperature in the room being too low) because he knows it’s just the pain talking

instead he’ll pull you even further to his touch, soothing you and hopefully getting your mind farther away from your uterus twisting itself

gojo satoru

for ONCE his sweets stash under his bed is finally useful for someone other than him 🔥

i can imagine teen gojo first seeing you in pain and laughing (geto probably smacked him real good after that)

“wowww women have it SOOO hard 🙄” “OF COURSE YOU WOULDNT KNOW YOU ASSH-“

he has everything stocked up and ready for that time of the month: from pads to heating pads to pain meds (lots of them) and most importantly SO MANY SWEETS

he definitely uses this time of the month as an excuse to go out and buy an exorbitant amount of candy that will most definitely leave the two of you with diabetes

he’ll also bail out on any meetings or missions (except the ones with his students, he can’t leave them) so he could stay with you

if for any reason he can’t be physically be there, he’ll be on speed dial or he’ll get nanami or shoko to keep you company

you tell him not to worry and don’t bother staying since the pain will pass on its own and isn’t really anything to worry about, but he insists anyways

when he’s not busy he’s either cuddling you or having you wrapped around his arms, passing the time by watching his shitty collection of movies or any of your favorite shows

he’s definitely gonna feed you the giant chocolate cake he bought from the bakery down the street (and feed himself some ofc)

since gojo is just a giant pillow anyways, falling asleep on him isn’t much of a problem, even if your insides are attacking you with the worst pain ever

i’ve mentioned this in hcs before but he ABSOLUTELY has a whole album of pics where you’re sleeping on his shoulder or lap, cuddles are not excluded

(ok this is getting too long i should stop)

[caramel-maveeato]

ᴅᴀʏ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ♡˚₊。。。

❧❤ SYNOPSIS: baby fever is in the air… ♡ Pairings/Love interest: So Mun x GN!reader ♡ Genre: fluff ♡ TW: So Mun being a husband material ♡ word count: 2k

Note: All characters originated from “The Uncanny Counter/Amazing Rumor” except for Y/n.

English is not my first language!!! Sorry in advance if I make any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

“Just one day! One day and I’ll go pick her up as soon as possible!”

“…Fine. You better not leave her to me overnight again.”

A weary sigh slid out of you as your friend hung up. You were now completely left isolated in your living room with her four-month-old, round eyes gluing on you with wonder. 

It wasn’t like you disliked kids, you were just unsuited to keep one around when the responsibility and unexpectancy of being a counter were holding a knife to your throat. For example, what if you had to leave her alone for missions when some evil spirits popped up? Maybe you were just letting loose your overthinking habit, but this certain “job” was always full of unforeseen occasions. 

However, all uncertainty vanished as there was a pull on the hem of your shirt by small, chubby fingers. You felt your composure peace out at that sunshiny smile and it took you less than one second to haul the infant into your lap, internally collapsing in cuteness overload while texting Hana that you needed to take a day off due to “unpredicted inconvenience.”

You were prepared to spend your peaceful rest day until the sound of your doorbell abruptly chimed in just thirty minutes after you informed your teammate. You picked the sweetheart up and approached the front door, wondering who would possibly be standing in front of your house at 10 a.m. if it wasn’t the delivery man. 

Turning the brass doorknob with anticipation, you watched as the door revealed your boyfriend, who was standing under the warm glow of the mid-morning sun. A faint, knowing smile played on his lips, mirroring your own sense of elation at his arrival. 

“Hi…” So Mun trailed off upon seeing the bundle of happiness in your arms, paving the way for a vague gasp and a look of pure exhilaration to emerge: “Whose baby is this?!�� 

“Mine, obviously.” He playfully pulled a face at your words, completely unamused by the apparent lie. You chuckled, explaining: “I ‘stole’ her from a friend. Some urgent family things came up so I’ll be in charge of this cutie until she comes back later. Why are you here, by the way?”

He gave the little girl a tiny wave before turning to you: “Just wanted to check whether or not something happened. Also Ms. Chu said if no evil spirits show up today, I can leave for the rest of the day too.”

As much as you refrained from displaying too-obvious excitement by your boyfriend’s presence, it already appeared crystal clear just how notably happy you‘ve turned: “Let’s hope no third wheeler would interrupt us.” 

When a baby was in sight, most people tended to head for the little chubby face before anything else. So Mun was not the exception. He stared at the girl—who was also staring at him without blinking—and carefully extended his index finger: “Can I?”

“Of course!” That was all it took for him to nudge his finger on one of her plump cheeks, smiling widely when the squishiness melted on the tip of his digit like a marshmallow.

“Oh my god!! Look at how soft she is!”

You laughed, enjoying how he went smitten over an infant before taking his hand: “Let’s go, you’re not going to stay outside all day just poking her face, right?” 

He followed your footsteps through the living room: “I can if you insist.”

“Luckily I won’t.”

All three of you settled down on the couch. The sweetheart chewed on her tiny thumb while she comfortably nestled on your lap, eyes glistening like two gemstones of fascination in return for the bright smile So Mun gave her. He leaned down to poke her cheek again: 

“What’s her name?”

“Bora.” You answered, chuckling at how joyfully he beamed just from Bora reaching out to grab his finger, cooing the softest of whispers in her own language on behalf of you calling her name. 

“Aww. Hi Bora! I’m So Mun-oppa, nice to meet you.” His voice unconsciously eased into a more childish, playful tone. Bora’s chubby hand grasped around his finger to explore the unique touch coming from someone she hadn’t seen before. The difference in size was laughable, yet exceptionally cute. 

The air was perfumed with melodic gurgles and murmurs, easily dissolving anyone’s heart into slush. You dipped your head to make eye contact with So Mun, directly bringing up the suggestion: “Do you want to try holding her? Like, holding holding.”

He pointed to himself, eyes slightly widened as if not expecting you to ask this: “You sure? I’ve never held a baby before…”

“Don’t worry, I'll make sure you won't drop her.” The answer slipped out as naturally and confidently as if you were speaking a matter of fact. You lifted Bora off your lap, moving over to him with unfaltering trust. 

Holding a baby was not only an act of affection but, furthermore, a timeless configuration of art. You started off by showing him how to support Bora’s fragile head and neck. Her little skull was cradled in the palm of his hand by his trembling fingers, which were loaded with the pressure of responsibility. 

You guided her body to rest against his chest with the utmost attention. The delicate yet soul-stirring feeling of carrying such a beautiful miracle built his heartbeat in synchrony with your own, each breath conveyed nervous euphoria. His other arm carefully curled to surround her lower body in a loving cocoon, embosoming the bundle of innocence with his warmth. 

With reverence, he let out a contented sigh while admiring how perfectly the girl fit in his embrace. His whispering voice became hushed and almost inaudible as if he were afraid that even a single noise could startle her: “She’s so adorable, what should I do now?” 

“I don’t know, keep holding her?” You had to fight for your life inwardly to not snatch some photos from such a heartwarming view, not knowing if you should focus on him or on Bora. 

“I am planning to do that.” He started swaying her with a slow, steady pace, a bit clumsily but wholesome nonetheless. 

You quickly grabbed some of Bora’s favorite colorful toys, wiggling them in front of her while you and him attempted to make silly faces. Her soft giggle sparked like a star during the night, quickly expanded into a whole sky of glitter. 

“Oh my god, we’re making her laugh!” Seeing the effect they had on Bora, he seemed to get even more excited than her. The laughter spread as vigorously as a wildfire that infected you with merriment, both at how precious the little cutie was and how hilariously you two were acting. 

Bora looked up at So Mun with her eyes like twin constellations of delight, following each of his movements with tireless attention. Her faint breaths against his skin as she bloomed a toothless smile, unbridled chuckles singing like a symphony that both of you couldn’t help but melt: “She seems to really like you. So this is the ultimate power of being handsome, I can tell.” 

He squinted with a smile, bashfully nudging your side as he caught you throwing a cheeky wink: “You’re embarrassing me…” 

“Just admit you like it, babe.”

The three of you spent the whole day eating and engaging in playful activities together (with you and So Mun occasionally getting into plushies-fighting battles, no plushies were harmed during the process) until your friend came back from her trip later that evening. 

You shared your introductions and goodbyes, ignoring an itty-bitty tug in your chest when you now ought to hand the sweetie back to her mother. It was hysterical how you unreasonably felt like a parent escorting their kid to kindergarten for the first time when this wasn’t even your kid. It was only because the day that had passed felt like such a magical adventure, and you admitted that never in your life was babysitting this memorable. 

How wonderful would it be for the moment to last a bit longer…

At least this statement earned an approving thumbs up from, believe it or not, Bora. 

Your friend cupped the little girl’s tiny torso, deliberately removing her from So Mun’s hug, her voice soothing and tender in hankering to reunite with her daughter after an exhausting day: “Let’s go home, dear. Mommy is so sorry for making you wait this long.”

Though, nothing seemed to successfully detach the baby from him, the pulls on her body converted into pulls on his sweater, which her hand was clutching onto with an impressively tight grasp. The more they tried to tug her away from So Mun, the more her cherubic face contorted unpleasantly as a warning before a tentative whimper was molded, and finally, a swelling cry.

‘Awkward’ was a minimization to describe the atmosphere, all three of the elders exchanged looks in puzzlement. 

Each whine intensified after each second, every sound was a sincere plea that tugged at the heartstrings. Your friend bit her lip, along with you not knowing if she should crack up or freak out at her daughter’s sudden change of heart: “Bora-ah, w–what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

You noticed So Mun shooting you a panicked look before turning back to the little one, trying to mitigate her harrowing cry with the gentlest jiggles and back strokes: “Don’t cry… You’re a good girl, right? So don’t cry.” 

Bora clung onto him with an iron grip as she mewled, curling into a tiny ball and tucking herself against his chest. It was both sweet and surprising how fast she became attached to him, but it also didn't seem like the right time to laugh so you only let out a quiet titter, moving your attention back to her tubby fingers and trying to unhitch them from his clothes. 

“Bora-ah, look at me.” He tilted his head to reach eye level with the girl, his voice consoling like a mellifluous lullaby and a murmur of the wind; you were unaware that, simply by watching, you were also struck with profound adoration: “Oppa promises we’ll see each other again, okay?”

It took them about 10 minutes to separate her from So Mun. And this was obtained as solid proof that your boyfriend wasn’t just good with kids, he could even mesmerize them without acknowledging it. 

During that teary-eyed leave-taking, you spotted your friend gesturing something with her mouth to forward a nonverbal message to you, which you recognized as:

“He’s a keeper.”

Heat blazed on your cheeks, but that didn’t stop you from pridefully accepting the comment: “He sure is.”

Bonus:

It was undeniable that Bora has grown to be significantly bonded with So Mun since the time they first saw each other. But as her uncertified “daycare provider,” you were still proudly her favorite person in the house every time she came over. 

Your gut clenched as you contained your laughter, pretending not to notice your boyfriend’s adorably sulky face and instead pouring all your affection onto the cutie, kisses freely landing on her forehead.

From his direction, a heavy exhale filled in your ear yet you were too invested in the act to drop it. You soon heard some faint sounds of motion before a weight pressed down on the side of your shoulder, lovable curly hair chaotically snuggling on your shirt:

“Love me, too.”

“C’mon, it’s just Bora.” You burst out giggling and held the little girl closer in your arms just to tease him. 

“But you’ve been ignoring me, you know. Can you at least make it equal for both of us? I mean, she’s very cute but…” He pouted, intentionally or not flashing his puppy eyes at you as he mumbled: “Give me attention, too.”

Your speech was replaced with a pause. At this time, you had stopped questioning why merely a small moue could cause such an enormous impact on you that it was no longer practical to keep up with your game. You wasted no time wrapping your free arm around So Mun, drawing him into a side hug where all three of you now huddled into an enclosed position, sharing the same connection and same sentiment: “Damn… Now you’re the one being too cute.” 

“Am I?” So Mun grinned, gleefully reciprocating the hug before adding: “By the way, don’t “damn” in front of Bora.”

“She’s not gonna understand.”

[iloveinej]

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

════════ ⋆★⋆ ════════

Steve rogers x reader

Category: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Description of an injury and blood, mentions of nausea, fainting

Summary: (Name) has never had the currant to tell Steve about the injuries, afraid of bothering him. Not realizing that it can backfire.

Words: 2.6 k

════════ ⋆★⋆ ════════

(Name) loved Steve Rogers with her entire being, and she believed that every person she met felt the same. With his blue eyes, kind smile, and charisma. How he cared about every living, breathing thing around him.

But it didn't stop her from shutting down whenever he was irritated, mad, or even tense. Maybe it was because of past trauma, or that she simply didn't want to become the reason why he was mad. But every time he became like that, (Name) felt almost scared.

Not of him, of course, but scared that he don't want her near him. It has happened before with other people.

Which was why she was sitting in a corner of the quinjet, headphones over her ears as she tried to control the pain that bloomed like wildfire over her back.

It was an unsuccessful mission. And she knew Steve, like everybody else, hated unsuccessful missions. He was leaning against a wall, both arms crossed over his chest with a hard, stony look on his face. He didn't speak to anyone, stuck in his little world.

And she didn't want to be an inconvenience by whining about the flesh wound on her back. Especially if he hadn't noticed that she was in pain.

Either way, she planned on patching it up herself, and then going to bed, hoping that the storm would calm enough for the next day. And if she were feeling luxurious, she might even go to the med bay to get the wound checked on.

Except she hadn't planned on the fact that the wound was efficiently placed on her back, therefore making it out of reach for her to clean it. And she was way too exhausted to ask anyone else or to even care about the matter. So she grabbed the bandages and wrapped them around her chest and back, leaving it like that before turning off the lights in her bathroom and throwing herself headfirst in the bed.

Not knowing Steve lay on the other side of the wall, waiting for her to come and say goodnight.

--

The next morning, the ache in her back had gotten worse, and her left shoulder strained whenever she tried to move it. She needed to get to the med bay at least once today. But first, she required a big cup of coffee.

When she made it out to the sunlit kitchen, the pain in her back had spread. Now, her head ached just as much, and every time she turned too fast, black splotches would show.

And earlier, when she changed her bandages the blood had entirely seeped through, leaving it soaked in red. But the blood had been diluted with another liquid, which she found mildly concerning.

She poured herself the coffee that was left in the coffee machine and put it in the microwave since it was cold. And while she stood there waiting she noted that the kitchen was empty, which was strange to be at this time of the day.

"Jarvis? Do you mind telling me where everyone is?" She asked the AI.

"I believe that Mr. Wilson is still sleeping." She let out a humorous scoff." Mr. Stark and Mr. Banner are currently in the lab. Ms. Romanoff in the training areas with Mr. Rogers."

(Name)s ears perked at the mention of him, and her mind spiraled into calculating thoughts. "Did Steve already eat breakfast?"

"Yes. An omelet, made of three eggs and a cup of coffee, one teaspoon of sugar, and milk." A frown tugged at her face. Steve never ate breakfast without her. Unless they were fighting, which was a rare happening. Steve believed that the most important meal of the day was breakfast, and therefore always made sure that (Name) ate it with him. But so that he could have company, and also make sure that she ate enough.

"Alright then. Thank you, Jarvis." She smiled up to the roof, hoping that he could see her appreciativeness. Then she made a beeline back to her room with a downturn of her brow, planning to do paperwork before throwing herself into her, not so fantastic anymore, day. Completely forgetting her visit to the med bay.

--

Paperwork had always been a somewhat calming thing to do for her to relax, turn off her brain, and go on autopilot. Often when she was stressed, Steve found her with her nose in her computer typing away without any knowledge around her. It always worked.

Except for today.

The pain in her head only got worse after all the caffeine, and she couldn't lean back into her chair either because of her back. And not only that, but thoughts of Steve plagued her mind. And not the good, lovey-dovey thoughts. But instead, the toxic, poisoning thoughts were so loud that it was the only thing she heard.

She had no idea what to do about their situation. And she was really afraid that she had accidentally done something the day before to upset him, giving her a reason for his strange and unlike actions.

"Mr. Rogers would like me to alert you that there is a team meeting in the conference room in five minutes." She jumped in her chair and a small yelp left her lips as Jarvis spoke, making her back strain. And that made her wince painfully.

"I apologize. It was not my intention to frighten you." A grimace covered (Name)s face in an attempt to smile, and she carefully rubbed her shoulder.

"Don't worry about it. I was just stuck in my head."

"How so?" And (Name) went quiet. She hadn't expected a question from him.

"Nothing special." She absentmindedly hummed for an answer, and that seemed to get Jarvis less curious.

"If you say so. 3 minutes left." And with that, she quickly grabbed her things and bolted out of her quarters, right towards the elevator.

--

She turned out to arrive just in time as Fury was about to close the door, and she quickly slithered in, choosing a stool at the back of the table so that she wouldn't get questioning eyes on her. When she entered she could feel Steves's's stare burning into her skin, but she doesn't have the time nor thought to greet him, which would perhaps leave consequences for later. But now she just longed to sit down before she fainted.

She didn't even notice when Fury started speaking because blood was rushing through her ears, and beads of sweat ran down her neck, sending a shiver through her ice-cold and fire-hot body. It was like she running a fever in an ice bath. She dared to subtly raise a shaking hand towards her back, slightly touching the wound, only to have to suppress a wince and bring back blood-stained fingers.

She was at least wearing black.

Her attention shifted when Fury changed places with Steve, and let him take his place in the front. It was hard to know if she found it either positive or negative.

Positive because she could focus on something that brought her calm, and hear his voice instead of the roar in her ears. Focus on his plack t-shirt and nice fitting jeans, which was something he didn't wear often. How soft hir hair looked and his pink , kissable lips.

Negative because now he could see how colorless her face had become, along with a thin cover of sweat by her throat and her lifeless tired eyes.

And perhaps it made Steve speak a tad bit faster, and perhaps he skipped over some of the parts he was supposed to introduce. But it looked like his girlfriend was dying, and Fury didn't need to know that his two most capable agents were in a relationship.

He could her heartbeat picking up more and more as he spoke, and it was a relief for him when he could finally dismiss the team.

She slowly stood up as the rest of them collected their things and one by one filed out. But she couldn't do anything as quickly as she liked, not even walk. She had no choice but to take a tight grip on the chairs lined up, and use them as crutches.

And when Steve turned his back to gather a pile of papers, she took a breath, straightened her back, and took two quick steps towards the door. But Steve heard the increase of speed in her steps in quickly caught her arms in a fierce grip, stopping her from escaping.

"Damn it." She mumbled, making sure that Steve couldn't hear her. And then she turned her head to meet Steves's's eye, trying to look as normal as possible, which didn't trick Steve at all. Only made him more concerned.

"You alright?" He let both of his hands smooth over her shoulders and arms, looking at her with those blue, affectionate eyes.

"Mhm!" She hummed, trying to sound as carefree as possible while plastering a smile on her face. But he didn't look convinced. Not at all.

He let his left hand travel up to her cheek, and he was about to say something. But when his palm touched her cheek, he flinched and removed his palm to see that it was damp.

"Steve-" She warned, but it was no idea. He had already raised his sleeve and laid his wrist over her forehead. And she couldn't protest because his wrist was oh so warm while she had been freezing and sweating cold ever since she entered the room.

"You're burning." It didn't feel like she was.

"Are you sick?" He asked, a frown on his face as she felt for her temperature. "Why haven't you said anything?"He scolded, and she shrunk into herself as his hands continued to investigate her. Until his hand came in contact with her wound. And she recoiled away from his hand, trying to get as far away from the pain as possible. Tears gathered in her eyes at the fire in her back, and she glued them shut as she tried to let it pass.

Steve brought his hand up to see when he felt something on the tips of his fingers, and his eyes widened in horror. There was a vermillion stain on his fingers, running down his hand. And (Name) saw both concern and panic as he looked down at her, as she was now leaning against his chest, too tired to stand on her own.

"I'm fine, promise." She said, lime on autopilot.

"We need to get you to a doctor." He insisted, about to take her under the knees and carry her there. But the second he tried to m, she leaned away.

And the guilt was there again. Steves tired but pretty face showed concern and panic, but she wasn't supposed to make him concerned and panic. As his partner, she was there to make him calm, happy, and satisfied. Sure, if Steve would hide a wound like this one from her, she would be livid. But that's hardly classed as the same thing.

"It's fine Steve, I'm sure I can get there me."

He scoffed and looked almost hurt.

"No, you're not going anywhere yourself. Not by how you're looking"

A protest lay prepared on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't get further than opening her mouth before a strong wave of nausea and dizziness washed over her body. And she swayed, once, twice, before her footing came undone, and she lost all sense of balance.

And it felt like she fell into a warm pillow, or perhaps she was just delirious. But it truly resembled a warm, fluffy pillow. And she snuggled into it, ignoring the distant calls of her (Name). And Steve's breath got caught in his throat when he saw her closing her eyes in his arms.

--

Steve was aware that something was nagging his lover's mind, and he had been aware of it during the last week. It was like she walked on eggshells around him and it bothered him. Because something bothered her. Something about him bothered her.

He hadn't done anything differently, not that he was aware of. He hadn't said anything either. And he liked to think that he had a great memory.

And he still couldn't figure out why she didn't tell him about her injury. Banner had told him that she was lucky that the infections in her wound hadn't reached any further. But Steve had a hard time seeing anything positive with the situation at all.

Duobts clouded his mind and made it hard to think straight. How could he know that she hadn't hidden other injuries that she could've gotten?

As if her mind was connected to his, as if she heard his self-deprecating thoughts, she came to her senses and let out a long and low groan, snapping Steve out of his head.

He quickly discarded his block and pencil to the side, leaving the drawing on the small table by the side before crouching down to her height.

"(Name)?" He dared to ask, and his heart felt lighter when he saw her eyelids twitch in response. A sigh left her dry lips before her eyelids slowly cracked open and presented themselves to Steve, giving him a confirmation that she was there with him.

"Steve." It came as a breath, her voice warm with love as she saw the familiar face.

As light as a feather, he let his fingertips ghost along her temples, repeating the momentum over and over again. Her eyelids relaxed, and Steve's back tensed as she once again closed her eyes. But (Name) could feel his muscle become rigid, and let her hand gently enclose steves wrist, running circles on his inner arm as comfort. As she always did.

"Why didn't you tell me?" An audible sigh sounded from her mouth, and for a moment Steve was afraid that he had annoyed her. But her fingertips were still dancing along the expense of his arm, and he let that comfort him. Although, she didn't provide him with an answer.

"You can trust me. I want you to trust me." He reassured her, and vulnerability spilled through his voice. He grabbed her other hand that rested on her stomach, entangling their fingers.

"I do trust you." She hoarsely whispered, throat dry and mouth like sandpaper.

But when she forced her eyes open, Steve looked at her, unconvinced.

"Then why? Why didn't you tell me that you were in pain?"

She wanted to bathe in the softness of his voice. Get nurtured by it, drink it, and stay by the sound to the end of time. The fondness, bonded with her worrying, guilty, and anxious emotions from before created bittersweet sparks under her skin. And it took form as a watery mist, covering her live full irises.

"I do trust you, but I don't want to be a nuisance to you." She painfully admitted and laid her hand on his cheek as a peace offering." You work so hard to succeed Steve, so hard that when you don't succeed, you become very tense. I don't want to be there to make you even tenser."

He shut his eyes tightly and nuzzled his cheek further into her palm, and a drop of water fell from his eye, rolling down his summer-tinted cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" Worry etched in her brows, but he only shook his head.

"I made you think that you would be a burden to me whenever I felt a negative emotion." She shook her head, already beginning her protest." A partner is not supposed to do that (Name)."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry."

"Steve, it was not on you. You didn't make me feel like a burden. I did. And I'm sorry for not telling you about my injury." She smiled sadly at him when he kissed her palm.

"I want to take care of you, and comfort you. I want to be that person to you, so let me be that the next time." And she could only nodd, her heart being free from the shackles of heavy emotions. Instead, she felt light as a feather.

════════ ⋆★⋆ ════════

My requests are open;););;);)

[discotenny]

Lost you once

Chapter 1 ~ All there is, is you and me Where things go wrong following the escape from Sae's palace.

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

Under the colorful fluorescents of Sae’s casino, all Ren can look at is you. 

In all your beauty, in all your grace, you dance above the lights with a smile that makes his heart flutter. Your presence shimmers like your blade as you fight your way through shadows. It shines like the chandeliers you swing from. As you intentionally put on a show, Ren almost feels jealous at how many eyes widen at your appearance. 

“Joker, stop staring at them! You need to keep up your own pace or you’re not getting out of there!” 

Futaba’s voice comes through his communicator, a warning lacing her teasing words as she alludes to the true plan he needed to carry out. Before the others could question her statement, Ryuji’s obnoxiously loud laughter pierces his ears. He can slightly hear Ann tell him to shut up but by then, Ren has already turned his eyes to look at you once more. 

Ren sees you giggle and send him a wink, blowing a kiss that he catches with his hand. As the large group of shadows you fight look over towards his hiding place, you take advantage of their distraction. 

“PERSONA!” 

Pandora’s Box- a myth said to hail from Ancient Greece. Pandora, the first woman ever alive, was blessed by the gods with gifts to guide her path. Among beautiful clothing, shining pearls, and wonderful musical sound, it was a singular box that took the attention of the girl. A gift she was warned not to open. And coupled with her innocently curious nature, it was a recipe for disaster.

The shadows dressed in suits laughed at you. After all, could you even fight with such an inconvenient persona? To them, it seemed you were better off fighting with your blade than some cumbersome box. 

Ren could see it in your eyes. The anger and the fury of being underestimated yet again. Through all their battles, you were the one that was always targeted, being thought of as the weakest link of their party. But time and time again- you would prove your worth and show it was a mistake to underestimate just how much damage you could do.  

When you first unlocked your persona, the thieves stood confused. No creature, no monster, no mythological being of any kind stood behind you and your new outfit. Instead, an ornate box appeared hovering in your hands. Nobody else could ever open the box except for you, and you wouldn’t tell anyone exactly what was in it either.

You glide your hand over the top, shifting the lid of the box to the side. It leaks out a black mass of smoke that enters your assailants lungs. Wretched coughs lined with the aftermath of your assault filled the air. 

You wielded the element of poison. With the smoke emanating from Pandora’s Box, you were able to inflict continuous damage on your opponents without even directly attacking.

For weaker enemies, the smoke was all you needed to put them out of commission long enough for you to get past. 

The group of shadows in front of you fall to their knees, gasping breaths as they heave on the floor. You walk past them, not bothering yourself to finish them off. You had a mission to complete, afterall. 

You hop onto the next chandelier, pausing as you survey the area to decide whether to jump down to the ground below or maneuver up to the elevated area above. 

“There are too many shadows below you to land down, Silhouette. There should be a platform with an exit door somewhere above you,” Futaba says. 

“Got it!” You say as you climb up the balcony. When your two feet touch solid floor, you turn around to see if Ren made it behind you. He makes eye contact with you and for a brief second your eyes soften and he forgets where he is- focusing on the beauty that is all of you . 

“Behind you, watch out!” Futaba’s voice interrupts his brief daze. Ren quickly climbs up, hiding himself as you turn to face the newly appeared opponent. “This one’s not like the others- make sure to be careful!” 

Your eyes narrow, sizing up the shadow in front of you. 

For stronger enemies, your poison wasn’t the only thing you’d need to use.

Manifesting your persona, you again flooded the arena with your black smoke. The poison begins to take effect, but as expected, the Moloch wouldn’t fall down with just that. It takes the opportunity to blast you with agidyne- which you just narrowly avoid. 

After dodging, you close the distance between you and the shadow. With the help of your intruding poison, you brandish your blade. It only takes three quick strikes to take it down. It cries as it vanishes into a black puddle, emanating a similar smoke as your own persona does. 

“Good job, Silhouette!” Akechi cuts through the communications and with a voice so cheery, no one on the line dares to comment further. Ren almost rolls his eyes at the facade he knows the detective is putting on. 

“Let’s keep moving- through those doors should be a maintenance area,” Futaba says. “Everyone else use escape route B!” 

Several chatters of agreement and acknowledgement follow her words. You turn to Ren and he nods in encouragement, already prepared to follow you through the doors and to the ends of the Earth itself. 

You head inside, going through quicker than you normally would have if you feared being caught. However, you had to. You needed to run ahead of Ren to make sure your opposition was reacting in the intended way for your plan to succeed. Keeping Akechi’s spirit in believing you were on your own escape route was part of it. Setting the stage for Ren to make his grand reveal was what was supposed to happen. 

Supposed to. 

Ren doesn’t know how it went so wrong. 

He was the one that leapt out the stained glass window, grabbing the attention of everyone in the premises. You were the one that took the quiet route at the last moment- through a set of unsuspecting gray doors. 

Ren can’t help but freeze as he stares at the scene in front of him. He can vaguely hear your voice fighting against your captors. He can barely see the outline of you trying to free yourself. He can just about feel your eyes begging at him for help. 

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. 

A helicopter shines a blinding spotlight on his face and he flinches. He can’t move- he can’t think- and every possible voice in his ear but one is screaming at him to run. 

He doesn’t want to leave you there, and all he wants to do is run over and free you from your binding so you can run off yourself- but he can’t. Not when there are other people’s lives at stake, not when it’s not over just yet. The burden of being a leader means he can’t always do what he needs. 

And so he turns away. Away from your voice. Away from the outline of you. Away from your pleading eyes. 

Ren feels sick as he runs off, taking your intended escape route as a few policemen attempt to chase him. He out runs them all, of course. When he meets up with the rest of the thieves, your missing presence is deafening. 

Despite being free, Ren can’t help but feel like he’s lost. 

He was the one that was supposed to get captured, treated like a dog by the cops once more. You were the one bound to the ground- kicked around like you were nothing more than worthless trash. 

Ren tries to keep up the confident facade as he speaks with your panicked friends- reassuring them that everything was going to be alright. They all separate for the night following the short debrief at Le Blanc. The rest of them leave with a hesitant hope that despite the hiccup, their intended plan would turn out and you would return to them safe. 

Ren wasn’t so sure of it himself. Morgana paws at him as he sits in bed- the wide eyed distant stare Ren wears makes the cat question if he was even alive. His hands cover his nose and mouth as he replays the image of you being rough handled in his mind. He doesn’t want to imagine the horrors of what they may be putting you through in custody- but his memories of his own treatment leak into his thoughts and all he wants to do is cry. 

He desperately, desperately wants you in his arms, but all he can do is sit in his bed and sob like you’re already gone.

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

Decided to split this fic up into parts because I hate doing constant scene changes in my fics lowk lowk. Also to get this out of draft hell LMAO >:3 I have parts 2 and 3 already written, with part 4 already drafted and partially complete. Be warned this has the unrequited love tag on ao3 for a reason...

[izzabela]

Howdy 🤠 I hope you’re having a good day! Love your work. Could you do a fic where Johnny finds the fem reader crying because she got broken up with by her first girlfriend? He comforts her and gives her some relationship advice. Maybe throw in a line like “I just thought I was capable of being loved.” Some good angst/comfort please and thank you.

The Other Woman - Johnny x fem!reader

in which you get dumped during a epic party

a/n: omG thank you for reading my shit!

ship[s]: johnny x bi!fem!reader

warning(s): bits of angst, fluff, comfort, post-story, friends to lovers(ish)

You were supposed to be taking a break from training and sparring under Liu Kang.

You were supposed to be having fun with your friends at Johnny's mansion to celebrate his latest movie hit.

You were supposed to be confident in your girlfriend and yourself, that your bond wouldn't break like some do in those cheesy Hallmark films.

Instead, you were upstairs, tucked away in an extra room in Johnny's house, sniffling into a pillow you hugged close to your chest.

Your pretty, black satin dress was wrinkled as you were balled up in the corner of the room. You could feel the music's bass bump through the ceiling and vibrate through the floor of the bedroom.

No one was upstairs, since Johnny had put up a gate and a "DO NOT ENTER" sign over the ceiling edge for his guests. You, though, were the exception.

You were good friend with Mr. Carlton. Formerly a set-partner in his old movie, Flesh Pits, you two kept in touch after wrapping the movie.

At the time, you were dating a cute little barista girl at the local cafè in the studios of Hollywood, so Johnny knew to back off the flirty advances with you.

You were by his side when he fought Kenshi, trained alongside him, Thunder Lad, and Razor Rang, helped him out of Shang Tsung's lab, and every other event that happened during the timeline fiasco.

With everything that happened, it brought you two closer as friends, and you integrated well with the other men. You also met many other allies, women like Ashrah, Princess Kitana, Mileena and Tanya, and more women that aided you in you quest to stop the Titan.

You should have realized that being gone for an unforseen amount of time, leaving no texts, leaving no note, being with both handsome and ravishing women, would definitely send your girlfriend over the edge. When you came back, you though everything was going good.

That text on your phone proved you wrong tenfold.

To put it simply, she broke up with you claiming you lost your priorities. Claiming you didn't put her first, claiming you were unreachable, claiming, claiming, and claiming.

Worst of all, she claimed you were too much for her. You had too many responsibilities, which took you away from her.

"Tch," you scoff as you read the messages. Unfortunately, she wasn't entirely wrong.

After the events of Titan Shang Tsung, Johnny recruited you as his assistant director for the new series he was making (he actually shoved unedited garble on paper into your hands, saying you had to look over it).

Unironically, he named it "Mortal Kombat", and this was a task given to him by Liu Kang in order to introduce the world to... well, the world.

You were also sent on joint missions with the OIA. As one of Liu Kang's champions, the weight to protect the entirety of Earthrealm was huge and heavy.

You were sent on missions for weeks on end, and if you were unlucky enough, months. It was an inconvenience to many people, the most to your girlfriend.

New tears reclaimed your old ones, traversing down the dried stains on your cheeks as the reality of your situation begins to settle.

You're officially single- and if I dare say, it isn't your fault.

As you keep crying into your pillow, you don't notice the door behind you open, muffled steps on the plush carpet as you feel a slight weight on the floor.

Your head is up from the pillow, and your bleary eyes see a figure with pink over his eyes and a pink scarf around his neck. A warm arm hooks you into his chest and you take a whiff of the cologne.

Ah, it's Johnny.

You take a deep inhale, breathing in the pricey cologne, before another wave of tears leave your eyes. Johnny's in a slight fit on what to do, but he lets you claw at his back as you hug him and wail.

"Good thing I sound-proofed my rooms," Johnny griped a bit, which earns him a shove on his shoulder.

"Ow! H-hey! What's the big dealy-o?" You get up and out of his embrace, finding your phone across the room and opening it to your messages. You then toss the phone to him, and he begins to read where the break-up text begins.

"I..." he's breathless at the sight. His eyes dart up and down as he scrolls, trying to find any pretense for what could have caused this.

Unfortunately, no answers come from the texts as he hands your phone back. He takes the star-shaped shades off his face, placing them up on his head as he tosses the feather boa to the ground.

"Wanna sit and chat about it?" he inquired, sitting on the bed and patting a space next to him. You waddle to him, pillow clutched in your arms as you plop down next to him.

"I mean, I should have seen this coming," you sniffled, wiping snot off your nose. Crying into that pillow grossly accumulated the secretions from your nostrils, and it caked up at your nose.

"Good God, woman." He takes his button-up off and hands it to you as a makeshift tissue. "At least wipe."

You offer a small "sorry" before obliterating your eardrums with the roughest blow of your nose. Thankfully, Johnny's got a white tank underneath, meaning his incredible figure is out.

You can't focus on that, though, since your life just got the latest installment update. After blowing your nose, you continue to rant.

"I knew I was busy. Hell, she knew I got busy," you wipe your eyes gently with a clean spot of his shirt.

As mentioned before, you had the full plate of protecting the whole realm. However, as a normal human being, your girlfriend had her own problems, issues, and tasks to take on.

Just as you needed her, she needed you, but you weren't there.

"I know I can be a lot. Fuck, I did my best to keep it all down for her. And yet, I can't control it."

When you're overwhelmed, you find it a bit harder to open up to those around you- even your loved ones. You promised your (now ex) girlfriend you'd work on it, get better, but your chance was gone in the blink of an eye.

Johnny, for once, is quiet, with the only noise being the music bumping from the floor below you two. He's got a sympathetic frown on his face- it's clear he's been here before.

"I just.... I just though that I'd get it right for once," you murmur quietly.

You had shit luck with love. It wasn't that they were complete assholes, some of your exes were wonderful people. It's just that, you were a bit harder to get to.

As mentioned before, you wee hard to each when overwhelmed. However, in general, you were hard to reach period. You kept to yourself, despite the people you called friends. You were incredibly independent, to the point that you never opened up about how you truly felt.

In short, a really stubborn doormat- people walking over you (with a couple of pricks on the bottom of their feet).

"I thought that maybe, she'd get me. With how things were going, I really thought I was capable of..." your breath hitches as you mutter out the rest of your sentence.

"I thought that with all that I am, all that I have, I was capable of being loved."

Another wave of emotion comes over you, and the rest of your resolve breaks as your eyes overflow with fresh tears. The saltiness is in your mouth, and you can't help but choke on taste of it.

The bed is suddenly lighter, and Johnny is on his knees in front of you, both hands on yours as he declares a fact you didn't know about yourself.

"If you were hard to love," he begins, "You wouldn't have me, Ken-doll, Raiden, or Razor-rang by your side."

His hazel eyes stare into your colored ones, trying to touch your soul with his words. However, you look away as little baby tears fell from your eyes again.

He forces you to look at him, a firm (yet gentle) grip on the back of your head as he pressed your forehead on his.

"If you were hard to love, you wouldn't even have those shit-ass exes of yours!"

You let out a gargled chuckle, slightly choking on the snot and spit that was fresh in your mouth and nose. As fucked as it sounded, he was right.

You were capable of being loved, you had many friends to prove it. By the elder gods, you were friends with others not from Earth. You remember your letters with Kitana and Mileena, the spars with Tanya and Li Mei, not to mention the late night walks at the Academy with Ashrah.

You remind yourself of the meals you shared with Kung Lao, whether you won or lost bets was unimportant. You recall the chores you did with Raiden during the slow day back at the Academy, you even reminisce on the days Kenshi scolded you for training too hard.

Of course, you can't forget your best friend, Johnny. You think back to the days Johnny treated you to lunch after your scene-wraps during Flesh Pits. Memories of some birthdays spent with Johnny, even little pick-me-up dates where he'd cheer you up with karaoke or bar-hopping.

You were able to be loved, those people were just cowards. They didn't give all of them for you the way you gave your whole self to them.

Finally calming down, you realize how close you were to Johnny. You could see the shine in his eyes, despite the evident darkness in the room. You could feel his warm, ragged breath on your face as the faintest scent of alcohol whiffed into your nose.

You also note the delicate features of his face: the slight rough skin texture, healed scars from the battles he had endured, even a couple of freckles around his nose.

Was he always this handsome?

You smile and pull away from him, standing up and stretching your body of any kinks or aches it felt while curled up as you were. Concealed in the darkness was Johnny's pink cheeks from how close you two were.

"Thanks, Carlton," you tease him, dropping a bit of his government name. He scoffs, but he gets up as well, making eye contact with you as he searches your face for a sign of any more discomfort.

"Johnny," you groan, "I'm alright now, really."

Johnny takes your hand in his, fingers intertwining as he brings the back of your hand to his mouth. He kisses it, his warm lips making you turn a bit pink in the dark.

"Just remember, you've got so much more than what that bitch had to offer," Johnny says with a confident straight-forwardness.

You look at the door and back at Johnny, and he begins to lead you to it. However, you tug his hand right before he opens it, which makes him pause and stare at you again.

"What? Nervous?" he taunts. You laugh, shaking your head as you let go of his hand to straighten your dress and wipe away any hints of sadness.

You booty-bump Johnny out of the door's way, flicking your hair in his face as you turn to him with your signature, radiant smile.

"Not sure you can handle this much boom, Cage." You wink at him, flinging the door open as you allow the deafening music to envelope you again.

He smirks.

"You're on, pretty girl."

==================

thank you so much for the request! this was actually a lot of fun to write, despite me restarting this fic two times in my drafts

if you guys haven't noticed, i've been calling Kung Lao "razor-rang" because of a little HC of mine due to Johnny's love of nicknames

hope yall enjoyed, and i'll see yall in the next fic!

[sun-stricken]

Do you think Gray, Natsu , Erza and Wendy have accents like all came from different places and I headcanon Florian wasn’t any of their first languages so whenever they get emotional their accents come out and Lucy’s just like “ guys please I can’t understand what your sayin” but they can understand each other just fine.

Like that get ambushed on a mission and they all start swearing except only Lucy’s swearing in Fiorian and they get so angry after the missions complete and thier all complaining about it Lucy’s just completely lost because their accents are popping so hard.

i do think so actually

i mostly just played around with what their accents would sound like rather than what you asked, so sorry🙏

Almost no one outside of who she grew up extremely close with can understand Erza when her accent pops out. Erzas accent is a mash up of a bunch of different ones, being raised in the tower with a bunch of people from various linguistic backgrounds does that, you could not pin point where shes from originally from speaking alone. When her accent pops her words can go anywhere from a clear-cut and concise, to a rolling drawl, to fast and choppy, it will give you whiplash

Natsu and Wendys accents are harsh and makes their words slur together heavily, sounds like theyre short-cutting their words as much as possible. Its meant for fast speaking.

Wendys accent is a different dialect of the average Fiorian one, the rhythm/structure of it flows similarly, but the pronunciation of letters are fairly different. When her accent comes out, her words probably the easiest to make out since (after Grandeeney) she was technically raised in Fioré, although that isnt saying much when compared to the other three.

Natsu, now Natsus accent is practically unintelligible at best, by the time you process what one word was, hes already moved on to another sentence, he could not slow down if he tried. Even if hes speaking a language youre fluent in, if his accent breaks through it sounds like a different language altogether.

Grays accent is sharp and sounds a little awkward, it can make him trip up on his words since Florian languages are faster and the sounds are shorter and an Isvani accent will put stress in unneeded places and is more drawn out. His accent is very, indecisive? the way he says words will change depending on where in the sentence they are or how he uses them. very inconvenient for anyone trying to understand him.

All of this very inconvenient for Lucy. Her first language is Florian, she knows a couple different languages fluently but holy shit, she should’ve brought her flash cards with her when she ran away. Although none of them wouldve prepared her for this

Wendys accent is heavy when shes upset for any reason, while Lucy is okay at understanding her (even if the pace makes her dizzy sometimes) she absolutely cant whenever she cries. Or when shes yelling, or if shes doing anything actually, Lucy has to pay very close attention to understand

Natsus pops at any given time, no real reason, but its like he purposely uses it when hes cursing someone out, he thrives on their utter confusion. If Lucy thought Wendys pace was dizzying, Natsus makes her feel like shes in a tornado.

*Natsu and Lucy arguing and his accent comes out*

Lucy, nearing a breakdown: IDK WHAT THE HELL YOURE SAYING

Natsu, knowing exactly what hes doing: FUCK YOU

Lucy: FOR THE LOVE OF—PLEASE

they have fun🤗

Both Grays and Erzas come out mostly when they’re tired, during intense moments/emotions, or when they talk for a long time.

Lucy has given up on trying to understanding Erza, just sitting there in horrified facination as she successfully captured a part of every countries accent while also trying to use context clues because for some reason the others can understand her perfectly fine (so unfair)

Gray also sometimes uses his accent to confuse people, although he usually dabbles in the actual language than the just the accent cause its funnier that way. Lucy at this point has given up any sense of peace she’ll get to have ever, itll never happen around any of these fools

So far, Lucy thinks Wendys is the easiest to understand (which means its her favorite), Grays is the nicest to listen to (even if the sharpness of it makes it feel like hes about to yell), Erzas is the most confusing (literally what the fuck is it??), and Natsus pisses her off (she knows that mf uses it on purpose to make her confused)

Once they all started talking with their natural accent and Lucy thought she had a brain injury before staring blankly and wonder what her life has come to

[angeliquexoxo]

"What are they like?" - General Resident Headcanons

PART 2

More hcs of how the residents would act around the mansion!💕

All characters are written according to my au, I don't own any of the characters written here and they all belong to their rightful owners (⁠＾⁠∇⁠＾⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♪

This post may contain mature content such as swearing, talks about trauma, and other stuff you may not too read!

BEN_Drowned

I imagine him having the body of a 15 year old, and the mind of a 21 college drop out who's actually really good in technology and social media. Basically someone who's a genius but decided to drop out because it's just not working out for him.

BEN is really annoying to deal with in the mansion. Not because of his ability to manipulate technology (can manifest in tvs and such), but him as a being. Like you would see on the internet, the boy is a troll. He enjoys witnessing the angry reactions he would get from others- which is why he likes to use Jeff as his go to target.

Since he's a spirit, he could phase through walls and such but since he's a techno-poltergeist, he prefers using electronics and gadgets.

BEN would spend his free time in his room or at the recreation room, either playing video games or watching some kind of anime. But if he's working, he would be stationed at the security office- BEN is the only one in the mansion who can keep track of what's happening in most of the cameras placed all around the mansion.

One of the messiest residents in the mansion. The security office is filled with tangled wires and a bunch of junk food wrappers (chips, sodas, candy, etc) His room is also very unkept. For some reason, he has a bunch of used tissues all along his desk which I won't be elaborating any further.

BEN is really easy-going, really playful too- but again, he's a smart spirit. He doesn't trust too many people in the mansion except for jeff because he knows what kind of fucked up shit they all did. He likes to perceive himself as a friendly guy but also shows to others that you shouldn't fuck with him.

Since he's at cyber security, a lot of people look at him when they need something ordered off online (whether it's on Amazon or on the Dark web) of course he'll do it, but in return you'll have to do something for him in return. It can be as harmless as pulling pranks but sometimes his favors are fucked up like killing of a victim he trolled because he told them to pull up to an address he gave them.

BEN is quite expressive, he's the one who reacts to things the most besides Nina I envision him to show off lot of emotions too. He doesn't know how to hide them well, you can easily tell just by looking at him (I think it's also because BEN is always seen so carefree and positive so it's a no brainer if you notice the shift in his emotions easily)

He acts like a moody teenager. Like I said, BEN is pretty laid back, uses vulgar and extensive vocabulary (would use slang words the most) when something upsets him, he will make it known. Honestly, he'll start to act like a petty and salty bitch when there's a minor inconvenience.

Eyeless Jack

Ej is the mansion's official doctor. He got the position and the proper title after the number of times he would give his housemates medical help after or even between missions. He's also the one apart of cleaning up after fights between residents.

He's knowledgeable to almost all things about medicine, especially info on anatomy and things relating to surgery. I could say he's one of the smarter residents when it comes to academics (he liked science, particularly the biology)

He keeps mostly to himself. He doesn't involve himself in any drama happening in the mansion, not because he's not into socializing with the other members of the mansion but rather because he's worried about harming those around him. Because Ej is a half-demon from a failed cult sacrifice, he now has to live with his craving of human organs and it's said for him to deal with because all he wanted to do is help those in need.

With his cannibalistic tendencies, he prefers having meal time ny himself. The only time he'll eat is when he's out hunting or alone and somewhere private in the mansion- like his room or a closed area in the infirmary.

He doesn't get stressed easily. He knows how to act when there's a crisis. He's used to working under pressure, with him being the most medical knowledge in the mansion and stuff. The only time he'll start acting out is when he's hungry. He can control his anger well when things start to piss him off, but if he's starving- that's a whole 'nother level of danger.

Ej likes to be clean and tidy. The practice of keeping things sterile grew on him and because of that he prefers keeping things neat and organised. However, with him needing to consume human insides- it's difficult for him to keep his stuff clean. You'll need to find a victim, get the good stuff, dispose of the body, etc. yeah it's not a fun process for him.

A really respectful resident. He doesn't use vulgar language except the occasional swear words he thinks there's no need to swear so there's that He gives respect to anyone as long as they're respectful to him in return.

Ej is on good terms with residents in the mansion, not because he's the one healing but because he's not as fucked as they are. Has good bonds with Jane and Hoodie, thinks Nina is a sweet for helping him out in the infirmary while the other residents are just okay for him.

Would spend his free time reading books don't ask me how it just fits him if not then he'll organize the infirmary.

Jeff the Killer

Surprising enough, not as foul mouth as you think he'd be Clockwork took number 1 Jeff still swears and such, but he's not bold enough to say what's on his mind- it really depends if he drank enough beer or not.

Also really gross, his room reeks of alcohol and rot. He has a bunch of dirty laundry and empty beer cans that he has yet to throw away. Jeff doesn't have the best hygiene either. He has a hard time brushing his teeth due to the cut on his cheeks. He would also wear the same white hoodie- never washes it unless he feels like a decent human being and decided to do his laundry.

Honestly, he's a bit of a pussy. It really depends on who he's dealing with. If he's with Cody or some resident who is really introverted, then he'll start acting like he's a tough guy a bully basically. But if Jeff is with people like Jane or even with Liu- he'll start shutting his mouth more. Though that doesn't mean he'll start throw some nasty comment at them.

He's pretty awkward around certain residents cough cough Nina cough cough only because he's not good in emotions, especially if it's something really touchy. He hates the proxies, mainly because he doesn't like being bossed around still follows their orders though. He's on good terms with BEN- sure you'll hear Jeff cursing BEN off but rest assured, all of them are said with love. Thinks Jane and Clockwork are bitches, but really Jeff is just a pussy when they're near him.

His relationship with Liu is interesting. They weren't really close when they were kids- Liu was more favored by their parents while Jeff was the problem child growing up. When they reunited, Jeff avoided Liu a lot, him seeing the stitches he had on his face struck a chord on his heart. He almost felt sorry for him that his until he cut his smile up again.

You might think he's an idiot, I mean, he is, but he has a brain, and he uses it for the most part. Since he's a senior resident, he knows the ropes of going on missions and the kind of stuff happening in the mansion. He may not be the smartest, but he's a pretty good fighter. Has an okay amount of strength and can fun pretty fast. He's trying to learn how to use firearms, a shotgun preferably, so there's that.

Has the strongest gut out of all of the residents. He can watch the most vile thing to ever exist and still have his lunch in his stomach. Jeff also doesn't hold a lot of sympathy, just because he's running this killer game since he was 13. He's often stationed for torturing victims when they need info because of this.

X-virus

He is also an intelligent resident. Very gifted to all things related to science, specially biochemistry and microbiology- since he's centered around diseases and different types of viruses. Cody has some good knowledge in medicine too. Because of this, he's known to be the 2nd unofficial doctor of the mansion.

Unfortunately, Cody gets very distracted easily. Has a hard time staying still, which is why he often fidgets with his goggles. Would end up getting carried away with whatever he's talking about, especially when it's about things he's really interested in.

A lot of people in the mansion found him annoying. Many residents see Cody as a very clumsy kid who's constantly trapped in his own little world.

Cody is in fact the newest resident in the mansion. He came in after Nina after about 5 years? Some members of the mansion still see him as fresh meat though.

Could be one of the most sadistic residents in the mansion. He's known to use whatever deadly sickness he made on his victims. He enjoys seeing how his test subjects victims react to his viruses. Sometimes, he will even snap photos of said victims and name the photo after the virus he used on them. Has at least 1 binder container said photos.

He doesn't have the best living(?) schedule. The boy just wakes up from his desk, conduct experiments on his viruses, studies the results and passes out. He would often forget to eat too, because of this he has a skinny build.

He gets really excited when he's involved in certain missions especially the ones where they go in groups mainly because he wants to show off his creations.

He's only close with members like Toby and Nina, the only reason why is because they are the only ones who can tolerate him and his interest in viruses. Jane, Helen, and Liu have neutral feelings towards him while Clockwork, Jeff, and Ben simply find him irritating.

Kagekao

Kage is an asshole. Because he's the only supernatural being who's not a big wuss, he simply thinks he's better than everyone. He likes to make the other residents stupid a lot. He doesn't think he's better than everyone though, he's very much aware of the flaws he has but in certain if not most situations- Kage has the upper hand.

Knows some secrets about the other residents. He's a very sneaky demon- he knows how to hide himself very well. Because of this, there are times where he would come across residents doing something they shouldn't or overheard private conversations.

Surprisingly a very easy guy to talk too. He doesn't go against most of the rules in the mansion and listens to the proxies. However, every time someone asks him to do something- whether it's a small favor or not, he wants something in return.

Very chill but because of his attitude a lot of people don't like hanging out with him. If you do hang out with him though, most of the time you guys are just gonna end up drunk.

Not a light weight, he's able to consume a lot of red wine in one sitting. He doesn't enjoy other drinks, wine is the only drink he'll only enjoy. If there's no wine then he'll simply leave.

He likes hanging out with Sully a lot. For him, Sully can match his energy very well. Kage enjoys hanging with Liu too. He doesn't interact with his other housemates but he enjoys making Jeff feel like an idiot.

He has the ability to shape shift and climb on walls and ceilings. He enjoys staying in high places like roof tops or beams of high ceilings. He doesn't shape shift too much mainly because he hates the feelings of turning himself into something that's not his usual body.

He prefers killing his victims off quickly than taking his time. He will slow his pace when his victim is attractive. Many times he would hold conversations with many women, sometimes having wine with them before offing them.

I'd think Kage would have good charisma levels. He knows how to make women blush and stutter which is why he chooses them as his go to victims. Despite making girls fall into their knees with simple words, he doesn't have the interest in dating anyone and no there hasn't been a time where he hooked up with any of the girls he had killed

Took some time to finish this post. Many things are happening in school, I have exams next week and we also have a school event where we need to make a costume for our representative :'>>>

But we'll have an academic break after this week so I'll probs post more?

Thank you all for the hearts and reposts on my last post 😭 hopefully y'all enjoyed this one too! 💕😘✨

[baremueran]

I hear you love Ghost and Roach together. Tell me some of your favourite headcanons about them? How do they show their love to one another? 🤍

I am not sure if they are all SFW, so please read cautiously! English is not my native language, please let me know if there is any mistake!

❤HEADCANON!!❤

1. Roach sometimes expose his nose between the mask and goggles, so anyone can boop boop the tip of his nose and get a puzzled look. Just like a puppy👉👈

2. Ghost often wears his balaclava and sunglasses and headphones and ignore anyone. He would say he was too focused on eavesdropping or listening to music, but there is usually nothing in the headphones except the sound of electricity. He just doesn't care. And the noise cancelling function of the headphones is very good.😎

3. I quite like mute!Roach, but the operators must have the ability to communicate in the mission, so selective mute is good enough.🤐

4. But Roach lost his speech because his tongue has been cut out is fine, too. It's also good that he's slurring his speech because of the pain and the inconvenience. But it means he has to leave the field. So NOOOO, it's just something in my head. SRY if this makes you uncomfortable.🤐

5. Ghost probably has the winter blues. Whether it has anything to do with his family and Christmas or not. He could be grumpy and often hide when it's getting cold.😢

6. But I don't think Ghost likes very hot weather either. Hmmm so whatever, he's just grumpy sometimes.😠

7. I don't know if anyone has thought about robot! TF141. I think Ghost could retain inorganic blue electronic eyes and keep the sunglasses he uses to analyze the data. Maybe there is just an LCD/LED screen under Roach's goggles. Soap can survive a fall because of the steel spine and wire guts. But think about it, when Shepherd (who doesn't realize they aren't humantries) shoot them both, they just struggle with Three Laws of Robotics in confusion and look Shepherd in the eye without emotion.👁👁❓The only downside is that they may be less fire and heat resistant.

8. I spent a few months in a hospital burn unit, and I think most writers understate the burns. But it's okay! It may be painful for me to see once again the process of a person recovering from a piece of coke that reeks of decay, although it's a possible miracle.💔

❤THE WAY THEY SHOW LOVE TO EACH OTHER?❤

First of all, I've never been in a romantic relationship. So I can only IMAGINE. But I wasn't in the military either, so I guess it doesn't matter.

It probably makes sense that the military doesn't allow relationships, so I don't think they're going to be too overt during service.

But they can sit down to eat together and throw the things they don't like onto each other's plates. They can also sit together in the plane or car on a mission and quietly hold hands without drawing attention. They are not that bad drinkers, but would pretend to be drunk in pubs just to lean on each other in public. When one of them is sent out on their own, they hug like the rest of the team, pretending it's their noses that's brushing their cheeks instead of their lips. One of them would bring his favorite snacks and kisses while the other was in the hospital/Medic bay. They might hold hands and kiss when change shifts or count the stars together during the night stakeout. And, yes, they can make out anywhere they like, so much so that almost everyone knows about it but there's no proof. Or nobody knows. It doesn't matter.😚😚💕

I rarely read fics about post-military life because many of them are a bit too good to be true. (But i do read them haha) War is war. As long as you have been involved in it, no matter where you go, you cannot escape the shadow of war. And the impact of PTSD on life is often underestimated too. It saddens me to describe these, so I'm not going to continue. They have to work very, very hard to have a happy ending. But that's okay, we can just enjoy some parts and details of their life in the fics. I've just been waiting for one to tell that part of the story!👋

[moonlight-prose]

finding excuses to be alone with each other with miguel??

ME VUELVES LOCA

a/n: my first ever miggy fic!!! babes i am so fucking excited to be writing for this man. our dms are literally just filled with thoughts about him and that gave me so much inspo to write this. i've tried to get his voice down, but honestly i don't think i nailed it quite yet. still i hope you enjoy! (the title is named after such a beautiful song by lupita infante. i definitely recommend her music.)

note: thank you to @sunflowersteves for beta reading and easing my mind that this sounds like miggy. you're lovely darling.🖤

summary: "for weeks you’d been playing this cat and mouse game. trying to put off the attraction you felt in the hopes that this would dissolve into friendship once more."

word count: 0.9k+

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

warnings: not explicit, tad bit of angst (because it's me), fluff, the beginnings of love, soft miggy.

If there’s one thing you can say for certain it’s this: finding a lick of privacy in the otherwise crowded Spider Society was near impossible. In fact it had surpassed being in the realm of near impossible to never achievable. Wherever you turned there was a Spider in need of help. Asking for the one person who always managed to get dragged away from your secretive plans.

Miguel wasn’t one to push off someone’s request for help. Yet the many inconveniences that pulled him away from you seemed to only drive him towards one solution. Doing what he could to steal away every moment that he had with you. He wasn’t oblivious—he knew people could see the way you looked at each other. Yet asking him the truth was never an option, and you were always swift in an escape plan whenever the question arose.

He didn’t mind you evading the truth. Given that he wasn’t one to be entirely open with everyone—he found you keeping whatever you had private admirable. Hell he even encouraged it.

Except for today that is.

“Miguel I know it’s a lot to ask but—” He felt his back stiffen at the sound of Peter’s voice behind him; the expectation of a request not far behind.

You had sent him a message asking him to meet you in an empty office twenty minutes ago, and he was adamant on making it there on time. But that possibility seemed to drift farther and farther away the longer he stood here. Peter’s cheery expression only soured Miguel’s. He had half a mind to make up something and escape, but the urge to help continued to gnaw at him.

“What?” he asked, attempting to keep his voice calm—steady.

“This mission is kind of well a little harder than most. Not that it’s impossible. I mean nothing’s impossible. But I was wondering if you—”

A message from Lyla let him know that you were indeed five minutes away from being stood up yet again. Something weighed heavy in his chest, a feeling he was used to harboring when it came to you. And he hated it. Shutting his eyes briefly he staved off the annoyance that built the longer Peter yammered on about the difficulty of one mission. If it were any other time, if you weren’t waiting patiently for him to show up, then he’d have agreed.

But that wasn’t the case.

“Dios mío,” he muttered, finally turning around. “Peter you’re capable right?”

The man froze. “I mean…yeah I’d say I was.”

“Then you don’t need me.”

“Yeah but Miguel—”

“I’ve got another mission to handle.” The excuse flowed with ease off his tongue. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d done this—having made up every excuse in the book just to steal away time with you. He was certain you had done the same, knowing you were meant to be helping Gwen with something in the labs.

Peter seemed to catch onto the urgency of Miguel’s tone, but not in the way he hoped. A sly smile spread across his lips as he leaned in to nudge Miguel on the shoulder. If there ever was a moment to grasp onto any level of peace in his body—now was it. He was halfway to throwing Peter out of his office.

“I get you,” he said, backing away with his hands up. “The mission is much more important.”

“Get out.”

Peter was gone before Miguel could finish the word out—finally giving him the peace and satisfaction he desired. Instructing Lyla to close up everything behind him, he made his way towards the empty office—hoping you were actually still there. He couldn’t exactly blame you if you weren’t. It was rough finding ways to meet up, away from everything and everyone here.

Finding excuses seemed to be your way to go about things.

The door was shut and locked by the time he reached it, but that was easy enough to bypass. Given that you were most likely resting on the inside he figured it would be better to slip in silently. Sure enough he found you settled in a chair, your eyes opening to see him shutting the door softly behind him, a grin on his lips.

“I’m a mission huh?” you mumbled, standing and stretching with a groan.

He snorted, his eyes falling to the way you bent—watching you step closer. “Didn’t have anything else to say.”

“I suppose I could be a mission.”

“Yeah? And what was your excuse?”

You shrugged, leaning against the desk with a grin. “I told Gwen I was needed for repairs.”

“On what?”

Crossing your legs, you watched him take a step. “Don’t think it matters? She wouldn’t have believed me anyways.”

For weeks you’d been playing this cat and mouse game. Trying to put off the attraction you felt in the hopes that this would dissolve into friendship once more. But you could see it in Miguel’s eyes that he wasn’t interested in friendship. Hell he wasn’t even interested in taking things slow. Neither were you it seemed.

“I guess they know,” he muttered, his thighs pressing against your knees.

You smiled, reaching up to trace the Spider insignia across his chest. “Guess they do.”

“What now?”

Pulling him closer, you tried to keep yourself calm when he willingly fell into your hold, his body hunching down to meet yours. “We figure it out later,” you whispered, your nose barely brushing his. He grinned the sharp point of his fangs poking through. “Good.”

[gnocchibabie]

some unspoken thing

john price x fem!reader

synopsis: price does his best to keep you away from a dangerous mission, but against his best efforts, you tag along anyway. when you find yourself injured, some interesting feelings are brought to the surface. 

tags/cw: graphic depictions of violence (I based the beginning of this on the “clean house” mission from mw19 but changed a few details), angst, fluff/comfort, mutual pining 

word count: 4.0k

a/n: i love price... also! if you would like a spicy part 2 of this…let me know bc i may or may not already have most of it written hehe.

The house - an unsuspecting little thing, sat in the middle of what everyone would agree to be a normal London suburb - was now coated in darkness. You had just reached the back door of the house from the fuse box, having carried out your orders to kill the power. Voices could be heard from inside the house now. You can’t make out exactly what they are saying, but imagine their hushed voices uttered words of confusion. Confused whispers became urgent, alarmed calls to each other and suddenly, all was quiet from inside the house.

 Slipping your night vision goggles over your eyes, what should have been a pitch black scene was coming to you in various shades of green. Amongst the other soldiers gathered around the door, you catch a glimpse of your captain, John Price, and sgt. Garrick. 

You study your captain’s face momentarily. His brow is furrowed in concentration, lips shut in a thin line as his attention is solely focused on the door ahead of him. His hand grips his gun and you note how one particular vein seems to pop out in response to him flexing his hand.  Price has an exceptional talent for being able to zero in when on the field - something you currently found yourself struggling with. He also had a talent for popping into your head at the most inconvenient times. Although, that was no fault of his own. Price catches your stare from the corner of his eye, causing you to quickly look away.  

A wave of shame makes your face heat up. Focus, you scold yourself. You’re gonna get yourself killed in there. You direct your attention back to the door ahead of you as everyone has begun to take their place. Gaz offers you a small nod and turns back to the door, waiting for Price to give a signal. You suck in a breath and take your place, pointing your gun to the entrance. Its green laser marks a spot on the wood that would surely be meeting someone on the other side. 

A quick nod from your captain, and the door is bashed inwards, wood splintering and flying into the air. A man stands in front of you on the other side and your laser meets a spot on his chest, the bullet that follows sending him to the floor. “Move in,” a gruff order from your captain sends you and the other soldiers into the house. Trailing behind Gaz and Price you make your way up the stairs of the house to the second floor as muffled shots ring out below - the rest of the team clearing out any threats on the first floor. “Gaz, first door on the left. Y/N with me,” Price whispers. The captain’s command puzzles you, considering what had transpired days before the mission. No matter. “Copy,” you mutter, creeping along the hall to the door next to Gaz’s. You catch a glimpse of him nudging the door open and hear an accompanying bang and thud. When you reach your door, Price stands at the other side of the entrance and slowly turns the knob - raising his gun to point into the cracked space. 

Another muffled shot and a thud. 

He moves into the room and you follow behind. As Price inspects his side of the room, you turn a corner to see a frantic man waving a gun around, holding a woman in front of him.

The sight makes you hesitate. “No! No - don’t shoot! Don’t kill me please! Please,” the woman is shrieking at you now, tears in her eyes as the man tells her to shut up. He has her in an iron grip, keeping her in place. In a split second you aim at the man’s head and send him crashing down, his human shield released and landing next to him on the floor. Before you even realize what’s happening, the woman is turned around reaching for something in the darkness. 

���Y/N GUN!” Price yells behind you, watching the scene play out before him.

He sends a round into the woman and she crumples to the ground, but not before a bullet of her own finds its way into you, digging into your shoulder. 

“Fuck-” you stumble back, pain exploding across your chest, shoulder, and arm. Red blossoms across your uniform, painting the military camo a bright crimson. Price is behind you now and steadying you to sit on the floor, his breathing uneven.

You try to collect yourself, despite the searing pain ripping through your body. The adrenaline from the altercation is the only thing keeping you grounded. “It’s not so bad,” you mutter, grimacing “she got me in the shoulder, just above my-” 

“Enough,” your captain’s tone ties your tongue in a knot, “Garrick, get her out of here and call for a medic. Now.” His eyes are dark and you suddenly feel very small in your place on the floor. 

-

Sat behind the house, you watch intently as the medic dresses your wound. The bullet had thankfully - and painfully - went clean through your shoulder. The combat medic skillfully wraps cloth around your arm and shoulder area; you wince as she tightens the dressings and ends it in a neat knot. “You’re quite lucky you know…” her eyes scan over her handiwork, seemingly satisfied with it for now, “We’ll stitch this up back at base, sounds like they’re almost done in there anyways” she says, putting her supplies back into its kit. “Yeah… thank you,” you reply hoarsely, the adrenaline wearing off and the pain beginning to catch up with you. Your frustration at the situation bites at you almost as hard as the intense ache radiating throughout your body. 

Of course it had to be me, you thought.

Price will boot me off the team for this.

He was right.

I’ve caused problems for everyone else.

I should have noticed her grabbing his gun.

What if she had shot him?

What if I compromised the mission?

I really am slipping.

What if Price-

The sound of boots coming down the stairs breaks you out of your thoughts. Looking up, you see Price, Gaz, and the rest of the team exit the house. You note Gaz is carrying a laptop and sigh, knowing it to be a sign your mission was successful. You had the intel you came here for. Getting shot had been worth it.

You suppose.

“Evacs on its way - let’s move out and…,” Price’s orders reach your ears but the tail end of his sentence becomes muddled. Your ears begin to ring and a feeling of panic settles in your chest. Now, a warm sensation creeps down your front. Looking down, you see that the cloth wrapped around your formerly stable wound had become soaked with blood. You open your mouth:

“Oh…”

“Shit!” the medic yells - her attention back on you. Cementing herself on the ground next to you, she eases you back onto the ground. Her hands come down hard on your shoulder to apply pressure and it takes everything in you not to scream out in pain. You try to watch as your blood stains her hands but black, hazy dots begin to cloud your vision. 

“You get her on that med-evac NOW dammit!” Price must have moved closer after the commotion. You struggle to make him out, even though he is looming directly over you. His dark, unreadable expression from earlier has been replaced by one of anger and worry. Maybe even fear. “Fucking hell she’s pale…” his remark isn’t heard by you - now fading in and out of consciousness and struggling to even keep your eyes open. A calloused hand brushes across your sweaty forehead, sweeping your hair out of your face. You can’t tell whose is.

“We need to move her now,” the medic states gesturing for Price to help lift you from your place on the ground, “On three - one, two, three-”

Amidst the uproar around you, you feel fatigue tug at your eyes and slip into a surprisingly comforting state of unconsciousness. 

-

A rapping knock sends Price’s attention to the door of his office. He shuts the file he’s currently reading and clears his throat, “Come in.”

When your frame comes into view, any traces of a smile immediately disappear from his face. In any other instance, the captain would be more than happy to see you. 

Years ago, Price had taken you under his wing as a new recruit at Laswell’s request. And as much as he had tried to prevent it, Price had taken a strong liking to you - too strong for his own comfort. 

This liking had become even more of a problem for the captain lately. Recently there had been several occasions when Price was filing reports and he found himself staring into a corner of his room wondering what you were up to. When you were actually together, his focus was poured solely into his work or whatever task was at hand. He knew the importance of what he did, and you devoted yourself equally as much to your job. Anything else between you two would be unprofessional. But at night, when he was alone - laying in bed and unable to sleep, John Price thought of you. If you were also lying in bed, struggling to fall asleep. How you were never afraid to offer your feedback, no matter who you spoke to. How you always had his back and how he always had yours. John Price knew he had feelings for you, but that didn’t mean he would - or even could - act on them. 

His main priority was work. It had to be. He takes pride in his role - he loves what he does. And so do you. He understands everything his job entails, meaning he understands how one day he could be gone from this earth in the blink of an eye. And so could you. So, why  would he ever act on those feelings? It was no matter whether or not you shared the same feelings  - he knew for a fact you did. 

Price was an observant man. He saw the way your posture changed when he walked into a room. He noted the way a blush crept across your cheeks whenever he called you “love” (which admittedly started as a joke, but now he does it to get a rise out of you)  - noticed even more so the way you would immediately look away to hide the red on your face. Had tried not to pull you aside to another room and just bare his heart to you right then and there after you had brought him a pack of imported cigars from one of your missions - even after he specifically told you not to worry yourself about picking something up for him. 

But why would he risk putting you in even more danger than you face everyday? For some probable short-lived relationship that may end up leaving one of you irreparably scarred, to no fault of your own? You could be used against him, and him against you. The man couldn’t rationalize it. And if he couldn’t have a relationship with you, he would do everything in his power to keep you out of trouble while he still could. So when he had gotten word that his and your efforts had paid off - had led you to a house where affiliates of Al-Qatala were harboring weapons and intel, he took you off the raid that was soon to come. It was selfish, he knew that. Even Laswell had questioned his request. But the thought of you in a close quarters mission encountering terrorists armed to the teeth filled the man with dread. He wouldn’t have it.Your voice finally reaches his ears.

“I’m off the mission?” you say, hurt and bitterness evident in your voice.

“Y/N-”

“I’m off the mission and I didn’t even find out through you? Fucking Gaz had to break the news to me?”

“Love, I would suggest you calm down for a moment and watch your tone,” his voice is low, stern. 

You scoff, “Sorry sir -” your voice is dripping with attitude and it stirs something inside of John’s chest. You continue, “But seriously? We’ve been tracking these guys for months - I’ve been gathering so much intel. For you! Just for you to take me off this breach when we finally know where they are? And I get no explanation?” you look up at Price, searching for something in his eyes. He stares at yours, noting the dark bags under them. He wonders how you’ve been sleeping lately. Not the time, he thinks to himself.

Price pauses for a moment. “You want an explanation?” he looks down at you, “You’ve been slipping lately. I saw you during our last outing. You’re unfocused. Bloody miracle you got out as unscathed as you did - and if you keep it up, next time you won’t be as lucky” his words reverberate throughout the room and are followed by a tense, punctuated silence. Price struggled to keep his eyes on you, struggled even more to throw such exaggerated criticism your way. 

You sit there, stock still. Silence, and then -

“Wow…Sir that - that is…the biggest load of horseshit I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“And that attitude is another reason in itself why you’re sticking behind.” Price booms, knowing damn well he would be just as upset if he was in your shoes.

“You taught me all I know about having a bad attitude.” you whisper. 

It seems almost impossible for the office to grow quieter but it does. Price is mad. Not at you, but rather mad at the situation he’s put himself, and you into. “Captain. I mean it. If there’s one thing you’ve taught me, it’s to call people out on their bullshit. No matter who they are.” you stare into his eyes now. 

You can feel his frustration but observe something else you can’t quite place, “So, I’m calling bullshit. I’m going on this mission. I deserve it and I can handle it.”

The man chuckles dryly. Truthfully, he finds himself increasingly annoyed yet drawn to your stubbornness. “Well, it’s already been decided-”

“I spoke with Laswell before coming to see you. I suggest you go do the same - seems like she sees more eye to eye with me on this issue. Unlike you I’ve got enough courtesy to give someone a heads up when their plans change.”

And before he can even say anything, you’re up. Chair loudly scraping across the floor as you stomp out and slam the door of his office closed. 

Price hears your footsteps retreat down the hall. As soon as you’re out of earshot, a string of curses leaves his mouth and he slams a fist down on his desk. All his efforts to keep you at bay - whether that be away from danger or away from his heart had failed. 

“Fuck.” he breathes. 

-

You’re pulled out from your sleep by the sound of beeping. A high pitched, rhythmic beeping stings your ears and you try to force your eyes open. Immediately, your sight is flooded by an overwhelming brightness. You groan and something stirs beside you. 

“Y/N?” a gruff voice you could place anywhere asks.

“Price…” you croak, throat dry. You squint your eyes and attempt to take in your surroundings. 

You lie in a hospital bed, adorned with a plain gown and covered in white blankets. Turning your head slightly, you see a vase of flowers next to you. Sunflowers. Your favorite.

Captain John Price sits in a chair next to your bed. His eyes are bloodshot.

You try to sit up for a better view but your movements become halted as a searing pain rips at your shoulder and arm. Oh, right.

“Careful, love” John is standing now, helping you to sit up properly. He gingerly straightens you, careful to avoid your newly stitched up wound. 

You don’t meet his gaze, though you can feel the way he looks at you - as if you’re made of porcelain. 

“You can go ahead and say it” you begin, “Tell me how you were right and I was wrong. How I fucked up back there and almost got both us kill-” you sputter, throat still dry. Price grabs a water bottle sitting on the nightstand next to you. Wordlessly, he unscrews the cap and places a hand on your chin. Now you’re looking at him. You dip your head back and he places the tip of the bottle on your lips, allowing you to drink. The water is cool and chills your throat. 

“You really are something,” Price says, “gabbin’ off to me after getting bloody shot - almost bleeding out.” he almost laughs. You swallow and look away, your attention turned towards your flowers. 

“Something was bound to happen, it was inevitable. I’m slipping just like you said.” you whisper and he swears he sees your eyes get glassy. 

Price sighs. “Y/N…I was wrong to say that. There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re one of the best damn soldiers I’ve worked with. These things happen - it’s inevitable in our line of work.” he looks up to see your attention still fixed upon the sunflowers on your nightstand. “But this happened on my command, you wanna blame someone - blame me. Not yourself.” 

That has you turning your head to him, head tilting in confusion. 

“You’re not responsible for me.” you’re quick to reply. Price understands what you mean, but that doesn’t stop the pang in his heart from your words. He looks down, shaking his head. “I am.” he says bluntly.

Silence fills the room again, making you think back to the ordeal that transpired in his office right before the mission. You both feel unsure of what to say now.

“How long have I been asleep?” you finally ask.

“About a day and a half.”

You think for a moment.

“Am I gonna lose my arm?” you attempt a joke.

He stifles a laugh, but feels a little guilty after. You shouldn’t be making light after such an ordeal, but he decides against lecturing you. “You’ll keep your arm another day. They cleaned the wound and stitched it up. Lost a lot of blood - had to have a transfusion. You almost went into shock.”

“Oh…” Silence. “Well, did we get the intel we needed?” you question, remembering the laptop you saw Gaz carrying right before you passed out.

“We did. That’s all you need to know right now. I’ll brief you when you aren’t hooked up to all these machines." His answer seems to satisfy you.

“Who are the flowers from?” you ask, trying to move on. 

“That would be me.”

More silence.

“I love sunflowers.” you mutter, dumbly.

Price chuckles at this, “I know, love.”

“...Why…did you do that for me?”

Price pauses, considering how best to answer your probing, “Because I know you love them.” A simple answer. Your heart beat is picking up slightly, the beeps from the monitor increasing in frequency.

Thoughts swarm in your head. The same ones that buzz around on sleepless nights when you wonder what your captain happens to be doing in the same moment. You think for a while and Price watches you. 

“Why did you…say all those things - before, in your office? If you clearly don’t believe them.” you ask finally.

John takes in a deep breath and takes one more look at the bright yellow flowers, then into your eyes. “I don't…” he has to think carefully about his response, “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. Ever. I wanted to leave you behind for this mission. Wanted to keep you out of harm's way - but I know - I know I can’t. You run head first into danger every day, I know that. And I know you’re going to help anywhere you can. That’s who you are.” he exhales, “I know it’s inevitable things like this will happen on the job - to both of us. Know it’ll catch up with me one day,” you wince at this and he feels his heart sink again, but continues, “I’m sorry for what I said. More for what happened. I was so angry when you got hurt, still angry-”

“It’s not your fault,” you stop him.

“I’ll hear none of tha-”

“John.” you breathe, something different about your tone. “When are we going to talk about this?”

“We are-”

“This unspoken thing between us.”

He feels like the breath is knocked out of him. John Price has fought in wars, fallen out of helicopters, faced horrors normal people couldn’t even dream up - but nothing could prepare him for this conversation he’s desperately been trying to avoid. 

Despite his best efforts, his walls slowly start to fall.

“We’re certainly not gonna talk about it with you in this hospital bed,” he says

“So when?” you quip, “When I inevitably end up in one again? In an even worse state? Or when you find yourself in one?” He shakes his head at the thought. “When, Price?” Your persistence stirs him and before he knows it, the captain extends a hand towards you, resting it on your own.

When he can’t find any words, you continue: “When she shot me…all I thought about for a moment was you. If it hadn't been me it would have been you. I thought about you…I find myself thinking about you a lot these days…and I was thanking whoever happens to be listening up there that I got caught in the shoulder instead of the heart, so I didn’t have to leave you…so I need you to know how I feel. And it’s okay if you don't feel the same - though I think you do - but if you don't, I’ll deal with it and we’ll move on and you can laugh at me but I need you to know.” you close your eyes after rushing through the tail end of your confession. You wish the hospital bed would just swallow you whole.

You feel his hand close over yours, moving it up to his lips, still careful not to strain your shoulder. A kiss is pressed into your fingers. Your eyes snap open and a soft gasp leaves your mouth.

“Well I don’t know how you expect me to follow that up, love” Price says, meeting your surprised expression. “And I would never laugh at you - probably.” That has you giggling. He smiles at the noise. “I think of you all the time too love. How couldn’t I? You’ve been in my life for years now. We’ve worked together for years…I want to be with you all the time. So, if we’re going to do this, we need to understand what we’re getting ourselves into and what-”

You cut him off, “Oh please - you think I haven’t thought of this? John, I know what a relationship with you would mean. Probably more than anyone else in this world,” you make sure to look into his eyes before your next words, “but I would choose it - over and over again I would choose you.”

Price doesn’t understand it. Doesn’t understand how someone with as much blood on his hands as he has could ever be graced to hear this. Graced to have you. 

He cups your cheek, moving some hair out of your face. “You better get well and out of this bed soon, love. We have a lot of lost time to make up for.” He moves his face closer and studies your eyes. His gaze flickers down to your mouth. He closes the gap between you both and presses his lips against yours. 

The machine monitoring your heart rate begins beeping rapidly. You both laugh, “Do I get you that riled up, darling?” Price teases you. Not a moment later, a nurse comes bursting through the door. You quickly pull away from each other as she rushes over to you. “Are you alright dear?” she asks, looking over the heart monitor. It begins to slow now, beeping at a normal pace. “What happened? What had you all worked up?” she continues, clearly confused. You and Price share a look, beginning to laugh all over again. 

[lokimobius]

🖤 please 😭

I wrote most of this on the bus to and from work today lmao! I did want to make this more angsty but I couldn't bring myself to do that.

I hope you enjoy, anon! 🥹

🖤 kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation

They stood at the cliff edge and watched as the tide crashed against it. It was a long way down. Except, it wasn’t. They’d just spent the last few minutes throwing rocks off the edge, testing out a hypothesis. The rocks should have fallen right into the ocean, rippling the water as they broke the surface. But they didn’t. Instead, they disappeared into nothingness, as if pulled into an alternate dimension.   

Much to Mobius’ protest, Loki was stooped down by the edge of the cliff, watching intently as the last rock fell. “It has to be through there,” he said as he stood up and brushed the dust on his hands off onto his trousers.  

Mobius instinctively moved closer to him, his hand reaching closer to his arm, just in case. “Ok, let’s say, just theoretically, that it is through there. How are we going to reach it?”   

Loki looked at him sheepishly, and, oh no, he did not like that look. Loki was about to suggest something stupid. He took a breath and opened his mouth to talk, but Mobius covered it with his hand.  

“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t.”

Loki removed Mobius' hand from his mouth and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll probably survive.” The corners of his mouth quirked up a little bit. “I have a good track record.”

Mobius’ hands flew to his hips, and he stared at Loki incredulously. “Don’t joke about this, Loki. Just because you’ve survived this long by throwing yourself in the face of danger does not mean I’m letting you do it again.”

“I’m the best chance that we have at finishing this mission safely.”

 “And that’s a chance I’m unwilling to take.”

“Mobius–”

“Sorry. No.” He glared at Loki, holding up his hand, palm outstretched towards Loki’s face, cutting off whatever he was about to say. Mobius didn't want to hear it.  “Come up with something else.”

He paced back and forth, searching his brain for any kind of option that didn’t involve Loki leaving. However, he knew that there wasn’t anyone else more well-equipped to handle this situation than Loki. His heart lurched at the thought.

“Someone else can go.” He offered weakly.

“Mobius, the Aether is protected by dark magic.” He gave him a withering look. “This portal could lead anywhere. You’d be willing to risk another’s life by putting them in such danger?”

“I am not putting your life at risk.” He snapped. “End of discussion.”

He could not believe that Loki was being this reckless with his life. He turned away from his partner as tears formed in his eyes.

“Mobius, whatever has gotten into you? I know we tend to clash when coming up with ideas, but it’s unlike you to be so adamant.”

Mobius sighed as he looked up at the purple sky, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill. Green and blue clouds swirled above them, tinging the world with an uneasy hue.

It hadn’t been long since they’d saved Loki from the end of time. He thought that they’d at least be able to spend a bit more time together before he started throwing himself into danger again.

In this timeline, Kang followed the path that Thanos had taken in Loki’s original timeline. The mission was simple: find all of the infinity stones before Kang could; otherwise, he’d be able to traverse the multiverse at his own will.

Luckily for them, they’d managed to find most of them fairly easily. It was only the Reality Stone that remained. Which, inconveniently, was hidden away behind a portal, out of reach for mere mortals such as himself.

He knew that Loki was right. He was the best chance that they had, and he probably would be fine. But he was so scared of losing him again. Not after last time. Not after he didn’t know if Loki would ever come back from the tree. 

The memory of Loki alone at the end of time flashed in his mind. His heart had already been broken once; he couldn’t go through it again. Not when he finally had a purpose—a reason to live for the first time in his long, long life.

Loki was at his side in an instant. He held Mobius’ face in his hands carefully. “Mobius...”

“You’ll come back, right?” He pleaded, his voice shaking. “Promise me you’ll come back.” He gripped the lapel of Loki’s coat so forcefully that his knuckles turned white. He didn’t want to let go. He couldn’t.

“Of course. I swear to you, Mobius, I will always come back to you.”   

Loki leant close and kissed away Mobius’ tears as they fell down his cheeks. His lips were light on his skin, so tender that Mobius wanted to melt.

He turned his head to the side and bumped his nose with Loki’s before covering his lips with his. The kiss was soft and slow, one that made Mobius wish he had the power to pause time.

He pressed harder and licked at Loki’s bottom lip in hopes that deepening the kiss would convince Loki to come back to the TVA with him. But Loki pulled back slightly, smiling against his lips.

The kiss returned to softness, it lacked the heat and lust that Mobius had tried to inject into it, but it was still full of love and trust.

It felt like a promise.

Loki pulled away and ran a hand through Mobius’ hair in an attempt to soothe him further. 

“I’ll complete the mission successfully and be back before dinner.” He said softly as he continued to caress Mobius’ face. He had a determined look on his face, but his eyes were soft and warm. The smile that he gave Mobius then was one of his favourites; it was so fond, and his eyes crinkled adorably. It was the smile that was reserved just for him.

“I’ll even do all the paperwork by myself for all the trouble I put you through,” He added with a quick peck.

Mobius laughed and shook his head, releasing his grip on his partner. “If you miss dinner, I will hunt you down personally.”

"Yes, sir.” Loki saluted him with a wink.

Loki moved towards the cliff edge, his back to the abyss behind him. He didn’t look scared at all. In fact, his eyes sparkled, and he smiled at Mobius once more.

He bowed and took Mobius’ hand in his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“See you at home.”

His eyes met Mobius’ as he jumped backwards off the cliff, disappearing into the portal far below.

“Mischievous scamp,” Mobius said to the now empty space in front of him. He took out his TemPad and opened a door back to the TVA, ready to wait anxiously for Loki’s return.