#I like the tiny oranges they are easier to peel and eat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

binniesthighs · 4 years ago

Text

cherry knot | reader x ryujin

a/n: you may be thinking to yourself, ro! a gg fic?? how unlike you!! well, boy do i have news for you 😂 truthfully, i’ve always been toying with the idea of writing a lil somethin’ (esp for ryujin god i love her) so i thought why not! if this isn’t your cup of tea, that’s totally okay <3 those who do read, thank you so much for reading and i hope that ya like it hehe and let me know what you think of it! :D (thank you @dom--minnie for enabling me too ;)

cherry knot | reader x ryujin

🍒 Pairing: self insert, female reader x shin ryujin

🍒 Genre: fluff n’ a lil bit suggestive

🍒 Tags: friends to lovers, high school au (everyone depicted is 18+), all girls school au, high school crush!ryujin, shy!reader, confession of feelings, that good, good makin’ out, ryujin being flirty and smug as hell bc i love her, yeah this is just me gushing about shin ryujin, ro trying new things on the blog :)

🍒 Word count: 2.9k

🍒 CWs: mentions of food and eating reader included

The grass felt sticky and uncomfortable under your crossed legs, and when you swiped your hand against the skin, you could feel the indentation from the blades. Your knee-high socks felt itchy too; everything felt itchy. Even the cotton of your shirt felt like it was suffocating, and the bow tied around your neck which hung loosely should have hung even looser.

To distract yourself, you plucked up the blades of green and tied them into knots absentmindedly. It was easier to pay attention to your idle hands compared to paying attention to her.

Could she even tell that you were looking? Could she see out of the corner of her eye when she threw her cotton-candy pink hair behind her ear? Could she tell that you watched as she gulped down the lemonade and caught a glance at the peachy fuzz of her neck exposed by her collar?

Stop looking. Stop looking.

Your other friends tied up their hair in clips and with lazy hair ties to free their sweating necks from the sun. No matter the sweltering heat, it was always tradition for your picnic just before the summer vacation. One of them had brought a cake and each of the girls attacked it viciously with small forks and smeared bits of frosting on each other’s noses.

“Come here!! You’re next!!” They beamed while launching themselves in your direction to dot your nose with the white cream.

A flurry of high pitched giggles peeled out from each of you once another frosting victim had been dubbed. Your cheeks felt furiously hot knowing that she was looking; and that she was laughing along with the rest of them.

“Awwww cute.” She adored with a smile that turned her dimples into whiskers on her cheeks.

You quickly wiped it off with a handkerchief that settled into your damp hand.

She’s looking, she’s looking…

The other girls pranced around the checkered picnic blanket in their white socks--undoubtedly painting them with green that their mothers would scold them for later. Their careless steps made a mess of the food wrappers and canvas backpacks that held down the corners of the thin fabric. The joyous cheers of the girls seemed to harmonize with the song of the cicadas in the trees; both sounds reminded you of the coming of the summer and the humid weather that makes the air dense.

One of the girls brought out her phone and played loudly from it one of her favorite songs which she knew every word too, regardless of the fact that her tone was far from the singer’s.

You and your friends never cared much for how others would view you. Even at school when you would march through the hallways arm-and-arm, others would stare at the way that none of you batted an eye at those who would glare.

They were just jealous was all.

“Be careful!!” You found yourself scolding, “What if you fall running around like that?”

In response, your friends promptly stuck out their tongues in your general direction.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ryujin coolly popped another cherry into her mouth from the bowl by her crossed legs. “If they fall, let them! It's funnier that way.”

She threw a wink right at you, which you almost didn’t catch because you had quickly averted your eyes to become much more interested in the tiny tea-cakes.

“You’re always worrying Y/n! Its summer!”

“I-I do not.”

Ryujin chuckled in that way that always made you feel like your heart was just about ready to leap out of your chest.

“Lighten up! Come on!”

Before you could process it all, your friend patted down the wrinkles in her skirt and threw off her shoes. She rose, and neared your corner of the blanket with hands outstretched.

“Stop worrying about things or if people are watching!” She scolded you with a cute and tiny pout, “Get up!” Ryujin wriggled her hands with emphasis to show you that you could take hold of them.

“W-what…?”

The other girls giggled on, hardly even noticing the two of you over their singing.

You grabbed onto her hands, already loathing how damp your own felt against hers out of your own nervousness. She still held onto you tightly, saying nothing of them and helped you to your feet. Immediately she brightened once you played along and started to swing your arms in tune with the song. Your friend lip synced to the rap part and you felt just about ready to swoon from how cool she looked saying the words with ease.

“Dance with me!! Don’t pay attention to people walking by or anything like that!”

Ryunjin led you by the hand to the patch of grass with little white and pink flowers laced into it. You really did try to pay attention to dancing, but everything else seemed to be distracting even when you tried hard enough. She brought your hand up higher to spin her, and when she twisted, everything seemed to happen in slow motion: the billow of her plaid shirt, her rosy-pink hair which swiped just at her shoulders, even the way that the sunset melted behind her into swirls of sunburst yellow and vibrant orange. It was like she was all a part of it.

“Your turn!” She said, twisting you too.

You didn’t realize that you would have been as dizzied by it as you were, but when you lost your footing, she was just as quick to help you with her hands carefully grasped onto your shoulders.

“You okay?” Ryujin asked, out of breath, but still genuine.

“I’m fine!”

Your knees wobbled with barely any strength to them, but you mustered every bit of confidence that you had to keep being this close to her. You surprised yourself when you reached back for her hands to continue swinging them between you.

The other girls collapsed back onto the blanket in a pile of shallow exhales and airy laughs that they exchanged between them.

“No more dancing, I-I can’t do any more…” One of them announced while leaning against the shoulder of another one of your friends.

“I forgot! I brought this!!” One of your friends with pigtail braids dove deeply into her backpack and pulled out nearly all of the contents before finding the small cube-case which was decorated with an obscene amount of keychains. “My camera! We have to take some pictures so that we can remember this!”

The other girls squealed in agreement and ganged up on her to fit into the frame of the white Polaroid camera that she had also splattered with stickers.

“Here, I wanna show you something.” Ryujin drew your attention back to the blanket where she settled back down with her own bag draped over her legs.

“What is it?”

“Ryujinnie! I wanna take your picture too! Your pink hair is so pretty…” One of your friends cooed with a sad downturn to her lips, “I hope that you never change it.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. We’ll see. My cousin has been saying that she wants to see what I would look like blonde these days.”

The small talk didn’t concern you too much, you were more concerned with what it was that your friend had to show you.

“I’m going on a trip with my cousins soon so we’ll see what happens.”

Your friend sighed, and skipped over the mess of the blanket to pull Ryujin by the wrist to the walkway a little farther off. “You’d look so cute over here!”

She pardoned her, and stumbled after the eager girl to let her take a Polaroid of her. Even from far away, you could still hear the two of them admire the picture with happy little expressions of “ah! I told you that it would look good!”

The two girls returned, and you began to worry if your friend even remembered what she had said in the first place.

What is it? What does she want to show me?

“Shoot!!” Another one of your friends huffed out while looking at her phone, “I forgot that I have to tutor the middle schoolers today!! I’m late!!”

The girls went to action in a mere matter of seconds sweeping up the picnic assortment and shoving the leftovers into their backpacks.

You helped them and tried to look over to your other friend who didn’t return your glances. Perhaps she really had forgotten.

You let your imagination run wild for just a few moments, although the more that you did, the more it all just seemed preposterous. Maybe it was a confession letter, maybe she had written for you one of those poems like she had liked to do, maybe she had rather wanted to talk to you about something...say something that you wanted to say back…

“I’m going to stick around.” Ryunjin said suddenly with her hands on her hips. “Y/n, you’re welcome to stay too if you want. We don’t exactly have to go home yet since the sun’s still up.”

Your friends looked to you for your answer, to which you stammered out an, “O-okay…” The best that you could.

“See you later!!” They called after with their shoes only half-slid onto their feet.

You waved them off, but the farther that they walked away, the more the realization started to hit you that you were alone with her. The sound of your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and you calmed it trying to think about anything else but the fact that now her attention was truly undivided upon you.

“You said that you wanted to show me something?”

Your friend nodded, and patted the grass beside her for you to join her. She gathered up the small bundle of cherries left behind and positioned them into her lap.

“I learned this trick a little bit ago and I wanted to show you!”

“A trick?”

She nodded, and plucked from one of the crimson berries a stem which she put directly into her mouth.

“What are you doing?!” On the surface, it didn’t seem like the most sanitary thing to do.

Ryunjin stifled a laugh and lightly hit you on the arm to chastise you. “Just wait a minute!”

You watched in your confusion as her face contorted a little, and her eyebrows twisted like she was thinking. Her cheeks puffed a little too, and you could tell that she was doing something with it in her mouth--it was only then when you realized that you had been intensely observing her mouth.

In your embarrassment you threw your eyes in the other direction, but it was no use one you heard her start to giggle at how flustered you had become.

“It’s okay, you’re supposed to look.” She assured you.

“What-what is it?”

“Annnnd done!” Your friend proclaimed proudly and you struggled to meet her again without feeling like your whole face and the tips of your ears were burning up.

Right on the pink of her tongue she had tied the stem into a tiny knot which she displayed proudly.

“You...did that with your tongue?”

“Mm-hm!”

Your hands reduced back to their clammy state, and they found the grass between your own folded legs to find something to do.

“That's...that’s pretty cool…”

“I know right?!”

Back came your friend's little dimples, and this time your chest started to feel like it was swelling with heat.

Stop looking, stop looking…

“I can teach you how to do it some day if you’d like.” Ryujin’s tone dropped lower, and more serious in the way that some had thought to be intimidating. To you, there was nothing more that could make you feel the beat of your own heart more obviously.

“Teach me? How??”

The question felt like a butterfly in your lips, fluttering and ticklish, light and uncertain. You met her eyes the best you could; even though you knew that there was nothing about her that you didn’t already know, or that was threatening.

Your friend tilted her head, inspecting you and the way that you could barely keep your glance away from her lips--stained just a little red from the cherries--then smiled.

“W-what? What is it? Why are you smiling?”

She sighed, and craned forward on one of her hands in the grass, bridging the distance between the two of you to caress down the side of your face, all the way to your jaw with the back of her fingers.

“You’re just too cute.”

“Hm?” Your chest threw itself up and down, and you could thinly feel the breath that tried to fill your lungs when she was this close.

“I just can’t handle it any more.”

“Me?”

Ryunjin nodded, softening her eyes until they were nearly closed, and rid the two of you of all space, leaning over just so you could feel the weight of her chest nearly pressing into yours. At first, she placed the lightest of kisses into you, so light that it barely brushed against your lips, but merely imprinted upon them. She leaned back, leaving you with the ghost of a feeling of her upon you. It felt a bit unfair how fleeting it was, and how she looked at you like that: smug as ever, but as blissful as she always was.

Your breaths tried to make sense of it all, if it had just happened, and what to think of it. As quick as it was, all you could want was to feel it again.

“Ryu--”

She cradled both sides of your face in hers, leaning in with more fervor and parting your lips with hers, leaving you to squeak from the sudden movement. You couldn’t figure out how to kiss back at first, or if you should hold her too. Your head felt like it was spinning in circles from your disbelief when you could taste the tiny tang of the sweet and sour cherries which lingered on her lips. She rubbed her thumbs into your cheeks, and angled you better to let her growing smile paint your own mouth from corner to corner.

At last, you were able to find a rhythm which suited you, and you kissed her right back. She giggled at your stroke of confidence and the vibrations made your whole body tingle. Your feet had surely fallen asleep where you had folded them beside you, but the numb feeling of them dissolved once her hands fell to your shoulder where she held to you tightly. The pressure from the tips of her fingers made you shiver, and you too smoothed down the pink shine of her hair.

The warm and ticklish feeling of her tongue grazed your lower lip where she changed her approach and deepened her kiss. The heat of tongues finally met in the middle testing and learning more of the other the closer that you became, and tiny airy gasps got stuck between both of your curiosity. In your lap, her hands found yours and they laced together and held tight; each digit wrapping the other and becoming one with the eagerness of her thumb rubbing little circles into the squishy parts of your hand.

After the heat of your passion started to melt, you found yourself hiding your giddy laughter the best you could once she started to peck at your lips over and over until you felt like she had kissed you so close to the brim that you would overflow.

“I said that you’re cute and I mean it!” She snuck the phrase in between a couple more kisses, eliciting you to fold up in your giddy embarrassment from the compliment.

Ryunjin pulled away, and popped another cherry into her mouth from the bundle, then threw her arms around your shoulders. You simply let your hands rest in her lap covered by the plaid of her skirt; shaking from the release of the endorphins and the adrenaline.

“Ryujin...I wanted to tell you that I’ve had a crush on you for a...really long time…” You shied, but she brought your chin back to look at her directly.

“Good. Me too.”

You couldn’t even process the combination of her words for them to make sense. White noise filled your ears, even though it should have been obvious from the way that she had kissed you like that.

“Oh! Here. I wanted to give this to you too. Something to remember me by.”

She reached for her bag, and pulled out a white-out pen from the front pocket. The Polaroid had faded into its full color, and she focused with her tongue peeking from her mouth as she wrote the message:

see you soon <3

- ryujinnie

Over her head in the picture, she doodled a few hearts, then she blew on the ink to dry it.

“For you!”

You took the picture with your hands still thoroughly shaking, and all you could utter was a “thanks” while you took in your friend looking as gorgeous as she always was. You knew then that you would treasure the image forever, and the day which it was taken.

“Who knows,” Ryujin started, and let her head fall to your shoulder where she nuzzled in, “This might be the last that you’ll see of my pink hair too.”

You turned the picture over, already sensing how it made your heart feel like it was aching sticky and sweet, just like the cherries.

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @iwanttobangchan @dom--minnie @waterthemoon @pastelracha @mistakensilence @hotgorloikawa @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

568 notes · View notes

reidyoulikeabook · 4 years ago

Text

Clementine

Summary: You and your boyfriend Spencer share some fruit on the way home after a case.

Ship: BAU! GN reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: Mentions of eating?

Word count: .9k

A/N: I just got this image in my head of you feeding Spencer, and this is what my brain decided to spit out. Just some sickly sweet fluff.

The case was long. Not hard, in the end, the takedown was relatively simple and you’d managed to get the hostage back. But you’d been out in some tiny town in Alabama for two weeks, stuck in a hotel that had terrible AC and an even worse selection of fast food places.

By the time you get to the jet, everyone has pretty much entered into a silent agreement not to speak until you get back to Quantico. The trip has been exhuasting, and everyone is eager to get home to their own showers - ones that have water pressure more than a trickle. You’re not sure you’ve felt clean in a week.

Still, while the rest of the team fans out across the jet, you and Spencer take your usual seats next to each other.

Your head leans against his shoulder, and he tilts his own so it rests atop of yours. The weight of it is comforting, even with the unfamiliar scent of hotel shampoo instead of the lavender scent you’ve come to identify as Spencer’s.

It’s then you remember your purchase on the way here, when Hotch stopped for gas, “Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to share this? I got it from the gas station.”

“What is it?” He asks, his eyes having closed once he’d settled into position, unwilling to open them even for his stomach that threatened to start growling in protest any minute now.

“It’s a tangerine.”

“Yes please.”

Shifting a little, you take it out of your jacket pocket.

“That’s actually a clementine.”

“What’s the difference?”

He swallows, “Tangerines are smaller. Clementines are a little bigger, the skin is more orange in colour as well as being shinier and smoother. It’s thinner too so it’s easier to peel. The shape is also a bit different, clementines are more oval and have a flat spot on the top or bottom.”

“Do they taste any different?” You ask, handing him a piece, and placing one in your mouth.

“I think clementines are sweeter.”

You spare him the effort of moving his arm, bringing it to his lips so he only has to dip his head a little to accept the offering. You tilt your head so you can look at him, smiling as he gratefully eats the piece of fruit given to him. You eat your slice, fiddling with the peel to free two more segments. It goes like that, then, the two of you sat in silence against each other eating it.

His arm shifts around your shoulder, holding you against him, his other hand pulling a tissue out of your pocket when some of the juice squirts on your hand. You smile, wordlessly accepting it, and leaning further back into him. He moves to hold you closer.

Until you get to the last piece.

“For you,” You insist, holding it up for him.

“You bought it,” He says, shaking his head.

“And I want you to have it.”

“I’m good. I’ve eaten all the clementine I can manage,” He smiles.

God chose his moments to spite Spencer though, because no sooner does he say it, his stomach is releasing the growl that’s been brewing for the last fifteen minutes or so.

“Your stomach would beg to differ,” You laugh, holding it aloft so it’s in line with his lips, “Come on.”

He shakes his head, “My stomach is probably mad at all the lactose from all the coffees.”

“And you don’t think it’d be less mad if you ate this?”

“I think it’d be more mad knowing I was stealing food from you.”

“It’s not stealing if I give it.”

“Well, actually, an act can be classified as stealing if the person who’s giving it to you willingly isn’t in the right frame of mind to be making a decision about what they’re giving up.”

“Are you saying I’m not in the right frame of mind to offer my oranges, Spencer Reid?” You ask, quirking your eyebrow.

He laughs, “You’re in a perfectly sound state of mind as always _____, but I’m not taking it from you.”

Rolling your eyes, you pop it at the edge of your lips. He looks at you, slightly confused for a moment, but then your hand is on the back of his neck and he gets it. Leaning up, you press a gentle kiss to his mouth, using your tongue to slip the piece of fruit inside.

It’s incredibly tame, and nobody is even looking, but a fierce blush creeps onto his cheeks anyway as he sucks the segment into his mouth.

“You’re welcome,” You say, kissing his cheek and settling back against him, “With any luck I won’t have to listen to your stomach all the way back to Quantico now.”

He huffs, swallowing and kissing the top of your head, “I was going to go and make a coffee.”

Intertwining your fingers with his, you loop them around your waist so he’s holding you against him, “But that means you have to get up. Do you want to get up right now?”

No. There’s no way on earth he wants to get up right now. Not when his beautiful partner is splayed across him, sweet and soft, feeling so safe that they’re practically asleep already. No. Instead, he closes his eyes. The feeling of utter contentment, and the lingering taste of citrus, is the only thing on his mind as he drifts off into sleep.

---

Tagslist: @calm-and-doctor @sassiest-politician @takeyourleap-of-faith (message or comment to be added/removed!)

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #reid x reader #spencer reid x reader #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds imagines #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x you #bau!reader

531 notes · View notes

jazz-miester · 4 years ago

Text

Lying is supposed to be easy. So why do you make it so hard?

Pairing: Optimus Prime X Reader

Song: weathers- c'est la vie

Warnings: Bit of angst. Cursing.

An: A character/story idea I may never write. Let me know what all of you think!

A cigarette hangs loosely from thier lips. Unlit. The lighter they had pulled out wove around thier fingers. Y/n's mind still undecided if they wanted it lit or not. Granted, it wasn't a normal cigarette. Herbal. Some sort of lavender and chamomile medley.

They had promised to quite long ago. But some habits die hard and it's easier to find an alternative than fall back on old vices.

Thier hands shook slightly as they finally brought the lighter to the cigarette. On hand curling protectively around the flame and the wind howled around then.

Rain fell heavily down to the earth. The first rain in Jasper Nevada since god knows when. They needed it. Desperate for it.

God's knew they missed it. Some old memory locked away in thier mind. Cobwebs dusted away from thier not to long ago childhood.

They were barely into thier adulthood. Some would say.

It doesn't matter.

Smoke spilled out from between thier lips. Curling around and drifting into the cool air.

Thunder roared from the dark clouds. A sounding trumpet for lighting to follow.

Y/n's old chevy rattled with it. Thier heater sputtering a few times before finally giving up. Soon blasting cool air instead. They cursed. Smacking the dashboard.

"Mother fucker." They hung thier hand out the window. The cigarette almost put out by the wind. "First the fucking tire then this." Y/n hisses through thier teeth. They smack the dashboard one more time. "Last time I let someone else work on you." They turn the truck off. The silence sudden and heavy broken only by the rumbling thunder and rain smacking against the trucks roof.

Y/n checks thier phone. It was six now. Two more hours before nightfall. The tow company said they be here four hours ago. They wonder if the company decided to stay because if the rain. Wait for it to pass. Maybe this wind knocked down a power pole or two.

Or maybe the company was just lazy.

Y/n's stomach growled and they glanced over at the take out in the worn seat next to them. Chicken teriyaki and rice. Should they eat now? Probably. Before it got cold.

They blew out another huff of smoke. The window frame was wet now. As well as part of thier leg. They smashed the end of the cigarette into the ashtray and rolled thier window up. The hand crank sticking momentarily before letting go with a squeak.

They began to eat. Still keeping an eye out for the tow truck in the rapidly dimming light.

Halfway through eating thier phone buzzed. Rattling across the dashboard and onto the floor. Cursing they swallowed thickly and sputtered. Clearing thier throat before answering.

"Hello?" The phone cracked in and out. Reception was spotty this far out if town.

"We..... Can't..... Unable." Thier phone screen lit up. They held it out in front of then. The screen cracked. Obscuring part of what they could see. They looked at the number on the phone. Then to the one on the crumpled piece of paper.

"You have to be shitting me." They tossed the styrofoam back into the seat. The plastic fork falled to the ground. It was the tow company.

The bastards. Couldn't have called sooner.

Fuck it. They'd walk home and tow it themselves in the morning. Before work.

Or at least they would have if it weren't for the rumbling semi heading thier way. It came to a stop next to them. Engine deep and rumbling. It was fake. They knew. Ment to imitate earth's vehicles.

Thier phone rang. An image flashed across the screen with the caller id. Optimus. He had looked all to peaceful in that field to not take a picture.

"Hey Big Guy." They chuckled.

"Y/n. Hello. Is everything alright?" Y/n snorted. Oh fucking peachy they were. First they were late for work. Got yelled at by thier boss for shit they didn't do. Had thier piece of shit phone stolen so they had to go fucking find it. Paid sixty bucks to get it back. Had some dickhead think they didn't know shit about vehicles so they tried to scam them.

And the list goes on.

They looked over at the semi as they spoke.

"I'm fine Prime." Optimus rocked on his wheels.

"Are you sure? I was unaware one could drive with a blown tire." Y/n scoffed. Brows shooting upwards with disbelief.

"You sarcastic-" They cut themselves off. "You here to make fun of me?" The truck rumbled.

"No. I'm here offer help." He paused. "You have been here for over six hours." How. Oh ya. Patrol. They forgot he frequently came through here to and from base.

"I. Ya. I could use the help." They hated admitting that. That they needed help. They knew they could manage and y/n always felt like they owed the person back.

Optimus pulled in front of their chevy. An unspoken "I'll tow you" hung in the air. He would. Optimus knew they would come back shortly to get their truck back. Might as well help so they don't try to do it in the dark.

They were shivering and slightly soaked when they finally got in the driver's seat. Optimus wordlessly turns the heater on. Angling the vents to point at them.

"Sorry for tracking water in." Y/n muttered. Doing their best to wipe off any excess water that got inside.

"There's no need for apologies." The semi pulled away from the side of the road and began to drive. Slightly clicking gears as he rumbles downwards. Rain splattered across the windshield. Wipers working overtime to keep it away. They new it was more for them than him.

His headlights were dim, they noticed. Barley lighting up the old gray road.

It was silent. Comfortable.

It was dark now. Even more so without the full moon. Heavy cloads still cloaking the sky.

"Are the kids home?" Y/n broke the silence.

"Yes. I had to drop Rafael off at home." That's right. Bumblebee has been busy on a scouting mission. He's supposed to be back tomorrow. Short. By cybertronian standards.

It's been almost a month for us.

There's was flashing in the distance. Orange hues erie in the heavy rain. They can make out more shapes the closer they get. A red blob turning into a car. Two small blurs turned out to be a couple.

Optimus stops next to them at their urging.

Y/n hope out immediately. The rain quickly soaking through their thin shirt.

"What seems to be the matter?" Y/n asks. A woman turns around. Hand on her obviously pregnant belly. "Well shit." They mutter.

"Our tire blew out on the way to Jasper." The woman brushes a few strands of soaked hair out of her face. "Me and my son can't seem to get the tire changed. We umm." They look over at their kid. Some tiny teen trying to pull the bolts off the best they could. The car wast quite high enough off the ground either.

"Do you want help?" They already began rolling their soaked sleeves up thier arm. A simple tattoo wove from thier wrist up to thier elbow. A memento from a close friend. The woman nodded vigorously.

"Yes please." Y/n points the woman towards Optimus. They hope he wouldn't mind.

"Please Ma'am. I don't want you catching cold." Her cheeks flush. "The kid can help if they want. But they can get out of the rain if they want." The kid grins at them, missing one or two front teeth.

"I can help!" Y/n chuckles and pulls the tire iron gently from thier hands.

"Well then. Let's get going." They popped the bolts off one by one. They themselves straining despite the fact that could easily toss tires like these around. Y/n lifted weights to get stronger and boxed to defend themselves. Thier muscles flexing beneath thier shirt a testament to that.

"God. Who stuck these fu-friggen things on." The kid laughed.

"My cousin." Well damn.

It took a few moments and a bashed finger later to change the tire. Y/n was thoroughly soaked by the time they finished. Practically drowning from the rain.

They helped the women down and out from Optimus. Both of them none the wiser to the alien next to them.

The two got into the car and drove off. Y/n watches as the car gets smaller and smaller until the rain completely obscures thier view.

They grab into the handle next to Optimus's door and hoists themselves up. Smacking thier boots to get off any mud or debris before getting inside.

"Well now I'm even more wet." Y/n snorts and peels thier shirt off. They had a tank top underneath. It sticks to thier skin uncomfortably.

Optimus hums. The deep sound rumbling in the cab. Y/n pats thier pockets fully intending to light another cigarette before remembering where they're at. More precisely, who, they are with.

Instead they pull out a stick of gum. The minty flavor almost overpowering.

Optimus hums again. A sign they've come to find, was of him thinking. A habit he never broke of even after becoming Optimus Prime. Perks of being his charge they guessed.

They never knew why he did that. Became thier guardian. Y/n was well enough an adult. Had a house, payed the bills. They never understood and didn't plan on it anytime soon. Optimus was Optimus and he does what he does. He was one of the few people they never second guess thier opinion.

They held a lot of respect for the old mech.

More so than a lot of people in thier life. They wondered if he knew that. He could tell them to leap off a cliff and they would. Trusting him to be there to catch them.

It took a lot to earn that trust. And they had given it to him. With shaking palms and to high walls.

'Here'. Their actions said. 'Here is the key. Open the door and you hurt me. Guard it. Please. Because I am unable to anymore.'

And Optimus did. Because Optimus is Optimus. A being to good for this world.

Y/n had a scar that reached from thier shoulder to the small of thier back. It would have killed them if Optimus didn't step in. They got the relic. Optimus got thier trust and friendship.

"You do that often." Y/n head jerks up from where it had been resting against the window. Startled from thier thought.

"Do what, Prime?" Optimus slowed down. Rolling to a general stop at the battered stop sign.

"Help others without question. Despite it often being inconvenient for you." Y/n pops thier gum. Thinking.

They never really thought about it. They just did what felt right.

"And?" They scratch at thier neck.

"Why?" A simple one word question. Might as well been a loaded gun. They knew exactly where he was taking this.

"Because I can. Because it's the right thing to do. Because I'd want someone to do it for my friends and family." Optimus rumbled his engine. Pulling off to the side of the road.

Son of a bitch. He's gonna make them do feelings now?

Last time it was from a simple, yet self deprecating joke. Last thing they will joke about around him again was being dumber than a box of rocks. Who knew the old guy could be so silently, and heavily caring without a single word.

"And what about you? Would you not like help as well?"

The rain lessened to a drizzle now. No way we're they gonna do this shit. Not again. Don't make them face things yet.

Y/n reaches to open the door.

Optimus locks it shut.

"Fucken hell man." They mutter. Not for the last time they began wishing for an actual cigarette.

"Hmm." They sunk down in the driver's seat uselessly pushing at the gas pedal urging for him to go on.

"You can ask. You do know this." Y/n chuckles.

"I did." They wave thier hand at the steering wheel. "I called the tow company. Not my fault they didn't call me till forever later." Optimus sinks down on his tires. If they don't wrap this up now and tell him what he wants to here they'll be here forever.

But he can tell when they're lying.

They both loath and like it.

They can be truthful to him. But sometimes it hurts. Because he makes them feel. He makes them know.

They're people to. And they deserve so much more that they give themselves.

Deserve more than the punishing pace they put themselves through.

"And no one else? What would you have done after?" Y/n shrugged thier shoulders.

"Walked home and make tomorrow me deal with it. They're a bitch in the morning but they get shit done."

Shit.

"And you would call no one? Again?" They shake their head.

"It's just a tow Optimus. Not me bleeding the fuck out." They feel bad. A sour taste in thier mouth as they bite their answer out.

"You where feverish and unable to walk last time." His voice was low. Almost sad. He was upset without showing it.

He cares. Cares so much.

He cares enough about me for the both of us.

"It's fine."

"No."

"I.." I shiver. The heater turns on. "Lying 'spose to be easy. Why do you make it so fucking hard." Optimus rumbles.

"Because you care." He's right.

"And so do I. I am here. Always. No matter what. No matter how trivial you think it is Y/n. I am here. And, as you like to say, I am stuck to your side whether you like it or not." He begins to drive. His words stick to me.

"I know. It's hard." Its hard when you don't think you deserve it. Any of it.

I lay my hand on the center of the steering wheel.

"I know. I know. But I will tell you again and again. Until you truly believe it y/n."

I was lost before him.

God's I hate that he makes me feel. Feel more than I ever have. But he got me to quite one bad habit. And he's working on the other.

#maccadam #transformers #tfp optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #tfp optimus x reader #transformers fanfiction #transformers prime

235 notes · View notes

feral--bog--witch · 4 years ago

Text

I don't know if anyone of my mutuals are from Texas but here is a really good list of winter survival tips from a lady who lives where it gets to be -40C (up to -55C sometimes).

Layer your clothes.

Start with leggings or skin tight pants, then put sweats or another fuzzy type pant over top of that. Put on a tank top, then a t-shirt, then a sweater, then a coat. Same with socks. Layer your socks as well. HOWEVER do not put so much on that you start sweating. If you start sweating you MUST remove a layer to where you are warm but NOT hot. If you get cold while you are sweating, it negates all your layers and you WILL get cold faster.

For going outside without winter gear.

Do the layering and if you have wind pants or a wind jacket (waterproof outer shells can work too), put that over top of your clothes. Its not rated for cold weather but it will keep the wind from cutting through you which is a big thing that can affect your core body temperature. The wind will be freezing and it won't take you long to get freezing as well if it can cut through your clothes.

For your feet, water proof foot wear but NOT rubber boots. Those will make your feet freeze.

And for gloves, if you don't have any, you can make some quick ones out of socks but you MUST put them on BEFORE you go outside otherwise it negates the reason for them. They KEEP you warm, not MAKE you warm.

Also remember leggings can be doubled as a scarf and you can and will lose heat through your head so wrap it up or wear a hood.

What to do if you think you have frostbite.

You can tell if you are frost bitten due to the fact your skin will kind of go numb and you can no longer feel it. The worse it is, the more you can't feel. Now to warm that area back up once you are safe inside DO NOT USE HOT WATER! This is imperative. You WILL cause second or third degree burns because you can't tell how hot it is. Start with tepid water and rub the area vigorously while you run water over it or hold it under the water. Increase the temperature slowly over time. Another point. This WILL hurt. It will hurt A LOT but you need to keep going. It hurts because your nerves are thawing out and you are regaining circulation. This is normal and GOOD. If it hurts you know the area is slowly thawing out.

If you don't have access to water, rub the affected area a lot, massage it and work the skin and muscle. The friction will slowly thaw it out through heat and you will need to keep doing it to ensure it thaws out completely. Once again this will hurt but you need to push through it to ensure you retain functionality of that area be it your hands or feet or fingers or toes.

What do do to prep your house for freezing temps.

First thing you need to do, especially because in the south your houses are not built for freezing temps is to drip your taps. All the taps in your house should be dripping hot and cold water. This will prevent your pipes from freezing.

Also open your cupboards under your sink to help prevent the pipes from freezing. If you are concerned about it still freezing you can use cardboard to wrap them, it's not the greatest for insulation as it's not built specifically for it but it will work in a pinch to keep your pipes from freezing. You can also wrap some cotton batting around them BEFORE you do the cardboard to insulate even better.

Then we move onto draft proofing your home. If your house is drafty it will get cold VERY quickly, especially when you have freezing wind blowing. So for your windows, hang dark blankets up to cover the windows, this will help prevent drafts and the darker colour will absorb heat that will be help keep your house a touch warmer.

For your doors, roll up towels and put them at the bottom of your doors to help stop drafts from coming in or out. If you are leaking around the edges, if you have it, staple double over plastic to over hang the door to isolate the draft to the door itself. If you don't, hang a blanket to cover the door completely. This will block the draft and keep the cold from coming in and the heat from escaping.

What do do if your power goes out.

First thing you are going to do is bring everyone into a single room, if you can centralize the room to be in the middle of the house, that's even better as the cold will take much longer to reach it. As you do that, close all the door you can and then you are going to amp up your space to help retain heat. So you are going to cover the door with a blanket and you are going to bring as many blankets as possible into that space.

You are going to stay there with everyone and eat and sleep in this room TOGETHER. Your body heat will keep the room warm and if you insulate it properly it will retain that heat. If you notice a wall is super cold, hang a blanket up on it, if you notice a draft, stuff it with a towel or hang a blanket up on it.

You want the room to be as insulated as possible. And yes I include pets with this so bring in their food and water dish and if it's a cat bring in toys and their litter box.

For light, use flashlights or camping lights. If you have kerosene lamps use those, but generally use candles. Make sure they are high off the ground, not where they can tip over, and make sure they have a plate or a tray underneath then so that if they DO tip you won't catch anything on fire or get wax every where. Remember that crayons can be used as candles, and if you shove a candle in a can of Crisco that shit will burn for like six days straight. Also if you have an orange, cut it in half, take the pulp out, pour in a little cooking oil into the half a peel (make sure the flash point of the oil is high so it doesn't catch fire), and then stick a small candle in the middle, this will give you a large amount of burn time for a small candle.

For heat. There are several methods you can use to heat up a space, one is you take a tiny can, put a toll of toilet paper inside of it, then you dump isopropyl alcohol (min 70%) over the roll until it's soaked, and then light it on fire. This will provide both light and heat for several hours.

If you want to double that heat, take a terra cotta pot or a metal pot and have it slightly over top of the can. NOT covering the fire but resting slight over top of it so the rim of the terracotta pot or the metal pot it level with the edge of the candle. If you have several of those, you will heat the space rather quickly.

If you have a woodburning stove or a fireplace, then use that! Just make sure you have your chimney unobstructed donut draws properly and for all burning types of heat ALWAYS HAVE A CARBON MONOXIDE ALARM. If you DON'T then make sure your space is ventilated.

Also never fall asleep while the fire is going. So candles, your little flame heaters, ect.

Keeping yourself warm at night.

The absolute BEST blankets to use to wrap up in are sleeping bags. Use them on-top of all your other blankets and they will keep your heat in so much better than anything else. They are specifically designed for colder weather and keeping you warm.

Keep your feet warm. The best and easiest solution to this is to make a 'bed rock'. Back in the old times people used to warm up rocks and stones and stick them at the end of their bed underneath their covers to keep them warm. We can mimic that by using hot packs, so those little plastic bean filled baggies that you warm up in the microwave. Pop those into the microwave for two minutes and stick them at your feet under your blankets and you will have warm feet for up to three or four hours.

If you don't have a heat pack, that's fine! You can make one with a sock, rice, and a hair elastic. Fill your sock with rice, tie it closed with the elastic and there you go! Homemade heat pack (I actually made one this winter when our power went off. It makes a WORLD of difference.)

If you are stuck outside in the freezing cold (and can't get into a shelter).

Layer your clothes and if you are still cold, crumple up newspaper and stick it between the layers. This will act as a insulator to keep your body heat in. You need to stay warm. It's easier to stay warm than it is to warm up.

Try and get access to a tent and a sleeping bag will increase your chances of staying warm. You need shelter and a tent with a sleeping bag is the best way to do that. If you have shelter you can survive but if it's snowing do NOT let snow accumulate on your tent. This can block air flow and can cause your tent to collapse.

Sleep on something that protects you from the ground. Even if you have to layer cardboard to keep the cold away from you, do so.

If you have no shelter, you can make one using cardboard boxes. Find a large box if you can, then a smaller one that fits inside of it but still fits you. Once you have them, find a place that is sheltered from the wind and then place your boxes so that the opening it towards the shelter and then shove crumpled newspaper in the space between the boxes to provide insulation and while it's not pretty, it will work in a pinch. If you want too insulate it more, put plastic over the boxes and then pile snow on the sides and a thin layer on the top. This will insulate your shelter as snow acts as a great insulator.

Buddy up. The more people you find the more heat you can generate. Never be alone out in the cold. It's easier to fall asleep when you shouldn't and you won't have someone else there who can help you if you need it. Have at least someone else with you if you can manage it.

Never go to sleep cold! If you are warm you can stay warm but you can't warm up if you are cold. Doing jumping jacks, rub your legs and arms, do whatever it takes to get warm before you go to sleep.

If it's super cold out, keep moving and find public spaces that are open to get out of the cold. Sometimes it is too cold for you to stop and sleep. You might want too but you can and will die if you do. The cold will kill you quickly and it is better to keep moving to keep yourself safe and awake. If you can find open public buildings, like 24 hour laundry mats or libraries or other buildings like that. Go in to get warm as best as you can and if you can sleep there, do so but you cannot sleep outside if it's too cold.

Stay safe.

This is the biggest piece of advice I can give you. This cold snap is horrible for people who have never experienced it before so stay safe and stay warm. Im worried for you, I'm used to this, you aren't. I love you all and stay safe!

#texas snow storm #texas #survival #survival tips #please boost #please interact #cold weather survival #tips and tricks #texas is frozen #get this to where the people who need it can see it!#stay safe #stay warm

118 notes · View notes

angloie · 4 years ago

Text

Charms.

(1/?)

> Percy likes to deceive. Lie, manipulate, more lies; it was a part of his job, after all. Annabeth has been deceived. Lied to. Manipulated. She's an woman of many secrets- secrets she'd rather not let anyone know.

> Assassin! Percy x CEO! Annabeth.

> Warnings: Mostly angst + fluff, character death and some violence. Nothing too explicit. Mentions of blood/mild injuries as well as alcohol. (characters are aged up!)

pt. 2 || pt. 3 || pt. 4 || pt. 5

Percy's thumb rule was never do anything he didn't want.

To live a happy and healthy life, that was completely normal; especially for such a laid back guy like him.

Choosing this... rather wild career was something he wanted to do, willingly. Life was short, so why not make the most of it? It was getting awfully bleak with the normal civilian life. After all, no one would believe the nice young man who helped the old man carry the groceries to his car would be someone who killed for a living. A smile so bright that it could give the sun a run for its money and warm sea green eyes could hide so much more than just innocence.

The ceiling to floor windows of his penthouse showed a breathtaking view of the New York skyline, sun moving behind the tall buildings and moon replacing the orange hue. Being an assassin had its perks- despite endangering his life on multiple occasions. The pay was just out of this world. All that cash just to kill off some sleazy politician, or that one corrupt buisness man? Sign him up. Zero hesitation.

Percy frowned at the dried blood on his once pure white gloves. He was quick to peel them off. He shuddered at the unsightly view of a small stain of blood on his onyx-colored suit.

He would just buy a new one later. Small things like that didn't matter. Sure, that might've been a gift from one of his clients, but it wasn't anything he couldn't replace.

Hanging his coat on the rack beside the wide entrance, he sighed with clear tiredness. One night of forced politeness and smiles took a toll on him- Also due to the fact that he had just done his job as an assassin. It wasn't what you could call easy.

His muscles were aching and sore in all the worst places, every move throbbing with full pain. The shallow slash on his lower abdomen had soaked his shirt in a dark crimson red, most likely going to leave a bad stain. He would have to clean that later.

The penthouse was big and rather spacious. White Walls and abstract paintings lined them, reflecting off the almost pristine marble floors. It took a while for Percy to get settled in, it being a huge place and all that. But he soon made it feel like home with the help of old picture frames that held memories and the Nemo stuffed animals resting on the leather couch.

“WOOF!”

And Mrs. O'leary.

Mrs.O’leary- a huge, slobbering dog with thick black fur- bounded towards him in a frenzied greeting. She hopped up on her hind legs to lick his face, tail wagging at a unmatched speed. She barked again, this time more quieter.

“Yeah, yeah. It's nice to see you too.” Percy laughed as he tried to pull away. Once he went to the kitchen to grab a bone-shaped treat. “Who’s a good girl?” He cooed, tossing the snack in the air. Mrs.O’leary jumped up to snatch it before barking and padding away. Her tail still wagged with elation.

When Percy first moved here, it was quite nerve-racking. He'd heard that this place was an especially good spot for people like him- meaning people who did some illegal activity. Well, that was what he assumed. Percy was 99% sure that his neighbor just in the penthouse below him, (Leo was it?) had to be involved in some sketchy stuff. That creepy smile of his with a mysterious staining his shirt never meant any good. Or maybe when his other neighbor, had a odd looking duffel bag slung across his shoulder. Oddly human shaped, maybe. With a horrible smell of something rotting. Percy recalled introducing himself a Nico DiAngelo. A pretty reserved and quiet guy, usually having a frown of his face. Well, other than that time when he had his boyfriend over, a sunshiney guy with sun-kissed hair. He never got the chance to catch his name.

Wrapping a white cloth around his wound, Percy's met with a sense of familiarity. Fixing his own injuries by himself. It would bee nice to have some help once in a while, but that would mean exposing him. He's definitely not ready to risk that.

Other than his boss and a couple of really close friends, no one knows about this. Percy nearly slipped up once- when a old companion from high school came over to visit, and his small arsenal of weapons were revealed. The little compartment hidden behind a painting. Not another word wasmsaid about it. Percy made up some half-assed excuse about auditioning for a movie so they were fakes.

It didn't take much of a expert, but the were far from fakes.

His phone rang from beside Percy, making him jolt in surprise. The contact name made him smile just the tiniest bit.

"Hey, mom," Percy began. "Why'd you call?"

"Can't your mom check up on you once in a while? How are you?" Sally beamed, cheerful voice on speaker mode.

He walked over to the bathroom where he stood in the full length mirror. A hint of blood seeped through the white bandage; now full wrapped. "Good. How's Paul and Estelle doing?" He asked.

"They're doing great! Me and your step dad went out with Estelle yesterday to see the movies." Sally smiled. "Estelle is growing into such a energetic ball of energy." She joked. "Just like you."

"Is that so?" Percy laughed, splashing his face with water. It felt cool on his skin, causing tiny pricks of coldness to pop up all over.

For a while, him and Sally conversed. She told him about her day (mostly gushing about Paul and Estelle) while Percy smiled and listened. He did his best to hide the fact that he'd been fixing up his wounds in silence. He cursed silently in pain when he touched an sensitive spot on the slash.

"Percy? Are you alright?" Sally asked in concern.

"Yeah! I just... hit my elbow. Its nothing. " He hastily replied.

"Okay," Sally exclaimed in relief. "By the way, when are you going to visit your old woman? Estelle misses you, you know."

"Yeah, well tell her I miss her too." A sense of gloom over took the conversation. "Look, I'm busy now but..." Percy looked over to the mirror again. "I'll call you later. Maybe I can visit you guys over there soon." He exhaled.

"We're looking forward to it! Isn't that right, Estelle?" Sally gave the phone to the little girl who was jumping with excitement.

"Come over soon Perce!" She garbled. It sounded like she was eating something halfway.

"I will. Talk to you later, 'Kay?"

"'Kay!"

A wave of guilt overwashed Percy as soon as he ended the call. It was killing him inside, to not be honest with them about his real job. They just thought he was a simple marine biologist who got one hell of a promotion. Yeah, he wished. That seemed easier than killing for a living. He was going to tell them sooner or later. He just had to. Not today- not anytime soon, that is.

Jolting himself out of his thoughts, Percy's phone rang. He was quick to answer it. Was it Sally calling again? Percy put down the metal spoon he was holding, letting it rest in the pot of soup bubbling on the flat stove.

“Hey, Percy!” The horribly familiar voice rang from the other side of the line. Percy grimaced.

“What is it?” He groaned.

“Is that any way to talk to your boss?” He tsked. “But I have news for you!”

“Do tell,” Percy muttered and went back to his soup.

“I have a mission.” Apollo grinned widely. “You up for it?”

“Again? Didn't I just do one yesterday?” Percy rolled his eyes. He was tired; completely tired. Usually the missions weren't this close together- sometimes they could be even months apart.

“Yeah, but this one won't happen for a week or so. And it ain't just the typical mission.”

“Yeah? And what's that?”

“Its a info operation. Meaning-”

“I know what that means!” Percy interjected. “Just tell me the details already. I’m hungry.”

“Jeez, okay mr. grump. Annabeth Chase. You know her?” Apollo said, scoffing at Percy's tone.

“You mean the owner of that one architecture company? What about her?” He asked.

“She’s connected with Thalia Grace and Luke Castellan.” Appolo explained. “Apparently people have been talking about their new heist that they're planning. By what I've heard, it's going to be huge.”

Those three names- Thalia Grace, Luke Castellan, Annabeth Chase. Annabeth especially, was the most well known in the regular world. Her being the stoic founder of Athchase as well as being a crazy rich and famous person, that's a no brainer. Luke and Thalia, on the other hand, their heists were well known anywhere. Annabeth didn't have a criminal record of any sorts. That's a big reason she can keep up her reputation. It's not like the woman did anything wrong, its just that... the fact that she is connected with the two is enough to ensure suspicion. Growing rumors of her planning some of their crimes were spreading fast. Percy's heard of things like that, her being the mastermind of killing and stealing.

“Alright," He nodded. "Im interested. Go on."

“New York. That's where the three plan to meet up. Get information, maybe use your charms into getting her to trust you."

"N-new york..!?" Percy was left shocked at that.

"I've booked a flight there. 5 in the morning sharp tomorrow. I reccomend you arrive on time." Apollo chuckled.

"Yeah, whatever."

"And Percy?" He called out.

"Hm?"

"You have my full permission to kill Annabeth when you're done." Apollo darkly said, hanging up without another word. Percy rolled his eyes for the tenth time on the call.

Well, all right.

Next destination: New York.

"So, New York, huh." Annabeth swirled some of her cocktail in the glass, circling her wrist in a rotation. The blue liquid swirled together in a repetitive motion. Sapphire Martini tasted rather bitter on her tounge, but decent nonetheless. She enjoyed the slight orange twist.

"Why here of all places?" She asked.

"Its a golden opportunity, dear Annie. The Olympians only gather once in a blue moon, so we're going to make the most out of this!" Thalia sipped from her own glass, some regular red wine. She'd never had such a taste for 'Those fancy rich drinks'. Whatever that meant.

The Olympians, as Thalia said before, were a group of 12 of some of the wealthiest and prestigious people from across the world. Only a few select people could be a part- it was exclusive as to anybody who was just normal as a couple million rich. New York would be holding a auction quite soon on a famous opera house; and surprise, they would be there.

"Don't call me that." Annabeth winced at the name. "And who exactly is we?"

"Don't go all acting like you didn't agree, alright? Plus, you can gain a thing or two from all this." She grinned.

"I have a company to run, Thals, You know very well that I dropped that type of business years ago." Annabeth shook her head. "This is seriously risky."

"But you love that. Don't you?" Thalia pressed, standing up.

She truly did. The thrill, the rush of energy you couldn't get anywhere else. Thats what had driven her to join Thalia and Luke in the first place. That feeling alone made her eyes sparkle with desire.

"Yeah." Annabeth places her drinkdown back on the glass table. "I do."

Okay I'm back with some more hot garbage!!! here's my latest thing-- a assassin au. I need to do a ship other than percabeth tho 😔😔

#percabeth fanfic #percabeth oneshot #percy x annabeth #percabeth #percy jackson #percy and annabeth #pjo oneshot #annabeth pjo #pjo fluff #percabeth angst #percabeth fluff #annabeth chase #pjo thalia #thalia grace #jason grace #grover underwood #percy and grover

33 notes · View notes

perles-infinite-fictional-love · 3 years ago

Text

A very strange child (2)

In this second part, the unnamed woman returns to the junk yard, hoping to better befriend the strange small person they found, “Mono”, unaware the boy comes from a nightmarish world.

< 1 3 >

I called in sick to work today. I had more important things to do.

I spent the night thinking about Mono. The thought that it was a human child and not some kind of cryptid was crushing my heart like someone was sitting on my chest. Why was he all alone out there?

Unable to sleep, I decided to look through my pantry for anything I could give away, and put everything in a backpack. Hopefully he’d like one of these things.

Finally, as soon as the sun started to rise, I traveled back to the junk yard. Leaving my car out of sight, I climbed over the fence with the bag on my back, and returned to the spot I last saw the tiny person with a paper bag over their head.

“Mono?.... Mono?” I called out softly, trying to keep the same calm voice I used yesterday, hoping it could help my case if he recognized me.

I wandered around occasionally calling his name for a while though, without seeing, nor hearing anything...

I sighed. I should have known it wasn’t gonna be that easy. Either he didn’t trust me enough to show himself again, or he wasn’t even here anymore... I sat down and opened the bag. I deserved something to eat away the stress and disappointment. After I started chewing on some chips, I heard a little something to my left. A small stepping noise.

There he was. Standing on a busted washing machine, surprisingly closer than the last time we looked at each other.

“Oh hi, Mono!...” I said, trying to hide my excitement. It was the same kind of excitement as seeing a wild fawn approach you...

He hesitated for just a second, and raised his hand to give me a shy wave.

As exciting as a baby deer can be, a baby deer could never wave back like this. I was so happy to see him make some kind of effort to communicate with me.

“Are you hungry, Mono?” I asked, holding up the bag of chips and waving it a little.

His paper bag head perked up! He took a tiny step closer, glancing at my backpack.

From that, I pulled out an orange from the bag, and started peeling it in front of him. He seemed very interested by this. I then ate a quarter and held the rest towards him, stretching out my arm in his direction.

“You can have some! It’s okay.”

I heard him blow air out of his nose as he straightened from my gesture. He looked very interested, yet hesitant. He stared at me for a bit, as if to make sure I was not getting up, and suddenly climbed down the washing machine. Once he was on the ground however, he froze there, watching me. He was about 10 feet away from me...

To make it easier for him, I placed the peeled orange on my backpack, and slowly pushed it towards him before scooting back a little.

He tilted his head, but not looking at the food... He was looking at me. As if surprised by my behavior. Fair enough, he didn’t look like he was used to people being generous to him. Maybe I was a discovery to him as much as he was to me.

He took a few steps forward, then stopped, then a few more steps, and stopped again. Over and over... Each time scanning me to see to make sure I was staying where I was, evaluating the risks...

“It’s okay, Mono.”

He flinched, but didn’t run away. Just a startle...

When he finally reached the food, he slowly crouched down to pick up the orange as he stared at me... then ran away!! Only to stop about 8 feet away from me.

For a moment, I thought he was going to run out of my sight... I was genuinely surprised he chose to stay on the ground where I could see him.

He sat down on his chosen spot, and for the first time lifted his paper bag... just enough to uncover his mouth. Not a goblin mouth... (Not that I’ve ever seen a goblin) This boy was either an elf, or just a very strange child...

He started to eat, and seemed taken off guard by the flavor. He froze, and ate slowly for a bit, looking at the orange... then started eating rapidly! Occasionally pulling down his paper bag to glance at me through his eye holes. He really had to care about that paper bag, to insist on wearing it even when it might be an inconvenience...

I continued eating from the chip bag, figuring out he’d be less nervous if I seemed busy with something else.

“...Mono, do you understand what I’m saying?” I asked. Even though I saw him nod to me a few times, he never reacted much to the things I say. I really wanted to make sure.

He paused eating to look at me, then stare off into space. I was about to assume he ignored my words again, before he gave me a small hesitant nod, to my delight.

Whatever he was, he seemed very used to this feral lifestyle. Maybe he just understood some of the things I said... Or he was so used to staying silent for his own good, talking felt like a dangerous thing to do...

I decided to let him eat, while I stayed deep in thoughts. I couldn’t just leave this kid-thing in a junk yard... I had to do something, but how? I could barely get through to him...

I watched him finish the orange, then look in my direction as he wrapped his arms around his knees... Just calmly sitting and watching me attentively. It was still such a relief to see him becoming more comfortable around me.

“...Well, you liked it?”

He nodded with very little hesitation.

“Good to hear, buddy... You don’t have much to eat in this place, do you?...”

“...” He shook his head.

“...Would you like me to come here more often?”

He stared at me for a moment, then avoided eye contact to give a small, hesitant, shy nod.

Watching him, I lowered myself a little bit. “You don’t have to worry, Mono. I’d like to be... your friend. Do you understand?”

He silently stared with a slight tilt of his head. It was a bit tense. I knew he knew what I said, he just wasn’t sure he could trust me... He looked at the ground.

All of a sudden, he got up. He took a step back, and gestured me to follow him.

My jaw nearly dropped in awe. He wanted to show something, to me?? What could he possibly want to share with me? I carefully got up, and watched him hurry away from me, but not fast enough to lose me. No... He kept a quick but careful pace, often checking behind to make sure I was still following.

I was holding my breath anxiously.

Where were we going?

#little nightmares 2 #mono #fanfiction #little nightmares fanfic #tropes of found family and family fluff #he wants a friend...

6 notes · View notes

once-upon-a-pirate-ship · 4 years ago

Text

How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam 2/?

Story summary: Princess Emma isn't the princess of much anymore. It's been months since her parents and brother were taken, and she's been on the run with her godmother Red. When Emma and Red board a merchant vessel to sail to Arendelle, Emma quickly finds that the captain is not to be trusted. After helping two slave brothers, Emma takes over the ship and begins her journey to save and rebuild her kingdom.

Read it on AO3 | or start at the beginning

Chapter 1 on Tumblr

Chapter 2: Trick of the Knife

word count: ~6k

Panic was a curious thing.

Emma liked to think that she was a rational person, that the years of guidance from her parents had taught her to keep her emotions in check. Sure, they’d told her to trust herself and her instincts, but being an effective ruler meant not getting carried away by intense feelings that had no bearing in reality.

Needless to say, it was frustrating for her to wake in the morning with a jolt of panic, for her mind to race the second consciousness gripped her, for her eyes to search frantically around the captain’s quarters for whatever it was she was missing. Because the clawing of fear in her stomach couldn’t have been her imagination.

Except it was.

Her sword was propped against her bunk just inches from her hand, her boots knocked over haphazardly where she’d kicked them off the night before. Everything else was exactly as it had been when she’d entered the cabin hours ago.

Emma fell back onto the bed, dropping her elbows from where they’d held her up in her attempt to locate some imaginary danger. She huffed, blinking up at the ceiling and trying to breathe deeply. It was a familiar process for her, convincing her mind and her body that she was safe for the moment; her anxiety was nothing more than the product of her current circumstances, of months on the run and the weight of the world crushing her bones.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bunk, closing her eyes to feel the gentle sway of the ship. She’d been pleasantly surprised to find that the sea calmed her—relieved that something could—because she hadn’t been sailing in years and another obstacle, no matter how trivial, might’ve been too much for her.

Emma had just managed to get her breathing under control when a knock came to the cabin door. She grabbed the sword on instinct before she went to open it.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” Liam Jones said, a large tray balancing in his hands, “but I thought you might wish to break your fast.”

“As much as I appreciate the thought, I don’t expect you to bring me meals on a silver platter—or any platter, actually,” she replied, frowning as she examined the offering. “You’re not a servant or a cabin boy, Liam.”

He ducked his head, a habit he shared with his brother. “Aye, however, I simply wished to see to it myself that you were well fed,” he paused, waiting for her to let him in. When she simply narrowed her eyes at him, he added, “I know you reject gratitude, Emma, but I think getting my brother to sleep this long and break his stubborn streak warrants a proper thank you. It’s a feat, honestly.”

She sighed, stepping back to allow him entrance. “Okay, just don’t make a habit of it.” She watched him set it on the table, her lips pushing into a tight line. “You’ve brought me too much,” she admonished. “Would you care to join me?”

Liam shifted his feet, moving half a step back and away from her. “I—I couldn’t, besides, I’ve had my ration already this morning.”

“And I suppose you never give any of yours to your brother to ensure that he’s well taken care of,” she shot back, raising a knowing eyebrow. It’s what she’d do, if Leo were there. “Sit, eat, tell me how we’re faring today,” she encouraged as she took the closest chair and leaned her sword against it, and there was only a slight edge of a command in her tone.

Liam didn’t move right away, looking at her as if he were gauging whether or not he could win this one. After a moment, he relented, dropping into the place opposite her. “Eating with a princess,” he muttered, forcing his hand to take a piece of bread only after she’d taken some of the fruit for herself.

“Would it make you feel any better if I told you that my mother was a bandit and my father was a shepherd?”

His head shot up, and he nearly dropped the chunk of bread he’d been holding. “Pardon?”

Emma smiled, and for a moment she could almost hear her parents as they told her the story. One of their favorites, actually, and no matter how old she was, she never tired of it. It was something she repeated in her head over and over again lately, a grasping attempt at comfort when things got particularly difficult.

“When my mother was on the run from the Evil Queen, she became a bandit to survive. She taught me everything she knows about tracking, archery, all of it.” Emma couldn’t help the smile that pulled up the corners of her lips at this, the fighter her mother was beneath it all.

Liam took a moment to process that bit of information, making himself eat a little more of the bread under her firm gaze. “Are you trying to convince me that you’re not a typical princess?”

Emma chuckled, “I think I’ve already proven that.” She leaned forward, taking a roll for herself. “I’m trying to say that my parents have never liked to stand on ceremony, either. No, a meal with a sailor would hardly scandalize them.”

His mouth opened automatically but he forced it closed, and Emma could tell that he’d meant to correct her on her use of the word ‘sailor,’ but it was accurate now. She expected it to take a bit more time for them to break their habits.

“Did your father teach you to fence, or was that your mother, too?”

“My father,” she replied. “Put the first wooden sword in my tiny hands on my eighth birthday. I was tormenting the castle guards by the time I was eleven.” It’d been a long time since she’d thought about that, and the memories flashed in her mind before she could stop them.

Her laughter, bubbly and free like the child she was. Leo had been so small, his hands grasping the air as if to ask to hold her new gift. And then later, a heavier gift, one that was responsibility when she held it in her hand, promises to clean it and practice every day. The guard’s playful annoyance that steadily grew as she got more skilled, her parents’ mildly exasperated expressions that were too fond to be anything bad. Teaching her brother once he was old enough, his wide and curious eyes as he watched her and tried to mimic everything she did. All those days ended with wonderful soreness buried in her muscles that made her bed feel softer and her sleep come easier.

But those days were long gone.

Liam laughed, bringing her back to the present. “I suppose that isn’t surprising,” he said as he reached for an orange. “I’m no great swordsman myself, but Killian was quite impressed.”

The rock that had lodged itself in her gut disappeared with the mention of the younger Jones brother. “Oh?” She kept her eyes on her food, hoping that she sounded only mildly interested and not like her heart had done a flip in her chest.

“He was nearly raving about it yesterday evening,” Liam told her, fondness across every inch of his face and in every tone of his voice. “The particulars eluded me, but I’m to understand that some of your disarming techniques are incredibly impressive and difficult to master.”

Emma hummed, her expression nearly nonchalant despite the pride that took root in her stomach. Pride and something else, something she couldn’t quite name. It only took a moment for her to pick up on the odd shift in the silence.

“Is something wrong?” she asked Liam, glancing up at him across the table where he seemed to be thinking too hard.

“No, no,” he insisted, shaking his head to dissipate the haze of contemplation. “Your father was a shepherd? I thought he was a prince,” Liam said.

“That’s what you’re supposed to think,” she replied, “because King George adopted his twin brother James as his heir.”

“Isn’t your father King James?”

“His name is David, actually,” she told him. “George didn’t want people to know that James was dead. It’s not exactly something they’d announce to the realm after all that, though. It’s all a bit complicated.”

Liam nodded, and Emma was good enough at reading people to recognize the connections he was making in his mind that shone through his blue eyes. They were perhaps a bit grayer than his brother’s, and their expressions were different enough that it often seemed to her that they were different shades entirely.

“I hadn’t heard about your family,” he said quietly, his gaze flicking up to her from the orange peel he worked off. “I’m sorry.”

It was more than just their capture that he referred to, this much was obvious. Red was the only one who was privy to anything more specific, so Emma didn’t have to wonder at the source of this knowledge.

“It’s likely just a sleeping curse variation with my parents, but we’re unsure what was used on Leo. His curse is…different.” Cruel was the word she wanted to use, but that wouldn’t help anything. And it wasn’t as if the Evil Queen had laid out the exact parameters of the curse when she’d found her. But that wasn’t something Emma wanted to think about.

“How old is he?”

“Sixteen,” she replied, her lips pulling up on one side without her consent. “Seventeen in a few months, though.” She didn’t have to add that she hoped to see him before then.

Perhaps it was because Liam was an older sibling himself that the melancholy filled the air so intensely; a lost brother was hardly something they wished to discuss thoroughly. Emma’s appetite vanished as she played with the roll in her hands, unable to bring herself to eat it.

“You will save them, Emma. You will succeed,” he insisted, “and Killian and I will do whatever we can to help you along the way. You have my word.”

“Thank you, Liam,” she said. “I find myself desperately in need of allies these days, and it’s a relief to know I’ve got good men on my side.”

Liam flushed, but he carried on admirably. “And when we reach port tomorrow, we’ll replace the, um, less desirable men with trustworthy ones. A handful, at least, if I’ve got anything to say about it.”

“I appreciate that,” she replied. “Red is quite the charmer, you should bring her along.”

“Already asked her myself this morning,” he told her. “Terry’s arranged a group to oversee supplies while I accompany Lady Red in the search.”

Nearly everything had already been taken care of for her, though Emma did not feel like an inadequate captain. The title was more symbolic than anything, and her parents would have been proud at her efficient delegation of duties.

“I’ll remain behind to watch the ship.”

“Killian’s volunteered to stay, too, which should provide ample protection should anyone attempt anything foolish.”

If every mention of the younger Jones was going to torment her stomach with that flock of butterflies, Emma was going to have a difficult journey. “Alright,” she said, squashing down the fluttering feeling.

When Liam realized she’d finished, he stood quickly, as if it went against his honor to tarry when there was work to be done. “Thank you for breakfast, Captain,” he said as he reached for the tray, but her sharp gaze made him stop. “I’ll, um, just return to relieve Lady Red at the helm,” he told her.

“Perfect,” Emma replied, “I’ll be on deck shortly.”

He did not bow when he left her cabin, but there was a distinct nod of his head that felt like the equivalent of one. Emma let it slide, closing the door behind him to secure the lock so she could dress for the day without interruption.

The new trunk sat at the end of her bed, Red’s bag of belongings noticeably absent from it. She sighed as she considered how it had gotten there, knowing the answer would certainly irritate her. Emma pulled her leather satchel from the trunk, deciding that it just wasn’t practical enough to use. She considered offering it to Killian and Liam, but they’d never accept it.

Emma pulled on the dark leather pants and that blue vest that she loved too much, preparing for the day she was expecting and the one she wasn’t. This meant sliding the blades into their hiding places and tucking several things in her pockets that one may not have deemed entirely necessary, but she’d learned that having to leave abruptly was not uncommon, and she hated replacing things she’d had to leave behind. Much of her downtime was spent sewing hidden pockets into her clothes, but she never minded the monotony.

She replaced her boots, ensuring that her dagger was in its place before securing the sword against her hip. The weight was so familiar now, she felt lopsided when it wasn’t there unless she was using it. Once her hair was tied up and out of the way, she left her cabin to return the tray to the galley.

It didn’t take long for her to reach her destination, but the voices that carried from the galley made her pause around the corner, leaning against the wall as her breath held to prevent an early reveal of her location.

“She is our princess and our captain, in case you need reminding, and you will do well not to forget it again.” This was Killian; she’d recognize his lilting accent anywhere. But his tone was harsher than she’d ever heard it, hinting to his listener that there was no argument.

His words were met with dark, throaty chuckles from more than one person. “Oh, aye, that slip of a girl would make us regret it, would she? No amount of sword tricks will save her if I decide to cross blades with her,” a man replied.

“She ain’t that skilled, boy, really,” another said, sharp and teasing.

Killian simply laughed. “You must not have been watching yesterday, then. None of us have ever seen a swordsman like that and you know it,” he told them. To him, this was obvious. His praise wasn’t fluff and flattery, it was fact, and Emma was torn between considering what this meant to her and focusing on the problem at hand.

“Awe, does the little slave boy have a crush?”

“Wishing for a peek under her skirts, laddie?”

“This won’t end well for you,” a third voice said.

All pleasant thoughts vanished from Emma’s mind at their taunts and threats and use of the word slave, and her plan was formed before she even had time to think about it. Disrespecting a captain was about a step away from a mutiny attempt, and she couldn’t ignore that, nor could she ignore her desire to prove these men wrong.

When their laughter died out, Emma stepped into the galley and greeted them with a smile so sweet it was poisonous. “Good morning, gentlemen,” she said, her eyes scanning the scene.

Killian stood tall with crossed arms nearest to her, while the three men grumbled from where they were grouped by the end of the table. They shifted their feet and seemed somewhat annoyed at her appearance, but Killian was too perceptive, staring at her as he waited for whatever she had planned.

Emma took her time setting the tray on the table, pretending to adjust her vest for a moment before bringing her right boot on the bench. Her hand lingered by her laces as if to fix them, and though she was aware of the eyes on her, she did not look up until she slid the blade from her boot.

The dagger glinted even in the low light, her thumb brushing fondly along the design on the hilt. She smiled at the three men as she returned her foot to the ground.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked them, holding it out for them to see, warning dripping from her sweet tone. “It was a gift from my father, a present for my sixteenth birthday. Had the swan made special for me,” she added, smiling at the silver bird. Vicious and beautiful.

“Until a few months ago, this blade had never touched blood,” she said, her voice even, calm, unremarkable as her thumb moved to edge to metal. But in a second her grip shifted and the dagger sliced through the air in a show of speed and agility, though it might have been to test the balance or the weight. “Since then, I’ve had to do a lot of cleaning, and you know princesses—we hate to clean up after ourselves.” It didn’t matter that this wasn’t particularly true in her experience, she wished to make the point all the same.

Her lips curled up higher as she glanced between the traitorous men. “So either you can keep your heads down and work until you’re put off this ship tomorrow, or I’ll have to clean this dagger again.”

“Or there’s always the brig,” Killian added helpfully. His mouth was twisted in a smile that was half threatening and half proud of the woman before him.

“There is, isn’t there?” Emma asked, pretending to think on it. “Getting a bit crowded, though. Might be better off not facing Silver after all that has happened,” she mused, appraising the three crewmen again.

Two didn’t move, attempting to keep their expressions firm and unyielding as their chests puffed and their shoulders broadened, but the smallest—and smartest, if anyone were to ask Emma—looked between them before stepping forward.

“We’ll stay out of trouble,” he decided.

Killian and Emma turned expectantly to the others, but they did not even react at their friend’s announcement. They kept their fierce gazes on Emma, but this wasn’t anything she hadn’t planned for.

“It must be my parents’ reputation of benevolence that hasn’t convinced you,” she sighed, “but I can assure you, I do what I have to do to survive. And if you decide to get between me and a chance to save my kingdom and my family…” She didn’t need to finish, and her words thickened the air with her thinly-veiled threat.

“Come on, Evans, Blake,” the smart one told them, “don’t be fools. We can leave tomorrow.”

It was in this moment when Emma’s free hand moved behind her, edging the leather as she waited for the two men to make their move. Her movement was too gentle, too slow to draw anyone’s attention, and her body appeared relaxed and devoid of tension though she was prepared for what was to come.

It only took about thirty seconds before the fools moved, pushing past their friend and lunging towards her. But the distance was enough that time was on her side, and Killian charged the one closer to him—Blake—as the small throwing blade left her hand before Evans could even register what she was doing.

The slim knife whipped through the air with the perfect spin, and her lips almost twisted into a smile as she watched it connect with his palm, slamming dead in the center and dragging him back so it could pin him to the wooden wall he’d barely had time to step away from.

Evans cried out in shock and pain, predictable curses falling from his mouth as he stared wide-eyed at his hand, his uninjured one reaching to grab the handle, but he cursed again when it moved.

Killian had done exactly as Emma anticipated, and his opponent was knocked onto his back, the sword at his throat. But both Killian’s and Blake’s eyes were on the knife that stuck into flesh and wood.

“Bloody hell,” Killian muttered, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at Emma. “I didn’t know you could do that,” he said.

“I’m full of surprises,” she replied, sliding another blade from one of the hidden panels in the front of her vest to show him before pushing it back into place.

“And weapons, apparently,” he chuckled.

Emma grinned, returning her dagger to her boot. She preferred not to use it, honestly, but more because she didn’t want to damage it rather than a dislike of cleaning it. But with her throwing knives, this particular kind of fight was easily taken care of without even having to move from a strategic spot. She could get the higher ground—or the place with the best escape plan, in her case—and hold onto it.

Evans was still moaning in pain, though he’d begun to spout insults at her between curses. It was easy enough for her to ignore him as she approached and drew her sword, yanking the knife from his hand without hesitating or even attempting to be gentle. He groaned, crouching as he brought his wounded hand into his body to cradle it, but the hilt of her sword temporarily put him out of his misery when he toppled to the ground.

Killian took this as permission to do the same with Blake, and he was looking to her for direction as she turned to him.

“I suppose the brig will have to do,” she said.

The other crewman moved right away, hauling the man in front of her over his shoulder without waiting for her to ask. He’d already wanted to avoid conflict, and after seeing her other skills, he wasn’t eager to incur her wrath.

She stopped Killian from lifting Blake with a raise of her hand. “Don’t. I’ll get someone else to do it,” she told him. “I have to get Red anyway, she’s got the keys to the brig. Just wait here with him,” she added, hoping her tone and the intensity of her gaze would prevent him from arguing.

Their eyes locked, tension snapping between them that had nothing to do with anger or his wanting to protest. But she had no time to decipher the look, and she sheathed her sword, tucking the bloodied blade into its spot at the back of her vest.

“Good,” she said, “don’t move.”

She only had to wait a moment for his nod before she turned, heading towards the deck without stopping to analyze every word and expression she’d seen from Killian during the last few minutes.

The atmosphere on deck was lively, the fair weather and the absence of the more miserable sailors making for a pleasanter mood than she’d felt on the ship thus far. There was laughter in the air, camaraderie amongst the crew as they worked on their various duties. They were down in numbers, but even that wasn’t enough to dissolve the jovial spirit following Silver’s loss of power.

Red stood at the helm, Liam at her side likely trying to convince her to give up her post and let him work instead. But there was no animosity in their manners, only evidence of their rapidly developing friendship as Red rolled her eyes at whatever Liam said.

Emma reached them quickly, ignoring their pleasantries and turning to Red. “Killian and I ran into some trouble in the galley,” Emma said, “if you’ll kindly bring the keys, the two men can join their friends in the brig.”

“Of course,” Red replied, glancing at Liam with a raised eyebrow as something unspoken passed between them, then he replaced her when she moved to head below.

“Oh, and don’t let Killian carry the man himself, please,” Emma called. “He’ll reopen his wound.”

Red’s lips curved into a smile. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

When she was gone, Emma turned back to Liam with the intention of uncovering the root of that look they’d shared, but the elder Jones was cool and kind as he offered her a smile.

“Thank you, Captain,” he said. “You seem to be making a habit of helping my brother and myself.”

Emma waved a hand dismissively, swallowing the discomfort that followed his gratitude. In recent weeks, she’d found it difficult to acknowledge praise or recognition no matter the subject. If she had to think about it, she’d probably trace it to her inadequacy and failure in saving her kingdom, her people, or her family, so she found it much better to not think about it at all.

“It’s nothing,” she replied, glancing around the deck to study the differences in the crew, watching for the way they worked together. It was easier to think like this, to plan and strategize rather than focus on dangerous things like emotions and honor and everything else.

“It’s not,” Liam insisted.

“I’d like your help tomorrow after you and Red find new crew members,” Emma said suddenly, the change in topic not subtle at all but the request of his assistance was a carrot that dangled before him.

“Whatever you need, Captain.”

Emma, she mentally corrected. But he was probably better off using her rank on deck where the others could hear, at least until they could bring in some of their own sailors.

“I’d like for you and Killian to assist me in bringing Silver to the local authorities,” she told him, and his eyes darkened. “As far as I’m aware, these waters don’t take too kindly to slavers, either.”

Liam’s grip tightened on the helm, but he otherwise kept his expression neutral. “Killian and I would be happy to join you.”

“As I suspected you would be,” she replied. With a nod, she left him to his post, finding Terry across the deck so she could discuss their replenishment of supplies the following day. Though her captaincy was flimsy at best, she still wished to lend her aid in whatever way she could.

For the second night in a row, Emma found herself at the helm. It wasn’t nearly as late, however, the golden sky just beginning to turn to a deep blue that didn’t yet hold any stars. She watched, waiting patiently for the pinpricks of light to appear overhead.

The day had been long, filled with people needing things and asking questions and there wasn’t a moment in which she could ponder things like tense gazes or proud smiles. But perhaps gazes and smiles shouldn’t have been high on her list of priorities.

She pulled out the flask from inside her vest, unscrewing it to take a sip. Before a few months ago, Emma hadn’t cared much for rum. But now she relished in the familiar burn as it dragged down her throat and eased some of the tension in her body. She froze with the flask poised for her second sip when the ship creaked.

“I don’t suppose you’d share,” a voice called.

Emma watched as Killian approached, her eyes scanning his face for anything or everything. “As long as you’re not here to convince me to give up my shift,” she said dryly.

He chuckled, “No, love. I know that the Lady Red is set to relieve you in a few hours. I simply wanted to speak with you regarding our earlier confrontation in the galley, since we’ve had not a moment to ourselves since the whole ordeal.”

She willed her stomach to unknot itself as she passed him the flask, unable to stop herself from following his movements. His fingers nearly grazed hers when he took it, close enough that she could feel the heat from his skin. Killian’s head angled up and to the side, revealing the column of his neck as he drank.

“Good rum,” he commented, returning the flask.

She accepted it, taking another small sip before replacing the cap and returning it to her inner pocket. “Does that surprise you?” she wondered, but she couldn’t determine why she cared.

“That a princess has good rum?” he asked, his eyes meeting hers. She couldn’t see the color in the growing darkness, but she’d already spent enough time studying them to imagine the exact shade now. “I don’t know about other princesses, but it doesn’t surprise me that you have good rum, Captain.”

If she’d heard only the words, she would’ve been incapable of determining whether or not this particular statement was a compliment, but in his tone, there was no question. But he’d come on deck for a reason, and it wasn’t likely to be to issue compliments and nothing else.

“I hope you’re not here to insist that you could’ve handled things on your own in the galley today,” she said. She doubted it, especially after his expression before she’d left, but he was known to be stubborn, so it was plausible. Maybe.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied. “While perhaps I could’ve handled them myself, I’m incredibly relieved that I didn’t have to. I would’ve torn some stitches, I’m sure, and I’d hate to get on my captain’s bad side.”

Emma hummed, glancing up at the sky to check for the appearance of stars rather than looking at the ones in his gaze. “I’m glad.”

“And I was also going to tell you that you—Your Highness, Captain, Princess Emma—can be bloody terrifying when you want to be,” he told her. He was grinning when she finally looked over at him, his eyes glimmering far too much for the fading light.

“As I said, I do what I have to do to survive. And if my parents can’t get past that once I’ve saved them, I can always abdicate the throne. Leo would make a good king.” It was true, she knew, but it didn’t hurt her any less to say it. Too much blood had been spilled since that terrible day, but she couldn’t very well save the damn kingdom if she was dead, could she?

“But you would make a fantastic queen,” he said firmly. “And if I recall correctly, your parents took their throne back from the Evil Queen once before. That couldn’t have been done without some difficult choices.”

“Maybe,” she allowed. But he didn’t know her parents—very few did—and their constant insistence that violence was always a last resort and there was always a choice when it came to taking another’s life…she wasn’t sure that they would welcome her back into their family as openly as she wished.

Emma cleared her throat. “But maybe not. Either way, they trained me to be lethal. Fair, yes, but as you’ve seen, I can take a life just as easily as I could pardon one.” She could hear them now, the sword is not equal to the gavel, Emma, and when given the choice, put down your sword before ending a life.

Killian shifted, his eyes meeting hers. “I’m not sure your parents would agree with me, but I believe that there are certain people for whom pardoning isn’t possible. Saving someone who could take hundreds, possibly thousands of lives if they escape—” he paused, his lips turning down into a sharp frown. “Well, perhaps I’ve seen too much to judge fairly.”

Or perhaps her parents hadn’t seen enough to judge rationally, though Emma wasn’t about to raise the issue to them upon their rescue.

“I would’ve killed her,” Emma said, her voice strangled. Killian’s eyebrows pinched together, and she sighed. “The Evil Queen. If I had been there all those years ago, I wouldn’t have just stopped her and exiled her. I would’ve killed her. If my mother or my father had, they wouldn’t be cursed now. Leo wouldn’t be cursed now. And more than that, my kingdom wouldn’t be ransacked, and my people wouldn’t have been murdered or chased from their homes.”

Though her voice had been bitter when she spoke, the words were not rash or thoughtless. Every night that she’d been forced to remain awake for survival, she’d considered this. Wondered at her parents’ choices, weighed them against her own. She was never able to determine who was in the right, however.

“You worry that when you save them, they won’t understand,” Killian said, and it should’ve been a question, but it wasn’t. “That they’ll disagree.”

“I don’t care,” she said, and she wished it were true. If only she didn’t care, didn’t honestly believe that the look her parents would give her upon their rescue would break her beyond repair, didn’t think that their disappointment in her would be a curse in its own right.

Emma sighed, not even trying to relax her grip on the wheel. “The Evil Queen would kill my brother if she could, and that’s enough for me. If my parents hold it against me, I’ll abdicate, as I said before.” The words were rational, emotionless, but the storm of doubt and hopelessness swirled in her chest.

“You shouldn’t abdicate,” he repeated, his gaze unfaltering. “Emma the Swan Queen,” he murmured, and the way he said it was almost like a reflex, a thought that passed his lips automatically.

It made her eyebrow quirk. “Swan Queen?”

Killian ducked his head, his hand running through his dark hair. “Aye, like the dagger. Elegant and beautiful, but deadly when provoked. Fitting, don’t you think?” When his eyes locked with hers again, his lips curled into the smallest half-smile.

“I don’t hate it,” she allowed, and his smile widened. “Now I just have to save and rebuild the kingdom, and then perhaps they can call me that. Well, it’d have to be the Swan Princess first, at least.”

“You’ll do it,” he said, though his tone was more befitting of a vow. Emma wished she could bottle his belief in her, keep it and uncork it when she couldn’t believe in herself.

Her breath had snagged in her throat, but she spoke anyway. “I certainly have a better shot with you and your brother to help.”

Killian waved a hand dismissively. “You could do it without us.”

“Sure, but as you said earlier,” she replied, “although I could do it alone, I’m relieved I don’t have to.”

That tension returned from before, electricity snapping against her skin beneath Killian’s gaze. If she’d had less on her mind, she could’ve understood what it all meant, but all she knew was that it was somehow both pleasant and unnerving and she never wanted to look away.

“If we thought for a moment that you’d let us, Liam and I would pledge you our fealty in the manner befitting your title.”

This, Emma knew, was no small declaration. She’d seen soldiers lay their swords at her mother’s feet, their heads bowed as they sealed their promises to fight and die for the queen and her kingdom. It was something she’d never gotten used to, and she never would, should she one day take her mother’s place.

The depth in Killian’s eyes told her he knew exactly what he was saying, and after a moment he spoke again. “We may be mere sailors, hardly making up for your lost navy, but we’ll fight with everything we have.”

She heard the words he did not say and quickly offered her own opinion on the matter. “Mere sailors who also happen to be talented swordsmen and navigators,” she pointed out.

“Ah, a bit of luck,” Killian said. “Our captain before Silver was the best we’d had, and we sailed with him for about five years. He offered to teach us valuable skills, and we were eager to learn. Liam dedicated himself to navigation, insisting on bettering our future prospects so we could perhaps one day join the navy.”

“But you wanted to learn to fight,” she guessed. “Fight and survive.”

“Aye,” he confirmed. “But Nemo made sure we each learned some of both endeavors to manage on our own.”

There was enough in his voice and in his face for Emma to determine that the tale ended with grief. “Sounds like he was a good man,” she said.

“One of the greatest I’ve ever known.”

The silence that followed Killian’s story was not uncomfortable, and the two sat together as the stars glowed more brilliantly above them. Despite the pleasant tension that continued to buzz in the surrounding air and the sensation that curled in the pit of Emma’s stomach, she was painfully aware that some things would have to wait.

“We’ve a busy day tomorrow,” she began reluctantly, “you should rest while you can.”

“Aye,” he breathed, but he made no move to leave. His eyes did not falter from hers, either, as if he wished to prolong their moment for as long as he could. Eventually, he realized what he was doing, and Emma imagined the color that touched his cheeks and the tips of his ears in the darkness.

A smile ghosted his lips as he began to leave. “Good night, Captain Swan,” he said.

“Captain Swan?” she repeated, her brows furrowing.

He paused, meeting her gaze once more. “If you insist you’re not yet the Swan Princess, then I believe that makes you our Captain Swan.”

She considered that, studying his eyes like they held the answers she sought. “Good night, Killian,” she said after a moment.

He nodded, turning to leave her at last. She watched him until he disappeared below.

In his absence, Emma was left to ponder the man who had begun to work his way beneath her skin. If she wasn’t careful, the butterflies would become something much bigger, more than just a stuttering heartbeat and a fluttering in her stomach. But as she stood beneath the infinite stars at the helm of this ship she now led in place of a kingdom, Emma wasn’t certain that she wanted to be careful.

#How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam #ouat fanfic #captain swan #captain swan fanfic #once upon a time #chapter two #cs fanfic #ao3

9 notes · View notes

rosiewrld0211 · 5 years ago

Text

“You are my homeland.”

☪ group: Red Velvet

☪ genre: fluff!

☪ word count: 1,3k

☪ notes: i was eating breakfast when i had an epiphany about a post i saw a while ago and i can’t seem to find again; but the thing is it literally opened my eyes. enjoy!

GIF not mine. Credits to the owner.

Sunlight peeked through the curtains, blinding you for a second as you opened your eyes. You felt a familiar warmth on the other side of the bed. You couldn't prevent the corners of your lips from rising, a warm smile spread across your face. You laid down on your side so you could look at your girlfriend.

Her mouth was slightly open and her hair claimed most of the pillow. The sleeping clothes that had no wrinkles yesterday were now up to Seulgi's abdomen. Her eyes seemed to be tightly closed, yet there was no trace of discomfort in her expression.

The moment was interrupted when your stomach rumbled in protest. Resigned, you rose from your bed to open the windows before leaving the room. The air always felt thick in the morning for some reason, it was almost impossible to breathe.

A few days earlier you had moved in together. The boxes took over most of the apartment, and the kitchen was especially empty. You passed by the cats' bed to greet them, but they only purred in response. You looked for something to eat while waiting for Seulgi to wake up. Eventually, you headed for the room with an orange in your hand.

The figure of your girlfriend had moved slightly, and you could hear the whines coming out of her throat. You snickered as you sank back into bed beside her. The warm colour of the sun contrasted with the pure white of the apartment. Everything seemed extremely deserted without furniture.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Seulgi's sigh. As you turned your face to her, your heart quickened a bit when you met her gaze. One eye was closed against the pillow and the other was half open. The orange in your hands felt heavy for a moment and you began to peel it unconsciously. The smell of citrus flooded the room, another happy sigh left your lover.

You offered her half of the orange. She took it and after a few seconds sat down against the back of the bed. The air suddenly felt light, and for the first time in your life, you were not bothered by the morning sun.

"Good morning." Her voice was faint but the gravel of just getting up was present. The sheets shifted as Seulgi approached you, planting a peck on your cheek.

"Good morning." You echoed it with the same calm tone. "What did you dream about?" You watched as her eyes closed again when she rested her head on your shoulder. You took the last bite of your orange before turning to her.

"I dreamt of you." It came with a little smile that freed butterflies in your stomach. She opened one eye and let out a short laugh. "I slept pretty well."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧

The alarm didn't ring, so now you had to race against time to get to your job on time.

On the way out, you almost tripped over one of the boxes in the hallway. You cursed as the pain on your foot arose. In the morning, Seulgi was nowhere to be found. You were startled by her absence but when you saw the time on the clock your worries changed. You stopped in your tracks when you stumbled upon your girlfriend's tiny form. She was blocking the door with her gaze glued to the floor. With a raised eyebrow and confusion flooding your features, you began to speak.

"Did something happen, honey?"

"I made you lunch." It came out so faint that you swore it was your mind playing with you. Her shyness made you want to crush her with a hug. You'd probably get sore cheeks from smiling so much later, but it was worthy. Your eyes drifted to the wooden bento in front of you. You took it in your hands and felt the words trying to slip out of your mouth.

I love you.

You swallowed dry and looked up at Seulgi. "Thank you."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧

Usually, Seulgi was the last one to wake up, even after the cats. When you turned around while yawning and your hands didn't find your girlfriend's warmth, you couldn't help but think the worst. You got up faster than you should have, getting dizzy as you hurried down the hall.

The smell of coffee flooded your senses causing you to calm down. You stood in the doorway as you watched Seulgi tense her shoulders and frown her brows. There was a pan with bread above the fire, and your lover looked more devoted than necessary to toast them.

"Morning." As you sat in the chair, the small greeting slipped through your lips. Seulgi jumped in place and turned around in alarm. Her features softened at the sight. A warm smile spread over your mouth.

"Good morning." She resumed her task after pecking you on the cheek. "Did you sleep well?" Once she finished preparing breakfast, a plate with two slices of toast was placed in front of you.

"Like a baby." You looked at her again and met directly with her eyes. "Thanks." The colour began to creep up your cheeks, causing Seulgi to let out an amused giggle. "Since when do you cook?" You asked light-heartedly.

"Since I have someone to cook for."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧

Your legs were barely moving and your eyebags weighed too much to be real. Exhaustion filled every part of your body. It clouded your thoughts. Searching for the keys to the house seemed to take forever, and the little strength left in your body disappeared when you opened the door.

The muffled noise of the television was heard through the whole apartment. If it weren't for the cheap show that was playing, the silence would be piercing.

"Hi, love." Seulgi's soft voice entered your system as if it were Jesus talking to you. Suddenly you found the motivation to address her. You heard how she laughed when you laid on top of her, hiding your face between her neck and her shoulder. "Are you tired?"

"Mhm." Was all that came out. You inspected the living room with a glance. The boxes had been unpacked and everything was in order. The TV show appeared to be a '90s sitcom, and judging by the notebook on the coffee table, you were sure your girlfriend wasn't paying too much attention.

Your eyes fell on the little chocolate cake. You got puzzled for a moment and then guilt started to consume you.

"You didn't eat? I told you not to wait for me." You raised your head so it was easier to look at her. It took her a few moments to find a reason for your question, and when she realized, a smile spread over her face.

"I wanted to eat it with you." You watched in amazement as she sat up straight and grabbed the cake container. Your eyebrows furrowed, and you hesitantly accepted the piece of the dessert she offered you.

"But it's your favourite." You said in a whisper as you snuggled closer to her. The plate was the best option to hide your blush.

"It's better to eat it with you!" The cheerful tone she used made your stomach turn. Your heartbeat began to accelerate and suddenly the words were too heavy to retain. You swallowed dry and inhaled deeply.

"I love you."

Probably a bone was broken from the speed Seulgi turned around. Everything froze for a moment, and nervousness took over. You started to regret it with every second that passed, tears were threatening to escape.

"I love you, too." She pounced on you as she repeated the same words over and over again. The air circulated in your lungs again, it felt like heaven. Your lips reflected her smile as you laughed brightly.

You connected gazes after a moment, and you swore that never in your life would you feel more at home again.

#seulgi #seulgi imagines #seulgi scenario #seulgi reactions #seulgi fluff #fluff #red velvet #red velvet imagines #red velvet scenarios #irene #yeri #joy #wendy #kang seulgi

123 notes · View notes

imagineclaireandjamie · 5 years ago

Text

Shielded. Chapter Three

Anonymous said to imagineclaireandjamie:

Trojan horse.

Week 1(War and Peace)i:

Monday came around quickly. The amount of sleep she had managed to achieve felt like something of an accomplishment considering what little else there was for her to do.

Feeling brave she gathered herself up and began an exploration of her new home. She recalled the features that Jamie had detailed to her on the Saturday morning before she’d fallen into a light coma for the next 30 odd hours. First, she started with the basement. Recalling the moment in Home Alone where Kevin had been forced to face his own below-ground nemesis, she took the steps carefully, the popular scene repeating over and over in her head until she actually came face to face with a harmless looking space.

As described, there was a washing machine and a dryer -the funnel used to expel the warm air from the back leading up and out of a tiny window near the ceiling- as well as several boxes stacked high in the corner. With not much else to view, she noted the cupboard which contained all the powders and conditioners she’d need and returned to the kitchen.

She’d never really been into cooking before, but despite this she thought the massive aga with its shiny maroon front looked extremely professional. It was, however, so clean she didn’t think it had been used much before. With Jamie working odd and long hours, she presumed it was more likely that he lived on cold snacks and microwave meals.

Looking in the large American-style fridge, she found an assortment of basic produce. What looked like a bottle of unpasteurised milk (most likely bought in himself) and some homemade butter lay in the door alongside a batch of freshly laid eggs. It all seemed fairly self-replacing and she smiled at the idea that one could live completely unaided in the middle of the Highlands if you knew how (or lived with someone else who did).

The freezer, as she expected from inspecting the contents of the fridge, contained a whole host of bagged and sealed meats - enough protein to keep a whole family afloat for months.

Closing the door, she pulled a stack of post-it notes from her pocket and penned a reminder. Seeing all the produce he’d got neatly tucked away reminded her of her teenage years.

Having lost her parents young, she had grown up travelling the world with her uncle and along the way she had gathered herself some producing and growing skills, mainly vegetables and greens, but useful nonetheless. Aiming to reinvigorate her knowledge of horticulture, she wrote:

“Ask about potential vegetable patch/greenhouse…CB”

Placing it on the front of the fridge, she admired the initials she’d signed off with. It hadn’t clicked until she’d come to the end that she could no longer refer to herself with her maiden name and she had hovered over the ‘C’ for longer than normal before sighing and signing with her new pseudonym instead.

Mentally exhausted from overthinking two small letters, she poured herself a glass of water from the tap and continued through into the lounge where she’d sat only hours before with her initial guardians.

It seemed larger and brighter now she actually had the time and a little more energy to view it.

The fireplace was extensive and contained a series of photographs in expressive frames. They must, she thought, have been set up there by someone else.

The first was of a group of young children. Ashamed, she felt badly that she couldn’t pick her host out of the line up. His face and features were still hazy, the only signifier she could recall was the mop of bright red hair that sat atop his head and possibly blue eyes...though she could have been mistaken.

Looking harder, she tried to squint, hoping that might clue her in as to which of the children was Jamie. Giving up, she carried on along the line, smiling as the young girl turned into a young woman. It must be his sister, she pondered, touching the tip of the frame as she looked over the wedding photos. The dress was stunning, the groom looking favourably over at his new bride whilst the crew in the background threw confetti in the air above them.

Picking out Jamie, she noticed his tight smile and high cheekbones. She felt relieved, having not been able to determine who he was in the earlier line-up had made her instantly abashed but at least somewhere in the back of her mind she’d had the forethought to note his defining features in her tired haze.

Towards the back of the ground floor she found a small sitting room. It contained the TV and some rather large overfilled bookcases and looked out over the small garden to the rear. Although she knew she wasn’t supposed to leave the house, she enjoyed -for a moment- sitting on the arm of the chair and looking out across the fields. The sun was still low in the sky and the wind was blowing the long grass gently whilst clouds occasionally masked the sun from view.

The space was enclosed with a waist high stonewall along the top which ran from an outhouse building, to a gate and then on to a covered open-shed arrangement. To the right and behind the shed was a row of rather tall trees. These captured her attention for several minutes as she watched the branches sway and the birds flit in and out of the woodland area. She could almost smell the scent of the spring day and taste the pollen on her tongue as she leaned closer to the window.

It was there she sat for several hours before her stomach growled angrily, reminding her of how little she’d eaten over the weekend.

Making herself a quick sandwich, she wrote out a ‘thank you’ post-it before returning back to her room. She knew Jamie probably wouldn’t be home for a while but the chime of the clock as she’d cleaned up her plate had made her suddenly nervous, as if she couldn’t quite bring herself to make idle conversation yet, and she’d escaped just in case he came home out of the blue to check she was alright.

As it stood, though, he hadn’t and didn’t arrive home until well into the evening. The sun had already begun to set as she put down her kindle at the sound of the door opening and closing.

She knew it was dinner time and the afternoon had passed so quickly that she had barely looked up since she’d returned to her room. Glancing out of the window, she watched the birds fly across the inky blue sky, the orange hue slowly fading as late afternoon turned into evening. Warring with herself, she argued over going down, her mind compromised by her unwillingness to seek out company. She would, after all, have to succumb at some point - it would be rude not to.

Having some form of sixth sense on the matter, Jamie appeared to understand her a little more than she did herself, and for the next few days he allowed her time to adjust and settle.

He would come home at a normal time and, instead of crowding her, he prepared supper, placed hers in the microwave, and then placed himself in the study until bedtime. By the middle of the week she had become accustomed to this routine and would often wait for him to close himself in his own quarters before sneaking back downstairs to eat herself.

As this progressed, her post-it notes become more frequent and she would often add small doodles with large smiley-face stickman on them. Jamie found these endearing, it had been a long time since he’d had anyone else living in the family home and it was a nice surprise to find that he enjoyed it - even if it was only the small noises of Claire moving about that clued him in as to her presence. Stashing the notes in the back of his jeans pocket, he began to collect them, placing them on the pin-board in his small office as he did so.

By the end of the day on Friday he had managed to arrange them into ‘thank you’ notes and ‘question’ notes and had created a set of his own which he aimed to place on the fridge for the following morning. All of these were answers to her queries. Intrigued by her idea for a vegetable patch in the yard, he had returned that specific ask with a list of items he’d ordered from locals and friends which he aimed to have ready for the weekend - this was the one he was most proud of.

“Wire and mesh for coverings, 4 X wooden planks for a raised surround, fertile soil, seeds, glass sheeting to be cut in prep for greenhouse, assorted spring veg selection...JF”

That had been left on Wednesday and he was chuffed to return home in the evening to find a rather large spaghetti bolognaise aside his newest ‘thank you’ note.

Having made the bolognaise she had shyly returned to her room, the message hidden away in her pocket as she’d sat at the desk for the evening to research plant and vegetable growth extensively. There hadn’t been many evenings in her old life where she’d had the time to process alone, and so even though she knew her hobiting away time was coming to an end, she was grateful to have been allowed the week to relax.

Through the use of notes, she had built herself a mental picture of Jamie and his personality. He, at the beginning of the week, had left her meals and then absconded so that she could eat alone, but by the end of Friday their roles had been reversed as she felt he shouldn’t have to take care of her when he’d been out at work all day. She didn’t have a large cooking repertoire, but there were plenty of cookery books hidden in one of the cupboards and she’d taken to reading them to pick out the easier looking recipes to trial.

There had been some mistakes. Some burned pasta (which she hadn’t known to be a possibility until she’d achieved it) but overall it hadn’t been too traumatic.

Peeling open her book, she pulled the post-it -which had now lost most of its stickiness- and ran her fingers over the text. She couldn’t deny how excited she was over the prospect of a garden of her own. The overwhelming thoughtfulness of it was helping to coax her out of her bedroom and she resolved to use the weekend to thank him in person.

As much as she was revelling in their silent, written communications, there was little chance she was (or should be) able to avoid total human interaction for the next 11 weeks. He was going above and beyond for her, changing his own habits whilst she reassessed her life -something few others, she thought, would do for a complete stranger.

With her decision made, resolved to be more social in the morning, she curled up under her duvet with her newest book. Before she knew it, the words were bleeding together, her eyes struggling to remain open as she fell into a dreamless sleep.

#;anonymous #;mod mbd #shielded #Jamie X Claire #ficlet

145 notes · View notes

bansept · 4 years ago

Text

Protector

Part 2

Now this one... It’s a bit difficult to make a relationship believable, honest, not rushed and beautiful in 5 parts, but it’s the challenge! I won’t spoil anything, but I like writing fluff, and this fic is the perfect excuse for an overdose of it hehe

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

If the outside of the house had seemed particularly old and invaded by plants, the inside of the small cottage-like house was modern, with touches of colors everywhere. Old and new objects shared the shelves, silly magazines and philosophical books scattered on the small coffee table in the main room. The entrance, the living room and what seemed to be the start of the kitchen were harboring persian carpets, intricate and deep shapes almost hypnotic.

Nature was not just an outside thing, with a pot of roses on a dresser, some small ferns hiding an old plushie, and more box trees scattered here and there, next to modern lamps.

It felt homey, comfortable. Lived-in. Nothing like Ichigo’s sad apartment, that he never really cared to decorate.

Orihime Inoue sat on her grey sofa, the soft red and white check plaid to her side, and patiently waited for Ichigo to sit down. The young man certainly didn’t make her wait, sitting in what seemed to be a Chesterfield-like armchair. The cushions were a great help soothing his back pains.

“Alright, um, Miss Inoue I only need you to tell me what happened at the bakery. Or anything you can remember.” He clicked his pen to life, taking a notepad from his vest pocket. Orihime seemed to frown a little.

“I thought you said you had already read a report on this?”

“I did, but only the official parts : who were the victims, what age they were and what were the damages. Knowing what you saw could greatly help my colleagues on the field.”

She nodded in understanding, hair bouncing on her shoulders, before getting more comfortable in her seat.

“I was doing my normal and daily routine : waking up, washing up and going for a walk before heading to the bakery. Not many people are there at the time, which was around 7 if I’m not mistaken.” Ichigo nodded, confirming silently.

“I arrived and waited behind Miss Parker. We were chatting and it was her turn before I heard a scream behind me. I turned around and ran to the place I thought it came from, but before I could do anything… It, it exploded. And the owners died, Miss Parker is wounded, I heard.” Her grey eyes blinked rapidly, as if to stop tears from falling. Ichigo awkwardly shifted, placing his pen and notepad back in his pocket before managing to get a clean and unused tissue to her.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all that, Miss Inoue. If it can make you feel better, I know none of the injured are in critical conditions now. Even older customers like Miss Parker will be fine.”

Orihime wiped a tiny tear off her eyes quickly, and Ichigo remarked with awe she was not wearing any kind of makeup. This woman was beautiful like that while doing nothing with her face… He cleared his throat to see her nod, taking a shaky breath before smiling.

“I hope the injured will be alright. And that the culprit will be caught.”

The steel in her eyes hardened, sending a chill down Ichigo’s spine. He had seen harsh looks, murderous ones and angered glares, but Orihime’s was by far the scariest. The man peeled his hand away.

“We will work hard for it. And thanks to your testimony, the investigation will be easier. Hopefully.”

She chuckled at the last word, and by all the goddamn beautiful things on this earth, he swore he was hearing some kind of divine bells. Like an angelic sound coming to bless his ears. He was not even going to think about how her face had crunched up at her laughter. The policeman scratched the back of his head quickly, nervously looking around.

He heard her stand up and tried his best not to follow her moving around in her dark jeans and pink oversized shirt.

“Would you like anything to drink? Or eat?”

Ichigo managed to not choke on air at the ask, because then his fear of being viewed as unprofessional would have come true.

“Um, yes, some coffee please.” His voice was shaky and he internally hit himself for being stupidly crushing over the girl he didn’t know anything about. Except that she was the victim of an explosion that had occured yesterday morning and he was there for WORK.

“Alright. Make yourself comfortable, Mister Officer.”

And now, Ichigo turned crimson, heart going too fast, but thankfully she was out of sight, he told himself, not knowing she was the same kind of absolutely wrecked by the other.

After the first talk in Orihime’s wonderful home, Ichigo had hardly let her out of his sight, only leaving her side to go to his apartment and gather some new clothes. Because, yes, as weird and delightful as it was, he was guarding the young woman day and night now.

Which meant being near her as long as the investigation was rolling.

According to Orihime, nothing or no one was running after her in particular : she didn’t have any enemies, nor was her work important enough for someone to physically act against her. In front of her beautiful grey eyes, Ichigo had decided to trust her, the honesty and sincerity shining bright through him.

Still, it didn’t explain why certain things happened.

One morning, Orihime found one of her shoes, who was always tidily placed near the other in the entrance hall, on a bookshelf, dust slowly growing on it. She had giggled a “silly me”, but the young police officer frowned : there was nothing silly about that.

Another time, a vase she loved had been buried in her garden, the only way to see where it was hidden being the stray cat that often visited the normally calm house scratching the ground curiously.

“You’re thinking too much of it! Really, sometimes I don’t remember where or why I put stuff in weird places.”

Her words did little to soothe him, and only her gentle hand on his arm got his mind out of his working gutter. Ichigo felt his skin react before his muscles, his face turning vermillion and his arm longing for more. More of her, more of those innocent stares and vibrant smiles.

The orange-haired scratched the back of his neck rapidly, scanning the room quickly before nodding, a timid smile on his lips.

“I-I guess…”

Orihime smiled again, even brighter, and turned her head to look at the clock, the auburn mass of hair sending a wave of mouth watering strawberry shampoo. Early afternoon, the sun was shining and that meant one thing to her : gardening.

He suspected her to work her actual job at night, when he was sleeping deeply in his own room, so Ichigo could not interrupt her, or sneak a look at confidential documents. Alone in her room, one light shining on the young woman while her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, the time when her hyperactive brain could entirely focus on whatever an astrophysicist worked on.

The two walked out of the house, one with baggy clothes she wasn’t afraid to ruin with grass, dirt and others, while the other kept his pastel yellow t-shirt with his jeans, the best Ichigo could do against the hot weather of the late summer. Orihime immediately tended to the flowers, carefully handling them, talking to them like she would to old friends, making jokes to Ichigo. It was as if the two were friends since childhood, the discussions so easy it would scare the man.

“Do you believe in other lives, Officer Kurosaki?”

“Hm? Oh, well, I’m not much in religion, so I would say no.”

Her face shivered with a giggle, batting her hand as if to call him silly. He tilted his own head to the side.

“I meant… Other lifetimes. I used to not really think about it, but, since a few months ago, after reuniting with a long-lost friend, I started believing. And now..” Her eyes batted to the sides, probably looking for her gardening kit.

“Now… I start to believe that you and I might just have known each other in another life. A simpler one, with no-one to hurt good people while young and old people enjoy their lives.”

Head down, fingers playing with the stem of a voluminous pink rose. The sun radiating on their backs, hiding their reddening selves.

How much either one of them wished for that.

#bleach #ichihime #ichihime fanfiction #ichihime writing #ichihime headcanon #ichigo x orihime #protector #part 2

24 notes · View notes

dc41896 · 5 years ago

Text

Forbidden Words

Pairing: Chris EvansxBlack Reader

⚠️: Mild language, fluff💕

“Yange mommy!”

“You want more orange?! Keep going and that tiny belly of yours is gonna pop,” you smile tickling your daughter, Luna’s, sides and making her giggle. Peeling another Cutie, you hear the front door open followed by keys hitting the metal dish and Dodger’s nails tapping against the floor.

“Who is that?,” you excitedly gasp following your daughter’s bright eyes as her little legs kick from her booster seat.

“Daddy!!”

“Hi my la la lu!,” he smiles bending down to kiss the four year old’s slightly sticky cheeks. “How many of these have you eaten today huh?”

“She’s on her second, and final, one.” Turning towards you and sweetly kissing your lips, Luna slaps her palm on the table grabbing both of you guy’s attention while she lightly taps her cheek looking towards her father with a “muah!”

Chuckling, he returns back to the adorable little girl again kissing her cheek before blowing raspberries against her skin and making her wildly squeal.

“First you want all the oranges now you want all the kisses?”

“Aww tell mommy don’t be jealous. She gets plenty of kisses every night.”

“Chris!,” you laugh smacking his arm.

“What? She doesn’t know what I’m talking about. Look she’s forgotten about both of us and is back to her food.”

Dropping a slice on the ground in front of Dodger’s nose, she giggles watching him eat the piece of fruit seemingly in one bite. As she sticks out her hand, he excitedly sniffs expecting more food to fall from the sky only making her laugh more feeling his nose tickle her fingers.

“See? No harm done,” he winks walking in the kitchen preparing the kettle for his morning tea.

“Yea yea just don’t let it happen again Evans,” you reply laughing as he zips his lips before throwing away the key and saluting you. “Hey, can you watch her while I go shower and get dressed?”

“Of course go ahead.”

“Oh and no more oranges,” you playfully point at Luna as she points back trying to mimick your raised eyebrow but not quite getting there and cracking a toothy smile.

Swallowing her last slice, while you disappear upstairs, she reaches out towards her father clasping her hands open and closed. “Yange daddy!”

“Sorry love, mommy said no more.”

“Pwease?,” she asks looking up at him with sad brown eyes as he walks over to clean around her mouth and hands.

“Aw c’mon don’t give me the look lulu, you heard mommy.”

Although only being so young, she already knew how much of a softy her dad was. All she had to do was give him those soft, brown eyes, aka “the look,” and he was putty in her hands. Slightly hanging her head as he finished wiping the remaining juice from the corners of her mouth, he sighs picking up another Cutie and quickly peeling it before giving her a couple more slices.

“Alright Luna these are the very last slices okay? You can’t tell mommy I gave you more.” Nodding her head, she grabs the sweet fruit biting half of it with a smile while Chris shakes his head laughing at her reaction. Once finished, she happily holds her arms up ready to be released from her chair and able to roam around the living room. After cleaning her face a final time, he places her on the ground where she immediately runs to her toys with Dodger following close behind.

Hearing the kettle’s high pitched whistle, his attention diverts from Luna’s tea party with her dolls and bears and he moves towards the stove removing it and turning off the eye. Pouring the water in his black mug, a small amount misses it’s target landing on his thumb instead.

“Ow! Shit,” he whispers immediately shaking his hand while placing the kettle back on the stove.

“Shit!,” he hears making his head snap in Luna’s direction. Sitting on her Frozen pillow, she smiles up at Chris completely oblivious of what she just did.

“No no Luna don’t say that! That’s a bad word okay honey?”

“Okay.” Returning back to her tea party, Chris let’s out a breath of relief as he leans against the counter glad that you weren’t in the room to hear what happened.

“Hey everything good?,” you ask walking in the kitchen in your black sweats and NASA tee.

“Mhmm yea all good,” he nervously smiles handing you your own black mug with your favorite tea inside.

“You okay? You seem a little different from earlier?”

“Yea I’m totally fine. Nothing wrong at all,” he replies, mug covering his mouth as you stir honey into your drink confused on why he was acting weird.

Trying to push her toy stroller along the shaggy rug, the front wheel gets caught causing both her dolls to fall to the floor and her newly discovered word to return making Chris nearly choke trying to swallow his tea.

“Luna!,” you gasp setting your cup down. “Come here.” Slowly stepping up to you with her head hanging low, you pick her up tilting her chin so she could look at you.

“Don’t say that okay? That’s a very bad word kids shouldn’t say.”

“Sowry mommy, daddy.”

“It’s okay lulu, just forget about that word,” Chris smiles gently rubbing a thumb over her cheek as she softly giggles.

“Go back to your dolls, we’ll come play with you in a minute love.”

“Okay,” she smiles as you kiss her cheek and place her back on the ground watching her run to now play with Dodger.

“You knew about this didn’t you?”

“What? No I have no idea where she got that from.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that,” you smirk standing in front of him with arms crossed over your chest. Spreading his legs, he slightly squats to meet your eyes opening his mouth as if he was about to speak, but instead kissing all over your face making you laugh.

“Alright you got me, I’m sorry. I was pouring water in the mug and some got on my finger and it slipped out. I thought I was quiet though and she wasn’t listening.”

Sighing, you wrap your arms around his waist standing on the tip of your toes to kiss his neck before lying your head on his chest looking up at him. “It’s okay I know it was an accident, but you know what this means right?”

“I’m getting punished later..?,” he asks with a smirk making you lightly smack his chest as you both laugh.

“Technically yes, but not the fun way. We’re gonna have a swear jar.”

“Ugh, I feel like it’ll be easier to just give you all my money.”

“It won’t be that bad. It’ll only go in effect when Luna is awake and in the same room as us; then at the end of the month we’ll donate it in her name.”

“Okay sounds good. So what’s the prices?”

“Hmm....$5 for your basic curse words, $10 for variations like SOB, GD, stuff like that, and $15 for the b and f word. Deal?”

Reaching in his pocket, he pulls out his wallet removing a $5 bill and placing it on the table before leaning down to meet your soft lips with his.

“Deal.”

Taglist: @crushed-pink-petals-writes @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @curlyhairclub @renfrewscorner @secretmysteriousperson @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @damnitaa

If anybody else wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for, or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

#chris evans #chrisxblackreader #chrisxwoc #chrisxreader

127 notes · View notes