#Thank you so much for sending this in Sparrow!

[thesecondhandwoman]

Hi! Im usually too embarrassed to send requests but- maybe Ambessa with assistant reader? Whose so sweet and awkward and tries her best to help and follow ambessa around- (if it's not too much reader is from the undercity and worked hard to try and be were she is now)

HER LITTLE ASSISTANT

Ambessa x f!reader

Synopsis: You never fully grasped at the fact you had been chosen as Ambessa’s personal assistant, a simple girl who had climbed high from the Undercity. But now that you had the chance, you weren’t gonna give it up, no matter how nervous you may be.

Request: Anon 🤍

The Medarda estate in Noxus was every bit as imposing as its mistress. A sprawling fortress of crimson stone and black iron, it loomed over the city like a sentinel, unyielding and proud. It was fitting, then, that the woman who ruled within it was just as formidable.

You were not.

Trailing behind Ambessa Medarda as her assistant, you often felt like a tiny sparrow struggling to keep pace with a hawk. She strode through the halls with her characteristic confidence, her long strides and the sharp clink of her armor an unrelenting tempo you scrambled to match.

Your arms were laden with reports, a satchel bouncing awkwardly against your hip. You’d learned early on that Noxian efficiency left no room for mistakes, and as someone who’d clawed their way out of Zaun’s undercity, failure wasn’t an option.

“Keep up, little one,” Ambessa called over her shoulder, her tone teasing yet commanding.

“Yes, ma’am,” you chirped, nearly tripping as you hurried to close the gap.

She stopped abruptly, turning to watch as you skidded to a halt in front of her. Her sharp eyes swept over you, taking in your disheveled appearance and flushed cheeks.

“Well, I did not mean keep up by falling,” she chuckled, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Just breathe.”

“I—yes, of course,” you stammered, clutching the reports tighter. “Sorry, Lady Medarda.”

Her brow arched. “Ambessa. You’ve been working for me long enough to drop the formalities.”

“Right. Ambessa,” you repeated, though the name felt far too intimate on your tongue.

She seemed satisfied and gestured for you to follow. “Good. Now, let’s see if you’ve organized these reports properly.”

Ambessa’s days were relentless, filled with strategy meetings, inspections, and commanding the loyalty of those around her. You followed her through it all, your hands busy with ledgers and maps, your mind spinning as you tried to keep up with her sharp wit.

Despite your nerves, you’d started to notice small things about her. The way she rolled her shoulders after a long meeting. The faint smile that tugged at her lips when something amused her. The occasional soft glance she directed your way when she thought you weren’t looking.

She wasn’t cruel, not to you. Stern, yes. Intimidating? Always. But there was a softness to her that you suspected few ever saw. It was in the way she ensured you ate during long days, how she subtly slowed her pace when she noticed you struggling to keep up.

And sometimes, her touch lingered just a moment too long.

Like now.

The two of you stood in her private study, the soft glow of the hearth casting flickering shadows across the room. You were handing her a report when her fingers brushed yours. It was the barest of touches, but it sent a jolt through you.

“You’re trembling,” she remarked, her voice low and teasing.

“S-sorry,” you stuttered, quickly pulling your hand back.

She chuckled, setting the report aside. “Relax, little one. You’ve done well today.”

Her praise was rare and precious, and you couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through your chest. “Thank you, Ambessa. I just want to make sure I don’t disappoint you.”

Her expression softened, and for a moment, the weight of her armor seemed to lift. “You could never disappoint me.”

Like the others, the following days brought more of the same: relentless work, fleeting touches, and a growing tension that neither of you addressed.

Ambessa was always close, closer than necessary, you thought. When reviewing maps, she would stand behind you, her breath warm against your ear as she pointed out key locations. Her hand would sometimes rest on your shoulder, firm and reassuring.

It wasn’t inappropriate, but it was enough to make your heart race and your thoughts spiral. Did she even realize what she was doing to you?

One evening, as you prepared tea in the estate’s kitchen, Ambessa entered unexpectedly. You jumped, nearly dropping the kettle.

“Ambessa! I didn’t hear you,” you said, clutching the counter for support.

“I noticed,” she said with a smirk. “What are you doing down here?”

“I—well, I thought you might like some tea. You’ve been working so hard, and I just…” You trailed off, your cheeks burning.

Her expression softened, and she stepped closer. “That’s thoughtful of you.”

You swallowed hard as she took the kettle from your hands, her fingers brushing yours again. Her touch lingered, warm and deliberate.

“You’re too kind, little one,” she said softly, her gaze locking with yours.

Your heart thundered in your chest. “I just want to help.”

She smiled—a rare, genuine smile that made your knees weak. “You do more than help. You keep me grounded.

The tipping point came on a quiet night, weeks later. The day had been exhausting, and you were both in her study, the fire crackling softly as you worked through a final stack of documents.

Ambessa set her quill down, leaning back in her chair as she regarded you thoughtfully. “You’ve worked hard today. Come here.”

You hesitated, unsure of what she meant.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” she said, though her tone was more amused than stern.

You approached her cautiously, standing awkwardly in front of her chair. She reached out, her hands settling on your hips as she guided you to sit on the edge of the desk.

“Ambessa?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Shh,” she murmured, her thumbs brushing small circles against your sides.

Her touch was firm yet gentle, grounding you in a way that made your breath hitch. Her gaze was softer than you’d ever seen it, and the tension that had been simmering between you for weeks finally broke.

“I’ve been patient,” she said, her voice low and intimate. “But I can’t ignore this anymore.”

You blinked, your heart pounding. “Ignore what?”

“The way I feel about you,” she admitted, her honesty stealing the air from your lungs.

Your lips parted, but no words came. She cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin as she leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

When her lips met yours, it was soft and tentative, as though she was afraid of overwhelming you. Her kiss was surprisingly gentle for someone so strong, her touch careful and reverent.

You melted into her, your hands finding their way to her shoulders as the world fell away.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her breath warm against your skin.

“Tell me I’m not wrong,” she murmured, her voice laced with vulnerability.

“You’re not,” you whispered, your voice trembling but sure.

She smiled, her eyes holding a tenderness that made your chest ache. “Good.”

She slowly leaned back in, allowing her lips to ghost against yours once more. “Then let me continue to show my love for you.” She breathed before her lips captured yours again.

A/N: kinda mad I made this so short, but I hope it’s okay!!

[lowkeyrobin]

(i’m not sure if your requests are open so i’m sorry if they aren’t and i’m sending this in 😭)

Can I request Five with a reader that’s always really energetic and yaps a lot but something happens between them and Reader gets distant?? 🫶

ooo yeah sure!! ; and my requests are on dw! when they're closed I remove my inbox in general just to avoid it and to prevent ppl who don't look at the big bold words in my bio lol ; but yeah, thank you for requesting! hope you enjoy! ; also I made this in hc format cause I was NOT trying to write all that

FIVE HARGREEVES ; yapparappa

summary ; youre really energetic and talkative, but once a fight breaks, you become distant and quiet

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; don't ask ab the title, I was just thinking parappa the rapper and yeah idk

word count ; 278

masterlist

he's a quiet guy

but he'll happily listen to your yapping

you surprisingly teach him a lot

and he finds it comforting

like classical music to Reginald, he wouldn't be able to survive without you

but after a fight (about Marcus / Sparrow Academy & him running off with Klaus and not being around for the Kugelblitz) you'd started to avoid him

he said some very rude things

those things being along the lines of how he wished he never met you, how annoying you are, how much he can't stand you, etc

so you obviously stormed off all angry at each other

but you'd become completely distant while he was trying to fix the world again

like you didn't come down for an early morning coffee with him like you usually did

nor did you rant about anything to him later that night or the ones following

if he was even around, you'd move away and not even look at him

like he hadn't heard you speak for DAYS

that's never happened before

like you're always rambling about something or asking him questions about shit, etc

he started to feel bad when Klaus started yelling at him about it

"this is childish! you're stuck in a child's body trying to prove you're a man and you're hurting your love!" he fake cries. "they could get kugelblitz'ed and their last memories of you would be you yelling at them, five"

he groans, deciding he'll go apologize to you

so he apologizes, expecting one from you as well

and you deliver

he's up front and honest that he doesn't find your rambling annoying

if anything its comforting for him

aweee happy ending lol

[socksracoon10]

Hi love here I come with my first spontaneous idea 🩷

Reader is the Commodore's sister but sick of the ways of society. When Jack saves Elisabeth, reader is the one who persuaded James not to kill Jack and also the one he happens to threat in order to escape. She’s somehow drawn to the Captain and later gives Will the keys to the cell to set him free. Jacks thoughts circle around her, too and they reunite when she swings last minute from the Dauntless over to the Interceptor to join the pirates making way❣️

Curious of The Seas

A/N: Literally fell in love with your ask oh my god, couldn't stop thinking about it before I began writing!! Thank you so much for this request! Pairings: Jack Sparrow x F!Reader, Will Turner x F!Reader (Platonic), James Norrington x F!Reader (siblings)

"Don't slouch, stand straight," Commodore Norrington hissed at you. You glared at your brother, curving your lips downward. You hated how strict and loyal he was to the British Crown and how he enforced his rules onto you, despite being his "precious baby sister." 

Your brother didn't hate you, but he sure did a good job of making you hate him. He was pacing his quarters back and forth, rehearsing what he would say to Miss Elizabeth Swann upon meeting her. You rolled your eyes at the pathetic scene, realizing that if your brother were to marry Miss Swann you were next on the list for the most eligible bachelorette in Port Royal. Your body cringed at the thought and you wriggled your back to shake off the eerie feeling crawling down your spine and focused on trying to ease your brother at the moment.

"James, there is no point in stressing over something as simple as this. Tell her you are in love with-" You began but frowned when he interjected,

"Love? Don't be ridiculous!"

"So, you're not in love with her?" You inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, I very much am in love with her. But it is not proper for a man such as myself to say trivial things to the daughter of the Governor!" Your brother reasoned and you sighed in an exasperated tone, shifting your gaze out the window.

Elizabeth had stared at you with a quizzical look on her face when your brother and you had first approached her. You both shared the same expression of disdain for the situation. It was very clear to see that she was indifferent to your brother and surely was the very last man that she had any interest for. You, on the other hand, dearly loved your brother and wanted to save him from any heartache that she would cause him. You chewed your lip nervously, watching them exchange a few words of greetings before walking away. The commodore glanced over his shoulder, mouthing a few warnings to reign your behavior in for the biggest moment of his life before stalking away.

Huffing in annoyance, you picked the ends of your dress up and marched past the Governor who was just about to start a conversation with you. He awkwardly shut his mouth and watched you walk away to stand on the other corner of the pillar where your brother and Elizabeth stood. He leaned backward to get a good look at you, sending you another glare before returning his full attention to the woman in front of him with a nervous smile. You sighed, gazing out to the sea. Your brother had taken you once beyond Port Royal when you were a little girl and he swore it was something he very much regretted; all you could ever do since then was talk about sailing the seas. You desired to travel across the world, collect artifacts, and live a free life. Your brother scoffed at your desires, stating that he would rather die than see his little sister galloping around like a pirate of all creatures.

As you gazed out into the horizons with a look of yearning, you heard the loudest splash from below. Peering over the edges of the wall, you frowned at the ripples that seemed to bloom near the rocks and you instantly pulled back from your position and walked around to notice your brother screaming Elizabeth's name.

"What did you do?" You exclaimed, resting a hand on his shoulder. He pulled away from your grasp, beginning to take his coat off but you grabbed hold of him,

"The rocks, James! She's lucky that she didn't hit them on her way down! Come, we can reach her at the docks!" You urged him, yanking his arm. He seemed instilled with distraught, at a loss for words, "She must've jumped by your mere presence!"

Your brother sent you a nasty scowl and the playful smirk on your lips faded away instantaneously. You knew this was no joking matter; the poor woman could've died on her way down and she was to be betrothed to him anyway. As your brother scampered off with the rest of the guards, you found your feet rooted to the ground as you stared up at the sky. Something was amiss. The clouds darkened and circled about gravely, and the sea no longer held its silky blue blanket to comfort you. Before you could try and comprehend what must've occurred, you felt an urgent tug around your arms and you sharply turned to find yourself facing the Governor.

"Come now, my dear, you mustn't dawdle around when my daughter's life is in danger!" He exclaimed and you frowned at his words, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at him. Even if you wanted to help Elizabeth, there was surely no way you could swim into the waters with this puffy dress around you. You followed him down to the docks, pushing past the British officers to find yourself facing Elizabeth coughing up heaps of water from her lungs and then... a pirate.

With all the rifles surrounding him, you nearly thought they were aimed at your brother who stood in the way. You could only make out half his face, oblivious to the ensuing conversation that your brother was currently engaged in. You peeked around the Commodore's shoulder, carefully eyeing the strange man in your presence when his eyes flickered over to you for a sharp second before returning to your brother. Your breath hitched at the moment, taking in his disheveled and wet appearance as your brother remained as the shield between the man and you.

"He's a pirate," Your brother growled, his jaw clenching as he barked orders for his arrest. He ignored your gaping stare as he continued, "Sparrow, I assume?"

"Jack Sparrow?" You interjected, your mouth practically on the floor as you stared at him. The corner of the pirate's lips curved into a small smirk,

"It's Captain Jack Sparrow, love," He smiled with a wink. You smiled back before your brother forcefully shoved you behind him once again. He made a mental note to have a discussion with you about your behavior as soon as you returned home. He took the pirate's belongings and derided him for his lack of proper weapons, but it bothered him so deeply that you were so enchanted by the man. It irked him to think that his sister would fall foolish to a PIRATE of all people. He forcefully grabbed onto Jack's arm and began dragging him off before you cut him off,

"James! James!" You cried out, and your brother halted in his tracks and sent you a menacing scowl.

"Not another word from you, (Y/N)." He hissed, and you scoffed before pulling your skirt up ever so slightly to march up to your brother,

"This man, pirate or not, has just saved your betrothed's life! I suggest you at least show some mercy upon him!"

"One good deed is not enough to redeem a man's life of wickedness," Your brother corrected you as Jack was being handcuffed by a Redcoat.

"Though it seems enough to condemn him," Jack added, and you offered him a sympathetic look before turning to your brother with pleading eyes.

"Brother, please. I beg of you, consider an alternative for this man." You prodded him, as your eyes fell onto Elizabeth who smiled softly at your words.

"Please do so," Jack muttered, before dragging his bound hands around your neck. You gasped in response, tugging at the chains as your brother panicked.

"No one shoots!" The Commodore bellowed, holding his hands in the air, "Let go of my sister."

"Only if you return my belongings," Jack taunted with a haughty grin. He leaned closer to lowly utter into your ears, "You must be regretting your kindness, do you not?"

"I don't, but it seems that you'll regret it," You whispered, as you watched the guards hand in his belongings in a bundle. Jack nudged your back with his knee ever so lightly to grab hold of his things and you begrudgingly did so, before sharply turning around to face him.

"Now if you'll do me the pleasure... my, I don't think I know your name..." He said with a sly smirk. You frowned at him,

"It's Miss Norrington to you," You spat, placing his hat on. As you placed his sword, belt, and other personnel around him, you could feel his intense stare burning deep into you. If it was of lust or attraction, you did not know and at the moment did not necessarily care. Your mind was fixated on other things, and your brother was seething in rage as he watched Jack give him a look regarding your body against his that made him want to hurl. To think his sister was so close to a gruesome pirate! It was preposterous!

As you tied the last remaining string of his belt around him, you looked up at him with disgust. Not only was he a pirate, but this would be the talk of the town, and your brother's and your reputation would be spoiled. Your brother could easily regain his good fortune, but you were never as lucky. You hated the way the women would gossip and to think it was all spoiled over one man you decided to be too merciful with because your curiosity could not be controlled made you ready to commit arson.

"Is this how you repay me?" You hissed and the pirate smirked at your words,

"I saved your friend's life, and now you save me. Besides, you did after all wish for me to live. Now, suffer those consequences. When shall a beautiful lady such as yourself realize to never mess with a pirate?" He chuckled, before harshly turning you around with his gun aimed at your head. Your brother flinched at the sudden movement, making sure you were alright. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, you will always remember this as the day you almost caught Jack Sparrow," The pirate's voice boomed from behind you and the very next second you found yourself thrust upon your brother and Elizabeth. As Jack Sparrow hurriedly began his escape, he did not fail to include a personal message from his heart, "Thank you very much, Miss Norrington. I shall not ever forget such kindness!"

And you weren't ready to forget him, either. It would be for another reason. As the night raged on with a surge of pirates infiltrating Port Royal, you felt a growing desire to do something about it. Your brother had joined the Governor for his safety and left you at home to be tended to by the maids. Upon realizing that the front door would burst open regardless of the circumstances, you quietly slipped out the window in your nightly attire and made your way to the blacksmith's quarters where you knew for a fact that your good friend Will Smith would be. Will and you had grown as siblings; he was there for you more than your brother had been. He had anticipated your arrival anyway but found himself in jeopardy when his ears gathered the news that Elizabeth Swann had been abducted by the pirates. He was pacing around when you arrived and he quickly latched onto your shoulders,

"They've taken Elizabeth! I tried my best but-" Will began but you silenced him, bringing a hand to his mouth.

"I know what you must be going through. But there is not enough time. I heard you helped imprison Jack Sparrow." You whispered and he nodded his head, eyes wide as he tried to make the best of the situation, "Come, I have the key with me, we can both interrogate him and seek his help." Your hand fell to his own and led him towards the streets.

"Wait a minute," Will stopped you, and with a glance over your shoulder you already knew what he was about to say. He was going to prevent you from going. "(Y/N), I know you've always wished to escape Port Royal, but I cannot bring harm to you once you step foot onto the waters."

"Will," You chastised him, "I am no longer a little girl. I am very capable of handling my own matters."

"You are inexperienced, that's all I can say." Will rebuked your claim and you gasped at his words, before furrowing your brows,

"So are you!"

"Ah, but I shall be bringing Sparrow with me to help find Elizabeth."

"Oh, don't be so dull! I can help Sparrow and you as well. Do not prevent me from doing so! If it is out of fear that a pirate may do something towards a woman of my status, I assure you that no such thing will occur! If he dares to even look at me, I shall see to it that his eyes are gouged out by his blade!" You reasoned and Will took a step backwards, his lips parting in shock at your words. You had the spirit of a pirate in you that was for sure, and that was exactly what he feared.

"I cannot let you join. Your brother is... already facing loss," He replied in an awkward tone, considering how much he cared about Elizabeth, "He would be devasted to find you gone as well. Just stay put for now. I'm sure there shall be something more exciting for you in Port Royal."

You muttered a few unladylike curses under your breath and reluctantly offered him the key to the jail cell, "At least tell Sparrow that I was... delighted by his presence."

Will raised a suspicious eyebrow at your remark, unsure of how to respond. He nodded his head and then left you alone, as you brought your hands over your arms as your mind wandered towards the sea once again.

To say that Jack Sparrow was surprised by Will's statement regarding you would be an understatement. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that you so willingly offered him the key to his escape, considering how he had humiliated your brother and especially you in front of everyone at the docks earlier in the day. He chewed his lip, his eyes dilating at the thought of you. The way you stared at him in defiance, your temples rising and falling with the way you clenched your jaw. Of course, who could forget the sensation of your fingers pressed up against him as you fastened his belt? As much of the ladies' man that Jack was, there was something different about you. You weren't like Giselle or Scarlet, complaining about superficial things or just merely trying to get into his pants. He could tell there was this curious spirit fighting to break free when he first laid eyes on you. The way you cautiously peered over your brother's shoulder had made him... well, he certainly wouldn't say his heart skipped a beat. He wasn't a silly little boy. He was a man! A grown man, a pirate! CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow, mind you. And yet here he was, trying to justify to himself that what he felt for you was nothing more than just infatuation that would surely pass on.

But it didn't. It never did. While of course, his thoughts about stealing The Interceptor were his priority, he just couldn't stand still without his mind fleeting over to the very image of you, dressed in that regal bright blue gown and your hair all curled and pinned to form the most exquisite portrait of a woman he'd ever seen in his life. He smirked to himself at the thought of you, wondering what you must be doing at Port Royal at the moment. What if your brother had you married off to someone else? What if you were to live the rest of your life as a boring wife to an equally boring officer? He shook his head, wriggling himself free from those imaginative concoctions. He was a pirate, damn it. He had better things to think about than just a woman he had seen days ago.

"You've got to be kidding me," Your brother grumbled as he pushed past you. You had boarded The Interceptor with him, not because you had wanted to - even though you took every chance out on the sea with gratefulness - but because your brother was so worried about the possibility of your abduction that he wished you were beside him at all times. Including those incredibly still moments of him gazing out into the sea. To him, he seemed to have an air of control, all the world's burdens upon his shoulder. This was his duty. When you gazed out into the sea, however, it was a plethora of possibilities. The unmarked territories you could claim, the desire for you to seek out treasure from all corners. You could be free. And no one would stop you. Save your brother, but that was something he'd always do anyway. Your attention focused on The Dauntless a couple hundred meters away as you noticed flocks of the British crew on small boats were paddling towards the ship you were in. Your brother gazed through his telescope and snarled at the sight, hesitantly passing the device for you to see as well. From afar, you saw Will Turner and... Jack Sparrow? The pirate? Both of them were flapping their arms around trying to make use of the mast. You guffawed at the sight, laughing at them. You turned to face your brother who quickly reminded you with his gaze about your behavior and you swallowed the amusement away as fast as you could.

The two ships - The Dauntless and The Interceptor - were locked horns now and your brother ordered you to come with him to board The Dauntless and put an end to Sparrow's madness. You reluctantly agreed, your eyes scanning around to see any sight of the familiar pirate you had so longed to see. 

"Search every cabin, every hull," Your brother barked, before turning back to you, "And you stay close to me. Do not go wandering about like a fool like you always do." 

You glowered at him, electing not to anger him any further as you stood on the deck. You watched him disappear among the surge of officers onto The Dauntless. You sighed, pacing back and forth when you noticed two men swing over to The Interceptor. It was Will and Jack.

Eyes widening in surprise, you tried to call attention to the situation but your cries fell on deaf ears. You stomped your foot and watched Jack cut off the rope ties, one by one. His gaze was fixed downwards until he looked up momentarily, and there you stood. He stood there for a few more seconds, completely surprised by your presence. Deep down, as much as he hated to admit it, he feared that he would never see you again.

"What are you doing? Cut the rope!" Will cried out in confusion before he followed Jack's eyes to you. Jack looked upwards at the rope still connecting the two boats before turning back to you,

"Jump, Miss Norrington!" He instructed, and you stepped forward, holding onto a long piece of rope. Upon hearing your name, your brother rushed out of the Captain's Quarters, pushing past his men.

"(Y/N)!" He yelled, his eyes daring you to make another move. Realizing that this was the only opportunity to acquire what you had spent so long yearning for; the deep blue seas, the adventure, and the whimsical treasures, you sent him one final glance before running off the deck of The Dauntless and swinging onto The Interceptor. With the final rope now gone, and the ship sailing forward at full speed your brother looked at you as if you were dead to him.

When The Dauntless was far behind and there seemed to be no danger at the present moment, you walked towards your friend Will and the pirate beside him. Will seemed elated that you were there, and he hugged you so warmly that you nearly forgot that he was not related to you by blood. Releasing you from his arms, he sheepishly stepped aside as Jack Sparrow stepped forward.

"Miss Norrington, it is a pleasure to have you on board with us. I almost feared you might not have the guts to swing over," He teased, his hand graciously wrapping around your own as he kissed your fingers with such gentleness that it surprised you. You cracked half a smile at him, narrowing your eyes, before responding,

"You may call me (Y/N), and please, I never turn down an opportunity for adventure."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Captain's Orders 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, controlling behaviour, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The Captain takes it upon himself to change your life.

Characters: Steve Rogers

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Shea and Donna are loud. All night long, as if to spite you. Maybe Steve is just as much a hero as they say. He's saving you from them.

You don't sleep much, not that you expected to. You're as anxious as you used to get before your math final. It's like your insides are rotting away.

You have your bag packed. Just the one rolling suitcase and your purse. You dragged everything you deemed trash down to the dumpster. It will be easier for Shea to find a roommate with your furniture already there for them.

You put your bag by the front door and look around the apartment. It's not a bittersweet goodbye. You always dreamed of getting out of here; you just always thought it would be under a much different circumstances. Well, you need to stop expecting the world to work for you and do it yourself. Right?

You go to Shea's room and tap with your knuckles, "hey, I'm headed out now."

She doesn't answer.

"Thought you'd want to say goodbye to your sister."

"Fuck off," she barks back. "God, my head is pounding."

"Yeah, shut the fuck up," down hollers from her room.

You sigh and turn away. Your family isn't known for their sentiment. You barely feel sad about leaving Shea. She's always been a bitch.

You shut the door behind you as you go into the hallway. You lock it and slip the keys through the mail slot. No going back now.

You roll your bag down to the elevator. Still out of order. You let it bounce down the steps as you make a slow descent. It's quarter to; you're plenty early. Not earlier than him.

Steve leans on the front of a silver car, his head tilted up as he squints. Sparrows chitter in the bushes as robins pick the earth for their breakfast. You shuffle down the cracked walkway as he slowly lowers his sights to you.

"You said ten," you say.

"Good morning to you too," he sniffs. "Posture."

He points and you fix your shoulders. You're tired. You don't really care if you're hunching. This isn't going to be easy.

"Good morning," you say.

"You're early. Good job," he stands and nears you. You almost stagger back as you take in his size. He puts his hand next to yours on the suitcase handle. "May I?"

"Um, thanks, but you sure I shouldn't do that myself."

"No, that's not your job," he assures and wiggles the handle away from your grasp. "Get in the car."

You sidle away and nod, "yes... Captain."

He gives a snort of approval and collapses the handle of the bag. He lifts it by the shorter one as if it's nothing more than air. Your mouth falls open for just a moment. You're reminded of the museum write-up. Super soldier. Super hard ass.

You follow his orders and get in the car. He closes the trunk and lets himself into the driver's side. You fidget, fingers twiddling on your legs, feet bouncing, bottom squirming in the seat.

"Belt," he commands.

"Yes, Captain," you quickly buckle up and he does the same in a much less addled manner.

He starts the car and you flinch. You look out the window at your building then through the windshield ahead of you. You gulp. Your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth.

"You're scared of me," he says.

"What? No," your squeak gives away the truth. You only realise then he's right.

"Your heart is racing. You're nervous about this." He says.

You put your hands over your heart, "don't listen to it. That's... that's nosy."

"I'm not trying," he scoffs as he shifts into gear.

"Right, well..." you reach for the dashboard and he tuts.

"Ask."

You rescind your hand and sit back. You blink at him and take a breath. "Captain, may I turn on some music?"

"You may. Don't change the station though."

You frown. You tap the screen and the satellite radio starts. Ah, 1960s best of the basics. Boring. You're surprised he's into Helter Skelter.

You hide a yawn behind your chair and sink back into the seat. You peek at him quickly. It's Captain America. Right beside you. It's just not making sense. Still.

He inhales, "is that coconut?"

"What?" You hesitate then look down. You raise your wrist and sniff where you spritzed the body spray. "Oh, yeah. Is it...too much?" You can barely smell it yourself.

"I don't mind it," he shrugs.

"Next you're going to say you know what kind of shampoo I used," you scoff.

"Something with apple," he says. "But you use Pears soap. I know that for sure. My ma used to, as well."

You twitch, "oh, wow, it's like a magic trick."

He laughs, "I guess."

You cross your arms and slump further down. He can smell all that, but what else can he smell?

"You don't smell bad, if that's what's worrying you," he says. "Really. Your sweat smells like..." he stops himself and shakes his head. "Yeah, it's nothing. Really."

That's a bit weird but you're glad you don't have that curse. A lot of scents give you migraines. You can't imagine having a dog's nose.

"Right, uh, well, you smell fine too," you say awkwardly.

⭐

The airport is hell. You've never been to one so the experience is one you hope to never have again. Why did you ever dream of vacation? Well, this isn't one of those, is it?

The waiting, the noise, the tension, it bubbles up and reminds you that you forgot a coffee. You were so knotted up over travelling, it just slipped your mind. Your stomach keeps mulching too. You need to eat.

Boarding is another slog. You find your seats. Steve offers up the window. That's nice of him. Considering he usually flies in the Avengers jet. it's probably not very exciting for him. That makes you feel even more like a child.

Seatbelts and take off aren't as bad as you expect. There's a few people with panic in their eyes but you're oddly calm. When the seat belt light goes off, you try to ease yourself for the duration of the flight. You take your phone out of your bag. It's quickly covered by Steve's hand before you can turn it on.

"Rule number one. Get rid of this thing," he takes the phone from you and you stutter.

"Huh? But I was just going to read an ebook."

"Wanna read?" He reaches under the seat and lifts his carryon. He drops your cell inside and takes out a book. A classic; Dickens. Ugh. "There ya go."

"Right, thanks, but--"

"You agreed. My rules."

"I did, but..." you look down at the book and take it. "Okay, sure. Never read anything but Twist. Maybe it's good."

He shifts in his seat. You do too as he taps your knee. "Posture."

You sigh but push your shoulders up. He tuts. This is going to suck. You never had a dad growing up but you imagine you didn't miss out on much.

There's a rattling in the aisle. You glance over as an attendant pushes a cart. You smell coffee. She stops at the end of the row, "anything for you?"

"Um, oh, can I have a coffee?" You reach for your purse and once more, Steve stops you.

"Decaf," he leans forward to wiggle free his wallet. "And she'll have the fruit plate, as well as a cup of cottage cheese."

"Yes, sir," she answers with a sunny smile. You frown but don't argue. Decaf is going to do shit all for you.

"Caffeine is bad for you. You need to get your body in tune," he takes the coffee and hands it to you as he lectures.

"Excuse me," the attendant says as she opens the little door an takes out a container. "Are you Steve Rogers?"

He takes a breath, "I am. Please try not to let on."

"Of course, Captain, sorry," she preens and hands over the fruit and cup of disgusting cheese.

"Thanks," he says. He sits back, "put the table down." You pull down the table as you let the book slip down beside your thigh. He sets the food down and hands you the spork. "You didn't eat. You should try to do so earlier."

"How..." you begin.

"I can hear your stomach. Now eat."

"Could I not have yogurt?" You ask.

"They only have the sugar stuff so no," he crosses his arms.

You nod and contemplate how to force down the lumpy cheese, "thanks, Steve." He grunts. "Captain," you correct yourself.

You put a few of the grapes into the cup. That should help. Maybe.

You focus on eating. It's a struggle. Maybe he can tell but you try not to let on. It's disgusting. Does he eat like this every day? You bet he can eat like trash and still look like he does.

You finish, saving the pineapple for last. You wash it down with the toothless coffee and sit back. You hold back a grumble.

"Lots of protein in cottage cheese. Fruit has natural sugars, not like those cupcakes you posted."

"Cupcakes?" You mutter, "wait--"

"I saw your post history. Remember?"

"Didn't think you went that far back," you reply.

"You looked at mine too."

"Well, yeah..."

"Pretty standard."

"Yeah, but--" you cringe before you can continue.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, continue. Rule number two. Honesty. Always tell the truth."

You pout and stare at the back of the seat, "I didn't track you down."

He chuckles, "that would require effort."

You shrink down again. He's right.

"Posture," he warns again.

"I know, I know," you writhe in the seat and force your back straight. You put the coffee down and grab the book. "Thanks, Captain."

"You're welcome. You'll see. Captain knows best."

⭐

New York is busy. The sort of chaos that makes you dizzy.

You sit in the back of the cab and watch the streets pass by. It's like in the movies but less bright and happy. More furious and smoky. And there's so many ads.

Finally, the taxi stops. Steve gets out first and beckons you after him. You follow and he shuts the door. You stand on the curb as he grabs the bags. At least he's willing to lug all that around.

He points you toward the townhouse. You go ahead of him as he directs you from behind. He puts his bag on yours and slips by you. He punches in the front door code and the buttons flash green.

You turn the handle and enter. He brings the bags in with him. You go to move out of his way and he clucks.

"Shoes. On the rack."

You flinch but obey. You take off your shoes and put them on the dark wooden rack. Everything is neat and precise. He unties his shoes and shoves them next to yours. He stands straight and you turn to take in the entryway. The ceiling is high, a staircase before you in rich teak, and the floors are shining.

"Nice place," you say.

"Sure is. Takes a lot of upkeep."

"It would."

"You'll see," he once more lifts the bags.

"I'll... what does that..." he heads up the stairs as you trail him, "Steve--Captain," you climb behind him, "wait, really? I gotta be your maid?"

He stays quiet as he leads you to the second floor. He turns as you watch his broad back. He's great at giving orders, just not details.

"Not a maid," he says as he stops at the end of the hall, "get the door, sweetheart."

You wince at that word. Sweetheart. You turn the handle and push inward. He carries the bags inside and approaches the bed. He puts both on the bench at the end.

You glance around, taking it all in. It's lived in but tidy. A desk with a tablet and some books, the chair half pulled out, jackets hung from mounted hooks, a closet door, a velvet cushioned chair in the corner. It's his room. It has to be, so why...

"So, where am I staying?" You ask.

He looks over his shoulder and raises a brow. He turns back and puts your bag on its side. He unzips your bag and flips the lid. He takes your laptop out first.

"No screens," he says as he brings it to the desk. He returns to your bag as your chest squeezes.

"Captain, hey, that's-- mine," you scurry across the room, "wow!" You try to snatch a pair of panties from him as he lifts them out. "Yo, those are... private."

He lowers them but doesn't let go. He looks you in the eye. He angles his head smugly, "you don't understand. Nothing's private for you, sweetheart." He pulls the panties beyond your grasp, "and these..." he flutters the cotton panties. "Not good enough. We'll get better."

"Woah, woah, woah," you sputter. "This-- that--" you look around and your blood turns cold. "Where's my room, Captain?"

He continues to sift through your clothes, "you're in it." He tosses a skirt on the bed. A white floral thing you never had the courage to wear. "You're not wearing sweats all day."

"That... I can't wear that--"

"Oh, you will," he insists. "It's Captain's orders."

[creepsterdreams]

TOUCHSTARVED LI’s reaction to you calling them a “good boy/baby”

Cw: Suggestive, Vere being a little brat, Leander being pathetic in a positive way, Ais denying the switch allegations

Author’s note: this was purely for my own amusement

You had ask the LI to grab something for you from the other side of the room, since you weren’t able to spare a moment to grab it yourself. Although kind of reluctant, they were happy to fulfill your request.

After bringing it you, you take it and set it down on the table where you were standing before thanking them. But before they could able to walk away, you reach up and pat them on the head, playfully smiling, and saying…

LEANDER

“Good boy.”

Leander’s eyes widen fast, obviously not guessing that response. But before you could let out an apology, his face turns as red as Vere’s hair and he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure.

“Hah…I…wasn’t expecting that from you.” He says shakily, his mind still flustered.

You laugh at his flushed face before speaking up again. “Yea I saw some people at the market calling their lovers that so I figured I’d test it out on you”

Leander lets out a breathy laugh again, watching closely as you go back to what you were doing before, growing antsy by the second. And after a few minutes of him just

“Hey MC?..”

“Hm?” You turn around to ask him what he needed but before you could get a word out, he leans down, shoving his face in your neck, his hands resting on your waist.

“Call me that again…please.”

AIS

“Good boy.”

Ais’s eyebrow rises almost automatically, questioning what you just said.

You look at him with a small that's everything but mischievous, clearly wanting to test this further. You pat him again on the head again, waiting a few seconds in between, wanting to see his reaction.

"Good boyyyy" you say in an exaggerated tone. However, in the midst of your giggling, Ais took it upon himself to grab your hand and bite it semi harshly.

You wince and snatch your hand back, glaring at him as he sends you his signature grin.

"If you want to be in charge here, you'll have to try harder than that sparrow."

KURAS

"Good boy."

Kuras pauses all movements, taking a long moment to simply look at you before chuckling quietly, his laugh bringing a smile to your face. He then removes your hand from his head and intertwines it with his own.

"Very funny dear. However, your flirtation skills could use some work."

And just as he's finished talking, he pulls you close to wrap an arm around your waist, smirking at your shocked expression.

He brings a hand up to your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb. Then he leans in close, so his lips were almost touching yours.

“There we are, so well behaved.” He whispers before finally signing off his words with a kiss.

Guess you caught each other off guard.

VERE

“Good boy.”

“Excuse me?” The words never left Vere’s mouth so fast, brows raised, and his tail fluffed up from the shock.

And with utmost confidence, you repeated yourself again "good boy."

Honestly if Vere didn't love you so much, he would bite your throat out at this second, then again, it was tempting.

"Haha...your soooo funny." He says, voice dripping with sarcasm. You smirk at his reaction, picking up the things you needed before getting up to walk away.

But as you're getting further away from the man, that's when you suddenly feel a harsh strike against your backside. Yelping, you turn around to glare at Vere, only scowling more when you see the "innocent" look on his face and his tail swaying at your irritated expression.

"What? I didn't do anything."

MHIN

"Such a good baby."

Mhin was already staring at you hard for patting them on the head, but now it seemed like that glare multiplied 2x when you said that.

Scoffing, they reach up to remove your hand from their head, turning away so you no longer can see their expressions.

"Was that really necessary?"

"Yeeep." You respond quickly, dragging the word out to annoy Mhin even further.

You hear another scoff before you see Mhin cross their arms, pointing their head towards the ground. That's when you smile again, getting close enough to say in their ear.

"Mhin, are you blushing?"

They turn away again, avoiding your gaze. There's your answer.

"You are blushing!" You yell happily as you wrap your arms around their shoulders, resting your head on their back.

"Shut up." They mumble, doing their best to hide the growing smile on their face.

[ohmyitsfaith]

The sunshine and the grump / Part 3

Pairing: Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: Your curiousity for the Umbrella Academy grows and after an argument with the Sparrows and your husband, you decide to seek some answers… alone.

Warnings: some arguments, slight angst, maybe?

Word count: 3.5k

A/n: thank you so much for liking this idea so much that you wanted to see it turn into a series. I can't explain how excited I am for this! Hope you enjoy!

You jogged up the stairs after being thrown out of Sparrows’ little meeting. You needed to figure out who this Jennifer was. You weren’t worried per se, you knew Ben was an asshole, but he wouldn’t cheat on you. The easiest explanation would be that she was Ben’s ex. In that case, it would be a matter of how the Umbrellas knew that. But then why would they call you, of all people, Jennifer?

Things didn’t really make much sense. Yet.

You opened the door to Ben’s old room. If there would be anything about this Jennifer that tied him to Ben, then it would be there. You looked around. Some books, clothes, a simple bed. Not much left there after you moved in. As you closed the door behind you, you saw that on the door was a drawing. It was a side profile of a woman. Looking at it from closer, there was a name written there. “Y/n.”

It honestly didn’t look much like your side profile, but there was some resemblance. You looked around at his desk. There was a notebook, its pages filled with notes about his training. Next to it, a travel guide, presumably from Sloane. A page was marked by a small slip of paper. Opening it, you saw that it was actually your honeymoon destination, with some places circled in red marker. You smiled at the memory, wishing for those happier times to be back.

Putting the book down, you pulled out one of the drawers on it. There were some papers, insignificant to your investigation. You did find a receipt from a bar. On it was the date of the first time you met him. You didn’t think Ben was the sentimental type, but maybe you were wrong.

You closed that drawer and looked at his dresser. Some old pictures of him and his siblings in their sparrow uniforms, back when they were just kids. You hummed, not sure why it was still there instead of in your room. But maybe Ben didn’t really want to remember the trauma that Reginald caused them by training them and sending them to dangerous missions even before they reached puberty.

Understandable.

You opened the first drawer. In it were clothes that Ben outgrew and hidden between his socks and underwear, a pack of condoms. You huffed a laugh and took it out, pocketing it for later. In the second drawer were his paints, brushes and papers.

“Wonder why he doesn’t paint anymore” you hummed, picking up some of his finished paintings.

They were quite good as well. Some about landscapes, some about people. There were abstract ones as well, all seemingly portraying dark feelings. Your heart ached for your husband. He was deeply traumatized, you knew that before you even met him. All the Sparrows were.

That was kind of why you were so thankful to be there. You tried to spend time with them when you weren’t working, trying to work through their traumas. Some of them were better off than others.

Of course, the hardest to work through was Ben. His mean exterior was at first a trauma response, but by now it became almost vital to his being. The only time he could really be who he was once upon a time, was when he was with you. Just you. In the safety of the four walls of your bedroom.

Maybe sometime in the future, he would be able to show his true colors. Maybe.

In the lowest drawer, you found some empty canvases. You flipped through them to see whether there were some paintings hidden there. But not finding anything, you pushed in the drawer. That’s when you heard the clatter. Something else was in the drawer.

You pulled it out again, and even though on the top, there was nothing, you reached into the drawer. Back as far as you could until you touched something. It felt like paper. You pulled your hand out and took every canvas out of the drawer. This time when you reached in, you could grab the paper.

Pulling it out, you saw that it wasn’t just one. It was a bunch. They were rolled up and held together by a rubber band.

“Why was this hidden?” you mumbled, confused.

Taking the rubber band off of it, you put the papers down on the floor, sitting in front of them. The first paper was a painting. A young woman with their back turned. They had your hair color.

The second paper was a side profile, like the one on the door. This one was more than line-art, it had color to it. They had their eyes closed, but once again, the hair color resembled yours.

The third one was of eyes. They were beautifully detailed and the color was almost the same as yours.

The fourth was of a hand. The fifth a painting of the same woman and a black void. The sixth was similar to the fifth, but the void had a form this time and the woman was reaching for it. The seventh was of the woman, but this time with a cat. The eighth was of the woman holding flowers, her face concealed by the flowers. The ninth of two hands holding each other. The tenth of the woman sitting alone in a bar, her back turned to the viewer, but everything else was a blur around her. She stood out. The eleventh was of the woman standing in front of a building.

And the twelfth and last one? That was the one that made you realize just what these paintings were. It depicted a woman lying on the floor, tiled exactly like the one at the store you met Ben. The woman was shadowed by a form standing in the way of the lights. A hand was also painted, reaching for the woman. But what stuck out was that the shadow showed tentacles and two of them holding two forms.

It was the day you met. Exactly like it happened.

In this painting as well, you could finally see your features reflected back to you. Your eyes, your lips, your nose and hair? It was all you. And so, the other pictures were from your relationship up until your getting together (presumably).

You went back to the paintings of you with the void. Was the void Ben? And you were reaching for him? Your heart ached for the man. He was clearly not of good opinion on himself.

“Oh darling…” you sighed, then shaking your head, you rolled up the papers.

You decided to take them with you. Even though you didn’t find anything about this Jennifer, you still feel like your search was somewhat successful. After all, you did find some paintings about you and Ben. Mostly you.

A couple hours later, when the sun had already set, you tried to find your husband. You searched for him in many places, your room, the kitchen, the training grounds, but couldn’t find him anywhere. You were almost ready to give up, when you heard one of Fei’s birds. You looked up at the sky, but couldn’t see where it could’ve come from. You headed inside the house, slightly shivering from being outside in only a T-shirt.

You turned to go up the stairs, when you heard the front door open. You looked back, right at Marcus.

“Hi Marcus” you greeted, but he only nodded in acknowledgment. Rolling your eyes, you turned back and headed up to the roof.

There, you finally found your husband. He was standing, looking down at the busy evening street.

“Hey there” you called out to him.

“Hi, Y/n” he turned to you, a small smile coming to his lips. He reached out, beckoning you. “What you got there?”

“I…” you looked down at the papers under your arm. “I’m sorry…”

“You’re sorry?” Ben’s eyebrows furrowed. “What for?”

“I went to your old room” you said, standing next to him, holding the papers. “I wanted to see if you had any information on this Jennifer, who the Umbrellas think…”

“You could’ve asked me” he said and you felt his irritation build.

“You were busy” you looked up at him meaningfully. “But anyway, I didn’t find anything about that. What I did find…” you offered the papers to him. “Were these paintings.”

Ben looked at your hands for a second, before reaching out and taking the paintings from you. He unfolded them.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop” you said quickly, your guilt eating at you. “I just… I found them, though they might be what I was searching for, but turns out they’re just paintings of… me.”

“These…” he said slowly. “You…”

“I’m sorry” you whispered.

“You shouldn’t have snooped around in my room” he sighed and you could tell that he was suppressing his anger.

“I know. I’m sorry. The only reason I took them anyway was because they looked so… full of emotions” you explained. “I know that’s not an excuse, but I just wanted you to know that I like them.”

“Okay” he took a deep breath. “I need to have a meeting with the other Sparrows.”

“Oh.”

“I think you should find Grace and eat dinner until we’re done.”

“Okay” you nodded, looking at your feet. “I’m sorry.”

With that, you left Ben on the roof. You knew you were at fault, so you didn’t blame him for reacting that way. So instead, you just looked for Grace as he advised. You would make it up for him, you were sure about that.

You looked in the kitchen, where Grace usually was. But she wasn’t there. So you looked in the washing area. But no one was there. By then, you were hungry as well, so you just made your own dinner instead.

But you barely took a bite out of it, when Sloane came running into the kitchen.

“Have you seen Marcus?” she asked, looking a bit frantic.

“No” you shook your head. “Not for the past thirty minutes. He has to be somewhere here though. I saw him coming in through the door. Why?”

“We can’t find him anywhere.”

“What?” you stood up immediately. “Nowhere? Even in his room?”

“That’s where we first checked” Sloane shook her head. “We also checked the training grounds, the rooftop, the living room. He’s nowhere to be found.”

“How can that be?” you followed her as she went back to the rest of the Sparrows. “I saw him come in!”

“Maybe the Umbrellas took him” Ben suggested.

“How could they?” you asked, confused. “Nobody has been inside the mansion since you kicked their butt.”

“Maybe they had a way to sneak in” Fei suggested. “They did arrive here without us noticing.”

“I don’t get it though. The alarms would’ve blared if they came in any way.”

“This is clearly their plan” Ben had enough of your guessing. “They took Marcus so they could take the mansion for themselves.”

“What? That’s ridiculous” you scoffed. “They looked pretty beaten, I doubt they would’ve done anything so soon.”

“How would you know, Y/n?” Ben said suddenly. “You’re not a superhero, you don’t know how fast they could heal.”

“Yeah” you agreed, slightly hurt by his tone. “But they didn’t seem the type…”

“The world isn’t so black and white as you see it” he interrupted you, which he never did before. “Now please, leave this discussion to the professionals.”

“I just wanted to help!”

“We don’t need your help, Y/n” he turned away from you and to the rest of the Sparrows.

You looked at him for a second, hurt by his words. Then you puffed your chest, “Fine” you said and then turned around.

You walked out of the room and headed straight for the door. If he didn’t need your help and you couldn’t ask his help, then you would help yourself.

When you reached Hotel Obsidian, the only place you knew would be your refuge, you didn’t even hope to find the Umbrellas there. But you were so thankful to see them. Not because you really trusted them, but at least you would get some answers.

“Hi, could I get a room for one?” you asked at the reception and offered the money to him.

“Here you go. Second floor, 25th” the receptionist gave you the key.

You sighed, then walked up to the three men, who were sitting around a table. You gathered all your strength, all the asshole energy that you learned from the Sparrows and all your rage that filled you when Ben shut you down.

“Hey Umbrellas” you greeted.

“Um…” the big guy, Luther, if you remembered well was looking at you dumbly, his mouth full.

“Oh, hi! Jennifer” the guy who wore a cowboy hat, when he was there at the academy was no longer wearing it.

“Not Jennifer” you pointed out. “I’m Y/n.”

“Oh yeah, you did say that, sorry about that” he laughed airily. “I’m Klaus. And these are Luther and Diego” he said pointing at the big guy first and then at wallmart-batman.

“Oh, hi” you greeted them as well, your strength leaving you for a bit. “Actually I came to ask about that.”

“About what?” Diego asked, his mouth full.

“You keep calling me Jennifer” you looked at them. “Why?”

“Oh…” they looked at each other. “Actually, that’s a long story. Maybe we should talk about that in the morning?” Klaus offered.

“I mean… sure” you nodded, saddened by his offer, but also a little relieved. Your heart was already beating fast in your chest and didn’t know how long you could hold on.

“How did you know we would be here?” Luther asked, when he finished his food.

“Oh, I didn’t” you shook your head. “I just… well kinda ran away from home.”

“Was it horrible there?” Klaus leaned in, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I would understand, Ben here is an asshole.”

“Actually, he’s my husband” you defended him. “He’s not bad, but… yeah, today he was on edge as well.”

“He’s your what now?” Diego blinked, surprised by your revelation.

“My husband.”

“Oh, yeah! Forgot that Ben-er-ino got married, that’s so cute!” Klaus clapped his hands. “Oh, then you’re our sister-in-law!” he gasped.

“Uh…” you blinked. “I’m not though? You guys… I don’t know how you know my husband, but…”

“I’ll explain in the morning” Klaus interrupted, standing up. “But now, my bed is calling me. Excuse me.”

You watched him go, blinking confusedly. “Is he always like this?” you turned to the other two.

“You’ll get used to it” Luther sighed then got up as well. “Hey, uh… is Sloane okay?”

“Y-yeah” you nodded.

“Good…” Luther said slowly. “Well, I’ll be going… good night.”

“I guess” you sighed and then headed to your own room.

In the morning, you headed down for breakfast, only to find Klaus, Diego and the little guy, Five if your memory is correct, already there.

“Good morning, sister-in-law!” Klaus greeted you enthusiastically.

“Again, I’m not- whatever” you sighed, shaking your head. Instead you grabbed a few of the breakfast items and sat down at their table.

“What are you doing here?” Five asked.

“Trouble in paradise” Klaus supplied instead of you. “She had a fight with her husband, Ben. Can you believe? Our Ben! Married!”

“Well, he’s not our Ben” Five corrected. “Our Ben is dead, remember?”

“He’s what?!” you exclaimed, shocked.

“Oh yeah” Klaus nodded, gazing into the void. “He died when he was seventeen.”

“That’s why we were so shocked to see him. And you” Diego explained.

“Me?!”

“Oh yeah” Klaus sighed. “The whole thing started with Ben getting to know Jennifer when we were sneaking out at night. They knew each other for about a year before Jennifer was affected by some… let’s just say unknown substance that turned her into a monster. The umbrella academy was called to help and then… one thing followed the other and Ben died” Klaus rushed to the end, clearly uncomfortable with the memory.

“Ah…” you nodded after a little bit of silence. “So… she was the cause? And I…”

“You look a lot like her” Klaus nodded. “But you aren’t her! You’re Y/n.”

“Yeah” you nodded.

“Where’s Luther?” Vanya suddenly approached the table. “And why is she-”

“Probably out for… a run” Diego looked her up and down. And there was a good reason for his reaction. She got a haircut.

“Ooh! Love the haircut!” Klaus smiled.

Vanya smiled appreciatively, then looked at you. “So, why are you here?”

“Uh… ran away from home” you said simply.

“Good, ‘cause I talked to Marcus last night” she said, mostly looking at the rest of the Umbrellas.

“Oh… so he was with you?”

“Wait, what? You talked to the enemy?” Diego asked, not looking at you.

“Well technically aren’t you doing the same?” Vanya asked. “And anyway, somebody had to do something.”

“Y/n is different though” Klaus waved his hand around, but clearly there was already a lot of tension between Diego and Vanya.

“Who elected you Vanya?” he asked.

“It’s uh… Viktor.”

“Who’s Viktor?” Diego furrowed his brows.

For a moment you watched as they all thought deeply.

“I am” Vanya- Viktor said finally.

“Oh” you whispered in understanding.

“It’s who I’ve always been” he looked around at everyone. “Uh… is that an issue for anyone?”

“No I’m cool” Diego said.

“Yeah, me too. Cool” Klaus smiled.

“Truly happy for you, Viktor” Five said softly, then raised his eyebrows. “But last time I checked, you don’t speak for the family.

“Okay, well, it’s fine, okay? Marcus totally gets it” Viktor sat down.

“Does he?” you scoffed. Marcus was the only Sparrow you couldn’t see eye-to-eye with.

“Well, he doesn’t want a war any more than we do” he tried to explain.

“Doesn’t he?” you furrowed you eyebrows.

“Even though Y/n doesn’t belong here, I have to agree with her” Diego looked at you for a split second. “He tried to homicide us!”

“Well… so did Lila and you had a kid with her” Klaus added.

“That’s not the point!” Diego put his hand up.

“Listen, we made a deal” Viktor interrupted them. “He’s gonna give back Five’s briefcase, then we’re gonna get out of the timeline!”

“Will he?” you asked, doubtful.

“Yes, we’re gonna meet later today for the, uh, the handover” he confirmed.

“Listen, Marcus tells me nothing, but I know him” you stopped him. “This is a trap. He won’t give nothing to you, maybe a bit of beating.”

“If he tells you nothing, then you clearly have no say in whether or not he will give us the briefcase” Viktor looked at you, glaring.

“Honestly, he doesn’t look like the type to just give it to you” Diego agreed with you. “But I say we turn this on them! We can fight them, wipe them out!”

“Hey! That’s my family you’re talking about!” you glared at Diego.

“Does it look like I care?” Diego scoffed.

“You’re going to do none of that” Viktor stopped him. “You couldn’t anyway.”

“Hey!”

“Yeah, instead, how about you bond with your spawn?” Klaus offered.

“Alleged spawn!” Diego corrected him.

“I will get the briefcase” Viktor spoke a bit louder, so the others would pay attention to him. “And then we’ll go back and fix the timeline.”

“Hey! We’re not going anywhere!” Five denied immediately. “This is a perfectly acceptable timeline!”

“Yeah, why don’t you go tell that to Allison, who’s upstairs, grieving her daughter, who doesn’t even exist here!” Viktor raised his voice.

“Not to mention we’ve been replaced by a bunch of blobs and cubes and birds and shit!” Diego commented.

“Hey! That’s my family!” you glared at him for the second or third time since the discussion started.

“I don’t care!” Diego raised his voice. “You’re all a bunch of assholes!”

“You know nothing about us!” you growled.

“Newsflash, geniuses! This isn’t about us!” Five yelled. “Take a look around. If you hadn’t noticed, there’s no doomsday! There’s no apocalypse. The sun is shining! Birds are doing whatever the hell birds do. That’s all that matters. We’re done messing with time” he took a breath. “And I’m officially retired.”

He got up, leaving your table. You thought only for a second, then got up to follow him.

“Hey, wait!” you yelled after him. “Five, right?”

“Yeah” he nodded. “What do you want?”

“Well…” you blinked. “I just… you seem like the only one who knows about all this time-space thing…”

“Yeah” he nodded, seeming impatient.

“I just… I wanted to ask you…”

“Spit it out!”

“What would happen to us if you did go back?” you rushed out, then took a breath. “If you changed the timeline… Would we all…”

“Die?” he asked and you nodded. “I wouldn’t worry about that. If we changed the timeline, you wouldn’t even exist. Meaning you wouldn’t remember any of this.”

“Oh” you looked down at your shoes.

“Well if that’s all…” he started, when suddenly the power went out.

Though it came back immediately, you saw the way Five looked around. Was this a bad sign?

[Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

Taglist: @snixx2088, @lxkeeeee, @kimm4710, @popstarbarbiee, @inkedeye2345, @sagestack, @koshi-sama

[dirty-bosmer]

Wip Wednesday

tagged by @sulphuricgrin @hircines-hunter @silly-little-diary @bostoniangirl21 @theoneandonlysemla @skyrim-forever @saltymaplesyrup

Thank you, my lovely talented mutuals <3 I am tagging: @gilgamish @ladytanithia @kookaburra1701 @elavoria @sylvienerevarine @unironicallytes @miliabyntite @inkysqueed @pocket-vvardvark @moriche @heavy-metal-dick @pyre-of-pages @throughtrialbyfire @babyblueetbaemonster

Finally felt motivated to work on my Skyrim fic. It's been a while, and I've miss my horrible little necromancer brat, so here's a snip from upcoming chapter 8 of Slither and Writhe.

After a traumatic start to her journey in Skyrim, Sylawen wakes up in Whiterun:

But an hour or so later, Sylawen was not so much falling asleep as she was floating awake, buoyed in a state of mindless boredom. I knew Danica gave me the weak stuff, she bemoaned and turned over in her cot to stare at the temple ceiling. More intrusive brightness poured in from the high windows, flooding her eyes until she was forced to squint. It must have been midday at least, the light so clean and golden. Buttery almost, like she could spread it on toast. The longer she lay bathed in the sun's rays, the easier it was to welcome the warmth, yet Sylawen found herself reluctant to fully acknowledge the days beauty while feeling like a pile of squashed scrib. Still, she kept her eyes trained on the window, because she’d been staring at the walls for so long that she was beginning to find faces in the wood grains. Her Mother. Rillion. Tazara. Thrynn. Did anyone know where she was? Did anyone care? Hells, she knew no more than what Danica had told her, that she was at the Temple of Kynareth in Whiterun (wherever that was). Dorand would have known, if he were still alive, and in thinking of him and his savage end, the spit in Sylawen’s mouth grew thin.  There was so very little that had kept her from meeting the same fate, and even now, starved and beaten and reeling from fever, she could hardly believe she’d brushed so close to death. How did one day in Skyrim end so catastrophically?  Eight, I hate this place. As if she needed to remind herself again. She’d told Mother that sending her to Skyrim was a mistake, and for once in maybe all of Sylawen’s life, she was not pleased to be proven correct. A finch or sparrow or some such winged creature darted past the window in a blur. It landed on the eave frames beneath the temple roof, appeared to be building a nest, weaving strands of grass with its beak. Sylawen watched it, given there was nothing else for her to do. Well at least someone likes it here.  “Oh, you’re still awake.”  Craning her neck, Sylawen found Danica approaching from the back door, wiping the dirt from her hands with a rag. She’d just come in from the garden, and bundles of freshly harvested lavender overflowed the basket on her arm.  “Regretfully,” Sylawen replied. “Well, good because someone’s here to see you.” “Not like this, they aren’t.”  Danica did not look amused. “It’s one of the Companions who brought you in.” Sylawen still didn’t know what that meant— a Companion— and could only recall fuzzy images of yesterday. A looming giant. A woman with jagged green scars. A man with eyes made of ice. “I-I’m in no state for someone to see me,” she said, raking one hand through her knotted hair and feeling the sudden need to cover her belly. “Tell them I’m not taking any visitors.”  “He was asking about you this morning too. You might consider it polite to offer thanks, if they still have manners down in Cyrodiil that is.”

[panda-writes-kpop]

Hiiii hope your having a wonderful day. I enjoy reading your scenarios especially dreamcatcher and aespa. Which made me wonder if I can request aespa as your pirate GF :o

Pirate! Aespa as Your Girlfriend

a/n: Thank you for the lovely message, anon! I'm so glad you love my aespa and dreamcatcher stuff 🫶 and of course you can, dear! Hopefully, you enjoy this! Obligatory tag of @foolish-sparrow ❤️ can't write about pirates without acknowledging the Pirate AU queen! Please check out all of her stuff because it's all so amazing 🫶🫶 also I tried something new with the banners, so let me know if you like it or not!

tw: it's in order of how the girls are introduced in the Pirate AU fic universe (no, I have not forgotten about Giselle or Ningning I will be getting back to them plz have patience with me 🫠) instead of age order, booze and drunken activities, violence, pirating and other forms of stealing

♡ Masterlist ♡

Winter ~ The Captain

she's always busy as the Captain of the Red-Haired Pirates, either trying to corral her crew (mostly Karina and Giselle) or find the next place or ship to plunder.

but for you? she has all of the time in the world.

You're very famously known as her soft spot on the crew, and people will use it to their advantage.

Of course she knows this, but if you're going to continue to kiss her and whisper sweet nothings in her ear... she'll let the shenanigans slide, for now.

Winter likes to show you off, whether by letting you commit the finishing blow on an opponent or giving you a chance to show off your own unique set of skills

Most of the time you spend together is at night when you're out at sea.

She'll be busy looking over the a map or checking some coordinates when you wrap your arms around her waist

a rare smile appears on her face as you state out at the open ocean together.

"Where are we going, my lovely Captain?"

"As long as you're by my side, wherever the seas take us, my dear."

Karina ~ The Marksman

the loser (affectionate) marksman by day, the greasy (slightly drunk) flirt by night finds herself changing her ways as you two enter a serious relationship.

Karina feels much more comfortable being her dorky, usual self when it's just the two of you alone, but as your relationship progresses, more and more people see a different side of her

if you aren't a marksman like her, she takes you to a local shooting range and teaches you everything you need to know

"You need to aim a little higher on the target, otherwise you won't do much more than give them a good scare."

"I'd love to focus my aim, Karina, but you're making my heart pound when you're this close to me."

Karina is well-known on her crew for her drunken antics, especially with the various people she meets during her travels

It all stops with you - either you're watching her to make sure she doesn't get absolutely wasted, or you're the one participating in her antics while you're both drunk.

If it's the first option, you're able to pull her away from the bar with lots of affectionate or promises of stronger booze on the ship (you just send her straight to bed, and she's too tired to argue)

If it's the latter, you two often find yourselves cleaning the decks in order to avoid Winter's wrath due to the shitstorm that you usually cause.

But hey, at least you have someone to cuddle with as you nurse your hangover away.

Giselle ~ The Arms Specialist/Mapmaker

Pulling double duty on the ship takes a toll on the amount of free time Giselle has, but when she has a free night, you can be sure that she's living it up, especially with you at her side.

You'll literally have her heart forever if you help her with her daily tasks, she's so stressed out with everything on her plate.

Depending on your specialties, you're either marking the map or helping with coordinates, or you're cleaning up gun powder and restocking the gunroom with newly pillaged supplies.

It works in Giselle's favor because she always can find a reason to talk with you when you're working on similar tasks.

"Do you need some help, darling?"

"I think I can handle myself, Giselle, but I don't mind the company."

After the ship has docked and the sun has disappeared from the sky, Giselle is finally free from most of her responsibilities.

She's dragging you to the nearest bar, either to hustle some of the crew at cards or to grab a few drinks.

You tell her that it's unfair to play cards against people you can't even sit straight, but you find that your concerns are silenced when a bottle of your favorite liquor is sitting at your side.

And if you're just grabbing drinks with her, she's sure to tell you how much she loves you (and all of the awesome pirating stories you missed out on before you started dating).

Ningning ~ The "Rogue" Mercenary

The quiet, withdrawn "misfit" in the crew isn't drawn to having a friendly relationship to many on the crew, except for you, of course.

She hasn't fully adjusted to the pirating life, considering that she joined the crew after being held captive by them, so she often is quietly looking over your shoulder to understand how to be more useful aboard the ship

"You can come closer, it's easier to learn how to tie a knot when you can see what I'm doing."

"I can see fine from where I'm at, but thank you for the offer."

You invite her to many of the crew's nighttime activities, and it's rare for her to accept, but when she does, you see her cracking a smile and occasionally laughing at everyone's antics.

Ningning likes spending time with you one-on-one, and that's when she confesses her feelings for you.

Literally no one knows that the two of you are together, except for a drunk Karina that saw the two of you embrace one night (and no one believes her, to this day).

She doesn't like to teach you her trade, she went through a lot of shit to get her skills, but she will show you how to fight if you aren't the greatest at it.

You'll just have to put your pride to the side because she will beat your ass, every time, without fail.

Plus, she can steal a kiss or two while she has you pinned to the ground. She lectures you about not being distracted with a smirk on her face, as if it isn't her fault.

[finnofamerica]

Smile at the Bottom of the Bottle - Jack Sparrow x Reader | Smut

Summary: Jack cheers up the reader with a little special treat (A/n: lol)

Word Count: 780

Date Posted: 03.22.24

Prompt: Can i request a jack x reader were jack sees the reader having a bad day and decides to try and drink her/their (idc if its fem or neutral:D)troubles away. So jack tries to cheer them up and he turns it dirty;) if not that's okay to:)

TW: AFAB Language was used, with P in V penetration.

Note: N/a

🔞MINORS DO NOT INTERACT🔞

|| Masterlist || Request Here || Fandoms/ Characters || Req by @1deadpool26

Being part of Jack’s crew was always an adventure. There never seemed to be any rhyme or reason for his actions, yet somehow, things seemed to work out in his favor more often than not. Like Gibbs, you were loyal to Jack. Unlike Gibbs, your unwavering loyalty landed you marooned with Jack during the original mutiny. 

And again, now after Barbossa dropped you, Jack, and Elizabeth on the very same island. 

“Here,” Jack handed you a bottle, thunking down on the sand next to you and the small fire you had built. Elizabeth was out wanding the beach, doing god knows what; you didn’t care. It's not that you didn’t like Elizabeth; it's just that you didn’t care much about what she did. It’s the bed she made; she’s gotta lay in it. 

“Thanks,” You took the bottle, taking a long swig. You didn’t have to tell Jack that it was a shitty day; he was feeling it too. 

“Give me a smile, Love,” Jack caressed your cheek, “You know I hate it when you’re sad.” 

“Not much to smile for, Jack,” you countered, shaking your head. “We’re stuck here again.” 

“Aye, but we’re together.” He leaned in to whisper in your ear, kissing the lobe. You sighed, relaxing into his familiar touch. With his free hand, he stroked your bodice, making his way to your corset ties and undoing them swiftly. Once untied, he unclipped it, letting fall loose to the sand. “And I know what will make you smile.” 

You rolled your eyes but made no move to stop him, letting undo the ties that held up your well-fitted trousers. Jack slid his hand down your pants, finding your sensitive clit with precision, using two fingers to rub it in slow, deliberate circles. 

You couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips, rocking your hips up against his finger.  You lost yourself in the feeling of him pressed against you as he continued to kiss down your neck to your collarbone, leaking little hickies and bruises in his wake, claiming you. 

“You’re a tease,” You growled at him, “Man up and fuck me like you mean it.” 

Jack just laughed at your frustration and pulled your pants around your ankles, making just enough space for him to get between them, repeating the action for his own trousers, freeing his long, thin member. He lined himself up with your entrance, sliding in with ease as you moaned. It had been a while since the last time he’d sunk his cock in you; you had missed the feeling. 

He gripped your hips, propping them up against his, forcing you to lay back on the sand. Jack rocked gently into you, allowing you to warm up to his intrusion. Slowly but steadily, he began picking up the pace, sloppily kissing anywhere he could reach. 

“Jack,” You moaned, hiding your face in your arm. His hand shot out, gripping your jaw as he forced your eyes to his. 

“Don’t hide,” His smile bordered on sadistic. “I want to see your pretty face as you moan for me.” 

Jack adjusted his positioning, hitting that spot that never failed to make you squeal and writhe beneath him. It felt amazing, but purposely, it wasn’t enough to get you to tumble over that edge. It only got you riled up until you were teetering on the edge of the cliff, waiting for the gust of wind to send you over. 

“I swear, Jack, if you don’t make me cum, I will shoot you,” You threatened, arching you back into him, craving more than he was giving you. 

Again, he laughed, reaching under your shirt to tease your taut nipples. Every pinch sent waves of painful pleasure through your body, right down to where that hot coil was tightening at the base of your stomach. 

“Fuck, Jack,” You moaned again, brows furrowed in concentration, willing yourself to fall over that edge. You let out slow breaths, each inhale making your pleasure burn hotter, and the coil tightens. “Fuck, Jack, I’m gonna cum.” 

“Come for me,” Jack demands as you stumble over the cliff, the coil bursting as aftershocks roll through you. Your pussy clenches around his cock as you spasm, the sensation forcing him to the edge. 

Swiftly, Jack pulls out, only managing to stroke himself once or twice before he spurts thick beads of cum over your exposed stomach. He collapsed next to you, using his shirt to clean you up. 

“I knew I’d make you smile.” He grabbed the abandoned bottle, taking a long swig. You just hummed in response, eyes closed in satisfaction, a soft smile on your lips. 

“I guess you did.” 

Tags: @1deadpool26

[llxferim]

a/n: STOP WHOLE 15 ACTUAL HUMAN BEINGS LIKED MY POST AND 1 EVEN REBLOGGED IT GDHSG THANK YOUU!?? umm alsoo I meant to post this yesterday but I debated on it cuz it's so small😭 I do have my requests open, I write for anyone as long as I have watched the show so just send in the requests and I’ll tell you if I write for them! (gonna have to do this before I have the time to write down every single character that I write for 😭)

pairings: Klaus Hargreeves x reader

Summary: you have to meet up with Five and Diego but Klaus won’t let you go without a kiss (or a few).

genre: fluff

Warnings: explicit language, idk its fluff man

Word Count: 553 (ik ik its small)

You and the Umbrellas just got your ass handed to you by the sparrows, so you were in some random park rethinking your life choices. Your head rested on Klaus’s shoulder while Five walked back and forth, lost in thought.

“I can’t believe Dad replaced us in this timeline,” Luther said, slumping on the bench.“is it that hard to believe it, Luther?” Five shot back with his usual sarcastic tone. “What are we going to do now?” you asked softly, tracing your finger along Klaus’s hand.

Allison let out a sigh, crossing her arms “Well we definitely can’t sit in the middle of this park, bleeding out”

“I don’t know, but we’d better gear up fast before they come for round two,” Diego began, but you interrupted before he could spiral into his usual rant. “Calm down, Batman. We need to find a place to stay first.”

“Let’s think of someplace off the radar,” Five suggested, stepping forward. “Yeah? What kind of weird place are we not going to draw attention to?” Diego challenged.

“Well,” Klaus suddenly sprang up, startling you. “Actually, I might know a place.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Five sighed and then turned to you as Klaus plopped back down. “You, Diego, and I are going to go gear up while Klaus takes the rest of them to this ‘place.’ Sound good?” The group agreed without much debate, exhaustion rendering them too tired to argue.

***

As Five and Diego went off to grab some food—courtesy of Diego’s relentless nagging—Allison headed out to find a phone to call Claire, with Viktor. That left you, Klaus, and Luther behind in the park.

You stood up from the bench. “Five will murder me if I don’t catch up with them. I’m off,” you groaned.

You leaned in and gave Klaus a quick kiss. Just as you were about to pull away, he gently tugged you back. “One more?” he asked, his face sporting a smug grin. You giggled and leaned in for another kiss, expecting to break away, but Klaus kept you close. “Again?” he said, still with that mischievous smile.

You rolled your eyes but found yourself unable to resist his charm. He began planting a series of quick, playful kisses on you. “I” kiss “have” kiss “to” kiss “go” kiss.

Finally, Klaus pulled back, and Luther made a dramatic gagging noise, turning away. “I think I’m going to puke,” he said, clearly unimpressed. “One more and I’ll leave you alone,” Klaus insisted, his eyes now large and pleading.

“Seriously, Klaus—” you started, but he cut you off “Just one more,” he begged, giving you his best puppy eyes.

You sighed, feeling a mix of exasperation and affection. “Fine, but make it quick. I don’t want to hear Five's nonsense anymore than I have to.” As you gave in, Klaus kissed you again, but this time it was longer and deeper, a more heartfelt connection that lingered far beyond the playful exchanges before.

When he finally pulled away, you were breathless, the intensity of the kiss leaving you slightly disoriented. Klaus looked at you with a satisfied grin, and Luther cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable.

“Alright, enough of this,” he protested, “any more and i will actually throw up on you both”

Klaus reluctantly lets you go, and you hurry off.

[lowkeyrobin]

Heyyyy, could you write a Morgie (Descendants) x villain reader that’s platonic? Something like the two of them pulling pranks or just being a mischievous duo, thank you <3

YESYESYESYESSSSSSS ; genuinley thank you for this omgomgomg literally so excited rn ; thank you for requesting!! hope you enjoy and I hope I did this justice!! ; also I rlly hope we see more of him in pt2/they release that shit quick because we did not see enough of the younger villains..

MORGIE LE FAY ; tricksters

summary ; you and morgie love to pull pranks on the AK's because you're villains, what else would you be doing? baking cupcakes?

warnings ; language, slight fictional violence, slight bullying

word count ; 262

masterlist

you LOVE playing pranks and being a little mischievous and chaotic with morgie

he's just that guy to do it with

plus he finds it funny, you do too

a lot of times, he'll scare people with his serpentine powers

he'll threaten to send snakes upon them, or spit at them considering his venom causes hallucinations and delusions

think the one girl from the sparrow academy in the umbrella academy iykyk

we don't know much about his powers so I'm making shit up if it wasn't obvious

if you have any powers, you're the same way, actually summoning them most the time if they're simple

anything like telekinesis, pyrokinetics, teleportation, etc, something that's at your fingertips

bringing out the big guns for a prank isn't fun

a lot of times you end up actually hurting people

minor injuries included!

but most the time it's actually an accident cause yall suck at communicating, mostly hurting each other

lots of buckets to the head and hallucinations given

you'll often sneak into the student kitchens to steal magical ingredients and sneak them into innocent people's food and drinks

entertaining show!

to say you saw ulinana turning into a flamingo beforehand was an understatement

you both decided to let it be cause you weren't gonna talk her out of it, plus it was funny as fuck

"morgie, grab the glitter!"

"which color??"

"whatever you want bridget to be covered in. no silver, white or pink. she can make it look good"

"okay. do you want the glue too?"

"yup"

dumping slime and glitter on people is funny trust

[lilas]

What’s in my OC’s bag?

Tagged by @zylphiacrowley thank you so much! This was fun to do. I went a little overboard and it turned into this silly series of gposes.

Tagging @coldshrugs @oschonseleven @thevikingwoman @hythlodaes @lilbittymonster @scionshtola @lavampira @iron-sparrow @galadae to share if they want to! As please join if I didn’t tag you and you want to do this!

Currently, Avi’li’s splits his time between Kozama’uka and Shaaloani, traveling with Erenville, and I will answer with this in mind!

what’s in avi’s bag?

Items he’s in immediate need of or things that he needs to watch closely are kept in his personal bag.

Personal traveling essentials (canteen, back up canteen, rations, emergency flare, compass, etc)

Maps (both treasure and local maps)

Journal - he takes field notes for Erenville, especially regarding nocturnal life of whatever area they’re in

Weapons ! - He travels with his Skyruin Cleavers, Lunar Envoy Tathlums, and the nouliths he made out of silverware

A Hinganshi paper lantern - this is the lantern Piera, Avi’s voidsent avatar, sleeps in when she’s not fully corporeal or imitating a weapon

Small sack of gil

what does he keep in otes’s chocobo saddlebags?

Items needed for long travels, but don’t necessarily need to be readily available, are kept in Otes’s saddlebags.

Bedding and tent supplies

Treats and food for Otes and Mamemaru - the food is for emergencies or for days they can’t hunt

First aid kit - includes numbing ointment for his hands

Stationary - Avi’li is trying to get better at sending letters to distant friends and family on the regular

One or two books to stave off boredom

Two more sets of clothes

Climbing gear

Slightly bigger sack of gil

Extremely basic cooking gear - a single pot, salt, stackable bowls

Mending gear for clothes, boots, saddles, etc

what does he keep in his second bag aka what does erenville carry for him because he forgets?

Avi’li is an experienced traveler so he’s mostly prepared, however he and Erenville have different experiences and priorities when it comes to packing for the road.

Traveling first aid kit - sure Avi’li has his nouliths, but nothing beats a kit in the field in Erenville’s opinion

Flashlight - not everyone has night vision !

Firestarter kit - not everyone can breathe fire !

Mostly Erenville is carrying his own things though, but they share their canteens and rations if the other needs it

Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: it's saturday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You follow the king into the great hall. Despite the sun beaming in through the open doors and the chirping of sparrows from the courtyard, it is a dour affair.  

King Geralt marches across the hall as you stand by a tall candelabra near the door. It remains unlit as the summer lights much of the space through the long windows and broad doors. He approaches the bishop in his robe and sash and points the man with a terse grunt. Lord Dustan and Lady Rozlyn stand behind the cleric, looking fraught. 

“Where is the bride?” The king growls as his golden eyes skim the stone walls. 

“Your highness, we’ve just called for her--” 

“She is aware of our impending nuptials, she would keep her betrothed waiting?” The king rebukes, “you summer souls and your flimsy spines.” 

The duchess twitches in offence but does not rebuff the insult. The wine has subsided well enough to allow her some sense. Lord Dustan’s lips press tight and he claps. 

“My daughter, at once,” he hisses in your direction. 

Before you can turn on your sole, the king grunts, “fetch her yourself. How can I trust you to keep my kingdom in order if you cannot bring the same to your own house?” 

“Yes, your highness,” Dustan blanches, “it was only I thought it would be swifter to send the maid.” 

“It would be swifter if you stilled your tongue,” King Geralt barks. 

The duke recoils and hurries off. Your eyes meet the king’s and he gives a slight tilt of his head and you resume your plaintive stance. Lady Rezlyn looks him up and down before she withdraws her gaze and instead focuses on the portrait of her husband’s predecessor.  

The air grows stagnant as you wait. When at last a stirring comes from above, the king is gripping the dagger on his belt. He is not impressed with the delay. 

“Father, I am here, I am here, unhand me,” Lady Jazlene blusters in ahead of the duke. She wears the red and ivory and matching ribbons have been braided into her curls. She has several necklaces piled around her neck and her hands are adorned in tones of silver and gold. “I am ready,” she sighs as she approaches the bishop and face the king, “it is not the wedding I dreamt of but for a king, I might settle.” 

King Geralt’s golden eyes narrow. He looks through his bride and she wavers on her feet as she reaches for him. He does not offer his hand nor his arm before he faces the bishop. 

“The vows,” the king demands flatly. 

“Er,” the bishop falters and searches the chamber. 

“Where is the writ?” The king hisses, “do you not have a scribe?” 

“Here, your highness, here,” Dustan waves to a squire waiting near the outer doors. “It only requires ink and seal, after the vows of course.” 

The king exhales hotly and faces the bishop again, signaling with a curt flick of his fingertips. You only then notice Merinda across from you, she must’ve followed the noble daughter in. She exchanges a glance with you, she is not more amused than King Geralt. 

“Ahem,” the bishop adjusts his tall cap, “let us begin. We commune here today to--” The king waves his hand dismissively and the cleric flinches. “Hm, uh, sir, your highness, my lord, King Geralt, of Rivia and the Hinterlands, and the Summer countries,” he stutters as his eyes droop, “do you swear, by the sacred rites and the laws of the realm, to take this woman in blessed matrimony? To attend to your duties as husband and keeper, until death?” 

The ceremony is as brusque as anything the king does. He does not have time or patience for the pageantry or prolonged talking. His shoulders rise with his breath and he heaves out, “I make this vow.” 

“And, Lady Jazlene, daughter of Debray, do you swear, by the sacred rites and the laws of the realm, to take this man in blessed matrimony? To attend to your duties as wife and servant, until death?” 

Jazlene sniffles and makes a show of blotting her face with her sleeve. Her mother blubbers from the side and Lord Dustan hushes her. Their threatrics are almost humourous amid the solemn air. King Geralt rumbles and stares over the bishop’s head. 

“I... I make... I make this vow,” Jazlene bawls and pulls out a handkerchief from her bosom. She covers her nose and wipes away her tears. “I shall love the king and serve him better than any w-w-wife.” 

The bishop hesitates as he looks between the bride and groom. He nods and beckons forth Lord Dustan, “so we will seal this marriage in ink and wax. Sign your names and let the royal stamp be applied to set in bond your fates until the black night sees you to rest.” 

Dustan comes forward with the parchment and signals to another unseen figure. A servant brings forth a quill and well as the contract is laid out on the table near the wall. The king approaches as Jazlene weeps at his side, trailing after him as she trembles. The king signs first, with a slash of the quill, then Jazlene barely keeps hold of the pen as she loops her name across the rough surface. 

She drops the feather and fans herself. She looks around, preening, and grabs onto the king’s arm, “so we are married.” 

He doesn’t react. He turns without acknowledgement as she stays latched on, pulled forth by his easy strength. His gaze touches yours as you watch the strange and strained scene. This is unlike any wedding you’ve ever seen, though you haven’t seen a noble one in all your life. Only the whispered vows of servants behind the stables or in the meadows. Those ones that are only written in spirit. 

His eyes quickly flit away and he sets his sight on the doorway beside you. He walks forward with his bride dragging on his arm. His mail jostles loudly with his steps as his soles scuff. 

“Let the marriage be consummated,” he mutters without look back, “you will be ready to travel at dawn.” 

“Your highness?” Dustan stumbles forward, “dawn?” 

“Husband, am I to come with you?” Jazlene murmurs. 

“A kingdom must be rebuilt,” King Geralt states without inflection. “I will not rule over a resentful people, I will show them I fought for them, not against them. And you will follow through on your vows to me or find I am not so weak as that fool, King Waleran.” 

⚔️

You help Merinda with Lady Jazlene’s travel chest. You pack away as much as you can; shifts, nightclothes, gowns, stockings, all that you think she would like to take with her. The sudden departure allows you little time for ponderance, you only do as you must. As ever. So is life. 

“She will hate it in the Hinterlands,” Merinda scoffs, “when I served for the earl, there was a man from the Winter Isles. He was missing fingers from the cold. He told me how they turned black and fell off.” 

“Then she will need to find some mitts,” you shrug as you roll up a cloak. Much of the lady’s clothes are not suited to a colder climate. She has no furs; they are not needed in the Summer lands. Midsummer through to High Summer offer little more than a cooling rain between mild to sweltering highs. 

“Perhaps she should bundle up against her husband too,” Merinda snickers, “he is icy as the tundras he hails from.” 

“He is a king, he has much to worry for,” you sniff. 

“Mm, I suppose, though he hardly ever looks concerned for anything. Speaks even less,” she muses, “I suppose Lady Jazlene will speak plenty for both of them.” 

“Queen Jazlene,” you correct her bleakly. 

“Oh, he should worry for that,” the other maid chuckles again. “Though I suppose now she will have all the gowns she likes.” 

“Perhaps,” you allow. 

“Let us prosper here without her demands. Where it is warm and sunny,” Merinda sighs. 

“It will be rather quieter,” you agree. 

You carry on until the chest is near overflowing. You sit on the lid as Merinda buckles the straps. You will need some male servants to come carry it to the stables. That should wait until morning. Lady Rezlyn bid you wait in her daughter’s chamber should she emerge from the king’s. 

You pack a smaller chest for her jewels and her cosmetics, and a few books she’s worn down with her fingertips, and her sewing hoops and needles. Oft, she only holds onto those possessions as she gossips with her mother. You suppose that will be difficult. When the duchess and her husband return home and their daughter must face her obligation without ally. 

There are servants like Merinda who might covet gems and pretty things, but you’ve never much envied the noble type. They have overly much responsibility. You only need swab a floor or lace a dress. Life could not be simpler. 

“Hm,” she hums and gives a cluck of her tongue. 

You wind up a length of ribbon and put it in the chest. You feel Merinda watching you. You look up and arch your brows. “What?” 

She smiles, “you remind me of him.” 

“Who?” 

“The king,” she tinkles with laughter, “you are both so... quiet. You never say more than you need to. I can appreciate that given who we serve but you are a hard nut.” 

“I don’t have much to say, suppose,” you reply. “Don’t know very much of the king, either.” 

She’s quiet as you carry on. You assume some things will need to be sent after the lady; the queen. It will be a long journey and not one which you think would entail many banquets. It’s a scary unknown ahead of Lady Jazlene, though it is overdue. 

When the smaller chest is full, you and Merinda lift it onto the larger. It is late and the night hue surrounds you as only a single flame is lit. You yawn intermittently but neither of you dare lay down to sleep. You wouldn’t want to be accused of idleness. 

You sit on the window bench and watch the moon as Merinda paces through shadows. You rest your chin in your hand but only for a moment as suddenly the hinges groan and cut through the din. You stand as Merinda faces the door sharply. 

Lady Jazlene drifts in. The ribbons in her hair are loose and her dress is still laced tight, though her skirts are rumbled and wrinkled. She leaves the door ajar behind her as she ambles stiffly towards the bed. She turns to fall onto the bench at the foot of the four-post frame. 

She doesn’t speak as she stares ahead. Merinda shuts the door as you inch towards the noble woman. She offers no reaction as you hover near her. She presses her hands above her knees and shudders out a breath. 

“My lady,” Merinda speaks first, glancing at you cautiously, “your highness, would you... would you like a bath?” 

Jazlene doesn’t answer. Her head moves subtly back and forth then dips again. She balls fabric in her fists. 

“I did what mother said,” she croaks, “and... I was... I was aroused. I was ready...” she murmurs. 

You and Merinda stand in silence. You’ve never heard the noble daughter speak so smally. She lifts her head. 

“I did it. I did my duty,” she declares, “but he...” she rises and you back away as she sweeps around the bed, a hitch in her step. She goes to the mirror and leans in, touching her cheeks, turning her head this way and that, “I’m beautiful, aren’t I? Mother says, father says... but the king... the king...” 

She blows out her breath and is silent. She spins and clutches her bodice. She looks down at herself. 

“He didn’t even let me take this off,” she babbles, “then he just... sent me away.” She puts her hand to her chest, “a bath? Did you say a bath?” She looks at Merinda, “yes, I must wash. Wash it all away.” She clears her throat and drops her hand, rolling her shoulders, “tomorrow we must leave--” her voice catches, “I must go to my new home with my...” she puts her back to you and sits on the cushioned seat before the vanity, “...husband.” 

You nod to Merinda and cross the room to meet her at the door. You share a look, one which doesn’t need conversation. Even though she’s laid with a man, your fellow maid looks distressed. You go out into the hall, pulling shut the door gently in the nocturnal dim. 

“Do you think he was cruel?” Merinda asks. 

“It isn’t our concern, is it? It is a wife’s duty...” you whisper, uncertain. 

“It was her first,” Merinda remarks, “perhaps she was unready.” 

“We shouldn’t speak of it,” you gird. 

“You needn’t be so chaste,” she reproaches, “if I didn’t know her wrath, I might even feel sorry for the lady.” 

“Mer,” you warn again, “let us get some water for the bath.” 

Merinda chuffs, “you are so... boring.” 

You walk away from her, ignoring her chiding. You don’t care if she thinks you dull. It isn’t your place to judge the marital matters of the lady and her husband. It is even dangerous to gossip over royal business. You will not chance it. 

She follows. You descend and go to boil a pot in the kitchen. Merinda lights several candles as you go to work. You carry the large vessel between you. Several trips up and down to fill the large tub. Merinda undresses Jazlene as you go to return the pot. 

You place it near the fire stove as the embers burn low and orange. You stand in front of it, the cindery scent tinging your nostrils. You should go back but unease lingers in your gut. The way Jazlene just stared, how hollow she sounded, you’ve never seen her like that. 

The candles behind you flicker and you turn to the swirling shadows. There’s a figure just inside the doorway, almost ghostly, much too towering to be the cook. You gulp and fold your hands against your stomach. 

“Hello?” You utter to what must be a wraith. 

There is no answer, the silhouette merely moves towards you. You steel yourself, a scream caught in your throat. The tint of the fire stove reflects off golden irises and the king’s figure comes clearer in the night. You suck in air and steady your feet. 

“Your highness,” you gasp. 

“Ale,” he sneers. 

“Yes, your highness, I will fetch--” 

“To my chambers,” he demands, looming over you. 

“Yes, your highness, ale, at once,” you go to spin and he grabs onto your arm, drawing you back. He grips tightly, squeezing as he pulls you into the haze of warmth radiating from him. Or perhaps that is the oven. 

He holds you, puffing out breaths as he glares down at you. You’re trapped in his simmering sights. You look up at him, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. He lets out a low snarl and slowly releases you. 

“I hate these summer lands,” he grumbles as you stagger back. 

You still and stare as he backs away. He turns on his heel and stalks towards the door, leaving you in frightful curiosity. You open and close your fingers, your forearm tingling from his firm grasp. You rub it through your sleeve as you spin towards the cellar. You will be certain to grab a full cask for the king’s thirst. 

[hearts-hunger]

evergreen — part five

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Series Summary: Jake takes you on your first vacation to the cabin the gang stays at every year. When memories of past relationships loom heavy, will this vacation send cracks through the foundation of safety and trust you have in each other?

Chapter Summary: In your love nest, you and Jake heal every hurt.

Pairings: Jake x Reader, Josh x Baby, Sam x Danny | Genre: fluff, emotional h/c | Word Count: 2.5k | Warnings: sexual innuendo, smoking

A/N: The last chapter of this little fic! I'm so thankful for all the love you've showered on Jake and Sparrow, despite how silly they've been. I hope this chapter is everything you're hoping for! ♡

Coming into the tent was a tangle of something shy and gentle and cautious, wet hair plastered to your faces and shared looks of love and longing and apology as you tried to figure out what to say to each other. You both knew you needed to talk, but for a while, there was nothing but the sound of the rain; he helped you out of your boots and jacket, setting them neatly in the corner of the tent. You sat together in the doorway, watching the rain, smoking a few cigarettes from the crumpled pack from his jacket pocket.

“Thank you for my love nest,” you said. You brushed his wet, curly hair back from his face. “You didn't have to do all this, Jake. And in the middle of the night and in the rain, too.”

“I wanted to,” he said. “I wanted you to have a place that was just for you. You’re everything to me, and you deserve something from me that I haven't shared with anyone else.”

You knew you already had something from him that belonged to the two of you alone, and it wasn't your love nest, as wonderful as it was. You knew you had him, had his heart in a way that no one else ever had, just like he had yours.

A bruise showed on his neck, and you reached a cautious hand out to brush your fingers over it.

“I’m sorry, Jake,” you said softly. “All that — it was stupid. And it was my fault.”

He gave a rueful smile. “Takes two to tango, sparrow.”

You let your hand fall to your lap. “Yeah.”

He glanced over at you after a moment. “Besides, you were the one who said you didn't want to fight.”

“Much good it did me,” you said quietly. Though there was an understanding between you now, you still didn't know what to say, how to tell him things you could hardly sort out yourself. “I didn’t want to fight. Or maybe I did. I don't know.”

You put your cigarette out and looked for a place to put it; he held his hand out and put it in the pocket of his jacket. 

“I don't know why I always do this,” you said softly. “I don't know why I keep everything bottled up until it turns into a huge catastrophe.” You felt the sting of tears, remembering how you'd hurt him, how poorly you'd treated the one you loved more than anything, feeling guilty for your inability to give him the apology he deserved.

“And then I do this,” you said, “and make it a pity party for how stupid I am.”

He ran a soothing hand over your back. “Yeah. You do.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “Too bad I love you, sparrow.”

“Oh, you're joking, but it’s true,” you said miserably. “I was awful to you. I don't know how you put up with it.”

“I just told you why,” he said gently. He brushed his hands through your hair. “I love you, sparrow. Pity parties and all.”

You turned your tear-streaked face to him and met his eyes, sucking in a choppy breath. “Even like this?”

“Yes, sparrow. Even like this.” He brushed your tears away with a gentle touch. “I thought I told you not to cry, silly girl. You never listen to me.”

You couldn't help a watery laugh, and he gave you a tender smile. 

“I'm sorry I hurt you,” he said. “I didn't mean to, but I understand how that doesn't make it any easier. I'd be doing the same thing as you if it was the other way around.”

You shook your head. “You wish you could cry as much as I do, Kiszka. You don't ever cry.”

“That’s not true.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. “I cried when I left.” His smile was wry and rueful. “That's why I left, partly, to be all stoic and manly while I cried like a baby.”

Your heart twisted. “Jake. You could have woken me up.”

“Yeah, I know.” He grazed his knuckles over your cheek. “But you needed to sleep, and I couldn't figure out what to say to you anyway. The way I treated you... that was a mistake, sparrow, and I regret it. All of it — the fighting, the sex, not seeing you as you are, not giving you what you needed. I'm sorry.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, but your tears were starting in earnest again. “Me too, Jake. I’m sorry for all of it too.”

“My girl,” he said softly, a gentle, teasing smile on his face. “There you go again, looking at me with your heart in your eyes, everything spilling over.” 

He pulled you close; you leaned into his chest, your head thumping pitifully against his collarbone. He gave you a tight, comforting squeeze, rocking you gently.

“We’re a mess, aren’t we?” he asked.

You breathed a laugh. “I’d rather be a mess with you than do anything else.”

“Me too.”

“I love you, Jake.”

He kissed your forehead. “I love you too, sparrow. Come lay with me and let me show you how much.”

With soft, healing laughter, you helped each other out of your damp clothes and lay in the nest of pillows and blankets together. You pulled him close and combed your fingers through his hair.

“You’re beautiful,” you said softly. He was, all warm and soft under the golden fairy lights, and the peace that filled his expression now was more lovely to you than anything you'd ever seen.

A sweet blush pinked his cheeks. “Thank you, sparrow. You're beautiful too.”

He cradled your face in his palm and traced the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “I didn’t bring you here to sleep with you. We can if you want, but I understand if you don't. We can do whatever you want.”

You hummed. “How about mad libs?”

He chuckled. “If you want. It's your love nest, sparrow. You pick.”

You drew him close and kissed him, slow and sweet and deep. “I want to be with you, Jake.”

“I want to be with you too, sparrow.”

You spent long minutes relearning each other, his mouth gentle against yours, remembering how to love each other with patience and tender touches. He pulled you snug against him with a hand splayed over your back; you melted into him, safe and loved and mended. He kissed the places he’d left marks before, healing with every touch, until everything was right in the world.

He brushed his fingers over your cheek. “Let me make love to you, sparrow. Let me do it right this time.”

“Okay,” you said softly.

He stayed with you, close and warm and generous with his kisses, and you gave a contented sigh when you were joined. He was slow, gentle, patient; you blossomed under him like a flower opening to the sun, drinking in all of him, surrounded by him and the love he gave you so easily and willingly. 

“With me, sparrow,” he said, holding you close. “Please, love. With me.”

Pleasure, joy, something nameless and old and perfect; you felt them all when he moved inside you, when you heard his sigh and the words of love he spoke to you, when you felt the way he loved you and held you after.

“Sparrow, sparrow,” he said, gentle, breathless. “I love you. You're my heart. You know that, don't you?”

“Yes, Jake,” you said softly. You kissed him. “You’re my heart too.”

—

The rain kept up a steady beat on the roof of your tent, comforting now instead of lonely, and in the afterglow, Jake was full of laughter and bright with smiles you couldn't help but return. You talked about everything and nothing, listening to each other’s voices, coming together in pleasant interludes of hands on skin and tenderness in every place you needed it. 

“Let's never fight again,” you said.

He gave a gentle laugh, drawing your intertwined hands up to study them in the soft light. “Okay. It's not very realistic, honey, but we can try.”

“I mean... not like that again,” you said. His hand was the perfect fit for yours, callused and gentle and strong; the macrame bracelet you'd made for him years ago rested at his wrist. “You’re better at it than I am.”

He didn’t deny it; he couldn't, not when he was so good at it, at knowing when to step back and take a minute and when to talk again when you were both calmer. You relied on him in that, and it wasn't until now that you realized just how heavily you depended on his good judgement and diligence in it. 

It also made you realize just how angry you must have made him earlier to push him over the edge of that judgement. It was that thought that kept you from feeling completely content, and you felt you could apologize to him over and over and never do it enough.

“Jake,” you said softly. You tucked your hands between you. “Can you forgive me?”

He kissed your collarbone. “I already have, sparrow.”

Your throat felt tight. “How?”

“You know how,” he said gently. “Tell me.”

You drew him up to kiss you again. “Because you love me.”

“That’s right. Because I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said, meaning it more than anything you'd ever said in your life. “Teach me how to be better to you.”

“I like you the way you are, sparrow.”

You smiled. “I know that too. But you’d like me more if I knew how to tell you what I was feeling.”

He shrugged. “I’ll get better at reading you,” he said. “Teach me how to do that, and I’ll teach you to be a lover, not a fighter.”

You giggled as he kissed your neck. “Can we start right now?”

“Sure. Tell me how you're feeling. But first...” He gently stretched you out beneath him. “I think you're feeling safe, and happy, and.... hm. Maybe excited. A little.”

You laughed. “Correct. See, I told you — you’re better at it than I am.”

He hummed. “Anything else? Maybe I missed something.”

“Well...” You were a little bashful. “Maybe I feel kind of hungry.”

He gave a dramatic groan. “Oh, I knew I missed something.” He smiled and kissed you. “Let’s get you something to eat, then.”

You dressed again and found it was a short walk back to the cabin. In the bathroom mirror, you saw a bright, lovely color in your face and much preferred it to the sickly look you’d had before. You changed into clothes that weren't soaked with rain and ventured back out to the living room; Sam and Danny had gone to bed, but Josh and Baby were asleep on the couch, his head in her lap, her hands lightly tangled in his curls. She woke when you came in, looking up at you with a sleepy smile.

“All better?” she whispered.

You couldn't help a beaming smile. “Yeah. All better.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” she sighed. “I thought I was going to have to take you both by the ear and make you fix things.”

You gave a soft laugh. “No need. We’ve decided we’re never fighting again.”

Her smile turned to more of a smirk. “Well, good sex will do that. Let me know if you crack the code, and I’ll try it with this one.”

She gently roused her boyfriend and rewarded him with a kiss. “Bed, Joshy.”

He nodded, half-asleep. “Okay, baby.”

She gave your hand a gentle squeeze as she led him to bed, and you were so glad that everything was right in your family, that you were all happy and had the rest of your vacation to enjoy each other.

“Sparrow, my dearest.”

You turned towards the kitchen to see Jake with a hodgepodge of midnight snacks. 

“Chef Kiszka strikes again,” you teased.

He grinned. “Well, I figured you didn't want to wait for a full-blown Julia Child recipe, but I’ll make something fancier if you want.”

“No, this is perfect.” You stole a pretzel and popped it in your mouth. “Delicious. Better than anything Julia Child could make.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Can we take it back out to our love nest?”

“Uh... yes,” he said, looking around the kitchen. “I might have to throw it all in a Ziploc bag, though, to save it getting rained on.”

You hummed in agreement. “Like a weird trail mix.”

He smiled. “Something like that.”

Weird trail mix in hand, you went back out to your tent and got cosy again. He peeled a tangerine for you, handing you pieces of it and stealing a few for himself, and you found that he’d brought the copy of Rilke’s poems you’d gotten him last Christmas.

“I didn't know you actually liked this,” you said, thumbing through the dog-eared pages, seeing the notes he'd made in the margins. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. “Of course I liked it. I read it all the time. He’s your favorite.”

Your heart tilted. “He is my favorite.” You handed the book to him. “Will you read me our poem?”

He smiled. “As if you don't have it memorized,” he teased gently.

You shrugged. “It’s not the same as hearing you read it. I love to listen to your voice.”

He looked pleased and a little bashful, taking the book and opening it to the poem he’d used as words of love before you even knew he loved you. His voice was soft and warm as he read, giving every word its meaning as a little piece in a tapestry of affection and beauty.

“Show me the miracle of your hair unbound,” he read. “I want to surround you with your secret self... I want to close every place you've ever been with a kiss, leaving nothing but inner skies.”

You leaned close and let him kiss you and leave you with nothing but inner skies, deep, boundless, full of meaning and wonder. You lay together again, tucked close to each other, and he read to you from your favorite poet.

“How we waste our hours of pain,” he read, his voice rumbling comfortingly in his chest. “How we gaze beyond them into the bitter duration to see if they have an end. Though they are really our winter-enduring foliage, our dark evergreen, one season in our inner year — not only a season in time, but a place and settlement, foundation and soil and home.”

You touched his cheek, feeling the words of the poem ring true for the two of you — in the safety of the love you shared, your hours of pain were something more, something evergreen, a foundation on which you built a stronger love to make a home in together. 

“I love you, Jake,” you said, very softly.

He kissed you and held you close. “My sweet sparrow. I love you too.”

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[illumnis]

oh, time turner. ― you could've pushed through the hurdles instead of ending it at once; but the time was going to pass anyways, right? time has done it's work, you're different people now, with different lives and different minds, so why do the two of you still hold onto who you used to be- to each other, you mean. no one can blame you, we all have the same hearts as yesterday after all.

pairing: various x gn!reader

warnings: just angst no comfort, codependency?? or just attachment, both of you are sad and sentimental, this was gnna be a vent but i got carried away and instead made this, i am so sorry. (inspired by promise by laufey if that makes it hit even harder)

art creds: holly warbuton (pls correct me if im wrong hhh)

time has passed, but the same sparrow still perches at your window sill.

sparrows, they say, represent love- an extension of aphrodite herself, the goddess of love and beauty.

you wish you could say it was ironic; how this same sparrow stilled, perched on your window as your and you partner came to the painful agreement to end things. you wish you could say it's ironic, how this sparrow; who still, despite two years- which people may say it's not a long time, but its seven hundred thirty days. seven hundred thirty days that you heart is left to mend, or your brain is to abandon information to take in something new; something that matters more than something that did seven hundred and thirty days ago. - still perches at your window will. a sparrow that represents love, a sparrow who watched a piece of you walk out with someone, still right there.

you wish you could say- but you can't, because despite the time, the minutes, and the seconds, and the hours, and any and every interval of time, you still love them.

(more under the cut)

the piece of you that they walked out with did not die the moment it left its home. much like how a flower separated from its roots to join a beautiful bouquet- it's quite sad in reality, stripping a flower away from its freedom to make its own food or water itself on its own accord; maybe that's why...

why you still find yourself depending on you ex-lover, or at least, the parts you abandoned of yourself that did depend on your ex-lover, you still hold onto. like the sagging flower- which its sagging may look obnoxious, but really, it's coming apart at it's seams, starting from the stem, to the leaves, to its- begging for it's owner...

'please water me' it begs.

'please look after me, you're all i have. for i cannot walk on two legs. for i cannot turn to the sun on my own- i only have your artificial lighting. for i no longer have my home, my roots.'

you're thankful, at least, that you aren't a flower cut away from its roots, and do not require someone to keep you alive in the same conditions.

however, you do long for that part of you again; along with the care of your ex-lover. it's a different codependency you think- yet, just as shameful.

two long years, he had found you again on social media, sending you a friendly dm, asking to meet at a cafe like old times.

old times. a petal plucked from your head, marking a time in your life you held dear. old times.

you agree, and of course; it's different.

there are old times, and there are new times. old times, as in the name, are not something you can relive, not something you can take back.

you and him are not the same people you were when you were together. but despite all of this- the longing, the string connecting your hearts together is retied. the feelings are left unsaid, but you both know.

you both know it's there but there is no acknowledgement, there is no attempt at rekindling the fire. the both of you know that either way, you will end up hurt.

two years ago, you two were different lovers, different views as to the ones you have now, different attitudes, different lives. so what would be the harm of trying again?

the harm is that you both still have the same heart. new wounds, sure, but mended does not mean new. the scar is still there, the love, the memories, but also the flaws, the causes of your disagreements, and the reason you ended it in the first place.

there was no trying again. this was it. despite the hurt, despite the pain of parting; or despite- if in another universe, you ended up rekindling the fire that burnt out two years ago- the pain that would come if you got back together, there was still love.

you hate to settle. he does too, you know that. the two of you hated to settle because of the possibility of better.

but the two of you always find that, around each other, that's just naturally what you do.

even if it was never down together, you settle.

― men who, despite the pain, still love. who gratefully take a piece of everyone they have every cherished, and cared for it with their entire being: diluc, kaeya, xiao, venti, kazuha, megumi, yuji, yuuta, gorou, kaveh, alhaitham, wriothesley, nanami, neuvillette, childe.

navi. mlist.

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

CAN WE GET A ALBUMS YHEY WOULD FUCK WITH PART TWO? any characters u want!!

teehee i didn't know y'all rocked w the first - lmk if i missed anyone, or if you want a girls version/an akatsuki version - thank you so much for the request!! :)

Albums I Think They Would Fuck With 2

They: Choji, Kiba, Shino, Sai, Neji, Lee, Kankuro, Gaara, Shisui, Gai, Asuma, Yamato, Jiraiya

Summary: Which of my fav albums I think each of my fav Naruto men would enjoy the most - also a classic rock recommendation list (if you rock w the character, you'd probably get down to the album)

Fav not here? Try part 1, or send me a request!

Masterlist💿

Choji

Without a Net (Live) by The Grateful Dead

Choji would be soooo salty that he never got to go to a Dead show, because he doesn't think their studio albums hold a candle to their live performances. That said, he would adore the Grateful Dead, without long and experimental their songs are (there's something to appreciate about not having to flip the record for an hour, instead of forty minutes).

Kiba

Pet Sounds by The Beach Boys

Deadass, he would think Pet Sounds is a much better album than Sgt. Pepper, and there is no way to convince him otherwise. Kiba would want to be a Wilson brother.

Shino

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme by Simon & Garfunkel

Ugh, so relaxing, so dreamy, and so easy to sing along. Shino would so love this album, because it would relax him in a way that only Si & Garf could.

Sai

Begin Here by The Zombies

Sai would love the shredding vocals and how full the music is, even the sad songs - the lyrics from multiple songs off this album would speak to him on multiple levels.

Neji

Deliver by The Mamas and The Papas

Melancholic but gentle, while still delivering strong, hopeful messages? Yeah, pen Neji down rn.

Lee

Love Grows & Other Gems by Edison Lighthouse

Screaming and crying over this - Lee would be so taken by the love songs, and he'd be whistling the darling melodies all the time. Even the ballads, Lee would be singing so beautifully.

Kankuro

Thirty Three & 1/3 by George Harrison

Would love the jazz, love the symbolism, love George Harrison. Kankuro would find this album chock-full of bangers. Not one of these tunes would be skipped, not until Kankuro has experienced it (he also will turn back the needle if he felt he wasn't appreciating a song properly).

Gaara

The Stranger (Legacy Edition) by Billy Joel

Needs to be the Legacy Edition, because Gaara fucks with the B-side heaviest (y'all need to indulge rn). He literally cries to Billy Joel's voice, and loves to forget about things while he listens to this album.

Shisui

Moving by Peter, Paul and Mary

Happy cries to this album over memories that aren't even his. He wouldn't be able to stop himself from singing along, especially to Puff and Tiny Sparrow.

Gai

Tommy by The Who

He would go an see the live show - and he would think that Tommy was a real person (before he sits down to chew on the possibility of a deaf, dumb, and blind kid being a pinball champion). Gai would still find the spirit of Tommy to be an inspiration and a testament to the power of youth.

Asuma

Physical Graffiti by Led Zeppelin

Hot damn, what is there to say? Asuma would literally wish he was John Bonham (Jimmy Page would be a far too ambitious pick, and he would know that, but never admit it).

Yamato

It Ain't Me Babe by The Turtles

Awe, sweetie!!! He would love this album for the love songs, but tell everyone he loved it for the revolution ballads (also lowk hates the stereo recordings, but finds mono too boring).

Jiraiya

Monty Python Sings by the Monty Python troupe

Oh, he fucks with regular music too, of course. But these. These songs would make him laugh so hard, on top of being so strangely good, and he would fuck with the Monty Python movies so hard.