#i had this in my sketches for a while and had completely forgotten about it lol

[kittkattys]

"SINCE WHEN YOU ARE BI?!" maiko moment

no flag version

[writerslittlelibrary]

Were you expecting someone?

masterlist

summary: thinking it’s a day like any other, you simply busy yourself with some homework and your hobbies, until there’s suddenly a gun pointed at your head

pairing: Natasha x daughter reader, Yelena x niece reader, Melina & Alexei x granddaughter reader

warnings: a gun? 

genre: fluff

words: 1265

a/n: I thought there should be way more content about the Widow family. I love to see more of the concept of Melina and Alexei with a grandchild

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work 

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When you woke up this morning, you were not expecting the situation you were currently in. Because you were wearing your headphones, you had not heard anyone enter the house. Your mom told you she would be gone until late afternoon, and while you were busying yourself with some drawings, you had completely forgotten the time.

Not that it mattered, really. Usually, when your mom comes home she’d always let you know, whether she’d send you a text or simply come into your room and say hi. 

This situation however, was slightly different. One moment you were peacefully sketching some ideas you were working on, and the next moment you could feel the cold metal of a gun pressed against your temple. You slowly looked up from your sketchbook, not making any sudden movements. 

You thought the woman in the room was simply another Widow from the Red Room, sent to assassinate you. You’d been dealing with those ever since you escaped two years ago. 

When you didn’t feel the woman relax her grip on the gun, nor feeling a bullet piercing your skull, you decided to handle the situation yourself. You turned around swiftly, grabbing the gun and pulling it towards yourself, managing to yank the woman forward and knee her in the gut. You pushed her to the side, holding the gun tightly as she let it go in surprise. 

She made a move quickly, hitting you across the face. You replied by swiping her legs from under her, letting her fall to the ground as you ran out the room. 

You made a run to the stairs, moving to get down as fast as possible. When you did, you saw two other people standing in the living room. It was a man and a younger woman. She couldn’t have been older than 25. 

Your eyes widened in surprise as you made a move to run to the front door. You could hear the woman from upstairs making her way down as well. Once you reached the door however, it opened, revealing your mom standing in the doorway holding some groceries. 

She smiled at you, then frowned when she saw blood on your face. 

“We have to go,” you said quickly, grabbing her hand and trying to run away. She however, didn’t move. You turned around to see her stifling a laugh. 

“Were you expecting someone?” you asked her, letting go of her hand and looking at her. “I’m sorry,” she just told you, letting a laugh escape. 

She grabbed your arm and dragged you into the living room, setting her bags down before pushing you onto a chair, making a move to grab the first aid kit. “Natasha, Who is that?” you heard the woman from before ask in a strong Russian accent. “I should have warned you,” she said, sitting next to you and carefully cleaning up the blood from your face. 

“Yeah, you really should have,” you told, wincing slightly when she pressed the alcohol cloth onto the wound. 

“I’m not too pleased you injured her though,” Natasha told the woman. “She attacked first,” the woman replied. You frowned and looked at the woman. “You held a gun to my head!” you told her. The younger woman grinned, clearly finding the situation amusing. 

“Y/N, meet my family, guys, meet my daughter,” Natasha said, putting a band-aid on your forehead before cleaning up the things she used, stashing the first aid kit back into the cupboard it came from. 

“How?” the younger woman simply asked, sitting down on the other side of you. “Dreykov created her using my eggs after I was sterilized. I didn’t know about her until two years ago,” Natasha explained, grabbing you a glass of water to help with the headache she knew was going to form. 

You thanked her for the water and looked at the other two people standing in the room. They hadn’t made a move to sit down yet. 

“Y/N, meet Melina, Alexei and Yelena,” Natasha introduced, motioning to the person she meant when she said their name. “Yelena’s my sister-” “And now an aunt too,” Yelena interrupted, also having a heavy Russian accent. She seemed ecstatic by that fact. You smiled at her and simply drank some of your water. “Are you going to stand and glare or…” you said slowly, referring to Melina and Alexei. 

Slowly they sat down. The moment they did, Alexei smiled. “Welcome to the family!” he said excitedly, motioning his hands up a little. 

Melina now smiled too, getting up and moving towards the fridge. “We need to celebrate,” she simply said as she opened it and reached for a bottle of vodka. She opened some cupboards until she found the one holding the glasses, and grabbed some shot glasses. 

She put them on the table and filled them. There were five of them, but you decided not too say anything. Natasha would never let you drink it anyway.

Melina put a glass in front of everyone, you included. 

She lifted her glass, as if to make a little toast. “Welcome to the family,” she said as she drank the vodka. Yelena and Alexei did the same, while you just looked at Natasha and smiled awkwardly. 

She returned your smile, grabbing her own shot of vodka and drinking it. You didn’t touch yours. “You are not drinking?” Melina asked, stating the obvious. You smiled at her and shook your head. “I’m 16,” you told her, and Melina frowned. 

“So?” 

“We’re in the United States… It's illegal here. Besides, it's like three pm…” you told her, glancing at the clock. “It is always good time for a drink,” Melina simply replied, pouring herself another glass. You smiled and grabbed your water, finishing the glass. Of course you drank vodka before. You were a Russian after all, but your mother didn’t need to know that.

After Yelena swiped your glass and drank it herself, you turned to your mother. “Can I go now?” you asked, wanting to get out of the awkward family get together. 

Natasha smiled and nodded. You got up from your chair and made your way upstairs, immediately jumping onto your bed and grabbing your phone, wanting to tell Wanda everything that just happened. 

You talked with Wanda on the phone for a while, explaining how Melina had you at gunpoint and about how bad you felt you threw her on the ground. Wanda laughed at certain things you told her, feeling as though it was a situation you could both laugh about, and you didn’t actually feel bad about something. You two talked for a few hours, simply enjoying hearing the other talk. Then Wanda had to go, saying her dinner she ordered had arrived. 

A few minutes after hanging up the phone, you heard a knock on your door. When it opened Yelena walked inside. 

“So this is your room huh?” Yelena said as she looked around your room, picking up some stuff and flipping through your sketchbook. “Cool,” she said, sitting down on your desk chair. “Natasha told me to come get you because the food is here.”

“Thanks,” you told her, rolling from the middle of the bed to the side, so you could plug your phone into its charger and get up. 

“I think we’ll be good friends,” Yelena said, getting up herself and exiting your room, followed by you. You smiled. This definitely wasn’t how you expected meeting Natasha’s family, had you known about them, but you couldn’t deny you were excited to get to know them better. 

[spencer0o7]

pretty girls that do sports

tashi x fem!artist!reader

summary : after tashi's injury that ended her tennis career she meets y/n who changes how she views her life.

warnings : slight mention of homophobia

word count : 1.2k

notes : I’ve been wanting to write challengers fanfiction for ages now and unfortunately there aren’t lots of Tashi fics out there so I had to make one! I imagined y/n as black but they can be any race :)

btw english isn’t my first language

You first met after Tashi’s injury. After having no choice but to quit tennis professionally she started putting more time into studying.

One day when she was walking around campus to find her new tutor she got lost in a completely different building. She stumbled upon an isolated classroom, the light from it seeping out from the doorway. Her curiosity got the best of her so she stuck her head in to see what was in it.

There she saw you sitting in front of an easel sketching onto a canvas. The afternoon sun from the windows was illuminating your face. You were intensely focused on your work but looked incredibly at peace alone in the remote classroom. Something about your attention and focus on your work drew her to you.

Tashi had been so caught up in admiring you and your dedication she had missed when you finally looked up from your canvas to her.

You stared at her for a moment. Your brows slightly furrowed with confusion for why this pretty girl would be standing here in this small isolated classroom you occupy. “Looking for something?” You ask breaking the silence.

For the first time, Tashi doesn’t know what to say. Like her words got stuck in her throat. Leaving her mind absolutely blank. “I- no I’m just looking around campus,” She eventually stutters out.

She steps further into the room putting her hand on the open doorframe. The smell of paint permeated the room.

“Ah,” you exclaim. “Well, Mrs Donovan lets me use her classroom during off hours.” You turn in your chair slightly to face her better. “You’re free to join.” You add having a sense that the girl might’ve been in need of some peace and quiet.

Tashi smiled at that before introducing herself to you. Her name sounded familiar to you.

It was then it hit you that she’s the star tennis player who got injured. Her future of becoming a professional athlete disappearing with it. Maybe that’s why she was roaming around here in search of something. You grin back at her seeing her beautiful smile appear. “I’m Y/N.”

She moved into the classroom to stand next to you. “What are you making?” This was unlike herself, going after someone especially someone she doesn’t even know. But it was like she didn’t have complete control of her body, she was completely enamored by you and wanted to know more.

You turn back to the easel. “I’m not sure really, I thought of painting the view outside but it’s not really coming together.”

“Well I’m not much of an artist but I think to paint you need some color on your canvas?” Tashi teased looking at the blank canvas staring back at you.

A laugh escapes your mouth. “I don’t know I just- I just can’t seem to find it in me.” You sigh letting your arms rest limply on your thighs. You shrug while looking back at her, “I’ll probably just scrap it anyway. I need some new inspiration.”

“What kind of inspiration do you use usually then?” Tashi puts her hands on her waist with a curious look on her face. Her meeting with her tutor was long forgotten.

“Hmh,” You cock your head slightly in thought, “Views, music, nature, pretty girls that do sports, y’know…”

Tashi’s heartbeat picks up but she calmly masks her growing infatuation with a grin. “Oh really?”

You’ve never really been shy about your romantic feelings for girls. If there’s someone you like you’ll try testing the waters to see how they feel. But you can’t really say that’s always worked out well for you. Tashi though, she’s different.

It’s like the moment you saw her standing at the door of the classroom you knew she was special.

I mean you’d seen her before around Stanford. In fact, it was hard not to, with her whole fan club (and people way too obviously trying to get into her pants) surrounding her at almost any time.

But here, with you, it wasn’t like that. It’s almost as if without tennis looming over her at any time you could finally see her as herself. You wonder if she thought about her former tennis career in the same way.

Your tongue brushes over your bottom lip. “Sure,” You bashfully admit. Tashi chuckles at that. “Well.. if that description includes me I’d love to help you find your inspiration.” She suggests in a playful tone of voice.

You smirk at her, already knowing you’re about to create something beautiful.

Tashi’s been up for a few minutes now. Her stomach rumbles which makes her realize how hungry she is. She turns over in the bed to look at your sleeping body. “Y/N,” she whispers. You stir slightly in your sleep. “Wanna go get breakfast?”

You finally open your eyes. You look at her sleepily, with a smile creeping up on your face. She loves waking up alongside you, comfortably squished together in your tiny twin bed. You move over to lie on her arm

You wine softly, “I don’t wanna move. I’m so comfy.”

“While laying on me?”

“You’re my new pillow.”

“You have a silk pillowcase.” She laughs as she toys with one of your stray hair strands. These moments before the day has started mean a lot to her.

“Really? You’re gonna make me get food on my own?” She asks in a sickly sweet voice. You stare up at her. “Can we get bagels?”

“Bagels, muffins, croissants.. whatever you want.” She lists off. “Alright, I’m up,” You instantly sit up which makes her giggle. You crawl out of the bed searching for clothes to wear in your closet. You pick up a sweater quickly slipping it on. She stares at you from the bed. “C’mon baby let’s go.”

“I haven’t even gotten ready,” Tashi groans as she gets out of bed. “You don’t need to get ready, you’re beautiful in any state.”

You look at her with a big grin. Tashi just stares at you unconvinced. “You’re cute,” She chuckles. You turn around to grab one of your hoodies and hand it to her. She changes into the hoodie as you put on your socks and shoes.

“M’gonna use the bathroom real quick,” Tashi calls out from behind you. “Kay,” you yell back. You grab your little mirror on your desk to make sure your hair looks good before leaving. You busy yourself with it for a few minutes.

“You look great, you always do,” You suddenly hear from Tashi behind you. Tashi puts her hands on your shoulder “Did you know you’re exactly my type.”

She pulls the mirror from your hand, throwing it on your unmade bed. She puts her lips on your neck softly kissing you. “What’s your type then?” You ask with a grin.

“Oh y’know, pretty girls that paint,” Tashi answers, her voice vibrating onto your skin.

Seeing Tashi so distracted, you giggled, “I thought you were hungry?”

“Oh yeah,” She wraps her arms around your waist, resting her head on your shoulder. “But this is good too.”

“It’ll be even better eating a stack of pancakes,” You spin around to see her. You take your hands in hers. Tashi grins at you. Seeing her smile makes you so happy you kiss her cheek.

You let go for a moment so Tashi can slip her shoes on and you grab your keys. She walks up to you and slips her hand back in yours.

You smile opening the door, letting her go out first. “I think this breakfast is gonna be great.” You step outside into the hallway. Tashi grins at you as you walk hand in hand.

[d34dxr0ses]

|| Everlasting Ink ||

TattooArtist!Boyfriend!Xavier Thorpe x Fem!Reader -- Summary: You've always been Xavier's muse, inspiring and motivating his work, but right now he wants nothing more than for you to be his canvas for his most recent design. Warnings: MDNI/18+/Tattoo artist Xavier AU/Aged Up characters/Spice/Xavier giving reader a sternum tattoo/Kissing/Pet names (Angel;Babe;My love)/Pinch of Possessive!Xavier A/N: This is the first fic I'll be posting here, so I hope you guys like it! (Also this was written at 1am so apologies for any mistakes)^^

It had been 15 minutes since Xavier started looking at you, still cleaning and sterilizing his tattoo gun, and he has yet to look away. You were reading a book you had picked up from the library before you met up with your boyfriend in his art shed, that was hidden in the woods on Nevermore's campus. Though you were deeply invested in your book, you couldn't shake the feeling of his gaze, so you glanced up to meet his adoring eyes.

"What?" You laughed out, inspecting his face. He looked like a kid who was scared to ask his mom for some candy, but his eyes were much wider (lost in thought, clearly), and his cheeks slightly more red.

"I uh.." He cleared his throat and looked down at the cloth and tool in his hands, that he had been thoroughly wiping every inch for the past several minutes; before continuing "My love, and you can absolutely say no, but well- I finished a design that I've been working on, and I was hoping to tattoo it on you?" He placed his tattoo gun on the desk before quickly rummaging through all his papers before finding his sketch book.

You stood up from where you sat and approached his chair, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind as you stared at the drawing he flipped open too. You already knew you would probably have let him the moment he asked in such a sweet tone, but you were stunned by the piece. It was a fairly larger sternum tattoo, that would wrap around your chest and peak in between your boobs. The drawing had such intricate details, and little parts that made it appear that he had designed it just for you. Even the chest model he had drawn matched yours damn near perfectly.

"Xavier.. That's beautiful, I'd be honored to be you canvas." You said the last part in a fake, more proper sounding accent. His eyes lit up and his head snapped back so he was facing you. You could've swore that if he had a tail it would be wagging.

"Wait seriously? Like now? Can we do it now?" You could only imagine how long a piece like this would take, and it was already pretty late, but you had enough caffeinated drinks that you really didn't care, with the look he had stuck on his face you'd probably let him cover every inch of your body in his drawings, hiding your skin away in the ink.

--

That's where you sat now. Lying on your back, topless and staring at the drawing of your tattoo in his book. Your page. Sure, he had a lot of drawings of you, but this was different. It wasn't your face, your body, your hair. No, this was you. This was something that clearly showed that he took a great look into who you really were. Each line told its own story; then you noticed it, scattered throughout it was letters, unnoticeable unless you were specifically looking for it, letters that spelt out his name. A grin climbed onto your face, as closed the book, setting it on the desk closest to you. You looked down at the boy with long brown hair, who's bangs had now been tied back.

"Your name huh? Claiming me now?" Blood now rushed back to his face. It was a part of the design he had completely forgotten about. A part that he sketched out while thinking about you with his name stained onto your body, showing that you were truly his, and his alone.

"I forgot about that, babe I promise I wouldn't try to tattoo my name on you without perm-" but you cut him off. He was almost frantic, which was cute, but always led to him rambling on nervously for at least 10 minutes.

"I like it, its not like its in bold, neon ink, keep it. Please?" You added the please with a small whine for good measure, to make sure he wouldn't feel bad about it. He just nodded and started prepping you for the stencil.

This was your first tattoo, so you weren't exactly prepared for the cold liquid to be sprayed on your body, but when it was you couldn't help but flinch, which made your usually gentle boyfriend, push down slightly on your chest.

"Angel, I know you've never had this done, but for this I'm gonna need you to stay perfectly still once I get the gun out." His voice was stern and dry, a huge change in pace from the timid boy from a moment ago, but not an unwelcome one. You found it quite attractive the way he could switch back and forth like that. You just nodded, and went back to admiring him at work.

-

It had been several hours since he started the tattoo, it was decently painful, but at the same time felt really nice. You had finally adjusted to the way he was doing it, when he suddenly lifted the tool and stood up, readjusting himself. You thought he was just stretching after sitting uninterrupted for so long, but instead he moved onto the table where yo were, positioning his knees on either side of your hips, squeezing you gently to keep you in place. How flustered you were must've been clearly shown on your face because, still keeping the machine away from you, he leaned down and kissed you, you could feel his smirk in the kiss. He was loving this. You'd been watching him the entire time, not his work, but his face and body movement, and he knew it. He himself had a hard time keeping his eyes on his art. Your breasts were completely exposed to him, and he loved knowing that he was the only one allowed to see you like this.

He finally broke the kiss, giving you a moment to fix your breathing, and stop moving before returning to the tattoo.

-

It was nearing sunrise when the tattoo was done and yet you both still felt wide awake. He hadn't moved from his spot straddling your waist since he got there, ,but he did have to pin down your shoulder every so often when it tried to move on it's own. He was surprised that you didn't ask him to stop for a break at all. You were in a trance like state watching his every movement, but at the very least it kept you still. He brought his phone out and took a photo of "the tattoo" He told you, but you knew exactly why he was so precise with his angles.

[omaano]

SW Hades AU August Update

Links and previous updates: May - June - July, everything else in this AU

In contrast to the July update, I didn't make as much progress in August as I'd intended, but all the same I'm quite happy with what I get to share with you here:

In the previous poll I only promised to get Echo and Fives to lines and flat colours by this (more than a bit belated) update, but thanks to @lesquatrechevrons keeping me company while I was working on them I managed to get the Domino Twins character art to a state of "almost finished". (I had posted them as "finished" but that was before I realized that I'd forgotten to add the little specks of neon colour to them, but oh well, I hate that stage anyway XD)

I also did some brainstorming with the amazing @elwinged about all the characters, as well as the various weapons and their aspects for this AU. They had some great theories and ideas, and also made me actively think about these things, which was real fun!

Before I go into some ramblings about what went into Echo and Fives' art and design (gotta pad this update with something, and some of you seemed to enjoy it with Omega last time), let's have another poll for next month! I've looked over my table of characters and plans, and I came to the delightful realization that I've made far better progress than how it feels on a day-to-day basis. So maybe it's time to work a bit on the boon-giver characters for a change:

Also would anyone be interested in a taglist for these updates, or are you all fine with me just putting these out whenever and let tumblr do its thing in getting them to you? (send me an ask or reply here if yes, I know my tumblr is a mess XD)

Now on to some thoughts on Echo and Fives:

Depicted but not illustrated in its fullest is that Rex has been a constant presence next to Echo and Fives (and to Cody, too, previous to that). It bears repeating that I really wanted to make sure that the clones are the same in size, and share as many colours as possible (so Cody also stood around as moral support when it came to Fives' hair). So you can also see how the shading on their faces are very similar in their shapes, except for the shadows in that part where nose, cheek and mouth meet, because I wanted to make the Dominoes look a bit younger.

Same with how Rex still has that wrinkle in his forehead that I oddly fixate on so much (don't ask), but Echo and Fives very clerly don't. I'll claim that it had been a completely conscious decision, and not just time passing between the two designs - well over half a year - during which I got it into my head that I should depict the clones during wartime as close to their barely-20-ish age as possible.

One thing I didn't commit to enough though (because I chickened out) was to make Fives look a bit more "dead" and ghostly before I put the blue-green soft light adjustment layer on him was the deeper and darker circles under his eyes, and I fully intended to leave out the light reflection from his eyes... but in the end I went back and added a duller shine to them because I'm weak, it's barely visible and he looked too grumpy and mean already T^T I also didn't want to make his cheeks more hollow or anything, because then I would just feel bad and weird about taking away the roundness from their shapes that I've worked so hard to put on them.

As I was working on this piece I've also thought a lot on the style that I've been trying to mimic through this project.

The thing that gave me pause is that I see more and more of my own style slipping into these pieces, I allow my lines to round out more... and I can claim that it is mostly because that's the compromise I can make with the clones, but I open up and look at Hades references less and less, and I just go freely with what's stuck in my brain while I'd tried to wrap my mind around the style when I first went at it.

I've also always had trouble with grouping my shadows and shapes, and this is exactly what I should be pushing more from now on forward. I keep letting myself get distracted by all the tiny details that I so enjoy to put into my work (case in point all that scarring on Echo, and even Fives' hair - as well as Cody's previously, but I didn't know how else to convey the texture of their hair in less and larger shapes). Hades character designs always feel so rich with detail, but at the same time they are a lot more streamlined than what I'd do if i let my own instincts and desires run wild. I'll try to work with that in the future!

Last but not least a few words on Echo's armor:

I'm slowly but surely stretching my artistic muscles a little and going a bit off-model for the characters, so I wanted Echo to wear armor that is a mix of his ARC and Bad Batch commando armor. So he's got the old plates on his arms (where he still has one LOL), all the straps and pouches (and both blasters!) and old kama hanging from his belt, as well as the hand print paint (because that is personally very very important to me that he has it). Then, beause I desperately needed some other colour in my characters that's not blue or black or grey, he's got elements of the red and orange paint he wears later in TBB (I really wanted him to have that orange stripe down the middle of his chest piece too, but I couldn't make it work with the handprint :() I'm real happy with this balance, and particularly with the shades of blue in his worn paint ^^

I also really wanted to give him a hand (I'll never not be frustrated at how Echo was kept literally handicapped with only his left hand to shoot and grab things (and people) with. It's good that he'd been an ARC and trained in dual wielding, but in a world where people keep losing their appendages (and sometimes half of their bodies) as if it was np big deal at all, it couldn't have been too difficult to get him a hand!! ANYWAYS. I'd first learned how to draw mechanical prosthetic hands/arms during my time in the Overwatch fandom, and I don't think I could draw them any other way (especially the fingers and the lights showing through in their joints) than how I'd done for Cole Cassidy way back when he still had a different name XD

I know there is a relatively limited way in how and what parts you can use to build up a hand/forearm, but I just cannot unsee it, and I thought I'd share this tidbit fun fact as well XD

I hope you enjoyed these ramblings, and I promise to try and keep to the normal mid-month-ish schedule for September!

[flowerandblood]

Girl with a Pearl Earring

[modern! photographer • Aemond x female]

[warnings: dirty talk, domination, sexual tension, fluff]

[description: Aemond is a photographer dealing with works referring to the painting of the old masters. His sister poses in class for a girl who catches his attention. He decides that she would be a perfect model for one of his photos. Lots of sexual tension and slowly built fascination.]

Part 2 - Magdalene with the Smoking Flame

Part 3 - Ophelia

Part 4 - Lady with an Ermine

Part 5 - Rokeby Venus (End)

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

_____

It's been a long time since there was such a beautiful model in a painting class as Helaena Targaryen. With her fair, almost white hair, slender, fair face, snub nose, and blue eyes, she looked like an angel. She was able to create an amazing hairstyle with her combed braids.

The students and the professor decided to dress her in a blue gown, borrowed from costume designers from a nearby theater, in the style of seventeenth-century French fashion. Behind her was a large yellow background falling into the shade of warm gold. Even as herself, sitting half-profile towards them, she looked like a painting.

She had a great connection with her right away and they talked a lot. She knew that Helaena was the daughter of the dean of the university, a famous furniture maker and sculptor. Their entire family was famous for their strong commitment to the arts. She knew that Helaena's brother, Aemond, was in the fifth year of photography.

She was in her second year of painting and knew most of the people in his major - they often traded lecture halls - but he was always completely withdrawn. She had never seen him talk to anyone, he was always the first to leave the classroom.

Several girls from her year tried to flirt with him and get his attention, but their attempts ended in total failure. Still, she felt it wasn't fair that they were talking about him behind his back after being rejected. She tried not to express an opinion about him, because she didn't know him.

Even though it was known how Helaena got this temporary job, no one held any grudges about it because she bravely endured hours of posing without flinching. She decided to paint her portrait in the style of the Italian masters, starting with a monochromatic underpainting, applying the color with glazes in delicate layers. She was just starting to apply color to her face, making the character's face seem to emerge from the sketch around it.

The professor called a break and everyone got up to stretch a bit. Helaena stepped down from the platform and approached her, wanting to see how she was doing, as usual. She was delighted to see that the work was slowly moving to an advanced stage.

"What you do is amazing. You have real talent!” She said with her hand over her heart, playing with the chain. She smiled warmly at her.

They were talking for a while about ways of painting and different types of portraits when suddenly Aemond entered their room. He was looking for his sister with his eye, and when he saw her he walked towards her, greeting only the professor on the way.

"Ah, Aemond, thank you." Helaena said as he handed her apparently her own phone. "I had completely forgotten about him. Come closer, do you want to see how beautiful my new friend paints?” Helaena asked happily and she looked down in embarrassment. She guessed he didn't want to, but out of politeness he came over and stood behind them.

He literally said nothing. She glanced at him uncertainly over her shoulder and met his intense gaze which almost scared her. She blinked and opened her mouth slightly, then closed it, wondering if she should say something. She turned her head away, swallowing softly.

"Beautiful, isn't it? It makes me look like a baroque countess." Helaena said happily, looking at her brother.

Aemond only grunted, nodded, and stepped around her easel as he left the room. She looked at Helaena slightly shocked, but she seemed completely unfazed by his behavior.

"Is he always like this?" She asked quietly, wondering what had just happened. Helena laughed.

"Yes, he is very economical with words."

***

She entered the painting room first. She liked to look at her paintings from a distance before going back to work. When she looked at it with fresh eyes, she suddenly noticed all the mistakes she hadn't seen the day before.

It immediately caught her eye that she had painted one of the eyes a little too close to the nose. She immediately grabbed the brush, mixing the paints properly, wanting to fix it without even waiting for the model to show up.

She heard someone enter the room and, thinking it was Helaena, greeted loudly. Surprised after a while that no one answered her, she leaned over the easel and realized surprised, that her brother was standing in front of her.

Aemond, as usual, was dressed all in black. His black turtleneck emphasized his slender, long face and long, blond hair partly pulled back. He looked at her expectantly, as if he wanted to say something. She blinked, wondering what he might be looking for here, and suddenly it dawned on her.

“Helaena hasn't arrived yet, she'll probably be here in a few minutes. Should I tell her something?" She asked softly and smiled warmly at him. She decided that she would not be guided by the opinion of others and would form her own opinion about him.

Aemond turned his head, staring out the window, his mouth tight. He tapped his fingers on the sill as if thinking hard. After a moment he looked at her suddenly.

"Pose for me." He said indifferently, looking at her with a stony face. She sucked in a breath, completely taken aback by his proposal. She blinked, putting down her brush, looking at him curiously. She's never stood on the other side, modeling for someone.

“I take photos stylized as copies of paintings by old masters. I'd like you to pose for me as a Vermeer Girl with a Pearl Earring." He explained, apparently wanting to make it clear that he didn't mean the act or anything else that might seem inappropriate to her. She smiled widely.

"Very willingly! That sounds great. Will I also have to prepare the appropriate costume for this?" She asked, clearly excited, stepping closer to him. Aemond stared at her, surprised by her energy.

"No, that won't be necessary. I'll get you something." He said looking at her face thoughtfully. She blinked.

“I can sew well, and a lot of photography is about making the fabric look real. I can take care of it, I used to sew some historical costumes as a hobby.” She said lightly, looking at him expectantly. Aemond stared at her, clearly amazed at her commitment. He didn't seem to know what to say to her for a moment, because he hadn't expected such a pleased reaction.

“Well … if you want, of course, you can sew something. I'll bring something too. I will book a photo studio for next friday. Will you make it by then?" He asked softly, clearly appeased by the way she was acting.

"Yes, I will."

***

She was incredibly excited about his proposal. They exchanged phone numbers in case the studio was busy that day or needed to contact each other for other details about the shoot.

She had no idea why he chose her or what he saw in her, but she was very pleased that he wanted her to pose for him. She always dreamed of being someone's model, and she knew he was a talented photographer.

His pictures were really miniatures put in huge frames, almost like paintings. His photos, although colorful, had a kind of noise and blur that made the photo look old. He probably used special plates and exposure methods for this, but she wasn't very familiar with it. However, she knew that he was great at capturing the moment, chiaroscuro and color. There was something painterly about his photographs.

She spent one afternoon wandering around second-hand clothing stores where fabrics could be found cheaply. She was pleased that she had found everything she needed.

When she got home, she turned on her sewing machine, sewing a brown blouse for herself, and what she couldn't sew on the machine she sewed by hand.

She looked at herself in the mirror, looking at the effect of her work and decided that everything looked great. The fabrics she chose were soft and draped smoothly without looking artificial. She suddenly realized that she was missing the most important thing - a pearl earring. The pictures were to be taken the very next day, so she texted him quickly, scared.

[Y]: "I completely forgot that I need an earring, and I can't buy anything at this hour!"

After a few minutes, she saw that she had received a reply.

[Aemond]: "I was able to find a virtually identical pair of earrings at one of the pawnshops. I also have some fabrics if needed."

She took a quick portrait photo of her reflection and sent it to him along with the message.

[Y]: "I don't think any additional materials will be necessary."

He didn't write back to her for a long time. She got scared that he didn't like what she had created and started to worry. She jumped as her display lit up and she got a new message.

[Aemond]: "Well done."

***

She entered the studio at the time stated, looking around. Aemond was already inside, apparently adjusting the lighting. He just glanced at her and went back to working on setting the lamp.

"Close the door." He said coldly. She dutifully did as he asked and placed her backpack on one of the chairs against the wall. She took out all the materials she had prepared. She looked at him uncertainly.

"Can I change somewhere?" She asked quietly. Aemond looked at her in surprise and cleared his throat.

"Yes, you have a small storage room on the other side." He said, pointing to the opposite side of the room. "The door is open."

She nodded and quickly walked into the small room. With resignation she found that there was no mirror in it. There was no problem with putting on the shirts, but she had some issues with tying the bonnet and scarf.

Resigned, she poked her head out of the door, searching for him. He was looking through the camera at the place where she was supposed to be sitting.

"I need your help. I can't see if I tied it properly." She said pointing to the fabric on her head. Aemond motioned for her to come closer.

"Sit down. Here, like this.” He said, turning her with his hand, so that her body sat in profile to him. When he touched her with his large, cool hand, she shivered.

She watched him from below as he busied himself with tidying up her headgear. He glanced once in a while at the printed reproduction of the painting on the floor in front of him to get it right.

After a while he seemed pleased with the result. He handed her a pearl earring, and she put it on, empathizing with the person she was about to be. Aemond pulled away, took the camera in his hands and looked through the lens.

"Turn your head slightly towards me. No, not that much. Oh, that's right. Open your mouth slightly." He said matter-of-factly and suddenly she heard the sound of the camera shutter. Aemond pursed his lips.

"Don't look at me with such terrified eyes. Relax." He said and she swallowed softly, squeezed her eyes shut and tried to pull herself together.

This time she tried to keep her gaze soft. Aemond took the picture again. He pulled back and looked at her thoughtfully. His gaze was intense and he seemed to be thinking about something.

"Lick your lips." He said suddenly. She shivered at his words and looked at him in surprise, thinking she had misheard.

"What?" She asked quietly. Aemond looked at her expectantly.

"Rub your lips with your tongue. So that they shine." He recommended.

She felt her heart pounding. She blushed, ashamed and pursed her mouth, not looking at him, her tongue running slowly over her lips. She looked at him and saw that he swallowed softly.

He walked over to her and lowered the material of her shirt so that it showed more of her neck. She felt his fingers brush over her bare skin and gasped, wondering if he had done it on purpose. She looked at him and saw a shadow pass over his face.

"Yes. Look at me like that." He said, looking quickly through the lens. She lowered her eyes, embarrassed, feeling the tension in her whole body.

"Don't look away. Look at me. That's how you're supposed to look at me." He said in a tone that conveyed some kind of arousal and desire that made her shiver. She looked at him, her eyes hazy and slightly dreamy.

"Open your mouth." He ordered in a low voice, and when she did, he immediately took a series of photos of her.

"God, yes. Just like that." He said with a delight that made her even more embarrassed.

She lowered her eyelids, feeling her cheeks burn, pressing her lips together. Aemond looked at her with a mixture of admiration and something she couldn't name.

"Pose for me more often. I will pay you." He said suddenly and she looked at him surprised. She swallowed loudly.

"I… you don't have to pay me." She spluttered, looking away from him, looking down at her hands. She didn't know what was happening to her. She could feel his intense gaze on her, her heart pounding like crazy.

"Is that all?" She asked suddenly without looking at him.

Silence answered her. She heard him swallow hard.

"…yes, that's all." He spoke low, with a note of unreasonable uncertainty in his voice. She nodded and got up without looking at him, heading to the room where her things were.

She took off her costume and only now felt her hands tremble. She wondered what had just happened between them. She felt as if something inexplicable, artistic, intense and sensual had developed between them.

She left the room as soon as she was done. Aemond looked at her, obviously tense, looking at her expectantly. They looked at each other in silence.

"When can I see the result of your work?" She asked softly and saw him flinch as if he was thinking of something completely different, and her question brought him back to earth.

"On exhibition in two weeks." He said calmly, looking away. There was silence between them for a moment.

"Shall I go now?" She asked quietly, not knowing if he needed her for anything else. He looked at her in surprise and hesitated for a moment.

"Yes…yes, thank you, you can go." He said low. She nodded, said goodbye and left, closing the door behind her.

***

Aemond and she hadn't spoken to each other since the photos were taken. She saw him stare at her as they passed, but neither of them dared to speak. She wondered if he felt what she felt then too. She thought resignedly that his proposal was probably already out of date, but she had no intention of pestering him.

Helaena encouraged her to go with her to the exhibition. She had lost her will, but what Helaena said shocked her.

"Are you kidding? Your photo is at the center of his part of this exhibition. In the middle of the wall, in a beautiful frame, spotlit, the rest of his works are on the walls on the sides. This is probably his most beautiful picture!”

She blushed at her words and bowed her head. Her words made her feel that despite her fears she had to see it live.

What he saw on the other side of the lens.

That evening, she and Helaena arranged to meet outside the hall. She didn't want to go there alone, knowing that few people she knew would be there. She was grateful that she wanted to keep her company.

They went inside together, there were a lot of guests inside, talking intensely about something. The exhibition consisted of a series of works by several artist photographers, including Aemond. She noted with interest that her painting professor was also among the crowd.

At the very beginning there was a speech by the patron who funded the exhibition. He talked a bit about the assumptions of the exhibition, their artists and the works themselves. After it was over, as people rushed to fetch glasses of wine dispersing to explore, she saw with a lump in her throat what Helaena was talking about.

On the other side of the room hung her portrait. She had to get very close to it becasue photography was small in size, about the size of a notebook page.

The photo was slightly hazy, but sharp at the same time as if you could feel the air that was filling the studio at the time. She was delighted to see that indeed, the colors of her outfit perfectly reflected the saturation of those in the original painting.

She felt both awe and shame as she looked at her face. Her glossy lips were gently parted as if she was exhaling softly. Her gaze was warm, hazy, full of some unspoken, intense feeling.

She gave the impression that she wanted to say something to the viewer, as if she was already opening her mouth to say the words. She thought it was indeed a great photo and barely recognized herself in it.

She swallowed hard as she saw that indeed, her gold-framed picture was the only one on the main wall, the rest of his work was more closely spaced on the side walls. He clearly made this work the focus of his exhibition.

She looked curiously at his other works, and saw that they too alluded to the works of the old masters. She flinched as she heard a low voice behind her.

"What do you think?" Aemond asked, standing literally inches from her. He was so close she could feel his hot breath. She looked at him over her shoulder, confused.

"It's beautiful." She said softly. Aemond looked down at her, his gaze dark. He took a sip of wine from his glass, looking at her searchingly.

“I agreed with my professor on the subject of my diploma thesis. I want you to pose for me for female portraits like this one." He spoke calmly and matter-of-factly. She opened her mouth in surprise and blinked rapidly.

"I… I'd be very happy if I could help you." She said softly and smiled warmly, trying to control her facial expressions and her trembling heart.

Aemond looked at her intently. He pursed his lips, apparently debating whether or not to say what he was thinking.

"Be my muse."

_____

I decided that I wanted to write something that would be a one-shot and I came up with this idea. I really like what came out of it and I'm curious about your opinion. Let me know if you'd like it to be a mini series with other paintings in the background. If you want to be tagged, leave a comment below. ♥

@zenka69 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff

[succubusonthedoorstep]

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ArtTeacher! Geto x Fem Reader! ᖭི༏ᖫྀ (1.1 Word Count.)

Warnings? Gojo's sweet tooth, shy reader, vibrator use, butt plugs, edging, implied cunnilingus? jealousy, peeking down shirts, sir kink. painting is Geto's love language. +18 Only! No Minors Allowed! (Part Two.)

Author's Notes? still writing my jean and eren x reader fic, but here's something I've been sitting on for a moment!! <3 (Like, reblog, and comment please!)

ArtTeacher!Geto who enjoys instructing the acrylic painting weekend course. He’s been at it for about a year, lending his Sundays to locals and students. Most looking to sharpen their skills but some seeking a new pastime. Gojo did him a favor, pulling strings at the university to give Geto a classroom (with air conditioning!) rather than the offered room in the student center. However, it was pretty isolated, a feature he learned to love after meeting you.

ArtTeacher!Geto unlocks his door an hour before his class is due to start. Students seldom came early but he left the option open anyway. Sometimes Gojo visited, usually to hand him some small, sweet cake he couldn’t help but rave about. While cleaning the paint palettes and setting up for class, the door slams shut from behind him. 

ArtTeacher!Geto whips around, eyes landing on you. He couldn’t help but immediately notice how cute you were, holding art supplies in your arms. The faucet dripped lightly behind him, brushes now forgotten. His thin white button-down shirt was rolled up to his elbows, a feature your eyes lingered on as you started explaining.  “Sorry for the scare, I know your class doesn’t start for another half an hour…” 

ArtTeacher!Geto alleviates your worries, insisting he’d never turn away an eager student. He stops what he was doing to help you set up on the easel closest to his desk, asking why he’d never seen you in his class before. 

ArtTeacher!Geto can’t listen more intently to you speak. Your voice was melodic to him, echoing slightly from the walls when you laugh at his joke about leaving home. You just moved into the city for a job opportunity and wanted to socialize in a familiar place, the art studio. He noticed some of your paints were used and you held the brush the same way he did. You were no amateur, that was for sure.

ArtTeacher!Geto’s mood goes sour once class starts. He generally enjoyed his classes, but he only wanted to be around you today. Of course, he'll still play his role well- complimenting brush strokes, giving feedback, and staring contemplatively at completed works. The whole time he’s thinking of you on the other side of the room. The image of you, in his well-lit traditionally styled studio, made his heart jump. You’d be wearing the thinnest, finest silk as you lounge for him across a chaise sofa. 

He could torture you for hours there- a plug up your ass and a vibrator for your pussy whenever he’d get bored with his work. Geto would paint you for hours, finding joy in matching his paints to your skin tone, lips, and nipples. (Even if the silk limited his view.) 

‘Enjoying the view, Geto?’ You ask, holding your arm over the end of the sofa like he asked. ‘I’ve never seen you take so long for a sketch.’

“Patience, patience,” he cooed, taking another slick glance at your most intimate parts while you yawn. “So many details to take note of, it won’t be a worthy painting of you if I miss a single one.” His easel was positioned for you as well. You had the perfect view of him working and could lean over the other end of the couch to check his progress.

Both of you knew that was out of the question, however. The little pink toy between your legs prevented any unauthorized movement. Geto was a cruel lover- dragging you just to the edge of orgasm only to press the toy to your hole and call you greedy for needing more.

Without warning the toy came to life, buzzing lowly and drawing soft breaths from your mouth. Geto, no longer interested in painting, watched your reactions with the matching remote in one hand as he palmed his cock with the other. 

“You won’t cum,” he challenged, turning the vibrator up to a higher setting. He watched as you squirmed in ecstasy, his teasing from earlier coming back for you. Leaning back onto the arm of the couch, you spread your legs for Geto’s view and let him hear the sweet moans he loved so much.

“Missing all those d-details,” you expressed, hips lifting from the sofa in pleasure. Geto couldn’t take his eyes off of you. “Is this part of your creative process?” You asked, sliding the silk robe up your legs and exposing your glistening cunt.

The stool he sat on fell over at the force he used to stand up and make his way over to the couch. Geto’s knees met the floor harshly, hands finding your thighs to push them apart and make room for his face. 

“Just need a closer look, is all…”

ArtTeacher!Geto’s fantasy is ruined at the trilling of his alarm bell. Class was over. His students were already packed and filing out of class, their goodbye’s drowned out by him searching for you.

ArtTeacher!Geto smiles when he catches your eye and waves you over. His smile falters as he watches you wave goodbye to a third-year at the university, some kid with pink hair. Geto pushes his jealousy off; he’s never in competition.

ArtTeacher!Geto has to hide a smirk when you approach his desk, clearly in high spirits.

“Thank you for class, sir. I met a lot of good people,” You gush, and Geto has to push in his chair more at the name. “I’d love to come back, when’s the next-”

“Next Sunday,” He recites it like the gospel now. The tightness in his pants only gets worse as he watches you take a sticky note from his desk and scribble your name and number on it. Geto casts a brief look down your shirt when you bend over to write, silently thankful for a memory he can use later.

ArtTeacher!Geto takes the sticky note from you with an appreciative grin, brushing his fingers with yours and melting when a flustered look crossed your face, breaking eye contact.

“See you next week, sir.”

send me prompts so i can post between fics mwah (like, comment and reblog!)

© succubusonthedoorstep2023. all rights reserved. please do not copy, repost, steal, or translate my work.

[fetusgooseandjuice]

I’ll Always Find You

Pairings: Shuri Udaku x fem!reader

Summary: When your girlfriend is sent on a mission that turns out to be a set up, her enemies take the opportunity to abduct you for your talents.

Word Count: 4,131

Your POV:

"Do you have everything you need?" I asked.

"Uh I think so."  Shuri replied a little uncertain as she finished getting ready.

The Dora Milaje had just given Shuri notice of a new threat on the outskirts of Wakanda, and now she was suiting up to go take care of it. The Jabari Tribe was currently at war with other tribes, and Nakia was going with Shuri, so I was going to be alone in the palace.

Shuri was hesitant on leaving me by myself, but I insisted she went. She also didn't really have a choice, as it was her duty. But, I didn't mind being alone because it gave me some time to work on the new suits I was making for the Dora Milaje.

I handed the almost forgotten kimoyo beads to her, "And this is why you have me." I teased.

"Ah thank you, baby." she said, putting the kimoyo beads on her wrist as I hummed. She put one hand on the back of my neck, and the other on my waist, pulling me closer to her body so she could lean down to gently kiss me.

I held onto both of her arms as we got lost in each other, completely forgetting about the mission that needed to be taken care of. That was until someone entered the lab.

"Alright you two, calm yourselves. Shuri, we've got places to be. You'll see your baby later." Okoye joked, making her way into the room.

We pulled away and turned our heads. "Must you alway do this." Shuri sighed, playfully annoyed.

"Hey, I was just coming to let you know that the Talon Fighter was ready whenever you are." she put her hands up, defending herself.

"Okay, okay thank you. I'll be right there just go away." she said trying to hide a smile, but failing miserably.

Okoye raised her eyebrow while walking away with a smirk on her face. Shuri sighed and looked back down at me.

"You sure you're gonna be okay here by yourself for a few hours?" she asked softly.

"Yeah I'll be fine don't worry. Those suits are probably gonna keep my occupied most of the time anyways." I smiled up at her.

"Alright, well you have your kimoyo beads right? If you need anything you can always tell me or even get Griot to contact me." her protective nature over me was making itself known.

"Yes Shuri, I have them. Now get going everyone's probably waiting on you." I urged her.

"I'm going, Im going- wait one more kiss." she pleaded and I playfully rolled my eyes as she gave me a deep, passionate kiss.

"I love you." she whispered when we pulled away.

"I love you too. Promise me you'll come back to me in one piece." I made her give me her word.

"I Promise. I always do, my love." she smiled and gave me one last peck before turning and walking out of the room.

I sighed and made my way over to the table I was originally working at before Shuri came to inform me of the situation. I sat down in the chair and picked up my pencil, beginning to sketch out my next step.

~~~

The sun was now almost completely set as I finished my drawing. Admiring my work, I wanted to make a few changes to some parts of it, but I decided to get a snack before I start that because it must've been a while since I last ate considering my growling stomach.

"Hey Griot, what time is it?" I asked the AI.

"It is currently 6:26 Miss Y/L/N."

"I'll take a quick break and then get back to work." I thought to myself.

I exited the lab and made my way into the kitchen, grabbing a bag of chips and water. I sat down to eat and scroll through my phone. I got bored about 15 minutes later, but when an idea for the suits popped into my head, I cleaned up my mess and made my way back into the lab.

I sat back down and began erasing and redrawing the parts I had wanted to change. I was deep in thought until I heard a loud thud. Confused, I looked up and my eyes scanned around the room. No one should be in here since everyone was out.

When I didn't see anyone in the room, I pushed my chair back and stood up, slowly walking towards the lab exit. Peeking my head out, I looked to my left and then the right, but saw no one. I fully exited the lab and started walking down one of the hallways.

As I went to turn a corner, I felt someone grab me from behind. I didn't get a chance to scream because they quickly held a cloth over my mouth and nose. I struggled to get out of their grip until I felt myself getting weaker, eventually passing out.

~~~

Shuri's POV:

We were currently in a fight with the trespassers. They weren't that skilled in battle, there was just a lot of them. I came face to face with the leader of them when they began to speak.

"How's that girl of yours doing, hm?" they suddenly asked.

"That girl- Y/N?" I was confused as to how they knew about her and why they brought her up.

"Is that her name? That information was never really at the top of my priority list while trying to locate her." they said.

"Locate her? What are you talking about? Why are you looking for Y/N?" I questioned angrily. I was getting impatient and concerned about my girl.

"That you don't need to worry about. I would worry about the fact that we're no longer looking for her because we've already got her. Please know that this little fight was never a personal thing, we just needed you out of the way." they smirked before retreating along with the rest of their group, leaving me stunned and speechless.

All of the information that was just given to me was now processing. They needed me out of the way so they could get to Y/N? This was all a set up? It was all clicking.

"Okoye, Nakia, Aneka, I need you to get back to the aircraft right now." I spoke to them using my kimoyo beads.

Quickly making my way back to the aircraft, I ran inside and they were already there waiting for me.

"What happened? Why did they all just flee like that?" Okoye questioned.

I set the Fighter in autopilot to take us home while I explained everything to them.

"I-it was a trap. A set up. We need to get back to Y/N because the leader of that group said s-something about how they just needed us out of the way so they could get to Y/N." I quickly explained and stuttered along the way because I was getting really anxious.

"Wait so they have Y/N?" Nakia spoke up.

"I think so and we don't even know anything about these people or how they managed to get into the palace undetected." I said.

"Okay let's think about this for a minute. Shouldn't you be able to track her kimoyo beads?" Okoye suggested.

"I was already working on doing that, but it's saying that they're still at the palace, and I have no way to tell if she really is there because the security cameras were deactivated." I sighed, feeling defeated

"Okay then when we get back we'll be able to take a closer look. See if there's anything to help us. And there is a possibility that she's still there and this was all just some sick attempt at scaring us, right?" Aneka added.

"Yeah it'll be alright." Okoye reassured, putting a hand on my shoulder.

~~~

When we arrived home, I barely gave the doors time to open before I darted out of aircraft, and inside the palace.

"Y/N?! Y/N are you here?!" I was running down all of the hallways trying to find anything. I paused when I saw something lying on the floor. I walked closer to the object to get a better look and picked it up. Her kimoyo beads.

"She's not here. We checked the other side of the palace." Okoye said as we all ended up in the same hallway.

I sighed and turned around, pacing, trying to figure out what to do next.

"I'll try to get the Griot up and running again to see if he has any information. Can you just check outside to see if there's anything?" I pleaded to them.

"Aneka and I will. Okoye, you stay with Shuri and keep her company." Nakia asked and Okoye nodded before they left to go look outside.

I made my way back into the lab and started working.

"I can't believe the last time I saw her was just a few hours ago." I said quietly and Okoye just let me talk.

"I promised her I'd come back to her, but I was too late. I should've known." I shook my head.

"Shuri, you couldn't have predicted that. I mean they tricked all of us, it wasn't just you. You can't blame yourself, and I don't think Y/N will blame you either when we find her." Okoye said.

"Yeah well I'm the one who left her alone. My gut was telling me not to and I didn't listen. I left her." I whispered the last part.

"It's not your fault. You went to go protect your country, and the threat wasn't what any of us expected." she was trying to convince me that I couldn't have known any better.

"I went to go protect my country when in reality I should've been here protecting her." I said blankly.

She didn't get a chance to respond because there was a loud beep as I had finally succeeded in activating Griot once again. I pumped my fists in victory. We haven't found Y/N yet, but this is a start.

"Griot, do you have any security footage stored in your database from the last 4 hours?" I asked hopefully.

"It appears that I do. I was not deactivated until minutes after the incident. I will now project the footage for you." he said and I silently thanked my ancestors.

He showed us the video and Okoye stood up next to me to watch it too.

I saw Y/N working at her desk when there was a noise that got her attention. She got up and walked out of the lab very cautiously. I observed a figure dressed in all black grasp her from behind and roughly place a cloth over her face. I watched with tears in my eyes as she tried to fight back, but was unsuccessful when she passed out. They must've had some type of sedative in the cloth that caused her to go unconscious. I felt anger wash over me when they slipped her kimoyo heads off of her wrist and onto the floor, carrying her out of the video frame.

"Griot turn it off." I demanded, finding it hard to watch, and it disappeared.

Now that I had a clear video of the person, I should be able to identify them and then find a location. Wherever they are, Y/N had to be there too.

It didn't take me very long to find coordinates. Only about 20 minutes. I had Okoye notify Aneka and Nakia and tell them I needed them to come too. We boarded the Fighter and took off.

~~~

Your POV:

My eyes slowly fluttered open as I regained consciousness. I used my arms to push me to sit up, and took in my surroundings. I was on the floor in a dark room. When my eyes adjusted to the lighting, I noticed that it was a cell made up of glass walls.

My head turned at the sound of a beep and a door opening, three people walked in. Two of them appearing to be guards.

"Y/N! I see you're finally awake. How are you feeling?" a tall man asked me.

I just stared at him. He was crazy for thinking that I was going to talk to him after he quite literally kidnapped me.

"Silent treatment. I see. Well I don't plan on causing you any harm. I just heard you were one of the finest technical designers in Wakanda and I just had to have you complete a small little project for me." he said way too enthusiastically, leaning against a wall.

"I couldn't even think about taking Shuri because well, she's clearly proved her ability to put up a fight, and it would just be too difficult. But you'll do just fine, won't you?" he asked raising his eyebrow.

"I'm not making anything for you. You must be out of your mind if you ever thought I would." I muttered.

"Thought you might say that." he looked down and sighed.

He opened the door to the room I was in and closed it, slowly stalking towards me and bending down to my level as I was still on the ground.

"You see I was trying to be nice at first, but it seems like you don't wanna reciprocate, and i've run out of patience. I know I said I wasn't planning on causing you any harm, but i'll fit that into my schedule if it comes down to that." he said sternly, only a few inches away from my face.

I broke eye contact with him and looked anywhere that wasn't towards him, responding with silence. That must've set him off because he then harshly backhanded me, the silver rings on his fingers bound to make bruises appear on my cheek sooner or later.

He roughly grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him, "I gave you a chance and you refused to take it. Now we'll just have to see how long it’ll take you to comply the hard way." he was stone-faced as he turned to walk out the door, the two other men following behind.

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding, and let my upper body fall into the glass so I was sitting propped up against the wall.

Shuri's basically the smartest person in the world. She would've had to have noticed something was wrong, right?

~~~

Shuri's POV:

"Right so you guys all understand what is expected of you, correct?" I just finished going over the game plan with them as we approached the building.

"Yes, your highness." Nakia responded while Aneka and Okoye nodded their heads.

"Stay on your feet and please, be smart. We can’t risk anything because we're not leaving without Y/N." I said looking between the three of them as they nodded.

We went off our separate ways and discreetly entered the building. It was quiet empty considering the fact that they're holding someone here against their will. I opened every door and searched inside, feeling disappointed when Y/N was never in any of the rooms.

I came across another door. I opened it and saw that it led to a basement. As I made my way down the stairs I was automatically met with two men who instantly attacked me.

Like the people we fought earlier, they weren't very skilled, so I took them out easily since there were only a couple of them.

When they were unconscious, I continued my walk towards the end of the hallway and came across a double door. I tried to open it, but it was locked. Looking around, I saw that the door needed a keycard in order to be unlocked.

I ran back down the hallway to the bottom of the stairs and started to look in the pockets of the guards lying on the floor. I came up empty handed after searching the first one, but the second one had a keycard in their pocket.

Grabbing the card and running back, I hoped that it would unlock the door, and it miraculously did. When I opened the door, my heart broke at the sight of my love sitting on the floor of such a tiny, dark space.

"Oh my god Y/N?!" I loudly whispered, disabling my mask with my kimoyo beads, and her head perked up.

"Shuri!" she said and stood up to scurry over to the front of the small room she was in. I darted over to the glass wall that was separating us and my eyes scanned her body for injuries. I noticed a bruise forming under her eye.

"Are you okay? Did they do that to you? I swear i'm gonna-"she interrupted me.

"I'm okay, i'm okay I promise." she reassured me with a small smile on her face.

I saw the door to the room she was in and I tugged on the handled, but it was obviously locked. I thought for a second before an idea popped into my head.

"I'm gonna get you out, okay? Just sit down in the corner back there and cover your face." she did as I told her.

I stepped back to gain momentum in my punch, trying to break the glass. It only took three hits for it to shatter and I sprinted towards her, kneeling down in front of her, gently moving her hands away from her face.

"Are you hurt anywhere else, darling? Is it just that bruise? What else did they do to you?" I frantically asked, turning her head to check her neck, and I started to lift up her shirt to check her torso before she stopped me.

"I'm fine, Shuri. It was just that bruise. I'm okay." she softly told me as I carefully cupped her cheeks, stroking my thumb under the mark so I didn't hurt her.

"Okay well we need to leave now. I'm sure they've already noticed we're here and I've got to get you out of this place.” I said and started to help her stand up until someone else starting speaking.

"Aw wasn't that just adorable." a voice said.

I quickly spun around getting into fighting stance, ready to defend my girl, but relaxed when I saw Okoye, Nakia, and Aneka standing in the doorway.

"You can't just sneak up on me like that. I could've hurt you guys." I jokingly lectured them.

"You? Hurt me? Ha, you're funny." Okoye snickered.

"Uh what she means to say is that we dealt with big boss man for you." Aneka interrupted.

"Big boss man. Really?" I raised my eyebrows.

"How was I supposed to know his name?" she explained herself.

I shook my head with a small laugh, "Thanks guys. I owe you for this."

"Just doing our job, you highness." Aneka nodded at me.

"You guys can head to the aircraft. We'll meet you there." I told them before they disappeared out of sight.

I turned around and saw Y/N standing up.

"Hey, no walking for you, princess." I frowned.

"Shuri I said I'm okay, my legs are working perfectly fine." she tried to reason with me but I shook my head, picking her up off of her feet bridal style and stepping over the glass to walk out of the building.

As I entered the aircraft, I put Y/N down on a table and pulled a chair up in front of her for me to sit in. I asked Nakia to get me the first aid kit so I could treat the bruise on her face.

"So we saw how it happened. You know, how they got you out of the palace. But, we don't know why they were looking for you specifically. Did they say anything to you while you were there?" I was trying to understand why this all happened to her.

"Yeah um. They wanted me to make something for them. I guess they found out about the technology I designed for Wakanda, and they needed me to make something for them. Said they didn't want to take you because it would be too complicated." she explained.

I nodded my head connecting all of the dots with the information that I knew. Nakia came back with the first aid kit and handed it to me, I thanked her.

"How did you know that I was gone?" she asked.

I sighed and stood up between her legs, opening the box and pulling out the things I needed, "The man who took you was the leader of the group that we were in combat with earlier today. They needed all of our best defenders out of the picture to get to you, so they set us up. It was all a trick." I told her as I began treating the cut on her bruise.

Y/N was a very observant person and she could read me like a book. That's why she could tell how guilty I was feeling despite me trying to mask it.

"Don't tell me you think this is your fault, Shuri." she said.

"I can't help but think it is. You needed me and I wasn't there. Plain and simple." I shook my head at myself.

"Shuri, you couldn't have known. I didn't know. No one knew. So don't beat yourself up over this." she whispered.

I sighed and put down the cotton swab I was working with, "I know, I'm sorry. I just feel like I should've been there for you." I put my hand on the side her her jaw and stroked my thumb over her cheek. I tend to do that a lot because I know she finds it comforting.

"Well you found me. You're here now." she said, trying to find the positives in this situation like she always does. I admire that about her.

"I'll always find you, love." I softly told her. She gave me that sweet smile of hers and I couldn't help but smile too. Craving the feel of her lips against mine was an understatement. The last time I got to feel them was before I left and I needed to kiss those lips.

"I love you, sweet girl." I said staring into her eyes.

"I love you, too." she whispered.

I moved my hand to her chin and tilted her head up, giving her slow and soft kisses while my other hand fell onto her thigh. I could feel her relax under my touch as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

We continued like this for a couple minutes until footsteps caught Y/N's attention. I wasn't aware of them yet, so when she tried to break the kiss I just pulled her closer.

"Baby-" she managed to get out in between kisses, pushing on my chest and I stopped.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" I asked, worried that I did something wrong. I followed her eyes to see what she was looking at.

"I leave for 5 minutes and you can't keep your hands to yourselves?" Okoye jokingly questioned.

I groaned and threw my head back, "Why do you always do this." I whined.

"It's not my fault you didn't consider the fact that you're in this aircraft with 3 other people." she shrugged.

I rolled my eyes at her before she spoke up again, "I was just coming to tell you that due to the weather we're going to have to slow down the flight speed and it's gonna take a little while to get home, so get comfy. But now I see that you already were very comfortable." she teased.

"Oh go away, Okoye." I said, playfully annoyed.

"I'm going, calm down." she said and walked back to wherever she came from.

I turned my head to look back down at Y/N, "You look so tired, darling." I observed.

"So do you." she said and furrowed her eyebrows.

"Well in that case, up you go." I picked her up under her thighs and her legs wrapped around my waist, her arms wrapping around my neck.

I walked over to a couch and sat down with her in my arms, turning my body so I could lay down with my head propped up on the arm of it. Y/N moved herself to lay down on top of me, her legs tangling with mine as her head fell onto my chest.

Her hand went to play with my necklace, and my hand went under her shirt to rub her bare back, lulling her into a deep sleep that would last for most of the ride home.

[mqsi]

hey i love your writing and was wondering if you could do one where reader is besties with balde and he brings reader with him to training almost every time they train but reader is bored so they draw while barca train and they cant help but draw more and more portraits of pedri, analyse him and stuff (like gradually catching feelings for him - crush) and one day they leave their sketchbook somehwere and balde and pedri find it and then everything is up to you :) thank you for letting me rant

Hi love, thank you! As an artist myself I’m happy for this request💙

——————————————————————————

You were close friends with Balde so It was expected from him to go and drag you on his practice or anything that included football. You were happy to attend his games but training grounds were something else.

You met a lot of his teammates but watching them train gradually became boring yet you didn’t want to disappoint your friend by not tagging along whenever he calls. You found escape in bringing a sketchbook, at first just sketching Balde in various poses.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander on a certain brunette, analysing his form. You respected Pedri as a player and he was also nice in person. But his good looks were a nice bonus as well. You got lost in thought as you pulled the lines on the paper, sketching Pedri’s face. A slight blush crept up your cheeks.

Next time, you let yourself draw his full body. His arms exposed with sweat decorating the skin. You caught yourself analysing his features, the way his nose curved and the stubble on his chin. The way his hair flew in the wind and his eyes turned to honey in the sun.

How he rolls the shorts up and the way he smiles. How he playfully pushes Gavi or teases Ferran. From practice to practice, your sketchbook became full of Pedri in different situations. That’s when you realized that you might have developed a crush for the midfielder.

Just as you placed down the sketchbook on the bench next to you, Balde came running to you, seemingly running away from someone.

“HELP ME” he yelled, pulling you off the bench. You started laughing and played along with the tag game they started on the field. So much that you forgot about the sketchbook on the bench, leaving without it.

On his way back to the locker room, Pedri noticed your little treasure. He immidiately knew it was yours, as he noticed you always holding a pen and 9/10 times looking at him. So the drawings were no surprise when he flipped trough the pages.

Being honest, he did always find you quite cute. The way you scrunched your face in concetration while drawing and how you taught that he didn’t catch your stares.

That’s when he got an idea. Since you already left with Balde, he pulled out his phone and called him.

“We were together 15 minutes ago?”

“Yeah I am not calling for you, are you still with y/n? Can you give her the phone?”

Balde made a face but handed you the phone anyway.

“Hey?” You asked, still completely unaware that your sketchbook was forgotten, let alone in Pedri’s hands.

“Hey hermosa, don’t you think you left something?”

Your eyes widened at the realization. Suddenly, your face was hot and breathing was harder.

“Um, can you leave it where you found it, I’ll come back for it now”

“Uh oh, I’m worried that It’s already in my bag and I’m already in my car so if you want it, you can come over and I’ll give it to you” Pedri said, which was obviously a lie since he was standing in the middle of the field still.

“What?” You nervously asked.

“You heard me, and I don’t see the problem really, it seems that you enjoy looking at me”

You felt your face heat up even more and you tried to compose yourself to speak.

“Fine, I’ll ask Balde to drop me off at your place later today, is that okay?”

“More than okay”

——————————————————————————

a/n: I HAD TO USE Y/N HERE CAUSE THERE WAS NO OTHER WAY FOR HIM TO ASK AND I HATE IT

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Poets and Painters (Midday) - Wolffe x Reader [Mature Fic]

Warnings and Information: In desperate need of just one day to take his and his men's mind off the war, Plo Koon orders that everyone make a stop on a relatively uninhabited planet in a peaceful sector of the galaxy to… have a picnic? Just what does he have in mind? A certain flint-gray Commander is finding it hard to believe that they're just on the planet for a day of R&R in the middle of a war, so he isn't letting his guard down. Perhaps someone will help Commander Wolffe find some way to help him relax before the day is over… 2nd person POV. Reader is undescribed save for minor details like personal touches to a uniform, and has a gender-neutral alias. Allusions to canon-typical violence, mention of injury and loss, and Plo just being a dad to the 104th Battalion in the background. Swearing. Discussion of more adult themes and some lewd jokes the more the fic progresses (this is not an Explicit fic but it is Mature; Minors please DNI). Takes place on a fictional planet.

Word count: 4,665

The trick to keeping Commander Wolffe from prowling the edge of the clearing like a caged animal had been surprising. To everyone. 

Allowing him to watch you work keeps him seated on the hill beside you, where he does not worry his brothers or Master Plo Koon by continuing to make lap after lap. He had left your side once, to take a look at something the Clone pilot Warthog had to show him, and then did a little shiny-wrangling (namely Soapsuds) because they were too close to the forest for his comfort, but he was quick to return. 

He's not much of a conversational partner, whether that's out of respect for you to let you concentrate, or simply a product of his personality. When he has something to say, Wolffe keeps it brief. 

"I'm not that pale." 

"But your scar is." you reply with a gentle smile and a soft laugh, carefully adding traces of a lighter flesh-tone to the vertical stripe of scar tissue in your sketching of the Commander. You keep your pressure light on the page, and make your best efforts to keep the strokes in roughly the same orientation. The smile gives way to a frown the longer you fill in the length of his scar on the page. Your heart hurts for what happened to him at the hands of a dark Force-wielder. What her blade did to him. "I imagine it was quite painful, to lose your eye…" 

"Yes." Wolffe replies in a clipped voice, suggesting to you that while he does not want to dismiss your sympathies, he clearly must not want to talk about this with someone he does not know, either. You feel a tug on the lapel of your uniform, and the gloved pad of his thumb brushes over something. Oh. You'd forgotten about that. "You added a wolf's head into your uniform, Arcadia?" He's changing the subject. And that's okay. 

That's more than okay. 

Glancing down best you can, you see the sloppy replication the flint-gray Commander refers to. The thread used for the head is a steely gray, the stitches are almost invisible and camouflaged in the color of the uniform, save for the eyes in your favorite color. It was meant to be practice for repairing holes in your clothing, you explain. "For emergency situations. I wanted to see if my stitches would hold up after being washed. I completely forgot it was there." You don't explain why you went with the image of a wolf. You won't need to, in his presence.

It's easy enough to guess why this would be the animal, of all possible choices available to you in this galaxy, you would stitch into your lapel. The name surrounds you. Wolfpack. General Plo's callsign is Wolf Leader when they engage in battle by starfighter. 

It is the name of the man next to you - granted it bears an additional forn and an esk. 

Wesk-osk-leth-forn-forn-esk. 

Wolffe. 

"It held up well." he compliments you, releasing the fold of the lapel and assuming his silence once more. Degree by degree, you are seeing he is not eternally gruff or cold with you, or anyone: merely a man made stoic and far more vigilant than before by war. In his vigilance, he continues to visually sweep the field for signs of trouble or mischief. 

Maybe, while he's distracted…

You stealthily swap out the current coloring pencil in your hand - a deeper skin tone - and pluck out the Lamp Black pencil in the mix, drifting your hand lower down the page until the end of the pencil was now lined up with the loosely defined crotch and codpiece of his armor. 

Maker alive let's just get this over with. 

The body glove is going to be innocent enough to fill in, but defining the shadows around the pubic bulge in his kit will be faster. Just keep it quick and be discreet. Work fast. Hope no one sees. Hope no one asks. 

Your pulse screams in your veins when he clears his throat - loudly - next to you, and you are so certain he is now trained on you, and acutely aware of where your pencil is. "Hm-mm…" Oh kriff me sideways. "Excuse me," he apologizes, clearing his throat again softer this time, "didn't mean to startle you, but I was trying to catch Suds' attention." Thank the Maker he didn't look when he apologized. Just a few more marks to finish shading in the codpiece, and then you can start on the body suit. "O-oh. Is he wandering off again?" 

"Looked like he was about to." 

Still breathing down their necks even from here? "Y'know-"

"As their Commander I am going to look out for my brothers, Arcadia." He sounds neither happy or unhappy with what he assumed you would say. And it's fair of him to assume that, in a sense. You only wish he didn't have to feel so defensive. 

"I understand that," you promise him, and for the moment, you set down the pencil in your hand so you are not dividing your attention between the artwork and Wolffe. "and I wasn't telling you to stop, either. I only wanted to warn you that, I think, General Plo Koon seems worried about you, that something is keeping you from enjoying yourself." 

To his credit, he gives your words a moment of quiet contemplation. Whether that's to consider the truth behind the words you said, or to come up with an explanation of sorts, Wolffe remains silent and still like the forest that surrounds you on all sides. What secrets does that forest hold? What lives within? 

What will you find other than sap and blood on your palms when you pull back the thorny branches? 

"I don't believe we're here just to relax for a day." Commander Wolffe admits with a heavy look of guilt and uncertainty. "I think the General has other reasons for bringing us to Little Archossi, and he won't tell us." 

"Reasons? Like what?" You pick the pencil back up, and return to the slow, gradual task of adding color to the page. You're going to give him time to think. Time to answer, if he even wants to. He may not. Warning him that he's possibly made his General concerned about him seems to shake him down, somewhat. "I'm sorry." 

It's reflexive, apologizing for upsetting him. That seems to pull him out of his silence, for the moment. "Don't be, Arcadia. I'm not going to fault you for having good intentions. Or a good eye." 

The kri-? 

In dawning horror, you see and fully realize where your pencil lead is. And looking over at him, you see that he does too. "I-I'm so sorry, sir…" You admit that you hoped he wouldn't notice, and that adding the necessary shading and color around areas that carry their shares of suggestive and sexual imagery and connotations would have been completed with as little attention drawn to it as possible. While you're not exactly ashamed to have drawn those parts of him, you feel a bit awkward to have him take notice of your work when you add the color. 

Half of his mouth quirks in a smile, an expression of his respect, understanding that took guts to admit. "That's nothing to apologize for. It's just part of the art, Arcadia. A little "awkward" would only be understandable. Would you feel better if I purposely didn't watch?" 

Well, seeing as how you're almost done with the inner thigh, you don't see much of a point to the gesture in this part of the progress. But, he did offer. And this seems to be what's keeping him seated in the grass. And what's keeping Plo Koon freer to spend less time being concerned about his diligent commander, and more time in showing his troops more aspects of Kel Dor culture and history, it seems. (Orchid keeps asking questions that Tack could easily answer about Dorin, and it serves as a neat little lesson for some of their newer shinnies. Plo is certainly grateful for the curiosity that allows him to be a teacher, rather than a fighter, today.) 

You shrug lazily, laughing softly under your breath. "I'll leave that up to you, sir. At this point…" 

Wolffe chooses to keep an eye on his brothers, so you make the process of shading the inner thighs quick, while being careful not to get sloppy. You're not trying to recreate a master painter's work here in the first page of your sketchbook, but you don't want to look at this one day and become filled with the urge to tear it out because all you can see are glaring imperfections, either. That's nothing but a fanciful daydream of making so much progress in your artistic prowess that you would ever be struck with such a thought, of course. 

You are preoccupied with a war against the Separatists: when would you ever have the chance to make regular progress and impressive strides without backsliding and the natural degradation of your skills when you do not use them? You're a small part of the busy crew that keeps the Triumphant running smoothly. 

People constantly need you. And that's all well and good, but sometimes you find yourself running into the same problem over and over again that crews of this size inevitably face: when you, who provides the help, needs someone, who is there for you? Do you turn to another crewmate who is already up to their neck in all the problems they juggle? Turning to one of the Clone troopers is ill-advised, no matter how much they swear they don't mind lending a hand or an arm (or two) to assist. 

You've been doing fine aboard the Triumphant; better than fine, in fact. But that worry claws at you, sometimes. I'm here to help everyone. But if I needed help, who would I go to?

Who does the Commander go to when he needs help, come to think of it… General Plo? Or maybe Sergeants Sinker and Boost, if the matter was a little closer to the heart, something he believed was best kept between brothers? 

Who does Wolffe turn to in his hours of need, you wonder. 

You need to rest your wrist, and soon. You have just a little more of this tree's canopy to color in though, and then you're calling it good. You've been working on this "sketch" for more than three hours with the Commander at your side. You want to have this done soon. You want to go check out some of these things other crewmates have been laughing themselves silly over for the last hour that leave them gasping and wheezing for breath, clutching their sides and drying their faces. You're burning to know what's so funny, why they keep calling your name to come see. 

Curiously guessing over and over what General Plo's reaction will be when you show him this amateurish endeavor in outdoor art drives you to continue, however. Just a few more tiny, feather-shaped leaves… Wolffe notices the sharp twinge in your face, and the uncomfortable spasm in your fingers as you adjust your grip around the Sunflower coloring pencil. 

"Getting painful?" 

"Just a little." you admit, knowing if you pause now, you will delay when you pick the pencil back. "I'll manage." 

"Making art shouldn't bring you pain, Arcadia." 

You scoff, just slightly. "Physical pain? Agreed. But emotional pain, that's another matter. Don't worry, I'll be done soon, Wolffe." 

He asked you to call him Wolffe a short time ago. It wasn't exactly necessary to call him Commander or Sir all the time if you had him sketched out on your page quite like… that. His legs parted and bent at the knee - flat in the grass out in front of him. Wrist of the left hand resting just on the surface of his thigh, with his hand hanging limp just inches from his groin. You were generous enough to draw his fingers in a more neutral position than how they had looked in reality… Otherwise, if his soldiers and brothers got a hold of the sketchbook, there's no telling how many jokes you'd have to hear about making it look like their Commander was jerkin' it in front of you. 

Calling him "Wolffe" would do just fine when it was just the two of you alone on this hill. Perhaps he felt it was only fair if he was calling you by your name. You had no title or rank, like him. You are just a humble part of the crew, but he assured you no less important than one of the soldiers. 

It takes all of us, he said. That's how we win this war. 

You've come to the home stretch, feeling the ache in your fingers deepen with every tiny skritch and shwoop! as you methodically color in your work leaf by leaf. "Just one last, little leaf," you promise, "and then I'm done." 

"Not going to sign your magnum opus, Arcadia?" Wolffe prods a little teasingly. He's smiling at you now, even. Hours ago, he was somber and battle-ready, no smiles, no nonsense. Now, he's beginning to make small jokes. "Should add a signature so future museums know who to accredit this to." 

"A leaf and then a signature." you chuckle warmly. "Future museum… Honestly." He only offers a shrug in response to that, and you take it to mean well, you never know. "What, you're trying to tell me you think this would honestly end up in a museum gallery one day?" 

He shrugs again, gazing off into the distance, into the forest. "Overheard one of the boys in the mess say something about the notion once. Something they read. Some kind of commemorative effort made by one planet to make sure they never forgot their bloody history by way of art and song and poetry inspired by that time. Evidence of a time best not repeated, but not forgotten either." 

Such an insightful and wise thing to be said so casually, poetically, and yet, there's a weighty truth to every syllable and enunciation. 

We doom ourselves to repeat the past when we do not remember it and do not teach it anymore. When we allow ourselves to forget, the shades of rouge we sop the bristles of our brushes in will not be in the rich scarlets of Dathomir, or the forever-burning rubies of Mustafar, it will instead be with blood. 

When we have enough evidence, it silences the naysayers and the fools. It validates the choking and trembling voices that say I have tasted the bitter blade of war. I have stood before the yawning maw of nothingness it leaves in its wake. I will never be the same. You do not have the right to tell me that I am some kind of paid actor. 

If they were conspiracies, do you not think I would be among the loudest of your prophets who tout these twisted claims in the hopes of converting another?

"Fascinating. Thinking something like that will come of the Clone Wars, Wolffe?" You've finished the drawing, now. Taking an ink pen, you jot down your signature in the tidiest handwriting you can manage in the lower right corner, making note of the date for good measure. You'll think up a creative title for this later. 

There's a third rising and falling of the shoulders from the man sitting beside you. "It's too soon to tell." 

"That's fair." you reply, gathering up your supplies to put them back into the bag for safekeeping. "But you just know, if it does happen, the Separatists aren't gonna like the art." You have faith that the Republic will prevail. How could it not when the soldiers who fight for the Republic are some of the most courageous, persevering people you know? (What will come of them after?) 

You're likely right about that, he agrees with a throaty chuckle. The Separatists will not like losing this war, and they'll like the art even less. "I can only hope… that it will not just be the Jedi who are…" Wolffe grows silent next to you. He's not certain what word he wants to use to best explain his thoughts, he admits plainly. There are too many. Too many answers that are right, but he struggles to find the one thing that is most correct out of all of them. 

Given what Tack has told you, the answer is obvious. "You're hoping that the galaxy will remember the Clones were a part of this conflict too. That the galaxy won't forget the sacrifices made by your brothers, and they won't forget how many lost their lives. You probably hope that when the free peoples of the galaxy remember the Jedi, they remember you, too. Both must be appreciated together."

"You're probably right," Wolffe concedes firstly, "And you're too wise beyond your years, Arcadia." Strangely philosophical, he tells you, for how old he guesses you to be. Maybe he's the right one this time, thinking to yourself on his words. 

Maybe he's not the only one hoping that when this war ends, no matter the outcome, those who served as a part of the Grand Army of the Republic will not be a forgotten topic ten, twenty… even forty or fifty years down the line. 

Tack has made a breakthrough in his mysterious flower just before Master Plo is free to come take a look at the sketch and color work you've completed, and concern for his men takes precedence. You would not blame him in the slightest if he forgot he expressed interest in seeing what you accomplished with art materials given to you as gifts. Because of your station with the crew of the Triumphant with a secondary speciality for risk assessment, you're involved in this discussion with the researcher and his commander and general. 

Right now determining the risks posed to the men of the 104th matters more. Art and philosophical pondering will have to come later.

Tack explains to both Commander Wolffe and Master Plo that he thinks the smatterings of blue flowers that dot this clearing here on Little Archossi are known as Dinocaeruleus anthos. By their common-name, you know that these flowers are a warning. A silent, unassuming danger for all their beauty and silky blue petals. 

Terrible blue flower. 

"You can make toxic honey with these flowers?" Wolffe asks more to himself than Tack, as he reads ahead in the compiled information. Plo is taking his time to read the information on the screen of the datapad in his hands. To make sense of this, the Jedi is being thorough. 

"Poisonous, Sir, more accurately." Tack makes the correction habitually, and Wolffe does not take it personally. He knows that Tack knows what he meant, and given his aptitude for analytics and other such sciences, his researcher is not correcting him to be a smartass. "But, yes, you can make bad honey with these flowers depending on what pollinators you harvest from. They are not wholly dangerous on their own. Eat it, it might make you feel nauseated due to natural bitterants. Touch it to more sensitive dermal surfaces and it will prove a powerful irritant." 

From a short distance away, you hear the voices of Orchid and Soapsuds, Tack's batchmates (you assume), commenting on what the four of you are discussing in the shade of the tree you spent the morning sketching. "So what Tack's saying is don't stick your d-" The speaker finds himself with the other's hand anxiously plastered against his mouth to shut him up in a hurry. "Maker alive, shut up!" Soapsuds warns him, "Orchid, why are you so vulgar?!" 

There is a pointed sigh from Commander Wolffe that is aimed at the two of them. Don't make me come over there. Behave yourselves in front of the General. 

Plo makes no indication that he's noticed the situation occurring just out of reach. You have to imagine he hears Suds and Orchid wrestling with each other in the grass, now, though, and is ignoring it. "Arcadia and Tack, in your opinion, will these be enough cause for concern to consider returning back to the ship?" Plo wonders aloud. The Kel Dor returns the device to the researcher, and folds his hands together in an act of deliberate contemplation, resting them against his stomach. 

Tack looks at you, and you at him, then the Commander. There is a look in his eyes, both the stark silver and the warm vandyke brown, that reads to you as a surrender of control. 

I will carry out your judgment. 

Tack scoffs and shrugs, his arms thrown wide. "Honestly, General? I don't know enough. I'd need more time to determine through more analysis and comparison. This is only one search result for one flower it could possibly be. But it was enough of a match to make me get the Commander while he was talking with Arcadia." Enough of a match to send him into a tizzy over it. Tack had tripped coming up the hill in his haste, trying to ask if - from where he was sitting - the Commander noticed anyone messing with the blue flowers. 

We have a potential problem! had Wolffe on his feet faster than engaging a hyperdrive. And then there was a flurry of questions. Was it contact from the planet's inhabitants? Has someone gotten hurt? Are they needed to assist another battalion? Where's the General? 

He has the look again, now. Worry. The inner anxiety is eating him alive. Tack doesn't know. So what about you? 

"I see…" Master Plo hums. "And what are your feelings, Arcadia? What do you think about the situation?" 

You think. What do you think about this situation? Is it worth double checking the matches for the flower, to make sure that it really is Dinocaeruleus anthos? Are the men really going to be so flippant as to disregard any kind of warning put out about these flowers if they are the Dinocaeruleus, or worse yet, a far more harmful flower? (Not necessarily, but you have to consider that warning the troops that this flower can have detrimental potential invites the opportunity to inflict it.) 

There is one thing that is already clear to you, at least. "Tack should first make sure these flowers are what he thinks they are before we make any kind of advisory, General. That is my opinion." 

Another thoughtful hum. "Interesting. And why is this your opinion, little one?" 

"We should avoid unnecessary panic. Until we know for sure what these flowers are, I say we don't say anything. We invite unnecessary risks by making the men paranoid." you suggest, glancing first at the Jedi, and then the flint-gray Commander to his left. They had every right to accept or disregard your counseling as the commanding forces of this battalion at the day's end; you hope they will consider it at the very least. 

"I'm in agreement."

"Then we will do as Arcadia advised, and we will let young Tack take more time to confirm his findings. Until then…" Plo trails off, nodding decidedly. Thank the Maker. Tack dismisses himself in a hushed, hurried tone. If he's going to spend more time pouring over information on the Dinocaeruleus anthos, he shouldn't dawdle. The Jedi kindly wills the benefits of the Force to guide the researcher before he turns to address you once again. "Have you made use of the gifts given to you since we last spoke?" 

Blinking with a mild start, you realize that Plo has changed the topic. "Oh, yes, I have. Let me go get my sketchbook from my bag, sir." You scoop the entire bag from the grass, re-tucking your datapad among your things as you extract the book and turn it to the necessary page for his convenience. "Here." 

Taking it carefully in his hands, the book is cradled like a priceless relic as his eyes must trace over the page. Once more your property is treated with such care and respect by the Force-wielder. "My… Arcadia, you have quite a gift." 

The action is perhaps more childish than professional, but you cannot help but duck your head at such praise, fearing to meet his gaze should he see how flushed your face is. It is not the heat of the sun above you, denoting that it is now high noon, that makes your face burn. You're never quite sure how to accept a compliment. 

You opt for humility. "Oh, it's hardly that great, General Plo… I wouldn't say I have a gift… just… a-an attention for detail." And that much is true; dedication to detail is why you spent hours on a simple "sketch" to begin with; why you took so much care and effort to get everything done the best you could. The form of Commander Wolffe's armor. The curve of his jaw and the roundness of the ala of his nose. The correct texture of his hair within the typical haircut many of the Clones have. 

But though gentle insistence, the General repeats his sentiment. "Attention for detail is no less of a gift, Arcadia. In war it is a mark of wisdom, in art, it is a skill." A skill that has made for a very fine portrait of the Commander. "Have you seen Arcadia's work yet, Commander Wolffe?" He offers the sketchpad with an invitation to have a closer look, though it isn't necessary. 

"I watched Arcadia add the colors, yes." Wolffe confirms. "Quite the process."

Not to mention a strain on your wrist, but one well worth it for the praise given to you from the Jedi, and now many of the men who have congregated to come and suss out what's going on. "I can only imagine… Even gone through the trouble of adding proper shadows to such… rich color." 

Sinker and Boost smile softly, not quite sadly (but certainly somber), when they take note of the color of paint their commanding officer wears when you allow the book to be passed around so everyone is welcome to have a closer look. They hold it longest out of everyone, looking at this artistic replication a little more closely than most.

"The ol' maroon, eh? Think it's meant to depict another time, before Abregado?" 

"But he's drawn with the scar, Boost."

"Ah, yeah, good eye. Missed that bit." 

You timidly clear your throat to draw their attention, and explain that of all the colors, you didn't have gray. "I didn't want to leave his armor naked, either." Not when you went through the trouble of adding the face of the wolf and the other design to each of his shoulder pads, or the unique shape of his visor when you drew the helmet next to his hip. 

You would not deal him further, small cruelties by stealing the colors out of his coat completely. These markings he has chosen for himself mean something to Wolffe. The color he wears now is a mark of mourning. The color in the pages of your book will serve as an homage. 

You have not forgotten your brothers. You will always carry them with you.

Hmmf. Are you a poet now too, Arcadia?

No sir. Not really. 

You're uncertain where the words came from. Borrowed from something you read once? Did you perhaps hear the General say these words once upon a time? You can't recall what inspired you to say such a thing. 

But you'll remember the change in his gruff exterior, the way in which he was quieter than quiet for just a moment, and he pivoted in the grass to better face you and make you his equal. 

It's only the two of us here on the hill, Arcadia. Call me Wolffe, please. 

Don't have a fic taglist for the time being, but I'll likely start one soon if I can figure out how to make those forms some people have since I write a variety of stuff. For now, though, if you'd like to join a taglist for specific types of fics (example: just TBB-centric or just TCW-centric (or both)) don't hesitate to ask. 🩷

[Masterlist]

[Early Morning] [Here] [Late Afternoon] [Evening] [Deep Night] [Golden Dawn part 1]

[Golden Dawn Part 2]

[linghxr]

My late summer 2023 cdrama updates (+ movies)

This is a follow-up to a previous post I published in February. I'm thinking of doing twice-yearly updates on what I'm watching! I'm also including a few movies this time.

I'm going to try to include content warnings, BUT my memory is not perfect, so please be aware that I may have forgotten details.

Shows I've watched: Some of these were mentioned as "currently watching" in my previous post.

《消失的孩子》 The Disappearing Child As the title suggests, this show is a mystery about a child who goes missing. It also incorporates other plotlines that gradually converge—that's all I'll say to avoid spoiling it. The payoff when the plotlines finally intersect was so satisfying! Overall I really enjoyed this show and highly recommend it. Be aware that it does have references to sexual assault and corpses (I don't think anything was directly shown).

《猎罪图鉴》 Under the Skin This show is about a sketch artist, a police detective, and an old murder case that connects them. I enjoyed the first half, which mostly chronicled stand-alone cases. But I found some cases hard to follow (disclaimer: my police vocab is limited, and I took several breaks while watching). Frankly I was a bit disappointed by the ending, so I don't think I'll watch the upcoming second season. Warning: contains some depictions of sexual assault and domestic violence.

《她和她的她》 Shards of Her To avoid spoiling anything, I'll just say that this show is about a woman who, after experiencing a traumatic accident, wakes up in an alternate version of her life. This show had me constantly doubting what was real and what was fake! I really couldn't get it out of my head. BUT I ultimately wouldn't recommend it due to what I found to be pretty disturbing sexual violence. I don't think there was anything too graphic, but I had to take significant breaks between episodes due to the upsetting content.

《镇魂》 Guardian I knew virtually nothing about this show (I thought it was steampunk tbh) but had heard good things. It's hard to summarize...basically it follows a police bureau that handles supernatural cases and, with some help from a mysterious, powerful envoy, saves the world. My favorite part was the first half, when they were mostly solving stand-alone cases. I got a bit fatigued during the second half. But it was perfect for when I wanted to unwind after work. Warning: the ending left me upset, and the special effects are hilariously bad.

《模仿犯》 Copycat Killer This is probably one of the most violent and death-heavy shows I've ever seen (and that's coming from someone who has seen Criminal Minds and part of Hannibal). It's about an unconventional prosecutor and a sadistic serial killer who uses the media to cause mass panic. Without spoiling it, I'll just say you need to be prepared for murder, torture, suicide, and other violent imagery. This show is not for the faint of heart—I could barely finish it, honestly. There are no happy endings for this kind of show.

Movies I've watched:

《想见你》（电影版） Someday or One Day (Movie) This long-anticipated film adaptation was a letdown for me personally. Instead of simply condensing the show, they made A LOT of changes. I'm not against changes, but the plot of the movie was way too confusing for me to follow. I'm not even going to try summarizing it here. If you haven't seen the show, I think you'll be completely lost. If you have seen the show, you'll be wishing you were rewatching the show instead.

《消失的她》 Lost in the Stars I'll admit, I only went to see this to see 朱一龙. The premise is very Hitchcock—a man is nearly driven over the edge after his wife vanishes and a woman he has never met appears, claiming to be his wife. There are lots of twists and turns, and I did not see the ending coming at all. Personally, I wish it had less action and more elements of a psychological thriller. It was a fun summer movie, but it wasn't anything groundbreaking. But that's OK!

《关于我和鬼变成家人的那件事》 Marry My Dead Body I barely knew anything about this film before I watched it. I only knew it had 许光汉, and I saw a lot of buzz online. It's about a homophobic police officer who enters into a ghost marriage with a (male) ghost. Frankly, I didn't like it that much. I did enjoy seeing the characters' growth, but the plot was very fast-paced, so I didn't have time to process anything that happened. Please note: there is rear nudity and some limited depictions of sex.

Currently watching:

《隐秘的角落》 The Bad Kids After hearing about how great this show is for years, I'm finally checking it out. I've only seen the first episode so far, but I'm really excited to see what's to come! It's about three children who accidentally film a murder. That's really all I know at this point.

《我们与恶的距离》 The World Between Us I haven't even finished the first episode of this show yet. I started it but decided to pause because I felt like I was juggling too many shows. I plan to revisit it after I finish some other shows. I know it's about the aftermath of a mass shooting, so I'm expecting it to be very grim.

《不良执念清除师》 Oh No! Here Comes Trouble I saw a lot of praise for this show online. It's a bit odd but in an endearing way. It follows a young man who discovers he inherited a mystical power after all sorts of strange beings start coming to him for help. So far the only thing I disliked was the gore.

《你的孩子不是你的孩子》 On Children This show is kind of like Black Mirror but with the theme of troubled parent-child relationships. Each episode is practically a movie, and I have only finished one so far. If you are not on good terms with your parents, it may bring up some painful memories.

Potentially abandoning:

《理智派生活》 The Rational Life I started this drama because I was curious about the premise—a professional woman's ups and downs in the workplace. There is also a slow romance (a 姐弟 romance since the male lead is much younger). However, after finishing episode 23 out of 35, the thought of watching 12 more episodes kinda fills me with dread.

《你安全吗？》 Are You Safe? This show is about "vigilante" hackers and the antics they get up to. It's supposed to raise awareness for cybersecurity. Honestly I don't think I have made any progress on this show since my last post...! I may just abandon it because there are a lot of other shows that have more successfully caught my interest.

I can't wait to share another update on what I'm watching/have watched in 6 months or so!

[iamnot-crazy]

Chapter 1 Chapter 3 (Sad Ending) Chapter 3 (Bittersweet Ending)

Summary: You have always itched for adventure and when an interesting vessel appears you take your chance and jump aboard. Now the Straw hat pirates present an offer you can't refuse but before you take them up on it you first need to speak to your grumpy captain.

Trafalgar Law x GN!reader

---

Law's initial assumption was that your boundless energy and lack of boundaries would be a constant annoyance, but since you have been aboard he learned how wrong his assumption was. Yes, you were a handful with your knack for finding trouble, and extricating you often became Law's personal headache. But he'd come to appreciate that side of you too. When you weren't excitedly soaking up new information or peppering the crew with questions for your ever-growing log, you were a surprisingly calm person.

For a good part of each day, you'd disappear, engrossed in recording the Heart Pirates' adventures. Your passion seeped through the pages of your beautifully illustrated log, showcasing your love and thoughtfulness for the crew.

It wasn't until he saw you gazing at the Straw Hat captain with the same unwavering determination you'd had when you first boarded the Polar Tang that Law realized what he'd taken for granted.

The Straw Hats each have their own fascinating stories and ambitious dreams and you listen in awe. You scribbled furiously in your smaller travel notebook, capturing their every word so you could later transfer it to your larger masterpiece. Your pen barely kept pace with the torrent of tales they poured out.

Law's frown deepened as your eyes glowed with a familiar spark. Sure he didn't want you on his crew at first but he'd grown attached to you, and so had the rest of the crew. From your cheerful good mornings, while whipping up breakfast to your one-on-one sessions with each crew member to write their stories, you have become an indispensable part of their lives.

But what Law appreciated most was your silent companionship. He'd often find you tucked away in a quiet corner, diligently writing and sketching while he read a medical book, the rhythmic sounds of the waves serving as a lullaby.

His heart tightened when the Straw Hat captain finally reached his boiling point. He bounded over to you, his declaration echoing across the decks, "Y/N! We go on crazy adventures every day and someday I'll be King of the Pirates! If you want to write about a legendary crew, you should join ours!"

Law's gaze darted between you and the captain, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his sword hilt.

Luffy grabbed your shoulders in a playful chokehold. "Every legend needs a chronicler! What do you say, Torao?! Can Y/N join my crew?!"

All eyes turned to Law, the air thick with anticipation. The smile that had bloomed on your face faltered. You'd been so caught up in the Straw Hats' infectious energy that you'd completely forgotten about your crew.

His jaw clenched, and his grip on his sword tightened further. "I don't control them,"

Luffy jumped up in excitement grabbing onto your shoulders and cheering for his new crew members. The others also joined in celebration making you feel welcomed and warm compared to Law's cold glare. You pulled yourself out of the straw hat's grip and bowed your head, guilt gnawing at you. "I'm so sorry, Straw Hat-ya, but… would you allow me some time to think about this?"

Luffy's infectious grin faltered slightly, but he nodded. "Yeah, but don't keep me waiting too long!" He quickly bounced back to his usual cheer, rejoining the festivities.

You felt a pang of longing as you turned away from the vibrant scene, seeking solace with your captain. Sitting awkwardly next to him, you struggled to find the words. Law finally sighed, the tension slowly draining from his shoulders. "You should join them," he muttered, surprising you.

Your head snapped up, eyes wide. "But what about the Heart Pirates?"

Law pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I already reached my goal. Doflamingo was defeated. I don't know what the world has in store for us next, but I do know whatever the Straw Hats' will be doing, it will be far more interesting. Your dream is to write about the new era, and I played my part. The Straw Hat captain… he isn't done."

You were frozen, your mind racing. "But Captain…"

Law stood up, cutting you off. "Just go join them." He turned away, his voice thick with emotion. He stormed away to the Polar Tang slamming the hatch shut behind him.

Just as Law disappeared in the tang a whistle pierced the air. Turning, you saw Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo approaching, their faces etched with concern.

"He seems mad," Shachi commented, plopping down on a nearby crate.

"You aren't really going to join the Straw Hats, are you?" Bepo asked, his voice trembling.

You shook your head placing it in your hand "I don't know."

Penguin shrugged. "Maybe you should join them. You're almost finished with your book on us, and the Straw Hats are going to need someone like you to tell their stories."

Bepo scowled. "But she's a part of our crew!"

Penguin sighed. "Look, Bepo, she has a dream too. Documenting the new era, the Straw Hats are definitely going to be leaders in that. It doesn't mean she doesn't care about us."

"But what about our Captain? Or do you not think he can become King of the Pirates?" Shachi interjected, glaring at Penguin.

Penguin flinched. "No, it's just… you saw them. Besides, Captain said it himself."

"But Y/N joined our crew first, doesn't that count for something?" Bepo whined.

"I just mean Y/N has served her purpose with our crew joining the straw hats would be the best for her." Penguin countered, his voice firm.

The conversation devolved into a heated debate, leaving you feeling even more overwhelmed. You excused yourself and retreated to your favorite porthole, the one offering the best view of the open sea. As you approached you found another figure leaning against your window staring off at the sea.

You smirked slowing your approach and dancing toward your grumpy captain "Anything interesting out there?" You sang leaning into his view.

Law jumped at your appearance but relaxed when he realized it was you and leaned his back onto the wall. "Nothing new." He sighed rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm sorry for being brash earlier."

You crossed your arms and smirked playfully, "You were?"

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "But I was being sincere earlier. I think you should join the Straw Hats. But…"

"But?" you urged, your heart pounding.

He looked away, his voice quieter. "But we'll miss you."

A warm smile spread across your face. "Awe, did I finally grow on you, grumpy Captain?"

He scoffed playfully turning to his side and looking back out the porthole, "You did a while ago." He admitted.

His comment took you off guard, "What is that supposed to mean?"

Law sighed, "You might have been a little much at first but I have grown to enjoy your presence and passion."

You tilted your head, studying him curiously. "Enjoy?" Your tone was laced with surprise, "The entire time I have been aboard you have been so pouty."

He scoffed, "I have not been pouty." You gave him a knowing look causing him to roll his eyes, "Fine I might have been a little pouty but that's just because I didn't know how to feel about you."

"Feel about me? Captain, do you like me?" You playfully teased.

Law's cheeks turned a faint pink. "Forget I said anything!" He pushed himself away from the wall and started to walk off.

"Wait!" you called out, reaching out to grab his arm. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to tease. Please."

He turned back, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes softened, and for a fleeting moment, you saw a vulnerability you hadn't noticed before.

"Y/N," he began, his voice low and husky. "When you first boarded the ship, you were full of this chaotic energy, but there was another side to you that I learned to appreciate. You care so much about the crew and documenting every adventure." He reached the wall again and sat down, "The first time I saw you here, drawing and writing your stories…"

"Our stories," You interrupted with a chuckle, joining him on the wall.

Law smiled faintly. "Yes, our stories. I didn't think you had it in you to be so focused. It was… nice to hear your pen scratching against your sketchbook as I read my medical books. I think that's when I started having conflicting feelings for you."

You felt a blush creep up your neck. You hadn't expected such a confession. "Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

Law shrugged, a hint of frustration in his voice. "It's not like I could act on it. I'm your captain and there was so much that needed to be done. And if you don't feel the same it would backfire more on me."

Hesitantly, you admitted, "I would be lying if I said I didn't feel the same way. I never imagined you could feel the same." You pause looking softly at him, "So what now?"

Law sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Now you join the Straw Hats and complete your dream. Then, hopefully, one day our paths will cross again."

The thought of leaving Law and the Heart Pirates ached, but you understood his reasoning. "But what if I don't want to join the Straw Hats?"

Law raised an eyebrow, surprised. "I saw how you were looking at them, how you blended in with them."

You bit your lip. "They're constantly getting into trouble, and I don't think I'm strong enough for that."

"They'll protect you," Law reassured you.

"Just like you have?" you asked.

"No." Law averted his gaze, a wry smile playing on his lips. "With me, it was different. I pulled you out of trouble. With them, it'll be different. They'll pull you into trouble, they'll challenge you, push you to your limits, but they'll also have your back."

"But I like things the way they are here. With you," you confessed, a pout forming on your lips.

Law grabbed your chin pulling you to look at him before he pulled you into a kiss. You were taken by surprise at first but his soft lip calmed your nerves as he deepened the kiss.

When he pulled away, his eyes held a mixture of sadness and determination. "Y/N," he said in a voice rough with emotion, "go chase your dream, and when you do, we'll meet again."

He stood up abruptly and disappeared down the hall, leaving you staring after him in a daze.

Taking a deep breath, you knew what you had to do. You grabbed your bag and made your way to the library. There, in the quiet solitude, you began writing the final chapter of your time with the Heart Pirates.

With a heavy heart but a burning determination, you finished the entry, pouring your love and gratitude for your experience onto the pages. Closing the book, you turned to the empty one – the one that would chronicle the adventures of the Straw Hat Pirates. You place the new empty book into your bag leaving the completed version of the Heart Pirates book on the table for everyone on the crew to read.

With your bag full and a new empty book, you walked out of the polar tang. Outside the party, the two ships have started to die down and many lay asleep on the ground. Your eyes darted across the dock for your captain but he was nowhere in sight, before you could turn around in search of him you felt a rubbery hand wrap around your waist.

"Y/N! I see your bags are packed! Did you make a decision?" A bubby captain pulled you off the deck of the Tang and onto the deck of the Sunny.

Your feet wobble as you try to brace your new bearings. You scratch your head, "Yeah I think I did but I was hoping I could say goodbye to Law first."

"No need." Robin appeared at your side, holding a folded piece of paper. "He stopped by earlier and left you a note."

You took the paper, your heart pounding. Written on the paper in handwriting that could only be written by a doctor said, "We'll meet again."

"Hey, we should probably get going soon if we want to make it to the next island by tomorrow!" Nami shouted from above you cutting off your thoughts.

"Alright then, let's set sail!" Luffy declared, his voice brimming with infectious energy.

And with that, the Sunny pulled away from the dock and the Heart Pirates, charting a course towards a new adventure. You stood at the railing, the wind whipping through your hair, your notebook clutched tightly in your hands. The future stretched before you, an open book waiting to be filled with the stories of the Straw Hat Pirates, and perhaps, someday, a reunion with a certain grumpy doctor. A smile bloomed on your face – the adventure had just begun.

---

Chapter 1 Chapter 3 (Sad Ending) Chapter 3 (Bittersweet Ending)

A/N: Wanna read more of my work check out my MasterList

[littlewestern]

What was your design process for Pilot? I really like the little detail of the silver leaves on his collar.

Sure thing! So Pilot's design is an ongoing, evolving thing (as all my designs inevitably are) but he's existed for over a year now and I've drawn him so many times since then it's a little hard to remember what the idea at the beginning was like, but I will do my best!

Before we get to the outfit, I do want to talk a bit about his basic character and how I worked it out because it's a little amusing. I remember thinking very strongly at first that I wanted to lean away from the sleek, silver, speedy streamliner personalities I'd seen elsewhere. Coming from ttte, the fast engines in that series tend to be haughty and overly proud of their speed as if that were the only measure of an engine's usefulness. I wanted to turn the wheel hard away from that type of characterization so I decided right away that I wanted Pilot to be humble, down-to-earth, and well-aware of his limitations. (This turned out to be a great instinct, as it fits extremely well with the engine's backstory, though I didn't know that at the time.) So right off the bat I knew I wanted something that communicated a certain level of approachability and... almost a guilelessness, I suppose. Someone who you could play for a fool, but why would you when he's so sweet?

I had also decided that Pioneer would be silvery and old-fashioned, so I wanted to go in the opposite direction for Pilot, dark hair and eyes to offset Pioneer's lighter appearance.

I had also just come off binging House MD.

I think this is a great example of why its important to become familiar with your own creative process and how your influences manifest in your work as an artist. This won't help you avoid the embarrassment, but at least you can get out ahead of the cringe accusations lol.

Anyway, once I had a firm template in mind for the type of character I was writing, then I could drill down on the specifics. I leaned into the Robert-Sean Leonard look hard and started pulling from other actors who had once been cast for their boyish good looks but were starting to age out of them.

(Left) More Robert-Sean Leonard and that breezy flyaway hair he's just a little too old to be rocking. I also definitely stole Pilot's furrowed eyebrows from him, but this was mostly because the way the E5 windows lean, they always look mildly worried!

I was also enchanted by Tom Hulce's (right) open but slightly world-weary and harrowed look, and I nicked those deep under-eye bags for my train too. Pilot's nose is based on the E5's impressive snoot, but also mine, which bows out in the middle and I think gives my face... personality! The silver streaks in his hair came from the idea that all Zephyrs, given enough time, will go completely grey. Pilot hasn't gotten there yet, and he'll probably be able to stave for a long while. Service life keeps you young, and Pioneer went grey prematurely.

Okay, with that out of the way: On to the outfit.

The E5s are a great class for their distinctive, themed names. Silver Pilot and Silver Mate are... Well, in retrospect, they're probably based on naval terminology (Why not 'Captain' & 'Mate'? I don't know). I didn't know that at the time, and honestly lacking his B unit, it doesn't super matter. He's an aviation Pilot now, although through the inevitable design drift and desire for quicker sketches, this often gets lost or forgotten, but that's on me. The idea of his uniform is still canon unless I change it, I'm just lazy and I like to draw him in casual outfits!

You can see the aviation influence right away. I didn't want to use a specific airline's uniform, so I kept most of the design elements vague. I opted not to go for the doubled-breasted coat, as it felt too formal and I had given Pioneer a double-breasted already, though he's since lost that as well (I gave it to the submarine instead lol). I also hadn't yet designed the Zephyr pin that would later show up on Pilot and Pioneer's uniforms in later drawings, so the double-wing pin was ad-libbed. It looks like this, and is based on the old Zephyrus Burlington logo.

The leaves on the collar are laurels, and are a nod to his train's Greek and Roman mythology naming, even though by the time of the E5s it had mostly been lost. Pioneer also has them, being the first of the Zephyr trains.

Also note their nose herald pins. I actually own this pin myself, because I didn't realize it existed as a real pin you could buy when I drew these. The three stripes below the tie are a visual nod to the E5's distinctive black nose stripes, red in the 60s but corrected to their original 40s black sometime in the 90s when Pilot started doing excursions off IRM property.

A few changes I've made since these drawings I made in 2022: In retrospect Pilot's sleeves should have four stripes, not three. Also, his cap is gone from most of my later drawings, but Pioneer also has a cap he just doesn't wear often. Hats are warm, easily lost, and generally not worn indoors. I envision the cap to be for special museum events.

All this old art is making me cringe. Here's a more recent sketch to show you how far we've come.

Thanks for the ask!

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

I can't get my emojis to work, but Joshua Whitmore and happiness?

That Familiar Smell of Fresh Paint - Joshua Whitmore/Reader

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader, no use of Y/N.

Wordcount: 2560

Summary: Happiness isn't a familiar feeling to him anymore, but it's the little things is his new life with you that makes him start to remember how it feels.

Notes: I love writing him so much that I'm already looking forward to all the new ideas that came to me as I was working on this QwQ

It was hard at first, but you both expected that after your big, dramatic return from New York. As soon as you'd boarded the plane the two of you knew that things wouldn't be the same now that he'd been found, and sure enough once word got out that you'd not only crashed his big party to steal him back but also returned to Detroit, one Ms. Jorie Chastain was back at your door to properly ask for an interview this time.

Turns out she'd been quite reprimanded by her superiors for her previous ‘interview,’ and you were more than happy to accept her apology money and then have Joshua slam the door in her face as thanks for tearing the painting that was now framed on your wall.

It'd been quite the sum to make up for nearly ruining both your lives, and you put it away to go towards that adorable little property you'd had your eye on since it'd gone on sale. You drove past it the next day with him to test the waters, see if he'd want to start over fresh with you there, just casually mentioning the for sale sign and how you should maybe check it out, get back to animosity since everyone now knew where you lived. He'd been silent, his foot propped on your dashboard and his sketchbook placed against his leg while he drew what he saw, and he'd barely paid the property any attention at all when he caught sight of an overgrown park crawling with nature and freedom.

You try again a couple weeks later when you make the drive to the art store with him to give his legs a rest; he was so used to walking everywhere he'd forgotten completely how to drive, and at first he'd gone on a very long rant about how cars were polluting the environment and how walking was better for the body and mind, although for once he tossed in a little compliment as he commended you for always walking to work even though you did own a vehicle. 

Now, many rides later, he’s relaxed and sitting in the passenger seat while feeling the breeze, completely fine with cars for the moment while you drive, and you point out the for sale sign again as you approach.

‘I see it still hasn't sold, it's a decent property, I wonder what's wrong with it?’ you joke with many glances thrown his way, and this time he did look as he hums to himself.

‘Based on the state of the yard, broken windows on the side of the house, as well as that concerning dent in the roof I'd say it's a wreck inside, owners are probably old and finally selling because they can't afford to keep it in the family anymore, that one won't be housing anyone until the whole thing needs to be gutted,’ he figures before taking his sketchbook back out to work on his park sketch, he only seemed to work on it when you drove together.

‘Oh, how'd you-?’

‘Been in a lot of places like it, I can usually tell from the outside what the inside will be like by now,’ he says without looking up, and for a moment you'd actually forgotten that he'd been on the road the past seven years, not homeless but traveling, of course he'd had to have learned about all the safe and empty places to stay, what would be a risk and what would be a temporary paradise. ‘You're quiet, you wanted that house, didn't you?’

‘What? No, of course not, I've already got a decent duplex, you're not gunna find a better bathroom for that cheap,’ you brush him off nervously, but he doesn’t buy it as he glances at you and keeps drawing. ‘By the way, I've been wanting to ask since I don't see you on my floor, but how's the job going?’

‘Working to survive but not to be happy, it's a hard question to ask, isn't it?’ he begins, and you give him a look until he chuckles. ‘It's fine, been a while since I've been around that many people, and I know the only things they know about me were found on the internet and in that woman's news segment, but I'd prefer it if I was a no one to them again, just so they'd stop staring when I come around.’ He doesn't draw as he speaks this time, his eyes staring out the window as the neighbourhood turned into downtown, the art store in sight.

‘We could always see if you could work from home, I hear that's been a big thing in the city?’ you suggest, but the thought of that makes him visibly recoil.

‘Working at a desk in the comfort of my own home? Taking the precious hours we have in a day to get up, sit in front of those machines and just work until I can't tell what's the job and what's my personal life anymore? That sounds worse than being forced to paint, don't ever say that to me again,’ he grumbles as he hunches up and places his shoes on your dash again. You chuckle softly at the sight, he always knew what he wanted and what he didn't like, and you certainly can't imagine him being able to work on anything other than his paintings while he was home.

‘Sorry, I should've known better,’ you tease, and he just continues grumbling all the way to the parking lot. The art store is more well stocked now that everyone knew he was here, the owner ordering all sorts of professional things since he knew that Joshua would be back in due time, and sure enough he always was to replenish his supplies. It was nice to not be limited to just the children's supplies now, he’s certainly very happy about it as he races for the paints and sees that they were higher quality than last time, and the new brushes he'd suggested have come in as well, the display announcing their newness to the lineup. 

He has his own money again, after the great loss to the show you'd ruined he'd ended up having to pay out of pocket for it all as compensation, but once that was settled and he was finally set free from his contract he was also free to claim the rest of what the bank had been holding for him for almost a decade now that he wasn't legally dead. 

His checking account had been pretty much cleaned, but he'd also had a secret savings account that had been highly suggested by his then girlfriend, since she did care about his future until he'd grown too numb to remember how to love her back anymore. As such, since Mr. Eldred didn't know about it and focused purely on what he had left in his checking, the interest had accumulated into a new mini fortune that he was now slowly blowing through as he spoiled himself with new paints and proper canvases and all the things a starving artist on the streets wouldn't be able to get.

It was funny how fast his views on money had changed when he was able to toss everything onto the counter and pay for it without putting you out.

Now that he has a paycheck again he mostly sticks to using that, the two of you recently having joined your accounts so you could help contribute to his savings. It was a very big step in your relationship, once you discussed many times as you helped him set up an online account so he could see where his paychecks were going without a trip to the bank, but it felt right after your big city rescue. Knowing that he can get whatever he wants, you again wait patiently as he checks out everything and repeatedly goes over his mental inventory of what he still had back home. 

You hang around the register so you won't bother him, he would likely be ignoring you anyway if he wasn't giving you a history lesson about everything he was looking at, so you prefer this option since it gets you home faster. You exchange a friendly nod with the owner, he was very familiar with the both of you now, and get comfy leaning against the counter until he’s done, his voice drifting over the aisles as he openly talks to himself since you weren't there to listen.

‘He sees like a nice guy,’ the owner observes as he also listens, and you smile fondly in his general direction when he sees something he doesn't like and starts talking a bit too loudly about how kids could never flourish with brushes that break that easily and were too cheap to actually hold the paint they were using.

‘He is,’ you reply honestly even as he approaches with an armful of said brushes and sets them down with the intention to have them be removed from the inventory, which of course they wouldn't be. ‘He's a bit insufferable at times, but… he's genuine, and honest, and passionate, and I've never met anyone like him.’ He returns with more as well as the things he actually wants to pay for before disappearing again. ‘I'm sorry about this, I'll put it all back when he goes to the canvases.’

‘It's no problem, it's pretty slow in here when the kids don't have any big art projects going on, gives me something to do,’ the man laughs, and Joshua is very pleased when he finally notices the extra large canvases that were now in stock even though you know it'll be a pain to fit them into the backseat. 

You continue your light conversation with him while Joshua finishes up, and in his excitement the final bill is a bit more than usual, but he’s happy to pay for it all as he hands over his card and punches in the pin. All three of you have to carry everything to your car once the transaction is complete, thankfully he only indulged in one giant canvas this time since he was running out of wall space in his studio, and the rest is tossed into the trunk with great excitement.

‘Thank you for getting these in, and you have my list of more appropriate supplies for the kids’ section, right?’ he asks as you get into the car, Joshua hovering around the door and refusing to let the owner go without his very important suggestions being taken into consideration.

‘I'll see how well the new stuff sells before I order more stock,’ he vows as he backs up towards the door, Joshua ready to walk back in and give him a quick lesson on why he should also really get rid of some other things so he could pay more attention to his rather lacking informational book selection when you lean across the seats, grab him by the back of the hoodie, and pull him in with you. He relents and shuts the door, now preferring to see how this stuff compares to what they provided in his month back in New York since they'd gone for price over preparation, which of course he could tell the difference between. 

You have to pass by the house again to get home, but you can only glance at it longingly this time at the thought of moving him into another rundown place; you don’t want that for him, he deserved someplace open and clean after waking up in empty houses for so long. He sees your look this time and bunches up again to draw, but this time it isn't to work on his park you discover as you pull into your driveway, it’s actually a rough blueprint of how to fix up what he saw on the outside.

‘Need to get in, see how bad it is or if I’m wrong,’ he mutters as he hands the book over after everything is brought in, and your heart pounds a little harder when you read his notes crammed beside the shapes.

‘It’s just a house, we can look together for something better,’ you tell him as you hand it back and head for your laptop, but he just shakes his head and rests his arms over your shoulders, his chin on the top of your head while you sit at the table.

‘Told you I’m good with my hands, did a lot of construction work, if we buy it fast then we could get it cleaned up before it gets worse,’ he says softly, and you realize that he was doing this because it was something you wanted for once, his final hurdle in him getting used to not only living with but also loving someone again.

‘I don’t want you to have to stay in another busted up old house,’ you reply without looking up, your hands still on the keyboard and touchpad as you hover over the real estate site you’d bookmarked weeks ago. ‘This place is fine, we don’t need anything bigger or better, it’s… you deserve better than more broken ceilings and cracked paint.’

He kisses your head then, he was still getting used to giving you affection when he felt like sharing it even though you’d already slept together and had been together for months, but just knowing that he was the one to kiss you this time is enough to make your heart soar. ‘You know I don’t mind the smell of fresh paint, that’s my entire life,’ he reminds you quietly, his lips moving against your hair and his chin digging into your scalp as he speaks, and you free yourself to turn in your chair and stare up at him.

‘So you really wanna do this? You wanna buy a house with me? I’ll have to start driving to work again,’ you gape up at him, and he doesn’t seem too happy about you driving so much, but his expression is still very soft as he leans down even more to rest his chin on your shoulder along with his arm.

‘It’s closer to the art store, we can start walking there together,’ is his reasoning, and you press your own kiss to his cheek before going to the house’s page and checking out the uploaded images together. It’s better than he expected, the damage is mostly on the outside, but he was right about the older owners wanting to sell their family home since they now had a slightly smaller place closer to their grandchildren and couldn’t afford to keep both. He points out the easy fixes, stuff he’d learned how to do years ago, and the second bedroom is the perfect size for an even bigger studio; both bedrooms lead out into the backyard, a proper backyard this time where there’s room for a garden, and a birdbath is already in place and sporting a bluebird in the photo on the screen.

You take it as a sign, you both do, and he decides to save his giant canvas for later as you call up the realtor and set up an appointment to tour the property, Joshua just watching you talk with a content smile on his face all the while.

[cinnamon-stheater]

KanaMafu - Kokoronashi

So I finally wrote my first fanfiction!✰ Sorry it took so long; inspiration took a while hehe! As you can see from the title this is a KanaMafu fic, and I'm not caught up on all the Nightcord events yet (from Kanade's Tea Time event and so on), so some events that had occurred in those events are completely ignored. Just pretend they didn't happen.

TW!!: angsty and severe themes (death basically). also really lazily proofread

Summary: Nightcord is doing their usual 3am activities when Kanade receives word from her father's hospital.

Word count: 1079

Click. Click.

"Hm... the bass shouldn't be so loud here," Kanade muttered to herself. "And this note doesn't fit in with the rest."

Click. Click.

"Kanade?" A girl's voice broke through Kanade's musing. "I've finished the sketch for the ending part. Could you take a look? I've sent it through the chat."

"Sure, Ena," Kanade nodded, switching tabs to the Nightcord chatting up, the one the group used to communicate. A new message popped up, and Ena's drawing gradually loaded onto the screen. Kanade clicked on it to enlarge it, quietly inspecting her friend's artwork.

"It looks great." Kanade smiled softly.

"Really? Thank you!" Kanade could hear Ena's beam through her headphones. "I'll get started on the lineart!"

"Wow, Ena," a louder voice spoke up, having seen the drawing as well. "This is amazing!"

"Hehe, thanks, Mizuki."

"Hey, Kanade, I'm almost done with the chorus as well!" Mizuki added excitedly. "Once Ena and I finish with the end, we'll be done!"

"That's great," Kanade said. "This song was finished quickly."

"Yeah! Good job, everyone!" Mizuki cheered.

It was such a happy mood for a gloomy day. The rain was pouring endlessly outside, pounding on the always-curtained windows in Kanade's room. She smiled. Even with all their hardships and troubles, being able to sit here and make music with her closest friends was a nice way to rest after the long day.

And the last person in their music group, the one that was living with Kanade right now.

"Mafuyu?" Kanade glanced up as said person walked up beside her. "Do you need something?"

"Your phone has been ringing," Mafuyu replied in her monotone voice, handing Kanade a vibrating phone. "For a while."

Kanade blinked, glancing at her desk. Usually she had it right next to her. Maybe she'd left it on the dining room table when she'd gone to get a drink of water - something she didn't usually do, so it made sense she had forgotten it.

"Oh - sorry, Mafuyu," Kanade said, taking the phone and standing up to leave the room. "I hope it didn't interrupt your work?"

Mafuyu shook her head. "No."

"That's good." Kanade made her way down the hall to the dining room and answered the frantically buzzing phone. "Hello?"

"Yoisaki-san! Thank goodness you answered!" A lady's voice cut through the speaker. "I've been trying to reach you for ages."

"Sorry," Kanade replied apologetically, a sheepish smile overtaking her features. "I was caught up in my work."

"At least you answered," the lady said. "I'm afraid I have terrible news." She paused.

"What is it?" Kanade's fingers tightened around the phone. Was it something about her father? She'd gone to visit him a few days ago and he'd talked about having a daughter named Kanade... the sweetest child ever, he'd said. Kanade bit her lip.

"Your father..." The lady's voice got significantly quieter, and Kanade's heart quickened its pace. "We are very sorry to say, but your father has passed away. We -"

Thud.

What?

Passed away?

No. No, that couldn't be. She had just seen him. He had been fine. Had been. Did his condition worsen that fast in that short amount of time?

Kanade gulped in air, trying to steady her swaying body. A tiny voice filtered out of her dropped phone, calling out, but she couldn't hear it. The world around her had gone silent, as if she'd been dropped into the ocean. All she could hear was her heartbeat, pounding madly in her ears.

Passed...

The lady's voice rang in her mind.

Away...

No..!

Kanade stumbled forward, her feet tripping over themselves. She broke into a run, not even caring to put her shoes on before she was out the door, her bare feet pounding painfully on the cement sidewalk. Her thin blue jacket was soaked instantly, and she trembled violently as she ran, both from the cold and desperation.

The hospital... where was the hospital? Even with the streetlights the dark was terribly suffocating. Her vision blurred, from the rain or the tears pricking at her eyes, she didn't know. She could feel her body tiring, slowing down, and her feet stung from the probable cuts that had appeared, but she had to keep going. She had to make it to the hospital and see her father. She had to make sure he was okay.

Your father has passed away.

Kanade's legs flew out from under her. Her frail body crumpled onto the ground, her hands scraping against the cement. She pushed herself up, but a knife-like pain pierced her stomach and she staggered. Right, she hadn't eaten since the day before yesterday. But she couldn't care about that now, not when her father had -

"Kanade!"

A figure approaching from behind came into her line of sight, their hand reaching out to rest on her arm. The sound of rain pattering onto an umbrella broke through Kanade's dazed senses, and she looked up at the figure.

"Ma...fuyu..?"

"Kanade," Mafuyu murmured. The same emotionless voice, expression - yet Kanade could hear the other girl's underlying worry and fear. "What -"

Kanade's shoulders quivered and her knees shook, threatening to bring her down. Like an earthquake had struck, she collapsed into Mafuyu's body, sobbing into her shoulder and clutching onto the other's sweater to keep herself from falling. It was like a dam had given way within her and all her pain came crashing through in a tidal wave of unbound misery. Every single thought, fleeting feeling, deep emotion was let loose in a rushing flood of tears and broken sobs. It hurt so much. Why did it hurt so much? And yet she deserved it, didn't she?

Her mind flashed back throughout the years: every time she went to visit her father, every time she would sit down to make music, there was a twinge of sadness, a pang of guilt. Because she was the reason he was in the hospital. She was the reason...

The rain spilled down from the stormy gray clouds, sliding down and off the sides of the umbrella. The wind howled through the air, screaming out its sorrow. The world itself had come to grieve.

It could have been moments, minutes, or even hours as Kanade wept despairingly into Mafuyu's shoulder, soaking her sweater with never-ending tears. All through that time, Mafuyu held Kanade close, a hand on her back, while she held her umbrella against the wind to shield them both from the anguished rain.

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

Thank you for reading!✰ I think most of my fanfics will be about this long, maybe a bit longer or shorter. It's named Kokoronashi because of the song's chorus (it's a KanaMafu cover). Kokoronashi as a whole actually doesn't fit this fanfic that much, but I think it fits Kanade and Mafuyu's relationship pretty well, so go listen to it if you haven't already!✰

I hope you enjoyed!✰

[flossy2003]

Storms- Oneshot

Just a warning- includes angst involving parental loss and sickness.

Wolf walked into the sitting room, and was surprised to see Scarlett, curled up on one of the sofas, sketching by the light of a candle.

“Scarlett? What are you doing in here?”

The girl jumped.

“Sorry! I’ll go back to bed!” She said, hurriedly sitting up and gathering up her drawing materials.

“No, no, don’t be sorry. I just wanted to know why you’re not in bed.”

“I couldn’t sleep, the storm was keeping me awake.”

“It was keeping me awake too.” Wolf replied, taking a seat next to his daughter.

“I hate them,” Scarlett spat.

She regrettably recalled one winter, when she had forgotten to bring Relica her morning tea, so the cruel woman had locked her in a leaky barn. She was only fourteen at the time.

She’d tried pleading with Relica, apologising, promising to do better, but her cries fell on unforgiving ears.

The barn held no animals, having been abandoned many years ago, so Scarlett had no one to talk to, no one to confide in.

Danielle would hear her sobbing when she went out to tend to the garden in the afternoons. She wasn’t allowed to speak to her, let alone comfort her, otherwise Relica would have her locked up too.

On the third night of her punishment, there had been a terrible storm. Part of the barn’s rotting roof had been torn off by the gusts of wind, leaving Scarlett exposed to the freezing cold temperatures and harsh rain.

She got was found in the morning, unresponsive.

Relica had reluctantly called a doctor out to check on her. She’d told him that she was her aunt, that she had adopted Scarlett and her “sister”, Danielle, after their parents died and that she’d found Scarlett wandering the gardens that morning, before she collapsed. Unfortunately, the doctor had bought the story.

Scarlett was diagnosed with influenza and was ordered complete bed rest (or rather, wooden-slab rest) and heavy doses of medication.

The doctor would sometimes be called out in the middle of the night, because Scarlett had woken up screaming from tummy pain or hot flushes.

While she did recover physically, she never recovered emotionally.

Wolf completely understood.

“Have I ever told you why I don’t like storms?” He asked.

“No?”

“It’s not a very happy story, but I think you need to know that you’re not alone, when it comes to trauma surrounding storms.”

Scarlett nodded.

“When I was a little boy, your aunt Stella and I lived with our parents in a cottage right in the middle of Harmony Glenn. One night, there was a great storm, one that nearly wiped Harmony Glenn off the map.”

Scarlett’s eyes widened.

“Your grandparents died and our home was destroyed…”

“Oh, dad! I’m sorry.”

Wolf put his arm around Scarlett and pulled her close.

“Your grandparents were amazing people, they stood up for what was right, always encouraged us to ask questions and loved everything life had to offer. I wish they could’ve met your mother and you kids…they would’ve loved you.”

Scarlett smiled.

“I wish that too. They sound wonderful.”

“You know, you’re very much like your grandmother and your great grandmother, come to that, they were creative too.”

“They were? Did they like to sew, like me?”

“Your great grandmother did, she would make a lot of mine and Stella’s clothes when we were babies. My mother preferred painting.”

“Ooo! Like Auntie Rapunzel?” Scarlett asked.

“Yes. In fact, Auntie Rapunzel and your mother were the first people outside of my family to see the little art workshop that we owned. They loved the paintings and Stella’s mosaic pieces.”

Scarlett smiled.

“So, what happened to you and Aunt Stella after the storm?”

Wolf took a bated breath before continuing.

“Many lost their homes and businesses. The orphanage was gone and those who still had their homes didn’t really care about orphans. They filled their homes and with families who still had the money to pay them.” Wolf explained, bitterly.

“Stella and I, like many other children in our position, were left on the streets, to fend for ourselves. The adults around us were always fighting and looting from one another…so much for “Harmony Glenn”, huh?”

Wolf’s dry chuckle made Scarlett frown. She knew that he was trying to make a quip to make the story a bit lighter for her sake, but it just made her feel more sorry for him.

“It was very scary. I still remember what it was like to scrounge for food and huddling under torn-up blankets to keep warm at night,” Wolf resumed, “that is why I hate storms. They took everything from Stella and I, and I’m always afraid that it’ll happen again.”

Oh. That explained a lot, Scarlett thought.

Her dad was very attentive to his family. He had special nicknames for them (“Princess” for her, “Beautiful” for her mum, “Warrior” for Edith and “Little buddy” for Harry), and he cried when he had to go away on business trips. All he wanted was to keep them as close as he could and give them all the love he didn’t have for so long. He was terrified of losing them or them losing him.

“I’m really sorry you went through all that, dad.”

Wolf kissed her head.

“I’m just thankful for what I have now.”

“Me too,” Scarlett mumbled.

“Me three.” Cassandra said, from the doorway.

Wolf and Scarlett looked up.

“How long have you been standing there, honey?” Wolf chuckled.

“Not long. I woke up to this hungry little guy,” she said, holding up Harry, “and noticed the bed was empty. I figured you’d be down here, on a night like this.”

“I can feed him, if you want?” Scarlett offered.

“That would be great,” Cassandra replied, passing Harry to her.

While Scarlett took Harry to the kitchen, Cassandra cuddled up next to Wolf.

“Cute’s not really my thing, but our kids are insanely cute,” she grinned.

“You know, you always say that cute isn’t your thing, but if it wasn’t, how come you’re so adorable?” Wolf teased, booping her on the nose.

“Ugh, you are the world’s most soppiest husband.”

“And you’re the world’s most beautiful wife.”

“I love you, Wolfie.”

“I love you too, Cassie.”

Wolf made a silent vow that nothing would ever come between him and his family again, especially not storms.