#is he a little ooc? idk

[bluebeary-jay]

If I could hold you for a minute

Javier Peña x f!Reader

Summary: Javier wants nothing more than to go home to you. And thanks to his partner's generosity, he gets to.

Tags: just pure FLUFF, mayyybe a sprinkle of suggestive humor, established relationship, Steve teases Javi a bunch, Javier is a BIG SIMP (i'm serious)

Warnings: none ♡

Word count: 3.3K

A/N: something different for you guys 🙈 i'm sadly still on semi-hiatus because of my finals, but I managed to finish this little fic as a break from my angsty Joel pieces. i reaaaally hope you all will like it 😌💕 also, it's dedicated to my dumbass in crime @lily-inbloom 🫡😘 luv you babes

This was one of the worst days agent Peña had in a long time, and he wanted nothing more than to go home.

First, two people from Escobar’s inner circle managed to escape the raid on the laboratory in which he and Murphy participated, leaving both of them exhausted and frustrated. Then Melissa gave Javier a bunch of shit because of some documents, and on the way to his desk some asshole bumped into him, making him drop and break his phone. And now they had to stay after hours to wait for Carrillo.

“It’s for you, Peña.”

So yeah. His day was shit so far.

His pity party was cut short when Steve sitting across from him hissed his name again. Javier shot him an irritated look and flipped him off, not in the mood to talk to any informants or their superiors.

“Not now, Murphy,” he grumbled, but his partner still handed him the stationary telephone from their desk, ignoring the hostility radiating from the man.

“Just take it, asshole. She’s worried you’re not answering her calls.”

At that, Javi sat up straight and in a split second took the handset from Steve, pressing it to his ear.

“¿Querida?” he asked quietly, paying no attention to Murphy rolling his eyes and chuckling to himself. There was a sigh of relief on the other end of the line and he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. “Is everything alright?”

“Hi, Javi,” your voice came through the receiver. “You weren’t picking up.”

Almost instantly the tension was lifted from Javier’s shoulders and he exhaled deeply. You had a talent of putting him at ease, even when you weren’t by his side.

“Lo siento, cariño. Some idiot broke my… you know what, it doesn’t matter. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just wanted to ask when you finish work? I can swing by and we can go grab some food on the way home.”

He sighed tiredly, rubbing his brows. He hated saying no to you and if he could, Javi would give you the world on a silver platter – but some things, he didn’t have any control over.

“No sé, cariño. We have a shitton of papers to read with Steve, and we’re waiting for Carrillo to fill us in on the latest action. I’ve got no idea how long it’s gonna take, sweetheart.”

Steve lifted his head and shot Javier a teasing look, but Peña ignored him, turning his chair to the side.

“Alright, so what do you say I’ll bring you some takeout? You can also ask Steve what he’d want, I’ll be at this place we went to a week ago–”

“No, querida, no,” he sighed, this time with affection. Your voice was a temptation enough to throw everything to hell and run home to you, but to hear the kindness and love in your words, without even seeing your expression… It was heart-clenching. “We don’t need anything, you just go back home safely. I’ll try to get away from here as soon as I can.”

You didn’t answer at first, but then hummed half-heartedly.

“If you say so. But please, eat something.”

Javi smiled absentmindedly, covering his eyes with his fingers. He imagined your concerned expression, the receiver nestled next to your ear, near the spot he so liked to nuzzle with his nose. “How do you know I haven’t already?”

He could hear a trace of a smirk in your voice.

“I know you, Peña.”

“Too well, I think.”

“You love it, though.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, maybe.” He heard you yawn and the smile disappeared from his face. “You’re tired.”

“No, I’m not. I’ll get to bed when you’re back.”

“I won’t be home for at least a couple more hours, sweetheart,” Javi told you softly. “You can go to sleep.”

“I’ll wait for you,” you repeated stubbornly.

“You don’t have to.”

“I know, cariño.” There was that sweet, teasing note in your tone, and a grin spread across Javier’s face again. “But that will just give you more reasons to come home quickly.”

“I’ll try,” he just offered in a whisper, resting his forehead on his fist. “Call Steve if anything happens, alright?”

“Okay, okay, I will.” Long since gone were the times you’d argue with him about that. You knew how terrified he was at the thought of losing you. “I love you, baby.”

“También te amo.”

He didn’t immediately hang up, waiting just in case you wanted to add something else. The line went dead, however, and with his lips pressed Javi put the phone back in the center of the desk.

“You have it bad, Peña.”

Of course. Javier should’ve known Steve will start to nag at him again.

He reached into his pocket for a cigarette and put it between his lips. He knew you’d complain about the smell on his hair and clothes when he got home, but he was already too stressed out and in a desperate need of a smoke.

“I’m not in the mood, Murphy,” he muttered, pulling out the lighter.

“I thought a conversation with your sweetheart would brighten up your day?”

Javier looked up and just as he suspected, Steve had that same stupid grin on his face, like every time the topic was brought up.

Ever since your and Javi’s relationship became more serious, Steve was taking every opportunity to tease his partner. If Javi was feeling generous, he could kind of understand where his friend is coming from – after all, he himself didn’t think he’d ever act like a dumb teenage boy in the presence of a woman. But something about you mesmerized him from the very beginning, and, miraculously, here you both were, in a steady and loving relationship Javier Peña was always afraid of hoping for.

But alas, it was not a day to be understanding. He glared at Steve when the fellow agent didn’t take a hint.

“Shut up.”

“I wouldn’t say no to a food delivery, you know,” Steve spoke up with a smirk under his mustache. “I’m quite hungry.”

“I’ll sooner hire Escobar to make you sandwiches than let her do it.”

“You wound me, Javi. And to think I was about to take care of Carrillo and let you go home early.”

Javier looked up in surprise at his friend’s knowing smile. Then he blinked, slowly and tiredly, wondering if he didn’t misheard.

“Really?” he asked suspiciously, to which Steve shrugged.

“Why not? I’m in no rush since Connie and Olivia are in Miami, and as funny as it is to watch you yearn and pine, your brooding gets annoying after a while.” Javi didn’t move from his place, so Steve nodded in the direction of the exit. “Just go home to her, Peña. Before I change my mind.”

The face of the agent broke into a smile before he could collect himself. He stood up so quickly that he bumped his hip against the desk, but it didn’t phase him one bit. With a quick shove across the desktop, he swept all the documents to the folder and took his gun from the drawer, tucking it into his jeans.

Murphy was watching him with a smirk.

“You owe me, Javi.”

“Sure,” his partner replied over his shoulder, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll get you a sandwich tomorrow.”

A quiet laugh followed him when Peña promptly ran out of their office.

*****

After the call with Javi you tried to find yourself an occupation, intending to stay up as long as you could. He was working like crazy lately, sometimes not even coming home for the night, so a chance to finally spend some time with him – even if it would only be for half an hour – was something you didn’t want to miss.

So you wandered around his apartment. You read a little, watched TV, tidied up the cutlery drawer, folded Javi’s shirts, and now you got onto washing the dishes left from your dinner two days ago.

You were humming quietly, that stupid song which seemed to play on every radio as of late, when you heard a small sound from the hall. You paused and turned off the tap, your heart pounding in your chest, and sure enough there was it again – but this time you clearly recognized it as a key turning in the lock.

Before you could think of what to do, the door opened and Javi came in, locking eyes with you immediately. You blinked slowly, rooted to the spot with your hands lifted, still covered in water and soapsuds.

“Javi?” you asked in surprise. “What are you doin–”

Without saying a word, Javier came up to you in two long strides and put his hands around your waist, dipping you back and kissing you deeply. You made a noise in your throat, moving your wet hands aside, but then sighed contentedly as his lips caressed yours.

“I missed you, cariño. So much,” Javier murmured, not moving further away from your lips than two millimeters apart. “Couldn’t wait to get home to you.”

“But what about– Steve, and…” you tried to ask during those brief moments when he gave you a second to take a breath, but was unable (and unwilling) to move away when he was holding you so tightly.

“They’ll be fine,” Javier murmured, moving his hands to your cheeks to cradle them tenderly. “Steve said he’ll handle it.”

He firmly pressed his lips to yours one more time, his eyebrows scrunched with affection. You didn’t ask anything else, instead wrapping your arms around his neck, still careful not to get his clothes wet. After almost a minute of tender kisses and whispered Spanish phrases, Javi rested his forehead against yours with a content sigh. His eyes were closed and he just hummed when you nudged his nose with yours.

“You weren’t supposed to be home for the next few hours,” you said quietly.

“It was a damn torture. I couldn’t wait, hermosa,” he murmured and exhaled heavily. “God, I needed this.”

A bright smile spread across your face at the thought of this man thinking about and longing to see you so much. He sounded so stressed out and tired over the phone, but now it was like all nerves left him for just a moment.

“Do you want me to make you something to eat?” you asked in a whisper, but Javi shook his head.

“No. Just stay here.”

“I have to rinse the dishwashing liquid off my hands, though. And you need to take a shower.”

“Are you saying I smell?”

“A little. But I mostly mean the cigarette smoke on your hair.”

Javi sighed, murmuring something under his breath. You gave him a peck on the lips. “Go on, cariño. I’ll get everything ready and then we can lay down.”

Javier grumbled, displeased, but didn’t argue any further. “You’ll have to make it up to me, sweetheart.”

“If you manage to keep your eyes open.” Your comment made him crack a smile and you mirrored it. “Go shower. And then come back to me.”

Javi sighed but obediently went towards the bathroom, putting down his aviators and the gun on the table on the way there. You watched him fondly, your heart still swelling with love at how relieved he looked to see you. He must’ve felt your attention on him, somehow, because he turned around in the doorway and sent you a smirk.

“If you like the view so much, you can hop into the shower with me,” he teased, and you hummed, pretending to consider it.

“I would, but then it wouldn’t be a ‘quick shower’.” He smiled knowingly, and you scrunched your nose at him. “Javi, the longer you stand here, the less time we’ll have for cuddles.”

“You raise a good point, hermosa.”

With one last look he disappeared in the bathroom and you shook your head at his antics. A few seconds later you heard the sound of rushing water, so you hurried to your shared bedroom to get everything ready.

You pulled down the blinds and flipped the pillows to the colder side, and then swiftly changed into one of Javier’s shirts you liked to sleep in. You also took his gun from the table, knowing he preferred to have it within reach when he was resting with you.

Earlier that day you started to clean the cupboards, so the room was pretty messy. You spent a couple of minutes putting the piles of clothes and various knick knacks in their places, trying to be as quick as possible. Then you heard the water in the bathroom stopping, and it only took Javi two more minutes before he emerged from the bathroom in nothing but his boxers.

His hair was wet and chest bare, and exhaustion was marking his handsome features, painting shadows over his face. Without a second of hesitation Javi went up to you and wrapped his arms around your middle. You wanted to say that you’ll be done in a moment, but didn’t get a chance – he hid his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling tiredly, and started dragging you backwards to the bed. You swat at him with laughter, but those strong arms of his just held onto you tighter.

“Cariño, I still have to finish–”

“Leave it. You don’t have to do anything.”

“Javi…”

“Come lay with me, mi sol.” He softly pressed his lips to the sensitive skin on your neck, making you shiver. You felt him smirking. “Come on. Please.”

You faltered at this word, so rarely used by him. He sighed into your shoulder and swayed you two gently from side to side.

Javi was right. Everything else could wait.

You lifted his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles gently, feeling him relax behind your back.

“Alright,” you murmured. “Come here, baby.”

He hummed and kissed your neck again, then your shoulder, sneaking his hands under your – technically his – shirt.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you look in my clothes?” he asked quietly.

“Every time I wear it.” You felt him take a breath, but you beat him to it. “And don’t say they’d look even better on the floor.”

Javi chuckled and hugged you tighter, still slowly moving backwards with you. “Not this time. Just wanna have you in my arms.”

“You mean in your bed?” You couldn’t help but tease him, and yelped when he bit your neck lightly.

“Don’t tempt me.”

When you two reached the bed, Javi stopped and slowly turned you around before sitting down. You took his face in your hands, staring down at him lovingly, while he gently ran his palms up and down your thighs. He did look tired, with the exhaustion and sadness swimming in his beautiful dark eyes. After a moment he exhaled shakily and leaned forward, resting his forehead on your stomach.

“Wanna lie down?” you whispered softly, and he nodded without a word. “Okay. Come here.”

You gently released yourself from his hold and laid down, immediately reaching for Javier and tugging him to lay on top of you.

The moment his head touched your chest, Javi exhaled heavily with relief, closing his eyes. You ran your fingers through his hair, brushing the wet strands aside.

“Do you need anything?” you asked quietly, but he just muttered 'no' with a light shake of his head.

“I’ve got everything I need right here, querida.”

You grinned warmly, though he couldn’t see it. “You’re quite a romantic, Javier Peña.”

He chuckled under his breath, lifting himself slightly to meet your adoring gaze. “I thought you already knew all about it.”

“Did I?” you asked playfully, to which he lifted his head.

“What more can I tell you?” he murmured, leaning over you and smirking when your breath hitched in your throat. His brown irises danced across your face, drinking your features in. “Do you wanna hear how all I think about while working are your lips and the sound of your laugh? How the time spent together isn’t nearly enough for me to fully revel in you? Or…”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you said sheepishly, making Javi grin victoriously. “You’re probably spending that time in the office not thinking about me but of ways to mess with me.”

“Tal vez, mi sol.” He pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth and moved lower, whispering into your skin. “But I do wish I could spend more time with you.”

“I know, cariño.” You brushed his hair to the back with your fingers, scratching his occiput. “But it’s not your fault.”

He hummed without conviction, still busy kissing every inch of your skin he could reach. One of his hands went to your waist, his thumb tracing small circles there, while the other climbed up to your hand, entwining your fingers together.

“Didn’t you want to get some rest?” you asked breathlessly, trying to keep your composure. Your face was hot, and Javi hummed smugly at the pitch of your voice. He lifted his head and brushed your cheek with his knuckles, his hand still holding yours.

“I wanted to spend time con mi hermoso sol.” He touched his forehead to yours lovingly, gazing deeply into your eyes. “I was serious when I said you’re all I need.”

“I think you need some sleep, too.”

Javi grumbled, seemingly giving in, and kissed you sleepily one last time. His eyes were already closing and his mustache scratched your skin lightly.

“No, querida. Just you.”

*****

The next morning, Steve came to work to the sight of Javier trapping you with his arms against his desk. He was leaving soft pecks on your lips every once in a while – so unlike the Peña Murphy had known before – murmuring something to you with a smile, causing you to giggle, too. You tried to slip out of his grasp, but Javier just pulled you closer. The pair was obviously lost in the moment because neither of them noticed Steve, until he threw a pile of files onto his desk.

“Morning, guys,” he said nonchalantly, eyeing your bashful beam and Javi’s crooked smile with a smirk. He noted that his partner looked way better than yesterday. “D’you get any sleep?”

“Actually, I did.” Javier gazed over at you and squeezed your hand with this look of a lovesick puppy that Steve mocked so often. “Don’t remember the last time I’ve slept so well.”

“Happy to hear it, because we have a lot to do today.” He sat down and began organizing the notes from Carrillo’s report yesterday, wanting to fill his partner in as soon as possible. He heard Peña sigh.

“Of course.” He glanced up to see the other man stand up and kiss you lovingly – once, twice – before you lightly shoved him back onto the armchair. Steve rolled his eyes when Javi brought your hand to his lips, leaving one last lingering kiss, and then finally letting go of you.

“I’m gonna be late because of you,” you accused him, but he only smirked.

“Lo siento, cariño. Have a good day.”

You said your goodbyes to Steve and turned back to the exit. Murphy shook his head and met his partner’s dark eyes, sparkling with adoration.

“You really have it bad, Peña.”

He didn’t receive any answer, so he just smiled to himself and got back to arranging his desk.

He didn’t get a second of peace, however, because suddenly a paper bag was dropped on the documents he was just filing. Two – a bit squashed – sandwiches were peeking out from the brown paper.

Steve lifted his head, ready to throw another teasing comment, but Javier’s eyes – still full of that raw love – were focused solely on your figure leaving their office.

*****

querida - dear/darling

lo siento, cariño - I’m sorry, darling/honey

no sé - I don’t know

también te amo - I love you, too

hermosa - beautiful

mi sol - my sun/sunshine

tal vez - maybe

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]

This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.

She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.

But it'd been almost a week since then.

The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

That counted for something.

Not much, but something!

..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.

There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.

She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.

So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.

Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.

Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.

Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.

She really didn't like it.

There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.

She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.

She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.

That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.

Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.

But he wasn't.

He was out running her nation, instead.

And what was she doing? Nothing!

She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.

Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.

Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.

..She wasn't ready.

What was she supposed to say?

Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?

She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.

For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.

Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.

Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.

It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

"Focalors?"

The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.

She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.

"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"

The silence is deafening.

She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!

"Lady Furina?"

Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.

"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.

Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.

Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.

"Why aren't you killing me?"

The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.

She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.

"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."

The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.

He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.

..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?

How unfair.

"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"

She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.

..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.

She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.

For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.

Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.

For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.

Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.

She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.

She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.

She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.

"Again."

[soul-eclectic]

its 3 am and this is what im drawing rn

[saetoshi]

you’ve lost track of the times it’s rained during the past few weeks. the amount of trials held by the chief justice have gone up, just like the chances of rain.

it was upsetting the first time it happened—your notepad getting soaked right after you’d finished getting information for your steambird column. the second time was more annoying, drawing your personal tea party to a close and leaving you drenched (and with a few soggy biscuits).

it’s a force of habit now—the familiar weight of your umbrella having become soothing rather than a burden. it almost feels like muscle memory, having to open your umbrella to shield yourself from the downpour as soon as the skies turn gray.

the rain does nothing but put a damper on people’s mood. or, at least, that’s what your neighbor tells you. you don’t dislike it, though. you don’t think you can bring yourself to do so.

there’s a certain stillness that comes with the rain. it’s calming, almost—most people who’ve forgotten their umbrellas at home seek refuge under the overhangs of the buildings, so it’s easier to navigate the streets of fontaine when they’re not so crowded.

it’s nice, almost. it’d be better if you didn’t have to work. (you’d give anything to stay curled up in bed during days like these. but you don’t think you can give yourself that luxury. at least, not when you’ve got bills to pay).

the way to the opera epiclese is nice. the aquabus is emptier when it rains. and, somehow, the landscape seems prettier with the faint mist the rain leaves behind.

it’s a little bit more crowded near the fountain of lucine. a few children run around while holding their umbrellas, jumping on some puddles before running back to their parents.

you’ve grown familiar to seeing the sight. sometimes you think this might be the reason you don’t resent the rain like most of your neighbors do.

or maybe, it’s just the sight of neuvillette standing just a few steps away from the stairs to the opera epiclese, his hand outstretched as he lets the raindrops fall onto his glove.

“you’re going to catch a cold if you keep standing under the rain like that, neuvillette,” you say, lifting your arm a little to cover him with your umbrella. it’ll do nothing, really—not when he’s already soaked to the bone.

he turns his attention to you, the corners of his eyes softening when they meet yours. he gently takes the handle of your umbrella from your hand, mindful to keep you covered from the rain more than him.

“i suppose that would be the case, yes,” he replies, his eyes focused on yours. he turns his attention to the fountain, his jaw tensing for a moment before it relaxes.

you still notice the faint crease to his brows, the slight downturn of his lips. it’s almost imperceptible—but it’s still there.

you’re not sure what to call your relationship to him. you’re not quite friends, but you’re far past acquaintances. you’re close enough to have dropped the honorifics, but not close enough to consider yourself important to him. close enough to recognize the subtle shifts to his expressions, but not close enough to pry about them.

perhaps just naming it reporter and chief justice would be better. reporter who got lucky enough to get the chief justice to open up about the court trials and proceedings, maybe. (part of you would like to ascend to reporter who gets to ask the chief justice out for a cup of tea when the rain stops).

“how was the trial today?” you ask, reaching into your pouch to pull out your notepad and a pen. part of you wishes you could feel bad for missing it, but you’ve never been one for the spectacle of the courtroom. it’s inhumane, you’d argue—how people’s grievances and crimes are exposed for the whole nation to see as if it was nothing more than a play.

neuvillette adjusts his grip on the umbrella, his eyes focused on you. “difficult,” he says, his tone measured. he blinks, and for a moment you think you hear the rain fall a little harder before it turns into a drizzle. “the evidence procured by the attorneys was not as sufficient as they had originally thought.”

the light, hurried scratching of the pen against the paper fills the air, barely audible with the sounds of the raindrops pelting down on your umbrella. you glance away from your notes to look up at him. “that sounds messy,” you muse, pursing your lips.

“quite so,” he solemnly nods, his grip tightening around the handle to keep your umbrella from swaying with the wind. his lips press into a fine line, “it ended up being far more complicated than i had thought it would be.”

you nod, acknowledging his words as you write them down on your notepad. he inches infinitesimally closer to you—enough for you to notice when a droplet falls from his hair onto the ground, but still far away enough for you to not consider burdensome.

it almost makes you smile, how mindful he is. always a gentleman, you think. it fits him—not as chief justice, but as neuvillette. part of you wishes you could write that in a column, if only for the rest of fontaine to be privy of the surprising gentleness the chief justice possesses. but you don’t think you will. (it’s a piece of information you wish to selfishly keep for yourself).

he angles the umbrella, his eyes focused on the top of your head as you organize your notes. the sun faintly peeks through the clouds, letting the soft orange hues of the sunset shine through the drizzle. his eyes study your face while you’re unaware, the corners softening the longer he stares at you.

“what did lady furina think of the trial?” you ask, your eyes drifting from your notes to his face. the troubled expression he was sporting when you first saw him is gone, replaced by some sort of warmth you can’t describe.

“she found it less entertaining than the previous ones,” he says, his tone losing that firm edge to it. he adjusts his grip on the umbrella’s handle again, making sure to cover you properly even if the rain is starting to let up.

“what about the attorneys?” you continue, tapping the tip of your pen against the paper. “what was their reaction when they realized they weren’t properly prepared to defend their client?”

“i will get you the court records for the full description,” he says, his eyes flitting to the people around the fountain of lucine. his grip on the handle eases when he sees the others start to put their umbrellas away. still, he makes no move to do the same with yours—not until the light rain stops completely.

his eyes flicker back to yours, the corners of his lips quirking up into the hint of a smile, “but, it seemed like steam was coming out of their heads.” he pauses for a second, a faint pink dusting the tips of his ears. “those were lady furina’s words.”

they’re not. you’ve interviewed him for long enough to tell when he adds an observation of his own. (still, you’ve never pointed it out to him. it’d be a shame if he stopped giving them out if he knew you were aware of this habit).

you softly hum, smiling in amusement, the corners of your eyes crinkling, “you want me to include that on the column?”

“preferably not,” he clears his throat, returning to his stoic façade. still, he can’t help the way the corners of his lips quirk up again slightly. “let that be our secret.”

“alright,” you whisper, the amusement in your smile giving way to a slight fondness. “it’ll remain between the two of us.”

“i’d hate for our dear lady furina to be branded as a gossip,” you add, your eyes drifting to the sky. a soft hum leaves your lips, your hand peeking out from under the umbrella. a hint of a smile tugs at your lips when you realize it’s no longer raining.

“it would be most unfortunate,” he says, his tone soft as he watches you. he lowers the umbrella, giving two firm shakes—the way he’s seen you do it before—before closing it.

“i will get you the finalized court records by sunset tomorrow,” he says, holding the umbrella out to you. “would that work for you?”

you nod, placing your notepad and pen inside your pouch. your fingers brush against his gloved ones as you grab your umbrella, a small jolt of electricity shooting through your hand. “that’d be great.”

neuvillette’s eyes soften once again, a soft hum rumbling in his throat. “i will give them to you over dinner, then.”

you blink, the tips of your ears burning at the implication of his words. your heart races in your chest, your eyes meeting his. “dinner?”

“if that works for you, as well,” he says, softly clearing his throat. your heart skips a beat when you take notice of the faint flush to his cheeks.

you can’t help the smile that grows on your lips, a pleasant warmth filling your chest the longer you gaze at him. (he looks unfairly pretty with the sunset framing his face, you think).

“it works perfectly well for me,” you say, your voice hushed. your smile widens when you recognize the relief on his face, your heart fluttering in your chest.

perhaps, your relationship of reporter and chief justice is not such a bad label. (at least not when it means you’re the reporter who’s going to get dinner with the chief justice).

[nuks]

a d.rug de.aler oc who gives u ur stuff in cute little bags like this with lil stickers LMAO

[mintypsii]

i wonder how zeff would've reacted to sanji's bounty poster changing to "only alive" and then later to sanji "vinsmoke" (well known former conquerors/royalty of the north blue)

whether sanji's told zeff about germa or not, zeff would be stressed OUT

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

Creator: Mm, art block. What to do...?

Creator: What do you think, wackus bonkus?

"Wackus Bonkus" (Hand): make angst

Creator: ohh, you naughty wackus bonkus

[nervocat]

Leona Headcanons (that is basically me projecting onto him with some things from my cat as well)

Leona has a gummy smile

He has a very expressive tail. It rests when he rests, but when he's focused on smth it'll swish from side to side and depending on the topic, it'd also thump on a bed for example

He bites his lips a lot. He picks at them more in private, but biting is smth he does whenever and since he's got chapped lips so he always gets something off

If he considers you close to him, some part of him has to be touching you. Like his tail, or he'd sit close to you to touch shoulders in a more private setting

Leona likes bird watching. It's a time where his tail could theoretically thump on a wall he's leaning on if he is, but watching them helps take his mind off things. He's watched them enough to at least know the bird species if you ask

He fidgets with his clothes sometimes

He isn't aware of it, but he seeks approval from others. It's rlly only with the ppl he's close with like Ruggie that he does, but considering how he grew up, it's a possibility

He has a bit of a rough tongue, being a lion and whatnot

(I'll reblog this post when I add more to this bc ik I will)

★ — © nervocat || I appreciate any reblogs made, and pls don't repost or translate my works anywhere, ty — ✦

[cervicorvus]

Some Homestuck beach doodles based on a recent unfortunate sunscreen incident that definitely didn’t happen to me ft the aftermath of said incident and why “shirtless Jake English” is now viable on an insurance claim on Earth C 👀

[jewelstole]

💎

[kanene-yaaay]

Lending a Helping Hand (Tickletober Day 1)

Kanene's Notes: I wrote this on a whim, not gonna lie jhgtfdefghjdfgh. For some reason I suddenly felt compelled to participate of this lovely even so here I am! I am following both @/august-anon tickletober list and @/Jamiedraws mxtxtober list because I wanted to see what would come out of mixing those two together juygtfghjdcfgh I think most of my stories will be about mdzs so it seemed fitting :D Anyways, Day 1 - "Ghost" and "Antecipation".

Warnings: This is an AU. Ticklish!Jingyi and Ler!Wei Wuxian. Around 1.500 words.

[~*~]

The Patriarch Yiling was a devious monster, an empty shell of what had been once considered a man but now was known for atrocities beyond human comprehension. The sects still shivered at his name, parents used his story to make their children behave and other demonic cultivators dreamed of following his path, in archiving and surpassing the amount of power he once had. Every book that talked about The War talked of him. 

(But Hanguang Jun didn’t. He cut down every gossiping and always reminded them to have a critical mind when it came about the stories of one being told by another.)

But (almost) everyone could agree, he was a monster, and it was naive, crazy, even to believe you could win against him.

Jingyi was about to discover how crazy it was.

"Senior Wei!" He squirmed and ordered his hands to move, voice already trembling around the corners and getting a squeaky turn. It was all for nothing, just like before his own arms no longer answered him. Hysterical snickers began falling from his lips. "Stohohop! Why me?!"

"Well, you offered!" the ghost smiled and moved his hands towards him and with a scared kind of curiosity he watched as his own hands mirrored his move, wiggling fingers perfectly mirroring the older one in every mischievous twitch, getting closer until it was barely touching his clothes, still. The clear promise of a tickle attack made shivers run like electricity through his nerves. "Aiya, Jingyi! So young and your memory is betraying you already? Don’t you remember how you came to me so excited this morning, saying you wanted to help experimenting with my new ideas?"

Jingyi half groaned and half giggled. In his defense, it was very hard to try to remember something when a single finger decided to poke his ribs and make him dance from a side to another like he was performing the silliest of the dances. "Senior Wei!"

"Almost! Now repeat that but with less I-am-about-to-get-destroyed-by-ghost-tickles feeling. Don’t worry, I’ll help you remember.” Then, the ghost started doing a high pitched voice that sounded nothing like him. Jingyi would be bristling in protest if the (his?) hands found the horribly ticklish spot right next to his stomach and was trying to pinch it senseless. “'Senior Wei, Senior Wei! My classes have been canceled, can you believe? I can stay here with you the entire day!'" 

“This is not…” hs snorted and started to squirm even more, feeling himself slip more and more into titters. “Behehihing tickled to death was nohohot what I-I meheheant!"

Wei Wuxian chuckled mischievously, very much proud to realize that not even death took away his amazing tickling and teasing skills. He spent years honing it to perfect, afterall. “You should’ve been more clear, then. Or are you going back on your word, now? Tsk Tsk, and here I thought that the Lans prided themselves in their honor and fairness. Leaving a poor ghost here all alone, denying him his last wishes of experimenting and being happy before we part our ways. Refusing to even help me for a single day… Sniff. Where has the compassion gone in this new generation?"

Jingyi stomped his feet on the floor, protesting. The effect of it was dimmed by the giant smile going from ear to ear in his face. The hands now decided to “walk” with two fingers up and down his ribs, making his nerves dance with the anticipation and light tickling

"Y-you’re not going awahahay. And I can’t spend the entire day like this, stohohohop tickling me!"

“Tickling? I would never!” Wei Wuxian gasped and pulled his hands a few inches away from his skin, wiggling them in front of his face and giving the whole “ghost tickles” a new meaning as Jingyi squeaked and kept giggling uncontrollably, almost feeling this wiggling touch back on his torso. “See? I am not even touching you and you are still laughing, that has nothing to do with me.”

“I am nehehever-” his face was starting to get hot, looking at the playful way Senior Wei looked at him with a merciless grin definitely didn’t help. The more the older one kept poking, playing, teasing him, the more he felt that he would crumble in the very moment the actual tickling started. “nehehever helping yohohour experiments agahain.”

"Aw, but you must, Jingyi! Aren't you excited to know what will happen? Who will win, your natural defenses or my attack? Shizui, Don't you think it's an important research to know if ghosts can make you tickle yourselves?"

"It's not!" Jingyi's protesting words disappeared in a shriek when his hands pretended to lunge to his body, clawing, only to stop to hover above his belly. More uncontrollable, protesting giggles fell like a waterfall from his mouth. "Thahahat's stupid. Shihihihihizui, tell him!"

Shizui, like the good, righteous kid he was, pretended he heard nothing of their banter and kept feeding the rabbits hopping around him. When Wei Wuxian turned away snickering and twirling around Jingyi teasingly, he sent his friend an apologetic smile.

Wei Wuxian continued with plenty of mirth and dramatics. Delighted as always to be free to exercise his pranking rights. "Is that how you talk with your seniors? Lan Jingyi, what would Hanguang-Jun say?"

"He wohohohould protect me!"

"Would he, now? So where's your Hanguang-Jun, huh? To take you out of the evil Patriarch Yilling’s claws."

“Nohohot evil. Stohohop it.”

Wei Wuxian’s grin softened, for a moment. Then he lightened up once more. “Maybe I could even tickle him when he appears! It would take me much more energy but can you imagine? Is Hanguang Jun even ticklish? Have you ever seen he gig-" The ghost stopped as if he had been his, going from looking thoughtful for a moment then startled and embarrassed. If Jingyi didn't know him better, he could say a flash of hunger appeared in his eyes. Probably he was already going crazy because of the antecipation, though.

"Anyway!" He clapped his hands and Jigyi's own followed his moves. He tried once more squirm free from it, but it was impossible to concentrate his qi enough to push away the... possession? Control? Whatever this was before Wei Wuxian got a hold of it once again.

A loud squeal flew from his mouth when a finger poked too close his bellybutton, and he immediately descended in stronger giggling. 

The smirk that opened in Wei Wuxian face was positively evil. 

"I think we found a good spot." He sing-songed, the finger started circling his bellybutton, lightly scribbling the trembling skin around it, pulling guffaws that stopped him from pulling his belly away from the ticklish touch. Everytime it tried to twitch away, the finger would poke and poke and poke the button until he was too distracted to protest. “Sehehehenior Wei, wait!”

For a blissful second, he did.

Somewhere near, someone was letting out the most high pitched, half disparate and half joyful laughter. Jingyi felt his entire body want to run away, to squirm and trash and laugh with all the energy he was holding still. Only when he opened one eye to look at the floating ghost in front of him and his childhood friend smiling softly in the background did he realize he was the one responsible for these sounds. 

A silly snort intertwined in his laughter.

Wei Wuxian tapped a finger on his lips, pensative.

“Should I? Should I wait a bit more?” The finger scraped the tiniest bit on the walls of his bellybutton and Jingyi jumped on the same place, nodding and giggling and snorting and making himself stand still so the tickling wouldn’t be worse. “Hmmm, let me think about it…”

The finger kept light touches, soft tickles grazing the horribly ticklish skin. Jingyi shook his head at it.

Until it finally stopped.

A breath of air, his snickers were still filling the air.

Wei Wuxian tsked. “No. I don’t think I will.” 

And then attacked. 

(Shrieking, mirthful laughter danced in the air.)

[~*~]

Something something wat if Lan Wangji palyed Inquiry and Wei Wuxian answered something something what if he became closer to Shizui and Jingyi and watched and helped them as they grew up something something what if those 13 years of waiting were filled with his laughter and love something something.

[weptsorrow]

// is it a common thing for canon rpers to worry about how their characters changes with time? like... the canon character is, in a sense, limited to their experiences/development within their media. but then u take them to tumblr rp, a collaborative writing experience, and. they're bound to change in some way. grow and develop. do you let them. or do you keep them within what was established for them by all means neccessary.

[bcneheaded]

I was just thinking and... Artemis is not kind. yes, for all his friendliness, and all the fancy and amicable language and behaviors he displays outwardly to just about everyone who enters his shop... he's not genuinely nice. Artemis is a demon. in any verse of his, he used to be something akin to a spirit/god of LOVE, but was twisted into Wrath, or Hatred - which is the opposite. After leaving the pits of hell, having his little demonic tantrum and breakdown and finally growing weary and finding some semblance of clarity, he's grown out of what he was once again, and became something new. He's still wrathful, hateful, angry, and morose, but now he's so much more without even realizing. He's evolved and will continue to do so over time even if he stagnates for decades, centuries even. The friendships and relationships with other muses that he develops will influence his personality and the way he views things in time, as we've seen it happen already countless times ofc! And for those who did earn his respect and care, he does truly care for them and would gladly go out of his way for them (to what degree depends entirely on the level of closeness). But again.... Artemis is not kind, by nature and he hasn't been for a very, very long time. He was genuinely just plain and simple EVIL He was a villain - a monster, unrecognizable to how he acts now- doing horrible, unspeakable deeds for the pleasure of it. It's how he got the bones he wears in and on his body. So while he might be polite, charming even, and friendly - if he does not know you... he doesn't care about you nor what happens to you. If say for example, he sees you wandering that ruined cityside he lives in - rampant with entities that prey on the Living - and he saves you from being taken by evil spirits or demons? Chances are good that he did it for himself, or to be spiteful - to deny the other entities their prize (you / your soul). If he doesn't know you, the likelihood that he'll go out of his way for you is very low. But if there's something in it for him, some kind of reason as to why it might be worth his time and energy to actually step in... he might! But like all demons, it's good to be wary and to assume he doesn't care about you or your well-being, at least at first!! Artemis is not nice, but that doesn't mean he's malicious or cruel (anymore. not intentionally - he's quite literally under the mindset that he's just 'too old and tired for that nonsense'.) Artemis is manipulative, charming, cunning - he's everything you expect from a demon (though without a host, so he's certainly not attractive in any semblance of a conventional manner lmao - but he dresses well! and I think it's also telling just how-- *gestures at all that* --that he actually is, considering he's NOT attractive... but still puts people at ease, mostly, and can charm them to hell and back if he wanted to. He uses that not to manipulate people per say ?? like, he does not have an evil agenda by any means. He's just existing at this point, distanced from the gods and devils and just living his... life(?) if you can call it that. He's TRYING to do better. But he's still just... a demonic entity. A greater demon, for sure, if he had to be equated to some kind of level or whatever, but a demon nonetheless. But even for demons, there can be growth! and he is growing, very very slowly.

[mad-hunts]

AHH, i know the general consensus on that poll that i did a while ago was that blonde hair barton is the preferred one — but just give me a second y'all to go INSANE over this specific picture of barton's FC as a brunet, because i am SLAMMING my hands on the table loudly and looking (dis)respectfully!!

[serpulalacrymans]

//SO! Was thinking a little bit about my muse portrayal. I think I've grown too comfortable playing Lawrence... Submissively. I think I write him far too soft. He doesn't bare his teeth enough, and while I like playing him gentle, I have to admit I have been slacking quite a bit in giving him that sharp edge he has. I've never been very good at balancing soft but cynical, but this is something I will be trying to correct from this point onward.

[enidonline]

cobra Kai Johnny literally isn’t even real who is this man. Let me in the writers room you bastardes can’t get it right