#it caught me by surprise *again* and made me wheeze

[smaller-comfort]

Yolande Fortwal- more like FOURTH WALL amirite? (yes, v, that's the joke.) (In my defense, I also didn't catch Captain Cliche until after I'd beaten the game and someone mentioned it on reddit.)

I'm finally getting around to new game + and tactician's mettle, and I want to study all of the pirates under a microscope.

[barcaatthemoon]

company & comfort ||alexia putellas x reader||

you take care of alexia when she gets sick.

the incessant beeping of alexia's alarm pulled the woman out of a deep sleep. she woke surprised to find herself fast asleep in an empty bed. usually you were still asleep whenever she woke up. that was just the first of a few things that alexia woke up noticing were off. the second was the pounding in her head, like someone was taking a jackhammer to her skull trying to break a piece off.

a normal person would have taken that as a sign that they were sick, but alexia wasn't normal by any standards. you had always held her in an extraordinairy regard. alexia didn't take sick days like everyone else. she was the captain of the biggest women's soccer club in the world, and that came with extra duties. simply put, alexia didn't believe that she could afford to get sick as far as her career was concerned.

"ale, are you okay? you look a little pale." it was asked purely out of concern for your girlfriend, only to be met with a nasty glare from alexia. she softened the expression on her face a little when she noticed the way that you backed away from her.

"my head, it hurts a little. that's all. nothing like last week," alexia said. you were pretty sure that she was reassuring herself more than she was telling you. it most likely was the bug that had run through nearly half the team during their break. you had caught it from ona, who had begged you to take care of her when she came down with the sickness. after that, alexia had taken care of you and despite being in close proximity to you for the whole time you were sick, she hadn't shown any symptoms. at least she hadn't until today.

"well, take some medicine and go lay down. i'll let coach know that you don't feel well. better to nip this quickly than let it fester and grow," you told her. alexia didn't like the idea of sitting at home all afternoon, but she wasn't in the headspace to argue. that was your clue that alexia really wasn't feeling good because you swore sometimes that arguing with you was her second favorite past time.

alexia took some of the leftover medicine from when you had gotten sick and laid back down in bed. you made something small for her to eat, knowing that even if alexia was sick, that didn't mean her appetite would be gone. alexia's body ran on a schedule, and you had assigned yourself the job of making sure that she could rely on you to keep her on that schedule. the last thing you wanted was to somehow have alexia in worse condition after taking care of her.

"aw, poor baby. can i get you anything else?" you asked. there wasn't really much that you could do, but since you had already gotten sick, you could offer a bit of company and comfort. alexia didn't say anything, but she did open her arms up and shift over just enough to allow you plenty of room on the bed.

you smiled to yourself as you got in bed next to her. instead of wanting to be held like you had, all alexia wanted to do was hold you while she was sick. she wrapped her arms around you as your head settled on her chest. you could hear her wheezing with each breath, which deeply unsettled you. alexia seemed to pick up on your sudden discomfort and began rubbing little circles on your back.

"maybe if my head starts to feel better later, we can go out and play a little? i was really looking forward to practice today," alexia suggested. if she really did have what you had, there was no "getting better" for today. you hummed in agreement. you did want to go out and play a little, even if you weren't really looking forward to practice. it was a cardio day, which meant lots of running and sprints, which as a goalkeeper, was not your strong suit.

"just because you're sick doesn't mean i'm letting you get a goal on me." alexia chuckled at that. in reality, you knew that alexia would get a goal on anyone if she really wanted to. she had proven it time and time again in practice. the days whenever you had been a little mouthy, she had even started to have a little fun with it. both you and alexia knew that she could utterly humiliate you if she really wanted to.

"after i rest, it's all over for you," alexia teased. you didn't completely doubt it. she'd remember your teasing for the next practice she felt good enough to attend. alexia never went easy on you. everybody on the team knew that you were together, and alexia didn't want them to think that she was going soft. technically, it made you a better goalkeeper, but at the end of most days, it had you harboring some negative feelings about that day's practice.

alexia's hands ran through your hair, slowly coming to a stop as she fell back asleep. you quickly joined her in slumber, always glad to get a couple of extra hours here and there. alexia wasn't a big fan of naps, not even after a grueling practice or long week. she could keep going and going until she completely burnt herself out and was forced to take a step or two back for a moment. getting to lay in bed all day with alexia was like a secret blessing for you. you hated that she felt bad, but you were glad to see her getting proper rest for once.

even when she had woken up, alexia didn't make any moves to try and do anything. she did join you in the kitchen when you decided to make some soup, but that was only because she didn't trust your cooking completely. you knew that you weren't the best cook, but alexia had asked for homemade soup and agreed to talk you through it so there was no way that you could mess it up.

"stop making that face, i told you we should have ordered in," you said as alexia grimaced a little. the soup was somehow incredibly salty despite you not having done anything aside from exactly what alexia told you. she had even measured out the spices for you, and yet, you deemed the soup nearly inedible.

"it's fine, i swear. i just am not very hungry. can you get me a gatorade mi carina?" alexia asked you sweetly. you nodded, giving her a peck on the lips as you got up. she had finally given up on telling you not to do that, which you were grateful for. alexia even leaned in to kiss you whenever you brought the drink back to her.

the two of you laid on the couch together watching a movie until alexia started coughing. you sat up with her and rubbed her back until the fit stopped. alexia's eyes were watering as she sat on the couch trying to catch her breath. it broke your heart to see her in any kind of pain, especially since the last time you saw her cry was when she got injured.

"it's okay, i've got you," you tried soothing her. alexia tried to stand up from the couch, but she fell back almost instantly. "take it easy. do you want to go back to bed?"

"no, i want to go on the balcony. i need a change of scenery," alexia told you. you helped her up and over to the balcony. the two of you sat down in the chairs, alexia putting her feet up on your lap to stretch out. "thank you for taking care of me today, mi carina. i know that i did not do this good a job when you were sick."

"it's okay, i like taking care of you. today has been surprisingly easy." you pushed alexia's legs off of your lap and leaned over her chair to give her a kiss. alexia put her hands on the back of your neck to hold you close for a couple of seconds after the kiss. "i'll always take care of you, even if you won't let me."

"sometimes, i swear you are too good for me." you vehemently disagreed with alexia's sentiment, but you weren't going to argue with her today. instead, you pressed another kiss to her lips before you sat back in your own chair. in your mind, alexia was too good for you, but you weren't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. alexia loved you just as much as you loved her, and that was what mattered.

[hmusunoo]

𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘

desc. │ ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴊᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴛ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴘᴀɪɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ ɴᴜʀꜱᴇʀʏ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ.

warnings. │ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰʏ

“This pink …or this pink!” You had been in the paint aisle of this store for at least an hour rummaging through the various shades of pink in the hopes of finding the perfect one to adorn the walls of your child’s nursery.

Jay followed you like a happy little puppy giving pointers when he felt necessary but really only staring at you the entire time you shopped. He was enthralled by your enthusiasm, so hopelessly in love with you he enjoyed watching you pick out paint colors for crying out loud.

You held up two papers with what Jay thought was the same color pink. “Whichever one you want sweetheart” He smiled, kissing you lightly on your temple and pulling you close to his body. You whined squirming from his hold. “Jayyy” You protested cutely “Help me pick”

“They look the same to me” Jay laughed, grabbing the two sample papers and inspecting them closely. “They’re pink”

“Ugh boys” You scoffed yanking the samples from his hand. “This one” You enunciated “Is primrose pink” You held up the paper to his face allowing him all of a second to inspect it. “and this one is chalk pink. completely different colors babe” You spoke in a matter of fact tone that made Jay’s heart swell. You were just too cute he couldn’t help it.

“Hmmm…” Jay said again making a show of inspecting the two samples “I think i prefer primrose pink, right?” He held the card out to you. Your dainty fingers grabbed at the paper brushing lightly againsts Jay’s fingers, he flipped your palm over before you had the chance of pulling away intertwining your hands together.

“Are we done now? are you satisfied?” He asked smiling. You let out a little huff of air before looking down at the samples one more time then nodding primly. “Okay, primrose pink it is”

The two of you began your venture to the check out lane stopping a few times to look at things that may have caught your eye. Nothing promising enough to buy though. Once you checked out you happily made your way home eagerly awaiting setting up your baby girls nursery.

You were about seven months along now, your stomach round and heavy as your baby grew. You and Jay were excited to become parents something you had always discussed when talking about your future together. And although this pregnancy was an unplanned surprise it didn’t make you any less excited. You were starting a family with the love of your life.

Upon arriving home Jay carried all the bags and paint tins upstairs and into the empty room that would soon become the nursery.

You clapped excitedly following behind him grabbing at the plastic bags to get everything out that you needed to get started.

“Don’t over exert yourself sweetheart” Jay laughed “I’m here to help you.”

“I’m so excited!” You squeaked pulling a little pink bunny plush from the bag. “This is so cute!” You were gushing over all the small things you had gotten pulling everything out until there was a heap of things on the floor.

“We should start painting first, that will take the longest with the drying and everything” Jay said grabbing all the necessary tools to paint.

“Oh! i forgot” You sprinted from the room in a hurry running to your closet to grab two smocks that you had ordered especially for this in mind. You skipped back into the nursery handing Jay his smock. He took it in his hands looking it over before letting out a belly aching laugh. “Daddy bear?” He wheezed holding the smock up right. It was a light blue smock, at the top of the pocket on the front of the smock was a tiny teddy bear poking its head out of the pocket. The words daddy bear engraved just below it.

“Mine says Mommy bear” You said holding up the nearly identical smock, the only difference being yours was a light pink opposed to the blue that was Jay’s.

Shortly after laughing at your choice of smocks, you and Jay got to work on painting the nursery. The sound of music playing over the loud speaker and your voices yapping away about unimportant topics was all that was heard throughout the small apartment that you and Jay shared.

After nearly two hours of painting the walls were almost finished, your feet had began to hurt so you decided to take a breather sitting yourself in the rocking chair that had been placed in the corner of the small room.

“are you tired baby?” Jay said turning to look over at you, a small spec of pink paint had dried up on his cheek the sight of it making you giggle. “I’m just take a break” You said in between your laughs.

“What are you laughing at?” Jay was confused stepping down from the step stool that he was on. He walked over to you a small smile on his face. “You have a little-“ You reached your hand out, fingers ghosting over the small amount of paint of his cheek.

“A little?-“ Jay questioned the smile on his face morphing into a smirk. You blamed your pregnancy brain for not catching on that he was teasing you, planning an attack on you at this very moment.

You innocently brought your hand up again, reaching to show him where the paint had dried but before you reached him, his hand softly latched onto your wrists moving it over and out of the frame of your face before he quickly lifted the paint brush in his hand smearing pink paint down your cheek.

The small spec of paint was nothing compared to what now adorn your face. A gasp of surprise left your plump lips as Jay hunched over in a fit of laughter. “Park Jong-seong!” You shrieked. “How dare you!” You let out a laugh, Jay’s smile widening at the angelic sound.

“I’m sorry baby-“ Jay said taking a break to catch his breath from all the excessive laughing. “Actually…no i’m not” Your eyes widened before forming into slits. “You look too adorable when you’re trying to be angry sweetheart” Jay teased.

“Whatever” You huffed crossing your arms over your chest in fake annoyance. Little did Jay know an idea was brewing in your mind.

“Do you happen to have those sticker hearts for the walls?” You asked Jay changing the subject with haste. Jay’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “um..in the bags i think” He said pointing at the two unopened plastic bags you had left.

You ripped open the bag in a hurry grabbing the sticker hearts from out of it.

“We should continue painting” You said innocently over your shoulder. Jay nodded rummaging through his supplies to find a different paint brush and started painting once again.

After another coat and several minutes later Jay had finished with the painting for the night. You twiddle with the packet of sticker hearts in your hand readying yourself to hurriedly stick them on Jay’s face.

You found the perfect opportunity when Jay had crossed the room to approach you, sweeping you into to his arms kissing your forehead a few times.

“I’m beat” He sighed lips smushed against your cheek as he spoke.

“Me too” You whispered lifting your hand just slightly so he wouldn’t notice what you were doing.

“I’ll run us a bath” He sighed, closing his eyes in contentment the moment was almost too perfect to disrupt. Too bad you were competitive and you weren’t going to let what happened earlier go.

In a rush you lifted your hand smashing the sticker hearts to Jays cheek and swiping quickly at them with a paint filled brush. The hearts now sloppily embellished into his skin with paint.

Jay jumped up the surprise written on his face as he pulled the stickers from his cheek analyzing the hearts that were now over his face.

You let out a giggle. “Got you!”

—

sorry for the rushed ending ): hope yall like this cute little short fic! Jay is so sweetie pie.

[queenendless]

WELCOME HOME

A/n: Short fic. Cause I miss my bird baby. AU TIME based off World Heroes Mission. Hawks/Keigo Takami x Adult!Fem!Reader.

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGARIZE, COPY, EDIT, AND/OR STEAL MY FANFIC WORK. If you enjoy my fan content, then reblog, like, comment, n follow pls n thnx u.

Keigo Takami.

The #2 Hero.

The Winged man that goes too fast in his line of work and in life.

Yet every time he stops by your place; your shared place, he goes at a somewhat normal pace. The norm of being with you made him want to relish in every moment spent together.

Letting the balcony doors open to let out the steam of cooking was one thing. Being his personal doorway in was the better fun option.

The place was always cozy and warm when it's you two.

But dating a pro means lots of patrols, late nights handling cases, and dangerous missions facing criminals and villains from all walks of life.

Like right now.

The worldwide operation of defeating the terrorist cult organization Humarise from activating their Trigger bombs designed to release gas that drives all Quirk users who inhale the gas to go berserk as their chemically enhanced powers toxically overwhelm them.

The World Heroes Association mobilized heroes around the world to seize those bombs along with every member and ally of the group.

Thankfully, the bombs were defused.

The world was averted from disaster.

Despite the official reports the news covered on the event, in your heart, you knew there was more to it.

So you felt your heart soar over the moon when the sight of red and yellow was caught from the corner of your eye by the balcony.

“Hey baby bird.”

Standing right there outside, he bowed to you, a gloved hand offered to you.

“Miss me?”

Your feet moved on their own. Water clouded your eyes. He caught your running self jumping into his arms with ease, swinging you side by side, gently squeezing you in kind.

“I did.” You mumbled in his neck, kissing his skin showing there, feeling his warm beating pulse against your lips.

“I missed you too. So damn much.” His stubbled chin brushed your cheek before planting several smooches there.

The anxious tension filling his heart ever since this Humarise operation began would not rest until he saw you again with his own eyes. And it did.

“Congrats on the success of your mission.” Your proud smile beamed up at him, earning a blush tinting his ears, his neck, and his cheeks.

His bashful grin rewarded you. “Thanks. It was a worldwide team effort, though.”

“I love you Kei.” Your tight squeeze of a hug made your birdman wheeze out at the surprising strength it held.

His wings surrounded you as he squeezed you right back. “I love you too, Y/n.”

You two would spend the remainder of the night cuddling, a comfy blanket shared by you both, as you let the TV run in the background, until you both finally conked out.

Tonight he got to spend with you safe and sound in his arms at last.

[pin-k-ink]

cotton candy // oikawa tooru

tw ⇢ none. absolutely none…i think.

wc ⇢ 3k

a/n: there’s no special reason as to why i named this fic ‘cotton candy’ other than the fact that i’m craving cotton candy right now

Oikawa Tooru had been caught staring off into space one too many times lately - a dreamy, uncharacteristically lovestruck expression plastered across his usual smug mug. If his teammates noticed his distractingly dopey smiles during practice, they knew better than to call him out on it. At least, not when the source of Oikawa's endless endearing habits sat just a few rows over in their shared lecture hall.

You'd think after finally landing an actual date - let alone an official girlfriend - with his latest object of affection, the self-proclaimed playboy would have dialed it back a notch or two. But no, your acceptance of Oikawa's advances had only turbocharged his ardor into maximum overdrive.

"Dude, put your tongue back in your mouth before you choke on it," Hanamaki muttered in a tone thick with second-hand embarrassment. He not-so-subtly gestured towards the front of the hall, where you sat obliviously taking notes.

Oikawa blinked dazedly, pulling his sappy gaze away from the back of your head long enough to flash his friend an exaggerated pout. "Iwa-chan, Makki's being crass and horrible again!" he whined petulantly.

From Oikawa's other side, Matsukawa poorly stifled a wheezing laugh into his palm as Iwaizumi simply pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"Can't you keep it in your pants for just one goddamn lecture?" he grumbled, side-eying his hopelessly enamored vice-captain.

Rather than seem even remotely chagrined, Oikawa's expression melted back into that same moony, fond look from earlier. He propped his chin in his hand, tracking your every micro-movement with shameless ardor.

"Look at her though," he murmured in a disgustingly affectionate coo. "She's just so gosh darn pretty, especially when she gets that little crinkle between her eyes while concentrating."

A beat of silence passed before Hanamaki made an overly dramatic retching noise into his notes.

"Ugh, get a room already, loverboy!" he griped, shoving at Oikawa's shoulder roughly. "All this love propaganda is gonna leave me single forever."

Oikawa simply waved off his friend's snarky remarks, completely unfazed as his dazzling infatuation remained locked onto you. A blissful little sigh escaped his lips when you politely raised your hand to ask a question, your melodic voice washing over him like a trance.

"I swear, if Shittykawa doesn't quit zoning out every two seconds and lets this thing slip through his grabby little hands..." Iwaizumi grumbled under his breath.

Despite Oikawa's teammates' incessant grumbling over his constant lovestruck ditziness, nothing could shake him from your unintentional thrall. If anything, your radiant presence only seemed to amplify his habit of getting flustered into a stammering, blushing mess.

Case in point: the two of you were supposed to be enjoying a casual study date between classes. Oikawa had whipped out his usual million-watt smile as you'd strolled up, immediately leaning in for what he assumed would be an innocent greeting peck.

Only for his lips to graze your cheek just as you happened to turn at the last second, inadvertently capturing your own soft kiss in a searing, knee-weakening lip-lock.

A strangled squeak tore from Oikawa's throat as he jerked back, eyes blown wide in surprise and cheeks flaring crimson. He stared at you in utter dumbfoundment, utterly disarmed by the sweet intimacy of your momentarily intertwined mouths. Meanwhile, you simply offered a shy giggle and shimmied into the seat beside his frozen form.

"Aren't you smooth?" you teased, nudging his rigid side playfully.

Oikawa's mouth worked uselessly for several moments before he finally spluttered, "I-I, uh...y-yes! The smoothest!"

Somehow, the flustered bravado in his proclamation only made his lingering blush that much more endearing. You shook your head fondly, quite accustomed to his particular brand of cringeworthy flusteredness.

"Come on, Casanova, we've got work to do," you chuckled, slinging an arm around his waist in a casual side-hug.

Oikawa squeaked again - an embarrassingly high-pitched sound for a 6-foot athlete - before hastily clearing his throat into a bodly fist. Still, the bashful smile tugging at his lips refused to fade as he guided you through the study materials with one arm slung around your shoulders. His rich umber eyes kept drifting towards you in unbridled adoration, drinking in every scrunch of concentration furrowing your brow.

Needless to say, not all that much productive studying actually ended up happening thanks to Oikawa's hopelessly distractible infatuation. By the time your group let out for the evening, he could have sworn his heart had galloped a million miles during each accidental brush of your knees or gaze catching his.

Which is why, of course, he naturally defaulted to his favorite brand of pageantry in a bid to impress and fluster you all over again. Oikawa bounded onto the court decked out in his full knee pads and game attire, twirling the volleyball between his palms with unnecessary flair.

"Care to stay and watch your Captain's pre-practice routine, gorgeous?" he lilted, punctuating the invitation with an overexaggerated wink.

Your responding laugh and amused eye roll was like music to his love-addled ears. "I guess I could spare a few minutes," you acquiesced at last. "Maybe cheer for you loudly and embarrass you in front of your teammates?"

Oikawa stumbled mid-flourish, nearly spiking the ball directly into his own startled face. "N-Now you're just being mean!" he pouted, deftly recovering into a theatrically wounded expression.

Still, his eyes sparkled with unabashed glee watching as you settled into the front-row bleachers, utterly enraptured despite your teasing threat. Squaring up that million-watt grin of his, Oikawa gave an overly dramatic courtly bow before bouncing back to bask in the warmth of your full, undivided attention showering over him.

Practice that evening was singularly, gloriously mindless. Each impressive spike, soaring set, and diving defensive dig flowed as naturally as breathing - all simply serving as additional plumage for Oikawa's unending mating ritual aimed directly at you.

By the time his teammates convened for their usual cool-down stretches, Oikawa was practically glowing with gratification and endorphins. Matsu and Makki shot him their usual long-suffering looks of disgruntlement while Iwaizumi merely grumbled something about "extra laps for showing off."

Oikawa paid their eye-rolling no mind whatsoever. He was too busy bounding over to where you lingered by the safety railing, practically vibrating with nervous energy. Grabbing an extra towel, he vigorously scrubbed the perspiration from his brow and neckline.

"So, how did I— mmPH!"

His not-so-smooth attempt at soliciting praise was promptly cut off by your impulsive tug on his practice jersey. The slightly scratchy material went taut as you pulled Oikawa flush against you, capturing his lips in a searing kiss that robbed the boastful tease of whatever self-satisfied line he'd been gearing up for.

When you finally released him, Oikawa staggered back on unsteady legs, looking thoroughly kissed into dazed submission. A lopsided, deliriously goofy smile split his flushed face as he gazed at you in absolute awestruck reverence.

"...Perfect," he breathed, fingers skating over his tingling lips in disbelief. "You were...perfect."

In which case, perhaps getting disgustingly, hopelessly whipped was the greatest thing to ever happen to Seijoh's Captain after all.

Oikawa's relentless infatuation showed no signs of waning once you two stepped off campus grounds. If anything, his overwhelming need to dote and fawn over you only amplified in public settings.

Take your first official date night, for instance. Oikawa had insisted on making dinner reservations at the trendiest new fusion restaurant in town - the type of sleekly modern establishment that required sending the hostess a 300-word compelling essay on why you deserved a coveted table.

Despite the unnecessary extravagance, you couldn't help feeling charmed by his transparent eagerness to thoroughly impress you from the moment you stepped through the artisan ceramic entrance. Oikawa was on his A-game from the start, gallantly pulling out your chair with a flourish before showering you with a barrage of flattering compliments.

"Has anyone ever told you how incredible your eyes are in this lighting?" he fawned, chin propped in one hand as he gazed at you with unabashed rapture. "That hue is just...exquisite."

You ducked your head with a bashful giggle, trying to ignore the curious side-eyes from neighboring tables. "You're being ridiculous."

"No, I'm being factual!" Oikawa retorted with a scandalized gasp. He made a show of leaning across the table to brush a lock of hair from your cheek, practically radiating a halo of hopeless doting. "Why, they remind me of a spring meadow sparkling with morning dew. Simply captivating."

By dessert, you were practically melting into a liquefied puddle of second-hand embarrassment over his grand romantic gestures. Because of course Oikawa simply had to sweep you up into a melodramatic ballroom-style dip on the sidewalk outside while bidding you goodnight. Plush lips ghosted a hair's breadth from yours as he cradled you in an effortlessly practised show of strength.

"Until next time, my radiant flower," he breathed in a devastatingly sultry register.

You could only manage a strangled squeak in response, utterly spellbound by Oikawa's smoldering proximity searing away all coherent thought. Right on cue, a chorus of dreamy female sighs echoed from the sidewalk crowd that had gathered - a small live studio audience swooning for his swoon-worthy antics.

As if pre-scripted, Oikawa's decadent mahogany gaze slid sideways to drink in the admiring scene with his trademark self-satisfaction. That confidence only faltered when he realized each enamored female was fixing you, not him, with hopeless looks of envy and yearning.

You watched in slack-jawed awe as those iconic Oikawa brows proceeded to furrow into the most uncharacteristic, childishly bereft pout. Clearly, not being the sole object of infatuation didn't sit well with the former serial flirt. Not anymore.

With a sharp huff, he whipped you both upright before looping a possessive arm around your waist and sweeping you off down the street. Oikawa angled his body like a shield between you and the gaggle of admirers, never once breaking that adorably petulant moue of concentration.

"Pay them no mind," he finally huffed after a full block of your curious side-glances. "They're simply jealous because the most gorgeous person in the universe already belongs to me."

Any reservations over his bold statements were promptly dissolved by the blazing earnestness Oikawa leveled your way. You bit back a goofy grin as he hugged your smaller frame closer against his sturdy warmth, every action simply dripping territorial ardor.

"Of course, my narcissistic darling," you teased, leaning up to brush a chaste kiss against his scowling mouth.

Oikawa's indignant grumbling instantly melted into a dreamy sigh, expression slipping back into shameless infatuation as you two continued merrily on your way. Each flicker of returning humility seemed to last mere seconds before his swaggering self-indulgence and confident preening reasserted itself anew.

It was a never-ending rollercoaster of egoism and moonstruck timidity that you quickly learned to accept as simply...well, your Oikawa being Oikawa. Especially in public forums where he could properly flaunt and cherish you.

One sunny Saturday morning downtown proved to be a veritable whirlwind tour of his bi-polar courting. You had suggested doing some casual windowshopping and small bites touring since the weather was so lovely out. Oikawa readily agreed, perhaps a bit too hastily, given how you ended up spending the first hour looping back and forth across the same three-block radius.

"Oooh, that dress would look stunning on you!" he practically squawked on your fourth lap past the trendy boutique window display. "Hold on, I'll buy it right now."

His sneakered feet worked double-time as Oikawa hustled towards the store entrance, ready to sweep through the intimate garment racks with all the unflappable determination of an Olympic shopper. You stalled him with a giggling tug on his elbow as he reached for the door handle.

"Babe, calm down! I was just admiring the color, I have enough summer dresses as it is."

For a beat, Oikawa simply gaped at you in utter bemusement, as if his earnest attempts at impressing you had once again short-circuited. But it only took a few stuttered blinks before he puffed up that broad chest in a resolutely self-important fashion.

"W-Well, of course! I knew that," he blustered, tossing his chestnut waves with a dismissive huff. "I simply wanted to, uh, gauge your opinion on whether I have worthwhile taste in fashion trends!"

You side-eyed his see-through self-aggrandizing defense with a bemused half-smile. Rather than call him out, you simply linked your arm through his and gave an adoring squeeze.

"Yes, Tooru, you have exquisite taste as always," you soothed with the gentle indulgence usually reserved for humoring small children.

Oikawa preened shamelessly at your praise, completely unfazed by the hint of playful mocking coloring your words. He was far too busy basking in the reflected glory of your undivided admiration.

Honestly, you wouldn't have traded his ridiculously endearing brand of pompous worship for anything. Not when Oikawa's gaze kept flickering back towards you with those soft, melted chocolate eyes of his - utterly smitten adoration etched across every plane and angle as he seared your image into his very soul.

It was enough to make you wonder which one of you had truly been rendered the biggest, most hopelessly lovestruck fan here.

Either way, your exuberant beau seemed determined to double down and stake his indisputable, over-the-top claim as your biggest admirer - both now and for the foreseeable future.

And oddly enough, you found you rather liked him that way - whipped, incorrigibly smitten, and absolutely, irrevocably yours.

Even in the comfort and intimacy of your shared home, Oikawa's relentless infatuation showed no signs of losing its overexcited edge. Case in point: it was a lazy Friday night in, the two of you curled up for a self-indulgent rewatch of some cheesy rom-com you'd both seen a million times already.

Rather than kick back on opposite ends of the sofa like any other regular couple, Oikawa simply would not allow even a millimeter of space to come between your tangled forms. As the opening credits rolled, he immediately slung an arm around your shoulders and tugged you flush against his side with a contented hum.

You tried to bite back a fond smile at his incurably snuggly antics. "Getting cozy there, are we?"

"Shhh," Oikawa hushed without breaking his rapt fixation on the TV. He somehow managed to gather you even closer into his personal bubble, leaving no wandering limb untwined or uncuddled. "I'm simply ensuring optimal viewing conditions for fully appreciating you - I mean, the movie!"

Chuckling under your breath, you relented to his poorly-covered slip of the tongue and wriggled into a more comfortable position nestled against Oikawa's pleasantly warm torso. You'd learned quickly that he was touch-starved in the most ridiculously endearing way when it came to seemingly mundane couple activities. Any opportunity to drown you in unending physical affection was treated like an all-out spa day in the Oikawa household.

Less than ten minutes into the film, you felt the first ticklish puffs of breath skating across the top of your head. Oikawa had abandoned all pretense of following the well-trodden plot in favor of burying his face into your hair and inhaling deeply. An elated sigh whistled from his nose as he nuzzled even closer, calloused fingers tracing idle patterns across your upper arm.

"You smell like strawberries today," he murmured in approval against your roots.

You squirmed with a snort of amusement. "That's because I used the fancy shampoo you got me for my birthday last week."

As if to confirm this fascinating revelation, Oikawa's nose plunged further into your tresses in a bout of unabashed scent-sampling. He let out a dreamy little hum of contentment, seemingly deaf to the tinny dialogue carrying on across the TV screen.

"Mm...that's my favorite. Albeit not as intoxicating as your natural aroma..."

You wrinkled your nose in a halfhearted show of protest. But just like every other time, Oikawa paid no heed to your feigned objections about excessive doting. He was too busy stroking the shampoo-scented strands with painstaking leisure, mapping every silken texture across his cheek like a massage therapist tending to an expensive wig.

Eventually, the gentle ministrations worked their way down to skirting the warm skin of your neck and shoulder blades. Oikawa traced the delicate junctures with tender fascination, leaning down to dust the barest flutter of an openmouthed kiss here and there. An appreciative shiver danced up your spine in response, eliciting a smug hum of male satisfaction.

"You're awfully handsy tonight," you remarked in a tone caught perfectly between flusterment and amusement.

"Can you blame me?" Oikawa crooned without an ounce of shame. His nimble fingers danced a blazing trail across your collarbone and down the sloping curves of your upper chest. "Having this much perfection nestled against me night after night - it's a miracle I don't ravish you more frequently."

You playfully swatted at his wandering hand, unable to stifle a laugh at his signature brand of melodramatic flattery. "Keep it in your pants, Tooru. I'm trying to watch the movie here."

Rather than heed your chiding, Oikawa took the opportunity to expertly unshoulder your shirt even further to better lavish your exposed skin with greedy, smoldering kisses. "Lies and slander," he growled between indulgent nibbles and sweeps of his talented tongue. "You know full well you're my favorite cinematography to indulge in."

"Ugh, you're hopeless!" you groaned through a fresh peal of embarrassed giggles. Squirming in Oikawa's embrace only spurred him on further, his lips working across your jaw and cheeks in utter disregard for how flushed you were turning.

Just when you thought he might finally give in and settle for simply canoodling, his rich amber gaze flickered up to meet yours - burning with a simmering intensity that never failed to make your heart skip a beat. Thick lashes hooded those eyes as Oikawa gave a lopsided, almost predatory grin that screamed "challenge accepted."

"Oh no, lover" he growled in a buttery baritone that brooked no arguments. "For you...I'm perfectly hopeless."

With that, Oikawa proceeded to demonstrate just how hopelessly infatuated he was with you via a searing, breathtaking kiss. It left you dizzied and limp as he eagerly drank in your quiet gasps of submission like an elixir. By the time he pulled away again, the movie lay long forgotten - a distant hum compared to Oikawa's singular worshipful focus claiming you with every heated caress and whispered endearment.

Yup, he was absolutely hopeless. And you deliriously, hopelessly wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 15 - "Fine explain it to me."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: Slight shipping but can be seen as platonic too

A/N: Just wanted to mention that I usually am more of a found family themed dpxdc writer but this was a self runner once I started writing until I realised that this could be seen as a ship.

Danny sipped on the champain, he was drinking leaning against the wall. Next to him, also leaning against the wall with crossed arms was Dan glaring at everyone that even remotely tried to approach them. Dani had disappeared into the crowds and Danny was convinced that she had made her way to the buffet table and had found a hiding place with whatever food she had piled up high on a plate. He had seen her do that before.

"How long do these things go?" Dan asked, glaring at someone specifically, Danny knew was a business partner of the fruitloop.

"A couple of hours, usually fruitloop lets us leave around 8 pm." Danny answered easily, surveying the area for any familiar face he might recognize despite knowing he wouldn't. Sam's family wasn't attending this gala and any face he could recognize was probably a business partner of Vlad or someone he had seen on a magazine cover.

"Dile back your glare. Your eyes are glowing red." He offhandedly mentioned to his time-clone-twin taking another sip. Dan only growled at him and looked stubbornly away, though his eyes lost the red color and turned back to a blue.

"How do you and Dani do this shit?"

Danny hummed, museing how things had changed over the past couple of years since Dani and him started to attend these Galas Vlad made them go too. "I hated it at first too. But you weren't socialized enough to attend and Dani used to flat out refuse but we got used to it and found our tactics on how to handle it. Dani usually raids the buffet and finds a hiding place, I just hang with Sam if she is here."

"But she is not." Dan growled, now glaring at a rich kid that had looked like it wanted to approach them but wisely decided to turn tail at Dan's glare. "These stuck up kids are trying to mock us aren't they?"

"Yup." Danny popped the p. "We could always ghost the fruitloop though."

"And have to listen to him lecturing us later? No thanks." Dan's eyes went over the people at this place. He saw Vlad talking to someone he was pretty sure had been on the cover of some tech magazine before but then his eyes stopped on a guy with black hair and blue eyes looking only slightly older than them that was staring at them very intensely.

Dan rammed his elbow into Danny's side, causing the other to wheeze and nearly drop the glass he was holding. The one he had spotted was now on his way to approach them and Dan narrowed his eyes. "You know that guy?"

Danny once he caught his breath again looked up and his eyes widened with recognition. "Shit!"

But before Dan could question the other about that guy, who was now speed walking with a business smile towards them, Danny grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him along with him. "We need to go, like right now."

Dan dragging his feed and making Danny literally drag him along only looked at his phone arching an eyebrow mockingly. "It's not 8 pm yet."

"Text the fruitloop. We are going-"

"Danny, what a pleasure to see you here, I didn't know you attended galas like this." Danny got cut off by the same guy Dan had spotted watching them. He hadn't seen how but somehow that guy had managed to cross the hall before them and block Danny's exit.

Dan heard Danny mutter a distinctive "fuck" before letting go of his elbow and smiling at the guy nervously. "Dick. What a surprise. I didn't know you would be here."

"Dick?" Dan repeated with an arched eyebrow but Danny swiftly stepped on his foot.

"Well Bruce thought it was about time again I attended one of the Galas with him again. You know how it is, don't you?" There was a glint in the other's eyes and Dan eyed him interested, the guy had some dirt on Danny. This was going to be interesting.

"Ah well yea, Vlad asked for me to come along too and someone got to represent my late parents too after all." Danny laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and clearly avoiding direct eye contact.

"Represent your late parents?"

"Yea funny thing, my parents willed their company to me and-"

"I thought you said you were an engineer working for Dalv.Co? To think I told you about how I am with the Waynes and yet you never mentioned even once to me your relation to Masters." Dan blinked, okay so that guy was a friend Danny had made somehow outside of Sam and Tucker.

"I do! I do, it's just that… well... I can explain!"

"Fine, explain it to me."

Danny appeared to be a flustered mess while this Dick was staring at him with crossed arms. Dan watched them with fascination and a small amount of satisfaction at how Danny fumbled with his words. He then felt a tuck at his side and locked down to find Dani offering him popcorn.

"That's Dick Greyson." Something suddenly clicked for Dan and he smirked down at Dani.

"The guy that's teaching your Gymnastic course that Danny always volunteers to take you too?"

Dani nodded once more and now also sporting a mischievous smile.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Mind over Mind - Hero Whumper Villain Whumpee

Warnings: torture, violence, forced compliance, mind control

Summary: Hero almost loses the fight against Villain... until she uses her unique powers to flip the tables.

Villain and Hero had been fighting for only an hour when both of them started to falter from exhaustion, but that's just the kind of fights they got into. Quick. Intense. Violent. Bloody. The kind that's hardly survivable for long.

Hero wielded two wickedly sharp daggers in her hands, while Villain had one in his left, and a serrated hunting blade in the other. Their weapons clashed together repeatedly, showering sparks onto the ground as they fought fiercely for the upper hand, both of them covered in sweat, bruises and dozens of vicious injuries inflicted by their opponent.

"Don't you ever know when to give up?" Hero grunted through gritted teeth as she blocked yet another one of Villain's attacks.

"Nope, apparently not," Villain sneered, and slashed a blade across Hero's ribs, slicing open a deep gash that made her cry out in pain. It was all the opening he needed. He didn't give her a chance to recover.

Villain closed the distance between them and brutally pummeled Hero with a series of quick blows, too fast for her to block or dodge. He punched her gut hard enough to crack ribs, before landing another blow on her jaw with a concussive amount of force, making her head snap back -- and the peak of the fight was over just like that.

Hero faltered and stumbled back with a broken, rattling wheeze, falling to the ground, and Villain descended on her like a bird of prey, wrapping a strong hand around her throat and lifting her up to pin her against a wall, squeezing hard.

Hero's eyes widened as she clawed desperately at the hand cutting off her air, thrashing uselessly in Villain's grip with slowly failing strength.

"The real question is... do you know when to give up?" Villain chuckled coldly.

Blood trickled from both corners of Hero's mouth as her terrified gaze locked with Villain's.

STOP! A booming voice suddenly roared in Villain's head, making him jerk back in surprise, losing his grip on Hero so that she crumpled to the ground, gasping and choking and coughing blood, her eyes still locked intensely on Villain.

Something brushed against Villain's mind that made him shiver, like claws brushing lightly against his brain, wandering and prodding uncertainly, as though searching for a hold. Then those claws turned sharp, deadly, sinking in.

Villain's whole body went stiff, muscles locking in place as that same voice spoke again.

That's right... obey.

Villain's blood went colder than ice, his face going pale as a slow, stretching pain spread through his body, setting every nerve on fire with excruciating agony as it sank into every part of him.

His mouth gaped, he tried to speak, but couldn't find his voice.

He was rooted to the spot with fear as Hero slowly picked herself up off the dirt, gasping and panting as she caught her breath, rubbing her neck where Villain's hand had been mere seconds away from crushing her windpipe.

She straightened with a groan, staggering a little before finding her balance, one arm wrapped protectively around her bleeding midsection. Then a crooked grin that was part-grimace broke out on her face as she spat out a mouthful of blood.

"My, how the tables have turned," she taunted, though it came out in a shallow, weak rasp of air.

"H-How..." Villain breathed, eyes enormous as they watched Hero with sudden wariness.

Because I never reveal all my playing cards, the voice echoed in his head. It sounded like Hero's -- but her mouth hadn't moved.

My single biggest advantage is letting people underestimate me, the voice continued.

Fear -- genuine, raw fear pulsed through Villain's entire being when he tried to move -- but physically couldn't.

He swallowed hard, fighting to tamp down the rising panic and maintain any shred of composure.

"W-What are you doing... how are you doing this?" He snarled, finally snapping out of the shock.

Hero limped towards him until she was inches away, the icy blue depths of her eyes boring into his, full of righteous anger.

"Surprise... my superpower isn't limited to super strength." She grinned wolfishly at his confusion, the utterly bafflement on her enemy's face.

Funny, isn't it? It's almost like... you don't have control over yourself anymore.

Again, Hero's mouth didn't move.

Hero bent over and picked up Villain's own fallen dagger, pressing it into his hand and resting the tip against her chest without a glimmer of fear.

"Go ahead, give it your best shot," she purred. "All it takes is one little push to kill me... try it if you can."

Villain shuddered as those strange mental claws tightened on him.

He gripped his dagger hard, mustering every inch of willpower in him to end it, to finally kill his greatest enemy, be rid of the menace -- his hand trembled, but he couldn't bring the blade forward.

"Don't tell me you're too weak for murder," Hero mocked with a dramatic gasp.

Villain's brow furrowed, and he held the hilt tighter, pushing, yanking against those restraints shackling him in his own mind. The blade jerked forward an inch, but no more than that, and Hero let out a cold, heartless laugh, easily swatting the weapon out of Villain's hand before roughly grabbing his jaw hard enough to bruise, forcing him to look straight into her cruel eyes.

Villain let out a weak whimper, ashamed that the sound even slipped out. But he was injured, and in pain, confused, and so, so scared... fear was a new feeling for him. He was the most powerful villain in the entire city, strong enough to beat Hero on several different occasions -- but never had he been rendered so vulnerable, so useless before, like a puppet with strings, at the complete mercy of his enemy.

Hero carefully wrapped her other hand around his throat, and step by deliberate step, backed him up until he was pinned against the opposite wall. She applied the same pressure that Villain had put on her windpipe earlier, and Villain's chest started heaving as he struggled to keep drawing air. His eyes went huge with disbelief, he couldn't even fight, his arms weren't working right. None of him was, bound and chained by some invisible force.

Spots danced in his vision, and right when he thought he would pass out the pressure on his neck vanished, leaving him taking great gulping gasps of air.

Hero leaned in close, her head right next to his face.

"Doesn't feel very good, does it?" She hissed into his ear before pulling back.

Her fingers trailed down his chest, almost seductively, running over the shredded lines of his suit where long gashes had sliced through and ripped the leather. They stopped at his stomach, grazing over a particularly deep slash right below the ribs.

Villain shuddered with a wince, a low moan escaping him, and he cursed himself for it.

Hero stared at him, then dug her fingers viciously into the wound, never breaking eye contact, her expression deadpan and impassive.

Villain screamed in sheer agony and writhed, which was more like weakly twitching against the bonds holding him in one place.

Hero took her fingers out, and Villain was left trembling all over with pain, his injury throbbing. His head lolled forward, breathing harsh and ragged as he recovered.

"Huh, even agony can't let you break free," she murmured aloud, as though she were experimenting with Villain, testing the limits of her ability. It was dehumanizing, degrading, and flat-out terrifying to know that Hero could do whatever she wanted to him. Holding his life in her hands.

"S-Stop it... L-Let me go..." Villain croaked. He couldn't help the shakiness in his voice, and Hero's eyes lit up at hearing it. "S-Since when could you even do this?" He added.

"Since always," Hero answered flatly. "I just never show it. I don't use this power often, because it is unfathomably taxing on my body in ways you couldn't even imagine, but today... today I'm feeling violent." Her teeth bared into a feral grin, making Villain shiver uneasily.

"I haven't practiced using it much, so I'm curious to see what potential... motivations might be enough for your willpower and desperation to let you break free of my hold." She tilted her head to one side, a lethal predator in every slight movement. "I can break you in so many ways beneath the surface," she whispered dangerously.

"Let's see how strong your resolve is, hmm?" Hero's gaze dropped down where a dagger was, and she stomped on the hilt, skillfully flinging it up into her waiting hand.

Villain whimpered again anxiously, squirming and eyeing the bright metal, and she pressed the blade against his lips.

"Shhh... all you have to do is raise your left hand when the pain becomes too much, and I'll stop," she said mischievously. A deadly game for her, toying with her new victim like a plaything.

Hero leaned close again, her breath ghosting above Villain's carotid artery as she scraped her teeth lightly against his neck, teasing, violating his space.

She trailed the sharp edge of the blade down his bare arm, not breaking skin at first as she smiled coldly. Then she sliced it deep without warning, tearing a ragged wail from Villain as she started carving into his flesh over and over again while her enemy screamed his throat raw.

Villain tried desperately to push her away, to stop the excruciating agony, do something but stand there and take it... but he couldn't. He physically couldn't.

Tears of pure pain spilled out of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks, hiccupping sobs breaking up his breaths at the sheer intensity of it, every time the blade left a fresh mark of fire in his flesh.

He could feel the warm blood sliding down his arm to drip on the floor with every pounding heartbeat, endless suffering. It was worse when she switched from his arm to the sensitive skin of his abdomen, and he screamed and yelped and cried out as the metal bit his skin repeatedly. Hero showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

Eventually the screaming devolved to agonized moaning and pathetic whimpers as Villain lost strength, his throat burning fiercely in the aftermath of all his loud cries.

Now, listen closely...

That voice returned in his head, and his stomach churned with dread. He couldn't take any more torture. Any more pain. His whole body was blazing with it.

Take the knife from my hand, and put it against your throat...

Hero held the dagger in her hand invitingly, stained with Villain's own blood.

Villain moaned as his shaky hand automatically lifted to take the blade, then his body betrayed him by resting the sharp, cool metal right under his chin. He swallowed against it, throat bobbing fearfully.

Saw through your neck.

Villain's eyes widened with terror, hand trembling as he fought against the mental claws Hero had sunk into him. But it was no use. The blade started slicing through his skin, and Villain closed his eyes, another teak leaking out as he accepted his fate.

...Now stop. Villain's body instantly obeyed, stiffening in place.

Villain took a rattling breath, cautiously opening his watery eyes to gauge Hero's expression, which was dark and unreadable.

I want you to remember this moment, her voice hissed into his mind, remember that I held your life in my hands... that I could have killed you right now... and I want you to run away from here with that memory, and the scar on your neck will remind you of me every time you look in the mirror. Run, and never come back. If I EVER see your face again... I will not stop.

And suddenly, a rush of cold washed over Villain, an aching absence of a hollow void that opened up, and Villain collapsed on the ground, panting as he felt those vicious mental claws retreat, releasing him at last.

Hero stepped back, eyes narrowed. "You have ten seconds to remove yourself from my line of sight before I change my mind. Run, or die. Ten."

Villain peered dizzily up at her, his face pale with blood loss. "...You're bluffing," he wheezed in disbelief.

"That is a theory you're certainly welcome to test. Nine." Hero's face stayed harsh and cruel, and Villain lurched to his feet with a gasp, not willing to risk the chance she'd given him.

He stumbled into an awkward, adrenaline-powered run, limping heavily away as fast as he could while Hero's voice trailed after him.

"Eight... seven... six..."

She never got to five before Villain was out of sight, slipping away into a dark alley. Gone. Never seen or heard from again.

I appreciate any and all feedback from my peers! 😁 (and if anyone has any other Hero x Villain prompt ideas or things they'd like to see more of feel free to share them and I might write a story for it)

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba

[thesunisatangerine]

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part twelve (final part)

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: mentions of grief, suggestive content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 5.2k

This wasn’t the first time you caught yourself thinking how difficult it was to have two professional athletes in your life, and it also wasn’t the first time you wondered how their bodies could store so much energy.

“Princess, slow down a bit. I think your mom needs to rest again.” 

Even with the distance, you could hear the teasing cadence in Alexia’s voice, made prominent by the use of her mother tongue, and you watched as the both of them slowly came to a halt, turning their heads to look at you over their shoulders. At the extra attention, your cheeks heated with more than the exertion and, as pride urged you to save face, you pushed yourself to pedal quicker so you could lose the distance between you and them, stopping with a relieved wheeze when you finally arrived at their tail. Although amusement graced their features with a lightness, their ever-present disquietude–try as they might to hide it–shone clear in their eyes for you to see.

“Mom, are you okay?” Came Elisa’s question and, upon removing her cycling sunglasses, you found her brows furrowed.

You only managed to give her a thumbs up as your breath still eluded you, but when it returned, you added, “Yep. Just–just need a minute to catch my breath.”

“Seriously, Mom, you don’t have to push yourself too much.” Elisa placed a gentle hand on your back, rubbing circles as if she was trying to expel the malaise there.

“Ladybug, I appreciate the concern, really, and I may be no athlete but I can do this, thank you very much.”

Elisa raised her brow at you, clearly unconvinced, before she muttered deliberately loud enough for you to hear, her tone excessively dry. “Yeah? At this rate, by the time we get to the beach, the sun will be gone.”

Despite your state, a laugh bubbled from your throat when Alexia flicked Elisa’s arm who yelped dramatically, scaring a couple of birds to flight from a nearby tree, before she grinned and stuck her tongue out at Alexia. 

“Be nice,” Alexia reprimanded but the quirk at the corner of her lips betrayed the seriousness of her tone, clearly amused. 

Elisa grumbled as she rubbed her arm, “I’m not the one who’s making her laugh! If she passes out, it’s on you.” 

Ignoring Elisa’s point, Alexia reached out and rubbed your arm in a soothing manner, speaking softly, “But really, love, if you can’t go on, we’ll just Uber there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m fine.” You grunted, letting a bit of your annoyance bleed in your tone, but you appreciated the thought behind their concern nonetheless. It was just, Alexia and Elisa’s protectiveness exceeded that of Derek’s–a feat in and of itself–and no matter how much you tried to assuage their doubts, they still hovered. And the only way to stop it was to let them know you were vexed. Then you added with a huff, “You two just have such ridiculous stamina. It’s not fair.”

“Alright, as long as you say so.” Alexia said, taking your answer in stride by putting her hands up as if in surrender. But then she smirked, adding in a low tone, “And it’s well earned, my love.”

Your brows raised, both surprised and pleased with the innuendo, before you smirked back and spoke in the same tone as she did. “And so you say.”

The moment was broken when Elisa let out a mixture between a sigh and a groan. 

“No offense, but if you guys are done flirting, could we please get a move on? We’re about to lose daylight.”

At that, the three of you started again, Elisa taking the lead as Alexia fell into pace beside you. Then Alexia turned to you, mischief clear in the gleam in her eyes, and she muttered, “Remind me to tease her the next time Camilo comes over, hm?”

“I heard that!”

Much to Elisa’s delight, the three of you arrived at the beach with just enough time to spare before the sun began to set. You got off your bikes and began to lead it by your sides as the three of you began to walk the length of the shore.

Apart from a handful of people strolling about, the beach was barren today, and the lack of a crowd made the place more peaceful to you. And as buried your toes further into the pleasantly lukewarm sand, as you took in the breeze delivered home by the waves which carried a breath of freshness and a promise of another good day in the morrow, you regarded the sun, in her blazing glory, painting the skies with one last glimpse of her radiance.

Enraptured by the sight, you stopped and rested your bike against your thigh, rummaged through your bag for your camera to capture it. Once done, you turned to Alexia and Elisa who were farther along now, seemingly so immersed in their conversation that they hadn’t noticed you’d lagged behind. You watched them, their figures half bathed in the titian brilliance of the setting sun which made their shadows stretch long along the shoreline, and the sight stirred emotions in your chest that you felt compelled to capture them as they were: Alexia with her arm across Elisa’s back, one hand on Elisa’s broadening shoulder, while both of their bikes rested on their outer legs. As you were looking through the viewfinder, you saw Elisa’s bike fall to its side as Elisa wrapped her arms around Alexia, alarming you at first before you saw the scene as it was. You didn’t dare approach them; the moment, you perceived, was too tender for such an intrusion so you remained where you were, capturing the scene with your camera for safekeeping. 

Shortly after, they walked back towards you in silence. Alexia’s gaze remained casted down as she tried to subtly brush her tears away with the back of her hand but when she caught your gaze, she knew you knew, but instead of asking about it, you only gave her an understanding smile–she’d tell you when she was ready. But Elisa, much as she tried, had always struggled with keeping her countenance free from emotions–a stark contrast to Alexia who, from years of practice, could school her features to faultless stoicism in a moment–and couldn’t deter the somberness from showing on her face for when she smiled at you as if to pacify you, her lips remained crooked with telltale signs of her affliction, chin trembling. The sight tugged at your heart, as it always did whenever you saw any of them this way, so you reached and cupped her cheek, brushing your thumb under her eye to try and soothe her. Elisa closed her eyes at your touch and when she opened them again, the weight in them looked lighter, and you smiled.

As the last traces of the sun sank under the horizon, you loaded your bikes on the rack attached to Elisa’s car which you parked there earlier that day, and Elsia drove up the mountain you just rode down on so she could drop you both off at Alexia’s car. Once there, Elisa helped you unload your bikes from her car and transfer it to the other car, and then it was time for goodbyes.

Alexia had to crane her neck up slightly so she could rest her chin against Elisa’s shoulder as they hugged. Alexia kissed her cheek, then patted her on the back as she said, “Drive safe, love. And don’t be late tomorrow.”

“I will and got it, Coach. I love you.” 

You stepped in next, kissing Elisa, too, on the cheek as she stooped down to wrap her arms around you. 

“We’ll see you tomorrow, ladybug. I love you. Be safe.”

“See you, Mom, and I love you, too.”

With that, the glow from the taillights of Elisa’s car receded into the darkness while the both of you got into Alexia’s car, heading for home. The ride was quiet except from the music that came from the radio, the volume so low it was almost like a hum, as Alexia drove with a steady hand, her face impassive but her eyes disclosed she was anything but serene.

Still, you held your tongue.

You had chipped away at Alexia’s emotional wall over the years you’d known her, enough that she now allowed herself to be vulnerable around you without being prompted to open up, but there were still instances which required patience, moments that asked for time until she was ready to come to you. And this was one of those times.

It didn’t worry you too much, though. The both of you had agreed to never let anything go unsaid–to never let things fester–until the next morning, so you gave her space now to mull things over.

Later that night, as expected, after spending the majority of the evening in her office, she greeted you with a soft murmur of your name, taking your hand and kissing the back of it as she settled on her side of the bed, drawing your attention away from the book you were reading. 

“Are you ready to talk about it now?” You asked softly, putting your book aside on the bedside table, shifting against the pillow you were propped on so you could see her better. The angle of the light casted shadows on her face and made the lines that time etched on her face more prominent, and it made her look more inviting; her earthly beauty made more resplendent.

The question that came was spoken with the faintest of air.

“What do you see when you look at me?”

At first, the question confounded you and for a moment, you were at a loss for words to answer her. But as you continued to regard her with an even more careful eye, you found a silent vulnerability in her eyes, so heartrendingly delicate, a rare look you only saw whenever she talked about–Oh.

Oh, Alexia…

Emotions surged through you, chest tightening as it ached with your lover; as it ached for the pain and grief that will forever live with her–for the love in her that had nowhere to go, permanently in search for a beloved soul.

Gently, you cradled her face in your hands, soaking in every feature, every freckle, every blemish and every line. You carded your fingers through her hair, consoling, then you traced her brow with the pad of your thumb before you kissed her temple and lingered there, then the skin just beneath her eye, then the bridge of her nose, and then the corner of her lips.

“I see… everything that makes you,” you breathed out, voice trembling under the weight of your emotions. “Your mother’s brows and the color of her eyes… the shape of your father’s eyes, his nose, his smile. Their love lives in your skin and it’s all you, Alexia. I see you. Oh, how I see you.”

At your words, Alexia’s face broke: her lips trembled, brows furrowing, while tears streamed down her cheeks. Then she dropped her head to your shoulder, a sob leaving her throat as she clung to you and you held her just as tight.

“I miss him.” Alexia choked out, “God, I miss him so much. It’s been so long and yet it still feels like I only just lost him today.”

Oh, the familiar paroxysms of grief. Most days, you remained untouched by their shadows but the intensity by which they instill the pain of loss when they did get you, how they stretch that empty space in your heart into an abyss filled with teeth, was something else entirely. Agonizing, yes, but it was also a bittersweet repose for it served as a reminder of who loved you and who you loved. 

The moment that followed was spent in silence, apart from the soft stutter of Alexia’s breaths.

“I told Elisa that her parents would be proud of her, that I wish I could meet them and tell them all about how their daughter turned out to be this wonderful person. And you know what she said?” Alexia laughed, teary and voice hoarse. “She told me she wished she could meet Papá but at the same time, she felt like she already had. She told me I look just like him.” 

“You do. And he’d be so proud of you, you know?” You whispered as your own tears fell while you gripped her hand in yours. “And I wish I could’ve met him, too, and Elisa’s.”

Alexia lifted her head so she could look at you, murmuring softly, “And I wished I could’ve met yours, too.”

Through the night, you exchanged whispered stories of the past as you held each other, shedding tears at Alexia’s recollections, laughing at the memories. But how sad it was that loss made your shadows long, all three of you? And how beautiful it was that one’s capacity for love–though at times could stray or waver–could never truly be lost even after a deprivation from the loss of a source? But wasn’t that how lives intertwine? Through shared suffering? Through the bitter grief and the sweetest joy? And wasn’t it where lives intertwined that love bloomed? And in this world of shadows–in these long, seemingly endless nights–warmth and light were all the more precious, and love… Love was both of those things and more: it was an enduring flame, so quintessentially human, an evermore of the sublimest kind.

Love was never lost, you knew this. Life would end but love would always remain; it did long before you, and it would continue on long after you. 

But you were here, in love, loved, and alive. Could you ask for something better than this state of grace?

The answer echoed in clarity in your mind long before Alexia’s comforting warmth and the gentle beat of her heart had lulled you to sleep.

No.

Nothing could ever come close to this. 

Tomorrow came with a splendid radiance, casting everything in a golden tone likened to that of a developed photograph which made the colors vibrant and inviting; the kind that promised that the memories made today would be looked fondly back on in one’s recollections. Waking up to the sight of Alexia in your arms made today all the more brighter for she held the vision to what the world had to offer; all the beauty and warmth in this world began and ended with her.

True to her words, Elisa appeared on the porch first thing in the morning. You opened the door for her, which also revealed her hand intertwined with Camilo's, who looked on devotedly at you daughter as she stepped into Alexia’s embrace, and then yours.

The three of you had prepared most of the things yesterday before you went cycling, but there was still much to do before the hour came for the others to arrive. So, the four of you paired up and went to work. Alexia and Elisa were delegated to setting up outside, while you and Camilo set up inside.

Your attention flitted to the two of them outside as you cooked but before the end of the hour, they’d finish installing the extension roof over the open gazebo, had moved and arranged the tables and chairs, and finished spreading a light blue linen over the tables before laying a strip of folded fabric of a lighter color in the middle. As for you and Camilo, you’d about finished with the arròs negre and the fideuà when Alexia and Elisa came in.

They stepped into the kitchen to grab the plates, glasses, and utensils laid on the counter–but not before Alexia snuck in a sweet kiss on your cheek, a diversion, you thought, so she could steal a spoonful of the fideuà; Elisa, too, grabbed a bite to eat which was fed to her with gentle affection by her lover–which they then arranged on the table.

After a moment of tending to the food, you looked through the opening that gave a view outside and saw the two setting up the party games for the kids. In an act true to their professions, they’d began setting up Elisa’s old folding goal posts, the backyard expansive enough to accommodate them, even sneaking in a couple of juggles and shots after they’d inflated a handful of balls.

(When Alexia caught your eye, she rubbed the back of her neck, putting a hand up in apology–Elisa laughed but she immediately shut her mouth to a bashful smile when your eyes flitted to her–before the both of them returned to their task.)

You watched Camilo in awe as he worked on the coca bread, empanadas, and ensaimadas all at once while you started on the esqueixada. Although you’d seen more of his intricate works, it wasn’t the first time you caught yourself amazed by the skills and work ethics of the aspiring patissier. After the last batch of pastry was put in the oven, the first of your guests arrived.

To your surprise–but not really for you had held enough family gatherings to expect it–you and Alexia’s immediate families came first, more than an hour early, and Elisa was greeted and congratulated as Eli, Alba, your mom, Derek and Robert, and their two-year-old daughter, Olivia, passed the door Elisa had opened for them. 

And in typical fashion, their maternal instincts kicked in and Eli and your mom gathered around the kitchen, looking over the food, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at them as they fussed over you, not with malice, until you playfully shooed them away.

“Honestly, we can hold down the fort here. Right, Camilo?”

Camilo, bless his shy and gentle soul, flushed, darkening the olive complexion of his cheeks, as he just nodded in agreement. 

You stuck your thumb to the direction of the back field and said, “The two outside, however, might need a little help.”

At that, you heard an offended, “Hey!” 

(It was Alexia.)

But your mom, Eli, and Alba proceeded to the back, placating the pouting Alexia with a hug, and they chatted and caught up while they helped Alexia with the grill. 

About half an hour later, Mapi and Ingrid arrived with Anton–their toddler of one and a half years old–asleep in Mapi’s arms. Alexia’d welcomed them in, embracing her old teammates, which roused Anton from his sleep. When Mapi set him down, he blinked around, taking in his surroundings with his big eyes, and when they settled on Olivia, he giggled and stuck his tiny hands out, recognising a familiar, friendly face. 

Olivia and Anton played in the living under Ingrid and Derek’s supervision, the two of them chatting on the couch, while Mapi and Robert came over to check on you and Camilo. They then headed out into the back and shortly after, laughter filtered inside and when you looked through the yawning, Robert was gesturing wildly in the air, and, you believed, he’d started telling one of his intricately conceived comedies to his audience.

When Ingrid and Derek brough Anton and Olivia outside, Eli and your mom–as was the tendency of grandparents presented with children–fussed over the little ones, cooing and awwing at their slightest movement. You stopped what you were doing to take in the warm scene, so distracted were you that you didn’t feel Alexia’s presence until she’d wrapped an arm around your waist as she placed a kiss on your temple.

You sighed, leaning into her touch, but you remembered you’d been in the kitchen for the last couple of hours. So, you pushed her away gently with your shoulder, whining, “Stop, I smell like food.”

To your chagrin, Alexia turned you around with enough force to make you squeal, before she made a show of burrowing her nose in the crook of your neck, breathing in loudly, and the movement tickled a giggle from your lips.

“Alexia!” You smacked her shoulder playfully, still laughing. “Stop, seriously, I smell horrible!”

“Oh, really? I can’t really tell. You smell delicious all the same.” She muttered against your ear, a hand splayed just over the bottom of your right rib. The statement made you flush in spite of yourself, your body too in tune with her wiles and you found yourself stepping closer to her before you remembered where you were.

“Alexia, our mothers are literally right there, don’t start.” You warned her under your breath, glancing where said persons were sitting beneath the shade of the gazebo, doting over the little ones.

“Fine,” sighed Alexia, pouting, but she took the ladle from you anyway, kissing you on the cheek. “Go freshen up and I’ll look after the food.”

“Thank you. I’ll be quick so you can shower before the rest gets here.” 

You pecked her on the lips, grateful, and just when you thought she’d finally stopped with her shenanigans, a mischievous gleam glazed over her eyes and Alexia said with a suggestive half-smile.

“Or I can always join you? You know, to save water and all that.” She spoke it in a smug way, like someone who was pleased at having said the last words. And you were about to reprimand her again until you remembered something. When Alexia got like this, there was only one way to go about it: to play her game. 

So you looked at her, making sure you dropped your lids just enough–the change in your demeanor instantly noticed by the way she stilled, staring at you with wide eyes and bated breath–and you stepped into her space, trailing a finger from her chest to her collarbone before you wrapped your arms loosely around her neck, going on your tiptoes and craning your neck forward until your lips brushed her ear.

“Keep that up and you won’t get any tonight.” You whispered low. You didn’t miss the way she shivered against you and you relished it. “You do want to take me, don’t you?” 

Alexia nodded, as if on autopilot, her figure stiff.

“Okay. So, play nice until I get back, yeah?” 

Alexia croaked out an agreement and, satisfied, you pulled back, taking in Alexia’s appearance, her pupils now blown and a delicious crimson streak had painted her cheeks, lips now slightly parted. With one last peck to her lips, you fled the kitchen. 

When you passed the living room to get to the stairs, you saw Mapi and Derek sitting on the couch, and, upon seeing you, their lips curled into a knowing smirk, and Derek–the jerk–had the audacity to wag his brows at you. 

“I think you broke her.” Mapi wheezed out while Derek clapped a hand on his thigh as he laughed. Your cheeks flushed and you ducked your head as you flew up the stairs.

After immersing yourself in a much needed cold shower, you headed down to the kitchen and relieved Alexia–who was still more than a little dazed when you got back to her– from her kitchen duty with a placating kiss on the cheek so she could freshen up herself. Half an hour later saw you and Camilo, and with a little help from Derek and Alba, finished with moving most of the food to the table outside, just in time as most of your guests arrived.

One minute there were only a handful of people lounging in the backyard, the next the space was lively with music and the sound of amiable company; the chatter from friends and family. The lunch commenced and after the toast for Elisa’s recent signing under Barçelona Femeni’s First Division, Elisa stood to thank everyone for coming. And then, she turned to you and Alexia, who wrapped an arm around your waist, steady and strong.

“To my mom and Coach,” Elisa’s deliberate emphasis drew laughter from everyone, while Alexia raised her brow, lips quirking in amusement at the light jibe.

“To my mom and Mamá,” Elisa corrected herself, and she proceeded with a choked voice, eyes reddening, “I am forever grateful for what you’ve done for me. For all your love, your continued support and comfort, and for believing in me. I love you. I love you so much.” 

You clasped a hand over your own lips in fear that a sob would escape them but tears spilled down your face all the same, and you gripped Alexia’s hand on your hip as your chest filled with love. When you turned to Alexia, her lips were pressed in a thin line, chin trembling, as she tried to keep the tears at bay, her eyes, like yours, shone with pride. 

And so there you were, much later, under the shade of one of the trees in the backyard, nursing a glass of something stronger than champagne–Mojito to be exact–regarding the scene before you with a warmness that, you knew, transcended that of the sun’s.

Elisa was in jovial conversation with her friends and Ingrid–football related, you supposed, by the way Ingrid gestured in the air and the way her juniors were listening attentively; Camilo engaged in what seemed to be an interview by your mom and Eli–for recipes, most likely–while Derek and Lucía–Irene’s wife–looked on them with amused expressions as the both of them talked; Mapi and Robert partook in a game of football as goalkeepers on opposite teams: Mapi, Mateo, and Olivia against Robert, Gabriel–Irene and Lucía’s second son, Mateo’s junior of three years–and Anton; Alexia and Irene, meanwhile, stood to one side, their hands clasped behind their backs, as they stood a vigilant watch over the children, commenting on the game with a light tone, exclaiming and clapping their hands every now, true to their profession. 

The air was filled with glee, painting the atmosphere with a lightness of not only of the physical sense, but also of being that you couldn’t help but reminisce.

Alexia retired from football about two years prior but, as expected, the sport was never really done with her–or her with it. So, the Number Eleven jersey may have been put away, but Coach Alexia Putellas was very much involved with the growth of new Blaugrana bloods, involving herself with–and quite capably–developing and guiding Barça’s youth team. Although she was called to lead the Spanish Women’s National Football Team, after their years of continuous fighting for reform, Alexia rejected the offer for–in her own words–her heart belonged to Barcelona, leaving the responsibility to fall on Irene’s shoulders who had accomplished plenty in the short time she’d managed the team.

You, on the other hand, flourished in sport photography, accompanying Alexia or Elisa in most of their matches as per your contract with the club. But you were still very much part of the firm you and Derek built, larger now, involving yourself in its internal affairs and, if necessary, partaking in the journalistic side of things.

Speaking of, after Derek and Robert moved in together somewhere in your home city–even more so after Olivia was born–he gave you this Barcelona house despite your deep insistence that you’d buy it from him, but not without saying a little side remark, ‘You guys did the nasty there already. Keep it.’

You’d always wondered where home was, but now, as you took in the scene before you, and even more when you beheld the woman walking towards you, you knew, in your heart, where it was.

When she got to you, Alexia took your hand, lifted it, and she twirled you around gently, taking your glass from your other hand and placing it on a nearby surface. And as you stopped, she stepped into the space behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist as the both of you settled to a gentle sway in time with the music. 

“What are you doing back here all by yourself?” She asked beside your ear but not before she pressed a chaste kiss on the side of your head. 

“Just thinking.” You murmured, closing your eyes for a moment to better savor the feel of her body, strong and gentle.

Alexia hummed, you felt the rumble of it from her chest before you heard it right beside your ear, melodic, before she pressed  a kiss on your bare shoulder. “About what, my love?” 

“This. Us.” You lifted one of her hands, brushed your lips over her knuckles. “You.”

“All good things, I hope?”

“With you? Always.”

The both of you swayed and simply watched the scene in silence for a moment. Then a thought occurred to you but as you were about to voice it, Alexia beat you to it. 

“The kids, they grow up so fast.” Alexia said in a wistful tone.

“They do. I still can’t believe Elisa turned 18 this year.”

Alexia sighed, “Oh, to be young again.”

You snickered. “You make it sound like we’re so much older. And it’s not that bad, is it?”

“No, not really.” A pause, then, “But that’s less time left loving you both.”

The softness of her answer wasn’t lost to you and your mind went to the conversation you had just the night before and your heart ached, so full with your love for this woman. You leaned back, enough that you could feel the way her heart beat through her shirt, and you squeezed her hand. 

You turned your head so you could rest your forehead against the line of her jaw, closing your eyes as you sighed, “You know, you say and do these things that make me fall in love with you all over again.”

“Good. I’d like to keep it that way.” Alexia murmured. “And I will never stop loving you. You’re my person, always. I did tell you, didn’t I?”

The memory of white fabric, white petals thrown in a line between the pew chairs, trembling hands; the way the sun light shone on Alexia’s light brown hair and spun gold in them, her hazel eyes glassy and earnest and filled with so much love, and then, her words of promise; of always and forever.

She’d taken your right hand into the open palm of her left, a twin set of silver bands that rested on the fourth finger of each hand glinting in the late afternoon sun, as she pressed further into you, her cheek now resting against your temple. With your other hand, you cradled hers, tracing the coolness of the metal on her finger with your thumb.

Then you whispered, “I love you, Alexia. So much.”

“And I love you, my wife.”

And just like all the times you’d heard it, you shivered all the same.

“I’ll never tire of hearing that.” You admitted as you turned in the embrace, immediately wrapping your arms loosely around Alexia’s neck after, fingers gently playing with her hair as you looked into those resplendent and doting eyes. And you asked just barely above a whisper, “Can you say it again?”

She brushed a strand behind your ear, tracing the line of your brow before her hands settled on your hips, eyes now lidded with even more affection.

“Ask me who I am.” Alexia said in the same tone, leaning close that you could feel the brush of her lips over yours.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Alexia,” she whispered, and then she added with a smile.

“Your wife.”

And then, you kissed her.

[r-riri]

'if i could get out of this place' - red haired shanks

(credits to @strangergraphics-archive for the divider)

word count 1,496

fluff mixed with angst

the glistering water reflected the deepest shames a pirate could have. they sparkled and shimmered with warmth and comfort like a siren begging the man to join her. though he couldn't, he made an oath to his crew, his friends, his chosen family.

this is how she felt staying behind on the ship whilst the men on board disbanded and explored the island that claimed to be the best makers of the richest rum. y/n had no interest in silly rum that could ease her stresses, no, y/n was a woman at heart in a ship of men so instead of drinking her sorrows she looked them dead on with a clear mind.

y/n peered over the sturdy railing into the depths of the shallow water, studying the small fish who wondered under the surface. y/n felt a pit grow in her stomach not at the water but it was a twisting feeling shes only ever felt once during her whole life. that one time was the desperation of begging Gold D. Roger to let her join his crew so she could learn under the greatest pirate known to man. that desperation and willingness to do anything needed to ensure that y/n got the one thing that she believed made her heart pound.

so why was she feeling that again? Nonetheless why was she feeling it while staring at the small yellow fish swimming ignorantly though the warm water that welcomed the fish with encouraging arms. why did she feel sickly at the though of this fish.

"ive happen to grow to like you so you better not jump" a cunningly smooth voice said from behind her, she glanced over her shoulder having gotten used to the men on this ship trying to take the chance at scaring y/n.

"shanks? why am i not surprised" she smirked seeing his laid smile that was strung along his lips like god himself took the time to craft his face until he deemed it was perfection.

shanks trotted the space between them and laid his torso over y/ns back leaning all his weight onto her "omg you disgusting man get your unwashed self off me" y/n laughed between her words wilfully ignoring the heavily deepening feeling down in the pits of her stomach that grew bigger the longer she stayed

"carry me woman" he groaned into y/n's neck to which her eyes rolled in amusement before shrugging him off and he crashed to the ground wheezing, y/n stepped on his torso and over him away from the railing "why must my true love wound me so" he coughed

y/n snickered but never responded and walked into the dinning room in search for a glass of water to maybe drown the green feeling growing inside my body, that grew like a fungal infection.

y/n downed a glass of water but felt the same feeling clutch her lungs squeezing them tightly with desperation to be acknowledged. y/n rubbed their eyes hoping that maybe she may have caught a cold and thats why she may be feeling ill, though deep down she knew exactly what she was feeling, she knew the cause and she knew the solution to what would make this feeling dissipate.

y/n left the kitchen seeing the deck empty, shanks must have left to god knows where, instead she beelined to her own quarters, it may have been small and compacted in comparison to the mens roomy quarters but at least it didn't stink as if 10 dead bodies died in soured milk. instead the compact room laid pictures of people she once met, the memories of the girl and her old life the one she yearns- no no, y/n does not yearn for that life, she is happy sailing the seas, she loves the people. yes she makes comments that they stink, but these people chose her for their family.

even if y/n is happy the books that laid open with messy handwriting of different words that can only exist in the scapes of her mind, the words written were once poisoned with heartbreak and wishing now strung into beauty of the lives she writes for people she can only imagine herself in.

y/n sat on the neatly dressed bed that fit the facade that y/n put on herself each day pretending to not yearn for a life where she could see her name highlighted positively about the books she yearns to be writing and and the stories she yearns to tell to the children who grew the way she did but never got the chance to explain.

y/n pulled out a small grey box from under her bed and uncapped the box revealing 4 letters with four different names written in a neat font from a fancy feathered ink pen,

shanks buggy roger Rayleigh

the four people that she held close during her time upon this ship, each letter contain a scripture about her love and adoration for each of them uniquely dictated to each person and their individual tendencies.

she grabbed a small bag and stuffed it with her brimming books and small nicknacks that she kept from people who gift them to her and laid the letters along the dressed bed and made her escape.

she disembarked from the boat and walked along the coast of the island searching for a unmanned boat to use to leave her second life behind and as she found a small rowboat unmanned she boarded it and soon she sat there writing the end of her book that she lived with her favourite family.

as the sun hid from the people and the moon stood proudly in its place shanks roamed the ship looking for y/n, he had news to tell her, he needed to have a discussion with her but he failed to find her, finally he ventured into unknown territory and he stepped into her room and laid small letters with names, he grasped his letter and he ripped it opened hastily,

he stood there after reading the letter and felt a droplet down his cheek, cold and wet, it was a singular tear, shanks gripped the letter and left the room running off the ship and screamed her name until his voice was bare and dry

that was the day shanks lost someone he deemed to be important to him.

25 years later

y/n laughed as she sighed a copy of 'love lost' a book that she wrote 7 years ago, she smiled at the girl who raved about the book and how it helped her though a moment in her life.

"thanks kid" y/n smiled kindly as she handed the book to the girl again and gave her a hug as the girl asked for "this book meant a lot to me when i first wrote it so i'm glad it helped you" y/n smiled as she slowly bid her goodbyes and left the area and walked along the uneven cobble stone she admired the stone work of this small island that invited me to do a book signing.

"so this is where you've been hiding" a voice cold as ice rang though her ears, this voice shot y/n through the heart as she recognised the owner of the voice, she felt her throat close up at the fear of being confronted of a character from her past life as a pirate, the irony of 25 years ago she had been admiring (more like loathing the freedom of a fish) when shanks approached her. now 25 years later she was admiring stone work when shanks again approached her.

"now you wont even turn to look at me" shanks mused trotting the fine line between the two people "you left without even a goodbye y/n, a letter? a letter was all that had been left in your wake" he leaned down to her level to which y/n finally glanced behind and looked at his missing arm

"see you've made changes" she attempted to joke to which he leaned back

"and you've become an author" he countered back at her "see we've both changed"

"shanks i'm sorry but i had to leave, if i ever left it would have eaten me alive, i'm sure i would have been a author if only i had left that place, and i left and now look at me. i've written 3 books and 2 miniseries' i did what i dreamed to do" y/n explained in a melancholy tonal voice

y/n watched shanks nod "you did what you needed to do, buggy cried his eyes out the crook" he shrugged as if he wasn't also affected "i'm glad your'e smiling the same way you did back then" he wrapped his arm around her "big nerd" he teased

she smiled "stinker" she teased back

taglist - @flusteredmoonn

[star-spacer]

Come Back to Bed with Me

Nicolas Brown x Reader X Worick Arcangelo

Sleeping with Nicolas and Worick is like sleeping between two ovens.

It was muggy again tonight.

In the corner of the room, the old electric fan wheezed away, blowing tepid air across the space and into your cramped, sweltering bed. Its buzzing accompanied the distant sound of nightlife filtering in from your open window and the sounds of the two souls sleeping on either side of you. Worick’s snores to your right almost covered the gentle rasping of Nicolas’s breaths, both of them completely out for the count despite the heat. But considering that both of them were responsible for the excess swelter pressing in on you, you weren’t surprised that they’d be immune to it.

Bastards. How dare they come into your bed, take up your space, and ramp up the temperature with their in-built, biological furnace system? It was your turn with the bed, so it was unfair that you couldn’t even get it to yourself tonight.

‘It was too loud!’ Worick had insisted.

Nicolas had simply hovered behind the blond, too sleepy to even attempt signing anything. A mistake on your end by looking at Worick’s puppy eyes ultimately led you to open the door wider and allow the two of them in.

Though, you guess it was your fault for allowing them to squeeze into bed with you in the first place. There was a perfectly good couch and plenty of floor space you could’ve gone to or made them sleep on if you really had minded. But you didn’t, the weight of their bodies beside you so deeply familiar that sometimes you struggled to fall asleep without them. Though sometimes the heat that you so coveted on colder days turned against you.

You laid still for a few moments, calculating how you’d escape without either Nicolas waking up or Worick latching onto you. After a moment of consideration, you slowly sat up, wiggling to the foot of the bed before slipping off there. The blonde mumbled something and rolled over, arms latching on the pillow you placed there as a victim as you vacated. Sighing in relief, you gave them one last look before tiptoeing out of the room.

It was cooler in the kitchen, but not by much as you fanned yourself with the collar of your oversized shirt (okay, Worick’s shirt, but he couldn’t fit in it anyway). Droplets of water splashed over the rim of your cup as you filled it, soon abandoning the whole thing as it took too long and sticking your hands under it. Cool water filled up your cupped palms, and you ducked down to sip from them before splashing the rest over your face and washing the sweat off.

Cooled down to a satisfying degree, you switched the water off but remained drowsily hunched over the sink, yawning occasionally. Water dripped down your features, but you were too tired to wipe it away. The thought of going back didn’t appeal to you, shuddering at the idea of sweaty skin and sticky sheets.

Your head dipped, eyes slipping closed as you began to doze off right where you stood. The slight sounds of footsteps approached, but you didn’t bother moving, knowing exactly who it was by the sound.

Fingers pinched the side of your cheeks, and you let out a groan as they tugged. “Hey, weirdo.”

“Mmmgrrghh.”

Worick chuckled affectionately, letting go of your face as your hand came up to swat at him. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Was thirsty,” you said. “‘N hot.”

His singular sleep-filled eye scanned your features, seeing how the collar of your shirt and skin was dotted with water. “Looks like you got more water on yourself than anything.”

“Was hot.”

He shook his head in exasperation. “C’mon, it’s late. Let’s go back to bed.”

“Don’ wanna.”

“I’ll open the window.”

“‘S already opened. And the fan’s on.”

You didn’t reply as your eye caught movements from behind Worick, leaning to the side to spy Nicolas stumbling into the room. “Oh, Nicky’s awake.

He signed something, movements sloppy and dragging as you tried to see what he was saying, but couldn’t due to the darkness.

Waving to catch his attention, you said and signed, “Sorry, I can’t really see what you’re saying. It’s dark.”

Nicolas let out a few unintelligible grumbles, a warm hand coming up to grab your wrist and tug you with him. Worick’s arm settled over your shoulders, his weight comforting as he leaned drowsily into you.

“Guys…” you whined, hand hitting Nicolas’s arm while following them back into the bedroom. “It’s too hot in there.”

“We can sleep on the floor,” the blonde suggested, slightly kicking at Nicolas’s calf to get his attention. His arm did leave your shoulders, but hooked around and tugged you closer for him to sign and speak, “It’s cooler down there since our whiny baby can’t handle this heat.”

“Fuck you,” you replied without any heat. “You two are a pair of furnaces.”

Nicolas stopped and let go of your wrist to sign, “Want us to leave?”

“No,” you quickly said. “Let’s just sleep on the floor. I wanna do that.”

Worick nodded. “Alright. And, you, don’t suggest something for somebody else!”

Nicolas blinked slowly, catlike as he moved forward and opened the bedroom door. You went ahead and tugged the blanket off the bed, Nicolas tossing the pillows down, while Worick unplugged the little fan on the table to relocate it on the floor where its wind could reach you. With the three of you working together, a comfortable area was quickly established, and you plopped down in the middle, settling into your spot with a satisfied sigh. Nicolas nudged you over, settling to your right as he set his katana down at the edge of the sleeping spot. Worick flopped down onto your other side, yawning loudly as he scratched the scruff on his chin. Before you could move, he rolled over to throw an arm over you, fingers latching onto Nicolas’s shirt.

“You’re heavy as hell,” you muttered, hand coming up to tug at strands of his hair. You turned to Nicolas to make sure he saw your lips as you asked them. “What were you guys doing up, anyways?”

“You weren’t in bed,” Worick replied simply.

Nicolas’s eyes glinted as they caught the moonlight, the Twilight blinking slowly in a catlike manner. 

You huffed and smiled, wiggling in your spot to find a more comfortable position. Your hand on his side sought out his and you curled your pinky over his. “I see. Sorry, I woke you guys up. I’ll make sure not to be gone for too long next time.”

Worick huffed. “You better.”

On the floor it was slightly cooler, but still not by much. But you didn’t complain as you felt their warmth press in on either side of you. Though none of you said it, it was always this way, the three of you so used to each other’s presence at night that the absence of one was always felt. 

The room fell back into its quiet nighttime ambiance as you all settled, three puzzle pieces clicking into each other.

[gardenialver]

Hide and Seek

synopsis - an intense game of hide and seek in an abandoned factory

pairings - 2012!Leonardo Hamato, Human/Humanoid reader it's kind of unclear but close enough

content - fluff, reader is assumed to be flexible

"Leo," You whispered, trying to soften your panting. He hummed as his eyes narrowed on the small hole that provided view to what was occurring outside. "You're crushing me," You managed to wheeze out.

He hummed again before actually paying attention to you, by that point he finally realized that his plastron was pressed against your abdomen, barely giving you enough space to breathe and your cheek that was smushed against his shoulder.

"Oop sorry," And the two of you shuffled once more until you landed in another awkward position. Your legs were hooked over his right shoulder, his arms beneath your back and your cheeks pressed to each other.

The two of you eyed each other before peering through the gap. "Do you see any movement?" He whispered to you and you shook your head. Before you could mutter a proper response a yelp was head surprising the both of you, causing your position to change again.

"Come on Mikey you got caught fair and square," Casey's voice called out and a groan was heard in the distance, a sigh of relief shared amongst the two of you.

"Leo, I don't think this is working out," You noted again, blinking at the poses the two of you were doing. He nodded, you were essentially sitting on his shell, holding on to the beam above you for support.

A hand placed itself on your back, holding you up and you flinched in surprise, a small thud made you jump once again and when you landed this time your back was against Leo's plastron, the two of you in a somewhat intimate position.

You felt your cheeks warm as you realized you were sitting in his lap or somewhat laying in it, you held onto his biceps and placed your head against his shoulder to try and calm your racing heart.

"Sorry, I know it's a bit uncomfortable," He whispered to you, he was leaning over you and you could feel his breath against your ear and cheek, squeezing your eyes shut you shook your head, your hair tickling his plastron.

Nearing footsteps began to make your heart race even faster and you clutched onto Leo's arms as if you needed them to survive, backing further into his chest you covered your mouth with one hand to calm your breathing and as the footsteps became more distanced you sighed and properly relaxed against him.

Only then was it that you realized his heart was also thumping pretty quickly, "Were you also scared?" You quietly giggled and he swallowed simply nodding as a response. "Aren't you a ninja?" You whispered in a teasing tone, "Don't you do Wushu?" He tried to reply but it sounded more like a question than a comeback.

Another got you was yelled and then Mikey's yelps were heard once again as well as Raphael's grunting. That meant it was just you, Leo, and April left in the game, Donnie was found first as he ended up looking at some abandoned machinery in the factory that still worked.

As the footsteps just about disappeared to where the two of you knew where April was hiding from her scampering earlier. You properly relaxed against Leonardo and he shifted as well.

"So what should we eat tonight?" You asked smugly but for some reason he begun to flush, "Wh-what?" You rose an eyebrow, "We're probably gonna win, what should we choose to eat. What were you thinking?"

He shook his head, "N-nothing, uh udon?" "You ever had dim sum?" He rose a brow, "You're gonna love dim sum." You noted and at the sound of returning footsteps you pressed your body closer to him in an attempt to merge into a smaller figure.

"We've checked the entire floor where are they?" Michelangelo's complaints echoed and the two of you stared at each other with hands over your mouths.

"Uh, have you guys tried looking higher up?" Donnie's voice called out from another room, his foot steps also joined theirs as he got closer, presumably done finding the parts he needed.

Hearing that your eyes widened as you made eye contact and you began to take off your shoes, Leonardo watching you confused until you pushed yourself up, hooking your leg around a ceiling beam and hoisting yourself up.

You carefully walked across the beam, crouching to peer down at them as they began scouring the crevices higher up where you two once were. Scampering across you saw Leo copy you and the two of you hopped onto a window sill.

You started to put your shoes back on but unfortunately you decided today to wear your fancy height sneakers that were a pain to put back on. "Ahh why won't my heel go in," You whisper complained.

"Here let me," Leo took off the shoe and held it back with one hand, "What am I Cinderella?" You teased, but even so your cheeks began to heat up. "Th-thanks," You muttered to him, disappointed in yourself at your lack of confidence.

Just at that moment constant yelling caught you off guard but one of the voices yelling was more feminine which gave you the cue that April had been found.

"LEOOOOOOOO, [NAMEEEEEEEEE] COME OUT! UGH YOU GUYS WON" Michelangelo yelled and peeking over all 5 of them were in fact out together, April begrudgingly following behind.

"Yes!" The two of you cheered quietly. "So dim sum?" Leo asked and you nodded, he placed a kiss to your temple "You gave me your word it was good, let's go." He leapt down and after staring for a moment with your hand to your head you followed him down, your entire body feeling as if it was made of butterflies.

[bri-cheeses]

| Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 855 | This is actually a part 2 to this post that I happened to completely forget about until about thirty minutes ago lol | Hope you enjoy! |

-

Barty watched Evan go, grass being crushed under his feet as he walked away.

Then he whirled back to Regulus and Dorcas, desperate for answers.

“Tell me what just happened,” he demanded.

Dorcas rubbed a hand over her forehead and Regulus scoffed.

“If I had to take a guess, I’d say that these past few years of relentlessly pining for each other finally caught up to you.” Regulus delivered it like a fact, and Barty gaped at him.

“What?” He could feel his mouth hanging open like a dumbstruck goldfish.

Next to Regulus, Dorcas rolled her eyes. “That was pathetic, Crouch,” she said. “For both of you. Merlin knows how we’ve watched you two tiptoe around each other for years now, but I’m scared it’s about to get a hundred times worse.”

Regulus wrinkled his nose at the thought. Barty felt slightly faint. “What do you mean we’ve been tiptoeing around each other for years?”

There was a long-suffering sigh from Regulus. “You like Evan,” he stated plainly, “and Evan likes you. And neither of you will pull your head out of the sand long enough to actually notice that the other likes you back.”

“But I don’t like Evan?”

Dorcas wheezed in surprised laughter.

“What?” she gasped. “Did you just say that? Regulus, tell me he did not just say that.”

“He did just say that,” Regulus said grimly. “Now you see what I’ve been living with for all this time.”

“I am so sorry.”

“Wait, I’m sorry, can we go back? Why is me saying that I don’t like Evan so incredibly hilarious?” Barty crossed his arms in petulance.

“Because,” Dorcas said slowly, as if she were explaining something to a small child, “you’ve liked Evan for years.”

A rush of heat traveled to Barty’s face. “No, I haven’t!”

“Barty,” Regulus interrupted, “how would you describe Evan’s hair?”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it.”

Barty barely had to think about it, but he still frowned while speaking. “Well, it’s this really light blond color, and it’s more of a whitish tint than it is yellow. Except for when the sun lights it from behind, then it looks more like gold.”

He didn’t see the point of this.

Regulus shared an amused look with Dorcas. “Right. And what color is my hair?”

Barty frowned again, confused. “It’s black,” he said.

He looked on in confusion as Dorcas and Regulus burst out laughing.

“Barty, tell me, what’s Evan’s eye color?” Dorcas laughed.

“A really lovely brown, kind of like coffee with a dash of creamer in it.”

“And what’re my eyes like, pray tell?”

“Dark brown?”

It came out like more of a question than he wanted it to.

His friend's laughter had started to gain some attention, and Barty’s face grew warm at being the butt of some joke he didn’t know the punch line to.

“Barty, I want you to say the first word that comes to mind after I finish my next sentence, okay?” Regulus was actually smiling. It was at Barty’s expense, sure, but even then, it was rare enough occasion that it made Barty even more nervous. He nodded anyway and braced himself for Reg’s next words.

“Evan coming out of the bathroom without a shirt on.”

“Merlin,” Barty breathed, then clapped a hand to his mouth. Where had that come from?

Regulus and Dorcas both leveled a pointed stare at him, as if they were waiting for a realization to kick in.

When it did, Barty’s jaw dropped to the ground. He pointed an outraged finger between his two friends. “Why didn’t any of you tell me?!”

“Look,” Dorcas said as she raised her hands in defense, “it’s not our fault that you’re exponentially more dense than any of us expected.”

Regulus nodded his agreement. “We thought you knew.”

“Well, I did not know that, so. Thanks for that,” Barty glowered. Oh, this simple little fact has complicated everything for him.

“I’m done for, aren’t I?” he said miserably.

“Not really,” Dorcas mused.

Barty cut a sharp look towards her. “What do you mean?”

“Do you even remember how we got onto this topic in the first place? The whole “you liking Evan” thing, but also Evan liking you. For even longer than you’ve liked him, if I’m not mistaken.” Dorcas glanced towards Regulus for confirmation. Regulus nodded. He looked slightly pained and more than a little weary of Evan and Barty’s stupidity.

“Wait, really?” Barty questioned. “How do you know?”

“Because I’ve been subject to his constant staring at you with his white-gold hair and coffee eyes for way too long,” Reg muttered.

Barty dropped his head down to his hands, covering the blush that has made its way back to his cheeks. “Merlin, I’m so gone for him, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” Dorcas said at the same time Regulus responded, “Definitely.”

Barty groaned into his hands as Regulus continued, “But if it's any consolation, he’s just as gone for you.”

Barty looked up. “Actually,” he contemplated, “that is a consolation, Reg, thank you.”

Regulus nodded in acknowledgment at the same time a grin started to spread across Barty’s features.

This could be fun.

[g-xix]

Christmas Imagines! | George Clarkey

-Waking up 1st December and deciding that it's time to get the Christmas decorations out.

-You wake George up and whilst he's still huffing and grumbling you make two coffees because you are absolutely BUZZING for the day to begin and want the energy to absolutely power through the day

-George comes downstairs in grey sweats and a beige jumper n u literally have to drag him back upstairs and wrestle the beige off to replace it with a seasonal sweater

-At least after having his coffee he seemed a bit more excited to start the Christmas decorations, asking whether you'd be interested in putting up a snowman with him, made entirely from fake snow just to confuse everyone as to how we had a snowman whilst it hadn't snowed since last year. -He was met with a surprising yes-but-only-if-we-also-make-him-look-like-frosty

-The two of you got to work on the lights firstly though, wrapping fairy lights around the balcony and over every surface in the house which blue-tack could hold it against

-George came back from the junk-room (you'd both assigned a space for just putting random crap in and donned it the "junk room") after fifteen or so minutes holding what looked like a white and red sack. He caught your surprised look but just grinned and attached a connected plug to the wall and said "Just watch this-"

-Five minutes later there was a giant inflatable Santa and snowman in your living room

-The Santa inflatable was also too big for the apartment and thus his head was awkwardly squished up against the roof

-George was proud of it nonetheless.

"Wanna make snowflakes?" You asked after the first break of the day.

"What do you mean?" George asked, brows pinched together in confusion yet eyes wide in interest.

"You know, fold the paper in half then half again and cut them out...?" Your explanation was met with an unchanged, blank look which made you gasp at his obliviousness. "Don't tell me you never did that as a kid?!"

"Have I missed out on something?"

"YES! But no- it's never too late, c'mon, let's do it now-"

-For the next two hours, yourself and George were sat cross legged on the floor folding over your pieces of paper to cut circles out, before cutting more random holes into those to make yourself snowflakes

-You glanced up every so often before looking back down with a warm, glowing smile, having caught a glimpse of George's tongue stuck out whilst he concentrated on making his snowflakes nice and even. Too cute.

-You tried to suspend the paper creations from the ceiling with a piece of string but couldn't reach the ceiling, and just banged your hand when you tried to jump 

-George refused to help the first time you asked for him to just do it... Instead, he held up the phone and recorded you trying to drag a cardboard box over to stand on

-He also burst out laughing as you stepped on it and fell through the box the moment you took your other foot off of the ground, collapsing in a cardboard-heap on the floor which has George genuinely wheezing

"George, at least give me a hand you prat- this is all your fault!" You groaned and rubbed your lower back which had taken the weight of the fall. 

After wiping his tears, George found the kindness within him to extend a hand for you to pull yourself up with. You slapped your palm into his and gripped it with your fingers- pulling yourself up? No; why would you take the cowards way out?

Instead, George fell down with a shriek also- landing on the cardboard box besides you and crumpling to the floor- allowing you your turn to laugh at George's suffering. Like a broken man, he lay groaning atop the cardboard, making tears begin forming at the corners of your eyes with the way he looked so berefted of his prior superiority.

"NO!" George made you let out a shriek as his arms snaked around your waist, preventing you from getting up to grab your phone from the table and snap a picture of him. Rather, you toppled backwards (phone in hand) and landed against George's chest, wiggling and laughing through cries as you told George to "GET OFF!" as his arms held you tightly against his chest, confining you in prison and rendering you unable to take blackmail photos of him.

"NEVER!" He shout-replied, the feeling of his chest vibrating against your back with his words soothing and healing the inner child as you heard the grin in his voice despite all the chaos.

In the end, a truce was called and George removed his arms to allow you to wiggle yourself so that your chest was against his- eyes level with his own as you leaned in and met your smiling lips in a sweet, chaste kiss, only pulling away when you found yourself too unable to form your lips into a kiss from how hard you were grinning.

-By about five o'clock it had already gotten dark and the two of you had broken backs and plans to leave the Christmas tree for the following weekend

-A fireplace with great orange flames danced and licked the coals on the television, the screensaver a mere echo of the warmth you of the Christmas spirit that was exuded from the apartment

-A well deserved lie-down break was taken. Half an hour of lethargic lying down and napping or scrolling through your phone on the bed, together... 

-Whilst George scrolled through TikTok, you rest your head on his body which he humfh-ed at, but threaded a hand through your hair nonetheless, massaging your scalp as you closed your eyes and just let your head lie heavy against his squidge, rocking up and down with each deep breath he took...

-Until you started getting hungry and realised you hadn't eaten til breakfast

-Of course, you could've made an easy and filling meal for dinner, like some pasta or rice... But something about all the Christmas glamour of the day rendered you unable to fixate on anything apart from baking some festive Christmas cookies. 

"I'll get a recipe up- why are you looking at me like that." George dropped his phone down as you shot him a disgusted look.

"It's bloody sugar cookies we're making here, George, you don't need a recipe for that... Just add the ingredients 'til it feels like enough."

"What if you go over...?"

"Then you've got shitty sugar cookies- big deal!?"

George sighed yet let you continue pulling out the flour, eggs, sugar and allsorts from the pantry and fridge.

"You wanna see my party trick?" You looked up from the bowl with a grin,watching as George had degenerated to spinning the kettle. He nodded eagerly, however, coming towards you like a lost puppy and looking down to the bowl- waiting to see something happen.

The sense was knocked out of him, however, as you used his forehead as a surface to crack your egg, before splitting the gooey insides into the bowl with a giggle, turning back to a dazed George who weakly touched his forehead.

"C'mon, it wasn't that hard..." George didn't respond, too busy trying to feel for a lump from the collision against his forehead. "Oh bloody hell, what do you want- kisses to make it better?"

George threw a disgusted look, eliciting a snort from you as you saw it. 

"You wanna beat the eggs for me?"

"Not really."

"Oh please George, I wanna see those arms in action- why go gym every week and get such big sexy arms if you're not even gonna use them to-"

"Okay fine I get the point, I'll do it just so long as you... Stop.... Please."

It was laughable how awkwardly complimenting George could make him do practically anything for you. You knew that he had a love-hate relationship with compliments- on the one hand, always trying to brush them under the rug because they were JUST so awkward... and yet he also loved knowing that he was seen. You'd found the balance on how you could show your boyfriend love everything which you saw in him without smothering him and maybe that was why you two worked so well; alternately, you hated bullshitters, and he only ever gave a compliment if he really, genuinely saw something jaw-dropping.

"This good?" George looked up to ask whether the eggs looked mixed enough. They most certainly did- though you debated telling him that they weren't just to see his triceps in action for longer. 

Damn he has nice muscles, you thought. Even if he was your boyfriend, you'd never stop realising just how good-looking your boyfriend was, every day you spent with him. 

"Yep, that's good. Just some sugar now." 

You gave the instructions and let George do the manual labour, simply watching and giving the occasional input. It was so warm in the kitchen- the preheated oven serving as a delicious radiator and warming your fluffy-pyjama-covered body. Your legs dangled from the countertop as you sat besides the mixing bowl, resisting the urges to dip your finger into the vanilla mix that smelled all too good that it was almost a relief when George inhibited the temptation by shoving the tray of cookie mix into the oven

"Fifteen minutes," He contentedly sighed, slinging a tea towel over his shoulder and wiping his hands. He looked so domestic and wife-y in that moment. You felt yourself grinning uncontrollably at the sweet thought. "What, what are you smiling at...?"

"Nothing," You looked down and tried to shake off your grin to no avail.

"C'mon, I feel like it's something interesting..."

"It's nothing, really, Georgie..."

"Oh yeah?" He rested his arms on either side of your legs on the counter, leaning his weight below you and looking up with two big, indigo eyes which crinkled in the corners as a smile of his own stretched across his face.

"Yeah," You agreed contentedly. "I just love you, Georgie."

He let out a breath of laughter. "I love you too, my lovely." 

You felt privileged in his arms- munching your iced and decorated sugar cookies and watching the first Christmas film of the year snug against his fluffy hoodie. 

"Hey, Georgie?" You whispered, the baileys and cookies leaving you warm in the stomach and heavy on the eyelids.

"Mhm?" He looked down, running a gentle hand through your locks which were across his lap as you rest your head on his thigh. 

"I can't wait to spend Christmas with you."

"Me neither, lovely, me neither."

"Are we going up to yours for Christmas?"

"Yep, and you can meet my sister and my family- and the dog of course... Then boxing day we go over to yours..."

"Yeah, so you can meet my Mum and Dad..."

"I can't wait... Really, genuinely."

You couldn't muster up a reply, all too low on energy, so instead you settled for pressing a kiss against George's thigh which you rest your head on, basking in the headpats which he delivered and cuddling up to his bodily warmth as you felt yourself slipping away and falling asleep in the arms of your no1 boyfriend.

-----

I know the bitches have been PRAYING on some George Clarkey content so here we go! Let the Christmas oneshots begin asw lol, hope you enjoyed the festive content bc spoiler asw, i have more G Clarkey Xmas oneshots 'round the corner!

Hope you enjoyed reading!! Feel free to interact- whether that be a comment, vote or follow! Requests open, feel free to submit what u wanna see... Much love!!

To see more, here's my MASTERLIST

And here's my WATTPAD, with 50+ more oneshots to read

[666writingcafe]

Level Four

Content Warning: unhinged Simeon, degradation/name-calling

Your next challenge is outside. Be sure to stretch beforehand.

After changing into something I can exercise in, I leave my room and head outside. Whoever I'm up against next must be hiding; I can't see them anywhere. I almost think about heading back inside and texting Asmo, but then it dawns on me.

Maybe they're waiting for me to stretch first before making their appearance known. If that's the case, then Asmo's note makes perfect sense.

I spend a few minutes loosening my muscles up. Sure enough, as soon as I'm finished, someone sneaks up behind me and whispers menacingly,

"Start running." My body moves on its own, recognizing the danger it's in. It's not until I've entered the woods behind the manor that my mind catches up and spurs me on. Hearing loud, maniacal laughter echoing through the trees makes me turn my run into a full-on sprint.

Perhaps I would have been better off with a serial killer. At least that guy would have been human, and I'd have a shot of outlasting him in a chase. Now, I'm merely pushing back the inevitable of getting caught, and then who knows what will happen?

Suddenly, something launches at me and tackles me to the ground, knocking the air out of my lungs.

"You're a sick little sheep, you know that?" My eyes widen as I take in Simeon's appearance on top of me. Never in a million years would I have thought that he would participate in something like this, and yet...

"Oh, don't play dumb." His eyes appear to glow angrily in the reduced light of the woods. "You know exactly what you did."

"Can't...breathe..." I wheeze. Quickly, Simeon gets off me, but as soon as I get up and catch my breath, he grabs me from behind and backs up against a tree.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you made it this far into your test. I thought you would have gave into your lust like the little whore that you are." Simeon tightens his grip, causing me to yelp.

I'm sure someone in my position would protest to being called a whore, but I can't argue with the truth. When it comes to supernatural beings, I am a complete and total slut.

And nearly every part of me is screaming at Simeon to treat me like one, right here in these very woods. I know he wants to; his daydreams about me prove as much.

The only sane part of me forces me to stomp on his foot and take off running again. After a moment's hesitation, Simeon follows me close behind.

I nearly pass the note pinned to the tree completely, but it sticks out just enough from the rest of my surroundings that I manage to snatch it in my hands before Simeon catches me again. It takes us a few moments for us to calm down, neither one of us saying anything to the other.

Simeon's the first to break the silence.

"Well, that was fun." I would laugh at his statement, but I'm still a bit winded from all the running I did. I settle on telling him,

"You're weird."

"Never said I was normal."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351

[artstatues]

Tangled, again? - n.i × k.k

wc: 423

pairings: nazeera ibrahim x kenji kishimoto, from shatter me.

synopsis: it's kenji and nazeera's movie date night. unfortunately, it's kenji's movie pick tonight.

warnings: nothing <3 oh a tickle war and a plushie being thrown

a/n: ive been thinking abt making this for daysss and its a bit short but its my first shatter me fic!! so yippeeeeee!

taglist: @never-enough-novels, @reminiscentreader, @kozumesphone, @sophiesonlinediary, @lxvebelle.

@shuhuaspookie, @off-to-the-r4ces, @flowers-for-em, @starrynightsxo, @ant-thebooknerd. ( you didnt ask to be tagged but i think ur a stan so 🤷‍♀️ )

Every friday night was Nazeera and Kenji’s movie date. They’ve never skipped a single one before, it was one of the little things they did to keep their relationship– alive, you could say.

Though unfortunately, tonight’s movie was Kenji’s pick. That means he’ll pick one particular movie: Tangled. The movie was his favorite, it was superior above others, yet Nazeera still didn't get why even after all his explanations.

“Tangled is not a cartoon, Nazeera. It’s a movie about love and independence and charm and–”

“Mhm. Got it.” 

Nazeera placed the popcorn bag into the microwave, then pressed a button before waiting, arms crossed. Kenji snuck up behind her and immediately found refuge in the crook of her neck while his hands wrapped around her waist. Nazeera gave a small, knowing chuckle before the microwave beeped and Kenji removed himself from her. 

Nazeera poured the popcorn into a bowl before finding her way to the couch and plopped down comfortably. Kenji held the TV remote with a grin she knew too well. “Soooo…..what should we watch?” Kenji questioned sarcastically, as if he’d opt for any of Nazeera’s movie recommendations. She was convinced this man had never liked nor watched any other movies besides Tangled before dating her.

“Ah yes, here we go!” Kenji smirked playfully while he clicked the play button on the remote. “Wait–” He ran back to the room, before grabbing a pascal plush he had gotten for Nazeera because he said “it suited her personality” He threw the plushie towards Nazeera’s direction, thinking it’d surprise her. She caught it with the smirk he used when he hit the play button.

“Tangled, again? Seriously Kenji–” Nazeera made an attempt to complain but Kenji cut her off, “Nazeera, it’s the best thing the cinematic universe has made. I’m gonna stick with my choice.” He grinned while an annoyed Nazeera rolled her eyes.

At this point, she’d nearly have every dialogue memorized, but it was worth it to see her boyfriend laughing and smiling. 

After a painful hour and 40 minutes, the TV screen finally turned black as the last of the end credits disappeared. “I think that was the best movie I’ve ever watched.” Kenji jeered sarcastically. “I’m choosing the worst movie possible next week.” Nazeera promised, only for Kenji to tackle her into the sofa and begin tickling her. “Nuh uh.” He smirked while Nazeera was wheezing and writhing against him. “I’m so– sick of Tang- Tangled–” Nazeera managed in between laughs. “Whatever, Pascal.” Kenji playfully rolled his eyes.

[devildom-moss]

Hi there! Hope you’re having an amazing day today! If you can may we please get some headcaons for the obey me brothers with a MC who’s like super funny like outrageously funny? Maybe they don’t show it at first due to the fact that they’re living in a house with 7 demons that would turn them into a hashtag if they breathed the wrong way but slowly start to relax after a while and start showing their talent in making people laugh. Thank you if you decide to do this! 🫶🏾

This took longer than I wanted it to, but I hope you like it!

MC is actually hilarious headcanons

Lucifer

He has a love-hate relationship with your sense of humor. 

On one hand, your ability to make him laugh warms his heart. He knows he can be a bit uptight, but the fact that you’re funny enough to get him to laugh is a comfort – knowing that he can rely on you to lift his spirits with just an off-handed comment that happens to be the funniest thing he has heard all day. 

However, he hates that you once again have power over him. First it was the pact, and now you can just make him laugh in the middle of an important meeting. That would be incredibly embarrassing for him. 

Lucifer suspected that you might have a sense of humor when he overheard a comment you made under your breath about one of his brothers. He had to stifle a chuckle to avoid being caught eavesdropping. 

His suspicions were confirmed when he walked into the common room to investigate the commotion only to find half of his brothers nearly dying of laughter with you in the middle – Asmo was even wheezing. 

He enjoys watching you put a smile on his brothers’ faces.

Mammon

He loves when you make him laugh – especially when he starts laughing so loudly that someone yells at him to shut up. It just makes him crack up even harder. He’ll lock eyes with you after being chastised and then double over in laughter again.

However, Mammon doesn’t want you sharing your jokes with anyone else. The very idea that you could possibly be making anyone else laugh breaks his heart. 

Mammon was probably the first person to realize that you have comedic talent. Something about hanging out alone with him in his room gave you the opportunity and confidence to joke around with him.

He was surprised as he gasped for air. When did you become so funny? 

Whenever you make him laugh, he instinctively leans in closer to you. If you make him laugh enough, he ends up with his head against your shoulder – laughing against your skin with tears in his eyes.

Leviathan 

He’s jealous that you have all the talent. “You’re too OP-ed, MC.”

How can someone be so funny and gorgeous and the best human he has ever known? Levi wishes he could be funny like you. If he could make you laugh the way you can make others laugh, maybe you would be able to love him forever. 

He and Asmo were the next to be exposed to your comedic talent while you, Levi, Asmo, and Mammon were watching a movie in Levi’s room. 

However, it makes it harder for him to game with you because you can throw him off by making him laugh or by flirting with him. If he’s serious about the game, he warns you, “no jokes.”

Levi makes you tell him jokes when he feels anxious outside of the house; it’s hard to panic when he can’t focus on anything else through the laughter.

Satan

Satan appreciates your humor. What he doesn’t appreciate is that he was the last person to experience your funny side.

Between spending a lot of time in the library/places where you’re expected to be quiet, his slightly intimidating personality, and his quick wit that could easily cut you down if you misspoke, it was hard to feel comfortable enough to joke around him.

He was pretty pissed when he walked into the House of Lamentation after a dinner with his acquaintance to find all of his brothers laughing around the dining room table – even Lucifer was covering his mouth and attempting to stifle a laugh. When he asked what was going on and Lucifer glanced in your direction, Satan was surprised that you were the source of their absolute breakdown laughing fit. Even though he was irritated to be the last one, he didn’t ask for the playback and figured that if you were that funny, he’d get his chance eventually.

Once he knows that you’re a comedic genius, he keeps trying to weaponize your humor: encouraging you to break Lucifer during meetings or parties or making you distract his brothers so he can sneak another cat into the house.

When he’s angry, talking to you soothes that rage more than most things. It’s as if his sweet laughter filling a room snuffs out the fire burning under his skin like a charm – like you were charming him.

Asmodeus 

Asmo loves that your humor can brighten a room. You’re such a good time, and he loves spending time with you because he knows you’ll bring a smile to his face. 

Once you are comfortable enough to show your funny side, Asmo loves taking you out to parties. Who else gets to say they came with the funniest, second most beautiful person at the party? 

He’s so proud of loving and being loved by someone who can bring a smile to a room full of demons. As much as he craves being the center of attention, he also adores watching you shine.

One of his favorite things is coming home late from a party with you - the both of you trying to stifle your laughter as you sneak back into his room. When he just collapses into bed with you, his laughter finally free to reverberate off the walls, he feels so much peace and love for you.

How funny you are can make him feel a bit insecure. Asmo knows he’s gorgeous, but he can never be as clever and hilarious as you. What if being beautiful and stylish isn’t enough to keep you around? He will completely disregard his ability to be loving and creative.

Beelzebub

This boy is always busy with his club activities, and he can be a bit dense and hard to joke around with, so he is one of the last to discover your comedic talent. 

He walked into the House of Lamentation to find Asmo and Belphie doubled over on the couch while you were pacing the room and telling them a story about your week (aka putting on a miniature stand-up show). He leaned against the doorframe, quietly admiring you in your element. In that moment, the affection he had for you dug a little deeper into his heart than before.

Beel is delighted to discover that you can make his brothers and loved ones laugh.

Other than the sound of someone working in the kitchen accompanied by the smell of a home-cooked meal, the sound of his brothers laughing feels more like home than anything else. Beel and his brothers laugh more after you start to open up and joke around with them, and as such, he has never been more at peace.

Sometimes when you make Beel laugh (mostly when you’re alone with him), he has a tendency to grab you and pull you closer until you can feel his breath against your skin. His laughter seems to vibrate through your body and his happiness is infectious.

Belphegor

Belphie prides himself on understanding you, so even though Mammon was the first person you joked with and Asmo and Levi got to witness your humor before him, he is still happy that he knew you’d be funny if you were just comfortable enough.

“I knew it,” he admits almost breathlessly. Normally, he might get jealous and possessive, wishing that you had started to show him your funny side first. However, he’s too pleased that you are finally comfortable enough around him to show him another side of yourself.

Like Beel, Belphie likes to hold you when you make him laugh. He won’t let go until you or his brothers pry him off.

Your humor can (occasionally) keep Belphie awake, which can be annoying when he’s exhausted, but he would happily lose a bit of sleep to keep you the way you are.

He won’t admit it, but he appreciates that you can lighten the mood and cheer up his brothers – especially Beel. That said, Belphie would also like you to use your humor to help him come up with better pranks on Lucifer or make up creative nicknames to insult Lucifer with.

Belphie asks you to rename the group chats and nicknames for his contacts in his phone. It can make him chuckle easily – even after a bad day.

I didn't mean to push Friday's post all the way to Sunday - almost Monday. I'm going to try to post 3 requests and/or fics this week to make up for it. I finally have access to my computer again.