#its a nice way to learn how to work around your mistakes

[sherbetstudios]

Pen drawings are pretty much summed up in that sentence yeah.

you got no chances to take back anything you do. It’s all permanent. But that kinda pushes you to impress yourself with what your capable of even with that pressure.

Ah, hello, it’s been a while

Just watched the movieeee :D

I tryharded a concept artsy style, does it show

Hope it came out pretty

Oh but imagine a sketchbook all like this oh my god

[celestialgalaxyglow]

Batfam and Danny, Part 26

At Jason's office at his Gang's Headquarters.

Danny: Nice office.

Jason: Thank you. Now before my governors arrive remember, the Red Hood that they work with is not the Red Hood that works with the Bats. The Red Hood that works with the bats is a wannabe and only wears a simple domino mask, while I am the original Red Hood who wears a helmet that covers my whole head.

Danny (trying not to laugh): And the two Red Hoods have major beef with each other.

Jason (smiling): Yes it's a little dumb, but I can't go around as both a vigilante and a crime lord, I need to keep both of those identities separate.

Danny: But why the same name? You already have two entirely different suits for both Red Hood identities.

Jason: I thought it'd be funny.

Danny: I guess.

Jason: And you're not Phantom, you're my new righthand man, Phantasm, a extraterrestrial child who I adopted.

Danny: I am born of the stars themselves, I have not flesh but am made of stardust, look into my eyes for they hold the universe itself.

Jason (proud dad): Making your skin look like the night sky was a nice touch to hide your identity both as Danny and Phantom, but did you really have to make your face devoid of features except two green voids for eyes? It's a little creepy.

Danny smiled, revealing razor sharp teeth in front of a green void. Jason leaned back, a little scared of his son's flair for the dramatic.

Jason: Case and point... the suit is nice though, I like the sci-fi look.

Danny: Thanks dad.

There's a nock at the door.

Jason (sat up): You may enter.

The doors opened and four goons walked in.

The Goons (happy): Good morning boss!

The four goons walked towards Jason's desk and stood in front of it. Only then did they notice the strange alien child. They looked at Danny, then at Jason, then back at Danny, then finally back at Jason.

Jason: Good morning everyone, I would like you to meet my new righthand man, Phantasm, he is an alien child that I have adopted.

Goon #1: You're a dad?

Jason: Yes.

Goon #2: We have a nephew!

Goon #3: I'm an aunt!

Danny: What...?

Jason (embarrassed): We're all family here, if you wear my bandana you're my family, speaking of here you go.

Jason handed Danny a red bandana with the silhouette of Jason's hood embroidered in the middle with white silk.

Danny: It looks like you.

Jason: That's the idea, that way people know that if you mess with this person, you're messing with the Red Hood's family.

Danny (wrapping the bandana around his neck): It's cute.

Goon #4: It was your dad's idea.

Goon #3: We love it, we may be criminals, but we do crime with style.

Goon #2: By the way welcome to the family, little boss.

Goon #1: "Little boss," that's so cute, can we call you that?

Danny: Sure thing!

Jason (clearing his throat): As sweet as this is, we're here to talk about past month's reports. Sarah, do you mind stating us off?

Sarah "Goon #3": Sure thing boss, the Northern Sector has done well this past month, we were finally able to stop the drug ring that popped up there two months ago, we deposited the ringleaders at Commissioner Gordon's station.

Jason: Good, those bastards should have never showed up there in the first place, we're going to have more diligent in the future.

Sarah: My apologies, the north is my sector, I should have never let that happen.

Jason: It's alright Sarah, we all make mistakes, I wouldn't have made you one of my governors if I wasn't confident in your skills.

Sarah: Thank you.

Jason: Robert, what of the Eastern Sector?

Robert "Goon #1": All is well, the orphanage just opened its new wing, now we can accommodate another hundred kids. The new home ed. classrooms have also finished construction, but we're still looking for teachers properly qualified to teach.

Jason: Let's get working on that, those kids need to learn basic life skills, but remember to do thorough background checks, those kids have been through a lot, they don't need a maniac teaching them how to cook or how to use a circular saw.

Robert: You got it boss.

Jason: Amelia, what of the south?

Amelia "Goon #2": The Southern Sector is doing well, our food bank is still going strong thanks to Wayne Enterprises' weekly food donations. There is one thing however, this week the WE agent overseeing the delivery approached our head of operations for the food bank and said that Mr. Wayne would like to make a direct donation of 100 million dollars so we can expand our current location, as well as open a few more around the city. Elizabeth said she would have to talk to her superiors before accepting such a large monetary donation, the agent is expecting a response by the next delivery in five days.

Jason: How n̵͓̟̏͌i̴͎̎̔͜c̸͍̺͆̔è̷̢ of Mr. Wayne, I should pay him a visit to thank him in person. Amelia you can tell Elizabeth that she can accept Mr. Wayne's g̴̞̲̈́e̷̺͌n̶̞̝̉͒ḛ̷̹̍̀r̵̤͙̅o̶͎͆u̷͎̎s̴̪̒͌ donation. I'll also entrust you with setting up a committee to appropriate those funds, simply show me the names for approval.

Amelia: I'll start drawing up a list.

Jason: Henry, what of the west?

Henry "Goon #4": Uneventful, the arts academy is almost ready to open, the whole placed is furnished, we have staff lined up, final details should only take us a few more weeks, at most a month.

Danny: Arts Academy?

Henry: Hood's Academy for the Arts, a school to teach kids more artistic subjects, painting, pottery, acting, dancing, music, photography, cinematography, poetry, and the boss' favorite writing.

Jason: A well rounded education should allow kids to express their creativity, the Academy will hold classes during the weekends, as well as a summer semester for those who would be interested. We will be able to enroll as many as 5,000 students.

Henry: We made sure to hire a large staff, there will be plenty of teachers to ensure each classroom is a reasonable size, as well as many deans, councilors, library staff, and other members of administration, everything and anything that will make the students' time at the academy as easy and assessable as possible.

Jason: Thank you Henry.

Henry: Sure thing boss!

Jason (standing up): Well if that is all, then we're done here.

Sarah: Boss, wait!

Jason: Yes?

Sarah looked at Amelia.

Amelia: We're throwing a party, to celebrate all the progress we've made this month.

Robert: We know parties aren't your thing, but everyone would be happy to see you attend.

Henry: It'll make everyone's day.

Jason looked unsure about accepting the invitation, he looked over at Danny who was giving him a "please dad, let's go" face.

Jason (sighed): I suppose I can make an appearance.

Sarah, Robert, Amelia, and Henry: Yes!

Robert: You won't regret this boss!

Sarah: I'll run ahead and tell everyone!

Henry: Tonight it's going to be lit!

Amelia: We'll party till dawn!

Sarah, Robert, Amelia, and Henry ran ahead, Jason and Danny followed behind.

Jason: Kid, we will not be able to leave that party till well past dawn, my gang are party animals.

Danny: That's fine, besides you still need to introduce me to the gang at large.

Jason: I suppose that's true.

Danny: Come on dad, relax, you guys did a lot of good this month, you deserve to celebrate.

Jason: Ok, one night, but tomorrow it's back to work.

Danny: You got it!

(Master Post)

[ranmagender]

Art Videos I've Learned From

Here's some art videos that i greatly learned from. i dont work well with things presented in a specific rigid fashion my brain just doesnt respond to it well so here's some that helped me.

Teaching Myself to Draw for 30 days by Leap Tries It

Even more so than the pewdiepie video this video was what made me feel like i could do it myself, he shows like every step of the way both mistakes and victories, its nice.

Pursuing Art at 30 (as a beginner) by Taylor Losch

This one resonated with me because I'm also 30 and while I did draw things as a younger person I gave it up around the time I turned 18 because my mindset was still that if im not instantly good at something i cry. Its a nice video and outlines his pursuit.

What to study to improve your art by bluebiscuits

lays out the fundamentals in an easy to digest manner. what i appreciate is that she lays it out without assumptions of you going for a realistic style which i feel too many art tutorials fall into on youtube

Draw boxes (correctly) to improve your art by pikat

Lays out how drawing boxes helps you be able to draw in perspective and build up your character to make them look less flat. Ive still yet to learn this but ive been doing exercises of drawing boxes so im sure its just a matter of drawing more and more boxes.

Can a beginner ACTUALLY learn how to draw in 30 days? by pikat

she goes over the pewdiepie video and does an experiment with her partner who doesnt really draw and is a math and spreadsheet nerd and idk i thought it was just fun and cute at times. It does also show some pitfalls.

Theres more but I think these are a good place to start, at least they were for me. Your experience may differ, people learn differently but hopefully this will help some

[dropsnectar]

Your Puppy Siren!: When a Siren Gets his Legs

M!Siren x gn!reader

NSFW

You had just moved into your aunt's summer house. It was a lovely place with its own private beach. You had been excited to go on a morning swim when, on one of the rocks by the shore, you found him. He was covered in grey skin and scales that shone sea blue in the sunlight. He scared you at first, causing you to run away, but you had made the mistake of tripping over your own bag before inhaling a mouthful of sand.

This seemed to amuse the creature as it laughed lightly at you. He continued to stay at his rock and raised his hands. He made quiet keening sounds, as if to sooth you. You had to admit it worked. You had never heard such a lovely sound before coming from a creature. Something about the texture of it made your heart flutter.

You kept your distance but tried to speak with him. He didn’t reply, but made gestures to your hair, which you had been growing long lately. He made the gesture again and let out a long beautiful sound. Was he? Complimenting your hair?  

You put your hand to your heart and smiled. He seemed to get the gist because he sang out a low relaxing serenade. The two of you went on like this for an hour. Eventually, you felt brave enough to rummage through your bag for a tuna fish sandwich. Slowly, you made your way towards the creature, showed you ripping off a piece of your sandwich, and taking a bite. You ripped off another piece and handed it to him.

His fingers ghosted around yours as he took the food, his skin was cool. 

He took a hesitant bite, before finishing it off in one go. He seemed to like it as he reached his hand out for more. You moved closer, sitting on the other side of his rock. When you handed him the last piece he put one of his hands on top of yours. He carefully took the sandwich from your fingers and brought it to your lips, gesturing for you to open your mouth. You did so, and the merman warbled gleefully, popping it in. As you chewed, he watched your mouth with interest.

When you had finished the sandwich, he was still humming, his feelings of satisfaction evident by his tones. He moved closer to you and pointed to his mouth, then to you. You wiped your mouth instinctively but he pouted. Carefully, he leaned forward, and pressed his lips to yours. They tasted salty. Your face heated and you put a hand on his scaled shoulder. He slipped a textured tongue into your mouth and you moaned around him, leaning your body flush against him.

You were surprised by the fire of the kiss. You felt needy and desperate almost immediately. There was something about his tongue that felt like fireworks and when he pulled away, how he nudged your forehead with his own was so cute. Except for the static shock that shot through your forehead. That hurt like a bitch.

You swore and shot away from his face, eyes hazy. 

“Don't move too much, you could fall!” A worried voice chirped toward you. You looked up to see the merman leaning over you with concern.

“You… you can talk?” You whispered. He gave you a lopsided grin and hummed a lovely little serenade. After a moment, he continued. “I didn't before. But you gave me enough of your mind for a moment so I could learn! Now I can speak as well as you!”

“Like, Merman magic or something.”

He laughed and pulled you closer to him again. 

“What an adorable thing to say. We do have types of magic, though I will admit, its more of an instinctual sort.”

He leaned toward you and started leaning down, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder. His other hand hand reached around your waist, holding you close to his cool body. Honestly, his scales felt nice under the heat of the sun. You leaned into him as he hummed. 

“You're voice is beautiful Mr. Mermaid.” You mentioned a bit shyly. He beamed at you with eyes that stared a little too hard.

“I'm a Siren actually! But you were close! Mermaids don't come to shore often, so I hope you don't have the misfortune of running into one.”

He started playing with your hair happily. He was very affectionate, this Siren. 

“Aren't Sirens… you know. Supposed to eat people?” You said, somewhat at a whisper. He paused in disbelief for a second and bit his lip, revealing sharp teeth. 

“While you look particularly scrumptious, we don't tend to eat humans. Though if I was traveling with my pod, our song could capture a good shark or a whale that would feed us for quite a while. Not that a perfectly spiteful Siren couldn't do it.” 

He kept answering your questions, the whole time refusing to let his hands leave you. You had to admit, after that kiss, it had really flustered you. But your curiosity won out. Eventually, it grew dark and you told your new… friend? That you would need to head home as it was getting too dark for you to see.

“All this talking and I don't know your name.” 

He looked at you with quirked brows. “You wouldn't be able to pronounced it with your human tongue, but… you can call me Baby. Yes. That will fit perfectly.”

Heat filled your cheeks. “Baby? You should know thats more of an endearement then an actual name…” 

“We have been talking all day. Are we not close to each other now?” He made a dramatic face of disappointment. 

“Please call me Baby. I like that name. I will answer to nothing else.” His tone was final. 

Seeing that he would not budge, you acquiesced. He begged you to come visit him the next day, and you did. In fact, you visited him every chance you got. You had him try different human food, and the two of you had even set up a book reading arrangement. It seemed his language magic also stretched to written language.

You loved listening to his voice. Whether he was warbling or using his human pitch, it always gave you a little pep. 

He continued to glue himself to you, hands always wandering. He'd wrap them around your waist, massage your shoulders, and hold your hand every chance he got. Whenever you called to him, he would look at you pointedly, waiting in earnest until you said what he wanted to hear.

“Baby.” You'd sigh, and he'd keen and be merry for the rest of your conversation. He was so earnest, it was adorable.

Today though, something was different. Summer was starting to transition to fall. You didn't know how but you knew he would have to leave. Your sweet little Siren couldn't stay with you forever.

He finally confirmed this himself.

“The water is getting too cold for me. Ill have to return to my pod soon.” 

“I'll miss you.” You admitted, wrapping your arms around yourself as the cool air swept up.

He looked at you with such longing, his face leaning closer to yours. 

“May I kiss you?”

You paused a moment, eyes staring into his heated gaze and pretty mouth. You nodded, and he pounced on you, crushing his lips to yours. You stayed like that for a while. As you started to moan he started to hum into you, a beautiful noise that filled you with hope and flooded your core.

“Are you putting a spell on me Mr. Mermaid?” You teased, head getting dizzy as he started rubbing the gap between your swim shirt and swim trunks. His mouth ghosted over your neck now, and he was starting to hump at your thigh with his tail his eyes lidded. 

“Thats not my name.” He pouted, pulling down your trunks, airing you out for him and the ocean to see. 

“Baby.” you breathed out, pushing his head down to your most sensitive area, and skimming the place that made you moan best with your fingers. He grinned happily, and started to experiment, his rough fingers drawing circles around you. Eventually, you started to leak. This seemed to surprise Baby. It made sense, as he lived in water.

“It means I feel good.” You admitted bashfully. He experimentally touched the fluid with his finger and brought it up to his mouth. He made a low trilling sound, his eyes changing color. You had never seen that before. He pushed you down onto the sand, and started sucking you down. As you chocked out in pleasure he continued. You felt that familiar live wire feeling, buried beneath all the sensation he was giving you and you knew he was using that magic of his. For what you didn't know. 

He started to sing, the vibrations of it echoing through you and you jerked manically. He kept itup, singing the most beautiful tune. It was full of lust and need and want and as you looked down at him you could see his tail was humping a hole into the sand beneath him. You hoped it felt good, as you could see something had emerged from his tail, a curved, ocean blue cock. You couldn't make out much else as he sucked you down hard again, causing waves of pleasure to crash through you.

“Am I making you feel good?” You could tell he was looking for praise. 

“So good. You've been such a good boy-- ah!” He had chosen that moment to pump two of his slick fingers into you, gently tracing your spongy walls. You jerked some more, feeling you were close.

“Baby, mmm Baby so good.” You drooled out as he experimented with tracing a certain spot inside you, driving you mad. 

He was singing again as you came, his voice making your core even hotter, like it always did.

“Wanna breed you. Can i?” He was looking at you from under his blue grey lashes. You nodded, but frowned, as he was slowing his pumping. You felt your tension recede and you whined out, nose wrinkling.

“Please! Take me!” You finally gave in and his lips quirked up in triumph as he pulled himself up to mount you and thrust inside. 

You both choked out, his groans going from human to inhuman, as he made little chirping and warbling sounds, drool dripping down his chin. He pumped himself into you, slowly at first. Their was a strange sensation and you realized he was growing inside you. Longer, his ridges were more pronounced and it felt divine.

“You feel so-mmmnn.” He was singing again, and this time it had magic to it. It was like some invisible force had invaded your mind, scratching an itch you never knew you had. You groaned out as you came hard around his cock, the feeling so delicious you didn't even know if you were breathing. You were just sensation and pleasure and you knew he was using his magic, he couldn't help it, you just felt so good and that's what sirens did.

You didn't know how you could comprehend all this as you came but you continued to ride out your high. Baby was so sex drunk he was grinning at you as he keened.

“Nothing… has felt… as good as you!” His strokes were  faster now, his eyes rolling in the back of his head. Something was different, but your hazy mind couldn't understand what, you just kept coming. 

And then he came, his seed hot inside you. Baby was so cute, his breath shaky as he leaning over you, finally collapsing onto your body. He was silent now for the first time your whole session.

“I love you.” He said, as easy as if he was stating the weather. Then he sat up and crossed his legs.

His legs?? 

This seemed as much as a surprise to him as you. 

“This is perfect.” He breathed, wiggling his new toes. “Now I’ll never have to be without you again!”

***

Siren magic is so interesting, maybe ill write a part two? 

(Future Nectar here, I did a part 2!)

Part Two

[samkerrworshipper]

bloody hell

arsenal wfc x reader, light kyra cooney-cross x reader

wrote this purely based off my last weekend lol. hope you all enjoy!

warnings: fear of blood, fainting, concussions

There are many pros to being a younger player. You’ve seen a lot less of the ugliness that can come with football. The injuries, the recoveries, pay gaps, poor conditions, all the things that seem to have been previously normalised in women’s football but aren’t really anymore. It doesn’t change how you play or how you live but it does make things easier. You aren’t ignorant to the work or misfortunes that have come before you, it's simply an issue of underexposure to a lot of the issues. You’ve seen some things, the acl pandemic in football has not escaped your teammates, and you’ve seen a variety of other injuries that seem to come and go between opponents and teammates.

You’ve seen some things but you’re still fairly unexposed, it’s both a positive and a negative in its own way. Inexperience is something that any young player hates, including yourself. It’s what sets one player aside from another, your lack of experience as a player and person often isn’t a positive thing. It’s nice though in its own blissful ignorance way where you feel less broken down by it all. You are more lenient when it comes to most things, there is more room for you to make mistakes and learn.

There are some things you probably never want to see or experience, but with sport there isn’t the privilege to pick and choose.

A part of you, you hope, will always be slightly in awe of playing at the Emirates. You weren’t a childhood Arsenal fan, in-fact it’s your biggest secret that you grew up in an all Chelsea house. Though it doesn’t take anything away from the sheer bewilderment you experience every single time you step out on the pitch. The crowd, the atmosphere, the size, the general feeling takes away all the blue roots that run deep in you.

You don’t think any amount of experience in that respect will take the feeling away, you’re fairly certain based off of the way that teammates of yours like Leah and Kim who have been playing for the club for so long you can’t even begin to comprehend still walk out in the same state of amazement as you.

You may be inexperienced but you aren’t lacking in opportunities, having been a starter for Arsenal so far for this whole season as well as for England. No amount of experience can change skill or observation levels.

You play on the field with a level of agility and aggression that just translates to easy goalscoring, you place balls in the back of the net with such ease that for any defensive line it’s impossible.

Today’s been no different, having scored a chip at the 20’ minute mark and an assist to Alessia in the 23’. You don’t think your team is far off of securing a third against a significantly weaker Tottenham side as you all set up for a corner. Kyra’s the one kicking it, and whilst you’re slightly personally biased, there’s a good chance that she’s sending it straight to you, hovering just above the back post.

The ball soars, and it just about makes the distance before Steph and one of the Tottenham players end up midair together. Steph’s head finds the ball, but so does the Tottenham player's head and once the ball ricochets off of the two of them there is nothing to stop their two heads from hitting at a rather concerned angle.

Normally, you’d be hunting for the ball as soon as it hits the ground, desperate to send it somewhere over the line. You rush forward though, not towards the ball but instead towards Steph’s body which is a rather big red lump in the middle of the goal area.

The Tottenham players crowd around their own in a similar fashion, everyone hesitating to touch before the medics arrive. You haven’t seen many head injuries but you’ve done the basic enough medical training to know that until the medics have cleared the neck and c-spine area it’s best to leave a person as they are.

The medics are quick, they always are with neck injuries and everyone clears away to let them work. T

The positive is that Steph is conscious, and whilst she’s clearly foggy, she’s coherent enough.

Once her neck has been cleared and everyone sees that she’s fine the whole team starts to turn towards the sidelines, you gravitate towards Kyra naturally, her arm reaching out for yours at the same time yours reaches for her. You’re about to say something to her about her kick not quite getting to you when your eyes catch onto the Tottenham player.

As everyone from Arsenal has dispersed, it’s left a gap around the Tottenham player. She’s awake too, like Steph and seems to be in a similar condition except for the massive gash on her eyebrow that’s leaking blood all over her face.

As soon as you see it, it’s lights out.

All the air leaves your lungs and everything swims into a big black cloud until there’s nothing more for you to see.

Kyra doesn’t know what’s happening until you're face down in the grass in front of her, you were clumsy, shes assumed you’d just stumbled on a piece of grass or your own cleat. It’s too late for her to try and catch you.

You wake up foggy, and in a much darker room. The first thing you notice is how much your head hurts, every blink sends a throbbing pain straight to your forehead. You have absolutely no awareness of your surroundings and are sure you’re in a fever dream of some sorts when someone talks.

“You’re awake! We thought you’d gone sleeping beauty on us, or at least Kyra thought so.”

You haven’t quite blinked the white away from your vision so you trust your intuition on who you’re conversing with.

“You think out of the two of us I’d be the sleeping beauty? Have you seen how many naps a day she takes?”

Your voice seems to have attracted the attention of somebody besides Steph, who from your very little amounts of spatial awareness seems to be floating somewhere to the left of you. Your memory is patchy, but you can manage to remember something to do with an altercation between her and another player.

“Can you open your eyes fully for me, please?”

You are trying your hardest but even in the dark room every millimetre more you open your head only seems to swim more.

“That’s alright, if it hurts don’t worry about it. Can you tell me where we are right now?”

Rose is your favourite physio, by far, but under the current circumstances her voice sounds like the worst thing you’ve ever heard.

“Emirates?”

Statistically, because you’re in game gear it’s either the Emirates, meadow park or an away venue. Based on the comfort of the physio beds the Emirates seems like a good guess.

“Answer or question? Can you tell me where your head hurts, or when it hurts most?”

It hurts to do anything is the answer you want to give, but the physios are never happy with ambiguity.

“Mostly above my forehead, everything hurts but opening my eyes most.”

Rose’s hands on your temples are completely unwelcome, but warm so you aren’t extremely bothered.

“Can you tell me why your head is hurting?”

Up until this moment you haven’t put much thought into it, thinking hurts, really intensely.

“Saw blood, assume I passed out.”

The laugh you hear from your left makes you want to lean over and smother Steph. Your fear or avoidance towards blood hasn’t been an issue so far, shockingly, but it was always bound to come out at some stage.

“Well that explains a lot, I’d make a fair assumption that your dive into the pitch has given you a good concussion as well. We’ll have to take you to the hospital to get scanned with Steph, you know the drill. Rest up and keep away from blood, huh?”

It was an issue that affected your life so rarely that you often forget about it entirely. Every other body fluid you were fine with, your own blood didn’t bother you, yet when it came to other people you just… dropped.

“Bloody hell mate.”

Steph clearly thought she was hilarious.

“You aren’t funny.”

Steph was still pissing herself from her spot next to you, in any other situation you’d probably be laughing with her but the way every single chuckle made your ears ring took away from the feeling.

You couldn’t even open your eyes and yet you swore you could feel the room spinning, like the bed you were lying on was secretly spinning in big circles.

“I-I think I’m going to vomit.”

Steph’s laughing seized almost immediately, a little bit of your nausea faded but not enough for the risk of vomit to fade.

Very quickly a vomit bag was thrust into your hands and within a few seconds the protein bar and lucozade you’d had before the game were being emptied out of you.

You weren’t supposed to be the injured one in this situation, yet you felt Steph seat herself beside you, rubbing your back as you gagged on the taste of your own bile.

“You picked the right line of work, imagine you wanted to be a doctor and found out about all of this during your first surgery or something, face planted into a person's stomach or brain.”

Steph’s joke fell on a silent crowd, your nausea subsiding and your body slumping against half of Steph’s body and the rest again the physio bed.

“God, Kyra playing nurse. That is going to be a sight, you think blood nearly killed you? Imagine Kyra having to be a responsible adult for the first time in her life. I’ll be praying for you.”

You try not to think about your girlfriend's inability to cook, clean and really function as an adult without you helping her out. It’s too much for your already pounding head.

“What was the end score?”

You can’t remember what stage you were hurt at exactly, but you assume the match must be over.

“Last time I checked we were 3-0 up going into the second half but Rose took my phone off of me as soon as we came down here. I’d say it should be over in less than half an hour.”

Steph took your vomit bag from you and threw it in the bed, helping you as best she could to relax against the bed before moving to her own. Her concussion was very minor considering the collision, but she still had a headache.

“No sleeping, okay? I can be quieter but I can’t have you dying on me. Imagine the tombstone, death by blood exposure.”

Normally you have a pretty good sense of humour, but it’s all lost with the blinding headache you can’t remotely shake.

“Steph if you speak again I’m going to reach over and strangle you.”

It’s no empty threat and Steph seems to get the message because the room falls silent and the only sound you can hear is the whirring of some kind of machine somewhere.

Even if you wanted to sleep, you can’t. Your head feels like it’s going to explode and also shrink into itself all at the same time and it’s possibly the worst sensation you’ve ever experienced. Mixed with the drowsiness, nausea, fatigue, spinning and pain every time you try to open your eyes you feel downright miserable.

You assume it’s just Rose returning when the door to the room opens, she’s come in and out a few times since Steph has stopped talking, checking to see if you feel any better or worse. You stick with the same answer every time of feeling the same.

When a hand gently rests on your ankle though, and it doesn’t quite feel like Rose’s you try your very hardest to open your eyes. You manage to get them open enough to a small squint and make out a blob of a person in all red, that’s about it.

“Hey baby, keep your eyes closed, it’s okay.”

Kyra’s voice instantly relaxes you, some of the tension in your legs diffusing as her hand moves to rest on your shin.

“Ky?”

The hand squeezes lightly and none of your physical symptoms truly fade but you swear you feel ten times better.

“Yeah it’s me and Cait and Katie. Wanted to make sure you didn’t die on us.”

The underlying worry doesn’t surpass you, it had to be scary for Kyra having her partner eat shit right in front of her out of nowhere. Your mind immediately goes to Friad and her accident last season, whilst you don’t have anything in common with it, you can remember your own fear when that happened and you weren’t particularly close to Frida.

“Your lovergirl has a fear of blood, apparently just drops at the sight of it, as we all saw.”

Your eyes clench as your hear Katie drop into a fit of giggles from wherever she is in the room, it booms and makes everything ten times worse.

“Fear of blood? Yer an athlete, we see blood everyday mate, need some thicker skin.”

Kyra’s hand left your leg for a moment, and in that moment it was impossible to hear the dull sound of somebody hitting somebody else.

“Fear of blood? Baby why didn’t you tell me? How didn’t I notice?”

Kyra’s hand moves up to your arm, nestling itself on top of your bicep. You try to not flinch away from the cold tinge they have.

“Never came up.”

Katie’s still laughing, the noise of it makes your head spin.

“Yer telling me that every time you get a papercut or scratch yerself on something, you just pass out? God aprils fools day has just gotten so much better. I think we need to test the effectiveness of this.”

You hear Caitlin giving Katie a good telling off and it makes you feel better, if not for your head but because you know that Cait wears the pants in the whole situation.

“It’s only other people's blood, not my own. It’s worse when I’m not expecting it.”

You try to relax as much as you can, knowing subconsciously that your head will thank you for it.

“Shoulda become a doctor, you’re in the wrong career if you ask me.”

Katie sets Steph off, and when you’d finally thought you’d gotten back to a place of peace you’re sorely mistaken.

“That���s what I said!”

You want noise cancelling headphones right now, or to pass out again.

“Wait, what about last month when we… when I was on-.”

The laughter seizes and you curse Kyra’s obliviousness with every fibre of your being. If you weren’t so touchy you’d probably find it funny, but right now it just serves as another topic of torture.

“EW- closing my ears closing my ears.”

“You guys are still children! Children!.”

“There are just some things that you keep to yerselves.”

[lqveharrington]

Bus Stop | R.L.

summary: both you and remus miss the bus during a rain shower.

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

includes: fluff, strangers being cute, cursing

a/n: i seriously need to finish my coriolanus series help 😭

As a meteorologist for the local news media, you knew what the weather was going to look like everyday. In fact, plenty of people tuned in to hear the forecast just from you. It was something you enjoyed doing, you liked helping people out for the smallest things. You could predict whether or not the sun would be shining to the point where ice cream would melt in an instant, or if it would snow so hard that the roads were to icy to drive in.

It felt nice to be helpful and appreciated in a community you’ve learned to love.

But every once in a while, the computer system the station owned would make small mistakes. There would be times where it predicted hard rain, but instead ended in light rain with little to no clouds. Of course, it was something so rare that you always disregarded it and moved on.

Except for today.

You were standing underneath the thinnest awning as rain pellets fell harshly from the thundering sky. You missed the bus for the first time in years. It was stupidly coincidental that the day the computer system decided not to work was the day you missed the bus. It had shown that only light rain would be coming to your area.

Wrong.

So now you were trapped in a small space until a bus appeared or the rain let up, which was unlikely.

The wind blew harshly on your skin and made the rain splash everywhere. You were getting drenched by the minute and all you could do was wait. Your Mary Jane’s were completely ruined and your tote bag completely soaked, which incased your book and notepad. It was all destroyed.

A frown made its way to your face. You couldn’t even tell if tears were streaming down your face or if it was the rain as you felt your chest constrict. But even the universe had its limits and thought it was cruel to have you all alone in the storm. So it sent you one companion who happened to miss the bus as well.

A man ran over to where you were, his eyes wide in frustration and annoyance. You watched him run underneath the awning with his jacket over his head, which did little as he was completely soaked from head to toe.

He gave you a slight nod and looked out toward the obstructed street view, “How long have you been waiting?”

You blink in confusion before realizing he was talking to you. Heat covered your neck when he gave you an amused grin as he ran his fingers through his wet hair in attempts to squeeze the water out.

“Oh! Uhm, maybe a couple of minutes? Only two buses come down this way.” You look down to your shoes, the puddle underneath rising toward your ankle, although you feet were already drenched.

He sighed and leaned his head back on the brick wall behind, rubbing his palms in his eyes. “Fuck, okay.”

After a few seconds, an awkward silence took over despite the heavy rainfall. It wasn't like you intended for it to get awkward, but standing in a tight space with a man you never met really set off tension.

Yours eyes flickered from the rain puddles to the man beside you. Clearing your throat, you began to speak, but at the same time, the man spoke as well.

“How—“

“What—“ Your eyes widen and the previous heat creeped up to your cheeks. “Sorry, go ahead.”

“No, that’s quite alright. I was just trying to make small talk.” The man shrugged and sent you a small smile.

You grinned back and fiddled with the strap of your tote back. “So was I.”

Despite the attempt, another silence took over. This time, it was less awkward. The rain continued to pelt down and the sun began it's slow descent down when you decided to strike a conversation again.

“What made you late?”

He looked over toward you, his mind zoned out from the pattering of the rain. “Mm?”

“To the stop, I mean." You smile sheepishly and waved your hand around. "I got here just as the bus left, but you were minutes behind.”

“Ah,” He nodded and pushed his hair back again. “My car is at the mechanics and I wasn’t sure when the coaches come around. I guess I was a little off.”

“Just a little.” You pinch your finger together as a small laugh falls from your lips.

A comfortable silence took over this time. You had yet to know the man’s name, but you knew that he was alright to be around for the time being. Who knows if there were weird people out in the rain coming to get you.

The rain only grew harder, causing you and the mystery man to push closer in hopes of staying out of the harsh weather and not freeze to death. Well, more so than already.

“I feel like I’ve seen you before.” The man spoke and glanced at you to see an amused glint in your eyes.

“Yeah?”

He squinted his eyes before snapping his fingers in recognition. “You’re the meteorologist on channel 8.”

You laugh softly and place your hands on your hips, smiling like you would on television. “The one and only.”

“I didn’t think I would meet a celebrity waiting for the coach.” The man chuckled and ended with a content smile, shaking his head at the fact he did meet someone everyone loved.

“Where do you work?” You ask out of the blue, catching him off guard. “It’s only right, you know my place of work.”

He raised his brows like it was the most obvious thing. “You’re on the tele.”

“Same difference.”

You both stared at each other as if you were in a silent competition before you looked away, clearing your throat. Sensing your fraction of discomfort, the man answered your question.

“I work down at the bookstore on King’s street. It’s beside the café.” He gestured toward where he came from and smiled when your eyes lit up.

“Oh! My friend Lily works down there. I love that place, they have everything I ever need in life.” You grin at the mention of your favorite store downtown, but purse your lips when you remember what exactly you had in your tote. “But, one of the books is kind of destroyed in my bag.”

"You destroyed public property?"

"Not on purpose!" You defend yourself and put a hand up, the small smile on your lips showing your true emotion. "That's not funny."

"It was."

You roll your eyes in an amused manner and settle into a short silence. Time felt like it was going so fast yet so slow, and you weren’t exactly sure what that meant. Picking at your nails, you ask him another question he hopefully knew the answer to.

"Since you work with Lily, do you know a guy named Remus? She said he worked there with her, she wants me to meet him."

He raised a singular brow at you and tucked his hands under his arms as the wind blew harder. "I may or may not know. Why?"

"She said we would hit it off right away." You shrug and shiver, causing your body to instinctively pull closer to the man beside you for warmth. "And every time she wants me to go over to meet him, I'm really busy with work."

He hummed and looked down at you, meeting your eyes with pure joy and mischief. "I think that you would hit it off right away."

"You think so?" You murmur, glancing down at his lips for a split second before looking back up to his eyes in shock at your own action.

"Oh, definitely. You'll have the time of your life with his horrid humor." He chuckled as you huffed a breath out, the heat from your mouth shown in front of you.

"As bad as you laughing at me for accidently destroying a library book?"

"Precisely." The man nodded in agreement, pulling you further back into the stop as a car drove by without slowing down. "How long have you been a meteorologist?"

"Oh gosh," You bite your lip in thought and go back to your first time actually working as a meteorologist. "Maybe two years officially? I studied a lot in college for it and was given an internship with NASA back in the states for my last year."

His lips turned-down into a smile, not that surprised by the fact with how much you loved your job. "I'm impressed."

"Thank you." You tilt your head down and look down at the ever growing puddle, sighing at the sight. "Although, sometimes I wish I had chosen a job back in the states rather than come back here."

"Why is that?"

"The weather here is mostly the same all year round. There's nothing too interesting about it." You gesture toward the rain.

As you pointed out the harsh rain you would always report on, the bus lights finally appeared through the thick fog. You shut your eyes in thanks before holding tightly onto your tote. But before the bus got to your stop, you decided to speak once more. Maybe, just maybe, the mystery man was alright.

"I never got your name."

He turned his head to you and shrugged, his brown hair splashing you with water. "Technically, I didn't get yours either."

"Doesn't count, I'm on television." You quip as the bus comes to a stop, but the look on the man’s face caught you off guard. "What is it? Why are you smiling weirdly?"

"I'm Remus Lupin." He struck his hand out and kissed your knuckles. "And it was a pleasure to hit it off with you."

"You're joking." You gape at the mysterious man who you could now identify as the same Remus Lily was talking about. "You're incorrigible."

"And your coach is going to leave you behind soon." He tilted his head toward the flashing headlights of the bus.

You purse your lips and quickly get your body on the bus. You paid your bill and turned around to see him still standing at the stop. Furrowing your brows, you call out to him only to be interrupted.

“Will I expect to see you in the bookstore soon?” He cupped his hands around his mouth to enhance his voice over the heavy rainfall.

A small smile graced your lips as you responded. “Maybe!”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[animeshotsh]

Housing | Viktor x Jayce x Kid!Reader | Arcane ¤

Summary: Moving out its a pain.

Warnings: PLATONIC - Fluff - SFW - Grammar mistakes - More Viktor than Jayce - OFF CANON EVENTS - GN reader - Reader is nicknamed Spark -

Jayce groaned as he lifted the last box and left it inside the new living room. He could see the mess and was feeling tired already.

It was luck that Vi and Caitlyn were able to get off from work and help him and Viktor move.

When you met Vi you were scared of her, but Vi saw you as how her sister used to be. So she adapted soon to you. And in no time she had you in her arms.

Caitlyn was happy for her friend, nodding at the house and how you were taking Viktor's hand to show him around (even if Viktor himself did pick the house). Jayce just blushed but smiled feeling his heart bump quickly.

As night came the only two rooms that were ready were the bedrooms. The room destinated for home lab had all the things inside and was secured with a key. And the last room was left with half empy boxes.

The five of you were now eating some takeout, Vi, Caitlyn and Jayce did most of the talk while Viktor made sure you did not choke eating the delicious food.

"So, when its the weeding then?" Vi asked joking getting a caught from Jayce and an annoyed look from Viktor "I mean, you two have a kid already"

"Mom and dad married?" You asked now getting a soft pet from Caitlyn

"They are so cute" She said cleaning around your mouth

"They are" Viktor responded ignoring Vi question as she let herself fall on the chair in fake hurt.

~~~~~~~~~

The next days passed by moving boxes, getting rooms ready and just making the house feel like a home.

Your room was Jayce and Viktor first task at hand. It was big enought so you could also play there. When deciding the wall color Jayce said blue and Viktor said how it would make the room look sad.

Then Jayce suggested painting above a blue base, different shapes from animals to some of their own equations on the wall. Viktor had give it a long thought then decided it was a good idea.

Of course you also helped, adding your printed hand on the wall then asking Viktor and Jayce for the same.

It was a beautiful piece of art full of love.

They also decided to adds some lights to turn during the night in different shapes.

Moving to their own room was easier, they decided that a plain white wall was alright.

The storage room was full with boxes and things they needed to sort out.

Their home lab was a room secured with a key. So no, you could not enter on your own. They had smaller things there, but a big board and lots of notes and pappers filled the room within the first week. Jayce even decided to use the window to write down equations.

Viktor learned to love this home lab. He could leave his notes there and take them back at the Academy, was able to enjoy a nice breakfast while working there. And he could pass a good amount of time of the morning with Jayce and you.

He never once thought food could teast better when being in good company, no. His brain commanded his way of seeing life, even with his mother and later Jayce food was the same. And he did love both of them dearly.

But with you, running around, showing your draws, how you were slowly learning the alphabhet or how you would ask one of them something from a book they had gifted you.

He wanted to get his flavor sense checked, because why did now his coffee teast better? Why were these coockies so sweet? Was because you had fed him one? Why did dinner feel warmer and like a small party each night?

No, his mind could not understand. But he was happy and so were Jayce and You, so for him that was enought.

[sansaorgana]

— DAUGHTER OF THE MOON (III)

PART ONE || PART TWO

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader (Celebrimbor's Daughter)

SUMMARY — Lord Celebrimbor's daughter finally learns the truth about her betrothed. She might be the only one who can save her father and Eregion if she agrees to give Sauron what he wants.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Reader's appearance is not described and her mother comes from a group of Elves that I came up with myself for the sake of this fic and its plot – the Moon Elves. This is the last part of this fic! 😊 As I said, it was supposed to be a one shot but it turned out quite long, so I decided to post it in three chapters. 💗 The ending is kinda open... 👀

WARNINGS — Reader's mother is dead ("madness" + suicide), blood magic, violence, domestic abuse (Sauron is not nice to his fiancée), manipulation, gaslighting

WORD COUNT — 6,450

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DAUGHTER OF THE MOON (III)

Corruption. It was the thing that Lady (Y/N) feared the most. Therefore, when she heard about the possibility of The Seven being condemned because of her father’s lie to the High King, she was absolutely terrified. Especially after learning “the truth” from her beloved Annatar about her father’s condition.

He watched with a smirk, overhearing her conversations with Celebrimbor. Her pleas and sobs as she begged him to finish the Rings. But – just as she had promised – not even once she did reveal that she knew about his worrying state. And even though Annatar had mentioned that it was crafting the Rings that had caused Celebrimbor’s mind to go astray, his daughter feared the darkness and corruption so badly that it seemed to escape her mind. The only thing that mattered to her was to convince her father to help Annatar in making the Rings.

She was even using the same tactics as her beloved – something he noticed with a huge amount of satisfaction as he listened to her praising her father’s craft and saying that he would soon become known as the greatest of the Elves in history. How she sweetly and innocently lured him into the trap Annatar had prepared.

And so she succeeded, standing proudly by her betrothed’s side with her arm around his, as they were surrounded by the Elven smiths and watched Celebrimbor give a speech.

“There is agency uncanny in the heart of stone and ore,” he started. “Even when a work is yet within the artist's bosom, it begins to…” He hesitated and made a disappointed face. “...disobey him. We have failed. Every one of us,” he added more harshly now and Annatar could feel (Y/N)’s hands squeezing his arm tighter as she was not suspecting her father to grow so bitter and cold.

“The designs were carried out to the most exquisite detail, my Lord,” Mirdania dared to interrupt him.

“Were they?” Celebrimbor asked her in a challenging tone. “Every last hammer stroke done to perfection?” He began to take steps forward, approaching her and the other smiths. “Or did hubris and sloth come together to dull your attention?!” He raised his voice and a short silence occurred.

The tension was heavy in the forge and Annatar felt (Y/N)’s fingernails digging into his flesh as she kept squeezing his arm. Her father’s anger was not aimed at her but it still pained her to see him like this – like he had never been before.

“We must atone for our mistakes in the only way we can by completing the Rings together,” Celebrimbor said again, a bit softer this time, as he looked upon Annatar’s face. “The Nine must do far more than bring aid to men, they must bring balance to the entire project. They must draw strength from The Three and somehow…,” he hesitated, uncomfortably, “redeem The Seven,” he looked around, avoiding everyone’s gaze. “They must redeem us all. We shall work night and day,” his tone changed once again and grew harsher. “New designs. New alloys. A new process. I will be with you at every turn and any of you who offers so much as a hair’s breadth less than his utmost effort is a… A smith of Eregion no longer,” he threatened, even though he sounded ashamed of his own vicious words despite the gentle smile. “Have I made myself plain?”

“Yes, my lord,” the smiths nodded their heads quietly.

“It starts now,” Celebrimbor nodded nervously and walked away as fast as possible to go up to his study, walking past Annatar and (Y/N) but avoiding their gaze.

(Y/N) left her betrothed’s side and followed her father to his study. Annatar was torn whether he should join them or to coax the smiths. He eventually decided to do the other thing since he already trusted (Y/N) enough to leave her alone with Celebrimbor for a moment, meanwhile the smiths of Eregion kept chatting quietly about their Lord’s behaviour.

“Father?” (Y/N) approached Celebrimbor who was sitting on the chair and trembling, hiding his face in his hands. Her heart was full of pain for him and she swallowed thickly when she placed her hands on his shoulders as he flinched a little. “Father, perhaps I have been pushing you too hard to agree to make The Nine. I, too, want the redemption of The Seven for I want this craft to be the absolute mastery of your abilities and achievements as much as I want for the whole Middle-earth to admire you…” She confessed gently as she crouched down next to him and removed his hands softly from his face. “But father, please, the way you behave… is worrying to say the least,” she whispered.

“The way I behave, my sweet child?” He blinked a few times at her and she tilted her head, confused.

“What are you talking about?” She breathed out and a short silence occurred, in which Annatar’s voice calming down the smiths reached them from afar.

“Are you sure about wanting to marry this man?” Celebrimbor lowered his voice, squeezing his daughter’s wrist when she wanted to move away, visibly outraged by his question.

“How can you ask me that?! The love between Lord Annatar and I is of the purest and most noble kinds…” Her eyes filled with tears. “I have never thought to ever meet a man like him but he is everything I have ever dreamt of and I am the luckiest of all maidens that he wishes to leave his service to the Valar for me.”

Celebrimbor was defeated. He let his daughter's hand go and he watched her tears with the pain in his heart. He hated to make her cry and to worry her but he was concerned about her as well.

However, she was already far too bewitched by Annatar’s charm.

Lady (Y/N) was crafting a beautiful headpiece as she focused on shaping the sapphires. The day was warm and quite calm and she enjoyed her silence and her solitude as yet another masterpiece was coming to life because of the work of her hands.

A light knock upon the doors made her look up with a furrowed brow.

“Come in,” she ordered and watched the smith Mirdania walking inside.

Mirdania’s eyes were exhausted, her dress and face covered in sweat and dirt from the long days of excessive work in the forge. She bowed down in front of Lady (Y/N) and opened her mouth, hesitating before speaking.

“What is it?” (Y/N) asked her as she stopped paying attention and laid her eyes back on the headpiece in front of her.

“My Lady, I am terribly sorry for bothering you but this is about your father, Lord Celebrimbor…” Mirdania started.

“Yes?” (Y/N) still did not lay her eyes on the woman as her eyes squinted when she picked up a thin chisel.

“The way he is behaving… He has never been like this. I do not mean his strive for perfection but the measures he is taking… We do not feel safe around him anymore, my Lady,” Mirdania blushed and looked away because (Y/N) glanced at her at that very moment.

“I… I do not know what to say,” (Y/N) confessed, putting the chisel down. “I do not know how to comfort you… But you ought to endure for he must finish The Nine,” she stood up to approach Mirdania and put her hands around the smith’s arms. “He must.”

Mirdania tried to protest somehow as her mouth opened and her head shook but that was when the doors opened once more – this time without any knocking – and Lord Annatar stood in them.

He walked differently these days; more confidently. The way he stood there was taking up the whole door frame and the way he glanced at the women had a hint of contempt and suspicion in his eyes. His robes were no longer grey and humble but the most exquisite – black and gold. And some of his hair strands were tied in a whimsical bow to avoid getting into his eyes and interrupting his work.

Some were saying that now, when Lord Celebrimbor was so busy with his craft and Annatar was engaged to his daughter, he was carrying himself as the Lord Regent of Eregion in a way. His position changed, of course, as he was now known as Lady (Y/N)’s betrothed and Lord Celebrimbor’s most trusted friend.

“My love, what is it?” Lady (Y/N) asked as she abandoned Mirdania’s side immediately to approach him.

She did not mind his change – in fact, he made her believe that it was her who had encouraged it, convincing him that the new robes would make him seem more respectful amongst the people of Eregion and that he had proved his humility enough.

Annatar gave Mirdania a scolding look before laying his soft eyes upon Lady (Y/N).

“Your father’s people demand an audience but he refuses to see them, too occupied with his craft,” he announced.

“That is so unlike him,” (Y/N) shook her head with concern.

“He wants you and I to carry on with his responsibilities to the city,” Annatar informed her.

“Oh, well, then…” She hesitated. “Well, then I must… I shall do everything to help my father,” she nodded her head, eagerly. “Mirdania,” she turned around to look at the woman and the smith bowed her head down before hurrying out of Lady (Y/N)’s chambers.

(Y/N) and Annatar walked downstairs and approached the people gathered by the doors, surprised to see them instead of their Lord. Annatar clasped his hands behind his back and looked down at his betrothed as she nodded at him, letting him speak because she knew that he was far better with words than she was.

“The greatest of Elven smiths is consumed by his work,” Annatar announced to the people of Eregion. “He asks that Lady (Y/N) and I handle all matters of administration in his stead,” he bowed slightly at her before looking back at them. “Now, what seems to be at issue?”

One of the guards looked at Commander Malendrol with hesitation.

“Show them,” he said.

“Show us what?” Annatar asked and the guards pointed in the direction they wanted him and Lady (Y/N) to go in.

And so they followed the guards and (Y/N) was full of anxiety as she kept glancing up at her betrothed, wondering how he could remain so calm when everything seemed to go so wrong these days.

“This gatehouse is typically athrum with artisans and merchants travelling into the city,” one of the guards explained. “But it all strangely halted yester-eve,” he added. 

“We sent a search party across the river to see if there was an obstruction upon the road,” Commander Malendrol continued. “But only one soldier returned.”

“Where is he?” Annatar asked, feeling (Y/N) trembling fingers intertwining with his. As usual, in times of trouble, she was seeking for him and his comfort, his assurance that it would all be alright and that he would keep her safe.

They stopped in front of a few other guards and when the guards walked away, they revealed a body of a soldier with his shirt torn to reveal his chest on which mysterious letters of the language unknown to Lady (Y/N) were carved. She winced and turned around to look away and Annatar squeezed her hand gently.

“Washed up this morning,” Commander Malendrol said. “He appeared to be carrying a message.”

Annatar took a step forward to take a better look at the body and read the signs as his face got serious. Adar’s army coming to Eregion was a part of his plan but he had been certain his Rings would be forged by then.

He was running out of time.

“Bury him,” he ordered and laid his eyes on Commander Malendrol. “Show this to no one,” he added. He did not want anyone in the city to be alarmed and expecting the worst.

When the guards walked away, Annatar put his arm around (Y/N) to walk her out of there and spare her delicate eyes from such sights. She sniffled her tears back and looked up at his face.

“That was awful…” She shook her head, affected. Annatar furrowed his brows, faking worry and compassion as he brought her hand up to his lips and placed a small kiss upon her knuckles. “Should I tell my father about it? I know he wanted us to carry on with his duties but this seems quite serious and–”

“No,” Annatar interrupted her as her lower lip trembled. “He has asked us to see it and that no one is permitted to disturb him,” he informed her in all seriousness, watching her eyes fill with more and more fresh tears. “Not even the smiths… Not even you.”

“N-not even m-me?” (Y/N)’s voice broke as silent tears streamed down her cheeks. Annatar smiled sadly at them as he wiped one with his thumb.

“He’s not himself, my gentle darling. For now, all we can do is leave him in solitude,” he whispered, trying to be the most delicate. Give him time. And pray…” He hesitated before finishing his sentence, unsure what effect it would have on her. “Pray that he finishes this work before it finishes him,” he eventually confessed, faking his own pain and sadness.

“I… I cannot lose my father. Oh, Annatar, please… I have suffered enough already, have I not?” She sobbed and he only stood there, watching her tears, not knowing what to say since he had so much more of the suffering prepared for her. “I lost my mother already… I cannot lose him. If there was a way of sacrificing my own self, my own sanity, just to save him… I would not hesitate,” she clenched her jaw out of determination as she confessed. “I know that he presents himself now as a man out of his mind but my father… My real father… He is the most gentle, the most kind, the most generous man and… And I would do everything to save him,” she finished, straightening her back as a sudden outburst of courage washed all over her.

Annatar looked down at their hands intertwined and caressed the silver ring on her finger with his thumb.

“The way you love is of the purest kind,” he whispered.

“I love you just the same,” she assured him and he cracked a sad smile before leaning in to kiss her forehead and walk away, leaving her crying quietly in the middle of the courtyard.

It was dark already when the siege began. Lady (Y/N) was as scared as everyone else but the very first person that came to her mind was Lord Annatar, naturally. The one who had always been able to make her feel the safest and the one who had always had a solution to all of her problems. He had always known how to comfort her with his sweet words.

So, even in times like this, she was running through the crowd of her father’s people, ignoring their screams and cries. And she did not run to the forge but to the tower where she had seen Annatar going before as she had been calling for him across the courtyard but he could not hear.

She was running up the stairs and then she froze at the sight of him, standing alone on the balcony and raising his hands up as he kept staring in the direction of the Orc army. What was he doing, she wondered? Was he performing some sort of magic spell, a ritual that was supposed to keep them all safe?

“My love?” She asked in a trembling tone. “My love, I am so scared,” she revealed and he turned around.

But the man she saw now – the sight of him made her gasp and take a step back as she nearly fell down the stairs. The man in front of her perhaps truly looked like her beloved Lord Annatar but his eyes were no longer kind or compassionate. There was nothing but pure evil and darkness burning in them as he approached her with a smirk.

“You, my love, are coming with me,” Annatar grabbed her by her arm, mocking the sweet phrase they had been calling each other with.

And as he dragged her behind him, she kept sobbing and trying to get out of his grasp but he was far too strong and no one could hear her cries for help amongst the chaos.

“What are you doing?!” She shouted. “Please, let me go! My love, please, you are scaring me!”

But all of her words and pleas seemed to have no effect upon her betrothed. He remained cold and unbothered as he dragged her towards her tower and all the way upstairs, pulling her body behind as if it was a sack of potatoes; not caring much about the many steps ahead of them and hurting her many times on the way.

He pushed the doors to her workshop open and threw her inside carelessly as he watched with contempt her body hitting the ground. Her gentle eyes looked up with fear at him as more and more sobs escaped her throat.

“Your father’s mind is of no use to me anymore. He has lost his senses,” Annatar announced, viciously. “You will craft me The Nine,” he added with a smirk, taking a step closer to her as she flinched and moved back.

“I do not understand… I…” She kept shaking her head and sniffling her tears back.

“Do you hear that?” Annatar shushed her as he faked concern. Screams and cries reached their eyes. “The people of Eregion are dying, my gentle Lady. And only you can save them – and your father – by giving me The Nine,” his fake concern turned into a smirk.

“Even if I wanted to, I cannot. My craft cannot match his in any way…” (Y/N)’s lips trembled.

“You are underestimating yourself as usual,” Annatar did not want to hear any of it as he stood right above her. “Your craft is more than enough. Have you not seen your works of art? I have. And all the noble ladies of Middle-earth and Númenor who are being complimented about their beauty… They all owe it to you,” he whispered, nearly seductively but the sudden eroticism of his voice was what scared her, too, because her pure and noble betrothed would never act this way.

Annatar crouched down to be on her level and she yelped, trying to move back even further but her back hit her desk, so she was trapped now between her own place of work and his body.

“You have been watching your father work for centuries. I am certain you are able to forge The Nine Rings for men,” he breathed out and leaned in even closer as their noises brushed but she turned her face away, trying to get away from him.

“Please, make it stop…” She pleaded. “I want my beloved back… I want Lord Annatar.”

“Oh, but… my sweet darling, Lord Annatar is me and I am him,” he smirked and the floor trembled this very moment after the city had been hit. (Y/N) cried out some more and he cupped her face as he shushed her gently with the most concerned expression he could manage. “My sweet, you can make it all stop. All of it, I promise.”

“Even if I truly could…” (Y/N) swallowed her tears. “I do not have any more mithril,” her whisper broke as she realised her own defeat.

“That is true, you do not,” Annatar nodded with a kind smile like his old one used to be but his eyes were still cold and cruel. “But you have something far more… precious,” he murmured as one of his hands travelled down to her neck and his fingernail brushed the pulsing point there, feeling her blood flowing underneath her smooth and gentle skin.

Their gazes met this very moment. Her eyes filled with terror at the realisation of what he was asking of her.

“What are you?” She breathed out, nearly inaudible as her whole body tensed. “No emissary of the Valar would ever ask me to do this,” she pointed out in a trembling voice and Annatar’s lips twitched as he kept staring at her the most intensely. “Who are you… truly?”

He moved away from her, very slowly. And as he was standing up to be above her once more, he appeared to get even taller and his presence was becoming more and more overlooming. (Y/N) curled herself up under his shadow as if she was a little mouse realising that she had just found herself in the trap set up by a big cat.

“I can become your doom or I can become your redemption. The choice is yours, but the longer you hesitate, the more people suffer. And Lord Celebrimbor… I am not quite certain if he is to survive the siege,” Annatar told her without even trying to hide his contempt.

“I have trusted you… I have betrayed my own father for you…” (Y/N) whimpered.

“Oh, but betrayal is a part of your bloodline, is it not?” Annatar smirked. “Even now, I can feel that you still… love me,” he added, mocking her feelings.

More tears escaped her eyes. Of course she still loved him. Was it even possible to stop loving someone so quickly?

“I love the lies you have told me. The illusion Lord Annatar has been,” she stuttered and gathered her strength to finally stand up as well although she had done it clumsily, grasping the edge of her desk to keep the balance. “But you… Whoever you are… I do not love you. And you will not lure me into your schemes,” she added, proudly. More screams from Eregion reached their ears but she remained cold as a statue and confused Annatar looked behind him after realising that her eyes were not set on him.

They were set on the portrait of her mother, Lady Dúlinnel.

“You might threaten me as much as you wish, dark spirit. And you might threaten me with my father’s death or mine,” she took a deep breath in, “but we do not fear it for we shall see Valinor after we die – a place where you are no longer welcome. And as much as I love my father, I know that he would rather die than allow me to forge such an abomination,” (Y/N) looked back at him again and Annatar’s fists clenched at her words as the muscles of his face twitched.

She could not be serious.

“You think you cannot be lured and tempted?” He smirked. “What about your great aunt, Lady Yestariel?”

“She… She is nothing but a fairytale,” (Y/N) shook her head. “She is a fairytale being told to young maidens as a warning… As a warning, so they know better and do not get seduced by the darkness. And I have listened to this fairytale many, many times. I shall not follow you and your commands anywhere for you are not the man I love…” (Y/N) sobbed as she said that because it was bringing her lots of pain to know that the love she had been receiving was nothing but a lie.

And even though Annatar smiled with pity at her, he was confused by his own reaction. Because some of his pity was genuine and the sight of her tears was unsettling to him. He did not want her to cry or resist him. He wanted her to follow him out of her own will.

“Let me show you,” he extended his hands but (Y/N) shook her head and tried to move away. “I just want to show you… the truth.”

“Nothing about you is the truth,” she remarked through her tears.

“Just let me,” Annatar did not listen to her at all and he grabbed her wrists as she groaned, trying to get away from his grasp. However, his fists were holding onto her so strongly that she gave up and that was when he showed her.

He showed her visions of his memories. He showed her Lady Yestariel, her great aunt, standing by Morgoth’s side. He showed her himself, watching Yestariel and twelve other Elves being tortured and changed into the first Uruks. He showed her Lady Yestariel’s eyes full of love and devotion whenever she laid them upon Morgoth. And he showed her Lady Yestariel’s fall as he was trying to reach her. He showed her all the memories he had from the First Age with her great aunt and a sister of her grandfather – Lord Commander Nillendur, who had died fighting the very evil his sister had chosen to follow.

(Y/N) gasped and took a step back as if Annatar’s touch was causing her physical pain. He let go of her and watched her confusion with satisfaction. Now she knew. She knew everything.

“You are He,” she whimpered, covering her lips with her fingers. “You are Sauron.”

“I have many names,” Annatar smiled at her maliciously, watching her whole world crumble down.

Everything she had believed and loved… Everything she had been dreaming of by her betrothed’s side… It had been nothing but the cruellest form of mockery.

“Why are you doing this to me?” She asked.

“I learnt from the best. I learnt from a God…” Annatar answered mysteriously. “When he sees the potential… He pushes them to the limits, he breaks them to rebuild,” he quoted his own words that he had said to Lady Yestariel about Morgoth. “You have the potential, my gentle darling.”

“You can kill me,” she breathed out to that. “I shall not take any part in your sorcery.”

“Yes, you will,” Annatar only said as he calmly turned around, approaching the doors. “I shall leave you here and the longer you hear their screams and cries, the more inclined you will be to forge me The Nine. And do not forget about your father either,” he added. “Good luck,” he smirked one more time before leaving her alone in her workshop.

Long hours passed and it was bright already when (Y/N) heard the doors open again. She expected no one else but Sauron himself, asking her about the progress. But it was not him – it was Mirdania.

She wondered how he had let that happen but considering the fact they were in the middle of a siege, it was quite acceptable for him to lose his focus on her for a moment.

“My Lady?” Mirdania asked, unsurely. “Are you hiding here?”

“I… I…” (Y/N) didn’t know what to answer.

She had been trying to get out of there but the doors had been locked and not even any of her tools had managed to open them. She had even considered jumping off of the tower but decided to not follow her mother’s steps and to prove the strength of her will. She simply had no idea how Mirdania managed to open the door – unless that was a part of Sauron’s plan as well…

But no – she refused to get paranoid.

“I am waiting for my father’s orders,” (Y/N) lied quickly.

“That is the thing, my Lady… Lord Celebrimbor is out of his mind, he acts as if the siege is not taking place. Lord Annatar is trying to help us but some of the commanders would rather wait for your orders,” Mirdania explained and (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of her betrothed’s name.

She opened her mouth to warn Mirdania about Annatar but then she realised she was on thin ice already. Her parents were both mad in the eyes of these people and she had her incidents as well. Now, in the middle of the attack, she was hiding inside the tower. If she was claiming now, all of the sudden, that the man she had been the most devoted to for the past few months was Sauron himself… Well, that could not possibly end well.

So, she had to straighten her back and simply pretend that everything was under control to calm her people down.

“I see,” she nodded. “Let me speak to Commander Malendrol,” she requested and followed Mirdania outside the tower.

To her surprise, there were no obstacles on the way. When she walked out of the tower and went into the courtyard, Commander Malendrol ran up to her immediately.

“My Lady, we are waiting for your orders,” he bowed his head at her.

“Who is leading the Orc’s attack?” (Y/N) asked, wanting confirmation of her suspicions.

“That man claiming to be the father of them – Adar,” Commander Malendrol answered, a little confused.

“I want to speak to him,” (Y/N) decided as Mirdania and the guard widened their eyes at her.

“My Lady!” Mirdania gasped. “That is too late to negotiate.”

“Has anyone tried?” (Y/N) raised an eyebrow.

“Herald Elrond, my Lady,” Commander Malendrol nodded at her.

“Let me as well. I am the Lady of Eregion since my father is… indisposed,” she insisted. “Send a messenger to Adar and tell him that Lady (Y/N) wishes to negotiate with him,” she told Commander Malendrol and then she hesitated. “Tell him to consider it… for the sake of his old friendship with Lady Yestariel. Adar will know what that is supposed to mean.”

Escorted by her guards that had been stripped of their swords, Lady (Y/N) walked through the muddy battlefield as the siege had stopped for a while and the Orcs kept staring at her with curiosity.

She did not feel safe by any means and the fact that Annatar had allowed her to get out of the tower, so far from the city, was more than worrying, she had to admit.

Still, she wanted to take her chance.

She spotted Adar approaching her from the opposite side and she recognised him immediately from the visions Annatar had shown to her before about her great aunt.

“Lady (Y/N),” Adar bowed his head slightly at the sight of her.

“Lord Father,” she tried to address him with respect and he cracked a smile before pointing at a tent to which he invited her.

She nodded her head at her guards and they allowed her to walk inside without them. Adar followed and they were left alone since no Orc was in there either.

“Thank you for still wanting to negotiate. Forgive my tardiness. My father is indisposed,” (Y/N) looked at Adar and watched him carefully.

“There is nothing to negotiate, Lady (Y/N). However, I could not deny your request after Lady Yestariel’s name was mentioned,” he sat down on one of the chairs but (Y/N) refused to sit down as she kept standing above him.

“What do you want of Eregion?” She asked. “I do not care if I live or die, I have lived for centuries, I have made sure my name will not be forgotten for I have mastered my humble craft. And I know that after I die, the light of Valinor awaits me. My people, however, the citizens of Eregion… Some of them are very young – they are children. They have not yet lived enough and they are far too young to understand. They are scared and in pain. I want it to stop,” she confessed as silent tears escaped her eyes.

“I want Sauron,” Adar answered, unbothered by her tears although his eyes kept following them streaming down her cheeks.

“I know who he is. I shall give him to you,” (Y/N) looked down at her hand where the silver ring still decorated her finger. She fidgeted with it nervously as she cracked a nervous smile. “Come with me, Lord Father,” she raised her eyes to lay them upon him. “I shall lead you inside Eregion and bring you to him. Spare my city and I shall give you Sauron.”

Long silence occurred and Adar kept watching her with his eyes squinted. She didn’t feel in danger around him but she could feel that he was not trusting her. She didn’t understand why, though.

“Why would I believe you? Is it not his ring you are wearing?” He snorted at her hand and she swallowed thickly.

“How do you know? I have been deceived… But I do not love Sauron,” she assured him, desperately.

“How can I be so sure that you are not willing to lead me into his trap? The way I see it, he was the one to send you here,” Adar explained.

“Why would I follow his orders? I hate him!” (Y/N) exclaimed, frustrated. “I want him dead as much as you,” she hissed out but she felt her heart quickening its pace at the realisation that she was trying to convince herself as much as him.

“He was the one to send you here… even if you do not realise that yet. Everything is a part of his scheme,” Adar told her softly and stood up to approach her. “You are far too gone now, my Lady; too entangled in his web,” he held her hands gently, squeezing the finger with Annatar’s silver ring on it. “Your great aunt was a dear friend of mine. We joined Morgoth together and we suffered together. I mourned her death.”

“And now, for the sake of the memory of her, can you not trust me?” (Y/N) tried to search for compassion in his cold eyes and she found it. But not in the way she expected.

“For the sake of the memory of her and because I have known Yestariel and her devotion to Morgoth, I know I cannot trust you a bit – even if I wanted to.”

(Y/N) was full of anger and frustration when she was on her way back to Eregion. The siege was supposed to go back to its full force in a few minutes since Adar had graciously granted her enough time to go back to her people before he would attack once again.

Her jaw was clenched and her eyes were burning with anger caused by her frustration. She truly had been thinking that Adar would help her and join her clever plan. However, Annatar kept destroying everything even when he was physically far away from her.

The moment she entered the city, she bumped into him – Annatar himself, looking as if the siege around him had not affected him at all because his robes and face remained clean. Even the whimsical bow in his blond hair seemed to be untouched. He looked down at her and greeted her with a warm smile.

“My love, I was told you had gone to negotiate with the Orcs? I have been so worried,” he put on a show in front of others.

“Oh, get out of my way,” (Y/N) pushed him away as everyone gasped, staring at her with widened eyes as she kept walking towards her tower.

“My Lord, are you alright?” Mirdania was by Annatar’s side in no time, offering him comfort after such a treatment from his betrothed. In fact, everyone pitied him – he made sure of that by putting on his hurt and confused expression.

“It is nothing,” Annatar assured her with a sad smile. “Lady (Y/N) is worried about the city and her father. Her annoyance is understandable.”

“We are all nervous, my Lord. She should have not acted this way towards you…” Mirdania insisted and Annatar took a deep breath in while trying to compose himself.

Once again he had been proved that the most devoted ones were always the most annoying ones as well.

He had to admit, he quite liked (Y/N)’s anger and the way she had pushed him. From that scared little mouse curling up on the floor beneath him, she quickly gathered her strength and courage and that was the most admirable.

“That is enough, Mirdania,” Annatar gave the smith a harsh, scolding look that took her aback. “We are in the middle of a siege and my relationship with Lady (Y/N) should not be one of your concerns. In fact, it should not be your concern at all. Now, forgive me, I should follow her for she seems to be upset.”

And as he said, he did, gathering his robe and hurrying up the stairs to (Y/N)’s workshop. 

The doors were ajar, so he only gently pushed them to see what she was doing and what he witnessed made him gasp softly.

(Y/N) was sitting on the ground, surrounded by all the tools she needed, the gemstones, metals and the cauldrons melting them. Her hands were shaking out of anger and one of her hands was cut open; bleeding all over the ingredients of the future Nine Rings she was forging. 

Hearing him walk inside, she looked up with fury and anger that sent a shiver down his spine. She had absolutely no idea how beautiful she looked but also how terrifying. Like a dark witch her great aunt had aspired to be.

Like a dark witch Sauron himself craved to have by his side; for her to command his armies of demons and shadows.

“I can play a game with you, too, shadow of Morgoth,” she drawled out through her gritted teeth. “You wish for my blood and its dark magic to seal your greatest creations? Let it be then,” she smirked as she squeezed her hand and allowed more of her blood to leak out. “Watch me curse myself for the usage of this forbidden craft. I care no more about what happens to me because, in the end, the last laugh will be mine, you fool,” her eyes sparkled at the sight of her blood mixing with the melting gold. Then, she looked up at him again. “You are forever bound with me now and for whatever you will use these Nine Rings – or The Seven that are allied to them – I shall be a part of your schemes forever now. My influence and my power is bleeding into these and you better beware while you use them for I swear to you… These Nine Rings will be your demise,” she finished her curse and used a thin spatula to mix the gold with her blood as she already reached out for the gemstones with her free hand.

Annatar had nothing to say at that. He only kept watching her in awe – witnessing her most beautiful craft and her most beautiful, terrific rage.

Oh, he was in love with her, he thought.

Now he was certain of it.

“These Rings are not my greatest creations,” he whispered. “You are.”

MASTERLIST

[sleepberries]

Pirate AU: Pirate captain Jason (known as Red Hood) and merman Peter (but with tentacles instead of a tail)

I think it would be a very interesting concept ♡

okay so . disclaimer i actually wrote this a couple days ago but forgot to post it (oops?) hope you enjoy !!

the captain and the curse (1.6k, teenish?)

Captain Jason Todd had made many questionable decisions in his thirty-odd years of life, but pulling that gods-damned trident from the ocean floor had to rank in the top three. Right behind "let's rob the Spanish treasure fleet" and "surely this tavern bed won't give me the pox."

The cursed thing had been sitting pretty on the sea floor, all coral-crusted and mysterious, practically begging to be claimed. Of course, the moment Jason's greedy fingers closed around it, up popped Peter—part man, part octopus, all attitude—demanding his "property" back. Apparently the trident was some kind of mystical anchor keeping Peter tethered to the mortal realm, and now that Jason had touched it, congratulations, he was the new anchor point.

Three weeks. Three weeks of having Peter—beautiful, infuriating, tentacled Peter—magically bound to his ship like the world's most attractive barnacle, and Jason was beginning to suspect the sea creature was going to drive him completely mad. Not the murderous kind of mad he was used to, but the kind that involved waking up hard as a mast every morning because his dreams were full of writhing tentacles and that insufferable smirk.

"Captain," Peter's voice drifted down from the crow's nest, sweet as honey and twice as dangerous, "are you brooding again? Because your face is doing that thing where you look like you're contemplating keelhauling someone."

Jason didn't look up from his charts. He'd learned that looking at Peter was a mistake—the bastard had taken to lounging in the rigging wearing nothing but a pair of leather pants that barely contained his eight writhing appendages, and Jason's self-control was already hanging by a thread.

"I'm working," Jason growled.

"Mm-hmm." There was a wet sound—Peter dropping to the deck with that unnatural grace of his. "Working on what, exactly? How to sail in circles? Because that's what we've been doing for the past hour."

Jason's jaw clenched. "We're avoiding the British patrol that's been hunting us since Port Royal."

"Oh, that little frigate?" Peter's laugh was like wind chimes in a hurricane—beautiful and completely inappropriate. "I sank her this morning. Well, not sank exactly. More like... gently encouraged her to develop a massive leak. The crew's probably halfway to shore by now."

"You did what?" Jason finally looked up, and immediately regretted it. Peter was perched on the rail, tentacles coiled around the rigging for balance, and droplets of seawater were sliding down his chest in ways that should be illegal.

"You're welcome," Peter said, batting his eyelashes. "Though I do expect proper gratitude. I was thinking a nice dinner, maybe some wine, followed by—"

"Followed by you going back to whatever hellish depths spawned you," Jason interrupted, but his voice lacked its usual bite.

Peter's grin widened, showing teeth that were just a little too sharp. "Now, now, Captain. Is that any way to talk to your ship's guardian? Besides, we both know you pulled that trident up on purpose."

"I did not—"

"Oh, please." Peter flowed down from the rail, tentacles moving with hypnotic grace as he approached. "You saw something shiny in the water and thought 'what's the worst that could happen?' And then you got me." He stopped just close enough that Jason could smell the salt and sea-spray on his skin. "Lucky you."

Jason's fingers tightened on his cutlass hilt. "The worst part is, you're enjoying this."

"Guilty as charged." One of Peter's tentacles—the particularly bold one that Jason had mentally dubbed 'the troublemaker'—curled around Jason's wrist. "You're much more interesting than my last anchor. He was a Spanish conquistador. Dreadfully boring. All 'glory to God' and 'death to heretics.' No sense of humor whatsoever."

"What happened to him?"

"Kraken ate him." Peter's expression was perfectly innocent. "Tragic, really. I was heartbroken for at least a week."

Jason stared at him. "You fed him to a kraken."

"I may have mentioned to my friend Matthew that there was a particularly annoying human bothering me." Peter's tentacles writhed in what Jason was learning to recognize as laughter. "Matt has such a temper. But don't worry, darling—you're far too entertaining to feed to sea monsters. Probably."

"Probably?"

"Well, that depends on how well you treat me." Peter examined his nails with affected disinterest. "I do require a certain standard of care, you know. Fine food, comfortable accommodations, stimulating conversation..."

"You eat raw fish and sleep in the rigging."

"By choice, not necessity." Peter's grin was sharp. "Though I must say, your hammock does look rather cozy. Big enough for two, even. Especially if one of those two happens to be very... flexible."

Jason felt heat creep up his neck. "You're incorrigible."

"I'm charming. There's a difference." Peter's tentacle tightened around Jason's wrist, thumb stroking over his pulse point. "Tell me, Captain, what exactly did you think would happen when you grabbed a mysterious magical artifact? Did you expect a nice, boring curse? Maybe some bad luck with the wind?"

"I expected treasure," Jason muttered.

"Oh, you got treasure." Peter's voice dropped to that dangerous purr. "Just not the kind you can spend in port. Though I'm infinitely more valuable than gold, wouldn't you say?"

"That remains to be seen."

"Ouch." Peter pressed a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "And here I've been nothing but helpful. Sinking your enemies, controlling the weather, providing delightful company..."

"You mean being a constant distraction."

"The best kind of distraction." Peter leaned against the rail, tentacles spread in a way that should be obscene but somehow looked natural. "Face it, Captain—your life was terribly dull before I arrived. When was the last time you had a real challenge?"

"I'm wanted by three different navies."

"Boring." Peter waved a dismissive hand. "Any halfway competent pirate can anger the authorities. But how many can say they've charmed a creature of the deep? How many have earned the loyalty of someone who could sink their ship with a thought?"

Jason's eyes narrowed. "Is that a threat?"

"It's a flirtation, you dense man." Peter's laugh was like silver bells in a storm. "Though I do love how your jaw twitches when you're trying not to be attracted to me. Very telling."

Jason's control was hanging by a thread. "You're insufferable."

"I'm irresistible. Again, there's a difference." Peter's tentacles were moving now, one coiling around the rigging, another trailing in the water, all of them somehow managing to look both casual and suggestive. "You know what I think, Captain?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"I think you're scared." Peter's eyes glittered with mischief. "Big, bad pirate captain, terror of the seven seas, and you're afraid of one little sea creature."

"I'm not afraid of you."

"No? Then why haven't you tried to get rid of me? You could throw the trident back into the ocean any time you wanted. Send me home to the depths, free yourself from this terrible burden of my company." Peter's smile was razor-sharp. "But you haven't. Why is that, I wonder?"

Jason's jaw clenched. "Maybe I like having control of the weather."

"Maybe." Peter's voice was silk and sin. "Or maybe you like having me around for entirely different reasons. Maybe you like the way I look at you. Maybe you've been wondering what it would feel like to have all eight of my tentacles wrapped around you, holding you, touching you..."

"Jesus Christ," Jason breathed, his knuckles white where he gripped the ship's rail.

"Not quite, though I appreciate the religious fervor." Peter was close enough now that Jason could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. "You know what I can smell on you right now, Captain?"

"Enlighten me."

"Want. Pure, desperate want." Peter's tentacle traced a feather-light pattern on Jason's forearm. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

Jason stared at him for a long moment, then grabbed Peter by the shoulders and hauled him in for a kiss that was more claim than caress. Peter melted against him with a satisfied sound, tentacles immediately wrapping around Jason's waist.

When they broke apart, both breathing hard, Peter's grin was absolutely wicked.

"Well," he purred, "it's about time."

Jason's response was cut short by a low growl in his throat, his grip tightening on Peter's shoulders as he leaned in closer. Peter's eyes gleamed with mischief, clearly enjoying the effect he was having, when a voice rang out from across the deck.

"Cap'n! Ship on the horizon!"

Jason and Peter sprang apart, though one of Peter's tentacles remained curled possessively around Jason's wrist. Jason grabbed his spyglass, scanning the horizon until he found the approaching vessel.

"British," he cursed. "HMS Defiance."

"Ooh, Captain Morrison's ship," Peter said conversationally. "Wasn't he the one who called you 'a scourge upon decent society' in that wanted poster?"

"You read my wanted posters?"

"I find them quite flattering, actually. Very dramatic." Peter's tentacles began to writhe with anticipation. "Shall I sink her?"

"Can you?"

"Darling, I could turn that ship into driftwood before they even knew what hit them." Peter's smile was all teeth. "But where's the fun in that? Why don't we play with them a little first?"

Jason found himself grinning despite the danger. "What did you have in mind?"

"Oh, I have so many ideas," Peter purred, his tentacles already reaching for the rigging. "But first, I think we need to discuss my compensation for services rendered."

"What kind of compensation?"

Peter's laugh was like music and mayhem combined. "Dinner, dancing, and at least three hours of your undivided attention. In your cabin. With the door locked."

Jason's pulse quickened. "Deal."

"Excellent." Peter was already flowing up the mast, tentacles working the sails with inhuman grace. "Now let's show these British dogs why you don't mess with the Bloody Wraith and his sea witch!"

As Peter began to sing—something low and haunting in a language older than kingdoms—the wind picked up and the sea began to churn. Jason watched his impossible, infuriating, absolutely perfect curse work his magic and found himself thinking that maybe grabbing that trident had been the best decision he'd ever made.

Even if Peter was never going to let him live it down.

[literaila]

reassurance

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: megumi can't sleep

warnings: reader teases megumi, missing satoru

last part | next part

*

year one.

it’s your first night with the kids alone. 

and you’re not nervous—no, not at all. having satoru around is basically like having a toddler who’s learned how to walk and gets into cupboards (just maybe slightly more annoying and less cute), so why would you be worried without him here? 

honestly, it’s probably better this way. there’s no one to annoy megumi into hiding in his room all night. no one to use terrible pickup lines and swear that they’re working (they are). 

but… you will admit that his presence is a reassurance of its own. 

not just because of his power, or his strength, though that’s certainly something to consider. if someone was going to come and steal your children back, now might be a perfect opportunity. you know that they would lurk at your door waiting for a single moment that satoru was gone. and it would probably work, except for the fact that you’d sooner skin yourself with a dull knife from satoru’s kitchen than let that happen. 

obviously, satoru wouldn’t need to go to such extremes. one blink from him and any threat would basically evaporate. 

but it’s not even that.

satoru has always been that reassurance for you. despite any complaints you have about his attitude and the stupid things he says… it’s a welcome escape from the interminable worries in your mind. 

you’d discovered this at sixteen when the two of you were alone on a mission for the first time. 

if you were worried, if you got hurt, if you had a single doubt hidden beneath the warmth of your cursed energy or the bravado you’d foolishly flung around at that age—satoru was the complete opposite of all of that.

he would wave off your fears with a raised eyebrow. would laugh off your injuries before dragging you to the infirmary. he would take your doubts—with all of their hidden strength and knowledge—and purify them to a pulp. 

you’ve never quite understood it. 

where suguru would share your fears with you, assuring that you weren’t alone in the world of morality and fear, satoru would think of absolutely nothing at all. 

and make fun of him all you want, but it was a nice break from logic and emotion. you’d admired him at sixteen for being so detached from the world and its curses. 

(now, sometimes, it worries you. has he fallen so far from humanity that he can’t feel any of it? is he immune to the tortures of living in a world like yours?) 

and you got used to being alone with those thoughts and doubts. you had to, even if you’d missed him desperately for a time that felt much longer than a year. 

but you’ve also never had two children in your care, never had to worry about anything but yourself and the consequences of your very minute actions. 

now every action feels like a tidal wave you could point in any direction. 

if satoru was here, you think, at least you could blame the mistakes on him. comparatively, one of you is much better at being a responsible adult for tsumiki and megumi (hint: not the strongest sorcerer of the modern age). 

and with satoru on some egregious mission—to who knows where, directed by only the people who hate him the most—you’re stuck in his house, with the kids, all alone. 

it feels much too big in here without satoru’s ego to fill it. 

maybe if you’d had a day to prepare you’d be better off. but satoru called you six hours ago with the news—and you know that he did it on purpose—telling you that you should just stay the night. you can even sleep in my bed, he’d drawled to you, just like you’ve always dreamed of. 

you could’ve told him to go to hell, you know, if it weren’t for the sweetest little girl and the grumpiest little boy you’d ever met. 

and, actually, it hasn’t gone too bad so far. 

you made them dinner, which they both ate diligently like if they didn’t finish every bit on their plates you would kick them out—who knows if they liked it with the people-pleasing brats. and then they’d sat on the couch, commenting on some movie you’d never heard of. 

and now, at ten o’clock at night, you’re cleaning up the kitchen worrying about the very monsters you’d trained for four years to deal with. 

it's absolutely ridiculous, but there's no one here to tell you that. 

“what’s wrong with your face?” a voice says, suddenly. 

you turn to see megumi in the ridiculous pajamas satoru insisted on getting him—with some type of cat on them for god knows why—standing in the kitchen doorway with his signature frown. 

“jeez,” you breathe out, leaning against the counter—pretending like your cursed energy hadn’t surged in your fists the moment you saw him there—and crossing your arms. “don’t scare me like that, kid. did satoru tell you to do that?”

you almost want to laugh at how his frown deepens at the mention of his name. 

“sorry,” he murmurs, going to sit on a bar stool, just a bit too short to do it elegantly. “what’s wrong?” 

“what? nothings wrong.”

“your face looks weird.” 

oh, another thing about tonight. megumi is a lot more forthcoming when satoru isn’t around—you choose not to dwell on the prospects of that. you wonder what he’s like when you’re not around.

“i was just thinking," you say, blandly. 

“you have to have a freaky look on your face to think?” 

“okay, judgy," you sigh, leaning against the counter across from him, a brow quirked. "what are you doing up? it’s late.” 

megumi shrugs. “can't sleep.” 

he says it like he’s dealt with the same problems for many years like he’s not six years old and missing a tooth. it would be cute—how old and mature he seems—if it didn’t worry you. 

satoru would coo at him, call him an old soul and ruffle his hair until megumi smacked him away. 

but you wonder if he’s less an old soul and more of a hurt child. 

“are you thinking about the scary movie satoru showed you?” you ask him, frowning. “i heard tsumiki had nightmares about it a couple days ago.” 

“no. it wasn’t that scary. tsumiki just doesn’t like monsters.” 

“and you do?” 

he shrugs again. 

you tap your fingers against the countertop. “have you been up this whole time?” 

he nods. his movements are short and exact. “why are you still awake?” 

“i was cleaning up.” 

“gojo usually doesn’t do that until morning."

“what did we discuss at dinner?” you ask, rhetorically, shaking your head. “don’t do anything satoru does.” 

megumi nods again, very seriously. 

“do you need something? warm milk? my mom used to give me that when i couldn’t sleep.” 

the boy frowns. “gross.” 

“don’t knock it till you try it,” you tell him, smiling a little. “you were a baby once too.” 

he shakes his head and you laugh. you should be scolding him and telling him to go back to sleep, but it's rare when you get a moment alone with the little boy. you're almost savoring it.  

“did you try counting sheep?” you ask, teasing him. it's very easy when he looks almost... comfortable. 

he rolls his eyes, messing with a wrapper satoru left lying around, but you can tell that he's trying not to smile too. after three months with him, it's almost easy to see the subtle shift in his features. 

“when’s gojo going to be back?” he asks, after a moment, looking up at you with dark blue eyes. his voice is quieter, still like a portrait. 

you pause, considering. it's a surprising change of subject. honestly, you hadn't even thought that megumi had noticed he was gone. “um… i’m not sure. it could be tomorrow, it could be a couple days from now. it depends on how far he had to go for work.” 

“he’s killing curses right?” 

the words almost shock you into taking a step back, but you refrain. 

you make a mental note to smack satoru the next time you see him. 

your mouth opens. then you close it. “what does satoru tell you when i’m not here?” 

he scratches his head. “just that we’re privileged and that i can see things other people can’t.” 

you narrow your eyes at him. 

“and that he’s the best.” 

you roll your eyes. “yeah, that sounds like him.” 

“is he?” 

“hmm?” 

“the best?” 

you watch his eyes, suddenly wide, weirdly curious. “i guess,” you answer, a little teasing, a little serious. you don't really want to explain this to megumi. you shouldn't have to. “he’d be better if he didn’t brag about it all of the time.” 

“so he kills those things a lot?” 

“what do you mean?” 

“it’s normal for him?” he clarifies, leaning his small arms on the counter to observe you closely. 

if you weren't so used to this, you might feel a bit uncomfortable. 

“um, yes." you answer, not sure how far to go. "it’s pretty standard for sorcerers.” 

“like me, right?” 

“yes.” 

he nods, his brows still furrowed, thinking harder than a six-year-old should. in your personal opinion, he shouldn't have to worry about anything. 

but satoru clearly doesn't share that sentiment. 

it's quiet for a moment while megumi thinks about your words. he doesn't seem to be wary of his own powers, or the fact that he's been shoved into this world. but, still, this is a weird topic for him. 

it makes you wish again that satoru was here, just so you don't have to explain everything alone. he's much more clear than you are. 

after the silence draws on, megumi looks down at the counter with skeptical eyes, your brows raise in surprise. “are you--" you almost smile. "are you worried about him?” 

megumi’s head snaps up, his eyes wide. “what?” he snaps, voice harsher than you've heard it directed at you. “no.” 

your lip twitches. 

“it’s nice without him,” the boy continues. “he always tries to mess up my hair.” 

because this is the worst thing that satoru has done to the boy, obviously. 

you watch him as he looks away again, a little embarrassed. he shakes his head so his hair hides his face. 

“oh, yeah," you respond, a little sarcastic. "why would you miss him?” 

why would anybody? 

“right.” he pauses. from this close, you can see a pattern of freckles on his pale skin. he looks up again. “are you worried?” 

you almost smile. “no, he’s too annoying to get hurt.” 

megumi nods immediately. 

*

you’re eating breakfast with the kids when he appears at the table, his grin wide, his hair a bit wild. 

satoru is sitting with the three of you before you can blink, his arms open wide, his blindfold a bit crooked. 

you gasp and both children flinch away at his sudden appearance. 

he is quite scary. 

“hey, family,” he says to all of you, smoothly. “what’d i miss?” 

megumi stands up from the table, taking a step away from the man, and you smack his head. 

tsumiki just giggles. 

*

next part

[lillaydee]

Shhh!!! Part 4

Celebrity!Joel Miller / F Reader

A reluctant celebrity contractor who has closed his heart for love meets a celebrity-hating Cafe on Wheels owner...

She HATES him. Thing is, he couldn't get enough of the coffee she makes...

Tag List:

@kirsteng42 @peelieblue @harriedandharassed @joelalorian @vickie5446 @inept-the-magnificent @maried01 @brittmb115 @peedrow @lovefreylove

Let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the tag list.

Dividers by the awesome @saradika

Header by Moi cause I learned how to use Canva! Yay me!

WARNINGS: Grumpy Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Celebrity Joel Miller, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, I'm Bad At Tagging, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy.

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 3

***I'm not a Barista, and I do not live in the US, much less LA. So please excuse any mistakes i might make regarding coffee and its prices yeah?***

“Okay. Work… please work…” Joel mumbled to himself, rubbing his hands together, the lack of caffeine for the past two days not exactly helping. He was standing in his kitchen, facing the 20 odd years old coffee machine he had just spent two whole days fixing. The repair this time around took a bit longer than the previous attempts, his fingers were a bit shaky. Not because of caffeine withdrawal or anything. Those damned parts were too fucking small and fiddly. His fingers were too big. They’d obviously gotten way bigger than they were the last time he fixed the machine. Fingers do that after six months, right?

To top it all off he didn’t exactly sleep well these past three nights. Tossed and turned for no reason whatsoever. His mind kept replaying the fact that you somehow managed to be so sweet to that annoying girl and then turned around and raged at him like that. He went there to apologize, to tell you he was sorry, and instead, he was met with hostility. Okay, he did bark at you, yet again, but he was pushed into it. That damned annoying girl, the grumpy guy, damn Tommy. He did nothing wrong. And what did he get for trying to be nice? You charged him 40 bucks for coffee, your sweet, smiley face darkened for his displeasure.

That, and the fact that he was in deep shit with Ellie, and somehow, Sarah too.

He went to pick her up the evening of the robbery, relieved to have the paperwork for the season over and done with, looking forward to relax and spend more time with Ellie, only to find her already waiting for him in the parking lot, face like thunder. Turned out grumpy guy from that morning was the TA in her class, and he had gleefully told the class that Lily had given pompous, self-important, ‘I’m a celebrity I get to cut the line’ Joel Miller exactly what he deserved after he barked at her for trying to give him a free cup of coffee, and then had the gall to be all appalled when she overcharged his millionaire, entitled ass.

Joel couldn’t get a word in edgewise to defend himself, Ellie was furious that he had, yet again, embarrassed her by being rude to ‘sweet, wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly Lily’ who was kind enough to hire her. He’d had it then. He wasn’t an idiot. He googled the price of a shot of espresso that morning, unable to believe they would cost that much. They were less than two dollars a shot, and that was at really fancy, high-end cafés, even in an expensive city like LA. There were places that sell them for less than a dollar a shot. You had not only offensively overcharged him for each shot, but you also made it very clear that you hated him, and for that, he had to pay you an extra ten bucks for your troubles.

He was angry at you, really angry. You charged him that much money simply because he was a celebrity. That’s discrimination, plain and simple. He couldn’t see you doing that to some rude, homeless dude. You took advantage of the fact that he had money.

But try as he might, he couldn’t deny the fact that he had contributed to this hatred of yours. He was rude to you. Twice. So, he rationalized your anger and robbery as a spur of the moment retaliation, and he was ready to let it go. But when Ellie came in hulking about his treatment of you, that anger came back. He might be an asshole, but he didn’t mean to be, not that morning, he really didn’t.

The rage he had managed to supress came bubbling back up and he told her she couldn’t work with you anymore. No daughter of his would ever work for a robber, he said.

“Joel! You can’t do that! She needs my help!”

“Oh, that’s rich. She needs help to rob people? She only makes coffee for a living, for crying out loud, how hard could it be? I can do that with my eyes closed. She did just fine before you started working for her, she’ll be fine doing all her robbing solo now. You are NOT to talk to her again, you understand me?”

Ellie stopped walking, turned around, got something out of her pocket and placed it in Joel’s hands. “She said she would apologize to you in person, but in case she didn’t see you…” and then she turned around and went into her room.

Ellie slammed the door to her room so hard Joel swore the water in the pool rippled. He looked in his hand. 40 dollars. He never told Ellie how much you charged him for the coffee. So this money really was from you.

He could hear Ellie call Sarah on speaker phone, neither bothering to keep their voices down as she complained about him controlling her, how it wasn’t fair, Sarah in disbelief he would do that to you, of all people. The gasp Sarah let out when Ellie told her his remarks about you ‘only making coffee for a living’ was enough to make him wince, pressing his ear to the door to listen to her response.

Sarah told Ellie to take her off the speakerphone and go outside to her balcony to speak.

His calls to Sarah went unanswered.

Damn it.

The next day, in an effort to coax her, Joel asked a quiet Ellie if she could take the day off from work. He could pick her up at noon, maybe they could go have lunch together? Just the two of them? Maybe a movie after? No, she said, she’s working. He’d have to drag her out of your truck to get her to leave. Good luck doing that without someone getting it on camera. He didn’t have to pick her up either. She’ll Uber, she said, before slamming the door behind her.

Joel sat in the truck for quite a while, fingers drumming on the steering wheel, contemplating whether he should go and see you, wait for the coast to be clear, and really apologize. Maybe he could get that cup of coffee while he was there. He’ll even pay the 40 bucks again, to show you he was serious about apologizing.

But the longer he sat there contemplating, the less courage he had to go to you. He had met you three times, he froze the second time – seeing as your ready smile disappeared as soon as you saw him - not that he could blame you. He should have let you cool off before going over then, perhaps you wouldn’t have been so mad at him still if he had waited a few days before trying to apologize? And he managed to bark at you during the other two meetings. What if he did that again? And maybe his nerves would settle by then, he would make sure he was not annoyed at anyone or burdened by the worry that his daughter had gone missing before he went to see you next.

But he really wanted coffee. Not necessarily the ones you make, of course, but he was not looking forward to find parking during rush hour. He’ll just have to fix that machine. He could do without coffee for a day.

He disassembled the old machine and laid out the parts one by one, cleaning everything, taking notes on what needed replacing, making a list of what to get. He got everything he needed to get and picked up a still angry Ellie, who spent the rest of the day in her room, not speaking to him.

The next day was spent reassembling everything. New wiring, new everything. It took him so long he was nodding off by the time he placed the finished product on his kitchen counter, going straight to bed, hoping that he would at least get some sleep after two sleepless nights.

He didn’t. And now he really needed that coffee.

“Please work… please… I need this. Please…” he said over and over as he filled the filter with coffee, closed the lid, poured in the water and placed the pot on the warmer plate. Ellie came out of her room and poured herself some milk and some cereals to eat dry. She watched as her adopted father rubbed his hands together over and over before finally flicking the switch on, and the coffee maker came to life – well, at least the red light at the bottom of the thing lit.

Joel flicked the switch at the bottom of the machine.

The kitchen was silent for a few seconds. Joel couldn’t breathe. Ellie stopped chewing in anticipation.

The hiss came, and the next thing they knew, coffee began dripping into the pot, and the aroma of coffee began emanating through the kitchen.

Joel whooped. Ellie rolled her eyes and texted Sarah – ‘He got it to work again’.

They were still not speaking, but both were now staring at the coffee pot as coffee trickled steadily into it, Joel with a satisfied grin on his face, relieved that he could now get coffee without having to pay a small fortune to some fancy café, or a disgruntled small business owner such as yourself. Ellie was just amazed that machine refused to die, to be honest. She respected the determination that old machine had. Damn. That’s good quality machinery.

Joel turned around, struck by the silence in the kitchen, usually filled with the crunching of dry cereal. Ellie didn’t even look away, her lips turned down while her head nodded slightly, clearly impressed at this feat. He turned towards her, wanting to clear the air off the discomfort this silent fight over the situation between him and her boss once and for all.

* Hiss… crackle… hiss… POP! *

The house went dark, save for the morning light coming from outside through the curtains. The machine was smoking. Joel rushed to pull the socket out of the outlet.

‘Nvmnd, it imploded’ Ellie’s fingers quickly texted, stuffing the last of the cereals into her mouth and downing her glass of milk before placing the dishes in the sink.

Joel sighed. “Why wouldn’t you work???” he grunted at the machine.

“I dunno. Maybe cause it’s ancient?” Ellie snarked, going to her room to get her bag.

Joel poured whatever was in that coffee pot into a mug, desperate for coffee. Two days without coffee. He was dying. He took a sip, and immediately spat it back out into the sink, wiping his mouth of any remnants and gargling the taste away.

Sarah and Tommy were right. Heck, even Ellie, who had never drunk a drop of coffee in her life was right. That machine produced shit coffee. That was too bitter. Burnt. He hadn’t noticed before. He was too used to it, having consumed coffee it brewed for over 20 years.

Well, shit.

He stared at that still smoking machine, his head down. He cleaned the area quickly, wiping that machine down. He went to the utility room and reset the breaker, coming back out to a waiting Ellie. She didn’t say anything, but she could see how down he was that the machine broke, yet again. He grabbed his wallet and keys, put his shoes on and went into the garage. As Ellie closed the door to leave, she couldn’t help but notice he didn’t move the machine to the garage as he usually did when it broke, leaving it at its usual spot.

Joel didn’t speak throughout the journey to the rec centre. Ellie found herself worrying, despite her determination not to forgive him so easily.

‘He’s too quiet. I’m worried. I think the machine breaking again broke him,’ she texted Sarah.

‘Call me when ur alone’ Sarah had texted back.

Ellie grabbed Joel’s hand as she opened the door when they’d arrived, giving it a squeeze, earning her a small smile from the man before leaving. He watched as Ellie walked to the truck, no class today. She just wanted to work, determined to get that car. Joel contemplated going with her for a cup. He still hadn’t had his coffee. And going three whole days without one was definitely going to push him over the edge. But even he could tell that today was not a good day to go see you.

It’s stupid, he knew that. The machine was over 20 years old. It first gave out maybe ten years ago, but every time it did, he managed to fix it. Tommy, Angela, both had gifted him coffee machines for Christmas and birthdays, but he had always given them away, preferring to use the one he already had.

When he moved to this house all those years ago, the machine was the first thing he brought in. Every time it broke and got fixed, the time it took between working and  breaking again got shorter and shorter, and today, it broke in less time than it took to make a full pot. A record by any means.

Laura hadn’t been a coffee drinker. And Joel couldn’t function without a cup every morning. Earlier in their marriage he had basically gotten by on instant coffee, and was fine with it, until Laura presented him with that machine he had kept to this day. He still bought that brand she had bought with the machine, ground coffee rather than instant ones.

She was his first love. Before her, girls were flings and one night stands, nothing more. He was 19 and still enjoying his life as a young man. She wasn’t interested in him at first but relented and agreed to go out on a date with him one day. She got pregnant when he was 20, and they got married immediately. He got a job, she stayed at home with Sarah when she was born. They didn’t have much, but they made do. He was happy.

And then, just a week after his birthday, his boss came, tires screeching to his worksite – she had been in an accident. She didn’t make it.

His world crumbled that day. And that coffee machine was the one birthday gift he had ever received from her. So he kept it, a reminder of his one and only love life, a life he didn’t want to relive. It hurt too much. But now, even he was sure that machine was dead. For good. And he was scared. Worried, that that reminder of that life he had was now gone. It made his heart beat uncomfortably, made his breathing feel off.

Maybe he just needed coffee. That ought to get his bearings right. But going to see you for a cup in this state of mind wasn’t a good idea. So he decided to brave the morning traffic and get a cup of coffee from one of those fancy chains, just to ease his craving.

He drove over, parked, and stood in the ridiculously long line, a hat on his head, keeping his eyeline on the floor, praying that he wouldn’t be recognized. He finally got to the counter, the barista asking him at least three times if he was sure he wanted six shots of espresso. He nodded and gave the boy his card and waited for his order. When it was ready, he picked it up and went inside his truck to take his drink in peace.

It was good. Certainly much better than that travesty he had somehow thought was great coffee for more than 20 years. Certainly eased his caffeine fix.

But something was missing.

He kept waiting for that feeling he had when he first took a sip of the coffees he had gotten from you. That calm, comforting feeling that made him feel all warm and fuzzy and cared for, but it never came.

Well, he thought, that was to be expected, really. The machine he held on to for over 20 years just died, maybe for good, so perhaps he wasn’t feeling too soft today.

A package arrived for Ellie that day. He didn’t open it, but when he told her about it that evening, she said it was something she ordered a few days ago. She needed it for work, and oh, by the way, she was working the next day.

“Tomorrow’s Sunday,” he protested. He was already annoyed she chose to go to work on a Saturday, but being alone at home had actually helped him calm down about the coffee machine. He had hoped they would be able to spend time together. Maybe go shopping for a new coffee machine.

“There’s a charity thing going on tomorrow, for homeless kids. Lily is open most Sundays anyway, so she’s participating. There’ll be a crowd. I want to help her. Please? That truck is her only source of income, she needs the money,” she pleaded.

Joel sighed. Fine. But next weekend, we spend some time together, okay? Deal, Ellie said.

“Ellie, it’s almost seven. I thought you said you needed to be there 730?” Joel knocked on her door.

No answer.

“Ellie?”

No answer.

“I’m coming in,” Joel opened the door and walked in, Ellie bundled up in bed, sweaty and feverish. Joel immediately sat next to her, hand feeling her forehead. Shit, she was burning up.

“I don’t feel too good,” she croaked.

“Well, okay, you stay home and rest. Where’s your phone? We can text Lily and tell her you’re not coming.”

“No Joel, she needs the help. Her coffee grinder is broken. I need to help her grind the coffee. I even ordered one to help her. She wouldn’t have time to grind and make the drinks at the same time. I need to help her.”

“Well, you’re in no shape to help anyone right now. No, you’re staying in bed.”

“Can you help her, Joel? Please? She needs the help! Just grind some beans for her and put it in the container so she could just scoop some up to make the coffee with. Please? You don’t even have to stay long. Just fill the container. And then you could come home. Please? I’ll owe you one. Please Joel?”

If there was one thing about Joel Miller, he was a secret softie at heart. There was no way he could withstand pleas from his girls. All they had to do was say please, and he would cave. So, from the very first plea, he knew he would be spend the day grinding coffee beans. For Ellie, of course. Anything for Ellie.

“Fine, but you stay home and rest, okay? I’ll get you some Tylenol.”

“It’s okay, I’ve already taken some. Go. She’ll be waiting,” she said, pushing him off the bed a little.

She waited until Joel left to get rid of the hot water bottle she had hidden under the blanket.

You were getting the truck ready for the day. There was an event today, just a friendly soccer match between some local teams. As per every Sunday you opened, you were just doing a half day today. There was laundry to be done, some greasy Chinese you planned to order and a nice book you just got with your name on it. You had just emptied one container of coffee beans you had freshly roasted this very morning into the grinder and were getting another out when hurried footsteps approached.

Weird, you thought. It’s 735. Who was here this early? You don’t open until 8 on Sundays. The match wouldn’t start until 9.

Oh God it’s him. Oh, wait, this is good. You can apologize to him now. You had felt bad for doing what you did on Wednesday, but he hadn’t shown since. This was your chance.

Wait. Was he carrying… a coffee mill? A classic one at that. The ceramic kind. With the manual handle on top and the wooden drawer at the bottom. The one your Dad had on display at his cafés. He was half running, climbing straight into your truck, apologizing for being late, asking you where he should set up.

You just stood there, your brain trying to catch up with what the heck was going on. He placed the mill on the counter nearer to the door, asking you if that was okay? Would he be in your way? You shook your head absent-mindedly, still trying to figure out what was going on.

He reached for an apron behind you, immediately putting it on and tying the strings behind him, taking the container of coffee beans from you, pointing to the other empty container you just emptied, asking you if that’s where the ground coffee should go? You didn’t even have time to answer, he immediately scooped some beans out and placed it in the bowl, immediately grinding the beans as fast as he could, telling you that Ellie was sick, so he was here to help instead. He hoped that was okay? He won’t be in your way, he promised.

He was grinding the fourth batch of beans when your brain finally caught up, and you put your hand on his, stopping his actions. He looked at you.

“What is going on? Why are you here? I hope Ellie is not too sick, but I wasn’t expecting her today.”

He looked confused. It was only then that he looked around, realizing that there were not many people around.

“She… told me to come in her stead… she said there was a charity event today? That you’d be extremely busy. And that your grinder was broken, and you needed her help to mill some beans?”

You looked at him as if he was speaking gibberish.

“There’s a friendly soccer match at 9, but… other than that… and also…” you took a step back and turned the knob on the grinder. Within seconds, the doser was filling up with freshly ground coffee.

You looked at him, who was now sweating slightly from his milling efforts, looking confused as hell. He suddenly took a deep breath, closed his eyes and held up one finger at you, taking his phone out and dialling, his face as stern as only a father’s could be.

“Ellie! Pick up! What the heck is going on? You just wait, young lady! You wait ‘til I get home. You and I need to have some serious talks!” He hung up, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Look, Joel, I’m sorry you had to come all the way here. I swear I know nothing about this. I’m sorry you spent all that effort milling. Shit, are you okay?”

He looked at the ground coffee he had already placed in the container. “Can you use this? Did I damage your beans?”

You laughed a little, “No, it’s just unnecessary labour, that’s all. I’m sure you would rather sleep in, today being Sunday and all.”

He leaned on the cupboard behind him, his size making your truck look like a toy. He rubbed his face, shaking his head, trying to understand why Ellie had lied to him like this. And now she was not picking up his calls. He wondered if she was even sick. Wait… she bought a coffee mill just to send him here to use it? Did she concoct this whole thing? For what? His head was spinning so much he had to bend down a little to catch his breath. You slid a stool over to him, placing your hand on his shoulder, asking him to sit down.

“You okay?”

He nodded, sitting down, rubbing his face again. “Thanks for asking,” he mumbled. He took another deep breath.

“Lily, right?”

You nodded.

“Could I please trouble you for a cup of coffee? My machine is broken. Again.”

You smiled, of course, you said. You turned around and began making his coffee, using the ground he had just milled. He should be able to enjoy the fruits of his unnecessary labour, you joked, earning you a smile from him. When you finally handed him his cup, he got his wallet out of his pocket, and you waved him off. It’s on the house, Joel. Don’t worry about it.

“No, please, I insist,” he said, taking his card out. “Can’t have you losing 40 dollars every time I get coffee here.”

You laughed, embarrassed by his teasing. “I’m sorry about that. I just… I guess I had enough of people treating me like shit just because they are someone, or merely for the fact that I serve them coffee, you know? Just because I am not famous and I make coffee for a living doesn’t mean I’m below them, you know?”

He nodded, hand still holding his card out to you.

“Really, Joel, it’s okay. It’s on the house.”

Joel felt bad. “Please, I can’t do that to you. This is how you make a living. Please let me pay.”

You smiled, “Joel, I won’t go bankrupt just because I gave you a cup of coffee. Don’t worry. Keep it. I insist.”

He finally relented, stashing the card back into his wallet, and finally taking a sip.

There it was.

His eyes closed, that warm and fuzzy feeling was back, spreading into his bones. He suddenly felt calm, safe, protected, cared for. His breathing eased, his body relaxed, an unwitting smile gracing his features. When he finally opened his eyes, your smiling face greeted him, and his eases heightened. His mood just… lifted. For the first time in a long time, he actually felt happy, and it had nothing to do with Sarah or Ellie.

“Hey Lil?” Tony from the next truck’s voice chirped. “You open? The baby was up all night and I need coffee the size of my head.”

“Yeah, sure. Is he okay?”

“He seems okay, just fussy. Babies, you know. Er… Lil, customers starting to line up, that okay?”

“Give me a minute, okay? Still setting up,” you told them, an apologetic smile on your face. They nodded, asking you to take your time. People have started arriving for the tournament, and you haven’t quite finished setting up.

“Can I help? I’m here and all…” Joel got up, taking another sip of his coffee before placing the cup on the counter, rolling his sleeves.

“You don’t have to, I’m okay, really.”

“Let me help. I stalled you, let me do the easy things. Please. It’s the least I can do. Free labour for the lady I was rude to, please? Take it as a first step to the many, many apologies I plan to seek from you.”

You contemplated for a while, before asking him to take the orders. You gave him a quick tutorial of the till, and he tried totalling six shots of espresso, keying the price into the reader and tapped his card on it, grinning at your annoyed expression that he managed to pay you despite your protest. It’s confirmed. Six shots of espresso did not cost 40 dollars, he told you, raising an eyebrow cheekily.

You rolled your eyes and told him to ask you if he runs into any problems.

“Yes Ma’am,” he said, tipping his hat at you.

You handed Tony his drink and flipped the closed sign to open. Joel stood at the till, smiling at the first customer in line, who immediately recognized him.

“Oh my God! You’re Joel Miller aren’t you?”

“Sorry, you must have me confused with someone else. I’m just Joel today, may I please take your order?”

Part 5

[beeandthescreen]

I love Amara! I'm dying to know how she'd (as a character that struggles with being more than a killer/tool and experiences new emotions and roles on earth) views grey morality especially after the Mark vs Cecil argument?

Does she feel a connection to Cecil's views on defending earth by any means necessary even if it makes you cut throat? Does she even know it happens?

Also curious to know who she met on earth first? Did Mark get sent up to intercede before she landed? Or did Cecil transport himself to her landing site like he did with Nolan?

Also her hair cut??? Iconic

Okay, first off, I'm actually so grateful you love her?? Like?? My little Shayla is interesting to other people??? THANK YOU?? I'm so touched i'm like jumping in my seat ok ok, serious time.

Okay, a little context before I answer the actual question:

Amara, despite having the conscience to leave the empire, is essentially an empty cup.

She left at 19 when her chance to discover the universe—enslaving a planet of her own—was offered to her. As a result, she has less knowledge of the universe and its workings than her peers, who have spent long periods up close and intimate with other civilizations.

Yes, she has committed atrocities on several different worlds, but hasn't had the chance to know what an actual culture is or how people operate. Her training was purely kill, then leave. So you can say that up until she actually left, she's so fucking blind.

Also, she is the third youngest Viltrumite (twinning w Mark and Oliver.) so the knowledge gap is just... very large.

Imagine being raised in a horrible place, learning horrible things, with horrible people, having nobody your age around you, and nobody to have a real, meaningful conversation with.

The only reason she hasn't turned out like the rest is the only actual relationship that has ever mattered to her until her defection to the Coalition of Planets-- her mother.

Her mother haunts Amara's narrative. Her Debbie. The only reason Amara isn't an actual monster. (The Mark and Amara bond in my universe goes so fucking crazy and I will unpack that one day.) The only kind face, the only embrace, the only proof of joy and tenderness and love. That proof was enough for Amara to weather the storm.

Her desire for vengeance can only extend her knowledge so far.

That being said, authority figures are something so familiar to her.

She was raised as a thing-- they point and she shoots. There is a sad comfort she finds as a tool. She cannot shake that. She is aware her entire mindset and life experience is a problem, but pointing out each individual thing and analyzing what is wrong or right she cannot do. She is in limbo.

Now, that she is under Thaddeus' command, and Thaddeus is working against Viltrum, his wants and desires become her own. if he points at Earth and says go make nice with Earth and teach Mark how to fight, she will do both to the best of her ability.

When she arrives (Between Season 2 and 3) she is still within this mindset, and has not had enough life experience to form her own solid opinion. Therefore, she falls back on her orders.

You are an emissary. Appease the leaders of Earth. Strengthen its ties to the Coalition.

You need to ready Mark for war.

I think she would not even be focusing on the essence of the conflict at this time. She would be playing meditator as best as she can. She is not going to condemn Cecil, that would not appease him. She is not going to stop Mark, she needs him.

I think she would definitely try and stop the whole Mark and Cecil confrontation because it would but a hindrance on the mission, but deep down, her baby conscience is starting to try and ponder on why these men are acting the way they are.

Aren't they on the same side?

Oh Mar Mar, being introduced to individuality and differing mindsets. One day, you will understand.

Also! She Meets Mark first! Thaddeus makes the mistake of letting Allen take charge in directing her where to go, and how to go about introducing herself-- the man who can barely read. He also doesn't know that she is a Viltrumite, and the GDA has definitely set up bio scanners to see if any enter the atmosphere.

Cue, I'm entering the atmosphere, let me look at my watch to see where I'm going, oh, someone is literally gunning it toward me and isn't stopping, okay It looks like I'm going to be attacked.

They have a skirmish. Mark doesn't let up until Amara mentions Allen's name, cause she's a smart cookie. Mark has to call off the hammer being brought down. Then, she meets Cecil and is shoved in a huge ass van with the biggest fucking convoy following behind.

Hooray!

AND HER HAIR! Oh everyone loves her hair. I am so glad for it because it is like, my favorite feature of hers-- that and her boba eyes.

I love u :<

[shslbunnylover]

Could you do a chessy X reader where the reader is the ranch hand/horse caretaker for the vineyard and one day the reader has an accident with one of the horses and chessy is the only one around to save her? Fluff and angst would be perfect!

★ ★ ★ Kiss it better ★ ★ ★

Character: Chessy

Summary: When a particularly difficult to handle horse knocks you unconscious, Chessy can't help but fuss over you, leading to some new developments in your seemingly platonic relationship

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1

Trigger Warnings: Horse accident, blood, unconsciousness,

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Author's Note: LET'S GO ANOTHER REQUEST DOWN!! >:3

Word Count: 3.23k

Working at the Parker Knoll Vineyard definitely had its upsides, great pay, working with your favorite animal all day, and the nice solitude that came with working alone on the long acres covered in grapevines (Seriously, this dude is loaded, how does he not have more hostlers??).

“Bye Chessy!” You heard a voice come out from the mansion, whom you assumed to be Annie by her British accent.

And there was your favorite part of working on the Parker Knoll. The housekeeper.

Chessy, to you at least, could be described as one of the most beautiful people you've ever met both inside and out.

No matter how much you'd try to deny yourself of your crush, it never seemed to work, and you'd always end up dreaming about the brunette.

“Alright, you four have fun!” You heard Chessy exclaim, waving the kids and their parents away as they walked out the door with their suitcases

You looked back at the mansion that was about an acre off from the area you were standing in before turning back, laughing to yourself as you saw Chessy chasing after the twins while their parents packed up.

Jesus Christ that woman was cute.

Turning back, you put the music back on your walkman before continuing your work on changing the horseshoes for Nick's steed.

You had been hired at the Parker Knoll Vineyard around 5 months after you graduated college with your bachelor equine degree, and when you moved to Napa, you began applying for as many jobs as possible.

When you found an advertisement in the paper for a job at a successful winery a few weeks later, specifically looking for a hostler and stable caretaker, you were overjoyed to find yourself beginning the application process.

Always being a horse person, you found your comfort in the stables of every ranch you had ever worked at starting in your mid-teens.

Sure they smelled like literal horse shit, but you loved to see how free spirited these creatures were. You were pretty much convinced that they were ethereal beings when they were left off the reins for a minute.

You had gotten into a few minor accidents in your early years of being an equestrian and a hostler (even though they weren't really minor and ended up with you getting a sprained ankle), but you'd learned from those mistakes, and now considered yourself well acquainted with the creatures you adored.

To you, finding your equestrian themed job at the Parker Knoll was the true start of your independent life, and you wouldn't have had it any other way.

“Where the hell did Nick put the horseshoes?” You looked around, attempting to find the object as Nick had rearranged the entire stable, leaving you confused as to where everything was.

You sighed, finally picking up the metal horseshoe to place them on the horse, who always gave you a pretty hard time when it came to changing his racing plates.

“Settle down boy…” You pet the much larger creature, trying to soothe the frazzled horse as you tried to pick up his leg.

The horse neighed violently, his tail swishing up and hitting you in the face.

You sighed, still trying to calm the creature.

“Come on sweetheart, I need you to work with me,” You cooed, petting the horse as you went to bend down.

But before you could even get fully to your position to change the plate, a hard force slammed straight into your face, knocking your body to the ground with a broken nose and definitely some other injuries.

You hit the ground, your breath being knocked out of you from the force of the creature's hoof shoving you to the dirty floor.

You cried out in pain louder than you thought, your body laying on the ground as your nose bled violently down your face. Your eyes began to go blurry, and you gripped the ground.

Your nails dug against the finished wood, your mind trying to fight the overcoming blacked out state. You had handled this before, you could do it again. It's not like this horse was pretty much 3 times your size. You could handle it.

Attempting to tilt your head up, a sharp pain shot through your body starting at your nose and spreading to the rest of your form.

“Fuck!” You cried, beginning to feel your body succumb to unconsciousness as the paralyzing feeling coursed through your blood and muscles, leaving you to pass out on the hay covered floor of the stables.

You weren't sure just how loud or for how long you'd cried out, but you knew it was loud enough for someone to hear, because just before you passed out, you saw a flash of brown and blue over your body before it all went black.

Chessy stood over you, freaking out as she propped your body up onto her own, her hand that wasn't holding your back up moving to hold your legs.

When she heard you scream from inside the house, she had dropped everything and ran to the stables to find you.

“Y/N??” She tried to wake you up, holding your nose with the sleeve of her jacket she had taken off to try and stop the bleeding. “Y/N wake up!” Chessy exclaimed, beginning to tear up as her breathing increased.

She already had shaky breathing from her running all the way to the stables from the house in less than 2 minutes, and now her upcoming panic attack over seeing you knocked out only caused her heart and breathing to race even more.

She moved her hand from under your legs and placed two fingers on your neck, a small cry of relief leaving her lips as she felt your pulse.

You laid in her arms, your body limp with shaky breathing, you looked so small in her arms even though she herself was smaller than you.

“Fucking Christ-” She held you tightly, hyperventilating beyond belief at the mere thought of losing you. God she couldn't lose you. “Stay with me sweetheart, please-”

She held you tightly in her arms, and it felt like her world was collapsing. She was terrified of losing the people she cared about, but if she lost you…she wouldn't know what to do with her life.

She loved you dearly, even if she didn't think you felt the same way.

Chessy scooped you up fully into her arms bridal style, and she kept trying to wake you up for a few solid minutes through choked out sobs.

When she saw your body begin to twitch, she stood up with you in her arms, making sure the horse was locked up before rushing you into the house.

A course of pain flushed through your body as you woke up, and a small grunt escaped your lips.

“Shit-” You grimaced, your hand sliding against the surface beneath you, your eyes widening when you felt the fabric of a bed instead of the furnished wood that you had collapsed onto.

You looked around, your eyes scanning your surroundings.

This wasn't your room.

“What the…where am I…?” You muttered, recognizing the land out the window, knowing you were back in the mansion, but where in it?

“Be careful sweetheart,” You saw Chessy immediately run in, her eyes red and puffy from what seemed like crying, she had a bottle of water in her hands with a corresponding bottle of medicine.

“Chessy?” You muttered, your head tilting to face her.

“Oh thank God you're awake,” Chessy sat on the bed, kissing your forehead before picking you up with surprisingly strong arms.

Your cheeks scattered a bright red, and you barely managed to stutter out a response.

“W-Where am I?”

Chessy propped you up onto by far the largest amount of pillows you had ever seen, allowing for your body to sink softly as if it was on a cloud.

“You're in my room, hon,” Chessy caressed your cheek. “I heard you scream and…” She trailed off, trying to remove the image of the person she cared about so much in that much pain out of her head. “I took you back to my room after I found you so I could take care of you,”

Your head turned to the right, and you noticed a whole tray of supplies on her nightstand, the books previously there now thrown onto the floor next to it.

The tray consisted of a fresh ice pack wrapped in a soft white towel for your nose, cotton balls to soak up the blood escaping your nostrils, band-aids for the scratches on your body you had suffered from the fall, and a bottle of cold water and some fruit in a bowl.

A small cold drop on your nose knocked you out of your small daze, and you realized that your nose wasn't in as much pain as before, which you realized was the case because Chessy had another towel-wrapped ice pack in your nose already.

“Chessy- You don't have to do all of this, I'm fine,” You murmured, still in a lot of pain and in no mood to actually stand up and protest, so you just let whatever the woman do what she wanted to your injured frame.

“No, you're injured, and you scared the shit out of me,” She shot a small glare, causing the blush on your cheeks to darken. “I'm taking care of you,”

You sighed, leaning your head back, too tired to fight.

“Fine…if you say so,” You grimaced.

Chessy’s glare softened, and she moved a few strands of hair away from your face and kissed your forehead.

“Oh hon, I'm so glad you're okay…I don't know what I would have done if I lost you,” The brunette sniffled, wiping her eyes with the non blood-covered sleeve of her jean jacket.

You blushed at her concern, your lips forming a small smile.

“I was going to be fine, just a little accident,” You chuckled.

Chessy frowned at you.

“Y/N, you were unconscious,” The shorter woman said sternly, pulling her glasses back on top of her head.

“I know- But I didn't die?” You attempted to assure her, cursing yourself when she only teared up more.

“I can't lose you sweetheart, I love you too much,” The brown eyed woman blushed, cupping your chin.

A small stutter escaped your lips at the mention of the word ‘love’.

“You're not losing me that quickly,” You chuckled, trying to dismiss the words that left Chessy's mouth.

Chessy smiled back at you.

“I know…” She chuckled, looking down at your form. “Oh hon, why don't I get you all cleaned up?” She cooed, placing a hand overtop of yours.

Your eyes widened, and you stuttered.

“H-Huh?”

“Can I change you out of these clothes hon?” The brunette asked.

“N-No, Chessy it's okay, I can go back to-”

You're cut off by Chessy crossing her arms and looking down at you with a raised eyebrow.

“That wasn't what I asked, I asked if I could change you into something comfortable,” She then put her hands on her hips.

You bit back a blush, and you simply nodded.

“Please…” You murmured.

Chessy smiled softly, walking out of the room and returning with one of her hoodies and pairs of sweatpants before stripping you of your uncomfortable riding gear.

Your cheeks heated up at the exposure of your skin, and you let out a sigh as Chessy took off your knee and elbow pads.

She looked at you with a smile, laughing at your relaxation.

“I knew you needed a break from the gear,” She chuckled, taking a few baby wipes and wiping down your body with them.

Your head leaned back, every muscle in your body relaxing at the touch of the wipe clearing off any sense of dirt.

“Thank you for this, Chess,” You hummed.

“Anything for you, baby,” The brunette smiled, placing her hoodie onto your body before sliding her sweatpants over your legs.

“Are you sure I'm not taking you away from your job?” You asked her, holding onto a pillow that was resting next to you.

“What do you mean sweetheart? I'm doing my job right now?” Chessy looked at you, taking her fingers and running her digits through your hair softly, taking it out of the ponytail it was in.

You chuckled.

“You're too good to me Chessy,”

“No I'm not, now be a good girl and stay still while I bandage you up, okay hon?” She instructed, beginning to apply some petroleum jelly onto the small scratches across your arms.

The nickname made something inside you flutter, and you immediately nodded, desperate to hear her praise you again. You just wanted to hear her want you.

“Good girl,” She repeated, rubbing in the jelly before taking the now lukewarm ice pack off of your nose and replacing it with the freshly cold one.

As she waited for the jelly to settle in, she wiped off the final remaining drops of blood off of your philtrum, tossing the last cotton ball away as the blood had finally dried up.

Another smile came back to your face as you heard her praise.

“Where did the Parker's all go?” You asked.

“They went up to that mountain cabin Nick just bought a few weeks ago, they'll be gone until around Wednesday,” Chessy replied.

“So…it's just us?” You asked.

“Us and Sammy,” She chuckled, hearing the dog bark downstairs.

“Speak of the devil,” You laughed. “I think he does need to be fed,” You checked the clock on her nightstand and saw it was Sammy's feeding time.

“You're right,” Chessy laughed, giving you a kiss on the forehead before standing up. “I will be right back, hon, and then I'll put the band-aids on now since the jelly will have settled.

You nodded at her, waving her off.

“Take your time, Chess,” You smiled.

Chessy quickly walked downstairs, and you could hear her playing with Sammy before the sound of his food bowl being filled with kibble filled your ears.

You laid in bed, waiting for the housekeeper’s return, nuzzling into her hoodie and engulfing your nose in her smell. Her hoodie smelled like fresh cinnamon and shampoo, matching the scent you had smelled when she had leaned in to kiss you on the forehead.

Her hoodie and sweatpants were warm, as if she had just gotten it out of the dryer, yet somehow it already smelled like her.

What Chessy knew that you didn't, however, was that she sprayed her perfume on the hoodie and sweatpants, secretly knowing just how much you adored her scent. I mean, she couldn't blame you, it was a nice perfume she wore, and when surrounded with literal horse shit all day, it wasn't hard to find a scent that you liked over that.

Chessy returned as you had your face buried in the hoodie, and she smiled as she closed the door.

“Aww…Sweetheart you look adorable…” The older woman cooed, kissing your forehead as she sat next to you on her bed.

She took your left arm, beginning to apply the bandages to your scratches.

You blushed at how warm and fuzzy the princess treatment you were receiving made you feel, and you laid your head on her shoulder.

“Your hoodie is so warm…” You smiled.

“I know hon, I took it out of the dryer just for you,” Chessy chuckled.

Of *course* she did. That's why you fell in love with her. She was the most considerate woman you had ever met, and she made you feel like a princess no matter how bad you were feeling that day.

“You're amazing, Chessy,” You laughed, looking at her as she finished with the first arm before moving to the next.

“Not as amazing as you, hon,” The older woman looked at you with the same pure adoration in her eyes she always showed to you every time she saw you.

When she finished with the other arm, you turned your body and cuddled into the older woman, your arms snaking around her waist as you clung to her.

“You're definitely more amazing than me,” You insisted, amused at the small banter you always ended up having on who was more amazing.

Chessy chuckled and took a bottle of water, putting it up to your lips, urging you to drink, which you did.

“Drink up sweetheart…” Chessy smiled, holding your chin up with her fingers as you drank it halfway.

When Chessy took the bottle away, she quickly replaced it with a granola bar she had opened, encouraging you to take small bites before placing the empty wrapper in the trash can before putting the other one next to the half-empty bottle of water.

“Why don't we watch some Clueless, huh? I want you to rest right here and I know that you like that movie,” The older woman suggested, scooping you up just a little and pulling you closer to her body.

“Really? You'd watch it with me?” You asked, smiling up at her with excited eyes, adjusting a bit as your body was still sore.

Chessy nodded.

“Of course, baby, hold on one second,” She picked up another instant ice pack and broke it in, placing two of them on separate sore spots of your body, a soft look in her eyes forming as she watched you relax from the ice packs soothing your pain.

“Thank you Chess…” You mumbled with a blush on your face.

“Anything for you, Y/N,” She hummed, putting on the movie and holding onto you gently.

You nuzzled into her chest as the intro to Clueless played in the background, but you were more focused on the woman holding you than the movie.

A few minutes passed and you thought about everything that had happened just in the span of two and a half hours. The accident sucked, definitely, but it resulted in you cuddling up with the woman you were so madly in love with, the same woman who you didn't know was madly in love with you too.

A sudden surge of confidence pulsed through your brain, and you pulled Chessy in for a sudden but short kiss on the lips.

“I love you, Chessy,” You blurted, sitting up a bit more now as you looked her dead in the eyes, waiting for her response.

Chessy looked at you in shock, and after a moment of silence she laughed softly.

‘Shit, I just messed it all up,’ You thought, your eyes widening in horror and pure embarrassment.

Before you could say anything however, your thoughts were very suddenly cut off by Chessy's lips on yours.

The kiss was much longer this time, and you broke away after what seemed like ages with your lips locked together.

“I love you too Y/N, since the first day I met you,” Chessy smiled, tears forming in her eyes.

You wiped her tears with her thumb.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” You asked with a shaky smile, your own tears starting to form

“More than anything, my love,” Chessy kissed you once again, pulling you into her body and meshing your forms together like puzzle pieces that were always destined to fit with one another, where she held you for the rest of the night.

If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3

-Akira

[cozage]

Hi. How are you? Congratulations! Can I please have an option 1? How about Law, Zoro, Sanji, Luffy, Sabo and Ace (feel free to pick and choose) teaching a s/o (preferably female) how to fight? Like Zoro teaching the reader to sword fight or Sanji teaching his to use black leg. Thank you 💙🤍💙🤍

Omg girlie hey!!! How have you been?!!? Good I hope <3 

Send me an event request!

Characters: gn reader x Ace, Zoro, Sanji, Luffy Total word count: 650

Teaching Moments

Ace

Literally so patient and such a good teacher but works you to the bone. He forgets that you are new at this and he has been training since he was born.

Hand-to-hand combat isn’t necessarily your strong suit, but he figures out you're quite good with a pipe. 

He is also very good at fighting with a pipe (is there anything this man is bad at?!?!)

He won’t pull punches or go easy on you just because he loves you. You will crawl away from your training sessions with bruises and cuts all over your body.

After your sessions, he’ll walk with you to Marco to get healed up, and then he’ll give you a really nice, warm massage to loosen up your muscles. That alone makes your training day worth it. 

You sometimes feel like you’re not making any progress, but when you start fighting people who aren’t Ace, you realize you’re much better than most of them. Fighting the best of the best really has its perks.

Zoro

Zoro is a good teacher…most of the time. 

He gets frustrated easily when you don’t follow instructions, and expects you to come in with basic sword skills, but you don’t have any. 

You have to remind him that not everyone grew up in a dojo, where they learned about swords morning, noon, and night. After he learns that, he takes you back to the beginning, teaching you in a new light. 

He returns to the bamboo stick and the formations, and suddenly he becomes happier, laughing more with you and telling you about his childhood at the dojo. Every skill you learn is paired with a “Well when I was a kid…” story, and it warms your heart. 

He takes you to a store to get your own swords. He definitely believes that you need to pick your own sword. He gives you pointers and advice, but he mostly leaves it up to you. He knows how important of a decision it is, and he won't interfere with fate.

He takes it easy on you. He can skillfully decipher just how much he needs to pressure you to get you to continue to grow.

Zoro doesn't understand much in his life, but he does understand two things: swords and you.

Sanji

Sanji. Bless his heart. He is not a good teacher. 

He goes too easy on you and treats you like you’re too fragile.

It actually begins to put a bit of a strain on your relationship because it feels like he doesn’t think you’re capable of fighting the way he does.

In reality, he just doesn’t think a lady needs to fight. And he certainly doesn’t want to hurt you during training. He can’t hit a lady, even to defend himself.

He wants you to learn, and you know he’s not being rude or malicious, but in order to save your relationship, you end up finding another fighting instructor. 

Instead of fighting, you help him prepare meals. And thankfully, he’s more than happy to let you help him do kitchen prep. 

Luffy

Luffy is…Luffy. 

Your training sessions always start out strong. He’s surprisingly good at giving you pointers (“raise your elbow” or “a right hook would’ve been better than a direct attack right there”)

Sometimes he forgets that not everyone has gum-gum powers. He’ll advise you to fling your body towards your opponents and you’ll just kind of deadpan and wait for him to realize his mistake, which always leads to a fit of giggles from you both. 

Training sessions never last long. You guys always get distracted by someone or something, or you all get hungry or start chasing each other around, laughing and playing another game. 

It’s always fun, you’re just never sure how much you’re actually learning. Sometimes you get irritated and think neither of you are taking it seriously, but Luffy’s way of life is “if it’s not fun, we shouldn’t do it”. 

Little do you realize, he’s actually training you through the games you all play, and the mischief you guys get into. He’s a pretty good teacher overall. 

[nikosaki]

Please may I request Yandere fyodor with a reader who’s in love with dazai. Thank you, have a nice day/night

Yandere fyodor with reader crushing over Dazai

Summary: Uh oh! Having fyodor as someone who is obesesed with you and then going for dazai? Tsk tsk what a foolish bird you are!

Genre: yandere, dark content

Warnings: dark themes, manipulation, bite marks, gaslighting,

a/n: reader has some nerve to even look at dazai if it’s yandere fyodor💀

Oh hell naw- 💀

You think having a yandere Russian man stalking you 24/7 is not enough so much that you went to crush over another crazy maniac

Well lets be clear first, let’s say reader is in the Rats in the house of the dead then it would cause more conflict especially between the two geniuses.

Fyodor already has a whole chess game prepared now he wants his doll to play with?

Fyodor knows what goes on your head you can tell too whenever his eyes narrow when your feeling nervous, excited or sad, he know everything

Perhaps it was his mistake of introducing dazai to you, his darling was just so curious!

But fyodor knows he know whenever your eyes had this small form of heart whenever he talked about him or showed his picture.

It became worse when you and dazai met the first time, oh golly-

I am pretty sure dazai already knew about how you love him and though at first he thought he could use you, you look like quite the peculiar person.

Having the demons doll wrapped around his finger is such a great way to provoke him

Dazai is a smooth charmer just like fyodor, he probably takes things further each time you two meet

One time he would say soothing words, another kissing the back of your hand, complimenting your work, and maybe at times leaving a trace of him on you intentionally.

Maybe even going far as leaving a mark on you though I doubt fyodor would allow that.

If anything fyodor got pretty angry when he found out you two even interacted! How dare his doll chase after another man

Foe now he will let you ran into the man you love but when he confronts you a bout it..I hope you will be both physically and mentally prepared.

Dont look at me like that! Fyodor is a sadist and he loves punishing you whether it’s mentally or sexually.

I do think he would lock you in a room for days with no sunlight rather than do physical punishment. What will you blame him on? Touching you?

You can’t really it’s your fault, why did you ran into his arms, do you not know who you belong to? Do you want to leave him? Is he not enough for you?

All sorts of manipulation tactics will be used against you and at the end you will become more submissive.

I am pretty sure if dazai by any chance falls in love with you it would be better for fyodor, why does he need to be angry? disturbing Dazai by any way makes his ego grow!

Two birds with one stone.

In the end you will be far too of a lifeless doll who learned its lesson from living in a dim cell for far too long. How many days has it been? You do not know but atleast fyodor didn’t abandon you.

A/N: not proud of it too much *sigh*

[mw00nie]

Shoulder to shoulder: chapter 2

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w.c: 4.3k

summary: Jake runs into Y/N at a busy coffee shop, and the two end up sharing an easy, fun conversation over coffee. The meeting leaves Jake feeling a little lighter and thinking about her long after she’s gone.

A/N: English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes that may have occurred. This chapter did not take a long time to write; I'm just lazy and forget words a lot😭😭 anyways, enjoy :))

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Jake had been riding the subway a little earlier than usual these days, hoping for another chance encounter with Y/N. He told himself it wasn’t deliberate. But deep down, he couldn’t deny that seeing her made his mornings just a little brighter.

However, as luck would have it, their next meeting didn’t happen on the subway. Instead, it was at a small coffee shop near the precinct, a spot Jake frequented for its strong coffee and decent pastries.

The café was buzzing that afternoon, the line snaking toward the door. Jake stepped in, already planning his order. He was midway through mentally debating between a croissant or a muffin when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Detective Peralta?”

Jake turned around, his heart skipping a beat. There she was—Y/N, holding a bag slung over her shoulder and a slightly surprised smile on her face.

“Y/N! Hey!” Jake said, trying to sound casual but probably failing. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting coffee,” she said with a small laugh, gesturing to the line. “Same as you, I guess.”

“Best coffee in the area,” Jake said, stepping aside to let her join the line behind him. “You come here often?”

“Yeah, it’s my go-to spot when I’m working late,” Y/N replied. “What about you? Didn’t peg you as a coffee shop kind of guy.”

“Gotta fuel the crime-fighting machine,” Jake joked, earning a soft chuckle from her.

The line moved slowly, giving them plenty of time to chat. Jake found himself relaxing more with every exchange. Y/N talked about her latest design project, and Jake regaled her with a dramatic (and slightly exaggerated) retelling of a recent case involving a stolen bakery truck.

When they reached the counter, Y/N stepped forward to order first. Jake instinctively reached for his wallet, but Y/N caught him.

“Don’t even think about it,” she said with a mock-serious glare.

“What? I wasn’t—okay, maybe I was,” Jake admitted, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Nice try,” she said, pulling out her card. “But I can buy my own coffee, Detective.”

“Fair enough,” Jake said, grinning as she paid for her drink.

After Jake ordered his usual, they found a small table near the window. The sun streamed in, casting a warm glow over the café.

“So,” Y/N said, stirring her coffee. “Does your job always involve catching criminals and saving people’s glasses?”

Jake leaned back in his chair. “Not always. Sometimes it’s just paperwork and arguing with my captain about how Die Hard is the best Christmas movie of all time.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You’re really passionate about that, huh?”

“It’s not just a movie,” Jake said, feigning offense. “It’s a way of life.”

She laughed, and Jake couldn’t help but feel like he’d just scored some major points.

As they chatted, Jake found himself learning more about her. She told him about her love for art museums, her favorite spots in the city, and how she once stayed up all night finishing a design project only to have her client change their mind the next morning.

“Wow,” Jake said, shaking his head. “That’s brutal. But also, kind of impressive. You’re like the graphic design version of a detective—solving problems under pressure.”

“Maybe,” Y/N said with a small smile. “Though I doubt my work is as exciting as yours.”

“You’d be surprised,” Jake said. “But honestly, I think it’s cool. You’re passionate about what you do. That’s rare.”

Y/N glanced at her watch and sighed. “Speaking of work, I should probably get going. Deadlines don’t wait.”

Jake nodded, trying not to let his disappointment show. “Of course. Thanks for letting me crash your coffee break.”

“Crash it? You made it way more fun,” she said, standing up and grabbing her bag.

Jake smiled. “Well, in that case, I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

“See you around, Detective Peralta,” she said, giving him a small wave as she walked out the door.

Jake watched her leave, still smiling—until it hit him. His eyes widened, and he smacked his forehead with his palm.

“I didn’t ask for her number,” he muttered, slumping back into his chair.

He replayed the entire conversation in his head, kicking himself for not thinking of it sooner. “Come on, Peralta. You’re a detective! How did you let that slip?”

For the rest of the day, Jake couldn’t stop replaying the moment she’d walked out the door. But as much as he berated himself, he couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope. This wasn’t the last time he’d see her.

At least, he hoped it wasn’t.

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A/N: Again, feedback is always appreciated, and chapter 3 should be coming soon. 🙏🙏🙏