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#neither of these pictures are particularly good i think but i was there and that counts for something
crossbackpoke-check · 1 month
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BERGGY HAT TRICK NIGHT 🚨🚨🚨
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lecsainz · 6 months
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A headcanon of Percy Jackson x reader daughter of Zeus, where he has been in love since the first day he saw her, and he had also recently arrived at the camp, please
˒ ⌕ SHE IS LIKE THUNDER
parings: percy jackson x zeus!reader
an:I know I disappeared, forgive me 🤧, but picture me writing this at 3 AM, dying of sleepiness after watching the last episode of PJO, AND ANNIE USED THE NICKNAME 😭 THIS EPISODE IS STILL TOO MUCH FOR ME TO PROCESS!!!!
summary: the one where you're a daughter of zeus, exploring your relationship with percy.
( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )
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You and Percy crossed paths during one of your training sessions. Luke was giving Percy a tour of the camp, and when Percy laid eyes on you, he halted abruptly, as if struck by lightning. For some inexplicable reason, he felt an urgent need to know who you were, as if the gods themselves demanded it.
Percy's eyes widened as he observed you from across the training grounds. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing a finger in your direction. Luke suppressed a chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Her? Oh, that's Y/N, daughter of Zeus." Percy squinted, trying to decipher your actions, as you accidentally summoned a small lightning bolt that fizzled out near your feet. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Does that happen often?" Luke grinned. "Only when she's particularly excited, which, by the way, is most of the time. You should see her during thunderstorms!" Percy blinked, watching as you waved sheepishly, causing another faint spark to crackle in the air.
You and Percy found common ground in venting about the gods upon his arrival.
"Hey, little thunder, how's it going?" Percy grinned. "Don't call me that," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. "I'm good too, thanks for asking, Lightning Rod," Percy joked, emphasizing his newfound nickname for you.
Attempts at using your powers together proved futile, as water and electricity didn't exactly make for a harmonious combination.
According to Percy, Cabin 3 was way too big for just him, and assuming you felt the same way about Cabin 1, he started a tradition. At 12:00, he'd show up at your cabin, asking to share it, turning into a routine of hosting pajama parties in each other's cabins.
After you discovered that your half-sister, Thalia, had been turned into a pine tree to save her, Percy couldn't resist teasing you about it.
"Do you think your dad would turn you into, what, a fountain? Or maybe a cherry blossom tree would suit you?" Percy grinned, enjoying the opportunity to rib you. "Jackson, shut up," you retorted, rolling your eyes at his antics. Later, when Grover and Annabeth intervened, trying to keep you two from frying each other, Percy couldn't resist a parting shot. He had soaked you with water from a nearby forest stream during the mission, leaving you drenched and fueling your desire to electrocute him. "Next time you want to electrocute Percy, make sure I'm not around," Annabeth teased as they separated you, noticing your soaked state. Grover, being the peacekeeper, started singing the song of friendship, encouraging both of you to hug it out and apologize. Percy, however, observed that you were shivering from the cold as you walked. Realizing this, he handed you his jacket, concerned. "You'll catch a cold if you stay wet like this," he said, offering you warmth amidst the chilly aftermath of your water-based altercation.
Since neither you nor Percy admit to having feelings for each other, you find yourselves in constant teasing and banter.
During a mission, you two start a squabble because you want to lead everything, and he just wants to do his thing or isn't paying attention to what you're saying. Grover and Annabeth exchange glances, seeking a way to mediate.
It takes a long time before you muster the courage to admit you have feelings for the son of Poseidon. You decide to confess first because, knowing Percy, it would take ages if you waited for him.
"Percy, I need to talk in case we don't get out of here." "Spark Plug, we're getting out of here; trust me." "I like you, Seaweed Brain." He stands there in shock, mouth hanging open, unable to believe that you like him back.
After Percy managed to confess that he also liked you, you enjoyed teasing him about his stunned reaction. But deep down, you were terrified that he might have said he didn't like you back.
Percy becomes incredibly protective of you.
"Touch her, and you'll be dead."
You love stormy days and spend hours on the beach with Percy because he can control the water, ensuring you both stay dry.
"Isn't it beautiful?" "What, little storm?" You pause, gazing out at the tumultuous sea, the waves crashing against the shore. "It's like the ocean is in harmony with this storm. It's as if they understand each other, finding peace in the chaos." "Maybe," Percy finally responds, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Maybe storms and the sea have a way of finding peace in chaos because they understand that even in the wildest moments, there's a certain kind of order."
You appreciate the profound simplicity of his words, and in that moment, he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. For the first time in a long while, you feel at home
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reverie-starlight · 1 month
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nia, you’ve inspired me to write this with that sleepover question you asked abt me n atsumu a while ago 🫶🏻🫶🏻 I live soley to bug him. it’s my favourite hobby. @luvring
gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff.
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the faint humming of the television as it played whatever movie had been reduced to background noise is the only sound in your apartment’s tiny living room.
you’re laying on top of atsumu, who’s holding you so tightly against him to make sure you don’t roll off and hit the floor. it had been a lovely day together, going out for lunch and then spending the day at your place playing video games and watching movies. you had even attempted to cook dinner together (a task neither of you are particularly good at, but the simple Italian recipe you found seemed to work out well). you’ve been “sleeping” on his chest for the past half hour, but if you’re being honest, you’re slightly more awake than you’re pretending to be.
according to the clock on your wall, it’s 9:30. which means atsumu has to start heading home soon. it’s the time he set for himself and he’s always so good at keeping his schedule, but you don’t want him to go just yet.
…or at all.
you stay perfectly still on top of him without tensing up too much to avoid suspicion, hoping he’ll just forget and stay the night. with the way he’s gently rubbing one of his hands up and down the skin of your back, you almost fall asleep in his arms for real. but then you feel him slow to a stop.
he pulls his hand out from under your shirt, slowly, you assume it’s so he doesn’t ‘wake you up’, and sighs. you can just picture him checking his phone and realizing, so you do what any scheming partner would- you pretend to wrap your arms around him tighter and nuzzle into him in your sleep.
but atsumu’s observant. he knows you’re not actually sleeping (your breathing hadn’t quite evened out yet) but you are getting there, so he dares to disrupt the serene environment and kisses your forehead to soften the blow.
“baby,” he says, and you immediately shake your head in protest. “ya gotta move, sweetheart. it’s time for me to go.”
“noooo,” you whine, and he thinks it’s the cutest sound he’s ever heard.
he knows you don’t want him to leave just as much as he doesn’t want to leave either, but even though he hates the very idea of it, he has to be up early for practice and you live a bit further away than he’s willing to accommodate for on such short notice.
you nuzzle into his neck a bit more and he sighs again. “angel, please?”
you tilt your head up to look at him and he worries about the angle your neck is twisting at. he brings a hand up to cup the back of your head to keep you from moving it any more.
“‘tsum, please stay?”
turns out you were closer to falling asleep than he anticipated. your voice is so soft and clearly riddled with sleep that he almost caves.
but then he remembers last time this happened and how he had to wake up at 4:30 to make it back to his own apartment to shower, change and pack his gym bag.
and he shudders.
“lovebug, ya know I wish I could, but I really can’t this time. can ya let me up?”
you grumble a bit at the nickname, peering up to glare at him, and he thinks you’re really going to give in, but instead you just lock your legs tight around his.
of course you’re not making this easy for him. when do you ever?
“baby!” he can’t help but laugh, because he absolutely adores you for it.
“you can’t leave if you can’t move,” is what he thinks he hears muffled against his chest.
“that a challenge?”
you shrug and he just scoffs.
“cause if it is… I think we both know how quickly you’d be proven wrong.”
it’s true and you do in fact know it, but you’re just desperate enough to delude yourself into thinking you could keep him down with sheer determination alone.
so when you hold your ground and get defeated in milliseconds by him manhandling you and carrying you to your room, it’s a good thing you have a backup plan ready.
“okay, okay! you win, so your prize is taking me home with you for a sleepover at your place!”
he freezes just as he’s about to dump you on your bed (and presumably tuck you in so you don’t try and jump him on his way out like you have many times before).
atsumu wonders why he hadn’t thought of that as he breaks out into a wide grin. he curls you closer towards him and presses kisses all over your face and neck. “you and your beautiful brain! Oh I love ya so much,” and then he drops you onto the bed. “pack a bag, you’re comin’ over.”
ten minutes later, you’re out the door and no longer tired. it’s a struggle to lock your door when you’re still slung over his shoulder and trying not to laugh so loud that you wake up your neighbours, but like most other situations, he’s there to keep you steady.
“take your time babe, not like we’re in a rush,” he teases while swaying back and forth to make things harder.
you feel delirious, from love or being held upside down you’re not quite sure, but you giggle some more and smack his back. “‘atsumu, come on.”
he relents and soon enough you’re in his bed, playing with his hair. the roles seem to have reversed, because now he’s the sleepy one and you’re admiring the view.
you feel his breath tickle your neck and the goosebumps that follow. he nuzzles into you further and you can feel the movement of his lips when he says “we should have a forever sleepover.”
you turn into a puddle of goo. “yeah? you want to spend every night together?”
he nods and grumbles when you move your hand away from his hair. “wan’ ya with me every night. wanna come home to ya. and I wanna be the first thing ya see when you get home too.”
you coo at your sleepy golden retriever of a boyfriend and he hides his face against your shoulder. “you’re adorable when you’re tired, baby.”
“not as cute as you were earlier, that’s for sure.”
you smile and press a kiss to his scalp before forming a response for his unofficial proposal to move in together.
it’s not as though you haven’t thought about it. it’s constantly on your mind, especially since staying at his place has started to feel less like being a guest and more like an extension of your own home.
if he were to ask you properly, you would most definitely say yes, but since he’s half asleep and most likely doesn’t realize what he’s insinuating…
“we’ll talk about it more tomorrow after you get back from practice. sleep, angel, it’s late. I love you,” you whisper.
he nods a little and repeats the sentiment in a soft, slurred murmur before nodding off for the night.
you’re sure to hug him a little tighter as you drift off soon after and dream of him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
cheesy ending, but I’m feeling soft for him :( so can you really blame me??
tagging some more lovely people :3 @emmyrosee @dira333
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moonstruckme · 8 months
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hi lovely!! i love your writing sm, was wondering if i could request poly! marauders x shy! reader!! like they try to fluster her whenever they can, maybe leading to smut? totally okay if not, just thought i’d ask, hope you’re well <3
Thanks for requesting!
poly!marauders x shy!reader ♡ 625 words
“He-llo, gorgeous,” Sirius says as you walk into the boys’ dorm, and you know instantly that it’s going to be a trying afternoon. “Who gave you permission to look that good on a Tuesday, huh?”
You feel blood rush to your face, but you put all the severity you can into one word as you sit on Remus’ bed, far as you can get from your smirking boyfriend. “Quit.” 
You should have known it would only encourage him. Sirius arches one eyebrow, smile spreading like a blight across his pretty face. “Oh I see. Feeling bold today, are we? Wanna repeat that, pretty girl?” 
You don’t, actually. Your daily quota of boldness has hit its limit.
Sirius is downright gleeful at your silence. “Aw, come on. I love it when you boss me around, sweetheart. Moony, isn’t she cute when she tells us what to do?” 
“I wouldn’t know.” Remus’ voice is quiet behind you, lilting in that way it gets when he’s particularly amused. “She never does it with me.” 
James laughs from where he’s digging through his wardrobe, fishing out a pair of sweats to change into from his robes. “Only you, Pads. You’re the only one who pushes her that far.” 
“Mm, but she gives up too easily.” You can hear the pout in Sirius’ voice, can feel his stare boring into the top of your head, but you don’t look up from where you’ve begun picking your nails. 
“Hey.” Remus’ hand wraps around yours, shielding your fingertips from one another. You tense. “Don’t do that.” 
“Sorry,” you say, but the word is barely audible, barely more than breath. 
“What was that?” You can feel him shifting around you on the bed. When you still won’t look up, he slides to the floor, crouching in front of you to capture your eyes. “Look at me, darling.” 
You do, for the half of a second it takes for him to smirk, and then you realize his game, the sneaky bastard. You can feel your heartbeat in your face. You know you have to be red as a stop sign, but neither Remus or Sirius will heed you. 
You look to James, your softhearted angel, for help. Remus chuckles, hand flattening against the side of your knee to rub soothingly, but you know better than to fall for that now. After a few moments of silence, James glances over. His eyes soften into warm brown mush when he sees the plea on your face. 
“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos, forgoing his search for a shirt and opening his arms as he comes your way. “Are they being cruel?” 
You’re not ready to commit to slander, but you accept his hug readily. He steals you from Remus’ grasp, taking you into his hold and scrubbing a hand up and down your spine while he laughs. 
“You should be ashamed of yourselves,” he teases the other boys, palm steadfast on your back. “Ganging up on our poor girl like that.” 
“Hey, I just wanted her to know that she looks nice,” Sirius says, and without removing your face from James’ neck you can picture his don’t-shoot gesture. “Anyway, it seems like she got what she wanted in the end.” 
James’ laughter starts up again, a low rumble in his chest that has you tensing warily. “Ah, I think I understand,” he says, voice turning smooth as velvet. “You just wanted to feel me up while I’m shirtless, is that right, sweetheart?” 
You make a quiet, miserable sound, slumping against him despondently as his shoulders shake underneath you. 
“You little pervert,” James goes on, teasing tone at odds with the steady patting of his hand on your back. “Lucky for you I’m willing to be objectified, you freak.” 
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ravengards-rogue · 4 months
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i thought of you so often.
arthur morgan x reader.
✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.
✧ wc : 2.4k (???)
✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.
✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.
He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.
You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.
On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.
You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.
It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.
It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.
Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.
Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.
Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.
Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.
You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.
(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.
"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)
But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.
You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.
You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.
And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.
A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.
The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.
So you're thinking on it.
The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.
Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.
You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.
"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.
Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.
The first few pages are nothing special.
A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.
You really love this man helplessly.
You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.
It feels like ages ago now.
You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.
There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.
It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.
Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.
You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.
She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.
Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.
You can't tear your eyes away.
Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.
Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.
Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.
You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.
I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.
She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.
One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.
After Arthur had been kidnapped.
I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.
Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.
A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.
The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.
Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.
You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.
You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.
Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.
Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.
My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.
Damn that man.
When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.
Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.
In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.
"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"
You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.
Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.
"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"
You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.
"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"
His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.
"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."
You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.
"Found your journal. The one about me,"
He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.
"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"
You shake your head.
"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"
He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."
You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.
"I love you, Arthur."
"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"
"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"
"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."
"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"
Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
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sometimesanalice · 5 months
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I Like Your Cinema
Synopsis: Bradley wasn’t sure why you wanted to see the movie again, especially when neither one of you had particularly liked it the first time you’d seen it together. But when you’re tugging down his zipper, things start to make a lot more sense.
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw X Female Reader
Length: 6K
Warnings: Unapologetic Smut (minors dni)
(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on it's own! )
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Bradley wasn’t expecting to find himself rolling up to the mostly empty movie theater parking lot at 11am on a sunny Saturday morning. But here he was.
He’d had to exercise more self-control than he knew he was capable of when you’d all but skipped out his front door wearing the tightest pair of jeans he’d ever seen. It was all he could do to follow after you to the Bronco, his eyes glued to all of your denim clad curves, instead of pulling you right back into bed with him like he wanted to.
In the passenger’s seat next to him, you’re surprisingly upbeat for someone who was only running off of two cups of coffee instead of the usual three you needed to become a semblance of a functional human being. You’d happily hummed along to the songs playing on the radio the whole ride to the theater.
The two of you had already seen the movie a few weeks ago. It had been fine, but they’d clearly used the funniest moments in the trailer as a way to get people in the seats. It wasn’t one he was particularly interested in seeing again in theaters, but he’d never been good at refusing you. Not when he was younger and certainly not now. So if you wanted to see it he’d be there seated right next to you, just the way he liked to be.
Although Bradley was still trying to remember just when last night it was that the two of you had talked about going to see a matinee showing of it again. He can only guess that it must have slipped his mind after the way you’d come on his mouth.
Less than an hour ago you were hustling him into the shower, he was thinking he was about to get lucky until you’d told him to hurry up or the two of you would be late.
“Wait, late for what, kid?” he’d asked confused. To his knowledge other than meeting up with Mav and Penny for dinner later that night, your Saturday was wonderfully free of plans.
He was getting used to having more morning of waking up with you than less. In his bed, in your bed. There was nothing he like more than feeling all your warm skin under his palm before the sun was up. After so many years on hard beds, it was your softness he was always seeking out still half asleep before getting up for the day.
He’s learned so many things about you from a lifetime of friendship, but he’s only had a couple of months learning what makes you sigh and gasp and keen and come.
It was one thing to know that you weren’t a morning person, regardless of how much you claimed you to be one, and another to see your adorably sleepy pout first thing in the morning with the pillow crease still etched on your cheek.
Bradley liked knowing what your preferred brand of toothpaste was and how many steps were in your bedtime routine. For as well as he’s always known you, there was so much more to discover and he was loving every new bit of you he got to uncover.
He liked your cozy apartment filled with all your pretty things and framed pictures on the walls. He’d never thought of getting a rug for in front of the sink in the kitchen until he was doing the dishes one night at your place, that night he’d ordered one for himself. However, he’d rather see your impressive shoe collection next to his minimal assortment of boots and sneakers in the closet of his condo.
More often than not, you were coming to his place with a tote bag full of your things, spare clothes and travel sized products. He didn’t want you to feel like a visitor passing through, he wanted to be your home. He was still working out how to ask you to move in with him, but he’ll figure it out. He always does.
He wanted more mornings, more nights, more days with you.
“For the movie,” you’d said slowly, looking at him deliberately. Tilting your head at him like his confusion was confusing you.
“Sweet girl, what movie? When did we talk about this? I literally don’t remember.”
The exasperated sigh that came out of you would have been funny if he hadn’t been wracking his brain trying to catch up with something he didn’t realize he was missing to begin with.
“Bradley, come on,” you huffed, petulantly, “We talked about it before bed last night. You said you’d come with me, I already bought the tickets for it.” You wiggle your phone at him like it’ll somehow help to jog his memory.
Well, that explains it. You’d done a number on him last night.
“Last night, huh?” he smirked, grabbing your hips and pulling you to him, “Was this before or after I coaxed you into sitting on my face?” Bradley chuckled at the bashful look that coasted over your face as you shoved at his shoulder lightly, but he’d just tugged you in closer, “Awh, c’mon, don’t get shy on me. It was hot.”
He liked being the one that gets to make you all flustered.
You just shook your head at him, not taking the bait, “It was after.”
“Well if it was after then you can’t blame me for not retaining that conversation.  You should know by now that you can’t hold me to whatever comes out of my mouth when I’m still pussy dru-”
“Don’t be crass,” you’d tutted at him, tugging at the hem of his worn Navy shirt.
He slides his thumbs under your shirt, letting them skim over the soft skin above your underwear, “We both know how much you like this mouth, especially when it’s ‘crass’.”
You’d hummed at him- admitting nothing, denying nothing - before a mischievous grin overtook your face, “That’s a good a tidbit to know though, seems like the kind of thing that could work in my favor for the future.”
Those dimples would be the end of him.
“Troublemaker,” he’d said, pulling off his shirt and dropping it onto the bathroom floor.
You weren’t subtle about the way you checked him out, “What are you going to do about it?”
The sweatpants came off next and your eyes weren’t anywhere near his face when he replied, “Come get in the shower with me and I’ll show you real quick.”
You’d sauntered up to him slowly. And for a moment he thought you were going to reach for his cock, instead you’d grabbed a fluffy white towel and pressed it into his chest, “Not going to happen, Bradshaw. We’ve got a date with seats F9 and F10 in 40 minutes. Chop-chop, pretty boy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Although, it didn’t stop him from snapping the towel at your ass when you’d spun away in your triumph.
He’s given up trying to remember the conversation from the night before or when you bought the tickets because you are happily tugging him towards the doors to the theater and he’d do just about anything to see the pretty curve of your smile.
Including seeing the action comedy that had one too many explosion sequences and a car that ends up in space for whatever reason.
The last time he made a fuss about you not letting him be the one to buy something for the two of you, you’d given him a look that had nearly pinned him to the damn wall and then said: “Don’t be a caveman. It’s not the 1950’s, I am allowed buy you things too.”
He’d hate to be called anti-feminist, so he was trying to get better about letting you pamper him in your own ways. But that didn’t stop him from trying to be the first one to reach for a credit card every chance he got. You were his girl and he couldn’t help himself.
Bradley opens the door for you and is hit with the smell of freshly popped popcorn. He looks down at you in time to watch as your nose scrunches the same way it always has in all the years that he’s known you.
Once the tickets on your phone are scanned by the yawning teen at the podium in the lobby entry, you’re lacing your fingers between his again, “Let’s get some snacks.”
“How are you even hungry right now?” He’d made the two of you a big breakfast to recoup some energy after being thoroughly worn out by you last night. So he doesn’t know how you even have junk food on the brain right now.
“We’re at the movie theater, Bradley, we’re legally required to get something with some Red Dye 40 and an obscene amount of sugar in it.”
“My bad, you’re right.”
“Of course, I am,” you preen.
He huffs an amused laugh as you lead him to concessions stand. It’s early enough that there’s only one person working the counter. The two of you get in line behind the family with three small kids who have their faces and little hands pressed against the glass display with all the colorful boxes of candies excitedly making their selections.
Bradley is watching as you mull over the choices on the flat screen TVs displaying the theaters offerings, your lips quirked to the side deep in thought. As he watches you, it dawns on him that the two of you will have plenty of time after the movie to run a few errands before they meet Mav and Penny for dinner.
“Hey, I was thinking about getting for a new dresser. I think mine might be too small now that all my things are here in San Diego now. If you’re up for it afterwards, do you want to come help me pick one out? Anything outside of IKEA is bit outside my area of expertise.”
With your help over the last few months, he’s been picking up a few new things to make his place feel more like a home and less like something temporary. Like some throw pillow for the couch, some nicer towels for the bathroom that all match. All little things but he liked that your fingerprints were all over his place even when you weren’t there with him.
“Oh yeah?” you say as you turn your face to look up at him, eyes alight with interest, “I’d be happy to, it’ll be fun! I can think of at least 5 places off the top of my head. You’re in good hands, trust me.”
“Don’t I know it,” he winks and drops a kiss on your cheek.
When it’s your turn to order you get a Cherry Coke for yourself and a Root Beer for him. Along with a bag of gummy bears, a box of Milk Duds, and a packet of Red Vines. But it’s your final request that surprises him.
“Oh, and a large popcorn, please,” you say with a smile.
He peers down at you quizzically, “But you hate popcorn.”
“What are you talking about? No, I don’t.” He just gives you a skeptical lift of his eyebrow. “Ok, maybe in the past,” you allow, with a little nonchalant shrug of your shoulder, “But today I want some, it sounds good.”
Bradley has never in his life seen you eat anything other than the homemade stuff from on a stovetop, but at the determined tip of your chin he isn’t about to press it. You’ve always been the type of girl who knows what she wants. And gets it.
“Whatever you want, kid,” he says handing over his credit card to the girl behind the counter. Feeling more than a little pleased with himself as she swipes it since you’re still trying to reach for your wallet in your purse.  
You smile and shake your head at him as you press that overly large bucket of popcorn into his chest for him to take, it’s shiny and yellow with artificial butter. You grab a stack of the thin, single-ply napkins and stuff them into your purse before grabbing the rest of the goods from off the fingerprint covered counter.
He trails after you popping a few salty buttery pieces into his mouth, admiring the curve of your ass in those jeans. His own personal preshow entertainment.
The seats you had grabbed were to the left side in the very back row of one of the smaller theaters that are usually reserved for movies about to hit on-demand and streaming services. Bradley can’t say he’s too surprised that the zoom kaboom movie isn’t going to have a long theatrical run.
It doesn’t escape his notice the way you set his drink in the cup holder on the left side of his assigned seat, your own soda going into the cup holder on your right before you settle into your own seat. It’s the little things you do for him, like putting his cup on his dominant side or stocking the fridge at your place with his favorite beer, that make him fall more and more for you every day.
The two of you get competitive when the movie trivia segment plays. You’re a split second faster than him blurting out Matt Damon in Ocean’s Twelve and securing your win against him. Your victory shimmy in your seat is cut short when a man comes walking down the aisle heading towards the front row of the theater.
Bradley plays a couple rounds of the beer pong game on his phone that you always tease him about in between eating handfuls of popcorn waiting for the lights to dim and the movie to start. He offers you the bucket, but you press it back towards him and tell him you’ll have some later.
He thinks he catches the movie app with the seating chart from the corner of his eye, but you’re probably just closing it out from using it to get the tickets scanned earlier. But you’re more fidgety than normal. It’s only after he clocks you pulling your phone for the third time that he asks, “You seem antsy, you ok?”
“I’m just excited to see the movie again,” you reply, putting your phone on airplane mode and tucking it back into your purse.
“I didn’t realize you liked it so much.”
“Well, I did. I think you’ll like it more this time too, it takes at least two watches to catch all the nuances.”
“I didn’t realize a Kevin Hart movie could have so many layers,” he jokes as the lights turn down.
“You shush, it’s starting.”
As the opening sequence plays, you push up the armrest between the two of you to lean your head on his shoulder, curling into him as much as you can. When you rest your hand on his stomach he decides this might be his new favorite way to spend a Saturday morning, with you pressed against him in a darkened room and breathing in the smell of your shampoo.
Bradley isn’t surprised in the least when you turn down his offer of popcorn again 20 minutes later when it’s revealed the best friend in the movie is actually a rogue CIA agent. He smirks to himself when you push until its resting on top of the thigh furthest away from you. He couldn’t wait to tease you about it after the movie was over.
As the movie builds to the first big action sequence, your hand slowly slides lower down his stomach. It’s all he can to do try and focus on the movie in hopes of distracting himself from getting a hard-on like some horny teenager rather than the grown ass man that he is.
But then right as the chase scene through the crowded streets of London starts, you’re popping open the button on his jeans and tugging down his zipper.
And then you’re pulling out his now very hard cock.
“Oh, shit.”
Your delicate fingers are teasing along the length of him with a featherlight touch. He couldn’t care less about the half a million-dollar car on screen that’s on its way to the junkyard with the way it’s getting destroyed, and is entirely enthralled by the way your hand looks loosely wrapped around his cock as you toy with him.
“This ok?” you ask quietly, in a way that has him wanting to flutter his eyes closed. Your thumb sweeps slowly along under the flare of his head in the way you know he likes.
He’s always been a bit adventurous, he likes the adrenaline rush both in the air and on the ground, and he was learning you were too. You’d never come so quick for him as you did the night in the parking lot of the Hard Deck when the fire alarm went off unexpectedly causing everyone to start flooding out as you were riding his cock in the driver’s seat of the Bronco.
Bradley had never been more thankful to have arrived late enough that he’d had to park on the other side of the dumpsters. The only person who was allowed to see you undone and unraveled was him.
“So fucking ok, sweet girl,” he rasps as soundlessly as he can. The one other person in the theater with them is quite a few rows ahead of them, but he wasn’t about to give away what was going on in the back row of Auditorium 17 at the AMC Chula Vista 10.
“Shh, don’t you know talking during a movie is rude, Bradley?” you whisper into the shell of his ear. And god does he want to laugh, but he has to grit his teeth together to hold back the moan he’s desperate to release when you more firmly grasp him in your hand.
He already knows that is something that’s going to keep him occupied on those nights the two of you spend apart. Something to dream about on a cramped bunk bed on a carrier in the middle of the ocean when he is thousands of miles away from you.
You and your pleased smile and your hand on his cock.
There’s no way he could have prepared himself for the way you lean over him and lick up the length of him with a broad stroke of your tongue.
You’ve got one hand at the base of him and the other braced on his thigh supporting you. He’s clutching at the rim of that damn bucket of popcorn like it’s a lifeline as you drop wet, open mouthed kisses along his cock.
His pulse is thrumming in his throat and he can’t quite remember how to push the air out of his lungs. He’s had years of learning specialized breathing techniques and it all flies out of his mind at the stroke of your hand and the bob of your head and the swirl of your tongue.
Bradley is desperate to see you face, there’s nothing he loves more than looking into your eyes when you’re treating him to your perfect mouth. It’s not possible at this angle, but he gathers your hair into his fist so that he can see your lips stretched around him. He’s not guiding your motions, he just wants a better look at you. Even in the dimly lit auditorium, he can see how spit-slicked you’ve gotten him.
You’re taking as much of him as you can, with each dip of your head more and more of him disappears into your hot mouth.
And when he hits the back of your throat he nearly loses his mind.
“Jesus,” he curses up to the ceiling, throwing his head back and trying not to pant. Thankfully in time with some explosion on screen and he knows without a doubt that you’d done it at that moment on purpose.
You pull off of him and the string of spit glinting between your lips and his cock is going to fuel his one-handed fodder for the next month. He watches in rapt until its pulled taut enough to break. Your lips are shiny and wet, there’s a satisfied smile on your face as you take him in, still pumping him with your hand.
Your teeth graze his earlobe, and goosebumps erupt along his forearms. Your words hushed so that only he could hear them. Only meant for him. “God, Bradley, you’re so good to me. You’ve always been so good to me.”
“Sweet girl,” he whispers, roughly. His chest is tight with his sheer want of you.
You kiss his cheek, “Just enjoy the movie, Bradley.” Your hand is gliding up and down his shaft easily, your thumb skimming over his sensitive head on every upstroke.
Your tongue dips out to lave at the divot at the base of his neck and you nudge him with your nose in a silent request. He leans his head back along the red velvet seat and angles himself away to give you all the access to column of his throat. With his eyes tightly squeezed closed, every touch feels that much more heightened to him. Your hot breath on his throat is at stark contrast to the air conditioning wafting through the auditorium.
The feel of your lips mouthing and sucking and licking along him is worth any shit he’d get if he goes onto base on Monday wearing your handiwork on his neck. He’d do those extra push-ups with pride.
He looks down to where your hand is working him in smooth strokes, your fingertips not touching until they reach the from ridge of the head of his cock. He knows he’s not small by any means, but in your hands he looks huge.
It feels so wrong and so right. The movie is loud enough to cover any slick sounds your hand is making and the other person is far enough away that there’s no way the two of you will be caught, not above the surround sound of screeching tires on pavement and the shattering of glass.
Your lips graze his ear, “You always know just what I need and what to say. You make feel so seen and so special.” With every generous word, his heart hammers harder and harder against his ribs. Your sweet voice and your hand working his cock have him dizzy with need. “And it’s not just me. I don’t miss the way you check to see if anyone else needs a drink before you go to get another one or the way you’re always the first to help when someone needs an extra set of hands. It’s so hot the way you take care of everyone.”
Bradley’s face feels warm, he’s sure he’s flushed pink. He’s trying to keep his breathing under control, but you’re making it difficult for him. He’s never shied away from the praise that comes with his career, he’s worked and sacrificed for that. But with you, he never wants to stop earning it from you.
“You’re so damn handsome,” you hum, your lips brushing over one of the scars on his neck, the ones he’s never told you the full story about just how he got them. “I’ve never been so desperate for someone before, I want you all the time. I didn’t know it could be like this, Bradley. I lo-like you so much.”
He breathes your name unevenly.
He didn’t realize how hungry he was for those three words from you until just now. He’s loved you his whole life, in the affectionate way that friends do, but it’s been increasingly clear to him over these last few months that he is also in love with you.
Bradley already knew he was never going to feel the same way about anyone else the way he feels about you.
He’s never felt more himself than he does with you. You know the best parts of him and the worst, you’ve been there and seen it all. He doesn’t have to just be Rooster or Lieutenant Bradshaw all the time. He can just be.
It’s never been like this for him before either. He’s always orbited around your sun, but now you’re his whole universe.
He loses himself to the sound of your voice and pretty praise, soft and low, and to the feel of your lips and tongue on his skin as you work his cock in the way that he knows is going to have him seeing stars soon.
Bradley can feel your grin against his neck right before you drag your teeth down the column of his throat, “No one has ever fucked me as good as you do. I’ve never come so hard as I do with you.” 
He has to swallow down the groan that almost escapes him as he jerks into your hand as a tidal wave of masculine pride crashes into him.
Damn right you do.
You are his girl.
He knows your body. He knows you.
His. His. His.
Yours. Yours. Yours.
A cough from the front of the auditorium startles the both of you. The tension makes his throat tight, but when it’s followed by a sniffle rather than a second more pointed noise, the two of you know you’re safe to continue.
“Bradley.” He can hear the request in the way you say his name. With no minimal effort, he cracks his eyes open and turns his head to you. Half of your pretty face is illuminated by the movie playing in front of the two of you.
Holding his gaze, you slowly stick your shiny, pink tongue out to him and he almost comes on the spot.
He can see the playful dare in your eyes and the wicked curve of the corners of your mouth around your waiting tongue.
You know exactly what you are doing to him. A menace, his favorite menace.
His favorite person.
Bradley leans over and cups your jaw in his hand, his thumb skimming along your cheek right before he spits into your open mouth.
You let him admire his handiwork for a moment and then you wink at him.
It’s in that instant that he knows he’s played right into your winning hand because you’re leaning back down over his cock and letting the combination of his spit and yours drip right on to the top of him.
The two of you watch as the thick dribble slowly slides off and down, down guided by the thick vein along the length of him.
When it reaches the base of his cock, your mouth is chasing after it as you take him right down to the hilt.
His stomach and thighs are tensing with the strain of holding himself back when you hollow your cheeks around him. He almost doesn’t want to give in just yet, but the feel of your soft lips and the firm strokes of your hand on him is just too good.
That pressure that has been steadily building behind his bellybutton is too hard to ignore. He’s so close now. You must be able to tell he’s right there too because you’re humming around him in that way that makes his lower stomach and inner thighs coil in anticipation. He reaches for your leg, driven by the overwhelming need to touch you. Bradley can feel all your soothing warmth through your painted on jeans under his palm.
And with a tricky twist of your wrist at the base of his cock as you tongue at the firm ridge of him, he spills into your perfect mouth as you finish him off.
Bradley’s mind goes blank with pleasure as it hits him like a sucker punch. 
It’s intense. It’s a rush. It’s all because of you.
Spent and sated he melts further into the comfortable movie theater seat as you clean what cum you couldn’t swallow with your tongue, laving at him until you were content before tucking him back into his boxer briefs.
He doesn’t know how he made it through that without sending that giant bucket of popcorn to the floor, but the rim of it is noticeable crumbled on one side. He balances it on his leg as he adjusts himself and rebuttons his jeans.
When he looks over at you, you’re popping a Milk Dud into your mouth like a prize for a job well done. And you grin widely at him.
“C’mere,” he murmurs, affectionately pulling you back to him. He kisses the top of your head as you tuck yourself into his chest, that box of candy clutched in your hand.
The rest of the movie passes in a hazy blur as his heartrate returns to normal while he plays with the ends of your hair.
He tries offering you the popcorn again, but once again you push it away. This time he does laugh and you tilt your head up and press a soft kiss at the base of his throat. He can’t help but smile to himself every time you hold up one of the chocolate-covered caramel candies up for him to eat, your eyes never leaving the screen.
And this time, he’s not even annoyed when they misidentify the Immelmann Turn for a Barrel Roll Attack. Although how they got a Pontiac Fiero airborne is still beyond him.  
When the man in the front row leaves as the credits start rolling he turns to you, “Well, you were right, sweet girl. I think that might be my new favorite movie.”  
Your smile is beaming, but your laugh is even brighter.
He still can’t believe that just happened, but he’s already planning to preorder the damn collector’s edition Blu-ray the second he can. “Can I ask what brought that on?”
“You keep trying to get handsy with me at the library, but you know I can’t desecrate the books. Knowledge is power, Bradley. But I figured this was something you might like too.”
“Are you telling me you brought me here for the sole purpose of getting me off in the back row, kid?
“I am and I did,” you preen.
Bradley chuckles and leans over for a kiss. It’s soft and sweet.
He pulls away and looks into your eyes, grinning he asks, “So you like me, huh?” He knows he’s probably pressing his luck, but he’s willing to take a gamble if it means he gets to hear that from you again.
You press you lips together trying to fight back your own smile, “I’m not saying those three words to you for the first time after blowing you in the back row of an AMC, Bradshaw.”
“Is it just the AMC then?” he teases, setting his bucket of popcorn to the side before pulling you into his lap. Your knees balanced on the seats to either side of him as you settle on him, “Because we could hit up a Regal if that’s more your speed. Or-”
“Bradley,” you laugh, trying to cover his mouth with your hand.
He catches it in his and presses a quick kiss to your palm, “And what if I told you I like you too? Would that change anything?”
It’s no secret what he really means. He knows what almost slipped out of your mouth. But if you’re not quite ready to say it then he can be patient. You’re more than worth the wait.
Bradley sees the way your eyes light up and the way your smile gets even wider only a sliver of a second before you’re ducking down to eagerly kiss him.
For a moment he feels like he is a teenager again, making out with his girlfriend in the back of a movie theater without anyone around. Wild and reckless and carefree.
Your hands slide up his chest and into his hair, your nails on his scalp have him sinking further into the seat. His hands grip your ass, just like the way he’s by dying to touch you since he saw you in them this morning. He takes advantage of your gasp to slide his tongue against yours. He didn’t know that happiness tasted like the Cherry Coke you had been sipping on, but it does and he can’t get enough of it.
He probably would have kept on kissing you if it were for the pointed clearly of a throat that has the two of you flying apart like you’ve both been electrocuted. The teen standing in the aisle just awkwardly lifts up the broom and dust pan.
You bite your lip to keep from giggling at getting caught as you scramble off of his lap collecting your things, hastily shoving the candy back in your purse and babbling a sorry, sorry that he personally didn’t think sounded too terribly apologetic. He’s quick to follow your lead, checking his pockets to make sure he still had his wallet and keys, not forgetting to grab that large cardboard popcorn bucket as you head for the double doors to the auditorium.
The two of you manage to keep it together until the swinging door closes behind and then you’re bursting out into a fit of laughter in the hallway.
“Oh my god, Bradley, I’m mortified,” you giggle into his chest, “We can never come back here.”
“Nah, I’m sure that’s not the first time that kid has busted people for necking in the back row. Plus this is the best reviewed AMC in the area,” he says with a grin, dropping his arm over your shoulders. “Hey, I’ve still got at least half a bucket of popcorn left should we make it a double feature? I’m more than happy to return the favor. Those jeans of yours might make it a little difficult, but I’m up for the challenge.” He gives you a playfully suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.
“Maybe next time,” you grin, reaching up and threading your fingers through his to tug him towards the exit. “I am worried we might be arrested for public indecency if we stay here a second longer.”
He tosses the popcorn bucket into the trash as the two of you pass by the concession stand on your way out.
“Ok, kid, but I have to know, why did you order the biggest size they had if you weren’t going to eat it too? We both know you hate movie theater popcorn.”
“You’re not allowed to tease me if I tell you.”
“I promise not to tease you,” he says holding open the door for you.
“I thought it might help to block any potential wandering eyes,” you admit, blushingly, “Just in case, there was any last-minute Kevin Hart super fans who wanted to go to a matinee first thing in the morning.”
He tips his head back and laughs, “She’s smart and pretty.”
“And you like me for it,” you say, squeezing his hand in yours.
“Oh, I more than like you for it, sweet girl,” he confirms.
Any other plans he had for the day are forgotten when you press him against the Bronco for another thorough kiss.
It was a miracle the two of you weren’t late meeting Penny and Mav later that night.
He still wants to get a new dresser, he wants you to have a place to put things in his home. But if his girlfriend wants to spend the rest of their Saturday in bed together, who is he to deny you.
Not when he knows you like him.
You don’t make him wait long to hear it though.
They are the first three words he heard out of your mouth the next morning.
And it is without a doubt the best thing he’s ever heard in his life.
Nothing has ever felt as easy or as right to him as it does saying it back to you against your smiling lips.
I love you I love you I love you I love you
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Shout out to the AMC Chula Vista 10! They're the real MVP here. Bradley and Sweet Girl definitely return, and the next time she wears a dress 🤗
A big thank you to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for being the ultimate hype girl, I know when the vibes are right when the ALL CAPS come out. Ames (@laracrofted) you saved the day with the color edit for the banner, thank you! And Elle (@callsignspark), you know what you did and I thank you for letting me join you on the 'spit in my mouth' agenda, haha!
If you enjoyed these two, you can read their story from the start here!
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I've got McCabe
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Hi guys :)
So this is a request from here (never been so quick in my life) and I've never write with Katie before so I hope it would suit you all!
Enjoy :)
TW : Love fight, swearing, Nothing else I think
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Being Katie McCabe’s girlfriend is something you cherish in everyday life. Everyone knows her reputation on the football fields, and you will never deny the truth of this, but Katie obviously has good sides to tip the scales and drive you crazy about her.
Your little bickering comes mainly from her Irish origins of which she is very proud, while you are just as proud from your Scottish origins. You certainly don’t have a team as strong as England or even Ireland, but your talents have allowed you to be spotted by Arsenal for many years and this is where you still play today. Needless to say, where you met Katie.
For today, you don’t know exactly when your mutual teasing started. You have learned over time to respond to Katie when she starts teasing you, not wishing to leave her the last word every time.
The problem today is that neither of you seems to want to admit defeat. What started out as childish games is nicely being transformed into something else while a certain mutual annoyance is being felt on both sides.
Your teammates must have felt it, Leah grabbing Katie during the lunch break while you almost get kidnap by a Beth Mead apparently more than happy to show you pictures of her puppy. You can’t say that it didn’t work, you are literally a fan of this little cutie.
But after the lunch break, when the training started again, it only takes a little teasing from Katie to start again. And again, you don’t want to let it pass, there’s no reason why it’s always you who gives up, after all.
The limit is exceeded just at the end of the training, while Katie asks you to please go store her dumbbells with yours. Already having yours to carry and a ball in the other hand, you answer her that she only has to get up to do it herself. "Well, at least Ruesha would have done it for me." This one, it hurts.
You remain frozen a few seconds there before turning slowly in the direction of the Irish which seems to realize despite everything what she has just said. But Katie doesn’t add anything, just looking at you from the mattress she’s sitting on with wide eyes. "Fuck you, Katie" you mumble coldly before disappearing from the room. The idea of throwing the ball you hold in your hand on her head would have been tempting and you admit to having thought about it for a few moments. But you weren’t alone and it was out of the question for you to provoke a real scene with violence to the key. "Mate..." sighs Leah once you leave the room. "Wha' " grunts Katie without looking at the blonde. "That was a terrible comment" "Shut up" In truth, Katie knows very well that she has crossed the line and she is very uncomfortable. Hurting you is never her intention, she has always been very careful with her behavior with you, treating you like a princess on a daily basis. Except when she decides to test your limits like today. It never went that far though. Leah answers nothing, content to follow the brunette to the changing rooms to go shower and change. Katie frowns when she sees that you’re not there anymore and your stuff either. "She left. Alessia brings her home. And you’re definitely going to sleep on the couch tonight" Kyra informs her before going to take a shower. The information squeezes Katie’s heart, you live together, so it makes sense to travel together. But she particularly likes to see you in the role of HER passenger princess.
It’s with her mind elsewhere that Irish showers and changes, taking her time in seeking the best solution to fix things. However, it’s difficult for her to know what to do since she doesn’t know what treatment she will be entitled to once she arrives home.
Are you gonna yell at her? Ignore her? Are you even going to be there or will she be allowed a simple post-it on your fridge informing her that she just has to go to hell?
It’s not in a safe state that Katie gently open the door to your house. The living room is empty, but your sneakers are carefully placed on the shoe cabinet of the entrance, informing her of your presence at home. But you’re not in the part of the living room that she can see from where she is.
"Babe?"
Only silence answers her, which doesn’t particularly surprise her. You’re stubborn too and usually Katie liked that about you. But not today.
Sighing, Katie drops her bag at the entrance and walks a little further into the house. She finally finds yourself sitting at the kitchen table, apparently completely absorbed in your readings. Yes, because in addition to your training and games, you’ve been doing correspondence marketing studies. Just in case.
"Are you still angry?" Katie tries to get closer to you.
But you just answer her that a breath of the nose, without looking up from your book. If only she knew you couldn’t concentrate for more than ten seconds. You were really hurt by her remark, even if you think (hope) that she doesn’t think about it for a single second. What could be worse than being compared to her girlfriend’s ex by the principal concerned?
"Babe please, can we just…"
"Don’t fucking touch me McCabe!"
You jumped on your legs as she approached you, ready to put her hand on your arm. In your heart you obviously appreciated that she tries a reconciliation and that she tries to catch up, but it’s still too early for the moment. Your hands tremble with anger when you go to lock yourself in your room, slamming violently the door behind you.
********
"I don’t know mate, she seems really upset. She surname me!"
Katie walks around your backyard, whispering softly on the phone so you don’t hear her. She tried several times to knock on the door of your room but you never answered her, worse you even blocked the handle of the door so that she could not join you.
Leah, on the other end of the phone, has to admit that she is impressed by the strength of character with which you stand up to Katie. But Katie is still her friend and she obviously wants you to make up.
"At the same time, you compared her to your ex. Anyone would have taken it badly. I would have probably killed you."
"I know, Lee. But I can’t go back to the past, what do you want me to do?"
"Apologize?"
"She won’t listen to me, she won’t even let me in the same room as her."
"The good news is she didn’t strangle you" Leah comments with amusement.
"Not yet" answers Katie with a gloomy air.
"Let her calm down a little and in the meantime prepare an apology in good form"
"What do you mean?" asks Katie, mechanically looking up at your bedroom.
"Go get her some flowers, make her a candlelight dinner… what you know will please her."
"I have another idea" ended up answering Katie after a few seconds of reflection.
********
The night has fallen for a little while when almost timid blows are again thrown against the door of your bedroom. You sigh as you hear Katie’s voice rise from behind the door.
"I know you’re still very angry with me, but can you meet me at the livingroom please?"
You roll your eyes without answering, sitting on your side, back to the door. Now that the anger has dissipated, you realize that you were also hurt by the Irish comment. So you decide not to go. At least that was before you got a message on your phone.
Katie 🍀❤️ Baby please?
You let out a big sigh before you get out of bed. With your hands in yours (Katie’s) training pockets and your face frown, you finally leave your room. After moving the chair you had placed under the handle so that she could not enter.
When she hears your bedroom door open, Katie almost teleports to you.
"Can you close your eyes?"
"I’m not in the mood, Katie" you grumble in a low voice.
"Please" she whines.
You stare at her for a few seconds before sighing again and obeying. You let her take both hands to train you to the living room, stopping in the free passage left by the two sofas installed in the living room. Without letting go of your hands, Katie whispers
"You can open them"
You blink twice to regain clear vision and remain speechless in front of what was previously your living room. Katie installed cozy plaids and cushions on the sofa, she lit your fireplace and decorated the room with many Harry Potter goodies. You’re a fan of it, defending your house, Ravenclaw. Needless to say, the one you share your life with is from another house, which you confirmed when you forced her to take the test. Needless to say which one. (Slytherin)
On the coffee table Katie prepared bowls with several snacks and cups of hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Everything looks like one of those photos that are on Instagram. Well, almost. Because in these photos, there’s not Katie McCabe looking at you with as much apprehension as if you were a bomb ready to explode.
"I’m sorry I was stupid like that and I hurt you. I didn’t think about it and you have no idea how much I blame myself. I should never have said that when I haven’t thought about my ex in forever and even less since we’ve been together. I mean, of course we see each other when we’re training on the national team, but that’s it. She has nothing to do with you. I’m so sorry, Baby, I swear."
Katie rambles a little bit and you get to see the nervousness behind her clumsy speech. And it makes you feel terribly tender. Realizing that she still has your hands in hers, Katie gently pulls on it to draw you a little closer to her.
"I’m not just angry. What you said is hurtful, too, Kat."
"I know" she whispers, dropping one of your hands and putting hers gently under your chin. "But I don’t mean a word of it. No one can match you."
Your gaze in her blue eyes is enough to convince you of her sincerity and despair at the idea that you may not forgive her. It’s that side of Katie that you fell in love with as well, that part that she shows almost nobody. Katie is a loyal and attentive friend, which people know as well. But she is also a tender woman who enjoys cuddling with her girlfriend. You.
"I love you so much" she adds after a few seconds, pressing her forehead against yours. "Please, forgive me."
"Okay" you end up answering softly.
Her smile is so great of joy and relief that you can’t help but smile back.
"But on condition that we watch the first film" you add, pointing to the television with a nod.
"Anything you want."
Katie hurries to make you settle into the couch, perhaps doing a little too much by hurrying to bring a stool so that you can put your feet on it. But you let her, amused by her behavior. She then runs to dim the light in the living room, hands you a cup of hot chocolate and a glass of water if « the chocolate is too chocolate ». She tenderly wraps you in a plaid, asking if you want a cushion and arranges the food bowls so that you have everything near you.
"Are you missing something?" Katie asks, looking closely around her.
"Yes" you answer with a smile.
"What?"
"You."
Bowing an eyebrow, you lift a corner of the blanket in which you are wrapped so that she comes to settle next to you. What she does smiling, even accepting that you shift to allow her too to put her feet on the stool with you. After making sure again that you didn’t miss anything, Katie launches the film and you gently lean your head on her shoulder when she puts her arm around yours.
Ten good minutes passed when you look up at Katie’s face, lit by the lights of the television.
"Babe?" you call her gently, making her look off the screen.
"Yes?"
"I love you too."
A soft smile is born on her face and you would swear that it will remain there until the end of the evening. Including when she leans over you to kiss you right now, then every other time during the movie.
Katie McCabe may be a fool, but she’s your fool.
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So… Katie McCabe is a Slytherin, what do you think? 😂
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verysium · 7 months
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how bllk boys would react when u draw them, could either be rlly good or rlly SHIT u choose idk (plz include barou and the itoshi bros) 😊😊😊 i love you and ur works, and the way u write the boys and ur content makes me laugh fr, one of my fave bllk authors mwjahaja 😓 have a great day, ily:3 and the icks post made me smile like all of ur posts do!
thank you so much anon ♡ this ask had me contemplating very seriously, so apologies if it's a bit late:
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sae is definitely awestruck in some way, even if he doesn't immediately show it. i think i talked about this in a previous headcanon, but he has a deep-seated admiration for artists who can grasp abstract concepts because he himself cannot. he would be somewhat flattered if you drew him since he's never considered his own appearance to be particularly inspiring. would be appalled if you considered him your muse. like....why? to him, his looks aren't anything of importance (clearly he is blind.) would probably say your drawing was inaccurate but then hang it up by his nightstand so he can look at it every night before he goes to sleep. if you're a full-time artist, he probably keeps a little stash of your gifts in a small box beneath his bed. sometimes if he's having a bad day or he lost a game, he goes back and flips through them just to make himself feel better. secretly loves the way you draw his bangs and the little swoop you do in your signature.
kaiser corrects every single detail in your drawing. stands behind you and gives you little pointers here and there. he should have an 8-pack, not a 6-pack. his jawline isn't sharp enough in your initial sketch. poses shirtless in front of you so that way you can encapsulate the full extent of his sexiness. shows off your drawing to every living creature in existence. "isn't he handsome?" like...🙄 yeah, michael we know. he's probably the hardest to draw because of his tattoo, so i think he genuinely appreciates it when you put in the effort to capture his intricacies. will never admit this but he's low-key proud of you and your talent (mostly just your ability to make him look good.)
rin is one of those people who doesn't understand hyperrealism. like why does he need a highly detailed sketch of his face when he can just take a photo and print it out? i don't think he understands art in general. probably despises modern art too. he'd take one look at a rothko painting and be like....i could draw this too...in my sleep. similar to sae, i feel like he's just numb to the sentimentality of gift-giving. doesn't understand why you would waste your time drawing a little picture of him, but it does make his heart feel strangely fuzzier, so maybe he'll keep it this one time. lo and behold, months later he now has a collection of your drawings he doesn't have the heart to throw away. refuses to let isagi or anyone see them because they're meant for his eyes only.
yukimiya has impeccable taste. in fact, he's probably an artist himself. i think it'd be cute if you both drew little sketches of each other throughout the course of your relationship. but neither of you ever knew until you gifted him your sketchbook for christmas, and he was like....guess what...i drew you too. thinks you're pretty even when you don't think so. sometimes when you're having a coffee shop date, he scribbles a portrait of you on his napkin because the sunlight hit your cheek just right in that moment, and the birds were chirping, and he fell in love all over again. i think it's also tragic that he's slowly losing his eyesight, so he won't be able to enjoy your drawings and the vibrant colors you infuse into them. that's why he treasures them even more. probably thumbs over the pages from time to time. memorizes every stroke and line.
isagi likes the way you always draw that little tuft of hair that sticks up on the top of his head. it looks like a cute little bean sprout. he pins your drawings up above his bed next to a polaroid of you two in germany. buys you a professional art set for your birthday. if you're a digital artist, he buys you a new tablet and stylus.
bachira adds his own doodles next to yours except he makes a chibi version of everything. always pesters you to include his little fangs. uses the boldest combination of colors. he would definitely be a messy artist. paint everywhere. fingernails perpetually stained a different color. you both draw during class, so when you two trade notebooks to actually study......there aren't any actual notes.
barou acts like he doesn't know what to do with your drawing of him but then the next day you visit his house, and he's already put your artwork in a fancy picture frame. refuses to let anyone else even stand within a ten meter radius next to it because he doesn't want their "nasty fingerprints" all over your beautiful masterpiece.
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pukanavis · 2 months
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Fuyume Hanamura Idol Story 1
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ーThe Yumenosaki Academy library, two years since the establishment of ES.
Fuyume: Excuse me?
Are there any fairy tales here…?
Oh, the shelf over there is the section for picture books and stuff?
Thank you for your help.
~...♪
(Ah, she was right. Yume recognises a bunch of the books over here.)
(They’ve got a good selection to choose from but the categorising is a mess. They’re just randomly thrown onto the shelf without any care for alphabetical order or release date.)
(Oh well…apparently no one has any love for fairy tales…)
(‘The Little Mermaid, ‘Momotaro’, ‘Tale of The Bamboo-Cutter’, ‘Snow White’, ‘Urashima Taro’, ‘Cinderella’—)
(Oh! It might not be the one Yume was looking for but he’s in the mood to read Cinderella today.)
(This story is another one that Yume adores.)
(It’s a tale about love being rewarded.)
…♪
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Fuyume: …? Hm? Oh, uhm, you’re that nice person from earlier—did you need something?
You were so kind to Yume earlier, so he’d be happy to give you some company.
Huh? The Yumenosaki Academy library is off-limits to anyone that doesn’t work for or attend the school?
How could you tell that Yume isn’t a student here?
Ooh, cause Yume isn’t wearing the uniform…?
That makes sense…no biggie, Yume will be sure to wear the school uniform next time.
Yume is really good at sewing, so it won’t be a problem…fufu ♪
Huh? That’s not the issue?
Yume doesn't like anything you’re saying right now.
Here he was thinking you were a nice person.
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Fuyume: Huh? Yume’s name is Fuyume Hanamura.
And you are? …Anzu-san? You’re a graduate of Yumenosaki?
You’re here at your old school to do some producer work, huh? It made you feel nostalgic so you’ve been walking around the grounds…? 
Oh, is that the case? Hmm…♪
Then, aren’t you and Yume in the same boat? Yume goes to a middle school separate from Yumenosaki and you’ve already graduated…right?
It sounds like neither of us are allowed to be here.
Let's work together then, okay? If you pretend you never saw Yume, he won’t go around yelling, ‘There’s a trespasser in here!’ …♪
What do they call it? A contract, business, bargaining? Let’s do something like that…♪
If you’re willing to comply, Yume will leave you be. He isn't particularly interested in you anyway.
Yume is just here to read some fairy tales.
…♪
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Fuyume: Huh? Did you need something else? You want to know what Yume is reading?
Ehehe, you’re interested in fairy tales? Sounds like we can get along.
Ehehehehehe. Yume is just reading a picture book about the massively popular princess, Cinderella. Though, he actually wanted to read something else. 
Maybe you’ve heard of it? For some reason, no one in Japan knows about it—it’s a fairy tale about an amethyst. 
Even if you don’t know the story, maybe you’ve heard this quote before?
—”The amethyst broke into pieces.”
Fufu. I guess you haven’t heard of it. Oh well.
Basically, it’s a story about an ordinary girl that comes across an amethyst that can grant any wish that she desires.
In fact, she actually fuses with the amethyst and becomes a crystalised-human of sorts.
It’s a curse put on her by an evil witch…ehehehehe ♪
The plot is kinda similar to ‘The Happy Prince’. Actually, something like ‘Arabian Nights’ or ‘The Monkey’s Paw’ might be a better match.
After transforming into the wish-granting amethyst, the girl wishes for her crush to pay attention to her, or to become better friends with people—
With each little wish she makes, the amethyst uses its power and gradually begins to crack—
Aah…♪ Eventually, her body becomes so fractured that it crumbles away and she loses all of the love and friends that she had been granted.
Her loved ones view her like a monster and chase her away in fear.
After everything, the final wish she makes is—
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Fuyume: —Ah, wait, Yume thinks you should read it for yourself to find out what happens next. Spoilers are a crime!
Ehehe. If there’s one thing Yume can say, it’s that he empathises with the amethyst girl and even admires her.
At the end of it all, the final remaining piece of her—
Becomes a ring that showers the wedding between her best friend and the one she loved in joy.
After everything, her final wish is—wait, oops, Yume just realised how much he’s spoiling. He’s really really sorry.
You don’t mind? Really? You’re super kind, you know?
Ehehe. You see, Yume shares the same wish as the girl who became a ring.
—-“I wish for your life to be full of joy.”
During her final moments, the girl whose selfish asks led her to break apart used her last wish to bring someone else happiness. 
Ehehe. Yume doesn’t have the power to grant wishes but he’ll do everything he can to achieve that too.
For example, Esu goes to Yumenosaki so Yume snuck in to watch over him in secret.
Huh? Does Yume love Esu?
It depends how you define ‘love’ but yep, Yume loves Esu.
But it's sad, isn't it? The reality we live in isn’t a fairytale.
—The amethyst already shattered long ago.
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mochinomnoms · 5 months
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*insert cat biting leg gif here*
You have made me feral for more domestic tweels now with the Mate for life head canon.
I imagine you living with them in the sea, and I just scream at the adorable thoughts.
Imma go hide under a rock with how cute this is.🫣
GOOD BE FERAL GET RABIES (don't actually)
I have opinions about where the twins would like to live with their partner.
If it's just Jade, I think he'd actually like to live on the surface, despite what he says. He loves hiking, exploring the forest, foraging, and well someone has to start moving the family business to the surface! He's happy to live in a cottage (he calls it a cottage, but it's more like a small mansion) in a maritime forest. It's right on the beach, a forest behind with the sea in front. It's the perfect home for an outdoor loving person. It also makes for a wonderful spot for get-togethers with your old school friends. Cater is particularly happy with the potential pictures he can take, while Malleus likes to check in on the rose bushes he gave as a wedding gift.
If it's just Floyd, he's wanting to stay in the sea. He loves his home, it's familiar and comforting. But he knows that the sea is still new to you, especially as someone from a world with no merfolk. Despite what people may think, he is quite attentive to the things (and people) he cares about. Floyd knows that the deep sea, cold and dark, isn't something you'd probably enjoy as a human. He makes a compromise and gets a villa on the reef of the Queendom of Roses, where Ace and Deuce are able to visit you often. They sometimes split time with Grim at one of their homes and he with you, it's nice.
If you're with both, they, honest to god, decide with rock-paper-scissors. You have the final veto, of course, but neither are really wanting to give up their ideal home. Maybe suggest that you downside to two smaller homes as a compromise (or not, it's not like they don't have money.)
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hedgehog-moss · 1 year
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The great jungle fence of 2023
I'm jealous of my neighbour's extremely lush grass so I want to let my pasture rest for a bit. Which means partitioning it so the animals can't graze one half of it for a while.
Of course, this means telling Pampe she can't go somewhere.
I chose the dividing line carefully. There's a dense jungle-like area in the middle of the pasture that I've never seen the animals try to cross, they go around it, so it can act as a natural fence. I built 2 temporary fences on either side of the jungle to finish cutting the pasture in two. The setup looks like this:
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The fenced areas on either side of the jungle are made up of sheep netting, one length planted in the ground, and another above it, attached to tree branches with string (they are also tied to one another), so the fence reaches a height of 2 Pandolf.
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I have weighed down the bottom of the fence with heavy branches so the llamas can't crawl underneath. (Before I did that, when the fence was still under construction, Poldine decided to make her mother happy by showing her she'd listened to Pampe's life lessons. Pampe behind her was bursting with pride.)
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Finally, in one particularly at-risk area, I made a quadruple fence using 4 lengths of sheep netting + 1 piece of rigid mesh fence, tied to one another and to nearby trees with string. Look at the below pictures. Zoom in. Do you understand this fence? No? Good. Neither will Pampe.
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Don't mind me just playing 5D chess with my llama.
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There's no way she'll win. For the first time in four years I will be victorious.
Okay, let's get to the point of this post.
(Bonus question, do you think she'll try indiana jonesing her way to freedom or that she'll focus on the fenced areas? Crossing the jungle might be easier but Pampe doesn't like easy, she likes mind games and destruction.)
P.S.1: for people who started following me recently, you might want to check out my llama drama tag to understand who Pampérigouste is.
P.S.2: I don't know if this will factor in your decision, but when I last saw Pampe behind 5 layers of fence she appeared to be smirking.
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ddesertmoon · 11 months
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Star Wars Fic Recs Feat. Time Travel
I think this is my favorite Star Wars trope… maybe just because sw is a tragedy and i want the characters to be happy.. maybe because I’m a sucker for the “reveal moment”… i don’t know.
Hopefully you all enjoy these as well!
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(All fics are Gen unless otherwise specified!)
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Back From the Future: Episode VI The Clone Wars by Ariel_Sojourner
“In which Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader travel back in time together to the Clone Wars era, have amazing adventures, and save the galaxy.”
Basically, Luke and Vader time travel and take over a clone battalion to change the major battles of the war. This is. A masterpiece. It’s insane. It feels like an actual, published story when you read it. It is told in a nonlinear way, so if you’re not into that, you probably won’t enjoy this. But I promise it’s one of the greatest fanfictions I’ve ever read, and there’s a reason it’s first on this list.
(Padme/Anakin and Obi-Wan/Satine, though neither ship is a focal point of the story)
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there but for the grace of god by wanderlove
“There’s nothing particularly remarkable about Sullust.
Well, except for Obi-Wan’s time-traveling son. But, you know. Apart from that.”
I LOVE this fic. Young Luke is sent into the clone wars, and since he’s been raised by Obi-Wan on Tatooine, everyone assumes that he’s Obi’s kid. His appearance changes everything by causing the people around him to reveal deep secrets that would otherwise have led to the fall of the Jedi.
(Padme/Anakin and referenced Obi-Wan/Satine)
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Old Masters, New Tricks by soft_but_gremlin
“Sixteen-year-old Obi-Wan Kenobi finds himself on Lothal in the middle of the Imperial Era. He has no idea why he's here or what all these white-clad troopers are for, but after a rocky start with a little Mandalorian, he finds out that his friend Luminara is in trouble and vows to rescue her.
Sabine Wren has no idea what this other Mandalorian is doing on Lothal, but he looks just like former rebel Korkie Kryze and he's got lightsabers on his belt. He's either going to be a fierce but foolish ally, or the Empire's paying bounty hunters to track down Jedi.”
One of the few SW fics I’ve read where characters are sent FORWARD in time! This one is really great, and I reread it all the time. The heartache Obi-Wan feels when he remembers that all his friends are dead and the heartache KANAN feels when Obi-Wan does something that reminds him of the Jedi…. Amazing.
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Free Jedi to Good Home by soft_but_gremlin
“Jango Fett expected several things from this hunt on Galidraan. Three hypothermic Jedi children stumbling into his camp was not one of those things.”
Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka (and maybe a few others, later on 👀) are sent back in time to change the outcome of the massacre at Galidraan. This one is REALLY great and I especially love the sequel (which is currently unfinished but very suspenseful and exciting)
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The Making of Mavericks by AppoApples
“Master Obi-Wan Kenobi couldn't let her just walk out into the galaxy without a lifeline. With Commander Cody and Captain Rex at his side, Obi-Wan tries to give Ahsoka some well meant advice. But the Force was listening and decided these four souls needed to blaze a better path. With all that has happened to them, waking up twenty-five years in the past shouldn't be a big deal, right?”
Time travel with Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Rex, AND Cody! FOUR people. Crazy. The classic “Obi-Wan is sent back to his childhood to change things before Anakin ever enters the picture” fic. It greatly surpassed my expectations for a time travel fic though! One of the best for sure.
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Legacy by myrlendi (thehistorygeek)
“Three months after the Battle of Endor, Luke Skywalker goes in search of a rumoured Jedi temple in a secluded part of the Mid Rim. He finds within the temple nothing but a strange artifact, which unexpectedly brings him much closer to the Jedi of old than he ever thought he would be.
When Luke fails to return from his mission, Leia goes after him, retracing his steps to the ancient temple — and to the past, to the time of the Clone Wars and the waning years of the Old Republic. Under suspicion by the Jedi Order, the twins struggle to find a way back to their own time while trying to keep their knowledge of the future from affecting the past.”
Okay, time travel with Luke Skywalker is great (one of my favorite things!), but time travel with Luke AND Leia??? Perfect. I love when she’s included.. it usually leads to some very interesting interactions between her and Anakin.
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Luminous We Are by AppoApples
“Master Obi-Wan Kenobi is filled with regrets when the Padawan he chooses is assigned to Anakin. When he discovers that it was Yoda's meddling that had prevented him from being a Padawan in his own youth, the betrayal runs deep. Wondering what could have been, a trick of the Force throws him back in time, where he learns to put his trust in the Force, not the High Council.
Redemption of Qui-Gon Jinn had he not been forced to take a Padawan before he was ready, and where the Order learns to take another course that put quite a wrench in the Sith plans. Start of the Clone Wars to 44BBY AU of the Apprentice books. Cheeky Obi-Wan and Mandalorian shenanigans.”
Obi-Wan Kenobi being adopted by Mandalorians is QUITE a popular trope in this fandom for some reason… I think it’s actually a tag on Ao3 now (don’t quote me on that). Anyway, this fic is one of the few where the time traveler is unable to rely on (very much of) their knowledge from the future.
(Obi-Wan/Quinlan)
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The Kenobi Scandal by AppoApples
“One moment they are speeding on their way to Mos Eisley, only to be hit by a Force instigated sandstorm, and the next thing Ben Kenobi knows is he wearing his old armour with the Jedi insignia and Luke can't find the droids. What's a Jedi to do when he finds himself back before the fall of the Republic? Come up with a cover story more scandalous than time travel: ‘Luke, this is Anakin Skywalker. Anakin, this is my son, Luke Kenobi.’”
Amazing! I really like when we see the potential Luke has with some formal Jedi training. And although there is a cover story for Luke’s (and Obi-Wan’s, technically) time travel, there are still some lovely emotional outbursts :)
(Obi-Wan/Satine and Luke/Ahsoka)
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Gone Are The Days by theycallmesuperboy
“While investigating an ancient Jedi distress signal in the Outer Rim, Luke Skywalker and Wedge Antilles are mysteriously sent back in time to the last days of the Republic, and stranded on Naboo, meeting two people Luke could only have ever dreamed of meeting: his parents.
Only, due to Luke's "quick thinking," the two are lead to believe that Luke and Wedge are just like them: a secretly married couple, due to Luke's status as a Jedi.”
Luke gets an opportunity to really get to know his dead parents, and Wedge gets to kiss Luke. I’m a sucker for the fake dating trope lmao, and combined with time travel? Zoo wee mama!
(Luke/Wedge and Padme/Anakin)
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Significant Brain Damage by AppoApples
“Luke Skywalker finds himself in the past as Anakin Skywalker. Obi-Wan finds himself retraining his old apprentice who has permanent amnesia while also taking on Anakin's Padawan, being a General, a Council member -during a Galactic Civil War, and fighting for a Republic he's beginning to lose faith in. Clone Wars, no paradox, no easy fix it.”
I love this one so much. Luke has to kind of pretend to be Anakin.. but everyone around him just thinks he’s had some amnesia and a major personality change. I LIVE for the “why is Anakin so much nicer now” moments.
(Padme/Sabe and Obi-Wan/Satine)
Also you may notice that this is the FOURTH fic by AppoApples on this list… I love their ideas so much.
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May Death Find You Alive by Must_Be_Thursday
“Anakin finds himself trapped in a nightmare, reliving the same day. He tries. He tries to change things, but it always ends the same.
With a broken bond and a dead best friend.
He's not sure how many times he'll be able to watch the life leave Obi-Wan before he loses his mind.”
Let’s switch it up! Groundhog Day style time loops are always fun, and this one saves the universe! So yay! Fr though, Anakin learns to trust Obi-Wan and it changes everything.
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The More I Live The More I See This Life is Not About Me by K_R_Closson
“After touching a mysterious artifact, Cody's general is suddenly a child with the memories to match. Cody has to coax a suspicious adolescent back to base without alerting the nearby Separatists of their presence.
Reversing his general's age an easier fix than Cody thought it would be, but he didn't factor in the possibility that Obi-Wan might not want to give up his self in order to become General Kenobi again. It'd be easier to think if he didn't have an insidious voice in his head, whispering to him to distrust the Jedi.”
This one is technically just de-aging, with Obi-Wan becoming his thirteen year old self, but I consider it similar enough to time travel to be included, and it has a lot of the same tropes. It’s very well written, and the dialogue flows excellently with the descriptions.
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what is necessary (for love and war) by hellowkatey
“His fingers reach for the hilt that has become as familiar as his own after that three-day journey back from Melida/Daan. He couldn’t stand to put the boy's saber down until he reached his quarters and reality finally set in.
Obi-Wan didn’t come back with him. Once again, he is without a Padawan.
The moment cool durasteel meets his fingertips, the overwhelming presence of Obi-Wan slams into him so hard the room begins to spin. Qui-Gon sinks to the floor, saber clutched in both hands and pressed tight against his chest as though it’s actually Obi-Wan he’s hugging.
‘You have to go back.’”
This time it’s Qui-Gon who is sent forward through time, into the clone wars. The time travel in this fic doesn’t really change anything (as in, it’s not a fix-it), but it gives some great insight into Qui-Gon’s character.
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Chosen One (derogatory) by annathecrow
“Asajj Ventress, the chosen savior of the galaxy. Force help us all.”
VENTRESS is the one to go back in time. Isn’t that crazy??? Isn’t that an insane premise?????? It was SO fun to read.
(Ventress/Shmi)
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One Step Forward, Two Steps Back by K_R_Closson
“Ahsoka Tano told Din to bring Grogu to the Seeing Stone on Tython, and Grogu would be able to call out to other Jedi. Ahsoka Tano did not say that other Jedi might call out to him or that the pillar of blue light was actually a type of planetary transportation.
Din ends up on a planet he's never heard of with nothing but his armor and his child. A lot has changed but his mandate hasn't. He must reunite Grogu with one of his kind. But first, he has to help these ade win a civil war against the dar'buir who abandoned them.”
Din travels back to the war on Melida/Daan, where one of our favorite padawans was struggling to lead the Young to victory (hint: he’s a fan favorite who almost always ends up being adopted by Mandalorians). I really like this one! It’s less about changing the past, and more about character growth and relationships.
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Bonus: Incomplete Fics
I wanted to separate these from the fics above, which are all complete.
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from this moment hangs eternity by EvanHart
“If Luke – Force, his son – was talking about slave chips, something must have gone wrong in the future.
Or, a six-year-old Luke ends up in the middle of the Clone Wars, meets his father, and changes the fate of the galaxy on the way.”
I’m a real sucker for child Luke. Gotta say. He’s ADORABLE. and moments of gut-wrenching sadness interrupted by his little sunshine smiles?? Oh my god?
Chapters: 10/15
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Oya Manda’lor! by Cloud__Chaser
“After giving up his child to Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin has found himself without a purpose. Filling in the gaps by completing bounties for Boba Fett, Din comes across a strange artifact that leaves him stranded in time.
Who knows, maybe Din's complete lack of knowledge of the world outside of the outer rim will lead to the fall of the empire before it even begins...”
Din basically becomes the most admired person on Mandalore in the span of like. A week. after he travels back in time. It’s really funny, and something I like to read when I’m in a good mood!
Chapters: 38/?
(Din/Jaster)
Also, it’s been over a year since this updated (as of the date I’m posting this), so beware, it may or may not be abandoned.
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Sith Lord Swell by AMournfulHowlInTheNight
“‘Well, looks like we're all Sith Lords, now. I hope you've all been practicing your most menacing laughter for our first run in with the Jedi Council.’
Ben could only sigh and raise a distasteful eyebrow at the cross shaped, red lightsaber he was given. Down the line other students were also handling their new weapons and robes with a raised eyebrow here and quizzical expression there.
‘Really, uncle?’
‘Really. I don't want to compete with the local Jedi population.’
Why did Jedi politics and time travel have to be so difficult?”
Like most Star Wars fans, I’m not a big fan of the sequels (‘somehow, Palpatine returned’ my ass), BUT! This fic, involving a young Ben Solo and old Luke Skywalker, was a lot of fun to read.
Chapters: 13/?
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There is another Skywalker by WabiSabi
“‘They couldn't narrow down the precise relationship due to some strange contamination in the sample. But when they launched a search in the DNA databank they found a match. Reliability of 50%, which only happens between parent-child and—’
‘Siblings,’ Master Kenobi completes, voice faint. ‘Full-blood siblings.’
The clone nods. ‘She was estimated to be around 30-years-old, so by process of exclusion, Leia Solo would be General Skywalker’s older sister by 9 years.’”
This time, it’s just Leia who’s sent to the past! Technically Luke lives as a voice in her head, but it’s pretty much just Leia. Also, I really like the premise that the temple runs a DNA test and assumes that she’s Anakin’s sibling. It’s a lot of fun!
Chapters: 10/?
Also, it’s been over a year since this updated (as of the date I’m posting this), so beware, it may or may not be abandoned.
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Companion of the Ancestors by Omegarose
“Ahsoka finds herself in a strange place, out of contact with Obi-Wan and alone with the twins. The Force feels like it hasn't in years, and she runs into a man who has to be an idiot for the way he's acting like a Jedi two years after Order 66.
((Dooku, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka all meet each other when they're 19 years old. With the addition of the Skywalker twins and a slightly-younger (than Ahsoka remembers him) Yoda.))”
I love Ahsoka, I love Luke and Leia, I love Obi-Wan… I love this fic. All of the secrets and reveals and drama! So much fun!
Chapters: 10/?
You’re not able to read this fic unless you have an Ao3 account, but those are easy to make. If anyone doesn’t know how to make one, I’m happy to make a post explaining the process!
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That’s all, folks! 20 fics is… a lot. And there are A LOT of characters in all that… So, sorry for the exorbitant amount of tags I’ll be using here. Happy reading!
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nopanamaman · 7 months
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What relationship did Kolya have with Sanya? Sergei? Nikita? Nadya??? I’m not expecting all of these to be answered at once btw lmao I’ll be happy even if you answer just one
I can fire them off one by one, no worries
He wasn't particularly close to Sanya, at least not nearly as close as Nikita was. She was fascinating to him in a "child of the Zone" way, but it's not like he was very interested in her on a personal level. He did, however permanently affect her music taste. To her, he was the strange spaced out uncle that had cool electronics around the house and took pictures of her and Sergei. He also played the guitar like her dad used to.
Kolya and Sergei had a lot more to talk about. Kolya's calm demeanor helped Sergei feel more at ease despite the terrible circumstances. Even with his ditzy nature, Kolya provided a certain sense of security and comfort. Kolya always considered Sergei a good kid, though he did believe his treatment of Sanya was too overbearing, especially considering his own relationship with Nikita.
Kolya was empty-headed, soft-spoken, neither very fit, nor particularly smart - thinking that, Nikita felt responsible for him. It was all good intentions, but with a constant undercurrent of one seeing the other as lesser. And Kolya always hated that. He couldn't fully despise his brother, because in the end, he did almost everything he could to help him. But it would be wrong to say that he harboured zero resentment.
He met with Nadya very briefly and she didn't leave much of an impression. Not because she was particularly boring: simply put, Kolya didn't care much about people in general. He wouldn't bother to form an opinion on anyone he wasn't in constant contact with. He didn't feel bad for Nadya when he learned Nikita left her. But he did feel a certain contempt for his brother: what a show of weakness from someone who's supposed to be so much more reasonable and competent than himself.
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buckttommy · 2 months
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jack 👉👈 how do you picture their second kiss? does buck initiate it? also do you have any general lil headcanons you feel like sharing? 👉👈💞
for u, my little meerkat?? anything.
so. their second kiss. their second kiss. hmmmm. i think their second kiss is a lot more hesitant than their first kiss, like. they actually know what they are to each other now. like, their first kiss, i think, kind of came as a surprise to both of them, but this one? this one means something. they're both jumping in head-first with this kiss. so. they're hesitant, not because they're afraid but because they're exploring what it means to be this close, to feel this connected to each other. their bodies are pressed together, they're dancing (swaying) to the tune of whatever's spilling through the hospital speakers (maddie and chimney are going to get married in hospital, mark my words) and. like. neither of them smell the greatest because *gestures wildly at the bachelor party* and whatever goes on afterwards, so they haven't had time to shower. but. they're close. this is their moment. no one that they loved or cared about died and life is kind of very fucking beautiful right now.
so. their noses are brushing. their breaths are caught in their throats. and, this close, buck can see every line in tommy's face and tommy can see every one of buck's acne scars and they both think that the other has never looked so fucking perfect, so fucking beautiful as they do right now. and when their mouths meet, neither of them are surprised by how much it feels like coming home. and it shouldn't, right, like. after two dates, one ending in complete disaster, being together like this, kissing like this shouldn't feel so safe, so warm, so comforting. but it does. and they're both in SO much deeper than they ever could have imagined. none of this has gone the way either of them thought it would when chim called tommy out of the blue. but. they're here now. they're here now and everything is so good. so good that they can't imagine ever wanting to be anywhere else than right with each other and one day, after they get married, they won't have to
+ bonus headcanon just for u: lately i've been feeling particularly soft about clothes sharing and so, like, one day tommy gets hurt on the job. buck sits vigil by his bedside, of course, and. every time one of his family sees him, he's in one of tommy's jackets. or if he's not wearing one of his jackets, he's wearing one of his pairs of sweatpants, or one of his pairs of jeans, or something. sometimes the whole damn outfit is tommy's from the shirt down to the boots (cos they're roughly the same size) and. it's a little tragic. you know? it's a little tragic and a lot sad because the pants are always a little too long and the jackets are always a little too big and the clothes so clearly do not belong to him. but no one says anything. i mean, how could they? neither tommy nor buck has said anything to suggest as much, but everyone sees them when they're together. everyone sees the way they touch each other, the way they kiss, the way they interact, and they're all pretty damn sure that tommy and buck are the loves of each other's lives. so when maddie comes to sit beside him and she takes his hand in hers and leans her head on his shoulder, she doesn't make a comment about how the sleeves of tommy's jacket are pulled over buck's hands so he can rest his chin on his fist and smell the lingering scent of detergent and cologne and tommy. and like. yes it's a little sad but i just love the idea of buck finding comfort in the way his boyfriend smells and the way his clothes fit even when he's not "around."
and of course when tommy wakes up, buck offhandedly mentions that he was practically living in his clothes because he truly has no idea how deeply that knowledge just... rocks tommy to the core because, like. he's never been loved so... desperately, so earnestly before. but buck, evan, loves him like that. so after his near-death experience, he goes out and buys a shit-load of jackets and hoodies and pants and whatever and wears the hell out of them. he makes sure his clothes are always covered in his signature cologne, makes sure he "accidentally" leaves a bunch of his clothes at buck's loft just in case and. it's not much. you know? and it kind of feels like jinxing something because tommy intends to love this man for the rest of his life and he intends to live for a long time. but. it's something. he loves him and he wants evan to have a piece of him always. even if he doesn't have him. anyways yeah i'll fucking cry about it.
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selfindulgentpixies · 10 months
Text
The hands that hold you ch8: Learning to trust
Satosugu x gn!reader
Ahhhh I'm so sorry this took so long. Health struggles slowed my ass way down and I had to figure out how to stitch this chapter together. chapters 8-10 will likely be snippets of events between hidden inventory and premature death. I actually have so many things i would like to put in but it's hard figuring out what's relevant enough and maintains a good flow for the story. I really want to include the exchange event next chapter so let me know if that's a thing you guys want to see.
Master list
____
It’s the previous week and Satoru and Suguru are preparing for their day while you’re asleep in your own room for the first time since your recovery began instead of one of their rooms or the infirmary. Neither is particularly thrilled to get back to ‘business as usual’ as it were but with it being summer a pair of sorcerers as strong as them couldn’t  be spared for long. Truthfully they’d much rather stay at your side for your recovery. On the second day you’d spent in bed with them watching movies they’d caught you stretching and saw how your whole torso was essentially one massive bruise. It was only a glance considering how you’d aborted the movement out of pain and had immediately brushed off any worry they’d expressed. The injuries may have been mostly healed by Shoko but the blood beneath the skin still needed to break down along with her mainly only healing the life threatening parts of your injuries. 
 Suguru rests his chin on Satoru’s shoulder and wraps his arms around his slim waist to watch him type away at his phone. He was leaving you a text explaining that they’d both be out today for missions. “Don’t want them to worry,” he says even though an explanation isn’t really needed. Suguru makes a small sound of agreement. They both already knew you had a tendency to worry. Satoru closes out of his conversation with you, putting him back on his phone’s main screen. 
Suguru’s lips quirk into a small smile seeing Satoru had a new wallpaper even if it also made his chest tighten. It’s you blanketed in the red hoodie Satoru had bought for the trip to the beach, curled up and sleeping with rice flour lightly smudged on your cheek from the mochi you and Satoru had shared that night when things were still okay. “Do they even know you took that picture?” 
“Not a clue since they don’t get nosy when I’m on my phone unlike you,” he says teasingly. He holds the phone so Suguru can get a better look at the picture of you. 
“I’m surprised this is the picture you picked, all things considered.”
“I know..” he sighs. “That night is still a good memory though. It was the first time I thought ‘oh, they might actually like me too.’ they looked at me how they looked at you all the time.” 
This gives Suguru pause before he squeezes Satoru lightly. “I think they liked you before either of you realized it. They were just intimidated by you.” 
Satoru snorts. “And why would they have been-”
“Satoru, this goes back to me telling you to be more humble around our under classmen. While I doubt ___ would have you any other way now since they know you better, when you first met it was pretty obvious that they withdrew into themself when you started going on about being the strongest.” This makes Satoru pout as he slips his phone into his pocket. 
“Yeah yeah…”  
Suguru chuckles at Satoru’s pouting before brushing his lips along his jaw and releasing him.
“Ah. There was a thing I wanted to bring up about ___.” He says while turning to face Suguru who was now buttoning his uniform. 
“Oh? What about?” He raises a brow, Satoru’s change in tone grabbing his attention more than the statement itself. 
“I think we should recommend them for promotion.” 
This causes Suguru to pause and makes his brows furrow in concern. “They’re not ready to be a first grade, Satoru-” 
“To second grade. I think they’re ready for it.” 
The clarification on grade only soothes Suguru’s nerves slightly, the memory of you broken in his arms still vivid.  “I’m not so sure, you saw how close to death they were.” 
“So were we. The circumstances weren't exactly typical. They managed to survive a mission that was way above their grade. It’s not the sort of mission they’ll be getting sent out on solo or even with someone else. They wouldn’t have even been there if we hadn’t brought them.” Satoru’s tone is serious and Suguru’s sure he can hear regret in his voice as well. “But I also saw them fight more than once during the mission. Once against Q and then against that bastard. If they’d been fighting anyone else they would have done well.” Suguru wrinkles his nose, not looking pleased. 
“I still don’t think they’re ready. We should wait, let them gain more experience first.”
“Are you not willing to recommend them because you really don’t think they’re ready or is it because you’re being over protective?” 
Suguru bristles. “I don’t think you’re being protective enough-” 
“Is that our call to make? If they have the skills to advance in rank we’re doing them a disservice by holding them back. They’re strong, Suguru, they can handle it.” 
The air in the small dorm room feels charged as the two young men stand at odds. 
It’s several tense moments later that Suguru sighs. “I’ll think about it. I don’t like it but I’ll think about it.” Both Satoru and him know that he’ll likely end up saying yes to recommending you once he’s had the time to sit on Satoru’s words. With all the time Suguru spent training you he knew how much you’d grown and how capable you were it just pained him to think of you being sent on harder missions, especially solo. 
__
Back at present Suguru grumbles and cracks open an eye at you as you try to carefully scoot out from between Satoru and himself. It’s early, the morning sky just starting to lighten. He re-secures his hold around you and pulls you back up the bed and sticks his face in the mess of your bed head. He smiles at the sound of surprise you make. “And where do you think you’re going?” 
“I was going to go back to my room so I could start getting ready for today.” You give a half hearted huff before turning to wrap your arms around Suguru. “I didn’t want to wake the two of you up if you didn’t need to be up yet.”
“Mm too bad, woke up as soon as you tried to run away.” He squeezes you tighter and kisses the top of your head.
You stifle a giggle against his sleep shirt at his wording. “Isn’t being dramatic Satoru’s job?”
“Is what my job?” Those words and large yawn are all the warning you and Suguru get before Satoru is slinging one of his arms across the two of you as well as hooking a leg across to drag the three of you close together in the middle of the bed. 
Now securely trapped between them you whine. “Guys, it’s too hot out for this.” Really both of them were like furnaces which will probably be great in winter but wasn’t so great right now. “And I do need to get up and get ready.” 
Satoru whines. “But it’s still so early.”
“I’d like to be on time.”
“You’re not on time to things you’re always early to them,” he grumbles against your hair, nearly nose to nose with Suguru. 
“Being early is being on time!” 
“The fact that you’re the future principle’s kid is showing.” Satoru laments.
Suguru groans. “If the two of you are going back and forth you should just get up already.” 
You look at Suguru apologetically. “Sorry, Suguru..” You give him a peck on the nose before wiggling free from both boys. 
“Wait, don't I get a kiss too?” 
You stick your tongue out at Satoru before leaving the room. And several moments of silence follow where Sugru raises an expectant eyebrow at Satoru. He groans and rolls out of bed to follow you, and later that morning Suguru is amused to see Satoru already in class when he enters the room. Apparently you might actually be able to instill good habits in Satoru. 
Satoru only looks mildly annoyed to be here so early. Suguru figures it’s because he probably got the kiss he’d wanted from you. He was still so sensitive about getting just as much affection as he did. 
It’s when the two boys are packing up to leave that Yaga approaches them, two sheets of paper in hand. “Before you go I have missions for each of you.” He holds out the pages and Suguru notices there’s actually a third paper clinging close to the one passed to him. “Geto your mission will actually be with ___, it’s a way to ease them into more dangerous missions after their recovery.” 
Suguru nods and only half listens as Satoru is given a solo mission. It’s while they’re leaving the classroom that Satoru huffs and waves his hand in front of Suguru’s face, snapping him out of it. “Oi! Earth to Suguruuu,” he draws out his name, a pout pulling at his lips. “You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said.” 
He clears his throat. “Sorry, what were you saying?” He gives the taller boy an apologetic smile. 
“I said you’re lucky that you get to go on a mission with ___. I’m probably gonna be gone for several days all alone,” he laments. 
“Yeah.. lucky..” 
His tone catches Satoru’s attention. “What don’t you want them with you?”
“It’s classified as a first grade mission.” Suguru says plainly. 
Satoru’s expression softens a bit, “Yeah and they’re sending them with you, a special grade sorcerer. I think a special grade and second grade can handle it. Yaga said it was to ease them into harder missions by sending them with you.” 
Suguru doesn’t look entirely convinced. 
“You know, for someone who vouched for them with me for their promotion you sure don’t act like you have a lot of confidence in them.” 
That makes an annoyed look cross his features. “It’s not about-”  he pauses and takes a breath “-I do. I wouldn’t have agreed to recommend them for promotion otherwise.” 
Satoru looks at him, glasses sliding down his nose. Suguru wonders what he’s looking for but Satoru apparently finds it when he claps him on the shoulder and allows the topic to drop. 
“Come on, lets see if they want to join us for lunch.”
___
A plume of smoke passes Suguru’s lips as the two of you sit on a low, crumbling, old wall. The mission the two of you had gone on had gone well enough. More curses than either of you had expected but nothing that you couldn’t handle. Honestly you think Suguru could have handled it without you but you were happy to be there with him. The hand that isn’t holding his cigarette slides over your own, giving it a squeeze and returning some warmth that the chill evening had taken from your fingers. You turn your hand so you can return the gesture and you see a ghost of a smile turn his lips from the corner of your eye. 
You’d watched him choke down a curse a few minutes prior, throat bobbing and his pretty face twisting though he’d tried to hide it after. You think it’s strange how you’d never actually asked him much about his technique and how it’s different from your own. Both were curse manipulation but the methods were different.  
“You look like you have something on your mind.” Suguru’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. 
“Is it okay if I ask you something?”
He looks at you fully then. “Always.” He looks tired, he’s looked tired a lot lately though that’s not surprising. There’s an openness there too though, something that felt more and more reserved for only the people the very closest to him. 
“I’ve noticed you usually smoke after consuming curses… or is it just an after battle habit…” you trail off allowing the space for him to fill in. 
He’s not surprised by your question, perhaps a lil surprised that it’s taken you this long to ask though. “It’s to cover up the taste.” He loosens his grip on your hand and plays with your fingers. 
“Guess you know what I’m gonna ask next? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, I'm sure it’s nothing pleasant.” 
He surprises you with a laugh. “If it’s you it’s fine.” His words make your heart skip a beat. He loosely laces your fingers together. “I honestly thought you would have asked sooner. You’re always so worried about making others uncomfortable.” 
You can feel your cheeks heat up at that. He wasn’t wrong but… “I just felt like it might be rude.. I normally dodge the topic about my own technique if someone I’m not close to get’s nosy about it.”
He hums. “But we are close.” 
You nod, a comforting warmth settling in your chest at the affirmation of your bond that had started to take form back on that first mission together. “We are.” You look at your linked hands with a small yet warm smile.
“They taste like literal shit and vomit.” His words are matter of fact and cut through the gentle sentiment that had only been shared moments before. He laughs at the look that crosses your features before you can stop it. 
“Sorry-” you begin to choke out.
“Don’t apologize. I like how honest your expressions always are. Though perhaps you should work on controlling them a bit better for your own sake. But yes, it’s terrible. I normally keep either gum or cigarettes on hand to help cover the taste until I can rinse out my mouth.” 
You nod. “That’s.. Yeah.” you say lamely. The corner of his mouth quirks upward in amusement.
He finishes his cigarette and stubs it out. “Since we’re sharing, how about you tell me about your own technique?” He tilts his head, his bangs flopping to the side. “I can tell it’s unpleasant for you,” his voice is gentle.  
You glance again at your joined hands, looking at the black ink-like veins that had formed when you’d absorbed a curse earlier during the mission. You raise your eyes to meet Suguru’s. “It depends on the curse. It’s abilities, and how strong it is. The stronger the curse is the more difficult it is to absorb it even after it’s been subdued.” He’s watching your face but where your hands are joined you can feel him gently running a finger over one of those dark veins. It creates a strange sensation that makes you twitch.  “I’ve absorbed curses before where it felt like I was taking liquid fire directly into my veins, or like my arm is being shredded from the inside. The only thing that keeps me from rejecting some of the curses is looking at my arm and seeing that it’s still whole even if it is covered in a web of dark veins. Other curses are easier, still unpleasant but not so bad that I want to detach my own arms. More like a bad case of pins and needles…” You trail off and with your hand not being held by Suguru you rub your arm you’d absorbed a curse with.
Suguru is focused on you intently as you speak. He knew that absorbing curses was painful for you, that much was easy to see, though he hadn’t realized the range of sensation it could cause. “And even going through that you were the one who apologized to me on that first mission while you were bent over your arm in pain,” his tone is both gentle and admonishing. 
You shift slightly. “..My timing was bad and I became too transfixed on the pain, if you hadn’t been there I would have gotten myself-” 
He grips your hand and lifts it so he’s able to slide further into your space. “But that’s what I’m here for right? To look out for you and protect you, it was true on that first mission just as it’s true now.” The softness is still in his voice but his eyes have a new intensity to them as he looks at you that makes you squirm a little.
Reaching up a hand you brush back his bangs before cupping his cheek. “I gotta be able to stand on my own too though. For the times I’m alone.” Your response doesn’t seem to soothe him at all. 
“That was my biggest concern when Satoru and I  recommended you for promotion. He‘s convinced you’ll be okay but I can’t help but-” 
“Suguru… Do you regret vouching for my promotion?” There’s nothing accusatory in your tone, just honest curiosity. “I’ll be honest I had my own doubts when I found out I was getting promoted..” Your hand falls from his cheek and you look away from him. 
Something like guilt eats at Suguru in that moment, seeing you suddenly look unsure and withdrawing from him even the slightest bit. He lets out a slow breath, he thinks back on his conversation with Satoru. “No.. I don’t regret it. You’re capable and deserve to be recognized for your skills.” Using your hand that he’s still holding he pulls you against his chest suddenly his other arm coming up to wrap around your back. “I’m just.. I care about you and the idea of anything happening to you just…” 
You melt against him instantly and you nuzzle your cheek against his chest. ”It scares you right?” 
He swallows “It does,” he admits and squeezes you tighter.
“I wish I could tell you that I’ll always be okay but… I can’t know that. But what I do know is i’ll always fight my hardest to make it back to you and Satoru, okay?” 
He huffs a small laugh. “Won’t even tell me a pretty lie huh?”
“Would it actually help if I did?’
A beat of silence and then a sigh ruffles your hair. 
“No. It wouldn’t. I’ll just have to trust you then to fight like hell.” 
You pull back slightly and smile up at him and it’s full of so much warmth Suguru thinks it could burn him up and he’d gladly let it. “Didn’t make it this far by not being a fighter.” He can’t help but smile back at you, even if he’s not entirely comforted.  He’d have to trust you to be capable, he can do that even if the unpredictable nature of being a sorcerer means there’s no guarantees.
___
And that's that for this chapter. I'll try to not take too long for next update but I have a few halloween event fics i need to put some focus on. Like I said above let me know if you guys are interested in seeing the exchange event.
Tag list: @strawberrystepmom @nanamikentoseyebags @gojoest @icy-spicy @sleezzsister @moonsua1 @yuuuumii @yokaimoon @chibiizzy @porridgesblog @suhmie @defacatestenderly @agentdedf1sh
I hope that's everyone! I tend to base my tags based off who tagged on the previous chapter and whoever asks on the latest update.
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onenicebugperday · 10 months
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Submissions page is still broken for me, but I have a dragonfly to share from a few nights ago. Behold: the world’s angriest blunt!
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Or, rather, disoriented guy I rescued from the bug-unfriendly porch light that, understandably, didn’t appreciate being caught and decided to bite the heck out of one of my fingers about it. Ouch! But it was worthwhile to help the little fella out, as it would’ve either damaged its wings hitting the glass or been burnt by the incandescent bulb. Once I got a proper hold on it(see: above picture) I took it to the backyard where there were far fewer lights to get confused by and many safer places to perch. Plus, that’s where all the mosquitoes tend to be. Usually what happens at this point is I let go and the dragonfly takes off immediately. This one must’ve either realized I wasn’t a threat or just needed the insect equivalent of a breather. Whatever the reason, it hung out on my index finger.
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I tried to gently nudge it off with my thumb, but instead of cooperating it simply started perching on that instead. Classic dragonfly move. It even waved at me.
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Then it gave me a little kiss…
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NOT! It was in fact considering committing an act of violence, but ultimately didn’t in the end. Just lightly scraped its mouthparts on me.
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By this point I was tired and sweaty and wanted to go back indoors, so I attempted to coax it onto a stick I often see similarly sized dragonflies land on. That was apparently not acceptable to this one, though, and it immediately took off directly into my face before landing on a(much flimsier) plant.
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A far cry from the other times I’ve handled this particular species. The first one was in a bad spot at the college I go to, but allowed me to just scoop it up and walk away with it perched on my fingers, before taking off into a gust of wind several minutes later. The others had also been victims of the nefarious porch light, but the longest any lingered was just a few seconds before taking off, and none ever bit me. Just a lesson in not getting complacent with wildlife based on a few good past experiences, I guess!
Goodness, this one was particularly feisty! Agreed that most dragonflies I've handled have been chill about it, but a few have tried to nibble my flesh. So it goes! Still better to help them out, I think. Glad this fella was successfully moved and neither one of you was seriously maimed :P
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