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apomaro-mellow · 5 months ago

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Daft and Dewey Eyed 4

Part 3

In the quiet stillness of the house, it was easy for all of Eddie's insecurities to seep in. The thought that he might spend his life all alone. He sat on his stool in the kitchen, waiting for the tea to be ready. His mind drifted to the handsome stranger he had met in town. What if that had been his one chance at happiness?

Should he have jumped at it? Would that have looked desperate? Eddie let out a shuddering breath and knew he was on the verge of crying. He stood up suddenly and went over to the window, gazing up at the starry night. One of these had to be a wishing star, right?

He put his hands together and spoke just about a whisper.

“I wish I could go to the ball. I wish I could go.”

“You spend your nights just wishing?”, a gruff voice said.

Eddie jumped at the sudden appearance of a man at his window. “What the-!?” He stepped back and grabbed a wooden spoon, holding it like a sword. “Who are you?!”

He looked like someone Eddie might’ve seen in town. Maybe a farm hand or someone who did a trade. He didn’t look incredibly dangerous. But it was a fact that he had just suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

“I’m your fairy godfather”, the stranger answered.

Eddie pursed his lips as he slowly lowered the wooden spoon. "You're my fairy godfather?", he said, none too impressed.

The man at his window scratched the hairs on his chin. "You were probably expecting a pretty lady in a dress, right?"

"No, I was actually expecting nothing."

“Well that’s what I am. Now you answer my question. Do you just spend your whole night wishing and only wishing?”

Eddie frowned. “What’s wrong with wishing? It’s all I’ve got.”

“I’d like to continue this conversation inside, like civilized folk.”

“Alright, you can come in”, Eddie said just as the kettle whistled. He moved to turn the stove off and when he turned back around, the man was in the kitchen with him.

“How did you-?”

“Magic. It comes with the title.”

“The fairy godfather title?”, Eddie smirked.

“You can just call me Wayne. And maybe it’d help if you thought of me more like an uncle.”

“An uncle?”

“The kind that comes every so often, gives you a couple of gifts, maybe a little advice.”

“What do I need advice on?”, Eddie asked, arms crossed.

“Well for starters, wishing is only the first part. After you have a wish you need to actually do something about it.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and sat down. “Yeah, as if I could just walk into the castle and cut a rug on the dance floor. It’s impossible.”

“Impossible”, Wayne scoffed. “Is that all you wish?”

“I wouldn’t mind bein’ free of this place either. But I can’t just walk out the door.”

Wayne crossed his arms. “You got two working legs, don’t you? The world is full of daft fools like that. Wanting things that seem impossible and never really going for it.”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re stubborn like a mule?”

“Some might call it tenacity. And I’d say it’s gotten me pretty far. I’d also say that you got a little in you too. Takes tenacity to take the daily abuse you go through.”

Eddie snorted, dismissive but Wayne continued.

“I’m serious. Plenty of folks in your position would’ve given up wishing at all. But you’ve still got hope. You still want something outta life.”

“I do”, Eddie admitted. “But the castle is miles away and even if I sneak in, they’ll kick me out.”

“Well, you’re right about the distance. And the hoity-toits don’t take too kindly to a boy in rags.” Wayne clapped his hands together. “Alright, let’s go.”

“Go where? Hey, go where?”, Eddie urged, following him outside.

Wayne appraised the area, then went over to the pumpkin patch. He walked through the gourds, looking down at them and then bending down at one. He tapped it and then shook his head. He tapped this one and then nodded. He cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together. Eddie’s eyes got wide as fairy dust emanated from them and the pumpkin rolled out of the patch, growing in size and transforming.

Right before his eyes, it became a magnificent silver carriage. Wayne continued to inspect the patch and whistled about three or four times and a small pack of mice scurried from underfoot, shifting into horses, footmen, and a driver.

“You’re all set kid”, Wayne said, looking proud of his work.

“Um”, Eddie cleared his throat and gestured at himself. “Not exactly fancy ball material here.”

“You got a point. Alright, hold your arms out and spin around.”

“Spin around?”

“Don’t make me do all the work, boy.”

Eddie did as he was ordered, arms held out and spun in a slow circle. The fairy dust engulfed him and he felt something like a warm hug. Like soup in his belly, like coming home. When the dust faded, he looked down at himself. The beiges and browns had been replaced with black and silver. Rings adorned his fingers. With a flick of his wrist, Wayne made a mirror appear so that Eddie could see his face. It was like there were diamonds in his hair.

He almost didn’t recognize himself.

“Feel ready now?”, Wayne asked.

“Is this really happening?”

“It really is. One last thing though. The magic fades at midnight. So you’ve gotta be back home by then.”

“You’re giving me a curfew?”, Eddie pouted.

“Them’s the rules. Now what was that you said about this being impossible?”

Eddie beamed as he stepped into the carriage. “I guess it was possible after all.”

Part 5 coming soon

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #wayne munson

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sneakersnacks · 1 year ago

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Come Back Safe to Me

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long, I just haven't been home the past two weeks and now my fiancé and I are going to a wedding this weekend that is out of state, so more driving lol.

Please enjoy everyone, I am always open to ideas and whatnot so just shoot them my way :)

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/sneakersnacks/729235462263390208/come-back-safe-to-me?source=share

Part 1:

https://www.tumblr.com/sneakersnacks/729117150526291968/come-back-safe-to-me?source=share

When walking into Ghost's house it's everything that you expected it to be, very minimalistic, nothing on the walls, a sofa and recliner in the living room in front of a TV. A very plain kitchen that you could tell isn't used often, that will probably have to change.

He seemed a little sheepish, letting you into his space. "It's not much, but ya know, I'm never here anyways. I already have your room straightened out at the end of the hall." He explains, walking down the hallway, your bag in hand. "Mine is right here if ya need anything." He gestures to the room across from yours.

The room was a decent size, a queen size bed in the center with a dresser and nightstand. Again, white walls with white curtains draped from the window. "I really appreciate this, thank you." You say, expressing your gratitude.

He didn't respond vocally, just with a small nod. He set your bag down and left you in your room by yourself, closing the door behind him. You stood there in your room, putting away your clothes in your dresser and putting some things in the night stand; your journal, anxiety meds, a few photos of you and your brothers. You reached the bottom of your bag, and there it lay, your biggest secret. You would never admit this to anyone or let anyone see, but you carry your childhood stuffed animal with you wherever you go. It's the only thing you really have left of home.

You aren't in touch enough with your older siblings, you will call maybe twice a year to let them know you are still alive and to send gifts to your nieces and nephew but that was about it. You took out the small stuffed toy and placed it under your pillows.

You walked down the hallway and noticed Ghost's door was closed, leaving him to his privacy. You went to the kitchen to see where everything was. The kettle was on the stove, and a tiny coffee pot was on the counter. You looked in the fridge and cupboards, you'll need to do some shopping. You automatically started making a shopping list in your brain, noting what you need.

You heard Ghosts' door open, and his heavy footsteps come down the hallway. You were still looking through the cupboards when you heard him enter the kitchen. You turn around and immediately turn back to cupboards, your face bright red. It was your first time seeing Ghost in just civilian clothes. A tight black shirt that seemed to hug every muscle and some sweatpants that hinted at his thighs and well other regions. He wore only a plain black balaclava. You assumed this was just what he wore casually. He didn't need to wear the skull plate around all the time.

"I already have someone dropping off groceries in a bit, even got you some coffee and a coffee pot." He says, you try to compose yourself and turn to face him, giving him a light smile.

"I noticed, thank you, tea was never really my thing."

"Not surprised." He gruffs and rolls his eyes.

"So what do you usually do when you have time off?" You ask him, and he shrugs his shoulders.

"I don't usually take the time off unless I have to, or Price forces me. I read occasionally, hike, whatnot." He explains, and you nod your head.

"Why did you choose to do this, Ghost?" You felt a little more at ease to ask him this.

"I….I need to keep an eye on you. Keep you safe while you recover. You don't need any more mishaps." He explains. His demeanor changed a bit when you asked. He was a bit tense and shifted his weight on his feet when he was responding. He finds a comfortable stance and takes a deep breath in and let's it out slowly, "Crow, when I saw you on the helis floor with Alea trying to dig out those bullets, I have never been so afraid to lose someone before, it happens a lot in our field of work, its normal but seeing you unresponsive..... I didn't know what to do with myself." He made his way to the table and sat in one of the chairs, his head in his hands. You walk over, debating on placing your hand on his shoulder. You knew how he was, touching Ghost wasn't a normal thing to do but you lightly placed your hand on his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.

"Ghost...." you aren't sure of the words you should say, you just needed him to feel that you were okay and that you were there for him. Your guys odd friendship was an ongoing puzzle between you two, and it didn't seem to have an end. It took you a long time to trust him and he trust you.

----

Price walks into the room with you following behind him, you seem to peak everyone's interest. It has been a while since a new recruit came into the 141 and to be fair you weren't the norm of someone joining the task force.

"Everyone I'd like for you to meet our new recruit, Crow. They are a hell of a fighter and knows how to get shit done. Be nice and treat 'er like family." He states as he introduces you to everyone. Soap and Gaz seem nice, you met Price through Laswell when she first suggested to him that you join the task force. They greet you and whatnot, but one person stays in their seat, the infamous Ghost. You didn't expect to be buddy buddy with him, you've heard the stories about him and even had a chance to read his file. You wouldn't push it past him if he knew you were joining before anyone else, he probably read your file as well.

He just looked at you from his chair, his cold eyes scanning you up and down. You've dealt with men his size, they weren't as scary as him but you knew from then on you would prove to him you belonged here. You met his gaze and held it until he abruptly got out of his chair and left the big office.

"Don't worry about it Lass, he will warm up to ya." Soap says with a chuckle. You try to give him your best smile for reassurance but something stirs in you and you don't know what it is.

----

You felt Ghost place his hand on top of yours, snapping you out of your thoughts. You can count on one hand how many times you've seen him without gloves on, you try to remember all the little scars on on his hand. Everything from the little scars to the bigger ones that made you curious about what he went through to get them.

Ghost's hand on yours sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but notice the warmth of his touch. It wasn't a gesture you were accustomed to from him, and it left you feeling strangely exposed and vulnerable.

As your eyes met his, you saw something in them that you hadn't seen before – a glimmer of something more than friendship, a hint of emotion that seemed to transcend the boundaries of your unconventional relationship.

The two of you sat there in the quiet of the kitchen, his fingers gently intertwined with yours. You felt a growing tension in the air, a palpable connection that neither of you had acknowledged until now. It was as if the unspoken words hung in the space between you, waiting to be voiced.

The moment was cut short due to a knock at the door, both of you pulled away, the spell broken, and Ghost stood up to answer the door. A delivery person stood there with bags of groceries, and Ghost took them, thanking the delivery man as he closed the door.

"Let me make dinner tonight?" You ask taking the groceries from his hand and going back into the kitchen.

"You're supposed to technically still be resting and recovering." he says crossing his arms, "I can cook tonight".

The evening sun cast a warm glow throughout the cozy living room. Ghost watched as you expertly unpacked the groceries, a playful smirk on your lips. The moment of shared intimacy before the interruption lingered in the air, but now it was time to decide who would take charge of dinner.

You raised an eyebrow and teased, "Do you even know how to cook anything besides adding water to MREs and instant dinners? I see what you eat on base."

Ghost chuckled and leaned against the kitchen counter. "Well, I can certainly manage more than that," he replied with a sly grin.

You both locked eyes, a silent challenge passing between you. In the end, you decided to take the lead, pulling out chicken and assorted vegetables to prepare a home-cooked meal. The evening promised not only a delicious dinner but also the continuation of a moment that had been so rudely interrupted.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader

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an-inky-fingered-lass · 8 months ago

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illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

A collection of ficlets set in the 'get out my machete and battle with time once again' universe. And yes, I'm realizing I definitely need a catchier name. Full series on Ao3.

chapter 3 -- as we lay our wars to rest

It was a restless night.

Pines whipped, thunder crashing like someone was bowling with furniture on the roof of the world. May lay awake for a long time, listening to the rain, and thought about myths that bled just like they did, about the pieces this world would never be.

It was hard to reconcile how small it was, in the grand scheme of things. The world. May had spent so much of her life flying over greens and blues and browns, looking down, but that had still been under the sky. You couldn’t see it the same way once you’d looked down from the other side.

Her dreams, when she finally fell asleep, were a jumble of familiarity. A warehouse, a little girl; but this was a girl with faraway eyes and trust in her hands-- and another girl, with rumpled blond hair and her father’s eyes, her mother’s nimble, curious fingers. It was an old home, not a warehouse, walls that were no longer hers but that she remembered loving. May dreamed of her cockpit, no splinters in her palms; peaceful evenings and threat she’d spent years comfortable in, safety she was learning. She awoke slowly, as dawn arrived, like her body hadn’t decided whether it had actually gotten any rest or not.

It was an indecisive sort of morning. Melinda liked those even less than the bad ones; she’d spent years learning to live with those, live through them, and they didn’t come around often any more. The indecisive, thin unease was just annoying.

Tai chi helped. There was a reason why she’d settled herself into routines, why she’d built them into herself and her time even when nothing much else in her life had been predictable. Phil did fine with less structure to his days, could unwind easily in that flexibility, but these had always been her hours, the first rays of sun crawling into a drowsy sky.

It had brightened into a pale, breakable blue by the time Phil was up, the air cold and crisp and no longer so heavy with damp. There were pine needles scattered everywhere, a thick bed of leaves that swallowed up sound instead of crackling, but the storm had come and gone without doing any damage.

May went out to coat her boots in mud after breakfast. There was a worn old trail out back that looped around on itself, that brought her back home if she just walked far enough.

Phil had been gentler than he needed to be, that morning, patient enough for the both of them. He'd set the kettle like there were at least five people waiting for tea. It just wasn’t a day for talking, at least not yet, and there wasn’t any urgency to their days any more. She hadn’t known how to breathe without it, at first, but she’d had a handful of years now to ease into the relief of it. She was starting to be able to feel like they’d been doing this for a long time.

May stepped back onto the wood of the porch with her pockets full of wild golden raspberries (she hadn’t been planning on going that way, but once she did she couldn’t just walk past the bushes). Her thigh was aching again, knees putting up a protest she was staunchly ignoring, but she felt steady for the first time that morning.

She came through the front door to the sound of music.

It was acoustic, earthy tones. Folky. Phil was sitting by his desk, but he’d gone still, probably forgotten all about whatever he’d been doing. She knew he’d heard her come in, but she leaned one shoulder against the wall and just listened, eyes on the window and the sunlight tumbling in.

Their tastes in music were as wildly different as ever, but this was nice, whatever it was. Something about sunshine and the time that you have.

May watched the curve of Phil’s shoulders, rubbed a gentle palm against the wood paneled walls.

They had grandkids now. They’d get to watch them grow.

She stepped across the floor as the song ended.

Phil stood to meet her, eyes soft and damp, and she smiled at them, at him, at how easy the peaceable emotion still came to him, after everything. She would never have that. She didn’t mind. She was learning her own peace, laying down her arms without needing it to feel right. This was a choice, calmness and patience and birdsong in the birth of a new dawn.

She was burying her wars in long walks home and raspberries in her pockets. There were ghosts to both their names, hanging around this little cabin, and they were welcome to stay as long as they needed, provided they held their peace.

#i FINALLY figured out the double endnote problem i've had since the very first work i ever posted i'm very proud of myself #wrote this one a good while ago and meant to wait to post it after patch of sunlight #and then somehow never got around to it #but it's one of my favorites so far #retired badass is apparently my absolute favorite trope to write so tv tropes informs me...#agents of shield au #retirement fic #aos fanfic #melinda may #phil coulson #philinda fic #philinda #agents of shield fanfiction #the peaceful retirement au #series: get out my machete and battle with time once again #ficlet #inkspinner fic

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ask-healthy-light · 2 years ago

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Waving his hoof and shaking his head after he wondered about the knowledge of the Pillars, quietly, yet audibly whispering to himself that he probably did not want to know how they knew, Boom quickly moved on to another subject, and asked Pinkie to wait for a moment, as he went to grab his satchel, in which he had taken along the copied journal of the Bearded, that he had generously given to him.

Soon after, Boom returned with his satchel and the journal, which was still wrapped in a protective cover, just like the original, which had now been brought back to the Palace, and carefully took it out of the package, whereafter Boom let her see both the notes he had taken, as well as the maps he had copied, leading to areas whither he and Light would travel, as he pulled out a small checklist.

When he took out the checklist, Pinkie did not understand one thing of what was written upon it, as the language was one she knew not, yet Boom managed to read it effortlessly, like it was his native tongue, while he moved down from row to row, placing the accompanying maps next to the items on the list, explaining, albeit briefly, which places he would head next, and for which materials he went.

Though she did not understand the list written in an ancient tongue, Pinkie was able to recognise a couple of the maps, and by her own imagination and the spark she witnessed, ever so briefly, in his eye, Pinkie smiled, and she wondered what secrets could still be hidden in places she knew, waiting to be uncovered as if these were treasures of old, the knowledge of their existence long forgotten.

But just as quickly as she thought of this, she was gently snapped out of her focus by Boom putting his hoof on her shoulder as he closed the journal, and started putting away all of the documents he had gathered, before he told her, holding a big yawn as best he could, that he was glad to be back, but for now, though he enjoyed talking about his successful studies, he wanted to head back to bed.

To this, Pinkie gave him a gentle smile and a slow, affirming nod, though, before he could suddenly vanish upstairs, she asked him to help her to clear up the mugs and plates they used, as it was the least he could do to help her and the Cakes while he stayed here; then, after Boom put the journal, and all the gathered documents on the table, he helped Pinkie to clear up, which did not take long.

While Boom and Pinkie finished clearing up the kitchen, after which they would head to bed, back in the Empire, a similar event would not take place for a while yet, since neither Nox, nor Light, nor Luna wished to head to bed, so, every so often, one of the three got up to put on another kettle of water, or to grab some more biscuits, while they spent the night casually chatting with each other.

Wonderfully enough, as they talked amongst themselves, they did not feel tired, nor did they notice time was passing quicker than they realised, for though they had told themselves they would head to bed again soon, when Light noticed a tiny ray of light shining onto the ceiling through the window, they chuckled and proceeded to point it out to Nox and Luna, who looked at each other, and laughed.

Then, Light put their hoof to their face, striking a dramatic pose, let out a deep, overexaggerated sigh, and said that all of them would regret this lovely night, in an obviously sarcastic voice, as they would surely fall asleep at the most inopportune time, making both Nox and Luna try to hold in their laughter, before they failed and burst out laughing with Light, whose drama easily shattered.

It took a while before the three were able to calm down and quiet themselves again, whereafter they waited for a little while to make sure their laughter did not wake up anypony else, until some time had passed, and it became clear they were the only ones awake; at that moment, Light and Nox looked at each other, before smiling, nodding, and turning to Luna, and asking her, almost simultaneously:

"Would you like to join us outside for a walk?"

(Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

Send an ask or request! | Start at the beginning! | Next part!

Featuring: Boomlord from @thedumbguywithaheart43 Nox Lunarwing from @nox-lunarwing

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penig · 11 days ago

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Okay, so, I'm very much in favor of people doing something with their downtime other than just phone-scrolling, but, as a geezer, I think it's time to introduce a bit of perspective.

You know that Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon album synchs perfectly with the action of The Wizard of Oz movie if you start it at the right point, right? Ever think about who happened to find that correlation? Well, I don't know who in the sense that I could tell you name, address, or age; but I know Who, in that it could only have been someone smoking weed while listening to albums in a dark room (probably a basement) and watching TV with the sound off when the movie happened to be what was playing on the channel they'd randomly landed on. It was the 70s.

In the 90s I read a memoir by a poet, in which she described a machine - I think they called it a "dream machine" - built by someone in her circle during the 60s. It generated lights and shadows and I think sounds and thirty years later the poet remarked that she couldn't, in retrospect, believe how much time they wasted, just staring at this contraption.

In 1909, E.M. Forster wrote a short story called "The Machine Stops," about a society where humanity interacted solely in and through a machine which did all the hard and even incidental labor; with the result that when the machine broke down, the society did, too. You think he wrote that in a vacuum?

Every modern generation (at least!) has an innovation which is Destroying the Youth. And sure, technology changes the way we interact with the world, and some of those changes aren't particularly good for us. But we all have to veg out sometimes, and technology puts us through veg-out fads to which certain age groups are particularly prone, and then the technology and our relationship to it changes.

The habits of individuals change.

Every older person with a longer attention span and a different pattern of reward-seeking OP knows had a period when they were doing something just as unproductive and apparently brain-altering as endlessly scrolling. They were sacked out on the couch watching game shows or soap operas or synching up The Wizard of Oz with Dark Side of the Moon or looking at a dream machine throwing light and shadows on the wall.

Eventually, they got bored with it. Or they got a pet, or kids, or got involved in the local community garden or looked out the window of their high rise office and saw a flock of hawks kettling ten feet away and had an instant conversion to birdwatching. Or they realized that they were happier in the evenings on the days they missed the bus and had to walk home than on the days they got home earlier and spent that time doing the vegging activity. They probably still do the vegging activity, but they do it differently. Less often. More selectively. Whatever.

Your brain keeps changing as you age. Technology affects some of those changes; but some of those changes are as old as mankind. You will not be in thirty years what you are now, and who that person is, is not dictated by your vegging out routine today.

Most anti phone advice is so inane and regurgitated to me but one thing I’ve been thinking about for days is “social media is okay, but the real danger comes in when you think your phone should be your go to during your limited pockets of leisure” like that’s literally the truest thing ever

#the more things change the more they stay the same #generally applicable

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thegettingbyp2 · 2 years ago

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Hi!!! May I request a short fem! Reader x Johnny Knoxville?

Like they had a fight over something dumb and they’re on the outs. And after a few hours he sees her trying to reach something and because he’s taller he gets it and then teases her and it’s all fluffy and they make up?

The Top Shelf

You were curled up in the window seat of the study in yours and Johnny’s house, your head buried in your book, doing everything you could to ignore the argument that you and Johnny had just had. It wasn’t often that the two of you got into an argument but that also meant that every time you did argue, it was quick to blow up and wildly out of proportion.

Take the argument you two had just had, for example. You had made a light comment about Johnny maybe cutting back on a few stunts so he wouldn’t get as hurt all the time, especially as he was getting older. He instantly took this to mean that you were saying that he should quit which inevitably led to a heated argument between the two of you.

Not long after you had finally been able to immerse yourself into your book, you heard footsteps climb the stairs before stopping in the doorway to the study. Knowing it could only be one person, you didn’t bother to look up from your book.

‘Baby?’ Johnny’s voice spoke softly, pausing while he waited for an answer that never came. Deciding that he would be better off letting you cool down for a moment, the footsteps began to grow quieter as he went back downstairs and you heard the faint muffle of the TV as he turned it on. You let out a breath before turning your attention back to your book, having to reread the past two pages which you had paid absolutely no attention to while you felt Johnny’s eyes on you.

Realising that you weren’t going to be able to concentrate on your book, you sighed before putting it down on the seat next to you and moving out of the room before making your own way downstairs. As you turned the kitchen light on, you heard Johnny pause the TV as he tried to listen out for what you were doing. You put the kettle on and opened the cupboard to grab yours and Johnny’s mugs; even though you were mad at him, you’d still make him a drink, it was almost second nature to you. You placed Johnny’s chipped mug on the kitchen counter and reached back up to grab your own. You frowned when your hand felt the space your mug usually sat only to find that it was empty. Looking into the cupboard you saw that your mug had been moved to the top shelf; the only shelf in the cupboard you couldn’t reach.

Smiling softy to yourself at Johnny’s attempt to get you to talk to him again, you headed into the living room and leant against the door frame as Johnny’s head turned to look at you.

‘Can you get my cup out of the cupboard, please?’ you asked, not quite meeting his eyes because you knew that Johnny’s face would make you break out into a grin and you were stillmad at him.

‘Isn’t it in its normal place, doll?’ he asked, knowing full well that it wasn’t because he was the one who had moved it.

‘No, and you know it so please can you help me?’

Johnny smiled at you and the two of you headed into the kitchen. Standing directly behind you, Johnny wrapped one arm around your front, holding you against him as his other arm reached up to grab your mug, setting it down gently next to his on the counter. Instead of letting you go, he wrapped his other arm around you as well and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

‘I’m sorry, I blew up, baby,’ he murmured into your hair. ‘I just don’t like the idea that some point, probably soon, I’m not going to be able to be doing this anymore so I want to do as much as I can in the time I have.’

You couldn’t help but lean back into him, resting your head against his chest as one of your hands came up to rest gently on his cheek, smiling when you felt him nuzzle into your touch. ‘I know, I’m sorry too. I just worry that it’s going to go to far and one day you won’t come back home to me.’

‘I’ll always come home to you. I love you.’

‘I love you too,’ you sighed happily, patting his arms lightly to get him to let you go. ‘Now, can you grab the milk so I can actually make these drinks?’

Johnny laughed into your hair, pressing one more kiss to your head before stepping away from you. ‘Of course I can baby.’

#johnny knoxville #johnny knoxville x reader #johnny knoxville imagine

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we-are-so-close · 2 years ago

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Levi x gn!reader wc: 1.2k a/n: D-12 to Levi's birthday! this piece is for @levi-supreme Rei's Happy Birthday Levi event! thanks for letting me join :) this was so fun and i kinda love domestic levi

Frosted window panes, candles gleaming inside, painted candy canes on the tree…

The song softly drifted through the room. Levi stirred, pulling your pillow into him. It was not the warm body he was expecting to be nestled against him. He slowly opened his eyes and stared at your side of the bed. He blinked once, twice, three times as he tried to get acclimated to the mostly dark room. When he got the confirmation that you were indeed not in bed, he turned over and checked the time. 5:07 am. Too early, even for Levi’s standards.

“Tch,” he grumbled as he got out of bed and pulled on his robe. The house felt darker than usual as he made his way searching for you. Light and music were spilling from the kitchen. It looked warm, it sounded warm, and it smelled…different. Not like the normal breakfast confections.

Levi stood in the doorway and just watched you. The kitchen, which is usually pristine, looked like a winter wonderland. String lights of white and blue were hanging along the walls of the kitchen. There was flour and powdered sugar covering the entire surface of the island counter. A pot on the stove began to steam and foam. You had noticed and set the bowl of what you were stirring down to attend to the pot on the stove. Once the bubbles subsided, you let out a deep sigh before getting back to your previous task.

“What are you doing?” Levi finally broke you from your holiday frenzy.

“Ah, Levi! You’re up earlier than usual!”

“Says the person baking and cooking at 5 in the morning…it’s so early, dove.” He pushed himself off of the doorframe and made his way over to you. “I was going to tell you to come back to bed, but I can see that you’re occupied.”

“I-I wanted to do something special for you!”

“Special? For me? You know you don’t have to do that.” His features were soft and the way he was looking at you made heat rush to your face.

“Yes, but I want to. I saw that we were supposed to get a lot of snow today and it was supposed to be really cold. And I wanted to make it a fun day for both of us, since we’ll probably be stuck inside.” The end of your sentence trailed off, the more you spoke, the more silly you felt.

He took your face in his hands, brushed off some of the flour that had settled on your forehead and replaced it with a kiss. The softness in his eyes never faltered. A hint of a smile begins to spread across his face.

“What did I do to deserve your thoughtfulness?” he hummed as he rested his forehead against yours. “If you want to go get cleaned up, I can watch what you have here. I’ll put on the kettle for some tea.”

“Wait! Before you do that,” you grabbed his hand and led him to the table, “I made some peppermint hot chocolate! I was hoping you would try it.” Quickly, you grabbed a mug from the cabinet and poured in the concoction you had on the stove. Topped with marshmallows and a candy cane, you set your creation in front of your husband.

Levi stared at you, his eyebrows scrunched. To you, it read as something similar to frustration and anxiety. First, he wakes up earlier than intended, and now you want to deprive him of his morning tea?

“I made it from scratch. And it’s my first time making it, so I don’t actually know how good it is.” As you talked, the doubt began to linger within you. “Um, I’ll turn on the kettle.” You turned on your heel as fast as you could, but Levi’s hand was faster. He pulled you down onto his lap and held you tightly in his embrace.

“I’ll try it, but you have to try it with me. I can’t promise I’ll drink the whole thing, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”

His fingertips softly rubbed circles in your back, effectively calming your nerves. You sighed at his touch. It wasn’t too often that the both of you were up early together like this, and it wasn’t often that you had the opportunity to make something for him like this. He’s usually up before you, and you usually get home later than he’d like. But it’s little moments like this that you both have come to really appreciate.

“I think I just got over ambitious with being festive,” you hummed.

“Nonsense. That’s one of your best qualities.” He kissed the tip of your nose.

“You don’t have to drink it, my love. I know it’s out of your comfort zone.”

“I can say the same for you. Making something new is out of your comfort zone, the least I can do is appreciate your hard work.”

“And you’ll be honest with me?”

“Always,” he said, a tenderness in his eyes that only you were able to see.

He moved the mug closer to him. The marshmallows had begun to lose their form and were halfway melted onto the surface of the hot chocolate. He cautiously stirred the drink with the candy cane, his concentration focused solely on the beverage in front of him. Little tufts of steam rose from the mug as he carefully pulled it closer to his lips. You watched him intently, waiting to see his response.

He always kept a straight face, so even the slightest twitch, you knew that something was off.

“You hate it,” you said, disappointment coating your words, even though you tried to hide it.

“I don’t. It’s not as sweet as it smells, but it’s still maybe a little too sweet for me,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Oh.”

“Hey,” his voice was calm, his thumb and forefinger carefully tilted your chin so your eyes were in contact with his. “There’s only one sweet thing I’ll ever get a second helping on.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him trying to think of what he could be talking about.

“It’ll always be you.”

Oh. oh…you felt the heat rush to your face as he pulled you in for a kiss. You could taste the peppermint on his breath; it was kind of refreshing, and made your lips tingle. Before the two of you could continue what Levi started, the oven beeped.

“Ah, the gingerbread!” you shouted as you jumped up from Levi’s lap.

“More things for me to eat?” he asked with some concern.

“Oh, nope! This gingerbread is going to be used for making gingerbread houses! The person with the best house gets to pick tonight’s movie,” you smiled your cheesiest smile.

Levi stood up and stretched before walking over to grab the kettle and chuckled, “looks like this thing will be working overtime today.”

The house was warm. Being filled with baked treats and hot drinks would do that. But there was also a different kind of warm feeling that filled the house. The kind of feeling only two people in love can give off. And as long as you both had each other, no cold day could stop the two of you from spreading your warmth.

#rei's event: happy birthday levi 2022 #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi #levi x reader

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lefttigerobservation · 3 years ago

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having read so many books this past holiday, i thought i'd also share my favourite parts of "a monster calls" by patrick ness before i go ahead and buy the book <3 here goes my 205-pages-in-one-sitting-crying-marathon (bear in mind i read the illustrated one)

(pg 17) "There's the smile I love," his mum said, reaching for the kettle as it clicked off. Then she said, with mock-horror, "She's going to bring me some of her old wigs, if you can believe it." She rubbed her bare head with her free hand. "I'll look like a zombie Margaret Thatcher." (...) "You're a good boy," she said again. "I wish you didn't have to be quite so good."

(pg 29) Open up, the monster said, its voice as clear as if the window wasn't between them. I want to talk to you.

"Yeah, sure," Conor said, keeping his voice low. "Because that's what monsters always want. To talk."

The monster smiled. It was a ghastly sight. If I must force my way in, it said, I will do so happily.

It raised a gnarled woody fist to punch through the wall of Conor's bedroom.

"No!" Conor said. "I don't want you to wake my mum."

(pg 35) Stories are the wildest things of all, the monster rumbled. Stories chase and bite and hunt.

(pg 38) Love how Ness describes Conor's grandma and the chaotic energy she brings with her at the start.

(pg 49) "Who cares even if I didn't?!" Conor shouted back. "They're just stupid berries. Woo-hoo, so scary. Oh, please, please, save me from the berries!"

The monster looked at him quizzically. How strange, it said. The words you say tell me you are scared of the berries, but your actions seem to suggest otherwise.

"You're as old as the land and you've never heard of sarcasm?" Conor asked.

Oh, I have heard of it, the monster said, putting its huge branch hands on its hips. But people usually know better than to speak it to me.

(pg 52) This was a kingdom.

("What?" Conor said, looking around his backyard. "Here?"

(The monster cocked its head at him curiously. You have not heard of it?)

("Not a kingdom around here, no," Conor said. "We don't even have a McDonald's.")

(pg 53) ("This is all sounding pretty fairy tale-ish," Conor said, suspiciously.)

(You would not say that if you heard the screams of a man killed by a spear, said the monster. Or his cries of terror as he was torn to pieces by wolves. Now be quiet.)

(pg 57) (Conor glanced again at the monster's massive arms and legs, at its raggedy, toothy mouth, at its overwhelming monstrousness. He imagined what the queen must have thought when she saw it coming.)

(He smiled.)

(pg 62) The justifications of men who kill should always be heard with skepticism, said the monster. And so the injustice that I saw, the reason that I came walking, was for the queen, not the price.

(...) You think I tell you stories to teach you lessons? the monster said. You think I have come walking out of time and earth itself to teach you a lesson in niceness?

(pg 64) There is not always a good guy. Nor is there always a bad one. Most people are somewhere in between.

Conor shook his head. "That's a terrible story. And a cheat."

It is a true story, the monster said. Many things that are true feel like a cheat. Kingdoms get the princes they deserve, farmers' daughters die for no reason, and sometimes witches merit saving. Quite often, actually. You'd be surprised.

(pg 70) "O'Malley and I have an understanding," Harry said. "I'm the only one who touches him. Isn't that right?"

(pg 72) "Because I'm not blind to how Harry works, you know," she said. "A bully with charisma and top marks is still a bully." She sighed, annoyed. "He'll probably end up Prime Minister one day. God help us all."

(pg 78) "Keep an eye on it for me while I'm away, will you?" she said. "Make sure it's still here when I get back?"

And Conor knew this was her way of telling him she was coming back, so all he did was nod, and they both kept looking out at the tree.

(pg 83) The walls were bare white except for three different prints of sailing ships, which was probably as far as his grandma's thinking went toward what boys might like.

(pg 84) The entire clock, my grandmother has one like that that stopped working. Such a staple.

(pg 96 and 97) Of the illustration..... JIM KAY!

(pg 103) But the name was well-earned, because apothecaries were ancient, dealing in the old ways of medicine, too. Of herbs and barks, of concoctions brewed from berries and leaves.

("Dad's new wife does that," Conor said as they watched the man dig up a root. "She owns a shop that sells crystals.")

(The monster frowned. It is not remotely the same.)

(pg 109) He was greedy and rude and bitter, but he was still a healer. The parson, though, what was he? He was nothing. Belief is half of all healing. Belief in the cure, belief in the future that awaits. And here was a man who lived on belief, but who sacrificed it at the first challenge, right when he needed it most. He believed selfishly and fearfully. And it took the lives of his daughters.

Conor grew angrier. "You said this was a story without tricks."

I said this was the story of a man punished for his selfishness. And so it is.

(pg 124) The general running theme of how Conor wants to be punished, but his father just says there's no point.

(pg 130) The fact that the drug Conor's mum is made from yew trees. That's it.

(pg 133) There was a small park across from the hospital with paths among the trees. As Conor and his father walked through it toward an empty bench, they kept passing patients in hospital gowns, walking with their families or out on their own sneaking cigarettes. It made the park feel like an outdoor hospital room. Or a place where ghosts went to have a break.

(pg 157) AGAIN the headmistress saying there's no purpose to punish him.

(pg 162) I'm sorry for telling everyone about your mum, read the first line.

I miss being your friend, read the second.

Are you okay? read the third.

I see you, read the fourth, with the I underlined about a hundred times.

(pg 167) d'you want this entire page? have this entire page.

"You lied," he said again.

"I think, deep in your heart, you've always known," his mother said. "Haven't you?"

Conor didn't answer her.

"It's okay that you're angry, sweetheart," she said. "It really, really is." She gave a little laugh. "I'm pretty angry, too, to tell you the truth. But I want you to know this, Conor, it's important that you listen to me. Are you listening?"

She reached out for him again. After a second, he let her take his hand, but her grip was so weak, so weak.

"You be as angry as you need to be," she said. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Not your grandma, not your dad, no one. And if you need to break things, then by God, you break them good and hard."

He couldn't look at her. He just couldn't.

"And if, one day," she said, really crying now, "you look back and you feel bad for being so angry, if you feel bad for being so angry at me that you couldn't even speak to me, then you have to know, Conor, you have to know that it was okay. It was okay. That I knew. I know, okay? I know everything you need to tell me without you having to say it out loud. All right?"

He still couldn't look at her. He couldn't raise his head, it felt so heavy. He was bent in two, like he was being torn right through his middle.

But he nodded.

(pg 179) The real monster, the one he was properly afraid of, the one he'd expected to see when the yew tree first showed up, the real, nightmare monster, formed of cloud and ash and dark flames, but with real muscle, real strength, real red eyes that glared back at him and flashing teeth that would eat his mother alive. I've seen worse, Conor had told the yew tree that first night.

(pg 187) Conor shook his head again, his mouth clamped shut tight, but he could feel a burning in his chest, like a fire someone had lit there, a miniature sun, blazing away and burning him from the inside.

"It'll kill me if I do," he gasped.

It will kill you if you do not, the monster said. You must say it.

"I can't."

You let her go. Why?

The blackness was wrapping itself around Conor's eyes now, plugging his noise and overwhelming his mouth.

(pg 191) You were merely wishing for the end of pain, the monster said. Your own pain. An end to how it isolated you. It is the most human wish. (...) The answer is that it does not matter what you think, the monster said, because your mind will contradict itself a hundred times each day. You wanted her to go at the same time you were desperate for me to save her. Your mind will believe comforting lies while also knowing the painful truths that make those lies necessary. And your mind will punish you for believing both.

(pg 199) "You know, Conor?" she said. "You and me? Not the most natural fit, are we?"

"No," Conor said. "I guess not."

"I guess not either." She tore around a corner so fast, Conor had to grab on to the door handle to stay upright.

"But we're going to have to learn, you know," she said.

Conor swallowed. "I know."

His grandma made a little sobbing noise. "You do know, don't you?" she said. "Of course you do."

(pg 204) And it was for this that the monster came. It must have been. Conor had needed it, and his need had somehow called it. And it had come walking. Just for this moment.

"You'll stay?" Conor whispered to the monster, barely able to speak. "You'll stay until..."

I will stay, the monster said, its hands still on Conor's shoulders. Now all you have to do is speak the truth.

And so Conor did.

He took in a breath.

And, at least, he spoke the final and total truth.

(crying!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

#a monster calls #a monster calls patrick ness #patrick ness #blue reads

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thegirlwhowritesawksh-t · 4 years ago

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point of no return (georgenotfound x f!reader)

author: me! @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t

word count: 3.6k +

warnings: maybe a bit of angst, hella fluff? if there’s any you think you see, let me know!

A/N: first off: hi guys! this is my first fic ever (i’m a noob lmao), so please be gentle! i am in the process of writing some more about whoever I feel like simping for next... probably still George, mi amor *kisses* and second: to whoever’s reading this: stay hydrated, smile and laugh! let me know what y’all think! *sending besitos to y’all :))

Sometimes it was hard to find the words to say I like you, much less, “I love you”. For (y/n), it was easy to say it to anyone. Friends, family, ex boyfriends. Everyone. Everyone but him. Pacing across her room in the flat she shared with George, all she could feel were her nerves on edge. Down the hall, in his own room engaging in a do not laugh match with Dream in Minecraft, George sits oblivious to the predicament (y/n) has currently placed herself in.

Her phone chimes with an incoming text from the man invading her thoughts -

GogyBogy: just about to finish up with Dream. movie night? your choice?

She can’t help but let out a soft scoff, but smiled and typed a yes back, slowly getting ready to head downstairs to make the popcorn and pull out the assortment of films to decide to watch.

It’s not like she knew that she was attracted to him the whole time. It had only been recently, when George decided to attempt a cooking stream, and all she could do was focus on how he had spent time looking for the best outfit for the stream.

“I have to look like I know what I’m doing, you know, I’m Chef George!”, letting out a giggle as he perfects his outfit. Maybe it was how he looked in his outfit, or maybe it was how his hair looked soft to run her hands through. One thing she knew for sure: like a shit ton of bricks, she was over the moon for him, and she just realized that now.

Since her earth-shattering realization, (y/n) has tried her best to remain cool and collected around George. There have been a few mishaps, though. One incident in mind merely happening just this morning. >>>

Cooking eggs in a skillet, (y/n) hums lyrics to a popular song, eyes closing every so often fighting to stay awake. Finding plates for two, she starts to flip the eggs, humming louder each passing minute, only loud enough to fill the empty room. Lost in the focus to flipping the eggs, she fails to notice George trudging in, pulling another late night editing videos for his YouTube channels.

“Isn’t it a bit early to be singing?” George mumbles, as she pauses mid-song. “How else am I to wake? It’s either I hum, or I blast some album full blast on Spotify. Want to listen to One Direction then? They have the Best Song Ever” (y/n) chuckles.

“Touché”. He remarks, (y/n) laughs and deciding that the eggs are fully cooked, she plates them, and adds garnish, consisting of pepper and a pinch of salt.

“Do you want tea?” (y/n) asks, as George responds with a yes.

“Can you get the mugs then? I’ll start heating water in the kettle” she asks as she starts looking for the kettle.

“Mugs are already on the table, and I’ve just grabbed the kettle. Let me do it, you’ve made breakfast this morning.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m right here already- “ (y/n) says as George quickly moves to the sink, filling up the kettle with water. “Don’t worry! I am an expert on making tea, (y/n)” George states, with a scoff rolling off of (y/n)’s lips.

“Right, and I’ll be the next Queen of England” she snorts, finally pleased with her creation. Turning around to put the finished masterpiece on the table, she jumps back realizing that George is right in front of her.

“What the heck!?” she asks as she’s still balancing the two plates on her hands. George only stifles a small smile.

“I told you, I’ll make the tea”, he replies. (y/n) opens her mouth to object with something snarky when all thoughts have gone out the window.

George, in the midst of heating the kettle, leans forward unconsciously holding onto (y/n)’s waist, as he reaches behind her to place the kettle on the burner next to the previously used skillet. Not only does she feel him grasping her waist, it then emphasizes that she’s trapped between the stove and George. So much for avoiding feelings, (y/n) thought.

He returns to his previous position, not yet letting go of (y/n)’s waist. Whether it be on purpose or on accident, (y/n) couldn’t tell for the life of her, she was focused on not dropping the plates of eggs. (y/n) then quirks an eyebrow, as if questioning why he’s still in front of her, holding her waist. George can only look back at her in confusion, eyebrows furrowing.

“I didn’t think you were clumsy to the point you decided to hold onto me”, (y/n) mutters as George’s eyes widen, hand dropping to his side as quick as he placed his hand on (y/n)’s waist. Just as quick as he dropped his hand, (y/n) felt immediate loss on what seems to be like her burning waist.

(y/n) can’t help but look down at the plates of eggs, no doubt that they started to cool off before she glances at his hand. The hand that held her, of course. Cheeks blushing, she attempts to side step at the same time as he does. He laughs and tries to side step in the opposite direction, yet she can’t help but make the same mistake again. Hearing George giggle at the latest mishap, (y/n) tears her eyes away from his hand the eggs to look up at him.

Her breath once again hitches at the close proximity between the two. She can’t help but glance at his hair, smiling at how messy his waves look. Looking lower, she stares at his eyes, his eyes staring back with humor, probably to their blunders only moments ago. With eyes slowly decreasing of crinkles, he takes a small breath, just pausing as he looks at (y/n) with renewed curiosity. (y/n) slowly starts to glance even lower, settling at just his lips. She sees words coming out of his mouth, yet she’s zoned into the idea if her lips would mesh well with his. Maybe it’s her imagination, but George seems to pause and reciprocate the idea of looking at (y/n)’s lips, licking his bottom lip slightly to ease the dryness that seemed to fill the air.

Minds contemplating, (y/n) decides to inch her face closer to George, with George seeming to think the same. - Just a few more milli-

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH! The tea kettle whistles and George immediately jumps back, at a loss for words. Embarrassed at his sudden action, (y/n) hangs her head down, and mumbles out,

“I- I uh think I’ll have the tea later. Enjoy your breakfast. Wait, lun-, oh whatever”, (y/n) rushes out as she speed-walks to her room, with both cold plates of eggs, sweaty hands, and a confused George still holding onto the tea kettle, seemingly at odds with what just happened.

>>>

Maybe I’m just going crazy, (y/n) thought as she starts to heat up the popcorn. Quarantine is still in effect, and it has been a while since she’s seen other people. She’s only seen George and George only. Not that she minds, of course. With a sigh, she turns to the microwave, running her thoughts back to this morning, lost in her thoughts. Were we about to...?

“(y/n)!” George whispers. She whips her head around to see George standing in the doorway leading to the living room, a faint glow of yellow behind him. “Yes?” (y/n) asks as she takes the popcorn out of the microwave, cursing as she burns her hand on the paper bag.

“Isn’t it your choice tonight to decide on a movie?” He ponders, walking towards (y/n), her taking an instinctive step back. George raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question the sudden movement.

“I think so. How do you feel about Harry Potter?”

“Oh, come on! We watched Deathly Hallows Pt. 2 when you chose last time!” George groans as (y/n) moves past him into the living room, dead set on the film.

“So, we can start over again! Sorcerer’s Stone it is!”

“I don’t see how this- “ “George, please?”

Taking a moment to glance at (y/n), DVD in one hand, the other wrapped around her waist, George mutters a yes as she begins to put in the film.

“If we watch this, you’re playing Minecraft next time on stream”, he grumbles, grabbing a blanket to wrap around his body before settling onto the three-seater couch.

“I mean I suppose so…” (y/n) chuckles, grabbing another blanket and settles onto the couch. Only as she sat down did she realize she’s sitting in the middle of the couch, George sitting to the right of her.

“Didn’t we decide that you would sit on the left end of the couch and I would be at the other end, since you kick, and I tend to shuffle around a lot?” George smirks.

“I- “ (y/n) pauses. It’s true, she thought. She assumes she was happy choosing the film, that she decided to plop down beside him. Or so she thought. After taking a minute, she sighs and replies,

“Would you like me to mo- “ “No! It’s fine! Just unusual is all.” George says quietly.

“I can move if you want me to. I don’t have cooties, but I can move if you’d like.” (y/n) mumbles. Her heart slowly starts to beat faster with each passing second as silence begins to fill the room, the only light being the t.v. radiating in the background. Don’t make me move, George, (y/n) prays inside her thoughts.

After about a minute, George shakes his head.

“It’s fine. Sit!” He chuckles, before settling deeper into his spot. (y/n) breathes out a sigh of relief, thanking the heavens for him not noticing how much she’s blushing.

I’m fine, it’s just George, (y/n) repeats inside her head, no doubt failing. The movie begins to play, and (y/n) feels all of her worries fade away, smiling at watching her favorite childhood movie again. Relaxing deeper into the couch, her mind wanders back to the earlier memory of this morning again. Mind going numb with endless ideas, she failed to notice George’s arm tucked behind her head absentmindedly pulling her strands of her hair. He moves his hand slowly down to rest on her left shoulder, rubbing endless amounts of shapes, searing the imprint of warmth. Chest tight, she realizes the state she’s in with George, feeling the pressure raise higher as his hand remains there. (y/n) starts to sit frigidly, as if one wrong movement could set off dominoes. In this case, another awkward situation with the man she’s found herself lost for.

Where are we even in the movie? Really? Harry going to the zoo? Holy- (y/n)’s thoughts pause as George softly grips her shoulder - with her tensing up even more - before removing his hand to rest at his side, and (y/n) blushing at the sudden loss of contact. Cursing at her awkward being, she starts to readjust, hoping that George wouldn’t notice how wound up she is all from him. All from a shoulder touch, and she’s fully convinced she won’t ever recover from the man that is shy, sweet, confusing George. Still readjusting herself on the couch, she manages to cross her legs under her, holding onto George’s left thigh. Eyes wide, feeling George tense up, she manages to turn her head a bit to the side, to see George’s gaze on his thigh. (y/n) retracts her hand away.

“Sorry, you know how long these movies are…”, she mutters, cheeks flushing at the close contact. George can only cough and nod as he tries to focus back into the movie. I don’t know how much longer I can take this, (y/n) repeats into her head, trying to zone back into the movie.

>>>

How (y/n) was able to watch half of the movie without dying of embarrassment, she did not know. But she was thankful to appear normal in front of him, or so she would hope. Rigid with each movement, she felt scared making a move with the worry that she’d cause an uncomfortable situation. Yet, her head thought otherwise. I think I’d do just about anything for his warmth on me again, even if it’s just his hand on my shoulders, (y/n) thought.

The Golden Trio met Fluffy for the first time, and all (y/n) could think about (besides the man next to her) was going to Hogwarts, wishing it was real. The spells, the robes, Quidditch, everything about the universe has always called out to (y/n), and all she could do was endlessly hope it could potentially be a reality, even if she did look foolish for believing in that. George managed to discreetly glance to the side and see her dazed eyes zeroed onto the screen, and mouth moving to quote each line. All he could do was stare in awe, of her knowledge of this magical world, her persistence to memorizing each spell, and how there seemed to be a basking glow upon her figure. She looked like heaven, the epitome of warmth. What (y/n) couldn’t see was that he too, was enamored with her as she was with him.

George had an idea to test the waters. If she responded, he would continue. If she didn’t, he’d forget all about it and attempt to move on from the woman he was sure was the one. (y/n) saw from the corner of her eyes that George readjusted himself that while he was sitting casually beside her, he lowered his hand to rest on his thigh. Heart still stuttering, she lowers her eyes realizing that her thigh is directly next to his, mere millimeters from touching.

Rigid, she sits straight up, unintentionally knocking her thighs into George. She stares at their thighs, chuckles a bit and struggles to watch the movie again, knowing her thigh is definitely touching his thigh. With arms crossed against her waist, she can’t help but watch his hand in the mere hopes that it would ‘accidentally’ brush her thigh.

As she keeps her eye contact on his hand, George begins to tap his pinky finger on his thigh. He taps, wiggles, slides his pinky with his hand still resting on his thigh. While still resting his hand, he slowly starts to move his hand to the left, making it that his hand sat on part of his thigh, and the other part was on top of (y/n)’s thigh, starting to shyly tap his pinky on her thigh. Letting out a gasp, (y/n) could only freeze at his hand - no his pinky - tapping her thigh, and it’s already turning her into a nervous mess. What the hell is he doing to me?, (y/n) asks to herself.

If you go down this route, it’s past the point of no return…

But it’s worth it…

How can you even be sure if he feels the same?

(y/n) can’t help but engage in a battle with her thoughts before finally coming to a decision.

Yes.

With bated breath, she slowly moves her hands to rest on top of her thigh, the hand closest to George shaking slightly. With a bit more confidence, she begins to move her right pinky on her thigh, moving in contradicting patterns, just barely touching George’s thigh. Soon enough, their pinkies start to move in sync, and (y/n) can’t help but bask in his warmth, even if it’s just his pinky. So used to his pinky against hers, (y/n) eventually hooks her pinky against his, effectively stopping their movements.

George lets out a huff of air, and (y/n) freezes, overthinking that she went too far. A full two minutes pass, only hearing Harry Potter finding the Mirror of Erised, and silence from George himself. Getting ready to back off, she releases a breath and begins to retract her hand from George.

“Okay, I’ll just- “

George shuts her up with his hand on top of hers, effectively placing his hand of top of their thighs. He then releases a shuddering breath, only to be met with complete silence. (y/n) looks at their thighs, then their hands, then George, back to the movie, to him again. She starts to find the words, only to come out with nothing. What can come out of her mouth besides, your heart is all I need.

Taking a minute to regain her composure, she lowers her guard, opening her hand so slightly that his fingers fill in the spots in-between hers. With a soft smile, he slowly grips her fingers, starting to rub her thumb with his.

“I don’t think you understand how long I’ve wanted to hold your hand,” George mutters quietly, as if he were to speak any louder, he’d shatter the moment, whatever this moment is.

“And you think I haven’t?” (y/n) asks.

“I didn’t say that,” George pauses. “How would I know? There weren’t any signals, no signs or hints, (y/n).”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed, George. I’m always scared of messing up around you now. I can’t breathe, knowing that we breathe the same air. And how do you think I feel about us living under the same roof? I have to stop myself from tearing my hair out and- and stomping over to your room and just… confess. I’ve become desperate for your touch, yet I’m scared that if we pass that boundary, you wouldn’t feel the same! I mean, look at this morning, y- you- we almost kissed and you didn’t say anything! I assumed you just thought it was nothing, and we’d work past it. How is it not obvious that I’m in love with you!?” (y/n) blurts out, ripping her hand away from his, only for him to grip her hand again. Despite the nerves in her veins, she can’t help but relish in his hand still holding hers.

“Can you tell that my hands are shaking? Because they are, (y/n). Is it obvious that I don’t know what to do in situations like this? All I know is that just one look at you, I fall apart. I-I-I can’t begin to count all the times I’ve wanted to hold your hand. And that’s just holding your hand. Kissing you, calling you my Love, Darling, my Everything? I don’t know what else to say except that I fall apart from you. Everything you do makes me scared and I have no idea what to do, because I am just now realizing how much I adore you.” George confesses. (y/n) can only stare back with adoration, yet confusion swirling in her thoughts.

“You know, I can tell everyone how I feel. I love my mom, I love my sister, I love pets, I love One Direction, for gods’ sake! Yet if I say that to you… why is it that I feel like I would break apart? Saying those three words to you just confirms that I am so hopelessly in love with you, and anxious to tell you to be mine. Screw it, I want you to be mine, I’ve been yours. I am yours. I want everything and anything with you, and all I need is a yes. A yes from you is it for me.” (y/n) replies.

“I’m not good with my feelings, expressing them, especially with this. There’s no turning back.”

“Stop giving excuses.” She scoffs.

“I’m not. I’m giving you a way out. In the case that one day, you might not think that I am enough for you.”

“Who said you weren’t? You’re everything to me.” (y/n) says, and George whips his head up to face her. She continues on,

“I’m ready to be yours. Hell, I am yours. I-I can’t even begin to say how much I- “ “Love you. I love you, (y/n).” George blurts out, hands still grasping hers. Gasping, she takes a deep breath, finally ready to succumb to her desires.

“I love you, George.” (y/n) admits. George closes his eyes and softly smiles, before opening his eyes and looking back at (y/n). Now when he’s looking at her, does (y/n) realize how reciprocated her love for him was. Raising their conjoined hands to her face level, she places a kiss to his hands, with George releasing a heavy breath at the intimate action. With a smile, she lets go of his hands, George whining at the loss of contact of her hands.

“I think you’ll like this more.” (y/n) laughs. Slowly, she brings up her hands to cup his face, George immediately melting into her touch. With his head leaning towards one hand, he raises his hands to rub hers once more.

“You really like my hands, huh?” (y/n) remarks.

“They’re officially mine to hold. So, a short answer would be yes.” George smirks as (y/n) hums in content, feeling his stubble tickle the inside of her hands.

Grasping his face, (y/n) slowly tears her gaze away from his eyes to focus onto his lips, and for the first time, there’s a clear sign that he’s feeling the same. They both look at each other one last time, fully taken with one another, the space between them reducing by millimeters.

This is-

Finally capturing her lips, George shivers as (y/n) gasps into their kiss. Maybe he’s the heaven I’ve imagined. Perfection, (y/n) thought. After what seems to be minutes of giving into their desires, they pull back, chests heaving. George’s lips swollen, (y/n) can’t help but steal another kiss, earning a chuckle from George.

“I love you. You’re it for me. I- I love you” (y/n) repeats. George smiles for what seems to be the millionth time that day and says,

“I love you, (y/n). I- I am yours, and you’re mine.” George gushes. Going in for the third, but not final time, they embrace and kiss sweet nothings into their lips, each as a promise to love each other with no holding back.

#georgenotfound #gnf #georgenotfound x reader #gnf x reader #georgenotfound x y/n #gnf x y/n #georgenotfound x oc #gnf x oc #georgenotfound x you #gnf x you #myct george #myct x reader #myct #george myct #gnf myct #georgenotfound myct

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dameronology · 4 years ago

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knowing me, knowing you {steve rogers}

summary: breaking up is never easy - but it's the best thing you can do (yes, it's based on the song by abba and no, i have no regrets)

warnings: mentions of drinking, swearing

i don't even know what possessed me to write this but? i've been neck deep in angst rn and sometimes, it's nice to explore a healthy break up bc shit happens. enjoy!!

- jazz xx

In the middle of Brooklyn, about twenty minutes away from the Bridge, there was an unassuming townhouse. It stood between several other identical brownstones, with a messy garden and unkempt tangles of bushes - you nor Steve never had the time to tend to do it, with your jobs and your lives pulling you in a thousand different directions. The inside, though? That was what had mattered. It was filled with years of memories - photos of you on the fridge, ticket stubs from your trips to the movies, clutter from so many Christmases and birthdays - that were all contained between the four walls. Home had been important to Steve, given how often he'd moved around. And it couldn't have been that home without you.

Now you were stood at the foot of the front garden, a pile of collapsed boxes resting in your arms. The last time you'd been here was when you and Steve had tried to talk it out -- it had ended with the door slamming behind you. The conversation had ended badly, but your relationship had ended even worse. And even though you had both tried to hard to blame one another, finding fault had been hard. You'd just...fallen out of love. It wasn't something either of you could help, nor was it something you could force. Your frustration and anger, and the shouting and fights, had never been at Steve, but rather the situation. He had always said that finding you, and simultaneously loving you, had come out of nowhere; it was something he had never sought out. You were just there one day, and it changed everything.

Sighing to yourself, you headed up the path and towards the front door. You'd been dreading this day for months -- moving out years worth of stuff, and trying through bleary eyes not to look at the photos on the wall or the millions of little reminders that your relationship had left behind in its wake. There was a dent in the hallway, from your first Thanksgiving in the house when Steve had gotten a little too drunk, and the massive crack in the kitchen floor from where you'd managed to drop the kettle. It was littered with memories and callbacks and evocations. The house was haunted with the ghosts of what was, and what could have been.

You could at least take comfort in the fact that you'd tried - several times, actually. There had been couples counselling and forced, romantic getaways in a last-ditch attempt to trigger something, anything, to get back your dying spark. It made it better and worst - better, because you knew that you'd done everything in your power to salvage things, but worst, because it had all been a waste. A sign that your relationship had gotten so bad that it had crossed the point of no return.

Sometimes, breaking up was the best thing to do. It hurt now, but it hurt much less in the long term compared to what could have been if you'd stayed together.

Placing the boxes by the door, you shut it behind you and quietly crept inside. There had been no communication with Steve other than a few horribly formal emails - after all, you did still work together - detailing your plans to sort the house out. It had been sitting derelict for months, your former home collecting dust. He'd sought refuge at Bucky's loft across the River, whilst you'd been hiding out in Natasha's spare room.

It felt odd being back; nostalgic and painful all at once. So much had happened in these four walls - good and bad, memorable and mundane - and you were feeling it all at once. It was seeping in through the cracks of your mind, the same way the tension had slipped through the cracks in the old walls and questionable foundations. It didn't matter that the place had been falling apart, because it had been so loved.

"I...I didn't realise you were coming today."

You froze at the sound of Steve's voice. He was stood in the kitchen, navy bomber jacket slung over one shoulder and a box of his belongings in his free hand. Hadn't you said that you coming today? Tomorrow was meant to be his moving day.

"Yeah," you swallowed. "I said in the email."

"Sorry, I must have misread it." He sheepishly admitted. "I was just gonna get my stuff and go."

"Me too," you nodded. "Figured it might take a while though."

"You do own a lot of crap," Steve gently smiled. "I just put the kettle on. Do you want a coffee?"

"Uh," your eyes fell to the floor, "I should probably just-"

"- it's just a coffee." Steve cut you off.

"Yeah, okay then."

You awkwardly took a seat at the breakfast bar beside him. God, was this really what it had come to? This time last year, you would have just been waking up and strolling into the kitchen, greeting your super soldier with a kiss as he prepared breakfast. You had a routine - you had a life. But that was exactly it, wasn't it? Life. You and Steve of all people knew how fucking unexpected things could be; how many curveballs and challenges could be thrown your way. In an odd way, your break-up had been even less expected than Ultron and Loki and HYDRA.

"It'll have to be black coffee," Steve said. "We only have coffee out the jar. No-one's been here for months."

"I know," you nodded. "I did used to live here, remember?"

"I think I'm having a hard time not remembering, to be honest," He said. "Being here is harder than I thought it would be."

"Yeah, I get that." You took the mug out his hands, giving him a small nod. "All this feels a lot scarier than aliens and robots."

"Ah, well," Steve tried to brush it off. "I never noticed how badly we beat up the place."

"Do you mean the dent in the hallway, or the crack in the floor?" You found yourself smiling.

"I meant the hair dye stains in the bathroom and the smashed window in the basement," he shot back.

"That was both of us. You wanted to play football inside, remember?"

"Only because you had got me drunk," he countered. "I don't think we'll get our deposit back."

"Y'think?" You quirked an eyebrow.

An odd silence fell over you. It was the first time in months that you were talking - and now that the pressure of being in a relationship was suddenly off your shoulders, some of the tension had faded away. When you took a step back and brushed aside the ashes of what had once been, there was still...something. Not love, and not a relationship, but the same common ground and interests that had brought you together in the first place. It was worth holding onto.

"Do you remember that time that your parents came to visit and you forgot to tell me?" Steve recalled with a soft smile, "and your dad just strolled in on me in the shower."

"It's not any worst than the time you gave Bucky a spare key and he broke in in the middle of the night to get milk for his fucking coffee," you chuckled.

"It was a good few years."

"It was," your eyes fell down to the dark bubbles of the coffee in front of you. "Pride and all that aside, I'm sorry it ended how it did."

"Hey, it's okay," Steve gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze, "it's no-one's fault. These things happen."

"I know," you said, "I just...we had a good thing going, didn't we?"

"We did, but we also did everything we could to try and fix things." He replied.

"And we couldn't," you recalled. "I know that breaking up was the easy thing-"

"- it wasn't," Steve cut you off. "But it was the right thing, wasn't it? Because we made each other miserable."

"As partners, yeah," you nodded, "but what about friends?"

Your eyes met again, and he smiled. "Yeah. I think we can manage that."

Admitting defeat was hard, but if it was what you needed to do in order to stay in each other's lives? It was the best you could do.

tags: @agent-catfish-kenobi

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hangekitty · 4 years ago

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Tea for 3

Erwin x Levi x gn!Reader Headcanons

Scenario: the three of you decide to open up a tea shop together

Warnings: none!

Genre: fluff! Polyamory

Universe: Modern AU!

A/N: it’s a little short, but it’s definitely sweet. These headcanons have been on my mind a LOT and I just had to write them down. I feel like I mostly write polyamory stuff (even my private work is like 70% polyamory) but I am working on monogamous relationship stories as we speak! Should I keep writing polyamory? 🤔

First of all, it was Levi’s idea to open up a tea shop, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He had first brought it up out of curiosity to see what you or Erwin thought. It wasn’t brought up again till Erwin found a little shop that was up for sale, to which Levi pretended not to be excited; in truth, if Levi was better at expressing himself he would have been jumping up and down with pure happiness.

Levi will probably need some convincing to actually go for this opportunity. I can see him being a little insecure as to whether he deserves such a chance at this; so hearing the two of you, the people he loves most, give him so much affection and encouragement he couldn’t refuse.

You three spend long nights together designing the interior and exterior of the tea shop; going for a sleek botanical look with a hint of rustic charm.

You were the creative of the three, designing the logo and even the menu; Erwin would be like 😧 being super impressed with your talents. He is very good with his hands in the DIY department, but can barely draw a stick figure!

You decide to call the tea shop Ackerman & Co. (as much as Levi tried to argue against it, it is of course his dream and thought it would be a lovely gesture of yours and Erwin’s love towards him). Needless to say, Levi loved your reasoning and eventually accepted it.

The three of you visiting the store before buying it, Erwin ever so vigilant with his questions. From “Is there a persistent mould problem” to “are the neighbours noisy?”

Luckily it seems things are perfect, the store is located just off the high streets but close enough to attract some wandering customers. A little detail I would like to add is that the store is close to a cathedral and one of Levi’s favourite things to do (especially at night) is to open a window and listen out to the bell chimes.

“Is it big enough for your bed?” The answer to that is yes! As you insisted that the three of you share a King size bed (although Levi doesn’t sleep that often as it is, he still enjoys the company) you worry that the living space may not be enough. Don’t worry, Erwin sized out the place; he measured the entire flat above the shop out with only a measuring tape.

You ask Miche, Hange and Moblit for help when it comes to building up the tea shop! From painting to decorating, Hange goes a little overboard with the plants, but it only adds to the charm. “Who the hell is going to water all of these?” Levi groaned, “don’t worry love, I will” you reassure him, he will of course make you keep a diary so you can keep an eye out and record watering times!

Erwin insists on adding a bookshelf into the shop; this means that customers can read whilst they are there, even setting up a weekly book club! You also suggest keeping a spot out for a book exchange, keeping an on-going flow of new content for the regular customers.

Before you officially open the shop, Kutchel (Levi’s mum) visits with a gift; it is a large kettle decorated with a giant green bow to ‘baptise’ the place (also came with a bouquet of flowers because she is a sweetheart). “I am so proud of you baby”

Levi won’t cry, but he’ll cry

Let me just say, Kutchel adores the two of you and is so proud and glad that Levi has people in his life who adore him as much as his mother does (although initially explaining polyamory to her was a challenge, she just didn’t understand at first! But she supports and loves you once she grasped the concept!)

The first day of opening was BUSY. Little did you three know, but Hange had invited EVERYONE they knew and even going up to people in the streets to come to the opening.

The most confident was Erwin, he was the main spokesperson in announcing your new place. Levi barely spoke, mostly to contain himself from just crying out of happiness. So to keep his strength, he will hold onto your hand all night, giving it tender squeezes if he started to feel overwhelmed.

Levi would be the manager, mainly working on the teas and coffee orders, Erwin is most definitely the baker, making muffins and cookies and all sorts! You were the waiter/waitress but you also had your hand in baking and/or tea making when it was needed!

You put up a message board in the main room so that customers and/or friends and family can leave post-it-notes on the board. Most of the notes you get are compliments of the establishment, but you will get the occasional “I love Erwin/Levi/Y/N” notes from your loved ones; those notes you keep up forever. - if ever you get any missing cat posters, Levi will make it his mission to look for said cat.

Levi insists on getting WIFI, but Erwin annoyingly will point out the large bookcase, stating that books are enough. He does eventually give in, but will purposefully set the password annoyingly long and complicated for the sake of being petty. The password would look something like L1v1nYNrmYl0vr$

You notice that Levi spends more time in bed with you three! He has definitely settled down a lot more, feeling so much joy that his dream came to light. You and Erwin of course enjoy the extra person to cuddle in bed.

Frequent visits from your friends, Hange will bring their laptop into the cafe to finish their thesis or other scientific reports; they would quite literally spend all day there and will sleep on the sofa if they could get away with it. - you do at least have a spare bedroom so if Hange stays too late, they have a place to sleep.

Levi putting out cat food for the local strays, a cute little quirk you only started noticing when a dozen cats were lined up outside the back entrance of the store.

The tea shop will of course be successful, so Levi decides to experiment and start his own line of teas. Starting off with the basic breakfast and earl greys and then into the fruity and herbal teas. Once he got his customers approval and satisfaction, he then sells the tea bags (and loose tea leaves) to customers to take home. He calls his tea ‘Teas of Freedom’ (like wings of freedom lmao) which become very popular.

GLASS TEAPOTS; you get to see the water change into beautiful colours once the teas infuse. The most popular being the jasmine tea where the flower blooms when the hot water is applied; Erwin’s face lights up EVERY TIME Levi prepares this kind of tea.

Can you imagine Levi’s face when someone comes in and asks for a Starbuck’s like order, he would be like “HUH???” But don’t worry, you step in and take the order effortlessly; Levi is a tea man, coffee is somewhat a foreign concept to him.

On quiet days, Erwin will come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, whispering sweet nothing into your ear and rocks you side to side. This man is so in love with you. He does this to Levi but not as often...mostly because even on not so busy days Levi is busy.

Imagine catching quick little kisses whilst its busy, hugging is one thing but a quick kiss on the cheek is honestly so cute; Levi would 100% get distracted and a lot more clumsy if you plant a forehead kiss on him whilst he’s preparing tea.

EEEEP I hope you enjoyed it!! I love EURI as it is, but being a x reader it meant I got an excuse to write them!

#levi x erwin x reader #levi x erwin #euri #eruri #eruri x reader #erwin x levi x reader #erwin x reader #levi x reader #erwin smith #levi Ackerman #attack on titan modern au #attack on titan #levi headcanons #erwin x you #snk erwin

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wolfish-trickster · 4 years ago

Text

Old oak tree

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 2,3K+

Warning: typos, angst, itsi bitsi fluff at the end

Tag list: @gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld @forevernthensome @kozkaboi

"So, what do you think?" Loki asked spreading his arms and showing you his new outfit.

You shrugged. "Looks good to me."

"Don't you think it's too much?" he checked himself in your mirror.

"Is anything EVER too much for you?" you asked with a smirk.

"I just...I really like her and I don't want to mess up."

"You won't, trust me," you reassured him.

He hugged you tightly, to your surprise. "What would I do without such a friend like you?"

The younger prince bolted from your room faster than you could answer. You sighed and closed the doors after him so no one could hear your heart breaking, again.

You and Loki were friends. Best friends actually. But you started to to see him more than that years ago. And you hated it.

You already accepted the fact he'll see you as only his supportive friend. If only he could stop asking you to help him woo his love interests. He always asked your opinion on everything. Flowers, his outfits, gifts he wanted to give them.

Once he even asked to kiss you so he could practice. It was in general your and his first kiss ever. Your head spinned when your life long best friend and crush in one person gently placed his lips on yours, his tongue sliding to your mouth. When he pulled away he just mumbled simple 'thanks' and ran away, leaving you flustered and with a face on fire under your favourite tree. At first you often sat under that old oak, remembering the feeling and smiling to yourself. However with every new interest of Loki you started to avoid the poor tree. Hate it even. You hated how it represented how you foolishly threw away your first kiss.

You still stood by Loki. What else could you do? Confess your feelings? As if that'll help.

You started to see pattern in his interests and you never managed to tic the boxes. You were only average among everything; intelligence, looks, skills. There were hundred and one people who were exactly like you. Loki would never choose you over a noble woman or man he was used to courting.

Now, when you were finally alone, you could think about what are you going to do about your never ending crush. You layed down on your bed and stared at your white ceiling. You already tried to avoid him in hopes you will loose your feelings for him, that didn't work. You wrote down every negative thing about him, trick your mind he isn't a good boyfriend material. Didn't work either since he is the kindest person you've ever met. And the gentlest. And nicest. With the most beautiful smile and eyes. And arms that give the coziest hugs.

"Fuck," you whispered and closed your eyes. It always ended like this. No matter how much you tried, you could never see him as something less than a great person he was.

Suddenly you heard his melodic laughter under your windows. As well as some girl's. You couldn't take it anymore.

"You know what? If he can date around, so can I!" you told yourself in pure desperation to get rid of the jealousy and pain from knowing he will never love you.

First thing you did was hiding everything he gave you as a child, every little trinket you cherished in false thought he's starting to catch feelings for you. You removed all of it from your shelves and put in a big box sliding it under your bed.

There, now onto the more complicated part: the oak of your very first kiss. Your heart ached with every step you took towards it. It was already old and not so full of life like it used to be. Its bark was dry and overgrown with moss. The poor thing didn't have enough energy to grow its leaves as viscoulsy like few years ago. No one visited it anymore. It was lonely just like you.

"Looks like you're few years from death, old buddy," you patted its trunk. "Let's end your missery now."

You were on your way back to your room holding a little pot filled with soil. Nothing was growing out yet, but in few months you were expecting a small oak sappling to grow. You couldn’t say goodbye to your old wooden friend just yet.

There, deep in halls, sounds are resonating. Sounds you soon came to hate. Kissing, Loki chuckling, some woman moaning, door closing.

You sadly looked down at the pot and took the biggest diversion to your room, avoiding coming any near Loki's bedroom.

Few days later you still avoided Loki. That time was the first time he had brought anyone to his bedroom to do....that. It was good he didn't ask you to practice on you. If he did, you would've.... you don't know what would you do. Probably panic first and get angry next.

While Loki was, let's say, occupied you got closer to one soldier, Arne. He was kind, tall, ginger with freckles and very skilled fighter. He wasn't the smartest but he had a sense of humor and always tried to make you laugh. He wasn't Loki though, but it didn't matter. At least you kept yourself busy, so your heart could heal.

Right now you were in stables with Arne. He was telling you how he got his first horse when he finished his soldier training few decades back. You were braiding his mare's mane as he stood right beside you, his shoulder lightly touching yours. Everything was at peace.

"Y/N! Y/N, WHERE ARE YOU?" came Loki's voice.

Almost everything.

You turned your head towards his voice. He was rushing towards you until he stopped when he noticed Arne standing so close to you.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked a little irritated.

"Well-"

"It doesn't matter, I have to show you something," he took you by the hand and started dragging you out of the stables only for you to slip your hand from his and hugging Arne. "See you tomorrow," you waved him goodbye and walked out, Loki trailing after you.

"So, what is it you wanted to show me?"

"What the Hel was that?" he pointed at you and behind him at the stables, completely ignoring your question.

"A hug. Why?"

"Since when are you hugging random soldiers? And since when are you even hanging out with low ranking soldiers like Hofferson?"

"His first name is Arne, and I'm allowed to hug whoever I want. Same goes for hanging out. Now are you going to show me the thing or can I return to him?"

"Right," he remember, took your hand again and ran to gardens. To the familiar now empty corner. "Look what some bastard did," he pointed at the wide oak stump.

"Yeah, I know."

"You do? Oh, darling," he threw his arms around you. You fought with yourself internally to not hug him back, but being close to him after a very long time felt just too good not to give in.

"I'm so sorry. I know it was your favourite tree. I will find the culprit and-"

"You don't have to," you interrupted and pulled yourself away from him.

"I do! That tree meant a lot to me too. I was actually working on a spell to bring life into it again."

"And how exactly did it mean a lot to you? I never saw you even near that tree."

Loki stuttered. "E-ehm, we had our first kiss underneath it."

"As if that meant anything to you," you muttered.

"What?"

"I said it was old and it had to be cut down."

"Well you could've asked me before you killed it," he spat rather angrily.

"My family planted it, I get to do whatever I want with it!"

"Did it mean so little to you?"

"No. On the contrary, it meant the world to me! That's why I had to cut it down!"

"What? Why? I don't understand you," he shook his head.

"Well excuse me for wanting to destroy the biggest thing that reminded me how my best friend stole my first kiss!"

"Stole? I asked and you complied!" Loki defended himself.

You groaned. "Okay fine, you didn't steal it, I lost it. Now can I go back to Arne?"

"Lost it?! Have you got any idea how many people would murder for a kiss from a prince? And why do you want to go to Arne so desperatelly? You never talked to soldiers before, so why the change of heart?"

"I like him, he's nice and courageous and-"

"I forbid it."

"What?!" you couldn't believe your ears.

"I forbid it. You can't whore around with soldiers like him, think about your reputation!" he crossed his arms infront of him.

"Whore around? Look who's talking! You've had at least 5 lovers in the past month!"

"T-that's different."

"And how exactly is it different, Loki?"

"I-"

You waited. Nothing came out of him.

"That's what I thought."

Few days passed, you continued avoiding Loki and he started to close off from everyone. Occasionally you saw some green sparkles in a shape of a person sitting on the oak stump. You figured that must be Loki under cloaking spell. All you wanted to do was run to him and hug him, he looked so depressed and lonely. Just like you were when you saw him with all those lovers in the past.

You felt bad for him. But you doubted he felt bad for you back then. Or now. So you always walked pass him, pretending you didn't notice him.

*knock knock*

You looked up from watering your growing oak sapling. Who could it be? You weren't expecting anyone. "Who's there?"

"Guess," came a dull voice.

You put away your watering kettle and hid the pot behind courtains. "Come in, Loki."

He stepped inside wearing one of his ordinary clothes, his hair wasn't slicked back like he used to style it and he had apologetic expression on his face.

"Y/N, I came to apologize."

Loki is apologizing. Now that's new. "What for?" you asked teasingly.

He sighed. "For saying you were whoring around. It wasn't right from me," he pulled out your favourite flower from behind his back, "friends?"

You took the flower. "Okay, friends."

Loki clapped his hands excitedly. "Great, now that we're at good terms with eachother I-"

"No!" you silenced him. You knew there had to be a catch. He made up with you just so he could ask you for help. Just like always.

"You don't even know what I was about to say."

"Oh, I think I do. You want me to give you advices again. Well, guess what? That's not happening. So you can, as mortals say, do 180 and walk out that door," you pointed behind him to your bedroom door.

Loki held out his hands in surrender. "I wasn't going to ask you that! I just want to talk."

"Oh," now you felt stupid. "Okay, a little talk never killed anyone I guess."

"Thank you," he let his hands fall down and took a walk around your room. "I see you were redecorating," he noticed all of his trinkets he gave you were gone. He assumed you most likely threw them out or burned them. Just the thought of it hurt him.

"Yeah," you hugged your arms to comfort yourself. "I still have them, I just didn't want to look at them anymore."

He turned towards you. "Why? First the tree, then my little gifts. What's next, me?" he joked to ease both your and his growing anxiety.

You chuckled lightly and shook your head. "No, don't worry."

He walked to you and put his hand on your shoulders. "Then why? We're best friends, right? We can tell eachother everything."

"That's exactly what I can't do," you grabbed his hand on your shoulder and slowly removed them.

"Why? Do you... do you hate me?"

"What? Heavens no! I could never hate you!"

He sighed from relief. "Good. But then why? I can't think of a single reason you would do those things. Wait. On a second thought," he held his chin between his thumb and index finger and looked down like he always does when he was thinking. He shook his head then and chuckled to himself. "No, that's absurd. You could never be in love with me."

You involuntarily tensed up. He noticed.

"Or could you?"

Tears started burning in your eyes as you nodded. "Sorry."

"For how long?"

After few minutes of thinking you shook your head. "I don't remember when it happened. It just happened."

"Well, when did you realise then? That you...you know? Are in love with me?"

"Few days before the oak kiss, I guess."

"But that was decades ago! This long time and I never saw," he facepalmed.

"And you...?" you asked hopefully. Maybe he will tell you he loves you too, right?

He sighed. "I'm sorry Y/N. I love you, but not like that. You have always been like a little sister I always wanted."

You nodded. Of course he doesn't love you like that. How even could he? You turned away from him and let some tears escape.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," he rubbed your back. "We can still be friends. Nothing will change between us. I promise."

But it already did. Everything changed for you. How could you even look him in the eye?

You wiped away your tears and put on a perfectly rehearsed fake smile. "Okay, I can work with that," you offered him your hand, "friends?"

Instead of shaking it he hugged you. "Friends."

You hugged him back and let your fake smile fall. Your naive little self told you he will change his mind in the future. You are already so close with eachother. Closer than anyone you know. It's just a matter of time. For now, you can only dream.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki fluff #loki angst #loki x female reader #loki x reader angst #my writer's block is finally gone and I can write again!#wohooo!#loki oninson #loki laufejarson #loki

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fandomjunkie · 3 years ago

Text

The Psychopath's Crown - Pt. 1

Characters: Jim Moriarty x Holmes!OC

Warnings: None.

Chapter 1: "And you're supposed to be a Holmes."

I strode into Speedy’s, the bell dinging as I swung the door open and made my way over to the table where she was already seated. By she, I mean Eve Watson. Best friend and partner in crime. Well, not quite a partner in crime considering she’s a DI. A smile tilts my lips at the thought as I sit down next to her. She says, gesturing to the waitress bringing over two drinks but not raising her eyes from the newspaper.

“I ordered what you need,

Her lips turned up ever so slightly at the sight of me.

I smile gratefully as I accept the steaming cup of chamomile. As I sip it, I remark, “I suppose I didn’t apply my concealer well enough, did I.”

She replies, turning a page of the newspaper, “I might not be a Holmes but I have picked up a few tricks. You’re clearly stressed out to an observant eye.”

I merely shrug at her words, cupping both my hands around the cup for warmth, “I do quite a lot of work. Mycroft has it worse though.”

At the mention of my elder brother she snorts, finally laying down her newspaper.

“Please. I don’t see Mycroft with dark circles under his eyes and paler than usual skin.”

I retort, placing my cup down gently just as the waitress arrived with Eve’s order, “You don’t see Mycroft at all. With good reason, placed in a room together with no supervision you two wouldn’t last a day.”

She shrugs as well, accepting the truth of what I said.

I plunge onwards, not letting her speak, “So I had a proposition.”

She arches an eyebrow and I finish, “We could move in together.”

She says monotonously, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “I wasn’t aware that our relationship had become so serious. Whatever shall I tell Greg?”

I sigh, “I found recording devices in my home and even though I dismantled them, Mycroft refuses to let me live alone and as much as I love my brother I appreciate my freedom. If I moved in with Myc, my life would be very restricted. So, as an alternative, I’d rather live with you.”

As I finish explaining she thoughtfully stirs her matcha before she says, “Well, if that’s the case then sure. I’ll have someone help with your stuff. Just don’t take my room. There’s plenty of others.”

I instinctively lean forward to hug her, forgetting the table and letting out a small “oof” as I bump into it.

She snickers, “And you’re supposed to be a Holmes.”

I roll my eyes and stand up, “You wanted me to meet someone?”

She nods, standing up as well, “My brother, John Watson. He can be a little-”

I complete her sentence, “Overwhelmingly flirtatious?”

She nods again as we exit the cafe, “My brother flirts with every single nice girl he meets. It’s weird. But he’s living with Sherl so you’ll have to get used to seeing him more often..”

I reply as we enter 221, “Oh, I know he’s living with Sherl.”

At the look she gives me I say quickly, “Mycroft’s surveillance, don’t ask. And also, how are you two related again? He’s flirtatious and you despise PDA, even between friends.”

She replies simply, “He’s my brother.”

I refrain from rolling my eyes again and instead rap on the door to 221B, “Sherlock! Open up.”

A man with short blondish hair opened the door, looking rather confused when he saw me but he seemed to realize something as his eyes darted to Eve.

“This is who you wanted me to meet?” He asks her.

She merely says, “I got her along, didn’t I?” She pushes him out of her way and goes straight to the refrigerator.

I chuckle and step in as he stands aside. He starts speaking first, “So, Eve didn’t bother to mention your name?”

I answer with a small smile, “Emberlyn. I go by Emberlyn.”

He smiles as well, “Beautiful name, beautiful woman.”

Flirtatious, indeed. He’s barely known me for five minutes. I hold back a chuckle when I realise he probably doesn’t know I’m related to his flatmate.

As if on cue, Sherlock strides in, his pale blue robe billowing as he walks, “Where’s Eve?”

I point to the kitchen, and he seems to realize I”m here, “Oh, hello sister. John, I’d recommend not flirting with her unless you want an earful from Mycroft. You might even get maimed if you’re lucky.”

Eve adds, peeking out of the kitchen, at John’s incredulous look, “Mhm. Just try not to hook up with her.”

I finally let a laugh bubble out, “I forgot to mention, My full name is actually Charlotte Emberlyn Tara Holmes. Bit of a mouthful so I go by Emberlyn.”

John continues to gape at me for a moment and before I can register anything else there’s a blast. I’m thrown off my feet and backwards almost headfirst into the fireplace. I feel a ringing in my ears as I stand up and stumble towards the kitchen, “Eve? Sherlock? Are you alright?”

Worry seeps through my voice despite myself and I see that Eve is just now getting up with a wince. Sherlock has already dusted himself off and extended an arm to help her up. She stands up with a small groan and I see red contusions on her elbows.

I murmur slightly, my ears still ringing, “That is going to bruise.”

She retorted, though her voice was still weak, “You’re one to talk with the way you’re clinging to that counter.”

I grimace and ask Sherlock, “You’re alright, yes?”

He nods swiftly, still analyzing our injuries. Confusion passes over Eve’s face as he bustles over to put the kettle on.

He explains, “Mycroft will be here soon. I’ll give it ten minutes with the commute. If it was just us it would’ve been an hour or so. Emberlyn is involved thus expediting the travel time.”

I scowl but gratefully accept the muffins he passes to Eve and I. By the time we finish the whistle of the kettle sounds throughout the house, almost in unison with the knocking on the door.

Eve hollers, “Come in Mykie.”

He answers, irritation clear in his voice as he steps in, “Good morning to you too Evangeline. No major injuries I see. Pity. A week in a hospital would have done wonders for your complexion.”

Sherlock steps forward, almost ready to engage in argument but I beat him to it, “It’s much too early in the day to beat one of my imbecilic brothers over the head with a lamp but I won’t hesitate.”

They both pause at that and Eve says, rolling up her sleeves, “I don’t have any such forebearing about beating one of them over the head with a lamp.”

I sigh exasperatedly, “Myc sit, Sher get the tea from the kitchen, Eve, you can go to another room if you can’t stand to be civilized.”

I pause and wait for them to comply, which they do. John murmurs to me, “Impressive.”

I laugh slightly, “It’s a skill.”

Eve busies herself in the kitchen, still grumbling under her breath about how she’d like to maim Mycroft, while Sherlock arrives with the tea tray, purposefully positioning it away from Mycroft. I roll my eyes at his antics but gesture for Mycroft to proceed.

*mycroft’s andrew west explanation*

Mycroft stands up and hisses, “Sherlock, this is of national importance.”

He scowls, “Then get Emberlyn to do it.”

Mycroft retorts, “Emberlyn has other work to do, especially with the Korean elections approaching. But you don’t need to know anything about that, do you?”

Sherlock lifts his violin and I sigh, dreading what was to follow. Sure enough, screeching emitted from his violin as he deliberately played off-key. I heard a crash in the kitchen accompanied by the sound of glass shattering.

“DAMMIT SHERLOCK!”

I snorted and even Mycroft smirked, “Good luck brother.”

Sherlock grimaced as Eve peeked out of the kitchen, “As much as I adore torturing Mycroft, giving me a warning first would be lovely! I just shattered my favorite champagne glass.”

John said incredulously, “You don’t even live here!”

Sherlock explains, “She gave me a glass which she used whenever she came around my flat.When I moved here, I took it with me.”

I interjected, “More concerningly, why were you touching the champagne glass at 10 am. Don’t tell me you were admiring it. You’re not sentimental.”

She sulked, “Listening to Mycroft talk is deserving of a glass of champagne. Not that I ever did get to drink it.”

She glares daggers at Sherlock who winces.

I stand up and shake my head, “Well, as long as she didn’t drink any alcohol, no harm done. I’ll leave you to wipe up your champagne puddle Sherlock. Mycroft will be waiting for me down.”

He nodded, dragging his feet as he went to the kitchen, Eve still looking put out over losing her glass of liquor. John waved as I left the flat. Soon I was out on the side walk of Baker Street. I didn’t see Mycroft but a familiar black BMW rolled up to me, the back window was rolled down and Megara came into view.

“We can talk in the car.”

I complied, sliding in as she opened the door.

“So, what does Mycroft have for me today?” I ask, as the car drives off into the street and towards my flat.

She brushes a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and takes out a few folders. She hands me a sheet, “This would be your schedule for the week. I’m sure you have Ms. Watson’s permission so your things are being moved currently. We’re merely heading to your house for a last look for anything they might’ve missed. For this week you don’t have any active teams to look over. Andrew West, as you know, will be taken care of by Mr. Sherlock Holmes. In your schedule you can see your meetings for the week.”

I nod, rifling through the papers she has given me. A beautifully detailed itinerary of my week.

“Currently, Mr Holmes has only asked you to see the physician that we’ll be stopping at on the way. “

I cut her off with an incredulous look, “I only have a few bruises.”

She arches an eyebrow, “It’s about time for your monthly check up anyways.”

The vehicle comes to a stop outside the physician’s building and I grumble slightly as she marches me to the door.

I’m still scowling as we enter the vehicle again.

“Completely unnecessary.”

She allows herself a small snicker but says in a professional tone, “I almost forgot to mention the coffee I got you.”

I stare at the coffee and then at her, “Is this supposed to be the adult version of giving a child a lollipop after a doctor visit?”

Though she shrugs her eyes sparkle with mischief and I accept it with a sigh.

She continues her briefing from where we left off, “Mr. Holmes, only wishes for you to rest up today. Your main assignment this week would be researching one of our high profile potential criminals.”

She delicately hands me a rather thin file. I flip through its meager two pages with surprise, “This is all we have?”

She nods, “Precisely, why he wants you to investigate further I presume. And, you didn’t hear this from me but he probably would also like you to lay off the legwork for a while.”

I grumble at her words but I’m more pre-occupied with the file before me. Attached it a clear cut photograph of the man and I find myself mildly amused as he seems to be striking a pose despite the photograph clearly being taken by a security camera.

“James Elwin Moriarty.” I murmur the name to myself, taken aback by how soft it sounds. So gentle and distinguished. Rather contrasting to the number of illegal deeds he has been suspected of being an accomplice in. Suspected being the key word there. He was rather thorough and careful. A puzzle indeed. Despite having much information about his suspected crimes there was little to none personal information. Education, childhood, parents, family. As if he was nobody. I suppose that’s what Mycroft wanted me to investigate.

Everyone has a weakness Charlotte, if you find it, they’re yours.

His words ring in my ear. Precious but cold-hearted advice which he gave in my first years at the secret service. Before I was a famed interrogator there. I closed the file and leaned back, closing my eyes.

“Thank you, Megara. I think I’ll take my brother’s advice and take a short nap. Tell me when we arrive.”

“Of course, Ms.Holmes.”

#Jim Moriarty #moriarty #james moriarty #moriarty x reader #jim moriarty x reader #james moriarty x reader #moriarty x holmes!reader #holmes!reader #mycroft x reader #holmes sister #sherlock fanfiction

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dongofthewolf · 4 years ago

Text

Everything in Between- Chapter 1

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

The reader stumbles across Abby one sleepless night and can’t help but become an absolute stuttering mess.

Warnings: swearing, mild violence, fluff, bad grammar lol

I’m extremely new to this so please be gentle T-T

Read chapter 2 here !

The first thing that you always noticed about a person was their eyes (it’s cliché you knew that, but you really couldn’t help it), and anyways… that was the first thing you noticed about her. The first time you saw her it was pouring outside; the kind of pouring where it got dark at 5pm and the reflections in the puddles on the pavement—partly distorted by the heavy raindrops—looked like fun house mirrors. It was brief and she only passed you for a second, but the clouds that were concealing the sun left a shadow of darkness in the air and in her eyes. Making her regularly blue eyes a much darker shade from the lack of sunlight, a blue that looked like the part of the ocean you can see from the shore but avoid from fear you may drown in it.

You had forgotten your umbrella that day leaving your hair drenched, you were shivering from the cold and desperately made your way to your room as quickly as you could. But as you hastily walked with your head down in an effort to conceal your eyes from the raindrops, you bumped into her. She was a lot taller than you and was incredibly built, she had her long blonde hair in a neat braid and was wearing some simple cargo pants with a grey sweater. She was also carrying some bags but you were walking too fast to really get a good look at them. Although this was the first time you had seen her and it was only for a moment you’ll never forget those eyes, those dark blue eyes that made it seem as if she was hiding from something. That was the first time you saw her but it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

It was stormy again but at least today you were inside, the howling of the wind against the windows woke you up and when you glanced at the digital clock it read 2:30. You always had trouble falling asleep again once you were woken from your slumber, and found that you required at least an hour before you could actually sleep again. Since it was so late though you figured that the cafeteria would be empty and you could grab a cup of tea before going back to bed, you also often sat in the commons room to read because it’s pretty isolated from the rest of the place and very seldom did anyone else sit there too.

You pulled a black crewneck over your messy hair and put on some slides before making your way down to the cafeteria, the hallways leading up to it were lit with fluorescent lights that burned your eyes when you stepped out of the darkness of your room. It was surprisingly silent (with the exception of your footsteps of course) and after living in a place constantly occupied by so many people for so many years, it was a rare occasion to find some peace and quiet; an anomaly that still surprised you to this day.

The cafeteria was nothing special, there were 30-40 folding tables lined up near the big tear stained windows and next to the kitchen there was a communal fridge with a basket of fruits no one dared to touch. Cabinets lined the whole half of the room and you reached into the second last one to grab some chamomile tea before setting the kettle on the stove.

You sat by the windows while you waited for the water to boil when you saw a strike of lightning, it was purple and quickly followed by a large cracking noise which weirdly enough didn’t quite startle you. You supposed that after all these years of living in a place that is universally known to rain more than anything, you become accustomed to the crashing sound of thunder and the sudden flashes of lightning. Plus, it’s a lot better than the sound of guns going off or those dreaded clickers that haunted your nightmares. So consumed by your thoughts you hadn’t even noticed the whistling noise coming from the tea kettle. It wasn’t until you heard an unfamiliar voice that nearly made you leap out of your skin, you turned around and standing there was the very girl you had briefly seen that rainy afternoon just three days ago.

“You gonna get that or should I?” She was wearing some grey sweats and a khaki tank top that showcased her huge biceps, you admired her toned forearms, unable to form any combination of words that wouldn’t make you sound like a complete and utter idiot. She must have noticed you staring though because she repeated the question with a raised eyebrow and a small smirk. “Hello?” She asked.

“Right… sorry” you immediately responded. You laughed nervously and hurriedly ran to the tea kettle, a small blush forming on your cheeks as you removed it from the stovetop. While pouring the hot water into a small cup you quickly threw the tea bag in so she wouldn’t notice your shaking hands, as you threw the bag in you quietly ignored the quickening beat of your heart. At this point you couldn’t tell if the shaking was because you were startled by her sudden presence or if you were nervous because of the literal goddess staring down at you.

“Sorry again about that I was just distracted.” You looked up and she was studying you with those same blue eyes, the intensity from her gaze made you ramble on.

“Did you want some tea? I accidentally boiled too much water, I guess eyeballing measurements just isn’t my forte.” You chuckled again, clearly flustered by this gorgeous woman looking at you in your damn pajamas. Somehow even at two in the morning she managed to look effortlessly beautiful and you couldn’t help but be fiercely jealous of her overwhelming confidence. Up until now, no one had ever had this effect on you, then all of a sudden this stranger looks at you once and BOOM you’re a stuttering mess.

“Sure, does this place have any chamomile tea?” She said nonchalantly while grabbing a chair from the stack in the corner. She sat in it backwards with her arms resting on top of the chair and you flashed a glance at her toned forearms “holy shit is she strong” you thought.

“Yeah, I’m having some too actually.” You poured out the tea and sat down across from her, this was the first time you had actually been able to really see her and you were in awe of how gorgeous she was; Her hair was in a simple braid which had a few strands astray (most likely from sleeping in it) and she had these adorable freckles that spread from her face all the way down to her arms. She was staring at her cup with those same intense blue eyes—this time the fluorescents adding a tint of green to them—she looked like a statue that was literally sculpted by the Gods and you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. As you looked down at her calloused hands that were cupping the warm ceramic cup, you noticed that they were a lot larger than your own, but they also had a delicacy to them; the kind of delicacy that deserved to be in a museum. Every aspect of her was absolutely perfect and never in your life had you seen someone like her, you were struck with this sudden need to know everything about her (even though she didn’t really seem like the chatty kind). Consumed by the essence of her beauty and strength you almost hadn’t realized that she was talking to you, and “oh God” You thought “I was staring again”.

“So uh… what’s your name?” It was obvious she was trying to fill the silence but there was a softness and kindness to her words, almost as if she was trying to appear harmless.

“Y/n and yours?” You replied in the calmest way that you could even though your hands were shaking like crazy, you gripped on to your cup for dear life hoping she wouldn’t notice. You were always so terrible around new people and now with the combination of not just a complete stranger, but an incredibly charming and attractive stranger? You were surely doomed.

“It’s Abigail but you can call me Abby, most everybody does.” She was clearly not oblivious to your nervous manner (and your staring) but she pretended not to notice, probably to spare you the embarrassment. Having people stare at her was nothing new to Abby and honestly, she liked it. She felt powerful and strong when men were intimidated by her, but the way y/n was staring at her was different. It certainly wasn’t fear because despite the shaking of y/n’s hands that she tried so desperately to conceal, she didn’t look at Abby with fear “Perhaps it was admiration?” Abby thought. But she soon nudged any ideas of romanticism from her mind figuring that y/n was probably into those douchebags who act cocky and disrespectful but are too chicken to ask a girl out; Abby despised disrespectful people. However, if there was anything that Abby hated more than disrespectful assholes, it was embarrassment. Abby’s confidence was one of her greatest strengths, it was like a shield she put forward that helped her endure the incredibly misogynistic environment she lived in. She figured that the staring was just intimidation. Abby was quite confident in her ability to judge a person’s character and brushed any thoughts of attraction to the back of her mind, not wanting to risk the possibility of rejection or being wrong.

“So what brings you to the cafeteria at this fine hour? Besides the tea of course.” She smirked, her smile was so infectious that you couldn’t help but smile as well.

“I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, figured I’d drink some tea and read for a bit in the commons room. Better than laying in my bed and staring at the ceiling for an hour I guess.” You stopped yourself before you could say something stupid or embarrassing. “What about you?”

“I just got here a couple days ago and I’m a pretty light sleeper which normally would be fine, but that damn thunder won’t shut the hell up!” She pointed her fist to the sky dramatically and you couldn’t help but giggle, she looked at you with a smile. “They stationed me here to do some work and I haven’t had much time to myself, they gave me some time off tomorrow and now thanks to this storm I’m gonna spend it passed out in my bed.” She paused, contemplating her words before continuing. “I’m glad I met you though, late nights are much better with company.” You could feel a heat trickle to your cheeks. “So what are you reading?”

“Pride and Prejudice” You answered excitedly. “It’s my favourite book, I’ve read it like a hundred times. I guess I’m just a sucker for cheesy love stories” She grinned.

“It was good but Elizabeth? She was way out of Darcy’s league, I mean yeah she had pride but Darcy was prideful and snobby.” You giggled at her response and the thought of this tough and brawny girl reading Jane Austen. “I mean, if you’re gonna have a terrible character trait just choose one. Not both!”

“Okay… But you gotta admit they were perfect for each other” You added. “Their weaknesses complimented each other and then their strengths the same. It’s like they were meant to find each other, and I mean just the thought of something like that gives me hope you know?” She looked at you with a raised eyebrow, urging you to elaborate. “Soulmates, I mean… just the thought of there being one single person on this entire Earth who was put here alongside you, the perfect match who’s strengths compliment your weaknesses and vice versa makes me feel some sort of hope.” You felt yourself getting carried away and decided to let her speak. “What can I say, I guess I’m nothing if not an optimist.”

“I get what you mean but I feel like that’ll just set you up for disappointment. There's so much more to life than just love and finding your ‘soulmate’. There’s thunderstorms, books, good food, there’s family and friends, and strangers that make you tea.” she glanced at you and your heart skipped a beat “this is insane!” You thought “Not only is she totally gorgeous, but she’s smart and funny? God she’s so perfect I think I might melt where I stand”

“Fine, fine, you got me there.” You smiled and was struck with this sudden feeling of security that you’d never felt before Abby, and though you’d never really admit it, you realized that all this time living in a facility had made you really lonely. Speaking to Abby was seriously the first time in this place that you weren’t thinking about the end of the world or crying over lost family and friends. At this small fold-out table in this dull and dreary cafeteria, you felt the first modicum of safety that you hadn’t felt for a really long time, and it was all because of her. You noticed that your mind had wandered off again of course but Abby’s mind seemed to be elsewhere as well, she had an almost nervous or unsure look on her face.

“Hey, so I know you said you were gonna go read in the commons room but do you think you could ditch Elizabeth and Darcy for a bit? I haven’t really gotten a chance to see this place and I was hoping you could maybe give me a tour.” Abby asked in a casual tone, hoping y/n wouldn’t notice the slight nervousness in her voice.

“Of course! I’d love to show you around, though there isn’t much to see other than empty halls and abandoned rooms” You replied enthusiastically. You were ecstatic, she was the first person you had really connected with in a while and you jumped at the opportunity to spend more time with her.

“I don’t mind, as long as I have you to keep me company.” She winked at you and smiled warmly. You felt your heart skip a beat again “Is Abby flirting with me?” You thought. “Nah, probably not” She was the coolest and most beautiful girl you’d ever seen. What would she see in you? Plus Abby probably isn’t even into girls, she’s just being friendly.

You walked her through each of the empty halls and corridors while you guys chatted about books, friends, family, life before the outbreak, and everything in between. You even traded embarrassing dating stories in which you both had to stifle loud outbursts of laughter so you wouldn’t wake up the rest of the facility. While you were speaking about your various dating escapades you decided to sprinkle in a story about a girl to see Abby’s reaction.

“Okay okay I got a good one, so once I was dating this girl and we actually moved in with each other like a month into the relationship but that’s not important. Anyways, so I had this cat right and when we broke up a few months later and she moved out, she took the cat!” You both bursted out laughing. “She literally stole my cat and I was so pissed that I keyed ‘thief’ into her car.”

“Remind me not to piss you off y/n, you’re a vengeful one.” Abby chuckled and responded casually. You were slightly unsatisfied, she hadn’t reacted to that statement (or any of the subtly gay references you made) at all and you couldn’t tell if it was because she liked girls or because she didn’t care. It didn’t really bother you that much though because this was the most fun you had had in a long time. When you were laughing and talking with Abby all the thoughts about your family and impending doom—thoughts that were once constant—had begun to fade away. All that mattered now was Abby, she was the best thing that had happened to you in a really long time and you were so grateful to have met her.

By the time you guys had decided to depart it was six in the morning, Abby walked you back to your room and you couldn’t help but feel like every atom in your entire body was vibrating.

You had spent an entire night with this amazing girl who was now the first friend that you’ve had in a while, your cheeks were bright red and your heart felt like it was shaking. When you laid your head on your pillow to sleep you couldn’t shake the thought of those brilliant blue eyes, and that clever, knowing grin that made you melt. God, and you couldn’t forget those gigantic biceps, you just wanted her to crush your skull with those beautiful, freckled arms. You adored her, and as you drifted off into a deep and peaceful slumber you dreamt of the most incredibly gorgeous, funny, charming, and intelligent girl you had ever met: Abigail Anderson.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson #abby tlou #fluff #fxf #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #the last of us imagine

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