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#I’m fairly certain that’s not how it works but I’m gonna pretend it is because it’s funny
tinithebini · 9 months
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Two guys for the price of one! What a deal! (one of them is severely traumatized and burdened with the impossible weight of the apocalypse) ((actually they both are, very badly))
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merskrat · 2 years
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Hi there, do you have any tips/advice for young women who are starting to explore witchcraft/wicca?
Everyone is going to tell you to read everything you can get your hands on, but the single most useful book I own is an encyclopedia type book about the metaphysical properties of herbs and plants, many of which you can get in a grocery store (I found the book in a free box too). When I first built my altar, it was basically bare except for some candles and a little incense dish where I burned herbs. When you have a solid understanding of herbs and start building your collection, you can do a lot. You can use them in almost any spell as long as you have the right ones. If you have a collection of fifteen different herbs, you could probably do almost any spell that you might need for everyday life.
I’ve also found that spells that I craft myself are far more powerful. Familiarize yourself with the components. I mentioned herbs but there’s also the phases of the moon, the best day of the week for a certain spell, color correspondences for candles (you can make up your own—you do not need to follow someone else’s), and the actual writing of the spell (if you have ever been good at writing poetry it comes fairly naturally. I do like mine to rhyme but they don’t have to.) There are a lot of spell books out there but I’ve gotten to the point that I don’t use mine anymore because I feel that a spell that only I have used is more powerful than something widely published and used by many.
Shadow work, to become comfortable of the aspects of yourself or your past that are hard to accept. Shadow work could be journaling (lots of prompts online specifically for this purpose) or even just therapy if you’re into that. I think a lot of us turn to witchcraft as a way to heal as well as to affect our surroundings. So heal! Tarot cards are good for this too as they can make us examine different aspects of our life, or make us see a situation differently.
Keep detailed records of your spells so you can reference them later. I’ve actually found that a binder works great for a grimoire because you can move pages around, take them in and out, etc. For me it was difficult to use a big leather book because I was scared of messing up, didn’t know how many pages to allocate to each section, etc. I still make my pages aesthetically pleasing and if you don’t want to hole punch them you can always slide them into a plastic sleeve and put them in the binder that way. It’s been a game changer for me, not gonna lie. Especially as someone with ADHD, it’s been dope. Mine has a section for general information, a section for spells and rituals, and a section where I discuss the results of the spell if I feel it’s important.
Do not fall into a toxic positivity mindset or learn from those who have. The world is not “love and light” and as individual humans, neither are we. Whether we are spiritual people or not, we are driven by ego. Maybe a Buddhist monk somewhere has transcended (maybe), but we have not and never will. Witchcraft *is* about power and about manipulating our surroundings with our intent. I’m not saying you have to hex people (although you can), but when we put our intent out into the world, even if not for personal gain, it can always have unintended consequences on the universe or another individual. (As an example, if you do a job spell or a housing spell, we live in a capitalistic society—when you take that job or apartment for yourself, you are taking it from someone else.) Witchcraft generally is for personal gain, and we don’t need to pretend it’s not, because taking our power is not a negative act.
The idea that a deity has to “reach out” to you is just not true. They’re generally not going to reach out if you have done nothing to grab their attention in the first place. If you are interested in one, just go for it. I believe that each deity is simply one aspect of the divine, so just pick an aspect even, and see which deity resonates.
Hope this helps! 🕯
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Harry trying to do CJs hair.
(I think this is such a cute head canon)
It is very cute headcanon, I agree! I hope I did it justice-
Harry is trying to do CJ’s hair. Key word trying. Not because he can’t do people’s hair, but because she won’t sit still. And his crew isn’t helping.
I’m not entirely happy with this, but I’m not sure how to make it better, and there are some pretty fun moments, so, I hope you enjoy this!
They are in his cabin on Lost Revenge and Harry is trying to do his sister's hair. Key word trying, because unfortunately, yet unsurprisingly, said little sister isn't cooperating at all.
„Sit still, CJ,“ he complains, „Can't you sit still?“
She rather wildly motions around with her hands and almost hits him, which he takes as an answer.
No, of course she can't sit still.
Snickers sound from behind the doors and he surely recognises the voices of his crewmates:
„Is he really asking CJ to sit still?
„I mean, that's a pretty crazy request.“
„Are you really calling our first mate crazy?“
Harry tugs at CJ's hair to get it to behave, if nothing else will, and grumbles towards the door: „I'll hook all you all, you port-rats, if you don't shut up at once.“
He can't even turn around and flash his favourite weapon at them, which would make the threat more frightening, because he'd need to let go of CJ's hair for that and there is no way she'd sit for another round of brushing. She'd probably just bolt. Or mess up her hair, purely out of spite.
They do shut up, but still linger; CJ giggles and finally, he hears footsteps heading away. He is fairly certain it was CJ's laugh and not his threat that set them off, but fair is fair. 
His sister's giggles are never a good sign.
„What's so funny, you little scallywag?“ he asks her, and extends his hand so she'd give him some hairpins.
„Nothing.“
Yeah, sure.
She doesn't give him the hairpins – he shakes his empty palm to remind her that he is still, in fact, doing her hair.
„What do you want?“ she asks instead, annoyed, as if she had any right to be annoyed in this situation.
„Hairpins. So your hair would, you know, stay in place.“
„…I don't have those.“
He's gonna kill her. Right after he sends Desiree and Jonas to walk the plank – they are spying on them, again. Have they nothing else to do?!
Nothing to entertain themselves with?! 
Cards? Loaded dice games? Betting on anything and everything? Sparing? Keeping look-out?
Wait, no. Gonzo is on the look out right now.
But they could always be scrubbing the decks.
He huffs and lets go of CJ's hair.
„Go get some, then. And look into your bag and pockets first.“
Maybe Harriet gave her some and she just forgot? That would be like CJ, honestly. But even if she really has none, she could always steal some.
And he can discipline his crew in the meantime.
Before he leaves the room, he grabs his hook. Just because.
Dealing with the crew goes as good as expected, meaning they quickly pretend to have some work as soon as they see him walking around. And like the reasonable first mate he is, he assigns them to repair the nets instead of scrubbing the deck or, you know, feeding them to sharks.
When he gets back to his cabin, CJ has exactly zero (0) hairpins, three (3) daggers (nothing new, really), and one (1) book, which she didn't have before and which she did not take from his cabin, he is sure.
„What do you have, Calista?“ he asks.
„A book?“ she answers, hiding the book behind her back.
„And where did you get it…?“
She scrunches up her nose, obviously thinking hard of an acceptable lie, and she needs to work on that, really.
„CJ.“
„Yeah?“
„Tell me you didn't take the book from Uma's cabin.“
She doesn't answer, which means she did. She couldn't have taken it anywhere else, as there are no other books on the ship, anyway, and Uma is in Chip Shoppe right now. She won’t come home for an hour at least, either. He quickly reaches out and grabs the book to get a look at it.
It is the book Uma borrowed from Harriet a few weeks ago.
„But it's Hettie's anyway!“ protests CJ.
„Irrelevant,“ he scolds his little sister, „You have no business going to the Captain's cabin.“
He continues with few mild death threats when she makes a long face at him.
„And didn’t Harriet forbid you to read her books anyway?“
„…Well, yes, but she isn’t there to see, is she?“
Harry just facepalms. But, well, if it keeps her still…
„You can keep it while I do your hair. You WILL put it back before you leave the ship, or I will make you a snack for the sea gulls. Savvy?“
She nods and Harry nudges her to ask Desi, Marya or Bonny for some of their accessories (read: subtle lock-picking tools), under supervision, of course. CJ proceeds to threaten them if they do not obey, and the girls surrender to her threats under his glare. CJ needs to work on her death threats a bit.
They settle on the floor, so he can finish her hairdo. Finally.
CJ sets the book in her lap and starts reading out loud – Harry will have you know that he did not need to hear his baby sister read his older sister’s scarlet library out loud, thank you very much.
He is nearly done when CJ suddenly jerks away from his hands and bolts to her bag: She fishes some kind of ribbon or shawl out of it and hands it to him.
„Can you add this into my hairdo, please?“ she says.
„…Is that a garotte?“
„Yes,“ she says, jumping up and down with excitement, „Can you add it to my hairdo?“
He most certainly isn’t doing that. Well, he could, but… He isn’t feeling like it.
„Unrealistic,“ he decides, „Just tie it to your belt like the rest of us.“
She deflates and falls down to the floor again, playing idly with the weapon. Well, at least that means he will not need to listen to another passage of that, ehm, writing.
He manages to finish her hair in peace, which is quite the miracle, but he is happy with the few braids and bun he made her. People won’t be able to easily grab her hair like that and it won’t be flying everywhere in the wharf winds.
He hauls her up her feet and practically drags her from his broken mirror, as she’d surely nick his eyeliner were she allowed to linger. He knows her tricks. Absolutely not because he uses the same ones when visiting Harriet, mind you.
They exit his cabin and before CJ can bolt away with the book, he pushes the dull loop of his hook into her back.
„Keep your sticky fingers for yourself, while you are on my ship,“ he advises her: She sights melodramatically, but heads towards Uma’s cabin and drops the book there without further ado. He then makes her empty her pockets, just in case.
Harry sees her out, and as soon as he disappears, he finds a good deal of his crew gathered behind him. And all of them are asking him to do their hair, too.
The bloody traitors.
„Please?“ Gil makes puppy eyes at him over the various ruckus the pirates are making.
Et tu, Brute? Harry thinks, and instead grumbles: „Should have hooked you lot when I had the chance…“
If he did it now, Uma would be angry.
He does end up doing their hair.
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kenta-rin · 1 year
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Ch1-2
[I DID NOT WRITE THIS, it got deleted years ago and I’m uploading it here for posterity]
Tips For Expanding Your Business On An International Scale
013
Summary:
Twenty year old Jesse McCree is sent to Hanamura by the Deadlock Gang to broker a contract pertaining to the buying and selling of illegal arms from the influential Shimada family. He's fairly sure the first rule of negotiation is not to hit on the boss's son. That rule proves to be harder to follow than he anticipated.
Notes:
for my beloved mal. rated explicit for future chapters.
Chapter 1: in fair hanamura where we lay our scene
Chapter Text
Hanamura is the kind of place out of storybook that Jesse McCree pretends to hate and secretly loves. It’s gorgeous. All the cherry blossoms are in bloom. They must be synthetic, because he’s pretty sure it’s not the right season.
Jesse McCree is also the sort of person who dresses up like a spaghetti western cowboy and exaggerates his southern drawl and spouts one-liners before he blows people's brains out. He likes a little storybook fantasy in his life. Hanamura would be perfect for him - it would be, if he wasn’t forced to go incognito for this mission.
He’s working on negotiating with his handler from the Shimada family. Let me put my old clothes back on once I’m in the compound, he wheedles. Surely it wouldn’t do any harm. If you guys are as powerful as you say you are, there can’t be any harm in it.
There’s a reason Jesse’s the one who got sent from his weapons cartel in New Mexico. It’s not exactly that he’s a good diplomat; it’s that he knows how to manipulate. He finds weak spots and exploits them. The Shimadas are proud. An appeal to their power is guaranteed to get Jesse what he wants.
It’s not that he doesn’t like the lightweight yukata he’s been given to blend in. It’s actually very comfortable. Jesse could get used to it, really.
But there’s no drama in it. If Jesse’s gonna get what he came here for (and you know he is) he needs to impress these people. He needs to make a lasting impression. He’s not gonna manage that in a lightweight little bathrobe. He needs his get-up. His hat, his spurs, his pistols.
The low-slung, stylish black town car that ferries Jesse from the private landing strip through the streets of Hanamura becomes an impromptu dressing room as his handler finally concedes. It’s awkward changing in the close quarters, and Jesse nearly smacks the Shimada representative in the face more than once, but he feels better when he’s decked out.
The car slides like ink through the city streets, through the gates of the Shimada compound, down a significantly long driveway. The grounds of the compounds are sprawling and picturesque. They look like they came straight from a painting, with their still ponds and wooden bridges and petals gathering on stone paths.
The city was full of noise, but beyond the gates everything is quiet. Peaceful. McCree was expecting a certain amount of bustle. God knows his own gang’s headquarters back in the States is a whirlwind of chaos at all times.
Here, Jesse doesn’t see a single person until the car pulls up alongside the main house, bigger than all the others scattered around it. There’s someone standing on the path to the door, sweeping cherry blossoms rather listlessly. A girl, Jesse thinks. She’s facing away from him, but she has long black hair falling down over her shoulders.
She pushes that hair away from her face. She must be hot, Jesse realizes. That’s why she’s so listless. She shrugs her arms out of the sleeves of her yukata and ties them around her waist.
Not a girl, Jesse thinks, taken aback. Definitely not a girl. Those shoulders are dense with muscles, thick and corded, and now Jesse notices the rectangular shape of his body, and it seems obvious. The only feminine thing about him is his hair.
He must hear the car then, because he turns and looks. The windows of the car are tinted black from the outside, so it’s not possible for him to see Jesse, but somehow Jesse feels like the boy is staring him straight in the eye. Jesse realizes he’s leaning forward in his seat. He sinks back, unsettled by the sharpness of those eyes.
“Hanzo Shimada, heir of the Shimada family,” his handler informs him disinterestedly.
“The heir of the family’s out sweepin’ the front yard?” Jesse asks, raising his eyebrows. Hanzo Shimada, he knows from his cartel’s info, is one year older than Jesse. He’s extremely proficient with a blade and a bow, and if he’s good with a bow Jesse suspects he’d probably be fairly handy with a gun, too. He’d known from pictures that Hanzo Shimada was handsome, but he hadn’t expected to be faced with it like this. Hanzo’s bare chest is glistening with sweat in the summer heat. Jesse’s eyes keep getting drawn back to the sharp, angular lines of his face.
“It is strange,” Jesse’s handler answers with a hint of disapproval. “It is Genji’s duty to keep the walkway clean. Such duties are given to important men to teach them humility and restraint.”
Jesse has this funny feeling like the handler is barely keeping himself from adding, Things you would know nothing about.
The car stops right in front of Hanzo Shimada. He’s leaning against his broom, his brow slightly furrowed. Jesse wonders if he wasn’t informed that they were expecting visitors today, but it would be awfully strange to keep the heir of the family in the dark like that.
The driver scrambles out of the car and opens Jesse’s door for him. Mighty fancy. He steps out of the vehicle. Hanzo Shimada’s sharp gaze immediately sweeps over him. He has a stern expression on his face that doesn’t betray his emotions, but a good poker face can’t hide the way his eyes linger on Jesse’s belt buckle. He smirks lasciviously.
Jesse’s handler says something curt to Hanzo, and it deepens his frown. It was obviously a chastisement; Hanzo unties the sleeves of his yukata and puts it on properly again. Jesse wants to tell him what a shame it is, but he’s fairly certain that one of the first lessons of negotiation is not to hit on any of the boss’s children.
Hanzo turns away without saying a word to Jesse. He leans his broom next to the front door and then disappears inside. Jesse’s handler guides him into the house.
The Shimadas are arms dealers - the biggest arms dealers in Japan. Jesse McCree is a member of an arms dealing cartel - the Deadlock Gang - in the southern United States. Not the biggest organization in the whole country, but significant nonetheless.
The Deadlock Gang wants what the Shimadas are selling, but the Shimadas are wary of dealing internationally. Operations like that fall apart so easily these days. The myth of Icarus hangs heavy over the head of the Shimada patriarch, whose job is to balance the benefits of money and power with the threat of attracting the attention of global peacekeeping forces.
Jesse is here to convince the Shimadas that the Deadlock Gang is perfectly trustworthy and discreet.
Or at least, that’s the official story. The real reason Jesse’s here, decked out like a hero from the old American Wild West, like a character from a story, is to convince the Shimada family that the risk is worth the reward.
Because in all honesty, the Deadlock Gang is neither trustworthy nor discreet. But they sure do know how to have fun.
The first day of negotiations is all formality. They don’t really discuss business at all. Shimada introduces Jesse to the important members of his organization. Hanzo sits seiza at his right side. The younger son, Genji, is conspicuously absent, though an open space at the Shimada patriarch’s left side indicates the place he is meant to be.
Jesse is treated to the honour of a formal tea ceremony and a variety of other entertainments which he pretends to find fascinating, but his attention keeps drifting first of all to how uncomfortable it is to sit on the floor for prolonged periods of time, even when he’s graciously been given a cushion, and second of all to Hanzo, who shows no sign of discomfort whatsoever.
Hanzo had obviously ducked away after being chastised by McCree’s handler - who was finally introduced to him as Katsu, though whether that’s a family name or a given name is lost on Jesse - to change into formal clothing. His long hair has been drawn back into a tidy knot at the top of his head, emphasizing the prominence of his cheekbones, as well as the graceful curve of his neck, which Jesse hadn’t noticed earlier.
The way Jesse’s eyes get magnetically drawn to Hanzo every time there’s a lull in activity gives Jesse a terrible sense of foreboding. This may turn out to be a problem.
It gets worse, too. After the formal entertainment is finally concluded and Jesse is stiffly climbing to his feet, grimacing at the pins and needles in his legs, he looks around for Katsu. He finds Hanzo at his elbow instead, looking a little bit awkward, and still as stern and frowning as he has been since Jesse first saw him.
“If you’ll follow me, I’ll escort you to your quarters,” Hanzo says. It’s the first time Jesse’s heard him speak English. His accent is thick but his voice is confident. He doesn’t hesitate between words.
“What happened to Katsu?” Jesse asks. It’s not that he’s not glad to spend more time subtly admiring Hanzo, but he does feel like it was a little too easy to get rid of the disapproving handler from before.
Hanzo makes a pained sort of expression, which Jesse thinks is a little rude. “My father believes that since we are the same age we should get to know each other better.”
Jesse decides to ignore Hanzo’s grimace. “Sounds like a good idea to me,” he says, smirking at the way Hanzo’s brow furrows. “You’re wrong, though,” he tacks on at the end.
Hanzo’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “About what?” he asks, voice cautious.
“We’re not the same age. You're older than me.” Jesse grins.
Hanzo’s frown gets even deeper. “I do not think one year is very significant,” he protests. McCree knows that’s bullshit, because in Hanzo’s eyes his younger brother is probably still a child. He doesn’t call Hanzo on it though, for the sake of diplomacy.
“Show me to my chambers then,” he says, simultaneously changing the topic and aiming a salacious smile at Hanzo. It apparently flies right over his head, because he doesn’t respond at all before leading the way out of the front door of the house.
The grounds of the compound are dark now that the sun has set. It’s a cloudy night, no stars or moon visible, but there are floodlights lining the many snaking paths through the cherry trees. Hanzo isn’t talkative. Jesse makes one or two attempts to start a conversation, but they fall flat.
Jesse is well aware that Hanzo’s father had ordered Hanzo to get to know him as a strategy for the negotiations, but the Shimada patriarch seems to have been overly optimistic. Jesse’s going to have a hard time spilling incriminating information to someone who won’t even speak to him.
They take a turn into a dark area that looks like a garden and Hanzo stops short. It takes Jesse a minute to make out the source of the problem, but once his eyes are adjusted to the gloom he can see Hanzo’s gaze is fixed on a bench.
There’s a boy sitting on it, and on top of the boy is a girl. Jesse’s surprised at how quiet they are, but he supposes that, after all, their mouths are otherwise engaged.
“Genji,” Hanzo snaps. Jesse wonders how he can recognize his brother so easily in the dark. Then again, Jesse’s an only child. And also, there’s probably a very short list of people who would be having an illicit rendezvous on Shimada family property.
At the sound of Hanzo’s angry voice, the girl yelps, gathers the skirts of her kimono, and runs off into the darkness. Jesse wishes her well in all her endeavors.
Hanzo doesn’t seem interested in her at all. He’s still glaring at the figure on the bench.
“Hanzo,” Genji sighs, put-upon. He continues in Japanese. Jesse cannot for the life of him make out what he’s saying, but his tone is always flippant. When Hanzo replies, his words are equally inscrutable, but he sounds angry.
Genji stands up from the bench, rearranges his clothing - he’s not wearing the traditional yukata Jesse’s seen everyone else around here wearing. He looks like any other teenage kid on the street. Jesse guesses that doesn’t make his dad very happy.
Something Hanzo says seems to actually, finally, make an impression on Genji because he straightens up, alert. His eyes zero in on Jesse.
“Ah,” he says. At least, Jesse thinks it’s just “ah,” but for all he knows he could be saying cucumber in Japanese. “Our visitor from America.” Genji has a lot less of an accent than Hanzo. Jesse figures he knows Hanzo well enough, at this point, to guess that that bugs the shit out of him.
“Pleasure to make yer acquaintance,” Jesse says with a big, friendly smile and a tip of his hat. Genji laughs delightedly.
“Just like a movie star,” he says, his voice full of admiration. Jesse tries not to be too pleased about it. “If I had known my absence would mean you’d get stuck with Hanzo as a tour guide, I might have actually come to the welcoming party. But that stuff’s not really my thing.”
“That stuff?” Hanzo breaks in, his voice tight with anger. “You mean, your responsibility as a member of the Shimada family?” Jesse is mighty obliged that they’ve started arguing in English for his benefit.
“Stuff like, you know, sitting seiza,” Genji corrects, casual, but Jesse can see in the way his eyes cut to Hanzo’s face that he’s about to go on the offensive. “And following Father’s every order like a trained dog.”
Hanzo sputters in indignation. Jesse can tell he’s not very good at arguing; he’s the kind of person who gets flustered when he’s mad. If he was pushed far enough, he might even be the type to start crying out of frustration. Jesse is both intrigued and horrified by the idea. He wishes he had some popcorn to keep him company while this spectacle unfolds.
“I follow Father’s orders out of respect,” Hanzo snaps, but it lacks weight. Genji is smirking carelessly. There’s no way for Hanzo to recover enough to win this fight.
That smirk is a warning. Jesse knows full well Hanzo should get outta here before Genji lands his finishing blow. But Hanzo is too proud for that. It’s obvious he doesn’t back down from a fight, even when he’s losing.
The really cutting thing is that Genji turns away from Hanzo and addresses his final insult to Jesse.
“He’s really just mad that I was kissing that girl,” Genji says flippantly. His eyes dart to Hanzo, taking obvious pleasure in the way his brother’s face turns red. “He wouldn’t be so mad all the time if he wasn’t such an uptight virgin.”
“Genji!” Hanzo shouts, mortified. Even in the gloom Jesse can see the colour that’s spread across his cheeks and ears. Hanzo’s gaze flickers uncertainly between Jesse and Genji, as if he’s not sure who he wants to glare at more. Jesse will give him one thing - he refuses to look down. “I would never dishonour our family the way you do,” Hanzo spits at Genji finally.
Jesse thinks it would have been a better move not to address the accusation at all, because all he’s done is confirm that he really is a virgin. Jesse is fascinated.
“Oh, what,” Genji begins, practically preening in his victory, “You’re worried that I’ll father illegitimate children, or something? There’s this nifty new invention you might have heard of, it’s called a condom -”
“Shut up!” Hanzo snaps. Genji does, surprise making his mouth click shut before he realizes that he’s just conceded a point to his older brother. It makes him petulant. Jesse’s beginning to see that Genji is both a poor winner and a poor loser.
“Well, it’s none of my business anyway,” he says with a fake smile. “Have fun playing tour guide.” Rather than following one of the garden paths, he disappears between two trees.
Hanzo is still fuming. Jesse can’t stop looking at him. A virgin. He almost wants to ask it like a question. A virgin? Hanzo is incredibly good looking, as Jesse has noticed every ten minutes since he first laid eyes on him. He’s muscular. He’s rich. He’s powerful. He’s a shit conversationalist, but girls are supposed to like the strong, silent type, aren’t they?
Girls. Jesse wants to laugh at himself. He likes the strong, silent type, apparently.
Hanzo starts walking again without further comment. Jesse’s accommodations are a whole guest house to himself, with a fully stocked kitchen and a bigger bed than Jesse’s ever slept in in his whole life. Everything is Western style, including the toilet, which Jesse is extremely grateful for. Hanzo is quiet and moody but he points out everything Jesse might need dutifully.
“You are supposed to call me any time you need something,” he says finally. He seems reluctant about it.
Jesse looks around. “How?” He asks. The guest house is pretty far from the main building, which is where, he assumes, Hanzo sleeps.
Hanzo hesitates for a moment, and then pulls a phone out of a hidden pocket in his clothes.
Jesse grins. He hadn’t really pictured Hanzo owning a cell phone, honestly, but he supposes when you’re twenty-one you’re twenty-one, even when you’re the son of a Japanese arms dealer who lives in a perfectly preserved diorama of a nineteenth century village.
Jesse pulls out his own phone. Hanzo sets up a direct messaging line between them. “You should only message me if you need me,” he says sternly. Jesse fails to hide a smile. Hanzo sighs, resigned, like he already knows it’s a lost cause.
“I’ll come and meet you tomorrow morning to bring you to my father’s rooms for breakfast,” Hanzo says, standing in the doorway of the guest house. Jesse smiles at him. He looks awfully pretty silhouetted there. “Goodnight,” he says, and closes the door.
“Goodnight,” Jesse drawls after him.
The smile stays with him as he gets ready for bed in his very fine apartments. He brushes his teeth and curls up in bed and he’s at the point where his eyes are closed and normally he’d fall asleep right away when the reality of jet lag hits him.
He lies awake for a long time. His mind keeps circling back to Hanzo Shimada. His bare chest in the sunlight. The slender line of his neck, punctuated by his sharp Adam’s apple. The way his ears turned red when he was embarrassed. Virgin.
Jesse’s sense of foreboding from earlier in the day comes back with a vengeance. This is definitely going to be a problem.
 Tips For Expanding Your Business On An International Scale
013
Chapter 2 Notes:
helpful reader pointed out that my incompetent ass messed up mccree and hanzo’s ages so i went back and edited a few lines in the first chapter (along with a few typos ESP. the one that said “hanzo’s bear chest” because honestly how did i publish that sentence see once more: my incompetent ass). anyway just for clarity’s sake hanzo is 21, mccree is 20 and genji is 18.
Chapter Text
“McCree,” a voice calls the next morning. Jesse opens one eye warily. The name sounds awkward and unwieldy in Hanzo’s mouth, almost three syllables.
“Call me Jesse,” he rasps, his voice sleep-rough. He’s in nothing but his boxers and he’s kicked the blankets off of his bed in the night. He arches his back in a stretch; Hanzo pointedly looks away.
“I will wait for you downstairs,” Hanzo says.
“No need to be shy,” Jesse calls after him, unable to suppress a grin. Hanzo pretends he didn’t hear.
Jesse stares at himself in the mirror and wonders how much time he has. Enough for a shower? Enough for a shave? He decides to take his time. If Hanzo doesn’t like it, he can come up and tell Jesse himself. With that in mind, Jesse spends as much time shirtless as he can possibly justify.
It doesn’t make a difference in the end. Hanzo waits steadfast as a rock - a handsome rock - in the entranceway of the guest house. He makes no comment when Jesse finally swaggers down the stairs in a slightly different but still very theatrical cowboy outfit.
Unfortunately, the walk to the main house is as awkward as the walk to the guest house had been the night before, without any entertaining interruptions. Breakfast begins in much the same way.
Then Genji arrives, and Jesse starts to suspect that the only time anything interesting happens in the Shimada family is when the youngest son is around.
It starts when Genji breezes into the room like nothing is amiss whatsoever. His father practically jumps to his feet and begins what Jesse can only assume is a tirade, though nobody thinks to translate it for him. Most of the people around the table are glaring disapprovingly at Genji. Hanzo is still staring at his plate of food, picking at it. He looks miserable. Jesse probably isn’t meant to notice that.
Shimada’s anger seems to slide off of Genji without ever leaving a mark. Genji has this carefully constructed aloof smirk on his face, a nonchalance that must have been practiced for years to be so perfect. He walks right up to the table and sinks down beside Jesse.
Shimada suddenly turns his angry gaze from Genji to Jesse. Jesse’s insides freeze under the force of his glare. He has no idea how Genji can stand it. He also feels a little bitter about the fact that he’s being put in the middle of this father-son feud.
However, Genji’s strategy is sound. Shimada seems to remember that they’re in the presence of a guest - a guest who is definitely willing to capitalize on any weakness they expose to him - so he resumes his seat. Everyone sort of awkwardly goes back to what they were doing before: sitting in silence.
After a a few minutes a man comes in and starts speaking quietly to Shimada. Shimada makes his excuses and leaves the table. Many of the other family members follow.
Genji turns to Jesse as soon as they’re gone with a smile on his face.
Hanzo glares suspiciously from across the table, but Genji leans in close and whispers so that Hanzo can’t hear what he’s saying.
“So, I was thinking you might want to have a little fun while you’re here in Hanamura,” Genji begins. Jesse already knows that whatever he’s about to say is nothing but trouble.
God help him, but Jesse loves trouble.
“I mean, I don’t know if you can sneak away from my brother,” Genji continues, and that’s a challenge if Jesse’s ever heard one. Jesse’s looking across the table at Hanzo, who is, in turn, trying to stare a hole into the side of his younger brother’s head. He’s cute when he’s mad.
“I reckon I could if I wanted to,” Jesse replies easily, voice pitched just as low as Genji’s. “Why would I want to?”
Genji grins, thrilled that Jesse’s playing along. “How do you feel about beach parties?” Genji asks. Jesse raises his eyebrows and finally turns to look at him.
“Hanamura’s landlocked, last time I checked. How far is this beach?” Theoretically, Japan is an island and has beaches on all its sides. That doesn’t mean much in practice.
Genji laughs. Hanzo gets up on his knees and starts leaning over the table, his suspicion aroused enough to try to get closer in order to eavesdrop.
“It’s a man-made beach, right in the middle of the city,” Genji explains. He’s leaning even further into Jesse’s space now, but glancing out of the corner of his eye at Hanzo. Jesse wonders if everything anyone in this family does is a power play, or if his visit has just brought out the worst in them.
“And there’s a party there,” Jesse surmises. Genji nods.
“You could come. The girls would love you. They love Americans.”
Jesse wonders if Genji is trying to use him to get laid.
“I came here on business, you know. I can’t just go off and party.”
“One night won’t hurt,” Genji wheedles.
“Hanzo wouldn’t approve,” Jesse answers, just to see what happens.
Genji’s face falls into a fake exaggerated pout that actually reveals more of his genuine feelings than he realizes. Jesse’s good at reading people. “All Hanzo cares about is duty,” Genji complains.
“That’s not true,” Jesse responds, almost automatically. Then he slowly starts to smile. He has a terrible, wonderful idea. “What’s the dress code at this party?” He asks. “Do people actually swim?”
“Yeah!” Genji answers enthusiastically. He really thinks Jesse is going to sneak off of the Shimada’s compound to attend a teen beach party in the middle of an important business trip and subsequently help an eighteen year old get laid.
He’s not wrong.
“I’ll bring my swim trunks, I guess,” Jesse says with a grin. He didn’t actually pack any. Maybe Hanzo has an extra pair.
Katsu walks into the room, and Genji bolts. Katsu doesn’t seem surprised by that turn of events at all. Jesse guesses Genji’ll probably be back later to give him directions to the beach. Probably.
In the meantime, Shimada has finished with whatever business had called him away from breakfast and is requesting Jesse’s presence in his office.
The office is almost surprising, if only because it’s such a contrast to the rest of the Shimada compound. It’s very sleek and modern - it contains more modern technology than Jesse has seen since he’s gotten to Hanamura. There’s a desk with a very fancy and expensive-looking computer on it, and a rolling chair which contains Shimada himself.
“We should not rush our business,” Shimada says, slow and formal, with a slight smile on his face. He gestures to the chair across his desk. Jesse sits down. “Do you drink sake?”
Jesse has never in his life drank sake, and he thinks it’s a little too early in the morning for alcohol. “I sure do,” he replies, with a confident smile. Shimada pours them each a tiny cup.
It’s sort of awful. Jesse’s had worse.
“For today, I think we should start with discussing what the… Deadlock Gang… wants from the Shimada clan.” Everything Shimada says is carefully measured. Jesse’s wary of the way he says ‘Deadlock Gang’ - like it doesn’t taste right in his mouth.
“We’ve been forthright about what we want,” Jesse begins, cautiously.
What follows is a very tense game where they both pretend to not know what the other is trying to get out of this deal. It lasts for almost three hours. Jesse walks out of that office feeling like he has the upper hand. He’s also got a kink in his back from sitting so rigidly still for so long. Something about Shimada brings out an absolutely military posture in him.
He’s surprised to see Hanzo waiting for him in the hallway. Hanzo’s eyes are as sharp as always as they examine Jesse’s face, calculating. Jesse tries not to give anything away - not his satisfaction, and not his discomfort. Poker face.
Jesse’s idea of a poker face is more of a suggestive smirk. “Did you miss me?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.
Hanzo is distracted from his assessment immediately. His cheeks turn slightly pink and he scowls.
“No,” he mutters, and turns away. “I will give you a tour of the grounds,” he says. Obviously someone has ordered him to do so. Jesse suspects it was Katsu.
Jesse doesn’t mind a trip through the gardens at all. He has something to talk to Hanzo about with as few spectators as possible.
It’s a little horrifying, though, when Hanzo starts playing tour guide and explaining the genus and breeding process of the cherry blossom trees. Jesse lets him monologue for a little while, curious to know how long it will go on. He was partially right about the trees with their abundant petals being synthetic, anyway.
Hanzo stops speaking abruptly halfway across a bridge over a little pond. This is possibly because Jesse is hanging half over the railing of the bridge and sticking the tip of his finger into the water. All the koi have risen to the surface to nibble on it, expecting it to be a tasty insect.
“You’re not listening to me,” Hanzo accuses.
“What?” Jesse asks. He’s got a big, dumb grin on his face. The little fish mouths tickle.
“If you weren’t interested in the history of the Shimada compound, you could have told me,” Hanzo tells him. He sounds really offended.
Jesse pulls his finger back out of the water. “You could read me the phonebook and that’d be okay with me, as long as I got to look at you,” he says. He’s still grinning from the fish, but it takes on a different edge.
Hanzo’s mouth drops open in what Jesse is sadly forced to interpret as horror.
“You are an incredibly rude and disrespectful man,” Hanzo tells Jesse. Two things about it: first, Jesse already knew that, so it doesn’t offend him as much as Hanzo probably thinks it will; and second, he’s pretty sure he’s just saying it in an attempt to distract from the way he’s starting to blush. Again.
It’s way too easy to get Hanzo riled up. That sense of foreboding is back with a vengeance. Jesse really likes getting Hanzo riled up.
A virgin.
“So, I got this idea,” Jesse says, a little too loudly. He’s trying to derail his own train of thought. Don’t hit on the boss’s son. Definitely don’t think about fucking the boss’s son.
Hanzo raises an eyebrow at Jesse disdainfully. He obviously thinks Jesse’s idea is stupid before he’s even heard it. Jesse would be insulted if he wasn’t right.
“It’s really Genji’s idea,” he elaborates, and he watches colour rise in Hanzo’s face again - anger this time, not embarrassment.
“I would advise you not to listen to anything my brother says,” Hanzo says darkly. Unfortunately, it’s too late for Jesse to heed that advice. He’d already heard too much last night.
“He asked me if I wanted to go to a beach party with him,” Jesse says, grinning. The idea is still absurd. Jesse may still technically be young, but he’s a grown man. He’s also killed several people. It’s hard to picture himself going to a beach party. Will they have red solo cups? Will they have bad pop music?
Hanzo starts to smile a little too. “My brother doesn’t understand that there’s more to life than parties, unfortunately,” Hanzo says ruefully.
“Right,” Jesse agrees. He’s picked up on that much. Hanzo’s smile widens a little. It’s actually a little sad, Jesse thinks, how happy he is to find an ally. Jesse would be glad to be his ally. But first: “I think we should go.”
Hanzo’s smile drops abruptly. Jesse has to stifle a laugh. Hanzo looks so indignant.
“Why would you go?” Hanzo asks, his voice flat.
“It’s not important that I go,” Jesse explains. “It’s important that you go. Normally Genji would never tell you about something like this, so you wouldn’t know about it. I’m your in. You can use me as a way to follow him to this party, and then you can stop him from doing anything stupid.”
Hanzo’s brow furrows as he thinks about it. Jesse isn’t worried about what he’ll decide at all. Everyone has a weak spot, something that makes them make bad decisions. Hanzo’s is obviously his brother.
“That makes sense,” Hanzo concedes after a long moment of silence. Jesse suppresses the urge to fistpump victoriously.
So Hanzo and Jesse are going to a beach party together.
The tour of the gardens gets cut short because Jesse insists that he gets to choose what Hanzo wears to the party.
“You have no idea what people wear at beach parties,” Jesse tells Hanzo. Hanzo opens his mouth like he wants to argue, but he quickly realizes he absolutely cannot defend himself on that point. Hanzo leads Jesse up to his bedroom.
This would be a much more exciting and momentous occasion if Hanzo’s room wasn’t so bare and empty. Jesse’s heard the word spartan used to describe rooms with no decorations before, but this room is practically unfurnished, as well. The futon is put away when it’s not being used for sleeping, so the floor is wide and empty.
It’s weirdly unsettling for Jesse, whose room back home is always messy and cluttered with bedsheets and clothing and books and magazines and potato chip bags and the occasional (unloaded) pistol lying around everywhere.
Hanzo’s closet isn’t much better. He mostly owns a variety of traditional robes for various occasions. Jesse gets the impression he doesn’t actually leave the compound that often. Another strangely sad detail in a picture Jesse isn’t sure he wants to see in full. Hanzo does have civilian clothes, but -
“Why do you dress so ugly, just wondering,” Jesse mutters, pawing through weird button-up shirts with graphics screen-printed onto them.
Hanzo doesn’t answer. Jesse looks up and finds that he’s being glared at angrily.
“Do you have swim trunks?” He asks, turning away from the mess of hangers.
Hanzo pulls open a drawer. He has blue swim trunks with a dragon emblazoned on one of the legs. Jesse stares at it for a moment.
“Okay,” he concedes finally. “I guess that’s not too offensive. Do you have extras?”
Hanzo pulls out a plain black pair. “Thank god,” he murmurs, almost too low for Hanzo to hear. Hanzo is still glaring at him.
“Change of plans,” Jesse announces, snatching the second pair of trunks from Hanzo’s hands. “You’re just gonna wear something of mine.”
On the way to the guesthouse Jesse solemnly contemplates the tragic fact that Jesse has better clothes packed in one suitcase for a business trip than Hanzo has in his entire wardrobe. “What is up with the dragons?” He asks out loud, thinking of the swim trunks and at least one of the button-up shirts.
“The dragon is the emblem of my clan,” Hanzo replies tersely. He seems to be taking Jesse’s criticism very poorly.
When they finally get back to the guest house Jesse is surprised to see that someone has been in and made his bed, which he’d left a total mess that morning. He wonders if they touched any of his stuff. It doesn’t really matter if they did, because he’s smart enough not to have anything with him that he wouldn’t want touched. The thing is, he keeps getting this weird feeling about the Shimadas. Like they’re hoping that he is stupid enough to leave things out that he doesn’t want touched.
Anyway. They’re not gonna get what they want. Not from Jesse McCree, anyway. He pulls his suitcase up onto the bed and opens it up. It’s almost full to bursting with various pieces of cowboy accoutrements.
“I can’t believe you insulted my clothing,” Hanzo says.
“Excuse me,” Jesse bites back, “I didn’t say anything negative at all about your Japanese bathrobes or whatever. You don’t have any right to pass judgment on my weird anachronistic costuming choices. The only things I insulted was your awful civilian clothes, which I’m pretty sure no civilian in their right mind would wear.”
“They’re called yukata. They’re not bathrobes,” Hanzo snaps.
“Well, now we’re both upset, so good job,” Jesse answers. He moves his cowboy gear into a pile on the bed and starts sorting through the clothing underneath it. He picks up a plain grey long-sleeved henley and throws it at Hanzo’s head. “Here, wear this,” he says. To his chagrin, Hanzo catches it easily.
“Should I put it on now?” Hanzo asks.
“Sure, you might as well see if it fits,” he answers distractedly. He’s staring at his suitcase, looking for something for himself. Then he smiles and unzips his Emergency Compartment. He pulls out a lurid Hawaiian shirt.
He turns to see Hanzo slipping the henley over his head. He gets a second look at Hanzo’s bare torso. When Hanzo’s head pops out of the neck hole his hair is all mussed.
The henley looks good on him. Jesse’s almost mad at himself for being so right about it. The sleeves are a little too long. Jesse and Hanzo are both about equally broad around the shoulders, but Hanzo is several inches shorter.
“Is it okay?” Hanzo asks him. He sounds unsure.
“Yeah, it’s good,” Jesse replies. He doesn’t elaborate. Hanzo wanders into the ensuite bathroom to look at himself in the mirror.
“What should I do with my hair?” he asks, raising one hand to touch it. Out of sight, Jesse grins. He hadn’t expected Hanzo to be so vain. Then again - this is probably his first beach party.
Jesse’s starting to feel - weird. Because his brain is still unhelpfully exclaiming, ‘A virgin!’ in that inappropriately interested way, but that unsettled feeling from standing in the middle of Hanzo’s bare bedroom is also making his chest feel… cavernous. Like the inside of him is as empty as that room had been.
“Put it in a ponytail,” Jesse suggests. “A high one.”
Hanzo does as instructed. He ties his hair with something that looks suspiciously like a ribbon. Jesse would probably call him out about it if he wasn’t busy admiring Hanzo’s profile. Once again, pulling his hair back has accentuated the angles of Hanzo’s face and the line of his neck. But the ponytail is less severe than the knot had been.
Hanzo looks back at Jesse and Jesse pretends he hasn’t been staring. He looks down at the shirt in his hands. Hanzo follows his gaze.
“You are not wearing that shirt,” Hanzo says, very calmly, half an order and half a simple statement, as if it’s obvious that no circumstances would ever allow Jesse to wear that particular shirt anywhere ever.
Jesse grins. Hanzo’s resigned sigh gives him deja vu - the exact same exchange over Hanzo giving Jesse his phone number.
Jesse wears the shirt. They both wear Hanzo’s swim trunks. They wear sandals, which the Shimada compound has hundreds of. They loiter in Jesse’s guest house, waiting for some type of sign from Genji.
Just around sunset Genji throws the guest house door open. Jesse and Hanzo both jump at the loud noise. They’ve been sitting in absolute silence for almost an hour, Jesse draped upside down over one of the couches and Hanzo cross-legged on the floor next to the coffee table, flipping disinterestedly through a decorative magazine.
Genji’s face, which had been beaming with enthusiasm a moment before, drops as soon as he sees Hanzo. “What’s he doing here?” He whines.
“He wouldn’t let me come unless he came with me,” Jesse lies smoothly. “I couldn’t get rid of him, so I told him where I was going. Don’t worry,” he adds, seeing the stubborn set of Genji’s mouth. “I won’t let him kill the fun.”
Genji is evidently torn between wanting very badly to bring Jesse along like a toy for show and tell and wanting as little to do with Hanzo as possible.
“Come on,” Jesse says with a grin. “I’m sure your brother’s actually tons of fun once he’s gotten one or two - or ten - drinks in him.”
Genji looks grossed out by the idea - but also, undeniably, amused. “Okay,” he says finally. “But you’re responsible for him,” he adds sternly.
Hanzo is not happy about being talked about like a child no one wants to babysit. Jesse gives a sympathetic look in an attempt to appease him, and offers him a hand to pull him up off the floor. He doesn’t even comment on the fact that he thinks it’s unnatural for a grown man to enjoy sitting on the ground so much.
It’s obvious that Genji considers sneaking out an incredibly thrilling adventure, and he’s consequently highly melodramatic about it. He leads Jesse and Hanzo along a twisting route through the gardens. Jesse is certain they even double back on themselves at least once. A shared looked tells him Hanzo finds this as tedious as he does.
When they finally slip through the gate of the compound, which appears to be completely unguarded, making Jesse wonder what the point of all that tiptoeing around was, there’s a town car a lot like the one that picked him up from the airport parked against the curb. Genji gets into the front passenger’s seat. Hanzo and Jesse climb in the back.
One of the men from the breakfast table is driving. He and Genji talk loudly and amiably the whole drive.
Jesse shoots a questioning look at Hanzo. Hanzo shrugs. “Whenever Genji does something to anger my father, Yuri says, ‘boys will be boys.’ Whenever Genji asks Yuri for a favour, Yuri does it.” Jesse assumes the driver is Yuri. Hanzo seems baffled about why someone would enable Genji’s “misbehaviour.” Jesse thinks that Yuri probably feels bad for Genji.
Maybe he feels bad for Hanzo too. Maybe he would grant any favour Hanzo asked of him, too. Jesse wonders if Hanzo’s ever asked anyone for a favour in his life.
The man-made beach is not a long drive away from the Shimada compound. On the way, Jesse takes in Hanamura’s scenery. It’s very nice to look at. He’s also more or less given up on trying to make small talk with Hanzo at this point.
When they arrive at their destination it becomes clear to Jesse that whatever he expected the man-made beach to look like, he was way off. He supposes he would have assumed it would be like a lake dug into a plot of land with sand around its edges.
Genji leads Hanzo and Jesse into a building. There’s a sort of antechamber where there are already a bunch of teens gathered. They’re very hip. They all have multi coloured hair and piercings and their bathing suits all look like weird pieces of art.
Jesse feels very old and out of place. Hanzo subtly shifts closer to him.
Genji pays no attention at all to the people gathered, though they all turn to look at him. He breezes through the wide and mostly empty space and throws open a door. Noise comes flooding in. A lot of noise.
Jesse supposes that the biggest noise is a simulation of ocean surf. Waves washing up on shore or breaking against rocks. It ebbs and flows. Then there’s the pounding beat of a truly awful song. It’s some new wave electronica kind of thing. Mostly just discordant noises, from what Jesse can hear. Then there’s the murmur of hundreds of voices. Jesse hadn’t expected Genji’s beach party to be this well attended.
After the sound begins to settle in Jesse’s ears, he becomes aware of the smell of salt. It’s a weirdly accurate simulation of what a real beach smells like. The room is very dimly lit, with a few standing lights positioned here and there. When Jesse looks up he sees that the ceiling is inky blue and dotted with stars. There must be a projector somewhere.
The entire experience is an assault on his senses. He kind of wants to go home. He can feel Hanzo practically pressed up against his side and assumes that the feeling is mutual.
Genji either doesn’t notice or ignores their discomfort. He grabs Jesse by the wrist and starts dragging him through a crowd. Hanzo grabs his other wrist so that he doesn’t get left behind. This is weird, Jesse thinks to himself, feeling oddly detached from his body in a sea of people.
Genji shoves his way into a large group of people. They must be his friends; he starts speaking to them so fast that Jesse has no hope of understanding even one or two stray words. As Genji talks, the people gathered all turn to look at him.
Well, nothing else for it. He puts on his biggest, most self-confident smile.
One or two of them can apparently speak english, and they ask him questions that he can barely hear over the volume of noise in the room. Even the people who don’t speak english listen to his answers. He guesses that they like his accent. They keep asking him to repeat certain words. Sometimes they mimic what he says.
He feels like a bird performing tricks. This is not what he had in mind for the evening.
Genji eventually appears at his elbow with two drinks. Jesse takes them both from him.
“Hey!” Genji protests. “One of those is mine!”
Jesse gives one of the cups to Hanzo and takes a drink from the other. He has no idea what’s in it. It’s probably a terrible idea to drink it. It certainly tastes awful enough to be poison.
Genji is still whining at him about his drink. Jesse makes a face at him, at the taste of whatever’s in his cup, at this whole evening so far. He turns away from Genji and starts walking in a random direction. He realizes Hanzo is still clutching his wrist.
Jesse finds a relatively uninhabited place that also happens to be very far from the speakers. The music is nothing but a dull throb in the distance. A few other people have discovered this sanctuary and are lying in the sand, making out. Jesse carefully steps over them.
He finds himself at the edge of the water. Theoretically, he’d known there would be water, but the reality of it is still sort of shocking. He’s inside a building, but there is water lapping at the sand at his feet. When he looks out across the room he realizes that the walls are all camouflaged by the dim lighting. It really does seem like he’s at a beach somewhere.
Jesse looks at Hanzo. Hanzo looks at Jesse.
“This is awful,” Jesse says.
Hanzo starts laughing. It’s the first time Jesse’s heard him laugh. It’s weirdly endearing. Jesse starts laughing too.
“You said we should come,” Hanzo accuses, but he can’t seem to fight his own smile. Jesse’s eyes are accustomed to the awful dim lighting now. He can see that the hairs that have escaped from Hanzo’s ponytail are plastered to his face with sweat. He hadn’t even realized how hot it was until he noticed. It’s like his senses were so overloaded that he could only process one at a time.
“This place is like Hell,” he says, looking back the way they’d come from. There are so many people gathered that the crowd looks like a solid mass, and when a group of people moves through it the mass ripples and undulates.
“What’s in this cup?” Hanzo asks.
“I don’t know. It tastes awful,” Jesse says.
“Is it safe to drink it if you don’t know what it is?” Hanzo raises a skeptical eyebrow.
“I ain’t dead yet,” Jesse shrugs in reply. He takes another drink.
Hanzo stares at him for a moment. He gives the drink a suspicious sniff. Then he tilts his head back and chugs the whole thing.
Jesse almost drops the cup in his hand. He isn’t sure he’s ever been more impressed in his life.
He allows himself the small pleasure of watching Hanzo’s adam’s apple bob in his throat.
When Hanzo’s cup is empty he drops it in the sand, wiping his forearm against his mouth with an awful grimace on his face.
“You’re awesome,” Jesse tells him. His voice is sincere - full of awe. Hanzo purses his lips together in what Jesse now recognizes to be embarrassment. He wishes they were somewhere else so that he could see the way Hanzo blushes.
“We should - we should do something,” Hanzo says abruptly. His speech sounds kind of sloppy. He reaches a hand up to touch his lips. “That drink made my mouth feel numb,” he mumbles wonderingly. Jesse starts laughing again. Hanzo joins in.
“What should we do?” Jesse asks him. It sounded like he’d meant to specify exactly what they should do, and then he’d chickened out.
Hanzo drops his gaze to the ground for the first time since Jesse’s met him. It’s the first time he’s ever looked shy. “We should go swimming,” he says. “It’s hot. And it’s a beach party.”
Jesse smiles slowly. On the one hand, he’s not sure it’s a really good idea after Hanzo just drank a whole cup of mystery drink. On the other hand, you only live once.
“The water’s right there, I guess,” he says. Hanzo meets his eye again, smile still a little shy, and a little hopeful. “We might as well swim.”
A sort of awkward moment follows where neither of them knows who should make the next move. They both look at the other expectantly. They both laugh at themselves.
Jesse decides to take one for the team. He reaches up to start unbuttoning his shirt. He realizes he’s still holding his half-full cup in his hands. He looks at it speculatively for a moment, then tosses it away to the side.
He hears two people start yelling. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s just doused one of the couples making out in some ungodly alcoholic concoction.
Hanzo catches on faster than he does. He starts laughing, and tears his shirt off over his head. He drops it into the sand, slips his feet out of his sandals, and runs off into the water.
Jesse looks after him for a moment, stunned. He’s completely different from the stern-faced Hanzo that sits on the floor at his father’s side. Jesse wonders what the difference is. One drink?
A room full of people. A borrowed shirt that’s not a yukata. The anonymity of a dark, noisy room. A temporary reprieve from duty.
Shit, Jesse’s getting too sentimental. He quickly unbuttons his terrible Hawaiian shirt and chases after Hanzo. He catches him just about waist deep, arms crossed over his chest.
“I didn’t think this through,” Hanzo says. His jaw is tightly clenched. “It’s really cold.”
Jesse laughs at him. It is cold. But he doesn’t mind it. “They say you’re supposed to dunk your head so that you get used to the temperature all at once,” he advises. Hanzo gives him a disdainful look.
“You can go ahead,” he says.
“Okay,” Jesse says, grinning. Hanzo realizes his mistake too late. Jesse sweeps his legs out from under him at the same moment he pushes down on his shoulders. They both go under.
When they re-emerge Hanzo tries to get revenge by throwing himself at Jesse, but Jesse plants his feet and stands strong. He puts his height advantage to good use. They wrestle for a while.
Jesse ends up holding Hanzo against him. His body is warm. One of Jesse’s hands is curled against the delicate curve of Hanzo’s rib cage. Hanzo’s body is lithe and muscular. When he struggles to free himself from Jesse’s grip his abdominals clench and flex.
Don’t be weird about this, he tells himself.
He’s weird about it. He drops Hanzo into the water. Hanzo emerges, sputtering. His high ponytail is drooping. Hairs have escaped and are falling into his eyes. Jesse is weird about his facial structure. About his throat and neck. About his bare chest and his abs and the fact that he’s a virgin.
Hanzo stops trying to wrestle Jesse. They bob quietly in the water for a little while.
“Do you really think I’m awesome?” Hanzo asks.
Jesse is surprised by the question. He must have said that half an hour ago. He’d almost forgotten about it.
The question isn’t shy, the way Hanzo had been about swimming. But it’s blunt in a way that makes him seem vulnerable. He’s standing there, salt water up to his chest, hair a mess, and Jesse just one minute ago was being weird about him.
A virgin, the constant echo, except this time it doesn’t seem so much like a special present just for Jesse. It seems kind of lonely, like an empty bedroom, or a wardrobe that you look at and think ‘he probably doesn’t leave the compound very often.’
“Yeah,” Jesse answers quietly. Hanzo doesn’t smile. He just look at Jesse like he’s trying to figure him out.
Another moment of silence. Then: “I’m cold.”
They slog through the water back to shore. Their shoes and shirts are where they left them. They’re both coated in salt and sand.
“How are we going to find Genji?” Jesse asks.
Hanzo doesn’t have any more idea than he does. They wade through the crowd until they reach the doors. The haven’t seen him anywhere, but every face looks eerily similar in the weird lighting of the artificial stars. They end up exiting the main room just to get away from the music. They’d somehow forgotten how loud and traumatic it was up close.
Genji is leaning against the wall in the antechamber with a small group of people. He looks up at them when they stumble through the doors.
“What happened to you?” he asks. They don’t bother explaining.
“I gotta go home, kid, I gotta go to bed. I’m an old man.” Now that he’s said it, Jesse realizes he’s actually exhausted. He has no idea what time it is.
Genji makes a face. “You didn’t even hang out with me. You just wandered off with him.” He shoots Hanzo a dirty look.
“You told me it was going to be a beach party, not some hellish rave with sand,” Jesse replies evenly. He’s heading for the doors even as Genji argues with him, and Genji is trailing along behind him.
“This isn’t a rave,” Genji sneers. “I could show you a rave, but you’d probably have a heart attack and die.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” Jesse agrees easily. He’s had enough of teen parties.
He notices that just proximity to Genji has transformed Hanzo back into his old, austere self. Turned him back into a pumpkin, as it were. Jesse shouldn’t have kept him out past midnight.
Yuri’s sitting in the town car with the engine off. He’s reading a book. When Genji slides into the seat next to him, they start having a conversation immediately that doesn’t end till they get back to the gates of the Shimada compound.
Hanzo is totally silent the whole ride home. Jesse reads the time on the car dashboard: 1:24 A.M. He leans his head against the window. His hair is stiff with salt. He dreams of showering when he gets home, and actually ends up dozing off.
“You really are an old man,” Genji says as they walk down a garden path together. Genji is slightly ahead, Hanzo is slightly behind. Just like at the club.
The two brothers manage to deliver Jesse safely to the guest house without killing each other. Jesse showers, but he does a bad job of it because he’s so tired. When he flops into bed afterwards, he discovers there’s still a crust of salt behind one of his ears. He falls asleep immediately anyway.
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hamptonbitsch2 · 2 years
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replica handbags 7
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nahoyagf · 3 years
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motivation 
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charcters: mikey x reader x draken | aged up + afab reader
format: fic
warnings: NSFW, threesome, vv slight dub-con, double penetration, belly bulging, manipulation 
other notes: inspired partially by motivation by kelly rowland 
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“pfft! really?” mikey laughed, voice filled with mockery and malice, “he’s never made you come?”
you don’t know how you ended up here. all you had wanted to do was come home after a long date with your boyfriend and then relax with your two roommates. mikey had pushed you into telling him what happened on this “date” after he saw the hickies running up your thighs.
though, as usual, his voice was teasing and full of laughter, mikey was actually pissed. both him and draken had a certain distaste for your boyfriend that you could never explain. first it was that he wasn’t seeing you enough and then it was that he was seeing you too much, they’re reasoning constantly flip flopped and after a while, you just didn’t ask why anymore. 
that brings us to now, as mikey and draken taunt you for picking such a shitty boyfriend. in reality, he’s a very good guy and keeps you out of trouble unlike your two roommates. but it is true that he is terrible at sex. it’s just not his forte. which you’ve told yourself, lied to yourself, is fine and that you aren’t only with him for that.
you’re too caught up in your own thoughts to realize that mikeys pushing you down more into draken’s bed, laying you down. draken, who was previously laying back on his phone, rolls over and hovers over you. both mikey and draken are staring down at you in this very compromising position. and you feel yourself burn with embarrassment.
“c’mon mikey, i’m done with this conversation now. let me get up.”
“no,” mikey whined, voice still underlying a darker tone,”tell us more, y/n. pleaseeeeeee. is his dick small too?”
you’re face lit up red and embarrassed. the way they were teasing almost made it seem as though it was your fault for getting such a disappointing boyfriend.
“tch, it must be, huh?” this time his voice was quieter but a little deeper too. he looked at you with faux sympathy but you took it in a comforting way, happy that they were no longer putting the blame on you.
draken stared down at you with an anger in his eyes that made you shudder. you weren’t understanding how this once carefree and joking conversation turned serious.
“this is the guy you left us for?” draken’s tone dripping with disgust.
“what...what are you talking about?” you were beyond confused now, “leave you?”
“yeah,” mikey joined in, “left us. for this guy. that hurts, y/n, that really hurts.”
you stared at them. totally lost, but in a way you felt bad. you had been spending a lot more time with your boyfriend, you assumed your childhood friends weren’t used to the lack of your attention.
“i’m sorry, guys.”
“ tch,” mikey looked away with a slight pout and pretended to stare at the wall while thinking. in reality, he had come up with this plan for a while. finally getting draken on board only a few hours ago.
“what about this? if we fuck you better than your boyfriend, than you stay with us.” he said, matter of factly.
“but.. but... but... that’s cheating mikey i-“
“he’s been cheating you out of orgasms for a while.” he hummed, moving his head to suck along your neck. purposely covering the marks your boyfriend left.
“c’mon baby,” draken’s raspy voice sent heat through your body, made even worse when he began working on your neck too.
“we’ll make it fair by fucking you one at a time,” mikey cheerfully added, “at first.”
you couldn’t do anything but nod. desire in your bloodstream and too stuck to even think about disagreeing. just don’t think about your boyfriend, you told yourself.
draken sat back on his knees and undid his braid. the two looked like twins. long, blonde hair flowing down to their shoulders and deep, dark eyes filled with lust.
mikey decided he would take his turn first. it was his plan after all.
his fingers made quick work of your sundress and he started rubbing his fingers up and down your skin. feeling the softness of your body and the smooth, taut skin of places like your shoulders.
his hands pulled down your panties, admiring the cute pastel purple fabric that was topped with a white bow. you snapped your head away and covered your face with your hands. that wouldn’t do for when he’s fucking you, but mikey felt merciful enough to let it fly for now.
his hands made way to your bra and before he could snap the clip, you grasped his hands.
“please, just leave that” your voice was so soft and pleading, wanting to keep the one last piece of a boundary. mikey abliged, but only because of your voice.
his dipped his fingers into your cunt, pushing in to find that you’re wet. very wet. he smirks your way and draken’s eyes widen. he assumed that you’d be a good girl and stop yourself from giving in for the sake of your boyfriend. of course, you wanted to but you just couldn’t help it. or so you told yourself.
“you like this, baby?” mikey’s voice was much gruffer than you’ve ever heard before. you could only nod, but the sight made his heart swell, along with his cock.
he stuck his head down, face close enough that you could feel his breath against your dripping cunt. your boyfriend had never gone down on you before. his nose immediately hit your clit which caused you to whimper, and his eyes lit up. he pushed his two fingers all the way in, they were long and fairly thick. combined, they were about the same length and thickness of your boyfriend’s cock. a recognition that filled you with embarrassment.
mikey began making work of you, fingers going at a steady pace but making sure to curl and bend. tongue lapping your juices while his nose bumped and rubbed your clit. it was enough stimulation that you came, quickly and with a series of whimpers and moans that had draken palming his dick.
you were so dazed, you didn’t realize the sound of a zipper and then fabric rustling. mikey still had his baggy pants on but they were pushed down enough to expose his dick. it was long, curved slightly and dripping with precum. you had to admit, though with shame, that is was longer than your boyfriend’s.
he pushed your legs apart and the slight touch of his tip against your clit had you jolting. you were sensitive, and mikey couldn’t help the smirk of joy that came from that.
“mikey,” your voice was a quiet whine, filled with strain, “i’m sore.”
this time, draken leaned over to run his hands up and down your body. pressing kisses on you while rubbing little circles.
“don’t worry, sweetheart. i’ll make you comfortable.” he rasped, eyes meeting yours.
mikey nodded and snickered at his friends softness. gentle giant, i guess you could say.
he pushed the tip it and your eyes widened. as he made his way through, you couldn’t help the sounds that left your mouth. soon to be swallowed by draken’s. mikey finally bottomed out and let out a quiet moan. his hips began making slow and shallow thrusts as he adjusted to the squeeze.
“you’re so,” he panted out, “fucking tight. feels so fuckin’ good, baby.”
he began getting faster, longer strokes with more power. your body shook and draken cooed into your ear. mikey let out whimpers and groans. he couldn’t help it, he had dreamed about this for days. you felt the curved shape of his cock hit the spongy spot deep inside of you and your threw your head back.
“mikey!”
“fuck fuck fuck. baby don’t squeeze like that.”
you couldn’t help the tears that formed near your waterline. cries leaving you. he pushed in harder and faster and the constant rubbing against your g-spot made you come, hard. harder than ever. the intense squeeze had mikey letting out a long whimper and spilling into you. slowly pulling out as you gasped for air.
you were still recovering. eyes low lidded and staring as mikey laid back and watched his cum drip out of you while draken made quick work of his shirt and pulled down his pants. your eyes couldn’t help but widen at the sight of his cock. long, very very long and thicker than you ever thought was possible. your mind joked that he should’ve gotten a horse tattoo instead.
“you ready, princess?”
“it’s not gonna fit,” you said, voice filled with fear.
he chuckled at this and pressed kisses along your neck. his laugh was the most angelic thing you’ve ever heard.
“don’t worry, baby, i’ll make it fit.”
and as promised, he started to make it fit. the stretch burned so much that you started to cry and immediately he paused. wiping your tears. mikey stared at you before making his way behind you, scooching your body until you were halfway on his lap. head resting on his stomach while he held you tight. it was comforting.
draken continued in and groaned about the squeeze. he would’ve asked you to loosen up a little but he didn’t want to put too much pressure on your exhausted state. finally, he bottomed out. filling you in a way that you’d never felt before.
“drakennnnn” you could only moan out his name, and he bent over to kiss your lips.
he moved at a slow pace, pulling your legs over his shoulders and occasionally leaning down to capture your lips. the friction against your g-spot had you cumming lord knows how many times and draken could only continue to push on and on. mikey, was growing antsy. worried that you wouldn’t be able to handle another round.
he threw a telling look at draken and the taller man looked down at you, observing you with concern before sighing and nodding. mikey prodded your body until you sat on his lap, draken still inside of you.
“mikey?” your voice was airy and dazed, “what are you doing?”
he just kissed your jaw before starting to push inside of you as well. you gasped at the penetration. feeling the two of them in you. mikey groaned and whined. almost not making it long enough to fully push in.
“oh fuuuck baby.” he moaned out, blush covering his face and slight drool slipping through his mouth as he came the second he was sheathed in completely. despite being somewhat of a quick shot, mikey had stamina and began fucking his cum up into you.
draken started to move too and the pair found a synchronized slow but deep pace. you looked completely out of it. barely able to keep to your eyes open. you felt so full, you imagined this is what expectant mothers must feel like.
draken leaned down and kissed your lips while mikey left hickeys on your neck. you weren’t sure when your bra had come off but mikey was squeezing your breasts with needy hands. draken stared at your disheveled form and then began to push his large hand against the bulge in your belly. making you cry out.
“see that baby, that’s us. hm? put your hand here, baby, put your hand here.” you had no choice as he dragged your hand to the bulge and pushed harder this time. making both you and mikey cry out.
“oh baby, i don’t think i- ... i don’t think i can hold it in anymore,” mikey cried out and you agreed as you moaned. the two of you came almost at the same time and the squeeze mixed with the filling of mikeys hot cum had draken cumming too. he let out a low raspy groan and kissed your swollen lips.
you finally felt them pull out and slump next to you. your belly felt so hot and full and in the back of the mind, you swore that there was no way you wouldn’t be pregnant now. mikey cuddled up next to you and draken wrapped his large arms around you.
“so.. did we do better?” mikey asked, it was quiet and muffled against your skin. you could only mutter an ‘mhmm’ and drift off into a deep sleep. you’d have to break the news to your boyfriend in the morning.
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ijwrsmff · 3 years
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Hello there
This one is a bit lengthy but can i please get headcanons of the straw hats reaction to an admiral reader(gender neutral please) who quits the marine to join them, and is at first is distrusted but does something to gain theirs trust
I hope it's not too much trouble
It's no trouble at all! I really like this idea, it was a ton of fun to write! I hope you enjoy it ^^
Luffy:
He found you during a fight with the marines
He noticed...you were so much stronger than the marines you were fighting with
Maybe not strong in comparison to Luffy...but he was extremely powerful so comparing to him isn’t fair
He saw you deal what should have been a finishing blow to his crewmates…
But for some reason you never hit them hard enough to kill them
Down them, sure...but never kill
He makes quick work of the other marines, and approaches you with a smile
“Join my crew!”
You looked at him baffled
“Quit the marines and throw away all my hard work to become an admiral because some...kid thinks I would be a good match for his crew? No thanks.”
Luffy left it at that, but knew he’d see you again soon
You encountered him once more at a nearby island
“Is...is that offer still on the table?”
He grinned wide and pulled you by your hand to his ship
He couldn’t put his finger on it...but something was special about you
He just knew the crew would love you
After they get over their initial distrust that is
But Luffy? He trusted you already
No hesitation, he knew you had a good heart and that’s what really mattered
Zoro:
He didn’t trust you...at all
He would go silent when you talked to him, giving you the silent treatment
He didn’t trust the marines...how was he supposed to know you weren’t there as a spy?
You tried to talk to him a couple times...but he just pretended he was sleeping
One day, he was up in the crow’s nest training and you walked in
“Mind if we spar? It’s been a while since I was able to.”
Since you left the marines
He huffed but gave a firm “sure”
He didn’t go easy on you, which surprised him when you handled yourself fairly well
You parried his attacks, and gave a few good jabs of your own
He respected your strength
He still won...but he expected to beat you within seconds
Not minutes, nearly half an hour of sparring
From then on, he’ll make small talk with you
Every once in a while he’ll go to take a nap and he’ll pull you down to lay beside him
He also sits next to you at the dinner table, even helping you fend off Luffy when he tries to steal your food
Overall...he respected strength. And if Luffy chose you...you were here to stay
Once he starts to trust you, he’ll protect you at all costs
Nami:
She trusts Luffy’s decision...but that doesn't mean she has to trust YOU
She won’t go out of her way to be mean...but she won’t help you if it means bending over backwards
She interrogates you, wanting to know why Luffy had chosen you
After days of interrogation on and off...she thinks she sees why
You were unhappy in the marines
Sure...you managed to become an admiral...but the happiness you had hoped to feel just wasn’t there
She discovered that in the short time you’ve been on this ship, you’ve felt happier than you ever did in the marines
She’ll be nicer after that, slowly building up her trust in you
“Want me to show you how I chart the islands we go to?”
Even if cartography wasn’t your thing, you figured it would help get you closer to Nami
After that, you would spend hours upon hours with Nami
She can be very...very protective
So once she trusts you, any comments about you that weren’t warranted she’d defend you
She wants to get closer to you, and spends the majority of her time with you
Either sitting on the deck or working on her maps
She even tells Sanji off if he starts to bother you, making the hearts in his eyes break
She’ll protect you...and she knows in her heart you’d protect her too
Usopp:
He is so...so scared of you at first
You were an ADMIRAL
How could you just give up that position to join a crew?
Doesn’t trust you for a good long while
He’s convinced you’re a spy
He lets his imagination get to him, and that drives a wedge between you two
You don’t blame him...the situation is sketchy, but you were genuine
You would spend all the time needed to get the crew to trust you
After only being with them a short period of time...you trusted them with your life
And that’s never happened before
In the marines...people wouldn’t go out of their way to save another if it meant getting hurt in the process
During battle, you stepped in front of Usopp and took a harsh blow, forming a long slash across your chest
After that...he’s significantly nicer to you
He visits you in the infirmary and looks...troubled
“What’s wrong Usopp?” You give him a concerned look
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you save me...you’re hurt now. Because of me.”
You smiled at him...so he did care
This was a good first step
Maybe eventually you can become even closer
Sanji:
He’s reluctant to trust you at first, but Luffy seems to see something in you…
Just like he saw something in him
So he tries to get closer to you, even going so far as to not flirt with you
Not until he got to know you better
The first time he really began to see the trust between you building was a regular day
Nothing particularly special about it, except you went into the kitchen while he was cooking
“Mind if I help?” It was your attempt to get closer to him
“Of course! Here, I need this mixed.”
You cooked together in relative silence, small talking every once in a while
Overall it was...nice
It was a bonding experience and he cherished it
That day, he sat next to you at the dinner table
You gave him a wide smile, which he returned
He would defend you to anyone who spoke ill of you after that
He could be quite protective, and it showed
Especially to Zoro, who made comments about your being a spy (which only made Usopp and Chopper panic more about the situation)
“Hey marimo! They don’t deserve the bullshit you’re throwing at them. Back off.”
“What are you gonna do about it, shitty cook?” A smirk formed on Zoro’s face
Oh dear...it looks like they’re fighting again
You went to speak up, but Nami stopped you
“They get like this sometimes. Though it’s impressive how quick Sanji was to take the bait this time...I think he likes you.” She gives you a wink and your face flushes
Who knows what the future will bring...all you know? Is that you made the right choice to join this crew
Chopper:
He wants to trust you...he really does
But the nagging fear of you hurting his crew is at the back of him mind
He avoids you, not wanting to risk getting hurt
Once you get injured in battle...he realizes how unfair it was that he did so
“I’m sorry y/n...you’re hurt. Please follow me to the infirmary.”
He keeps it relatively formal, only talking when he needed to do something to check on you
“Would you...come back in a couple days so I can check on the wound and how it’s healing?”
You gave him a smile “yes doctor! Thank you!”
“Hehe you don’t have to thank me I don’t deserve your thanks I was just doing what I’d do for any of our crew!” He swayed back and forth, his paws on his face as he smiled
You could swear you saw flowers around him…
After that, he invited you to play games with him, Usopp, and Luffy
While Usopp was still reluctant, Luffy was 100% on board
“Come on y/n! Play with us!” Chopper smiled up at you and...well...there’s no way you could say no to his adorable face
So you joined in
It was fun...more fun than you thought possible to have
You laughed as Chopper tagged you, and you spun around picking him up in a hug
“Chopper...thank you.”
He smiled and laughed, “for what? Tagging you?”
You shook your head, putting him down
“No...for being a good friend.”
And he was, he was your best friend. You grew closer to him in the days following and you were certain you made the right decision
Robin:
She knows what it’s like to not be trusted by the crew initially...but at least with her it was one pirate to another
You were a marine
And not just a marine...but an admiral
She is reluctant to trust you, but will give you the benefit of the doubt
She spends a lot of time with you, gauging if you’re a threat to her crew or not
She would sacrifice herself for any one of them...you’re no exception
She almost thinks its her JOB to determine if you’re a threat or not
It wasn’t until your first battle together that she finds she trusts you
You give her a look, and she knows to use her devil’s fruit
You both coordinate perfectly together, and it shows your trust
She has only battled so flawlessly with her crew...which means you’re entirely one of them now
She will defend you from that fight forward, and stands up for you when the others express their doubts
“Y/n? Would you like to read with me?” She pats the spot next to her and smiled at you
“Of course! What are we reading today?”
The two of you grow closer and closer, spending hours upon hours just...enjoying each other’s company
She looks at your smile and knows...she would do anything to keep that happy smile on your face
Franky:
He doesn’t trust you...but he doesn’t...NOT trust you
He’s reluctant to get close, but finds it’s really easy with you
He’s newer to the crew, but he trusts Luffy’s judgement
So he doesn’t have any reason not to give you a chance
He’ll spend time with you, requesting you sit in his workroom as he works on a specialized weapon for you
Over that time, you make a lot of small talk
It brings you closer together
“Y/n! What do you think?” He’ll say holding up your now finished weapon “Pretty super, right? Don’t you just love it?” He has a look of pride on his face that makes you grin
You take the weapon into your hands and feel the weight is perfect
Not light, but not overly heavy either
“Thank you Franky!” You jump up to hug him and miss seeing his face turn a dark crimson
“O-of course! Anything for a crewmate!” He hugs you back, lightly as if he’s afraid he’ll break you
This makes you laugh, “Franky...I was an admiral remember? I won’t break from a hug!”
“Well then...take this!” He lifts you up, spinning you around in circles
You both laugh, pulling each other closer and closer
Once he sets you down you see the fleeting color of pink on his cheeks
You were sure your face mirrored the same color
He knows in that moment he would protect you
Even if you didn’t need it
Maybe...protect isn’t the right word
It sounds so...one sided
“I’ll protect you...will you protect me?” He looks sheepish, almost as if he hated asking
You lean up and kiss his cheek
“I’ll protect you Franky. I’ll protect all of us...this crew...it’s special.”
He nods, knowing exactly what you meant
“Then we’ll protect each other.”
And it was settled
Brook:
As soon as you stepped onto the ship he approached you
“Your name is y/n...correct?”
“Yup! That’s me!”
He leaned down so your…”eyes” were level with each other
“Can I see your panties?”
SLAP
“...is that a no?”
It’s safe to assume...he doesn’t judge you for being an admirable
Though seeing some of the crew be distant from you...it only motivates him to speak to you more
You looked tired after playing with the crew on deck, so he approached you
“Would you like me to play you a song to help you sleep?”
You stared wide eyed, not knowing he was the musician on the ship
“Sure! Would you...maybe be able to teach me how to play an instrument?”
“Which instrument would you like to learn?”
You hummed, “I’m not sure. I’ll get back to you on that.”
And so he played you a song
It put not only you, but Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper to sleep
He would have grinned if he could, and looked over his crewmates with love
As he finished the song he looked at you once again
“Sleep well y/n...I’ll see you tomorrow.”
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elftwink · 3 years
Text
no thoughts only taakitz superhero/villain coffeeshop au. taako’s power is shapeshifting but he has a cool gun from lup. kravitz’s power is Big Fuckin Scythe With Unspecified Abilities. also there was no time to get into it but fantasy starbucks isn’t a real starbucks it’s a borderline illegal unaffiliated bootleg starbucks that taako and lup own. like dumb starbucks was.
By all rights, it should have been a fairly routine night for the Reaper. Go out, stop some crimes, arrive just in time to prevent whatever scheme the Mongoose had cooked up this week, exchange some one liners, make some threats that essentially amounted to ‘same time next week?’, the works. A regular Tuesday as a superhero in Neverwinter.
But Kravitz is tired, and more than a little distracted, so he’s not doing so hot on the one liners, and the Mongoose’s attacks are a little closer than they would normally be. He doesn’t even have a good excuse, it’s not like he’s injured, or that he has anything pressing to think of.
It was just— this morning his barista (who he may or may not have been harbouring a small crush on) had mentioned offhand that he thought the Reaper was ‘probably hot under the stupid all-black getup’, and Kravitz didn’t really know what the protocol was for someone complimenting your alter-ego was.
“I think if you were gonna go for the strong silent type, you had to start doing it months ago. Now it’s just acting like an asshole. Are you mad at me?” the Mongoose cuts into his thoughts, firing off another few missiles from his stupid umbrella gun (Umbrastaff, he called it, although it was a gun and not a staff so Kravitz had no idea why he insisted on calling it that).
“We are literally fighting as we speak,” says Kravitz, playing up the cockney accent, spinning his scythe to deflect the missiles off the blade, sending them ricocheting around the room. He’d said something like ‘how can you tell’ to Taako— the barista (well, they’d been on a first name basis for a few weeks, so, Taako), and he’d said ‘I can just tell’ which was not at all helpful in getting Kravitz through the conversation without saying or doing something to give himself away.
He’d almost given Taako his number, but how was he going to justify that? Hey, it’s me under the all black getup. Do you want to go out sometime? As if.
“You can have fights without being fuckin’ rude,” says the Mongoose, firing off another few rounds, which Kravitz deflects again, advancing on him.
“You’re right, sorry. I’m a bit scattered. Not exactly my A game.” As if to prove his point, the Mongoose easily dodges his next couple swings with the scythe, not even bothering to leave his range.
“Clearly. I mean, normally you’re at least close enough that I can feel the breeze from your sword.”
“It’s not a sword, and you know that.” Kravitz brings down the scythe in the space where the Mongoose was only seconds before, having already backflipped out of the way and landed a few metres back. Show off. Not that Kravitz had room to complain about that. The Mongoose spins to face him again, at least this time seemingly aware of what a close call that was. He’s tense, and his hair, which Kravitz supposes has thus far been hidden underneath his costume, has come somewhat unravelled, black braid falling to the middle of his back.
It seems... familiar?
He doesn’t have time for that right now. Kravitz draws back the scythe, feeling the hum of energy under his fingers, swinging again, and—
“Wait! Time out!” the Mongoose puts up a hand and Kravitz, for who knows what reason, stops his scythe mid-swing. The familiarity sticks, so it’s not just a trick of the light. It takes him a second to place, but the hairstyle... it looks a lot like a certain barista he’d been spending all night thinking about.
He shakes his head, trying to clear it. It’s because he has Taako on the brain, is all. Besides, he has other things to worry about besides seeing his crush in his enemy. Namely the fight currently happening with said enemy. “What? You can’t call a time out.”
“I just did,” says the Mongoose, fishing through his pockets and pulling out several bobby pins, sticking them in his mouth so he can use both hands to fix his hair. Kravitz blinks, still trying to shake off the sense of deja vu, but it won’t quit nagging him. “It’s a whole safety issue to leave long hair down.”
“It’s still in a braid,” retorts Kravitz.
“Somebody never took Foodsafe.” the Mongoose gives him a lopsided grin that Kravitz fucking knows he’s seen before, and suddenly it’s more than just passing familiarity, and how could he possibly have not noticed before, and— the Mongoose finishes putting up his hair, raising an eyebrow at Kravitz and his private crisis. “Alright. Ready—”
“You work at Fantasy Starbucks,” blurts Kravitz, without even thinking about it. The Mongoose stops dead in his tracks, and Kravitz can see his eyes widen even behind the mask. He splutters for a moment, and then seems to find his footing, already ready with a snarky remark.
“Yeah, well— your accent is fake.”
Shit. He’d forgotten. At the only time so far that having it would have been useful too. Still, he pushes it out of his mind; the Mongoose hadn’t denied it. And, well, he’s already solidly derailed this fight, so he might as well get some real confirmation out of it.
“...Taako? It is you, isn’t it?”
“Just who the fuck are y—” The Mongoose— Taako— levels the Umbrastaff at him, and then stops again. “...Kravitz?”
Well. Shit. Again. Kravitz doesn’t bother to affirm that; his silence is more than enough confirmation. One of them has to say or do something, but the seconds stretch on.
“You’re telling me I said all that shit to your face this morning?” says Taako.
“That’s what you’re worried about right now?”
“Uh, yeah—” Taako is backing up now, and they’ve fought enough times that Kravitz knows when the Mongoose is looking for an escape route; Kravitz’s feet still feel glued to the floor, even when Taako reaches the window, fingers already turning to talons around the Umbrastaff. Taako breaks the glass (because of course he does, even though the windows aren’t even fucking locked), breaking eye contact with Kravitz in order to swing his legs through the window before his form changes too much. “Look, this is like, a lot right now, and I— I’m getting the fuck out of here,” he says, and then drops. Whatever had been keeping Kravitz in place, slack jawed, ends as soon as Taako leaves his sight, and he’s moving before he has time to think about it.
“Wait—!” Kravitz runs for the window, but by the time he gets there, the bird clutching the Umbrastaff is nearly out of sight.
Well. That could have gone better.
***
Kravitz doesn’t go for his coffee the next day. Or the next day, either, although the day after that he’s sick of making his own coffee. And frankly, he misses chatting with Taako. Even if the guy was trying to kill him like once a week. He couldn’t just avoid this forever.
Still, the fact that Taako is working cash when he comes in makes him want to turn tail and run back home. He conjures up the memory of yesterday’s shitty coffee and pushes onward. The shop is mostly empty still, so there’s no line.
“The usual?” says Taako, like nothing abnormal has happened.
“Please,” says Kravitz, and then, before he can chicken out entirely, adds, “Uhm, do you have a few minutes?”
“My shift isn’t over until—”
“I’ll cover you,” comes Lup’s voice from the back room; she pokes her head out and gives Taako a look that is clearly significant, but that Kravitz can’t quite puzzle out. “Take five minutes after you’re done making his coffee.”
Taako scowls at her, and she smiles brightly before heading to the back again.
“Okay. I guess I have five minutes. Talk to you after I make your coffee.”
Kravitz nods, and goes to hover around the pickup counter, pretending to be interested in things on his phone. Taako makes his coffee in a ceramic mug, which at least means he doesn’t want Kravitz to get the fuck out as soon as possible, so that’s... something.
Taako slides the finished coffee across the counter, circling around to join Kravitz on the customer side as Kravitz grabs the mug.
“Lup!” he hollers, and then starts walking towards one of the corner booths without checking to see if his sister is headed to cash or if Kravitz is following. Kravitz does, though, sliding himself into the seat opposite Taako, hands wrapped tightly around the mug.
Taako speaks first. “To be honest, I kinda thought you would rat me out.”
“That would be shitty of me, to just sic authorities on your place of work without so much as a warning.”
“So is this the warning?”
“No,” says Kravitz, taking a sip of his coffee, “I... can’t really make coffee without burning it. And this is the only place for miles with tolerable muffins.”
Taako cracks a grin, like Kravitz knew he would. “Flattery will get you nowhere.” His smile falls, and he crosses his arms and leans back. “So. Reaper. Why didn’t you rat me out?”
Why indeed. Kravitz takes another sip of his coffee and thinks for a second, not even sure himself what his explanation will be once he starts talking.
“It didn’t seem... fair. You’re less of a villain and more of a pain in my ass—” Kravitz ignores Taako’s indignant noise and keeps talking, “—and while we always have cause to fight when on the clock, you’re not doing anything that I feel needs to leave the bounds of those... work hours, I guess.”
Taako is trying to pick him apart with his gaze; it’s something he’s been subjected to several times, although normally in costume, and in retrospect it’s difficult to imagine how he spent so long not noticing the Mongoose in Taako.
Whatever Taako is looking for, he must find it, because he relaxes a bit, and shoots him a lazy grin. “Plus, Mongoose related insurance just got rolling and it would be fuckin’ rude to take me out of commission before anyone got to use theirs.”
Kravitz laughs. “Sure.” He’s silent for a second, before adding, “You aren’t planning on revealing my secret identity, are you? Awfully rude of you to double cross me like that.”
“Wha— You didn’t even give me a chance to respond! Maybe I wasn’t!”
“Were you?”
“I was,” admits Taako, not even pretending to look sheepish. Kravitz raises his eyebrows, and Taako shrugs. “Oh, like you didn’t think about revealing my secret identity? And could you imagine the hype if I unmasked the Reaper? I was tempted.” He sighs. “But I figured then you’d have no reason to keep my identity a secret. No way am I risking a backfire like that.”
It sounds callous, but Kravitz has been talking to Taako almost daily for months; at this point, he can pretty reliably pick up on when Taako isn’t being entirely truthful about something.
“Hmm. Then I suppose it’d be in my best interest not to tell you that I wouldn’t reveal your identity even if you revealed mine?”
Taako narrows his eyes. “Why not?”
Kravitz makes a face. “It’s just in poor taste. I just think we all go through all the trouble to hide who we are and use these powers for good— or whatever it is you do— that it’s always going to be such a low blow to reveal who we are. There might be times where it’s necessary, but petty revenge is not one of them.”
Taako’s expression hasn’t changed; if anything, he’s narrowed his eyes more. “God, you are like— fuckin’ irritatingly nice. Fine. I wasn’t going to reveal your identity. That would be fuckin’ annoying to deal with. Plus I’m having fun.”
“Fun?”
“Oh don’t— don’t fucking lie to me. I know you’re having fun out there too. With your stupid accent and one liners and shit.”
“Alright, alright,” says Kravitz, rolling his eyes. “But I’m not supposed to be having fun, so keep it quiet.”
“See, that’s why I market myself as a villain. No dumb rules.” He puts an elbow on the table and leans on his hand. “Why do you have a fake accent anyway?”
Heat rises to Kravitz’s face, and he’s hoping he looks less embarrassed than he feels. “It’s my— I do it so people don’t recognize my voice.”
Taako laughs. “Well, it doesn’t really do that if you immediately stop using it when you realize you might know someone.”
“I was caught off guard!” defends Kravitz. “It’s not every day you find out your nemesis is your barista.”
“Nemesis, huh?” Taako grins. “Didn’t realize it was that serious to you. You know I have other heroes to fight.”
Kravitz rolls his eyes again. “I don’t see how you have the time, considering how often you’re causing trouble for me.”
Taako laughs, and it’s so contagious and the whole conversation is so surreal Kravitz can’t help but laugh too, before they both lapse into a comfortable, if drawn out, silence.
“So, uh,” says Taako eventually, “what now?”
“Well,” says Kravitz, “I want to keep coming in for coffee in the mornings. And I assume the Mongoose will continue with... whatever chaos it is you currently have planned.”
“It’s not chaos,” insists Taako, “I have plans. But yeah. And I assume the Reaper is gonna show up and throw a wrench in those plans?”
“Yes, probably. So we’ll just be enemies by night...” Kravitz trails off, not entirely sure how to refer to their by day relationship. Friends? Potential love interests? Acquaintances? There’s a few seconds of awkward silence before Kravitz gives up entirely.
Taako pulls and pen and a napkin out of his pocket, jotting something down and pushing it towards Kravitz.
“Here’s, uh, here’s my number. If you give me a heads up five minutes before you get here, we can have your coffee ready by the time you walk in. If you’re nice to me out there.”
“I don’t take bribes,” says Kravitz, grabbing the napkin and pulling out his phone to type in the number.
“That wasn’t a bribe, it was a threat. You don’t even wanna know what I’ll do to your coffee if you fuck me up.”
Kravitz doesn’t bother to point out that neither of them have ever caused any extreme bodily harm to one another and instead says, “So you’re asking me to go easy on you? I thought you were having fun.” He sends Taako a ‘hey it’s kravitz’ text before he has time to second guess himself.
“Could you stop poking holes in my threats? You’re harshing my fuckin’ vibe, Krav.” He sounds irritated, but Kravitz can see the smile tugging at his lips as he texts Kravitz a couple of skull emojis. “I should get back to work before my sister kicks my ass,” he says, standing back up. “I’ll see you tonight, nemesis.” Then he turns on his heels and heads back to the counter, saying something to Lup as he walks by. Kravitz watches him disappear into the back room.
Tonight.
Kravitz had better make sure he had hung his cloak up to dry.
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cinnamonest · 3 years
Text
Diluc Ragnvindr - Yandere Profile
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Yall are so kind and I am so undeserving hhhhh
If you stand idly by that flower girl in Mondstadt her idle line is something like "All I can think about is Diluc" And honestly same
This man exudes bde I'm sorry I just... It is a known FACT that Diluc is packing and I refuse to believe otherwise, lord have mercy I'm bout to SIMP
tws: yandere, mentions of violence
tws (below cut): noncon, kinda misogynistic in 1 part
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What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?
Acutely aware, and in the beginning, frustrated with his own self. He's very much a loner type of guy, and he likes it that way -- in his mind, people are distractions.
He doesn't talk to you too much, but you'll slowly and subtly notice his presence with increasing frequency. He hovers. Silent, but intimidating. He's always there, in the background. Somehow, everywhere you go, you can spot him somewhere if you try, and even if you don't see him, you know someone is watching you, from the skin crawling feeling of eyes on you. It will never go away, and it's easily enough to drive you to paranoia.
In reality, he'd like to talk, really, but he doesn't know how. For the first time in his life, he actually has the urge to speak with someone, not for his own desire to speak so much as speak with you- to learn about you, to hear your voice. But the poor thing has no idea what to say. He's used to just going about his day and only speaking to others when they need something from him.
When he does talk to you, he finds himself even enjoying the silliest and most trivial of things you say. Normally he hates small talk, and he's normally annoyed by anything outside of very serious matters, but even if you're raving about something he has no interest in, he's happy to listen just because it's you.
He's fairly aware, too. Not a delusional for the most part, and he's honestly a bit afraid of rejection - he knows he's not the most pleasant or charming person to be around, and certainly not the best conversationalist. He tries to make up for it in thinking that his money, status, and protective ability can be something he can use to draw you in, so he makes sure to subtly and frequently remind you of those things.
How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?
Eventually, it's inevitable. It will happen, it's just a matter of time. His reasoning is less about your fragility and safety, even if he pretends it is, and more of a selfish thing. He doesn't want to be, and he'll certainly feel guilty for it, but he's a silently jealous person. Hearing you talk to others, seeing you smile at others, it drives him up the wall. Even during the day, he can't focus, thinking of what you're doing, who you're with, what you're doing with that person, and so on. He can't get anything accomplished, and people notice something is wrong with him. Really, it won't be a very long time at all.
He's not a very good manipulator, and he can't really think of a good reason to get you to walk into the winery backrooms on your own, so as barbaric as it may feel, he'll settle for the old fashioned way, just taking you, probably when you're walking all by yourself late at night. He is very intelligent, and will most likely formulate a way of making you seen responsible for some crime upon your disappearance, to discourage you from leaving, and to make it seem less mysterious when you disappear. People will assume that the darknight hero got to you. And, well, they’re not wrong.
How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 
Initially, he's watchful, staying at the winery so that you can't get far without him noticing. He'll cancel his plans elsewhere and make sure he's never more than sight distance away from the building. With time, he'll have to leave, and when he does, he'll probably invest in some very high quality locks to keep you in. Should that prove to not be enough, he'll have to use chains to keep you attached to the wall, instead. Needless to say, it's difficult.
If you manage an attempt, he'll be angry, sure, but he understands why. The first time, at least. Don't push it. If you manage to keep trying, his sympathy for you will slowly erode with each successive attempt, and soon he'll run out of mercy, and decide maybe just forgiving you isn't enough, and you actually need to learn a lesson to prevent this from happening again.
"Again? You really... Really don't give up, do you. This is the fourth time now... You've really pushed it, you know, I've tried to be nice. If you're not gonna get that, I'll make you understand."
How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?
Canonically speaking, he's fairly good at predicting the actions of others. He's clever like that. However, he's not the best at reading faces. As far as lies go, he will detect it maybe 80% of the time, but you can probably get away with a bit - once he catches you doing it once, though, he'll suspect you from there on out, and be much less likely to buy your lies.
When it comes to manipulation, he's one of the ones where it's like, he kinda knows, and lets it happen anyway, if it's for the sake of you being happy with him. That, and he's just flat out weak to your smiles and begging for little things. He's got his limits, though, so you'd be wise to only use this sparingly and not push it.
How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?
Protective to the maximum degree. Probably the worst of genshin boys.
Absolutely zero contact with the outside. No family, no friends, he might even go to the extent of faking your death to ensure there's not even anyone who will look for you.
Unlike Childe, Zhongli, or Albedo that I've mentioned as allowing you for walks or outside visits... That's not happening with Diluc. No, he's insanely protective, to the point that you very well might not see sunlight again, except through a window.
And he gets that it can get depressing, he really does, it's just the one thing he can't do. He'll try to substitute it, get you nice large windows to let the sun in that you can sit in front of - provided he's there - and maybe after a while build a little screened-in porch for the winery that you can walk around on - again, provided he's right there. You really can't expect him to let you out there when you're alone. What if someone saw you and tried to hurt you?
You get the feeling it's less about keeping anything else out, and more about keeping you in, though.
He's actually good about letting you do things for yourself, though. He won't restrain you from cooking or kitchen utensils or anything like that, unless you do something stupid like try to hurt him or yourself, in which case it'll be a revoked privilege.
What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?
Initially, he tries to go easy on rules, as part of his attempt to make you more accepting. He'll keep you more restrained for the first little while, and later on you'll be allowed to walk, but certain sections of the building will be off limits. He's fairly simple - be obedient, stay inside, don't try to fight. He'll invent new ones based on your behaviors as time goes on, but for the most part, he doesn't want to control you too much.
He fears getting too mad and making you scared of him, so, he struggles to punish you initially. He's probably willing to let quite a bit slide, but once he senses you're taking advantage of that, he'll put an end to it. Once again, he can thank the fact that he's naturally intimidating - he'll grab your jaw and force you to look at him, and honestly, just the look on his face is enough to send chills down your spine. If you're persistent, he's not able to leave you all alone and isolate you, no, he can't handle being away from you for that long. He'll appeal to the punishment of boredom, tying you to one spot and giving you nothing to entertain yourself with will get you to crack in a fairly short amount of time.
Humiliation works well, too. You're all alone except for him, you don't need clothes. So if you want them, you'll have to behave.
How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?
This man only has to look at people to send them running. He's very grateful for his scowl once he realizes the power it holds. You'll be none the wiser as to why everyone you meet seems to end up avoiding you, why people get nervous when you approach, why you can walk into a public place and it will clear out within minutes of you walking through the door. It's ok, though, since you have him to go to for your problems. He'll shrug and tell you he doesn't know why it happens to you, but it's no big deal, you don't have to worry about it, because you don't need them anyway, right?
He's not above having chats with people either. If they're not driven off by the glares, he'll give them another chance by spelling out very clearly that they should back off.
With persistent offenders, though, he has to come up with other means. He's not a delusional, and he knows deep down that this is selfish, that they're not really doing anything wrong per se, but his anger is violent and ultimately overrides any guilt. He'll find a way to make them out to be criminals, spies, or some other form of bad person, and they'll meet their fate at the hands of Mondstadt's mysterious nighttime vigilante.
How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?
His default personality is... Irritated. He scowls a lot, he gets exasperated easy - even if he tries to be a bit more pleasant for you. His irritation is so common that seeing genuine anger is a bit rarer.
When he does, though, it's one of the worst. To really, really make him mad, you'd have to be exceptionally, intentionally bratty to the point of antagonism - he's understanding and lucid enough to understand why you fight him, why you try to run, but do it over and over relentlessly, or just be a childish brat and ignore his warnings, and he'll snap. His voice bellows when he's mad, it's deep and terrifying and echoes off the walls, his eyes narrow and he stomps heavily with every step. He'll grab you by the arm hard enough to bruise, and if you refuse to follow and dig your heels in, he'll just roughly swing you onto his shoulder and carry you.
He has to exert the anger in some way, though. He's not like some yanderes that can be talked down or calmed, or are going to go easy on you if you apologize and beg. Once the anger is there, it's there until he physically takes it out in some way.
So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?
It depends, really, because he's highly lucid, so he has very little delusions about you. Unlike many of the others, he's willing to acknowledge your mental competence, and if you're intelligent and have life experience he'll acknowledge it. He won't recognize physical capability, though, since you're nothing compared to his strength. If you are a capable, independent person, he won't delude himself into thinking otherwise. It will, however, have a negative effect, probably the opposite of what you hope for - he's going to feel a bit intimidated by it, really, because if you're capable and independent, you don't need him as much. He's more likely to find ways to force your dependency on him, if so, but deep down he knows you're an equal on a mental level, and it's frustrating.
Now, otherwise - if you're a little more on the ditzy, airheaded side - it will be below. He's realistic, again, and if you genuinely do fall into the category of being naive and a bit dumb, he'll recognize it. He feels more secure in your dependency, and he's more likely to baby you this way, and will absolutely be more protective.
How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?
He really wants you to. He's not sure if he deserves it, though. He's acutely, painfully aware of how awful the things he's done are, and to top it all off, he knows that he should wish he was a better man that had self control, yet... He doesn't. He can't lie to himself and pretend to even have a shred of regret, even if he feels guilt. If he hadn't done all those things, you wouldn't be here with him like this, and even though he knows it's selfish, so very, very selfish, knowing that the horrible things he did got him the result he wanted makes it worth it. And given the opportunity to go back, he'd do it again.
He wants you to genuinely love him, and even though he struggles with human affection and communication, he'll try his best to be sweet to you, say nice things, try to be less irritable, try to talk more.
But if dependency, isolation-induced attachment love is the best he can get, well, that's still love.
Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?
He likes to just... Spend time in your presence. He's still ultimately not much for talking, he runs out of things to say very quickly and even if you're not talking, he's very very happy to be around you. If you're being cold towards him even, he wants to just sit there and be beside you, if you get up and sit on the other side of the room, or walk to another room (provided you have the privilege to do so), he'll follow you wherever like a little lost puppy and just silently sit right back down next to you again. He soaks in your presence like sunlight, it makes him happy.
If you show him affection, especially after an abduction or when stockholm syndrome starts to set in, it's one of the few times you'll see him smile. His smile is soft and faint, and it's less his mouth so much as his eyes that seem to light up. If you show him affection, you can eventually reach a very vulnerable, very soft side of him. He keeps up walls for everyone else, and he kind of desperately wants someone he doesn't have to do that with, so he'll crumble to your affection fairly quickly, once he's assured of your love.
Also, he's one of the ones who fully understands why you're mad. He gets it, he's lucid, and he honestly knows how awful what he's doing is. He still hopes you'll get over it, though, and if confinement and isolation except for him is what it takes to achieve that... So be it. Rather than justifying his actions, he acknowledges what he's done, but he's aware that psychologically, he's already long past the point of no return, and he can't bring himself to stop.
“I know this wasn’t... what you wanted, and, I know it’s, I know this was really, really bad, but I only did it for your sake. If you just... try to get used to it... maybe you can be happy, if you try.”
General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?
High, but embarrassed as all hell. He likes to maintain a very respectable and serious image, and people knowing that behind that neutral poker face is a brain running through nasty, nasty fantasies would not be very conductive to that image.
And that's what he does - working the bar gets very, very slow sometimes, and there's not much to do but sit around and let his mind wander. The more bored he gets, the more involved in these fantasies he becomes, and sometimes you might have to tap him on the shoulder to snap him out of it.
He feels guilty, really, for how he feels about you, and he knows that it's wrong and violating... But. But if you don't know, it won't hurt you, now will it? Nothing about the fact that he just thinks about bending you over the bar tables and fucking you raw is going to actually do anything bad. It's harmless.
He won't be touchy or perverse towards you by any means, and while that's nice, it causes something of a... Buildup. A lot of urges and needs have gone unmet, a lot of desperation to just feel you skin that has never been filled, and the thing about buildups is that when you reach a certain point they'll eventually burst, which is going to be what happens once you're in your new home.
How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?
He's moderate. He'd like you to want it, he's not highly sadistic and doesn't get off to your struggling/crying the way Childe or Kaeya would. But, in the end he's very set on what he wants, and if you're not open to it, he's not going to wait long. As aforementioned, he's got a lot of pent-up need that has gone unchecked, and while he normally strives for self control, at the point of kidnapping you, he's built up enough sexual frustration that he's not going to be very patient. Again, he's not going to be mean about it, he's more the type to just kiss your forehead and mutter a few reassuring things, even as you hiss at the pain of being impaled. That's another issue - he's convinced you might just be intimidated by the size, so he'll keep reassuring you that it's not going to last long, your body just needs time to adjust, even though you feel like you're being split in two.
He's content with knowing that, even if you mentally aren't wanting it, your bodily reactions show that you're clearly not repulsed or anything.
He's also another one to use that very thing against you, much like Albedo. He can feel you twitch and clamp down when you're close and he'll tell you that if you love him you'll cum, and if you don't love him, you won't. But no amount of trying to bring yourself down is enough to override the overwhelming stimulation.
He's also one to get rougher/more intense with time. At first, he's a bit afraid of hurting you, and he's not entirely familiar with how this all goes, and even can be a bit prudish and reserved. But the more he fucks you, the more and more he realizes he really likes having a sense of control and dominance over you, and just how nice it feels to come home when he's frustrated from a bad day and just fuck that energy out. Once he realizes you're not going to break or anything, you'll notice him gradually getting rougher and harder with time, until it becomes a norm.
What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?
Stomach bulging/size kink
He's not normally an outwardly prideful person. His pride is more of a silent aloof type of pride, rather than a smug showoff type. He's not one to emphasize his positive traits just to look good. But, fuck, if there isn't something very, very pleasing about being able to physically see his dick making a bulge on your stomach every time he fucks into you. He'll make sure you don't close your eyes, grab your hair and pull your head down so you're forced to watch it fill you more than you can take, over and over.
He doesn't want to hurt you, really, but of all the things to whimper about, you just had to squeal that it's too big, that it hits your cervix, that it's splitting you apart, and as much as he really wants to be a good guy, you're really making it difficult. Hearing that just breaks something primal in him and makes him want to fuck you harder.
It's one of the few things he can actually get smug about, watching you clutch your gut and whimper from bruising and soreness even long after, and as time goes on he might lose enough shame about it all to make a smug comment. He knows he should feel bad. But again, you make it hard to.
Breeding
It's a possession thing, really. There's something so utterly satisfying about just watching cum drip out of you, listening to you whimper whenever you feel it filling you up. It's kind of cute, when he tells you he'll cum inside you and you panic, you squeal and wriggle and unintentionally clench down hard enough to make that happen, you practically just milk the cum out of him when you do.
Forced feminization?/housewife kink/I dont know what to call it but hear me out dammit
He has in his brain this idea of a perfect little housewife and you're going to fit that model whether you want to or not. When he breaks into goes back to your old apartment to bring clothes for your new home he'll only pick the most frilly, feminine of all the things you owned, and if you don't have too many, he'll buy ones for you.
He just likes the idea of having a nice, sweet little wife to come back to, especially after being so stressed with whatever bullshit he's had to put up with that day. Really, any darling in captivity is kinda sorta filling that role, but he's got a very specific image in his mind of you being very... Domestic. Submissive. Frilly little clothes and aprons and cleaning things and making food, it's very cute and gives him a weird sense of dominance that will inevitably turn to arousal - something about the whole ownership and submission aspect of seeing you walk around in those clothes, doing your little chores makes him really want to grab you and bend you over the nearest surface and just - well, you get the idea.
And he's not gonna listen to your whining, either, even if you're a naturally tomboyish person. You could have been the roughest adventurer there was out there, all ragged and getting covered in scrapes and climbing mountains and fighting monsters, but that's in the past, now. Now, is time for you to give that lifestyle up, in favor of a better one, one that will make you happier... if you just let it. 
How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?
He's yes and no, but mostly yes in theory. It fits into his little housewife fantasy and he feels it would be a good way to keep you attached to him. It would make you less likely to leave, it would give you something to do all day, you'd be happy. He's a bit worried about his own capabilities, though. He's not super empathetic and he's not very talkative. Ultimately, it would probably end up an accident that results from the aforementioned breeding kink.
What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?
Another one kind of like Razor, he's not gonna think it out too much, but holy fuck, if he's mad, just fucking feels like a punishment in and of itself. You'll realize just how much he's holding back on the regular when you see what it's like when he hold nothing back. It's bruising, it's brutal, and it's a little frightening to witness that kind of raw strength. He'd be one to pick you up into the air completely, holding your whole body up with his arms, forcing you to cling to him so as to not fall while he bounces you up and down on him. And really, once you account for the affect of gravity, so it's slamming into you at unprecedented force, and fuck, it's likely horribly painful, even if that pleasure is still there.
If he's exceptionally mad, he's another one willing to belt you, and while he'll certainly get off to it, it's something he'll only do when he genuinely has a reason to punish you.
What body parts of their darling do they like the most?
Thighs. He likes hooking them over his shoulders, grabbing the fleshy soft parts with his hands, running his hands up and down the sides. One day, one you're comfortable enough, he'd really like to just lay his head down on them like a pillow, they look so soft. And he loves looking at them too, loves things that show just enough of the curve of your hips to your legs and the soft skin underneath.
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drabbles-mc · 3 years
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Date Night
Angel Reyes x F!Reader
Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol
Word Count: 2.6k
A/N: I wrote this fic when my boyfriend and I were on a big Warzone kick so be warned that a majority of this story uses that as the base of it haha. This one-shot got away from me pretty quickly, and I’ve been super hesitant to post it (it’s literally been sitting in my ‘finished’ folder for months without me posting it because ~anxiety~) But I figured it’s not doing any good sitting unpublished. I know I haven’t really been creating a whole lot of Mayans content lately, but hoping to get back into the swing of it soon! xo
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You were sat on the couch in your apartment, headset on as you started another round of Warzone with Angel, EZ, and Coco. The four of you tried to band together at least twice a week when their lives would allow for it, all playing from your respective apartments. Coco heard you mention something off-hand about Call of Duty one night and he didn’t let it go, and somehow that evolved into the four of you running quads together in your free time. Coco and Angel were always getting intermittently suspended from the game for the things that they said when they were winning, and you and EZ found it endlessly entertaining.
“Thought you weren’t going to be on tonight, Y/N,” Angel commented as the two of you waited for EZ and Coco to get back to their headsets, each of them having gotten up to grab drinks.
You tried not to sigh, “Didn’t think I was. Plans got cancelled so I got some unexpected free time.”
“Glad we’re your second choice,” EZ’s voice founds its way over the stream with a chuckle.
“Second place ain’t that bad, EZ,” you laughed, “Don’t bitch about it.”
“Homeboy bailed again, didn’t he?” Angel asked, already fairly certain of the answer.
“Yuup,” you stretched the word out, letting your annoyance shine through, “Fuck it. Doesn’t matter,” you paused, “How long does it take for Coco to grab a fuckin’ beer?”
“Ay, I’m here,” he spoke up, finally, “Let’s run it.”
Considering the fact that the four of you were constantly talking amongst yourselves about things that had nothing to do with the game, you did pretty well as a team. You’d get a few wins together every week, and of course one of them was always trying to take all the credit. It didn’t matter enough for you to get involved, so you let them argue it out amongst themselves.
“Fuck!” Coco groaned, “Team on me. I’m down.”
You laughed, “Damn, hope you’re a better sniper in real life or Angel and EZ are screwed.”
“Shut the fuck up,” he shot back at you with a laugh.
“EZ how do you always end up in a completely different part of the map?” you chuckled, “We can’t revive you if we don’t know where the fuck you are.”
“When have I ever needed you guys to revive me?”
“This motherfucker,” Angel mumbled under his breath, trying not to sound as amused as he was.
“It doesn’t bother your man that you’re spending your night with three dudes who are, objectively, way better than he is?” Angel asked with a laugh as he trailed you in the game.
You shook your head, glad that he couldn’t see the smile on your face, “Your humility never ceases to amaze me, Angel.”
“Didn’t answer the question, Y/N,” EZ piped up.
“You guys trying to hold an intervention right now or something? Fuck,” you laughed.
“You think you need one, querida?” Angel’s tone was baiting, and you were trying not to feed into it.
Luckily, before he could keep pressing you about it, the two of you started getting lit up by another team in the game. Normally it would’ve been frustrating but you were glad to have the distraction. It was bad enough that Angel was always looking for any excuse to give you grief about your boyfriend, but you had to admit that your boyfriend gave Angel decent amounts of metaphorical ammo to use against him. You hated conceding to that, though, so the onslaught of players coming after you was a welcome distraction.
You managed to get out of it unscathed, but Angel wasn’t so lucky. You chuckled, “Have fun in the gulag, sucker.”
“We’re on the same team, you know,” he laughed.
“Not when you’re talking all that shit, we aren’t.”
“You’d still buy me back though, right?”
You scoffed, “Nah if I’m gonna drop four grand it’ll be on Coco.”
“Damn straight,” Coco’s laugh rang through the chat.
“Seriously where the fuck is EZ?” you shook your head as you sprinted across the map.
“Safe and sound unlike you fools,” he chuckled.
“Can you stop camping and come drop me some ammo?” you couldn’t hold your laughter in, completely undoing any work you had been putting in to sound annoyed.
Despite all the shit the four of you talked, you managed to clutch a win at the end of it with EZ and Coco. Angel was pouting over not being bought back, but you were a woman of your word and when you were able to Coco was the first player you brought back into the game. The four of you stayed on for a little bit in the lobby, just talking amongst yourselves before EZ and Coco got ready to sign off.
“Tell your man we said wassup,” Coco snickered.
You sighed and rolled your eyes, “Goodbye, Coco.”
“You two gonna play nice if I leave?” the smugness in EZ’s voice was palpable.
“No promises,” you laugh.
“Beat it, Boy Scout,” you could hear the smile in Angel’s voice, “Go clean your one set of silverware or something.”
“I have at least three sets now, but fine,” with one last laugh he left the lobby, leaving just you and Angel behind.
“Wanna run another one?” you chuckled, “Promise I’ll buy you back this time.”
“Fuckin’ liar,” he laughed, “But fine.”
It was silent between the two of you for a few minutes and it was almost eerie, solely because Angel was notorious for never keeping his mouth shut. A couple times you wanted to point it out, but something in the game would always distract you and you never quite got around to it.
“Boy Wonder still not home?” Angel asked.
“Something tells me that I’m flying solo tonight,” you paused, letting a half-hearted laugh fall from your lips, “Besides you, of course.”
“Of course,” he chuckled but you could tell that there was something more behind it.
“Whatchu thinking, Angelito? Hm?” you tried to coax it out of him.
“What kind of fuckin’ idiot,” he paused as he reloaded his gun, the brief pause making your stomach knot slightly, “doesn’t use dead silence? I hear your heavy feet from miles away, querida.”
You huff, knowing that he was deflecting, “That’s what’s weighing on you, Angel? Really?” your fingers nervously drummed against the back of your controller.
“Speaking of idiots,” he continued, and you wished that you could see his face, “what the fuck is your man doing ditching you again?”
There it is.
You let out a sigh that shifts into a hollow laugh, “Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Never thought to ask?”
You scoff, “You know, it actually never crossed my mind. Blowing my whole world wide open tonight.”
“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, “Clearly a touchy topic.”
“I don’t even know if I want the fucking answer, at this point,” you shake your head as the two of you slowly but surely make your way towards the safe zone of the map, “I don’t want another bullshit excuse.”
“Why do you even bother sticking around, then?”
“I dunno,” you chuckle quietly, “Why do you still pick up the AK when you could grab the M13? Sometimes people just do dumb shit.”
“I’m nasty with the AK and you know it,” he laughed. There were a few beats of silence as the two of you battled it out in the game, covering each other before Angel continued, “I’m just sayin’, you should not be spending your date night playing fuckin’ Warzone with me.”
“My company that bad, Angel?”
“You know that ain’t what this is about.”
You sighed, “I know. It’s just—fuck!” you laughed and let your controller drop into your lap, “I’m down. Fuck.”
“C’mon, gotta keep your head in the game,” he laughed.
“You don’t get to grill me on my relationship and then give me shit for being distracted.”
“Wanna back out?”
You nodded before you remembered that he couldn’t see you, “Uh, yea sure. I’m tapped out for the night, I think.”
Both of you backed out of the match but you stayed on the line with each other. The silence that filled the space between you almost felt heavy. Part of you felt like you should be saying something but you didn’t quite know what.
“Wanna come over?” you didn’t know what possessed you to say that, especially given how late it was, but it was out there now and you couldn’t take it back.
“Now?” he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t surprised.
“I mean…yea?”
There was a pause before he laughed, “Fuck it, why not? I’ll be there in fifteen.”
“Real fifteen, or Angel fifteen?”
You could easily picture him shaking his head at you, “Real fifteen.”
True to his word, fifteen minutes later you heard a knock at your door. You let him in and for some reason, things felt just a little bit different. It wasn’t anything that either of you said or did, but there was definitely a shift. You grabbed a couple beers for each of you before plopping down on the couch next to him.
The two of you got wrapped up in conversation, bantering back and forth about one thing then another. It was the hardest that you’d laughed in a long time and you had to admit that you needed it. Not that you didn’t love shooting back and forth with him and the guys, but there was definitely something different about sitting on the couch together and joking around as opposed to doing it over a headset from your separate living rooms.
At one point he bet you that you couldn’t win a round without your headset on. You were fairly certain that he was right, but once he made a bet out of it you needed to prove him wrong. Loading the game and taking a long drink from your next beer bottle, you got ready to hopefully make yourself twenty bucks richer.
It was about as futile as you’d assumed it would be, but the commentary from Angel made the repeated defeats worth it. The two of you were shoulder to shoulder on the couch, Angel doing everything except reaching over and snatching the controller from you in an attempt to throw you off. You playfully nudged him to try and put some distance between you as you played. Both of you were erupting with laughter when you heard a key turn in the lock of your door.
Both of you paused and looked over as your boyfriend walked in. Despite the fact that neither you nor Angel were doing anything wrong, you still felt like you were supposed to be explaining yourself. He only looked at you for a moment before his eyes locked onto Angel’s. The two of them had only met briefly on a few occasions—he never really hung out with the guys from the MC.
“Sorry. Didn’t know you had company,” he was still looking at Angel rather than you.
“Uh, yea,” you closed out of the game and leaned back on the couch, “Kind of a last-minute thing.”
“If you’re busy, I can leave,” his eyes darted back and forth between you and Angel.
“She shoulda been busy a few fuckin’ hours ago, bro,” Angel spoke up before he could stop himself.
“What?” his tone had more bite to it than you were used to.
“Angel, don’t,” you kept your voice quiet.
“No, let him say what he’s gotta say,” you could tell by the way your boyfriend shifted his weight that he was going to turn this into more than it needed to be.
“I’m just saying,” Angel shook his head slightly, “Me and my boys have spent more time with your girl on your date nights than you have lately,” he sucked his teeth, “No reason that she should be stuck playing fuckin’ Warzone with us jokers when you’re supposed to be taking her to dinner and a movie or some shit.”
“Fuck,” you whispered as you ran your hands down your face.
He stepped forward towards the couch, “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Angel stood up off the sofa, effectively dwarfing your boyfriend without even having to try, “Who the fuck are you?”
Your boyfriend looked over to you, “Y/N, why do you le—”
“Nah, nah,” Angel shook his head, “This is between us now,” he motioned back and forth between them, “Say what you gotta say.”
“What gives you the right to come in here and tell me what to do with my relationship? Don’t you got biker shit you should be doing?”
“What do you think I’m doin’ right now?” there was a cocky smirk on Angel’s face as he spoke and you knew that you shouldn’t have found it as amusing as you did.
You must’ve been worse at hiding your amusement than you thought, because when your boyfriend looked over at you, anger instantly took over his features, “This shit funny to you, Y/N?”
All of the care in you disappeared, “I mean,” you sighed and shrugged, “honestly? A little bit.”
He scoffed, “You know what? I don’t fucking need this,” he shook his head, “I’m not gonna stay here and just be disrespected. I’m fucking, I’m done. I’m out.”
You knew that you should’ve felt something, but you just didn’t. You didn’t even bother to get up off the couch, “Leave your key on the way out, then.”
Both he and Angel looked at you with surprised expressions on their faces. Your boyfriend shook his head slightly in disbelief, “Wh-what?”
“If you’re done,” you leaned forward, elbows resting on your knees, “then leave your key to my place. I don’t want my ex to be able to get into my place whenever he wants.”
He sputtered a few fractions of words before tossing the key onto the table and turning to head out. He slammed the door behind him and Angel looked back to you, shock written all over his face. A smile crept across his lips and he shook his head at you.
“That was fuckin’ cold.”
You chuckled, shrugging, “Was a long time coming though, right?”
“I mean, yea, but still,” he paused, really looking at you, “You good?”
You nodded, “Right now? Yea. Maybe it’ll hit me tomorrow or something. Or maybe it won’t,” you had to laugh.
“Sorry I kinda brought this on,” you could tell by the look in his eyes that the apology was genuine.
You shrugged, “You and your big fuckin’ mouth certainly didn’t help,” you chuckled, “But none of that was on you.”
“You wanna talk abou—"
“No,” you cut him off with a shake of your head, “C’mon,” you motioned for him to sit down next to you again, “Time for you to lose without a headset on.”
He laughed as he sat next to you, “I ain’t gonna lose.”
You smiled, shaking your head as he took the controller in his hands. Without thinking much of it, you found yourself settling against his side. He froze up for a moment before reaching around you, lightly wrapping you up as he held the controller in his hands. Neither of you said anything about it for a few minutes while he got himself set up.
You chuckled as you watched him loot for weapons, “Still gonna use the goddamn AK?”
“The gun isn’t what’s gonna make me lose, querida,” he chuckled as he chanced a glance down at you cozied up against his side.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you smiled up at him knowingly.
He chuckled, shaking his head, “Nothin’, nothin’.”
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Tainted : Part One
Pairing  ::  Steve Rogers x  fem!Reader
Warnings  ::  Smut, Masturbation(M), Invasion of Privacy?(it’s an imitate moment walked in on) 
Word Count  ::  2,090
Summary  ::  Everyone teased Steve for being “a boy scout”, but you find out he’s not so innocent after all.
A/N  ::  Takes place before Civil War.....there’s probably gonna be a part two... i don’t know when... most likely soon... I must be cleansed.... 
Part Two
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Steve Rogers, aka, Captain America. To the public, he was perfect in every way. He was strong, kind, never swore, and always did what was morally right. Everyone loved him, how could they not? Especially when he smiled with his perfect pearly white teeth. 
What mattered most though was the fact he was a damn good soldier. On missions he did everything by the books, doing his best to fulfill the mission without a problem. Even when things did start to go wrong, he never crossed the line.
You, on the other hand, got the mission done, to say the least. You did what you felt was efficient and got the job done without a hassle, even if it meant throwing a few guys out a window. 
-
Thanks to a certain incident, you and Steve were paired together for your latest mission. The two of you had to sneak into the dictator of Latveria’s home and help break free a US diplomat who was being held forcefully at the mansion.
Sneaking in was easy, especially with the help of a secret informant within the mansion who had planned everything. You would dress up as a maid, easily blending in thanks to the large amount that worked there, and go a few times to get a layout of the place. You had three days to learn and remember every room on all four levels and figure out where the asset was.
On the fourth day, Steve would be snuck in by you pretending to bring in fresh linen sheets for the many beds of the house. He was in a laundry cart, which made it easy to transport him around the place. That didn’t make your job any easier, as the bedrooms were on the second and third floor, and the diplomat was in the basement. 
“How did you learn that many names in three days?” Steve questioned as he began to throw the sheets off of him.
You took him to a room on the second floor where you were more than positive no one used. On the way there, you had greeted several other maids and armed guards.
“I say a person’s name three times when I meet them so it helps me remember them.”
Hopping out the cart, he gave you a confused look. “It took you a month to learn mine.”
You shrugged. “I didn’t say it worked very well.”
You removed a few more sheets revealing two guns. You lifted the skirt of your dress, revealing two leg holsters attached to your thighs, and put the guns away.
Looking up at Steve, you saw his brows were raised, staring down at the skirt that now covered your thighs. “I thought this was supposed to be a quiet simple ‘get in and get out’ mission.” His eyes moved up to yours.
You stared at him deadpan for a moment, then let out a long sigh. “Rogers, you’re here to make sure things are ‘quiet’ and ‘simple’, and these are here,” you patted the guns on your thighs, “for when that doesn’t happen.”
He seemed stunned for a moment, but eventually nodded and the two of you were out of the room. 
It was fairly easy, sneaking down from the first floor to the second floor. Sneaking down from the first floor to the basement entrance would prove to be difficult though, as there were far more guards on the first level. 
The two of you stood in an empty hallway, staring around the corner at two men with large guns guarding the entrance to the basement. 
“That’s the only entrance?”
“That’s the only entrance.” You took in a small inhale, hand instantly going to your holster. “I say we take ‘em out, rush in, get the guy, and rush out.”
Steve shot after your hand, holding it with a firm grip. “Are you insane? There are probably over fifty guys in here and you want them all after us?”
“Well I’m sorry, but do you have a better plan?”
“Why don’t you ask them for help.”
“At best, one will come to help me. At worst, they’ll know something’s up because there are plenty of other guards I could’ve asked for help.”
The two of you began to bicker quietly, trying to figure out how to deal with the guards. So distracted amongst yourselves, you almost missed the faint sounds of the guards talking.
“Shush.” You put a finger up to Steve’s mouth, silencing him.
You peaked around the corner, eyes widening when you saw the guards were trading shifts now. The ones who had previously been on guard began walking away, headed towards your direction.
‘We need to go now’, You mouthed.
You and Steve quickly moved to the other end of the hallway, ready to turn the corner and hide, when you saw another guard talking to a maid. You glanced back to see if the guards had come around yet, seeing one of their shoes come into sight.
In a panic, you grabbed Steve’s hand and rushed him into the one closet you knew was in the hallway. The closet was rather small, almost filled with cleaning supplies. Luckily, there was barely enough room for the two of you, even if you were directly against one another.
You pushed him in, then backed yourself in and shut the door as quietly as you could, seeing the guards fully come around just as you closed the door. Your back was fully against his chest and you could feel his warm breath coming down on you. Steve tried to adjust himself in an attempt to put some sort of distance between the two of you. You were pressed against him so much, he could feel your lower back against his dick. He quickly stopped, jaw clenching when he realized he was only rubbing himself into you further.
You, too focused on listening for the guards and anyone else that could pass by, had only vaguely noticed Steve move around for a moment before stopping. Besides that, you didn’t care all too much if he was comfortable or not.
Until this moment, you two had never been close, physically or as friends. You were acquaintances, at least, that’s how you saw it. You found him handsome, as most women seemed to, and he was always a gentleman around you. You were polite in return, but aside from work, you two didn’t talk. He was the perfect boy scout and you were the girl scout that got kicked out for punching a girl who stuck gum in your hair. You didn’t think your two personalities would clash very well.
Mistakenly, you moved one of your arms, elbow hitting a lobby dustpan and causing it to fall over and jab your side. You winced, jerking back against Steve. Instantly, he grabbed your waist, holding on with a tight grip.
You assumed he was angry. “Sorry Cap,” You whispered.
After a good few minutes of you two being stuck together, with Steve still holding on, though not as tight, the coast was clear. You each crept out silently and continued with the mission. You noticed Steve stayed at least two feet away from you since, however, you ignored it.
-
The mission went on with a few hiccups, but you and Steve were able to handle them and safely extract the diplomat. Then, you managed to escape, avoiding oncoming fire from the guards and took the man to a safe house where he would then be snuck out of the country by different agents.
You and Steve, instead of going to the safe house, went back to the hotel you two had been staying at. Your mission was to get the guy out and to the safe house, that was it. Besides, you couldn’t even leave with him as there wasn’t enough room to take you and Steve. You wouldn’t be staying long, already scheduled to meet at a secure location for the next day to leave.
The two of you didn’t speak much once in your shared hotel room. You were rather tired, and Steve, being the incredible person he was, already started working on the report.
After changing into your pajamas, which was a large hoodie and a pair of shorts, you flopped down on the bed and passed out immediately. Steve gave you the bed when it was revealed there was only one, and instead opted to take the couch that folded out into a springy mattress.
You fell into a deep slumber, sleeping for a good few hours without disturbance. The only thing that woke you, was the need to use the restroom. Your body on autopilot, you stood up, carefully heading straight for the bathroom in the darkness. 
With your mind foggy from just waking up, you didn’t think to knock before entering, nor did you hear the faint sounds of water sprinkling down. You opened the door quietly, your tired mind under the impression Steve was asleep as well until you looked in.
The setup of the bathroom was the toilet right on the right-hand side when you opened the door and was the first thing you saw. Then, right next to it, was the sink with a large mirror. Across from it was the bathtub shower combo, that had a clear shower curtain with a few flowers spread across. The showerhead was placed opposite the door, so whoever was taking a shower had their back to the door.
You saw Steve’s bareback, but in the mirror, you saw him fully nude with water falling down the back of his neck, and his fist wrapped around his cock. You blinked twice before your eyes widened with pure horror as you realized you just walked in on Captain America masturbating.
You clamp a hand over your mouth to stop you from saying a word. You backed away, carefully trying to close the door so he wouldn’t notice you had walked in, until…
“(Y-Y/N),” He groans out. 
You halt, heart speeding as you believe he caught you walking in. You had the door open only a crack now, but you could still clearly see him.
“Fuck… (Y/N).” His voice is low, and he’s using a tone you’ve never heard from him.
‘He doesn’t know I’m here,’ You thought at first, glad he hadn’t seen you. Then, your brain falls into chaos and something lights up inside of you. ‘He doesn’t know I’m here! He doesn’t fucking know I’m here!‘ Your mind screamed.
His right hand glides over his dick and his left hand his firm against the tile wall. Rapidly, his hand moves from the head that’s already leaking, down the long shaft, and to his ballsack before coming back up and repeating the motion. With his small ragged breath, it’s clear he’s desperate for a release.
Your panties grow wet, hearing his low moans and watching the water droplets roll down his muscular build. You clench your thighs, cheeks burning, and your breathing now heavy. Not a single part of you had been touched, but the arousal you were getting was ruining your panties. You feel extremely guilty for watching him during this very private, and extremely intimate, moment. However, he did say your name, whether he knew you were listening or not, still, under the belief you were in the bed sound asleep.
His breath growing uneven, his legs begin to spasm, and his left hand balls into a fist against the tile wall. HIs pumps become erratic and he throws his head back, eyes shut. 
“Fuck,” He groans out, his cum finally spurting out of his cock. 
You watch his load come out, only to be washed away and down the drain. Your legs become shaky, watching his dick pulse with each spurt that comes out. He pumps until his cock stops shooting out cum and he moves his hand against the wall. He slumps forward, his hands holding him up as he takes a few deep breaths.
You see the corners of his lips curve upward as he enjoys his small moment of bliss. When he reaches to turn the knobs, you finally shut the door, careful as to not make a noise.
You scurry back to your bed, jumping under the blankets and hiding your face. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to fall back asleep. Your racing mind wouldn’t allow it though. You had just watched the Steve Rogers masturbate, and you weren’t sure how to face him now.
548 notes · View notes
I know you haven't really done many prompts for Empire SMP, but having seen Jimmy's perspective today, I really want to see him just talk about everything that's against him and I think it would be really fun to see him just breakdown with Pixl.
Lore-wise, Jimmy really has gone through the ringer.
he really has T_T someone pls save him
...
Pixlriffs is working on setting up some more candles around the vigil when he hears a noise from behind him. Immediately alert, he spins round, already pulling out his sword, but he freezes when he spots a figure half-limping towards him.
As he rushes towards the figure, he realises with a jerk that it’s his closest ally. “J-Jimmy?!”
The ruler of the Cod Empire is dishevelled and clearly exhausted, and instead of his normal cod mask, he’s wearing the brown llama mask that Pixl remembers giving him a few weeks ago.
Pixl reaches out to steady his friend, holding him by the arms. “Jimmy, what on earth-?!”
“Gosh, your empire is… is really out there,” Jimmy murmurs, his words slightly slurred. “In the middle of a desert. I’m so hot…”
With that, he collapses against Pixl.
“Jimmy!” he gasps, propping his unconscious friend up.
He manages to lift Jimmy onto his back and hurriedly carries him over to his home. He lays Jimmy down on his bed and hesitantly removes his friend’s mask.
He’s shocked to see a fairly fresh cut on Jimmy’s face from his left temple to the corner of his left eye. It’s not still bleeding but it looks untreated. Maybe from the last day or so.
Forcing himself to ignore that for now, Pixl fetches some water and an ice pack, the latter of which he applies to Jimmy’s forehead. Immediately, Jimmy lets out a quiet sigh and stirs slightly, though he doesn’t wake.
After about ten minutes of gently tipping sips of water down Jimmy’s throat, Jimmy’s eyelids flutter.
“Hey,” says Pixl quietly, giving his friend a soft smile. “Can you hear me?”
Blinking groggily, Jimmy frowns. “What happened? Where am I?”
“In my empire,” says Pixl. “Do you not remember?”
Jimmy lifts a hand to his forehead. “My head’s a little fuzzy.”
“I’m not surprised; you were pretty dehydrated. Do you have any idea how long you were wandering around in the desert?”
“No, not really.”
“Well if you walked all the way here from your kingdom, it’s a wonder you didn’t parch to death,” Pixl responds. “Why didn’t you use your elytra?”
“I wanted to walk as long as possible and then when I eventually tried to take off, I realised I didn’t have any rockets,” says Jimmy sheepishly.
Pixl chuckles. That’s so Jimmy. “Right, I see. Why would you want to walk all the way here, anyway? We didn’t have a meeting or anything, did we?”
“No, I…” Jimmy hesitates. “I just needed a break. And I wanted to see you. And I needed to be several thousand blocks away from everyone else.”
“Really?” Pixl frowns. “Are you okay?”
Jimmy hesitates again, before deciding to tell the truth. “Um… no. I’m not okay. A lot of stuff happened yesterday and I’d really like to curl up and cry right now.”
Pixl gives his friend a sympathetic look. “Tell me about what happened.”
“W-Well…” Jimmy sits up in the bed, taking a deep breath. “fWhip covered my nether portal in cobblestone so I told him to come over and clear it up but he used tnt to blow it up and then when I told him to fix the hole in the ground, he blew a bigger hole under the first one and then Scott and Gem showed up and I was hoping they might be on my side but apparently Scott actually helped fWhip make the cobblestone thingy so then I got really mad and hit fWhip with my sword but then he killed me and stole my Codfather mask and I begged him to give it back but he just flew off with it a-and I don’t know how to get it back now cuz Scott said I keep starting things I can’t finish and that even with my allies, I couldn’t hope to beat fWhip but I need that mask back Pixl I can’t-.”
Sensing Jimmy’s rising panic, Pixl quickly grabs Jimmy’s shoulders to stop his friend. “Hey hey hey, shh. It’s okay, Jimmy. Shh.”
Jimmy lets his breathing settle, clearing his throat as his voice cracks. “Wh-What’s wrong with me, Pixl…?” he whispers. “Why am I such an easy target? Is this all because I stole stuff from Sausage so early on? Do I deserve all this?”
“No, Jimmy,” replies Pixl immediately. “fWhip is being a bully, and bullies always have their buddies backing them up so they feel stronger. First it was Sausage, now it’s Scott.”
“I just… I just don’t understand. I thought Gem and Katherine were my allies but Gem is now fully on fWhip’s side and Katherine pretends she’s on everyone’s side but she always seems to back up the person who isn’t me. Who do I have on my side?”
“You’ve got me, you’ve got Joel, you’ve got Lizzie.”
“I do trust Joel and Lizzie, and you of course, but… I-I’m just kinda expecting everyone to leave me if another alliance offers something better. And I wouldn’t even blame them.”
Pixl pauses, casting a brief look at the walls surrounding him. “...well, I’ll never leave you.”
“I-I don’t think you can realistically promise that,” Jimmy responds dejectedly.
This reinforces Pixl’s resolve. “I’m doing it anyway. You need an ally you can always count on, and I will be that ally. No matter what, Jimmy, I’ll stick by you. I know my empire is a long way from yours but if you ever need backup again, send me a message and I’ll drop whatever I’m doing and fly straight over.”
“Really…?” Jimmy stares at him with hopeful eyes. “Wh-Why would you do that for me? Aren’t there better, stronger empires out there you can ally with?”
“Frankly, yeah, there are. But I don’t care. It’s not all about power.”
Jimmy scoffs.
“It’s not,” Pixl repeats. “Power gets you through a war, sure, but wars aren’t the only things empires have to deal with. You’re a kind and fair ruler to your subjects, Jimmy. Villagers, animals, everything. You always go the extra mile to ensure their comfort and safety, and in this world, that’s a rarity. Power really isn’t the only thing that matters. It’s one of the biggest, but that doesn’t mean you should be counted out just on lack of power. That’s why you find yourself a powerful ally, right? And I like to flatter myself that I’ve built up a pretty powerful empire here. Maybe not fWhip-level powerful, but strong enough to defend us both if a certain tnt-crazed empire comes calling.”
Jimmy gazes at him. “Would you really put your empire on the line for my fights?”
“Of course.” Pixl gives him a kind smile. “That’s what allies do.”
“...Pixl, I…” Jimmy can hardly muster any words to express his emotions. “I-I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. All we need to do is take care of each other and we’ll be okay.”
“Pix…” Jimmy is almost completely lost for words. He’s never had someone show this level of dedication towards him before, especially considering they haven’t known each other very long. “A-Anything you need, Pix, anything at all, just ask.”
Pixl’s smile falls as his eyes flicker up to the scar on Jimmy’s face. “Actually… I do have a question. How did you get that scar on your face?”
“Huh?” Jimmy’s hand automatically moves to touch the jagged line on his forehead. “Oh. This. A, um… a piece of debris from fWhip’s second tnt explosion got me. Nearly got my eye, actually.”
“It looks bad. Untreated.”
“Yeah, I… I’m not so good at first aid and I did ask Scott and Gem if one of them could help me clean it but they refused.”
Pixl’s eyes widen. “They what?!”
Jimmy nods sadly. “They made some excuses and left. Scott said it didn’t look that bad and I could deal with it myself. I looked at it in the river and I also didn’t think it looked that bad.”
“Gosh.” Pixl shakes his head disapprovingly, a deep frown on his face. “That’s… That’s so terrible.”
“I-I’m sorry,” whispers Jimmy.
“What? No, not you. I can’t believe Scott and Gem would leave you when you were clearly hurt. Do you have a first aid kit back in your base? And your food situation: do you have enough food? What’s your diet like?”
A little taken aback by the sudden questions, Jimmy hesitates. “I’ve, uh… been eating fish, mostly. Cod Empire, you know.”
“Any potatoes? Carrots?”
Jimmy shakes his head.
Pixl scrutinises him. “Right, okay. Jimmy, you’re gonna stay with me here for a while.”
“A-A while?”
“A few days. You’ve been through a lot lately; you need someone to take care of you. I’ll get that wound treated for you, show you around my empire, and make sure you get some nutrients in your diet. Do you have a potato farm?” Before Jimmy can reply, Pixl continues, “Nevermind, I’ll get you enough potatoes to either get started or improve it, whichever. You need to keep drinking water, though; you’ll get dehydrated really fast in the desert.”
He pauses as he registers the smile on Jimmy’s face. “What?” he chuckles.
“Nothing.” Jimmy averts his gaze, though his smile remains. “Just… thank you. I can’t tell you how much it means to me to have you on my side.”
Pixl smiles back and squeezes Jimmy’s shoulder.
“I’ll always be on your side, Jimmy. Always.”
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datawyrms · 3 years
Text
“Did you apologize to Tucker yet?”
“About what? Wait, are we talking again? I thought we weren’t talking.” The ghost circled back, blindly fumbling with the thermos lid, eyes busy squinting at the hunter’s mask as if it would let him see through it better. “You’re not gonna say it’s fine then shoot me, are you?”
“Why do you always remind me why I don’t like talking to you like this.”
“What’d you mean like ‘this’? Like I should pretend that isn’t a totally valid question?” 
Valerie groaned, gesturing at the ghost. “Like that sort of thing is normal!”
Phantom smirked, letting the edges of his boots hit the hoverboard. “Welcome to my life.”
“And how you just keep that stupid confident face up.”
“Uh huh. I thought you were lecturing me about Tucker, not my personality.”
She deeply considered having the board jar the ghost off, but that’d probably just amuse him more. “You seriously don’t remember why you should be apologizing?”
“Well according to you, I should basically apologize for existing. So sometimes I lose track on the particulars.” There was an edge there that the blithe tone couldn’t quite cover up, even as the ghost sat down. “Y’gonna enlighten me or what? I’m bad at twenty questions.”
“You broke your promise to him, remember?”
The blank stare she earned in response was absolutely infuriating. “Uhhh. Which one?” He had the sense to look embarrassed, hand glued to the back of his neck.
That wasn’t going to help him though. Shooting him was actually sounding like a fair idea if it was the only thing that would get him to actually learn and pay attention. “To stop possessing people. The big one? The really easy one that NONE of his other friends need to worry about doing ‘accidentally’?”
“Wow Val, if you just wanted to say you think I’m weird you didn’t need to drag Tuck into it.” The embarrassment slid into a scowl easily enough, arms crossed as if that would defend him. “I haven’t done that for months.”
“He’s been telling you he hates it for years.” Before she even figured out Danny’s dead man walking secret. Tucker was too good a friend to be ignored for literal years because a ghost conveniently forgot how fucked up it was to invade someone’s body and use them as an unwilling meat puppet if it was ‘helpful’.
“I try, okay? I’m not doing it to upset him!”
“Somehow everyone else can manage without doing it.”
The ghost tilted his head. “Well duh, you guys can’t.”
“Even if we could, we wouldn’t.” She snapped, the confusion and completely casual excusing of his actions just a little too much to deal with. “Heroes don’t control people.”
“Well excuse me for needing to protect myself. If what I am gets out to the wrong people, I’m dead. More dead.” He groaned face in hand “You know what I mean. Worse than dead. Dani too.”
“Do you really think Tucker’s dad would have ratted your whispy ass out? That he wouldn’t help you explain? Or was it just an excuse to let yourself do what you want?”
“Well you seem to have decided that it was! Which it wasn’t!” His eyes flared green with the defence, and Valarie had to work to not react to the impulsive want to get away from an angry ghost. “I just- reacted, okay? I told him that!”
“Well Tucker and Sam keep forgetting how much of a ghost you are, so of course they won’t buy that excuse.”
“Excuse? It’s not an excuse!” He was up, the offended squawk reminding her so much of how he was before. When they were all fourteen, and every uncomfortable problem could be chalked up to being ‘a moody teenager’ and ignored for a while longer. “And you could stop saying ghost like that, while you’re at it?” The glow dimmed, but he kept the distance. “Sound like my dad.”
“What, you want me to say it like you do when they keep coming here to threaten people? Deal with it.”
“There are plenty of ghosts who don’t do that.”
“Yeah. They don’t come here, and they aren’t my problem,” she shrugged, considering. “I’ll say it nice to them.”
“Oh, real funny.”
“You deserve it.”
She expected a scoff, at least. Probably a laugh, considering how often he’d joke about being the town’s public enemy for a time. Instead he averted his eyes. “Maybe we can finish this talk on the ground?”
It was easier to be ticked off at him when he was joking, or steamed himself. Phantom didn’t ‘do’ uneasy. Maybe it was a good sign that he was actually listening, if he wanted to continue ‘off the clock’. “Space cadet wants to land? Sure, if you want.”
“I wouldn’t go with ‘want’, but yeah.”
It wasn’t much trouble, in the middle of the day. A quick glance while hidden in at least one direction was enough. People who lived in Amity Park knew they should get out of the area of a ghost sighting at this point. Even if she and Phantom were trusted enough to deal with it, stray shots happened. Things fell. Not too many eyes to avoid, even if her identity felt like an open secret most of the time.
Danny had it even easier. He just had to think. It felt like a sick joke, that he could stop being dead on a whim and blend in fairly well. The gangly man leaning against the tree looked human. Black hair, blue eyes, needed a tan, unremarkable. Average. Unless you knew what to look for, anyway. How a casual slouch didn’t match up with how he was always looking for something, a tense energy that seemed desperate to crack free of that spine. That he could walk in winter with the thinnest of jackets and not shake from the cold even once. “Hey.”
Valerie rolled her eyes, sitting on the bench. “Hey yourself.”
Danny grimaced, looking up and away. “How much of a ghost I am, huh?” It wasn’t an angry question, exactly. He was still slouching, hands in pockets. Guarded and uneasy. How much of that fear and caution the person she thought she knew, and how much of it was just another part of his act?
“You’ve said you’re at least half of one.”
“Yeah. You just make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”
The whole crux of the issue, really. How no one really knew how to deal with Danny, his secret and how he’d changed. “It’s not a bad thing on it’s own.”
“So I’m the part you like to sneer at,” his brow furrowed, the creases and wrinkles more ominous as blue slid closer to green. “I thought we went over this. You know what actually happened. How I never really attacked people.”
She admired Tucker and Sam’s patience, she really did. “We have. It’s not about that stuff. That’s years ago, you know it. It’s the other stuff.”
The anger was gone in an instant. “What other stuff?”
He was a living migraine waiting to happen. “How you keep thinking things from seven years ago are more important than things happening right now?”
“Hey, you’re the one that held the grudge for two.”. 
“Months. Not years.”
He slouched more at the correction, apparently very interested in his own hands. “Oh. Right.”
“You haven’t been using the reminders like Jazz told you to, have you.”
“I can remember fine! I don’t need some box doing it for me. I’ve just been busy.”
Busy. That was his excuse this time? She crossed her arms and leaned back. “Okay, what year is it?”
“Uhm.” he paused to pick at a non existent loose thread “One starting in 2?”
“Danny.”
“What! Lots of people don’t care too much about the time.”
He didn’t even try to guess within ten years. There was living in the present, and there was this. “No, you know your ghost side makes you act in certain ways and keep denying it. So you still get the complete pain version of ghost. Get it?”
“I’m not that different.” He wouldn’t look at her, hand clenching. “I’m human too, you know.”
“Uhuh. The way your eyes flare up when you’re mad is super human.” She ignored his scowl, pushing forward. “I get it. You don’t like being reminded. Tuck and Sam try to ignore it for your sake.”
“Val, I’m not denying it okay? I know. It’s pretty obvious!”
“Then stop pretending you don’t know. They’re trying so hard to help you have a chance of getting a job that isn’t with your parents and you won’t even use the reminders to help you remember where in time you are!”
That got him to bristle, shaking off his slouch in a sudden reminder of how tall he really was. “Why does it matter? We’re all just kidding ourselves about me ever leaving here.”
“So you just won’t try? Just give up on finding anything else? For someone who keeps insisting he’s human, you sure seem eager to ditch that half of your life.”
“That isn’t what I’m doing.”
“Then what are you doing? Because all I’ve seen you do is get tetchy about ghosts and instinctively do ghost things. When you’re human.”
“I’m putting in the work.You know it’s hard to study or hold down a job.”
“So stop making it harder on yourself.They’ve found ways to help keep you grounded, so do it.” Sam should be saying this, of course. She’d heard it frustratedly repeated so many times, but she never dared to actually say it to the one who had to hear it. Because he was already prone to pulling away or vanishing when you pressed too hard, made things too uncomfortable. Ghosts didn’t do coping, and Danny was never great at facing personal issues head on before becoming a menace to her sanity either. “You think making things harder makes you more of a hero?”
“‘Course not.” He wasn’t looking at her anymore. He was looking for an escape, an out. “I shouldn’t need that stuff, alright?”
Now it was her turn to be puzzled. “Why shouldn’t you?”
A lopsided grin answered her question. “Who likes admitting they’re a freak?” The tree no longer had a human standing by it, but his voice was easy enough to hear. “ But I guess some people care about a freak like me anyway.”
(did Valerie use a tracker to smack him and say ‘you’re not a freak’ right after this? yes)
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makeste · 3 years
Note
A theory I have seen is that Fuyumi wants the family back so desperately, because she and Toya experienced the better Endeavor, where everything was alright. My guess is that after his decent into abuse its stopped being like a normal family and Natsuo and Shoto never experienced a normal family. But that is just a therory
okay so speaking as someone who grew up with an abusive and neglectful parent (though in my case it was my mom rather than my dad)... it’s complicated. there are a lot of emotions there. I think one of the things Horikoshi has really excelled at with the whole Todoroki plot is the way that he’s used the four siblings to show the different ways that children respond to parental abuse. and I can say from personal experience that all of them are valid. not just the bitterness, anger, and resentment that Touya, Natsuo, and Shouto have all shown at times, but also that intense (but tentative, almost wishful-thinking) longing to just have a normal family that we see from Fuyumi. speaking again from experience, that last one isn’t an outlier at all. in fact, in my case, I’d say that was honestly the strongest feeling out of all of them, and it even fueled a lot of the other three emotions. btw just a heads up I’m gonna delve into some personal stuff here briefly, so yeah. I won’t put details, but if anyone wants an abuse trigger warning added to the post or anything like that, just let me know.
so the thing is, even during my angriest times, if some magic wish-granting genie had poofed in and told the child me, “’sup, I’m here to solve all of your family problems, just tell me what you want me to do,” I wouldn’t have wanted them to take my mom away and lock her up somewhere and make her suffer or anything like that. honestly, even during the worst of it, the thing I wanted more than anything else was just to have a normal family. my mom had a lot of untreated mental health issues, and it was basically a situation where you never knew which version of her you were going to get on any given day. so there were times when she was a kind and loving mother who took care of me and my siblings. and there were a great many more times when she was temperamental and erratic, and we all (my dad included) basically just walked on eggshells around her and did our best to lay low and try not to bother her because even little things might set her off, and we never knew how she was going to react. and my dad worked a lot, and my sibs and I were homeschooled for reasons which I’m not gonna get into because this post is already veering off on too many tangents, but anyway so the short of it is that my sibs and I grew up in this unstable environment and ended up more or less raising ourselves. and I resented my mom a lot for that, growing up, and I still do honestly.
now a lot’s happened since then, and she’s gotten some help, and my siblings and I are all adults now and we’re more or less good, even though we all took a certain amount of Psychic Damage along the way and we’re each still dealing with that. and we each have different relationships with our mom now, and a couple of my sibs are even fairly close to her. but for my part, I pretty much have no relationship with her at all outside of seeing her a few times a year at family get-togethers and the like. the thing is, even though my mom did eventually (after a LOT of false starts and struggles and heartache) get some help, she’s never really shown remorse for what my siblings and I went through because of her. she’s never taken responsibility for any of it. she blames a lot of other people, and will go on long rants about all of the terrible things that have happened to her and all of the horrible ways people have treated her (some of which is true, and some of which very much is not). but there’s never even the slightest acknowledgement of any of the things she herself has done to hurt others. she either passes the blame or just pretends it never happened. 
and honestly, it sucks. even now, there’s little to no real desire to change on her part. she’s gotten therapy and meds now, and so emotionally she’s much more stable than when we were kids, but one of the unfortunate results is that it’s all the more clear now that a lot of her behavior never had anything to do with her mental illness at all. she just didn’t care at all about how she was hurting others; or at the very least, didn’t care to face it. and that’s just how it is.
anyway, so I’m sorry to keep breaking away and telling you guys my own life story lol. but the point I’m trying to get at here is that I actually relate to Fuyumi so much, though. what I wanted more than anything was for my mom to care, and to say she was sorry, and for me to be able to believe that and to trust her, and for her to actually change. that was it.
and so for me, here’s the biggest difference between the Endeavor situation, and my own and so many others. the difference is that unlike people in real life, we know Endeavor is actually remorseful for what he’s done. we know it for certain because we’ve seen it for ourselves, from his own point of view. the manga actually lets us get inside his head and shows us that he really is sincere, that he really is sorry, and that he really is trying to change. and that’s something that’s impossible to get in real life. that certainty that the person really means it, that they’re genuinely remorseful and committed to making amends.
and for me, that’s fucking wish fulfillment right there. for the abusive parent to finally realize the error of their ways and be sorry and try to do right by their kids. I fucking wanted that. hell, I still want it, even though I’ve made my peace with things the way that they are. that chance to somehow heal the broken relationship, and have your parent genuinely try their best to be a real parent to you, even if it’s years after the fact? shit. I’d take that in a heartbeat.
and so when it comes to Fuyumi and her attempts to get her family to reconcile and experience a few normal things, I f feel that. I really do. because when you’re growing up in that type of situation, normal is all that you want. and I don’t think it’s anything that requires an explanation on her part, because it’s not actually an unusual reaction at all. it’s natural. it’s the most natural thing in the world. honestly it’s annoying that fandom sometimes tries to shame her for having those feelings. like honestly, fuck that. because the thing is, I’d wager that almost every kid who grew up with an abusive parent has at some time or other felt the exact same way.
and that includes Touya, Natsuo, and Shouto as well. literally the only difference between them and Fuyumi is that they feel that Endeavor’s change of heart is simply coming too late. it’s not that they don’t want their family back, just like she does; it’s that from their point of view, it’s something they can’t get back. for Fuyumi, that dream of having a normal family is something she’s still seeking. for Natsuo and Touya, that dream of having a normal family is something that was destroyed. something that Endeavor killed. something they’re in mourning of. and so Touya wants revenge for it, and Natsuo is trying to pick himself up and move past it. and meanwhile Shouto is caught somewhere in the middle of all of those reactions, because he’s still trying to decide whether or not he can ever bring himself to trust his father again. he’s somewhere in between his brothers’ mourning and his sister’s hopefulness. sort of a Schrodinger type of deal lol.
but anyway, the point I’m trying to make here is that all four siblings are really experiencing the same thing, just in different ways. Fuyu may be the one arranging family dinners and the like, but that same longing to be part of a normal family is at the core of Natsuo, Shouto, and even Touya’s behavior as well. Natsuo’s hurt and resentment, and Touya’s spite and bitterness, come from being denied the thing they want. and Fuyu’s shaky attempts at reconciliation come from her desire to still obtain it somehow. but at the end of the day they’re the exact same feelings. and they all come from the same place.
anyways, hopefully that makes some kind of sense. basically, everyone is valid. Fuyu is valid, Natsu and Shouto are valid, and Touya is murdery which isn’t cool, but his feelings are still valid too nonetheless. hugs and therapy for the Todoroki children in 2021, Horikoshi. please and thank you.
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Text
Goodnight
Prompts: TODAY IS LESBIAN DAY WE NEED WLW SIDES - anon (who is correct)
Hi, I just wanna say I love how you writing is a perfect blend of angst and fluff.
If you want, could you write a story of Remus (or Janus) comforting Logan after a nightmare. No pressure.💚 - anon (who is also correct)
I mean we gotta appreciate the lesbians
Read on Ao3
Warnings: literally this thing is so fluffy imma use it as a pillow
Pairings: introloceit, implied background dlampr
Word Count: 1437
 Just because she’s Logic doesn’t mean she doesn’t get nightmares.
Logan’s footsteps are silent save for the few creaks in the floorboards. Despite the fact that they are decidedly not physical, it seems the laws of physics have no trouble extending to a metaphysical level. She keeps her eyes out for anyone who might be awake. She has to keep them safe, they have to—
 They’ve just got to be safe.
 She rounds the corner into the Dark Sides’ living room and pauses. Remus—Remus isn’t here. Remus is always here. She doesn’t sleep, not like the rest of them do.
 Logan feels her blood run cold.
 Remus. Where is Remus?
 She breaks into a run, looking for the one light under her door, under Virgil’s door, under anyone’s door. She rounds the corner and—
 Janus’s door is cracked, a soft glow spilling into the hallway. As she edges closer, she hears a faint tapping coming from inside.
 She hesitates, then reaches out and knocks twice.
 The tapping stops.
 “Come in.”
 Breathing a sigh of relief, Logan pushes the door open to see Janus sitting at her desk. She looks up and smiles softly. 
 “Hi, sweetie,” she murmurs, “what’re you doing awake?”
 “I could ask you the same question.” She glances at the door. “May I come in?”
 “Of course, sweetie, come in. Sit down.”
 Logan glances one more time at the hallway. Janus catches it and frowns.
 “What’s wrong, sweetie, did you hear something?”
 “No, I’m alright, I just—“ she swallows— “haven’t seen Remus.”
 “I’m in here too, Pocket Protector.”
 Logan’s head jerks around. Janus gestures to the bed and sure enough, there’s Remus, her legs kicked up behind her. She waves.
 “Get over here, Lolo,” she calls, “sit down. Jan-Jan’s gonna be protective since you’re up so late.”
 “You’re both up late too,” Logan mumbles as she does as bid, closing the door with a soft click and perching awkwardly on the end of the bed. Janus frowns, turning around.
 “Did you want something?”
 “Huh? Oh no, I’m perfectly alright.”
 Janus hisses gently.
 Logan pushes her glasses further up her nose. “May I ask what you’re working on?”
 Janus and Remus exchange a glance before Janus sighs. “A plan for a new test Remus wants to do. Hopefully, it should increase effectiveness and control the reverse-osmosis-torque factor.” She frowns at Logan when there’s no response. She waits for a second before standing and coming to crouch in front of her “Alright, what’s happened?”
 “What?” Logan blinks. “Nothing, nothing, everything’s fine.”
 Janus raises an eyebrow.
 “Mmm, what the hell is reverse-osmosis-torque factor?”
 Logan’s mouth opens and closes soundlessly. Remus huffs and scoots a little closer.
 Janus softens, reaching up to fix Logan’s glasses. “Why did you come in the middle of the night?”
 “You’re still awake too!”
 “Insomniacs, sweetie. Why did you close the door?”
 Logan stutters into silence, mouth trying to form words. Janus stands, reaching to gently cup Logan’s cheek. “Sweetie, what happened?”
 “…you won’t believe me.”
 Before she can blink, Remus is sprawled across her lap, toying idly with the hem of her nightshirt. Janus sits on the bed next to her, still cupping her face, another hand stretching out to turn off the computer.
 “Lies are my job, Logan,” she murmurs, “I’ll believe you.”
 “I had a nightmare.”
 She waits for her to laugh. Nothing except an encouraging tap under her chin.
 “It was…bad.”
 “What happened,” Remus asks quietly, “can you tell us, Lolo?”
 She swallows heavily. “I couldn’t remember who you, or Patton, or Roman, or Virgil, or—or Remus were. You—I didn’t know what to do, you—”
 Janus lets out a soft noise as she swallows again.
 “…you didn’t remember me either.”
 “Oh, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, pulling Logan’s head into the crook of her neck, “shh, we remember you, of course we remember you, you’re so important, sweetie.”
 “You’re not going anywhere, Lolo.” Remus turns over to plant her face in her tummy. “You’re ours. You’re never getting away.”
 Despite everything, the corner of Logan’s mouth quirks up. “What did I do to deserve this?”
 “You’re you,” Remus says simply, “that’s enough.”
 Before Logan can respond to that—or even work out how—Remus rolls off and starts tugging her hand. “Come on.”
 “Where are we going?”
 “You’re gonna sleep, Lolo, and we’re gonna take care of you.”
 “What about—“ she gestures toward the computer.
 “Mindless scrolling, Logan,” Janus says softly, “now come on.”
 Logan lets Remus tug her up, only to squeak in surprise when she suddenly has an armful of green.
 “What are you doing?”
 “I’m hugging you, you big doof.” She looks up at her, placing her chin flat on her chest. “You look like you need a hug.”
 “What are you gonna do, just cuddle me all night?” Remus nods. “N-no, you don’t have to, I’ll be alright—“
 “You don’t have to do that, baby girl,” Remus says, still trying to get Logan to lie down.
 “Let us take care of you, sweetie.” Janus does up behind her to wrap more arms around the two of them.
 Logan knows when she’s outnumbered. As Janus goes to turn the light off, she lets Remus pull back the covers and snuggle into bed near the wall. She lies down next to her, trying to get comfortable in the darkness.
 Only for Janus to try to lie down on top of her.
 “Janus, I—ah! You’re squishing me!” She’s met with a chuckle as Janus’s weight settles atop her. “Get off me!”
 “You’re in my spot, sweetie.” She slings one leg over hers so they’re flush. “You move.”
 “I cannot move with you on top of me!” She pushes lightly at her chest to demonstrate. In the dim light, she sees her grin turned wicked.
 “Really?” Her hands begin to slowly trail up and down her sides. “You can’t move? At all? Mind if I test that?”
 Her eyes widened. “Don’t.”
 “Too late.” She smirks and starts tickling her, smiling as she starts to giggle and squirm, trying to get away. “Seems like you can move fairly well to me.”
 “St-stop! Pl-please stop—no!”
 “But your laugh is so cute, giggle bug,” Remus says, the traitor. As her giggles turn silent, Janus kneads her sides one last time before stopping, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.
 “You okay, sweetie?”
 “No…more. Please?”
 Janus chuckles and runs her hand over her stomach. “Want to move out of my spot?”
 She pushes herself up, giving Logan room to roll out of the way before collapsing back down. The second she lies down, she wraps her arms around Logan’s waist, pushes her legs between her, laying her head on her chest.
 “Are you certain this is not an excuse to cuddle me?”
 Janus lifts her head up, running a hand through Logan’s hair. “Why did you come to me, sweetie?”
 At Logan’s silence, Remus chuckles and snuggles against Logan’s shoulder. “She gotcha. Now she’s not gonna let you go for a week.”
 That…doesn’t sound like the worst possible outcome.
 Remus smirks. “You know you’ve just given me the green light to protectively cuddle you at any time, right?”
 Janus plants an exaggerated kiss on her forehead, hushing her whine of protest. “You love it, sweetie. Don’t pretend you don’t.”
 “So do you.”
 “Of course.” Janus winks. “Just don’t ruin my reputation.”
 The room quiets. Remus drifts off first, whistling snores in Logan’s ear. The noise itself isn’t enough to keep her awake, but she stays doggedly alert, her eyes opening every few seconds.
 Will the nightmare come back? What if they realize that it’s true, that they don’t need me? What if this makes them decide they don’t want me anymore?
 “Sweetie,” Janus whispers, moving up to tuck Logan’s head under her chin, “shh. That’s not true, you know it isn’t. We love you, sweetie, you’re important to us.”
 In her sleep, Remus grabs onto her, turning her face into her shoulder.
 Oh.
 Oh.
 “Go to sleep, sweetie,” Janus soothes, running her hand through Logan’s hair, “we’ll be here when you wake up.”
 The hand in her hair is doing wonders to send her right to sleep. She opens her mouth to clumsily mumble: “thank you.”
 “Of course, sweetie. Now goodnight.”
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riversofmars · 3 years
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OMG Vastra and Jenny's wedding! Please write that! Maybe they 'never' got around to it because multiple Doctors and multiple Rivers showed up and therefore don't remember. Haha. Pretty please?
OMG I love this! Yes, of course I will! It's utter chaos, I hope you like it. I was having a good laugh while writing :D
Rating: G
Word Count: 2200
Read on AO3 or blow
The Big Day
“Strax!“ Madame Vastra’s voice carried through the corridors of 13 Paternoster Row.
“Yes, Ma’am?“ Strax stuck his head into Vastra’s study, and the lady of the house looked around.
“There you are. I need you to get Jenny as well,“ she instructed.
“Now, Ma’am?“ Strax frowned.
“Yes, Strax right now,“ she retorted with a sigh.
“You do realise what day it is?“ The butler prompted. It had taken him a while to find her as the study was not where she was supposed to be.
“Yes, Strax I am fully aware what day it is. But the fate of London, planet Earth and, frankly, Time itself makes no exceptions, not even for one’s wedding day,“ Vastra groaned in annoyance. She had been in her bed chambers getting ready for the big day when her advanced hearing had picked up on a series of alarms sounding from the study. She had considered ignoring them, this was meant to be the happiest day of her life after all, but her sense of duty had gotten the better of her.
“Very good, Ma’am…“ Strax nodded. “But perhaps we might try to… solve the problem by ourselves? I’m afraid Miss Jenny might be awfully disappointed if she were to see you before the ceremony,“ the commander pointed out. While he couldn’t pretend to understand the meaning behind all these seemingly random Earth traditions, he appreciated that they bore some significance to Jenny.
“Strax…“ Vastra sighed, she didn’t need him making her feel any more guilty than she already did. All she wanted was for this to be the perfect day for Jenny and already things were going wrong.
“Earlier she threw a shoe at me when I requested her help in serving tea,“ Strax explained.
“Do you think maybe that has something to do with the fact that you asked her to work on her wedding day?“ Vastra couldn’t help a smirk of amusement, she would have enjoyed seeing Strax trying to duck a shoe flying his way.
“I hadn’t considered it, Ma’am,“ the Sontaran mused. “I shall file that under human mating rituals: no work on the wedding day.“
“Right, okay, I suppose I should apply the same principle to fighting alien incursions. Let’s see if we can deal with this discreetly, without Jenny…“ Vastra decided, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“Perhaps I might be of some assistance!“ Strax and Vastra whirled around to see Professor River Song flash a stunning smile at them. She shook out her hair that fizzed with the energy of vortex manipulator travel.
“Professor Song!“ Vastra took a moment to recover from the shock. She stared in surprise at the archaeologist who smoothed down a beautiful navy gown. Guests weren’t meant to arrive for another few hours. Vastra herself hadn’t even changed yet.
“Sorry, I am a bit early but I was in need of a quick getaway and set the coordinates in a hurry… but sounds like I might have been just in time?“ River grinned.
“Well, uh…“ the lady of the house struggled for words.
“So what seems to be the problem, I’m happy to help,“ the professor carried on pleasantly as she looked around the study. “I’m sure there are things you’d rather be doing right now.“
“How about some tea?“ Strax interjected.
“Champagne if you don’t mind. Or is it a bit early for that too?“ River retorted.“What time is it anyway?“
“You see, that seems to be the problem,“ Vastra said, pointing to a clock on the mantelpiece. It had stopped.
“I thought something didn’t feel quite right,“ River checked the time on her vortex manipulator as well.
“It’s not just the one clock, I have checked them all, they’ve just stopped,“ the Silurian carried on.
“Well then, there is nothing for it, we must locate the source of the time distortion so we can get on with this lovely day. You’re only meant to get married once. Getting caught in an alternate reality or a time loop or something to that effect would be awfully inconvenient,“ River clapped her hands together with enthusiasm. As someone with first-hand experience of weddings outside the fabric of time, she felt best equipped to deal with things.
“And how would you suggest we start?“ Vastra asked.
“Well, there really only is one question we need to ask ourselves… where is my plus one? I am fairly certain one of them is responsible for this,“ River put her hands on her hips. “He’s not arrived yet, has he?“
“Which one of them did you bring?“ Vastra questioned, and the professor ran her hand through her hair.
“Ah well, I thought I would see whichever one of them turns up…“
“Oh…“ Realisation dawned on Vastra what sort of temporal disturbance they might be dealing with.
“Was I supposed to bring one in particular?“ River asked, and the Silurian shook her head.
“Well, no. No, it’s just…“
“Ah…“ River came to the same conclusion as the detective. “Yes, I see what you mean…“
“It would make sense…“ Vastra crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“Could you please stop communicating telepathically?“ Strax intervened, and the two women looked around to him.
“More than one Doctor in the same place and time,“ Vastra explained while River produced a scanner from the small clutch bag she was holding.
“Dimensional engineering isn’t just useful for TARDISes, you know,“ she smirked in response to their confused expressions and started running a scan. “The disturbance isn’t far from here, in fact… just…“ She pointed to the ground beneath their feet. “Below us.“
“The Siluritum,“ Vastra sighed. Of course. The cavern below 13 Paternoster Row was where they would be having the ceremony and reception.
“Come on!“ River grinned, heading towards the door. “Or would you rather stay and continue getting ready…?“ She turned back to Vastra, looking her up and down.
“I would rather make sure my wedding does not equate to the end of the universe,“ the detective retorted as she followed.
“What should I do, Ma’am?“ Strax piped up.
“Reassure Jenny that everything is absolutely fine and that everything is going off without a hitch,“ Vastra decided it was best to keep her bride in the dark for as long as possible. Surely, the situation would be easy enough to rectify and with any luck, she would never need to know. “Do NOT let her venture downstairs.“
“But what if she…“ Strax carried on, and Vastra interrupted him:
“Use your initiative Strax: lie.“
“This way…“ Vastra indicated, and River followed. As they descended the stairs to what any ordinary visitor would have presumed the basement, the air was not only getting hot and moist as Silurians preferred it, it also seemed to be fizzing with energy. Reality was slightly out of whack, and the first TARDIS came into view at the bottom of the stairs.
“Now this is going to be fun,“ River commented as they stepped into the impressive cave - decorated for the occasion with the most luscious flowers - and they spotted another dozen TARDISes. There was room enough but evidently not time and reality enough to accommodate them or their numerous owners.
“Alright, can everyone just calm down so we can work this out?!“ One of the Doctors shouted in a thick Scottish accent. “As the oldest one here, I can assure you, none of you are meant to be here, I’d remember!“
“If our time streams are crossed, you wouldn’t remember, actually!“ Another Doctor shot back, who River liked to refer to as Pretty Boy.
“I think this is all some big misunderstanding,“ yet another Doctor - donning particularly well-grown celery for the occasion - pointed out.
“You’re gonna have to help me here…“ Vastra mumbled to River as they hovered in the doorway.
“Who are all these people?“ A young girl enquired of the Doctor next to her.
“Susan Foreman, Doctor’s granddaughter…“ River whispered to Vastra who looked back at her bemused.
“Does that make you a step-grandmother?“
“Shut up…“ River elbowed the Silurian who smirked but then she pointed out all the companions' names to her as they watched them bicker.
“Doctor, you didn’t mention you used to be so handsome…“ Amy Pond was currently in the process of eyeing up several of the Doctor’s previous incarnations while their Doctor just groaned in annoyance, and Rory Williams tried his best to keep her from making acquaintances.
“Handsome? Really?“ Donna Noble shot back, obviously disgusted at the very thought while Pretty Boy smugly straightened his tie.
“So they’re all you?“ Sarah Jane Smith asked, bewildered.
“It would appear so…“ her Doctor retorted, tangling his long scarf around him, while soothing down a suit. To their credit, everyone had dressed up for the occasion.
“Doctor, what are we doing here?“ Liv Chenka threw her hands up in the air, fed up with the bickering.
“We’ve been invited to a wedding,“ her Doctor replied with a wide grin.
“Who’s wedding?“ Ace McShane interjected.
“I don’t know but I love a good wedding, don’t you?“ her Doctor grinned, straightening his hat.
“You don’t even know Vastra and Jenny yet!“ The Doctor that River liked to nickname “Eyebrows“ shot back.
“Is that who’s getting married? Lovely, best put that on the card…“ Pretty Boy instructed Donna who rolled her eyes at him.
“Do you think perhaps it’s time to…“ Vastra looked at River.
“What?“ The professor had been engrossed in watching the spectacle in front of them but the detective certainly had a point. “Oh yeah, yes, let's!“
“Excuse me, everyone!“ Vastra called out and everyone looked around. Before the Silurian could carry on, however, there was an energy discharge, knocking everyone off their feet. Suddenly, another TARDIS appeared in their midst.
“Sorry, sorry! Are we late?“ Another Doctor, northern with blond bobbed hair, stuck her head out.
“Now, this is getting more interesting by the minute!“ River raised her eyebrows intrigued, as she clambered back to her feet.
“River!“ the blond Doctor exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across her face. The other Doctors - surprisingly even the ones that didn’t really know who she was - mirrored the expression upon lying eyes on their wife..
“Professor!“ Vastra elbowed River who took delight in the attention suddenly devoted to her. The air was humming with energy, if another TARDIS decided to pop up now, things would surely go very wrong indeed.
“Right, everyone, this is getting a tiny bit complicated…“ River announced, though somewhat half-heartedly as she made eyes at her numerous husbands and wife, so Vastra decided it best to take things in her own hands:
“And by tiny bit complicated the professor means to say you are disrupting the very fabric of time.“ She put her hands on her hips, her voice stern. “In my house. On my wedding day. And as I would like to actually get married later today, it would be nice if time could carry on and not break, not today.“
“Oh right.“ The Doctors exchanged concerned glances.
“Yeah, I suppose that wouldn’t be very good, would it…“
“So if you wouldn’t mind parking your TARDISes elsewhere,“ Vastra carried on and there were more nods from various Doctors:
“Right.“
“Sure.“
“Naturally.“
“But… which one of us gets to stay? We’re all invited,“ it was the oldest Doctor that spoke up. She was looking at River with stars in her eyes, and it melted the professor’s heart. She evidently hadn’t seen her in a long time and was keen to stay.
“Ah yes, that may have been an oversight on my part…“ River admitted sheepishly as she had sent a message on the psychic paper. One that had clearly reached all of them.
“Well, I think there’s only one thing for it,“ a voice sounded from the doorway, and everyone whirled around. Jenny crossed her arms in front of her chest in amusement as she watched the peculiar scene in front of her.
Everyone was at a loss for words but Vastra in particular. Jenny was wearing a stunning wedding dress of white lace, her hair was pinned up with white flowers and her bright smile was the most dazzling thing of all.
“Darling, it’s…“ Vastra was going to say that everything was alright and dealt with. She was going to say that it was far too early for her to be down here. She was going to say that they shouldn’t be seeing each other yet, but all she could manage was: “You look beautiful.“
“And you’re not changed yet,“ Jenny smirked. “You better, as soon as time carries on.“
“We will have this sorted in a minute, Jenny, I’m so sorry about this.“ River said but the bride just laughed.
“I should have expected today wouldn’t go off without a hitch,“ she commented. “Just as… extraordinary as the rest of our life.“ She smiled at Vastra who gave a soft chuckle as well.
“You said there was one thing for it? What solution did you have in mind, my love?“
“Well I suppose, to keep things fair, we will have to repeat the ceremony a few times, won’t we. So everyone can attend.“ Jenny grinned as Vastra’s face fell.
“Are you serious?“
“Well, it’s only fair. Don’t tell me it’s such a hardship to keep kissing me,“ Jenny winked to a chorus of cheers. She wrapped her arms around her wife-to-be who allowed herself to be pulled into a hug.
Suddenly there was another discharge of energy.
“Alright everyone, move your TARDISes!“ Vastra exclaimed, and the Doctors jumped into action. “It’s gonna be a long and beautiful day.“ She smiled at Jenny and pressed a loving kiss to her lips. The first of many they would share that day.
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