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seelestia · 1 day

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✧ the gambler and his knight.

aventurine can't stand having his outfit exposed to the elements nor to the rude hands of clients that won't cooperate – luckily for him, he has you to take care of it all. { aventurine with a bodyguard!reader. }

⎯ fluff & angst. 2.9k wc. headcanons w/ some written scenes. the plot is vv subtle but it's there a.k.a aventurine simps for you (jokingly) but you both end up catching feelings (not jokingly). mentions of violence, death & russian roulette. pre-penacony timeline. a self-indulgent piece to celebrate this blog's 2nd anniv! ★

★ 〜 masterlist.

aventurine who graciously welcomes you under his employment with a game. just a little something to ease your nerves and get you used to his ways. you look at him with such incredulity as if he just fell and hit his head silly. he pays no mind to this – finds it to be amusing a great deal, actually. keep it up, newcomer!

“heads or tails?” he asks, flipping a coin in the air and catching it seamlessly. a routine for him, you would've figured from the sight. “that's. . . an odd way of saying hello,” you point out but your tone bears no hint of protest. he notices that.

“i've heard that one before,” aventurine tilts his head with a smile, nonchalant. “so what's your guess?”

“tails,” you reply without any delay. it's a mindless answer; getting it wrong this way would prove to bear less disappointment compared to putting actual thought in it. “heads for me then,” he whistles.

aventurine opens his palm. it's heads. you frown as if to suspect foul play—but you don't because you know about his notoriously good luck—and your new boss chuckles, almost placatingly.

“looks like i win,” he grins without a care in the world at all. “aren't you starving? let's fetch ourselves a meal, friend.”

a loss rewarded with a prize? you blink. with grace so in contrast to the whiplash you feel, aventurine walks past you with a trail of expensive perfume in his wake. obviously, he expects you to follow and you do after a moment's reluctance.

(this guy is more confusing than the stellaron.)

aventurine who grows quite fond of seeing you acquiesce to his wishes, whether serious or trivial. could you ward off those reporters? could you pour him a drink? could you play a game of poker with him? could you join him for lunch? you're always so professional that he starts to find some mirth in pushing your buttons (never too much). unlucky for you, he does it to be affectionate and lucky for him, you always say yes even if you roll your eyes every single time.

aventurine who trusts you with his credit card. . . to a worrying degree. when asked if he's sure about this, he just waves it off and says it'll be safer in your hands. seriously, this card has been in your possession longer than it's ever been in his. sometimes, he does ask for it back – only to drop some 200k credits to your account. “a tip for doing a good job,” he'd wink casually while you're flabbergasted beyond belief.

aventurine who finds it extremely attractive whenever you step in to protect him from harm. dealing with uncooperative clients is a day in his life, yet some are so brutish they resort to getting physical – but he has you to make sure their hands stay off him. a gun in his direction? knocked off before the trigger even has a chance to get pulled. reaching out to grab him by the collar? they're already on the ground, your foot threateningly pressed on their back as a warning. what a dashing sight – and thanks to you, his pristine outfit has been saved more times than he could count at this point.

aventurine who likes to call you his “knight in shining armor” teasingly. awh, you don't like it? he thinks you're more than deserving of that title with the way you always swoop in to get him out of trouble. if the thousands of credits he gives you aren't enough yet, won't a cute title suffice? “it sounds corny,” you tell him with a grimace—and maybe, yes—but he just chirps coyly, “dunno. i think it's fitting.”

aventurine who makes it his responsibility to check on you after a rough mission. credits are no problem, he'd even reserve the most expensive private doctor in the cosmos if that means you'll recover faster. sadly, he has little to no medical skills – so the most he can offer you is bandages. sure, you can take a bullet to the stomach and handle a punch or two, that's your job, but what about tiny scratches? . . .don't tell him you're about to reject his kind offer.

“what's your favorite color?” he queries, somewhat out of the blue considering the situation where he is helping you tend to a minor cut on your finger. you raise an eyebrow, “why do you wanna know?” as he gently plasters a plain-colored bandage on your skin (which he's only been granted permission to after minutes of begging you to let him do it).

“for the bandages,” aventurine answers. he finds no need to hide his intentions as he runs a thumb over the bandage, softly as to not hurt you, to keep its position secure. “so that the next time you ask, i'll have some in your favorite color for sure.”

“how. . . thoughtful of you,” you snort, amused.

(briefly, he resists the urge to ask if he can place a kiss on your cut for 'luck'. but if he does, you might have his head. so, he'll try another time.)

aventurine who slowly begins to find a sense of comfort in your company. maybe, it's the way you scoff at his quips with a smile or the way you always tell him to be careful. maybe, it's the way you take him seriously or the way you stay by his side—is your job description the only reason why?—or maybe, he's just pathetic and reeks of so much loneliness you feel sympathetic. he can't tell, but he hopes the luxuries he has can persuade you to stay just a little longer. even if you don't actually care. (you do.)

aventurine who notices how anxiety brims in your gaze when you watch him gamble at the table – with a sum too high to be considered sane and sometimes, his own life. he can see it all; how your hands shake as if you want to reach out, how your lips tremble as if you want to tell him to stop. but this is what he's made for, is it not? he'll survive one way or another. . . until fate decides the bill for all his past good fortune is finally due. and when the time comes, he'll be ready for it. (will you?)

a game of russian roulette.

it always starts with thrills only to end with carnage spilled all over the table. luck is the only thing worth praying for at that point and oh, is luck not the dearest friend aventurine ever had? hence the reason why he always agrees, not with a yes but with a “why not?”.

you're there as his protector yet, utterly condemned to the role of a witness as soon as aventurine nods along to that darned game. panic rushes through your veins as the gun is passed around so relaxedly, so easily with laughter all around. aventurine's next in line, you realize grimly. the next decision that comes after is spontaneous, so different from your usual calculated nature – you drag him out of the casino in a frenzy before the weapon even lands in his hand. in your head, there is no other thought louder than: he could've died.

“a shame i didn't get to the fun part,” you hear him hum from behind you, too disturbingly calm for your liking. the bustling noises inside the establishment have all but faded into the background. “that was close, hm?” he laughs, a sound you would've found endearing if this was another occasion. any occasion that doesn't involve teetering dangerously on the precipice of death.

you stop in your tracks and aventurine, behind you, naturally follows. your silence is something he first takes note of and the way your hand shakes as it holds his is the second. you still haven't let go. what's going through your mind? he calls out your name softly, perplexed at your lack of explanation.

“. . .why did you say yes?” you respond with a bitter question. “you could've died. you almost died,” you try to hold back a shout – yet, your words are spat in such a fusillade he feels a seed of guilt starting to bloom inside his lifeless heart. he discards it in favor of putting on a frivolous smile.

“oh, relax,” he lets out a chuckle, one that sounds so ignorant of the taut tension in the air. “it's just some russian roulette. why so serious?” he shrugs as if to physically brush off any seriousness clinging to his figure. his remark gives off the assumption that every single hint of your worry has flown over his head.

“it is serious. . .” you bite your bottom lip. he sneers in return, “yeah? since when?” as if to challenge you to give an actual answer. his life is full of risks, to say otherwise would be a lie. “you're sweet for worrying but you don't actually care about me that much, do you?” he snickers to himself. like the thought of your caring about him can't possibly be true, like it's all just a terrible joke.

but he's the only one laughing.

aventurine falls quiet and finally, genuinely meets your gaze for the first time that night. he doesn't like what he sees. your lips are downturned, unamused and saddened—you do care, a realization that has been left unsaid—and all remainders of levity in him are replaced by immediate dread. it only now registers that the anger, concern, frustration on your face is for him; they're the unavoidable consequences from caring about him.

(his eyes widen. no, no, no.)

“c'mon, you—” he covers it up with a carefree smile, as feigned as it came. he shoves his hand in one of his pockets. it's shaking. “. . .worry too much. you've seen me play a handful of games before. i've never lost a wager, remember?”

you don't look convinced at all. in fact, you look as if you've arrived at the brink of seething. “and if you do? for once in your life, you lose?” you prod him for more. for something, for anything – perhaps, for a promise that he won't do it again.

(but you know aventurine, you know there would be no such promise.)

“then i lose,” he says, final and resigned. “there's really nothing else to it,” he tries to offer you another smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “hey. at least, you'll be there to witness my spectacular fall, right? it'll be a show to remember.”

he nearly doesn't manage to keep up the façade. it's already as precarious as it can be. you don't reply to him this time – instead, you let go of his hand to wipe at your cheeks. his gaze trails after your fingers and it freezes upon seeing the pearly tears falling free from your eyes.

aventurine has never seen you cry before. you're always so stone-faced, so hard to break that he recalls almost cheering when he heard you laugh for the first time. that was when you finally won a round of poker against him. a pity, he would've reminisced about the memory more. . . if only the matter of losing and winning a game isn't as serious as it is now.

“don't say that,” you mutter, harshly wiping away at the incessant tears pouring from your eyes more than you'd ever allow them to. some make their way into your mouth, they taste just as bitter as your current frustration. does he truly value his life so little? you can't fathom it, you can't fathom him at all.

but there is one thing you were certain of, at the very least: “you hired me to protect you,” you shake your head unrelentingly, “so i'll do it. until you throw me away, i won't let you die.”

you've stopped crying then. aventurine feels remorse; the tears that you shed because of him are starting to dry. the selfish part of him wants to reach out and brush them away with his thumb – but would you let him? would this lead you further down the rabbit hole that is him? in the end, he decides against it.

“. . .i'm sorry,” he sighs instead, raking a hand through his messy blond hair. whatever it is he is apologizing for, he doesn't have a clue either. he lets his eyes slip shut. he can't bear to look at you, can't bear to look at his pitiful reflection in your eyes.

(he's not worth caring about, can't you see? he dances hand in hand with death – there is no need to subject yourself to being a spectator.)

the two of you then part ways that night with shallow pleasantries on your tongues. no inside jokes, no evident yearning for the other to stay, no more than an awkward exchange of “i'll see you tomorrow.”

on his way 'home', regret and relief clash to form something inexplicably hollow inside kakavasha's chest. he wanted to wipe away your tears—what a regret—but if he did, they would've burned on his skin and became another mark to haunt him—what a relief he didn't. and frankly, if destiny is about to reap his debt, he'd rather go with no regrets at all.

whether those regrets include you? he doesn't have an answer just yet.

(the name at the bottom of his contract with fate is signed as kakavasha. but you wouldn't recognize that name. not as him, at least.)

aventurine whose eyes can't flutter close at night ever since thoughts of you fill his mind more than they already do before. you care for him, you want him to live—all his fault, he allowed himself to get too close—but these realizations are rooted in too deep and refuse to leave. what to do, what to do, what to do?

it isn't supposed to turn out like this.

what he and you have is meant to be transactional; he'd be spared from unnecessary scuffles and you'd be compensated with monetary payment. he means to keep it superficially fun; for him to tease you with jests—so you'd stay and save him from the deafening silence in his head—and for you to dismiss him with that adorably annoyed look on your face. just some silly banter, that's it.

so then, since when are there rounds of poker where he'd coo over your frown when you lost? or the sound of your lecturing after he secretly got you a high-end item? or meals shared together where you'd bicker over the bill? or bandages in your favorite color kept inside his bedside table? since when do you start to care? . . .since when does he start to care?

think of something else.

kakavasha tosses and turns in his bed, but the soft pillows and blanket do nothing to quell these bothers of his. are feelings always this complicated? he places a hand over his eyes, tired and exhausted, and stares at the ceiling as if it could provide him with an answer.

but there's no use.

in a moment void of logical thinking, he reaches for his phone and hovers a finger over your name in his contacts. he is usually good friends with bad ideas – but not this time, he sets his phone down and lets out a frustrated sigh that only his expensive pillows are there to hear.

(for gaiathra's sake, he hasn't even told you his real name yet.)

aventurine who becomes awfully distant the next time he sees you. you accompany him to meetings with clients per usual, but it's different. . . he talks to you succinctly, not verbosely with that trademark grin of his. his face is bereft of the things you grow to like seeing on him. a sincere smile instead of one just for show, for example. but even that's difficult to ask for since he only speaks to fill the silence with empty chatter. he doesn't look you in the eyes either; you feel a pang of hurt, you've always loved his eyes.

aventurine who discards all thoughts of you as soon as he steps inside pier point to be assigned a project. a conclave between the stonehearts is a matter of top confidentiality and you, dutifully, are ordered to wait for him outside the office. though, he'll admit; your absence by his side actually does leave a gaping void—such hypocrisy, really—but at least, those pesky voices in his head know how to shut up when it comes to work.

“penacony. . . is diamond finally ready to do something about it?”

aventurine rests his left hand on the small of his back, fiddling with the clubs-shaped detailing on the fabric there. it looks like an act of idleness from afar, but anyone observant enough would know it's a way to subdue whatever nerves he wishes to hide.

he waits for the person in front of him, gazing at the purplish-red sky of pier point at sunset, to speak. for their next words shall mark the start of his next journey in fate's course.

aventurine who hesitates to let you come to penacony with him at first. but it'd be poor reasoning not to, since some might have a bone to pick with him as the corporation's representative. . . and he knows you'll protest to come with anyway. fine then, situationship discomfiture be damned – not even a second after he steps out of the meeting, his neon eyes finally meet yours. “so, how does a trip to penacony sound?” he announces with a confident smile. you blink, noticing how his lips are wobbling at the sides. you don't say no, however. (if only the two of you know what sort of ride you're getting yourselves into.)

— thanks for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. why don't we all sob over this man like it's a cryfest ♡

#hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #—stellaronhvnters.#honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x you #hsr headcanons #hsr imagines #hsr fluff #hsr angst #seelestial.inks

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charlottes-diary-entries · 3 days

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hi lovely!! can i please get a poly!marauders x fem reader where she’s always shy to ask for attention and maybe she just really wants them to smother her in cuddles and all (not as if they dont already) so she tries to discreetly cozy up to them at any given opportunity and they notice and they’re all like heck if its attention you want then its damn attention you’ll get

THANK YOU <33

apologies for how ridiculously late this is, life STAYS busy, but of course you can have that lovely! i hope you enjoy :) <3

"cuddle puddles" 1.3 k words, poly!marauders (remus centric) x reader, extremely fluffy <3

The last few months had felt like absolute heaven for you. Classes were going swimmingly, you'd won several points for your house, and generally felt like you were walking on air.

Not to mention, you were just plain in love.

The Marauders were well known for their boisterous and loving nature, but experiencing it first hand was entirely different. Ever since they'd woven you into their lives, there wasn't a moment you'd felt lost. Everything clicked. Always you had someone to turn to, someone to heal, someone to hold. The "Honeymoon" phase felt endless.

Constantly you would find yourself swept into James's arms in the halls, or Remus would be waiting to walk you to your next class hand in hand. The way Sirius would hang off of you often turned into a gentle lecture about how "most people don't like seeing couples snogging in the halls, so lets keep our hands in PG places, Sirius!"

All too often, however, it would also be a matter of dropping hint after hint after hint to your boys that you wanted more.

It really wasn't their fault at all! It just seemed like whenever you craved more attention, you'd tense up. Words escaped you and all you could do was stare and shuffle and pray they'd read your mind.

The unfortunate piece of the matter, however, was that now happened to be one of those times.

Sat upon a soft red blanket laid out across the grass, you let your eyes fall shut against the calm afternoon. A soft breeze brushed your cheek as you inhaled. Despite the sound of Sirius and James arguing over Quidditch players, all you could feel was complete and utter peace. With a delightful picnic settled in your stomach and your boys surrounding you everything was nearly right in the world.

A quiet chuckle emanated from Remus, who was sat next to you, and the sound of shuffling about reached you next. One of your eyes slipped open to observe Remus's new position before shutting and shifting accordingly to be seated directly next to him.

You did not see the fond smile that graced his face as he looked at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling at the sight of you so relaxed. Sirius and James were now settling somewhat.

"What's on your mind, dovey?"

A low hum left you as you opened your eyes to find his, which made you smile just the same as he was.

"Nothing much."

"Nothing at all?"

"Nothing at all."

He couldn't resist leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your cheek before returning to his spot. As he pulled back, you leaned to follow him, before righting yourself. The corner of your lips tugged down before turning to watch Sirius now flirt and paw at James, no doubt in an attempt to sway his opponent to his side. It seemed to be working.

Quietly, you pressed yourself against Remus's side and leaned your head on his shoulder. He let his head fall on top of yours in response. This began to return a smile to your face.

"You sure there's nothing on your mind?"

"Entirely confident."

Nothing but you, you thought, but did not say.

He turned his head to press a kiss to your temple before wrapping an arm around your waist to ensure you were pressed against him. James now realized Sirius's goal and was playfully chastising him for using his "beautiful face" against him. You turned your face into Remus's shoulder.

"Right, it's just you seem awfully touchy, and-"

"Remus."

"I'll drop it! I'll drop it... Only if you can tell me honestly there's nothing more I can do for you."

"Remus!"

You flushed and pulled fully away from him this time, arms fully crossing and mouth down-turned into a pout. A crinkly, bittersweet feeling filled your heart as James gave in and let Sirius smother him. He pressed kiss after kiss after kiss to the seeker's face and eventually got him pinned to the ground in what must've been the largest and sweetest hug in history. Remus then gently coaxed your hand away from you and into his, making you lift your gaze to meet his concerned one.

"Please sweet thing," He began, running a soothing finger over your knuckles, "Tell me what's wrong? Watching you fret is making me fret and that can't be very good for either of us."

With a quiet sigh, you twisted your hand to intertwine your fingers and squeeze at his palm. He squeezed back.

"I just... find it embarrassing."

"What embarrassing?"

You felt your face warm even more as you groaned and dragged your free hand against your cheek. A mental search began to find the words you needed to explain to Remus that really nothing is wrong at all and in fact you just felt completely repressed about the whole affection thing.

"The whole... Well..." You huffed, squeezing his hand again. Now, Remus was nothing but the epitome of patience for you. "You know how you all love me so much? And you show a lot of that love through- through touch?"

At this Remus paused, worry pooling in his eyes as he inched away from you. He even began to drop your hand. "We haven't made you uncomfortable, have we love?"

"No- No, no, no, that's not it at all, in fact, I really, really wish you'd-"

A pause in your minor panic over correcting him. Any kind of words fled your mind and you settled for simply squeezing his hand yet again, feeling completely miserable about your inability to actually pursue what you wanted with confidence.

However, your misery was short lived as a light bulb seemed to go off in Remus's head and he tugged you close again, this time pulling you right onto his lap to face him. He smiled and pulled your face into his hands.

"Dovey, do you just want us to be more affectionate?"

This returned your smile, albeit awkward, as you nodded your head. Remus beamed and pulled you in for a sweet kiss before holding you tightly against him, his head resting on your shoulder. He began to speak when-

"Oi! What are you two doing over there?"

Your sweet moment was semi-interrupted by Sirius who came towards the two of you with a freshly kissed grin. He knelt next you both and pressed warm kisses to both of your heads. James followed not far behind him and laid down on your other side, completely sprawled out and grinning like a fool.

"Just making sure dovey gets all the love and attention they deserve," said Remus, who now turned his head into your neck to press a kiss there. "Apparently we've been neglecting the poor thing."

"I did not say neglect-"

Your protest was cut short, however, by a gasping Sirius. He all but body slammed you off of Remus, who only rolled his eyes, and on top of James, who let out a loud "whoof" sound at the sudden attack. Despite the wind knocked out of him, he didn't entirely seem to mind and quickly began to rub your arm with a pout.

"Is everything alright, lovie?"

"Everything is fine."

"Of course it is, now that we know you just need some extra holding," Remus teased, shifting Sirius off of him only to join him in hugging you on top of James, who was continuing to take the impromptu cuddle pile in his lap very, very well.

"If it's affection you want, dove, it is affection you shall have!" Sirius declared, before beginning to press kiss after kiss to your face, much in the same manner he had done to James. A sweet giggle escaped you before he eventually settled, content to hold you and Remus while James presided over all three of you, running his free hand through Remus's hair.

A little while later, after you all had been resting together and holding each other for quite a while, James's gentle voice broke the silence.

"I like this. We should do cuddle puddles more often."

You couldn't agree more.

#poly!marauders x you #marauders x reader #poly!marauders x reader #marauders reader insert #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x reader #wolfstar x reader #james potter x reader

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7ndipity · 3 days

Text

Time For You

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Just a lil blurb about Yoongi surprising his S/o at work bc he’s a softie.

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks to my lovely ⭐ anon for this request! It’s a lil short, but I hope you like it!💜

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It had been one of those work days that seemed to drag on longer than normal. Nothing was particularly wrong, it wasn’t any busier or more hectic than usual, but you were still acutely aware of the hours seeming to creep by at a glacial pace.

‘Just a little longer’, You promised yourself. Just a few more hours and you would be home, in your cozy apartment with your warm bed and your sweet boyfriend, who you planned to cuddle within an inch of his life as soon as you saw him.

As if summoned by your thoughts, one of your co-workers came over as you were finishing up helping a customer, sporting a knowing grin.

“Hey, Y/n? There’s a guy over there that says he’s going to start crying if you don’t look at him?” She said, nodding off to the side.

Glancing up in confusion, you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as your eyes landed on a familiar figure standing over near the door. His face was partially hidden by the hat that he tugged down , but you could recognized that sheepish, little grin anywhere

You quickly switched places with your co-worker before practically sprinting over to Yoongi, half tackling him in a hug.

“What are you doing here?!” You exclaimed, trying to keep your voice low to avoid drawing attention, but unable to hide your happiness at his sudden appearance.

“We were filming a few blocks over, so I thought I’d come by on my way home and check on you.” He said, glancing up at you shyly.

“Aww, were you worried about me?” You grinned, reaching up to cup his face. “You big softie.”

“Don’t make me regret it.” He groaned, trying to squirm out of your hold.

“Hey, you were the one threatening to cause a scene because I wouldn’t look at you.” You chuckled.

He grumbled out something you couldn’t make out before holding out a small bag to you. “I also brought this, but if you’re gonna be weird about it-”

You quickly snatched the bag away before he could finish, peeking inside at the contents before looking back up at him in surprise.

“You brought me cookies?” You questioned.

“I happened to pass that bakery you like on my way here, no big deal.” He shrugged.

You said nothing, staring up at him as he tried to hide the growing flush in his cheeks.

“What?” He asked after a moment.

“You love me.” You grinned.

He huffed.

“It took cookies for you to realize that?” He asked dryly, fiddling with the edge of his hat, a habit of his that you had come to know meant he was embarrassed or flustered.

“No, but it’s a nice reminder.” You said. “It’s nice when you make time for little things like this.”

“I’ll always make time for you.” He answered softly, the sudden sincerity in his tone catching you off guard.

Yoongi had always had a way of pulling your heartstrings with just a few words, even before you had started dating, a simple comment like “I miss you” had been enough to cause your heart to skip a beat before taking off at high speed.

As much as you liked to tease him for being whipped for you, you were just as down bad for him.

You suddenly remembered you were standing in the middle of your workplace, clearing your throat awkwardly.

“I- uh, I have to get back to work.” You said quickly.

He nodded, understanding.

“I’ll see you at home.” He said, stepping away, but you followed, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“I love you too.” You said softly, stepping back. “Thank you for the cookies.”

“You’re welcome.” He said, his cheeks flushed fully red.

“I’ll see you later.” You promised.

“See you later.” He repeated, turning quickly and heading for the exit.

You caught him giving a quick glance back at you from the door, sending you a little wave before ducking out, leaving you stood grinning after him.

“He’s really something special, isn’t he?” Your co-worker commented, watching you with an amused expression. “My boyfriend never does stuff like that.”

“Yeah,” You agreed. “He really is something special.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @universal-travel-er @bo0o0o0ooo @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

#yoongi scenarios #yoongi blurb #yoongi fluff #yoongi drabble #yoongi oneshot #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts requests #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts blurbs #7ndipity #⭐anon

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deanstead · 2 days

Text

Welcome Home

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Requested: Yes, by anon

Summary: Sam gets an unexpected call from Y/N, which brings another surprise for Dean

Word Count: 2.7K

Tags/Warnings: Dad!Dean, canon-typical mentions of blood/violence

A/N: In my "everything i write sucks" era but thanks to @seatsbythepit for her consistent beta services! I think this was in my inbox for a (long) while so I finally got this out!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST

Sam frowned, glancing at his phone where it was lighting up with an incoming call from a number he didn’t know.

Not many people had this number, so he picked up warily, as Dean looked up.

“Hello?”

There was a short silence on the other end of the line before a familiar voice reached his ears.

“Sam?”

Sam froze.

“Y/N?”

Dean sat up straighter, his eyes flicking toward his brother but Sam wasn’t paying attention.

It had been more than 2 years since you’d left and not a day had gone by that Dean didn’t blame himself for it. Sometimes, when he lay in bed at night, the last fight still haunted him - the look in your eyes when those hurtful words had cut across the room, the defeated sound in your voice as you looked him in the eyes and told him that if that’s what he thought of you, there was no point to all this.

After you left, he’d spent too many days staring at your name in his lists of contacts, his thumb hovering over the call button. The days ticked by, and soon it was way too late for Dean to call or reach out so he was left with replaying the last conversation you’d ever had like he needed to torture himself to make up for the hurt.

“Where are you?” Sam’s voice pulled Dean out of his thoughts and he frowned. That was never a good sign.

Sam spoke in a low voice before he nodded and hung up.

Dean stared at his younger brother as Sam stood, pausing as his eyes flicked toward Dean who was watching intently.

“Dean, she…”

Dean nodded, his eyes flicking back downward. “Yeah, I don’t blame her.”

“Look, why don’t you help from here, alright? I’ll make sure she’s alright.” Sam said, although he knew it must be killing Dean.

“Yeah, just let me know what you need,” Dean responded, failing to hide the slight dejection in his voice as Sam left.

“Sammy.”

His name flowed off your lips the moment you opened the door, feeling familiar yet foreign at the same time. Yet, it was really good to see him.

Sam just smiled, enveloping you in a tight hug the way only an older brother would. “It’s good to see you.”

You nodded, smiling.

“You flying solo?” Sam asked, frowning.

You shook your head. “I’m not hunting. Not really. We were just passing through and I wanted to just run, but I… I couldn’t. Now, my friend’s sister is missing and I just…”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Wait. We?”

You gave him a guilty smile. “That’s why I called.” You paused before continuing. “And why I asked you to come alone. I didn’t think I should surprise Dean out here.”

Sam gave you a confused look and you exhaled slowly.

Without saying anything more, you led Sam into the room, as his eyes fell upon a two-year-old kid. A kid who was unmistakably Dean’s son as he gripped a miniature Impala car in his hand where he was sitting on the ground.

Sam looked at you in surprise.

You nodded. “This is Leo.”

It was probably a Winchester thing but Leo took to Sam almost immediately despite the fact he never let anyone else but you carry him for the past two years.

You remembered how he’d wail in the doctor's or nurse’s arms but he seemed perfectly content sitting in Uncle Sammy’s arms now, playing with Sam’s hair.

“I was gonna get a friend to watch him, but if he likes you so much…”

Sam looked at you like you were crazy. “You’re not going alone.”

You exhaled slowly and nodded, like you’d already expected this answer from him.

Instead, Sam asked to review the information you had. It felt almost like the good old days, as you watched Sam pore over the notes you had at the small desk at the motel, the only thing different being that Dean wasn’t here and you had a two-year-old who’d fallen asleep in your arms.

You knew Sam was planning to call Dean when he left to get dinner but you pretended like you didn’t, busying yourself with preparing Leo’s meal.

When Sam returned with food for the both of you, you glanced at him and he nodded. “Yeah, I called Dean. Look, you know the research there is helpful. It won’t hurt.”

You shrugged. “I didn’t say anything.”

Sam glanced up at you. “What’s the plan, Y/N? Why didn’t you tell him? Or me?”

You glanced over your shoulder at where Leo was sleeping soundly and sighed softly. “I don’t know. I guess… I guess Dean and I never really had the talk. I didn’t know where he stood with regards to having kids, especially in this life.”

You paused, looking up at Sam momentarily before continuing. “Besides, we’d broken up. I thought he’d try to come and get me but… well, he didn’t. By the time I found out I was pregnant, too much time had passed and I didn’t know how to tell him.”

Sam nodded quietly, letting you continue.

“But I got out. I didn’t let Leo into this part of our life. Until today. And I hate it that he’s here when there’s a nest of fucking vamps right here. I didn’t…”

Sam reached out and squeezed your shoulder. “You were right to call. No matter what, it never hurts to have someone looking out for you.”

You smiled. “Well, I’m glad it’s you…”

“And Dean. Sorta.” You added after a small silence.

The conversation was cut short by Sam’s phone and he quickly answered it. “Anything good?”

You could hear the crackle of Dean’s voice and you felt your heart give a jolt. A jolt that didn’t exactly surprise you. Of course, how could you ever get over Dean Winchester?

You could vaguely hear Dean giving Sam some additional information before Sam hung up, glancing at you.

“You sure about this, Y/N?”

You glanced at Leo before nodding. You planted a firm kiss on Leo’s head, nodding to your friend, Samantha.

“Don’t worry. Sam’s great at what he does. We’ll figure this out.”

She nodded back at you, assuring you that Leo was in safe hands.

It was your first hunt in a long while, but being a hunter seemed to already be a part of your DNA.

Armed with the information that Dean had dug up, you and Sam managed to infiltrate the nest, easily lopping heads of vampires off as they were caught off-guard. You were glad Sam was there to have your back, especially when you both made your way to the dead center of the nest.

“Sharon?” You kept your voice low.

You headed to where she was huddled in the corner. You didn’t know Sharon well but you’d met once or twice when you’d come up here to meet Samantha.

“Y/N?”

Her voice shook slightly.

You nodded. “Yeah. I promised Samantha I’d bring you home.”

Sharon looked around, her eyes flicking to a dead body lying to the side. “They’re…”

You shook your head at Sharon. “Sharon, look at me. We’re going to get you home alright? Trust me.”

“Come on, Y/N.” Sam urged gently.

Of course, you knew hunts never went that smoothly.

A growl alerted you that a vamp had joined you and your body stiffened, the grip on the machete in your hand tightening.

“Sam, get her out of here.”

“Y/N.” Sam’s voice was stressed and you recognized it, the struggle between leaving you here and taking Sharon to safety.

“I’ll be fine.” You assured him, glancing back at the new arrival.

Sam didn’t answer but you knew the exact moment when he took Sharon and left, their footsteps seeming to echo as they got further away.

“You hunters are the real monsters.” The vampire droned, staring at you. “Here we are, just trying to survive and you break into our home and kill my entire family.”

You tried to stifle the sarcastic laughter that was at the tip of your tongue.

“That’s rich coming from you.”

You knew it was coming before the vampire twitched, and you swung your machete upward as he rushed toward you.

The vampire sidestepped, missing the machete by inches as it growled, even more determined to get you.

You stepped back again as it lunged at you, your heart sinking as you felt yourself lose your footing.

Fuck.

You rolled out of the way but the vampire was too quick, pouncing upon you.

You raised your machete but it was too close, the machete inching closer toward you as the vampire bared its fangs at you.

You held onto a single thought. You had to get home to Leo.

Then, as if by sheer willpower, the unmistakable sound of a blade swishing through the air before the vampire’s head rolled off its shoulders.

“Dean?”

Dean had lasted all of five minutes after the last call with Sam before he’d muttered a “screw this” to himself and torn his way out of the bunker and down to where Sam and you were.

You were still stunned as Dean rolled what was left of the vampire off you and helped you up.

“You alright? Are you hurt?” Dean’s eyes studied you, unable to differentiate if the blood on you was the result of any injuries you might have sustained before he’d arrived.

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

The atmosphere sank into awkwardness as the both of you stood there now in silence.

“Sorry, Y/N. I know you wanted me to sit this one out, but I…”

You shook your head and interrupted him. “No, I… Thanks, Dean.”

You fell back into silence, both of you walking out toward the exit to Sam.

“God, Y/N!” Sharon’s stressed voice made her way to you first but you didn’t miss the surprised look Sam gave his brother even as you were assuring Sharon you weren’t hurt.

You looked up to see Dean quietly heading to the Impala, and before you could think through your next move, you were running toward him.

“Dean.”

Dean paused and turned to look at you.

You took a deep breath. “We need to talk.”

There was a look in Dean’s eyes that sat somewhere between confusion and intrigue.

You looked down at your blood-stained clothes and smiled. “Give me a few hours and I’ll come meet you at the bunker?”

The words rolled off your tongue feeling foreign yet welcoming at the same time.

“The bunker?” Dean asked.

You shrugged. “Or wherever you guys want. If you don’t want me there.”

Dean shook his head. “That’s not what I…” He paused before continuing. “See you there.”

You watched the Impala drive off before you turned back to look at Sam, who had a small smile on his face, and you knew he’d heard everything.

You’d delivered Sharon safely back to Samantha, who hadn’t asked any questions, just glad to see her sister again. and you even managed to shower and change before Leo even noticed you and Sam were gone.

Now, Sam pulled up outside the bunker and you took a deep breath.

“Ready?” Sam asked softly.

You gave a short laugh. “Never.”

You felt everything at the same time as you took Leo in your arms and walked into the bunker, the memories seeming to hit you all at once - the way this place made you feel, the laughter in your head that belonged to a memory of the three of you as you sat in Dean's embrace.

Even if this was the same place where things had ended, it was the happy memories that followed you as you walked down the stairs now.

Dean stepped out of the kitchen, freezing in his footsteps.

His eyes took in the sight before him, a kid that looked like a carbon copy of himself except for the eyes that were undoubtedly yours.

“Y/N…”

You cleared your throat and exhaled.

“Hey Leo, let’s go find you some snacks,” Sam said, reaching his hands out for Leo.

Leo cracked a smile and allowed Sam to pick him out of your arms. “Pie!”

Sam glanced over at Dean, unable to hide a chuckle. “I’m sure we have that.”

The silence that followed was almost loud as Dean looked at you in disbelief and you cleared your throat. “Let’s talk.”

Dean led the way into the library, unsure if he should be pissed or happy to see you.

You leaned against one of the tables, as Dean looked back at you.

“Sorry.” You said quietly, looking down. You knew Dean had every right to be angry and you braced yourself for the rise in his voice but nothing came.

You glanced up at him again, meeting the green eyes you’d sorely missed.

Met with Dean’s silence you spoke again. “I didn’t know how to tell you. By the time I found out about it, too much time had passed since the last time we spoke. I stared at your number but I was afraid. I…” You took another breath. “We never talked about this. I didn’t know if you’d be happy or not and I chickened out.”

“So were you never going to tell me?” Dean finally asked.

You couldn’t really determine the tone of his voice but you shook your head.

“I… I kinda was on the way here.” You said quietly.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up.

“I didn’t really have a plan.” You said. “Part of me thought if I just drove here, I wouldn’t be able to back out anymore. Then, that nest of vamps kidnapped my friend’s sister so I…”

“So you called Sam.” It was a statement.

You gave him a tentative smile. “Didn’t think you’d appreciate seeing Leo without an explanation in the middle of a hunt.”

Dean exhaled slowly.

“So what now?” Dean asked.

You didn’t dare look up at him, afraid your eyes would give you away. The eyes that screamed how you were still in love with him and that you’d missed him every single day that you’d been apart. The way your heart crumbled every time Leo smiled because it reminded you of Dean, and how all you wanted was to be enveloped in those arms again.

Even as those thoughts ran through your mind, you felt the prick of tears because this was exactly why you’d put off telling Dean about Leo.

“I don’t know, D.” You answered quietly.

Your voice cracked slightly and you hoped Dean hadn’t picked up on it.

“Y/N.” He called, forcing you to look up at him, even though the tears blurred your vision.

Dean closed the gap between the both of you, one hand cupping your face as he pressed his lips against yours, his other arm snaking around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“God, I missed you,” Dean whispered, as he pulled away just a little, your faces still pressed together.

You buried your face into his shoulder without saying anything, feeling your tears get absorbed into the shirt he had on.

You needn’t have worried about Leo. You looked at you son clutching the tiny toy Impala while he sat in his father's arms almost triumphantly as they came back in. Dean had brought Leo to see the real thing, and Leo had a ball of a time just sitting in the Impala.

“Mama, can we stay?” Leo asked with anticipation in his voice.

You froze. Dean and you hadn’t talked about anything. He’d kissed you, you’d hugged and then you’d gotten him out of that library to meet his son.

Dean closed the gap between the two of you, putting Leo into a giant hug between the both of you before he reached out for your hand.

“Stay,” Dean said quietly.

You glanced up at him.

“I’m not going to lose you again.” Dean added, squeezing your hand gently. “Not for anything in the world.”

The words felt stuck in your throat, but you glanced at Leo and smiled. “Yeah, we’re staying with Daddy and Uncle Sammy.”

Dean leaned forward to press a quick kiss to your lips amidst Leo's triumphant yells.

Sam moved forward to press you into a hug. “Welcome home, Y/N.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

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Character taglists are open, hit me up if you would like to be added!

#dean winchester x reader #resa.fics #dean winchester #supernatural #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester oneshot #resa's requests #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #spn oneshot #dad!dean #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n

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somanyratsinthewalls · 1 day

Note

Congratulations on 700 followers Mo 😖💗....I really LOVE reading your fanfics☺️

I was kindly requesting Navy hummingbird and sloth please

Eeeek thank you so much for reading! I hope you like this one! (Honestly? I kind of wrote this with the thought of it being Burning Hearts, my Law series, adjacent.) Needy Law is so cuuuuute!

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Prompt/Trope: Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac x Somnophilia

WC: 1900

Warnings: oral, sex pollen affects, somnophilia without discussion but let’s assume they have (don’t worry we’re cool!) unprotected sex, p in v sex, prone bone, creampies and breeding baby!

Happy Anniversary, Baby (18+)

— —

Law was a composed man. Over time, you had managed to worm your way through his hardened exterior to reach his nerdy, compassionate, caring center. Even as he opened up to you, he was still methodical about most things, including sex. He had the motions to make you orgasm down to a science at this point, making sure you were pleased far more than worrying about his own release. He always pulled out. He was the doctor who prescribed your birth control for god’s sake but he insisted on being careful anyway. Even if you begged him to finish inside, he was stubborn. You would never complain about your relationship with Law, he was just the way you liked him.

Law was up early one morning going over paperwork at his desk. He couldn’t sleep any longer and didn’t want to wake you from your peaceful slumber by tossing and turning, so he decided to get some work done.

After an hour or so of being engrossed in his work, Law glances at the calendar hanging on his office wall. Todays date had little pink hearts drawn around it in gel pen, by your hand of course.

“Oh shit.”

Law had forgotten about your anniversary.

He had to think of something fast, preferably before you woke up. You were always telling him he worked too much so he couldn’t imagine the ass-chewing he would receive if you found out he forgot your anniversary.

“Flowers…” He mumbles as he rises from his desk and leaves his office. He headed down the hall to the large closet you had converted into a makeshift greenhouse for your beloved hydroponic garden.

He rips open the metal door and is hit in the face with moist air and the refreshing smell of greenery. The walls and center of the room were completely covered in carefully curated small plants, vegetables, flowers, and ferns. Law steps in and closes the door behind him.

“She likes yellow…” Law mutters to himself as he finds himself overwhelmed by all the flowers around him. He was a doctor, not a botanist, he had no idea what any of these plants were so he just decided to choose something in your favorite color.

He walked up to a large bush on the left side of the room that had unique-looking yellow flowers blossoming all over it. He thought this would be as good as any so he reached out his hand to pluck at the stem of one of the blooms.

Just as he wrapped his tattooed fingers around the plant, the flower released a puff of yellow pollen right in his face. Law jerks backwards. The particles fly up into his sinuses and causes an uncomfortable tickle.

“Ah- ACHOO!” Law sneezes violently which triggers the rest of the flowers on the bush to release their own supply of pollen into the air, clouding his vision and irritating his nose further.

Law covers his face and rubs his eyes, trying to brush any remaining flower pollen off of him.

“Must be some kind of natural defense mechanism… fuck that.” Law gripes as he wipes the last remnants of the pollen from his tired face.

Law catches his breath and chooses to abandon this particular, aggravating plant. He spies a rosebush in the corner of the room. He knows what those are for sure, and as long as he doesn’t prick himself on the thorns, it should be less of a challenge to harvest them.

Law walks over to the rosebush and begins snipping off the beautiful yellow blossoms, keeping the stems just long enough to put in a vase. Once he had around a dozen roses, he left the greenhouse room to find suitable container for the flowers in the kitchen.

Rooting around in the kitchen cabinets, Law struggles to find anything nice enough for an anniversary bouquet.

He wipes sweat from his brow and realizes that he’s been having to do it every few moments… why was he so sweaty? Was the boiler on the fritz again? He made a mental note to check the furnace on the ship after he gave you your gift. Law ignores the heat creeping up through him and continues searching the cabinets.

He is pushing coffee mugs aside just as he notices the warm feeling become even more intense. Sweat was beading at his temples.

“Fuck…” Law grunts and abandons his quest briefly so he can pour himself a glass of water. He chugs the entire cup in a few gulps and slams it back onto the kitchen counter. His jeans felt tight now. He looks down. His dick was fully hard, straining against the thick fabric of his pants.

“What the hell…” Law had no idea what was happening to him. He was normally so in control of his faculties, but he now found himself painfully erect for no reason at all. He felt more droplets of sweat trickle down from his scalp to his neck. He grips the countertop and hangs his head, breathing heavily.

It had to be that plant. He had no other logical explanation for the ache in his crotch and the uneasiness he was feeling in his head. The water didn’t help. He needed your help. You knew everything about the plants in there and would know exactly what to do to make the effects stop.

Great, Law thought. Not only did he blow off your anniversary, he might have severely injured himself in the process… once again he wins the “Shittiest Boyfriend in the Grand Line” award. You were going to kill him, and at this point Law was so uncomfortable that he would probably let you. He abandons the flowers strewn across the kitchen counter and heads to your shared bedroom, desperate to find a cure to his ailment but also apprehensive of your reaction to his idiocy.

He pushes open the bedroom door and quietly slips in, so he wouldn’t startle you if you were still sleeping. Before he has a chance to even form the words he wanted to use to explain himself to you, he was stopped in his tracks by your sleeping form.

You had tossed all the covers off your body since Law had left, and you were laying on your back snoozing peacefully. Arms stretched over your head, Law’s bright yellow t-shirt emblazoned with his Jolly Roger was the only article of clothing you had on. You looked so serene, lost in your dreams, little snores escaping your parted dry lips… but Law could only focus on one thing. His t-shirt had ridden up and your thighs were spread, perfectly exposing your naked sex to him.

Law felt his entire heartbeat in his cock now. Your plump, outer pussy lips looked so delicious, so kissable, and all Law could think about now was burying his tongue in you as you slept. Without thinking, Law unzips his pants and steps out of them when they fall to the floor, hissing as his dick finally has more room to breathe. He was no longer in control of himself, he could almost smell you from across the bedroom. He needed to have you now.

He shouldn’t! The last of his sanity was pulling at his brain, begging him to just wake you up and ask you how to diffuse the effects of the flower’s pollen… but your naked cunt before him was just too much to resist any longer.

Still feeling hot, Law strips himself completely, hat included. His hands tremble with need and tension as he tries to delicately settle himself on the bed between your legs, not wanting to wake you up. He would have a small taste and then let you rest… just one little lick…

He couldn’t help it. He immediately latched his whole mouth around your sex and laves his tongue up from the bottom of your hole to the top of your clit.

“Hnnnhhh…” You whimper and shift in your sleep.

“Mmmm…” Law groans into your pussy as your sweet taste helps alleviate some of the pressure he was feeling in his body. He can’t help but hump his hard cock into the mattress below the two of you, no doubt leaking pre and staining the sheets.

Law notices you begin to stir and squirm underneath his touch, so he gently places his hands on your thighs to keep you still while he lapped at your pussy as if he was desperately parched and your body was an oasis. Becoming increasingly aroused, more of your slick leaked out of your hole into Law’s mouth which he greedily slurped up. The familiar flavor of you made his eyes roll back. He needed more.

Law pushes himself up and positions himself on his knees between your legs. He grabs his cock and strokes it a few times harshly before lining himself up with your weeping hole.

“I’m sorry baby…” Law whispers as he pushes himself into you.

“Oh…” You sigh and your eyelids start to flutter.

Without giving you time to wake up, Law sets a punishing pace with his hips and hammers into your wet cunt. Your breasts bounce freely underneath Law’s t-shirt and you rub your eyes involuntarily.

“L-Law?” You sleepily say as you gain consciousness and realize he’s on top of you and balls deep inside of you. You thought you were just having a sex dream but you were shocked to find your partner waking you up with his cock.

“Needed you now… Had to take you… You looked so fucking good and I just couldn’t stop…” Law grunts out as he thrusts into you with everything he has.

“Fuck… feels so good…” You whimper out, sleep still heavy in your mind.

“Shit, I’m gonna-“ Law huffs out before you feel him press hard into you. You then get the unfamiliar feeling of him shooting a heavy load inside of your walls.

“D-did you r-really just-“ You stutter. You feel his member still twitching and hard inside of you.

“Fuck why won’t it go down?” Law grits his teeth.

“W-what?” Before you had time to question him further, Law picks you up by your waist and man handles you onto your stomach, spreading your legs again to make room for him. He pulls your hips up and presses his dick inside you again, your tender hole seeping white liquid out and coating him.

“Shit! Law!” You moan as you feel him hit your favorite spot from behind. He picks up a brutal pace as he fucks you. “S-slow down, babe!” You try to push a hand back on his abs to quell his fervor. “I’m gonna-“

“C-can’t… I can’t! Fuck!” Law huffs as he grips your hips impossibly tight, surely leaving marks. You had never seen this animalistic side of your boyfriend and you couldn’t help how much it turned you on. You felt yourself hurtling towards the edge of orgasm embarrassingly quickly for someone who had just woken up.

“AH!” You yelp into the pillow below you as you cum, hard.

“Yes baby, this pussy is so fucking good, squeezing me so tight…”

You were a babbling mess as Law’s heavy thrusts send you into overstimulation.

“Gotta fucking fill you again, want you to drip for days…”

You whimper in response.

“Yeah you’re mine baby, all mine… gonna stuff you so fucking good… FUCK-“ Law almost shouts as you feel more hot liquid filling your insides, surely leaking out around his member.

Law rides out his second orgasm with a few more deep thrusts before he collapses over you and nuzzles his face between your shoulder blades.

Finally feeling relieved, Law pulls out of you tenderly before flopping on his back next to you on the bed, out of breath. You turn to your side and snuggle into him as he wraps his arms around you.

“Happy Anniversary?” Law says tentatively.

“Happy Anniversary indeed. Was that my present?” You giggle.

“I cut you some flowers, left them in the kitchen, though.” Law says as he strokes your hair.

“Wait… what flowers?!” You raise your voice as your head shoots up off his chest.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece anime #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #one piece smut #law x reader #trafalgar law #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar d law #trafalgar one piece #one piece law #law one piece #law x y/n #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law smut

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latenightdaydreams · 20 hours

Note

Ok so first off I'm so obsessed with both your writing and könig right now, I just wanted to get that out, your writing is amazing.

I was wondering if I could request könig with a gn/fem s/o who's a burlesque dancer or stripper? I've started dancing this year and the thought of giving this sweet big boy a lap dance or seeing him in the audience keeps me going lmao (I'm going to be dancing to nicklebacks Animals and carly rae jepsens cut to the feeling in the next two shows I'm in, if you want to use either of those sort of vibes ✌🏽) tysm, lots of love

Thank you!! I love the idea of jealous König having a partner in that industry. he'd be so jealous but also cocky. "Yes, the hottest dancer in the club is MINE."

Gentlemen's Club (fem/gn)

(fem body but no gendered speech)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab body, strip club, lap dance, oral

1.3k word count

💃🏽

When König got with you, he knew you were a dancer. He’s never had an issue with it aside from minor jealousy, but he understands that is just his own insecurities. He’s never actually seen you dance before, or visited you at work. Today, he was going to change that. König has just gotten back from a seven-month long mission, seven months without his Schatzi. He can’t wait for you to get off of work.

König enters the club. It’s not his vibe. The music is incredibly loud. Flashing lights annoy him, and he hates the type of men these clubs attract. He towers above everyone as he walks through the crowd. His blonde hair pulled back into a man bun as he wears a black suit that compliments his well-toned frame.

As König walks through the club, a dancer approaches him. She’s around 5’10 in heels with red hair in pigtails, her makeup bright and glittery. Her outfit is a neon purple color that glows under the lights.

“Hey handsome. Are you looking for some company?” She asks, putting a hand on his peck.

He politely and gently removes her hand and looks her in the eyes. “I’m looking for y/n.”

You’re on-stage dancing with two other girls as you all share the stage. You lean your body back after a spin on a pole; you see a familiar figure that towers over everyone else. With an excited look on your face, you turn around quickly. “König!”

König walks up to the stage and reaches a hand out to you. He lifts you off the stage and hugs you tightly, your legs wrapping around his waist. His fingers dig into your thighs, feeling your soft flesh poke out through the holes in your fishnets.

“You look so sexy up on that stage, Schatzi.” König leans in and kisses your lips.

“Look at you!” Your lips hungrily kiss every inch of his face. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I miss you too. That’s why I’ve come to look for a…what’s it called?”

“The VIP treatment?”

“Ja, VIP treatment.” He repeats, smiling at you.

“Okay, put me down and follow me.” You giggle as you’re put down.

His massive hand slips in yours as you walk him to a private VIP room towards the back of the club. As you walk, men watch your breasts bounce and hips sway. König notices their gazes. He tries his best to not let their stares get to him. Your body is stunning and you’re dressed revealing. Of course they’re looking. If you weren’t his, he would still look.

König lowers his eyes to watch your thighs and ass instead, so he doesn’t let the men ruin his reunion with you. His eyes gaze around the room you bring him into, a large leather sofa against one wall.

You gently push his chest for him to sit back on the sofa, straddling him as soon as he sits back. His hands like a magnet grasp your ass, moving your hips to grind on his erection. Slowly, he moves his hands lower, trying to stick a finger into your pussy.

“There are cameras, you’ll have to wait for home to touch me like that.” You whisper to him before kissing him more.

“Then let’s give security a show, ja?”

A soft giggle escapes your lips as he speaks. “You’re so naughty. How about a dance?”

“A dance…a dance would hold me over until you get off work.” König’s hands travel the curve of your plump ass and move up to your back.

You stand from his lap, his fingers falling from your fleshing leaving him wanting for more. His eyes are glued to the way you stand before him, leaning your body over his and putting your hands on either side of the couch behind him.

There is a sexual aura about you as you turn a switch in your head and treat König as if he were a paying customer. He sees a new look in your eyes that draws him in. His little Schatzi turned into a little vixen. As you pull away, he leans forward, as if he’s desperate to have you that close to him again.

König chuckles at his own reaction and leans back. His hand moving over his cock to give it some of the friction it’s craving for you right now. The way his pale blue eyes travel across your body makes you tingle. He’s hungry. It’s been almost a full year without you.

Your body moves in a hypnotic motion, hands moving slowly behind you to pull on the bikini string around your back. The fabric pops up to reveal under boob to König. He gazes with anticipation as he watches your hands reach behind your shoulders and let your top fall to the ground.

“Beautiful…” He whispers once your hardened nipples and full breasts are exposed to him. König can’t help but to lean forward. His large hands reach out to cup your breasts. His thumbs passing over your nipples before you playfully swat his hands away.

“No touching König. Be a good boy.”

A growl escapes his lips as you hit his hands. He gazes up at you, pupils blown from desire and lust. “I can’t control myself, Schatzi.” With his last inch of will he leans back, continuing to rub his cock.

You stand before him, hips swaying with the music blaring throughout the club. His eyes drop from your breasts to your rear as you slowly back up to him. Your ass widens as you sit on his cock, his erection twitching in his pants. A warmth radiates over his crotch from you sitting on him.

König’s hands caress your thighs, slipping his fingers between the holes in your fishnets. He has to use all of his self-control to not pull them and rip them off of you. You roll your hips on him, matching the beat on the music. A small groan leaves his lips as he pulls you back to rest on him.

His lips are hungry as he kisses down your neck, his sharp canines dig into your neck pulling a whimper from you. You lean your body back as he continues to bite down your neck. His hands move up, gliding across your body until he cups your breasts. He pinches your nipples and lets out a tender sigh.

Your hips are still grinding on him causing König to close his eyes and enjoy the moment. He begins to daydream about you bouncing on his cock right now. How the security guards would be beating their meat looking at you getting fucked by his massive dick.

In a fluid motion you move away and off of König. His hands still reach out for you, he hates how good you are at teasing him. Your eyes drop to the bulge in his pants, causing you to bite your lower lip.

Approaching him, you lift your leg up, resting it on his shoulder. He turns his head and kisses your ankle and leg.

“Kö Kö, pay attention.” Your tone teasing him.

König turns his head and looks at you. You move the thing fabric of your thong to the side, exposing your waxed pussy to him. König’s jaw drops and stares. He’s been dreaming of that sweet cunt all these months. His eyes watch like a hawk as your fingers move down and begin to rub that tiny little clit.

“Mein Gott…” He reaches out to feel your wetness when you slap his hand away again. His eyes meet you instantly as he shakes his head.

“You can’t touch.”

“Like hell I can’t.” König whispers as he moves forward and grasps your ass, pulling your pussy to his face. He breathes you in before kissing all over your soft lips and clit. Your head drops back in ecstasy as he sticks his tongue out to lap at your cunt.

You grab his bun and hold it tightly as he eats you out. Your leg on his shoulder twitching slightly with every pass. It’s been so long; you’ve missed how his mouth feels. While pleasing you, his hand rubs along his cock, stroking it slowly. He knows they’re being watched, but fuck it. He needs you now.

#konig #konig x reader #konig cod #könig x reader #konig smut #könig cod #könig smut #könig #konig x y/n #könig mw2 #cod smut #konig x reader smut #smut #light smut #könig call of duty #könig x you #konig x you #könig x y/n #konig call of duty

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myeuphoricmindset · 2 days

Text

Made of stone — Joel Miller

Summary | You were held captive and Joel kills his way to you. But seeing how ruthless he is, you run. Do you think he’s going to let you go so easily? He can’t handle losing you again.

Pairing | Joel Miller x reader

Warning & Info | Sorry, no smut this time. I’m in my softie mindset. This is very much a hurt/comfort fic. But, if you like tension, soft (yet ruthless) Joel, desperate for you Joel then you’ll enjoy it. There is talk about being held captive and handcuffs while being restrained, but that’s about it. (no use of yn)

Word count | 2.5K

With each blow of knuckles hitting skull, you flinch. Blood spews on the ground like paint on a canvas. Time seems to slow and you have to force yourself to focus on the small sounds coming from him. The grunts and sharp breath against teeth. Reminding yourself that it’s him, it’s only Joel.

Joel Miller is a killer. A murder. And to some, a monster. But he touches you like he’s picking a flower even though he just killed with those same hands.

The sound of a limp body thuds on the ground, dirt shooting up from the ground and then slowly falling like snow. From the distance where you’re chained up, you think the guy is dead but a low groan escapes his lips. Joel slowly tilts his head, looking down at him and uses the back of his hand to wipe his lips where he was hit when the fight broke out. There is so much blood on his knuckles that it only smears red on his face.

Joel’s dark eyes meet yours and you can’t help the sharp inhale of breath that you suck in. He steps over the body on the ground making his way to you.

“Are you hurt?” He says breathlessly as he kneels down on one knee, resting his bloody hand overtop. He flexes it, clear that it hurts.

You can’t seem to form words after seeing how ruthless he is. How easy it was for him to take on not one, but multiple men at the same time.

He reaches out and you flinch. You can’t help it. He arches a brow as he freezes his hand.

“Did he hurt you?” He lifts your chin to scan his eyes over you, as if your words wouldn’t be enough anyway.

The limp mangled body in the corner of your eye, begging you to take another look. Come on, just look at what he does. This is who Joel is. This is what he can do.

“He’s dead.” It comes out as a statement, but you meant it as a question.

Joel doesn’t answer as he helps you to your feet. Your legs wobble due to the lack of strength in your body. His strong arm wraps around your waist as he looks down at you.

“Do I need to inspect you myself or are you going to answer me?” Joel says with a tick of his jaw, clearly growing impatient.

You step back, adrenaline coursing through your veins, making your bones buzz. The rough bark of the tree scrapes against your skin as you press yourself against it.

Joel drops his head back, takes a deep breath, and flexes his hand again. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says with a groan, then turns around.

His boots crack twigs before his fists crack bone. He’s immediately kneeling over the last semi-conscious man in the group. You should be happy, seeing your captors get what they deserve for hurting you and their vile plans. But you only feel fear. Joel has never hurt you before, but witnessing his true capabilities now, your mind sends urgent warning signals to stay cautious.

Maybe it’s the exhaustion of the last few days or the sight of Joel knocking the life out of the man before you, but you turn and run like a coward.

You don’t look back as you dart into the dark woods. Your hands are still cuffed, and if there’s one thing you’re thankful for tonight, it’s that they didn’t restrain your feet.

The adrenaline pushes you deeper into the woods, far enough where you can no longer hear Joel’s fists and his heavy breathing.

The moon guides your way, a path you have no idea where it leads but you don’t care.

Your heart jumps at the sound of movement within the woods. Or was it behind you? You keep moving, not once turning back. There are animals out here, that’s all it is. There isn’t a doubt in your mind that it’s the infected since you haven’t seen any in days.

Then you hear it. Your name in the distance, from behind you. Your heart starts racing and you keep running.

A loud crack of branches have you turning your head behind you, and there he is. Joel is gaining on you. Even in the dark you can see his angry face.

He's not even running, it’s a brisk walk and a reminder that you’re obviously weak which is slowing you down.

Fuck.

Your chest is burning, but you push yourself harder. You can still hear him behind you. His breathing is getting closer.

You duck under a low hanging branch, causing you to slow even more. The leaves on the ground crunch with his every step. He’s coming. He’s so close behind you. Tears prick your eyes at the way you’re gasping for air.

He won’t hurt you. He won’t hurt you. He won’t hur—

A sharp pain erupts from your ankle as you trip over a fallen tree and stumble down.

No. No. No.

Before you can even gather yourself to get up, a heavy hand flips you onto your back. Joel hovers over you, staring down at you with the darkest eyes. The only sound within these woods were both of your heavy breathing.

You would move, if you could. But his body pins you to the cold hard ground.

“Let me go.” You say through your gritted teeth.

Both of your heavy breathing sync up, and you can feel his chest moving with yours.

“No.” He lowers his head closer to your face and says slowly, “Don’t ever run from me again.” Panicked flashing in his eyes for a split second, but it’s gone too quick for you to register it.

You thrash under his weight and he stays unmoving. It’s only making you more tired, trying to fight him off. It makes you even more angry at the way he’s so calm and unfazed by your efforts to break from his grasp.

He just killed a group of men and holding you down is a way for him to catch his breath from all the walking to catch you.

“Or what?” you ask breathlessly, eyes narrowed with defiance as you stare at him.

Something softens the hard edges of his face as he looks down at you, as if your words have triggered something inside him. His voice comes out low and soft, nearly a whisper. “Do you think I’d hurt you?”

Your bottom lip begins to tremble, words failing to form. You hold each other’s gaze, the wind rustling the leaves in the trees, causing some to fall and spiral down, showering over you both.

He finds his answer in your silence and gently lowers his forehead to yours. You shift your head away, confusion and pain swirling inside you. His nose brushes against your hair near your ear. You faintly hear him inhale deeply, and his exhale is shaky. He whispers your name softly before shaking off his emotion and gently bringing you to your feet.

Whatever he was going to say remains hidden behind his glassy eyes, which avert from yours as soon as you are steady on your feet.

He grabs your hands and inserts a key into your handcuffs, unlocking them. They fall to the ground, allowing you to finally take a full breath. You nearly wobble without his support as he steps back.

“Go ahead,” he says, standing before you with one hand stretched out towards the empty woods, his jaw tight.

He’s letting you go. But is this what you want? Everything feels fuzzy and unclear. These last few days have messed you up, leaving your stomach in knots and your eyes brimming with tears.

You don’t move as you hold his gaze. “Where were you?” you ask, your voice slipping out. His brows knit together in confusion. You continue, “I waited for you to come.”

His hand drops. “I came, what do—”

Your voice grows louder but remains shaky. “How long was I gone?”

His jaw tenses. “Two days.”

You nod, swallowing the hard knot in your throat. “You promised.” Your voice breaks, and Joel flinches at the sound.

“Do you think I would have let them take you if I was there?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Fucking Garrett. I would have killed him myself if they hadn’t already done it.” Joel’s voice is filled with anger as he rubs the back of his neck, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment as if in pain.

Your eyes flick up to Joel at the name on his lips. Garrett was part of the crew that you and Joel traveled with. He wasn’t the nicest guy, but he was trustworthy. He followed Joel from Texas to Boston with a few other group members. Whenever Joel had to make a run or confront others over goods, he would leave Garrett in charge, ensuring the group members were protected—one of them being you. But he didn’t protect you enough, as your campsite was raided and you were taken with such ease while Joel was gone.

Maybe it’s delusional to believe the promises Joel whispered under the stars, but you feel so scared and violated that your only hope was Joel. You held onto his words, and regardless of him coming to save you, it wasn’t soon enough. You trusted him so deeply, believing he would somehow feel your danger in his bones and teleport back to you. It was foolish, and deep down you know that, but confusion and fear clouds your mind.

“I thought you were…” Joel pauses, then clears his throat. “Dead.”

His words nearly snap you back to reality, finally allowing you to see the effects of this ordeal on him. You know you mean something to him, but the way his breath trembles and his eyes soften when they meet yours almost convinces you there might be more. But he’s Joel Miller; his heart is made of stone.

Right?

"It wasn't just two days, it was fucking eternity. It was hell not knowing where you were or if you were okay. ”

You drop your gaze. His firm hands grasp your shoulders, forcing you to meet his eyes again. He looks like he's about to say something, but takes a few breaths before continuing.

"I would never hurt you. Do you understand?" You nod at his words. "But I will not only hurt those that touch you, I will kill them. Slowly, and I will fucking enjoy it.

So, I'm sorry it took me two days to get to you, but I selfishly took my time with them. Made sure they suffered." His hand brushes your cheek softly, and this time, you don't flinch.

Your eyes close at his touch, a tear falling. His lips press against your cheek, catching the tear with his kiss. You fling your arms around him, and his hands, still stained with blood, wrap around your waist.

"You should have come to me sooner, instead of letting your anger get the best of you," You cry softly into his chest.

"I know," he says as one of his hands strokes your hair. "I am here now."

As if all the adrenaline drains from your body at the sound of his words, you feel so weak that your legs give out. Joel catches you before you hit the ground, his tight grasp steadying you. You mutter some apologies, but he doesn’t acknowledge them as he scoops you up into his arms. Your arms stay wrapped around his neck, and you bury your face in his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he says as he walks through the woods. His thumb lightly brushes against your shoulder as he holds you tightly. He is so soft with you, gentle and caring.

Caring. He cares, and you see that now. Maybe his heart wasn’t made of stone, or maybe you broke the cast.

You are so relieved to see his truck parked between a group of trees, but almost empty the moment he places you into the seat and lets go to close the car door. You stop him by reaching out and grabbing his hand. He looks down at your hand and wraps his fingers around it. Lowering himself, he holds onto the roof of the truck to steady himself as he comes face to face with you.

“You’re safe now.”

His words soothe you, and you breathe a little lighter. The hand he has on the roof of the truck lowers to cup your cheek. His eyes roam over your face, and he parts his lips to say something, but doesn’t. He only brushes your hair behind your ear before dropping his hand. But you grab it, bringing it back to your cheek.

“It’s okay,” you say, almost too softly to hear.

You can almost see his body relax, as if he was too nervous to continue touching you. With your consent, he nearly knocks you back against the truck’s bench seat as he pulls you into his arms. His breathing speeds up as his hands wrap around you, desperately searching for the perfect hold to keep you close. It stuns you for a moment, the desperation in his embrace.

At first, you were only focused on how all this made you feel, and it’s only now that you realize he felt like he lost you. This is the first moment he’s able to relax, knowing you’re safe with him.

Your arms wrap around him, one hand threading through his hair as his head drops into the crook of your neck. Joel doesn’t cry—at least, you’ve never seen him emotional—but the way his breathing feels uneven against your neck has you hugging him tighter.

Your name spills out from his lips and over your skin like a feather. “Tell me you’re okay.” His arms tighten a little around you.

“I’m okay.” You say back, heart aching.

He pulls his head back to meet your gaze, his eyes red even in the dim light of the moon peering through the truck's windshield.

"I thought..." His eyes flicker over your face. You both hold each other, his rapid breathing filling the silence. "I can't do that again," he says, letting out a sigh and rubbing his chest.

Your hand rises to rest on his chest, and he slides his hand out from under yours to place it on top. His heart beats against your palm.

"You feel that?" he asks, looking at you. You nod, and he presses your palm more firmly against his chest. "You're fucking killing me."

Before you can even determine what he means by that, he leans in and kisses you. His lips are soft, and you can tell he's holding back. But once you lean into it, he kisses you like he's starved. His hands hold you tightly, moving around as if desperately trying to memorize you with his eyes closed. You melt into his kiss, your hand popping open the button of his shirt.

Fingers dip beneath the fabric, and you place your hand on his bare chest as he continues to kiss you deeply. His hands in your hair and your name on his lips.

There it is. The rapid beat of his heart thumps against your palm.

So, he has one after all. And it’s beating just for you.

— Masterlist

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller comfort #joel miller fic

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theitgirlnetwork · 2 days

Text

Earn It

Ch. 7: Heaven's Happiness

Note: As always, the love this story receives amazes me. Thank you so much for reading. Thank you for the notes, the reblogs, the comments and messages. Interacting makes this so much fun! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. There will be a lot more time skips from here on out! So you'll all get to know the gang as adults. I will ask that if anyone wants to use my story as inspo for one of your own, or anything else, you let me know, it's more fun that way. I also don't post this or any of my other stuff anywhere else. Once again, hi to my best friend who now reads this story, love you miss girl <3 Anywayyy, I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading <3

Taglist:@spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

Warnings: Some strong language

“She’s very gifted, Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock. The best I’ve seen at this age in my career. You could have a professional dancer on your hands.”

The three adults watch from the observing window as Heaven demonstrates Grand Adage for a group of her peers. Her little back straight and stomach tight as she accomplishes the move with a stern discipline that many adults struggle to achieve.

“We know. So why is she playing Clara?”

“Beatrice-”

“I’m just wondering, Luca, I mean I just believe it’s our right as her parents to ask Madame Sidorov why our 9 year old daughter is teaching the snowflakes that are twice her age the dance she doesn’t get to be a part of.”

Madame Sidorov swallows hard as she brings her clipboard to her chest. She’s been running her youth dance company for over 20 years. Many of her dancers have gone on to be successful, working artists. But she’d never seen talent like Heaven Whitlock. The girl came into her studio at the age of 6, excited to show her that she already knew how to go en pointe even though children really shouldn’t and normally couldn’t do it until they were 11. Madame Sidorov had been overcome with excitement. She had a star on her hands.

The older woman also learned that Beatrice Whitlock also knew what she had. The teacher has dealt with gunner parents before, but none like the stern young woman who trailed in behind her prodigy daughter with her nose in the sky and demands on her tongue.

“Mrs. Whitlock, Clara is the lead role in the Nutcracker-”

“Bullshit, Sidorov, we both know that the prima dancer role is the Sugar Plum Fairy and the arguably most complicated dance is the Waltz of the Snowflakes, the dance you had my daughter demonstrating yesterday. So,” Beatrice’s heels click as she shifts her weight from one leg to another, hip jutting out. “Why is your best dancer playing the dumb little girl who spends most of the ballet watching everyone else dance?”

“I think my wife is frustrated because we all know our daughter is talented. So we’re having a hard time understanding why those talents aren’t being showcased.” Luca cuts, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist in an attempt to calm her.

“Heaven is only 9. We need to allow the older dancers to play the more advanced roles-”

“Then they should be better.” Beatrice interrupts, swinging her purse over her shoulder, pushing her shades up onto her head. “How about this, until your priorities are straight, we can take Heaven somewhere where things are fair and you can dust off your pointe shoes and start teaching again instead of using my child.”

“But, all of my friends go there.” Heaven whines as they speed their way down the highway for the hour drive back to their home. “I don’t want to find another studio.”

“I know, Stellina, but we want you to have every opportunity. Wouldn’t you want more chances to dance?”

Heaven is stubbornly silent in the backseat, her step father softly pats her foot, reaching back from the driver seat. Her mother turns to face her, a noncommittal look on her face. “Baby, when you came to Mommy a couple years ago, what did you say you wanted to be when you grew up?”

The younger girl bites her lip, tugging irritably at her seatbelt. “A ballerina.”

“Just a ballerina?”

Heaven huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, looking away from her mother. “The best ballerina ever.”

“The best ballerina. Ever. And Mommy and Papino have worked very hard to make that possible for you, yes? Practice everyday, paying for lessons, buying you everything you need. But you’re a big girl now. You’re going to have to learn how to work very hard too if you want to be the best, baby. We can only take you part of the way. You need to think super hard about whether this is what you want. You need to think about if you’re going to earn it.”

Beatrice’s voice is soft and kind, but her words are harsh. She turns around, not waiting for a response from her daughter, satisfied that her whines and complaints had quieted to obedient, stifled little sniffles.

Heaven stares down at her hands through wet lashes, her bottom lip wobbling as she smothers her sadness. She does want it. She wants to be the best ballerina ever. She is going to be the best ballerina ever. And she’s grateful. Papino and Mommy had given a lot. And she won’t disappoint them. So she’d go to a new dance studio. She would make new friends. And if not, that wasn’t what she was there for.

Luca Whitlock frowns as he drums his finger on the steering wheel, looking forward at the traffic ahead of them. “How about some ice cream, Stellina? Might cheer you up?”

Identical sets of brown eyes meet in the rearview mirror. The little girl in the backseat simply sinks against the leather, forcing indifference into her voice. “No thank you, Papino, I’m…not hungry.”

“And you have your, um,” Heaven scratches her head, mentally scrolling through the list of items Tashi would need at home. She was going to spend the first few weeks post-knee surgery with her parents. Heaven had stayed with her girlfriend for the days following the injury, lying to her school and telling them she had a death in the family that required her to take some time away. She just wanted to get Tashi settled before she headed back to UCLA.

The dancer had assumed that their boyfriend would emerge out of the shadows, and use his charm to weasel out of an apology, ultimately taking over Tashi’s care since he had the most free time.

Unfortunately, he continued to disappoint her. So, instead, she lingered. Slept in Tashi’s bed with her, unwrapped and rewrapped her knee. Cleaned her dorm, brought her any work she missed. The girls in the athletic dorm thought she’d moved in. But now, Tashi’s parents were here to take her home for a little while.

“I have everything, Hev, you made sure of that.”

Her heart aches. Tashi sounds so tired. So down. Heaven is so frustrated. She’s ready to move past this part. She wants Tashi to just be better. She tells herself over and over that the surgery would fix it. That once she got the treatment she needs and a little physical therapy, she’d be back to where she was, ready to take over the world with her.

“I’ll see you when we open, right? You’re still gonna come?” Heaven rocks on her feet, careful not to bump Tashi’s crutch. “You don’t have to, you’ve seen me do most of the dances and I know it might be hard to travel-”

“Babe, I’ll be there. Okay? I need to go.” Tashi lifts Heaven’s chin, giving her a halfhearted peck before turning to climb into her dad’s truck, gesturing for Heaven to stop when she goes to try helping her into the high seated vehicle. “I’ll call you. Why don’t you have Art help you get your stuff from my room? He probably wants to say goodbye.”

“T, are we gonna talk more about that-”

“I told you,” Tashi shrugs, hand on the car door handle, her pajama pants poorly covering the large brace on her knee. “M’not mad. It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. Heaven isn’t stupid. Ever since Tashi and Patrick found out that she’d done…stuff with Art, Patrick has been radio silent, and all Tashi does is encourage Heaven to spend more time with Art who she was decidedly avoiding. She’d gotten…caught up in the infirmary. The combination of the heightened emotions and Art’s soft attention and care caused another moment of weakness. She’d accidentally said something that she’d been denying to herself ever since, and thanking the good lord above that Art had apparently missed. She was determined not to tempt fate for a…fourth time?

Which is why she’d gone back to Tashi’s room and started packing her stuff and straightening up without alerting the blond tennis player who’d been haunting her dreams as of late. And it’s also why she almost pissed herself when he’d somehow materialized in the dorm room doorway, rapping his knuckles against the light wood, in a failed attempt not to startle her.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, but, um, Tashi texted me and said you might need some help getting this stuff to your car.”

He looks good. She can’t ignore that, but she can refuse to get caught up in staring at him as he leans in the doorway, muscled arms on full display as he leans in the frame, a poorly hidden pout on his face.

“I’m good.” Heaven shrugs, slinging her bookbag over her shoulder, trying to lift her purse and her other two bags at the same time, only to have all of her belongings fall out of her purse. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, let me help you.” Art bends and starts grabbing the miscellaneous items from her bag.

“I can do it-”

“It’ll be quicker-”

“Art.” She huffs, tucking her hair behind her ears and sitting criss-crossed on the floor. “I meant it, when I said that I was done…Tashi might be trying to teach me a lesson in some kind of twisted way, and I’m sorry you’re getting mixed up in it, but I’m…I can’t be around you and be with her at the same time. Clearly, I can’t handle boundaries.”

“So…so what does that mean? Not talking at all? Is that what you want?” He asks, shoulders dropping, eyes filled with hurt as he inches closer. “Heaven-”

“Sure. If that’s what it takes for it to get you to get I can’t do” she gestures between them. “This, then fine, let’s say that’s what I want.”

Art clenches his jaw, blinking quickly as he tries to think something he could say. Anything to change her mind. “Heaven, please, I’ll…we’d be friends. We can just, I can’t…please don’t.” he finishes, giving up on trying to articulate his thoughts through his panicked haze. Through all of this back and forth, chasing and running, he’d forgotten the chance that once Patrick was out of the picture, that he might get written out too.

His eyes scan her face as she shakes her head, shoving the last of her stuff back into her purse and standing. “Art, it’s not like I don’t wanna be around you. But stuff is getting too complicated. This shit is just too much. I haven’t been back to my school in days, Tashi’s leg is fucked and I don’t want to make things any harder for her, Patrick is just fucking gone and I really can’t handle anything more. So when you say we can be friends, I need you to mean it. I need you to tell me we can do that.”

Art finds himself in between a rock and a hard place. He wants to be honest. He wants to acknowledge that he can’t see himself getting over her within the foreseeable future. He wants to tell her that he’s glad she’s probably not with Patrick anymore, and as bad as he feels about Tashi’s leg, he quite frankly does not understand why it has to change anything between them.

But he’s desperate. Art is humiliated to admit it to himself but, he would do anything to keep the line of communication between him and Heaven open so if he had to appease her by saying that they would be platonic despite the fact that he quite literally gets dizzy standing next to her, fine. Like he’d told himself before, he was playing the long game, collecting the points that matter. So, offering her a tight smile, Art sticks his large hand out to her, encasing her smaller one and jumping to stand at his full height. “Friends. But, friends don’t ignore each other for days, Hev.”

Heaven bites her lower lip, choosing to ignore the blue-brown eyes that drop to her mouth before looking back up at her and shaking his hand. “Okay. Yeah.” The pair slowly pull their hands apart, Heaven shivers as she feels the calluses on his palm slide across her hand. “As my friend, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is,” the girl rolls her eyes to the ceiling, releasing a heavy sigh. “Is she done? You saw it, and you obviously know more than me…is that something she can keep playing with her knee like that?”

He can’t bring himself to dash the hope she was clearly harboring on the behalf of Tashi but the girl’s recovery is…unlikely. Art tucks his hands in his pockets, tilting his head as he chooses his words carefully. “Tashi’s strong, and really fucking good, if anyone is going to recover from that kind of injury, it’s her.”

“So…no.” Heaven sits down on Tashi’s bed, staring forward at the wall that’s littered with pictures of some of the best tennis players in the world. A shaky breath leaves her as she stares at the professional posters, accompanied by the posters Adidas had made with Tashi on them.

“You’re a really good girlfriend.” Art whispers.

“I cheated on her with you. I’m pretty much the worst girlfriend ever.”

“No, I mean, you’re really invested in her. In the thing she loves, like you care about tennis the same way we do, f-for her.”

Heaven smiles softly to herself, grabbing Tashi’s pillow and hugging it to her body. “I fell in love with Tashi watching her play tennis. Just like everyone else does.” she jokes, poking Art’s leg with her toe. “When I’m watching her, it’s like I’m getting to witness something. It’s…corny but tennis is her calling. She goes to some other little world when she’s playing, and, even though I’m not a tennis player, she takes me with her. It’s this feeling of closeness that I can’t get anywhere else, you know?” Or at least, nowhere else I’m willing to talk about.

He does know. Art does know exactly what she’s talking about. He felt it. Once, when he and Patrick sat and watched Tashi play for the first time. It’s an all encompassing feeling. He was so caught up in watching her every move that he hadn’t looked anywhere but at Tashi. If he’d just looked three rows in front of him he’d have seen the girl in front of him now.

The second time, the feeling was more intense, more of a sensation than a mere feeling. It was when he was sitting in an empty theater, watching Heaven dance, just for him. Art had never felt the things he’d felt before. He’d never had the thoughts he thought. He’d held his breath for the entire minute and 26 seconds that she gave him. He sat on the edge of the red, fabric auditorium seat, scared to blink and get left behind. He wanted to capture the feeling and keep it forever. And he has. He’s kept it. And everytime she gives him another taste, a smile, a kiss, a laugh, a touch, he goes back to being alone in the theater, experiencing euphoria for the very first time.

If that’s the feeling Tashi gives Heaven, then he’s very jealous. And he wants it.

And that’s another new feeling the girls introduced him to. He’d never wanted something like her…or…uh them.

Jealousy. Longing. Needing.

Art knew exactly what Patrick was talking about when he said he liked seeing him fired up about something. Because, as much as he loves tennis, it didn’t make his blood boil. It didn’t make his stomach muscles clench with intensity. He didn’t feel that satisfying nervous burn. Not until…

Art needs to test a theory.

He scratches the back of his head, looking down at his sneakers before clearing his throat. “Uh, so, Hev, I’ve got a match this afternoon. And, I know things are weird right now, so you might think I’m a dick for even asking-”

“Arthur.”

“Come watch me play.” He blurts. Heaven’s eyes widen and he finds himself taking a tentative step forward as if he was trying to soothe a spooked horse. “I don’t know, I just figured…I mean, you might miss watching someone play, with Tashi taking a break and Patrick being…himself.” When Heaven continues to look unsure, Art puts himself out there again, trying to entice her the way he knows how. He moves to stand in front of where she’s seated on the bed, crouching to be just below her level. “When I win it will be for you. I’d like you to be there.” Art carefully tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, before grabbing her chin between his thumb and index finger, moving her face around playfully. “As a friend.”

As a friend. That’s exactly what Heaven repeats to herself, over and over when she carries her bags over to the tennis courts, placing one foot onto the metal bleacher and opting to sit in the seats down on the front to rows. Just so she can see better. And it’ll be easier to slip out before the match is over. Besides, she couldn’t bring herself to sit with the women’s tennis players towards the top. All she could think of when she saw them was that it should have been one of their legs cracking instead of Tashi’s and it didn’t exactly make her feel like a great person.

She slips into the seat and crosses her legs, struggling as she pushes her overnight bag under the low seat.

“Hey, let me help you.” A blonde girl crouches beside her, pushing along with Heaven and getting the back underneath.

“Oh,” Heaven offers her a bright smile. “Thanks, I have to head back to my school after this so I have all my shit with me, didn’t think I was gonna come.”

“No problem,” the girl chirps, plopping down into the seat next to Heaven. “Sara. Myles’ girlfriend, he’s playing after this first match. Whose girlfriend are you?”

Tashi’s name is on the tip of her tongue. She swears it is. But the girl is clearly talking about the players that were starting to filter in, with their red shirts that Heaven could see fitting Art perfectly from her seat. His blond curls flopping as his head moves side to side, she knows he’s looking for her. Heaven gives a soft wave to catch his attention and can’t help but match his smile when he spots her, waving back. “I’m not dating a player.”

“Well these are girlfriend seats, so don’t let anyone else hear you say that.” Sara says lightly, pulling her shades down over her eyes.

Heaven turns to look at her, tearing her eyes away from Art stretching. “What the hell are girlfriend seats?”

“They’re seats…where girlfriends sit?” The girl sits up to get a pixelated picture of her boyfriend on her razor. “You know, the players’ girls sit, so they can see them. No wonder I don’t recognize you, you’re a plant.”

“I’m Heaven, I don’t go here, I’m just watching my friend before I go back to UCLA.”

“Oh, shit,” Sara’s eyes widen in realization. “You’re Donaldson’s girl right? Myles’ cousin Kyle, trust me I know the names kill me too, but he was saying how Donaldson brought his hot girlfriend out with them the other night and was dick trying to show off for her.”

“Again, we’re friends, m’not his girl.”

“Hey, Hev!” Sara ducks her head, watching out of her peripheral as Art jogs over, racket in hand, pushing up onto the fence so he could be eye level with Heaven. “Match is about to start, kiss for good luck?” He grins, holding his racket handle out to her. He playfully pouts until she gives in, leaning forward and pressing her glossed lips to the handle, looking at Art through her lashes. The blond wets his bottom lip and pulls the racket back. “Eyes on me, okay?”

“Whatever, just remember you promised me a win.” Heaven giggles, crossing her arms as she settles back into her seat. Art beams even wider, hopping down off of the fence and jogging backwards back to where the players sit. “And spit out your gum!”

Faintly, she could hear Art’s teammates reprimanding him for ‘making the rest of them look bad’ and she smiles to herself, bringing a hand up to play with her name chain.

“Girl.” Sara snorts.

“Just friends.”

“Yeah sure.” the blonde girl shrugs, pushing her shades back down. “Don’t tell me, tell Donaldson.”

Art delivers a win, as promised. It wasn’t hard, really. One thing Patrick had gotten right was that college kids weren’t really much competition. And maybe he had some very good motivation sitting out in the crowd with her eyes locked on him. So he showed off a little, served a little harder, made the other guy run a little bit more than necessary. He could always explain that away as wanting to impress his coach and any possible reps looking to endorse him. And sure, he might’ve looked over at her for each point he wrenched out of the poor guy from Temple’s hands but…well he didn’t have an excuse for that other than it gave him a rush knowing that she is sitting pretty, legs crossed, perched with the other girlfriends, watching him, rooting for him, breathing heavy for him.

When matchpoint is declared his, Art smiles cockily, strolling up to the net and shaking hands with his opponent before making his way over to Heaven again, this time climbing completely over the fence, leaving behind his tennis bag on the opposite side of the court. This time she stands, catching him a little as he lands in the small space in front of her and the fence. “Well?” he pants, lifting his hat to adjust his hair before placing it back on his head.

“Well, what? You want me to say congratulations?” Heaven grins, sweeping some sweat that dripped from his forehead off of his cheek. “Congratulations, Arthur.” she hums.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah,” Sarah calls from her seat, smiling smugly up at the pair. “Good job, Donaldson. Why don’t you try to pass some of that mojo to Myles, huh? Getting kinda tired of coming out to these things just to watch you play.”

“I’ve got a lucky charm, that’s all.” Art nudges Heaven, wrapping an arm around her waist so she doesn’t stumble too far away from him.

“Yeah, so, lucky, or the other guy sucks and Art is good-”

“No, I think you’re my lucky charm, don’t try to ruin it-” Art laughs, taking his hat off again, his messy blond hair falling all over as he places it on Heaven’s head, holding her to him as she squirms.

“Ew, Arthur, it's sweaty!”

“It’s the fruit of my labor, Hev, that win was for you!”

Sarah scoffs, shaking her head as she watches the pair, leaning away to avoid getting hit when Art lifts Heaven, swinging her to the opposite side of him to help her get to the steps before grabbing her bags. As she sees him guide her by her waist down the bleachers, both of them cheesing as they chat as if no one else was there and she realizes that Art is leaving the courts before his fellow teammates play, Sarah commends her own instincts.

And then she makes a note to herself to start saving the returning girlfriend seat next to hers for Heaven. The other girls were sort’ve bitches, anyway.

“So, I should head back.” Heaven leans back against the driver door of her car, clasping her hands together behind her. “But, this got my mind off of things for a little, so thank you.”

“It’s what friends are for.” Art laughs, stepping in front of her, hand behind his neck.

“Pft, you’re such a dick. Aren’t you supposed to be the nice one?”

“I am nice.” he smiles, rocking on his feet, feeling his chest tighten as Heaven bites her rose petal bottom lip again. His eyes soften as he stares down at her delicate features and thinks about how right things feel when they’re together. How he hasn’t felt this good in…ever. “So nice, I’m not gonna say what I want to say. I’m just gonna say,” he takes her hand gently, toying with her fingers, pushing her thumb with his own, “goodnight.”

Heaven’s lips part, and looking up into his eyes, how kindly he looks down at her. What she can see in them almost does it. She almost got lost, just like that. But a buzz in her jacket pocket has her grabbing her phone and the message has her taking a small step backward and placing her hand on her door handle. “Goodbye, Art.”

“One two three, one two three, and Peter please keep up with Heaven, Heaven a little less hatred on your face, thank you, two three and up, I want her in the air-” Madame Fontaine claps her hands to the pace of the movements she wants from her two leads, following them as they move across the floor. Heaven holds her breath as she’s lifted into the air for two counts before she’s slid down Peter’s body, draping herself across him romantically as he kneels to accommodate her. “Yes, that is exactly it. Now kiss.”

Heaven feels herself wince, squeezing her eyes shut as she feels Peter’s lips press against hers.

“Still doesn’t look good, Madame.” Fallon calls from her seat.

“No, no it doesn’t, does it? You two, what’s the issue, tu veux m'humilier et me faire me suicider ou quoi?”

“No, Madame,” Heaven huffs, swatting Peter’s hand away from her waist. “We don’t want to humiliate you or make you kill yourself, I don’t understand why we have to do the version with the kiss, there are plenty of variations without it-”

“You understood her?” Peter squints at the girl next to him before huffing, “Fine, whatever, MacMillan intended for there to be passion between Romeo and Juliet, and you curl your lip up everytime I kiss you.”

“I don’t like doing it.” Heaven shrugs. “I’m a professional dancer, not a porn star, and I’m playing a 15 year old girl, I don’t know why any sane, adult audience would want to watch me lay on top and kiss a grown man and then kill myself to be with him-”

“We open tonight. We are doing the ballet as we rehearsed, you two will kiss and you will tolerate it. Practice if you must, pretend he’s someone else, take a shot before you do it, I don’t care.”

“Madame, we’re 19.”

“Oh please.” The older woman storms off, her assistant behind her and the two dancers are left side by side.

“So…should we practice?”

“Absolutely fucking not, thank you very much.” Heaven pushes past Peter, snatching her dance bag from the floor. “You’re gonna practice until your knees bleed for the next hour and then you’re gonna soak in the athletic building so you’re actually ready for tonight and I’m gonna go…I don’t know, pray.”

As Heaven storms away, dramatically slamming the theater door behind her, she can recognize she was in a bitchy mood. She felt like she had a lot of shit to be annoyed about and was frankly pissed to feel her world collapsing around her on the first night of her first college role in which she’s the fucking prima.

First, she once again demonstrated to herself that she has absolutely no fucking self control when it comes to Art Donaldson, a truth that she’s learned about herself that really agitates her. She discovered this as she struggled into the routine of only responding to the blond every couple of days and found herself sitting up in the privacy of her own dorm, reading and rereading every message she sent, the bright light of her phone shining brightly on her shame.

Second, she still hadn’t heard from her boyfriend (ex?), Patrick. She’d watched a couple of his matches while she was on the treadmill at the gym and as he does, he wins the first two rounds only to lose in the third. He found time to get lazy in his tennis playing but failed to pick up his goddamn phone and call either of his girlfriends.

Which leads to the third thing haunting her. Tashi is fucking irritable as shit. Apparently, surgery does not agree with her, because Tashi had been crabby for the last few days. It started with the day of Art’s match when she’d sent her perfectly timed message. 'Did he win?' It was like she was taunting her. Like Tashi knew Heaven couldn't stay away. It pisses Heaven off even more that she was right. Then Tashi had moved on to venting about how Patrick was absolutely wasting his talent, how the fact that he’s not winning pisses her off even more now that she can’t play. How she’s going pro as soon as she gets the chance because if this injury told her anything, it was that there was no time to wait. How now that she’s got time on her hands, she’s been thinking more about her plan for her life and Heaven’s.

And lastly, the real kicker, what had Heaven gritting her teeth as she did bar warmups this morning, was that fucking phone call. The one from her mother that she received at 5:00am when she was stretching. The one where her mother said she wouldn’t be able to make it to her first night of her first ballet in college in which she’s the fucking prima. And when she expressed her disappointment, Beatrice responded ‘It’s just a school ballet, I’ll come to your first professional one.’

So, yep, she was in a shitty fucking mood.

But she wouldn’t let all of that stop her debut as an adult dancer. She was going to be a pro, she was going to do it her way, even if the 5 seats she had reserved in the front row were empty.

So, she sits at the vanity backstage, putting her hair into Juliet’s first hairstyle. She listens to music that reminds her of when she was 15 to get into the right headspace as she puts blush on her cheeks. She offers Peter a soft smile when she sees him in his costume and forces herself to try to look at him the right way. Because the things that are pissing her off don’t matter right now. Right now, all there is is Juliet.

It doesn’t matter if Heaven’s smile is fake as the lights shine down on her when she first prances her way onto the stage. Juliet’s smile is real. It’s meaningless if Heaven’s tears are real when she squints and sees that her mother’s seat is indeed empty, her stepfather attempting to send her a thumbs up to distract from the woman’s absence. And so what, if Heaven can’t go to her happy place as she solos because she sees both Patrick and Tashi’s seats are empty as well. As long as she can still breezily get through her motions, as long as it looks beautiful for the crowd, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter.

And it definitely doesn’t matter, that as she came out of her fake balcony in her sleep gown to blow everyone’s minds with the most loving, fucking passionate pas de deux they’d ever seen, she accidentally caught eyes with Art in the audience, staring up at her intensely.

So she doesn’t have to feel guilty that when she kissed Peter, she envisioned him with curly blond hair and heterochromatic eyes. Or the fact that Madame Fontaine told her when she stepped off stage to change into her next costume that it was the most romantic, realistic kiss she’d ever seen.

Does Art know he's stupid? Absolutely. He's never dared call himself intelligent. He didn't need the little voice that sounds like Patrick calling him pussywhipped. He knows. But, he still found himself on the highway, traveling at a breakneck speed, eyeing the bouquet of flowers that he has placed in the seat.

He'd known Heaven was serious about this whole friend thing. She's so good, and kind. And she cares so much about Tashi and Patrick. But Art knows he can treat her better. He's sure of it. Despite what he knows to be true, Art refuses to pressure her...anymore. He'd just rely on the fact that if they were supposed to be together like he believed they should be, they would be. Eventually. Soon. Hopefully.

So he came fully ready to play the dutiful friend. He was gonna stand politely by as Heaven leapt into Patrick's arms after the show. Art was gonna smile politely as she and Tashi shared kisses and exchanged giggles as they talked about inside jokes that they only understood. But then he got there. He'd been directed to the front where the two premier dancers families were arranged to sit and found three empty seats separating him from a man with peppered hair and smart looking glasses who had his own bouquet of flowers across his lap and a Chanel gift bag next to his feet. As he inches into his seat the man looks at him with a smile.

"You must be Patrick. I'm Heaven's stepfather, Luca Whitlock, I'm sorry I missed you at her birthday." The older man holds his hand out to Art with a kind smile. "Nice to meet you."

Art offers him his own awkward grin, accepting the tight squeeze of the man's hand. "Uh, no, I'm Heaven's friend, Art. It's really nice to meet you Mr. Whitlock."

"You as well." The man lifts his wrist to check his watch. "Show is meant to start in a few minutes, hopefully he will be here shortly. Stellina won't like for her boyfriend to be late.

Art shifts uncomfortably again, checking his phone. Patrick had reached out to him a couple days after Tashi's injuries. Mostly to make insults thinly veiled as jokes, clearly still pissed that he yelled at him. Art responded with short, one worded messages.

It's the least they'd ever spoken since they'd met.

The guilt he feels for his part in this fight they were having is very real. But it was currently heavily outweighed by his annoyance at the fact that his friend was seemingly punishing Heaven by not showing up for her big night. He knew Patrick didn't deserve her, and he was only proving his point.

"Is Tashi with Mrs. Whitlock or..."

"Oh, my, my wife couldn't make it. And Tashi is still...healing. Her mother called right before I was supposed to pick her up."

Oh. "Oh."

As much as he's glad he could be here for Heaven, he knows that Tashi and her mother being there would mean more. His heart aches for her as he settles back into his seat and the lights dim. The pain he feels for her only intensifies when he sees her step out onto the stage. She's beautiful. The perfect Juliet. If anyone would make a man fall in love within a few glances, ready to die at the thought of not being with her, Heaven would be it.

Her eyes are sad as she eyes the empty seats, using them as a tragic point of focus as she completes her expert turns. Behind him he could hear people whispering about how gorgeous the girl playing Juliet was, how talented she is. All Art can think is that they have no idea. They don't know how she's managing to be so elegant, so beautiful, so perfect, even as she's in the type of pain she's in.

Art would do anything to bring the light back into her eyes so they would shine the way the rest of her was.

He loves her.

He knows it. He feels it as her eyes finally make their way to his seat and her smile is a little more real. A little bit of light slips back into her eyes. She dances even more beautifully, more genuinely than before. And his mind is filled with the same thought.

Yes baby, that's right. Eyes on me. I'll make it better. I'll make you happy.

And he means it. Friends or not. Lovers or not.

It's on Heaven's first night of her first ballet in college where she's the fucking prima ballerina that Art makes a vow to himself.

He was gonna dedicate himself to Heaven Whitlock's happiness. No matter what that meant.

3 Years Later (California)(Age: 22):

Tashi shakes her head to herself as she watches Art pace in the kitchen. She brings her coffee to her lips, blowing at the smoke slowly as she observes him from the couch, taking a small sip before setting the mug loudly on the glass coffee table. She rolls her eyes when he doesn’t stop his steadily paced steps across the floor. “You good?”

The blond finally pauses to look at her, jaw clenching and unclenching before he opens his mouth to speak. “This is just different, you know?”

“How? It’s still tennis.”

“It’s pros, Tashi, I’m just nervous.” Art says, running his hand through his blond curls. “These guys are good.”

“You’re fucking good.” She asserts, crossing her arms. “Look, I can’t make you believe in yourself. If you can’t do this, please, let me know now, because I need to know if you’re not going to make this happen. We have a deal.”

Art sighs, planting his hands down on the counter, staring down at the scattered marble with a frown as he tries to get out of his head. Suddenly, he feels a hand slide across his back and an envelope lands on the counter between his hands, into his line of sight.

“Something for you to consider while you decide if you’re gonna fuckin’ play like I know you can.”

With that, Tashi storms out, heels clicking on the hotel room floor and the door beeping as it slams shut behind her. Art stares down at the envelope, reading and rereading the name of the sender.His heart both clenches and races as he thinks about what the 4 little words on the small, insignificant piece of paper could mean for him. How those 4 words and whatever they’re hiding behind them will ruin his life.

The Paris Opera Ballet

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peachhcs · 3 days

Note

Does Will tell any of the guys he's realised his mistake??

Or even just that he slept with someone??

i like to think will calls grace first. she gives the best advice when it comes to any of this and then he calls gabe and ryan to talk to them.

"what's up, will?" grace asked as soon as she answered the phone.

"i hooked up with someone," will said immediately which caught grace off guard.

"what?"

"there was this halloween party last night..i think i was a little drunk and i hooked up with this girl," the boy explained, chewing on the bottom of his lip.

"okay. did something happen?" the older girl grew concerned.

"only that i did it because i thought i'd be able to get over samy and i didn't. i only thought about her the entire time," the hockey player's head fell into his hands as he sat on the end of his bed.

"oh. i see," the older blonde was at a bit of a loss with what to say.

"i think i fucked up, grace. i think i really, really fucked up," will frowned deeply as all the feelings he's tried pushing away for months began resurfacing.

"will..you didn't..fuck up. did you make a bad choice on rash thoughts? yeah. you didn't completely fuck up though," grace tried reassuring her brother even though she couldn't quite back his decisions.

"i should've talked to her more. i don't..i don't know what i was thinking. i thought i was letting her go for the better, but anytime i see her anywhere i wish i could call her and everything was how it used to be," now will was crying.

"it's not too late to talk. reach out to her. tell her you wanna talk or something."

"i can't. she blocked me on everything so even if i wanted to talk to her, i physically can't," the younger boy frowned deeply.

"do you want me to mention something?" grace offered softly.

"no, that's gonna make me look stupid. she doesn't wanna talk to me and i don't blame her," a long sigh fell from will's lips.

"look, we all do stupid shit when we're 18. she definitely does wanna talk to you. you guys were best friends once upon a time. that kind of bond doesn't disappear that easily. is there any time soon you'll be out near michigan or something?"

"i don't know. days off are random sometimes and unpredictable," will shrugged even though grace couldn't see him.

"maybe talk to gabe and ryan. they could make something happen. i know they're rooting for you two as much as i am to get back together or at least talk," will knew his older sister had a point. he should talk to gabe and ryan, but then they'd just tell him i told you so and harp on him.

"i don't know. i'll see. i should let you go," will mumbled.

"i'm always here to talk, will. it's gonna work out, i promise," the hockey player really wanted to believe his sister's words and he hoped to god it was true.

—

"wow, look who's calling first," ryan grinned through the screen when the call connected. will rolled his eyes a bit, but smiled when he saw his friends on his computer screen.

"you look like shit," gabe commented upon seeing will's red eyes and puffy cheeks.

"fuck off," the blonde mumbled.

"i'm kidding. it's good to see you. you had a hella game the other night," the dark-haired boy cheered.

"dude, you put those older guys to shame. like you were flying," ryan laughed making will laugh as well.

"thanks, it was pretty cool taking some of the veterans down. they're gonna be after me now."

"yeah, no shit. i think everyone now knows why you decided to sign on so early," gabe grinned.

their compliments had will flushing with pride. he's been working hard to prove himself these last few games and he was glad it was all finally paying off.

"by the way, halloween was so legendary this year. we went to like four different parties," ryan chuckled.

"i bet it's crazy in california," gabe wondered as the topic shifted.

"yeah, it is pretty crazy out here. so crazy i even hooked up with someone.." will began which had gabe and ryan's eyebrows raising.

"wait, you hooked up with someone? who?"

"uh..i don't really know her name, but i think..i think i regret it. i thought it would like..help me realize breaking up with samy was the right choice, but it didn't. i just thought about her the entire time.." will felt almost ashamed admitting this to his friends.

"oh."

"you're gonna tell me i told you so, but i know i fucked up now. i..i shouldn't have broken up with samy. i thought it would be better for both of us, but i just really miss her and i wish i could talk to her or something," the blonde frowned.

"you're saying this now? six months after the fact?" gabe raised his eyebrows.

"oh come on, give me a break. i was stupid, i know. i finally realize that now. i don't know what to do," upon seeing their friend's face, gabe and ryan saw how torn up will was about everything. they knew he really regretted everything that happened.

"i just don't get why you didn't talk to her more about this before you even decided to break up? you know she would've talked with you about whatever you were worried about," ryan said.

"it was a bad decision during very rash thoughts. i was overwhelmed and a mess back in may. i got scared and pushed her away like i do to everything. you guys don't need to tell me how much i fucked up. i know already," will huffed.

the three fell silent for a moment. will pulled a hand through his hair while gabe and ryan spoke with their eyes.

"a few of us are going to michigan over winter break to samy's lake house. if you can find some free time, you should come out. i think samy would like to see you. you two can finally talk maybe," gabe finally said.

"i'll think about it," will nodded. could he actually fly out to michigan and see samy after not speaking to her or seeing her for eight months though? the idea sent will's head spinning and not in a good way.

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etherealsworldvision · 20 hours

Text

Let’s Soothe Your Mind

Before I begin the reading I’d like to take a moment to talk about Save The Redwoods. They’re a non-profit organization who is committed to protect and restore redwood forests. If you’re interested do check out their website and if you’d like to further your support here is their donation link.

Divider Credits: @ianrkives & @plum98

New Song Discovery for the Reading: Reservations – Dugong Jr, Julia Lostrom, Keelan Mak

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

🚨 P.S.A 🚨 : I do not give personal readings! Disclaimer: this is for entertainment only!

Added Description: all my readings are timeless and meant to reach those who resonate to the messages.

[ General Messages: Rain; Autumn; Libra and Leo Seasons, “My love do you ever dream of candy coated raindrops”- Candy Rain by Soul for Real, Longboards (Skateboarding and Surfing); Raya the Last Dragon; Dewdrop; Spicy (foods); Avatar the Last Airbender; Fire Flakes; Honeydew; Drinks; Tantrums; Saturn Hour; Saturn Placements and Aspects; (Smithsonian) Museums; 1010; Kendrick Lamar; Trouble - Taylor Swift; Caught Up; Cheat; Exclusion; (Reaction) Memes; Distrust; Camping; Tents; Connections; Frustration; Online ]

Pile 1

[ Cards: Justice; Moon Reversed; Ace of Wands; Seven of Cups Reversed; Two of Wands ]

Confirmation Messages: Gojo & Geto; Anxiety (Playlist); “Get off of me/Ew get away,” (directed towards emotions feeling stuck to your body or feels like “bugs” crawling on skin); Anxiousness; Nervousness; Shadow and Bones (?); Shadow Hunters; Slowing Down; Chaotic Energy; Out of Control; Bugs; (Breaking) Habits; Messy Thoughts; Strategic; “Playing it Cool”; Patrick Star?; Hares; Hates Feeling Emotions; Pink Flowers (Real or Artificial); Systems Down; Mewing (?)

Something new might have happened or you feel like this is the universe (or whoever you believe in) giving you something. This energy feels like Carl and Cindy’s interaction (from Jimmy Neutron). In this case you’re Carl and Cindy is the universe lol. Maybe you were in a rut or had a cycle of “unfortunate events” in regard to circumstances or people.

If you’re asking for clarification: You have free will — it’s up to you whether you want to continue what you’re doing or not. I’m not sensing anything “bad” or “malicious” intent in regards to what/who you’re inquiring about. There’s this sense of catastrophizing new things. There’s also this feeling of “too good to be true”. I don’t know if you said/thought/felt this: “I need a fucking break” is strongly coming in.

So now that you have this break — it’s almost like you don’t know what to do or how to proceed. It’s as if you’re holding a globe but you don’t get to actually go anywhere. Maybe at one point you did get experience with this, only to be let down? Either way having no control is what’s scaring you and causing this anxiousness (especially if this deals with a person).

What’s coming in for those who are iffy about proceeding: “let them, just let them because you are your own before and after meeting this person”. This can also deal with a situation too — as in this doesn’t define you. There is no need to punish/blame yourself for being afraid/ not taking this offer. It just means you weren’t ready and that’s okay. Go at your own pace.

For those of you who want to proceed with this situation/person then you’ll have to let down your walls bit by bit. Again it’s okay to go at your own pace or ask to slow down. The same applies: “let them”. The door is always open so let them or “let you”. You can always set it down and move to the next one. It’s okay.

Bonus Question to Ask Yourself: “What did I keep doing that keeps hurting? Why do I keep repeating this behavior?” - by WNRS

So that’s all that I’m getting for pile 1. If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading this, I really appreciate it. If this resonates let me know. I am supporting you through and through 🧡!

Pile 2

[ Cards: Three of Swords Reversed; 3 of Pentacles Reversed; 6 of Swords; 5 of Pentacles Reversed; 9 Of Swords; 3 of Wands ]

Confirmation Messages: Courage; Charli XCX (Brat album); The Sun; Music; Concerts; Celebrity; Billie Eilish; Air and Earth Placements; Careless; Responsibility; Overthinker; New Things; Success; Moving On; 55; 66; 333; 9; Truth; Waiting; Patience; Releasing Judgement; Let it flow; Getting or Wanting Numbers? Holding Back; Calculated Risks; Chappell Roan; Doechii; Temptation - Raveena; Gemini; Aries

So I’m feeling like you’re releasing this heartache (for some it could be from your past?) I don’t know why, I pulled a clarification and it’s the 10 of Cups and I heard “No that’s so scary, Boo Feelings and Happiness!” So maybe you’re afraid of things working out because you were always let down in the past.

I feel like this can be about a connection (?) — there’s a lot of air coming in which means social lives. This may have come when things just started to calm down or in the midst of healing? To be honest this pile’s energy tends to overthink a lot. Like I feel like there’s this thing where you’re scared of saying the wrong thing which makes you take a step back only to make the overthinking worse. Maybe you’re asking friends what to do because I split the deck and saw 3 of Cups.

For some reason I feel like you need more reassurance so I’ll just pull out more cards for you. So I got the 2 of cups and the Eight of Wands (reversed), Judgement, and the Emperor. The first thing I’m picking up is that: you two may have opposite personalities or are awake at different times because we have two blue cards and two gold cards.

I’m also getting that the pace is painfully slow despite things going smoothly. It’s like you want to take control but you’re aware it won’t go smoothly if you rush it. For some of you there’s this thing of being afraid to take the “lead” or being pressured by society to take the lead.

(Side note: I don’t know who needs to hear this but there’s no hierarchy in a connection. There’s no, “who wears the pants” or whatever heteronormative stuff that gets constantly pushed into connections. What makes a connection work is when both people see each other as equals and accepting of one another)

You’re going to hate me for this but…it takes time and teamwork for a connection to work out. So yeah, go at your own comfortable pace (not a pace society tells you to go by) and enjoy the present time. For some reason I really have to “hammer it in” to take your time; let this connection take its time. Let things fall into place all on its own and if you feel called to do something (meaning the timing is right) then by all means take that initiative.

When you let things slowly progress you will also get a better understanding and feel of this person, from there you can see if you want to proceed or not.

Bonus Questions to Ask Yourself: “When have I given too much of myself in a relationship (could also be platonic)? What did that look like? What lesson did that leave me with?” - WNRS

That’s really all I’m getting, to be honest this reading is so chaotic and so long even though it barely reached 5 paragraphs. If you made it this far thank you so much, I appreciate it. I’m wishing you luck and please take your time!

Pile 3

[ Cards: Queen of Pentacles; 7 of Swords; Justice; Five of Cups Reversed; 8 of Pentacles; 7 of Cups; 7 of Pentacles ]

Confirmation Messages: Horror Games; Paranormal; Libra; Yellowjackets; Birds of a Feather; Unrequited; Nevada; Winter; Baby Powder; Scents; Insincerity; Friday; Outcasts; Water(falls); Late Spring; (Couples) Therapy; 777; (Down by the Water) PJ Harvey; Library; Goth (Music); Unknown; Earth Placement; Situationship; Clear Mind; Tiredness; “Success is the Best Revenge”; Lana Del Rey; Distractions; Cheating; 1:23

You may have left a connection or felt this person was dishonest. I think what made it worse is outside advice (which is ironic because y’know we’re here lol). Perhaps someone gave you the, “time heals all wounds” or “it’s okay! Just get pretty and focus on your job!” Only to feel dread, I’m not going to lie. I don’t know if you put a limit to your sadness because there’s this sense of, “I should be over this by now.” I feel like some of you did achieve this success/glow up you wanted yet still feel grief.

Honestly, it’s okay to grieve as long as you want to. There is no time limit to feel grief and sadness. Realistically speaking, grief stays with us. Grief can come in the form of memories popping up or when you feel nostalgic — that’s a part of grief and that’s okay. All we can do is look at them and see them for who they are and what they did. (Now, I’m not excusing their actions at all!) For example; it’s one of those things where someone waits for years to get closure only to get nothing and in the end they accept they’ll never get it.

I know this may sound bitter and for some bittersweet, but let the grief flow. You’re not crying over “spilt milk”, for all we know it’s not just spilt milk! Maybe it was milk you got with your hard earned money and now you don’t have milk because you just spent the last portions of your money so you can wipe your ass! So no, it’s not just milk! (lol sorry I just hate when the 5 of cups gets that connotation — there’s always something deeper to it.)

Look, distracting yourself out of emotions via deep diving in your work isn’t always the best thing to do. Sometimes you need silence (no music or sounds!) and sit with yourself. Really sit, lay or something with yourself and be vulnerable. Sit with that feeling for just a minute (not drown in it) because it’s asking to be acknowledged. Acknowledgment is a key to acceptance and with that comes the healing.

I feel like when you do acknowledge your grief, come to terms with the situation/person for who they are it’ll make the healing process bearable. I’m not saying it’ll be easier and you’ll be happy at a flip of a coin. I’m just saying because of this acceptance you may find you’re not doing your work/hobbies/goals for the sake of revenge but because it’s for you. You’re doing these things because you love it or for your own happiness/fulfillment.

Bonus Question to Ask Yourself: “What’s my favorite song at the moment? Why do I love it so much? (Play it for yourself)”. - by WNRS

Alrighty Pile 3 that’s all I got for you, thank you so much for reading until the very end! I appreciate it. I'm giving you some peace and love 🧡.

#Spotify #pick a card #pick a card reading #tarot #tarot pick a card #tarotblr #pick a picture #tarot readers of tumblr #tarotreading #earth placements #air placements #Gemini #gemini placements #aries season #aries placements #aries #gemini season

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ranticore · 2 days

Note

Hi has anyone ever told you Ice Storm Over Kosa has impeccable vibes and feels incredibly innovative and fresh!

In terms of the towns and communities, what types of infrastructure connects them? What kinds of technologies are common vs cutting edge in the setting’s different time periods?

hehe thank you.. i really like how the setting tag is just one of the character's names so it looks like you're saying He has impeccable vibes

So there is a huge huge almost insurmountable limiting factor when it comes to the growth of towns and communities, which is that large aggregations of living creatures will attract the crawly beasts and they pollute the earth, make crops wither and die away, kill livestock, kill people, etc, and humans can't even touch them with protective gloves on since the crawlers' fluids eat through leather

humanity (and monsters) were forced to spread out over a larger surface area. villages and settlements are small and have to be actively defended almost nightly. there has been a slight stagnation of the march of progress, as just fighting off this threat takes up so much of everyone's resources, and forbids institutes of learning and the like from forming. so most of the technological advancements we see, they are in the field of long-range communication, weaponry (falconry too), and material technology that might repel crawling beasts

in prehistory, the land now called "the Ama plains" hosted a gigantic city with a hundred thousand people living in it, called Amphora. it was very advanced for its time period, with working plumbing, hot and cold water even, mass production of cloth and food, etc (not to mention the magic). Amphora no longer exists and most of its innovations were lost.

in the early time period after the arrival of the crawling beasts, humanity and monsterkind are scattered. the only established settlements are those guarded by wyrms, but it took many centuries to reach that point. human towns are ruled by small feudal lords who may form loose alliances with one another but typically rule their land as if it's a lone island in the middle of a vast sea. this is the time of Revelation's march. the most established settlement is the city of Onozar in the far west of Ama, which is ruled by a king who has a hold over many of the neighbouring towns and lords, by virtue of Onozar's size and relative safety. technology levels are low; no firearms, trebuchets and crossbows are cutting edge.

in the time of Twist and Flicker, there is an age of unprecedented cooperation with monsters (Revelation's march might have had something to do with this change). This means that towns and villages are now usually protected by something other than a wyrm - this ranges from willing cooperation to cruel self-styled 'monster tamers' who force monsters to do their bidding. This is the dawning age of harpy falconry as described in the lil story i wrote about Ice Storm of Kosa himself, though back then the old method was to make a contract with an adult harpy and cooperate that way. The infrastructure is still not very advanced; they're still struggling with plumbing and sewage systems, because crawlies come out of the ground and their poison can seep into aquifers. Anyway communication between towns is usually done by pigeon (or pigeon harpy). The ground is not a safe place to be, so houses are typically built on short stilts, or at the very least, residential rooms are upstairs. Water supply is often provided by elevated aqueducts; wells are a last resort, but often the only choice for impoverished villages. There is a culture of fear surrounding large gatherings and groups - sometimes it's unavoidable, and human/monster nature, but that anxiety is always there.

With this increased cooperation between humans and monsters, people are able to gather in larger groups. this enables more learning, more apprenticeships, more farmlands, and a more rapid development of technology. It also means a more centralised ruling system begins to form; it takes a lot of resources to supply a pack of wolfmen or a harpy flock to defend a town, so small towns must make petitions to their more prosperous neighbours, and this develops into a Government of the entire region. firearms develop in this time as a means to kill crawling beasts; they are not that successful, and it takes a while before people realise you can use firearms to kill other things, too.

A century later, developments are progressing well enough. Firearms are still rare but starting to spread. Harpy falconers have developed a new, effective technique for their art, it's called "kidnapping"; steal an egg, and raise the chick to imprint on its human parents. that way it won't want to leave. There is a sense of teetering on an edge; humanity leaning more into forcing monsters to help, instead of cooperating. But this is not the progression; the success of the Kosa flock helps convince many falconers that the kidnapping method isn't the best after all. technology is still uh bad, but this is an era where writing materials are finally becoming more mainstream, literacy rates are slowly rising. the printing press is the hot new thing. they have water towers now to provide the plumbing at a safe elevation. communication between villages is still very dove-based, since flight is the safest method of travel.

fire is the only thing that both kills and neutralises the poison of a crawling beast. by this time, progress has been made to develop "automatic fire machines". so all the R&D people put into guns in the real world was put into flamethrowers instead. it's easy enough to rig up a system that pumps out burning oil, but these devices are usually stationary, heavy, and fixed at the gates of the various more prosperous town walls.

#i realised that using time periods like '1700s' or '1800s' doesn't really make sense here.. i'll need to name the ages properly #ice storm over kosa #idk how well i answered the question. i have a lot more to think about especially the cultural hangups that would have developed #and also how war itself would have changed #I FORGOT TO HIT PUBLISH. THIS IS THE POST WITH THE STORY LINK

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breakfastteatime · 2 days

Text

Today's Survivor request is 'Echo' for @animatedjen

Master Cordova joins Cal in the stacks of holobooks, the elder Jedi radiating such a sense of peace and belonging Cal can’t decide if he wants to ask how he does it or run away and hide in shame.

He takes the secret third option and simply says, “Hi.”

“Hello, my friend,” Master Cordova says. “I take it you are finding plenty to occupy your mind.”

BD laughs louder than Cal, and he dodges Cal’s half-hearted swat, leaping onto Master Cordova’s shoulders for cover. “Plenty, thank you,” Cal says.

BD does a jig and tells Master Cordova Cal wouldn’t know how to not occupy his mind even if his life depended on it.

“Well then, perhaps I can pick your mind for a while.”

“Sure, although I’m not sure there’s much I can tell you that you don’t already know. Unless it’s about Venator deconstruction. There’s a good chance I know more about that than most people.”

“If it’s alright with you, I wonder if I might make use of your psychometry.” Master Cordova holds up his hands. “Please, do tell me if I am stepping out of line. You owe me nothing, and I do not wish for you to feel like a performing bogling.”

Hearing Cal being compared to a bogling is apparently the funniest thing BD has ever heard, and he cackles so much he almost falls from his perch. Cal shakes his head, promises Master Cordova it’s fine, and follows him to a small chamber off to the side of the main archive. Inside, a small collection of artifacts awaits them. An Anchorite bows, wishes them both a good day in a melodic voice, and slips out to leave the three of them alone. Master Cordova shows him what appear to be Zeffo artifacts – Cal recognises the art style and the script. While BD scans, Cal runs his hand over them, echoes singing as they always do. Those on the surface belong to Master Cordova and shimmer with the excitement of discovery. Diving deeper, Cal reaches further into the past. There, deeper down, the original carver’s emotions. Pride at being asked to create an image of the Sage Eilram, the Life Wind guiding mind and hands to create perfection. Cal reports his findings to Master Cordova. “Sorry, nothing to say where the Zeffo went.”

Master Cordova shakes his head. “I expected nothing of the kind. Now, may I ask for one more?” This time, the artifact he reveals is distinctly Jedi in origin.

A lightsaber hilt. Its ostentatiously curved hilt and intricate carvings suggest it is a relic of a bygone age, even more bygone than the one Cal grew up in. Lightsabers were sleek, functional from what he remembers. This? This is art. Curious, Cal touches it.

She raises her weapon, a final salute to her enemy, to her Padawan, to the Force, to the Jedi Order who went to such pains to train her. The Sith are coming, and she cannot allow them to pass. Deep breath. Release your fear. The Force is your ally, you are a conduit. She ignites a brilliant blue blade and swings into battle and –

His master is gone. Dead. Not even a body left to cremate. She took many of the Sith out with her, their bodies scattered where only her robes remained. He opens the lightsaber piece by piece and takes the crystal nestled within. Reconstructing it, he places it in its final resting place with all the other weapons of the honoured dead.

Cal opens his eyes. Master Cordova watches intently. Embarrassed to be the focus of such focused attention, Cal hands over the lightsaber hilt and shares its story. “Where did you find it?”

“In an ancient temple, one so old even my old friend Jocasta Nu knew little about it,” Master Cordova explains. “I found it in a small nook. There were many such nooks in the wall, but this was the only lightsaber that remained. Cal, the wars with the Sith are ancient. The echo remains that powerful?”

“Yes.”

Master Cordova seems delighted. “What a wonder it is to know that we truly do become part of the Force, immutable within it.”

“I’m sorry you can’t perceive it the way I can,” Cal says.

“Oh, my friend, there is no need to apologise! Just hearing about these few things is enough for me.”

A subtle, no, evil laugh emanates from a certain droid. Master Cordova could ask Cal to find more echoes in the room. In fact, Cal would love to do so, wouldn’t you, Cal?

Cal shrugs. “I don’t mind.”

Master Cordova lights up.

It’s Cere who comes to rescue Cal hours later. She suggests they all go for lunch, and subtly pulls Cal aside while Master Cordova and BD go on ahead. “Here.” She slips a pair of pills into his hand. “You don’t have a migraine, do you?”

He takes the pills, swallowing them dry. “Nah, just a headache,” he says honestly. “Takes a lot more these days to trigger anything more serious.”

She stares at him. He shrugs. “It’s been a while, Cere.”

“Too long,” she says, her hand squeezing his.

#fic requests 2024 #star wars jedi: survivor #jedi survivor spoilers #cal kestis #bd 1 #eno cordova #cere junda #you know master cordova would be desperate to make cal find as many echoes as possible #jedi survivor minific #jedi survivor headcanon

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unhinged-simp · 1 day

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I’m a new follower haha, I am super happy that you are taking requests! I love the students from hotarubi so much!! I am also a hotarubian (at least according to the house sorting in the early game). Would you mind writing a soulmate AU for the hotarubi characters? Thanks a lot!!!

Soulmate AU with the Hotarubi boys.

I don't mind at all! This was my first time doing a soulmate au, so I hope it turned out good. I was also sorted into Hotarubi, and I love all of them(though Subaru's my favorite). I didn't really change anything except for the soulmate part, so I did skip around a bit.

Each boy has a different soulmate prompt for variety. I’ll label the ones I used. I decided to use the prologue for Haku, since that's when we meet him.

Spoilers for the Hotarubi chapter

Subaru: Same markings

You had always wanted to find your soulmate. The same person that shares the mark you have on your skin.

Despite your best efforts, you haven't found them yet.

Years passed on, and you just decided to give up.

In the end, you ended up forgetting about your soulmate. Perhaps you’d find them sooner rather than later.

You were on an assignment from Darkwick to inspect Hotarubi. And you were going to meet the Captain.

He came in and knelt before you, and introduced himself. However you caught a glimpse at the mark on his hand, one that matched yours.

“It's you,” you said, confusing both Haru and Subaru.

“What?” Subaru asked.

“The mark on your hand. It's the same as mine.”

You showed him your hand. His eyes widened at the sight.

“So you’re my soulmate.”

Haku: First word said to each other

“All right. Let's get out of here for starters.” Were the words written on your arm.

You had often questioned them, like why were those the first words your soulmate said to you?

Then you got saved from an anomaly, and almost got thrown out of the train by the boy who saved you. Fortunately you were saved by another boy.

“All right. Let's get out of here for starters,” he said. You tried to say something, but the boy played his flute and you fell asleep.

When you woke up, the train was back to normal.

“Sorry, but I’m still here,” the boy said, watching you from the seat beside you.

“Huh? Aha-” You nearly fell to the ground due to your injured leg.

“Whoops, looks like we injured a civilian.”

“Wait a second,” you yell. The boy looks up.

“What is it?” He asks.

“You're my soulmate,” you exclaim, showing him your arm. The boy looks down at his arm.

“Well, what do you know,” he mutters.

Zenji: Red Strings

You had often stared at the red string wrapped around your pinky.

You wondered what your soulmate was like, and how you would meet.

But something happened. One day, a year before you had come to Darkwick, your string turned black, and was cut.

You were heartbroken. Why did this happen? Did something happen to your soulmate?

Then after working on a mission, Haku took you and Subaru to the teahouse, and revealed the third ghoul in Hotarubi.

“Are you Zenji?” You asked the boy now in front of you. He seemed ecstatic that you could see him.

“You can see me, my dear?” He asked. And when you nod, he grabs your hand in delight.

Then the dead string that you had on your pinky reacted. It reached out to connect to the dead string on Zenji’s finger.

“You’re-” you started, before you were interrupted by the happy crying of Zenji.

“My dear.”

#tokyo debunker x reader #tokyo debunker #subaru x reader #haku x reader #zenji x reader #subaru #haku #zenji kotodama

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womenofthearchiveszine · 3 days

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Interest Check Results!

Thank you so much for replying to our interest check! We had 87 responses (wow!) and are grateful for all of the interest. Here is a quick summary of our results:

Of the 87 responses, 84% of you are interested in contributing, whatever medium that may be. We can't wait to see all of your lovely applications.

People are most excited to see stickers, prints, buttons, Discord emotes and digital wallpapers from our merchandise ideas.

The characters people are most excited to see are Agnes, Melanie, Sasha, and Georgie. For those of you who listed obscure or one off characters, we love you.

After lots of great suggestions, we have decided that proceeds from this zine will go towards Her Justice which provides needed legal services for women in New York City. You can read more about Her Justice here: https://herjustice.org/about-her-justice/who-we-serve/

We have not made any decisions whether this zine will be digital or physical. There is a lot of interest in both types. The mod team has decided that our final format of the zine will depend on who we take as a designing mod and what they are comfortable designing. Thank you all for applying! Mod applications will be going up shortly. We will be reaching out to potential contributing writers and artists very soon!

#the magnus archives #the magnus protocol #women of the archives fanzine

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kaiju-art-for-the-heart · 1 day

Text

An Heir to the Throne: Field Research

Chapter 4

WARNING!

This chapter contains slight nsfw mentions of a giant radioactive lizard and celestial moth getting it on. If you do not wish to have your eyeballs cursed by such mentions, skip the first two paragraphs until you reach the tilde(~) line. Or the whole chapter if its not your cup of tea.

Thank you for reading and enjoy!

It has been quite eventful for the Monarch scientists these past few months. Between studying the portals of hollow earth, keeping tabs on the other kaiju, and attempting to keep up with Kongs new tribe activities, they had their hands full. Though recently, they've been putting extra special attention into the current relationship between Gojira and Mosura. Before this, everyone assumed Godzilla was near emotionless aside from angry and territorial. What once was a destructive, calculated murder machine was now studied to be calm, capable of showing affection, and most surprising of all, incredibly gentle. The sudden changes of behavior was studied to be towards Mothra, and Mothra alone. Any other Kaiju or creature he encountered got the usual cold shoulder. This has intrigued the scientists intensely, and has been a very successful excuse to keep the worlds governments away from the couple. Though recently, Monarch made a legendary discovery after studying a large shift in behavior between the two. Godzilla had been leaving their territory less frequently, Mothra was recorded leaving only once to get "fresh air", and a strange frequency had been recorded from the two Kaiju multiple times. After some digging, and very intensive snooping, the scientists discovered the large titans had been courting each other, in attempts to mate.

This new information had blown all other studies out of the water to have every focus on them. From researchers arguing over who would be dedicated to 24 hour watch, to archivists scrambling to find any information on the two mating before, everyone was attempting to get a glimpse at this incredibly rare phenomena. Their performance was that no one had ever seen before. It was obvious the two had no confirmed form of mating, as they tried many different ways and techniques to get the job done. The most frequent position they liked to return to was dubbed The Hoover Maneuver by other scientists. After a week in a half, the queen and king had seemed to finish their mate. By then, all Monarch personnel had known, and was fascinated by the idea. What made them do this? Would there be a hybrid lizard-moth monster on the way? And most importantly, will it be safe?

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The evening sky was quite calm today. The blazing sun seemed to get farther and farther as the weeks passed by, causing the days to become just a tiny bit chiller. Within those weeks, Mothra had been resting intensely. Her aching body healed bit by bit as Godzilla attended to her every need. Her mind had been racing with everything, all at once. Excitement, fear, worry, and the occasional bits of anger swirled around her thoughts rabidly. Thousands upon thousands of years of being alive, and yet this was something new. Something she had never experienced before, and it was a very intense thrill. Sitting herself up, she found the strength to make it out of the nest and onto the beach. The sand that was far hotter during the day, was cool and comforting underneath her. Her body sank into it instantly, its grainy texture always felt interesting to her. As it encased the rest of her body, she sighed happily in recognition of her current state. Her abdomen was much heavier, and larger than before. Usually this meant she was ready to lay her egg, but this was much different. She didn't feel nearly the same as before, from the constant feeding to her body aching. The timing was also quite peculiar. She was no where near ready to lay her egg, which usually only took about a week to do so. She was curious if this was what all mothers go through when producing offspring. As her eyes looked endlessly into the starry night sky, Godzilla had finally returned with her dinner.

His eyes lit up as he saw her. He wasn't expecting to see her up and about like this, it was relieving to say the least. Mothra's state had seemed to only decline to him, she wasn't nearly as energetic as before. Her usual chipper mood was drowned out with exhaustion most days. Though she didn't have as much energy, she still showed her excitement to Godzilla whenever she could. Her eager chirps and trills assured him that she was ok, and that this was only temporary. As he approached, a soft humming vibration emitted from him to match her eager singing.

"I have returned my queen.." Godzilla's voice muffled, something obviously lodged within his jaws. Mothra looked up at him curiously, he normally brought back some type of sea creature for them to dine on. What could possibly be in his mouth? Maybe he had no luck hunting and had to catch smaller? She tilted her head a bit before motioning for him to settle down with her. Before she could ask, Godzilla leaned down to plop an arrangement of different flowers, plants, and fruits in front of her. All she could do was stare in shock as it all fell down piece by piece. While many were record breakingly large (by human standards) she recognized it was all her favorite snacks. It wasnt the first time he had been so kind to cater to her diet, but this was the largest amount she's ever seen him collect. It must have taken him all day to find, meaning he may not have eaten himself. As the thoughts swirled around her mind, her heart was filled to the brim with overwhelming joy.

Godzilla swished his tongue around his mouth, making sure he got out every inch of plant. He hated the taste, it was far too bitter and made his teeth feel weird afterwards. As far as he could remember, Mothra enjoyed feasting on vegetation far more than any meat. He knew this, and yet he had only brought them back a handful of times for her. Even though he preferred their usual catch of tender meat, his will was stronger than his stomach as he scavenged to find as many of her favorites as possible. He applauded himself for somehow remembering most of them, it was far more difficult to actually find them more than anything. He wanted her to be happy, to eat how she liked for a while without worry of becoming sick. It didn't matter to him if he skipped a few meals to hunt for only her, anything for his queen. Finally content with his veggie-free teeth, his eyes settled back onto her, surprised by how happy she had become.

"Why.. did you do this Goji?" she asked quietly, her eyes scanning through the pile of goodies for her choosing. Godzilla thought for a moment before finally settling in next to her, his tail wrapping around her comfortably. "To feed my queen." he huffed, gently grooming her wings to calm her. If moths could cry, she would have been a sniffling mess by now. She squeaked out a sincere 'Thank you' before quickly chowing down on her feast. Though it was an incredibly large amount of food, most of it disappeared within a few minutes. Godzilla watched in awe as she ate, she was far more ravenous now than what she was a couple weeks ago. He knew from this point, it was far more important for her to eat than anything. After a moment, Mothra regained herself as she contently groomed her raptorial legs. As interesting as it was to watch, Godzilla pushed aside his amusement to nuzzle into her neck. "Shall I take you to the nest my darling?" he purred, his bioluminescence shinning brightly as she nuzzled back into him. "Yes my king, let us rest now." she agreed, lifting herself out of the sand to crawl onto Godzilla's back. As she settled contently between his dorsal plates, Godzilla's attention instantly turned to the small drone that had been hovering around them for a while. His famous scowl returned as his eyes locked onto the small metal contraption. 'Its already starting' he thought to himself, lifting out of the sand and staring directly into the lens of the drone. A low growl bellowed from him as he watched the drone quickly turned away to flee the scene.

"Is something the matter?" Mothra yawned, lifting her head to make sure there was no trouble. Godzilla made sure the drone had disappeared before turning his attention away. "No, rest my queen. All is fine." he assured her, beginning the short trek back to their nest. This was going to be a long couple of weeks.

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As the drone made its way back to the closest Monarch base, the scientists had been eagerly awaiting its arrival. Many scrambled to document every small interaction and detail the drone was able to record, while others forwarded the footage to other larger bases. Though they knew it was a dangerous game to lurk around them, the possibility of missing any crucial information was too high. After word quickly got around and the footage was thoroughly analyzed, it was deducted that Mothra was indeed ready to lay. Though it was obvious Godzilla was becoming far more protective of his territory and his mate. With quick thinking and strategic planning, new spy equipment was produced to blend in with the flora and fauna of the land around them. Though some where skeptical, the equipment seemed to work well enough to go undetected for its first week. A successful test that was now their ticket to worry free studying.

#godzilla #godzilla x kong: the new empire #gojira #kaiju #kotm #mosura #mothra #mothra x godzilla #mothzilla #monsterverse #fanfic #I like this one so far

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