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bishopsbeloved · 4 months

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the art of falling in love (part two)

natasha romanoff x fem reader (high school au)

best friend!yelena belova, aroace!yelena belova, internalised homophobia, found family trope, coming of age, angst, fluff (eventual happy ending)

read this fic on ao3!

A good few months have passed, now, since that night in the laundry closet. The harsh Ohio winter begins to melt away to a much more gentle spring, and as the world around you blossoms, so do the relations between you and Natasha.

They remain secret, of course. The novelty of sneaking around has not yet worn off, and so for now whatever is blooming between the two of you remains concealed in a cloak of deceit. You can’t help but feel a little guilty for lying to Yelena, your best friend in the entire world, but the blonde doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss. Whenever Nat can tell it’s bugging you, she does her best to calm you down, pressing kisses to the places that she knows will make you forget everything except her. Pretending in front of others is hard, acting as though everything’s the same as it was before and as though the absolute love of your life doesn’t send you good morning and goodnight texts, but it’s made absolutely worth it by the attention she does give you when you’re alone.

It’s nearly four months in, now, and you’re still struggling to believe she’s choosing to do things with you. You — her gangly little sister’s scrawny best friend. There’s no doubt in the fact that she could have anyone at your school, senior or otherwise, and the fact that she has chosen you over everyone else in the world quite often makes your head spin, and you have to drop what you’re doing and go and touch her just to remind yourself that this is reality. You’ve wanted this for so long, since you were able to understand what loving someone in this capacity means, and her reciprocation is quite literally incomprehensible to you.

Well… maybe reciprocation is a slight leap. Even though she’s the one who kissed you first, who instigated this whole relationship, she becomes a little flighty whenever you bring up anything more serious — taking her out on a date, or talking about what will happen between the two of you after she graduates. It stings a little (a lot) to think that you might just be a secret for her, someone she would be embarrassed to be seen in public with. That’s been your number one fear since the moment you were sentient enough to comprehend your feelings for her; the crippling fear that you’re not good enough for her. Her, the perfect popular cheerleader and you, who’s decidedly not that. Every moment that you remain a secret is like a constant reminder that those fears are true. The fact that this might be true and that she is ashamed of her relations with you is something you’ve trained yourself to not think about because you start to get all twitchy if you do.

So that’s how it stays. You try to shut off your mind and keep sneaking around with Natasha, trying not to think of the future or of the day that she will inevitably toss you away like a toy she’s no longer interested in, and trying to enjoy the fact that she sees you as worthy enough of any attention at all.

Right now, it’s the last day of school before spring break — and to celebrate, the Starks are throwing a party tonight at their McMansion. It’s all anyone has been talking about since Tony stood up on a lunch table in the cafeteria and announced it himself last week. You were there for the announcement, sat at your usual table tucked away in the corner with your group of friends. It’s a small posse, but you’re very close-knit; consisting only of Darcy Lewis, Wanda Maximoff, Makkari Eternal, Yelena Belova (of course), and you by extension (you’re often teased by the others that you’re attached at the hip, and it’s true, in many ways). As soon as Tony stepped down from his makeshift podium, the whole cafeteria erupted into noise, and Darcy began to excitedly plan who she would ask to go with her.

Your stomach turned involuntarily at the thought of pretending that you’re available, and tolerating your friends’ (mostly Darcy’s) matchmaking attempts for the millionth time. Before you could even stop yourself, you found your gaze wandering to Natasha on the other side of the cafeteria, where she sat with her own (decidedly larger) group of friends. To your surprise you found her already looking at you wistfully. The two of you shared eye contact for a moment, something oddly intimate for such a public setting. At least you could take some form of comfort in the fact that you weren’t the only one in this relationship uncomfortable in pretending you aren’t accounted for.

“Earth to Y/N,” Darcy hums loudly, and you blink as she snaps her fingers in front of your face. “Welcome back, space cadet. We’re talking about —”

“The party,” you finish for her tiredly. You weren’t planning to go at all, but Darcy’s coerced you into it, promising you’ll only have to stay a couple hours. You didn’t have the energy to fight with her, lord knows how insistent she can be, so you ended up giving in — on the condition that she wouldn’t set you up with anyone tonight. She just grins at you though, seemingly amused by your determined lack of enthusiasm.

Darcy is trying to pair us all off with someone, Makkari informs you long-sufferingly. How unpredictable. (Sometimes you forget that most of the people your age haven’t been hopelessly in love for all of their lives, and actually enjoy putting themselves out there, while not feeling awfully guilty that they’re betraying someone.)

“And Makkari was next on the list!” Darcy signs and speaks, so that Wanda (whose nose is buried in a cloth-bound book) can still hear what’s going on. “You and Druig would be cute together, I think.”

The visceral disgust on Makkari’s face is so intense that Yelena bursts out laughing.

“Don’t laugh, I’m serious,” Darcy complains, even though she’s smiling too.

That is revolting, Makkari tells her with feeling . That man is… a brother to me. And I’ve been told he’s a shit kisser anyway.

“He can learn,” Darcy replies with confidence. Makkari performs a very rude and elaborate gesture. “Hmm, who next… Yelena, you got your eye on anyone?”

Yelena shakes her head vehemently. “No. No, thank you.”

That’s a lie, Makkari comments. I see you and — She fingerspells a name much too quickly for any of you to catch it, and you all lean forward in confusion. Makkari rolls her eyes and spells out the name again, slowly, and then even slower again at the blank looks on your faces. K—A—T—

“Kate Bishop,” supplies Wanda dryly, looking up from her book.

Thank you, Makkari says exasperatedly, while Darcy gasps, clapping her hands together in delight and Yelena’s jaw drops, her cheeks flooding with colour.

“Oh, that’s perfect, I totally see that,” Darcy gushes. “How long has that been going on?”

“Nothing is going on,” says Yelena defensively, “she is — we are partners in class, and she shares her snacks with me sometimes. We went to the mall once or twice. That is all.”

When Darcy stares back skeptically she presses her lips together tightly, leaning slightly into your shoulder. You slide a hand into your best friend’s hair, scratching at her scalp to calm her down, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. This isn’t the giddy behaviour of someone with a crush, you realise — this is genuine discomfort.

“Why are you just projecting onto us that you can’t find anyone to go to the party with, anyway,” you snort to Darcy, signing out the basics of that sentence with your one free hand (Makkari subtly nods to let you know she understood). Wanda snickers at that without even looking up from her book this time.

“Okay, ouch, not true,” Darcy narrows her eyes at you, “Thor Odinson asked me to save him a dance. Is that not the behaviour of someone who’s showing interest in me?”

Makkari snaps back with quick retort that you don’t catch, and Darcy gasps in faux insult, the two of them beginning a quick and fiery exchange. You look down at Yelena to see her already looking up at you, the corners of her eyes crinkled in silent gratitude. You wrinkle your nose at her, and brush the bangs out of her eyes before returning to your food. She stays nestled against your shoulder for the rest of lunch — the rest of which proceeds as normal.

Natasha has agreed to drive the both of you to the party, as naturally she will also be in attendance.

“On one condition,” she warns firmly, as you all sit down at the dinner table. “Neither of you get blackout drunk, okay? I won’t have too much since I’ve gotta drive you both back, but if either of you cannot support your own body weight I will literally leave you there. You can fend for yourselves.”

“Always so serious, Natasha,” Alexi chuckles as he folds rags covered in very pungent motor oil. “Loosen up, да? If the twins want to drink they can drink. Lord knows I did at their age.”

“Not at the dinner table, Alexi,” Melina scolds, slapping at his shoulder as she passes him on her way to the stove. “This is good wood, oil will ruin the varnish.”

“Also it smells like shit,” Yelena adds helpfully, promptly ducking to avoid the massive hand that attempts to cuff her reprimandingly round the back of the head. “What is it from? Don’t tell me you are working on that beast in the garage again.”

“The one and only,” Alexi says with glee, rubbing his hands together at everyone’s collective groans. “What is this about, ah? She will be beautiful once I have fixed her up. You will all love her, I know. I call her… Melina.” He says it in a hushed voice, full of wonder, which is promptly quashed when the real Melina just snorts in amusement.

“Very creative,” she quips dryly as she sets down a crockpot in the middle of the table.

“Oh, you laugh now,” Alexi grumbles, “but when we are in backseat you are never complaining.”

Melina laughs wholeheartedly at that, while you, Yelena and Natasha let out similarly horrified noises.

“I can’t eat,” Natasha announces, pushing her plate away dramatically, and you quickly follow suit.

By the time Natasha pulls up into Tony’s stadium-sized driveway, the sun is already dying in the sky, taking its last fiery breaths that paint the world a shadowy pink before dwindling below the horizon into nothingness.

“Remember what I said —” Nat starts.

“About drinking, yes, I remember,” Yelena finishes for her impatiently. “No throwing up on myself, promise. Can we go in now?”

“Well fuck you too,” Natasha retorts. “Be careful of drink spiking, don’t just take a drink that’s handed to you. There’ll be a lot of people here, Stark knows some… unsavoury individuals so just stick to people we know. And whenever you’re feeling like heading home, text me, or come find me, kay?”

“Okay,” says Yelena long-sufferingly, which earns her a twisted arm in response.

You’ve never actually been inside of the Stark household before — well, maybe household isn’t accurate, it’s a multi-million dollar property and easily the biggest building you’ve ever set foot in. Yelena looks around at the high ceilings and chandeliers with a similar element of awe, while Natasha gazes around bemusedly, what with this place being a regular sight for her.

“Romanoff and co, you made it,” Tony Stark himself cheers, swooping into the lobby with a box full of beers. “Drink, m’lady?”

“Driving,” Natasha grimaces.

“Ooh, unlucky. Probably for the best, though, I heard Barton conspiring to put something gross in the punch. He thinks he’s slick… I swear, that guy thinks everyone else is as deaf as he is.”

Nat snorts in amusement, sending you and Yelena one last glance before heading off to the kitchen with Stark. Yelena links her arm through yours, and the two of you head off into the thick mass of people, on a quest to find your friends.

This task proves difficult. Half an hour in, you’ve wandered quite a few of the Stark Mansion’s impressive number of halls without a single member joining your party. You return to the main area, choosing to settle in a corner near a table covered by very expensive-looking vases, and Yelena disappears briefly to fetch you both some drinks. You don’t notice much what it is, you’re just grateful for the cool relief it provides.

“Oh look, it’s Kate Bishop,” you say absently as you spot her over at the chocolate fountain (now is not the time to question the presence of a chocolate fountain, you decide) next to America Chavez. You made the remark without thinking, knowing that Kate is one of the people Yelena likes to see (“she is like a puppy,” Lena said to you once, “all squishy and bouncy and eager to please. Fun to spend time with”), but you remember what happened at lunch today and tense, looking at her to gauge a reaction. “Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Yelena plays it off well, sipping from her drink to avoid replying any further.

Your hand hovers tentatively for a moment before resting on her shoulder. “Y… you know that if, well, anything, you can tell me, right? I won’t… make fun of you. I like talking with you. Just, uh. Just so you know.”

She looks down at you for a moment, gaze darting from the hand on her shoulder to your eyes. You stare back to her with uncertainty, but a desperation to reassert that you care. She observes you for a moment, long and hard, and you daren’t look away.

Then she gives you a short, sharp, singular nod, and downs the rest of her drink in one.

“I know,” she says curtly. “I will go say hi to her. Come find me later.”

She pats your head with a gentleness that one wouldn’t expect from a tall threatening Russian, to let you know she’s not mad, and you watch her go serenely. You’ve known Yelena for all of your life. She doesn’t say things, she does things. Talking has never been her strong suit, especially in a language that isn’t her mothertongue; you have always been careful to respect her boundaries. You’d never expect her to do something she wasn’t ready for, you’ve always been patient with her and you’ll give her as much time as she needs on this one. You know with a calming certainty that she will talk to you when she’s ready, about whatever she’s feeling about Kate Bishop that’s confusing and hurting her. The fact that you can know your best friend, your twin flame with such assuredness (and she know your own behaviours in turn) is something that never fails to make you feel as though you’ve found your place in the world. You don’t know what you’d do without her. She is your family (and the thought of you betraying her so in sneaking around with your sister is like a knife through your guts, so you’ve very quickly learnt to simply not think about it at all).

But this feeling of otherworldly serenity is shattered as soon as you turn to leave and explore. Your eyes land upon the sight of Natasha dancing with Bucky Barnes, and it makes your blood run cold.

To be fair, it’s not as though they’re the only two on the dancefloor; most of their friendship group are stood in fairly close proximity to one another. But these two have clearly paired up for this song (Nelly Furtado, you think, but you don’t care enough to figure it out), with their arms around one another, and Barnes whirling her around when the beat drops. The way she’s smiling at him, as though she wants do the things with him that she does with you, makes you feel so ill that you have to look away for genuine fear of being sick right here on this dancefloor.

Feeling like this is an overreaction, you rationalise desperately to yourself, even as all the hairs on your arms begin to stand on end. The two of you aren’t exclusive — that much has been made clear by her insistence around avoiding the topic. And it’s just a dance, Bucky is a good friend of Natasha’s, it probably doesn’t even mean anything.

So why do you feel so gross?

You need a drink, you decide, stumbling off in the direction of the kitchen to overanalyse in peace.

You’re not sure how long has passed by the time Sam Wilson stumbles upon you, in a long dark narrow hall that weirdly reminds you of the Hogwarts bridge, one wall lined with gaping windows that look out on the rest of the house. You’re sat on the floor, wedged into a corner with your knees up to your chest and your back pressed against the wall, watching the party from a whole other dimension with a bottle beside you.

“Oh — hey, sorry, I was just on my way to the bathroom,” he laughs easily. “You gave me a fright there, all curled up in the dark like some horror movie shit.”

There’s a moment of silence, during which his eyes are presumably adjusting to the dark, before he speaks again. “You’re… Y/N, right? That kid Romanoff lives with?”

You press your lips together tightly at the mention of her name, but you nod. (Sam looks so funny where he’s stood in the distance, at the far end of this corridor, you think to yourself. Like a tiny matchstick guy you could put in a dollhouse.) Sam must see your response, because he continues, “thought so. Hey, what’re you doin up here all alone? Where’s Belova? You okay?”

You shrug. He dithers for a moment before slowly walking the hallway, approaching you as though you’re a wild animal that might scare at any moment. When you don’t, he slowly lowers himself onto the ground next to you.

“‘S loud down there,” he says after a moment. “Stark’s my bud and all, but his shit gets too much for me sometimes.”

You nod your agreement. You don’t know Sam well at all — you don’t recall ever speaking to him, he’s much more Natasha’s friend than your own — but there are definitely worse people who could choose to talk to you right now.

“That why you’re up there? All alone? Without your conjoined twin?” he adds, spirit light, a teasing smile on his face.

The corners of your lips twitch upward, and you speak at last, voice a little croaky from crying. “I guess. She went off with someone, I was trying to give them privacy.”

Sam hums, and nods in understanding. “Well if you’re not enjoying the party anymore we can get you home. I think Nat stayed sober tonight, or we can call you a taxi… put it on Stark’s card,” he adds mischievously, which earns a laugh from you.

“Yeah,” you rub at your eyes unceremoniously, “this party’s been a bust.”

“We’ll get you home, then,” he says gently. “Parties ain’t for everyone. Romanoff was looking for you, anyway.”

You freeze. “She was?”

“Yeah, think so. C’mon, let’s go.” He gets to his feet, offering you a hand, and very politely doesn’t comment when you have to lean on him a little on the journey back to the main hall.

“Alright. You sit tight, I’ll go find Romanoff.” He pats your shoulder before letting go of you, and wanders off.

You cast your vacant gaze around the party, simply looking rather than really seeing. With the state your brain is in it takes a few moments to process Yelena rushing across the dancefloor, head lowered and hair shrouding her face, with Kate hurrying after her, calling out. The haze that your somewhat intoxicated brain applies and the distance with which you’re watching from makes the scene look unreal, like something from a movie.

You bite the inside of your lip, hard, forcing yourself to pull it together, and discard the bottle you’re holding on a nearby table as you make your way over to Kate — who by this point has given up the fruitless chase and stands forlorn by the front door, staring out at Yelena’s quickly disappearing figure.

“Bishop,” you say, trying to keep your voice even, “what happened?”

She’s already nervous, you can tell, but when she sees you by her side her eyes go big as saucers. “Oh god. Hi. Hi, hi hi. Um, so, I don’t know.”

“I’m not gonna be mad at you, Bishop,” you say tiredly, “but I need to know what’s going on. She’s been acting weird all day, and when Makkari brought you up earlier I think she actually malfunctioned. What’s going on?”

Kate twitches instead of replying, and you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose between your forefingers. “Please just spit it out.”

“I don’t know what happened,” Kate maintains squeakily. “I thought we were good and we went to like some nice roses or something, I don’t know this place is massive it was like a garden I think, we sat on a bench and we were talking just normal talking it wasn’t even anything weird like we’ve talked about much weirder stuff! This was pretty tame! And she just like shut off and went all blank and marched out and I don’t know what I did,” she finishes lamely, with the trademark Bishop puppy dog eyes that Yelena has complained about to you.

You nod. “Okay. Uh, I’ll talk to her, you just… uh, get home safe. And text her, but don’t suffocate her, you know?”

Kate nods vigorously, stammering more than you’ve ever heard someone stammer before. “Y— uhh, yep, alright, cool, perfect, got it. No… no suffocation. Nope. That would not be good. Uh, is double texting suffocation?”

“Double texting is like the maximum you can go before it’s asphyxiation,” you advise sagely, and she nods like one of those little dolls with a spring for a neck that you see in trucker lorries before scurrying off (she really is like a puppy, you muse to yourself as you recall Yelena’s words; an oversized, long-legged puppy).

“Alright,” you mutter, “where have you gone, Belova?”

When you turn around, it’s not Yelena that you’re faced with, but her sister. Well, it’s a start, at least.

“Nat,” you say, and your voice sounds like it’s very very far away and it doesn’t belong to you, “come on, we have to find… Yelena.” You reach out to grab her hand but she shakes away your touch, and your cheeks burn at the rejection and the realisation you’re in public. Of course she doesn’t want to touch you in public, you think to yourself, and the doubts from the hallway before Sam came and found you start creeping back and your head starts to hurt again.

“What’s going on?” Natasha asks, daring to place a hand on your shoulder as she leads you through the front door and down the driveway. “What’s wrong with Yelena?” She pauses, taking in your appearance for the first time all night under the light of the street lamps that line the long, linear driveway. “What’s wrong with you?”

You open and close your mouth a few times without making any sound, like a fish, searching for the words. Suddenly it feels as though the whole night is catching up on you, and you can’t really explain it but you’re not really you or in your body — it’s like you’re watching from someone else’s perspective, or reading about this experience instead of living it, and all of the thoughts seep out of your head. (Shit, maybe it’s a good thing you don’t drink that often.) Nat’s face softens slightly, and in the solitude of the front yard she’s gracious enough to loop an arm round your waist and guide you gently to somewhere you can rest for a minute; the stone pillars, to the corner of the front of the house.

“Deep breaths,” she urges you quietly, pinning you between a pillar and her body, both of your hands in hers and her face nestled in close against your shoulder, lips by your ear, safely hidden from prying eyes by the shadows of the pillars. You comply, in, out, in, out, until your body is yours again, and you can feel her breath on your cheek.

“I told you not to get shitfaced,” she tells you as she pulls away again enough to be able to look at you, but there’s no real anger in her voice, and her eyes are so soft and warm as they look down at you. Her hands are still in yours, grounding you, and you grip onto them tightly. “What’s going on? Where’s Thing 2?”

“Kate Bishop upset her,” you relay blearily. “She ran off, I was gonna find her, n go home.”

“And what happened to you?” she adds more gently, cupping your face in her hands.

“You,” you mumble, and then realise what you’ve said. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, and you quickly try to rectify, “no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean. I just meant… I’m sorry, sorry, I can’t do words, I didn’t mean that. Wanna go home.”

“It’s okay,” she says quietly, “but can we talk about it? What did I do to upset you tonight, huh? To make you get like this?” She moves one hand to prod gently at your chest to emphasise her last two words.

You shake your head, normally at first, but the movement becomes more exaggerated as though you’re trying to clear your head of this fog. “N — nothing. God. Sorry. It was — me. Just, I just mis… misread the situation. Thought I was special. Was being dumb. Sorry. Can we,” you tug on her arm, “can we go home, I can’t think, my head really hurts.”

Her eyebrows are furrowed deeper than ever, glossy lips pushed together, but she nods — and then her head turns sharply in the direction of the bushes. You turn too, instinctively, and see Yelena walking toward you. Her eyes lock onto yours for a moment, and you are filled with the most paralysing, existential dread. This is it, you think to yourself, this is how my life ends. But Yelena makes no move towards you, and you realise quickly that even though she can see someone’s hands on you, she can’t see who they belong to. Natasha has picked a place to stop so perfect that Yelena can’t see her from where she’s stood, and this realisation has you weak-kneed with relief.

The two of you make eye contact for a moment, and despite your deep longing to have Natasha publicly be yours you’re overwhelmingly grateful in this moment that your tracks are somewhat covered . Lena’s gaze flits from yours to your hands, occupied by a shadow-faced stranger; her lips press into a thin line and her eyes fill with tears as she turns and trudges away again, disappearing into the night.

By the time you get home, she’s already there, in your bedroom getting ready for bed. Her tearstained face takes one look at yours, which is in a similar state after your car ride home with Natasha. While Yelena doesn’t say a word to you or Nat, she kisses your forehead before you both climb into your beds on the opposite sides of the room, so you know she’s not really mad. She just needs time, you know, and you’re very careful over the days that follow to give it to her.

Melina and Alexi are all too familiar with Yelena’s silent episodes. They come on whenever she’s processing something, and the only thing you can do to support her is wait patiently until she’s able to talk. Even though you’ve long since grown up, and nowadays can see the grey in a situation that was black and white when you were young, you still think of things in the very simple terms they had been presented to you in as a six-year-old.

“Why is Yelena quiet?” you asked Alexi. “I didn’t do anything.”

The giant man had sunk to his knees, wincing at the pop and crackle of his joints, to be on the same level as you, and took both of your tiny hands in one much larger one. “Uhh… ah. So you have to be very grown up, ah? да, смутьян? Yelena did not have same start in life as you, eh. Me and Melina are her parents, you know, we live here in Ohio with you,” he tickled your belly to punctuate your involvement in his story and you squirmed happily, “but we are not… giving birth to her, ah? Before we bring Yelena to Ohio, in fact before she is brought to orphanage, she is having another mom and dad. Who giving birth to her,” he explained to you in his usual broken English; he spoke with a level of thought and caution that you’d never seen before on the usually crude man.

“In Russia?” you queried.

“In Russia,” he confirmed. “The motherland, ey? So the mom and dad who giving birth to her, they aren’t very nice, ah. So Yelena’s… formative years, when she was baby and learned all the emotion things like cry when sad, smile when happy, she learned different, да? To protect herself. If cry, her old mom and dad get angry because of noise, so when sad she go all quiet and… spaced out and faraway instead. And even though now she is in place where we won’t be angry if she cry, it is still how she has learned things. So if something bad happen, she shut down. It is her way to cope. And you are probably thinking that it is strange, but we have to be gentle to her, okay?” he said encouragingly to you, and you nodded eagerly to this man who even then was like a father to you. “We are gentle, and show her we aren’t get angry when she sad, and when she ready she open up. Make clear we love her. It is big important task. We treat her with kindness when she go quiet, kay? Can you do that, trouble, eh?”

And of course you nodded seriously, because Yelena was your best friend, and you already knew you would do almost anything for her.

You understand a lot more, now, but you still think of it like that. It’s the way her brain works, it’s a result of her start in life — she can’t help it, it’s not her fault, and it would be beyond unfair to make her suffer for something so out of her control. So you barely leave her side in the days that follow, by her side in every mundane task she half-heartedly attempts, even clambering into her bed from your own on the dark drizzly morning where she can’t even peel herself from her own bed. You and Natasha haven’t spoken since that hellish car ride home, but for probably the first time ever the redhead is barely on your mind; you’d do anything for her, it’s true, but you’d do anything for her sister too. You knew it when you were six years old and seeing one of Lena’s silent episodes for the first time, and you know it more than ever now. This takes precedence.

Yelena doesn’t utter a word for six days, only nodding thanks and smiling at you with the corners of her eyes. On the morning of the seventh day, you wake up to her sat on your chest.

“Oh,” you wheeze, “good morning.”

And she smiles at you in reply, wheezy laughter bubbling in her chest at the way your limbs are splayed out awkwardly beneath her weight, and you can tell that she’s back.

She doesn’t tell you what had her spiralling until the evening, but you spend the whole day bouncing around the house with her as though you’re little kids again, and it fills you so wholeheartedly with joy to have your best friend back. She truly is like an extension of you, you don’t feel right when she’s not around, and you don’t feel right when she doesn’t, either. But she’s back, she’s talking and laughing again and it’s contagious. Whatever souls are made of, yours and hers are the same.

Right now the house is quiet, the lights are out and the two of you are sat on the windowsill, looking out at the stars.

“That one’s winking at us,” you whisper with a grin, pointing to a flickering star. You feel Yelena’s eyes on you, and turn to see her smiling softly at you, her eyes crinkling at the corners the way they only ever do when she’s trying to tell you that she’s grateful for something.

“There is a thing that is broken inside of me,” she tells you matter-of-factly. You blink, surprised, but nod encouragingly for her to keep going. “I don’t think I am like you or Darcy or Kate. And that doesn’t feel fair. I thought, it is always me, I just want to be normal. So I say okay, I will be normal, I ignore it and pretend it wasn’t there, and it only makes things go all funny and the world doesn’t make sense. It’s like one of those…”

She pauses for a moment to think. “Ah черт возьми, cannot find the words, you know those… visual — eye tricks? Illusions? At the museums, that are like art, and hurt your brain?”

“Optical illusions?” you offer.

“Yes. When I am pretending it is like looking at the world through optical illusions. Nothing is making sense, and it makes me so sick and sad and lonely. So I was pretending at the party, but it was like everything just…” She makes a boom noise with her mouth, and mimes an explosion. “I could not handle, no more, I thought why me, why don’t I have what everyone else has, what did I do wrong? And then I saw you, making kissy face with some girl —” your heart leaps, but she still doesn’t seem to know who it was, thank god “— and I just,” there are tears in her eyes that glisten with frustration, “and I just… wished it could be me. Not that I want to kiss you,” she adds hastily, “but I want to want it. It would make things so much easier.”

“You… wish you wanted to kiss me?” you ask carefully.

She nods furiously. “Maybe not you, we are Близнецы… that would be weird, probably. Just to… want any kissing. But I don’t. I don’t want to kiss you, or Kate Bishop, or anyone. There is none of that for me, it’s just not…” She gestures vaguely in the air, as though she is searching for something she does not have, and then shrugs. “Я потерян, I don’t know. Y/N, I am aroace,” she tells you proudly. “I did the research, it is me, it fits me perfectly. But I don’t… want to be. Not when everyone else, even you, is kissing people. You are my person, I don’t want to kiss you, but I want to… always be with you. But then I realised,” she gulps, and she’s fighting back tears again, “that’s not… how things work. And you are kissing other people — I don’t care who,” she adds as you open your mouth to interject, “I know it is not my business and you will say when you are ready, but we are growing up and I must do grownup things now and it’s scary. And Darcy is always asking me who I am crushing on and… it is hurting, a lot, to realise no one. Ever. And I’m okay with it, I don’t want it because I want it, I want it because if I don’t want it I’m wrong and it means there is something… wrong inside of me. And my brain is broken enough as it is,” she covers her face with her hands, “and I think I just lost the… hold on everything when the Kate Bishop kissed me.”

“She kissed you?”

“Mhm. And it was like the world ended, I could not handle it. Because I thought I was so good at pretending that I have this thing when I don’t, but I couldn’t tell that… she felt like that, when a normal person would have been able to tell. Darcy could. Makkari could. And I am just done pretending, I think, and I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Her hands still cover her face, but after a few moments you catch her peering through the gaps between her fingers, anxiously trying to gauge a reaction from you. For a split second you see a scared child watching apprehensively through the slats of a staircase bannister, younger than you ever knew her, fearing someone who in this moment she does not know. When the fear is this primal, it is timeless, and all-consuming. You see it in the way she closes the gaps between her fingers again, closes the blinds on the outside world, decides she’d rather not know what it is that you make of this for fear of it being negative; in the way that it has always ended for her, in the rare moment she’s been so fragile around someone. And you feel it, in this moment. It’s so heavy it’s almost tangible, and you fear if you speak or move or think wrong it might shatter irreparably.

So you are absolutely silent for a few moments. You don’t move, don’t blink — you’re not sure that you breathe, actually, while you process what’s just been said.

“I’ll talk to Darcy,” you say eventually. “I’ll tell her to stop. I’m sorry I didn’t see that it was upsetting you sooner.”

Yelena’s hands drop away in surprise, and she looks at you, her cheekbones shimmering a little in the starlight. “You — you aren’t? You don’t —?”

“No,” you say simply, but gently, a hand moving to rest on top of hers, which fiddles with the loose threads on her pyjama bottoms. Its movements cease instantly. “Why would I be? You are okay with me liking girls. Why wouldn’t I be okay with you not liking anyone?”

She crumples, then, in relief; as though it’s so all-consuming that she can’t support herself any longer, and you’re there to catch her. She cries even as you smooth her hair and pull her over to her bed.

“Я тебя люблю,” she chokes out quietly as you cocoon her in the mass of blankets she insists on keeping in her bed.

“Я тоже тебя люблю,” you whisper, “так много.”

A few moments of quiet, where your fingers continue to comb through her hair, and her eyelids begin to flutter.

“I don’t know what to do about Kate Bishop, though,” she admits sleepily. “Because I don’t… ah… not like her. I just don’t think I can be what she wants me to be, but I don’t want to… lose her.”

“It’s all about how you feel,” you remind her gently. “Kate’s cool. She will always respect you, remember. She’s like a puppy, you’re not getting rid of her if you try,” and Yelena giggles a little at that. “We’ll figure it out, Lena. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

She nods, and mumbled something about thinking, and slips into the first peaceful sleep she has had in seven days.

Your mind moves to Natasha, now that you know with certainty that Lena will be okay. You kiss her forehead before quietly leaving the room and heading downstairs, where you know Natasha will still be awake, watching old black and white reruns.

As you reach the bottom of the stairs, Liho pads up to you, meowing and tugging insistently at the bottom of your pants.

“Hiya, buddy,” you murmur, relenting at once and giving him what he wants. You scoop him up just the way he likes and he purrs happily, writhing around in your arms, rubbing his face against yours before eventually settling with his chin on your shoulder and you cradling him to your chest like a baby.

The two of you walk slowly into the living room, where just as you predicted, Natasha is curled up on the sofa beneath a blanket in front of the TV. What surprises you though is what she’s watching.

“I thought you hated this show,” you comment quietly, a smile fighting its way onto your face as you watch Kourtney and Kim fighting. You move to sit down in the armchair furthest from her but she makes a noise of displeasure and pats the spot next to her insistently, even lifting up the blanket for you and Liho to slide underneath.

Well, who are you to deny her?

“I wanted to see why you guys like it so much,” she replies after a few moments, once you’re half on top of her, head on her chest with Liho tucked into the warm gap between you, and you can feel every word that she says. “I’m not sure I really get it, to be honest.” Her fingers gently trace the outline of your face, your jawline, your cheekbones and you melt into the touch. “Are you still upset about the party?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” you murmur.

“But I do, you said that I upset you. You’ve been avoiding me all week, Y/N/N, I don’t even know what I did.”

“You didn’t upset me, I was just being dumb.”

“About?”

You groan, and press your face into her chest, sensing she’s not going to let this go. “Just seeing you, like, dance and flirt with other people. I just wish I could do that sometimes. Please, I don’t wanna think about this anymore,” it comes out as something of a whine, and you can feel the way she’s tensing against you.

“Y/N,” she sighs heavily, “you know we have to cover our tracks, if we both keep acting weird when someone flirts with me then people are gonna know that we’re together.”

“But we’re not even together, really,” you mumble. “Please, let’s forget about it. Please.”

“You can’t keep saying stuff like that and then tell me to forget about it,” she scolds half-seriously, and you break the eye contact for a moment to bury your face in her chest again so she won’t see your smile. “You know we can’t tell people about us. It would… it would be too much to handle.”

Whether that’s for you or for her she doesn’t explain, but she doesn’t have to. She might be protecting you, but she’s also protecting herself. She couldn’t handle it, if she held your hand in public. Stolen moments like this are all you’ll ever get, you think to yourself miserably, as she ever so gently lowers her lips to your neck. But even with this knowledge you would still let her do anything to you, in whatever way she wants, because her wanting to touch you in any capacity is going to have to be enough — even if she harbours you like this, her little late night secret, it’s surely better than the days that she barely looked at you at all. You might not ever have her in the way that you want to; every moment like this is precious beyond belief.

So you give yourself over to her completely, and pray that someday this lingering feeling of dirtiness will fade away, and only the gratitude remain.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #black widow #high school au #marvel high school au

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michaelsfavgirl · 5 months

Text

needy

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: After a few days of being at Michael's family home for the holidays you become extremely needy for him and beg him to touch you while everyone is at home.

Tags: smut, teasing, p in v, creampie, dom!michael, sub!reader, tummy bulge, spit, semi-exhibitionism.

Word Count: 2.4k

Author’s Note: hi! This is my first time posting a one-shot on here. I hope you like it <3 Constructive criticism and suggestions about future fics are welcome in my inbox. I'd appreciate it if you could reblog and interact to give me more motivation to write :) thank you.

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

“God, you’re so needy,” he whispers while holding you close to his chest. You huff and knit your eyebrows together. “Am not,” you say. He raises his eyebrows in mock disbelief.

“Look at you,” he kneads your soft waist and looks at you with an amused expression. You are needy, there's no denying it. “I've spoiled you too much.” He cups your face with his large, exceptionally skilled hands that have made you feel like you have been to heaven and back.

You blush from the intimate proximity, how you can feel his minty breath fawning over your face while the chatter from downstairs can still be heard. You frown at his statement, clearly not liking the fact that you're not getting your way like you usually do.

“Normalized stuffing your cunt with my cock on a daily, and now look at the consequences-” he glides his hand down to your ass but doesn't give it the attention you crave. He traces your bottom lip with his thumb, instinctively you part your lips and try to gently graze it with your tongue before he takes it away. “-can’t even go a few days without having your greedy pussy touched.”

You whimper at his words, desperately pawing at his chest, pleading him to make the achy feeling between your legs go away. “Michael, please…”

Suddenly loud laughter emerges from the outside, bringing you out of your fuzzy state. “You hear that, baby?” you nod and swallow, looking up at him with glossy eyes. “Do you want everyone to find out how naughty you really are? I mean, what would my family think?” he cocks his head to the side and smirks.

You whine and squeeze your thighs together, trying to soothe your pulsing clit. “I'll be quiet, I promise.” Michael chuckles lowly. “Yeah? Will you, sweet girl?” he caresses your bottom lip with his thumb. You nod enthusiastically. Your neediness pouring out of you.

After softly tracing your face with his fingers he gently pulls you closer to him and his plump lips. He connects your mouths in a kiss that should be rushed and heated considering the circumstances but it’s not. It’s sweet. Slow. Passionate. Full of adoration.

Michael feels your body melt into his which makes him smile into the kiss. He can’t help but feel his ego inflate at the fact that he has such an effect on you. His precious, pretty girl can only have her desires satisfied by him. Nobody else knows your body like he does.

As the kiss continues to be steady you place your hand on the back of his neck to urge him to pick up the pace, not wanting to drag this out and have someone barge in from suspicions. He pulls away in response, leaving your lips slightly swollen and shining with his saliva.

“You know better than to rush me baby” he tightens his grip on your waist as a warning and teasingly makes his way from your jawline to your neck. He leaves short open mouthed kisses on your heated skin, taking his sweet time as if his entire family isn’t downstairs wondering what’s taking y’all so long.

It’s not really about being rushed, it’s about quickies. He absolutely hates no, loathes them. Can’t wrap his mind around the concept, why would anyone want to hastily fuck like bunnies without much foreplay just because the people are desperate? Have some self control! It makes him feel as if you’re a toy to him which makes his skin crawl. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him and he’ll make sure to let you know in every way, especially when it comes to your bedroom.

When it comes to sex Michael likes to take his time. From foreplay to aftercare he’s the most attentive lover. Likes to thoroughly prep you with his fingers and mouth before stretching your slick pussy with his fat, lengthy cock. And he never dares to cum before you, you always come first, literally and figuratively. Multiple times a night too to make sure you’re completely sated and blissed out in the end. And then he cleans you up and cuddles you to his chest until sleep takes over you.

So you can imagine how quickies are torturous for him. But this time he understands. It’s been a few days since you two arrived at hayvenhurst, his family home, for the holidays. He hasn’t touched you intimately once during the stay which has been driving you mad, Spoiled from having your cunt played with almost every day. Seeing you trembling in his arms reminds him of when he made love to you for the first time.

“Shh, Shh, I’ll take care of you sweet girl I promise” he responds to your meek whimpers.

He pushes you closer to the bed making your knees give out and sit on the edge of it. He kneels in front of you, god he looks so good on his knees, breathing heavily, he looks like he’s about to devour you.

He parts your legs with his warm hands and licks his lips like a hungry predator. You lean back slightly, balancing your weight on your trembling palms. “You’re lucky you’re cute” he says as a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

Michael flips up your skirt, exposing your panties which have a noticeable wet spot around your hole that’s begging to be stuffed full. Clenching around nothing you feel his hands sliding up and down your inner thighs. Soft hands squeezing closer and closer to where you need him most as his mouth litters short pecks on your skin.

As he gets dangerously close to your heat you remember that the door isn’t locked. Panic rises inside you, you whine and try to close your legs but Michaels much stronger hands keep them pried open.

“…the door” you whisper worriedly.

“What about it?” Unbothered, he goes back to kissing your soft thighs.

Bewildered, you try to shove his head away with your hand. Wrong move. He glares at you, giving you a warning look.

“It’s- it’s not locked” you manage to blurt out, his teasing caresses and wet kisses making it hard for you to properly articulate your thoughts.

He huffs and rolls his eyes slightly, he stands up and goes to the door. You breath out thankfully, a bit too soon though. Michael turns the handle and opens the door a little, not too much but enough for somebody walking by to have a peak. He comes back with a nonchalant attitude and stands between your legs again.

This man will be the death of you.

“Is something wrong?” He tries to act casual as if what he just did isn’t insane, but you can see a glimmer of mischief in his gorgeous brown eyes. Now he’s lucky that he’s cute.

“If you want it so bad then you’ll be able to be quiet, right?”

“Or is that too much for you?” he leans back slightly.

As he's about to take a step back you reach out and grasp onto his forearms. “Michael…” breathless and needy, you beg. You beg him to just quickly take his cock out and fuck you. You’d do anything at this point. The tingling feeling in your tummy drives you mad.

Speechless for a second, Michael recovers fast, as he had never seen you so desperate before. Something about that definitely turned him on but he doesn't have time to ponder about that right now. He needs to take care of his girl.

He groans under his breath, knowing he doesn't have time to eat you out.

Ugh, what a bummer.

He grabs your hips and pushes you back onto the bed with your legs still dangling off it. He hikes up your shirt enough so that your bra is showing and pulls your panties to the side. You whimper as the cold air hits your bare skin. Jesus you’re drenched, your folds glossy and puffy from being neglected.

Michael’s hands itch to touch you, to stretch you on his long fingers before putting his cock in you but he can’t, can’t risk others getting suspicious of you two, I mean the door is ajar anyway, can’t waste anymore time.

Swiftly he unzips his trousers and pulls it, along with his boxers, down. His thick cock springs out, pre-cum leaking out his tip. Your mouth waters as you stare at it, dick fully hard and pulsing. He wraps his hand around the base and pulls back his foreskin lightly, making more of his tasty cum to drip out and land right onto your clit. You shiver at the contact as you feel it dripping down your slit.

He wraps your legs around his hips and moves closer to you. He tugs on his cock a few times before pressing his hot tip against your sensitive nub. You don’t even have time to react as he starts to rub your clit in little circles. Your head falls back onto the sheets as you finally feel a tiny bit of relief. You buck your hips, wanting more but Michael shushes you, telling you to be grateful for what he’s giving you.

He slides his cockhead down to your needy hole and tries to slip his fat cock inside you. He pushes slightly a few times but only manages to get half of his tip in before you start whimpering from the stretch. Amused by your cries he urges his fingers against your lips.

“Spit” he commands. You widen your eyes slightly. You shakily part your lips and spit onto his fingers. “More, again” his voice sounds more hoarse, you can tell he's just as aroused as you no matter how much he tries to deny it. you do as he says and feel your cheeks heating up.

Satisfied he brings his hand down to his shaft and smears it all around his dick. You squeeze your walls at the delicious sight, his cock now covered and shining in your spit.

He grabs onto your hip with his left hand and slowly pushes his cock past your slippery folds. You moan quietly, trying not to make too much noise. Desperately clawing at the sheets you gasp as you feel your gummy walls stretch around his fat, lengthy cock. He’s not even fully inside you and you're panting like a dog in heat.

“See? See how prep is so important now?” He taunts you with his righteous, but extremely attractive, attitude. You nod and bite your lip to suppress your noises.

He grunts as he watches his cock disappear into your slick pussy, your walls hug him so good he might cum right there, but he stops himself. Faltering his movements he stops briefly to let you catch your breath. Yeah, it’s obviously for you, he doesn't need a minute to collect himself, definitely not. Liar.

After a minute he pulls out slightly and thrusts back in again, not fully though. He starts to pump his cock inside you at a steady pace, making you feel his prominent veins rubbing against your slick walls.

“No, want all of you” you whine.

“You can’t take more right now, don't start with me” he says sternly and continues to plunge himself into your tight cunt.

“I can-” he brings you out of your cock drunk haze by cupping your jaw with his fingers, not aggressively though, you’re still his princess. “don’t wanna hurt you, baby” before you can protest he makes you look down and see the outline of his big cock on your belly bulging slightly. You mewl defeatedly and lay your head back onto the bed obediently.

“Good girl”

He resumes his rhythmic thrusts and low grunts and even whimpers. God he looks so good like this, on top, his eyebrows knitted from concentration, hands groping your soft inner thighs. Beautiful.

As he picks up his pace ever so slightly he brings his thumb to toy with your pulsing clit. You bring your palm to your mouth to stop yourself from moaning. You can feel more of his clear pre-cum oozing out his tip, making everything more slippery. As a consequence of his fastened pace the sounds of your squelching pussy and his heavy balls slapping against your ass intensifies. You’re close, so, so close.

“Mike” you whimper.

“I know, baby, i know” he looks down at your blissed out face and coos at you.

Michael looks at where you’re connected and groans, there's a white ring of your cum forming around his dark cock, that along with him being able to see his cock bulging in your tummy sends his senses into overdrive. His thumb keeps rubbing your button in tight circles as he feels himself get closer to the edge of his release. Feeling overwhelmed by the pleasure that only he can give you, you arch your back, anticipating your sweet release.

“Fuck- come for me baby, cream on my cock” he says and throws his head back.

You feel a familiar sensation in your lower tummy whilst he feels his balls tightening, ready to fill you up with his sticky seed. Frantically you reach out your hand and intertwine it with his much larger one, wanting to feel as close to his as you can.

As your pent up desires reach a tipping point you feel your legs tremble as you throw your head back and let the powerful orgasm wash over you, mouth open, whining from how good it feels. As Michael sees your face he feels the same feeling arise within him, squeezing his eyes shut he grunts as he pumps you full of his cum, rope after rope of his creamy seed filling you up to the brim, just how you like it. When he feels his cum trying to escape your little hole he pushes in slightly, to make sure that none of it goes to waste, making you whimper from the unexpected stretch.

“Still needy?” Breathless, he asks with a smile plastered on his face. You giggle and shake your head as you admire how his curls frame his face so nicely.

Unfortunately, You don’t get the chance to fully calm down from your high before you hear a familiar voice coming from behind him.

“-Michael?”

shit.

#kate's writing #michael jackson #michael jackson x reader #michael jackson x fem!reader #smut #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #michael jackson imagine

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cerisefait · 6 months

Text

The Beach

Inspired by The Neighbourhood's song.

[1,2k words]

a/n: I've been feeling sad lately and felt like I needed a hug so here we are. If you've been feeling the same, I hope you can find solace in my words ♡ (I didn't include what the reader was failing at in order for you to relate to it better, I hope you enjoy!)

summary: the reader feels like no matter how much she works to achieve her dream, it's never enough: she feels like a failure. so, she seeks comfort in Sanji's arms. use of nicknames and kisses.

Everything was going great. You thought you were at the top of your game, working hard to get what you wanted but… you failed. Instead of seeing the rise in your performance, you witnessed it hitting rock bottom.

Ever since you started this journey, you strived to become better. It was a rocky road with ups and downs but lately all you have ever been getting were failed results.

You knew you had the potential. Everyone on your crew knew it. Then why were you failing miserably? Just as you see that it gets better, the next it gets worse. You've been usually putting on a mask not to worry anyone but today, it hit you.

You don't remember feeling this helpless in a long time.

Knowing you could succeed but not being able to make it happen was making you question yourself and your worth. Other people seem to have it their way when they have half of your potential. So why can't you do it? You were trying day and night, giving it your best but it was never enough.

You were always confident about yourself when it came to it but now, you felt really powerless. You were the type to make everyone else around you feel safe and good about themselves but when it came to you, you felt like you had no one to rely on by your side.

You knew you had close friends who would listen to you and try to understand but you didn't help but feel like a burden whenever you shared your true feelings with someone. You were the friend who always helped people around her but never got the help she desperately needed.

***

Luffy, Nami, Zoro and Usopp were out, there was a festival in town; leaving you and Sanji as the only crew members on the ship. You were in your chambers when they left and Sanji was in the kitchen, as usual.

On his way out, Luffy told Sanji to cook a feast-like meal, not because there was a reason to celebrate; he just loved to have you all in a good mood and the way to Luffy's heart went through his stomach as all of you knew.

The rest of the crew was gone for almost two hours, making it easier for you to just sit with yourself and contemplate all that was happening around you. Why couldn't you succeed like you wanted just once? Was there something wrong with you?

Hours of sitting with the thoughts you usually avoid thinking and occasionally crying, you felt exhausted; your eyes were bloodshot and puffy from all the tears, the tip of your nose was slightly red due to all the tissues you've used.

You left your chambers in hopes of finding something to eat without letting anyone see you this way: You always liked to act tough when it came to your emotions. Plus if Sanji were to see you in this state, he would be so worried…

You thought he'd be done preparing the dinner by now but as soon as you entered the kitchen, you saw him: Washing a pan in the sink with the water running down the sink, a towel hanging on his right shoulder.

He seemed calm, humming a melody to keep himself entertained as he was rubbing the pan with a sponge while the dishwashing soap foams danced around on top of the pan, accompanying his brisk movements.

When he saw you, his calm demeanor changed fast. In a blink of an eye, his eyebrows became knitted and slightly tilted upwards, trying to understand what has happened to you.

Taking a quick look at his hands, he left the pan in the sink, dried his hands immediately using the towel on his shoulder before tossing it on top of the nearest countertop.

Seeing him like this made you feel guilty and you wrapped your arms around yourself, gently caressing the back of your left arm.

‘(Y/n), are you okay? What's wrong, are you hurt?’ He asked in a soft tone, looking at your body and face to see any type of scar as he came closer to you.

‘I'm fine Sanji.’

‘Don't lie to me. Your eyes… Have you been crying?’

‘I told you I'm fine!’ You exclaimed, tears welling up in your eyes.

‘Don’t shut me out like that princess, tell me what’s wrong.’ He whispered as he gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and caressed your right cheek which was stained with salty tears.

Shutting your eyes close, you leaned into his touch unconsciously; seeking the warmth it brought you. Being close to him always made you feel secure.

A few seconds later, you felt a wave of cold air on your cheek where Sanji’s hand was. It made you wince; struggling to open your eyes, you didn’t want to talk. Not yet.

Just then you heard him say,

‘Come here.’ He opened his arms on either side, welcoming you into a warm embrace.

Without wasting a second, you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your head into the blonde's shoulder. You felt so safe as he gently ran his fingers through your hair, letting your tears fall down your cheek and onto his blouse. When you pulled him closer he whispered

‘Shh it’s okay baby, I’m here.’

‘Am I not enough?’ you sobbed,

‘No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to succeed. I’m a failure…’’

He wrapped his arms around your waist to take a look at your pretty face. When you locked eyes, his heart shattered at the sight.

He quickly wiped away the tears and caressed your cheek once again, looking deeply into your eyes with a reassuring smile.

‘No, you’re not a failure. It’s okay to feel defeated sometimes but failure only happens when you give up.

‘But I feel so tired… It feels like there’s no point trying.’

He shakes his hand, pulls your head to his shoulder and holds you there tightly pressed against him.

‘Maybe you have to try another path to succeed… Or you just need someone to tell you everything is going to be alright ‘cuz it will be sweetheart, trust me.’ And he continued

‘You are so strong and intelligent. If there’s anyone who could do it, it’s you. So why waste your time thinking nonsense… I know you and your capabilites, so if you don’t believe in yourself then believe me when I say you will do it.’

‘What did I do to deserve you?’ You looked up at him with your glowy eyes and stained cheeks.

‘I was just asking myself the same thing…’ He confessed before placing a gentle, quick kiss on your lips before adding

‘Not everything in life is supposed to go perfectly, we all have our ups and downs. This moment isn’t going to last forever, just like none of the previous ones did. I don’t want to hear you call yourself a failure again. Understood?'

You nodded, sniffing your nose while looking up at him.

‘Good girl.’ He mumbled before connecting his lips to yours once again. This time it was more heated, passionate. After a few seconds you separated for air; your foreheads pressed against one another and your eyes were closed.

There was a sweet silence before he broke it off with an ‘I love you, (Y/n).’

‘I love you too Sanji, thank you for all of this.’

‘No need to mention, princess. Now let’s make you a hearty comforting hot soup…’

#sanji x you #sanji x reader #comfort fic #comforting #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #one piece imagine #sanji imagine #opla sanji imagine #one piece sanji #one piece live action #creative writing #reader insert

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crazylittlejester · 2 months

Note

Time for some happy/fluffy headcannons since I can :3

Sky sees all the Zeldas as his daughters since he and Sun created the royal lineage. No matter how distant, they are his and Sun's children no matter what. (Some of the Zeldas who didn't have good relationships with their dads *cough* Flora *cough* nearly sob in joy because of this). Also, the Zeldas get their prophetic dreams from him too.

Legend's nose does that cute twitching that rabbits do. It makes him so flustered whenever anybody points it out.

Four, if he were to ever met any of the Gerudo, would be highly respected by them despite his height. He is short, yes, but he is very strong, intelligent and can make his own weapons. He'd probably have to fight off suitors if he ever went to Wild's Gerudo Town, tbh.

Everybody from Ordon is blessed by Ordona, and they have square pupils like goats do because of this. Despite being Hylian, and not being born in Ordon like the others, Twilight was also blessed and later in life developed these same pupils. He loves them despite how creepy everybody else thinks they are.

Time actually gained a little weight after marrying Malon because he felt safe enough to do so. He always made himself stay at top shape in case he had to go on another quest, so when he didn't immediately get thrown into one he got a little meat on his bones. He didnt look like a skeleton anymore. Malon was happy he did, since he was always thin even as a child.

Warriors knits and sews and Proxy has a small hat he made with an itty-bitty pompom on top.

Wind is scared of lighting storms due to a bad sailing trip after his adventure, and Sky tries to comfort him despite also being terrified of lighting himself.

Wild's mother was a piece of Farore's spirit traveling Hyrule as a mortal, and fell deeply in love with his father. Both Wild and his sister are considered forest spirits, and his sister actually became a korok after her mortal body died. The first korok he ever finds is his sister :)

Hyrule really likes the non hostile Zora whenever they visit them, and he learned how to swim from them.

None of the Links can hold their alcohol. One drink and they are all tipsy beyond belief. Except Wind, he can take two drinks before he also is drunk off his rocker.

YAY FLUFFY HEADCANONS (god knows i need more of these after the obnoxiously sad headcanons i have)

- This is so cute actually, I can totally see Sky and Flora becoming close

- Legend 100% does that, I also headcanon he hops when he gets really excited

- OKAY THE ORDONA GOAT EYE THING IS ACTUALLY SO COOL??? THATS AN EPIC HEADCANON

- My favorite thing ever in fiction is when characters start to look physically happy and healthy as they recover from trauma, and I write a lot of this happening to Wars (because I gave him horrible food anxiety and write about how he’s been able to work over that and become a lot healthier and happier) and I can see this happening to Time too

- WARRIORS KNITS IS REAL. REAL AND TRUE. YOURE RIGHT AND YOU SHOULD SAY SO!! I can see him making sweaters for everyone

- Wind and Sky and Legend all being unnerved by storms 🤝

- I think it’d be hilarious if they couldn’t hold their alcohol and Wind could out drink them, but whenever I write these guys I always give them at least a couple instances where Twi gets a good few beers and Wars gets his wine. I don’t think Time would drink, not because he wants to be the responsible adult, but because he just doesn’t drink

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu warriors #lu time #lu twilight #lu wild #lu sky #lu wind #lu four #lu legend #lu hyrule #jes talks #jes ask

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lightwise · 7 months

Text

Hunter’s Lies and Leadership in Aftermath

(Plus some misc thoughts)

Decided to do a quick little rewatch of Aftermath yesterday morning, and noticed something I haven’t paid attention to before.

(First, I have to say that one of my favorite moments out of the entire series is the first exchange between Hunter and Crosshair when Cross is still in his right mind—“Crosshair, let’s get these tanks moving!” “Sir, yes sir.” Just brings a smile to my face at their lighthearted snarkiness every time. These are their real, unburdened personalities. Ones we haven’t gotten to see since.)

As for what I noticed, I realized how much Hunter lies throughout the episode, and easily. His wartime leadership skills are at their strongest here, the easy, confident, calling-the-shots tone that designates his position as squad leader. He knows his men, he knows what they’re capable of, and he knows what needs to be done in order to accomplish a goal. He’s tactical, perceptive, quick thinking and responsive to what is happening around him even as he is also internally processing things that don’t make sense to him. (This is in stark contrast to his reserve and indecisiveness in season 2, which I’ll save for another post).

However, as close knit as the group is, and as honest as we know the Batch is and that Hunter is not intentionally manipulative, he immediately, easily, and without hesitation lies multiple times. The first time is to protect Caleb as he leaps over the waterfall and Crosshair then comes up asking where he went.

“Where’s the Jedi?”

“I stunned him when he jumped. He didn’t make it.”

Hunter knows something is up with Crosshair, though he doesn’t know what. And he wants Caleb to be safe. But his instant response is a straight up lie and he doesn’t even waver in delivering it. He furthers the lie on their return home when Crosshair questions him about it. He knows Crosshair doesn’t believe him but he’s not ready to open that can of worms mid flight.

He lies again when they land back on Kamino and a shock trooper asks him if they have a problem with what’s going on. This time though he stutters and is much less convincing in his delivery, I think both because he’s becoming more and more confused at what is going on, and also because he’s now lying to authority and could actually face consequences if he doesn’t give the “right” answer. Regardless, it’s interesting that his nerves shine through here but not when he’s talking to his squad, who would know much more quickly his tells and attitudes than a random trooper would.

His next lie is to Tech during the briefing by Palpatine to all of the clone troopers. This is the first time for this show that we see how Tech pays attention to Hunter’s reactions, and when Hunter sees Omega for the first time, Tech asks him what he sees, and Hunter says “nothing” when he realizes that Omega has disappeared.

He also sort of half lies to Omega when they leave for Onderon, telling her that a mission is a mission and that it’s nothing to worry about. He’s churning inside though. He knows none of this make sense. But of course he’s not going to tell a kid that, he wants to comfort her and make her feel at ease.

All of this makes me wonder—is this something Hunter was used to doing? Is he so used to being the leader who holds everyone together, with no one for him to really turn to, that he’ll do whatever needs to be done to keep the peace or complete their mission objective, even if it means lying to his brothers in the moment? Or is this newer for him and he’s using it as a way to cope with the sudden shift in the situations they are dealing with?

And then Saw Gerrera says something interesting when they’re trying to apprehend him on Onderon. He says to Hunter as the leader of the group specifically:

“Take a look at the group of insurgents you were sent to destroy. Makes you wonder what else they’re lying about.”

Now, I’m not saying that Hunter took this to mean “oh man I gotta stop lying to my crew because that’s what the empire is doing to us and that’s no way to lead.” But, he doesn’t lie anymore through the rest of this episode, nor in the next one. I’d have to watch through the series again to remember if there are any other occasions of him directly lying to the Batch (vs to a stranger to keep them safe). There does seem to be a shift in his demeanor after this though. And Saw’s words seem to help him coalesce his thoughts because he quickly comes to the decision that they are going to get Omega and then desert, and he doesn’t hide this from any of the Batch members, not even Crosshair.

Side note 1: This episode also has some really beautiful indications of how much Hunter cares too: him saying “nice work” to Crosshair after their training session, him yelling “no!” when Caleb and Crosshair are fighting because he’s worried about either of them harming the other, and him telling Omega to stay away from them because their squad is nothing but trouble.

Side note 2: Omega tells Crosshair that she knows what he’s going to do before he’s taken away. Then when they are all gearing up in the hanger and about to go look for Crosshair, she hears footsteps coming and tells them they won’t have to look far. She knows that not only are they about to be found by troopers in general, but that Crosshair specifically will be with them. I wonder if as Nala Se’s assistant she knew what the procedure would be to try and enhance Crosshair’s chip and turn him against them.

#the bad batch #Hunter bad batch #tech bad batch #crosshair bad batch #omega bad batch #aftermath #Hunter #tbb #analysis #Hunter analysis #some light ramblings #somelightramblings

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if-found-return-to-sender · 2 years

Text

Just For You~ Bill Weasley

Y/H means your house.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spending the summer with the Weasleys was something that Y/n thought would be full of stories and none of the romance.

However, the twins never told her that their older brother Bill would be home during those months.

Arriving with trunks from the past school year, kid after kid entered into the cozy burrow that belongs to the Weasley family. The home quickly filled up to the brim with conversations between one another about how it felt good for the school year to be over.

After another hectic year of Harry Potter's antics. This time producing a tight-knit group known as Dumbledore's Army. And the death of Y/n's father Sirius Black.

All they could talk about was the impending war that was to come at any day now. The kids are all being quickly shushed by Mrs. Weasley to not talk about something so foolish. Threatening them with a wooden spoon she was using to cook dinner with.

Sitting at the kitchen table watching it all, Y/n Black, the twin's longest friend was scared at what could happen within the coming years, and what might happen to her family. The only one she wants to keep safe, the only ones she has left.

Y/n just finished her wizarding education at Hogwarts and doesn’t know what to do now. Her being just a year older than the twins. Becoming their friend by helping them out of trouble on way more than one occasion.

As of now, this is all she has left. Them and the Order of Phoenix.

All Y/n would like to do is have a great summer after the horrible school year she had. Sitting at the table she closes her eyes just enjoying the bickering between Ginny and Ron, listening to prank planning in the room upstairs, Hermione giving Harry a lecture on why he needs to be careful, and Mrs. Weasley humming to herself as she cooks. Then she hears it. Someone apparates onto the grass field outside the Weasley home.

Quickly Y/n stands and is out the door before anyone can ask her where she’s going. She’s quick to get to the field wand at the ready. Only to see another redhead.

She still points her wand at the stranger, not knowing if she can trust him or not. She doesn’t really do the whole trust thing anymore.

Everyone else in the house is quick to follow her out of the house into the yard. Mrs. Weasley is first to run to the man and gives him one of her famous hugs saying, “My boy how good it is to see you. How… Why… you know what it doesn’t matter you are here now and that is all that matters.”

Another one is all that Y/n can think in that moment of seeing this play out in front of her.

“You have another brother?” Y/n asks George.

“Yeah,” George says. “We never told you,” Fred chimed in.

“NO, you never told me!” Y/n exclaims, “Any more siblings I should know about.”

“The only other one you haven’t met yet is Charlie but he’s in Romania having fun with dragons,” Fred says.

The twins walk away from Y/n and towards their brother.

Y/n finally gets a good look at the oldest Weasley boy taking in every feature he has. From the scars dawning his face to the rugged look of his hands to the broad and muscular shoulders that top out his frame. All she can do is admire him and She doesn’t know his name yet.

She retreats into the house to evade the twins and pushing questions she knows they might ask. Only to pass Ginny on her way into the house.

“You fancy Bill don’t you,” she asks you.

“You fancy Harry,” Y/n quips back at her. Leaving the youngest Weasley in a flustered state.

The very short conversation with Ginny makes Y/n walk even faster to get into the house before anyone else can bother her with questions. Not until dinner was ready.

So she stayed in Ginny’s room reading a book until Mrs. Weasley yelled up the stairs that dinner was ready. This is followed by the heavy footsteps of the boys spilling out of what Y/n assumed was Bill’s bedroom.

She as well made her way down the stairs into the almost full dining room with one empty seat between Bill and George. This seat must be where Charlie would sit when he was home.

Y/n makes her plate with the delicious food being passed around the table from one person to another. She begins to eat without saying a word to anyone, and nobody questioned it. Y/n wasn’t quiet because she was sitting between the two Weasley boys but because this reminds her of one of the few memories she has with her father. Christmas at Grimmauld Place was a weird and untraditional one, but it was a good definition of the people Y/n calls her family.

So the people around her carried on their conversations without including her in them. The many conversations happening around her get drowned out by the rapid heartbeat Y/n can hear next to her. Leaving Y/n to say.

“Are you okay?”

But it’s not to George, its to Bill.

Bill says nothing but continues to eat and pick at the food in front of him.

“Hey, I’m talking to you. Are you okay?” this time Y/n nudges him to try and get a response from him.

“Hmm.. oh yeah I’m fine,” Bill responds.

“Go outside get some fresh air, before your heart bursts,” Y/n says back to him.

“I can’t they’ll know somethings off with me,” he says.

“Follow me,” She says.

With that Y/n stands grabs her plate and walks outside. Nobody says a word as she walks out, they only stare at her. When she’s finally outside there are hushed whispers about if she’s okay or not.

Bill quickly stands and follows Y/n out taking his plate with him too. Closing the door behind him he sees Y/n using her wand to get a blanket out of the open window of the twins’ room laying it on the grass in front of her.

“I think you may have followed me too quickly,” she says with a little chuckle, “sit.”

Y/n sits on the blanket patting the spot next to her inviting Bill to sit down on the blanket.

“So mystery girl tell me something about yourself,” Bill says breaking the silence.

“We both know that the twins told you everything about me. So how about we start with you telling me about yourself,” Y/n says back to him.

“You’ve got me. They talk about you quite regularly,” Bill responds.

“Yeah they’ll do that when you get them out of trouble with Snape,” Y/n says. “You got them out of trouble with Snape! How did you do that? I would honestly like to know for the next time I have to encounter that man,” Bill chuckles.

“Well, the twins had started hexing cauldrons left out in the positions classroom, and snape found out. So what I did was hex his wand into casting the hex while he was in his office. Made one of the cauldrons go off on my way out. The man was confused for weeks trying to figure out who and how this happened to his wand,” she explains to him, “he was more worried about his wand than what the twins did to the cauldrons.”

Bill lets out laughter the entire time Y/n is explaining to him what happened. Y/n smiling as Bill’s laughter dies down.

“So tell me about yourself. Hell, I don’t even know what your name is,” Y/n says to him.

“Well to start off with my name is William but everyone calls me Bill,” he responds.

“Solid start,” she quips.

“I’m the oldest Weasley. The one everyone looks up to. Went to Hogwarts graduated and became a curse breaker, with the scars to prove it. That’s the extent of my life so far,” he finishes.

“Why was your heart beating so fast while sitting at the table?” she asks.

“You could hear my heart?” he asks.

“I asked you a question first,” she spits out quickly.

“When I was on a case I got to see first hand just what those death eaters are capable of. It scares me about what could happen to my family if they get the thought that we’re helping Harry,” he fastly explains.

“I saw what they’re capable of too. I saw that Bellatrix didn’t even second guess herself when she killed my father. She killed someone from her own family. It makes me believe they’ll do anything to win the war. The one that’s coming. It’s only a matter of time till they reach someone you love,” Y/n says back.

Y/n moves the plate from her lap onto the grass beside her. Looking up at the sky. “Enjoy the time you have with them now before the war officially starts,” she says to him, “I would give everything for just one more moment with my dad. Just one more. Then again everyone says that when they loose someone they love.”

“I enjoy every minute with them. Even the rocky moments and arguments I love it. I would even go to say that I missed it while I was away,” he says back.

“Yeah, I missed it too during every school break. No matter how mad the twins drive every waking moment,” Y/n chuckles, making Bill chuckle as well.

A silence fills the void of conversation while the two of them finish eating their dinner outside on Fred’s quilt.

Once Y/n is done with her food she sets the plate to the side and lays on her back to look up at the starry sky. She listens in on Bills heart again for background noise only to find it racing only slightly this time.

“You wanna ask me a question or something?” Y/n asks Bill.

“How did you know?” He says.

“You’ve been quiet for too long for you not to be contemplating something, and everyone wants to ask me questions since they now know who I truely am. So I assumed,” she says back in a hurry.

“Well you’re right. I was goin-” he cut off.

“As I usually am,” she says,” continue.”

“I was going to ask, What house your mom was in? I ask only because you’re a Y/H and your dad was a Gryffindor, so what was your mom,” He asks.

“She was also a Gryffindor. To be honest I think that was the only thing my parents had in common.” she answers,” Now it’s my turn to ask you a question.”

Bill’s eyes go wide. He didn’t think that he would be asked a question in return for his, but the possibilities of what the question could be were endless. “Okay,” is all he can say.

“What’s your patronous?” she asks.

Bill brings his eyebrows together in confusion at the random question that came from her mouth.

“What!? It’s my favorite thing to find out when I meet new witches and wizards. You would be shocked at how big of a tell it is of someones personality. So what is yours?” she babbles.

“How about just for you, I show you instead of tell you,” he responds.

“Okay, I’m waiting,” she sasses back.

Bill pulls out his wand and casts the much anticipated spell. Y/n was in shock at the animal the light formed.

A lion plain as day.

When the animal disappears Bill turns to look at Y/n and the look on her face. He wasn’t expecting to see the shocked expression on her face, and immediately starts thinking the worst.

“Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?” he quickly asks her.

“I’m fine. I need to show you something though,” she says back to him.

Her response confuses Bill, but he sits back and lets her do what she needs to. She pulls her wand out again to cast her patronus.

“Expecto Patronum,” she whispers. The light flows from her wand and begins to take shape of an animal. The light takes shape. And it takes shape of a lioness.

It now dawns on Bill that together their patronuses create a matching set. This is something that Y/n hadn’t heard of since James and Lily Potter. Y/n is waiting for Bill to say something after showing him her patronus, nervous he won’t say anything.

“That’s incredible. I haven’t heard of anyone having previous matching patronuses before they meet. Well I have but only once and that was between Lily and James Potter. That is the coolest thing that has ever happened to me,” he rambles with a smile.

“It is the rarest thing for people with matching patronuses to meet. I haven’t even met another person with any kind of lion patronus.” Y/n says in shock.

“Well I guess now you have,” he quips back.

“I guess we have to get married now,” she says sarcastically.

“I think we should start with at least a relationship first,” he says back to her.

“Yeah, I guess we should,” she replies.

#Harry Potter Characters #Harry Potter Smut #bill weasley #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley x reader #weasley family #molly weasley #weasley twins #harry potter imagine #ginny weasley #imagines #Harry Potter

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thebennettdiaries · 1 year

Note

Prompt: Ripper Stefan takes a liking to Bonnie and gets jealous whenever Damon is with her.

She might have noticed his hot back first but after that Bonnie really hadn't paid attention to Stefan in that way. After all, it becomes pretty clear that he has eyes for Elena and her friend deserves a bit of happiness after everything she has gone through. She and Stefan exist on the outskirts of one another, friends but not really, and they both seem okay with that.

Until a switch flips.

Literally.

Bonnie is stretching her legs to get ready to run the track circle when his shadow slides over her skin. She can already feel the death wafting off of him and braces herself before she looks up to find him smiling at her with a mouth full of teeth. It is unsettling how much he looks like himself, but not.

"Hey, Bonnie," he says and there is something so smooth about his voice that she knits the features of her face together in confusion. "Going for a run?"

"Uh," Bonnie begins, glancing down at the obvious signs that she is. "Yes."

"We'll run together," Stefan announces with an air of finality that she finds herself falling into step with him. He is a machine, capable of moving swiftly yet he ensures that she controls the pace. The moment she speeds up, so does he. "Not trying to get away from me, are you Bonnie?"

"And what if I am?" she shoots back, momentarily forgetting that his new (old) favorite pastime is ripping people into pieces.

"That would hurt my feelings," he tells her, his mouth falling into a mockery of a frown. It doesn't last long --- the next moment he is showing his teeth again.

That does it.

Bonnie pulls to a stop and his quick reflexes allow him to do the same. For a moment they stare one another down and then she asks the obvious question. "What do you want, Stefan?"

He waits a beat and then his eyes travel downward, tracing along her curves. An arm crosses over the other and by the time their eyes meet again, he is smug.

"Oh," she says, the only word she can think of as she tries to process this new turn of events. It sinks in, coming to rest in the pit of her stomach.

Oh.

From that moment on, Stefan doesn't give her much peace. He shows up on her porch, lazily pushing himself back and forth on the swing as she steps out with her backpack tucked against her body. "I'll walk you."

He leans against the fence at cheerleading practice, his gaze following her every move. It is unnerving, not just for her but for everyone else. In fact, he seems to be scaring off any potential competition. He is the only one there, clapping loudly every time she lands a toe touch.

She has a feeling he watches her sleep, although she can't prove that one yet.

She can't take it much longer.

She does something she would normally be loathed to do. She goes to Damon. The moment he opens the door, she is pushing her way past. "We have to do something about your brother."

"Well, hello to you too, Bon Bon," he drawls as he closes the door and follows her into the depths of the boarding house.

She ignores any attempt to bait her, instead getting down to business. "He is hurting people. He is causing so much damage. He is..."

"Sniffing after the town witch," Damon finishes.

Bonnie presses her lips together, annoyed that Damon has gotten to the bottom of her true intentions that quickly. This is not about the innocent people, this is about her. This is about her peace of mind. She doesn't want to be the object of Stefan's twisted form of affection.

She huffs. "He is supposed to love Elena. He is not supposed to even notice me..."

Damon raises both his eyebrows and shifts closer to her. "Really? He is supposed to just ignore a beautiful, powerful creature? I mean, he's stupid but he's not completely clueless."

Bonnie puts a hand up to stop Damon. He walks right into it and as a result she is standing there with her fingers splayed on his chest when Stefan saunters in. He stands there for a moment, watching his brother and his witch. Then he frowns.

Someone is dying tonight because of this moment.

"Hands off, brother," Stefan says evenly.

"She's touching me," Damon points out.

Bonnie jerks her hand away. She can feel the testosterone flowing. "Uh, let's get it clear. I don't want anything to do with either of you," she says, pushing each word out slowly in hopes that it sinks home for at least one of the brothers.

Damon snorts.

Stefan grins.

Bonnie realizes she is in so much trouble.

#stefonnie #bamon #bonnie bennett #stefan salvatore #damon salvatore

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muppenthings · 2 months

Note

Does Gorm know how to show affection? actually how does your mers that interact with people learn how to show affection?

Oh he definitely shows affection, in his own way! He's very "vocal", as in he'll communicate loads with you. Sharing knowledge, experiences, ideas and so on. He'll want to tell you all about that new thing he found or where you can find a good fishing spot. Will a human understand those rapidly changing colors and happy puffs of air? No. If he likes the person, he'll want to just hang out with them, see what they're doing and so on.

Octomers in general aren't very cuddly or affectionate, being a quite solitary species. But if they do show affection it's by holding another mer's arm, or anywhere else. A small, subtle contact. And of course there's a bioluminescence display of happiness/content.

As for learned affection, Gorm's discovered that humans can give things like pets with their small hands. It's quite interesting and he wants to experience those more. And also perhaps the humans would like those pats back?

As for my other mers, some had to learn to adjust their physical displays of affection with smaller folks. Runt is a natural at adjusting and taking ques and reading body language. So he's very much selftaught! And it helps that he's not as massive as the others.

More under the cut cause I ramble...

For Runt it's part of his nature and he'll happily show his affection to those comfortable with it. Saehl mers will rub and press their noses into eachother. They're quite scent oriented and the scent of a loved one is instant dopamine for them. So Runt is very content to shove his whole face into you, puffing happily. If you puff back he'll be ecstatic! He's very quick to adapt his affection to the individual and if someone doesn't want his face all over them, he'll happily pat them on the back instead for example. Saehls form very strong family bonds and friendships where touch is casual and constant. Sunbasking side by side, grooming and so on. So if anyone is in the vicinity, he'll want to be close and up in their space if possible. He'll also keep an eye on open, making sure that the people around him are happy and healthy too. If he senses a hint of sadness or anything, he'll do his best to make them feel better. He'll absolutely remind them of their doctor's appointment they told him about four weeks ago. xD

Tide is in the process of becoming more confident to express affection again. He wasn't truly part of the pod he was mostly raised in, his affection were either taken for granted or unwanted. He grew up thinking that affection just wasn't meant for him. He was extremely jealous and bitter of other mers giving and receiving affection so easily. Merry's being an excellent support/teacher there. He's awkward and flustered but they're very patient and encouraging. :)

Keiki is from a mer species that lives in tight-knit pods. So physical contact is very natural to him and something he needs to be happy. As he was raised by land folk, he got a lot of feedback and practise with them. They taught him to go slowly, to not lift them up too quickly, to be gentle and to not grab someone in a burst of affection etc. He can still be a little too quick sometimes and knows he can be too much so he tries his best to not be overwhelming, especially if he's on the larger side.

A thing he learned to adapt was hugging. When he was young he'd try to hug the ship (and nearly break it pfff) so they quickly had to steer that into a different outlet. To satiate the need for closeness, they taught him to instead bring them to a cheek, or cup them in his hands and hold them to his neck. He'll also make a very specific sound, like soft fluttering singing tones. It's a very unique sound that these mers only use to a loved one, it has many layers to it but it comes down to signal "I love you".

Keiki's also very happy to help out, little acts of service, when he's able to. He was raised in that everyone helps out and take care of eachother. Unfortunately he can be clumsy so the acts of thoughtfulness can take a wrong turn. He wants to help clean the deck of a boat? The deck gets completely soaked and things wash overboard. And he doesn't quite learn, he just keeps trying his best.™

Cetus is also from a species of mer that is very physical in their affection. It's instinctual, as natural as breathing. But unlike Keiki, he can't be as "small" as 200ft-ish and the humans were very strict in the no-touch department when he was growing up. So the lack of practise coupled with his sheer size, leaves him struggling with how to properly satiate the instinctual need to rub against a person he likes. So he's often rubbing against boats, or any other object, the person is on or try to rub his face against them directly. Which isn't very optimal.

But the current people working with him are slowly easing into being more physical with him. Like letting him touch them with a finger pad, or let him nose them. Still, no lifting them up. But they're slowly teaching him, and eachother, how to safely allow him to express affection.

Cetus will also bring gifts. They're not very nice gifts but he's doing what he can in such a restricted area. He'll gift things like seagulls (alive and somehow uninjured), a piece of the whale that was previously brought to him, half of a rusty bicycle...

No, he will not be taught otherwise. Better accept the seagull less he bring you a part of a boat.

#Ask #smolcomfycat #oc Gorm #oc Runt #oc Tide #oc Merry #oc Keiki #oc Cetus #I may have missed the mark on answering the actual question Im sorry xD

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cf56 · 2 months

Note

As a fellow yaxxer, I’m curious. Do you have any headcanons on the blending of the Warner and Goof families? How Yakko warmed up to Goofy (and by extension the rest of the Disney gang, cause let’s be real those guys are Max’s family too), and how Max warmed up to Wakko and Dot?

This ask has "only" been in my inbox for around 6 months instead of a year like the others. Still, I'm sorry for taking so long to get to it.

Seeing this ask for the first time was what made me start officially considering myself a yaxxer! I certainly have some thoughts, many spurred on by my great friend and Yax master @cringetownusa.

I think Yakko and Goofy would warm up to each other very quickly. Goofy would become a father figure to Yakko. He would support Yakko's interests and accept his personality for what it is, instead of rejecting him like so many others. Yakko would rib him but respect his goofiness, his disarming genuineness, and how much of a family man he is. I can actually see Yakko being more genuine with Goofy than even Max. Goofy thinks that Yakko is a nice young man- Max can even get confused at just how calm and respectful Yakko is with his dad.

The rest of the Disney gang is certainly a different story. Yakko and his sibs have a distaste for Disney. Max and his dad get a pass, but the rest would take some getting used to for Yakko. He would probably pick on Mickey and the others until he realizes that they're not evil or sappy killjoys or anything. Even then, their relationship might not be the warmest. It would be filled with wacky hijinks. Mostly playful, but toeing the line.

Max getting along with and genuinely liking Wakko and Dot would be a prerequisite for Yakko to even consider a relationship with him. Wakko and Dot may have been suspicious of him at first, teaming up to take him on with protective toony antics. But after Max didn't turn on them and treat them badly like everyone else, they would quickly warm up to him. Like Goofy to Yakko, he would become a sort of father figure for them.

Max would love their goofiness and their mischievous personalities. Max and the Warners would be a very tight knit group, Max would almost become a fourth Warner. He'd hang around the water tower all the time, play with Wakko and Dot, engage in their interests. He'd take them out to do things like shopping for food (Wakko) and clothes (Dot). He'd be the only one besides Yakko who is willing to do things like that with them. Yakko would be happy to have a little pressure taken off, too.

So yes, I think Max would love the little sibs from the beginning. It's part of what attracted him to Yakko at all- seeing his softer side with his family. Their families would pretty seamlessly integrate. Goofy loves being a father figure and the Warners need one. Wakko and Dot would love having another playmate, someone outside their family. Max would be happy to oblige them. It'd be a super close family unit, because it would have to be for Yakko and Max's relationship to work.

#animaniacs #yax #yakko warner #max goof #goofy #goofy goof #disney #answered ask #cfposts

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merakiui · 1 year

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I feel like the Noble Bell Compound is very religious and cult like. It's gotta be rough to be a woman there, like handmaid's tale vibes

Terribly rough. T_T and you are so right. It's extremely cult-like. It's the situation in which the leader (Rollo) comes in to help when all hope seems lost and everyone thinks he's an absolute saint when he builds the compound up with sensibility and sturdier foundations and walls, as well as fostering such crooked ideals. A lot of people within the compound look up to him, treat him like he's some savior or a prophet, and Rollo always seems to know best. His two righthand men are so blindly faithful to him, and Rollo appears so kind and fair with everyone, including those within his close-knit circle. He's just so forgiving, so sweet. How could anyone distrust him? How could he lead anyone astray?

The entire compound feels like a utopia amidst so much dystopia, but the people who reside within don't see what lies beneath the compound in underground dungeons, where misbehaving nuisances are kept and silenced. Anyone who tries to question things, who tries to speak out against the little paradise Rollo has manufactured so dearly, so carefully, so graciously, conveniently vanishes to who-knows-where. No one questions anything because Rollo always has a perfect lie at the ready to keep the masses calm and collected.

Being a woman in the compound is not fun. At all. :( you're treated warmly (at first) just so you'll be tricked into a false sense of security, so you'll be more likely to accept the conditions in which you will be kept (and used). But the longer you spend amidst so many other brides, the clearer it becomes that you are not in equal standing with the others in this compound and Rollo certainly doesn't seem to think you are anything more than livestock meant for reproduction. However terrible his views are, Rollo still ensures the women are given adequate protection and care. After all, he isn't a monster (so he claims). You'll live comfortably (not as comfortably as those who are more privileged, but it's better than nothing), and you're given healthy meals each morning, afternoon, and night. You live like anyone else would, but there are a few rules that permit only to you.

For one, every woman within the compound must remain a virgin. If you don't bleed or feel any pain/discomfort the first time your husband takes you, you're seen as impure, a liar, a filthy slut. And when you're labeled as such, you're treated as such. Rollo conducts pussy inspections to make sure everyone is healthy and oh-so-pure (how he gleans that from running his gloved fingers along your folds or even forcing two inside your tight warmth just to see you squirm, you have no idea. He always spends extra time examining you; the brides gossip over this, eagerly insisting with hushed whispers that the compound leader fancies you. You shudder to think someone like Rollo would ever have his eye on you.)

Additionally, every bride must always wear white. It's a soft color, the symbolism of purity. You're meant to be demure and obedient things, subservient to the men who will choose from the lot of you as if you're nothing more than candy in a jar, eaten as easily as you are discarded. Every morning, it is mandatory that the brides stand before the compound leader and, in unison, list their vows, all of which have been stamped into your memory like a bad tattoo. Every morning, you promise you are pure, insist that your only hopes and dreams are to provide for the compound, to be good mothers, to be good brides, to remain untouched by sin, to remember these vows and hold them close to your heart. Essentially, by participating in this daily routine, you strip away parts of yourself and replace them with the parts the compound wants you to have, and by verbalizing them so often you'll begin to believe them, especially when everyone around you shares the same opinions and feelings on the matter. It is the finest form of brainwashing. And to make matters worse, to cement these ideals that have been practically engraved into you, Rollo always applauds the lot of you, smiles with so much satisfaction, praises everyone for such pleasant mindsets.

Every month his voice seems less like the harshest, grating static and more like a heavenly choir because, for all you've endured and will continue to endure, he is still the only beacon of light in this dark, dismal world.

#twisted chit chat #twst apocalypse au #yandere twst #n/sfw #tw: misogyny #he is so gross!! so vile ew!!!!! >_<#but i would comply so quickly if he wanted to inspect me #anything for you mr. compound leader <3 <3 #i would say any other compound is better than noble bell #but when your compound is run by a man with the biggest breeding kink (*ahem* azul malleus kalim *ahem*)#there is no such thing as a 'better safer compound'#actually to correct myself when your compound is run by MEN there is no better safer compound lol ;;;;

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allieebobo · 1 year

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Eid Mubarak :)

I'm so sorry this is a little late, but Eid Mubarak to everyone who celebrates! (And Selamat Hari Raya to folks who come from where I come from! <3)

Here's a little snippet of Rayyan and MC back home, celebrating :)

Part I.

Rayyan's family have just gotten back from their neighbourhood mosque, and now they're busy with the finishing touches to the meal preparations.

Little Mahaila is still a little too young to help out, but she doesn't wanted to miss out on all the fun, so Rayyan hoists her up to the kitchen counter, and Mahaila keeps up a constant stream of chatter directed at MC, while Rayyan and their mother busy themselves with the cooking.

Already the counter is laden with huge colorful dishes, and the smell is to die for. Mahaila's pointing out each of the dishes to MC one-by-one, and Rayyan and their mother occasionally chime in with details and little family anecdotes and recipe instructions.

There's Mahshi—stuffed peppers with tomato sauce, her grandparents' favorite, Batatis bil frakh—potatoes with chicken, her dad's favorite, and Mesaka’a—oven roasted eggplant with ground beef, which is Rayyan's favorite. Rayyan no longer quite remembers how it had tasted, back in Cairo, but ever since they'd moved to Seattle, the dish has become a family specialty, mostly because all the ingredients can be easily found in the grocery shops in Seattle.

Part II.

Rayyan's mother holds a spoon out to Rayyan. "Come, help me taste the Molokhia," she says. "Does it need more cilantro?"

Rayyan takes a big mouthful of the thick green soup which always tastes a little too healthy, in their opinion. They scrunch up their face, swallow, and nod—a little weakly.

Their mother smacks them on the arm and snorts. "I don't know why I bother," she says, shaking her head and bustles over to offer it to MC instead.

The shock of the taste makes MC blink, then breathe out softly, before allowing it to swirl around their tongue, delightfully distinct from anything they've ever tasted. They detect chicken broth, which forms the strong, comforting base, then the delicate and familiar layers of cilantro, garlic, salt and pepper, but there's another taste—strong and clean—cutting through everything else. "Wow," they breathe, genuinely astounded. "It's amazing. What is it?"

Rayyan's mother beams at MC. "I think what you are tasting is the leaf of jute tree. I am happy you like it. It is my favorite too." She nudges Rayyan in the ribs. "We have good taste. Unlike this one."

Rayyan makes a face at you. "Suck up," they whisper, for your ears only, but even their usual knitted brows can't hide the big grin that's spreading across their face.

Part III.

A loud clatter interrupts your conversation, and Rayyan looks up in alarm, still swiping at their mouth with an arm. Ishaq, one of Rayyan's twin brothers, pauses guiltily mid-stride, about halfway to the kitchen door. You hadn't noticed him come in. In his hands, there's a big bowl of kahk—nut cookies dusted with sugar. A bunch of cutlery lie on the floor, knocked over in his rush to escape with the loot.

Mahaila, beaming, lips also stained with the evidence of powdered sugar, helpfully points a finger at her brother.

"You already ate like five of them," Rayyan's mother scolds, taking the plate from Ishaq and placing it firmly on the table. "Shoo now! Before I ban you from kahk for life!"

His jaw drops, and he quickly scurries away obediently.

Rayyan snorts at you, and sees you eyeing the cookies curiously. They pick one out of the plate, then close the distance between you, smiling. "Would you like one?" they ask, voice dipping low as they lean in closer to you.

Part IV.

MC's heart flutters, and they hop off the counter, face now inches from Rayyan's. "If it's as sweet as you are," MC says, grinning, "then yes."

Rayyan bring a hand up, then pop the sweet treat into MC's mouth, studying their expression closely.

There's an immediate burst of rich, nutty sweetness. MC lets out a soft groan of appreciation.

Rayyan laughs, then brings their thumb up to wipe the sugar from MC's bottom lip, green eyes sparkling. MC catches their hand. That's when Rayyan leans in for a quick kiss, tasting the sweetness of soft sugar on MC's lips. When they finally step back, there's an infuriatingly smug smile on their face. "The cookies are good this year, aren't they? I helped make them."

#CT:OS #college tennis: origin story #interactive fiction #rayyan #bonus scene #eid al fitr #eid mubarak everyone

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mytrouvailles · 6 months

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night in the woods is such an important game for me and i can’t ever explain as in depth as i want to but i just replayed it for the seventh year in a row so here we go

mae’s from a small town, a poor town. she’s got her close knit friends. and everyone else has got this perception of her that they’ve attached to her since she was young. lots of people bringing up her past and not even opening their minds to the fact that she may have changed, it’s just a bunch of no one’s forgotten who you are or what you did, you know. people that never even knew mae in the past, like lori m., know about what she did. it’s small town talk, and small town talk always moves around in ways you never want it to.

it takes forever in the game for mae to finally open up about why she left college, and it’s because of exactly what the small town folk have assumed of her: she hasn’t changed. she still has this illness and she represses it because that’s what she’s told to do, rather than process it, work through it like selmers says to. she represses it so deeply that we, the player, spend the entire game wondering what our character is going through. we see mae’s thoughts and feelings and what she says and doesn’t say to people, and yet she never mentions how difficult it is for her to feel alright, even internally. and it’s so devastating to have a repressed illness that you’ve shown so many clear signs of, one that you’ve been taught to ignore until your wires snap. one that takes so hard of a toll on your well-being, makes it impossible to do what seems so easy for others. and it’s so real.

i think that’s what i love most and identify most with this game, is that it’s real. from mae’s repressed mental illnesses to gregg’s insecurities with himself to bea’s losses and angus’ abusive home life, it’s real. there are people out there with lives exactly like these.

i’m from a small town, a poor town. i’ve known people like mae, gregg, and bea, and angus. i’ve known kids that were neglected, abused, ignored. i’ve known shoplifters and people that armed themselves on the street and who’ve lost their loved ones at the worst of times. i personally was not the kindest or well-behaved teenager, and i’ve watched the same people i was with then either grow into redeemable people or get themselves into something irreversible. and just like in the game, people act like they’ve forgotten about all of that. that’s small town polite right there. something happened and the signs were there, it was all the talk for a while. our moms told us not to talk to you. and suddenly you’re told to get over it without any sort of diagnosis, an answer. and everyone passes over it, even your closest friends, as if they have blocked it out of their brains for the convenience of not dealing with it. until you drown in it, and something else happens.

i’m in college now, and every time i visit home i get this feeling, one that nothing changed but yet everything did. i see someone i know with every step i take. some will serve me at the restaurant i go to eat at to catch up with my family. some will be greeting me at the only grocery store in town. some will have passed away and some will have been arrested. my high school friends have grown up, they’ve either worked or graduated college or are nearing there, they’ve set themselves up with full time careers and plans and relationships. and yet i feel as though i’ve regressed in life, i’ve decided to go to school for even longer to prevent growing up. i stayed here and got older, while you went off and stayed the same.

and it’s one thing to feel like you’ve made it no where compared to your lowest point, but it’s another to still have doubts of yourself after you’ve become a better person. you can move away, make new friends, find a loving relationship. you can start on a completely clear slate, but at the end of everything, it’s nothing but a facade if you don’t truly feel redeemable in your heart. you question how you deserve something so good, how you possibly could be seen and loved by people who know what you are, when you don’t even know yourself. i’m a good person, right? i have really up up days and really down down days, and i don’t know which it is until it’s over sometimes.

mae has no idea what she is, what her point is, there’s nothing but holding on to what she thinks is herself and her friends and her world, which is realistically so much different than how she sees it. gregg knows what he is, he knows what he was and what he wants to be. he knows that there are parts of himself that get in the way of truly believing he is good. i think that mae is in some sort of denial about learning who she is in her early adult life, constantly looking back at the past and pretending that things aren’t different when they are. where gregg is growing into himself, coming to terms with commitment and responsibility and making up for the reckless person he once was. still fearing to regress back into his more careless self, and destroy those expectations of maturity when mae is around.

throughout my seventh play-through, i found myself relating to mae and gregg more than any other characters. i have a feeling that as i have grown up, moved away, started taking care of myself as an adult, i see more and feel more for what mae and gregg each go through. mae is unhealthily attached to her hometown because attempting to start new had regressed her mental state. gregg seems to be doing all he can to get out of town, move away and start fresh. i believe that mae and gregg had grown up in their own fucked up ways, yet they have discovered opposite, personal reasons for moving past it all. they represent something that one person could always experience; they could ache for and return to familiarity, whether it’s real or not. but they could also beg and work for change. these are two feelings that i hold deep in my chest, and some days i feel one or the other, or both.

a small hometown is a bittersweet experience; it can leave you with a sense of safety, community, and flexible routine. but it can also be despicable, it can be suffocating, it can be nothing but another town, another mass of people to live far away from. mae and gregg represent this spectrum, from enjoying staying in one place to doing anything to get away from it. their reasons and their fears and their feelings are so real.

i am a woman in her 20s, who has always grown up with a complicated relationship with her hometown. i’ve never played a game that has ever hit me this hard, nor stuck with me for this long. i make it a point to replay it every year because it helps. i realize something new about these characters, i identify more with their experiences. it’s comforting, and it’s healing.

so when i tell people about this game, and i talk about getting a tattoo from it and they look at me like i’m crazy, i understand that they’ll never know why.

#don’t even get me started with maebea because GOD i can relate to that too #i can’t relate to angus i’ll admit but i knew many people like him #is this an analysis or a trauma dump? we’ll see #this game means a lot to me #night in the woods #nitw #nitw mae #nitw gregg

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jostystyles · 1 year

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cooler | tj

a/n: this is my entry for @antoineroussel 's winter fic exchange! demi, thanks for putting this together as always!! this fic was written for @butgilinsky <3 I hope you enjoy it dear!! special thanks to @comphy-and-cozy for letting me brain rot about my tyson jost = nick miller agenda, and @suitandtys for the title. divider graphics are by @firefly-graphics . this fic is inspired by nick and jess's first kiss in new girl. i hope you enjoy <3

warnings: fluff, alcohol, use of she/her pronouns. mat barzal is an instigator.

word count: 2.8k

The All-Star Weekend, for a certain group of guys, meant the ability to show off their skills for the game they love, and praise for being considered the best of the best. But for the rest of them, it meant something else.

Freedom & Relaxation.

Of course, the way the free time was being spent varied from player to player. Some guys returned home to spend time with their kids and families, some took weekend trips, and some just stayed put.

But for Tyson Jost, Mat Barzal, and Dante Fabbro, it meant a reunion. Typically, they only saw each other during the season when they played each other respectfully, and in the summer when they trained together amongst other things. This break, though, they’d be traveling to Cancun for a weekend getaway with some of their friends from back home. Though they all hailed from different hometowns, they had a pretty tight knit group that tried to see each other as much as possible. So when the group chat collectively agreed everyone would be free for a trip, it was decided. This was going to be a trip to remember.

“Wait, why the fuck do I need my passport?” Mat exclaimed inquisitively, his voice echoing through the speakers of the FaceTime call.

Abruptly pausing her packing, (Y/N) turned to grab her phone off the bed. “What? Mat, where the hell do you think Cancun is?”

“Uh. Florida.” He said, like she had asked him the stupidest question in the world.

“Jesus fuck, Mat, it’s in Mexico. Are you kidding me? Your plane ticket literally says you’re flying into Mexico.”

As if his mind had just been completely blown, which it had in a way, Mat’s expression turned to one of total shock. “Wow. That makes a lot of sense, actually.”

(Y/N) shook her head with a sigh, wondering how he has managed to make it this far. Out of all her close friends, Mat was the one she’d known the longest. The two of them had grown up on the same street, their families becoming friends over the years. Despite the jokes from everyone, they’d actually defied the odds to show that boys and girls can be just friends as they’d formed such a tight bond throughout their lives and consider each other like siblings.

Naturally, they had the same friends. Enter Dante, who came into the picture when he and Mat started playing hockey together. Over the years, the three of them grew closer and other friends came and went, but as they got older, a group solidified. As they became teenagers, Tyson became a part of that group. (Y/N) still remembers the day she first met him.

Her family was the last to arrive at the Fabbro’s lake house, as usual. This had been a tradition for the past few years, and she usually anticipated it each time. But for some reason she was nervous. She was 14 now, and things were changing. She was no longer the nerdy little girl that hung out with the hockey boys, physically at least. The thought of being in a bathing suit around a bunch of rowdy boys made her feel awkward and uncomfortable. She reminded herself it was just Mat and Dante, her two idiot best friends who would make fun of her for the color of the swimsuit, not how she looked in it. Shaking it off, she grabbed her suitcase and wandered through the cabin to the room she shared with Dante’s sisters. Tossing the bag on the bed, she quickly grabbed her book to head down to the water. (Y/N) closed the door behind her and turned around to walk away, only to take a few steps and collide with something bare and warm. She fell to the ground, letting out an “Oof.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going are you ok?” A voice rambled on.

“Yeah, no problem ‘m good, I-” (Y/N) replied, her voice faltering as she looked up. Her eyes were met with the softest brown ones, flashing at her with a look of concern. She felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

“Here, let me help you up. I’m Tyson, um, Tyson Jost. Mat and Dante’s friend from hockey.” The boy said, reaching down to help her up.

“I’m (Y/N). Also Mat and Dante’s friend, but um. Not from hockey.” She said, eliciting a laugh from Tyson.

He stuck his hand out before saying, “Well, here’s to hoping we become each other’s friend too.”

Shaking his hand, (Y/N) shook her head with a shy smile. A part of her knew her life would never be the same now that he was in it.

“...when Tyson gets in?”

The sound of Mat’s voice brought her back to reality. “Hm?” She replied. Rolling his eyes, Mat spoke with a teasing tone.

“I knew that saying his name would get your attention. Do you know when Tyson gets in?”

“You’re a dick. He gets in around the same time as you so I’d try and get to the house together. Gabe, Alicia, Jay and I will already be there.”

“Fer sure. You think this’ll be the trip you finally admit you’re in love with each other?”

(Y/N) shot him a glare. “I will hang up on you right now Mathew. Tyson is not in love with me.”

“You didn’t deny you’re in love with him though.”

Caught off guard, she stumbled over her words. Mat let out a laugh, saying, “(Y/N/N) you realize I know you better than anyone right? You aren’t fooling anyone. Except Tys. He’s definitely oblivious.”

“I will literally skin you alive and slice your achilles tendon if you say anything to him on this trip.”

“Love you too.”

If there was anything Tyson needed right now, it was a gigantic margarita on the beach. The past year of his life had been a bit insane, and he was in desperate need of a vacation. He’d missed his friends, too. They didn’t get to see each other that often now that they were older, and cherished times like this. His flight had landed from Buffalo a few minutes ago, and he was waiting at the baggage claim to grab his luggage. Scrolling through instagram to pass time, he felt a hand clap on his shoulder and whipped his head around.

“Oh hell yeah. Missed you brother, what’s up!” He said, turning to embrace Mat in a hug.

“Missed you too bud. You ready for the best weekend of your life? C’mon. Car’s here.”

“Jesus Christ, Leesh. I can’t believe your boss let you have his fucking house for the weekend. This place is insane.” (Y/N) exclaimed, taking in the sights that laid before her. Alicia’s boss had graciously let her utilize his beach mansion for the weekend as a thanks for her hard work at her company.

“Eh, perks of being fucking good at what I do.” Alicia said, taking a swig of moscato straight from the bottle. “Who wants a cocktail?”

“I sure do. Tequila sunrise, light on the sunrise, heavy on the tequila.” A voice cried out, followed by a huff of laughter.

Turning around, (Y/N)’s confusion turned into a smile. “Barzy, you’re not even through the door and you’re already asking for a drink? Why am I surprised?”

“You shouldn’t be. I love day drinking.” Mat stated, hugging her. “Watch out. Your boyfriend's right behind me.” He whispered in her ear, earning him a knee to his nether regions.

Pushing him away, (Y/N) turned towards the guy she’d been waiting far too long to see.

Tyson stood there, a small smile on his face. After the hell he’d been through the past 10 months, he still managed to smile. That was one of her favorite things about him. His brown eyes looked soft, and duller than usual, and she couldn’t tell if it was from the flight.

“C’mere you big oaf. I missed you, Tys.”

He hugged her for a bit longer than he intended. There was just something comforting about being in his best friend's arms again.

“Ok, if you two love birds are going to keep hugging, we’re going to get this party started. Drinking games start now.” Dante said, shoving two solo cups full of something their way.

Grabbing the cups, Tyson passed one to (Y/N). “Good to see you too, Big D. Lead the way.”

“I missed you, you know.” Tyson said, swinging his and (Y/N)’s entwined hands back and forth.

“I missed you too. Least we’re in the same state now though, right?”

“6 hours is still too far.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Well, at least I’m a train ride away instead of a plane.”

As they approached the patio, the party was already in full swing. Music was blasting, Mat was already trying to get Jay down from her place on top of the table, and Gabe and Alicia were mixing drinks like nobody's business.

Tyson shook his head. “Somebodies gonna fucking die here.”

“Either that, or we’re spending a night in a Mexican jail.” (Y/N) replied. The night was just about to begin.

To say everyone was fucked up would be putting it lightly. The drinks had been flowing consistently all evening, and it was approaching midnight. The gang had made their way inside for a game of who knows what. At this point, it was just a bunch of drunk people shouting things. Mat and Jay were sharing a bottle of wine, discussing God knows what under the dining room table. Gabe was shirtless, but wearing his swimsuit and dress socks. Tyson had somehow acquired a trench coat he found in one of the bedroom closets, and (Y/N) sported her bikini top and a bright pink tutu from god knows where.

“Guys, I think we need to call it a night. We’re gonna be so hungover tomorrow and it’s only the first day.”

“NO!” Alicia cried. “Don’t be a party pooper. You were out the latest in college.”

“We aren't in college anymore. I’m tired, Leesh.” (Y/N) wailed, resting her head dramatically on Tyson’s shoulder.

“Boring. Who wants to play another game?” Alicia shouted, gaining the attention of the whole house.

“How about good old fashioned, 7 minutes in heaven?” Jay chimed in, waggling her eyebrows mischievously.

“OOOh, nice one Jay. I’m in. Who votes Josty and (Y/N)?”

The room erupted in cheers, aside from (Y/N) and Tyson.

“Hold on, don’t we get a say in this?” Tyson retorted.

“Nope. Behind the iron curtain you go!” Alicia demanded, ushering them to the kitchen, where she then rolled the door that separated the two spaces shut.

A chant of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” began amongst the other friends, as Tyson protested.

“Open the door! This isn’t funny guys.”

The chants continued, and (Y/N) sucked in a sharp breath at Tyson’s seeming wish to be left out. Would it really be that bad to him if they kissed?

After a moment, (Y/N) spoke up. “Ok, we kissed! Sent you a picture!”

From the other side of the door, Dante looked at the picture, which was of (Y/N) and Tyson with their lips pursed, angled at each others cheeks. “That is not a kiss! C’mon, Inspector Gadget, inspect those tonsils!”

Barzy chimed in, saying, “Yeah! C’mon, Josty. Just give (Y/N) a tender, sensual, kiss, and we’ll let you right out.”

“Mat, shut up!” (Y/N) cried, knowing full well he was having a field day with this.

Tyson was desperately trying to pry the door open, but was unsuccessful. His heart was beating out of his chest. This was not how he wanted this to go.

Leaning against the counter, (Y/N) pondered, “What’s the big deal? Let’s just suck it up and french a little.” That was the tequila talking.

Tyson shot his head up at her. “Ok, fine. But don't say ‘suck it up and french a little’.”

“Ok, fine, let’s do this.”

They walked towards each other, stopping when they were in close proximity. (Y/N) could feel her heart beating a mile a minute. Tyson’s hands reached out to settle on her forearms. She could see the sparkle in his brown eyes that wasn’t there before. Later, she’d come to know, that spark only existed for her.

“Let’s just do it.” Tyson said, his voice quivering slightly.

“Let’s do it.” (Y/N) echoed. “Do it.”

“Fine.”

“I’m doing it.”

“Fine, then do it.”

“Are you a tounger?”

“Tyson, what the hell.”

“Well, I don’t wanna put my tongue in your mouth if you don’t like it!”

(Y/N) sighed, laughing at her best friend. “Just kiss me!”

Tyson was freaking out. “OK, alright, great. That’s what I’m gonna do.” He grabbed her face, his fingers gracing her soft (Y/H/C) ever so lightly. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” (Y/N) replied, quietly.

Tyson closed his eyes, leaning in. (Y/N) pulled her head away, saying, “I’m sorry, you can’t do that!”

“What did I do?” Tyson asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Your face!”

“My face?”

“You can’t do that with your face.”

Tyson burst into laughter, (Y/N) soon following him. They stopped, glancing at each other for a brief moment. Tyson thought she was the prettiest girl in the world. He always had, ever since they met 10 years ago. Just as he was about to speak up, a banging ensued on the wall.

“Yo, I don’t hear any talking, so ya’ll better be smooching!” Dante screeched.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re getting to it.” Tyson said, not breaking eye contact with (Y/N).

The chants of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” picked back up again.

“Ok Tyson, come on. Just kiss me.” (Y/N) said, frustrated.

“No, I’m not gonna kiss you.”

“Kiss me!”

“(Y/N), stop!” Tyson said harshly.

“God, Jost, just kiss me already!”

“No, not like this!” he almost shouted.

(Y/N)’s face turned to one of confusion. “What? What does that mean?”

Tyson took a step back, his face turning red. “No I didn’t mean… Nothing, I just. I didn’t mean it like that. I just, we can’t. That’s not, you know, like,” He was full on word vomiting, “Do you know like, it’s very, like, you don’t, that’s not what it…”

(Y/N) tilted her head, a small smile on her face. Before she could say anything, the door swung open, revealing Jay, with an insane look on her face.

“Ok, times up! Mat and I’s turn.”

Tyson was gone faster than (Y/N) could see, leaving her with nothing but a sobered up head full of confusion, and a heavy heart.

Everyone had since retreated to their rooms for the night, except for Jay and Mat who were probably still making out in the kitchen like they usually do when they’re drunk. Her door slightly ajar, (Y/N) saw a quick shadow while she was brushing her hair.

“Hey!” she cried out. Tyson stopped in his own doorway, turning around to see (Y/N) in hers. She stood there in her silk nightgown, bare faced, with the look of concern painted across her face that she often gave him.

“You ok, Tys?” She asked softly, stepping out into the hallway just a bit.

“Yeah, Im good. Just needed to sober up a bit, so I went and sat down by the beach.”

“Oh. Ok. Listen, about earlier. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I was just messing around, feeding off our idiot friends.” (Y/N) apologized.

“S’ Ok, (Y/N/N). It was just a game. I still think you’re cool.”

“I think you’re cooler. Night, Tyson.” She replied with a smile.

“G’night, (Y/N).”

Just as she turned to go inside her room, something shifted within Tyson. Like he wasn’t even thinking, he reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her flush to him. Before either of them could speak, he pressed his lips onto hers, encapsulating them into a passionate kiss. His arms moved to her lower back, hugging her so forcefully as if it were to be the last time. (Y/N)’s arms were wrapped around his neck, tugging at the tufts of curls that lay at the back of his head. Their lips moved in harmony, Tyson kissing her again and again each time with more push than the last. They finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together and breathing heavily.

Tyson kissed her once more, than again, and again. He finally looked at her, his finger under her chin forcing her to look at him.

She was staring at him, her big beautiful (Y/E/C) that he loved so dearly, begging him to say something.

“I meant something like that.” Tyson told her, before dropping his hands from her figure and retreating into his room, and shutting the door.

(Y/N) stood there, in complete and utter shock. She brought her hand up to touch her lips, and let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

Tyson Jost was going to be the death of her, and she’d been hoping to see the Grim Reaper for quite a while.

tags: @comphyjost @tinyhockey @2manytabsopen @laurenairay @fallinallincurls @ilyasorokinn @lt-natrace

#emmie writes #winter fic exchange '23 #i hope you like it:)#tyson jost #tyson jost imagine #tyson jost x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nhl fic #hockey fic #buffalo sabres

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faulty-writes · 3 months

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[ Alright, hello followers/fans. Sorry for the delay of Chapter 5 of my Tensei Holiday Series. Life has been...well life. Will make an update post about that later. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this chapter. ]

[ Before the wedding takes place, your mind seems to drift back to the memories you and Tensei share. From the first time you met to the troubles, the two of you faced together. ]

Class 1-B was alive with hectic energy and chatter. You latched onto your lip and sank in your seat, trying to calm the uneasiness in your stomach. Luckily, your seat was in the corner of the classroom, away from everyone else. Still, you glanced at the other students.

Each one of them was beaming as they exchanged words and made friends with one another. Well except for you, although part of that was credited to your shy personality. Thinking back, you weren’t sure how you managed to pass the entrance exams.

Not that you weren’t grateful, you had always wanted to be a hero and who knows, maybe this would help you conquer your shy nature. Of course, thinking about what lay ahead of you caused you further distress and you began to feel a little nauseous.

You sighed and closed your eyes. That’s when you heard his voice for the first time, and it was that voice you’d end up following years after. “Hey,” you jumped, snapping your eyes open to see a young boy with dark blue spikey hair and unusual arrow-shaped eyebrows.

The next thing you noticed was his deep-burgundy-colored eyes behind the lenses of the thick square glasses he wore. He had a slender figure, and prominent arms that you assumed were from him working out.

He was wearing Yuuei’s standard school uniform, but you noticed the peculiar metal structures poking out from his elbows. While this piqued your curiosity, you assumed it was part of his quirk. “My name is Tensei Iida! Nice to meet you!” He said extending his hand out to you.

After staring suspiciously at said hand that you refused to shake, you scooted to one side of your chair, creating as much distance from him as you could. Yeah, maybe this was the reason you wouldn’t be making friends.

Then again, who suddenly walks up and introduces themselves like he did? Is that how people make friends? He blinked a few times, tilting his head to the side. “Oh, sorry. Not much for talking, that’s okay,” he said, helping himself to plop into the seat next to you.

“I’m sure I’ll find out your name sooner or later,” he noted, and the confident tone in his voice made you glare at him. How could he be this cheerful and optimistic? You watched as he scanned the classroom before turning back to you. “I think we’ll do great things this year,” he said, adjusting his glasses.

“Even if we’re not heroes yet, I know I’m going to do my best. After all, I have to set a good example for my baby brother,” you raised your eyebrow, why was he telling you all of this? “You wanna see a picture of him?” He asked with a large grin.

Before you could reply he was already reaching into his pocket for his phone. After unlocking it, he presented you with a picture of a baby wrapped in a blue blanket. Like him, there was a tuft of dark blue hair protruding from the top of the baby’s head.

Tensei chuckled. “I’m still getting used to being a big brother,” he commented, rubbing the back of his head. “But like I said, I’ll set the best example I can for him. That’s why I’m waiting until after I become a Pro Hero to have my eyes fixed,” you knitted your eyebrows.

“W-what?” you asked, feeling heat rush over your face. Damn it, you hated talking to others. He smiled when he noticed the red-tinted hue of your cheeks and leaned forward, fiddling with his glasses. “When I become a Pro Hero, I’ll get surgery to fix my eyes,” he repeated confidently.

His glasses? Is that the most important thing to him after he becomes a Pro Hero? “Since my quirk gives me turbo speed, I wouldn’t want my glasses to fly off and impair my vision, especially when people need saving!” He announced, a little too loudly for your liking.

You glanced away, partly wondering what was wrong with him. Still, you could think of worse ways to start the first day of school, and while you assumed that as the year went on, Tensei would stop his pursuit of being your friend. This did not happen, and you were almost grateful that he continued to chase you.

His open-minded nature and courageous attitude rubbed off on you, and by your second year, the two of you were close, or as close as you felt comfortable with. Much to your surprise, you found that Tensei had a unique idea regarding how he wanted to run his future agency and who he wished to employ under it.

However, you didn’t outwardly show your support until he began to get ridiculed by others. It started the day a student named Shota Aizawa from the General Studies Department transferred into Class 2-A. There were severe doubts regarding his capability as a hero student, and other students made fun of him.

This didn’t sit right with Tensei, Nemuri, or yourself. ‘Come on! You know Aizawa doesn’t have a chance in hell of becoming a hero!’ Those words caused you to grumble and curl your hands around the edge of the roof that overlooked the front of the school.

It was amazing that they allowed students permission to spend time on the roof, but it became a frequent hang-out location for Tensei, Nemuri, and yourself. You also heard that Shota, Hizashi, and Oboro spent a fair time here.

Unfortunately, there were also lesser hero students who enjoyed spending their time there. “Uh, can you believe them?” You said, looking at Nemuri. Despite her being your upperclassman, she had a wonderful slightly over-sexualized personality. But even so, she was honest and wasn’t afraid to jump into action when it was called for.

“Yes, I suppose that’s rather hasty. They’re certainly being bad boys talking about Aizawa like that,” she purred, making you sigh in response. “What?” She replied, placing her hands on her hips. Unlike her usual hero attire, she was not showing much skin today.

That was partly due to the standard Yuuei uniform that students were required to wear during school hours, although she had a good majority of buttons undone which exposed her chest. Tensei laid his hand on your shoulder. “Hm?” You looked at him and that smile he offered.

“I don’t like it any more than you, and people who put down others aren’t cool in my book. But I have the confidence that Aizawa will become a great hero!” He exclaimed, trying to lift your spirits. Instead, his words were greeted with a bellow of laughter.

Tensei, as you had come to know, didn’t exactly have the quietest voice, and what he had just exclaimed to the world was heard loud and clear by every student occupying the rooftop. “Pff, you really think that, huh?” Sensoji, also known as Mister Blaster, asked as he approached Tensei.

He was a large, bulky student with defined muscles and wide shoulders. His face wasn’t much to look at, but he had sharp eyes to match his pointy nose and lack of eyebrows. He sported a short haircut with visible sideburns and like Hizashi, kept the front of his hair swooped up.

He smirked at Tensei, and his gaze slowly drifted to you. When Tensei noticed this, he cautiously put his arm in front of you as if he were afraid that Sensoji would try something to harm you. Then again, Sensoji had a reputation for being a bully to the other students.

You heard rumors he mainly picked fights with Hizashi, Oboro, and Shota whom Nemuri frequently hung out with. “Aizawa has as much of a chance of becoming a hero as you do with that stupid agency idea of yours!” Sensoji declared, rapidly poking Tensei in the forehead.

You growled when you heard those words while Tensei crossed his arms. Nemuri kept her hands on her hips, deciding it was better to watch the spectacle and only intervene if the situation called for it. “His idea isn’t stupid!” You said, surprising everyone when you stepped around Tensei and glared at Sensoji.

“His idea shows that he’ll be a Pro Hero who looks at everyone equally instead of a self-centered one like you!” Each word was accompanied by your finger jabbing into his chest and he looked bewildered at your actions. “Why you!” He growled and curled his biceps.

His teeth ground together, and his palms heated up in anticipation of using his quirk. However, he was momentarily distracted when Tensei activated his quirk, the engines that promptly stuck out of his elbows bursting to life with a loud mechanical whirling and Nemuri took this opportunity to rip off her blazer.

Luckily, she was wearing a white, short-sleeved shirt underneath. Before you had the chance to comprehend what she was doing, she quickly moved behind Sensoji and grabbed his head. She leaned over and purred, “Don’t be a bad little boy,” into his ear before activating her quirk.

A pink, somewhat glittery substance filled the air, and you immediately covered your nose and mouth. You knew that Nemuri’s quirk induced sleep and you weren’t about to pass out on the roof. But that’s when you were swept off your feet, literally, by none other than Tensei.

He looked at you, a determined shine glistening in his eyes and a smirk across his face. “Come on, let’s get you out of here. Kayama can handle this,” he stated and with you securely cradled in his arms, he stepped over the edge of the roof.

You screamed out when the two of you plummeted and Tensei’s glasses flew off his face. He clenched his jaw, and a hint of fear enveloped his face. ‘Dang it, guess I’ll have to judge the landing myself.’ His grip on you tightened. ‘There’s no way I’m letting Y/n get hurt by anyone.’

A rush of adrenaline coursed through him the nearer he got to the ground and the wind rapidly swirled around you as he, yet again, used his quirk. ‘Hopefully, this will slow us down.’ While it cushioned the impact the two of you had on the ground, you also rolled a few times before finally coming to a stop.

Your vision was spinning, and a small wave of nausea overwhelmed you resulting in you pressing your head against his chest. After a few moments of silence, you opened your eyes again and looked at Tensei. “Why...why did you do that?” You asked flatly only to hear him chuckle in response.

“Well, I thought you were in danger so,” his words were greeted with a sigh. “You’re reckless…” you said, only imagining the stupid situations he’d put himself into when he became a Pro Hero. He seemed to ignore your insult and sat on his knees, looking at you, or at least the blurry image of you since his glasses flew off his face.

Guess he’d have to look for them later. “Do you really think my idea is amazing? An agency run by sidekicks?” He asked, catching you off-guard. “Uh…well I…” you paused and rubbed the back of your head. ‘Damn…I did say that didn’t I?’ Great, how would you explain your way out of this?

“Well, it’s…” you paused, glancing away. “Unique and certainly…you,” he grinned. “I’m glad you think so! Maybe you can be part of my agency, who knows? Maybe you’ll be the leader of it someday!” His words made you laugh. As if you’d want to be the leader of an agency. You’d rather play the role of a sidekick.

Little did you know what fate had in store years later, but this memory was far from your mind as you raced down the hallway of the hospital. Your heart beating erratically, and your face is covered in sweat. Not to mention the frantic thoughts flowing through your head like a rapid river.

Your feet scraped across the floor when you saw his mother pacing back and forth just outside a hospital room, the same room Tensei was in. Your pants filled the air when you stopped in front of her, leaning over with your hands grasping your knees.

She looked at you with concern and slowly reached out but flinched when you leaned back up, startling her. Your face contorted with anger and worry. “Where is he!? Is he alright!?” Your words came out fast and panicked.

“Oh, Y/n...he’s…” she hesitated, unsure of what to tell you and considering you were Tensei’s closest…well, friend, although she wished your relationship with him was more...romantic, she was terrified that she might lose her son.

Furthermore, she was concerned that seeing him in his current state may be more than you could handle now. You grabbed her shoulders without thinking. “I need to see him!” She frowned, but like Tenya she knew that you wouldn’t be satisfied until you got what you wanted.

“He’s through that door but-” Without another word, you rushed past her ignoring the way she shouted, “You forgot your mask!” You frantically slide open the door only to have your breath stolen from you when your eyes lay upon Tensei.

He was in the hospital bed. His head was shaved and wrapped tightly in bandages. A plastic tube surrounded the sides of his face, and two points were inserted into his nostrils. His upper torso was exposed, and a large bandage was placed across his abdomen, and the corners of it were secured with medical tape.

There were several small adhesive pads along his exposed skin which you quickly assumed were connected to the heart monitor which filled the room with a steady beep every second. A single white sheet covered the rest of his body.

Your hands clamped over your mouth, you felt your hair stand on end, and your body stiffened as your eyes watered over with hot tears. A wave of nausea soon came when the weight of the severity of the situation came crashing down on you.

You knew you had to do something, but what the hell could you even do? You were frozen in place, unable to bring yourself to move until you heard his raspy, slightly disgruntled voice. “Y/n?” the sound of it made you sob, and you dropped your hands, running to the side of his bed and grasping onto the bedside railing.

“Tensei!” You exclaimed, tears still falling down your face and onto his exposed torso. He groaned and looked at you. His eyes were dull, and his face contorted in such a way that you knew he was in pain. Despite this, he tried to smile.

“I’m…glad to see you…” he said, and you swallowed hard, wiping your nose before latching onto your lip to prevent yourself from sobbing again. You wished you could say the same, but unfortunately, you couldn’t. Your grip tightened so much around the railing that your knuckles turned white.

He noticed this and just like his brother Tenya, knew that you were in a distressed state of being…and it was his fault. He also knew that just like what he had asked his brother, you wouldn’t react all that pleasantly to his request.

He took a deep breath, despite the agony that coursed through his body from his abdomen muscles straining to make his chest rise. “I…need to tell you…something,” his voice was gentle as if he were trying to calm you down.

It didn’t work. The tears streaming down your face only continued as did the way your heart pounded in your chest. Regardless, you gave him your full attention. “I…can’t feel my…legs,” he stated, and it felt as though a bolt of lightning struck you.

“W-what?” you managed to squeak out, your heart sinking in your chest. Guilt weighing it down. Damn it, you knew you should have helped Tensei patrol. You insisted even! ‘The Hero Killer is too dangerous to track down on your own!’ you told him.

But he just gave you that damned reassuring smile and said ‘Don’t worry, I have faith in my team members. If anything goes wrong, they’ll come in and help apprehend the Hero Killer.’ You shouldn’t have let those words convince you to leave his side.

Looking at the result of your decision, you’d gladly take Tensei’s place if you could. In fact, maybe you should have been the one...you paused and shook your head. Now wasn’t the time to blame yourself. He took a deep breath, coughing slightly.

“Tensei!” You cried out, but his coughing subsided a few seconds later. “I’m...fine,” he said before you leaned away, wiping your already irritated eyes. “I told…Tenya to take…my hero name,” if reality wasn’t bearing down on you hard enough before, it certainly was now.

“W-what?” you repeated, shaking your head. “No…no, I’m sure your legs…you’ll be…you have to be okay!” You frantically shouted, your voice echoing through the empty room over the sound of the repetitive beating from the heart monitor. “Y/n,” he said, placing his shaky hand on one side of your face.

Your cheek felt warm and wet underneath his palm and his heart sank when you looked at him with those still watery eyes full of pain and confusion. “I…want you…to be the new leader…” he paused taking another breath, “of the…Team I...Idaten.” You let out a weak sob and shook your head.

“No…no I c-can’t do that I…” You latched onto your lip, letting out another sob. Once again tears began to flow down your cheeks and over his hand that he refused to pull away. Instead, he stroked his thumb against your skin, collecting those hot teardrops.

“Yes…you can…” he replied, and although you wouldn’t normally argue with an injured person. You couldn’t help yourself, there were too many emotions flowing through you now. “No…” you repeated, hitching your breath, and making a pathetic squeak sound. You reached up, grasping his hand.

“D-don’t make me…” You clenched your jaw. “Damn it Tensei!” you shouted, “I don’t want this!” You couldn’t replace him; nobody could replace him. You didn’t want this burden on your shoulders, you weren’t meant to be a leader!

You were meant to be a follower, a sidekick! Nothing more than that! Why did Tensei…why did he believe in your abilities when there were none? You sobbed again, looking down at him with pleading eyes and when he noticed this, he smiled.

“You will be…a great leader…” he encouraged, and at the end of the day, despite your constant insistence that you couldn’t be the leader of Team Idaten, you knew you didn’t have a choice. It was rough at first, your team members questioned your choices and the strength of your character.

Some even volunteered to take over as leader, but you remained strong because while you didn’t want to be the leader, this was Tensei’s dream, and you couldn’t let it die. And you never did. Your breath hitched, and your eyes widened when you realized hot tears were streaming down your face.

You looked at your reflection, ignoring the floral white flowers and delicate banners that streamed along the wall behind you. You watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest before the door opened. The hinges squeaked and echoed through the room, creating a short-lived tension.

You blinked, allowing the last of your tears to fall down your cheeks before you turned, seeing Mrs. Iida standing in the doorway. As expected, she was wearing a tasteful and elegant outfit that consisted of a floor-length navy blue gown with long sleeves adorned with lace.

It hugged her figure tightly and shimmered in the light of the room. The fabric that pooled around her feet flowed gracefully when she walked, giving a regal touch to her appearance. On her feet were navy-colored peep-toe shoes with small heels.

The pearl earrings she wore hung delicately from her ears and kissed the sides of her cheeks. She wore rosy lipstick that made her smile stand out and a small amount of eyeshadow that made her eyes pop. She quickly crossed the room and placed her hand on the back of the chair you were sitting in.

The smile that was on her face immediately faded when she noted the irritated look of your eyes and the moist layer your tears had left behind on your face. “Is something troubling you?” She asked, pulling out a handkerchief and handing it to you.

Today was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, but it looked like you were crying. Your eyes widened. “O-oh no, it's alright!” you assured her, taking the handkerchief and wiping your face dry. “I just…” you looked down, rubbing the side of your neck.

“I was thinking about the past,” you chuckled, and Mrs. Iida looked at you suspiciously. She was determined that this wedding would go as planned, heaven knows she had been waiting long enough for it to happen. So, she attempted to de-escalate the situation and gently laid her hands on your shoulders.

“Now isn’t the time for that,” she said gently before leaning down and looking at the reflection of you and her in the mirror. “Tensei is waiting,” she whispered into your ear, causing your stomach to explode with butterflies. A few seconds of silence passed, and a dreamy, almost void look filled your eyes.

“Yeah,” you replied, feeling a smile come to your face. “He’s always been waiting for me, hasn’t he?” You chuckled and placed your hands on the table in front of you, using it to help you stand up. You then made your way to the door, knowing that in a few minutes, your life will be changed forever.

It was nerve-wracking but amazing to think about. Taking a deep breath, you turned to look at Mrs. Iida who was absolutely beaming, smiling as if you were the answer she had been looking for her whole life. You took a deep breath and turned back to face the door. “I’m ready.”

#tensei iida x reader #iida x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #iida x y/n #iida x you #faulty writes: tensei iida: 24 #faulty writes: tensei iida: holiday series: 23

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grizzersmamma · 1 year

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Beyond the Loch | Monster CoD AU | Chapter 2.

Summary: “With monsters now being used the world over to wage war, the military is desperate to encourage non-human citizens to join their ranks. A young kelpie, John ‘Soap’ MacTavish, is invited to join the infamous Task Force 141, the first task force in history to be headed up by a monster. Soon after joining, he encounters a black dog, an omen of death known only as Ghost. Determined to prove that not all black dogs are harbingers of disaster and misfortune, he decides to become Ghost’s field partner, becoming close to the spirit while everyone else flees from him terror. Only time can tell if he’ll come to regret it or not.”

Notes: Decided to create my own CoD Monster AU! I’ve seen loads of different AUs, but this will be my own personal take on what creatures the different characters would be.

Pairing(s): Future Ghost/Soap. Other to be added.

Warnings: Unedited because I’m tired ;w;.

Series Masterlist

Previous: Chapter 1.

Next: Chapter 3.

After a quick meal, some fresh meat for the first time in months, and getting settled into the tiny room he’ll be calling home from now on, Soap decides to return to the lake Captain Price had shown him beforehand. Seeing as it’s the very first day on base, he isn’t required to perform any actual duties – those will begin first thing the next morning – so for now he has a small amount of free time.

The cold water of the manmade lake is an absolute blessing for Soap’s skin, washing away the uncomfortably dry feeling that has been plaguing him for months. He dips his head under the water, letting out a content sigh through the gills that have formed along his neck. He hasn’t fully shifted yet, happy enough to simply laze about below the surface.

Large fish dart around him in an excited dance, unused to visitors in their domain. It would be easy to catch one, but Soap isn’t yet hungry enough to expend that much energy on a hunt. Instead, he toys with them, wiggling his fingers to draw them closer before running a hand along their smooth scales when they’re close enough to touch. Some of them dart away the moment he makes contact with them, while others are curious enough to allow his gentle caress.

Such friendly little animals. What a shame they also happen to taste so good.

When he breaches the surface again, Soap can see a lone figure sitting at the edge of the small wooden dock, legs dangling just above the water. It’s a peaceful spot, with only the wind blowing through the reeds and the gentle calls of waterfowl to be heard as dragonflies flutter from lily pad to lily pad. There have been no other people coming to the lake, save for Soap himself, so the area feels almost untouched and creates the perfect place to hide away from the rest of the base.

Pressing his legs together, Soap feels the familiar sensation of the muscles knitting together until he’s left with a lengthy tail in their place. He doesn’t bother with shifting his upper body, only requiring the tail to gently propel himself across the surface of the water and toward the dock.

When he reaches the old, wooden structure, he uses his tail to push up off of the bed of the lake and out of the water. With how shallow the water is around the dock, he’s easily able to drag his upper body onto the wood, coming to rest just beside the other monster. He looks up into the white skull mask of Ghost, offering a bright grin.

“Afternoon, L.T,” he chirps, smile becoming a little toothy as he decides to add, teasingly, “fine day fer a swim, water’s just right.” Soap hopes that the anxious twitch of his tail is the only tell of just how nervous he is to be pinned under Ghost’s calculating stare.

“I’ll pass,” the man grunts, finally, blessedly, shifting his eyes from Soap and returning them to the book he was reading previously, “not particularly in the mood to be drowned by my own sergeant on only day one.”

Soap lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching at imaginary pearls in feigned horror, “ye think so lowly of me, sir?” He sniffles, pretending to wipe away a tear in his heartbreak. “Well, ah dinnae ken if ye realise this, but ye cannae drown a ghost,” he says, as if imparting some great wisdom upon the other monster.

“Perhaps, but you’d get my fur all wet, then I’d stink of bloody pond water,” Ghost grumbles, turning a page.

It’s a battle to keep from outright snickering at the response, “tha big ol’ scary Ghost, scared o’ a wee bit of pond water.”

He receives a foul squint for his efforts at humour. “That’ll do, MacTavish,” the monster growls, once more returning to his book.

Soap snorts, but falls quiet, resting on his elbows as his tail slowly swishes back and forth. Unfortunately, the Scot has never been very good at keeping his mouth shut, and after only a short moment, is piping up again. “So, ye clearly ken a wee bit about kelpies, ye know much else?”

Ghost hums in thought as he continues to browse the pages before him, “not much,” he says eventually, “you’re supposed to be some sort of horse monster that tends to drown people.”

The kelpie slowly nods, scratching at the small layer of stubble attempting to grow over his jaw, “suppose tha’ just about sums it up, aye.” He pulls himself a little further out of the water, showing how his hips turn into a long tail rather than a pair of legs. He flexes the powerful appendage, letting droplets of water rolls off of it and back into the lake.

Soap doesn’t look up from where he’s watching the water, but he can feel Ghost’s eyes slowly roving over his body, unconcerned by the other man’s rather stark nakedness. “Y’know, it’s also a well-known fact tha’ us kelpies only ever take a human form tha’s strikin’ly handsome,” he grins, playfully raising an eyebrow as he glances at the black dog again.

The lieutenant’s eyes snap back up from where they had been observing Soap, brows immediately furrowing in annoyance, followed by a dramatic eyeroll. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, sergeant,” Ghost grunts.

“Am tellin’ ye the truth, L.T!” he laughs, “how d’ ye think we get all those bonnie lasses te come into the water with us?”

With a surprising amount of strength, Ghost lifts one of his legs up from where it’s hanging over the edge and uses it to shove Soap off of the dock and back into the water. “Clearly that trait skipped a generation,” he growls when the kelpie’s head pops back out of the water again before he cracks open his book again, evidently done with the conversation.

Soap laughs to himself at the lieutenant’s response but knows better than to push much further. No doubt the other man has very little downtime, so he’s not going to force his way into Ghost’s personal time when he was very clearly here to unwind alone.

Their brief conversation was enough to satiate Soap’s need for interaction anyway, so he’s more than happy to retreat back into deeper waters with a flick of his tail. He spends a good while stretching out muscles that haven’t been used in months, leaping from the water with the occasional dramatic twist, before diving back down again. Even after Ghost eventually leaves, he continues working, revelling in the pleasant way his body burns from exertion.

By the time he’s dragging himself out of the water the sun has just finished setting and no doubt the mess hall will be serving dinner soon. His legs are a little all over the place when he attempts to use them for the first time since climbing back onto dry land again, but he’s able to stagger over to where he’d previously abandoned his clothes.

The advantage of a base with a multitude of monsters is that there’s very little concern for nudity, considering the majority of them need to shed their clothes in order to change their form in any way. Any adjustments needed to someone’s fit have to be carried out by the wearer as the military would only supply the basics.

Thankfully, Soap was fortunate enough that he could wear regular human clothes, so he grabs his shirt, jeans and finally his boots. He doesn’t have a towel to completely dry off, but it isn’t too cold just yet, so Soap elects to throw on his clothes and drip dry.

After making himself somewhat presentable, Soap makes his way to the mess hall. It’s already bustling with a mixture of humans and monsters. It still feels so surreal to be seeing so many people comfortable with showing off their more inhuman traits around others and it gives him that warm, tingling sensation he always gets whenever he encounters a fellow monster.

He selects a piece of raw steak, practically drooling over it despite knowing it’s likely been in the freezer for who-knows-how-long. Searching the room briefly, his eyes land on a familiar face and he’s quick to head in their direction, placing his tray down beside the other man before plopping down beside him.

“Evening, Gaz,” he grins, grabbing his steak and taking a large chomp out of it.

The other sergeant offers a hum of acknowledgement while he’s sipping from his mug. “Enjoying dinner?” the vampire asks, placing his drink down with a slight cringe.

Soap visibly shivers at the sensation of raw meat between his teeth and the harsh metallic taste of blood flooding his tastebuds. “Mhm,” he hums, swallowing down the whole chunk of flesh, unbothered with chewing, “how’s breakfast?”

Gaz grumbles, sliding his drink slightly away from him, “still not used to drinking this stuff instead of eating, it doesn’t exactly taste that great.”

“Is it human, or...?” He’s always heard that vampires naturally enjoy the taste of human blood – some people tasting better than others – so it’s a little odd for Gaz to find it repulsive.

Gaz shakes his head, grabbing the mug again and forcing down another mouthful of the crimson liquid, “no, pretty sure it’s pig blood or something.” He swirls the blood around in his mug, watching as it laps dangerously at the edges of the cup, “it’s easier to get a hold of and doesn’t take away from people that actually need it for a medical reason,” he continues.

“Does animal blood work the same?” Soap is genuinely curious. He’s never really thought too much into how vampires work, but if he’s going to be working alongside Gaz then no doubt, he’ll need more than just a cursory knowledge.

“To a degree, it gives me the energy I need, but I need to drink it more often than if it was fresh from a human.”

Soap hums again at that, going back to tearing his own meal to pieces. He’s been a kelpie his entire life, so it’s difficult to wrap his mind around the concept of being new to the life of a monster. He imagines it must be like suddenly changing into a completely different kind of monster, with different needs, instincts and abilities.

To have to unlearn a lifetime worth of behaviour and begin again almost completely from scratch must be a struggle to say the least. Like a kelpie foal, trying to run on wobbly legs they aren’t yet used to. Occasionally, they’ll lose their balance and fall, but their dam will always be there to help them back up to their feet again. He can’t help wondering if Gaz has anyone to help him.

He’s younger than Soap, perhaps by a fair amount considering how slow kelpies age, and seeing him in the evening it’s clear the other monster is bright and friendly. His brown eyes are still soft and full of life despite him now technically being undead, the little flicker of scarlet across his irises whenever they shift being the only indication of his true nature.

“It’s good to properly meet ye, Gaz,” he starts, drawing the man’s attention back to him again from where it had wandered during their brief silence, “I know ye weren’t exactly in the best state when we came to see ye earlier.”

Gaz snorts at that, shaking his head slightly, “was my fault for falling asleep in the rec room rather than my actual bed. Cap keeps telling me not to just pass out wherever I happen to be when the sun comes up,” he chuckles, scratching at the back of his neck sheepishly. “But it’s good to meet you too, Soap,” he smiles, offering a hand which Soap is quick to take, shaking it firmly, “glad I didn’t scare you off with my grumpiness earlier.”

Soap merely tsks, “Ah’m sure it’s won’t be the last time a pillow gets thrown at me face, certainly no’ the first time it’s happened,” he smirks, devolving into a fit of childish snickering alongside Gaz.

“It’s a regular occurrence for you then?” Gaz looks downright gleeful at this development.

Soap sniffs, tilting his chin up slightly, “ah’m not gonna dignify tha’ with an answer.”

He’s able to keep a serious face for all of about five seconds, before a snort escapes Gaz and the two of them proceed to burst out laughing. A few odd looks are levelled in their direction from the other people still in the mess hall, but both are too distracted to care. It feels good to have someone to be a little less serious with, not needing to worry about remaining professional like he would if interacting with a superior or subordinate.

He’s relieved that Gaz appears to be so light-hearted despite what he must have been through, and it’s remarkably easy for them both to fall into conversation, acting like old friends who have known one another for years. It’s only after they’ve been gossiping for several hours that Soap finally drags himself away from his fellow sergeant and in the direction of his bunk.

He’s going to need plenty of sleep if he hopes to be at his best the following morning, but he takes a moment to enjoy the frigid evening on his way there. The stars are a little difficult to see with the intense lights flooding the base and the moon is obscured by the moon, but the weather is pleasant enough, if a tad icy.

He’s about to open the door to the barracks where his room is housed when something in the distance catches his eyes. He glances off into the darkness, eyes momentarily struggling to pick anything out against the backdrop of trees and long grass. When he finally spots what had drawn his attention, he can feel a shiver run down his spine, unsure if the feeling is from excitement or fear.

A large canine looks back at him through familiar red eyes, glowing brightly in the night and illuminating the sharp features around them. Similar in shape to an alsatian, with pointed ears swivelling around at even the slightest of sounds and a rough, shaggy coat all over. He stands just taller than a fully grown bull, with broad shoulders and a lengthier body.

The Ghost stares back at him for what feels like decades, before he turns away disinterested and trots off into the tree line, seemingly vanishing into thin air. Even with Soap’s advanced hearing, he couldn’t hear Ghost’s movements, very much playing into his callsign.

He can see why people are intimidated by the creature, slinking through the darkness with only a pair of creepy eyes to give away his position. But there’s a small part of him that can’t wait to see that dangerous beast let loose on the battlefield, tearing through their enemies with sharp claws and deadly teeth.

A second thrill passes through him at the thought alone.

#writing #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghost x soap #monster au #kelpies #vampires #ghosts #black dogs and water horses

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