#grandpas in the span of just a few months
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sitting in my grandpa's living room with my cousins eating baby biscuits and drinking pear juice. this is the food we bought for him in his last days because he didn't want to eat any food and those biscuits were the only thing he could eat. it feels very bittersweet to be here while he's not, he was here just three days ago. also we noticed that the two small birds he used to feed in front of his house still showed up even though he couldn't walk and give them bread crumbs anymore.
#he lived in front of a kindergarten and they brought a small note written by the kids there#because he'd always stand in front of his door and watch the kids and teachers go by so they were very familiar with him#a lot of people visited to say they're gonna miss him and that he always smiled at them when they walked by#i am gonna miss his stories too i would listen even if he said the same thing a thousand times#and i cried so much at the funeral function because i can't believe i lost both my#grandpas in the span of just a few months#it's so saddening :(
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Yandere Zoro, Mihawk, Aokiji, Akinu, Rob Lucci and Shanks with F!Yoriichi Reader please? (Garp found her right after she ran away from home and took her in as his Granddaughter, where she grew up and bonded with her brothers Luffy, Ace and Sabo)
Garp brought her with him to become a Marine (She raised in the ranks rapidly and became a Vice Admiral in just a short span of 2 months, with her being considered a ‘Prodigy’ and even the ‘Pride’ of the Marines)
Garp is so proud of Reader because she raised in the ranks from her own hard work and effort, just like her Grandpa! (He would absolutely fist fight anyone who thinks she used her family relationship with Garp to raise so quickly in the ranks)
Sengoku was reasonably horrified when Garp brought one of his family members to become a Marine (He felt grey hairs take root on the thought of a ‘Garp 2.0’) though Sengoku did a double take when he met Reader since she’s… the complete OPPOSITE of Garp (As in, she’s respectful, responsible, calm and willing to get her work done)
Reader is highly respected and admired by a lot of the Marines, since she’s not just strong, but humble and helpful to everyone, even if they’re below her in rank and power (She definitely has a few Fan Clubs) but it’s Coby and Tashigi who admire her the most and have a tendency to chatter around her constantly (Which they get yelled at by others to not ‘disturb’ Reader, but she tells them it’s fine and she likes hearing them talk to her)
Garp and Reader get along, as Reader doesn’t mind her Grandfather being loud, silly or eccentric and Garp doesn’t mind if Reader doesn’t talk much nor is she expressive with her emotions, since he can always tell what she’s feeling (Though he’s protective over her, especially when it’s obvious a lot of guys are in love with her, he’s NOT having it!!)
She started a fight with Lucci (She was angry at his disregard for Human Life) and proceeded to beat him without him landing a single scratch on her
She also got in a fight with Mihawk (He wanted to see her skills in person) and it ended in a draw (He’s impressed and wants to fight her again)
-When you found yourself in a new world, one where the sea was the focus of everything, marines and pirates fighting each other at every turn, you weren’t sure what you were going to do- knowing nothing about this world.
-Being a child, you didn’t know where to go, but luckily, there was someone watching out for you, Garp- who immediately adopted you, seeing you, a child, alone.
-You grew up alongside Luffy, Ace, and Sabo, the three of them adopting you as their sister, but like those three, who wanted to be pirates, you liked the idea of being a marine, like Garp, like the man who saved you.
-Garp, of course, quickly deemed you as the favorite, and he brought you in as a new recruit once you were old enough.
-To others, the training boot camp was hellish, but you made everything look so easy! Anything you did you made it look effortless and once you had a sword in your hands, it was like everything clicked together and you quickly rose in not only power but rank.
-Everyone was stunned, seeing how hard you were working and how quickly you rose in the ranks, seeing it was hard work, as when everyone found out that you were Garp’s granddaughter, a few were curious, wanting to know if it was nepotism, but Garp was quick to punch out anyone who would even suggest that!
-How dare they think his grandbaby is a nepo-baby! You did everything yourself, proving yourself as a true marine and many were quickly admiring you.
-You had heard rumors, but you didn’t know if they were true or not, that there was at least three different fan clubs for you, with one of them being pirate based, as they loved to see you in combat, many saying that they wouldn’t mind being captured if you were the one to do it.
-When you achieved the highest rank you could, at the moment, becoming a rear admiral in just under six months, there were a lot of people talking about you, curious about your strength and skills, wanting to test them out.
-Sengoku was less than thrilled, hearing that a grandchild of Garp had joined the marines, his hair immediately starting to turn gray from the stress, thinking that you were just like he was.
-When you entered Sengoku’s office alongside Garp, he instantly froze, you looked so serious! It was like you were the exact opposite of Garp and he immediately took a shine to you, seeing that you were a hard worker and took your duties seriously- you were an angel on earth to him!!
-You preferred to work alone or with Garp, as you felt like others slowed you down, so if you went out on a ship, it was Garp’s ship, otherwise you would travel alone on a Wave Rider.
-Many thought your level-headed coolness paired with your soft-spoken nature and take-no-shit attitude was very attractive, and most men would melt if you would scold or talk down to them, marine or pirate.
-You were a little dense, unsure of why they liked your cold personality, Garp knew however, and he was ready to make heads roll to protect his favorite grandchild, even when you could defend yourself.
-Aokiji and Akinu both liked you, finding you to be the perfect woman, Akinu because you followed orders, were a hell of a swordswoman, but still had a heart of gold, while Aokiji was part of one of your fan clubs, loving your cold nature paired with your attractive looks. Aokiji constantly flirted with you, and he adored it that you didn’t seem to realize it half the time.
-Lucci is another one who liked you, however, unlike the two admirals, whom you didn’t mind, you didn’t like Lucci- you found him too brutal. When you fought, you always fought to end the fight as quickly as possible, not dragging out the suffering of others like Lucci.
-Lucci found you very desirable, finding you strong, worthy to be by his side and him by your side, he just didn’t understand why you were so cold to him, colder than normal.
-You told him that you didn’t like how he fought, bringing others so much unnecessary pain, but to him, he was just stamping out those who weren’t worthy- those who were weak.
-Between doing paperwork, going out with Garp, and capturing pirates, you did have one little habit, one that Garp turned a blind eye too- you loved to fight against strong opponents.
-You would sneak away, when you didn’t have any missions or paperwork, and seek out strong warriors, to test your own strength against them. You only arrested them if you were able to beat them, but if they were able hold their own against you- you would just leave.
-This little hobby of yours, however, has gained you a few more admirers, as they all loved seeing how strong you were.
-Zoro was a frequent opponent, as it gave you the excuse to visit Luffy, who, unlike when Garp would visit, he would run over to you and hug you close, much to the anger of Sanji and Brook, seeing Luffy hug such a vision of a woman.
-After seeing your brother, you would always fight Zoro to a draw, him using his own skills and training from Mihawk and you with your natural talent and Sun Breathing.
-Afterwards you would always stay for dinner, much to the glee of Sanji who would flirt with you and Zoro would always get into a fight with him- more brutal than normal. Nami and Robin couldn’t help but think it was cute to see Zoro being so jealous.
-The reason you were able to fight Zoro to a draw every time is because you fought Mihawk quite often, something he welcomed as you were the only person that could challenge him.
-You always wrote ahead, sending a bottle of wine with your challenge and he would always meet you by the docks to escort you, being a gentleman.
-At first, Mihawk would always best you- being insanely strong, but as you grew in strength, learning from your fights, you were soon fighting him to a draw nine times out of ten, something he loved- encouraging you- he wanted you to beat him.
-After the fight, Mihawk would always invite you to share the wine you had sent, taking you to the gardens he had been carefully tended to, filling them with beautiful flowers, as he had seen you admiring flowers, and he loved to see you looking so happy, if it’s looking at flowers and enjoying wine with him or fighting him, you always looked so beautiful with a smile on your lips- he just wanted you to smile for him and only him.
-The last person you sought out quite often was Shanks- after you realized that he was insanely strong, despite only having one arm.
-Shanks was shameless with his flirting with you- flirting even while the two of you were fighting each other, but he wouldn’t beat around the bush, like some of the others who would flirt with you- he was very up front about it, and seeing your red cheeks, seeing you embarrassed- brought him joy every single time.
-After your fight he would always invite you to drink and celebrate with his crew, sometimes you would accept, and you learned that he was a lightweight, but loved to drink, and you found it amusing that he still talked so much game before passing out, something Benn loved giving him crap for.
-It was unusual, being chased after by so many men, marines, government officials, and pirates, and they all wanted you for themselves, finding you the perfect partner- you were everything to them and they wanted to be your everything.
-Too bad you weren’t really interested in a relationship at the moment- you just wanted to fight strong people and see more of the world and occasionally see your brothers.
-When Garp found out how many people were vying for your affections- grandpa wasn’t happy and he was ready to make some heads roll to keep his only precious granddaughter safe.
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Don't Be A Stranger
Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Battinson) x gn!Reader
Word Count/Rating: 4.7k // PG-13
Warnings: references to canon-typical violence/injury
Summary: There's no mistaking that silhouette. It's him in your living room. The Batman.
It was pure chance. Anyone in Ms. Atwood's fourth grade class could have ended up with him as their pen pal. You're not sure you believe that the stars aligned just right or that fate was on your side anymore than it being a true, one-in-a-million fluke. Still, you're the one who ended up with Bruce Wayne as their pen pal.
You didn't know it was him at first. You were only given his first name and a non-descript address. The PO box didn't exactly scream the prince of Gotham. Sometimes you wonder if you would have treated him differently if you had known. There's a good chance you would have.
As young as you were, no one could forget the bold, block letters of the Gotham Gazette from early that September. THOMAS AND MARTHA WAYNE DEAD. The editor didn't even attempt to give it any flair. It was shocking enough on its own.
Your father had been devastated, a large supporter of Thomas Wayne's mayoral campaign. Your mother had regarded Martha as a style icon, in shambles over losing her favorite inspiration. You remember reading the byline about young Bruce surviving the ordeal, trying to comprehend what it would mean to suddenly no longer have parents.
It was news that rocked the entire city and the very next day it's all your classmates could talk about. Robbie Carter said his grandpa thought it was all a conspiracy, Monica Gibbs told you her dad was one of the first officers on the scene and that blood had been everywhere, and Avery Parker told everyone to shut up. You were glad Avery did, as the discussion had been making you start to feel queasy.
A few months later though, when your pen pal was assigned, the name Bruce didn't really click. After all, why would Bruce Wayne of all children be writing to someone in the Gotham Public School system?
Blissfully unaware of your pen pal's true identity, you wrote to him like you would have any other kid your age. You introduced yourself, telling him the important details like your favorite ice cream flavor and what you wanted to be when you were older. He was kind enough to not point out that an astronaut chef was an unlikely job.
His responses were a bit muted in comparison, but you didn't mind. It was clear Bruce was intelligent early on with his large vocabulary and varied topics. More than once you had to look up words in the dictionary or pull a reference to understand what he was talking about. Having to look things up sometimes was far better than a boring pen pal – like Andrew Clark who had a pal that only wanted to talk about a specific species of shark.
At the end of the school year with a parent's permission you could send your home address to your pen pal to keep the correspondence going. It took three days to get your mom to grant her approval and worth every extra chore you agreed to. Even more thrilling was that Bruce wanted to keep writing to you too.
Somewhere early fifth grade you figured out Bruce's real identity, not that he'd ever truly been hiding it. The pieces had been clicking together for a while but the clear mention of his bedroom in the Tower cinched it. There's only one capital T Tower in Gotham and everyone knows it belongs to the Wayne family.
You chose to not acknowledge it. Looking back on it you don't know why – it just didn't seem to make a difference. Bruce was Bruce, Wayne name attached or not.
You both kept writing consistently all the way through middle school. Considering the attention span of kids, especially pre-teens, it was a remarkable feat. From what you knew, you were the only one to keep in touch with your pen pal for so long.
For whatever reason your parents never chose to look over your letters and without a teacher's watchful eye, you could say anything. No topic was off limits. There was no judgment between you two. The bond was sacred, sharing every last thought and feeling. You normally made up for where he lacked in the feelings discussion, where Bruce had plenty of thoughts for the both of you.
High school was where things started to slip. You were caught up in keeping your grades high, extra curriculars, and the drama of who’s dating who. You’re not really sure what Bruce got caught up in – as far as you knew he didn’t even attend the posh boarding school for Gotham's elites.
Needless to say, the established schedule fell apart a little. It certainly wasn’t once a week anymore but you did your best. Even when you didn’t get a reply for a while, you kept sending your letters. Someone had to be clearing out the PO box because none of them were ever returned.
Bruce’s letters came to a complete stop soon after graduation. It coincided with his widely-reported disappearance from Gotham, so you weren’t surprised, but it felt wrong to give up on your correspondence. A pen pal for this long shouldn’t end without a proper goodbye.
You kept at it – the frequency of your post varying with the ups and downs of life. College brought exciting times but also a fair amount of strife. You kept Bruce up to date about everything. New friends, new partners, new addresses when you moved, celebrations of passing exams, excitement over what was on the horizon, grief at the untimely loss of your father, the burden of bills and low wages.
While there weren’t any letters being sent in return, Bruce would find a way to pop up in your life from time to time. You’re not sure what he was up to in his world, but it was enough to know he was reading your letters. A surprise delivery of baked goods at your doorstep filled with your favorite confectionaries, a large anonymous bouquet at your father’s wake, a mystery deposit in your bank account when your bills became a bit too tight.
You'd offer a brief thank you in your next letter, nothing that would embarrass him, but enough that it was acknowledged. After all this time you had a good idea of how to properly toe that line.
Part of you wished for a real response. Even a short missive emblazoned on impersonal Wayne letterhead. You weren't ungrateful for his little gestures, but you missed his voice, his mind. Bruce had the most interesting way of looking at the world. You missed being privy to it – you hoped one day he would let you back in.
—
It's late when you get home. Clean-up at the volunteer shelter took longer than you expected, meaning your trip home was more nerve wracking than usual. Your apartment isn’t in the Narrows, but that isn’t saying much. Gotham isn’t the kind of city to have a truly “safe” neighborhood – the promise of violence just varies from borough to borough. You’d say yours provides an even 50/50 shot.
The mostly-empty subway cars are uninviting despite being the fastest and safest option. With less bodies crammed inside the tubes it means your chances of being targeted go up. Every squeak of the train track seems louder, every rattle a little more threatening. You keep a tight hold on your bag. The streets themselves aren’t much better. Moonlight barely reaches the street, blocked by the thick clouds, and streetlights are inconsistent at best.
You breathe a sigh of relief when you see your apartment door. Six stories up with two locked doors between you and Gotham's nighttime streets means you can finally relax. It's not really paranoia, more so staying vigilant in a dangerous city.
You flick on your small table lamp and fall into the couch. There's an attempt to fling your bag onto the coffee table, but it hits the side and it slumps onto the floor. Not a big deal. You'll grab it tomorrow. The comfort of home settles in, nearly tempting you to close your eyes right there on the couch when your stomach growls. Food, eating, important. Right.
Rolling off the cushions, you catch a small whiff of yourself. You don’t smell bad, but you’re not sure it can be said that you smell good. Your priorities quickly become apparent. Food, shower, then sleep. Anything else is tomorrow’s problem.
Deciding what to eat is easy when there isn’t much in your kitchen to start with. Grocery shopping was supposed to happen yesterday, but with how busy your week has been there’s been no time. Luckily, there’s still enough to scrape together a serviceable sandwich. You eat it over the sink, not wanting to deal with a dirty plate and trying to keep the crumbs contained.
By the time you finish your sandwich, your eyes are half-open. Skipping the shower until tomorrow morning is incredibly tempting, but the idea of slipping into your sheets squeaky clean just barely beats it out.
It takes a little time for your water to heat properly, the result of aging infrastructure and a half-caring landlord. In an effort to keep yourself awake, you pull out a pen and paper and begin to scrawl a new letter to Bruce.
It's been nearly two weeks since your last one. You've gotten through the simpler details when the water has finally heated, abandoning the letter on the kitchen counter.
The choice to shower was the correct one. There's immediate relief standing underneath the warm spray, the stress of your day-to-day melting away. The city's grime sloughs off of you, collecting in the tub. It eventually makes its way down the drain – a clogged pipe that you can do nothing about always leads to an inch of water for you to stand in.
You're nearing the end of your shower when a noise catches your ear outside the bathroom door. You quickly write it off. With an apartment six floors up it would take a worthless amount of dedication to find a way into your place. Any smart thief wouldn't enter the apartment with a light on either. It's nothing.
Rinsing your hair, there's another louder noise accompanied by a heavy grunt. There's no mistaking that. Someone has found their way into your apartment.
Panicked, you quickly grab a towel and wrap it around yourself. If someone is going to break into your place they aren't going to catch you completely naked. Looking around the bathroom, you quickly settle on the plunger for a weapon. It's not much but definitely better than nothing. The thought of the baseball bat perfectly nestled under the edge of your bed taunts you.
The shower is still running, but your water bill is the least of your concern at the moment. If you die in the next ten minutes you won't have to pay it anyway.
Inching towards the door, you mentally walk through your gameplan. Throw open the door, plunger raised, run at the intruder yelling, and rain fury down upon them. Hopefully they'll be so shocked by your deranged appearance that they'll immediately frighten and leave.
You only manage to execute the first two steps of the plan – the shock of what you find stopping you dead in your tracks.
There's a man standing there, but it's not some random drophead like you thought. There's no mistaking that silhouette. It's him in your living room. The Batman.
Before you can really process the insanity of the situation he stumbles, landing hard on one knee. You rush over, terrified that the masked vigilante of Gotham is going to die here on your secondhand rug.
He's heavy. With more than half his dead weight falling onto you, it's a shock you don't completely buckle underneath him.
"Come on, at least get to the couch before collapsing," you grunt, leading him over.
His eyes are partially closed, clearly struggling to keep them open. He's breathing heavily with his suit half blown to hell. You have no idea what to do.
The most intense medical experience you have is shooting someone full of narcan to help prevent an overdose at the volunteer shelter – an experience you're not exactly eager to repeat. You weren't built for stitching up wounds and preventing infection. Clutching your towel, the realization that there is nothing you can do for him is crushing.
Water is becoming a puddle on the floor beneath you, your breaths becoming more ragged to match his with every passing moment. Something about your fear seems to awaken something in him.
"Front– pocket. Auto– injector. Thigh." Every word is a labor. It takes you a few moments too long for his words to click.
"Now."
The force of his words snaps you into action. You launch forward, frantically flipping through all his pockets to find the right one. Front pocket, honestly. He couldn't have been more vague. Eventually, your fingers wrap around something that looks similar to an epipen.
"Twist. Then–" he breathes in sharply, struggling for the next word. "inject."
You can do that you think. His armor is thick, but the fabric on his inner thigh thins a bit. With his sprawled position, it's easy to access.
You twist the injector, watching the liquid turn royal blue before stabbing it into his thigh. He cries out slightly, his body tensing, before collapsing back into the cushions.
"Good job."
His eyes slide shut. His chest continues to rise and fall at a slow but steady pace. The mania of the last few moments washes over you, panic transforming into shock and confusion. How did Batman manage to choose your apartment out of millions? What the fuck.
You stand there looking down at him, suddenly realizing you're only in a towel and the shower is still running. A flush of embarrassment courses through you as realization crashes. There's only the barest hope you didn't flash him in all the commotion.
Drying off and changing as quickly as you can, you bring a clean rag and some warm water over to him. You're guessing whatever he asked you to inject him with is some kind of super-serum but you can't imagine being so filthy is doing any favors. The absurdity of this isn't lost on you. You're really about to clean up Batman's wounds.
It's a slow process. You take your time, periodically switching out the water. At some point you grab a different rag to clean up the torn edges of his armor as well, trying to keep everything as sterile as you can. You do your best – you're not exactly an expert at this.
Even as you clean him up it's difficult to come to terms with the fact that this is really happening. Following the aftermath of the Riddler a couple years ago, Batman went from freakish rumor to celebrated hero overnight. He still seemed more myth than real to you, but there's no question now. He is very real and seemingly very human. You hadn't been sure if the bat motif went deeper before.
You finish up and are left with the conundrum of what to do next. You're more exhausted than ever, but leaving him here just seems wrong. In the end you settle on dragging over your moon chair and grabbing a book. This isn't weird right? You're just making sure he doesn't die or convulse or something.
It was foolish of you to think you could stay awake. Between your preexisting fatigue and the adrenaline come-down, you don't make it through a paragraph before falling asleep.
—
The first few rays of sunlight streaming in your windows are what wakes you. There’s a moment of panic before registering that you’re just in your living room, safe and sound. You stretch and rub at the tight spot in your neck. Falling asleep curled up like that is never a good idea.
Your eyes drift over to the couch and you freeze. He isn’t there. Had you imagined it all? Was last night actually some incredibly vivid dream or hallucination brought on by exhaustion?
That’s the final straw. No more doubles that roll into volunteer shelter shifts. Your body can’t handle that toll anymore. You give another big stretch, your spine popping, and let out a small yelp when you turn to the kitchen and see Batman standing there.
If last night seemed ridiculous then you don’t even know what to call this. What is there to say or think when the city’s masked vigilante is standing in your kitchen like he belongs there? And how the hell is he even standing after the condition he was in?
He doesn’t say anything. You’re not sure what you expected. You don’t know what to say either. It doesn’t even feel like he’s trying to psych you out or anything, he’s simply… quiet. His eyes return to your letter that he’s holding.
“Hey! That’s private!”
You rush into the kitchen, pulling the letter out from his hands. Gotham’s protector or not, he doesn’t have the right to start reading your private correspondence.
He doesn’t seem all that bothered by your anger. "Sorry, I probably shouldn’t read ahead."
You stare at him in slight confusion and wonder as the pieces click together. Holy shit. How did you not put it together before? It seems so obvious now – like you’re in the fifth grade again realizing your pen pal Bruce is Bruce Wayne.
Bruce Wayne is Batman.
Bruce Wayne is Batman.
His letters stopped years ago, but you would still venture to say you know Bruce Wayne better than anyone else and it all fits. More wealth than he knows what to do with, a desire to continue his father's legacy to improve Gotham, and a deep, dark scar left on his heart all too young.
You always imagined he would start doing some serious philanthropy work, but you suppose this is in line with that. It's not all that shocking that he wants to do it with his own bare hands. Bruce has always wanted to do things himself.
In the eighth grade he told you about a computer he was working on, going into great detail to explain its complexities. It was going to be one of the most advanced systems ever designed once he was through with it. He also mentioned offhand how he nearly blew himself up with it. Becoming Batman seems right on target with that.
What doesn't make sense is why now? Why tell you at all, this many years in? He's let Batman remain a mystery to you for nearly five years. You didn't do anything new to gain his trust.
“I um, I think I need to sit down.”
You stumble back against your countertop looking for stability. From him showing up unannounced in your apartment to this, it’s all a bit much to take in. You’re grateful Bru-Batm-Bruce doesn’t immediately intrude on your personal space, giving you room to breathe. There’s a good chance you would have fully freaked out on him if he did.
You take measured breaths, careful to not let yourself spiral. Although, if there was ever an appropriate time to do so, this would be it. This is a lot to put on anyone, especially so abruptly. The answer to why Bruce couldn’t use his incredible intellect to plan this better will evade you forever.
Once you can trust yourself to not start panicking again, you look back over at him. You have no idea what comes next. This is not how you ever imagined meeting Bruce. You thought maybe one day he would begin to write back again, leading to the decision to meet for a coffee or dinner. It seemed realistic – a bit more adult. This feels like something out of a dream.
You close your eyes again, trying to take it all in. He’s still there when you crack them back open. To be sure, you give yourself a little pinch on your arm. If Bruce finds that odd, he doesn’t say anything about it.
Needing to do something before addressing the elephant – or rather bat – in the room, you grab a glass down and pour yourself some water. It feels strange to ignore him, so you offer you uninvited guest water as well, to which he shakes his head no. It at least feels like a semi-normal moment in all of this.
From there, you wander back to your living room, taking up an end of the couch. Bruce follows, politely letting you lead the way. You wonder if he’s told many others or if he just knows this is best for you. You have absolutely no idea of where to begin.
“Um, hi I guess,” you venture.
You’re by no means an expert in the expressions of Bruce Wayne, but you’re willing to bet that’s the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Hello,” Bruce says.
“So you uh, you’re the Batman then? I feel like I should have been able to put that together sooner.”
“I would have been surprised if you did.” You’re not certain on how to respond to that. Your shock must come across clearly on your face, because Bruce is quick to clarify. “I’ve worked hard to keep people from putting the pieces together.”
Not many must know his true identity then. You can’t say it’s surprising, given Bruce’s usual habits about divulging personal information.
You’re not too proud to admit that sitting across from him in his full suit, even as beat up as it is, is incredibly intimidating. The reason for the bat motif evades you, but looking at him helps you to understand more. He looks large in the suit, an imposing figure by anyone’s standard. His eyes stand out against all the black in stark contrast, the icy blue pinning you in place. It makes it a bit hard to think straight.
“Would you mind um, taking off the–?” You hope you’re not overstepping. He’s trusted you with his identity, but you’re not sure if that also means trusting you with his face.
Your breath hitches as his hands move. The cowl comes off in one fluid motion.
You’ve seen photos of him of course, even recently, but being face to face is something else altogether. The tabloids have at least one thing right. He’s gorgeous.
His hair is long and in severe need of a brush after a night under the helmet, and yet it works. There’s black makeup hastily smudged all around his eyes, maintaining the contrast of his eyes. Stubble dusts his sharp jawline, drawing your attention to his plush lower lip. You’re not sure if this has calmed your nerves or made them worse. He looks like he was just dragged out of a gutter, which for all you know he might have been, and it’s as though he stepped off the cover of a magazine.
You suddenly realize you should say something more instead of continuing to stare. “I guess I can’t pretend it wasn’t really you after all this,” you half-heartedly joke. You’re not sure if it lands.
Bruce readjusts slightly on the couch, drawing your eyes back to his injuries. Whatever serum he had you pump him full of clearly did its job. The exposed skin still looks angry, but cuts are already stitching back together and there's no longer any active bleeding.
The state of his suit is something else. It looks like he was chewed up and spit back out only to be chewed up again. Massive holes are torn clean through, numerous singe marks across his chest. He's lucky to have not lost the pocket where he was keeping that emergency vial.
“Are you okay?” you ask, “I was a little worried you’d die on me in the middle of the night.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.” You think that was meant to be comforting.
Once again, you’re not really sure where to go from here. It feels like your life has now been turned upside down from when he first stumbled into your apartment last night. Simply patching up Batman would have been plenty to deal with and process, but now you know his identity too? Calling this whole thing strange is underselling it.
It peaks your curiosity though.
“Why now?” you ask.
Bruce's eyebrows twitch upward for just a moment. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, why tell me now? You've been Batman for a while and I can hardly remember the last time you wrote to me," you explain. "There's essentially no point in telling me so why? How can you even trust me?"
You wish Bruce wasn't so hard to read. It's nerve-wracking, unable to tell what he's thinking or feeling. It's also entirely unfair, knowing that your heart is on your sleeve.
"How long have we been writing to each other?" Bruce asks. You're sure the non-sequitur has a point, so you let it slide.
"Since we were nine. Although I'm not sure the past few years count as actual correspondence."
"It counts," Bruce asserts, “Trusting you is the easy part. I’m sure my childhood secrets would have fetched a fair price to the right reporter."
Bruce’s mention of selling his letters off is the first time the thought has ever crossed your mind. It makes sense, you suppose. There were definitely times where that extra cash would have come in handy, yet it was never something you considered. You didn't ask for Bruce Wayne as your pen pal and he didn't ask for you – who are you to betray that sacred childhood bond?
“Still doesn’t explain why you’re choosing now to tell me,” you say.
“Your address was the only one I could remember last night.”
You've never been more touched and more concerned at the same time. You caution moving slightly closer to him on the couch.
"You still didn't have to tell me," you say. Bruce looks confused, so you press on. "You woke up first. You could have easily left and told me sometime later."
"Would you have preferred that?"
You think on it for a moment. "Well I guess not but-"
"You deserved to know," he interrupts. "I came here and you cared for me having no idea who I was. The explanation was warranted."
He's not really wrong. The explanation does and doesn't make sense, but what seems to matter most is that Bruce is so certain of it. There's not a single trace of doubt – you're not sure what to do with so much confidence in yourself.
You think back to all the years of silence from him. So many years where you filled him in on nearly everything in your life while learning none about his. Any sane person probably would have stopped writing. Any sane person probably would have changed his PO box and yet, neither of you did.
Sitting across from him now on your well worn couch, you suppose you have an answer for all his unsent letters. You know what he was doing. Sure, the details are missing, but you know and for now that's plenty.
Something more significant than childhood letters are shared between you now. Neither of you are unaware of the shift.
"I need to get back," Bruce tells you. "Alfred is probably worried."
You remember the name of his childhood butler from his letters. It warms your heart to know he's still a large presence in Bruce's life. He always seemed to have the young heir's best interests at heart.
"Will I see you again?" you ask. You desperately hope this meeting isn't bound for more years of silence from his end.
Bruce slips his cowl back on. "I'll be in touch."
You nod, watching him walk across your small apartment back towards the window. The ever-present clouds in the Gotham sky should provide enough shadow for him to sneak away undetected. He's certainly had enough practice.
Bruce is half out the window when he turns back to you and asks, "Why did you keep writing?"
You don't have to think hard about your answer and give it almost immediately. "I didn't want you to be lonely."
His mask obscures most of his face. You hope that he's touched and not offended – the thought of growing up alone in that Tower just always struck you as empty.
Bruce gives you an almost imperceptible nod and then he's gone. You hope he won't be a stranger.
A week later, there's a letter in your mailbox.
Comments & reblogs are always appreciated 💕
Tagging a few people who seemed interested:) @skeletoncowboys @green-socks @nobodys-baby-now @moonlight-prose @autumnleaves1991-blog @1800-fight-me
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let me love you like a woman
the gangsta manga was actually incredibly good and i wish my ex didn’t have all the issues i gave him bc i want to read them again :( anyways though here’s some longer nico appreciation bc lord knows i would give my whole life for him
nicolas brown x afab!reader
nic and his lover reunite after what seems like a million years
☆no real warnings for this one
It was quite often that Nic was off on “buisness” and such trips usually took place over the span of multiple weeks , on rare instances even months.
Feeling his big strong arms wrap around her waist she smiled , enjoying the very presence of her beloved once again. Lonely days and nights now forgotten. The empty bed she had once had to lay upon would now have another body accompanying her.
“Get a room love birds. The whole world doesn’t want to witness the two of you making out in the middle of the street” Worick gagged mockingly receiving a dirty look from you as Nicolas placed you down gently. He was always so afraid of hurting you , afraid he wasn’t able to limit his strength. You admired him for it.
“Fuck you Worrick. You’re such a bitter old man”
“Ahh shut up I’m not gonna take this kind of treatment from the same chick who claimed to have cat like reflexes but fell off the top of a roof when a kid threw a baseball at ya”. He laughed ,leaning against the stone wall.
“That was one time ! I’m shocked you didn’t forget grandpa”. You retorted with a grin, taking Nic’s large hand in yours
“Aaaanywho I’m going to be kidnapping your partner for the rest of this fine evening …unless either of you gentleman have any complaint”.? An expectant look up at Nic who nodded , a small smile on his face
Dismissively Worrick waved the two of you off. “I could care less what the two of you get up to hell take him for the rest of this week if you wanna. Right now all I wanna do is lay down on my own bed and have a nice cold drink”. He paused for a moment looking you dead in the eye. “Bring him back in one piece okay ? And if you two are going to engage in “activities” do your best to keep it down the rest of us are trying to sleep”.
And with those final words of parting he was gone leaving you and Nicolas alone together.
You felt like a giddy teenager who was finally allowed to have a boy enter her room. A feeling excitement and sexual prowess filling your veins.
[Do you want to get dinner first. I have not eaten all week. Been busy] Nic signed , pointing down the road to a small ramen shop. It was one of cozier places within Estralum.
It did erk you that he tended not to eat as much on said “missions” but he was alive and healthy..ish so you weren’t going to waste your breath complaining. Nic wasn’t going to change regardless.
You shook your head. [I am going to cook your favorite meal tonight. I have things planned].
Nic smiled down at you again , embracing you in a warm embrace.
It was so nice to finally have that special someone who filled the emptiness within his heart. Twilights like him tend to be treated as pets by humans or just objects to fight in their petty wars. Never would he have thought a human would be the slightest bit capable of loving him. Of course he’d never let his guard all the way down in case of betrayal but he did hope to spend a good portion of his life by your side.
[Lets go quick].
•
Warm air met your skin as you entered your apartment throwing your jacket on the arm of the couch.
“It hasn’t changed”. Nicolas stated bluntly observing his surroundings.
“Well you haven’t been gone that long love , it’s only been about 11 days”.
[a lot can change in just a few days].
You dismissed his comment deciding to instead get things started in the kitchen. On normal circumstances you would sing softly to yourself as Nic rested on the couch or got up to his own things but tonight the two of you were all over eachother.
Similar to newlyweds.
[You know…I thought about you a lot when you were gone].
Nic raised an eyebrow in a mixture of amusement and curiousity
You turned the stove down low and turned to face him , placing the spoon in your hand down upon the counter.
[All day every day I thought of you].
[Is that so]?
You nodded. “I couldn’t wait till you got back and now”.
Nicolas tended to feel nervous when he got too comfortable with someone. There was always a chance of disappointment but with Y/n it was different. In the best way.
[I love you…so so much].
#more simping for nicolas brown#gangsta anime#gangsta x reader#gangsta#anime x reader#anime fluff#nicolas brown fluff#nicolas brown x reader#blurb#drabble#fluffy blurb#fluffy drabble#fluffy#oh how i love him#esha writes
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one of the most difficult and painful choices i’ve ever had to make in my life has encouraged, on my best days, the most peaceful span of weeks/months I’ve ever experienced in my life.
consider that i left my abusive husband while living alone in a new state, with no family nearby to speak of, with just a few friends around. the resiliency and bravery of that cannot be understated.
-
i love my little routines of morning walks, updating my journals at night on the bench, doing my evening meditation, working at my various favorite coffee shops, talking to best friend every day, maybe meeting a friend once or twice a week, and spending a great deal of time alone. and not being harassed or hurt by that aloneness: but leaning into it, wondering, “what can right now teach me?”
i love, too, the bravery of doing things by myself: like going to see the chicks all by myself and having the entire left row by myself--crying and dancing and doing whatever i want: not having to censor or edit myself because i was with someone.
-
feeling more deeply the sweetness of others: like when, on my morning walk, a grandpa rerouted himself after I’d said hello and came and sat by me in the shade and chatted with me; how another older man at the coffee shop apologized a few times for sitting near me and having a meeting, said “you ever come to the (local nonprofit cinema)” and when i said yeah, he said “if i see you there, i’ll get you a free popcorn!” or when bestie, in one of the many voice messages we exchanged throughout the day said, “i’d never be mad at you for that, it’s part of your healing journey” or when i saw a man walking down the street, handing out cookies to the homeless folks and the DGX employees; or when my favorite cashier (whose name is the same as what my sisters used to call me as a kid: Cecil) always says hey! how you doing!? in a way that feels so sweet and familiar.
-
got an email a few days ago that at first meant I’d have to go to ABQ in September for a work thing. I spiraled a bit: didn’t wanna go to the city I met and married Y in. this morning i woke to an email that all had been resolved, and i no longer need to go.
thank you, universe.
-
i am alive, and for the first time in many decades, i do not want to cause myself harm.
i’m getting real clear about the light in me. i’m getting real clear about my worth. i’m getting real clear about the possibility of.
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Self Awareness
I saw the prompt "intimacy" and this sprung to mind. I hope you enjoy it!
"Kagome!" Yuka ran over, careening into her arm like a human cannon and making her slide with the math review sheets strewn across her desk. "You would not believe what just happened to me. I can't believe you're even at school to hear it live!"
She was having a peaceful nap at her desk during lunchtime before being interrupted. Sleep was getting harder to come by these days, so Kagome found she was dozing off at every opportunity. Blearily, she sat her head up from the desk and a pencil dropped off from where it was stuck to the side of her cheek. "Huh?"
"Arakawa," Yuka hissed in a passionate whisper and a big grin. "He put his hand on my back! Like, above my butt!"
Eri and Ayumi came swooping in from behind. "He what?!"
"I! know!" she gaped with her infectious enthusiasm, shaking Kagome's shoulder a bit for effect. She mustered up a smile for her friend, though she couldn't see what was the big deal here.
Eri dragged a chair over from the desk in front of Kagome's with an obnoxious squeal. The person who just had their assigned seat stolen sucked their teeth in annoyance from across the room, but it went unnoticed. "Don't spare us a single detail!"
Ayumi followed the lead and pulled up her own chair. Yuka stayed standing, bouncing on her feet as she relayed a story of epically bland proportions.
As she listened to her talk about dropping notebooks off to the teachers' office with the boy she liked, Kagome began to zone out. Looking at Yuka's radiant expression after a moment, she shook off her fatigue and recollected herself for the momentous occasion.
She barely sees her friends nowadays! Crushes are exciting!
"And then. And then," Yuka leaned forward. "Mr. Mabuchi asked me to bring more books back to the classroom."
"And?" Eri and Ayumi leaned in themselves, which Kagome awkwardly mirrored.
"The books were on a shelf that I had to tiptoe to reach. Arakawa said," she put on a deep voice, "'You're too small Shimizu, let me help.' And he stopped me from doing it. With his hand. On my back. Totally casual."
Eri drummed her feet on the floor, Ayumi clapped her hands together and gasped girlishly. Kagome teasingly poked Yuka straight in her side. She danced in place.
"What did you do?" Ayumi asked.
"I stood there gaping like a fish!" They started to laugh together. "I took the books when he was done and made a beeline for the classroom."
Yuka finally found a seat and sighed forlornly, rolling Kagome's pencil back and forth across her desk. "His hand was so big and warm. I stopped breathing."
Unbidden, a clawed hand wrapped protectively around the dip of her waist flashed across Kagome's mind.
Not now! Inuyasha only does that when it's life or death!
"I'd probably die right on the spot." Eri sighed too. "You're so lucky, Yuka. I hope Tsuda and I get some alone time together someday."
"You will!"
"It's bound to happen!"
"I bet Arakawa thought your reaction was cute, Yuka." Ayumi smiled.
"Seconded." Kagome nodded.
"You would know, too," Yuka smirked in her direction, "between that delinquent of yours and Hojo."
Kagome's eyes bugged out of her head in indignation. She quickly scanned the room for the boy in question before responding. "There's nothing going on with Hojo! Or the delinquent for that matter."
"Like I'd believe that." Ayumi scoffed.
It was Kagome's jaw that dropped this time. She'd been betrayed by her quietest friend!
"Yeah, seriously. Sometimes when you're absent and we call your grandpa, he says you're running around with Inuyasha." Eri said pointedly.
"I would hardly call it running around," Kagome said weakly. "He...takes me to my appointments!"
Appointments being jewel shards, she thought to herself.
"On what? His motorcycle?" Yuka waggled her eyebrows. "Do you hug his back tightly?"
Her face started heating up like a tomato. "He doesn't have a motorcycle!"
"So, what? He carries you?"
In the span of a few short months, it was already surprisingly easy for Kagome to jump on Inuyasha's back at a moment's notice.
"No!" She shrieked and began to sputter, "We travel like perfectly normal--h-human beings!"
"Shhhhh!" Their teacher smacked her ruler on the podium in the front of the class. "Everyone go back to your seats."
-
When Inuyasha met her on the way home from school, Kagome refused to look him in the eye the entire evening.
#inukag week 2022#inukag#inuyasha fanfiction#inuyasha x kagome#prompt: intimacy#inuyasha#kagome#drabble#i wrote this on the train. i think i worked on this for a total of 45 minutes tops pls excuse any mistakes#my laptop died so this is also uploaded on my phone. the horror!#i imagine that kagome starts to feel isolated from her peers at least a little bc of all the stuff she's seen#especially after she's sealed on the other side of the well#I'd like to explore that more one day#pls picture inuyasha being Very Sad that kagome won't make eye contact w him
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I'm sorry for your loss Heids, I can relate to the trauma of losing someone to a quick illness. My father was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer and died in the span of 7-8 months, none of us saw it coming since he was doing treatments and things were apparently going well, but one night he was just gone without any warning.
That was almost a decade ago, it still feels like yesterday, and I think about him every single day. I'd be lying to you if I said the grief goes away with time, but it doesn't. It does get easier however. The first few years on the anniversary of his death were definitely extremely hard, but as time has gone on I've learned to take the day in stride and to just remind myself of all the things he taught me in life.
So for now, be gentle with yourself. If you can't sleep, curl up on the couch and watch a movie. Give Obi a very big hug, kiss your husband, allow yourself to be comforted in your grief. Don't hide it or lock it away, it will only make recovering and dealing with your grandpa's death that much harder (take it from me).
Lots of hugs and kisses to you darling, and if you ever need to talk about things I'm always here to listen <3
i am so so so so sorry for your loss. i can't even imagine, it sounds so terrible. thank you so much for taking the time to send this message, i know it was probably hard to think about all this again and relive it, but i appreciate it nonetheless. im so thankful for you and your kind words, im also so sorry i didn't see this for some reason??? but thank you thank you thank you
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oooohhhhhh 🦊 is a lovely choice!
Anyways, hi ⭐ (and lio!) thanks for the questions:
Who's your favourite character?
for genshin, its without a doubt xiao. ive mostly lost interest in the game (but that obsession will probably come back in a few months stronger than ever, just give it some time to cook lol), however he still has a special place in my heart, y'know? like, i wasnt that much of a fan before i found out how fucking bad his english translation was (no offence to laila, though. she's a sweetheart i just dont think she was a good choice for him :/). i also adore his chinese VA, kinsens voice is so good!
A few honorable mentions would be: venti, zhongli, guizhong, gorou, scara, yanfei and yelan
hsr is also a very quick answer lol. its yanqing! i first found out about him from the joke that he was xiaoaether's kid, since im very fond of that ship. and even when i started playing, something about him just made me love him, and i wanted to get him as the free five star (and i did! hes my strongest character yet). to me, hes very much "some kid" but thats what i like about him, hes charming, hes cute and has alot of story potential.
honorable mentions: tingyun, serval and dan heng
obv these arent the only fandoms im in but i wasnt sure if you where asking for every single one
Cat or dog person?
Yippee, a question that wont take two paragraphs to answer! Im very much a cat person, but i have owned a few dogs in my life (rip to čupko* and hepi (his original name was 'srećko' which basically means 'happy person' (masc.) in serbian but my grandpa changed it. little me was pissed lol)
I also have a cat now, her name is jinx and shes currently napping on my windowsill<333
Why did you choose the 🐌 emoji?
ok funnily enough i was actually racking my nerves trying to chose an emoji, i remember i wanted to try the 🦭 emoji, but chose the snail bc its one one my favourite animals. and now that i think about it, a snail fits the garden theme most of us have going on lol
sorry for sending this behemoth into your askbox lol (well idk its going to look like as an ask yet), but i absolutely adore answering questions, even if im awful at asking them. so if youll humor me, ive got some question of my own:
whats the most recent book you started/bought? (mines vol. 1 of beastars, super excited to start it!) what is some of your favourite media? (shows, books, movies, etc) and whats your favourite animal? mine are axolotls :3
your truly, 🐌.
HI 🐌 ANON I ALSO HAVE A CAT NAMED JINX!!!! HELLO...... she's a black cat with a little white spot on her chest and is the sweetest cat in my house <3 and none of you ever have to apologize for sending long asks! they're always welcome.
for me, if you want the most honest answer to the most recent books i bought... the two most recent books i bought were The Reason I Jump: The Inner Voice of a Thirteen-Year-Old Boy With Autism and Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By In America for my ap english class AJDKCHKSSGJF but for a more fandom-y answer, i recently bought volume 2 of spyxfamily.
some media(s) i really enjoy. hmmm. to be honest, i haven't recently had the patience or attention span to watch a lot of new shows or read new books. so i don't have a good answer LMAO
and as for my favorite animal, i like cheetahs a lot!!!! they are so fucked over by nature and it makes me so sad sometimes. but i also like snakes, i think they're all so cool.... vipers are all so pretty. so dangerous, but so pretty. ball pythons have the cutest little faces and i cannot wait to get one of my own. i like a lot of animals i think!!!!! but those are two of the notable ones.
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PSA: I added a few information to the about page for fandoms in this world, because I realized that people who haven't read the one for fantasy-magic ones may not know some things. Given that in this world we span from Middle Ages to like 1970, I also did a sum up of things that are always true (save us agreeing to change something because the other mun has a problem with them). Note that some are basically the way I made canon stuff happen in the fantasy world and then I brought them back into this one!
(I still need to think of how to translate some of her fantasy-angst to this world, she can't get dark here but maybe the rest?)
if you don't want to click on the carrd to see it, it's basically this:
[.... Emma steers away from romance even if she's aware that at some point she'll have to marry someone, and is afraid of having her heart broken and falling back into depression (calling it whatever it is called at the time, depending on the fandom, if it's all revealed) which she fell into for months after being ditched by the man in question, who felt some remorse and admitted the truth, and that he had tried to love her but just couldn't - something that, together with the pity that accompanied his confession, put a nail in the coffin of her self-esteem when it comes to romance.]
and:
[Things that are always true:
-her trauma with the emotionally abusive man she loved, which NO ONE knows details about except one of her best friends, even her parents just know that she had a terrible heartbreak but nothing more
-having given up on love entirely even if she can't talk about it without mentioning her trauma and being terrified of being depressed again, the two things are very connected
-several scars on her body, some of these being one over her heart (step-grandma wanted her really dead, one on her lower back ironically from someone who betrayed her, a large burn on her back)
-if she's royalty and therefore in the past, there is a risk in people knowing that the sole heir is a woman who suffered from a 'mental illness', especially if she doesn't marry quickly
-her grandfather is also sending people after her but instead of her death he'd be just fine trying to make her unable to have children like he tried when he poisoned her mother, or leaving her permanently damaged in some way]
Some were already there (the ex) but I expanded on it a bit, some were just obvious to me I think (grandpa George)
#I only haven't given her night horrors/nightmares and pains in this world because here they wouldn't be due to a parallel life not lived#so they'd be ptsd and I don't want to give ALL my characters ptsd. feels too much like self insert anyway#and yes I know I write her as immensely traumatized by her ex but it's DIFFERENT.#about;#update;
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the agony of being a fan of the “villain who also is/acts like an uncle/parent/guardian figure to the protagonist” and “funny road trip” tropes and also sinking too much emotional investment into pokemon ranger guardian signs characters means my white whale of a fanfiction is post game summers out doing some international mission r something. maybe undercover idk but it’s something where she’s mostly cut off from official support. and mewtwo finally decides to spit Ed out of whatever limbo portal rand and him got Got in back on the sky fortress and now she’s gotta deal with this bullshit, and all the hurt that came w his betrayal that she thought she successfully buried is suddenly there again like it was just yesterday gs happened (except it’s been marinating for a few years at least so now it’s uhh definitely off color a bit) and Ed’s gotta deal with his survival being entirely reliant on the girl who effectively wild card-nullified any reputation n standing he built and decades of work towards world domination in the span of a month (maybe two). and despite the fact that they both feel very deep resentment towards each other they still had a genuine friendship in Oblivia and still very clearly see aspects of themselves in the other and they’re both stuck trying to reconcile the urge to fall back into that familiar weird grandpa n weirder grandchild dynamic versus the urge to scream at each other until their voices give out.
#and then the. what'd you call it in writing terms but the bridge of the story#y’know like towards the end#THE CLIMAX THERE YOU GO#the climax summers. hurt bad or something and maybe somewhere along the road Ed’s acquired a Something that’ll give him a shot at eternal#life or whatever#or maybe not#but what it comes down to is that he chooses to you use that McGuffin (or not if there’s no McGuffin) to keep her alive instead of saving i#for himself#chooses to help heal the next generation and the generations to come instead of trying to preserve a dead and dying age#bc Thats His Granddaughter and despite her taking a wrecking ball to his life’s work#he cares abt her very much and wants to see her thrive#wants to see her live#idk how it would end in regards to what happens to him#like if he’d go to prison or not#thematic narrative says he’s probably pass. accepting death n all that but that’s sad :(#and that’s another thing he’s have to grapple w - would the rest of the Societea be dead by then#his closest friends like family separated by space and now by possibly death#well one of two white whales of a fanfiction#my art#<- tagging for reference
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Speeding
Word count: 906
Genre: fluff
Request: yes
Warnings: swearing, car accident
Summary: Maybe speeding isn't all bad...
A/N SPEEDING IS DEFO BAD - PLEASE DON'T DO IT!
You weren't speeding per se, but you definitely weren't going the speed limit. It wasn't completely your fault, you were running late for a team dinner back at the tower. You had been doing paperwork when you received a reminder from your phone that you were late for said dinner. Sure, you should have set a reminder for like 15 minutes before you needed to leave but you tended to ignore those.
There was a light mist of rain covering the road and the sun was beginning to set. You checked the time and sped up even more when you saw you were close to half an hour late. You asked your car to send a message to the group chat, telling them that there was traffic. You continued to cruise through the few cars on the road until you saw a deer jump out in front of you. Obviously you slammed the breaks on - you weren't about to kill Bambi. Your wheels span and swerved due to the wet road and spun you out into the other lane. Another car slammed into the boot of your car, causing you to spin again, throwing you into a ditch. You let out a groan when the car finally stopped moving, calling 911 and telling them all the relevant details. There was just one other group of people to call...
You dreaded the reaction you were about to receive when you hit call. The phone rang once before it was answered.
"Hey baby! could you tell the team I'm going to be late for dinner?" Sirens sounded in the background and you were eternally grateful you had called Natasha and not a super soldier or a witch who could probably read your mind through a phone.
"Why?"
"Oh! I was in a car crash." Before Natasha could complain (and you knew she would) you quickly told her "Well would you look at that the paramedics are here gotta go bye!" You hung up and turned your phone completely off.
You were cut out of your car and transported to the closest hospital, the paramedics having no doubt contacted Stark (who was annoyingly your emergency contact after a bet gone wrong).
~~~~~
It took Natasha and the team 20 minutes to get to the hospital that was 40 minutes away from the tower. You didn't really have any ground to stand on though considering you were in the hospital because of speeding.
"What in the hell Y/n." You were a pretty fearless person and you prided yourself on the fact neither Natasha, nor her scary Black Widow persona made you bat an eyelash however in that moment, you were shitting yourself.
You opened your mouth to explain, ignoring your other teammates plea's to just keep quiet but Natasha cut you off. "No. You sit and you listen." Natasha was deadly calm. It was terrifying. "How dare you. Why the hell were you driving so fast? Why were you not paying attention to the road? What the fuck is more important than driving safely!" Natasha may have started off with a quiet anger but the more she thought about how wrong things could have gone, the louder and louder she got.
You didn't want to admit it, but it was strangely hot seeing your teammate swear. "What do I do for a job?"
"I'm sorry?" Natasha didn't look sorry one bit.
"I said" You paused long enough to see Wanda shake her head furiously at you, a worried look in her eye as she knew what was about to unfold. "What. Do. I. Do?"
"What the fuck does that have to do with anything Y/n."
"Well considering I was in a similar bed a month ago for a gunshot wound, you'd think you'd calm down a little." That was obviously the wrong thing to say. "I constantly put my life at risk and this was a minor crash. I broke no bones, I'm not bleeding, dying, under someone else's control, so I see no reason as to why you're so antsy." You were frustrated and confused. You didn't understand the reaction you were being given. The only reason the hospital had called Tony was because you refused to turn your phone on to call a cab.
"Yes but I'm always there with you! I, to an extent, control what can and can't hurt you but a fucking deer in the road when it's wet and slippy causing you to crash because you're an idiot who drives too quickly I can't control!"
"Well I'm sorry I didn't want to be a Bambi killer!" Things were certainly getting heated and you saw a couple of your other teammates try to move towards the door.
"Well I don't love Bambi do I! I'm in love with you not a fictional deer!" Natasha shouted at you, her face nearly turning the shade of her hair.
"WELL I D- wait you love me?" You were fully prepared to defend Bambi and his mother but that topic could be revisited.
"I- Yes."
"Pay up grandpa." Tony extended his hand to Steve as the super soldier fished out a $50 note.
"I think I love you too..." You looked at Natasha, choosing to ignore the bet Tony had dragged some other poor soul into.
"How about we get out of here and go get some proper dinner. Just the two of us."
"Yeah. That sounds nice."
#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanov#natasha x you#natasha romanov x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff#black widow x female reader#black widow imagine#black widow x you#black widow#black widow x reader#damn I haven't written anything in forever
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Coming home
pairing: long distance boyfriend! Donghyuck x reader
genre: fluff
warnings: uuuuuhhhh swearing?
word count: 1.6 k words
a/n: YOOOO A CONVENIENCE STORE JUST OPENED UP NEXT TO MY GRANDPAS PLACE NO LITERALLY ITS RIGHT NEXT DOOR WATCH ME COME BACK HOME WITH A TON OF ICE CREAM 😎😎 also tell me what you think of this, it's a bit different from my usual writing :) (Sungchan blurb coming out tomorrow for knet-bakery’s nostalgic melodies event!! Please look forward to it <33)
AAANNNNNNDDD HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO BEST LEADER TY TRACK!!!!!!!!!!!! KING DESERVES THE WHOLE WORLDDDD <3333
networks: @neoturtles @knet-bakery @kokonomi
🎶: coming home - nct u
5 months. 5 months without Donghyuck. 5 months without his touch, his warm embraces, his soft voice, his teasing remarks. 5 months of yearning for his featherlight touch, boyish grin, spontaneity, his reassurance and sincerity.
5 days until he arrives. 5 more days until you will be with him, 5 more days until you can love him.
Your eyes stay on the calendar for much longer than intended, calculating every single moment until the date hits Friday, waiting for the hour hands to move in the clock. For once in your life, you wish time would go faster.
The movie in front of you is basically useless, it’s his favorite Christmas movie. You can’t stand a second watching it without waiting for time to tick by or constantly thinking of him.
Your foot taps rapidly on the ground, teeth finding themselves chewing and gnawing at your lower lip yet once again. Friday, when will you come?
It’s felt too long without him, his arms wrapping around your body, his lips pressing softly against your burning skin, his hair softly tickling your nose, you’re becoming anxious.
5 days, just 5 days.
——————🌻——————
5 hours. Just 5 more hours.
5 hours until you can whisper how much you missed him, 5 hours until you can finally get shitty convenience store noodles with him, until you can freeze the shit out of your brains with the cold slushies.
You slip on your sweater quickly, bouncing out of bed after the sudden spontaneous decision to get to the airport early. It’s only 3 in the afternoon, the flight lands at 8, and not to mention the baggage pick up and all that other things, that's bound to be another 40 minutes.
You stop yourself before you could lock the door to your apartment, cursing and taking the key out from the keyhole. It’s too early. You don’t want to wait too desperately for him 2 hours before he even arrives.
‘2 hours.’ You tell yourself, ‘you can go in 2 hours.’
5 hours of impatience and anticipation is a lot harder to handle that 5 hours of a normal day.
What can you do in 5 hours? Surely, you could call Donghyuck, text him, send him a video or photo, anything.
Your head swarms more and more with thoughts of your distant significant other, the image of him printed permanently in your mind for you to cherish and enjoy while he’s gone.
5 months, he didn’t change that much, right? He never fell for someone else, right? There’s no way.
There’s a sudden swing in your mood, from frantic and yearning, to worried and doubtful, 5 months could really affect one.
——————🌻——————
5 minutes, god you’re literally shaking in anticipation. 5 minutes until you know you cry, 5 minutes until you’re in his embrace, 5 minutes until you can kiss his most likely chapped lips.
You decided to stay home, after you promised Donghyuck you would wait at home for him after he quickly texted you before the flight landed.
You’re unaware that in 5 minutes, the person you’ve longed most is coming through the front door, in 5 minutes you’ll be able to hold him and kiss him and finally be with him.
Maybe you should take a nap? Eat a snack? Clean the house?
4 minutes.
You slump into the couch, scrunching your face up in frustration. It’s been too long since you’ve been with Donghyuck. Without a fucking screen separating you apart.
There’s a hole in your chest, you can feel it, its dark and empty and swirling with eagerness. It’s eager for something, you know exactly what.
It’s waiting for Donghyuck’s love to come and fill up that void, to complete yourself.
Waiting for your better half.
3 minutes.
You can’t pay attention to the movie. What’s the point of watching a Christmas movie when it’s by yourself? Your eyes trail to the window next to the couch, where the snow falls ever so gracefully, covering the ground in a beautiful white.
Usually, you would always wish to go outside and play in the snow, but you have nothing but impatience in your body as you wait for your lover to come through the doors and welcome you in a hug.
2 minutes.
Is he stuck in traffic? Was there no taxi left?
1 minute.
You’re sure there were many taxis left, didn’t you book one for him? Did you forget? Oh no, did you?
50 seconds.
You curse at yourself and stand up abruptly, reaching over to the lamp table next to the couch to grasp at the keys.
45 seconds.
Dashing to the door, you are unaware of the figure behind it, hauling his heavy luggage up the stairs with such speed as well.
30 seconds.
You’re grabbing your puffy coat from the coat hanger, your heart clenching at the empty spot next to it, where Donghyuck’s coat will be hung.
It only urges you further to quicken up and get to the airport on time.
25 seconds.
But that’s nearly impossible, will all the snow and traffic, halfway there and he could already be waiting for you at home.
20 seconds.
It doesn’t stop you, you still have the large urge to see him come out the gate yourself, be reassured that he is here, he’s going to stay.
15 seconds.
Donghyuck huffs and wipes at the cold sweat on the back of his neck, when did the stairs suddenly become longer? Was it always that hard to get up?
10.
Your long distance boyfriend faces the door, the familiar wooden, authentic door he hasn’t seen in too long for his liking. This is it.
You’re right behind that door, stopping in your tracks to question if your actions are worth it.
Just wait, you tell yourself. He will come.
5.
But greed takes over. It’s taking over your hand that is reaching for the door knob and twisting the cold metal to open the door.
4.
Strangely, there is a weight causing the knob to twist easier, which is weird, the knob has always been a bit rusty and hard to twist open.
3.
Donghyuck thinks the same thing, wondering if you finally fixed it with some oil or changed it.
2.
Even at the smallest opening of the door, the cold gush of wind pushes in and blows against your warm skin, goosebumps being the result of such action.
As the door opens wider, you spot a familiar black luggage, the brown coat you bought as a birthday present for your boyfriend, and what’s best, is your boyfriend himself, whose expressions change as well as yours when he sees you as well.
1.
In the span of a single second, Donghyuck is barging in and swooping you up in his arms, the snow from his coat falling between your own jacket and slipping into your neck and shoulders.
The cold is nothing compared to the nostalgic warmth of Donghyuck’s arms you missed oh so much, his skin burning against yours as you bury your face in the side of his neck.
You’ve grown a few inches, Donghyuck notices, because you only have to tiptoe to reach his shoulder. He can’t help but notice the smallest, most simplest things. Like how the living room has changed a little bit, just a few more pots of plants here and there, the tv playing his favorite Christmas movie, his hoodie he left for you sitting on the couch, he notices every little thing, and instantly adores all of them.
You also notice everything too, the way his shoulders have grown broader, the hairs on the back of his neck that grew longer, heck, even his new shoes he was sure you wouldn’t notice.
One thing that doesn’t change, you notice as you pull away slightly to look into Donghyuck’s eyes, is the love in them. The warmness and adoration pooling in them. The sparkle that they hold.
What also is pooling in his eyes are tears, happy tears, at the sight of you smiling oh so brightly just for him, all for him to cherish.
“Fuck, you don’t even know how much I missed you,” he breathes out, sighing at the feeling of your fingers softly carding through his snowy hair.
A soft smile adorns your lips, your lips Donghyuck has longed for so long, your lips he still longs to kiss.
And so he does. He plunges forward to take your lips passionately between his, the feeling of them crashing together sending his heart into a frenzy. Donghyuck’s mind is blank, only you in it, your hands lightly tugging at his hair, the smooth skin of your neck as he pulls you closer, your heart beating against his. He’s finally home.
Donghyuck attempts to dive back in and chase your lips when you pull away, but is stopped by your fingers pressing against his lips and your soft laughter filling the air.
A pout creases his lips, as you pat his cheek and kiss chastely on his red nose, “Go take a shower, you’re gonna catch a cold.”
He indeed catches a small cold that evening, dramatizing the fact that he’s cold, begging for cuddles and for you to feed him, but you’ve simply missed him too much to complain.
What would you even complain about? It’s almost Christmas, he’s home, and he’s going to stay. He will be the one helping you decorate the tree, he’s the one throwing snow at you, he’s the one setting the mistletoe up just as an excuse to kiss you.
He is everything you’ve ever wanted, he is your home.
#neoturtles#knet bakery#lee donghyuck imagines#lee donghyuck#lee donghyuck fluff#donghyuck x reader#lee haechan#haechan imagines#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct x reader#haechan x reader#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 x reader#nct dream imagines#nct dream x reader#nct scenarios#nct dream#nct 127#fullsun#lee donghyuck drabbles#lee donghyuck blurbs#nct drabbles#nct blurbs#nct 127 blurbs#nct 127 drabbles#nct dream blurbs#nct dream drabbles
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Hey! Love your stories on Ao3 and I’m so happy that I found some more of your work to read!❤️ If it’s okay can I make a poly request? I was thinking of a girl from our time being sent back to the lost boys and them falling for each other. There can be some angst if you want, such as her being sent back to her dimension but maybe finding a way to go back to their time after months of being away? Thank you for giving us some of the best stories ever! 💕
So, this is a pretty big request (possible spanning over multiple chapters), so I’m gonna actually write/continue this on my ao3 account! I may post the later chapters on here later, but for now I’m gonna keep them on ao3. Here’s the first chapter!
It’s Just a Movie (Fem!Reader x poly!Lost boys) fic
Next Chapter ->
Warnings: Cursing
Word Count: 1504
It had been a simple night. Sure, it was halloween and, sure, it was a full moon. A blue moon at that. But that didn’t mean anything, right?
You sure as hell didn’t think so as you went to see a showing of one of your favorite movies, the Lost Boys, with some of your friends. With everything going on with covid, the theaters were empty and your local one had been showing older classics for the past few weeks. They had a selection of horror lined up for halloween night, and your group had chosen to see your favorite vampire movie.
You had even dressed up for the occasion, donning a dark, almost gothic look. Hell, you practically looked like one of the extras in the opening sequence. You and your friends jammed along to the soundtrack, laughed at Sam’s antics, and nearly cried when you witnessed your four favorite vampires meet their inevitable end. A movie’s gotta have an ending, right? After Grandpa delivered the classic ending line, you and your friends packed it up to head outside.
Well, they did. You had forgotten your wallet, and you ran back into the theater to grab it. Your friends had promised to wait for you, and you fumbled to put your mask back on as you searched through the dim theater. You used your phone to find it half stuck in one of the chairs, and you quickly jogged out of the auditorium, and then the theater, to find that your friends weren’t waiting for you. And that the streets were far more packed then they had been a second ago.
Sure, there were people in halloween masks and costumes littered about, but you nearly scoffed when you saw that no one seemed to be taking any of the social distancing rules seriously. You took a step, planning on looking for your friends when you noticed that the theater had almost...changed. The outside didn’t look the same as it did before. Instead, it had the old sign outside, broadcasting what movies were playing inside. Sure, you had expected some older movies, but some of these you hadn’t even heard of. You thought it was weird, considering the theaters would probably want to stick to the most popular ones during a pandemic.
You looked back around, but your friends were nowhere in sight. You thought to walk to the parking lot, but you paused. You heard a whistle, and a wave of relief washed over you. You turned, expecting your friends, and, instead, you were met with a different familiar face. This night couldn’t have gotten any weirder.
You looked him up and down. Teased blonde hair, blue eyes, straight nose, slight stubble on his sharp jawline, a black coat paired with white pants and a mesh shirt? He was even wearing those calf things that your friends had made fun of that one time, because what the hell type of 80s fashion things are those supposed to be? You shook your head, touching one side of your forehead while thinking that perhaps you had hit your head or something while looking for your wallet. There was no way you were looking at Paul from the Lost Boys. He sent you a grin, flashing rows of straight, normal, non-vampire looking teeth, and said,
“Well, hello there to you too, doll-face. Need some company?” He asked, and you nearly thought about pinching yourself. Holy shit. Before you could answer, you heard,
“Who’s this?” And you wouldn’t have been surprised if this whole sitation wasn’t boggling your mind. As all the fans knew that where one Lost Boy was, the others weren’t far behind. You turned, and found yourself looking directly into the face of the other natural blonde. You met big, hazel colored eyes, and your eyes instinctively fell to his lips. Just in time to watch his thumb be pushed between them. Clean jaw, cherub face, golden curls, a heavy, colorful jacket, jeans, and leather chaps? There was no mistaking him. The second half of the blonde duo had arrived, and you almost wondered if the others weren’t far behind.
“I don’t know. She seems shy.” Paul said, a smile on his face as he reached out to brush a hand against your cheek. Cold fingers barely brushed against you, and you leaned back. Almost into the blonde on your other side, who had taken the spot right next to you. “I’m Paul, and that’s my buddy Marko.” Paul added, pointing at the blonde with his eyes. Before they trained themselves back onto you. Marko leaned in a bit to say into your ear.
“Your turn.” And it nearly caused you to flinch. He laughed, steadying you. “C’mon, we don’t bite.” He said with a grin, and a shiver nearly ran down your back when the taller of the blondes laughed. Too hard. If you hadn’t been so caught up in the complete and utter shock you had been experiencing you probably would have been thinking more about how these boys were vampires. Sure, it had been fun to talk about them on forums and on different apps, but suddenly you were hit with an urge to run. Especially before the other half of their gang arrived.
“I’m- I’m just looking for my friends.” You quickly blurted. You started walking, but your brain was on hyper-drive. If this was real, if this was really happening, then you were in a horror movie. And the killers had already taken an interest in you. They quickly started following, staying just as close as they had been before.
“Ooh, are they as pretty as you? We can help you find them.” Paul offered, and you almost wanted to accept. He sounded like he was just trying to be helpful, albeit flirt a little. It was the eighties, so you couldn’t quite blame him for being so persistent. Part of you really wanted to accept, but you reminded yourself. Horror movie. Killers. And they probably wanted to make you apart of the menu. You had only taken a few steps, but the shorter of the two jumped in your path. He walked backwards and said,
“C’mon, you don’t wanna walk alone, right? It’s halloween, and all the weirdos are out.” Marko started, and Paul was quick to waggle his fingers and make a spooky sound to accompany his claim. You faltered. You hadn’t necessarily thought about where you wanted to go, and the parking lot was dark. Far darker than the front of the movie theater. And emptier. You gulped, reminding yourself once again. Horror movie. Killers. You looked between them, trying to think of a way to not end up as a juicebox for the two unfairly attractive vampires in front of you.
You had to admit. You had no idea where you could go, and it wasn’t exactly like you knew what the hell was going on. As far as you were concerned, these were some of the only familiar faces you would find. That, or the Emersons. But you had no idea what time it was in their- what could you call this? Dimension? Or was this just some weird dream? Whatever it was, you had no idea if the Emersons even arrived yet or where to find Grandpa’s house. So, you were shit out of luck. You supplied your name before you quickly added,
“My friends and I- We were going to meet on the boardwalk.” You said, and the boys grinned. You knew it had to be one of their favorite places, since they went there every night. At least that's what the movie made it seem like. Maybe, just maybe, you could get there, let the boardwalk distract them, and figure out what you were going to do. And have some fun with two of the biggest heartthrobs from the eighties.
“Sweet! We can totally take you. We just need to wait for the rest of our friends.” Paul said, and suddenly every last bead of hope slipped from your body. Two vampires already had the odds against you, but all four? Especially one of them being David? You would be screwed! Before you could make something up, Marko said,
“Yeah, here they come.” And you wished that whatever this was would end. That you could go back and be in your own dimension. You turned, seeing a brunette wearing just a leather jacket, jeans, and sneakers. His dark, brooding eyes practically shined in the night, and his resting face made you want to shrink in on yourself. To avoid them, your eyes flicked to the blonde besides him. Blue eyes, scruffy cheeks, and a leather jacket-trenchcoat combo paired with leather pants, boots, and leather gloves? Oh, you were so screwed. If you had any doubt in your mind that this was happening, you were sure now.
As the rest of the vampires approached, you tried to calm your oncoming panic attack with a mantra of it’s just a movie. But now you weren’t so sure.
#the lost boys#the lost boys 1987#the lost boys paul#paul the lost boys#david the lost boys#the lost boys david#dwayne the lost boys#the lost boys dwayne#marko the lost boys#the lost boys marko#the lost boys imagines#the lost boys x reader
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🕯Anon said: hi sweetheart 🕊 can you write about armin having a quiet night with the reader? something like wearing comfy pajamas, fairy lights, cute little candles, incense, soft songs and maybe some reading? and they just cuddling? 🥺 i think about that whenever i go to sleep and do all of the above, but i'm just by myself lmao anyways, thank you so much 🌸 (btw i'm the anon who asked you about the armin x painter!reader 🥺 hello 🥺 i just love how you write can we be friends please) 🕯
Quiet night with Armin
{ Armin x Reader | tw:none | sleep help, comfort, fluff | modern }
{ "Twilight, Valley of the Genesee" 1865 by Samuel Colman 1832 - 1920 }
Shimmering golden hues weaved across pastel blue walls in the form of strings, crossing the bookshelf before making a turn at the plants corner, illuminating the room with a soft warm glow.
Your head rested against the satin pillow, just right above Armin's shoulder, close enough that you can see the rise and fall of his chest with every breath. The ends of his hair ghosting over your cheek whenever he leaned to tell a particular clever line of the book he's been reading to you.
You can't exactly remember the name of it, but you can clearly recall his excited smile this morning when showing it to you.
"It's one of my favourites" he said, "the last time i got to reread it was in high-school, has it really been that long?" And that's all you can remember from the conversation before it got sidetracked by him asking if you had lunch yet.
There's definitely something to be said about rereading a book over and over again, a sense of familiarity, an attachment to the characters, plot and world setting. It's almost magic how quickly your comfort book, show or movie can turn a horrible day into a nice one, making it the silver lining.
Looking at the way Armin would pause for a second after some lines, or chuckle at random scenes, like it's an inside joke between him and his mind, you can tell he's definitely recalling some good memories.
Just like how he's adding to his list of comfort memories by sharing this experience with you, he wants you to be a part of this silly book he once picked up as a child and continued to revisit every few years.
You glance at the remaining pages, just as he flips another one to start anew. You've already finished a third of the book, only a quarter remaining.
It's not that you're getting impatient, but it's more that the soft blanket draped over you, the warmth of Armin's body pressed next to yours and the sound of his voice, are all luring you into a hazy cloudy state where your eyelids feel too heavy and turning your head to check the clock seems too exhausting.
How long has it been? since you curled up against him right after you went to put your empty hot chocolate mugs in the sink.
You don't have the heart to tell him that your brain stopped registering the words he's saying and instead listens to the tone of his soft-spoken voice and reacts accordingly. Stealing another glance at the remaining pages, you notice a few missing, okay good, just a few more. You can hold on right?
Right?
Forcing your eyes open, you suppress a yawn threatening to rise before curling even closer to his shoulder, face against his neck, hand over his chest.
Instead of focusing on his calming heartbeat, you try to focus your attention on different things, like the smell of snowdrops flowers filling the room from the scented incense sitting on the nightstand.
Snowdrops, the milky bell-like flowers who befriended the cold harsh snow herself.
An ancient German tale that Armin told you, on one early spring morning. When the universe was just in bloom, as the earth shaped its form and the plants dressed themselves, when the god in the heavens above just created snow, she was told to go seek her colours from the flowers below.
She came with her request, but the flowers turned their heads, refusing to acknowledge her for she is the reason for the harsh weather, deeming their life spans short, overzealous and jealous, protecting their colours from the merciless lady snow.
She was left all alone, friendliness, colourless with no love or sympathy from a soul.
Except for one, came knocking on her door, head bowed down and humbly offered to share. Snowdrops were the flowers that warmed the snow's heart, and so white was the colour in which snow was known.
Snow made a vow, to always protect her one and only friend, even from her own self. Under her watchful gaze, snowdrops were gifted with warmth that let them be the first flowers to bloom when winter bid her goodbyes as spring was arriving soon.
You've never seen snowdrops the same since, their delicate and shy nature standing out between all the proud flowers, you even suggested planting some to Armin.
"...but sweetheart" you remember him saying with a frown, " snowdrops are poisonous."
…
Yeah, and so getting their scented incense was the second best option available.
You hear the sound of another page being turned, fewer left to go, just hold on a bit longer.
Wondering the room with your eyes, your gaze fell on the straw sunhat hanging from the on the back of a chair. It's Armin's favourite, he'd always wear it when the sun was particularly bright that day.
you remember him saying it was a gift from his grandpa when he was a child.
His grandpa...didn't you visit his farm a few months ago?
...yeah you did, you can recall clearly, how you were:
Squinting your eyes to avoid the bright sun, you wiped the sweat collecting on your forehead before leaning your head back against the wooden wall. The occasional passing cool breeze distracting you from the dryness in your throat, even after moving to sit in the shade your skin still felt too hot.
The grassy fields in front stretched wide before ending in white pained fences, where the crops patches for vegetables started.
The sudden gentle waves of cool air against your skin made you glance to the side, where Armin was fanning you with his hat, while holding a tray with two ice filled lemonades in his other hand.
"Are you sure you don't want to go inside?" He said, sitting next to you before handing you the cold drink, "you've already done a lot, I'll do take care of the rest."
You've been helping Armin with the farm work since sunrise, feeding the animals together and watering the crops, saying you're exhausted from the scorching hot sun was an underestimation.
And yet, somehow Armin seems unaffected. Not a sign of being bothered as he sat there next to you with his rolled up sleeves and cuffed pants, the slight flushing to his face was the only thing he got from the sun.
"Yeah, I need to lay down a bit." You remember saying, after emptying your drink in one go.
"If that's the case then-" setting the tray aside, Armin patted his lap while looking at you, "Come here."
Too tired to protest, you layed your head on his thigh, feeling your back stretching and the cool air from his fanning was already making you feel better.
"You know, there's a story my grandpa used to tell me about the sun."
An Australian folklore, about a time when the earth was merged in absolute Darkness, when even the stars refused to light up the sky.
Eternal darkness was the fate of humanity, as people were spent their lives carrying torches to light up their way.
Gnowee was an alone mother in a forsaken world, left to fend for her little son. Each day while he slept safely, she'd venture into the the fields in search for plants or seeds. Knowing very well that's it's a matter of life and death if she couldn't come back with something edible.
Each day she'd come with whatever she could find, feeding it to her son even if it meant sleeping on an empty stomach.
But with food scarce and the abyss looming at every corner, things were harder each day.
One day after rocking her child to sleep, she quietly left with her torch to dig for yams she saw on her way last time. Retracting her footsteps, it was a long journey but she knew it'd be worth it.
And so she walked and walked till she reached the place, began digging the ground but dirt and mud was all that she could find. But she couldn't just go back to her son empty handed, and so she wandered far.
She wandered so far in fact that she reached the end, not the end of her journey but the end of the earth itself.
Somehow, in someway she managed to pass from under it, her will for her son to live another day far greater that anything, and so she emerged from the other side.
The void.
Where nothingness lived.
Looking at the vast empty space, she didn't know where she was, the line between the ground and walls was so blurred that she thought she's floating.
Panic and dread filled her mind as she raised her torch higher and higher, attempting to clear a path for her to see. For she had to go back to her son, all alone sleeping by himself.
Climbing the sky was her only solution, as she wondered the world, unknowingly lighting up a path with her as she went.
"And so the Sun Goddess wonders the sky above, in search for her son." Armin told you that day, before offering you his own lemonade to drink because he was still worried about you.
...
You can't recall how that day ended, you think you might have fell asleep on his lap right after.
The fairylights on the wall reminded you of the clear stars sky you've seen while on the farm, his grandfather was a really sweet guy too.
With your mind still coulded in drowsiness, your hearing was also delayed apparently, since you just noticed the book in Armin's hold was closed with him staring at you with a smile instead.
Moving so he could set the book on the nightstand, Armin turned towards you before pulling you closer to him, making sure the covers don't slip off of you. He cupped your face, stroking your cheek with love in his eyes.
"I'm sorry baby, did I take too long?" He said, glancing at the clock behind you answered his question.
You shook your head, murmuring a slurred "it's alright."
Posture visibly relaxing, he gave your cheek a small kiss before resting too on the pillow next to you, a yawn escaping him.
With half closed eyes, you saw him cuddling close to your chest, features softening as he bid you goodnight. Your hand moved to stroke his hair just like he always liked, lacing your fingers through the soft strands you closed your eyes too.
Warmth took over you, the feeling of his soft breath near your neck, the comfortable weight of his arms around you, the slow ticking of the clock, it all rocked you to sleep as you happily gave in.
#Armin🕯#sleep help🕯#comfort🕯#fluff🕯#modern aot🕯#armin alert#Armin x reader#armin arlet x reader#armin x y/n#armin x you#armin aot#aot#snk#aot x reader#aot x y/n#fluff#sleep help#comfy cosy#attack on titan#aot fanfiction
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Hi!! I LOVE your writing!! may I request something for modern! Muriel where he goes to a school, never talks to anyone and maybe still lives in a hut, so he doesn’t really know all the modern stuff. He sees the MC (fem would be nice) and develops a crush on her. One day he sits in like a library and he’s on his laptop and the poor guy just doesn’t know what to do with it, so the MC offers him help and he’s a big blushing mess. She invites him to come to her house to study and she has this small apartment with like lots of flowers and animals so he feels right at home and they talk about plants,animals and stuff? it’s so much I’m sorry, I thought it’s cute 🥺
awwwww omg thank you so so much! I’m still super surprised people like my writing and like me enough to follow just I love y’all.
So these are in headcanon form and I went a little wild. Also this counts as a little birthday present for @tabbybells since I thought of Bink and Muriel the whole time I was writing~ Lov u and your amazing artwork. You’re super fun and very sweet, if y’all have the time go check them out! Wonderful art of Muriel and a super adorable MC cat bastard named Bink. (there is a bonus with Bink and Muriel too after the other headcanons just for fun! Lmfao hope I got Bink right XD)
Muriel x MC modern au. Made it college, he’s a Veterinary Science Major MC is not specified with gender and major (you two have science classes together tho ;3)!
~~~~
Muriel is the more reserved student, SUPER DUPER smart and really good at what he does but more reserved
Hear me out here but: he has glasses. Thick black frames, he pushes them up his nose with his shoulder a lot when he gets distracted
He does struggle to use his new laptop because he was just fine with his old one until it broke on him.
You found this kinda funny. You’re studying in the library for a science test and this really big dude is just pouting at his laptop with the blue error screen
Of course this gets you out of studying so you go over to help him. At first he waves off your help, until you show him you have the same laptop and know what you’re doing
Then he gives in
“Good luck trying to fix this mess. Ugh my old laptop was better than this junk.”
...he had a 10 year old laptop that was the size of a brick and ran like a 94 year old woman with arthritis it was not better
He’s smart just not super tech savvy. Think ye old dad’s asking their kids for help with tech kinda not tech savvy.
It’s okay because he’s freaking adorable when he pouts over his laptop not working for the eight billionth time
You two start to chat a little bit after helping him boot up his laptop, and it’s goodbyes from there when you’re done
But he started going to the library pretty often after that in hopes of seeing you again
You come in every day to study and check out something new (or pester the librarians.)
So the two of you run into one another a bunch. Each time he has a new problem with his laptop (sometimes they’re real other times it’s an excuse to talk to you. O-Only to get help of course!)
Depending on you it might take a few days or a few months to catch on to his plan
And once you do, it makes you smile and laugh a little because gosh he is quite the dork
Of course you developed a little crush on him too during this time, but one day he comes in to actually study
You two have a science exam together to you invite him to come study over at your house
He tries to hide it but he lights up at the idea of spending more time with you, so of course he accepts (after...a moment of pretending to think about it. He didn’t want to seem too eager and scare you off)
When he first sees your apartment he’s....in shock to put it lightly
So. Many. Things.
He likes it a lot. The amount of animal stuff you have on your walls, plants hanging from the ceiling and a bunch on every window sill. Birds/cats/dogs/hamsters etc chattering around
It’s very bright and warm he feels at home immediately
You make warm drinks while he sets up in your living room, looking super large in this almost dollhouse couch and coffee table
It’s quite a sight, but he accepts the drink eagerly. You two study for a bit before the books get forgotten and you just...talk
About anything. Everything. The weather. Your classes. And it moves to animals.
He gets all excited and lights up when he starts talking about Inanna (met her injured in the woods outside of town when she was a pup. He nursed her back to health and she’s never left his side since)
When he talks about her he gets all animated and opens up a lot more. Still soft spoken and shy
If he notices you staring he’ll blush red and go quiet
But when you ask questions and ask for more stories he’ll slowly warm up to being animated again
You’re...really easy to talk to like this
When it gets late and he has to go home you kiss his cheek and send him off
Bright red he is.
But he can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
MODERN BINK AND MURIEL HEADCANONS UNDER THE CUT. This is what im good at so Happy Birthday Tabby! 😎👉👉
Modern au Bink feels like a cat person to me. All the cats. Any cat he runs into he gets. House is filled with cats. It’s hilarious
Muriel calls him Grandma because of this. Bink in turn calls Muriel Grandpa due to his troubles with tech
Asra knits them both matching ugly sweaters
They wear them every time they see Asra
Bink and Faust have gotten into staring contests when they go over. Muriel finds them amusing and they can go on forever
Bink loses every time but he will not give up
“...you do know she doesn’t have eyelids right?” “I DON’T CARE I’LL BEAT HER”
Bink (to me) seems like a reigning champ of roller skating. Super graceful and finds it fun (gonna add Maeve in here real quick because this hit me: Bink and Maeve are the power couple of roller-skating.)
Muriel is uhh...not that. Clumsy, and VERY out of his element. Bink takes it upon himself to hold Muriel’s hand and guide him around
To outsiders it’s hilarious as Bink is 5′5 and Muriel is 6′10 and looks like he can bench press a truck
Muriel whittles Bink little presents and cat toys
He keeps the wooden animals on a shelf dedicated to them. You could map out their relationship through the wooden carvings.
Muriel lives on coffee. Bink is banned from drinking coffee
Asra has a polaroid camera and a cork board of pictures of Bink and Muriel
Faust and Inanna are good friends
Inanna and some of Bink’s cats are not friends
Inanna is banned from Bink’s apartment due to this fact
Bink and Muriel go on a lot of late night dates. They both like to nap with one another in a sunbeam on a couch
Muriel is the dad that passes out when he sits in a comfy chair. Bink is the cat that curls up on Muriel’s chest to soak in the warmth
Said cats will gather around them as well if they can
Asra has taken to calling them the oldest married couple
They are an old married couple, sinking into home like routine
Muriel carries Bink on his back when they go out into town because Bink does not want to walk
Bink and studying don’t go together well due to poor attention span (FAIR) Muriel has created a reward system for him (yes Muriel still has his glasses, and yes Bink steals them and wears them himself. yes he has gone blind in them. Yes Muriel has lecture him. yes Asra has a picture of this)
#the arcana#the arcana game#muriel#muriel of the kokhuri#bink#muriel headcanons#the arcana headcanons#fluff#college au#Muriel is an old man#HAPPY BIRTHDAY TABBY!#friend's apprentices#mc x Muriel#muriel x apprentice#muriel x bink
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So I've been avoiding really talking about this for the past few days, but I don't think that's the healthiest choice for me, so I've decided to talk about it here. My maternal grandpa, George, passed away from cancer earlier this week, and I'm still kind of numb about it. This is Death #4 for my family in the span of a few months, so. It never ends. So this post is for my Grandpa, he was a mean old cuss, he was smooth as hell, and he was the family rock. I'm still kind of numb about it all, but today I'm feeling more melancholy than anything, so if you've messaged me or sent any asks and I don't answer them, it's just because I'm too tired. I'll get back to you soon, though, friends.
Rest in peace to my Grandpa. He was always the smoothest dude in the room with his suits and hats and snake skin belts--but it was more than that too. This was a man with CHARISMA. My grandpa could sell ice to an eskimo and charm the teeth from a shark.
Heaven got one smooth, smooth angel with this one. Love you, Grandpa. 💗
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