#i'm trying to push out more letters but for now here's the one from last year
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An open letter to @staff
I already submitted this to Support under "Feedback," but I'm sharing it here too as I don't expect it to get a response, and I feel like putting in out in public may be more effective than sending it off into the void.
The recent post on the Staff blog about changing tumblr to an algorithmic feed features a large amount of misinformation that I feel staff needs to address, openly and honestly, with information on where this data was sourced at the very least.
Claim 1: Algorithms help small creators.
This is false, as algorithms are designed to push content that gets engagement in order to get it more engagement, thereby assuring that the popular remain popular and the small remain small except in instances of extreme luck.
This can already be seen on the tumblr radar, which is a combination of staff picks (usually the same half-dozen fandoms or niche special interests like Lego photography) which already have a ton of engagement, or posts that are getting enough engagement to hit the radar organically. Tumblr has an algorithm that runs like every other socmed algorithm on the planet, and it will decimate the reach of small creators just like every other platform before it.
Claim 2: Only a small portion of users utilize the chronological feed.
You can find a poll by user @darkwood-sleddog here that at the time of writing this, sits at over 40 THOUSAND responses showing that over 96 percent of them use the chronological feed*. Claiming otherwise isn't just a misstatement, it's a lie. You are lying to your core userbase and expecting them to accept it as fact. It's not just unethical, it's insulting to people who have been supporting your platform for over a decade.
Claim 3: Tumblr is not easy to use.
This is also 100% false and you ABSOLUTELY know it. Tumblr is EXTREMELY easy to use, the issue is that the documentation, the explanations of features, and often even the stability of the service is subpar. All of this would be very easy for staff to fix, if they would invest in the creation of walkthroughs and clear explanations of how various site features work, as well as finally fixing the search function. Your inability to explain how your service works should not result in completely ignoring the needs and wants of your core long-term userbase. The fact that you're more willing to invest in the very systems that have made every other form of social media so horrifically toxic than in trying to make it easier for people to use the service AS IT WORKS NOW and fixing the parts that don't work as well speaks volumes toward what tumblr staff actually cares about.
You will not get a paycheck if your platform becomes defunct, and the thing that makes it special right now is that it is the ONLY large-scale socmed platform on THE ENTIRE INTERNET with a true chronological feed and no aggressive algorithmic content serving. The recent post from staff indicates that you are going to kill that, and are insisting that it's what we want. It is not. I'd hazard to guess that most of the dev team knows it isn't what we want, but I assume the money people don't care. The user base isn't relevant, just how much money they can bring in.
The CEO stated he wanted this to remain as sort of the last bastion of the Old Internet, and yet here we are, watching you declare you intend to burn it to the ground.
You can do so much better than this.
Response to the Update
Under the cut for readability, because everything said above still applies.
I already said this in a reblog on the post itself, but I'm adding it to this one for easy access: people read it that way because that's what you said.
Staff considers the main feed as it exists to be "outdated," to the point that you literally used that word to describe it, and the main goals expressed in this announcement is to figure out what makes "high-quality content" and serve that to users moving forward.
People read it that way because that is what you said.
*The final results of the poll, after 24 hours:
136,635 votes breaks down thusly:
An algorithm based feed where I get "the best of tumblr." @ 1.3% (roughly 1,776 votes)
Chronological feed that only features blogs I follow. @ 95.2% (roughly 130,077 votes)
This doesn't affect me personally. @ 3.5% (roughly 4,782 votes)
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headspace | rafe cameron
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe hasn't seen you in twenty-four hours, he comes over to your house to check on you.
reader type academic weapon, burnout from studying (me), anxious, cries from being overwhelmed and pushes people away when busy
content (1.0k words) fluff, suggestive tone near the end, rafe trying to be a good boyfriend, math (yuck!)
credit inspired by this post by @winterrrnight (definitely check out her stuff!! 💘)
zya's notes was this purely self-indulgent? maybe. but it was a good writing break for me before i get back to linear algebra myself.
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃
⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
"What are you doing here?" You accuse, opening your bedroom door to discover your boyfriend standing behind it.
"I'm here to see you." Rafe says, taking in your appearance. You're wearing a borrowed tee of his, the name of his fraternity plastered in Greek letters, with shorts that's barely seen under the long material. "I've been texting you all day."
"You have?" You ask, your voice softening from the sharp undertone of your accusation. You're just so tired. "My phone's been on DND."
"Why?" He lets out a dry chuckle. He doesn't like the fact that you’ve been ignoring him. "You fuckin' someone?"
That earns him a scowl and Rafe knows he messed up when you pull on the doorknob, closing the limited space that allows him to see and enter your bedroom. "I'm not in the mood, Rafe. How'd you get in?"
He swallows hard. "Your mom let me in."
"She's home?" Your brows furrow together. You've lost track of time. You've been so busy that you didn't even hear your parents coming back from work. "Shit, what time is it?"
You abandon your post at the entryway and search for your phone in the messy covers of your bed. When you check the time, your heart drops. It's nearing midnight.
Rafe quietly slips into your room with his hands in his pockets and searches the place. He admits the first signs he looked for was the presence of another man. That you, in the twenty-four hours since he last saw you, have decided that he wasn't enough and that you found someone else. Instead, what he uncovers is your textbooks sprawled all over the floor, crinkled up sheets of papers surrounding your trashcan and your laptop and tablet propped on your desk with mathematical symbols and equations on the screen.
You weren't out finding his replacement. You were studying.
Your heart is racing, trying to figure out what to do next. You didn't even realize Rafe slipped to your side till his hand catches your wrist and pulls your attention away from your darkened phone screen.
"Hey." Rafe whispers, noticing the panic on your features. "Have you been studying all day? When was the last time you ate?"
Momentarily drawn away from your thoughts, you search your brain for an answer only to recall a distant memory of some yogurt and granola.
"I don't know." You admit. Your chest tightening at the look of concern that flashes across his face. "I can't think about that right now."
"You can't think about food?" He repeats, incredulous. "You're the one who's always trying to get me to try new places."
He was trying to make you laugh, relax, but all it does is set your lips into a flat line. He really is not living up to the role of good boyfriend right now.
"I have a huge exam coming up in two days and I still don't understand a single concept. And it's midnight." You explain, your breathing growing more rapidly as the realization dawns on you. "I shouldn't have gone out with you yesterday, I knew that, but I went when I should’ve stayed in—"
"Hey, hey." He shushes you, his hands sliding up to your shoulders. He knows you're about to descend into a spiral right now. He can't let it happen. "Look at me."
You do.
"It's going to be okay. You're a smart girl, you're going to figure it out."
You shake your head, not believing him, to the point that you're pushing away from his touch, reeling back as if you don't deserve his comfort. "No, Rafe, it's not. It's worth 20% of my grade and I can't recall a single thing. I've been studying all day and I feel like I'm about to go insane because I don't get it. I have never not gotten something this bad before."
You can't stop the tears from welling in your eyes, your bottom lip trembling. First and foremost, you can't believe you're crying over math right now but the emotions are too strong to ignore—you feel like you're about to combust.
"Baby." Rafe begins softly, taking a step forward and pulling you back in. You try to resist but his grip is too strong and you like being in his embrace. Even if you don't deserve it. "Take a breath. Come on, let's take a break."
"I can't." Your voice cracks, a tear falling down your cheek and wetting his shirt. "I actually think I'm going to fail and it scares me."
Rafe knows you always cared about your academics. Way more than he does. But, it's one of the things he admires about you. That fact that you're so smart, that you manage to fall for a guy like him. He doesn't know of any way to help in that department, but fuck if he isn't going to try.
"Alright, how about this?" Rafe pulls apart, the loss of touch causes you to whimper, but his hand tucks under your chin and lifts your gaze to meet his. "We're going to get somethin' to eat. Any place you want, I don't care how far, and I'll drive."
You open your mouth to counter but he cuts you off. "Then, we're going to come back here and I'll help you study. All night if I have to. We're going to figure this out together, okay?"
The plan sounds appealing but you're still hesitant. "You don't know anything about linear algebra."
"Fuck, baby, you can teach me." He states, causing a small smile to rise on your lips. That makes him proud. "Isn't that the best way to learn? When the student become the teacher?"
"Are you saying you're my teacher?" You tilt your head, teasing him. He loves that you're coming to yourself again.
He lowers himself to your level, stopping next to the shell of your ear. "I'm about to teach you a lesson if you don't get a move on." He murmurs, lightly slapping your ass and releasing you in one-go. You let out a little yelp, jumping back.
He tips his head to your closet. "Get change. We got shit to do."
#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx x reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#obx#rafe cameron x female reader#outer banks#rafe blurb#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron fluff#rafe fluff#obx fluff#academic weapon!reader
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Forever —Drabble
Pairing: Lando Norris x female! reader
Summary: First time watching your boyfriend crash during a race? Rough.
Genre: angst, fluff.
Waring(s): Mentions of the Las Vegas crash.
Taglist: @ join taglist here
A/N: This is by far the most poetic work I've ever put out (I think), that being said. WHATEVER TF THIS IS, BLAME ON HIM, THIS MAN IS GORGEOUS
Gif credits to whom it belongs
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED
THIS IS NOT FREE USE, YOU CANNOT USE MY WORK
Even through ringing ears and a dazy view, he could clearly hear you, wondering then how it was even possible, he heard beyond the arguments and strong footsteps; the flare of your nose, the shakiness in your breath, the hamering in your heart, he swore he could feel it. And with that in mind, he sighed in relived, he could feel something after all, the last thing he remembered, the last thing he perceived was dread, flashing through the last few hours of his life, could those be his last?
Shaking, on the verge of tears all he could do beyond gathering the last remnants of strength in him, was think of his family, you right beside his parents, you.
Minutes passed before he realized he blinked forcefully, perhaps one of these times he'd actually lose consciousness, or worse, be gone for good. His usual dramatics and the painkillers were dancing around his brain, making it their playground. Against all of this, he tried to organize the sound with letters, letters into words, and words into speech. Speech, Could he speak right now?
He prepared himself for the task by trying to stand on his elbows.
"Mr. Norris, please lie down," the nurse guided his head back into the pillow.
"My girlfriend," his throat was hoarse strangely enough.
"She's right outside," the nurse's undertone confirmed his bare train of thought.
"I have to see her," he grabbed the woman's arm, he was pleading.
She whispered something under her breath, clearly giving in to the situation, "I'll let her in," she grinned.
He could recognize something now, your stance, firm in shape, trembling with every motion, you stepped in asking, no, demanding the nurse to close the door behind her, avoiding her gaze in plain coldness. You said nothing for the first few seconds, breathing deeply.
"I'm okay," he let out.
"I know, they've already explained everything to me," you covered your mouth.
His fingers reached for yours, longed for them, interlacing with one another, perfectly, like every time before tonight.
He took some awareness of his surroundings, as much as he could without pushing to the edge, how horrible of a might he had over his head, effective, but far too harsh, far too overwhelming.
"We're going home in a couple of hours, they just wanna make sure, you're going to be fine," you knew you were failing at reassuring him, he didn't need it, but you did.
"I gathered that, otherwise you would still be outside yelling at everyone you could,"
You chuckled, not proud of your actions, but finding them rather hysterical at the moment, "I'm sorry you had to hear that,"
"It was music to my ears," he joked.
"Having my screams flood this place?"
"Having you care so much about me,"
"Always," was all you could answer biting down a sniffle.
It was not so long ago when you quietly promised yourself to give him your heart, the one thing you'd never thought you'd offer, let alone to the guy the Russells so kindly invited to a tennis event, to the guy who over a few drinks and laughs without a sense of shame in the world asked you to dance messily, making of those videos something for the internet to cut and explore. He was so much more than that now, and even to put it into those words was the understatement of a lifetime.
He could say the same thing about his side of the story, to explore a rather rushed friendship before diving, completely submerging, was something he'd labeled as a blessing. To fill his hours by your side in talking, and talking until you had everything to learn from one another laid out and displayed in string lights. Neither of you looked for this, flowing like every bottle of champagne you saw him pop, like every shot of Tequila you drank during Mario-kart nights, like every tear of Rosé you spilled all over your couch in the middle of the night.
And to think that both the most infamous people of their career found in themselves something far more valuable than money, fame, even transcending. Comprehending during the first years of your adulthood what it all meant to allow yourself to be completely consumed with love. So unexpectedly both your reputation and his infinite rumors could all be proven wrong. Through the worst of the trials and tribulations of being committed, you still survived.
His head rested in all the calmness you made by moving heaven and earth to have, in the crook of your neck, never letting go of the sensation of his breath, his life. How funny was it to trust someone enough to keep you alive, physically, mentally emotionally; how funny that none of them could think of how to prove something as mysterious as love to be true, in themselves, in one another, in other people past the centuries, yet they believed in, that's what they invested their faith in.
Admitting you were never fools, but only to each other, you could almost touch each other's soul, finding it far more familiar than your own.
"I'm okay," he'd been repeating the same words like a prayer since the night before.
"I know," you gulped, letting go of a choked exhale.
He read you, "Trust me?"
"Forever," you reminded your thoughts, clearing them out with just one.
—If you can't trust yourself, trust him, forever—
"I'm okay," he tested the words against your sleepless frame.
"I belive you," you finally admitted in peace before giving you lips to his.
#lando norris x reader#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando norris one shot#lando norris imagine#lando norris fluff#lando norris angst#formula 1#f1
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Bridgerton shade of blue
Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Three - Becoming acquainted
♡♡♡
When the letter arrived at your house, your mother squealed with delight. This was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her, it would seem.
Though you did make a point to remind her, this is not what she thought it was.
Still, you were dragged off to be cleaned throughly and dressed in your best gown for the occasion. Your mother saw to every detail. It was tiresome.
You said not a word the entire time.
Once you were dressed, she guided you to the carriage. For the entire ride, she told you what to do. You spent the whole trip looking out the window, wishing to disappear. You had been looking forward to a nice dinner with an intriguing family, but you knew your mother would make this unbearable.
The thought to befriend Benedict and Daphne had crossed your mind after they left last night. That's what you would look for in them. Friendship.
When you arrive at their home you are left in awe of how beautiful the house was from outside. You follow your mother up to the front door and wait to be let in. You step inside and find yourself further in awe. Their home was lovely. It felt cosy.
Lady Bridgerton comes over to greet you both. "I am glad to see you here. Please, come inside."
You're led into the drawing room where everyone is sitting and chatting. You find yourself startled to see the Duke of Hastings present. He greets you with a nod. You nod back.
Violet introduces you to the rest of the family. Anthony greets you the same way as the Duke. Benedict offers you a small smile, though you're not sure if he's actually pleased to see you or not. Colin kisses the back of your hand, and you smile. Daphne smiles softly at you. Eloise says nothing. She just looks at you, a book in her hands. Francesca gives a soft smile. Gregory and Hyacinth both say hello to you.
Violet urges you to join the others until dinner is ready. You look around the room and find there are no available seats. Benedict realises this, too, and stands up. "Please, sit here."
You thank him quietly and sit down where he had been. The seat was warm. He must have been sat in here a while.
Conversation proceeds within the room. Anthony is talking away the Duke. Eloise has her nose back in her book. Benedict stands behind you, his hand resting on the back of the chair.
"I didn't realise your family knew the Duke of Hastings." You said softly, looking up at Benedict.
"Anthony and he were friends back in Oxford. Do you know him?"
"Not personally. I've heard much of his father, though..."
The subject was a sore one, so neither of you said any more. You glance at the Duke. He looks like he would rather be anywhere else right now.
Benedict brings your attention back to him. "I'm sorry about my mother."
"Don't be." You smile. "I know how it is."
Benedict smiles, too. "Still, I will admit, I am pleased you are here."
"You are?"
"I'm very fond of making new friends. Does that sound good to you? My sister could also perhaps use a friend right now too."
You glance at Daphne and then back at Benedict. "Yes. That does sound rather nice. I hear the Bridgerton's are quite the friends to have."
Benedict smiles. "I think we are."
You both chuckle and smile at one another. From Violet's point of view, she believes you two are getting along quite nicely. The Duke has yet to speak to Daphne at all.
The bell for dinner is rung, and you all rise. You walk with Benedict to the dining room. Your mother joins Lady Bridgerton.
Benedict pulls out a chair for you, and you sit down. Daphne sits beside you and Benedict across from you.
The Duke is seated on the other side of Daphne.
Dinner is lovely. The whole family is sitting together at the table. Conversation flows naturally. There are smiles and giggles.
The conversation turns to Lady Whistledown.
"Haven't you heard what we're talking about? For all we know, Whistledown may be some interloper living in Bloomsbury, of all palces." Colin says.
You chuckle.
"What should be so terrible about Bloomsbury?" Benedict asks. "That people ther actually work for a living?"
"She does seem to be someone with access." Daphne points out.
"Who knows if Whsitledown is even a she?"
"Fair point." Anthony chines in.
"Because she is simply too good to be anyone but a man?" Eloise asks.
Benedict pulls a face at Eloise. You chuckle.
"Well, I think it rather obvious that the writer is Lady Danbury." Francesca says firmly.
"Lady Danbury enjoys sharing her insults with society directly." Daphne adds. "She would never bother herself writing them all down."
"Could it be Lady Featherington?" Hyacinth asks.
"No!" The whole table explodes into laughter.
"You have yet to read what Whistledown writes of the Featheringtons, little sister." Eloise tells her.
The table fills with different conversations now. Everyone is talking to each other about different things. You listen mostly to Benedict and Colin.
"I'm to spar Jackson himself." Colin says.
"You?" Benedict looks at him with disbelief.
"Is that envy I detect in your voice?"
You chuckle at the brothers. You're so focused on them thst you don't notice Daphne looking at the Duke beside her.
"Judgement, brother. I shall need to witness this." Benedict says.
Colin rolls his eyes, and you laugh again. Benedict looks up and smiles at you. "You'll come, yes? We shall watch as my brother fails in this endeavour."
Colin looks at you. "Please do not feed into my brother's terrible influence."
Benedict pretends to be hurt as he puts his hand on his chest. "You wound me."
You giggle. Benedict and Colin both chuckle with you, smiling at their own banter.
Things are getting tense beside you between Daphne and the Duke. You look at your plate, trying to ignore the atmosphere building.
"You are a rake... through and through." You hear Daphne say. "Tell me I'm wrong."
"Who is to refrain from thinking about whom again?" The Duke asks.
"I assure you. I am anything but interested in you." Daphne states.
"Good."
"Quite."
"And I am anything but interested in you, the eldest sister of my oldest friend, yet another subject of a certain writer. Chaste, neat, desperate."
You glance up at Benedict and Colin. Colin glances at Anthony, Benedict looks up at you as if checking to see if you're okay.
"I shall have you know-"
"To marry, that is." The Duke cuts her off. "Tell me I am wrong."
Elosie laughs, but the look her mother gives her soon had her quiet again.
"Hastings, I'm so glad you decided to join us this evening." Anthony says, breaking the tension. "It was most spontaneous of you."
You feel yourself relax again.
"Not at all." Simon responds. "With Lady Danbury accepting your dear mother's gracious invitation on my behalf... Well, however could I have declined."
Anthony looks at his mother, not looking too pleased with this news.
"You must stay for dessert. You too," she addresses you.
You smile. "Thank you."
"It's gooseberry pie, Your Grace." Violet smiles at the Duke.
"Ah! Lovely!" He sounds pleased.
Violet chuckles.
After dinner, you find yourself back in the drawing room. You're standing by the window with Benedict. He had been telling you a little bit about the house.
"It seems your mother has become quite acquainted with my own," he says, guiding you to the sofas.
"Yes. They spent a good portion of dinner chatting."
"I do believe mother only intended to invite you tonight," he chuckles.
"Yes. Well, mother is quite... eager to see me married. She thinks I stand a chance with one of you." You chuckle. "Fear not, I am not after your hand."
Benedict chuckles. "I do think we may become rather good freinds."
"You do?"
He nods with a smile.
"Then I am delighted to earn your companionship."
You both chuckle.
"You're welcome anytime." He tells you.
"I feel rather honoured."
"You should," he grins.
The hour starts to grow late. Violet passes by the doors of the drawing room. For a moment, she thought you and Benedict were alone in there, but as she comes closer, she spots Eloise reading in one corner, and Francesca working on her embroidery.
Violet enters the room. "I hope dinner was alright."
You look up and smile. "It was lovely. Thank you for inviting me."
Violet comes a little closer. "Well, any friend of my sons and daughters are welcome in my home." She glances at Benedict, who smiles at her.
Lady Bridgerton understands that her son has no intention of courting you. Nor do you seem to have any interest in him that way. However, a mother can hold onto hope.
"Benedict, why don't you escort her home?"
You rise from the sofa with him and bid goodnight to his sisters, who both say goodbye in return. Violet sees you both to the door. Benedict takes your arm as you exit out onto the street.
It only dawned on you that your mother was nowhere to be seen. Benedict realises you're looking for as you exit his home.
"It would seem she left a little earlier. Apparently, you were enjoying yourself so much with us. She decided to let you stay a while longer."
You smile. "Is that so?"
"I'm guessing. I have no idea." He grins.
Benedict takes you home, making sure you get inside safely. Before you leave his side and head in for the night, he asks you a question.
"Will you be attending the ball tomorrow?" He asks.
"I believe so, yes."
He smiles. "Save me a dance?"
You chuckle. "Of course. We have to help each other, no?"
Benedict smiles and watches you go inside. Even when the door shuts behind you he remains standing there for a moment.
Yes, you could help each other. You could help keep his mother at bay for a while, and perhaps he can help bring some attention your way.
Sounds like a plan.
♡♡♡
@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333
@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173
@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner
@hopshusushi
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Unforseen Flames — Michael Kaiser
warnings: fae prince! kaiser x mortal princess! reader, sfw, enemies to lovers, fantasy/royalty au, not proofread!
"I hate you so much because you're always on my mind. Everytime I close my eyes, your face keeps flashing right before my eyes. It's disgusting. But...I feel some sort of weird feelings."
"Did you know how hard I'm trying to calm the flames burning in my heart everytime I see you? And the only way to stop my hatred towards you is for me to make you mine."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:.·:*¨༺¨*:·.
Skipping the dancing class is not an uncommon thing for you to do. You always feel like it's really a troublesome. As usual you wandered around in the forest, hunting for some birds or maybe rabbits. It's hard to tame a rebellious princess especially in her teen age.
Another steps, you might lose your life in less than a minute. You stared at the dagger that stuck in the tree that is right beside you.
"You're passing my territory, ugly mortal."
The voice echoed in the forest but there's no one around you.
"Up here, mortal." Your eyes followed the voice until you can see a man sitting on a tree branch, looking at you with those blue eyes seems like he's trying to pierce your soul.
You studied his features, noticed he got the fair skin, blue eyes like a deep ocean, high bridge nose and ... a pair of pointy ears.
"Wow, didn't know that you own this place. Who are you?" You asked raising an eyebrow at him.
"You don't know me? How ignorant of you." He finally came down from the tree and landed on the ground. He grabbed the dagger that stucked in the tree and pointed it near your throat.
"Let me tell you one thing. I am a fae prince, Michael Kaiser. You have no rights to question me at all." His voice turned into a low whisper and you can clearly feel his breath tickling on your skin.
"Such an interesting introduction to someone you just met." You said mockingly while pushing the dagger away from your throat with your finger. "Well, you seems like you despise mortals very much. But, you can't lay a hand on me. Or else.. we might start a war."
You saw that Kaiser gritted his teeth in annoyance and decided to stop arguing with him. "Anyway, pleasure to meet you, Prince Kaiser. I'm y/n l/n. I wonder if you ever heard that name." You turned to look at him one last time flashing a not really genuine smile before leaving him flooded with his own thoughts.
Kaiser just standing there while holding his dagger in a tight grip, losing in his own thoughts. "That name sounds familiar. But why should I even bother thinking about an ugly human?" He left the forest, stomping around like a kid in his tantrum phase. Perhaps he forgot that he got wings.
• • • • • • •• • • • • • •• • • • • • •• • • • • • •• • •
He knows. He knows who you are from the start. And you got the feeling that he hates you. Very much. You woke up this morning and saw a letter with a blue rose on your dressing table.
Crap, this is not good.
You picked the letter, your eyes scanning every words on it.
"Meet me at yesterday's spot. Don't bring anyone else with you. If you fail to follow this, your life will be at stake."
The emperor
This is definitely him. Yes, Kaiser means emperor. You woke up very early this morning and he had the audacity to ruin it?!
You can just ignore the letter but a part of you wanted to mess with him more. You waited there, at the same place looking around if you could catch a glimpse of his existence. But you felt nothing around you, did he manage to conceal his presence?
"Why don't you just come out—" Not bothering to finish your sentence, you realized that now you're clashing steels with him.
"So you really want to fight me? or kill me to be precise?" You stared at him intently, still gripping on the sword tightly.
"Are you really that dumb? Why did you come here if you really know my intention?" You don't know why, but there's actually a slight irritation in his tone.
You pulled your swords away, keeping it on your side. "I found you interesting. I don't know why you hated me so much. And I'm trying to mess with you more." You smiled, trying to get him even more pissed.
"Don't you dare give me that smile. My eyes are burning."
"Oh, why? Are there no faeries as beautiful as a mortal like me?"
"Stop that."
"Or what? You're going to let a mortal blood spill on your hands? Don't you.. feel disgusted?" Oh you're pouring the oil to the flames again.
"No— I'll let you go this time. Just.. don't get in my way again." You're about to make things worse but he quickly flew away, leaving you dumbfounded. You noticed that there's actually a slight change in his tone. Was it anger, or..maybe nervous?
• • • • • •• • • • • • •• • • • • • •• • • • • • •• •• •
Weeks passed. You didn't meet that creepy fae prince anymore. But, you feel different. His existence in your life make it more interesting.
"Maybe I should meet him, again." You thought.
You waited at the same spot, thinking he might appear again to start another fight and banter with you. "yes, he's not here. Why would I think he might be here again— oh."
"Hey,...y/n" He said your name. He fcking said it.
"Oh, hey. Ah, sorry for intruding your territory—" You're about to run away from him but that damn faerie is faster than you. He quickly blocked your way.
"Wait, I want you to stay here. For a while." There's a hint of pleading behind that voice.
"You're acting weird today, fae prince."
"You ...are still alive after these few weeks."
"Well, of course I am. Unless, if you come to assassinate me."
"Yeah....great." Why is he so awkward today? "I don't want you to be killed by other people than me." Trying to be nonchalant it seems.
"So I should be ready to die now? But I need to know the reason why you hate me so much."
He froze, and this wasn't the reaction you were expecting.
"No reason. I just despise every human—"
"You're lying." You said firmly.
"Yes, I am. I hate you so much because I feel a strong attraction towards you. You're haunting me and my mind. It's disgusting. My heart is burning everytime I see you. But it aches so much, when I stay here waiting for you to come, but no one's here."
"You were waiting for me?"
"Yes, because I want to have another fight with you. Another banter with you."
You mind was still a bit mess trying to process every word he said.
"So, to stop my hatred towards you. I want to make you mine."
"What?! Oh. So you're actually madly in love with me but you're still in denial." You said playfully, trying to tease the prince even though you're still unsure.
"Shut up. I really want to kill you right now. With my kiss." He was trying so hard to hide the smile behind those words.
"Wow. So cruel."
"Only towards you, my mortal princess."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:.·:*¨༺¨*:·.
#michael kaiser#kaiser x reader#kaiser x you#bllk kaiser#bllk x you#blue lock#bllk x reader#bllk#bllk fic
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4 Depression - Nanami
TW: Mentions of death, depression, suicide, starvation, attempted suicide and over dose. ('lill bitta angst)
Nanami sat silently in the empty train cart, head hung low and hands clasped tightly together. Today was another tough overtime mission. He wanted nothing more then to go home and see you, just hold you for hours on end.
The only thing left on his mind was how distant you had become. Last night you had fallen asleep, nothing in the fridge, nothing on the stove. It was like an empty apartment. He was going to talk to you about it but he had to leave early that morning so he resorted to talking to you that night.
The train stops and he walks out into the empty station. It was strange how everything was deserted. An oddly quiet day.
He continued to walk home exhausted and finaly turned the door knob into your apartment.
He breathed a sigh of relief until he noticed you on the dinning room floor, chest shallowly moving.
He rushes over to your side, propping you up on his knee. He gently pushes you hair out of your face before looking at your eyes with worry.
"Y/n what happened? What did you do?" He said
You slowly and shakily put your arm up, pointing to the empty yellow bottle of anti-depressants on the table.
"I want to wake up Kento, this dream is to lonely now." Your hand dropped to the ground causing a thud.
"Y/n, this isn't isn't dream! You need help." He reaches into his pocket to get his phone and call the emergency number.
"I want to die Ken, save me." You whispered as your eyelids got heavier.
"Hello? Hello? Why is no one picking up!?" He frustratedly throws the phone to the ground as you grasp onto his shirt collar.
"Kento I want to see you again." You finally mumble.
"Then you need to live Y/N I'll drive you to the hospital just hold on-"
"no" You whispered, breath slipping out your lips.
"No don't do this y/n, I need you, you can't leave me."
"I'll see you soon. After all i'm sure you've been waiting for me." You said before gasping at a sudden sharpness in your chest.
"Y/N! WHAT DO YOU MEAN? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?" He said trying to wipe his tears with his shirt sleve.
"Kento you left me. You left me in Shibuya alone. Did you mean it?"
"Y/n what are you talking about, wha-" He looks at his right hand, the skin is red and peeled. Burnt.
He goes to run his hand through his hair, none on the right side. What?
Oh. That's right. The last thing he saw was Yuji, standing there helplessly. He could remember feeling everything at once, not even blinking twice.
"Itadori, tell my wife I'll wait for her and...you got it from here."
Then the sounds of the train going over the rails. It was strange now, he dosen't remember his last mission, how he got on the train, how he left the house this morning.
"Can you- see me right now" he paused and looked down at you.
You weren't responding anymore.
He felt sick to his stomach, what had he done. He buried his face in your neck overwhelmed with...sadness.
"Don't cry anynore Kento, we're finally together again!" You said.
He felt hands gently press on his shoulders urging him to look behind him. But he didn't.
"I-i killed you y/n. Your dead because of me...I'm sorry" He let out a shakey breath.
"Why would you kill yourself because of me? What about every one you leave behind?" He said still holding your corpse.
"You didn't kill me Ken, I was all the time without you. As for everyone else, there's a few letters on the table explaining my death, will and wishes. All I want is to be here with you" you said wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, loke you didn't just kill yourself.
"No."
"No?" You said confused and the sudden change in deminour.
"Yoh don't die here, not yet. Listen to me y/n no matter how lonley you are or how bad you feel you cant do this...not to yourself or anyone." He sighed hugging your body closer to his.
"What are you talking about Ken, whats done is done. I told you at your funeral I'll never love again. My world has ended, this is the happiness I was looking for."
"I love you y/n, now live to the fullest teach those kids something and...don't die yet."
You woke up on the floor again. Tears filling your eyes. God damn it, you were so close.
"I miss you Kento." You slung your arm over your face.
"I miss you to, but until then." He said before walking off on the beach shore sighing in relife.
THANK YOU FOR READING ♡
AUTHOURS NOTE: This is appart of my 5 stages of greife series, part 4 obvi. Only one more part to go (acceptance with Yuji) and then this will all be over. Thanks for reading and have a good whatever time.
(Edit: If you wanted a happier ending you should have read this fic)
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk nanami#nanami x reader#kento x reader#kento x y/n#nanami kento#jjk angst
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Imagine being one of Dottore's clone significant other.
Imagine waking up one day only to find your lover whom rested with you last night gone, not even a note, his clothes were even left on side of cabinet, confusing you. He usually left a note whenever he left but now he did not. Still you don't really mind, he will comeback like he always does.
Imagine the anxiety as days passed by and your lover have yet to return home. You've been waiting for quite a few months now. No notes or words from him. You're getting worried now. Sure he have left for so long as you can remember just like the other times but at least during those times he have left a letter.
Imagine missing your lovers warmth. Although he have never showed you his whole face, although you knew he was hiding something from you, that never stopped you from loving him despite his weirdness and craziness.
Imagine finally having enough, tears running down your cheeks as you packed your things and his. Fine, if you won't come back then I'll just come and get you. You thought, wiping off the tears on your cheeks as you finished packing of your things.
Imagine going so far, so damn far just to reach Snezhnaya. The motherland of your lover, something you only manage to get out of him when you asked him, more on forced him to tell you about himself.
Imagine finding yourself among on of the pubs in Snezhanya, tears once again about to stain your cheeks but held it in. If I happened to dissappear, go to Snezhanya. There you will find your answer. Remembering your lovers words, you couldn't help but to let out a deep sign.
"I'm here now. So where are you?" You missed those red eyes of his, those soft light blue locks of his that you always run your hand through. His weird humor and intelligence. You love him, really.
Imagine walking out of the pub, going back into your rented place in the current nation you're in. Imagine the cold breeze that hits your exposed skin. Pulling your clothes closer as you try to keep warm, your breathe out.
Imagine walking across the road when you catch a familiar figure on your sight which cause you to stop and take a good look of the figure. The man from afar was talking to what it seems like was a subordinate. But you will not be mistaken by that hair color, that damn light blue locks.
Imagine just staring there wide eyes as the figure turn to his side, there was a familiar mask he was wearing and before you knew it. You run towards him, heart beating wildly on your chest.
Imagine getting over excited, recognizing your lovers figure and hair alongside the mask that he always worn, although it was a different type of mask, the pattern was still the same. So as soon as you manage to go near him, you pull him into a hug.
"Dottore! I missed you so much. Why did you leave with any notes!? Do you know how worried was I? I can't get a hold of you, I thought.. I though..-!" Before you could really cry into your lovers arm. A cold blade was pressed upon your neck.
Imagine just standing in there, not daring to move as you kept your hands on your lover still, silently clenching on his beautiful coat. Thinking you've done nothing wrong but oh dear, you do.
"I command you to step back and let go of The Doctor!-"
Imagine your lover finally moved, chuckling as he pushed away the head of the spear pressed upon your neck as much to his subordinate surprise. One of his hand warping around around your waist to pull you close to him.
Imagine a shiver down your spine upon hearing his chuckle. Sure it sounds the same, at the same time you knew it wasn't the same, and the way his hand rest on your waist, you knew something was wrong, he was familiar, definitely familiar but something doesn't seems right.
"Sir-?" "All of you go back in your station." Even his voice was the same, but something really wasn't right. It feels like your Dottore, at the same time he wasn't.
Imagine trying to pull away from him, only to have his arm warped around tightly around you. His other hand going under your chin to make you look up to him, faced with his masked face.
"Hmm? You seems to be going somewhere little one." He chuckle, making you look away from him as you utter "I.. I- uhm. On the second thought it seems that I have mistaken you for someone else- I.. I need to go.. Can you please let go of me? I'm really sorry."
Imagine him, except of letting you go, just chuckling with no signs of ever letting you go as in fact, take of his coat and place it into you. Adjusting its collar around your neck, he smirk behind his mask.
"Oh little one. You're not mistaken, you did call out my name did you?" He spoke, brushing back your (hair color) locks behind your ears that once again send a shiver down your spine.
Imagine him, holding your hand, pulling your flustered and confused figure with him back to his place, a smirk on his face you did not see as he was leading the way. It seems like one of his clones have found something worth and interesting, he thought.
Imagine him looking back at you, who was warped around his coat, guard up but rather unsuspecting of him as you stare longing and innocently at him, as if actually hoping for something.
Not bad, he thought. For once other than the gnosis, getting rid of his clones seems worth it.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2022°
#i got carried away again d@ng it#genshin impact#genshin imagines#dottore genshin#il dottore#dottore#dottore x reader#I mean I had this in mind for weeks now.
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Dear. Army
I went to bed last night thinking that we won't be getting anything substantial on 7/6 even though we had a calendar showing us this:
Only to wake up this morning to discover this was uploaded to Weverse at 10pm KST on 7.6.23 (and an hour later to YT).
youtube
Where do I start?
By saying how amazing JM is, how much I love him and his voice and this song.
This man is an angel pure and simple.
What did I notice?
First of all the big ass miss out by releasing it at 10 pm KST and not 10:13 pm. All it took was a little more thought put into it. Just a little more.
Well, the next most obvious is of course the absence of a certain Jeon Jungkook in person, performing this song together with JM.
And why do I say in person?
Because even though every other single background sound and vocal was wiped from this performance, JK's background vocals, although subdued, were still there.
Do I admit that I am disappointed?
Fuck yeah.
I'm not only disappointed, I'm actually furious. Not at JM. Not at JK. But at the friggin company that isn't allowing those two to be in one frame, and has been doing this for months now.
And if you pipe up and say: "well that's not true, we've seen them in content together", stop for one second and think about what you are saying, what content that was. Ot7 content (no choice they are all there - and when they were, thinking of the last BTB JM was as loud as fuck, can't help but wonder why - or not) and JM's dance practice BTB, in which we got to see less than a minute of JK at JM's SMF pt. 2 practice. And about that one: first of all, we probably wouldn't have gotten to see that one if not for JM and JK's interaction in JM's live mentioning JK came to see him practicing, and second of all, go have a lookie what was shown to us in that BTB (we don't even get to see JK arriving to the practice - perhaps not to show us not JM's reaction to him arriving nor just how long he stayed there) and compare it to the Like crazy MV BTB and Jhope visiting JM.
And I'm sure I said this before, how stupid this all is, when it's as clear as day (well, thank god for JK and his rebellious streak) that these two are as close as can be. Couple or not. So wtf is the company so scared of? At this point, with everything that JK has been doing in the past few months (and it's not only JK, JM is part of it too of course, but admittedly JK is just not giving a fuck anymore, while JM is doing what he can within his own respectful and very intelligent way) it's bloody ridiculous not having them in content together.
You may think I'm over reacting here, but this is a long time coming, this angry rant of mine. And this here, as expected as it was, it pushed me over the line.
Like I said, It's not like I didn't see this coming. I knew in my heart that they will do this. Try to nullify Letter's importance to JM and JK. Whitewash it as a song for army. But somewhere, somehow, I still had some hope. Well, that one was a bust. And I guess knowing it's coming doesn't change that ache in the gut once it actually does come.
I ask myself, would it have been too obvious in their books? JM and JK singing this together? But why? If it's an innocent letter to army? A token of JM's love for army?
I guess we all know the answer to that.
So, then I am sitting here and thinking about what I said about JM.
How intelligent he is. How he does things within the 'allowed' limitations but still gets the message through.
He did it with the song's name for starters. It's not "Dear Army", which would make it addressed to army, it's "Dear. Army". By adding the period between the Dear and the Army, you literally have him addressing 2: Dear (which we know exactly who that is) and Army.
We have said this over and over again. This song is a song for JK disguised as a song for army. Dear does come first out of the two after all, lol. No, but this is just how things have to be, as long as they remain closeted, and that is totally understandable. This is how JM is telling us all what his feelings are for JK. He's telling JK and us. I know that there are those who believe that the song is talking to us in some parts and to JK in others. I'm not one of them. I believe this whole song (and the original lyrics say it all in my opinion) is addressed to JK. He is Dear. He is the one the Letter was written to. But in saying that, it was given as a gift to us. JM is allowing us to see what they mean to each other. And a gift that certainly is.
I also think about the fact that JM in this performance stripped the song down. No wave sounds. No harmonica. None of his own background vocals. The guitar, it's not him playing (unlike in the actual recorded song). All making it a little less personal perhaps (while singing it to army for Festa). But then, he made sure to leave one thing, and that's JK's background vocals, as soft as they may be, they are still there.
2 things I get from that (and yes, this is art and it's open to interpretation):
First of all, he's stripped the song of it's intimate setting (settings that were him and JK and what was between them).
Second of all, he left JK's vocals in but softer. JK isn't there with him, but JM is still telling us that JK is an inseparable part of this song. That the song can still exist without the waves and the harmonica and his own background vocals, but not without JK. JM even goes quiet at one point during that verse so we can hear JK's vocals clearer.
Maybe that's me being over melodramatic here, but that's what I feel at the moment.
Did you notice how JM doesn't look once at the camera, at us, while singing the song? Not once. The first and only time he looks at the camera, at us, and smiles, is when the song ends.
You know why?
Cause the man, he ain't singing that song to us. He's singing it for us to hear, but we aren't the recipients.
Oh, and did you see the smile on his face once he starts the verse with "baby", yes, that same verse where JK joins in?
I'm sorry, but you can even hear the smile in his voice as he's singing "baby"...
I apologize that this post isn't all filled with joy and gratitude that we got to see JM performing Letter (Dear. Army). But I have always been honest with you guys, and that is not going to change.
Don't get me wrong. I'm over the moon that we got to hear JM sing this live.
But I'm also sad.
I'm sad because I know how important this song is to both JM and JK. I know that JK would have joined JM in a heartbeat if only given a chance to, or more so, if allowed to. There is no way under the sun that JK was given the chance and declined. NO WAY. So there you have it.
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I'm here
Summary: Natasha holds you as you fall apart.
Pairing: Natasha Romanov x Reader
(No use of descriptive words for Reader's appearance. If you do stumble across one, please let me know and I'll immediately find a more inclusive alternative)
Warnings: 18+, mental breakdown, work stress, feeling overwhelmed by everything, tears, lots of tears, hurt/comfort, fluff, hugs and kisses, Natasha being a perfect human being and pure soul
Word count: 1.1k
Author's note: Comforting fluff and angst for everyone who just needs a damn break from life. I wrote this for @romanoffsbish because I wanted to give you something nice 🖤 I hope you like it ☺️😳
...
Your hands blindly reach out for your caffeinated drink of choice, downing the last dregs before pushing the empty container to the side with a grumble.
You blow out an agitated sigh, eyes narrowing at the papers scattered across your desk. The black letters are barely readable in the dim light ofyour laptop screen.
Your eyes are burning, lids heavy as you fight to keep them open. You can't stop now. There's still too much to do, too many things to take care of. They just keep piling up, as soon as one thing is crossed off the list three new ones are added and you are drowning in the attempt to stay on top of the ever growing work load.
The sky outside your window is dim, the last rays of light vanishing on the horizon as the bright artificial lights of civilization take over the evening sky.
“Fuck,” you curse under your breath. Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you look at the mess of unfinished work spread out in front of you. Tears rise in your eyes and you tear your gaze away from the papers to stare at the ceiling.
Heavy breaths rattle in your chest as your throat starts closing up, the overwhelming pressure of life swamping you.
Your fingers desperately twist the fabric of your shirt and you can't keep the tears from falling. They roll hotly down your face, collecting at your trembling chin before sliding down your throat and wetting the collor of your shirt.
“Fuck,” you curse breathlessly, your voice shaky and unsteady. “I can't do this anymore. I just can't.”
Giving in to the tears you slump forward, elbows resting on the desk as you bury your face in your clammy hands. There's no holding back the mental breakdown bearing down on you with crushing might.
“God, I can't,” you sob, shoulders shaking with grief and overwhelm.
Broken sobs shake your body, tears dripping down your face, snot clogging up your nose and mixing with the tears.
You are so caught up in losing your mind, you don't hear the scraping sound of the front door or the whisper of quiet footsteps drawing closer.
“Sweetheart?”
You jerk up, startled by the sudden sound of a voice. Your heart starts pounding in your chest and you do your best to wipe your teary, snotty face with your shirt before glancing over your shoulder.
Natasha stands in the doorframe, her soft, red hair pulled up into a messy bun. She eyes you with concern, a sad slant to her full lips as she studies the part of your face that she can see from her position.
“Hi,” you choke out nasally, still trying to compose yourself. Natasha isn't supposed to see you like this. Weak, messy, desperate.
“What's going on, sweetheart?” she calls out softly and approaches until she stands next to you. One of her warm hands comes to rest on your shoulder, but you turn your head away, not wanting to reveal your puffy, tear-stained face.
Natasha is having none of it. She pulls your chair away from the desk and reaches out to grasp you chin between her fingers, forcing you to face her.
“What has you so upset, hm? What can I do to make it better?”
“It's nothing,” you try to deflect, squirming in her grip. But she doesn't allow you to turn away.
“It's not nothing if it makes you cry. Tell me.”
“It's stupid. Just... too much work. I have so many things to do and I don't know where to start. No matter what I do, I can't stay on top of all of it and it just keeps getting more,” you start, reluctant at first, but as soon as the first few words are out, it's as if the floodgates have been opened.
“I barely have time to relax, all I can think about the tasks still waiting for me, the neverending list of things that need to be done and I just can't- I'm tired, I'm so tired. I can barely get out of bed in the morning but I still can't sleep when I go to bed at night. There's just too much, too much to do, too many thoughts in my head, too much- I can't I don' wanna-”
The breakdown is in full swing now and the tears resurface as you crumple under Natasha's gaze.
The red-head moves quickly, pushing her hands under your arms to keep you from folding in on yourself completely. She hoists you to your feet before taking your place on the chair and pulling you into her lap.
“Shhh, it's okay. I got you,” she whispers, one hand stroking up and down your shaking back while the other holds the back of your head, tucking you comfortably into the crook of her neck.
You mindlessly burrow into her embrace, arms winding around her body to have something to hold onto while you fall apart.
Natasha holds you through all of it, the tears, the choked sobs and violent trembling shaking your exhausted body. She coos calming words at you, kissing the top of your head and humming to you to bring you down to earth.
Eventually, your sobs quieten down, tears slowing and allowing you to see more clearly.
“You're okay, I'm here,” Natasha mumbles, giving your body a little squeeze.
You stay silent, head tucked away in the crook of her neck as your breathing slowly calms down and grows more even, matching Natasha's steady breaths.
“I- I just want a nice, easy life. Is that too much to ask,” you croak out tearily, voice muffled against Natasha's skin.
The red-head hums, her hands slowly caressing your back.
“Not at all,” she says after a moment of silence.
You scoff, though there's no bite behind it. You're too wrung out to feel upset.
“Then why is everything so difficult? Why is everything more than I can handle,” you ask, not expecting an answer. Natasha gives one anyway, but not one you expect.
“We'll figure it out, love. Make plans for you, charts and lists to keep track of things. Keep everything managable,” she says and kisses the side of your head. “I'm here for you.”
The sincerity in the red-head's voice makes you tear up again. You cling to her and rub your face on your shoulder, brushing away the tears that threaten to fall.
“Thank you,” you mumble and turn your head enough to kiss her neck.
“You're welcome, sweetheart,” Natasha replies softly, slowly rocking the two of you in your desk chair. “Now rest. I have you.”
Closing your tired eyes, you do as Natasha tells you, drifting off into a deep slumber in the loving embrace of your girlfriend.
...
:'D
I need Natasha so bad, pleeaaase *whines*
#natasha romanov#natasha romanov x reader#natasha romanov fic#comfort fic#angst#hurt/comfort#all the comfort#and love#drabble#i think#kinda long for a drabble#one-shot it is
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A Blessed Day.
pairing: Otto Hightower x Reader
warnings: FEM!reader, labour, kinda angsty? but otto loves u :3
note: i wrote this in like 30 minutes and did not get it beta-read or anything, so, its not the BEST
You are the youngest sister of Rhaenrya Targaryen, married off to Otto Hightower right before he is sent back to Old Town and as his wife, you follow him. You believe he does not love you as much as he does his first lady wife, the late mother of his two children.
You force yourself to be happy with this, that this was the best you could get. Always in the shadow of the Realms Delight, you envied your sisters' reputation but you still loved her more than your envy. So you've resigned yourself to being Ser Otto Hightower's second lady wife, while in Oldtown you fall pregnant, your first child.
Whilst Otto slept you worry yourself to the bone, fearing you may also meet your mother's fate. The months of your long pregnancy were delightful, with many gifts from fellow Hightowers, gifts sent from your sister and father. Even a letter from your now step-daughter, Alicent, wishing you the best.
Whilst the moon is high in the black sky, you grip your bloodied bedsheets, screaming into the fabric as you try to push your child out to no avail. You are on your knees, using the bed as support, the position was suggested by the midwife; to help the babe slip out with little to no tears. Your husband, stood outside the door, listening and waiting, holding his hands together and his head low as he listens to your screams of terror and pain.
You weep for your mother, for your sister. You wished to feel their hands combing through your hair, shushing your cries and wiping your tears. The air is punched from your lungs as another contraction comes again,
"Push!!" The Maester screams, your midwife holding your hips to still your shaking. A silent scream turns into an ear-piercing shriek, your strength had run out, leaving you sobbing.
"Otto.." you whisper, you try to push yourself up, quickly pulled back down to the floor by the Maester. Midwife wiping your sweat with a cloth, "O-Otto!"
The door is pushed open and you see your husband in his robe, his eyes widen at the scene. Having never seen you in such a state, "Please.. Please Otto, I need you." begging as you reached your hand out to him.
He is quick to your side, grasping your hand in between his own. He studies your eased expression, your cheeks stained with tears. Hair sticking to your sweaty forehead,
"I'm here.. I'm here" he reassures, retracting a hand to pet your head, trying to console you. His hand drifts down to the back of your neck, massaging the tense muscles.
"i can't do it, i can't" you weep, "I want my mother! I want my sister here, i need them! i-" Your muscles tense up again as your body forces you to push, you feel the Maesters hand go into you and you scream.
"Shh shh, it's okay, you're fine, just breathe, my dear, breathe" You listen to him, trying to take deep breaths, burying your face in the sheets as you grit your teeth and push again.
The pain is agonizing, like a fire in your cunt that never ends. The fire spreads to your back and legs as you practically roar like a dragon, pushing all of your physical and mental power in one last push.
Then the room falls silent.
A cry.
A cry breaks the room's silence, and the midwife laughs in relief. You go limp as you sigh in relief, limbs like soup.
"You've done it, the hard part is over." Otto whispers, kissing your temple, leaning his forehead against your head. One hand still holding yours and the other rubbing your back,
"What.. what is it" you whisper, Otto lifts his head and looks at you as you turn your head to face him, "are they a girl?" Otto looks at the Maester, who now returns with the babe swaddled up.
"Congratulations, you have a baby girl"
Your tears turn into a happy cry, a girl. You were right, a girl.
"I told you.. I was right" Otto turns to look at you again, a captivated look across his face. He kisses your cheek, instead of turning to grab the babe like you expected him to, he says something you never expected out of his mouth.
"I love you, My darling."
#hotd x reader#house of the dragon x reader#otto hightower x reader#otto hightower imagine#otto hightower fanfic#otto hightower x y/n#Otto Hightower
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Presence (Twilight x GN!Reader) 🖤✨
A/N: Two fics in the same 24 hours??? Am I okay??? Yes, I'm on vacation. I have energy to write lmao. Eat it up while you can folks. Enjoy! 💖💖💖💖💖
TW: Mentions of depression, self-isolation and general stress on the reader.
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Twilight noticed you'd been a little... off lately. A lot of things had happened over the last few days, and everyone was a bit on edge; the whole team being ambushed around almost every turn, you having trouble keeping up due to some kind of medical issue he wasn't understanding (which terrified him, of course, though he'd struggle to hide it for fear of overwhelming you), and not to mention Wars' and Legend's near constant bickering over trivial matters due to all the stress... But your breaking point seemed to come when the postman delivered a letter to you.
He'd watched as you read it, everyone else watching on as well as it seemed like the emotion drained from your very being. It worried him beyond words. His heart shattered at the sight of you so visibly... emotionally numb. And he'd asked if you were alright, but he knew he could only do so much-- he'd never want to push you.
So instead, he did what he thought was best: he managed to convince the Old Man to let the chain stay at an inn for a few days to give you time to recover from... whatever was going on with you. Twilight soon learned that even though Time didn't show it, he also seemed troubled by your sudden change in demeanor.
He was very thankful now more than ever that the Old Man was a good one at heart. If he hadn't been, the Rancher knew he wouldn't have let you rest.
So here they sit, him and the Old Man, together with the rest of the chain in the inn's dining hall for dinner. The only empty chair was yours, he noted with growing anxiety. You hadn't shown your face all day today...
"...Are they still asleep?" Time questioned him softly. "...This isn't good. They shouldn't be alone when they're feeling like this... It only serves to make things worse in the long run," he sighs.
Twilight nodded. He knew you had a habit of isolating when you weren't feeling your usual self, but... skipping all three meals today was unacceptable. He stood from the table suddenly, without finishing his own food; he'd been so worried about you he couldn't eat much of it anyway.
"I'm... I'm gonna go check on 'em," he states firmly, unable to mask the concern in his voice.
To his surprise, the Old Man didn't try to stop him; Time simply nodded, speaking softly.
"...Why don't you fix them a plate and bring it up? I know they may not want to eat, but even something is better than nothing. They need their strength..."
The Rancher nodded again, fixing you a a decent portion and bringing it up to your room.
When he reached your room, the one that the Old Man was kind enough to let you share with Sky (someone he knew wouldn't bother you)... He paused, his ears twitching slightly at the sound of soft sobs coming from the other side. His heart broke, and a lump formed in his throat; he was so worried about you. He hated to see you in such a state... Nevertheless, he knocked softly.
"(Y/n)? ...Can I come in...?"
The crying hushed immediately, and your shaky voice reached his ears. "W-What do you want...?"
He paused, trying to think of the best way to respond.
"...(Y/n), we're worried about you, darlin'. Can I come in please?"
...Silence. He sighed; he knew he shouldn't barge in on you, but--
"...Fine..."
He let out a sigh of relief at your answer. He opened the door softly, carrying the plate of still-warm food; the room was dark. No lights, the curtains were drawn... Oh, you poor thing, he thinks to himself.
"...I'm turnin' on the light, sweet thing," he says, flicking on the light and watching as your figure huddles deeper under the blanket. He sighs, setting the food down on the nightstand and taking a seat beside you on the bed.
"...Can I ask what's been goin' on with you lately? You've been so sad, and it worries me to see you like this, hun. It worries all of us..." he says softly, placing his hand on your hair and rubbing the top of your head softly with his thumb.
He could've sworn your voice broke a little as you speak again in a softer tone than ever. "...I don't wanna talk about it..."
He sighs, but nods. "...That's okay, darlin'. I won't push you to talk if you don't want to..." he mumbles, still stroking your hair.
"...Can I at least stay here for a bit? I haven't seen your pretty face all day, sweetums."
He hears you sniffle, but he can see you nod. It's hard to make out at first, with your figure huddled deeply under the comforter, but he smiles when he realizes you'd said yes.
He shifts, now sitting cross-legged on the bed beside you, his hand remaining on your head. He sighs, thinking about what he could do to make you feel better.
...He'd be lying if he said he didn't wish you were roomed with him for the night. He wants to make sure you're okay, but he also knows that Sky is perfectly capable of being there for you should you want it.
...And he says 'want', because goddesses know you definitely need it.
"...You feel like eatin'?" he asks softly, voice remaining low as he leans a little closer. He sighs again when he hears you mumble a weak "Not really..."
"...Yeah, I figured..."
He sighs for what now has to be the eighteenth time. He wants you to eat; he knows you haven't all day, and it's past 5 PM now...
"...I know you don't want to, doll, but... could you at least take a little bite? For me? Pretty please?" he asks as sweetly as he can muster.
He hears you sigh, and for a split second he's worried he's pushed you too far; but to his pleasant surprise, you sit up, reaching for the plate.
Heh. Can't say no to me, can you lovebug?
He smiles; the way your hair's all messy and the tired look on your face makes you cute, but in a heart-breaking sort of way. He watches intently as you slowly pick up the fork, poking at the food; and his smile grows more as you finally take a bite.
He places his hand back on the top of your head. "Good pup," he chuckles softly, laughing a little more as you huff at him.
You must've finally realized you were hungry, because he sits in silence for several minutes as you manage to finish off a little more than half the plate.
"There you go," he says softly with a tender smile. "Feelin' a little better?"
You nod, setting the plate back on the nightstand and pulling the blanket back up to your shoulders.
"...You're free to go back to sleep if you want, darlin'. I just wanted to check up on you," he says, subconsciously leaning a little closer to your face as his hand drops to your shoulder. "...Do you want me to stay here, or should I leave?"
"You can stay..." you say softly. He's overjoyed at your response, grinning like a lovestruck dumbass (because he totally is. Not that he's admitting it or anything. Not at all.)
"...I can do that. But you're cuddlin' with me whether you like it or not, lovebug."
He laughs as you huff again, rolling your eyes this time. "Fine..."
His grin only grows, lying down and pulling you down with him. Gently, he pulls your head onto his chest, resting his hand on the top of your head as he noses your hair.
"See? I'm not so bad," he chuckles softly.
"I guess not..." you sigh, and he runs his finger through your hair.
"...Don't worry, sweet thing. Sometimes you just need someone else to take care of you when you can't do it yourself....
"...And I'll be that person if you'll just let me. Don't worry your pretty little head about a thing, darlin'. I'm here..." he says tenderly, stroking your hair.
He's so warm and his presence is so comforting, it's not long before you're on the verge of sleep again. A soft chuckle rumbles in his chest.
The last thing you note in your half-asleep state, is that you could've sworn you felt his lips on your forehead.
"Sleep, little lovebug. I'll be here when you wake up."
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Tagging friends so they see and maybe are proud of me lmao
@trippygalaxy @the-cucco-nuggie (you might like this one. I know how much you like hylian jacob black from twilight)
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omg #2 from the arranged marriage prompts but with grimmichihime, where ichigo and orihime are already in a relationship and maybe even engaged but a war with hueco mundo/aizen faction leads to an arranged marriage deal where orihime is sworn to grimmjow in the hopes of ending the war... the drama of it all
2. Royalty AU - To end a war
IT'S 2K LOOOONG sobs. also do not ask me about the worldbuilding i don't want to think about it because i WILL try to figure it out andm qvbv bqjhrvb f. yes. that.
anyway.
--
"You ain't supposed to be here, princess."
The girl's lower lip quivered; her brows scrunched down. A child's attempt to appear fierce. Grimmjow snorted, leaning his hip on the fancy chest of drawers he'd been saddled with for this farce. Embroidered shit from Hueco Mundo and local kimono bundled side by side, a present he hoped to never use again.
"I know. I thought--"
"You thought you'd see me without a chaperone and make double sure we got hitched?"
The twisted tangle of her hands came apart into fists. "No!"
Hooo. Grimmjow tilted his head, regarding her. She had a baby face; he'd have thought her sixteen instead of twenty had he not read the reports. Her hands clenched in her high-waisted, pleated skirt and he couldn't help but notice that it had been rigged so the hem was higher, easier to move in; underneath were dress uniform pants and laced-up ankle boots. Probably how she'd managed to climb his balcony -- but for a princess she sure wore some foreign style underthings.
"No?"
"No," she repeated, anguished, and then breathed in and out to steady herself, eyes closed. "That isn't why. I just -- there hasn't been a moment to talk to you directly, and I think -- you probably don't know. About me."
"Ah. Last-ditch attempt to have me break it off."
"I'm not actually a princess, you know."
She lifted her chin like she expected shock, anger. Grimmjow laughed. "Oh yeah?"
"I'm not!"
"You got the mark of the Soul King. Right? One of his fancy powers."
"Yes, but -- Grimmjow-san, that's not. I'm a commoner, I-- I was legitimised last year. We don't even know what branch I come from for sure." She met his eyes, sad but resolute. "My mother was a prostitute. This marriage alliance -- it's an insult."
... Haa. He reclined against the wall, arms crossed loosely, watching her. Trying to be brave, to be honest and good. She was gonna be devoured alive.
"I'm only a duke as a way to keep my rebellion in check."
"--Ah?"
He snorted. "Don't even got a single drop of blood in common with Aizen, but I had enough support that he needed a way to break my power base in two and put a leash on me. So now the anti-royalty have ditched me and the rest have been fuckin' appeased by thinking I have a chance at the throne whenever he kicks it, but he won't. Guy's fully intending to become immortal somehow."
His voice had gone bitter by the end. He swallowed it; pointless to show too much emotion to someone so ill-suited to court. She would never keep the secret tight enough.
He was gonna have to carry her back home to the royal palace and be saddled with keeping her in one piece, though. Another weight chained to his ankle, disguised as an attempt to make him more palatable, give him more appeal to the cowards of the capital.
"So he knows..." she whispered, a slow horror rising as she started to understand the implications. "He won't break it off."
"Nah. Gonna wait until we're married and then make a fuss about suddenly discovering it to gain an advantage against your country, probably." Or take Grimmjow down a peg by starting rumors at court. Or both. Aizen was nothing if not efficient.
His fiancée (how fucking alien a word, related to him) pressed both hands against her face and muttered to herself for a bit. Grimmjow left her at it. He probably had letters to read--
"I'll run away," she blurted out.
Grimmjow gave her a nonplussed look. "What the fuck. Who do you think is gonna hunt you down then?"
"You won't find me."
He pushed away from his perch, took a few slow, gliding steps toward the girl. She didn't step back, chin up, feet set, like a glowing ball of bunion-healing power was gonna keep her safe from him.
... She really thought he wouldn't find her, too.
Grimmjow had never lost a quarry and the whole continent knew it. She didn't seem that stupid.
"I thought you wanted to stay home, but that's not even it, huh," he mused, voice low, looming to see how much pressure she could take. "What's your reason? Can't be your previous fiancé."
Shocked indrawn breath. "You knew about him?"
"Sure. Had to know if you were gonna pop out a really premature baby, didn't I."
The girl flushed, said nothing. He didn't even get the impression that this was why she was so desperate to stay home -- that she had celebrated her previous engagement too early.
"But you can't marry him and live in his back garden, now can you," he kept going, testing, searching. "The fuck are you thinking? Think some bland civilian schmuck would give you a nice little life hidden away in the attic?"
The way her eyelids twitched on certain words needed to be trained out of her at some point.
Her guy, she believed wholeheartedly, could and would hide her -- had the ability, or had the connections; had the determination. Her guy would take the risk of putting the Four Noble Houses on his ass...
Because they were already riding it anyway.
Grimmjow barked out a laugh. She stared at his widening grin, and her hair pins pulsed with glowing gold, like now she was properly wary of him -- of a man from an enemy country who outweighed and out-reached her and of whom everybody would say he had a right to do to her whatever the fuck he wanted.
A pretty girl like her had to know his kind of man was dangerous, and yet she was only afraid now.
"You guys are in the rebellion."
He was only barely surprised when the window swung open and a man in battered samurai armor plunged sword-first at him.
He was slightly more surprised when the rejected beau -- some nobody from the cadet branch of a fallen noble house, from the reports -- managed a slash and a swipe at a surprise angle that clanged hard against Grimmjow's not-so-decorative vambrace.
Nice.
Grimmjow drew his blade, and while the man was distracted eyeing it, kicked him solidly in the guts, folding him in two. No armor but two pauldrons to get in his way; the room was large enough to maneuver. He rolled low, swiped his feet out from under him as the guy wobbled back up, lunged --
Got kicked off in a way that sent him crashing through a folding screen. The wood splintered noisy like a gunshot. He rolled to the side, behind the low table, kicked it upright to break the guy's charge and then shouldered it straight onto him. Ahh, noisy, so noisy, Aizen was going to be so pissed off. Grimmjow couldn't stop grinning.
Their swords rang against each other, sliding until they locked at the guard. Grimmjow leaned in to smile. The guy had the same kind of forthright, justice-blind eyes as the girl. Well-matched pair of idiots. He hated it.
He shoved forwards with his superior weight, feinted left, right, punched. Was a little appreciative whent his fist was almost blocked, parried enough to lessen the impact.
But the guy's sword was longer than his, so now that Grimmjow was under his guard he was fucked. He aimed the point of his sword--
Golden god-light, impassable. Jarring his arm to the shoulder. He tried to go around the side and it only grew to cut him off again, and then suddenly it was blooming out like a sail catching wind and shoving him back.
His fiancée stepped forward, hands joined at the fingertips before her chest. "Don't fight!"
Ah. Not just a small healing ability, then. The powers inherited straight from the Soul King seemed to be very random when all put next to each other, but also... people usually didn't get more than one. Interesting. Did Aizen know? Was he trying to sneak her out from under the Seireitei's nose? Or had she managed to hide it even from him? Grimmjow pressed a hand to the barrier and while it didn't hurt him, it also didn't yield at all.
"No fighting! Sh-- Kurosaki-kun, we know things about him too. He won't -- he won't sell us out. Right?"
He watched her give soft entreating looks to her old boyfriend, the boyfriend slowly shift to stand before her. "I guess" was the first thing Grimmjow heard in his voice, quiet and roughened by doubt and effort.
"Don't know why you're pretending not to be a Shiba when you could be the clan head's ginger body double."
"Well see, usually when I'm committing treason I wear a mask," Kurosaki-Shiba replied dryly, and discreetly eyed the room for an escape route.
Grimmjow had turned them around, though; he stepped right in the middle of the wide open window, opening his arms, and crooked his fingers invitingly.
"I... don't suppose you're planning to let us pass through."
"You can come right into my arms, sweetheart." He turned his wrist so the edge of his sword would catch the lamplight.
The next look was toward the door, but the noise they'd made had not been subtle. The corridor was filling up with hotel employees and guards from Grimmjow's country -- who knew better than to barge in without his say-so, but weren't going to disperse without having put eyes on him either.
Shiba's sword stayed up for long seconds of narrow-eyed wary thought before the point flagged down. "Fine. What the fuck do you want."
What did he want... Hm. Shiba had good fighting instincts. Could be better, though, sharper. The princess was a little sneakier and a lot more powerful than she seemed. Their righteous fervor was gonna grate on him something awful very soon...
Aizen had a leash on him, but the only real leash on them would be through Grimmjow, and they didn't like him enough to stay their hands out of fear for his safety.
He dropped his sword, tossing it onto an abandoned sitting pillow. Baffled, the lovebirds stared at him with dumbly blinking eyes.
Grimmjow smiled, slow and languorous, as he undid his waistcoat and tugged loose his shirt laces, letting the cloth slide open over his chest.
A twitch, a yelp, two blushes.
Cackling, Grimmjow tackled them both around the waist and let his momentum carry the three of them right into his bed.
"Whoa whoa what the fuck?!" "Iyaa, wait, wait--" "What are you--"
The mattress bounced under their combined weights. Cackling, Grimmjow sat up, straddling them both, and wasn't shy about digging in his knees. "Welp, looks like we're all compromised now. Gonna have to marry you both."
The shriek that came out of Shiba was higher than even the princess' voice could reach. He seemed to have switched from trying to punch Grimmjow's nose in to pressing both hands to his chest to keep him away, as if Grimmjow was even seriously trying to lean close. Virgin bottom behavior. Even the girl was still earnestly trying to knee his balls back inside his body.
"Ahh, shut up, I'll scratch your backs if you scratch mine. Yeah? We can all benefit from this."
And he threw an abandoned book at the door, making it clank obviously enough that the guards would decide it was sufficiently like a knock and check in on him.
As the door creaked open, he decided to indulge his captives' panicked squeakings -- had to start things off on the right foot if he didn't want to have to deal with too many knives in his household, after all. Princess was yammering about how he couldn't marry Kurosaki-kun who wasn't a maiden at all and boys couldn't marry boys and anyway she didn't want him to be a concubine but you couldn't have two main wives--
"Ah, don't worry, in my country you can marry whoever the fuck you want." Behind the bed the room was filling up with rubbernecking guards, come in to stop an assassination attempt and discovering a tryst instead. Ignoring them utterly, he grinned into her wide, wide eyes, her scarlet face. "It's gonna piss everyone off, I can't wait."
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May the force be with you
Cal Kestis x GN reader
Summary: Y/N has started to have feelings for Cal but doesn't know how to confess, maybe a love letter will help.
Warnings: Fluff time 😎
A/N: Hello, I apologize for not having included the "readmore" before (in fact I don't know if I did it correctly because they had never asked me before) and another apology if the story is not very accurate to the Star Wars universe (I'm not into it )
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Maybe you always had those feelings for your friend. From the first minute you saw that red head and freckles like a strawberry. Yes, that must have been it. These feelings were not new, but even so in recent times they have intensified. Oh, yes indeed.
It all started in the last most recent mission. They were on the Mantis trying to look for the tombs of the three wise men. The map already had the exact coordinates, the destination was Dathomir. They got off the ship and headed towards some dark caves. It was wet and Cal had to light the way with his saber. You were lagging behind and the shadows were wrapping around you like a thin gauze, you ran in fear to his side and squeezed his hand, Cal turned his head towards you in surprise but then gave you a warm smile. He knew you were scared of the dark.
The faithful BD1 was clinging to Cal's shoulder. We went deeper and in a moment the place seemed more illuminated, the walls were no longer rocks but fat roots that rose from the floor to the ceiling. BD1 made a beep and quickly got off the redhead's shoulder and ran towards some kind of climbing wall and stopped looking at both of you.
"Looks like here is". Said the freckled boy with his hands on his hips looking up.
The white droid made an affirmative metallic noise, Cal smiled widely.
"Okay little one, hop on"
The boy stretched out his arm and the small droid climbed up to him to cling to his back. Then he saw you without stopping smiling
"Ladies first"
Cal extended his arm like a gentleman inviting you in as you bowed briefly, laughing. You held on tightly to the wall and started climbing it with Cal underneath you. He tried not to look up, blushing slightly. When you reached the top you saw him climb and with each step the muscles in his arms flexed and bulged, you had to shake your head to concentrate on something else.
Unfortunately the route did not end there, they had to cross to the other side and climb a wall that reached another rock. You approached the edge, you thought about whether you could jump but the gap was very long, you swallowed worriedly. Cal came to your side, reassuring you.
"Hey don't worry, I'm here with you"
His closeness and his affectionate squeeze on your arm made your cheeks redden and a chill ran down your neck. Of course he had no idea about all these sensations that were going through your body.
"I'll cross first, so you can see how I did it, okay?"
He offered generously and you nodded. For him it was easy, he was much more agile and flexible than you. Even when he was a simple worker he could jump and do pirouettes, you can't. With the grace and ease of a monkey he arrived at the other side in a second, then he looked at you with a nod of head inviting you to cross. You were still afraid, you tried to see how he did it but it had been so fast. Seeing that you were hesitant, Cal shouted at you, encouraging you.
"Nothing will happen to you, trust me, if you fall I'll catch you."
Those words, that simple phrase melted your heart. Now you were sure, you were in love with him. The tenderness with which he said that made you want Cal in your life more than ever so he could protect you. A little calmer you approached the wall and after steadying your feet you began to move to the right, always concentrating on not looking down. Don'tlookdowndon'tlookdown. Cal followed your every movement with religious attention, prepared for any possible fall. When you were about a meter from the edge of the other rock Cal advised you to try to push yourself to the right and jump. Your face contorted into a mask of terror, jump? Was he crazy or what?
"Just trust me!"
Of course you trusted him, you would even trust him with the most powerful weapon because you knew he wouldn't hurt you with it. You took a deep breath and followed his advice. You took a clean and jerk with your entire body flexed and jumped to the right, stretching your entire body and your arms trying to grab the edge of the rock. With horror you saw how your fingers barely touched the surface and you began to fall. An anguished scream calling your friend's name came from your throat, tearing the silence of the place. The freckled man quickly positioned himself at the edge of the rock as if his life depended on it and held you firmly by the wrists. The two of you looked at each other for a few seconds while your body hung and swung in the air. You were scared, but Cal was frowning with effort and huffing, but he couldn't stop a mocking smile from appearing at the corner of his lips.
"I promised you I'd catch you didn't I?"
A nervous smile appeared on your face. Very carefully he lifted you up and placed a hand on your back so you could sit up. Being so close to him created revolutions in your head and hormones. His gaze inspecting you up and down for possible injuries as he asked you over and over again if you were okay made you feel weak, your legs felt weak as if at any moment they could shake and fall with your knees hitting the cold, hard floor as you hugged his waist and you gave him looks with the eyes of a lost puppy, drunk, needy, desirous and burning with love saying "I am yours"
As your breathing quickened slightly Cal seemed satisfied with his inspection and they continued on their way with BD1 in the lead. You were still a little distracted by all your intoxicating and somewhat lewd thoughts about your friend that you didn't realize he was walking away so you shook your head and trotted after him.
The second time Cal gave you butterflies in your stomach (without him even knowing) was in Kashyyyk. A holocron had guided us there for the same reason, to find information about the Zaffo. Already on the ship we were preparing to land, Cal put on some of his ponchos because that day was cooler, you didn't want to be a weirdo who spies on people but you couldn't help but look askance when he put on his poncho in front of you. It looked so cute on him. They jumped off the Mantis that had already boarded and landed on the ground. It was a quite jungle place full of bushes and wild plants. You headed again to a kind of cave but this time illuminated because it had no roof, Cal and BD1 never left your side. You could see that there was a giant spider web on the ground, how disgusting.
"Be careful, there may be giant spiders here." Cal said, pointing to the spider web that you had seen and a look of concern tried to appear on your face but you suppressed it.
Another time you had to climb a wall, by this time you had already practiced jumping and climbing so you could handle this. When they reached the top they saw a kind of machine that Cal touched with his hand and a long rope was deployed above you, a zip line.
"BD1 would you do the honors?"
Cal looked at the droid that was on the ground, when it did a small cartwheel and then jumped on the redhead, Cal laughed amused.
"Wait, wait, do the honors for what?" You asked suspiciously and confused.
"Oh right, I hadn't told you. We will cross to the other side with the help of BD1"
The freckled redhead pointed to his little droid friend and he jumped up to grab the cable. BD1 beeped letting them know it was ready and waiting for them to grab onto it. You stepped back, if there was something that scared you more than the darkness it was heights, you had a lot of vertigo. Cal turned to look at you and saw you so serious and scared that he approached you worriedly to take your hand. And there the butterflies began to flutter in your stomach. He guided you towards the zip line slowly with tenderness, love and patience as if you were a child.
"Come, hold on to me." Cal raised your arms to put them behind his shoulders. My God, you felt like you were going to faint. You shyly wrapped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his strong arm around your waist, pressing you closer to him, you gasped in surprise.
"I'm sorry". He said modestly
"No!, I mean, It-It's ok"
Your head was on the opposite side of his, looking back and although you couldn't see his face you felt him smile in amusement.
"Alright, are you ready?"
Resting your head in the crook of his neck you nodded wordlessly. He affirmed his grip and when he told BD1 that they were ready you closed your eyes squeezing them. BD1 moved quickly and soon you felt that your feet were no longer touching the ground, you screamed scared but you knew that nothing would happen to you having Cal by your side. You opened your eyes a little and adrenaline invaded you, your hair was shaking from the speed and your breathing was short, you felt a rollercoaster in your stomach. When they reached the other side you felt a little dizzy as you got out of Cal's arms, you staggered a little still in shock and he quickly grabbed you by the shoulders.
"all in order?"
Cal looked at you attentively looking for any sign of discomfort but you were smiling almost laughing, the zip line ride had been more exciting than you thought and soon fear gave way to excitement. You looked at him and nodded, your hair was messy. He laughed and gently smoothed your rebellious locks that were sticking to your face, gently brushing them aside. The soft touch of his fingertips on your face and forehead sent an electric current again, this time throughout your spine. And damn, he didn't even know it and maybe he never will.
And here you were now, sitting at the desk in your room with BD1 staring at you sitting on the table to one side and with an old paper like a papyrus and a pencil in your hand and your mind blank. You sighed frustrated, you thought it was time to confess to Cal but you weren't good at talking, expressing your feelings. When you wanted to speak to him you couldn't find the right words. But you were better at writing than talking, a love letter would be an easier way to put your feelings in order without the pressure of seeing Cal face to face. Or so you thought. You still didn't know how to start the letter.
Dearest Cal
You huffed in annoyance, it was too formal. After all, he was your friend, not a stranger. You tapped the tip of your pencil against your head, thinking of new ideas. BD1 next to you had no idea what you were doing, you certainly didn't understand his language but it wasn't difficult to figure out what he was saying since the white droid looked with his head tilted at the paper and then looked at you.
"I'm writing a letter to Cal." BD1 looked at you as if waiting for an explanation.
"Yes, to Cal. A...love letter". The little droid jumped excitedly, you laughed.
"It's been a while since I had to confess my feelings to him but I didn't feel up to it, so I thought a letter would be easier. But don't tell him anything, promise."
BD1 nodded his head standing firm which made you smile tenderly. You closed your eyes and exhaled air through your mouth. You decided you wouldn't think so much and just let the pencil guide your hand. After letting your emotions and thoughts flow, the letter looked more or less like this
Cal
I hope this letter reaches you on time and is not too late. I can no longer hide what I feel for you, I think I like you. And not as a friend, I really like you. I don't intend for you to feel the same way about me, I just wanted to let out what I feel and clear my mind and heart.
Your always friend, Y/N
You put your pencil down shakily as you folded the paper into four. With your heart pounding in your chest like a drum, you could only hope that Cal wouldn't take it the wrong way, and even better, if he also felt the same as you. Suddenly you heard footsteps behind you and your friend's voice calling for his company droid. Pale, you quickly and clumsily shoved the paper into your pocket just before Cal entered your room.
"Hey here you are, I looked for you all over the ship!". He came up behind you as you turned around in your seat with a forced smile, dying of nerves inside. On the other hand the droid gave a happy beep. Cal noticed you and added, smiling.
"And it's good to see you too, we'll wait for you for dinner"
You responded that you would be there with an awkward laugh. Cal walked away from your room and you breathed a sigh of relief again, BD1 was still attentive to you.
"Here, take this to Cal, leave it in his room where he can see it please. I'm counting on you."
You handed him the folded letter and as if he were an agent on a special mission, the little robot ran towards the freckled man's room without being seen. You stood up laughing but then the smile faded from your face. What if Cal didn't feel the same way? You tried to push away those harmful thoughts. You took a deep breath to calm yourself and bravely left your room. And may the force be with you
The dinner was exquisite, the atmosphere was warm and familiar. It really felt like a united family. Cal couldn't stop making jokes and you laughed at everything he said or did with dreamy eyes. This did not escape Cere's attention, of course. After dinner you offered to wash the dishes with her.
"It seems like you and Cal get along well." She said casually
You stood looking at her confused with a plate in her hand and the sponge in the other dripping soapy water.
"Cal gets along with everyone, he's like that.". You said downplaying it
"Yes, but I could notice that he spends more time with you or looks at you in a peculiar way. Mmh, I wonder why that is?"
"What? Seriously?"
You couldn't help the astonishment that formed all over your face and voice. Cere had made you fall into her trap.
"Ah, I knew it! You like him, kid!"
"Whaaat? Me? pftt, I don't think so"
You cleared your throat and forced a strangely high-pitched voice that wanted to sound disinterested. But Cere wasn't stupid and placed a hand on your shoulder.
"I meant it. I've seen how Cal gets closer to you than the rest. Talk to him, I think the feeling could be mutual"
This fanned the flame of hope within your heart. You thanked him and went outside to practice with your cane. Cal was already in his room. You remembered the letter. You trembled nervously and ran out of the ship.
The sky was a beautiful twilight orange color. The afternoon breeze made your hair wave. You firmly gripped your staff and began to swing it in your hand, attacking and blocking an invisible opponent. Meanwhile Cal was sitting on his bed thinking about resting for a while when he saw a paper on his nightstand. He took it and unfolded it, when he began to read his heart began to accelerate. He quickly searched the entire ship looking for you, seeing you practicing outside he decided to approach. You were trying to spin your cane in front of you and wave it at the sides of your body but you were hitting yourself or dropping the cane.
"You're doing it wrong"
His deep voice behind you made you jump and throw the cane onto the grass. Laughing, he approached you and with the Force he attracted the cane that you dropped to his hand. He always boasted about his gift. Cal stood behind you, pressing his body against your back. Your breath hitched for a moment. He placed the cane in your hands, taking you by the elbow and guiding your arms forward. His head was close to your neck and tilted forward a little so he could see your hands. His chest pressed against your back made your ears turn red.
"Hold the cane firmly and do it like this"
His breath tickled your neck and shoulder and made you feel electricity. Cal guided your hands by placing his on top of yours. His hands larger than yours maintained firm but gentle contact and together they moved as if they were a single wave, as if they were practicing a dance learned by heart. When you were finally able to do the maneuver you wanted to do with your cane, he congratulated you without leaving you and you turned your head to look at him happily. When you turned to look ahead he took advantage of this and got closer to your ear.
"I already read your letter"
His whispered voice near your ear made your mind go blank and you worriedly bit your bottom lip hard. You turned to face him with your eyes lowered.
"Yeah about that, I-"
Cal grabbed your cheek forcing you to look at him, you could feel your cheeks burning as you opened your eyes enormously.
"Shh, You don't have to say anything. Why didn't you tell me before?"
"I was afraid, afraid that it wouldn't be reciprocated. You are the sweetest being in the galaxy and when I'm with you I feel complete and I didn't want to-"
You started talking so fast and you were getting so nervous that Cal closed the distance by grabbing your cheeks with both hands and crashing his lips against yours. It was a tender kiss, his shy lips barely touched yours for fear that you would reject him. He broke the kiss, looking at you expectantly.
"Don't stop." You exalted with drunken love eyes and his lips
Cal placed his hands on your hips and you moved your hands up to the collar of his shirt, deepening the kiss. Now his mouth covered much of yours with more confidence, but it was still delicate like everything about him. From the ship Cere looked mischievously from the window
• • • • • • •
#cal kestis#bd 1#jedi fallen order#cal kestis x reader#cal kestis x you#cal kestis x y/n#fluff#x reader#imagine#one shot#fanfic#fanfiction#star wars#fallen order#jedi survivor#jfo#cameron monaghan#gn reader#gender neutral reader#x gn reader#x gender neutral reader#x you#y/n#x y/n#star wars fandom#star wars fanfiction#star wars fic#star wars fallen order#star wars survivor
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My You-niverse: Richard Alonso Munoz
Fandom: Oscar Isaac
Pairing: Richard Alonso Munoz x F!Reader, throughout the series: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader
Summary: You and America get stuck portal jumping until you reach your universe again. In the meantime, you meet various versions of your husband.
Warning: mentions of domestic abuse
A/N: sorry its been almost a month since i last updated...i can't promise that it wont happen again.
Series Masterlist
"You've been coming around here a lot lately," you state as you take your mail from Richard.
"Dana's on maternity leave, so I'm taking over the women's block as well."
Your brows shoot up, "Oh. I didn't know she already had the baby. Tell her I said 'Congrats'."
Richard gives you a nod and a soft smile, "Will do."
_____________
Steven groans and wipes his mouth after throwing up. America gives him a sympathetic look, "Yeah, that happens sometimes."
"Strange, not that I don't enjoy all this universe hopping and what not, when will we find, Y/N?"
Stephen rolls his eyes at Marc's alter, "It's not like I put a tracking on her."
"There's no spell of some sort that could help us track her?" Steven asks in desperation.
Stephen thinks and then his eyes widen. He turns to Steven, "Do you have anything of Y/N's?"
Steven rummages through his pocket and pulls out a necklace, "Here. I gave this to her on our first wedding anniversary. She makes me hold it during missions because she doesn't want to lose it."
"Perfect. Hold it up." While Steven holds up your necklace, Stephen does several hand movements, creating different glowing magical shapes. He pushes the shapes to your necklace and it proceeds to glow. The light from it then fades and the necklace is just the same as it was.
"...soooo...what was that supposed to do?" America asks with a cocked brow.
"This," Stephen points to your necklace, "will glow if it senses any trace of Y/N."
America threw up her arms, "Why didn't you think of this earlier?"
"I didn't think of it until now."
Steven groaned, "Would've saved us a lot of time, mate, if you did!"
"Doesn't matter now. All that matters is that we're closer to finding Y/N." Stephen created a portal to the next universe, "Shall we carry on?"
____________________
Twenty-five years to life. Shit. Well, you suppose that's what you get for killing someone. That someone being your sister's abusive ass ex-husband.
"I'd do it again," you murmur, pushing your food around your tray while Richard sat across from you, "No one, especially my sister, deserves to be treated the way he treated her," you spoke, the memories this universe' version of you flooded your brain, "If I didn't do it, there would've been another woman after my sister that he'd use as his personal punching bag. I couldn't have that."
"I get it. I don't condone what you did, but I get it. I've read the letters your sister sends you. I can tell she's very grateful of you."
You nod and let out a deep breath, "So you probably know everyone's dirty secrets, huh? Having to read everyone's letters and whatnot."
Richard smooths over his mustache and shrugs, "I try not to really get into all. Just have to make sure no one is trying to break out of here or trying to hurt someone."
You smirk at him and lean in closer so that he could only hear you, "Have people sent nudes?"
He gave a nervous laugh, "Oh God," he shakes his head, covering his blushing face, "I'm surprised how many people send naked photos of themselves to these inmates."
"Oooouu, Ritchie!"
"I don't look at them long. Just to see it's nothing harmful and then set it back in the envelope." he scoffs, "I've seen more naked women here than I do outside of work."
Your brows rise in surprise, "Really?"
He shrugs, "Yeah, is that surprising?"
It's your turn to shrug, "I dunno. I just-you're sweet and funny and handsome. Thought you'd have someone to give you some lovin'."
Richard sighs, "Unfortunately, there is no love for me."
You prop your elbows up, resting your chin on your hand, "I'd date you if I wasn't locked up here."
"Yeah?" Now it's Richard who looks at you with surprise.
You nod, "Yeah. Like I said, you're sweet, funny, and handsome. Very understanding and a great listener."
One of the guards then announces that lunch is over and that everyone should be heading back to their cells.
You groan and hang your head low, "Guess I'll see you around, Ritchie."
_________________
"So all of these versions of Marc's are just a bunch of tossers, aren't they?" Steven says with a snort, but then he punches himself in the face.
"Shit!" he cries out, "Unnecessary!" He begins to start arguing with Marc.
America starts slowly moving away from them but closer to Stephen, "So, Doc, are we getting closer to finding Y/N?"
"I think so," he fiddles with your necklace in his hand, "It's getting warmer, so we might not be that far behind." He looks back at Steven and calls out, "If you two are done bickering, I'm sure you'd like to get back to finding your wife?"
Steven nods, "Right," he straightens his jacket, "Let's go then." He catches up to Steven and America.
He and America trail behind Stephen and as he follows wherever your necklace is leading him. He's fully concentrated on the task at hand.
America then speaks up, "So, Steven, I know Y/N and Marc are married, so does that mean you're married to her too?"
"I suppose yes, in a way," he holds up his left hand to show his wedding ring, "But technically no. On the marriage certificate, it's Y/N and Marc's name. To be fair, I was never really a relationship person. That's all Marc with the romance and sweeping her off her feet. It took me a while, but I've come to love her as well. There's no title, really. She's mine just as much as she is Marc's and vice versa."
The teen suddenly looks upset, "I really am sorry I got her into this mess."
"It's not your fault. Marc's pissed, yeah, but it's at himself. He gets hard on himself whenever something happens to Y/N. And this is unknown territory for, well, all of us. But Marc doesn't like being so blind to all of this."
"What about you? How are you feeling about all this?"
Steven chuckles, "It's rather thrilling, innit? Visiting multiple universes and timelines and all that?"
America chuckles, "Yeah, it's pretty cool. Maybe once I really get the hang of my powers, we can do this again sans losing Y/N and trying to get her back."
Steven winces and rubs his belly, "Maybe not for a while," remembering how many times he's thrown up already from the universe jumping.
America laughs, "Fair enough."
________________
Richard should be keeping watch of everyone else in the courtyard, but he can't. His attention is captured by you.
You're laying in the grass, soaking up as much sun as possible. He can tell you're at peace in this moment. He doesn't want to disturb you, but he can't help the pull that draws him to you.
He crosses the basketball court, to the area of grass that's starting to yellow as the summer heat is rolling in.
When he approaches you, your eyes are focused up at the sky.
Your eyes go to him and you smile, "Care to join me?" you pat the grass beside you.
He shakes his head, "I'm alright. I just wanted to check up on you."
You hum, eyes going back up at the sky, "When I look up, I'm taken away from this place. I'm not in prison, I'm somewhere else. Somewhere I'm free." You look back to him, "And you're there with me."
"Am I?" Richard gives a chuckle.
You nod, "Of course. You're sharing all of the poems that you've written and read to me." You sit up and turn to him, "Have you written anything new?"
"I'm...working on something."
"Can I get a sneak peek?"
"Absolutely not."
"Why not?!"
"Because I only want to show you when it's finished."
You hold up your hands in surrender, "Fine, fine. I won't budge."
You put your hands behind your head and lean back to lay back down. Once your head hits the grass, you're suddenly somewhere else.
You're on a cold floor. Standing above you is another version of your husband. His hair is slightly longer, more salt and pepper. He's also donning a beard similar to Nathan's.
"I win again, stardust." this version of Marc holds a baton towards you.
You groan, sitting up, "Ow."
He offers a hand to you and pulls you to your feet, "What's hurt?"
"My ego," you answer with a pout.
He gives a low chuckle and kisses your head, "You're fine."
"My Duke Leto," a man enters the room, "your meeting ," he reminds Leto, as you've learned his name.
"Right. I lost track of time." He hands you the baton, "Maybe you should join Paul in his lessons." he playfully nudges you.
"Ha ha."
Leto gives you a chaste kiss on the lips and heads for the door, "I'll see you at dinner, stardust."
You wave at Leto and then take a look around the room you're in. It's all stone of some sort. You walk towards the only window in the room and peer through it, seeing waves of water crash against a cliff.
The sky didn't look right. Were you on some other kind of planet?
#marc spector x reader#steven grant x reader#richard alonso munoz x reader#oscar isaac#f!reader#fem!reader#female reader#marvel#au#marvel au
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PERFECT REUNION
Seo yul x reader (fluff)
"What!? He's back?!" Your eyes widened and you practically bounced up at hearing the words from one of the servants. You had barely even heard the name of your lover since he had left 3 years ago, and after a couple of months, you had even stopped receiving letters despite his promise to you that he would keep sending them.
You were already rushing out of the house the second you processed the words. "Ma'am, I have been informed that Young Master Seo Yul is staying at Chwiseonru. He arrived this afternoon." It was already dark out and entirely improper for you to be travelling alone at this time, but you felt like you didn't have a single second to spare to call for Eunju, your maid. It took 20 minutes to get to Chwiseonru from your family's home, but with your hurried steps, you made it in half the time. Juwol knew you well and already could tell what had brought you here from your slight panting as you struggled to catch your breath.
"Y/n! You're out so late? Without Eunju?" She sounded concerned, but she understood your urgency. There had barely been a mention of Yul after the chaos at Choyeon's wedding 3 years ago. You had been too preoccupied with helping your best friend through her mourning and anger to even say a proper goodbye to him.
Now that things were as back to normal as they could get, you were desperate to see the face you had longed for every night and day for so long. Juwol didn't dawdle any longer before disclosing which room Yul was staying in, and you were quick to rush up the stairs and down the hall. Standing in front of the door, you were hit with a sudden nervousness. You had been separated for so long, but now were only a room apart. It only took one push for you to see his face again. His beautiful face that you had missed so much.
But doubt filled you as you stalled there, standing just outside like the fool you were. What if he had forgotten you? What if he had found someone else in his time away? What if he didn't want to see you? But you shook all your thoughts aside and with your last bit of courage, knocked softly on the door.
"Yes?"
Your heart raced at the sound of his voice, and it suddenly all felt a little more real. He really was back. He was just behind this door. You pushed it open a little shakily, feeling almost as if you couldn't breathe as you watched his eyes look up to meet yours.
He was dressed in a simple light purple set of hanbok and his hair was maybe a little longer than you had last seen, his eyes a little more worn with experience. They held a drowsiness which you knew all too well, and with a quick glance at the table he sat at, you acknowledged the bottle of wine he had been drinking. His eyes widened as soon as he saw you, and you swore they even brightened upon seeing your face. He stood up quickly, but he was clearly very drunk, and he stumbled a bit. You rushed over to him like it was second nature, steadying him before he could trip.
"I-I'm not dreaming, right? I-It's really you, right?" He spoke softly, his words slurring together slightly as a result of the alcohol. His hands gripped at your arms to keep from falling, and your heart nearly shattered at his question. His voice was filled with hurt, but unmistakable hope as well, and all you could do was nod your head fervently at first.
"You're not dreaming... It's me." You whispered with a sob. You finally gave up trying to keep you both standing, and sunk to the floor slowly, tears already slipping out and down your cheeks.
Yul was no more collected than you. Whether it was the alcohol or just the result of seeing you, you weren't sure; but his eyebrows fell, and his lip began to tremble, and before too long, he was weeping silently in your arms as well. That's how you stayed for several minutes. Both of you were too emotional to say anything without breaking down halfway through the sentence, so you just stayed in his arms, sobbing into his chest as he pulled you ever closer, his tears dripping down onto the silk of your dress.
It took a while for you to recover, but eventually, you did. You took a shaky breath, gathering enough energy to be the first one to speak. And even though you could talk without being reduced to tears halfway through, your words were still shaky with emotion.
"Why did you drink alone? You should've invited me..." You looked up at him and offered a sad smile. He tried to return it, but couldn't quite. He shut his eyes as another tear slipped out. You reached out silently and brushed it off his cheek, leaving your hand there to cup his warm skin. He leaned into your touch and it seemed to ground him enough to find the words he wanted.
"I know I should've told you that I was returning... But I was scared." He opened his eyes and met your loving gaze with his sorrowful one. "A few months after I left, I found out some of my letters had been intercepted by my father. I realized you must've thought that I... moved on from you."
He looked down for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He was somehow so well-spoken even while drunk. You weren't sure what you had expected, though. He was Seo Yul, after all. You hadn't realized just how much you had missed him. "Y/n." He said softly. You smiled. Hearing your name from his lips was all you had longed for for those 3 years. "I have so much to tell you, and even more that I want to ask. But first... How have you been, my love?" He smiled gently, finally being able to call you that after so long.
You were quickly able to catch up with your lover. He told you about everything that had happened back home while you shared the rest of the wine. You didn't have much to tell him. Most of the time he had been away from you had been spent at home, with you thinking of rarely anything but him. You found out that he hadn't stopped writing letters to you, he had just stopped sending them. He had even brought them with him, but he refused to show you. They were useless now that he had you back.
In some ways it still felt like a dream that he was here. Yet it couldn't be a dream because you felt his arms around you, hugging you as close as humanly possible. It still didn't feel close enough for either of you, though.
As he talked, you couldn't help but press more and more kisses to any skin you could access— his neck, his jaw, his cheek, and even his lips. He allowed you to cut off his sentences to kiss you instead. You had 3 years to make up for, after all.
It felt too perfect to be kissing him, to feel his soft lips against yours, and to feel the relief that you didn't have to stop or say goodbye. He was here and he was yours and with that thought, you kissed him as if there was no tomorrow. You wanted to savour the moment for as long as possible, so even when you had to pull apart to catch your breath, it was never too long before your lips found their way to his again. It was after you pulled apart for the 3rd or 4th time that Yul spoke up.
"y/n.....marry me?"
You were taken aback at his sudden words. It didn't even really sound like a question, because he already knew your answer. He was firm in the statement, determined even, and you smiled wider than you had ever had before.
You nodded at him with shiny eyes, watching in awe as his lips curved up into a smile, eyes almost overflowing with his love for you. You laughed and kissed him again. You knew he would probably ask you again the next day when he was sober because "nothing counts when you're drunk", and that you would say yes again to that as well. It brought a warm feeling to your chest. You really couldn't think of a time that you were happier than in the current moment.
Everything felt so good and right and perfect. That's what Yul was to you in every way.
Absolutely, unmistakably, decidedly perfect.
Written by: slytherinshua (Wattpad)
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ALL TIED UP - THREE
Previous ⊹ Series
summary: Steve already feels like a fish out of water at the gym. An encounter with a girl and Bucky leaves him gasping for air and grasping for what the hell is going on behind Bucky's frat boy facade. At least he gets some sweet relief, some coffee, and some courage, when he see his favorite barista.
pairings: Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader
word count: 2.5k
warnings: implied misogyny (Bucky and Sam really are Frat Bros™), gym gains + weight mention, Steve's just trying his best, fake crying, possessiveness + demanding obedience, Steve should try to listen to his gut more, successful attempts at flirting
a/n: i'm pleased to be able to finally introduce our reader from steve's pov! i can't wait until i can share her side of the story with you all ♥ enjoy!
also a just-in-case thank you to those who have been patient with my posting. i know my masterlist currently has a schedule, but after an abrupt work trip and conference following, i got thrown off by a week. shoulda known better 😅
The most specialest of special thanks to two of my loves @vonalyn and @lunarbuck for helping me flesh out this idea and enable me in my destruction ♥ i owe you both a beefy alpha soon
gif by @/paliaphrodite | additional graphics + dividers by me ♥
my ao3 | my masterlist | all tied up masterlist
Read this fic HERE on ao3!
♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥
Last Tuesday.
Sweat drips down Steve’s neck as he finishes out his bench presses. Endorphins and dopamine ooze into his bloodstream as his face flushes, driving him to push one more time to beat his personal record. His heart races from excitement as his arms extend, biceps bulging under the 210-pound barbell, pushing it up for the final rep of his set. At last, he reracks the weights and a proud smile spreads easily across his lips.
Going from 175 lbs to 225 lbs in the span of only a month was the last thing Steve expected upon coming to Richards. He wasn’t scrawny by any means before– in fact, as his mother consistently had to remind him, puberty had been exceptionally kind to him, going from five-foot-eight to a cool six-foot-two in just the last two years of high school– but, thanks to the daily regimens Bucky and Sam personalized for each of the brothers, Steve began to see real gains. Real changes. For the better, even he would admit. His jaw became sharper. His chest grew broader. His arms were now just a tad too tight for his own t-shirts.
“‘s all thanks to those prime Sigma genes!” Sam once told Steve while spotting him during one of the first sessions of the semester. Steve couldn’t tell if he was joking about their greek letters or not, so he shook the comment off and chalked it up to ‘Sam being Sam.’ Him and Bucky constantly preached the superiority of ‘Sigma Males,’ regardless if anyone was listening.
Steve never believed in that bullshit. His Ma would keel over if he ever even thought about that kind of concept.
Steve sits up, grabbing his sweat rag and water bottle next to the bench. Taking a long drink, his mind flips through through the schedule for the day: Drawing, then Astronomy and Art History back to back; a mandatory check in with his advisor; lunch or dinner somewhere in between; finally, some sports event-party-thing that Bucky and Sam were adamant the entire house hosts. On a Tuesday.
Steve huffs, rising from the bench and mopping the beads of hot sweat trailing down his temples. He needs to shower quickly in order to make it to class on time, especially if he wants to stop for coffee in the quad.
Not that the coffee is worth the detour on the way to class, in all honesty, but the comforting sight of the usual barista behind the counter is.
Since his first day on campus, something about her has drawn him to the cafe as often as possible. Eventually, they began small talk– well, she started the small talk. Gradually, they started chatting about more than just the weather. Then it became ‘what’d you get on the calc test?’ or ‘hey are you going to the football game?’. Her voice, her laugh, her quiet humming as she prepares orders regularly echoes in Steve’s mind. Her soft, kind eyes and warm smile is burned so deeply into his memory that he’s started drawing her. He doodles in the corner of his notes, sketches on napkins and newspapers, paints watercolor daydreams covering certain pages of his sketchbooks. All of them are her.
He can’t recall for the life of him how it came to be this way. It all happened so suddenly, so gradually.
Over the last few weeks, Steve found himself walking just a touch faster, leaving just a couple minutes earlier, to make sure he can stop by and see her before class. To him, she’s a breath of fresh air, a break from the cloud of testosterone and stress the frat house always keeps him in.
No matter what, she always makes his day just a little bit brighter.
She knows his order before he even makes it to the counter. She knows which classes to ask him about and on what days. She knows writing his name with a smiley face on his cup will make him tip just a little extra, just because she drew it.
She knows him.
Yet, he can’t exactly say the same about her.
Steve bites his lip, so incredibly caught up in thoughts of his coffee shop crush, he doesn’t realize where he’s walking until he runs smack into another body. Hard.
“Oof–Hey!”
The girl in front of him falls to the floor, dropping her phone, rag, and water bottle. Her headphones slip off her head, landing amongst the scattered remains of what she’d been holding.
“What the fuck–!”
“Oh, shit! I-I’m so sorry, lemme–” Steve bends down, offering her a free hand and genuine concern on his face. The girl’s eyes widen and she freezes when she looks up at him. The next thing Steve knows, she’s opening her mouth and getting ready to scream. Panic surges through him and he, too, becomes frozen in place, unsure of what else to do when there’s a soon-to-be-screaming girl in the middle of a crowded gym of frat bros.
Before her scream spills out of her throat, Steve hears a familiar voice behind him.
“Shay? What the hell happened?” Bucky appears, jogging from a machine around the corner. The moment he sees Steve bent over her– Shay, apparently– there’s a darkness that falls over his face as he approaches them.
“He–he–!” Shay hiccups from the ground, bottom lip stuck out in a pout and trembling ever so slightly. Her jacket hangs off her shoulder, half-zipped and barely covering her tanned and toned stomach, and her neat, platinum blonde hair remains in tidy braids plaited down to her shoulders. It’s as if she merely tripped on a rogue water bottle or an untied shoelace. Steve’s throat tightens.
“Bucky, I-I bumped into her, it was an accident, I was just helpin’ her up, I–”
Bucky stops. His shoulders are heaving, chest puffed out, and hands balled into tight fists at his sides. His dark expression makes him look terrifying. Steve’s never seen him like this before.
Steve swears he hears Bucky growl.
It takes a moment, but upon finally realizing it’s only Steve, Bucky backs down and calms almost instantly. His expression neutralizes into his usual suave smirk as he runs a hand through his cropped hair.
“Shay,” Bucky turns his focus to the girl still splayed on the floor. There’s a commanding undertone in his voice, something more dominant, more forceful, than Steve’s ever heard.
“B-but h-he,” Shay babbles on, “he pushed me!” Her cheeks are dry, eyes white without bloodshot or fresh tears. Her lip stays pouting, mimicking a stubborn toddler as she blubbers to Bucky.
“No, he didn’t. He didn’t do anything other than bump into you.” Bucky takes a step forward. “Right, Stevie?” His hand clamps onto Steve’s shoulder. His grip digs deep, tighter than usual. Steve nods quickly.
“Y-yeah, I, uh, wasn’t lookin’ where I was goin’ and I-I just didn’t, uh, see her.”
Bucky gives him a once over, his vice-like grip weighing on Steve like a two-ton barbell. He slowly nods to himself and takes his eyes off Steve, turning to Shay. Steve holds his gaze on Bucky, however, studying him for a second more. He notices the extremely subtle way Bucky is almost looking down on her. Something about Bucky’s eyes, the shift in his jaw, sends a phantom chill up Steve’s spine.
“C’mon, Shay. Get up.”
“But! But, Bucky! He–!”
“You heard me. Get. Up.”
Shay sucks her lip back in and reluctantly obeys as she collects her things and stands. Even with his eyes closed, Steve realizes he wouldn’t have been able to notice Shay’s petite, five-foot-something frame standing in front of him. She barely came up to the middle of his chest. How had he not seen her in his way?
“Now,” Bucky continues, “apologize to Steve.”
Shay scoffs, breaking her show of obedience. She gives Steve a not-so-subtle once-over. Her nose ring wrinkles in the crevice of her nostril as her lips curl into a snarl. She crosses her arms, cocking a hip and copping an attitude.
“Why should I–”
Bucky abruptly lets go of Steve’s shoulder and moves swiftly to stand directly behind Shay. His large hands snake around her waist and Steve can tell he squeezes her, hard, by the sudden, sharp inhale she takes. Her smug, bratty expression disappears immediately as Bucky leans down to the cusp of her ear, lips brushing against the silver rings and studs of piercings littering her cartilage.
“Steve is a brother, Shay. Now, apologize so we can let him leave and we can start your workout.” Bucky’s hands dig tighter into her waist. Steve’s stomach churns.
“I,” Shay sucks in another sharp breath and plasters on a forced smile. “I’m sorry, Steve.”
Bucky releases Shay and steps in front of her. Her hands fold around her stomach to cover the fingerprint marks bruising the sides of her stomach, gaze turning down to the floor at Bucky’s feet. Steve can see over Bucky’s shoulder that her lip is trembling. Genuinely, this time.
“Hey.”
Bucky’s tone snaps Steve’s focus back to him. Steve feels like a deer caught in front of a stopped car as Bucky studies him. The corners of his tight smile twitch into a smirk.
“I’ll see ya tonight, right, Stevie? Don’t forget, it’s baseball night.”
“Erm, yeah. Right. I’ll be there, Buck.”
Bucky winks at him, confirming some undisclosed agreement between them. Steve’s stomach backflips again.
Steve turns to finally leave, quickly making his way to the locker rooms, desperately wanting to shower off the uncomfortable ick clinging to him after whatever the hell that interaction was.
◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌
The door to the café chimes as Steve swings it open. The short line of customers turn to face him along with the barista at the counter. Steve stops mid-stride, panting from his sprint over from the gym. Sure, he’s got class in ten minutes, and it’s a fifteen minute walk to the art school, but he’s convinced himself he needs coffee and his daily dose of sunshine before continuing on with his day– especially after the whole ordeal in the gym earlier.
The barista grins at Steve. She mouths a ‘hi’ as she scribbles down the name for the current customer’s cup. Steve sighs, waving back and taking his place in line.
Admittedly, he was more worried than he thought about catching his favorite barista today. He chalks the anxiety up to the weird encounter with Bucky and Shay– the whole thing felt so wrong, so off. Everything about the way Bucky treated her, talked to her, how she acted before versus after Bucky got behind her– it rubbed Steve wrong in so many ways. He’s never seen or heard Bucky talk like that to anyone before. Not to Sam, not to Tony, or Clint, or even any of the random girls that show face at parties. He doesn’t know if he’s ever seen Shay around before, either. Something about the way she stood after, the stark contrast in her behavior, the way she tried to blame Steve for something he didn’t do.
“Can I help ya, stranger?”
The familiar voice brings Steve back from his clouded thoughts. She smiles warmly at him and he melts on the spot.
“I, uh–”
She giggles.
“I know your order already, silly. Is there anything else you’d like today?”
“N-no, uh, I’m good,” he stammers, sliding his card into the chip reader. “I just, uh–”
She cocks a brow, looking up at him from writing his name on the cup. Steve clears his throat, unsure why he’s suddenly stuttering at someone he sees everyday.
“Just, ah, needed to see you, honestly.”
He feels his cheeks automatically burn as he fumbles to put his card back in his wallet. He pulls out a couple ones and drops them in the tip jar for extra brownie points.
The barista’s eyes sparkle, holding her gaze on Steve. It’s a nice change, to see warmth instead of ulterior motives behind someone else’s gaze. He can tell she’s biting back a smile of her own as she finishes writing on his cup.
“Well, the feeling is mutual,” she says. “I honestly was beginning to think you weren’t comin’ in today.”
A fake pout crosses her lips before returning to a soft smile. She moves to the espresso machine and begins to make him a double shot. Steve scoffs a laugh, cheeks still burning. He shoves his hands in his pockets.
His heart skips, flips, in his chest.
“Ha, I, uh, got caught up at the gym.”
“Ah, so you’re one of those meathead gym bros, huh?”
Steve places a hand over his heart, jokingly wounded.
“Ouch! Wow, you’re really hittin’ where it hurts this mornin’, huh?”
She giggles, prepping the milk for his drink. “I kid, I kid. I respect the grind! Especially when steroids are in such high demand these days.” She flashes him a knowing smirk as she continues to move about the coffee bar.
Steve grins, shaking his head. He can’t believe her. He can’t get enough of her– her laugh, her voice, the way she looks at him. He stares at her for a moment, admiring the focus in her eyes as she meticulously finishes his drink, the curve of her lips when she’s satisfied with her work.
Steve is still staring when she appears at the counter to give him his drink.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
Steve flushes again and presses his lips together, muttering an embarrassed apologizing. Before she turns to go, before he’s forced to continue on with his day until he sees her again tomorrow, a thought pops into the forefront of his mind. Before he knows it, his voice is working faster than his brain can.
“Hey, my-my frat is throwing a party this weekend at, uh, our house,” he starts, mouth instantly going dry. “Would, um, you like to maybe come?”
She stops. Her brow arches, mouth opening and closing without a word. She looks at Steve, really looks at him, studying him as an answer brews on her tongue.
Steve panics. “I-if not that’s totally fine, I, um, I just thought that–”
“Yes.”
Steve’s train of thought instantaneously derails.
“You–you… yes?” He repeats. She scoffs a laugh and nods.
“No promises, but yes. I’ll try to be there.”
Steve’s face hurts from smiling.
“Awesome! Great! I, uh, yes!” Steve confirms again.
Before he can say ‘yes’ for the tenth time, she pulls a marker out of her apron pocket and grabs his cup again, scribbling something on the backside. As she turns back to the coffee bar, Steve picks up his cup and turns it over. His eyes land on a smudged phone number followed by a tiny, smudged heart. He looks up, finding her gaze again, and melts as she bites her lip.
“Text me, meathead.”
Steve beams. Any and all words he’s ever known disappear from his mind.
“I can do that.”
As Steve leaves the cafe, he doesn’t care about being late to class as he enters her number into his phone. He doesn’t care about what the brothers will say come Friday when he introduces the first girl– the first person– he’s ever brought to a party.
He sips his drink, smiling to himself, knowing it’s the best damn cup of coffee he’s ever had.
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