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#the sketch was of them smiling at each other
thanksbutno98 · 1 day
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You Found Me
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John Price x fem!reader OC
Summary: John Price finds himself losing control while his wife who is an archeologist is away on a dig.
Warning: Violence, angst, blood, physical violence, swearing, guns, not edited
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Dust, sweltering heat, dry cracked skin, bitterly cold nights. From having the sun beat you down to frigid air so cold your teeth chattered.
It always surprised you how cold the desert became at night and how hot it was during the day. The early mornings seemed to be the only time you felt comfortable. It took time for you to adjust back into being on a dig sight after so long. Life had consisted of being the new curator at a museum, an active mother, caring daughter, and loving wife. It was strange to step out of those rolls and back into being a hands on archeologist and back on a dig sight thousands of miles away from your family.
Having a slow start like you were this morning was beautiful. Most mornings you were woken up by the sounds of your colleagues chatter since the thin tarp of your tent didn’t give much sound proofing. But today you had naturally woken up before everyone else, made yourself a cup of coffee, and were now sitting and eating breakfast at the small table in your tent as you went over papers.
Your tent was bigger than your colleagues because you were technically the one heading the dig at the moment. The beige burlap tent was rectangular with taller ceilings so most could stand upright without their heads touching the ceiling. You had an ornate red rug rolled out to make it a little more cozy. Your cot was in the back right corner with your old faded trunk at the foot of it. On the inside lid of the trunk were numerous pictures from past digs you had taped there for sentimental purpose.
There was one picture in particular you loved the most. It was of you and John Price back when he was a Luitenant and you an up and coming archeologist. You two weren’t standing anywhere near each other but you asked to get a picture with all the military that were there to show off to your friends after. Little did you know it would be the first picture you would take with your future husband.
There was a dark brown circular table to the left of the tents opening. It had four old wooden chairs around it. There were a smattering of papers, pencils, maps, sketches, and an old lantern on the table. A few feet away was a wooden partition to give you some privacy while you changed in case someone came in.
You had been away for almost a full two weeks. You were coming to assist on this dig because Dr. Michales would not be able to get there in time due to family constraints. It was only intended for you to be here for the first two weeks of the four month dig so you happily obliged. It was a nice change of pace from your job and you were happy that in only a few more days you’d be on your way home. These finds would be an amazing addition to the museum you had been pouring yourself into. It would feel validating to have your name added to these fascinating finds in a museum you were in charge of.
But as enthralled as you were by your studies, your mind continued to drift to your family back home in the UK. John was home with your three children and you couldn’t help but wonder what they were all up to at the moment. You glanced up to see the small wooden picture frame you had lovingly placed on the table, it was a gift from your son.
It was a goofy picture of the five of you that always left you with a smile. John was standing tall with Evelyn tucked under one arm and Jj in the other. Both their feet were off the ground as John carried them like duffle bags out the backdoor of your home, the laughter evident on their faces. You were standing a few feet away with Lily in your arms the five of you all dressed in football gear to go practice in the yard for the afternoon. The picture was taken by your brother in law who had stopped by to drop off some hand me down clothes.
The photo left a bitter sweet taste in your mouth that you tried to attribute to the shitty coffee. You wished you could peer into your home and know what your family were up to. If you could, you’d see John had built a blanket fort in the living room that they were all cuddled under and eating icecream from the tub; something they knew you’d never allow.
With a deep sigh you went back to sipping on your morning coffee in your tent and going over some documents. It was tedious but you were taking the time to make sure everything you were doing was meticulously documented so when Dr. Michales took over there was little confusion. In the still of the morning you brought your chipped coffee cup to your chapped lips and sighed in pleasure at the silence.
Thats when the sound of repetitive gunshots rang out. Time slowed as every hair on your body stood on end. It was the most startling sound and your soul had practically left your body. You jumped so violently you whacked your knee on the underside of the table and then dropped your coffee onto the ruby red carpet, half of the burning liquid spilling down your left arm.
Instantly you knew it was an assault rifle from how quickly each round fired off and you instinctively dropped to your knees and got under the table. The squish of the soaked rug and smell of burnt coffee seared itself into you memory never allowing you to to forget this moment as long as you smelt burnt coffee. With hands tightly clasped over your ears you felt cold all of a sudden as if an Arctic breeze blew through the sweltering desert.
Before a fully formed thought had even been processed through your head you were up and running toward the corner of your tent taking a cloth and wrapping it around the burn on your arm. Throwing a blanket over your cot to cover the space beneath it, you shoved yourself under it. Fumbling around you squeezed into the small space, laced your fingers behind your head and pressed your forehead into the rug. It burned against your skin as you broke out into a cold sweat. Heavy panicked breathing took over and your hands began to shake violently. Fat tears dropped from your eyes and your nose was running like you had just gotten in from shoveling snow.
The sounds of blood curdling screams and more gunfire rang out and all you could think about was never seeing your family again. The memory of them all giving you hugs and well wishes as they saw you off at the airport flashing in your mind. The way Evelyn demanded to be the last one you hugged and how Jj handed you that picture frame sitting on the table a few feet away. You had promised John you’d be safe and sealed it with a kiss goodbye as Lily giggled at your PDA.
Would that be the last memory they had of you? Was Lily old enough that she would remember you? Jj would never recover and Evelyn would be devastated. Your children’s faces flashed in your mind but John’s booming voice was loud in your head. You let out a shaky breath that had drops of spittle splattering against the carpet.
In these moments it felt like John was right there with you telling you exactly what to do.
Steady, calm your breathing.
Darling, if they take you don’t fight back. Please don’t fight back.
You’ll be okay. Stay smart, stay quiet, and whatever you do, don’t panic.
Safety was your only concern as you hid under the cot in your tent. You imagined John was on his way with an army behind him as a way to trick yourself into staying calm. He’d be here to save you, you told yourself. Your mind was racing and about to derail as you screamed and begged in the safety of your mind.
John. John. John.
help
The air had stilled and faint cries of familiar voices echoed as your friends begged for mercy. You could hear Carol screaming that they had killed someone while Tanner was yelling for them to stay away from whoever he was trying to protect. It made you sick to know the horrors of what was happening on the other side of your tent and that you were next. You tried to listen as you heard orders in a language you couldn’t understand. You recognized it as Arabic but couldn’t make out a single word; wishing John was here because he knew a little of the language. The way the words were barked had you trembling. You may not understand the language but deep down you knew that people were about to start searching tents. The sight was about to be raided and in that moment you knew it was only a matter of time until you were found.
The concept of time had vanished as your heart beat echoed in your ears. You had no idea how long you had been hiding it could have been five minute or hours, your mind was playing tricks on you. Your body was soaked in sweat and you felt like you may just die right on the spot as your tent flap was loudly ripped open.
Closing your eyes tight you heard as whoever was in here began to toss the place upside down. You began to chant your children’s name in your mind as a way to distract yourself.
Jonathan, Evelyn, Lily. Jonathan, Evelyn, Lily. Jonathan, Evelyn, Lily.
They consumed your mind. Each one of their pretty smiles and sparkling blue eyes flashing in your minds eye. You swore you could hear them laughing off in the distance. Squeals of laughter and shouts for you to come play.
Finally your cot was tossed, revealing you underneath. Head bowed to the floor, lying flat on your stomach with your fingers laced behind your head. You stayed still hoping, praying, begging god to make you invisible in that moment.
The blood curdling scream you let out was involuntary as this man, whose face was completely covered grabbed you by your hair. The painful tug was barely noticeable as you thrashed and kicked for dear life. You could barely focus on your surroundings as you were dragged toward the tents opening by your hair. The thought of what John would tell you to do to stay safe flying out the window as instinct kicked in. Through the struggle you could hear glass shattering the scent of your vanilla perfume taking over the small space.
As you thrashed you felt your boots connect with your trunk, air, then the man’s leg and you kicked again with all your strength. He let out what you assumed to be a cruse word and then seconds later his open hand collided with your face. He had slapped you with so much force it snapped your head back and your skin burned, you could feel the welt forming instantly but you still tried to fight him off. All you could see was a flurry of your familiar tent as the hand in your hair tightened and you flailed around like a fish out of water.
Then he struck you again and again until your knees buckled and you stopped fighting back. He continued to strike even after the fight left you then one last time for good measure until becoming limp was your bodies only choice. Panting and spitting out a warm liquid that tasted of iron you stopped kicking and strained for breath. Your face, chest and back felt like they were on fire from the blows sustained. You glanced down to look at your white t-shirt, seeing specks and splotches of red littering the cotton.
The large hand that had you by the roots of your hair pulled you down against the ground as you tried to brace yourself from colliding with the floor. The pain at your scalp was white hot as you felt your body collide with the trunk that sat by the end of your cot and then into the table. He was tossing you into the furniture to further the damage he was inflicting on you. The adrenaline was pumping so violently in your veins you couldn’t realize just how hurt you were.
You couldn’t even hear yourself chocking on blood and spit as you plead for him to let you go, that you had children. The air in your lungs burned and your senses were dulled from the beating you had just sustained. You were dragged out of your tent and tossed into the dirt. The coarse sand stuck to your sweat soaked skin as pebbles pressed into the skin of your palms as you braced yourself. Scrambling away on your hands and knees you turned to face your attacker slipping off the heels of your boots and falling on to your ass.
This was the first good look you were getting of this behemoth of a man as he towered over you. He had his face covered only his hazel eyes visible. There was an assault rifle slung around his monstrous frame and what you expected to see was your life flash before your eyes as he reached for it. For some unknown reason you whispered to the man.
“Ghost?”
It had to be delirium or the blows to the head and face making you think this man was Simon Riley; or the fact he was of the same physique and stature. But you were thankful of that because for a brief moment you felt relief. Relief that someone would save you as you watched the assault rifle come up and be pointed in your face. You closed your eyes tight and cried out for John although he was thousands of miles away.
“JOHN!” His name tore from your throat. Your vocal cords straining to a point you felt like you might pop a blood vessel.
The butt of the assault rifle smacked you hard in the face. An obscene crack echoing in the dry air before you could even register you were struck instead of shot. The impact made the world go black for a moment the only thing snapping you back into consciousness was the back of your head hitting the dirt. Your hand weakly reached to your left eyebrow and temple where you’d been struck as the world spun around you. Trying to focus your eyes as dirty brown boots approached you.
You were dazed and dizzy from the blow and you could barely register what had just happened. Through the double vision you pulled your hand away from your temple and saw blood coating your finger tips. The smell of burnt coffee hanging in the air and the heaviness of your eyes winning as you passed out.
——————
“When’s mummy going to video call?” Evelyn was tugging on John’s belt loop as he stood in the kitchen trying to figure out dinner.
Lily, newly three was fast asleep in his arms having been struggling with a nasty cold. The three year old was struggling not having you at home especially while she was sick. John had also been struggling to get her to sleep through the night and it resulted in Lily sleeping with him the past two nights. She would cry into your pillow and cling to an old dirty sweatshirt of yours she refused to let John wash.
You and John had a scheduled video call a day ago but he hadn’t heard a word from you. It was concerning to say the least and John was becoming more concerned as each hour ticked by. He told himself he wouldn’t freak out and you were just busy but there was this clawing feeling in the back of his mind; something didn’t feel right.
John kept telling himself he couldn’t call someone in he still hadn’t lived down the last time this happened and he sent Soap and Ghost out there to check on you. You called him laughing hysterically that he needed to tone down the protectiveness and that you simply forgot to call. Simon also brought it up from time to time saying he would do the same in John’s position but Soap liked to make snarky comments about the Captain being uptight.
“She’ll call soon, love.” John said confidently not wanting Evelyn to worry. With a kiss to her forehead she smiled sweetly and retreated into the living room.
John couldn’t handle the uncertainty anymore. Pulling out his phone he dialed the first person he knew would pull a few strings for him, no questions asked. The line rang four times before the familiar voice sounded on the other end.
“John, surprised to hear from you.”
“Kate, I need a favor.” John spoke quietly. Peaking his head out of the kitchen he checked that both Evelyn and Jj were out of ear shot before he continued.
“Sounds urgent.” The smile in Kate’s voice vanished.
“Y/N is in Urzikstan on a dig. Haven’t heard from her in a couple days. Think you could ask Farah to have a few of her men check things out. Make sure she’s safe.” John meant to ask but it came out as more of a statement. He could hear Kate’s fingers dart across her keyboard as she typed loudly.
“Yeah, going to need a few more details.”
“Of course.”
——————
“I want the last egg roll!” Jj hissed.
Jj and Evelyn had been at each other’s throats all day and it was driving John up a wall. It was hard for him to handle his children when he had you and your safety on his mind. He kept checking his phone to see if Kate had reached out to no avail.
The past two hours had felt like torture and John had been virtually silent. Although his children didn’t seem to notice, too busy arguing with each other about anything and everything. You would think they’d pick up on how John wasn’t diffusing the arguments or scolding them for fighting.
“Too bad I want it!” Evelyn hollered back at her brother. Taking the white crinkly bag with the egg roll in it only for Jj so snatch it back.
John was looking between his son and daughter and sighing heavily. He took the bag from his son silently and placed it on his empty plate. He was about to cut the egg roll in half when the argument took a turn. Lily was quietly eating her fried rice and glancing back and forth between her siblings deeply enthralled by their display.
“Brats don’t deserve eggs rolls!” Jj spat the insult in his sisters face.
“Neither do cry baby, no good at maths, nose picker, butt sniffer, idiots!” Evelyn shot right back pulling out every insult she could think of.
“I’m not a nose picker or a butt sniffer!” Jj screeched, hands smacking against the table.
“Still makes you a cry baby idiot who sucks at maths.” Evelyn spat back now kneeling on her chair. They looked ridiculous arguing in matching orange t-shirts from last summer fair. John could practically see the lightening bolts shooting across the table as they violently stared at one another.
John snapped, not able to handle his children being this nasty to each other over an egg roll of all things. With a mean look John snatched the egg roll from the white paper bag it sat in and shoved the entire thing in his mouth. It was an enormous amount of food but he chewed aggressively and relished in the greasy goodness. John felt somewhat vindicated to take the last egg roll for himself. He didn’t yell at his children and found a way of solving the issue since there was no egg roll to argue over now.
“AHHH YOU ATE IT!” Evelyn shrieked, hands shooting up to her cheeks as she stared at her round cheeked father, his mutton chops only making his cheeks look puffier. John stared forward eyes locked on the pantry doors with a blank expression and continued to chew as he felt his children’s anger now pointed at him.
“Dad!” Jj hollered his face fixed in shock and anger just like his sister. Jj’s nose flared and eyebrows knit together trying his best to hold back his sass.
“You’re being a piggy!” Evelyn sneered, blue eyes narrowed.
“Don’t call me a pig.” John snapped back and covered his mouth as he scolded Evelyn. The spark of fury igniting in his icy eyes causing the young girl to plop back in her seat, cross her arms over her chest and grunt angrily.
“Fine, how about a thief.” Jj said under his breath. Taking his fork and scooting a piece of broccoli around his plate. John swallowed thickly at his son’s words his blood pressure spiking.
“Thief? I bought the bloody food. And you want to call me a thief!?” John’s voice was thick from the greasy food and beginning to raise. His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of his phones generic ringtone.
Evelyn and Jj were stunned as he got up from his chair so quickly it almost fell backwards. They saw the anger vanish from their father’s face and be replaced with an emotionless expression.
“Behave.” John warned as he abruptly got up from the dinner table and quickly made his way out the back door onto the patio. He could see all three of his children now peering out the window to get a better look at him.
“Kate, hear anything?” John skipped all the pleasentries and got straight to the point.
“The sight was ransacked. The people left claimed five individuals had been taken by a group of men with face coverings. One of them was identified as your wife.” The matter of fact tone Kate used was in hopes John wouldn’t go off the deep end at the news.
“Get Farah on this immediately tell her it’s a favor for me. I’ll owe her my life. But keep it under wraps this is my wife, don’t need word spreading and anyone getting ideas. I’ll be packed and on base to assist within the hour.” John barked down the line as if it was appropriate to give Kate orders.
“Farah is already working on tracking them down. Said you’d probably want to see the dig sight and talk to some of the witnesses yourself.” Kate and Farah had a much more in depth conversation on possibility of hostage survival but Kate felt that would be better for John to hear in person.
“She knows me well. I’ll be there soon.” John’s thumb and forefinger were pinching the bridge of his nose as he desperately tried to keep a hold of himself.
“We’ll get her back, John.” The certainty in Kate’s voice was only to comfort John and he knew that. There was no certainty and no one knew that better than them.
“We will.” John said simply before hanging up, feeling as if he were lying to himself.
There was a calm that washed over John. An eerie almost manic clarity came over him, a feeling that John knew all too well. It was what made him good at his job. What made taking peoples lives and living on with the weight of it manageable. He’d felt this many times but never with you, never like this. This was a feeling he had in war zones, shoot outs, the most gut wrenching and gruesome situations.
But tonight as he stood on the patio of your family home, all he knew was that he was on his way to Urzikstan with hell hot on his heels. The muscles in his face began to twitch and he chuckled out a dry laugh that most would describe as demented or deranged. John felt his sanity slipping as if he were about to go on a murderous rampage if he didn’t keep himself in check; and he just might. The thought of you scared, alone, and in danger had his skin tingling. If a single hair was out of place John wasn’t sure he’d be able to control himself, he’d truly become a monster he’d promised himself he’d never be. But could you blame him? Would anyone blame him?
John was calling the next person before he had even fleshed out a game plan. All the pieces were falling together in his mind and he saw every move he needed to make with clarity. The five rings of the phone was enough time for John to map out which route would be the quickest to base and how exactly he would get someone to fly him out there with little pushback. He’d need to pull every string and bully his way into getting what he wanted. He would be there in the quickest amount of time possible.
At any cost.
“Billy, Y/N in trouble on her dig and I need to get out there. Can y-“
“I’m putting on my shoes now. I’ll be there in a flash. Stay on the line.” Billy, your father, didn’t need another word. Much like John this was instinctual on how to react when the question of your safety was raised.
John could hear him rushing around and faintly overheard Billy’s girlfriend asking where he was going and if everything was okay. Then her screaming, asking why he was leaving and he ‘couldn’t keep doing this to her.’ Billy answered by slamming the door and effectively ending that relationship as he sprinted down the stairs for his car. If only John could tell you about this he knew you’d snort out a laugh and have some smart ass comment about your father’s horrible communication skills. But that wasn’t the case and John’s stomach twisted and rage spiked his veins at the thought he might never be able to tell you.
John stayed on the line only for the reason of making sure Billy was okay because that’s what you would want him to do. John knew you would demand that he looks out for your father in any and all circumstances. Even when you weren’t here to tell him yourself John was staying true to everything you would want and he’d continue to do that until the day he died.
“I’m on my way. Be there in twenty.” Billy huffed out of breath.
“See you soon.” Before John could hang up he heard the deadly serious words of your father as his car door slammed.
“You better bring her home in one piece. I mean it John, or I’ll have your fuckin’ head.” Billy yelled the words down the line and John could picture how angry he looked and how his finger was pointed to emphasize his point.
“I will.” John knew Billy was the only other person on this earth that would walk through the fires of hell for you. There was a mutual respect that both John and Billy would lay their lives down for you and kill for you. That’s why Billy trusted John to be your protecter all those years ago.
By the time Billy arrived he could feel the tension in the air. He tried to walk through the front door calmly but half burst through the door. It only took a few steps into the house to have full view of the living room which was where his grandchildren were.
Jj was sitting on the couch with Lily in his lap and reading her a book. Evelyn was sprawled out on the floor, red in the face, having just finished crying. It broke Billy’s heart watching his oldest grandson console Evelyn from his spot on the couch. Jj was truly John’s son trying to hold everything together no matter how unequipped he was.
“Evie, dad’s gonna be back with mum so fast it’ll make our heads spin. Isn’t it kinda cool he gets to go pick her up all the way in another country?” Jj was clearly trying to hide his own panic. His voice deepening like his fathers would when times were serious.
“Grandpa, dad says mummy’s fine but I don’t believe him.” Evelyn burst into tears again at the sight of Billy. Jj looked up to him like a deer in headlight his bottom lip wobbling as he saw the angry look on his grandpas face. Lily turned in Jj’s arms and hugged him around the neck.
“No crying Jj.” Lily whispered lovingly and nudged the book at him. Her curls tickling her brother’s skin and helping distract him from the tightness in his chest.
Jj willed himself to be strong for his sisters because for the first time in his life John had earnestly asked him to take care of them; and that’s what scared the young boy. There was a rule set by you and his father that Jj was not to take on adult responsibilities or roles under any circumstance. The fact his father asked this of him meant something was very, very wrong. And Jj was ready to do whatever it took to take care of his sisters.
Evelyn was moving pathetically so she was now kneeling on the carpet and starting to breather heavily, clearly panicking. Her small hand came up and clutched her orange t-shirt in the middle of her chest as if she were struggling to breathe. Evelyn was old enough at this point to understand something was horribly wrong but she couldn’t express why. The fact was, she felt deep down in her bones something bad was happening and unlike her brother she couldn’t hold herself together.
“Hey, she’s okay, just got caught up in some red tape at work. Your dad’s gonna bring her home safe and sound.” Billy didn’t bother taking off his shoes as he scooped the eight year old up in his arms. Evelyn wrapped herself around him and cried into his shoulder. Billy nodded to Jj as a way to silently comfort him but he could see how rattled the young boy was. With a deep sigh and quickly wiping away the stray tears, Jj went back to reading the book to Lily who was half asleep.
“Red tape!? That’s the worst kind.” The young girl hiccuped out sobs as Billy swayed with her and rubbed her back like he did when she was Lily’s age.
“Mummy’s my favorite person, she needs to come home. right. now.” Evelyn was sobbing harder and harder as Billy tried his best to console her.
It reminded him of when you were a little girl and cried for hours that you wanted your mother to come home. Only for you, your mother had passed and there was no chance of her ever walking through that door again. And Billy prayed that his granddaughter wouldn’t have to face the same suffering you did as a girl.
John was jogging down the stairs in his military fatigues with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder. His mind was racing but you’d never be able to tell from the emotionless look on his face, the paternal side of himself going dark at the sight of Billy. Knowing your children were now in good hands John was in a mindset that lived outside this home for good reason. His children had never seen this side of him. The cold, calculated, and self assured Captain he was renowned for being.
With sharp eyes John saw Billy had two different shoes on, he missed a belt loop, and had buttoned up his shirt wrong making one end lopsided. Billy was completely disheveled and it was obvious to John in that moment that no time was to be waisted, Billy needed his little girl home now.
“You three be good to your grandpa.” John’s words were more of an order as he went around and placed a kiss to each one of his children’s heads; his duffle bag thrown over his shoulder.
Billy and John shared a knowing nod and John left your father with a few parting words.
“You’ll see her soon. And thank you.” The deepness in John’s voice was a testament to his seriousness.
Billy couldn’t speak on the subject it would make the reality too real and he knew he’d lose himself completely if he lost you. So he nodded sharply and turned away from John, not allowing any emotion to take over although fear had its clutches on his heart.
——————
“Hello, Captain. Long way from home.” Farah’s voice sounded as she approached Captain Price as he stepped out of the truck he rode in. It was a shit show to get here but John managed to do it in record time. Pulling no punches and going as far as threatening those who wouldn’t give him his way.
“You locate the hostages?” Price’s voice had deepened like it usually did when deployed or on missions. A quick handshake was exchanged as a greeting, then Farah waved for Price to follow as she showed him around the campsite. John nervously fixed his hat on his head, blood pulsing painfully though his veins seeing the destruction of a once well manicured campsite. From the photos you sent him it was picture perfect and a textbook outline of a campsite. One central hub, area for showering, the group of tents closely huddled together; all adjacent to the dig sight.
“I have some of my men checking out possible locations but not much has turned up. There was one seriously wounded man but he’s stable now. No casualties. The people left behind said they headed west with five hostages.” With an out stretched gloved hand Farah pointed west to emphasize her point then signaled to the tire marks left behind.
“These treads are wide, wider than normal. Wouldn’t be surprised if they’re armored. What do you say?” Glancing over Farah intently inspected Price’s face trying to determine why this group of individuals called for him pulling out every favor he had. Why did some archeologists he had no business knowing call for him to be out here so quickly.
“You seen treads like these before? They look military.” With a nod John tilted his head down staring at Farah through his eyebrows, his hands coming up and gripping his tactical vest.
“A military convoy was high jacked last week. Think these might be the same people. Tire marks lead west like they said.” Farah confirmed the two of them continuing on, checking out the ransacked campsite.
“Then we’ll go west.” John said simply as he took in his surroundings. The two walked on stopping at the dig sight to see the carved out areas of ancient ruins. It looked to be the start of a decently sized complex covered in a layer of sand and dust. To the left was artifact that had been discovered and were being catalogued. None of it was disturbed only the campsite was torn apart.
“It’s a shame. If only they could keep themselves from digging in dirt that’s not their own. Don’t think this would have happened if it were our people here making this discovery.” Farah stated matter of factly. John hated that he agreed with the sentiment. Hell, he had said something similar to you when you first met and that’s why military presence was important on dig sights.
It was strange seeing something horrible that John had seen before but equating it to you. It was a feeling he hoped he’d never have but here he was. Examining tents that had been cut open, overturned vehicles, burned food supplies and water basins turned over and emptied. The small campsite was completely gone through and all forms of life preserves destroyed. The dig sight somehow remained untouched to John’s surprise but then again it seemed this was more of a job to stop those who don’t belong from taking things that aren’t theirs.
Continuing on John’s sharp eyes looked for any trace of you. That’s when he saw the tent that was bigger than the others, meaning it was the lead archeologists. Your tent. Silently John made his way over eyes carefully scanning the area around it. There were droplets of blood splattered a few yards from the tents entrance that lead to a larger blood stain. Squatting down John gave it a close look and determined it wasn’t nearly enough blood to be fatal and he wasn’t about to assume it was yours. There were clear drag marks leading off to where Farah had said convoy trucks were parked.
Farah silently followed, watching closely how Price’s face barely changed. Dipping into what he assumed to be your tent John was met with glass crunching under his boots and the sight of all furniture flipped over and your belongings rifled through.
The first thing John noticed was the smell of your vanilla perfume. Then he saw your old trunk kicked over with your belongings spilling out. There was that navy sweater you liked to wear on cold nights torn and lying on the red rug along with books and toiletries. Taking another step in John picked up on the smell of the hazelnut coffee you liked and he couldn’t help how that smell reminded him of home and you curled up in the early morning with coffee and a book. Then his boots crunched against something that snapped under his weight. Looking down and seeing what he’d stepped on finally had reality taking hold and a painful throb shooting through his head. This was your tent. His wife’s tent. And the blood splattered across the table and chairs was yours.
With a shallow breath and his lip twitching John bent down and picked up the family photo you had taken with you. It had speckles of dark red dried blood that tainted such a pure memory. John adored that day and thought back to it as one of the few perfect days you all spent as a family. Playing football in the back yard then grilling for dinner and eating around a bonfire. The night ended with you in John’s bulky arms and breathing each other in as you showed the deepest form of love to one another.
John felt himself ready to be sick. There was a rage so intense it made his head ache and muscles tense. With gritted teeth he could hear his teeth creaking from the immense pressure. Never in his life had John felt the urge to kill like this. It was no longer for defense or the safety and sanctity of his comrades and country. This felt blood thirsty like nothing could stop him from cutting down anyone who stood in his way on the path to find you. But for you and only you he would keep his composure because if he snapped there was no way anyone would allow for him to continue on this mission. There was a time and place to strike and he’d have them all in their graves by the time it was too late for anyone to stop him.
“Let’s find them.” John dropped the picture frame to the floor, the dark wood clattering against the broken bits of chair and glass.
The loose shards of glass from the frame scattering and adding to the mess that lay inside the tent. He left the picture frame there on the ground unable to bring his family along with him. He left it where he found it and turned away telling himself it would be here waiting for you when he brought you back to collect your things.
Farah was quick to step out of his way as Price marched out of the tent. There was an eir about him almost as if the darkest of pain radiated from his soul and infected the air. It was something Farah had never seen from Price, it almost felt inhuman, like a gruesome scene yet to unfold. Before he left he had one final thing to say.
“Don’t say a word.” It was a threat. Farah could hear it in his voice as if the devil had spoken yet sounded like the man she trusted with her life.
Curiosity got the better of Farah and she took a brief moment to look at the photo and the realization clicked in her head. Seeing Price’s face with a bright smile staring back at her and three children with matching ones was enough for Farah. The Captain had a wife and children. She had no clue. The woman they were searching for had to be the Captains wife and at least now Farah knew what you looked like. So hopefully it’d be easier to find and identify you if you had become a casualty. And she prayed for Price’s sake that wasn’t the case.
~~~~~tag list~~~~~
@exhaustedpotat0 @glitterypirateduck @ivymarquis @crazymela @what-0-life @boredfairy4 @hihhasotherfixations @stephanswhxre @shanjisan @k4es @luvleywrites @kita03-0 @midwesternwitchery @aleynaleia @suckerforbassist @misshoneypaper @theaonlax @blackstar9005 @tooterbutt @havoc973 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @freshlemontea @cosmoscoffeee @sae1kie @ohworm-writes @ghostslittlegf @fanficwriterlover @arminarlertssword @faceache111 @azu21 @thirstyb-ches @nini-11-08 @sgtgarricks @kiki-is-hyperfixating
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iamnot-crazy · 1 day
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Pages of Promise, We'll meet again
Chapter 1
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Summary: You have always itched for adventure and when an interesting vessel appears you take your chance and jump aboard. Now the Straw hat pirates present an offer you can't refuse but before you take them up on it you first need to speak to your grumpy captain.
Trafalgar Law x reader
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Law's initial assumption was that your boundless energy and lack of boundaries would be a constant annoyance, but since you have been aboard he learned how wrong his assumption was. Yes, you were a handful with your knack for finding trouble, and extricating you often became Law's personal headache. But he'd come to appreciate that side of you too. When you weren't excitedly soaking up new information or peppering the crew with questions for your ever-growing log, you were a surprisingly calm person.
For a good part of each day, you'd disappear, engrossed in recording the Heart Pirates' adventures. Your passion seeped through the pages of your beautifully illustrated log, showcasing your love and thoughtfulness for the crew.
It wasn't until he saw you gazing at the Straw Hat captain with the same unwavering determination you'd had when you first boarded the Polar Tang that Law realized what he'd taken for granted.
The Straw Hats each have their own fascinating stories and ambitious dreams and you listen in awe. You scribbled furiously in your smaller travel notebook, capturing their every word so you could later transfer it to your larger masterpiece. Your pen barely kept pace with the torrent of tales they poured out.
Law's frown deepened as your eyes glowed with a familiar spark. Sure he didn't want you on his crew at first but he'd grown attached to you, and so had the rest of the crew. From your cheerful good mornings, while whipping up breakfast to your one-on-one sessions with each crew member to write their stories, you have become an indispensable part of their lives.
But what Law appreciated most was your silent companionship. He'd often find you tucked away in a quiet corner, diligently writing and sketching while he read a medical book, the rhythmic sounds of the waves serving as a lullaby.
His heart tightened when the Straw Hat captain finally reached his boiling point. He bounded over to you, his declaration echoing across the decks, "Y/N! We go on crazy adventures every day and someday I'll be King of the Pirates! If you want to write about a legendary crew, you should join ours!"
Law's gaze darted between you and the captain, his knuckles turning white as he gripped his sword hilt.
Luffy grabbed your shoulders in a playful chokehold. "Every legend needs a chronicler! What do you say, Torao?! Can Y/N join my crew?!"
All eyes turned to Law, the air thick with anticipation. The smile that had bloomed on your face faltered. You'd been so caught up in the Straw Hats' infectious energy that you'd completely forgotten about your crew.
His jaw clenched, and his grip on his sword tightened further. "I don't control them,"
Luffy jumped up in excitement grabbing onto your shoulders and cheering for his new crew members. The others also joined in celebration making you feel welcomed and warm compared to Law's cold glare. You pulled yourself out of the straw hat's grip and bowed your head, guilt gnawing at you. "I'm so sorry, Straw Hat-ya, but… would you allow me some time to think about this?"
Luffy's infectious grin faltered slightly, but he nodded. "Yeah, but don't keep me waiting too long!" He quickly bounced back to his usual cheer, rejoining the festivities.
You felt a pang of longing as you turned away from the vibrant scene, seeking solace with your captain. Sitting awkwardly next to him, you struggled to find the words. Law finally sighed, the tension slowly draining from his shoulders. "You should join them," he muttered, surprising you.
Your head snapped up, eyes wide. "But what about the Heart Pirates?"
Law pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I already reached my goal. Doflamingo was defeated. I don't know what the world has in store for us next, but I do know whatever the Straw Hats' will be doing, it will be far more interesting. Your dream is to write about the new era, and I played my part. The Straw Hat captain… he isn't done."
You were frozen, your mind racing. "But Captain…"
Law stood up, cutting you off. "Just go join them." He turned away, his voice thick with emotion. He stormed away to the Polar Tang slamming the hatch shut behind him.
Just as Law disappeared in the tang a whistle pierced the air. Turning, you saw Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo approaching, their faces etched with concern.
"He seems mad," Shachi commented, plopping down on a nearby crate.
"You aren't really going to join the Straw Hats, are you?" Bepo asked, his voice trembling.
You shook your head placing it in your hand "I don't know."
Penguin shrugged. "Maybe you should join them. You're almost finished with your book on us, and the Straw Hats are going to need someone like you to tell their stories."
Bepo scowled. "But she's a part of our crew!"
Penguin sighed. "Look, Bepo, she has a dream too. Documenting the new era, the Straw Hats are definitely going to be leaders in that. It doesn't mean she doesn't care about us."
"But what about our Captain? Or do you not think he can become King of the Pirates?" Shachi interjected, glaring at Penguin.
Penguin flinched. "No, it's just… you saw them. Besides, Captain said it himself."
"But Y/N joined our crew first, doesn't that count for something?" Bepo whined.
"I just mean Y/N has served her purpose with our crew joining the straw hats would be the best for her." Penguin countered, his voice firm.
The conversation devolved into a heated debate, leaving you feeling even more overwhelmed. You excused yourself and retreated to your favorite porthole, the one offering the best view of the open sea. As you approached you found another figure leaning against your window staring off at the sea.
You smirked slowing your approach and dancing toward your grumpy captain "Anything interesting out there?" You sang leaning into his view.
Law jumped at your appearance but relaxed when he realized it was you and leaned his back onto the wall. "Nothing new." He sighed rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm sorry for being brash earlier."
You crossed your arms and smirked playfully, "You were?"
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "But I was being sincere earlier. I think you should join the Straw Hats. But…"
"But?" you urged, your heart pounding.
He looked away, his voice quieter. "But we'll miss you."
A warm smile spread across your face. "Awe, did I finally grow on you, grumpy Captain?"
He scoffed playfully turning to his side and looking back out the porthole, "You did a while ago." He admitted.
His comment took you off guard, "What is that supposed to mean?"
Law sighed, "You might have been a little much at first but I have grown to enjoy your presence and passion."
You tilted your head, studying him curiously. "Enjoy?" Your tone was laced with surprise, "The entire time I have been aboard you have been so pouty."
He scoffed, "I have not been pouty." You gave him a knowing look causing him to roll his eyes, "Fine I might have been a little pouty but that's just because I didn't know how to feel about you."
"Feel about me? Captain, do you like me?" You playfully teased.
Law's cheeks turned a faint pink. "Forget I said anything!" He pushed himself away from the wall and started to walk off.
"Wait!" you called out, reaching out to grab his arm. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to tease. Please."
He turned back, his gaze meeting yours. His eyes softened, and for a fleeting moment, you saw a vulnerability you hadn't noticed before.
"Y/N," he began, his voice low and husky. "When you first boarded the ship, you were full of this chaotic energy, but there was another side to you that I learned to appreciate. You care so much about the crew and documenting every adventure." He reached the wall again and sat down, "The first time I saw you here, drawing and writing your stories…"
"Our stories," You interrupted with a chuckle, joining him on the wall.
Law smiled faintly. "Yes, our stories. I didn't think you had it in you to be so focused. It was… nice to hear your pen scratching against your sketchbook as I read my medical books. I think that's when I started having conflicting feelings for you."
You felt a blush creep up your neck. You hadn't expected such a confession. "Why didn't you say anything sooner?"
Law shrugged, a hint of frustration in his voice. "It's not like I could act on it. I'm your captain and there was so much that needed to be done. And if you don't feel the same it would backfire more on me."
Hesitantly, you admitted, "I would be lying if I said I didn't feel the same way. I never imagined you could feel the same." You pause looking softly at him, "So what now?"
Law sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Now you join the Straw Hats and complete your dream. Then, hopefully, one day our paths will cross again."
The thought of leaving Law and the Heart Pirates ached, but you understood his reasoning. "But what if I don't want to join the Straw Hats?"
Law raised an eyebrow, surprised. "I saw how you were looking at them, how you blended in with them."
You bit your lip. "They're constantly getting into trouble, and I don't think I'm strong enough for that."
"They'll protect you," Law reassured you.
"Just like you have?" you asked.
"No." Law averted his gaze, a wry smile playing on his lips. "With me, it was different. I pulled you out of trouble. With them, it'll be different. They'll pull you into trouble, they'll challenge you, push you to your limits, but they'll also have your back."
"But I like things the way they are here. With you," you confessed, a pout forming on your lips.
Law grabbed your chin pulling you to look at him before he pulled you into a kiss. You were taken by surprise at first but his soft lip calmed your nerves as he deepened the kiss.
When he pulled away, his eyes held a mixture of sadness and determination. "Y/N," he said in a voice rough with emotion, "go chase your dream, and when you do, we'll meet again."
He stood up abruptly and disappeared down the hall, leaving you staring after him in a daze.
Taking a deep breath, you knew what you had to do. You grabbed your bag and made your way to the library. There, in the quiet solitude, you began writing the final chapter of your time with the Heart Pirates.
With a heavy heart but a burning determination, you finished the entry, pouring your love and gratitude for your experience onto the pages. Closing the book, you turned to the empty one – the one that would chronicle the adventures of the Straw Hat Pirates. You place the new empty book into your bag leaving the completed version of the Heart Pirates book on the table for everyone on the crew to read.
With your bag full and a new empty book, you walked out of the polar tang. Outside the party, the two ships have started to die down and many lay asleep on the ground. Your eyes darted across the dock for your captain but he was nowhere in sight, before you could turn around in search of him you felt a rubbery hand wrap around your waist.
"Y/N! I see your bags are packed! Did you make a decision?" A bubby captain pulled you off the deck of the Tang and onto the deck of the Sunny.
Your feet wobble as you try to brace your new bearings. You scratch your head, "Yeah I think I did but I was hoping I could say goodbye to Law first."
"No need." Robin appeared at your side, holding a folded piece of paper. "He stopped by earlier and left you a note."
You took the paper, your heart pounding. Written on the paper in handwriting that could only be written by a doctor said, "We'll meet again."
"Hey, we should probably get going soon if we want to make it to the next island by tomorrow!" Nami shouted from above you cutting off your thoughts.
"Alright then, let's set sail!" Luffy declared, his voice brimming with infectious energy.
And with that, the Sunny pulled away from the dock and the Heart Pirates, charting a course towards a new adventure. You stood at the railing, the wind whipping through your hair, your notebook clutched tightly in your hands. The future stretched before you, an open book waiting to be filled with the stories of the Straw Hat Pirates, and perhaps, someday, a reunion with a certain grumpy doctor. A smile bloomed on your face – the adventure had just begun.
---
A/N: Wanna read more of my work check out my MasterList
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green-lights-33 · 1 year
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i was angling at a cute bonding moment and I somehow ended up with whatever this is so,,,
enjoy? <3
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Finally drew Goldfinch fan art! They are definitely my favorite duo
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mik-arts · 7 months
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Fanaedar can’t steal glances at Flora very often because he’s got some strange magic stuff that’s triggered by eye contact and he doesn’t want to risk it, but one of the moments he can is when she’s in the zone working on a project
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flamboyant-king · 11 months
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We saw the beginning, now I be thinking about all the possible...uhh the word is like aftermath...epilogues? Seeing as the narrative will be left open ended, we can hypothesize and fantasize just about anything!
This one is Harvey carrying on with what he idealized as a normal life, getting married, having kids, going out with the boys, stuff you see on TV. But Cammy is still there, still a part of his life. And that's pretty neat. And also I cry.
#i went on a spree yesterday with a bunch of aftermathematics that made me cry myself to sleep#because no matter what. every single end. cammy will outlive harvey. every thing in between can be different#cammy leaving. cammy staying. reluctance. romance. etc etc. cammy will live on without harvey. and it will hurt them. a lot.#it hurts me a lot. im still crying over 'thank you for keeping me in your life'#cammy could be living in the garden until the very end. either of harveys life. or the tree they took care ofs life.#maybe cammy leaves but visits from time to time. or maybe they visit right before harvey kicks the bucket#who knows! thinking about anything past the narrative makes me cry#because we dont see that in media. we always get the good ending but that is never the end. what happens afterwards?#cause grow as we go's narrative ends after harvey finally reunites with his family in the philippines and decides#i want to stay at my house and take care of my garden. ill be sure to visit every year from now on.#and the credits would roll as him and cammy travel back. on the plane. the taxi ride. harvey getting the key in the door.#harvey putting cammy in the little makeshift bed he made. and him looking out the window of his room down at the garden. him smiling#and then it says end. thank you for watching. this took fourty two years to make oopsie whoops#god i go on long rants when its late. anywho compare to last time i made a possible ending#cammy reluctantly leaving as they both start to fall in love with each other#cammy willingly running away knowing harvey will heal from this and move on and be normal#this one here theres no leaving. there is no normal. its just living dude#grow as we go#sketches#harvey#camellia
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grismavessel · 2 years
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Gris and Ingo being stars in a slowburn
Or their Pokémon are tired of seeing them run in circles and wish they get the clue already
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honeybyte · 8 months
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Ooh that's so interesting that elle and odelia are foils! I also Love those sketches! They're so expressive with just the right amount of detail just ough. I want to eat them
YEAH like i meant for agnes to be odelia's foil, but the way i ended up rebuilding elle made that make more sense! both are community leaders for different reasons, both are a little unstable, color vs black and white, all that
but i think the one that makes me go nuts is the concept of Giver and Taker-- one giving back to their community however they can, and the other expecting offerings from her community even at their expense
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joycrispy · 7 months
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One thing I love about Crowley --never stated, but consistently shown-- is that he is, at heart, an engineer.
I have a few different things to say about that. Let's unpack them.
As the Unnamed Angel, we see his designs for the Pillars of Creation are millions of pages long, comprised of cramped text, footnotes, diagrams, schematics, etc. It's very...Renaissance polymath, in the way it implies a particular intersection of artist and inventor.
Also: in the naked romanticism with which he views his stars.
We already knew he made stars, but in s2 we learn that he did NOT sculpt each of them by hand. He designed a nebula ("a star factory," he says) that will form several thousand young stars and proto-planets, and all --aside from getting the 'factory' running-- without him lifting a finger. We also learn that these young stars and proto-planets stand in contrast to those made by other angels, which are going to come 'pre-aged.'
...I'm reminded of Hastur and Ligur's approach to temptations. Damning one human soul at a time, devoting singular attention to it over the course of years or decades, and how that stands in contrast to Crowley's reliance on, quote, 'knock-on effects.'
Ligur: It's not exactly...craftsmanship. Crowley: Head office don't seem to mind. They love me down there.
Hm.
I'm also reminded of the M25.
The M25 may not be as grand as a nebula (sentences you only say in GOmens fandom...), but LIKE his nebula it's an intricate, self-sustaining engine that does Crowley's work for him, many times over. Again.
That's some pretty neat characterization --and so is the indication towards Crowley's disinterest in victimizing anyone tempting individual people. It takes a considerable amount of planning and effort (and creeping about in wellies), but in accordance with his design the M25 generates a constant stream of low-grade evil on a gigantic scale.
Cumulatively gigantic, that is. Individually? Negligible.
But no other demon understands human nature well enough to parse that one million ticked-off motorists are not, in any meaningful way, actually equivalent to one dictator, or one mass-murderer, or even one little influential regressive. That's the trick of it. Crowley gets Hell's approval (which he NEEDS to survive, and to maintain the degree of freedom he's eked out for himself), and at the same time ensures that any actual ~Evil Influence~ is spread nice and thin.
It's some clever machinery. And he knows it, too:
The Unnamed Angel and Crowley are both proud of their ideas.
(musings on professional pride, Leonardo da Vinci, the crank handle, and 'the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale' under the cut)
In the 1970's Crowley gives a presentation on the M25, projector and all, to a room full of increasingly impatient demons. Maybe the presentation was work-ordered; the 'can I hear a WAHOO?' definitely wasn't.
Before the Beginning, the Unnamed Angel can barely contain his excitement about his nebula. Aziraphale manages a baffled-but-polite, "....That's nice... :)"
11 years ago, Hastur and Ligur want to 'tell the deeds of the day,' and Crowley smiles to himself because (according to the script-book) he knows he has 'the best one.'
(Naturally, his 'deed' has nothing to do with tempting anybody, and everything to do with setting up a human-powered Rube-Goldberg machine of petty annoyance. Oodles of 'Evil' generated; very little harm done.)
Hastur and Ligur don't get it, of course. That's also consistent.
Nobody ever knows what the hell he's talking about.
It didn't make it on-screen, but, in both the novel AND the script-book, Crowley was friends with Leonardo da Vinci. The quintessential Renaissance polymath. That's where he got his drawing of the Mona Lisa --they're getting very drunk together, and Crowley picks up the 'most beautiful' of the preliminary sketches. He wants to buy it. Leonardo agrees almost off-the-cuff, very casual, because they're friends, and because he has bigger fish to fry than haggling over a doodle:
He goes, "Now, explain this helicopter thingie again, will you?" Because he's an engineer, too.
(It is 1519 at the latest, in this scene. Why the FUCK would Crowley know about helicopters, and be able to explain them, comprehensively, to Leonardo da Vinci?
...Well. I choose to believe he got bored one day and worked it out. Look, if you know how to build a nebula, you can probably handle aerodynamics. And anyway, I think it's telling that this is his idea of shooting the shit. 'A drunken mind speaks a sober heart,' and all. He probably babbled about Aziraphale long enough to make poor Leo sick)
Apart from Aziraphale, Leonardo da Vinci is the only person Crowley has any keepsakes or mementos of.
Think about that, though. Aziraphale's bookshop is bursting with letters, paintings, busts, and personalized signatures memorializing all the humans he's known and befriended over 6000 years (indeed: Aziraphale has living human friends up and down Whickber Street. He's part of a community).
Crowley doesn't have any of that. It's just the stone albatross from the Church (for pining), the infamous gay sex statue (for spicy pining), the houseplants (for roleplaying his deepest trauma over and over, as one does), and this one piece of artwork, inscribed, "To my friend Anthony from your friend Leo da V."
To me, at least, that suggests a level of attachment that seems to be rare for Crowley.
...Maybe he liked having someone to talk shop with? Someone who was interested? Someone engaged enough to ask questions when they didn't immediately understand?
...Anyway.
There's also the matter of the crank handle.
This thing:
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This is one of the subtler changes from the book. In the book, Crowley knows Satan is coming and, desperate, arms himself with a tire iron. It's the best he can do. He's not Aziraphale; he wasn't made to wield a flaming sword.
The show, IMO, improves on this considerably. Now he, like Aziraphale, gets to face annihilation with what he was made for in his hand. And it's not a weapon, not even an improvised one like the tire iron.
He made stars with it.
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[both gifs by @fuckyeahgoodomens]
If you Google 'crank handle,' you'll get variations on this:
Crank handles have been around for centuries. Consisting of a mechanical arm that's connected to a perpendicular rotating shaft, they are designed to convert circular motion into rotary or reciprocating motion.
Which is to say they're one of the 'simple machines,' like a lever or a pulley; the bread and butter of engineering. You'll also get a list of uses for a crank handle, archaic and modern. Among them: cranking up the engine of an old-fashioned car... say, a 1933 Bentley. That's what Crowley has been using his for, lately. But he's had it since he was an angel and he's still, it seems, very capable of it's angelic applications.
Stopping time. For instance.
(This is conjecture on my part, but, I like to imagine that Crowley has the ability to stop time for the same reason I can --and should-- unplug my computer before I perform maintenance on it. Time and Space are a matched set, after all, and in his designs in particular, one feeds into the other.)
I know everyone has already said this, but: I REALLY LIKE that when he needs to channel the heights of his power, he does so not with a weapon but with a tool. Practically with a little handheld metaphor for ingenuity. One from long-lost days when he made beautiful things.
(And he loved it. Still loves it --he incorporated that metaphor into the Bentley, didn't he?)
Let Aziraphale rock up to the apocalypse with a weapon: he has his own compelling thematic reasons to do exactly that. Crowley's story is different, and fighting isn't the only way to express defiance. And if you've been condemned as a demon and assumed to be destructive by your very nature, what better way than this?
He made stars. They didn't manage to take that from him.
Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale are fighters, really --they have no intention of fighting in any war. They'll annoy everyone until there's no war to fight in, for a start. But between the two, if one must be, then that one is Aziraphale. Principality of the Earth, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Wielder of the Flaming Sword... all that stuff. Even if he'd prefer not to, it's very clear that Aziraphale can rise to the occasion, if he must.
Crowley was never that kind of angel. He wasn't a Principality. He doesn't have a sword.
...And yet.
It's Crowley who protects. He's the one who paces, who stands guard, who circles Aziraphale and glares out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near.
In light of everything else I've said here, I think that's interesting.
Obviously part of it is that Aziraphale enjoys it and, you know, good for him. He's living his best life, no doubt no doubt no doubt. But what about Crowley? What's driving that behavior, really?
Have you heard the phrase, 'loved to the point of invention'? Well, what if 'the point of invention' was where you started? What if where you end up involves glaring out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near? What is that, in relation to the bright-eyed thing you used to be?
What do we name the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale?
...Thinking about how an excitable angel with three million pages of star design he wants to tell you all about...becomes a guard dog. Is all.
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cyberjam · 10 months
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ATSV HEADCANON: they have a crush on you . . . ☆
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warnings - none really, super fluffy and adorable :), semi-proof read so i apologize for grammatical errors if there are any! no use of name or y/n, gender-neutral reader!
word count - 2.1k
main masterlist <3
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☆ . . . miles morales
I imagine you two already being well-acquainted friends with each other once he realized his feelings for you. For quite some time he had a crush on gwen but now his heart strings are pulling him towards you, so he's struggling when it comes to addressing his feelings.
If you're in the same room as Miles, he will stare. Any conversation that he was having before is long forgotten and all that's on his mind is you.
Miles doesn't need to study, he's one of the top students in school. But he continues to go on study dates with you because he likes being in your presence and sharing his headphones with you while eating yummy pastries.
He has an entire journal dedicated to you. Said journal includes: small journal entries of his day with you, little quotes of the funny/cute things you've said that stuck with him throughout the day, candid drawings of you that he created whenever you two hung out, cute sketches of you and him stargazing or slow-dancing together (and other secret drawings of him saving you as spider-man and cradling your body in his big strong arms but we won't get into that...)
Miles really can't get enough of you. He laughs extra loud at your jokes even if they aren't funny, his heartbeat quickens at the mention of your name, he'll offer you his jacket even if you don't need it, he always smiles when something reminds him of you, he'll share his headphones with you and shyly ask if you and him can make a "study playlist" (he listens to it at night while drawing you), and overall is just madly in love with you.
He wants to be with you more than anything, he's just struggling to find the right time to ask you. <3
"Hey, don't touch that! It's- No! It's not a diary, it's just...secret."
☆ . . . gwen stacy
She's pretty awkward herself. You were assigned to be partners for a project that would play a big part in your final grade, she came off slightly cold and seemed to be annoyed at your presence which made your relationship start off rocky. In reality she was just stressed, juggling her spider duties, getting kicked out of her house, and then school on top of that, it was just a lot. But when you made the effort to plan things and work around her busy schedule (that you didn't really know anything about) she started to become grateful for you.
Your parents welcomed her kindly each time she came over to study and whenever she would leave she was happy with a full belly and a sore face from smiling and laughing with you all night. The project was supposed to be done by the end of the semester but you and gwen were able to finish it the first month you got it. That didn't stop her bi-weekly visits, that then turned weekly, until she was suddenly walking home with you everyday, from and to school.
She likes to compare hands, shoes, and height just to see the difference in sizes. On walks back from school she'll give you a piggyback ride if you ask nicely. She also likes laying her head in your lap, if you run your fingers through her hair she'd be fast-asleep within 5 minutes.
You and her tend to share your oversized clothes together, You always wash her jackets/sweaters after you wear them, which she absolutely loves. She's fallen asleep curled up in your hoodie, inhaling the scent and listening to whatever song you rambled about the previous morning on repeat until she finally asks you to just make her a playlist. Hobie definitely knows about you, only because she slipped up by saying too much.
She enjoys staying over your house during rainy days. She tends to tense up whenever you're watching tv together on your bed and your head falls on her shoulder. During missions in other spider-verses gwen has taken little souvenirs from different worlds and given them to you, she always does it in a nonchalant way as if she wasn't grinning ear to ear on her way back, excited to see how you'd react.
You don't have sleepovers often but when you do they always seem more intimate than your usual hangouts. When you wake up and see gwen flustered on the other side of the bed you never understand why, not knowing that when you were fast asleep she woke up cuddled into you, nuzzling her body into yours.
"I-uhm. I-uh just had a weird dream. Nothing to worry about, heh.."
☆ . . . pavitr prabhakar
It's very obvious he has a crush on you, it might as well be written on his forehead. He follows you around like a lost puppy. He's constantly offering to carry your books, opening doors for you, paying for your snacks, and even giving you hand massages when you've been writing an essay for too long. He's just completely whipped for you and you're not even dating (yet).
You were a transfer student and he was assigned to show you around Mumbai. He found himself getting giddy at your cute reactions to the different sights he took you to. He adored how you were filled with so much curiosity and wonder, the awestruck look in your eyes when you saw the pretty lights at night and just how genuinely excited you seemed to stay and explore Mumbai. Since then, he's been glued to your side.
He's such a gentleman, you can tell he was raised right. Whenever you're talking his full attention is on you, nobody else matters in this moment but you. He'll even get a bit upset if someone cuts you off, ignoring whatever they're saying and urging you to continue. His legs feel wobbly around you, he gets dizzy at the sight of you, and he feels like he's floating whenever you smile at him.
There have been multiple occasions where you've caught him staring at you, depending on how he feels that day he'll either smirk and gently wave or quickly turn away with a blush on his face. He gushes about you to Hobie and Miles all of the time. They know so much about you and they've never even met you.
A true romantic. He buys you a singular flower one week out of the day, always explaining the meaning and where they originate from. (all of them are a variation of romance/love)
He tends to lean into you whenever you speak. More than one person has pointed out that you both tend to mirror each other's actions. He's feigning for your touch more than anything, a simple brush of your shoulders and he's full on putty in your hands.
He won't outright confront you when he figures out you like him, instead he'll invite you on a nightly walk. Taking you up to a rooftop with a gorgeous view, and gently resting his jacket on your shoulders. You'll sit for a while enjoying the scenery before he turns to you and says...
"a person as beautiful as yourself shouldn't wander this world alone.."
☆ . . . hobie brown
What a nightmare. He is constantly teasing and flirting with you. Always doubling over in laughter when he sees you get all flustered and the words you so badly wanna spew at him get stuck in your throat.
I imagine you both to be spider-people, you're a little more stuck-up than he is which is why he likes to tease you so much. Little by little your reactions fueled something deeper in him. He no-longer found himself flirting with you because he liked seeing how aggravated he could get you but because that was his way of approaching you and saying all of the things he wanted to while being able to play it off as a joke.
Besides teasing you relentlessly, he can be really caring and attentive to you when he wants to be. If you're in the medic he'll stop by pretty often to make sure you're okay. The only reason you found out is because you woke up to him fast asleep next to your bedside, feet propped on your bed and his vest laid across his torso like a blanket.
He'll eat the foods on your plate that you don't like. If you fall asleep he'll lay his vest onto your body and even move your position if it looks uncomfortable. If he senses danger before you he'll move you of the way as fast as he possibly can, but if he's not close enough he'll give you a heads up before anyone else. He tends to stare at you sometimes, always smiling gently to himself.
When you two get closer as friends he'll play any song on his guitar if you ask him nicely. He'll even give you lessons if you really want them. Carefully throwing his guitar over your torso, he brings his much larger hands to yours. You can feel his chest against your back, and the waves of his warm breath on your neck as he teaches you how to play. He'll also let you wear his jacket, saying it looks better on you than him. He might let you keep it, only in exchange for one of your jackets. (he sleeps with your jacket on, it makes him feel close to you.)
Hobie often checks up on you during missions, sometimes saying teasing phrases to get you riled up but mostly to make sure you're holding up okay. "you alright there, peaches? you took quite the hit."
Once he finds out you like him, he eases up on the teasing, but he doesn't refrain from dropping subtle hints of his knowingness that you like him. He's just waiting for you to finally say something.
"Yknow, if i ain't know any better i'd say you were doing this 'cause you like me."
☆ . . . miguel o' hara
You worked beside him in Alchemax, the two of you were assigned as partners. At first he didn't care much for you, simply telling you to stay out of his way and that he didn't need any help, but after Lyla practically forced him to be a cordial lab partner and work with you, he started to take a liking towards you. Sadly, it took months for him to tolerate you and even longer for him to like you.
Although he was quite stuck-up and practically seemed on edge most of the time, you were able to break through those confined walls and have a comfortable-playful work relationship with him. Every-time you made a joke or a light quip about his attitude he'd always respond with sarcasm, still not being able to hide the tiny smile that graced his face at your foolish acts.
He always runs his projects by you before submitting them. (and then lyla to triple check) He'll stop by and pick up empanadas from his favorite store, always boasting about how it's the best in Nueva York and you'll never taste anything better. Eventually he brings in a hefty share of empanadas that you two share over lunch time, your conversation flowing naturally without the teasing but with a fluffier feeling flowing through the air.
He pretends to be annoyed when he catches you over-working but he's genuinely worried for you. Always shaking his head in a disapproving way when he finds you fast asleep on your desk, papers scattered, and drool falling past your lips. Quietly scolding you in spanish before throwing his lab coat over your shoulders and organizing your papers neatly.
He tends to act unbothered when you do something that shows you care for him but in reality it makes his heart stutter and his stomach feel all loopy. He hates it because it makes him feel like a middle-schooler when they get their first crush but another part of him absolutely adores it and his main motivation to get up to go to work in the morning is you, although he'll never admit it.
If a co-worker is ever rude to you he will be the first to defend you, not hesitating to get in their face with a nasty scowl painting his features. On Friday's he made it his personal mission to walk you home, you two slowly walk side-by-side, quietly laughing to yourselves as you reminisce on lab accidents and old memories. There's a slight gleam in his eyes when you make it to your apartment door. He turns to you almost hesitantly, before stepping closer to you. He whispers a question, so quiet and soft you almost wouldn't be able to hear it.
"Can I kiss you?"
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omg i hope you guys liked it! requests are still open btw and thank you for reading! <3
likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33
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harunovella · 2 months
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ love language (verse ii); s.g.
synopsis: when gojo satoru first interacted with you content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo and reader saving a kitten (a moment straight out of a romcom for sure), not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: truly didn't think the first part to this anthology series would gain such attention! thank u for that! again, these can be read as a standalone (or connected to this one, but you don't have to read it); enjoy and lmk if u want more!
It was this specific cherry blossom tree Satoru always found you under. The one Kento mentioned the first time he ever asked him about you. If you weren't busy with training or missions, or enjoying life outside the jujutsu world, he found you there. Although there was an array of trees, there was one specific one you seemed to gravitate towards. 
He wasn't sure if it was the specific spot that had good lighting for when you wanted to read or sketch in your little book, or maybe it was the way the roots formed a perfect spot to sit in between... whatever it was, he knew it to be your tree. Even when you weren't around. There was something... welcoming about it. Whenever he walked by with Suguru and Shoko nearby, or whenever he was aimlessly wandering around, he always found himself peeking in its direction, hoping you were sitting underneath it. 
For a confident young man, it took Gojo some time to make his way to you. Claiming to love you when he hadn't even uttered a word in your direction was bold, even going as far as believing you were his soulmate was quite the exaggeration. So why was it hard for him to simply say hello? 
Maybe it was because he wasn't a simple person. Nothing about Gojo Satoru screamed simple. He was anything but that. Yet, a task as easy as that—which came naturally to any other girl around him—was a hassle. Each time he thought he found the courage to step up, he let his racing heart deter him. 
That was until you made the first move. 
It caught him completely off guard, the way you gently tapped his arm from behind, peeking up at him with that sweet smile of yours. His heart did somersaults, his eyes widened behind his round frames, so big that his shades couldn't even hide them. He had been on one of his little walks, new treat in hand that Shoko bribed him with in order to practice her reverse curse technique on him. He was bored, completing his missions and not having much to train on when he already excelled at everything. 
At everything except talking to the girl of his dreams. 
"Hi," you kindly greeted, smile reaching your eyes. Oh, god, you were an angel. A being descended from up above. How could you exist so easily in such a cruel world? He needed to protect you, right? Even if he could see your cursed energy oozing out so brightly. You must've been powerful, something he never considered, always looking at you like you were some little bunny to keep in his pocket... not one who could possibly kick the shit out of him (if he'd let you and he definitely would). "Can you help me out?"
"Pretty..." the words slipped his mouth before he could even process them. Quickly sealing his lips and clearing his throat as you tilted your head, Satoru straightened his back. "What is it?"
Dismissing the sudden word vomit, assuming he was in his own world, you pointed to the left of you. "I sit under those trees, but I keep hearing soft meows coming from one of them. I'm too short to reach... do you think—"
"Yes," the white haired young man instantly nodded as you blinked. Without a second word, he turned on his heel and stalked towards the tree that you claimed your own. 
You, a bit baffled, were unsure as to how exactly he knew which tree you had been pointing at when it was a general direction. Yet, there he was, approaching the tree you were referring to. "It's quite high up, but you're very tall!" You called out before following after him, lightly jogging to catch up before stopping behind him as he eyed the tree. 
In reality, Gojo didn't think any of it through. He just wanted to say yes to be around you, to hear you speak more. Not... to climb up a tree to save a stray kitten. But, whatever made him look better in his eyes, he didn't mind. 
"Be careful!" You exclaimed as you watched him make his way up the tree, no hesitations. You were a bit surprised that someone so easily wanted to help you save a cat. Maybe he liked animals, too?
Or maybe he was a fool madly in love with you—you wouldn't know this yet. 
"Oh, there! You've got 'em!" You clapped as you watched the uniformed young man gently reach for and latch onto the small, white kitten. 
"Ah, don't worry, I'm only here to help you," Gojo said, carefully pulling the kitten towards himself. "I've got you, you're safe now. I just gotta figure out—"
"Watch out!" You shrieked.
"Shit!" Satoru yelped as he lost his balance, clutching the kitten close as he slipped from the branch. Landing with a loud thud, followed by several groans of pain (and pure embarrassment... when did he ever make himself look like a complete fool?!), Gojo rolled around with his eyes closed. 
"Are you alright?!" You panicked, rushing over and kneeling at his side, gently lifting his head with one hand as your other pressed carefully against his shoulder, eyeing his body for any wounds. 
"Agh... dammit..." he grunted, eyes fluttering open and adjusting to the brightness of the sun. Blinking a few times, blurred vision focusing, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of you. Your hair that was usually held back by its ribbon, cascaded around your face as a few strands slipped out from the ponytail. With eyebrows narrowed and a look of worry on his face, Satoru's embarrassment turned into that of timidness. You were engulfed by the sunlight, glowing like the angel you were. "Gosh, you're so pretty..."
"Are you okay?" You asked in a panic, his mumbled words coming off too slurred to understand. "Did you hit your head too hard?"
Shaking his head as he forced himself to sit up, Gojo rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. "No, 'm fine..." he sighed before looking down at his hands to the kitten. "So is this little guy."
Turning your attention from the white haired young man, to the matching kitten, you gasped, "what a hero!"
Grinning and feeling the heat rise to his cheeks, Gojo shrugged, "eh, ''twas nothing..."
"You almost broke a few bones, though..." you frowned, looking back at him. 
"I'm tough," he brushed off before turning to face you. Now eye to eye, the sudden confidence instantly sizzled away as he gazed at you from up close. A sudden silence weaved between the two of you as your eyes locked, nothing but the sounds of nature and the kittens purring filled the air. "I..."
"Um..."
"You should keep it," Satoru suddenly said, handing you the kitten. "Deserves a nice home."
"Oh, me?" You asked as you took the kitten in your hands, caressing its soft, white fur. 
"Yeah, I wouldn't be a good dad," he chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You... You'd be a great mom to it, I'm sure."
Eyeing the kitten, then looking back up at him, you smiled, "we can coparent."
At your offer, Gojo gulped. "Co... parent?"
"Yeah, like, help me out with..." lifting the kitten up, you squinted your eyes, "her."
"I... I don't know much about taking care of animals but I can try and help as much as I can," he offered, scratching his head nervously. 
Smiling, you brought the kitten close to your chest, "you saved her from a tree, I'm sure she will remember that."
"Yeah, maybe," Satoru blushed.
Looking down at the kitten as you pet her, listening to her gentle purring, you happily sighed, "what's your name?"
Quickly pointing at himself, the blue eyed boy asked, "mine?"
"Mhm," you nodded. 
"Gojo. Gojo Satoru. You can call me Satoru, though," he nearly blurted out as you chuckled before giving him yours. 
"Well, Satoru," you beamed as he melted at the sound of his name slipping off your tongue, "I think I'll name her after you."
"Wha— Satoru? But... she's a girl?" He tilted his head with furrowed eyebrows. 
"I was thinking of a nickname," you said before looking down at the kitten. "I'll name her Toru. It's cute, right?"
Nodding slowly, then faster, Gojo agreed. "Yeah, Toru is cute."
Lifting your gaze to meet his, you gave him a toothy smile. "Toru it is."
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januaryembrs · 7 days
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BLACK CAT GIRLFRIEND | Spencer Reid x reader
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request: Hey Congratulations on the 2K! Do you think you could write something with Spencer Reid and a Reader who has lots of tattoos and/or piercings? Like she's the whole "bad girl" stereotype but Spencer and her complement each other so well and have a very sweet and mature relationship. I would love something like that.
description: the team meet Spencer's new girlfriend and she doesn't look quite like they'd imagined
word count: 1.1k
main masterlist
authors note: I officially hit 2k followers this morning!! see my post here for requesting but lets start this milestone off with a bang!! thankyou so much :))))))
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Morgan had to admit, you weren’t exactly what he’d envisioned when Pretty Boy had been talking his ear off for months about the girl in his apartment building that had slipped him your number. He wasn’t judgemental, not by a longshot, but Spencer had always seemed like the type to date the preppy, library geek, or even the cutesy geneticist if Maeve had been anything to go off of. 
It’s not like you weren’t hot, he could see that you were a mile away, but you looked like you’d sooner break someone’s wrist for so much as talking to you than fall for their resident genius. 
You smiled tightly, shaking Derek’s hand with a crushing grip, as Spencer introduced you to his team, the obnoxiously loud bass almost drowning out his words as the six of you stood in the bar. 
“Nice to meet you, Spencer talks about you all the time,” You said politely, and no sooner had you let go of the man’s warm hand, two arms were thrown over your shoulders and you were tugged into a hug. 
“I’m Penelope- oh you’re so pretty, Morgan isn’t she so pretty? You should marry Spencer then you can be boyfriend girlfriend for, like, life-” The perky voice was all a jumble as the blonde pulled away, cupping your face, rubbing down your arms kindly, sweetly, like you were swallowing a warm spoon of honey. 
“Penelope, newbie rules, remember,” Emily chimed in, seeing your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of personal space. She could see this ending with the pretty pink bows Garcia had plaited her hair in torn to shreds on the sticky floor, right next to her long barbie locks if your intimidating figure was anything to go off, “Not everyone likes hugs,”
“No, no,” You replied, smiling gently at the woman who was softer than cotton candy, “Hugs are nice,” 
“We’re going to be very best friends, I can feel it, which is funny because my tarot actually said I’d meet a strong Taurus woman- or are you a Scorpio-” Penny’s smile was dazzling, but she was soon ushered to let go of the bear like grip she had on your shoulders by a chuckling Morgan.
“Let the other kids play with her, babygirl,” He said, and you were pulled in another direction towards Emily who gave a polite handshake. 
“Nice ink,” She said with raised brows as she saw the intricate sketches that covered the back of your hands, trailing up your arm and under the band tee you wore. She knew who they were, though they only dragged up memories of her own days of thick eyeliner and rebelling against her mother. “They must have hurt like a bitch, I got one on my hip and could barely sit for one hour,” 
You snickered, nodding, seeing her eyes trailing over the ones on your ankles and knees where your ripped jeans flashed them all. 
“Bones hurt the most, though the one on my ass is up there for the worst ones,” You replied, and Penny’s brows shot into her hairline, though she giggled like a schoolgirl being told a secret.
“I think we’re gonna need to see the proof on that one,” Morgan teased flirtily, the way he always did, the way he did even with JJ who had a whole child and partner, because it was his natural state of being. 
Spencer smiled as his team warmed to you, though he was quick to pull you to him with a gentle arm around the waist. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Derek, that man was practically his brother, he’d taken bullets for the guy, but he liked having you close, even if to just remind himself that you were all his, including said tattoo on your buttcheek that he’d seen plenty of times. 
The team didn’t need to know that, but you could tell your words had reminded him of it as he pressed a shy kiss behind your ear.
He was careful to avoid the studs and links that glittered from your ear lobe, wrapping over the cartilage on your helix, though he loved to stare at them on nights where you tied your hair up and he could count every one of them. To him you were a work of art, complex and detailed with every glance he stole. You were an illustration in one of his many books, everything he imagined for himself times a million. 
“I’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” You said, looking up at him with puppy eyes, like a lovestruck teenager, fat adoration in your gaze. It oozed out of every inch of you, and JJ thought for a moment that you looked nothing like the scary doberman woman that Spence had originally brought over to meet them. You looked in love, the saccharine, soft and dazed kind of in love. 
“Let me get it for you,” Spencer rooted around his pocket for his wallet, turning to see Morgan’s beer bottle running low, “You having another one?”
“I’m good, my man, you just sort yourself and your lady out,” Derek flashed him a thousand watt smile and clapped him on the shoulder as you entwined your fingers with his, pulling him through the cluster of people and towards the bar, “What a stud,” 
Penelope giggled again, leaning towards her adonis best friend with honeyglow cheeks, watching their genius get led like a dog on a leash. 
“Oh lover boy had got it bad,” She drawled, watching Reid, their Reid, develop an uncharacteristically protective stance as a few men at the bar shot looks up and down your body. She couldn’t blame them either, you were a sight for sore eyes. “Okay, so do I have to be the first one to point out how hot she is or have I maybe had one too many margaritas?” 
“She seems nice,” JJ chose her words carefully, still not entirely sure she would have ever put the two of you together but she saw the way Spence’s eyes got round and longing when he looked over you. He’d clearly said something to make you laugh, and an inked hand raised up to brush his chocolate curls out of his face lovingly, “She seems good for him,”
A murmur of agreement ran through the four of them, Emily taking one more sip of her martini as her eyes roved over your figure returning with something fruity and colourful, “Anyone else dying to know what’s on her ass?” 
-
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oops-all-concrete · 3 months
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Okay, you lovelies voted for fluff, so you're getting fluff! Welcome to:
BG3 companions react to: Tav drawing the companions in their sketch book! (Romance implied)
Beware spoilers and cuteness ahead, please enjoy!
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Lae'zel -
Eventually she gets irritated of being stared at, while Tav is sat pencil in book and puts down her sword from being sharpened, and paces over. "Chk. You've been ogling at me like a child for at least ten minutes. Is it with purpose or are you simply bad at keeping to yourself?" She asks, head tilted with wide eyed threat. Once she gets a glance at the page, she softens, jaw unclenching, shoulders dropping. She admires the sketch before she realises she too, is staring. "Hmm. Acceptable. Continue" Before she returns to her tent, and totally doesn't stay stiller on purpose.
Shadowheart -
Shadowheart doesn't suspect a thing, until she passes by them and totally doesn't take a glance in the journal from over Tavs shoulder. She pauses and appreciates the work long enough for Tav to realise they're being watched. "Oh don't mind me. I'm just appreciating my good side from your point of view." She smiles. "Oh, we should draw each other! I haven't sketched in so long, but I'd like for you to see what I see too." She offers, going and grabbing her own sketch set, sitting beside Tav, comfortably drawing them.
Wyll -
He allows Tav their privacy, even if they stare sometimes. He needs to be physically shown because he is too polite to snoop or look over their shoulder. Upon being shown, he smiles, but winces a little. "Oh, I love it, don't get me wrong. You've captured the Blade of Frontiers in all his glory...just, all his glory with horns and the devil's details" He chuckles, trying not to seem dissappointed. But upon another look, his eyes become wider with wonder. "...you know what, if thats what I look like to you, it's not as bad as I thought." He smiles.
Karlach -
She's nosy, okay? So when Tav puts down their book to help Gale with dinner, she sneaks a little peek, grabbing the pages with a clean cloth. She however, gives herself away immediately. "WOAH??" The whole camp turns but Karlach does not take notice. "SOLDIER?? YOU DREW THIS?? THIS IS AMAZING!" She yells, eyes bright, brows up, grin wide with teeth. The camp settles while dinner happens, but later in the evening, she pulls Tav aside to show them something. Upon a large empty plot of just dirt, Tav finds their face messily drawn with a stick into the dirt. "Can't quite draw right now, or ever really, but I wanted you to have a portrait too. Not bad, eh?"
Gale -
"Oh, and who's that handsome fellow?" He smirks, catching sight of the page one day. He asks for a better look and takes a moment to admire the sketch, before frowning. "Did you...draw me with gray hairs? Am I graying??" He asks, a hand combing through his so well maintained mane. "You didn't know?" Astarion weighs in, finding an opportunity to bully the wizard. "For a human, you are at that age, are you not, Gale?" Lae'zel adds. The wizard makes an almost theatric gasp, crossing his arms. "Gray suits you Gale!" Karlach insists, taking the drawing from Gale and admiring it. Gale pauses, looks again, and grins. "Now that you mention it..."
Astarion -
"Okay, so, that's clearly not any of the imbeciles over there, what handsome young men have you been seeing without me?" He jokes. It takes a minute, but the way Tav looks between Astarion and the book, gives it away. "...oh. That's me?" He seems to entirely lose his ability to speak. He gestures to take the book and have a better look, running his hand over the sketches, and then over his face, seeming almost confused. When prompted, he clears his throat. "Well, it's- ah, certainly flattering. Nice to have such a flattering mirror" He smiles, slipping back into his more confident persona. "In fact, I'd love to keep such a flattering masterpiece, if that would be quite alright with you?" He smiles confidently, but the way his eyes stray to the sketch tells all.
Bonus! The older generation
Halsin -
"I cannot recall the last time I have received a portrait in such likeness." He smiles fondly when Tav shows him the piece. "Might I take this back to the Grove? I'm particularly fond of anything you do really- but especially this" He asks, warm smile spread over his face. Should Tav allow it, he gives the best hug in thanks, promising to return the flattery in kind. (Yes, it will be whittling)
Jaheira -
Of course she gets a look while Tav is distracted. "Not bad. Better that bard songs, that's for sure" She smiles, nodding at the adventurer. She takes a second look and thinks for a moment. "...When did my face get so wrinkly?" She asks in a vaguely dissapointed wonder.
Minsc -
"Oh, my friend, you have a talent of flattery!" He claps and grins when he sees the work, but seems to be looking for something. "Oh- Erm, might I ask a question...where is Boo? You cannot have the great Minsc without his tiny, fluffy brain on his shoulder!" He asks, proudly producing the hamster in hand. Tav turns the page to reveal quite a few sketches of Boo. "What?? Did Boo pose for these?? How is he so accurately cute?? BOO, YOU LOOK ADORABLE! WHY DID NOBODY TELL MINSC IT WAS PORTRAIT DAY??"
Thank you for reading! Let me know what you'd like to read next. I have another poll coming soon as well 👀
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ruporas · 10 months
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endless love!
[ID Two drawing collage pages of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. In the first collage, top corner, Wolfwood looks upwards disgruntled with a flushed expression, lying against a pillow, as his hair is being pet by Vash's hand. Next shows Vash and Wolfwood from behind, Wolfwood with his top bare and hickies covers around his nape area. Vash lifts hair away from his nape and asks, "More?" Wolfwood nervously says, "No." Next is a side profile of Vash, his arms around Wolfwood from behind while Wolfwood rests his hands against Vash's arms. Next to this are two smaller drawings; Vash turns to Wolfwood and says repetitively, "Wolfwood, Wolfwood..." Wolfwood, not looking at him, says "What?" He finally turns his head and looks shocked as he exclaims, "So close!" Vash says plainly, "You just noticed?" Below these is a drawing of Vash and Wolfwood sitting together as Vash kisses and hugs him from behind with his right arm around Wolfwood's neck and his left hand around his side. He also has his right leg propped against Wolfwood's knee. Bottom of the page has a comic. Wolfwood looks annoyed, speaking to himself, "Where is that idiot?! Need to get out of town before--" A chat bubble exclaims, "Wolfwood!" The next panel shows Vash running from the townspeople, small text saying "Get him! Vash the stampede!". Wolfwood, mad and about to pull the Punisher off his shoulder, says, "Argh, you fucking dumbass!" Vash exclaims, "Ah, don't!" before pulling Wolfwood into a quick kiss. He then tugs on Wolfwood's collar and says, "There's no need to shoot, just run!" Wolfwood stammers, "R-right..." with a flushed, dumbstruck expression.
Second collage; Top left, Wolfwood spoons Vash in bed, his arms around his chest and the other beneath Vash's head. Vash has his hand on top of Wolfwood's as he sleeps while Wolfwood lies awake. Behind this drawing is faint sketches of Vash's face. In a small panel, Wolfwood hides in Vash's neck as he mumbles to himself "Stop. Stop thinking embarrassing things, Wolfwood..." Beneath this drawing is another of them in bed, Vash now turned to Wolfwood and a hand on his cheek as he kisses him good morning. In a simpler style, Vash wraps an arm tightly around wolfwood with the text "snork mimimi" next to him while Wolfwood says, "We need to get up. Spikey! HEY!" In this corner, there are faint sketches of Vash and Wolfwood; one of them looking at each other; Vash kissing Wolfwood's forehead; Wolfwood saying, "Hand" with an outstretch hand and Vash says "ok" behind a drawing of them holding hands, both turned away from each other shyly. Next is a 4 panel comic. First shows Wolfwood's face getting squished by Vash's hands with the text "squish" around his face. Next, his cheeks are stretched with the text "Chee--" Wolfwood then hits Vash's face with his palm, exclaimining "That hurts!" The last shows Vash on Wolfwood's lap, smiling to himself as he continues to have Wolfwood's face in his hands. Next to this is another comic; A close up of their hands, Vash holding Wolfwood's with both of his. He then kisses the palm of Wolfwood's palm and says, "They're soft!" Wolfwood looks at him with flushed cheeks, "There's no way that's true..." END ID]
#vashwood#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#trigun#trigun maximum#just posting first for now!!! wanted to have these two spreads together grah#ive been weirdly selective when it comes to posting on tumblr but i really need to start dropping everything from twitter/insta onto here...#anyway what is there to say... i like to just draw them being in love and silly. there are so many flavors to vw#and i so happened to really enjoy the intimate sickeningly affectionate aspect of it... lays down...#give these two touch and loved starved selfless individuals the chance to pour their entire being into loving the other....#thoguh in particular i drew these both for wolfwood wednesday (which is everyday to me) so theyre wolfwood centric#i think for some time i was just seeing a lot of work of vash being loved by wolfwood and obviously that makes sense#ww loves that fool so much and will love him two times as much for the love vash refuses to give himself#but i also love wolfwood and desperately needed to see wolfwood being loved so i drew it#bc it goes both ways... i def believe that ww would be adamant about giving affection to vash at first bc vash would hesitate asking#but once he gets comfortable vash's love pours and he'd noticed too that ww avoids getting spoiled affectionately bc of his own issues#vash is. stubborn to me. more so than wolfwood. he will destroy him with love!!!!!!!!!!!#and wolfwood will adjust and get used to it. being loved. loving. steadily but slowly as his days are filled with soft touches and reminders#that he's being handled gently and with care for the first time in a long time#ruporas art
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inthelquvre · 3 months
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just the sweetest thought of drawing on luke’s back…
warnings: use of y/n once, barley any dialogue, flufffff
a/n: oh lord… this was meant to be very short but i got carried away😭i hope to improve my writing skills in the near future! pls lmk how you feel abt this and pls pls sent requests!!!
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sneaking out past curfew was against camp rules, everyone knew this. but luke was a counselor, couldn’t he get a free pass to see his girlfriend? you and him thought yes. there were countless nights the two of you had either snuck out to sit by the lake or venture to each others cabin for the night just to have to sneak out early the next morning.
of course, all this sneaking around had its moments of regret. once you had comfortably situated yourself beside luke when a kid woke up claiming she had a headache. in the dim lighting of the cabin at night all she could see was the unfamiliar silhouette of a woman in luke’s bed. she let out a scream, calling for luke, claiming there was a “scary lady” in his bed only to find luke laying next to said scary lady. the two of you tried your best to keep her from waking the others, but it was too late. the once calm hermes cabin was bustling with fearful campers. you were quick to jump out of the bed and assured everyone that you were not there to hurt them, the girl raised an eyebrow at you.
it was unfortunate, but you and luke were forced to reveal your secret to the hermes children. on the bright side, neither of you had to worry about someone seeing you now.
tonight, you drug you slippered feet over the dirt path leading to the hermes cabin wearing a sweatshirt that wasn’t your own snd that smelt like campfire smoke and wood. it was a size too big for your frame, but like has left it over in your cabin too many times to be an accident so you decided to keep it.
everyone was already sleeping, everyone but luke. he sat on his bed impatiently waiting for you to show up. it had become second nature to the two of you, and luke could barley lay down without the comfort of you beside him. his ears had become ultra sensitive to any sounds, waiting to hear the familiar gentle knock on the window closest to his bed; yet the only noise was the soft snoring or the rustling of bedsheets from the other hermes children sleeping soundly.
his hands found their way to a battered and bruised notebook sitting on his bedside table. you, apollos daughter, the artist, had left your notebook in luke’s room once again. to you, it was a simple and annoying show of your own forgetfulness. but to luke it was so much more. at lunch in the mess hall you would often sketch, but you didn’t let anyone see it. to be honest, luke did really want to see what you were up to all this time but he respected your decision for privacy. but this, your notebook in his room meant (at least to him) that you trusted him. and that’s what mattered most to him.
a short and simple sound of three knocks on the glass window made luke immediately jump up. your figure stood outside the window and his face got red and hot upon seeing his big hoodie over your body. his hands move almost like clockwork as they unlock the window and slide it up, taking a moment to look down at you. you smiling up at him, you who already knows what he’s about to say.
“the doors unlocked, y’know.” he says in a hushed tone as his hand reached out to you. “always is for you.”
you smiled up at him, taking his and in yours. “i know,” once inside luke didn’t waste anytime before pulling you into his strong and comfortable embrace.
“i missed you.” he mumbled into your hair, pressing ghosts of kisses against your skin. his delicate hands expertly traveled down your body to rest on your waist. “i’m literally like, crazy for you, girl.” in between his words like couldn’t stop pressing kisses to your forehead as he pulled you down to the mattress.
a muffled groan came from only one bunk down, causing you to stifle your breaths. luke’s love struck eyes looked up at you as he situated himself on top of the thin sheets. “i’m crazy for you, too.” you pressed a kiss onto the space where his skin and think shirt met, a silent gesture that luke immediately followed up to, peeling the material from his body.
even after months of dating luke still fell victim to the way your eyes graced his body. he felt as if he was one of the gods the children at camp worshipped from the way you kissed all the right spots and told him all the right things. son of theives, and yet you were still the one who stole his heart.
luke went to lay on his stomach, the way he always did with you. but instead of you under him, he frowned when you didn’t lay next to him. “baby,” he whined in a sleepy voice and you felt your heart flutter.
“you trust me, right?” you fingers gently traces the muscles around his shoulders. truth be told, luke trusted you with his life. if the world was crumbling to the ground you would be the one luke would run to. the stars could fall from the sky at any moment and luke would grab them and give them to you. if he had the power, he would make you a goddess. he trusted you to be a better immortal than any of them ever had.
he nodded. “of course, always.”
you hummed a soft response. luke wanted to stay awake, he wanted to see what you had in store for him, but with sleep threatening to plague his mind and the comforting feeling of you sitting on his back was enough to knock him out for the night.
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there was no such thing as sleeping in while living in the hermes cabin, so luke rose as the sun did. not to his surprise, you had slipped out the door before he could kiss you good night.
if it weren’t for chirons glares or the endless jokes from the hermes kids and your half-siblings, you would spend every night with luke, really.
and yet this morning luke woke up to the right side of his bed empty and a post it note stuck to his forehead. the yellow paper read: “you fell asleep before i left, see you tomorrow xoxo” reading it made luke feel weak with admiration, he carefully folded up the paper and slid it into his pillowcase.
sun shone through the tallest tree tops down onto camp half blood as the early risers began to scatter themselves across camp, participating in multiple activities. the weekend were always dullers, yet far more calm then the usual routine of the regular week. one of the preferred activities for some of the older campers was the occasional weekend getaway to the lake. there was a secluded lake clearing just a small walk off from the path, hidden deep in the woods; but the older ones liked to take their own days off, basking in the sand or wading in the cool water.
today, both you and luke had been invited by clarisse to spend the day together at the clearing. you obviously agreed, and you spent the whole morning packing a day backpack for yourself and luke, filled with water bottles and snacks and towels, not forgetting luke’s favorite bikini of yours wore under your camp shirt and cutoff denim shorts.
just before the clock struck 9am, luke found himself waiting for you to finish doing your hair before heading out for the day. “i dunno,” you continued you rambling to your boyfriend as he admired you through the mirror. “maybe sword fighting isn’t for everyone. especially not me, i mean, archery i can do. hand to hand, yeah sure. but sword fighting.” after making sure your hair was suitable for swimming and sitting in the sun all day you turned to luke, who looked at you as if you had just graced him with the blessing of the sun.
“i think your good.” he shrugged, picking up your backpack and slinging it over his shoulder, his hand locking with yours out of instinct as you began to walk.
you shoved his shoulder playfully. “you’re my boyfriend, you have to say that.” he sent you a grin back.
the walk to the clearing was peaceful. birds singing to each other while butterflies told secrets to the flowers. as you got closer you could already hear the joyful sound of your friends laughing and already playing in the water.
walking out of the forest onto the rocky ground you and luke were immediately greeted by chris, dean, and clarisse with smiles and laughter. while you hugged your friends hello luke took the liberty of taking your light yellow beach towel and lay it out for you for later. of course, he knew you better than you knew yourself, and he knew that right after you exited the cool and refreshing water your body would shiver and he would be the one to wrap you in his arms to warm you up.
leaving your tee shirt and shorts of the rocks you patiently waited for luke to do the same. he made a silly face then shed the layer of cloth covering his chest.
much to his surprise, chris and dean burst out into laughter. luke’s brow furrowed. “what?” he looked to you for reassurance, and you just smiled.
“i think you got a little something on your back, luke.” chris snickered while clarisse shoved him roughly, that shut him up. luke craned his neck, trying to see what was on him.
you grabbed his shoulders and turned his back to you. his skin was tan from the summer sun, but on top of that was an array of doodles and drawings that covered him from his shoulders to lower back. his muscled back was now delicately traced over with by flowers and stars. the sun and moon kissing each other good night. in your mind it had been you and luke.
luckily, your friend blair came equipped with her own digital camera. “oh! y/n, luke, smile!” she exclaimed. you smiled at the camera with a hand on luke’s shoulder, his back was to the camera but the tattoos decorating his skin were radiant in the sunlight leaking through the trees. it hadn’t been your intention to draw on luke’s back, but once you started you couldn’t stop, artistic mind letting all your emotions fade onto luke’s shoulders and spine. you drew you and him as flowers, as trees, as stars. there was always an invisible string tying the two of you together throughout every universe, every life time.
blair was convincing enough to have chiron to let her print the photos from that day at the clearing. she gifted you and luke the best photo of you posing next to your art, luke’s hand in yours and you grinned happily. after spending another night in luke’s bed, you left the photo on his nightstand.
he hung the photo on his wall next to his pillow to remind him of not only how talented you were, but how much you loved him, to be able to grace him with your talent.
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