#this book genuinely never gets old huh. i can read it over and over. can't say that about many books. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writing-for-me-at-this-point · 1 year

Note

Heyoooo! I was wondering if the Iseo that you posted about Soap and reader drifting apart after they decided to have a 3some wit ghost was a 1 part thing? If not can their be another extremely angsty part 2?

Cheers, To Us | John "Soap" MacTavish | COD: Modern Warefare II

[ Original ANGST Post, Part One ]

Warnings. mentions of cheating/growing distant, unfulfilled relationships, lowkey toxic relationships

Reader. Fem!reader, female reader, reader has braids, reader is American (American coded? Can't fuckin remember lmao)

AN. I wrote this within the span of one hour and nearly 25 hours with no sleep. Pls enjoy

Tags: @rey26 @trash-important @l1anaisasasama @thatanonymouschocolate (I saw you were looking for part one so here's part two lol) @bbaengtan @corvusmorte @uwu-i-purple-you (saw you guys asking fkr the first one in comments and decided yall might want one AND two lol)

Rain falls, heavy and unforgiving, and your mood seems to dampen along with the ground. Curled into the window seat, the lamp light leaves a warm, dim, tone to wash over you, and a book in hand as your head rests against the lush pillows and curtains. You tried your best to move on, to find peace, and maybe allow yourself to find it as well. God knows you tried.

“Beba, you really gonna sit there and mope, or actually read the book?” Your friend calls out, breaking you from the beginning of a spiral into another descent of depression and anxiety, and a sigh leaves you as the book is shut and tossed to the nearest coffee table.

“Neither.” You groan, meeting her in the kitchen as groceries and necessities are unpacked and put away in the correct areas, allowing you to move and sit at the bar and watch quietly. The silence is comfortable, and your mind settles, something that gratefulness cannot even begin to touch as a description.

“So, you going back? Saw some emails from old friends…” She starts, deep brown eyes staring deeply into yours, before yours find the back of your head, and she only laughs at your antics. She's finished placing things away, and opens the cabinet, the clanking of glass makes you wince just a bit.

“Maybe, not too sure yet.” You start, before a glass comes to your countertop, a vodka bottle soon filling it before filling the cup further from you.

“But?”

“But, Laswell has a place for me through some connections. Intell is always needed, and some guy… eh what's his name?” You wonder aloud, moving to take a sip of the hard liquor, pursing your lips together as you get more… acquired with the taste once again.

“D-Day! That's his name… Wayne “D-Day” Davis” You’re proud of remembering the name.

“That's… a name. A real American, huh?” Your friend snorts, turning away quickly before coming back, leaning against the countertop and nearly finishing her drink there.

“Take it easy, girlie. You’re not the uprooted one here.” You laugh, and she continues on, shaking her head.

“Uprooted. How is that, by the way? Enjoying being back home, rather than Scotland?” It’s genuine, and your eyes still water at the name of your old… home. An old life. One broken away from, because of a stupid decision, one you hate, but had to move on from.

It doesn’t hurt as much as it used to.

“Come on, Hen. Talk to me, please.” His hands move to your hips, desperately trying to grab at you, gentle enough to let you leave, but firm enough to let you know he wants you in his hold.

Stay. Please. He begs in his mind.

“Get away from me, John. I can’t do this right now.” You move from his hands, going to change out of your pajamas into clothing, ready to get things ready for the day. You’re exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally. You wanted to be free of this. Of him. Even if it’s killing you, and your soul would damn you for leaving a love like this behind, but the pain was too much- and you didn’t want this anymore.

It’s not like he’d care.

He has different… priorities.

“Well, when can ya? Ya never seem to have the time for me. Or us.” He’s choked up, and you can imagine the tears welling up in his eyes, but you didn’t find your heart weeping for him like it would have months ago.

You stop moving, tense, dead silent. John can only regret his words and actions so much, but when you’ve been acting like this, he feels more justified in his feelings for Ghost.

But he wanted you too, he wanted you back and normal again. Happy to see him, in love, always talking his ear off and eating the food he’d make for you. The happiness in the air whenever he came home from being gone for months on end at times.

Months… with Ghost. As much as he missed you, he was never as lonely as you were, huh? Never as loyal.

Maybe he should have expected this.

“Well you seem to have the time for Ghost. Why don’t you go to him? It’s what you’ve been doing anyways.” You grit through your teeth, moving across the room to finally change, deciding on what you needed to do first. From the embassy to the lawyer, your mind is running wild and John begging at your hip like a lost puppy isn't helping.

“That’s not fair, Hen…” He whispers, standing in the same place, watching you throw on your clothing and tuck your braids into your hood, desperate to keep warm from the chill. Lord knows “Johnny” wasn’t going to warm you anytime.

“It isn’t fair I lost my husband to a Ghost. Looks like nothings fair nowadays.” You go on, pushing past John to grab your phone and wallet from the nightstand, not responding to his small “goodbye” as you leave the room, and the house soon after.

Yeah, nothing seemed to be fair. Not for him. And especially not for you.

“I’ll be fine. Probably gonna focus on work… friends… family.” You mumble into your drink, deciding to mimic your friend's earlier actions and take a large swing of the liquor, needing to numb your mind for a quick second.

“But not yourself?” She mused, tilting her head, a sad smile gracing her face.

“You would know how to do that best, I’m guessing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Focusing on yourself, and only yourself, after a break up,” She rolled her eyes at you, finding irony in your words, before moving to grab the bottle of vodka and refill your cups of uncertainty and sorrow.

“Valeria.” You finished, and she perks up at her name, clicking her tongue against her teeth before continuing her questioning of you. There's a cheerful sway in her movements and it leaves worrying thoughts only to fester.

“Oh, I know very well. But, that's why you're here, no? To focus on you, and your own needs.” A sigh leaves you once again, and at least you know your lungs are working, while your brain short circuits in reasoning and logic.

“Yeah. My needs, a place to hide, a place that they’ll never find me. Until I go back, that is, a girl needs to work, needs her money.” You finish another glass, and your mind spins, Valeria finds glee in seeing your tongue loosen and speak your mind.

“Two birds with one stone. You get your privacy until you decide on what to do, and I have a piece to use against Los Vaqueros and their friends, a win-win.” Her smile is wide and your heart stutters.

“A piece against them? Or him?”

“Does it matter?”

“I guess not.”

Your glasses are filled once again, and clink to a toast, a promise is made and leaves you both satisfied after this night.

You both will get what you want and need, soon enough.

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #female reader #reader insert #x reader #queen.writing #fem reader #angst

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raine-or-shine · 2 years

Text

lost and found

✩summary: purah and robbie find themselves on a new mission—analyze a mysterious mini guardian—but the sheikah slate is nowhere to be seen.

✩characters: lee!robbie, ler!purah

✩word count: 1.2k

✩warnings: This is a tickle fic, if that’s not your thing, scroll <3

Purah scrambled in, the sudden clanking of metal against metal as a she poured a handful of ancient screws across the table. And beside her newly laid out materials—a new, never before seen guardian model. She reached over for the ancient tablet that gave them the access to analyze in the first place, brow furrowing when her hand met nothing but air.

“Robbie—where’s the sheikah slate??”

She called out, groaning impatiently as she stumbled past piles of books and guardian parts, only to see her fellow labmate residing beside an old guardian head covered in moss.

“Dunno.” He mumbled, without looking up from his activity. Of course. Her patience already wearing thin, she only folded her arms with a scoff.

“You had it last—you can't just lose something as important as that!”

“I didn't lose it!” He protested, cracking his knuckles before giving an ancient shaft a twist. “Maybe you lost it—“

“No, that’s impossible—you were the last one to use it!” She huffed, the annoyance in her voice only conveying she genuinely believed it to be lost. And she would’ve continued on that road, had she not have paused for a moment, eyeing what Robbie was really doing. Letting her impatient exterior fade, she simply sat beside him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“I see you’re, uh, examining that one’s core huh?”

Robbie nodded, an excited smile visible now as he turned to face Purah. “Yeah! Actually, I was able to see how much energy remains in this ol’ guy here—it seems he could still be pretty active, if his head were still on his body, that is. I also saw tha—hey!” He yelped out of surprise when she tackled him to the ground, thankfully not harming any of the materials nearby.

“Liar.”

She smirked, resting her hands on her hips as she eyed his expression, awaiting the shift in tone. He blinked, and giggled to himself realizing she couldn’t even see due to his eccentrically large goggles.

“Whaddaya mean liar?? You think I don’t know how to analyze a basic guardian model?”

“You can only analyze the energy levels in the core with the sheikah slate.”

The silence was deafening, that was until Robbie attempted to make a run for it, but Purah was one step ahead, dragging him back down to the ground.

“So i’ll ask again, where is it, hm?” She tilted her head to the side a bit, trying to get even the smallest read on his expression behind those goggles.

“I-I don’t have it! I told you!” He sputtered, biting his lip once he realized how that sounded. Fuck.

“You’re lying to me? Again?” She shook her head, a small smirk visible now, and Robbie couldn’t help but find a nervous smile of his own creeping across his face.

“You’re just trying to get ahead of me, aren't ya? That’s what some would consider cheating.” She stretched out the last word, suddenly resting her hands on his hips. His sudden jerk to the touch made her laugh, and without warning, she began scribbling her fingers around his sides.

“Soooo you done lyin’ yet?” She snickered at his sudden peal of high-pitched giggles that came from underneath her grasp.

“Nono! s-stop!” He sputtered between giggles, futilely kicking at his feet and squeezing his arms to his sides. Purah couldn’t help but laugh along with him, she’d thought that after their many tickle fights that he’d learn that never works.

“No? You’re not done lying? Pleaaase, you’re just askin’ for it now, aren't ya?” She teased with an innocent smile, squeezing at his ribs. With a stupidly loud snort, he desperately squeezed his arms against his sides while laughing too much to even deny her accusation.

“Pff, I’m getting snorts now?” She mused, her taunting conveying nothing but playfulness as her attack continued. “C’moooon—you seriously won't just tell me where it iiis? It’ll save you from more of this..” She sang, demonstrating with a sudden series of rapid squeezes up and down his ribs, which elicited a few more snorts and another laughing fit.

“NoHOho! Y-You're cheating!” He half-heartedly swatted at her hands, and she only laughed at that response. “Ohoho this is the best you can do? Please..”

Suddenly the tickles came to a halt, and Robbie found himself fighting off the residual giggles as he eyed Purah’s hands, expecting another strike.

She only snickered and extended out an arm, holding out her hand. Still with the toothy grin plastered across his face, he took the sheikah slate from his jacket pocket, and plopped it in her hand.

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” She giggled, standing up and marching back over to the analysis table. Robbie shook his head with a chuckle, “You’re a dirty cheater—you pulled that card on me!”

She laughed again, “Really? Sure you weren’t provoking?” With a brow raise, she smirked that knowing, smug smirk. Of course she already knew the answer to that question, but it was all the more fun watching him get flustered over his own predicament he chose.

“I was going to give it to you once I was done using it!”

“Uh huh, suuure—why didn’t you just tell me you had it then??”

“Because reasons!” He announced, a stupid grin across his face as he walked over, getting a look at the guardian that lay on the table.

“My my, it’s definitely a find for sure—“

“That’s an understatement. I mean, have you ever seen anything like this before?”

Purah raised a hand to grab the her glasses that rested on top of her head, but much to her annoyance, she grabbed nothing but air.

“Robbie have you—oh for hylia’s sake!”

She couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of him trying on her large red lenses over his ridiculous goggles. “I need to get a closer look, genius!” With a playful scoff, she delivered a flurry of pokes to his sides, which followed by an instant squeak—distracted him enough for her to grab the glasses.

“You’re the biggest dork on the planet, yknow..”

“The biggest Guardian eccentric dork, mind you.” He corrected, looking over back to the table, and beamed once he saw the mini guardian up on its tiny feet.

“The slate worked! He’s up and running! Thaaaaaat’s what I’m talking abouuutt!” He declared with triumph, taking his infamous pose as he extended an arm and pointed to the sky.

“And it seems our little friend here loves to capture the moment.” Purah picked up the tablet to see a photo, only it was taken at a lower angle—almost as if from the point of view of the little guardian.

“Oh, I look fantastic with those, I knew it!” Robbie laughed, peering over her shoulder to view the photo. It was a moment from a few minutes ago, him wearing Purah’s glasses and her laughing at how stupid he looked.

“Wow…I’ve never seen such a guardian who could create these true-to-life images…I wonder…” She trailed off, and a few clicks and swipes later, she set down the slate slowly.

“What? What is it?” Robbie inquired, eagerly peering over to see the screen.

“This guardian. It has a lot more memories…” She looked up him with a determined glint in her eyes “We better inform the princess—and in the meantime, let’s get extracting this data!”

“We should team up on this one, don’t ya think?”

“Waaay ahead of ya—!”

#triforce shit #raine writes! <3 #robbie lee miller #purahahah #loz botw tickling #botw tickles #lee!robbie #ler!purah #goofy sillies being gremlin #goofy sillies #age of calamity tickles #loz tickles #botw tickle fic #aoc tickle fic #loz tickle fic

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yslkook · 3 years

Text

BRIGHT (2)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: you and jungkook share a moment in a bookstore. pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc warnings: cursing, excessive use of pet names…bc its me

“Oh, lighten up Jeon,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, “You look like someone told you that your cat died.”

“The only kitty he wants won’t give him the time of day,” Mina grins, earning herself a glare from Jungkook.

“More like I can't get her time of day because her stupid best friend has a stick up her ass,” Jungkook mutters.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this,” Mei observes, “Our baby tattoo artist pining over a girl…”

“If looks could kill, you’d be dead by now, Mei,” Yoongi says pointedly, “Now stop wasting time meddling in Jungkook’s love life, Jin will have all of our heads-”

“Love life? I don’t have a love life,” Jungkook protests, eyes adorably round.

“And that’s why you’re so broody today, honey,” Mina teases, “More so than usual at least.”

“I am not broody,” Jungkook grumbles, turning his back on his laughing coworkers and friends. He can’t help but smile at their teasing.

“Oh, lighten up, Kookie,” Mei says lightly, clapping his shoulder, “If it makes you feel any better, that girl couldn’t stop staring at you at Hobi’s birthday. And she definitely wants a piece of this.”

Jungkook ignores the raucous laughter of his friends (which only increases when Jin comes out from the backroom to add on to his suffering) and the reddening of his cheeks as he gets ready for his full day of tattoo consultations and appointments.

Jungkook’s day ends about an hour earlier than he had anticipated- his last client for the day had to reschedule due to a last minute conflict. That’s fine by him. It gives him time to stop by the bookstore a few blocks away from the tattoo parlor before it closes.

Jungkook tries his best to read at least one new book a month. He’s known the older shop owner, Jia and her young son, Jae-sung, for years now, as he had basically grown up with Jia from childhood.

He loves the quiet of the store and the immediate scent of vanilla and cedar that surrounds him as soon as he walks in. The bookstore itself has a vintage sort of feel, with dimmed lights, old shelves of mahogany and candles placed throughout the store.

Jungkook always brings croissants from the bakery nearby for Jia and little Jae-sung. Usually when he comes by, the bookstore is empty (or close to it).

Jae-sung screeches when he sees Jungkook walk in the door and immediately runs up to him, hugging his legs. Jungkook crouches, ruffling his hair fondly and Jae-sung is nearly bouncing off of the heels of his feet.

“Mommy say she have new book for you, Kookie!” Jae-sung beams, eyeing the box of croissants in Jungkook’s free hand.

“Does she?” Jungkook muses, “Your mommy always knows what kind of books I like.”

“Me too! Me too!”

“Hey, Jungkook,” Jia’s voice filters through the store as she approaches, “It’s been a while.”

“It took me a while to finish the last book. But so worth it,” He says apologetically, “I also brought croissants. Enjoy.”

“You spoil us,” Jia rolls her eyes, “The new arrivals are in the back, third aisle from the left. You know the drill.”

Jia has known Jungkook since he was a baby in diapers- she’s been his aunt’s close friend for years and years now. Jungkook likes to joke that he likes Jia more than his own aunt, and Jia always reprimands him (without really meaning it).

He thought the bookstore was empty, save for Jia and Jae-sung. But he’s clearly mistaken, when he sees a figure in an olive green sweater and black jeans perusing through the new arrivals with their bottom lip tucked between their teeth in concentration.

He recognizes them immediately and when the person raises their head in curiosity, he sees your wide eyes and a shy smile starting to pull across your lips.

You’re here, in his favorite bookstore where he feels like he’s at home. If he was looking for a sign, then this was it.

“Hi,” You say softly, waving your fingers at him, “So you like reading, huh?”

You visibly cringe and Jungkook chuckles. Your cheeks feel warm when you take him in, swirls and dots of his tattoos peeking out of his black leather jacket and beckoning you closer to him. The three hoops in his left ear glint with the light and the dangling earring on his right ear dangles with the movement of his head. His hair is tied back into a ponytail, accentuating the curve of his jaw and his soft dimples.

Your breath is stolen away when you meet his eyes, deep brown and murky, popping against the peach eyeshadow on his eyelids.

You nearly swoon on the spot before you get your bearings. Maybe he’d catch you if your knees buckled, you think dryly. How embarrassing.

“I try reading something new once a month,” Jungkook replies, pulling you out of your reverie, “And I just like the bookstore in general. Sometimes I like to just come here and hang out with Jia and Jae-sung.”

“Oh! Jia makes my favorite lavender chamomile tea. There’s nothing like it,” You say a little dreamily, “Jae-sung is a cutie. That boy can just look at you and you’d be putty in his hands. Kinda like you.”

The last bit slips out of your mouth without you meaning for it to.

“Kinda like me, huh,” Jungkook smirks, eyes glittering, “It would be fun to see if you’d be putty in my hands, wouldn’t it?”

“The world may never know,” You mumble sheepishly and avoid his eyes again, “What kind of book are you looking for?”

“The one you’re holding, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, looking past your shoulder for another copy of the same book.

“Are you looking for this book just because I’m reading it or because you’ve been genuinely eyeing it?” You ask boldly, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

“Oh, you’re funny,” Jungkook snorts, walking past you to grab the book off of the shelf.

“So I’ve been told,” Your eyes flash, “We should do a boozy book club.”

“Is it a book club if it’s just the two of us?”

“It can be whatever we want it to be,” You shrug, “Besides, don’t you wanna hang out with me?” You tilt your head and Jungkook’s resolve weakens. His heart does something funny- is this how it’s supposed to be?

“Of course I wanna hang out with you, baby,” Jungkook murmurs smoothly, “C’mon, let’s go have some of Jia’s tea. And a croissant too, if Jae hasn’t eaten them already.”

Jungkook glares at Jia the entire time that she’s making tea for both of you. He knows her sly, curious eyes and was unable to keep the surprise off of her face when you had both walked down the stairs together.

She even had the audacity to wink at him. He hopes that the family groupchat doesn’t start blowing up when Jia inevitably informs his aunt and mother about this new development.

“Kookie,” Jae-sung whispers (loudly) when you step away to use the bathroom, “Is dat your girlfriend?”

“What?” Jungkook hisses, “Who told you that?”

“My mommy say I ask you! I not know!”

“No, Jae, that’s not my girlfriend,” Jungkook mumbles, shooting Jia another death glare. She only smiles smugly at him from her spot behind the counter.

Jia leaves him alone for the most part when you return and take your seat next to him. He can still feel her eyes on you both as she washes teacups, watching like a hawk.

“These croissants are so good,” You nearly moan, “Where’d you get them?”

“There’s a bakery near the tattoo parlor,” Jungkook says, “You should come by sometime.”

“The bakery or the parlor?”

“Both?”

“I’ve only been there a few times,” You muse, “I hear you’re the best tattoo artist there. From the mouth of Hobi and Jin themselves.”

“Don’t let Mina and Mei hear you say that,” Jungkook says weakly, rubbing the back of his neck. His cheeks are a little pink and you resist chuckling to yourself.

“I’ve always wanted to get a second piercing,” You trail off, “But never really committed to it.”

“What would you want to get? We do piercings, too,” Jungkook says.

“Cartilage? Industrial? I don’t know,” You shrug, sipping your tea.

“Mina usually has a good eye for that,” Jungkook admits, “Now you have more of a reason to stop by.”

“Oh, I already had a reason to stop by the parlor,” You say brazenly with a sweet smile.

“Is that so?” Jungkook says, quirking an eyebrow at you.

You hum and continue to sip your tea, wondering if he can somehow hear the loud rattling of your eager heart in your ribcage.

Conversation with him comes so easily and you don’t know when the last time you had spent this long with him was. Something always seems to interrupt you both when you eventually do find yourselves alone with each other during outings with friends. But this time, it’s just you and him tucked away in this bookstore.

The sun has long gone down and Jia was about to close the bookstore for the day. In fact, the only reason she kept it open for this long was because of you both. You apologize profusely with worried eyes when you realize the time and see Jae-sung fast asleep in his mother’s arms.

She waves you off, giving Jungkook a lingering look that you don’t understand.

“I’ll be back soon,” You promise Jia in a soft voice, so as to not wake Jae-sung, “Be well, Jia.”

She bids you both goodnight, and unbeknownst to you, she shoots Jungkook a simple text. It states: “keep her close, i like her”.

Jungkook ignores it in favor of focusing on you.

“How you getting home, baby?” Jungkook asks as you both walk up the block shoulder to shoulder.

“Hmm… I’m supposed to meet Sora for dinner but she said she’s stuck at work,” You murmur, wrapping your arms around yourself as you scroll on your phone, “But I was just on social media and it looks like she’s getting drinks with her other friends…”

You look at him with a frown tugging at your lips and your eyes wide. “Maybe it was a last minute thing,” You mumble to yourself.

“Or maybe she lied to you,” Jungkook says sharply. You only look at him in silence for a few moments with furrowed brows.

“Maybe there was a reason,” You shrug, “Why would she lie about that?”

Because she’s Sora, and she just would. But Jungkook stays silent. You don’t need to hear about how he dislikes your best friend, at least not yet. Not when you’re not ready to hear it.

“Forget about her,” Jungkook says easily, “Lemme take you home, baby.”

“I’m not riding that metal death contraption,” You say flatly, “You just got it! Like two weeks ago! You don’t even have an extra helmet, and forget a helmet, I need elbow pads and knee pads-”

“Will you relax,” Jungkook says, putting your books in the small basket he built into the front of the motorcycle.

“No, I will not relax, Jeon Jungkook!” You nearly screech, “This is so dangerous, we could both fall in the road and then what? Become roadkill for the next soccer mom van to run us both over? Death by soccer mom, what a way to go-”

“Are you done?” Jungkook says dryly.

“No, actually, I’m not done-”

“You trust me, baby?” Jungkook asks, hand on your shoulder. You can’t even properly appreciate the warmth of his large hand over your jacket.

“Of course I trust you, I don’t trust that,” You point at the motorcycle accusingly and Jungkook rolls his eyes. You can already feel your resolve weakening. He wordlessly places his own helmet over your own head and you glare at him, about to start your tirade again.

“You take mine,” Jungkook murmurs, “And hold on to me.”

“You can’t just give me your helmet, what if you fall? Or worse, get pulled over?”

“Or worse, get pulled over, are you joking-”

“Jungkook! Be serious!”

“I am being serious! You said you only live ten minutes from here, just relax. I won’t let anything happen to either of us,” Jungkook says, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“If anything happens, it’s your head on a platter and I’m bringing it to the tattoo parlor.”

“How can you do that if we both die?”

“Shut the fuck up,” You say, but a laugh escapes your lips. Jungkook sits on his bike and looks at you expectantly.

“C’mon, baby,” Jungkook coaxes you and you awkwardly sit behind him, making sure that your legs don’t touch his and your arms are safely away from him.

“If you sit like that, you’ll definitely fall off,” Jungkook snorts, “Wrap your arms around me.”

You hesitate, afraid of touching him like this for whatever reason. He unnerves you and you feel completely exposed like this. You’ve never really been this close to anyone, at least anyone who made you feel the way Jungkook makes you feel.

Biting the bullet, you tensely wrap your arms around his narrow waist loosely. “Good girl,” Jungkook murmurs, “Tighter, baby. I don’t bite, unless you want me to.”

Your stomach flips at his words, subconsciously wrapping your arms around his narrow waist even more tightly. Your fingers graze the hard press of his tummy over his jacket and you almost moan at how warm and strong he feels. He smells nice, like Sunday morning laundry.

“Ugh, you’re annoying-” And then you shriek as he pulls away from the road and shoots off into the night with you plastered against his backside.

“See that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jungkook says, taking the helmet off of you. He’s met with a glare but you sigh in defeat.

“No, I guess it wasn’t. But I never want you driving this hunk of death without a helmet for yourself,” You say, poking his chest.

“You should be nicer to her,” Jungkook says, taking your finger in his large hand.

“You’re right, it’s you that I should be mean to,” You roll your eyes. You wonder if Jungkook could feel your heart slamming in your chest (in fear, adrenaline and excitement) as you hung tight to him. You had refused to look up, pressing your face into his back and squeezing your eyes shut the entire way. Jungkook had only chuckled.

The heat in your eyes melts away quickly once Jungkook helps you off of the motorcycle. “Thanks for taking me home, Jungkook,” You murmur, “I’m glad I ran into you at the bookstore.”

“Any time, baby,” Jungkook says. A strand of dark hair falls from his ponytail and into his face. You reach your fingers up to thread through his hair before pushing it back behind his ear for him.

“Get home safe,” You say, with stars in your eyes, “Can I hug you?” When he nods, and before you can change your mind or convince yourself out of it, you wrap your arms around him. And before he can properly return it, you dash into your apartment building while calling out “text me when you get home!”

Hours later, when he’s in the comfort of his home, he decides that he likes the way your spicy vanilla scented perfume clings to his leather jacket.

tags: @kookdbean @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fluff #badboy jk #badboy jungkook

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laurensxox · 3 years

Text

Fandom :: The Arcana

Pairing :: Julian Devorak x Reader (Not Apprentice)

Requested? :: no

Warning/s :: Julian's Route (Upright) and New Tale Spoilers, Named Apprentice, Female Reader, Chronic Illness, Swearing, Author is projecting their longing

Genre :: Angst

Summary :: Julian spends the night reminiscing over childhood memories and longing to go back to the past where he was in Nevivon again, playing as carefree as one can be with the one person he truly cared about other than his younger sister

Author's Note :: Stark, if you're reading this, I'm fighting you for this dramatic, self-sacrificing dumbdumb-

Song Inspiration :: Talking to the Moon by Bruno Mars

Portia's Cottage :: Just After Sundown

A chuckle left the auburn haired man as he watches Pasha relay stories of their childhood to their friends, informing them of how they were raised by a group of grandmothers and how their parents actually perished from a shipwreck caused by a rather strong storm. Mazelinka quickly add in how much of a troublemaker the two of them has become as the years pass by, didn't even waste the chance to tell them about the tooth fairy situation which caused Julian to go beet red in mild embarassment. Their friends were in no need to know that story!

Shaking his head, he let a more genuine smile form on his face. As embarrassed as he is right now, he was happy to see everyone laughing jovially without the fear of Lucio's plans with the Devil weighing on their shoulders. A warm sensation forms in his chest as he tries to hold in his laughter as Pasha nearly slips on her feet with her excitement to share their history. It was nice to be able to just laugh and and thrive in the positive energy inside the cottage! Even Muriel, their very introverted friend, seems to be relaxed as he lets Allen (Apprentice) braid his hair using flower stems while Asra leans on his side.

Looking at the trio and sensing the strong forming bond between Pasha and the Countess, Julian couldn't help the small pang of longing swell somewhere within himself. He couldn't stop his mind from pushing forward memories he tried to bury and lock away.

"Ilya, help! I'm slipping!"

"Don't worry, I'll catch you!"

The longing pang quickly turned to pain as the memories rushes back to the surface. He could feel his hand start to tremble as the formerly locked away memories barrels it's way to the front of his mind. Jumbled memories of playing tag and tending to scraped knees should have made him feel fond but it makes feel nothing but longing. Longing for a time and companionship he knows he'll never be able to have again.

Taking a deep breath, he hadn't noticed that he had closed his eyes until he opened them. With him being occupied with trying to stir himself away from the path of self-loathing once again, he hadn't noticed how quiet the cottage had gotten, its other residents looking at him with concerned eyes. Not even the Familiars scattered in the room made a noise.

He forced a laugh to ease the sudden change of atmosphere in the cottage, hoping it sounded convincing enough to clear the concern away from his family and friends' eyes. While he has come to terms that it's okay to ask and receive help instead of keeping things to himself, he still struggles with it. And it was obvious with the way he tries to act like he was okay, that he wasn't just bombarded with memories he doesn't want to remember.

"What is with that look, my dear friends? I am perfectly well, no worries!" he exclaimed, giving them his usual smirk and raised eyebrow, internally hoping it'll be enough to convince them that there was nothing to be concerned about. "There is nothing in this world that this handsome and smart devil can't handle!" His little comment about himself seems to be the right thing to say as his friends immediately rolled their eyes in fond exasperation. Although, by the look of his sister and honorary grandmother, he guessed that they have seen right through him and he can already see his funeral-

He gave a small sigh and let a small weary look replace his earlier expression, "I'll just head outside to take in a quick breath of fresh air," he said as he quickly exited the cottage before his two family member could say anything. Knowing that they'll probably just follow right after him, he quickly made his way away from the cottage and into the hedge maze by the palace gardens. It took him a while to get to the center but he was relieved to see it empty. Consul Valerius has taken to drinking his usual wine there in this time so he was quite happy to see that for once, the Consul broke his routine. He needed to be alone right now.

Taking a seat in one of the chairs surrounding a rounded table, he crossed his arms on the table and used it to rest his head upon. Taking another deep breath to calm his racing heart, he closed his eyes.

Maybe he needs to stop locking away these memories, he has only done so before due to his need to focus on finding the cure for the plague and then having to focus to not get caught by the patrolling palace guards when he was still a wanted convict. The memories and the longing for his childhood best friend used to be a big distraction for him while he was still working under Valdemar.

He didn't need to do any of those anymore... So maybe...

The soft rapid footsteps echoed in the small forest near the town of Nevivon, followed by the childish giggling of two children. Both children wore a tattered white sheet of cloth, the corners wrapped around their necks in a way that resembles that of a cape. Whilst in their heads rests crudely made paper crowns.

Young Julian and his best friend, (Y/N), were already considered too old for these kind of games by some of the grandmas and fellow children but the two gave them no mind, choosing to continue living in their fantasy world until they were truly too old for it.

The two children stopped once they have reached the center of the forest where a small meadow hides in. It was decorated by dozens of wild flowers and the breeze were always refreshing. The two has deemed this as their spot when they had first found it years ago, back when they were much younger.

They call the meadow as their kingdom, where they are the rulers, side by side as King and Queen. The wild flowers are their loyal subjects and sometimes, when Pasha joins them, she acts as their ambassador.

Young Julian kneeled as they reach the very center that they always keep clean, it was their designated throne room. The young boy carefully plucked a blue hued flower from the ground, he didn't know what kind of flower it was but it was pretty, a perfect gift for his 'Queen'

As if mocking the reminiscing man, right across from him and innocently clinging to the hedge wall was the very same flower that he had picked back then. He didn't know if he wants to sneer at it or be fond of it. He wished he has a glass of Salty Bitters right now, maybe he should have headed to Rowdy Raven instead of here.

"Would you have approved of the man that I have become, (Y/N)?" he whispered as he stares at the flower, as if it would miraculously turn into his childhood friend and answer him. Maybe that was possible? Allen did transform him into Asra back then, would the illusion work on a plant as well? But then again, that will be all it'll ever be. Just an illusion.

The grandmas all exchanged fond gazes as they watch their resident troublemakers sing songs with all their heart, their love for the dramatic was very much obvious at that moment.

Little Portia was banging on pots like drums by the sidelines, sometimes singing some lines as well when prompted by either her older brother or the girl she was starting to see as her older sister.

He stood up from his place and started to make his way out of maze. He wasn't going to go back in the cottage nor was he in any hurry, he just felt too restless to stay sitted in one place. He has gotten used to always moving around with all his running from guards and fighting a Major Arcana. But before he went back to trying to find his way in the maze, he stopped in front of the flower that he has been staring at.

It was a small flower with 6 petals that looks blue and violet at the same time, the bud in the middle was light green in color and it was the only flower growing in the hedge. From what Julian remembers, these flowers grow in bundles. So to see one so alone, well, it didn't help the growing hole inside him.

Gently plucking the flower like he did so in his childhood, he observed the flower a little more before making his way back into maze, taking the small flower with him. Surely, the Countess would not mind him plucking such a small wild flower, now would she?

Julian looked up from his book as he felt something soft being places om his hair, looking up, he saw (Y/N) placing what looks to be a bunch of flowers weaved together in a circlet manner on top of his head. Something similar on her own head as well.

"What are you doing, peanut?" he asked the girl, gently closing his book and waiting for the other to finish adjusting the flowers. He had taken to calling her 'Peanut' after he had caught her trying to sneakily take the peanuts in the communal pantry. He didn't snitch to the grandmas, of course.

"Just adjusting your flower crown, bum-bum" she answered, making small more adjustments before appearing satisfied that the flower crown both looks good and will surely stay on her friend's head when they begin to trek their way home later.

The Doctor surprisingly got out pretty easy, definitely faster than when he was first trying to get to the heart of the maze. Looking down at the flower, he let a sad smile adorn his face.

"I suppose even after all these years, you're still my lucky charm, huh, (Y/N)?" he mumbled under his breath, giving the one of the petals a small kiss before continuing to walk.

He didn't really have a destination, the palace grounds was vast and there are still some areas of it that he hasn't been to. Maybe a little exploring wouldn't hurt? He hopes Pasha wouldn't get too worried if he takes too long to get back to her cottage, he does often find himself in troubling situations.

"You know what? I wouldn't even ask how you manage to be in this situation." (Y/N) said, crossing her arms as she narrows her eyes at the boy dangling before her.

Julian had, at that moment, managed to get himself tangled in the vines surrounding the branches of the tree. Truth be told, he was trying to climb the tree in order to get fresh fruits for his sister and best friend. But when he finally managed to get on a branch, a crow suddenly flew out of its nest and caused him to go off balance, fortunately being caught by the vines, no matter how tangled up he got.

He wouldn't tell her that though, lord knows she wouldn't let him live it down.

"Why, my dear peanut, I was just trying to see how strong these vines are and if they would make a good rope!" It was honestly a good excuse for him, but apprently not good enough for (Y/N) as she just raised her eyebrow at him, clearly not believing him.

After a good bit of exploring, he manages to find himself near the fountains where he saw the trio couple making their way back to the palace. Were they on their way home already? How long has he been outside? Shaking his head, he called for their attention and made his way to them.

"Going home already?" he asked, raising a brow as he observes the many colorful flowers adoring Muriel's hair. It was quite a new look on the tall man but it surprisingly suits him. Seeing his friend give him a narrowed look, he moved his gaze to the two magicians.

"Yeah, I'm feeling quite a bit tired already and Asra wanted to do a quick inventory of the stocks we have left in the shop" Allen explained, moving to lightly keep their wild green hair out of their sight. It was getting a little long, they might need a cut soon. "Though, we don't plan to stay there for the whole night, just a quick inventory and dinner then straight to Muri's where we'll sleep for tonight" the apprentice added, giving the taller doctor a smile.

"I see, I see! Well, don't let me hold you back for any longer, have a safe walk home!" he exclaimed, moving to walk further before he was stopped by a gentle grip on his wrist. Turning back, he saw that it was Allen who held him back. He could see the concern swirling in their green eyes but the smile never faltered away from their face. "Yes, dear?" he asked.

"You know you can talk to us if there's something bothering you, right? You don't have to if you're not comfortable but just remember that we're here, okay?" Moved by their words, Julian pulled them into a sideway hug and let out a genuine laugh. He was so lucky to have his friends. Sometimes he still thinks he doesn't deserve them but he knew to keep it to himself for now. He didn't fancy sitting through another lecture session about his self worth by his sister again.

"Aw, Allen, don't you worry about lil 'ol me! I'm quite alright now!" That was a lie, he was far from alright, but his friend doesn't need to know that. "I may talk to Pasha and Mazelinka about it so no need to worry that cute little head of yours" That seemed to settle the Apprentice as they pulled away from the hug and gave his arm one last pat before moving to stand between their partners.

"You should do that now before Portia wears a hole in her carpet with how much she's pacing when we left" Asra said before he and the other two gave the auburn haired man one last wave and left.

Deciding to do as his magician friend said, he started his way back to his sister's cottage. Earlier was such a good day, it wouldn't do to plague his sister with worries and sour up the light mood. He already did that earlier before he walked out, best not make it worse.

Looking up at the dark sky, he smiled as he admires the scattered stars. It was a beautiful night, the full moon was giving the world such a soft look and it made things seem so peaceful. It made him feel like he was back to laying in the meadow near Nevivon. Like he was laying next to... Next to...

He wasn't able to wipe away his tears before they begun to fall down his cheeks. A sob fought its way out of his throat as he falls to a crouch.

Fuck, he wants to go back. He really really wants to go back-

Julian observed the wide sky and the many stars on them, it was a beautiful night and the night breeze was cold and as he lays on the equally cool grass of the meadow, it soothes his heated skin. It made him sigh in contentment, what more could he want?

Looking at his left, he smiled as he sees his sleeping sister. The little girl had decided to join them that night in their nightly star gazing but it didn't take long before she fell asleep, not used to staying up later than her bedtime. He'll have to carry her home later on.

The sight on his right took his breath away. Blush rushed to his face as he seems to see his best friend in a completely different light.

There, laying beside him, was (Y/N). The moonlight was softly hitting her face, and it made her (eye color) so much more brighter like gems, like the stars that littered the dark sky above them. Her laugh as she continues to talk about the astrology that she learned from Mazelinka, sounds like soothing bells to his ears.

Since when has his peanut became this... pretty?

He longs to be in her arms again, he longs to hear her voice again. No doubt it would still sound like music to his ears. He wants to make flower crowns again, he wants to play king and queen again, he wants to stargaze with her again, he wants to sneakily steal cookies, hangout by the hot springs, pick flowers for the grandmas, share lessons with Lilinka, he wants to...

He really wants to see her again.

Julian sat on her bed by her side, his hand gently holding her weaker and much fragile one, her illness eating away her strength. Her ring finger still holds the flower ring he had made earlier that week, it was already wilting but the girl refuses to take it off.

"I made up my mind." he said, breaking the solemn silence in the room. It made the other look at him curiously, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I'll take the offer to study medicine in Prakra" he explained, finally looking at his best friend and secretly, the girl who has his heart in her gentle grip for he doesn't think his bestfriend could ever be harsh, other than when she's twisting his ear for getting in trouble without her

But he can't, he knew he can't. She probably hates him, gotten word of his 'crimes' and no longer sees him as her best friend. But as a murderer, a plague doctor who assisted his superior on experimenting to dying plague victims in search of the cure.

She probably already has a family of her own now, has 3 children like she once said she wanted. Probably has a nice spouse that always makes her laugh and will never hurt her. A spouse that doesn't have their sins still haunting them in every step and breath they take.

"You're leaving me?" the pain in her voice was clear, she was hurt at the thought. They had planned to wait for her to be cured before they decide to go out of their hometown to travel, to study medicine like they always dreamed of.

"Not for long, I know we planned to study together but..." He took a deep breath, "I'm doing this for you, (Y/N), I want to study now for you"

Silence filled the room once again.

Julian clutched up at his coat, the place right over his heart where it hurts the most. He had completely fallen to his knees, tears continues to drip down to the ground from his eyes, his other hand gripping the ground.

Whispered apologies leaving his mouth over and over again.

"Promise me you'll come back? That you won't forget about me?"

Julian stared at his love's dull but hopeful (eye color) orbs, hisbhand momentarily leaving hers to gently caress her cheek.

"I'm so sorry... (Y/N), I'm so sorry..."

"I promise"

"I broke our promise... I'm so sorry, my love..."

[...]

Meanwhile, in the same meadow of Julian's memories, sits a much grown up version of the girl in his memories. Body trembling as sobs come right after one another, clutching a bundle of those same blue wildflowers to her chest. Her eyes tightly shut as tears falls to the ground of her childhood. The girl looked up, staring at the same moon that Julian was previously admiring.

"Where are you, Ilya? I thought you'll come back... You promised... You promised..."

Anyone interested in a reunion sequel? 👀

My apologies if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes, I just woke up when I finished this lol

Anyways, I hope you all liked this! Let me know what you think, don't be shy! 💙

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rolandtowen · 3 years

Text

three times Zuko comes into the Jasmine Dragon coffee shop, and one time Sokka leaves with him. Set in the Neurodiverse Zukka AU, but can read as a standalone.

*banging pots and pans together* "Come over here and get yall Neurodiverse Zukka!"

Read it on Ao3 or under the cut!

TW: discussions of skin picking and implied child abuse

When Sokka pulls into the parking lot of the Jasmine Dragon, he is unsurprisingly the first car there. Being a freshman in town means getting the worst pick of shifts at local businesses. Sokka was hired on to work the opening shift, which means he wakes up at the ungodly hour of 5am to open the shop before the first round of sleep-deprived college students comes in. The pay isn't bad, Mr. Iroh is an incredibly fair man,

The bell on the door jingles on his way in, and he flips several light switches on, watching as the coffee shop slowly comes to life. He busies himself with getting the beans for the day grinding, pulling his first shot and dialing in the expresso. When he takes a sip, the espresso is spot on for the day, which is a relief. Having to make adjustments as customers start filing in is a nightmare.

Today's brew is floral and citrusy, so he decides to make himself and iced lavender latte - with oat milk, of course, because he's gotta do it for the gays - and he spends the next 20 minutes setting out pastries and fiddling with the display cases, making everything look perfect.

At 6am sharp, Sokka unlocks the front door and flips their sign to open, before retreating behind the bar to nurse his latte. Not even five minutes later, the door bell jingles, and Sokka sees a flash of dark hair, face obscured by a pile of textbooks and binders. The figure runs into one table, and then another, and Sokka is rushing out from behind the counter. He gets there just before textbooks go toppling everywhere, his hands taking a firm hold of the top bundle. As he pulls the books into his arms, he sees the face behind them.

Breathtaking golden eyes.

And.. a massive burn scar.

"Hi!" Sokka says, "I'm the barista on shift today - my name's Sokka." He would reach his hand for the other man to shake, but for the stack of textbooks in them.

Golden Eyes smiles.

"I'm Zuko, Zuko Sozin," he says, setting his remaining textbooks on the table by his side. Sokka follows suit.

"Hey, I think I've seen you before - are you taking Piandao's Intro to Biology class?"

"Uh, yeah - yeah! You sit a few rows in front of me." Zuko laughs. "Your doodles are uh, something alright."

Sokka knocks him good-naturedly on the shoulder. "I gotta keep my hands busy for my brain to focus." He looks down at the stack of books on the table. "What on earth are you studying, to have that many books?"

"Uh, Biology and Chemistry double-major, Pre-Med track." Sokka's eyes widen. "It's really not that much! I got a bunch of stuff out of the way with AP credits."

Sokka raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, it is a lot - but I'm really passionate about it. I want to be a doctor."

"Well, Dr. Sozin, what can I get started for you today?"

"Can I get a iced matcha, with a lot of honey?"

Sokka raises his other eyebrow. "A doctor with a sweet tooth?"

"Kind of?"

"Don't worry, I won't rat you out to your dentist. An iced matcha with extra honey?" Zuko nods and Sokka smiles. "You got it, doc."

ii.

Sokka falls into a routine at the Jasmine Dragon. He opens the shop every morning, and every morning of the fall semester so far, Zuko Sozin comes in at precisely 6:05am. Zuko will order an iced matcha with honey, and sits at a table by the window with his laptop and at least two textbooks open at all times. Then, at 11:50am - Sokka guess he has a class that starts at noon - Zuko leaves the shop, always making sure to throw his spare change into Sokka's tip jar.

He's so beautiful.

On a slow day, Sokka comes out from behind the safety of the counter and works up the courage to ask Zuko if he can study with him. Zuko looks shocked at first, but his lips quirk up in a smile as he gestures for Sokka to sit in the chair across from him, moving his textbooks to make room for Sokka's one book and laptop.

"What are you studying, Sokka?" Zuko appears to be genuinely interested.

"Oh, uh, social work, with a concentration in mental health." Sokka waits for Zuko to laugh at him. It never comes. He looks up at him over their laptops.

"That's really cool."

"You think so?"

"Yeah! I mean, some pre-med majors can be really pretentious, really dismissive of mental illness, but um - not me. I don't really have that luxury." Zuko laughs, as though at a joke with himself. "What's the Intro to Biology for, then?"

"Not all of us got our common core out of the way with AP credits, like some nerd I know." Zuko smiles at that, and looks back down at his laptop screen.

Sokka pulls his keys from his pocket and starts fidgeting with the stim toy he keeps on his keychain as he reads through his latest assignment for his Mental Illness and Society class. He bought it on Etsy, relieved to find a neurodivergent-owned shop after scrolling through a lot of stores that just seemed to be hopping on the 'trend' of selling fidget toys. He flips to the next page in his textbook, popping the buttons back and forth in a steady rhythm. He remembers Zuko's sitting across from him and stops abruptly.

"Is this annoying? Do you want me to stop?"

Zuko just cocks his head. "Why would I get a say in what you do? It's kind of your shop, right?"

"Um, to be polite?" Sokka laughs. "And you would be surprised how many customers I get who think they get to tell me what to do." His eyes settle on the half drunk latte in front of him. "It's not really my shop either, I just work the early morning shifts so Mr. Iroh can sleep in. If you ever get to stay past noon sometime, you'll see him come in. You can't miss him, short guy, talks in riddles. He's older, a war vet I think - I just get that impression from some of the stories he tells me. But anyway, did you want me to stop fidgeting?" Sokka looks back up to meet those golden eyes.

Zuko glitches for a second. "Oh! No, no, go for it - if it helps you to study, I'm all for it."

Sokka smiles, and looking at the way Zuko keeps picking at his cuticles gives him an idea. He digs into his backpack and pulls out another stim toy, an acupressure ring. ""Do you want to try this instead of maiming your hands?"

Zuko hesitantly holds out a hand and Sokka drops it into his palm. "You don't have to."

Sokka scoffs. "I know I don't have to - I want to. Come on, I wear it on my thumb sometimes -" and suddenly he's taking Zuko's hands into his and getting very close to Zuko's face. Zuko can smell espresso on his clothes and Sokka's hands are so warm against his. Calloused, sure, but warm. He holds Zuko's right hand gently, pressing the spiky ring onto his thumb. "And you can rub it back and forth with your pointer finger and it gives you that kind of prickly sensation that you get from skin picking, just without the skin picking." Sokka pulls his hands away and Zuko immediately misses them. "Give it a shot, tell me what you think."

Zuko tentatively rolls the ring over his thumb. Huh. The cute barista's right, the acupressure gives him that same prickly, scratchy feeling that picking at his nails and cuticles does. "Wow," he says, "I think you've converted me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Then keep it, I've got a thousand more where that came from, ADHD perks."

Zuko instinctively opens his mouth to protest but the words die in his throat.

"You, you have ADHD?" He stops rolling the ring across his thumb.

"Yup." Sokka's lips popped on the 'p', and he turned to the next page in his textbook. "And I'm pretty sure you've got some spicy stuff happening your brain, too. But you don't have to tell me."

"How are you so open about it?"

Sokka's hand stills around the fidget. "My parents never treated me like I was deficient in any way - my brain just works differently, which means I have trouble with some 'normal' stuff. But I also strengths in areas that others don't have naturally. Accommodations aren't anything to be ashamed of."

"Sounds nice." All of the levity drops out of Zuko's voice.

Sokka levels a look at Zuko. He lets his eyes flit to the right side of Zuko's face and the scar there. He's seen it so many times, and the burns look so concentrated, almost... intentional. His stomach churns at the thought. The scar's old... and Zuko's at college now, he has to be safe - he has to be.

"Like I said, you don't have to tell me." Sokka's hand starts to fidget with the buttons again. "But I have it on good authority that I am a good listener."

"I'll... I'll keep that in mind." Zuko looks down at his hands, fingers rolling the ring back and forth against his thumb. "Thank you."

"Anytime, doc."

iii.

Somehow, fumbling through their collective social awkwardness, they manage to swap numbers.

At the end of the fall semester, Sokka texts Zuko for the first time.

S: hey, im gonna be a few minutes later. don't worry, im still coming.

Z: okay. thank you.

When Sokka finally pulls into the parking lot fifteen minutes late, he sees Zuko waiting outside the door, sitting on a bench, head buried in one of his chemistry textbooks.

"Hey," he puts his keys in the door. "You can just come in while I open, it won't take too long."

Zuko follows him inside, and he closes the door against the chill.

"You didn't have to text me," Zuko says, like it's a question.

"I wanted to," Sokka starts flipping on light switches. "I know you've got your routine, and I didn't want to stress you out when it got messed up."

"Why would that matter to you?"

"Um, I don't want you to be stressed? I kind of care about you."

"You... you care about me?" Zuko stands in the middle of the coffee shop, unmoving.

Sokka smiles. "Yeah, I think I do."

"Why?"

"I think we could be friends?"

"Oh." Zuko's face falls for a second - what Sokka has come to understand is his 'processing' face - and he looks back up a second later. "I think we could be friends too."

"Friendship with a barista has great perks, you know." Sokka laughs as he starts up the grinder. "Although the perks of a social worker friend aren't too bad either."

"How's that going? With your first semester ending?" Zuko sits on a stool at the bar and watches Sokka putter around behind it.

"Well, I'm going to pass Intro to Biology, not for lack of trying on Piandao's part - I swear he's trying to weed out all the humanities kids. It isn't even a weed out course!" He polishes an espresso glass furiously. "How are you doing?"

Zuko chokes. "Oh, I'm - I'm fine, you know it's a hard class and all -"

"You're getting an A, aren't you?" Sokka squints at him from behind a bag of coffee beans. "Curve breaker," he scoffs.

"Hey, it's not my fault that I'm, what did you call it? A 'burnt-out gifted kid with people pleasing tendencies'." Zuko crosses his arms and huffs at the memory of that conversation. Sokka had read him like a picture book. And it was not fair for one person to be that good at emotions.

"You are correct, I did indeed call you that." Sokka pulls the first shot of the morning. "And it looks like I was right."

"You know what you said the other week, about being a good listener?"

"Sure do," Sokka takes a sip of the espresso, swishing it around in his mouth before spitting it out. "What's on your mind?"

"Well, if we're going to be... friends, I just think you'd want to know that - I'm autistic." Zuko stares at Sokka searching his face for any cues about what the next words out of his mouth will be, waiting for the facade of friendship to drop. He furiously rolls the acupressure ring up and down his thumb.

"Okay, that's great!"

"...what."

Zuko's hands freeze and he squeezes the ring against his skin, feeling the pressure increase.

"That's great, I'm glad you felt safe enough to tell me that. I kind of guessed your parents weren't as accommodating as mine?"

Zuko laughs something sour. "No, no they were not." He looks up in surprise as Sokka puts an iced matcha, extra honey, in front of him. "You're right though, I do feel safe here. I feel safe with you." Zuko looks down at the acupressure ring on his thumb, softening his grip. "You could have totally ignored me, but you didn't. Or you could've been mean about my quirks - but you weren't. Why?"

"Well, for starters, you tip well." Sokka smiles and leans across the counter, bracketing Zuko's elbows in with his own. "But you're also a really great guy - you're passionate, you want to make people's lives better, and you're also like, really beautiful."

Zuko feels his cheeks flush. "You really think that?" His fingers still against the fidget again, but he doesn't feel the need to press it into his skin. He's captivated by Sokka's words. Surely, Sokka couldn't actually mean -

"Oh, yeah. Every bit." Sokka brushes his hand against one of Zuko's, the one with the fidget ring. "Can I hold your hand?"

"Yes, please, yes." After weeks, Sokka's hand is back in his, and Zuko thinks he's going to implode. "Can, can you hold both of my hands? With both of your hands?"

"Of course," Sokka's positively beaming, grabbing Zuko's hands and running his thumbs across his knuckles. "Now you're absolutely allowed to say no to my next question, and there are no hard feelings."

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Fuck yes."

The iced matcha is forgotten.

+ i

Sokka's feet hurt like hell. Mr. Iroh had called in him to work a double on Friday, and since he doesn't have any classes on Fridays, he foolishly agreed.

It won't seem so foolish once you see the paycheck, he reminds himself. He and Zuko have a deal. Zuko pays for his medical school with his job shelving books at the University library, and Sokka pays for their tiny apartment by caffeinating all of the other broke college kids in town. By some miracle, they seem to be able to make it work. Zuko graduated into the medical college a year early, which helps with tuition costs, and of course his brilliant boyfriend got all kinds of scholarships.

Sokka is indescribably proud of him.

The door bell jangles just as Sokka is wiping the crumbs off the last cafe table. "Hey, we're starting to close up for the night, so it'd better be a to-go order," he calls over his shoulder.

"Even for me?"

"Zuko!" Sokka drops his cloth immediately and spins around, pulling Zuko into a hug. Zuko taps the small of his back when he's ready to let go, and Sokka lets him go, beaming. "You came to visit me at work?"

"More like I picked up your favorite soup dumplings from Haru's across the street and thought we could walk home together?" Zuko shrugs, gesturing to the brown paper bag in his arms. "How's that sound to you?"

"Baby, that's just what I needed today." Sokka picks up his cleaning supplies. "Okay, I just need to put all of this away and then we can lock up and go home, how's that?"

"Great," Zuko smiles at him. "I may have also picked up some more Doctor Who DVDs from the library," he smirks.

"Oh, you trickster!" Sokka yells from the kitchen, before appearing again. "You used my one weakness, pork soup dumplings, against me in order to get your nerdy way."

"Oh, big talk coming from the guy who watches astronomy documentaries for fun," Zuko laughs as Sokka leads him out of the shop, switching off the lights and locking the door behind him. "If it were up to you, we'd be watching Cosmos all weekend, and I can only take so much of Neil deGrasse Tyson explaining the peculiarities of the moon."

"Hey, the moon is cool!"

"You are correct, the moon is very cool. It's freezing, because it's a rock. In space. With no atmosphere. Or life." Zuko deadpans, earning a light punch on the shoulder from Sokka.

"Fine, you get Doctor Who tonight, but Saturday is going to be all PBS Nova, baby. Brace yourself." Sokka takes Zuko's free hand into his as they start the walk home.

"Well, as long as you're there, I'm happy."

Notes:

fidgets in this work were inspired by those from shop StimBox

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spencers-dria · 3 years

Text

Turn for the Better

Someone To Stay Ch. 1

Spencer x fem!reader

Spencer POV:

I open my eyes and glance around the room. It's darker than I remember. I must have fallen asleep reading on the couch again. I glance down and see a pile of books on the rug. Oh yeah...I only made it through about four books this time before I nodded off. I sigh in frustration that I'm awake. Might as well get up I suppose.

I wander into the kitchen and pull open the fridge only to be met with a jar of peanut butter, week old left overs, and a half empty jug of juice. Next.

I try again with the pantry. Almost completely bare. I guess this is what happens when you stop going to the grocery store. I settle on a cup of apple juice and a bag of chips... better than nothing right?

I slump back down onto the couch and pull my green wool blanket over me. As I stare up at my ceiling, as I begin to let my mind wander. But this was dangerous territory. I have to keep my mind occupied, I just have to. So I quickly sit back up and turn the TV to one of my favorite Dr. Who episodes. They say that anxious people re-watch the same shows because they find the familiarity comforting. I could definitely understand the feeling.

It was the weekend, which meant I wasn't called into work. Cases had been slow lately, as we spent quite a bit of time doing paperwork back at the office. Unfortunately for me, this meant less distractions. Distractions were good. Distractions were necessary. They are the only way I make it through the days anymore.

Things had finally returned to normal for me back at work. I was going into the field, and it felt like my coworkers were no longer tiptoeing around me. I hate when they do that, and it bothers me more than any amount of teasing ever could. I'm not so delicate, so easily breakable. Look at everything I have been through, everything I have endured. Yet here I am, still alive, still doing my job. I didn't need to be babied. So it was a relief when I felt the regular rapport I shared with my friends return. They had gone back to the sarcastic remarks and silly nicknames. I was grateful for it. They did, however, continue to check up on me. This was something that I did appreciate. They've seen me go down a dark road once before. I have no intentions of ever returning. I was stronger than that... I think. All I know is I have held on this long without resorting to any unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Coping mechanisms...oh how I wish I had something to make the healing process easier. Having a fairly empty social calendar left me alone often. Normally I would find comfort in the peace and quiet of my solitary apartment, but not quite so much lately. I couldn't very well make plans to go out, and I wouldn't even know how to begin to do that. Who would want to hang out with me right now anyways? I'd be a damper on the fun, and everyone knows it. That's probably why my friends stopped inviting me to the nights at the bar.

There I go again, letting my mind slip into a dark hole of anxiety. Its not a safe place to be. I quickly turn my attention back to the show in front of me, letting it drown out all other thoughts.

The ring of my phone quickly draws my attention away. Finally...another case! I jump up to answer, seeing the name on my screen: Derek Morgan. That's odd. Usually Hotch or Garcia call to notify us of a new case.

"Hello?" I answer, confusion lacing my voice.

"Pretty Boy! Buzz me up!"

Well now I'm even more confused. Derek never comes to my apartment. I quickly press the button letting him into the building and opening my apartment door, waiting for him to arrive.

As he comes up the stairs, he gives me a grin shouting, "Come on man! Get dressed. We're goin' out!"

I roll my eyes and retreat back into the apartment, Derek close behind me.

I sink back onto the couch, my eyes glued to the television as I tune him out.

"Aw c'mon. Don't be like that. How long have you been sitting there watching TV? Have you done anything else today, at all?"

I don't answer, I don't even look at him.

"Oh, let me guess. You've been reading all day, huh?"

"Wow, can't get anything past you huh?" I say dryly, regretting my tone as soon as the words left my mouth.

"Alright that it. You've been cooped up in here too long. Like I said before, we're going out. And I'm not taking no for an answer" he says sternly, raising an eyebrow at me.

I finally look up at him as I roll my eyes.

"You know I can kick your ass right?" Derek smirks.

"Fine" I concede. "Well...where are we going? I don't know what to wear unless you tell me what our plans are."

"Don't pretend you don't wear the same fancy button ups no matter where you end up going."

I let out a small laugh...he's got me there.

"Dinner at Rossi's. I know pretty boys are high maintenance but, hurry up or you'll make us late!" I smile at the nickname. Same old Derek.

Y/N POV:

You let out a sigh of relief as you watched your coworker approach you, ready to receive report. It had been a particularly busy shift, and you were ready to get some much-needed rest. You walked to each patient room, giving Clementine summary of the day and the latest updates on labs and vital signs. You stepped into each room with her, checking one last time to make sure each of your patients was doing well and didn't need anything else before you left. Normally you and Clem would spend some time catching up and making jokes, but she could tell you were tired and needed to be home more than anything. You wished her good luck on her shift as you made your way to the break room. After putting away your stethoscope and the large collection of pens, pencils, and markers you kept in your pockets, you finally headed towards the elevator to leave for the day.

You opened the door to your apartment to be greeted by your dog, Juneau. She was a rescue you adopted a few months back. She still needed to make progress, but she had really warmed up to you and your friends and seemed much more comfortable in her new home. After feeding her dinner and taking her for a short walk, you heated up a quick frozen dinner and sunk into your couch. Curling up in your blanket, you spent a few minutes browsing through different streaming services only to land on The Office, as usual. Your mind drifts to what your next few days might consist off. You just so happened to land 4 days off in a row, but you had no idea how you would spend your time. You glanced down at your phone as it lit up. It was your Uncle Will.

"Hey, whats up!" you chimed, glad to hear from your favorite uncle.

"Hey, (Y/N). I'm actually calling to invite you to a dinner some friends of mine are having tomorrow night. I know your schedule is real busy. But I haven't seen you much since you moved up here to Virginia! I know you haven't met many people here yet, but I think I can help you make a start. "

The kind gesture made you smile. You had always been fairly close with your father's side of the family. He had grown up in Louisiana and met your mother at a college in Texas. You spent your childhood in Houston but frequently visited the Cajun half of your family. Uncle Will had moved away once he fell in love with Jenifer Jareau, his now wife, and you hadn't seem much of him the past few years. But as luck would have it, your nursing career had lead you to a hospital in Fredericksburg, VA. You felt extremely lucky to have family nearby, or else you would have been completely alone. But sometimes you still felt that way, which is why you were so grateful for his offer.

"That actually sounds great! I am off for the next four days, and I didn't really have anything planned. Who will I be meeting at this dinner?"

"Well it's some of JJ's coworkers. They're like a second family to us, and I know they'll be just as welcoming to you. I already told them you moved up here, and they've been begging to meet you."

"Aww I can't wait to see Aunt JJ and my sweet little cousin, Henry! Its been so long since I came to visit you guys. I think Henry was barely two years old the last time I saw him."

"Well we all hope to see you a lot more now that you're here. You're like a daughter to us, Y/N. You are welcome to visit any time you like. I know nursing is a stressful job, and it can take a toll. Its important to have family and friends around you when things get tough." You could hear that this was a genuine offer and you fully planned to take him up on it in the future. Being alone in a new state was taking its toll.

"So where and when should I plan to meet for dinner?"

"I'll text you the address real quick. Everyone is planning to meet around 6. It shouldn't be too far of a drive. It's one of JJ's coworker's houses. David Rossi. He's a real easygoing guy, and he loves cooking for everyone. He loves meeting new people even more, so you should feel right at home!"

"Sounds like a fun time. Thank you again for thinking to invite me. I'm really looking forward to it!"

"Alright boo, talk to you later."

You smiled at the pet name used by the entire Louisiana side of your family. I guess the north had yet to steal his southern roots. You hung up the phone. You finally had plans. It would be nice to talk to someone who wasn't a coworker. It would also be your first excuse to dress up since moving and starting your new job. Too excited to wait, you jumped up from the couch and began to rifle through your closet for something to wear. You didn't want to be too over or underdressed. You grabbed a black spaghetti strap fit and flare dress and throw it on with some black panty hose, a lightweight maroon cardigan, and some black heels. You snapped a quick photo in the mirror and shoot a text to Aunt JJ.

Y/N: Apparently I'm joining y'all for dinner tomorrow night...is this too much???

Aunt JJ: I heard! I can't wait!

And oh my goodness, no! You look gorgeous! It will be perfect.

Also...Henry is so excited to see you!

You smiled, more confident in your choice. Aunt JJ had great taste. You had only had the chance to meet her in person a couple times, but the two of you had clicked right away and stayed in touch over text and Facetime. Sometimes she felt more like the sister you never had.

Starting to feel the effects of your particularly difficult shift, you start to get ready for bed. You wanted to be well rested for tomorrow. You say goodnight to Juneau and crawl into bed, snuggled under all the blankets. You fall asleep with a smile on your face, with the feeling that things in your life are about to take a turn for the better. You couldn't explain it...but somehow you just knew.

#fanfic #writing #criminal minds #spencer x reader #spencerreid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #romance #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #original work #original story #Spotify

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sonjaohno · 3 years

Text

Democracy in America

Hello dear friends and family,

October is off to a crisp start and I've been busy squirreling away at the library. It's already been one month since I arrived, which makes it high time for some reflection. I've been working hard to come up with clever answers to the question of "what my impressions are" mainly because (and a list of so-called impressions follows):

I thought Finns were insecure, with their country branding workshops and whatnot, perennially worried about what other people (read: the Swedes) think of us, but I can tell you, Americans are worse. In all the years I've lived in Berlin, not once has a German person (nor a Berliner—these are two completely distinct groups of people) asked me to tell them what I "think" about their country, or what my "impressions" are. Maybe they know better than to ask. Maybe they really don't care. Americans, on the other hand (including New Yorkers, though a similar non-equivalence exists here), cannot get enough of foreigners' interpretations of their country. I think it's because they genuinely don't know what to think about their country themselves and are waiting for somebody to tell them what the hell is going on here. So, what are my impressions so far?

America is home to some really great things. So far, my top three list is i) cinnamon-flavored chewing gum ii) hazelnut-flavored filter coffee (a mystery but a delightful one) iii) pecan-pumpkin-spice-flavored filter coffee (again, I don't know who came up with this or what they do to make coffee taste like a Hallmark card but I fuckin love it) iv) ditto, snickerdoodles (both the word and the pastry). Oops, that's four.

There is, however, clearly something wrong with a country that has to keep toothpaste under lock and key at the drugstore. I mean, toothpaste is expensive here—$5.99 for a tube, are you kidding me?—but it's still not exactly a luxury item. I literally have to ring a bell at Duane Reed to get an employee to open the toothpaste safe for a tube of Colgate. I wondered about this out loud to a New Yorker, who told me it's because the Duane Reed I went to is located at a "minor transportation hub," in the corner of W 110th and Broadway, which presumably means that this ludicrously wealthy Upper West Side drugstore frequented mostly by Columbia students and faculty is some kind of a crime hotspot. I should probably start carrying a gun.

Americans are loud. I feel like shushing people all the time, which makes me feel like a bad person. If anyone asked me to, I'd be more than happy to provide instructions for adjusting the volume of one's speech to different situations. It'd go something like follows: i) When outdoors, use what you would consider an "indoors voice." ii) When indoors, use what you would consider a "library voice." iii) When in the library, shut the fuck up. Pretty simple, huh?

The American economy would collapse if people stopped living on takeaway meals and coffees. I have never seen people so comfortable dishing out $20-50 per day for food they don't like and coffee they don't need. I mean, I'm not even able to get out of bed without several cups of coffee in the morning but I'd find it really hard to justify a $10 daily budget for iced-mocha-swirly lattes and another $10 for dumplings, when you can just pack a sandwich. The number of students able to afford this kind of lifestyle is just astounding. (This is Columbia, I am aware that the people without trust funds constitute a minority.) I feel positively frugal with my leftover lunches and thermos bottle of coffee (this week it's Donut Shop Roast, which disappointingly does not taste like donuts).

Americans like to think of themselves as libertarians and are famously opposed to state-imposed regulation—but I've never felt as regulated and rule-bound as I have here. It's just that the rules aren't handed down by government officials but by the various enterprises, including private businesses and universities (the latter is included in the former but deserves a honorary mention of its own), who would rather impose elaborate codes of conduct than leave people to their common senses and be sued when something inevitably happens. As one particularly pointless example, I have to complete an online covid-symptom checklist every morning before I'm allowed to enter campus—a "Daily Attestation," it's called—where I solemnly swear that I did not have a cough or a sore throat that morning, either. The only conceivable purpose of this useless exercise is to ensure that if somebody does show up on campus sneezing and wheezing their viral particles around, Columbia can't sued for not having done everything in its power to prevent the virus from spreading. Airing out rooms, though, is strictly out of the question—presumably because it's against some other rule designed to stop students from committing suicide by jumping out a third-floor window. As a person who is physiologically unable to follow pointless rules, I find this kind of self-serving, counter-logical box ticking absolutely infuriating.

It's not all bad, though. Yesterday I went to a Japanese jazz speakeasy around Midtown. We had to stand in line for about an hour, between a group of 17-year-old musical theater majors and 27-year-old jazz enthusiasts. The former were bursting out in spontaneous, perfectly synchronized song every few minutes, the latter were debating scales or keys or some such—I'm telling you, it was like walking into a badly-written scene of Glee. It was worth it though. At one point, during a several-minute-long drum solo, I experienced what can only be described as a moment of pure transcendence. People were all around me were yelling over the music and gesticulating wildly and, for a few seconds, time compressed to something graspable; a thing crackling with energy. An oceanic feeling is, in the words of turn-of-the-century mystic Romain Rolland, “a spontaneous … feeling of the ‘eternal’ (which can very well not be eternal, but simply without perceptible limits, and like oceanic, as it were).” If eternity can be found in a midtown basement, Manhattan can’t be all bad. (Below a video clip I took discreetly when entering.)

P.s. A friend of mine said that I should write an Alexis de Tocqueville -type report about my time in America, which explains the title of this post. For the literary agents and non-fiction editors reading this blog (jk, apparently it's my mum and three of her friends who read these entries—hi!!!), you can email me at sonjaohno at gmail dot com for a book deal.

#manhattan #midtown #sonja travels #nyc #america #alexis de tocqueville #oceanic feeling #romain rolland

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cityofimagines · 4 years

Text

Genuine – Sirius Black x Reader

Request: Hi! If your requests are open I would like to request for Sirius Black. Where the reader is Ravenclaw who is friends with Remus and can't stand Sirius and he has a giant crush on her and tries to win her over. You decide how it ends. Thanks! 💖

A/N: hi love! i hope i did this justice! crazy enough ive never actually written for young sirius, just post-azkaban sirius so i hope i did this justice! lmk what you guys think <3

warnings: none

word count: 1,308

Friday nights at Hogwarts meant something different to everyone. For you they were a time to catch up with your friends from other houses. You and Remus became super close during your first year at Hogwarts when you got paired up together in divination. You both bonded over how ridiculous you thought the class was, as well as your mutual love for reading and just having a chill night in. This bond obviously never broke, as here you were in your fifth year sitting at the top of the astronomy tower, just reading, chatting, and enjoying each other’s company.

It was a quiet night; the only sounds that could be heard were the soft whistle of the wind through the trees, the crackling of old book pages turning, and you and Remus’s laughs every once in a while. As nice as it was, you knew with Remus’s other best friends, it wouldn’t last long.

Like you predicted, the peace was disturbed when you heard stomping of boots up the stairs and loud voices calling out fake hexes to one another. Soon enough the other three Marauders and an amused Lily Evans emerged from below.

“Found them!” Peter exclaimed, causing you to shut your book. You figured no more reading would be done tonight.

“There you are! We’ve been looking all over for you guys. Or...at least one of us has.” James smirked and lightly hit Sirius's shoulder.

Sirius rolled his eyes at his best friend’s gesture before turning to you. “Hey Ravenclaw.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Black.” You greeted sarcastically. It was no secret that you and Sirius weren’t the best of friends. He was just way too wild for you. He loved the attention he got from girls, and thrived on going on spontaneous adventures, riding his motorcycle, and pranking people. He was just not someone you ever wanted to really associate with, however when you became friends with Remus, you were forced to.

And it would have been fine if he wasn’t utterly obsessed with you for God knows what reason. Probably just to get in your pants like with every other girl.

“So are we gonna do something fun or what?” Peter cut in. Sirius’s eyes were still locked on yours, so you bent down to pick up your other book that was still on the ground to ignore him.

“Let’s go to the common room. C’mon (y/n) we’ll sneak you in like always.” James decided.

“Or you guys could go and me and (y/n) could stay here. Or go outside. Whatever you want really.” Sirius blabbered on charmingly.

You gave a dry laugh. “I don’t think so.” James and Lily had already started down the stairs so you pushed past the long-haired boy in front of you and followed them.

Once in the hallways, you hung back behind everyone else. Remus noticed and turned to you. “You alright?” He asked sincerely.

You sighed and stopped walking. “I just don’t understand what he wants with me.” You said, frustrated. “It’s obvious he just wants to hook up or whatever he does with all those other girls and it’s annoying. You guys need to tell him to go find an actual hobby.” You continued, frustration turning into anger the more you thought about it. “I’m not just some dumb girl who wants to brag that she’s gotten with Sirius Black!” You finished and fell into Remus’s chest. Dramatic as it was, your outbreak felt necessary in that moment. Sirius has been nonstop flirting with you for months and quite frankly you were over it.

All of a sudden you were interrupted. “Hey Moony what are you guys doing?”

“Speak of the devil.” You mumbled under your breath.

Remus turned around to Sirius. “We’ll be right there! Just go up.” He called.

“Okay, be careful with my girl yeah?” He said back laughing. You groaned and Remus chuckled.

“You know how much I care for you (y/n), so you know I wouldn’t say this if I didn’t know for sure it was true.” You brought your eyes up to look at Remus. “It’s different with you.” He shrugged. “I swear all he talks about is his next plan on how to win you over. Yes he’s been with...a number of other girls but on my life I’ve never heard him talk about someone the way he talks about you. He thinks you’re the most gorgeous person he’s ever laid eyes on. And I know sometimes he can be insufferable but he really does like you.”

You didn’t really know what to say in that moment. All this time you’ve been absolutely convinced that he was just a player, and a troublemaker. Somehow it never dawned on you the fact that he was still Remus’s best friend, so obviously he must have some redeeming qualities. It also never dawned on you that maybe Sirius Black was capable of having a genuine crush.

“Oh.” Was all you could manage.

“It’s okay (y/n).” Remus said. “Look you don’t have to come hang out tonight. Go get some rest. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.” You nodded.

“Okay.”

The next day you woke up with you and Remus’s conversation lingering in your mind. You decided you had to go talk to someone about it. You quickly got dressed in some jeans and a sweatshirt and made your way down to the Great Hall to see if you could find any of your Ravenclaw friends and fill them in on what was going on in your life.

Before you could even make it through the door, you heard someone behind you calling your name. You turned around to see a disheveled Sirius running up to you. Your heart starting beating. Although he hadn’t really left your mind since last night, he was the last person you wanted to see.

“(y/n)!” He yelled and ran up to you. You moved to the side so you weren’t blocking the entrance.

“Hey.” You said slowly.

“Hey.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Look I just wanted to come apologize. Moony told me that you guys talked last night-”

“What?!” You cut him off.

“We all ended up having a little too much firewhiskey...you know how it is.” That explains the non brushed hair and disheveled outfit. You thought. “Anyways...I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Usually girls like, respond to me when I’m super outgoing or whatever but I must admit I did get a little arrogant with it. I just started falling for you really hard I guess. And if I made you uncomfortable at all I’m genuinely really sorry about it. I promise I’ll leave you alone.” He sighed.

As out of character as that was for him to say to you, so was your response back.

“Sirius.” You started and looked down at your feet. “It’s okay.”

“Huh?” The shock in his voice was evident.

You finally found the courage to return the strong gazes he had used on you so many times before. “This is a side of you I could get used to.” You said. “I don’t need you to be perfect around me. I don’t need you to be The Sirius Black around me. I don’t want that. But the part of you I just saw is someone I do enjoy. I want to know the real you.”

Sirius was beaming at my words, and I couldn’t help but return a smile. “I can do that. I promise.” He said.

“And Sirius?”

“Yes (y/n)?”

“If the offer is still on the table, Next Friday I’m free to stay here. Or go outside. Or whatever you want really.” You said calmly.

“Stealing my lines now are we?” He said with a smirk. “Guess I’ll just have to take you up on my own offer.”

#sirius black imagine #sirius black #young sirius black #young sirius imagine #marauders imagine #marauders era #marauders era imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #remus lupin #sirius black fluff #sirius x ravenclaw

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stimmypaw · 3 years

Text

Stimmypaw reads Darkest Night! The fourth text post!

Back with these uh live reading comments! Remember those? yeah! I'm on the fourth book of Warrior Cats: A Vision of Shadows :D I read The Apprentice's Quest and Thunder and Shadow and Shattered Sky and now!! I'm here :D and boy did I have a time. Click read more to see it!

NEEDLETAIL?????????

Needletail???????????

What?????

OH???????

Wh THIS GUY IS TALKIN 2 DEAD PEOPLE????

HOW WHO IS THAT

OH MY GOD

These guys are weak and dumb skyclan is epic and sharing the territory with them is good, but of course sparkpelt isn't dealing well with change wink wink nudge wink nudge nudge huh???? (this is a nod to how I project into her and say shes autistic)

I am getting anxious for tinycloud SERIOUSLY how much longer until those kits??? Everyday you show up and its WOW my tummy ssure is HUGE AND BULGING I just Wonder Oh When They'll Be Born, probably pretty soon!!! :) and then they arent!!!! Birth dammit!!!

Cherryfall cut the sick and hurt cats some slack jeez youre Fine, youre not feeding half the forest and you have THREE medicine cats ready to help you if youre not feeling well

Bastard Cherryfall I hate you /lh

Dovewing and Tigerheart have relationship drama again. What is UP with those two I simply do not understand them

Watching Bramblestar trying to control this bizarre situation is actually funny he is so close to screaming "PLEASE dont be mad :c"

SOON WHEN???? JUST KIT THOSE KITTENS DAMMIT

Get her, Alderheart

They LITERALLY said something about sharing the territory, they were like "Stars have five points baby and we need those 5 clans togetherrrr" what else do these cats want??? I know its a big change but its necessary

Wait everyone shut up that cat is named Podlight this is so important to me

Dang these cats are really still struggling :c I wish they didnt blame each other

Harestar is so cool

What the FUCK mistystar????

God what a disaster of a gathering Starclan is gonna be so pissed everyone is doing the opposite of what they should

I was holding my breath oof

I hope thunderclan gives some territory too thats too small a space for Skyclan

Oh boy oh boy oh boy i am Anxious for these Kitties

Violetpaw is me having nightmares every night

Macgyver is a heavily gringue name and I have No Clue how to say it how the hell do you say it

Update its either Mick Guyver or Mac Guyver apparently

Its fun to see how different the sisters are from one another, I love them both

I also love their mom with the name identical to puddleshine wish I got to meet her

IM CRYING BRO........M...MDB.....NFBANN.....VIOLETPAW BELONGS MY DARLING MY DAUGHTER

Sadly Twigpaw is for gender binarism 😔 /j

Twigpaw is often in her thoughts and doesn't pay attention to anything around her and I love her for that

Bad news Finpaw is gonna lose his tail, good news I can draw his tail fin-shaped

Puddleshine surgeon moment!!!

I love Graystripe and Millie

And I love that being flirty is a part of Sparkpelt's personality, I don't know what Alderheart is talking about she's always been dandelion-headed

Ok this is epic, I’m glad we’re breaking gender roles in Warrior Cats my heart dropped when the books called Briarlight cr*ppled, that’s the thing they promised not to do anymore recently right? I’m not sure but, I could use some uh less ableism on my Warrior Cats, the series is old but the newer books should be better, so yeah, good modernize these cats babyyy

OH COOL Skyclan journey!!! Fun I hope they find someone :] also fuck Molewhisker and Cherryfall bastards.

Jayfeather is gonna miss Alderheart too much for him to leave hehehe

ALL of Starclan showed up just to call out Riverclan pahahah

oooo is shadowclan haunted?????

FINALLY TINYCLOUD IS KITTING YES GOD YES GO QUEEN GOOOO!!!!

I wonder why Twigpaw wants to stay behind, there has to be more than just the camp stuff

"I wish I were more positive like Twigpaw, but at least I'm just as scarred by the death of my loved ones as my dad :] I like being like him"

Violetpaw witnesses a car crash 😔 that was a bit messy what happened to those cars also why the hell was one of them smaller was it a bike??? Or ???? Idk what's up with it!!!

Needletail just happens to have slow-down turned on for her on the discord chat so she can only say like a few words each hour :/ why the hell is she here tho Violetpaw needs to get OVER your death!!!!

This short exchange has made me love Dewpaw

Also, I love Twigpaw, I still wonder why she stayed behind tho

Ahh, is it cus she feels too estranged from her family :c ? I wish her mom was around maybe that would help

Jee Twigpaw be a tad more empathic, I can see Twigpaw struggles with that sometimes

You can't cheer him up right now he's grieving, just find him on common ground, talk to him, don't try to make him happy just try to keep him company

Oh wow finpaw that's a dangerous thing to say I hope Twigpaw doesn't crumble under the pressure to never be sad because people like her because she's happy and her being sad would be bad

ALSO I JUST REMMEMBRERD UH TWIGPAW MENTIONED BRIARLIGHT BUT BERRYNOSE IS RIGHT THERE???? HE IS RIGHT HE DIDNT DIE OFF SCREEN IM SURE OF IT WAIY

BERRYNOSS IS RIGHT THERE I CHDCKED!!!! HE LOST HIS TAIL TOO AND HES A GREAT WARRIOR, TWIGPAW!!!! YOU SHOULD HAVE MENTIONED IT ITS MORE RELATABLE

Okay I'm glad they're getting along this is nice

Oh look twigpaw you Are like your father :] this is cute

Skyclan begins to fish competitively I'm glad

I like it when medicine cats bicker about their leader's behaviors ehheheh, Jayfeather talking about how weak Shadowclan is, Alderheart being annoyed at his father for wanting to stay silent, the others worried about the tensions this is all cheff the kisser

Jayfeather spitting the truths about how Starclan doesn't know shit, and he is very much one to speak

Puddleshine: Rowanstar stepped up the patrols :c

Leadstar: He has warriors enough for that?? Damn good for him

Dang poor Skyclan I hope they manage stuff better soon

Oooo the girls are fighting!!!

Alderheart starclan anxiety time dang

Sheep :]

Needletail :[

I'm sad Ravenpaw isn't here, this is a lovely reunion scene but knowing Barley will be alone when they all leave breaks my heart

Oh, maybe not, but if they stay I'll be sad also cus Skyclan needs its warriors

Aw man, Twigpaw is struggling :c

OUCH

I WANT SKYCLAN 2 SWIM THO......

Omg crimes

That sounds kinda possessive twigpaw!

DOVEWING?????

WhHAHAGAHAHA WHERE DID THAT COME FROM

omg tigerstar 2 real

Whats he gonna do to rowanstar???

ALRIGHT THATA OVER THEN PAHAHA

Aw, I'm glad they're having fun tho, and that twigpaw sees herself as skyclan

Alderheart, as he meets someone for the first time in a while: ARE YOU OKAY???

Blackstar protagonist moment

The medicine cats: our gods are toying with us again and destiny is uncertain

Leaders: I cannot DO this right now PLEASE leave and let me care for The Real Issues

Alderheart: YOU WILL hang out at my house Willowshine this isn't up for debate

Riverclan suffered enough and it's their turn to throw a tantrum about it, honestly good for them hsghahah

Alderheart asks his father to go on a quest to check people's feet

WHAT THR HELL IS A CANTANKEROUS

Alderheart and Willowpelt sitting there watching Shadowclan fight

This is really funny

HEWWO????

Puddleshine, in his eyes: help help

I love Skyclan

Ok this sounds like it's gonna be very very fun

Mission impossible: Escape From São Paulo

Oh, is Fallowfern deaf? That's so poggers omg I wanna see more of her

Edit: fallowfern is an elder that lost her hearing with age and retired after that happened :/ boring

I love leafstar so much

Juniperclaw: aren't you gonna punish her????

Leafstar: why

Juniperclaw: when I tell rowanstar he's gonna be pissed

Leafstar: don't tell him

Juniperclaw: the fuck is wrong with you and your clan??? Where is everyone???????

Leafstar: busy

Icon

I don't trust abled people specially able-bodied people telling disabled people they just have to train harder and feeling sorry for yourself won't help.

But this is the closest to a positive message to disabled people we have ever had in warriors so I guess I'll take it but I want better

IVYPOOL!!!💖💖💖💖💕

Dang ivypool what a way to show someone you miss them hahaha

Twigpaw: uhhhh how's dovewing?

Ivypool: what do you mean did she do something illegal I'm sure she did

Ivypool is a seriously funny character WHY are you yelling at the young adult about your sisters illegal activities she doesn't know anything about it!!!!

Alderheart goes on an adventure

Feet inspector on the road!!!!

Jasper is so funny I love him

Omg what's he got against clan cats??? What's his sad backstory????

YEESSSS SPARKPELT MY LOVE 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💕💕💕💕💕💕💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💕💕💕

Sparkpelt your opinion sucks but I love you

I'm really really glad they had this moment this is really sweet, they hadn't talked for a while but this is genuine like, we hadn't had this sort of relationship in so long in the books with just, dialogue yknow??? THEYRE TALKING ABOUT THINGS

And the pause Sparkpelt takes between her speaking to fix what she's saying "I'm sorry for saving you :c no wait uhh not exactly but like" this is so good so natural so fun I love you sparkpelt

I get why she has a diferent opinion on Skyclan it's good for someone close to Alderheart to have a different mindset from him and for him to have someone like uh be opposites from him a lil yknow contrats his characteristics makes both siblings fun round and full of kitty do you get what I'm saying???

I love this

I love Sparkpelt, love her lil anxious moments, love her, love that she just wants to fool around with toms and enjoys Larksong but doesn't want to get serious you go girl

They wanted to write smart-ass they wanted to write smart-ass so bad

They're doing this in the rain?????

I'm quite certain Violetpaw is a young adult by this point its valid for her to go

Wh why did you let your cat out in the rain dude!!! When it comes back it's gonna dirty up the whole place it's wet out there!!!! And the cold is gonna get in the house!!!!!!!

I WAS HOLDING MY BREATH OH LORD

That was SO INTENSE AND SO FUNNY AND SO MUCH, IM SO GLAD SHE MADE IT I GOT SCARED

Oh this is so epic

That moment when your cat nearly dies and then it runs off and you go after it and then a bunch of other cats show up and start running with it

I hope Twigpaw can see the others soon

Glad to see her keeping her medicine cat knowledge ehehehe

???????

Sandynose I hate you you are so abled

Sandynose: I don't want my son to feel distanced from his peers so I'm distancing him from his peers

DOVEWING???

SANDYNOSE SHUT UP IM GOING TO KILL YOU ANS MURDER YOU

I'm so upset with Sandynose WHY isn't leafstar seeing this WHY DOESNG ANYONE SEE THIS SOMSONE PLEASE CONFORT AND LOVE MY CHILD TWIGPAW DOESNT DESERVE THIS

Angry sad upset why

Piscina

Thanks graystripe

Ok who's dying this time

Ok no one just a background cat got hurt he will survive otherwise it would be relevant

This was intense though what will happen now???

YES FINALLY

Oh this is lovely so good they're here!!! The rest of skyclan has arrived and we are all happy together

That dream felt good

NEEDLETAIL??? AGAIN

Where were you at!!!!

What!!!

Check this man's feet how many toes are there this could be good

What

Hegshahwha what the fuck is up with this guy

Okay I like him

Ohhh THATS tree

Change your name if you don't like it you sound trans already

Yeah nothing makes one smarter like dying

This is very fun I'm excited for more of whatever happening

Twigpaw :c

HIS SNIFFLES

Oh no

Hhhhnn I want Twigpaw to be happy so bad, I hate seeing her struggles

Sandynose you are so evil and very detested by me

You can and you SHOULD feel angry at Sandynose he SUCKS and he is being needlessly mean at you!!!!! There are much better ways to bring up the possibility that maybe you'd be happier with thunderclan!!! Fuck off Sandynose

Oh so Snowbush hasn't improved, maybe he will die?

Poor Alderheart

Oh fuck there he goes

Yeah

Aw man, rip to the background cat

That was a heavy death too

Aw, I was hoping the rest of Skyclan would show up before the gathering, maybe just after it???

I wonder what's going on in Shadowclan

TIGERHEARTS MISSING HUH???

The couple was kidnapped

HUH????

Oh my lord oh fuck

Can't anyone step up to lead why do they depend on Tigerheart so much???

Jesus christ

Alderheart kills his gods

This is so chaotic and funny I'm worried as hell for shadowclan but excited a lot is happening

HI TREE AGSGAHAH

Tawnypelt >:(

Puddleshine: WAIT DONT KICK HIM OUT, CHECK OUT HIS FREAKY FEET INSTEAD

Oh dear

Twigpaw :c

TWIGPAW :CCCC Man rememebr when I said I hope Twigpaw doesn't crumble under the pressure of being happy for others? yeah

GET OUT SANDYNOSE I DONT CARE YOURE BEING REASOMABLE FOR ONCE YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN LATER

I'm so heartbroken for them

Uh pdhsgahab okay then

Bye finpaw

Wow that was easy for him

This is fun

I'm still sad as hell

Okay there's a lot going on right now wow

The owl scene was funny as hell to picture, this dramatic prophetic moment and the cats just "uuggh is that a prophecy??? Nooo"

Okay so

There's some shadowclan cats missing, considering the many sleekwhisker maps I'm sure she's up to no good but I have no clue what happened to the others and I hope they're okay

Wow! That was really something

Fantastic ending to a very good book its, definitely a different energy from the third but I'm really enjoying this I'm still excited as hell!!! I got worried things would get kinda bad from here but nope!!!! Very fun stuff for now this is very very good and I am enjoying it

This is definitely one of the most fun arcs I've read so far!!! The drama the stakes the little moments everything is tying together really well into a very fun story I'm enjoying a lot!

I worry for Twigpaw and hope for her happiness, and Violetshine too, hope her and Hawkwing deal well with missing her. Tree is being interesting. Alderheart wasn't much of a focus here but always fun to see him trying to solve the damn prophecy no leaders seem to care about. Mousewhisker was okay??? Lots of very fantastic turns for all events and uh let's see where this all goes next!!!

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frenchlangdon · 5 years

Text

Late Night Louisiana Pt. 4

Summary: It’s late 19th century, Y/N moves to Louisiana to learn more about vampires. But what happens when she finds one likely creature of the night at Porterhollow Cemetery?

LNL Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire!bucky x reader

He came back after what felt like an eternity, he barged through the front door, scaring every nerve in my body causing me to launch about two feet into the air. "Christ! Don't do that! Give a girl a warning next time and knock before you bust the door off it's hinges." I held onto the back of the chair as I tried to steady my heartbeat. "Sorry." A grin broke over his face. He wiped the blood surrounding his mouth onto the sleeve of his linen button up. "Did you—you really just wiped blood on your white shirt."

"Yeah. And?"

"You could've asked if I had a muckender or somethin."

"Too late now." He simply shrugged and sat in the chair closest to me. He turned his body towards me and just stared at me, his chin resting in the palm of his hand. "What? Why are you staring at me like that?" I felt the air get hot and my body tensed up immediately. "You're so fizzin."

He said in a whisper. I watch his eyes rake over my face, as if he were studying every inch of it. "What was that hand thing you did back there at the cemetery?"

He cocked his head to the side and hummed in confusion. "You pressed our hands together while you asked me questions." I explained.

"Oh, that. If I'm touching you, I can tell if you are lying. It's an added sense, from one of the potions I took before I turned."

"You can't like...read minds...can you?" I asked. Hoping to God he can't. He shook his head. Oh thank the heavens. "So all of your senses are heightened, correct?"

"Yeah. I have heightened hearing, vision, smell, and touch. Right now I can hear the faint beating of your heart. I can see things the human eye can't, small things, things that are pretty far. Smell, I have the nose of a hound, I can smell your blood. And touch, when I touch a person I can feel the emotions they're feeling and also see if they're gummin me while they're speaking."

"So what does my blood smell like?"

"It's not a very strong smell, but all I can make out is a sweet citric scent."

"I eat a lot of oranges..." We both laugh and it grew silent after, it was quite peaceful, the crickets were chirping and the frogs were croaking.

"What's a walrus?" He asked.

"Huh?"

"Earlier, you thought I had walrus teeth. What's a walrus?"

"It's a marine mammal, they live in the ocean, kind of look like seals, except they have two teeth protruding out from their mouth. I've never seen one in person, only seen illustrations in books. I can show you tomorrow at the bookshop."

"I don't know if that's a good idea..." He shifted in the chair and looked down. "I don't want to force you to do anything but I think you'd really like it. Just go out into the town for a bit. It's actually really fun not being a hermit crab." His jaw dropped and looked at me with a surprised face.

"You really know how to insult a man." I shrugged.

"No one knows what you look like, nobody knows your name... it couldn't hurt."

"I suppose."

"So you'll go into town with me?" I asked with a giant smile. "Yeah. Sure."

"Great! We can get some coffee and I can. Wait. Can you drink coffee?"

"I can but it doesn't quench the thirst. I can eat food and it can fill me up but I still get the painful hunger for blood."

"Oh... okay. Well anyways, we can get some coffee and I can show you that walrus!" I exclaimed proudly. He smiled softly, his expression showing genuine excitement. "And if it gets to be too much for you and you want to head back here, we'll drop whatever it is we're doing and head back. Promise." I held out my pinky. He looked at my pinky and back up to my eyes, "What are you doing with your finger?" I gasp out loud. "It's called a pinky promise! You hook your pinky finger with mine. And that, my friend, is a solid pinky promise." I smiled at him as I watch him hook his pinky to mine. "Pinky promise." He mumbled. I pulled my pinky away, "So did you stay at the cemetery all day until you got hungry?"

"Pretty much." He nodded and kept his gaze on the lantern that sat in the middle of the oak wood table.

"Don't you get bored?"

"Yeah. I've been bored for years. Just didn't really know how to come back in to town. If I just showed up into town I'd need a backstory or else the townspeople would get suspicious."

"Well starting tomorrow morning, you'll be a friend from Texas. And as for a name... just make one up."

"How did we meet?"

"Our mothers were friends, we met as soon as we came out of the womb." I giggled.

"Okay. But can I pass as a twenty-four year old?" He glanced at me and raised a brow. "Most definitely. You don't look fifty, you know? Ya don't have a lick of grey hair." I teased. "The oldest you look is twenty-eight." I said. He nodded and continued ogling the lantern. "So do you know what name you're gonna use?"

"James Barnes. But you’ll call me Bucky."

"You even came up with a nickname! How did you do that so fast?" I asked, somewhat amazed.

I'm horrible when it comes to making up names. Cause when you're snooping around asking about vampires in different cities you never want to use your real name. Don't ask me why.

I've been Ilyana Medelrose and Svetlana Romanov.

There's nothing wrong with these names but they're definitely not normal around these parts. So instead of getting the information I need I get questions on where I'm from because they've never met anyone with my name before.

"I think quickly, darlin." He smirked.

"I can see that." I chuckled, this man—vampire, is so intriguing. "So the man in the paintin' with you, that your husband?" He asked as he pointed to the painting of Steve and I. I got up and retrieved the painting and sat back down on the chair. "Oh god no! He's just a friend. A really good friend. He's very sweet, I think you'll like him." He studied it, in the painting Steve was staring down at me with a smile as I stared straightforward with a wide smile.

"Good to know."

"Well I'm pretty tuckered out. I think it's bed time." I said. "I only have one bed... I hope you don't mind sleeping with me. If it bothers you-"

"No! It's okay with me. More than okay."

"Oh okay." I let out a sigh of relief. "I thought maybe you wouldn't be comfortable sleeping with me. Didn't really want to sleep on a lousy hay pallet."

You both go up from the chairs and walked to the bedroom. I opened my dresser and got out a knee length white slip. "You can get comfortable. You can take your linen shirt and trousers off, I don’t mind." I said.

I go to the bathroom and quickly change into the slip. I can't really afford the night gowns and slips are basically the same but way cheaper. I throw my clothes from the day in the corner by the tub.

I go back into the bedroom and he's standing there, no trousers, he had loose trouser-briefs, is that what they were called? I don't know. He was slowly unbuttoning his shirt. Each undone button revealed his tan and toned chest, his torso was greatly defined. Did the potions do that to him? He looked up and smirked. "I looked like this before they captured me." He said.

"How did you...?"

"Come on let's get in bed." He pulled the sheets and blanket back. We both climbed in.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

"Night, Bucky." Something changed in his eyes once I said his new name. Surely it's just the exhaustion kicking in, so I just left it alone.

So I'm really about to fall asleep next to an almost naked vampire. I bet no one else could say that.

#bucky x reader #bucky au #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes mini series #bucky barnes x reader #vampire!bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #late night louisiana #vampire!au #vampire!bucky

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kbstories · 5 years

Text

And with this third chapter, the fic is complete!

Only Lost The Night

Tags: Recovery, First Kiss, Fishing (non-graphic)

No additional spoilers apply.

>>Read on AO3

<<First Chapter

<<Second Chapter

The coffee comes out of the pot piping hot, quickly warming his mug and filling the morning air with its scent.

Arthur downs it in big gulps, wincing as it burns down his throat. The bad taste in his mouth is gone, though, and his queasy stomach settles with something to digest. The cold sweat he wakes up in every morning, or the tremor in his hands, well – recovery, as it turns out, is one tough son of a bitch, much more so when your alcohol supply is out of reach.

A sigh worms its way out his mouth, clouding white in front of him. There's precious little for him to do in camp – he can barely raise his left arm higher than chest height without pulling some wound or other – and most of the gang's inner workings come along well without his input.

This must be the longest Arthur's been off duty in... a while. It's disorienting, to say the least.

It doesn't help that, additionally to Miss Grimshaw's care – a duty she caries out with a gruff undertone in her voice but an indulgent glint in her eyes –, Charles has been watching him like a hawk, grumbling about his hard work going to waste otherwise.

Arthur would be the first to admit that drinking himself into a stupor a week into his mandatory bedrest was not his brightest moment. It definitely beat sitting on his ass all day long, doing fuck-all to earn his keep.

At this rate, he'll end up going to the dogs like Uncle. Isn't that a fun thought to entertain?

Even now he can feel the man's gaze on him, all the way across camp. Arthur raises his mug in the general direction of Charles's usual post, and plants himself on one of the logs surrounding the camp fire. See, I can be good, too.

A lazy salute is his meagre reward. Arthur shakes his head, only noticing the smile on his own face when he goes to light a cigarette. Drawing deep, he exhales slowly, finding himself enjoying the bite of nicotine on his tongue instead of merely going through the motions.

Maybe he can ask Hosea for one of them crime novels he's been so involved with lately. How was the author called again? Arthur flicks the excess ash to the ground, chasing the name on the tip of his tongue. Nope, gone. Never been his strongest suit, books, but Jack's seems interested too as of late, and with how things have been, the boy deserves some hero's tale or other to dream of.

… not one of Hosea's, then. God knows the kid sees enough blood and death as is.

Gaze lost in the fire and with nowhere else to go, Arthur's thoughts drift like smoke in the wind. To Jack, and how somewhere in this mess, he became Uncle Arthur to him. About that boy Kieran, so desperate for somewhere to belong it's painful to watch at times, and John, who had it all and disappeared who-knows-where all the same. Dutch and Hosea and that ever-shifting dream they keep chasing.

And yet his fingers itch for... something more, something to touch, to hold on to, like a pen or a gun or–

A genuine connection, to tether his very being to something bigger than himself. What if, Arthur thinks.

What if, what if.

He blows another puff into the sky and watches it disappear into nothingness.

“Okay. Hunting. Nothin' fancy, just a doe or two. Need practice with that bow, right? Takes a lifetime to master, an' all that–”

“No.”

“Oh for... One ride. To– to the general store in Rhodes, or, uh, to the tree line and back. A glimpse at the fields.”

Charles hitches his elbow on his knee, hand under his chin. “No”, he repeats, the low, serious timbre of his voice crumbling with veiled amusement. A searching gaze is leveled on Arthur, the kind to reveal every weakness hiding under his skin.

“Is that what it takes, Morgan? Two weeks in camp?”

“Ain't beggin' yet”, Arthur mumbles under his breath and throws Charles an unhappy look – Charles, who is currently sitting cross-legged on his saddle stand, confident as a king and entitled like one, too. Behind him, Dyani sniffs Charles's hair and pushes it around with her nose, rubbing his shoulder in the process.

It took Arthur weeks of constant work (and treats) to get the hang of the Andalusian's fickle temper and here they are, chummy like old friends. Traitors, the lot of them. Arthur's shoulders slump in defeat.

“Fine, have it your way.”

The statement isn't immediately followed by action, however. The mere thought of wasting more hours walking a line into the dirt, watching people come and go and feeling their sympathetic eyes on him is revolting to an almost physical degree. Arthur stares at his cot, just a few feet away, and can't bring himself to move.

“Arthur.”

Just his name, without pity. He closes his eyes and rubs his neck, staring at his boots as he struggles to find the right words.

“Just feelin' useless, is all. Can't do nothin' for weeks now an' with the O'Driscolls and whoever else breathin' down our necks... Ain't the man I am, Charles. To sit around an' wait for things to happen.”

A rustle of movement makes him glance up. Charles hops to his feet, easy as anything, and Arthur barely registers he's throwing something until he's grabbed it. A fishing rod? Arthur tilts his head with a frown.

“But you–”

“Teach me”, Charles says simply, and all Arthur can do is shut his mouth and nod, trying (and failing) to ignore how warm his chest feels.

Little by little, the smooth lines of graphite connect, fill in blank space, spill over the shadowed fold between the pages and beyond.

The gentle rocking of the boat, the rhythmic lapping of water against lacquered wood, the sting of a wound, still healing – it all fades into the background, there but muted as his attention is bracketed by the edges of his journal.

With the sun warming his back, Arthur draws.

In front of him sits Charles, leaning back just as he is, feet propped up against the boat's curved hull. Rod and line in place, his eyes are alert and search the surface of the lake for any movement, the very picture of endless patience. The breeze plays with a loose strand of his hair before he reaches up and tucks it away.

Charles fishes, and Arthur draws... him.

(Arthur's sketch of Charles by @ISpitznagel)

His shoulder doesn't allow him to sit as he usually does, legs folded close to his chest and journal balanced on his knees, angled away so nobody can see what he's working on. The members of the gang quickly learned that whoever tries is more likely to catch a fist to the jaw than a glimpse at his sketches. What is to others a collection of landscapes and animals and the odd person, to Arthur, well...

Things in his life don't have the best relationship with permanence, as it were. He'd rather commit what he can to paper before they inevitably disappear too.

Charles asks later, “What do you think of when you draw?”, when the light has grown too weak to keep going and Arthur reached for his pack of cigs to occupy his hands instead. Arthur, who drew in his lap instead of on his knees and knows that Charles saw.

He finds he doesn't mind one bit.

“Depends”, he mutters, stretching his legs out as far as the narrow boat allows, bumping against Charles's hip. “Sometimes nothin', sometimes somethin' I can't put words to just yet. Just keepin' track of things, in my own way. Makes 'em less unfathomable, if I may borrow one of them fancy terms.”

Charles snorts, “You may”, his grin there and gone in a flash. He's set aside the fishing rod – with the bucket they brought along filled to the brim with fish, there wouldn't be anywhere to put them anyways –, merely watching Arthur smoke now.

“Never was much the artistic type, myself. Looks all a bit like magic to me.”

Arthur grins back, offering him a cig of his own. Charles shrugs and takes one out of the box, leaning close to the match Arthur lights for him; his face is momentarily lit by its flaring tip, his eyes reflecting the embers' glow.

Their fingers brush and Arthur hums, exhales another smoke-filled breath into the night sky.

“Well I'd show you how, Charles, but if you take to it as quickly as fishin', what unique skills would that leave me with?”

Charles shrugs. “I can think of some”, he counters easily, another step in this dance of theirs that they slip into on nights like these. Teasing words wrapped around tender spots and soft-spoken secrets. Arthur takes the compliment for what it is, shaking his head fondly.

They smoke. Arthur tells Charles of the time he went fishing with Jack, months ago now; how hard it had been for the kid to focus on the fish, and less so on picking flowers.

“Seems the creative sort, you know? Better to let 'em make things. Kid's too young for all this crap we keep puttin' him through.”

“Does Marston know, though?” Charles sighs. “Some days it seems to me like you're more of a father to that boy than he is.”

Arthur frowns, rubs at his chest and that dull ache that, years later, is still there.

“Well, in some ways... Can't up and leave for a year an' expect things to remain the same, I guess. But John cares, or at least I think he does.” A pause. “'cause that's the thing, ain't it? Dutch taught us to give a shit 'bout family an' whatnot but, John an' I, we ain't got the same charisma he does. 's one of those things that's easier said than done.”

For a while, Charles says nothing. Just sits and smokes, looking into the distance. Turning some thought or other in his head, Arthur assumes. Eventually: “Guess you're right. Just doesn't feel good, seeing a kid on the run. Too much of that, as of late.”

“Ain't that the truth”, Arthur nods, righting himself to shake off some of the somber mood weighing on his shoulders. Smirking, he nudges Charles's knee with his own. “Just glad he stuck by that when them O'Driscolls got me. Didn't know I was even worthy of the best damn rescue squad we got.”

Charles's eyes snap to his then, narrowing a fraction. “Huh?”

“Dutch, I mean. An' you.”

“Oh.” That peculiar expression vanishes, Charles's face all-too-neutral. “Guess so”, he repeats, and Arthur draws back a little.

“Did I, uh–“ Glancing down, Arthur fiddles with the burned-out stub, staining his fingers with ash. “Didn't mean no offense, Charles. Been complainin' a lot but I wouldn't be here at all without you. Just wanted to let you know, 'm takin' none of that for granted.”

Suddenly Charles's hand is there, giving Arthur's a gentle squeeze. “Hey. That's not what I meant. Was just somewhere else, there.”

Automatically, Arthur squeezes back.

“Point still stands. Thank you.”

A quiet chuckle reels him back in, as it always does these days, “I'd do it again in a heartbeat, you know that”, and Arthur can't not look up at those words, searching his expression for– What, exactly?

What if, what if. The distance is gone, Charles's gaze warming further as Arthur's thumb brushes over the scarred back of his hand, feeling the calm rhythm of his pulse against his.

“What are we doing, Charles?”

The question is soft, said without any idea where it's headed: a road untraveled, missing from every map yet waiting to be explored.

Charles blinks, taken off guard. He opens his mouth, hesitates, admits, “Whatever you want us to”, sounding just as vulnerable as Arthur feels.

A split-second decision: Arthur tugs, Charles follows, catching himself against the boat. “Arthur”, he whispers, close enough Arthur can feel his breath on his face.

Arthur rasps, “Tell me to stop”, but Charles never does; he leans in, interlacing their fingers in the same moment their lips meet, tentatively – Arthur's eyes flutter shut, his fingers find the collar of Charles's shirt blindly, pull him ever-closer as he melts into it.

They barely part between one kiss and the next; Arthur murmurs Charles's name with the little breath he can catch, and “Fuck”, as Charles's tongue pushes into his mouth and he tastes smoke. His blood sings, throbbing in his veins in a dizzying rush, all the more prominent when Charles's thigh slides between his, caging him in–

The white-hot flash of pain comes so unexpected Arthur gasps, twisting his shoulder away from the pressure. Charles flinches, leans back, “Shit, sorry”, he pants out, mouth spit-slick and eyes wide.

Arthur can barely hear it over how loud his heart is, drumming away in his chest– “'m okay”, he says because Charles looks like he needs to hear it, but he doesn't let go, not yet.

“Come back. Please?”

Charles sways like he's drunk, nods – presses his forehead against Arthur's, noses brushing, but his tone is cautious, now. “We– This is not wise. You need time to heal.”

Arthur laughs, more than a little husky. “Do I look like I care about wise right now? Fuck, Charles.”

Charles's voice isn't faring much better; he hums a low “mmhm” before he kisses Arthur again, fleetingly. “Fuck me, indeed. I swear I had pure intentions with this.”

“You hate fishing. Dunno why you tried to convince me otherwise.”

“... I do, sorry.”

They share a smile, and Arthur shakes his head, tracing the curve of Charles's lips with his thumb.

“I don't mind. I prefer the alternative, too.”

>>Read on AO3

#red dead redemption #rdr2 #arthur morgan #charles smith #charthur #rdr fanfiction #fuckin......... finally #i'll probably write smut next lmao it's been a while #but these boys desperately need to 👏🏽 get 👏🏽 it 👏🏽#pls rb to feed your local fanfic writer!#my stuff #RDR

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scifibi · 7 years

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congrats on 1.5k Mel!!!! 🎉💜 i love your writing and I have a prompt for you: bellarke soulmates au where the first words they say to you are tattoed on your body. person A: I can't believe dumbledore dies! person B: really? at a midnight release, asshole? I don't mind who's who. thanks 😌

ahhh thank you Scarlet @cabeswaterblakes too just to make sure you get your fic!

YOUR BELLARKE FIC:

no pause, no rewind

[also on ao3]

As far as the whole soulmates thing goes, Bellamy’s never been much of a believer.

It’s just kind of hard to see the point, really. His mother didn’t seem to care much when she had him with a guy who wasn’t her soulmate and, as far as Bellamy can tell, took off as soon as he could get his shoes on. She certainly didn’t seem to care much either when she decided to have a second kid with some other random, who knocked her up and got cold feet a mere month before Octavia was born.

Unfortunate life circumstances aside, he supposes the bulk of his disbelief stems from impracticality. There’s just too much logistical baggage to worry about. Like, what if this person’s supposed to be the one person meant for you, but they’re already married to someone else? What if you meet your soulmate on some completely off chance in a foreign city, and then find out that the two of you live thousands of miles apart? What if something happens — an accident or an unexpected tragedy or something — that changes who they are beyond repair or recourse?

Or — and this is, without a doubt, miles worse — what if you’re like his sister, Octavia, and all you have written on your palm is a simple ‘hi’?

That’s it. ‘Hi’.

Octavia could literally have a thousand soulmates. That’s fucking terrifying.

(She insists that she’ll know when it’s the right person. The right ‘hi’, out of the millions she’s bound to hear throughout her life. She’s just gonna know, some way, somehow. And he’s the crazy one for being skeptical.)

She’s always told him he’s an idiot, simply for having rational concerns. Yeah, well, it’s not like she’s ever had to deal with the words ‘Really? At a midnight release, asshole?’ emblazoned across the inside of her forearm in loopy cursive.

“A midnight release, Bell,” she’d say to him whenever he grumbled, grabbing his wrist to point emphatically at the words. “You know where you’re going to meet your soulmate. You know when, too! Don’t you realise how lucky you are?”

Lucky. Yeah, right. Tell that to all the mothers tutting disapprovingly at twelve-year-old him, ushering their kids away like he’s got a myriad of other swear words tattooed all over the rest of his body.

(Why the fuck did he have to get such a fucking foul-mouthed soulmate?!)

And yet, for all his disbelief, it doesn’t quite stop his stomach from turning discomforting little flips whenever he goes to a midnight release for anything, whether it’s a book or a movie or a stupid video game.

Even so, here he is, twenty-three years old, with dozens of midnight releases under his belt, and — nope. Still no soulmate.

It’s a good thing, he supposes. The longer his soulmate takes to show up, the longer he has to gather rational, concrete evidence against this whole melodramatic affair of a genetic arrangement. By the time he does meet his soulmate, he’s pretty sure he’ll be fully capable of presenting a solid argument on why both of them deserve to be let off this very stupid hook.

In the meantime, he can focus on all the other things in his life.

Stuff that’s actually important.

Stuff like the upcoming release of the latest Harry Potter movie.

“This is stupid,” Miller announces as he pulls his jacket tighter around himself. “We could have just come to see this shit tomorrow morning. Or better yet, tomorrow afternoon. You know. Like normal people.”

“It’s Harry Potter, Miller,” Bellamy says, shivering through his own coat. “We have to watch it the second it comes out. Do you have any idea how fast spoilers get around with a franchise of this magnitude?”

“I know what kind of geeks a ‘franchise of this magnitude’ tends to attract,” Miller says darkly, as a trio of teenagers dressed in scarlet Quidditch robes bustles past the queue they’re currently in the middle of, broomsticks in hand. “Seriously, is the dressing up strictly necessary?”

Bellamy grins. “It’s all part of the experience.”

Miller scoffs, but even he can’t help smiling at a gaggle of small children being shepherded past by two very harried looking adults, all of them clad in the signature black of Hogwarts robes, complete with tiny pointed hats. “Yeah, whatever. Baby geeks are cute and all… but they’re still geeks.”

“That’s the spirit,” Bellamy says bracingly, sneaking his hand out of his pocket to give him a quick clap on the back.

Miller rolls his eyes, tugging on his beanie reflexively. “The fuck do you care about spoilers, anyway? You’ve already read all the books, like, ten times.”

“Twelve,” Bellamy corrects, countering Miller’s grumpy glare with a bright grin. “Yeah, but knowing what’s going to happen isn’t the same as seeing it happen. There’s a billion ways they can play it out onscreen.” They shuffle forward with the rest of the queue. “Like, it’s fucking surreal, isn’t it? Seeing stuff happen in real-time like that, instead of just in your head.”

“Why shouldn’t that mean it isn’t real?” Miller quotes drolly. “Or whatever the hell it is he says.”

Bellamy whips round to stare at him. “Fuck, I totally forgot! I can’t believe Dumbledore dies!”

A sharp scoff sounds, slicing harshly through the air.

“Really?” a voice demands from somewhere behind him. “At a midnight release, asshole?”

He whirls around instantly, brows snapping together in outrage.

“Are you serious?” he shoots back hotly, hackles raised. “Read a book, you—”

What happens next in his head, he thinks, must be very similar to what happens to a laptop when it freezes up and he has to hold down the power button to force a reboot.

‘Really? At a midnight release, asshole?’

He gapes wordlessly, her voice echoing off the corners of his eerily silent brain, the words starkly familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

For what it’s worth, the blonde girl standing before him seems every bit as thrown, her blue eyes wide and fixated on his, mouth hanging open as they continue to stare at each other.

“Uh,” Miller says cautiously, glancing between him and the blonde. “If this is what I think it is—”

Suddenly, the girl snaps into motion. She shrugs her left arm out of her coat, holding it out as she yanks the sleeve of her sweater up to her elbows.

Her expression is completely unreadable, but there they are. ‘Are you serious? Read a book, you’, printed in his blocky handwriting across her forearm, the exact spot where her words are scribbled across his own arm.

Fuck. Is that really how it ended up transcribed? ‘Read a book, you’?

What, has the universe never heard of the em dash before? He sounds like a fucking idiot.

“Okay,” Miller says, brows lifted high. “Well, that definitely looks like what I think it is.” He glances at Bellamy with a frown, prodding experimentally at his shoulder. “Hello?”

“Is he conscious?” the blonde asks Miller, briskly tugging her sleeve back down before slipping her arm back into her coat sleeve.

“I think so,” Miller reports, waving a hand in front of Bellamy’s nose. “He’s probably just— oh, nope. Here he is.”

Bellamy blinks slowly, his gaze drifting over the blonde’s frame before returning to her face. “Uh. Hey.”

“Hey,” she echoes, one brow arching, a little expectant, a little annoyed and — if he’s not mistaken — the littlest bit amused. “So. I guess we’re—”

“I guess so,” he finishes quickly. He’s not sure why, but he just really doesn’t want to hear the word right now. Not even from her. Especially not from her.

She shrugs, the movement light and confident. All the same, he gets the vague impression that she feels just as unsure as he does right now. “Huh. This is… a hell of a first meeting.”

He starts in surprise. “Yeah, I—” He trails off abruptly, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t— are you telling me you haven’t read the Harry Potter books?”

To his shock, she looks completely nonplussed. “No.”

His jaw drops. “No?!” Who the fuck hasn’t read Harry Potter?! It's… it’s Harry Potter!

She folds her arms defensively over her middle, but he catches the slightest quirk at the very corners of her mouth, like she’s faintly amused by his reaction. “To be completely honest, I’d never even seen a Harry Potter movie up until, like, two days ago.”

He actually splutters then. “Two days ago?!” He stares at her, eyes goggled. “But how—”

She shrugs easily, and, okay, that’s a definite smirk on her lips. “I don’t know. I’ve been busy, I guess.” The smirk widens just a smidge. “You know. Doing things that don’t revolve around fictional magic schools.”

His cheeks flare with heat. “Wow. Wow.” He crosses his own arms, planting his feet wider. “Okay, well, what are you doing here, then?”

She falters then — by the barest, slightest bit, but he spots it instantly.

“Waiting for friends,” she says, brushing back a stray lock of hair. It’s not exactly in her way, so he’s willing to bet that the movement is purely to distract from the hitch in her rhythm. “I’m just holding a spot in line, until—”

“We’re here! We’re here!”

Bellamy bites back a smile at the poorly disguised relief on her face.

“About time,” she snipes — a little lamely, Bellamy notes — as two boys bound up to her, arms laden down with various snacks and tidbits.

“Sorry,” the shorter one says breathlessly, looking genuinely apologetic. “Jasper wanted to stop to pick up snacks, and then things got a little out of hand in the chip aisle, and—”

“We got into a cool ranch dispute,” the lankier one pipes up, balancing three bags of peanuts in the crook of one elbow as he tries to stuff a comically large bag of popcorn into his jacket. “Monty wanted sour cream and onion, so—”

“We compromised,” Monty finishes, holding up another two large bags of chips. He casts an appraising look at the blonde’s snugly wrapped frame. “How much space do you think you have in that jacket?”

“Shit, I got space for days,” Miller cuts in before the blonde can answer, his eyes trained hungrily on the bags of chips. “Think you guys can share?”

“No way!” Jasper says indignantly, two of his peanut packets dangling precariously over the ridge of his arm. “We’re never gonna—”

“Deal,” Monty interrupts decisively, snatching the peanut bags out of Jasper’s grasp to shove them into Miller’s arms. “Here, get that zip open, we can hide it in—"

He breaks off abruptly, looking between Miller and Bellamy as if seeing them for the first time.

"Oh,” he says, brows lifted high. “Hello.” He turns to the blonde, nose wrinkled in confusion. “Friends of yours?”

“No,” she and Bellamy both say at the same time.

Their gazes meet on pure impulse, both of them looking away within a split second.

“I’m Bellamy,” he says, just to break the brief bout of awkward silence. He clears his throat, nudging Miller with an elbow. “This is Nathan, but you can call him Miller.”

“Monty,” Monty says readily, catching Bellamy by surprise when the shorter boy reaches out to grab his hand, pumping it up and down in a quick handshake. “This is Jasper. You can call him Jasper."

"Or ‘king of the mountain’,” Jasper says cheerily, a boyish smirk stretched across his face. “Whatever’s more convenient."

Everyone turns to look expectantly at the blonde.

She shrugs. "Clarke.” She juts her chin towards the entrance of the theatre. “Also, if you guys are going to hide your stash, you’d better do it quick. Line’s moving.”

“Oh, shit,” Monty mutters, grabbing at Miller’s arm like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Here, turn this way in case the ushers see—”

Bellamy tries to find something to do with his hands as Miller gets tugged over to Monty and Jasper’s side of the queue. In the process of Miller practically getting manhandled by their two new acquaintances, Clarke is forced to step forward so that she ends up switching places with him, taking up his place next to Bellamy as Monty and Jasper start stuffing Miller’s jacket with bags of peanuts.

He swallows, bouncing tensely on the balls of his feet.

“So,” he says abruptly, glancing sideways at her. “What happened two days ago?”

She blinks up at him in surprise. “What?”

“You said you’d never seen a Harry Potter movie up until two days ago,” he prompts, one brow raised. “What happened to, uh, break your streak?”

She opens her mouth, and closes it. Her features quickly arrange themselves into a nonchalant expression. “Oh. Well. Nothing. Just—”

“We were playing drinking games in our dorm,” Jasper interrupts midway through attempting to squeeze a small packet of gummies under Miller’s beanie. “And then we found out she’s never seen any of the Harry Potter’s, so—”

“We decided to fix that,” Monty finishes, face scrunched in concentration as he stuffs a large Toblerone bar into Miller’s back pocket. “We watched all five movies in a row.”

“Jesus,” Bellamy says, turning to look at her. “In a row? I’m guessing that means you didn’t hate it.”

Clarke gives another little shrug, more of a jerk than anything. “It was all right.”

“'All right’?” Monty echoes skeptically. “You said they were milestones of cinematic achievement. You said they were the most important films of our generation. You said—”

“Thank you, Monty,” she cuts in tightly, eyes narrowed in warning. “Your M&M’s are sagging through his belt loops.”

“I think I’m at maximum capacity,” Miller says, his voice a little strained.

“Well, well, well,” Bellamy says smugly, planting his hands on his hips as he looks down at her. “I’d definitely call that a glowing review. Not bad for a bunch of movies about a fictional magic school, wouldn’t you say?”

She rolls her eyes, but the smile that tugs at the corners of her lips is significantly bigger than the ones that came before it. “Silencio, asshole.”

As far as the whole soulmates thing goes, Bellamy figures, hey, maybe it’s not all bad.

Especially not when Clarke pops the question to him two years later, as they’re in line for the midnight release of Deathly Hallows — Part 2.

(Yeah, call them cheesy. At least they’re consistent.)

#hope you like it babe!!!!#bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #serendipia-s #cabeswaterblakes #mel celebrates 1.5k #my writing

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