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thepixelelf · 5 months

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ah! love - 3

genres: married life au, family au, fluff, a little... angst? but we know it ends up okay (best friends to lovers) relationship: husbands 95 line x reader (feat. baby doremi line) words: 2.0k warnings: none notes: joshua centric!! also they live somewhere where it gets cold sometimes. I know that Joshua's had a little less time in the a!l spotlight, so I hope this satisfies the shushus[?] out there! this is the first >1k bday fic I've written in a while idk what came over me lol

ah! love masterlist

Joshua saves the day...wait, the night?

Joshua loves his kids. More than anything, though that thought sometimes scares him if he thinks too hard about it. The point is, he loves his sticky little mischievous imps, no matter how many times they throw up in the middle of the night, or run around with food half-chewed in their mouths because they've yet to develop a fear of choking like he and the rest of his partners have, or the half a million other things they don't warn you about parenthood. He loves his sons, end of sentence. Period.

But that's not to say they were his idea. Like a lot of the current life he feels overwhelmingly lucky to live, none of this was his idea. He hadn't even dreamed of it -- even his sleeping consciousness couldn't have been so creative as to spin the love story that led to his present. He hadn't fathomed marrying you and his other two best friends.

The marriage was Seungcheol's idea. But apparently you and Jeonghan were already thinking about it, too.

Joshua had been entirely caught off guard.

He was thinking too rigidly, he realized. Their marriage isn't legally recognized in any sense, and it was for that reason that he'd never even considered it in the first place... but it's still his marriage, whether penned and signed or not. There are three rings on his finger to prove it.

The kids were Jeonghan's idea. Well. The kid was sort of his, Seungcheol's and your idea. Jeonghan had said he'd always dreamed of having two kids -- a boy and a girl, like him and his little sister. You'd had your own fears about children, as did Seungcheol. You were scared you wouldn't know how to parent, wouldn't be able to raise a child in the way they deserved. Seungcheol worried how a child raised in their unconventional family would be treated by their peers. They'd all chosen the life they would live together, society's judging eyes be damned, but the child wouldn't have a choice, least of all an informed one.

Over the breakfast that was long forgotten after Jeonghan made his casual suggestion and vulnerable confession, you and Seungcheol eventually needled him down to one kid. Maybe.

As for Joshua, he didn't say a word. He was too lost in his own head, imagining a swaddled baby in your arms, and you in his. A shimmering mirage of his lips pressed upon your forehead, before he bent slightly to kiss the baby's tiny hands.

One kid may have been Jeonghan's, Seungcheol's, and your idea, but with Joshua, and circumstances as they were, you came home with three.

So perhaps some of this was his idea.

Not this, though.

"Papa...?"

Joshua blinks himself awake. His room is mostly dark, but warm light filters in from the hallway. The culprit? A little boy with one hand on the doorknob and the other wiping the corner of his bleary eye. Joshua can't tell who it is by looks alone, since the boy is all but a silhouette in the doorway, but he knows from the sound of his voice that it's Vernon.

Slowly, he removes his arm from around your waist. It's unlucky, maybe, that tonight you chose to sleep in Joshua's room, and then Vernon decided this was the place to be, too. He scoots away from you, then tries to lightly step across the room to kneel in front of Vernon. "Hey, bud," he whispers, trying desperately not to wake you up after a long day. "Can't sleep?"

"Bad dream," Vernon mutters.

⭒-⭒-⭒

"Bad dream?" Joshua sat up from the couch he was sleeping on just a minute ago, and he watched you whip around like a kid with their hand caught in the cookie jar.

But you only had a glass of water in your hand, and you winced as you turned off the tap. "Sorry. I was trying not to wake you."

"You didn't." Not really, anyway. The couch wasn't exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep on in the first place, which was why he offered you his room to sleep in while you needed a place to stay for the night. Actually, both Jeonghan and Seungcheol had offered their beds too, and it became a bit of a squabble, but you'd settled things by just picking the room offered to you first.

"Liar," you said, and even though the only light in the room came from the moon through the balcony windows, he could hear the smile the word came through. Still, there was a certain tiredness in your voice.

"Seriously. What's wrong?"

A sigh left you.

"Come, sit," he insisted. "Talk to me. You know I'll annoy it out of you eventually."

Another sigh came from you, but this one of reluctant, amused acceptance. You walked across the combined kitchen slash living space in in their three-room apartment, set your water on the coffee table, and sat on the other end of the couch from him. Too far for his liking.

"What's your mood like tonight?" you asked him as you relaxed into the cushions, your head resting so that you stared at the ceiling.

"On what scale?"

"Hm... holiday rom coms?"

He thought hard for a second. "The Princess Switch 2: Switched Again."

You snorted, rubbing your hands over your face. "Not good then?"

"Well, you did have to abandon your apartment because the heat turned off and your dumb landlord is completely MIA." He shifted his body to face you, one arm propped up on the back of the couch to lean his head on. "But you showed up here wearing a comedic amount of layers, so the day had its funny moments."

A laugh bubbled from your throat, and Joshua found himself smiling in the dark. "I guess you're right. How's your mood in terms of..." You let your head flop to the side to look at him. "...a hug?"

He had to wonder sometimes if you had absolutely no idea what he would do for you if you asked. A hug wouldn't be on that list-- it was so easy that it didn't even constitute consideration.

But his heart warmed, because even though he knew he'd never refuse to give you something so simple as a hug, you knew he wasn't constantly the physical affection kind of guy. You wanted to ask him. You wanted his comfort, but only if he was willing.

God, was he willing.

"All yours." He opened up his arms, and you all but sank into him.

You both stayed like that for a while, silent, but warm. He was satisfied with you in his arms, but he could tell your mind was still stewing.

"You gonna tell me what's got you up so late?" he muttered, rubbing his thumbs back and forth on your sides.

"Do you ever think about the future, Joshua?"

Sometimes. But it was always with you in it. "Not really."

Leaning back, he brought you to lie almost on top of him, so now he was the one staring at the ceiling.

You sighed. "I try not to... at least not too much. But sometimes, on nights like these, I'm scared that I..."

He waited for you to continue, but when you didn't, he gently patted your back. "That you what?"

"That I want too much."

Joshua breathed in. Held that air for a few more seconds than necessary. Breathed out. He wondered if it would always be like this-- you being brave enough to speak aloud the fears he kept locked up.

"Don't be scared," he whispered, because what else could he say?

Me too?

No. He couldn't know if you meant it in the same way he felt, and it would be selfish to let his words and feelings out now, while his two other best friends were asleep mere meters away.

You chuckled, as if to dispel any vulnerability you'd revealed. "Easy for you to say."

You had no idea.

"I'll protect you."

"Ah, right. Did you read my mind? We'll have to sleep out here tonight."

Not yet catching up to your joke, Joshua loosened his arms around you and furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

You lifted your head, a cheeky, bitable smile on your lips. Your voice lowered to a conspiratorial hush. "There's a monster under your bed."

⭒-⭒-⭒

Joshua ends up in the kitchen downstairs, all three boys sitting on the counter since Papa Seungcheol isn't there to discourage it. He tried to help Vernon right back into bed, he swears, but as soon as Seungkwan roused from his sleep and asked Vernon what was wrong, a conspiracy of monsters under each of their beds spiralled out of control. Even Chan got dragged in, heavy sleeper that he is.

Now, Joshua's showing them his ultra-secret monster repellent recipe. He melts an ice cube on a warm pan like a slab of butter, then pours warm water over it. Hiding more ice in his hands, he pretends to pull it from the pantry and adds that to the "mixture" too.

The boys watch, entranced and more than a little tired, as Joshua carefully pours the pan's contents into a measuring cup filled with yet more ice. He then pours that into a spray bottle they use to water the plants and screws the lid on. "There," he says proudly, presenting the bottle in front of the boys like it's a fine wine.

"What's going on down here?" your soft voice comes from the bottom of the stairway.

Joshua winces. "I was hoping I wouldn't wake you."

"It's alright," you say, though he can tell you're still fatigued. You walk over to the kitchen and pet the first boy's head that you reach, Chan's. "What are you all doing up?"

While Vernon makes grabby hands for you to run your fingers through his hair as well, Seungkwan answers. "Papa Shua's making monster-go-away juice."

"Monster-go-away juice?" you echo, then turn to Joshua with feigned shock and a quiet gasp. "Not your secret recipe?"

Joshua smiles. You're always so quick to match his humour. "I know." He throws the boys a look before meeting your eyes with full, teasing seriousness. "But I think they're ready."

Your eyes glimmer with laughter, but you hold yourself back for the sake of the bit. Turning to your sons, you wag your finger. "This is powerful stuff, boys. You have to use it carefully."

Chan's eyes are wide, sparkling with awe as he takes in your every word. Seungkwan and Vernon are equally rapt. Joshua's going to have to explain all this to the more straightforward husbands tomorrow, but tonight? Seeing the adorable looks on his sons faces and the playful tilt of yours is totally worth it.

"But don't worry," he chimes in. "It only works on monsters. It's harmless to humans. See?"

In a flash, he points the bottle at you and pulls the trigger, spraying a thin mist of water-water right in your face. You flinch in surprise, affronted, but only Joshua can tell. You laugh, then look at the boys again. "See? Nothing." You snatch the spray bottle from him. "It doesn't do anything to papa Joshua, either."

Okay, he thinks as you spray him not once, but three times, he deserves that.

"Now, papa Joshua and I are going to take care of any monsters, and then we're all gonna go to sleep, okay?"

The boys nod, and Vernon yawns, then motions for you to pick him up. You send a look Joshua's way, and he sends one right back. He gathers both Seungkwan and Chan in his arms, but before you start the trek up the stairs, he stops you. Each of the sons in his arms get a kiss to the top of their head, and then he leans over and presses one to your temple. Lastly, he bends down and, while Vernon has raised his arm to once again rub his eyes, Joshua kisses his tiny little hand. Just like he imagined over breakfast not so long ago.

No, waking up in the middle of the night to save his sons from imaginary monsters was never his idea. Neither was this life, or this family.

But Joshua wouldn't have to any other way.

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meanbossart · 2 months

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Lore Ask Compilation: "Every Other Question Is About The Drow's Dick" edition

Oh I LOVE Minthara, her dialogue is absolutely fascinating and in my opinion some of the best written In the game. Experiencing her in my Evil Durge playthrough without having been spoiled to her companion scenes prior was great - the amount of depth they managed to add to her, without it at all feeling forced or rushed, and considering how much less time she gets to develop at our side is really well done. While nearly everyone's quests had me immersed, she was one of the few characters who really made me pause and think about the things she had to say to me, what she truly meant by them, and what they meant for me as an avatar doing an evil run.

We have a lot of characters in this game that are meant to be full of wisdom and experience, who are meant to be the ones who say the right thing at the right time that inspires us to make the correct choices, but I don't think either Halsin or Jaheira (and I love Jaheira) made me feel like I knew so little about life quite as Minthara did.

And, of course, she's absolutely hysterical. 10/10 I wish she had a proper companion quest past being rescued but I understand why she doesn't.

[MORE ASKS UNDER THE CUT]

It doesn't connect to the urethra since the slit in on top, so he nuts and pisses normal.

Also you 100% are not sorry, stop lying to me.

Man, I thought a lot about this one because I play so fast and loose with the content the game gives us that I'm positive there must be SOMETHING I'm completely disregarding, but I couldn't think of anything! I've chosen to pick slightly less obvious interpretations to some lines and text but nothing that completely deviates from canon, I don't think. If anyone has noticed something I neglected to mention, feel free to let me know - not because I want to revise it, but just because I'm curious!

For the second part of the question, not really. Larian did a great job of giving us plenty of room to play around in the dark urge's background, I think I'm yet to see something that I find to truly "not fit" in the ample freedom they've given us. I have my preferences, of course - I'm shocked to find that most dark urge's are NOT big hulking beasts, for example - in fact that seems to be the minority by far, but I realize that I have my... Uh... Biases.

You can see a cute little divot through the fabric if you look closely LOL

And nah, I think his penis has seen enough sharp points for a lifetime.

Well.

Unless someone decided to add some bite-marks to it.

HMMM, I... Don't think so.

He didn't cry as a baby, he didn't cry as a child (and this isn't something I just decided on now - this is a major reason why his foster drow mother even kept him around) he didn't really cry growing up or at any point during the campaign. I think he is capable of it - sadness in him just tends to be far more confusing a feeling than anything else.

He will have emotional moments in ANE, whether or not that will culminate in crying is something you will have to wait to find out LOL

Astarion has noticed this and just took it as a character trait - the drow doesn't cry, he just gets confused, angry, frustrated or simply bottles it up. While he can be demanding of his emotional maturity, he isn't going to try and dictate how he should experience his own feelings. If it did happen it would definitely catch him majorly off-guard, perhaps even shift the perception he has of him to a certain extent.

Oh my god you just know they All managed to be utterly quiet about it for as long as humanly (and unhumanly) possible until like, I don't even know, halfway through the Shadow-cursed lands where one day Karlach finally turns back to the group around the campfire after a half-nude drow has strut past and she's like "SO

"DOES ANYONE KNOWS WHY HIS DICK HAS A SNATCH"

And Wyll is like :0... Karlach you can't just ask people that.

And then she pointedly turns to Astarion and starts trying to interrogate him on how it works while Gale covers his ears and Shadowheart is like:

This is gonna blow you guys backwards but he does not do those things in front of people and thinks its rude if you do.

HMMM Mostly physically but it's a little subtle. He really enjoys interacting with Astarion's (and previously Orin's) hands - kissing, holding, caressing. Touching hair and faces as well. He can engage in more overt physical affection but usually Astarion has to be the one to initiate.

A disarmingly earnest proclamation of love and adoration here and there as well - he isn't shy in the slightest to tell people how he feels about them, he just isn't constantly reminding them of it unless inspiration strikes.

Most of all I think he expects his loved-ones to see his care for them in his tendency to go out of his way to help them achieve their goals.

He went with them to the Shadow-cursed lands but I never helped him fix the curse, so he stayed behind when the gang went onwards to the city. DU Drow didn't really like him so it was good-riddance as far as he was concerned.

If he had come along and propositioned him during act 3 - uh, you know the really mean rejection line you have as a choice during that dialogue? Yeah, that one lmao.

Alas, DU drow is just monogamous. He could entertain group-sex with a partner for fun at the most, but not ever a third person in the relationship. And In my personal interpretation (but by all means - everyone else have fun with their poly arrangements!) of Astarion and his delivery of the "this is about Halsin" line, I also thought he was lying about being comfortable with it, so I write him as monogamous as well.

Nothing. Nada. Not a thing. Say what you'd like about Bhaal but he sure knows how sculpt them out of his murder-meat.

(Thank you!!!)

#ask compilation #DU drow lore #bg3 spoilers

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winterrrnight · 11 months

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secret admirer (reader's pov)

PAIRING: high schooler!soft!rafe cameron x high schooler!fem!reader

SUMMARY: the reader has a secret admirer who drops letters, flowers and some other little souvenirs in their locker.

WARNINGS: a lot of cliches, falling down and getting wounded, and some fluffy fluff :) if I missed something let me know! Please ignore any grammatical/spelling errors

EDITH SPEAKS: buckle up bffs because this is long!! Please note the following before you read:

both reader and Rafe are well versed in French.

The French translations are given side by side in the oneshot.

I don't speak French so everything has been gathered from the internet. If there are any mistakes, please let me know.

I'm not American so I've had a very different high school experience: I never had detentions in our school. So everything has been written based upon what I've seen in American shows :)

And that's it! I hope you enjoy reading, please like and/or reblog to show your love <3 feedback is highly appreciated! 💐

UPDATE: I have made a whole secret admirer universe! The link of its masterlist is given below <3

navigation || join my taglist || requests || series masterlist

As the class comes to an end, you walk out and go to your locker. You dial in your locker combination, and just as you open it, an envelope falls out and drops in the ground.

Confused, you bend down and pick it up. The envelope is plain white, and its flap is glued at place. You pull open on the flap, and find a folded piece of letter inside.

"Oooooo what's that?" Your friend says, smiling. "Looks like a love letter."

You shake your head. "I doubt it's a love letter," you say as you unfold your paper. A single sentence in cursive writing is scrawled on the paper. It takes you a second to realise it's written in French.

Je rêve de toi.

It translates to "I dream of you".

Who can write this to you? Thoughts clink around your mind like ice in a glass of water. Suddenly, you feel something drop out of the envelope. You look down at the floor, curious.

It's a little daisy.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

Since then, a little gift always awaits for you in your locker every few days. Every time it's a letter with a simple sentence in French written on it in fountain pen. It's accompanied with a little flower, or a small piece of chocolate, and one time, it was a bracelet.

You've tried your best to figure out who's been sending you these. No one in class has flirted with you, so you don't even have any options to consider. The thought that someone secretly likes you does make your heart swoon, but at the same time it also concerns you. What if it's someone pulling jokes on you, just playing with your delicate heartstrings? You really hope it isn't the second one, because if it is, it will leave you heartbroken in a way you've never been heartbroken.

But you can't deny the smile the letters bring on your face. You collect the flowers and press them in between the pages of your journal. Every chocolate you've received so far is the kind you like, which makes you wonder how does this person know what kind of chocolates you are into. And the bracelet, well, it's tied securely around your wrist.

You reach school, and with hope in your heart filled to the brim, you open your locker. The smile on your face is as bright as the stars when you see an envelope.

Before you can open it, the ringing of the bell makes you look up. The first class has started and you're still in the hallway.

"Shit," you curse, as you hurriedly throw the envelope in your bag and rush to your English class. The scene in the class will not be pretty: your teacher isn't fond of late comers. Well, saying he isn't fond of them is an understatement. He hates their guts.

With your heart beating faster than the speed of light, you look through the small gap in the door of the class. Your teacher is extremely punctual, and as always, the class has started. He's walking around the class, handing your previous tests. You take in a deep breathe and open the door. The sound of the door opening makes everyone look up at you.

"Well, well, well, look who decided to show up," your teacher says, passive aggressiveness laced in his voice.

"I'm, I'm sorry, it won't happen again-"

"Oh looks like we have another late comer," your teacher says, cutting you off. Confused, you turn around to see Rafe Cameron standing behind you. His uniform shirt isn't buttoned properly; random buttons connected to the wrong holes, his belt is missing, and his hair is messed up. He looks like he just woke up.

You feel your cheeks heat up from the warmth of his body. He's standing right behind you, and if you walk a millimetre back, you would crash right into him.

"I'm so sorry, I swear I set an alarm but it didn't ring and-" Rafe starts to ramble.

"DETENTION! Both of you!" Your teacher yells. You flinch at his sudden loud voice. He signs two detention slips and hands those to the both of you. He dismisses you swiftly by closing the door on your faces.

You look down at the detention slip in your hand and sigh. You look up at Rafe to see he's looking at you. You break your small eye contact with him and look at your shoes.

"Shall we go?" He asks you. You nod at him, still not looking at him. In silence, you both walk to the detention room. It's just a classroom which isn't in use anymore. Your PE teacher is the one who will be supervising you. When you reach the classroom, you're surprised to see it's only you and Rafe in the detention. Usually it's around 5 - 10 students at this time in detention.

The teacher is inside, his nose buried in a magazine. He doesn't lift his head up when you and Rafe and walk in, and take adjacent seats. Only when you both sit down, the teacher lifts an eye to see you both.

"Just two of you?" He says, and you nod. "Well that's going to be a waste of my time." He closes his magazine, drops it on the table and stands up from his chair.

"I'll be here in an hour to let you both out. Don't do anything dumb, you're being watched." He says, leaving the classroom and closing the door behind him.

It gets extremely silent in the room, it's so silent that you can hear a pin drop. Your breathing is the only sound filled in the room, along with the constant ticking of the clock hanging on a wall.

You can't believe you're in a class room all alone with Rafe Cameron. It's pretty much given away that he's the most popular guy in your school, and not because he's the jock and only sleeps around with everyone, but because he's an actual sweetheart. He's nice to everyone, and has the most beautiful personality. One thing you know for sure is that if someone gets to date him, he will treat them like a royal.

You decide to finish up with some school work you're left with. As you open your bag, you notice the envelope you had completely forgotten about. Eagerly, you pull it out and open it. Today, there's no souvenir in it. Only a folded piece of paper.

You unfold it, and instead of the usual one line, there are multiple. You read them slowly, as you also translate them in your mind.

Votre âme est un paysage choisi

Que vont charmant masques et bergamasques

Jouant du luth et dansant et quasi

Tristes sous leurs déguisements fantasques

It takes you some fair amount of time to translate the verse. This is what you come up with:

Your soul is a moonlit landscape fair,

Peopled with maskers delicate and dim,

That play on lutes and dance and have an air

Of being sad in their fantastic trim

It suddenly clicks you: the verse if from Claire de Lune. You smile at the French written on the paper, and just read it over and over again in your head.

"What's that?" You suddenly remember that Rafe is right next to you.

"Nothing," you say, folding the paper and putting it back in it's envelope.

"Looks like a love letter, someone's been writing you love letters?" He asks, curiosity in his eyes. You take a few seconds to give him a reply.

"Maybe?"

"What do you mean, maybe?"

You sigh. "I've been receiving these letters which have poetry in French written in them. They usually come along with a little gift, like a small flower or some chocolate. But, there's no name on the paper whatsoever, so I have no way of knowing who is it, if it's legit or if someone is playing a prank on me."

"I don't think it's a prank, you know." You look up at him. He's gazing at you intently.

"You don't?"

He shakes his head. "Someone maybe likes you a lot, and is, i don't know, scared to admit it to you."

"But, why do you think it's not a prank? And how are you so sure it is an actual love letter?"

"Why is it so hard for you to believe that it can be an actual love letter? That someone actually likes you a lot? You're an amazing person, don't decline the thought of someone being your admirer so easily."

At these words leaving Rafe's mouth, you have a small hunch that maybe he's the one writing these letters.

Oh no, he can't be the one. You shake the thought out of your head. He's the most popular guy in the whole school, he can choose anyone, why in hell would he choose you? What does he see in you?

You've never been the one to be in the spotlight, you've always lurked in the shadows. So, when the letters started coming, you did want to believe that you have an admirer. That you are worth of being loved by someone deeply. But you find this thought too good to be true, so you instead believe it's just a prank.

You aren't sure how to respond to Rafe's words. All that slips your lips is a small thank you. You direct your focus back to your schoolwork on hand.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

It's been a week to the detention. Since then, instead of every other day, the letters have been appearing every single day. This morning, you had a bigger envelope than usual. The size of the letter inside is the same, but there are more gifts than usual. Instead of the usual single flower, you have a daisy chain. There are many chocolates instead of one, and there are two new bracelets.

At this point, you are starting to get a lot more concerned than before. Someone's out there spending money on getting you chocolates and bracelets, and you don't even know how to thank them for it; you can only do that if you know who the person sending you these gifts is.

You keep the little gifts in your locker and take the letter. As usual, there is one line scrawled on the centre of the page, the cursive handwriting perfect as it is each time.

Je vous souhaite d'être follement aimée.

"My wish is that you may be loved to the point of madness." You whisper. You softly trace the words on the paper with your fingertip.

"Who are you?"

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

The sky has suffused into hues of pinks and oranges, and you get on your bike. You're on your way to your favorite place: the strawberry field. You found that field when you were cycling around the area at the mere age of 6. Since then, you absolutely love going to that place at all times. The heavenly scent of strawberries will be settled all around the field, especially due to them being in season.

You reach the field in a few minutes. You take your bike to the small trail in the field, which is accompanied by perfectly manicured bushes of strawberries around it. Following the trail leads to a massive opening right in the middle of the field, which has a big tree planted in it. You love to pluck the strawberries and then sit under the shade of the tree as you eat them and watch the sunset.

Just as you reach the tree, you notice something unusual. There is a notepad, along with a bottle of ink and a fountain pen. You look around to see if you can spot the owner of the stuff. A sudden rustle in the bushes a little farther on your right increases the rate of your heartbeat. The sound of the rustling increases with each passing second, and suddenly, a head pops out.

Your eyes widen at the sight. "Rafe?" You ask, completely dumbfounded. Rafe is holding a basket full of the ripe strawberries. He's wearing a button up paired with a simple pair of trousers. The sleeves of the button up are rolled up to his elbows and you notice sweat shining on his forehead and his neck.

"Oh, hey," he says, completely frozen in the spot. None of you are able to comprehend the current situation at hand.

"I didn't expect to see you here, what are you doing here?" You question.

"Nothing, just... just getting some of these strawberries. I've heard they're really good," he says, coming out of the bushes. He walks up to you, and stands right in front of you, not leaving much distance between you two.

"How did you... how did you find out about this place? I come here almost every single day and I never see you here. Why suddenly today?"

You need to know why he's here. You need to know why does he have that notepad and a fountain pen. The hunch you had the other day, the one which you dug deep in your heart because you just believed it isn't true, is starting to come back up.

Rafe is just standing there, looking at you. He doesn't have anything to say. While you're waiting impatiently for him to tell you everything. You don't want to believe your gut feeling unless you have a concrete proof of it.

"Why do you have that notepad with you, with that fountain pen?" You swallow the lump in your throat.

"For you. It's all for you. It's all always been for you." He whispers. You feel like you're frozen right at your position. "These," he says, pointing to the strawberry basket, "these are for you too."

"But... why me?" You mumble. Your mind doesn't want to believe this. No, this can't be true. The person who everyone will fall on their knees for can choose anyone, but instead he chose you.

"Because," he walks closer to you, places a finger under your chin and gently pushes it up so you can look him right in his eyes, "I want you to know how special you are. You deserve nothing but love, and this is just me showing you that." His hand is now on your cheek, and you find yourself feeling comfortable in the warmth of his hand.

"But-"

"No buts. I told you this before too, why are you not willing to believe that you are so worthy of being loved and appreciated? That there is someone who's ready to do this all for you. I could've just come up to you and confessed how I have fallen for you, but that wouldn't be special now, would it? That's what everyone does. And then my purpose of showing you that I'm not like everyone else and how I will shower you with love every single second of my life is defeated. I will bring you the moon, all you have to do is just ask." Rafe says, his voice nothing but a whisper.

But this isn't enough for you. You need to know what he sees in you. You need explanations on why he's doing so much just to see you happy.

"Why me?" It slips out of your mouth, because your mind won't relax unless you hear it all from Rafe's mouth.

"Do you remember kindergarten?"

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

Rafe runs to the swings, a big smile on his face as he finally gets to use it. The swings are never empty, but now he has the chance of getting to take a ride on them.

But, just as he sits down on the swing, a group of boys approaches him. They are all a year older than him, and they love to pretend they own the place.

"Hey! Give us the swing!" The head of the group, Greg demands. Rafe starts to feel scared, but he doesn't show it on his face.

"No!" He says firmly, his grip tightening on the swing. With just a small nudge of his head, Greg motions the boys of the group towards Rafe. They grab onto his shoulders and forcefully throw him off the swing. Rafe screams and feels tears stream down his eyes in pain. But, no teacher is around to help him. Greg laughs in his face and goes to his new found victory: the swing.

You see it all unfold from the side. You are sitting in the grass all alone. That's where you are every single day, because you don't mix in well with the other kids. When you see Rafe hurt, you rush up to him.

He's still crying when you reach to him. You do nothing, all you do is offer him your hand. Rafe suddenly stops crying and grabs ahold of your hand and with all the strength in your little body, you pull him up. You take him to the teacher.

The teacher gasps at Rafe's condition: teary eyes with dust all over his face and clothes, and two wounds each on his knees. You stand on the side as the teacher gets the first aid kit and starts to treat his wounds. You can't look when Rafe whines at the burning feeling of the antiseptic liquid against his knees. At that moment, all you wanted was to swap places with him so he doesn't have to go through this all.

Once his wounds were all covered in bandaids, you take him to your table in the classroom. From your bag, you pull out your favorite lolipop and hand it to him. Rafe looks at you and the lolipop with wide eyes.

"You are so brave," you say, as you nudge the candy closer to him.

"Thank you," Rafe says, accepting the lolipop from you.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

"From that day, I've never stopped looking at you. As we grew older, I knew you were the one I wanted to be with, and I wanted to reciprocate all that you've done for me. It's not just the lolipop, throughout all the years you've been there for me when no one else was, I just don't want you to think that your efforts go unappreciated." Rafe finishes.

You remember it all really well. All the times in kindergarten when you gave him your food because he dropped his on the ground, when you cut his craft paper for him because he just wasn't able to cut in a straight line the way you can, or when you gave him a pencil each time he forgot one at home.

"Rafe..." You say, starting to feel little tears blur your vision. Before you can hide them from him, Rafe is quick to reach his hands out to your cheeks and to wipe them off.

"This is nothing compared to what you've done for me, those chocolates, little verses of poetry, bracelets," his eyes goes to the bracelet you're wearing, "they don't amount to the things you've done for me in any way. But I just want to show you how amazing you are, and how you deserve the nicest things in the world."

You don't want to hear anything else. You press your lips against his. It takes a second for Rafe to process what's happening. Your arms are quick to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your lips move against his.

You pull back softly and lean your forehead against his.

"Je t'aime. Aujourd'hui. Ce soir. Demain. Pour toujours. Su je vivais mille ans, he t'appartiendrais pour tous. Si je vivais mille vies, je te ferais mienne dans chaacune d'elles." He whispers, his eyes closed.

"I love you. Today. Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever. If I were to live a thousand years, I would belong to you for all of them. If I were to live a thousand lives, I would want to make you mine in each one."

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @ragingsammie @maybankslover

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soapisahimbo · 1 year

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Their S/O Already Has A Kid - 141 (+Alejandro & König) Edition

Anonymous asked: Your work is god tier, absolutely slaying rn. I'm not sure if you're taking requests but if you are... hear me out- can I please get the mw2 boys with an s/o who already has a kid? How would they interact with the kid?

So I wasn't entirely sure on what angle to approach this from, but I've written this as if reader has been a single parent who has worked with 141 for a while (not necessarily a soldier), the other parent isn't really in the picture and the kid is somewhere around 4-5 years old. I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind, but I sincerely hope you enjoy!

warnings: none! couldn't find a good gif to use though :(

John 'Soap' MacTavish:

From the second he finds out you have a child, way before there's even any suggestion that you will one day be a couple, he's on a mission to become The World's Best Uncle. It's like he's participating in a competition that no one else signed up for - he wants to be your kid's absolute favourite and he'll be damned if anyone else tries it. Will frequently ask you about the kid; "how're they doin' in school?", "do they have friends to play with?", "what do they want for Christmas?", "are they growin' well?", and even checks up with you to see if they need new clothes or anything. He will always have something for them for their birthday or Christmas and will happily say to you, "this is from Uncle Soap, all right? Take pictures when they open it, I wanna see how they like it!"

He has a natural desire to look after the people around him, and since he considers you a close and fast friend, he'll want nothing more than to help you out if he can. The closer you grow, the more he gets the urge to prove himself worthy - to prove that he'll be good to you and that you can trust him - and it's a sentiment he keeps long after you get together. You and your child become like a family to him, and it's a family he's keen on keeping.

The two of them will be like two peas in a pod. He'll play around with them near constantly, tell them stories from his job (adjusted to be more child-friendly) and teach them how to play football. He asks them about school, helps them with homework and he will happily treat the kid as his own. You're the love of his life and this child is his best little friend. He loves you both dearly and it fills him with immense happiness to have you two to come back home to once you live together. If he's available for it, he'll go with you guys to events and theme parks, and hopefully longer vacation trips. He doesn't ever expect them to call him "dad" (although if it were to happen, it would probably have him sobbing uncontrollably), he's just happy to be with you, and to be The World's Best Uncle Soap.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

It's worth mentioning that he'll be hesitant to get any closer to you than necessary at first, not because of any sort of disdain towards you or towards kids, but because of who he is. Simon has been through some terrible shit, and his work consists of doing even more terrible shit, and so he thinks that being any sort of role model to a child is way out of his range.

This doesn't mean he doesn't care, though. When you first get to know him, he seems cold and aloof and he doesn't seem to show any particular interest in you. What with you being on his team though, and him knowing that you're a single parent, he might approach you with the intent of at least showing some sort of support, whatever support he might be capable of showing.

He'll get something for the kid, like a stuffed animal or some sort of toy, but he doesn't hand it to you personally; he'll leave it somewhere where he knows you'll find it, like on your desk if you have one, and pretend like nothing happened.

He wants to keep his distance, but he can't deny the strange urge to look after you. It starts slow. He never asks, but he'll listen when you tell him about your child; how they've been doing lately, what you've done during the weekend, something funny they did or said. At first you might think he's ignoring you, but then one day he hands you a little trinket and tells you it's "for the little one, figured they might like it."

Growing closer and realizing that he has feelings for you is a complicated ordeal for him and he tries to keep it locked away deep down, but he's unable to stop himself for some reason. Once together, he cares greatly about you and your child, even if he might not always know how to show it.

He makes an unspoken promise to never let anything harm either of you, and so he keeps you under the radar as best he can. His team might know that you're together, but that's as far as they're informed. You won't hear much from him while he's out on missions, and he rarely mentions you or your kid to anyone, keeping any information about you sealed up tightly in the back of his mind, and if anyone asks he'll only give short-clipped answers, if he even bothers to answer in the first place. It's all to keep you safe.

With you, though, he's much more loving and gentle than others would even guess he's capable of. If you live together, he'll pick your kid up in his arms when he gets home and plant a gentle and loving kiss on your lips in greeting. Never raises his voice at anything if one or both of you are near, even if he's aggravated or annoyed. He plays ever so gently with your kid, even if they're play-wrestling and he's tossing them around because he's incredibly aware of his strength, and he sits patiently and quietly while they doodle on his arms or even his face and tells them bad (child-friendly) puns to get them to laugh. You and the kid are practically the only ones that get to see him smile.

His own childhood was incredibly traumatizing, and he tries his damnedest to make sure that that doesn't bleed over onto you or the kid, even if it means that he has to step away for a while. He's working on it, you might just need to give him some time. If this is as serious as he thinks it is, he wants to be the absolute best that he can be for you.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

He is oh, so gentle with your child. He's the dude that calmly and casually follows your kid around to make sure that they don't get in trouble while they explore. He's done it since the first time they met, and he still does it now, only interfering when they're headed somewhere they shouldn't be, or when they turn to him to play or talk. The type to offer to take care of them so that you can rest or focus on other things, and tells you "it's no skin off my nose" when you tell him that he really doesn't need to. He lets the kid approach him rather than try to get them to interact with him, and it's because of this exact mindset that kids usually love him. If they want to hug him, he'll happily wrap them up in a big and warm hug, but he's not going to convince them to because kids deserve their own bodily autonomy just as much as any adult.

He's one of those people who just magically makes kids fall asleep even when they're in that "I am dead tired but I refuse to sleep for some ungodly reason so I'm just gonna scream and cry at everything"-state, and it baffles you every time, but you're certainly not complaining. He has this air about him that is just very calming, and he makes both you and your kid feel immensely safe just by his presence alone. He starts out as just a close and caring friend, and the transition to more than just friends to an actual couple is a smooth one; one day you just kiss and you're not even surprised. It feels natural to have him around and when you see him interact with your child, it's like he's supposed to be there. You can't imagine anyone else, as if whatever empty space was there had been Gaz-shaped all along.

Gets your kid to laugh delightfully without even trying, wipes their tears gently and kisses their cheeks when they've scraped their knees or bumped their head, listens intently when they talk, even if they're just speaking nonsense ("but of course, all superheroes are from Norway."*) and will absolutely not laugh when they call Soap a dumb stinky poopyface.

Despite his calm demeanour though, Gaz is still a soldier, and very well-trained one at that. Should anyone approach you or your kid with the intent to harm you or threaten you, rest assured that he will not just let that slip by. He would give his life to protect both of you without even a hint of hesitation.

*based on an actual conversation I had with one of my nephews

Alejandro Vargas:

He doesn't care what anyone says, doesn't care what anyone thinks, doesn't care about what the kid looks like or how old they are, he is Dad™ now. Will wholeheartedly claim your child as his own and fight anyone who questions it. What the hell do you mean they look nothing alike, that's his fucking kid, are you blind?

He's so eager and willing to help, even long before you start dating. Takes any chance he gets to invite you and your child over, be it for food, for movie nights, to go to the park, or simply to talk. Before you know it, he has clothes and toothbrushes dedicated to both of you at his place, reminding you again and again that his door is always open for you; no need to even knock.

Let's be real, as generous and charming as he is, it's his sincerity that has you falling for him. He offers to take care of the kid while you rest, or to come over to clean up your home (Rodolfo might join as well, partly because of his goodhearted nature, partly because Alejandro roped him into it), and he looks you deep in the eyes when he tells you that his family is your family, be it Los Vaqueros or his own blood relatives. It's how he confesses to you as well, telling you that even if you don't reciprocate, he'll still be there for you.

If you didn't know any better, you yourself would start to question whether or not Alejandro is somehow the actual father. It's like they have some sort of telepathic connection, almost. The only one who knows that kid's moods and mannerisms and habits better than him, is you. He works with you like a team to make sure that you're always on the same page and make sure that you know that he only ever wants the best for you and the kid. Teaches them Spanish if it's not already their native language, and if they happen to pick up a curse-word from somewhere, he'll be horrified (kid said "puta" once and you thought he'd have a heart attack).

Much like Ghost, he'll keep you under the radar to keep you safe. Sends letters and gifts in secret when he's deployed, and now has a stronger determination than ever to stay alive. He doesn't ever want to imagine that one day might be the last he'll ever see you, so he'll walk through hell and high water to make sure he will return to you.

König:

He doesn't really know how to handle kids, but he sure does try. He is huge compared to this tiny little human - his calf alone is almost the same size as the entire child - so he tries to shrink himself down as much as he can. They might be a bit intimidated by him at first, but once that passes he is practically given the role of a human jungle gym. He stays alert, making sure that he's able to catch them should they fall off, and as awkward as he might feel, he would never let this little one come to harm. When you tell your kid to leave him be or be gentler with him, he quickly assures you that it's no problem and that he doesn't mind it at all; thinks it's quite fun actually. Before you know it, this tiny being less than a quarter of his size will be like his little sidekick, and it's honestly the funniest thing you've seen.

He's nervous around you though, not only because it's your child, but because over time the harmless little crush he's had on you grows stronger and stronger and stronger, and he's not sure how to handle it. When he tells the kid to be good to you, it's partly directed towards himself as well, as if he's telling himself to look after you. The idea of holding the child in one arm and you in the other fills him with such warmth that it almost catches him off guard. You're the one who tells him how you feel, and it kickstarts a full avalanche of stumbling words out him, because he's trying to find the right way to tell you that he feels the same and that he wants to be a part of your life.

He will be incredibly gentle with that child - he'll fuzz over the tiniest little bump or bruise or scrape, even if they're not bothered by it in the slightest. Picks them up very carefully while they can pull and tug and jump on him with all the strength their little body can muster without him ever budging - play-wrestling and tickle fights will be very carefully done because he would hate to accidentally hurt them. Loves teaching them German if they don't already speak it, and much like Alejandro, he will practically see his life flash by his eyes if they ever happen to learn a curseword from somewhere - especially if they accidentally picked it up from him.

Will keep any semblance of violence away from you and your child to as far of an extent as he can, but if anything happened to either one of you, he'd crush the skulls of everyone involved with his bare hands, that's for sure.

#cod x reader #cod mw2 fic #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #könig x reader #konig x reader

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naomihatake · 8 months

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In search of freedom (Ch. 2)

2. The wheel of death

Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa. This chapter follows the events of the second episode.

Warnings for this chapter: canon typical violence, kidnapping

Word count: 3,1k

Theme song: “Haunted Isles” by Derek Fiechter (click on the link)

A/N: I almost didn't believe I wrote so much considering the process felt so slow and kind of annoying. Not the best chapter I've written so far, not something I'm necessarily proud of, but I wanted to follow OPLA's plot. I know 3k words isn't much, but I already prepared pieces of the next chapters that I'm genuinely excited to share with you. Half of this part is filled with action, meanwhile, the next chapter will be full of psychological analysis and a lot of thoughts + more interactions between the reader and Zoro.

The reader will be referred to as "Witch" from now on, because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

I'm open for comments and opinions <3

The view made her smile as she looked at the dark blue nuance of the sea, her eyes sparkling just like the moon that was hidden by the gray clouds at that time. Her heart beat so peacefully, in sync with the waves of the water, and with every inhale she could feel that sensation taking over her senses. Everytime she got on a ship, the feeling grew stronger and stronger and she doubted there was a limit.

Freedom had no limit and she wondered if that's what it felt like.

"We're not a crew," Zoro and Nami — the woman with orange hair — said in unison.

Luffy was dead set on calling four people a crew, despite the fact that it was a decision he kind of made on his own.

Zoro's tall figure disappeared inside the cabin, where he intended to nap. She was intrigued; it was the same man who made a fool of those marines back at the tavern. The witch was confused about the soft clinck sounds coming from him, until she realized it was just his three golden earrings hitting one another at each move.

Luffy's last crewmate smiled, endeared by the unfaltering enthusiasm their supposed captain was radiating. He was like a ball of energy since they got on Nami's ship and sailed away with help from Koby.

"So, you're a witch," Luffy excitedly turned towards her.

"You could call me that, I think," she shrugged.

"Do you do magic? Like, potions in a cauldron and spells with candles—"

"I think you know too many stereotypes," she let out a long sigh.

Nami was on her knees in front of the safe box, ear glued to the locker as she rolled it between her fingers.

"So you won't chop us into pieces and boil us?" She arched her eyebrow, unintentionally feeding Luffy's crazy ideas.

"You—!"

"No, I don't."

She rubbed at the bridge of her nose with her thumb and pointer finger.

"What about you two talking after I finish unlocking this? I need silence."

The witch sat down, resting her body against a barrel as she watched Nami's careful actions. Now that she thinks about it, she never saw someone so sure of themselves while opening up this kind of locker, which meant it wasn't the first time she did it either. She presented herself as a thief.

Luffy was agitated, roaming around and stretching, a big smile on his lips. He was holding back from babbling until he forgot he had to keep his mouth shut.

"I almost can't believe I already have a crew and we got our hands on the Grand Line map."

"Luffy," the witch whispered so she wouldn't disturb Nami. "You do know none of us promised to take part in this adventure, right?"

She was trying her best to be gentle about the topic, especially since he seemed so happy he couldn't hold back at all. Luffy had no filter anymore, saying whatever came to mind, but she supposed he's always like that.

"Maybe you'll change your mind," he beamed.

"I appreciate your help a lot, kid, and I'll try my best to help you if I get the chance until we get to the next destination, but I don't know about that," she shook her head.

"You said the same thing at the tavern: that it's dangerous."

"And I still didn't change my mind. It is dangerous."

"Can you be silent?" Nami accentuated her words in annoyance.

"Sorry," the witch muttered.

The orange haired woman glued her ear to the lock again, eyes narrowed and brows pulled together in concentration. One strand of hair fell over her blue eyes but she didn't mind it while she continued opening the locker up.

A small click vibrated shyly through the air and Nami snapped up.

"It's open!" she shouted.

From inside the box, Nami took a long cylinder and opened it. The witch moved behind her and looked at the map of the Grand Line, inspecting it with the eye of someone who wasn't an expert at all. She was focusing on the navigator's explanations so intensely, she didn't notice when the other two approached. Zoro's swords brushed by her leg, moving her entire attention to him.

The sound of fireworks filled the air.

"The marines? When did they find us?" Nami furrowed her eyebrows.

"What's with the red smoke?" the witch found herself asking right after she started seeing in nuances.

"It smells weird," Luffy muttered.

She found out it was true only after she inhaled it and her vision was getting blurry. Everything happened so fast: Nami falling first, then Zoro saying something she couldn't hear. Her body got soft and in less than a few seconds, she fell unconscious after she caught a glimpse of a pirate ship.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The witch rubbed her wrists together, but her attempt to escape from the rope digging into her skin was futile. She was sitting in an open chest, her knees pulled close to her chest; both her legs and wrists were tied and she was growing tired of it.

They were kidnapped by some pirate clowns and thrown into what he called the Green Room. Luffy was still in the main tent, and what was happening to him was a secret between the clowns and the dozens of people who had their legs chained like animals.

The Green Room was filled with strange things and old furniture and cushions. Golden bulbs shined and reflected into some square mirrors and another large one with skulls as ornaments. There was a chair in front of a desk, where cups were placed next to some photos. A creepy white mannequin stood right next to the chest she was sitting in, wearing an elegant purple scarf. Something that imitated a chandelier was hanging in the middle of the roof, made out of big flower cups of white thin material. Zoro's swords were left against one of the cushions, where her two identical guns were.

A barely audible groan left the swordsman's lips as he struggled against the rope that glued his wrists to a big wheel.

"They're too strong even for you," Nami commented in a shallow tone.

Both of her hands clutched at the metal bars of the wide bird cage she was stuck in.

"I need to get out of here and kill some clowns," he muttered, focused on escaping. "I've got out of worse."

"With that I have to agree," the witch sighed.

"I saw a town when I got out of the tent… what was left of it after Buggy destroyed it."

"You mean, when you tried to leave us for dead?" Zoro grimaced after pulling at the ropes again.

The witch was like a bystander, her eyes running from one to the other. They were seriously insane, ready to argue in a life-or-death situation.

"You were picking up a fight you couldn't win," Nami snapped her head towards the swordsman.

"I know your type: if there's nothing to gain, you're out."

"Says the one who runs after Berries—"

"Shut it, you two," the witch intervened, letting out a groan. "We can argue and throw venom at each other after we get out of here."

"If we get out of here," Nami retorted.

"We do because I have too much of an ego to play in a circus created by a maniac," the witch mumbled.

After a few moments of silence, no sounds coming from outside the room they were left in, Nami got a lock pin out of her boot.

"Didn't they take all of them?" Zoro asked.

"They only took three," she smirked for a brief moment.

The witch leaned her torso forward and, despite the painful tug of the rope, she tried to raise them to the belt of her pants. She snuck her fingers between the two pieces of clothing and bit at her bottom lip when her skin started stinging painfully.

Finally, she got a small pocket knife out and grinned.

"I thought you were a witch," the swordsman gazed at her.

"You'll see magic once I get out of here," she joked.

A loud scream ripped through the air and it made all of them snap their heads towards the door.

Was that Luffy?

The witch's blood froze in her veins.

"You better hurry," Zoro whispered.

The witch gulped and wielded the knife between her fingers until the sharp edge grazed the rope around her wrists. She moved the knife up and down, putting as much pressure as the position allowed her. Nami, on the other hand, continued rolling the lock pick into the padlock.

Now that the woman stared intently at the mannequin while cutting the rope — even if way too slowly —, the doll had a scary smile painted in black on its porcelain face. Why was it looking back at her?

Minutes of unsuccessful cutting ropes and rolling lock picks, after another groan coming out of Zoro's mouth, he spoke:

"Someone's coming."

"Keep them talking, I need more time," Nami turned her head.

"Same here."

"I don't talk, I hit things," he grunted.

"Then change your hobby," the witch huffed.

The witch's eyes widened and she leaned back against the chest, so her arms and pocket knife would be hidden. Her heart was beating painfully fast in between her ribs and it was almost ridiculous, how she was sweating and the clothes started getting uncomfortable.

A monocycle creaked under the man who just got inside the room. He passed right by her when he came in, which sent her into an inner crisis. Wearing dark colored clothes and an unbuttoned coat without sleeves, the man hopped off and let the object fall to the floor.

She had no clue why the pirate chose to get close to the swordsman, who looked at him dead in the eye.

"Remember me?" the pirate spoke.

"No. Must be some other homicidal, unicycle-riding clown."

The witch was reminded you pay for the audacity of speaking up to your enemy when you're locked up; Zoro got instantly hit by the pirate's fist into the stomach. However, he didn't give that clown any satisfaction, his lips glued.

She eyed Nami, who was turned with her back at the lock of her cage, trying to open it without even looking at it. Damn, it wasn't good.

The witch couldn't hear whatever the fuck that clown was muttering at Zoro's ear, her fingers moving the knife faster, a tight knot settling in her throat as adrenaline pumped through her.

Nami made eye contact with the swordsman and the pirate who called himself Cabaji turned towards her.

"I've never met a clown. I thought they're supposed to be funny. Do some acrobatics on your monocycle, maybe it can help the time pass."

The witch shouldn't have opened her mouth in the first place, but if Nami was caught, it could've ended badly. Maybe it was the fault of the adrenaline, but pissing off that idiot with three strands of mint green hair made her smirk victoriously.

People who get angry when you step on their ego have always been the funniest creatures alive.

Of course, the reaction she received wasn't a good one. The pirate took two knives from his belt and stepped closer. She refused to look away and nothing could erase that grin off her face.

"Still doesn't ring a bell," Zoro caught his attention again.

Bad move. One of Cabaji's knives cut through the air and sunk into the wood the swordsman was glued to. Any other sounds have immediately been silenced.

"You followed us day and night for weeks through the Goa kingdom, never relenting, like some kind of demon."

Oh, so that's who Roronoa Zoro really was; the witch dared to allow her curiosity to act like a sponge about the new information. Interesting. The swordsman was a demon and a bounty hunter. Amazing combo.

He was probably hated by every pirate on the sea.

The woman tried her best to focus on the pocket knife between her fingers, but she couldn't help the fear crawling up into her skin. They had to get out of there alive and, preferably, with their limbs attached to their body.

After a few heavy steps, Cabaji gripped at the edge of the wooden wheel and in less than two seconds, the swordsman was rotating like a toy. The pirate walked roughly two meters away and then continued tossing knives, each time managing to avoid Zoro's flesh.

Nami and the witch looked at each other for a brief moment and then continued with their previous work.

When the rope finally got cut, she looked at the maniac pirate who didn't stop with his play yet. She held back her reactions, instead choosing to look at the swordsman who was rotating in the air and it made her pale. Time passed by too slowly and she slowly let out a long sigh when the wheel stopped from moving.

"You really don't fear death, do you?" Cabaji huffed.

He wasn't satisfied by the lack of reaction he received from Zoro who looked like he's gone through that three times a day for years. How did he manage to keep such a poker face?

"No, I just don't fear you."

Good, make him corner you.

The pirate didn't think twice before he threw a knife that aimed right above the swordsman's wrist. Their enemy wasn't careful enough, since the rope could now be easily cut.

Cabaji walked towards Zoro — another mistake. Nami already opened her cage and she was silently getting out. The witch didn't hesitate when she stopped pretending like she still had her wrists tied together. Clutching at the knife between her fingers, she raised her hand and tossed the sharp object through the air, aiming at the man's back.

"Thinking you're the only one who can play with knives, clown?" she huffed.

Cabaji turned and it was Nami's opportunity to kick his stomach with her foot, which made him fall on his back, the knife digging further into his flesh, cutting through his ribs and lung.

Finally, the witch's anxiety lowered now that one of their men was down. Now, who knows how many more they had to defeat.

"I didn't take you for a criminal."

Nami took one of the knives stuck in the wheel and cut Zoro's rope and then came to her other crewmate, helping with the rope around her ankles.

"I was desperate and he was annoying," the witch shrugged while she rubbed at her aching wrists.

When she found the freedom of moving again, she got out of the chest and took all the knives she found, including the ones from the wheel.

"What's the plan?" Zoro asked as he arranged his swords back at his hip.

"I say we beat the shit out of every clown we see," Nami grinned.

The witch smiled after she put each knife at her belt, rolling another one between her fingers. With her guns sitting at each side of her hip and the bonus of adrenaline, it felt like nothing could stop her.

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈•┈┈┈

The sharp edge of the weapon broke the glass after she threw it right in the middle of Luffy's aquarium — or whatever that thing was supposed to be.

"Luffy!" she shouted his name.

The glass wall of his cage shattered and the water splashed around, the straw hat coughing, his face pale. He was on the floor, soaked to the bone. His straw hat was so close to him,yet so far away. Luffy vomited the cylinder with the map and despite the nausea he was experiencing, he crawled to his hat.

He put himself in danger this entire time and chose not to let go of the Grand Line map, but that object held much more importance to him. The witch froze for a mere moment, confused, but when she wanted to get closer and get the map away from Buggy, a pirate with a sword came sprinting towards her.

"Witch!" she heard a gruff voice.

She dodged it before her head could get cut off and sank a knife into his stomach, only to raise the agony after she hit the man in the same spot, blood gushing out of his wound and soaking his clothes.

With a swift motion, her fingers grabbed at one of her revolvers. She fired at Buggy who was a breath away from touching the map, but didn't pay enough attention to another attack towards her.

A sword's edge shone in the corner of her eye and no matter how fast she was, she couldn't dodge that. Her eyes widened and she waited for the pain to inflict into her body. The pirate froze in place and his sword slipped between his fingers. When he fell to his knees, from behind him there was Zoro who was using a three-sword style.

Definitely a demon; but in a good way.

The witch nodded at him. She didn't train properly in the past year and she lost some speed on the way. She hasn't been in such a situation for a long time.

With other two pirates attacking them from the sides, she protected his blind spot while he killed another enemy with a mere flick of his swords. Another loud shot rang through the air and another man fell down, the center of his heart pierced.

"Buggy needs to have a weakness," the witch said.

"And what is it?"

The answer was right before their eyes: Luffy managed to get back to his feet while they were busy. He used his ability to elongate his arm and grabbed at the leg who was moving in the air, only to throw it in a chest. Nami closed it and grinned mischievously.

That was it.

The witch rolled another knife between her fingers and analyzed the detached hand that was rotating around her. At the perfect time, she threw it in the middle of its palm with enough force to send it into another chest, Nami locking it.

They focused on getting each part of Buggy's body stuck in any suitable place, be it a chest, a barrel or under a bucket. For as long as they got rid of that maniac, everything was fine.

She let out a sigh when only the clown's head remained intact, now laughing pitifully. Zoro bent down and grabbed the head, locking it into a box and putting a rock on top of it.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

A/N: Thank you so much for the comments and the support <3

Tag list: @emelia07 @dimplewonie @tfamidoingwithmylife @murnsondock @the-skys-musical-echo @conspiracy-crows @hallow33nz @ramae17 @gaslysainz @bunntsu @katt58

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russellsppttemplates · 1 year

Text

You mean the world to me (Mick Schumacher)

Insecurities get the best of Y/N and, while Mick is on holiday, a media post makes her wonder

Note: english is not my first language. I know this has taken me so so so long to write but time just has been very tricky and I can't seem to juggle it all!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated, and while I'm not actively taking requests, I am writing some blurbs when I can (honestly, it's a very rare thing these days) so if you have any ideas or concepts that can be written in a small amount of sentences and you want to share, feel free to do so!

Tw: mentions anxious symptoms, feelings of being unworthy/insecurities

"Are you sure there isn't a way you can join?", Mick asked, looking at your calendar app with you by his side, "no, I mean, there's these two days here but that would be the travelling alone. I'd get there and spend 24 hours maximum with you before having to hop on a plane back home to be at this client", you pointed, "That's true, yes", he said before rubbing his forehead, "so you're not joining, it sucks, but is is what is is, I guess".

"I'm sorry I can't go, I'd really like to, but with all of this in my schedule and the distance I would have to travel, it just doesn't make sense. We'll do it together another time", you offered, squeezing his other hand that was on top of the table and helping him balance his body, "sure".

"Hi, liebling, how are you?", Mick asked over the phone, the noise on his side of the line contrasting with the quietness of your shared home on your end of the line, "I've been good, tired, but at least things are progressing well at work, seems like they finally understand that when we have meetings, we can actually get things done if they stop talking about everyone's business", you giggled, hearing a faint smile in Mick's voice, "I'm glad you're okay. We are actually going on a boat now, I'm not sure how good the service is once we leave so I'm calling you now", he explained, leaving you to talk a bit more before he had to depart, "wish you were here, liebling. As soon as you're able, I'm getting you here with me. Hopefully soon, yeah?".

Your work meetings had actually been productive for once, not making you regret the decision to stay home while Mick travelled. All of the pictures he would send you of him and his friends showed him having a great time, which you were happy about, knowing that that quality time was well deserved.

What you did not see pictures of was the article that had popped in your browser. It was by far something you did on a regular basis, but by some reason or another, you opened the article stating what you could only interpret as a mean, mean joke. As you scrolled down, allegations that Mick had been seen with someone else, "fondly flirting" as the article read, started gaining force and body, different blurry pictures and supposed witnesses' reports filling the page while your mind filled with worries. That was not something you had ever considered, after all you trusted your boyfriend completely, but you couldn't stop the thoughts or shake away the possibility of that actually being true. What evidence did you have? An article that could well be false and just a poor attempt at meddling in your private life, but pair that up with the feelings of uneasiness you had since you couldn't join Mick in the trip and your mind couldn't let the idea go. Tears fell from your eyes as your knee bounced under your desk, your hand shaking as you managed to close the Internet page while your thoughts repeatedly made you doubt. It wouldn't be the first time you heard something like that, after all, relationships come and go, and did Mick have any reason to look for someone else? You both had always agreed that from the moment it didn't feel right to any of you, you would talk to eachother to see a way to solve it, and if you didn't have a way to solve it other than break up, that would be it. Had Mick skipped the first step of the agreement? Or had he tried to talk to you about it and you didn't see where he was at already? Had you been so blind to it? So lost in your thoughts, you didn't even notice Mick arriving back with Angie from their walk until you felt Angie's paws on your lap, asking to get up and snuggle you like she had done many times while you felt like this.

"Angie, do you want some water or so-oh. Y/N, are you okay? What happened?", Mick asked, his hand coming to tub your back as Angie placed her head in your chest area, the weight helping you regulate your unsteady breathing, "Y/N, hey, hey, you're okay, my love. Everything's fine, okay?", he urged you to follow his voice, something that always calmed you, and your heart panged a little bit more. He was the one that knew how to calm you down, but maybe there would be a day where it wouldn't be him, where he would have enough of the way you preferred things and leave you behind, and maybe that day was today. Letting out a big deep sigh, you looked up at your boyfriend's blue eyes, "you know I will never judge you, especially for anything you've done when I don't know the reasons behind it but... what are your intentions here? You know you can be honest with me, Mick", you asked, your lips trembling slightly.

Mick was confused, not understanding where the conversation came from and where it was leading, "what do you mean, Y/N? I know I can be honest with you, I am honest with you. Did I do something to make you doubt that?", he wondered gently, "have you seen something that made you doubt that?", he said as his expression hardened slightly, his jaw locked as he waited for an answer.

Grabbing your phone, you typed in the page you had seen the low quality pictures, "this popped up today", you said, offering him your phone so he could scroll and see for himself, his eyebrows quirking up as he read the words on the screen, "and you believe this?", he said after what felt like an eternity, "is that why you're doubting me?", and while his words and tone stung, your mind could inly list why he would leave you.

"I don't want to, I really don't want to believe in them, but my mind always comes back to them, to the words, and I can't shake them off", you said, your voice little as you looked at him, "so you believe what they are saying?", Mick confirmed, trying to get to the root of the problem, "Liebling, I'm with you, and I don't want to be with anyone else", he said calmly, trying to get you to embrace his body as he stretched his arms, your immediate reaction making your wrap your arms around yourself to control the shaking of your body, even pushing Angie a bit to the side.

"This may be what you want now, but what about a day where you realise you're bored of me and leave me?", you whispered, the tears that were caught on your throat flowing freely now as you looked at Mick while keeping a safe distance from him, "what? Y/N, no, no, no, no. Y/N, I'll never do that to you, never. Don't you trust me?", he asked, the gentleness in his voice leaving slowly, "I trust you, Mick. But it's so hard, I-, I'm reminded of how different I am from everyone else around you, everyday, how I don't have the same they have, and-, and how do I know that?", you questioned as you wiped the tears on your face. Your boyfriend looked at you with uncertainty, "Y/N, I promise that whatever is going on in your head is not the truth. I love you, I have loved you and I'm going to continue to do so", he tried to reason, "If we're not on the same page, we are just wasting out time in this relationship", Mick said and it felt like a dagger through the heart. But it hurt even more because you knew it was the truth. How could you both be in a relationship like that?

Looking at the garden, you tried your best to deal with your emotions and the thoughts running through your head, "I can't talk right now, I'm sorry. I'm tired, I'm afraid I'll say things I'll regret later and I don't want to do that, I don't want to do that to you", you said getting up and heading to the home office, not before hearing a muttered "I love you" from Mick, feeling himself that prolonging the argument would only lead to worse than it had.

You must have fallen asleep in your chair, the small pain in your neck allowing you to come to your senses quickly, your mind also not giving you a break before your mind filled with thoughts, the same ones you've had for a while. Truth being told, you had been feeling unworthy of Mick for a bit. How everyone around him always seemed to have time to go on his adventures, how they loved to be in groups and how you did not fit in the type everyone seemed to think the young driver deserved.

Heading to the kitchen, you looked at the time on the oven to see that it was just past dinner time, not seeing anything that indicated that Mick had the meal already. While you waited for the water to boil so you could make some tea, your hands tapped on the counter, Mick's words from before getting to you. Were you going to call it? Especially like this? Were you on different pages? Did he think you didn't deserve him either? All thoughts spiralled, the kettle long forgotten as you started to feel tingles on your legs, almost like you were incapable of standing on them, making your rest your back on the wall, letting your body slide slowly until your butt hit the floor while your lungs felt like they couldn't get enough air inside them.

You closed your eyes, trying to regulate your breathing as best as you could when you felt the floor vibrate almost, the feeling not getting enough time to be processed as another texture caught your senses, soft fur along your arms before you felt what you recognised as Angie's tongue lick your cheek, her snout later making you tilt your chin upwards while you heard your boyfriend's voice, "Liebling, Y/N, liebling, hey...! Breathe for us, yeah?", Mick said as you tried your best to follow his voice and block out everything else, looking for his hand to hold while Angie managed to lay on top of your legs.

"That's it, nice and slow, very good. You're doing so good, my love, so good", Mick said as he rubbed your knuckles, "big, deep breath, just like I'm doing", waiting to see some colour come back to your face and for you to return back to a normal breathing pattern, the tears now concerning him, "what's the matter?", he said gently, "are you going to break up with me?", you forwarded, "just be honest, it is a yes or no question", you yelped.

Shaking his head and himseld out of his stance, Mick sat in front of you, "Y/N, I'm not breaking up with you", he clarified, "I understand now that the way I said it was not the best, but we need to talk it out. But to me it doesn't mean that, not until we fight for it, fight for us", he smiled softly, seeing you calm down almost totally, your hands a little shaky still while the Australian Shepherd looked up at you, "your head is heavy, miss Angie", you chuckled, finally feeling her head on your legs.

Helping you get up once you felt strong enough to do so, Mick handed you a cup of water and let you drink it, watching you closely before grabbing your hand, "can we talk about it?", he said, "I don't want you to feel worse, but I don't like to be like this with you either", he explained while you nodded in agreement, squeezing his hand in yours as you walked to the sofa in the living room.

"First, I want to apologise for what I said. I know that I said it and I can't undo it, I know it hurt you, and that is something I never want to do, ever", Mick started, "so, I'm sorry, Y/N", he looked into your eyes, "but, like I said, I want us to talk about it because I feel like that will be how we understand what is going on", he encouraged you.

Gulping, you fiddled with his fingers, "I feel like, sometimes, I'm not what you deserve", you started, "like you could do so much better", you were interrupted by him, "I'm sorry for not noticing you were feeling like this", Mick said, "It's not your fault", you said, looking around the room, "I get insecure about it. That you'll leave. About how I am different than the rest of your friends' and their partners, how I can't go on all these trips because I have work, how I'll never look like the beautiful women that surround you everywhere and that support you around the world, but I also know that you love me just like that and would never make me change who I am, it's just the articles, it messed me up, I'm sorry too", you whispered, your voice cracking fully as the tears left your eyes, Mick's hand stretching to wipe them.

"You mean the world to me, Y/N. You're the most beautiful woman out there and I only care about you. And I want to see you thrive, wether it is in work or other things, I want to see you happy and be the luckiest man in the world that gets to be loved by you, to see you be an even better person everyday", he said as he looked at your lips, "I want you to be with me on trips and adventures, sure, but I will never ask you to drop everything you have and come with me just for that", he mused, "and I would never ever do anything like that to you, nothing they wrote ever crossed my mind. I love you too much to every hurt you like that, and it bothered me that you considered it. I now understand why, so", he kissed the top of your head before looking back at you, eye to eye, "anytime you have these doubts, you can come and talk to me. And I mean it. I'll make sure to remind you everyday of how much I love you and how you mean the world to me", he smiled, seeing a sparkle in your eyes, "Thank you for being so understanding", you said, "I love you, Mick", you smiled, "so so so much", before locking your lips with his, Angie wagging her tail around you, "are you doing that because you want some food?".

#mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher fic #mick schumacher x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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apprenticestanheight · 6 months

Text

Work Stress- Adam Stanheight x gn! reader

ALLLLLLL RIGHT, welcome to the monthly "my mental health is shit" fic that I bestow upon the people whenever my mental health isn't as great as it could be, which--in fairness--is nearly all the fucking time.

Two of these might be coming out this month, though! I have not had the greatest streak of days without anxiety lately and I write fics whenever it gets really bad. The day I finished this one, I was like "I am going to write something. for chainshipping (again)" so a chainshipping fic will probably be out by the end of the week

On some other notes, A: while it's not explicitly stated, the reader is what's traditionally considered midsized as that's what I am and I wanted to write a fic with my body type. As per usual with me, the reader is generally gn but as I know the anatomy best, they're AFAB. B: requests are starting to get looked at! I have one waiting to be finished, edited and posted sitting in my drafts but otherwise will have probably looked through and decided which requests I will do vs which ones I won't by the time this has been posted. Things will probably start coming out at the end of this week and keep coming out into next.

Fic type- this jumps into a lot of differing areas, but the main genres are quite possibly the oddest combination I've ever written--smut and angst.

Warnings- as this fic contains smut it caters to an audience of people 18+, so minors, DO NOT INTERACT. There is A LOT here--p in v, oral (both recieve, even if on Adams end the oral is only mentioned), doggy style, fingering, petplay kind of (I was trying to think of a gender neutral petname and puppy was the only thing my brain could think of at first. It's literally just used as a petname and gets overshadowed by 'baby' after a point bc I remembered that that word existed--I wrote a lot of this while tired, pls take some of the stuff in it with a grain of salt), as for sfw warnings: there's a mention of loss of appetite in relation to extreme stress

It's no secret to Adam that you've been having a very, very rough year.

You've been living together since just a couple weeks after he'd escaped the trap--he was taken from his apartment and found it too anxiety inducing to stay there so you let him move into yours.

You'd been dating since you were twenty one and at twenty six, moving in was bound to happen eventually, but getting out of his lease was taking a hell of a lot more time than Adam had originally anticipated.

He noticed every rough day in the bags that you'd begun to sport underneath your eyes, how late you came to bed and your reluctancy to be very affectionate with him--whenever things got bad, be it at work or with stuff going on in your head, you withdrew and pushed him away--and in the fact that you weren't eating as much, in that you always looked like your mind was somewhere else, wandering off completely.

So, one day near the middle of November--where he'd started to notice your bad days in very early March--he joins you in the kitchen while you speak to one of your bosses via phone call.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, grabs your hand, gives it a squeeze. He wants to cheer you up--you're prone to bad days due to insecurity and because of a long-standing not so great track record where your mental health is concerned--and, in that particular moment, finds himself willing to do anything.

You give your best go at grinning back at him, but it comes out looking like more of a grimace. You let Adams hand go to run a stressed hand through your hair, returning your hand to Adams and letting him interlace your fingers thereafter.

"Yes," you whisper. "I understand that things are always tough in the last quarter, but--" you sigh dejectedly as your boss cuts you off, and Adam presses another kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger for a minute.

"Yes, Earle--but you're not seeing the point here. I'm eligible for the raise because I've kept the teams afloat! The only reason you're not also eligible for the raise is because you took an eight month vacation with PTO that you quite literally stole from other employees, myself included, and just because Monica isn't willing to fire you over that doesn't mean your actions didn't warrant alternative punishments," you lean forward, press a kiss to Adams shoulder. Adams grin widens slightly as he notices that you're visibly relaxing from his touches.

A solid two minutes of shouting pass by on the other end. Adam gives your hand a supportive squeeze whenever Earles voice raises another octave in his shouting, pressing kisses against your temple when you let him pull you into a half hug. He keeps hold of your hand when the position changes, your torso pressing against the counter as Adam stands in front of you.

"Earle--I am eligible for the raise because you took six weeks of PTO from me, which I only get thanks to our companies union," You snap. "Now, because I had to spend so much time doing my fucking job, unlike you, I'm eligible for enough of a raise to make me capable of buying a home by '06, and if you're pissed off at me for that, I genuinely cannot help you any further. I have a boyfriend who I would much rather be talking to over your sorry arse, so I'm going to hang up now and if you call me back, I will ignore it. Have the day you deserve, asshat."

You hang up the phone and sigh, gaze meeting Adams in an instant.

"'M sorry," you whisper, biting your top lip for a few seconds as you look at him. "Work has been a fuckin' mess since like, the end of February. I just--damn it all."

"Eh, Earle sounds like a dickhead," Adam laughs. "How does one even get away with--eight full months? Of PTO? How?"

"Per the union agreement we have, we get six weeks a year," you start. "It's why I'm always off in December--I like staying home when it gets cold, gives me an excuse to read and drink more tea than I should--but we've moved to digitizing off time recently. Took the six weeks I'd planned to pace between the end of this month and all of next and switched them up for himself. Did that with five other employees and still, Monica doesn't fire him. Just makes me eligible for a raise of fifteen dollars on company dime because the off time I lost out on forced me to do more while I was there. Our company has one hundred and eighty-six employees in the Jersey branch and a bunch of 'em like taking spaces in the last six months of the year off, so it was me managing two teams of eighty people. Not easy work at all."

Adam blinks. "Did Monica even offer to give you the PTO back?"

"She gave me hers," you shrug. "Earle can have a lot of fuckin' fun managing one hundred and sixty people by himself. I'll find out if I get the raise tomorrow morning and my PTO will kick in then, too. He can eat shit as far as I'm concerned, I have a long list of books and two boxes of my favorite tea to drink my way through as of tomorrow."

You let Adam lead you into your shared bedroom, humming as you lay down on your bed and close your eyes.

"Are you okay?" Adam asks.

"Been a very, very stressful eight months," you laugh. "Trying to think of what I need and only one thing continually comes to mind."

"What's that?" You can hear the eagerness behind the teasing tone in Adams voice.

"I need--uh--" You laugh, suddenly feeling a little awkward. Propositioning Adam for sex was not typically done with words but kisses and your hands on his chest, relishing in the way that he looked when he lead you to your bedroom and fucked you senseless.

"Go on, baby," Adam whispers, his lips suddenly near your ear. "Gonna say it?"

You hum, suddenly embarrassed at yourself, and Adam laughs.

"Use your words, puppy," He whispers, pressing a kiss against your earlobe. "How am I supposed to know what you want me to do if you don't use your words?"

You moan helplessly in response.

"You really are cute," Adam says. "Tough while at work, one phone call later and now you're helpless that you can't even speak. Can't even say one word."

"Adam," you breathe, both because it's the one word that's coming to mind and also because you know he loves the way you say his name when all you want is for him to fuck you.

"Good puppy," Adam presses a kiss to your cheek. "Tell me what you want me to do, mm? I'll do whatever you want, but if you want me to fuck you, know that you'll be in bed for a long time once we go to sleep. You're going to come a lot tonight, puppy. You deserve it."

You moan in response. "Please," you whisper.

"You want me to fuck you, puppy?"

"Yeah," you nod. "Adam--I need you to. Don't wanna think anymore. In eight months, I've thought enough for eight lifetimes. Fuck me senseless, please."

"Whatever you want," Adam says, pulling you into a long kiss that has your head spinning.

You spend the next few minutes like that, in a kiss that's so intense, so loving and so fucking good that you wonder how you've been able to go so long being fine with quick kisses and self gratification.

The first kiss reminds you of how amazing it is to be kissed by Adam whenever the more dominant side of him comes out for a bit of fun, the way that his hands anchor themselves on your hips before one slides up your torso to cup your face, the sureness of his tongue in your mouth--everything feels amazing, and it's almost like it's too good to be true.

And then Adam pulls away for air and your eyes are opening and his lips are against your clothed shoulder, breathing in deeply with a smile on his face.

"I'm sorry we've not been--well--" you start. Adam tilts your chin upward and presses a kiss on the underside of your jaw. "I've been a terrible--"

"I've missed this, sure," Adam says, pressing another kiss against the underside of your jaw. "Yeah. Of course I've missed it, Y/N, but I absolutely understand that you've been busy. Work has kept me busy, too, so I'm just glad we can have tonight. I've missed you so much and I just wanna make you forget about how shitty the past months have been. Wanna make sure the only word you remember how to stay is my name, and that's what I'm going to do tonight, puppy. Sounds good?"

You nod eagerly, which makes Adam laugh as the hand that's on your hip gives it a squeeze.

Your gaze becomes affixed to a random point on the ceiling as Adams kisses rove across the scope of your neck, one hand on your jaw to move your head whenever he wants better access.

After a point, you start to realize that his kisses are getting longer and not too long thereafter you realize that Adam is carefully laying hickeys over your neck and is taking his time with doing it.

You want to murmur a quip, do something to jab at the possessiveness hickeys usually carry, but right as you go to do so his lips and tongue find a home on the pulse point on the right side of your neck and all you can do is moan softly, one hand finding his hair.

"Adam," you whisper. "Fucking hell, Adam--you're going to drive me insane. Please don't stop."

You hear Adams laugh, slow, amused, a little sadistic. "Well, if I'm the one who drives you to insanity, I think that means I'm the one who has to pull you out of it, doesn't it, puppy?"

With the use of that one, silly nickname, you're reduced to what is basically a human shaped puddle, and Adam knows it. Whenever he calls you his puppy in a slightly dominant tone, your knees are at risk of giving out and the look you give him is tantamount to torture if he intends to tease you until you're begging.

"Mhm," you hum, moaning as Adams lips press in a peck against your pulse point. "Also means the same if you put me into subspace with all this foreplay, Adam."

Adam grins, and you let him tilt your chin so that your head turns to meet his gaze.

"Of course," he says. "I'm basically an aftercare god, despite the fact that Scott dunked on me for it while believing a cigarette afterwards is anything less than the bare minimum--I'll take good care of you once the session is done, puppy. I promise."

Your shoulders relax at the reassurance, and you grin as Adams lips press against your forehead.

You nod after a second. "Okay," you say. "I--thank you, for this. Pre-emptively."

Deep enough into subspace and you'll borderline on mute, only able to focus on how Adams ministrations feel. You have no doubt he intends to take you there tonight, so you feel the need to thank him before you slink that far in and have to wait for it to wear off to speak a coherent sentence to him again.

"We both need it, so it's my pleasure," Adam says, starting to undo the buttons of the black long sleeved button up you'd worn to work and had yet to take off that day. "And yours--it's both of us. I promise I'll start getting more dominant in a sec, these buttons hate me."

You laugh a little, helping him undo the rest of the buttons. "They're square. They hate everybody, me included. Getting this shirt on was a nightmare this morning and I've been reminded as to why I never wear the damn thing."

Adam uses the small of your back to guide you off the bed just enough to be able to completely take the shirt off, following it by the oddly quick--Adam is very, very good at undoing the pesky little hooks that hold bras together, oddly--removal of your bra.

His lips are on yours again, one hand on your bare hip while the other finds itself cupping your face, tongue gliding across your lip in asking for entrance which you grant as your arms wrap around his shoulders.

Kissing Adam in moments like that is always amazing--kissing him has been one of your favorite things since your romance started, even quick and chaste kisses that don't last more than a few seconds. Kissing Adam has never ceased to be an absolute delight, whether it led to sex or was used as an alternative form of "hello" "goodbye" "good night" or "good morning."

And then his lips start traversing down your neck once more, and then they go further.

Adam starts draping kiss after kiss across your torso, lips pressing against you in a way that allows his tongue to poke through his teeth as he kisses you with his mouth slightly open. Every single touch of his cold tongue against your warm skin makes you clench around nothing, quickens your heart rate and feels so impossibly delightful. Adam is kissing you in a way that damn near drives you insane, and you feel yourself sinking into how good his lips and tongue feel against you as he delivers praise between kisses.

"Such a good puppy for me, mm?" Adam murmurs when he's close to your belly button. "Taking all of this so well even though you probably just want me inside you already. Such a good cumdump for me, puppy. Perfect."

You hum in response, eyes drifting down to meet his gaze as he looks up at you. He smiles, briefly, before continuing with his kisses, letting himself spend a lot of time on your hips before his kisses rove across your stomach.

He kisses along your v-line slowly and in a way that makes you want to start begging, hands roving up from your hips to your biceps.

He glances at you for a second in the asking, waiting for you to nod. You do so and Adams hands move to your pants, taking them off along with your underwear before laughing at himself.

"I've got you here, lookin' fucking perfect," he says, kissing your bicep. "And yet I'm still clothed."

Your hands go to the hem of his shirt and he lets you pull it off, kissing the side of your shoulder as he watches you toss it near the laundry hamper in the far left corner of the room. Next come his pants and his boxers, which Adam takes off in a manner that's somehow effortless despite his continued kisses to your biceps throughout the process.

"I forget how much I love your arms until I'm kissing your biceps again," Adam says, laughing a little. "Fuck, baby. Your arms are fucking gorgeous."

You hum, pressing your head into the pillow behind you as Adams kisses start up again and his hands start wandering. One settles against your face, cupping it softly, and the other goes wandering delightfully down your torso, not stopping until his fingers are millimeters above your clit.

He pauses, gaze meeting yours in a way that feels almost a little sadistic.

"Gonna make you come so many times tonight, baby," he says. "Safe word?"

"Hibiscus," you whisper. It's a precaution for when you get really kinky, a word you came up with but, five years into your relationship, have yet to actually use.

Adams lips press against the center of your collarbone, "good puppy," he whispers against the skin.

His fingers start making slow, tantalizing circles around your clit, and his kisses continue, roving down your torso and staying in the general area of your hips and stomach.

A few minutes pass you by, and right when Adam has picked up the speed and is bringing you to the edge of an orgasm, he stops.

When he notices the disappointment in the way your head falls back onto the pillow, he wastes no time in licking his fingers clean of the wetness spread across them.

"Didn't think I'd let you come so soon, did you, puppy?" Adam moves up, lips near your ear. "I did say I'd make you come multiple times tonight, but I said nothing of letting you do so without a little edging first. Gonna edge you until the sun goes down, at least, and then make you cum until at least one or two in the morning. Gonna call in sick tomorrow, too, so that I'm not worrying about waking up and going into work."

"How much more time until the sunset?" You ask. It's four--the sunset can't really be so far off, can it?

"An hour," Adam says. "But--to be fair, a lot more can be done in an hour than one might think. Also--eight hours between five and one am. Assuming that the session exhausts you, you'll probably wake up close to noon tomorrow, but there's snow in the forecast and I'll probably make you a cup of tea if I wake up before you do."

You hum. "Thank you, Adam," you whisper. He kisses you deeply, and you can still taste yourself on his tongue.

"Don't thank me," he says when he's pulled away. "It's what good partners do, especially when I'll have practically rearranged your guts and it'll be a reward for doing good anyway."

You laugh. Adam presses a kiss to your forehead as his hands once again ground themselves on your hips and yours find his shoulders, holding him close.

"I love you, baby," he says. "Sorry that work has been shit."

"I love you too," you respond. "And--that's not your fault. Please don't blame yourself for mistakes that aren't yours, Adam. Please, just kiss me. Wanna forget about work and stupid fucking Earle--just wanna think about how good it feels to be touched and kissed by you. Please."

Adams lips press against your forehead again, his hands cupping your face.

"Gonna make sure you do," he says. His lips move to your biceps again, and you shudder an intake of breath as he leaves a hickey in the wake of one of his kisses.

You have a thought to call him a hickey fiend but don't--the risk of joking with him when Adam is in dom mode is not worth the reward even slightly.

His kisses trail down your face to your neck, and from your neck to your chest. You moan a little when his lips find your nipples, biting gently as his hands give your hips a contented squeeze.

Your head falls back onto the pillow beneath it, and you smile slightly as you hear Adams contented hum as he kisses along your chest from one nipple to the other.

The next several minutes are spent in pretty much the same state. Adam kisses your chest and neck with an open mouth, tongue all too eager to leave a trail of saliva behind his kisses. He's mostly quiet as he goes about it, but every time he does something to make you moan his hands squeeze your hips in acknowledgement.

And then his lips move to your stomach, spending an absurd amount of time leaving hickeys in the less obvious places. He spends more time on your hips which tells you you'll have dark hickeys to look forward to once you have the time to investigate the state of your body in a mirror, but he's not always the dominant one when you two are having sex--you'll find your moment where he's in a particularly submissive mood and douse his body with light-ish hickeys in some very obvious spots.

His lips move down to your thighs, and his gaze meets yours.

"You're feeling all right?" He asks, lips pressing gloriously against the top of your right thigh. "Need you to make space for me, puppy. Haven't paid your thighs attention in so fucking long--'nother minute of waiting and I will go insane."

You laugh as you spread your legs and Adam positions himself in between them, lips moving across your thighs as his arms slip under them and his hands find your hips.

The amount of attention he devotes to your legs alone is almost a little excessive--it takes him ten minutes before he's content to move from your right leg to your left, and then he's focusing on that leg just as long.

Then again--Adam has always loved your thighs. You've had moments of insecurity that they were too big to handle but he's always met your insecurity with reassurance, promised that he'd tell you if he was having trouble breathing whenever he asked you to sit on his face. He loves your thighs and your biceps, which are two of the areas where you find most of your insecurity.

And then you feel his breath against your folds, and you breathe in deeply while clenching around nothing.

"Wanna taste you, puppy," Adam says. You're nodding eagerly before he can even finish the sentence, wondering how it was that you managed to go eight months without feeling Adams mouth over your folds, his lips on your clit.

Adam is good at giving oral--he is fucking amazing at it, and as his tongue presses flat against your folds, his gaze holding yours, you find that it seems he's still as good as he was eight months ago.

His tongue runs through your folds for a very long few seconds before it presses against your clit. You moan at the contact, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head as his tongue moves in circles around the bundle of nerves.

His tongue moves back to your folds, and your hand goes to his hair. You don't hold him in a tight grip or anything, just enough to ground yourself and keep yourself from slipping away.

It's hard not to slip into it, though. The grip that Adam has on your hips, the way he's eating you out like a man starved and that goddamned nickname he always uses whenever he's domming. All of it is so much combined, so much after eight months, and all you want to do is slip into subspace and just let Adam use you however he wants.

He keeps going until you're so close--teetering on the edge, nearly ready to come on his face--and then he stops, pulling away with a glistening mouth to take a breath.

And then he's lifting himself off of you, pulling himself up to press kiss after kiss after kiss to the spot where your neck meets your shoulder, and his hand is cupping your face.

"Please, puppy," he says. "Don't wanna go eight months without this ever again. Missed it."

It takes everything in you to drum up a response, still working through the second almost-orgasm of the evening.

"Never," you manage to mumble as your head turns, seeking Adams lips. He kisses you slowly, meaningfully, and you have a moment--just a moment--where you hate yourself for letting sex get away from you for such a long time.

Work has been eight months of never ending stress, eight months of managing one hundred and sixty people, dealing with a boss who claims to care about the team but only offers a raise to the five people from whom a guy stole off time rather than firing the idiot. You feel bad--work has taken the majority of your head space since March, and that doesn't feel fair in the fucking slightest.

"Adam," you whisper. He presses a peck to your lower lip and darts his tongue out to wet his own.

"Yeah, puppy?"

"Missed you," you respond. "'M sorry about work. I promise I didn't mean to get so busy, it's just--Earle and his fucking scheme, and Monica refusing to fire his sorry ass while he has the time of his goddamned life in Monaco, and--ugh. I don't mean to ruin the mood but it's just not leaving my head."

Adam laughs, presses a kiss to your forehead. "I know how you get, Y/N," he says. "I'm too drunk on the thought of your thighs around my head to even get slightly turned off right now but that's not the point."

He laughs again, thumb gliding across your bottom lip. "I've been worried about you but I knew work was probably the reason for your late nights, baby. I promise, it just made me cherish our lazy mornings even more. If you don't like working there, you can always quit, too--you've got your rainy day savings, and my job lets me cover the rent and have money left for groceries if you don't get something right away. Has anything else been bugging you or is it just work?"

"Just been in a funk," you respond. "The sex is helping a lot, but I've always found that being with you helps me like nothing else can. Needed this, Adam. Even if you've kept me from orgasming twice so far."

"Fifteen more minutes til sundown," Adam says. "You'll be so sick of coming when I finally start letting you, baby. I think I have it in me to last eight hours, but that's because I'll be giving myself a reprieve. You, however, might not get one. Dunno--it depends on if you'll want one, really."

"You'll know I do if I use the safe word," you respond. "Just--be soft with me, mm? I don't think I can handle being degraded too much, if at all. I'm scared that if you call me a slut with a mean tone I'll just fall to pieces and start crying."

Adam laughs, presses a kiss to your temple. "Think I've done enough edging," he says. "Kind of just wanna kiss you until you're begging me for more, baby. Sound okay?"

You nod, arms wrapping around his shoulders. "You really wouldn't be mad if I quit my job?"

"I would be the opposite of angry at you if you just announced it and didn't even give your two weeks," Adam says. "You've spent the majority of the last year giving them an arm and both of your legs in the effort it's taken to keep things afloat. You're up for a significant raise which I would wait to see if you got, but there are places that pay the amount you'd be getting after your raise as the starting salary, which only goes up after the first six months. I'd start applying to those places if I were in your shoes and I didn't get the raise I fuckin' deserved."

Adams lips drop to your collarbone. "'M so in love with you," he says. "And I'm sorry that work has been such a shitstorm lately. If you want, you can switch from a marketing job to working for a salary that covers rent and groceries with me at the bookshop? They're hiring all the fucking time and it means I can basically just...spend the entirety of my break just kissing you relentlessly if you do decide to join up."

You laugh, pulling a hand through his hair. "Maybe," you say. "If I don't get the raise."

Adam laughs, gently biting against your collarbone as his hands find your hips again.

"Love your hips, puppy," he says. "Will probably have to put lotion on the hickeys I left on 'em. Got a little carried away."

"I'll get my revenge somehow," you respond. "If you ever find yourself in a submissive mood, I will absolutely cover your neck in them."

"I like hickeys in obvious places, so long as you keep them light,"

"Oh, they will be. Everywhere but your pulse point--I happen to like your pulse point, Adam. Might get carried away worse than you did with my hips."

Adam bites your collarbone again, kissing up the center of it to the underside of your jaw before his lips are once again against yours.

"I love you so fucking much," Adam says into the kiss, giving your hips a hard squeeze. "Fuck, Y/N. Gonna make sure all of your stress is gone from your mind completely. Just want you to be thinking about me, puppy."

All you can do in response is moan into Adams mouth, closing your eyes and moaning once more as he uses your moaning to slip his tongue into your mouth, one hand coming up to cup your face.

You spend the next little eternity kissing, moaning whenever Adams hands squeeze whichever part of your body they've ended up near or on--typically your ass, just below it on your thigh, your hips, or your tits--and occasionally tugging at the hairs near the nape of his neck, where one of your hands rests.

And then, Adam pulls away. You gaze at him as he holds himself up by his elbows, a handsome smirk on his face.

"You're all right?" He asks.

The truth is, all you can think about is the memory of his cock inside you and you're convinced it's slowly driving you nuts, but by all other accounts, yeah.

You nod. "I'm amazing, Adam," you say. "Need to feel you."

As you speak the words, Adam is already reaching for his night stand on his side of the bed, grabbing a condom.

You roll it onto his length, one of your hands overlapping the hand he places on your hip as you lie back down.

Adam positions himself at your entrance, pushing into you slowly even despite how wet you are--you're more than ready to feel him, but Adam still goes slow to be cautious.

When he bottoms out, both of you moan. Your lips are almost right next to Adams ear, his forehead pressing against your shoulder, so the sound of you moaning just makes Adam want you more. One of his hands is on your breast, and he squeezes it, rolling the nipple between his first finger and thumb as you clench around his length.

After a minute, you're telling Adam he can start moving and his thrusts come to a slow start as Adam figures out the pace he wants to start with.

His lips have dipped close to your ear when he whispers, "you're so wet for me," and he kisses the side of your head before adding "such a good puppy. Fuck--you're amazing."

And you're moaning in response, starting to get cockdrunk as Adam moves in calculated thrusts, one hand propping himself up by the elbow and the other against your hip.

Your thighs wrap around his waist to keep him in place, and Adam laughs as he lifts the hand on your hip to cup your face.

"You like this, baby?" He asks. You moan, nodding slightly as your eyes close, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

"Such a good puppy for me," he says. "So good, baby. You're doing so good."

And then you moan again, and Adam presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. He quickens the pace of his thrusts, lips moving to your neck as the hand that was on your face moves to your clit, rubbing circles around it and delighting in the moans it brings from your throat.

Your release spurs his on, and while you moan and release around him Adam releases into the condom, thrusting his way through the aftershocks and the way that your legs start shaking with them.

He pulls out and discards the condom, heading back to you quickly and peppering your face with kisses.

You find yourself in a state of complete and total relaxation and euphoria. Adams hands on you make you sink further in, and Adam laughs a little--you're looking at him like he's the love of your life while you're practically drowning in post-orgasm bliss, which is a delightful and meaningful addition to the times in which you've looked at him like that, particularly whenever he's decided to surprise you with breakfast or when you wake up to find him admiring you as he'd woken up before you had.

"You're feeling all right?" The orgasm had been a little intense.

You nod, and Adam presses his nose against the apple of your cheek, pressing a quick kiss there as his hands find your face.

"Going quiet?" He presses his lips to your forehead. "Not for long, baby. I have at least seven more hours with you, yeah?"

You nod, and Adams lips are on yours again.

A lot of the time, you start to realize, will be passed with Adams lips against yours, his hands going somewhere on your body as you moan and whine at his touches.

You don't hate the idea, though--Adam is a damn good kisser and absolutely knows what he's doing with his lips and tongue. You've proven yourself capable of lazily making out with Adam for hours several times, though that was when the two of you were kiss fiends in the honeymoon phase and couldn't go more than twenty minutes without it.

But then, Adams lips trail from your lips to your chest, paying attention to it as his hands move from your face to your hips. Once he's paid satisfactory attention to your chest, he moves to your stomach, where, per the presence of your hips close by, he stays for a long ten minutes.

Then his lips are on your inner thighs and your hand is in his hair and all you can do is moan, one word waiting and ready at the tip of your tongue but not falling off of it.

You watch through half lidded eyes as Adams eyes lock on your cunt, nod fervently when his gaze meets yours and his head tilts in the asking.

His tongue finds your clit and he moves one finger, slowly, into your hole as his lips follow his tongue. You turn your head and moan into the pillow in an effort to silence yourself, but the noise level at which the moan sits is still so obscene that Adam chuckles, shaking his head as his left arm slips under your thigh and his hand finds purchase at your chest.

Adams tongue moves around your clit in evenly paced circles, finger moving at a calculated pace as he adds another. Adams fingers curl around your g-spot once every fifteen-ish seconds, and every time your moans get louder because of the action, Adam laughs a little and presses his tongue flat against your clit.

Adam has you pushed to your orgasm in fifteen minutes. You barely have time to warn him before you're coming over his mouth, chin, and his hand, but Adam hardly cares. He only licks his fingers to clean them and juts his tongue out to run it over his lips, all while holding your gaze.

And then he's kissing you and you're tasting yourself, humming into the kiss as Adam reaches one arm out and fumbles for the nightstand in search of another condom.

Adam gets it and rips it open, sliding it onto his length and motioning for you to get on your knees and turn around. You do as he says and Adam slowly slides into you, the both of you moaning slightly as he bottoms out.

Adam waits a minute for you to adjust to him, and once you have he starts thrusting. He sets an even, quick pace and moves a hand to your clit, moaning as you lean back and press your back against his front.

Adams lips find a spot in the space between your neck and shoulder, and every last one of the sounds you make spurs him on. His moans are low, typically comorbid with yours, and they come in between the praise he manages to mumble out as he moves and you start moving back onto him.

"So good," he mutters, biting gently against your shoulder. "Fuck--"

You moan in response, unable to form any coherent thought other than Adams name.

"Adam," you whisper as the pace at which Adams finger touches your clit increases. "Adam--"

You feel him smile against your skin, a cocky grin taking up his face.

"Yes, baby?" He asks, moaning as you clench around him. "Gonna use your words for me, mm?"

"Adam," it's the only word that comes to mind right now, though it'll be one of ten, at best, once he's pushed you to orgasm again.

"Adam, oh--" You moan as he snaps his hips up into you.

Adam keeps the pace he's set and it's not long before you're moaning loudly as Adams lips and tongue suck a hickey into the space where your neck meets your shoulder, your release occurring just seconds before his own, before he's a moaning mess as he thrusts into you through the aftershocks.

Adam pulls out and lays you back onto the bed before rolling the condom off and tossing it into the trash.

The cycle continues that way until you find yourselves nearing one in the morning. Your lips are wet with your own saliva after you've pulled off of Adams length and he's being sweet, your face in his hands as you start moving to sit on the bed.

"One more for me, baby," he says. In eight hours, you've come more than eight times, your legs are basically jelly, and all you have on your mind is Adam. "Just one more, mm? Then I'll run us a bath and we can just relax, I promise. Aftercare god, remember?" He laughs a little at the tail end of his sentence, cringing at himself a little bit.

And you're nodding, smiling at Adam as his lips find your inner thighs and you're blissed out on post-orgasm euphoria--Adam had let you touch yourself while sucking his dick, and you'd come over your hand as he shot his load into your mouth, which you'd agreed to let him do--and it's fifteen minutes til one and Adams lips against your thighs is absolutely amazing.

And then his lips and tongue go to your cunt, and you're moaning as your thighs wrap around his head, which leads to him laughing and squeezing your hips.

And Adam eats you out carefully, slowly, moaning as he does so. He's taking his time with you because you're blissed out and will definitively need to be easy on yourself in terms of walking after all that's been done. He's moaning, tongue moving through your folds in a way that feels incredible to both you and him, and his lips find your clit as he moves to start fingering you.

Adam sets a good pace, quick but not too quick, and curls his fingers at your g-spot with every thrust. You're moaning loudly despite the time and Adam is loving it, and then you're coming on his lips and his tongue and Adam is licking it off your cunt and his lips with a focused precision.

Then Adam is getting up, pressing a kiss to your forehead and telling you he'll be back in a few minutes. He tells you he loves you but doesn't expect a response--you're absolutely too blissed out to say much of anything, and he loves it because it's the first time in eight months where you've looked so relaxed, the first time in eight months where you've felt it.

Your eyes close as Adam leaves your shared bedroom, and you hear him starting up a bath. You smile to yourself, pressing your cheek against the pillow, having a brief, floaty thought of I am so lucky before Adam comes into the room again, smile on his clean face.

He kisses your eyelids, hands finding and interlacing themselves with yours.

"C'mon," he says. "I've run us a bath, baby. Gonna relax your legs, which are definitely sore by this point."

And then your eyes are opening and he's helping you stand as he tells you how much he loves you and how amazing you were during the session, and his lips are against your forehead in a kiss.

You're mostly quiet as Adam leads you to the bathroom, humming as you get into the tub with him.

You press your chin against Adams shoulder and in the next few minutes, you're still tired but the water is still hot and you're starting to form coherent thoughts again.

"Thank you," you whisper, pressing a kiss to Adams wet shoulder. He hums, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"For what?" Adam asks.

"For the last nine hours," you say. "For making me forget about work stress and for the sex."

Adam laughs, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "The sex was enjoyable for both parties, then," he says. "And--you're welcome, but you don't need to thank me. Just wanted to help you de-stress a little, and I'm glad I could do that."

You're in the bath together for thirty-ish minutes after that, and you let Adam wash your hair as he peppers your hickied neck with kisses and his hands run along your biceps. You wash his, and you spend the time waiting for the conditioner to set talking about your plans for the day as the day has turned.

Adam intends to let you sleep in and to make breakfast, and you intend to at least move from the bedroom to the living room after you've woken up so that you can read from the comfort of your couch.

You get out of the bath and, because your legs are still pretty sore, have barely any choice but to let Adam help you back to your room and sit on the bed as Adam gets dressed and grabs you clothes.

You get dressed into a pair of black boxers--they, Adam decides, will be comfier than sweatpants--and a hoodie Adam had during his baggy clothes phase that's baggy on you, too, and covers two thirds of your thigh before your knee amidst laughter and kisses that you share in the relative dark.

You and Adam end up going to sleep on the couch anyway so as to avoid halfhearted fighting about who sleeps on the wet spot on the bed from the sweat emitted during sex, curled up in each others arms with a thick, warm and fuzzy blanket covering you both up to your shoulders.

#adam stanheight #adam faulkner-stanheight #adam stanheight x reader #adam faulkner-stanheight x reader #saw 2004

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actuallysaiyan · 1 year

Text

What Makes Love The Exception(Prince!Vegeta x Fem!Saiyan!Reader)

Warnings: Mentions of battling, mentions of sending gory gifts, lots of fluff, Vegeta being Vegeta, Planet Vegeta AU, marriage proposals, kissing Word count: 2.4k Pairings: Prince!Vegeta x Fem!Saiyan!Reader A/N: Here it is, something I've been working on for a few weeks now(maybe even months?) This is for my dear friend @dreadsuitsamus, who writes some of the best content I've ever read in my life! And consider this something for the very special Saiyan Day!

You’re left puzzled when bouquets of flowers and roses are dropped off on your doorstep day after day. Longing words written in ink on beautiful cards with declarations of love. The fanciest perfumes are what start appearing after that. The gifts just keep escalating, and you aren’t even really sure what to make of it. Then the heads of enemies start appearing, and you can’t help but feel a little impressed by the effort being put into this.

Your friends are starting to tease you about your secret admirer. You go on missions, long and far away from your home planet, and you think about what you might come home to. It’s all the same when you come home, but it just progresses to bigger and better things. You’re starting to get the idea that whoever this is, they are very serious about their crush on you. They might even love you, and you aren’t even sure who it is. But that’s what keeps the mystery going for you and the thrill of it all becomes so exciting.

You think about your potential suitors. Not many of the Saiyans on this planet genuinely interest you, so you begin to think about how just having the secret admirer is the fun part. Maybe that’s all it will ever be, and you begin to think about how that’s fun in its own way.

On the other side of things, Vegeta is practically tearing his hair out of his head. How could these gifts not be working? Surely, you should know by now that it’s him sending you all of this. No other Saiyan could even dream of even being able to afford any of this stuff. Maybe some of the nobles could have afforded the few waves of gifts, but now you were being lavished with thousands of dollars worth of luxurious gifts. He’s not even sure how to approach you. You’ve been the object of his desire for so long.

He spends countless hours pacing in his office inside the palace. How could you not know it’s him? After all this time, you should be smart enough to suss him out. He’s literally the prince of all Saiyans. Ever since the moment he’s laid eyes on you, he’s been completely head over heels with you. Despite your sweet nature, you are one of the strongest Saiyans there is besides him. You train so diligently, making you the envy of very many on this planet. You show kindness to those who are most deserving, but you aren’t afraid of letting those who are undeserving see the power that you hold.

The more he thinks of you, the more desperate he becomes. How will he get you to see that the two of you belong together? It’s increasingly maddening for him, and he spends so much time training and fighting to try and get you off his mind. All the while, you have hardly any clue that it’s actually him. Part of you wants to find whoever is gifting this all to you and maybe take them out on a date, but the thrill of not knowing is sincerely what you’re enjoying.

Days and weeks go by, and soon it’s been two months since the first gift arrived on your doorstep. The gifts don’t stop coming, and their extravagance keeps ameliorating with the time. Now you have an idea that it has to be someone noble. You wrack your brain trying to come up with the most potential person, and it shocks you when you realize it could be nobody but the prince. Your cheeks flush, and you know you can’t just confront him about all of this.

Meanwhile, Vegeta is dying waiting for you. He needs to make a more direct move at this point, but he’s panicking. He isn't much for feelings and emotions. Vegeta ponders what he might actually say to you as opposed to giving you all these gifts. Vegeta isn’t sure how much longer he can keep doing this. It’s driving him crazy.

Things change when you’re instructed to go on a mission with him, Nappa and Raditz. You’re more than excited to prove yourself to the prince and his team. But also you’re thrilled to know that you might get the scoop on what’s going on with all these gifts you’ve been receiving and if they actually are coming from Vegeta. After all, you’re certain that nobody else could afford to keep sending all these lavish gifts to you for months. Vegeta seemed to be the perfect candidate in your mind. Something about that really troubled you. You never really thought of yourself as someone special enough to garner the attention of the prince of your entire planet.

Despite usually taking pods to go on a mission, the team opts for a ship from the royal fleet. You’ve never been on any ship of this caliber, so you are most impressed and very giddy. Secretly, Vegeta takes a lot of pleasure in seeing you react to it like this.

Nappa doesn’t chastise the prince, but Raditz takes great pleasure in teasing him once you’re all on board. As Nappa takes the liberty to show you around the ship, Raditz gleefully pokes fun at the lovesick Vegeta.

“Awhhh, is our widdle prince in love?” Raditz teases, elbowing Vegeta.

With a glare so forceful it could bore a hole in Raditz’ head, Vegeta growls a warning growl. Raditz raises his hands in defense, and then shrugs his shoulders. Vegeta is very displeased with how this is going already.

“I am NOT in love nor am I “widdle”. Now shut up, you’re giving me a headache!”

Raditz takes this as his cue to stop, he’ll poke more fun later, even if he knows it’ll earn him even more glares and even some violence. But that’s the Saiyan way of life. Knowing when and how to pick your battles and sometimes realizing your battles are to tease the prince.

The days go by fairly well with you on board the royal ship. Vegeta keeps his distance, which causes you to believe he doesn’t actually like you. You wonder if maybe it wasn’t him sending the gifts. You wonder if maybe you’ve read this situation completely wrong. Either way, now you have to go on this mission with them.

Once you’ve all reached the planet that you were meant to get intel from, you noticed somewhat of a shift in their behavior. Raditz was cockier, Nappa seemed annoyed but Vegeta was eyeing you even more. He seemed almost interested in getting to know how you handled yourself in battle. All four of you soon realized that you were getting into a pretty intense battle.

The inhabitants of this planet weren’t going down without a fight. They were prepared to give their lives to protect their home planet. Something you found admirable and relatable, despite the fact that you were meant to rough these people up and possibly end them to gather the intel you needed. These feelings are what caused you to end up in the medical bay of the royal ship.

You had fought valiantly but you underestimated how strong your enemies were. You collapsed on the battlefield after being wounded in your side and your chest. It was Vegeta who found you and he carried you back to the royal ship. He thought he had lost you for good.

You wake up a few days later, sore and bandaged. You had thought you had died and so did Vegeta. He was so prepared to leave this world along with you. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. You truly are the love of his life, and though he may not be able to articulate it, he knows that he adores you.

He is sitting on a chair near your medical bed. Tubes and wires come from your pitiful form. Vegeta grunts before sitting up straight. He notices you awake and he gasps in surprise. This quickly turns into a disappointed frown as he marches towards you. You cower a bit at his intimidating form.

“So, you’re finally awake.” He grumbles. “PIty considering I’d rather you not be wasting medical resources.” He curses himself for being so callous.

You’re surprised at his behavior, but you know that’s just how the prince can be sometimes. “Prince Vegeta, please let me apol—”

“Save your apologies for someone who cares! I’m sending you home.”

Tears well up in your eyes. You try to hide them from him but he scoffs when he notices them. Your heart aches at the notion of disappointing your prince. The last thing you wanted to do was make the Saiyan you were falling for disappointed. He was becoming so important to you, even past the point of just being your prince.

He leaves you to cry, hiding his own tears. For days, he worried you had died for such a stupid cause. And in his typical prince Vegeta fashion, he couldn’t even tell you how much he cared for you or how happy he was that you were still alive. He wanted you home safe for now. He would not be sending you back into battle as he feared the worst for you.

You were sent back home in the royal ship while Vegeta, Raditz and Nappa took pods to the planet to finish the mission. In the time it took to return home, Vegeta had the realization that if he didn’t confess to you, he would lose you. If not through intense battle then maybe through a new suitor. It just didn’t sit right with him. After all this time of sending you these gifts and trying to woo you, he wouldn’t lose you again.

And as you healed and the Saiyans returned home, you began to see one of your teammates in a new light…

Raditz came to you as soon as he got home. When he returned, he regalled you with tales of the battle after you were wounded. He tried to embellish lots of details about himself, but he realized you were so much more interested in Vegeta. Still, despite Raditz’ cocky and pompous behavior, he grew on you eventually. He made you laugh and slowly, he was charming you.

As months went by, you and Raditz grew closer. And he noticed that despite you becoming good friends with him, you still longed for the prince. Often you’d ask Raditz about the prince, and yet you never really showed Raditz the proper attention he was seeking. When he tried to make your relationship official(much to Vegeta’s dismay), you had to decline it.

“I gotta admit, I’m a little hurt.” Raditz says with a sigh. “But I know you’re in love with Vegeta.”

You blush, “W-was I that obvious?”

Raditz laughs, “I’ll admit something to you. Vegeta was the one who was sending you all those gifts. I think he meant it as a Saiyan marriage proposal, especially with the heads of your enemies.”

This is all you need to request a formal meeting with the prince. It’s granted almost immediately. Both of you are nervous about seeing each other again since the mission, but both of you are nervous in such different ways. Vegeta thinks you’re going to ask to never be put on a mission with him, and you’re worried he’s not going to see you in the same way he did before.

The day of the meeting, you dress in your most beautiful gown. You do your makeup and pin up your hair. These are things you don’t usually do most days, but you know that you should look your best when accepting a marriage proposal. It makes you feel so giddy inside, despite the previous nervousness.

Once you arrive at the throne room doors, you’re greeted by the royal guards. They let you in, and you make your way towards Prince Vegeta. He’s sitting on his throne, and he looks so lost in thought. But when he spots you, his breath hitches in his throat. He’s never seen anyone look so beautiful. You’re completely breathtaking.

“Let’s go somewhere more private,” He suggests to you.

You agree and he escorts you out into the royal gardens. It’s a bit of a breezy day out, but it’s so beautiful in the gardens. The smell of flowers permeates the air. You can’t help but think that this is the perfect setting to accepting his marriage proposal.

While the two of you walk through the rows of exotic and domestic plants and flowers, Vegeta begins losing his nerve. He’s not sure what to make of all of this. But he knows it feels so good to have your little hand clasped with his. Your fingers are intertwined with his, and you keep smiling at him.

“I know it was you, Prince Vegeta.”

He gasps, “W-what do you mean?”

You smile sweetly, “I know it was you who sent me all those gifts. I’m very touched by your generosity.”’

Prince Vegeta is without words. He’s been so focused on giving you the gifts as a means to woo you and romance you. He’s never been good with words. It’s the easiest way for him to let you know that he loves you. And now that you know it was him, he worries you might not return his feelings. You surprise him by turning to face him and you wrap your arms around his neck. He freezes, but he doesn’t pull away from you.

“I accept,” You simply state.

“You accept?” He questions.

You giggle and kiss his lips. “That was your attempt at a Saiyan marriage proposal, right?”

With his cheeks burning and his heart racing, Prince Vegeta sees that you understand the intentions of his gifts. He wants to say something about your wording of the phrase, considering it wasn’t an attempt. It was a true way of asking you to be his wife. But he knows he shouldn’t be harsh with you.

“Correct,” he responds and he kisses you back.

The wind picks up, scattering flower petals all around you. It’s so romantic out here. You know that you’re not making a mistake at all. Prince Vegeta was your savior, your lover. You know he’d be able to treat you right. You both smile at one another sweetly.

“I love you, Prince Vegeta.”

He smirks, “And I love you.”

#bacon.writes #vegeta x reader #vegeta x fem!reader #vegeta x you #vegeta x y/n #prince!vegeta #prince!vegeta x you #planet vegeta au #saiyan!reader #vegeta x saiyan!reader #dragon ball #dragon ball fanfiction #dragon ball z fanfiction #saiyan day

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silver-gm · 1 month

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Two people have just accused me of using generative AI to write my latest work.

I need someone else's eyes on this situation, because I'm not sure what to do.

Like a lot of people, I thoroughly enjoy CRPG party banter. So I started something of an unoffical ongoing project where I take two CRPGs I like, and write what the party banter would be like if there was a crossover. A few days ago, I published my latest work in that project, featuring Dragon Age Origins and Pillars Of Eternity. It was a long work months in the making, with over 15k words total, and it took me a lot of effort.

Today I wake up to two comments.

"Sudowrite AI strikes again, sucking the life out of yet another story."

"KoboldAI could learn a thing or two about creativity. This is just lazy."

I wasn't really sure this was my best work, I'm a little less familiar with Dragon Age compared to other CRPGs, and it's been a while since I've played Pillars Of Eternity. But I put a lot of work into my writing, and I was still proud of what I'd written. Reading those comments, implying that my work lacks life and creativity, hurts. Badly. And I'm not sure what to do.

On the one hand, I empathize with concerns about AI generated content in sites like this. There's every chance these accusations were made in good faith, in which case ignoring or retaliating against them would cost me a chance for constructive discussion. I do at least have some evidence to suggest my work isn't AI generated in that my first works in my project are timestamped years before the advent of AI.

On the other hand, both of those comments came from guests, and didn't directly refer to anything I'd written, so the chance they came from trolls is also very real, in which case... I'm still not sure what to do. Most people say to simply not engage them, but I still wonder if that's the most productive approach. I'm considering enacting a policy on my work that only registered users can comment, but knowing how long it takes for a user to get registered, I'm not sure I want to deny more people the chance to engage.

I'm also concerned about the quality of my work. Of course I think it's good, but I'm obviously biased. I want my work to be the best it can be, and sometimes that means accepting criticism. If my work really lacks creativity, I want to know so I can improve.

So, if anyone has a moment, I'd appreciate them having a look at my work and the comments, or suggesting what I should do. I'm at something of a loss.

#pillars of eternity #dragon age #dragon age origins #fanfiction #writing

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askthefamous8 · 28 days

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Seeing how developed and deep this AU is and your animations on Youtube. I can only imagine how wonderful could it be to make an animation series about it.

Have you ever think about doing that in the future? Or maybe a fanfiction?

I think it could be a masterpiece ☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*

(Also i'm a huge fan of this AU ;w;)

Mannn that's basically the ultimate fantasy lol. But there wouldn't be a very big audience- at all- and also not a very profitable venture since it would be, at best, considered a parody of copyrighted material. I'd have to win a huge lottery jackpot so I could hire people to help me. And I say a huge jackpot because if I did get a sudden influx of money I'd rather put it towards my original project Blot

I've written some fan fiction in the past but it's been a long time, I don't have a lot of confidence in my writing. Somehow even less my art. But also fan fiction isn't as great for like, little asks and stuff so just by nature this blog demands more art than it does prose

I do want to make more AtF8 animations on the same scale I've done in the past. The more comments/attention the videos I've already posted get, the more I can see people want to see more, so, yknow. Squeaky wheel gets the grease and all that

Anyway... thank you very much for the kind words, I'm glad you like my AU so much :> And it's always nice to hear someone appreciates the depth I put into it. I know I say this to every nice comment but each one really does mean a lot to me

#sleepy speaks #ask #thefluffyrailway official

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thestupidhelmet · 4 months

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I know we talk about Jackie and Eric being a thing in fanfiction. But how much of a game changer would it have been if it happened in real life? How would casual fans take to a J/E romance? Would ratings go up, or down?

This answer went far beyond the scope of the question. 😄

When the show originally aired, down. ⬇️ The majority of the fanbase shipped Eric/Donna and Jackie/Hyde while Eric/Jackie shippers were fringe.

Today, with new generations of fans -- still down but, perhaps, slightly less. The majority of fans still ship Eric/Donna and Jackie/Hyde. But Jackie/Eric shippers have increased and are more active in fandom.

J/H shippers have been and are far more active in making fanworks (fanfic, .gifsets, art, etc.) than Eric/Donna fans, but that could be due to Eric and Donna being together in some romantic aspect since "That '70S Pilot" (1x01) and are ultimately endgame in the series finale.

In contrast, T7S fans recognized the chemistry between Jackie and Hyde as early as "The Keg" (1x06) and began shipping them around then. Fanfic followed to explore the romantic possibilities. "The Best Christmas Ever" (1x12), for example, establishes Jackie experiences some kind of sexual attraction toward Hyde (however minor). "Ski Trip" (1x13) establishes Jackie's emotional connection to Hyde (however minor).

And "Prom Night" (1x19) blows the doors open for Jackie and Hyde. Recognizing the other's humanity overrides their antagonism. They find each other aesthetically appealing. Jackie trusts Hyde when she's most vulnerable e and isn't let down. In fact, he goes above and beyond -- to the point of reconciling her and Kelso despite in previous episodes trying to convince Kelso to drop her. Hyde exhibits significant empathy toward Jackie, and the ship was sea-worthy.

Eric and Jackie canonically treat each other like bickering siblings who insult each other (to each other's face amd behind the other's back). Jackie is sexually and aesthetically repulsed by Eric, and Eric is repulsed by Jackie's personality.

Their few times bonding stems from Eric's compassion for people in general, Jackie being obsessed with getting married and enjoying the shopping process, and the writers wanting to get a laugh from the audience.

For an Eric and Jackie romance to work canonically, the writers would have to develop and substantiate the changes in their characters over half a season of episodes, at least. Thirteen episodes (T7S aired back when shows had seasons of 26 episodes, split into thirteen for the fall/winter and spring/early summer halves of a season.)

That doesn't mean fanfic writers can't and haven't accomplished the above in their stories. But a romantic Eric/Jackie pairing simply isn't built into the show in any way.

Over the years, I've gone from finding the ship physically repulsive (my stomach actually tensed in an unpleasant manner 😅) to enjoyable in a well-written fanfic. Just because a relationship ship isn't show!canon doesn't mean it can't work if it's written well in fanfic. By that same token, well-written fanfic doesn't inject canonicity into the show. It might project it onto the show, but it can't create what doesn't exist.

Interestingly, the potential for a Jackie/Fez romantic relationship is built into the show (long before the OOC season 8). Their pairing in fanfic can be considered following show!canon.

I don't ship Jackie/Fez at all romantically, but I can't dismiss what's in the show. Whereas I enjoy the Eric/Jackie ship in specific cases, but the show well-establishes their romantic (and sexual) incompatibility.

For more about Jackie and Fez's relationship on T7S, check out the following meta:

#that 70s show #that '70s show #jackie x hyde #jackie x eric #jackie burkhart #ask #anon #my meta #my essay #meta #essay

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softmick · 6 months

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was tagged to answer @callivich's questions by @jrooc and @lingy910y! thank you thank you 🙏 also i got rambly and nsfw please forgive me.

What’s a fic you’ve read more than once? we drag ourselves hand over hand by jesuisgourde. i read it for the first time pretty recently and i've read it at least five or six times since. there's untagged major character death, okay? there’s uncertainty and hope and grief and anger. it is well written and feels authentic. there’s also sweetness and family and love. it is Fucking Sad. it is painful. but it’s so worth it! no one needs to know how many times i've read the taming of mickey milkovich by @whatthebodygraspsnot it's between me and god. but if you’re into upset mickey acting out and ian being rough and sweet all at the same time and setting things straight and hot bjs, you should also read it. and i have only indecent things to say about and i'm your warm receiver by @metalheadmickey FAVE. i think i commented something about secondhand subspace and i am not kidding. it does things to me.

also cooperative gameplay by grayola. i've only read it twice but i'm new here and it's long so it feels like a thing.

What’s a gifset you always have to reblog? you may have noticed i will always reblog mickey's brown sweater. haters are WRONG. and the 5x10 dugouts scene because bloody kisses are hot and i love fictional violence. and also that scene in the hallway with that fucking purple robe. i can't remember the episode but it’s the scene where ian looks like he's gonna devour mickey and mickey is just having the time of his life.

What’s a headcanon you can’t stop thinking about? thinking about mickey and the gallaghers all the time. mickey and carl are besties and they do the dumbest, shadiest shit together. i think they like exploding things and playing with fire and pulling off semi-dangerous pranks. they love to shoot together (ian isn't allowed to come because he's better than they are). they have the same taste in video games and they are insufferably competitive. they're both the biggest softies with animals (the whole cat thing in s1 never happened in this house). actually they're both just huge softies in general. like they're all family oriented but i think lip tried to impose his will cause he thinks he knows best and will try to Teach Lessons. and debbie struggles sometimes because her siblings have been assholes to her at times and i think she might want to reciprocate sometimes. and ian is torn between finally prioritizing himself and mickey sometimes. but i think carl and mickey are just no questions asked generous and showing tf up regardless of how they feel about a situation because that's what family does. and also they are chaos uncles and don't even try to hide it. they're giving the kids sweets at all hours and toy guns and encouraging rough play. when the kids are teens they're the ones giving them their first beers and telling them they're overpaying for weed. they're gonna be on speeddial to pick them up from parties and the police station. i also think that when carl leaves policing (because just no) and ian finds what makes him happy, carl joins mickey in security. mickey and debbie are legit close friends. mickey doesn't like to talk to mandy about his relationship b/c she always takes ian's side or makes assumptions about mickey because of their past. but debbie is a great sounding board and i think mickey is good for her too. they're honest with each other in a very matter-of-fact way. mickey appreciates having someone besides ian really consider him. debbie likes being treated like a capable adult. and mickey respects her and takes an interest in her job. and they both feel strongly about self-advocating, ie not taking any shit. whatever weirdness the gallaghers had about debbie's sexuality mickey DOES NOT. i think they go out to gay bars together sans ian and have beers. and mickey will tease debbie about her taste in women but also be her wingman. he’s surprisingly good at it and can actually pick out good matches for her. they tag team planning family events and eventually rope in tammi. they make the holidays so nice and fun and start new traditions.

What’s a fanart you love looking at? literally anything from @darthvaders-wife. i went to patreon for her uncensored kinktober stuff but her notting hill comic is so good i cry. also really enjoying @gallavichonly's style esp their mickey. the energy is just perfect! and i think about @harukanaaaa's baby ian often. he's so precious.

What’s something you’ve discovered since entering this fandom? A new trope you love? A different analysis of the show? Something else? 🐙. shameless gave me so many Disappointments and Sorrows that it's taken my fandom consumption to new lows. in a good way! gallavich's canon development is so goddamn tragic that fic writers can put them in any hurt/comfort/sick/angsty/death situation and i will enjoy it and ask for more.

What’s an underrated trope or concept you’d like to see more of? mickey's floopy hair and million layers and cutoff shirts and his whole Deal immediately read so queer to me. it may just be me. i want his aesthetic. anyway i love gnc/trans mickey. also aging, hairier, and/or chubby husbands. i love cam's abs and noel's tiny waist as much as the next guy but sometimes i want ian and mickey's bodies to be as soft as their hearts. they're so horny for each other i just think they'd both be into there being more flesh to grab and bite. and i want graying hair and wrinkles and glasses and sex that's maybe less acrobatic but just gets nastier and more intimate. also i need ian 'i love smells' gallagher to drag his face through mickey's sweaty armpits more often and give mickey chest hair cause ian loves rubbing against that too. and i want mickey pulling on ian's beard and playing with his leg hair. idk i'm just thinking about their soft bellies and sweat-matted happy trails rubbing together. look i'm a little worked up about them and perpetually horny. someone should stop me because i am embarrassing!! also we need more fisting. as much as we love ian's hands, mickey loves them more and he is not scared. put one inside him.

What’s a plot hole you wish had been answered or resolved? why didn't we get them dealing with 3x06? what happened to yevgeny? was he mickey's or not? and regardless, how did mickey and ian deal with losing him? why'd they do svet so dirty? she just wanted stability and family and honestly i think svet+gallavich and svet+kev and v were both promising dynamics. hated the way they wrote fiona out. and then never mentioned her? i wanted more gallagher siblings screen time and i specifically mean ian, debbie, carl, and liam. i still don't understand what happened with the house. carl's money paid for it but in fiona's name. then she gave it to debbie? lip couldn't have sold it no matter who sided with him so what was the point of that storyline? also s10-11 were all over the place tonally.

#anyway... that's enough from me #BYE #tag games #gallavich

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quaranmine · 4 months

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How do you go about writing mysteries? Like how your firewatch one has its slow drip of discoveries and backstories and stuff. I keep getting totally lost, cuz I already know my endings, and keep forgetting the audience doesnt and shouldnt know the same. Mysteries are fun. They are also the hardest thing ive ever tried to write.

Honestly, mysteries are SO hard. I don't really know how to write them well either. And your ask honestly surprised me some, because up until this point I have never really considered my AU to succeed as a mystery. There is some legitimate mystery in the story (as to where Mumbo is) but, as it becomes clear in chapter 10 I think, most of the things about the Forest Service, Grian's conspiratorial thinking, and finding someone to blame are just set dressing. Or, to give myself more credit, more character study than reality. Something I've had written in the outline since day one is "Is this a mystery, or is Grian just convinced it's a mystery?" Half of the mystery in the story is finding out what actually happened, and half of the mystery is actually just a character study on Grian's grief and thought processes.

I going to put the rest under a cut, it gets kind of long. I can probably talk about my AU forever honestly. And if anyone reading this isn't caught up to at least chapter 10 this will spoil things:

But anyway. I think the best advice I have is to work backwards. You say you already know your ending so it seems like you're doing that already. I knew from the moment I started working on the story how it was going to end, so working backwards from that is a matter of arranging things to be in the places you want them. Having a complete outline also helps because that's what helped me create that "slow drip of discoveries and backstories" because I wanted to reveal things at a relatively steady pace. As for forgetting that your audience doesn't know things...idk I just try to focus super hard on what has/hasn't been revealed and where everybody's povs are. I think that just becomes a learned thing. I don't just know more than the audience, I know more than all the characters too, and I have to make sure they all operate on exactly what they currently know. I think rereading your already-done work as you go helps to refresh you on this.

Another hard thing about mysteries is like....trusting the audience to make connections. I think that I often overplay my hand and spell things out because I am inexperienced in knowing where to draw the line. For this AU, I didn't really intend it to have any big twist ending. I wanted the truth to be telegraphed as the audience uses their own logic to realize that Grian's POV is biased. And even though I haven't released chapter 11 and 12 yet, I....think I succeeded? Based on the difference in comments from chapter 1 to chapter 10, I think most of my readers are where I want them to be. But I didn't know that until I actually released the chapters. Anyway, I think the surprise is less about what the answer is and more about how it all goes down.

In terms of backstories, Firewatch AU has an almost parallel "before" section. There is never a "flashback" to before Mumbo disappeared. The first scene of the story is the ground zero and we never go before that. So the timeline of the story is always "contained" despite skipping around sometimes? Over the course of the fic I slowly introduce scenes that eventually lead us into exactly how Grian got here in the present-day plot. Pretty much all the "before" sections emphasize one way or another that Grian has been struggling.

I guess I can summarize my intentions with the chapters? There's a specific structure to them and their purpose (if I could help it.) Sometimes I feel like I have this story structured within an inch of its life, which is one reason that I have been able to post as I go without needing to make any retroactive changes to already done chapters.

Chapter one: establishes the central problem in the story, introduces the main characters to each other, and introduces Grian's goals. Honestly, I think this is a great first chapter since it introduces everything it needs to. It swaps time periods more than any other one but that is because I specifically modeled it to reflect the intro of the game Firewatch.

Chapter two: introduces fire as a major plot element, and serves as character development and relationship development between Scar and Grian. Also introduces more of Grian's grief, his thoughts about search and rescue, and specifically (vitally, to the plot) allows Scar see just a glimpse of what's happening with Grian that Grian isn't telling him.

Chapter three: mostly vital character development (especially for Scar) and relationship development; I've got to set them up as becoming friends before the big stuff kicks in. also, fire lookout knowledge!

Chapter four: first big clue (found by chance, not by Grian, which sort of emphasizes the idea of things being out of anyone's control that comes up in the narrative a lot.) Bigger spotlight on Grian's emotions (understatement of the year.) Scar gets officially looped into the Real Story. From this point on the plot progresses relatively regularly.

Chapter five: more character development, and another backstory hint about Scar. also, now that Scar is looped in, he gets to contribute information to the plot by bringing the newest clue (that builds off the information revealed in chapter four) (hey grian, it turns out when you communicate to people they can assist you)

Chapter six: this chapter is mostly a flashback section, which i wanted to avoid in chapters but IIRC it was simply too long to include with chapter five. This section with Pearl serves to emphasize a few different self-destructive tendencies Grian has (isolation, his living space, his financial situation, etc.) And finally, more information Scar gives him since he has contacts from working there so long. Also, from here on out Grian's conspiratorial thinking grows.

-> side note, one part of this story being a mystery that was difficult was that like. without internet research being available in the 80s, most "detective" actions would naturally involve talking to people, interviewing, looking at documents, etc. but since grian is Alone, in the middle of the Wilderness, he has none of that. it's, uh, difficult to introduce clues when the main character has little ability to find them. I had to sit down and be like, realistically HOW can he solve this without just wandering around in the woods endlessly? It's not a fun story if all he does is hike around the forest. In the game Firewatch, that sort of worked, but that's because you're controlling Henry. It doesn't translate well to reading. But with Grian entirely on his own, exploring the forest is the only "tool" he has. So Scar is a useful addition since he actually knows people to talk to that Grian doesn't and can move things forward by bringing more information to the table. But I have to proceed carefully to ensure he isn't just a deus ex machina for any hard parts of the plot. Scar talking to someone off-screen can't solve every problem in the story or else it's a bad story.

Chapter seven: some conflict/roadblocks introduced, because Scar cannot just endlessly poke around and find information without repercussions. also, the govt loooooves to make information available only to specific people. you can and will get slapped on the wrist if you consistently overstep the boundaries of your job. also, i need Grian to contribue his own piece to solving the mystery without Scar, so with his boots-on-the ground he finds the trail Mumbo took to get to from point A to point B. He gets a dangerous idea that will later escalate the plot closer to the climax, since we're officially in the second half of the story. There's a flashback that is purposefully the first part of the story so far to have someone outright state they think Mumbo is dead (and of course it's Jimmy.) Ends with more character development for Scar.

Chapter eight: WOOOO SCAR CHAPTER! but not before some egregiously obvious foreshadowing and a distinct reminder that this is a story about fire. i break from my deep character pov for the first time just to give the readers some scientific and historical background. we finally learn more about Scar, which should in theory retroactively piece together why he specifically wants to help Grian so much: because he sees his own experiences reflected in what Grian is living through now. also, since so much of this story is Grian isolating himself and pushing help away, it is vital for him to be shown someone else Does understand him

Chapter nine: beginning of the end pt 1 of 3. we re-center fire as a risk in the story again. grian commits a few crimes, because his main motivation this whole time has been information. and he simply can't get that information sitting in a tower by himself in the woods. he is desperate to find puzzle pieces to slot together so that everything makes sense. this is also the height of his conspiratorial thinking and there's a big disconnect between how he views other people, and their actual actions. I initially didn't want the story to "leave" its main setting, I wanted it to be a bottle. But that just didn't work in practice when plotting this out.

Chapter ten: beginning of the end pt 2 of 3, and we bring the flashback scenes full circle by including grian's decision to become a lookout in the same chapter we learns he gets fired. a somewhat anti-climactic reveal of there not being all that much conspirarcy to Mumbo's disappearance, in a way that hopefully is not disappointing since hopefully everyone reading realizes Why grian was convinced of this and Why he's wrong. woooo fire again! the return of the mystical bike location that was introduced early in the plot! grian finally being forced to reckon with things he's been avoiding thinking about all story! a fallout between our beloved main characters at the 11th hour!

Chapter eleven and twelve: ???? coming soon but you can guarantee they'll deal with the loose ends here since this story is standalone in its plot

So, idk if that type of analytical breakdown is useful to you. But you can kind of see how my plot was guided by the constraints on my narrative--a lot of my choices involved either needing different characters to help grian, or needing grian to go somewhere else. but i constantly wanted to make sure that it made sense for Scar to help Grian, that Scar never overstepped his place in the narrative by being "all-knowing", and that all of Grian's decisions are driven, even to the point of Problems, by his grief. Also, to kickstart the plot, I needed at least one major shake-up to happen (in this story, finding the bike) or else Grian probably would have been just as doomed as everyone else to look in the wrong places. Since it's more or less a cold case, a breakthrough needed to happen to move things forward. So I suppose what I needed was: first, to know the ending I needed to get to; second, to know where I was starting; and third, to provide at least one major clue to give the characters an opportunity to unravel the rest.

Also, this is less about mysteries and more about characterization, but when writing Grian I put Mumbo at the highest priority in all situations. This means he is willing to tank his financial situation, his jobs, his relationships with his friends, and even commit crimes for Mumbo. He consistently does not consider his own future when making decisions. He's reactive and more than willing to take things to the extreme, which I think makes him honestly more fun to write about. I think his Drive pushes the story even when there's just dialogue sitting in a fire tower. One thing I never wanted to do in this story was soften characters' emotions or actions into something "easier."

anyway, this is a story about trying to find logic in places where there is none, coping badly and learning to cope, accepting support from others, grief, and finding closure <333 thank you for your ask it was very sweet to be asked for advice and hopefully SOMETHING in this essay helps <333

#twirls hair hiiiiiiii #i can analyze like every bit of this au like an english assignment u have no clue #i think uhhhh half my enjoyment in writing is not just writing but engaging in analysis of things. it is Enrichment for me #there's so much to talk about with the theming in this story honestly. i do A LOT of things on purpose in this fic.#this story is not gonna join the ranks of the Literary Greats but it is my first shot at trying to do many things and i've enjoyed it a lot #from here on out any other story i write (that i take as seriously as this) will just continue to get better because i learned a lot here #hc_firewatch_au #quara asks

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