#and also have been spending months trying to figure out how to draw them

[cryptid-muffin]

simple scavenger and mixmaster doodles as i fist fight art block

#mixmaster #scavenger #transformers scavenger #constructicons #transformers #maccadam #don’t think to hard about the proportions #im to sick to care #and also have been spending months trying to figure out how to draw them #it’s been more difficult than I anticipated🥲 #this is the closest ive gotten so far #my art

[augustinewrites]

alhaitham almost walks right past you in the hall, too engrossed in whatever he’s reading. it takes you gently grasping his wrist for him to look up, expression brightening briefly before diving right back into his papers. 

“is everything okay?” you ask when you notice the knot that’s formed between his brows. “i’ve hardly seen you all day.”

“i’m fine,” he tells you, which lets you know that he’s certainly stressed about something. he sighs, returning the correspondence to the envelope tucked underneath his arm. “i just don’t understand why dehya won’t accept the akademiya’s job offer.”

in his capacity as the acting grand sage, he’s been trying to get her in the akademiya’s employ for weeks, but the mercenary’s been as tough to wear down as the wall of samiel itself. “ah. still having trouble recruiting her?”

“i’ve already offered a generous salary, benefits, a signing bonus, even a housing stipend. she’d practically be working side by side with the general mahamatra.”

“well, working with the matra means she’d have to spend a great deal of time in sumeru city,” you point out. “that’s probably something she doesn’t prefer.”

“why not?” he asks (because while your man is smart beyond belief, he can be a little dense sometimes). “we have everything here.”

“that’s true, but we’re also quite far from aaru village,” you say slowly, hoping he picks up on what you’re implying. 

“i appreciate the geography lesson, but that doesn’t help me figure out how to hire–”

“i was trying to be obscure,” you press, drawing a breath. “because being in sumeru full-time means that she’ll have to spend time away from candace.” 

he stares at you blankly, waiting for you to elaborate.

“haitham–” you say, pressing your hands together and glancing around quickly to confirm no one is within earshot. “dehya and candace are knocking boots.” 

he seems taken aback by what you’ve just whispered, pausing in his stride to process it. “wait, what?”

“it’s an old expression from mondstadt that means–”

“i’m familiar with the expression. i’m just asking why you’re so positive that they are having… relations.”

“because i just know. they have crazy chemistry. nilou sees it too.”

“do either of you have evidence?”

you hesitate. “no…”

“then you’re not positive. you’re only speculating.” 

“i’m not speculating,” you insist with a pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “i just know–”

“oh, like you just knew that kaveh was only going to stay with me for less than a month?”

“that’s different,” you argue. so what if kaveh’s been staying at alhaitham’s for more than six months? that was due to various, independent factors that had nothing to do with you. “but the way they are around each other–”

“gossip is an unreliable source of information,” he says flatly. alhaitham, as a rule, did not deign to entertain gossip. it was a premise built upon the unsteady grounds of conjecture, and he could not care less to waste his time surmising about other people’s personal lives. 

“but–”

“therefore, your advice is redundant.”

you take the files from under his arm, reaching up and smacking him on the back of the head with them. “my advice is always relevant. you can trust me on this.” 

alhaitham adjusts his headphones with a sigh, a pained but contemplative look on his face. He knows you’re right, and he knows that he’s hit a wall with this proposal. “fine. i will utilize your…advice, to adjust my proposal.” 

“that’s what i like to hear.”

the two of you continue walking in silence, yours smug and his pensive. then, after a moment, 

“you realize you just hit the acting grand sage, right?”

“oh please, you don’t scare me.” you meet his amused stare with open defiance, getting up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his jaw, then his cheek, and finally his lips. “and when dehya accepts this job proposal, i can think of a few ways you can repay me.” 

_____

“you want to offer me what?”

“you heard me,” alhaitham shrugs, leaning back in his plush desk chair. “the akademiya is willing to offer you compensation of up to ten thousand gold for any and all travel between sumeru city and aaru village.”

alhaitham may be in charge of the entire nation at the moment, but he doesn’t quite feel like it when dehya is in the room. she leans forward, resting her elbows atop the highly important documents on his desk as she stares at him. “why would you do that?” 

“so you can stay in contact with your loved ones.” 

the mercenary scoffs at that. “alhaitham, come on. i know you’ve done your research. i don’t have any family in aaru village.”

moment of truth.

“i was actually referring to…significant others.”

dehya’s brows raise in surprise.

_____

when he returns that night, the first thing alhaitham does when he joins you in bed is take the patient files from your hands and place them on the nightstand.

you frown, reaching for them. “i wasn’t done with those.”

he doesn’t argue with you, instead climbing on top of you and caging you against the bed, a knee pushed between your legs. he merely chuckles when you push at his chest, cause you’re not really trying.

he simply chases after you, and any fight you had to get back to your work dissipates when he presses his lips to yours.

“oh…” you sigh, quickly looping your arms around him to drag him closer, patting your lips to let him deepen the kiss. you gasp when he moves down to press kisses to your shoulder, slowly trailing more up your neck, your jaw, the shell of your ear.  

“dehya must have accepted the offer then,” you breathe, your eyes beginning to flutter shut.

“part time only,” he murmurs. “but she signed on.”

you hook your leg around his waist, grinning “oh, so i was…what’s the word?” 

he nips at your ear in reprimand, only making you laugh as he mutters, you were right, under his breath. 

“oh, don’t pout, baby,” you tease, hands roaming the well sculpted planes of his chest. “let’s just—"

“if you say ‘knock boots,’ i’m going to leave you here and sleep on the couch.”

#alhaitham x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #alhaitham x y/n #genshin drabbles

[shewrites02]

Green With Envy |Zoro X Reader|

Jealous Zoro x reader

Zoro x Crewmate!Reader

A/N: This is for @dinuxia-bhm, Who requested Zoro Jealous of the shitty cook. This is my very first One Piece fic request so I hope I did it justice.

Request : Open

Word Count : 5.3k

Leave a comment if you enjoy ! :)

"If you stare any longer , you may actually burn the image of them into your brain." Nami teased. She bumped the swordsman with her elbow , only then drawing his attention to her presence. "

Do you plan on making a move or were you hoping to intimidate her into a relationship?"

Nami takes a seat at the table next to the pirate who also awaits the start of breakfast. His eyes glance over at her , contemplating if he has any harsh words for the navigator... He has half a mind to tell her to mind her own business. Relationship? He scoffs at the notion. The swordsman knew nothing of feelings or love. The taboo, he quickly determined, too ridiculous to even discuss. Zoro only huffs in disagreement then goes back to watching the displays of affection amongst you and the cook.

You were teaching Sanji how to make an authentic breakfast from your village. The cook had begged you for weeks to share your favorite recipe with him. Even offering to spend his own berries gathering all the ingredients.

"Sanji, why do you keep asking me about this?" You inquired on the third week.

" I know you've only been sailing with us for a couple months, but I'm sure you noticed how hard it is to be away from home. " He took the cigarette out his lips then ashed it on the railing before giving you a sincere smile. "I just want to be able to make you something if you get homesick."

It was difficult to decline such a heartfelt request.

"Here. Try it now."

You blew on the spoon hoping to cool it down. When most of the steam subsided , you extended your arm bringing the spoon to Sanji's lips. You steadied his chin with your free hand being sure not to spill the hot liquid on his face. He hummed in pleasure at the taste.

"I think you have outdone even me on this one, my love." Sanji grinned proudly.

"As if I could ever!"

You pushed your hand into Sanji's chest jokingly shoving him away from you. The cook grabs your wrist before you can pull away, drawing you in to plant a tender kiss on your cheek.

"Darling, you truly did an amazing job. Thank you for showing me."

The sight made Zoro's stomach turn. He watched how Sanji's hands fell to your waist when he moved around you to navigate the kitchen. Notice how you didn't shy away from his touch. How you actually offered a sweet smile to him in return . The marimo's body strained at every passing touch you and Sanji exchanged. His taut muscles are too tense to contract any further at the sight of Sanji's lips against your skin. "Why does he get to touch you?" The thought comes as a surprise to him.

"Here Zo , you wanna try ?" You asked.

You turn to him with a new spoonful of jam, blowing on it just as you had done for Sanji . You had taken notice of the swordsman's observations of you . Watch the way his eyes had followed your hands to Sanji's chin when you fed him . Zoro had sat at the table all morning supervising your lesson with the cook. You figured you could offer him that attention too.

"Marimo is too dense to appreciate such elegant flavors. " Sanji responds before Zoro has an opportunity to.

"Fuck you! It's only your shit cooking I don't appreciate!"

While the boys bicker you walk over to the table spoon in hand. Sanji had hurled another insult at the ex bounty hunter , but the delicate feeling of your fingers wrapping around his chin stopped any words Zoro may have had in return. There was a small pause where his eyes lingered on yours . Searching for something . Malice? Contempt? You didn't know. But When he found what he was looking for , or lack thereof , his lips parted.

"Is it good? Do you like it?" You asked using your thumb to wipe away the excess from the side of his mouth.

"Yeah..." His gaze shifts away from you. "Way better than the cooks."

You giggled at his words, allowing yourself to wallow in the heat that filled your chest at his praise. Amused at the small smirk that laid on his lips once he had gotten what he wanted. Your attention. You bend to bring your mouth to his ear.

"Silly swordsman, I have enough attention for the both of you." You whispered .

"I- that's not-"

The words trip and stumble out his mouth never once finding their feet. You could see the sweat begging to bead on Zoro's brow as his eyes shifted about in panic, looking for anything coherent to mumble back. The stoic pirate reduced to a fumbling teenager at your words. When he can come up with nothing, he decides to stop speaking. Annoyed, he crosses his arms against his chest and turns his head to face the navigator. He is met with the knowing grin on her face.

-

Your eyes scanned the room while your fingers aimlessly tapped against the sake bottle. You sat at the bar top alone , waiting for the rest of your crew-mates to join you . You should have known better than to think any of them would be on time. Sticking to the plan was not something the Strawhats were particularly versed in. Especially when they were all left to their own devices on a new island. You sigh, dragging your free hand down your face , attempting not to ruin your makeup in the process. It was beginning to get difficult to wait. The eyes of the pirate's in the bar watched you hungrily, and you feared one may try to satiate their appetite. Eyes still roaming the room, you hoped to see a familiar face.

"A pretty lady like yourself shouldn't be sitting all alone in a packed bar. " A man announces.

It's their captain. His arm is extended, hand out offering you a beer as he approaches. You smile, kindly declining. You hold up your own bottle, shaking it slightly to indicate its fullness as means of justification . The man nodded in understanding, but didn't leave. In fact he took the prolonged silence as an invitation to take a seat alongside you.

"Are you waiting on somebody?"

He casually rests his hand on your thigh as though he has already claimed you . You shift in your seat, turning so your legs would fall beneath the bar top. You're hoping the man would sense your discomfort at his proximity. His hand does not move. Instead his smile grows wider. Taking your movement as the green light to slowly drag his hand up toward your waist.

"My boyfriend is meeting me."

The lie slips past your lips with ease at the sudden rush of adrenaline. You go to swat the man's hands from you . The previous statement should be enough for him to understand you are not his to claim . The smile he wears drops. His hand doesn't move. Despite your physical protest. Your breath hitches in your throat at the growing realization of the situation you're in.

"He shouldn't have left you here all alone." The man's voice isn't above a whisper

His warning is gone just as quickly as it came , but your fear still lingers in the air. Your eyes bounce wryly from the door to the pirate who continued to creep into your space. "They're coming!" Your mind loops the words as if they were an incantation.

Then, as if to answer your fervent prayers, the bar door is shoved open. Luffy is the first of your crew to enter, his first mate trails behind him. You can see Zoro searching for you in the crowd, as the rest of the Strawhats messily file in after him. It doesn't take long for his eyes to find yours.

You don't have to say a word . The swordsman can sense your discomfort from where he stood. He saw the fear that engulfed the glimmer that resides in your eyes. He watched how you kept your arms held close to your body, afraid the man would reach for you. Notice how rigidly you cross your legs over one another . Then he sees the man's hand rubbing up and down your thigh. The swordsman starts making his way over to you, hand on the hilt of Shusui.

Zoro drew his sword placing the blade at the base of the man's wrist. The music in the bar stopped. The patrons are silent. Everybody's eyes fall on the three of you. Most filled with fear, your friends with confusion. But all watch the same as the conflict unfolds.

"Move your hand, before I slice it off."

There is a brief pause before the man laughs. A genuine belly hugging laugh at Zoro's imminent threat. Moments later the other men join in, egging their captain on.

"Is this the boyfriend you were talking about?"' The man asks, ignoring the ex bounty hunter. His eyes don't leave your body. Neither does his hand. "You almost got your lady in a lot of trouble , leaving her all alone in a bar like this."

Zoro's scowl deepens at the pirate's words. "Boyfriend? You had told the man he was your boyfriend?" The pieces slowly fall into place as the swordsman assesses the scene surrounding you. Alone, you sat in a bar full of pirates. The only other women present are staff of the small business. Zoro's eyes glance over at yours. His grip tightens around the hilt at the sight of your fearful expression. You had told the pirate he was boyfriend. Zoro finally understands.

"What kind of man would treat his girlfriend that way?"

"What kind of man uses his power to strong arm women? " The swordsman responds.

The question coals in the raging fire that was already roaring in the ex bounty hunter. The pirate had thought you were his, yet touched you anyway. Decided you were his to claim. To conquer. Then Justified his actions using the lack of Zoro's presence as an excuse. As if his absence was reason enough to encroach your space, and have you trembling in fear. Now the pirate captain had the audacity to question the type of man he was. It enrages Zoro.

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

"Strong arm?" The captain stifles another laugh. His eyes finally look over to meet the swordsman. "We would've handled princess here real gentle."

The pirate clenches his fingers around you then goes to inch his hand further up your thigh. Zoro has seen enough. There is a sharp yelp preceding the sound of him sheathing his weapon. Your harasser's hand falls to the floor beneath your feet. Blood spews from his severed arm. You want to scream, but a sharp gasp falls from your lips instead. Almost instinctively Zoro's hand reaches out to grasp yours at the reaction.

You had seen Zoro cut down many men before, but being inches away from his blade as he does so was an entirely different experience. As you felt the warmth of the pirate's blood seeping into your dress, and wiped at the splatters of blood that littered your skin, you couldn't help but be a bit awestruck at his strength.

The captain's crew members rush to his aid as his screams continue. Zoro lets you squeeze his hand while you cautiously hop down from the bar stool, trying your best not to slip on the blood that covered the floor. He nudges you along to follow him. The only precursor you receive before the two of you walk into the single stalled bathroom at the back of the bar.

The small room didn't allot the two of you much personal space. If anything it forced you two into dangerously close proximity. As you stood in front of the sink , back to the mirror, you could feel Zoro's knees lightly brush yours when he reached to grab the paper towel off the roll. He bundles it up then brings it to your cheek. You take note of the small hesitation he makes before his hand lands on your chin . He licks the wad before swiping away at your cheek. A poor attempt to rid you of the scumbag's blood.

"I'm sorry." The words feel unfamiliar as they fall from the swordsman's mouth.

Your eyebrows raise to your temples. In all the months you had been sailing with the Strawhats , you have never heard Zoro apologize. You wonder what made this occasion so different. the slight widening of your eyes gives way to your surprise. Zoro notices and continues.

"I should have been on time."

"Don't be sorry Zoro. You saved me, thank you."

You bring your hand up to rest over his before smiling up at him. The look in your eyes, the one he had seen you give to Sanji so many times, was finally from his doing. His heart raced at your expression. He felt himself begin to sweat as the warmth of your stare spread across his skin. Zoro couldn't understand the physical response from his body. Part of him wanted to run. To flee the threat that seemed to be your piercing gaze. But a bigger part of him wanted to bask in its glow, doing anything imaginable to keep the sun out just a little while longer.

"Although " You giggle at the silly hunch. "I would have thought it would be Sanji to save me."

Your words bring raging storm clouds that wash Zoro's warmth away. He rolls his eyes. As though the notion was too implausible to even be considered. He brings the paper towel back to your cheek then speaks.

"The dumbass cook can barely save himself !"

"Is the moss head jealous?" You tease. " I'm happy it was you."

A loud bang on the flimsy wooden door interrupts the swordsman before he can respond. Seconds later it flings open, shaking on its creaky hinges. The sniper stands on the other side wide eyed.

"It's time to go!"

When you reunite with your crew there really is no need to explain the urgency of the situation. The pirate captain laid unconscious on the ground with a makeshift tourniquet wrapped around his arm. Apparently the crew had not taken kindly to Zoro's treatment of their captain, and seemed to have every intention of taking it out on the rest of the crew.

"C'mon guys there is surely no reason to make this much fuss over one hand." Brooke had tried to reason, his efforts in vain. The pirate crew wanted a fight.

"You pieces of shit!" Sanji swept his leg, thrashing a considerable number of men through the bar's singular window. "How dare he have the audacity to treat my darling , sweet love with such disrespect. And now you stand here trying to avenge your captain's actions... I won't allow it to go unpunished."

Sanji had enough fury in his heart to take on the entirety of the scumbag's lackeys. A fight was the only way to alleviate the emotions that were sure to get the better of him. In under three moves the cook had the no named pirate crew looking just as bad as their captain. The situation was settled.

-

"So the swordsman saves the day." Sanji says dejectedly as he brings the glass to his lips to take a drink. "At least you're okay."

You can't help the giddy smile that appears on your face at his mention. A bitter side effect of the alcohol. The navigator had suggested none of you go home empty handed after the chaos that ensued at the bar. Insinuated you had deserved a treat after all your troubles. There were no objections. At first you can only giggle at the cook's words. Butterfly's bloom in your chest when you think about the swordsman's delicate touch against your skin just moments after cutting a man down... for you. A slight chills crawls down your spine. You take a significant swig from the whiskey bottle in your hand hoping the burn of the alcohol sliding down your throat may warm you up.

"He's an interesting man , Uh?" You pause to glance towards the deck. "Zoro."

"That's one word."

Sanji's curly brows raise at your question. He turns to look at you, but you don't meet his gaze. You're looking out at the party . The cook watches your eyes while they search and scatter. He is trying to assess their intent, and then it dawns on him. You were looking for him. The Swordsman.

"You wouldn't happen to have a crush on mosshead would you?"

Your eyes dart back to Sanji , then away to look at the sea. Crush wasn't nearly a strong enough word to describe how you felt about Roronoa Zoro. Sometimes you would switch night watches with Nami just for the opportunity to watch the swordsman train in the crows nest. Although most of the time had been spent in silence , there was still something special about being in his presence. But Zoro's stoicism made it difficult to discern his feelings. You had thought him so unconcerned with your presence for so long that you had resorted to blatant teases and flirting with him in the first place. If only to fluster him. You craved acknowledgment from Zoro, in the way your lungs craved oxygen. desperately.

"I have been obsessed with the swordsman since the day Luffy dragged me onto the sunny... "

"Obsessed uh?"

Sanji lets out a genuine laugh at the words. Amused by the way the alcohol loosens your tongue. He had always taken notice of your affinity toward Zoro. Witnessed how differently you spoke to him than the others. Your crewmates had easily labeled you a flirt, but the way you riled Zoro had been different than the jokingly stated endearments you passed the rest of them.

Sanji glances around you to spot the swordsman on the deck. As he suspects the green haired pirate is surveilling them. When their eyes meet Zoro turns his head to stare at the antics of their captain, feigning interest. "If the dumbass mosshead had even the slightest ounce of emotional intelligence the two of you would be happy now." Sanji is surprised when the thought bumps into his head.

"Well, darling" Sanji wraps his arm around your shoulder to draw you into him. You rest your head on his chest, then he continues to speak. "I have half a mind to say marimo likes you too."

The swordsman lays against the mast , feet crossed in front of him downing his third bottle of the night. He doesn't understand his anger at your actions; This scalding feeling that envelops him at the way you rest your head on Sanji's chest encourages him to drink more. He tries to dismiss his thoughts, convince himself that he doesn't care, but they bombard him like a buster call.

"Why did the cook get to hold you?" "He was the one who saved you. Why are you batting your eyelashes at Sanji and not him ?" "What else does he have to do to keep your attention?" "What about the shit cook was so much better than him?"

Zoro sees you part from the cook, and watches as you trek back to the party. He assumes you'll rejoin Nami and Robin, considering the tipsy women are calling your name so fervently. His brows raise when you pass them giving a placating wave. You're making your way over to him.

"Don't tell me you're already done drinking Zoro. I hadn't known you to be such a lightweight." You jest, pointing over to the 3 empty bottles that sat alongside him.

Zoro smirks before reaching for the half empty bottle that was clutched in your fingers. He wraps his large hand around yours then guides you to bring the bottle to his lips so he can take a drink. When he is done he wipes the excess from his lips using the back of his hand.

"You done smiling at the cook?"

He releases his hold on you then turns his head so your eyes won't meet his. He's staring at the sea as if it will answer his question. You mock a gasp bringing your free hand to your chest. Then you giggle.

"Roronoa! You're so jealous."

"No I'm not!"

You bring your hand to Zoro's cheek guiding his eyes back to yours. You offer him a sly smirk before you bend at the waist to meet his face. You're so close Zoro can feel your breath on his cheeks.

"Yes you are mossy. So spoiled, wanting my attention all to yourself. It's okay, I'm here now."

Zoro jerks his chin away from your grasp. His face scrunches into a frown. It's difficult for him to discern if it's anger, or embarrassment that's swelling inside him. The words fall from his lips before he has a chance to assess them.

"I'm not jealous!... I don't even know what the shitty cook sees in you."

Zoro wishes he could snatch the words back before they hit your ears. Hates how you wince at what he says. The way your smile dropped while you ruminated on his words. There is no more sunshine in your tear pooled eyes, only storm clouds. He knows it before the first tear has fallen. He's gone too far. You storm away from him.

-

"You made her cry." Sanji states as he pulls the cigarette for his lips. He puffs the smoke out then turns to Mosshead for an answer.

Zoro is in the crow's nest hiding from the peering eyes of his crewmates. Surely the cook hadn't been the only one to notice your early departure from the party only moments after the conversation you two had. The others were bound to have questions of their own soon. None of which Zoro cared to answer.

"I didn't mean to." Is all the swordsman can muster. The image of your broken hearted eyes are seared into his brain. Why did he say that? He wants to bang his head against the wall at the thought. Sanji rolls his eyes at the excuse. Not assuaged by the swordsman's words. Intent had no significance in Sanji's mind, all that mattered was that he was the source of your tears.

"What did you say to her?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Bullshit."

Zoro walked toward the dumbbells that laid on the floor . He decides lifting is a better option than repeating his misgivings. He had no intention of admitting to the cook that he himself had been the source of Zoro's rage.

"Why do you care?" Zoro snaps back . He's deflecting.

"Because I care about her. She's cried herself to sleep and it's your fault!"

"If you care so much you fix it!"

"I wish I could marimo, I would love nothing more than to take that darling lady away from you."

Zoro scrunched his face into yet another frown. From him ? Zoro had never believed you his to begin with . Had that been the case he would've cut the chef down ages ago for his fleeting touches and stares.

"Take her, I don't care."

At this the cook let out a loud laugh that threatened to escape the confines of the crow's nest. He genuinely couldn't believe the swordsman could be so oblivious of his own feelings. When Sanji catches his breath, he can't help his devilish smile.

"... So you wouldn't mind if I climb into her bed tonight? You know she asked me."

Zoro's jaw clenches. He lowers the dumb bells away from his chest then drops them to the floor. Now his eyes meet the cook. Sanji takes it as an invitation to continue.

"I think she wanted the comfort after y'all's ... run in."

More fuel is added to Zoro's already racing thoughts. This time, he could not convince himself he was unbothered. Couldn't find a deep place to push the discomfort. The cook always got the best parts of you. Parts the swordsman so desperately wanted to save for himself. Zoro was sick of it.

"Don't touch her."

A sharp chuckle falls from Sanji's lips at the irony. Zoro couldn't admit to how he feels about you, but is standing there contemplating cutting him down at the mere thought of letting him into your bed. How could marimo be so stupid?

"Yeah mosshead, You don't care about her at all." Sanji mocked.

"You don't know what you're talking about?" Zoro scoffs.

What does the shitty cook know of his feelings, when he himself could not sort them out.

Sanji can only shake his head in disappointment. He brings his fingers to the bridge of his nose to pinch it slightly before letting out a dismissive sigh. Oh how'd he wished to take your mind away from the swordsman. Wished it was he who was the object of your affections, but the cook knew you would never be obsessed with him in the same way you were marimo. As painful as that may be.

"Zoro, if you lose the girl you're in love with because you're too stupid to figure out your feelings..." He takes a drag from his cigarette "You're a bigger dumbass than I thought."

"Why do you give a shit if things work out?t" Zoro snarls. He wonders why Sanji has suddenly taken his feelings into so much consideration.

"Honestly mossy I don't. You don't deserve her. but she loves you and she deserves to be happy. You'll make her happy. That's all I really want... "

-

Sanji set the plate down on the vanity. He peers over at you wrapped in the thick comforter. You had allowed it to engulf you, face and all. You had not moved since he had come to see you last. That was at breakfast. Still you faced the wall with your back to him. There is a slight hesitation in his step before he walks further into the room.

"You sure everything is okay?" He inquires for the second time.

"I'm fine Sanji. Really." You attempt to sound reassuring.

The cook nods in understanding. He is not convinced , but will not ask for a third time . Instead he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. A sigh of relief leaves your lips. You didn't want to tell Sanji the truth. That you were too embarrassed to face the swordsman. That his rejection looped continuously through your mind, making it impossible to sleep. Had Zoro really meant what he said ? Were you just making a fool of yourself this whole time? The thought makes you shudder.

Sanji pushes his way through the door to enter the kitchen. He is met with the eyes of his crewmates who waited for him at the table in anticipation . He shakes his head. Nami and Robin release their sighs of disappointment .

"I wonder why she won't join us." Robin inquires.

"First breakfast, now lunch... She must really be feeling bad." Nami continues.

"I can go check on her... " Luffy chimes in "maybe she'll tell me what's wrong."

Luffy goes to grab a handful of the chopped fruit Sanji had placed on the table . Sanji swats his captain's hands away before sitting another plate down, this time sandwiches. Zoro has now entered the kitchen hearing the tale end of the Strawhat's woes. He feels the way the cooks eye borough into his skull, knowing that they're scowling at him. Zoro doesn't look his way. He knows that it is his fault you've gone missing . He doesn't need the cook to remind him.

"Marimo is going to check on her." Sanji announces.

The room falls quite as eyes are now on the swordsman. Nami cringes in disbelief, shaking her head vigorously.

"I don't think that's a good id-"

"Don't worry, he'll fix it." Sanji ends Nami's sentence before she has the chance to.

His crew eyes him with unsure stares. Zoro had never been one to offer much comfort, even in the most dark of times. They didn't see how he'd be the answer to their troubles. Sanji does not elaborate on his statement. He offers his crew a smile before setting the homemade chips on the table and announcing lunch is ready.

-

"Sanji , you don't have to keep coming in here every fifteen minutes to check on me. " You say to the sound of knocking at the bedroom door.

You pull the blankets back to face who you thought was the cook. Zoro stood there in his place. His back against the bedroom door like he was still contemplating if he should stay or not. You sit up at the feeling of your heart shooting to your throat.

"What are you doing here?"

"You haven't come out all day." He responds as if that answers your question. When you don't say anything back , he assumes he should continue. "They're worried about you."

Zoro's hand falls to the nape of his neck, he rubs sheepishly then looks down at the floor. You roll your eyes, dissatisfied with his answer. You pull the blankets up to cover your face then turn your back to him.

"Go away Zoro."

It hurts him to hear, although he knows he has no right to be upset. When he heard you didn't show up for breakfast, he'd felt worse than when the words initially fell from his mouth. Truth be told he had hid in the crow's nest as long as he could trying not to run into you this morning . Thought that he was giving you space to breathe without his watchful eye.

"I- I was jealous... of you and the cook."

Zoro pauses waiting for a reaction from you to see if he should keep talking or not. There's an unusual shake of fear in his voice you don't recognize. You sit up to face him once again.

"I was mad and I took it out on you. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

This has made two apologies from the ever prideful pirate.

"You hurt my feelings." Your voice is soft , fragile as you respond.

"I know..." The swordsman pushes himself from the door to take a step towards you. "If I could eat the words I would."

You gaze into his eyes for a moment, searching for an ounce of deception. You know you won't find it . If the swordsman had not meant his words, he would not have gone out of his way to say them. But still you look to reassure yourself.

"Zoro I don't understand makes you so angry about my relationship with Sanji?"

"I don't like it when he touches you." The swordsman confesses.

You smirk at his candor. All this over the playful touches the cook had thrown your way. It was almost too sweet to believe you had the swordsman so twisted at the sight of you sharing your affection. You swing your legs so they fall off the edge of the bed. You're staring at him intently. Zoro is nervous under your gaze . You can tell by the way he fiddles with his fingers aimlessly.

"You don't like when Sanji touches me ?" You repeat. You pause to offer the swordsman a chance to take back his words. But he does not renege.

"...I don't like when anyone touches you."

Your giggle is involuntary. The smirk on your lips is now a full blown smile. Despite the pain that had come from it, you couldn't help but love the thought of the swordsman jealous over you. Before you were just joking , but to hear the words from Zoro's mouth himself was truly blissful.

"Roronoa... Do you have a crush on me?"

"Crush on you?" He ponders like it's the first time he's thought about it. "I don't think that's a strong enough word."

"No?"

He shakes his head taking a step toward you . His hand meets your cheek. He is hesitant. Thinks you may pull away from his touch. But the swordsman is pleasantly surprised when you lean into his hand.

"Sanji says I'm in love with you."

Your heart skips at the word. Love. It sounded so sweet coming from Zoro lips. You wondered what you would have to do to hear him say it again.

"Yeah? And what do you think?"

"I think he might be right."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N : I stared at this so long, I might have it memorized at this point lol. I'm not sure if I'm happy with it , but it is a labor of love nonetheless.

{If you would like to be added to my tag list lemme know! I would Love to have you}

#zoro roronoa #one piece #ronoroa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro #one piece zoro #one piece strawhats #op zoro

[carpenterswife]

HALF OF ME (ii)

SUMMARY: When Soldier Boy doesn’t return from Nicaragua, Vought creates a bullshit lie, talking him up as a hero who died in a devastating, world-saving accident. You’re handed down the mantle of leader as Payback, and spend your time trying to live up to how Ben had lead them, while also attempting to figure out what truly happened to him.

WORD COUNT: 2945

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Vought’s corrupt behaviour, typical Soldier Boy behaviour, death, gore, vomit, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, sexual content, smut; descriptions of sex.

SERIES MASTERLIST / MAIN MASTERLIST

Ben didn’t come home from Nicaragua.

Blown to pieces by some Russian laser weapon (what the fuck?), the.. chunky remnants of his body were taken away in a helicopter. Presumably to be experimented on.

It made you sick. Ben might’ve been an asshole, a deep rooted cunt, but he didn’t deserve to have his corpse be defiled like that. Maybe you’d just gone soft for him, that’s all. Maybe his hushed, sweet words and gentle touches, in his last few days, had softened your heart.

But you spent nights grieving your loss, hyperventilating in your room as you felt his fingers tracing your hips again. If you closed your eyes tight enough, you could see him.

You’d never planned for Ben to die. Hell, he hadn’t even planned to do. He was supposed to be ageless; a man who didn’t die. Vought would hide him away when it became suspicious, and he’d live peacefully… as peaceful as he could get, anyway. That was what was supposed to happen.

But his guts were strewn across the base camp in Nicaragua, and you’d never see him again.

It only took Vought three months to create a bullshit cover story.

After all, they couldn’t tell America their beloved Soldier Boy was actually at the site of a cocaine smuggling operation when he was blown to bits. No, that’d taint his image that Vought had spent literal decades moulding. He needed to die a hero. A man that would live gloriously in textbooks and stories.

A nuclear reactor meltdown is what they came up with.

Fucking bullshit, really.

The man was practically immortal (which did raise the question of, how the hell did the Russians kill him in the first place?). Some radiation wasn’t going to take him out. You’d watched him take two full magazines from an assault rifle, and get back to his feet like nothing happened.

And now he was dead. You didn’t know how. You wished more than ever that he’d let you accompany Payback on this godforsaken mission. Because you were utterly clueless as to what had gone down, and no one was answering your questions, tearing up whenever you mentioned the place.

You wanted — needed — to know how this was possible.

You knew Ben, better than anyone else on the team, even Crimson, who stood up on stage, talking about how good of a man Ben was.

Ben was a good man — to those he thought deserved to see that side of him. He was reserved and harsh and rude. And, yes, he was naturally an asshole. But, there was a part of him capable of respect and kindness and love. It was just stuffed deep within.

You’d been drawing it, slowly and carefully. You’d dug your hand in and grasped onto it, worming that side of him out of his heart with every night you’d spent cuddled into his chest. And he’d been warming. His touches had been gentler, his words softer, his eyes more admiring. You’d made him that. You were the only one he’d deemed worthy of his love and trust and respect.

Crimson had never seen that side of him. She’d never even come close to opening him up, seeing who he truly was.

As she talked fake stories of their blinding romance, about how he was such an incredible boyfriend, you just rolled your eyes in the audience. The only time Ben spent with Crimson outside of the public eye was when he was balls deep inside of her. And, even then, he liked to say she was a terrible fuck.

He also liked to say you were a good fuck. It was his favourite compliment; as funny was that was. As he railed you against his mattress, his hands keeping you firmly where he wanted you, he muttered praises.

That was different to the Ben the other women got. He’d degrade them: call them every name under the sun as he practically broke their pelvises. With you, sure, he was rough, but he complimented you; whispering and grunting softly, making sure you felt pretty and loved as he violently fucked you into unconsciousness.

And he always made sure you were okay afterwards. Ben giving aftercare was not something you’d expected, but he was damn good at making you feel safe and secure. He was a man of many talents.

The country was honouring him, as you begged for any kind of rational answer from Payback, from Edgar, from Vought. You were close to falling to your knees and pleading. But they didn’t care. Too busy basking in the boost of popularity that came from Ben’s death.

So, they upped their game.

And, when Vought erected a statue of Ben outside of Vought Tower, you threw up in the bathroom. The night you were named the new leader of Payback, you threw up again.

Apparently, it’s what Ben wanted. Which was bullshit. He wanted you in his kitchen with a dinner plate (lovingly, he’d told you that night. How could something like that be a compliment? You didn’t know, but it was Ben, so you guessed it was possible). But, you couldn’t fight it. So, nearly exactly three months after the last night you saw him, you took his place.

It felt wrong, and disrespectful, and you were lost and out of place. You had no knowledge on how to lead a team of asshole supes, that didn’t respect you or really like you that much.

Ben did this so easily. He lead Payback like a natural born leader. You lead like a baby giraffe learning to walk.

But you did it anyway.

“Soldier Boy was a national icon.” You held the microphone with shaking hands, willing them to stop, staring out at the gathering of civilians. It was wrong; America was mourning a death they’d all been lied to about. You swallowed your bile and pushed on. “And I am honoured to be taking his place as the leader of our brave and dedicated superhero team, Payback. I will be leading in his image, and his honour, and I hope that my work would make him proud.”

It was all bullshit.

You hadn’t written a word of this shit.

Edgar had shoved it into your hands and pointed you onto the stage. No warning. No cooperation. No opinion. Just… here you go, now go put on a show.

But, the audience was eating it up, and Edgar and your PA were giving you a thumbs up from backstage. They liked your performance. Ben, however, would be gagging in his mouth hearing this. He’d probably mock you, and claim you’d be better off just blowing his dick. He’d be right. Every word that was coming out of your mouth was corporate propaganda.

Your hands curled tighter around the microphones, knuckles whitening. You didn’t want to be here. You wanted to be home, as far away from Vought and these grieving people as fast as possible. “Soldier Boy was a respected, beloved hero, within your hearts, and Vought’s.” God, what cliche, sappy horseshit. “He was a good man, who lost his life saving millions.” You held back your scoff. “Vought will forever live in his shadow. We ask that you give us time and space to grieve our loss. Thank you.”

The audience applauded, loud and roaring, as you walked off stage.

The rage bubbling up in your chest was ready to burst, overflowing. This was all fucking sickening. No one was telling you anything. And they expected you to get on stage and do these speeches? To sit, cry and look pretty as you grieved the mighty Soldier Boy?

Fuck that. You were going to get answers.

There was some dark shit happening behind the scenes, and it had Vought’s grubby handprints all over it. The cover story. Payback’s silence. Edgar’s lack of care. None of it was adding up.

The moment the audience could no longer see it, your mouth curled to a scowl, heels clicking as you stormed up to Edgar. You were going to get answers, even if you had to physically get them. You’d find out what happened to Ben in Nicaragua, even if it cost you your head.

Stan Edgar, despite knowing he was now on the receiving end of your anger, stood tall. Cocky bastard. You could kill him with ease. But, of course, he didn’t care. There was only one person you’d ever seen Edgar cower from — Ben. To be fair with the guy, though, anyone would cower if Soldier Boy was screaming at you, inches from your face.

“What is going on?” Despite your rage, you kept your voice to a low hiss, not wanting to attract attention to your anger and frustration. “Can someone fucking explain to me, what is happening?” He began to walk away, and you followed. your words still flying out. “Why am I taking Ben’s place? How did he even die? You were in Nicaragua — what happened? Why did it take you so long to come up with that shitty reactor meltdown story?”

He turned to face you. You abruptly stopped, almost smashing into his chest with the suddenness of it, taking a stumbling step backwards. “I understand you’re upset.” You rolled your eyes at his professional tone, hands linked behind his back. Typical. “But I cannot answer those questions.”

“No, I deserve to know” You demanded. It was a losing battle, and you already knew that, but it doesn’t mean you wouldn’t try your hardest. “What. Happened?”

You weren’t getting an answer from Edgar. And that became clear when he turned his back to you, engaging in a conversation with his secretary, and leaving you in the dust. Glaring at the back of his head, you muttered obscenities.

If you weren’t getting it from Edgar’s lips, you’d get it another way.

Namely, breaking into his office that evening.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

Now, you weren’t a seasoned criminal, but Ben had taught you a thing or two. He was, very much, a criminal, and knew things you were never too curious to ask about. Like picking locks. Which was the most normal of his odd knowledge. (The fact that man has known the recipe to make a bomb was… terrifying.)

Picking a lock wasn’t in your expertise, but you remembered enough from what he’d shown you. Enough to kneel down in front of Edgar’s office door, and use a bobby pin to turn the lock until it clicked.

You grinned, internally thanking Ben for his… strange teaching techniques. Glancing down the hallway, both ways, you ensured it was empty; that no one was about to see you going against every rule in the book. Once it was cleared, you slipped inside the door with practiced ease, and shut the door behind you.

The sun was setting over the horizon — the golden hour hue lighting up the room enough for you to make your way over to Edgar’s shelves. You were determined to find something. Anything.

Something was going on. Something sketchier than Vought’s usual dirty work. And you were going to figure it out.

Your index finger skimmed the folders, peeking at the names. Until you found Ben’s — a cream folder with ‘SOLDIER BOY’ written across the front. Pulling it out, your eyes locked onto the bright red ‘DECEASED’ stamped under his name, your heart squeezing.

Swallowing thickly, uncertain, you flipped it open. Reasons over the contents, your eyes narrowed in concentration and then narrowed further in frustration.

It was nothing you didn’t already know. His past. The human trial experiment. Comp V. Ben had already told you all of this.

You glared at the deceased marker on the front of it, and then slid the folder back into the right spot. Alphabetical order, you noticed. You continued flicking through the files, trying to find something that could be labelled as suspicious.

Your ears perked at the sound of sudden buzzing from across the room. Like a dog to a squeaky toy, you rushed over, watching a piece of paper print out of the fax machine.

You snatched it up the moment it came out.

BCL-RED was the title word.

What the fuck was that?

You’d never heard of it before. It had to be an acronym, but your mind came up blank, as you racked it for any familiarity. Cursing internally, you scowled — damn fucking code words.

Before you could read ahead, a voice floated into the office from outside.

“Shit.” You hissed under your breath, suddenly very panicked. Returning the paper to the machine, you dashed for the door, poking your head out just enough to peek down the hall. You spotted Edgar just a ways down, facing away from you, talking to Black Noir. Quickly and silently, with expertise learnt on the field, you crept out of the office, taking off down the hallway in the opposite direction.

All the way back to your room, you muttered the words to yourself.

BCL-RED.

… BCL-RED.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

It wasn’t in any folders documents anywhere. Not even your PA knew what a BCL-RED was.

You felt like a dog chasing its tail. Going in circles, trying to find any clues as to what happened to Ben. Every day your suspicions rose. Something wasn’t right. Edgar was having hushed conversations. Payback was having meetings that excluded you.

Your trail lead you to Grace Mallory.

The young woman handed you a cup of coffee, hands scarred and calloused from her days at war. Quietly, you thanked her, sat comfortably on her sofa, cradling the coffee. “I have to respect your strength. Putting up with Soldier Boy every day.”

You cracked a smile, sipping the steaming coffee. “He was a… acquired taste.” Your laugh was breathy and quiet, thinking back to Ben and his unique personality. “What happened in Nicaragua?”

Grace sighed as she settled back. She was pretty. No doubt Ben tried to get in her pants while he was there. “It happened quickly.” Your brows furrowed, sitting forward, elbows on your knees. “We were ambushed. Your team couldn’t find their guns from their asses.”

“Sounds about right.” You murmured. “I told Ben he needed me out there. The stubborn dick wouldn’t listen. Looks like it bit him in the ass, eh?”

“Big time.” Grace agreed. “There was an explosion. It knocked me out.” You listened attentively, frequently sipping the coffee. “When I came to… your team were in ruins. Half of ‘em were dead, the other half injured.”

You chewed your lips for a few beats. “Black Noir still hasn’t recovered. Doctors said he’ll never be able to talk again.”

Solemn, she nodded. “Not surprised. His face was more hole than it was skin.” You grimaced at the imagery. “Crimson Countess told me Soldier Boy was dead. He’d been killed by some… laser, his body taken by a helicopter.”

“And that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

You sat back. “Huh.” You murmured. “She’s lying.” You decided. The story wasn’t right. Sure, it was feasible, under different circumstances. But, in battle? When Ben was on his A-game? No way.

Grace looked confused. After all, why would Crimson lie about something like that?

You didn’t know.

But you were going to fucking find out.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

That night, you didn’t return to your room. Instead, you slipped into Ben’s in the dead of night. It hadn’t been touched since he left for Nicaragua. Since he’d railed you against the mattress and left you bed-bound for two days.

The air was musty, with dust covering each surface. Crawling onto the bed, you tugged open the curtains, letting sunlight in for the first time in months.

Every surface was covered in dust. And there were still drugs laid about. Half snorted lines of cocaine on the coffee table. Empty pill bottles decorating the floor. An ash tray that reeked of marijuana. God, this man had been like a teenage boy.

Flicking on the light, you gathered your bravery, and spent a few hours cleaning his room up. You didn’t know why. Maybe you wanted to feel closer to him. Feel like you were doing something for him. Ben hated it when things were messy. And he loved it when you cleaned up after him. You hated feeding into that old, sexist mindset he had.

But, god, you’d do anything right now to hear him demand you fetch him a drink.

After you cleaned his room, you stripped his sheets, gagging at the old stain. Definitely your cum. And his. Gross. You stuffed it into a basket, kicking it away from you.

Okay… remember to not touch that again without gloves.

As you finished the last, final touches, a glint of metal on his bedside table caught your attention. Curious, you padded over, expecting a pistol.

Instead, you found a chain.

Your heart leapt into your throat. Delicately, you placed the necklace in the palm of your hand, brushing your thumb over the metal surface.

His WW2 dog tags.

Swallowing thickly, you blinked back your emotion. Why the fuck were even so sad? You weren’t even dating the man. Sure, you’d been his friend for years. You’d been protecting him. He’d been protecting you. You’d been his right-hand man practically.

But, still!

With a lump in your throat, you carefully placed the dog tags over your head. The dog tags were cold against your chest. You tucked them under your shirt, inhaling shakily.

With one last look around the room, you turned around and walked out, with a basket of laundry balanced on your hip.

You weren’t going to rest until you found out the truth. That was for sure.

A/N: sorry for the lack of soldier boy in this chap :( he makes his grand return next chapter !!! in all his sexist glory lmao. he’s so fun to write, tho i do feel like a horrible person writing some of the shit he says. definitely fun to explore this universe and all its fucked up possibilities. thank you guys for the support on chap one :’) <3 next chap will also be longer promise

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TAGLIST: @onlyangel-444 @deans-spinster-witch @fumolemon @anundyingfidelity @mostlymarvelgirl @aaronhotchnerlover @delaynew @let-me-luve-you @yvonneeeee @livsh20 @thej2report @lostin-jensenseyes

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #the boys #the boys tv #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #half of me

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Happy Anniversary?

Marlene's the first one to bring it up.

Remus is just sitting, trying to do his transfiguration homework in the common room when she pipes up.

"Hey, Remus, isn't your anniversary soon?" That's enough to draw his attention, head snapping up with a confused frown. "Any plans?"

"...anniversary?" He asks. Marlene looks at him like he's just spoken another language, or that he's magically turned into a brick wall.

"Yeah. Are you doing anything for it?"

"I have no clue what you're on about," he says simply, expecting that to be the end of that. However, a knowing smile finds its way onto Marlene's face, and she nods.

"Ah, right. I get it," she says with a wink, only befuddling Remus more.

Still, he doesn't think anyone else is going to bring it up.

As it turns out, everyone seems to think he has some big anniversary coming up. Lily congratulates him, Mary says she "always knew it was going to last forever", even Edgar Bones nudges him and whispers a quick "well done".

Somehow, and Remus has no clue how, he did something noteworthy a year ago. He's also completely unaware as to what. Nobody answers him when he asks, so he simply starts offering a polite smile and moving on with his day. There's some strange misunderstanding happening, and it'll probably blow over soon.

Probably.

It takes reaching the 'anniversary' date to figure out what the fuck is going on.

He's finally gotten some time with Sirius after he's been stuck in back-to-back detentions, walking down to the Black Lake together and just... chatting. It's really nice being able to spend time with Sirius outside of his classes again, even if it sends his stomach spinning and diving. As they talk, they pass Dorcas, who turns and calls to the two of them.

"Happy anniversary, guys!"

She's gone before they can ask any questions, leaving Remus with the same confused feeling as before. He opens his mouth to explain the situation to Sirius, only for Sirius to beat him to it.

"That's been happening all week," he says, puzzled, which stops Remus in his tracks.

"It has?"

He isn't walking anymore, and Sirius stops with him, elaborating with a frown.

"Yeah. Everyone's been going on and on about some anniversary. I don't know what-"

"They've been doing it to me too," Remus interjects quickly, almost under his breath. Sirius catches it though, eyes widening as he reaches the same conclusion as Remus has at the same bloody time.

It's them.

It's all about them.

All of the knowing glances, the congratulations, even the weird fucking winks. They all think Remus and Sirius are dating. Not only that, but they've thought that for a year? The thought sends too many emotions running through him. Shock, confusion and, oddly enough, bitterness. He's fallen asleep every night for months with Sirius on his mind. The thought of kissing him, being with him, belonging to him. He's spent too long biting back his confessions, the very obvious and frustrating fact that he's in love with Sirius Black, because he doesn't want to destroy their friendship, and his friends have just swooped in and made things so much more difficult!

"It's our fucking anniversary, isn't it?" Sirius says quietly, before glancing behind him. "Hold on," he says to Remus, turning right back around and going in the same direction Dorcas has just gone. He seems to involuntarily grab Remus' hand, Remus having no choice but to follow him helplessly.

They get to the Great Hall in time for lunch. Remus is a little pissed that everyone's weird obsession with their imaginary anniversary is interrupting the picnic they had planned.

"Guys." The two of them stop on front of the group, Sirius doing the talking, thank fuck. To be perfectly honest, Remus feels pretty speechless. "D'you lot think Remus and I are dating?"

"Yeah?" James says simply, wrinkling his nose like it's just a fact of life. "Everyone knows you're together."

"...we're not," Sirius says slowly, carefully, sending the group lapsing into silence, exchanging confused glances.

"Okay, that's doesn't make any sense," Lily says, everybody else nodding in agreement. "You're literally together all the time."

"Because we're friends," Sirius explains, and Remus really isn't sure what to say. Good thing he doesn't have to, because the back and forth doesn't stop.

"If Remus is in the hospital wing, you're there until Madame Pomfrey kicks you out," James offers.

"I care about him!" Sirius argues, but something about what James has said has hit him in a strange way, Remus hears the shift in his tone, feels the slight tightening of his grip on Remus' hand.

"You're holding hands right now," Mary says pointedly, and Sirius looks down at their connected hands like he had forgotten it had happened. Still, he has a reason for that one too.

"I hold everyone's hand."

He really doesn't want people to think he's dating Remus, does he?

"Not that much," Peter mumbles under his breath, and Remus almost wants to laugh.

"Sorry, does nobody find it strange that we've never kissed, then?" James shrugs.

"Not really. Figured you didn't like PDA."

"Okay, then... we've never called each other boyfriends, never been on a date-"

"Right, that one's just not true," Marlene says with a snort. Remus frowns, confused. Have they been on a date? Surely he'd know, right? "You go to Hogsmeade together all the time, you run off to 'study' every chance you get, and you're picnicking today."

"We're friends? Friends spend time together," Sirius says quickly, and Remus is really starting to struggle. He doesn't want to stand there while Sirius explains how ridiculous the concept of them dating is.

Instead of putting a stop to the conversation, Remus takes the coward's way out. He pulls his hand free from Sirius', turns, and walks away.

"Moony, wait-"

Remus pointedly ignores Sirius' call to him, aiming to get to the dorm and just wallow in self-pity for fifteen minutes. That way, he can act like he's fine and just go to the bloody picnic.

His hip, however, has other plans.

It twinges right as he reaches the stairs, forcing him to a halt with a sharp inhale. His hand involuntarily goes to the bannister at the bottom of the stairs, trying to get some of the weight off it. Unfortunately for him, it means Sirius catches up too quickly. To be honest, he hadn't even realised that Sirius was following him, but he arrives at his side in a matter of seconds.

"Moony, are you alright?" Remus lets his eyes sink shut for half a second, frustrated. "I'm sorry, I didn't realise they were upsetting you that much."

"It's not- it's just- it's nothing, I'm fine," Remus settles on, offering Sirius a tired smile.

"Moons, s'fine. I know how stupid you think it is." Sirius takes another step forward, acting as though he hasn't just confused the fuck out of Remus.

"What d'you mean? That's not why..." he trails off, not sure how to verbalise any of his thoughts without telling Sirius everything. Sirius fills it in for him, though.

"It's okay, really. You don't have to spare my feelings, or anything. I know you don't feel the same way," Sirius says with a shrug, sending Remus' mind reeling in a matter of seconds.

The same way.

The same fucking way?

Just like that, Remus is malfunctioning. Firstly, when the Hell did Sirius start liking him back? He's spent months having to reel in his own emotions, spending time with Sirius and accepting the sad reality that he's never going to be with him in a romantic way. Finally, just finally, he's started to come to terms with his own unrequited emotions, accept and embrace his friendship with Sirius, and they're not even bloody unrequited?

Also, when did they talk about it? How has Sirius come to the conclusion that Remus doesn't like him? Christ, Remus is fucking in love with him!

That's enough to spur Remus to talk.

"What?"

Okay, maybe he can't form full sentences right now, but he'll get there. Hopefully. Sirius just scrunches his nose up, confused.

"Moony, I get it, it's honestly okay. You don't like me, and didn't want to hear them all jumping to conclusions," He explains, and it only throws Remus more.

"No, that's not it," Remus says quickly, stunned that any words are coming out, even if they're pretty unhelpful words.

All he can do is look at Sirius. Beautiful, amazing, kind Sirius, who crushed his own feelings because he thought they were upsetting Remus. Merlin, he can't take it anymore. Clearly words aren't working for him right now, he has to try something else. Something that will express every single emotion that he has bottled up since he first went tripping and falling head over heels for his best friend.

His solution? Kiss the prat before he has a chance to second guess himself.

With that, he reaches out, grabs Sirius' jacket with one hand, pulls him in, and kisses him. At first, Sirius freezes, stunned, and Remus has an awful panic that he's gotten everything all wrong. Luckily for him, Sirius finally registers that Remus is kissing him and kisses him back.

It's...

Christ, it's everything Remus has ever imagined and more. It's like time stops as Remus' stomach swirls. Sirius' lips are soft against his, and his kiss is explorative, fucking mind blowing. He wraps his arms around Sirius' waist, feeling Sirius lean into the touch as he reaches out and cups Remus' cheek.

After what could be an hour, a few minutes, even a few seconds, just definitely not enough time, they both break away. Unfortunately, breathing exists, and Remus kind of needs to remember how to do that. Almost in unison, their foreheads press together, and Remus can feel a smile making its way onto his face.

"Well," Sirius starts, amused, "I guess this is our anniversary, then."

#i'm super happy with how this turned out #i have a whole separate thing explaining why they all thought it was wolfstars anniversary #it is though xoxo #ugh i love them #idiots #my idiots #wolfstar #sirius black #wolfstar oneshot #marauders #remus lupin #remus x sirius #young marauders #moony x padfoot #atyd marauders #marauders oneshot

[writersmess]

Ok, first of all

I LOVED the buck fanfic you wrote the other day, my heart...melting! So, I came back with a New idea! (If you want it, of course)

Now. Season 6 Was a rollercoaster of emotions, especially when buck got Hit by lighting. What if his fiance (from your other work) is by him day and night, being all calm and optimistic, knowing buck. And when he finally draws his first breath all alone, she just falls on her knees, crying and finally letting it all out what she held back all this time?

Now, if you don't want to do it, just simply skip 😊 no one forces you. Anyway! Have a great time and take Breaks, think about yourself.

COME BACK (TO REALITY) | EVAN BUCKLEY

Pairing: Evan Buckley x fem!reader

Summary: After being proposed to by Buck in the middle of the night, you didn’t expect an accident to change the course of your lives.

Warning: Mental breakdown, crying, hospital, mention of being struck by lightning.

Word count: 1.5k

a/n: oh my god, I didn’t think it would take me so long to get back. these months have been so crazy at work, I’ve been doing crazy shifts and I’m trying to get my social life back together again. I’ve missed writing for our troublemaker boy.

I hope you enjoy it!!! And I apologize if there’s any mistakes, English is not my first language.

It can be read as a sequel to Vivid Dream.

Masterlist

...........................................

“buck had an accident, we’re at the hospital”

All it took was one message to turn your life upside down.

It’s funny how life is a great well of irony. you spend half of your life by yourself, sometimes hoping to find your soulmate, sometimes not. and then you find them. and they’re everything you didn’t even know you were looking for.

It was amazing how you and buck matched but at the same time were so different. you were adorable. had the warmest and the most welcoming smiles and hugs, and the best advice anyone could ever need. and you were determined, you knew what you wanted for your future, ever since you were a kid. and buck, well, it was buck. the boy who ran away in the hope of finding himself and finding the true meaning of happiness.

which he didn’t imagine that it would be in those sparkling eyes of yours or in that sincere smile on your lips.

and you also didn’t expect to find it so soon in a man like buck. so spontaneous, with such a beautiful smile, and with such a traumatic past.

and that was your fiancé now.

after proposing at 4am in the middle of a shift. with no ring and definitely with no preparation, but with the greatest love that could fit inside of that heart full os scars of him.

“going on a call. love you”

The opened and unanswered message screamed in the car holder as you drove through the dark and empty streets of L.A.

you didn’t know what to expect, what could have happened. you took deep and long breathes, your hands shaking as you gripped the steering wheel, your heart pounding.

“He was struck by lightning”

you knew all the risks that this job entailed, but this was something totally beyond your imagination. it was something impossible to predict.

you paced back and forth in the corner of the waiting room, not wanting to see the looks of pity from your friends. buck would be fine soon, he would face this like he faced everything else.

Eddie without saying a word stopped in front of you and waited until you noticed his presence, so he could hug you. and that’s exactly what you needed at the moment.

“only one of you can go and see him now”

before the doctor had finished his sentence you were at his side, walking with him to the room where your best friend, your fiancé, was.

and he was there. sedated. intubated. It’s like your world was one step away from falling apart. You’d never felt like this before, like control was out of your hands. you had it all figured out, all the plans, the dreams, the next steps, everything was millimetrically planned. and suddenly it wasn’t anymore. your eyes were on Buck lying on the gurney, in such a deep sleep, his face was confused, his frown slightly furrowed, as if he was in an argument, or frustrated.

a few days has passed and Buck’s condition was stable. the days had been grayer, your apartment was empty and you didn’t feel like working, at all. but you woke up every day, put a smile on your face and tried to be optimistic, you had faith that he would get well, he needed to. he needed to come back to you.

You didn’t know it, but 118 commented about you, they thought you were in a state of shock. you didn’t cry, quite the opposite, you always had a smile on your face. when someone was worried about Buck’s situation, you would put your hand on their shoulder and tell them that everything would be fine, that he would be back soon. Eddie was very worried. he knew you, and he knew that you were going to fall apart at any moment, and he hoped to be around when it happened.

you were coming into Buck’s room when you saw Chris talking to your unconscious fiancé, and your eyes automatically filled with tears. you kept quiet and stood in the corner watching the scene and could see Eddie drying his tears, and your heart sank. you needed the love of your life back, Eddie needed his best friend back, Chris needed his playmate back. Buck needed to come back, he needed to fill in the gaps that were open in so many hearts.

“hey buddy, how was your conversation with Buck?” you made yourself noticed when Chris finished talking to him and he smiled when he saw you.

“is he going to be okay right?” Eddie could see you trying hard to hold back the tears, something he didn’t even bother to hide anymore.

“of course sweety, he’ll come back to us”

***

it was mid-afternoon, you were sitting in the chair next to his bed, trying to read a book, when your mind started to take you to places you didn’t want to go. everything started coming at you hard, all these feelings. it was an anxiety crisis. you felt your heart pounding, difficulty in drawing in air, and tears began to fall.

you approached the bed and held tightly onto the hand of the man lying in that bed.

“babe I can’t do it anymore. I can’t put a smile on my face and pretend that everything is fine when it isn’t. I need you here with me. I know you’ll be fine, I know it. but Chris, Eddie, damn it, everyone, needs you back, we need you, I need you, and I don’t know how to go on without you here, I don’t know. So i need you to fight for me, for us, fight and win this battle babe, win it for me and don’t leave me, please don’t leave me”

And you couldn’t imagine it, but the other end of the line that connected Buck to this plan was in you. He clung to that, he clung to you, to the thought of having you again, and for that he fought, for you he broke the glass that separated him between dream and reality, between life and death, it was for you that everything was worth it. Because of you he would come back.

And he did it.

You could feel a grip on your hand, it was light, but it was there. your eyes widened and your heart skipped a beat. this couldn’t be a reflex, you couldn’t believe it was. and it really wasn’t, your Buck was coming back, he was reacting.

As if he’d sensed it, Eddie appeared in the room with the coffee he’d gone to grab, at the exactly moment your knees failed, and he held you.

“I-Is he...?”

“Hey hey, calm down”

You couldn’t complete the sentence, and before your friend could question you, you heard a weak cough, it was Buck, he really was there. back to you.

You were holding Buck’s hand as if your life depended on it, and to be honest, it kind of did. you, who had never fallen in love in your life, were completely surrendered to those blue eyes that you had begged to see again.

You didn’t notice the moment Eddie left the room, but when your eyes met Buck’s, you burst into tears. He couldn’t say much, and you didn’t even need or want him to try, he was there, that’s all that mattered at the moment. you had your head resting on your intertwined hands on the bed, and the sobs coming from your lips left the words stuck in your throat and in your mind. Buck slowly and painfully raised his trembling hand, reaching your head and resting his hand there.

He waited until you calmed down, and his chest tightened at the way you looked at him. your lips trembling and your face wet from the tears that kept falling down your cheeks.

“you’re back”

“for you” his voice was weak and hoarse.

“I never thought I could love someone the way I love you, buck. please don’t do it again, I know I can’t take it one more time” your voice was low and trembling.

“I proposed to you, I had to come back to make sure it would happen,” he whispered with that little smile on his lips.

“You idiot, you made me a promise to love me for the rest of my days, I was going to pick you up wherever you were,” you replied in a whisper and placed a light kiss on his lips, afraid of hurting him.

“I love you, and i’m going to keep that promise” he said and you nodded your head.

that intimate moment between you lasted only a few minutes, then the nurses and doctor entered the room to check on Buck and as soon as they allowed his friends to come in, the mess was made. there was laughter and loud conversation, happy hugs and stories about the day of the accident, you could hear “too soon?” too many times in a short period of time and all you could do was laugh.

You could see the happiness in your fiancé’s eyes as everyone gathered around, and you finally felt your heart calm down. he was really there, he came back to you and you could finally live out your vivid dreams together.

#911 imagine #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #911 fanfic #buck x reader #evan buck buckley

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

GET WATERCOLORED, BITCH!!!!

I've been tweaking my design for our lovely Master Kohga. Some rambling under the cut: (and update on your requests)

First of all, I want to say that I tried watercoloring on top of a pencil drawing a few months ago and it was a DISASTER (it was a drawing of wolfie from shrek. I took a scan beforehand but oof it was bad), the pencil was smudging all over the place. This time I used spray fixative and I'm super happy with the results!! Coloring isn't my metier at all, and I think I'm more of a quantity over quality type person, so I don't like spending so much time on one drawing. But I used to watercolor when I was a young teen, and this was a fun throwback to those times.

Also, some changes to his design! I gave him a dr. robotnik ass looking moustache, because he is an evil yet silly viddy game man and he deserves one like all the greats. His beard is a little more believable looking now too. Also changed the number of earrings on one ear, because I dislike symmetry. I wanted him to have some moles, so he's got some in the shape of a Y now. Kind of a stretch but, ya know, I'm trying.

I WANT to give him some cool traditional looking tattoos, but I don't want them to cover large portions of his body. I'm gonna have to figure that one out later.

ALSO, THANK YOU SO MUCH TO ALL THE PEOPLE WHO GAVE ME KOHGA REQUESTS!!!!

I'm so excited to start those, but commissions have been bogging me down like crazy. I really want to draw more of him, but I don't want to make it a job and feel obliged to draw them all immediately. I'll work on your requests little by little for fun when I have time. Some of them are making me chuckle, ngl.

Thanks for being so nice and sending me affirming messages too! I wasn't expecting people to resonate so much with how I'm drawing him, but I'm really happy for it. 💖

#master kohga #master kohga fanart #totk #tears of the kingdom #loz #the yiga clan #yiga clan #yiga #loz fanart #zelda #zelda fanart #totk fanart #traditional art #traditional drawing #character design #watercolor #watercolour #sketchbook

[batneko]

okay SO, childhood friends idea inspired by a suggestion from @hyperfixatingonbowuigisohard and the Yoshi's Island games. I still don't have a story exactly but I do have a lot of Thoughts.

Mario and Luigi are around three or four years old, old enough to talk but not to really articulate what's happening or how they're feeling. It's during a time when the parents think grandma is watching them and grandma thinks the parents decided to take them after all, and when they get home everything seems fine so the adults don't bother to compare notes. But we're getting ahead of ourselves.

Bowser is a couple years older, and small kids develop so fast that most wouldn't want to play with one much younger ("that's a baby!!!") but he's so desperate for a friend even close to his own age that he jumps at the change to spend time with this strange child that stumbled into his castle.

But... little Bowser has been so spoiled by Kamek and the other servants raising him that he has no idea how to play nicely. Luigi is terrified of him at first and starts bawling the moment Bowser "orders" him to play. For the first time in his short life, Bowser has a problem that can't be solved by yelling, crying, OR throwing things. He has to control his temper and learn to - what's it called again? - share.

Despite that the week that little Luigi spends with him is the happiest Bowser has ever been, and even that short amount of time has such an impact on his personality that he almost seems like a different person by the end. He accidentally bumps into Kamek and says "sorry" without being prompted and Kamek is so shocked he has to have a lie-down.

But at the end of that week, little Mario suddenly shows up with a pack of yoshis who seem to know where the boys belong, and Kamek knows it's not right to just keep a lost child. He also knows that there's no way Bowser is going to agree to let his first-ever friend go away and maybe never see him again, so Kamek smuggles Luigi out while Bowser is asleep and tells him his family came to get him. It's technically true.

Bowser is devastated. He screams, cries, throws things, and finally begs, but there's nothing anyone can do, Luigi is already gone. He's miserable for months, but eventually the sadness turns into anger. If his friend wanted to come back, why doesn't he?

Time passes. The memories fade. He's left with equal parts fascination by and resentment of humans, and the subconscious belief that if you give the people you love any chance to leave you, they will.

Meanwhile Mario and Luigi have gone home, and both of them are suddenly talking a lot about dinosaurs. That's not unusual, kids love dinosaurs, the parents figure they saw a cool book or movie with one of their cousins. But while Mario seems to think of dinosaurs as big animals that you run around with, Luigi keeps asking when he can go see "the dinosaur" again. He gets upset when his parents don't know what he means, but he keeps asking, again and again, for months. Every time they think he forgot he asks again, and no movie or museum visit or plush toy seems to be the answer.

He draws a lot of spiky green balls in this time. Eventually the parents decide that "the dinosaur" must be his imaginary friend and try to play along. It doesn't work, Luigi is still upset, but he's young and eventually he really does forget.

Years later family members will still sometimes bring up "Luigi's imaginary friend the dinosaur" as a cute anecdote. It's a little embarrassing, but he doesn't mind it too much.

And then it's twenty-plus years later and Mario and Luigi find themselves in a world that's full of adventure and magic and - yes - dinosaurs. There's a feeling of déjà vu but there are bigger things to worry about at the moment, and neither of them have any real reason to think they've been to this world before.

The first meeting doesn't go well. Bowser kidnaps Peach, the bros come to her rescue, and it ends in a big fight. Bowser does have a moment's pause when he first sees the bros, but Mario takes that opportunity to attack him and it's downhill from there.

There are several more clashes as time goes on. Sometimes it's just Mario, sometimes it's both of them, but after enough meetings people start to notice... Bowser controls his temper better around Luigi.

At first Mario thought it was just because Bowser hates him specifically, but no, other people have noticed it too. For some reason when Luigi is there Bowser is actually capable of showing restraint. Not even Peach brings that out of him. It's weird.

(Mario does wonder if Bowser kind of has a thing for his brother, but he can't bring himself to say it out loud.)

Luigi isn't scared of Bowser either, not the way he probably should be, given the whole giant monster/serial kidnapper thing. It's too awkward to ask Bowser why he's different around Luigi, but Mario asks Luigi why he's not afraid, and Luigi can't put his finger on it. He just Knows that Bowser is more bark than bite. He's not sure why.

So that's where things stand; Bowser and Luigi are both more comfortable with each other than anything about their personalities or situation seems to justify, and nobody knows why.

...Except Kamek who, as the only adult in the situation, figures out who the bros are almost immediately and promptly decides to Keep His Damn Mouth Shut. That reveal is not going to lead to good things for him.

#bowuigi #childhood friends au #childhood friends #bowigi #green shell #luwser #super mario bros #bowser x luigi #might continue this later I do have a few ideas for how they start to catch on

[sweet-dreams-internal-screams]

Camp Counselor Ethan Hcs🤭

HES SO POOKIE UGH I CANNOT

Warnings ⚠️ swearing, drinking, suggestive comments, no gf, children 👎🏾 fem!reader

This man LOVES being a counselor and as his s/o he ropes you and everyone else into helping that following summer

He’s in charge of the shyer kids because they feel more comfortable with him (and he used to be one)

Chad and Ethan’s cabins are right next to each other and if he’s not with you he’s with Chad (since he isn’t so hellbent on stabbing Chad)

LOVES TUG OF WAR WITH CHADS CABIN gets slightly over competitive

He’s making sure his cabin is going ALL out for color wars

Unfortunately you guys are on opposite sides of the camp and it’s not a long walk but being so far🙄 makes him touch starved and horny

He doesn’t know it until you or Mindy says something but all the 12 year old girls have the biggest crushes on him but he’s so unaware of it. (This would’ve been me at camp lolz)

When you guys tell him he gets beet red in shock.

When it’s arts and crafts time he always makes sure his group is sitting next yours

when he notices one of his campers crushing on yours he takes upon himself to help the little fella out (he also uses it to spend time with you)

He likes most of the other counselors

Especially if they swapped with him so you two could spend time together

But he really just likes hanging with the kids and listening to their stories

“.And Tommy started talking about his hot wheel collection and apparently he’s got this collection of rare ones”

Also LOVES camper drama

Him and Annika love debriefing each other

Campers are very shocked when they learn you two are dating (this is early in the summer)

WHEN HE DOES A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET DEMO HE PUTS IT ON YOU AWWW

When the campers see the look he gives you as you get off lifeguard duty or lake time with your girls

They try harder to push you two together but when you guys realize you just play into it

“ yeah girls you’re right Ethan is kindaaaa cute”

“Idk guys I DO think Y/n/n is very pretty”

When you guys do canoeing he’s always your partner

“ETH BABE YOURE GONNA FLIP US” (this is how they “figure” it out)

“Yeah Counselor Y/N called Ethan BABE”

The campers love the two of you

But mainly him- he’s always getting small drawings or projects from kids and he always keeps them

LOVES leading nature courses and talking about bugs

This man LOVES S’mores probably his favorite treat (he’s definitely the type to burn the marshmallow) that’s actually me self projecting lolz

Okay suggestive/NSFW warning

He’s obviously a guy and going a WHOLE two months is a lot and seeing you gets him riled up regardless

Those looks during Lifeguard duty weren’t sweet loving ones (they were but also 😈 lol)

He loves seeing you tan with your girls and lies down in front of you if it’s a lake and lays on his stomach so he can get a “good view of the campers” good view of your chest

During Counselor Night he keeps you on his lap by the bonfire while you both sip on Alcohol that was snuck in

You guys sneak off and fuck in the woods GOODBYE

he brought a blanket incase he got lucky

He got lucky and thank goodness because he would’ve exploded

Cannot help staring if you’re wearing shorts

And Chad teases him about this (but then Tara walks by)

Get jealous if other counselors flirt with you this may or may not lead to steamy makeouts behind trees

One morning he surprised you on the cabin porch for a makeout session and accidentally moaned too loud causing some of your campers to wake up (he pulled away in time but was hurt his noises cut your time short)

If you guys sneak off during Color wars a nosy camper HAS to ask why there’s red face paint on him and blue on you

Chad and Ethan smoke behind their Cabins at night and talk about you and Tara

Loves doing physical labor near you so you get riled up as much a he is

A/N: I feel like I wrote too much lol but hope you like Pt.2?

Also this is inspired by Murdrdocs go check theirs out!!

Also please request I’m so bored when I’m not writing

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream #scream 2023 #scream 6 #chad meeks martin #tara carpenter

[loving-jack-kelly]

listen i think it's like. davey falls in love immediately and davey is very aware of it and davey resigns himself to never being anything more than friends and davey takes what he can get. an arm around his shoulders. a moment of holding hands trying not to get separated in a crowd. leaning against each other on the couch. silly conversations after both of them should already have been asleep. and it's fine. it's just fine, it's not good, but it's not bad, because davey falls in love more every time they talk and davey falls in love more every time he hears jack laugh but davey also gains a better friend than he's ever had and davey gains a person he can be himself around and davey gains a group of people who don't weigh him down with more expectations that he can barely hold on his shoulders and so it's fine. it's okay. it's fine.

and jack doesn't fall in love immediately and jack isn't aware of anything and jack has no idea for months that davey has become such a solid part of his life that a future without him is unthinkable. but then he starts to notice some things and those things start to make an appearance in daydreams and drawings and sometimes in conversations where they have no business being. he starts noticing the way davey tips his whole head back when he laughs and the way he quirks his eyebrows before tearing into somebody for something mean or wrong or stupid they thought they could away with saying in front of him. he notices the careful way davey contains himself around his parents and the way that tension melts away when it's just the two of them, and he notices the undertones in davey's voice when he says "I love my family but sometimes I wish they'd let me figure things out on my own." and so jack doesn't fall in love immediately and he isn't aware of anything and he has no idea for months but once it hits.

well. once it hits it's all jack can think about because he's never been in love like this before and he has no idea what to do with himself and no idea how to handle it. and davey, who has been in love this whole time and who has accepted that things will never be more than the fine they've ended up at, refuses to read into anything. like when jack starts finding more excuses to throw an arm over his shoulder, that can't mean anything new. or when when jack refuses to let go of his hand even when they've made it outside the crowd, that can't mean anything, either. and leaning against each other on the couch, jack's head dipping down to rest on his shoulder or jack's arm draped across his waist instead of kept off to the side, those mean nothing. they can't mean anything because if they mean something they mean something and that's far more terrifying to reckon with than a lifetime of fine with an undercurrent of wishing for something else.

so that's where it stays. building and building and building, davey loving quietly and melancholic but determined to be satisfied the way things are and jack loving so hard he feels like he might explode but completely unsure of what to do with that feeling. they spend nights talking around it. "don't you want to run away?" asks davey, hoping jack will confirm again that all this hope is silly and davey should really just get on with getting over him. "there's too much good here to leave behind," jack says, hoping that davey will understand that he means no matter how badly he wants to run he wants to be with davey more. "don't you wish love worked like a fairytale?" jack asks, knowing that if it did davey would sweep him off his feet and they'd ride off into the sunset together forever. "no, happy endings would never be the ever after that everyone wanted" davey says, knowing that if love were a fairtale jack would marry his princess and leave davey the sidekick behind, forgotten.

but the thing about love like this, that becomes so big and so present and that both people are so aware of but unwilling to talk about is that it isn't always quiet and nice and settled. sometimes, it rears up and it's mean and ugly and sometimes it doesn't feel so much like love. it becomes a jealous spike and a spiteful comment when davey sees jack spending too much time flirting with and teasing somebody else. it becomes jack having too many opinions about davey's other friends, the ones he doesn't even know and hasn't bothered to try. it becomes arguing around the thing, late night conversations that turn into whispered debates where neither of them will say what they're really feeling and neither of them will listen to what the other is trying to say because things needs to stay the same. they can't change one way or another because that's terrifying and isn't better if things just stay...fine?

and i think. davey is the one who snaps first. davey who has spent his whole life compressing himself into other people's boxes, pushing down different parts of himself to fit whatever any situation needs, finally snapping from the pressure of doing it in the relationship that never felt like he needed to until everything became a fight. why should he keep pretending to be something he isn't? why should he keep pretending to be someone he's not?

and i don't think it's easy. i think it's mean and petty and easy to assume the worst, easy for davey to assume jack has know all along and has been playing with davey this whole time. easy for jack to assume that davey is saying things he doesn't mean because they're fighting and he knows it cuts too deep. they argue and get upset and spend the night and maybe a few days stewing and wondering is this the breaking point, is this where we end all of this, is there where I finally let my heart break?

but the thing is. neither of them can walk all the way away and they both know it. davey remembers the expression jack gets when he's lost in a drawing and knows he's never not been in love with him even when it feels like this. jack thinks about the way davey's hands move when he talks about something he cares about and knows that he can't walk away even though maybe it would be easier.

and if davey is the one who snaps, jack is the one who spends time figuring out exactly what to say. he's terrified and nauseous and not sure if this is what he should be doing, but when he explains himself it's careful and honest and blunt, all of the things he hasn't said since the minute he realized he was in love with davey laid out neat and gentle and real. and davey, for all he stopped pretending, can't quite believe it. not that he thinks jack is lying, exactly, but maybe he's mistaken. jack can't love davey, not the way davey loves jack, because not only would that mean all the stupid arguments and passive-aggressive moments of the last however long it's been happening have been over nothing, but that would mean jack feels this expansive, consuming, whole body love that davey has been living with for so long. that would mean jack understands and if jack understands, why has davey been okay with things being just fine for so long?

and adjusting to the truth being between them is, I think, hard. davey keeps catching himself about to say something and having to force himself to say it out loud because he's spent so long not letting himself. and jack keeps having to force himself to feel things without chasing the feeling away because he's spent so long refusing to process any of it because that would mean processing the fear. conversations are hard. change is hard. figuring out new dynamics is hard.

but when davey starts noticing that jack is taking his hand with no excuse and wrapping both arms around his waist whenever he has a chance and tipping their heads together when they sit side by side, and when he starts noticing that jack has a special smile that only ever seems to be aimed at him, and he he starts noticing that late night conversations have gone back to what they were like in the very beginning when they were about everything and nothing and more than just words, that's when he notices that things aren't fine anymore. they're good. and when jack starts noticing that davey is relaxed with him, not putting on a face, and when he starts noticing the way davey laughs at even the stupidest of his jokes without seeming insincere, and when he notices that davey has a serious, thoughtful expression that he only seems to wear when he's talking with jack, that's when he notices that this doesn't feel so confusing and scary anymore. it feels good.

#and in the background their mutual besties crutchie and race are talking every night about #please god PLEASE let them get their shit together right now we can't HANDLE this anymore #newsies #javid #jack kelly #davey jacobs

[cinnamontimecrunch]

Somewhere Only We Know

 [x gn!reader, could be read as platonic or romantic, 689 words]

[takes place after his overblot, so there may be spoilers for that! Also sorry this is so rushed, I had this idea and wanted to get it out before his birthday ended!]

Vil’s alarm went off at 6:00am the morning of his birthday. He reached for his phone to turn the alarm off, and saw the thousands of Magicam notifications. He figured he’d spend a few minutes looking through them and reply to a few. One of the first to catch his eye was a post made by Neige LeBlanche. His lips pursed into a line and his eyebrows furrowed lightly, before shaking the tension away. He had been trying to work on his unpleasant feelings towards Neige for the past few months, but the task was proving to be more arduous than he had expected. He sighed softly and liked the post, commenting a polite thank you.

The rest of his notifications and texts were similar, filled with birthday wishes from coworkers and fans alike, as well as a text from Rook from midnight the night before. Vil turned his phone off and stood up to get ready for the day. He stepped around an expanse of gifts in his room that must have been brought in by his dorm members, not paying them any mind as he made his way to his bathroom. 

He heard a knock on his door in the middle of doing his morning skincare routine. He grimaced, ready to admonish whichever dorm member decided to interrupt his morning routine.His face became one of confusion, however, when he heard Rook’s muffled voice.

“Roi du Poison, your favorite Trickster is here to see you! And they bring a gift!” Vil’s face softened ever-so-slightly at the mention of your presence.

“You may let them in.” He replied, leaving his bathroom. He hadn’t even put on makeup yet, and he wondered when you became someone he trusted enough to see him without it. 

When you entered, he gave you a soft, practiced smile. 

“What brings you here, prefect?” He said, noticing your hands behind your back.

“I wanted to wish you a happy birthday! I was going to send you a text, but I figured you’d be getting lots of those, and I didn’t want my message to get lost in the shuffle.” You replied.

He smiled to himself. He knew you could never get lost in the shuffle. He had your messages pinned, and you had your own ringtone and text tone. You didn’t need to know that, though.

“I appreciate that.” He replied calmly. “Now, if I may ask, what is it you have behind your back? Rook mentioned a gift?”

Your cheeks flushed slightly as you looked at the lavish gifts littering his floor.

“Don’t get too excited, it’s not nearly as nice as the gifts you have here, I don’t have the money for that.” You joked, laughing nervously.

You pull the gift out from behind your back, and he sees that it’s a photo album. A cheap one you likely bought from Sam’s store, covered in stickers and little drawings. Vil took it from your hands and began flipping through it. They were all pictures of him, but not pictures he was used to seeing. None of them had his practiced smile, nor the sultry gaze he had perfected over the years. No, in these photos, he was laughing, and really smiling. His teeth were showing, his eyes were crinkled, and his cheeks flushed. He was pulled out of his reverie by your voice.

“It’s not much, but I’ve been taking candids of you since your overblot, of times when you looked really happy. I know it isn’t really expensive or anything, but-”

“Nonsense.” He interrupted, his smile widening. “This is the best gift I’ve gotten.”

He put his hands on your shoulders and pulled you in for a hug, for once not worried about whether it would wrinkle his clothes.

“Thank you, prefect.” He said, tears gathering in his eyes as he hugged you tighter.

Who would’ve thought that the magicless prefect who, a year ago he wouldn’t have even spared a second glance, would be the one to break down his barriers? He wasn’t sure how it happened, but he hoped that you would continue to worm your way into his heart.

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland x reader #TWST x reader #Vil Schoenheit #Vil Schoenheit x reader #cinnamon.fics

[theashemarie]

Something that really strikes me about the Rise movie (and I've been thinking about nonstop for literal weeks) is the stuff that was cut and how it opens up the little bit of the future we get to see. Leo's arm is a certain fascination, because there was a small thread that was cut from the movie where, in the present, we learn that Donnie built robot versions of his brothers. We see evidence of this in the deleted scene where Donnie recognizes the past tense in Casey's little speech about him. It's a blink and you miss it moment--but Mikey says "I hope real Raph's okay," and you can even see that this line made it to final animation because the lip sync in the movie there doesn't match up completely. Mikey's lips keep moving for a second after his voice stops.

This directly informs Leo's arm in the future. It's Robo Raph's arm. The world is ending and supplies are rare. Tech is hard to come by. Hell, Robo Leo (and Robo Donnie) was probably destroyed at some point, but Donnie still had Robo Raph's arm and he repurposed it for Leo to use.

Donnie is everywhere in the small snapshot of the future we get to see: the purple flying craft that goes down, Leo's arm, the fact that Casey's tech still works, the fact that Leo's arm still works. His presence is so loud that he couldn't have been gone for very long, but, more importantly, the fact of Leo's arm is such a strong, loving detail that I lie in bed thinking about it.

It was a necessity, yes, but it was an undertaking. Your brother loses an arm fighting a war that you're losing, and he's a sword fighter. So, you strap in and you figure it out. You have a working (or passable) thing that's already an arm, so you fix it up and you spend weeks, months, maybe even years, trying to figure out how to wire it into his neural network. Leo is able to draw with it in the final moments of the first scene, so it's capable of fine motor movement. Donnie bootstrapped his way to a prosthesis that was capable of interfacing with his brother's brain by probably using scraps he picked up off the ground.

It's a testament to his smarts, but it's also an action of intense love and tenderness. Leo could've learned to fight with one arm. Donnie's brains were needed elsewhere, but he found the time and resources, and he probably worked with Leo for hours, days, weeks to get it working, to improve his motor function, to get him back to where he was.

And the kicker? It's Raph's arm. Sure, it's an approximation of Raph, but it's still him. Leo carries a piece of Raph with him, a piece that Donnie built with his own hands, but it's still Raph. At the end of it all, Leo uses the arm that Donnie built, the arm that represents Raph, to throw Casey through the portal that Mikey opened.

It takes all four of them to save the world, whether they realize it or not.

#rottmnt #rottmnt movie spoilers #tmnt #rise movie spoilers #ashe talks #i'm normal about this movie clearly #maybe someday i'll write a small oneshot about this because it's kicking around my brain like a kid on a skateboard #t///cest this post is not for you #ashe writes

[idontlikeem]

i'd like to talk about grieving, a little bit. as in the past, discussions of death and cancer below the cut, don't read if this will hurt you, etc....i'm having a bad day and i just need to stream of consciousness for a little bit. sorry.

so my mom died. if you've read my personal posts before or whatever, you probably figured that out. it happened on thursday february 15th around noon. luckily we had a bit of notice that it was coming, so i was able to drive down the saturday prior and spend time with her—three full days where she was pretty much still herself, and part of a fourth.

it's been a really hard month. like, obviously. but i think a part of me still wasn't quite ready for it. i don't know how.

my mom was first diagnosed with breast cancer in fall 2011. she had a mastectomy and went through chemo, and that was hard and scary, but it was i think technically considered stage one—a tumor that was definitely growing fast, but it hadn't spread out of the area, like not to her lymph nodes or anything, and with the treatment she went almost ten years totally symptom-free. right at the start of the pandemic, the cancer came back, but this time it was already stage four, and it was in her abdomen and uterus and intestines.

there was a time when we weren't sure she'd live more than a year. endometrial and other reproductive cancers aren't 'sexy' like breast cancer is, they're not widely studied and there aren't a lot of treatment options. when she had breast cancer i hated 'save the boobies' campaigns (and please never donate to susan komen), but now that my family has lived with another type of cancer that doesn't have tits as a draw, i hate them even more.

my mom made it four years, pretty much, since the first diagnosis. she did chemo, and radiation, and went on medication trials, and put her body through hell to try and fight it. she lived longer than i think any of us thought she would.

the problem with that is how long i've been existing in a state of grief.

i've had years to prepare for this. i've thought about it literally thousands of times—how i'd feel, how i'd tell people, what i'd do after. i pictured it, because i was trying to plan. i was trying to get myself ready.

turns out pre-grieving isn't real. turns out you can't get this pain out of the way by experiencing it in advance. much to my chagrin. i'm not sure there was a way to avoid it, though. so here i am, with four years of grief behind me, and not one second of it has made what's going on now any easier.

some days i forget. every time i'm on twitter or instagram, there are posts i want to send her, and then i don't know what to do with myself. for all that my relationship with her had its hard times, she was my mom, she was my best friend. i love her more than anything and i don't know what to do with myself now that she's gone.

i've been sort of just surviving for the last four weeks. my apartment is a mess, i'm barely leaving, i haven't been good at responding to people. so today i thought i'd at least clean up a little. i'd gone to target a day or two before i drove down to my parents', and i figured i would start with those bags, because they were just sitting there.

i'd forgotten that i bought valentine's day cards for my whole family that i wanted to send. one for each of my brothers, one for my dad, one for my mom. i never sent them, obviously, i didn't even bring them with me. i burst into tears when i pulled them out of the bag, and i've been crying pretty much all day since then. i'm never going to pick out a card for my mom ever again.

i also have a notes app file sitting on my phone. she wrote each of us letters, and my dad sent them out to us, but i haven't been able to open mine yet. it's the last new thing she'll ever say to me. how could i possibly be ready for that? how do i know when the right time to read that will be?

one thing my mom wanted was to die at home. she didn't want it to be in a hospital, and i get it. she spent a month in the hospital after christmas, and god knows how much time cumulatively over the last four years. the fact that she was able to push to get home is something i don't understand, because she was so sick—but she did it somehow. she was able to die in her bed.

and i was with her. like. i wasn't just at home, i was with her.

something they don't tell you about having someone die is you have to start arranging stuff before it actually happens. when we woke up on the 15th, we knew it was only a matter of time—her eyes weren't all the way open and her breath was labored, and she couldn't talk, although at first she still tried to say stuff. we sat there with her and kept her company and talked to her. hospice came by around 11 or 11:30, i don't even remember, and said that based on whatever measurements or readings they take (pupils? breathing? i don't know), it would be between 4-8 hours, and he recommended that my dad call the funeral home. because you have to do that first.

so my youngest brother was driving down from where he lives, my middle brother was in his room, my dad was in his room on the phone, and i stayed with her, because....well, of course, right? and i was just kind of talking, and crying, but trying not to...i don't know, beg her to stay? ask for more time? the nurse said she could still hear, they're pretty sure that hearing and understanding what's being said is the last thing to go, and i didn't want her to feel bad or guilty, or to hurt herself in an effort to stay longer even though there's nothing more that i've ever wanted in my life.

so i told her, you know, we'll be okay. it's going to be unbearably sad, and it's going to suck, but all the stuff we did as a family with her—we'll still do it. and we'll be okay. and there's nothing more important to us than her not hurting anymore, not being miserable and stuck and just...not herself. all that matters to us right now is her, and she didn't have to worry about us, because we'd be okay.

and she took in a breath. there was a pause. she took in another one. and she stopped. that was it.

i didn't even realize at first, not right the second it happened. the hospice booklet had talked about a 'death rattle', about how it happens almost all the time, but that it's more distressing for the people with the person dying than them, that they're not in pain. how the fuck would they know that, i'm not sure i believe it, but...it's what i was expecting. that didn't happen, though. she just stopped breathing.

the amount of guilt i felt for my dad being out of the room...i don't know if that will ever leave me. he said it was ok, because he was having to deal with stuff, and he'd spent a lot of time with her and it was fine, but jesus. how do i not feel like i stole that from him?

i've felt like a shell ever since. i'm back where i live, and i'm getting up and going to work and taking care of my dog and trying to stay connected to life, but...i don't know.

how is it that she's gone? how is this possible? how am i supposed to go the rest of my life without her?

i had four years to get ready for this, and i wasn't. i don't think there's any way i really could have been, but still. it doesn't seem fair that it was so hard for so long, and for NOTHING. nothing is easier now.

i'm sick of feeling sad, and hurt. i feel like i should be over it or something? i don't know, maybe just less actively affected? it's been a month. people's parents die all the time, right?

what am i supposed to do?

#personal

[archandshri]

23rd Feb '24 - [arch] OH RISO my beloved!!!!!! ft. cyberpunk hermitcraft soup group

A cliffhanger!!!! And now I have to wait a month for you to upload the second half?? How will I cope :’’0

For real, it’s so awesome to see your process and the sheer amount of inspiration you take! In particular, I thought ‘Sit on Two Chairs’ and ‘This Was Our Pact’ were particularly yummy. 

I think book covers are really hard. You have to sum up a book’s energy in one image, make it stand out and show just enough so people want more. Exploring the narrative through those full pages is really interesting - though this is something you did for fun, it could be a really useful technique for getting to know a narrative. When I’m designing my comic covers, I always do it last - that way I’ve had practice with the visual style and I’m thoroughly familiar with the themes, so I guess spending a bit of time with the characters and narrative in this way helps for standalone book covers too. Of course, it helps if you have the time for that XD

Okay!! Onto what I've been up to!!! [warning this is a beefy post I'm sorry for your poor reading brain]

The past two weeks have been really enjoyable! I’ve been playing a lot with slow world-building, in sketchbooks, google documents, and voice notes to friends. Letting myself really sit with concepts, think about the characters, let them play in my head with no expectations. With this relaxation and lack of pressure, some beautiful narratives and interactions have been developing. I’m starting to need a name for a world/ the story. I’m not quite ready to give them a full introduction to the internet - I know it doesn’t but it feels like there’s some accountability to *produce something* and this slow development is really important for the quality and my skill building. It’s really hard to take on, but we actually don’t have to make the perfect thing now! In fact, it’s impossible. Pressure on ourselves makes it so hard to make something good if we’re always grasping at the final result.  In the meantime, while those characters develop, I have been working hard on my basic skills. I wrote about characterization last post, but this week I focused on setting and colour. I was inspired (once again) by Hermitcraft. I’ve seen some really incredible illustrations of Minecraft builds in the fandom, and it seems like a great exercise.

Bdouble0's Season 10 Base illustrated by @applestruda [source] and The Red Zone, built and illustrated by Bdouble0 [source]

One of the creators on Hermitcraft, ImpulseSV, created this build in a recent episode. It takes inspiration from the last season of Hermitcraft, where he was part of the ‘soup group’ with two other players, and his current base concept - a cyberpunk city.  I also LOVE his new character design, so I wanted to place him in the scene.

Screenshot from Impulse's video and new impulse design by @maxx-doodles

Here are some initial thumbnails I did, trying to figure out the composition. I wasn’t sure of the vibe yet, so I tried some rough thumbnailing, and drawing on an isometric grid and other perspective techniques. I’m going a bit mad for characters at the mo, so I wanted to place some in the scene. I found the angle of the isometric grid steep to place characters comfortably, so decided against that.

Looking back at it, I love the second! But I believe I was struggling with the perspective. I decided on the last one eventually.

Now, I absolutely adore all of the players in the Soup Group, and I am BIG fan of redesigning their notable characteristics to suit different settings. So yes, I decided to put all of the soup group in the image.

PearlescentMoon (left) from my comic and GeminiTay's Hermitcraft Season 10 design [from this thumbnail] (right)

Here's the sketch of the final image. I really enjoyed coming up with cyberpunk versions of them all. I used the impulse design almost exactly, with a few extra interesting details since he's mostly viewed from the back. For PearlescentMoon (middle) I kept her fringe, dark hair and gave her a glowing moon symbol on her top. For GeminiTay, I kept her long ginger hair, antlers (but glowing!) and took inspiration from her new season 10 design - a dark blue jumpsuit to match her dark blue clothes in her new design, and the braids she is often drawn with. I also gave them edgy new hairstyles. And a robot arm. I don't have lore for that.

As usual, I filled each flat colour-to-be with black and lowered the opacity to play with the values. Then I added colours one at a time, aware might be riso printing it. Originally I stuck to trying to make it printable (making the colours out of ones I could make my layering 2-3 colours at different opacities), but as I went on, I decided to drop that and focus on the quality of the image in a digital format alone. I did keep the grayscale version above with all the separate layers in case I needed that if/when I came to riso printing it. Below are the main two digital colour schemes I tried out.

I settled on the one on the left, with the blue tones - the foreground characters really pop. I put a few details in Gem's hair, colour variations etc, and cropped it for Instagram. I actually much prefer the cropped version - it sits better in a rule of thirds.

Now the moment we've all been waiting for :'')

RISO!!!!!!!!!!!

I returned to Cardiff after a couple of months away and was delighted to spend my first day back at The Printhaus, an awesome shared print studio where I have basically made my home. A few of my awesome friends happened to be there, so I spent the day playing around with this image with their help! (please check them out they're very cool - Gavin helped me a lot (we hung out at Thought Bubble, remember? and Rhi gave good crits too!!)

For those who don't know, risograph is basically a shitty photocopier that can only print one colour at a time. However, you can play with gradients and opacities, and layer colours really nicely to combine. I've done a lot of single-colour tonal work with riso but this is my first go really layering.

First, Gavin showed me how to separate the channels in Photoshop, using the flat image uploaded to the 'gram. We copied and pasted these layers in grayscale and added blending modes to each layer to replicate what they might look like when printed.

With blending modes, the digital mockup looked like this!!

This bit goes into technical details for replicating what the print might look like for those who might want it - feel free to skip :)))

I copied and pasted the Cyan, Black and Magenta layers as greyscale (as you can see above)

I made all of the greyscale layers multiply layers since risograph ink is transparent and we wanted to see how it layers. The ink usually comes out a bit lighter than you think, so it's good to bear that in mind. I used a clipping mask over each greyscale layer and a blending mode. WHEN YOU PRINT, PRINT IN GREYSCALE, NOT COLOUR.

Here's how I split the colours from CMYK to the riso colours, their hex codes and the blending mode I used to replicate the colours:

Cyan - Mint [HEX#82D8D5] Screen Magenta - Fluorescent Pink [HEX#FF48B0] Screen Black - Blue [HEX#0078BF] Overlay Yellow - scrapped for colour scheme purposes

Blue, Mint and Florencent Pink layers in greyscale in Procreate.

Riso printed Mint and Florescent Pink layers on separate paper, followed by the two layered together.

We always start with the lighter colour inks first, because sometimes the rollers can pick up the ink and cause extra marks where you don't want them. The first two colours came out great!

The first time we printed the blue, it came out very dark (left, first image). I have had this issue before - my last book, Winter Wellbeing, came out much darker than I wanted. Now I realise that the blue ink is super sensitive. All the 'white space' that is covered by a low-opacity blue on the left is only 2%, and yet it has come out pretty strong. We tried printing it on one of the misaligned images just to see, but it took all of the brightness out of the neon soup sign at the top of the image (second image). So I changed the values and pushed them way lighter, so it just pushed the values of the darker bits slightly, and brightened some of the lineart (right, first image)

And this is the final riso printed version!! I'm so so happy with how this came out. It's so different from the original digital version, and I actually love that.

I didn't create new colours in the way that I intended to - I wanted to play with overlaying purposefully to create specific colours eg. orange for the hair etc. But!!! I'm really happy with how it came out. That will have to be a project for next time.

Also, many copies are slightly misaligned, so in future I think I'd do flat layers for the colours a more blobby style with the linework on one layer only so there's less of a chance for obvious misalignment. design for the riso, rather than riso the design.

Overall though, this feels like a super cool step up and a milestone for me. Super happy with how it came out!! And I'm excited to play with colour some more. Can't wait to see the rest of the Lionheart brothers! Enjoy your weekend :)))

Archie 🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺🕺 <3

#archillustrates #arch is learning #smileyshri #project development #art #art process #art resource #process #artists on tumblr #illustration #comic #picture book #small art blog #art blog #illustration blog #female artists on tumblr #queer artists on tumblr #illustrator #book illustrator #female illustrator #queer illustrator #comic artist #comic art #female artists on instagram #artists on instagram #procreate #digital artwork #digital artist #artist blog #artist on tumblr

[essekthelysssideblog]

(spiritual sequel to this ficlet)

It is only a week later that Caleb opens his door to an unfamiliar figure– unfamiliar, that is, until the elf speaks his name in a lingering, gentle way that only one person ever has.

“Hallo,” Caleb says, and moves aside to allow the elf entry. As soon as he steps over the threshold, Essek’s disguise is dispelled by Caleb’s own wards. The item he is holding, however, remains, and Caleb cannot help how long he ends up staring at the large bundle in Essek’s arms.

“I brought a housewarming gift,” Essek explains crisply. His stilted posture and tone remind Caleb a bit of that first awkward breakfast at Essek’s towers in Rosohna.

And no wonder. Caleb swallows, taking the bouquet of multicolored flowers Essek holds. “You brought me flowers,” he says dimly.

Essek flushes. “There is also wine,” he says hastily, and a bottle is pulled from his wristpocket. Again, Caleb is reminded of their early days, back in Rosohna. The most expensive wine he could find, most likely; he makes a note of the label and decides to ask Beau later.

“Ah…” Caleb’s thoughts are interrupted by Essek’s quiet chuckle, and he notices how Essek’s fingers tap nervously against the glass of the bottle. “Is it too much?”

Essek’s awkward half-smile speaks to his discomfort. “Nein, nein,” Caleb reassures, ushering him further into the cottage. “I made dinner for us. The wine will be perfect.” Essek’s shoulders relax slightly at that, and Caleb takes the chance to draw him into a hug. “It is good to see you, friend.”

Essek smiles more genuinely at that. “Your home is lovely,” he offers, glancing around the small living space that is Caleb’s main room.

“I know it is small,” Caleb replies, stepping into the kitchen to look for a vase for the flowers Essek has given him. He thinks he recognizes some of the blooms from the Grove, and wonders if Essek has been back there already. “I usually spend my time in the tower. Which is up, for the record, in case my cooking is truly horrendous.”

Essek raises an eyebrow in a way that Caleb probably should not find as charming as he does. “Is there great chance of that?”

“Yasha has been learning,” Caleb explains sheepishly. “I thought I would also give it a try.”

“Oh…” Essek follows him into the small kitchen, where the table has been set, a modest meal prepared, and a few candles are lit– an indulgence that Caleb is feeling much better about now, as he set Essek’s housewarming gift beside them. “You put a lot of work into this.”

Caleb smiles. “Well, I wished for your first impression of this place to be a pleasant one. And now we have wine and a centerpiece.” He pulls a chair out for Essek to sit. “Come, take a seat. I look forward to hearing about your exciting first week as a fugitive.”

Essek floats over to him, brushing his arm as he sits, a pleased gleam in his eye. Caleb’s fingers flutter as he takes his own seat across from him, unable to disguise his own pleasure. 

In many ways, the past few months have felt like stepping into a life that is not his own: he owns a home, and he is set to teach a guest lecture at the Academy in a month, and he is not on the road ready to fight for his life at any given moment.

Maybe it’s silly, making a big deal of this whole thing– dinner and wine and candlelight with a lovely friend– but then, he had never had a chance to do something like this the right way, before. The way an adult would do it. It is unfamiliar, but not in a way that overwhelms. And so he looks at Essek, who has taken a bite and is currently complimenting his culinary efforts, and sees a piece of the new life that Caleb is looking forward to building.

#critical role #shadowgast #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #part 2 of my unofficial series of caleb and essek start dating in their weird little way ficlets lol #fanfic

[fatale-distraction]

If requests are open literally all I want and need in life is more spice Barcus content. I need to see his ego stroked and his confidence blossom, he deserves so much pussy.

Here’s some completely unedited filthy filthy smut for you!

*I am writing Barcus as pansexual like the rest of the companions. He still very much likes cock but right now cunt is what’s on the menu.

*Lithe is also pan.

*I don’t care if I made him a little too good at eating snatch, the man is intuitive and creative, he can figure it out.

Progress toward Baldur’s Gate had been slow, but Lithe had adamantly refused to press ahead, insisting on staying with the caravan of tieflings to protect them, at least until Rivington. After two tendays of travel, they were finally within sight of the massive gates. With another day of good weather, they’d be in Rivington.

Barcus watched Lithe from the ground as she perched precariously atop the massive, crumbling stone building that sheltered their camp for the night. He’d spent the last five days trying to work up the courage to invite her to spend the night with him, and had shied away each time. With Rivington just over the horizon, tonight might just be his last opportunity for some time alone with her. They had already agreed to part ways there, if only temporarily. Lithe would continue on her quest, and Barcus would go after Wulbren one last time, not to grovel for scraps of attention, but to keep him from doing something terrible. His childhood friend’s obsession with runepowder and the redemption of the Ironhands could only bode ill.

“You can do this, old boy,” Barcus muttered to himself, swinging his arms and lifting himself up and down on his toes as though preparing for a show of acrobatics. “Just…go up there and—“

There was a whoosh of air and a thwump as Lithe plummeted to the ground in a flurry of Weave-feathers, landing mere steps away, a spell-scroll disintegrating in her hands.

“Nevermind.” Barcus perked up a bit. Without the daunting prospect of all those stairs to climb, maybe his courage wouldn’t fail him this time. The elven woman turned as he trotted up to her, a smile breaking across her face. “Should you be wasting those scrolls?”

“I have like ten of them,” she replied. “You’d be amazed what you find poking around in other people’s bookshelves.”

“I’m sure I would,” laughed Barcus, reaching for her hand and refusing to acknowledge how much it shook. “I…I wanted to talk to you about something, before I, well. Before I lose my nerve, to be honest.”

Lithe tilted her head at him, concern in her silvery eyes, and came down to one knee, drawing him closer as she did. She didn’t have to; most people didn’t bother. But Barcus appreciated being able to converse without craning his neck. “Is anything wrong?” she asked, brows upturned.

“N-no, not at all, I just—“ he stammered a bit, suddenly forgetting every word he’d rehearsed over the last month on the road. He shook his head and took a stabilizing breath. Slow. “I…had wondered.”

“…yes?”

“I had wondered if you…” He huffed, impatient with his own pussyfooting. “If you wanted to spend the evening with me tonight.” There. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was done.

Lithe blinked at him. “Barcus we’ve spent every evening together this last month. You didn’t have to ask.”

He could have shaken her. Barcus passed a hand down his face. “I meant…intimately.”

“Intima—ooooohhhh.” Realization dawned on her face, slowly curling into a devious smirk. “You naughty little man,” Lithe teased, draping her arms around his neck and touching her nose to his.

He couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that rattled in his throat. He’d been terrified of this moment, yet yearning for it for weeks. Although they’d had plenty of time for the heavier kind of petting and she’d gone down on him more than once since their first time, he hadn’t felt confident enough to venture any further, although guilt rankled him every night. He wanted at least to be able to return the courtesy she’d shown him at least two and a half times.

“Come to my tent later tonight,” murmured Lithe, kissing his cheek and moving slowly toward his ear. Barcus shivered. “After the others are asleep.”

Barcus ducked into Lithe’s tent and his jaw very nearly dropped to the floor. Lithe was waiting for him, her damp hair loose and falling to her waist in gently curling green waves. Her skin was flushed and dewy from a fresh scrubbing, silver eyes glinting mischievously in the flickering light of several glass lanterns she’d hung from the canopy of her tent. She wore nothing more than a short, loose shift, practically translucent and barely held together by a pair of skimpy lace scraps over her shoulders.

“Oh,” wheezed Barcus.

Lithe gave a good-natured laugh. “Too much?”

“Not in any sense of the term,” he choked out.

She held her arms out to him and giggled again as he hurriedly shrugged out of his coat and flung himself the rest of the way across the tent. She caught him and let herself fall backward, kissing him noisily as they hit the soft pile of blankets she’d spread across the ground.

Barcus lost no time kissing his way down her jaw and the long arch of her neck, palming her small breasts as he went. Lithe hummed and squirmed in approval while he buried his face against her chest. She smelled like lavender and birch, crisp and sweet. Her nipples were hard when he pinched them between his fingers, her breath caressing his cheek as she gasped and arched against him.

Lithe was more impatient than he was. Barcus barely had time to pull back to avoid being caught up in her shift as she yanked it up over her head and flung it across the tent. Taken aback, but eager to feel her skin against his, Barcus followed suit and tugged his own shirt off. Lithe’s lips crashed to his again, her hands smoothing down his chest and stomach, fingers hooking into the lacing of his breeches.

“W-wait…” the gnome stammered, pulling back with a soft wet smack as their lips parted. Lithe made a disappointed noise, but abandoned plucking at the leather cord. “I…I meant…”

Lithe ran the back of a finger down his cheek and he shuddered, lifting a hand to hers and closing his eyes. “Take your time, darling,” she murmured. Barcus tightened his fingers around hers and pressed a kiss to her palm.

“What I was trying to say,” he started again. “Was that it’s my turn this time.”

A soft smile drifted across her lips, and she lifted an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “But…well. I have to admit that I’m…nervous. I don’t have as much experience with women.”

Gentle lips pressed against his forehead. “It’s alright,” Lithe assured him. “Do what feels good, and I’ll tell you what doesn’t.” Another deep kiss silenced any further misgivings he might have had. His hands dropped from her waist to her thick thighs, parting them as he slid his palms over the soft, tender flesh. Lithe let out a small, shaky breath and leaned back against the blankets again, watching with shining eyes as he ran his fingers through sparse, wiry curls and bent his head. He parted her with both hands and dragged his tongue experimentally up through her folds. Lithe bit down on her lips as her hips lifted with the motion, already wet and aching for more. Barcus gave her a few more slow, long strokes, mapping each contour and mentally cataloguing anything that made her seize or tremble or moan. He lifted his head and repeated the soft strokes with his fingers as he repositioned himself between her legs. Lithe lowered a hand to guide him to the aching bud at her apex, giving him an encouraging squeeze of her thighs. Barcus gave a little moan and pressed his cheek to the soft flesh of her thigh before lowering his mouth to suck at her gently. A shiver ran through her and the blankets rustled as she keened and twisted her fists in the fabric.

“Like this,” she murmured breathlessly, moving her fingers over his to show him how to massage her between two fingers. He lapped at her clit and sucked her down to the root, pulling back until she nearly slipped out and then taking her back in. Her mouth hung open and she writhed, soft gasps ripping out of her chest. She panted his name, urging him on with a desperate, nonsensical plea. Barcus gave her clit another long lick that had her biting through a trembling moan.

“Fingers,” she gasped, hips straining. “Please…”

He hastened to obey, tucking his two middle fingers into her and curling them upwards at her urgent suggestion. She was slick and warm, glistening fluid dripping down the ample curve of her ass as he carefully began to pump his fingers in and out. The wet noise made by each thrust has his mouth watering for her again. Even though he could hardly catch his breath, he clamped his mouth over her again and fluttered his tongue against her throbbing clit as his palm slapped wetly against her. His arm was beginning to ache and his jaw felt stiff but the noises coming from the writhing woman beneath him were so delicious, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. She whimpered and whined and his cock pressed hard against the seam of his breeches. Her breath caught in her throat, her back bent, and her thighs clasped hard around him, her breaths coming fast and loud and she gave a shuddering sob. Hot, slick juice dribbled down Barcus’ chin and he fell back gulping air like a drowning man. The world was a watery blur for Lithe, dizzy with ecstasy. Her limbs tingled heavily as she made a valiant attempt to push herself up on her elbows. A tear streaked down one flushed cheek.

“Sweet merciful hells, Barcus,” she gasped as he let his head flop down against her stomach, still breathing hard. “Do you kiss your mother with that filthy mouth?”

“Please don’t mention my mother while I’m between your legs,” he wheezed.

“Sorry, just…” she swallowed thickly. “Hanali’s tits, I thought you said you didn’t have a lot of experience with women?”

“I am nothing if not determined,” he mumbled into the soft flesh of her belly.

Lithe huffed a little laugh, stroking the back of his head absently. “Well. That’s certainly one way to put it.”

#barcus wroot #bg3 barcus #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #Barcus x Tav #Tav x Barcus #Lithe Tav #bg3 fanfiction #I’m going to be writing a little more on how I visualize his prior experiences #but right now just smut #writing down fatalities