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olivemac · 3 years

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heartbeat | chapter two | b.b.

Summary | When Steve Rogers asks Kate Stark to find the Winter Soldier, she gets too involved.

Notes | Captain America: Civil War re-write, essentially. Starts just after the events of CA: Winter Soldier.

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x fem!oc, Bucky Barnes x Stark!oc

Genre | romance

Rating | explicit

Story Warnings | angst, fluff, romance tropes, so many romance tropes, coarse language, alcohol use, canon-typical violence , smut (m/f), oral sex (f&m receiving), 18+ ONLY

Chapter Warnings | coarse language

master list | AO3 link

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prev chapter

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Kate is on the next commercial flight to Bucharest. She's worried Bucky will move on before she can get to him, but she knows Tony would never approve of the use of one of his jets to chase down an ex-assassin in hiding. The less he knows, the better. Which is why she told him she was escaping to Europe for a long respite after feeling oh so overwhelmed with her work at Stark Industries.

Tony barely bats an eye when she told him. There were some advantages to being Tony Starks' baby sister. The first being he feels guilty about his ineptness at raising her after their parents' death and would literally let her get away with murder. The second is an almost unlimited bank account left to her by her father and supplemented by Tony's previously mentioned guilt.

Kate Stark was her mother’s mid-life crisis. Maria, three decades younger than her husband, had – at forty-two years old – decided she wanted another baby. Tony, who was eighteen at the time, had balked at the idea. But Howard relented and called in the best team of fertility doctors money could buy, and Kate was born.

She doesn't remember her parents, not really. She was only three when they died, and she doesn't remember that event either. Though she was there, in the car, when it crashed on Long Island.

Tony's only ever spoken to her about it once, after she accused him of hating her for surviving when their parents died. Really, he hated that he survived.

When rescue workers arrived at the scene of the wreck, they found her parents dead in the front seat and her tucked safely into her car seat in the back, bundled up against the December cold. She was an orphan, and Tony, at twenty-one, was suddenly responsible for a toddler.

So, he did the only thing he could think of. He hired a series of nannies to raise her, then sent her off to boarding school as soon as she was old enough, all the while playing genius, billionaire playboy.

He wasn’t surprised when it turned out she was just as smart as him or their father. And it surprised him less when she followed in his footsteps and attended MIT. What did surprise him was when she started hacking government databases for fun. She only agreed to work for him at Stark Industries in exchange for him not sticking Rhodey on her after she released documents regarding the US Air Force‘s involvement in some less that savory overseas dealings.

On the plane, she starts an email to Steve telling him where she was headed and what she had found. Then she deletes it and starts over. Then deletes that. She chews her thumbnail and thinks. If she tells Steve where Bucky is, he'll come blazing in, shield at the ready, and Bucky will.... She doesn’t know what Bucky will do, but she has a feeling the encounter would end with a fight and Bucky running. Which will kill Steve. Again. So, she decides she doesn't need to tell Steve – not right away. She'll see if she can figure out what Bucky remembers – if anything – before telling Steve where he is.

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A little over forty-eight hours after her software found Bucky, Kate is assembling IKEA furniture in her new studio apartment in Romania. Getting the landlord to lease her the empty flat next to Bucky's was easy enough when Kate offered him double what he was asking in rent. He was discreet enough to not ask any questions. Most of the people in the building were hiding from something so a young American woman who paid cash upfront wasn't the most unusual thing he'd dealt with.

She makes her bed, unpacks her suitcase, and re-reads the Winter Soldier file. That night she dreams of her parents and the wreck that killed them. In the dream there's always a man outside of the car, but she can never see his face. Her father begs for help: "Help my wife, my daughter. Please. Help."

She wakes up sweating, a scream caught in her throat.

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The apartment next to his is no longer empty. Bucky can hear music and soft footsteps through the paper-thin walls. If he focuses his hearing, he can hear a heartbeat other than his own, but he's working to turn off the super soldier reflexes, so he tries to ignore it. He's enjoyed the silence that the empty apartment afforded him, and he hopes the new tenant isn’t as nosy as his neighbor in Kiev who had asked so many questions. He hadn't stayed long after that meeting.

Around two in the morning, he wakes to the sound of a strangled cry from his new neighbor. Bucky sits up straight, suddenly on alert. He listens closely, focusing for the sounds of a struggle, but he only hears the unfamiliar heartbeat. His neighbor was having a nightmare, he imagines. He had plenty of those himself.

Sometimes he was staring down the barrel of a gun, his only intent to kill. Other nightmares took him back to the HYDRA base and their machine that scrambled his thoughts over and over again. And others found him falling from a train, the blonde man from the Triskelion reaching out toward him. He always wakes up just before he hits the icy river he knows awaits him.

Bucky knows now that the blonde man is Steve Rogers. Without HYDRA's influence, he's started to remember more: flashes of Steve and a group called the Howling Commandos during the war, but also flashes of Steve before the war, smaller, shorter. And flashes of a family – his family – a father, a mother, a sister. Rebecca. The name comes to him one afternoon while he's browsing the used bookstore near his flat.

He's started eating plums and jogging to improve his memory. He isn't sure if it's helping, but the memories are becoming longer and more frequent. He sees himself with Steve at Coney Island, riding the Cyclone until Steve lost his lunch and Bucky laughed so hard tears were streaming down his face, and he sees himself flirting with an auburn-haired combat nurse in Italy, following her back to her tent and undressing her slowly.

He wakes the next morning feeling restless. He had slept in fits and starts, listening for any more disturbances from next door. None came.

He dresses and goes for a run, and when he returns, he catches his first glimpse of his new neighbor. She's coming out of her apartment, her face turned downward toward her phone. When he reaches the top of the stairs, she lifts her head and smiles. Bucky is struck by how pretty she is, a thought he hasn't let himself have since leaving HYDRA. He turns away quickly and slams the door to his own apartment. He doesn't need pink lips and dark curls reminding him of what he can never have again. He's too broken for her, or anyone else for that matter.

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Bucky has seen his new neighbor more times in five days than he's seen anyone else in the building over the past two months. They always seem to be coming or going at the same time.

The first time he actually speaks to her, she's dropping groceries up the stairs from a rip in her canvas bag.

"Fuck," she mutters as an apple rolls beneath the railing and falls to the landing below.

Bucky has a brief vision of her uttering that same word while his head is buried between her legs, but he shakes if off quickly.

"Let me," he says in English, scooping up some rogue potatoes and taking the bag from her.

"Thanks," she says before unlocking her door and holding it open for him.

Her apartment is the same layout as his – one room, with a tiny bathroom at the front and a small kitchen along the back wall. He sets the bag of groceries on the kitchen counter and steps back.

"I should—"

"Thank you—"

They both speak at the same time. Bucky bows his head and motions for her to continue.

"Thank you for your help." She pauses. "And it's nice to speak English for a change. My Romanian is atrocious," she laughs. "How’d you guess?"

"All the music you listen to is in English," he replies brusquely.

She cringes. "Sorry. I'll turn it down."

"No," he says, "It's fine. Really."

There's an awkward pause as they both stare at each other.

Bucky breaks the silence first. "I should go."

"Right." She leads him to the door. "Thanks."

Bucky nods.

When his own apartment door closes behind him, he sighs and scrubs his right hand over his face. He needs to avoid her. He doesn't need anything to distract him from regaining his memories, and he certainly doesn't need to get close to someone he'll inevitably hurt. He doesn’t even begin let himself entertain the thought that she could be a HYDRA agent waiting to turn him in.

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Later that evening, he's startled by a knock at his door. When he peers into the hallway, there's a plate of food on the floor, covered with a cloth and a note. He picks it up.

Thanks for saving my groceries.

- Kate

Bucky considers the possibilities that she is a HYDRA agent and the food is poisoned, but he decides it's unlikely HYDRA would take that approach. If anything, they would want their soldier back, and if they didn't, they wouldn't kill him quickly. Also, he can't remember the last time he had a home-cooked meal – definitely before the war – and he’s starving. Protein bars aren’t really cutting it anymore.

He studies the note as he eats. He runs his fingers over the name written in curling handwriting: Kate, and debates what his next move should be. He needs to ignore her – for her own safety – but his mother raised a gentleman so he should at least thank her for dinner, right?

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Kate nearly steps on the plate when she leaves her flat the next morning for a run. It’s sitting right at her doorway, clean, the dish towel she had with it folded with a note peeking out.

Kate,

You’re welcome. Thank you for dinner.

- Bucky

If she knew how long Bucky had agonized over whether to write back, she probably would have cried. Kate definitely would have cried if she knew he had debated whether or not to sign the note “Bucky” or “James.” He’s been using James at any off-the-books odd jobs he can get, but with his memories returning, he’s been feeling more like the Bucky Steve referred to in DC.

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Kate makes a potato soup that night and leaves it outside his door sans note. She brings him dinner for a week straight before she asks him to dine with her.

"Come over,” she says the next time they pass in the hall.

"What?" Bucky freezes.

"Come over tonight,” Kate repeats, “for dinner.”

"Why?" He sounds rude. He should really work on that, but she’s caught him in one of his broodier moods after another sleepless night.

"Why not?” she shrugs. “I have wine."

He’s staring at her. He realizes he needs to stop staring at her and answer.

“Okay.”

“Seven thirty?” she suggests.

"Okay," he replies.

"Okay," she laughs.

For a second, Bucky wonders if she's laughing at him, but there's a softness in her eyes that makes him think not. Talking to women used to be easy, he thinks. It took him hours to come up with the simplest response to her note the other night, and now he can't even form a sentence in front of her. He spends the rest of the day worrying he's made a huge mistake in accepting her invitation.

He's not the only one. Kate has half a mind to call it all off, phone Steve, and get on the next plane back to New York. What if he doesn't remember anything? What if he's still the Winter Soldier? She has a brief vision of Bucky snapping and wrapping that metal hand he's been hiding around her throat – and not in a fun way. But when he knocks on her door at seven thirty, she thinks she might actually die from how sweet he looks.

"Hi," she says.

"Hi," he responds, running his tongue over his lips nervously.

They're caught in another awkward moment of just staring at each other when she finally invites him.

The old Bucky would have bought flowers and then made some quip about how the flowers aren't nearly as beautiful as she is, but this Bucky – post-HYDRA Bucky – feels like he's forgotten how to interact with women at all and his tongue has suddenly turned to lead.

Kate's debated how much to reveal about herself. Finally, she decides she'll tell him everything. Well, mostly everything. He doesn't need to know that she's a Stark or friends with Steve Rogers or here on some crazy rescue mission to save the Winter Soldier because maybe, just maybe, she read his file one too many times and got caught up in the look in Steve's eyes when he talked about Bucky. No, he doesn't need to know that.

Kate's also considered how much to ask him about himself. She wants to know what – if anything – he remembers, but she also doesn't want to give herself away by revealing she knows who he really is. And she doubts he’ll tell her outright. The fact that he signed the note Bucky seems like a good indication that his memories are returning, though.

"How long have you been in Bucharest, Bucky?" she asks, plating their dinner.

"Almost two months," he says.

"Here for work?" she asks casually.

"Uh...it's complicated," he says, scratching at the back of his neck. "You?"

She looks up at him. "It's complicated."

They're staring at each other again, and Bucky has to force himself to look away.

"Family?" she asks.

"Also complicated," he says. God, he thinks, he sounds like a jackass. But it's not like he can tell her he's a ninety-eight-year-old ex-assassin in hiding so his family is probably long dead.

She motions for him to sit at her small kitchen table and sets a plate in front of him.

"You're not hiding a wedding ring under those gloves, are you?" she asks, a smirk on her lips. She knows about his arm; she just wants to see what he’ll give away.

He blushes and looks at his hands. Then he realizes he's taking too long to answer, and she probably thinks he's an idiot. "No... uh...no. No," he finally says without elaborating.

Kate can sense he's nervous so she does what Tony would do in a situation like this and just keeps talking. She tells him about Tony – minus the Stark detail. She talks about MIT and New York and the last book she read. He listens closely, laughing softly when she makes jokes and asking questions where appropriate. He likes the way her lips look when they form his name and the way her eyes light up at her own humor.

When they finish eating, Bucky helps her wash dishes. She considers asking him to stay, watch a movie or something, but then she thinks maybe she should take this slowly, not overwhelm him, so she bids him goodnight and closes the door behind him.

Bucky thinks Kate might be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. Then he thinks that might be because she’s the first woman he’s interacted with in so long. Either way, he tries not to think of her that night when his body remembers what it's like to be a man.

He decides that staying away from her would be too hard.

On the other side of the wall, she’s thinking of him, too. She hadn't expected his eyes to be so impossibly blue. She had stared at the black and white military photo for hours, but seeing him in person, she was caught in the Arctic waters that made up his eyes.

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#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #sergeant barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky x ofc #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes romance

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readyplayerhobi · 4 years

Text

Flower | 35

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff

; Word Count: 3.7k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Just a soft, fluffy chapter for you all after the angst and smut of the last two haha. Please leave comments and reblog it for me so others can read! Send me asks and so forth, we’re getting close to the endgame here so...I really hope you can spur me on.

; Flower Masterpost

“Ahhhh, I’m so excited!” Hoseok is practically vibrating in the passenger seat as you drive carefully, eyes firmly on the road and watching the car ahead of you. There’s nothing ahead of them but they’re still doing about ten miles less than the speed limit, frustrating you.

You don’t complain though, instead just sigh deeply while rolling your eyes at the slow person. It was hard to truly feel too annoyed though because Hoseok’s enthusiasm was so infectious. Which was why you’d been sporting a smile for most of the morning, thoroughly bemused by his excitement.

The reason for his bubbly demeanour today was because you were officially going to pick up your new puppy. You’d known for a long time that Hoseok wanted a dog; he’d loved them a lot and had always wanted one. But he just hadn’t had the time or space to get one, particularly given his old apartment not being pet friendly.

It had taken some convincing for you to say yes to a dog, mainly because you’d worried how Kasumi might be around another pet and also because you weren’t a huge dog fan. You liked them obviously, but they required so much more work than a cat. As much as Hoseok loved Kasumi though, you knew what he wanted.

The convincing had mainly been that he wouldn’t leave all the taking care of the dog to you. You didn’t want to end up being the only one cleaning up the mess in the yard or walking them, etc. He’d promised that he would care for the dog just as much as you did, maybe even a little more.

It wasn’t like he didn’t help out in the house anyway, he did because you wouldn’t let him not help, but you just didn’t want to get stuck doing all the dog duties when he was the one who wanted it the most. You doubted he would do that as he was pretty good with looking after Kasumi, even though she wasn’t even his. Given this was something he wanted, you had faith that he’d be a good doggy daddy.

The two of you had poured over websites that advertise puppies for sale alongside looking over rescue centres to try and find the best dog for you both. It had been hard to narrow down your requirements as there were some breeds that you just didn’t want to have and Hoseok had his own opinion on some as well. Other important things were that they needed to be okay with cats and being left alone during the day while you were both working.

But you also wanted something energetic when necessary and enjoyed walks. Part of the reason that you’d said yes was that you hoped it would get both of you to start going out on walks to just enjoy nature a little more instead of staying cooped up in the house. You always enjoyed when you’d gone out but it was hard to break your habits.

Your problems had been resolved happily when you’d been told by Hoseok’s parents that his aunt had a dog who had had a litter of puppies recently. They’d bought a female puppy and before they’d been able to get her spayed, she’d, unfortunately, got the attention of the neighbour’s dog. Which meant she’d been way too young to breed and they’d ended up with surprise puppies.

The mom was a working Cocker Spaniel breed with the prettiest colouring; a soft lemon tan and white with the most adorable eyes. The dad was a Bichon, a breed you weren’t too familiar with but who looked pretty cute too. What resulted was called a Cock-a-Chon, the most adorable bundle of fluff you’d ever seen.

Each puppy had the cutest curly fur and was the perfect mix of both their parent’s beautiful faces. They wouldn’t be too large when grown which was good for you both, as neither of you wanted a really big dog or anything. The puppy you’d both chosen was a creamy golden colour and you’d both fallen in love with her as soon as she’d fallen over her feet when running over to you.

Well...you say that you’d chosen her. It was more like she’d chosen Hoseok because he’d immediately ended up with a tiny puppy crawling all over his legs while her tail wagged at such speed you were worried she might hurt it. Needless to say, Hoseok had been completely lost to those sweet black eyes.

It had taken one look at you with equally big and cute eyes that had been earnestly begging to get your agreement. And that had been it. You’d officially known you were going to be collecting her a few weeks after that point and you’d let Hoseok name her, choosing Ciri from the Witcher series.

The time spent in-between that visit and going to bring her home had been spent making sure that the house was puppy-proof. You hadn’t known how to do that but the two of you had done a lot of research, hoping that if she was kept entertained enough then you wouldn’t have to worry about chewing or anything.

Given that Hoseok had been the one to want a dog in the first place, you’d let him run wild with all the stuff he wanted to get for her. There wasn’t any room for argument considering the number of things you’d bought Kasumi over the years and it had been heart-warming to watch Hoseok get so excited over a patterned collar and a personalised name tag on it.

So she had a ridiculous amount of dog toys already, alongside what you were convinced was a mountain of puppy food and treats, those mats to help house train her, two dog beds, a collar, a cage and lots of blankets to go inside it to train her for when neither of you was home. You hadn’t particularly liked the idea of caging her but you’d resolved to make it her safe space where she could go when she was feeling tired or just didn’t want to be bothered instead of punishment or anything.

Honestly, you’d warned Hoseok many times to make sure he didn’t go too overboard and spoil a dog neither of you even had yet.

Quite clearly, it hadn’t worked given how much he’d bought the little puppy. But again, you were loath to put a leash on his enthusiasm for it all. Pun not intended.

He never asked for a whole lot from you, even now with your three-year-anniversary approaching in just a few months. It always felt like you were taking a lot from him and not giving much back, so if he wanted to go wild and buy a lot of stuff for the new puppy then you weren’t going to complain too much.

There was a lot worse to spend his money on. Not to mention the fact that you weren’t even paying for Ciri. His aunt didn’t want to be paid for the puppy given she was going to a family member and she hadn’t even been expecting them at all. From what you knew, the other puppies had been sold for only a hundred dollars each. Just to cover their medical expenses up to that point.

It was a fantastic deal really, but you were mostly just pleased that Hoseok was finally going to get the dog he’d always wanted. He spoiled you often enough so you were revelling in the fact that you got to spoil him in turn.

That thought made you snort with laughter, the very idea of you two fighting not because you were angry but because you were trying to one-up each other with affection and love. You don’t get to see the curious look Hoseok gives you, slight confusion on his face before he shrugs to himself.

“I hope Kasumi will be okay with this.” Whispering the words, you frown slightly as you watch the road ahead. There’s only maybe another five minutes before you’ll both be there, reading to pick up Ciri and take her home but you’re a little worried about your other pet.

Ciri would probably be fine with her, being so young that she’d grow up with the cat as her big sister. But Kasumi had spent a long time with it being just her getting all the attention from you, and Hoseok when he’d entered her life. Not to mention the fact that she could hurt Ciri if they didn’t get on, those sharp claws easily causing harm to the tiny puppy.

“We’ll take it slow. The good thing about cats is that they can take themselves away if they’re not happy. She’s used to Ciri’s scent and we’ve got plenty of treats and toys for her too so she doesn’t feel so left out. We just have to make sure that we don’t let Ciri overwhelm her. She’ll be okay Meeps.” Hoseok reaches out and takes your hand, rubbing at your knuckles in reassurance.

His aunt had sent over some blankets and toys that she’d rubbed all over Ciri, soaking them in the puppy’s scent so that you could introduce it to Kasumi. Hopefully, it would mean that while your beloved cat probably wouldn’t appreciate the exuberance of her new sister but she would at least recognise the smell.

“Is it silly that I’m worrying about stuff like that? I mean...your friends are getting married and having babies but I’m here just concerned that my cat might not like our puppy.” That makes Hoseok snort in amusement, slipping his hand beneath yours to link your fingers together before squeezing.

“Hey...that’s their choice. We’ve chosen to have furbabies instead, nothing wrong with that.” Wrinkling your nose, you indicate to turn right and drive slowly down the street his aunt lives on. It’s a nice area with large houses set back from the road, each one having an equally big drive leading to two-car garages. Tall trees, probably decades old at this point, line along the street with luscious green grass between each one and the dips allowing cars to park.

Much like the rest of Hoseok’s family, his aunt is pretty wealthy. She never had any kids though, living in her beautiful house with her wife and a menagerie of animals. Alongside the cocker spaniel that had gotten pregnant; she also had a chocolate labrador, a black cocker spaniel, a parakeet and three cats. It was your idea of a dream in terms of all the animals but the clean up must be terrible.

Pulling into her driveway, you take in the sight of her house once more in awe. You doubt anyone in your family could ever afford something like this and it still leaves you with a sense of imposter syndrome when you realise just how rich Hoseok’s whole family is.

Thankfully though, he’d never made it an issue.

“Oh my god! Come on! Let’s go.” Hoseok practically squeals, his excitement making him look so young and completely at odds with his metalhead appearance. Snorting, you can’t help but smirk as you turn off the engine as he’s already out of the car. Sighing affectionately, you follow him at a much slower pace.

He’s already vanished into the house by the time you get to the door, his aunt, Miyeon, standing with the door held open and an exasperated look on her face. Smiling at her, you take your shoes off and hand her the bag that you’d prepared earlier with an apologetic look on your face.

“Hi, Auntie! How are you? Oh, I’m good thanks Hoseok, and you?” She says sarcastically, rolling her eyes at you. There’s more than a little fondness in her face and voice though so you’re not too worried that she’s genuinely annoyed at him, smiling a little brighter as you greet her.

“Sorry. He’s excited. It’s been like having a toddler in the car rather than an almost 31-year-old man. Thank you so much though, I know you didn’t want anything for her but I couldn’t just..give you nothing. Hoseok said that you collect wine and I don’t know anything about wine because I don’t drink but-” She interrupts you with a hand on your arm, a smile on her face.

“You didn’t have to. But thank you, I appreciate it. Don’t worry, wine is wine. I’ll enjoy drinking it no matter what, I guarantee you that. Anyway, come on. I’ve baked some cookies for you both. Hobi always used to adore eating them when he was younger; peanut butter, hazelnut and chocolate chips.” Leading you through her home, you can already hear the barking of puppies alongside Hoseok’s joyful laughter.

You don’t even realise you’re smiling until you see yourself in a mirror, your expression light and happy. Who’d have thought that just the sound of someone’s laugh could be such a fulfilling experience?

“Ahhh, so that’s why he likes them. He always asks me to bake those if I’m in that kind of mood. Always thought it was a bit odd as he doesn’t eat anything else with peanut butter, just those. Seemed a strange combination for him to love.” Her kitchen is just as big as the rest of the house, tastefully decorated with all the latest appliances.

You were a little envious of her fridge. It was one of those super fancy Samsung ones where you could see inside without even opening the door thanks to a panel on the front alongside what you could only describe as a tablet embedded into the door. Who needed to watch Netflix on their fridge?

But all you can truly focus on is the delicious scent of freshly baked cookies. Inhaling deeply, you hum and can’t help but wiggle in delight. His aunt laughs, handing one to you and you eat it quickly. They’re not your favourite flavour but you’d never turn down a homemade cookie.

Especially when it was still warm and slightly gooey.

“Go on, go take one to Hoseok. If he’s not gone into a puppy coma or something. Bora is working late tonight so she won’t be home,” She mentions her wife, letting you know that you won’t be seeing her today. “And I’ve got some paperwork to catch up on. Just let me know when you’re ready to go.”

“Are you sure? Do you need any help?” Shaking her head, Miyeon smiles softly at you before suddenly cupping your cheek. Her hands are soft, likely through years of a careful skincare regime, and warm but there’s nothing strange about it. More like she’s just observing you.

“He’s lucked out with you, does he know that?” Snorting, you grin as you move away towards the sound of happy chaos. Looking back at her, you hold the cookie up with pride.

“I try to make sure he realises that at least once a day. Keep him on his toes, you know?” Her laughter follows you out of the kitchen and you marvel at yourself for how bold you’d just been. Your past self would be shocked to see you now, probably confused as to how you feel confident enough to say something so bold.

“Hey, butthead. You didn’t say hello to your aunt. That was rude,” You say to Hoseok, your tone only slightly playful. “Go say hi. Look, she even made you cookies.”

Handing one to him, you note how he’s laid on the floor and is surrounded by all the puppies in the litter. Ciri was going to be the first one to go so her four brothers and sisters were all still here. Small tails were wagging furiously at your arrival and you couldn’t help but giggle as they ran over to you, jumping and standing on Hoseok’s exposed stomach from where his shirt had twisted up and causing him to groan.

“Hello, puppies! Oh, aren’t you so cute!” Cooing to them, you hand the cookie to Hoseok as he sits up with a slight wince. For a minute or so, he just eats and watches you with the little ones as you play with them all, unable to stop smiling as they practically throw their small, furry bodies against you in an attempt for your attention.

“Go say hi!” Hissing slightly, your eyes narrow at Hoseok until he holds his hands up and gets up, heading out of the room to go properly greet his aunt. Once he’s gone, you look at all the puppies with a gleeful expression and sit cross-legged.

“Good, he’s gone. Let’s play!” The last word is loud and sharp while you reach forward, tickling one of them until they fall onto their back, showing their tummy for scratches and yelping enthusiastically. His siblings are barking too, tails hitting you almost painfully from how hard they’re going.

Glancing over at their mom, who’s currently laid in her dog bed with tired eyes, you smile affectionately before crawling over to her and giving her a loving stroke too. She seems to almost let out a deep sigh and you can’t help but laugh, running your fingers through her soft fur.

“Is it tiring, mama? All these babies wanting your attention all the time. I bet you can’t wait for some alone time. You’ve done well though, look how cute they are!” It must be a law somewhere that everyone should take to animals as if they’re human, especially in that voice that’s reserved for cute things.

But her big eyes are full of warmth and her tail wags lazily against the bed at your words, causing a few pups to try and attack it. You can’t help but marvel at how she just doesn’t seem to notice them, letting them do what they want.

“Not long now, they’ll all be going to their new homes soon. I bet you’ll miss them. We’ll bring Ciri by sometimes so you can see her!” The other dogs in the house had been socialised with the puppies for the last few weeks and Choco, the labrador was currently laid out against the couch. He was watching you carefully but for the most part, didn’t seem to be too bothered by all the noise.

You presumed that Bella, the other spaniel, was with Miyeon in her office.

“Okay, I said hello. And apologised,” Hoseok said, sitting down next to you and immediately welcoming two puppies onto his lap. “Sorry, I was rude, you’re right. They’re even cuter than last time.”

Grabbing one of the toys they had, he played with one of them enthusiastically until the puppy seemed to exhaust itself. There was a brief moment where it tried hard to keep up but then the next thing you knew, it was fast asleep on the floor. Laughing, you pointed at it before grinning at Hoseok.

“Oh my god, it’s you when you’re drunk.”

That gets a playful scowl but he just shrugs, reaching over to rub Choco’s ears to make sure he didn’t feel left out by it all. The labrador’s long tail beats against the floor tiredly, almost like he can’t be bothered to do it and you smirk at the sight. No doubt all the animals in the house are feeling a little tired and overwhelmed with all the excitement that’s been happening.

Finally, though, the puppies all seem to lose their energy and start to fall asleep wherever they are. Soon enough, you’re surrounded by bundles of fluff that are all twitching in their sleep, the silence pleasant after all their noise.

Hoseok carefully, and slowly, lifts Ciri into his lap. Her colouring was more cream than the rest of them, the others skewing more towards an almost golden tan. It had been part of the reason he’d named her Ciri. Her character in the show, video game and book series was infamous for her ash-blonde hair.

She doesn’t wake up, even as he takes off the coloured collar that had indicated whose puppy she was and replaces it with the one you’d both bought. The tag clunks loudly against the metal ring, causing you both to pause in fear that you’ve woken the others up but none of them stirs.

Finally, he shuffles back until he’s resting against the couch next to you, Ciri sleeping soundly in his arms and looks at you with a bright grin. The sheer amount of affection and happiness in that expression makes your heart physically ache, causing you to press a hand to it without realising.

“Ahh, we have a dog!” He whispers, eyes dancing as he tilts until he’s leaning heavily against you. His head rests on your shoulder and you smile, kissing his hair and just inhaling deeply. The smell of him always makes you feel content and relaxed, but even more so right now after all the chaos of the puppies for the last fifteen minutes.

“We do. Happy?” Nodding, he looks up at you before carefully reaching and cupping your cheek. His hands are rougher than his aunts, but you lean into the touch happily. There’s a brief pause before he kisses you, the movement soft and gentle with no real pressure. It’s more of an ‘I’m-happy’ kiss than anything else and you reciprocate it with ease.

The two of you stay in comfortable silence after that, just stroking and admiring Ciri for a while with no inclination to move just yet. You didn’t want to take her from her family so soon, even if you were her new family now. She should get to play with them all one last time before she goes.

“God, if you told college Hoseok that in a decade he’d been in a long-term relationship with a job, a house, a car, a dog and a cat...well let’s just say that laughing would have been the politest thing he could have done.”

“You know, I was thinking something like that earlier. I don’t think my old me would even recognise me now. But I think that’s for the better. I like who I am now, where I am now.” Stroking Ciri’s velvet-soft ears, you don’t see the fond smile on Hoseok’s face.

“I love you.” Smiling shyly, you take the chance to lean against him now and rest your head. Gently, you poke at his arm in your silent language, letting him know that you reciprocate before sighing contentedly.

For once, you finally felt completely at ease.

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hpfluff-fest · 4 years

Text

HP Fluff Fest Masterlist

We would like to thank everybody who has made this fest such a success, whether as a prompter, creator, or reader! Both of us hope the featured fics and art have brought you happiness and warm fuzzy feelings. Now, without further ado, may we proudly present the HP Fluff Fest 2020 Masterlist.

Albus Severus Potter/Scorpius Malfoy

ART

🌻god, you're beautiful by lov-lyness || @lov-lyness, Traditional Art (G)

Scorpius and Albus are by a lake, Scorpius's soulmark is showing.

FIC

🌻Sticky Love by motherofmercury || @motherofmercury, 1.3k, (G)

Scorpius always leaves encouraging notes and reminders around their flat for Albus to find. Albus realises he's a messy person to live with. Cleaning and the discovery of Albus' romantic side ensues.

Bartemius Crouch Jr./Harry Potter FIC

🌻Coming Home Late by Firebull || @swampwitchkaterina, 525 words (G)

It had become a bit of a routine to them.

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter

ART

🌻K is for Kiss by Pinkelephant42 || @pinkelephant42, Digital Art (G)

Harry escapes the spotlight to teach young magical kids. Draco is charmed by his son's new teacher.

🌻Moving in together - shopping for laughs. by digthewriter || @digtheshipper, Digital Art (G)

Trying out mattresses w/ your partner leads to giggles in the furniture showroom.

🌻The Case for Borrowed Underwear and Morning-After Pancakes by toutcequonveut || @cequonveut, Digital Art (Comic) (T)

Harry and Draco have just Done the Deed™️ for the first time. After a truly fantastic night, Harry wakes up alone in bed and wonders where Draco has wandered off to..

FIC

🌻Age is just a number by gnarf || @gnarf, 1.5k (T)

Married for decades, their life is perfect. Until Harry gets a call and hears the following words: "Mr Potter, we caught your husband stealing ten large packs of King Sized condoms."

🌻And They Say Romance is Dead by static_abyss || @static-abyss, 9.7k (E)

Harry is in love with Draco Malfoy. This is, quite possible, the worst thing that could have ever happened to him. Not because he doesn't want to love Draco but because now that Harry knows, he doesn't know how he's supposed to tell him.

Or, five times Harry tried to tell Draco he loved him and one time he succeeded.

🌻Chasing Coffee by Yesimawriter || @foularcadebanana, 5.6k (T)

Harry's service dog, Coffee, is obsessed with a certain Slytherin prat, and Harry cannot figure out why. It can't be because Harry wants to spend more time with him, right?

🌻darling, your kisses are sweeter than honey by unicorninthelibrary || @unicorn-in-the-library, 1k (T)

No matter how many years have passed, waking up next to Draco is Harry’s favorite thing in life.

🌻Dear (For Want of a Better Idea) Diary by tigersilver || @stripedsilverfeline, 12.3k (M)

Draco likes his life; there’s not much not to like. He’s got himself a family of rescued kneazles and nosy Weasleys plus two fun jobs to keep him busy, which is more than he ever expected, post-Voldemort. But he’ll have a bash at keeping a journal, just as his boss George suggested. Who knows? It might even help him sort out what’s up with Potter, right?

🌻Disastrously Perfect by savant (teii) || @teii, 8.3k (T)

Neville figured that whatever was going on between Harry and Draco, he could quietly keep out of the way and observe from a safe distance. Luna, however, has other plans.

🌻 Duck And Cover by Drarrymadhatter || @drarrymadhatterstuff, k (T)

Draco is struggling with eighth year, until he’s forced to adopt a flock of ducklings. Harry, convinced his old nemesis is up to his old tricks, decided to find out what he’s up to. When he discovers his fluffy secret, he decides to have some fun with it. However, along the way, he starts to realise how much Malfoy has changed.

🌻Ferret Support Services by CoCo (cportera) || @cportera, 4k (G)

Harry discovers a ferret while hiding away from his friends. He adopts the furry animal telling him secrets, never knowing the ferret might have secrets of his own.

🌻If This is Happiness, I Don't Mind Having This by Orpheous87, 6.2k (G)

Eighth Year isn't going too well for Draco. He's isolated and ignored by his classmates. Then he stumbles across a flock of tiny ducklings that need a helping hand. What Draco doesn't expect is someone to offer him a helping hand.

🌻I Knew I Loved You Before I Met You by Ladderofyears || @clemandben, 20.7k (E)

All Draco ever wanted was to carry his beloved husband's baby. It had been a journey of years, of tearful nights and smiling while he was breaking inside. It was finally happening though. They've tried for so long. They're having a child.

🌻Just Like Potions by vivi1138 || @penguinanimagus, 2.3k (E)

Kreacher is on holidays. Draco thinks he can cook because he's so good at Potions. Hint: he can't.

🌻Let Your Heart Hold Fast by MoonlitMarauder || @moonlitmaruader, 7.1k (E)

After three years together you'd think Harry would have learned to let Draco keep his secrets, but Draco is up to something. He just knows it. Or That time when Ron had to give Harry advice on his love life.

🌻Love In Ikea by kai_blxck || @im-kaifused, 30.6k (T)

In all the trips Harry had made to Ikea, Harry never expected to bump into the love of his life?

Draco never thought Wizards could exist but here he is, falling in love with one.

🌻Misunderstandings are as easy as A-B-C by VeelaWings || @veelawings, 3.4k (T)

A slow blink and Potter seemed to catch himself, clearing his throat and nodding, his smile friendly and bright when directed at Scorpius and Draco. “Hey Mal—”

“Mr Potter,” Draco spoke up rudely, but necessary. “This is my son, Scorpius Black. He’ll be one of your students this year.”

Potter looked completely wrongfooted for a few seconds before his mind appeared to latch onto the most likely conclusion. His expression cleared up as Scorpius took a step forward and offered a tiny hand.

“Hello, Mr Potter. It’s nice to meet you,” Scorpius said, enunciation steady and practiced.

🌻Seeking: pet carer for Bartholomew (four-year old rescue greyhound, no special needs) by GallifreyisBurning || @gallifrey1sburning, 14.7k (E)

When Draco’s boyfriend ends their relationship rather abruptly (and, frankly, extremely rudely), he leaves Draco with full-time responsibility for their rescue greyhound, Bartholomew. Draco loves his dog with all his heart, but the long hours he works at his law firm mean that he can’t possibly be home as much as Bartholomew needs. Enter Sirius Pet Care, an app designed to solve this very problem! When Draco books Harry, he’s relieved at how quickly the man and his dog bond. He’s less relieved by how unexpectedly, distractingly attractive Harry turns out to be… and how Draco’s afternoon meetings keep being “mysteriously” cancelled, meaning that he JUST HAPPENS to be home when Harry comes by. After all, it’s not appropriate to ogle one’s employees… right?

🌻sign me up for that full-time by M0stlyVoid || @bonesliketambourines, 4k (T)

Harry should have learned by now to never trust anything the Weasley twins try to pass off as a thoughtful holiday gift, no matter how innocuous it might appear.

🌻Soft & Hard by DragonGirl87 || @drgngrl87, 8k (T)

In which Draco is forced to grudgingly admit that Harry does have some taste and Harry learns more about mattresses than any sane person should ever know.

🌻Some Assembly Required by peachpety || @peachpety, 6.5k (E)

A relationship must occasionally endure a test of strength, be it confronting an ex, or meeting the inlaws. Sometimes, however, an inanimate object can make or break a couple. Harry and Draco's relationship is put to the test when they attempt to assemble a piece of IKEA furniture.

🌻They were Once Young by acupforslytherin || @acupforslytherin, 6.4k (T)

Draco nervously expected for the worst when Harry invited him to Godric’s Hollow for the summer holidays. Little did he know, he was in for a delightful French dinner, two generations of embarrassing Potters, and a fascinating story of how Harry’s parents got together.

🌻Too Many Legs by vivi1138 || @penguinanimagus, 4.4k (T)

Draco is thrilled when his son produces a powerful bout of accidental magic. But unlike most children his age, Scorpius doesn't stop there, and soon Draco is overwhelmed. Harry just finds it funny.

🌻Too precious to share by slowroad || @slowroad, 1.6k (M)

Harry and Draco are several months into their eighth year at Hogwarts. They've been in a relationship for a while now, but no one knows about them yet and they like it that way.

🌻Whiskers and Kisses by MotherBooker || @motherbookerao3, 1.5k (G)

When rabbits trust and care about a person, they can be very loving and affectionate creatures.

🌻With a Bite and A Hiss (and Some Curry On Top) by Zandra Gorin || @zandragorin, 4.7k (T)

Draco keeps bringing animals home and keeps cooking curry for Harry. Harry is of the opinion that it has got to stop. Well, not the cooking curry part.

Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter/Neville Longbottom ART

🌻Home is where the Bloody Plants are by Thunder_of_Dragons || @thunder-of-dragons, Digital Animated Pixel Art (G)

When Harry invited Neville and Draco to move into Grimmauld Place with him, his one condition was that they help him remove all of the old Pureblood artefacts. Draco was more than happy to agree, but he's determined not to let their drawing room become overrun by Neville's plants.

Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger

FIC

🌻Crookshanks and the Worst Weekend by Aneiria || @aneiria-writes, 2.1k (T)

In which Crookshanks' perfect weekend is ruined by the arrival of a tiny, annoying, infuriating kneazle kitten who follows him home, and the wizard who comes looking for it.

🌻Stranded Apart by In_Dreams || @indreamsink, 10.5k (T)

Lost in the wilderness without their wands, Hermione and Draco will need to learn to work together if they want to make it out in one piece.

🌻The Art of Seating Etiquette by inadaze22 || @inadaze22, 9.7k (E)

Hermione believes that every problem has a solution, and that solution can be found in a book. That is, until Draco starts sitting to her right every Friday. She has no answers until help comes in the form of an unlikely source: Ron Weasley.

🌻The Heart of Healing by niffizzle || @niffizzle, 5.1k (T)

Spending her Saturday volunteering at St. Mungo's was Hermione Granger’s favourite part of the week. Nothing would ruin that, not even Draco Malfoy showing up to complete his community service hours.

🌻The Importance of Being Honest by floorcoaster || @floorcoaster, 9k (T)

In the pursuit of the truth, sometimes nature lends a hand.

Draco Malfoy/Neville Longbottom

ART

🌻A Tattoo to Match by Pinkelephant42 || @pinkelephant42, Digital Art (G)

Tattoo Artist Draco Malfoy and Florist Neville Longbottom work next to each other, flirt a lot, and get matching tattoos.

Dudley Dursley/Gregory Goyle FIC

🌻Stranger in the bakery by toutcequonveut || @cequonveut, 3.6k (M)

The people of the town are confused. Dudley is confused, but then he isn't. Greg is confused, but he's in love and that's more important. Harry is very confused, but just goes with it.

Or: a glimpse into the morning after Dudley and Greg's first time, featuring bakery buns and other buns

Gen

FIC

🌻it seems to come down to us by porcelainsalt (bluedreaming) || @porcelainsalt, 1.1k (G)

Minerva takes matters into her own hands.

Ginny Weasley/Luna Lovegood

FIC

🌻Bluebells and Asters by goldenzingy46 || @goldenzingy46, 826 (G)

Luna braids Ginny's hair. Ginny complains about boys. Softness (and a little kissing) ensues.

🌻Morning Eggs by PhenomenalAsterisk || @phenomenalasterisk, 842 words (G)

Luna began her mornings with tea. Ginny began her mornings with Luna. With the first stirrings of consciousness, Ginny found herself snuggling into her beloved — Luna’s neck, her hair, her belly, wherever Ginny could reach, really, was free game for the morning ritual. Ginny would cling like a barnacle to Luna until she was lucid enough to function on her own.

🌻Sleepy Smiles by PhenomenalAsterisk || @phenomenalasterisk, 554 (G)

Luna’s eyes are still shut, though the corners of her thin lips are just barely quirked into a smile. “You missed the movie, love.” Ginny says quietly, pressing her lips against her hair in a brief kiss.

Luna tucks her head further into Ginny’s neck and murmurs back, “I woke up for the best part.” Ginny smiles. It’s not unusual for Luna to enjoy her wife’s strength, in the bedroom and otherwise, though she has never asked for something as indulgent as being carried to bed.

OR Ginny carries Luna to bed. Soft, sweet, and short bit of domestic fluff.

Ginny Weasley/Pansy Parkinson

FIC

🌻get off on whiplash by cjmasim || @lesbianlilyevans, 6k (T)

THE QUIBBLER'S 5TH ANNUAL HOLIDAY DRAWING

TWO LUCKY ENTRANTS WILL WIN AN ALL-EXPENSES-PAID WEEK-LONG TRIP TO PORTOFINO, ITALY

TO ENTER, RETURN THE FORM BELOW VIA OWL NO LATER THAN APRIL 17, 2004

Ginny manages to convince herself that entering the drawing was nothing other than a way to help a friend out by getting the numbers for The Quibbler's entries higher.

Naturally, she wins the drawing.

Harry Potter/Severus Snape

FIC

🌻How to See Without a Camera by RoonilWazlibMalfoy || @evenmyzefronposter, 11.7k (E)

Having returned to Hogwarts after his training to take over for Madam Pomfrey, Harry was just happy to be back home. He didn't even mind it when he realized he'd have to work closely with Severus Snape. One Kiss Cam incident at a Quidditch Match, however, left him wondering just how close he could get to the man.

🌻Quite The Perfect Sunday by HogwartsToAlexandria || @dwell-on-dreams, 751 words (E)

Spending all day in bed, every Sunday they could, had been on of Harry and Severus's traditions almost from the start. It was a moment just for them, which they cherished and made the most of every time.

Hermione Granger/Luna Lovegood

ART

🌻Picking Daisies by dragontamerdrarry || @dragontamerdame, Digital Art (G)

Luna Lovegood has a terrace garden filled with Xenophilius Lovegood approved yellow flowers. Today, Luna’s picked some yellow daisies and is enjoying spending some quality time with her girlfriend (who has her nose buried in the hottest new Magizoology text in town!)

Hermione Granger/Narcissa Malfoy

FIC 🌻Life Is Good by Houseofmalfoy || @malfoylestrange, 1.2k (G)

Narcissa surprises herself with the number of times she thinks that little sentence, surprises herself with how genuinely happy she is with the way her life turned out, even if she’s no longer surprised at all by the person who gave it to her.

She’s happy.

Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson

FIC

🌻A Million Worlds Apart by SiriuslyThatBitch || @siriuslythatbitch, 13.6k (E)

After spending the bulk of her childhood fighting a dark wizard, Hermione was looking forward to a relaxing year. Too bad fate always has something else planned, including ancient spells, sarcastic roommates, and a suffocating amount of sexual tension.

🌻Exodus by cdav || @cdav, 6.6k (T)

After the war, Hermione finds herself drawn to Pansy Parkinson for reasons she can't quite explain. Parkinson is adamant that they won't work out. Hermione's determined to prove otherwise.

Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley

FIC

🌻The Perfect Moment by DameinToyland || @dameintoyland, 1.8k (G)

Hermione gets home late from work and witnesses story time with Ron and the kids. Ron is nostalgic, Hugo is excited, and Rose isn’t having any of it.

James Sirius Potter/Teddy Lupin

FIC

🌻The Waiting (Is The Hardest Part) by Ladderofyears || @clemandben, 1.1k (E)

Teddy is waiting to give Jamie a performance.

Remus Lupin/Sirius Black

FIC

🌻A Purrfect Match by captainegg || @im-captain-egg, 1.7k (G)

When Remus walked into the shelter that day, he expected to leave with a new furry companion and not meet the love of his life.

🌻Here comes the sun by PollyDarton || @polly-darton, 5.5k (M)

Honestly, screw the sun. For all I care the world revolves around you.

🌻Moonlit Reflections by MoonCat457 || @mooncat457writing, 6.4k (T)

Sirius has been pining for Remus for far too long and James is sick of it. So, when it’s James’ turn to go on a late-night scouting mission with Remus on the grounds to work on the Marauder’s Map, he sends Sirius instead with instructions to finally just admit his feelings.

#hp fests #hp fluff fest #masterlist #hp fanart #hp fanfic

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raiseyourcups · 3 years

Text

Cabur

Chapter Four

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character Warnings: cursing Word Count: 2k Also on AO3

Masterlist

Summary: Din and Aili get to know each other. Kind of. They mostly try not to kill each other. Aili also learns exactly why she was asked to join the Mandalorian.

The ship had left Nevarro's atmo a while ago but even from where Aili was sitting she could tell they weren’t in hyperspace. She hadn't felt that sudden jolt and she wondered what the Mandalorian was planning. Hopefully he wasn't planning to toss her out into the cold of space.

Aili had just stood up, about to walk towards the cockpit when she was slammed back against the wall, an arm across her throat to hold her back. She hadn’t even heard him come down. The back of her head bounced off the metal and she forced her face to stay impassive. It kriffing hurt though and she knew she'd have a headache later. But there was no way she’d let the buckethead know any of that. Not when she knew he was just trying to intimidate her.

“Maybe your last fuck liked it against the wall but I prefer a bed or a cot, I’m not too picky,” Aili said, her tone bored as she looked into the Mandalorian’s visor. “Unless you want to have that fight now?”

"Why are you here?" The voice modulator in his helmet helped him sound threatening and if Aili were anyone else, maybe she'd be scared. It was more than a little unnerving, not being able to see anything but her own reflection in the visor. But just like Big Blue from the Covert, she wasn’t scared of him. Not when she had already mapped out all the ways she could take him down in less than five minutes before they’d even left Nevarro.

"I told you, the Armorer sent me." She didn’t know how many more times she would have to say the same thing. She had shown him the amulet the Armorer had given her and that hadn’t been enough. She did know that if he didn’t remove his arm from her throat soon, she’d give him a reason to toss her out the airlock.

"Why?”

"I have no idea, you're real shitty company and your ship is ancient,” Aili drawled. She knew that if the Mandalorian was anything like her when it came to her ship, he’d be more than a little offended. Which is why she chose to insult it...but it was ancient. He wouldn’t be able to argue that since it was pre-Empire.

The Mandalorian stared at her for a long minute, watching as she rolled her eyes and began to look around the ship from where she was. Finally he let her go. “I don’t trust you.”

Aili let out a scoff. “Didn’t expect you to but you know, I still have no idea why the Guild turned on you. And I’m telling the truth about that.”

She did know that it had better be something good or else she was going to be very annoyed with the Armorer sending her away. It didn’t matter that now she was owed a debt, she wouldn’t be able to see the girls for who knew how long and she was stuck with the worst company the universe had to offer. She would almost rather be stuck on Tatooine with the worst company the planet could muster.

He stared at her for another moment before turning, gesturing for her to follow him. Aili glared at his back as she brushed imaginary dust off her shoulder but she did follow him. She couldn’t deny her curiosity as she went up into the cockpit. The Mandalorian was already sitting in the pilot’s chair again and there was a round pod hovering beside him. Aili walked over to sit down in the co-pilot’s chair. The pod floated closer to her and Aili could see what the fuss was about.

“Huh. I can see why you broke Guild Code,” Aili muttered as she stared into the big, brown eyes of the Child. She wouldn’t have been able to turn the little green thing in either. She probably wouldn’t have even bothered coming back to Nevarro if she didn’t have four girls to take care of. She reached out slowly to run a hand over one of its giant ears. It didn’t seem to hate it as it closed its eyes at the touch. “Cute kid.”

“It’s 50 years old.”

“You’re kriffin’ kidding me.” Ailie turned her head to stare at the Mandalorian in shock. There was no way this kid was older than her, no way he was older than Jaesa. It looked like a toddler.

“I’m not.”

“Huh. Thought I had seen everything but I guess not. Who put the bounty out on him?” She didn’t know who would want a 50 year old child, especially not one of a species she had never seen before. Unless that was the reason they wanted it. Ugh, collectors. Almost as bad as slave traffickers.

“Imperials.”

Aili didn’t know what to say to that, actually she did but she didn’t want to say it in front of a kid. She still had no idea why she had agreed to being on the Mandalorian's ship, but looking at a green baby that was apparently fifty years old she would be damned if she let anything happen to him, especially if there were Imps after him. The Child looked over at the Mandalorian with wide eyes that were drooping closed every few seconds. Obviously tired.

She wondered exactly what Imperials wanted with it but for now she would settle for no answers. She let out a quiet sigh before heading back down to the cargo hold to one of the bags she had brought.

A quick shuffle in the bag and she pulled out a small blanket, it wasn’t in the best condition but it would be enough for the kid. Now to get the Mandalorian to take it for a while. She climbed back up into the cockpit, blanket tucked into her back pocket. The Mandalorian hadn’t so much as flinched when she sat back down. She held the scrap of a blanket out to him. "Here, hold onto this.”

"Why?” He made no move to grab the blanket, hadn’t even bothered to do more than glance at it before looking back at his star map. Probably trying to figure out where to go before the Guild caught up to them.

"Because the kid already imprinted on you and will sleep better if he can smell you. Unless you plan on letting him share your cot because he won't stop crying.”

"..." He didn’t say anything as he snatched the blanket from Aili and placed it on his lap. She wasn’t about to comment on how that wouldn’t help with putting his scent on it. She’d let him figure that one out on his own since he wasn’t being a very good host right now. Hadn’t even offered her a drink before pinning her against a wall. She usually preferred at least two drinks before letting someone do that.

“So where are we heading?” She asked to attempt a conversation. She figured it would be somewhere small, a planet or a moon that had a low population. But it would be nice to know specifics.

“Why do you have armor made of beskar?” The Mandalorian shot back at her, not even the voice modulator could hide the accusation in his voice.

Aili stared at the Mandalorian with a blank look on her face. “I didn’t steal it if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I never said anything about you stealing it.”

“Like I said, it was implied. Now where are we going?”

“Sorgan.” He finally answered after a long silence, reaching over to give the Child the blanket that Aili had given him. “It doesn’t have a population density, no star port, no industrial centers.”

Aili made a face at the blanket but she couldn’t stop the smile when the Child took it in his tiny hands. He really was cute. She looked back at the Mandalorian. “So it’s such a backwater skug hole that it won’t be on other hunter’s sensors.”

“Yes.”

Aili let out a small hum, agreeing that it was their best option at the moment. Silence came over the cockpit, the Child curling his fingers around the “new” blanket he had been given. The Mandalorian entered the coordinates before turning to look at Aili. “Are you going to answer my question?”

“Your Armorer made it for me,” she answered shortly. She didn’t think she needed to give him the long story, it wasn’t like they were friends who traded stories.

“Why?”

“You answered one, I answered one. We’re even.” She didn't owe him any answers especially after he threatened to shoot her in the head back on Nevarro followed by him trying to choke her after almost giving her a concussion.

He let out what sounded like a sigh before looking down at the Child in his pram. “You ready to lay low for a couple of months and stretch your legs, you little womp rat?”

A small smile crossed Aili’s face at the sound of the kid’s new nickname. The Mandalorian set the ship's autopilot on and stood from his seat. Aili slid her gaze from the stars streaking past them to the man she assumed was staring at her now. "Did you need something?"

They stared at each other for a minute before the Mandalorian finally gestured to the door of the cockpit. He walked out first and Aili stood up and followed since she assumed that’s what he wanted from her. He opened a panel on the wall, revealing a sorry excuse for a cot. She truly wondered how this was the bounty hunter considered top of the Guild alongside her.

“I don’t have another cot, you can use it.”

“You don’t have to act all chivalrous, I’ll be just fine on the floor.” Aili pointed over to where she had placed her things before the Mandalorian had made it to the ship. One of the bags held the weapons she didn’t usually take with her and a few other things while another bag held weapons she used more often, and another yet had necessities like another blanket and a small pillow.

Actually she had gotten a lot of her things onto the Crest given her time constraint. The helmet tilted to the side just a little and Aili wondered if he was trying to figure out when and how she had gotten some of her things on board when it hadn’t taken him that long to get back to his ship once the rest of the Covert came to his rescue.

“I can’t let you sleep on the floor.”

“Why, ‘cause it’s dirty? Mando, I don’t care, I’ve slept on sand before. Do you know how uncomfortable sand is to sleep on?” They stared at each other for a tense couple of minutes before Aili threw her hands up in annoyance. “Split it, 50/50. You take it one day, I’ll take it the next.”

“Fine. You get it first.”

Aili cringed at the thought but kept her comments to herself. “Fine. Are you going to keep the Child with you or should I put him to bed?”

“I’ll keep him with me.”

“Okay you do know I can’t make off with him, right? We’re in hyperspace,” Aili said, an incredulous look on her face. Even if she made off with the escape pod, which she wasn’t sure she could even find on this wreck of a ship, they were in hyperspace. There was no telling where she’d end up.

“I’ll wake you when we drop out of hyperspace.” The Mandalorian said before turning to go back up into the cockpit.

“Doubt I’ll sleep that long but okay,” Aili muttered to herself, she had doubts that she would be able to get even a standard hour of sleep on the cot. But she was tired, the day had been a long one even if she hadn’t been in the firefight. She hadn’t slept before getting to Nevarro and then she had to run to get onto the ship. With one last cringe she grabbed her blanket and pillow before climbing into the cot.

TAG LIST

@lifeisapitch15

#din djarin x original character #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian x oc #mandalorian imagine #my writing #meant to post earlier but couldn't get the read more to work

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rachel-matteo-merlin-recs · 3 years

Text

Canon Era - Single Fic Arcs

Rheged

Author: McShame

Description:

Post S5 (AU): canon to the end of S4 & part of the way through S5.

Gwen and Arthur have been married for several years, Merlin’s magic has been revealed and Arthur has now reached a kind of cold peace with it. Then a delegation arrives from a kingdom based on magic, and suddenly Destiny is starkly and ruthlessly thrust to the fore. The question is should - can - it be avoided?

Word Count: 124,383

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

Definitely might want to pay attention to the tags on this one; one scene can be interpreted both as dubious consent (but more like a I want this, but I can’t do this type of situation), as well as mentions of infidelity and attempted suicide by magic because Merlin just doesn’t want to deal with the fallout and aftermath of his and Arthur’s actions and the consequences it has on their relationships with Gwen and Gwaine. But if you can handle the rough spots, this fic is truly spectacular.

Whispering Your Name

Author: CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

Description:

A different take on the dorocha. Instead of them being faceless screams that attack you, they are actually figures of the dead. Merlin doesn’t quite realize how much death affected him until him and the knights go to close the veil.

Word Count: 22,517

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

One of my absolute favorite fics of all time. It also has a bit of Uther redemption in it and Lancelot lives! It also has one of my favorite interactions in a fanfiction:

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Arthur growled, throwing up his hands. “That thing murdered my people and you allowed it to live--”

“You murdered my people and I allowed you to live,” Merlin said sharply. Gwaine felt his eyes widen. Bold words. Part of him wanted to ‘ooh’ at it but knew it would lead to a very bad outcome.

Dower the Stars

Author: RurouniHime

Description:

During a time of great prosperity in Albion, the Druids offer Emrys a precious gift. Arthur is not amused.

Word Count: 40,654

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

A super fun but also very romantic fic. Druids far and wide come in and kiss Merlin, hoping that their magic will react a certain way with Merlin’s and he’ll bond with one of them. Merlin however decides to throw a wrench in his plan when he chooses to bond with Arthur instead after almost losing him.

Overstepping

Author: Masked_Mayhem

Description:

Merlin knew he was pushing his limits, that he was millimetres away from overstepping the invisible line that Arthur had wordlessly set and the warlock had been careful not to cross, but he was never one to listen to the rules that were set for him. Especially not when he was afraid.

Agravaine had managed to weasel his way into his king’s mind and ingrain doubts in the people he loved, the people that loved him...doubts that only took place and bloomed as the traitor lied and deceived and planted things against them. He had gotten rid of Gwen easily enough, and had almost gotten rid of Gaius. Merlin was afraid. Were a few words and items all it would take for Arthur to turn against him too?

Word Count: 51,915

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

Merlin steps over a line and Arthur punishes him for it. Later, when Merlin was right, Arthur regrets his decision and saves him. Romance blooms between the two, but a wrench gets thrown in along the way with the reveal of Merlin’s magic and deeds in Arthur’s name. There is a lot of angst, but I like to feel as if it’s a happy ending for the two.

Springes to Catch Woodcocks

Author: myashke

Description:

When Arthur pushes Merlin away to protect him, what lengths will Merlin go to remain in his life

Word Count: 83,292

Completed: No

Comment(s):

Unfortunately the only negative that this fic has going for it is that it doesn’t seem as if it’ll ever be finished. There are 7 chapters and they were last updated in December of 2011. Still worth the read.

Two Souls

Author: Naelyn

Description:

A few days after Camlann, Merlin and Morgana find themselves imprisoned in the same place, and forced to spend their days together. Basically, this is just a pretext for non-stop Merlin and Morgana interaction once the Emrys reveal has been made.

“I’ve gone soft over the day, you know. A few months ago, I would have killed you where you stood.”

“A few months ago, you did try to kill me where I stood,” Merlin reminded her, and she could hear the smirk in his tone.

Word Count: 11,417

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

One of the only fics on this list that won’t be specifically a Merthur fic; but it still isn’t Mergana either. The idea is that after the revelation at Camlann, one can assume that Arthur lived and that Morgana wasn’t killed; that Merlin had been banished or sent away for the lies he told and somehow was subsequently captured.

What starts out as a hostile interactions between Merlin and Morgana leads to understanding and apologies that lead on a path to healing. The end is left open ended, it’s implied that they are sent to their deaths in another kingdom without hope of being rescued, but you can use your imagination to decide if you wanted them to have a happier ending.

The Patter of Tiny Feet on Cold Stone Floors

Author: TheAvalonian

Description:

When Guinevere finds that she is unable to bear Arthur a child, Merlin offers her the perfect solution: an ancient spell which can create new life out of love, if that love is pure and powerful enough. But after the ritual, it becomes increasingly obvious that while Gwen has indeed become pregnant, the child she carries might not have been created from the love between Arthur and his wife - but rather from the love between Arthur and his Court Sorcerer.

Word Count: 79,131

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

Merlin and Arthur have a baby! But it’s not an mpreg fic. Guinevere discovers that Arthur and Merlin are more tied together than she and Arthur are - and while that is difficult for her to come to terms with, she concedes that Arthur has the chance that she never had with Lancelot and doesn’t want to stand in the way. Queue of course evil plotting on behalf of Morgana and a kidnapping of the queen and princess - who happens to have shown gifts of her own - and it’s a rollercoaster of a tale that leaves you wanting more.

Metamorphose

Author: clotpolesonly

Description:

When Merlin falls into bed with Arthur, he doesn’t expect to wake up alone. He doesn’t expect Arthur to give him the cold shoulder either, but there is something else he expects even less which forces him out of the kingdom for over a year.

He returns to find a traitor in the court, an army on the way, and a love he’d thought all but lost waiting for him with open arms.

Word Count: 33,753

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

I don’t usually enjoy mpreg fics because they don’t make sense to me from a biological stand point and usually get explained away as “because reasons”. This fic is an exception, it does a good job of explaining why it is that Merlin might wound up in his situation and it deals with difficult question about how to handle the knowledge and who to share it with.

Flowers in the Wind

Author: the_seaworthy_muffin

Description:

A thousand and five-hundred years ago, Arthur Pendragon is sent to the god Emrys as Camelot’s yearly tribute. He comes to befriend the god, and as the prince continues to spend time on the god’s island, something more seems to blossom between them. But then the Lady Morgana goes missing, and Arthur betrays Emrys to his father in a moment of misguided trust. Emrys’ island burns, the heart-broken god refusing to fight for his life. In dying, he puts a terrible curse upon the prince: to live forever, and never forget.

A millennium and a half has passed. Arthur is being slowly torn apart from the inside-out, memories of the past an ever-growing weight in his chest. When he finally finds Emrys again, he is elated - he’s ready to beg, weep, anything, if only he can find blissful forgetfulness. But while the god’s power has not faded, his memories have, and he lives his life as young artist Merlin Emrys, believing himself to be a simple man with interesting gifts. And Arthur’s hopes are dashed. But there is one last way: Arthur can try, and make Merlin remember again.

Word Count: 67,366

Completed: No - but it is being continuously updated

Comment(s):

This is a truly spectacular work of fiction and I almost didn’t give it a chance. I am so glad that I did. Honestly, this is now one of my favorite authors on AO3.

Peace, Plum, Pear

Author: sweetestdrain

Description:

How in his tenth year of rule King Arthur chose a man to take the role of Court’s Magician, and how Arthur made his decision.

Word Count: 13,700

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

Merlin fled the kingdom after Uther found out about his magic, and now it’s been ten years since the old king’s death and Arthur’s ascension to the throne, and yet Merlin is still nowhere to be found.

Arthur gives in and holds trials for the new Court Sorcerer and in walks in an old man named Myrddin Wyllt. But, there’s more than meets the eye to this strange and mysterious magician.

Deluge

Author: Suaine

Description:

In the aftermath of Merlin’s battle against Nimueh, the rain seems a minor complication, perhaps even a cleansing influence. When the rain doesn’t stop, Camelot is pushed to the brink once more. This time, Arthur may be in over his head.

Contains: a lot of wet boys in emotional scenes, Arthur knowing more than he lets on, Merlin being an idiot, both of them being a bit stupidly heroic, telepathic chess, rain (lots of), war, making out against a tree, coincidental druids, co-opted history, co-opted myths, magic, coming of age (metaphorically), and more magically annoying yet surprisingly un-floody water than you can shake a stick at.

Word Count: 50,565

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

Beautifully written fic, truly a great addition to the fandom.

Idiosyncratic Romance

Author: F0rcryinoutloud

Description:

“And what about your destiny?” Gaius asked softly. “Merlin, you know Arthur needs you - whether he realizes it or not. You won’t have to hide from him forever.”

Word Count: 13,942

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

Beauty in the Ashes of our Lives

Author: Fulgance

Description:

After Merlin is executed for Uther’s murder, Arthur’s world falls apart.

Word Count: 21,599

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

Arthur makes a huge mistake when he executes Merlin following the reveal of his magic.

Tiercel

Author: waldorph

Description:

Arthur is constantly at war.

Word Count: 6,571

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

This is a wonderful magic reveal fic where Merlin goes out and discovers more about magic while still taking care of Arthur and protecting him; Arthur is constantly at war because Uther has decided he wants to take over and unite Albion.

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astraeagreengrass · 4 years

Text

Right Where You Are, That’s Where I Am

Sometimes, finding yourself means finding someone

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1.904

Warnings: Angst, allusions to violence and PTSD, fluffy ending

A/N: This is my submission to @wkemeup’s 4K Writing Challenge. My prompt was “Mariner’s Apartment Complex” by Lana del Rey. Thank you Kas for having me and congratulations on such an impressive milestone! ♡

Disclaimer: I don’t own Bucky Barnes or any other fictional characters mentioned in this story - they are property of Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. The title belongs to Lana Del Rey. The plot is my own creation.

You lose your way, just take my hand You're lost at sea, then I'll command your boat to me again

The plane left you in the border of Burundi.

From the muddy, narrow airstrip to the meeting point it took you four hours in a 1977 Jeep CJ-7. The air-conditioner was broken, forcing you to roll down the windows hoping for some breeze, but no such luck. Your hair was stuck to your nape and your skin collected mosquito bites as you drove through the heart of Africa, trailing the Mwiruzi river, guided only by an old printed map and a vibranium compass.

You reached the village at nightfall. Less than twenty houses formed a semi-circle around a tiny square, a well right in the middle of it. It was similar to hundreds of other villages you passed through on your way, but a rune drawn in white paint on the door of the house closest to the road gave it away as the right one.

You parked the Jeep beneath a Tamboti tree, tucking the keys under the passenger’s side seat cushion. Taking your backpack and a black duffel bag, you exited.

Nakia was waiting for you at the porch of the seventh house, a fussing baby in her arms. She was trying to soothe him with a lullaby sung in xhosa, her melodious voice the only sound apart from the crickets, but the child was insistent. Realizing she wouldn’t acknowledge you until the child was calm, you sat in the rickety wooden porch step, tucking your head between your knees. You hadn’t slept in over two days and finally finding Nakia gave you some unexpected relief that allowed the exhaustion to creep in.

“We’re leaving in the morning” she announced a few minutes later, when the baby surrendered to sleep. “You can rest until then.”

You wouldn’t, but it was nice of her to offer.

“It’s safe here” she added and you just nodded. That wasn’t enough guarantee to let your guard down.

Nakia sighed, only minor frustrated. Your behaviour annoyed her, but she knew she couldn’t demand much from you, even if you did look dead on your feet.

“Come on” she said, mentioning with her head for you to follow her inside. The house consisted of a single room, a kitchen, and two long, pic-nic style tables. It was relatively full, which immediately startled you, but your deft gaze was quick to assess that these people were more suspicious of you than you were of them.

There were no adult men, only women and children. The oldest boy appeared to be around twelve, and was carefully tucked to his mother’s side. There were other babies like the one Nakia extended to a girl sitting by the door, before exclaiming in igbo:

“Ayo! The milk is here!”

Ayo was a middle-aged woman mixing food by the stove. She nodded, but made no move to step away from her careful cooking.

“Are you hungry?”

You were, but it didn’t look like you were welcome. Regardless, Nakia mentioned you forward. Taking the black duffel bag from your hands, your host started taking out the cans of milk formula you bought in Johannesburg.

The request seemed odd to you at first: why did Nakia, the Kenyan heiress turned Wakandan spy, needed dozens of cans of milk formula somewhere in Tanzania? It looked as though this room was the answer.

Ayo wordessly placed a bowl of githeri in front of you. It was delicious and you didn’t hesitate when she offered you seconds. While you ate, Nakia and the cook stacked the cans in neat piles on the cabinet under the sink. You were still eating when they finished.

"We'll take your car to Mukigina" Nakia stated. "Someone will get us there."

"When?"

"In sixteen hours."

"How long from here to Mukigina?"

"A little over seven hours if we go off the road."

You shrugged. You've been going off the road for a while now.

"Can I ask you something?" she leaned closer to you. Nakia could easily be mistaken by one of your sisters, with her flawless features and deadly skills. But the gleam in her eyes, still present after all the terrible things she's seen during her undercover work as a War Dog, set her apart from the daughters of the Red Room. She wasn't broken, battered and bruised on the inside like you were. And all the horrors she'd witnessed weren't caused by her. "How did you know he was in Wakanda?"

You met Nakia at an underground casino in Busan right after the fall of Hydra. She was following a lead on a poacher of and you were following a lead on him. When the poacher turned out to be more vicious than she expected, it was your bullet in his head that solved the problem. You never met again - until two weeks ago, when you saw her standing next to the Wakandan king at the United Nations.

"My sister was with your king in the summer" you explained. "In Germany."

"Oh" her eyebrows rose so high they disappeared under her headscarf. "Romanoff?"

"Yeah."

"That explains how you know him."

You snorted.

"How did you think I knew him?"

"I don't know..." she trailed off. "Honestly, for the past two years I've thought about you constantly. You saved my life and I couldn't even say a proper thank you before you disappeared. I thought maybe you were an Avenger, but you're too squirmish for that. And none of them wear black, do they? They love their bright colors."

You laughed, the first real one in a long time.

Nakia patted you on the shoulder gently.

"I meant what I said earlier. You should get some sleep."

"Sleep isn't really my thing" you muttered.

"Every single girl in this village was rescued from the Boko Haram. We secured this location a couple of months ago because these men, these terrorists… They don't care about the women they steal, but they do care about their children. Especially if they're boys. So don't be ashamed of your nightmares, 'cause we're used to them around here."

You scanned the room. Most of the girls had left, but there were still three huddling by the stove, listening carefully to Ayo's instructions. They didn't look a day older than sixteen. At sixteen, you'd already killed more men than you could count with both hands. You wondered if they'd kill their kidnappers if given the chance.

Nakia's room was in the house next door. Moonlight filtered in through the curtainless window, bathing the small chamber in silver glow. You were asleep before your head hit the pillow.

In less than a day, you'd gone from old cars and dirty roads to spaceships and hover carriers.

Birnin Zana - The Golden City - rose miraculously under the savanna sun. Skyscrapers as high was the eye could see, a protective dome and cutting-edge technology - all of it coexisting in perfect harmony with nature and ancient traditions.

Nakia placed you in a hut in the outskirts of the city - close enough that you could visit Princess Shuri’s laboratory everyday but far enough that the locals wouldn’t be bothered by a foreigner’s presence.

The first week was torture. Blurry recollections of your past haunted your dreams, leaving you gasping for air, staring out the window until the first light appeared behind the trees. From dawn to dusk you'd stay at the lab, guarding his frozen body like a ghost.

It finally got on Shuri’s nerve.

“That’s it. I'm kicking you out."

She sent you to the Dora Milaje. Their leader, Okoye - tall, gorgeous and intimidating - was apparently looking forward to meet you. On a grassy field overlooking the river she handed you a wooden stick.

"Let's set how you fight without a gun" she said with a smirk.

It was disastrous. Okoye and the other warriors were graceful, silent and fast like cheetahs, meanwhile you were a hippo in heels, scrambling with the wooden stick. Madame B's voice taunted you, like the devil on your shoulder, seething everytime they bested you. On the fourth day of training your demons finally caught up to you and you broke down.

Okoye held you, whispering in soft Yoruba that you were safe.

A month later you braved the market. Manioc, okra and tomatoes in a booth, turmeric, cardamom and nutmeg in the other. The smell was intoxicating, swirling in your brain in gormandize like never before. You left chewing on a ripe piece of watermelon, pink juice staining your lips, with a pot of African violets cradled in your arms.

The violets were placed in your kitchen table - two seats, one for you and one for him when he came. Soon afterwards they were joined by a banana bunch, plucked from the tree in your yard.

The discovery of the banana tree made way for lettuce, eggplant and pumpkin. The seeds were gifted to you by Queen Ramonda herself and they took to the soil like sand to sea. When you noticed the first green leaf sprouting from the earth, you wept. Your hands, once made for killing, were now giving life.

The food welcomed the children. They'd play in your yard, sidestepping the flower beds like a dance. When they grew tired, they barged in, all five or six of them demanding lemonade and strawberries and questions.

"What does snow feels like?"

"Do you miss Russia?"

"Is it true the Americans think Africa is a country?"

Like ground ice. No. Some of them do, yes.

It was late December when Shuri gave you the news.

"We're ready to wake him up."

They placed his sleeping body on the bed, saying that he should rise by himself in a few hours. Suddenly, you were fourteen again, waiting behind bulletproof doors in a secret facility in Siberia, waiting to meet him for the first time. Only he wasn't the Asset or Soldat anymore. He had a name, a history, a mind of his own.

You'd killed for him. Tortured innocents. Thwarted governments. Broke a thousand rules just to be closer to your forbidden lover. Schemed and lied looking for his freedom, uselessly. Lost yourself trying to find him.

"Come with me" Natalia pleaded. "That spy I was supposed to kill in Budapest… He spared me. Said he can take us both to America. S.H.I.E.L.D. will offer us protection."

"I can't" you refused. "I can't leave him."

"You'll die before you save him."

Your sister was wrong: you survived. And now, halfway across the world, fate gifted you with another chance.

The children woke him. They scurried out of the house, laughing and chanting. Emhlope ingcuka, they called him. White wolf.

James Buchanan Barnes found you gazing at the horizon beyond the lake. Slowly, testing his legs, he walked over to your side.

"Good morning" you smiled.

"Good morning."

"How are you feeling?" you asked.

"Good."

You turned then, eyes catching his in the warm daybreak. A breeze ruffled his hair and your skirt, a gentle reminder that it was real. You were real.

"James?" you tried, hesitantly.

"Bucky" he declared in triumph.

"Bucky" you liked it. It suited him. "It's nice to meet you, Bucky. I'm sorry it took so long."

His right hand squeezed yours. Callus and scars met callus and scars. Your rough edges molded into his in a perfect fit, in this new land that took you in as its own.

You were home.

My masterlist

Everything taglist: @scentedsongrebel @youclickedthislink @thegetawaywriter

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky barnes #corneliabarnes #my wrting

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sophieellisbextorarchives · 4 years

Text

Sequins, songs, kids... dance! This is what saved SOPHIE ELLIS-BEXTOR’s sanity during lockdown

‘I think I’m doing this for me.’ But for now, we need to head back to her house, where Sonny has appeared, and Mickey is delighted to see his mum. Plates are waiting to be spun, and as I let myself out, Jesse is putting on a show in the kitchen, with Sophie as the audience, sitting under the disco ball. ....and her wonderfully joyous discos filmed in the family kitchen helped lift the nation’s spirits too. She tells Hattie Crisell why Friday nights round at hers became so precious

ORIGINAL ARTICLE: https://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/you/article-8549299/Sequins-songs-kids-dance-saved-SOPHIE-ELLIS-BEXTORs-sanity-lockdown.html

Sophie Ellis-Bextor opens the door to me with a toddler in her arms – smiley 18-month-old Mickey – and her four-year-old son Jesse behind her, his hair a deep shade of copper. ‘You have the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen,’ I tell him, genuinely quite dazzled, and he replies bashfully, ‘Well, I’ve just had it cut.’

Welcome to Sophie’s world: a large and glittering house in West London, packed to the rafters with kitsch, toys, cats and boys. I don’t know how many cats are around, but the boys number five: Mickey, Jesse, eight-year-old Ray, 11-year-old Kit and 16-year-old Sonny. Managing the lot are the singer, her husband Richard Jones (bass guitar player with The Feeling and the supergroup Loup GarouX), and a nanny, who joins them Monday to Friday during the working day. ‘I used to have a nanny who was with us all the time, and to be honest I felt like it was too much,’ says Sophie. ‘It’s fine if it’s my thing that I think about 24 hours a day, but I think it’s healthy for other people to have their own life away from it all. It’s five kids – it’s a lot.’

It certainly is, and it’s hard to imagine how demanding it must have been during lockdown, when the only one missing was the nanny. The public got a glimpse of this when Sophie performed a weekly series of ‘kitchen discos’, broadcasting them live via Instagram, her husband filming on his phone. They launched these shows during the bleakest part of the pandemic, and the good will that emanated from them was enormously cheering. She would appear in a sequined jumpsuit or rainbow-striped dress, a pair of platforms at the end of her mile-long legs, and would serenade the camera while children wandered casually in and out of view. Sometimes her teenage son would jump in to rescue the baby from a trailing wire, or one of the boys would need a cuddle, and their mother would pull them in close, keeping her other hand on the mic.

It was charming chaos. The music encompassed hits from Sophie’s back catalogue such as ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ and ‘Take Me Home’ – or ‘Stay at Home’, as she rechristened it – but also crowd-pleasing covers and theatrical numbers from shows such as Grease. For the audience, it offered uplifting relief from the frightening reality of the time: climbing death rates and isolation. It was comfort music, I say. ‘Exactly,’ she agrees. ‘And disco’s always had that for me anyway. It’s so euphoric and joyful, and it’s complex. In disco you can have the most painful, heartbreaking scenarios, but they’re in among something that makes you want to put your hands in the air and sing along. I think music can allow you the space to feel joy and anxiety at once.’

I am delighted to find that one end of their large kitchen still looks very much as it did, with the disco ball and a half-deflated helium balloon in place over the sofa. She confirms that it’s more or less always like this, perhaps minus the tinsel curtain. Colour and fun are everywhere in the house, from the framed retro artworks filling every wall, to the pinball machine in pride of place. At the other end of the kitchen, a diner-style menu-board for the kids bears the words, ‘Be polite or no service.’

Leaving the children with the nanny, Sophie and I head out to chat on a bench in the park. She’s wearing an embroidered navy dress and a red fluffy cardigan, with red lipstick that has mostly worn off; at 41, she’s truly beautiful, with very pale green eyes. Despite what we’ve seen from her on Instagram, it hasn’t been an easy time. For one thing, there was the fall from her bike in June that left her in hospital with a gory head wound. When I mention it, though, she brushes it off with, ‘I cannot dine out on that any more.’ Then she adds, ‘I mean, I don’t recommend cycling off a towpath – it did hurt.’

‘I knew that this was something that was happening in millions of households. I do worry about all my parents – I say “all” because I’ve got step-parents as well – but I think really it was focused on John, because he’s so vulnerable. It’s such a weird, torturous thing isn’t it for human beings, if you say that hanging out with someone you love is the one thing that might actually endanger them? How can you wrap your head around that?’

She hasn’t been thrilled with the government messaging around the virus. ‘“Stay at home” is clear and concise and all ages get it. “Stay alert”? I hardly ever feel alert. I don’t feel alert now.

And we’ve all shown we’re good at following guidelines that make sense, but you can’t keep bending it for people. Look at the effect when the rules were made flexible.’ She seems to be referring obliquely to the Dominic Cummings/Barnard Castle debacle. ‘We all thought, “Oh well, if we could have been going off and having day trips all this time, why was I staying at home and not seeing my mum, who lives ten minutes away?” I found that really tough.’

The kitchen discos were as much for her and the family as they were for the audience. ‘It was Richard’s idea. One day we were making plans and doing stuff, and the next day it was like, boomph, everything shut down. Suddenly we were just home all the time, all work cancelled, all the festivals… I was supposed to be going to Australia, New Zealand, I had gigs all round Europe. And Richard was, like, “Well, why don’t we do a gig here, and it gives us something to do and a bit of fun?” I think we missed everybody.’

Performing during that time, even via Instagram, gave her a huge sense of connection, she says. ‘I honestly don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t had that, and I don’t know how it would have been for our family, because it became really precious.’ She’s now planning a Kitchen Disco Tour next May (there will also be an album, out this October), and hopes it will offer audiences a cathartic experience. ‘I want to provide a place where people can get lost in the moment. I want them to walk out of there and go, “Oh my goodness, I didn’t know how much I needed that.”’

It was no surprise to her boys to see her dressed up and performing; Mickey sleeps in the room where she keeps her fantastic stage wardrobe, and they’ve all been with her to festivals, gigs and recording studios. It was clear from their low-key presence in the kitchen discos (she left it up to them whether they wanted to be there or not) that they’re not fazed by it. ‘The older I’ve got, the more the me at home and the me on stage is the same person anyway,’ she says. Her first solo album came out almost 20 years ago; this one will be her eighth.

She’s also just celebrated her 15th wedding anniversary with Richard. Theirs was a whirlwind romance that stuck: ‘I found out I was having a baby after only about six weeks,’ she says with a smile. ‘We’d known each other for a while – he’d been in my band – but we’d literally just started dating and I hadn’t even really told anybody.’ Sonny was born two months prematurely, thus arriving only eight months after they’d got together.

And they’ve now got him almost to adulthood, I say. ‘Yeah, and he’s lovely; he’s his own person. You know, parenthood is so much more reactive than I ever thought,’ she says. ‘I thought it was all about what you put in. It’s not. I realised it the day I had him: I looked at this tiny baby and I thought, “Oh my goodness, you’re Sonny, and now I’ve got to help you show me who you are and what you need from me.”’

To raise five children while continually working is no mean feat, and she mentions that there were tense moments during lockdown. But she and Richard clearly make a good team. ‘I guess the thing that’s often not celebrated as much in long-term relationships – and I think this goes for family members, friends, all sorts of relationships where there’s love – is that we actually really like each other,’ she says. ‘I really like who Richard is, and I respect him and I like spending time with him.’

She took an extended break after Sonny came along, following a difficult birth. ‘But to be honest, the more babies I’ve had and the older I’ve got, the more confident I’ve become about what I can do around being pregnant and having kids,’ she says. ‘I’ve been better with the last couple at just keeping going with the work either side of it. I have a job where I can basically call the shots a bit. I’m very lucky with that and I totally exploit it. Also I like it if I do a big gig and I’m six months pregnant – I feel quite clever,’ she laughs.

The challenges of this complicated life have inspired Sophie’s new project – the podcast Spinning Plates, on which she chats to other working mums, including Caitlin Moran, Fearne Cotton, the mummy blogger Candice Brathwaite, and her own mother Janet. ‘I’ve got such a brilliant array of women, and honestly it feels like a privilege to sit there for an hour and ask them loads of nosy stuff,’ she says. ‘Obviously the springboard is the idea of the working mother, but actually what really unites us is we’re all women, and there are so many things about being a modern woman… It’s a rich pot of stuff to go through, really.’

She loved having the chance to interview her mum. ‘In my head she’s always been this real trailblazer and very confident. She never seemed to have any guilt with any of her work, and I’m glad, because it gave me a good role model of “It’s OK for me to be selfish enough to have my work and keep it separate if I want to, and do the things I want to do.” I don’t think I would have been confident enough if I hadn’t had a mum like that; I’ve struggled a bit to give myself permission sometimes even with that.’

Another chat, with Yvonne Telford, founder of the fashion brand Kemi Telford, made her realise that at times she’s too self-critical. ‘She said she hates it when she hears women say, “Oh, I’m such an idiot,” and I was, like, “God, I do that all the time.” Even with the podcast, when I first started writing to people I wanted as guests, I’d say, “Don’t worry, I know how it goes – you’re probably too busy to reply.” Then I was, like, what am I doing? I’m saying to them, “Ignore me!”’ She bursts out laughing. It sounds as though making the podcast might be rather empowering. ‘Yes,’ she agrees.

#Sophie Ellis-Bextor #British #singer-songwriter #kitchen disco #Richard Jones #The Feeling #Loup Garoux #photoshoot

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theinfiniteamount · 4 years

Note

hiya! when you get this, if you want, answer with five things that make you happy, then send it to the last ten people in your recent activity list. have fun! (- studycrim)

• My adopted orange cat son

• Taking walks with my cat in the forest

• My uncle’s (substitute dad) hugs, he gives the best hugs. All warm and safe and comforting, and he’s tall so I just disappear being surrounded by a half-giant. It’s great. Also just hugging people I care about in general.

• Whenever it’s raining, but especially during autumn or summer, even better if it’s pouring. Also the smell from the forest/asphalt after rain. But also the three best places when it’s raining: inside reading a book or watching a movie, at my favourite café/coffee shop, or outside in a place that’s stress-free and not crowded.

• My favourite drinks at my favourite café/coffee shop, none of which are coffee 😂 because I don’t like it and can’t drink it anyway. 3favourites: So their (winter/cold season) white hot chocolate because it’s extra sweet and they add marshmallows and the foam is also kinda marshmallowy. They have this warm and sorta foamy spiced apple drink (nothing like apple cider) which is unfortunately also only available during winter/colder months. Their chai latte, iced or warm (without espresso shots obviously.)

• Being the youngest sibling. Which means it is my duty in life to bother and annoy my brothers on purpose, and also to eat the cookies in the pantry and blame it on them because I know I’ll get away with it (unfortunately much harder when you no longer live in the same house.) Also beating my brothers is Crash Team Racing, or any game in general. I’m usually not competitive tbh, but older siblings, the literal bastards, must go down.

• My plant babies. A mixture of literal rescues, random seeds I’ll find/buy, sometimes seeds/plantlings (just gonna call them that) from fruits/vegetables/herbs. A few: My (more or less) sister-in-law gave me this really cute purple-pink plant that also shifts in green-yellow and it’s super cute, she also gave me this card (like a present card) that’s recycled paper with seeds in pressed in it and it’s really cute. I also find my teeny tiny mango plant trees that I planted from mango seeds absolutely adorable.

• Swimming in a lake during late afternoon/summer nights before it gets completely dark, and the lake is covered in so much fog you can’t see more than 1-3 meters head depending on how far out you go

• Wake up early just to watch the sunrise on the beach with someone

• The sunset here during late autumn, there’s this one train station quite far up compared to the highway, and when you take the train and pass forests/small lakes, you get to see the most beautiful sunsets

• Mangoes 🥭

• Baking, or making a general mess in the kitchen

• Also being a general mess, like when painting

• Some of the 70’s styled fashion

• Jumpsuits/playsuits, but wide/not tight legs if long. The ones with wide legs have the same effect as wearing a sweater with too long arms that you can swish around

• Pretty much most yellow things

• My favourite book series, Skulduggery Pleasant

• Music, like my ridiculous amount of playlists on Spotify could tell anyone that

• Scents/smells I like, or people that smell good. I have way to many body sprays, perfumes, lotions, flowers/plants, etc just because I have a tendency to collect nice smelling things 😅😂

• Saving small trinkets and tickets and pictures and things from moments, travels, random usual moment or moments I want to remember in general

• Polariods, or just pictures in general on paper, it’s just nicer and more special/authentic than something in your phone

• Large old fashioned libraries, or walking around bookshops

• Cute small towns with funnily named drinking beverages, ice cream places, antique stores with cool, funny, pretty, weird things

I may have gone a bit past five ok bye

@a-burrito-named-brainy this is really cute thank you 🧸

#studycrim #a-burrito-named-brainy #happiness #my happy

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tabloidtoc · 4 years

Text

National Enquirer, May 25

Cover: China Lied About Where COVID-19 Started

Page 2: Duane “Dog” Chapman got engaged so a new ladylove Francie Frane just ten months after the cancer death of his beloved wife Beth but pals fear they are rushing their romance and want him to get a prenup

Page 3: Spooked Jennifer Aniston is worried sick about Matthew Perry especially now that it’s over with galpal Molly Hurwitz who kept him on the straight and narrow

Page 4: Scott Disick bolted from rehab after a week when photos of him there went public and pals are worried he could be back on the booze but his lawyer said Scott wanted help for past traumas and that the rehab visit had nothing to do with cocaine or alcohol

Page 5: Secret police files in the Natalee Holloway investigation have surfaced on the 15th anniversary of her disappearance in Aruba and suggest how Joran van der Sloot and two pals cheated justice with the help of corrupt lawmen on the Caribbean island

Page 6: Frantic Meghan Markle using magic to regain mojo -- New Age Meghan is warding off negative vibes with “evil eye” pendants but the duchess’ war against bad vibes hasn’t been working and may have even had to opposite effect as her lawsuit involving her father Thomas Markle isn’t going her way and her highly anticipated Disney debut in Elephant was panned by critics and husband Prince Harry is openly homesick

Page 7: Celebrity Cov-Idiot of the Week -- Madonna decided she would make light of the vicious coronavirus after finding she may be immune

Page 8: New dad Anderson Cooper is raising his newborn son with ex-boyfriend Ben Maisani and there may be wedding bells in their future

Page 9: NBC News has been thrown into turmoil as allegations of sexual misconduct and potential cover-ups by network bigwigs are reportedly under investigation in a probe conducted by the New York Attorney General -- Matt Lauer, Tom Brokaw, Andrew Lack and Chris Matthews were among multiple high-profile names whose behavior was under scrutiny

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Sarah Silverman, Robert Downey Jr. getting into his purple pickup truck to meet up with a friend for a socially distant bike ride, Princess Charlotte, Ashley Greene and husband Paul Khoury in their Vanderhall Venice sports car

Page 11: Grieving widow Vanessa Bryant made a heartbreaking discovery the day before her 38th birthday -- a final love letter from her late husband Kobe Bryant, Margot Robbie and Scarlett Johansson are duking it out for the role of Tinker Bell in the upcoming Peter Pan movie -- Scarlett has been relentlessly trash-talking Margot and vice versa as they’ve fought over a few other roles over the years and this is pushing their dislike of each other to a whole new level

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Pierce Brosnan in the shade in Hawaii, by the end of filming Will & Grace the feud between Debra Messing and Megan Mullally was a war and the two women will never speak to each other again, Anna Wintour was slammed by former right-hand man Andre Leon Talley and now other associates are adding their two cents, outspoken Elisabeth Hasselbeck is considering a return to The View if she can get past Meghan McCain who loves being the daytime show’s solo conservative voice

Page 13: Reese Witherspoon revealed that she and co-star Laura Dern are dying for an eventual third season of Big Little Lies and that Jennifer Lopez and Ice Cube are tops on their wish list of actors they would love to join the scheming Monterey Five, Kevin Spacey is whining that the past three years of his life have been a living hell, stick-skinny Renee Zellweger is putting her life on the line with an extreme 500-calorie-a-day diet and she’s deluded herself into thinking she’s in the best shape of her life but friends are begging her to eat more and exercise less

Page 14: True Crime

Page 15: Roy Horn is on the road to a miraculous recovery after cheating death twice (OOPS!)

Page 16: Real Life

Page 18: Hollywood Head Cases -- balding stars’ best and worst cover-ups -- Jamie Foxx, Ben Affleck, John Travolta, Jude Law

Page 19: Guy Ritchie, Elon Musk, Kevin Costner, Matthew McConaughey

Page 20: Health Watch

Page 24: Ford Dynasty Heirs at War over $350M -- ailing brain-addled heiress Kathleen DuRoss Ford is caught in the middle of a no-holds-barred legal battle over auto tycoon Henry Ford II’s $350 million family trust

Page 27: Denise Richards is mired in a pandemic meltdown believing that she and holistic healer husband Aaron Phypers have been marked for death by U.S. government agents following her and Aaron because of his alternative medical practices, Carmen Electra is plotting to bust a business move by reclaiming her pinup past and launching her own porn site -- she’s back in the spotlight after baring all about her raunchy relationship and nine-day marriage to Chicago Bulls superstar Dennis Rodman in the hoops docuseries Last Dance

Page 28: Jacqueline Kennedy and second husband Aristotle Onassis got injections of methamphetamine to boost their lovemaking according to a blockbuster new book but it was her first husband President John F. Kennedy who introduced her to the highly addictive drug

Page 29: How to cut your hair

Page 30: Cover Story -- China’s Deadly Web of COVID Lies -- Beijing hid where outbreak began, how virus spread and refused key help for vaccine

Page 32: Tom Brady is ready to tackle the next phase of his career with a new team -- the Tampa Bay Buccaneers -- and tackle his marriage by having a new baby and being in Florida has been like a second honeymoon with wife Gisele Bundchen with the power couple working overtime to add a tiny new player to their home team, Hollywood Hookups -- Kylie Jenner and Travis Scott back together, Ashlee Simpson and Evan Ross expecting, Dwight Yoakum and Emily Joyce wed

Page 36: Bar Rescue star Jon Taffer has called upon lawyers to rescue him on more than one occasion -- Taffer faced assault and discrimination suits and though he settled his cases out of court they could damage his career

Page 38: Jeremy Renner is hitting the pause button on his acting career and his party-animal ways in a desperate attempt to reconnect with his seven-year-old daughter Ava -- Renner is fighting a custody battle with ex-wife Sonni Pacheco and his life’s been hell from all the fighting between him and Sonni and he wants to show Sonni and the courts where his priorities are and he wants to prove he can be a superdad, the hits keep coming in the ugly $2 million lawsuit over Tiffany Haddish’s best-selling book in which she claims her ex-husband William Stewart was an abusive stalker -- according to new court documents filed in the case Stewart alleged Haddish defamed him and damaged his good reputation to boost up the sale of her 2017 memoir but Haddish’s lawyer claims she’s got the #MeToo movement on her side

Page 42: Red Carpet Stars & Stumbles -- Laura Dern’s winning looks

Page 47: Odd List

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areiton · 5 years

Text

cryptic words

This got longer than I expected so here’s an AO3 link

~*~

First words. That's what you get--the first words from the one person the universe says is perfect for you. Most people are born with them, or get them shortly after they're born. A tiny percentage of the population gets them years later.

But everyone gets their words.

By eighteen, Tony started to think maybe that was wrong. By twenty five, he knew it. And by the time he was thirty, he didn't care .

Not about the pitying looks from his endless string of lovers, not about the way the media tacked his Wordless state onto his eccentricities. Not about the gaping loneliness in his gut and the echoes of his father's voice, telling him no one would ever love him. Not about the lovers who leave him as they find their own soulmates.

He didn't care.

It hurt less, to not care.

~*~

When he's thirty-two, he wakes up and sees messy black scrawled across his shoulder, dipping toward his clavicle and he scrambles to the mirror, almost dumping his bedmate on her ass as he does.

It's there.

Jesus fuck. He has a soulmate and it's a baby but--he has a soulmate.

~*~

It's messy, thin scrawling lines, delicate as spider silk, and--

He blinks.

Bite me, tincan.

Promising start, really.

~*~

When his convoy gets bombed, Tony has a lot of regrets. But the one that rings loudest is, I haven’t met them yet.

He wants that. It’s been three years since his Words appeared, and he hasn’t told anyone but Rhodey, but they’re precious, they’re a promise he holds close when the world is too dark for him to handle.

He feels the heat of the flames, can smell the blood and gasoline on the air and terror so thick it’s choking and thinks, not yet. Please, not yet.

~*~

He doesn't die.

As they torture him, he wishes he would. That he could . But he doesn't die. And when he's tossed back in his cell, he clings to that cryptic line on his shoulder, clings to it like a promise.

~*~

It's not a promise. Plenty of people die without meeting the Soulmate, without ever hearing their Words.

But Tony lived thirty two years without his and he refuses to die like this, refuses to let the words scrawled on his five year old Mate's skin turn white.

He lives because for once in his life, he has something he has to live for.

~*~

When he first puts on the suit in that cave, and uses it to walk out--

He understands, maybe. Maybe. What that damn sentence scrawled on his shoulder means.

~*~

He builds more. Sometimes, when he’s working on a new suit, and Pepper is watching him with apprehensive caution, when Rhodey looks at him in quiet sympathy--he doesn’t know if he’s building the suit because he needs to for Stark Industries and the world--or if he’s doing it because if he does, if he builds enough suits, and walks in front of enough people, maybe one day, someone will shout at him and he won’t be so goddamn lonely.

~*~

It doesn’t happen. It never happens. He tries to believe that it’s just because his soulmate is young--god so young, so impossible--tries to find something that means anything with Pepper. The world gets threatened, again and again, and he...he doesn’t stop hoping , so much as he becomes resigned to it.

He’s forty eight, and has lived with his soulmark for sixteen years, lived without one for most of his life, and living without a soulmate might be lonely--but it’s all he’s ever known.

~*~

Tony sees the kid flipping his way through narrow streets and impossibly tall buildings on his way to a meeting Pepper will be furious if he misses.

He sees the kid, an instant before he cuts through the red and blue blur’s arc, and tangles himself up in sticky thin wire.

The kid shrieks, plunging as his--jesus this is webbing-- gets cut, and Tony curses as he plunges after him, catching him by the ankle as the kid shoots that webbing and flings himself up and away from Tony.

“Are you an idiot or do you have a death wish?” he bursts out, frustrated.

The kid jerks on his web, head twisting to stare at Tony and then--

“Bite me, tincan!”

Tony’s heart does this weird thing that makes FRIDAY snap his name in alarm, and he loses a good fifteen feet of altitude and when he looks around--

The kid is gone.

~*~

He’s late for his meeting, and his hands are shaking so bad throughout it that Pepper cuts it short and drags him to her office, shoving a cup of juice in his hand while she peers at him worriedly. “Hey. Talk to me, Tony.”

“I found him,” he says, lips numb. “I--Pepper, I found him.”

She’s staring at him, her eyes wide and soft and he can’t stop shaking . “Where is he?” she asks, gently, and he thinks about it again, that split second exchange in the air above New York.

Of the biting anger and the impossibly young voice snarling at him.

“He took off. God--Pep, I have no idea who he is.”

~*~

The thing is--he does know. He knows who Spiderman is because he’s been keeping tabs on the kid. A masked vigilante, even one that likes helping little old ladies cross the street and rescue stray cats, in his city, in the shadow of his tower, of course Tony was keeping tabs on him.

He knows exactly who and where to find his soulmate.

~*~

“When are you going to meet him?” Pepper asks, one day almost a month later. Tony shrugs. There’s been time. He had one quick trip to MIT for a speech, one run to a UN meeting that turned into a shit show that he was able to get away from--if Cap and his soulmate wanted to go on the run, international law protected Steve from turning on Bucky, and he wasn’t going to get in their way. It wouldn’t do any good and he had other things on his mind.

“Why haven’t you brought him here?” she asks, gently.

“He’s a kid, Pepper,” he says, helplessly, like that is enough.

Unfortunately, it is.

~*~

The tower is dark, when he lands on the balcony. The remaining Avengers are in the compound upstate and the tower is still his, but it’s just a matter of time before they sell it. But it’s his and the alarms sounded, routed directly to him--and here he is. Standing on a dark balcony, staring at a kid.

Peter Parker, pale and beautiful, with big brown eyes and messy curls and a tight lean body under his suit--he’s wearing the new one, the one he’d had delivered last week.

“You didn’t come after me,” Peter says, softly, his voice high and sweet and Tony steps out of the suit, onto the balcony and closer to him. “I--I know--I’m not what you want--b-b-but,--”

Tony growls and reaches out, because he fucked up, he fucked up he got it wrong, and this kid, he’s---

He’s in Tony’s arms, coming to rest against his chest with a choked off little noise, almost of relief, and all the tension Tony didn’t know he’d been carrying just...melts.

Drops away like cut strings.

“Kid,” Tony whispers into soft soft curls. “You’re the only thing I want.”

Peter makes a quiet, hurt noise against him and Tony’s arms tighten around him.

He doesn’t ever want to let go, doesn’t want to ever not feel the solid weight of his boy in his arms, doesn’t want to live without the warmth of Peter pressed against his chest.

He has no idea how he lived this long without it, but there are words. Three impossible first words that got shouted at him over the streets of Queens, that kept him alive in the desert and all the long years since.

He holds his boy and for the first time in his life, he doesn’t feel alone.

#arei writes fic #starker fic #starker #tony stark #peter parker #soulmates au

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lilcutieana · 6 years

Text

Safe Haven ~ ( Hybrid baby bangtan)

Words: 3.4K Genre: Hybrid! BTS AU Rating: PG

Request: Can I get a bts scenario where the reader adopts hybrid bts when they're little( like jin being 8 and jungkook being around and if it's not too much to ask can you make jin a fox, namjoon a wolf, yoongi a black panther, J-hope a dog, taehyung a tiger, jimin a kitty, and jungkook a bunny thank you

By @bluemooncnblue

Safe Haven ~ || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven

═══════ ⋆★⋆ ════════

My thumbs played around and fought with each other on my lap as I sat on the unmade bed, at 3 am no less, as Sumin stood there glaring at me for not being cooperative. Well, not my fault. None at all. It was three freaking am. And she expected me to take in seven snotty brats? Yeah, right. I couldn't even care for myself.

Somin sighed again as I refused to maintain eye contact and chose to stare at my twiddling thumbs instead. "Y/N please, they're too young to be sent to an orphanage. You know how they're run. Just foster those for a few months is all I'm asking. If they're too troublesome, I'd take them back in a heartbeat. Promise." she whispered kneeling on the floor, as if she was trying not to wake the neighbors.

I scoffed. As if.

I lived in a cottage of my own that I bought and renovated myself. Yes, I was an interior designer and worked from home. That was no good reason to dump seven kids on me, and not just humans--- hybrid kids--- of different breeds. I have nothing against hybrids, if anything, three out of my four friends were hybrids themselves. But each breed had their own quirks and living standards. Getting used to one was a lifetime investment in itself, but seven? God bless my soul, this girl might just sign it to the devil himself.

I was startled at the creak of my bedroom door and in tumbled four kids through it, tangled up tails and ears pulled back. Don't tell me she....

"You brought them here already? Just--- just how confident are you in your negotiating skills?" I looked at her horrified. All this time we were arguing about these innocent little kids, they were right there--- listening in on us. I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. I didn't need this, not right now. Not when I had so many projects piled up to be completed and creativity had all but vaporized through my thicker than coconut skull.

Sumin chuckled from beside my bed, a wide grin spread across her lips and eyes dancing in amusment, "Quite the merry bunch, aren't they?"

"Don't get me started", I scowled at her Cheshire cat grin that seemed to grow at my expense. She will regret it. I was just holding back on the violence because there were four kids staring at me like a dinosaur fossil displayed at the museum.

"Okay, okay, calm down. Look, I understand you being cranky right now, but just let them stay tonight-- or the rest of tonight-- and let's talk tomorrow morning, when you're more, um, awake, I guess?" She looked at me with rounded puppy eyes that spoke of absolute empathy but I knew her better. She only wanted to dump it all on me for the better good. God, I really hated her guts right now.

The kids were all huddled up together, eyes blown wide, ears pulled and tails bristling. This was just the cherry on top I needed. A bunch of little devils who hated me as much as I hated Sumin right about now. Taking a deep breath, I steeled my heart. I had volunteered at a hybrid disabled children school, I wonder what could possibly go wrong here?

The tallest had absolute white, long ears with black tips along with white fluffy tail and in his arms was a tiny hybrid sucking on his thumb with long grey bunny ears. Next to them were two chubby orange eared hybrids- one was striped and the other wasn't. This was going to be hard.

"Look Sumin, while I appreciate you seeking me for help. I don't appreciate you dumping your responsibility onto me. If you chose to rescue them, be their guardian, be the saint-- then do it, I'll even help, but, don't just decide to take responsibility and then dump it all on me. I might be kind but I'm no pushover." I glared at her, breathing heavily. My heart was hurting and eyes stinging from anger, even my stomach felt queazy. It was too early for this.

"B-but I thought you'd be happy to have pets and in case you don't really do, I could always look for someone else and--" she was rambling while making circles around the room, scaring the kids further. Three other peeked around the door, ready to fight with sharpened pencils in hands.

"Get out. This is the last straw Sumin. I'm done. Don't talk to me unless I call you myself. If you can't be responsible for the kids yourself, then I will. But this is the last favor, the very last. Don't ever--- and I really mean, ever--- talk to us again. I won't have these innocent kids go from one house to another just because you 'thought' you were being a saint saving them and dumping them on me." Marching forward, I opened the bedroom door wider earning a yelp from the closest hybrid with grey ears and gestured for her to leave.

Sniffing, she glared back at me and picking up her handbag she had dumped on my bed, she left through the door with a backward flip of her hair that hit my face and got into my eyes. That hurt. But it was worth the pain. Ever since I knew her since high school she had been taking me for granted and kept using me to look good in society. I had just about enough of her. Good riddance. Smiling softly, I ushered the kids inside and. closed the door behind them, locking it for good measure.

Oh shit! I had totally forgotten to get my keys from her. Knowing her, she'd pull another stunt just to spite me. I'll just have to change the lock tomorrow morning before she can. Just another thing to the million others I'm about to get into. Just why do I let my anger drive me to do things?

"Okay kids, I don't understand what you're feeling, what you're going through or what you need from me." I started and saw as they held onto each other tighter and I decided, that looking down on them wouldn't really work in my favor. If I needed their trust and cooperation, I needed to be on their level and not intimidating.

Crouching down, I tried smiling, "I'm sorry for raising my voice like that. Just stay here until tomorrow and then I'll take you to the shelter, lab and orphanage. You get to choose what you want and where you want to stay. I won't decide things for you. I want you to have your choice in what happens in your lives." At their blank stare I sighed and tried again.

"I'm Y/N and I design homes for people from my own home, meaning, I'll be staying inside all day long. Do you need anything now before going to bed?" I asked in a hushed voice, knowing their hearing abilities were strong and they'd pick up even the tiniest of sounds. Privacy was going to be a huge issue in this house. They looked up at me confused while the tallest nodded in understanding and shook his head.

"No, we will be fine Ms. Y/N. Just some warm milk for Jungkookie." He gestured at the kid now dozing off in his arms. Nodding in silence, I stared at them a bit longer.

They wore clothes that looked old and torn at the edges. Faces dirty and body scrawny. I wonder what happened for these kids of a different breed to stick together and seek shelter in a completely different place. "And you are?" I asked curiously, I needed to know before letting them stay here. While they looked innocent and well behaved, I doubted they really were.

His eyes lit up like Christmas lights and he bounced on the balls of his feet, “I’m Seokjin, a marble Fox. This here is Jungkook --- a bunny." Nudging the striped kid from beside him, he jerked his head towards me.

The kid's hands shook until he clasped them together in front of him and spoke in soft voice, “I’m Taehyung, a tiger and that's Jimin, a ginger cat, we are both five". And he raised his hand in the air showing all five fingers and a brilliant smile that revealed missing teeth in the front. Cute. Jimin looked shy and abashed, hiding behind Taehyung the tiger. I would have to come up with ways to involve him in more things to regain his confidence again. As my gaze traveled to the three intimidating figures standing behind, I noticed they only looked big and strong. But their eyes spoke of a kind heart and scared, shattered soul. I would protect them with my life if I had to. They deserved better.

"And you are?" I asked, my head tilting to the side.

"Yoongi, seven, Black Jaguar"

"Namjoon, six, grey wolf"

"Hoseok, six, Akita puppy"

"Yah! Are we all telling ages too? I'm seven! I'll no longer be just a kid anymore." Soekjin declared proudly, holding Jungkook delicately in his arms as he napped on his little shoulders. My heart clenched at the sight and beat faster. Wherever they chose to stay, I'll always make sure they have everything they will ever need.

"Good! Now that I know your names, it will take some time for me to get used to those and learn them all." I mused thoughtfully. "So....who wants some hot cocoa before bed?" A chorus of 'me too' and 'me first' was heard with lots of giggling and smiles. They were warming up. Sighing softly, I padded to the kitchen area followed by six little ducklings waddling behind.

“Okay everyone where would you like to sleep in? I have three extra beds—in a room, you could use that. They should be big enough for now. Or would you like to stay in my room?”

They looked frozen as if I had given them a herculean task. Well, I suppose making choices isn’t quite the easy task with a stranger.

“Can we see the rooms first?” The kitten piped up from behind the panther. Guess being in same species made them closer than rest of the group.

“Okay, sure. Let’s bathe and change first, have some hot cocoa and then we can decide.” Declaring proudly, I nodded to myself. I wonder if they can bathe themselves. Well, if not, I can help them a bit.

"Good good. We can build a fort in here and all sleep together until late in the morning. Let's see if we have enough food first" Walking further into the kitchen, I opened the pantry and took out eight hot cocoa powder satchels along with a bag of marshmallows. Picking up the heavy cookie jar from behind, I opened the lid and inhaled the wonderful chocolate aroma wafting from it.

"Here, why don't you share these cookies among yourselves while I get the bath ready?" Keeping the jar on the counter opened, I let the kids handle them and went to get the bath water ready. My bathroom wasn’t large enough for all of them, but at least three of them could bathe at the same time. Filling the white bathtub with warm water, I added some bubble bath liquid to it to make it foam and set out all the towels I had.

Hmm… what else?

Oh!

Setting out body wash, lotion, brush and hair drier, I nodded to myself satisfied. There, that should do it.

Walking out of the bath I was surprised at how quiet the house was and jogged my way to the kitchen to see them nibbling on cookies silently while leaning on one another. I wonder if they were too tired to do anything. The hybrids I was used to were always energetic, no matter the time.

“Time for bath everyone! Come, let’s get going” at my voice they all jumped up, wiping their hands on their clothes and ran towards me.

“Me first! I want to bathe first!” The dog hybrid jumped around on the balls of his feet and I ruffled his hair which was unsurprisingly sticky to the touch. They could always shampoo it tomorrow, I didn’t want any of them to catch a cold. Padding our way across the room to the right, we entered the bathroom together.

“Here’s the towels. Two of you need to bathe together in this water with the body wash here. Is the scent mild enough? The water warm enough?” Seokjin, the fox hybrid, came closer and sniffed at the bottle, “Yeah! It’s perfect, smells like cinnamon rolls”

“Oh…That’s the vanilla scent. Well then, this should work for now.”

“The water’s fine. We haven’t had warm water in so long.” Namjoon muttered from beside me. Wherever they were, I hoped they didn’t end up someplace like that ever again.

“Call for me once you’re done. I’ll set some clothes out for you all and prepare some hot cocoa” A collective ‘Thank you Y/N’ echoed in the bathroom and I couldn’t feel any more proud and awake. All my sleepiness had vanished in thin air.

~*~

All bathed, dried and dressed up in my old clothes; the hybrids looked absolutely adorable and so ethereal. They had the softest of skin and shiniest of tails. Even their hair and ears looked so soft and fluffy.

The bathing was fine with everyone else but I had to help when it came to Jungkook. He was sleepy, hungry and cranky, so we did it as fast as was possible. The bubbles did help distract him while we scrubbed the soot off his skin and Jimin told me why they were in the state that I had found them in.

It was Namjoon whose owners had died in an accident and he had ran away to the woods and after about a few days he found an abandoned cabin at the edge of the woods and started living in it. The others had stories of their own, but nobody discussed them openly. Namjoon had saved everyone else and brought them to the shed. They all stole to get food and other things until one day when there was a fire in the store they went to and all of them were brought straight to the hospital after surviving the fire and Sumin was the nurse in the hospital who thought it a brilliant idea to bring them to her, which, it was, according to Jimin. He did say he liked me and that I was the nicest human he ever met, whatever that meant.

After the bath and drying up, we had all drank some hot cocoa while Jungkook had his warm milk and fell asleep instantly in my arms. And, now, we were all preparing a huge blanket fort in the middle of the living room.

This was going to be a huge laundry to clean up, but I bet it was worth the effort. These boys were worth so much more.

"Wow, this looks so amazing! Like a real fort. Does that make me snow white with you seven little dwarfs, or.... maybe seven princes?" I asked teasingly and they all giggled bashfully.

"I'm the Prince of this kingdom and everyone else is a dwarf." Soekjin smiled proudly with his hands fisted on both sides of his waist. He truly looked like a Prince.

"How about seven princes then and the servant. I would surely help you with all the tasks for tonight and every other day. Now, then, it's time for Princes to sleep so that they can get all the energy they need and be prepared for the next day-- all strong and fearless." Running around they all went into their separate pillows and I covered them up with soft blankets and bed sheets. I'll have to do a lot of shopping soon if they decided to stay. Turning off the lights, I turned around to get into bed at the middle but then two voices shrieked making me jump in fright too.

"What happened?"

"Oh, Jimin and Hoseok are scared of the dark, noona." A voice quipped from the side. Probably Taehyung or Namjoon as they slept on the edge. No wonder they screamed as soon as the lights were off. Turning the lights back on, I went in search of the fairy lights I had kept under my bed after Christmas party last year. Dusting it off, I was glad I hadn't tangled them up in a hurry and neatly packed them up instead. Opening the thread, I connected it to the extension cord and hung the lights around the 'ceiling' of our makeshift blanket fort. I was proud of the kids for making it so large and beautiful. Though clumsy, they were very dedicated and talented.

"What are those?" Jungkook asked from his position on Yoongi's side, curled up into a ball. Despite being a bunny, he seemed to like being around the panther. So, the panther really was a softie unlike how he portrayed himself to be.

"These are tiny lights that will keep the room from going completely dark." Nodding his head, he looked on in wonder as I adjusted the strong of lights to be hung properly around the room. Turning off the actual light, and turning on the fairy lights, I watched with bated breath as they cheered and looked like absolute angels under the soft glow of the pink and blue lights. As I crawled into the fort and squeezed in between Hoseok and Jimin, I felt their warmth seep into my skin and wished inside that this night lasted a bit longer than the rest. I haven't felt this needed, wanted or appreciated in a long while and slowly drifted off to sleep to the quiet purr from Jimin.

~¤~

"Hyung, I really don't want to leave here. She might get angry easily and is scary when angry, but she was angry for us. She defended us, fed us, and sacrificed her own bed for us too. I want to stay here with her."

.”Yeah! She's the best option we have."

"But what if she gets tired of us?"

"We will leave if that day comes."

Soft whispers filtered through my ears waking me up from my much needed sleep. Wait...who was in my house?

"We should probably clean the house a little bit. She did a lot for us, we should return the favor somehow."

Okay, I needed to be careful. They sounded like kids, probably came to steal food. But they were also talking about staying here.....What?

"And help her with house chores. We can do little things, all of us."

"Anyone who doesn't want to stay here? Wow, so we all agree she's the one?"

Turning on to the side, I opened one eye to see seven kids, no seven hybrid kids sitting in a circle inside a blanket fort. Then everything came to me all at once. My fight with my friend, taking in the kids, bathing them, brushing their hair and drying them, drinking hot cocoa with melted marshmallow and cookies and finally setting up the fairy lights.

"Good morning noona!" Two hybrids pounced on me from two sides, nuzzling into my neck softly nipping and licking with their rough tongues. Their hot breath with every exhale made me shiver and cuddle up close to them. Raising my hands, I ran my fingers through their soft hair and detangled them.

"Jimin, Yoongi, do you want to go later to look at other options to stay? Or would you prefer staying here?"

"Here, noona, you're part of our family now!" Jungkook exclaimed from beside me. Raising my head, I saw them all smiling down at me.

"Sure, we can be one big family!" Instead of loud cheers, I heard collective growls. And no, it wasn't them but their stomachs growling. Guess they were all hungry. Time to make breakfast and start the day. By the bright Sun outside, I could tell clearly, it was way past ten in the morning. I did sleep well cuddled up to the kids.

"Let's cook first, I'm hungry too. Who wants to help?"

"Me!" Taehyung jumped on my thighs and growled playfully at me earning glares from rest of the boys. Giggling softly, I ruffled up his hair and sat up, stretching my aching muscles.

"Let's get food, shower and plan what things to buy. We are going shopping today!"

This was my family now, and I couldn't ask for a better one.

Safe Haven ~ || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven

#bts hybrid au #hybrid bts au #bts #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungguk #bts one shot

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alkoshbignaturals · 3 years

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do you love her

#blue said lgbt rights #lgbts right to get bit by blue 😔#i love her and she loves her bandana #and both my wife and i hate her little puppy teeth ❤#anyway this is our baby her name is blue and i hand stamped her little brass tags #shes a rescue and a tiny less than five month old baby #she gets super high quality food and her tummy cant handle chicken so well #and right now shes in a phase where she talks back to her parents #but shes potty trained (and knows how to ring little bells to ask for potty time)#and when shes rested and full shes the sweetest doggy in the world and my wife and i love her so much #blue #OH and she loves m.arvel movies cause theyre colorful and brainless and make funny sounds #u know the same reason my adhd riddled ass loves them lmaoooooo

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mynameiseco · 6 years

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fitzsimmons fic (or what I hope WON’T happen in S6)

He has always imagined what it would look like, his kid’s room. It’s always been there, at the back of his mind, a blurred mixture of coloured walls and toys scattered around. And it’s so very different from this.

Fitz would have picked neutral colours: green, maybe yellow. Something soft, something warm. In his perfect picture, that he’s just now realizing he has had for years, his kid would have woken up embraced by the warmth of the sun and the smell of freshly baked pancakes.

A cottage, maybe. A swing in the backyard. A tree-house.

This – this anonymous, grey room - doesn’t fit in any way to his vision. It’s small, no windows, just a yellow light bulb hanging from the ceiling.

They’re sitting on a bed. Well, it hardly looks – and feels – like a bed. Jemma is silent, patiently waiting for Fitz to… what, exactly?

There’s so much she hasn’t told him yet, he’s been aware of that from the moment he spotted the necklace she’s wearing. She has made sure to hide it underneath her shirt three or four times in the last few hours, but when chubby hands begin to play with the silver chain, he manages to catch what looks like a ring. A small one, but not small enough for her fingers. Jemma immediately hides it again, an intelligible expression in her eyes. Fitz could swear it’s a mixture of guilt and panic.

Something tells him he shouldn’t ask about it, not now. So he doesn’t.

“She knows you.”

Jemma breaks the silence, her voice perhaps a little higher than intended. Fitz frowns, waiting for her to continue.

“She knows you. That’s why she’s not making a fuss. She tends to do that with strangers.” She explains, playing with her daughter’s curls.

“Can’t say it’s a bad thing.”

She smiles. Fitz knows all her smiles by heart. This is a sad one, the one she forces when all she wants to do, really, is curl up in a ball and cry. Fitz dares to brush the hem of his daughter’s pyjamas. It has monkeys printed on it. The hint of a smile appears on his face.

His daughter. Technically, not his. Did his other-self know what – whom – he was leaving behind?

He doesn’t dare to ask. He feels trapped, it’s as if he’s walking through a labyrinth of questions. Some, he wants to ask. Some, he doesn’t know if he can ask.

“I showed her pictures.”

She lowers her eyes, unconsciously playing with the baby’s hands. It’s when said baby starts to pat her little hands on her mother’s ones that Jemma clears her throat and goes on.

“And some videos.”

One, specifically.

Truthfully, those times Jemma just wanted to relive that happy, elusive fragment of her life. She kept telling herself it was for their daughter, for her to get familiar with Fitz; his eyes, his voice, his face. But every time she laid down, her baby cuddled against her chest, every time the video started playing, she ended up choking back tears.

“Just to make sure she would get used to your voice, too.”

Not that Fitz has talked much since he’s woken up. Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t even said a word since Jemma awkwardly introduced him to the tiny human who’s so curiously looking at him right now.

It’s been less than an hour and he’s already the worst father ever. A familiar, disgusting voice rings in his ears. Fitz flinches. Not now. Even as he shuts his eyes, he feels Jemma stiffen next to him.

Is she scared? Did he scare her?

“What is it, Fitz?” she asks.

He slowly opens his eyes and considers answering. It’s nothing. These two words are already on the tip of his tongue. But they’re a lie, and he doesn’t want his first words in front of his daughter to be a lie. She wouldn’t remember, but he would.

So Fitz simply reaches for Jemma’s hand and traces slow circles on her skin. He looks at her and forces a smile.

Later, she’ll tell him what his other-self did. Later, she’ll make him promise to tell her if he hears his voice. Later, he’ll hate himself for what he has done and yet hasn’t really done.

Jemma knows it’s a bit selfish, but she doesn't want him to feel like a monster, not now, not when he’s meeting their daughter for the first time. He’s already terrified enough, he doesn’t need to know. So, yes, later she’ll tell him all about it: the wedding, the Doctor, Daisy, Deke.

Fitz is already worryingly silent now, and he doesn’t even know what his other-self did. If he did, he wouldn’t even allow himself to breathe next to them. He would feel too heavy, as if he took up too much space.

Space he doesn’t deserve. Space that isn’t meant for him, not anymore. Space that is too much and too little all the same.

Fitz clears his throat. He slowly stretches his hand in the baby’s direction and she doesn’t hesitate to wrap her little fingers around her father’s calloused ones. It’s crazy, how much strength that tiny gesture gives him.

Fitz tries to speak, but his attempts turns into a feeble string of sounds. He suddenly realizes how dry his mouth is. He swallows and tries again.

His daughter looks at him, almost… patiently, as if she knew that he’s about to speak, to say something. To her, specifically. She’s already smarter than she’s supposed to be, and Fitz thinks that it might just be him being an already too proud father, highlighting every little thing as if his kid was some sort of prodigy. But, truth to be told, he doesn’t care.

“It hasn’t even been half an hour and your daddy is already messing everything up.” He finally confesses his lips barely curving in a sad smile.

She has perfectly rounded rosy cheeks, a small nose he sincerely hopes won’t look like his own, big, piercing and inquisitive hazel eyes, questioning and studying everything around her, him included.

He already feels responsible of her and, at the same time, not enough. What is a good father supposed to do? What is he supposed to be? It’s not as if he had a good model to look up to.

He certainly knows what a good father is not supposed to do. He knows, when his daughter unexpectedly throws her little arms at him, that a good father would never let his kid hang in there, with their arms waving around. So, despite the voices telling him that he’s not going to be careful enough – you’ll just drop her or hold her too tight – he shyly extends his arms.

He looks at Jemma with pleading eyes, as if asking for her permission. She nods because of course, of course he can hold their daughter. Of course he can stand up and toss her around and make her laugh, exactly as she has imagined all this time.

The fact that he even needs to ask breaks her heart.

As soon as the baby manages to disentangle herself from her mother’s hold, she launches herself into her father’s arms with enthusiasm, much to Fitz’s surprise. Jemma, on the other hand, doesn’t look surprised at all. The image of her – their – baby peacefully sleeping wrapped in Fitz’s cardigans is still burned into her memory.

“She’s already found her favourite spot.” Jemma whispers.

Their baby girl is curled up against Fitz’s chest, his hand supporting her back. Jemma fights back the tears blurring her vision. Fitz is barely grazing their baby’s monkey-covered back, as if he fears he could somehow break her if he just held a little bit too tight. It shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t be petrified. Jemma is pretty sure he’s even trying not to breathe too much.

“You know” she says, pressing her lips in a thin line “she’s not going to break. Or disappear.”

Her voice breaks around the last word, her lips trembling while she attempts to mould them in an encouraging smile.

Fitz looks up at her, eyes shining with tears. Beneath the doubts and the guilt and the million fears building up inside him, she can see a glimpse of hope. However weak and imperceptible it is, she desperately clings to it.

“She’s actually pretty strong. You’ll see when she starts pulling at your hair like a wild little monkey.”

The baby, no, Primrose… Fitz is tired of mentally referring at her as ‘the baby’. Her name is Primrose, like the flowers Jemma loved to collect as a child. She’s nine months old, she’s a real person, flesh and bone miraculously created by their love.

Just in time, he thinks. Just in time. Just after his other-self rescued Jemma in space. Just before he died, leaving her with nothing more than a framed picture, a ring, some clothes and her.

“Quite the miracle you are, little monkey.”

He carefully lifts his daughter and presses a soft kiss to her forehead. She wrinkles her little nose and giggles. Fitz can’t physically look away from her. He gently lowers her so that she can sit on his lap and grasps her little fist, delicately unfolding it. Her fingers splay against his hand as they both cautiously observe the strange, fascinating image in front of them.

Fitz caresses them with his free hand as he counts in his head. Five perfectly shaped fingers.

She has two ears, two eyes, ten toes, ten fingers, the smallest nose he’s ever seen and unruly red curls. She has everything an ordinary human being is supposed to have, she’s a completely ordinary baby, but also the perfect combination of all their best parts.

Fitz has almost drowned, travelled through space and time, faced inhumans and aliens and creatures who made him question the law of physics. He’s seen it all and came up with rational explanations for pretty much everything. Yet he finds himself unable to explain her.

“I did the same.” Jemma reassures him.

Her voice seems so far.

“Counted her fingers and toes. Made sure she got everything in the right place.”

Fitz lifts his gaze to meet hers.

“It’s not as if she would have disappeared.” He replies playfully.

Jemma immediately lowers her head. Not exactly the reaction he has hoped for. Stupid, stupid Fitz. He just thought it would help break the ice, make things feel normal again, except it’s not working, at all. It occurs to him now how small she looks in her oversized jumper. His jumper. She hugs herself, eyes still fixated on the bedspread.

“Well, you did.” She lifts her shoulders and bites her lower lip. “Disappear, I mean. You did.”

She feels like she might explode any minute now as burning tears prick her eyes. She has mastered, over the years, the ability to hold back an impressing amount of tears, but there’s only so much she can take. And maybe her eyes are too small and the tears too many and it just… stops working. She collapses under the weight of sleepless nights, silent breakdowns, hands following her baby’s movements underneath her skin, her hands which were supposed to be covered and guided and followed by his, except they weren’t. All the times she woke up, hoping it was all just a nightmare, just to find the mattress next to her cold and empty. All the times she had to disentangle their picture from Primrose’s hands as soon as she fell asleep, her heart aching at the sight of their daughter curling up even more in his stupid old patched up cardings which inexplicably still smelled like him. That one time she felt the worst mother ever for even thinking of stealing one specific cardigan from her daughter’s hold. Because it was her favourite, because it was the last one he had ever worn as far as she could remember.

She’s sobbing and awkwardly trying to brush away the tears as new ones pool in her eyes and she curses her lack of self-control and her terrible timing and her weakness and she’s not one-hundred-percent aware of her surroundings, but she’s pretty sure the mattress just shifted a little.

Primrose mumbles something quite impossible to decipher and Fitz looks down at her, while he shifts her to his other arm so that he can get closer to Jemma.

“It’s alright.” He says in the most soothing voice he can manage. “Mummy is just upset. And rightly so.” He explains, though he’s not sure their little one can actually grasp such a concept.

He slowly wraps his left arm around Jemma’s shoulders. They’re still shaking and he’s genuinely afraid she might break under the violence of her sobs.

He guides her head against his shoulder and patiently wait for her to settle as the sobs finally subside.

“‘Cause, you see, little monkey,” he continues, as if he’s revealing some ancient secret, “mummy always tells daddy he shouldn’t risk his life, but he never listens and –” his voice breaks, his tongue tastes like sawdust.

It’s then that Jemma begins to gently stroke his arm. It’s such a simple gesture, something he had almost given for granted at some point in their relationship, but it’s so welcomed now.

“ – and daddy is so sorry he left you both behind.” He finishes, tears streaming down his face.

It must be such an interesting sight for their baby girl, who’s now patting his wet cheeks and babbling at him. Under different circumstances, he would laugh at his baby carrying on a babbling nonsensical monologue, but all he can do now is brush his lips against her head and exhale heavily.

Next to him, Jemma flips her legs over his lap and shifts as close to him as she can. She’s now gripping his arm, maybe a little too tight, her head resting against it. But he lets her.

“I’m sorry.”

He says these words once, twice, so many times Jemma is losing count, until she decides it’s enough.

She slowly leans back and touches his cheek, guiding his eyes to hers.

They’re red-rimmed and oh so tired, but they’re the same shade of blue she remembers. They’re kind and soft and full of love. They’ve witnessed so much, yet not everything. They’ve missed fragments of their life she’s willing to keep for the both of them. But they will see and treasure and remember so much more.

She smiles at him and, for the first time tonight, it’s not forced.

“I’m sorry.” He mouths again.

“I know.” She simply replies.

Jemma plants a soft kiss on his shoulder and he automatically relaxes. He nods to himself.

I’m never leaving you again. I’m never leaving you again. I’m never-

He knows better not to do promises he can’t keep. Something tells him his other-self did the same. He has done the same, so many times. He promised her he would come back from Maveth and he did. He has been lucky. His other-self, not so much.

So he just presses a kiss on her head, drawing her closer to his chest with his left arm.

And he hopes it’s enough. He really hopes he’s enough.

thanks to @lilsciencequeen for making sure this didn’t sound like a complete mess. ♥

#fitzsimmons #fs fanfictions #fitz x simmons #leo fitz #jemma simmons #i apologize for the heartbreaks #jedmo don't you dare to do something like this #you'll catch these hands

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jeremystrele · 4 years

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Comforting Words From Six Mums Who Know Best

Mothers Day

by Sasha Aarons

Courtney Adamo and family, captured by Kara Rosenlund.

Courtney adamo, bangalow, nsw

What have you learned from your Mum that remains with you today?

My Mum has never been a worrier. There has always been a lightness and a sense of optimism to the way she lives, which is something that has rubbed off on me. She’s also always been fastidious about good manners and good grammar. I know it seems silly, but I’m grateful for it now.

What is something you say to comfort your kids in tricky times?

There’s nothing specific I say. I think each kid and each circumstance calls for its own approach. Generally speaking though, I think it’s about being open to any of their questions, concerns or needs, then providing them with honesty, a sense of security, a familiar rhythm and a feeling of being held. We don’t have a TV and we don’t play live radio in the car, so they are spared the doom and gloom of the 24-hour news cycle. When times are tricky, we want to be their source of information, presenting it in a balanced way, with perspective, hope and positivity. I’m also a big believer in the restorative power of mother nature. Whenever we’re feeling down, whatever the reason, a trip to the beach or the woods brings us right back up.

What kind of world do you hope your children will inherit?

I hope our kids will inherit a world that is open and interconnected, with people and ideas moving freely for the benefit and equality of all. I hope for a world where we are conscious of our every imprint on the earth and we prioritise the planet’s need over our personal wants. And it would be awesome if self-driving electric cars were commonplace before they are old enough to drive!

What are you optimistic about right now?

My kids going back to school! Haha. Kidding (sort of). There’s a lot of bad happening in the world right now, and people are suffering in ways I can’t even comprehend, but I hope this collective pause has awakened in us a deeper sense of appreciation for what is most important. This is a historic event and unusual in that it is impacting virtually everyone on the planet in some way. I’m hopeful that moving forward, we will all be more conscious of how our actions, big and small, impact the planet and ourselves. I know we will not be returning to life as usual when it’s all over.

Is everything going to be okay?

I always like to think so! It is my personality (or perhaps a coping mechanism) to try to find the silver lining in every situation, even when things seem really challenging or depressing. I have five children — I have to think the future is bright!

Courtney Adamo is an author, entrepreneur and the co-founder of Babyccino Kids. She is also the mother to five children! Following the release of her first wildly popular e-course, Courtney has just this week released ‘In The Loop : Blossom‘, a 3-week e-course on pregnancy, birth and the first year. Check it out here!

Melbourne textile designer Cassie Byrnes with her gorgeous bub Lottie. Photo by Annika Kafcaloudis.

Cassie Byrnes, Melbourne, VIC

What’s something you learned from your Mum that remains with you today?

Definitely resilience. My Mum has had a pretty rough run in life, which is easy to forget because she is so warm and loving and just gets on with it (as Mums tend to do). In my older age (and since becoming a Mum) I now understand how difficult some of the setbacks must have been, and how she did totally amazing things while raising four kids.

What is something you tell your kids in tricky times?

Well, Lottie is only seven months old, so to her tricky times really just consist of trying to sit up in her sleeping bag or managing to grip on to her pear slices with her tiny slippery fingers…. so I just cheer her on like, ‘You can do it girl, get that pear!’.

What kind of world do you hope your children will inherit?

This is a very big question! For a couple of years I did have a few worries about bringing someone new into a world that I felt was changing for the worse in many ways. But, I was way too maternal to follow through with it, so I guess you win, hormones.

I think we also need to understand that while at this exact moment in time it might be hard to see through the gloom at big picture level, we are still in control of our well-being and destiny and have the chance to use this time to create the future we want.

Closer to home, I really just want her to feel like she can do and be anything she wants, and feel confident enough to find out what that is. If she can take on that spirit then I reckon she’s got a good shot at handling the world in whatever state it’s in when she grows up.

What are you optimistic about right now?

So much. That’s what the baby bubble will do to you! We have looked at this isolation time as something kind of special, one we will always look back on as a time when the three of us were home with each other 24/7, and Lottie has benefitted from so much attention from us! As I learn the ropes of Mum-hood I’m feeling more confident and nurturing than I’ve ever been, and a lot less stressed, because, well, who even has time to stress about anything anymore? If you put all the fears aside and just stop to look at this little human who is genuinely thrilled just to be a part of the world everyday, it’s hard not to feel the same way.

Is everything going to be okay?

One hundred percent. Yes there’s lots of people hurting now, and it’s sad to think there will be more of that to come. But you know, we owe it to them and ourselves to try and find the positivity in all this. I’ve seen neighbours and friends come together in amazing ways lately. My group chats, Mums groups, customers DMs and daggy Zoom trivia nights all help to remind me that it’s the people in your life that really make up your world, and as long as they’re still around of course everything is going to be ok. And if you ever feel like things won’t be, remember to reach out to someone.

Cassie Byrnes is a freelance textile + surface designer. You can shop her latest collection of designs here (and listen to Lucy’s chat with her on TDF Talks Podcast here!).

Curator and writer Hetti Kemerre Perkins with her daughter, actress Madeleine Madden. Photo – Alisha Gore.

Hetti Perkins, Sydney, nsw

What does Mother’s Day mean to you?

Mothering or being a mother or Mum means different things to different cultures and communities. For instance, in Arrernte ways you have a number of mothers, and the immediate responsibility to care for a child extends generationally to grandparents and others. Or there’s the ‘Paris is burning’ version of motherhood in the drag community epitomized by RuPaul Charles!

I have been called Mum ‘instinctively’ by some very young children who have come into my home just because they maybe needed a Band Aid and a hug, or were hungry and must have identified me as their best bet for getting those needs sorted! I am also called Mum by some adult kiddos who need the grown up version of a Band Aid or a hug!

As a parent and as a someone who is blessed to be called Mum by a number of people, it’s a day for being grateful for all my ‘children’ who trust me enough to love and be loved; and to be grateful to those people who have helped my kids grow up. So, it’s a day for taking time out to acknowledge all those people – regardless of their biological relationship or gender – who have grown you up.

What’s something you learned from your Mum that remains with you today?

My mum Eileen is awesome, and sometimes infuriating! Me and my kids call her Naughty Nanna and she still constantly surprises us with her tricks and unconventional ways! To this day, marrying my father was probably her best unconventional ‘trick’. My Arrernte and German grandmothers – who couldn’t have come from more ‘opposite’ sides of Australian society yet found common ground and an enduring respect and friendship – continue to inspire me. An early memory I have of my childhood in Alice Springs is Nanna Hetti’s fiercely loyal dog only deigning to also lay his head on Nanna Laura’s lap.

One thing that has stuck with me, was my Mum drilling me in the value of learning history to better understand our world and our place in it – and our responsibility to future generations.

What is something you tell your kids in times of hardship?

We’re all in this together and together we’ll get through it.

What are you optimistic about right now?

Last year we welcomed a little rescue kitten into our family on Mother’s Day. It’s been the gift that keeps on giving, watching Raven grow and flourish despite a hard start in life.

Otherwise it’s art, always! Artists of all genres and ages give me strength. Their creativity has a palpable effect on my mental and physical wellbeing. For instance, Hayley Mary’s brilliant EP ‘The Piss, the Perfume’ is on my high rotation playlist at the moment and I recommend it to any readers needing a dose of good medicine – or gift ideas!

What kind of world do you hope your children will inherit?

A common ground governed by the principle of the common good.

Is everything going to be okay?

It will be if we collectively keep our eye on the ball – and by ball I mean this big, beautiful globe we call home, Earth.

Hetti Kemerre Perkins is a curator and writer. Read our interview with her and her daughter, actress Madeleine Madden, here.

Designer Jenny Kee with her daughter, literary agent Grace Heifetz. Photo – Courtesy of Mimco.

Jenny Kee, Blackheath, NSW

What’s something you learned from your Mum that remains with you today?

Mum was always so incredibly generous and was a true giver, and I never think of her without thinking of her generosity. She was a fanatical cleaner and I have really inherited that trait – I loved this about her. It goes without saying that she had amazing style and was a natural fashionista, and we shared this love of clothes, design and style.

What is something you tell your kids in tricky times?

All things will pass.

What kind of world do you hope your children will inherit?

The Coronavirus has taught us to think more about our world and our environment. I hope that our children will inherit a simpler world, where our focus will be on the abundance of nature, where animals are not extinct, where the sky is blue and we hear the birds sing and our oceans and rivers run clean. A world where the environment is more important than the economy – a world where we live simply so others may simply live.

What are you optimistic about right now?

I am optimistic about my property that was ravaged by fires and the regeneration is glorious.

Is everything going to be okay?

While nature has the upper hand everything will be ok, as she is our Mother – the greatest Mother of all.

Jenny Kee is an artist, fashion designer and environmental activist. See her work and collections here.

Julia Busuttil Nishimura with new baby boy Yukito! Photo – Eve Wilson for The Design Files.

Julia Busuttil Nishimura, Fitzroy, VIC

What have your learned from your mum that remains with you today?

The importance of showing kindness and having empathy for others.

What is something you say to comfort your kids in tricky times?

We like to keep it light at home but my eldest is 4 so sometimes he’s heard something at kinder or caught a snippet of a conversation. I listen to what his fears are and label them. I think it’s really important to reassure him that things are ok and that he’s safe, that it’s ok to feel sad or scared or whatever he is feeling, but that we’re here for him.

What kind of world do you hope your children will inherit?

I hope my children will inherit a kind world where people look out for each other. A world where the leaders care for ALL – people and nature.

What are you optimistic about right now?

Even though it can be overwhelming when people say the ‘new normal’ I am hopeful that we will return to travel, and family gatherings and hugging friends. I am optimistic that this time has helped many of us to slow down and appreciate the small joys we usually take for granted.

Is everything going to be okay?

It is sad that so much life has been lost and many have lost jobs and businesses and many of us are feeling lonely. It’s been a pretty hectic year. Between this and the bushfires, anxiety levels feel heightened all around, but I do think we will come out the other side stronger and more intertwined as a community.

Julia Busuttil Nishimura is a cook, author and beloved TDF Food columnist!

Yumi Stynes with her partner Martin, and children ‘Man Baby’, Mercy, Dee Dee and Anouk. Photo – Katherine Millard for The Design Files.

Yumi Stynes, Sydney, NSW

What have your learned from your Mum that remains with you today?

My Mum used to say that your physical space is a reflection of your soul. So if your room is in utter disarray, there’s a strong chance your spirituality is, too.

What is something you say to comfort your kids in tricky times?

I used to sing the song “Go to sleep” with our own made-up lyrics – “Go to sleep, go to sleep, you are warm and protected, you are safe, you are loved, bed is soft so – nigh nigh!” Now they’re a bit bigger (4, 5, 15 and 18) so I’m not singing to them as much, but when one of them is having a freak out, the first thing I try to do is listen so they can tell me their fears or what’s going on, then in my own words I repeat what they’ve said back to them so they know I understand. To the little one I might say, “You’re scared – and fair enough! You’re safe. Come here. You’re safe. You’re going to be okay.” To the biggest one I might say, “You’re upset – and fair enough! You’re safe. You’re going to be okay.” It helps to remember that they don’t necessarily want advice, they just want to share.

What kind of world do you hope your children will inherit?

I hope the kids will inherit a world where there’s free universal healthcare and where nature hasn’t been completely destroyed. I really hope there’s an upcoming generation of girls, women and non-binary people out there who are inspired to enter politics because they’ve had a gutful of the monocultural vested-interest wankers we seem to keep putting in charge. I hope basics like bananas and bees don’t become extinct during their lifetimes. I hope they never experience war or famine. But at the moment I just hope they get a chance to live to old age.

What are you optimistic about right now?

I’m optimistic that people have seen that real, systemic and gigantic change is possible. I’m optimistic that when everything else is terrible, art and music still has the power to elevate the soul.

Is everything going to be okay?

One of the things I do for pleasure and relaxation is I cook and nut out new recipes. I do this so much that I tend to have a surplus of food and drop parcels of the latest yummy ridiculous thing to my friends. I have a loop of people I drive around to, dropping off food as gestures of love, solidarity and community. This week I pretty much worked out the most spectacularly perfect recipe for Creamy Chicken Soup. It’s been a work in progress for many years but I actually think I can stop trying to perfect it now because it is, in fact, perfect. So. I don’t know if everything is going to be okay but I do know that there can be comfort in sticking up for and showing kindness to people who need it, and sometimes that is the best that we can do. Until we burn the whole fucking thing down.

Yumi Stynes is an author, presenter and broadcaster. Her award-winning ABC podcast Ladies, We Need To Talk just launched their fourth season. The next episode is about women working at the front line of coronavirus, and is out on May 19th.

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ask-marine-mitsu · 7 years

Photo

((Art by @ask-sutekinaoaldonza Story by me))

Meeting The Admirals.

The sun hadn’t even peeked over the horizon when Mitsu Murata sat up in her hammock. Her cheeks were puffed out and her eyes squinted shut as she rolled out of bed and landed on the floor. A few feet away a tiny green striped puppy was sleeping, a handkerchief tied around its neck as it snoozed away. They had recently rescued the little cutie from a group of notorious pirates, and Mitsu was all too happy to have a new little friend. Though her father disagreed with it vehemently he had eventually lost to the power of double puppy dog eyes.

She didn’t want to waste a single second today, after all, it was a very important day indeed! They were finally docking at the Marine Headquarters, and the fleet admiral himself was going to come on board. She had heard of Sengoku plenty, and once or twice even seen the other Admirals speaking with her father, but today was the day she was going to really meet them! Mitsu was determined to give a good impression, no matter what.

“Come on Marimo! Get up! Get up Marimo, it’s food time!” She ruffled the puppy’s fur and it yawned, which triggered the same response in the small child. “No! No more sleeping, we’re gonna be late if we don’t hurry!” Slowly the little puppy shuffled over to his food bowl and began to eat while Mitsu fished out the proper attire for the day.

Unfortunately, despite her pleading, the ships tailor had refused to give her a proper Marine uniform, and thus she was stuck with only a marine jacket. Mitsu was determined to make the best of it though and dug out her nicest pants, shirt, and boots to wear. She even found a new handkerchief for Marimo with the Marine logo on it, so that he could look his best too. By the time the girl and her puppy were dressed and ready for the day the rest of the crew was beginning to get up and about, the sounds of heavy footsteps echoing softly into her room. “Come on boy, let’s make sure papa’s actually awake in time for this!”

Mitsu paused just before running out the door, and came right back to grab up a rubber ducky that was still sitting in her hammock. “Sorry Freddy, I could never forget you.” Marimo barked at the door, tail wagging eagerly, now that he was awake he was almost as excited as his owner to get going. Opening the door to her room Mitsu found herself in her father’s office, crossing it quickly she entered his bedroom, where Admiral Kizaru slept sprawled out like some sort of stretched out monkey. The door made a solid bang against the wall and Marimo barked as loud as his little puppy lungs could allow him to. Kizaru only groaned and rolled over in bed. “Fiiive more minuuuttes.”

Pouting Mitsu marched right up to his bed, wound up, and threw Freddy as hard as she could right into his eye. The rubber duck landed with a ‘QUACK’ its beak hitting the girls target perfectly. Borsalino swatted the duck away and sat up squinting down at his child. “Miiitsu, if you wanted to cuddleee- “

His sentence was stopped as his child jumped on the bed, right on his knee and glared at him. “We’ve docked at headquarters! Now get up old man!” Not very many people could have smacked the Admiral on the head and gotten away with it, twice no less, but his child was one of those people. Grabbing up Freddy she hopped off the bed while her father groaned, trying to summon up his will to live after being smacked by his child first thing in the morning. Not that it was an altogether uncommon occurrence. “Get ready! I’ll make sure you have food ok! Jeeze, and I thought you were adopting me.”

Sticking her tongue out Mitsu turned around and marched out of the room, so she couldn’t see the small, proud smile that broke across her father’s face at the sight of the determined little girl. Just a few short months ago she had barely felt comfortable asking him to help when she was actually in physical pain, and now here she was, helping him of all things. Though he hated actually having to get up and take this seriously, he could manage, if only to please his child… and perhaps the thought of Akainu’s confused expression also motivated him slightly. Though only slightly.

On deck Mitsu was rushing about with the other Marine’s helping new and old recruits tie their knots properly, remember parts of the ship, and how to greet superior officers appropriately. At first many of them had protested at having a little girl help them with such things, but it was hard to fault the child when she so earnestly wanted to assist them. Especially today when chaos was raining all about, they could use all the help it was possible to get. Near the helm, Lieutenant Noot called out to the crew. “Alright! Line up men! And gods damnit try and remember your names this time!”

The boarding ramp was finally being lowered, and just at the end of the dock stood three imposing figures. From where she stood near the ramp, making a few final adjustments to the ropes tied there, Mitsu could just make them out. They stood head and shoulders above all the men around them, all of whom were beginning to line up and salute along the dock. Quickly Mitsu rushed back to the deck of the ship, where the crew had lined up in order of rank and name. Her father was still nowhere in sight.

Shaking off the worry that was starting to crawl up her spine Mitsu whistled, and Marimo came bounding over as the duo rushed to their position. The Marine’s around her didn’t even have to move much, so small was the little girl who now stood between them. Mitsu was near the end of the first line, between Casiel Mollark and Pietro Nagarkar. Now she was really nervous, her father was still nowhere to be seen and the Admirals were almost there, the entire crew was ready for this. A hand came down on her shoulder and she looked up, Pietro, with his dark skin and almost darker eyes as he smiled down at her. Taking a deep breath Mitsu nodded and pushed her shoulders back, chest out, feet together. Casiel and Pietro, along with the marine’s behind them, were all trying not to giggle at the sight of the tiny (usually hyper) child putting on such a serious expression.

Just as the admirals began boarding the ship there was a streak of light that moved from the captain’s quarters and began to coalesce in front of them. It flashed and formed and then there he was, standing as tall as the other admirals, and emerging in his usual bright yellow striped suit and amber sunglasses, her father, Admiral Kizaru. He smiled at the other admirals and gave quite possibly the laziest salute Mitsu had ever seen towards Sengoku. “Weelcome aboard gentlemen~ care for a tour?”

Admiral Aokiji yawned, the sleeping mask on his forehead dipping down slightly as he looked around. “Hate to interrupt, but we know your ship Borsalino, maybe just-”

“Yeah yeah, get on with it. Are you going to make this damn meeting take all day?” Akainu looked like he was about five seconds away from punching… well anyone really, he seemed about as angry as ever. Sengoku was the only one who seemed remotely in control of the situation, and simply stepped forward to begin the quick inspection of the crew.

All the Marine’s stood at attention immediately as the admirals walked down the line. Aokiji barely said a word, only yawning occasionally, but Akainu would actually stop and question any Marine who seemed remotely out of place or whose stance was wrong. All the while Sengoku strode past row after row of them, looking like his mind was on paperwork and more paperwork. Kizaru walked with an almost annoying spring in his step as he spoke about his crew’s stellar performance, providing some poor relief to the Marine’s that just a few seconds before had been yelled at by the red dog.

As they came to the end of the row Kizaru kept walking, but Sengoku paused, and looked down. Mitsu, while not taking up much space, did cause a slight gap between the rows of Marine’s given her size. Akainu’s eye actually twitched at the sight of the tiny child standing in line with the other Marine’s. At first Aokiji didn’t understand why they had all paused, and then he looked down, and had to clap a hand over his mouth at the sight of the saluting child. Sitting just at her side was Marimo, the striped green puppy with his Marine handkerchief tied around his neck. And right on top of his head was Freddy, the rubber duck, who somehow had not fallen off yet, Mitsu was very proud of this.

Akainu very nearly bit the cigar he was holding between his teeth in half as he bent over at the waist to get a better look at Mitsu. Years of staring down far uglier men than this, in much scarier situations, prepared the little girl well, as she simply kept staring straight ahead, never once breaking form. “Exactly why is there a child on board this ship?”

From the way he was looking at her Akainu was expecting an answer from her, so Mitsu delivered. “Sir, I serve as an assistant to Admiral Kizaru sir. I ensure that his work is properly managed as well as assisting in minor tasks around the ship sir.”

Aokiji was straining right then, clutching his stomach, and Sengoku was not much better off, his stoic expression miliseconds away from breaking. Just behind them stood Lieutenant Noot, looking entirely proud, and her father who was grinning from ear to ear. Akainu was the only person standing there who seemed to be unaffected by the tiny cute wannabe marine. “And the green dog?”

“Sir, I am training him to be a search and rescue dog, as you can see he has already made excellent progress sir.” She had a slight lisp at the end, and Mitsu realized then that one of her baby teeth was beginning to come loose. Sengoku put a hand to his mouth, trying to disguise a small laugh as a cough, while Aokiji was busy doubling over just beside him.

Akainu’s brow twitched again and a few cigar ashes fell onto the deck just in front of Mitsu. Still she didn’t move. There was venom in his voice, actual annoyance at the fact that this tiny child had so far not wavered an inch. “So, what reason do you have for the rubber duck then?”

“Sir, due to his buoyancy Fre- the rubber duck can be used to track currents when without traditional equipment. His squeak also serves as an alarm in case of emergency, and he can be a useful projectile weapon.”

Kizaru spoke up at that. “She’s not wrong, nearly took out my eye this morning.”

Aokiji finally broke, he was laughing hysterically at this point and Sengoku wasn’t far behind. Almost all of the Marine’s around Mitsu were fighting, through clenched jaws and trembling limbs, to not join in the laughter. Kizaru was glowing, quite literally, with pride and quiet laughter. Even Akainu managed his version of a laugh, a gruff scoff, at the child’s final answer. Standing back to his full height he took one look at Pietro and Casiel, and glared. “Straighten up! Both of you, follow the girls example and salute like you were trained to!”

“Sir yes sir!” The Marine’s, straightened up and saluted properly. As the Admiral’s all began to walk away, still chuckling from Mitsu’s performance, the girl felt a quick pat on her head. Akainu kept walking, but she knew it had been him, it was quick and rough, and had hurt her neck a little, but it made her feel warm. Maybe the admirals weren’t that scary, not if they could laugh like that, and certainly not if they could accept a child like her wanting to be one of them.

#Mitsu Murata #Admiral Kizaru #admiral akainu #admiral aokiji #fleet admiral sengoku #Sengoku #Borsalino #Sakazuki #Kuzan #ask-marine-mitsu #Adorable antics #meeting the admirals #it's long yes #but also fun I swear

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