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#they'll be okay they'll talk about it later
kelsonius · 1 day
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What I find really interesting about Dungeon Meshi is how it explores the role of humans/humanoids in an ecosystem and what is okay to consume.
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Take the kelpie for example. Senshi is attached to the kelpie that frequently joins him while he's fishing, even naming her. Marcille also thinks it's cute and supports the idea of Senshi riding it. After that doesn't turn out well Senshi apologises while delivering the killing blow, appearing remorseful. Nevertheless, he himself sets out to salvage usable ingredients from the now deceased kelpie and even Marcille uses some of its fat for soap.
That is an example of exactly the type of relationship I think humans should have with livestock animals. I'm mostly vegan (occasional exceptions made for fish and eggs) both because of the environmental and animal rights issues with large scale livestock farming/the meat industry. However, I very much support a harmonious approach shown by indigenous peoples and small scale farming for example. Where, similar to Senshi and the kelpie, the animal lives a good life and is loved by its keepers until it is killed and all its parts are utilised.
There is also something to be said about people's involvement in the slaughter of animals so they respect the origin of their favourite products, like Marcille with the soap, since that is likely one of the reasons people currently consume animal products in such copious amounts. I regrettably didn't save the post in my drafts, but I saw someone on here talk about how far removed we are in the west from the origin of our meat products and how absurd it is that people are disgusted by a fish served with its head for example.
Meanwhile, Laios and Chilchuck are arguing over whether it's okay to eat a fish-man since it resembles a humanoid. Laios naturally wants to eat everything but Chilchuck has reservations when it comes to humanoids. This comes up in later episodes as well, where the rest of the crew appears to have fewer reservations since the creatures are being killed in self-defense and they're now seeing the utility of not letting resources go to waste.
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Now I wonder if they'll take it as far as cannibalism, but humanoids are already a close metaphor. In any case, it is a great way to showcase how the arbitrary values we attribute to different species influences what we consider to be acceptable food, even though it's all just meat. I mean, I could never slaughter a cat for example but somehow would be fine with eating human flesh...
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blacklegsanjiii · 11 hours
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Can you imagine if the Vinsmokes gained their emotions back when Sanji saves their lives at WCI, but it kinda hits them all at once, so they become massively attached to Sanji.
21+ years of familial love for their brother smacks them in the face, only for them to find out Sanji has REALLY over protective boyfriends in ASL who monopolize Sanji all the time (this can be the gods au or just regular ASL+S)
Gods can you imagine the guilt? Not only just all that love but the guilt, shame, embarrassment, and horror at what they've done. Reiju just watching them and Ichiji asking her why she never stopped them, how often she helped Sanji after what they did? He needs to know and the answers 'i didn't want the attention ' and 'not enough' rip through his chest like niji's lightning.
Sanji's gone, with his crew and they've only just escaped Big Mom's pirates and her prison and everything so they're not exactly primed for the real world. But without Germa and being free means they need to find their own way. So uhh, they guess first things they'll go find Zeff and thank him? And they do. Zeff and everyone is confused about the apology/thanks combo they're getting. Especially because it revolves around Sanji and Germa. Zeff is ready to kill them all but Patty says they can work for their forgiveness and puts them in the dishpit.
It's good for them, they're working through a lot of things and Zeff keeps making them push back against him verbally. They're...healing, but they need more but at least they're also developing some skills that can help them in their pursuit. Over time, maybe about a year ish later they decide to find Sanji. To go apologize, they won't ask for forgiveness, it's not something they deserve but he needs to their regret, their sorrow, their change. For them to be like him like their mother wanted. Maybe their skin is no longer metal, still extremely durable but they can be bleed.
Following the Strawhats is a challenge and Zeff warned them about it though. He gives them his lot of the Grand Line, a log post, and demands letters. They agree as Reiju stays with Zeff. As they set sail Zeff tells them to not be afraid of Sanji's boyfriends, they'll understand eventually! Which makes Niji ask the hell that means to no response. It takes a few months but they're doing fine. Mostly.
The New World is a bigger challenge than they expected but when they catch up the crew is fighting Marines and it's all an out assault from both sides. Ichiji says they should attack the Marines so they do with their powers and uhhh, is that a guy with three swords coming after them? Oh shit it's that Roronoa Zoro guy! Fuck!
Yonji is trying to calm him down while evading him. Ichiji and Niji are still focusing on actually fighting the Marines who start to retreat and the fire dives down so Luffy snaps onto their ship with a rubbery twang and pure anger and Nami, the hot chick they remember is there on a cloud. Right. Okay. They can do this!
"You broke the agreement so we're going to sink your ship!" Luffy yells at them in warning.
"We want to to apologize to Sanji." Ichiji says evenly.
"I'll see if he even wants to talk to you after what happened." Nami growls as the cloud takes her back. They get a signal to meet at the ship. Not to board, so it's kind of awkward with the height differences between the ships. Luffy and Zoro jump up onto their ship as Luffy slings an arm around Sanji with a cowboy guy who is glaring viciously at them.
"Speak your piece and get the fuck away!" Sanji yells at them.
"Were sorry! We are not owed forgiveness for anything!" Yonji starts.
"That's not an apology." The cowboy says.
"Oh, Sabo's going suuuper to love this." The robot says.
"Ah, do you want us to say? We don't know what you told them and don't want to cause more problems." Ichiji asks.
"Start with the cuffs." Luffy demands.
"Cuffs?" A few voices ask.
"Sorry we let Judge put those on you!" Ichiji says with a wince.
"Sorry for our childhoods!" Niji yells. "And electrocuting you with that plate in your back, especially. And calling you a failure after you got shot."
"Wait-" Zoro tries.
"Sorry about the dungeon?" Yonji tries which flummoxes the rest of the crew except Sanji.
"Oh my God they're going to die." Nami says.
"Zeff says you should write more, he's kind of been doing the whole push back thing he did with you? Reiju's still there." Ichiji says.
"Alright, I'll write to the fucking geezer but if I see any of you before I come back to Baratie I'm not who you have to worry about." Sanji threatens.
"Just one?" Luffy asks.
"Nah, let Sabo deal with them." Cowboy says. "Zeff is more likely to forgive him."
"Doubt that, lets get the fuck outta here, I need to start lunch." Sanji says walking away from the railing. With the crew chattering after him. When the brothers get home a few months later there's a blond guy talking with Reiju and Zeff and smiling politely with another orange haired girl beside him.
"Don't threaten them too much." Zeff warns.
"I would never sully this fine established like that." The blond says with mock offense.
"Don't sully it with blood either." Zeff stresses.
"Of course not! I'll do it elsewhere and no one will know." The blond smiles at the chef. "Bye guys!" He chirps, grabbing a pipe from the floor and leaves with the other girl who mimics slitting her throat at them with a smile as she skips out the door.
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divorcedfiddleford · 3 months
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leave the door ajar
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nostalgia-tblr · 29 days
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having a vague "why am i writing this horrible story?" crisis about the anglo-saxon au fic that has taken over my mind since *checks* about two days ago. i have approx 2000 words of it written so it is going fairly well in that sense but i have gone a bit niche with my fics recently and am starting to think "nobody wants to read this, people will be annoyed at you if you post this" a bit more often, even though they probably won't because it's a free cake and it's rude to complain about free cake.
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robinsnest2111 · 11 months
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just found out what happens when there's a knock on my door and I say "one moment please" because I am not ready to be seen instead of my usual "yes"
...the door gets thrown open anyway
🙃
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nickfowlerrr · 4 months
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so inviting, i almost jump in.
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pairing: neighbor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: fluff. pining. idiots in love? fake dating...kinda lol. a lil bit of angst but not too much.
words: 4.5k
notes: happy new year! i tried so hard to finish this last night but just couldn’t do it lol. this is part of the ciwywt universe, but i think it can be read as a standalone, too.
also - coherent, consistent timelines? sorry, don’t know her. idk where this fits in their story but it does bc i say it does. 😌 i really love these two and i hope you enjoy this lil fic as much as i do. thank you in advance for reading. as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome, and so appreciated! 💞
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"Ow,” you wince, “damn it," you grumble to yourself as you set your eyeliner pencil down, blinking rapidly to quell the tears you could feel about to form in your eye. You huff and turn to look down at the cause of your distraction, your phone ringing loudly as it lays on the counter. You see the caller and preemptively roll your eyes. Not this again.
You swipe to answer the call and his voice immediately floats into your ear, giving you no time to even utter a 'hello'.
"Before you say anything-"
"No," you state firmly, annoyance clear in your tone as you stop him before he can begin.
"Doll,"
"Bucky, I said no," you cut him off again. "It's a no. No. No, no, no. Not gonna happen," you continue despite his pathetic huff sounding on the other end.
"I know you said no..." he says before trailing off for a second, "but, doll, I really need you."
Damn him. You sigh heavily into the phone, putting a hand to your forehead to stop the headache you know is coming. He's really trying to pull on your heart strings... unfortunately for him, it's not gonna work.
"You don't need me, Bucky. You're gonna be fine. They're your friends, if you just tell them what you told me, they'll understand. You have nothing to worry about."
"That's not," he huffs, stopping himself, and you can almost hear him shake his head, "Will you at least try to come by?"
You know you won't, but you don't want to upset him any more than he already is.
"Yeah, I'll try. And stop worrying so much. You'll have a good time, I know it," you smile, the thought of him and his friends enjoying their New Year's Eve tugging at your lips.
"Yeah," he responds, sounding a little unsure. "Okay, well, I'll see you later?"
"Mhm...maybe," you say.
"Doll," he groans, causing an unbidden laugh to slip from you at his dramatics.
"I said I'd try, no promises! But I do have to go now, so, talk later. Bye," you finish, hanging up on him before he can try and talk you into making a promise you have no intention of keeping.
You sigh heavily as you set your phone back down, returning to your almost finished makeup. Just because you aren't going out doesn't mean you can't look good.
You're still so surprised he asked you to be his fake date to his New Year's Eve party. Both because you were surprised he was hosting a party to begin with, and because he needed a fake date.
But that was just it, he didn't need a fake date. He wanted to get his friends off his back with the constant set ups and double dates they'd plan for him. What he really needed to do was tell them the truth, just like he told you. He didn't want to date, at least not right now. He said his mind was on other things. That was understandable, so you weren't sure why he couldn't just tell them that...
A part of you feels bad for not helping Bucky out, but the other part of you knows you'd feel like a total outsider at a small party being attended by the avengers.
Like, the real-life superhero team, The Avengers.
That was an immediate 'no thank you'.
You were content to spend the night alone; just you, your grapes, and some apple cider to cheers to the new year.
--
The television plays on, another episode of a show you've seen ten times before just starting up, as a knock sounds at your door.
You furrow a brow as your head shoots in its direction. It only takes a second for you to come to the conclusion that it must be Bucky. You set your drink down and stand from where you were sitting cozily on your couch.
You fix your dress, and for no reason at all, check yourself in the mirror before you near the door, making sure your makeup isn't smudged and your hair still looks nice as you do.
There's another knock as you get to it and you open your door with a bit of attitude at his impatience.
"Bucky, how many times-" you're stopped short as you quickly see that the man before you is, in fact, not Bucky. "Oh, uhm, sorry, can I help you?" you ask.
"Yeah," the man laughs, "I'm here for the party. This is the right apartment, isn't it? Bucky Barnes?" he asks, looking at you quizically.
"No," you answer, "no, wrong apartment. He's just," again you're cut off, but this time by the door right down the hall opening, none other than Bucky peeking out to look down at you and - oh my god wait...is this - this is - holy shit you're talking to Captain America. Your eyes round as you look from Bucky back over to the man before you. "Oh, gosh, you, you're,"
"Sam Wilson," he smiles brightly at you, extending a hand. You shake hands as he continues, "and you must be-"
He is cut off from saying your name as it comes out of Bucky's mouth, almost frantically. You look from Sam back over to Bucky, your eyes still wide.
"I know you're still getting ready, but would you come here for just a second," he nods at you. You look once more between Sam and Bucky, your eyes narrowing as they land back on your own personal pain in the ass. What the hell is he up to... You and Sam go to walk over to him but Bucky speaks again. "Not you, Sam. You stay there," he says in a fuss. Sam puts his hands up, a look of confusion clear on his face at Bucky's demand.
You continue toward him and as soon as you're close enough to touch, he pulls you to him, turning you both so Sam can't see what you're saying. It's a hushed conversation, a whispered argument, really.
"You have to come over."
"No, I really don't."
"You do."
"I don't."
"You're staying."
"No, I'm not."
"You're staying. I'm not letting you leave," he says, trying to corral you into his apartment as you swipe at him, a back and forth of swats ensuing between the two of you.
"Bucky!" you finally whisper yell, stopping the battle as you ball your fists, almost stomping like a toddler in your annoyance. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I lied."
"Huh? To me? About what?"
"To all of you. But mostly them. I told them you'd be here. Because I thought you would be. But then you said you weren't coming, but I couldn't tell them that or they'd think I was just making up another lie about you..."
"Another lie?"
"I...may have... told my friends that we're dating and have been for a few weeks," he murmurs under his breath, so quiet you can barely hear his confession.
"You what?" you balk, trying your hardest to squash the stupid butterflies that are fluttering around in your stomach now at the idea of not only dating Bucky, but of being someone he brings up in conversation to other people.
"Alright, love birds, cute as this is, are one of you gonna invite me in or am I just supposed to stand here awkwardly in your hallway all night?" Sam interjects, walking to you both as you turn your heads to look at him.
Bucky turns entirely, moving closer to you, slipping his arm behind your back and resting his hand on your hip, "Yeah, welcome in. Steve said he'd be here with beer in a few minutes," Bucky says, an annoyed edge to his voice as he lets Sam through the door. Sam raises a brow at you and you force a smile. As soon as he's inside, Bucky snaps the door shut behind him, leaving you both in the hallway still.
"What the hell," Sam says, loud enough for you to hear through the door.
"Look, it started as a lie to get out of a date, but then I just kept using you an excuse to not go to things I didn't wanna go to. And ya know, more than half the time I wasn't really lying because I was with you," he tries to excuse himself.
"Are you insane?" you ask him plainly.
"I know, I'm sorry, but I really need you to be here tonight, please," he begs, his puppy eyes starting to get to you.
"You had only asked me to be your fake date."
"Yeah, once you said yes, I was gonna work the girlfriend thing in," he smiles wryly, rubbing the back of his neck in his anxiousness.
"You're ridiculous, you know that?"
"Is that a yes?"
You roll your eyes before acquiescing, "Fine. But you've gotta come clean tomorrow. You can't start the new year with secrets, it doesn't bode well for anyone."
"Deal," he smiles his real smile this time. Then his eyes drift down to your outfit and you warm, like you always do, under his attention. "You look good," he says softly, sincerity in his voice.
"Thanks," you accept quickly. You will not let him fluster you so easily. Not tonight.
--
More of Bucky's friends arrive soon after you get back from your apartment, your bag of grapes and bottle of unopened cider in hand. Bucky introduces you to each of them and you're now unsurprised that they know your name and exactly who you are. And you, for your part, are in awe of each and every one of them. Though you like to think you don't make it obvious.
And it's surprising how normal it all feels.
You for sure thought you'd be a nervous wreck around these people, but, especially with Bucky by your side, you've never felt so calm and comfortable, and at a party of all places. Though you suppose it helps that you're already so comfortable around his apartment. Still, it's nice. They're nice. And fun!
Card games are played, karaoke sung, and stories told as you all snack and chat the evening away.
You're all laughing as Sam talks about how everyone was sure Bucky had been making you up like a summer camp girlfriend after the fifth time he claimed you were sick or out of town so you couldn't show up to the events they had invited you to. Of course, you had no idea about any of them, but you do know where you were each and every night they brought up.
You were here.
With Bucky.
So, he wasn't completely lying. You smile and look to Bucky who stands right next to you. Your eyes instantly meet his, a smile of his own already gracing his face. You look back down, bashful despite yourself.
The night has passed so quickly and it's already nearing midnight. You're about to go get your grapes ready, but Steve's voice stops you, catching your attention.
"Ya know, I can't even remember the last time I've seen you look so happy, Buck," Steve smiles as he looks at the two of you. "I'm really happy for you, both of you,” he adds. “It's obvious how much you two care about each other. It's good to see."
You don't know what to say, and you're too scared to look at Bucky. You just force another smile, feeling a bit sad more than anything. Because this isn't real. Whether you'd like it to be or not. It isn't. You have to remind yourself of that.
Bucky's hand squeezing your waist, and the feeling of his admiring gaze on you as he pulls you closer to his side, doesn't help. It just makes that pit in your stomach grow deeper.
This is easy for him because it means nothing.
This is killing you because it means everything. It’s everything you never give yourself permission to dream about. Everything you want. And it’s what you know isn’t for you. It couldn’t be.
Just a few more minutes, you breathe, and then you'll go back to normal. No dating, just friends...just friends? Whatever it is you are to him...
You're lost in thought as the conversation continues around you, Bucky's hand never leaving you and his gaze never wavering. Even as he engages in the conversation, his attention is solely on you.
"Oo, countdown is going!"
The yell pulls you out of your head as your eyes snap to the television. What the hell! How did you just lose eight minutes? Damn Bucky always taking up your thoughts and distracting you.
You don't have the time to get to the fridge for your grapes as the kitchen is crowded, flutes of cider and champagne being passed out among the group.
You tsk, oh well. At least you have on your red underwear.
As the count gets lower, Bucky gets closer, and you mindlessly lean back into him as you watch the live broadcast from Time Square. Ten seconds hits and you all count along, Bucky's other arm comes around as he holds you from behind. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Bucky turns you around in his arms, catching you off guard as you look up at him, your hands coming to rest on his chest.
Two.
He leans in, and you're frozen. His nose brushes yours, as his lips brush against your own. Oh.
One.
"Happy New Year," he whispers against you, cheers and exclamations of the same sentiment shared all around the living room, between everyone else.
"Happy New Year," you whisper back breathily before you unthinkingly press closer to him.
His lips meet yours as he leans in ever closer and kisses you, so softly. Your eyes flutter closed as you return his affection, kissing back harder than you intend before you break away. It feels like magic, it feels like home. And you want nothing more than to do it again. To lose yourself in him so delightfully…
You remember yourself then and almost shy away completely before Bucky takes your face in his hand, turning you back to him. You lock eyes once more and you feel like you can't breathe at what you see in his. You don't have time to think on it before his eyes flick down to your lips and then he's kissing you again. His lips press harder against yours, still moving just as gently but somehow it feels much more intimate. Sincere. Real.
You deepen the kiss and then suddenly the whooping and claps around you both bring you back to reality.
You pull away, taking a sobering breath, blinking away the haze of longing as Bucky's delicate touch remains on your cheek. You gingerly reach to take his hand, slowly pulling it off of you. You hold it for a second, squeezing his hand before letting it drop.
The celebration continues all around but you need to get yourself together. Alone.
"'M gonna use the bathroom," you whisper to him, knowing he can hear you even through the din.
You exchange 'Happy New Year' exclamations with everyone you pass on your way to his bathroom and bid goodnight to the people already getting ready to head home. A lot of them have early mornings at the tower, so you get it.
There are only a few people in the living room with Bucky as you look back before you escape to the bathroom, taking your time to decompress.
Sam, Steve, and Nat were talking with him, but his eyes were on you when you looked at them.
You knew this was a bad idea. You knew you'd get caught up in the fantasy. And somehow, he still got you to do it. You curse yourself in the mirror and then notice your smudged lipstick.
The thought of your lipstick staining Bucky's lips right out there has you in a flurry of emotions...
He kissed you. Twice. That actually happened. But did it really mean anything?
Your heart twists as you refuse to believe it could have. You just need to... God, you don't know what you need. All you know is right now you can't stop thinking about Bucky's hands on you. You can't stop thinking of how soft and supple his lips are. And how damn good of a kisser he is.
You look at yourself once more in the mirror.
Fucking hell. What are you gonna do? You sigh, eyes squeezing shut before you shake your head at yourself.
You turn back to the door, opening it right when someone's knock hits.
You're somehow surprised, and yet not at all, to see Bucky staring back at you as you pull it open wider.
"Hey," you say, raising a brow and shoving every fuzzy feeling threatening to strangle you back down.
"Hey," he started. "Everyone left. I just, uh. Wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Yeah, I'm good," you nod.
"I'm sorry. About kissing you."
"Oh," you utter - sounding more dejected than you wanted to. "Yeah, no. Don't, don't even worry about it." You muster a shamefully see through smile.
His stare is near invasive as he really looks at you, analyzing you. He opens his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it, instead giving you a tight lipped smile in return.
He nods, then looks to the floor, "Okay," he accepts.
You nibble your lip, crossing your arms as he still stands in front of you.
He notices and moves out of your way, offering a small sorry and a huff of a laugh.
You walk back out into the living room as he follows.
"Wow, this place is a mess,” you breathe a laugh, hoping to keep the subject change.
"Yeah," he agrees, "I'll be having fun tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" you question. "Are you busy now?"
"... I guess not."
"Then grab a garbage bag, Barnes. We've got work to do."
He laughs, "Oh, yeah? You're gonna stay and help me clean up?"
"What are friends for if not clean up?"
He smiles at you as his mind replays his conversation with Sam, Steve and Nat just minutes ago.
He told them the truth about you, and their reaction wasn't what he expected, but definitely what he needed.
"Wait, sorry, you're not dating her?" Nat asked, puzzled.
"Yeah, I'm confused, too," Sam added. "You guys act more like a couple than most couples I know."
"And she's cute, you seem perfect together."
"Well, we're not. Not, not perfect together," he amended, "I mean we're just not together. We're friends. Nothing more."
"Looks like a hell of a lot more, if you ask me..."
"So," Steve finally chimed in, "you spend all that time together, you talk about her constantly, and I saw the way you kissed her at midnight, Buck, but you're telling us it's nothing more than friendship?"
Bucky didn't know what to say. But he knew Steve knew what he was really feeling. He knew exactly what he wasn't saying.
"Do you want it to be more?" he asked. "Because from an outsider's perspective, it seems like you have everything with her but the label."
"I..." Bucky looked around, making sure you hadn't snuck back out of the bathroom yet, "yeah. I do want it to be more. She's, fuckin' perfect," he breathed a laugh as his thoughts, as they always do, strayed back to you. That familiar warmth that fills his chest anytime you're near, or hell, anytime he so much as thinks your name, returned to him. And suddenly his thoughts went back to the softness of your cheek as he held you close earlier. How pliant and perfectly your lips moved against his as you kissed him back. Not once, but twice.
Even still, he thinks back to when he told you why he was so reluctant to go on the dates his friends kept setting up for him. It was a lie when he said it was because he didn't want to date right now... well, partially. He really didn't want to date around. And his mind was focus on other things.
Other things, of course, being you.
When you nodded and told him you got it, that you felt the same way, his heart felt like it deflated by ten.
He was getting ready to finally make his move and ask you out, for real this time. But how could he do that now? He didn't want to be another guy you had to swat away, he couldn't be another one of your rejections. And you gave out plenty, always to his selfish delight if he was being honest. In fact, he can't remember the last time you actually went out on a date. It's been months...
Most of your nights are spent together. Just the two of you. But if you weren't wanting to date anyone right now, and he asked you, he couldn't be sure what you'd say. More importantly, where it'd leave you.
Bucky wasn't stupid, he wasn't blind, and he wasn't deaf. He had every confirmation he could ever want that you liked him the same way he liked you. But he didn't want to chase you away by pressuring a relationship, especially if that's not what you want.
"It's clear she likes you, too, ya know," Steve pointed out what he thought was the obvious.
"I know, I just. I don't wanna push her away by moving too fast. I don't think she's looking to date anybody right now,"
"If you don't ask, you'll never know."
He knew they were right. He needed to just bite the bullet and ask you outright. And he would.
But as he watches you glide around his kitchen, so at home, putting things back in their rightful places and throwing away the random garbage left behind, he thinks maybe not tonight… He doesn’t want to ask a question that might make you leave. But then again…what if it makes you stay?
"Chop chop, supersoldier," you admonish him as he continues to watch, staring dreamily at you. Your back is to him so you can't see his face, but you can feel the weight of his gaze.
Bucky follows your lead, tossing away the empty cups and putting away the leftover food and drinks while you wipe down the counter.
It really wasn't that much of a mess, but you're glad to get it cleaned now, so you won't have to worry about it tomorrow.
Wait...why would you be worried about it tomorrow? This isn't your apartment. God, you really are always over here, aren't you...
You turn to Bucky as he ties off the bag of trash.
You just look at him for a minute. Admiring him from mere feet away while he does the same to you. It's quiet between the two of you, but you can feel the charged silence as it brims with words unsaid.
You know what you want to do right now. But you do what you think you should instead.
"I guess I'll head out, then."
"Oh," he breathes.
"Oh?"
"I just, uh,” he shakes his head, "Never mind."
"No, what is it?" you prod, now entirely curious.
Bucky's bright eyes flash back up to yours and you see him search for what to say instead of saying what was on his mind.
"Your grapes," he remembers, turning to the fridge to get them for you, "you didn't eat them."
"Oh, yeah, well, too late now," you laugh softly.
"What's your resolution?" he asks.
"That's not how the grapes work, Bucky."
"Come on," he goads. "What's your resolution? I wanna know."
"Hmm. Well, good question," you think for a moment, watching him as he rinses off a bunch, then pulls two grapes from their stems. You mindlessly purse your lips as you think. "I want to be less scared," you start quietly, eyes meeting his intent gaze, when he looks back at you, "More confident," you add with a little nod.
"You, more confident?" he asks. "You're one of the most confident people I know. And I know Thor," he adds, getting the laugh he was hoping for from you.
You shrug, "Fake it til you make it." You give a soft, almost sad smile. It physically hurts him to see that hint of sadness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to do whatever he can to take it away. He hands you one of the two grapes and you raise a brow as you take it.
"And you?"
Your heart rate kicks up as he steps close, invading your space and standing right before you.
"I…would like to communicate better."
You huff a laugh, tittering, "Yeah, that's a good one."
"Let's both start right now," he says, holding up his grape.
"Okay. Let's," you hold up your own grape, bumping it into Bucky's as if you were toasting before you both pop your own grape into your mouth, stupid smiles on both of your faces.
As you finish, Bucky takes a step closer, surprising you as you look up to him. A bit of deja vu coming over you as you swallow hard. You wait a long breath for him to say something. And then he finally does.
"So. This is me, trying to communicate better: I'm not really sorry that I kissed you. Either time. And if I'm being entirely honest, I'd really like to kiss you again right now."
You're stunned silent and you think you can hear your blood rushing in your ears as you blink up at him.
It takes you a moment before you think you can respond, but Bucky speaks again before you do.
"But I'm not going to do that. Because I want to do this right. In fact, I've been wanting to do this right for months."
"Bucky?" you murmur quietly.
"Doll, will you do me the pleasure of accompanying me to dinner and a movie this Friday?" he asks sincerely.
Your mouth is dry and you have to force yourself to swallow hard again so you can speak. "We always do dinner and movies on Fridays," you point out.
"I mean as a date," he clarifies, holding himself to his resolution.
You stare at him, unsure of what to say. Well, that's not true. You know what you want to say. You know what you want to do. You want to say yes, and you want to lean into him again and indulge him in one more kiss, because you want to kiss him as badly as he wants to kiss you. But that terrified voice in the back of your head is currently telling you to make a run for home as fast as you can. You want to fight the fear, really you do.
Bucky is keeping his resolution already, you're just not sure if you can do the same.
"Uhm," you drone awkwardly.
He laughs that nervous laugh you rarely get to hear...the one you love.
"Is that a yes?" he asks with a hopeful wince.
It takes you a second and then your mouth moves before your brain does as you respond to him.
You stand there, a bit shocked at your own answer, and not entirely sure where to go from here...
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another-lost-mc · 4 months
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Okay but what if, before MC is taken to the future by nightbringer, they had a big fight with the brothers?
Like, they fought about something and said something along the lines 'go away' ' I don't want to see you', but then, when you don't return they start feeling guilty.
At first they'll think you're angry and don't want to talk with them, but when time passes and you don't return they start to get so worried, looking everywhere for you, regretting that the, possibly, last words they said to you were harsh confrontation.
The angst potential 😭😭 how do you think each of the bros would react?
😈🍬 anon
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a/n: well, nightbringer sure is a blessing for angst fans.
the worst goodbye | the demon brothers
2.8k words | gn!reader | sfw | angst
cw: mentions of lesson 16 in belphie's part.
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Lucifer goes to his office and pretends that he's not angry. He attempts to distract himself with paperwork, but all he does is read the same paragraph a few times over and over again before he throws the page down with a huff. He taps his pen against his desk while he sifts through the emotions clouding his mind. All he felt earlier was wounded pride—that's why he scolded you with more force than necessary, speaking with his cruel, barbed tongue but regretting it just as quickly. He admires and loathes your feisty temper. You're his stubborn, brave little human that stands up to him when most demons wouldn't dare to try.
He plans his apology like a mantra and goes to your room; he knows if he's sincere, you'll give him a chance to make things right. You don't answer your door when he knocks, and he peeks his head inside to confirm that you're not there. He sends you a message with his D.D.D. and shuffles awkwardly in the hallway while he waits for a reply. He asks in the family group chat, but no one's seen you recently and he ignores the initial tendrils of icy fear that make his chest feel tight. Surely you wouldn't have stormed off in a sulk? But he checks the rest of the house and his brothers realize slowly that something is wrong—you wouldn't just leave. Lucifer searches for you himself, around the House of Lamentation and all around the Devildom, searching for anyone that might've seen you, or any hint of where you've gone. But in the early twilight hours, he pours a glass of Demonus that remains untouched while he stares absently into the fire of his private study. His heart freezes over in your absence. Your warmth thawed his icy demeanor, and the roaring fire crackling nearby can't stop the chills that wrack through him when he tells himself that you're gone and he has no one to blame but himself.
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You rarely fight with Mammon these days, but when you do, it spirals out of control. He spits out scathing remarks about how he's sick of you trying to pry your nose into his business because he hates admitting that you're right. You try so desperately not to yell (or cry, or both) when you plead with him to forget about whatever risky scheme he's got planned. It's not worth risking Lucifer's wrath and whatever punishment lies in store when Mammon's plan inevitably fails to his own detriment. He stalks away and ignores the sound of your voice cracking in pain when you call his name one last time—and maybe if he were less incensed, he would stop and turn around and apologize. But today he feels particularly stubborn and he doesn't look back. He fully intends on leaping in his car and driving off into the night to burn off some steam, but he slumps against his bedroom door with his head in his hands and tries to remember why he was so angry with you to begin with. He can't pinpoint the reason and he knows you only have his best intentions at heart.
It feels like hours later when he ends up outside your door, head down and tail tucked firmly between his legs. He shouts through the wood when you don't answer and he swears he didn't mean it, that he'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. You're too patient and kind and loving for your own good, and he tempts fate every time he takes your forgiveness for granted. He opens the door and scratches his head in confusion when he realizes you're not there. He spots one of his brothers at the end of the hall, and his confusion sours into something ashy on his tongue when he asks him where you are. I haven't seen them—we all thought they were with you!
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Leviathan plays his game, tapping the buttons on his handheld with more force than necessary, as simmering anger from your fight earlier darkens his mood. He didn't mean to forget about your lunch date, so why did you get so mad? Maybe calling you a worse nag than Lucifer was over the top, but he planned on making it up to you later! He gets lost in his thoughts and plays his game until he realizes it's been a couple hours and his D.D.D. has been surprisingly silent. Sometimes you message him and invite him to talk things out in your room once you've both had time to calm down. He has no idea what it means that you've ignored him all this time and when he tries to message you first, they go unanswered. He shuffles to your room guiltily and hopes you'll be willing to talk face-to-face. It's almost dinner time, and maybe if you're feeling up to it, he can take you out for dinner. He even canceled his raid tonight so he can spend the evening curled with you on the sofa watching movies instead.
He doesn't expect to hear a commotion as he walks down the stairs to the first floor, and his brothers are crowded outside your room in various states of panic. Lucifer sees him and rushes to explain what's going on, but the words turn to radio static in Levi's head. He doesn't even notice that he drops his D.D.D. and it clatters to the ground, cracking the corner of the plastic case you gave him as a present not too long ago. Instead of cuddling with you on the sofa that night, he curls around his body pillow in the tub, his tail twitching noisily against the porcelain while he buries his head and deafens his whimpers in the tear-stained cotton. Come back, come back, please come back—
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When the rage subsides, Satan glances wearily around his room and the terrible mess he's made. Some of his favourite books are ripped and torn to shreds across the floor, but the sight hurts less than the memory of your heartbroken face crumpling in pain as you fought back tears. He's done many terrible things in his life he's not proud of, but insinuating you don't care about him might be the lowest blow he could use during a fight. You've only wanted what's best for him, and you try so hard to show the world that he's more than the violent, angry creature that lurks deep inside him.
If only the world could see you the way I do.
Regret quickens his steps and he leaves the broken chaos in his room to find you because he shouldn't have even let you go. Why did it take him so long to apologize? He doesn't deserve it, but if you'll only give him a chance, he swears to himself he'll make it up to you. He hastily wipes away the tears pooling in the corner of his eyes when he notices his brothers lingering outside your room. They're too distraught to notice the sharp bite in his words when he demands to know what's going on and where you are. Nothing they say makes any sense—you wouldn't just leave, right? He’s the first to tear through the house in a panic to find you, ignoring his brothers’ nervous pleas for him to calm down. You're nowhere to be found and eventually he returns to his room in a trance. No one knows how long he stands there, trembling with regret and shame and fury that someone or something dared take you away from him. All his brothers know, judging by the noise echoing through the halls, is that his room is nearly destroyed as he unleashed his heartbreak in a maelstrom of destructive rage.
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Asmodeus takes another selfie and posts it on Devilgram. He hopes the notification will pop up on your D.D.D. and you'll see him having the time of his life at The Fall. He wants you to see it—he hopes it fills you with regret for arguing with him earlier. He doesn't fight with you often, but your tongues are both sharp and laced with venom when you do face off against each other. He enjoyed the anxious gleam in your eye when he backed you into a wall and leaned down so you were nearly nose-to-nose, the sweet scent of his lip gloss lingering in the gap between you while he cooed about how pathetic you looked. But that was almost an hour ago, and he can only pretend for so long that he doesn't regret leaving you stunned and hurt in the front hall when he waltzed out the door and slammed it behind him. The pounding music can't drown out the wicked things he said to you, and the crowd can't distract him from your absence that weighs heavily in his heart. There are many demons nearby who'd kill for his attention, but he knows deep down that the only hands he wants roaming over his body are yours.
It's not long after that he pushes his way out of the club and into the cool night air, but he still hasn't heard from you. Surely you've seen his Devilgram posts by now? You're smart enough to recognize his desperate ploys for attention. Your attention. Are you ignoring him on purpose? Maybe he deserves it, but he's anxious to talk to you and sends you a message on his walk home anyway. Message could not be delivered. The red text pops up on his screen, and he frowns and tries again. Message could not be delivered. He quickens his pace as he taps your contact name and calls you instead. Is there something wrong with your D.D.D.? "The number you have dialed is not in service."
He breaks into a run until the House of Lamentation peeks into view ahead. He bursts through the door and ignores Lucifer's angry shouts behind him as he rushes down the hall to your room, but all he sees is one of your favourite club outfits laid out on your bed, as if you were getting ready to come see him after all. Where are you? His brothers hover behind him and he borrows one of their phones so he can try calling you again. He tells himself that it must be a problem with his D.D.D. because no other explanation makes sense. "The number you have dialed is—" Asmo whimpers pitifully while he listens to the robotic voice drone on speaker for everyone to hear, and his brothers finally realize that something is wrong and split up to search for you. He chokes out your name and slumps onto your bed, inhaling your familiar scent when he holds your shirt, one that he bought you, to his face and sobs. He can hear his brothers' heavy footfalls throughout the house while they look for you, but deep down, he already knows you're gone.
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Beel glances at the stands and wipes sweat and dirt from his brow. He can spot his brothers easily enough—it's hard to miss them, with the way Asmo's waving the glittery handmade sign with his name in bold pink lettering—but he doesn't see you. There's an empty space between Mammon and Levi where you normally sit, and they've kept it free for when—if—you show up. You've never missed one of his games, not ever. Maybe the argument earlier upset you more than he realized. He knows you don't normally eat his food on purpose. He knows you meant it when you sputtered apologies when you realized your mistake. He knows how hurt you were when he shouted at you in a hungry rage. The rest of the game passes by in a blur. He moves on autopilot, his mood growing more and more despondent each time he checks the crowd and realizes you're still not there. He barely recognizes his team's happy cheers when the game ends in victory. He has a quick shower and makes his excuses to his teammates because he already has plans for dinner tonight, with you, hopefully. He stops by Hell's Kitchen and picks up your favourite takeaway order and heads home. It's a peace offering, one of many apologies he owes you.
By the time he knocks on your door, he's eager to see you. Silence. He knocks again and waits, and he hesitantly pushes the door open when his greeting goes unanswered. You're not in your room, and after a quick search of the house, he realizes you're not anywhere. He visits your room over and over again as if you'll finally pop out and tell him you were just teasing him, because you wouldn't ever leave him on purpose, right? His name on a handmade sign on your bed, and one of his old jerseys he gave you, are all that you left behind and he wonders if he would've been able to stop you leaving had he come home to you sooner. (Your takeaway dinner remains uneaten in the fridge in case you come back, and Beel refuses to eat it himself or let anyone else eat it either. One of his brothers has to throw it away when it eventually turns rancid—Beel can't bring himself to do it, because it means admitting you may never come back.)
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Belphie doesn't like sleeping alone. Most nights if he sleeps alone, it's by choice—his choice. Tonight should've ended like most nights do: with the both of you sharing the bed in the attic. He sleeps better when you're close. You're a warm weight curled against him, and the smell of your shampoo and your minty breath are small comforts when he has bad dreams. Sometimes he wakes up in a panic, his shirt damp with cold sweat, and he listens for your quiet snores, proof that you're alive, that the nightmare of your windpipe crushed in his deadly grip isn't real. Belphie sleeps in the attic alone tonight because you decided you needed space. It's petty revenge for earlier when he woke up from a nap in a foul mood and snapped at you in his frustration. He fluffs his pillow and his bottom lip juts out in a pout. He can't get comfortable and it's your fault. The house grows quiet as his brothers retire to their rooms and fall asleep, and Belphie senses when you finally drift off to sleep too. If he wakes up before you tomorrow, he'll crawl into your bed and hope that you'll be more receptive to his apology when you wake up.
It takes longer than usual but he finally falls asleep and feels content. Even when he's unconscious, he instinctively reaches for your presence and it calms him. Your dreamscape is like a little pond, and he watches from his own nearby shore as your thoughts pass by in a blur, like slick oil paintings skimming over a watery surface. He doesn't like to intrude on your dreams if he can help it—he only interferes when he senses them slipping into nightmares instead. He tells himself it's not selfish to erase them for you, but the truth is that he's not sure he can stomach seeing his own face reflected in your dreams anymore, not with its wicked sneer and bloodstained teeth. He's not sure he forgives himself for what he did to you, and he wonders if you've truly forgiven him too.
Something odd in your dreamscape shifts suddenly and it catches Belphie's attention. The images in your subconscious grow murky and twisted, like they're being sucked down into some unseen void. Your presence is like sand falling through his fingertips, and it's harder and harder for him to feel you. He reaches out to your mind to wake you up because he doesn't know what's wrong, but something about this scares him. He jolts awake in the attic, chest heaving with the final memory of something snapping in his mind, like the cord that tethered you to him was suddenly cut. Eventually his brothers get up too and he can hear the commotion coming from down the stairs. He makes his way to your room in a trance before they can come find him. He already knows what his brothers are struggling to understand, the truth that no one can explain. You're gone somewhere far away, impossibly out of his reach, and he dreads falling asleep and feeling the void your absence left behind.
Sleep evades him until he forces himself to try and rest, and he finds himself in your bed instead of his own. He curls himself around your pillow underneath your sheets, clinging to the last whiffs of your scent, and he hopes you'll wake him up and tell him this was nothing but a bad dream. (Your scent fades away long before the nightmare ends, and he stops sleeping in your room after that.)
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read more: obey me masterlist
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erwinsvow · 28 days
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uuuh love the kook!best friend idea??? the trio would be so overprotective of her??? at keggers she would just make small talk with some pogues and they'll be 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️like right next to her!
- 🔮
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rafe is getting weirdly possessive over you, you think for a moment, standing near the keg and waiting patiently for your turn to get a drink. you don't think he's ever been so.... territorial. or maybe he has been, and you've just been ignoring it, thinking that he's been a really good, really close friend—looking out for you the way he does.
you can feel eyes burning holes into the back of your head, three sets of eyes in particular. your friends are funny—charmingly stupid, annoying arrogant, and a whole host of other things, but they've always been funny. it's why you guys get along so well, you return their jokes and comments at the same pace, more often than not even cracking jokes that make rafe break his stoic facade.
but he has been, you reflect, stepping up to whichever pogue is pouring the beer today—breaking his facade. you thought you were going a little crazy, thinking that he's actually being nicer to you, until kelce and top comment on it too. even today, he picked you up from your place first, letting you crawl into the front seat even though the other boys complain about being smushed in the back endlessly. he complimented your dress, even asked if it was new, which it was. he even got you your first drink without you asking for it, the strawberry seltzer that you're sure the pogues hosting didn't have lying around.
you feel surprisingly giddy about it—after all, you're still a girl, still their newer friend. like any other girl, you worry your new friends won't like you or that there's some ulterior motive going on. rafe's being a little weird, but he's always thinking about something that he doesn't talk about until days later. you think it'll pass like it always does.
"ah, ah," the blond pogue boy says—the cute one some of your girl friends buy weed from occasionally, when rafe can't deliver. "what's the magic word?"
you giggle at his antics, your worry about rafe floating away. you keep chatting with him, reaching in for the red cup twice, that he pulls up and over his head—impossible for you to grasp.
fifteen feet away, rafe watches jj tease you with the beer cup, jaw clenching while top and kelce see what he's staring at.
"see, boys. now that is not okay." he gestures to you with the cup in his own hand, watching your tiny dress ride up as you jump to get your beer from jj. "that pogue is disrespectin' our girl."
"rafe, i think it's just a joke-" top interjects, but he gets interrupted himself.
"nah, nah, man. these pogues. they think it's funny. i'll show him funny. c'mon." rafe stalks over, and the two boys follow. you don't notice but jj does, lowering the cup and staring at something—or someone—behind you.
"havin' fun, huh?" rafe questions, and you spin around. the jerk scared you—kelce and top surrounding you like bodyguards.
"guys, what are you-"
"i think she's all set, pogue. you can fuck off now."
"don't you have some store to rob?"
"guys, c'mon, it's a beer-"
"it's alright, princess, i see these three musketeers have an issue, so i'll just catch you around, hm?"
jj walks away, leaving the beer he poured for you on the log. you smile apologetically at him, fist clenching in anger at your stupid, stupid friends.
"you idiots. what the hell was that? i can't even talk to someone now-"
"what the hell's that mean, i'll catch you around?" rafe says, cutting you off. "you talkin' to that pogue?"
you pick up the beer and splash it over rafe's head.
"no, you asshole. it's a figure of speech and we live on the same island. jesus christ."
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luveline · 10 months
Text
𝐚 𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
you get embarrassed and miguel won’t let it go —featuring a smug miguel and a pining spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
"This is super, uber bad," Lyla drawls lightly. 
Miguel waves an annoyed hand at her, gaze on the orange monitor in front of him. You shift from foot to foot beside him, neck craned to watch in tandem. 
"Like, so bad. Maybe you should go help." 
"I can't intervene now," Miguel says. 
"How come?" you ask, pulling at the tips of your gloves one at a time as you worry, until the whole thing is slipping off and onto the floor. 
You make no move to pick it up. Miguel glances down at it, then the screen again before saying, "Because they'll never learn. And because there's too many fingers in the same pie." 
"Pie?" you ask. 
"You don't want that?" he asks, pointing at your fallen glove. 
You blink, pulled back to the present from your stewing anxiety. It's hard seeing people you care about getting their asses handed to them and knowing you can't help.
Miguel rolls his eyes, only half-making fun as he leans down for your glove. You lean at the same time, almost knocking your head into his as your fingers brush. Miguel looks up, suddenly face to face with you. Your breath catches in your throat at the proximity. You can see every dark lash hedging his eyes, feel the fanning of his exhale as it kisses your top lip. 
His confusion is obvious. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
"Uh– it’s nothing." 
His eyes narrow, your heart skips a beat, and while Miguel might not have a spider sense he's still enhanced. He must hear it. Something in his eyes changes, the smallest flicker of amusement relaxing his brow.  
You wince and stand up rigidly straight, face to the screen again so he can't see your flustered expression head on. "Nothing." 
"Sort of felt like something." 
"It's nothing, Miguel." 
"That why you forgot this?" 
You look down at his offered hand, your glove bunched up in his big palm. 
Your lips part of their own accord, any effort you've made to appear unaffected by him, his stature, and his general imposing demeanour now worthless. Too quickly, you snatch the glove from his hand and yank it back over your fingers, your pinky bending uncomfortably from the sheer force of it. 
"It's nothing," Miguel repeats without inflection, though he crosses his arms and chuckles a second later. 
You squirm beside him. "I– I'm distracted." 
"I can tell. Something caught your eye?" 
The urge to cover your face with both hands reaches an all time high. You settle for covering one flushed cheek. "Nothing interesting." 
"No? Well, we can change that." 
"Would you stop?" you ask, trying to sound furious but definitely bordering pleading. 
"I'm not doing anything. Nothing happened." 
"I wouldn't take that, if it were me," Lyla chimes in. 
"Good thing it's not you," Miguel says. 
Things are quiet for a while. Miguel refocuses on the fight unfolding on screen, and you try to calm your beating heart. The embarrassment refuses to wane, your pulse too stubborn to slow, and eventually Miguel must take pity on you, leaning toward you with arms crossed over his chest. "It wasn't that bad," he says.
"I don't know what you're talking about." 
"I'm trying to make you feel better." 
"You– I– you were so close to me, I got nervous, it– it has nothing to do with you." 
Miguel raises his eyebrows. "Oh, okay." He straightens up. "Nothing to do with me. You know I can hear your heart, right?" 
"Wow. Is that unique to you?" you ask scathingly, knowing every Spider in the whole headquarters can likely hear the drum of your heart right now. 
You know he's teasing because he finally managed to catch you in a moment of awkwardness rather than the other way around, and because he's an asshole —you think that part hard, hoping his enhanced hearing has improved to include telepathy. Like he can tell, he grins, and he nods at nothing in particular. 
"Don't worry, Spider-Girl. I won't hold it against you." 
"Generous," you say. 
His voice drops to a rough, lilting murmur, "People have said that about me. Tall, handsome, generous." It's impossible to miss the implication. 
Your heart rockets and you have to turn away from him entirely to maintain any dignity you have left. 
"You know what else they say?" Lyla asks. "That he's a smug, tightly wound control freak who's too busy being a bad sport, totally missing Jess' call for backup." 
"What?" Miguel asks, all smoothness dropped from his voice. "Respond!" 
"Say sorry to Y/N."
"Lyla!" 
"Say sorry–" 
"I'm sorry," he says to you. You're happy to find genuine apology in his gaze, if only for a second. "Lyla, respond." 
"Already did." 
Miguel gets so immediately angry that his head tips back and his eyes screw closed, grunting his dissatisfaction. You send Lyla a grateful smile, smothering a wave of laughs with your gloved hand. 
"Don't worry, Miguel," you say cheerfully. "I won't hold it against you."
"...Thank you."
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thanks for reading! i hope u enjoyed, pls reblog if u have the time! <;3 my other miguel fics
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appleblueberry-pie · 13 days
Text
YOU ARE EVERYTHING.
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Where: You were Satoru's young caretaker when he was a child being raised by the clan. You became everything he ever wanted, and when he needed you most, you were taken away by the people that made him who he is. He takes it to heart and sought out for you when he becomes an independent adult. (7 year age gap)
With you, he was nothing. With you, he wasn't a weapon. A gun with it's only purpose being to fire when it's trigger when it was pulled. With you, he wasn't a clan member, riches covering every inch of his floors and face. He wasn't the fear forced into those he faced, whether he liked it or not. He wasn't the balance of the planet he lived on. With you, he wasn't secretly scared. He wasn't silent. He wasn't silenced. He wasn't numb. He wasn't a thing. He wasn't an it. He was simply nothing. And being nothing with you made him become everything he could've ever hoped for.
He was a child, but he wasn't treated like one. And being his caretaker in such an....intimidating "home" made you sad for him. He was a blank canvas. He could've been rude to you. He could've spoken your ear off, threw things at you, berated you, cried, hid, smiled, anything. But he seemed so empty, alone, even though he was everything nature could've made him.
He was tired. You knew he was. A child shouldn't look at you the way he did when he first met you. So, in return, you gave him everything he deserved in hopes he'd realize that the way things are for him isn't how it is for everyone. And that he deserves a chance as well. At life, at living, loving, knowing and learning. So you cared.
I mean, it was your job to do it. It's in the name damnit. But that's not what they wanted you to do. You were just his baby sitter. Watch him for 5 hours a day, and they'll train him for 11 and then he sleeps for the rest. But with those 5 hours, you knew it could be more than just sitting around in his room or garden all day. So you attempted to incorporate some fun in every once and a while to try and get him to warm up to you.
You believe he was too used to people being there just to check on his well being; if he was living and breathing. So you gave some conversation crumbs. "Are you alright?", "Do you feel okay?" and the most difficult one, "How do you feel?" He would be a little taken aback by this last question(his face was still, but he would hesitate to answer). But he would answer, nonetheless. It felt like great progress knowing that he wouldn't flat-out ignore you. This was a great first step, in your opinion. And from there, you would continue talking to him.
Asking him how his day was during his lunch time. Offering to walk him around his place of living if he was bored of staying in his room. Asking if he wanted to wear something more comfortable if his traditional clothes bothered him too much. Making(one-sided) conversation while you cleaned his room. You would talk, but eventually, you would see him watching you talk as you cleaned.
About a few weeks later, he would finally warm up to talk back to you. Asking you questions about your little stories you'd tell him about your personal life. What would be provided during lunch that day, what he'd do once his break was over, asking how the weather would be. He'd also make requests that weren't the usual. Which includes the business his family would deal with that he's not usually provided with, if he could go with you while you did laundry across the hall, if he could stay with you during your break time, and....if you could help him with his assigned homework. He began to ask you to stick around while he did mundane tasks, and you realized how much of an impact you've made on his life just by being around and asking him to be present while you were there.
It took a month for him to become attached to you. You warned him multiple times that he shouldn't be so close to the women that are supposed to help around the house, and only help around the house. He didn't care and just wanted to stay by your side 24/7 when he realized how sweet affection could be, especially from someone as pretty and kind as you. You often snuck him little sweets from the kitchen, helped him read his favorite books, and you let him clean his room with you so that you two could spend more time together. You could tell he would always look forward to spending time with you and would nearly complain to his family when he had to go. Those 5 hours became less of a mindless bore and more of a mental exploration of what love and care truly is.
You were promoted to one of the head-maids in the house when his family realized how much easier it was to manage him when you were there to do it instead of the other women. He would comply so much more easier and obviously had a brighter look on his face when you came around to solve things that he was making hard for everyone else to deal with. Now, you were there when he woke up and went to sleep. You helped with his clothes and helped serve his lunch and his dinner. You made things easier for him to bare in the house. Which was your goal. You wanted him to be happy. And happy is what he finally was.
Days flew by with you there. Nights were softer and more beautiful when you were there towards the end of his day. Food tasted better, his training was easier to do and he felt something.
Something in his chest when you were around. It felt weird, but good at the same time. You often caught him rubbing his chest when you laughed at his sassy attitude and would see his ears turn pink. You'd tease him about him being shy and would pinch his cheek, which made his ears and neck turn red, which would make you laugh harder. It was nice having a friend for once, he would think.
But maybe he shouldn't have gave in to his desires. Maybe he should've pushed you away like he did when you first started interacting with him. Maybe he should've ignored his chest when it increased its beat when you came around. Because maybe then, his family wouldn't notice how much of an impact you've had on his life. Maybe they wouldn't separate you two since you guys loved being around each other so much. Maybe he should've ignored you when you told him with a sad face that you would only be around until tomorrow to pack your things.
If only he saw the way his own face dropped when those words slipped out of your mouth. The way his face when to horror, to sadness, to that stone cold look he's had for the longest time. You wanted to caress his face to soften the hard tension that resided in his forehead and cheeks. You wanted to hug him like he let you do when he wanted to cry so badly, but wanted to be a man. Well, a man is what they made him the moment they took away the one person that mattered to him.
When you left the clan house, you took his heart with him. But his devotion always stuck deep, deep in his stomach. And it wouldn't leave. He had never felt as angry as he did when you finally were escorted by car away from the home and his father had the nerve to tell him it was "for the best". He never clenched his fists so hard. Never wanted to wipe the tears off of his face so bad. But he didn't, in case you came back and wiped them off for him. Like you always did. But they dried on his face and remained until he washed his face in his bathroom alone. Too big for an 8 year old like him, but another person's presence would've been enough for him to ignore the empty, unneeded space.
And he remained that way. Alone. For years and years to come. And his yearning for you and your special care and love has been on the back of his mind as he continue to learn and grow, and he eventually became the weapon he was meant to be. He promised himself that he would never forget you. And he never forgot. He always remembered the warmth of your hands. The aura of your cursed energy, and how it felt when it lightly tickled his skin when he sat close to your side. How calm it made him feel. He never let himself forget, in hopes that he'd find you again one day. Little did he know that his efforts to remain in touch with the memories he had left wouldn't be done for nothing.
He couldn't believe his eyes. It was too dark. Too dark to see, but it was clear as day. That hair. That skin. That nostalgic scent and that energy. He ripped his blindfold off and felt his heart ache as it beats faster. "Whatthefuck." He muttered under his breath. It was cold and it certainly couldn't be comfortable like this. How long have you been here? Why were you here? Who did this to you? Was it really you? Was he dreaming?
He was informed of a missing sorcerer that hasn't been found in the past few weeks. Someone had hid you well with high security surrounding the area. No one could get in, so they obviously brought in their best weapon, him. He got through the "security" in a matter of seconds and reached you without so much as a blink of his eye. But you?? Why you? Is this what's been going on when he's been gone? You haven't gotten the strength to protect yourself so you go missing and let some nothings kidnap you and ruin your life?
He feels anger bubble in his stomach. Surprise and happiness surge his heart. The horror and confusion makes the rest of his emotions unbearable to handle. He doesn't know what to do or say. You're blindfolded, gagged, tied up and in thin clothing. From what he can see, they haven't done much but roughed you up and neglected you of things like food and water. Everything else seemed taken care of. Were they waiting for someone to bargain you back? The thought makes him grit his teeth and he'd rather not think about it. When he begins to undo your restrictions on your wrists and ankles, you let out noises of resistance and he tries to soothe you to tell you he's there to help you.
He removes your binds, your gag, and blindfold. You couldn't even hold yourself up, so he impatiently just teleports you back to his hotel room that was provided to him by the higher-ups for this mission. You immediately grow weak in the knees from the random moment of time-splitting transportation and drop to the floor, but he catches you. "I got you, I've got you. Let's get you on the bed, okay?" You're shaking in his arms and it takes everything in him to just not bombard you with questions and throwing past information on you to get you to remember him.
All you knew was that this random man that is intimidating the shit out of you with his cursed energy transported you to a hotel room after being tied up in a dark room all fucking week. A group of religious sorcerers out of nowhere asked you to join them one day when you were minding your own business at a flower shop. You declined and the leader stepped forward and dealt with you accordingly. You put up a great fight and his little family was going to step in, but you just couldn't get to him. So, he finished you first and kept you in a random dark room for 'safe keeping'.
But who was this? What was next after being kidnapped? Was he going to hurt you? Hurt you in ways the others hadn't? You hoped that for once in all of the time you had been held captive, that you'd finally catch a break and be given the necessities you needed to survive and be happy.
You blinked your eyes open, which was hard because the light from the ceiling-to-floor windows were nearly blinding you. The man had a tight grip on your arms and he continued to ask you questions about your well being that you couldn't understand at the moment. You scramble onto the bed and finally gain the sight and courage to look up at him. When your vision finally cleared, you were immediately flooded with memories of the past when you look into those familiar, tongue-numbing eyes.
You stared up at Satoru Gojo quietly for the first time in about 19 years.
.......That's right. It had been about 19 years since you last spoke. Years since you last gave up that life of following those dumb rules and took it upon yourself to teach yourself about the things they wouldn't tell you. To be better than they claimed you were. The byproduct of the people who nearly ruined your life was standing in front of you. No wonder you didn't like his energy. He had so much cursed energy oozing out of him that it made your muscles tense in a way it hadn't before. But that look in his eyes said something else entirely.
".....?" He wanted to say something to you badly, but you looked so scared. You averted your gaze before clenching your teeth. "Where...where am I?" You pathetically croaked out the words. You hadn't had a drink of water in so long. Satoru immediately rushed to the one on his night stand and opened it for you, giving it to you. You eyed the bottle, hand hesitantly reaching out. But you took it anyways, your drive for a drink overtaking your paranoia.
Most stress in your body faded when you drank the delicious mineral water and drained it in one go. Once you finished, you heaved a sigh in relief, the empty bottle hitting the ground. "You're in my hotel room. It wasn't safe where you once were. So, I just took you here."
You don't know if the man in front of you is still the boy you grew to love. But what you did know is that for the time being, you'd have to put your trust in him. You aren't healed, and you don't want any sorcerer government of any kind to know about your possible return. You'd have to ask him for help.
Satoru was more than happy to help you in any way he could. For so long, he was searching for you. His heart nearly broke into pieces when he kept searching, kept searching, and you just wouldn't be there. Not outside his door when he woke up. Not there when he would cry himself to sleep some nights with pounding headaches. And not there when he plainly lifted his head to the sky for forgiveness. He needed you. And here you are, needing him. And that look on your face was all he needed to know that this was his chance at redemption. To rebuild what once was broken. And to eventually gather warmth from being in your arms once again.
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apfelhalm · 8 months
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Okay so about the DB post. Do germans hate DB? Because danes hate DSB so so much (which i kind of think is unfair? at least in my experience) and we have this idea that DB is much better but this is the second time in like a month that i hear/see smth i think says the exact opposite. so can you like... talk a bit about DB? I'd like to know more 😅
Oh. OH. This might be the funniest ask I've ever gotten! 😂 Germans love to hate the DB! It is notoriously known for:
being late most of the time (especially on long distance rides)
therefore causing people to miss their connecting trains and reaching their destinations even later
just generally being bad at organisation and handling trouble on their routes
failing AC in summer
being surprised there's snow in winter
(the list goes on)
Generally, they're perceived to be a little ... incompetent at their job. When people have a journey coming up, they'll preemptively say something like: "wish me luck nothing goes wrong with my train ride". Mocking the DB is kind of a national sport and you'll find hundreds of memes about the DB's tardiness and bad handling of said tardiness. Here's a little selection from tumblr:
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To be fair, German's do love to complain about everything and I guess it could be worse? Personally, I feel like other countries' train companies appear to be better managed, but that could be a case of "it's always greener on the other side"(?)
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simpleeindulge · 3 months
Text
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What You're Getting for Valentine's Day!
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Info: Fem/reader x One Piece Men, Monster Trio, Eustass Kid, Trafalgar Law, fluff, minor suggestive ideas, soft Headcanons
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He's no Casanova, but the man does pay attention.
While Sanji, Nami, and Usopp are trying to hook him up with the usual stuff, Zoro will get you something you want.
That journal and pen set you liked, that hairpiece you thought was cute, or even the shoes you thought would look good with a dress you haven't worn yet.
He doesn't do it to be different or because he thinks the day is dumb, which he does; he does it because he knows you will like it (and prove to the cook that he does know something about romance).
But yes, he will give you all the gifts the rest of the crew had ready for him anyway.
His gift surprises you because you don't think he pays attention, but the man does.
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Now, he is new to this and does and does not get it. He loves you every day, so why is today different. After getting schooled by Franky, Usopp, and Sanji, Luffy is on board. (Nami offers help, but the boys tell her they got this.)
What follows is some chaos. He will beg Sanji to show him how to make chocolates, ask Usopp to help make a teddy bear, and beg Nami to find an island so he can find flowers. (Robin did offer hers, but Luffy wants to do this on his own.)
What you get is truly something from the heart. A box of lumpy-looking chocolate hearts, a bear that, for some reason, shoots lasers (Franky's idea), and a bouquet of poisonous jungle flowers.
It's hard not to smile at Luffy when he looks proudly at you with his gifts.
You know Luffy cares, and it feels good to see that he had fun treating you.
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The whole nine yards and then some. You're drowning in chocolate and smuttered with flowers. It's so bad that the other men beg Nami to dock the ship so they can escape. (They'll be back later for the food.)
That's fine by him because he has other things planned for you, starting with a long white box with a dark red bow.
Yes, it's lingerie, but it's good quality and something you would wear.
He'll romance you into it by making you a bath, lighting candles, and setting out all your favorite lotions and oils.
The man may be a pervert, but he knows how to turn up the charm and treat you special.
You're basically going to have the Valentine's Day the stores wish they could promote.
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Valen-what-now?! HaHAHAHhahaaa!
Okay, but seriously, Kid is going to that guy who remembers at the very last minute and could give a shit.
Killer is your savior in this department because he knows how to speak "Kid" and what could motivate him. You and sex.
Expect lingerie, flavored oils, heels, jewelry, strawberry chocolates, whipped cream (you know why), silk rope in your favorite color, and candles (to be used differently if he can talk you into it.)
Killer will help set the mood with roses and candles(different ones) and leave the rest to Kid.
Kid may be a rough diamond, but he knows how to turn on the charm, and you won't see it coming till it's too late.
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I would laugh here as well, but Law is an intelligent man. Happy girlfriend equals...PEACE!
He'll do the three essential gifts and think that he is set. It should keep you happy, right?
Well, it will, but after getting a second option from Ikkaku, Law is shocked to learn that he is boring with his lazy Valentine’s wooing. His gifts are fine, but he has no other plans, just the usual daily work!
In a panic, Law will rethink his plan just in time to order the ship to find land. He'll ask you to go with him to a nice restaurant and maybe a walk to see the sunset.
It's cheesy and still predictable, but you love it because Law does not leave his comfort zone for anyone except you (and Bepo). While the flowers are lovely, his time and attention are a better gift.
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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months
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Hello!
How do you leave a good comment on a work when you notice a large error? Or a small error,m I get so nervous to leave a comment nowadays because not many people have clear statements regarding criticism. So, I'm hesitant to point out anything out/ leave a comment that's anything but positive.
I remember a few months ago, on a BNHA work, I corrected the timeline of canon events that author got wrong (because the WIP seemed to be going down that route of "canon adjacent" work that spawn from a canonical event). The author had a message beneath the chapters that "all comments were welcomed," so I thought it was okay to leave the type of comment I did. But I dealt with several aggressive messages from the author and the author's friends about needless critique and how rude I came off as afterwards (I apologized,but I still got messages for a while).
The whole thing freaked me out a bit because I hate any semblance of confrontation ,so now I'm nervous about commenting any work- even those with explicit statements on criticism (welcome ,not welcomed,etc). I leave kudos and such ,but sometimes I debate over whether or not the author needs my comment about their typos. I try to sandwich a critique between two compliments like everyone says,but then I end up with a paragraph-length comment, and I worry about coming off too strongly.
I'm rambling,sorry.
Is there a guide to good comments for criticism in fanworks? Besides not giving criticism when criticism would not be welcomed??
Thank you for your time.
First of all, I'm sorry that you had such a bad experience. I'm sure that was awful for you, and I totally understand why it would freak you out.
When it comes to correcting things in fanfic, there are a lot of things to take into account.
Why does correcting the error matter to you?
How well do you know the author?
How long would it take to make the correction?
There are others, but these are the bigger "buckets" I see most of them fitting into.
If the error matters to you because you get annoyed when you see typos, for example, then that's more of a "you" problem. You can download the fic and edit out the typos and then when you reread it, you won't have to worry about them.
If the error matters to you because you'd be embarrassed if you had posted a fic and there were typos in it, that's also kind of a "you" problem. If the author feels the same way, they'll likely have an author's note indicating that they want to be notified. Otherwise, they're likely resigned to the idea that typos will happen, and if they reread their work themselves, they'll edit them out if and when they catch them.
If the error matters to you because it's non-canonical, this one is more of a wait and see. Maybe the author made the error by accident, but it very well could be on purpose. Perhaps that small change is relevant to the overall plot they're developing. Maybe it's just a thing that they personally hate in canon and have decided that they don't want to include for that reason. Maybe it's a genuine error that they'd be horrified to notice later. There's no way to know.
And that last one is where we come to the second item above. If you know the author well, you can message them and have a chat and bring it up there. I'd recommend just starting out by talking about the story as a whole and what their plan is for it. As I said, maybe what you see as an error is actually a conscious choice that they've made for the story that they want to tell. During that conversation, you'll be able to figure out whether it's actually an error and whether they'd want it pointed out or not.
If you don't know the author well, you could point an error like that out in a comment but then you need to think about the third factor.
Typos take seconds to change. Plot points take hours, days, weeks, or longer. Asking someone to put in a lot of time to make a change to something they've already been working hard on can be really demotivating - even crushing.
For a lot of authors (possibly even most?) they put a lot of work into their fics before they ever get to the point of posting them. They've read, revised, planned, and plotted. They might even have additional chapters already written that are in the revision process and just haven't been posted yet.
Especially in long works, authors look to the comments as a cheering section to urge them on towards completion, so posting corrections or pointing out errors can feel like someone standing up and booing. I think that's what happened in that BNHA situation you referenced in your ask.
That's why the general suggestion when it comes to commenting with corrections is just to not do so. If you want, you can comment about all of the things you like in the fic and then ask if the author wants a beta. That would allow you to have those conversations about their vision for the fic, and it would also allow you to offer feedback before the work is posted and while it's still being edited and worked on.
Otherwise, if it really does bother you, I'm afraid you might just need to dip out and find a different fic.
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tabithatwo · 1 year
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are we ready to talk about shauna's barely hidden but somehow very ignored psychosis and how it, like a ton of her other qualities, is brushed aside by both those around her and the audience? like, i think its clear that a central focus of the show is the way lottie is the only one who got stuck in a facility (and natalie in and out of rehab being the next closest to reckoning with her shit) when the rest of them are very clearly not okay. as a certified Crazy Girl, i've been weary of how they'll handle lottie's story line (blurring psychosis and the supernatural is a very delicate and tricky thing and thus far i've been sort of just waiting to see where it goes). our data on and understanding of mental health is incredibly limited for a lot of reasons (but that's a rant for another time) but there is a large mainstream misconception of when hallucinations and delusions can happen. psychosis isn't just something that happens in schizophrenia and its very complex, so if you want to learn more there's plenty of info out there i'm not going to get into it here, but it happens in a lot of other cases. psychosis is, most simply put, a loss of contact with external reality. ptsd can cause psychosis, especially auditory and visual hallucinations.
so shauna is shown to have these experiences and i didn't realize that they were being so heavily overlooked by a large amount of people until the reaction to the scene where she beats lottie nearly to death. shauna is introduced in s1 as having hallucinations of jackie 25 years later. she is shown to disassociate. in 207, she both holds the baby's body and believes the delusion that they ate the baby. the episode shows her fighting the delusion until she can't anymore. meanwhile, adult shauna tells lottie she keeps callie at arms length out of "fear that she would die...i guess? or maybe that she was never even...real to begin with." then she adds "i think something is broken, lottie." implied: she's broken. something is wrong with her. this is the is the most honest about her mental state we've ever seen shauna be.
why? because lottie has always been and likely will always be perceived as crazier. lottie is the one they pin it on, lottie is the cult leader both then and now, lottie is the scapegoat, lottie is the one who got sent to switzerland. i think there's something to be said for the effect lottie has on people (again, a whole other post) but honestly, that alone is enough. shauna is feeling vulnerable for a lot of reasons and she can tell lottie that she thinks she's crazy, that she's never quite sure her daughter exists, that she's constantly afraid she'll die to the degree that she doesn't let herself interact with her in a real, tangible way, because it's always safer to tell the crazy girl you're crazy, too.
and lottie knows. shauna knows that. lottie clocked her psychosis almost immediately, when she was in the meat shed for all hours. the other girls were shocked by the makeup, and their shock was so fucking strange to me when i watched it, but now on reflecting i'm realizing maybe its the lottie effect. like, have i done the shit shauna has? abso-fucking-lutely not lol. but does my mind work in a way where i immediately would assume shauna was doing something along the lines of the shit she was doing out there, because to me its like...what else would it be? yeah. like sees like, in a way. lottie knows what this looks like at baseline, even if its coming out way different in shauna. even if in shauna it looks like aggression and violence a lot of the time. lottie gets it.
jeff doesn't get it, he thinks strawberry lube is too wild. taissa gets it to a degree, and we see shauna be the second most open with her, but tai suppresses and hides it a degree that she wouldn't dare step foot in a therapist's office (this is yet another thing that makes me crazy but is a whole other post lol). shauna's main goal in this life she's created is pretending to be normal. and she's like, impressively bad at it. but people let her, because what else are they going to do? addressing the clear issues is taboo, because we categorize people so heavily. she masks better than lottie, but it's fucking wafer thin. you see this when she interacts with people who aren't her family or the other yjs. the way she speaks to the taylors? to adam? shauna is only sometimes masking passably when she's in her set world, where she has a routine, and is surrounded by people she only has to half-convince of her sanity.
if shauna is honest about the level of psychosis she experiences, she knows she'll end up like lottie. and i think there's an argument to be made that the people around her (which at this point in her life is pretty much just jeff because she's done another common thing and insulated herself from other people, re: the way she behaves being clockably off to others who won't overlook certain things or can't relate) understand that too. it can't be addressed, because then in their minds there must be action of some kind if it is. (taissa yelling you're acting crazy, shauna is one of the most purely terrified moments we see of her in relation to shauna, because she knows she's admitting something. jeff yelling something to the same effect after the carjacking, same thing.)
the person we see try to get shauna to open up about it is callie. her teenage daughter, who bares the brunt of her difficulty maintaining reality, (who knows that shauna has never accepted her fully as her child, and seems to actually sense that there is a deeper reason for that), asks her to open up. she tells her after the club scene that she knows something is wrong. she even mentions jackie directly. she spends all of s2 trying to relate to shauna, to get her to be open with her about everything. there's no way shauna's trauma and psychosis and general issues have gone unnoticed by callie. daughters always know. they see it in their mothers before they even have a concept of the world. so we're watching a 16 year old try to get her mom to open up, because she doesn't understand fully why that's so dangerous to shauna. to callie, it may even be a secret she thinks other people are in on that she's being left out of. i think maybe she's realizing that it isn't personal and that shauna is guarded like this in general, and we're watching that happen.
callie is learning to care for and relate to her mother and she doesn't see why shauna won't let her in, because to her it's an innate truth that she'll be by her side no matter what (if only she'd let her be). she has unconditional love for her mother and that is the scariest thing in the world to shauna, because the last person who had unconditional love for shauna died because shauna didn't know what to do with it. a baby she never got a chance to meet in reality could've replaced the love that jackie gave her, and shauna was maybe starting to look forward to that, but that ended before it began. so twice shauna has killed that figure in her life. the one who loves her wholly and for who she is, which is terrifying to shauna in it's own right (she tried to take that away from jackie in their last moments, maybe you never really knew me, because that would be easier. shauna can't handle someone really knowing her because she can't handle really knowing herself because, again, that means addressing things that go unaddressed). and she doesn't plan on killing that figure again.
(if callie's even real, because the baby wasn't real when she met him and jackie wasn't real every time she's talked to her in the last twenty-five years, so who the fuck is to say callie is real?)
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perfectly-imperfect82 · 3 months
Text
Found
You were wandering the streets of Manchester with you group of runaways, looking for a place to set up for the day.
The next moment you felt your arm getting pulled on.
"It is you" Jill said in shock as she held your arm as you stared back with wide eyes at the Dutch football player.
"I can't believe it, everyone looked for you in London" Jill said as you continued to stare back not saying anything.
"Are you okay? Let's go get some food. We need to call Daan and Beth" Jill rambled, the mention of Daan and Beth getting you over your shock as you quickly pulled your arm out of her grasp and took a step back. Feeling guilty at the panic that now took over her face, realizing a second to late as you took off running, hearing her yell after you as you disappeared into the crowd, you group following close behind you.
~
You were hanging out in a park, planning out how your group was going to get money this week
"There's groups of people walking around showing a picture of you. Asking if anyone has see you" one of the older guys was saying
"What?" You thought confused. There is no way, after only a day that Jill had people looking for you.
"They'll give up soon" you said nonchalantly you said closing your eyes and hoping to get a quick nap in to fight the cold you developed over night.
"I don't think so" he said, "they are heading this way" causing you to open your eyes in a panic. I'm not going back into the system.
"I'll catch you guys later at the usual spot" you said getting up and trying to walk away without getting notice. Sparing glances their way to make sure they didn't see you.
"Fuck" you mumbled making eye contact with Millie, taking off at a run when she started for you
"Wait!" Millie yelled
"Come on kid, we aren't going to give up" Rachel yelled
You felt your body slowing down due to lack of food and illness that was wrecking you body, but you pushed yourself to continued running
"Gotcha" Rachel said grabbing you arm and yanking your body into hers as she wrapped your body in her arms to prevent you from running away again.
"Let go you" you stated as you fought in her arms
"Your coming with us for some food and a chat" Rachel said
"Not going"
"Fine, the hard way" Millie said as she threw you over her shoulder, a little concern with how light you were
"Let go of me" you hissed as Millie held you securely.
"Nothing to worry about here. Just returning a runway kid home" Rachel said calmly to by standards who were giving them suspicious looks.
"At least let me walk" you grumbled feeling fatigue starting.
"Don't trust you not to run" Millie said giving you a gentle squeeze. You give up and relaxing into her hold.
"Katie and Mary are the way to get us" Rachel said as Millie continued to hold you.
A few minutes later a car pulled up and Millie placed you in your feet.
"You said you wanted to walk" Rachel said, pointing for you to get in the car. With glare, you followed Millie into the car and took the middle seat as Rachel followed in right behind you
"So what have you been up to?" Mary asked turning to look at you but you only looked away
"They've missed you, you know." Katie said, only causing you to turn to glare out the window. All the women now understanding you didn't want to talk.
The ride to Jill as quick as they parked outside an apartment complex.
"Coming?" Rachel asked as everyone got out of the car but you remained seated.
"Looks like it's my turn to carry you" Mary said reaching into the car and gently pulling you out before throwing you over her shoulder and carrying you into an apartment building.
You heard them knock on the door before it was quickly opened. Mary walking in first and setting you down on couch.
You looked around to several of the lionesses, Manchester, and arsenal players around the apartment who all looked shocked to actually see you.
"You don't look too good" Leah said gently placing a hand to your forehead as she took a seat next to you.
"Minor cold, it will pass" you grumbled moving her hands away.
"Jill, you've got a thermometer?" Kim asked causing Jill to nod and run off to grab it before rushing back.
"Open your mouth" Jill said holding the thermometer in front of you as you just stared back.
"Don't make Millie and I hold you down, because we will" Rachel said causing you to open your mouth for the thermometer and wait for the beep.
"39" Jill said looking over at Leah and Kim
"Symptoms" Kim said looking at you for a straight answer "just answer her" Leah said looking sternly at you.
"Body ache, headache, and kinda a cough" you mumbled.
"I'll be back with medicine" Kim said as you went to protest.
"No" Rachel said causing you to roll your eyes.
"Here is some food" Jill said placing pasta in front of you, causing your mouth to water at the sight of it
"Who cooked it?" You asked causing Jill to give you the really look.
"What? I had to make sure it wasn't someone with no cooking skills, like Leah or you."
"Chole cooked it so your good."
"Thank you chole" you said giving her a genuine smile, "no problem."
You started to slowly eat your food.
"So, is there a reason you kidnapped me and brought me here?" You asked as you ate, causing everyone who was here to go quiet.
"Daan and Beth are coming, aren't they?"
And the looks around the room only confirmed it causing you to nod as you took another bite of food before setting the bowl down on the table.
"No, you'd don't" Millie said as you took off to run, having a good grip on your arm to pull you back to sit on the couch, causing you to glare at her.
"I'm doing this out of love" Millie said as she wrapped an arm around you as Leah placed a hand on your knee to keep you in place.
Everyone sitting in an uncomfortable silence until the door open, catching everyone attention. Beth and Daan rushing in and freezing in the door way when they saw you.
There was a beat of stillness as we looked at each other before they were rushing towards me, the others moving out of their way.  You froze at the feeling of happiness at the sight of them but also at the fear of what was to come with them seeing you. "It's you" and " Oh my God" repeated from both of them.  Beth reached you first, taking your face between her hands, a light touch that turned into a fierce grip once she seemed to accept that you were standing in front of her.
"It's really you" Beth said as Daan eyed your reaction as you bit you lips to hold in your emotions as you nodded back.
"You're burning up" Beth said concern as you took a step back from her as Daan took one forward, looking at you closely before looking back at the girls. 
"Kim is picking up medicine for her" Leah said causing Daan to look back at you as you gave her a challenging look back to not touch you. All your walls that you've built since they left you building back up.
"Why don't we give them some space" Leah said, ushering people out of Jill apartment.
"We will be back later" Jill said, "please don't run off before I kid back" she continued as she gave your hand a squeeze as she left
"If you do, Millie and I will find you and carry you back again" Rachel said before shutting the door, leaving you with Beth and Daan.
Once the girls left, you took a moment to really look at the two women in front of you. Not much has physical changed on both women, but you that in the past year that a lot has changed in both of their lives. The same could be said for you and the lifestyle you currently live.
"Why don't we have a seat?" Daan asked once you saw she had finished looking you over.
"How long are you guys going to keep me here?" You asked looking at them as they looked back at you confused.
"What do you mean?" Daan asked.
"I have places to be" you stated vaguely.
"You aren't going anywhere. You're sick and need to rest. Once your better, we will figure a plan for you" Beth said.
"We? I have a plan."
"We aren't letting you back on the streets. You are coming home with one of us" Daan stated.
"No, I'm not"
"Yes, you are" Daan replied sternly as you glared.
"It's been over a year since I've talked to either one of you! You don't get to tell me what to do anymore!"
"You ran away, and we couldn't find you!" Beth said.
"You went on vacations and won the euros, what was I supposed to think? I hung around the system for months and I didn't hear from either of you. I wasn't going to suffer in a crappy foster home forever while you lived you lives without me in it." you replied harshly, watching the hurt reflect on both of their faces.
"We were fighting for custody of you!" Daan exclaimed.
"It didn't feel that way!" You yelled before falling into a coughing fit causing Beth to steady you and gently pat you back and you shoved her hands away, not missing the hurt that flashed across Beth face.
"I'm fine" you said as you felt their concern and worried faces following your movements before sharing a look. Knowing they needed to tell you and the sooner the better, before you managed to run off again.
"What is it?" You demanded.
"What?" Daan asked confused.
"Your faces, I can tell you want to say something. So, what is?"
"We've adopted you" Beth said hesitantly as you stared at them with wide eyes, processing this information.
"You are officially a mead-van de donk" Daan said gently with a small smile.
Your eyes started burning with the tears you were holding back at the mix of emotions that started running though you.
"Seriously?" You whispered, fearing you missed heard them.
"Yes, it's time for you to come home" Beth said.
"You still want me after all of this time?" You asked confused.
"Like we told you before you left. We are never going to stop loving you, no matter what" Daan said holding her hand out for you. Allowing you to take the first step at your pace.
You looked at her hand then back at their faces, debating if you could trust them again. Last time didn't end well but you did miss them. This time would be different you; you are official theirs was repeating in your head as you watched Beth now also hold her hand out to you.
"Please come home" Beth begged, and that was when you let your walls down, rushing into their arms. Relief flooding both women at having you in their arms after what felt like forever.
"We love you so much" Daan said placing a kiss to your forehead, "Kim really needs to get back with that medicine" she continued, not liking how hot your head was.
"So, how'd you decide whose last name went first?" You asked with a smirk as you watched Daan roll her eyes as Beth grinned.
"Finish your food" Daan grumbled, handing you your bowl and directing you sit back on the coach, Beth and Daan sandwiching you in the middle of them.
"Rock, paper, scissors?" you asked, knowing that you were right as she jokingly glared at Beth who was still smiling, "The only way to handle a decision."
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barefoothighlander · 1 year
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could you do ghost being with someone on the team who’s just so innocent and naive it makes him wonder why they chose the job she has, like her callsign is angel, she puts her hair in braids when she’s allowed to, she puts little bows in her hair sometimes, she’s respectful etc
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of course :) here's a quick little drabble I hope it fits what you had in mind
warnings: fluff, description of violence, mention of alcohol, mention of blood
The team got called in around midnight, everyone making their way to the base as quickly as possible, Ghost and you got there around 12:13, your appearances as a stark contrast to each other. He's drenched in black, face hidden from prying eyes behind the skull, looming and feared, you, on the other hand, showed up with your hair pulled back into french braids that ended in small buns behind your ears, a tank top covering your chest that had a small bow sitting between your breasts.
The two of you made your way into the conference room, Ghost finding his usual spot on the back wall while you greeted the team.
"G'mornin Angel" Soap greets, purposely avoiding Ghost's glare while he shamelessly eyes your form, "Little frilly for the field no?" He says pointing toward your top, you playfully push at his shoulder as you find your seats.
Price had given your mission assignments, a small hideout in the States was housing illegal weapons and you had to reclaim them.
You changed into your tactical gear and got into the plane, sitting between Ghost and Soap, fortunately, Soap liked to talk so the ride went quickly, the two of you chatting about your home life, Soap had recently gotten a dog and you were completely jealous, Simon designating your home pet free for the time being.
You landed and got started on the mission, following as Ghost took lead, clearing the building without a hitch while you followed behind, shooting down anyone in your sights. There were a few more enemies than you expected, having to use your knife on a few, effectively covering your gear in blood.
You completed the mission, boarding back onto the plane to return home, Ghost stares at you, the spatter of blood covering your soft cheek, it always confused him, why you decided to join the force, you were so soft, delicate when you were with him, he trusted your capability in the field, your skill saving his life a few times, but off the field, you wouldn't hurt a fly.
Touching down on base you decide to take a shower before going home, not wanting the dirt and blood on you to stain or transfer onto anything. You step out a few minutes later noticing Ghost sitting on one of the benches in the locker room.
"You know you can't be in here"
"Wanted to make sure you were okay"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
He shrugs, turning and handing you a bag of clothes, you grab it and begin dressing yourself, brightly coloured sweats tugged onto your body before you cover your chest with a lace-trimmed tank top.
"That's why"
You furrow your brows in question.
"You're just very, innocent"
"Innocent?"
"I've seen you take out a room of men without breaking a sweat yet when we're home, everything is daisies and bows, it confuses me how you can be so kind and warm with a job like this"
You think about his words,
"It confuses me how somehow as nice as you would want to be with someone like me"
"Simon,"
You move forward to hold his face in your hands, a soft smile on your face, "My job is bloody and violent, and that's exactly why I am the way I am, it's nice to be - what'd you call it? Soft - it lets me forget about all the horrible things out in the world"
You reach down to kiss him, "And in regards to you, you aren't a dark person, you're thoughtful, generous, funny" You emphasize each word with a kiss.
"I just don't want them to take advantage of you," He says
"I doubt they'll even try when you're five feet away from me"
He huffs a laugh before the two of you make your way into the hall, greeted by the rest of the 141
"We're all going to the pub, care to join lovebirds"
Ghost grimaces at Soaps term,
"Of course," You say
You spend a few hours in the bar, the men all sipping on variations of whiskey while you sit with some fruity concoction between your hands.
"So what's with the bows," Soap asks, his words slurred
A small huh comes from you,
He gestures his hand in your direction, "Last week, you showed up with wee bows in your hair"
"Oh, um, I just thought they looked nice," You say suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.
"They were cute lass"
A small smile creeps onto your face, "Well thank you"
"Can't have them in the field" Price says
"Of course Captain" You nod at him, trying to be serious but a small fit of giggles overtakes you, your laughter transferring to Soap and Gaz as they start laughing.
"I'm serious, your callsign might be Angel but you can't be skipping around on a mission"
You nod at him, feeling Ghost's hand on the small of your back while he leans into you,
"I think it's time we head home," He says, turning to look at the team now getting tired, you nod at him.
"We're gonna head out, see you all tomorrow" Your words are met with boos from Soap and Gaz,
"C'mon lass we've barely started"
"Johnny you're half asleep"
"Am not LT"
You giggle at the exchange, Ghost's arm snaking around your waist before pulling you out,
"G'night Angel!" Soap yells and Ghost lets a small grunt leave his mouth,
"Be nice Simon"
"I'll knock that stupid haircut off his head if he keeps flirting with you"
You laugh at his words, resting your head against his form while the two of you make your way home.
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