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kiwisa · 1 year

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name(s) of love ✩ cl16

Charles Leclerc x Fem! Girlfriend! Reader

fluff • smut(ish) • 1,500 words

IN WHICH... love takes on many forms and many names.

✩ “MON AMOUR…” in everyday life.

“Can you pass me the salt, mon amour?”

With one hand, the other stirring the sauce, Charles vaguely pointed to the location of the saltshaker, which you hastened to hand over. He murmured a distracted “thank you” and seasoned the meat before turning down the heat and covering the pan with the lid next to it.

You watched in silence as his shoulders tensed with every movement, the muscles of his arms drawn deliciously against his shirt. A strand of hair bounced on his forehead at each movement, wet from the steam of the pots on the hob. A scrunchie, one of yours, was pulling back his hair ⏤ which had been falling in front of his eyes ever since he began his task ⏤ into a ridiculously little ponytail.

After giving the sauce a final stir to let it reduce, Charles wiped his hands on his white “kiss the cook” apron ⏤ a gift you were very proud of.

“I love to watch you cook,” you said as you approached.

You let your hands graze his arms up to his shoulders and placed them on either side of his neck. It was impossible to resist the urge to kiss it. You pecked at every bit of skin, stopping at a few tender spots that your nights with him had revealed.

“Yeah?” he pulled you to him, careful not to bring you too close to the fire, and leaned his head back to give you more room. His hands gently tickled your ribs before moving down and squeezing your ass. He left them there, chastely, happy to receive so much attention.

“Hmm,” you nodded, far too busy loving on him to give him a real answer.

“I think you're far more interested in the food than me, mon amour.”

Oh, you'd devour him over any meal in this world.

✩ “MON COEUR…” when he’s tired.

“Mon coeur, come to bed,” Charles whined.

“One more chapter, honey, and I'm yours.”

Your eyes were beginning to burn, assaulted by the artificial light of the table lamp next to the couch. The dark night had long since darkened the sky. Despite the pain, the letters that ⏤ little by little ⏤ were becoming blurry, the sentences that only made sense if you read them twice, you couldn't bring yourself to close the book. You had started it three days ago, and as the last chapters were drawing nearer and nearer, you couldn't go to sleep without knowing the end of the story, without knowing if the protagonist would survive.

You knew it had been a trying day for Charles, as media day usually was: one interview after another, this time for magazines, and the many videos he had to shoot for various YouTube channels had dealt the final blow to his energy.

“You said that six chapters ago.”

A grimace pulled at your face. You immediately felt terrible, even more so when you saw him, at the entrance to the corridor, wrapped up in the quilt, his eyes reddened by fatigue, his hair in all directions. A painting as touching as heart-breaking. They were overworking him.

“Mon coeur, please,” he tried again.

His shiny green eyes were enough to make you give in. Morning and evening, he rejuvenated before your eyes when, around him, the arms of Morpheus imprisoned him. How could you resist his face?

Gently, you folded the corner of your page before placing the book on the coffee table. You couldn't take three steps before Charles wrapped you in the duvet, holding you tightly against him. Your eyes were blocked by the quilt and by his chest, so you did not see the dark look he gave your book, as if it was responsible for all his misfortunes.

He guided you to the bedroom like this, never letting go of you except to close the door. You could not hide your smile at his cuteness, which he took as mocking.

“Stop making fun of me.”

“I didn't say anything.”

He pushed you down on the bed, watching your body bounce on the mattress before dropping onto you. The weight of his body cut off your breathing for a moment but you said nothing, understanding what Charles was craving.

Contact.

His head nestled against your breasts; his eyelids closed at once. Your skin against his, he could forget the worries of the day. He could suddenly breathe with your heartbeat giving the tempo for his to follow. Your fingers slipping into his hair, smoothing them, anything to soothe him.

There was no sound to disturb this tender moment, except your breathing and perhaps ⏤ sometimes ⏤ the sound of a kiss dropped on his forehead.

You continued until his weight became heavier, a sign that he had fallen asleep.

“Goodnight, honey,” you murmured.

Very quietly, so as not to wake him, you picked up your phone. Immediately lowering the brightness, you clicked on the orange icon on your iPhone and, remembering the little number at the top right of the page, resumed reading your book, having bought it digitally.

As pretty as this boy was, you were not going to sleep without knowing the end.

✩ “MON ANGE…” when he’s sad.

Each sniffle broke your heart a little more, as your neck collected tear after tear. You tightened your grip on Charles's trembling body, trying to protect him from this world and its horrors. Seeing this joyous man who shared your life being tarnished by others drove you into a deep rage, one you kept secret.

It could wait.

The love of your life could not.

“It's going to be okay.”

You weren't sure. How could you control people's actions, their disrespect, and the power that anonymity gave them? Words hurt, even written on a phone screen.

Charles had walked in your Monte-Carlo flat in tears, after what should have been a fun night out with his mates. It had been hard to make out his words, cut off by heart-breaking sobs, but you got the gist of it: by showing a funny tweet about him, one of his friends had unintentionally confronted Charles with the hatred of bitter people who couldn't bear to see others succeed. His appearance, his behaviour, his driving. Everything had been a subject to criticize, but it was the third point that had been the coup de grâce; especially after the disappointing new car testing.

All it had taken was one comment to shatter into a million pieces what you had tried to keep intact.

“Mon ange, I–”

“It's okay,” you repeated, trying to convince him, and maybe you as well. “You don't have to talk if you don't want to.”

So, he didn't. You stood there, hugging in the middle of the living room, a few steps from the door that hid him from all his worries.

“I love you, mon ange,” he finally whispered.

“I love you too, my talented, beautiful, kind boyfriend.”

He managed to give you a shaky smile, which, if it bore the mark of deep sadness, reassured you somewhat. You stood on tiptoe and kissed him gently, as if to affirm your compliments, to anchor them on his mouth so that he, in turn, could believe them, say them.

It would take a little time to piece him back together, but you were nothing if not stubborn.

✩ “BÉBÉ…” when he’s in the mood.

“Bébé?”

Silence.

Charles straightened up a little more, his back against the headboard. He didn't take his eyes off your body, which was facing the opposite way. The moon had long since cast its bluish halo over the bed and was now illuminating your naked curves, which the white sheet did nothing to hide.

“Bébé?”

His fingertips brushed your knee, moved gently up your thighs – his pinkie sliding inwards more than necessary – and up your lower abdomen to your chest. Charles watched with delight as your body shivered at his touch, his heart beating furiously in his chest, temple, and crotch.

“Bébé?”

This time he shook you without delicacy, abruptly waking you from your deep sleep. You didn't like this one bit. Roughly pulling the quilt up to your neck, you buried yourself in it, ignoring the complaints of the man beside you. The masterpiece that was your body, now stolen from his dilated eyes.

Unacceptable, he thought.

His hand came to rest on your waist, squeezing it.

“What?” you asked aggressively, ready to sleep after an already eventful night. This man had far too much stamina for you. The still regular shaking of your legs was proof of that.

“I'm horny,” he whined.

“You're a fucking animal, Leclerc. That’s what you are.”

Your words may have had bite, but your thighs were already spreading for him to fit between them. Damn him and his stupidly beautiful, flushed face, and pouted lips.

Fucker.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #f1 fic #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc drabble #f1 rpf #formula 1 fic #formula 1 rpf #formula 1 x you

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k2ntoss · 3 months

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Hi, hi, hello <: first time sending an ask to anyone but I cant stop thinking of this rn and I feel like you'd appreciate the comedy of this. So like, this is definitely a more crackfic idea than anything, but I was just scrolling on amazon for Valentine's gift ideas and i found this, and the idea of gifting it to Jason?? peak comedy in my mind

Imagine lighting it right before he goes on patrol just to mess with him a little too...👀 I just think it has so much potential for so many shenanigans, y'know? 😁😁

(I've been lurking around for a lil bit, gotta say I love your writing btw, it's great)

PRETTY LATE BUT I'M HERE, i tried to write something nice for a few days but i just couldn't squeeze my brain. NOW, i feel so honored to be your first ask, it's just so special so i really hope my little drabble is enough <3 and thank you so much for your sweet words baby

at first you wanted to get jason a nice edition of one of his favorite books, one of those expensive pretty books with a hard cover and write a lovely letter to him but scrolling and looking around some pages that candle popped up and you just couldn't resist it so there were now five items on your shopping cart, the book, the candle and stuff to wrap everything up. ready for valentine's day and getting him a pretty surprise in which you worked in every night as he went out on patrol until the day before valentine.

for those who think jason isn't that much of a valentine's day enjoyer let me tell you how wrong you are, jason enjoys picking up things for you because he knows it makes you feel special and even if it turns out into being more of a commercial holiday jason knows taking people for granted is not a good think, it's so easy to lose your loved ones and he's in no way letting you go one day without knowing how much you mean to him. so as soon as you wake up you're met by a big and warm hug, a chaste kiss on your lips and a pretty gift box on your lap; jason looks at you with a wide smile when you open the box just to find that sweater you saw on a store a few weeks ago, the one you wanted to get but couldn't buy because you were on a rush "jay... you didn't had to, this is just perfect" and it's simple but there's just so much in the fact that jason had in mind how much you liked that sweater and kept it in mind for days.

"i had to, anything for my baby..." he says softly and a sweet chuckle escapes his lips when you kiss him, arms wrapped around his neck before letting go of him to stand up. jason's eyes are fixed on you, your figure moving around as you pick a gift box from the closet just to walk back to the bed, going to sit on his lap before placing your gift on his hands and looking at his reaction as he opens it, the smile on jason's lips as his hands caress the book before he picks up the letter and seeing his green eyes tear up a bit is just so heartwarming you can't help but to cup his face with one of your hands.

"you know? you're the best thing that has ever happened to me" he says, a soft giggle slipping through jason's lips as he looks up to hide the small tears that are pooling on his lashline and it makes you nod "i think you've said it a few times before" and it makes you smile when he leans into your touch, nuzzling his face against your palm. suddenly, you remember there's still one more box you have for him and you stand up all of the sudden to go get it and he looks curiously at you when you turn around, holding the box and smiling widely.

"what do you have there?" jason asks, a small grin on his face as he sits straight on the bed before looking to the screen of his phone. it was almost time for him to go get ready for patrol, late in the evening he is just waiting to have a little more time with his lover. "it's a little surprise for both of us but by the look on your face i guess you have to start gearing up, right?" you ask before placing the small box on the edge of the bed "you can start, it's a small surprise so i can show you while you get ready" and the smile on your lips mixed with your soft tone makes him feel so lucky to have someone as patient and understanding as you by his side.

he nods happily, getting out of bed to start pacing around the room while leaving soft pecks on your cheeks and temples when he walks next to you, small playful kisses on your lips when he stands in front of you to start changing his clothes. jason is being specially sweet and playful today and it just fuels the need to use that little new gift, it's just something you can't help but think when jason is stripping in front of you just to get into his black compression shirt and the tactical pants that just make his body look even hotter. as he starts putting onto his armor you sit, legs crossed on the bed as your hands hold the box with a wide smile "so can i steal your attention a little now?" and jason turns his head around to look at you before nodding, going to stand in front of you.

your hands toy a little with the pretty bow to open the box, revealing the not so small candle and the label on it and jason's face is a mix between a poem and a stream of ideas of how it can end up "babe– how do you plan on using that?" he asks, a low laugh escapes his lips and it sounds like a growl because of the ideas popping on his head "well, i think the idea is pretty clear" the playful smirk on your lips is driving him crazy but he has to go on patrol "are you gonna wait for me to come back? i'll try to be extra quick" and his voice sounds so excited, because it's what was missed to make this valentine's day the perfect one.

"extra quick? i wouldn't want you to get in troubles, jay..." you start but you know damn well he is going to insist "no, i will be back before you even notice" he rushes before leaning in to kiss your lips in a firm and deep touch, hands on your hips to push your body a little into the matress and any idea of making him go with his full patrol vanishes when he bites your bottom lip and grunts a little into your mouth.

he pulls away, triumphant smile on his face before he walks out of the room to get his helmet and you rush to put the candle on the little night stand next to your bed before lithing it in the exact same moment jason sets a foot back on the room, stopping on his tracks as soon as the smell of vainilla hits his nose "sweetheart..." he starts but his first instinct is to pick his phone up to call dick.

if he was going to ask for a favour he was going to make it worth it, you lit the candle and he really couldn't think of anything else to do. probably the best gift for you both because it could help him expend more time with you.

"dick, c'mon! i'll do anything you want me to, i swear it's important" you can hear his voice and the urge on his tone as he speaks on the phone "it's not my fault i actually have a valentine's date!"

it makes you chuckle because it only lets you know how much he wanted to accomplish what you were asking him and to wait a little for him your eyes drift to the label just to find out the candle could be used in a few more ways than just start an encounter.

"it's a dinner date, okay? we made reservations!" jason sounds almost desperate at this point.

"jay! it's a body wax candle! can we try wax play?" you ask, not even noticing your voice could be heard through his phone.

"so dinner date, huh? i don't want the details, i'll cover you with bruce"

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milfsloverblog · 1 year

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Life Eternal (part 1)

Can you hear me say your name forever?

Larissa Weems x former student fem!reader

A/N: Sapphic Yearning at its finest. Don’t fall for your teachers, kids, it will ruin ya! Might be inspired by real events…Title from one of my favourite Ghost song, which you should really listen to if you want to get the full experience. Thinking of turning this into a multiple chapter fic, let me know! <3

ps: really want to insist on the fact that Larissa and reader’s relationship was platonic. Larissa was nothing more than a mentor to reader.

You had been staring at the letter on your lap for the past twenty minutes. Reading it again and again, as if you had not read it a hundred times since receiving it nearly two weeks ago.

“Dear Miss…” You sighed loudly and pushed the letter away, your eyes falling on the signature at the bottom of the page “Sincerely yours, Larissa Weems.”

You emptied the glass of wine you’d poured yourself hoping to find some courage in it. Of course, you were expecting the invite to arrive at some point, it always arrived around the end of May. At least it had for the past five years.

Class reunions. You hated the mere thought of it. Surely the ones that used to be popular loved those reunions, but you…No, you couldn’t bare the thought of seeing her, not after leaving the way you had.

Would she recognise you, you wondered as you threw your jacket on and took a last look in the mirror. You hadn’t changed much in five years and it seemed like she hadn’t forgotten about you. And you definitely hadn’t forgotten about her.

You didn’t even know what made you change your mind after five years of not attending. Perhaps it was the fact that the letter had been handwritten this time instead of typed, or maybe you had been hypnotised by the scent of her perfume that lingered in your room after you’d opened the envelope.

Now that you thought about it, moving out of Jericho had been both a blessing and a curse. You hadn’t moved very far, only a twenty minutes ride, but it was enough to ensure you wouldn’t accidentally stumble on her while doing your grocery shopping.

It was silly, that need you’d felt to run away from Larissa. You knew it was silly and yet you couldn’t help yourself. You couldn’t have kept acting like she meant nothing more to you than a mentor.

———

“Mom, please…” You had pleaded with your mother, refusing to get out of bed. “I’m telling you I can’t go. I feel too sick.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. You did feel sick, but not physically. Your illness was way more insidious than a simple stomachache or a common cold.

“Principal Weems will be so disappointed not to see you.” Your mother had said, standing with her hands on her hips. “I’m sure the poor woman has been impatiently waiting to see you graduate. And now you will let a little sickness take that away from her?”

She always found a way to rub salt into your wounds, even unknowingly. She had no idea. She had no idea that Larissa was the reason why you were refusing to get out of bed that morning.

“Please.” You had said again “Just go and get my diploma. Tell her I will visit whenever I can.”

Now that was a lie. You knew you would never visit Larissa again. You’d made up your mind a while ago already.

Your mother had eventually given up and attended your graduation ceremony alone. Principal Weems had been nothing but professional, your mom had told you, although she’d noticed that Larissa’s smile had seemed a bit forced when she had explained that you were sick and couldn’t be there to receive your diploma.

—————————

You were snapped out of your memory by a car loudly honking behind you, signaling that the light had been green for a few seconds now. How long had you been zoning out for? You hadn’t been to Nevermore in five years and yet it seemed like your brain still remembered the road as if you had left yesterday.

The car park was already nearly full when you arrived and there was no doubt you would be one of the last invitees to show up.

A shiver ran down your spine when you walked through the gate under the Nevermore sign and entered the yard. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d just walked into the lion’s den, that the trap was closing in on you.

Looking around at the people you recognised a few familiar faces, werewolves, sirens, and gorgons catching up together instead of segregating themselves like they used to.

Someone calling your name made you turn around, your eyes falling on a face you’d recognise anywhere.

“Enid!” Your lips immediately spread into a smile. She hadn’t changed at all, still that bubbly young woman dressed all in pink.

She pulled you in a tight hug and you grimaced a little, locking eyes with Wednesday who gave you a knowing look.

“So, you two…” You asked when Enid eventually let you go.

“Yes!” Enid answered excitedly as she wrapped her arm around Wednesday’s waist, a small blush creeping on the Addams’ cheeks.

And it made sense, you thought, that the gloomy girl would fall for the bubbly one. Isn’t that what had happened to you too, after all?

Enid excused herself, saying she was going to get some drinks for the three of you. A silence fell between Wednesday and you but it didn’t feel uncomfortable.

“I knew you would come someday. Enid kept saying we would never see you at a class reunion, but I knew you’d eventually come.” The Addams girl said. “We can’t run from our feelings forever, can we?”

Wednesday smirked devilishly when you looked at her with wide eyes. If she knew, if she had been able to realise, who else had?

Enid reappeared before you could say anything, handing you a cup of what looked like white wine.

“The handwritten invitation was a nice touch.” You said after taking a sip and letting out a small chuckle. “I do wonder where she found the time to handwrite so many invitations though.”

Enid frowned and looked at her girlfriend before looking back at you.

“You received a handwritten invitation?” She asked. “Because we only got the good old computer typed one…Why would she send you a hand-“ Wednesday gently put her hand on the blonde’s mouth and whispered something in her ear, which had Enid nodding and keeping quiet.

The crowd suddenly fell silent, and all eyes turned towards the entrance door from which Principal Weems had just walked out to step onto the podium.

She didn’t need a podium, she was already towering over everyone there but that’s simply how Larissa was. She wasn’t ashamed of who she was or how she looked, something she had desperately tried to teach you when the two of you were close.

“All your life there will be people trying to push you down.” You remembered her telling you, her fingers holding onto your chin to make sure you were looking at her. “And yes, it will hurt. You may cry if you need to, but you can never give up. And don’t you ever be ashamed of who you are. You are incredible, my darling, don’t you forget that.”

Larissa’s voice resonated through the yard, commanding everyone’s attention. With unwavering poise, she delivered her speech, thanking everyone for coming that day. Every eye in the crowd was fixated on her, hanging onto her words.

The principal’s smile widened a little when she noticed Enid and Wednesday, only to falter for a second when her blue eyes eventually locked with yours.

It felt like time had stopped. Like it was just the two of you and the others had ceased existing. It always felt that way with her. She would look into your eyes and make you feel like you were the most important person in the room.

There was a short pause in Larissa’s speech, so short in fact that you weren’t sure anyone else had even noticed. It only took a split second for the woman to pull herself back together and finish her speech, her eyes falling on you a few more times.

Larissa ended her speech by telling everyone to help themselves with the food and drinks and reminding them that Nevermore would always welcome them if needed.

You were out of the yard as soon as Larissa stepped down from the podium. You needed to get out of there before she decided to come and find you, because you knew she would.

Coming here today hadn’t been a good idea. You should have stayed at home and buried that damn invitation in the drawer of your desk as you had done with the past four ones.

You heard the familiar sound of heels approaching the alcove where you were hiding and barely looked up when the sound stopped right next to you.

“I knew I would find you here.” Larissa spoke softly.

Of course she did. You always used to hide here whenever you needed to be away from everything.

“Your mother said you would visit whenever you’d feel better…I’m glad you finally do” The tall woman added.

It didn’t sound like she was reproaching you, and when you looked up at her face and your eyes met her gentle ones, you knew she wasn’t. Larissa was simply stating a fact. You were here, and she was glad that you were.

She hadn’t changed at all, you thought as you quietly observed her face. You noticed that the lines at the corner of her eyes and around her lips had deepened. She was as beautiful as ever.

“It’s very good to see you, Principal Weems. Thank you for the invitation.” You wished you had the courage to use her name, to call her Larissa like she had allowed you to do when in private. But time had passed and you weren’t sure if you were still allowed to.

“Of course, I’m glad you joined us today. Will you follow me to my office? There’s something I’d like to show you.” The older woman said, not waiting for your answer before spinning around on her heels and walking away.

Stepping into the office felt stranger than you thought it would. You were almost immediately hit with a wave of memories. Sitting down on the sofa by the fireplace, reading a book while Larissa furiously typed some emails on her keyboard. Spending whole evenings debating on the most absurd subject either of you could think of.

You’d fallen asleep there one time when Larissa hadn’t noticed how late it was. You’d woken up the next day still on the sofa but with a blanket covering you and a pillow comfortably tucked under your head. God, you loved her.

“There it is!” Larissa said, pulling you out of your reverie.

She handed you a small rectangular red box tied with a ribbon. You read the tag that was hanging to the bow and felt your stomach drop. Congratulations, darling! You make me so proud. She had bought you a graduation gift and you hadn’t shown up. You didn’t deserve her.

“I kept it all those years. I was hoping that you would visit during the summer after your graduation.” Larissa explained “And when you didn’t…I suppose I kept hoping that you would someday.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if it had been as hard for her as it had been for you. Had she missed you like you had missed her?

You pulled on the ribbon and watched as the bow fell apart, your hands slightly shaking when you lifted the lid to reveal a pair of black leather gloves.

“You always said you loved mine, remember? The beige ones?” Larissa asked.

If you remembered? You couldn’t count how many times you’d watched Larissa put her gloves on, admiring the way her fingers flexed in the leather. You had dreamt of helping her take them off only to kiss her knuckles.

“Do you like them?” The woman whispered, unsure what your silence meant.

“I love them.” You answered almost immediately. I love you, you thought. “Thank you so much, Miss Weems, this means more than you could ever imagine.”

Larissa’s smile widened and her body slightly moved forward, panic rising in your chest when her arms moved from her sides and you realised she was about to embrace you.

Don’t, please don’t. Because if you do I will fall right back in love with you, and I’m not sure I will ever be able to let go again.

But you didn’t say anything. You let her wrap her arms around you and pull you close against her. And it felt so right. You hadn’t felt this alive in years, yet it killed you to know that this meant nothing more to her than a hug between two old friends.

“I’m sorry I didn’t visit you sooner.” You whispered as you embraced her. She still felt the same in your arms. She still smelled the same. She was still her.

“I know.” Larissa whispered back, her body gently swaying from side to side as she held you close.

You felt like you were eighteen again, sobbing in her arms after a particularly rough day. She had never let you down, not once had she refused to help you and you had run away without an explanation.

“Larissa…” You whispered, wanting to explain yourself furthermore, needing to tell her how stupid you had been.

“I know.” She repeated and your ear that was pressed against her chest caught her heart beating faster.

You weren’t sure what she knew exactly, but it didn’t matter. Not now. Not while she was holding you close and shielding you from the world. There would be plenty of time for explanations. But for now, it was just you and her, tightly embracing each other.

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa x reader #principal weems #no beta we die like larissa #the yearning is exquisite

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toomuchracket · 6 months

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my whole life, waiting for you: part 2 (ross x girlband gf!reader fluff)

you know where this is headed, you don't need me to explain!! if you do... read this first. enjoy <3

it's almost funny how calm the green room is.

the atmosphere is a far cry from the manic, adrenaline and alcohol-fuelled hedonism that it was ten, fifteen years ago. adam is sat on the floor, facetiming his wife and son, chatting to the little boy about the murals the boys saw on their walk for coffee earlier. polly is beside him with her headphones on, watching something on her laptop, which rests on the coffee table. in the far corner, john, gabi, and jamie are battling it out on a mariokart race, and george - typical of him - is nowhere to be seen. he'd shouted to matty that he was just popping outside for something, but matty's curly head had been too engrossed in an essay collection to take in anything his friend had said.

ross is also reading, sat on the opposite end of the sofa from matty. well, he's trying to read, anyway - he can only focus on the words for a few seconds at a time, before they seem to start melting into illegibility on the page. it's not that it's a bad book, at all - in fact, he's actually really enjoying it - but it's making him think of you, and he's incapable of thinking about you without you completely taking over his mind. you recommended the novel, after all, and snuck your copy into ross's suitcase as a gift for tour with a "just so you don't forget to think of me".

as if he ever could.

the pages still smell like your perfume, a faint whisper of rose escaping into the air every time ross turns them. usually, he'd find it comforting, but today it's making the longing for you worse. he slams the book shut a bit harder than he means to, laying it down in favour of checking his texts from you - there's been nothing since your last message an hour ago, telling him you loved him and you'd speak to him soon.

matty looks up in mild concern as the book's covers meet. "shit story?"

"nah, just can't focus right now."

"fair enough," matty closes his own book and stretches, before curling up catlike with his head on the armrest of the couch. "how you feeling about tonight?"

crap. "alright," ross says, feeling anything but. "i'll feel better once we've soundchecked, i reckon. a bit more excited to go out there, y'know?"

"i'm the same," matty nods. "speaking of soundcheck, where the fuck is george?"

ross is about to shrug, when the man in question's famously impeccable timing kicks in; footsteps start to become audible through and towards the half-open door, george's unique laugh following it. following again is the smell of outside, freshly smoked cigarettes, and… your perfume? christ, ross really must be losing it.

and then you appear in the doorway.

your eyes dart round the room before locking onto ross's, and you beam at him. all the air leaves his lungs at once, and all thoughts except she's here leave his brain. in fact, all awareness of everything except your existence in the room totally abandons ross. he can't hear matty's cheerful cry of "HIYA!". he fails to register george and charli's presence in the doorway behind you. he doesn't even take notice of the sudden ground beneath his feet as he jumps up and runs to you.

he's completely running on autopilot, which is why he automatically crashes his lips onto yours when he reaches you. no hesitation, no worrying about revealing your relationship to everyone else in the room… just the need to show you how much he loves you, misses you, needs you.

you kiss him back just as eagerly, wrapping your arms as far around his broad shoulders as you can. your level of awareness is marginally higher than your boyfriend's, and the gasps and shocked laughter and shouts of "WHAT THE FUCK" make you smile into the kiss. well, partially - just the mere fact you're actually kissing ross is enough to make you beam in itself.

ross breaks away first, reluctantly, just so he can breathe. but he keeps his forehead pressed to yours, big hands cupping your jaw as he smiles centimetres away from your mouth. there's silence - from the two of you, at least - for a second, save your deep breaths, you and him doing nothing but clutching each other and revelling in the closeness.

"hi, baby," you lean back to look at ross, and he actually thinks his heart might give out. the softness seems to sparkle in your eyes, your lips are slightly swollen from how hard he'd kissed you, and he thinks you've never looked more beautiful.

without warning or indication, ross lifts you into a hug, your legs wrapping around his waist out of habit as you shriek out a laugh. "hi, my love," he says into your neck, spinning you around excitedly and relishing in the way you giggle joyously. "missed you. so fucking much."

"so i've heard. s'why i'm here, angel."

"who?... ah," ross turns, so he can see george. "you?"

"me," george nods, then winces as charli elbows him indignantly. "well, us. we did this."

adam pipes up from his spot on the floor. "and what is this, exactly? i mean, i think i know, but the wife wants details," he waves his phone in the air, and from your vantage point of head-on-ross's-shoulder you catch a glimpse of carly on the screen (well, her hair).

"me and her both, hann," matty looks like he's going into shock, lying flat on the sofa with his hands latched on either side of his head - if either you or ross had been capable of noticing anything other than each other, you would have seen the way his jaw dropped when you kissed, and how he'd slid into his current position with a hushed chorus of repeated "what the actual fuck"s. he looks up at you, wide-eyed. "is this… a real thing?"

you nod as best you can without chinning ross. "the real deal. true love, i'd say," you tap your boyfriend's back, and he turns so you can both look at matty; you gently turn ross's head so he can look at you first, though. "that's a safe assessment to make, right, my love?"

"and an accurate one," ross kisses your nose, then turns to his best friend. "yeah, mate, she and i are pretty much settled now."

"the plan was to tell everyone after tour finished," you chime in. "because neither of us wanted the relationship to take the focus away from your music, or mine…"

"...but i got too emo last night and blabbed to george about how much i missed her," ross smiles, cheeks taking on the slightest hint of pink. "and here we are."

there's a vague chorus of awwws from around the room, and through adam's phone, but matty still seems to be processing. "what about your bandmates? do they know?"

thankfully, there's no hint of accusation in his tone, only curiosity. you exhale a breath you didn't realise you were holding. "they only found out this morning, when i told them i couldn't come to the studio today because of a boyfriend emergency. and don't worry, matty," you say, as you see your friend begin to open his mouth. "the album's done. completely. the label overestimated how long i'd need to make it perfect. we were just going in for free tea and biscuits today, to be honest."

ross chuckles, squeezing you even tighter to him, while the room erupts into laughter behind you. matty rolls his eyes, but smiles. "you're so chill it's unbelievable. christ, the two of you are perfect for each other. i can't believe i never realised that."

"matty, shouldn't they start an onlyfans?" charli shouts, around you. adam collapses into giggles, phone nearly falling from his hand - luckily, polly (also laughing) catches it before it hits the ground.

ross winces. "are you still going on about that?"

matty follows suit. "for fuck's sake, charli. no! christ," he shudders, while charli sighs in despair. "you do look hot together, though. really hot. any kids you have would be- oh my god, you need to have kids. please? just one? imagine how musical they'd be!"

charli cackles, grabbing your arm. "babe! didn't i say he'd say tha-"

"right, i think we should all shut up now, and get on with the day, yeah?" george says, deep voice taking on an authoritative tone that ross is secretly thankful for. "soundcheck, let's go."

your boyfriend pecks your lips and puts you back on the ground, as everyone begins to wrap up their activities and head to stage. before a mass exodus from the green room begins, matty puts a hand on your arm and speaks. "i've just got one more thing to say."

"did you just quote your own song?"

"shut up, i didn't mean it," he blushes, while ross snorts. "wanted to ask you something about the show tonight."

"right."

"would you come on and sing with us? you can say no, obvs, but you know how much i love your voice. i'd be really honoured if you agreed."

your friend's quiet earnestness is touching. although it's an unexpected request - you know the boys haven't been involving guests on this tour like they did previously - it's not an unwelcome one. and judging by the way ross hugs your waist tighter and smiles into your shoulder, you think he likes the sound of sharing a stage with you for the first time too. you grin at matty. "about you?"

matty nods. "polly's soloing jesus christ 2005 tonight anyway. prime opportunity for you to have a moment of your own."

"she's soloing- fuck, i'm going to cry," you bring a hand to your chest, and polly laughs and blows you a kiss. "alright. i'll do it."

the boys on either side of you hug you in excitement, and your heart glows. but you're not finished. "if…"

"yeah?"

you turn to your boyfriend. "if i can wear one of your scotland tops while i do."

matty laughs, while ross leans down to kiss you. "course you can, love," he murmurs against your lips. "i'd like that a lot, actually."

"so it's settled, then. i'll sing," you peck ross again, and drag him and matty towards the door. "let's go and practice now, so i don't show you all up."

***

as it turns out, if you angle yourself just so behind the house set onstage, you get a pretty good view of ross through the sheer curtain on the window. mic in hand and ready to go, you sway softly on your high heels as the outro to me begins, keeping to the side so you're not blocking matty's route down from the roof to the front door.

the song ends, and you tap your free hand on the opposite wrist in a sort-of clap as the audience applauds; you pair it with a smile towards your friend as he comes into view, and a laugh as he bows dramatically.

matty pulls you into a half-hug. "i'm excited. you feeling alright?"

"yeah, i'm good," you squeeze his (tiny, really tiny) waist. "actually, i meant to ask earlier… can we stand near ross for the outro?"

your friend smiles, the significance of the action not lost on him. "course we can," he looks up as the familiar music begins. "see you out there, bestie."

with a wink, he opens the door - leaving it ajar for you - and you're alone again. you do your usual pre-show routine, tugging at your skirt so it sits right and fixing your hair a final time, and just wait for the end of the first chorus. ducking under the window to keep your presence a surprise to the crowd as long as possible, you get into position, and step across the threshold onto the stage when matty and polly (doing the backing vocals at the start to throw everyone off the scent of your big reveal) sing the title of the song.

the roar from the crowd when you step out - and presumably, when your face and name appear on the screens - is so loud you can feel it through the stage, so loud that you can't help but grin at the sea of faces as you walk onstage. john playfully nudges you with his shoulder as you pass him, and you make a point of waving at the two g's on drums when you walk by, singing.

when you get to the internal door, though, you can't help but milk the moment a little; you take your time walking through, looking and smiling at the light in wonder, winking at jamie and polly giggling at you. matty's waiting to lead you down the stairs - not for the bit, but for practicality, given your heels - and you have a little group hug with him and adam when you reach the lower level. it's sweet. it's fun. it's comfortable, even though you're performing without your band for the first time in front of thousands of people, who may or may not like you, or even know who you are.

through it all, though, you can't stop yourself looking to stage left, to your smiling boyfriend, the love in his eyes evident even from where you're standing. during the second chorus, you walk to ross, tiptoeing to rest your head on his shoulder from behind him, exactly the same way you do while he makes dinner for the two of you in your flat. he seems to be thinking about that, too; almost on instinct, he turns to kiss your temple, a feather-light brush of lips and skin that nevertheless sends sparks shooting through your body.

the crowd puts two (that kiss) and two (your - his - top) together, and goes insane. they have the good grace to lower the screaming somewhat during your solo, which you sing centre-stage, matty's arm around your shoulders and yours on his, and then they dial it back up to eleven when you both wander back over to your boyfriend. you know you're looking at ross lovingly, dreamily, adoringly, but you can't hide it.

you don't want to, anyway. he's yours, you're his, and you don't give a fuck who knows or doesn't.

clearly, ross feels the same. after matty urges you to take a bow during the outro (and urges the audience to "please give it up for my honorary little sister"), then hugs you with a "thank you, darling" before running off to make it to the b-stage, your boyfriend rests his head on top of yours as he finishes playing. it's such a tender action, and for a brief second you forget you're onstage, not sat in your living room writing new stuff together and larking about on your instruments. but then the crowd starts up the applause again, and you remember. as ross hands his bass to joel, you take another bow, waving at the excited faces before ross takes your hand and leads you offstage.

his arms are wrapped around you before you've even fully opened your mouth to talk; you close it, and your eyes, and just breathe in the moment (and the home-y scent of ross's aftershave). ross speaks first, anyway, hand on the back of your head stroking your hair. "i am so proud of you."

"oh, stop it, i do it all the time," you laugh. "but i'm proud of you, too. i love watching you play. it was lovely to get the chance to see it up close."

"i love you," ross leans back so he can look at you as he says it, punctuating the end of his sentence with a soft kiss. "thank you. for coming up here, and for doing that. it was a lot of fun - i know we all thought so."

"i love you, too. so much. and these muppets you call bandmates - they're a pretty good bunch."

"they're irritating me now, though."

"why, baby?"

ross smiles, a very honest lifting of cheeks and curling of lips. "just haven't gotten you all to myself today, s'all. they've always been around."

it's not necessarily a suggestive statement, but there's an underlying hint of something in ross's words; you try to respond with an equally ambiguous statement. "well," you begin, thumb stroking your boyfriend's cheek. "all you need to do is finish the show, and then we can hide out in your hotel room, completely uninterrupted, for like twelve hours. sound good?"

"sounds amazing, love," ross sighs, kissing you again. "i really have missed you. don't really want to let you go and go back onstage, to be honest."

"i'll be right here cheering you on the whole time. screaming your name and everything."

"oh, i like the sound of that."

"cheeky."

#mads muses #mads does writing #girlband gf #ross macdonald fluff #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald fanfic #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald x reader #ross x reader

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bloodymiso · 10 days

Text

★ library gossip! anthony lockwood x gn!reader

in which you discuss the latest magazine gossip with the world’s best drama queen—apples at hand.

notes: idk how the farts i whipped this up faster than my haikyuu hcs but whatever🔥🔥. | warnings: granny apple haters dni/j

imagine discussing the latest gossip with LOCKWOOD. his eyes were glued to his newly arrived gossip magazine as he took a bite of an apple, which he often forgets on the chair—something you noticed after sitting on a 2 day old rotten apple a few days ago.

you popped into the library, a book in hand. as you walked, you hit the shelf, too focused on your book to care. lockwood’s ears perked up and he tilted his head up to face you.

“woah, you okay there?” he chuckled. “anyhoo, did you know gina—yes, gina, got a divorce with her husband. crazy, right?” he said almost immediately after his last sentence, completely brushing off the past “topic” that he brought up. you listened in, closing your book, making sure you had the bookmark in the right place.

you couldnt help but be pretty well informed with whatever cock and bull lockwood read in his magazines, he talked about it all day, everyday. even on missions. ah, the mission on king’s road, you remembered it very clearly.

the type 2 visitor approached your figures, lockwood with his rapier up, doing his fancy wancy twirly wirly shit. it attacked and as it did so, you could see it’s features, rather clearly at that. his face was structured, his jawline rather clear, and his hair was pulled back neatly, like your average london rich kid—just ugly with half the flesh on his body burned off. both of you jumped out the way and as lockwood landed on the floor, you could practically see the lightbulb beside his head.

“merlin’s beard that guy is exactly how my magazine described the man martha had an affair with!”

“bloody hell lockwood, shut up!”

remembering that past mission, you chuckled, resting your arms on lockwood’s armchair(haha armchair for arms) , leaning on it. “why is everything about relationships and marriage in that magazine?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. “your hair is so thin.” “come on lad don’t change the subject.” he rolled his eyes and continued.

“apparently, jeffrey—gina’s husband was having an affair with gerlie, the girl next door.”

“why is everyone having affairs?”

“dunno, adults are weird. anyway—oh do you want an apple?” he asked, grabbing a light green granny apple from his little basket. you nodded, relieving it from his hands, taking a bite.

your conversation lasted over an hour, and lockwood had devoured over 3 apples in that time period. if you were standing outside the door in that said hour like a weirdo(*cough* george*cough*) you would have heard laughter almost every 5 seconds.

his smile was so contagious, even a simple sneer caused your own lips to curve up in response. you loved moments like this, laughing your asses off over stupid stuff. you loved all the shits and giggles you and lockwood had.

you giggled as you looked through the pages, stopping at a picture of a couple—the man on the left weirdly resembling lockwood. you looked at him, and he looked at you. a cheeky smile rose to his face as you playfully slapped his cheek.

“are you thinking what im thinking?” he smirked, before he could continue the thought, you slapped him again.

“this is abuse! that could be us if you werent such a meanie.” he rolled his eyes like the drama queen he is, closing the magazine and crossing his arms. you chuckled, he was pouting.

“hey im not a meanie.” you pouted back, ruffling his hair. the smirk on lockwood’s lips never fading.

“guess thats us then.” he said, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his legs.

“i—nevermind, im a meanie.”

(><) wanna support? reblog with tags pookie!! (ps. check out my may 2024 event:3 )

#lockwood & co #lockwood and co #lockwood & co x reader #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #( ˘▽˘)っaki writes #ill add more tags later im lazy #this was originally supposed to be a scenario idk what happened

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shurisleftearring · 4 months

Text

Green Eyes Pt 2

a/n: Thank you so much for the love on the first part! I am so shocked by the love its gotten so far! I have many more parts to come! Enjoy! (Also bear with me it get juicier each part I promise) (Also I know that I’m late but better late then never 😚).

But I don't love you anymore, i'm so insecure, never knew that love did this...

Pairing: Shuri x Black!fem!reader

Word Count: 1k+

Summary : Five years. It’s been five years since the blip. And even longer since you’ve been in a relationship. Maybe it’s for the best. The last time you were in a relationship, it just ended in disarray. But, when your ex comes back into your life, can you start over and do it again? Or try to move on with an unexpected love?

Part one is pinned on my page!

You felt a certain sense of nervousness around Shuri now. Even though you were secure in yourself now, it just felt different. She was different.

“Hello…y/n?” Shuri said

You snapped out of the train of thought you were in.

“Huh?”

“I said do you like my car uthando?”

You had no idea what that meant but you were turned on by it. You loved it when she spoke her native language.

“It’s aight”

She chuckled “Just alright? Even though you were just gawking at it a minute ago?”

You shrugged.

Kaira felt all the of tension between the two of you.

“Well, sorry about that Your Majesty, it’s just stunning,” Kaira said breaking the silence

“No worries, and please call me Shuri,” Shuri said to Kaira

“Ok!” You could tell that she was trying to flirt with her eyes.

All you wanted to do at the moment was leave.

“Well, it’s late, see you around.” You said

Kair tried to wave goodbye, but you grabbed Kaira before she could do anything.

“See you around…” Shuri said.

She didn’t recognize you. Inside and out. She only recognizes you by the birthmark on your lower back that you rarely showed. Damn, after all of this time, she still remembers every little detail. She didn’t know what happened to you, but she was going to find out.

“y/n, she is fine as fuck! Can you introduce me?”

You just rolled your eyes. “No, let’s go”

_____________________________________

A few days later

It is your first day at Stark Industries and you already have two meetings, and four deadlines to meet. I guess they have been struggling since the infinity war.

“You have a meeting in five minutes,” says your assistant. You promised yourself that the assistant that you had at your old job would come here. He is the best there is, it’s just a guy plus he's black.

“Thank you, Anthony.”

You look at yourself in the mirror one last time and then go to the meeting room. You're fortunately early so you give yourself a little pep talk.

“You got this, this job will help you, not hurt you. You will become CEO soon, and won't have to deal with this bullshit.”

“You have a long way to go, my love.”

Shit. It’s Shuri.

“Stop calling me that, we're in a public place.”

“Oh, so you don’t mind in public?” She said smugly.

You hated her newfound cockyness. It was getting annoying.

“No, not anywhere. Shuri, let’s make something clear. We are not together, stop calling me these pet names.”

“...No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No uthando, no” -love

You knew she called You forgot how petty she was. You were having a staring contest with her and you were losing. She was just too fine.

“Hey ladies, I can see y’all are gay as fuck but please, let’s not be in the office.”

“Peter shut the hell up.” You say.

“How long has this been going on? Shuri only calls her girlfriends ‘love’”

“Nothing is going on I can assure you that”

Shuri is looking at you so smugly. “I mean..”

You looked at her “What the hell you mean ‘I mean’?”

“...We could've been at least engaged by now if it wasn’t for you ripping my heart out to shreds.”

“Excuse me?! It was your MOTHER who broke us apart. She told me never to contact you and to break up with you. That-”

“Don’t. Don’t you start y/n”

“OR WHAT? SHE RUINED MY LIFE. OUR RELATIONSHIP, MADE MY LIFE A LIVING HELL UNTIL I LEFT. FACE IT SHURI YOUR MOTHER IS A HOMOPHOBIC BITCH. SHE HATED ME AND MANIPULATED YOU AT EVERY TURN” you screamed.

“Y/N WATCH YOUR FUCKING MOUTH”

Peter was just watching in awe and confusion.

You and Shuri are now close. Your face is so close, your noses are touching.

Shuri was mad at you, but she knew that she was right. Her mother told her before she died about what she did. Then something clicked in Peter’s mind.

“...wait…y/n you don’t know?”

“I don’t know what Peter?” You said irritated.

“That Queen Rom-”

“SHUT UP PETER”

“What? She what?”

“Nothing” Shuri gritted through her teeth.

A massive silence fell until other people started coming in. You just sat down and looked away mad. Shuri just stormed out of the room. You just sat there in anger and confusion. What was Shuri hiding from you? What happened to her mom?

_____________________________________

After the meeting, you just felt drained, especially after that fight you had with Shuri. You just got into your apartment when your phone buzzed. What now? you thought. You kicked off your heels and put your coat on the rack. You looked at your phone to see that an unknown number texted you. Be downstairs in five, it’s important. You had a feeling it was Shuri. You were just drained and wanted to deal with it later. You set up your I’m drained the fuck out set up on the couch and was about to put on Living Single when your doorbell rang. You sighed and went to open the door. When you opened it, it was Shuri. “I told you to be ready in five. It’s been thirty minutes.”

“That should have been the green light to go. home. I don’t wanna deal with anything right now so please leave me alone.��

“No, we need to talk. NOW”

Her aggression took you aback.

“I said no Shuri” Shuri just sighed.

“Love, please, this is important” You gave her a look.

“...It’s about the project,” She said

You sighed and just looked at her.

“Fine, just let me try to look decent”

“Not you getting dolled up for me”

You just rolled you eyes and went into your bathroom to clean yourself up from the day. _____________________________________

Shuri felt bad for going off on you. I mean, you didn’t know that her mother was murdered. But, You still crossed a line and you needed to know that. Now that Shuri is going to be your boss, she can’t have you mad. It'll ruin your performance, plus, she wants to say pet names to you and not have to worry about another screeching match. You came out of your bedroom and holy shit. Every time she saw you, you fell in love with your curves, hips, and even how your ass jiggled when you walked. She missed that. She missed your hug and your smile. She just missed you.

“I’m ready,” you said

She could tell you were tired, but she couldn’t let you go to sleep mad at her.

“We won’t be out long, I promise”

“Yeah, yeah. Can we just go?”

_____________________________________

Y’all just came from the car and saw the restaurant. It was beautiful. The neon signs were your favorite.

“Wow, Shuri, this place is amazing.”

“I know, when I saw it I thought of you. Also, is gumbo still your favorite?”

Omg…you haven’t had gumbo in so long. Since you've been on that keto diet, you have forgotten what gumbo tastes like.

“They have gumbo here?” Your face lights up.

She whispered into your ear, “Yes, uthando”

You eventually get seated and then order a big pack of those dinner rolls. All of the hard work you put in is now gone once you eat the first roll. Your eyes start rolling back and Shuri can’t help but laugh.

“What have you been eating? Grass?”

You can’t even hear her. All you can think about is having another roll.

“Oh my, love slow down”

“These are so fucking good, oh my god!”

Shuri was having a field day, taking pictures, and laughing her ass off, she didn’t notice you had about 5-6 rolls.

“Well shit y/n”

You looked at the plate so embarrassed. It just hit how much of that you're gonna have to cut back to even make on how many pounds you ate.

“y/n it’s ok, you just got hungry. That’s all”

“No, I lost control”

“Look, I know that you have problems with your eating, but please just enjoy it. Please? For me, love?”

You just sighed “Ok, I will”

Shuri smiled “Good, now I already ordered ahead”

You looked at her confused “huh”

“What did you order…”

“You’ll just have to see love,” she said as she winked at you

Now you were intrigued. Shuri was not the person you once knew and it was scary. The “baby lesbian who doesn’t know shit” is gone. You didn’t know how to feel. A part of you loved it, and a part of you was sad that those simpler times were over.

“Ooo, your song is on!” she said, swaying to the music in her chair.

Oh shit. It was Rain by SWV. You laughed. You forgot that she loved this song as much as you do.

She stood up and offered her hand.

“Would you like to dance?”

You were a little hesitant but then obliged.

She pulled you into her and started dancing. With her soothing hands on your waist and her warm scent, you let loose. And started doing something that you thought would never happen again: dance.

“Look at youuu, dancin’, and shit”

You rolled your eyes and started singing some of the lyrics.

“Raiiiinnn downnnn on meee, let your lovee just fall on meeeee”

At this point, both of you guys were singing and dancing. Everyone was looking at you. There was a karaoke place, but y'all didn’t use it.

The song was at a close end.

“Sometimes it's soft as a mistyy raiiinnnnnn” both you and Shuri sing.

You both busted out laughing, walking to go back to your seats. Sitting down, you couldn’t contain the new excitement you just found. When you looked down at the table you saw gumbo, jambalaya, curry chicken, coco bread, and much more.

“Holy shit,” You said.

“Shuri…how tf am I gonna eat all of this food?”

“You won't, I invited some extra people last minute. I underestimated the quantity of the food so I called some people. They should be here any minute now.”

“Oh”

You were a little disappointed that it wasn’t going to be just you and her. Wait no you didn’t, you just got your life together. You can’t ruin that.

Shuri peeped at the disappointment on your face.

“I thought you didn’t want to be with me alone”

So did I you thought.

“I-I’m not disappointed”

“Ndicela ungandixokisi sthandwa”- do not lie to me, my love

Her kimoyo beads translated for you.

“I am not lying, I promise”

She chuckled at your failed attempt at trying to act tough. It was trash, but funny. Instead of grilling you about it, she just changed the subject.

“So, I need to talk to you about a few things”

“I figured that”

Shuri put down her drink. “What you said about my mother was unacceptable. You will respect her. Understand?”

Your lower regions were getting wetter by second. You didn’t know where all of this dominance came from but your vagina was wetter than NIagra Falls.

“Yes. I realize that now, even though I am right, I could've said it better. I don’t even like to say that word, I was just angry”

“I understand. And I apologize for ‘poking the bear’ as you Americans say. I shouldn’t have done that”

You put down your drink trying not to smile. You loved this new her. She grew so much over the years.

“Also,I thought you would know more about Xhosa by now” Shuri said, changing the subject again.

“I stopped learning after I got my first promotion, I just didn’t have any time”

“Shame, because you’ll need to learn it”

You looked at her blankly.

“..why?”

She puts down her drink.

“Because your first task is to help me in Wakanda”

#letitia wright #shuri x reader #shuri udaku #lgbtq

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bittersweetarts · 5 months

Text

Fanfic Recommendations ✴ by bittersweetarts (Volume I)

Fandoms: Harry Potter (Books), House of the Dragon (TV), The Bear (TV), Criminal Minds (TV)

As much as I like writing fanfiction, I love reading it even more! I enjoy a beautifully-written story as much as anyone does, and recommend the following for those looking for a wonderful read that will make you feel like you're in another world –

dirty old town – Regulus Black x OC

Author: WizardGod

Status: Complete - AO3 Page

One of my favourite stories that I have ever read.

Set during the Marauders Era, the plot follows a young woman named Finn Lynch, who lives a reserved life in rural Ireland, until her uncle, Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, asks her temporarily house a war defector from a Wizarding World she is not part of.

Word Count: 286,984

Tropes: Slow Burn, Mild Enemies-to-Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family

Thy Wicked Torment – Fred Weasley x OC

Author: this_pendent_world

Status: Complete - AO3 Page

You know it's a good fanfic when the writing actually makes you feel like you're in Hogwarts, and this story is impeccable!

Set during the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the story follows a young Slytherin named Evangeline Parkinson Rothchild, and the trouble she ends up finding herself in as she becomes involved with Fred Weasley, Gryffindor's resident troublemaker.

Word Count: 218,347

Tropes: Enemies-to-Lovers, Slow Burn, Angst, Found Family

Where the Gold Meets the Green – Aemond Targaryen x OC

Author: vhagarapologist

Status: WIP - AO3 Page

Well-written House of the Dragon fanfiction with romance, political intrigue and minimal Targ-cest?? Say less. This is a fairly recent-read and is still being regularly updated, but I am really enjoying it and look forward to reading new chapters when they come out.

The story follows Leona Lannister, the only surviving child of Tyland Lannister, during the Dance of the Dragons, as she navigates life in King's Landing and catches the eye of two Targaryen princes.

Current Word Count: 67,148

Tropes: Slow Burn, Enemies-to-Lovers, Angst, Toxic Relationship

The Fool and the Dragon – Aemond Targaryen x OC

Author: prince_aemond_targaryen / @prince-aemond-targaryen

Status: WIP (Almost Complete) - AO3 Page

The first Aemond Targaryen story that I adored (written before the episodes with him as an adult aired) - back when Season 1 was airing, I would re-read the chapters between the weekly episode premieres to tide me over; it's just that good.

Faune Follard, the valued lady-in-waiting of Princess Helaena Targaryen, navigates life in King's Landing whilst enduring the ire of the One-Eyed Prince.

Current Word Count: 99,899

Tropes: Slow Burn, Angst, Mild Enemies-to-Lovers, Toxic Relationship

How Can You Mend a Broken Heart – Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto x Reader

Author: justfantasy

Status: WIP - AO3 Page

Finding good Carmy fanfiction is akin to searching for water in a drought, and I do really wish there was more! This is my favourite one, but sadly there aren't many chapters and it hasn't been updated in a while.

Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto, a man of few words, has a one night stand which turns into something more.

Current Word Count: 11,345

Tropes: Friends-to-Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining

The Keeping of Words – Spencer Reid x OC

Author: BryWrites

Status: Complete First Version on Fanfiction.Net + WIP Second Version Re-Write on AO3

I read this story originally when it started being published seven years ago, and I was obsessed!

The story follows an aspiring human rights lawyer, Bianca Brown, as she is asked to assist on a BAU case and ends up finding herself intertwined with a member of the BAU, an elusive man named Dr. Spencer Reid.

Word Count: 264,402 (FFN) / 202,439 (AO3)

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort, Second Chances, Slow Burn

This list is not very long, but like said, these are stories that I really enjoy and feel passionate about. Evidently I prefer self-insert fanfiction, but I do read anything and everything. If you have a recommendation (for any fandom and any pairing), feel free to share in the comments!

I also write fanfiction myself, and my masterlist is linked below incase you'd like to give any story a read.

– Masterlist ✴ by bittersweetarts

Until next time, Happy Holidays!

PS. I still don't know how to respond to comments on posts (as this is a secondary blog), but I read and appreciate them all! If you ever want a direct response from me, you can private message me or send a question in my ask inbox.

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Note

I just know Felix is going to cause a scene when she wakes up. But I’m ready, I can take it.

I was a little busier this week but I’m so glad it’s Saturday and I get to share this with you all. S always, here the Terms of Endearment Masterlist.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” There’s no rhyme or reason for what could have possibly just escaped Bradley Bradshaws mouth. Not only was the idea crazy, but what scared you more than anything was that you knew you had heard the mustache clad, Hawaiian shirt wearing, deep brown eye having ass Naval Aviator correctly.

“You heard me.” Your daughter, Dot, was perched up on Bradley’s lap at the bar. Penny had given her some colouring pages and a bucket of crayons to entertain her while you enjoyed two for one night at the Hard Deck with Bradley. “Is it so hard to believe?” She liked Bradley, for whatever reason—she immediately gravitated towards him as you got to know him.

“What’s hard to believe, Bradshaw, is that you’d want anything to do with me at all.” You remarked as you cut through your steak. Medium rare. You shook your head softly at the idea, God it would be such a bad idea to get involved with anyone now. “I’m not looking for a relationship.” You told him through doe eyes and a meek smile before you placed the cut piece of steak in your mouth. “I've just gotten out of a long term thing and I don’t even have my shit sorted here properly, and you’re asking me? Of all people! Out on a date?”

Bradley, with all his good graces and his ability to fall head over heels in love immediately, looked down at your daughter, changed up the coloured crayon she was currently colouring with, he thought the grass should be green—not red, and smiled as he turned back to you, sitting beside him, like you had for the past five days after work at the Hard Deck.

“I think you should take a leap and give me one chance to take you out.”

“I think you’re delusional from all those G forces you’ve been pulling.” You met his smirk, squinting at each other as Dot squealed when Bradley tickled her sides to show her he was still actively engaged with her current enrichment activity.

“Did you hear that? I think Dot here just said you should let me take you to dinner.” You couldn’t help but to laugh at how ridiculous Bradley Bradshaw looked, why he was trying it on with you you’d never truly understand. Scooping up some mashed potatoes, you held it out for Dot to take a mouthful.

“Dot has a speech impediment and can’t even say your callsign properly.” You called Rooster out on his bullshit. “I don’t need you using my daughter to get in my pants, chicken man—“

“Chicken man?” It was hard to stop yourself from laughing as Rooster beamed at you with wide, all encompassing eyes. “That was a low ball.” You just pressed your lips together and tilted your chin up, proud of yourself. “And for the record, I’m not just trying to get in your pants.”

“What are you playing then?” Bradley had been infatuated with you since the moment you opened Jake Seresins door a few weeks ago, only now you were friendly with one another, to know fault of your own. Rooster had seemingly made it his new life mission to mesmerise you, put a spell on you, he’d been on this dinner crap for two entire weeks now and there seemed to be no end in sight. He had convinced himself he had fallen in love with you—poor guy.

“Let me take you out to dinner and I’ll be happy to give you an answer.” You could feel the heat rising in the apples of your cheeks as you placed your knife and fork down, wiped your mouth with the crummy napkin, and swivelled on your chair to face Bradley properly.

“Bradshaw, trust me when I tell you I am the last person you want to get involved with.” You sighed, keeping Bradley’s gaze as he matched your energy and swirled his legs out from under the bar, bumping yours as Dot reached out to you with grabby hands—she was done with her colouring and just wanted her mum. “I'm damaged goods, I don’t play well with others, I’m a single mothers, you hardly know me and I’m living in my brother's spare bedroom—what about me screams love of your life?”

Rooster didn’t answer right away. He simply eyed you off as you snuggled your cheek against Odettes as she cuddled into you. Giggling as she grinned ear to ear. Yep. He wanted you, all of you—and your little girl too.

“Hard work is good for the soul.” Was all Bradley replied with as he finished his beer, noticing the sippy cup of juice you’d ordered Dot was empty. “And something tells me you’d be worth the grueling effort, Miss Fix It.” You couldn’t compute what you’d just heard, couldn’t comprehend that Bradley Bradshaw was still proposing the rhetoric that you were worth any sort of effort from anyone. “Barkeep, I’ll get another drink for Fe here and another juice for her mini me—“ Rooster fished his wallet out from his back pocket as he stood, placing a hand on the small of your back as he manoeuvred himself behind you. “Start a tab for the juices.”

“No, Penny, don't do that.” You shook your head. “I can pay for my daughter’s drinks, mine too.” Bradley kept his eyes trained on Penny as she held her hands up in defeat, knowing that Rooster would just tell her at a later date that he’d put a credit down. “You’re a menace Bradshaw.”

“And you’re gonna fall in love with me Y/l/n.” Bradley smirked, winking as he tilted your chin his way with his finger. “Only a matter of time—“

“Yeah, sure—in your wet dreams, Flyboy.” You taunted as Rooster stood so close you felt all encompassed by the scent of his cologne. He wiggled his eyebrows at you, challenging your taunt and raising you his own.

“Trust me mama, with the amount of jacking off I've been doing these days with you around? I’m losing valuable inches.” Your jaw would have hit the floor if Bradley hadn’t had his finger there, holding your head still as he leaned in over you. Closing the gap slowly, you didn’t seem to want to do anything to stop him. Because you didn’t want this to stop, despite how unavailable you really were:

“I’m gonna tell Jake you’re sexualising me, perhaps then I can get some peace and quiet around here.”

“You love it.”

“Debatable.”

“I’m gonna kiss you now—“

“Wait What?” Before you could even fathom what Bradley was doing, his lips were on yours. Softly and ever so gently, he pressed his supple lips to yours in a moment of balls and madness. If Jake walked in any second now Bradley knew he was a deadman. But he couldn’t help it—he just needed to feel your lips on his just once.

Rooster wasn’t expecting the kiss to last, he just thought he’d try and cop a sneaky peck. But when you snaked a hand around to the back of his head to keep him drawn close and against your lips? Bradley felt his entire world shift. He was down bad.

“Tooster!” Dot babbled in your lap as she brought her little hands up to push against Bradley cheek, forcing him to break the kiss and pull back. “No kiss my mamma! Ownly I kiss my mamma—“ Bradley widened his eyes in pure shock as you brought a hand up to cover your mouth and laughed at the absolute scolding your two year old had given Bradley. His cheeks were bright crimson as he tried to find the right words to say to your daughter.

“Can’t we share?” Bradley settled for that as he crouched a little to meet Dot's height in your lap as he gave you a much needed moment to compose yourself after your moment of weakness. Knowing you really couldn’t do this, not because you didn’t want to or didn’t like Bradley, but because you simply weren’t good enough for someone as kind and as beautiful as him. “My mama always said sharing was caring?”

“No, she’s my mamma.” Dot stated a matter of factly before Penny was dropping your drinks off at the bar.

“The two year old has spoken, Tooster.” You giggled. “I’m flattered by your persistence, really I am—“ You took a deep breath in and sighed. “But like I said, I'm damaged goods and you deserve better than broken.”

“My mother would turn in her grave if I didn’t see this through.” Bradley explained, knowing he was going to have to work for you so much harder than he’d ever worked for anyone ever. But you were every bit of it worth the time, the patience, the effort, everything. “I’m gonna win you over Y/n, just you watch.” Rooster left it at that, turning on his heels to go suss out the game of darts Coyote and Fanboy had started up.

“Oh, eyes peeled Bradshaw, I’ll be watching.” You shouted at him as he waved you off politely. Sending you a wink over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd. “In a million years, huh baby?” You cooed as you turned your attention back to Dot in your lap, her back against your chest. “Thanks for having my back, wingwoman.”

“I’m gonna pretend like I didn't see that happen.” Jake groaned in your ear as he came up behind you, thumbing the back of your head with the palm of his hand.

“Ow!!” You hissed, watching as Jake came to sit beside you in the barstool Bradley had only just moments ago vacated. “He kissed me, thump him!”

***~****~****~*****~****~****~

There wasn’t an awful lot of noise that inherently pulled you from your drugged up haze, but the steady rhythm of a heart rate monitor and the incredibly loud sound of Jake Seresin snoring has your frowning before your eyelids even peel away from one another.

“Jake—“ You grumbled, you couldn’t move your jaw. What the hell? “Wh—“ Reaching up to touch your lips, you tried to open your mouth again. Only this time you let out a whimper when you tried a little too hard, feeling wire strain and stretch as tears flooded your eyes. “Ow—“

Your face felt incredibly puffy to the touch. Swollen skin that mimicked the colours of a rainbow throbbed painfully under the tentative touch of the pads of your fingertips. You could see, barely—but you saw enough to recognise that you were in a hospital.

As you tried to push yourself up on your elbows a little more to get a better look again, you hissed out a jaw clenching groan when a sharp pain radiated across your upper torso. Clutching at the painful area under the hospital gown you found yourself in. You felt prickly stitches. Fuck.

At the sudden juxtaposition of your painful cries, Bradley shot up from the place he’d fallen asleep beside you in. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out for. But when he sat up, a drool patch remained on the side of your bed his cheek had been pressed into.

“Y/n—“ Bradley cooed, still groggy from his impromptu nap as he rubbed his eyes and slid as close to you as he possibly could in the chair he hadn’t left. “Dot’s okay, he didn’t hurt her baby, Jake was on it pretty quickly.” Bradley knew the first thing that you were going to ask about was your daughter. As he reached to push your hair up and away from your forehead, Bradley smiled at you as he stood, leaning haphazardly over you. “Please don’t try to talk too much alright? You broke your jaw, it’s wired closed for now but if you need to—move your lips, talk through your teeth.”

You simply nodded quietly in responses still frowning as Braldey took in the sight of you. His heart had never been filled with so much emotion before. He was forever grateful that you were alive, that you were such a fighter, but his heart was crying at the same time because to see you like this would bring any man to his knees.

“I love you so much you know that right?” He choked out, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth for a second to stop himself from crying. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry in front of you—not when you needed reliability and strength in numbers. He needed to be a pillar of unconditional strength and support. “You are the strongest, most fierce woman I have ever met and you have no idea what an incredible honour it is to be able to call you my girl.”

“Everything hurts.” You spoke softly and with caution as you tested the waters. “And my lips are really dry.” Bradley couldn’t help but to chuckle as he reached for the tube of lip balm on the side table. Squeezing some onto the pad of his index finger before applying a thin, glossy layer ever so attentively.

“Better?” He cooed.

“Much.” You replied. Allowing a moment of silence to fall between you as Bradley sat back down in his chair. Sighing as he turned his head to where Jake still sat sleeping in a heap. “Jake asleep?”

“Yeah—the guy passed out when he found out what happened.” Bradley explained and your heart melted. “He really does love you.”

“I know.” You sighed, you knew how lucky you were to have Jake in your life. You’d always known that. “He’s a good guy, I don’t think I give him enough credit for everything he’s done for me.” You couldn’t help but to get a little choked up. “But I don’t think I give you enough credit either, chicken man.”

“Oh woah—“ Braldey chuckled as he pulled the back of your hand up to his lips, kissing you a couple of times as he smiled against your hand. “I haven’t heard that one in a while, Miss Fix It.”

Again there was a moment of peaceful silence shared. Only until Bradley thought it was an appropriate time as ever to let you know what was going on.

“Jaidyn’s in custody.” Was all Bradley said as you took all of what that could have meant in. “Dots at Paybacks play but we talked it over and decided that when you woke up Jake was gonna go get her and take her back to his place.” The explanation had a fatal flaw, why couldn’t Jake just bring Dot here? “He just wanted to see you awake first.”

“Can he bring her here?” There was a pause you didn’t like as you looked at Bradley and the way his face remained stoic and frozen, like he was scared to death to say what he had to next. “Rooster, Jake can bring Dot here, can’t he?” Again, there was no response when you asked to see your daughter. Not because Bradley was trying to panic you—he just couldn’t get the words out. “Answer me.”

“We don't think it’s best if she sees you like this.” Nothing could have broken you more. “We think that if she saw you like this, then she’d be traumatised Fe.”

“Who’s we in this decision?” You were physically starting to get upset, Bradley could see it from a mile away. “Rooster who the fuck is we!?”

Jake Seresin had woken up around the time Bradley was glossing your lips up with his tube of carmex. But he’d chosen to give the two of you a minute to just be. He pretended to still be asleep, perhaps that wasn’t such a great idea after all. So when he was groaning out a stretch to cut the rising tension in the room. you turned your head to face him.

“We, is me—“ Jake sighed as he stood, padding over to your bedside with a solemn expression. He hated seeing you like this. “Fe I love you, and you have no idea what I’d do to protect you, but Dot can’t see you like this, you look like you just went a few rounds with Rocky Balboa.”

“Jake—“ You tried reason with him, except all Jake did was lean over, kiss your forehead softly and ever so gently, before giving you a look that spoke louder than any reason, any excuse he could speak into words.

“I’m sorry I let you down.” He whispered just above a whisper. “But I've got a chance to make sure I don’t let Dot down too, she can’t see you like this Y/n.”

“You don’t get to make that decision for me.” It was clear to everyone in the room that you were spinning off into a tailspin. “I am her mother! You have no say.” Through a painful groan, you sat up. Unbeknownst to you as you allowed your emotions to overwhelm you, Bradley was hitting the little nurse’s button to alert the nurses at the nurses station that you needed assistance and needed it fast. “You don’t get to do this to me, please don’t keep her from me.”

“I do.” Jake knew if anyone had to deal out the tough love it had to be him. There was no way Odette deserved to see her mother like this. You didn’t deserve to have to subject her to that. A few days, that’s all you’d need. Allow the swelling to go down, the colour to fade a little. “You might not like it but I do get to make that decision for you and I have, because I know you know deep down I’m right.”

“Jake, I swear if you don’t go get my daughter and bring her to me right now.” You were moving around an awful lot for someone who’d just woken up after having an entire organ removed from your body. “I’m serious!” Not that you knew that at this point.

“Y/n, you gotta stop moving around, please lie back down.” Bradley was trying his hardest to be the voice of reason as he reached out to place a hand on your shoulder—he just wanted to die when you shuttered under his touch. A momentary lapse in judgement had him forgetting about just how battered and bruised you were underneath your hospital gown. “Shit, I’m sorry Fe—“

“Please just let me see my daughter.” Both Jake and Bradley hated the fact they had to deny you that right, to see your own child. “She’s my baby, I need to see her.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed as you pleaded with Jake, you were losing control of any level headedness you had. “Jake—“

“I can’t Fe—“ Jake explained as Bradley saw one of the nurses step into your room. “It really wouldn’t be good for her to see you like this.”

“Ah, I see someone’s awake!” She beamed. “How are you feeling, Miss Y/l/n?” She smiled, sensing the tension in the room and the worry in both Jake and Bradley’s eyes as they both turned to address her. “I must say I’m a little surprised to see you sitting up like this, how about we get you back in bed to rest up while we go over some or your charts post op?”

“I don’t care about any of this, I just need to see my daughter.” You were tunnelling violently into haze, nothing was more important to you than Odette. Not even your own health and wellbeing. “I don’t care.” You wailed, trying but failing to tear your mouth open. “I don’t need these stupid monitors and I don’t need you telling me what to do and I certainly don’t need you making parental decisions on my behalf!” You were still addressing Jake who’d stepped back slightly when you flung your legs over the side of the bed, pointing a finger his way. “Go and get her!”

“Darlin—“ Bradley knew he had to intervene before this got out of hand. “It’s not just Jake who thinks it’s for the best.” He tried to sound as calming as he could. “You wouldn’t want her to see you like this, and we’re not trying to control you, we’re just looking out for Dot.”

When you turned your head to look at Bradley, he saw nothing but rage. He never wanted to be on the receiving end of that look again.

“Keeping my daughter away from me, her mother! Means you are just as malicious as him!” You spat, not thinking about what it was you were actually saying or why Jake and Bradley were doing what they were doing. It was at the point when you tried to stand, that the nurse who’d answered Bradley’s button press shifted into action.

“Oh dear—“

“He wanted to take her away from me and that's exactly what you’re doing!?” I trusted you!” You were inconsolable as tears streamed down your puffy cheeks. “I TRUSTED YOU!” As you ripped out the cannula in your forearm Jake had to intervene, he couldn’t watch this go on any longer as Bradley just stood there on the opposite side of the bed in complete shock at your hysteria. “Let me see my daughter! Don’t take her away from me!” You were just speaking into a void as Jake wrapped his arms around your tightly, holding you still as you thrashed and twisted and turned. “Don’t take her away from me, please—!”

“Y/n, you gotta stop moving—“ Jake pleaded with you as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. “Stop!”

“Let go of me you self righteous piece of shit!” You screamed. “I can’t believe you, how could you do this to me!? SHE'S MY DAUGHTER! And IM HER FUCKING MOTHER!!” It all sounded a little odd because you were screaming through your teeth, groning as the pain threatened to take over you. But you fought it, kept screaming, kept spewing empty insults Jake's way. Jake and Bradley could hear you all the same though, regardless of your jaw, they could hear you, understand you—It all hurt the same.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself—“ Jake spoke as softly as he could as his own rage began to bubble to the surface.

“I hate you!” It stung to hear. “I fucking hate you—!”

“Stick and stones Fe, Sticks and stones.” Jake didn’t want to front that you’d struck a raw nerve. Your vicious words played on Jake's mind like an exposed nerve ending.

“She needs to be sedated before she ruptures her sutures.” The nurse explained as she jabbed you with a pretty large amount of sedative that took effect in a few seconds as it coursed through your body. “She shouldn’t be moving around this much right after major surgery.”

“She’s my daughter—“ You cried. Feeling an overwhelming numbness’s starting to overcome you. Coaxing you closer and closer into the black tunnel vision void. “My baby—“ Jake felt you start to go limp in his embrace, he’d give you credit where credit was due. You were fighting the sedative hard. “Don’t take her away from me.”

“We aren’t Y/n, we’d never.” Jake cooed as you finally fell victim to the sedative.

“I’m gonna be sick.” Bradley exhaled as he turned on his heels and ran his hands through his sandy blonde locks. “Holy shit, what the fuck was even that—“ It broke Bradley’s heart to see you like this, so broken and scared and all out of sorts. The only thing that reassured him that he was doing the right thing was the fact that if he could barely handle seeing you like this, there’s no way Dot wouldn’t see your beat up self in her nightmares. “She’s a wreck.”

“I’ll have to let the change over staff know what happened, I’ll pop it in her chart that she's been a little difficult and needed a sedative.” Jake was quite happy to help the nurse, who’d later introduce herself as Cindy—but Jake and Braldey already gathered that information by her nursing tag, back into bed. “I don’t think that she needs anymore unpleasant opinions thrust upon her while she’s recovering.”

“There aren't many ways to sugarcoat the fact it’s in her daughter’s best interest to not see her this way.” Bradley explained.

“Are you the father?” Cindy asked as she fixed up the thin blanket over your torso, deciding she’d need to set up a whole new cannula sight. Bradley just held his breath.

“No ma’am—“

“Then I’d think carefully about the language you use in situations like this, you might be doing what’s right but try and put yourself in Miss Y/l/n’s shoes.” Nurse Cindy sighed as Jake yawned and rubbed a tired hand over his face, the sun was only just now starting to rise. Odette had been at the Fitch's all night. “She’s clearly been through hell, keeping her separated from her daughter may do more damage in the long run than good, for her at least.” Cindy shrugged, Bradley just nodded silently in agreement—he felt awful after having just witnessed you lash out in utter desperation. Female rage was no joke. “I’m gonna sort her out, perhaps you’d like to take five? Ten minutes to grab yourselves a bite to eat? A coffee perhaps?”

It was Cindy’s kind way of asking Jake and Bradley to give her some space to fix you up and do her job. Bradley, with trepidations lacing every thought he had—eventually agreed.

“I should probably go get Dot.” Jake mentioned, every minute that passed was a minute longer she had spent in fear of what was going on around her. “I’ll take her home, get her sorted and maybe we’ll do some sort of zoom call or something?” He added, walking hesitantly towards the door with Rooster. Both men were so overly exhausted both mentally, emotionally and physically to the point where you really wouldn’t have been able to blame either of them if they turned their backs now.

“I still think it’s a bad idea but hey, we’re just as bad as that dickhead for protecting her kid from PTSD.” Jake had an attitude problem, that was no secret. He’d been good over the last few months but with a mix of exhaustion and overwhelming anger, he couldn’t not help but to let out a little attitude. “But hey, mother knows best, right.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Should you be drinking this early?” By the time Jake pulled up to the Fitch household, it was nearing six thirty in the morning. “That’s like, almost something you feel like I should be concerned about?” Jake questioned as he shut the car door in the driveway. The first thing he saw when he pulled up was Amilia, enjoying a beverage in the early hours of the morning. Soaking up the sound of birds singing and the sun rising. Unbeknownst to Jake though Amilia hadn’t actually gone to bed.

“Eh, I tend to stay awake at night because I don’t even know what my favourite colour is and I’m fucking terrified that I don’t have a real personality.” Amilia remarked as she laid perched up on the patio swing. “Haven’t actually gone to bed.” A two seated she’d made a one seater by propping her let’s up across the spare cushions. “And I’m not starting, I just never stopped, I dropped Bob off last night I just thought fuck it—it’s been a long enough day, why not make it a little longer.” Jake just huffed as he made his way up the porch.

“In my opinion, drinking at six thirty in the morning isn’t normal—“ Jake stood before Amilia, looking down at her with his hands in his pockets, a tired, sunken expression on his face, and a whole lot of worry in his heart for you. “Alcohol isn’t a problem solver.”

“At the risk of sounding flippant Lieutenant, opinions are exactly like assholes.” Amilia hadn’t even opened her eyes as she took the beer bottle to her lips and finished off the amber liquid, tilting her head as far back as her neck would allow her to move. “Everyone’s got one.” She finally opened her eyes and turned all her attention to Jake as she sat up, allowing him to take a seat next to her as she sighed and let her elbows rest on her knees. “I’ve got a job interview tomorrow at some bar Reuben got me hooked up with.” Amilia explained. “I was just sampling all your American alcoholic beverages.”

“What’s the verdict?” Jake asked softly, he was hoping Amilia would have some sort of comeback for him.

“They’re weak as piss, mate.” Jake snorted as he let himself rest against the back of the swinging chair. Amilia sat back too, pulling her legs up to cross over themselves. “She alright?” There was a lingering pause between Amilia and Jake before he decided to answer. He was done. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. All Jake did was turn his head, he looked at Amilia for a few seconds before the dam broke. “Fuck, Jake—c’mere.” He did. Jake allowed himself just a moment of weakness as he let his tears fall freely as he moved into Amilias open arms. Just needing someone to tell him he was doing this right.

Jake had never cried in the arms of a stranger before. But when Jake let his cheek rest against Amilia Fisher's chest, feeling her stroke his back and card her fingers through his hair.

Jake felt home.

“I can’t deal with that.” Jake cried. He hated being the bad guy in your eyes. “All I do is put her first and what? She calls us malicious?” Jake Seresin felt like a child, crying in the arms of a woman he hardly knew because his feelings were hurt. But he’d be damned if what you’d said didn’t hurt.

“What happened?” Amilia asked softly as she just sat with Jake, allowing him to lay across her lap as she played with his hair. He was so fucking tired.

“I told her I wouldn't be bringing Odette to the hospital for a few days.” He explained with a sigh, revealing in the feeling of Amilia combing through his hair. Looking up at her through teary eyes. “No two year old needs to see their mum in the state she is currently.”

“Hmmm—“ Amilia pressed her lips together into a line and nodded, agreeing with Jake. “Why’d you nominate yourself as the villain?”

“Because I didn’t want Rooster taking the brunt of that.” Jake groaned, covering his flushed and teary face as he took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. “He doesn’t deserve that, if I know Y/n—which I fucking do, she’d push him away and they need each other.” Amilia just listened, she listened to Jake pour his heart out about how much he hated being the one behind your anger, he hated being the one who said you couldn’t see your daughter right now, but he’d rather be the one you blamed for all your misery and all your displare than have you put the blame on Bradley. “She told him she trusted him like he’d broken it or something, I just hope that the next time she wakes up she doesn’t say something she’ll regret in the long run.” Jake paused as he took a moment to look up at Amilia, just drinking in the sight of her, god she was fucking beautiful. “She needs Rooster just as much as he needs her and I can’t let that asshat of an ex ruin that for her.”

“Woah, what in the world is going on out here huh?” Payback cooed as he opened the front door. He was gonna ask about what the hell was going on between Jake and his sister in law but that was a conversation for a later day. What mattered right now was getting Dot back where she belonged. “Is that uncle Jakey?” Jake sat up at the mention of his name with a groan, seeing the beautiful little girl that was Dot holding out her arms for him to take her. “You gonna tell uncle Jake how good you’ve been?”

“I been so good.” Odette mumbled softly as Jake took him in his strong arms, sitting her on his lap before she bawled her fists and rubbed at her tired eyes. “Where’s mamma?”

“She’s okay baby, just needs a few days to herself. She had to get her spleen removed and she’s all tired and isn’t very fun to be around right now.” Jake tried to explain it the best he could without upsetting Dot. “But while mama rests and recovers, you get to hang out with me and Rooster and boy do I love when I get to hang out with you.”

��What’s a spween?” Dot asked softly as Jake held his niece close to his chest, kissing the top of her head as he smiled against her hair.

“An organ, it sits right here��“ He pressed his fingertip into Dot's side and she giggled. “Mamma didn’t need hers anymore so the doctor took it out of her before it could make her sick.”

“And I get to hang out wif Tooster too?”

“Mmhmm, he’s with mama now but what we’re gonna do when we get home is start packing some of your things up because when Mama comes home you guys are gonna go live with Tooster at his place.”

“Oh shit for real?” Payback raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood watching the sun rise with Amilia, Jake and Odette. “That’s huge.”

“In the grand scheme of everything else that’s happened in the past twenty four hours I highly doubt that’s what you're shocked at.” Amilia scoffed as she stood from the swinging chair. She paused as she crouched to boop Dot on the nose. “See you cheeky girl when I’m looking at ya.” Dot smiled back before she popped one of her thumbs in her mouth, an anxious tick she’d started to develop. “See ya Jake.” Amilia turned her attention to Jake as she smiled. Leaning in to kiss his still tear stained cheek. “I’m still pretty keen on Preston’s, just text me when things cool down for you.”

“Yes ma’am.” Amilia was about to tell Jake off for calling her ma’am again, but she accepted it as a terms of endearment and left it at that.

“You know you have a job interview with Penny at one right?” Payback looked at his phone, showing Amilia the date that was clearly displayed on the Home Screen.

“I thought today was yesterday still, fuck!” She groaned. “Everythings fucking stupid here, your booze, your road rules, your stupid politics, it all makes no sense—“ Amilia stormed into Paybacks place and all he did was laugh, turning back to Jake who just sat there in the front porch with Dot in his lap. Rocking gently to keep her calm.

“Hey man, my doors always open if you need someone to talk to, you gotta offload some pressure.” Reuben was a good friend, he always had everyone’s back. Jake really did appreciate the offer.

“I think I’m gonna lose my best friend in all this mess man.” Jake held back more tears, like fuck was he about to cry in front of Odette. Biting his bottom lip as he took a deep breath, Jake sighed. “Some way he’s gonna take her, even if it is just emotionally, she’s gonna take it out on me and I’ll have no choice but to take it on the chin because I’d rather lose her and have her be alive than to lose her all together.”

“You’re doing everything you can Hangman, don’t forget that.” Payback knew whatever had happened between you and Jake had been enough to have him second guessing his entire role in your life. But he’d let it play out a little longer before running any sort of intervention.

“I wanna go home now—“ Dot mumbled against Jake's chest. He kissed her temple and agreed knowing that home was the best place for her to be right now.

“Let’s go home bubba, let’s go home.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*

Tags: @a-serene-place-to-be @lilyevanswhore @thescarletknight2014 @blindedbythelightt @averyhotchner @emma8895eb @blairfox04 @caitsymichelle13 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @teacupsandtopgun @aemondssiut @feltonswifesworld87 @akalei349 @notjustsomeblonde @americaarse @avaleineandafryingpan @phoenix1388 @xoxabs88xox @je-suis-prest-rachel @pono-pura-vida @rosiahills22 @starset21 @anarchyrising @caidi-paris @starkleila @criticalroleobssedperson @enchantingdreamergothprune @flrboyd @emma8895eb

#terms of endearment// bradley bradshaw #terms of endearment// jake seresin #bradleybradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin x oc

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drarrily-we-row-along · 1 year

Text

Dress

"Don't laugh!" Draco shouted through the door of their bedroom.

He rolled his eyes and turned the page of his quidditch magazine. "Draco, I never laugh at your new clothes," he called back. It was true, he didn't, Draco sometimes picked the loudest, most ostentatious patterns imaginable; sometimes he picked cloaks that changed color based on his mood; once, memorably, he'd even found a hat with enormous peacock feathers. He'd never laughed, because he understood that clothes were an outlet for Draco, a way of being who he felt like he was on the inside. "I promise," he added.

When the door didn't open after a few more moments of silence, Harry set down his magazine, "Draco?"

"Yes," the other man said through the door. "Yes, coming."

The door opened a crack but Draco didn't emerge, "Promise," he said. "Swear on our marriage and our nonexistent children that you won't laugh."

"Baby," he said, standing from the couch and moving toward the door. "I promise. I won't laugh."

"Sit down," Draco said, peaking around the corner, just his forehead and eyes visible. "Sit down and close your eyes. I can't do it if you're looking at me."

He frowned but did as Draco asked.

The door creaked as it opened the rest of the way, and the sound of Draco's bare feet padding across the floor made the pit of Harry's stomach warm. He could feel Draco's presence in front of him, knowing that his husband was standing there looking at him, weighing him.

"Babe," he said, holding his hands out and waiting for Draco's to fill them. His fingers clasped Harry's, shaking just a little. "Hey," he said softly, "I love you. All of you. I'm not going to laugh."

After a shaking exhale, Draco gave Harry's hands a squeeze and took a step back, "Open your eyes," he murmured.

Harry was not in any way prepared for the sight before him. Draco was wearing a simple green dress, a low v-neck with thin straps, it was fitted through the bust and cinched at the waist. The whole dress was layered with chiffon that gave it a soft, dreamy quality; the skirt was full and with the layers of chiffon, Harry knew it would flare out if he twirled. He swallowed, "Wow," he managed after a moment.

"It's a lot, I know-" Draco started, tucking a strand of hair back behind his ear, "and I-"

"You look fucking gorgeous," Harry interrupted. "Let me see the back?"

Slowly, Draco turned, showing Harry an equally deep v in the back with a crisscross of thin straps that helped to keep the top of the dress tight to his torso. All of the freckles he'd gotten in the sun on their vacation last month were a stark contrast to the pale of his skin.

"You look amazing," he said again as Draco turned to face him once more.

Draco ducked his head, cheeks flushed a lovely pink. Harry was about to ask him to do a real spin so he could admire the skirt when Draco blurted, "I don't think I'm always a boy."

He blinked but before he could say anything, Draco continued.

"And I don't think I'm a girl," he said uncertainly. "I just," he shrugged, helplessly, eyes welling up with tears, "I think there's something broken inside of me," he whispered.

"Oh," Harry said, standing and pulling him into his arms, "sweetheart, no." He kissed Draco's temple, "there's nothing wrong with you. It's alright," he added, mentally thanking Ginny for the lecture she'd given him three years ago about one of her nonbinary team mates. "Maybe you're just nonbinary. It's alright," he repeated, holding Draco's trembling body closer.

"You thought you married a man," Draco blurted as he clung to Harry's jumper, face hidden against his shoulder. "I don't-"

"Hey," he said softly, pulling back a bit so that he could meet Draco's eyes, "sweetheart," he murmured, heart aching with the thought that Draco might have been keeping this from him because he was afraid of how Harry might react. "I love you. It doesn't matter to me what you identify as, it won't change that I love you. I love the person you are," he said, "Everything else is just how you get to feel comfortable in your own skin. I want you to be happy."

"I don't know who I am," Draco whispered.

He nodded and pressed a kiss to Draco's forehead, "I'd like to be with you while you find out, if you'll let me?"

Draco swallowed, gaze flickering between Harry's eyes, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, love. I'm positive."

Slowly Draco nodded, "I'd like that."

He kissed Draco's cheek, "Can I admire you in your new dress a little more?"

With a shy little smile that Harry utterly adored, Draco nodded and stepped back, wiping his eyes.

"Well, give us a proper spin, then," Harry said.

Draco spun and the skirt flared, twirling around as Draco laughed, face open and radiant in a way that Harry wasn't sure he'd ever seen.

"I should take you out," Harry said, capturing him in his spinning and pulling Draco into his arms again before starting to dance around the living room. "We should go out dancing."

Draco shook his head, "what would people say?"

"That you're gorgeous," he said, "but respectfully because if they didn't say it respectfully, I'd punch them."

"Harry," Draco sighed, "the press-"

"What if we went to a muggle place?" he interrupted because he knew that Draco was right but he didn't want Draco to think there was anything that Harry was ashamed of about this. "Just until you feel more confident in who you are? What if we go out and experiment together? Give you a chance to feel comfortable in your skin before we let the world know?" He tucked a strand of hair behind Draco's ear, "I want to show you off," he added, knowing how Draco loved to be seen in his new things, "you deserve to be admired in this beautiful dress."

"Are you sure?" he asked. And in the question Harry heard a thousand other insecurities.

"I've never been more sure of anything than I am of you," he replied, holding Draco's gaze with his own. "You are the love of my life. No matter what. I love you and I just want you to love you as much as I do."

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

Read more of my fics

#nonbinary draco #insecure draco #supportive harry #drarry #love #soft #gentle harry #fluff #acceptance #finding out who you are #100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #established relationships #married drarry

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avatarmerida · 1 year

Text

Um idk what to say about this except Hunter deserves to receive more compliments and Amity has never known how to process Willow’s taste in men

“Okay guys, just gimme like 10 minutes, okay?” Willow said, running eagerly ahead. “I just wanna check on my plants real quick. I’m sure they’re okay but I just wanna be totally sure because I-.”

“Go on, we’ll be fine!” Said Amity, seeing Willow was slowing herself down for their sake but desperately wanted to run ahead. Willow didn’t need to be told twice as she darted full speed up the stairs to her room. From the sound of it, her plants were just fine and delighted to see her. As they headed back to the Owl House, Willow’s house was on the way and when she had asked if they could make a quick pit stop Camila saw nothing wrong so long as they were quick and stayed together.

Hunter smiled at the distant sound of Willow happily greeting her plants as he looked around the living room, suddenly aware that it looked stuck in time. A few months ago it was brimming with life and light, and now it was dark and cold without Willow and her dads gracing the rooms with their love and laughter.

“Hey, what are these?” Hunter asked, turning to the dining room table which was covered in glossy brightly colored books.

“Oh, those are just some silly magazines Willow and I used to read when we’d do our homework,” said Amity as she walked in from the kitchen, the vibrant colors reminding her of a less chaotic time. “We would fill out the quizzes inside and gush about these bard coven bands and argue over who our favorite was.”

“Really? Heh.” Hunter flipped through the pages with a quizzical smirk, remembering Willow had once mentioned listening to a band once while they were messaging on penstagram back when they had first met. “Who was Willow’s favorite?”

“Take a guess.”

“Probably the most handsome one, right?” He said pointing to the obvious front man whose face was featured much more than the other members in the collection of mini posters that occupied the series of pages.

“Uh, not exactly,” said Amity, pointing to the corner to the “mysterious loner” of the group. His smile was more reserved than the others and his overall demeanor carried something... familiar.

“Him? Really?” Hunter chuckled, swearing he saw imprints of faded green lipstick stains near his photo. He wondered just how long they had been fading.

“I dunno, Willow has... unique taste.” Amity said with a shrug and slightly soured look. “We very rarely agree on things like that. I mean, she does not get Azura like at all, which just doesn’t make sense if I’m being honest, because I think...”

As Amity continued ranting, Hunter flipped through the pages and read the silly answers written in Willow’s bubbly handwriting, each ‘I’ dotted with a flower and the words twirling at the end as though they were carefully arranged vines. He treated her circled answers like a treasured artifact, admiring the little hearts and daisies she doodled in the corner of the pages. He also couldn’t help but want to take the silly quiz himself and see if their answers matched.

“...but I guess disagreeing can inspire debates. I mean, like the other day I was telling her how when I first met you I called you scrawny and that practically set her off because when she first met you she thought you were sooo cute, so obviously we don’t-.”

“She thought I was cute?” Hunter repeated, tuning back into Amity's rambling.

“Huh? Oh.” Amity’s hand sprang to her mouth, quickly realizing she should not have said that. “Uh maybe? Ya know, ha, it was so long ago, I might be misremembering. Actually, she might have been talking about a wet cat she saw on her way to school so actually-.”

“You just said you were talking about it yesterday.”

“Did I say that? You know, it was so long ago who can really remember what I said, we should-.”

“Amity, if you’re gonna make fun of me could you at least not use Willow? I don’t know why you’d think-.”

“I’m not making fun of you! I just, uh...” Amity insisted, quickly looking back at the staircase to make sure Willow wasn’t coming back yet. She changed her voice to a harsh whisper. “Ugh, okay listen, Willow would kill me if she knew I told you this but... do you remember before Halloween when I told you to change out of your costume?”

“Yeah?”

“She was actually really upset that I said that because she thought that you looked... handsome.”

Now THAT is a look

“Me?” Hunter asked as though there was someone else she could’ve been referring to.

DON’T listen to her.

“Yeah?” Amity replied, still unable to give a reason. “I mean, she was so mad at me for telling you to change, she threatened to summon a cactus to my bus seat before I sat down.” Amity laughed at the memory, knowing Willow was only a little serious about following through. “And she stared at the photo she took of you like the entire ride, like you were a magazine model or something.”

“She thought I looked... handsome? In my costume? Like the costume I’m wearing right now?”

“Shh! Yes, but you can’t tell her I told you,” said Amity, looking around paranoid. “I wouldn’t lie about that though, I promise.”

Hunter made his way into the living room, finding his reflection for the first time in a hall mirror. It was dusty but still he could see the difference from the last time he had seen his own face. There was a lot to process. Days ago he looked completely different and now it was though he had suddenly aged, he was tired and dirty and covered with scars.

“Do you think... she still thinks I look handsome in it?” He said, his hand tracing his newest scar. “Ya know, with how... different I look?”

“Well,” Amity started, knowing there was more within the inquiry. “She also talked about how much she liked you, ya know? The way you talk, what you talk about-

“She never mentioned my voice being... annoying?”

“No, actually,” Amity said, realizing Willow was probably the only person she had never heard refer to it in such a way, even as a joke. “Which is saying something because she used to always say that having bad eyesight made her hearing better,” Amity recalled. “I don’t know if that’s true or not but Even when you wore those hideous shoes with the holes all over them she still thought you were so cool... for some reason.”

Handsome AND cool? It seemed too good to be true.

“Does she... talk about me a lot?”

“Ya know, if you really wanna know what Willow thinks about you then you should ask her,” said Amity softly, putting her hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “But don’t tell her you talked to me, otherwise she’ll get suspicious.”

“But has she said anything about... the way I look now?”

“Oh no, you’re not getting any more information from me!” said Amity dramatically, walking back to the kitchen table. “I’ve said too much already, if she ever found out that I said any of this I’d have more than a cactus to worry about.”

“But why wouldn’t she want me to know? Is she embarrassed?”

“Well I dunno, do you tell Willow you think she looks nice every time you think she looks nice?”

Hunter opened his mouth to offer a smug response before he realized that while he did in fact let Willow know she looked nice it was usually agreeing with someone. She would walk down to the basement to show off a new dress she had found while thrift shopping with Vee and wanted to show how nicely it complimented the cardigan Hunter had repaired for her and Hunter would be in awe of how she always managed to pick colors that brought out her eyes. He would think how lovely, how stunning, how utterly beautiful she looked but he never said these words.

Instead, Gus would usually deliver the compliment. He’d say “Wow, Willow you look great!” and then nudge Hunter in the ribs with his elbow as he’d raise an eyebrow and say “Doesn’t she Hunter?” Willow would look at him with anticipating eyes for his thoughts, but the sparkle that found her eyes with her expectations only increased the things to say, and Hunter would end up only being able to nod in agreement or mumble a simple “yes.”

Is that how he made Willow feel? How could he ever...?

“Fair point,” He cleared his throat and tried not to convey the journey his mind was on and hoping he seemed like he was totally normal about the question. “Thank you for your clarification, I shall keep the matter between us.”

“You’re not gonna act... weird about this are you?” Amity asked, fairly certain she already knew the answer.

“Me? Weird? No! W-w-why would I be weird about this?” Hunter sputtered nervously.

Oh, she definitely already knew the answer.

“Okay, well I hear her coming back so zip it,” ordered Amity. “If I wake up with a cactus in my sleeping bag, I’m taking you down with me, spaceman.”

Hunter wouldn't know how to bring it up even if he wanted to.

“Sorry it took so long,” said Willow, entering the room on a vine. “But they’re doing great, luckily the automatic water system I instilled has been working perfectly.”

“That’s great, Willow.” said Amity with a smile.

“Yeah that’s totally great!” agreed Hunter, his voice sounding panicked for no apparent reason. “Awesome! Cool! Yeah...”

“Yeah,” agreed Willow, confused by the room’s vibe. “But uh, we should probably get back to the others. I don’t want Camila to worry.”

“Oh yeah, good idea,” agreed Hunter.

“Oh, before I forget,” said Willow, pulling something off her wrist. “I found this yellow scrunchie in my room and I thought since your hair is longer again, you could use it to keep your hair out of your eyes.”

“Really?” he said, as she slipped the hair tie onto his wrist. “Thanks, Willow.”

“’Course,” she said with a smile. “It’s your color, after all. Plus we gotta make sure we can see that pretty face of yours.” She added with a wink.

“Haha yeah o-o-okay,” he said with a gulp. “I should uh, g-g-go check if the coast is clear.”

He ran ahead as Willow chucked to herself, clearly pleased with his reaction. She watched as he ran to the doorway and pulled his hair back into a ponytail and secured it with Willow’s scrunchie.

“Woah, did it just get hotter in here?” Willow whispered to Amity, a faint crimson gracing her cheeks as she watched fondly as he scanned the outside area, his pulled back hair making it easier for her to see his defined jawline. Before Amity could offer her comment on the change in temperature, Willow cut her off as she continued in a dreamy tone. “Never mind, I think it’s just Hunter. If ya know what I mean.” she added playfully, bumping Amity’s arm with her elbow.

“I really, reeeally don't,” groaned Amity as though she was in physical pain, having endured this talk for months in the human realm and now realizing that there was no end in sight. “You have got to stop saying things that to me I am begging you!” Amity pleaded.

“I’ll stop when he stops,” said Willow with a shrug, fanning herself with her hand for emphasis (half to upset Amity further and half because she was truly grateful she had found that scrunchie).

#huntlow #winter toh #willow park #hunter toh #toh #huntlow fanfiction #the owl house #amity blight

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dreaming-of-mossballs · 3 months

Text

Happy New Year, Captain. - (Gepard x florist!reader)

Summary: The Captain of the Silvermane Guards is away for a military expedition. Although he isn’t here to celebrate the new year with the rest of Belobog, you’re determined to make sure he knows he’s loved. By both you and everyone around him.

▸ Genre(s): fluff

▸ Word Count: 7k

▸ Tags: Gepard x reader

▸ Warnings: food mentions

A/N: This is part of my florist!reader series, but can be read as a one-shot. Check the masterlist for more! If it’s broken (I swear to fuckijg god—) you can use the tag search function. Type in Mossball_Writing into the search bar.

Love you all and Happy New Year! (SHUT UP I KNOW ITS FEBRUARY I MADE THIS TWO MONTHS AGO)

MASTERLIST

Midday in Belobog was as crisp as ever.

You stood in the open-air plaza of the administrative district, leaning against the wall of the quaint little newspaper shop.

Vaska— your co-worker and friend at the Eversummer Florist’s— had her back turned to the blustery winter wind, which was only offset by the mocha-colored coat draped over her head and shoulders. Her teeth chattered like a broken phonograph, and her cheeks had been burned red by the cold. You stared at her, brow knitted worriedly.

“Hey uh… Vaska? Don’t you think it’s time we get going?”

Tilting your head at her and pulling your coat closer to your form, you gave her a sheepish smile. “We’ve been here for forty-five minutes,”

Her head shot up from where it was buried in the book grasped between her hands. The trademark green beret of the flower shop clung onto her head for dear life.

“What??” Vaska protested. “No, no, no. I’m a hair’s length from the good part! Just—,”

She resumed staring at the page again.

“—a few more pages. I swear. I can’t afford this book until next week. By the time I can get it, spoilers will be everywhere!”

You sniffled, wincing at the cold air that nipped at your nose. “If you want, I can always stuff potting soil in your ears. Free of charge, too,”

“Five more minutes,” she said, pursing her lips. “You won’t regret it,”

“Maybe I won’t, but you will,” you retorted. “Your lips are purple!”

Vaska raised a mitten in a visual effort to block your words. “I can survive a cold. What I cannot survive, however, is someone SPOILING the long-awaited sequel to Tale of the Winterlands,” Your friend tossed her head dramatically, causing strands of light brown hair to catch on her eyes and mouth. She spat them out indignantly.

You lowered your head, dragged your palms over your cheeks, and let your jaw go slack with a groan.

“Fine. You win. Just let me get my mail in the meantime, okay?”

Vaska whipped her head towards you with sparkles in her eyes. “(Y/N),” she gasped. “You’re a godsend!”

You promptly turned your heels and headed off in the direction of city hall, chuckling to yourself as you went. You remembered the way you used to bounce with excitement every time a new mining robot was delivered to your division and you got the honor of testing it out.

We all deserve to be a little giddy about our hobbies sometimes. She works as hard as I do, if not more.

You felt the corners of your lips rise into a smile as you strolled briskly next to the flower beds lining the sidewalk. Aside from a thin coating of frost, they looked bright and lively against the backdrop of the yellow brick wall.

Ah. First snow. I wonder if Gepard has had any luck resurrecting those, you pondered, bending over to peer at them. You lifted your head, only to jolt backward at the sight of familiar (and dashing) blue eyes in front of you.

“OHMYAEONS—“ you shrieked before clamping your hands over your mouth.

But a wave of disappointment soon swept over you. Those eyes you longed to see so badly were merely the centerpiece of a poster, advertising recruitment for the Silvermane Guards. Gepard’s eyes stared imposingly at the plaza behind you.

The artist did a really good job capturing his likeness. You sighed. It was almost uncanny how accurate the determination in his face was.

You rested a hand against the worn parchment, trailing it over a caption that read, ‘You are the pride of the Architects. Help defend their city! Join the Silvermane Guards Today!’, and ‘Great dental benefits!’

Of course, you knew that the reality was far less than glamorous.

Your friend, Gepard Landau, the Captain of the Silvermane Guards and a Belobogian noble, had been away on a mission for a month and a half fighting the Fragmentum. You’d had your fair share of run-ins with the monsters birthed from the residue of a stellaron. They dragged their feet and uttered ghastly moans as they wandered about the abandoned sectors of your hometown. You were immediately swept into the undercurrent of anxiety as images of threats he had to face began to bubble up within your brain.

To quell the simmering fear inside you, you slapped your face lightly with your mittened hands.

He’s perfectly fine! He’s the captain, for Qlipoth’s sake. He’s probably been on the field since he was able to walk, you exhaled heavily, your worries escaping into the air in the form of a small cloud of condensation.

Doesn’t change the fact that I miss him, though,

You weren’t allowed to contact Gepard. No one was, for fear of compromising military safety. Since the Fragmentum managed to attach itself to automatons, there was a possibility that they could receive unfiltered transmissions and determine the location of the troops. The thought in itself made your skin prickle.

Shaking yourself to clear the pangs of loss from your chest, you rounded the corner to City Hall, or the Administrative Office, or as others called it.

It had an air of business about it, maybe due to the constant stream of robed officials streaming out from its doors. They all barked orders at each other— filled with unnecessarily complicated words, you might add—, and pushed up their glasses in the same way. It bored you to death. But until you could get a permanent residence on the Surface, you’d have to keep collecting your mail from this labyrinth of grumpy office workers.

But today, you could hardly see the grilled glass doors past a crowd of people. Through the rapid chatter and the collision of bodies, you heard an official’s voice you recognized,

Manya.

You raised yourself on the balls of your feet to get a better look. Her hair, the color of artificially minty ice cream was frizzy and unkempt, and her thickly framed glasses were taped together at the end piece. Her words barely made it past the clamor of the crowd.

“If you want to register for a—“ She grunted in pain sharply. “Ugh! Esteemed citizen, please stop elbowing me. If you want to sign up for a telephone time, please form a single file line to the right of the lamp post. I repeat, the right,”

Any attempt to take a step forward was futile. You immediately got jostled by a heavyset woman from the right, causing you to collide with the metal bearings of someone’s briefcase. Ouch.

Against all odds, Manya’s piercing red eyes landed on you.

“Manya—?” You raised your voice, hoping to reach her above the crowd. “What’s—,”

She pushed through the throngs of people while her robes billowed with fury. Her hand grasped your forearm, harshly enough that you thought it might bruise, and proceeded to drag you into the building, which was heated with Geomarrow lamps and the sweat of panicking managers. It looked like a scene in a thriller opera, where the vengeful protagonist tears an office apart looking for information about his father’s killer.

Manya practically shoved you into the wall of cluster box units. “Get it—,” she hissed, “—and go,”

“Yeesh,” you exclaimed, fiddling with the key to your mailbox (and nearly dropping it in the meantime). “Can I at least ask what the commotion is all about?”

She turned around from where she was stalking off, a vein on her forehead suddenly becoming more pronounced.

“I do have matters to attend to, but I suppose it’s my duty to attend to the concerns of the citizens, no matter how trivial they may be,” she replied through gritted teeth. “For the new year, Qlipoth Fort allows citizens to contact family in the Guards using their telecommunications system,”

You widened your eyes as she continued.

“Although, they haven’t quite flushed out the system yet. The one for organizing time slots. It’s like herding warp trotters,”

“Um,” you paused. “Okay, how would you sign up for a time then?”

She grimaced. “Oh, not you too. Are you actually interested in one or just curious? Because I think I might burst a blood vessel if—,”

“I am interested, I swear!” You cut in. “I know I’m usually just curious, but I wouldn’t waste your time at a time as hectic as this,”

You’d think a City Hall official would actually enjoy answering questions, you muttered inwardly.

Manya sighed heavily. “Fine. Take a ticket from the dispenser outside and wait in line. When you’re called, they have a form you can fill out to make an appointment to speak with your family member,”

And as quick as she came, Manya spun on her heels and went back to managing the crowd at the door. You collected your mail and did as she ordered. The mass of people had since gathered into a more manageable line, although it was anything but single-file. Peering at the ticket, which was printed in very light ink, you were able to discern the number you were given. 122. You squinted your eyes in order to make out the fine print and gasped.

“Expected three hours until service?!?” You choked out.

Well, in that case, I can get back to Vaska, you shrugged. On your way out, you spotted a few complimentary hand warmers stationed at the front desk, along with the latest edition of the* Crystal* Daily at the front counter.

“Actually… you wouldn’t mind if I took some of these, right?” You inquired the bleary-eyed receptionist.

He blinked tiredly in response.

“Sweet. Have a good day,”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Vaska was looking a little worse for wear when you got back. It had been less than ten minutes, but she had chosen a foldable sign as cover and was squatting behind it. Her green eyes flicked upwards as she heard the plodding of your boots towards her.

“How’s the book so far?” You said, glancing around at the passerby before joining her on the ground.

“(Y/N), if I’m being honest with you,” she paused. “I am so happy I could literally die right now,”

Vaska stared at you stone-faced before her expression became giddy. She pressed the book close to her chest, squealing with glee.

“Whoa there, don’t you think that’s a little extreme?” You said, amused.

“Not in the slightest,” she swooned. “Oh Artem, I missed him so much! His fiery passion hasn’t dimmed a bit,” she stated dramatically while fanning herself with her hand (Which she immediately regretted, as it was the middle of winter).

“Oh Vaska, you’re blushing so hard you could melt a glacier,” you teased.

“Two glaciers,” she corrected you matter-of-factly. Her eyes widened as a sudden shadow fell over the two of you. Fizz, the girl who manned the desk at the newspaper shop, was standing with her hands on her hips, blotting out the sun reflecting off the snow-covered buildings.

“While I do appreciate a fellow Tales fan,” she mused. “This is beginning to get a bit concerning. If you guys aren’t going to make a purchase, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave. Sorry!”

Vaska’s soul seemed to leave her body that very moment.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up. “That’s fine! We’re sorry for overstaying our welcome. I know you have a business to run here,”

“No worries, you two! I’d give it to you, but a girl’s gotta put food on the table,” Fizz shrugged. “I’m pleased you’re interested though,”

Fizz’s cheerful demeanor did little to ease Vaska’s thousand-yard stare.

As soon as you got far enough from the newspaper stand, the onslaught of your co-worker’s crushing despair was unstoppable. She crumpled to the cobblestone-like a wad of packing paper.

You groaned as you bent over to grasp her hood, which you used as a sort of anchor point to drag her across the ground. She made a pitiful sound that resembled a mouse being stepped on.

You sighed. “Come on. Let’s go home,”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

After tending to your wounded slug of a co-worker, you hopped downstairs to beat the frost off your jackets. Your eyes lit up as your phone rang in your apron with the signature ringtone you had assigned to Serval.

“Serval! What can I help a lovely lady such as yourself with today?” You greeted her while picking up the phone.

“Aw, you big sap!” Raucous laughter could be heard on the other side. The corners of your mouth rose into a smile.

“Molly and I just went on lunch break and I figured I’d give you a holler. Are you doing anything this Belobog Eve?”

Before you could say, “Solarflowers,” you had an answer.

“Yes, actually. I went to city hall today, and as it turns out, they’re doing this thing where you can call a loved one using the radios at Qlipoth Fort. All you have to do is sign up!”

“No way! They haven’t done that since things started getting bad in the Snow Plains,” Serval’s voice crackled. “I tried reaching them a few years back with a radio from the workshop, but Pela chewed me out, saying it was a ‘breach of military safety’,”

“Couldn’t imagine why,” you said with a snort.

“Hey, genius. I’m the main arms dealer for the Guards. I know what I’m doing,” she said, a smirk evident in her voice.

“Uh huh, uh huh,” you responded, touching your fingertips to your thumb absentmindedly. “Anyways, I signed up for a slot at ten o’clock, and I was thinking we could all go together to talk to Gepard,”

“Heck yeah! I’d really enjoy that!” Serval exclaimed. “By ‘we’, do you mean Lynx, Pela, and I?”

“You got it,” you said with a chuckle. You peered out at Qlipoth Fort through the windowpanes of the flower shop, the sunlight warming your face. “It’s alright if they can’t make it though. I know you’ve all got your plates full with all that military jargon,”

“Nonsense,” she tutted. “It’d be outrageous if they didn’t let us off for the New Year and… I’ll be honest with you, (Y/N). Sometimes us military folk are so caught up in our own business, we forget to connect with each other. It’s really nice to have you here to remind us we’re human too,”

You stifled a squeal of glee that was welling up in your throat. “Ah—“ you stuttered at the compliment. “I’m not sure how to respond to that. Just glad I can help out, I guess,”

Serval snickered. “Don’t worry your little heart about it. I’ll make sure we all be there. Meet you outside Qlipoth Fort an hour before?”

“Sure. See you soon!” You chirped.

She chuckled. “Rock on, (Y/N)!”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

The Belobog sky was especially mesmerizing that night, you thought.

It had a comforting simplicity you’d grown to appreciate ever since arriving on the surface. Every smattering of white against the royal blue backdrop seemed to hold your gaze as you wondered; just how old was that light reaching your eyes?

Some of the tapestries hung around the city attempted to emulate this feeling of smallness. They were woven with silk as if to imitate that same heaviness the night sky had.

Whilst you gazed at the stars, notes of soft jazz floated down from the balconies above the city where a group of street musicians were playing. You could feel the tremors of the bass beneath your feet thrumming slightly like a heartbeat, as the night ambiance blanketed you in a figurative sort of warmth.

Aeons, your neck was beginning to hurt.

“Hey— Jarilo-VI to (Y/N)—,” Serval’s voice reverberated loudly in your left ear.

A yelp of surprise sprang from your throat as you jolted away. Serval, Lynx, and Pela were standing directly in front of you, evidently enough they had been for some time.

“We were worried we’d be late because we were tuning up the instruments for a New Years show, but it seems like our worries were unwarranted,” Serval laughed, shrill and high. The lamplight glinted off of her multitude of metal accessories.

“Ack! You guys—,” you blurted. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here?!”

“You seemed very intent on keeping your eyes glued to the sky,” Pela pushed her glasses up thoughtfully, trying to hide her labored breath. She looked disheveled, as if she had run here.

Lynx sided closer to you with wide eyes. “Perhaps… you observed an anomaly?”

You chuckled. “No, nothing of the sort. I was just thinking that the star I was looking at was really bright,”

She hummed in response— the ears on her adorable fluffy hat bouncing side to side— and reached for your forearm, raising it to point at the same patch of sky you were looking at before.

“Ah, that star?” Lynx closed one eye to better align her field of view with your own. “That’s Altair. The one underneath the edge of the Tundra Star System,”

“Altair? That’s a pretty unusual name,”

“Yep. I heard it came from somewhere far away, from a small planet called Earth. They believed this particular star was waiting to reunite with another,”

You paused in thought for a moment, the silence causing the other two to tilt their heads.

What a cute little story.

Maybe these kinds of stories were easier to think up when you’d lived under the stars all your life. But even before the Underworld had closed, all you had of the sky were distant, blurry memories. These ideas struck an unfamiliar chord within you.

“Does it ever meet the other star?”

“I’m not certain,” Lynx mused. “The only other star we know of that fits the legend died a long, long time ago unfortunately,”

“Aw,” you pouted. “That’s a shame,”

Pela cleared her throat. “I hate to ruin an intellectual conversation such as this, but it’s in our best interest to get going. The line is already growing at the top of Qlipoth Fort,”

“You can see that??” You squinted. “Crud. I got you guys some gifts but those will have to wait,”

Pela nodded. “Yes, let’s hurry while we—,”

Your face split into a wide grin. “Race ya!”

You dug the soles of your shoes in and ran straight for the stairs to Qlipoth Fort. The others followed suit, a string of indignant shouts and laughter echoing into the night air.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

If being in the mines had been stifling, that was nothing compared to the crowds outside the Fort. Red-faced officials cupped their hands and yelled in an attempt to be heard over the clamor of the mob. You spotted Manya leaning against a wall, any light she once had in her eyes totally gone.

“—a line! Get into three lines! Please for the love of the Preservation—,” someone shouted.

Pela received a particularly hard bump to the shoulder, sending her hurtling directly into your rib cage with a squeak. Through the midst of the chaos, you caught a glimpse of Serval’s arm, adorned with wristbands, flailing a ways away. She pried the people in front of her apart with vigor; a grunt that sounded like a creaking glacier erupted from her mouth to the shock of the strangers closest to her.

“Hold tight you two!” She ordered. “I’m trained to deal with this— you’ve seen Luka, right?”

“And just how is that supposed to be relevant??” You barked back before a stray elbow caught you in the face. You let out a pained grunt and held your nose.

Serval’s face peeked over the crowd as she wove closer to you. “His boxing stance— do that. Arms in front of your face, legs a shoulder-width apart. It’s saved a few of my concert-goers from gettin’ crushed,”

You did as she instructed; the next time someone jostled you and Pela, you felt far less shaken up. Swiveling your head, you realized something was off.

“Hey, has anyone seen Lynx?”

You scanned the crowd for her signature blue hat but to no avail.

“Lynx? Lynx???” Pela called frantically. Out of the blue, you spotted a small figure clad in blue and purple clinging to one of the pillars supporting the overhanging roof of the fort. Lynx looked unbothered, a red rope anchored around the pillar and her feet planted firmly into the side in a classic climber’s stance.

Well, that’s one way to get around it, you shook your head vigorously. The hair on your neck stood up as the speakers belonging to the fort’s PA system crackled to life.

“Attention, Belobog citizens,” a male voice announced. “We’re aware that it has been a few years since the Fort has been able to do this, but please refrain from physically assaulting each other… And to the climber on the right-hand side of the building, that was clever, but this is not the Snow Plains,”

A good-humored chuckle rippled through the crowd. Finally, officials were able to sort attendees into lines depending on what time their call was. You were able to take a long, relaxing breath and bask in the warmth of the heaters surrounding the building, your chest rising and falling as you rested the back of your head against the wall. Serval hummed contentedly beside you as Pela combed through her book.

Blinking your eyes open, your hands darted for your leather messenger bag.

“Oh! About those gifts I got you guys… here!” You tossed the items one by one to your companions. “Glasses straps for Pela… a multi-tool for Serval… and fish pot warmers for Lynx!”

Serval’s eyes sparkled as she fiddled with out the multi-tool, and then proceeded to fill with tears of laughter as you wrapped a scarf around Lynx’s head so that only her eyes were showing, and she waved her quilted fish hands around like some sort of pot warmer ninja. The deadpan expression on her face made the whole ordeal even funnier.

“You know…” you spoke up. “We oughta meet up for holidays more often,”

“Too right!” Serval nodded with a bright smile. You honestly thought you could wait there forever with them, laughing and talking like this.

However, you would find that possibility was closer than it seemed.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

“Hey uh— Pela, do you have a watch?” You asked after some time had passed.

“Yes, why?” She replied.

“I just think it’s been a little longer than an hour,” you said offhandedly, flicking your gaze to the side.

Maybe you were just impatient. From your fast-paced life in the mines, of course. (Not because your heart was swelling with more anticipation than it could handle.)

“Erm…” she peered closely at her gilded watch. “No, you’re right, (Y/N). It’s been an hour and 45 minutes,”

You let out a withering sigh as Lynx piped up.

“Maybe there’s a holdup? There’s a lot of people, after all. If one person goes a minute over, the entire schedule gets pushed back a minute,”

“Yeah… that sounds about right, I guess,” you shrugged. Waiting a little more wouldn’t hurt, you supposed.

That is until another 45 minutes passed with you four waiting in the cold.

“Aeons, I am SO. HUNGRY.” Serval pounded her fist lightly on the wall. “What in the Snow Plains is going on in there??”

“Didn’t you get something to eat before you came here?” Pela quipped.

“Yes, but waiting makes me pretty damn hungry,” she groaned. Her stomach growled in agreement.

Lynx looked up at her sister from where she was sitting by a fire hastily scraped together. She outstretched her arm, a tin of sardines in the palm of her hand.

“Thanks, Lynxy,” Serval said wistfully. Her eyes shot open as the large mahogany door to the fort creaked open. An aide accompanied by two guards stepped out into the turmoil.

“Attention, Citizens of Belobog,” she droned. “I know you may be confused as to why this is taking so long. Well… we’ve received reports that the line connecting our radios to the Silvermane camp has been taken out by the high winds. We’re not sure if it will be able to be repaired tonight, but, you are welcome to stay if you are able,”

And with that announcement, the aide whisked inside, her robes trailing behind her as the crowd began to clamor in anger.

“You have got to be kidding,” Serval hissed. Pela nodded, her eye twitching with irritation. “If— if they had trusted me with the handling of the tech division—,”

You stopped listening as your hands fell to your sides in exasperation. But out of the corner of your eye, through the blurry silhouettes of people fettering away for the night— you caught a small but unmistakable glimpse of sadness on Lynx’s face.

Her face was downturned, her nose, scrunched up. You remember making that face in Natasha’s clinic as you did your best not to break down in front of her.

Placing a hand on Serval’s shoulder as waves of anger rolled off her, you spoke up.

“We’re staying,”

“Stay—? I can’t believe they just blew everyone off like that!” Serval snorted, followed by a sigh. “Why don’t we go to the workshop and break out one of my old radios?”

Pela shook her head frantically, curtains of her indigo hair flying everywhere. “We should definitely not do that. The logistics that that would succeed are very, very, low. Also—,”

“Not everyone is leaving,” you commented. You swiveled your head around. At least fifty of the original 120+ people remained. (Belobogians couldn’t be deterred that easily, you supposed.)

You glanced down at Lynx out of the corner of your eye. “If there’s even the off chance that they can get them working again, I want to try. I’ll even run to the florists to make us some sandwiches!”

Serval paused, seeming to think this was adequate.

“Hmph… You know I can’t pass up a good sandwich,” she put her hands on her hips with a smile. “And, you’re right. Maybe we’ll have a better chance of getting in touch with him if we stay,”

“That’s right,” You smiled. “Now, I’ll go take the trolley real quick. Call me if they fix them!”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

A few of the amenities you brought back included: a large wool blanket, a picnic basket with sandwiches and cookies, and the hand warmers you had grabbed earlier, which were especially for when the queue moved away from the heaters.

Serval was right. Waiting did make you hungry. You licked your lips contentedly after fishing a chilled veggie salad wrap. With your belly full and your body finally warm for the first time that night, you nearly drifted off to sleep until the doors flung open once more.

“Alright, everyone. We’ve gotten permission to fire communications up again. Thank you for being patient,” the same lady from earlier announced. “Please come this way and form a single-file line,”

Your head whipped around in confusion from the sudden turn of events.

“What happened? Just how long was I out?” You inquired Lynx.

“Approximately seven minutes,” she stated. “It’s around 23:50 right now,” The golden-haired girl turned away from you and darted into the building, along with Serval.

Things are finally coming along, you smiled to yourself.

In contrast to the curt PSA earlier, the inside of the Fort was well-rounded with good customer service. It ran like a freshly oiled automaton, with workers directing attendees to different booths, each with a trained operator. The room was filled with chatter echoing off the tiled floor and the sounds of dial tones coming from the radios, which were large blocks of metal with a handheld receiver attached by a wire.

The operator at your booth handed you the radio first, much to your surprise. The other line picked up with a slight buzz of static. Your heart began to race.

“Who would you like to speak to?” The voice on the other end crackled.

“Ah— Gepard Landau, please. Is he available?” You said, with a little less confidence than you’d have liked.

“The Captain? I’m sorry, but I don’t think we have the security clearance for that—,”

Serval vaulted across the table in the booth and grabbed the phone.

“Tory? Tory is that you?? We need to speak to Gepard,”

Pause.

“Like, right this instant. Could you go get him? Thanks. No— if anyone asks tell them I told you to do it. Now go get him!”

She smiled self-satisfactorily, sat down, and tossed the receiver to you while kicking her legs up. You swore you saw a bead of sweat roll down the operator’s face as you fumbled with the device— it was only saved by your pinkie miraculously hooking on the wire.

You tilted your body closer to Lynx and Pela as you listened to the sounds of idle chatter on the other end.

“[—for me?]”

You knew that voice. Your heart leaped as you held the receiver closer to your face.

“[Ahem— Hello?]”

“Why— yes. Um— h-hello!” You blurted out, caught off guard. You craned your head away from the radio with a start towards the jittery-looking operator. “Is there any way to turn this thing up?” You hissed.

“Yes, but please take care not to be too loud,” He rotated a dial at the top of the radio as your group sided closer together.

“[(Y/N)? Is that you?]” You caught a note of surprise in Gepard’s voice, which also had an edge of roughness to it as if he had been shouting orders earlier that day.

“Yep. Not just me though. We got Serval, Pela, and Lynx here too!” You smiled, making eye contact with the others. “Say ‘hi’ everyone!”

A chorus of greetings rang out, the words “big brother” and “Captain Gepard” sneaking into the mix.

“Geppie! So happy to hear from you,” Serval’s blue eyes sparkled as she chimed in. “How’s it holding up out there?”

“Ah, hello, Serval. I’m glad to see you’re doing well,”

Gepard wasted no time getting her up to date, just like a military briefing. You stood by, perplexed.

“We’re working hard to clear up the remaining Fragmentum. The weather has been on the unpredictable side, and it’s caused some of the tech to freeze over, but it’s nothing the Guards can’t handle. At the rate we’re going, we might finish early,”

You let out a small cheer.

He continued. “I hope you and Pela aren’t too swamped before the new year,”

“Hardly,” said Pela, who was pushing up her glasses. “Lady Bronya has done a wonderful job of managing the workload in the intelligence division,”

“That’s no small relief. How about you, Lynx? You’re not doing anything risky in the Snow Plains, are you?”

The golden-haired girl’s shoulders dropped petulantly. “Yes, brother. Our team is doing quite adequately, and it will continue that way as long as I am leading it. Don’t worry about me,”

Her cheeks began to puff up. You smiled. No one had ever worried about you like that before. (Although now that you had Vaska, all the worrying was done for you.)

Lynx handed the phone to Pela first, who cycled through her greetings in a somewhat robotic manner. Next came Serval, whom the operator had to tell to quiet down more than four times. It seemed that their banter never ceased even when they hadn’t seen each other for a whole month. Maybe she was taking this time to catch up, you thought to yourself. She nearly shouted goodbye at him by the time Pela had the sense to drag her away from the table.

You reached for the handheld radio next, confused at where to place your fingers because it was nothing like a traditional phone—

“[Ahem. Ahem— is this thing working? Captain, can you hear me?],” A pause. “[It’s Bronya,]”

Pela’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. You held the phone in your outstretched hand awkwardly as you eyes the others to see if they’d tell you what to do.

“[Lady Bronya, it’s a pleasure. I hope all is well in Belobog?]” Gepard inquired.

Bronya held steadfast conviction in her voice that struck you to your core.

“[As well is it could be, Captain, much due to your unyielding diligence in the Snow Plains,]”

You heard him exhale through his nose slightly. “[I’m not sure I deserve a compliment so grand, but I appreciate it nonetheless, Lady Bronya,]”

You stood rooted to the ground as you heard them hurl very formal-sounding compliments back and forth like snowballs. It was like a soap opera.

“[Ah, and don’t let me forget. (Y/N), thank you for your routine delivery of flowers to Qlipoth Fort. It really does boost morale,]” Bronya said.

Your heart swelled with pride. “It’s no matter at all, Lady Bronya,”

Something compelled you to bow to no one in particular. When you raised your head, more than one person had a raised eyebrow at your spectacle. Serval picked up on your sheepishness and leaned in close, her breath tickling your ear.

“I may have clued her in a bit,” she whispered to you. You covered your mouth with a devious smile.

“[Now, I’ll have to let you go now. There are a few last-minute orders I have to take care of. I wish you all a Happy New Year,]”

“You too, Lady Bronya!” Everyone cheered.

What an honor it was for the Supreme Guardian to grace you with her voice— you swooned. Oh dear. Is this how all Surface-dwellers felt?

It must be contagious, you thought as you wiped your forehead nervously.

“A-anyways, Lynx, how about you take the phone now?”

“Me—? Oh,” she seemed startled.

She picked it up gingerly. “Hi, big brother,”

Something about the way her voice sounded made you take a small step away from the table.

“[You sound healthy, Lynx,]” the Captain said with a softness to his voice you weren’t familiar with. “[Is everything all right there? How is father?]”

Lynx seemed to cradle the radio in the crook of her neck like a penguin would its chick.

“Yes, everything is fine, I— uhh— sorry,”

She paused for a moment, seeming to have lost the words she wanted to say. His voice filled the silence she left.

“[I hope you all know I do miss you, and I’m happy you decided to call,]”

Lynx’s eyes were locked on the table and you could see her feelings churning inside of her. You reached towards the radio slowly, turning down the dial that controlled the volume, and motioned to the others to take a few steps away.

Whatever Lynx wanted to say was her business and her business alone. You could wait a bit.

For a few minutes, she whispered into the phone, her eyes still downcast. When she called you all back over, her cheeks were tinted light pink and it was almost as if a large weight had been taken off of her shoulders.

The orange-haired operator interrupted your moment of bliss. “That was a nice gesture… but please don’t touch the radios,” he pleaded with you.

Your cheeks felt hot with embarrassment. Oops.

You grinned sheepishly, turning back to the radio as the others gathered around you once more.

“So… Gepard,”

The sound of clanking metal reached your ear as you looked off to the side. You could almost imagine him leaning in with that trademark intent expression on his face.

“I’m happy we were able to reach you today,” you spoke, a smile creeping into your voice.

“We really, really miss you. It’s because of you that we’re able to gather here today safe and sound,”

How badly you wished you could see him right now.

“We wanted to wish you a happy new year, so—,”

You cut off for a moment to build up anticipation. Everyone’s eyes were trained on you as you dipped your head down with laser focus and mouthed a countdown to them.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Happy New Year—,”

“Gepard!”

“Geppie!”

“Captain!”

“Elder brother!”

The other families at the other booths looked at you quizzically as a wave of silence swept over the high-ceilinged room.

“Um,” you cleared your throat. “Anyways, we’re almost out of time! Keep fighting hard out there, okay?”

“[Thank you. May the new year bring us prosperity,]” he said with steadfast resolve.

You smiled a soft smile, one filled with so much longing that you could no longer put into words.

“It will, I’m sure of it,”

“[Wait, (Y/N), listen closely. They’re firing the cannons,]”

They’re what?

Your next breath never made it past your throat. The faraway boom of three cannons firing reached your ears, followed by the raucous cheers of soldiers.

“[Happy New Year,]”

And with that, the dial on the side of the radio rang, signaling that your time was up.

You glanced at the group around you in the silence that followed. Lynx’s eyelashes were slightly wet.

“Well, I guess we should get going then,” you sighed.

“We didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Seval pouted, crossing her arms. “We’ll have to make up for it later when he comes back,”

Lynx and Pela nodded, gathering their belongings and pushing open the door to the chilly night air of Belobog.

You trailed behind the others as you exited the building, glancing up at the sky one last time. It wasn’t often you were out long enough for the lights of the city to finally dim and give you a splendid view of the nighttime theatre.

The others turned around, hearing you gasp out loud. A streak of light filled your vision, passing right next to the bright star you were looking at earlier. Than another. And another.

“Guys— look, it’s a star shower!” You pointed excitedly at the sky and spun around quickly; which in turn, caused your messenger bag to hit Pela in the face.

“Now that’s a stellar lookin’ sky if I’ve ever seen one,” Serval raised her hand above her eyes and laughed as you apologized profusely to Pela.

Now, you wondered, was Gepard seeing this too? It was the same sky, after all.

Lynx bounded up to you excitedly and with a slight smile, asked,

“Do you have a wish?”

A wish?

“I think…” you rested a hand on your chin thoughtfully.

“My wish? I want all of us to be safe and happy… For many, many years to come,”

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Bonus scene:

As you all went your separate ways, you noticed the light at the newspaper stand was still on.

You moseyed your way over there and rapped on the shutters with a fist.

“Hello? Is anyone still there?”

A shuffle and a groan was heard. Fizz, the bookkeeper, rose from behind a pile of boxes rubbing her eyes roughly.

“Oh! Aeons—,” you couldn’t stop yourself from exclaiming. “Are you okay??”

“Urgh…” Fizz stumbled over to the counter and checked her watch. “I must have fallen asleep while reading. I should have closed up four hours ago!” She groaned again. “What can I help you with?”

You stammered for a second. “I’m not sure if this is the appropriate time to ask, but do you have any of the sequel to Tale of the Winterlands?”

“Ah, I’m afraid we don’t. I can check when the next shipment is coming in though,” she replied helpfully. Fizz pushed aside a sheaf of papers. “Oh?”

You peered over the counter inquisitively.

“It looks like we do have one,” she said, matter-of-factly, turning back to you. “You want it?”

“Yes, please!” You bounced on your heels.

“That’ll be 2,500 credits. Would you like a bag?” She bent over to grab a notepad for your receipt.

You nodded. Fizz handed the book to you, taking less than a minute to prepare a card and tissue paper. She obviously had a lot of experience under her belt.

She handed the brown paper bag to you and you took off towards the hills.

“Thanks!” You shouted back at her. “Happy New Year!”

“You too,” Fizz said as she watched you sprint like a soldier coming home.

❆ — ❆ — ❆

Quiet as a mouse, you discarded your boots after entering the florist’s and started towards the back, not bothering to turn the lights on. Everyone was likely already asleep— the shop was all closed up for the night and the plants were bathed in comforting blue moonlight.

You climbed the small spiral staircase to the second floor where everyone slept, wincing as the floorboards creaked. You could spy a small sliver of light emanating from the bedroom you and Vaska shared.

Tapping the door lightly with your fingertips, you opened it. Vaska was in the midst of getting up to answer the door; she had a small candle in her hands and her favorite book lay on the hardwood floor. You didn’t even have to look at the cover to recognize the trademark dog-eared pages and dirt stains.

“(Y/N)!” She whispered. “Where on Jarilo-VI were you??”

“I’ll tell you in the morning, as I’ve had quite the eventful night,” you chuckled. “On the other hand, I got you something!”

You hoisted out the brown paper bag decorated with simple printed patterns to her. She took it from you and peeked inside.

A glass jar of popping candy and a book lay at the bottom of the bag. You watched in real time as she forgot how to breathe.

Vaska pulled the book out with one hand. Glanced at you. Glanced at the book again. She made a sound resembling a whistling kettle and flung herself at you with the force of a soldier, wrapping her arms around you.

“Shh—! Vaska, it’s like, one in the morning. If the boss hears you, you’ll be DEAD,”

You shot a warning glance towards the door. Thankfully, no sound was heart at the end of the hallway, where Meg’s quarters were.

She sniffled, her grip as tight as iron. “I’ll die happy then,”

You sighed. You patted the back of her head in the crook of your arm. How lucky you were to have a friend like her.

“Now, let’s get some sleep, shall we?”

2024 - Dreaming-of-Mossballs - Do not repost/translate without my permission - NO AI

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