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peachesofteal · 2 months

Text

Simple Math / Part Eleven

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 6k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Graphic depiction of domestic violence. This fic contains mature themes. Mention of pregnancy. Nurse!reader, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies. Bun is in pain, goes to a doctor. Dissociation. Lots of despair, fear, anxiety. The 141 reunites. Nightmares. Comfort. Tenderness. Angst. Welcome home.

“Knock knock.”

“Bunny.” Johnny murmurs, lifting an arm, urging you close, a moon to a tide.

“Hi.” You bend, moving into the hug, pressing your face to his neck for a quick second before straightening.

“I miss ye.” You survey him, glancing at the monitor, the brace on his leg and hip, the disconnected fluid line. He’s doing well. You’re so relieved to see it with your own eyes, ribs rattling with a long exhale. Satisfied, you smile, tension bleeding from your spine.

“Simon says you’re terrorizing your night nurse.”

“Am not. She’s jus’ not gentle, or quiet. Wakes me up.”

“That’s her job.” He scoffs, waving you off. You settle in the chair at his side, and he takes your hand in his, lifting it to his lips, dotting kisses across your knuckles. His affection is freeing, sweet and easy, a warm breeze on a spring day. It overflows your heart with warmth until you think it might spill over, and you go with it, following his lead, even though your better judgement, the girl in the mirror, wails.

“Ye look good. Better. Swellin’ gone down?” He cradles your chin, turning your face from left to right, inspecting with a crystal-clear sapphire gleam.

“Yeah, my shoulder is still sore but… yeah. I feel better.”

“’m glad. Simon keepin’ ye off yer feet all day then?”

“Oh my god.” You laugh. “He keeps telling me to lay down. Or asking if I want to take a nap.” Johnny chuckles.

“Sounds right. He’s a bit o’ a mother hen, that one. He cares though, we both do.”

“I know.” You squeeze his hand. “And I missed you too.”

“He said ye an’ him had a nice chat the other night?” Your cheeks burn. Oh god. Did he… “I’m a wee bit jealous.” He complains, turning his nose up and away in a mock pout, and you roll your eyes.

You laid in bed all night and thought about these moments. Thought about Simon’s mouth on yours, his hand on your ass, squeezing and stroking. You thought about how he tasted, how he smelled, the way he looked at you, like you were a part of their world, a piece of them.

And you thought about Johnny. Johnny alone here, Johnny trapped in the hospital, healing, unable to leave or even get out of bed. How anxious he must be, being separated from his family, how frustrating it is to spend so long trying to get better.

You wanted to give him something. Wanted to make him feel better, see him smile.

Here goes nothing.

Leaning, standing, you dip into his orbit, lightly bumping your noses together. It takes no time until his good hand is around the back of your neck, crashing your mouth into his, and he breathes you in, holding you steady, tongue and teeth and lips swirling together in a ubiquitous, overwhelming haze. He tastes like summer rain, the feeling in the air before a giant storm, electric and blazing, brilliant glow transferring between the two of you, lightning striking a mountaintop. He nips your bottom lip, heat flooding your stomach, and you pull away slowly, his eyes jeweled and shimmering, brilliantly blue.

“Bunny,” You try to swallow a quiet giggle and fail. “I’ll have to tell ye I’m jealous more often.”

“Don’t take advantage.” You playfully scold.

“Me? Take advantage?” He pretends to be outraged, voice piquing higher, and you laugh again. “How can I take advantage when ‘m the one stuck here in this bed while ye two are at home, playin’ house, takin’ couch naps and gettin’ butt rubs. No one cares about Johnny, no-“

“Shhh.” You press your lips to his, silencing him, remaining in the kiss that’s long and soft and saccharine. He sneaks his tongue back between your teeth, mischievous and wild, every bit the man you’re drawn to, an attraction you can’t fight.

“Well.” Simon clears his throat from the doorway, brows raised, mask snug. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” You don’t know why, but you fly backwards, nearly stumbling, cheeks on fire. You feel like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t, and that feeling, the pit in the bottom of your stomach, is all too reminiscent.

It frightens you.

“Whoa, hey.” Johnny tries to snag a finger around your wrist, but you step out of the way.

“It’s alright.” Simon moves inside fully, clicking the door shut behind him. “You’re not in trouble. Nothing is wrong, I was just kidding. That’s my fault.” You shake your head.

He’s not mad. Johnny is fine. Everything is fine.

You’re overreacting. You’re making a mess of this.

You shouldn’t even be doing this in the first place. What’re you doing? Who are you kidding?

“I’m s-sorry.” You stammer, hands wringing together anxiously.

“Ye dinnae have anything to be sorry about.” Johnny protests, still trying to reach for you.

Get it together. You have to get it together.

You close your eyes.

Deep breath. In and out. You can do it. Just breathe.

It works. You’re steadier, and you meet their watchful gazes as your eyes open.

“You okay?” Simon murmurs, moving very slowly to the other side of the bed where you’re standing, like he’s approaching a spooked, scared, wild animal.

“Yeah. Sorry. Just… had a moment. I’m fine.” Not entirely true, but that’s alright. You feel a little unsteady, a little unnerved, and Johnny frowns.

“Ye should sit.”

“I’m fine.”

“Bunny, please. For me?” He bats his eyelashes, and you want to groan.

But you lower yourself in the chair all the same.

Quiet falls over the room. It’s awkward and stiff, and you curse yourself for ruining the moment.

“Hey.” Simon soothes, reading your mind. “Hey, you’re alright. Everything is fine.” You nod, unsettled. He squeezes your good shoulder and dips past you, leaning to press a gentle kiss to Johnny’s brow, before dotting his nose and pushing their lips together. Their kiss is long, languid touch melting away to expose their connection, trust and love on full display. Delicate and rare, their affection makes your heart flutter, pulchritudinous whispers given to one another as Simon holds Johnny’s hand, stroking a familiar pattern into his skin, something similar to the way he touches you. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Wish they’d let me out of this bloody bed.” Johnny grumbles. You clear your throat.

“They’re waiting on your wrist. Once your wrist can support your weight on crutches, then you’ll be able to start PT and be released.”

“Ach. I know.” He’s frustrated, it’s clear. You know it’s not easy, being here, being separated, stuck in a hospital.

“It won’t be too long.” You try to reassure him, and he nods, still a little forlorn. “Here,” you stand with a burst of confidence, knocking his arm with the back of your hand as a direction, “scooch over.”

His eyes light. Simon laughs.

You fold yourself onto the edge of the bed, turned on your side, curled along where he’s the least banged up, careful of the sensitive graft lurking beneath his hospital gown.

“There. That better?” His good arm wraps around you carefully, settling on your ribs, a thumb tracing the wrinkle of your shirt.

“Aye, much better.” Your knees are bent, and cool air ghosts over your lower back, where your shirt has ridden up and exposed your skin. You shiver.

“Cold?” Simon murmurs, and you nod. He’s close, hovering, pulling a blanket up from the end of the bed to cover both you and Johnny. He tucks it around the two of you carefully and leans forward, pulling his mask down again to brush his lips across Johnny’s brow.

You watch in a daze. They don’t speak, but there’s something happening between them, something being said in their eyes as Simon holds his face briefly, and Johnny nods.

They both look to you, your bottom lip caught between teeth.

“Want one too?” Simon hums, cupping the back of your head. “Here.” He kisses you, lingering in it, heat of his naked mouth still a shock to your system.

Johnny is beaming, and cuddles you as close as possible, cheek resting atop your forehead.

They make you dizzy. All of it feels like some kind of dream, a world impossible, a fantasy suddenly turned real life. You’re on the verge of spinning out of control inside it, losing yourself.

It doesn’t help that everything you’ve done over these last few years, this identity, this life, the work that went into hiding and planning and saving and scraping, trying to stay unseen and unnoticed-

Was all for nothing.

“Bunny?” Johnny whispers, bringing you back to them. Simon is settled in the recliner, the same one from the ICU room, but his arm is stretched past your head, fingers playing idly in Johnny’s very long mohawk.

“Sorry. I’m here.”

“Where did ye go?” He tightens his hold, and you snuggle in closer, hiding away from everything bearing down on you, the pain and the panic and the doubt. You hide your face from it, refuse to acknowledge it, desperately trying to stay in this moment, hoping to just be… be here with them. In the sun.

“Nowhere.”

A day passes. Then another, and another, and another. Your face nearly looks normal, puffiness and swelling practically gone, and your neck aches less and less with each passing day.

Your shoulder, on the other hand, is a problem.

It never stops hurting. You struggle to get your arm through your shirts, can barely lift it, can't pick anything up, and it’s so sore, tender, and stiff, like it’s been dislocated or worse, broken. You’re worried, worried about going back to work without a full range of motion, worried about being in pain.

Worried about being even more permanently damaged than you already are.

Just another tally mark. Just another thing you must live with now, a permanent remnant of him, a forever reminder of just how foolish you really are.

You’re weak. You’re stupid. You’re damaged.

The pain breaks you down. It prevents you from sleeping, keeps you twisting and turning through a roil of dark dreams. It depresses you, sinks its teeth into your flesh and gnaws on the pieces touched by the sun, the parts of your heart still beating, somehow.

It reminds you of everything you’re desperate to forget.

It all comes crashing down one morning. The despair. The helpless feeling brewing in your stomach. The loneliness. It keeps you there, in bed, in agony, past breakfast.

It keeps you there, until you hear the creak of the stairs, a firm knock.

“I’m coming in.” Simon advises, trying the door, cracking it enough to stick his head through.

You’re crumpled in the middle of the mattress, pillows strewn about from trying to find a comfortable position, tears already dried. Your shoulder hurts so bad, and you don’t know why, don’t know why it’s not getting better, not healing.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” He sits at your side, hand resting on your hip, inspecting the worry lines, the frown tugging at your lips. “What’s going on?” Guilt swamps you.

“It’s nothing, my shoulder just kept me up, so I’m a little tired. That’s all.” You paste on your work smile, forced and believable, but he only shakes his head.

“Don’t do that.” He thumbs your brow. “I think you should see a doctor.”

“N-no.” You can’t. He doesn’t understand. They’ll want to take x-rays. X-rays lead to questions.

He never takes you at face value. Always pushing. Always digging, looking you over. “Why not?”

“It’s… it’s not necessary. I’m fine, it’s probably just a deep bruise.”

“You’d be experiencing less pain if that was the case.” You raise an eyebrow. He shrugs. “I know a little bit. We all have basic medic training, and I’ve been reading up, for when Johnny gets home.” He pats your hip. “Let’s make you an appointment.” You shake your head.

“No!” It’s too sharp, too insistent, and he freezes. You wince. “I’m sorry. It’s just-“

“You can’t go to a doctor.” He finishes, like he knows. “Tell me why, sweetheart.” You take a shaky breath.

You can’t. You shouldn’t.

Sunlight taps against the iron that’s encrusted around your heart. It knocks, wanting to be let in. It searches for weakness, places of opportunity, slivers of space where it can find its way.

Your mouth starts moving before you give it permission, like it knows this is where you’re headed, no matter how hard you fight, no matter how deeply the survivor’s logic is ingrained in your brain.

“It… it’s not safe.”

“It creates a trail.” He surmises, and you nod. For a wild moment, you wonder if he’s a plant. If they’re a trap, designed to get you to lower your guard, fabricated to encourage you to trust, to love, just so the jaws of Philip’s cruelty can close around you at the most opportune moment.

They wouldn’t. They’re not. You’re being ridiculous. You’re paranoid.

“We’ll make it under my name. Our primary is service member focused, and very discreet. You’ll be safe.” He makes it hard to argue, even though you want to. You should.

“I- I don’t know.”

“I can’t stand to see you in pain like this.” He rebukes, and then smiles softly, eyes lighting up. “Besides, I’m going to need your help. Johnny’s coming home on Friday.”

“He is?” You push upward. “Really?”

“Really.” He’s beaming, radiant sunshine spilling from his lips, and it makes you emotional, seeing him so happy, so weightless. “He passed a strength test on his wrist this morning. He needs a few days of PT in hospital, and then he can do it outpatient. His care team has signed off, and he’s ready.”

“Oh my god, that’s great!”

“It is. But I want both of you on the mend, not just one. Please.” It doesn’t take much more for you to concede, unable to find an excuse or a good enough reason, one he’s not able to combat.

“Alright, I guess.”

“Simon. Good to see you.” The doctor extends his hand and Simon shakes it readily, keeping his body positioned between you and the physician, one hand still on your knee.

He’s had a hand on you for the last half hour. You’ve been rattling on the exam table, shifting and fretful, disquieted energy spilling forth since he coaxed you into the car this morning.

“Dr. Fitch.”

“This is my patient?” He motions to you, and Simon stands to the side, concentrating, eyes focused above the mask. You give your name, and the provider repeats it with a warm smile.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Fitch.” You raise your good arm to shake his hand, and he pulls the rolling stool underneath him, taking a seat opposite Simon at your knee.

A warm palm flexes at your lower back. It’s soothing, comforting.

I’m here, it says. You’re safe.

“Simon says you’ve been having some shoulder pain?”

“Yeah, I had… I had an injury. Thought there was some soft tissue damage, maybe some minor bruising, but the pain is too persistent.”

“Mind if I take a look?” He points to the side you’re clearly favoring.

“Sure.” It’s not comfortable, to have another man’s hands on you outside of your job. There’s no trust there, no familiarity like there is with Simon and Johnny, and your body knows it, practically vibrating as he walks his fingers up your scapula. Simon stays close, still with a hand at your back, watching intently.

Dr Fitch holds your elbow, and slowly lifts your arm until you’re telling him to stop, pins and needles radiating through your shoulder and up your neck.

“I think we need an x-ray so we can really see what’s going on.” Your fingers curl, nails digging into your palm.

Fuck.

“I… I think I just need a sling, or an immobilizer for a few weeks. Give it some time to heal.” You try to protest, but he shakes his head.

“I can’t be sure of any of that, without an x-ray.” Oh god. You think you might throw up.

He’s right, though. You know he’s right. You know no good provider in their right mind would sign off on a treatment plan without knowing the extent of an injury. He’s not going to let you dictate what you need.

“Bun.” Simon murmurs, and you blow out a rough breath.

“Okay, fine.”

Dr. Fitch is grim when he reappears almost an hour later, throwing the films up for both you and Simon to see.

You spot what’s soured him immediately, and there’s a sharp intake of breath behind you, the tell-tale sign of Simon noticing it too.

“This side of your body has seen a lot of trauma.” The doctor says gently. He’s not unkind, but still clinical. The kind of provider you’d like you work with, you think. “These old injuries, your clavicle, acromion, even this break in your ulna, make your scapula a very delicate part of your body. I think an MRI would show a fair amount of cartilage damage in these areas.” He motions around your joint, and you close your eyes.

You can’t do this.

If Dr. Fitch sees your unease or panic, he pushes past it. “You have a rotator cuff tear. The good news is, it’s not surgical. I recommend physical therapy for injuries like these, along with activity modification and lots of rest. I want to do a corticosteroid injection for your pain as well. Today, if you’d like. You’ll need to rest your arm for twenty-four hours afterwards, make sure you’re not lifting anything or moving it…” He continues, but you lose track, lose focus, staring at the vinyl tile, weird grey and pink and green patterns all worked together to make some of the ugliest floor you’ve ever seen.

You zone out. Lose yourself. The films mock you, their ugly, horrific images hanging you out to dry, showcasing the truth, the reminders you’ll never be able to escape.

The pieces of you, changed permanently.

It’s hard to look at. Hard to think of.

You’d rather be considering survival. Counting your cash and researching new places to live. New communities to disappear inside, a new life to assume.

It’s easier to run.

You can’t look at Simon. Can't bear the shame. Can't believe he's seeing this, your nightmares on display.

You keep your eyes fixed on the wall.

The girl in the mirror is falling apart. She despises being confronted with your failings, your weakness, the results of your stupidity.

It’s far less common now, these mistakes. These slip ups.

But before… before… they indulged Philip in a beautiful game of cat and mouse. You made it fun, made it exciting. A wolf with his prey. Playing with his food before he eats. Before he strings it up and breaks its collarbone because he likes to hear it scream.

Simon is talking to the provider, asking questions, receiving answers. You can barely hear him. You’re underwater.

The only thing that tethers you to the earth is the hand on your back, the warm, gentle, broad, grounding pressure.

There’s more conversation, and then Dr. Fitch is vacating the room.

Is it time to go?

You try to stand on autopilot, but Simon holds you steady.

“We’re going to do the steroid, for your pain.” He drifts into your line of sight, pulling the mask down. “Bunny, look at me.”

When you can’t, he follows your gaze.

The films come off the wall within the next second, ripped down by the long reach of his arm.

Gone.

“I have to go.” You whisper.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to get this injection, and then I’m going to take you home and put you to bed.”

He doesn’t understand your meaning.

Or maybe he does.

Home. The word rings in your ears like a punch. It’s like you’ve been hit with it, burned with it.

Home.

He’s not forceful, but you still feel the pressure, the insistence. You expect to rail against him. To cower.

Instead, you slip inside it. Allow him to tell you what to do, to make the decision. You fall easily into him, and he holds your hand through it all, while the injection site is swabbed, when the needle goes in. He holds your hand out to the car, holds your hand as he buckles you in. He holds your hand as he tucks you into a bed larger and softer than the one you've been sleeping in. It smells like him and Johnny, soft sheets and pillows piled around you like a wall, false sense of security building every time you twitch, testing where is he is, if he’s left yet.

The last thing you feel before you drift off to sleep is your hand, still in his.

You don't know how long you sleep. You sail in the darkness, navigating turbulent seas, waking every now and then, sometimes alone... sometimes not.

The baby monitor blinks pale green, little circle fuzzy on the edge of your vision, appearing and disappearing throughout the day.

Sometimes the bed is warm. Sometimes it's not.

When it is, you seek him out on instinct, trying to crawl inside his ribs, frantic with your effort to hide, to run. He holds you through it, rocks you gently, tells you you're safe, says you don't have to be afraid anymore, he's here now. He'll take care of you.

There's a rope around your ankle, tied too tight, tethered to the ocean floor. It drags you down, rips you away from him, fills your lungs and silences you.

You didn't make it.

All you can see behind closed lids is those films. All you can feel is the phantom ache in your limbs, the remnants of a shadow, still living and breathing inside of you.

The girl in the mirror is silent. Nothing to say for once in her life, she weeps like her chest is being carved open, sobs and screams pouring out in a flood.

I know you'll be here when I get back, won't you?

The house is vibrant today.

Lou has been here, stocking the fridge, precooking some meals, and her husband is helping Simon rearrange the living room, moving pieces of the couch to be more accessible, laughing back and forth quietly. Occasionally, he stops into the kitchen where you’re seated next to Pen in her highchair, checking in, but never encroaching.

He doesn’t get too close, right now. You’re still underwater somewhere, lost in a current. You’re here, but not really, silently drifting like a ghost, watching and waiting for something or someone to shake you out of it.

Simon hasn’t yet, but he’s watching. Always.

He’s intentionally careful, loud. Announcing himself everywhere he goes in the house, telling you everything he’s doing.

You didn’t understand why at first. Didn’t realize you hadn’t spoken in eight hours, and then ten, then twelve.

Trapped in a tomb of yourself, locked away with the girl in the mirror.

Guilt burns like a wildfire.

This should be a happy time. A wonderful time.

But all you’re doing is making a mess of their life.

Lou, thankfully, doesn’t push you either. She’s content to let you sit there, next to Pen. She keeps an eye out, glancing over at you occasionally, but your placating smiles seem to satisfy her.

Simon steps in front of the counter, ducking his head down to catch your eyes. “I’m going to pick Johnny up.” Somewhere, in the pits of hell, excitement blooms. Happiness tries to sprout. “Do you want to come?” Definitely not. They’ll certainly clap him out, and there’s no way you can be there for that.

“No, I’m… okay.”

“Okay. Penny is coming with me, but John and Lou are staying here. Kyle is coming by. If Johnny’s feeling up to it, I’m hoping to do dinner all together.” Acid is tossed around, tempestuous in your stomach. Lou smiles around his side.

“Want to watch something while we wait?”

“Sure.” She disappears down the hall, saying something to John, and Simon slowly pulls Pen from her chair, kissing her cheek and nose before cradling her to his chest. She’s not a small baby, but in his hold, she’s tiny, soft and delicate, content in her dad’s arms, still a little sleepy from her afternoon nap.

“We’ll be back soon.” He whispers, turning to go.

Your hand whips forward instinctively, out of control.

It latches onto his.

“Simon. I’m… I’m sorry.” You’re sorry you’re ruining everything. You’re sorry you’re fucked up beyond belief, you’re sorry he had to see all that in the doctor’s office, you’re sorry, you’re sorry, you’re sorry.

He squeezes. “Shhh, hey. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He shifts, still holding Penny, but stooping down to crouch at your knees, his own popping with effort. “It’s okay, if you have to go somewhere else for a little while up there, as long as you're not lost in it.” He motions to your head. “Nothing has changed. We’re still right here, everything is alright. Huh, Penny girl?” He bounces her, and she shrieks out a giggle, reaching for his face. He kisses her hands like he’s trying to eat them, rumble in his voice making her squeal, and he catches your faint smile. “There she is.” He kisses your forehead. “We’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

You hear Johnny before you see him.

There’s a scrape of crutches, his voice animated, talking to his baby, Penny giggling wildly outside on the walk. Lou and John exchange a comfortable smile, and she manages to get the door open before Simon can get his key in the lock.

“Welcome home!” She exclaims, and Penny squeaks, clapping excitedly. She’s wriggly, wanting to get down immediately upon crossing the threshold, but Simon holds her firm, turned around so Lou can snap their picture.

“Ach, Price, can ye do somethin’-“ Johnny laments, but the captain only laughs and looks on.

“Hey! Come on, you’ll want this, later. I promise. Look over here.” They’re picture perfect, Penny cradled between them, Johnny’s hair moved out of his face, his posture a little slouched because of his hip and leg. His head rests on Simon’s shoulder, an arm stretched across his middle, right under Penny, who glows from her perch, the center of attention.

An ache unfurls in the middle of your chest, a sore spot, growing, spreading through your body.

They’re so lovely, it hurts. This moment is beautiful, a homecoming, a story of survival and perseverance. Johnny’s strength and determination. Doing something you know a lot of people initially doubted.

The dark spot of pain passes, fleeting.

Johnny’s eyes find yours. “Ye goin’ make me hobble all the way over there?” He teases, and you shake your head.

The two of you can only give half hugs, but you make it work, holding onto him, fingers fisted in the back of his shirt.

“Welcome home.” You whisper in his ear, and he pulls away, notching his forehead against yours. His eyes glitter, heavy, trembling breath filtering through his nose, and he kisses you slowly, so painfully slowly it’s like you’re the only one in the entire house, in the whole world.

“You too, bunny.”

Dinner is lively. Kyle arrives shortly before it’s time to sit down, greetings and warm wishes passed around as everyone gets settled, Penny positioned in highchair between the guys with mashed potatoes and peas already scooped onto her tray. Johnny’s on your left, with Lou on your right, and Simon sits at the head of the table, across from who you realize now, is his old, or kind of still, boss.

He looks perfect there, half turned towards Pen and Johnny, radiantly smiling at his partner and daughter, trying again and again to catch your eye. Johnny's knee stays steady against yours, fingertips occasionally brushing your thigh, and the two of them try to draw you in, pull you towards them, over and over.

Conversation flows easily. They’re all talking, laughing, swapping stories, poking at one another. Kyle tells you about a time he fell out of a helicopter, and they all tease Johnny about nearly dying this time, or a different time, you can’t be too sure.

“Ye jus’ wish ye had the natural ability I do.” He sniffs, and Kyle chortles, struggling to swallow his food.

“I’d probably be dead, mate.”

“’Cause ye cannae handle it!” He retorts, and Simon laughs, causing Penny to giggle too, and then the entire table erupts in it, attention redirected, cooing at the adorable girl with mashed potatoes smeared on her face. Johnny and Simon fuss over her, a perfect family in unison.

There’s a whining, buzzing noise in the back of your head. It’s an off-key tenor, annoying and coarse, like the snag of rough skin texture against a soft sweater.

What are you doing here?

The world, this room, these people, spin and spiral around you. Talking, laughing, loving. Making connections with each other, feeling the warmth of love and friendship, of happiness.

The buzzing gets louder.

You’re vaguely in it now, still seated but not here, not anywhere. You’re drifting, falling away, slipping behind walls and layers, hiding.

The girl in the mirror approves.

What makes you think you have any right to be here? What makes you think you could ever possibly belong here? With them? With their friends? Their family?

You’re an intruder.

You’re risking their safety. You’re making a mistake.

Lou boasts a sharp laugh, and you nearly flinch.

You don’t belong here. You’re supposed to be alone. It was supposed to be okay, to be alone.

You’re selfish.

Simon reaches for Johnny’s hand, stretching across Penny’s spot, eyes heavy with love. There’s so much in his expression alone, dedication, devotion, borderline obsession bleeding through, and he holds Johnny like he’s holding his lifeline.

You’ll never be loved like that, known like that, cherished and protected… like that.

And why should you be?

You’re standing before you announce it, trying to hold yourself together. Both guys look to you, Simon’s expression changing from amusement and love to worry and concern, while Johnny mirrors it, and tries to grab your hand.

“Ye alright?”

“Bun?”

“I’m fine, just… uh. My stomach.” You lie, motioning away from the table, like it makes any sense. You excuse yourself quickly, apologizing, and practically run up the stairs.

The guest bathroom door locks, and you slide down against the tub, slumping over to rest your cheek on cold tile. “Fuck.” You whisper, rubbing at your cheeks. What is wrong with you?

You lay there long enough that your shoulder starts to hurt. Everything aches, your heart too, and wipe your cheeks over and over, trying to regain control of a sinking ship.

God, you really, really hope they aren’t mad you bailed.

The bed is your only option, your only salvation, and you sink into without fuss, burying yourself beneath a pile of blankets, hiding yourself away from the world.

At least when you sleep, you can’t think.

At least when you sleep, you can’t feel.

“Philip, please.”

“You made a fucking fool of me tonight.” He grips your upper arm so tight it feels like he’s cutting into your flesh, branding you, burning you down to the bone.

“No, I- I wasn’t trying to, I swear.”

“I think you were, spitfire. I think you wanted to see me sweat, didn’t you? Wanted to play a little game, huh?”

“No!” you’re crying, chest heaving with giant sobs, and his fist tightens in your hair, dragging you down to the ground. “No, Philip, stop. Stop!”

“Shut up.” You’re crawling on your knees, trying to keep pace, trying to stay in stride with him as he tugs, practically pulling you down the hallway to the bedroom.

Once he gets there, he jerks you upwards.

The hardwood floor is the next thing you see as your face crashes into it.

“S-stop.” You’re barely audible, buried in sobs. He mocks you.

“Stoooop, babe. Stop please.” Your arms cover your head, trying to protect your delicate bones there, your skull, your nose, your cheeks.

His foot rears back.

The world goes cold.

“NO!” you jerk your knees up to your chest, rolling away. “No! I’m pregnant!”

You think he’ll be happy. You think he’ll be pleased.

Instead, it’s raw, concentrated fury you see lining his face, lightning and thunder gathering in his eyes.

“You’re what?”

You come to trembling, coated in a cold sweat.

It’s okay. He’s not here. He’s not. You’re safe.

You clasp a hand over your mouth to ward off the volume of the sob, nausea rising until you’re almost gagging.

It’s okay.

You can do this. Get it together.

Time ticks away, but the agony of your memory, your nightmare, doesn’t fade. It settles in your bones like a sickness, infecting your mind and heart, keeping you from closing your eyes.

You can’t go back there. Not in real life. Not in your dreams. Not ever.

You would die before that happened.

Johnny and Simon sleep down the hall. You wonder if they’re wrapped up together, if Johnny is comfortable, if their room is cozy and homey, bed heavenly and full of love.

You could…

No.

The clock on your phone reads three in the morning. You feel like you haven’t slept at all, but every time you try to close your eyes, dread spreads, tenebrous and sticky, clinging to every synapse in your logical brain.

You eye the door.

You could…

Should you? Would they be mad? Would they welcome you? Would they even answer?

You don’t know how you convince yourself to do it, to drag your weak will down the hall and knock on their door, but you do. You’re a child the whole way, padding up to a parent’s room in the middle of the night, looking for salvation and sanctuary, desperate for comfort.

It takes almost no time after your timid little rap for the door to swing wide, Simon standing behind it, little lamp flicked on where Johnny is half sitting up, mostly still asleep, rubbing his eyes.

“Hi.” You whisper, distracted by Simon’s naked chest. He’s wearing sweatpants, but they’re slung low on his hips, soft tummy with wispy light brown hair peeking out above the drawstring. You think you’re staring, and you force a blink, trying to appear normal.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing, I just… I had a nightmare and…I… I can’t…” the rest doesn’t come out, laying heavy on your tongue, trying to organize itself so it doesn’t seem so intrusive, or weak.

He doesn’t make you feel bad. Or guilty. He doesn’t even ask, he just steps aside, motioning to bed, clicking the door shut behind him.

“Take the middle.” He whispers, and you crawl across the expanse, timidly smiling at Johnny, who’s still yawning. He’s got his bad leg and hip set up on a bunch of pillows, and the spot next to him is still warm.

“Hey pretty girl.”

“Hi.” He pats the empty space, shoving the blankets down to the best of his ability to let you get underneath them.

“Bad dream?” He drawls, slow and sleepy.

“Yeah.”

“C’mere.” He tries to tug you closer, but Simon scolds him softly.

“Johnny, easy. Your graft.” He turns, sliding, encouraging you to settle on your side, with him at your back. “There we go. That’s better, hm?” It is better. So much better. Warm and safe. Blocked in on either side by them, your hand resting on Johnny’s sternum, grounding yourself with the rise and fall of his breathing, Simon nestling you into his chest, heavy arm slung across your ribs to hold Johnny’s hand.

It's so nice, tucked between them like you belong there, things start to spiral a little bit, doubt and worry fueling a cycle of second guessing. You shift restlessly, and Simon rubs your hip, soothing whatever he senses amiss back to neutral, lips humming just above your ear. “Close your eyes, little bunny. We’re here. You’re safe.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x soap x reader #simon riley #john mactavish #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost x reader

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tender-rosiey · 6 months

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horns — neuvillette x f!reader

a/n: i gotta work on wriothesley's

“papa!” your little girl coos, reaching out for her dad’s horns. her little hands hold them delicately as she kicks her legs and giggles.

she is so occupied by her dad that she notice you putting down a tray of her favorite cookies. you smile at her before leaning towards your husband.

“looks like someone else likes your horns as much as I do,” you tease neuvillette who’s busy smiling fondly at his little girl, before he looks up at you.

your arms are wrapped around his shoulders from behind. the hold you have on him is so comforting, so light and he can't help how his eyes soften and body further relaxes.

tenderness swim in his eyes, and he looks down at her again, “she looks just like you,” he sighs in contentment, “I couldn’t be happier.”

your heart clenches and you cup his face to press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

from the corner of your eyes, you notice your daughter repeatedly patting her head. a look of worry instantly appears on your husband’s face, “d/n, are you alright? what’s the matter?”

your daughter frowns lightly when she taps the top of her head with her two hands once more. she grabs a bit of her hair, but, apparently, she doesn’t find what she is looking for.

her lips jut out as she points at your husband’s horns, “pa?”

he hums in confusion then looks at you, hoping that with motherly super powers, you can understand her.

a few beats pass by before it clicks in your head, and you start smothering her face in kisses, “oh you absolute cutie!” she squeals as she drowns in your affection, “don’t worry! you will get horns and look just like your pretty papa in no time!”

neuvillette is a little puzzled, looking back and forth at your daughter then you. you smile before tapping his horns then tapping her head. he reaches out to hold her, and your girl practically throws herself at him.

he rests his cheek on the top of her head then he closes his eyes and presses a kiss to the top of her head, making her giggle. you sneak away to get a headband that’s been bought for this very moment.

you come back, said headband hidden behind your back, and you usher both your husband and your little girl in front of the mirror. neuvillette quietly sits with your little girl comfortably on his lap.

she stares at the mirror, until your husband starts to lightly bounce her on his legs. she squeals, putting her hands in her mouth then looking up at him, “pa!”

“okay, d/n, look at the mirror for a moment,” you say as you situate the headband on her head, “and voila!,” you kneel beside her, “see? you look just like papa!”

you don’t know who is more in awe, your daughter or your husband. the little girl is basically speechless, and your husband’s eyes have an endless stream of stars swimming in them.

“she does look like me,” he mutters, hold tightening just a tiny bit.

he lets out a breath, before bending slightly to gently rest his forehead on top of your daughter’s little head. he smiles softly, “I am…happy.”

he turns to you, eyes full fondness and love, “thank you.”

you think the bright clear weather that day was no coincidence.

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #neuvillete x reader #neuvillette headcanons #genshin imagines #gi x reader #gi neuvillette #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin fluff #neuvillette fanfic #neuvillette imagines

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libraincarnate · 9 months

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🦋 astrology notes: 14 🦋

quick note: i'm absolutely not an astrologer. these are just a collection of some of my observations, thoughts, theories, and personal experiences. above all this is just for fun. lastly, these may or may not apply to you but they may apply to someone you know. enjoy!

ꕤ venus-mars aspects: people with this aspect may feel good/beautiful when moving their body. they could really enjoy sex, stretching, exercising, playing sports, dancing, etc. could be into getting massages, doing their skin/hair care routine, eating healthy & more cause overall, they’re taking care of their body/themselves and they’re into that. there’s a desire to connect with their body and actually listen to what it wants and/or needs. they want to feel good and look good & they probably have a nice body too.

ꕤ neptune-uranus aspects: can indicate a wild sleeper. the type to shift the blankets from one end of the bed to the other, waking up with their pillow in weird positions or they themselves are hanging off the side of the bed. could accidentally hit people while they’re asleep if they share a bed with someone. may have strange dreams, possibly spiritual/prophetic ones too.

ꕤ libra venus: they want an equal relationship with equal effort. if they have kids with someone, they expect that person to be as involved as they are when it comes to parenting. it's a partnership so no one should be doing more than the other, it should be *balanced*. they absolutely know how to make a person feel loved, adored, and appreciated. they can be quite lovey-dovey & they also want to be doted on too. they want someone who makes them feel comfortable enough to not have to look or act perfect all the time. they want their partner to see their beauty on the outside & the inside too. even if it's not fun to admit, they know they’re not truly perfect and they want someone who will accept the parts of them that aren’t beautiful, the parts they're insecure of. yes they love compliments but genuine ones from their lover that aren’t always about their appearance are meaningful and cherished.

these people are so caring. this is a sweetheart placement. with that being said they expect their partner to be nice to them 98% of the time. this doesn’t mean you can’t tease them or make jokes, but just don’t overdo it or be rude. so this doesn’t necessarily mean that they want an extremely nice or gentle bf/gf, but rather someone who’s never truly mean to them and shows them the same amount of love & consideration.

ꕤ virgo sun/rising/venus & lilith in the 2nd house: may feel ugly or uncomfortable wearing heavy makeup. they’re so used to being natural that they feel as if they look too different wearing lots of makeup or even a little. could feel as though it emphasizes their features in a way that they don’t like because it comes off too strong. they’re just used to & prefer that natural look, but they may prefer light/subtle makeup, like that “no makeup” makeup look.

ꕤ if you feel like you don’t relate to certain placements in your natal chart, check the persona chart of that planet and look for that same planet within that persona chart. you may find that you can relate to it a bit more or it can reveal something else about that part of you/your life, maybe help you connect the dots.

for example, if you feel like your venus placement in your natal chart doesn’t really apply to you, check your venus placement in your venus persona chart. or if it’s your moon then look for the placement of the moon in your moon persona chart.

ꕤ the placement of sagittarius in your chart can show you where you might be afraid to commit:

in the 4th house - could be afraid to start a family of your own because of how much your children/family would depend on you and because of how much you’d be responsible for another person.

in the 7th house - could be afraid to commit to long term relationships that may lead to marriage because you view it as something spiritually and/or legally binding (to an extent), and the idea of that sounds restrictive or "too permanent" & daunting, even if you're in love, so you may self-sabotage. your lack of commitment here might also be because you don't feel comfortable trusting others/being vulnerable. plus, sag is an honest sign that cares about integrity so if they make a vow they won't want to dishonor it. but then there's the possibilty/fear of being trapped in a miserable or lifeless marriage, or being unable to leave without conflict or upsetting consequences.

in the 6th house - could run from your daily responsibilities/routine if it lacks variety. can be afraid to commit to jobs that may have the potential to become mundane & monotonous, jobs that don't have many opportunities or room for growth and advancement.

ꕤ saturn in the 9th house: may not enjoy going to church, if you we’re born into a religious family this could have been an issue for you, perhaps you have a religious father that is strict and religion may have been a persistent theme that brought about conflict.

ꕤ aries moon: when they’re pissed off you’ll know because they’ll express it verbally and/or physically (this doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll put their hands on you). out of all the different emotions, they probably feel anger the strongest. they’re not the type to hide their emotions like capricorn moons and that’s probably because they usually can’t no matter how much they want to or try to.

they are direct & unafraid of confrontation, but if they tell you that you hurt them then they care about you because that’s not something they’ll easily and openly admit. they’re loyal so they take it to heart when someone they love/trust wrongs them. if that person doesn’t have a good reason then they’re most likely cut off because aries now sees them as disloyal & untrustworthy.

aries likes to be in control, but with the moon here they can struggle to have control over their emotions because they feel things so forecully, not being in control only makes them more irritated, and they can be quite irritable.

ꕤ sun in the 7th house (synastry): it can create such a strong bond that it feels like they are your soulmate. it could be hard to separate from each other because it feels like you guys are meant to be. they’re someone you want to share your life with. life is better with them. things can feel gloomy when there are problems between you two or when they’re not around & so this can also be a clingy placement. but that’s probably because they make you feel warm, safe, and overall they’re just one of your favorite people.

ꕤ leo mercury / leo in the 3rd house: they’re quite descriptive & they incorporate lots of figurative language in their everyday speech whether it be personification, exaggeration, or similes/metaphors. with that being said they can be funny and make good story tellers. they draw people in with the way they speak and keep them interested. could be good at voice acting and imitating the voice of another such as singers or actors. these individuals have some bright ideas & they could probably write great books too.

ꕤ lilith in the 6th house: i’ve mentioned that taurus in the 6th house can have messy traits but lilith in the 6th house takes the cake imo. like they can be straight up dirty, sorry not sorry. the types to not clean up after themselves. they’re not afraid to get their hands dirty and i mean that literally. like no gloves needed ever lol & then they’ll “clean” their hands by running it under water for 2 seconds. also the types to not follow the rules or the steps of doing something. they do things their way or in a way that’s uncommon/different but they can also remain calm and focused in chaotic & unorganized environments.

ꕤ sun in the 4th: these people would make really good house wives or stay at home moms. they’re just good at being domestic and naturally good at running a household. they’re the glue to the family. i know the 4th house isn’t related to marriage/romantic relationships but to me, women with this placement exude the traits of the perfect/noble wife described in Proverbs 31:10-31.

or if a guy has a capricorn sun here for example, he may be an absolute family man. someone reliable and a true provider who is dedicated, involved, and loyal to his family.

overall these people can be very family-oriented.

ꕤ chiron in the 5th house: you have a bold/bright personality that makes you stand out. when you’re expressing yourself or simply being yourself, you might get negative reactions and unkind comments from others which causes you to shrink back and hide that awesome personality of yours. you feel insecure about being yourself & so you may also have self-esteem issues. but that confidence is definitely within you, it's innate.

those reactions/comments probably come from people who are unhappy, not comfortable with themselves, or they're jealous & they wish could get the attention that you receive without trying. but that’s not your fault so keep being you baby!

these natives could also be the type to come off as quiet/shy but they aren’t. they’re actually fun, creative, talented, and a joy to be around, but they struggle to see that for themselves.

ꕤ gemini or pisces rising / in the 1st house - especially if you also have a gemini/pisces moon or your chart ruler (mercury/neptune) is in the 5th house of fun, games/toys, & creativity:

* this is so long i'm so sorry *

i feel like these natives had lots of dolls, toys, and/or stuffed animals growing up. they probably always had at least one throughout their life and they still do even if they’re now older, mature, or no longer play with them because gem and pisces both have this playful, fun, & childlike energy.

the rising & 1st house is heavily focused on how you project/express yourself and who you are, both your inner & outer self. so regardless of age or maturity, these traits typically remain present in gem/pisces because it’s just a big part of their identity. & the moon is how we experience, process, and express our emotions. so for some, it becomes less of a toy and more of a sentimental item, something they’re emotionally attached to.

with gemini & pisces, it’s like they are here but they’re not lol they’re physically present but mentally elsewhere in some other world of their own. they’re the types to entertain themselves in their minds.

gem is ruled by mercury so they’re always in their head talking to themselves, thinking of anything & everything whether it be funny, brilliant, bizarre, or ingenious. they get lost in their thoughts. but we do the same with toys, we talk to them as if they were real or could respond, we create these conversations and social interactions, we give them a voice, “making” them say the most silly, funny, and crazy things.

pisces is ruled by neptune and so they’re creative and always in their head day dreaming of different scenarios, people/characters, and possibilities. they get lost in their imagination. and with toys, we become both actors & directors, assigning different roles/characters to different dolls and stuffed animals, but also to ourselves. we set the scene, dress them up, do their makeup, and “make” them act out whatever we imagine.

& when you think about dolls/toys/stuffed animals and the way that they’re typically played with, you think of personification or a sense of bringing to life/animation, imagination, children, entertainment, pretending, creativity, etc. plus, the whole concept is kind of bizarre if you think about it lol

this made me look up barbie’s chart because she’s one of the most popular dolls/toys and it’s so funny how she’s a gemini rising & pisces sun/moon.

if you read this until the end, i hope you enjoyed it & thank you so much for reading. ♥︎♥︎♥︎, those hearts are for you.

#astrology #astro notes #astrology notes #astro observations #astrology observations #libraincarnate

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thesirencult · 4 months

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PAC READING: CHRISTMAS WISHES FROM YOUR FS

PILE 1

Your FS is going through a "10 Of Swords" moment. They have been blinded from the truth. Her light is stronger than any illusion's. You are part of this truth. You and this person share a very special soul bond. Your lives' are parallel to eachother, a thin thread connecting the dots until the moment you meet.

"Keep your map close to your chest darling.

Not many people will understand the journey you are embarking on. I do. I want you to know that I wish that all wishes come true the next year. I'm kinda hopping one of them involves me ; )

I wish you get to heal. I wish the sun is warming up your skin and your eyes are shining with hope. I wish I was there to hold your hand. We could embrace eachother under the sun.

You are my sun.

My Sun. Take the chance and that leap of faith. It will bring you closer to happiness and to me. There are times the most illogical choice and the most risky one leads us to success. The paradox of risk.

I wish you keep the flame in your heart alight and your optimism helps you rise above every single. I wish you find love and guidance within your soul.

Goodbye, for now, my Sun and Merry Christmas <3"

PILE 2

Your person is not happy. They are far away from you but energetically they can feel that you are struggling. Your person is very spiritual and they want you to hold on for a tiny bit longer. They might be older than you. When you meet they will take on the role of a mentor. They see you, the real you and they want to help this diamond form under pressure.

Your FS is very calm, cool and collected. They know what they want. Your message is more heav,y but I know, deep in my heart, that you are telepathetically connected and they constantly send you messages, especially through songs and quotes you stumble upon.

"I wish you could see yourself from my POV. The amazing, beautiful, strong soul that you are. I wish you could look at life through a different prism. I want you to take the reigns and show everyone who you are. I wish you find the strength to own your beauty.

Your energy is mesmerizing. Like a cold night under the full moon and a wolf howling in the background. Hecate.

Choose sovereignty. Choose yourself baby. You're not unlucky. Your time just hasn't come yet.

I want you to push one last time baby. Do it for me. I'm sorry I'm not there to wish you "Happy Christmas".

I wish you manifest your dreams,I wish you dare to invest in your future, in our future without thinking you don't deserve it.

You have more options than you think. Don't make any bad choice you will regret later.

I love you baby. I want you to be healthy and strong."

PILE 3

Your FS is very "hungry" for you. They want you to let them take control. They are more possessive and obsessive than you would expect. They show their emotions through touch and on the bed.

They are daring and won't mind to show that you are theirs to everyone. Your FS knows taht you have big goals and they want you to know that in the future you will achieve all your dreams.

They are pretty succesfull themselves and they want you to get that bag and level up. They love material things and they invest in their future. You would meet in an environment supporting your level up (gym, career day, course, seminar etc.).

"My lovey dovey Sweetheart,

I wish you indulge this season. I wish you let your hair down for a while. When you are mine I will help you calm down. I will take the burdens off of your shoulders and tie your hands. Merry Christmas my lovely baby. I wish this time next year we are together, driving around in our luxury vehicles.

Let me dominate you. Let me take control. I will wrap satin sheets around you and carry you to the bathroom. A bathtub full of rose petals. Champagne for you my love. Sit on my face.

I wish you achieve all your goals. I wish you get your dream car, you bossy little lady. I will hold your hand through everything. I'll be by your side on long nights and I will proudly parade you around and show you off to everyone. I want them to know that the most accomplished person is mine.

You are mine. Mine. Mine.

Always yours, your FS."

#astrology #tarot reading #level up journey #pac reading #tarot #pick a photo #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #soulmate #intuitive readings #psychic #channeled message #future spouse #twinflame

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cozage · 1 year

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Responding to “I’m late"

Characters: f reader (gn terms!) x Luffy, Sanji, Shanks, Law

Cw: some pretty major angsty emotions in this. Spoilers for Dressrosa in Law's and WCI in Sanji's. Period talk

Total word count: 1k

He walks into your alls room and finds you sitting on the bed. You’re staring at the calendar on the far wall, still as a statue.

“I’m late,” you whisper to him.

Luffy

“Late for what?” Luffy isn’t clueless, but vague statements like that go over his head.

“My period, Luffy!” Your head falls into your hands, but he’s still struggling to fully connect the dots.

He tilts his head at you. He can tell you’re in distress and that worries him. “Is that normal?”

“Obviously not,” you growl. “Or else I wouldn’t be telling you that I might be pregnant!”

His eyes widen at that statement, and finally he rushes over to where you’re sitting on the bed. He curses himself for being so oblivious.

“How late are you?” He asks. There’s a slight urgency in his voice, but he’s trying to keep the panic down.

“A week and a half!” At that response, Luffy realizes he knows nothing about these kinds of things. “Should we go talk to Chopper?” He offers. He hates being so clueless and he knows he’s not helping much.

The way you’re looking at him makes him think that was also the wrong response. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m doing this all wrong.” He sits down next to you and puts his arm around your shoulder, leaning you in to him. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know!” You cried, and he rubs your arm soothingly.

“It’s okay,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “We have time to figure it out. And we will.”

Sanji

He should be over the moon. He should be ecstatic. He should be absolutely thrilled. But all he feels is dread.

He tries to hide it. He really does. But you can see it. Because that’s the first emotion you felt too.

“Sanji?” You call, trying to snap him out of the daze he’s in. But he’s frozen, just like you were.

All he can think of is how his mutated genes are now forming a new human. What if it turns out like his brothers? What if it has 20 fingers and 20 toes? What if you get sick like his mother?

“Sanji?” You call again, and this time he snaps out of his spiraling.

“What do you want to do?” He asks, and you can hear his voice tremble. He pulls out a cigarette and snaps open his lighter. Smoking is always an easy sign that he’s stressed.

“I don’t know,” you admit. He nods, and comes to sit on the bed with you.

His eyes look to your stomach, still trying to process it all. “We should go talk to Chopper. He’ll tell us if it’s something we need to worry about not. Maybe it’s just a weird month for you.”

You nod, and he takes your hand and leads you to the infirmary. He has to know, he has to prepare for the possibility. He can’t help but say a silent prayer to the universe on your way there for some kind of miracle.

Shanks

“I know,” he sighs. “You know?” You stare at him, shocked.

“Of course I know! I know your schedule!” He smiles, and his arm reaches down to take your hand. He pulls you to your feet, and then holds you close to him.

You rest your head against his chest and take an unsteady breath. “How do you feel?” He asks.

“Scared,” you say, and you can feel tears prick at your eyes. He hums at your statement, and you to stand there for a moment in silence.

He starts swaying you back at forth, as if the two of you are dancing without music.

He pulls you back and spins you around, and you laugh at his moves. He smiles when he hears your melody of joy, and you can see him relax a little bit.

He pulls you back into him, still swaying. “We’ll be at a new island in two days. How about we go to a doctor there and see if we can get some answers. We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

You nod into his chest. You’re still terrified, but at least you have him by your side.

Law

He stands there, eyes moving between you and your stomach. “Late?” He questions. But he already knows.

You ask for Midol and a heating pad at the same time every month. He gives you back massages at the same time every month. But not this month.

You just nod, still staring at the calendar. He turns on his heels and runs out the door, leaving you alone.

He walks briskly through the hallways, trying to keep his nerves down. But his mind is racing. What if his child develops Amber Lead Disease? What if he passed it on to the baby somehow. It might be out of his system, but that doesn’t mean the lasting effects are gone from the disease.

He’s also scared for you. He knows how taxing pregnancy is, and being in a submarine isn’t something you should do if you were pregnant. The pressure of the sea floor, the dangers of being a pirate, there were so many risks that came with it all.

He grabs his sword and creates a room, and quickly shambles back to you. He finds you curled up in the bed crying, and realizes his mistake.

“Im sorry, y/n-ya,” he whispers, brushing your hair to the side. “I didn’t mean to leave you without saying anything.”

You dry your eyes and look up at him, still sniffling. “I’m scared, Law.”

“Let’s find out how scared we need to be, okay?” He guides your limbs to position you to lay flat on your back, and he holds the sword over you. “Scan.”

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pupkashi · 5 months

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satoru spends his birthday in a way he’d only dreamt of

a/n: this is just a tiny drabble for my hispanics out there ‼️ happy birthday to my angel boy 🩵 (will hopefully make something else tmrw perchance …. do not quote me on this)

masterlist

trans: mordida: [take a] bite; mi hermoso amor: my beautiful love

satoru probably gets so excited when you start chanting “mordida! mordida!” after singing happy birthday, beyond excited when he goes in for a little bite.

he doesn’t expect megumi and yuta to grab the back of his head and smashing it in the cake, for the first time in so long he was caught off guard.

when he finally unsticks his face from the cake he can only smile, blue eyes sparkling as he takes in the sight in front of him. yuta and megumi are high fiving behind him, laughing uncontrollably.

nobara and yuji are toppling over in laughter, panda has his paws over his mouth and toge is giggling. he can see maki rolling her eyes, the ends of his lips twitching into a smile. shoko is wiping tears away from her eyes, letting out a content sigh.

finally his eyes land on you, a loving smile on your lips as you hand him some paper towels. “you got a little something there,” you giggle, moving his frosting covered bangs from his forehead and wiping his nose, pressing a soft kiss before handing him more towels.

“okay now who wants a slice of cake!” you smile, bringing out the backup cake you’d bought.

the rest of night went by quickly, soon enough all the kids filed out of your home and back to the dorms, shoko ushering them out, hugging the two of you goodbye before following them out.

satoru smiles when you push him into the restroom, turning the hot water on and urging him to get in. he’s over the moon when he realizes what you’re planning on doing.

his eyes flutter closed when your fingers run through his hair, nails scratching his scalp in the most perfect way. the smell of your shampoo fills his nose, humming as you continue scrubbing. by the time you’re done satoru is beyond relaxed, ready to get into bed and cuddle.

you shower after hims quickly, forcing him out of the restroom when he tries to return the favor to you, insisting you’ll let him another time.

satoru smiled when the bed dips under your weight, immediately taking you into his arms. he’s giggling and blushing when you pepper his face with kisses.

“i love you, mi hermoso amor,” you whisper, watching as his dimples deepen, a wide smile on his face. you can’t help but smile, your fingers running through his still damp hair as you press a kiss to his forehead.

“i love you more sweetheart,” he mumbles, catching your lips in his. “thank you, for everything.” the weight of the words are heavy in the air, and they land softly in your ears. your face burns as you smile at him.

“you deserve it all, lover boy” you reply, cuddling into his side, your arms snaking around his waist and squeezing him a bit.

satoru doesn’t say anything, he only kisses the top of your head, he knows this wasn’t an argument he’d win. he holds you tightly, staring at you for a couple seconds before his eyes flutter shut.

there’s a small smile on his face as he sleeps. he spent his birthday at home.

satoru spent his birthday at home, with the love of his life and his family; and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

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partywithoutsmiling · 13 days

Text

Another AU that has been knocking around my mind for a while XD I call it Moonlit AU

It can be summed as such: Pop Trolls are pretty wild bunch when it comes to looks, varying in colours, flocking/fur patterns, glitter, freckles, hair, you name it

It got me thinking, what sort of thing would they find attractive in prospective partner? While singing/harmonizing could be a part of it (and ngl, that did made me think of the Happy Feet movies, as silly as those were), my mind turned towards more physical attributes

Thus, this AU was born- where one of the reasons why Pop trolls like to be most active at night (to party) is that a Moon's Light also allows them to appreciate fur/flocking patterns otherwise hidden, where the complexity and style varies from troll to troll, as is thought to show one's inner self

Contrary to what one would expect from the Princess (and future Queen) of Pop, Poppy's patterns are rather simple- but striking nonetheless, firm and bold stripes, like taking a wide brush to a canvas- straightforward but chaotic in their hardly orderly fashion Poppy struts her patterns; they are unique and dominant among the general showing of swirls, polka dots and flower like spottings She is aware her stripes are not considered the most attractive of features- too similar to that of a predatory critter, too sharp for who is supposed to be cheerful queen of equally cheerful people- but she is a romantic at heart and believes that when it will be time to choose a consort, those physical features are surface-level importance at best, and this is the mentality she has going forward, looking at the glowing marks of her friends and considering them equally beautiful no matter what.

Until she manages to spot Branch one night outside under the full moon light that is.

Branch's pattern, in high contrast to Poppy, is far more complex. Symetrical but delicate in its filigree, and far more detailed than anything the Princess has ever seen before. Usually, Branch ventures out only on moonless nights, as he feels the glow of his marks are too visible, too dangerous to just show out and about, for every dangerous predator to see- and it is purely bad luck when bad weather caughts him outside longer than he would have liked, and Poppy manages to catch the sight of him while he is completely unaware he had been seen.

All her conviction flies right out of the window, as she looks at his delicate patterning and her mind just goes blank and - Oh

Usually she would have called out to him, ask him to come to a party- but she feels mesmerized, hypnotized by the elegance of the filigree, and her mind longs for a way to memorate it forever- with a photo, or a painting- and she stares at the entrance of his bunker long after he vanished inside, completely stupefied and wrong footed.

Before, Poppy hardly ever gave Branch a thought, when it came to this part of Pop Troll culture; as part of her, guiltily, sort of assumed that with his lack of colour, his patterning would be rather bland as well- and besides, it's not like he ever shown a desire to participate in courting dances.

But now she is left with sudden new, and unexpected feeling- her heart and breath going now a bit faster everytime she catches a glimpse of him from now on, her cheeks flushing and her tail wagging in excitement

(Her desk's drawer is filled with failed cut out scrapbook pieces of leaves and tiny detailed filigree, as she attempts to journal her sudden and new discover and cant get it quite right)

Tldr; Pop Trolls have fur/flocking patterns that appear only under the moon's light, and Poppy finds Branch's so irresistibly attractive she hardly knows what to do with herself

This pushes her to try and spend more time with him- just spend time with him, no trying to push him to go to parties with her or trying to get him to sing or hug

For his part, Branch is both secretly pleased his own crush is now paying more attention to him than to Creek (who is not happy with this development) but also holy shit Poppy is paying more attention to him, so it is kind of unnerving for him, freaking him out

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls fandom #trolls branch #trolls poppy #Moonlit AU #troll art

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neochan · 2 years

Text

CHERRY FLAVORED THOUGHTS (M)

PAIRING | perv nerd!mark x popular!reader

SYNOPSIS | you invite mark over to study with ulterior motives and he happily goes despite having the filthiest thoughts of you.

WC | 3.8k

WARNINGS | big cock!mark, lower case intended, he's obsessed with your boobs, dry humping, choking, dirty talk, finger sucking, semi clothed sex, dom!mark, name calling, slight oral m receiving, breeding kink (no mention of kids or pregnancy), get's uncomfortably fluffy at the end.

A.N | this came out of nowhere hehe, but i hope you like! send me feedback per usual pls

"markieee" you drawl, skipping over to where he sat in the library, his textbooks scattered messily on the table in front of him. "i need your help!"

he doesn't look up when he responds, "with what."

"don't be like that! it's serious." you pout.

you pull out the chair next to his and sit down, one of your hands reaching underneath the table to grab his knee. immediately he jerks his head up to look at you, his round glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. "wha- what can i help you with?" he stutters, pushing his glasses up with one finger.

"i need you to help me study. mr. moon is gonna kill me with this test tomorrow and i can handle d's but not for this class." you wink at him and watch as his face turns a bright red, "plus you're the smartest guy i know."

in an attempt to look anywhere but your eyes, he accidentally sets his sights on your breasts, which were practically spilling out of your t-shirt. he snaps his attention back to your face and grows small in his chair, "ye-yeah i can help you study."

he was just so gosh darn cute when he stuttered. you begin stroking his knee underneath the table, making him squirm in his chair, "okay that's great! i'll text you my address and you can come over tonight."

"wait tonight?"

your face falls, "oh, do you have plans already? never mind we -"

"no" he hurriedly exclaims, waving his hands in front of his face, "i'm free. i'll be over around eight."

"great!" you beam, giving his knee a squeeze before excusing yourself, "see ya then markie." with soft eyes he watches you leave the library, your too short skirt swishing behind you.

mark always thought you were hot, but you were so far out of his league it wasn't even funny, though that didn't stop him from getting lost in his head from time to time.

he knows its wrong, but sometimes when he can't sleep he's tormented by images of you bending over in class, that damn short cheerleading skirt exposing the bottoms of your panties. and the top left little to the imagination too. it was so tight he could see your breasts jiggle when you laughed too hard. oh god, and your lips. it was seldom you were seen without something shoved between them, whether that be a pencil or a cherry lollipop.

mark can feel himself growing hard in his pants. did he have to be such a perv? if anyone found out about the thoughts he was having he'd be even more of an outcast than he already was.

'quit it.' he tells himself, turning back to the textbooks in front of him, and while the thoughts of you have dimmed a bit, he can't help but find himself realizing that mr. moon never assigned a test for tomorrow.

✎✎✎✎✎✎✎✎✎

your doorbell rings at eight o'clock on the dot.

smiling to yourself you leap off your bed and bound down the stairs to open the front door, revealing a version of mark you've never seen before. usually he wore khakis with a button up polo, like earlier in that day, but now he had on a pair of basketball shorts and a graphic tee that read out some scientific formula. he was still his nerdy self just more ... relaxed.

you open the door wider and wave him in, "i'm glad you made it!" you squeal. he stands there awkwardly before taking a hesitant step into your house. he pulls on the straps of his backpack while looking around.

"don't worry, my roommates aren't home." you purr, grabbing onto his wrist, "c'mon i'll show you to my room." mark slowly nods and you smile to yourself, quite amused.

he watches as you walk ahead of him, tugging you up the carpetted steps, the same skirt you were wearing earlier swaying with the rhythm of your hips. your ass looked so good, so round and... fuck.

mark gulps loudly, almost missing the next step when he realizes you aren't wearing panties. he's getting a wide shot of your bare ass, and he doesn't feel bad in the slightest. in fact, all he can think about it is ruining your pretty ass with his hands, grabbing you and pulling you apart while you sink down on his cock. gripping handfuls of the supple flesh while you climb in his lap . "shut up brain" he mumbles, drawing your attention to him.

"did you say something?" you question.

he clears his throat, "n- no, just wondering if you have a bathroom i can use?"

"yeah of course, here" you say, tugging him down the hallway now that you made it up the stairs, and into your room, "you can set your backpack there," you point to your bed, "and the bathroom is the door at the end of the hall."

"thanks" he mumbles, slinging his bag onto your bright pink comforter. he's dreamt of being in your room before and it looks exactly how he thought it would. and it smelled so good, like the cherry lollipops you were always sucking on.

when mark gets to the bathroom he hurriedly closes the door and leans against it, closing his eyes. he can feel the rising boner peaking through his shorts and he feels like throwing up. 'go down. go down. go down.' he chants over and over again in his head. why does this shit always happen to him! there was no way he could go back out there with a raging hard on. for a split second he wonders if he could jerk off really quickly, but squashes the idea when he hears you yell from your room, "come on markkkk! it's getting late."

"one second." he yells back, face heating up in embarrassment. he'd have to use the ole' waistband tuck and hope that it goes down on its own.

"fuck." he whispers.

✎✎✎✎✎✎✎✎✎

you have chosen to focus on everything but the test material you were supposed to be studying.

instead your mind wanders to the way marks fingers delicately flip through the pages of his notebook, and how he sticks out his tongue between his lips in concentration. oh how you wished that tongue was on you right now.

you sigh and shut your textbook, pointedly looking at mark who only glances up, "i'm sick of studying."

"we haven't even studied." he mumbles, softly closing his own textbook and looking up at you, "and anyway, i know there isn't a test tomorrow. i looked through the syllabus and everything.

fuck. he caught on to you, "are you sure?" you scratch the back of your head sheepishly, "i coulda sworn i heard mr. moon mention one in todays lecture."

"y/n. why am i here?" mark let's his eyes wonder to your breasts when you lean over and grab your backpack. they were squished together, jiggling with your movement and he feels himself getting hard again. his mind drifts to the thought of tit fucking you and how pretty you'd look squirming underneath him while he painted your throat and face with cum.

shoving your materials into your bag you look at him through your lashes, "i think you're hot."

mark almost chokes when he hears the words leave your lips, "m-me?" he questions.

zipping up your back pack, you toss it in the corner of your room and lean forward onto your knees, crawling towards the stunned boy, "yeah, you."

"look," he says lowly, "if this is a prank or a dare by your friends-"

"it's not." you promise.

you come to a stop in front of him and stare into his eyes, watching the way his cheeks and collarbone flush deep red, "s- so you think i'm hot."

"mhm." you hummed, "and i want you to fuck me."

marks eyes grow the size of saucers when he processes what you said. he can feel all the blood drain from his face and rush to his dick so fast he feels almost dizzy, "f-fuck you?"

"you sure do stutter a lot." you giggle.

he brushes off the comment, "you want me to fuck you?"

you giggle again and lean closer to him, "yeah ... so will you?"

mark feels like this is a dream. it's too good to be true and at some point he knows he's bound to wake up. tentatively he reaches a hand out, cupping your soft cheek in his warm palm. you nuzzle against him and that's when he knows it's real life. without answering he pushes off the ground and stands up, "get on the bed."

you can feel your pussy clench at the way he commands you like he already knew what he wanted to do; like he's thought of this before. you follow his orders and sit on your bed gingerly, waiting for his next move.

"take off your top." he orders, pulling his own t-shirt over his head and tossing it on the floor.

"oh my god." you whine. who knew the nerdiest boy at your college was built like that. deep set muscles cover his lower abdomen, his pecs poking out a little more now that the shirt was gone. and here you were thinking he was scrawny underneath his clothes.

hurriedly ridding yourself of your top, you let his eyes wash over your body, drinking in what he's dreamed about for months. "you know, i should have known this was a set up when i saw you weren't wearing panties."

"it wasn't-" you start, but he cuts you off by sitting down next to you and pulling you onto his lap.

"it was." he breathes, hands running up and down your back. "and you wanted me to see, right?" you furiously nod your head yes. "that's what i thought. and don't think i haven't noticed how you act in class. bending over so i see your cute little panties and sucking on your lollipops so i think about how pretty your lips would look around my cock instead. you're not slick. you're just a slut who needs to be fucked, huh?"

his words have you rocking back and forth in his lap desperate for his touch, "mark please." you whisper.

his hands fumble behind your back for a second before undoing your bra clasp and sliding it down your shoulders, chucking it to the other side of the room. "that's better. you have such pretty tits." he marvels, cupping them in his hands, squeezing and kneading the soft skin. his thumbs jut out to flicker over your nipples, forcing you to arch up against him.

"god," you whimper, "that feel's good."

"hm." he hums, dipping his head down to take one of your nipples in his mouth. he rolls the sensitive bud between his teeth, harshly sucking while his hands slip under your skirt and grab your ass, pulling you closer to him.

"m-mark." you whine, eyes closed and hands finding their way in his hair, tugging on the roots.

"look who's stuttering now." he chuckles, detaching himself with a wet pop. he stares at you for moment, watching the way your nose scrunches and your lips purse before blurting out, "i'm gonna kiss you now."

'huh-" you begin, snapping your eyes open but mark is already on you, lips softly brushing yours before pulling you deep into a heated kiss. you tasted like those cherry flavored lollys you always had in class even though you hadn't had one today, it drove him mad. you push against him, grinding down on his lap repeatedly while hugging him close, fingers still tangled in his hair. his lips felt like heaven, soft and pillowy and perfect against your own and it made you dizzy.

you moan against him when he pinches your nipple, rolling it between his forefinger and thumb, his other arm wrapping around your waist so that you couldn't squirm as much. slowly he rocks his hips into you, pulling back so that only your foreheads were touching. "god, the things you do to me." he groans.

you giggle and untangle your hands from his hair, grabbing the sides of his glasses and sliding them off his face, "don't want these to get in the way." you lightly toss them on your desk and mark thanks you, "i never thought you'd be like this." you whisper.

"like what?" he leans down and nips at your neck, pressing delicate kisses along the side of your throat all the way to the spot just below your ear. "i'm not all books and brains you know."

"n-no i get that, it's just..." your hands fiddle in the space between your bodies, fingers playing with the waistband of his shorts, "i didn't think you'd be all commanding."

he gives a short chuckle before blowing hot air in your ear and making you shiver, "what? you thought i'd be shy? submissive?" he says the word like it's a dirty thing, something he can't even fathom becoming. "i mean, if you wanna tie me up -"

"no" you blurt, "i like this."

he smirks against you, his nose skimming your cheek and coming to fit right beside your own, lips matching yours like a perfect puzzle. he hovers over yours, "you like this?"

"yeah." you whisper, almost like a secret.

"what about this?" mark reaches around your body and pulls you back down against him, this time matching you and rutting up against your bare sex. a breathless gasp flies from your lips when he gently swivels his hips, the outline of his cock rubbing against your folds. you're pretty sure if he looked there would be a wet patch on the front of his shorts.

"shit." you moan, holding on to him while he continues to grind against you.

"you're so needy, huh?" he grins, pressing his lips to yours and melding into a kiss that has your legs shaking around him. his tongue swipes your bottom, teeth snagging and drawing you in. you whimper into the kiss and he does the same, loving the way you feel in his arms. he pulls back a bit, mumbling against your lips, "wanna feel it?"

"please." you groan, hopping off his lap and settling yourself on the bed, leaning down so that you were pretty much eye level with the front of his short now that he was stood in front of you.

mark still can't believe this is happening. was this a sick prank? a joke? was he sure he wasn't dreaming? here he had you eagerly awaiting his cock. it just didn't seem right, the divine universe had to have some explanation for this. 'shut up' he groans in his head.

slender fingers wrap around the waistband of his shorts and pushes them down so that they pooled around his ankles.

"no fucking way."

mark lee was huge. his cock sprung up against his abdomen standing tall and rigid, pretty pink tip collecting droplets of precum. he was thick too, a nice size that would feel heavy in your mouth if you took him there.

"what?" he asks, blushing and fighting the urge to cover himself, "i know it might not be that big-"

"not big??" you splutter, eyes incredulous at the sight in front of you, "it's fucking huge mark."

the compliment goes straight to his dick and now instead of fighting the urge to cover himself, he's fighting the urge to push you back on the bed and fuck you till you were screaming his name. "put it in your mouth then" he groans, taking a step towards you, "lets see if it can fit." your hand shoots out from under you and wraps around his length, warm and pulsing in your hand, his hips stutter into your touch.

"shit." he whispers, watching the way your tongue darts out to taste him, his hand stroking your hair, eyes twinkling with adoration, "don't just lick it. open up." you do as he says and open for him. he pushes into your mouth slowly until you're gagging and can't take any more, mouth too full, but with one look you realize you hadn't even gotten half way down his length. "that's it baby? god you're even more pathetic that i thought. can't even properly swallow my dick?" he pulls out, allowing you to catch a much needed breath, "lets see if your pussy can take it all instead." he pushes you backwards and climbs overtop you, knocking your thighs apart with his knee.

your mind is reeling from everything that's happening. it's been so much better than you could have imagined. he was bigger, cockier and sexier with his nose out of his books and clothes off. no one would believe you if you told them about tonight, not even your roommates.

mark shoves your skirt up until it's bunched around your waist, "mind elsewhere?" he questions, one of hands wrapping around your throat and squeezing slightly, "you thinking about someone else?"

"n-no mark, i'm thinking about you." you whine, hips lifting off the bed in anticipation.

"good. pay attention."

his hand guides himself, rubbing the tip against your clit before sliding it down between your folds. teasingly he barely pushes the tip in before pulling away. "mark!" you whimper, but all he does is squeeze your throat a bit tighter, "please" he pushes the tip in again, this time looking in your eyes, and he doesn't pull out. he thrusts into you, all the way in and you feel like you're losing it. your eyes flutter into the back of your head, nails finding his shoulders and gripping the soft skin, surely leaving marks. "f-fuck you're so big!'

it was slightly uncomfortable but the second he moved you felt overwhelming pleasure jolt through you, "mm, i knew you could take it." he grins, shallowly fucking into you, "and you're so fucking tight. gonna make me go crazy."

you squirm in his grip, "fuck me, please."

"whatever you say baby."

his hand leaves your throat and grabs at your waist instead, using the skirt secured around it as leverage. he wastes no time in slamming into you, thrusting with such fervor you can feel yourself losing your mind. "shit!" you squeal, nails digging even deeper into his shoulders. his eyes glance down, admiring the way your tits jiggled every time he pushed his hips into you. "right there, right there! god you're fucking huge." you scream, covering your face with your hands.

"look at me," he growls, and you have no choice but to move your trembling hands. two fingers press against your lips and into your mouth, gagging you. "if you can't take my cock down your throat, might as well suck on my fingers." his breathy is shaky when you swirl your tongue around his digits, sucking slightly and feels like he's going to faint. your pussy is sucking him in, walls spasming with each of his thrusts, and your gagging around his fingers. he wonders if you feel full. maybe next time you'll let him toy with your ass a little bit, so then you'll really feel full. 'get out of your head' he chastises himself. there might not even be a next time. after all, he was fucking one of the most popular girls at his college, he was kidding himself if thought this was gonna happen again. guess he had to make this time count.

"spread your legs a little bit more baby," when you don't he ends up pushing you thighs apart, finger digging into your skin and leaving indents. your head moves from side to side, legs shaking in marks grasp, "baby you're acting like you can't handle it. you're the one who asked me to fuck you!" he chides, laughing coldly.

"i can handle it!" you buck up against him, chasing your the knot that was tightening in your stomach.

"damn right you can." mark loves the way you fall apart underneath him... because of him. "just keep taking my fat cock baby. i bet you've wanted this for so long, huh?"

"i think about it every time i see you in class," you huff.

mark didn't care if you were lying just to please him, it makes him feel good. the fact that you've both thought about this and now it was finally happening. his thrusts become sloppy, hands roughly grabbing a handful of ass and tits, squeezing and massaging them.

"i think i'm gonna cum baby. ah shit, i'm gonna cum." he moans, hips stuttering into you.

"fill me up markie, pls i want it so bad." you whisper, the pet name being what he needs to finish, milky ropes of cum flooding your pussy in a way that has you following suit, the knot in your tummy unraveling. he holds eye contact with you the entire time, his brows drawing up in ecstasy when he watches yours disappear. when he's spent, he falls onto you, caging you in his arms. you pull him close for support, shallow thrusts into your cunt helping you ride out your orgasm. at one point he tries to move but you keep him there, tightening your arms, "please, don't move."

"i won't." he promise, "i won't, i'm here." he chuckles against the side of your neck, wet kisses being placed where he's buried in your arms, "the way your eyes roll back into your head when you cum is fucking hot."

you giggle, "thank you markie."

"so.." he questions, peaking his head up but still staying in your arms, "this wasn't a dare or something?" he still felt like this was too good to be true.

"mark!" you swat his shoulders and air hisses between his teeth.

"okay okay." he sighs defensively, "then i guess you wouldn't mind me taking you on a date?" you hesitate a bit and immediately he's apologizing, "we aren't from the same social circles, i know that but-"

"shut up mark. i don't care if we don't hang out with the same people. i genuinely like you." you smile at him.

"then ..."

"i would love if you took me on a date." he grins back at you before burying his head back into the crook of your neck. "who knew nerds fucked so good?' you blurt out, laughing.

"not nerds plural. just me." he mumbles against your skin.

it felt nice just laying in his arms, basking in the after sex glow with the boy you've been crushing on for ages. "we should get cleaned up, huh?" you whisper and he sighs against you.

"let's stay like this for a few more minutes. i like the way you smell... like cherries."

you smile to yourself, "just for you."

TAGLIST | @dearj43 @peachjaem00 @angelwonie @byunbaekcult @jaeminslut @svtrny @saintlyhyuck @tennieboiii @minisxng @rainyjeno

#nct mark smut #mark lee x reader #nct mark x reader #mark lee smut #nct dream smut #nct mark lee smut #nct mark lee x reader #mark lee x y/n #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 mark x reader #nct mark imagine #mark lee fluff #nct mark lee fluff

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sanctus-ingenium · 6 months

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Just wanted to ask, please forgive me if you've already answred this, what program do you use? Your art fucks HARD and like. I was looking at your art of the two moths over the city they die in and I was hit with the wave of "oh that looks really fucking fun actually." Like i know my art program can't do some of those effects and like, I'd love to try fucking about with them.

hi there, thank you! all my art is done in procreate and paint tool sai

because you mentioned that drawing in particular i thought it would be fun to break it down and show ppl what exactly went into each part of it so check this out

sketch & lineart - the brushes come from georgbrush.club and the urban sketcher is my most commonly used lineart brush, it has a nice irregular shape. the square brush is nice for big blocky sketches.

the cityscape was REALLY hard but basically I got a photo of the skyline of florence, traced some basic building shapes, then bullshitted the rest using the vertical symmetry/mirror tool to cut down on the amount of work (so i only had to sketch one half of the city). then for lineart I turned off vertical symmetry, turned on the two-point perspective tool, and got this:

the rose windows were made using the radial symmetry tool.

I didn't like it being so flat, so I used the liquify tool to make a kind of fish-eye effect (limited success tbh). I liked how it looked but the buildings in front needed something to cover them up to make the liquification less obvious...

first pass colours. I felt they were very washed out, aside from the sun which i loved. I use the spectra brush (default procreate) for skyscapes a lot, I love the texture. Although the clouds were filled in using the lasso selection tool, I softened the edges using the square pencil again and added texture using true grit sampler grainy brushes. The translucency effect comes from my setting the brush as an eraser. The sun rays come from the radial symmetry tool.

Blocking in the moths' colours was done with the urban sketcher again.

Something people may not have noticed is the labyrinth hidden in the sky! yeah I had a bunch of versions where it was more obvious but I found that it clashed a bit and was too busy, so I made it subtle. But yes. I searched for "royalty free labyrinth" and picked one.

The toner grit brush is one you've seen before if you've looked at any art on tumblr lately (this is such a popular brush) and it's from the true grit fast grit set. The pointillism brush is from the true grit free sampler pack, like my grain brushes.

I added shadows to the moths, increased saturation overall, and changed the clouds to a translucent blue (you can even see in the sun where I forgot to block in the sun itself because the clouds over it used to be opaque lol). Moon rays were drawn using the radial symmetry tool but this time with rotational symmetry off. I also moved the moon down closer to the moths because I felt that it was a bit far away, and this served to visually divide the drawing into three equal parts, so I chose to lean into that and divide the sky colours too, to show passing time, or an endless moment - morning, evening, night, etc.

And then the oroborous, I tried a few different effects on it because I wanted it to be very clearly separate from the main scene - I settled on a dot matrix newsprint texture, using procreate's onboard tool, and some heavy chromatic aberration. This is because the oroborous isn't real, it's purely symbolic and the moths' demise started when they became photographers so I liked the print media aspect there as well. The story itself is about grief without closure, cyclical violence, and sunk cost fallacy, while everyone explores an endless labyrinth, so an oroborous fits I think

what makes art fun to me is thinking up ways I can tell a story using just a single image. and sure a lot of it will be lost to an audience who isn't familiar with the characters or backstory but i want to leave enough in there that even complete strangers to my work will be able to construct a narrative about what's happening here, rather than it just being a cool image. that's my goal.

Finally I exported it to sai on my pc to give it a once-over. this is really important because the retina display on an ipad is oversaturated on purpose, to make everything look amazing and vibrant. but what this means is that on other screens, your work might look washed out. it's especially bad at displaying yellows! so i look at it in sai on my pc and i make minor adjustments, in this case I actually added another multiply layer on the moths and an overlay on their non-shadowed parts to increase the contrast there.

finally if you've read this far, I played a little trick with the caption of the drawing. yeah, THEY die... but only one of those moths is a theythem pronoun haver... the other has to survive. he isn't given a choice in the matter.

#fr you will never catch me trying to mystify my process i will explain literally everything #brushes

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allmyloveandyours · 1 year

Text

Astrology Observations #2!!!

Hi I'm back with more assumptions and thoughts (i got a lot of them). These are all opinions! Take what resonates! Also I'm not a professional, tell me if I got something wrong :D

Venus in Gemini/Air signs are not flaky (Idk I see a lot of people say this). They're surprisingly loyal, although they may be loyal to people who embody air style qualities rather than them exuding it themselves when it comes to love.

Jupiter opposite Ascendant in your chart can point to a very eccentric person, but they also may have trouble seeing how they actually are, and can have a negative self view, especially with "harsh" (Neptune, Pluto, maybe Mars) planets in 12th house.

Saturn in 11th house can point to achieving your goals later in life/after your Saturn return. With heavy air in the chart, you could've been a wild child.

Cancer Mars natives remind me a lot of car salesmen. They kinda can convince you to buy anything they want, especially if Lilith is in 2nd or 10th house. They can convince you to do anything.

Your close friends may have similar Lilith/your Lilith's get along. Everyone I've been extremely close to also have an Aries Lilith, or something that Lilith would get along with it. Kinda just a fun observation but still. Has anyone else noticed this?

Wherever Neptune is in your chart can tell you where people project onto you, or where you're forgotten the most. For example, Neptune in 4th may have people putting you into positions of Cancer like roles (caring, and supportive), or thinking you have a more than fine family life when you don't, as that area is where you essentially become a mirror.

South Node in Synastry is the coolest thing ever tbh. That's something you immediately feel in your soul. Especially South Node conjunct Mercury. That's your sibling right there. Blood or not.

Celebrities you adore may have the same moon sign/element you.

Singers with Venus in Taurus or Libra have the prettiest voices. Their lyrics either very poetic and powerful of they primary sound expensive or talk a sing a lot about luxuries.

Venus conjunction Midheaven will always be remembered as pretty. ALWAYS. Life and death.

Any planets in 8th house could show what people obsess about over you. For example, Pluto in 8th could have people obsess over your transformations, or try their best to expose you to more taboo things. Whatever the planet rules over normally, it can add a bit of a forceful or darker theme to it. It isn't always intense but it's always interesting when you notice it.

I've been thinking of Placidus vs Whole Sign, since my astrologers use both those, and one of them said that Placidus is more mental and Whole Sign is the world around you, and I have a lil bit of a theory:

Placidus - mental, friends, fans/what people see in you

Whole Sign - first impression, vibes you give off, the house system you look at for results.

They're both accurate, but Whole sign has always been the most accurate when it comes to external results like solar returns and such, and Placidus is kinda how people treat me if that makes sense?

Just a theory I don't know too too much about the difference of their (someone explain maybe plz I'm begging use small words)

Virgo in Lilith could face people nitpicking them for the littlest of things. The house can tell who's doing it/what it's about. Like In 9th people could try to pick at how you study/be classmates, elements of your spiritually/people of the same faith, and attempt to wear you down.

Aspects to your natal Juno can show your "turn ons" and icks when it comes to finding the one. Juno trine Moon could mean you like someone who's open with emotions and can be vulnerable, but square Moon could mean you're not a fan of sappy or dotting people.

Squares in Synastry are my favorite to look at, especially with longer terms relationships. Anything aspects to the ascendant can tell how they first met (in my experience). My favorite scenario was a married couple who met when the husband crashed a friend of the wife's bday party. Squares in sun, Venus, Mars, and Saturn. The wife later said that he stood out like nobody's business, but she liked that 🥺

Juno in Synastry is also something I like looking at with family members. Having a relatives jump conjunct a personal planet is such a warming thing. Like Juno conjunct Moon can mean they're emotionally invested in your well being, or conjunct Jupiter means they may go out of their way to help further education or world view. It's really sweet.

Mars can show where you come off too strong. Mars in 2nd could show you come off too strong when it comes to making money or showing off personally skills. 12th could be you fighting the urge to come off too strong and giving off a ":|" vibe instead.

Ok that's it correct me on stuff if you feel like it idk I like talking to ppl about this stuff

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

Ayyy I'm back with another request

No hurry on this, though, because you wrote me an amazing one not long ago and I want you to have some well-earned rest.

Anyway, can I please request a poly!marauders where the r has glasses and they see her without her glasses for the first time. I wear glasses and am mildly insecure about wearing them and taking them off. It's a vicious cycle😭 I'd adore having some lovey-dovey boys fawning over me regardless of my eyewear

Thanks a million

-🔮

Here you go my love! Thanks for requesting <3

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 925 words

You touch your middle finger to the bridge of your nose, pushing up frames that aren’t there. You feel immediately silly. How long will it take to kick that habit?

You have to admit, it’s nice to not have to worry about your lenses fogging as you stir the boiling water, or your glasses slipping off when you peer into the pot to check on the pasta. Still, this new freedom feels oddly like it’s come at a cost. It seems a bit ridiculous to miss your glasses, but it’s been years since you’ve been without them, and you feel sort of naked. Your face looks different in the reflection of the microwave, nothing obscuring the area around your eyes. It’s odd to see yourself so clearly without anything in the way.

The door opens, Sirius’ voice booming. “You’ll never believe what happened on the way home.”

“What?” you call, and you can hear him kick off his shoes in just any direction, the thump thump thump of them bouncing on the floor. Later, Remus will straighten them with a patient sigh. Sirius’ footsteps head for the kitchen.

“This guy stopped me to ask for the time, and I told him, and he said—whoa. Hey baby, what’s new?”

You smile down at the pasta. “He called you baby?”

“I…what? No, you’re baby.” Sirius shakes his head before you look up and he realizes you’re messing with him. Never one to lose the upper hand, he fixes you with one of his suaver looks, eyes narrowing until they’re mostly gray and a smirk twisting his lips. “Don’t play coy with me, pretty thing. You think you can distract me from all this?” Triumph sparks in his eyes as you feel your face warm, and he presses on. “Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?”

You roll your eyes, opening a cabinet door between you to grab the olive oil. “It’s my Clark Kent plan. You’re not supposed to recognize me, so I guess it’s not working.”

“Takes more than glasses to fool me, sweetheart.” His voice is silky smooth, but when you close the cabinet, he’s studying you. “It’s a good look. I like you both ways, obviously, but variety is the spice of life or whatever. Maybe we should get James to switch it up every now and then.”

Remus emerges from down the hall, drawn out by your voices.

“Moons, have you seen this?” Sirius asks. “Someone’s replaced our girl with one who has working eyes.”

“Not working eyes,” you correct him, self-conscious as Remus comes over, his eyebrows lifting slightly, “an old glasses prescription. I’m switching to contacts until I can get a new pair.”

“You look nice,” Remus says, that mild, effortless kindness in his tone. “Does it feel different?”

“Weird,” you agree, taking the pot off the stove. Remus anticipates you, bringing the colander to the sink, and you give him a smile of thanks. “I feel like Velma from Scooby Doo, you know? Like my eyes look like tiny little dots without them.”

Sirius scoffs, and Remus' voice is lightly chiding when he says, “They’re not. You look just as lovely now as you did with them on.”

You barely have time to blush before Sirius is upon you, stepping into your space. “And,” he says, “let’s try this.” He kisses you, and you can’t claim you weren’t expecting it but you’re far from ready, grateful for the support of his hand at your waist as you feel your knees go a bit wobbly. Sirius presses his mouth into yours heavily, nose pushing at the skin of your cheek. When he pulls back, you feel like you’re reeling. “See? Much easier without those wide frames in the way.”

“You’re the worst,” you say, and Remus chuckles as James steps into the kitchen. You hadn’t even heard the door open.

“What, without me?” he asks, taking in you and Sirius’ proximity and the wetness of your lips. Then hardly a beat later, “You’re not wearing your glasses.”

“She needs a new prescription,” Sirius says, stepping away from you to pour the strained pasta back into the pot like nothing’s happened. “She’s wearing contacts for now.”

“Whoa.” James moves closer, looking at your face like he hasn’t had the chance to really inspect it until now. “So when you get your new glasses, can we help you pick?”

Sirius whips around in his excitement, and Remus moves him aside before the pasta can start to stick, adding olive oil and the herbs you’d cut up to the pot. “I hadn’t even thought of that,” Sirius gawps at you. “We have to, it’ll be so fun.”

You try to imagine it, your boyfriends focussing intently on your face as they assess which frames suit you best. It’d be the peak of flattery and awkwardness. “Okay,” you say, busying yourself with getting water for everyone. “I could use the extra input.”

“I’m sure whatever you pick will look great,” James promises, taking a couple of cups from you with a kiss to your cheek. “If you want, you should pick up some more contacts while we’re there, too.”

“Maybe,” you muse. “But which do you like better—with, or without glasses?”

“Either way, dove,” Remus hums, dishing out his helping of pasta. “The differences are tiny, and it’s still you.”

“Yeah, I can’t pick,” Sirius agrees, getting in line behind Remus. “You can do your Clark Kent bit all you want, but you’re gonna look like our gorgeous girl both ways.”

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months

Note

BRO I'VE BEEN HOLDING BACK CAUSE I THOUGHT YOU'D ALREADY HAVE TOO MANP CAP. MACTAVISH REQUESTS I-

I'm here to rectify this issue immediately, how about one with him and the reader being soft? something bout seeing this rugged man melt when he comes home to his darling just egIUAfosnkew IT'S SO SWEET

—Look At The Stars; Look At Me

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Stargazing in the middle of an overgrown and wild glade.] ❞

You breathe slowly, eyes gazing longingly far above you at the twinkling lights. They take up your pupils in the low glow of the moon—the dots of those far-off globes of hydrogen and helium shining bright.

The glade behind the hidden forest home is filled with the scent of wildflowers, grass, and the grind of fresh earth; it captures your nostrils as the fireflies come out to dance on iridescent wings. Under you, John’s blanket lets you be just the tiniest bit closer to him for the moment, limbs loose, sleep-clothes compliant to the flow of the breeze as it spreads a whisper through the leaves.

A deer snorts downwind, a low call over the air that can be felt in the gentle quiet. Crickets creak like the old floorboards of a lived-in home. You’re eased by the knowledge that, as your Lover drives back to this place—back to you—he’s under the same stars as the ones you gawk at in the skin of an awe-drunk woman who loves him more than even this.

A car pulls down the worn-grass road, and you hear the brakes lightly squeak on that shitty rental, a smile twitches along your face, but you don’t move.

He knows where to find you this late; knows you wouldn’t go to sleep when he’d called you not two hours earlier to say he’s back.

The both of you are stubborn and know the other more than a priest knows his own God.

A soft whistle lets you know he’ll be there in a moment, coming from behind the treeline before the sound of a car door getting closed echoes. The birds pause for a moment, though not seconds later they re-start their bedtime symphonies.

There’s a rustling, and your heart picks up the pace gradually, excitement making your lips peel slowly back into a wide smile as you gaze at the Herdsman and his glittering Arcturus star. Painting pictures in your mind, you think of the untold number of things he’s seen from his deep-space throne as your lover returns like a lumbering hound, already hearing his large sigh at the sight of you.

You don’t shift your gaze until an accented comment makes you chuckle.

“Bit of a cold night to be doin’ this,” John’s face peaks into your field of view, leaning above you with his arms crossed—one of those dark brows raised.

He looks worse for wear with a big bruise over the left side of his jaw, and medical tape on his dark eyebrow ridge. The scar is still there, over his left eye; his orbs that continue to glint more than the stars ever could in your gaze.

You hum in your throat, blinking up at him with a tilted nose.

“What?” Your voice makes the hardness of his face dim, a small sigh through his nostrils as if he could never truly get out of that version of himself without hearing you speak first. “Did you expect me to miss a view like this?”

He scoffs, tilting his head. “I’m not that much of an idiot. Move it.”

You smile widely, staying directly in the middle of his blanket as a smirk slashes the Captain’s lips, his blues deepening. A bird darts away from above his head.

“Already misbehaving, then? Not a good start, Little Lady.”

“I was here first, MacTavish.” He makes an amused noise in his throat, moving his hands from his arms to grasp under yours. You squeal, laughing loudly as he drags you up with a low chuckle into his large shirt and tucked pants.

“Aye, you were here first,” he brings you up into his arms—a bridal hold that leads you to wrap your arms around his neck as you shake with glee, burying your head into his flesh. “Never said you weren’t.” Lips whisper into your ear and he can feel your smile as it spreads against him. “But you’ve got to pick your battles wisely, eh? I’m the one who can carry you on my arm.”

You kiss his neck a few times, quick kisses in between mutterings of love; his beard shifts as he lets a small smile, amusement lingering yet dimming for something far more important. The word seems more alive than it had moments ago, but that’s not a bad thing. No, not at all.

“What’s the point of interest tonight, then?” He slips off his boots and walks you back onto the blanket, smoothing it out with his foot before he grunts and settles down—you in his lap. “I’ve lost where we were last time.”

“The Herdsman, John,” you remind gently, pushing on his chest so he lays back with no argument, shifting you into the crook of his right arm as it circles you. He gently squeezes and presses you tighter.

On his chest you place your head, arm snaking around his waist to suck in his warmth with a soft sigh.

“Ah, that’s right. Herdsman.”

He kisses your forehead, digging his nose into you and closing his eyes softly. None of the stars could compare to the one in his arms—he’ll leave the gazing to you in the meantime.

Your body in the gap between his arm was all he needed.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @waves-against-a-cliff, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

#cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #x female reader #call of duty x you #captain mactavish x reader #captain mactavish #captain john mactavish #john mactavish x you #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #soap call of duty #soap mactavish #soap cod #soap x reader #x fem!reader #john mactavish

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dateko · 8 months

Text

˚｡⋆ [4:01 AM] GOJO SATORU

a/n: it has come to absolutely no one's surprise that i have dropped yet another poorly written timestamp in which two people lie in bed... i spent the rest of the day wallowing in self-pity and typed whatever this mess is... enjoy!

The day barely rises and the moon faintly lingers when Satoru wakes for yet another tedious work trip. Allowing himself to indulge in the quiet, the sorcerer’s eyes trace every inch of the figure sleeping beside him, committing every line and dot to memory. A soft mumble leaves his lips, internally fighting himself with the thought of having to leave you alone once again.

He watches you fondly with a familiar sense of longing. He wonders if you’re aware of how much he thinks about you, how much his heart burns at the mere thought of you, wanting only you to be with him. You came into his life so suddenly, catching him in a moment that threw him into a whirlwind of weakness. Yet even after all of it, after every twist and turn, Satoru is nothing but proud to be yours.

Beneath the bulky comforter, your limbs are intertwined with his in a perfect tango. Like a puzzle piece, you’re slotted perfectly against his broad chest, face buried beneath the white tufts of hair. Satoru sighs again, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as he plants a feathery kiss atop your temple, signaling his inevitable departure.

To this, do you begin to stir, grumbling and muttering something Satoru isn’t sure he can decipher. His hands cradle your head, thumbs sliding across your heavy eyelids as he watches you open your tired eyes in a way that he thinks could kill him instantly. With one eye fully open and seeing, you look at your partner with a pout, tilting your head to feel more of his warmth.

Already knowing where he’d be off to in a few minutes, you still offer him a pair of pleading eyes. “Not yet,” Your hand finds his wrist and the croak in your voice causes you to wince. “Can’t you stay?”

The two of you know more than well that the answer was out of the question. Yet you both continue to hold on and relive this same morning exchange time and time again, trading turns in a dance to ask the other if they could simply just… Stay.

For Jujutsu sorcerers, there is never an option, nor is there a choice to stay. With the line of work you share, there are only so many of you that can go on missions. Always going, fighting, leaving. Nothing is ever enough, and no one ever stays. So many of you repeatedly risk lives and fight without end. And if there isn’t you, there’s Gojo Satoru. He goes where he’s needed, and he goes anywhere where he can to rewrite the world. The very world that was altered the day he was born.

When you remind him of this, Satoru looks at you as if he’s ventured through every universe. With a voice so confident and unwavering eyes that hold nothing but truth, he answers that the only place he needs to be in is with you.

“Sweetheart, we both know I can’t be late… Again.” Gojo whines, dropping his hand from your face.

“Oh? Since when did you care about being late?”

“I don’t.”

“Then stay here with me, just for a little bit.” You try again, poking him beneath the covers and encasing his waist with your legs. “Don’t tell me someone’s cursed you…”

He laughs at your words, a smile reaching his ears. You’re too much like him these days. The simple thought of that scared him. The way you act so carefree, how you can still smile and readily take on anything that may come your way. It lights a fire of fear in him, knowing you’ve placed all your trust in him. That wall you’ve once surrounded yourself with crumbled completely just by his existence alone.

“The only curse I have is you.” Satoru teases, flicking your forehead. You let out a groan and pull yourself into him, trying to be as close to your lover as possible. Satoru can’t help but hold you tighter, almost as if you’d slip away from his grasp. Whatever mission he had today could wait for a few more minutes. The warmth that you radiated was a more pressing matter.

“I’ll tell you what…” You trail off, eyeing the way his deft fingers play with your own. They seem to linger around your fourth finger, playing with something imaginary, almost as if there was something sitting there. “I’ll let you go if you can escape my grasp!”

“What a challenge.” Satoru smirks.

Your attempt to cage the strongest in your arms is fruitless from the very start. There was no one that could ever counter his strength. They would be a fool if they even endeavored in such an act. The sorcerer is swift in his moments, and within a blink, you are pushed flat against the pillows.

Hovering over your delicate figure, a winsome smile graces his lips. “I win.”

Huffing, you bring your palms up to frame his sharp face. Satoru mirrors the gaze you have on him, watching your features carefully, afraid to leave you out of his sight. He wonders if you knew that the world he fought so hard to protect was holding him so delicately.

“Be good ‘til I get back, okay? We can stay in bed all day long.”

#when will i graduate from domestic fluff university #I'M A SUPER SUPER SUPER SENIOR.#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo fluff #i apologize i left it at that I WAS VERY SCARED I WAS GOING TO GET ANGSTY.... I HAD TO STOP MYSELF1 #jjk #rbs/replies are appreciated pls tell me if u want gojo in you(r life)

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revasserium · 2 months

Note

oh don't ask me for requests, you know I deliver. What about Zoro with number 30?

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble

30. invention of the dictionary

opla!zoro; 882 words; fluff, teeth-rotting fluff, strawhat!reader, gn!reader, no "y/n", unconventional format, whipped!zoro

summary: truth, love, still, and stolen

a/n: been a while since i've written something so chill but i rly like this one u__u nice, short, and sweet!

He has never been a man of many words, but meeting you has made him wonder about the exact reason dictionaries were invented. What scholar (for it must have been a scholar, Zoro thinks) could have amassed such a knowledge of words and meanings that they decided the only way to keep track was to write it down? Or perhaps it was simply someone in love — someone who felt too much and yearned too hard and never had the words big enough or heavy enough, wide enough or deep enough, to fully encompass the way they were feeling.

Because he’s never been a man of many words, but meeting you has him reaching for the tattered dictionary they’d found in a treasure chest, washed ashore on a small, insignificant island — not unlike you. You with your windswept hair and your skin smelling of salt and cream and a thousand midnight mysteries. You, and the way your eyes hold worlds that Zoro’s certain he’d never have the privilege of seeing.

But sometimes when he kisses you, he thinks he can taste the remnants of their exotic fruits beneath the sweet of your tongue, and sometimes when you kiss him back hard enough, he can feel it in the crescent moon marks you leave inked into his skin. Like dotted lines on a treasure map.

You’d been a traveling bounty-hunter, not so unlike who he’d been in a past life, one that he can barely even remember. And your laughter had been just the right shade of lost for Luffy to take notice. No one had thought twice about it after that — and you blended in with the crew as a shot of rum in a morning espresso — which is to say perfectly.

He finds himself flipping through the thin, water-warped pages of the dictionary, pausing on words he’d always thought he knew — words like truth, and love. Words like still, and stolen.

And so, here are some words that Roronoa Zoro has learned and re-learned the meanings of. All because of you.

truth noun.

the quality or state of being true

a fact or belief that is accepted as true

a thing so fundamental that it never has to be questioned — like the rising of the sun in the east or the setting of the moon in the west; something that pulses with the very rhythm of the universe, like the ebb and flow of the tides or the way that autumn always feels a little bit like goodbye — or how birdsong will inevitably be followed by the sprouting of spring, and how March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb, and how Zoro’s never questioned just how much he’s loved you, or even whether or not he’d fallen in love. He simply woke up one day and knew.

love noun.

an intense feeling of deep affection

a great interest or pleasure in something

you, your smile, the way you hold your chopsticks, how you press your hand to your stomach when you laugh, the way your lips feel as they trail along Zoro’s jawline, the way your heartbeat rhymes with the gentle rush of the sea

verb.

to feel deep affection for someone or something

to like or enjoy very much

to dream of a life with you, and all the things you might do — to lie awake at night counting your breaths as you fall asleep next to him, to press his lips into the seam of your hair and know that when he wakes up in the morning, you’ll still be right there next to him

still noun/adj./verb

not moving or making a sound

deep silence or calmness

to make or become still

the way the world feels the first time you cry, how the planets themselves seem to grind to a deadly halt, how Zoro’s world tilts on the axis of you and doesn’t stop until he wonders if everything around him is upside down and inside out — how you curl into yourself when the monsters in your past become more than shadows and whispers that creep in the dark, or when the darkness comes knocking and you bury your face in his shoulder, your voice a whisper as you beg — please… help me.

adverb

up to and including the present time mentioned

nevertheless; all the same

how he knows he loves you, the way that the sea loves the sky — even after a devastating rainstorm; how there’s blood on his swords, blood soaking through the wooden planks but he’s got you in his arms so it’s going to be alright; how you let him carry you and hold you close; how he lets you carry him as well; how the pair of you curve around each other like a parenthetical, two bookends to a library of memories stored in the negative space between you; how you are with each other after all of this, still.

stolen verb (*past participle of steal)

take without permission or legal right, without the intent to return

move somewhere quietly or surreptitiously

his heart, his mind, his body, his soul — and him with you.

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oddballwriter · 9 months

Text

Moon Boys w/ Reader who is on their Period

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Warnings: Mentions of periods, cramps, and other period symptoms (of course). Reader is kept gender neutral for all my he/hims and they/thems who still have their periods. Mention of Layla, I know that’s not really anything but whatever.

Author’s Snip: Guess who’s on his period! Me! So might as well use this as something to help fill out my MoonKnight masterlist.

Notes: There is no dysphoria talk in here but if anyone wants that they can request it.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Steven Grant

Steven of course knows what a period is but he’s never actually been with someone long enough to come to the part were they would get their period or see them while on their period

He’s great support though

If you have any issues while on your period like bad cramps or fatigue he’s right there to help

Steven actually reads up and researches as much as he can about periods and menstrual cycles to actually understand what’s happening and how to help you

If you hold up fine on your own then he respects that but if you need something he’s on it

Literally nothing is too big of a task for him. If you want a specific snack then he’s going to go get it and some extra things

He’s had a cashers look at him after noticing all the stuff he’s buying and say “You’re a good man.” or just give him a knowing look

Steven does get a little scared if your moody because he doesn’t like feeling like you’re mad at him. But he understands.

I mean you’re bleeding against your will for several days and can sometimes be in pain and still have to go on with your day like you’re not. That’s defiantly not comfortable. He’d be a bit snappy if he had to go through that.

Steven is a huge cuddle bug so if you want him to hold you while you sit through a cramp he’s right there and holding your heating pad for you

He’s just a sweetie the whole time

Marc Spector

He was married to Layla

He knows how it goes

Marc isn’t doting like Steven (very much) is, but he’s not going to tell you to walk it off either

If you’re stuck in bed because your period isn’t going easy on you he’ll get you what you need, but he’s still very much Marc about it

“Alright. Think of what you need because I’m not gonna walk back and forth repeatedly.”

For the most part he leaves you alone and lets you come to him since he doesn’t want to get in your space and bother you

Marc memorizes and remembers when you usually get your period and so he’s able to prepare for it so that you don’t have to worry about running out of pad/tampons or painkillers

Again he’s not going to treat you like your sick and dying but he still very much cares about you and wants to make sure you’re okay

You can twist his harm into getting you a specific snack if you do puppy dog eyes and hit him with the “pretty please”

Is he aware that you use that against him? Yes. Is he mad that it gets him every time? Yes. Is he still going to drive all the way to the store? Also yes.

Jake Lockley

“Beba, I’m in the period aisle. What pussy size you wear.” energy

You know he would. Jake’s the type of man to do that. Don’t argue with me

So all the boys know your cycle and what time frame you get your period. But Jake is able to be most on the dot

It’s kind of creepy because he knows exactly when you’ll get it but Jake’s just used to being observant and so he just recognizes it more than the rest of them

This also leads to him telling when you’re really going through it with your cramps and just trying to keep a brave face

When he sees that he just picks you up and puts you on the couch with your heating pad, pills, and a blanket

Whatever you were doing before doesn’t matter, he’ll do it. You go ahead and just lay there and relax as best you can

To all my Mexicans and hispanics reading this, if you’re cramps are bad then he puts his hand on your stomach and does “Sana sana colita de rana, si no sanas hoy, sanarás mañana” to help you feel better and also make you laugh if you know what it is

For context to any non hispanics, “Sana sana colita de rana, si no sanas hoy, sanarás mañana” is a rhyme that parents will do while rubbing where their child got hurt or feels pain

#moonknight #moon knight #moonknight x reader #moon knight x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #period comfort

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