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sometimesliterate · 17 days

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massage | dr ratio blurb

1.5k words about giving ratio a massage because you're his partner and you love him. that's it. that's the post. there's nothing else i can say about that. purely self indulgent sweetness there's nothing else for me to add. reader is gender neutral, and referred to by him and themselves as veritas' partner. i wrote wayyy too much about such a simple concept but what are you gonna do ? lock me up ? i dare you.

you knew how veritas liked to wind down for the night. after a few years being married to him, you've figured out the routine by now. you can tell he's starting to get tired when he sits his book down and nods off a little in his chair. you have to gently shake him awake, or call out to him a few times before suggesting that maybe it's time for bed, that you're the one getting sleepy, not him. and then, finally, he'll sigh and tell you that he still has so much work left for him to do, but he supposes that he should humor you for a little while.

he'll get up, and trudge his way to your shared bathroom and begin to get ready for the night. he takes off his robes and puts them up on a hanger, and taking off his gold accessories, including his adornment and chain that went around his neck, and his laurel accessory. after unbuttoning the top button of his vest, he takes off his contacts and puts on his glasses because he's as blind as a bat without them.

and of course, then you come in. you'd change out of your day out and into your pajamas, which was usually just a tank top and a pair of underwear, and then you would make your way to the bathroom where veritas was in the middle of his routine, probably brushing his teeth. you would brush out your hair and make sure that you had taken off any makeup - and probably remind him to take off his eyeliner, too. you were usually trying to get a good look at yourself while behind him in the mirror, often ducking or tilting to the side so you could see yourself.

after brushing your teeth, were were mostly done, save for whatever skincare you did at night. and then you would glance at veritas, your eyes raking over his body, and you would snake your arms around his torso, your head against his back. " you look so nice, veritas, " you would mumble against the fabric of his vest, pressing a soft kiss against his back. " this is my favorite veritas. the guy with grandpa glasses and messy hair who snores at night. "

veritas stifled a laugh, finishing brushing his teeth and rinsing out the minty foam from his mouth before turning around, his arms lazily hanging off of your shoulders. " i suppose its only natural you have your favorites, just as i have mine, " he whispered, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a half smile, the exhaustion evident on his face. " although, i must admit, it's amusing to see you try to seduce me while i'm half dressed. "

" is it working ? " you asked teasingly, pressing a kiss on his shoulder, leaning into his touch. you could see the tiredness in his eyes, the way he could hardly keep his eyes open even as he shared such an intimate moment with you.

" it's.. charming, " he admits, his voice low and even, and he couldn't stop the small sigh of contentment that spilled from his lips as you kissed him. he knew that you enjoyed these intimate moments, and he'd found himself growing rather accustomed to them too, despite his penchant for a busier, more active lifestyle. but you knew something the world didn't, you saw the warmth in his icy facade that veritas presented to the world as dr. ratio.

" how about i charm you some more, veritas ? " you asked, smiling softly at him, knowing just what he needed. this was the time for your care to shine through, something that honestly didn't happen often enough. " how about a massage, doctor ? " you purred, your eyes glimmering with a longing to please him in a way that only you could. " let me indulge you, dearest dr. ratio. " you only ever used the title dr. ratio in two situations : when you're a guest speaker in his lecture room, and when you're trying to deliberately provoke him into your little games, just so he would let you take care of him for a little while. and it was working splendidly

" you know i've never been one for massages.. " he hums, allowing his voice to trail off as he thought about your little offer. finally, he gave a little sigh, too tired to protest much. " but perhaps, just this once, i might make an exception for you. "

you smiled, taking his hand, as well as a bottle of his favorite scented lotion, leading him towards the bed. once he was laying on his stomach on the bed, his vest long gone, you really had the chance to enjoy his body in a mostly nonsexual way. you sat on his butt with your legs straddling either side of him, hovering over his vulnerable form. you squirted the lotion on your hands, warming it up between your fingers before you began to work on massaging his shoulders. veritas let out a soft grunt as your skilled fingers worked through the knots in his muscles, finding himself relaxing under your ministrations.

your touch was firm and yet gentle, knowing that you would have to be a little rough with him to get out particularly tight tension knots in his muscles. massaging the expanse of his back, you found yourself completely thrown into the little side mission of pleasing your husband that you gave yourself. " when was the last time you had a massage, dear ? " you asked gently, your fingers trailing down his spine, pressing into his skin to work through the tension. " you should let me take care of you more often. you know i enjoy helping you out, you've just gotta ask your lovely partner for help sometimes. "

" i can't recall. perhaps its been far too long, " he mused out loud, his voice deep and grumbly as he closed his eyes, his head in his arms while he enjoyed this moment with you. he knew you well enough by now to know that you weren't talking about just giving him a massage when he needed to relax. you were also extending yourself to comforting him, or supporting him through his endeavors. you'd be there to listen and offer a shoulder to lean on should he need it. and although he may not say it verbally, he couldn't help but appreciate your unwavering support more than you could ever know.

" you know i'm always here, veritas, " your voice was inexplicably warm and loving as you massaged his back, feeling him relax so much more underneath your touch, your every move melting the stress from his body. " i always will be. "

" i wouldn't expect anything less from my beautiful partner, " he chuckled softly, the sound muffled by his arms. there's a note of admiration in his voice, a rare glimpse of vulnerability revealing itself beneath the layers of his typically stoic demeanor. he couldn't help but feel a sense of calm wash over him. for all of his faults and flaws, this is where he found his solace; in the quite moments shared with you. the world fades away gradually to him, leaving only the two of you together.

in this moment, he's not dr. ratio, the scholar within the intelligentsia guild, nor the doctor working tirelessly to save his patient's lives. he's got no doctoral under his belt that taught him to how to love, and yet he found himself doing so effortlessly with you. he was simply veritas, a man basking in the comfort and love of his partner. as you work your magic on his tense muscles, he lets his thoughts drift aimlessly. veritas lies there, basking in your tender touch, and he can't help but feel a sense of contentment.

you smiled when you began to hear the soft, familiar sounds of his snoring. you stopped for a moment, looking over his features. his hair was messy and in his face, his eyes closed, and there's no negative emotions on his face. he wasn't angry, or stressed, or worried. he looked peaceful, and happy. you picked yourself up, walking over to grab a towel to clean your hands from some of the lotion. the sound of his snoring became almost like a lullaby to you, a signal that something went right, that you had done something right. you wiped off the remaining lotion from his back, putting the towel on his bedside table before leaning over to him.

you paused, taking in his features up close, before gently brushing his hair out of his face, your hand resting on the top of his head before you gently kissed his cheek. " i love you, veritas. not the man you present yourself as, but the man that you are when no one else is looking. " you knew that underneath his many layers, veritas was a man who wasn't so different from everyone else after all. he was inherently kind, although stubborn in his ways, something that you had grown to love about him.

as you settled in beside him for the night, you couldn't help but think that you were the luckiest one in the room.

#honkai star rail #hsr fanfic #dr ratio #honkai sr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr fluff #hsr x reader #veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio #veritas x reader #x reader #dr ratio x reader #fluff #drabble #blurb #one shot #hsr ratio #honkai star rail imagine #imagines

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bagopucks · 1 year

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T. Zegras - Disheveled Duckling

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Trevor Zegras x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 4.2k

Warning(s): Insecurities, and a tiny tiff

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“Whose decision was it to make Zegras the cover of NHL 23?”

“Tried and failed to make the new face of the league Trevor Zegras.”

“What an absolute joke.”

“Too flashy. Not enough skill.”

“Good thing the Ducks hired another useless player. I was afraid they might actually make the playoffs.”

“Wonder if he has to hold onto sh** when the wind blows”

“His girlfriend need a man’s man?”

“Holy shit!” I slammed the door to the house I’d slowly grown to love. Trevor and Jamie’s.

Jamie’s head shot up from the couch, startled and frightened by both my abrupt arrival and my anger.

“You good?” I heard him chuckle. No doubt nervous. I took my shoes off, locked the door, and turned to look at my boyfriend’s best friend. Silence filled the air around us. Jamie’s nervous smile immediately disappeared.

“It’s impossible.” My shirt was dripping with water, as were my hands. “And you didn’t even come outside to help!”

“Trevor’s car is really that unclean-able?”

“It’s yours! It’s your Jamie! What are you driving through?” His cheeks turned red. Trevor was out for a hockey game, but when I informed him that my work place was trying to schedule a late night meeting, and we hadn’t known how long Jamie was going to be at the doctors office, Trevor said he’d simply take an Uber. I felt bad when Jamie came home five minutes after Trevor had left. So I decided to go out and wash their cars for them. It was a nice day anyway, a little outdoor time hadn’t hurt.

“I don’t know?” I had managed to get Trevor’s car practically spotless before I had waxed it. But Jamie’s was something else. It had tiny asphalt pieces all over. Which was usual on a car, but I couldn’t scrape them away without chipping paint, and they wouldn’t just wipe away either.

The sun had begun setting mere minutes ago. I had given up on Jamie’s car. I was tired, I’d missed more of the hockey game than I wanted to, and now I was simply angry.

“You’re lucky I have a moral compass that says I shouldn’t hit injured people.” I grumbled as I left the living room, walking through the house to find mine and Trevor’s bedroom. I needed a change of clothes. Something comfortable.

I had been getting notifications for a while on my NHL app. I had only stopped to look at a few, but from what I’d seen, the Ducks were losing. Another reason to be stressed. Another reason to worry about my boyfriend.

I met Trevor when he played for the USA hockey team. We just happened to be in the same town and in the same pastry shop the night it happened. He was trying to order a bear claw, and I had let out a rather exaggerated sigh over the fact that it was the last one. We shared it over two cups of iced coffee.

After that, we became friends and remained so for a long time. The year he got drafted into the NHL, it seemed he’d been on enough of an adrenaline rush to ask me out. I said yes. He pursued his dreams while I pursued my own. Our paths of life ran parallel, but close enough to hold hands along our walks.

I’d been around long enough to see Trevor make records in USA hockey, get drafted, play in the AHL, and eventually join the league permanently. I’d also seen the rise and fall of his mentality as those years went by as well.

I couldn’t pinpoint when it truly started, but I would certainly say when the media began pushing to make him the new face of the league. That was when Trevor began to feel the anxiety.

To everybody else, he loved it. To everybody else, he ate up every second of attention he got. He loved the videos online, the commercials, the sponsorships and free stuff. And part of that was true. Trevor did love all of those things.

But people put so much pressure on you when they expect you to be the poster child of anything. It can change people. Hell, Sidney Crosby’s first year in the NHL was spent screaming at any ref he could over a call he didn’t like. Getting misconducts and penalties he ought not to. Good men can fall long ways under immense pressure. But when the spotlight is on you, all people want is to see you fall and fail. People want to see the hero bend and bend and eventually break.

Trevor loved the attention, but he despised the hate. He didn’t like opening his sports news apps to find articles on himself, and not having the impulse control to not read them. He hated posting something on Instagram, and going back to check a comment from a friend, only to find hate surrounding it. He hated hearing people he looked up to all his life’s putting him down left and right. He hated being misunderstood, but not given the platform to express his grievances. He had no right to discuss his feelings. Nobody would listen.

Perhaps that had been what made him feel like he couldn’t come to me. What made him pull away when I could tell he was tense and disappointed. It took me forever to really understand why he would come home looking so defeated. Looking like a parent who should have expected better from their kid. It took me forever to realize how much Trevor hated himself.

I blamed it on the publicity over and over again. They built him up so much, just to tear him back down. And I knew with each loss, there was a new article. A new post. A new video. A new comment.

My hopes were whisked away when I opened the NHL app to see the score. 5-1. Not a good look for the Ducks. Then of course, upon further inspection, opening the live summary of the game, I realized Trevor had his own ten minute misconduct.

I was never happy that he fought. That he got in people’s faces and picked fights with guys who could have pinned him down to the ice in one shove. But I understood somewhat. Trevor was just trying to look out for himself. Trying in his own short tempered way to be heard in a league that would not listen to him. But we both found through time that nobody was on his side other than his team and few friends.

“Jamie!” I tossed my phone down onto the bed as I grabbed a spare shirt and a pair of shorts. I quickly changed, the lack of response leading me to assume Jamie was ignoring me. I rolled my eyes as I walked back down the hall, stopping once I was in the living area and over the couch.

Not ignoring, somehow asleep. I worried sometimes about him and his pain medication. He was responsible with it, but I still worried. I gently nudged him. Easy to wake, per usual. And he couldn’t have been out that long.

I nudged Jamie again, watching his eyes flutter open. I gestured for him to move, and he quickly cleared a space for me on the edge of the couch. I sat and took the tv remote, turning the screen on.

“Have you had the game on at all?”

“No.. it’s been.. kinda- stressing me out.” I nodded.

“Trevor got into another fight.” Jamie wasn’t surprised. But he knew as well as I did that Trevor was struggling. On his own little broken sailboat, refusing help because he didn’t want anybody else to be caught up in his storm.

“It should be over by now.” Jamie shifted and sat up, leaning against the arm rest of the couch.

I found the channel and flipped it on. Sure enough, Jamie had been correct. I crossed one of my legs over the other, eyeing up the tv in search of my boyfriend. When I couldn’t find him, I assumed they had kicked him out of the entire arena for the last ten minutes of the game. Banished to the locker room.

I used to love games that took place in the middle of the day. Trevor would come home and we’d have dinner together. Then we’d curl up in bed and whisper for hours until we fell asleep. Now, games in the middle of the day meant there was extra time to avoid aggravating Trevor.

We sat in silence until the goal horn sounded, frustrated Ducks players exiting the ice. It was a waiting game now. One Jamie and I were happy to do together, so neither had to worry about Trevor alone.

“He’ll probably be fine.” Jamie broke the silence with a statement we both knew to be false.

“He hasn’t been fine.” I knew that in my mind, but my heart broke at the first confession of the fact. Trevor had been a wreck of emotions and I hadn’t been able to fix even one of his problems.

And he hid it all so well underneath that big smile. And all those jokes.

Jamie and I returned to silence not long after, but when we caught the headlights through the window, he had been the first to get up to leave.

“You should handle this one.. right?” I gave a nod in approval to his suggestion.

“I’ve got him.”

Jamie retreated to his room after that. Always only one call away if Trevor or I ever needed him. I was supposed to be one call away for Trevor too. Why didn’t he ever dial my number?

I waited for what felt like hours for Trevor to come inside. He never did. So I decided to see what was going on. I unlocked and opened the front door, surprised by the sight of Getzlaf’s car in the driveway. I could just barely make out the silhouette of two figures, one pointing at the other in a manner that looked tense.

I leaned in the doorway, and waited patiently before I was spotted. Getzlaf gestured, and Trevor climbed out of the car. He grabbed his gear from the back, and I heard his voice shout something to his old captain before making his way up the short drive to the door. I wasn’t sure what to say, so instead I stood there, staring at Trevor as his eyes met mine. He looked like he was waiting for something.

“Can I come in?” I was surprised by Trevor’s tone. Playful and lighthearted. I looked skeptical, but I nodded and stepped aside nonetheless.

“I was thinking we could do dinner? I miss that. Maybe- we could try.. like steaks? I know Jamie just got a pack the other day.” Trevor’s always been talkative, but this time it feels off. There was a sound in his voice I didn’t know how to place.

“Trevor I can’t cook steaks.”

“Let me do it.” I stared at him as he shut the door. He hated cooking.

“Come on! It’ll be fun! Let me take care of you.” I shrugged. What’s the worst that could happen?

Trevor insisted I sit at the table while he did his thing. I was hesitant, but I allowed him space nonetheless. Trevor tried to talk about the game a bit, but the bitter laugh that occasionally fell from his lips, and the sad sound in his voice usually caused him to stop before he got into any good details. He often stopped his own comments with something like, “guess it doesn’t matter anyway.” And the repetition of the phrase made me feel like it was a media interview. Like he was repeating and repeating just to get me to go away and stop asking questions. I hadn’t asked any in the first place. That’s what he was hesitant about.

“And the misconduct?” I hoped to look disinterested. Like it didn’t bother me, so I looked down at my phone. Trevor never turned to look at me.

“It was bullshit.” I glanced up at him. His shoulders rose slightly.

“What was it on?”

“You didn’t watch?” Trevor turned to look at me, and I don’t know why, but this time he seemed upset. I had missed games of his before… but this was the first in a long time.

“I was a little busy.” I smiled at him, hopeful to keep the clean car a secret until he could see it in the morning.

“No that’s cool..” he shrugged it off and turned back to the stove. It was definitely not cool, not to him, but he wanted to move on. So we moved on.

I listened to Trevor occasionally mumble under his breath about whatever he was making, the sweet smell of cooked meat filling the kitchen along with the sound of the sizzle of two steaks on the pan. I was certain I hadn’t missed out on Trevor learning how to cook.

Once they were finished, my boyfriend beckoned me over, and I was quick to join his side. He cut a piece and I waited for it to cool off before biting the tender piece of meat off the knife he held. At first it was perfect. Then it was oddly sweet. I made a face. Trevor noticed.

“What’s wrong with it?”

My eyes searched the various items and ingredients strewn across the counter. When I noticed it, I giggled.

“Trevor,” I nodded my head toward the container I used for sugar. I never labeled it because I knew what it was, and the boys didn’t use the big box of sugar I had set aside for baking.

“That’s sugar.” His face fell for a split second. Then he started to laugh. I thought about joining him before it all just felt off. Trevor’s eyes quickly adopted a glazed over look, his smile falling into a frown as the laughter ceased and an overwhelming look of grief overcame his features.

Trevor shook his head before turning the stovetop off. I reached for him while he reached for his keys in his pocket.

“Where do you wanna eat?”

“Baby no. We’ll fix this.”

“I don’t want to. Where do you want to eat?”

“Trevor.”

“I said I don’t want to!”

We didn’t get into fights much. We didn’t like to, but I couldn’t keep disregarding his feelings for his comfort. Something had to give.

“I love you, but you’re gonna sit your ass down and talk to me Trevor.”

“Fuck this.” He shook his head, tossing his keys onto the counter and turning to walk away.

“Trevor!” I snapped and followed him. “I am so sick of seeing you so- so sad! You have to talk to me!”

“I don’t!”

“Then who are you going to talk to? Huh?” Because I knew he was horrible at opening up.

“I don’t know! Nobody fucking listens!” I followed him all the way into our room, pushing the door shut behind myself.

“I’m listening!” I was desperate. “Trevor, I’m right. Here.” He turned to look at me. His anger eased into a blank stare, and it seemed my offer brought everything crashing down at once.

We stared each other down. Both waiting for the other to give up or make some kind of move.

“I’m so tired.” Trevor’s voice quivered, his lips pulling into a frown I hated to see. His eyes fell to the floor.

“Everybody’s so…” he drew in a breath. “Too much- it’s all too much.” Trevor sat down on the side of our bed, his head fell into his hands. “They hate me.”

There was a little kid in there. Devastated. Heartbroken that his heroes wanted him gone. That kids parents didn’t deem him a good role model. That he was ruining his own track record by trying to stay afloat. Trying to survive when nobody respected him. When refs pushed him around and legends dragged his name through the mud. Trevor just wanted to live his dream. He had fun before all the publicity. He didn’t need it, but it was forced on him.

“Nobody hates you.” I slowly made my way over, raking my hands through his hair. Trevor lifted his head to look at me, his brow furrowed and his cheeks red.

“Everybody does! I don’t want to be the guy everybody hates!” Trevor raised his voice, but I couldn’t be bothered to be upset. This was only the tip of the iceberg.

“They liked me..” his voice dropped to a mere whisper. My brow furrowed as I rested my hands on his cheeks, prepared to wipe tears as they began to fall.

“Huh?” I met his volume, Trevor closed his eyes tightly, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“They liked me.. and I ruined it.” Sure, he hadn’t been perfect, but even the aggressive egotistical asshole players had fans. This wasn’t Trevor’s doing. This was the media realizing they failed and then deciding to spin his story. To make him a villain.

“It’s all my fault.” His words were interrupted by a broken gasp, I guided his head to lean against my stomach, pushing a sigh past my lips as I tried not to get too emotional.

“Trevor, this is not your fault.” I ran one hand through his hair while the other held his head.

“I just can’t- fuck!” His voice was muffled in my shirt. “I don’t want this.” I glanced down at him again, my hands travelled to his jaw to move his head from my body.

Trevor’s eyes met my own. So sad. So lost. So broken.

“I don’t want hockey if it comes with all this shit.” He tried to bury his head back against my body, but I held his jaw tightly.

“Trevor.” I carefully moved forward, resting my legs on the bed on either side of his own. I sat on his thighs and pulled Trevor in for a tight hug. His hands gripped the sides of my shirt.

“You just have to be patient. They’re gonna test you.” I whispered against his ear as his head buried in the crook of my neck.

“They test me every day.” I sighed. I didn’t know how to help. “I mess everything up.. they don’t want me. They want somebody who can actually get shit done. They want somebody bigger and faster.. and stronger. They want what I’m not.”

I rubbed at his back with one of my hands.

“Trevor, nobody gives a shit about your weight.” I had never heard a single thing on it before. Sure, maybe his mom made a comment or two about how skinny he was, but it was more so commentary when she was trying to feed him. It never had anything to do with his job.

“Yes they do.” He was insistent. I knew this was a projection. Him trying to find a reason to blame himself for something he couldn’t help. Not everybody gained muscle easily. It wasn’t a bad thing. But to him it was. To him, it was embarrassing.

“I think you look great already. If you get too big, then you can’t lay on top of me any more.”

“That’s not the point.” My joke crash landed. It only seemed to frustrate Trevor more. “People just.. they say shit.” I rested one of my hands on Trevor’s forearm while I worked the other through his hair.

“Like what?”

“That I can’t keep up.. that I’m too scrawny. I need to ‘build up.’ But I can’t! I try and I can’t! I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” He sounded desperate. Desperate for answers I didn’t have.

“It’s genetics Trev. It’s not something you can help.” I knew he tried a million different things. Nothing ever worked. And I knew how hopeless he could get when he’d go to take a peek in the bathroom mirror, and see absolutely no progress. Trevor never had an issue with his body until people started saying things about it.

He’d always wanted to get bigger, but he was patient before. He was willing to really take his time. Now one comment could leave him in the gym for more hours on end than he ought to be in there for. One chirp left him laid down next to me in bed with a shirt on and a pair of pants, curled in on himself like it would somehow make him and his insecurities any less noticeable.

“Or maybe I just shouldn’t be playing hockey. Maybe I’m just not cut out for it.” His sadness had shifted into acceptance. Like he was ready to give up.

“They drafted you Trevor. People talked about you forever. People were elated to have you in the league.”

“Yeah. Were.“

“They still are.” I sighed. “So you have an attitude? They’ll get over it. You know how many people have said they love you? They love your personality, and your talent? You’re a new version of the game. A new type of style everybody is going to know you for.” I moved my hand from Trevor’s hair. I gently traced his jawline with my fingers, holding my breath at the sight of my disheveled duckling.

“What if it never gets better?” Trevor had thought about this more than I realized. I shook my head.

“It will. There’ll be some new hotshot they’ll idolize and attack. Some new player who takes a downward spiral that they decide to torture. This won’t be you forever.. you just have to stay strong while it happens. Okay?”

“I just wanted to play hockey..” exhaustion was evident in his tone. I allowed Trevor to rest his head on my shoulder again, his breaths were heavy from trying to hold back the tears that hadn’t fallen.

“It’ll all work itself out, Trev.” My voice lowered to a whisper. “They did the same thing to Jack.. they did the same thing to Crosby. You just have to handle it better.. that’s all. You know I love you, I just think they get under your skin too easy.”

“I know.” Trevor sighed.

“You have to remember to calm down sometimes. Nobody’s ever going to listen if all you do is yell and fight.”

“That’s what Getz said.” I had been curious, but at no point did I consider asking what Getzlaf had said to Trevor. It hadn’t been my place. But I was happy Trevor told me nonetheless. It was reassuring to know somebody else was telling him the same things.

“You need a stress ball out there or something.” I joked softly, running my hand through Trevor’s hair one last time before I rested my hands on his shoulders, pushing him back so I could see him.

Trevor mustered a sad smile at my words.

“Maybe you just need to chew on your glove like Jack.” I added, trying to go two for two. It seemed that comment earned a giggle from him.

“Or reach out and talk to him.” My tone took up a more serious sound. Trevor pursed his lips and nodded. “You guys don’t talk as much as you should. He probably gets jealous of Jamie.”

I went three for three the second I noticed Trevor’s smile widen, his eyes squinting as well when he laughed.

Silence enveloped our own little world. I tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear. Trevor seemed to finally relax.

“We’re gonna be okay,” I whispered as I gently placed my hands on his chest. Trevor picked up the cue to lay back as I propped myself up over him.

“And I love you.” I added softly, pressing a kiss to his collar. “And Jamie loves you,” Trevor smiled again. “And your mom, and your siblings, and your dad. And all of your friends all scattered about.” I climbed off of Trevor and slipped off the bed. He looked confused before sitting up to look at me, eventually standing as well.

“You don’t have to be perfect.” He stepped closer, resting his hands on my sides as my own slipped beneath his shirt to hold his hips. “Nobody needs you to become a body builder.” I continued. Trevor nodded slowly. “And nobody needs you to lose that attitude.” I wrapped my arms around his body beneath his shirt, gently scratching his back. His weakness. He loved back scratches. “Just keep being the Trevor I know and love. Just be yourself, okay? Everything comes after that.”

And everything did come after that. I didn’t want Trevor to lose himself or his confidence because of others.

After I got him settled, Trevor and I had cleaned the mess in the kitchen and I took him out for a quick dinner. We ate on some curbside, talking and laughing over nonsense. When we did get home, I had checked up on Jamie, prepared to ask if he was hungry before I found he’d been asleep. After that, I slipped back into our room and got settled in bed with him, flipping through streaming services until we found something to fall asleep to.

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#nhl imagine #trevor zegras #nhl x reader #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine

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on-leatheredwings · 12 days

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i can see yj!dick leaning towards the possessive aspect of being a yandere. not to say he isn’t violent… he’d print out photos of guys you talk to, hang them on a wall, and throw darts at them. maaaybe he’s a bit insecure in your relationship if you meet in the early seasons and he’s cocky and show-offish to compensate for his doubt. later though?? that boy knows you like him (who wouldn’t? he likes you more, though.) you know how he leaves the team behind a lot/goes off on his own? i feel like if you were part of the team and went on missions with them he’d only look back to make sure you were with him (still runs off when he sees you’re okay and aware, but he’s keeping an eye on you. covertly.) if you tell him that the stealthy laugh he does makes you feel safe/reassured, he definitely does it a lot more. if you’re less on the field and have a more passive position, like a doctor, he makes it a habit to get hurt more often. comes to you for the SMALLEST injuries so you can baby him. you tell him to gtfo (no you don’t cuz who could say no to him!!) he gets a scrape and comes crying to you about it he’s so silly… not sure what would happen with his canon relationships. maybe he’d still flirt and pursue relationships, but it’s definitely less genuine and more of a fill in type situation. gets broken up with once his partners realize they deserve better than someone who thinks of them as a rebound/stand-in (my true biases are showing maybe. cough zatanna cough barbara) less than a minor inconvenience to him but you better believe he runs to you every breakup, getting you to comfort him. (you turn your back for a second and his pout turns into the most sly grin ever. you turn back around and his eyes are full of unshed tears.) side note i don’t think he’s too hard to fluster early on. likes it when you get bold/assertive because he’s usually the one dropping hints lmfao. you’re still oblivious bless your heart but he’s making progress maybe? if you DO make the first move he’s speechless. (whelmed even!) not literally (unfortunately) because he never shuts up but he will be processing that for a while. side side note if you DO get with someone (cause i do usually imagine him with a reader that isn’t looking for a relationship) he’s doing background checks daily. i ALSO like to think that you know how crazy he is (not fully. but you’ve seen under his mask a few times.) besides, with yandere!dick i like to think that he eventually gets comfortable/lets you in enough to give you occasional glimpses of his lunacy (if you’re desensitized enough). if your living in gotham, you’re probably at least a little unfazed. plus, he knows how to make you agree with his views anyway. who cares if he rearranged that guys face! you didn’t see the way he was looking at you, really, it was for your own safety. don’t you trust him? he’s your robin, after all.

sorry for the paragraphs. he’s not even my favorite 😭

oh god this was a love letter to mine own heart i agree 10000%

he’d print out photos of guys you talk to, hang them on a wall, and throw darts at them.

hilarious imagery and so fucking in character help 😭

maybe he’d still flirt and pursue relationships, but it’s definitely less genuine and more of a fill in type situation. gets broken up with once his partners realize they deserve better than someone who thinks of them as a rebound/stand-in (my true biases are showing maybe. cough zatanna cough barbara)

YES!!!!! YES!!! i know some ppl may not like it but i think dick is most likely (out of the bat boys) to date around even after meeting you, but it's so empty hearted on his end

i like to think that he eventually gets comfortable/lets you in enough to give you occasional glimpses of his lunacy (if you’re desensitized enough).

HEHE i like the idea of that... i think yj!dick is def self-aware enough to kind of indulge in the darker parts of himself. as opposed to dick in other media, where it seems he has more restraint, imo. those parts still exist but he just chooses not to think about it that hard i think.

i kinda love the idea of reader seeing dick's more yandere tendencies and just writing them off like "oh~ he's just a little quirky, aren't we all!" they very much would just. either let themselves be convinced by dick or straight up gaslight themselves into doubting the depth of dick's darker side.

#ardennes' inbox #yandere batfam #if dick's not even your fave #id love to see how much you write for someone who is LMFAO #YOURE SOOOO TRUE IN EVERYTHING THO

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beatrixstonehill2 · 6 months

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"Of course my bf uploaded this to my Instagram.... Sorry guys, he grabbed my phone and started filming me in the tub. I look kinda cute, though.... And I know ya'll probably mirrored this like crazy, so what's the point in deleting it? So, yeah.... my bf definitely loves torturing me. He's a sweet guy but in the three months we've been dating he just takes every opportunity to humiliate me. He pretends to be my brother and calls me his 'baby sister' when we make out in public. He sneaks up on me when I do my errands and pulls off my shirt, sometimes running away with it, leaving me topless. Sometimes while we go out to eat he asks the staff inappropriate questions like if they think I should get a breast reduction, and how small I should go...

Well, that was foreshadowing. He demanded to sit in with me during a doctor's visit, and I told him none of his usual BS. Since he was my bf, the doctor pretty much just directed his questions at him, almost ignoring me.... He, of course, told the doctor I have bad back pain and am extremely embarrassed to have such 'oversized' breasts. I was so stunned I could hardly talk, and when I tried the doctor would talk over me and tell me it's OK to be embarrassed.... Sure enough, without ever saying a thing, my bf requested I get a breast reduction. He asked the doctor 'how small can I go'. The doctor said he knows a surgeon he can refer us to that specializes in making girls with oversized breasts like mine as small as can be, because it's so common that our boyfriends or parents request we go flat chested.

The second we got in the car he burst out laughing. I folded my arms, kind of..... and he only found it funny. He said I'm lucky he didn't suggest I wanted something way worse, like Femruptarin, or that I fantasized about being a quad amputee, or something really messed up. He did smile naughtily and said he had a few ideas now, though.... So, maybe a small glimpse into the torment I'll be posting about in a year? Or a few months, knowing this guy.....

So, he took me to this nice hotel to unwind before my surgery tomorrow. It sucks cause he loves my breasts, or at least humiliating me about how big they are. It's going to be so weird losing them and being flat again. I guess I won't miss all the guys groping me and playing with them constantly. Well, I might miss it a bit..... Of course I end up with a guy who likes seeing me suffer. Not a huge deal I guess, as long as he's having fun with me I'll go along with whatever he wants, like a good girlfriend, no matter how demeaning it is. I'm just such a little people pleaser..... Oh well, goodbye, titties. Can't wait to see what my bf will have me do next. ❤️"

#breast reduction kink #breast shrinking kink #body modification kink

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storiesbyjes2g · 1 month

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3.104 Concerns

I woke up thinking about how bummed Sophia was about not being able to go to the beach in Tartosa. I mean, I was too, but it seemed to hit her especially hard. No one else I knew loved the water more than her—not even Yasmine, who declared herself a "water baby." I got a brilliant idea in the shower that was sure to make Sophia happy and presented it to her at breakfast.

"Let's go to the lake in San Sequoia. We can invite my dad and Alessia and make a family day of it."

Her eyes were as bright as Winterfest lights, and I gave myself a pat on the back.

"Yeeees, that's a great idea! Wait, your sister is still here?"

"Yeah. Apparently she's not going back. She wasn't as happy over there as she thought she'd be." I snorted at a new thought. "Plus, she probably met some loser here."

"Luca!"

"What? She's not exactly in the market for quality men right now."

"Still. You haven't met him yet and already labeled him a loser. It isn't nice."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Stop!"

I chuckled and reached for the phone to inform Dad about my plan, but he advised against it. A thunderstorm plagued the area, so once again, the weather dashed our beach plans. But Dad countered and suggested a family movie day instead, so we all braved the storm and headed to Anchorpoint Wharf.

I thought the movie was funny, but Sophia said it bored her, which surprised me, seeing as she was the token goofball of the two of us.

After the movie, we hung out at Dad's house for a bit. Alessia caught us up in her life, and just as I suspected, she had met someone; I knew her so well. Apparently, they met at our party. They were at the bar and noticed they were both doing the exact same thing. She had this weird ritual she did in restaurants where she wiped down glasses, utensils, plates, and whatever her mouth or food touched. He was doing it too, and they locked eyes. The way she talked about this dude was different. Usually, she didn't care to get to know the poor fellas on this roster, and we never got any details about them. But her tone was so giddy it intrigued me. Could he be the one to break down her wall? I knew my dad hoped so. He really wanted to walk her down the aisle.

I realized we hadn't heard from Sophia in a while, so I turned around to check on her. She had droopy eyes and a frown, and everything inside me wanted to panic. But she wouldn't want me to do that in front of them. When I found an appropriate place to make our exit, I took it and ushered her and the dogs back home. Once we made it inside, we settled in the office to talk. It seemed like all our important talks occurred in there recently.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Are you feeling alright? What can I do??"

She shifted in her seat and looked everywhere except in my eyes, alarming me even more.

"I, umm... I'm concerned."

"About Alessia?"

"About getting pregnant."

My throat tightened, and I swallowed a few times to keep it open.

"Oh..."

Her confession lingered in the air like steam after a shower, and I wasn't sure what to say or do.

"I've taken a pregnancy test every day since the engagement," she said, still not making eye contact with me. "I know these things take time, but... It should have happened by now! My birthday is way too close, Luca. I'm running out of time."

I was in such a weird spot. I wanted to hold her and tell her to keep the faith, but this was bad news for me, too. She wasn't the only one looking forward to bringing a baby into the world. But it was her body going through that, not mine. And as much as it hurt to hear that, I still had a level of detachment she didn't have.

"Is there something we can do?" I asked. "I mean...is there...a test or something for that?"

Finally, she looked at me as if awakening from a trance.

"Yeah, actually. There is." She shook away those sad feelings and sprang into action. "I'll make an appointment right now. I guess I've been too flustered to think straight. I could have done this days ago."

She called her doctor and scheduled an appointment for the next afternoon. When she hung up, I finally embraced her like I wanted to and told her everything would be okay. I didn't know how true that was, but I had to believe it for the both of us.

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #sophia aguilar #tw: infertility

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badbf-cb · 3 months

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We’re Back…

“Like hell I’m just going to sit around and let you handle it,” Minji sneered at Jaebeom across the table. Her usual sweet and comforting voice dripped with malice. She threw a crumpled note to her friend and leaned on his desk. “You didn’t handle it then! I can’t this happen again. Not with her.”

Tag Minzy- Youre it.

Im coming for what’s mine -HJ

Jaebeom couldn’t be upset with her. For months she had been getting letters from Hanjae, her living nightmare. JB held his hand to steady Wonho from approaching the angry woman. “I get you’re mad but Min… You have to let me do this. I know he’s working with Choi now. He reached out to my father. We just need-”

Her frustrated cry cut off the older man. “Need to what? He humiliated you last time! Your brother got shot! Hongjoong almost lost his eye! Fuck, Jaebeom- Taeyong almost died on the kitchen table.” She pointed an accusatory finger at each man in the room. “Did you forget what happened to Lisa?” Her eyes searched the room but felt relief knowing her young friend wasn’t around for this meeting.

“ENOUGH!” JB’s voice boomed through the room. Everyone but Minji took a step back and recoiled. “Everyone out, except you, Dr. Gong.” One by one they all left the two alone.

Even after an hour of being locked up alone and Changkyun’s best efforts to listen at the door… No one knew what happened behind the door. All they can agree on is a few windows rattled when Mingi left the office, slamming the door behind her.

Minji signed a note and folded it quickly before tucking inside Yoona’s little back pack. “Ok, baby. Be good for Auntie Em ok? I promise I’ll see you soon.” She stole a kiss from the little girl as Chanyeol carried her off. Having purposely let the girl skip nap time, Minji knew that she would be sleeping before she arrived. “Bye baby,” she whispered, swiping her tears away.

One down… two to go. With Yoona away, she needed to get the others out of the house. She knew that she couldn’t keep Lisa out of this but at least Mina and Sunmi could be sent out… with a little persuasion.

“I’m not playing doctor with anyone,” Sunmi protested as she looked through the ‘care package’ Mina held. “I don’t care how cute they are!”

Mina laughed and pulled her friend from the house. “Stop! I know you missed him. Maybe he missed us… or you.” She swung the bag to her friend and grabbed the tray of cookies and brownies, making sure to grab the one marked ‘For Jake’. “Min, are you sure you can’t come?”

“No, sorry,” Minji kept the answer short. “They’ve been through a lot and just need an extra hand. Since Lisa has to go… just make sure Kyun is ok while she’s gone. Tell the boys I send my love.” She kissed her friend on the cheek and sent them on their way.

“What do you mean he isn’t here?” Jaebeom asked looking for Chanyeol. “Where is he?” He didn’t need to ask more when he saw the satisfied look Minji had on her face. “Seriously? You did this didn’t you?” His question only answered with a shrug.

“Is this going to take long? I have more important things to do,” Lisa whined and grabbed Jungkook as she walked from the house and tothe third of the four identical waiting cars.

Wonho sighed heavily as he tried to usher Changkyun out. “Your dad doesn’t pay me to babysit you. Get the fuck out of here,” he barked at the middle sibling. The second car waiting for them.

To everyone’s surprise, Hanse and Gyu were the most cooperative pair. It was almost unsettling. The last car designated for them.

“I’ll be waiting. We need to make this as smooth as possible. I can’t miss this,” Hongjoong warns JB. He kisses Minji on the cheek and leans against the first car patiently.

JB looked around the oddly empty house and faced Minji. “You don’t trust me? Touché. Taeyong will be here soon… you can’t stop that. Hyunjin will stay with you until we get back since you won’t listen to me.”

“I’m counting on it. I just need to see where his loyalty lies. Good luck JB,” Minji hugs him tightly. “It’s been an honor knowing you as a friend and boss.”

“I don’t know what you’re doing Minji… Just be careful. You’re playing with fire and we both know this isn’t going to end well,” JB said from the door. He wasn’t able to look back at his friend.

Minji stood outside with Hyunjin and watched the four cars leave with her friends. She looked up and down the street for the pair of lights that brought Taeyong with them. “Game on,” she whispered as the crumpled note fell from her hands.

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imtryingmybeskar · 1 year

Text

Come Home Chapter Eighteen

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Word count: 5,436

The aftermath of the argument. Can Joel and reader get back to the way things used to be?

Come Home

Chapter Eighteen - Want

Six days.

Six fucking days you’d been in this fucking clinic and you were just about ready to climb the walls.

On the second night you had settled into sleep with vague hopes that you would be able to get out of here the following morning, but in the early hours had experienced an especially heinous nightmare and Doctor Graham had been unable to get to you before you wrenched yourself bolt upright, sweating and wheezing. The movement had popped some stitches and caused your wounds to start bleeding again, and her hands had been deft and gentle as she had cleaned and redressed them by the light of one of the powerful lamps in the room.

“Sorry, but you’re going to have to stay a little longer,” she had said apologetically, and you cursed your mind and the past for the thousandth time. “And…well, I’m no psychotherapist but doctor patient confidentiality is still extremely important to me and if you want to talk-“

“No!” you had exclaimed, and then “No,” more softly as you realised how harsh you had sounded. “No thank you. I…I can’t do that.”

She had looked at you with a mixture of pity and exasperation.

“I’m not going to push you,” she had said gently “But I really think you should consider talking to someone. Whatever happened…reliving it by yourself night after night isn’t good for you. If not me, then a friend perhaps.”

“Maybe,” you replied, knowing full well you were never going to do that. You wouldn’t burden Ellie with that shit, had no idea where you and Joel were in relation to each other right now and the only other person you could possibly think of talking to was Vanessa. You were sure she would listen, might even understand. But the thought of discussing it with anyone gripped your heart with icy fear that was almost worse than the memories themselves. No, you had survived this long without having to articulate it, without having to force those horrific words past your lips. You could survive a while longer, and hopefully forever.

While Ellie came to see you the next day, Joel did not and you couldn’t help but feel a sinking disappointment at that, though you don’t ask her to explain his whereabouts. You had hoped that the previous night’s laughter would have perhaps helped put to rest the animosity between you, but you supposed that the argument between you was the foremost thing in his mind after all, given his absence. In fact you don’t see him at all over the next few days, though you do have other visitors. Maria comes one afternoon, her face drawn and solemn as she sees you laid up.

"You doin' okay?" she asks in her usual forthright manner as she sits on the chair next to your bed.

"I'll be fine," you assure her. "Just a stupid accident. I got lucky really."

"You did," she nods. "Tommy sends his best. He's still finishing up at the dam. He also-." She breaks off and pauses, and you witness an expression you have never seen on her face before - embarrassment. "He also wanted me to apologise. For his brother's behaviour." Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline in surprise at this, but she continues before you can speak. "We've all noticed that Joel's been a little...on edge recently. And that you two haven't been quite as close as you usually are. Tommy's tried to speak to him about it. Joel refused. But Tommy did say that given he's a stubborn, grumpy fucker he suspects that whatever has happened is a him problem not a you problem. His words, not mine," she adds, holding her hands up as if absolving herself of liability.

You look away, slightly embarrassed yourself that the rift between you and Joel seems to be the subject of town gossip, though you hadn't really expected otherwise.

"Well...I'm not sure what his problem is either, honestly," you confess. "Thank you for relaying the message, but if anyone is going to apologise for Joel's behaviour, it better be Joel. And given that he's a stubborn, grumpy fucker..." You allow the sentence to trail away, a wry smile curving your lips and then attempt a small, one shouldered shrug. "The important thing is that everyone's alive and everyone came back. I'm just focusing on getting out of here right now."

"Cheers to that," Maria says fervently, tapping her water bottle lightly against yours where it rested on your nightstand.

Vanessa, Chloe, Mark and Anna come to see you another afternoon, the latter solemnly clutching the little toy rabbit you had given to her a few months previously. They assault you with a barrage of well-meaning questions – How do you feel? When can you go home? Who else has come to see you? – and they offer sincere and strenuous gratitude, both that you and Ellie came back and that you had brought the deer with you.

“Guess I’ll have to find a new scouting partner for now,” says Vanessa, the joviality in her voice not quite masking the upset she clearly feels at seeing you like this.

“I’ll be back out with you in no time, you’ll see,” you reassure her. “Though until then, I’ll have to find another way to keep busy.”

“You just rest up,” Vanessa insists sternly. “Plenty of time to go out and get your ass kicked again once you’ve healed!”

After each visitor leaves you feel truly exhausted, but in a more peaceful way than before somehow. You had forgotten what it was like to have people who were worried for your wellbeing. Chris’s concern for you had been genuine of course, but because there was only the two of you it had been rooted in a desire to survive as much as anything else. These people wanted you to get well for no other reason than they enjoyed having you in their lives, and it was a truly beautiful feeling.

The way you and Joel had left things was playing on your mind a lot, and you weren’t sure where you stood with him right now. Despite the hurtful and angry things you had said to each other, he had clearly been fretful about you and the glimpse of the Joel of old had been a comfort to your heart. You hope the situation wouldn’t go back to how it had been for the past few weeks, and even briefly consider if the injury was worth it just for that potential outcome before a lance of electric pain jolts through your arm and shoulder as you try to settle yourself more comfortably, and you decide it probably isn't.

Each morning when you awake aches and pains plague you, particularly your trapezius and the upper part of your deltoid which are agonising. Dr Graham says this is a good thing, that it means you’re starting to heal and that the possibility of nerve damage is growing more remote. While that all sounds great, you disagree with her assessment of “good”. Your muscles feel like they’re constantly cramping up and your shoulder is uncomfortably warm, though you are reassured that there is no sign of infection and that the antibiotics you have been given are doing their job. But you even start to get more accustomed to these odd and uncomfortable sensations after a few days and begin asking her again about when you can leave. She tries to persuade you to stay a while longer, but you insist you will be able to rest more effectively in your own house and eventually, after almost a week, she reluctantly acquiesces.

“I will be coming to check on you every day, and you’ll need to come back into the clinic a few times a week for check-ups and physio,” she informs you in no uncertain terms as she binds you up in a shoulder sling, and you accept that as the necessary price for your freedom.

Just as you’re packing up the meagre collection of books, clothes and toiletries that you have accumulated from your visitors during your stay, Joel enters the room. He still looks exhausted, but there’s a reserved calm to him that was definitely not present the last few times you’ve seen him.

“Mornin’,” he greets you, his voice betraying a little awkwardness. “The doc said she’s lettin’ you outta here. Thought I’d help you home.”

You recognise the olive branch being offered, but whether it’s for the argument you’ve had, the bad feeling between you prior to that, or because he hasn’t come to visit you much since you’ve been here, you don’t know. You swallow your pride and thank him, and he helps you to finish packing your bag and then swings it over his shoulder to carry it for you.

The journey from the clinic is slow going, and not only because you’re not used to walking any kind of distance after the past week. People you had never even spoken to before come up to you to enquire after your wellbeing, and it settles a lovely warmth around your heart that everyone seems to care so much. Joel doesn’t speak much at all, except to check in occasionally to see if you’re okay and if you need to stop to rest, and while his thoughtfulness seems to be couched in politeness rather than concern you’re still grateful that you seem to be getting back on an even keel with him.

The front porch of your house looks actively welcoming, something you never imagined you would ever think about it, and you feel a slow relaxation as you enter the front door, your stomach unclenching as you sigh a breath of relief now you were back in your own space and away from clinical surroundings.

“You gonna be okay?” Joel asks softly, the question loaded with implications about your mental health as well as your physical.

“Yeah,” you say readily. “Yeah, I actually think I will be. Thank you for walking me.”

“You’re welcome.”

You desperately want to fill the silence that follows, both of you casting your eyes around your living room in an attempt to look anywhere but each other, but your mind has gone blank except for all but the most banal conversation starters.

“So…you going back to the dam today?”

“Uh, no. No, everythin’ got fixed up fine in the end. Your friend Chloe got us up and running a damn sight faster than we would have been otherwise. We’re all grateful to her.”

"That's good," you nod, your mind already casting about for a way to keep the conversation moving. "And uh...Ellie's trip. You all ready for it?"

"Yeah, I think we're about ready to go. That recordin' thingy you found was very useful. Just what I needed really. Thank you."

"You're welcome. And at least you know that the museum should be pretty clear. One less thing to worry about I guess."

He nods, smiling politely, and silence falls again. Another fucking awkward silence between you and this time it’s too much. You don’t care if he doesn’t want you anymore, you don’t care about the harsh words that flew, and even an apology doesn’t seem quite as important as it once did. You miss the laughter and fun that had punctuated your time in Jackson and at this point, you just want your friend back.

“Look, Joel-“

“Hey-“

You try to speak at the same time and both chuckle self-consciously. “Ladies first,” he says, gesturing at you.

You bite your lip and take a deep breath, girding yourself.

“Look, I’m just gonna be straight with you. I hate that things have somehow gotten like this between us. It was…well, nothing happened so I don’t know why it feels so weird. Can we…I mean do you think we can get back to how it was before?”

“Well, I’d like that,” he replies softly, uncrossing his arms and holding out his hand. “Friends?”

“Uhhh, yes. Always,” you say. “But in this case its going to have to be a left handed handshake.”

He looks down at his hand and then at your arm in its sling and smiles to himself.

“It's still a bindin’ contract I hope,” he twinkles and you grin as you take his hand and shake it firmly.

And that, you hope, is that. Just you and Joel again. Buddies. A team.

“I was just gonna say that my original plan was to take Ellie out for her birthday trip tomorrow, weather permittin’,” he continues. “But if you feel like you want us next door, you tell me. I don’t wanna leave you here if you feel like you might need help.”

“Thank you,” you say warmly, meaning it with every ounce of your being. “But I think I’ll be okay. The doc said she’ll look in on me every day whether I want that or not, and I don’t doubt Vanessa will be keeping a close eye too. Stick to your plan. I wanna know every detail of what happens out there.”

You chat a little more, about everything and nothing, and a happy serenity settles itself into your heart. It was okay. You would be okay.

After Joel departs you begin work on your own plans for Ellie’s birthday. After the wretchedness of the presentation of her Christmas present, you wanted to make her birthday gift look as pretty as you could. So you set to decorating one of the old cardboard boxes that had been rescued from the shed with some of the colouring pencils you had taken from the museum gift shop, drawing and colouring stars, moons, comets and planets across the dull brown of the cardboard until almost every inch was filled with colour. It was slow going with only one working hand, but you manage and before you know it the sunlight is beginning to fade into a warm gold, streaming long through your windows as the sun sets.

You go up to your bedroom and place the gift on your dresser ready for when Joel and Ellie come back from their trip to the museum. You’re already planning what else you can do for her and decide to try and make a birthday cake. Nothing too fancy as supplies are limited, but you think some sort of sponge with homemade jam would be nice. The greenhouses might provide you with the berries that you needed and you might be able to scrounge up a little sugar too with some luck.

As you mull over your options, movement catches your eye from the window. Ellie is leaving her little studio and crossing the back lawn. She glances up to your house and catches sight of you, giving you a wave and then beckoning you to come down to her. By the time you’ve made your way downstairs, she is waiting at the front door.

“Wanna come over for dinner? I don’t imagine cooking will be easy with your arm in that thing, and Joel’s made fajitas. I’ve never had them before!”

You want to say that you think it over, that you consider if it would be too much to test your relationship with a visit so soon after calling a truce, but your stomach decides for you by giving an audible growl almost as soon as she’s finished speaking. She grins at the sound and you accompany her to the house next door.

The delicious smell of frying onions and spices hits you as soon as you walk in and it makes your mouth water. Ellie leads you through to the dining room where Joel is finishing up setting the table for three.

“Good thing I made extra,” he smiles as he places the plates down.

“Pfft! You were the one who told me to go get her and not take no for an answer!” Ellie fires back as she plonks herself into a seat.

“Need any help?” you ask Joel, a smile borne of the warmth of knowing that he wanted you there revealing itself inescapably across your face.

“Naw, you just sit down and relax. Ellie can do somethin’ for once,” he teases.

“Its my birthday week. I don’t have to help.”

“Birthday week?” Joel huffs dismissively. “What are you, the Queen of England?”

“Queen of Jackson,” she reminds him with a sly smile and he laughs as he returns to the kitchen to finish his preparations.

She watches him go, and as soon as he is she whips her head toward you, an eager expression on her face.

“Did Joel tell you what he’s got planned for my birthday? It is new DVDs? Is it a puppy? Is it a car?!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” you laugh. “What makes you think I know anything about it?”

“Oh you so do! I can tell.”

“My lips are sealed,” you inform her firmly as Joel comes back in the room, his hands protected from the heat of the pan he is carrying by large oven mitts.

“She badgerin’ you about her birthday?” he asks indulgently as he places the sizzling pot of food on a table mat.

“No!” Ellie protests innocently as you say “Maybe.”

“Traitor,” she whispers, narrowing her eyes at you.

“Well look,” he sighs as he settles into his chair. “I think I can reveal a little somethin’.” Ellie leans forward eagerly, listening intently, her eyes wide. “I’m takin’ you on a campin’ trip,” Joel announces.

“A camping trip?” Ellie asks, a small puzzled frown appearing on her face.

“Yup, just you an’ me. I uh…I found somethin’ you’re goin’ to absolutely love.” He rests his elbows on the table and covers his mouth with his hands, but not quickly enough to hide the huge grin that spreads over his face. It triggers your own and Ellie looks between you suspiciously through the steam rising from the pot on the table.

“You do know what it is!” she says accusingly.

“I am saying nothing,” you tell her. “But I am begging you, please can we eat? I’m so sick of fruit and porridge and this smells so damn good!”

It is damn good, and made all the better by being here with two of your favourite people, laughing and joking as if it had never been any other way. After dinner, Joel makes tea for you all and you sit in his living room, bathed in soft lamplight and the warm glow of friendship, and when Ellie goes to bed you don’t make your excuses to leave and she smiles delightedly at you as she leaves through the back door.

“I’m gonna make her a birthday cake when you get back,” you confess to Joel, smiling yourself as you hear the door close softly behind her.

“Oh man! She’ll love that,” he says enthusiastically. “Not sure she’s ever had one before. Those FEDRA fucks probably weren’t much for birthdays.”

“Probably not,” you agree. “I’ve just gotta get some ingredients. Some fruit to make jam and stuff.”

Joel’s face is almost comically eager as he jumps up. “Wait right there,” he instructs, and before you can tease him about being too comfortable to go anywhere he rushes back into the kitchen and returns almost immediately holding a small jar in his hands along with a spoon.

“Would this help?” he says, a slightly smug undertone to his voice as he unscrews the lid and offers it to you.

“I was going to make my own, but holy shit yes!” you exclaim. “Thank you!”

“Try a bit,” he offers, giving you the spoon.

The pure, delectable sweetness of strawberries explodes on your tongue and you close your eyes and hum your delight, savouring the taste. You couldn’t remember the last time you had tasted anything quite so decadent, certainly not in the last decade.

“Hey, don’t eat it all!” he jokes as you go in for another spoonful. “Gimmie that!”

He also dips the spoon in for a tiny bit of the treat and he too makes a rumbling hum of repletion, a sound that isn’t intentionally sexual but sounds very much like it to your ears just because it’s him. You try to focus on the kind thing he is doing for you and Ellie instead, and thank him for the gift again.

Tiredness begins to creep up on you an hour or so later, and your shoulder is starting to feel a little achey and sore but you don’t want this evening to end, perfect as it has been. Joel notes your discomfort and provides some mild painkillers that help to ease it into something manageable again. You chat, mostly about Ellie’s surprise and how much she’s going to love it, but you begin to feel a gap at the centre of the conversation, a black hole that needs to be addressed. It seems like neither of you want to risk stirring up any bad feeling so soon, but you also feel as if you just want to talk it through once and for all and put what happened as firmly in the past as you can. To your surprise, Joel breaches the subject first.

“I uh…look, I don’t want us to start arguin’ again, but I feel like there’s somethin’ I gotta say.”

You shift your body so you’re facing him more fully across the small space between you on the sofa.

“Okay,” you say, feeling a little twinge of nervousness in your gut.

“I’m sorry,” he says, bluntly. “I’m sorry for sayin’ what I said at the clinic and I’m sorry for actin’ the way I did before that. It started off because I wanted to give you some space and then it just got outta hand.”

The apology takes you by surprise, but not as much as the reasoning behind his strange behaviour over the past month or so and you frown in confusion. “Give me space?”

He nods. “That last night we were out there. I couldn’t sleep while you were on watch. I was just thinkin’ and thinkin’. I couldn’t shut off. I felt like what I had done…well what I had nearly done…I felt like I took advantage of you.”

Your frown grows deeper as your confusion grows and a disbelieving smile curls the corners of your mouth.

“I didn’t exactly run away, Joel.”

“No, I know. But when you were talkin’ about Jacob that evenin’ you were obviously still upset by the whole thing. And I remember before when you told Ellie you couldn’t think about that stuff and gettin' close to people and I felt like I had just kinda…I dunno, I guess intruded on a part of your life that you weren’t ready to deal with. I feel like I forced it. And I had no idea how to make it right. And-“ he takes a deep breath and sighs it out heavily before continuing, now looking down at his hands where they rest on his denim clad thighs rather than at you. “Talkin’ about Tess wasn’t exactly easy for me either. She’s been gone nearly two years and I sorta put everythin’ I had into Ellie and keepin’ her safe. I mourned her, but you know what this shit’s like. It bites you on the ass when you least expect it.”

A pang strikes your heart. For the sound of Jacob's name spoken by Joel in this beautiful place, in this time of comfort and security that you could never have possibly envisaged when you were with him all those years ago. For Joel himself that he had wanted so badly for you to feel okay, that he had thought he had overstepped by wanting to be closer to you and for the emotions all of this must have stirred up around his own past entanglements.

You don't want to stop him when he's so clearly ready to talk and so you merely mutter “Don’t I know it,” and he smiles sadly before looking back up at you.

“Afterward I tried to put some distance between us because I…I just didn’t know how to be around you. I know I shouldn't have taken that decision for you but I didn't know what else to do. And I was pissed that I’d put us both in that position in the first place. And then the longer we didn’t talk the worse it got, and then when you were gonna take Ellie out…I was scared. I was scared of losin’ her.”

You nod your understanding. “I know. But I would never-“

“Have let anything happen to her. I know. I know you’d protect her with everythin’ you had. If I didn’t then I wouldn’t let her go with you. But…but I was scared of losin’ you too. Especially ‘cause we hadn’t been right for a while. And when you came through those gates and I heard Ellie yellin’ for help I just ran. I got to the gate and damn near caught you out of the saddle. There was so much blood, I couldn’t tell if you were bit or shot or…or dead. It was such a relief when I saw you open your eyes the next day. And then when I went home everythin’ just kinda came upon me. I was so damn angry. At myself more than anyone. That I could have prevented it if I’d just stopped bein’ a horse’s ass and come with you that day.”

Your heart twinges again, this time at the truth and vulnerability that he's showing and at his admission of both the trust he has placed in you and his affection. You want him to feel better. You want to make him feel better.

“It was an accident, Joel,” you say softly. “It’s not your fault. If it’s anyone’s it’s mine for not killing that runner properly the first time. And the important thing is that Ellie is fine.”

He shakes his head in a tiny, unconscious gesture. “That’s just it,” he says. “That’s not the only important thing. Not any more. And it took you nearly dyin’ for me to see it. And then the first thing I do is give you shit for it.”

“Well, I’ll admit, that didn’t feel great,” you confess, scooting closer to him on the sofa and placing your hand on his. You can't stop yourself from stroking your thumb softly over his fingers and he looks up sharply, as if he hadn't expected such a motion. You stop the movement abruptly, thinking you might have gone too far too fast, but instead he immediately covers your hand with his, trapping it between his calloused palm and the softer skin you feel below, and his eyes are softening the longer his gaze lingers on you.

“And you not talking to me felt pretty awful too. I didn't know what I'd done wrong. I didn't think I had done anything wrong. But you've apologised and I accept your apology. As for the other stuff…it’s not all on you. Like I say, I wasn’t exactly running away from you that day. I’d never told anyone about Jacob, and it was hard to talk about. But it wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought it was gonna be, because I knew you understood. Stop beating yourself up about that afternoon, okay?"

His eyes are deep and dark as they meet yours, only the soft yellow of the lamplight reflected within. He squeezes your hand gently, a small smile gracing his beautiful lips and the nervousness you were feeling has now morphed into a low hum of excitement that trills through you as you realise that this is the closest you’ve been since that moment under the lashing rain and the dripping trees. His hand is engulfing you with its warmth and its size and you suddenly cannot drag your eyes from his lips, remembering how close they were to yours and fuck you’re still holding his hand, but he’s still holding yours too and as you look up you see that his eyes have a spark of that same hunger you saw before. He shuffles a little nearer, drawing closer and pulling your hand slowly toward him and even though you don’t know what he’s doing, of course you’re going along with him, stopping is the last thing on this earth you want to do and…why is he doing this? Gently placing your hand on to his chest with his above it, and you can feel soft flannel, firm muscle and his thrumming heart under it all. His other hand is at your cheek, stroking it with his thumb and the utmost tenderness and you melt into his touch, pressing your cheek more firmly against his skin-

“Mmmfphhh.” You wince as you try to muffle the noise of pain behind your teeth, and Joel’s eyes widen in panic as he drops his hands from you.

“Shit, are you okay?!”

“Yeah, just…fucking shoulder. I’m still getting used to the ways I can move, and more importantly the ways I can’t. My neck did not like what I just did.” You cradle your elbow in its sling and breathe out an exasperated sigh. When you look back at Joel you can tell that whatever spell had passed between you over the past few minutes had definitely been broken as he was now looking at you with nothing but concern.

“I’ll be okay,” you reassure him. “But uh…I should probably get going. You need to be up early tomorrow. And I should get some sleep. Thank you so much for dinner. It was amazing.”

“Anytime,” he replies softly as he follows your lead and stands up. “You want me to walk you over?”

“Don’t worry about it. Just focus on making sure Ellie keeps her surprise a surprise. I don’t doubt she’s got ways and means of finding out anything she wants!”

He grins at that and bids you goodnight at the door, and you walk the short distance back to your own house, your mind whirling.

Fuck. You had wanted to make things better with Joel, and that had definitely been achieved but Christ hadn’t this complicated the situation all over again? What the fuck had you been thinking. What the fuck had he been thinking? Were either of you thinking at all? You jog up the steps of your porch, enter your house and close the door behind you, and begin walking up the stairs when there is a harsh and urgent knocking at the door.

You’ve barely opened it before he steps inside and his hands cup your face as he presses his lips to yours. They’re so much softer than you’d imagined, even with the prickle of his moustache against you. Your breath hitches as you part your lips and the ragged, hoarse moan that rumbles from his chest as you open yourself to him makes your knees weak. But he’s there to catch you, one hand now around your waist as you realise you’re desperately clinging one-handed to the flannel of his shirt. His mouth moves softly against your lips and his tongue runs tentatively against yours making you shiver, making you grab him harder, feeling the tensed muscle of his back, pressing yourself as close to him as you can be, your breath coming stunted as you melt into the sweetness of strawberries and sugar. Fire and want ripples in tingling waves from your lips, and you give a ravenous, breathy call of your own, your body answering his. You don’t want this to end, you never want this to end, but it does, it has to. It peters out slowly, softly. He’s kissing you as if he’s mapping you, committing you to memory. A gentle peppering of desire and adoration. And when he stops he doesn’t pull away. You feel the press of his forehead against yours, the ends of your noses bumping together.

“I couldn’t go…I didn’t want to go tomorrow without…I needed to…”

He starts and stops all of his sentences but you know what he’s trying to say and he doesn’t need to because you feel it too. You tilt your face up to catch his faltering words with your mouth, run your hand up his neck and bury your fingers in his soft waves as you pour every stolen glance, every tender daydream, every desirous thought you ever had about him into this perfect moment.

Taglist - @thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @pagannightwitch @tentacruels @kirsteng42 @shirks-all-responsibilities @deadhumourist @pedrostories @abbyhaslongshorts @celebrtyskinz @majahu @sanscas @myloveistoolittle @ohthemisssery @harperdoodle @hummelmi @casssiopeia

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel tlou x reader #joel tlou x you #joel tlou x f!reader #joel tlou x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel tlou fanfiction #joel tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fanfic

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ichorblossoms · 2 months

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for the ask meme can i get uhhhh yarrow + face, serena + motion, grimm + favorite

HI HELLO JANE!!!!! sorry this took awhile to get around to answering i wrote all the text and told myself i was gonna draw pictures for these and then i got distracted because i wanted to draw. other pictures instead :,D BUT without further ado !!

face: Describe your OC's face. What's their smile like? Are their orbs cerulean? What would someone notice first when looking at them?

i don't trust my writing skills enough to write a description. their face:

i talked a little bit abt their facial features in this ask, but yeah, the Bee Stuff is definitely what people notice first. yarrow's modification was an experimental one, so while most people are kinda used to seeing humods with fur on their faces or weird ears or maybe horns and whatnot, invertebrate features are rare and jarring. this does cause issues when you're trying to be discreet, so yarrow tries their best to wear bandanas or masks. even pre-modification they actually wear something to the effect of a bandana or surgical mask often; partially because They Are A Doctor and also because they live in a mining town that doesn't give a shit about how much dust is kicked up from the open-pit mining

pre-modification i'm not sure what people would notice first; they have a few small defining features like their dimples, yellow-gold eyes, straight teeth, patchy facial hair, and mole on their right cheek, but overall nothing out of the ordinary. i think it's less features people notice, and a general impression of openess? he's quick to smile, talkative, and expressive, so people usually feel like they can approach him

motion: How does your OC move? How does their clothing help or hinder their range of motion? Are they flexible, coordinated, clumsy?

having trained in martial arts for most of her life, serena's very coordinated and flexible! she also has a muscular stature and she can make herself very difficult to move if she doesn't want to. she's aware of her size and generally has a slouch to her posture and walks with a bit of a trudge and lope if that makes sense? she has enough control though to where she can move almost freakishly quiet and it scares people on occasion

ofc she doesn't wear clothes, but she does have her prosthesis!

she's got both an everyday and a sport prosthesis, so while her movement isn't necessarily affected by that, she's less willing to run or do anything intense if she just has her everyday prosthesis on (that's the one i draw, i need to look more into sport prostheses for humans and adapt a design from there)

bc she's a congenital amputee, the only real adjustment she's had to do irt her leg is adapting to a new prosthesis every few years, so she has a solid sense of moving with or without it on. i've been trying to determine if she has smthin like an adapted wheelchair as well, but since dragons are quadrupeds and she's only missing part of a limb, it may not be necessary when she also has her tail and wings to help counterbalance during movement...? there's also the factor that she doesn't have a lot of money, so regardless of what she has to assist her, it's not always top-quality and she's learned to live with a certain level of discomfort and pain

speaking of wings, flying is something dragons can do, but it's a lot like running where most ppl can't do it for longer periods of time unless they train. it's not as necessary in modern society, so most dragons can fly for short bursts if needed/for fun. with the exception of a few who do things like, idk fly to work, most rely on transit bc it's easier. serena's ability to fly is Okay, she's accumulated some damage to her wings over the years (side effect of martial arts where other people have claws and horns), which makes her less aerodynamic and more easily tired out. she's got a good handle on her body and how it moves, so she's actually pretty graceful in the air and not aware of that fact at all. overall, she prefers not to fly, but still maintains a healthy habit of working out those muscles so they don't atrophy, which is a thing that happens with modern dragons.

favorite: Does your OC have a favorite article of clothing or accessory? What is it? What's the meaning behind it? Do they wear it all the time or do they wear it sparingly to keep it safe?

am i allowed to saw wrench here. i'm gonna say wrench

saying wrench is grimm's favorite accessory is actually a stretch bc it loathes wearing it, but adores wrench as a companion but if we are purely talking abt clothing here, grimm's not the sentimental sort, so it doesn't hold on to things once they're to worn nor does it worry about wearing things out. which is the boring answer

wrench is only worn as armor a handful of times in-story and in dire circumstances (that i. have not quite figured out yet <3). grimm fucking hates wearing it, hates the way it takes them back to their past, hates the way it doesn't quite fit their body anymore and hurts if they wear it too long, hates why they even have to wear it, but it's protection and a weapon in one, and they don't have many options.

i talked abt wrench a little bit when you asked abt it here, but wrench is both an artifact of grimm's past and a dear friend. as an animal companion/robot grimm does maintain wrench to an extent and it's a good dog that doesn't age like normal animals, they have a close pet/owner bond. when it comes to "wearing" it, transforming (so to speak) doesn't cause any wear and tear on wrench itself, since that is one of the purposes it was built for, but the situations in which grimm would don wrench may result in damage and there's also an element of wanting to keep wrench safe. aside from being armor, wrench can also do stuff like jam signals for short periods of time and sense heat signatures, so it does have an interest in preserving wrench for its own work and safety as well, but it's also a pet, yknow?

post-story i'm p sure grimm and yarrow would get something equivalent to married. yarrow's the romantic and the one to suggest it ofc, but grimm's like "hell, if i'm going to symbolically tie their life to someone else's it wouldn't be anyone but yarrow" and whatever sort of wedding band/necklace/wearable symbol they choose would become grimm's favorite, esp since it represents a version of themself they like being

#asks #THANK YOU AGAIN!!!!!!!#LOVE TALKING ABOUT THEM #i was like 'oh i'll get these asks done [two weekends ago]' and then. i didn't. bc my brain is a goo. and also i'm stupid #oops! all 3/4 view facing right. ignore that hgkflhdlg #honeybee #thicker than water #art #yarrow #serena #grimm

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joelslegalwhre · 2 years

Text

On the other end of the world

pairing⁀➷ daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

word count⁀➷ 2.3k

summary⁀➷ When daniel is away for a race, you decide that you and your little daughter should pay her dad a surprise visit

warnings⁀➷ female reader, mom/pregnant reader, fluff, dad daniel, reader has family in italy, pregnancy, parenting

a/n⁀➷ I know that pregnant women aren't supposed to get on a plane but I ignored that for the sake of this fic. I’m not a doctor and my only source about pregnancy-related topics is the internet lol, remember that this is a work of fiction :) (I didn’t really make the readers pregnancy difficult like the request asked for, it just kinda didn’t fit in that well) (tell me if I missed a warning pls!) y/d/n = Your daughter's name

Requested; If that’s okay for you, could I have one with Daniel Ricciardo, who will be married to y/n, they already have a little girl together, who is a real daddy's girl, and y/n is pregnant with a second little girl, and the theme ca will be that y/n and their daughter surprise him during one of his races and that Daniel does not expect to see them because y/n wanted to rest because she has a very complicated second pregnancy

(I used an Italian sentence, please feel free to correct me if it's wrong!)

It was the weekend of the Italian GP. Daniel had already left Australia a few days ago, which was especially hard for him this time.

You and your daughter were at home in your house in Perth and would watch the race from there.

At least that's what Daniel thought.

"y/d/n? Baby, can you come here for a second?" you called her. You were sitting in the kitchen, while she was happily playing in the living room.

"Daddy is on the phone!" you added, and after that, it didn't take you a minute to hear her little feet tapping on the floor.

"Dadda?" she excitedly said.

"Nugget!" Daniel called back from the phone.

Her grin covered her entire face and she climbed onto a chair at the table to sit down next to you.

You turned your phone in her direction and she grinned at her Dad.

A huge grin spread across Daniel's face and he waved at her through the screen.

"Hey dadda, what awre you doin'?" she asked as best she could. It was that typical phase where usually only the parents understood what their child was saying. But it was also just too cute how she pronounced some words.

"I just got to my room." Daniel smiled and turned the camera to show her around.

"Where are the toys? Don't you have cars or play-doh?" she asked, totally shocked by that.

Daniel let out a hearty laugh as he looked at his little daughter with a smile. "No, they didn't give me any. But they did give me a real, big car, which is almost as great as play-doh." he returned, pretending to be disappointed too that he didn't get any toys.

"Mommy, can I show Daddy mine?" she whispered to you. "Of course." you whispered back and watched her grinning as she ran into the living room with the phone in her little hand.

"Look, Daddy, I have mine 'ight here! Mommy bought me a new colour today!" she told him excitedly. You listened to the two of them chat about everything for quite some time, stroking your baby belly.

You were 9 months pregnant and your belly was pretty much showing. As well as y/d/n, it was a girl. Daniel just seemed to be a girl daddy.

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"Good night sweetheart," You kissed y/d/n on the forehead and she snuggled closer to her stuffed animal. "Night Mommy."

It wasn't really late, not even for your daughter, but you would have to leave early tomorrow to catch the plane to Italy.

From her room upstairs you could hear your phone ringing. You walked down the stairs, hoping the caller would be patient until you were downstairs.

You picked up your phone from the counter in the kitchen and plopped down on the sofa as you took the call.

"Hey, lover." you said, grinning teasingly at him.

"'Dear cherished husband' is what I would have expected to hear from you, Mrs Ricciardo. But I guess I’m just your 'lover' then."

He greeted you.

It didn't take three seconds until you both couldn't hold back anymore and burst out laughing.

„Okay okay sorry, my dear cherished husband. How are you?"

„I'm missing you." Daniel said with a frown. „I miss you and y/d/n and baby bean."

Baby bean, that's how he called your baby daughter. It warmed your heart every time.

Your hand moved to your growing belly and you looked at your phone, propped up against a tissue box while you laid on the sofa.

„How are you, love?" Daniel asked as his gaze went from your big belly to your face.

„I'm okay, just the usual back pain. But I'm goo-„

„Have you called the doctor yet? Maybe that's not normal, maybe you need to take some medicine or herbs or... I don't know what a pregnant woman has to take. Babe please go and see a doctor-„

„Daniel!"

The previous three times you said his name, he didn't even hear it. Too focused on making a diagnosis for you.

Now he finally looked at you. He didn't say anything else but his eyes clearly said ‚huh?'.

„Baby, I know what to do, don't be scared."

„Yeah I know, but with y/d/n it was different..."

„I know," you sighed, „But even if this pregnancy is more difficult, I still know what is best, babe. And don't forget I have help too." you winked at Daniel and slowly you could see him starting to relax.

„Have you had any trouble with y/d/n going to bed?" Daniel asked interested, changing the topic. The last time he was away, she didn't want to go to sleep until, quote her, “her daddy was here to kiss her goodnight”.

„No, maybe because you two talked on the phone or it was just coincidence. But she behaved like a well-raised girl." you joked.

„Well, of course, I raised her." Daniel went along with the joke.

„Haha. How very funny of you Ricciardo." you faked being outraged.

„That's me, I'm always funny." he said laughing.

„But that's why you married me." he winked as you grinned and suppressed a giggle.

„True." you gave in and laughed.

„And this woman right here," you pointed at your chest, „is going to bed now."

„Are you? Are you really leaving me here, all by myself?"

„I am, sorry Babes." you said with fake pity and Daniel grinned.

„Oh, by the way, is it still as hot as when I left?" he asked interested.

You shook your head yes, „That's why I only sleep in my underwear." you grinned at him, knowing how it would tease him.

You got up from the sofa and turned off all the lights, your phone being the only source of light.

"Babe." He said with a straight face, tilting his head.

Daniels gaze went to you on the screen. "Don't say something like that if I'm here, on the other end of the fucking world." He said almost angry. Still, you grinned.

If he only knew.

The next day was a little hectic but y/d/n was so excited to see her Daddy again, that she acted like an angel sent to earth. She loved her Dad more than anything. He was her role model, best friend and guardian.

Even when she was a baby, her eyes always lit up whenever she saw him, her lips curling up in a smile, turning into a giggle no matter what he did.

The flight was alright and luckily for you, your daughter slept through most of it. At some point, you were a little afraid that something could happen, especially with your unborn baby girl.

You have visited your doctor before you had made any plans and she assured you that nothing would happen. She was the best doctor you could wish for, she always knew what is best and what to do, ever since your first pregnancy with y/d/n.

You'd also visit your family while you were in Italy, especially your grandma and if anything should happen she'd knew what to do.

When the warm Italian sun kissed your face and send warm shivers down your spine, you knew you were not far away from home anymore. Y/d/n held your hand while you walked out of the airport, your luggage by your side.

„Mommy, when are we going to see Daddy?" she asked, still a little tired. Her small eyes were puffy from sleeping on the plane and her stuffed sheep animal hung in her tight grip.

„Only a few hours now." you warmly smiled at her. „He's still working but later we're going to have dinner together." She beamed at you and hopped up and down while you both made your way to the exit, where a taxi would already be waiting for you.

Michael and Andreas had helped you manage everything so you knew in which hotel and room Daniel would be staying at, without having to ask him. Andreas was the nicest, and y/d/n already called him Uncle Andy which you found quite funny as did he. She met him once.

„Hey Nugget?" She looked up at you with a pair of brown eyes.

„We're going to surprise Daddy, remember? He doesn't know we're here yet. Do you have any plan how we could make it even more like a surprise?" you smiled down at her.

She looked like a total mix of you and Daniel. Whenever you looked into her eyes, you could swear they were Daniel's.

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Dinner time came sooner than you thought.

Your luggage was already in the extra room next to Daniel's and with y/d/n holding your hand you were on your way to surprise Daniel.

Michael texted you earlier so you could plan everything and be at the same spot at the same time.

Y/d/n wanted to get Daniel a surprise for when they met again, so for the last hour, you were walking around the area luckily finding everything she needed to surprise her Daddy.

„Oh mate, nah." Your husband's laugh echoed across the restaurant parking lot.

Michael had told him he „accidentally" booked a table for four persons, only that it wasn't accidentally.

Michael sent you a thumbs-up emoji, your sign.

„Are you ready to see Daddy again?" you giggled turning around to your daughter.

She shook her head excitedly.

„Me too." you grinned.

Taking off your seat belt and then hers, you locked the rental car and walked into the restaurant.

For a little more fun for y/d/n, both of you acted like spy agents as you walked up to the table. The gift bag in y/d/n's hand as you did.

You both had reached them, and you secretly winked at Michael for a hello.

You let go of her back, where one of your hands had rested to guide the way.

Your rested your hands on Daniel's shoulders before you leaned over to his ear.

At first you felt him stiffen a little, startled by the unknown touch, but as soon as he smelled your familiar scent his shoulders instantly relaxed.

He could tell that smell from thousands. This was the smell of home for him.

„Surprise." you whispered close to his ear.

„Supraisee!" y/d/n laughed full of joy at the same moment, tugging on his jeans.

To say Daniel was surprised was an underestimation.

„What? You- How?" He stuttered but then it looked like he was struck by a lightning strike.

Daniel stood up and turned around to you and his mini version. His smile showed how unbelievably happy he was.

He bent down to lift up his daughter, then he leaned to you to kiss you.

„How?" Was everything he could say. Daniel looked so confused, you and y/d/n both laughed at the same time.

„You know, we got on this crazy thing called a plane." you joked, once again.

„Very funny." Daniel joked too, but it didn't wipe away his grin.

Y/d/n had given Daniel her present, and let's just say the two were melting your heart.

She gifted him a little car and orange play-doh.

„You can build your Formula One car, that's why it's orange play-doh." she proudly explained.

Daniel looked at it like he was a toddler himself, „That is absolutely the best gift ever, Nugget!"

He lifted her up to kiss her on the cheek while holding her in a tight hug. When his beard tickled her cheek, she started giggling and wriggling his embrace. It was absolutely heartwarming.

When you all sat down and ordered your food, Daniel shot Michael a look.

„You knew."

Michael started grinning. „Of course I knew, mate."

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

Y/d/n was already sleeping, and you laid in bed next to your husband, something that happened too rarely during the f1 season.

Your head rested on the pillow, facing him, your eyes studied his face.

„I love you." you whispered.

His hands found yours and he leaned in closer.

„I love you too. I love you. I love you. I love you." he said in between kisses, the final one lasting longer than the previous.

„Do you want to come with us when we're going to visit Nonna?" you quietly asked in the silent room.

„I'd love to. I haven't seen her for some time now." Daniel lightly smiled, kissing the tip of your nose.

Once he started, Daniel couldn't hold himself back with kisses.

When his expression changed, you furrowed your eyebrows.

„What's wrong?"

„What if the baby comes sooner than we thought? If we're still in Italy?" You could hear he was concerned a little.

„Well then maybe we'll get an Italian baby girl, who knows?" You laughed and nudged Daniels side as he laughed „We'd be the Italian-Ricciardo-gang."

„Oh sí, amore mio." Daniel burst out laughing quietly.

When he wrapped his arm around you, holding your hand, you knew you've reached home.

Because home is not a place, but the person you love the most.

༄ Don't copy, translate or republish any of my works on any app or other platform please. I only post my work on Tumblr and Wattpad.

Reposts are always appreciated, they really make my day🧡

#formula1 #f1 #mclaren #racing #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #dad daniel ricciardo #danny ric #mywork #parenting #fluff #e writes #e writes ‚f1‘#joelslegalwhre's masterlist

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ladybird-with-a-pen · 1 year

Text

Uzushiogakure

Now since I’ve been pulled into the Naruto fandom and have decided to worldbuild Uzushio, I’ll lay out some headcanons of mine and of things I’ve read from fanfics that I absolutely love.

These are specifically for a story I plan to write soon and so some of my worldbuilding is not canon at all. This is specifically made to push the story forward that I want to make.

* When Kaguya initially introduces chakra to the world, the Uzumaki clan already exists in what present day called Uzushio. They are stone workers a few families large that settled there out of a desire to get away from there war torn world. They learned how to navigate the dangerous whirlpools with their ships. Uzushio is settled in a shallow valley ringed by a large volcanic mountain range. The front faces a large bay which is ringed by several large islands.

When chakra settles into the world, a combination of the power of the whirlpools and large basins of magma under the earth draws a larger then usual amount of chakra into the bay, forming the spirit of Uzu. The Uzumaki make contact with the spirit and their souls and all their like-chakra descendants are bonded with the sentient chakra. This make it so that when the Uzumaki die, their spirits are able to stay on the earth until they want to move on. Only the Uzumaki are able to see their spirits, not even branch families that come from the Uzumaki and make their own clans can see the spirits.

With the latent chakra in the air and how much has gathered in the bay, the Uzumaki and the 4 other clans that make up the future Uzushio are granted longevity and vitality, with the Uzumaki living up to 150 year and the other clans, having come later, living to about 120.

The village of Uzushio doesn’t start out as a shinobi village and doesn’t even get that designation until Konoha is established 1000 years down the line as the first Hidden Village. Instead, they consider themselves a Chakra Village. The only people who can live in Uzushio are clans that can use chakra, as the majority of people who live in the elemental regions are civilians because they can’t use chakra. The people of Uzushio use chakra in their daily lives but are generally doing jobs that civilians do in canon, like being merchants, doctors, blacksmiths, fishermen, etc. But all of this is augmented with chakra abilities and seals. These clans that settled here were not separated and were actually called by the spirit of Uzu, who can sense the dispositions of clans and whether they were a good fit for the Uzumaki people. She called 4 clans that could come together to protect each other.

There was only one main clan that started as shinobi before they came to Uzushio in the first 100 years. They settled to be able to raise their children in peace much like they did in Konoha. But as other shinobi clans outside the Land of Eddys developed their own Kekkei Genkai, they found that their singular abilities was not enough to protect the merchants and clan civilians that wanted to travel as well as fulfill the daimyo and nobles requests. So they offered to train any person who wanted to become a shinobi. With this and other clans having already developed clan and chakra abilities and seals but not using them much for combat, the citizens of Uzushio are easily able to add a military side to their Village.

The Uzumaki were not originally royalty. While a daughter of Asura did marry into the clan and their members regularly chosen as the leader or Seiza (named for constellations who the fishermen followed as guides), they did not become royally until a Uzumaki leader married the only heir of the Daimyo. It was then decided that because of the Land of Eddys only extending a few islands past the domain of Uzushio, the roles of Daimyo and Seiza be merged, with the nobles city still existing and having their roles but the center of the government residing within the city of Uzushio. The samurai were appointed to be the guard of the nobles. Thankfully with the Land of Eddy’s being so small, the nobles have a pretty humble disposition for nobles and are rich off of land trade. Eventually as time wore on, the nobility died out and the samurai clans left for other lands. It was from then on that it became normalized for the main line Uzumaki to raise their children as future leaders of Uzushio from childhood.

Uzu has a big role in how Uzushio operates. Not only does she have to approve of the future leader of Uzushio, but she also decides if one is considered a part of Uzushio. While every child has a seal drawn on the bottom of their big toe at birth as to be able to recognize another Uzushioian by touching them, Uzu inhabits the space of Uzushio from the mountain range to the islands borders, below the seas and above. She also is connected to every body of water connected to the ocean. So even if a Uzushioian dips their toe in a stream in Kiri, if it’s connected to the ocean, Uzu can detect their innermost intentions. So if one marked with the seal but plans betray another Uzushioian, their seal is wiped away from their body and they are no longer considered part of Uzushio.

Thats all for now. I’ll probably explain in further depth who the clans are and other smaller details of Uzushio and it’s culture. But it could go on for awhile.

#naruto #uzushio #uzushiogakure #village hidden in the eddys #worldbuilding #yeah guys I have like #so many ideas #I’ve been so intrigued with this #The Spirit of Uzu AU

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kuroecchy · 8 months

Text

the pic in the list are not mine, I just found the pics from pinterest

fair warning the theme i chose for my october prompts are completly randome so I have nothing planned for any of them.

English is not my first language and no beta.

All of this is cross posten on AO3

Day 3 - Late

Everyone knows that Tony Stark never arrives on time. Especially to meetings (both board and Avengers), he usually gets late on purpose for those. Mostly because he hates them but still. Late.

Sometimes it was genuinely because he's late. He often loses track of time when he's in the lab.

Sure, JARVIS tries to remind him, but when the engineer is engrossed in his work? Nothing, and I say nothing can distract him.

He's off on his own little world!

Everyone who knows the engineer long enough knows that.

Only few people can get the man to stop; Harley, Peter, and of course his boyfriend Stephen Strange.

Well the point is, for whatever reason it may be, Anthony Edward Stark is always late.

Well it was never really a problem before. Stephen even found it amusing when his boyfriend is late to the Avengers meeting only to make a grand entrance each time. Stephen particularly found it funny to see the others' exasperated looks.

So of course Tony never tried to fix that particular bad (according to others minus Stephen) habit of his.

So it had hit him harder when it had happened.

Tony had been down in his workshop as usual, engrossed on his current project while blasting his favorite song on full volume.

He had told JARVIS to not disturb him and to turn away any calls. Well except for calls from Peter and Harley (cuz they're his kids), Rhodey and Pepper (cuz if not they're gonna give a lifetime of scolding), and Stephen (his boyfriend obviously).

Incase of an emergency he had expected them to call him, even though he's technically retired (though no one really believes a hero can retire voluntarily like he did).

On another note he was informed by Peter of what had happened.

It started like this :

'Sir, Peter has entered the tower and is now rushing to the workshop.' That was the first clue that something wrong had happened.

But Tony, being engrossed in his own little world, simply hummed in dismissal.

'Sir, may I warn you that Peter is not in the best of moods.' and that's the second tick.

At those words Tony paused, "is he injured?" Worry laced his voice.

But before JARVIS could answer the door to his workshop slid open.

"Mr Stark! Where were you!" Came the voice of his young apprentice.

Tony turned out to see a red face. Eyes swollen, tear tracks still visible.

The father figure rushed to the boy in an attempt to check for any visible injuries that could cause his son to be in this state, "wh-what happened? Peter are you-"

"I'm Mr Stark." He spoke with a shaky voice, "it's Doctor Strange…"

…What? Stephen what happened to him?

Suddenly the retired hero felt like he had just taken an ice bath.

"everyone's been calling you…" said the young hero in a weak voice.

"J-Jarvis…?"

'There have been 132 missed calls in the past hour, Sir. Mostly from Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff. Other calls had been from other currently active members of the Avengers, Sir.' His faithful AI spoke quietly.

And that's another cold bath. Add the feeling of a rug being pulled from under him.

“You really haven’t been paying attention have you…”

Horror creeping into his voice, “Where is he now?”

“Metro general. He’s been undergoing surgery for his injuries.”

“I-I need to-”

Tony took off to his balcony not even bothering to finish his sentence. Jumping off and feeling as the nanites surround him. He quickly blasted to Metro General Hospital.

Not caring about how others looked at him in awe, he walked straight to the receptionist’s desk.

“Stephen Strange. Where is he?” he said rather harshly.

The shocked slash scared the receptionist who could only point out the direction to the emergency room. Tony mumbled out a quick thank you before running to where the receptionist had pointed to.

When he finally saw the heroes sitting outside the operating room he was panting.

The atmosphere was somber and when they looked at him Rogers was the first one to speak.

“Tony… you're late…”

~ END ~

Note :

If y'all noticed when Tony got the news of something bad had happened to Stephen, Tony called for JARVIS. As y'all can see I usually wrote JARVIS’ name in all capital but there I used lower case.

It was only to add to the dramaticness of it all, showing that Tony had spoken it in a weak voice.

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popcornforone · 1 year

Text

You’ve Not Lived, Until You Feel Alive

Chapter 2 of Is That All Mr Gutierrez series

Master List

Chapter 1

Thanks for the love for chapter 1 peoples, I know it was a little different to what I usually write but I need to character builds in this one. When we get to the smut it will be exactly what you all want.

Synopsis: Time has now passed & its 10 years since you had your first kiss with Javi. A lot has changed, & you’ve both grown, but your therapist is asking you to write a secure blog only they can see to get you to believe in yourself once again.

Word count:2500

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18! THIS IS A VERY TRAUMATIC CHAPTER! I know this will not be for some of you, it gets dark, but I needed it too, I have to break the reader before they get to have fun. Death, murder, suicidal thoughts, violence, terrorists, cancer, shooting, blood, pain & suffering, angst, agony, anger, PTSD, mental health, nightmares. Pining, wanting, unrequited love not being returned, break ups, loss, sorrow. This chapter is done in a blog, journal format.

Again I am sorry if this is triggering or too much, but I needed to do this to character build. If you want to skip to chapter 3 that’s fine, it will be published soon.

Thanks for understanding peoples, it means a lot, & thanks for reading it’s always appreciated. Don’t worry the smut is on its way, I promise.

Secure therapy Blog post 18

I almost didn’t publish this. I really didn’t think anyone would want to hear what I had to say after the events but my therapist said I should just write when the day happened. Writings my therapy, it’s my creative outlet.

But today was the day the unimaginable thing happened….

My dad passed away & im not sure I can go on.

My dads been unwell for a while. We knew it was cancer & it disappeared about 4 years ago but then it came back, & it was incurable.

Nothing the doctors said… there’s nothing we can do… he’s got 6 months… go make memories with him… so that’s what my mum

& I have done.

My mum to have to go through another loss in her life. Another heartbreak, another good bye. I’m not ready to post about the other heart break yet, but I will do one day. It not mine that happened I don’t recall it.

But we have spent the last 18 months with my dad having the best time in the world. The Gutierrez wedding in Cuba for Javis older sister Luna was so much fun, my dads face as I danced with Javi after few too many drinks, thinking of what I could have had with Javi from my time as a teenager crushing on him. It was like time had frozen. My head buried into Javis neck, inhaling his scent for old time sake. The way his hand stroked my back, making me want more. Trying not to think that his fiancé was looking right at us. She knows I’m just his assistant & look after the legitimate side of the business. She has no idea the feelings I have hidden away from her soon to be husband. A pipe dream I had 10 years ago when I wrote my teenage diary.

But then we got home & dad took a downward turn. & he told me to be brave & go after my dreams & to always be true to myself.

When he was still with us after the 6 months the doctor originally told us, we took each day as a blessing. I don’t believe in god, but I know my dad does. Every night I asked my dads god for one more day with him. & obviously I asked for one too many.

Watching him pass was heartbreaking & but also soothing. He was no longer in pain. & what he did medically for the world to help & try & find a cure still astounds me. My dad went through awake brain surgery to see what happened when it was operated on & how it affects the body. He was so brave. If that procedure saves one life, my dads pain & death won’t have been for nothing.

The Gutierrez’ have told me to take as much time as I need. Javi has sent around a vase of black orchids, my favourite, he always says he sees my inner goth whenever he looks at them. He’s said the business can wait & that he can look after himself for a few days, but I am already missing that dimple & cheeky smile. Even now he has a calming influence on me. It’s just him, it’s just J. He will always be there for me. & yes it’s weird that one of my closest friends in the world is a drug lord & part of the mafia, but we run the legitimate side of the family empire. We run it well. & Javi knows a day will come when he has to run all of it. He’s not looking forward to that but he knows it’s his destiny. He & Sofia will raise an amazing family & have a fantastic life & I will watch by the side, maybe with a family of my own, watching them be happy & be glad I have a small part in their life.

My dad told me to be happy. & that’s what I’m going to do… be happy.

He wouldn’t want me to mope around & wait for life to happen.

So that’s what I’m going to do.

We will have the funeral, Javi Senior has said we can have the wake at their mansion, no need for us to have it in our hotel.

But then I think I need to take that gap year I’ve always promised I would do.

I want to see more of the world than just Spain & England. I want to experience life. I want to feel alive. That’s what my dad always said, you’ve not lived until you feel alive.

Dad I miss you.

I miss your smile.

Your kind eyes.

Your bad jokes.

& I miss that you will never walk me down the aisle or watch me grown into a woman. I know I am a woman but I have so many life experiences to come & you won’t be there to watch me grow & fail. Become proud of myself & who I become.

I love you dad…

I’m not sure I can do this without you…

Secure therapy Blog post 26

I’ve put this off

Everyone’s told me to type

Everyone asked me if I’m okay

I say I am

But I’m not

So here goes

4 months ago I nearly died…

even typing that feels like a weight has lifted off my shoulder

It was horrible

I should not be here

I can still feel the heat when I drop off to sleep

The dreams & nightmares are so vivid

Every day awake was already struggle & now my peaceful sleep is full of flashbacks of horrors or my worst nightmares

It’s pain like nothing else

I was in Rome, after seeing the opera, just on my own. I needed from space from mum, work & Javi. His break up was hurting him a lot & he’d been making rash impulsive decisions. It’s most unlike him. So I suggested I went away for a week, have some me time & so he can get over Sophia. The last thing we both needed was to be moody in each others presence.

So I flew to Rome, did all the sights & went shopping, hooked up with some guys & stayed in a nice hotel & went to the opera.

Then at 3am as I slept in bed I felt warm, it was September so the weather is to be expected. & then I heard the noise, & smelt the ash. A car had exploded outside our hotel & the front of the building had caught on fire. I grabbed my phone & keys & headed to the fire escape.

I could feel the heat surround me, my lungs desperately needing air, as this ash fog just coated my throat. I remember seeing some people pass out, lots of screaming & items on the floor that I did not register. I knew I had to make it out, I had to see everyone I cared for one last time

I know that in the last 18 months since my dad passed I’ve felt helpless & suicidal at times but I’ve always found strength & love from others, it’s got me though it. I needed to get out in one piece. I needed to be with everyone even if it is just to say goodbye.

But then I got to the lobby to make my way to the exit. This was not just a car crashing & exploding, this was a massacre. This was an attack on the hotel & its guests. Bodys burnt in front of my eyes, some people bleeding out, bullets & weapons across the floor. Death stood between me & my exit. How I had got to this part of the hotel still alive & not in pain was a miracle already. As I stepped across the lobby heading for the exit, I could just hear my dads voice like he was there going, you’re doing so well sweetheart, you’re almost safe, you can make it. A few more steps & the horrors will be over. You can almost smell the fresh night air, keep going.

Maybe there is an afterlife, maybe he was reaching out to me but I knew I had to make it across & get tho the exit. It took me a while but I stumbled eventually through the exit & gasped as the nights air filled my lungs.

But then the horror continued… but I have no recollection of it. All I remember is the high piecing screech & suddenly feeling warm as something hit me. Blood trickling & seeping through my sleep shorts. I had been shot. I know I blacked out but there was just one thing running through my mind before my face crashed into the hard cold concrete path. That i would was never get to apologise to Javi for telling him to man up after the break up, for not telling him that I knew Sofia was having an affair sooner, & for not telling him that he has been my true love from the moment I met him, aged 13.

27 of us survived the hotel siege. My mum said I had a face Picasso would have been proud to paint when I woke up. She was crying but her humour got me through it. She’s had so so much loss in her life. Losing me would have hurt the most, she’d have no one. We agreed one step at a time, keep things slow, but I keep having these nightmares from the day. I now know it was the police who shot me by accident thinking I was apart if the group storming the hotel & I am being compensated, I mean it is there job to protect everyone & not take any risks. But I was in my jammies how many terrorist siege a hotel in pjs?

Seeing Javi when I got back here on the island was perfect. All our anger & frustration with each other had gone. We hugged & cried & promised to never be mean or hide anything from each other again. & then he broke my heart just before I went to tell him how I really felt about him & that he helped get me through that night & how he was the last thing I thought of before I blacked out. He said I was his best friend & he knew we would always have each others back.

It still hurts much like the wound in my leg. It hurt deep. But if Javi just wants us to be just friends I can cope with that. I just want Javi to be happy that’s all. I want to watch him grow & flourish & live his best life. I want the world for Javi & if that means I’m just a friend, I hope I can deal with it.

I’m so glad I have a secure server to type on.

This has really helped me today, & so has looking back at all my old posts. Therapy has really made me not feel guilty, that I’m here & those people aren’t. Survivors guilt is real & it’s painful. I do still wish at times that I didn’t make it out but my dad was the voice in my head telling me to keep going & that I am strong. My mum will always have my back. & I know I can trust Javi to support me in everything as a friend, even if that’s all it is. But I do wish it was something more…

Secure therapy Blog post 32

It’s been a while… it really has

My therapist told me to write

She told be to be honest

She told me she would read this

She told me to say it

I am worth something

I am not defined by my recent trauma

& I am valid in my pain

Last week was not only the 2 year anniversary of my dads death but also the day I received my compensation for being shot & the findings report from the massacre were released on the same day, it hit me like a train & i seriously considered with all the emotions & conflict inside me, if my life actually mattered

My mums back in London, to complete the renovation of the new dinning room & kitchen of our hotel there, my best friend is on her honeymoon, & no offence to you my therapist, but I knew what you were going to say. I wanted something else or someone else to validate me.

I’ve been staying at Javis on Saturdays recently, he says that’s when he misses company the most & he usually has meetings or church on Sunday mornings. So I was just standing in the kitchen cooking us dinner, when everything just over came me, the knife in my hand looking so sharp & inviting, would anyone really miss me if I killed myself right now…

I didn’t even know Javi had entered the kitchen, but I knew the second I came out of my paused trance that the tingling sensation Within me was from his hand removing the knife from mine, putting it out of my reach. His other hand stroking my back going up & down my spine. I felt like I was actually breathing & being seen for the first time in almost 2 years.

& that’s when one of my favourite songs came on the playlist i was listening too. & I just rocked with Javi in silence, his arms tightly around me waist, squeezing the pain out of me but also filling me with love & purpose… the moment I finally turned my head to see him & his big puppy dog eyes, the lyrics sang “when nobody understands you, well I do” played. We both just softly smiled at each other no words being said.

When the song ended he asked me if I felt better & that I was always welcome & safe in his house or his parents villa if I need some space & didn’t want to go back to the hotel. I told him I knew that, he told me because that’s what best friends do we say nothing & we just understand don’t we…

I should have told him there & then that I was now sure I wanted more but the moment was so pure & perfect & gave me purpose again, that I didn’t want to ruin it with heart break for me if he rejected me. I couldn’t cope with that, not right now. So I’ll continue continuing on

I know my place

& I know Javi will always be there for me…

Chapter Three

#fanfic #my fics #pedro pascal #no minors #javi g #javi gutierrez #javi g fic #javi g fanfiction #the unbearable weight of massive talent #tuwomt #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal fanfiction

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yanderes-galore · 2 years

Note

Regular prompt: could I request for 21 and 23 with blu medic? From your yandere prompts?

Of course you can! BLU Medic's been getting a lot more affection lately.

Yandere! BLU! Medic Prompts 21 + 23

"Photos and trinkets only do so much, dear!"

"You're crying... come a little closer, I'll make it all go away."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Manipulation, Deception, Drugging mention, Kidnapping, Betrayal, Delusional behavior, Noncon picture taking, Stalking, Forced relationship.

You had met the BLU team's Medic a long time ago. Compared to his counterpart he was much easier to get along with. He held no sadism, in fact he was quite polite.

You worked under the Administration with Pauling and had to inspect the bases of both teams occasionally. Visits were once every month for a few days, allowing you to get well acquainted with BLU team. Pauling usually checked over RED.

Medic was always very nice to you. Greeting you with a smile and always wishing to chat. Everyone there was nicer than RED but Medic showed the most differences.

His comforting personality allowed you two to grow close. Whenever you did your check-ins you were there to chat with him. He loved the time you two spent together.

He never struck you as the Medic to drug someone.

He never seemed like the one who'd betray your trust for selfish means. You never even thought of him to be the type that locks you in a room. You've never even seen him take secret pictures of you....

Yet he had proven you should never trust a book by its cover.

"Come on, Medic..." You plead, tears falling from your face in anguish. "This isn't like you... I need to go-"

"And wait another agonizing month?" Medic hisses softly. "It hurts when you're not here...."

You pull against the leather restraints keeping you on the table, like those you'd see in an asylum. You whimper and cry against them. How could your friend do this....

Medic notices your tears and panics a little. He still hated seeing you cry... even like this. You flinch when he comes closer.

"You're crying... come a little closer, I'll make it all go away."

You feel a gloved hand rub your cheek, wiping the tears that fell from your eyes. You hiccup and sob at the realization of the position you're in. An action that has medic cooing softly while he tried to comfort you.

"Why?" You croak when Medic places a soft kiss on your forehead. He looks at you with such adoration it's like he doesn't think what he's doing is wrong.

"Oh liebling..."

Another kiss, closer to your lips this time.

"Photos and trinkets only do so much, dear!"

You feel both of his gloved hands hold your face, the doctor silently admiring you. You were so very precious to him. A caged dove meant for him to care for.

"I can't stop looking at you. I just want to worship you as mine.... I want to be yours and yours only. This is just to be sure you're always mine."

"You're crazy! Crazy just like him!"

"Don't compare me to him! I'm not like him!"

"Doing this is not like him?"

Medic goes silent, look of adoration slowly transitioning to one of rage. In frustration he pulls away before being able to kiss your lips. You hear him heave a sigh of anger.

"It'll take time to get used to these new arrangements, I know. Yet I assure you everything will be fine! I'll check on you later... I need to calm down."

Before you can say anything, Medic gags your mouth and leaves the room.

Leaving you alone with your own thoughts, pondering your new fate....

#yandere team fortress 2 #yandere tf2 #yandere tf2 medic #yandere blue medic

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ollieofthebeholder · 11 months

Text

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

<< Beginning < Prev. || AO3

Chapter 30: September 2016

“…seventeen stitches, and they were keeping him a couple days to watch for infection,” Martin concluded, twisting around to see the other occupants of the car. “He’s supposed to be getting discharged this morning, though, so he’ll likely be back in the office on Wednesday.”

Sasha snorted. “Not tomorrow?”

“He has to get another note from his doctor first, I’m sure.”

Tim had insisted on giving Martin a ride in to work that morning, and Martin had acquiesced, partly because the transit route between the bookshop and the Institute was bloody inconvenient and partly because it meant they could talk, however briefly, before going in. (It also meant he got to see the look on Tim’s face when Gerry walked into the kitchen half-asleep and wearing nothing but his underpants, and the look on Gerry’s face when he realized that Tim, whom Martin had not informed him was coming over, was ogling him.) They had stopped to pick Sasha up from the coffee shop she usually popped into, having seen no reason to change her routine just because she’d met an eldritch abomination there once, and Martin had spent the last few minutes telling her about Melanie’s phone call from Friday night.

“Did he call Elias?” Tim asked, his mouth twisting into a sneer as he said the man’s name that Martin had only rarely seen. “Or are you going to have to do that?”

Martin shrugged. “I talked to Melanie, not Jon, but I don’t doubt for a minute that either Jon called Elias or Elias already knows.”

Sasha sighed. “I am not looking forward to working for someone who can just…pry into all my secrets at any time. Even if he hasn’t done it already.”

“Says the person who’s hacked every employment record at the Institute.” Tim pulled into a parking space and threw the car into park with an unnecessarily hard jerk of the gearshift.

For just a second, Martin saw the hurt in Sasha’s eyes, but she covered it up quickly. He thought about letting it slide, then decided, on the balance, no. “Hey, Tim, not cool, okay? Just because she looked at mine and Jon’s doesn’t mean she looked at yours too. Or anyone else’s.”

“How did you know I’d looked at Jon’s?” Sasha blurted, obviously startled.

“You called him out for lying about his age on his birthday last year. I figured you’d either read his file and seen his actual birth date or stolen his wallet at some point.” Martin unfastened the safety belt, then reached for his bag. “As for Elias, I have something for that.”

“Is it a projectile or something pointy?” Tim asked.

That Martin chose to ignore; Tim was clearly in a mood. Instead, he pulled two small objects out of his bag and held them out to Tim and Sasha, balanced on the palm of his hand. “Voila. That’s French for ‘ta-da.’”

It did, at least, make Tim crack a smile, and Sasha give that giggle-snort laugh of hers she only made when you truly surprised amusement out of her. She plucked one of them from Martin’s hand and turned it over a couple of times. “What is it?”

“I think it’s technically called an apotropaia, but that’s a pain in the ass to spell, so ‘talisman’ works.” Martin handed the other one to Tim. They were simple, small bits of leather sewn together in a tiny envelope about the size of a matchbook. Martin had spent several evenings patiently tracing the lines Gerry had kindly drawn for him with needle and thread while repeating the same poem over and over, and they were honestly as good as they were going to get. “Basically it’s a protective charm. It’s not…great, and it won’t work if you’re in the same room as him or if he tries really, really hard to get into your head, but it’ll at least keep you safe from…casual browsing, I guess. He’ll have to really try to see what you’re thinking.”

“Do you have one?”

“I’ve got something a bit more permanent.” Martin chose not to mention that it hadn’t been something he’d voluntarily put on himself. “And I know how to…guard my mind, sort of. We’ll help you guys with that, too, but this is a sort of stopgap measure.”

Tim rubbed the leather between his thumb and forefinger. “Is there somewhere special we should put it?”

Martin shook his head. “Nowhere special, just somewhere you won’t lose it. Melanie used to keep hers on a chain around her neck. I’d pin mine to the inside of my shirt.”

Sasha tucked hers into the inner pocket of her jacket. “Remind me not to take this off today…I assume it won’t work if we deliberately provoke him. Or, well—it’s not specifically anti-Elias, right?”

“Yeah, it’s…think of it as mosquito repellent. It creates a layer of protection that keeps things from knowing you’re there if they don’t already know you’re there, but if you stick your hand in a mess of them chances are one’s going to bite you.”

Tim tucked the one Martin had given him into his wallet, which he then returned to his back pocket. Martin figured it was better than nothing. “Right. In we go, then.”

The Archives didn’t look any different than they had before Jane Prentiss had attacked, really. The shelves still bristled with files in all sorts of disarray, a few neat folders still sat on the assistants’ desks, and the bulletin board still hung slightly crooked. The only real difference Martin could spot was that the window in the door leading to the document storage room had been scrubbed sparkling clean.

“Took Tim the better part of a day,” Sasha said, following Martin’s gaze. “The cleaning crew Elias hired did a decent enough job in here, once the repairs were done, but we gave it an extra scrub-down the first day we were back, just to be sure.”

“Thanks, Sash.” Martin unslung his bag and began setting up for the morning.

He was surprised at how easily he was able to slip back into the routine after the time he’d spent away—logging into his laptop, asking Sasha about her weekend, glancing at the files on his desk to see what he needed to prepare for. The only change from usual was that Tim took his mug out of his hands and went to make tea for all of them without a word.

Sasha watched him go. “I don’t think he’s handling this well.”

“He found a dead body in a hidden tunnel underneath his workplace, spent two hours getting grilled by the police over it, and then had to go back to work like nothing happened,” Martin pointed out. “That would be a lot for anyone to handle. Has he talked to you about it?”

“N-no. No, he hasn’t.” Sasha hesitated, then dropped her voice. “Has he…told you about Danny?”

Martin shook his head. His stomach lurched unpleasantly, and something in his mind itched, which made him hold up a hand. “Don’t tell me, please. Don’t…”

Sasha’s eyes widened in understanding. “No, I won’t. Sorry, I shouldn’t have…” She swallowed. “I just—I think maybe that’s all coming up, too.”

“If he won’t talk to you about it—” Martin bit off the rest of the sentence. Instinct told him that bringing up Gerry anywhere in the Institute—cluing Elias in that he was still alive, or alive again, or whatever Gerry’s status was—would be a very bad idea. “I’d ask, but I don’t know how much that would…help.”

“I…oh.” Sasha winced. “I’ll…try talking to him later this week. I wasn’t pushing, honestly.”

“I think right about now, Tim needs a little push.”

Tim came back in with their mugs of tea just as the clock in the corner of Martin’s computer flipped over to 8:00. In the same instant, the phone on Tim’s desk rang. He took the time to set the mugs on everyone’s desks before picking it up on the seventh ring. “Archives, Stoker speaking.” He listened for a moment, face impassive, then simply said, “Right,” before hanging up.

Martin didn’t need any kind of special powers to guess who had been on the other end. “Elias?”

“Yup.” Tim drew out the Y and popped the P like someone launching a rubber band off the end of his thumb. “Wants to see us in his office, immediately.”

Sasha sighed and took a deep swig of her coffee. “I knew I should’ve ordered a double. Let’s get this over with.”

Rosie was in her usual place, typing away on her computer. She’d dyed her hair again in the last few weeks, from a brassy gold to a vibrant merlot, and there were silver ribbons woven through the braids wrapped around the crown of her head. She looked up and offered Martin a warm smile and a cheery greeting, which he returned more than half mechanically before following Tim and Sasha into Elias’ office.

Elias was waiting for them, his hands folded on his desk and a pleasant smile plastered on his face. He, too, looked exactly the same as the last time Martin had seen him, except for the new and startling addition of a cloth patch, held on with a ribbon, covering his left eye. What was startling about it was less its presence than the fact that it was made of silk, and matched his tie.

“Ah. Martin. Welcome back.” Elias gestured to the three chairs in front of him. “Please, have a seat, all of you.” He waited for them to comply, then continued, “I appreciate you coming up first thing, but I feel the sooner we have this…discussion, the better. I’m sure Martin has already let you know that Jon will be out an extra day or two.”

“He mentioned it,” Sasha said with a glance at Martin. “Something about a stab wound?”

Martin nodded, and then suddenly decided to test the waters a little. “He told me what he told the paramedics—that he’d been surprised by a bum while out for a walk.”

Elias’ single uncovered eye gazed at Martin intently, but there was no little press of static—he wasn’t even trying to slip through Martin’s defenses. “And do you believe him?”

“I believe that that’s what he told the paramedics.” Martin stared Elias down like he had nothing to lose. If he wanted things out in the open, he was going to have to bring them out.

The standoff probably lasted no more than a second or two, but it felt like hours before Elias smiled slightly. The smile wasn’t condescending or patronizing or cruelly triumphant; Martin would have preferred any of those. Instead it was sly, almost conspiratorial—a smile that said we’re in on this together, you and I. It made Martin feel even dirtier than the phone call on Friday had.

“I think we understand each other,” Elias said, leaning back in his chair and steepling his fingers. “Whatever Jon ran into that caused his injury, it has a supernatural explanation. And for whatever reason, Jon wishes to keep that information from you.”

Tim started angrily, but Martin shook his head. “No, he’s right, Tim. Jon—you know how he gets. He, he probably thinks if he doesn’t tell us what he’s doing or what he’s looking into, it’ll keep us safe.” He paused, then added slowly, “And…you know, we did just find out Gertrude Robinson was murdered, and not by supernatural means. Jon’s probably worried he’ll be next.”

Sasha’s eyes widened a touch dramatically. “You don’t think he thinks one of us did it, do you?”

“I don’t think so.” Martin let a bit of uncertainty into his voice. “But I think he’s playing his cards close to his chest for now.”

“We’re not letting him get away with that,” Tim growled.

“Of course not,” Elias said. “However…I think it best, for now anyway, if Jon considers Jane Prentiss and…whatever he encountered in Sheffield…to be isolated incidents. Genuine supernatural encounters, by all means, but not connected.”

“But you think they are?” Sasha looked back and forth from Elias to Martin.

“They are,” Martin said, quietly but firmly. “ Remember I told you there was more going on than just a worm infestation? It’s…there’s a lot more out there than you know. And a lot of it is connected. Worse, it’s going to be after the Archivist.”

Elias nodded. “Martin can fill you in on whatever details you wish later—although I strongly suggest you not discuss them in front of Jon. However, I feel it is important that you know, at the very least, the broad strokes of the matter.”

Martin held his tongue through the ensuing explanation. Tim and Sasha played their parts beautifully, asking leading questions to get Elias to confess to more than he’d planned on while concealing how much they knew. Elias was surprisingly honest, although Martin knew exactly how much he was holding back. He also could see all the tiny, tempting little threads he was leaving hanging—threads that Sasha, at the very least, would absolutely start pulling on if he hadn’t already given her a baseline of knowledge.

At last, Elias turned to Martin. “As I said, Martin, you can fill in whatever details about this…situation you feel are necessary later, but remember that too much knowledge can be just as dangerous as too little. And I strongly advise you not to mention any of this to Jon until you’re certain he’s strong enough to handle it.”

The hair on the back of Martin’s neck stood on end. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Martin. Surely you realize that Jon is developing…abilities. And the closer he draws to…our master, the more powerful those abilities will become. But if you tell him too quickly, we both know he will push himself beyond his limits before he’s ready. And that could easily destroy him.”

Martin swallowed the bile that rose into his throat at the words our master, and he also swallowed the urge to protest that Jon would be safer if he knew what he was doing. Elias wasn’t entirely wrong, and anyway, the less he thought Jon knew, the better. “F-fine. Fine. But…you know Jon. He’s going to push himself anyway. I can’t—we can’t just leave him to his own devices. Paranoid or not, we’ll need to keep close to him.”

“Of course,” Elias agreed easily—too easily, Martin thought. He wondered if Elias was encouraging them to hover in hopes it would drive Jon’s paranoia up, make him suspicious that they were watching him too much. “In fact…here.” He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a key—a large, solid, old-fashioned key, black cast iron with surprisingly little rust on its body. He placed it on the desk. “This is the key to the trapdoor leading to the tunnels. I have no doubt that if left to his own devices, Jon would have stolen this and begun exploring them on his own—in fact, I’m not certain he hasn’t already.” He paused, but as Martin did not refute him, he went on. “I suggest one of you gives it to him, perhaps offers to accompany him in his…explorations. Whether he takes you up on it or not, at least you’ll know he’s down there, and you can keep an…eye on him.”

The three assistants looked at one another. Finally, Martin picked up the key, which felt surprisingly cold, and slipped it into his pocket. Elias beamed. “Good! Now, if there are no other questions…”

“Just one.” Something in Tim’s voice made Martin tense, and he looked over to see his friend leaning forward, scowling. “What would you say if I said I quit right now?”

“Tim,” Sasha gasped, the color draining from her face.

Elias didn’t bat an eyelash, or if he did, it was one hidden by the eyepatch. “You can’t.”

“Watch me.”

“Tim, I am being very literal. You cannot quit. You are bound to the Institute now, body and soul. The longer you’re away from it, the weaker you will become. I’m afraid an appointment to the Archives is one for life.” Elias rose. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another meeting in ten minutes. If you have any concerns that need my attention, please send a memo to Rosie and I will be down as soon as possible.”

It was as clear a dismissal as could be, and Martin gently hooked a hand under Tim’s elbow and steered him to the door.

“It’s good to have you back, Martin,” Rosie called, her eyes twinkling merrily as they passed her desk. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“How long has she had a crush on you?” Sasha whispered.

“Shut up.” Tim was being way too calm and docile and Martin was incredibly worried.

He was right to be. The second they were back in the Archives, Tim whirled on him. “Is he right?”

“Tim,” Sasha began.

“No, don’t.” Tim’s eyes almost burned holes in Martin’s. “Is he right? We’re trapped here?”

Martin hesitated. “He’s not as right as he thinks he is.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s—it’s not the Institute. It’s, well, it’s kind of the Eye, but—it’s like I told Jon the day of the attack. Upstairs, we could have walked away no harm done, but once we came down to the Archives…” Martin took a deep breath and decided to take a chance that Elias really did have a meeting and would be focusing on that rather than the three of them. “When I saw your Marks? The ones for the Eye were…they were like chains almost. And I couldn’t tell you where the lock was, if it was anywhere. So yeah, I think at this point we’re tied to the Archives themselves. O-or maybe it’s the Archivist. I dunno, Gertrude outlived all her assistants, so it’s not like there’s anyone around we could ask.”

Tim stared at Martin for a long moment. Abruptly, he turned on his heel and stalked off into the shelves. Martin exhaled heavily and sat down.

“He’ll be fine.” Sasha took her seat as well and downed a large swallow of her probably now cold coffee. “He’s not mad at you, Martin, you know that.”

“I know,” Martin said softly. “Still. I should have told you all sooner.”

“You did try. Like you said, you told Jon during the attack that you didn’t think any of us could walk away now. Not your fault we didn’t press you further on that.” Sasha opened her laptop. “I’ll take him to lunch later and try to get his head out of his ass. Meanwhile, let’s forge ourselves another yard of chain, shall we, Marley?”

Martin smiled slightly at the reference, and got to work.

Tim appeared calmer when he finally emerged from the stacks, but his eyes were slightly reddened and Martin didn’t bring it up. The three of them worked mostly in silence, almost like they’d done before, for the rest of the morning. Finally, lunchtime rolled around and Sasha convinced Tim to come with her.

“You’ll be okay alone, Marto?” Tim asked, sounding surprisingly reluctant as he got up.

Martin gave him a warm smile and a nod. “I’m fine. Brought lunch from home even, so you two take as long as you want. I can work through my lunch if I need to.”

Sasha winked at him before they headed out. Martin watched them go and then turned back to the files he was studying, hoping Tim came back in a better mood. Or at all. It would be just like him to decide to spontaneously take the afternoon off to test Elias’ assertion, or take the rest of the week off and go out of the country.

He was just considering taking five minutes to run to the break room for his sandwich when he heard a voice that, all things considered, he would rather not have heard. “Mr. Blackwood?”

Martin’s hand tightened around his pen, just for a second, before he looked up. He relaxed and hoped his relief didn’t show on his face when he saw that it was the police constable who’d come to get his and Jon’s statements after the attack, but not the detective who’d come with her at the time. “Oh—uh—Officer Hussein, right?”

“Call me Basira. I’m off-duty at the moment.” The officer, who was in plainclothes, looked around. “Where is everybody?”

“Um, Tim and Sasha are at lunch. Jon’s not back yet.”

Basira gave Martin a piercing look. He tried not to squirm. She might not have been like the detective, so tightly bound to the Hunt that Martin didn’t need his eyes to sense it, but she was still a cop and the plain fact of the matter was that most cops were at least Hunt-adjacent if they lasted in the job very long. “Thought Sims was supposed to be back today. That’s what Bouchard said.”

“He was, but he got himself stabbed by a bum over the weekend, so he’ll be out another day or two.” Martin thought about closing his laptop but decided that might make him look guilty. “Um, is there…anything I can help you with?”

Basira studied him. “I guess. You guys do…statements and stuff, right? Let people talk about stuff they’ve run into?”

Martin tensed as the faint prickle of static began building behind his eyes. He tried to sound normal. “Yeah, that’s…pretty much what we do. Is that what you want to do? Make a statement?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Basira tilted her head slightly. “Can you take it, or do I have to wait for Sims?”

“No, we can all take statements, it’s part of the job.” Martin did close his laptop this time and reached for the tape recorder he’d left sitting there, intending to transcribe Gerry’s statement at some point. “Um, tell you what, let’s—let’s go into the back here. It’s a little quieter, just in case someone comes down.”

“That happen often?”

“Some? Mostly it’s students doing research. Bit early in the term for that, though. And sometimes someone from Research will pop down to drop something off.” Martin stood and led Basira towards Document Storage. “Do you have a particular incident in mind you wanted to make your statement about?”

Basira shrugged. “Just kind of want to get it out in general. Mostly all happened since I got Sectioned.”

“Sectioned?”

“Section Thirty-One. That’s what we call it, being Sectioned. It’s…we get these, kind of weird cases? Stuff like you investigate here, only…criminal, not just spooky. There are only a few officers who handle them, and we have to sign that we won’t talk about it with people who don’t. Everybody knows the officers who work those cases, though.”

Martin had to admit, if only to himself, that he was intrigued.

Basira took the seat he directed her to and refused his offer of a cup of tea, then stared at the tape recorder when he switched it on, suddenly looking uncertain. “I really shouldn’t be talking about it on tape.”

“You came to us," Martin pointed out.

“Yeah, just…need to talk about it with someone, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Basira stared at him intently. “I’m breaking the law by talking to you. You understand that?”

Martin nodded slowly. He almost said it wouldn’t be the first time he’d aided and abetted a crime, but he bit that back quickly—off-duty or not, she was still very much a cop, and one who’d dealt with some of the same bullshit the Magnus Institute investigated on an academic basis. Instead he said, “I think so. Some kind of non-disclosure agreement, right?”

“Pretty much.” Basira hesitated. “Do you need my real name?”

“No, we’ve had people give fake names before, or even make anonymous statements,” Martin assured her. “But from what you said, I kind of feel like it wouldn’t do a lot of good, you know? It’s not going to be too hard for people who know the situation to figure out it’s you who told us.” He hesitated. “Look, we take statements from people in your position all the time—you know, people who are talking about stuff they’ve signed agreements not to talk about. I can mark this ‘for internal use only’, and that means that it falls under our NDA, which is like crazy strict, like makes MI-6 look like an open book strict. Nobody outside the Institute is allowed to requisition it.”

Basira raised an eyebrow and folded her arms over her chest. “That’s the best you can do?”

“If you want this to be a formal statement, yeah, that’s the best I can do.” Martin leaned back in his seat and matched her posture. “If you’re that worried about your voice being recognized, I can get you one of our statement forms and you can write it out. One of us will make an audio copy later.”

“I’m not really big on writing. I’m more of a talker.” Basira relaxed, almost unconsciously.

Martin forced himself not to smirk, but inside, he was doing a triumphant dance. He’d never quite had Gerry’s charisma—or Tim’s, although there were professional courtesans without Tim’s charisma—so it was always a point of pride with him when he was able to win someone over. “Weird choice of job, then. Isn’t being a cop like eighty percent paperwork?”

“Not so much. Not since I became Section Thirty-One.”

“I suppose that’s a good place to start.” Martin straightened up and adopted a professional tone. “Statement of Police Constable Basira Hussein regarding her time investigating…strange occurrences as part of Section Thirty-One. Statement taken direct from subject, nineteenth September 2016.” He nodded to her. “Statement begins.”

The familiar static settled against Martin’s skin as Basira began to talk. Her experiences were fairly mundane, as encounters with the Fourteen went, although Martin’s ears pricked up at the mention of the little red leather book found with her first case that had got her Sectioned—at last they had a name to put with that unpleasant fellow Gerry had had to kill in the end. He tried not to flinch when she mentioned Detective Tonner, but it made sense that she’d been Sectioned years before Basira had even joined the force if she was that ingrained in the Hunt. He also wasn’t particularly surprised that she only had two official examples; like she said, these things didn’t leave a lot of evidence. It was why it had always been so hard to prove things to Jon.

“So why is Gertrude’s body considered a para—a weird case?” Martin asked. “Or is it?”

“I mean, we’re investigating it as a murder because that’s what it is, but you guys are basically an automatic Section Thirty-One, so I’ve got almost no help on it,” Basira told him. “Maybe that’s why I wanted to make a statement, you know? I can’t talk to anybody about this stuff, and then I come here, and you’ve got all this…all these people’s experiences listened to and filed away. It’s…I don’t know. I’ve been meaning to come in ever since that callout.”

Martin made sympathetic noises. “So it’s just you and—Detective Tonner?”

“Yeah, but she’s CID. Which I suppose means it’s technically her problem, but she’s also the only detective who’s already sanctioned now, so she’s always busy. I tried making the argument that the murder didn’t seem to connect to any of your ‘paranormal business,’ at least not directly, but nope. I’ve got a shot corpse, three boxes of cassette tapes, and Daisy.”

“Cassette tapes?” Martin repeated. It was the first time he’d heard anything about that. “Like…like statement cassette tapes?”

Basira shrugged. “Maybe. They’ve all got weird labels on them I can’t make heads or tails out of. As far as I know, neither one of us has had time to listen to any of them.”

“Where did you find them? Up here?”

“No, with the body. She was just surrounded by them.”

“Huh.” Martin hadn’t realized Gertrude was recording the statements, but it made sense, he realized. The recorders wouldn’t have been there if she hadn’t been using them.

He leaned over and shut off the recording, since the actual statement was done. “Wonder what she was doing with them down there. O-or do you think—the person who killed her put them with her?”

“Dunno. Answers might be on those tapes.” Basira cocked her head at him thoughtfully. “You really think they might be statements?”

“I-I mean, I never really met her, but she didn’t seem like the type to have a bunch of punk rock tapes or anything.” Martin shrugged. “And you said they had weird labels…they’re probably statements. Jon called her filing system ‘pointlessly awkward’ and he’s not altogether wrong.”

Basira hesitated, glancing at the recorder, but she seemed satisfied it was off and leaned in a bit. “Listen…what if I try to bring you some?”

Martin paused. “What?”

“I mean, I can’t—it’s not like I’m going to be able to bring you a lot of them at once. Probably just one at a time, when I can smuggle them out—they’re technically evidence, you know? But if I bring them to you, you might be able to figure out better than I can why she had them. If they were just random tapes she was hoarding or if she had a purpose for having those specific tapes with her.” Basira gestured to Martin. “You know her system and all that. You can probably figure out if these were the only copies or if the written statements are still on the shelves, and that’s a start, at least. No one but you and me has to know I’m giving them to you.”

There was a catch in this—there had to be. No police officer would willingly just hand over evidence to someone, even if her logic was sound. Then again, she wasn’t as tightly bound in the Hunt as her partner, so maybe she just wasn’t all that loyal to the police either. Whatever the case, Martin had to admit that he was curious about those tapes. If Gertrude had taken them with her, and for a purpose…maybe they would help them to figure out how to stop the Unknowing. Maybe there was a clue in there somewhere.

“All right,” he said. “I won’t say anything to my coworkers about it.” A lie. He was definitely going to tell them. “And if I come up with anything, you’ll be the first to know.”

Basira nodded. “Great. I’ll get you the first one as soon as I can.” She stood up. “Now. How the hell do I get out of this place?”

#ollie writes fanfic #to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest)#tma fanfic #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james #elias bouchard #basira hussein #stabbing mention #stitches mention #police tw #misuse of Beholding powers (implied)#mention of the Hunt

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windowlessatmosphere · 1 year

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Hurts Like Hell

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Summary: Prapai injures himself at one of the few races Sky chooses not to attend. Normally, he'd tell Sky immediately, but he doesn't want to distract his boyfriend during his final exams. He opts for the avoidance route, which leads to a misunderstanding between them.

Sky is his good luck charm. He comes to almost every race now, and Prapai greatly enjoys getting a kiss for luck and a quick “stay safe” each time he gets on the bike. It seems to work, too. He was already the top racer, but his times increase significantly when Sky’s in the crowd, watching him with pride in his eyes. Yes, Sky is his good luck charm, which could explain how Prapai ends up injured at the first race in months that Sky chooses not to attend.

It’s nothing serious, just a mild wrist sprain that means he’ll have to wear a brace for the next two weeks. Lots of resting it and icing it, which wouldn’t normally be a problem, but…Sky. He would usually have told Sky right away, accepting the good with the bad. The good being Sky fussing over him until he’s better, and the bad being Sky getting worried about him racing.

Currently, however, Sky is neck deep in schoolwork, cramming for his final exams, building models, and finishing presentations. He’s thoroughly stressed, and Prapai wants nothing more than to be there 24/7, offering hot meals and neck massages and bullying him into taking naps every so often. But he knows Sky, and beneath his snarky exterior, Sky is, above all, completely and utterly kind. Especially for the people he loves, he can’t help being a caretaker. It’s one of the things Prapai loves most about him. Unfortunately, it also means that Pai absolutely cannot let Sky see him until one of two things happens: his wrist heals, or Sky’s finals are over.

The doctor had given him a probable two weeks until his injury was resolved, aligning almost exactly with when Sky’s barrage of schoolwork should be ending. He figures it shouldn’t be too much of a problem; he can claim a heavier workload, insist that he doesn’t want to bother Sky while he’s cramming, and make sure to keep up a steady stream of calls, texts, and food deliveries. Hopefully, studying will keep Sky too busy to miss him, and when he finally finishes, Prapai will be there with open—and uninjured—arms.

This goes off without a hitch on day one, since Sky texts him to let him know not to wait up, that he’s having an all-night study session at his dorm with his classmates. Prapai breathes a sigh of relief, and mentally reschedules his invented excuse for the next night. Sure enough, he needs it the following evening when Sky calls him after classes end.

“I don’t think I’ll be very good company tonight, P’Pai,” he sounds apologetic, “I have a million things to do, but I’ll make time for dinner. Should I meet you at your place or mine?”

“I’m so sorry, honey.” Pai truly is, he can’t stand to deny Sky anything he wants. “I’m having dinner with a client tonight.” It’s not a lie, technically. He did ask Namtan to schedule him a client dinner, though it could have easily been done another evening if he hadn't needed the excuse.

“That’s okay,” Sky replies easily, which somehow makes Prapai feel worse than if he’d complained. His Sky is so understanding. “It’ll give me a little more time to cram.”

“Don’t forget to eat,” Pai responds immediately, very aware of the way Sky will sometimes get wrapped up in his projects and neglect his basic human needs, like food and sleep. “I’ll order you something,” he decides, knowing that Sky will likely forget without the reminder of someone knocking on his door.

“You’re so good to me, P’Pai,” Sky teases him. Prapai can practically hear the smile in his voice, and it makes his heart ache a little to think of going two weeks without it.

“You only deserve good things,” Pai tells him earnestly. Sky breathes out a laugh at that, and it lifts his heart up a bit. They go back and forth until Sky reaches his dorm, Pai refusing to hang up until Sky air-kisses him through the phone.

He orders delivery, giving Sky’s dorm as the address and frowning a little when he thinks about Sky eating alone. Sitting through the client dinner is torture, albeit one he inflicted on himself. He can’t stop thinking about Sky, and pulls his phone out halfway through to check and see if he’s eaten. Luckily, he has, which makes Pai feel a little better about not being there to eat with him.

That night, he sleeps in an empty bed, hugging a pillow and wishing it smelled more like Sky. He wakes up groggy and stays that way long enough that Namtan brings him a second cup of coffee without being asked. He knows Sky has an exam that afternoon, so he sends him a good luck text with a long string of kisses. He gets a thank you with a heart emoji in response, which makes him smile. He clicks on Sky’s contact picture so that it fills up the screen, heart twisting a little at how widely he’s smiling in the photo. He slams his phone down guiltily when Namtan enters his office, causing her to narrow her eyes in suspicion.

He texts Sky preemptively this time, wanting to avoid the feeling that came along with saying no to him.

Prapai Going to be writing performance reviews all evening. Might have to tomorrow as well. Don’t forget to eat, I’ll order you something. ♥️♥️♥️

And he does need to write the performance reviews. They’re due in only a few days, and he’s specifically put them off so he has a valid reason to stay at the office. Somehow, the knowledge that he’s not technically lying to Sky is not making him feel any better about it. He takes a deep breath and reminds himself that it’s only for two weeks, and that it’s for Sky, so he’ll be able to focus on his finals.

That evening and the next are terrible. He can’t focus and Namtan is clearly frustrated with him, having to guide him back to the reviews constantly. He can’t blame her, if he didn’t need to avoid Sky, he wouldn’t want to stay after hours either. He makes a mental note yet again to up her year-end bonus. She basically keeps his life together, he doesn’t want her looking for another job.

Sky calls him the next day, apologizing profusely because he knows they haven’t seen each other in days, and they’ve both been so busy, but…he’d already promised Sig and Rain to spend that evening helping them study. Prapai tells him that it’s okay, he understands, and tries not to let any note of relief enter his voice.

“Once you’re done with your exams, we’ll see each other every day,” he promises, though he’s not sure who he’s reassuring more, Sky or himself. Prapai stares at his phone for fifteen minutes after Sky hangs up, only coming out of his reverie when Namtan enters.

“Khun Pai?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll get right on it,” he waves her off distractedly.

“Is everything okay with Nong Sky?” He doesn’t answer right away, and she presses on. “You haven’t seen him all week, and you’ve clearly been distracted. Are you two fighting?”

“We’re not fighting,” he sighs. He almost wishes they were, then he could be trying as hard as he could to make it up to Sky, and maybe actually get to see him. He shakes the thought away as soon as it comes. As much as he misses Sky’s face, he wouldn’t want to see it frowning.

“If you tell me you’ve lost interest—” she starts, her tone far too heated to be speaking to her boss. Prapai appreciates it, though, loves that the people in his life all practically adopted Sky as soon as they met him, Namtan no exception.

“How could I? It’s Sky,” he counters, and her hackles come back down. “He doesn't know about my wrist,” he admits after a beat.

“Then tell him!” Her tone is completely exasperated.

“I don’t want him to worry during his finals,” he whines, and something like realization comes over her face. She shakes her head at him incredulously. She doesn’t roll her eyes, but it’s a close thing.

“You don’t think this will worry him?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “Staying at the office late with strange excuses? Not seeing each other for almost a week?”

“He’s busy with exams,” Prapai explains. “I was hoping he wouldn’t have time to think about it too hard.” This time she does roll her eyes.

“You’re being ridiculous. You should just go see him and explain yourself,” she says firmly.

“I will,” he agrees. “After finals.”

She spends that day and the next giving him dirty looks, though she still keeps him in line, always making sure they stay on track. That afternoon, he asks her to make sure he has a meeting that evening. She stands directly in front of his desk and glares daggers at him while she makes the call.

He calls Sky to let him know. This time, Sky is quiet for a few moments before he speaks.

“I know we’ve both been busy lately,” he starts, and Pai hums in agreement. “But…we’re okay, right? You’d tell me if we weren’t?”

“Of course we’re okay,” Prapai affirms immediately. He doesn’t feel guilty about saying it. It’s the truth, and he never wants Sky to doubt it. Something in his voice must resonate with Sky, because Pai can hear the sigh of relief on the other end of the phone.

“Good, I’m glad,” he replies, and he sounds it. “I know things are crazy right now, and it’ll be fine soon, but…I miss you.” It sounds like a confession, and Prapai grips the armrest of his desk chair tighter, to keep himself from running straight to wherever Sky is at that moment.

“I miss you, too,” he returns easily, and if there’s a roughness to his voice, he can’t be faulted for that.

That night is the worst one yet. He hardly sleeps at all. He can’t stop hearing Sky’s voice in his head, asking if they’re okay, saying that he misses him. They’re only halfway through the two weeks, and Prapai’s already crumbling this badly.

He spends the whole morning trying to think of an excuse for that night. He’s solely used work as an excuse up to this point, and thinks about claiming Phan or Plerng needs help. It’s a definite risk, though, they both adore Sky and always invite him along to everything. Plus, they’re both nearly as stubborn as Prapai. If he told them what he was doing and they didn’t agree, they’d just call Sky right up and tell him. His mother’s out, too, considering she practically worships the ground Sky walks on. She’s right to, of course, and it just proves where Pai gets his good taste from, but it presents the same risks as telling one of his younger siblings.

Eventually, he settles on another work excuse, figuring he can get Namtan to schedule him something before he talks to Sky later that day. This plan is promptly put to an end when Sky calls him instead. He hesitates for a second before picking up, unwilling to let it go to voicemail.

“P’Pai?”

“Hi, honey. How’s your studying going?” He hopes he can get Sky off on a tangent, that might keep him from trying to make plans.

“It’s fine,” Sky’s voice is even, but something’s not quite right about it. “Are you busy tonight?” his tone is light, but there’s a slight threat hidden under the question.

“I—” Prapai stops himself before he can continue. He doesn’t have plans tonight, not yet. He at least hasn’t outright lied to Sky since he started avoiding him, and it’s not a line he especially wants to cross. “No,” he finally answers.

“Good,” Sky’s tone doesn’t change. “Let’s have dinner.”

Prapai’s mind races for a few seconds before landing on a plan. Say yes now, have Namtan schedule something, then call and say something came up after all. Text if he’s feeling particularly cowardly.

“Okay,” he agrees. “I’ll see you there.”

“Where?”

“What?”

“Where will you see me? We never said.”

“Your place,” Prapai responds after a beat of silence. It doesn't matter, he knows, he’s going to cancel anyway. There’s a long stretch of silence over the phone, and it feels like agony. After what feels like an eternity, he gets a response.

“You’re not coming, are you?” Sky sounds like he’s about to cry and that—that’s…unacceptable.

“Baby—” Prapai starts, not knowing where he’s going. It doesn’t matter, because Sky cuts him off anyway.

“I need you to be there,” he says firmly. “Okay? I’m asking you to show up. For me.”

“Yes,” he answers before he can even think about it, crumbling without a second thought. “Of course I will.”

“Good,” Sky sounds numb, unsure, and Prapai hates it, hates himself a little for making Sky sound that way. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“You will,” Prapai promises, trying to convey in his tone how much he means it. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, P’Pai,” Sky says, and hangs up.

Prapai reevaluates. He’s miscalculated severely. Sky’s not only noticed he’s acting differently, but he seems to be jumping to the worst possible conclusions. The plan clearly needs massive restructuring. No more avoiding Sky, he decides, not when it makes him feel like this. He’ll take off the wrist brace whenever Sky’s around and wear it the rest of the time. It might take a little longer to heal, but it’ll be worth it to make sure Sky’s happy and confident in their relationship. In him.

He follows through on the new plan, leaving the brace in his office and showing up at Sky’s fifteen minutes early, food and flowers in hand. Sky seems hesitant when he opens the door, but smiles at the flowers and full on laughs at the way Prapai plasters himself against Sky’s front as soon as he takes them. Pai wraps himself around Sky as best he can while still holding the food and walks them backwards into Sky’s dorm. Sky distengles himself from Pai’s arms long enough to find a vase for the flowers, and Pai takes the moment to set all the food down. As soon as Sky finishes with the flowers, Prapai’s clinging to him again, kissing him deeply in an attempt to make up for lost time.

They eventually end up eating, sitting on the floor and talking as they do so, catching up on everything they’ve missed in the last week. By the end of the meal, Sky’s relaxed and smiling, and Prapai’s glowing with the knowledge that his new plan is working out much better than the last. Sky pulls him to the couch and he follows easily, warm and comfortable and secure.

“So,” Sky starts, and his tone somehow sounds like a warning. “I called P’Tan.” Prapai freezes up immediately, which might not be a great idea for his plausible deniability, but at this point, that’s probably a lost cause.

“Okay,” Prapai replies slowly, wanting to be sure of where Sky’s going with this.

“I know you’ve been asking her to schedule things in the evening,” Sky continues. “Tell me why?” he asks, so gently that Prapai cracks immediately.

“I’m sorry,” he can hear a little desperation in his own voice. “It’s not what you think,” he insists, then immediately regrets his choice of words. It only makes him sound more guilty.

“So tell me what it is,” Sky coaxes.

“I sprained my wrist!” Prapai blurts out. Judging by the look on Sky’s face, that wasn’t what he was expecting to hear. “And…I didn’t want you to worry. During your finals.” Sky’s face quickly morphs from confused to exasperated. He buries his face in his hands.

“P’Pai?” his voice is muffled.

“Yes, honey?” Prapai asks nervously, already feeling like he’s in trouble.

“You. You sprained your wrist? And you didn’t want me to be stressed?” He lifts his head back up. “So instead, you avoided me for an entire week and gave me flimsy excuses?”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“P’Pai!” Sky’s eyes are round now. “I thought you were mad at me! Or you wanted to break up, or—” He breaks off and Prapai’s breath hitches as he shakes his head.

“No, no, never, I’m sorry, baby, I am, really,” he starts babbling. “I just wanted you to be able to focus on your finals.” Sky lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“As much as I don’t like seeing you hurt, this was way more worrying, P’Pai.”

“I’m sorry,” Prapai repeats.

“Don’t do it again,” Sky warns. “Just talk to me next time, okay?” Prapai is nodding before he finishes his sentence, grasping Sky’s hand in his.

“That doesn’t hurt?” Sky asks, gesturing to where Pai is gripping his hand.

“It’s the other wrist,” Pai holds out his left hand. Sky gingerly wraps his fingers around it, turning it over as if inspecting it for damage.

“What did the doctor say?” he questions.

“Lots of ice and rest, and I have to wear a brace for two weeks.”

“Where’s the brace?” Sky furrows his brow and sets his hand down.

“I took it off to come here,” Prapai shifts, guilty.

“Where is it now?” Sky sounds exasperated, giving him the same look he does whenever Prapai says something he deems ridiculous.

“I left it in my office?” It comes out as a question instead of a statement.

“Okay,” Sky hums, unfolding his legs and standing up from the sofa, nodding towards the door.

“Where are we going?”

“Your office. You should be wearing your brace.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine for just one night, sweetheart.”

“P’Pai!"

“...Nevermind, let’s go.”

#love in the air #prapaisky #prapai lita #sky lita #lita fanfic #prapaisky fanfiction

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