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morallyinept · 3 days

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Home - A Joel Miller One Shot

Summary: Joel returns home to you.

Pairing: Post Outbreak Joel Miller x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader, except that reader has hair and is prone to freckling in the sun. These are very small details briefly mentioned.)

Word Count: 1.6k

Scoville Smut Rating: None, it's fluff. You're safe.

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: Nothing too heavy. Some angst and longing.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: I've had some terrible writer's block recently and the new season 2 Joel reveal has inspired me this evening. Thanks, Joel! 🥰

MAIN MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

The swing hangs at one end of the rickety porch, a timeless piece that has seen many seasons and heard many secrets in your time here in the Jackson commune.

Crafted from sturdy oak, it’s varnished and smooth in places when you run your fingers over the armrests that curve gracefully at each end.

You remember his own fingers gliding over the wood as he sanded it, splintered and calloused, and yet strangely soft in the middle of his large palms when you’d rubbed cooling aloe salve into them after, whilst he'd planted a line of tantalising kisses on your shoulder and remarked on how freckled you’d gotten in the sun that afternoon.

You don't remember much else after that as his kisses had engulfed you wholly.

The thoughts cause splinters in your stomach lining and you squeeze your eyes shut, willing them not to creep into the jagged fissures of your hollowed bones. But it’s futile. The memories of him are everywhere you look.

Your gaze drifts to the haphazard wooden flower boxes, overflowing with vibrant blooms and herbs.

It was Joel who had planted them, his hands deftly tending to each delicate stem, leaf and petal as if they were his own children.

You can picture him kneeling beside the boxes, soil dusted over his denim clad thighs, his brow furrowed in concentration as he carefully watered each plant.

You think about the bed you climb into each night, noting the void in the space beside you where Joel's warmth and his presence once lingered. You can almost see the imprint of his broad body on the mattress, the indentation where he'd slept night after night with you curled into his body, leg resting over his hip.

You can still feel the heat from him as you'd wake in the night to find him practically draped over you.

The seat on the swing is wide and deep, designed for comfort and for sharing, for cuddling together on warm, balmy nights under the fraying, knitted blanket with wonky stitch lines.

You still hold it up to your nose, inhaling the last ebbs of his scent that haven’t been blown out the fibres fully by the breeze. But it’s fading fast and you’re worried that one day it’ll be gone forever, just like he is.

Strung along the railing and woven through the latticework, tiny lights glimmer around you like a thousand stars brought down to earth on glittery strings. Each delicate bulb emits a soft, warm glow, creating a cascade of golden light that flickers gently with the whispers of the night.

The cushions you’re sitting against, plump and inviting, have seen their share of tears. You’ve clung to them during sleepless nights, seeking the comfort they no longer fully provide. The smaller pillows, in warm tones of orange and gold, have been hugged so close to your chest as if they can somehow bridge the chasm of his absence.

The muted hues on the porch that echo the colours of the forest surrounding your home beyond the fences, mirror your fading hope, each day a little dimmer than the last.

You tell yourself that perhaps tonight will be the night, that he’ll emerge from the shadows like an ethereal spectre back to you, but you know, somewhere in your heart that’s been broken beyond full repair, that it’s wishful thinking. A dream with its shiny ribboned tether drifting so close, yet so far out of your reach.

You’ve often found yourself on the empty porch, night upon night, your heart heavy with the belief that he’ll return. Waiting... always waiting.

They've stopped coming now, stopped checking in on you. Stopped bringing baked goods, like they do when someone passes away. Leaving you to wilt and exist in your own bubble of enduring sadness and melancholy.

They said you should move on, like it's an easy thing to do. And a small part of you thinks that perhaps you should at least try. It's been too long.

You’d heard the rumours, whispers in the commune, of the men and women who never make it back, of the dangers that swallow them whole out there - even the strongest aren’t immune.

Joel, like many in the commune, had volunteered for supply runs, journeys that had become increasingly dangerous. The surrounding areas fraught with peril - raiders, infected, treacherous terrain, and unpredictable weather. Every time someone leaves for a run, there’s no guarantee they'll return.

You knew this. You knew the risk. So did Joel. The supply runs are a lifeline for the community, but they come with a heavy cost. Each departure is shadowed by uncertainty, each return a fleeting relief.

When Joel didn’t come back from his last run, the fear that had always lingered at the edge of your mind about him embarking on them, consumed you whole.

You knew the risks he faced, had heard the stories of those who never made it back from his own weary lips of close calls, and had seen the grief in the eyes of others in the commune who had lost their loved ones.

You were one of them now.

The days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and the silence grew louder. Every creak of the porch, every rustle of leaves heightened your anxiety, making your heart race with the hope that it might be him, only to be crushed by the realisation that it wasn’t.

It never was.

Your nights were spent waiting on the porch swing that Joel built for you both to spend balmy nights in the summer drinking tangy lemonade and being cuddled up in his strong arms.

And he isn’t here doing that with you anymore and you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to move on, or accept it.

You try to hold onto the minute flicker of hope that remains, but it’s fading fast, leaving you with nothing but the hollow ache of loss and the fear of what the future might hold without him.

Each day without word, each night without his voice, has chipped away at your hope leaving you empty and lost.

Tonight is no different; and when you find yourself dozing into the late night on the swing in a routine you can't seem to break, the cool breeze stirring you awake, you resolve to go to bed and spend another night alone reaching out longingly to his side of the mattress, wondering where he is.

You stand to go inside, shaking off the blanket, and a flicker of movement catches your eye through the shadows and startles you.

You freeze, your breath catching in your throat when you hear your name called softly.

You visibly pinch yourself, the sharp pain registering that you’re not dreaming.

There he is, standing where he used to stand, the same but different. His silhouette is a familiar yet foreign sight, the longer hair and the weary lines on his face telling stories of the time and trials he’s endured out there.

Your heart pounds as a flood of emotions surge through you - disbelief, hope, anger, relief.

Your hands are trembling. Your heart is hammering so loudly now that you can't hear yourself think or even call out his name on a broken chord. Your legs barely support your weight, and for a moment you feel time stop completely, it's drag heavy agaisnt your skin.

Joel stands at the edge of the porch, the soft glow of the fairy lights casting a gentle light on his familiar face. His hair, longer and wilder than when he left, brushes against the top of his shoulders in swept back curls, seeming more grey and dishevelled.

The breeze seems to whisper through it as if sharing foreboding secrets from his time away. He looks different, weathered and sunken in his stature. And you're harshly reminded that it’s been over a year since he’d walked away from this home, from you.

"You're back," you whisper, your voice breaking as tears stream down your cheeks.

He steps tentatively up on the porch, a low groaning creak rumbles out from under his boot.

You resolve crumbles, and you rush to him, throwing your arms around his neck.

He holds you tightly, his own tears mingling with yours.

The pain of the past year, the nights you cried yourself to sleep, the days filled with endless worry, all dissolve in the warmth of his tight embrace, and your heartbeats meld together as one under the gloaming lights around you.

Your fingers grip into the rough material of his jacket, and you inhale deep. He smells earthy, like the fragrance of fresh rain on dry earth. It carries with it the essence of the forest, of pine needles and damp soil, mingling with the crispness of skeletal autumn leaves.

"I thought you were dead," you sob into his shoulder, the words releasing a year's worth of grief and longing.

"I know," he murmurs, his voice choked with guilt. "I never stopped tryin’ to get back to ya."

His words carry the warmth of the Southern sun, the gentle drawl of his accent wrapping around the ruggedness of his tincture giving it a raw, unfiltered quality. It’s a voice that speaks of home and belonging, of wide-open spaces and endless horizons. Of survival and repentance.

It’s a reminder that he’s real, that he’s here, standing before you, alive and well. And yet strangely frail; wounded deeply by the experience of the outside world.

And as you reach out to him, your fingers brushing against his roughened cheek peppered with his greying beard, you know in that moment that Joel is truly home.

“What happened to you, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened out there?” You fire off clumsily, your voice shaky and breathless until Joel simply looks at you with those molten, sad brown eyes and you finally breathe.

"I'm okay, I ain’t hurt," he replies softly, his voice thick with emotion. His eyes never leave yours.

“I thought I'd lost you,” your voice is nothing more than a croaked whimper. “You’re really here?” You question dreamily, sinking back into his arms.

"M'here."

As you stand together on the porch, bathed in the gentle glow of the fairy lights, you finally feel a sense of peace wash over you.

And almost as if he can sense your bewilderment, your fear and frustration - your relief - Joel runs his hand through your hair, caressing your skull and cradles you closer into his chest. Alleviating your fears and confirming the unwavering truth presented to you, that he is in fact here. He’s home.

"M’home, darlin’."

Joel Miller has come back home to you.

Thank so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little story. If you did, I'd really appreciate a re-blog so others can enjoy it too. Thankies! 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #joel miller tlou #joel miller fluff #joel miller the last of us #the last of us #jett's writing

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obeymematches · 2 days

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I saw one of your stories and I got immediately interested by one of them, then I had an idea more like a head Canon maybe-

So you and Solomon are making a potion for class one of the brothers came into the classroom and a big explosion happened one of you and the brothers didn't brace for impact and then suddenly your future child is there I just want to see everybody's reaction or maybe what will they do in that situation (sorry it's a bit weird but yeah that's all I came up with in my head) ^^"

henlo!!! So you sent in this ask almost 3 years ago (may 20th 2021) I'm so so so sorry i didn't reply sooner, you're probably over this by now 😅 but i felt inspired to write it today so here we go 🫶

🌸Meeting your future kid with him🌸

GN MC

Okay so this time Solomon has some homework to do... sending this kiddo back without messing with the future is gonna take time. Until then you must take care of them! You are the parent afterall!!

Lucifer: 4 months old

Not gonna lie it took him the longest to realize it's YOUR baby WITH him! In his defense, babies can look a bit weird. The baby definitely has your mouth, but his eyes and hairline. He didn't see many infant in his life so this is all new! You can literally see his heart melt when the little baby smiles at him! Shares his part with pride, changes diapers, carries the baby around....just take over when the baby is fussy.

MC I can't wait to meet the baby again... I miss them already, isn't that funny?

Mammon: 3yrs old

Your toddler immediately recognized you and Mammon. You and him looked at each other with an awkward stare, his face is as red as it can be- you are definitely not ready for kids!!! The fact that around 3 years old kids looove disobeying on purpose doesn't help. Mammon gets the hang of it though, he looves his little troublemaker! They could play all day long.

I wanna see ya grow up little man- I looove being your dad!

Levi: 8yrs old

Again, the kis recognizes you and him. Right now he keeps telling you he isn't ready for kids and might never be; same as you!! So how did this happen??? Do you must have one in the future??? Thankfully with an 8yrs old you can already have a conversation, play games with, etc so by the time it's over he grows very fond of them.

MC... I think I have changed my mind- having a kid is a lot like having a small best friend!

Satan: 16yrs

Ah. Your child is as upset as any 16 yr old would be in this case, leaving you and Satan no time to think about the fact you made this person. He does his absolute best to stay calm and see things from the kid's POV, but man is it difficult when your teen keeps lying about important stuff, escapes the house as soon as you lower your guard, fights with anyone over and over who doesn't do as they want despite being so so so sensitive... it is tiring.

I wish I could see what they were like as a little kid... why did I think teens were easy?!

Asmo: 13 yrs

Okay he is very quick at recognizing his own kid; he has YOUR and HIS face memorized. Starts sobbing when he realizes what this means; you are going to be parents!! The thought of loving someone sooo much just sends him over the edge. He buys everyone matching clothes, plans so many vacations you are rarely at home, surprisingly good at answering questions your little one has. (Very comforting, builds their confidence as much as he can!!)

MC, how do I look as a parent? You still love me?

Beel: 1 yr old

Okay, it was obvious the baby is a perfect mix of you two; his eyes are definitely yours though! Beel finds this job to be super important so he spends almost all day with the baby. They play peek-a-boo, he helps your kid to learn to walk and eat with hands, carries them on his shoulder when they get tired. Honestly he doesn't want to let them go back.

MC... I think we should have at least 3 kids!"

Belphie: 6yrs

Okay, he never would've thought he'd have a kid with you; first, you are dating someone else right now and second, he doesn't really like kids. So this one's gonna be complicated. His face turns red though as he has always liked you but you made it clear he is not really your type. Co-parenting brought you much closer; you could see how calm he can stay when he wants to, and how smart he actually is especially when the 6 years old doesn't stop with their questions. How it continues after the kid is back in the future is up to you babe!

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darkwolf989 · 2 days

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can i request headcanons for being Valentino and Vox's daughter ? Thank you and stay hydrated ♡

GREAT Request!

I’ve never actually written something like this before, so forgive me. I’ve spent much more time thinking about Valentino’s daughter than Vox’s daughter and have written more for the former, so obviously Val’s daughter is much more developed. This is more of a sketched out list, so forgive any tense issues or grammar errors! Also disclaimer: these can change, evolve and adapt with each passing story <3

If any of these headcanons catch your eye, feel free to drop a request! I’m always taking them- this month has just been incredibly busy. I appreciate the reminder to stay hydrated, I needed it!!

Looking forward to the summer when I have a bit more time for all of the writing things! In the meantime, keep them coming. Whenever I get a request, it goes right into a google doc. Most of the time when inspiration hits, content gets scribbled into that google doc until I have time to edit and sort it out…so just because there is a delay, doesn’t mean it won’t get done! And inspiration hits in the most random of places <3

Headcanons for being Valentino’s daughter (whose mom is half angel wife from OTO)

-For the most part you grew up normal (well as much as you can with a living in the V tower)

-There was always someone there to snuggle or play with, and always someone willing to put a bandaid on a boo boo

-Your Daddy gave the best snuggles and hugs and you took over your parents bedroom until you were six

-Even after, you insisted at least one adult lay down with you until you feel asleep until you hit your teenage years

-When you’re sick you go to Valentino first, which is a good thing because of all the gross things little kids do, he handles it the best. You once overheard him compare a sick toddler to a drunk adult.

-When you’re little little, you love listening to your family’s heartbeat. That feeling of safety along with a warm bottle usually puts you right to sleep.

-Vox was your primary babysitter, and it wasn’t unusual to fall asleep in his arms, under his desk or even in his chair while he worked. He often conducted meetings and held you while you slept.

-You’re known for sneaking out of bed and more than once you’ve been found asleep on the couch and carried back to bed.

-You secretly think your Dad makes the best pancakes but you don’t want to hurt your Uncle Vox’s feelings

-Neither Mommy nor Daddy let you in their studios

-You were always welcome in Velvette or Vox’s studio as long as you followed directions and kept away from Vark and the rest of your Uncles sharks

-Your Dad gave you no shortage of love and affection

-Though it was really your Uncle Vox that spoiled you

-You were never allowed to visit Valentino at work, and on the rare occasions you did end up on the fourth floor, he quickly escorted you away

- it wasn’t until you were in your teens that you made a connection between your fathers job and his role in the porn and drug industry

-You never questioned where babies came from, and all four of your guardians insisted on calling body parts by their proper names. All of these things were fact and nothing more.

-The doctors office was never scary, and all appointments were handled either at home or in Valentino’s studio well after hours.

-The first time you got your period, you freaked until your father calmed you down.

-Annoyingly, you had to wear a location tracker at all times. Valentino refused to put one under your skin without your consent, even for your own safety, so when you started to leave the tower to go to school, Vox created a special tracking watch just for you

-One time you got fed up with your teacher and called Uncle Vox on your watch to tell him to come get you. He does.

-Being Vox’s niece, you learned to hack that watch when you turned thirteen. After all you never could go anywhere without someone being on your ass. All you wanted was privacy.

-When you did eventually start dating, Valentino insisted on meeting each date when they came to pick you up, regardless of their gender. If he didn’t like them, you didn’t go out. You suspected he showed his gun on more than one occasion.

-And there were more than a few times you didn’t get to go out.

-You tried to get a fake ID at sixteen when you started to rebel. Unfortunately for you between your father and your uncle every single bar and club was controlled by them and the first time you tried to use it was your last time. And you got grounded. Big time.

-Once you turned twenty one though, all bets were off. As much as you didn’t like that your family knew all, it was sort of comforting to know that wherever you were, you were protected. And by that point, you were doing pretty okay.

-The first time you intentionally tried one of Valentino’s drugs was the last time.

-You still went to school every day, but Valentino had no issue with you taking a mental health day when needed

-You had your appendix out when you were younger

-Homework needed to be done before anything else, every single night. Your usual routine was to come in, go right to Uncle Vox’s office and do your homework with him. He keeps a stash of kid friendly snacks in his bottom drawer, and promises to keep the cheese itz coming if you don’t tell your dad.

-You hate that Vox makes you try each problem three times before asking for help, but you respect his method because you respect him

-The food kept in the house was generally high quality and healthy. Not to say there isn’t junk food, but the adults eat pretty healthily and by default as such so do you.

-When you stop eating however, in a desperate effort to look like one of the model’s in your Aunt Velvette’s magazine, your father catches you very, very quickly.

-You struggle with balancing the angelic and demonic parts of you. This shows up hard in the teenage years with instances of ED’s, Depression, Anxiety, self harm, poor decision making etc.

-Valentino definitely brought you home from his clubs on more than one occasion.

-You got alcohol poisoning/overdosed a few times. Thankfully, Valentino was always there to rescue you. The final time it happened, the expression on your father’s face ensured you never crossed that line again.

-When you self harm for the first time, it’s Vox who catches you.

-They will not allow you to hurt yourself, but they do their best to support and love you through every single mistake

-You demand perfection of yourself far, far more than they expect of you

Headcanons for being Vox’s daughter

-Vox tried to put a chip in your arm the day you were born, but Valentino took it out.

-Intelligent? You could hack any device by the time you were ten. It was a struggled for Vox to keep ahead of your nonsense.

-Stubborn as all heck. If you want something you’re gonna get it. Period.

-You had coffee in your hand by the time you were thirteen. As much as it freaked your father out, your Uncle Valentino helped you figure out the right cream/sugar/coffee ratio

-Vox shooed all questions about womanhood to Velvette/Valentino/Wife and although he tries hard to understand and learn about the female body, you’re well aware he’s uncomfortable with it. Thankfully, your Uncle Valentino reassures you it's alright.

-You are not at all into sports, though Valentino does force you to play on a team after catching you in one of his clubs. You were not terrible, and he does not have mercy on you.

-Your Dad keeps a careful eye on your grades, and forces you to try each problem three times before asking for help

-The day your Uncle Valentino caught you working in his club was the most embarrassing moment of your life

-You definitely went through an emo phase

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megbanned · 2 days

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How do you have so much brain power to create an au? Like tell me your ways😭😭😭

I like to write x'D!, create or recreate stories sometimes based on the main story and from there explore different ways in which it could have happened

Or simply think "what if this happened to this character?" - Mini Uzi

Or "What would the characters look like if they were opposites, either in personality or gender?" - Evil!AU / GenderSwap AU

"What would happen if the story took place in the Sonic universe?" - MD Sonic AU

Sometimes small concepts can create big things o:!

or also by exploring different themes you can create more things, like imagine- Pirates/Medieval AU, Fantasy AU, Steampunk, Mutants, Animals, what if the core didn't explode or if the exoplanet wasn´t cold- Or something more drastic would be to recreate the entire story like "what if Doll was the Main character", mold it to your liking and tell it in a different way, or take movies, games and other series as inspiration. There is a lot to get ideas from, I think sometimes it can be scary because you may not know how to represent a character but you have to try, see what can come out of it, sometimes you have to investigate and when you do this you can also get inspired

Maybe creating an entire AU can be… something difficult to think about? but sometimes you can start with something different, like maybe a new episode? something like "these things happen between this chapter and this chapter", or "this happens before the pilot chapter"

Or something much simpler where HCs can be applied, something like "this is what the characters do when they are off screen", or "this character should have done this"

Sometimes… you just have to explore different themes xD

#asks!

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jeongonion · 2 days

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I Will

Pairing: Alexandra Cabot/Casey Novak

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 5090

Note: this is my first time writing a fic so please tell me how to improve and enjoy! (title and story are both inspired by Mitski's song)

Alex had profusely denied Casey's invitation for dinners the longer she's gotten into the sex crimes bureau. Alex also hadn't noticed the absence of Casey simply because of the pending cases she's about to prosecute, it would be unfair if each of them didn't have her dedicated attention. Could you blame a gal if she has this unhealthy behavior of sticking her nose to the far end until she loses herself? And besides, the people of New York could really be cutting her some slack if they could only keep their hands to themselves.

She keeps going back and forth into Casey's last message that she left on read a week ago, asking for lunch together. It was already in the middle of the night when she noticed she stayed too long in her office, only noticed the metal, that's barely as long as her thumb, in the corner of her pocket when she was looking for the key card of her own apartment. Uttered a curse when it dawned who would slip the key in her formal attire. It was the same royal blue blazer she wore after spending the night at Casey's two weeks ago.

Knowing it was an ungodly hour and Casey's probably far too deep in her sleep hadn't crossed her mind until she was slipping the same key she held onto on her long walk to the said woman's door. She was already too far gone when she even realized she should've at least changed into flats before she came down to see her girlfrie—is that what we are to each other?

Alex asks herself as she stares at Casey's sleeping form, taking her time, just appreciating the favors softball does to one's body.

Casey developed being a light sleeper after incidents with an ex, but that kind of topic was not something she would open up in this stage of their relationship, at least, not yet. "Al?" Too awake to go back to sleep now but too sleepy to even form the full two syllables the name of the person she was calling out to.

Casey wonders if Alex knew why she was laying there, unmoved like a log when she held her from behind, hopes that Alex was some kind of psychic that can get through the depths of her mind and know that she was afraid that a single nudge would make her disappear into thin air, as if she was having delusions like Charlie had been experiencing because admittedly, her time with homicide cases are driving her a bit insane.

The said woman wondered why she didn't like how others refer to her by just a syllable alone, but with Casey, it'll suffice. "Just me." Alex whispered, her guilt resurfacing to the thought of leaving her hanging. The last thing she wants to do is make Casey think she'd only want her for the benefits of her company, yet her actions prove the opposite.

Alex heard her hum, knowing it was to let her know Casey acknowledges her existence. "I'm sorry..."

Casey's system jolted mainly for hearing Alexandra Cabot apologizing, a quarter of it was because of the cold lips pressed on her nape, but she remained unwaveringly placid when she replied. "Whatever for?"

Alex mumbled her apologies, the younger latter wasn't sure if she was embarrassed or if she was lulling her back to sleep. "I should've at least let you know why I wasn't able to go out with you..." Or maybe she was just as exhausted as she. Casey blindly reached behind to pat Alex's hair to let her know she appreciates the exhibited honesty of her words.

"I understand." And truly, she does. Still, they weren't in a fully committed relationship, Casey couldn't ask her of such a thing. But even so, she wanted to let Alex know her actions had made her feel, no matter how unintentional, abandoned. Her thoughts came to a halt when she felt her nape getting wet.

With her new case, it wasn't easy to ignore that her life might truly be in danger this time. "I was scared that if people saw me with you," Alex released a shuddering breath. "they'd come for you to get through me." She managed to finish off her rambling mess of an excuse as she tried to shrug off the images of seeing Casey appearing in the missing persons' reports or handling a newly staged case with Casey as the victim or television broadcasting an attack in Casey's apartment or her cold body laying at Melinda's table or—

"Oh Alex..." The blaring noise in her head blocked out any possible sound of Casey turning to face her, her fingernails digging into the duvet protecting her beloved from freezing from the night breeze. Casey untangled them from the material ever so gently, guiding her now flat hand to the left side of her chest. "I'm right here..." She's here, she's right here in front of you Alex. You can feel her. "with you." With you, she's right here with you. Alive and well.

Alex couldn't stop her burst of sobs in time, they indicated the fears she hadn't fully disclosed to the woman that pulled her right away and cooed at her as if she was a mother cradling her child for comfort. Alex bit her bottom lip, swallowing her cries and apprehensive "what ifs" as she lets herself be rocked like how her nanny used to when she was upset. She pushes away her thoughts down the very deep end the human mind would let—because what matters is Casey, her Casey who rubs her thumb to ease the sting from the moon shaped crescents on the palm of her hand. Her Casey who stares lovingly at her to remind her that what matters is now. Her Casey who keeps her grounded before she could even dig deeper into the cruel future. Her Casey who kisses her tears away so that any trace of evident weakness from counselor Cabot stays concealed, kept from everyone to witness what was once there.

Casey closes her eyes and held her a little tighter than she ever did, she didn't fully understand the reason for Alex to refrain the truth from her nor still put on a facade to voice out her fears, but she knows better than to pry out the answers for her curiosity.

And so she stares out at the window pane of her room, the night hearing Casey's silent oath to never let people get through Alex. Oh Alex, her Alex—a woman of juxtapositions; relentless yet kind, cold yet warm, beautiful yet deadly.

And she had figured, she'd embrace death just as so if it was just as beautiful.

For now, Casey lets herself succumb into her own thoughts so when Alex wakes up, she'll be able to face her fears for her.

#alex cabot #casey novak #calex #svu #law and order svu

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tommykinardfan · 2 days

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The Sandwich Tax

Dedicated to my new friend @yoong-tae, thought I would write a little meet-the-work-wife ficlet with one of my OCs inspired by our discussion.

Evan visits Harbor Station during Tommy's shift for the first time since they started dating and meets Olivia Chambers, Tommy's work wife.

This was Evan's second time visiting Harbor Station and the first time doing so during Tommy's shift. He wasn't sure what to expect, walking into the 217. All he knew was that it wasn't like the 118, it wasn't like a family. Stepping into the station, he could feel how disjointed the squad was, they all seemed to have scattered to different parts of the building. Taking in his surroundings, his eyes landed on a statuesque blonde in the kitchen, preparing a sandwich.

"Excuse me, I'm Evan Buckley, I'm here to see Tommy." He introduced himself to the woman, unsure of just how much Tommy talked about him.

The woman's honey brown eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement. "We know all about you, Buckley," her teasing tone was apparent as she spoke, "Tommy's taking a nap right now, but I could go wake him up if you want."

"I was just going to drop off some lunch," Evan explained, "I wanted to surprise him but if he's asleep, don't wake him up."

Evan immediately clocked the way she was observing him, studying him, and he knew in that moment he was being scrutinized by someone important. But he didn't have time to ask any questions when she spoke up again.

"Olivia Chambers, but you can call me Liv," the woman introduced herself, mirroring Evan's introduction, "Ground Support Firefighter with the 217."

"Pleasure to meet you, Firefighter Chambers," Evan offered as a sign of deference and respect, "Liv. You can call me Evan."

It was his turn to have an amused look on his face when Liv immediately pulled out the contents of the bag he brought. There was something distinctly playful about her that made him feel like she was the one Tommy was the closest to at work.

"You know you're going to have to pay the sandwich tax, Evan."

"The sandwich tax?"

"Well, normally Tommy pays the sandwich tax. And since this sandwich is for Tommy, I'm taking 50%." And immediately, Liv grabbed half the sandwich from its container to give it a taste.

Evan raised an eyebrow. "Do you approve?" he asked playfully.

"Not bad." There was a delighted giggle in between bites. "Solid Monte Cristo."

Putting the half of the sandwich she'd claimed on her plate on top of the sandwich she had made, Olivia put the rest of the lunch from Evan into the fridge for Tommy to find later.

"Are you guys always this...sparse?" Evan mused out loud.

"Yeah, 24 hours is a long time to spend in the same building so we go off and do our own thing so we don't get on each other's nerves." Olivia shrugged. "I go through phases of wanting to spend hours with the Groundies, or hang out with Tommy and the twins. It balances out."

It made sense to Evan why Tommy would be jealous of the 118 and the sense of family Captain Nash had built. His squad seemed much more disjointed.

"Listen, Evan, I'm glad you and Tommy found each other," Olivia commented, her casual tone slipping into a more sincere, earnest one, "Tommy wasn't always the confident guy you know and love. And in a lot of ways, he's still the guy who left the 118 looking to belong. But I've never seen him happier. So thank you for that."

Evan nodded in response, eyes lit up from the insight Olivia provided. "We're both lucky to have each other," he commented, not knowing what else to say.

Olivia chuckled. "Maybe one day, if you stick around long enough, I'll tell you the story of the first day I met Tommy. But for now, I'm running away with this delicious half of a sandwich before Tommy finds out I took it."

Evan chuckled at Olivia's antics, watching the blonde walk away with her lunch. "Nice to meet you, Liv. I'll see you around, hopefully."

"Don't worry, you will!" she called out over her shoulder, her tone somewhere between a promise and a threat.

Evan decided not to stick around to wait, leaving Tommy a text message about the lunch he left behind and the sandwich tax he paid. He'd get it when he woke up.

#tommykinardfan #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tevan #tommyevan #out of my 217 ocs liv's my favourite #olivia is tommy's eddie #liv's face claim is emily vancamp #olivia chambers #217 ocs #anne's 217 #the sandwich tax #evan paid this one #bucktommy #evantommy #kinley #buckard #dailykinley

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severefartoholic · 3 months

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Me when I'm playing doki doki literature club and I'm really dissapointed with Yuri's actions

#pafl #parties are for losers #nikita pafl #ddlc??? lmao #i had this in my mind for so long im sorry can you tell which post this is inspired by #today i watched so much gane theory specifically abojt thay game actually #it led me down a rabbit hole to the happy mest farms arg #i need to get to work writing my stories bro

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theflyingfeeling · 6 months

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was supposed to write the advent calendar fics, ended up writing an extra scene for let me down slowly. woops. anyway! I hope you like it, it's Olli's POV, titled let go of my tears and you can read it on AO3 🖤

#blind channel rpf #blind channel fanfiction #just fyi it doesn't really add much to the original story #so it's not necessarily the addition to this AU i was originally thinking of writing at some point but here it is anyway 💖#i just needed to write this because ummmmm. because i was feeling a particular way 😳💦#so yeah this was definitely inspired by something sort of unrelated to the fic. won't tell you what though 😌#...she says as if she wouldn't immediately spill the deets if anyone asked lol #(should be an easy guess for @gloryforthegreedy at least if you think back to our latest dm convo 🙈)#in fact i wanted to write a different kind of fic inspired by *that* but my brain said nope so i wrote this instead!#just like my previous olli/allu piece this one too is kinda sad kinda hot #if you're in the mood to read about olli and aleksi jerking off: grab yourself a cuppa and a blanket and make yourself at home 💕#if not: i wish you a pleasant evening ✨#i myself am at a point where i just want to read these two cuties do aaaaaall the stuff 🙊#(can you see me begging for filthy asks to enable me 😩)#(i blame giulia's latest olli/allu. which y'all should read immediately btw)

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itsmemaryk · 1 year

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Bridgerton Inspired TOH AU.

Duke of Gravesfield, Hunter Wittebane (using this surname for the sake of the story. It will be changed) is an orphan who has recently lost his only known family member, his uncle Philip. Hes not upset or grievance though. He’s relieved and happy because he’s finally free. Marquise Deamonne takes him under his wing and together, they move to a different region. His current home held too many sour memories. Darius witnessed how he’d been treated. In this new town, he meets Willow Park, daughter of Harvey & Gilbert Park, two wealthy floriculturists well known for managing all floral arrangements for important social events. Hunter, adamant to stay single in fear of him causing nothing but pain to anyone close to him, pushes her away, ignoring the love and affection he feels for her. He can only ignore his feelings for so long.

Willow is in doubt if the Duke even remotely likes her. She’s receiving mixed signals. Anytime Hunter shows any sort of affection, he ignores her for an extended period of time.

In a moment of weakness after a rather nasty argument with Boscha, she storms away from the party. After witnessing it, Hunter follows her. She compulsively takes out her frustration on him. She forces him to talk to her, asking if he gains any sort of satisfaction toyingwith her feelings. She’s too upset to register the words coming out of her mouth. Hunter feels like he owes her an explanation (because he does). He admits he’s fallen deeply in love with her, but he also tells her why he’s acted the way he has.

Hunter takes Lady Park’s last name when they marry, erasing all connections to his family and his past and starting anew.

Amity Blight is destined to marry Vee Noceda per her mother's orders. Neither of them want that marriage to take place. Amity instead falls for Vee's older sister. Luz was hoping to leave her mother and sister well and comfortable so she could finally explore the world and follow her dreams. The Blights can provide that for Vee and Camila.

Vee on the other hand, is only doing it to make her mom and sister happy. Amity is as well. The approval of their parents mean everything to them.

Vee meets Masha, a young adult around her age from a less fortunate part of town. They talk, and for the first time, Vee doesn’t have to consider every word she says. She doesn’t have a bunch of snobby rich people to impress. She doesn’t have to measure her words with caution and worry her arrangement with the Blight family will fall through if she didn’t act proper.

On the day of the wedding, Vee doesn’t show. Amity is upset she’s disappointed her family and ruined their plans. She runs off, and Luz quickly follows to comfort her while Camila leaves in search of her other daughter. Luz tells Amity exactly what she needs to hear. She tells her she’s amazing, perfect. She hasn’t failed anyone, and she shouldn’t have to worry about what everyone thinks. Amity impulsively kisses her.

#ignore me Im trying to write down some story ideas #this is the bridgerton inspired au i was talking about one time #i hate that i forgot to add this to the poll #can you tell I’ve put more thought into the gustholomule plot?#the owl house #huntlow #lumity #veesha #stevatya #Bridgerton inspired AU #THIS IS NOT PROOF READ 😭😭😭#Spotify #toh bridgerton au

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j-esbian · 1 month

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frustrating how so many craft books have a section about "how to sell what you've made"

like on one hand i get it because the person writing the book has obviously made their craft a full-time job. and they might have some tips and tricks that might be useful, and there are people out there who might be trying to start a small business out of it

but on the other hand it's just exhausting and feels like another voice saying "what's the point of having a hobby if you're not going to monetize it"

#the one of those that rly boils my blood. that i still think about all the time. almost ten years later #the art of language invention by david peterson lmao. fuck that. it is NOT actually a helpful resource if youre trying to get into conlang #in the intro he pretty explicitly was like 'yeah i'm only writing this bc the publishing house approached me bc #i made up some languages for the game of thrones show and that's popular so they thought it would sell'#the meat of the book itself is pretty rudimentary stuff iirc. 'here's the ipa chart. this is what a morpheme is.'#some cool stuff in there about how to build your own font and mess with the kerning to make cursive but it was a program i dont have so #and at the end. hoooooo boy. this is where u can tell they told him to put in this kind of section bc he basically straight up said #'if you're reading this because you want to learn how to build a fantasy conlang dont bother :)#if you weren't on this specific forum in 2002 youll never get it. just hire a Real Conlanger instead'#like. that absolutely colored the rest of the book preceding it bc the entire thing was stuff i had literally just learned #in the intro to linguistics class that inspired me to want to learn how to make a language. so it was nothing new #and the added antagonism of basically saying 'if you dont already know how to do this IM not gonna help bc you'd be competition'#again i understand why he had that attitude bc that's probably how the publisher pitched it in the first place #'this is going to be a book for the average joe who knows nothing about language mechanics and might have aspirations #of writing a story with its own language (because obviously gameofthrones was the first to do that /s) and is wondering how to do it'#but just a very weird attitude to have #mine

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aria0fgold · 1 month

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I'm coming for jokid next-- I'm coming for the pairs that had gripped me in a way that this song's hold on me is so unreal that I have to pass it onto my favourite pairings.

#aria rants #knocking on my fave pairings' doors like im the grim reaper. first sifloop. then my own ocs. next is jokid #my latest writing pieces are literally all set in the night cuz of this song bro. you can tell smth happened here #desperately trying my hardest to make it all distinct from one another tho like im inspired by One thing. its like im #paraphrasing my own stories but for different characters and its a lot harder than i thought but i have sirius' heart as fuel #after jokid im coming for caiowe. im saving caiowe for last cuz that ship is just so complex its a lil harder for me to write for em

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rosicheeks · 2 months

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i do not know if i ever sent this to you. i have posted it. i hope you like it Princess.

#uhhhhhm no you HAVE NOT SENT THIS TO ME BEFORE?!?!#I literally am speechless #I’m not super talky right now #but even if I was I feel like I’d still be fucking speechless #like I already said I love your writing 🩷#and it fucking BLOWS ME AWAY when people write about me or use me as an inspiration #like????????? what??????? me???????????!#I’m going to keep this close to my heart and look at it whenever I’m feeling down #I don’t remember if I said that already but it’s true #I need to get a journal or a cute box to put things like this in so I can just grab it and look through them when I’m feeling shitty #one thing I needed to say is the fact that you shared this with me now of all times??? is kinda crazy to me #idk if it’s a coincidence or if the universe/God/whoever/whatever is trying to tell me to go back into music and singing #not going to go into it too much but I’ve been looking at my life a lot lately #and I’m realizing I’m not getting any younger…. I know I’m still young but if I don’t do something soon -#my life is going to completely pass before my eyes and I really really don’t want that #I’m *finally* going to get mental help soon (long story but I have to wait a few weeks)#and once I’m actually mentally stable I can focus on what I want to do with my life #so I’ve been thinking a lot about my performing arts background and then randomly a get an email from a choir director I know #asking if I could please join the choir for their Easter performance cause they could really use my high notes #and she just kept complimenting me and it felt really nice ☺️#then when I went to the first rehearsal I sat next to this girl and we were singing a part and the first sopranos go up to a high A #and I can hit it easily but most of them couldn’t so it felt like I was going this mini solo lol #but she asks me what my range is and I told her that back when I trained I could sing queen of the night which I think goes up to an F6 #and she was talking about how impressive that is #and it made me think about if I actually trained and got back into it how good I actually could get #I don’t mean this to be like ‘look at me look at me I’m so good’#it just feels nice to have a little bit of a direction again #who knows if I’ll actually go down the music path again but it does sound damn exciting #I miss it with all my heart - I miss singing and performing and acting… I even miss music theory #anyway rant over and i ran out of space but thank you so much I seriously can’t thank you enough 😭🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

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baronessblixen · 2 years

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I know you have a lot of prompts to answer but this one was on my mind so I’ll give it : M&S have to leave William with her mom for the first time for a case but Scully (and/or Mulder!) has a hard time leaving him ☺️

Canon divergent: Set after season 8, Mulder didn't leave and William wasn't given up.

Fictober Day 22 | Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022 | Wc: 1,362

The Birds, The Bees And The Mulders

Mulder pretends to be busy getting dressed, struggling with his tie, when in reality, he’s watching Scully giving herself a once over in the mirror. Her hand is on her skirt, picking at invisible lint. It’s been over a year since she last donned her work clothes. Back then, she was still wearing her maternity clothes, this particular skirt hidden away in her closet because there was no way she fit into it.

“Think they’ll remember us at the FBI?” Mulder asks her, wrapping his arm around her middle and resting his head on her shoulder. He catches her eyes in the reflection of the mirror. He’s known her long enough to recognize the conflict in her expression.

“We were there a month ago,” she says, putting her hands over his. “Remember? We talked to Skinner. We had William with us.”

“I remember,” he says, kissing her cheek. “You know Scully, we don’t have to do this.”

“Do what? Wear clothes? I think it’s a requirement, Mulder.” He chuckles, kissing her cheek. Living with him has rubbed off on her; she, too, makes jokes when there’s something she doesn’t want to talk about. For days he’s been waiting for him to start this conversation, but she hasn’t. He’s been patient with her, waiting. But they can’t ignore it any longer.

“Go back to work. Leave William with your mom. We don’t have to do it,” he says gently.

“We have to go back to work if we want to continue paying rent.”

“There’s still enough money left,” Mulder assures her. “You can stay home.” In the mirror, he sees her bite her bottom lip. She tries to wriggle out of his embrace and he reluctantly lets go of her.

“I don’t even want to stay home,” she admits, turning away from him. “I miss work. I love William, and I wouldn’t trade the last few months for anything, but…”

“You miss the slicing and the dicing.” Mulder smiles at her.

“Does that make me a bad mother?” Another lip bite.

“Come here, Scully.” She walks over to him, having to crane her neck to look at him. There are still moments when Mulder is surprised by their height difference, even after all this time. It just slips his mind until they’re face to face like this. She takes up so much space in his mind that he can’t think of her as being small.

“You’re a wonderful mother,” he tells her, his head close to hers. “You can love our kid and your work. Is that what’s been bothering you the last few days?”

“You noticed that, huh?” She says, sounding dejected.

“I’m a profiler, aren’t I?” He gives her a grin to ease the moment. “Also, I know you and I love you. You’ve been worrying about this ever since you talked to your mom about watching William.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“I didn’t want to push you.”

“I know my mom will take good care of Will,” Scully says. “I know Will loves her. He probably won’t even miss us.” She says the last bit with tears in her eyes. “I just don’t… what if something happens, Mulder? It’s not like it was before. But I miss work. I miss – you’re gonna think I’m crazy.”

“Hey, I have decades of experience being called crazy. You? You are not crazy, Scully, no matter what you’re gonna say.”

“I miss the autopsies. I miss the dissecting, finding the clues, the reasons. I want to get to the truth of what happened to these people. Still think I’m not crazy?”

“Not even a little bit,” he says, kissing her to prove his point. “You’re brilliant at your job, Scully. I know you love it. You shouldn’t have to choose.” She nods, playing with his tie, straightening it.

“But what if… we’ve been shot, abducted, placed in quarantines. Sometimes we barely made it out of these situations alive. How can we do this to William, Mulder?” She’s sobbing and he pulls her into his arms, holding her tightly against him. She smells like William’s baby shampoo and he closes his eyes against the onslaught of emotions it brings.

“We’ll only take on cases we deem safe,” he whispers into her hair.

“That never works, Mulder. What about all your little nice trips to the forests?”

“Then what’s the solution? We give up our jobs?” They had talked about it shortly after William was born, cocooned in their bed with their sleeping son right next to them. Every breath he took seemed like a miracle. Mulder couldn’t imagine ever leaving their son for longer than a second.

Gradually, things changed with Scully being more open to handing William over to her mother, or to Skinner. But Mulder always stood guard, ready to turn the whole world upside down to keep his son safe and within his reach.

“I’m not sure I’m ready,” Scully says with a sigh. “I can’t- I think one of us should stay with him. At least for another while. I’m going to let Skinner know that he needs to find a new pathologist.” There’s defeat in her voice, a loud sadness.

“Wait a second,” Mulder says. “How about I stay home with William? We both know I’m more likely to jump on a moving train than you.” They smile at each other.

“You love your work,” Scully says, sniffling.

“Not as much as I love you and William. And not as much as you love your job. Honestly? I didn’t even miss it. I quit before Will was born, remember?” She nods. “I’m not saying I want to do this forever. We can give it a shot. You go to work, bring home the money, and I’m gonna stay here with Will. What do you say?”

“My mom is going to be so sad she doesn’t get to watch William,” Scully says after a moment of consideration. “Mulder, I really-,” he silences her with a kiss.

“I want to do this,” he says. “Do you know the southern cassowary, Scully?”

“The large bird from Australia?”

He nods, continuing, “In cassowary families, it’s the dad that builds the nest and raises the offspring. Let me be a southern cassowary, Scully.” She laughs, wiping away a few tears.

“You do know that the female goes off after laying eggs and has more kids with other birds, right?”

“We don’t have to be exactly like the southern cassowary,” he concedes, taking over to wipe away the tears from her eyes and cheeks. It’s a good thing she hasn’t applied her make-up yet. He knows she wants to make a good expression on her first day back.

Today will be her first day back and he won’t be there to witness it. He will change out of his suit, hang up his tie for good, and go pick up William from her mother’s. Excitement spreads in his chest in a way that going back to work never did.

“Good cause they’re very aggressive birds.”

“I will defend you and our son against everything,” Mulder says.

“I know you will.” Scully gets on tiptoes to press a long kiss against his mouth. Yeah, he will miss being able to kiss her all through the day. But he’ll get to kiss her goodbye every morning. That’s something, too.

“Do you think I’m being ridiculous?”

“I could never think that. Not about this, anyway,” he adds. “Let’s give it a trial run. We do this for a month and then we reevaluate the situation. Deal?”

“Deal.” She gives him another kiss. “I love you, Mulder.”

“Hmm, love you, too. Now let’s get ready, I don’t want you to be late on your first day back at work. I’ll drop you off before I pick up Will from your mom’s.”

“What will the two of you be doing all day?” She asks, walking into the bathroom. Mulder follows her, loosening his tie.

“Oh you know,” he says, grinning. “Teaching our son about the birds, the bees, and government conspiracies.” Scully throws him an apprehensive look.

“You think it’s too soon to teach him about the birds and the bees?”

#fictober2022 #if you follow me on twitter #i can tell you that this is the story that was inspired by me writing texts about USB cables #fluff today!#msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic

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windfighter · 1 year

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Can you tell I don't care about football?

The title isn't even a title. I just really don't care about football and this is the second??? third??? time I use it to hurt this blorbo. Enjoy x3

Prompt: Blurry vision | Support | ”I think I need to sit down”

-----

Kouji stumbled. The world spun around him, out of focus. His head hurt. The air was thick and heavy and hard to get into his lungs. His heart banged against his ribcage. Quick beats like a woodpecker. An arm wrapped around his waist.

”You okay?”

Kouichi. Kouji leaned against him, blinked. Okay wasn’t… the right word.

”Think I’m sick”, he mumbled.

He waved a hand infront of his face. He could see it, but the edges were blurry. It probably meant something.

”World’s…”

He didn’t quite find the words to explain. Was too tired. His heart beat too loudly. Why did he come along to the park to begin with? His body tilted forwards and he didn’t have energy to fight it. Kouichi tugged at him, tried to get him to stay standing. It wouldn’t work.

”...think I need to sit down”, Kouji said.

Kouichi tugged at him again. Turned around a bit. Kouji had no idea what he was searching for.

”Alright, let’s get you seated down”, Kouichi said.

He took a step. Kouji tried to lift a foot, but his knees buckled. Hit the ground. Kouji’s head spun worse. He leaned forwards, hands against the grass. Closed his eyes. He could hear the others come closer as well. Izumi, Junpei, Tomoki and Takuya. He opened his eyes, but they didn’t want to stay open.

Why had he come along to the park?

A hand was placed on his shoulder, someone shook him. Sounds were starting to be just as blurry as his vision.

”Let’s get him lying down”, Junpei said. ”And get some water into him.”

Lying down sounded nice. Kouji leaned to the side, let gravity do the job of pulling him down. Hands turned him over, put him on his back. He blinked, but his eyes still didn’t want to stay open.

”Takuya, go get your bag”, Kouichi said.

Soft steps as Takuya ran away, returned. Something soft was placed under Kouji’s legs. The bag. They pulled his bandana off, put a wet towel across his forehead. His head slowly started cooperating again.

”Sorry”, he whispered.

”You have a fever”, Kouichi said.

Kouji wasn’t sure how Kouichi knew, but he nodded.

”You woke up with a fever”, Kouichi repeated, ”and decided that playing football sounded like a good idea.”

Kouji frowned. When Kouichi put it like that it made him sound like an absolute moron. He opened his eyes. The world was in focus.

”I didn’t think it was this bad?” he tried.

”You almost fainted”, Junpei said. ”That’s pretty bad.”

Kouji rubbed his eyes, yawned. Tried to sit up. Takuya put a foot on his shoulder.

”You’re not getting up until we’re sure you’re fine.”

Kouji felt small where he was on his back, with Takuya, Izumi and Tomoki towering above him. At least Junpei and Kouichi had the sense to sit down. He turned towards Kouichi.

”I’m fine, promise.”

Fine was an exaggeration, but the air didn’t feel as thick any longer. Kouichi looked at him, put his head in his hands and shook it.

”Fine, sit up if you want to.”

Takuya took his foot off Kouji’s shoulder, took a step back. Kouji stayed on the ground. He took a shaky breath. Tomoki sat down.

”Are you thirsty?” he asked.

”I’m not helpless”, Kouji answered.

”No, but are you thirsty?”

Kouji snorted. His throat felt dry.

”A bit”, he admitted.

Tomoki disappeared out of Kouji’s field of view, rummaged around in the bag under his legs. A bottle was placed in Kouji’s hand and Kouji took a few sips out of it. The water was cool despite the sun shining on them. Kouji closed his eyes and put the bottle on the ground again.

”...call mom or dad?” he asked.

He wasn’t helpless but his head still felt a bit weird and he wasn’t sure he could muster the words to explain to his parents what happened. Kouichi squeezed his shoulder, took the phone from his pocket. Kouji listened as Kouichi explained what had happened. Someone took the towel from Kouji’s forehead, rewetted it and put it back. They talked quietly, Kouji didn’t listen. He was almost drifting off.

”Mama’s on the way”, Kouichi said. ”How are you feeling?”

”Tired?” Kouji suggested.

He put a hand on his chest, massaged it. His heart felt like it was trying to escape through his ribcage. Kouichi frowned.

”Is it pneumonia?”

Kouji shook his head.

”Heart’s still racing”, he said. ”It’s uncomfortable.”

”Are you having a fucking heart attack?!”

Kouichi’s suddenly louder voice made Kouji’s head pound again. He clenched his eyes shut and shook his head.

”I’m too young for a heart attack”, he said with a laugh.

”Young people can get heart attacks too, especially if they decide to work out when they have a fever.”

”Really feel like you’re scolding me now.”

He pushed himself into a sitting position. The towel fell to the ground next to him. His head spun, but not as bad as earlier. He put his hands in his lap, kicked the bag to the side. Took a few deep breaths to try and get his speeding heart under control. He hadn’t expected it to get this bad.

”It’s not a heart attack”, he repeated.

Kouichi opened his mouth to protest. Kouji was so tired. He leaned forwards, put his head in his hands.

”No, really, it’s not. Mom’s taught me the signs in case dad would get one.”

Kouichi sighed. Moved closer and sat down right next to Kouji.

”...okay then. Think you can walk to the parking lot?”

Kouji hesitated. Maybe. The thought of standing up sounded like a chore. He put a hand on the ground.

”Have to”, he answered.

Because he did, didn’t he? Mom wouldn’t be able to carry him there and he wasn’t helpless. Just a little sick and tired. He got his feet under himself, pushed himself up. The world spun. His head exploded. Someone wrapped an arm around his waist and put his arm over their shoulders.

”Easy there.”

Takuya. Kouji’s legs trembled. But he wasn’t falling back down. Success? He leaned against Takuya. Takuya laughed.

”Need me to carry you?”

”Don’t think I’m that sick”, Kouji said.

Kouichi stood up, grabbed Kouji's hand and pressed two fingers against his wrist. Kouji blinked, stared at him. There was a frown on Kouichi’s face.

”If you can carry him, please do”, Kouichi said.

He let go of Kouji, shook his head. Crossed his arms over his chest. Kouji rolled his eyes.

”That’s almost as high as your exercise pulse.”

”I have been working out”, Kouji said.

”Yeah, but it’ll usually be normal by now.”

Kouichi had that irritating know-it-all voice he got when he knew better than Kouji. Kouji rolled his eyes again and tried to take a step. Takuya followed, but Kouji’s legs didn’t quite want to carry him, his lungs didn’t quite want to get enough air. His chest hurt and his pulse sped up. He clenched his hand around Takuya’s shirt. Why did he get out of bed?

Takuya laughed, took a better grip around Kouji’s waist before leaning down. His other arm behind Kouji’s knees and the world tilted. Kouji stared at the sky. Well, this was stupid. The whole situation was stupid. He put his head on Takuya’s shoulder, released a frustrated breath.

”Just this once”, he said.

”Just this once”, Takuya agreed.

Kouji closed his eyes, counted his heartbeats as Takuya walked. Way too high, but he wouldn’t admit that if he could avoid it. Mom would know what to do. He pressed a hand against his chest. Next time he was sick he’d just stay in bed until he was better.

Yeah, no, that was a lie. He wouldn’t and he knew it.

Takuya stopped. Kouji blinked, looked around. Already at the parking lot. Takuya let go of Kouji’s legs, lowered him onto a bench. Kouji rubbed his eyes, leaned forwards. His head pounded to the beat of his heart and his stomach was starting to protest as well.

”How…” he started. Swallowed. ”How do I look?”

He hoped it didn’t come across as flirtatious. That Takuya wouldn’t answer in a flirtatious manner. He needed to know.

”Like death walked over you”, Kouichi answered.

”Yeah…”

Kouji pulled his hands across his face. Leaned back and closed his eyes. He felt like it too. He heard a car pull up, the door open. What sounded like mom’s shoes against asphalt. A hand against his knee, Kouichi’s awkward greeting. Kouji opened his eyes. Mom. She looked at him, grabbed his hand. Put two fingers against his wrist in a gesture he wasn’t supposed to notice. She frowned and Kouji agreed.

”Hey”, she said. ”Ready to go?”

She didn’t mean home, he could see it in her eyes. But they didn’t need to worry the others. He nodded, reached for Takuya. Takuya pulled him up, held him as he stumbled to the car. Mom opened the door to the passenger seat and Kouji sank down in it. Buckled up before leaning back, closing his eyes and listening to his heart pounding in his ears.

”Can I come with you?” Kouichi asked.

Their voices sounded far away, from the other side of an iron door. Kouji leaned the seat back a little. He was starting to feel dizzy.

”I’m sorry, Kouichi. Not this time. We’ll call you later, I promise.”

”From the hospital”, Kouji slurred because his brain was an asshole and decided to let it slip.

He really wasn’t feeling well. Cartoonish noises left Kouichi, or maybe it was just Kouji’s brain playing trick on him. Someone closed the door on his side, he couldn’t tell who from behind his closed eyelids. The darkness was nice though. Soft. Silent.

...they should probably have called an ambulance.

The engine roared to life and the car shook. Kouji pressed a hand against his mouth, then let it fall down. He was drained. Mom squeezed his knee, or was he imagining, and then the car jerked as mom pressed the gas pedal down. Kouji slid against the window. It was cool, released some of the ache behind his forehead. He sighed.

If whatever was wrong didn’t kill him, Kouichi would.

#windy writes #whumpril2023 #digimon frontier #kouji minamoto #kouichi kimura #takuya kanbara #the others are there too but they barely do anything #sick kouji #it was nice to write some actual whump today :3 #although I enjoyed a break to write non-whump as well #but I'm a little bit better so we're back on out bullshit #I still have a fever and am coughing but my nose isn't constantly running #it has entered the hell-stage where it's just blocked and I can't unclog it at all though help it sucks #anyway kouji can have little a whump as a treat to me :3 #sorry frontier-tag you'll never get rid of me ^^'#unless you block me I guess #you probably already have #honestly valid we're all in charge of our own internet experiences #anyway to the few who hasn't blocked me I hope you enjoyed this disaster :3 #this story inspired by a friend from loooong ago telling me about a person who died after he had gone to the gym with a cold #if you're sick please take it easy and rest your bodies #see you all later today (it's already tomorrow in sweden) for another disaster I guess!

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smolvenger · 6 months

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Me Every time despite my tags a W*ll R*nsome gif pops up unfiltered on my Tumblr dash in a positive way or shows something about him and C*ra’s “love story”🤢🤮

#TAKE THE LUSTY CHEATER FAR FROM ME THANK YOU #w*ll hate #w*ll my beloathed #justice for Stella Ransome #I can at least use it for inspiration to write Court and make it an emotional outlet #vent time: ITS NOT A LOVE STORY IF ITS A FUCKING AFFAIR. period.#especially with a wife back home who loves you and who had a happy marriage #WHO THE EFF WAS LOOKING AFTER THE KIDS WHEN SILLY BILLY WAS DANCING WITH THE PICK ME GIRL WIDOW? WHO WAS LOOKING AFTER JO JAMES AND JOHN??#STELLA THATS WHO!!#AND WHEN THEY WALKED WHO WAS LOOKING AFTER THE KIDDOS WHEN SHE WAS FEELING OK?#FUCKING MY BABY STELLA #ugghhh #I can’t wait to roast him and C*ra the Pick Me Widow more in Court #if anyone tells me Stella would have wanted it don’t talk to me #if anyone goes C*ra WaS aBuSeD it doesn’t make her entitled to Silly Billy and it doesn’t excuse KNOWINGLY having an affair #UGGGHHH #at least I don’t have panic attacks and cry and have to drink to sleep anymore #Stella ransome #the Essex serpent #Anti-The Essex Serpent

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caeslxys · 2 years

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I have so much swirling around in my brain about vox machina and bells hells and the mighty nein and I am going to make it all of ya'lls problem. anyway i think it's kind of funny that people think c2 is the forgotten child of critical role because of all the direct relation to c1 through player character back story and connections because, like, yeah.

but wasn't that part of the magic of the mighty nein's story?

vox machina ended with those characters as legends, as written-about historical figures in exandria, as rulers and leaders and councilors of cities and nations in their own right.

the mighty nein? no one knew about lucien, no one knew about aeor. the mighty nein was so deeply mistrustful and surrounded on all sides by people allied to them more by at-the-moment-common-goals and pure, often selfish intrigue than genuine trust that it wasn't until Allura made her appearance in episode 80 (out of 141. over half of the entire story) that not the characters but the cast breathed a sigh of relief.

and when that story ended, almost all of them found a way to settle down. cad went back to his grove. fjord and jes and kingsley took to the sea for a life of piracy. yasha settled down with beau for a peaceful life. veth went back to being with her family. only caleb and beau and essek (who, it's important to note, was on the run) remained explicitly intertwined with the politics of wildemount and exandria, and even that was mostly in secrecy.

What callbacks would there even be to c2 at this point in c3's story (because I do think we will get more, the deeper the hells dive into the assembly's involvement and the secrecy within these cults (?) associated with ruidus at all) outside of Ludinus, the Cerberus Assembly, and dunamancy?

I have hopes of seeing Astrid at some point, given that she's a part of the Cerberus Assembly, but if we're not getting name drops and cameos like Vex'ahlia and Keyleth and Percival for the nein, I don't think that comes from c2 being forgotten or pushed to the sideline. I think it's just a consequence of their particular story.

(and, who knows, maybe Astrid does show up and maybe she does mention an intelligent, fire-wielding wizard educated specifically on the magics within and around calamity-era ruins such as aeor as well as the limits and possibilities of dunamancy, and his partners: a deeply respected expositer of the cobalt soul who has been entrenched in weeding out corruption from the assembly alongside him and a mysterious drow with a mastery of dunamancy and deep knowledge of the calamity-era ruins themself. maybe that's exactly the kind of experience the hells will need)

#critical role #the mighty nein #vox machina #bells hells #thoughts thoughts THOUGHTS THOUGHTS #btw I just wanna say all these posts are not meant to be hashtag discourse #it is literally just me word vomiting bc I have SO MUCH inspiration for critical role that I have no time to otherwise dedicate #to writing fic of making art so my brain is just constantly Critical Role Thought Soup #and I Need To Let Some Of The Pressure Out Of My Brain Before I Implode #also! I personally have hopes for Tharizdun connections too #ALSO SORRY I AM STILL ON MOBILE I WILL ATTEMPT TO REMEMBER A READ MORE LATER #but yeah! I don't think tmn is being forgotten or glossed over #it's just that their story was never history's story. it was theirs #they wanted their friend back! THEY WANTED THEIR FRIEND BACK 🥲#anyway can you tell I'm activitely missing the mighty nein and am also dreading tomight's laudna-less episode #words #yes I will put all my extraneous thoughts into the tags of every post and NO I don't care how long that makes them #thoughts

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