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#putting out food and water in the shade on a hot day and seeing them actually drink the water
sereniv · 2 months
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such a wonderful feeling, doing something for an animal and seeing them appreciate it
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doberbutts · 4 months
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We have a little free pantry in our front yard (toothbrushes, tampons, shelf-stable snacks bottled water, etc.), and I read a lot about people's experiences having one online before we put ours up re: expectations about potential interactions with people using it, but nothing prepared me for how weirdly aggro *other* people sometimes get about us having it as a form of "activism" as opposed to some other, more nebulous idea of broader social change. "Don't you think it'd be better to volunteer at or donate money to a homeless shelter, so those people can get the actual help they need?" "Shouldn't you focus more on trying to campaign for policy changes that will help more people than one street corner if you care about this problem?" "Isn't doing that a waste of time?" "Aren't you just encouraging people not to get help?" I do that other stuff when I can. This is something small I can do - in addition to raising awareness and fighting for bigger change, when I have the time and money and spoons - and at least, when I don't. It's crazy to me to approach social justice issues with such an all-or-nothing mindset as some people seem to. I've met enough of the individuals who utilize it to know it makes a difference in a very tangible way for the people directly around me.
No, I agree entirely.
Corny and dated as it is, there's a reason the saying is "be the change you want to see". If no one within the community puts in the work to fix the community's problems, even in little bits and pieces, then how will anything change? Raising awareness only goes so far. What happens when all anyone is, is aware? Aware, and still doing nothing, waiting for someone else to put in the work.
Sometimes, that someone is going to need to be you. You can't just wait around and wait for someone else to do it for you.
If I see someone digging through the trash for food, I wave them over and offer them food from my house or fresh food from a store or take them to a restaurant where they can order whatever they want. If I'm getting groceries and I see someone very obviously homeless struggling to pay for their food, I tell the cashier to add it to my bill. No one starves in front of me. Ever since I stopped needing to rely on food stamps, no one starves in front of me.
This past summer I saw someone splayed out on the sidewalk in 95F weather in direct sunlight. I couldn't tell if he was unconscious from drugs or passed out from the heat or just simply had fallen asleep in the shade and then the sun moved. I was getting groceries so I added a bunch of hot chicken to my order plus several bottles of refrigerated water. I went over to him and woke him and explained that I was worried he needed medical attention. He'd passed out because he was tired, he told me. I offered him the hot food and the water and he thanked me, telling me he'd run out of water the night before and food the day before that and didn't have any money to get any more.
Everyone else had been walking around him like he was just an obstacle on the sidewalk. No one had thought to offer any help. When I walked away, some folks who saw me told me that that was very nice of me. I don't think it was nice of me. I think that's just what you should do if you see someone obviously in distress. They agreed that he seemed like he needed the help. They didn't act. They agreed that the compassionate and right thing to do was to offer assistance and make sure he was okay. But they didn't do it. They waited for someone else to do it.
I've mentioned in passing that I volunteer for the local teen LGBT club, helping lost gay kids find their way and maybe not kill themselves about it. It's not much. I mostly just text back and forth with whatever kids get my number from the adults that run the thing. Sometimes I give them tips and advice. Sometimes I'm just the cool gay uncle they tell about their latest school drama. Once or twice I've served one of them lunch on my couch while my dogs smother them with affection and they cry about their latest heartbreak. I don't do speeches or history lessons or anything like that. I don't think I'm qualified for it, in honesty. But if even one of them doesn't commit suicide, if even one of them doesn't self-harm, if even one of them no longer feels all alone in the world because I'm there when they reach out to me, that's enough.
Today on my commute to work, the guy in front of me had a major wipeout on his motorcycle. I stopped my car in a position that none of the other cars could hit him, and asked if he was okay, and waited until his friend (also on a motorcycle) had circled back around to help him off the road and check him over. I left once his friend waved me away. I offered to call an ambulance but he refused.
A couple weeks ago, also on my commute, a woman was stopped on the side of the road, waving her arms at drivers, shouting for help. I stopped. The other drivers didn't. Her car had died, she was new to town, and she was somewhere that notoriously doesn't get cell service. I helped her call a tow truck. It wasn't a trap. She didn't want to hitchhike. She just was stuck and panicked about it.
I stop and help animals get off the road. I've lost count on how many turtles I've carried to the other side. I helped my neighbor search for a dog he saw get hit by a car so he could take it to the vet. I shoveled my elderly neighbor's driveway for her, and talked my boss into giving her a major discount for her little dog's dental in which pretty much every tooth needed extraction or he would die. When I still lived in that rental with my roommates, we were surrounded by kids. Every kid on the block knew we were a safe house to go to. If they needed food or water, if they needed entertainment, if they needed just somewhere to be, they could be at our place. When covid started, I did a "reverse halloween" since Halloween was canceled, and I put bags of candy on every doorstep that I knew had kids inside. I've done a "neighborhood santa" putting a small toy plus a small gift card for the parents on every doorstep that has kids, for as long as I've lived around kids.
When I say activism requires action, I don't mean that every single person is required to save a thousand lives. The honest answer is, unless you have a lot of disposable time and money, you probably won't. But you can still make a difference. To one. To ten. To twenty.
And you know what? I'm not saying black people specifically came up with this- but how can you be surprised to know this is how I live my life when I say over and over that I was raised by black activists who lived during MLK Jr and Malcolm X and knew community action would have the longest-lasting effects? Of course I do all this. That's what being part of a community *is*.
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disaster-writes-stuff · 3 months
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They can't tell that I love you.
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Men and minors DNI One of the girls (AU) Warnings: Teacher-student dynamics, age gap, dark theme.
1 P.M You open your eyes. You felt hot and you woke up sweaty. You reach out for your phone but it’s not there.
Panic sets inWhere is it
MY PHONE You get up in your bed and start looking around frantically Oh It’s on the table being charged. Your room is cleaned up. You know that you can be drunk enough to jump off a bridge but not drunk enough to clean. You try to recall last night's events 12..18 vodka shots216 $Goddamn that's too much how drunk was Then, a girl with red hair in a silver dress touched me. Natasha. No that wasn't real. Drinking water. Hitting head on the nightstandSleepingDrooling
Dreaming about Natasha You couldn't recall coming home, changing clothes, cleaning your house. You open the gallery to check for pictures but none. You open your camera to check your makeup. It's removed and you can smell your  moisturizer You certainly didn't do skincare You get up and go to the kitchen for water. The whole house is clean. The dishes are done. The clothes are folded. And there's a wig and huge sunglasses by the table next to the foyer door. Those aren't yours. You pick them up and smell them. Gucci. Flora. You were sure of it. You loved per fumes and you were a pro at recognizing them. The scent was familiar but you couldn't remember. You go to your dresser and there's a note.
“Hey, stranger! We met at the bar, remember?----. See you again soon. Take care! Love Lilah” Silver dress. It must be that girl who touched me. Nice of her. She carried me home. So she probably used the wigs and the glasses? Next to her note is a strip of anti-hangover pills with one tab empty. That explains not feeling the hangover.
You pick up a pair of shorts and a tank top to go take a bath. On the sink is a strand of red hair. It’s probably Lilah’s. I need to thank her. I have probably seen her at university. It’s Saturday and you have 3 assignments pending. After you take a bath you chug water and decide to take a walk to that cafe and get something to eat. Your frequent visits made you develop a taste for the food there. You also bonded with Wanda. She was sweet and kind and always managed to strike up a conversation. It's Saturday so you probably won't see Natasha there. You decide not to change out of your outfit and just apply some lip balm, put on Crocs, and leave your hair as it is. You run a hand through it to fix it in place. You grab your phone, lock the apartment, and leave. The world is a much better place to live when you sleep 8+ hours of sleep and are hydrated. The walk was beautiful. You noticed the sunshine but stuck to walking in the shade of the trees since you had no SPF on. You forget about everything, enter the cafe, and walk up to the counter. As you're ordering a big salad and iced tea you see some red hair in the corner of your eyes. And the sound of someone clearing their throat Oh thank god wanda is here I won't feel alone.Over the days you and Wanda came on a first-name basis since she didn't teach you. You turn around and your heart sinks. It’s Natasha You gasped and remembered your outfit. It had to be the worst one. A faded tank top and shorts. Plus the Crocs and socks. Also the messy hair You could've died right there. She smiles at you as if something is funny. Probably the gasp Oh god.Why do you hate me x2 The audible gasp and the way you stiffened upon seeing her. Your hair in its natural state looked adorable to her Your bare face which showed your blush very obviously and the glossy lip balm on your lips. Adorable. She could push you on the counter and take you-
No.Not yet. “Hey, how are you,” she said with the most shit-eating grin across her face. This is what she wanted. To see you in your natural habitat where you're not putting up a front for her. The way you didn't expect her and she was right there. That's what she wanted. Otherwise, she didn't like how you always acted like a pouty little bitch to get her attention. ‘What are you doing here on a Saturday” “I was getting lunch and came here on a walk” You awkwardly positioned your hands behind you on the counter. Natasha was very close to you with your back fully against the counter. “Well same” “Y/n? Is there some y/n here? Your order is ready” You immediately turn around and grab your order. Natasha inches even closer. Her pelvis is almost touching your ass. You smoothly slip out of the gap and give her an awkward smile. “Natasha? Your order is ready” says the man at the counter. “Oh, what a coincidence. Come sit with me” “Uh- sure” She grabs your hand and sits you down at the seat across from her. She places your iced tea gingerly in front of you she smiles at you and for some reason, the fight in you and the tough front is completely gone. “So. what have you been up to” she asks “Oh, nothing. Assignments. I spent my entire night working on it” Liar “Aw c'mon don't lie to me” “No, really I spent a lot of time on it “Oh, then it must be good. Which assignment were you doing exactly?” “UM-...the..Kafka one’ “Oh great. Mind if I have a listen?” “Listen? What” you were caught. “Oh, you know. The assignment was that you record a part of his work and narrate it in your style while explaining” Natasha was lying too, The assignment was to read some of Kafka's work and write observations. She just wanted to test you. For funzies. “Oh- that’s not. My phone was running out of storage so the audio file is on my laptop” “Smart. But have you not gone out at all?” “Nope. just studying and working” You stammer on your words and lie to appear squeaky clean to her. She found every single thing about you adorable “Oh! By the way, Natash- Ms. Romanoff I have a question” She chuckled at how you almost said her name. “Yes, what is it?” “Do you know any lilah? Does she have red hair? Or like any red-haired girl you've seen around the university?” “I know Lilah but I'm unsure if she has red hair. How do you know? Why do you ask?” That made Natasha’s heart jump. “At the library. I met this girl who was wearing a silver dress and had red hair. I passed out. Dehydration I think? She dropped me home and cleaned my room. Funny story right” “A girl at the library in a silver dress? clean your room? y/n, are you okay?” she laughs out. “Yeah-” “y/n it's ok you don't have to lie. I know you went out somewhere last night. I saw your Instagram story. Nice dress by the way.” You awkwardly look down in shame. “I don't eat students for going out, you know. I caught your lie when you said you ‘recorded’ your assignment. You could've just said you were drunk and a kind girl dropped you home and you want to know her and thank her” “Y-yeah that. I’m sorry” “It's okay Malysh. I'll try to hunt down a red-haired Lilah for you. But you shouldn't pay much attention honestly. Girls are very supportive and I'm glad you made it home safe.” You and Natasha chatted for an hour at least, the conversation felt natural. You eventually forget about your outfit. The weekend passed and surprisingly you did all your assignments.--------------------------
You wake up at 6:30 am. Go for a run because Natasha mentioned she goes for a run. And you in the spur of the moment said you do too. You come back from your run, take a bath, and have breakfast  You pick out some black flared leggings and a sweatshirt. You apply mascara, lip gloss, and SPF and leave for college. You enter the class and there is a girl in your seat. “Hey um this is my seat,” you say . She wore a cute outfit. “Oh sorry. I am Lottie.” “Hi Rhea this is my seat” “I don't see your name on it” Bitch “Listen. Ms. Romanoff told me specifically to sit here, please move” “Why? She's bangin’ you?” That made your blood boil. You were furious. So much for your day being ruined by this A grade cunt. Natasha enters the class and the minute she sees your face she knows something going on “Hey, what's going on?” Natasha enters in a panicked state upon seeing the mini brawl take place.
You turn to her with glossy eyes and a clear look of anger. “Miss Romanoff? I'm a new student and she says she needs the first seat. Will you please let me sit here it's my first day” she said trying to act all cute Sure, you were Natasha's favorite but as a professor, she couldn't let her favoritism toward you show now. “y/n, honey, why don't you sit on the next bench hm? What got you so worked up, what'd she say to you?” “Miss Romanoff I simply jokingly asked her why she is so adamant about sitting here, is it because you are banging her?” she said the last bit loudly, and all the other students in the classroom turned to look at the three of you “Well first of all Lottie,  I asked y/n not you. Secondly, that's a very inappropriate remark about your peer and professor. This is a warning. I don't like individuals like you to act up” she said as she placed a hand on your lower back while guiding you to your seat. This was her way of letting Lottie get the message.
Lottie’s mouth felt agape as she saw Natasha touch you. Then she saw the smirk on Natasha's face. Throughout the lecture. Natasha's eyes were fixated on you. She kept checking to make sure how you were doing. After the lecture, you immediately had to leave for another period. You pack your things, smile at Natasha, and leave. After the lecture, Rhea got up from her desk and went to Natasha. She made sure everyone left. “Hey Miss Romanoff?” “Yes Lottie what is it,” she said annoyed “I wanted to ask you something” She bends forward on the desk exposing her cleavage
‘Yes, Lottie. what.is.it?” “I was wondering if you are willing to offer me extra lessons? Y'know. Just us?”
“You have gotta be a real stupid person for wanting extra classes in literature. This isn't high school math. Lottie you chose this subject. Now deal with your consequences” “But Miss Romanoff you give extra lessons to y/n” Natasha's eyes shot up at her giving her a deathly stare. “I already told you, you're being inappropriate. I have all the rights to drop you as a student and transfer you to another class. My limit for each lecture is 45 students. You're the 47th one” “Then drop y/n too” “You and the student on the last bench are getting dropped. y/n and the others were the first to sign up and get allotted to my class” “Ah, I see she wants to bang you THAT bad” She leans closer to Lottie. And whispers in her ear “Yeah so? Are you jealous?” She pulls back and leaves the classroom. Lottie feels burnt to her core. Although Lottie had a girlfriend. She couldn't help but think her girlfriend's sister was hotter. Yelena was Lottie's girlfriend.
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slocumjoe · 1 year
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how would companions be at the beach? who gets sunburnt for a week? who tries drowning who?
Companions have a Beach Episode
Cait; is kicking ass and taking names at volley ball. Any who step up to the net are swiftly executed, either by shame of their devastation, or Cait spiking too hard and beaning them in the head. Being a ginger, this girlie is 2x vulnerable to sunburn. Doesn't put on sunscreen, thinks its dumb. Regrets this immensely. But before her skin starts peeling off of her like an onion, and in between claiming victims, she's throwing back fun beach cocktails. Doesn't drink water. On a hot, sunny day. When she's exerting herself. Also comes to regret this. This could have gone much worse if she didn't gorge herself at the BBQ. She wears baggy swim shorts and a loose tank top.
Codsworth; Hangs out at a gazebo with a makeshift kitchen/bar area. He's not risking sand getting in delicate places, absolutely not. No, Codsy stays nice and cozy, and makes those aforementioned cocktails, as well as other cold drinks and food. When he isn't serving something or cooking, indulges in some sort of activity, like a puzzle book, a normal novel, something like that. He enjoys the energy of the beach, the sand and sun and surf, but practically...he just really wants to take a broom to it, y'know? Just...just to see if he could...but that's rude to nature. So, it's best he keep to a more manageable area. One that doesn't give him cleaning itches.
Curie; Sets up a beach towel under an umbrella, and relaxes with a good book and iced drink. Despite not going out in the sun, puts on sunscreen to set an example. Periodically chases people down with a bottle if they've yet to apply it. You are not allowed to get skin cancer on her watch. When she isn't hunting Cait for sport, Curie is simply enjoying the beachy soundscape, warmth, and general chill vibes. Will get up and check on everyone, make sure they're drinking water, et cetera. Half of her time is spent relaxing, the other half Mama Hen-ing. These people lack self-preservation instincts and it kind of drives her crazy. Wears a pastel blue two-piece with ruffles.
Danse; is in his element. Warm weather, fishing, grilling, bright-colored, gaudy-patterned shirts. This is his happy place. Gets a cooler of beer, a pole, and sits by the shore, soaking up sun like a cat. Lives out his ideal life as an old beach bum and for once, has a good day. This is Danse at his peak. He shows up in knee-length khaki shorts, socks and sandals, and a borderline-neon floral button up. Anything he catches, he grills over at Codsworth's gazebo. Spends his day fishing, bbqing, and drinking, and shocks everyone with the fact that, yes, Danse is capable of basic joy and relaxation. Just...very sparingly.
Deacon; Redhead. Unlike Cait, knows the divine agony that is a bad sunburn, and lathers himself in sunscreen. Wears a speedo, crocs, and an obnoxious sunscreen streak on his nose. Participates in volley ball, wrist is sprained by a hard serve from the Red Menace herself. Afterwards, lets Piper and later, MacCready, use him as a sculpture base. Seeing as his day was spent underneath piles of sand, didn't do much. Had a lot of drinks, though, courtesy of Piper engineering a long curly straw for him. Has to be dug out for BBQ against his will, wanted to spend the rest of his life as a mermaid. When he emerges, is caked in sand and looks like a golumn. All that sunscreen turned against him. For the next week, greets people with "Hi, I have so much sand in my ass, how ya doin'?"
Gage; Tends to dislike casual, hang-out activities on principle. Whereas Danse doesn't like them due to his social anxiety and gets nervous around people. Gage doesn't like them because he doesn't like people period. The beach is one such activity, with the added bonus of causing him physical pain. Due to his half-blindness, prolonged exposure to brightness really strains the one eye, so he sticks to Codsworth's gazebo for shade. The ocean is basically a giant disco ball and that shit triggers migraines for him. Spends the day observing the others and chainsmoking. Keeps tally of Cait's various volley ball crimes. Plays catch with Dogmeat until the pooch collapses from exhaustion. Generally does what Gage is always doing—keeping tabs and making notes. Also, mooching off free food.
Hancock; the thing about Hancock, is that it's difficult to keep him in order. You're rarely going to see him in a group, doing group pre-ordained stuff. He sticks around the others for maybe ten minutes before he wanders off to see whatever he can find. Comes back a while later with his pockets full of rocks, shells, even bones. Codsworth empties a bucket for him to put his treasure in, and Hancock's back out on the hunt. Spends his day beachcombing. Brings back stuff for MerDeacon, gets a big clump of kelp for the hair, and seashells for modesty. Hancock just paces up and the down the beach, pondering shit, collecting shit. Basically this image;
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MacCready; didn’t intend on sculpting a mermaid onto Deacon, but God presented him an opportunity. MacCready has based his entire life on taking opportunities given to him. Has so many fruity drinks as he crafts his masterpiece. Whereas Piper is more interested in forming the excavation site around the corpse of this behemoth sea monster, MacCready's more interested in giving the Deac very crude and childish features, such as breasts in the image of Deacon himself. But wait, aren't mermaids seals? Seals have multiple nipples, right? Guess we have to make more Deacon tits! This descent into madness might have something to do with the copious pina coladas he put away. Getting beaned in the head by Cait also probably didn't help. Wears gym shorts and a tank top.
Nick; Curie had the right idea. Only, Nick improves on it by moving his spot much, much farther down the beach. Takes a radio, wine coolers, and various books that he goes through over the day. Reads shlock romance pulp fiction, because he felt it more thematically appropriate to the beach. Has a few towels down for cushy-ness, being an old man. Needs his back supported. He wears shorts and a long, thin-material cardigan, almost like a robe. Wouldn't look out of place telling an officer he most definitely didn't kill his husband. Nick appears later at lunch/dinner/dinch, but until then, he's sequestering himself under an umbrella and he's having a moment of peace. Considered participating in whatever the others were doing at one point. Decided against it when he saw whatever the hell was happening with Deacon.
Piper; was almost a victim of Cait, dipped when a volley ball went past her head and it sounded like an actual bullet. Wisely moved out of the firing zone and began construction of a sandcastle. She blinked, and there was Deacon, and six nipple-Deacons. Doesn’t know how it happened. Didn't question it. Turned her castle into the excavation site of a prehistoric sea creature, washed ashore and buried beneath the sand. It pays to be adaptable like that. Piper spends a good chunk of the day pissing, as she's the type to need so much water when its hot out. She doesn't start slinging back fun cocktails until its lunch/dinner/dinch. Then, it's a cocktail for every hotdog, burger, serving of fish...and Piper can put away bbq. Wears a red halter one-piece.
Preston; is the only one to consistently survive Cait's bloodbath, so he keeps her busy, so as to let the others escape her rubbery death blows. Basically just plays ball with her until she gets tired, same as Gage with Dogmeat. Preston takes some breaks, and drinks water, but its a matter of attrition. Its an endurance test. He passes by the skin of his teeth. The game ends once Cait is lured away by bbq and alcohol. At that point, Preston is better considered a husk than a man. Drops an ice pack on the ground and lays face-down on it, and takes a nap like that.
X6-88; shows up in his usual black trench coat and not a single bead of sweat forms. Haunts the gazebo for sugary drinks and treats. Everyone tries to ignore him because they get second-hand heat stroke just looking at him. He's loathe to get near the water and loathe to get sand in his clothing. Becoming the Phantom of the George Foreman Grill was the only outcome for him. Backseat sous chef, constantly questioning Danse and Codsworth's methods or choices. Codsworth politely takes the criticism, and ignores it. Danse just chucks candy into the bushes to lure him away.
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tempobrucera · 1 year
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Peaches, Figs & Cherry Stems
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Pairing: Thomas x Reader Wordcount: 7.7k Summary: You become fascinated with Thomas eating fruit, and Thomas catches on, getting progressively flirtier with you while everyone around you is oblivious to your little game. Warnings: Food, Smut
Add yourself to my taglist.  / Masterlist
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It’s summer time in Italy and if you learned one thing it’s that summers in Italy are always hot. And this one is especially hot, even hotter than the last. Even with smothering yourself in sun cream your body feels like boiling and your cheeks are heating up for a different reason completely. 
Thomas climbed out of the pool moments ago. Water dripping down his body, his chest, his long legs. There are water droplets falling out of his hair and he decides to be an asshole and shakes his head while standing over you, water raining down on you. You don’t complain, it feels like a welcomed refreshment. 
However your cheeks heat up and you can feel yourself getting red-faced when one drop of water on his chest catches your eyes. Your gaze follows it travelling down his chest and then his tummy, right down to the waistband of his swimming trunks. Before your eyes travel down further you catch yourself and let your gaze glide up to his face again. 
He is biting in a slice of watermelon he must have taken when your eyes were occupied with something else. The watermelon juice running down his fingers makes you blush even more. You’re happy that your eyes are hidden behind the dark shades of your sunglasses and you let your sun hat glide into your face with one little movement. It’s better than to stare at him. 
You can still hear it in his voice, the smirk that you imagine is plastered all over his face, when he asks: “Want a slice?”
.#####.
You spent the day at the pool again, the sun is burning on your skin, it’s too hot for your liking. Watching Thomas from afar doesn’t help. He’s eating raspberries out of a small bowl that’s sitting on his stomach. Water droplets all over his body again. His lips and his tongue are a slight red-pink from the fruit he just swallowed when he bites his bottom lip. And you ask yourself why you agreed to go on a vacation trip with them. For two weeks, it’s only day two and you’re already feeling like losing your mind. Every time you see Thomas you are sure that he’s going to do something that has your insides turn, your mind cloud with desire and having you want. Or having you want to die on the spot - maybe you’re close to a sunstroke.
“Thomas,” you hear Ethan call from somewhere in the shade, “You’re supposed to share. And please get some sunscreen on your skin asap.”
Thomas grumbles something that sounds like I’m an adult, asshole but he still gets up. 
“I am just making sure you aren’t getting skin cancer.”
“Of course, mum!”
On the way inside Thomas drops the bowl of raspberries on your body, almost between your boobs. And then he disappears inside, Vic is snoozing on the sunlounger next to you, a sunburn starting to bloom just over her bikini bottoms.  
You’re completely lost in your own thoughts, and you only realise that Thomas is back when he’s towering over you blocking the sun and he grabs your wrist. You want to protest and ask what he’s doing when he already puts his lips around your index finger - and gets the raspberry of the fingertip. Lost in your thoughts you put some of the berries on your fingers earlier. Thomas lets your finger go and goes for the next one. If your earlier thought was that he’ll drive you insane, it now changed to you’ll black out.
“Mmhhhh,” he hums around your finger. His eyes cross your gaze when he pulls off. He takes a raspberry out of the bowl and holds it to your lips, without your agreement your lips open for him and the berry, then he pulls back completely. Ethan is squeezing his eyes at you from afar, you’re sure he only sees blurry, and Vic lets out a snore.
“Did you put suncream on?” Ethan asks.
“Yeeeeaaassss.”
You can see some white cream trapped in his happy trail and your mind reels and goes places where it shouldn’t go. Get your head out of the gutter, you scold yourself and you wonder if he knows. The smell is intoxicating, and it comes in waves when he leans over you to get the bowl of raspberries back - it’s still placed on your body, between your boobs. You think about his rough calloused fingertips against your skin and have to bite your lips. 
He leaves behind a cloud of suncream, raspberry, the chlorine smell of pool water drying on his skin, his body wash, cigarette smoke, faint sweat and sandalwood. You want to drown in it. There’s only his smell and confusion left when he’s back at the other side of the pool and he takes his glass.
“Cheers.”
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Making dinner later is a challenge. Damiano is trying to cook, you are making a salad, Vic and Thomas are causing havoc every time you turn your back on them while Ethan sits at the table nipping at his glass of wine, slapping Thomas’ ass when he’s on the way running into Damiano at full speed. He turns around to Ethan and squeals. Damiano drills the cooking spoon between his shoulder blades, tomato sauce all over his white tank top. 
“What the fu…,” Thomas turns back.
“Be helpful for once in your life,” Damiano tells him, “instead of being stupid.”
He lets out a tirade of Italian curse words but comes closer to where you are fighting with the pomegranate. You already took off the top of the fruit in your hands and sliced the skin. Thomas takes it out of your hands without asking. Pries it open with his own bare hands, his long fingers holding and simultaneously ripping it apart - but all the same he’s gentle. So gentle that it has you wondering. His fingers popping the blood red kernels out of the pulp right into the salad bowl. The faint red liquid running down his fingers, he isn’t even saying one word. But he looks at you when he’s done, when he grabs for the tea towel that you threw over your shoulder earlier. He still looks at you when he washes his hands, the red off the silver of his ring, and dries his hands.
“Thank you.” 
You don’t know why you feel like you want to cry. And for a split second you think he knows because he raises his hand to your face, your hair, before he lets it sink again without doing anything.
“There’s tomato sauce on my back,” he still looks at you, “Isn’t there?”
There’s a piece of pomegranate falling out of your hair when Thomas has left the kitchen to find Victoria again.
.#####.
Waking up from a loud splash wasn’t what you expected to rip you out of your more than pleasant dream. Sleepily you walk to the window to see who is responsible for your suffering. You’re surprised to see Thomas in the pool, smiling and waving his hand to greet you just when Vic joins him and dunks him under water.
After you get somewhat presentable, or at least what you can chalk up under presentable, you leave your room. On the way down you run into Ethan, who isn’t saying much, and looks as tired as you feel but he sits down with you when you get breakfast for yourself and offer him a coffee. Strategically you place yourself in a chair which allows you to look out of the big french windows. Best look at the pool. And Vic and Thomas - and the bowl of blueberries.
You can observe how Vic throws the blueberries for him and you smile when you see that he tries to catch them with his mouth. You can see him fail again and again. Berry after berry.
Ethan is too immersed with his phone to notice, and if he does he’s too polite to mention or call you out on it. Even when you get up, clear the table, set a new cup of coffee in front of him and leave, he only mumbles a short Thank you. Thomas is still failing to catch any of Victoria’s blueberries.
Just when you come through the door he finally catches one. He makes a slight courtesy in front of you and you do him the favour to clap. You don’t tell him that you watched how he missed all the other ones.
.#####.
Later in the morning Ethan and you both have your noses hidden behind books. Ethan a book with a title you already don’t understand and yours is behind a book you bought in a museum shop. 
You can hear the crinkly package of an ice cream sandwich being opened next to you but before Ethan can dig his teeth into it, Thomas' head appears behind Ethan’s book. He sniffs not unlike a bunny and you laugh when you realise that he’s sniffing out food and his next target is Ethan’s ice cream sandwich that he takes out of Ethan’s hand with one swift motion.
He licks around the edges, some strawberry ice cream on his lips that he licks away while looking at you, and only then he bites into it. 
“Nah,” he shakes his head and hands it back to Ethan who looks at him like he can’t believe what just happened.
“Why do you think I want something you just licked?”
.#####.
“Someone has to do the shopping,” Damiano says, trying to not look at anyone specific but he still looks at Ethan, “I already made a grocery list.”
“I’ll just pay someone to do that for us,” even with the sunglasses hiding most of her face you can still see her roll her eyes behind the shades.
“You don’t have to,” you say, also thinking about the small market you saw on your way, “I’m happy to do it. Good to get outside this house for a bit.”
“I’ll join,” Thomas chirps in. Four pairs of eyes are looking at him, all of them in different states of disbelief. “What? What she said, good to get out of the house.”
Vic raises one of her eyebrows.
“And as I will eat most of it, I might as well choose.”
“Great, having the house quiet for most of the day is a dream,” Damiano says, “Please leave as soon as you can.”
You do leave half an hour later, you in the passenger seat and Thomas driving. Smoking and the wind blowing through the open windows and his hair. 
Getting the groceries is easy, Thomas and you working through Damiano’s list from top to bottom. He picks out fruits really carefully, rotating them through his fingers, looking for spots and only taking the ones which he deems worthy enough to go into your small basket. He picks out some lychees he peels and eats straight away. Your eyes are trained on his hands, the fruit, and then his lips. He smiles at you when he offers you one. 
When you pick out vegetables Thomas looks suggestively at a cucumber, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You just roll your eyes and he giggles, but as soon as he has his back to you again you smile. 
“We should have some gelato,” Thomas says when all your errands are dealt with, “That ice cream sandwich was terrible.”
“What are you,” you laugh, “some kind of ice cream connoisseur?”
“Actually … Yes, let’s do some ice cream testing. I saw a shop in one of those alleys over you.”
The girl behind the counter looks intimidated when she sees Thomas step through the door, she almost drops the cone she’s just handing over to a happy customer. And her eyes go even bigger when he says: “Could I … just get a bit of everything, please?”
For some reason, and you believe the reason to be someone being starstruck, he gets what he asked for without any questions being asked or to deny him the request.
He takes two cups from her and two little wooden spoons. 
First he steals some pistachio gelato from the cup he handed you before sitting down in front of the little shop. Then he tries the peach that is in his own cup, and he closes his eyes in delight. When he notices your eyes lingering on him he gets another spoonful and feeds it to you from his spoon.
“Mmhhh.”
“Perfect.” 
.######.
It’s almost evening when the two of you are back from your little shopping trip. Damiano is already waiting, rummaging through your bags to find ingredients he needs to cook dinner. 
Thomas takes a mango and a knife and disappears outside to sit in the glowing evening sun. You follow him outside, Vic and Ethan are at the table as well. Ethan smoking, Vic painting his nails. But you only have eyes for Thomas and how he cuts the mango into small pieces. How he picks up a piece with his fingers to pop it between his lips and how he licks the sweetness from the corner of his mouth. 
It’s almost like he’s treasuring the taste, but at the same time he’s devouring it. There’s only one thought in your head: You want to know how everything tastes from his lips.
.#####.
When Damiano calls out that dinner is ready, Thomas is the one who jumps up and makes it inside the fastest.
“You could think we would starve him,” Ethan shakes his head.
But when you see the pasta Damiano cooked, you kind of get Thomas’ urgency to find a place at the table. The food smelling and looking delicious, making your stomach rumble. A gentle reminder that Thomas and you skipped lunch in favour of a gelato sampling.
“Thomas,” Ethan exclaims when he slurps the spaghetti into his mouth.
“What?” He says, “Compliments to the chef?”
Damiano rolls his eyes but takes the compliment with kiss hand, to Ethan’s dismay. You have to admit that it isn’t really sexy or appealing at all but it has Vic and you giggling while Ethan once again shakes his head.
.#####.
The next day feels slow and lazy. The most you do is getting in and out of the pool and reapplying sunscreen every now and then, all under Thomas’ watchful eyes. 
For lunch everyone’s creating their own pizza with the dough Damiano prepared the night before, so everyone can choose who’s pizza they want to try later. Thomas looks at your creation with interest and then looks back to his own.
“They are the same,” he tells you and when you have a closer look at his, you see that he’s right. 
“Oh.”
It’s a strange moment of connection that fades as quickly as it came but has you discussing the Top 10 pizza toppings while eating and Thomas jokingly proposing the idea of a pizza eating contest. You all know he would win. 
.#####.
The sound of laughter and splashing fills the air as Thomas and you engage in a playful game of catch in the pool. Thomas has a height advantage but you’re moving quicker when he doesn’t know how to coordinate his limbs. You both sit at the edge out of breath when Vic offers you a fig. 
As you bite into the fig, the sweet juice drips down your chin without you noticing, you barely notice Thomas who seems to be entranced by you.
“You know,” he says, leaning in closer so Victoria can’t hear him, “I’ve always heard that eating a fig is one of the most sensual experiences you can have."
“Is that so?” you ask, taking another bite, “Any other ideas to explore your senses?”
You decided there was no harm in flirting back, and Thomas’ laugh and sly smile reassures you with your decision. You laugh as well and you can feel the air around you charged with playful flirtation. 
“I might have some ideas.”
.#####.
Ethan decided to declare tonight movie night earlier in the day, writing it on a chalkboard, which Damiano primarily used to write down a menu for every day, in bold big red letters. Everyone followed the invitation you can see when you’re the last one to arrive. Luckily Thomas pads a free space next to him on the sofa that he saved for you.
As soon as you sit down, he puts a glass of white wine in your hand and a bowl of popcorn between your legs before he sneaks one arm around your back. 
Approximately it takes you fifteen minutes to forget what film Ethan picked to watch. The bowl of popcorn is between your legs. A place where Thomas’ other hand now travels to grab for the popcorn. You squirm and blush.
“I told you I have some ideas,” he says a little bit too loud and you expect to be called out but there’s just a Ssshhh from Damiano and Ethan gratefully smiling at him, nothing more. 
.######.
“I’ll cook today,” you tell Damiano over a cup of coffee during the early hours of the morning, “If you don’t mind.”
“You kidding?” He gives you a smile, the kitchen is quiet otherwise, everyone else still laying in bed, “I could do with a day just chilling and smoking pot.”
.#####.
For lunch you prepare a picnic, salad, fruits, cheese, sandwiches, and some freshly made raspberry lemonade. Thomas joins you in the kitchen from time to time. Sometimes to touch your back, to let his hands linger on your waist when he hugs you from behind but mostly to steal food from plates and bowls and baskets.
Only when you prepare the last item for your little picnic, a lemon tart, he stays in the kitchen without any signs of leaving. And you decide to leave him be and shift your attention back to your dough. 
One unfortunate moment Thomas leans his long neck over your shoulder, just when you’re adding flour to a bowl. It startles you so much that you jump, flour packet in hand, and some of the flour landing on your dress and some of it directly on Thomas’ cheek.
“Sorry,” you wipe it off his face apologetically. He smiles an honest smile at you, and the moment turns from embarrassing to cute with that. 
You offer him a slice of lemon and he takes it happily, almost as with the glee of a child. He bites into it and you can imagine how the juice explodes in his mouth, the tangy, sour but somehow still sweet flavour capturing his senses all at once. Thomas closes his eyes while savouring the flavour and then he seems to become aware that you’re watching him, your eyes intense and focused solely on him. 
Your eyes meet, the moment passes, but there’s a spark of attraction and desire you can’t quite place but you also can’t ignore. A shared moment of pleasure on a hot summer day. 
“Could you squeeze them for me?” You roll the lemons to him and point at the lemon squeezer press on the counter. When he gets the knife to cut them in half, you think this was a bad idea but he makes it without cutting off his fingers. 
He’s just about to say something, one half of lemon still in hand, and then a sudden burst of lemon juice hits your eye. 
“FUCK!” It burns and stings but it calms down at least slightly when you press a wet towel on it. And your initial shock quickly turns into banter. “Thomas, why did you do that?”
“Oh,” he looks at you playfully, “Now it’s my fault that you’re staring at me?”
Just when you want to answer, Ethan barges into the kitchen: “Can I help?”
“Yes,” you say - towel still on your eye, “You could span the parasol, get some blankets, take the plates and cutlery outside.”
“Oh,” he looks at your eye, “I heard screaming, everything okay?”
“Yes, just squirted into her eye,” Thomas admits sheepishly. 
“Squi- … Sorry, you did what now?” 
“The lemon,” you point at the culprit - Thomas who still has the lemon in his hand, “He squirted it into my eye. Actually take the menace out of my kitchen as well.”
“You sound like Damiano,” Thomas pouts at you but still leaves. Not that he has another choice when Ethan throws him over his shoulders and leaves for the door.
“Those sandwiches are lovely,” Vic says later, “And I’m excited to taste the lemon tart.”
“Went through a lot of trouble for that one,” Thomas says but you choose not to correct him. You went through all the trouble. However you playfully put a lemon slice into Thomas’ lemonade.
“Hey,” Vic squeaks, “Why is he getting special treatment?”
“Because I’m a really special boy.”
.#####.
For dinner preparations Thomas stays away from the kitchen, too busy playing guitar at the pool. You seek out Damiano’s help, he happily obliges and fires on the grill that’s on the terrace. You can conveniently hand him the things that need to be grilled while the air is filled with Vic’s laughter, the sound of Thomas' guitar and a cicada background concert. Damiano and you happily chatting from grill to kitchen window until he calls everyone for dinner.
Thomas looks at his plate and then up to you.
“Figs stuffed with goat's cheese and wrapped in prosciutto,” you tell him, “And Damiano grilled them. You know I’ve heard somewhere that eating a fig is one of the most sensual experiences you can have.”
He blushes and you know that your flirting just became more intentful with this small gesture of food. 
“Sexy little appetiser,” Vic laughs. 
Damiano plates the next round of food, so everyone is free to take what they desire. Steak, vegetables, salad and grilled stuffed portobello mushrooms and little stuffed tomatoes. Thomas’ eyes stay a bit too long on them before he takes something of everything.
“I see,” he says, “We have some kind of a theme going here. Everything is stuffed.”
Now it’s on you to blush, but everyone is still gleefully chewing their food, so you take your chance: “I guess you can think of other things too?”
“I had those filled zucchini boats lately,” Ethan says oblivious to Thomas and you shamelessly flirting right under everyone’s nose, “Lovely dish.”
“The dish,” Vic asks, “Or the girl?”
“Both,” Ethan says before he quickly puts a fork full of food into his mouth.
.#####.
Later when everyone else left for bed, Thomas takes a spread of cheese, crackers and grapes that’s still left from your lovely garden picnic outside and places it between you. He stumps out his cigarette before he picks up a grape and holds it up to your lips. You open your mouth, and the grape bursts with flavour. Thomas leans in and for a short moment in time you think he leans over to kiss the sweet taste of the grape from your lips but even this moment passes. 
Next you hold a grape up to Thomas’ lips and he takes it with a hum. The intimacy of the moment isn’t lost on you and you’re certain that isn’t on Thomas either, a felt sense of surrender to the pleasure of the moment. Somehow getting lost in each other, the world around you fading away as you focused on the simple joy of grapes and Thomas next to you. 
As the bunch of grapes dwindles, you find yourself with a sense of sadness once again. You don’t want the moment to end but you know it will and while you both savoured the last few grapes you took your time and relished in the moment.
When the grapes are gone, only cheese and crackers left, you both laid there for a few more heartbeats, basking in the afterglow of the experience. You both don’t need words to express what you were feeling, you knew that you shared something special. You both had surrendered to the moment, and in doing so, you found something truly beautiful.
.#####.
Ethan and you are both standing in front of the chalkboard in the kitchen the next morning.
we’re going out tonight
Is written on the board in Ethan’s handwriting.
FOR DINNER!!!!
Underneath in Damiano’s. 
“But …,” Ethan says, “there’s this fair close by, I thought that would be fun.”
“I booked a table,” Damiano says apologetically, “but tomorrow we’re going to the fair, I promise.”
.#####.
Lunch is an adventure, you daydream with your eyes open, Thomas always the centre of your gaze. 
Thomas is dangling cherries over his mouth while Vic happily captures his every move with her phone camera. Thomas once again came to the table only in his swimming trunks, his bare feet edging around yours under the table. 
“Who do you think can spit the pit the furthest?” Vic asks Ethan who are the only ones that haven’t touched the cherries yet.
“Thomas,” Ethan answers. 
“Okay,” Vic says, “My bet is on her. 50 Euro?”
They both lose, when Damiano ends up being crowned the winner of your cherry pit spitting contest.
“But I bet you can’t do this,” Thomas says before stuffing a cherry stem into his mouth.
You can see utmost concentration reflecting on his face. 
“Show off,” Damiano comments before he turns away to talk with Ethan and Vic. 
Thomas looks into your eyes the whole time, you can see his tongue move. Hot pleasure sparking up your spine. And then he sticks out his tongue, still looking at you, the cherry stem laying on his tongue, a knot in it. He takes it off his tongue, rinses it in his glass of water before he puts it into your hands and you look at the knot in the stem fascinated. 
“How did you do that?”
“I can teach you,” and when he’s sure that everyone is distracted by something else he adds: “You know, I can put it to good use somewhere else as well.”
.#####.
You have to admit that Damiano picked a lovely little restaurant, you can see the sea from the terrace. Even Ethan is happy exclaiming that he was here not too long ago with someone.
“Who’s this mysterious person you’re keeping away from us?” Thomas teases.
“Special,” is the only answer he gets and Thomas shrugs. 
You can’t decide on a cocktail when Ethan nicely offers his advice which is why your choice falls on a sparkling raspberry cocktail called Love Potion that comes with a popsicle served in your glass. 
You carefully take the popsicle out of your drink when it arrives and suck on it under Thomas watchful eyes. He squirms in his chair, it’s even visible to Victoria who asks him if everything is okay. It’s the first time that you notice - really notice - that you have an effect on him as well.
.#####.
The next day Thomas eats peaches when everyone else retreats from the sun for a bit. You’re feeling close to blacking out but it isn’t the sun that troubles you, it’s Thomas. 
You’re in the pool, cool water engulfing you, while Thomas sits on a chair, sucking some juice from his fingers before he takes another one and bites into the flesh. When he’s done he seats himself at the edge of the pool, feet in the water. 
“You didn’t wash your hand,” you call him out but swim closer to him, interested in his antics. 
 “Yes, but I thought …” he trails off, “You like peach, right?”
He puts his peach-soaked fingers on your lips and without thinking you suck on his fingers, savouring the taste of peaches and Thomas’ skin. You’re between his legs. Once again a shared moment of intimacy, the water creating a private oasis where you can let your guard down and explore your attraction. That is until Vic jumps into the pool, ass first. You pull back and Thomas lets his fingers plop out of your mouth before Vic looks at you two smiling and you both wave at her.
.#####.
Later Vic offers you a lollipop, you happily take it from her when you think about the popsicle and the reaction Thomas’ body showed to it. 
After a few minutes Thomas has to dip into the pool and dives under water. You take it as a small success after the peach.
.#####.
“Since when are you on your phone 24/7?” Thomas asks Ethan when you’re walking through the fairground. “Did Vic possess you? Or are you flirting? Is it special?”
“Stop being mean,” you elbow him in his side.
“It’s okay,” Ethan assures you, “Yes, really special, thanks for asking. She’s a writer and sent me this idea a few days ago, so I’m just trying to be useful to bounce off ideas.”
“Cute,” you say and take his phone from him. He looks at you confused but then Vic hands him cotton candy. “Let me take a pic of you with that, you can send it to them.”
“Wonderful idea,” Vic comments and you can hear Thomas whispering something that sounds like All this time I have been surrounded by secret romantics only.
It doesn’t take long for you and Thomas to lose sight of the other ones. It’s a beautiful beach setting, the sounds of waves crashing on the shore. And you sit down for a bit, Thomas enjoying the sweet taste of cotton candy that Vic handed to him as well, while the sun slowly sets on the horizon. You laugh and talk and he feeds you some of the sticky treat as the sky turns into a canvas of oranges and pinks. The salty sea breeze gently brushes your skin. Thomas teases you with his sticky fingers and playfully wipes them on your cheeks and your nose before you chase him down the boardwalk. 
When you catch up with him, you can see that he smeared some of the sticky sugar on his cheek while biting into the fluffy treat. You take a tissue for yourself to get rid of the sticky residue on your cheek and then take another one to wipe his cheek clean.
“Thanks, babe,” he says, his eyes sparkling with amusement, “You’re always looking out for me.”
You blush, feeling a warm sensation spread through your chest. 
“Secretly romantic yourself, huh?” 
.#####.
The candy cotton gone, Thomas is having a debate with himself if he wants chocolate covered strawberries or if he wants a candy apple before joining Ethan for a hot dog who just called to ask where you two got lost.
He decides for the apple, once again a sticky mess, sticking to his chin and you pass him a tissue. You can’t help but laugh.
“You’re a mess,” you say, smiling at him kindly. 
“I couldn’t resist, and this takes the longest to eat,” he grins, his eyes sparkling with joy, “Which means I can spend more time with you alone.”
You blushed, feeling a flutter in your stomach. You walked through the fair, Thomas taking your hand in his, admiring the brightly lit rides, the sound of children laughing and music blasting from booths with silly games. As you approach a small ferris wheel he looks at you, again a twinkle in his eye: “You want to go up?”
You hesitate for a few seconds, unsure if you’re ready for the heights. But you look at him and he’s still smiling.
“Sure, let’s do it.”
“I promise, I’m gonna hold your hand the whole time.”
As you board the ride and you begin your ascent, Thomas leans close to you, still holding your hand and whispers: "I'm glad we did this."
“Me too,” you say softly, feeling the rush of the wind and the uncomfortable rush of heights but the comfortable touch of Thomas’ hand in yours. As you reach the top of the ferris wheel he gently squeezes your hand.
“You know, I feel like we have a connection," he says, his voice low.
You can feel your heart race, not only from the rush anymore.
“I know what you mean,” you’re saying with a surge of courage. You talk about the last time you both have been on a ferris wheel and then your topic of conversation swiftly switches to what was the most stupid thing you did to impress someone to what was your biggest regret. 
As you make your way down the Ferris wheel, he keeps his arm around you, holding you close and making you feel safe and protected. And then the ride already stops before you know it. 
More than half of his candy apple is still uneaten and as he takes another bite he starts to twirl his apple on the stick, trying to impress you with his finesse. He spins the apple faster and faster, trying to look impressive. You watch him with amusement before giving him a daring smile. Then he stops and takes a huge bite of the apple but as he does he accidentally bites into the stick, causing the apple to fall to the ground. You burst out laughing, and Thomas blushes, a hint of embarrassment. 
“Maybe it’s time to find the others.”
You find them ten minutes later in front of the hot dog stand Ethan mentioned earlier.
“Did you get lost or something?” Ethan asks.
“We got sidetracked,” you say, “By food and the ferris wheel.”
Vic looks at Thomas, disappointment visible on her face: “Hey, I want to go on the ferris wheel with you.”
“Sorry,” he grins, “Maybe ask Damiano.”
“Hell fucking no!” he shouts. 
“Maybe Eth here is interested,” Thomas suggests, “When he can leave his phone for a minute or two. Or maybe you aren’t interesting enough, Vic. Would she be crazy enough to go on a ride with you?”
Ethan looks up from his phone, you can see how he just sent another photo from when Thomas and you were lost. Not very Ethan like and when he sees your questioning gaze he says: “Everything for a little bit of joy, you know.” Then he looks at Thomas, “Yes! And I would hold they hand the whole time while watching the sun.”
“A crazy thing to do,” Damiano chirps in.
“Love story of the summer,” Vic smiles at Ethan, “Happy for you.”
Thomas winks at you when your gaze crosses. 
.#####.
Thomas has a frappuccino and strawberries for breakfast the next morning when you come into the kitchen in your pyjamas, the rest of the house still quiet. 
He takes small sips of his pink drink while maintaining eye contact with you. Then he takes it a step further, running his tongue over his lips after he had a sip. Next he playfully dips his finger into the whipped cream but instead of offering it to you, initiating physical contact this way, he licks the cream off himself and lets out a satisfied moan. Still looking into your eyes, it’s a bold move but by now you don’t expect anything less from him and when he takes another sip he lets some whipped cream get on his nose. 
“Oops,” he says playfully, “Would you mind helping me?”
You know, he did it because of the night at the fair prior, and it’s kind of silly and cute in it’s own way.
“That the connection you talked about?” you ask.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he says, “I love the day long foreplay, really enjoying it, but I also love talking with you, and listening to your ideas and sharing my thoughts with you.”
He grabs your waist and gently pulls you down in his lap. 
“I love conversations with you too.” And then you grin when you see Thomas' soft gaze, you know it’ll take him off guard. “Foreplay you said, hmmmm?”
“Uhhhm,” he squirms under you, “Yeah.”
He takes a strawberry and takes it between his teeth, edges closer to you. Your hand on his stubbly cheek. You take it off him with your lips and it’s the first time you feel his lips on your, a kiss. He takes another strawberry that you steal from him and he lets his tongue dance around yours for a few minutes before he bites your tongue and you moan into his mouth. 
You wonder how everyone is still oblivious to what you two are doing.
.#####.
For lunch Thomas drinks red wine across from you. Lovely colour on his lips, against his pale skin. He takes notes out of your book, still remembering the fig, red lips and wine dripping down his chin. 
He bats his eyelashes at you innocently.
You want to kiss the spill away but he takes a napkin before anyone else can notice.
.#####.
That night Damiano serves champagne with dinner and you decide to be bold. Even bolder than Thomas, you don’t care that everyone is watching when some of your drink drips down your chin.
“What the fuck is going on?” Vic asks, “How did you both get stupid? He somehow can’t eat normally anymore, you’re spilling everything over yourself. Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m great,” you answer, “Just spilled something.”
Thomas looks at you fascinated. A little bit of pride sparking in his eyes, his gaze still at your lips while you’re thinking about all the things you want to do to him.
The rest of the dinner is quiet and civilised, no one calling you out on your bullshit, or stopping you to get deeper into this. After you finish your plate you get up and outside to clear your head.
Thomas follows you only minutes later to the back of the garden, hidden by trees and plants. He has the bottle of champagne in hand.
“Whatever you just thought of, you can do it, you know.”
He hands you the bottle. Thomas moans loud when you climb into his lap, tipping some champagne into his mouth that he willingly opens for you.
“God, Thomas. Stop masturbating in the wild,” you can hear Damiano say from the terrace and you quietly laugh against Thomas’ neck. 
You let some spill over Thomas’ neck before you get some champagne on Thomas’ nipples and you lick the liquid away. Thomas shudders and moans under you, quieter this time. There’s champagne on his stomach and some that you lick out of his navel. Thomas squirms more and more under you the closer you get to his dick. He gasps when you spill cold champagne over it and lightly blow against the tip. Thomas’ hand grabs for your hair and you moan as well. He squirms more with every lick, every kiss to his sensitive skin.
“Fuck.”
You don’t do more than french kissing him but every reaction shows you that it does something for him. 
“Fuck, I’m not gonna be able to hold that.”
You teasingly let your tongue play with his tip, which already draw the most moans out of him before, now the moans are turning into little whimpers before he bucks up his hips and cums. 
“Sorry,” he says and uses his shirt to get the cum off your face, “I … I didn’t touch myself since we started this.”
“Interesting,” it’s absolutely not what you expected and you shamefully think about the times you touched yourself, you blush. Thomas looks at you. “You think you could do that again?”
His eyes go wide, another whimper escaping his lips.
“Before we fuck fuck?”
“That’s a possibility?”
“Oh, hell yes,” you laugh and Thomas enthusiastically nods his head. “No touching for you but maybe you can show me what that talented tongue can do with other things than a cherry stem later?”
“Yes,” you can feel his breath against the skin of your neck, “And then in a few days we can … switch?”
“Sure,” you say and leave another kiss on his lips before you get up.
You can't help but feel a sense of closeness and vulnerability, as if you're sharing a secret that only the pool water can hear.
On the way inside you see Damiano sitting by the open window and looking at you shocked when you enter from outside.
“Oh god, I am soooo sorry … On Thomas’ behalf.”
“What?”
“Wait, did you not he- see him?”
“No, I did, he sits in the grass,” you smile at him, “He smokes.”
“Thank god.”
He doesn’t know that you just licked off champagne from Thomas’ nipples. And his dick.
.#####.
Thomas joins you in your room half an hour later when you’re just taking a shower. As the warm water cascaded down your body, you let out a contented sigh. You always loved the soothing feeling a shower gives you. You close your eyes and tilt your head back, letting the water wash away every thought that exists in your head.
You suddenly hear the bathroom open and footsteps approaching, you turn around and expect to see Thomas just grabbing a towel or to announce that he’s there but to your surprise he undresses himself and walks straight towards the shower.
“Hey,” you laugh, “What are you doing?”
“I couldn’t resist,” he smirks, “And I think I promised this talented tongue to someone.”
He steps into the shower and wraps his long arms around you. 
You lean into Thomas’ embrace and tilt your head up, meeting his lips in a gentle kiss. Your bodies pressing together, the water cascading down your skin as you explore each other's mouths.
As you continue to kiss, Thomas’ hands begin to wander, tracing patterns over your wet skin. You shiver at his touch, feeling a familiar warmth building between your legs. You press your body closer to his, silently asking for more.
He responds by trailing kisses down your neck and across your collarbone, sending more shivers down your spine. Thomas nibbles gently at your earlobe, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. You reach up and tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. 
You stay there in the shower, lost in each other. Reluctantly, you pull away from each other and step out of the shower, wrapping each other in towels. Drying him you give him a knowing look, both of you feeling the heat between you.
He slowly leads you to your bed and follows closely after you when you fall down on it and then he’s between your legs. Smiling up to you. 
“So,” you smile at him - getting your hands into his hair, “That talented tongue you’re so proud of?”
Thomas nods between your thighs, his eyes dark with desire as he takes in the sight before him. With a shy kiss, he begins to explore every inch of your sensitive flesh. His tongue tracing every curve and fold with precision and skill. As you catch your breath, you look down at him and see the look of satisfaction and pride on his face. You smile and run your fingers through his hair, pulling a little harder. 
As he continues to tease and tantalise you, you find yourself succumbing to the pleasure building within you, your breath coming in short gasps, arching your hips towards him and moaning with each flick of his tongue, and gentle suck of his lips. There’s a knock coming from Damiano’s room above and Thomas laughs when you can hear Damiano shout of the window to please stop. 
The sensations become more intense with each passing moment. His tongue delves deeper, until finally you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge. You cling to the sheets as you shudder with ecstasy, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride the waves of your orgasm. As you come down from the peak of pleasure, Thomas’ face comes into view, his eyes full of satisfaction as he gazes at you with reverence.
You lay there, panting and sweating, feeling a sense of euphoria sweep over you. You start smiling when Thomas pulls himself up to lay beside you, wrapping his arms around you. Holding you close. Your bodies entwine, and you bask in the warmth and comfort of each other's embrace.
When you can finally breathe again, you’re both flushed, your bodies still buzzing with desire. 
"I think we've discovered the most sensual experience of all," you say.
He smiles, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 
"Oh, I think we've only just begun to scratch the surface here.”
As the night progresses you find yourself lost in each other’s company. Talking about everything and nothing. The dimly lit room seems to glow with a sense of intimacy all around you when Thomas falls asleep in his arms.
.#####.
The next morning there are no restraints anymore, you leave for the kitchen together but Thomas is still playing his games when Vic joins you at the table, still oblivious to everything.
Thomas chooses pineapple, bread and takes some honey, an unusual choice for him, but when he gets back to the table you know why he all of a sudden felt the craving for it. While he tries to get honey on his slice of bread, he drips honey on his thigh. On a spot you licked champagne off his skin last night. 
 “What a dilemma,” he says and Vic laughs while you blush. And somehow get even redder when Damiano enters the room.
“When?” he looks at you, then at Thomas, “When and where did this happen?”
“Here,” Thomas says, using his fingers to delicately take off a piece of pineapple from his plate, taking a playful bite first before he runs it along your lips, “Right under all your noses.”
Victoria looks at you shocked, and also searching for guidance in what’s going on: “Wait, what? You two are … Wait, are you fucking?” She slaps his shoulder. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“We didn’t even fuck yet,” Thomas says.
It’s the first time Ethan says something: “Well, whatever you two did last night, I’m sure it counts as sex.”
“Please wait with the fucking until you’re home,” Damiano looks at you, “Please.”
Thomas pouts at you from the side and shakes his head, probably thinking about the fact that he isn’t allowed to touch himself until then.
“Sure, that’s only a week.”
.#####.
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bonefall · 10 months
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What Revelation did each leader get?
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Gray Wing coming down from Heaven to bring revelations to the founders
To each founder, xe admonished the flaws that had lead them there on that day. Xe warned that if they did not change their ways, it would be the undoing of themselves as well as their Clan.
To Thunder Storm...
He had never heard the sermons of Gray Wing in life, and yet, he knew xeir teachings better than any of the cats many years his senior. He was already a leader when he should just be leaving his boyhood, and he'd gotten to this position by challenging that which he had been told, and acting in righteous fury when others held their tongues.
So for him, Gray Wing the Wise tells him that he is about to enter a new era. He will not be an underdog, but a powerful warlord, and he must must be weary of the line between justice and revenge.
"The flame that cooks creates, but beware the wildfire that burns away the wood. When you act upon your rage, you must be sure it does not act upon you."
To River's Ripple...
You have only ever acted on pleasure. For passion of your friends, for love of food, desire of things that shine. Like a petal on the river, you have let the flow of life lead you. It lead you into the claws of Clear Sky, your father and his army here to save you, and a dozen cats into their graves tonight.
Though you've tried to avoid it, you must realize now that the lazy river ripples with power in every muscle. Your people will look to you now, just as the water flows through the canal it has carved.
"The peace within you is unique, and meant to be shared with those around you. This is a strength; it is your truancy that is a weakness. Accept the responsibility of being the river that flows, or your own weight shall wash away your kingdom."
To Tall Shadow...
This is where xe began to get angry, but the black-furred leader bowed her head humbly.
Gray Wing laid into how she had used xis name to justify her own ends, putting clan-interest above forest-prosperity, making outsiders out of cats xe had commanded to enfold. She had turned cats into pawns for bargaining, and lost sight of their lives in the process.
"You have failed to break your own legacy, and will watch as someone you love is broken upon it. This is not a threat but a warning; make your heart a refuge for the lost and weary, for you will be judged on how you pick up the pieces."
(TN: "Dark Heart of the Forest comes from a translation quirk here, xey tell her to 'shade her heart' which in Clanmew means to make it a relief from the hot sun.")
To The Wind Runner...
Ambitious, opportunistic, and vindictive. She united many cats who had broken off from the River Kingdom, but only invented a brand new cage for them all. The Wind Runner was out for herself and her own family-- total self-interest.
To her, Gray Wing was furious but simple; "You came for a taste of war and now you choke on it. If you keep treating your cats as tools for power, you will find hounds behind you. It's time for you to serve them instead of having them serve you; let go of grudges, open your mind, grow."
To Clear Sky...
Lulled into a sense of smug security, he had relaxed. After all, at the end of the day... it was all their fault for trying to take what was supposed to belong to him. He was just trying to make sure his cats never go hungry; his littermate would see that.
"LISTEN HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT"
"This all comes back to you, Clear Sky. You did this."
"What?! They were the ones who--"
"You killed our brother, Jagged Peak! Rejected a sign from your ancestors and twisted my words to suit yourself! Tried to kill your own mate and son!"
"I WAS JUST TRYING TO--"
A final clap of thunder shook the clearing. Perhaps Clear Sky could shout down anyone else who tried to stand up to him in the past; but not the Ancestors. Not at a graveyard of his own making.
"Never before have you truly listened to another person, nor changed your mind once you'd made it up. Do not take our mercy as foolishness, you will decide if my words are warning or prophecy. Your greed will split the sky in two, but the more you grab, the less you will hold. Greed will make all the gifts we will give you rot beneath your own pelt; Unite or Die, Clear Sky."
Before xey finish, they repeat it to all of them. "Unite or die."
After this, they explain that their next task is to properly bury all of the victims of the fight. As reward, each leader will be given nine lives to lead their people, and explore that which was revealed on this night.
Each revelation ties into what the leader will be doing next. Most are prophecies, some are just guidance. Like Gray Wing said; it is up to them if the words are warning or prophecy.
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oumaheroes · 11 months
Text
Do Not Go Gentle
Cymru
Albion
Alba
Warnings for death
--------------------
Ériu
Ériu first dies when he is too old.
They’re all there now, his new brothers along with himself and Alba. Young Cymru, short, stout, and gentle. Albion younger still, all bones and teeth and impatience. Mama is gone. Lost somewhere a few years ago, when they woke up one morning to find her missing, nothing there but her favourite cloak laid over them all still warm with the smell of her. Cymru too, lain awake teary eyed and refusing to speak of it.
He is ten, he thinks, physically. Two hundred, maybe more. Ériu’s body is taller, shadow longer and fuller. He feels more capable, at any rate, and notices how their people change in their manner towards him, parental to deferential, opinions asked for more and more. His people, his brothers’, theirs- the lines between them grow sharper every year.
Ériu is careful.
Does not go out alone in bad weather. Prays to the Gods before crossing the sea, never goes in when it is rough. Walks along paths well-trodden unless in a group, plans meticulous watches with Alba when they travel alone together at night, listening keenly to the hungry sounds of the forest whilst the other sleeps. He thinks before he does, debates and considers the risks before every action. Where is the danger? What could happen? How can I stop it?
Alba knows what he runs from. He says Ériu is too cautious. Says that death will come for him eventually and putting it off will only make it worse. Says that Mama spoilt him with her fretting and that he is rotting inside for the privilege. Despite himself, Ériu knows that he is right. It is worse, waiting with it. The expectation and fear of the inevitable fermenting inside him, growing and swelling and making him throw away food he cannot afford to waste because he is unable to convince himself that the colour is right.
But Ériu does not want to die. He hears Alba cry out sometimes at night, knows that he muffles the dark memories of one particular rainy day into his pack and pulls Albion closer when he veers towards deep water. And Ériu recoils from it.
Death is a funny thing.
It comes to the careful anyway.
--------------------
It is already hot. Sun high in the sky and the morning is clear and cloudless.
Albion lazes fat in the shade of a bush, aimlessly pulling blackcurrants off the branches that lie close overhead to drop into his waiting mouth. Alba glares across the meadow towards the distant hills, feet a tap tap tapping an anxious tattoo on the banks of hedgerows.
Cymru is not there.
‘He knows we need to go.’ Alba says, ‘Where the fuck is he?’
‘He’ll be fine.’ Ériu says. ‘He’ll be back in a minute.’
Ériu is mending his fishing nets, the weave unthreading in the middle to let desperate, lucky fish slip through. They were going to the coast, to the stretch of land that met their shared sea for them to travel back across. He does not want to go. The land they are in at the moment feels more like home to him, this side of the water, and he is more than happy to indulge Cymru’s unintentional delays.
Alba seems to know it. He turns to glare at him, his bags already packed and slung over one arm.  ‘When did you notice him go?’
‘He’s fine.’
‘He’s not here though, is he.’
‘He’s only gone for a walk. You know he likes being up high; I bet he’s gone up to the top there to see the view and sit a while. He’s been gone since sunrise so he’ll be back soon.’
‘No, he won’t.’
Both of them stop to stare at Albion, still happily on his back in the shade.
Albion must feel their eyes because he sits up, looking defensive as if expecting to be proven wrong. He grabs for some more currants higher up, tunic riding up as he stretches, juice staining his hands, and points out the suddenly obvious, ‘He took his bag with him, didn’t he.’
Cymru did.
Alba swears and kicks at the dirt, looking towards to the sky anxiously as if it were about to break. ‘We won’t get to the village in time if we don’t go now.’
‘We can set off tomorrow.’ Albion points out but Alba’s not listening. They’ve all been this side of the sea for a while and Ériu guesses that Alba is feeling anxious for home, wanting to feel more himself as he does there than here. The coast is a week’s walk away and the weather can change from bright to brutal in a blink. Alba will not take them if the skies change.
‘I’ll get him,’ Ériu says. He folds his net away and stands, sharing a knowing look with Alba who turns away, hiding his expression. ‘I’ll be back before night.’
‘Can I come?’
‘No. You’re too slow.’ Alba clamps a hand around Albion’s arm and Ériu leaves before things get heated.
It is a nice walk. Ériu can see why Cymru chose it. Animal trails wind up the slowly rising hill, a narrow line through bushes and grasses flanked tall either side until Ériu stumbles out into the clear again, unaware of how high he is until he sees the grasslands roll away from under him in a gentle bulge of earth, green and dappled with trees. He would stop here, if it were him. He’d settle down with some food, right as the terrain changed, and watch the world go by from his midway point between two realms, not quite above, not quite below.
But Cymru likes to see the whole world beneath his feet and so Ériu pushes on, feeling the burn in his muscles and the sweat on his skin as the incline gets steeper and the paths gets rockier- single, large boulders cresting from the soil until they all blend together in bursts.
Ériu finds him as the sun begins to descend. Cymru is right at the top as he’d expected, on the edge of an overhang and content on his stomach. He has his whole upper half, arms, chest, and head, dangling over the edge, a stick in hand to poke at some stones below. The soon to be darkening sky and the fact that he cannot see his brother’s head makes Ériu’s gut flash with fear. He imagines Cymru falling, sees him vanish over the edge before Ériu can stop him, his hands clutching at nothing but air before he too then falls. Down down, neck snapping, bones breaking, darkness waiting for them at the hard, lonely bottom.
Two strides and he wrenches Cymru sharply back by the collar, ignoring his yelp of pain to drag him away from the edge. Ériu staggers with the weight of him, rocks rolling underfoot, and they both splay back into the scraggly grass. Something sharp nicks him in the shin- an edge of a rock, disturbed and jagged- but Ériu is too panicked to care.
‘What on earth are you doing!’ he shouts, scrabbling to his feet- Cymru is okay, he’s there-, ‘You know we were supposed to be leaving today.’
‘I’m sorry!’ Cyrmu rolls up to his knees, face dusty and shocked, ‘I thought that I’d only be quick-‘
‘Don’t be a dammed liar; you’ve got your bag with you.’
Cymru averts his eyes, his reasons stuck tight between his lips and Ériu is too relieved he’s away from the edge to take the time to pry them free.
Ériu clips him around the ear, throws Cymru’s bag into his chest, and, without a word, stalks away to lead them down again.
He thinks of it again as they go. Hears the crunching sound of Cymru’s shoes on the loose stones and dry twigs as snapping bone against flesh. Imagines the tumbling fury of it in his mind’s eye, the all-encompassing agony of that impact. He grabs Cymru’s hand to tug him along faster and doesn’t let go until they’re deep into the bushes again, edge of the hill hidden from view and its deadly incline gentler.
He checks them over as they stop to rest near the base where the lands smooths almost flat. Cymru has some scratches to his hands from breaking his fall and Ériu himself has a cut across his shin, no bigger than an inch in length. But nothing more. A worthy price to pay, he thinks, compared to what could have been.
--------------------
The next morning, the split skin around his shin is hot.
‘What’s wrong?’
The next, it is even hotter.
‘Hey.’
The third day, worse. When he changes the shoddily done wrapping Ériu smells that it has festered. The panic sets in. He hears his brothers down the stream from him, two talking, one laughing, and cold fingers grip inside his chest and squeeze him tight enough to close his throat.
He tracks the growth of the darkening, reddening skin by each freckle and mole it passes, willing it desperately to stop. With each new conquest it makes, the feelings of dread grow stronger and colder, and the more he pushes his reality away.
Cool hand in his own. Cymru stares up at him, worried. ‘You’re limping.’
It usually goes away. Why isn’t it going away.
‘Hurt my ankle.’ Ériu says and flicks Cymru’s nose to stop him frowning. ‘It’ll be fine by night time.’
‘You were limping yesterday.’ Cymru apparently won’t be distracted, ‘But it’s worse now.’
Ériu shrugs and forces himself to stand straighter. It is hot. Cloudless skies and a burning sun. What he wouldn’t do for a rest by a cool lake.
It was only small. It can’t be too bad; it was only small. Small things heal.
Ériu grips the strap of his bag and carries on.
Cymru keeps more silences than just his own. He slows his pace to match Ériu’s and takes Albion’s bag from him to make him look excusably more laden. When Alba calls to hurry them as the sun goes down, it is Cymru he focuses on.
--------------------
‘Show me.’
Alba by firelight, hair the colour of polished bronze. He could only be distracted for so long.
Cymru and Albion sleep nearby. Ériu eyes them, then Alba, and slowly, carefully, rolls up his trouser leg to share his nightmare.
It is bad. Something has got into him, under his skin and down further and through the bone. Alba comes over to see better and they both analyse the now weeping, stinking sore with cool, blank faces. The leg is starting to swell.
‘How long?’
‘Four days. It keeps going.’
Alba nods and licks his lips. Goes to touch Ériu’s poor leg, then doesn’t. ‘We need to go to the people. Maybe the rot can be stopped.’
Ériu hesitates, then nods. Allows hope in and forces himself to forget briefly all of the memories he has been replaying of the final hours of writhing men and sobbing children, their skin sore and angry just like his after something tore at it. ‘There’s a settlement near the river. It’s not too much of a detour.’
Alba’s eyes are soft. It makes Ériu’s stomach tighten with cold again, ‘Can you get there?’
‘Yes.’ Ériu says firmly.
Alba nods, ‘Alright.’
He helps Ériu wrap it for the night, newly washed linen that one of them could have used as a shirt. Instead, it is used to hold Ériu together, and he and Alba lay quietly side by side, watching the stars through the trees and listening to the snap of the fire.
It helps, if only for a night.
When their people greet them, Ériu can hardly walk.
Thoughts do not stick with him long. He steadily worsens, the final steps are a blur, and he is tipped from Alba’s arms into a strangers’, hot cheeks pressed to shoulders as he’s carried up the mound at a run.
Then a house.
A fire.
Some blankets, then none. Cool air on his skin, a small hand in his own. The fur of heavy pelts, the cool lightness of linen- something soft under him. Wetness on his forehead. Voices around him, talking and talking and talking but no sense in any of it that he can catch.
Something presses on his leg and clarity bursts in shrieking, the agonising pain flooding up and through him to escape high and shrill, a sound unlike anything he has ever made before. He sees his leg through tears, the skin bubbling and curling away from the angry red centre, and he kicks out to be free of all of it.
Someone is crying.
Darkness swims on the edges but Ériu refuses to go.
--------------------
‘I can make it quick.’ Alba is above him. His expression is serious.
They are alone. This Ériu knows by the air, the lightness of few people in a large space, and that he can hear nothing but absences and his own laboured breathing.
He wants Mama.
Alba shifts beside him. He glances about, turning to look over his shoulder before leaning close to whisper, ‘If you want me to, I can do it. I can make it go faster.’
Ériu weakly shakes his head and whimpers, temples pulsing.
‘Shhh.’ Alba’s hand cups his cheek and he strokes Ériu’s hot skin with his thumb, ‘It will be okay.’
‘No…’
‘It will be better than this. This is the worst part.’ Alba looks from one eye to the other, a horrible, knowing look in his eye. He looks older, haunted, ‘I promise.’
Ériu shakes his head again. His leg burns, it is hard to focus, but he knows exactly what his brother is offering. Death has got to Alba already, and it has eaten away at the gift of innocence that childhood once granted him to be replaced with something bitter and hard. It was a look that Mama once sometimes had, gazing off across fields to something that only she could see and remember. It is a look Ériu is fated to share.
He does not want it. Not yet. He does not wish to know how much death stings, does not wish to return changed. He has seen too much life for this moment to be easy, Alba had been right with his warnings. Worse than the fear of the unknown was the fear of the known that was doomed to come.
Life kicks inside his chest, a silly mortal desire he hasn’t yet tested.
‘It is happening, whether you like it or not.’ Alba brushes the tears from under Ériu’s eyes, ‘There is only one thing left.’
What if he does not return? What if someone else returns inside of him, someone new?
‘Let me make it easier.’
Ériu’s eyes drift to the smoke hole in the thatched ceiling above. Smoke curls past herbs strung to dry in the rafters, yarrow and rosemary and nettles, and Ériu watches as it unfurls towards the heavens.
--------------------
Alba lied.
There are no words to describe the agony that follows.
--------------------
Ériu wakes slowly.
Someone is humming, fingers playing in his hair.
Ériu opens his eyes to find Albion sitting cross-legged next to him on the floor. He stops humming when he sees that Ériu is awake but continues to brush his fingers through his hair, seemingly unbothered by the gritty feel of it.
‘Finally. You took ages.’ Albion glances at him, then away. His eyes are red, ‘Thought you might be dead for real.’
‘You’d be lucky.’ Ériu’s throat is dry and dusty but his voice is still there.
Albion grins and gets up to get him water, carefully and quietly stepping around Cymru still asleep next to him. Alba is there too, arm around Cymru as if to keep him in place.
The house is communal. People are everywhere but they’re a polite distance away, giving Ériu’s family their space whilst still being within help’s easy reach. Ériu lifts a stiff arm out of his blankets to touch the hard, dry earth beneath the floor’s rushes, and knows exactly where and who he is.
--------------------
When North arrives, Ériu is conflicted.
Life is different now. Softer in as many ways as it is harder and death wears different disguises than the ones Ériu grew up with.
His youngest brother has clean drinking water, good food. A varied diet that is richer than anything Ériu would once have ever been able to imagine- fruits and vegetables and meats that still sometimes feel new to him. North’s bed is warm, and guaranteed each night. The medical men and women around him are highly trained, their science always advancing, and his clothes are well made and tailored for the weather. He has several homes, and is always welcome in all of them.
North has four grown men around him, thousands of years’ experience to each of them, who want for him a life they hadn’t been lucky enough to have themselves. North will not die from silly mistakes.
But North does need to die.
Ériu balances fate with reasoning. Lets North drive alone at night, even though he cannot legally do so. Turns the other way when North takes up smoking in parks with newly made human friends. Ignores any signs of reckless behaviour that could easily be curbed or prevented.
Only Cymru disagrees. For reasons Ériu doesn’t understand, Cymru frets like Mama once did, watching North carefully as if making up for a secret past failing.
It is a fruitless effort. North needs to know what it is to feel the edges of mortality, as all of them know. And Ériu knows that waiting will only ever make it worse.
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creelteeth · 2 years
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Your perv Steve writing is so so good!! Absolutely love everything you put out about him. My food for thought— imagine perv Steve cumming in innocent/oblivious reader’s panties before she gets out of the shower and she puts them on thinking she just didn’t dry them (or herself) properly 😳😳 Steve’s head would explode
ok first of all ily ! im glad u enjoy what i put out!! second of all , this made my brain go fuzzy. u don’t understand the way perv!steve + panties drives me crazy
sharing an apartment with steve was a dream for both of you. It elated him in ways you didn’t even know about but that was neither here nor there. one of his favorite things about having constant access to you was the shared bathroom. the bathroom that connected your two bedrooms by having an entry on either side. because of that he was able to appease himself very easily. you were always so oblivious to the door that led to steve’s door, in fact he was certain you’d forgotten about it completely.
you’re such a ditzy little thing— never remembering to check if you locked both doors before hopping into the shower.
today was no different from any other. you’d come home from work and went right to the bathroom, stripping your clothes from the day to treat yourself to a very long shower. the minute steve heard the faucet turn on, he felt himself growing hard. it was routine at this point— routine for him to sneak into the bathroom from his side. he watched you through a small gap in the curtain. always waiting for when you put your head under the water to tip toe inside.
normally he’d go for the dirty hamper, grabbing one of your socks or dirty underwear to relieve himself into. he’d lean up against the bathroom sink, wrapping the fabric around the sensitive tip of his cock and fuck into it until he came. today he was met with a discovery. this time you’d laid your pajamas out on the counter, the preciseness of the display made steve’s cock ache. he looked over the pretty pink nightie , next to it a pair of panties in the same shade and socks to match.
one hand palmed desperately at his leaky tip while the other grazed over the pristine fabric. there was something about the image that made his stomach churn. perhaps, it was the softness of everything, and his unrelenting urge to completely ruin you. since he couldn’t have that he figured he’d settle for ruining your clothes instead. he looked over his shoulder to see what point in your shower routinely you were, perking an ear up to listen out for your hums.
when he got confirmation you were still busy he grabbed up the pink cotton underwear. immediately yanking his pants down to bunch around his thighs. it was almost embarrassing for him to think about just how the sight of some underwear made him so unimaginably hard but that was just the effect you had on him. he knew he had to be quick considering you were already at the point of conditioning your hair when he got his cock out. holding the panties open in his hand, he smeared a stick line of precum down the center of the pair. pointing his tip at the crotch he made rapid and desperate tugs of his cock.
considering this a test of your obliviousness— steve wanted to see if you’d even recognized the soiled mess he was about to make. he leaned forward against the bathroom door frame, shoulder propping himself up as he dragged the sensitive end of his cock against the clothing you were about to put on. lidded eyes watching your silhouette through the plastic curtain, listening to your pretty hums.
oh fuck— ..
he muttered a mess of whispers, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. it was a wonder you didn’t hear him panting through his end. hot sticky ropes of cum spilling out of his big swollen tip into the clean cotton.
once he’d come down from his high he stood up, bringing his pants back up. he placed the soaked pair of underwear back in their previous position before sneaking back through to his bedroom.
you’d gotten out, went about your business. doing your hair, putting lotion on, then getting dressed. when you pulled the underwear up over yourself you noticed they felt a bit cold against your skin. Not thinking too much of it, you exited the bathroom through your side to go meet steve out in the living room. took a few steps for you to notice the fabric still felt strange. walking out into the open space, you paused in your tracks. steve who was now sitting very awkwardly on the couch noticed the confusion in your face.
“what’s the matter, pumpkin?” he asked, trying to feign cluelessness.
you squished your legs together at his question— feeling the fabric squelch against your pussy made you huff.
“nothing..” you shrugged, going to sit next to him on the couch, “.. think i got my underwear wet when i was getting out of the shower.”
he couldn’t manage a response to what you said, a cough sputtering out of him when he realize he’d gotten away with his perverted behavior. the rest of the night he found himself going over all the things he could do with you that you’d never even know about. making a list in his mind of what he’d planned to do from there. he adored how brainless you were, sitting there with his cum all over you without even giving it a second thought.
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bangtanhoneys · 9 months
Text
GRACE TOUR Diary - March 17th 2025, Seoul
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It was two days before her tour officially started.
Grace wasn’t going to shy away from the fact that her stomach was in knots and she was getting very little sleep due to nerves. Her mind was in constant turmoil over things that may go wrong, something may happen, this thing might happen, this costume may not fit. Her team had planned for everything and anything including weather, backup costumes, backup shoes, and even a backup team.
Nothing could go wrong yet her brain was thinking otherwise.
Her days started early, around 6am, with a couple of meetings with her team (affectionately known as the Queen’s Guard), then it was vocal rehearsals then dance practice and depending on the day, a couple of hours in the gym to get her stamina up while singing.
She hadn’t performed on her own before, especially for a two hour concert. There was no opening act, no other acts on as support - it would just be her, the band and the dancers.
To keep the crowd entertained.
A crowd that probably had come to see her fail.
That was one of her worries - it wasn’t that ARMY wasn’t going to turn up, it was all the haters as well. And not only that, she had seen the list of celebrities who had secured their VIP tickets early. That made her nervous.
And all the dates had sold out fast to the point where extra dates had to be added and the two last dates in Seoul had sold out within minutes, including the VIP tickets for idols, celebrities, and politicians.
It would be her peers carefully watching - wondering if she could perform on her own, if she could handle the weight, if she could handle her own songs, choreography, high notes and costumes. She’d be fine once the first song was done because after that, who gave a shit.
But for now, it was the constant thoughts that were keeping her up all hours of the night.
Seokjin & Hobi were home from the military now and they had been constant support, checking in and being there for whatever meeting or practice was taking place while dealing with their own schedules and plans. The others had been checking in as well through phone calls and texts, keeping an eye on the progress.
Her eyes stared at the night sky from where her curtains were open and if she listened carefully, she could hear some of the population of Seoul still going even at three in the morning. She had gotten about four hours of sleep and she had to be up in an hour to get showered and ready to head over to HYBE for a final day of rehearsals.
The weight of her cat next to her pressed into her side and she reached over, running a hand down the soft white fur. At least one of them was getting his beauty sleep. Seeing as there was no point, Grace carefully got out of bed and padded over to the bathroom. There were bags starting to form under her eyes, so that meant the make up team were going to complain, but the hot shower helped relax her muscles. Her newly dyed hair had stayed it’s amazing shade of blonde and she kept forgetting about it until it caught her eye in the mirror. That had been Seokjin’s suggestion - new hair colour for a new era.
She had a small breakfast and filled up Min-Ji’s food and water bowls, taking her small cup of tea to the living room where she plonked herself on the couch. The news played in the background as she pulled her phone off charge, seeing if there were any updates from anyone but the messages remained silent.
“With two days to go, fans are already queuing for merchandise and to experience what HYBE has put on in terms of a festival around the Gocheok Sky Dome. BTS’ Grace Chu will start her first solo tour here before heading over to Los Angeles and the rest of the world. The In My Head Tour has already sold out across the globe and no tickets are available, anywhere. However, HYBE has offered live streaming of the last two Seoul dates for those who have missed out on what is expected to be the tour of the year,” the newscaster said on the TV, catching Grace’s attention.
The program showed the tents already lining up and some of the things HYBE had planned, including reruns of RUN BTS episodes, focus solely on Grace and even her BT21 character was around. Fans had the opportunity to take pictures with various cardboard cutouts of her and it warmed her to see how many ARMY bombs were already lit.
“We can’t wait,” one foreign ARMY said once the camera was on her. “I’ve been in Seoul for about three years now and the moment I heard she was planning a tour, I knew I had to buy tickets. She’s my bias and she really inspires me as a woman and as an artist. She’s different from other idols as well - she doesn’t let her career define her or her character and she doesn’t care if she goes against the standards this country sets her in. She’s really an icon of this age.”
Another ARMY appeared, this time a male fan who had one of her t-shirts on. “There are many comments online about how she contrasts against the likes of IU, Blackpink, and she can’t compare really. She’s humble, quiet, unassuming yet insanely talented. I’ve watched so many fancams and videos from fans of other artists and in every one of them she’s consistent. So I’m really looking forward to what she’s going to bring for her solo tour.”
The program returned to the newscaster who showed figures of what income this tour was going to bring to HYBE, Big Hit, the tourism economy and the government. And what the stakeholders' shares were climbing to. All in all, it was going to be a commercial success.
Whether it was going to get the ratings like Yoongi’s and Blackpinks tour, as they were the two being used in comparison the most, that would remain to be seen.
Grace swallowed the last of her tea and stood, stretching out her legs and back. “Well, let’s get this tour on the road then.”
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jackalopesao3 · 1 year
Note
What are your headcanons for how the brothers and undatables react to an MC who’s a worse cook than Solomon? (To the point that even Solomon gets food poisoning)
Well, if they survive a worse cook than Solomon…
Note: Some of these are long
CW: symptoms of gastrointestinal illness, maybe some swearing, general feeling unwell, a touch of chaos
Characters: All
Lucifer
He doesn’t physically punish MC but this is the one and only time they are strung from the ceiling. It’s not because he took one bite, gagged violently, spat it out into his napkin, and needed three bottles of the strongest flavored Devildom seltzer to knock the taste out of his mouth. It’s because MC’s cooking made his brothers cry and made them physically ill.
“MC, if your cooking was truly that abominable, why did you not just say so?”
Mammon
Mammon is one of the brothers that cried. He tried not to let MC see by putting his shades on at the dinner table. He was the only one of his brothers to go for another bite as he didn’t want to hurt their feelings. The boy somehow forced down a few bites before finding a reason to excuse himself so he could sneak away to vomit. He called off sick the next day. Lucifer surprisingly let him stay home.
“It’s *hrk* great, MC!”
Leviathan
Also cried. He also projectile vomited immediately, coating whoever had the misfortune of being in front of him. Unfortunately for everyone, that was Satan. No one had ever seen Leviathan move so fast. Before anyone could blink, you heard his bedroom door slam shut.
“MC, please don’t ever cook again! That was worse than the one time Ayane-chan made devil-buffalo autumn crunch rolls on How I Leveled Up My Pet Slime To The Max!”
Satan
Being well cultured on most things, he recognized what dish MC made and that it did not look or smell like said dish. He took a forkful up to his mouth and cautiously tasted it with the tip of his tongue before instantly dropping his fork and gulped down a glass of water. As he stood up, he felt something hot and wet collide with his chest. The room fell eerily silent as he looked down to see vomit and hear Levi’s door slamming shut. He closed his eyes, body trembling with rage as he counted to ten before walking to the bathroom to clean himself up.
“MC, you will repay me by helping me with laundry this week,” he says this with a smile but anyone who can hear can tell that’s a threat in his voice.
Meanwhile, Levi discovers a curse on one of his favorite RAD shirts that makes the buttons on it scream loudly in different octaves whenever he starts to think about Ruri-chan during class. He gets detention multiple times that day.
Asmo
“Awww! MC you’re so sweet cooking for us tonight! I can’t wait! It looks so yummy!” Asmo chirped as he sat down at the dinner table, totally unaware of the lovecraftian horror that awaited his tastebuds.
One bite and he was convinced this was the end. The poor demon was coughing, heaving, and wailing all at the same time. Between sobs and coughs, everyone heard shouts of, “Help! I think I’m dying!” alternatively, “I’m too pretty to die! Help me!” Asmo was so hysterical he ended up wearing himself out and passed out on the floor.
“MC, how could you! I almost diiiiiieeeed!”
Beel
Beel wasn’t at the dinner table, which wasn’t unusual at first because he’d get impatient and pre-game by munching on food in the refrigerator. The brothers used this time to get a plate of food before he realized it was dinner time and everything on the table.
What no one knew was that Beel had snuck an entire plate of MC’s dish from the abyss, before they had brought it out. He was so excited that he had to be the first one to try it. Hungry boy gobbled it all down, shoveling it all into his mouth at once.
MC is so lucky they never saw the absolute look of betrayal on his face - it would have killed them. He had never tasted anything so horrible before. He had already swallowed half of it and his body was covered in a thin glaze of sweat. The avatar of gluttony was torn between swallowing the rest of this truly terrifying concoction or spitting it out. He hardened his resolve to not let food go to waste and swallowed the remaining glob in his mouth. A sharp pain ripped through his abdomen and he quickly looked down to see if he was stabbed, his demon form coming out on pure instinct. No stab wound, just pain from whatever MC cooked. The room spun around him as he gripped the counter for support. He couldn’t even call for MC, Belphie, or Lucifer for help before he passed out.
“MC, if you’re hungry or need to cook let me do it or we can order out!”
Belphie
Belphie was nearly falling asleep at the table before you placed the food in front of him. He gave MC a sleepy smile before taking a bite. His half-lidded eyes snapped open in complete horror as he spat the food out and took a glass of water to rinse his mouth out right at the table, spitting the water back on the table, much to Lucifer’s dismay.
“Is this revenge for me killing you? Is that it? Is this poison?” He asked, tears welling in his eyes with guilt.
When he saw the genuine confused look on MC’s face and heard their apologies he realized the truth, that they were a nightmare of a cook.
“Wait…Beel’s normally here by now. Oh no!” Like Levi, MC had never seen Belphie run so fast in his life.
“Beel?! BEEL!!!!!” Belphie’s anguished cries come from the kitchen where everyone finds the unconscious demon.
As Beel slowly woke up, everyone relaxed.
“MC, Beel almost died! No more cooking unless it’s for Lucifer!”
Diavolo
“Oh! MC, you brought food to afternoon tea! How splendid!”
Before Dia can even take one bite Barbatos swept in like demon butler dressed in a shining apron set of armor.
In the future, Barbatos saw Diavolo taking one bite and choking it down with a fake smile. Despite both his and Dia’s best efforts, nobles saw it as an attempt to poison the future king and MC was facing a possible execution.
“Pardon the intrusion but it appears as if some fiend-flies landed on this dish as soon as it was uncovered. This is inexcusable. My apologies to you both,” Barbatos explained with a quick bow before he replaced the monstrosity with something much more edible.
“I’m I couldn’t try your cooking this time, MC. Maybe next time!”
*If Dia ever did have the chance to try MC’s cooking without Barb saving him he’d likely be in shock at first. He’d cough and swallow it. Then he’d ghost MC like he does Solomon anytime they say they’re cooking.
Barbatos
After saving the day, Barbatos pulled MC aside before they could leave. He smiled but it was a smile that was making the temperature drop around them.
“MC, a word, if you have a moment,” he didn’t wait to hear their response and with a firm hand on the small of their back he guided them into the kitchen.
“What in the three realms were you thinking serving this to the young master?” Barbatos gestured to the abomination MC made, that he brought back to the kitchen.
“What is in this….concoction of yours could kill a human and make a demon fall seriously ill. Were you intent on causing harm today?” MC could feel the temperature in the room dropping lower and lower as Barbatos spat the question at them.
They shrunk against the door and shivered from both the cold and fright, absolutely bewildered. Their lower lip wobbled and their legs gave out. Amidst the whimpers of apologies Barbatos could make out, “cook like this all the time” and “didn’t know it was bad”. This left Barbatos equally bewildered as he never thought someone could surpass Solomon in bad cooking.
It took him a moment to recover from shock before he grabbed a box of tissues and was kneeling beside MC while the temperature of the room returned to normal. An awkward silence hung in the air for a moment before MC weakly laughed.
“That bad, huh?”
“You managed to surpass Solomon in worst cook in all of the three realms. That is quite the feat, MC,” Barbatos gently placed a hand on their shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze, before helping them up.
“I apologize for scaring you. I honestly thought for a second this was…poison.”
“If you truly wish to learn and do better, I can teach you.”
Solomon
He didn’t notice how terrible it tasted. This man either doesn’t have taste buds or his tastes are just extremely weird. To him your food tasted normal, good even.
It wasn’t until after dinner, when he notices he’s been sweating more than usual, that he realizes something’s wrong. Chills followed the sweats. Confused, he stepped away from the potion he was about to brew, a wave of lightheadedness hit him and he caught himself on his desk.
“Maybe I should rest,” the sorcerer thought to himself as he settled down on his bed.
He immediately sat back up as the most unimaginable pain ripped through his digestive track. He sprinted to the bathroom, summoning a bucket along the way.
If any of you have ever seen the photo where the person is on the toilet having diarrhea and also puking into a bucket at the same time, that’s Solomon after eating MC’s cooking.
If it weren’t for Simeon having had the intuition to check on him, Solomon would have crashed on the bathroom floor that night. Lucky for him that Simeon helped clean him up and tucked him into bed after that. Both him and Luke kept watch on the poor guy throughout the night.
“Hey MC, ummm….last night wasn’t revenge for anything was it? …oh? Never mind! Why don’t I do the cooking next time? You want to order out instead? Okay!”
He couldn’t believe this wasn’t revenge for his own bad cooking. He chuckled. His cute apprentice was even more like him than he thought. This just makes him more fond MC.
Simeon
He took one bite, did his best not to cough, and discreetly spat it out in a napkin. He looked puzzled at the food and then at you before taking a sip of water. How could you be a worse cook than Solomon? Being used to feigning politeness and dealing with the abominations Solomon comes up with, Simeon maintained a great poker face. It was when Luke started violently coughing that Simeon saw an out.
“Oh no! Luke! You must be allergic to something!” He exclaimed as he came to Luke’s aid with a glass of water, whispering, “just go along with this and we can get out of here alive.”
The frightened child nodded and Simeon ran out of the room to grab an “allergy pill” aka a child’s multivitamin and has Luke take that.
“I’m so sorry MC. Luke has some rare allergies we are still figuring out, let me treat all three of us to dinner at Hell’s Kitchen instead!”
Luke
Immediately started coughing and wrenching violently. He cried. Simeon covered for him by blaming it on an allergy.
After Simeon took them out for dinner and disposed of the toxic creation he checked up on Luke who was still shaken from the earlier events.
“I-is MC actually a demon?” He asked, wide and glossy eyes peered up at his elder from under his sheets.
Simeon shook his head with a soft smile and handed him a plate of cookies with a glass of milk.
“Not at all, Luke. Remember how we keep Solomon out of the kitchen?”
Luke groaned in response. What was it with humans and cooking?
Thirteen
Considering she hates Solomon and a big reason for that is because of his cooking, she got pretty angry when MC gave her some food they made.
“What the?! How are you a worse cook than that idiot sorcerer?! I know there are good chefs in the human world! I oughtta get you good for that, you know!” She threatened after spitting the food out but then an idea struck.
“Actually I’ll forgive you! Let me take the rest of that off your hands and cook for me whenever I ask you but no questions, okay?” Her eyes twinkled and she shot MC a mischievous grin and MC couldn’t find themselves saying no.
Thirteen utilized MC’s cooking as a weapon. MC even joined in on the fun in some of Thirteen’s pranks. Diavolo even got a kick out of it until Lucifer made him put a stop to it.
“We had a good run! Didn’t we?” Thirteen grinned and put her arm around MC before she whispered, “we’ll just wait until this blows over. Maybe I’ll even let you name my next invention that I’m designing to shoot your food out like a cannonball! It’ll go straight towards their mouths so there’s no way some of that is not getting in!”
Mephisto
MC was helping him with something for the newspaper and was on snack duty that day. Mephistopheles normally just ordered food for himself since he’s a spoiled wine aunt but forgot his wallet. “Well, the human did bring snacks and if they’re eating it must be edible” he thought with a resigned sigh as he went to grab a sandwich.
Hesitantly, he took a bite and went completely rigid as the horrid flavor assaulted his tastebuds. His reaction is one swift, thorough cough into a napkin. Mephisto grabs his thermos and downs the rest of his coffee to get the rest of the taste out of his mouth. How is MC eating that and not dying?!
He tossed the remaining snacks in the garbage and snatched the one MC was eating right out of their hand. They just stared in confusion as Mephisto stormed back to the trash can and threw it in before he turned on his heel back towards them.
“Human! What in the three realms is wrong with you?!” He didn’t give MC a chance to answer before stomping out of the room.
MC was used to him being dramatic at that point so they weren’t bothered and continued working on the project.
About thirty minutes later a nice takeout meal along with a drink is placed on their desk.
Mephisto sat down with his own meal at the desk across from their’s, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“Well that took nearly an hour of my time going home to get my card to buy us edible food, the least you could do is say, ‘thank you’ you know,” he tutted.
“Thanks,” MC replied, stunned that he actually bought them something too.
“Oh don’t act so surprised, human. Whatever you were eating before was going to kill you and you’ve actually become quite the asset to the club. If you haven’t noticed, membership has been….lacking.
Besides, despite the fact that you’re human and have terrible taste in roommates, I find you tolerable. No making yourself sick or dying from your own abysmal cooking, alright? While you are here I will take care of food. I trust those awful brothers aren’t stupid enough to let you cook at home, right? Good.”
And that’s when MC realized they finally made Mephistopheles their friend. Talk about plot twist!
Raphael
This weirdo (I do mean that affectionately) actually likes Solomon’s cooking. Even if MC is somehow worse, I’m assuming he has tastebuds of steel.
Raphael finished his plate and asked for seconds, leaving everyone else horrified yet in awe at his indestructible digestive system. (Theology states that he has healing powers so maybe he’s just immune idk.)
“That was really good, MC! Feel free to cook for us anytime when you visit Purgatory Hall!”
He did not feel the glares of his hall mates on his back when he said that but he did get goosebumps.
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rafecameronsbadussy · 2 years
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Lawnmower Boy
Summary: You babysit for a kook family with a particularly bothersome lawnmower boy. Though your opinion on him changes on a particularly hot day.
Warnings: Mentions of fainting, dehydration, swearing, children?idk
My work is not to be plagiarized.
A/n: Um… hi!! It’s been literally 3 months since I’ve written school and my mental health has been kicking my butt lately but I got a lot of shit sorted out and now I’m feeling like myself. I missed you, here’s your gift. I don’t really know what to think of this but!?!! Bye-bye!!<3
—————
Shutting the door as quietly as possible, you tiptoe out of Penelope's room. After lots of coaxing, she and Jasper finally went down for their nap.
For God's sake. Of course, why would he start mowing the lawn at any other time!
You just roll your eyes and pray it doesn't wake them. Plopping on the cushy couch, you turn on Gilmore Girls, still shaking your head.
—————
"It's time for lunch Penelope," you say as she clings to you. Babysitting really isn't that bad, you've always found it odd how many people hate kids.
You walk out of Penelope's room and wake Jasper. He quickly scurries to the dining room. Jasper and Penelope's parents are full on kook. Their house really makes yours look like a crack shack.
You get them set up with their finger sandwiches when you notice the lawnmower boy sprawled on the ground. "Oh my god-" you say, hand going to your mouth. "Penelope and Jasper put down your food we've gotta go."
"But-" Jasper starts.
"Come with me." Forcing your tone to be even, you grab their hands and run out the door to his side.
Shit, what's this kid's name. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What is it? JJ.
"JJ," you say, kneeling in the grass to shake him lightly. He stirs a little. You keep your voice calm so the kids stay calm, taking them out with you wasn't the best option but leaving the three and five-year-old to eat unsupervised wasn't either. "Wake up, hon," you say and his eyes crack open slightly. 
"Is he okay?" Penelope asks, you turn to see her picking at her lips anxiously.
"He's alright Penny, just tired," you reassure her.
"Are you okay?". He looks like he hasn’t slept for days, and lord knows the last time he’s drunk any water. All in all, not a good mix with the Carolina sun.
You almost miss the dark bruises on his arms. Almost.
His eyes open fully and he props himself up on his elbows. "Yeah...just dozing off," he says lazily.
"Here, go get JJ a bottle of water please." you look to Jasper, the oldest of the two, and he scurries off. Your first aid training comes in handy right about now.
"What day is it?" you ask peering down at him.
"Friday?" he replies
"Where do you live?"
"Woah, at least take me out to dinner first," he says with a smirk, looking up at you with his sparking blue eyes.
"Definitely not concussed." You smile, his little comment makes you feel warm. Jasper comes back with the water and gives it to JJ. "What happened?" you ask.
"Eh, I was probably just dehydrated." he says.
"Yeah, you've gotta be careful. Once the clock hits twelve baby you won't know what hit ya." you reply. You know he's actually not that aggravating. Your smile grows, "Here, come sit in the shade with us for a little bit." You give him a hand in standing up. Taking it, he gives you a tight lipped smile. You lead him and the kids to the patio.
On your walk over, Jasper asks. "Did you fall on your head? Y/n always tells us to not fall on our head." Looking up to JJ with eyes bulging from curiosity.
"I don't think so." JJ says, taking a seat.
"Did you break anything?" He questioned, making you smile as you sat down across from JJ at the table.
"Not that I can tell,"
"Are you trying to steal my job, Jasper?" You kid, Jasper sitting next to you and Penny crawling on your lap.
"No," he replies, confused.
"Mkay, I'm watching you." You point two fingers to your eyes then turn them to him. He erupts in contagious giggles.
"Hey why don't you two go get your sandwiches you can eat out here today." You look between the two kids.
"Okay," Jasper says, springing up and scampering into the house. "Hey help your sister alright?" You yell after them. Throughout this encounter you had failed to notice JJ's content smile.
You snap your head to him making him register his smile and wipe it away quickly.
You caught a glance at his bruises again, trying to figure out the cause. "Hey are you sure you're alright?" Maybe that rumor you heard about his dad was true.
"Oh Y/n/n don't you worry about me." The nickname sent warmth through your chest. He swatted his hand in the air, brushing it off, but his sapphire eyes told a different story.
It's a small island after all, you knew just how often he faced trouble. Maybe he got in with some bad folks.
"I know I'm definitely not your first choice but always here if you want to talk and.. I'm cpr certified so if you're dying come tell me." You smile at the last part, raising your eyebrows.
He chuckles, "Well I'll definitely let you know if I'm dying. Thanks," He smiles lowering his head back down to look at his shoes.
"No problem," you turn your head at the sound of the door opening. Jasper watched Penelope intently. "You made it, good job." You say as the kids make their way to the table.
"JJ, can you still see?" Jasper questions.
"Jasper remember what we said about interrogating?" You say raising your eyebrows at him, a smile on your face.
"Oh yeah. Sorry." He apologizes to JJ.
—————
On your way out from the Brown household, JJ jogged up next to you.
"Hey," He now stood next to you.
"Oh, hey. You feelin' better?" You sent him a small smile, turning to him.
"Feeling great, had the best nurse." He gave you that JJ Maybank smile.
"Aw, you're sweet." Your cheeks burned red, your embarrassment at it made them all the more rosy.
You must have made up the blood that rushed to his own, "Listen, I have an offer for you."
"Okay," you smile, curious.
"You should come by the boneyard tonight. We're throwing a kegger."
"What kind of offer is that." Your voice laced with sarcasm.
"One you can't refuse." You chuckle to this.
Smiling you say, "No an offer is supposed to be something special. I know for a fact you guys throw a kegger almost every week."
"Well, we don't usually personally invite people." He raised his brows, that damn smile.
"Yeah, sure." You smirk, turning to your car.
"That's not a no." He smiles down to you.
"I'll be there." You give, climbing into your car.
"Can't wait. You won't be disappointed, princess."
"I better not be." You smile.
"See ya then,"
"See ya," With that he closes your car door and you smile like an idiot. As you pull out of the driveway JJ waved to you before skipping back to his work, that he was most certainly not behind on.
(Okay the first aid questions are definitely not what you do when you think someone has a concussion but we gotta sacrifice realism for the plot yk)
Also, pt. 2?
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mairablue · 4 months
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SCM - Department Of Punishment
Scorpio ♏ - Home Where The Heart Belongs
For fluffbruary event ( @fluffbruary )
A/N: This has turned a bit more bittersweet than fluffy. Still i hope you enjoy reading this! 🥺💞
Prompts: potatoes | blue | glass
7th February, 2024
~~~
Cool breeze flowed inside the kitchen from the window. The sky turning a bright shade of orange as the Sun was gradually setting.
The finely chopped onions, and potatoes cut in half made sizzling sounds, coming in contact with the hot oil on the saucepan.
-
"Thank you." Scorpio said as he paid the shopkeeper. Putting the box in his bag, he walked to the railway station.
-
You were busy setting the table; as your eyes wandering to the wall clock over and over again.
The restlessness in your heart increasing with each passing minute. For 3 months you have waited patiently. But now this pain feels unbearable.
Suddenly the ringing sound of the doorbell was heard. Finally, he is here.
You opened the door as rapidly as you could and hugged him tightly. Almost making him stumble.
Scorpio chuckled and picked you in his arms; tenderly kissing you.
"I missed you." you said, the overwhelming feeling of separation coating your voice. Scorpio held you against his chest,"I missed you too, love." He was better at hiding his emotions. You two stayed in each other's embrace for a few minutes, before slowly letting go.
"Something smells delicious." he commented as he walked in the living room. "It's a surprise, sir." you said jokingly. "Alright then." he replied cheerfully.
-
Scorpio walked into the dining room. His hair was still slightly wet. Few drops of water dripped down from them and soaked into his white shirt, whose two buttons from the top were kept open.
He sat down on a chair. You sat next to him.
Taking a spoonful of Biriany, he brought the spoon to his lips. Closing his eyes he softly chewed. The corner of his lips curled up,"I haven't had a home cooked meal in months", pausing to take another spoonful of Biriany in his mouth. " Thank you for cooking, love." You had known about his love for Biriany for a long time.
"I hope this is to your liking as well." saying that you filled a glass with Pomegranate juice from the pitcher.
His eyes lit up seeing the reddish liquid in the glass. Pomegranate was one of his favorite fruits, after all. And to get fresh Pomegranate juice, after three whole months of almost fasting and surviving off junk food, he indeed considered himself to be fortunate.
"I can't thank you enough." he said as he chugged down the glass of juice.
Once you two had finished eating, he helped you with washing the dishes. Deciding to continue your conversation in a much relaxed space, you lead him to your bedroom.
He wrapped his arm around you as you leaned your head against his shoulder. "How are you? How is work going on?" he asked.
"I am fine...," you sighed, "as fine as i can be without you. As for work, some students are dropping out."
"How long will you stay here?" you asked. The concern about his well-being too evident in your voice.
He remained silent for a few seconds,"Probably a week." Neither of you knew how to continue the conversation from there. He couldn't promise you anything. He knew that deep in his heart. And the one thing that you prayed for; every passing moment of the day, was his safety. That was all you wanted.
As a war correspondent, he never knew when or if he will ever see you again. Or the letter he sends to you, at the end of each month, is going to be the last one you ever receive from him. These thoughts clouded his mind, until he noticed his bag kept on the study table.
He opened the bag and took out a gift wrapped box and handed it to you. "Open it." he said.
A gorgeous silk dress, blue in colour, awaited for you. The fabric cool against your hand as you held it. " This is expensive!" you exclaimed. Your voice filled with slight panic as you knew, without a doubt, that a dress like this would cost a fortune.
"Why? How?" were the only two words that came out of your mouth.
Scorpio placed his hands on your shoulders, "Today is our 4th anniversary. I wanted to propose to you, but considering the current circumstances, i can't promise you a future... yet."
"I love you. I can't imagine a life without you. I don't know what tomorrow holds for us but for today let us be happy. " he said, holding your hands in his, trying his best to hold back the tears that threatened to overflow.
"I love you too." you said and kissed him.
The tiredness slowly desended as your eyelids started to feel heavy. He too felt the need to rest after the tiresome journey of the day.
Lying next to you, he started stroking your hair. No matter what happens tomorrow, you two will always have each other's company, with this promise you drifted off to sleep. Soon enough he fell asleep as well.
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intheclearblueskies · 5 months
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You Make Them Blush
| Masterlist |
Tanjiro:
It was a sunny summer day, and the squad decided to go down to the river to cool off. Inosuke let out a shout as he cannon-balled into the water, splashing Zenitsu (who was sitting on the shore). He let out a screech, making you burst out laughing.
You were standing in the shade with Nezuko's box beside you. As much as she sulked that she had to stay inside, she felt a little better when you said you'd keep her company.
"Whoa, Tanjiro!" You called with a grin, seeing the boy walking out in plain green swimwear. "Did you get a sunburn, or are you always this hot?"
The boy's cheeks flushed a bright red at your saucy shout, and he bowed his head, his earrings brushing against his cheeks. "U-- uh! (y/n)-san, wh- what a compliment..."
Nezuko:
After a long, hard day of walking (and a hard evening of fighting), you were fawning over a sleepy Nezuko, whose head was lying in your lap.
You cooed as you patted her hair and stroked her face, "Uwaaaa, Nezuko, you were so cute today! Such a good girl, you did a great job!"
Nezuko's face heated up and she smiled up at you cutely, making you squeal some more. You leaned down to squish your face against hers, cooing at her even more.
Tanjiro laughed as you kept rubbing your cheek against hers, patting your heads with his hands.
Zenitsu:
You were unusually giggly today, and you took most of that energy out on Inosuke. Tanjiro and Zenitsu watched as you played around, laughing at his attempts of tagging you. It took most of an afternoon to get out your extra energy, and when you finally sat down to dinner that night, you sagged against Zenitsu, sighing in content at the delicious food.
"Zenitsuuuuu," you mumbled with a sleepy smile. "You're so warm... can I make you my pillow?"
Zenitsu choked on his tea, face going bright red at your innocent question. He coughed for a few moments, but when he could speak again, he stammered, "W-- whatever you want, (y/n)-chan!"
Inosuke:
You and Inosuke were sparring, as usual, when you suddenly pounced at him and pinned him to the ground, your knees on either side of his stomach and your sword at his neck.
"Looks like I win this time," you smiled sweetly at him as you sat down on him.
Inosuke's face burned hot with irritation under the mask, and he growled, "I demand a rematch!"
Giyuu:
Giyuu wasn't too used to being in the company of women who couldn't instantly snap him in half like a walking stick, and he also didn't know how to react when you asked him to walk with you in your family's garden. He said yes, of course, because he didn't mind your company, but inside he was a nervous mess as you guided him among the flowers.
Your gentle hand on his arm made him pause, and you smiled up at him, your eyes shining.
"I'm really glad you're here, Tomioka-san," you murmured.
He looked away to conceal his blush, not trusting himself to speak. He nodded, making you giggle.
Kyojuro:
You were at Kyojuro's residence, cooking with his little brother. You had your hair tied back and wore a cute (f/c) apron. You adored his little brother, and put him to work right away helping you chop up the vegetables.
Kyojuro walked in, fresh from the shower in a robe. He stood in the doorway, watching you both work together, your chatter filling the air.
His cheeks flushed when you noticed him, turning and smiling cutely. "The dish is just about ready, Rengoku-san. Think you can wait a few more minutes?"
"I can wait as long as you need to, (l/n)-san!" He replied brightly, patting Senjuro's head before leaving the room.
Muichiro:
During one of your summer afternoons chilling with Muichiro and Tanjiro, you brought out popsicles for all three of you.
Tanjiro accepted his immediately, thanking you before chowing down on the sweet ice.
You offered Muichiro one with a smile, "Here, since it's so hot today."
Muichiro returned the expression, his cheeks going pink. "Thank you, (y/n)-san."
Shinobu:
You decided to go to a festival together, so you planned to pick her up in the early afternoon to go to the next village over.
Shinobu was putting in a butterfly hairpiece when Aoi rushed in, informing her of your arrival. She thanked the girl and hurried out to the foyer, where you were talking to Kanao.
Her cheeks flushed when she observed your pretty figure in a kimono of your favorite color, your hair held back with a pretty pin. You looked up at her with a grin, "Ready?"
"Of course," her smile was back in place as the two of you left the manor.
Gyomei:
You were walking with him to the next village to assist him with a report of a Lower Moon terrorizing the area.
You looked very well-kept in the carefully-sewn haori over your slayer uniform, your katana at your side.
You looked up at him with a nervous grin. "This is exciting, isn't it? I've never... gone up against a Moon before."
He looked over, his blank eyes going teary as he smiled in your direction. "It's a challenge you never forget, (l/n)-san. Let's say extra prayers before we begin the mission tonight."
Your hand went to rest on his arm, and his face went pink at the contact before he gently grasped your tiny hand in his, squeezing it for a moment before letting go.
Sanemi:
You kicked in the door, bellowing, "OI! Shinazugawa! Get'cho ass outta bed!"
The man startled at the intrusion, glaring at you. "What the hell are you doing in my room, (l/n)?! Get out!"
"We're training today, and I don't wanna waste any more time!" You replied, grabbing the blanket and throwing it off. "Now c'mon, it's already ten!"
Sanemi's face bloomed in red as you took in his untidy sleeping robe and his scarred, muscled chest, nodding to yourself before turning and walking out of the room.
"O-- Oi!" He shouted after you. "You can't just-- you aren't-- gah, dammit!"
Akaza:
You were more exhausted than usual this night, and as you sat with Akaza on the roof of some building, you were leaning against his side, eyelids heavy.
"You're kind of cold," you teased with a small giggle. "But you make a good pillow - thank you for lending your arm."
Akaza's face went a dusky pink that rivaled his hair, and he gave you a tiny smile.
Douma:
It was a while later, and you'd finally become accepted as a pillar. After you were sworn in, you joyfully went to Douma and, after waiting until he was alone in the chamber, you ran in and embraced him, laughing giddily.
"Douma, I did it! I did it!" You cheered, your face lighting up. "I was accepted!"
Douma's face was frozen in surprise for a few seconds, not expecting your tackle, but at your voice he felt a new smile spread across his face.
"Oh, I wish Iroha-sama was here to see this," you breathed, giving him a soft look. "Thank you for believing in me when I had no one else, Douma. It's because of your continued support that I'm here."
His cheeks pinkened at your endearing eyes. He gently rose a hand to the back of your head, pulling you close so that you could hug him again.
Kokushibo:
It's nearly impossible to make him blush, but one night you were in a giddy mood and you smiled at him. You'd gotten a present from one of your cousins, a box of a favorite childhood food, and it made you so happy that you couldn't help but beam at everyone you locked eyes with.
At your smile, he remembered something hazy, like a young boy smiling at him with those same eyes. Immediately, he averted his eyes and his face pinkened in embarrassment.
Muzan:
Muzan was smooth as butter on a hot summer day. Charming and handsome, and very hard to catch off-kilter. Unless he was distracted, of course. Tonight was one of those nights.
"Hey, Muzan?" you asked, bouncing over to the man.
"Hm?" He looked over at you, pausing when your noses touched. He blinked, but he didn't pull back.
"Can you help me with something?" You turned and pointed up on a shelf. "I can't reach."
He nodded, setting aside the paper he was reading to help you. He reached the box with ease, handing it to you.
You hugged him tight, chirping, "Thanks!"
You skipped away, leaving him with the faintest of blushes on his face. You were very open with your affections, it seemed.
Yoriichi:
You were playing with baby Sumire, tossing her lightly in the air and laughing with her. Yoriichi was watching from the porch with Sumiyoshi, a bright grin on the latter's face.
"She really seems to have taken to (y/n)," Sumiyoshi observed, sipping his drink. "I'm glad."
Yoriichi nodded slowly.
You turned to glance at the men with a bright smile, Sumire still giggling and reaching for your hair.
The light shone down on the both of you in such a way that it illuminated your faces further, and the man felt his face heating, his eyes softening at you both.
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tunabesimpin · 1 year
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I feel for the Sea-side party Carol would mostly enjoy swimming in general, even if she enjoys the greens of the forest, Summer is annoying cause of the heat to her so might as well enjoy the water to calm or get some ice cream and a cold drink. She probably brings a lot of things to grill and eat as well as a sun umbrella to make sure she doesn't get sunburnt. Probably also Sunscreen to lend to others if they overdo it. After all she is that mom friend, when she isn't swimming she will be busy running around and making sure other people feel good and don't hurt themselves.
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--- Being ever responsible, Carol was sure to bring all the essentials to the party. Sunscreen, proper shade, refreshments and food; everything was prepared for the long hot day to come.
Tuna was quick to try and drag Carol into the water, but there were more pressing matters to do first. Carol sighed "Tuna you can't just jump in after putting on sunscreen, you have to let it sit for a bit or it'll just wash right off!" Tuna pouted, but sat down impatiently in the shade while Carol continued to set up the rest of her things. Barely 5 minutes of waiting and Tuna was bouncing off into the waves. "It'll be fine!!! I put on lots earlier anyways!" Tuna exclaimed as they dived into the water. After a bit longer, Carol finally followed off into the ocean, ready to cool down.
Splashing around and racing about the water really makes you lose track of the time. It had already been over an hour since the two began swimming. That was plenty of time to already start to burn the silly catfish. Carol tsked, seeing Tuna already begining to turn red "It's best we reapply some sunscreen, you're turning into a crab." Tuna peered down at their arms flabbergasted "Wha?! Already???"
Carol was already heading to the shoreline, Tuna following close after trusting Carol to help them out. She let out a kind chuckle, luring Tuna further by saying "When we get back to my spot, we can have some ice cream to cool down while we wait this time." Practically drooling, Tuna was content to be patient this time. ---
<3 <3 THANK U FOR JOINING THE EVENT!!! I HAD SO MUCH FUN DRAWIN CAROL <3 HER SWIMSUIT IS SO PRETTY AND SHE IS JUST SO PRETTY!!! SLAY!!!! lolol I hope u enjoy!!!
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rorykeanersactualgf · 15 days
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request where Benny Weir takes care of and looks after the reader from fainting due to heat exhaustion/dehydration
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A/N: im sorry that this is so short and took a while to do but ive been a bit busy and feeling a bit over faced from having over 30 requests but im getting through them, hope you like it and if theres anything wrong with it, please tell me so I can fix it, other than that i hope you enjoy xxx :))
CW: Benny being a cutie as always, talk of nausea and wanting to throw up but doesn't happen, changing in the same room as Benny but nothing sexual happens, depictions of lack of water and eating (REMEMBER TO EAT MY LOVES, I DONT WANT YOU TO END UP ILL XXX), reader has siblings but make some up if you dont xxxx
Sunny Days
It was the peak of summer in Canada and my family decided to take advantage of this and go to the beach. We woke up early in the morning and started to get everything ready to go to the beach. I was tasked with the responsibility of making sure the bags were packed with everything that we would be needing when were there, while the rest of my family was doing their tasks. In the haze of doing everything, I had neglected to remember to put on sun cream.
When we had finished the long road trip to the beach, we went for a long walk along the pier and went on a few rides before we sat down on the beach to do various things. I felt a bit hungry and thirsty so I got up and went to a nearby food stand and got a bottle of cold water and a few snacks. On the walk back, my skin felt warmer than it should and I noticed it was because of me forgetting to put on sun cream again.
When I did sit down again, I placed my various things down and sat in the shade to eat my food and have some of my water when my parents wanted us to stand up and have a family picture. I left my things there, still forgetting to put sun cream on.
After the picture, I saw the waves come up to my feet and that's when my sibling decided it would be funny if they pushed me in. As soon as the cool water met my hot skin, I sighed in relief but also got up to chase them into the water and get my well deserved payback.
When I finally caught up to them, I shoved them over into the water and laughed. We decided to play a few games in the water and swim for a while before we both got tired and a little bit cold and we came out, splashing cold water at one another to annoy each other.
When I went back to where I was sat originally, I felt too tired to eat or drink any of the things I had bought earlier so I laid down on my sun bed and started to tan. This is when I remembered to put on some sun cream and when I did, I felt the instant cooling relief. Feeling satisfied, I laid there and accidently fell asleep.
While I was asleep, my family was enjoying themselves and building sand castles while I had been unknowingly baking myself and my brain in the sun. I had basically been running my body off of hopes and dreams since I had been so busy this morning with making sure I had everything in the bags that I forgot to eat or drink anything.
After about an hour or two of being asleep in the sun, I woke up with the most head-splitting headache, nausea over my whole body, and hot to the touch skin that felt almost red and raw. I went to stand up but couldn't as as soon as I did, my vision went dark and I almost passed out.
Seeing this, my parents kept me in the shade, trying to cool me down and giving me water and ice cream, dreading the drive back home. When I was starting to feel fine again, I went back into the water with my sibling/s and started to swim a bit, staying in the shallow end so if something was to happen, I was able to be saved quicker or get up and out quicker.
When we all agreed that we had had enough and wanted to go back home to our rooms and/or our friends houses, we all clambered into the car, feeling sand stick to our bodies the entire ride back, giving ourselves free exfoliating treatments on accident. The ride back had a few stops because of me feeling a bit travel sick but nothing came up thankfully.
When we were back at the house, I instantly ran for the shower and dived in to feel the cool water drip down me and to check if I was sun burnt, somehow I wasn't. When I got back to my room, I didn't feel well enough to get fully dressed for bed, but I did pull a hoodie over me when I felt my phone buzzing next to me.
I had completely forgotten about telling Benny I was at the beach with my family today. I answered the facetime to a very worried Benny, but the worry was quelled quickly when I explained that I was at the beach with my family, proving it by showing him the tan I was able to accrue from the time being there.
Benny quickly understood and apologised, but I shut it down quickly saying that it was my fault because I didn't tell him, he couldn't have known. After talking for a while, I got tired and started felling my eyes get heavy, to which Benny let me fall asleep on call and looked at me with complete adoration while I slept for a bit and then hung up, saying goodnight and not expecting an answer.
The next morning, I woke up and went downstairs to get something to drink, when I started feeling very dizzy and as I got back upstairs to my room to grab my phone, my legs almost gave out on me. I sat down on my bed with shaky legs and a tremble running throughout my entire body. I laid down and called Benny to ask if he could come over and within a second of me asking, he agreed.
About 10-15 minutes later, a red faced and out of breath Benny was outside my bedroom door, knocking to ask if he can come in. I said that he could come in. When he came in, I sat up properly and tried to pull myself together so I looked at least a bit more normal and presentable than I felt.
The more we hung out, I started to feel a bit better, that was until I had gotten up to go to the bathroom and I passed out. Benny saw me sway a bit and knew something was up and when I had fallen, he had just caught me so I didn't hit my head on the floor or my bedframe. He panicked.
After about a minute or two, I woke up to my legs up on the bed while being laid on the floor, a cool rag on my head, a panicked Benny almost on the verge of tears it seemed, and my mom stood above me, looking a lot less concerned than Benny was.
"Oh my god, are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need anything? Are you still awake?" Benny asked, questions rolling off of his tongue faster than I could process or comprehend to answer.
"I'm alright, what happened? Why am I on the floor?" I asked with a calm tone in my voice, more confused than anything.
After I had thought about it for a bit longer, I concluded that the reason I had passed out was because I had forgotten to eat or drink anything yesterday, which didn't help the fact that I had fallen asleep in the sun as well. Hearing this, Benny looked at me with a concerned but also a relieved face because at least it wasn't a serious medical condition but I should have had more than a sip or two of water.
He sprinted downstairs and got a bottle of water, some Tylenol, and something to eat and he ran back up to my room, probably using some of his powers to get upstairs quicker. He basically babied me for the rest of the day and fed me until I felt okay, until it was time for me to get ready for be, which he helped me stand up and 'get changed', looking away but still in the room in case I passed out again.
He then picked me up and carried me over to my bed so I was off my legs and helped me get tucked into bed, and just as he was about to leave, I tugged on the back of his shirt and asked him to stay the night, I knew my parents would say yes because they love him, especially from earlier when he had take care of me so quickly and without a second thought. We both made sure it was okay with my parents and his grandma and when we both got the go ahead for him to sleep over, we climbed into my bed, picked up my laptop and I picked a movie I knew he would enjoy because after the stress I have given him today, he needed a break. We fell asleep in each others arms, content and ready for a new day.
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thethistlegirlwrites · 8 months
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At long last part 5 of 5 is here! (and is much cuter than the previous installments...and set several weeks later)
“Stop.” Shay puts an arm across the doorway. “They took your stitches out. That is not permission to go crawling around the wreckage of a car that will probably make you need more of them.” 
“I’ve got to put her back together too.” Sierra says.
“You will. Just wait a few more weeks.” Shay sighs. “She’s not going anywhere and neither are you.”
“Don’t remind me.”
She’s lucky it’s a six month unpaid suspension. Maira pulled the ‘extenuating circumstances’ card, insisting Sierra had killed Shay’s sire in a purely justifiable effort to prevent her from taking control of him again. Outside standard operating procedure on a distressing amount of levels, but something that, shockingly, the National Huntmaster’s Office was prepared to accept. 
And it probably looks bad on the books to be the hunter agency that fired a Stoker. 
“You’re just headed for the car to get out of the mandatory remedial policy course, aren’t you?”
Sierra grimaces. “Whoever picked the video narrator for that needs to be the one on suspension. He’s just droning on and on.” 
“You could watch it with the speed turned up.” Shay gently steers her back toward the couch. “It’s a formality anyway. Maira knows you know the rules, you just chose not to follow them.”
“It’s a formality with pop quizzes. I hate those.” 
They’ve fallen back into the usual pattern of playful banter. It’s nice to know that what that vamp (he still doesn’t know her name, they may never know it, her DNA didn’t match to anything in any records and they’re still working on dental, but given that they’ve had to try and contact Russian authorities for that, he isn’t sure how well that will go) did to their relationship wasn’t a permanent rift, but they haven’t talked about what happened that day since Sierra woke up in the infirmary.
He’s not about to bring it up. He wasn’t lying when he said what they have right now is just fine with him. If Sierra wants to talk about whatever it was she said when she thought she might be dying, that’s her choice.
She settles gingerly into the couch and picks up the laptop. “Alright, I guess I’ll finish this section. And then email Grandpa Stephen and tell him he needs to add about eight new apps to the ‘responding to vampires captured on social media’ subheading.” 
Shay nods. “I’ll start dinner. I don’t think I can ruin prepackaged ramen.” They’re on a shoestring budget right now with Sierra’s suspension. Shay can handle the rent and utilities with what Emma pays her staff, but food has always been Sierra’s responsibility and she refused to let him pay for something he doesn’t need.
“You let the water boil off spaghetti once. You set off the smoke alarm.”
“It’s not my fault I haven’t needed to eat in years.”
“Just keep your eye on it.” She picks up her headphones. “After this, do you want to look at paint colors? If I’m going to rebuild half the front end I think it might be time for Dad’s Camaro to get a new look.”
“I’m game.” He glances at the printout on the coffee table. “Looks like you got started already.”
“I got really bored in the section on appropriate footwear, and Pete is still trying to convince me to use Excel tables for everything in my life.” There’s a list of paint colors, codes, and interior combinations for the ‘67 model year, with photos of cars with each of the described color combinations next to them.
“I was thinking of going with the Nantucket Blue. It would still look good with the interior and be light enough to not get too hot if we road trip it to Texas again.”
“How about this one?” Shay asks, pointing to a light tan. “Sierra Fawn. It literally has your name in it. That feels like it’s meant to be.”
“If I want a car that looks like the military owned it first, sure.” Sierra says. “It shades olive, see?”
“That might be a good color in the desert. Make it less visible.”
“We don’t work in the desert often enough.” Sierra says, then looks up and sniffs. “Go stir those noodles.”
“I see what you’re doing. I’m not done trying to convince you.”
“I’m not painting my car olive drab, Shane Barrett.”
@catwingsathena @nade2308 @whumptober
You can read the whole five-part series in one place here on my WorldAnvil, as well as more stories from this 'verse!
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