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doobean · 4 months

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AND BACK AGAIN ━ BAROU SHOEI + NAGI SEISHIRO

synopsis: Nagi doesn't know which one he should be more afraid of: your pink silicone strap on, or your boyfriend's giant cock.

contents: afab!fem!reader, dom!reader, sub!nagi, established relationship (barou + reader), m/m/f, oral (male + female receiving), handjobs, face sitting, barounagi elements, pegging, anal (male receiving), dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampies wc: 3.2k a/n: starting off the new year strong with this fic LMAO a shameless part two of THIS that nobody asked for. Beta’d by @pipppinn

It starts with an awful joke. A gag gift from you on his birthday.

In the box, which you had neatly wrapped in cacti themed paper, stands a big, pink dildo with a flared base and belt. You flash a wink at him while Barou only grumbles under his breath in the seat next to you, shoving the last slice of cake in his mouth. Nagi’s honestly surprised that he’s still hanging around you two, surprised that his old college roommate hasn’t killed him yet in his sleep for all the sexual and non-sexual acts he’s committed within the past two months.

It’s almost unspoken at this point, Nagi notices. No one has brought up the status of the relationship, but Nagi thinks whatever this is, it doesn’t necessarily need an explanation. More often than not, Nagi spends his weekends over, body pressed against whomever he didn’t piss off that day, and participating in acts that his best friend might lose his shit over.

“You’re in an open relationship?!” Reo gawked at him during brunch one day.

Nagi hadn’t seen him since his business trip in Hong Kong earlier in the year. The last time Nagi remembered telling Reo before he boarded the plane was probably something unrelated to his growing crush on you and Barou. And, during this friendly catch up meal, Reo almost gagged on his steak when he did tell him about his feelings and what you guys have done.

“Not open,” Nagi corrected, because he’s pretty sure that you and Barou aren’t sexually seeing anyone else other than him and, if you guys were, well he’d feel pretty upset over it. “Polyamorous is what people call it.”

Needless to say, Reo needed a moment to rewire his brain to understand just how Nagi, self proclaimed loser and bum, got himself between the power couple on the block. Nagi’s also waiting for that answer, too. Though, he might just get to understand a little bit better tonight.

Nagi knows it’s only half a joke and half a misguided attempt to help improve the bedroom sex life, which was already phenomenal in his opinion, when you tell him, “I think you would look cute with this.”

To which, he responds, “Mine is bigger.”

That makes Barou scoff, “She clearly meant with it inside of you, dumbass.” And Nagi thinks the name is slightly endearing, coming from a man like Barou.

But now the thought of this, the fleshy, realistic looking penis, inside of his ass? Nagi laughs, and he’s not really sure what to make of it. You’re giggling, hiding your face in your hands. At this sight, Nagi can’t stop the curious little voice in the back of his head that wonders what using it would be like.

The strap-on ends up sitting on your vanity as the three of you attempt to wrap up his mini birthday celebration. Barou’s gift turns out to be more thoughtful than Nagi originally would’ve thought. He had given him a grow lamp and a light meter for Choki. Barou then starts explaining the process and science behind it, but Nagi zones out the moment he throws in the words ‘photosynthesis’ and ‘self-care’ because Nagi was sure Barou was scolding him afterwards.

The sex toy appears by his face again when the three of you are laying in bed, limbs entangled with one another. You’re holding it in your hands, suspending towards the ceiling light to read the fine print on the side of the fake penis.

“Perfectly sized for beginners. The pink curved tip is made for working her g-spot or his p-spot,” you’re the only one laughing at the comment while Nagi and Barou exchange a look. “It’ll be fun, don’t you think, Sei?”

It would be a complete joke to Nagi if he were to lie about his curiosity. Since he’s first seen it, he can’t stop thinking about it. He takes the toy in his hands when you toss it to him. Nagi weighs it in his hands, then runs his fingers over the ridges and fake veins. It’s firm, yet still soft, and his own dick is now currently twitching at the mere idea of it up his ass.

His role in your relationship was to always dominate both you and Barou, as surprising as others would assume. He’s stuck his dick in Barou more times than he has with your mouth and between your breasts, which also kinda says a lot — but he’s not ready for that emotional conversation with a certain grumpy lion just yet.

“Shoei, how does it feel when I stick it in?” Nagi successfully dodges a pillow that’s thrown his way because Barou still isn’t used to him calling him by his first name. What a tsun, he thinks.

“Why the fuck are you asking me that now?”

“Because you always complain about how full—”

“I do not complain about—”

“Boys,” you pinch both of their cheeks in unison, applying the pressure and strength of an entire wrestling team in your fingers. “Calm down for just a second. Shoei, it’s his birthday, he’s just curious.”

Bingo.

Although his cheek hurts like hell, Nagi loves it whenever you end up siding with him. It always sets something dangerous and delirious off in the other male and Nagi loves getting the back handed treatment from it later on.

“Well,” Barou sighs and flushes, quite badly, while trying to say the rest as casually as he can. “It’s tight, no shit. Feels like sometimes my ass might tear from how rough you’re going… but it’s a good feeling once you get used to the size.” Barou coughs out the last bit into a fist.

Nagi shifts his face towards your chest and nuzzles against it, humming in content. “Hm, is that so? Doesn’t sound too bad, I guess.”

You giggle again and press a small kiss to his forehead, it makes Nagi melt a little bit. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, actually.” you tell him, voice low and smoldering. “Plus, we’re all squeaky clean from the shower and have nothing to do for the rest of the night…” you trail off and glance at Barou, waiting for his reaction.

His response comes in the form of sitting up and grabbing Nagi by the thighs, positioning him face down against the pillows. Nagi feels his face burning up, feeling mildly exposed in this position despite being fully clothed, and he hears your weight shift around on the mattress, the sounds of metal clicking together, and then more giggling.

Nagi doesn’t dare to move when Barou reaches over and pulls his sweats down to his thighs, and he doesn’t say anything when the other male begins tugging at his length by his side. Nagi bites back an embarrassingly loud moan as the cool surface of the dildo trails down his ass combined with Barou’s erotic handjob. He’s more turned on than ever in his entire life. His dick is painfully rock hard from just a few touches and a piece of plastic, soon he’s forming a damp spot on the mattress sheets as your hands start to knead his ass.

You press a trail of kisses down his back as your lubed fingers circle around his entrance. Nagi lets out a shudder when a finger slips in. It feels strange, this sensation, the pressure of something penetrating him. You take your time prepping him, cooing and sending reassurance to him but Nagi can’t seem to focus on anything right now. He starts to buck his hips against Barou’s hands, slowly getting addicted to the feeling of his ass getting probed. You soon add another finger, curling, and thrusting them in and out, while pressing wet kisses on his ass.

“You’re doing so well, Seishiro,” you praise, voice breathless. Hearing his full name while getting treated like this, it feels so fucking nice to Nagi.

You then curl your digits again, this time to the left, and pleasure surges through Nagi’s entire body. The stretch and pull of his walls, it’s delicious, and Nagi starts incoherently babbling. Both you and Barou take notice and fasten up the pace, following the cues of his whiney voice and body until he’s completely out of breath and ends up hugging the pillow close, burying his face in it.

“I want more—” he gasps.

“Think you’re ready?” Barou grunts out as he brushes some of Nagi’s sweat covered bangs from his face. Slowly, Nagi glances up at him, the usual banter and light teasing dies in his throat as he nods weakly.

The coolness from the dildo comes back again as you run it over his ass, slick with lubricant. One of your hands is gently stroking the side of his hips while the other positions the plastic length up against his entrance. Nagi sharply inhales and sinks his teeth into the pillow as the tip edges itself inside, tears already threatening to spill.

It hurts, to say the least. There’s a small twinge of pleasure, but it’s mostly just burning pain, nothing like the expertise and gentleness of your fingers earlier. Nagi groans loudly when he finally bottoms you out and buries his face deeper into the pillow, trying his best to muffle the incoming sounds.

He feels Barou raking his callous fingers through his white locks, tenderly, mumbling that the pain will subside soon while his other free hand is still occupied on Nagi’s cock.

Nagi feels his heart pounding in his chest, and there’s a heat under his skin that’s making him feel almost lightheaded. He leans into Barou’s touch and can only make out a quiet noise signaling that he understood because, everything right now, is just too much.

You begin moving your hips in small increments, testing the size and his body’s reactions. “Are you okay?” You ask, voice soft as you thrust shallowly.

Okay would be an understatement. Nagi doesn’t know which is hotter: being fucked by you, having his dick being milked by Barou, or learning that he loves having his ass played with. Whichever it is, this is just about the hottest thing he can possibly imagine. Just like as Barou said, the pain subsides fairly quickly as Nagi slowly adjusts to the dildo a bit more every time you tilt your hips.

“Y-Yeah—” Nagi pants, twisting his fists into the bedsheets. “Give me more, please…”

You let your thrusts grow deeper, faster, and the sounds from Nagi intensify in volume as the feeling grows fuller. He cranes his neck around to get a good look at you, wanting to see what kind of expression you wear when you’re fucking him, and the sight makes him feel like he’s breathing for the first time.

You’re beautiful. The way your breasts bounce, half hanging out from your bra, your eyes are half-lidded with arousal as you watch him, gaze filled with liquid fire, intense and downright intoxicated. Nagi lets out another loud moan when you angle your hips to the left, hitting that special spot inside of him, causing his toes to curl and eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Suddenly, a pair of rough hands grips the sides of his face and Nagi’s forced to face with Barou’s own raging arousal. “You’re being so fucking loud.” Barou presses his leaking tip against Nagi’s already gaping mouth.

It doesn’t take Nagi much convincing before lurching forward and swallowing Barou’s thick tip, lapping at his pre and watching the way his defined abs tighten with every lick. When you press against his prostate and make him sob in desperation, Nagi hollows out his cheeks and takes Barou’s length deeper with vigor, like he’s the only thing tethering him to the ground as you threaten to take his soul from his body.

Barou’s breath is ragged as his hips press deeper into his mouth, grinding into him with incremental thrusts that are almost too much, sending dizziness to Nagi’s head. Drool drips down his lips, Barou’s cock on his tongue feels heavy and full, but it’s slightly more bearable when Nagi looks up through his teary lashes at the other male’s flushed expression.

There’s a moment, a pause, where all he hears is breathing.

And then movement.

Both you and Barou set the pace to be harsh and frantic, any sort of slight movement and Nagi finds himself wailing, the sensation being completely all consuming. No matter how much he wants to flail around, your hands are glued to his hips and Barou isn’t letting go of his face easily unless it’s for a momentary air break.

Nagi immediately feels something coiling in his stomach when one of your hands glides down his ass to cup his balls, fondling them gently. He whines against Barou’s cock and bucks into the mattress desperately, the rest of his limbs trembling.

“Do you want to take this every night?” You ask, giving his balls a slight squeeze. Nagi’s walls tighten around the dildo when you thrust it deeper, his cock dripping a steady stream of precum onto the bed. Then, you lean forward, he hears you and Barou exchange lewd moans and cries above him, before continuing, “Or do you want Shoei to fuck you? Want him to put his cock in you and spill his seed in your ass? I bet he’d cum buckets in your greedy little hole.”

Nagi bites into the pillow to keep the ragged sounds at bay, but it isn’t enough to contain the broken sob that tears through his throat as Barou finally pulls away, leaving behind a sloppy, thick trail of saliva. “I-I want…”

Barou is looking down at him and Nagi wants to feel upset, wants to say something witty back, but he can’t help but to think what he would feel like inside of him.

Barou rubs his arousal and repositions himself to the back. You chuckle, knowing the answer, and slowly pull out, giving Nagi’s ass a farewell slap before kissing Barou. “Be careful with him, okay?”

“You’re going to baby him too much,” Barou grunts, but the way he places his hands on Nagi’s hips, carefully flipping him over so that he’s resting flat on his back, and the way he ebbs his tip over his hole — it’s gentle and almost tender.

You discard the strap-on and hover over Nagi’s face, your thumbs brushing over his perky nipples as you begin to lower yourself on his face. “Make me cum, cutie.”

“Mhm,” he bites his lips to stifle a moan as Barou begins sliding his length in.

Bigger. Thicker. Heavier than the dildo.

Nagi almost wants to scream as another rush of arousal courses through him.

It stretches Nagi even further as his walls clenched around his cock, balls tightening and cock jumping against his own stomach. He lets out a high, choked breath as you fully lower yourself on top, the sweetness of your folds engulf his senses and your hands immediately dart towards Nagi’s length, encasing it in a tight grip. You stop to palm at his tip until he’s whimpering and squirming, his hips rising into short, aborted thrusts, before you work your hand down to the base again.

Nagi’s knees rise, heels digging into the mattress, from the overstimulation and Barou takes this opportunity to quicken the pace. He takes hold of Nagi’s legs, setting them around his waist, and breathes heavily through his nose with several snaps of his hips. You thumb his leaking slit at the same time, gathering them up in your palm, and smearing the precum all over his head and around his shaft until Nagi is jolting and crying at every thrust.

“T-Too much—! I’m gonna—” but the rest of the words drown out, erased from Nagi’s mind, and he feels himself coming undone by your hands, streaks of heavy white painting his lower stomach and chest.

“Easy there, Seishiro,” you rasp out, hands finding home on his chest and you begin to fuck yourself on his tongue until he feels your slick liquid dripping down his throat.

You cum with a cry, cursing up a storm, thighs shaking around his head that makes him foggy and dizzy, before rolling off and slumping to his side. You close the distance between his lips, tasting yourself and swallowing the rest of his sobs and pleas as Barou chases his own end.

“We got you,” you murmur, pulling away and kissing Barou in turn.

Everything still feels new and electrifying as Nagi is slowly trying to calm himself from his release — the burning in his thighs from hugging Barou’s waist, the steady rhythm pounding against his prostate, listening to the other male’s quiet but rough groans with every snap, the possessive grip on his hips — it’s an addictive feeling. Nagi doesn’t fight when the heavy feeling drapes over and swallows him whole, he doesn’t tamper with the urge to writhe and whine, and lets Barou devour him whole when he finally cums inside.

Barou exits him so abruptly that Nagi can’t help but moan at the suddenness of his absence. He whimpers pitifully and thrusts up into the empty air, twisting on top of the sweat soaked sheets until a warm hand settles along the line of his brow.

“Hey, calm down,” it’s Barou and he’s wearing a concerned expression, much to Nagi’s surprise. He lays himself beside Nagi and blows out a deep breath, covering his reddened face with palms. “Sorry if I was rough.”

On the other side of Nagi, he hears you sigh loudly, applying a chaste kiss to his cheeks before also settling down. “Did you like that, Sei?”

“Yeah,” he hums, and instinctively lays his head on your shoulder. “Felt really good, thanks…”

Then, you say, without missing a beat, “Wished you two would just admit your feelings for each other.”

Barou’s cheeks flush and he tries to turn away to hide it, forgetting for a moment that Nagi is right there and gets a faceful of his surprised eyes. Instead of getting up, Barou glowers up at the ceiling. “There’s nothing to admit, he’s just a fuck buddy to us.”

“Sure thing,” you snort back and add another kiss to Nagi’s cheek, almost to sooth out the forming pang in his chest from hearing his words. “Maybe meeting earlier would’ve been neat? Imagine you guys becoming friends in middle school or something!”

Barou doesn’t know how to respond to that, and it’s you who ends up laughing, light and airy. Nagi stays silent and just grips around your waist, burrowing himself into your chest, inhaling your scent and lightly sucking at the area.

“We should probably take another bath,” Barou says lowly.

“Can we wait till later? I’m pretty tired and fucked out.” Nagi finally speaks but his voice is weak.

Barou looks like he was about to object to that but you quickly flash him a look and he shuts his mouth, only nodding and then pulling the blankets over the three of you. Nagi feels Barou massaging his back for a bit before eventually draping his arms over his waist. Nagi’s head stays cushioned on you while your fingers play with his hair.

Everything about this feels nice and domestic, it makes Nagi wish he could be with you two permanently instead of thinking about the ‘what if’s’.

#q'd for the new year!!#doobean writes #bllk smut #bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #barou shoei smut #blue lock smut #barou shoei x reader #barou x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro smut #nagi x reader #blue lock x female reader #bllk x female reader #barou shouei #barou smut

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thyandrawrites · 7 months

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Some language and translation trivia from episode nagi

So, I recently reread episode nagi 1-3 in japanese, and since I enjoy translation trivia a lot, I thought I would compile all my observations in a post. Please don’t take this too seriously! While I do have a language degree, I’m not a professional translator. In no way this is meant as a dig towards the professionals working on the official release! These are just some fun facts I thought I’d share.

without further ado, let’s delve into it!

On top of his already limited (kinda childish) vocabulary, Nagi’s speech bubbles often forgo complex kanji and favor writing the words out in hiragana. He sometimes does the same with (foreign) words that should be written out in katakana (example: Barou’s beloved “king”). We know this is a quirk of Nagi’s because he sometimes uses kanji for the same words. The most notable example is his favorite one, mendoukusai, “hassle”—mostly written in hiragana, sometimes shortened, sometimes elongated for dramatic, whiny emphasis, and rarely written out in kanji.

Since kanji are taught by grade in japanese schools, the foregoing them in a certain character’s lines can hint that the guy doesn’t have a higher education. However, in Nagi’s case, I think it’s meant to make him come across as unsophisticated or a bit childish. Or maybe just lazy. I think the former, though, considering how all his compliments always circle back to the same, like, 4 juvenile variations of "amazing".

(more under a cut for length):

Still on the topic of speech patterns, Nagi talks in plain form. For those who don't know what that means, it's an informal register, very common between teens. Nagi seems to use it with his elders, too, though, and that's a bit less common. You're supposed to talk in polite form to strangers and to your elders. Then again, pretty much everyone in blue lock talks that way. There's not a lot of respect for your elders in this series. Or for your peers, lol

As for Reo, he talks in male speech! Still very much informal and common, particularly between rowdy teens, but if plain form can still be acceptable in a lot of social situations, male speech is distinctly cocky, self-confident and impolite, so not what you'd expect from the distinguished heir of a billionaire who prides himself as a businessman in the making, ahah. He talks that way to Ego as well, btw.

Both of them tend not to use honorifics. Reo more so. In all three volumes, Reo used them once, to calm Nagi down while he was angry at Barou. Nagi mostly goes without too, but he sometimes uses them, when the situation calls for it, or a bit ironically. If you're curious, here's what I noticed: he uses "san" for Baa-ya when talking to her (when he leaves Choki in her care), but not when he's talking to Reo about her. He calls Zantetsu "dentist-san" when the latter drops his backstory, and "Zantetsu-kun" when the guy scores after listening to Reo's advice. And when all three finally link up, Nagi tacks on a "sama" to Reo's name while calling him a king (in the chess sense. Fun fact, it might or might not have been a pun, since Reo's name contains the kanji for king btw). That's pretty much it for epinagi so far. He just uses surnames without honorifics (or nicknames) for everyone else normally. Same for Reo.

When talking to Nagi, Reo refers to his mother as 母親 (hahaoya, "mom") and to his father as 親父 (oyaji, "old man, pops") and クソ親父 (kuso oyaji, "shitty old man") respectively. Idk if that changes when he's talking to them tho, as he hasn't yet in epinagi. But so far his contempt seems to be only directed at his father.

Upon seeing Kira, Reo describes him as "Japan's gem", but the word he uses for "gem" is 宝 (takara), treasure, pretty much the same he uses for Nagi (= 宝物 takaramono, or treasured thing, prized possession). Hence Nagi looking up, unimpressed:

To check out what the fuss was about. His face dhsvbdhdhdhsbs When Nagi thinks Reo's talking about Isagi, then, Reo corrects him by pointing his face toward Kira and saying not the dark-haired one, but that "really good looking guy". He calls him an ikemen btw, lmao.

I'm not sure if this was in the eng version too, but Reo calls Nagi and Zantetsu's team up the "neet combo". It's pretty self-explanatory how this relates to Nagi, but I wonder what about Zantetsu screamed "neet" to him.

When Zantetsu adamantly refuses to take Reo's advice, Reo gets super mad and calls him "obaka-sama", which. I can't with his pettiness ahah. Okay, let me explain. He's tacking on an honorific prefix ("o") and the highest honorific suffix ("sama") to an insult. 😂😂 Normally, you use honorifics to pay respect to and elevate the status of whatever or whoever you're tacking them on to. In this case, Reo's using them sarcastically, but he goes extra out of the way to be scathing. Zantetsu hates being called an idiot, but Reo feels he's acting unreasonable with his holier-than-thou attitude, so he upgrades his regular insult to mock that, basically. He's more or less saying, "oh great, revered moron".

Not a linguistic trivia, but. Nagi has a weekly planner for his bread eating habits. The day Reo joins his class to spy on him was a tuesday, cause tuesdays are melon bread days.

When he's making a confident remark, Reo occasionally speaks with a sing-song in his voice.

During the match against team X, Barou mocks Reo and Nagi's coordination and mutual dependence with a jab. He calls them a couple who wear matching outfits. Still laughing about this one tbh

now onto my favorite one

Ever wondered why Nagi’s response here doesn’t come across as reassuring to Reo? Well, I think I have finally figured it out!

While the translation above is 100% correct, I feel like the miscommunication lies in a matter of contextual ambiguity. When Reo says, quote, “You were supposed to team up with me,” in japanese it’s more like, “But teaming up with me is a must!” To which Nagi replies, “You and I are going to be the best in the world. That’s a must.”

The theme (=what is being talked about) of Reo’s sentence is the “must” (zettai) part. Meaning, something that is absolute, unconditional. Reo is making a conjecture, the assumption that they’ll work with each other as they promised, but he’s also implicitly expecting Nagi to agree. He’s saying our combo is the unchangeable condition here. You know this.

Nagi responds with something he means as reassuring, as a confirmation that he has their promise in mind. But since he echoes Reo’s word choice (zettai), and applies it to something else, it comes across wrong, more like he’s correcting Reo on what the “must” actually is. Not teaming up with each other until the end like Reo posits, but the simple agreement that they’ll be world class one day. With or without each other.

This miscommunication is made worse by the fact that Reo’s declared ego is making Nagi the best striker in the world. So when Nagi follows this with a remark about how their team up wasn’t the strongest, Reo of course takes the “correction” to mean “someone else can better help me become the best instead of you. bye. nice hanging out with you till now. see you at the world cup, xoxo”

Simply put, Nagi thought he was explaining himself, but what he got across was that he was rejecting Reo’s ego altogether and moving on. That’s why the art then shows Reo’s ego chains falling apart.

When Bachira asks Nagi if he’s secretly the “super cold type” right after leaving for the 3v3, in japanese it’s a neat, direct callback to the scene in chapter 2 where Nagi tells Reo he's okay with him teaming up with someone stronger than himself, and Reo calls that “heartless.” Both times the word used is the same, 薄情 (hakujou), cold-hearted, heartless, though iirc it was translated differently in english

They both say they feel lonely after their split up. Nagi in response to Bachira’s line as per the previous point (here’s a post I made about it a while back). And Reo when he thinks about Nagi’s change in chapter 13 and says he feels lonely, scared and weak. I will go down with the idea that they’re each other’s first friend.

Ending this on a less sad note, when Rin calls Bachira “bowlcut”, the original phrasing reads okappa, from the mythical creature’s hairstyle. Now please google what an okappa looks like, lmao

More epinagi language and translation trivia you might enjoy:

notes on Nagi’s line “I’m gonna say something selfish”

notes (and misconceptions) about Nagi and Reo calling each other “partner”

#Blue lock #Nagi seishirou #Mikage reo #Seishiro nagi #Reo mikage #Episode nagi #Epinagi #Bllk thoughts #I hope this is as fun to read as it was for me to compile!

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okkalo · 1 year

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nagi x reader

genre(s): fluff

cw: choki prefers lady cacti idk?

cacti lovers fr

ps. kinda sudden ending oops

“how about this one? i think she’s super cute!” you pointed to a cactus sitting in a small and curvy pot. surely choki would like her as a friend.

“that’s obviously a guy cactus,” nagi remarked as if you had just said the worst thing on the planet.

“huh? but look how slim they are,” you quickly replied, not interested in losing this small fight.

“yeah but it has no flower,” he lazily replied, so uninterested in the task at hand that he slowly start to lean his weight on you.

it was a tuesday night. you had gone over to nagi’s place and noticed him tending to choki, his small cactus. you immediately had the bright idea of getting choki a friend.

so now, here you were at some small flower shop next to a convenience store both you and nagi were regulars at, trying to pick out a cactus choki would like.

“okay but i still think choki would like him,” you try to reason as you rub his back, hoping he doesn’t push anymore of his heavy weight on you.

“choki is only into girls.” nagi declares, his head finding its way into the crook of your neck.

“we’re looking for a girlfriend now?” you slither your hand up to his mess of hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.

“duh.” he breathed, causing you to shiver as his hot breath danced on your neck. he turned his head, his hair tickling you as he moved, peeking at the cacti options. “choki would like her.” his eyes landed on one, with a flower you noticed, lazily lifting his arm to point at it.

you made an excited hum in approval. nagi whined as you pushed him off of you, moving to go pick the cactus up. this one was in a pink pot, much smoother than the other. choki would probably appreciate the minimalist aspect to her.

“you sure this is what choki wants? the absolute love of his life?” you question giving a small smile once you see nagi struggling to stay up by himself.

“yeah, yeah. let’s go home already and cuddle,” he groans, hand meeting your back to push you to the checkout.

he secretly enjoyed this late night tuesday trip to get choki a girlfriend.

#bllk x reader #bllk nagi #bllk imagines #bllk drabble #bllk nagi x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock nagi #bllk fluff #blue lock imagines #blue lock drabbles #blue lock fluff #blue lock #bllk #blue lock nagi x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro x you #nagi x reader #nagi

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 1 year

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could you trust them with your houseplants? blue lock edition

a/n: crack treated seriously for all the plant havers, lovers and other enthusiasts. i did this for another fandom i write for and figured ‘why not blue lock’ after talking with my friend @cafedanslanuit about what plant i’d give her and reo as a housewarming gift

a no question. your plants are thriving like you never left to begin with. probably your go to plant sitter if something comes up and you have to leave for a while. you will definitely come home to your plants not only being alive but in pristine condition. maybe there will even be a new leaf sprouting when you come back. responsible, reliable, and you can rest easy knowing if another situation arises where you have to leave your plants will be fine.

chigiri (royalty recognizes royalty because your plants do well in his hands. he tends to your plants as carefully as he tends his leg and his hair. just make sure your plant is pet friendly because if it isn’t, it’s not coming in his house)

kunigami (looked up plant care guides and youtube videos because he refuses to let one of your plants die after you left him in charge of them. might even consider getting a plant of his own afterwards since he enjoyed the experience of checking on the little guys after practice or a bad game. it made him feel a little better to be distracted caring for something else)

rin (you’d think he’d be bad but he manages to fit plant care into his meticulous schedule with no mistakes)

barou (he complains that your plants are pest bringers but he takes care of them quite well and none of them ever have infestations on his watch because he checks them everyday. if something is even a little off, he is right on it)

the ‘technically a no question’ wild card:

nagi (it depends on how high maintenance your plant is. if it is low maintenance like choki, great. your plant is thriving because the man barely had to do anything for it. but you’ve got something a bit more high maintenance like a calathea or a peace lily, nagi will be struggling. but just how he sprung into action when he saw reo distraught that they might lose, even if your plant is high maintenance he tries his best because he knows how much it means to you)

do not leave your houseplants under any circumstances with these individuals because you will come back to less plants than you started with. if they even remember to water them, they will definitely water them too much. even if your plant manages to recover from the lack of proper care, they’re never the same afterwards. no you’re not being dramatic, plant murderer, you know how your plants are like on a good day and it has been nothing but bad day after bad day since you’ve come back

ryuusei (why did you even ask him to watch it in the first place? that was your first mistake and you just have to live with the consequences now. he probably killed them on purpose, just to fuck with them. threw hard vodka on them and everything)

reo (bro can’t keep a plant alive to save his own life and neither of you know why. you swear he touched your zz for one second and it flopped over immediately. YOUR FUCKING ZZ! THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ONE OF THE TOP HARD TO KILL PLANTS. he becomes a houseplant serial killer afterwards because he keeps buying plants over and over again swearing ‘this time will be different’ but the end result is all the same)

sae (he literally forgot that you asked and watered none of your plants. he eventually noticed them after the wilting and then sent you a text of them going ‘my bad. i’ll get you some new ones’)

you HAD a plant. now it is theirs and there’s no way you’re getting it back when you return home. they developed an emotional attachment to your plants through the many odd hours of talking to them randomly and getting excited when a new leaf or bloom would sprout on a stem. now your plants have been conveniently relocated to their room and any decisions about said plant needs to be passed by them. apparently you don’t appreciate “little rain” enough. yes, they even named it

isagi (if you aren’t living together yet, he is coming up with excuses as to why he can’t bring it back yet. he’s sure that little noel noa might have mealy bugs and we can’t have that spreading to the new monstera you bought right? when you tell him there’s no bugs on it though and to return your baby, he looks like that photo his mom showed you of him of when he was a toddler holding holding his football closely to his chest as he holds little noel noa and you can’t help but cave)

bachira (bro bought a houseplant stroller to take your plant on walks, put stickers on their pot and would probably take it to watch him practice if isagi didn’t draw a line on bringing plants to practice. when you ask for your plant back he just goes “our plant, babe”)

#look she's writing #headcanons #crack taken seriously #i did this for genshin might as well do this for bllk too #chigiri x reader #kunigami x reader #rin x reader #barou x reader #nagi x reader #ryuusei x reader #reo x reader #sae x reader #isagi x reader #bachira x reader

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vickyvicarious · 7 months

Text

JONATHAN HARKER'S JOURNAL. MY BOY IS BACCKKKK

omg it's been so long

"all I wrote down was... true." and then the pause... ajfklasdf

the HESITATION before "the Count" and the HATRED ohohohohoho

ooh somehow I always missed that Jonathan went to pick van Helsing up from the hotel. no wonder he was surprised to see him

heehee, Jonathan being charmed by van Helsing being charmed by Mina

that sting of music at "you have cured me." is spooky!

Love the delivery of "Doctor, you don't know what it is to doubt everything, even yourself. -No, you don't!... you couldn't... with eyebrows like yours!" Jonathan sounds almost lost in his own head/memories at first, and then like he's cutting van Helsing off forcefully, too forcefully. He realizes how intense he's being, tries to save it by turning things into a lighthearted joke

ohh, van Helsing has such a fun laugh when he isn't King Laughing.

Jonathan: "<3 I would listen to him go on praising Mina for a day <3"

more HANDSHAKES OF FRIENDSHIP I love them so much

ohhhh, Jonathan's voice when he says it made him choky. So cute.

Jonathan's ferocity on "I am with you heart and soul."

""The Westminster Gazette"—I knew it by the colour" Jonathan is so observant. I wonder if he went home and bought his own copy to read for what affected van Helsing so much. but he might be too busy with Count preparations

"Mein Gott! Mein Gott! So soon! so soon!" THIS DELIVERYYYYYY and the repeated "so soon"s continuing under the train noises. agonizing

I never realized that van Helsing didn't expect Lucy to be risen yet! This is the first he knows of her hunting down kids!

"Truly there is no such thing as finality." god Jack sounds so exhausted. He's had more sleep in the past few days than in ages but he sounds tired and miserable still. And once again he's isolating himself in work, not reaching out to friends for comfort.

"I had a letter from Arthur," the wistful almost laugh, and god everything that comes after about Art and Quincey. It is so apparent that he wants to be there with them, that he wishes he could be receiving comfort too, but he doesn't feel like he is the one who deserves it.

"he will only let out enough at a time to whet curiosity." he sounds tired here. in an annoyed way, but mostly just tired. he doesn't seem to have the energy to feel curious anymore, because what's the point? Lucy is already gone.

van Helsing STILL refusing to speak first, buddy he is outright asking you to just tell him. start with the vampires!

every single "____? no?" is so funny. he says it almost the same way every time, trying to find his baseline for Jack's skepticism

"For, had she live one more day, we could have save her." oooof

"Do you mean to tell me that Lucy was bitten by such a bat; and that such a thing is here in London in the nineteenth century?" van Helsing, this was your opportunity! if only he knew that Jack has noticed Bat Weirdness already, it would have been a great opening

so much corn

"Here I interrupted him. I was getting bewildered;" he sounds it, oh my goodness. Also still just upset and distressed by all this

"[harsh sigh] To believe what?" SO frustrated, ahhahaha I love it, and I totally get it

""In God's name, Professor Van Helsing, what! do! you! meannnn?"" bwhaahahahaa omg Jack Has Had Enough

"Oh, my friend, why, think you, did I go so far round, why take so long to tell you so simple a thing? Was it because I hate you and have hated you all my life? Was it because I wished to give you pain? Was it that I wanted, now so late, revenge for that time when you saved my life, and from a fearful death? Ah no!" VERY dramatic wording, some more Miette energy here

but seriously, Jack is so loyal, and willing to go so far for the people he loves

Dr Vincent sounding American is funny because that means so far the only people in London to namedrop vampires are all American. I guess that fits with vampire bats being from South America

"he said he wanted to play with the 'bloofer lady." so at least we can assume Lucy has that vampire charm going on pretty well. She isn't hunting via scare tactics or stealth. She's playing with them, or at least they think she is. thoughts about vampire hunting strategies...

"and standing back, politely, but quite unconsciously, motioned me to precede him. There was a delicious irony in the offer, in the courtliness of giving preference on such a ghastly occasion." this is funny for other reasons too if you think about how nervous van Helsing probably is too. also how he is trying to make sure Jack can't just leave

Jack is great at setting a spooky/sad scene.

the bag rustling noises! the coffinlid creak!

Jack's whisper... and his protectiveness over Lucy...

van Helsing's bone saw gets a lot of use for non-bone purposes

"all the dogged argumentativeness" ohohoho he's feeling so stubborn and almost petulant sounding. I love the sarcasm in van Helsing's "That is good logic."

the strong threat of breakdown of trust in van Helsing offering the key, so Jack will know he isn't messing with the coffin/corpse. And Jack just stubbornly refusing because that wouldn't be enough to stop van Helsing anyways

and yet despite his anger, his frustration and exhaustion and disbelief, he still doesn't leave. he willingly stands vigil.

the music as Lucy comes through. oh, I love it

"Are you satisfied now?" van Helsing has an edge of guilt and horror, the tired almost sigh on the last word. And yet this entire situation has NOT been predisposing Jack to buy in so he just gets even snippier and more sarcastic ("yes, it is a child!")

Jack and van Helsing sneaking up and dropping a little kid in the path of a policeman is such an absurd image. but it's really sad at the same time. I feel awful for these poor kids.

#dracula daily #re: dracula #van helsing #jonathan harker #jack seward #vampire!lucy #lucy westenra

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yatorihell · 3 months

Text

Noragami Reread Volume 18-21

We've finally come back to the original wish, and there's a lot of foreshadowing going on... I wish I had Discord emojis

Vol 18

Takemika and Yato still fist fighting in the background as their guides chat

Kiun defending Takemika's actions from Sekiun

This is the first time we've seen Nora get banged up this badly

Nana sees a whole army and is ready to catch hands I love her

Kazuma shows up to stop Bishamon and the whole flashback of him hold her hand

'I will always be by your side' (40 chapters later)

God remember when this chapter dropped and so did Kazuma hhfg

The whole flashback of Kazubisha then going to current situation I hate this manga

Who's that beefcake god Yato took the garment from hello

'You will never save anyone' vs recent chapter

Father neck cut tracker: 1

Baby Yato panel and then he just obliterates Heaven

'I'm not letting dad kill another drinking buddy' then he slashes her

Oh I'm so sad Adachitoka you make me so sad that Kazuma is carried away

Oh I'm so sad Adachitoka I'm going to kill myself in front of you that flashback to choki vs the bloody ear I'll never forgive you

Oh yes we're back to tying up Yato

I PROMISE I WON'T LET ANYTHING HAPPEN TO YOU

Hiyori imagining Yato dying like Ebisu then going to be useful find Bishamon

Yato popping off on heaven

Amaterasu reveal followed by immediate death sentence hshdh

BOXKINE ARRIVES @boxkine I miss you <3

God remember when we got that memory page and dissected the hell out of it, thentheories on what container it was

Tenjin coming in clutch with the trial by pledge

Remember the reaction to Tsuyu getting beheaded jsbdbn Tenjin and Yato's faces when it happens

Daikoku volunteering I'm so sad Adachitoka you make me so sad

Yato's reaction to it all I hate this

Yukine memories breaking through nsbdb hell

Yato's dark nature seeping out why couldn't you show it to us king

Oh remember how bad this cliffhanger was with the fact Kofuku is a bad luck charm

Volume 19

Oh Hiyori's hand on Yato's face she's so relieved

Small trio panel jsbd

Kofuku’s guilt over not wanting to risk Daikoku but tbf they all acknowledge they wouldn't risk their own guides

Hiyori waiting for Yukine to fall asleep before leaving him

Yukine's bloody nails not a foreshadowing at all

Kuraha scratching the door, poor thinvs stuck in form until Bishamon wakes up in 5 years

Arahabaki faking Nana's death to bring her home

'I abandoned my little girl' there are several daddy issues in this manga

Yukine trauma getting stuck in the dark it gets worseee

Adachitoka sweetening us up with happy trio panel as if they didn't just traumatise Yukine

Time for a lughthearted chapter of Ebisu getting kidnapped

Kunimi bargaining for vacation time as if Ebisu's life isn't on the line

Kunimi with no sleep is how I feel

Little Nora is so innocent she won't kill you

Ebisu not cared for and he knows he'll be replaced, but at this point it's child neglect

'Death doesn't mean the end of flesh it's the end of memories' running of the most recent chapter live laugh lobotomy

Hiyori being useful finding Ebisu with scent

Remember the superkunimi photoshop trend we did

Oh Hiyori and Yukine height difference grows I'm so sad

Yukine having a scary dream but it was Yato and he felt better

WILL THEY HAVE TO FACE IT EVENTUALLY

I WANT TO BE HERE WATCHING OVER THEM

Adachitoka is really giving the trio content before separating them for like 5 years

Hiyori narcolepsy plot finally returns

SO EVEN AFTER I GROW UP I WANT TO REMEMBER IT

Oh look at all the photos I'm so sad Adachitoka you make me so sad

Hiyori shooting down the flash mob idea and it happens anyway

THOSE COLD DEAD EYES I mean it's accurate

Yato thinking Bishamon can come as if she isn't hanging by a thread

Takemika joining because he thinks it'll teach him how to be like Yato hdhd

Nora fuck off I forgot what you're about to do

Oh they're at the naming place I'm so sad

ALTHOUGH YOU MAY STUMBLE AND LOSE YOUR WAY I'M HERE TO CALL OUT YOUR NAME there is a gun in my mouth

Oh I'm going to end it the blossoms and his real name is spring tree oh I'm so sad Adachitoka you make me so sad

Hiyori's wearing her old uniform and Yato notices she's grown

Nora you fucking slut you ruined the whole chapter (I'm not slut shaming I'm just mad)

Oh Yatori are ao happy it's gunna end so soon

Yato forbidding Yukine's romance ahhg

Takemika just bursting through the roof like it's nothing

God another ablution for Yukine you'd think he'd just come out with it after the last time

Kiun is a whore confirmed

Oh this is the last time the three of them are together I'm so sad it was when Yukine runs off and then jdjdbd

'You think Yaboku's going to come for his daddy's head' yes <3

God what is that face Nora I can't tell if she actually likes Yukine

Nora girl bossing gaslighting herself into Takemika's employ

Oh my god as soon as I saw Hiyori with the bike I realised where I was I hate this

'Maybe you don't even realise when you're in love' what if I died

Yato read her diary NO THATS WHY HE'S DOING IT AAAAAAAA

He's following Bishamons plan I'm so sad

'I KNOW THAT YOU WILL NEVER FORGET ME HIYORI' Oh my god its because he believes he can be reincarnated from Hiyori

'YOU'LL SEE ME AGAIN' YEAH AND YOU'LL BE A CHILD AND HIYORI GETS KILLED

Vol 20

Yato really giving it all up about Father he's finally serious about ending it

'I wanted to be together until the very last second' vs recent chapter

'I still have Hiyori' he's thinking of reincarnation he puts so much belief in her

Arahabaki is basically running an orphanage

Nana hunted a bear for dinner jsbdb

'I don't want anyone taken from me ever again' vs recent chapter

Yato clicking Bishamon is unprotected then flashing to Father killing her oh we were so pressed after this chapter

Oh that intro had us we thought Bishamon reincarnated

Rip Kuguha you duplicitous bitch

Kazuma hatred for himself and everyone else he's microwave meal ready to be your burial vessel

Yato admitting he admired Bishamon and he was jealous as a war god

'I want you to die Yato' isn't that the bloody mood

Iwami not wanting to change history so he lets it repeat over and over watching this child suffer

Kazuma giving Harry Potter vibes with that unbreakable tracking spell on him and Nora

Nora showing up to Yukine saying she's been abandoned and her names are gone this was sus in the first place but we had a few nice chapters from it

Saying it was a lie liking him but Yukine still seems to like her

Oooo Father you're a mean one you're so slimy die

Nora wanted names to fill a void because she's not figured out she wants to live

Yukine wanting to take care of Nora

Yato just name him why do you feel such a way about sharing shinki bsbd

'Sweet innocent girl as a human sacrifice' fucjifbh

Hiyori death forshadowing tracker: 5

'You'll never have Yato' hhdbd probably not

Kazuma projecting his rejection from Bishamon on Hiyori telling her to try confessing to Yato

GODS CANNOT LOVE MORTALS I hate this life

A GOD AND A HUMAN CAN NEVER BE TOGETHER we've just been ignoring the signs <3

I LOVE YATO

Kazuma forcing Yato to name him and kissing his Kazu name I'm unwell

Oh they're both crying same

'So I never forget' girl you're about to forget so hard

'A gentler version of myself would suit him better' fuckifnnf Yukine would be such a good big brother

I'VE ACTUALLY GOT SONEONE I LOVE TOO hellscape

Hiyori's diary must show up in the final chapter it is the catalyst

Tenjin knew she liked Yato all this time jdbd

'They spend countless reincarnations waiting and that something becomes cherished' Oh Yato's going to be waiting for her when she's an old lady like grandpa Iki

'God's love isn't only about giving also taking' vs recent chapter

'Whether you live and forget or die and forget you have to give an answer' I hate this manga

Yukinora hanging out and him treating her like she's alive

'If I'm going to forget it'll be like we never met at all' hate hate hate

Volume 21

Hiyori ignoring the warning from teacher about falling behind and going to look for Yato girl you may as well die

Rekki practice

Father reincarnated into random bodies which is interesting, and he got the powers of a god after returning from yomi?

Yukine daddy issues have been stirred

'Nora died a terrible death'

Oh no Yukine's thinking about his death

Yukine came that close to breaking Daikoku and Kiun

Kofuku knows Yukine's is doomed I hate this, I wonder where they go since they disappear for a while

Yukine starts looking at news articles about people who have died sjd

Nora trying to stop Yukine but it turns out she's not trying she's sowing the seeds for him to seek out Father

'I want to meet my mum and dad' are you sure about that

'I chose to stay on this side, it's fine this way' ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT

'You're smiling and that bothers me' fucking mood

Father's really just a bastard and now Hiyori's cord is damaged

Masaomi forgot Yato but not the shadow or ayakashi which is interesting for Hiyori's future links to Yato

Hiyori death foreshadowing tracker: 6

Masaomi remembers Yato and says was good looking but kind of pathetic djdnnd that's how I like my men

Kazuma doesn't realise Bishamon chose Nana so Kaazuma wouldn't die

Bishamon tear oh she heard it all I'm so sad

Yato in the traffic cone using Takemika as target practice kdnc

I'm not gunna get won over by the Sorcerer' ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THAT

Oh he's taken the protection charm he believes in it (it doesn't really work <3)

Vomiting is this the last time he sees his home (Kofuku’s)

Poor Ebisu please learn to dress it's not hard

Takemika's messy hair is a look

Daddy Daikoku making a kite with Yukine

Ajshbd coo phone taking a dump on Takemika

Rip Takemika Kofuku is swearing vengeance

So the og plan is the Gods go hunting with Amaterasu without shinki

Yukine you dumb bitch this manga could've ended like 26 chapters early and with significantly less trauma

I'M NOT YUKINE GET THIS OFF ME

I'LL BE TAKING YUKINE

#noragami aragoto #noragami #hiyori #yato #yukine #yatori #goodbyenoragami

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masked-artist-xp · 6 months

Text

She eepy :)

I think she dreamin about pets :>

Look at dat lil smile on her choky faceee

agghhdvkdbrjdofj I luv mah babyyy- she just so chonk and floff-

#ultimate goblin brain spillz #my doggo #shes so cuuuute #>v<#baby bean

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orpheusredux · 2 years

Note

2,10 and 32 for the nsfw asks list.

Thank you 😍

Hi! Thanks for being responding to this call out! Just a reminder, these questions and responses are STRICTLY 18+, do not ask or comment or even look if you are a minor. Anyway, I just got Eddie's reply so I'll pass it over to him:

Hey @ziasaph how you doin’?

Let’s see what you… woah…. Getting straight to the real talk, huh? OK.

2: Rough sex or soft sex?

Do I really have to choose?

Like, there will be times when you find yourself having the slowest, softest, most romantic fuck you’ve ever experienced - and the next minute, you’re pounding her into the mattress - at her request, mind - while she pulls your hair and calls you names so filthy you’d want to wash your own mouth out with soap. It’s called ‘being in the moment’ and I’m all the fucking way into it.

The only preference I really have is that everyone is on board. Like, not just, “gee, I don’t know… OK, I guess?”. I mean if you want me to choke you, I want, “CHOKE ME LIKE AN ANIMAL, YOU SICK FUCK”, or words to that effect.

I’m not into choking, myself. I get that other folks are. Each to their own. You should, you know, discuss that shit though, before getting into it, and only do it with someone you know and trust. I’m not shitting around.

All bets are off if you find yourself in one of those situations where your hormones have gotten the better of your head commonly known as “hate fucking”. Becky Simpson knows what I’m talking about. That bitch bites.

Sometimes, though, when you’ve gone and caught feelings you don’t want to be too rough. It’s not that you don’t care about their basic, you know, humanity when you’re getting rough. Sometimes you just want to make that person feel, you know, cherished.

I’ve only - I’ve only had that kind of experience once, and it was pretty intense. You don’t need to get rough when it’s like that. Your fucking feelings are rough enough.

10: Have you ever been caught masturbating?

Oh my God. OK, yes, twice.

The first time - and this if fucking terrible - I was 13, and my old man was out of choky for five fucking minutes, so we were all walking on egg shells around the house.

My mom - God, she was so sweet natured, and I was such a little jerk. Ah, shit. Gimme a minute.

OK, I’m alright. So… where was I? So,I was stressed out with dad being home and I was spending all my time in my room. Gareth, that sweet little pervert, had taken pity on me and allowed me to borrow his Precious - his 1984 November edition of Hustler, with the, you know, the-the ‘gynecological’ shots.

So I’m hiding out in my bedroom, my mom’s hiding out in the laundry at the other end of the house, and my old man on his fat ass in the lounge with a beer, sitting between us.

Now, I’m 13, and by this stage I’ve been spanking it for a while, but I’ve never come. I mean, I’ve come, but never blown a wad. Sorry for the TMI.

So, anyway, I can take the anticipation no longer, and I whip out Gareth’s treasure trove of spank material, and I get to it. By the time I get to Miss November, I’m in fucking love here. I’m spanking it like my life depends on it.

Mom’s doing my laundry. But then I guess the fucking cycle ends, and she brings a pile of my clean fucking clothes into my room, and I swear to God, it goes like this:

The door opens, Mom walks in, cops a load of me with my junk in my hand and Miss fuckin’ November spread eagle on my lap, and screams. Not just a shocked yelp, it’s a full on Friday the 13th Halloween scream like she’s being murdered. And I just - I just splooge for the first time, all over Gareth’s prized copy of Hustler.

My fuckin’ dad thinks one of his old drug buddies is trying to break into the house or some shit, and he comes steaming in, goddamned shot gun blazing and he blows a fucking hole in the wall of the double wide, only to realise what’s really going on when he sees my mom with her hands over her eyes, my room covered in clothes and spunk, and me with my pants round my ankles trying to cover my dick with a copy of Hustler.

Anyway, the neighbors called the cops, and my Dad’s parole conditions said no weapons, so pfft, he ends up straight back inside. So, I died of shame, but it was for a good cause.

The second time was… well, it was way sexier, but I don’t want to talk about it right now. Let’s just say it didn’t involve my mom or the fucking 5-0.

32: Have you ever tasted yourself? [If no, would you?] [If yes, what did you think?]

Holy shit, of course! Like, when I was a kid, all the time. Not so much now, unless…

Well, I mean, I’m not a huge fan of BJs, I think I’ve said this before. But, you know when someone you care about blows you, and she lets you come in her mouth?

And it feels fucking incredible, because it was her, and she wanted to do that for you.

And you look down at her, and she is just so fucking beautiful, you don’t know how you got so lucky. And she’s smiling this shy, giddy little smile back at you because she just made you come your goddamn brains out.

Her big blue eyes, and her face all tear stained, but she’s happy because she knows, she knows, she is the reason you’re having trouble speaking and like co-ordinating your fucking limbs…

And you have to kiss her, right? You -you have to. So you pull her up off her knees, and you hold her sweet, sweet body close, and you press your mouth to hers, and slip your tongue past her lips, past her cute little crooked teeth, and you taste yourself there? So, you know you’ll be inside her for hours. All fucking day, she’s carrying you with her. That’s…that's... ah, shit. Gimme another minute.

----

Naw, eddie... don't cry buddy!

Check out the list of questions if you want to ask Eddie anything. And don't forget to check out my AO3 and my masterlists.

Also, I hate to ask, but would you consider reblogging? It really does help!

(CAVEAT: Y'all know this isn't really Eddie, right? Because he is a fictional character. This is a writing exercise. I have no connection or relationship to the Duffers or Stranger things. I'm just fooling around)

#eddie munson #eddie my beloved #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson headcannon #ask eddie

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dracula-today · 7 months

Text

Dracula: September 26 - Jonathan and Mina have a nice quiet dinner, while the boys go sneaking into cemeteries

Jonathan Harker's Journal.

26 September.—I thought never to write in this diary again, but the time has come. When I got home last night Mina had supper ready, and when we had supped she told me of Van Helsing's visit, and of her having given him the two diaries copied out, and of how anxious she has been about me. She showed me in the doctor's letter that all I wrote down was true. It seems to have made a new man of me. It was the doubt as to the reality of the whole thing that knocked me over. I felt impotent, and in the dark, and distrustful. But, now that I know, I am not afraid, even of the Count. He has succeeded after all, then, in his design in getting to London, and it was he I saw. He has got younger, and how? Van Helsing is the man to unmask him and hunt him out, if he is anything like what Mina says. We sat late, and talked it all over. Mina is dressing, and I shall call at the hotel in a few minutes and bring him over....

He was, I think, surprised to see me. When I came into the room where he was, and introduced myself, he took me by the shoulder, and turned my face round to the light, and said, after a sharp scrutiny:—

"But Madam Mina told me you were ill, that you had had a shock." It was so funny to hear my wife called "Madam Mina" by this kindly, strong-faced old man. I smiled, and said:—

"I was ill, I have had a shock; but you have cured me already."

"And how?"

"By your letter to Mina last night. I was in doubt, and then everything took a hue of unreality, and I did not know what to trust, even the evidence of my own senses. Not knowing what to trust, I did not know what to do; and so had only to keep on working in what had hitherto been the groove of my life. The groove ceased to avail me, and I mistrusted myself. Doctor, you don't know what it is to doubt everything, even yourself. No, you don't; you couldn't with eyebrows like yours." He seemed pleased, and laughed as he said:—

"So! You are physiognomist. I learn more here with each hour. I am with so much pleasure coming to you to breakfast; and, oh, sir, you will pardon praise from an old man, but you are blessed in your wife." I would listen to him go on praising Mina for a day, so I simply nodded and stood silent.

"She is one of God's women, fashioned by His own hand to show us men and other women that there is a heaven where we can enter, and that its light can be here on earth. So true, so sweet, so noble, so little an egoist—and that, let me tell you, is much in this age, so sceptical and selfish. And you, sir—I have read all the letters to poor Miss Lucy, and some of them speak of you, so I know you since some days from the knowing of others; but I have seen your true self since last night. You will give me your hand, will you not? And let us be friends for all our lives."

We shook hands, and he was so earnest and so kind that it made me quite choky.

"And now," he said, "may I ask you for some more help? I have a great task to do, and at the beginning it is to know. You can help me here. Can you tell me what went before your going to Transylvania? Later on I may ask more help, and of a different kind; but at first this will do."

"Look here, sir," I said, "does what you have to do concern the Count?"

"It does," he said solemnly.

"Then I am with you heart and soul. As you go by the 10:30 train, you will not have time to read them; but I shall get the bundle of papers. You can take them with you and read them in the train."

After breakfast I saw him to the station. When we were parting he said:—

"Perhaps you will come to town if I send to you, and take Madam Mina too."

"We shall both come when you will," I said.

I had got him the morning papers and the London papers of the previous night, and while we were talking at the carriage window, waiting for the train to start, he was turning them over. His eyes suddenly seemed to catch something in one of them, "The Westminster Gazette"—I knew it by the colour—and he grew quite white. He read something intently, groaning to himself: "Mein Gott! Mein Gott! So soon! so soon!" I do not think he remembered me at the moment. Just then the whistle blew, and the train moved off. This recalled him to himself, and he leaned out of the window and waved his hand, calling out: "Love to Madam Mina; I shall write so soon as ever I can."

Dr. Seward's Diary.

26 September.—Truly there is no such thing as finality. Not a week since I said "Finis," and yet here I am starting fresh again, or rather going on with the same record. Until this afternoon I had no cause to think of what is done. Renfield had become, to all intents, as sane as he ever was. He was already well ahead with his fly business; and he had just started in the spider line also; so he had not been of any trouble to me. I had a letter from Arthur, written on Sunday, and from it I gather that he is bearing up wonderfully well. Quincey Morris is with him, and that is much of a help, for he himself is a bubbling well of good spirits. Quincey wrote me a line too, and from him I hear that Arthur is beginning to recover something of his old buoyancy; so as to them all my mind is at rest. As for myself, I was settling down to my work with the enthusiasm which I used to have for it, so that I might fairly have said that the wound which poor Lucy left on me was becoming cicatrised. Everything is, however, now reopened; and what is to be the end God only knows. I have an idea that Van Helsing thinks he knows, too, but he will only let out enough at a time to whet curiosity. He went to Exeter yesterday, and stayed there all night. To-day he came back, and almost bounded into the room at about half-past five o'clock, and thrust last night's "Westminster Gazette" into my hand.

"What do you think of that?" he asked as he stood back and folded his arms.

I looked over the paper, for I really did not know what he meant; but he took it from me and pointed out a paragraph about children being decoyed away at Hampstead. It did not convey much to me, until I reached a passage where it described small punctured wounds on their throats. An idea struck me, and I looked up. "Well?" he said.

"It is like poor Lucy's."

"And what do you make of it?"

"Simply that there is some cause in common. Whatever it was that injured her has injured them." I did not quite understand his answer:—

"That is true indirectly, but not directly."

"How do you mean, Professor?" I asked. I was a little inclined to take his seriousness lightly—for, after all, four days of rest and freedom from burning, harrowing anxiety does help to restore one's spirits—but when I saw his face, it sobered me. Never, even in the midst of our despair about poor Lucy, had he looked more stern.

"Tell me!" I said. "I can hazard no opinion. I do not know what to think, and I have no data on which to found a conjecture."

"Do you mean to tell me, friend John, that you have no suspicion as to what poor Lucy died of; not after all the hints given, not only by events, but by me?"

"Of nervous prostration following on great loss or waste of blood."

"And how the blood lost or waste?" I shook my head. He stepped over and sat down beside me, and went on:—

"You are clever man, friend John; you reason well, and your wit is bold; but you are too prejudiced. You do not let your eyes see nor your ears hear, and that which is outside your daily life is not of account to you. Do you not think that there are things which you cannot understand, and yet which are; that some people see things that others cannot? But there are things old and new which must not be contemplate by men's eyes, because they know—or think they know—some things which other men have told them. Ah, it is the fault of our science that it wants to explain all; and if it explain not, then it says there is nothing to explain. But yet we see around us every day the growth of new beliefs, which think themselves new; and which are yet but the old, which pretend to be young—like the fine ladies at the opera. I suppose now you do not believe in corporeal transference. No? Nor in materialisation. No? Nor in astral bodies. No? Nor in the reading of thought. No? Nor in hypnotism——"

"Yes," I said. "Charcot has proved that pretty well." He smiled as he went on: "Then you are satisfied as to it. Yes? And of course then you understand how it act, and can follow the mind of the great Charcot—alas that he is no more!—into the very soul of the patient that he influence. No? Then, friend John, am I to take it that you simply accept fact, and are satisfied to let from premise to conclusion be a blank? No? Then tell me—for I am student of the brain—how you accept the hypnotism and reject the thought reading. Let me tell you, my friend, that there are things done to-day in electrical science which would have been deemed unholy by the very men who discovered electricity—who would themselves not so long before have been burned as wizards. There are always mysteries in life. Why was it that Methuselah lived nine hundred years, and 'Old Parr' one hundred and sixty-nine, and yet that poor Lucy, with four men's blood in her poor veins, could not live even one day? For, had she live one more day, we could have save her. Do you know all the mystery of life and death? Do you know the altogether of comparative anatomy and can say wherefore the qualities of brutes are in some men, and not in others? Can you tell me why, when other spiders die small and soon, that one great spider lived for centuries in the tower of the old Spanish church and grew and grew, till, on descending, he could drink the oil of all the church lamps? Can you tell me why in the Pampas, ay and elsewhere, there are bats that come at night and open the veins of cattle and horses and suck dry their veins; how in some islands of the Western seas there are bats which hang on the trees all day, and those who have seen describe as like giant nuts or pods, and that when the sailors sleep on the deck, because that it is hot, flit down on them, and then—and then in the morning are found dead men, white as even Miss Lucy was?"

"Good God, Professor!" I said, starting up. "Do you mean to tell me that Lucy was bitten by such a bat; and that such a thing is here in London in the nineteenth century?" He waved his hand for silence, and went on:—

"Can you tell me why the tortoise lives more long than generations of men; why the elephant goes on and on till he have seen dynasties; and why the parrot never die only of bite of cat or dog or other complaint? Can you tell me why men believe in all ages and places that there are some few who live on always if they be permit; that there are men and women who cannot die? We all know—because science has vouched for the fact—that there have been toads shut up in rocks for thousands of years, shut in one so small hole that only hold him since the youth of the world. Can you tell me how the Indian fakir can make himself to die and have been buried, and his grave sealed and corn sowed on it, and the corn reaped and be cut and sown and reaped and cut again, and then men come and take away the unbroken seal and that there lie the Indian fakir, not dead, but that rise up and walk amongst them as before?" Here I interrupted him. I was getting bewildered; he so crowded on my mind his list of nature's eccentricities and possible impossibilities that my imagination was getting fired. I had a dim idea that he was teaching me some lesson, as long ago he used to do in his study at Amsterdam; but he used then to tell me the thing, so that I could have the object of thought in mind all the time. But now I was without this help, yet I wanted to follow him, so I said:—

"Professor, let me be your pet student again. Tell me the thesis, so that I may apply your knowledge as you go on. At present I am going in my mind from point to point as a mad man, and not a sane one, follows an idea. I feel like a novice lumbering through a bog in a mist, jumping from one tussock to another in the mere blind effort to move on without knowing where I am going."

"That is good image," he said. "Well, I shall tell you. My thesis is this: I want you to believe."

"To believe what?"

"To believe in things that you cannot. Let me illustrate. I heard once of an American who so defined faith: 'that faculty which enables us to believe things which we know to be untrue.' For one, I follow that man. He meant that we shall have an open mind, and not let a little bit of truth check the rush of a big truth, like a small rock does a railway truck. We get the small truth first. Good! We keep him, and we value him; but all the same we must not let him think himself all the truth in the universe."

"Then you want me not to let some previous conviction injure the receptivity of my mind with regard to some strange matter. Do I read your lesson aright?"

"Ah, you are my favourite pupil still. It is worth to teach you. Now that you are willing to understand, you have taken the first step to understand. You think then that those so small holes in the children's throats were made by the same that made the hole in Miss Lucy?"

"I suppose so." He stood up and said solemnly:—

"Then you are wrong. Oh, would it were so! but alas! no. It is worse, far, far worse."

"In God's name, Professor Van Helsing, what do you mean?" I cried.

He threw himself with a despairing gesture into a chair, and placed his elbows on the table, covering his face with his hands as he spoke:—

"They were made by Miss Lucy!"

DR. SEWARD'S DIARY—continued.

For a while sheer anger mastered me; it was as if he had during her life struck Lucy on the face. I smote the table hard and rose up as I said to him:—

"Dr. Van Helsing, are you mad?" He raised his head and looked at me, and somehow the tenderness of his face calmed me at once. "Would I were!" he said. "Madness were easy to bear compared with truth like this. Oh, my friend, why, think you, did I go so far round, why take so long to tell you so simple a thing? Was it because I hate you and have hated you all my life? Was it because I wished to give you pain? Was it that I wanted, now so late, revenge for that time when you saved my life, and from a fearful death? Ah no!"

"Forgive me," said I. He went on:—

"My friend, it was because I wished to be gentle in the breaking to you, for I know you have loved that so sweet lady. But even yet I do not expect you to believe. It is so hard to accept at once any abstract truth, that we may doubt such to be possible when we have always believed the 'no' of it; it is more hard still to accept so sad a concrete truth, and of such a one as Miss Lucy. To-night I go to prove it. Dare you come with me?"

This staggered me. A man does not like to prove such a truth; Byron excepted from the category, jealousy.

"And prove the very truth he most abhorred."

He saw my hesitation, and spoke:—

"The logic is simple, no madman's logic this time, jumping from tussock to tussock in a misty bog. If it be not true, then proof will be relief; at worst it will not harm. If it be true! Ah, there is the dread; yet very dread should help my cause, for in it is some need of belief. Come, I tell you what I propose: first, that we go off now and see that child in the hospital. Dr. Vincent, of the North Hospital, where the papers say the child is, is friend of mine, and I think of yours since you were in class at Amsterdam. He will let two scientists see his case, if he will not let two friends. We shall tell him nothing, but only that we wish to learn. And then——"

"And then?" He took a key from his pocket and held it up. "And then we spend the night, you and I, in the churchyard where Lucy lies. This is the key that lock the tomb. I had it from the coffin-man to give to Arthur." My heart sank within me, for I felt that there was some fearful ordeal before us. I could do nothing, however, so I plucked up what heart I could and said that we had better hasten, as the afternoon was passing....

We found the child awake. It had had a sleep and taken some food, and altogether was going on well. Dr. Vincent took the bandage from its throat, and showed us the punctures. There was no mistaking the similarity to those which had been on Lucy's throat. They were smaller, and the edges looked fresher; that was all. We asked Vincent to what he attributed them, and he replied that it must have been a bite of some animal, perhaps a rat; but, for his own part, he was inclined to think that it was one of the bats which are so numerous on the northern heights of London. "Out of so many harmless ones," he said, "there may be some wild specimen from the South of a more malignant species. Some sailor may have brought one home, and it managed to escape; or even from the Zoölogical Gardens a young one may have got loose, or one be bred there from a vampire. These things do occur, you know. Only ten days ago a wolf got out, and was, I believe, traced up in this direction. For a week after, the children were playing nothing but Red Riding Hood on the Heath and in every alley in the place until this 'bloofer lady' scare came along, since when it has been quite a gala-time with them. Even this poor little mite, when he woke up to-day, asked the nurse if he might go away. When she asked him why he wanted to go, he said he wanted to play with the 'bloofer lady.'"

"I hope," said Van Helsing, "that when you are sending the child home you will caution its parents to keep strict watch over it. These fancies to stray are most dangerous; and if the child were to remain out another night, it would probably be fatal. But in any case I suppose you will not let it away for some days?"

"Certainly not, not for a week at least; longer if the wound is not healed."

Our visit to the hospital took more time than we had reckoned on, and the sun had dipped before we came out. When Van Helsing saw how dark it was, he said:—

"There is no hurry. It is more late than I thought. Come, let us seek somewhere that we may eat, and then we shall go on our way."

We dined at "Jack Straw's Castle" along with a little crowd of bicyclists and others who were genially noisy. About ten o'clock we started from the inn. It was then very dark, and the scattered lamps made the darkness greater when we were once outside their individual radius. The Professor had evidently noted the road we were to go, for he went on unhesitatingly; but, as for me, I was in quite a mixup as to locality. As we went further, we met fewer and fewer people, till at last we were somewhat surprised when we met even the patrol of horse police going their usual suburban round. At last we reached the wall of the churchyard, which we climbed over. With some little difficulty—for it was very dark, and the whole place seemed so strange to us—we found the Westenra tomb. The Professor took the key, opened the creaky door, and standing back, politely, but quite unconsciously, motioned me to precede him. There was a delicious irony in the offer, in the courtliness of giving preference on such a ghastly occasion. My companion followed me quickly, and cautiously drew the door to, after carefully ascertaining that the lock was a falling, and not a spring, one. In the latter case we should have been in a bad plight. Then he fumbled in his bag, and taking out a matchbox and a piece of candle, proceeded to make a light. The tomb in the day-time, and when wreathed with fresh flowers, had looked grim and gruesome enough; but now, some days afterwards, when the flowers hung lank and dead, their whites turning to rust and their greens to browns; when the spider and the beetle had resumed their accustomed dominance; when time-discoloured stone, and dust-encrusted mortar, and rusty, dank iron, and tarnished brass, and clouded silver-plating gave back the feeble glimmer of a candle, the effect was more miserable and sordid than could have been imagined. It conveyed irresistibly the idea that life—animal life—was not the only thing which could pass away.

Van Helsing went about his work systematically. Holding his candle so that he could read the coffin plates, and so holding it that the sperm dropped in white patches which congealed as they touched the metal, he made assurance of Lucy's coffin. Another search in his bag, and he took out a turnscrew.

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

"To open the coffin. You shall yet be convinced." Straightway he began taking out the screws, and finally lifted off the lid, showing the casing of lead beneath. The sight was almost too much for me. It seemed to be as much an affront to the dead as it would have been to have stripped off her clothing in her sleep whilst living; I actually took hold of his hand to stop him. He only said: "You shall see," and again fumbling in his bag, took out a tiny fret-saw. Striking the turnscrew through the lead with a swift downward stab, which made me wince, he made a small hole, which was, however, big enough to admit the point of the saw. I had expected a rush of gas from the week-old corpse. We doctors, who have had to study our dangers, have to become accustomed to such things, and I drew back towards the door. But the Professor never stopped for a moment; he sawed down a couple of feet along one side of the lead coffin, and then across, and down the other side. Taking the edge of the loose flange, he bent it back towards the foot of the coffin, and holding up the candle into the aperture, motioned to me to look.

I drew near and looked. The coffin was empty.

It was certainly a surprise to me, and gave me a considerable shock, but Van Helsing was unmoved. He was now more sure than ever of his ground, and so emboldened to proceed in his task. "Are you satisfied now, friend John?" he asked.

I felt all the dogged argumentativeness of my nature awake within me as I answered him:—

"I am satisfied that Lucy's body is not in that coffin; but that only proves one thing."

"And what is that, friend John?"

"That it is not there."

"That is good logic," he said, "so far as it goes. But how do you—how can you—account for it not being there?"

"Perhaps a body-snatcher," I suggested. "Some of the undertaker's people may have stolen it." I felt that I was speaking folly, and yet it was the only real cause which I could suggest. The Professor sighed. "Ah well!" he said, "we must have more proof. Come with me."

He put on the coffin-lid again, gathered up all his things and placed them in the bag, blew out the light, and placed the candle also in the bag. We opened the door, and went out. Behind us he closed the door and locked it. He handed me the key, saying: "Will you keep it? You had better be assured." I laughed—it was not a very cheerful laugh, I am bound to say—as I motioned him to keep it. "A key is nothing," I said; "there may be duplicates; and anyhow it is not difficult to pick a lock of that kind." He said nothing, but put the key in his pocket. Then he told me to watch at one side of the churchyard whilst he would watch at the other. I took up my place behind a yew-tree, and I saw his dark figure move until the intervening headstones and trees hid it from my sight.

It was a lonely vigil. Just after I had taken my place I heard a distant clock strike twelve, and in time came one and two. I was chilled and unnerved, and angry with the Professor for taking me on such an errand and with myself for coming. I was too cold and too sleepy to be keenly observant, and not sleepy enough to betray my trust so altogether I had a dreary, miserable time.

Suddenly, as I turned round, I thought I saw something like a white streak, moving between two dark yew-trees at the side of the churchyard farthest from the tomb; at the same time a dark mass moved from the Professor's side of the ground, and hurriedly went towards it. Then I too moved; but I had to go round headstones and railed-off tombs, and I stumbled over graves. The sky was overcast, and somewhere far off an early cock crew. A little way off, beyond a line of scattered juniper-trees, which marked the pathway to the church, a white, dim figure flitted in the direction of the tomb. The tomb itself was hidden by trees, and I could not see where the figure disappeared. I heard the rustle of actual movement where I had first seen the white figure, and coming over, found the Professor holding in his arms a tiny child. When he saw me he held it out to me, and said:—

"Are you satisfied now?"

"No," I said, in a way that I felt was aggressive.

"Do you not see the child?"

"Yes, it is a child, but who brought it here? And is it wounded?" I asked.

"We shall see," said the Professor, and with one impulse we took our way out of the churchyard, he carrying the sleeping child.

When we had got some little distance away, we went into a clump of trees, and struck a match, and looked at the child's throat. It was without a scratch or scar of any kind.

"Was I right?" I asked triumphantly.

"We were just in time," said the Professor thankfully.

We had now to decide what we were to do with the child, and so consulted about it. If we were to take it to a police-station we should have to give some account of our movements during the night; at least, we should have had to make some statement as to how we had come to find the child. So finally we decided that we would take it to the Heath, and when we heard a policeman coming, would leave it where he could not fail to find it; we would then seek our way home as quickly as we could. All fell out well. At the edge of Hampstead Heath we heard a policeman's heavy tramp, and laying the child on the pathway, we waited and watched until he saw it as he flashed his lantern to and fro. We heard his exclamation of astonishment, and then we went away silently. By good chance we got a cab near the "Spaniards," and drove to town.

I cannot sleep, so I make this entry. But I must try to get a few hours' sleep, as Van Helsing is to call for me at noon. He insists that I shall go with him on another expedition.

----

Original Substack Post

#dracula daily #dracula

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boinin · 7 months

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WIP game

tagged by @redrocketpanda 💜 thank you! you can check out their post here

Rules: In a new post, show the last lines you wrote and tag as many people as there are words you like.

I also have an abundance of fanfiction WIPs 🫠 They'll get done... eventually. Though each are at different levels of completion, I plan to share most of these someday.

Cassis Orange (Kunigiri longfic)* - read here

The sense of triumph is fleeting. It sizzles through Chigiri like acid, leaving only emptiness.

Blue Lock genderbend oneshot (feat. all your faves as girls)

“This changes nothing, Isagi,” he growls, though it's closer to a purr in Barou’s higher register. “I'm still going to devour you, inch by inch, until I can—”

“—Good morning, unpolished gems.”

PXG stratum oneshot (Otoya's POV)

The halls of the unfamiliar stratum are quiet, but the layout resembles his current quarters. Whenever he passes a camera, sleek black domes adhered to the ceilings and walls, he puts a finger to his lips.

He's starting to think that he's being punked.

Untitled Ubers oneshot (feat. Aiku!)

He ate, drank, slept soccer in his adolescence. He knew from a young age that he wanted to play for a living, but never envisioned it going this well. At home, he was run-of-the-mill, no taller than the average kid. In Tokyo, he was the bulkiest defender in the under-18s circuit.

Kunigiri Soulmate oneshot

“Exactly what I want to hear,” Kunigami smiles, squeezing his hand. And though they're barely more than strangers, in a dystopian situation of win or die, Chigiri knows the two of them will make it through.

It's destiny, after all.

Dark post-Ubers match oneshot (Kunigiri focus)

[Chigiri's] eyes find Kunigami’s and linger. As Isagi goes to squeeze Bachira’s shoulder, then begins firing question after question at his two friends, an entire conversation takes place beyond words.

I’ve been stupid. I'm sorry.

You should be. But you’re here now. That matters more.

Halloweek fic 1 (Kunigiri) - check out @bluelockhalloweek for the prompts!

“So show me,” Chigiri breathes, wind whispering through the trees.

So Kunigami does, until the glowing embers of the fire become ash, and the horizon shifts from dark blue to azure.

Halloweek fic 2 (Gen fic)

The film turns out predictable, but Rin isn't overly disappointed. It’s the director’s tight pacing and creation of atmosphere that he was invested in. But not everyone present is a hard-bitten horror veteran like him and Hiori.

And for the hell of it... here's the latest lines from a rewrite of my OC fantasy novel:

“You know Polly’s having a get-together tonight?”

“I—I do.”

There was no point lying—not when my oldest friend was his ex, and the two of them hung out on the regular. She must have put him up to this. The dull heat needling my spine prickled further, sensing an obstacle.

“And you knew about the last four she’s had,” he continued, the corners of his lips tightening, turning his expression rogueish. “She’s starting to wonder if you’re avoiding her.”

“I—I promised I’d catch up with her,” I replied, the notion of freedom slipping further from my grasp. Mikey stepped forward. As if to taunt me, behind him, the moon bloomed, waxing and startling in its brightness.

*Chp 8 of Cassis Orange's last line is spoilery, so you get a scene ending instead.

Whew! These were fun to read through, at least for me 🤭 No obligation tagging for @witch-from-a-block-of-flats @choki-the-rich-cactus @gachagon and @variabels.

Anyone else who likes the look of this, please go ahead! People who write always have a trove full of half-written things that they want to show off, but can't because they're unfinished. Here's an excuse to share at last!

#tldr: lots of projects not enough time to work on them all #but cassis orange takes priority! I finally have scope today to look at the latest chapter #tried to tag folks who i've seen writing/WIP posts from #tag game #writing #fanfiction #ao3 #blue lock #mine #long post

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littlewomenpodcast · 9 months

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youtube

Niina: It was really confusing once you have Jo saying that she wants to be alone, then she is lonely. Then she says that she is in love with Friedrich and then she suddenly wants Laurie back. I had no idea what was going on. What was going on in Jo’s head?

Melodie: It’s like they wanted to take a story, that just is this beautiful story that has a lot of heart and turn it into something artsy. That is not what the story is. It just didn’t work. I know you agree. The whole idea behind it didn’t work.

Niina: I just like to complain about it.

Melodie: I always try to remind myself that with things like this, I didn’t like it but there is someone who did. so maybe that film was for them and maybe that film will then be the gateway to them to watch the one that will actually be better or maybe to read more of the books or any of the books because, I mean there are Little Women fans who have not read the books, who just like watching the movies. We have some people like that in the book club. All they are interested in are the movies. I understand that. There are some real books that I haven’t read but I have seen the movies but for the most part, if there is a movie that I think is good, I try to read the book first but if I don’t then I read the book later, but I am also a big bookworm.

Laurie was a young lover, but he was in earnest and meant to ‘have it out, if he died in the attempt, so he plunged into the subject with characteristic impetuosity, saying in a voice that would get choky now and then, in spite of manful efforts to keep it steady…

“I’ve loved you ever since I’ve known you, Jo, couldn’t help it, you’ve been so good to me. I’ve tried to show it, but you wouldn’t let me. Now I’m going to make you hear, and give me an answer, for I can’t go on so any longer.”

“I wanted to save you this. I thought you’d understand…” began Jo, finding it a great deal harder than she expected.

“I know you did, but the girls are so queer you never know what they mean. They say no when they mean yes, and drive a man out of his wits just for the fun of it,” returned Laurie, entrenching himself behind an undeniable fact.

Melodie: When I read this the other day, this made me mad.

Niina: I have a red flag drawn to this part.

Melodie: Yes! It is such a red flag and you know I’m like I didn’t realize that this notion that when women say no, they mean yes, that it was such an old idea and the fact that it says he was trenching himself behind an undeniable fact. How is that an undeniable fact? I don’t know a single woman, who says no when they mean yes. If he knew Jo, he’d know that is not how she is either. That is why he keeps going.

Niina: and it’s like that scene in Vienna when he doesn’t seem to know Jo at all when he tries to put her into the opera and after that, he realizes ”well…Jo would not really fit into an opera”.

#littlewomen #littlewomenpodcast #amymarch #laurielawrence #antijoxlaurie #amyxlaurie #jomarch #Youtube

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enassbraid · 10 months

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“𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮!”

-> Blue Lock boys introducing you to…

Ft. Seishiro Nagi, Hyoma Chigiri, Meguru Bachira, and Reo Mikage

Fluff & crack, slight cursing, very slight episode nagi spoilers, chigiri’s sister calls reader pretty and bachira’s mom calls reader stunning, reader is an art enthusiast in bachira’s part, gf helped me with reo’s part

⁀�� Seishiro Nagi -> his cactus

When Nagi told you there was something he wanted you to meet, you weren’t sure what to expect. The way he phrased “something” made you wonder if he had a pet you’d never heard about, though he never struck you as the type of guy to refer to animals as “things.”

So when you follow him into his bedroom, you’re already searching for a fluffy creature, glass tank, or fish bowl. Of course, none of those were present.

“What was it you wanted to introduce me to again? I don’t see any animals in here…” You asked curiously.

“Animals? No… too much to take care of, such a bother.” He responded, poking around his window sill.

“Then what did you want me to meet…?” At this point, you were a little worried. If he pulled out a video game console and told you to say ‘hi’, you might have just left.

“This.” He quit looking around his window sill and lifted a… plant?

“A cactus?”

“It’s name is Choki.”

“You gave the damn cactus a name!?”

You were relieved it was something relatively normal, but a cactus with a name still threw you off guard. You never took Nagi as the type of guy to enjoy plants. After all, he doesn’t go outside unless it’s for you, Reo, or the arcade. And plants are typically an outdoor thing.

“It’s only a few months old, I got it before I met you and Reo. I didn’t talk to anyone and didn’t wanna be a threat to society, and animals are too much of a hassle to take care of. And then I got Choki.” He recalled the events vaguely, leaving out the part where he felt a little lonely.

“That’s actually… oddly sweet. Good job, Nagi!” You cheered.

“What job…? I only have to water it once every few weeks…”

“Well if you don’t want the praise- nice work, Choki! You kept this lazy guy from being a threat to society for months! It’s all thanks to you that-“

“It can’t hear you.” Nagi cut you off.

“But it can hear you?” You scoffed sarcastically.

“That’s different.”

“How?!”

⁀➷ Hyoma Chigiri -> his sister

By Chigiri’s appearance alone, anyone could tell he had inherited the good looks in his family. But what most people didn’t know was that he had a sister, a sister that also inherited good looks.

He didn’t bring family up in conversation. Not because he disliked the topic, but because he didn’t think it was anyone else’s business when it came to his. If you weren’t his s/o, he probably wouldn’t have told you about having a sister.

“Do you think I could meet her sometime? If that’s okay with you, that is.” You asked enthusiastically, but tried to stay polite. Chigiri never liked it when people pried into his personal life.

“Well… if you really want to, you could probably meet her tonight. But you’d have to come over for dinner, is that okay with you?” Chigiri asked, not wanting to put you in any uncomfortable situation.

“Of course! Should we go now?” You smiled brightly at the pink haired boy, making him grin in return.

“Dinner might not be done yet- but we could head over now.” He agreed.

The whole way to your boyfriend’s place, you wondered what his sister was like. Was she nice? Was she older or younger? Did she have a significant other that came by the Chigiri household regularly?

“We’re here.” Your boyfriend stopped your racing thoughts. “If you’re worried about what she’ll think, don’t. She’ll like you, trust me.” He reassured, putting your mind at ease.

As he opened the door, you could immediately tell dinner was already being cooked just by the smell. It smelt so… good.

“I’m home! Sis, I’ve got someone you might wanna meet!” Chigiri called out, taking his shoes off in the process and hanging up his bag, signaling you yo do the same. “Make yourself at home.” He whispered.

“Oh, who is it, Hyoma? Is it that girl you’re always on the phone with in the middle of the night?” You heard a feminine voice from around the corner.

You froze up a little, realizing you really were about to meet your boyfriend’s family. Turning the corner, you were met with a tall lady that shared very similar features to your Chigiri.

“Um… hi- hello! I’m Hyoma’s-“

“This is my s/o (Name), sis. Can they stay for dinner?” He accidentally cut you off.

“Hyoma! Don’t cut the poor thing off, that’s rude. Go on sweetie, you can finish your sentence.” She said sweetly. You felt your cheeks heat up at her kind gesture, you weren’t expecting her to be this nice.

“Right- I’m (Name), Hyoma’s… s/o. It’s nice to finally meet you!” You shook the hand she put out for you, and all Chigiri could do was smile as he watched two of his most precious people get along so well.

“Such a pretty name for a pretty face. Hyoma, you really scored with (Name) here!” She giggled.

You became flustered, while Chigiri only chuckled. His sister left to continue dinner, leaving you and your boyfriend alone again.

“I told you she’d like you.”

⁀➷ Meguru Bachira -> his mom

Bachira only cares about four things. You, soccer, his monster, and his mother. His mother was the first thing he could ever recall caring about, way before he met his monster and soccer.

After all, his mom was the first person to care about him as well.

When you met Bachira for the first time, he was alone against a wall with a soccer ball next to him. All of your classmates thought he was weird, and advised each other to stay away from him. He was outcasted, but you were just an outcast. If you really wanted to you probably could get into a friend group, but you didn’t mind not having one.

“Did you get lost?” He asked suddenly.

“Uh, not really. I was just taking a different route. Why ask?” You replied.

“Not many people take this way, it’s why I’m here.” He said.

Something in you told you to keep walking, but another part of you told you to stay. You couldn’t have been more grateful for the part that told you to stay, otherwise Bachira wouldn’t be your boyfriend today.

Boyfriend of merely a month, that is. You were surprised he hadn’t asked you during the first week if you wanted to meet his mother, as he had put such a great emphasis on how important she is in his life.

“You mean you really want me to meet her?” You asked in awe.

“Of course I do, as long as you wanna meet her!” He grinned widely, excited to introduce you to his mother.

You’d talked about enjoying art with him, and that was the first time he brought his mother up. When he told you she was a painter, you were awestruck.

“I do wanna meet her? When can I? Soon? Later?” You asked enthusiastically.

“Right now!” He exclaimed, grabbing your hand and leading you to his place. It was sudden, yet exhilarating.

He opened the door, and you were immediately enamored with the murals on the wall. You didn’t have to ask to know it was Bachira’s mother who painted these.

They were beautiful.

“Are you ready?” He double checked with you, making sure you were comfortable and not too nervous. Which of course, you were a little nervous. This was your boyfriend’s mother, making a good impression was a must. But that nervousness was outweighed by your enthusiasm for art and meeting a professional artist.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Do you want me to wait out here?” You asked.

“You can just follow me in,” he whispered. “I think she’ll be happy to meet you sooner than later.” He said before opening the studio’s door.

Your nose was hit with the strong smell of paint and wood, clearing your mind.

“Mom, I’m home. I brought someone for you to meet as well!” He stepped aside, letting you stand next to him in the doorway.

“Oh my, is this who I think it is?” She asked. Her brown hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail with strands sticking out, and there were some pain stains on her face. Yet despite that, she still looked beautiful.

“Hi! I’m (Name), Meguru’s lover. It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss!” You introduced yourself politely, all whole taking in the room and scenario you were in right now. It all felt too good to be true.

“Oh I’ve heard so much about you from my boy! You’re just as stunning as he said you were, It’s so nice to finally meet you!” She enthusiastically shook your hand. You could already tell where your boyfriend got his personality from.

You’d asked her about the type of art she makes, and she happily showed you some of her paintings and art tools. Meanwhile, Bachira stood behind the two of you beaming with joy. He thought nothing could make him happier than you and soccer, but that’s not the only thing anymore.

He thinks there’s nothing that makes him happier than watching the two people who showed him unconditional love for as long as he’s known them get along so well.

⁀➷ Reo Mikage -> his peers

For as long as Reo could remember, he’s always been popular. I mean, why wouldn’t he be? He has a well known family, money, good looks, and brains. Reo was the epitome of everything that could make someone popular.

With popularity came fangirls, and with fangirls came regular confessions. Not only that, there were plenty of guys who wanted to he his friend for some extra cash. Reo was well aware of his peer’s ulterior motives behind their actions, and yet he never cared much.

And even when he met you, began dating you, he still didn’t care much. But sometimes his fangirls and friends were just so… annoying.

“I heard that Reo has a s/o now, can you believe it?” Someone said from behind his locker.

“Well it’s believable, it’s Reo fucking Mikage after all! Everybody wants him in one way or another. I just think it’s sudden, he never seemed to care much about dating.” They’re friend said with a giggle.

Reo merely rolled his eyes. If there was one thing he’s always minded about his status, it’d be the way everyone thought they knew him so well. Even people he’s never spoken to— like those girls behind his locker— tried so hard to act like they knew him.

It was annoying.

As if on cue, he felt a hand on both his shoulders. “Boo!” You whispered.

“Oh no, I’m too scared to move.” He chuckled, turning around to face you.

“Well you just did, what’s your next excuse gonna be?” You asked sarcastically, stifling laughter.

“Hmm… maybe-“

“Reo! Over here!” A high pitched voice cut him off, much to both of your annoyances.

You and Reo eyed each other with a knowing look, knowing what’s about to go down. He sighed, telling you to come with him for good measure.

Before the girl said anything, she was staring you down with disgust, wondering why Reo wanted you to come with him when she asked for him, not you.

“Excuse me, I said Reo. I don’t recall asking for anyone else to come over here.” She said with a dry sarcastic laugh, the kind that most girls give to their disliked person.

“I told them to come with me, whatever you want from me can’t be too personal if you’re asking for me in the middle of a hallway.”

She rolled her eyes, and turned her head to the girls on the other side of the hall, who were shaking their head in disapproval.

“Okay… but just who is this anyway. I’ve never seen-“

“They’re my lover.” He said sternly, holding your hand to get his point across. “This is my lover, (Name). Surely you’ve heard they’re with me?”

Her eyes widened, eyes moving from you, to Reo, to your intertwined hands. She stood there in shock for a moment, before turning on her heel and storming off.

You and Reo bursted out into laughter once she was gone, you laughing so hard you were clutching your stomach. Reo’s eyes brimmed with tears, neither if you were sure why you found the encounter so humorous, but it would certainly make an entertaining story to tell Nagi.

After that incident, anyone who didn’t know who you were suddenly knew your name the next day.

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hellsitesonlybookclub · 11 months

Text

Little Women, Louisa May Alcott

Chapter 35-36

XXXV.

HEARTACHE.

Whatever his motive might have been, Laurie studied to some purpose that year, for he graduated with honor, and gave the Latin oration with the grace of a Phillips and the eloquence of a Demosthenes, so his friends said. They were all there, his grandfather,—oh, so proud!—Mr. and Mrs. March, John and Meg, Jo and Beth, and all exulted over him with the sincere admiration which boys make light of at the time, but fail to win from the world by any after-triumphs.

"I've got to stay for this confounded supper, but I shall be home early to-morrow; you'll come and meet me as usual, girls?" Laurie said, as he put the sisters into the carriage after the joys of the day were over. He said "girls," but he meant Jo, for she was the only one who kept up the old custom; she had not the heart to refuse her splendid, successful boy anything, and answered warmly,—

436 "I'll come, Teddy, rain or shine, and march before you, playing 'Hail the conquering hero comes,' on a jews-harp."

Laurie thanked her with a look that made her think, in a sudden panic, "Oh, deary me! I know he'll say something, and then what shall I do?"

Evening meditation and morning work somewhat allayed her fears, and having decided that she wouldn't be vain enough to think people were going to propose when she had given them every reason to know what her answer would be, she set forth at the appointed time, hoping Teddy wouldn't do anything to make her hurt his poor little feelings. A call at Meg's, and a refreshing sniff and sip at the Daisy and Demijohn, still further fortified her for the tête-à-tête, but when she saw a stalwart figure looming in the distance, she had a strong desire to turn about and run away.

"Where's the jews-harp, Jo?" cried Laurie, as soon as he was within speaking distance.

"I forgot it;" and Jo took heart again, for that salutation could not be called lover-like.

She always used to take his arm on these occasions; now she did not, and he made no complaint, which was a bad sign, but talked on rapidly about all sorts of far-away subjects, till they turned from the road into the little path that led homeward through the grove. Then he walked more slowly, suddenly lost his fine flow of language, and, now and then, a dreadful pause occurred. To rescue the conversation from one of the wells of silence into which it kept falling, Jo said hastily,—

"Now you must have a good long holiday!"

"I intend to."

Something in his resolute tone made Jo look up quickly to find him looking down at her with an expression that assured her the dreaded moment had come, and made her put out her hand with an imploring,—

"No, Teddy, please don't!"

"I will, and you must hear me. It's no use, Jo; we've got to have it out, and the sooner the better for both of us," he answered, getting flushed and excited all at once.

437 "Say what you like, then; I'll listen," said Jo, with a desperate sort of patience.

Laurie was a young lover, but he was in earnest, and meant to "have it out," if he died in the attempt; so he plunged into the subject with characteristic impetuosity, saying in a voice that would get choky now and then, in spite of manful efforts to keep it steady,—

"I've loved you ever since I've known you, Jo; couldn't help it, you've been so good to me. I've tried to show it, but you wouldn't let me; now I'm going to make you hear, and give me an answer, for I can't go on so any longer."

"I wanted to save you this; I thought you'd understand—" began Jo, finding it a great deal harder than she expected.

"I know you did; but girls are so queer you never know what they mean. They say No when they mean Yes, and drive a man out of his wits just for the fun of it," returned Laurie, entrenching himself behind an undeniable fact.

"I don't. I never wanted to make you care for me so, and I went away to keep you from it if I could."

"I thought so; it was like you, but it was no use. I only loved you all the more, and I worked hard to please you, and I gave up billiards and everything you didn't like, and waited and never complained, for I hoped you'd love me, though I'm not half good enough—" here there was a choke that couldn't be controlled, so he decapitated buttercups while he cleared his "confounded throat."

"Yes, you are; you're a great deal too good for me, and I'm so grateful to you, and so proud and fond of you, I don't see why I can't love you as you want me to. I've tried, but I can't change the feeling, and it would be a lie to say I do when I don't."

"Really, truly, Jo?"

He stopped short, and caught both her hands as he put his question with a look that she did not soon forget.

"Really, truly, dear."

They were in the grove now, close by the stile; and when the last words fell reluctantly from Jo's lips, Laurie dropped her hands and turned as if to go on, but for once in his life that fence was too much for him; so he just laid his head down on the mossy post, and stood so still that Jo was frightened.

438 "O Teddy, I'm so sorry, so desperately sorry, I could kill myself if it would do any good! I wish you wouldn't take it so hard. I can't help it; you know it's impossible for people to make themselves love other people if they don't," cried Jo inelegantly but remorsefully, as she softly patted his shoulder, remembering the time when he had comforted her so long ago.

"They do sometimes," said a muffled voice from the post.

"I don't believe it's the right sort of love, and I'd rather not try it," was the decided answer.

There was a long pause, while a blackbird sung blithely on the willow by the river, and the tall grass rustled in the wind. Presently Jo said very soberly, as she sat down on the step of the stile,—

"Laurie, I want to tell you something."

He started as if he had been shot, threw up his head, and cried out, in a fierce tone—

"Don't tell me that, Jo; I can't bear it now!"

"Tell what?" she asked, wondering at his violence.

439 "That you love that old man."

"What old man?" demanded Jo, thinking he must mean his grandfather.

"That devilish Professor you were always writing about. If you say you love him, I know I shall do something desperate;" and he looked as if he would keep his word, as he clenched his hands, with a wrathful spark in his eyes.

Jo wanted to laugh, but restrained herself, and said warmly, for she, too, was getting excited with all this,—

"Don't swear, Teddy! He isn't old, nor anything bad, but good and kind, and the best friend I've got, next to you. Pray, don't fly into a passion; I want to be kind, but I know I shall get angry if you abuse my Professor. I haven't the least idea of loving him or anybody else."

"But you will after a while, and then what will become of me?"

"You'll love some one else too, like a sensible boy, and forget all this trouble."

"I can't love any one else; and I'll never forget you, Jo, never! never!" with a stamp to emphasize his passionate words.

"What shall I do with him?" sighed Jo, finding that emotions were more unmanageable than she expected. "You haven't heard what I wanted to tell you. Sit down and listen; for indeed I want to do right and make you happy," she said, hoping to soothe him with a little reason, which proved that she knew nothing about love.

Seeing a ray of hope in that last speech, Laurie threw himself down on the grass at her feet, leaned his arm on the lower step of the stile, and looked up at her with an expectant face. Now that arrangement was not conducive to calm speech or clear thought on Jo's part; for how could she say hard things to her boy while he watched her with eyes full of love and longing, and lashes still wet with the bitter drop or two her hardness of heart had wrung from him? She gently turned his head away, saying, as she stroked the wavy hair which had been allowed to grow for her sake,—how touching that was, to be sure!—

"I agree with mother that you and I are not suited to each other, because our quick tempers and strong wills would probably make us 440 very miserable, if we were so foolish as to—" Jo paused a little over the last word, but Laurie uttered it with a rapturous expression,—

"Marry,—no, we shouldn't! If you loved me, Jo, I should be a perfect saint, for you could make me anything you like."

"No, I can't. I've tried it and failed, and I won't risk our happiness by such a serious experiment. We don't agree and we never shall; so we'll be good friends all our lives, but we won't go and do anything rash."

"Yes, we will if we get the chance," muttered Laurie rebelliously.

"Now do be reasonable, and take a sensible view of the case," implored Jo, almost at her wit's end.

"I won't be reasonable; I don't want to take what you call 'a sensible view;' it won't help me, and it only makes you harder. I don't believe you've got any heart."

"I wish I hadn't!"

There was a little quiver in Jo's voice, and, thinking it a good omen, Laurie turned round, bringing all his persuasive powers to bear as he said, in the wheedlesome tone that had never been so dangerously wheedlesome before,—

"Don't disappoint us, dear! Every one expects it. Grandpa has set his heart upon it, your people like it, and I can't get on without you. Say you will, and let's be happy. Do, do!"

Not until months afterward did Jo understand how she had the strength of mind to hold fast to the resolution she had made when she decided that she did not love her boy, and never could. It was very hard to do, but she did it, knowing that delay was both useless and cruel.

"I can't say 'Yes' truly, so I won't say it at all. You'll see that I'm right, by and by, and thank me for it"—she began solemnly.

"I'll be hanged if I do!" and Laurie bounced up off the grass, burning with indignation at the bare idea.

"Yes, you will!" persisted Jo; "you'll get over this after a while, and find some lovely, accomplished girl, who will adore you, and make a fine mistress for your fine house. I shouldn't. I'm homely and awkward and odd and old, and you'd be ashamed of me, and we should quarrel,—we can't help it even now, you see,—and I 441 shouldn't like elegant society and you would, and you'd hate my scribbling, and I couldn't get on without it, and we should be unhappy, and wish we hadn't done it, and everything would be horrid!"

"Anything more?" asked Laurie, finding it hard to listen patiently to this prophetic burst.

"Nothing more, except that I don't believe I shall ever marry. I'm happy as I am, and love my liberty too well to be in any hurry to give it up for any mortal man."

"I know better!" broke in Laurie. "You think so now; but there'll come a time when you will care for somebody, and you'll love him tremendously, and live and die for him. I know you will, it's your way, and I shall have to stand by and see it;" and the despairing lover cast his hat upon the ground with a gesture that would have seemed comical, if his face had not been so tragical.

"Yes, I will live and die for him, if he ever comes and makes me love him in spite of myself, and you must do the best you can!" cried Jo, losing patience with poor Teddy. "I've done my best, but you won't be reasonable, and it's selfish of you to keep teasing for what I can't give. I shall always be fond of you, very fond indeed, as a friend, but I'll never marry you; and the sooner you believe it, the better for both of us,—so now!"

That speech was like fire to gunpowder. Laurie looked at her a minute as if he did not quite know what to do with himself, then turned sharply away, saying, in a desperate sort of tone,—

"You'll be sorry some day, Jo."

"Oh, where are you going?" she cried, for his face frightened her.

"To the devil!" was the consoling answer.

For a minute Jo's heart stood still, as he swung himself down the bank, toward the river; but it takes much folly, sin, or misery to send a young man to a violent death, and Laurie was not one of the weak sort who are conquered by a single failure. He had no thought of a melodramatic plunge, but some blind instinct led him to fling hat and coat into his boat, and row away with all his might, making better time up the river than he had done in many a race. Jo drew a long breath and unclasped her hands as she watched the poor fellow trying to outstrip the trouble which he carried in his heart.

442 "That will do him good, and he'll come home in such a tender, penitent state of mind, that I sha'n't dare to see him," she said; adding, as she went slowly home, feeling as if she had murdered some innocent thing, and buried it under the leaves,—

"Now I must go and prepare Mr. Laurence to be very kind to my poor boy. I wish he'd love Beth; perhaps he may, in time, but I begin to think I was mistaken about her. Oh dear! how can girls like to have lovers and refuse them. I think it's dreadful."

Being sure that no one could do it so well as herself, she went straight to Mr. Laurence, told the hard story bravely through, and then broke down, crying so dismally over her own insensibility that the kind old gentleman, though sorely disappointed, did not utter a reproach. He found it difficult to understand how any girl could help loving Laurie, and hoped she would change her mind, but he knew even better than Jo that love cannot be forced, so he shook his head sadly, and resolved to carry his boy out of harm's way; for Young Impetuosity's parting words to Jo disturbed him more than he would confess.

When Laurie came home, dead tired, but quite composed, his grandfather met him as if he knew nothing, and kept up the delusion very successfully for an hour or two. But when they sat together in the twilight, the time they used to enjoy so much, it was hard work for the old man to ramble on as usual, and harder still for the young one to listen to praises of the last year's success, which to him now seemed love's labor lost. He bore it as long as he could, then went to his piano, and began to play. The windows were open; and Jo, walking in the garden with Beth, for once understood music better than her sister, for he played the "Sonata Pathétique," and played it as he never did before.

"That's very fine, I dare say, but it's sad enough to make one cry; give us something gayer, lad," said Mr. Laurence, whose kind old heart was full of sympathy, which he longed to show, but knew not how.

Laurie dashed into a livelier strain, played stormily for several minutes, and would have got through bravely, if, in a momentary lull, Mrs. March's voice had not been heard calling,—

"Jo, dear, come in; I want you."

443 Just what Laurie longed to say, with a different meaning! As he listened, he lost his place; the music ended with a broken chord, and the musician sat silent in the dark.

"I can't stand this," muttered the old gentleman. Up he got, groped his way to the piano, laid a kind hand on either of the broad shoulders, and said, as gently as a woman,—

"I know, my boy, I know."

No answer for an instant; then Laurie asked sharply,—

"Who told you?"

"Jo herself."

"Then there's an end of it!" and he shook off his grandfather's hands with an impatient motion; for, though grateful for the sympathy, his man's pride could not bear a man's pity.

"Not quite; I want to say one thing, and then there shall be an end of it," returned Mr. Laurence, with unusual mildness. "You won't care to stay at home just now, perhaps?"

"I don't intend to run away from a girl. Jo can't prevent my seeing her, and I shall stay and do it as long as I like," interrupted Laurie, in a defiant tone.

"Not if you are the gentleman I think you. I'm disappointed, but the girl can't help it; and the only thing left for you to do is to go away for a time. Where will you go?"

"Anywhere. I don't care what becomes of me;" and Laurie got up, with a reckless laugh, that grated on his grandfather's ear.

"Take it like a man, and don't do anything rash, for God's sake. Why not go abroad, as you planned, and forget it?"

"I can't."

"But you've been wild to go, and I promised you should when you got through college."

"Ah, but I didn't mean to go alone!" and Laurie walked fast through the room, with an expression which it was well his grandfather did not see.

"I don't ask you to go alone; there's some one ready and glad to go with you, anywhere in the world."

"Who, sir?" stopping to listen.

"Myself."

444 Laurie came back as quickly as he went, and put out his hand, saying huskily,—

"I'm a selfish brute; but—you know—grandfather—"

"Lord help me, yes, I do know, for I've been through it all before, once in my own young days, and then with your father. Now, my dear boy, just sit quietly down, and hear my plan. It's all settled, and can be carried out at once," said Mr. Laurence, keeping hold of the young man, as if fearful that he would break away, as his father had done before him.

"Well, sir, what is it?" and Laurie sat down, without a sign of interest in face or voice.

"There is business in London that needs looking after; I meant you should attend to it; but I can do it better myself, and things here will get on very well with Brooke to manage them. My partners do almost everything; I'm merely holding on till you take my place, and can be off at any time."

"But you hate travelling, sir; I can't ask it of you at your age," began Laurie, who was grateful for the sacrifice, but much preferred to go alone, if he went at all.

The old gentleman knew that perfectly well, and particularly desired to prevent it; for the mood in which he found his grandson assured him that it would not be wise to leave him to his own devices. So, stifling a natural regret at the thought of the home comforts he would leave behind him, he said stoutly,—

"Bless your soul, I'm not superannuated yet. I quite enjoy the idea; it will do me good, and my old bones won't suffer, for travelling nowadays is almost as easy as sitting in a chair."

A restless movement from Laurie suggested that his chair was not easy, or that he did not like the plan, and made the old man add hastily,—

"I don't mean to be a marplot or a burden; I go because I think you'd feel happier than if I was left behind. I don't intend to gad about with you, but leave you free to go where you like, while I amuse myself in my own way. I've friends in London and Paris, and should like to visit them; meantime you can go to Italy, Germany, Switzerland, where you will, and enjoy pictures, music, scenery, and adventures to your heart's content."

445 Now, Laurie felt just then that his heart was entirely broken, and the world a howling wilderness; but at the sound of certain words which the old gentleman artfully introduced into his closing sentence, the broken heart gave an unexpected leap, and a green oasis or two suddenly appeared in the howling wilderness. He sighed, and then said, in a spiritless tone,—

"Just as you like, sir; it doesn't matter where I go or what I do."

"It does to me, remember that, my lad; I give you entire liberty, but I trust you to make an honest use of it. Promise me that, Laurie."

"Anything you like, sir."

"Good," thought the old gentleman. "You don't care now, but there'll come a time when that promise will keep you out of mischief, or I'm much mistaken."

Being an energetic individual, Mr. Laurence struck while the iron was hot; and before the blighted being recovered spirit enough to rebel, they were off. During the time necessary for preparation, Laurie bore himself as young gentlemen usually do in such cases. He was moody, irritable, and pensive by turns; lost his appetite, neglected his dress, and devoted much time to playing tempestuously on his piano; avoided Jo, but consoled himself by staring at her from his window, with a tragical face that haunted her dreams by night, and oppressed her with a heavy sense of guilt by day. Unlike some sufferers, he never spoke of his unrequited passion, and would allow no one, not even Mrs. March, to attempt consolation or offer sympathy. On some accounts, this was a relief to his friends; but the weeks before his departure were very uncomfortable, and every one rejoiced that the "poor, dear fellow was going away to forget his trouble, and come home happy." Of course, he smiled darkly at their delusion, but passed it by, with the sad superiority of one who knew that his fidelity, like his love, was unalterable.

When the parting came he affected high spirits, to conceal certain inconvenient emotions which seemed inclined to assert themselves. This gayety did not impose upon anybody, but they tried to look as if it did, for his sake, and he got on very well till Mrs. March kissed 446 him, with a whisper full of motherly solicitude; then, feeling that he was going very fast, he hastily embraced them all round, not forgetting the afflicted Hannah, and ran downstairs as if for his life. Jo followed a minute after to wave her hand to him if he looked round. He did look round, came back, put his arms about her, as she stood on the step above him, and looked up at her with a face that made his short appeal both eloquent and pathetic.

"O Jo, can't you?"

"Teddy, dear, I wish I could!"

447 That was all, except a little pause; then Laurie straightened himself up, said "It's all right, never mind," and went away without another word. Ah, but it wasn't all right, and Jo did mind; for while the curly head lay on her arm a minute after her hard answer, she felt as if she had stabbed her dearest friend; and when he left her without a look behind him, she knew that the boy Laurie never would come again.

448

XXXVI.

BETH'S SECRET.

When Jo came home that spring, she had been struck with the change in Beth. No one spoke of it or seemed aware of it, for it had come too gradually to startle those who saw her daily; but to eyes sharpened by absence, it was very plain; and a heavy weight fell on Jo's heart as she saw her sister's face. It was no paler and but little thinner than in the autumn; yet there was a strange, transparent look about it, as if the mortal was being slowly refined away, and the immortal shining through the frail flesh with an indescribably pathetic beauty. Jo saw and felt it, but said nothing at the time, and soon the first impression lost much of its power; for Beth seemed happy, no one appeared to doubt that she was better; and, presently, in other cares, Jo for a time forgot her fear.

But when Laurie was gone, and peace prevailed again, the vague anxiety returned and haunted her. She had confessed her sins and been forgiven; but when she showed her savings and proposed the mountain trip, Beth had thanked her heartily, but begged not to go so far away from home. Another little visit to the seashore would suit her better, and, as grandma could not be prevailed upon to leave the babies, Jo took Beth down to the quiet place, where she could live much in the open air, and let the fresh sea-breezes blow a little color into her pale cheeks.

It was not a fashionable place, but, even among the pleasant people there, the girls made few friends, preferring to live for one another. Beth was too shy to enjoy society, and Jo too wrapped up in her to care for any one else; so they were all in all to each other, and came and went, quite unconscious of the interest they excited in those about 449 them, who watched with sympathetic eyes the strong sister and the feeble one, always together, as if they felt instinctively that a long separation was not far away.

They did feel it, yet neither spoke of it; for often between ourselves and those nearest and dearest to us there exists a reserve which it is very hard to overcome. Jo felt as if a veil had fallen between her heart and Beth's; but when she put out her hand to lift it up, there seemed something sacred in the silence, and she waited for Beth to speak. She wondered, and was thankful also, that her parents did not seem to see what she saw; and, during the quiet weeks, when the shadow grew so plain to her, she said nothing of it to those at home, believing that it would tell itself when Beth came back no better. She wondered still more if her sister really guessed the hard truth, and what thoughts were passing through her mind during the long hours when she lay on the warm rocks, with her head in Jo's lap, while the winds blew healthfully over her, and the sea made music at her feet.

One day Beth told her. Jo thought she was asleep, she lay so still; and, putting down her book, sat looking at her with wistful eyes, trying to see signs of hope in the faint color on Beth's cheeks. But she could not find enough to satisfy her, for the cheeks were very thin, and the hands seemed too feeble to hold even the rosy little shells they had been gathering. It came to her then more bitterly than ever that Beth was slowly drifting away from her, and her arms instinctively tightened their hold upon the dearest treasure she possessed. For a minute her eyes were too dim for seeing, and, when they cleared, Beth was looking up at her so tenderly that there was hardly any need for her to say,—

"Jo, dear, I'm glad you know it. I've tried to tell you, but I couldn't."

There was no answer except her sister's cheek against her own, not even tears; for when most deeply moved, Jo did not cry. She was the weaker, then, and Beth tried to comfort and sustain her, with her arms about her, and the soothing words she whispered in her ear.

"I've known it for a good while, dear, and, now I'm used to it, it isn't hard to think of or to bear. Try to see it so, and don't be troubled about me, because it's best; indeed it is."

450 "Is this what made you so unhappy in the autumn, Beth? You did not feel it then, and keep it to yourself so long, did you?" asked Jo, refusing to see or say that it was best, but glad to know that Laurie had no part in Beth's trouble.

"Yes, I gave up hoping then, but I didn't like to own it. I tried to think it was a sick fancy, and would not let it trouble any one. But when I saw you all so well and strong, and full of happy plans, it was hard to feel that I could never be like you, and then I was miserable, Jo."

"O Beth, and you didn't tell me, didn't let me comfort and help you! How could you shut me out, and bear it all alone?"

Jo's voice was full of tender reproach, and her heart ached to think of the solitary struggle that must have gone on while Beth learned to say good-by to health, love, and life, and take up her cross so cheerfully.

"Perhaps it was wrong, but I tried to do right; I wasn't sure, no one said anything, and I hoped I was mistaken. It would have been selfish to frighten you all when Marmee was so anxious about Meg, and Amy away, and you so happy with Laurie,—at least, I thought so then."

"And I thought that you loved him, Beth, and I went away because I couldn't," cried Jo, glad to say all the truth.

Beth looked so amazed at the idea that Jo smiled in spite of her pain, and added softly,—

"Then you didn't, deary? I was afraid it was so, and imagined your poor little heart full of love-lornity all that while."

"Why, Jo, how could I, when he was so fond of you?" asked Beth, as innocently as a child. "I do love him dearly; he is so good to me, how can I help it? But he never could be anything to me but my brother. I hope he truly will be, sometime."

"Not through me," said Jo decidedly. "Amy is left for him, and they would suit excellently; but I have no heart for such things, now. I don't care what becomes of anybody but you, Beth. You must get well."

"I want to, oh, so much! I try, but every day I lose a little, and feel more sure that I shall never gain it back. It's like the tide, Jo, when it turns, it goes slowly, but it can't be stopped."

451 "It shall be stopped, your tide must not turn so soon, nineteen is too young. Beth, I can't let you go. I'll work and pray and fight against it. I'll keep you in spite of everything; there must be ways, it can't be too late. God won't be so cruel as to take you from me," cried poor Jo rebelliously, for her spirit was far less piously submissive than Beth's.

Simple, sincere people seldom speak much of their piety; it shows itself in acts, rather than in words, and has more influence than homilies or protestations. Beth could not reason upon or explain the faith that gave her courage and patience to give up life, and cheerfully wait for death. Like a confiding child, she asked no questions, but left everything to God and nature, Father and mother of us all, feeling sure that they, and they only, could teach and strengthen heart and spirit for this life and the life to come. She did not rebuke Jo with saintly speeches, only loved her better for her passionate affection, and clung more closely to the dear human love, from which our Father never means us to be weaned, but through which He draws us closer to Himself. She could not say, "I'm glad to go," for life was very sweet to her; she could only sob out, "I try to be willing," while she held fast to Jo, as the first bitter wave of this great sorrow broke over them together.

By and by Beth said, with recovered serenity,—

"You'll tell them this when we go home?"

"I think they will see it without words," sighed Jo; for now it seemed to her that Beth changed every day.

"Perhaps not; I've heard that the people who love best are often blindest to such things. If they don't see it, you will tell them for me. I don't want any secrets, and it's kinder to prepare them. Meg has John and the babies to comfort her, but you must stand by father and mother, won't you, Jo?"

"If I can; but, Beth, I don't give up yet; I'm going to believe that it is a sick fancy, and not let you think it's true," said Jo, trying to speak cheerfully.

Beth lay a minute thinking, and then said in her quiet way,—

"I don't know how to express myself, and shouldn't try, to any one but you, because I can't speak out, except to my Jo. I only mean 452 to say that I have a feeling that it never was intended I should live long. I'm not like the rest of you; I never made any plans about what I'd do when I grew up; I never thought of being married, as you all did. I couldn't seem to imagine myself anything but stupid little Beth, trotting about at home, of no use anywhere but there. I never wanted to go away, and the hard part now is the leaving you all. I'm not afraid, but it seems as if I should be homesick for you even in heaven."

Jo could not speak; and for several minutes there was no sound but the sigh of the wind and the lapping of the tide. A white-winged gull flew by, with the flash of sunshine on its silvery breast; Beth watched it till it vanished, and her eyes were full of sadness. A little gray-coated sand-bird came tripping over the beach, "peeping" softly to itself, as if enjoying the sun and sea; it came quite close to Beth, looked at her with a friendly eye, and sat upon a warm stone, dressing its wet feathers, quite at home. Beth smiled, and felt comforted, for the tiny thing seemed to offer its small friendship, and remind her that a pleasant world was still to be enjoyed.

"Dear little bird! See, Jo, how tame it is. I like peeps better than the gulls: they are not so wild and handsome, but they seem happy, confiding little things. I used to call them my birds, last summer; and mother said they reminded her of me,—busy, quaker-colored creatures, always near the shore, and always chirping that contented little song of theirs. You are the gull, Jo, strong and wild, fond of the storm and the wind, flying far out to sea, and happy all alone. Meg is the turtle-dove, and Amy is like the lark she writes about, trying to get up among the clouds, but always dropping down into its nest again. Dear little girl! she's so ambitious, but her heart is good and tender; and no matter how high she flies, she never will forget home. I hope I shall see her again, but she seems so far away."

"She is coming in the spring, and I mean that you shall be all ready to see and enjoy her. I'm going to have you well and rosy by that time," began Jo, feeling that of all the changes in Beth, the talking change was the greatest, for it seemed to cost no effort now, and she thought aloud in a way quite unlike bashful Beth.

453 "Jo, dear, don't hope any more; it won't do any good, I'm sure of that. We won't be miserable, but enjoy being together while we wait. We'll have happy times, for I don't suffer much, and I think the tide will go out easily, if you help me."

Jo leaned down to kiss the tranquil face; and with that silent kiss, she dedicated herself soul and body to Beth.

She was right: there was no need of any words when they got home, for father and mother saw plainly, now, what they had prayed to be saved from seeing. Tired with her short journey, Beth went at once to bed, saying how glad she was to be at home; and when Jo went down, she found that she would be spared the hard task of telling Beth's secret. Her father stood leaning his head on the mantel-piece, and did not turn as she came in; but her mother stretched out her arms as if for help, and Jo went to comfort her without a word.

454

#hellsitesonlybookclub #bookblr #little women #alcott

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naralanis · 3 years

Text

little bumps in the road (pt. 19)

Previously, on LBitR...

Like her cell before this, the room Lena now occupied has no windows, only the bright fluorescent lights that emit a soft hum just loud enough for Lena to hear—something that would ordinarily drive her crazy with annoyance, but now just gives her something else to focus on.

There are no clocks, either, at least not that she could see, not even on the many monitors attached to her via an array of wires. Though, to be fair, her visibility is somewhat compromised by the limited range of movement the handcuffs afford her.

No one has come in to check in on her so far, not even a nurse doing their rounds or some hapless DEO agent—because she is very much not in a hospital, as much as it looks like she might be. Lena would guess she’s being held at the DEO, but she doesn’t particularly like guessing. She likes knowing. And what she knows is that she’s been here for what feels like forever and she’s starting to get antsy.

Not that Lena has much idea of how much time has passed; she tried counting the minutes in her head, but couldn’t concentrate long enough on the task to keep it up for more than twenty counts to sixty, which in her book, is long enough.

She half-expected Lex to come in at some point, even if just to gloat, but he hasn’t shown so far, and Lena figures he doesn’t need to. He’s already got his pieces in place—he controls both Lena and the Director of the DEO; he can just sit back, kick up his feet, and relax while he waits for the game to start up again.

For Kara to come flying into his trap.

Fucker, Lena thinks bitterly. She feels a little high—probably whatever pain medication she was given.

Her stomach growls, sudden and loud, and Lena realizes she has no idea when she had eaten last. But more than telling she’s hungry, the unpleasant sound tells her she’s been sitting here twiddling her thumbs (figuratively speaking, of course) for a few hours at least.

Tired of being laid up and useless, and entirely not in the mood to wait for Alex or whoever else to come in, Lena tries to shuffle down the bed, as much as the handcuffs will allow, to try to get to the bandages stuck to the side of her head.

There’s some incredibly awkward shuffling down the thin mattress and further into the cheap, staticky sheets, and the angle is far from comfortable, but eventually Lena manages to lean down just enough so her fingertips graze the edge of some gauze, right at her temple. She pinches it between her index and middle fingers—the only ones that actually reach—and slowly begins to tear it away from her skin.

It’s at this moment that Lena becomes exceedingly thankful for the invention of morphine—or whatever else it is they have her on, here—because after some poking around, she’s definitely reopened her wound. Her fingers come away bloody, and the whole spot feels raw and hot to the touch, but fortunately, she feels little more than pressure.

She’s very well aware that, as far as good ideas go, this one probably nears the bottom of the list (or perhaps isn’t in it at all), but her options are limited, after all. And to be quite fair, even if she doesn’t succeed, she’s already in this pseudo-hospital room—it’s quite unlikely her captor will let her just. Die.

The angle is mightily uncomfortable, which makes it less than ideal when it comes to actually digging into a head wound, and so far she’s felt nothing that resembles the minuscule implant in her skin, but Lena is nothing if not tenacious, not to mention stubborn as hell. Kind of like Kara.

“If you would like, I could provide you with the schematics to Lex Luthor’s mind-control implant without the need of aggravating your wounds.”

Lena jumps—as much as one can jump when they’re handcuffed to a bed—at the voice; she’d been so concentrated on her slightly insane task she didn’t hear anyone come in. Her bloodied hand snaps away from the wound on her temple in shock and hits the rail with force, enough to send her now-empty ice-chip cup flying to the other side of the room.

“Brainy!”

Lena cannot quantify the sheer relief she feels when she sees the stoic figure at her door, ramrod straight with his arms crossed at his back. His lips are tugging into a little smile, like he’s so clearly happy to see her, and for some reason that makes her want to cry.

She does cry a little, and it’s so pathetic, because her hands are still handcuffed so she can’t even reach out to wipe at them. But it’s the first time in weeks, maybe months, that someone other than Kara actually looks happy to see Lena, and she finds she’s wholly unprepared to deal with it.

“What are you doing here?”

He steps in, squinting at her and tutting under his breath as he sees her bloodied hand, head, and bandages. “Do you need me to tell you how exactly much you’re increasing your risk of infection by interfering with your bandages?”

Lena lets out a wet, choky laugh. “No, thank you. I’ll be good.”

He nods, lips tugging ever-so-slightly wider. It’s the closest to a beaming grin as Brainy can get, and Lena can’t help but laugh. Maybe she’s hallucinating. But she’s so, so very happy to see me.

“Good,” he says, looking a bit awkward just standing by her bed with perfect posture. Lena wouldn’t have it any other way. “I will call someone shortly to redress your wounds. Trying to remove this type of subdermal implant with a piece of glass only had a 9.7% chance of success, in case you were not aware.”

Lena lets out a little snort. “I figured the odds weren’t great,” she quips. Brainy’s now just close enough she can touch his elbow with her casted hand—the other one is erm, bloody. It’s a little awkward—Brainy, like Lena, was never the extremely touchy type—but he accepts it with a little laugh. “Brainy, Alex—she also has an implant; she doesn’t remember—”

“I am aware of the Director’s implant. I was working to disable it, but it seems you managed to trigger the return of some of her memories.” He raises his brow, and Lena can tell he is mightily impressed. “Well done.”

“Who else has them? Who else has Lex gotten to?”

“Only the Director, as far as we know. Lex hasn’t made many of them, but we are working on disabling the entire system.” He frowns. “I need your help,” he admits as if it both pains and delights him to need Lena’s assistance. “I found the schematics of the implant itself, but the system…”

“Works on the basis of a program I designed,” Lena groans.

Brainy nods solemnly, thankfully not saying anything further on the subject. Instead, he pulls a small tablet from his pocket, and taps at it until it flashes blue. He turns the screen for Lena to see, and her eyes have a bit of a hard time focusing on the diagrams slowly spinning in place.

“The implant cannot be removed without triggering an alarm,” Brainy begins, and Lena is glad to finally have someone who can get straight down to business. “As well as several countermeasures Lex put in place. Had you successfully removed it, it would have. Erm. Liquefied your brain. In essence.”

Lena lets out a low whistle through her teeth. “Talk about overkill. So I guess we can’t remove Alex’s either.”

Brainy shakes his head. “No. The only hope is by disabling the entire system, which unfortunately cannot be accessed remotely,” he sighs. “I’ve tried 346 times and haven’t gotten close.”

“Well, if we can’t access remotely, then the only other option would be to—”

“LENA! ARE YOU BLEEDING??!”

Brainy jumps back a full three feet, bumping into the monitors with a loud clatter, hugging the tablet to his chest like a kid caught stealing from the cookie jar. Lena yelps, startled by a blue-clad figure at the door to her room, mask off but scowl very, very much in place.

“Nia,” Lena breathes, but she doesn’t have the chance to say anything else before the young woman marches to her bed, looking exasperated.

“What the hell were you thinking—girl you made a whole-ass hole in your head, this is not the time to start poking around in there, if this scars I swear to god I am going to kill you before Kara kills me before Lex kills us all are you kidding me right now—”

“Nia,” Lena tries again, and she can’t even be bothered with the way Nia’s fussing over her torn bandages and slowly clotting wound, because she just wants to thank her, she wants to hug her, but most of all, Lena just wants to cry. “Nia—”

“Oh my god, are you crying!?” Nia yelps, her previous fury vanishing within a second as it turns to worry as she eyes Brainy, who looks completely out of his depth at Lena’s sudden sobbing. “Why are you crying??”

Lena wants to raise her arms to hug the young woman, but the stupid handcuffs won’t let her, so she just. Sobs. Like a little baby—it’s a little pathetic, but she can’t help it, because Nia’s here, Nia’s the one who took her to Kara. Their mad run across the country, the resentment that melted into companionship again, the laughs they shared along the way—it was all because of Nia.

Nia seems to understand, on a surface level, because she lets out a sigh, dropping the gauze she’d been unsuccessfully trying to stick back on Lena’s head, and just wraps her arms around her, tight and present.

“Thank you,” Lena sobs wetly against the crook of her neck. “Thank you.”

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#nara's word vomit #LBitR #supergirl #supergirlcw #supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #ficwriting #femslash #listen i rewrote this three times and then said fuck it #this programme is brought to you by Nara NOT being a bastard for one #featuring one Big Brain Boi #and the Incomparable Nia Nal #and baby Lena #lena luthor needs a hug #lena luthor gets a hug

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sand-seeks-sun · 3 years

Text

Opening Up

Bobbling over the footpaths of the deep shroud with his baby clung at his hip & kicking him like a ridden horse, Y’aromirr kept his typically fast pace in his travel.

“I go!” Rosie exclaimed, her small ears pinned back with anger in her head of curls. “I do it!”

“No, sweetie, we walk together. I’ll put you down when we get there, okay?”

“No okay!!” The toddler rowdily threw her legs in all directions, making her a real hassle to hold for her father. Luckily, however, he was a bit too used to this kind of fit and simply took Rose up by the armpits in both hands, smothering her like a starfish to his chest in a hug.

“Y-you’ll be safer up with Papa for right now. Papa p-promises to let you walk for yourself soon… okay?” Y’aromirr cooed downwards into his little Rose’s hair, nuzzling it back from her face with his nose.

Hastening his pace as most he could, it didn’t take more than a few more minutes for the pair to arrive at their destination; The Splyhlands, in all their humid glory. Y’aro shifted his daughter up and over to his shoulder to free up an arm as they entered through the woven leaf archway.

“We’re heeere~…! D-do you still want to get down, Rosie?”

It took nothing more than the word ‘down’ from her dad’s mouth for Rose to burst out into unsettled kicks again, this time bouncing as well with a big eager grin.

“Down! Yeah yeah yeah!”

Y’aromirr giggled as he carefully propped her up onto her tiny feet, taking an extra moment to smother a kiss into Rose’s hair before standing back to his full stature. Rose looked up with her hand extended, waiting for her Papa to shake out his ears and fix his shirt before taking a hold of it, and taking the opportunity to rub over her tiny finger scales.

“Oki-bo Choki-bo, w-we ready to go?” A habit, said without a thought to his surroundings - and swiftly answered with a

“YES!”

The pair approached a teeny tiny sylvan hovel before long, and with unusual confidence under the watchful eyes of his daughter, Y’aromirr knocked on the round wooden door. He looked down to Rose and ‘winked’ to her, bringing forth hushed giggles from the child and keeping her smiling like he wanted. His eyes jolted forward at the sound of the lock unclicking.

“Uhm…Jexia? H-hello again, i-it’s me.”

“Me! Delightful delightful. And me is?” An older, yellowing around the edges from summers and summers past sylph responded from the open doorway.

“Me is… I-I mean, I’m… Y’aromirr.” The Seeker blushed a bit, ushering his suddenly shy daughter out from behind his leg, “She m-might… remind you o-o-of when we last talked. Or at least, uhm… s-someone else.”

“Eeeee! Walking one has wee one!” Tiny vined hands hastily pushed back a pair of glasses as the Sylph rushed in sudden flight out of their home and up to Rosie, nearly the exact same height as her. “Wee one with fuzz and thorns… oh-ho! This one thinks they remember ‘Y’aromirr’ better now.”

Before much of an interjection could be made, Jexia swirled around Rose and Y’aro in swift flight and back into their home, an echoing voice the only remnant of them in the doorway, “Some things in the basement needs be gathered and set, but come in, come in, come in!” & Y’aromirr followed the command, pulling along his daughter as they entered.

Rose’s sea blue eyes searched around the inner dressings of the Sylph’s home in wide wonder for absolutely all of the seconds she could until Jexia’s reappearance, causing her to freeze back up and tuck behind her Papa.

“Tomes, tomes. No good when one has so many about they can’t be found!”

Y’aromirr chuckled with deep understanding to that statement in particular, still trying his best to keep Rose visible to their host.

“S-so sorry to trouble you… I’m.. really n-not sure what you’d be looking for?” ‘I haven’t even said why we’re here’, the seeker tacked on silently in his mind with his teeth somewhat gritting. “I d-do see a fair amount over there y-you… haven’t looked through.. I think..” his voice trailed off as he watched his words go disregarded.

“Probably just buried it, this one did.”

“Wh-what… did you burry? In part-ticular?” Y’aro interjected, his tone firm.

The old Sylph giggled at this point, spinning around a few times in the air before whooshing off to another corner with a determined squint behind their spectacles. And without answering.

“Ex-excuse me.” His tone lower and former than normal, Y’aro glared dagger’s at his host, “I truly do n-not mean to trouble you, but.. Y-you… you haven’t even asked me wh-why I’m here!”

Jexia flickered their wings a touch slower as they turned, “Is it not same reason traveling one came two years ago? Help with a baby?”

Y’aromirr instantly flustered and lowered his ears, and picking up on his body language, Rose patted at her papa’s leg in some consolation. Swallowing his pride along with all the anger he’d felt any right to have towards this nigh miracle worker, Y’aro eventually piped up again.

“N-no… but.. I-I can see why you would have assumed.. that.” Another gulp. And sigh, “I actually c-came to see if you.. w-well you work in.. m-medicine, essentially? Things that have t-to do with the body.. the mind…”

The elder Sylph nodded with a hand keeping their glasses in place, “Yes yes yes, This one does all sorts of potions and salves and capsules for what the walking ones call ‘miracles cures’! How rudely they do not call them Jexia’s cures.”

“H-heheh… well, uhm.. I actually have another child now-“

“Goodness!”

“A-adopted! But loved a-all the same…” Y’aro swished his tail nervously, “and in th-that… he has trouble com-m-mmunicating with us.”

“Ohooo… and so? Traveling one wants to understand? Or traveling one wants to change the adopted one’s speaking?” Jexia swayed side to side as they considered the problem at hand, an eager look almost of entertainment on their face.

“W-well I don’t want to change them.. really, I d-don’t, but..” Y’aro swallowed and ruffled at his daughter’s hair as he thought of how best to phrase himself, “I want them to be able t-to have a normal life, and as it stands th-they can’t unders-stand or reply to s-so many things… to ask to eat, t-to be bathed.. to just g-get to be a ch-child and beg for toys or c-candies… t-t-to.. hear me congratulate them and comf-fort them-“

“Many things, of course, yes.” Jexia interjected to let Y’aromirr catch his forming tears in a sniffle. “And without a ways to talk, wee ones often get veeery reclusive. Shy and unhealthy.”

Y’aromirr nodded solemnly as he watched over the Sylph, deeply entrances in the many contents of their aging bookshelf. Jexia would through a few pages of one tome, then slam it aside to grab and peruse another. Over and over.. until they swept up a 6 book high stack into their hands and precariously carried them all downstairs and out of sight.

“This one will need time!” They called out, “Two suns? Maybe six!”

Y’aromirr gathered Rose’s hand into his own as he called back, “Th-That’s okay! Uhm… Sh-should I just come back here, then?”

“This one would prefer that way, yes! Traveling one is traveling one, after all.” Jexia popped back over the banister to say, a newfound blue of fluster on their otherwise verdant cheeks. “It’s very appreciated by this one.”

Y’aromirr nodded and gave Rosie’s arm a gentle pull to rouse her from staring,

“And it’s appreciated, w-whatever you can do. Earnestly…”

A giggle from the Sylph, and another cautious nod from the seeker, and the pair made their way back out the door they came in - soon to be home with great news for the other half of their family

#it's eren writing time I hope everyone's READYYYYyyyy #I haven't really written in a while so I'm not the most confident about this #but it's a cute little moment and I wanted some papa Y'aro moods #plus Rosie #rosie is always good #raising a new kid is hard when they don't know your language and haaaave abandonment issues...#Do slyphs have the potential to do the things I write them doing? they do for me :)

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