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#this morning was the...fourth? time I've gotten something like this
astronomeridian · 14 days
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Hey, I'm really happy that you liked my fic, but could you please think about what you're saying to me—a complete stranger—before you comment?
Here’s the thing: I write mostly E-rated fic. For obvious reasons, the norms for commenting are a little different than in the genfic world, and (to be clear) I deeply appreciate every comment I get.
But every now and then I get a comment that’s something like this:
“Hi! I loved this fic. Here’s a graphic description of the things I did to myself while reading it.”
Or this:
“Hi, I’m in this fic! It was so hot to read about [other half of ship] doing all of those things to me. Thank you for writing about me!”
And. Okay. Let me tread a little carefully.
To start: I am genuinely really happy you liked the fic, and that you're taking the time to tell me that. Most of my NSFW scenes are meant to be titillating. If you find them arousing, that’s great—that’s what I’m going for. If you’re picturing yourself as one half of the pairing, more power to you.
I also don’t know you. Like, at all. You scrolled through AO3 and saw my fic and read the tags and decided to click and read to the end, but I cannot control whether or not your comment shows up in my inbox.
So I hope you can understand why I’m a little uncomfortable when someone I don’t know shares graphic sexual details of their life in my inbox. 
I hope you can understand that no, you’re not in this fic: I wrote this fic about a fictional character that may share your name and face, but who does not exist. And I hope you can understand why it’s uncomfortable and distressing to me when someone tells me that no, actually, this is for me. it’s about me.
I’m happy to hear that you liked the fic. I’m happy to hear that you found it hot. But please keep in mind that I am a stranger that you are approaching on the street, and my consent matters too.
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lou-struck · 4 months
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Bigger Bling
Mammon x reader
Wc:1.9k
~Mammon can’t stand to look at that damn promise ring Lucifer gave you any longer.
a/n: This is a loose sequel to this Lucifer One-Shot HERE (You don’t have to read it but If you want to go ahead)
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It's shiny
It's expensive 
And it's BIG!
Mammon's deep blue eyes glare down at the stunning promise ring on your finger. The very one Lucifer had bought for you all those months ago. As it rests on that special finger, the Demon determines that he has never hated a gem more in his life. The deep red garnet with the black-gold band looks like something his brother would choose for you. 
He really hates that.
"Mc, you should take that thing off and Let the Great Mammon give you a real rock." he pouts, his tanned fingers boredly toying with the sparkling gem on your finger. 
You only laugh and ruffle the Demon's white hair with your unembellished hand. "Mammon, I can't do that. This ring is very important to me. How would Lucifer feel if I took his gift off?" 
The Demon's cheeks turn a dusty pink color as he tries to hide your effect on him with his hands.
"Who cares what he thinks?" he mutters, "I want to give ya somethin' even better so you'll be dyin' to take that old ring off."
That's it!
Mammon's eyes light up as the cogs in his head start to turn with a not-so-evil scheme. 
All he has to do to get you to take off that cheap little ring is to buy you something even better. It will be gold, and shinier and will cost even more Grimm than what his older brother had spent on you. 
He turns towards the door, using his insane speed to bolt before you have a chance to say goodbye to him. He doesn't notice the look of confusion on your face as he shuts the double doors behind him with a conniving grin. 
With you out of sight, Mammon has the alone time he needs to revel in his brilliance. He had just made a killing from selling some of the gifts that were just sitting in Asmo's closet of offerings from his fan clubs. 
His brother really has no idea how much of a fortune he is sitting on…
Nevertheless, Mammon reaches into his wallet and pulls out Goldie. The credit card seems to shake in apprehension of the Demon's upcoming shopping trip to only the best jewelry shops the Devildom has to offer. 
~
It's been a long day at RAD, and without Mammon's company, the day seemed to go by even slower than normal. After he walked out on you this morning, you didn't see him for the rest of the day.
After talking to a few lesser demons you realized that he didn't show up for any of his other classes either. And as you are sent to his voicemail box for the nth time today, your heart begins to ache in worry that your Avatar of Greed has somehow gotten himself into some kind of trouble.
Twisted scenarios of the Demon being chased by witches or undead debt collectors churn your gut throughout your walk home. As you let yourself in through the massive double doors, your weary mind replays your last interaction with him before he left. 
You fiddle with the ring on your finger and wonder what was it about the gem on your finger that got him so upset?
Your good-natured worrying begins to boil under your skin. When you notice that he's not in the living room with the others, those feelings only increase.
Clear your throat, gaining the attention of the three conscious demons in the room. Belphie, the fourth, is fast asleep, resting his head on his twin's lap. Lucifer is off at the castle doing some work with Diavolo. And Levi is up in his room, where he has been working his way through a new game since last night. "Hey, have any of you guys seen Mammon anywhere?" 
Satan looks up from his book briefly and gives you a smile. "Thankfully, no. Without his jabbering, I've been able to make some sufficient progress in my book."
You roll your eyes lightheartedly at the blond's remark but look to the others in hope they have a different answer for you. 
Asmo sees the concern on your features and tries to comfort you with an embrace. The sweet scent of his cologne soothing you a bit. "Sorry, Hon, I haven't seen him since breakfast. But I'm sure he'll come back soon. In the meantime, how about I take your mind off things?" The playful suggestiveness in his tone makes you giggle as you look over 
"Mmnnnother two., Breakfast." Beel hums dreamily as he imagines the Bufo Egg quiche Asmo baked for you all this morning. You can tell from the little stream of drool that trickles from the corner of his , That he will be of little help to you. 
Belphie blinks up at you sleepily, stretching his arms out lethargically as he sits upward. "Mammon?" he yawns. "I saw him earlier when Beel and I were walking home. He was out shopping and looked strangely happy. 
"We did?" Beel asks, coming out of his food-related daze. "When? I didn't see him."
"Probably because you were trying to sniff out the Devil Dog vendor." Belphie snorts before turning his attention back to you and gives you a sleepy smile. "He's just messing around somewhere. He'll be back soon."
As if on cue, you hear the front door burst open. Mammon calls your same in a sing-song voice from the entrance as the others groan. Satan huffs and puts a cat-shaped bookmark in the novel he is reading. "There goes my quiet afternoon. I'm gonna go to my room and finish this."
The Avatar of Wrath gets up and pads quickly out the door just as Mammon strides in with a pep in his step. A small gift bag in his hand as he blinds you with his pearly white smile. He looks elated, which kinda irks you since you have spent the better part of the afternoon concerned for his well-being.
What are ya doin' Mc?" the white-haired Demon asks, as if you are the one who has evaded him all day long.
"Wondering where you have been all day, Mammon?" You respond back exasperatedly. "You just got up and left me this morning and didn't show up for any of your other classes. I thought you got yourself in trouble or kidnapped by witches… again." you mutter that last part under your breath, but Mammon seems too excited to notice. 
"Course you were worried bout the Great Mammon," he laughs, slinging an arm around you comfortably. "That's why yer such a good human."
"Mammon, seriously, Where were you?" 
There is a twinkle in his eyes and a faint dusting of crimson on his tanned skin as he looks around the room at his brothers, who are not-so-subtly listening in on the conversation. "Lemme show ya somewhere private."
He takes your left hand but quickly jolts and releases it when he comes into contact with your ring. He takes your right one instead, and you notice how sweaty his hands are. He walks you silently down the hallway and up the stairs until he gets you to the safety of his bedroom. 
He sits with you on his plush bed and begins to ruffle through the tissue paper of his gift bag before pulling out a cubic, black, crushed velvet box. 
The size throws you off a bit since it is roughly the size of a child's shoe box. 
Far bigger than any kind of jewelry box you have ever seen. 
Not even the cases Diavolo uses when transporting the crown Jewels are this big. Your curiosity and confusion blend together in a strange concoction as Mammon sets the box in your hands. "Mammon, what is this?" you ask nervously. 
He is practically wiggling in your seat in anticipation "Jus' open it, you'll see."
Spurred but his excitement, you crack open the box to reveal the biggest freaking diamond you have ever seen in your life. The gem is the size of a softball and is tethered to a thin golden band at the bottom. 
You blink at your reflection in the facets of the gem, unsure of what to say. "I-is this a."
"Isn't it amazin'?" he gushes. "The biggest ring ya ever seen?"
So it is a ring…
"It's certainly the biggest." you parrot, unsure if you should take the ring out of the box or put it in some kind of museum. "This must've cost a fortune. How did you pay for this?"
"Oh it's nothin'," he laughs with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "It'll take me a few hundred years to pay the thing off, but only the best for my human." It takes both of his hands to remove the heavy ring from its cushion. The thin golden band looks like it is bending under the ring's weight. "Come on, you should take that old thing off and put this baby on instead."
You realize that he is gesturing to your promise ring, and everything clicks into place. 
Mammon wanted to give you something so special so you would remove the ring Lucifer had given you all those months ago. That ring is invaluable; it's a promise, a thank you for the love you have given to him and his brothers since you arrived in the Devildom. It's not something you can just discard.
But Mammon must think you wear it as a sign you love Lucifer more than him. "Oh Mammon," you murmur, placing your hand on his shoulder. "You know I love you, right?"
When he realizes that you aren't going to throw your older ring to the floor in disgust, his face falls. He's confused and looks at you like a kicked puppy. "B-but this one is better; i-it costs ten-no a hundred times more than the other one."
"It's not the price of the ring that makes it special," you say softly, gently tracing your finger over the massive diamond Mammon had gotten you. "This is beautiful, but it's too much."
"I jus' wanted to show ya that I'm yer first. I love ya Mc." he sighs. "And I wanted to give ya somethin special so everyone would know it."
"I know you do, and I love you." gently, you close the box and hand it back to him. "Even without the Diamond to end all diamonds." 
"I know ya do." he sighs, bumping you playfully with his shoulder. "But do ya really want me to return it?" 
"It's for the best," you chuckle. "I wouldn't want you to be in debt."
"It was a lot of Grimm," he says, chuckling nervously. "I swear Goldie was cryin' when I pulled her out t' pay but yer worth every bit."
"I'm sure she was," you laugh. "But I do appreciate the gesture. How about we take it back together."
"Yer the best mc," the Demon says eagerly, giving you a heartfelt smile, "How about we pick out another piece for ya. Like a bracelet or somethin?" He sees the slight apprehension on your face and places his hand over your own. "It doesn't have to be crazy expensive if ya don't want it ta be' I jus' wanna give ya somethin' so ya know how much the Great Mammon cares about ya."
Swayed by this little compromise, you find yourself agreeing to the Demon's request. Standing from the bed and taking his hand.
A few hours later, you come back wearing a simple yet elegant gold bracelet. Giggling when Mammon marches you around the Devildom to show everyone the special piece of jewelry he got for you.
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Tagging: @enchantedforest-network
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writing-house-of-m · 4 months
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Cold hands, Warm hearts
Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader
Summary: Natasha warms you up on a cold day with an impromptu date
A/N: This is for @esouliie ! You can all thank her for this because I don't know when I would have gotten something new finished. This was also the result of there being way too many 'missing Natasha hours' recently (I've also been having a lot of 'missing Wanda hours' too and have re-watched WandaVision because of it). But, everyone... this fic... is so freaking cute and I hope you all think so too. Happy reading and let me know who you think!
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"Hey," you hear a familiar rasp from over your shoulder. 
You didn't think you would hear from her so soon. She told you she was going to be busy, which is code for ‘away on a mission’, so have kept yourself occupied for the last few weeks trying not to think of the red head. Which is easier said than done. 
Every morning when you wake up disappointment fills you not seeing her there. Your intertwined lives are now routine. 
It is hard to adjust when she is away, especially when it is for weeks and what feels like no end in sight. On top of that, with missions like these, there is no communication between you to fill the Natasha shaped hole in your life. 
Sometimes you wonder if it would be easier to be involved with someone else, anyone else for that matter, but the thought is gone as quick as it comes because no one could ever replace the way she makes you feel. 
The first week of her absence you filled your free time as much as you could by catching up with friends and family. You constantly found yourself avoiding the question about why you have been so distant recently. It was the one thing Natasha requested from you - not telling anyone about your relationship with her - to, in her words ‘keep you safe'. 
You still remember the way she looked at you. It was the first time you could see past the facade she held, seeing the worry linger in her eyes for a split second. The intensity of her gaze and her hesitance was a strange thing to witness. When you nodded your head in agreement her smile was soft, almost relieved. In that moment you realized you would agree to anything she asked just to see that vulnerable side again. You felt privileged. 
This second and third week have been much slower, a lot of your time has been spent in the four walls of your apartment because of last minute canceled plans and much needed maintenance needed around your home. 
So you decide today, cold be damned, you will be taking a walk through your local park. You shared this little wonder of a place with Natasha in your fourth month of being together, happy to be able to reveal a bit more of you and your life. 
It is a public place, more people pass by here than in the street where you live. But you got to show Natasha all the overlooked secrets; little winding paths that lead to flower gardens, a pond hidden behind some bushes and the gargoyles you can see from one spot when standing in a specific angle by a monument in the center. You even pointed out some regulars you see because of all your time here. From the confined elderly wanting a bit of liberation from their mundane lives to daring children trying to climb the tallest tree they can find. 
A breeze rushes past, the cold chilling you to your bones and you inwardly curse at yourself. Trust you to have picked the coldest day for some freedom. Initially, the brisk air was making you regret your decision, that was until the sun came out. It didn't do a whole lot against the freezing temperature, but it did look pretty against the frost and ice distracting you from the chilly weather. 
The way the sun's rays shine between the branches that stretched out over your head reminded you of spring time and how much you couldn’t wait for the season to change. 
Just as you were about to get out from the clearing for some much needed sunlight and heat on your face, that’s when you heard Natasha. 
It has been so long you think you are hearing things, that is until you turn your head and see her. The long army green coat she is wearing almost makes her look taller. 
Almost. 
Strands of red hair peek out from the beanie Natasha is wearing, a braid is tucked into her pulled up collar and she has a soft smile on her face. One you have noticed she reserves for you. 
It takes everything in you to not run over and jump into her arms, to press your nose into her neck to get a smell of the home you have been craving. 
Big scenes are not her thing, you’ve learnt. 
Instead your eyes drop to her gloved hands holding two hot drinks which takes you out of your stupor and smiling brighter in return. You almost want to ask how she knew where you were but then remember her profession. 
"You look cold," there is a playfulness to Natasha’s voice matching her smirk. 
Regardless of how wrapped up you are, you know your scarf hasn't done much to stop your face from getting cold, it must be covered in a light blush. 
"I could say the same about you," you raise an eyebrow with your own smirk. A noticeable pink tint is adorning her cheeks and nose from the cold bite of the air. You wonder how long she has been trailing you. 
Natasha's smile widens as closes in and hands you one of the cups. You take off your gloves, shoving them into your pocket to allow the heat to bring back the feeling in your frozen hands as you bring it to your nose to take a whiff. Your favorite, of course it is. 
She leans in and pecks you on the lips, her still warm palm from the drink sinks into your cheek making you forget about the kiss of the sun you were walking towards. Natasha disappoints you with how short her lips are on yours, you were hoping for something that was more than just a split second considering how long it has been. 
Although Natasha pulls back it is only by an inch as she remains close to ask, "Where are you going?" 
Her voice is low and her warm breath is a nice contrast to the icy wind. 
Your eyes flutter close as you revel in her presence and soak up the warmth she brings. Brushing your nose against hers you reply, "Wherever my feet take me," you smile and open your eyes to the green ones you selfishly wish to keep to yourself. "I'm glad I have some company now," you whisper. 
"I hope you weren't expecting anyone else," Natasha says with a twitch of an eyebrow. 
You shake your head. "Definitely not," you say, pressing a small kiss to her lips, one that lasts longer than the mediocre one she gave you. "I missed you." 
You like seeing her like this. Carefree. Soft. Unguarded. 
Well as unguarded as can be, it was something you picked up in your first few months of spending time together - Natasha is always alert. The way her eyes flint around every so often, looking around to quickly survey her surroundings, always cautious of any lingering threats. To the untrained eye it looks like she is taking in the scenery, but you know after knowing her for as long as you have. 
Over time it is a habit you have even picked up from her, making you wonder if there are things she has picked up from you. 
Natasha stands by your side allowing you to loop an arm around her waist while you take a sip of your beverage. It leaves a warm trail as it makes its way down your throat. It still isn't as warm as the way Natasha makes you feel though as cheesy as that may sound. 
"Thank you for this, I didn't realize how much I needed it," you say, signaling the paper cup. 
She smiles at you to acknowledge your gratitude. "You're never one to think ahead, plus I saw you shiver," Natasha remarks. 
You scoff, shaking your head, "I did not shiver." 
Some children are laughing not too far in front of you which distracts both of your attentions away from your conversation. A large puddle of water has frozen over and seems to be the main source of entertainment for the little gang. 
The two of you stop to watch their innocence, a pang of jealousy hits you because of how carefree and innocent they are. Not a single worry showing on their faces in this cruel world. 
You have been fortunate to only hear about the atrocities always going on. More so since you started to date Natasha. She doesn't go into detail about her line of work but the faraway look she has on her face sometimes after certain assignments tells you all you need to know. It fills you with pride knowing you are Natasha’s source of domestic normalcy. 
One of the snuggly wrapped up boys slips and tries to regain his footing before he falls to the ground making you let out a breath of laughter. The scene is something straight from a cartoon as the boy tries to find balance when trying to stand again while the rest laugh at him. A boy in a puffy gray coat, who is howling with laughter, loses his feet from under him sending him straight to the ground landing on his butt making the rest of them exclaim even louder. 
The smile you see in your peripheral vision tells you Natasha is enjoying this too. 
"How long had you been watching me before you decided to come over, stalker?" You ask, curiosity getting the better of you. 
"Long enough to see you shiver," Natasha accuses in her husky voice. 
You bark out a laugh, "I do not shiver!" 
"Yeah, yeah, you keep lying to yourself," Natasha smirks. 
You spend long minutes, people watching while sipping on your drinks and basking in this precious stolen time you get to spend with each other. 
The children are fewer now, some of them have left with their parents while the rest stay. They have started a game to see who can stay on their feet the longest as they try to knock each other down. 
Sometimes you forget Natasha’s past, what little you know of it, and almost ask about her childhood. You bite your tongue to stop yourself from asking 'What did you get up to as a kid?’ 
Instead, you face Natasha as she continues to stare on at the scene; her side profile is enough to show her fatigue. You place your empty cup on the wall beside you so you can take her face in your hands. 
Natasha takes your lead to turn in your direction allowing you to take in all of her features. 
"You look tired," you whisper in concern as your thumb rubs along her cheekbone. 
"Gee, thanks(!)" Natasha chuckles at her own sarcasm. 
"Nat," you start, ready to reprimand her for not being serious. 
"We’ve had some long days. But don’t worry, I'll be off for the holidays,” Natasha replies. “You'll have me for two weeks. That’s enough time for you to get sick of having me around. By the end of it you’re going to want to be rid of me." 
"Impossible," you say without thinking then lean in to press a kiss to the corner of her lips. 
Natasha turns her head slightly to meet your lips, sighing when she allows herself a moment of being wrapped up in you. 
A buzzing sound makes you stop before you can deepen the kiss any further. You let out a breath of disdain from Natasha’s phone ruining your moment. Natasha smiles at you apologetically, taking the device from her pocket. 
While Natasha checks the notification you give her some privacy, picking up both empty cups to discard them. 
When you return and meet Natasha's eyes, the sparkle that was there just moments ago has faded as regret takes over. She is being called back. 
"Three more days, then you're all mine, Romanoff,” you smile. “And for a whole two weeks!" you exaggerate in hopes to lessen the blow of her having to leave. "How did I get so lucky? I guess I'm being spoiled this season." 
You know you succeed when you see the corners of Natasha's lips raise slightly before she holds onto your coat and pulls you in kissing you again. 
Her phone buzzes impatiently, interrupting you again . 
"I have to go," Natasha says, her warm breath fanning over your face as she rests her forehead against yours. ”But just know, I’m the lucky one here.” 
You smile at her confession and revel once more in the warmth she provides before you have to face the harsh cold that comes with the Winter months alone. 
Kissing Natasha’s forehead you meet her loving green gaze once more. "Come back to me," you breathe out as light as the breeze chilling you. 
"Always," Natasha says, sweetly and just as quiet. Her voice carries the weight of more than the one worded sentence she has spoken. 
Taking a breath, Natasha gives you a final peck before she drags herself away from you. 
Your arm stretches out as Natasha walks away, your hand lingering in hers for those extra few seconds of comfort. But mostly because you don't want to let her go. 
Saying goodbye is always difficult no matter how short the visit. 
As you watch her walk away you think about the first time you met the assassin. 
Out of all the windows in the city Natasha crashed through yours. Your shock had you frozen in place until she tried to stumble out of your apartment but collapsed from fatigue because of the fight she had just endured. 
After getting over the fact an Avenger covered in dirt and blood had ruined your new rug, you used your limited first aid knowledge to nurse her back to health. When she awoke a few hours later, she told you just how crappy of a job you had done. 
What got Natasha’s attention was when you quipped back saying you should have let her bleed out to make a quick buck off of all of her equipment to pay for the damages she caused. 
When she left a short while later you didn’t think you would ever see her in person again. You were looking forward to being able to tell all the people in your life about the encounter with an actual superhero. 
Reality hit you in the gut with the name of ‘Non Disclosure Agreement’ and a clean up crew which you couldn’t be mad about. 
Unbeknownst to you, after your first meeting Natasha couldn't stop herself from wanting to see you again. Her mind drifted to the ‘kind’ (your words not hers) stranger who applied sloppy bandages to her arm and stomach. The messy job would have gotten infected if she hadn’t woken up. Natasha caught herself smiling at the memory too often and had to force herself to be present for work. 
Life went on and your encounter felt less and less real as each day passed. Until one evening, while in your office building working late, you received a call telling you you were needed on the roof. Skeptical as you were, you obeyed thinking of the promotion you had been working so hard toward. 
What you hadn’t expected was a fully healed Black Widow to emerge from the shadows, playfully schooling you to not comply with shady orders received late at night. Then insulting you with how boring your life was and how you should learn to cook for yourself instead of wasting all your money on take-out. 
Surprise was an understatement and instead of letting that show, like your mouth wasn’t already slightly hanging open from the shock while she spoke, you decided to play Natasha’s game and call her out for the stalker that she was. 
Since then your meetings have been sporadic but it didn’t stop you both from falling for each other. Who knew a year and a half on you would be in a relationship with each other, life would have made more sense if you had stopped talking. But you have defied the odds and are still going strong. 
When you make it back to your apartment you find flowers waiting for you on the kitchen counter making you smile. A card attached to them with a message in Natasha’s handwriting that reads ‘3 more days ♡’ makes you feel like your heart is going to burst from emotion. 
Needless to say that smile never left your face throughout you making dinner all the way up until the moment you go to bed that night. Natasha somehow always has a habit of making you feel like a giddy teenager. 
You couldn’t wait to see her again. The gift you have been wanting to give to her for a few weeks has been hidden under your towels in the kitchen cabinet. You can only hope she doesn't already know about it. 
The next time you are together you are going to give her a key to your apartment so that she knows she will always have a place to come back to. 
A place she can call home. 
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stargirl-writes · 4 months
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safety net part two
pairing : force healer! jedi reader x anakin skywalker
word count : 1 k
masterlist | part one
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summary
finding safety in a world deranged by war became a distant dream until your childhood friend, anakin skywalker, comes back to your life.
tags : angst, fluff, romance, friends-to-lovers
warnings : mentions of dressing a wound
notes
part two of this one but can be read as a stand alone !
also, i think it'd make sense if i say that as a demisexual, angst is my version of a smut haha!
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Anakin would appear every Wednesday.
The clone war broke out and healing Anakin became more difficult. For every wound that you closed, another would appear.
By the fourth week of your treatment, his bionic arm was nearly finished. You've gone to extensive lengths to gather beskar alloy. Which worked out in the end, because Anakin's synthetic arm became a sort of shield.
There was absolutely no reason for him to keep coming to your med-bay station. You knew he could've easily submerged himself in a bacta tank, which he developed a deep hatred of, or used a stim, but he persists.
And you can't entirely find it in yourself to not welcome him.
Anakin was a part of your childhood that felt like how home always felt. Even if you can no longer identify with most parts of your past, Anakin was... well, it was nice having him around.
"I'm starting to get the idea you're hurting yourself to see me" You teased one late night when Anakin welcomed himself to your quarters.
He lets out a soft chuckle, shrugging his shoulders.
You step forward, hand finding a way to his cheek out of instinct.
Exhaustion. Warmth. Excitement. 
You withdrew your hand, he was alright.
His gaze felt warm on your skin, you caught your eyes locked with his.
Your heart races and you step back, searching for something to occupy yourself with.
"I still don't get how you do that" Anakin's voice echoes from behind. You open the drawer of your closet to find your kit.
When you turned, Anakin was curiously stirring the pot of soup you were preparing.
"Do what?" You asked absentmindedly, laying out the cotton, the antiseptic, and the salve neatly on the table.
"You can tell how I'm feeling by touch?" Anakin searches the cupboards for the bowls and cutlery.
"I've been trained to" You answered, then gestured Anakin to sit down so you can dress his wound.
Anakin walked over and started taking off his robes. He winces under his breath. Recognizing his careful movements, you helped him unbutton his shirt.
A large blaster burn was marking the back of his shoulder to his collarbone.
"You should've gotten this checked by a med droid" You lectured, surveying the wound.
"Thought I could use gentler hands" He still delighted in himself.
You huffed a laugh. Then, you began cleaning the wound.
"I'm applying the salve now" You narrated what you were doing, a habit you developed after realizing Anakin does not like being surprised by the sensation.
He nods and you continue. Finally, you focused your intent on fully healing the wound. You closed your eyes, focusing on breathing at a steady pace. It had been a few moments before the skin was new again.
"Thank you" Anakin mutters, rolling his shoulder to feel the pain had gone away.
You stood up and turned the heat off the soup. Anakin pulls the chair and waits for you to sit. Once again, it was just you and Anakin sharing a table, isolated from everyone else. The way it always used to.
However, when morning comes, the reality of it dawns on you. You can only ever steal a few moments of safety with Anakin, but the truth is there'll always be a war.
On most days, it felt like the losses were unending. On most nights, Anakin would make time to hold you as you wept when the weight of it all felt too heavy.
You weren't really the person to cry in front of other people. But with Anakin, you fall to pieces. Perhaps, you were comforted by the fact that he won't judge you, even if some nights you'd utterly be inconsolable.
"We'll be alright" He'd promise.
Even the fact that you have Anakin Skywalker so definitely became a cause of fear.
Because there he'll always be. You know his eyes like they are your own. You can hear his laughter when he is not laughing. You can come to Anakin and there he'll always be.
What happens when he's not?
You hadn't even realized how much you were depending on Anakin. Because it was always about taking care of each other.
So it came unexpectedly.
One quiet evening Anakin insisted on staying the night.
And you let him in, holding the door wide open so he'd know he could leave anytime he wished.
"I didn't think I'd ever be this happy to be back on Coruscant" You sat on the edge of the bed. Taking a deep breath as you leave the tormenting memories of the day fade away with the light.
"I make you happy?" Anakin half turns with a boyish smile.
His resilience was something you admired. You were certain he was carrying an equal amount of grief. And yet, here he was. Brave and confident, so competent, so certain that he, too, has something to offer.
"Of course, you do," You said, to yourself or Anakin, but you couldn't decipher.
He was telling a story of how he started implementing this game with Ahsoka, a competition of some sort to revert her focus away from the truths of the war. His words blur as you stare and think to yourself, Oh.
He has that power over me now. 
It felt like a surrender. In a world terrorized by a raging war, he built a home that made you feel safe.
He notices your silence and sits down next to you, his finger tracing the necklace he gave you, and you find yourself running yours through his hair.
"We're going to be fine," Anakin said. "It's okay, it's going to be alright," he said in a firmer tone.
He'd been there when you needed him to. So, he'd always reassure you.
"I'll always take care of you, you know what, right?"
"That's my line" You chuckled.
Anakin mirrors your smile. "Right, well, I mean it".
Your mind quiets, and you can't hold the pose of defiance when Anakin presses your head to his chest.
"Doesn't it get tiring? Fighting and fighting..." You trailed, voice barely above a whisper.
"It does." He answers. "But we have to, otherwise, it's like handing the galaxy in the hands of a cruel tyrant"
You turned your face upwards to hear more, and your nose touched his.
"Alright, chosen one" You teased his heroic remark.
He grimaces at the title. He still doesn't believe it to be true. And you'd never miss the opportunity to call him that.
"At least you're already chosen by someone" You looked up through your lashes.
Anakin shakes his head and his lips curl to the side. "Well, you're my chosen one"
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did anyone catch the dramatic irony haha!
also! written this off the prompt [which i can't find anymore 😭] of people healing each other physically and emotionally by loving
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brbsoulnomming · 9 months
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Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 5
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | AO3
-----
Around the fourth of July, when Eddie's finally resigned himself to a third senior year at high school - his last one, his last chance, because he knows damn well they're going to stop letting him stubbornly try again at some point - he gets a series of lies that fill him with more dread than even the bit about the hospital.
I don't know, I don't know anything!
There's nobody else out there, swear to God!
My delivery didn't come, and my friend and I, we thought that it was left at the loading dock, so we went in the room.
But I swear to God, nobody knows about us, nobody saw us.
And I'm not gonna tell anybody about this, okay?
Come on, I told you everything I know!
Eddie panics.
He knows what an interrogation looks like, and it's pretty damn clear that his soulmate is lying to protect someone - multiple someones? His organization? Shit, is his soulmate like actually a spy, or is he just a dumb kid who stumbled into the back of a mafia run organization or something?
Whatever it is, Eddie doesn't want to leave him alone to it, but - Uncle Wayne already left for his shift, and he can't call him at work, and on top of that, Eddie's a little afraid that whatever he says will get picked up by the interrogators or throw his soulmate off.
So he waits, tense and on edge and every moment cracking him open wider and wider.
And then, after hours of nothing that leave Eddie checking over and over again to make sure the words on his skin are still stark and bold, that they haven't gone all faded the way they do when your soulmate dies -
I'm fine, they're hurt worse than me, they need it more.
He lets out a shaky, relieved sigh, even though he's beyond furious at his stupid soulmate who keeps getting himself hurt, and there's a pit at the bottom of his stomach that makes him wonder what the hell his soulmate has gotten himself involved with.
This time, he's not going to let him get away with insisting he doesn't need medical attention. Uncle Wayne may still be at work, but he's got other options.
Eddie calls Jeff.
"I think you have to go to the hospital," he says when Jeff answers, slow and deliberate and sincere.
There's a few moments of confused silence, then Jeff asks, "What the fuck, dude?"
Eddie waits for just a little bit longer before saying, "When you see what I've got for this next campaign, I think you're going to have to go to the hospital."
Jeff laughs, and they talk for a little bit about what the campaign's going to be like, what character Jeff's thinking about for it, what he'd like to do with his character and how it can fit with some of the stuff Eddie's working up, how Eddie better not kill this one damn it.
"You know all I care about is you and your safety," Eddie says before they hang up, once again making it as genuine as possible so it'll get picked up as a lie.
Jeff laughs at him again and hangs up on him, leaving Eddie all alone and jittery.
He doesn't know if his soulmate will even see it any time soon, let alone respond, but - at least he did it, at least he said something.
So he's a little surprised when he feels the sting of a new lie getting written on his shoulder later that night, so late that it's already almost morning.
I went to the hospital, but I didn't get medical attention, it says. I'm not safe now.
The last of the panic he'd felt drains out of him, and he's reluctantly but fiercely grateful that his soulmate decided to break their silence to reassure him. He's not expecting anything else, but a few minutes later he feels something else being written on the inside of his thigh.
I don't care about my soulmate, too, and I won't do anything to keep them safe. That isn't why we can't talk again yet.
Oh.
Eddie kind of wants to be stubborn, and insist on talking to him again anyway, but -
But his soulmate said them, not her, like he's open to the possibility that Eddie might be a guy. But his soulmate said yet, not never. But his soulmate said he'd do anything to keep Eddie safe, and Eddie's pretty sure he just got a little glimpse into what anything might be, and he -
Things have changed. His soulmate's probably graduated, Eddie realizes, and he's clearly found at least one person who's a different kind of friend, considering the lies he just said are no longer stilted and obscured, and all that's aside from whatever he's gotten involved with that might mean Eddie isn't safe if they talk again.
So for now, he'll listen.
Later that month, Eddie's in the back of Hawkins' one and only comic-slash-games shop, crouched down and hunting through their meager supply of miniatures. He's so focused on his search for one that he a, hasn't used a lot, and b, can modify enough to suit his latest campaign, that he doesn't notice someone's come up and is standing by him until he hears the rustling and clack of merchandise on the shelf above him.
He rocks back on his heels, looking over and up to who's joined him - and nearly falls over when he sees Steve Harrington standing there.
"Seriously?" he demands, because Jesus Christ, they're coming to find him in his own territory now? Then, in almost the same breath as the state of Hawkins High's recently graduated golden boy hits him, "Wait, what the hell happened to you?"
Harrington squints down at him, looking incredibly unimpressed. Eddie's not actually sure how someone can pull off looking that irritated when one eye can only barely open, but somehow, he manages it.
"I was captured by Russians who didn't like my attitude," he responds, dry and sarcastic.
Fuck him then, Eddie decides, turning to glare back at his miniatures. "Right, heaven forbid the peasantry rise above their station and show concern to the royalty."
There's an awkward silence, but Harrington doesn't leave, and when Eddie glances back up, he looks - softer, somehow. It makes his injuries look even worse, and Eddie swallows roughly.
"I was at Starcourt," Harrington says, as if that should explain it all, which -
Actually, yeah, it should. It's not like Eddie's unaware of the fact that the mall kind of spectacularly burned to the ground. It's all that's been in the papers for the last few weeks. He hasn't read many of them himself, but he couldn't avoid remembering some of the headlines - Hero Cop Dies Saving Children and Scoop Slinging Teens Save Lives and Hawkins Mourns Loss of Promising Teen Couple.
He'd been irritated at seeing Harrington and Hargrove's faces everywhere, in a strange, gut clenching way that he doesn't really want to look too closely at, considering one of them is now dead and the other apparently saves lives. In retrospect, he should have put it together, but Harrington's picture had always been him in his varsity jacket, or his tux and crown at prom, or once in the sailor outfit of his summer job. Never of his injuries, and even now, looking at him, it looks so much more like he got in another fight than he was injured in a fire.
"Is it true, then?" Eddie asks, because he can feel the most recent lies from his soulmate burning as though they're being written all over, and he still really doesn't want this asshole to be it. "Little sailor boy saving lives?"
Harrington makes a face that has to hurt, but apparently looking bitchy is more important than physical comfort. Then he shrugs one shoulder. "Yeah, I guess, I helped. But it wasn't just me. I wasn't even the MVP."
Eddie snorts. "False modesty doesn't become you."
Harrington just mutters, "Whatever, man, you asked," and goes back to looking at the shelves like Eddie isn't even there.
Which tracks, really, with how Harrington had treated almost everyone in high school, and Eddie rolls his eyes.
"What are you even doing here?" he asks.
Harrington looks back down at him. "The Hopper-Byers are moving to California."
"Did not know that." Eddie's kind of surprised that Harrington does, actually, unless he's been keeping tabs on his ex's current boyfriend, just waiting to swoop in. Sucks for the Byers, though - baby Byers will be okay, he thinks, but he knows Jonathan's heading into his senior year, and that's a rough time to - "Wait, Hopper-Byers?"
"Yeah." Harrington's expression has gone all closed off, now, like he'd rather be anywhere but here talking to Eddie.
Feeling's fucking mutual, Eddie decides.
"El - Hop's adopted daughter - she's going with the Byers."
Eddie didn't know Hopper had an adopted daughter. But then, with Harrington's parents, he's not surprised the guy's cozy enough with the chief of police to have a dumb little nickname for him and be friends with his adopted daughter.
Former chief of police, and that makes Eddie feel just a little bit guilty. Not enough to stop poking at Harrington, though.
"And that brought you here because…."
"There's a going away party, and I'm not showing up empty handed." Harrington gestures at the shelves. "Will likes all this weird shit."
Goddamn. Even when Harrington is doing something nice for someone, he's still a huge dick about it. Eddie wonders if it's hurting what counts for a brain under all that hair to be this thoughtful about an obligatory going away present for some nerd.
Harrington lets out a frustrated huff of air, pushing his fingers through his hair. "Help a guy out, man? He's leaving his party behind, so I don't want to get him something for, you know, game play or whatever, but maybe something to remember it?"
If Eddie was feeling charitable, he might think it was sweet, how much the guy was thinking about this. But, well.
It's Steve Harrington, and even if Eddie's never really interacted with the guy before, he knows enough to know he's exactly the kind of rich, popular jackass that makes life for people like Eddie miserable.
So Eddie snorts, thinks that of fucking course the guy is trying to outsource gift buying onto him, that he can't even put in the effort to pick it out himself and instead is just trying to find someone else to do it for him.
Still, he doesn't want Byers the younger to end up with a crappy gift. He might not be coming into freshman year at Hawkins High with the rest of his apparently D&D playing friends, but Eddie can still look out for him a little.
"There's some t-shirts and posters next aisle over. Couple of choose your own adventure comic books, some art books towards the back," Eddie offers.
Harrington makes a face. "Yeah, definitely not getting him a t-shirt, hopefully he can at least have a chance at his new high school."
Oh, fuck this guy and his judgemental, holier-than-thou attitude.
"He's an artist, though, his stuff is really good," Harrington continues. "I already got him a sketchbook and some paints, so maybe the art books? I'll take a look."
Harrington is moving before Eddie can get a word in edgewise, pausing only to clasp his shoulder and give it a squeeze.
"Thanks, Munson," he says, easy as anything, and then he's gone.
I just wanted to say a huge thank you to everyone whose commented/reblogged/liked this - I'm a little bit blown away by the response, and I'm so so glad people are enjoying this!! We'll be heading into season 4 with the next part, and they're probably going to start getting longer because this is turning into such a monster. I'm having so much fun writing these dumb boys!
-----
Part 6
Taglist (if I missed you please let me know, and always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @affablevixen @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n
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—reading glasses
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SUMMARY | schlatt might not seem like the guy to help you with your insomnia, but sometimes an act of kindness can come from where you least expect
PAIRING | cc!schlatt x reader
REQUESTED | no
WORD COUNT | 1.6k+
WARNINGS | none
AUTHORS NOTES | id like this to happen to me irl please and thank you <3
🧢 Masterlist 🧢 Navigation 🧢 Rules 🧢
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If there was one thing you knew, it was that insomnia was a bitch.
Sleep had always ben unkind to you. Sprouting up and disappearing just when you had gotten settled in for the night. Lingering like a poisonous mist before bleeding into your morning routine when you would have to be at your sharpest. And most certainly plaguing you at the most unfortunate of times—like during the middle of an important lecture for exams. Or the one time when you had gotten up at night to use the bathroom, only to find yourself still on the toilet come morning with numb legs and a sore back.
But it seemed tonight that sleep was the one thing you wouldn't be getting a lick of—if the dark circles under your eyes weren't already proof enough.
"Jesus Christ toots." Was the first thing Schlatt said when you lumbered into the living room, looking like an extra from the set of The Walking Dead. His ide eyes and parted lips told you nothing new, just that you were as tired looking as you felt.
"Carful. Not in front of the cutout. What would Pope Francis say?" Your joke hit about as hard as a feather to the arms, humor missing Schlatt by a mile as he cringed while taking in your current state.
Said man had been reading a book before you so graciously entered the room, only setting it down once he had heard the shuffling of feet against carpet.
"It's one in the morning dude. Didn't you say you were going to bed like five hours ago." He poked his tounge around inside his mouth, eyes softening a bit while looking at you.
"I did say no promises." You flopped on the couch parralel to him while referring back to the last conversation you had had with the brunette. Where, indeed, you had responded with 'no promises' to the call of you to get some rest.
"So, what. Did you just sit in there doing nothing?"
"I mean, Jambo came in at one point and slapped my face a few times before leaving. If that counts."
"No. No, my bastard of a cat terrorizing you does not count." He ran a hand through his hair with a cackle, scrunching his eyes up at the lopsided smile you tossed his way.
As more seconds ticked by, you could feel exhaustion practically seeping into your bones like a weird form of gray matter. But it never seemed to sink it roots into you, the feeling always clearing up for a few minutes before appearing again with twice as much intensity. Rinse and repeat for a couple of nights and you had yourself some good old fashioned sleep issues.
"Fuck, you look dead on your feet." Schlatt's hands found a home in his pant pockets, bundling up the fabric while swaying back and fourth on his heels. "Do you want to uhm, stay out here for a bit? I could turn the light on for you."
A breathy laugh made its way out of your lips. As dead beat as you were, it was heartwarming to see his attempt to make you feel better. It was a softer side of him you rarely got to see, so you'd treasure every moment.
"No need big man." Your arms reached for the skies in an attempt to soothe the ache between your shoulder blades. "I'll pass out eventually. I just have to hope it isn't in the shower again."
"Sure there isn't anything I can do? I've spent one too many nights of my life pulling all nighters editing videos, or god forbid—" He shuddered dramatically. "—playing five nights at freddys."
A joking response was halfway out of your mouth before you suddenly stopped, brows dipping with consideration as you actually considered his offer for a moment.
"Yeah, you could do something for me actually."
"Really? Becuase you know how people say things to be nice but don't really mean it?"
One deappan look at the foul mouthed man had him shutting up, a small grin staying despite your efforts to burn holes into his head.
"What were you reading before I got in?" You asked with a clearing of your throat, shuffling around on the couch to sit up straighter.
Schlatt seemed confused at the sudden turn in conversation. But he reached for the paperback he had tossed down at your arrival, holding the front up for you to see.
"It's upside down genuis."
"Shut the fuck up I knew that."
He flipped it back round to a legible position, his turn to scowl at your bemused grin.
"Seriously?" Small giggles filled the room as you read the title as clearly as you could in your sleepy state. "Business 101 for beginners? Committing to the bit I see."
"You forget I'm planning to buy Gamer Supps this year. Gotta lock and load the old noggin with the proper information." He paused to blow out a resigned sigh. "And I realize that the last sentence made me sound like a fucking boomer."
"All the greatest businessmen are Schlagg, my boy. But they're also heartless asshole that's probably get off on watching landlord's raise rent." You were straight up rambling from the lack of rest at this point and you both knew it. But to be honest Schlatt didn't really care. He was probably one of the only people able to keep up with your antics, one of the reasons you appreciated him so much.
"Who says I dont either?" Schlatt joked, watching as you rolled your eyes.
"You only jerk off to men. We all know that. Besides, would a heartless asshole offer to read to me until I fall asleep?"
"I am?" His voice rose at the question.
"Yes. Yes you arem"
Schlatt noticed his blunder as soon as a tired, but still annoyingly smug, smirk made its was across your face.
"You know you could have just asked me instead of twisting my words. And taking some hits to my ego." He scoffed in fake frustration. But your grin of victory widened as he picked up the book and began to flip back to the page he had previously left on.
"Well that's not as fun is it. Besides—" You swiftly moved couches to throw yourself down smack dab across from Schlatt, the latter barely looking up in the process. "—I have a feeling I'll really sleep this time."
"As opposed to what. A warm glass of fucking milk?"
"Can you just read already? And try your best to sound boring, I really want you to nail home this college proffessor roleplay situation we have going on."
"What?"
You blinked. That had come out a little wrong.
"Sorry. I had this proffesor in college, boring guy super dull, always managed to make me fall asleep in class and—" You cut yourself off, face warming as you noticed that Schlatt has only been teasing you about your previous sentence. "Eat shit Schlatt. Just read the damn book."
"Whatever you say."
Five minutes later and halfway through a paragraph about the importance of not making your business seem like a pyramid sceme, it was just Schlatt sitting awake at the foot of the couch as he quietly observed your snoring figure.
"Jeesus." He winced as another loud snore ripped its way through the late night air. "You could cut trees with that fucking chainsaw."
But he would be lying if he didn't admit he was happy you were finally getting some rest. He had been in the same situation before too many times than he cared to count, so Schlatt knew you would wake up the next morning feeling better than you had in days. Something he liked seeing, although you could pry that confession out of his cold dead hands.
"Fucking asshole, making me get all soft jusy so they can fall asleep." The lamp light behind Schlatt was shut off as he grumbled under his breath, smoothing the blue hoodie he had been wearing down in preparation to leave the couch before faltering.
With a sigh he resumed his position on the couch, pulling a baseball cap that he had seemingly gotten out of nowhere over his head only after making sure to toss a blanket over you.
As he continued to softly watch over you, a little blob of orange entered the corner of his eye, freezing him for a moments notice.
Schlatt turned slowly to be met with Jambo, who he sternly pointed a finger straight at without hesitation.
"Tell anyone about this, and you're not getting any of that shitty catnip for a week."
He just got a meow in response.
"Good."
Jambos tail swayed back and fourth. He watched as Schlatt curled up on the couch next to you, doing his best to respect your space before giving in and stealing the tail end of the blanket around you.
"Night Jambo. Wake any of us, and you're a dead man."
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jpitha · 1 year
Text
More #Aliens are Gardenworlders. What happens when a Human gets approval to live on an actual Garden world?
Day 1 Hey Diary! I'm so excited! It took something like 8 weeks and practically a dozen forms, but I finally got approval to relocate to that Garden world I was telling you about! It's so nice here. Everyone is friendly, the house they assigned me to so so cute, and it's just incredibly easy to get around and get food. And the weather? It's been sunny and warm, and a local was confused when I asked what season it was. They don't have seasons! No more ice and snow! I think I'm going to like it here.
Day 28 Huh. Still sunny and warm today Diary. I expected at least some clouds or rain or a thunderstorm, but nothing yet. It's been sunny and warm all month long. They don't even count months here! They just track the days in a yearly period! Went out to my "garden" (really the forest behind my house) for some lunch and just grabbed whatever I could pick. It was all tasty and easy to eat.
Day 62 Diary. It's still sunny and warm. I don't get it. Every day is exactly the same. All the locals don't notice or care, and when I ask about weather they look at me oddly. Didn't feel like foraging today, so I just ate some of the "grass" in the backyard. It's fine, tastes like pistachio.
Day 180 OMG DIARY! It rained today! Everyone was so scared! They said it only happens once a year or so and was all worried about it. Schools were closed and everyone stayed inside. It wasn't even a thunderstorm! It just rained for about 90 minutes in the morning, then the clouds parted and it was sunny and warm again. I stood outside in the rain the whole time not even caring that I was getting wet.
Day 200 I've read just about every book I can get my hands on, twice! I've watched all the shows that I can get off my pad, human and non! (I will say, those K'laxi historical dramas are very good, but I don't like the Xenni war documentaries). I. am. bored.
Day 250 Okay, you're going to think I'm getting weird Diary, but this can't be normal. It rained once the whole time I was here, it's never gotten too cold or too hot, has always been sunny or partly sunny, I can eat practically everything around me and get this - it's so easy to sneak up on the locals. It sounds mean when I write it out, but I can just crouch in the bushes and when one walks by jump up and go BOO! And they scream and run away. The fourth time I did it, the authorities came by and asked me nicely to stop. They said they didn't want to "interfere with any human predator rituals" but that I had to "stop stalking the locals."
Day 380 It's been more than a year, and I'm more convinced than ever that I am in hell. After that one time it rained last year, it hasn't done anything else! Also, I got in trouble again for stalking the locals - I wasn't even going to attack them or anything, it's just TOO EASY to sneak up on them. I need to get another hobby or something.
Day 420 (nice!) So Diary, I got in some pretty big trouble with the planetary authorities this time. It turns out, nobody here had ever heard of Extreme Sports before. I was just so bored, that I had a motocross bike shipped over. I had found one that was just like I had when I was a kid on Earth! It was so cherry. Someone had done a lot of work to it. Anyway, I had built a little course in the back forest of my house, nothing crazy! But someone saw me doing jumps and getting some sick air, and called the authorities, worried I was "exhibiting symptoms of self-harm." They took my bike!
Day 500 Okay, I give. I can't live here anymore. If you can believe it, I'm getting burnt out on nice weather! I did a telehealth session with a human therapist off-world and they recommended I apply to be transferred back to a human world, or at least moved to a Starbase or ship. Somewhere where things can change, and there's more going on.
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basilone · 2 months
Note
Hi Killy? How about #20 caffeine, dealer's choice for characters. Thank you!
Ooo, thank you for this one! 💙 I'm delighted at it being dealer's choice, as this got me to try my hand at writing my fave of faves: Rosie. I do hope I've got him down right! (Slight, slight spoilers for the most recent ep apply!)
caffeine
The base is somewhat beautiful when the sun’s still low. There’s a slight haze hanging just above the dewy grass, too thin to be a full-on fog but lending this early morning a particular enchantment all the same. Gold streaks flicker through the last vestiges of night. If she squints at the treeline hard enough, its greens will mingle with the twinges of red in the dawn. Like Christmas painted through a misty window.
It’ll be a while before Christmas comes, now, though the mornings aren’t getting any warmer.
Imogene puffs up her cheeks. Blows warm air between her hands, then rubs them together briskly. She’s forgotten her gloves again. Margaret’s not about to loan out her perfectly good set of spare gloves, either, if that glare from earlier is anything to go by. And Jeannie is nice and all, but the knitwork on her gloves is absolutely drenched in perfume. Imogene lets out a sigh. Contemplates the risks associated with running back to her bunk and praying her own gloves will be in the place where she put them last.
Truth is, she hasn’t got the time. Jeannie’s already taken off at a dead run for the bathroom for the second time in an hour, which has got Margaret fuming in a way that’ll at least make sure the sink’s going to be so spotless you could eat out of it. Imogene would be more worried about Jeannie if this wasn’t already the fourth time a girl like her was prone to retching her guts out in the morning and being just fine and dandy in the afternoon.
These girls, like some of the men, barely stay long enough to learn their names.
And then, of course, there are those few who seem to stay a lifetime.
“One for the road, Captain Rosenthal?”
His answering laugh is soft, but his joy somehow never fails to meet his eyes. “If you can spare me a cup, yes. Thank you.”
“It’ll be a little minute, sir, sorry.” Imogene shoots him the closest thing she’s got to an apologetic smile. “I hope you can wait that long to get your latest dose of caffeine. These new coffee makers are a bit slower on the uptake.”
Captain Rosenthal hums a little to himself. “I believe I can find the time for it this morning, Imogene.”
“Glad to hear it, sir. Congratulations on your twenty-fifth, by the way!” She’d meant to say that about five days ago, but the party had turned raucous and strange in equal measure before she’d had the chance. And the men had been pretty tightly knit around him, at least before the mood had taken another tailspin downward. “When are you due to go home? Is it a ways away yet?”
He shifts his weight from foot to foot the way he always seems to do when contemplating something important. His gaze fixes on the horizon. Well past the planes on their hardstands, beyond the line of trees and buildings. Like there’s something in the early morning sky only he can see.
Imogene waits him out the way she always does. There is no hurrying Robert Rosenthal, not when he is pondering something important before his first coffee of the day. He might have something interesting to say once the idea lands and takes root inside him. Last time, he had made a small comment about bird migratory patterns that had somehow evolved into a conversation about penguins at the zoo. The time before that, he had asked her something about hairpins – not a topic for a man, or so Margaret had scoffed after – before he’d leaned forward ever so slightly and told her some of his men might have gotten their hands on a second helping of chocolate through the cunning use of hairpins. (DeBlasio, if she had to name one. It’s always the goddamn Italians getting into trouble on this base.)
“I’m not too certain Florida will agree with me.” His smile is almost remorseful, as if he has contemplated the idea and found himself to be rather like a fish out of water. “I’d miss this weather. Gruesome chill in the air this morning.” He shudders just a little, more to himself than to her. “And I have to say, Imogene, I’d be hard-pressed to find better coffee than this.”
“Now you’re just flattering me, sir,” she laughs, grabbing a pristine white cup for him. “We do what we can, but the stateside coffee just tastes better if you ask me. I dream about it sometimes.”
“The perfect cup of coffee? Bit of milk, two sugars. Little bit of foam on top, perhaps.” There’s a twinkle in his bright eyes as he steps closer, keenly awaiting his morning shot of caffeine. “What is your poison of coffee choice in this world, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Imogene hums to herself. “Bit of milk, bit of caramel, sir.” She almost wishes she had enough time to foam the milk up a little, give it a bit of a whisk before stirring it into his cup. “The sugar’s too cloggy. Caramel syrup works just as well to sweeten it.”
“I take it there is no secret stash of caramel syrup on base here?”
“You”– she gestures with the little spoon –“would be correct, Captain. Perhaps you can sneak me some, once you’re back home?”
The shadow that passes over his face is gone as swiftly as it came, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t see it. Imogene sucks in a rather noisy breath. Feels a chill swoop down and back up her spine in a way that’s got very, very little to do with the morning cold of early March. He glances back at the horizon a moment. Wistful, her mind supplies. Then: yearning.
She’s seen it before. In Major Cleven and Captain Rivers, every time they were kept on the ground too long. In Major Egan, once Major Cleven had vanished and left a hole in the fabric of reality itself. In Stella Lombardi, whose eyes never quite seem to meet the ground anymore, and in Two, who might just survive them all. There’s something in the set of their shoulders. Something in their eyes, once you know where to look.
Imogene looks. Sees. “You’re not going home.”
Blue eyes, brighter than any morning, meet her gaze. “Not just yet.” His confession hangs in the air between them a moment. She fills up the space with a mostly full cup of coffee, milk and sugars already stirred in, and is proud when her hand does not tremble. “We have work to do here, don’t we, Imogene?” His bare hand brushes her own before he lifts the cup in clear gratitude. “Thank you for the coffee, as always.”
She takes a deep breath. Steadies herself on the counter, just out of his keen gaze’s reach. “You’re very welcome, sir. Same time tomorrow, then?”
A laugh startles out of him, bright and beaming and so alive that she wants to cry. “Same time as always, ma’am.”
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writing-fanics · 11 months
Note
i saw this video of jonah singing the hallelujah chorus and now im obsessed haha
can you write a jonah x reader or prince eric where the reader is having trouble falling asleep so he sings to them to sleep while holding them ?
(btw he doesn't have to be singing the hallelujah chorus)
lullaby me to sleep
Jonah Hauer-King x Reader
a/n: song not mine
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You tossed in the sheets unable to fall asleep. You are tired beyond belief having gotten home late from working a double and had to work again tomorrow morning. Turning over to your alarm clock the time currently said, 3:10. In five hours, and couldn't fall asleep.
You wanted to scream into your pillow, but couldn't since to your left slept. Jonah, your boyfriend is fast asleep lying on his stomach. You smiled softly, he looked so peaceful in his sleep. Something you wished you could achieve.
You groaned quietly, "Can't sleep?" Jonah asked, and you turned to look at him, "Sorry, did I wake you?" You asked, and he shook his head, reaching over towards you and pulling you closer to his chest.
"No, you didn't." He whispered, kissing the top of your forehead. "I have work early tomorrow and I can't sleep." You said, and he looked down at you.
"Maybe, you should call off?" He asked, and you shook your head. You needed this money, for school, and despite Jonah saying he'd help fund your education. You didn't want him to and wanted to do it yourself.
"I can't I need the money." You said, and rubbed your shoulders. "Well, your health is more important." He said, and you frowned. "You don't wanna show up for work half asleep," He said, and you looked down.
'Now I've heard there was a secret chord That ''David played, and it pleased the Lord' 'But you dont really care for music, do you?'
You looked up at him confused, as he sang his eyes closed yet his voice quietly singing the song. Like a mother singing their child to sleep.
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth The minor falls, the major lifts The baffled king composing Hallelujah
He sang, slowly rocking you as your eyes started to grow heavy becoming harder and harder to keep open.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah Hallelujah, Hallelujah
He watched, as your head gently pressed against his chest as your eyes slowly closed. and he continued to sing you to sleep, "You'd be such a great father." You yawned, and he chuckled softly as he continued to sing slowly rocking you in his arms. He continued singing, until you fell asleep completely.
He smiled, kissing the top of your forehead before falling asleep with you in his arms. That night, was the best sleep you've ever gotten in a long time.
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uselesssomebody · 1 year
Text
𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕛𝕦𝕝𝕪 (𝕝𝕝)- neighbor!joel miller x reader (pre!outbreak)
complete masterlist | joel miller masterlist
"𝕚 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕 𝕪𝕠𝕦, 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕚 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕖" - you can be the boss | lana del rey
words || 𝟞.𝟠𝕜
summary || in which the reader and joel don't speak for a few months
previous part || fourth of july (I)
a/n || this is very feral but badly written smut; bad combo, man ➵ it's exam szn so me posting will be sporadic i can't lie. ➵ experimenting with the accent, tell me what y'all think ➵ same disclaimer: there is an age gap in this story !! if that makes you uncomfortable, i have many other non-age-gap fics you can browse on my page. reader is like 27 and joel is like 36. he's not old, though he is mentioned as such because he's old compared to her. also canonical dilf ➵ not edited (yet) ➵ i've been on a bit of a pascal spree and am thinking about writing for javier pena, frankie morales, agent whiskey and din djarin whenever i find time to update, so ➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!
warnings || fluff/smut/bit of angst➵ unprotected p.i.v. ➵ oral (f receiving) ➵ fingering ➵ cum ig (tell me if i miss anything)
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it was nicky’s first day of school. that was how much time had passed.
she adjusted her hair in the mirror for a moment, as her sister wrapped up her lunch and placed it neatly into a bag. as she came down the stairs, she had a distinct pep in her step, practically waltzing into the kitchen before she sat to eat her breakfast.
“someone’s excited!” nicky nodded at her sister’s accurate assessment, as she scarfed down the scrambled eggs on her plate. her sister watched her fondly, handing her some water, and then a napkin, before sitting opposite her.
the two sat, conversing in between nicky’s bites: nicky was telling her about all the things that she’d heard from sarah about the school, and her sister was listening adamantly, only interrupting her in order to remind her to chew her food.
when she was done, she grabbed her bag, kissed her sister on the cheek, and opened to door to meet her friends, making her way to the bus stop just a few doors down. her sister looked up to see the neighbor opposite them looking over the group with a similar smile on her face, as her daughter goes to join the group as well. she waves at her, and the neighbor smiles back.
they’d been in the neighborhood for a few months, and she found the people around her to be simply a part of her routines - waving at jerry the postman, greeting martha and john when either left for work, or spending a few minutes each afternoon petting the pinscher that the marriots had gotten when his daily walk passed her lawn.
she was accustomed to it all. except for one little thing.
joel miller.
after that fourth of july evening, she felt as though he’d been avoiding her like the plague, always jetting in and out of the house at odd times in his pickup, and seemingly stuck to the confines of his place whenever she was outside, tending to the small plants on their lawn to keep it presentable and inviting. when she smiled at or greeted him, he’d give her a curt nod or a gruff good morning, before taking just slightly longer strides away.
it threw her for a loop completely, unable to understand how the man could go from the affection present in their moment of intimacy, to something as foreign as a stranger. for the first couple days, she found herself offended and a little insulted by the change in attitude, before it morphed into something more carefree as she came to the conclusion everyone comes to at some point in their life.
men ain’t shit.
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joel miller should have woken up that morning to the sound of his alarm, but the late night he’d had to pull last night had rendered him half dead as he slumbered deeper into the morning.
it took sarah shouting for him, knocking at his door, and then tentatively stepping inside to grab his arm and physically lug him up. the pressure around his forearm made him groggily open his eyes and, seeing her impatient but amused face, he nodded with a groan, ensuring her that he’d be up in a moment.
sarah’s uncle tommy was eating out of their pantry as he plated her toast, handing the slices over to her as her father descended the stairs. he patted sarah’s shoulder as he passed her, and she mumbled a sarcastic good morning through her bites. tommy smiled at his brother’s barely-awake face as joel reached for his coffee.
“you look like shit,” he chides, as joel sips out of his large mug. he places it down, shaking his head as he grasps his food from tommy’s fingers, and placing it back where it belongs.
“and ya eat like shit, tom.” tommy’s expression turns exaggeratedly indignant, and sarah laughs as she see it. she places her plate into the sink as she wipes her mouth, and she sidesteps her father to grab her backpack.
“you don’t need to drop me off - i’m gonna head to the bus with nicky and some of the other girls.” joel’s curious expression peers over his mug, but, seeing sarah’s excited face as her eyes glanced to the windows to see if her friends had already left home, he smiles into the beverage.
“’lright.” she smiles, making a beeline for the door as he follows her to wave her off. “ya ready?” he asks, as she puts her sneakers on and, when she rises again, she nods, almost solemnly.
“i’ll see you tonight?” joel winced, scratching his head as he thought about how long he’d be on-site that day.
“i - i think so?” it’s not a statement, instead a question, but it makes sarah smile a little as she rolled her eyes, pulling her father into a goodbye hug. he squeezed her tightly, before opening the door for her and watching her walk over to nicky and her sister’s place.
when he looked up, he saw the younger girl exit her house, her sister in the doorway as she said goodbye to her.
she was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, obviously also not having been awake for too long, but the mere sight of her makes joel adjust on the heels of his feet, straightening his back as leaned just slightly against the door way.
she was as gorgeous as two months ago, when he’d had the pleasure of seeing her in that much less. every time he saw her petting that one little dog, or meticulously looking over her flowers, all he wanted to do was hold her again.
but, of course, he realized how it looked: he was getting older; even sarah had started teasing him about it, and, well, she wasn’t. she may have had a type excluding men her age, but that wasn’t feasible - and joel had panicked after the realization that, though the sex was great, he wasn’t particularly capable of being much more than that for her without her having to sacrifice a likely healthier and more realistic relationship. besides, after his experience with sarah’s mother, he had always been worried as to what to do and how to handle future endeavors with women. so, he’d pretty much sworn off them.
that didn’t make it any easier when he had to pretend he didn’t care all that much about her when her gaze radiated in his direction.
tommy peeked out of the doorway, trying to see what had so keenly captured his brother’s attention. following his gaze, he sees the neighbor that sarah had been telling him about previously, and he suppressed a laugh as he looked between her soft, smiling figure and his brother’s ‘kicked puppy’ expression. he patted his chest as he exited the house, ready to start the car.
“don’t stare too much - y’already look like a creep.” joel blinked his thoughts away as he focused on his brother’s advice. he rolled his eyes, grabbing the car keys that tommy had somehow forgot and tossing them to him as he locked the door.
“stop runnin’ yer mouth, tommy.”
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she found herself home alone so much more now. of course, she had work to keep her distracted, but she’d wrap up quickly, not having quite that much to do as she waited for her sister to come back and for her to routinely explain the events of her day. she’d subscribed herself to an almost-riveting nature show that would air in the afternoons, feeling her eyes focus and unfocus on the colorful videos of birds or the tense videos of predators and prey.
on the days the two girls wanted a bit of privacy, or maybe some quiet, they would head over the millers’ place, knowing that mr.miller wouldn’t be back in for another few hours
but when they didn’t, nicky’d tend to bring sarah back to hers for a bit. her sister was more than happy to accommodate the two girls, enjoying the company and finding a distinct amusement in their banter. sarah spent just as much time talking to her as she did nicky, mostly for - shockingly enough - cooking tips. she’d mentioned how often her father was out of the house, and how that owed to her sometimes becoming bored of the takeout that he or her uncle would bring, and that she would usually eat the leftovers from the next night.
when she suggested that she teach her some basic meals to add some variety to her dinners, sarah was more excited than expected. that enthusiasm, and the fact that she was a fast learner contributed to the both of them spending many a evening experimenting with some new meal that one of the three girls picked up. though nicky would usually listen in to the lessons, or help organize the correct ingredients or pans, she spent nearly as much time trying to swipe bites from practically each step of the cooking process, owing to sarah’s continued amusement, and her sister’s exaggerated annoyance.
truly, sarah had sometimes found it a bit lonely at her place, only really seeing her family when her father or uncle would sporadically pop-in as they’d forgotten some documents, or something like that. now, though, she was relieved that that loneliness didn’t occur as much, in the sweet company of her neighbors.
so, when she bid nicky goodbye a little early one night, as she’d had to go home and speak with her parents, she was shocked to find, as she unlocked her door, the dull sound of the t.v., followed by a mumbled greeting from her father. she turned the corner to the living room, and his tired form was sprawled over the couch, with a her-shaped spot next to him. she took the opportunity, sitting beside him as he gave her a quick squeeze, only half-paying attention to his surroundings.
“how was work?” she said it into the small space between her and her father, and, though she was quiet, her voice was loud in the near-silent house.
“amazing.” he whispered back sarcastically, making her smile.
“well, have you had dinner?”
“’ve ya?” he countered, and she shook her head, using his knee to lever herself up, heading to the kitchen. he quirked an eyebrow as his eyes followed her steps, “what’re ya doing?” she poked her head back into the hall between the living room and kitchen.
“making something to eat?” he had assumed that she was going to make a sandwich, so, when he heard her turn on the stove, he looked in her direction, confused. finally, he pushed himself up, heading towards her to see what she was doing.
she’d pulled out a few things as he leaned against the doorway, watching her.
“what’re ya making?”
sarah mumbles the name of the dish, mentioning how their neighbor had been polite enough to teach her the recipe, as she continues to move around the kitchen, meticulously following the steps that she remembered.
“well, d’ya want any help?” sarah shakes her head.
“you’ll throw me off,” she chided, making joel laugh.
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over the next couple weeks, joel had had the pleasure of eating more home-grown food as opposed to the takout he’d practically been thriving off for the previous months, all at the hand of his daughter.
though he felt worried she’d overexert herself, he found her to be excitable as opposed to annoyed about the prospect, and he attempted to make it up to her by releasing her from a few of her other chores.
on one colder october evening, nicky comes back home a little earlier than usual, getting comfortable on the couch, to the shock of her sister.
“hey, nick? how was school?” nicky shrugged, fiddling with the remote, as she gestured for her sister to join her.
“it’s fine. i’ve got a math test next thursday.” her sister went to join her, letting nicky rest her head on her thigh, her eyes trained to the t.v.
“need any help with it?” nicky shook her head, the movement dragging over her sister’s thigh.
“actually, i wanted to ask: bea’s having a birthday sleepover at her place this friday. can i go?” suddenly, the affection clicked in her sister’s head. she’d done the same thing when asking their parents to go meet her friends, hoping the added sweetness would convince them to let her. of course, the same treatment wasn’t necessary with her, but it definitely didn’t hurt.
“sure, nick. where does she live?”
“closer to the city. her mom said she’d pick us up after school and take us there.”
“’lright, hun. get your bag set up well, okay?” nicky smiled at the confirmation, before sinking further into her sister and enjoying the movie she’d clicked on.
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she has a meeting that afternoon, and it was her first face-to-face one since settling in austin. the company she worked for really pushed a work-from-home agenda, but, every quarter, they’d indulge in a conference in order to maintain good professional connections and ensure everything was running smoothly.
she was just slightly worried she’d be late, as she attempted to smooth down her blouse and skirt, struggling just slightly with the front of her heels not allowing perfect breathing room for her toes. she grabbed her purse as she stuffed an out-of-place clump of hair back into place. the light curls framing her face did a lot to add to the professional nature of her look, but one thing that would definitely not contribute to a professional first impression would be arriving late. she looks at the watch on her wrist as she exits her house, wincing as she tried to remember the direction towards the stop from where she’d have to catch her bus into the city.
from just a few meters away, joel’s placing his tools into the back of his truck, getting ready to head into the city for a job he and his brother had been called in on. he glances up when he hears the faint clack of heels on the pavement, and he nearly does a double take when he sees her.
sure, she’d been nice and dressed-up for that neighborhood barbecue, but nothing quite like this. he averted his gaze in a moment, remembering what tommy had told him the other day, but, when he sneaks another peek at her, he notices her confused impression.
“’re ya alright?” against his better judgment, he starts bridging the gap between them, calling her name, making her whip her head towards him.
she’s pretty sure she hasn’t spoken to him in, like, a month, so she can’t really look at his still-intense gaze, instead fidgeting with the strap of her purse.
“hmm? yeah, ‘ve just got this meeting to get to - honestly i’m running a bit late-” she can feel herself beginning to nervously ramble, so she cuts herself off.
“which direction are you heading in?” she finally looks up at him, shaking her head.
“into the city? i’m actually looking for the bus stop.” he gestures to his car.
“c’mon, i’ll give you a ride.” her mouth hangs open for a moment, shocked by the offer, before she shakes her head.
“no - joel, you don’t have to do that-”
“the buses come every 30 minutes, besides, i’m heading to the city anyways.” conflicted, she goes to disagree again, but decides not to. she allows him to accompany her to his pickup, and thanks him when he helps her into the passenger seat.
as he starts up the vehicle, she adjusts a little in her seat, suddenly feeling warm in the knowledge of her proximity with her neighbor.
“thanks, again, joel.” she mumbles, as he pulls out of his driveway.
“don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” she’s a little shocked by the reuse of the nickname, but doesn’t hate the feeling it reignites in her. joel, on the other hand, cringes at the slip of his tongue, reminding himself that this interaction was strictly in order to help his neighbor, and not the otherwise beautiful woman in his front seat, whose skirt he was trying very hard not to focus on, as he kept his eyes religiously on the road in front of him, “what’re ya all dressed up for?” he sniffs, an attempt at small talk as the danger of silence threatens to envelop the distinctly small space between them.
“oh - um, yeah. i’ve got this conference for work, and - well, have to look professional, y’know.” he hums in agreement, but his brow quirks.
“i thought ya work from home?” she glances over at him, confused as to how he’d known. though many things happened during that one evening together, she didn’t remember telling him that.
“yeah, i - the company has 4 conferences annually, to make sure everyone still remembers everyone, i guess.” his lips don the hint of a smile at the quasi-joke, “how’d - how did you know?” joel’s eyes trace over her expression for a half-moment, before returning to the road.
“i - sarah’s mentioned it.”
“oh, of course.” that silence creeps up on them once more, and it makes her swallow dryly, “um, nicky was telling me about this sleepover she’s got in the city,” she continues, “i assume sarah’s going, too?” joel nods, running a hand through his hair.
“yup - girl’s excited too. was shocked, she’s not the type to go to these things.” she smiles at the comment.
“nicky’s a bad influence.” she makes a joke, and he finally smiles, putting her at substantial ease.
“eh - ya make up for it.” he makes the comment lowly, and she wonders if she’s supposed to have heard it.
her breath stills, as she glances at his unemotive expression, as she wonders what the hell he means.
“wh - what?” joel’s eyes widen just slightly as he realizes the implication of his words.
“you’re - y’re a good influence, s’all i’m saying. with ‘er cookin’ now n’all.” his southern accent comes out heavily in his lightly flustered state, and she suppresses her laugh so as to not embarrass him further.
“right. she’s cooking for you too, now?” he nods.
“almost ev’ry night. damn good food, too.” she laughs at his aggressive praise for his daughter.
“i’m assuming nothing for friday, then?” he sighs, not really having thought about that.
“yeah, wonder how i’ll manage.”
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her friday had started with a 4 hour call from 8 in the morning, fleshing out the plans for the upcoming quarter discussed briefly during her face-to-face conference.
after joel had dropped her off, he’d offered to pick her up as well, but she’d been insistent he not worry about it, citing he’d done more than enough for her already, and she’d instead taken a ride home with a coworker who, shockingly enough, lived in the same area as her.
she’d helped nicky set up her bag during the opening hour of her call, fixing her a hearty breakfast, and having over some money in the event of an emergency. she smiled at her young sister’s bubbly attitude over the prospect of her sleepover than night and, later, when she saw nicky meet up with sarah, she saw that same emotion plastered over the other young girl’s face.
her next few hours consisted of another two calls, a presentation for a meeting next week that she had to make, and maybe a grand total of a fuck ton of emails.
she had just the slightest hint of a moment of reprieve in the afternoon, so she spent a moment taking a breath of fresh air, stepping outside onto her porch. she glances to her right, almost instinctively, and she feels a distinct lack of surprise that his pickup wasn’t in the driveway. he really was out of the house a lot.
she remembered what he’d jokingly mumbled in his car when she’d mentioned sarah wouldn’t be home tonight: how would he manage? of course, she was sure he’d be just fine, but that didn’t stop her from feeling sympathetic at the, likely tired, man’s plight for what would likely just be leftovers of monotonous take-out.
knowing this, and knowing that she did technically owe him for the ride he’d given her, that night, she made a little extra for dinner, packing it up as she finished cleaning the kitchen before her own meal. she can see his car in his driveway now, just a little earlier than the long nights sarah would mention her father pull, and, with a steely resolve, she dons a sweater to combat the uncharacteristically cold night air.
after she’d knocked on the door, and was waiting for joel to answer, she wondered if this was a stupid idea. did it come as desperate? intrusive? assumptive? it wasn’t like they just did this, hell, they spoke for the first time in months just a few days ago. and since, it’d been realistically radio silent.
she tries to quell her racing mind. she was just being a friendly neighbor. it wasn’t like she was trying to get in his pants - again - right?
she’s snapped from her thoughts when he opens the door, donning just a solid grey shirt and sweatpants. she spends a half moment just blinking at his chest, before shaking herself out of it, smiling as she adjusted to look at him.
“hey - hey, joel. i never properly thanked you for the drive and i know sarah’s out so -” instead of fully explaining her presence, she opts instead to brandish the tupperware box with his assumed dinner, placing it into his slightly confused hands.
“i, you - ya didn’t have to do that.” his voice is a little hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken in a few hours, and she looks away from him, suddenly embarrassed.
“i - i know, i just thought i’d -” she trails off, and he shakes his head.
“no - no, i really ‘preciate it. here, come in.” her eyes widened at his offer, assuming this to be a simple drop-off.
“oh - um-” she hesitates, “right, thanks.” she slides past his frame as he closes the door behind her.
she wonders why he’d be willing to let her in after placing so much distance in between them. he wonders why he’s opening himself up to temptation after trying so hard to avoid her.
they both come to the same conclusion: he’s just being a friendly neighbor.
he goes to set the dinner table for the both of them, placing the box on the kitchen counter, but, seeing the documents he’d haphazardly scattered on it this morning, he gestures to the couch.
“oh, shit,” she peers in to see if everything’s alright, and the lightly flustered look on his face makes her shakily exhale - though quietly. when he turns to her, she tries to smile, “uh - make yerself comfortable, ‘lright?” she nods as she resists the urge to peel off her sweater in the warmer house, knowing she wasn’t exactly wearing much under it.
she can hear the tinkering of plates in the kitchen, and she lets her eyes drift over the minimal but homely living room, the added decoration of a couple of sarah’s trophies on the mantelpiece being a sweet touch.
when he walked in with two plates, he was quick to tell her to turn something on, if she wished. she obliges, taking the plate he’d set for her, flicking through the channels until she found something, realistically, not remotely interesting. a few minutes into it, they eat in near silence.
“god, this is good.” he mumbles, not even attempting to praise her - moreso in observation. she laughs at the comment, looking back at him, as he attempts to fix himself up and properly appreciate her.
“thanks, joel.” they’re silent for another moment.
“ya didn’t have to do this f’r me, sweetheart.” he mentions, and she swallows.
he’s getting too comfortable with that nickname.
“i wanted to.” when she glances at him, he’s got the ghost of a smile in his expression.
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sporadic conversation graced their meal, but the majority of it carried in silence. unknown to the other, both spent a long time stealing glances at the other, appreciating the way that the low light of the room accentuated their features.
finally, when she rose to place her plate away, she swiped his own empty one before he could tell her to sit down and act like an actual guest, taking them both to the sink. he follows her, the movie quickly abandoned as he places the rest of the food into his fridge.
she’s turned on the faucet as his back is turned to her, and he turns back to see her beginning to wash the few dishes in the sink.
“no - wait-” he goes to stop her but she brandishes a soapy hand to ward him off, laughing at his immediate recoil, “ya can’t-” he attempts to dissuade her from the action once again, but she’s not having it.
“joel - you’ve had a long day. it’s just one thing, isn’t it?” a silence falls over him, as he mulls over her words.
he’d not mentioned a thing about how long his day was - or how truly exhausted he felt on his way home. she just knew, and went the extra step of trying to make it that bit better for him. it’d been the same with the food she’d brought over: he’d not asked for it once, yet she felt compelled to do it simply through her caring nature. he thinks about how much she seems to care, and how upset he would feel to lose that, regardless of the taboo that their relationship would entail.
and he thinks about how much he missed caring about how she felt.
so, when she turned around, wiping her hands on the cloth beside her, she was shocked to feel the gentle tug of her body towards the kitchen counter, as joel’s warm hands grip her now lightly cold wrists. she’s shocked by the gesture, but even more shocked when she feels his hand on her cheeks, pulling her lips into his. it’s a languid motion, soft, and satisfying, as she allows the brush of her soft lips to graze the coarseness of his own.
she pulls away for a moment, if for nothing more than to breathe, and joel exhales, shaking his head.
“i’m sorry, sweetheart, i shouldn’t have-” she cuts him off by tipping her head forward, hungry to feel his lips against hers again. his beard tickles her chin, but she can barely pay it any mind, enraptured by the warmth of his body. she reciprocates the movement of his hands, pulling at his neck to press up more closely against him, as she felt his own gently holding and squeezing her waist. the cold of her hands sends a shiver up his spine, but the sensation does nothing to rival the jolts he gets when he feels her tongue graze against his own.
“fuck, joel. what’re we doing?” she mumbles it into the air above him as his head ducks into her neck, his chapped lips ghosting over the skin of her throat.
“m’sorry, sweetheart, le’me make you feel good?” it’s a question, but it doesn’t exactly wait for an answer as his teeth begin nipping the supple flesh of her barely exposed chest.
“i’ll - god, joel-” her breath’s just a little more labored now, and she’s itching for the wandering hands on her waist to meander their way further south.
knowing himself, he knows that there’s little chance he’ll have the patience to take her all the way upstairs, so, in just a moment of reprieve, he opts instead for the couch, not detaching himself from her form as he guided her there.
“c’mere, baby,” his voice is nothing over a whisper, but the licks of soft baritone grace it, making her immediately oblige, allowing him to pull her onto his spread legs over the couch cushions, the movie behind them providing a quiet ambiance, doing little to disguise the sounds of her soft gasps, and his rough exhales, as he eases her sweater off, pulling her chest into his fervent lips.
she can’t help the buck of her hips as his teeth pull as the supple skin of her chest and breasts, and she can feel his smile against her when he feels the grind of her hips over his. he can sense her desperation pique as he continues, so, taking hold of her back, he’s quick to set her down against the couch.
she’s a little shocked by the action, rising up on her elbows to see him beginning to unbutton her jeans.
“take these off for me, sweetheart,” it’s not a question anymore, and she finds her hands working faster than her brain can, sliding the fabric off her thighs and calves in one swift motion. he helps her the rest of the way, doing little to hide his fixation on her anticipating expression. when he’d finally removed the offending clothing, he looked down at her, taking her ankles in his hands and placing them over his shoulders. he doesn’t break eye contact, allowing her ragged breathing to be the only discernible noise to his ears as he lowered down towards her thighs.
she can feel the tension in muscles dissipate - though not entirely - when his lips finally make contact with her inner thigh, pulling her up by her hips just a bit to place her in a more favorable position to him. he kisses up the soft flesh of both her thighs, doing a immensely annoying job of teasing her just right.
“joel - joel, please.” she’s not ashamed to beg after the third time his lips choose to press against the corner of her panties, before swiftly switching to her other thigh.
“hmm? whad’ya want me to do sweetheart? wanna le’me taste this pretty pussy?” his casual tone is overshadowed by the nature of his words, and she feels her stomach churn at the direct statement. she can’t do much but nod, light ‘please, please - please!’s tumbling off her lips. it’s enough for him, though, finally obliging her as he pulls the fabric of her underwear to the side, letting a slight chill graze her exposed cunt, causing her to shiver.
when she feels his tongue lightly trace a circle over her clit, the tension of her muscles crash, making her let out a long, low, shaky exhale. it’s not a moment of reprieve, though, as his assault quickens, his tongue meandering over her slit with a passion - renewing that tension, though now in her core.
his pace switches between quick and languid at a moment’s notice, causing her body to be unable to release the tension in time, but to rather hold onto it for longer, staving off her orgasm with precision as his thumb pulls lightly at the apex of her cunt, putting pressure on - but not quite on - her clit as his tongue experimentally dipped in and around her dripping entrance.
he begins to speed up again, and it manifests in moans and whimpers spilling from her lips as she attempts to place a hand over her loud mouth, though, when he slows down for the umpteenth time, he heard a garbled sound fall from her instead.
“fuck - joel, please, don’t fucking tease!” her frustration had gotten the better of her, and it only increased when she felt him smile against her cunt.
“tell me what ya want, baby.” she swallows roughly, her thighs tensing just slightly against his head, before she lets out a shaky breath.
“please - please, let me cum.” for a moment, he doesn’t move, and she wants to scream at his lack of action, but that’s until she feels his clloused fingers against her thigh.
his mouth reattaches to her cunt, alternating between short, quick licks and sucking, as he eases two of his fingers into her, with little resistance. the added sensation against her walls makes her toes curl, her moans only growing louder.
her orgasm, already impending, suddenly feels as if it’s been increased tenfold by the drag of his fingers against a specific soft spot inside her, the movement of them in and out of her allowing them a way to find that spot each time. that, accompanied with his mouth’s renewed focus on her clit, makes her want to scream, and she does, as the tightened sensation in her stomach snaps, the tension building to her orgasm releasing with an aggressive sensitivity.
her moans are broken as he helps her through the feeling, continuing to slowly pump his fingers inside her, only stopping for a moment when he felt her thighs squeeze her with the might of a guinness strongman.
as she comes down from the sensation, she attempts to place her hands over her warm face, but he doesn’t let her, taking them off her to truly appreciate her flushed expression.
“good - good, really, really good-” she’s babbling quietly in an attempt to praise his effort, and it makes him laugh, rising up so that he can place a chaste kiss to her lips. she doesn’t allow it to be quick, though, allowing her mouth to indulge in the taste of herself, as opposed to continuing to mindlessly mumble. he groans at the action, not expecting her to be into it. pulling back to let her catch her breath, his lips flit over her neck, feeling her rapid heartbeat under the thin layer of skin, “joel, please - i-” she’s saying something, and it’s causing him to come back up to look at her.
though he can’t interpret it initially, when he feels the lazily roll of her hips against his again, he realizes what he wants, laughing lightly.
his laugh does little to quell her desire - instead, spurring it on, as her hands snake down his torso and towards the elastic of his sweatpants. he lets her hands work them down, pulling out his cock over the waistband of them, and gritting his teeth as her soft hand gently grips him.
“slow - fuck, slow down, there, baby-” she shakes her head adamantly.
“joel, fuck - i need you, now. right now.” she does little to disguise her thoughts, the small space between his cock and his cunt too much for her to think straight.
“’lright, sweetheart, ‘lrigt” he pulls his pants the rest of the way down, not removing her still, but exploratory hand, as, on her palm, rested his cock, her fingers grazing his inner thighs and balls. he props her up again, pulling her legs over his shoulders. though knowing she was definitely wet enough to accommodate him, it doesn’t stop her from spitting into her fingers, coating the tip of him in the makeshift lubricant, before adjusting so that he rested against her.
he tapped the tip of her cock over her clit, if for no reason other than to hear her squeak just one more time, before dragging himself down, and pushing in. she fights her urge to close her eyes at the sensation, wanting to really see him, but the feeling of it was almost too much, and she bit down on her tongue to keep quiet.
“don’t hide y’r sounds fro’me, sweetheart, let’t out, babygirl, let it out.” his accent’s thick in her ear as his hips meet her ass, and the soft order makes her mouth fall open, a low, quiet moan befalling her as she adjusted to the size of him. he practically filled every crevice inside her, the warmth of him enough to make her overheat as she tried not to focus on the increasingly sensitive feeling of his cock just lightly grazing against that one spot inside her.
“joel - move, god, i need you to move.” he doesn’t hesitate, pulling out slowly, the drag of his cock making her breath ragged. then, when he pushes back in, it’s just a bit harsher, owing to her squeaking.
“feel good, baby?” he mumbles it right into her ear as he thrusts in and out of her, his pace teetering between slow and aggressive, as if he were holding back.
“so - so good, joel, fuck, you make me feel so - good-!” she’s cut off when he readjusts and begins hitting another angle inside her, amplifying the feel of him significantly.
“that’s the spot, isn’t it, sweetheart? ya gonna be a good girl and scream for me?” he doesn’t even have to ask her, as her moans become unabashedly loud at the intensity of his new thrusts. the spur him to move just that bit faster, owing to her hands wildly grasping at his arms in an attempt to ground herself against the overwhelming sensation.
it doesn’t take long for that reignited tension in her core to beg for release.
“fuck, joel - i’m gonna cum, can i cum? please let me cum, please?” she’s begging him to keep going just like he is, and the honeyed pleas sound like the sweet music to his ear.
“that’s right, sweetheart, go ahead - cum all over me.” the approval pushes her over the edge, her legs shaking violently as her fingers dig into the muscle of his forearms. he want to slow down so as to not overstimulate her, but the feel of her pulsing walls wills him over the edge as well, pushing into her just a few more times, “whered’ya want me, baby?” he’s not sure if she’s able to answer him, but the lazy, gesturing hands towards her torso seem indication enough, as he pulls out of her, stroking himself to completion and spilling over the heaving skin of chest.
for a minute or two, they both catch their breath, before she feels him detach from her. she can hear his light footsteps into another room, and then the sound of a tap, before he reemerges with a damp towel. she’s sure she raises her hand to take it off him, but he ignores it, instead running the damp cloth over her himself. first, he cleans his own mess off of her chest, before lightly pressing at the flesh of her thighs and cunt, trying very hard not to stimulate her farther. the gentleness of his actions seems very joel miller-esque, she thinks, but not exactly akin to the man he’d been for the past few months.
she takes the towel when he’s done, returning the favor, before she speaks.
“didn’t think we’d do this again.” he winces at the implication of her words, stilling her movements as he pulls her cheeks to look up at him.
“i - i know, and i’m real sorry, sweetheart. ya know that, right?” she cups the hand against her face, smiling softly.
“of course i do. you think you’ll tell me why?” she wasn’t mad - just curious.
“i -” he trails off, before shaking his head, a humorless laugh escaping his lips, “why’d you think, baby? m’too old f’r ya.”
for a moment, she’s not sure she heard him right.
“what?”
“c’mon. you’re this gorgeous young woman - new to the neighborhood and everything. shouldn’t end up with someone like me. people’d talk.” she adjusts so that she’s closer to eye-level with him, taking both his hands.
“i don’t give a shit what other people say, joel - god, all anyone should care about is what i actually want.”
“but-” he goes to disagree, but she cuts him off with a soft kiss to his lips.
“i want you, joel miller. you’re the only person i want - i don’t give a shit about if you’re a little older, or my neighbor - anything like that.” he finally raises his eyes from the floor to look at her. the earnest expression on his face makes his resolve crumble, his contemplative expression morphing into a small smile.
“ya want to spend your nights me, then?” she rolls her eyes.
“and my mornings, afternoons and evenings.” the admission of them as so much more than just the fuck-buddy status that they currently have makes him grip her just a little tighter - a show of his affection, “really, our only problem is telling the girls.”
joel thinks about that upcoming challenge, wincing.
“that’s f’r t’morrow. tonight’s about you, sweetheart.”
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multifandoms27-blog · 2 years
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Hugs! | Rengoku x gn!Reader
I've been dealing with a lot recently and I wanted comfort
• ───────────────── •
Content: Kyojuro Rengoku x gn!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of injuries, self doubt
Notes: Reader is shorter than Rengoku, also this is me projecting a fuck ton lol
• ───────────────── •
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Sighing to yourself, you gently lowered your arms, your training sword in hand. On your last mission, the demon nearly killed you. You had been careless and cocky, and vowed to train more as a result. Earlier this morning, Shinobu had allowed you to return to Rengoku's home, deeming your injuries to be healed.
Kyojuro was currently out, he had been all day. You were glad he couldn't see you in this state. The last mission drained you of your, admittedly false, confidence. You seemed deflated, and you definitely felt that way too.
When you were recovering in the butterfly mansion, Kyojuro obviously visited you every day, but Shinobu had strict visiting hours set so you could rest quicker. It was easy to mask your emotional turmoil for the hours Kyo visited, you just hoped you could keep it masked until your emotional wounds healed too.
However, it might prove to be impossible. No matter how hard you trained today to get your mind off of the mission, your near death experience replayed over and over in your head. It was exhausting, and you just wanted to curl up and sink into the floor. Sghing again, you pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to find some motivation deep within you to train again.
Finding none, you sigh for the third time before deciding to put your wooden sword up for the day.
"Sunflower! You're back!" Rengoku yelled from behind you.
Goig stiff, you turned to look at him. He seemed so happy...you couldn't possbly dim his light. Forcing a smile on, you gave a tired wave. Kyojuro was carrying bags full of food, careful not to drop them as he quickly trotted towards you.
"I would hug you, but I am currently carrying our meals for the next month! I thought Shinobu would have told me you were coming home today." Kyo then leans closer. "Did you break out of the butterfly mansion, sweetheart?"
That did genuinely make you chuckle. "No, Kyo. I told Shinobu to keep it a surprise is all."
Kyo smiled wider, if that was possible. He then kissed you on the forehead. "Well, this is the best surprise I have ever gotten. Now, come! I'm sure you're hungry, I will start on dinner right away!"
Kyojuro trotted inside, and you let your face drop before following him. Placing your sword on the wall to rest, you let out the fourth sigh within the hour.
"What's with that sad sigh, my darling?"
Turning, you see Kyo once again in the doorway. Instead of happiness, his face was laced with sorrow and concern. It hurt your heart.
"Nothing, Kyo. I'm fine." You put on another smile.
Kyojuro let out a sigh of his own before approaching you. He wrapped his strong, warm arms around you, pressing his equally strong and warm body against you. Sitting in surprise for a moment, you glanced at him, only being able to see his hair in your face.
"Why are you so sad, sunflower? Did something happen today?" Kyojuro asked.
"No...no, I'm fine." You slowly slid your hands up his sides, over his back, and encased him in your own warmth. "I promise, Kyo."
"That is an empty promise, my love. If you do not wish to tell me about it, that's fine. Just please know I am here for you, and you can tell me when you're feeling down. I will not think any less than you."
Kyojuro gave you a little squeeze for a prologned period of time before pulling away slightly. He still held you in his arms as he gazed down at you.
"Would you like to make dinner with me? Would that help you feel better?" Kyo gave you a beaming smile.
A few moments pass before his contagious smile spread to your face. You give a nod to him. "Sure, Kyo. I'd like that."
Kyojuro's smile grew brighter, if possible, before he planted a big smooch on your lips. "Alright, then let's start right away, sunshine!"
Kyojuro dragged you behind him. "Didn't you already start it?"
"I lied!"
He pulled you into the kitchen where he pressed a kiss to your temple. "I love you, (Y/n)."
"I love you too, Kyo." You smiled.
Training after a failed mission was hard, dealing with your own self doubt was hard, but suddenly everything seemed...not so hard when Kyo was around. As Kyojuro started to boil water in a pot, you moved to hug him from behind.
"Oh! Sunflower?"
"Thank you, Kyo. I love you." You squeezed him a little bit.
"I love you too, little flame." He smiled, moving to hug you once more.
Yeah...with Kyo trapping you in his arms, everything seems to be so much better and brighter.
• ───────────────── •
Here is my Masterlist in case you want to request, or look for more of your favorite character!
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the-bar-sinister · 7 days
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Bound but at a Distance (1454 words) by thesavagesabretooth Chapters: 1/1 Additional Tags: Family Feels, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Post-Canon, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort
The secret comes out.
-
September 29, 2028– 1:30 pm
It would have been a typical lazy Saturday at the Wright Anything Agency, except that everyone was getting ready for a wedding tomorrow that Trucy, sadly, didn't have an invitation to. Athena was out with Maya and Ema shopping for dresses, and Trucy had the run of the office with her daddy.
“I can’t believe I wasn’t invited to that wedding, daddy.” Trucy was complaining for the fourth time that morning as she flipped through the office mail. She’d pouted when she slumped in for breakfast. She’d sniffled when Maya, Athena and Ema headed out. She’d stomped through her practice routine.
She was understandably, in her own opinion, pretty upset that she was the only one getting left out of the stupid Sprocket Airship Wedding part three.
"Sorry, kiddo," Phoenix murmured as he looked over he shoulder at the letters in the inbox. "I tried, but all I got was the invite and the plus one. It's gonna be a boring party anyway– they're on the third one after all."
“But this is the first one where they don’t got an evil butler stinking the whole thing up!” Trucy flopped onto her back with a whine. “It’s got an airship, daddy! An Airship! They coulda had me an’ the bunnies do a show a mile in the air or something!”
"I already gave them your card, Trucy," he chuckled, patting her on the shoulder. "Who knows, maybe they'll call you for wedding number four. Hey– any mail from Apollo, today?"
“How many weddings can she possibly have? Save some for the rest of us, jeeze.” Trucy grumbled. She flipped through the last of the mail hopefully, and she bit her lip. “I dunno…nothin’ yet…“he’s been sending less and less lately.” 
Phoenix sighed. "He sure has, huh? Starting to feel like he's on the moon…"
Trucy’s sour feelings about not being invited to the wedding were small in comparison to the turmoil that roiled inside her when Apollo Justice was brought up. It’d been months now that he’d been gone, had promised to write, and that he’d still be a part of their lives even if he was staying in the mountains far away.
It’d been several weeks since she’d even gotten a letter. It was like he was vanishing before her eyes, and eventually it’d be months or even years, or long enough that she couldn’t remember his face. Just like with her original daddy, or her mother.
“...he might as well be,” she muttered as her shoulders started to shake. 
Phoenix put his arms around her daughter's shaking shoulders. "Hey… hey, Trucy, it's alright. He's not going to be gone forever."
Trucy sniffed, and wiped at her eyes, surprised to find that she’d already started to cry. “He’s gonna forget about us, daddy.” 
"No way, Trucy," Phoenix shook his head. "There's no way he could, you know?"
His hand searched for the tissue box on the desk, and pulled a few out, offering them to her.
Trucy snatched the tissues and pressed the whole bundle to her face. 
“He super could, daddy! I mean…I mean…he’s got a whole new life there with family an’ everything.” She sniffed. “Why’d he wanna think about us? We messed up his law career…made him clean toilets…I shoulda been nicer and not dragged into my sh-shows!” 
He stood there with his hand on her back for a long moment, and took a deep breath. "It's not like that, Trucy. Apollo… has family here too."
“N-nuh uh, daddy!” Trucy wiped her eyes with a loud sniffle. “we woulda known if he did!” 
He passed her another tissue and hesitated. "Trucy, there's something I need to tell you. I've wanted to tell you for a while, but I didn't have permission."
Trucy took the tissue with a puzzled frown as she tried to wipe her eyes and nose. 
“W…what kinda thing, Daddy?” She tilted her head to the side , and her eyes focused instinctively. Whatever this was…she didn’t want to have to catch her adopted father in a lie. 
"When I say Apollo has family here…" He began slowly. She could see how tense he'd become. "I mean you, Trucy."
Her eyes traced over him…she didn’t see any nervous twitch or tell aside from the tension, and she felt her own body tense in surprise as she took a sharp intake of breath.
“W-w-w…what?”  He had to have still been joking, even if she didn’t register a single lie. Sure, there’d been clues…they’d always been so much alike, after all. They even had the same funny little cowlicks…but, lots of people did.
It was common. 
Her daddy held her shoulder gently, but firmly, and took a breath. "He's your brother, Trucy. Your half brother."
“......” Trucy’s brow furrowed, before she felt tears burning at the back of her eyes again. “he’s…he’s…he’s my half brother? W-whatta you mean? Daddy didn’t have any other kids!” 
"Your mother did."
“....” Trucy’s world was spinning around her as her tears brimmed in the corner of her eyes. “Mommy had another kid…and it was frickin’ APOLLO JUSTICE, Daddy??? And you KNEW?” 
HIs hands flew up in defense. "Hey, hey, hey! I was sworn to secrecy, kiddo!"
“By WHO!!! Mommy’s DEAD and it’s not like Uncle Valant would care!” She pressed her hands to her face. “was it daddy? Before he got killed? Was it Apollo? Did Apollo know?? “
"Apollo doesn't know," Phoenix said. He rubbed his hands together anxiously for a moment, and then he slowly put his hands on her shoulders. "And it was your mother, Trucy. She isn't dead."
Trucy’s entire world was shaking around her. The fundamental truths of her life surrounding the many secrets and magic tricks that made up her past. ’Your mother was killed in a magic accident’ and ‘your father left you because he had to vanish after the trauma of her death and Magnifi’s grand inheritance scheme’ and ‘you have no family left except the family you made’...
They were all pulled away in one of the weirdest magic acts of her life.
“.....momma isn’t…dead…?” 
"She's not dead," he repeated. "You've met her. She swore me to secrecy."
Trucy sniffed again. 
“You’re kidding me…it…it…” she rubbed at her eyes. “It’s someone I know??”
"Kind of," Phoenix murmured. He squeezed her shoulders again, holding her close. "It's Lamiroir, Trucy. She's your and Apollo's mother. It's.. a long story."
“....Lamiroir” Trucy repeated dully. “Famous songstress Lamiroir…who sent me flowers for my big show. And she swore you to secrecy because Justitia forbid me and Apollo know we’re brother and sister.” 
She fell against her father with a squeaky, tear-muffled wail.
"Oh, kiddo…" Phoenix held her tightly, scooping her hat off her head, and leaning his cheek against her hair. "I wanted her to tell you both right away."
Trucy tried to respond, but she hiccuped and choked on her tears and held him tighter.
“B-but…but if I’d known I…he…we..” she stammered out with a wail. “I joked about marrying him to Mr. Dhurke! We PROBABLY shoulda known before that, huh?? And n-now my only brother in the world is gonna forget about me in the m-mountains, thinking I’m just an an-an…annoying co-worker!!!” 
Phoenix squeezed her. "Truce– honey, I don't think Apollo thinks of you as just an annoying coworker. Not at all. I would have told him before he left, but I only just got permission to say anything. We'll write him a letter, okay?"
“A letter??” Trucy thumped her fists against his shoulder, “daddy a letter’s not gonna cut it!!” 
He winced, and ran his fingers through her hair. "A phone call, then. Okay? Next time we can get ahold of him."
Trucy sobbed into his shoulder. “...Geeze…my brother. My-...my big brother Apollo…and momma too? I…I think I’m gonna pass out.” 
"Try to stay conscious, okay, bug?" He held her tightly. "I know it's a big shock. I'll get ahold of your mom soon and you two can have a long talk. She owes you, big time."
“Y-you can say that again!!!” Trucy sniffled. “every family I’ve ever had has vanished on me, daddy! And …and Momma owes me BIG TIME for this.”
"She sure does," he nodded. "But hey– you know I'm not going to vanish on you, right, Trucy? Not ever."
Trucy sobbed into his shoulder. 
“Y-you better not, daddy.” Her heart sank just thinking about it, and she couldn’t stop the tears anymore. “Please don’t, ever. No matter what.” 
Phoenix pulled her tight and held her while she cried. "I promise, kiddo. I promise."
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Text
Weekend WIP Game
Thank you for tagging me @welcometololaland @alrightbuckaroo and @lemonlyman-dotcom!
Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more).
WIP List:
I have A LOT of ideas. As for things that are actually in progress, I have 4:
TK Project: My project for TK Strand Turns 30. I've been working on this for a few weeks now and should be wrapping up either this weekend or early next week. I'm pretty happy with how it's turning out!
A special project that I'm not going to say anything more about here but will be posted in the first week of November.
TK Babe/Baby, a project using my comically large hoop that will feature quotes of every time TK calls Carlos babe or baby--this one has a complete pattern, a hoop all ready to go, and even a single letter stitched in the center so I know where to start. I'll probably start working on it in earnest over the holidays.
Lone Star Christmas Ornaments--so far I've created one pattern for "Catan is spicy." I want to make at least 2-3 other ones.
Then I also have a variety of ideas, some fairly concrete, others vague notions that require more development and simply exist in a list in the notes app on my phone:
Wise Ass/Lollipop--a Gwyn quote from 2x01, heavily inspired by suggestion from @lemonlyman-dotcom--I haven't made the pattern yet, but it's pretty much fully formed in my head.
The third in my Loft Series--so far I've done one involving the bedroom and one involving the dining area. The third will be the same level of detail as the dining area one but involve the loft entrance, couch, table behind the couch, etc. I need a quote for it and I'm thinking possibly "Welcome home, TK" but I have a couple other ideas too. This pattern will likely take a few hours to create and it's something I'm excited to get working on either in November or maybe during the time off I have at the end of December.
A Carlos Project that would be a companion piece to my current TK Project. I have a list of ideas for it on my phone, but that's as far as I've gotten.
A Lou the First cross stitch with the quote "You brought a flesh-eating reptile into our home?!"
Another Lou one that's kind of ridiculous but I would love to do it if I could pull it off. It would be "He wasn't eating it. He was just...hanging out" with a little Lou poking out of a leg 😂
The fourth in my Loft Series--I want something involving Carlos' punching bag and TK's salad from 3x11. That's as far as I've gotten.
Then I have a variety of quotes that just feel like they should be cross stitches but I haven't thought of solid ideas to go with them (and if anyone has ideas, I would love to hear them!):
Marjan's quote "I'm allergic to poor leadership."
Judd's quote "I wasn't even me 'til I met you."
"Hi. You're TK. I'm Carlos. And we're soulmates." (this one is part of the TK Project, but I think it also deserves its own)
"If I'm your friend from work, then what we did this morning was very unprofessional."
"When you're in yoga clothes, I'm not a very good talker."
"In this house, we Catan."
"Tyler, can I say yes now?"
2. Which WIP is your most complex?
Of the ones I'm actively working on, the TK Project is the most complex. Of the planned future WIPs, it would probably be the third in the loft series, as it's intended to have the same level of detail as the loft dining area piece I recently finished. That one was definitely the most complex I've done up until this point.
3. Do any of your WIPs involve you using a technique/style that you haven't used before? What inspired you to try it?
The ones I've listed really don't, but I do have some vague ideas of branching out into some Lone Star embroidery. I'd need to come up with the right idea for it, but it's something I might try working with when I have time off over the holidays.
4. Which WIP do you expect will take you the longest?
Of the ones I'm actively working on, TK Babe/Baby will definitely take the longest. It will probably take at least 4-5 weeks to complete once I really get going with it.
5. Which WIP are you finding the most enjoyable to create?
I'm really loving the TK Project. It's made up of a bunch of little images and quotes, so it's really fun to see it come together as I complete each individual section.
6. Do you have a favourite character to draw/stitch/paint/depict? Are they in many of your WIP projects?
The majority of my projects are TK/Carlos/Tarlos related due to the fact that I often think of little else.
7. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?
The loft entrance/third in my Loft Series definitely gives me the most self-doubt. Mostly because it will be a detailed pattern. I'm still fairly new to pattern creation on that level.
8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of creator's block?
I haven't had any stitcher's block yet, thankfully. I've been stitching non-stop since April and, as I've made clear here, I still have more ideas than I can handle!
9. Do any of your WIPs contain characters outside the main ship? How are you finding creating those?
My first two projects were the Lone Star logo and an Owen quote. Every other one, including the WIPs that I'm actively working on, has been TK/Carlos/Tarlos related. So I guess I don't branch out from that main ship much! I would like to in the future, and a couple on my ideas list do involve quotes from other characters.
10. What emotions are you hoping to convey through your WIPs?
Mostly the joy and love I experience through Lone Star and Tarlos.
11. Are there any features/details you are finding challenging in your WIPs?
A challenging element of TK Babe/Baby will be the use of the comically large hoop. It has a 23 inch diameter so I can only stitch with it while sitting on my bed because I need somewhere spacious to rest the hoop otherwise my arms get too tired.
12. Which WIP has the most complex shading/colouring?
Probably the loft entrance, the third in my Loft Series. The thing that I think will be the most challenging is the couch, particularly managing to show the shape and dimensions of it properly. I'm not sure how I'm going to get it to look right, but I'm looking forward to messing around with it with my pattern making software. I'm not particularly skilled or experienced with using color gradients to show shadows/dimensions, but I guess I'm going to have to learn!
13. Which WIP has the most complex background?
Same as the last answer, since pretty much the whole thing will be background.
14. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for?
Again, same answer. I want it to meet the expectations set by the loft dining area piece I recently finished. I was thrilled with how that one turned out, so I really hope I'll be equally satisfied with this one.
15. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?
I don't think I've ever dreamed about cross stitching. I spend so much time doing it that it seems like I would have by now, though.
16. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other art doesn't?
The TK Project involves several French Knots, which is a different type of stitch that can be very finicky. @reasonandfaithinharmony knows what I mean!
17. Are any of your WIPs commissions?
I haven't done any commissions so far. It's not something I'm necessarily opposed to, so if someone is interested, feel free to dm me and we can talk about it! I just have a lot of my own ideas to work through and cross stitch generally takes a pretty long time to complete, so anyone looking for commissions would need to be ok with waiting a while. Also, I might be willing to mail some of my previously finished pieces to anyone who's interested (due to the unfortunate cost of shipping, this is probably going to have to be limited to people in the US and Canada). There are some that I'm not willing to part with, but I think I've almost reached display capacity, even with many finished projects stored in a box under my bed, so it might be nice for some of the others to find a home.
18. Do you have a character that is more difficult to draw/stitch/paint/depict? Are they in many of your WIP projects?
The majority of my projects so far have been centered on quotes. I don't think any one character is more or less difficult to depict in that way. However, I have run into one issue like that...one of my future ideas is for a Carlos Project that's a companion to my current TK Project. I'm finding it a lot more difficult to come up with ideas for little images and quotes to represent Carlos than it was for TK. One problem might be that I'm reluctant to go stitching a bunch of cop imagery.
19. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.
The stitched portion of TK Babe/Baby will be about 16 inches x 15 inches in size.
If the third in the Loft Series is anything like the loft dining area piece, it will probably take me somewhere around 80-100 hours of work to complete.
I feel like everyone has been tagged, but I'm going to follow the directions and tag 11 people, one for each of my listed WIPs: @tellmegoodbye @ladytessa74 @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @carlos-tk @inkweedandlizards @rosedavid @thebumblecee @reasonandfaithinharmony @redshirt2 @louis-ii-reyes-strand @carlos-in-glasses
(And here's the original post that has the questions for writers if you need that!)
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bi-bats · 5 months
Note
just barely holding back from sending you the entire list lmaooo. once again, feel free to pick and choose
1, 3, 5, 15, 24, 37, 42, 54, 77, 85, 100, 129, 131
Bean, my beloved. Hello dear thank you for always coming through 💖
A book that is close to your heart
Vicious by V.E. Schwab. If I had to pick a favorite book, it's probably this one. My original copy of this book is SO fucked up lmaoo
3. A stand-alone that you wish was a part of a series
OH Wilder Girls by Rory Power. What a phenomenal fucking book. It had an open ending that left me satisfied, but also really thinking about what was going to happen and wishing that I knew. I still think about this book and I read it like... four years ago?
5. Something in fiction that reads like poetry
THIS IS HOW YOU LOSE THE TIME WAR BY AMAL EL-MOHTAR AND MAX GLADSTONE HOLY SHIT HOLY FUCK I FUCKING LOVE THIS BOOK AND I HAVE FOR A LONG TIME AND ITS ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BOOKS I'VE EVER READ I'M ABOUT TO READ IT FOR A FOURTH AND PROBABLY FIFTH TIME
15. A book rec you really enjoyed
The Watchmaker of Filigree Street by Natasha Pulley!! This book has something for literally everyone, I'm actually in the process of re-reading it because I didn't know it was a part of a series when I first read it and my therapist keeps telling me that the way that she puts the overall plot of the series together is one of the most interesting things he's ever read
24. A book on your nightstand
The Cabinet by Un-Su Kim, The Stepford Wives by Ira Levin, The Martian by Andy Weir, Vicious by VE Schwab, I'll stop there because I'm not typing out like 20 titles for this and I wish I was joking
37. Your favorite heist book
I'm actually not entirely sure that this counts, but Anxious People by Frederick Backman. I have a bunch of heist books that I want to read, but I haven't gotten around to yet. This is one of my all time favorite recs though! I love Frederick Backman fr he's such a great author
42. A book that made you want to scream by the time you got to the end
Lost Boy by Christina Henry oh my god. Ohhhh my god. Oh my sweet lord. Everything by Christina Henry is phenomenal, but this one in particular fucked me up. This was one of those books that leaves you feeling raw and hollow at the end. It will stomp on you. It will shred your heart. It will be worth it.
54. A book with the best opening line
Poison for Breakfast by Lemony Snicket. The opening line is literally "This morning I ate poison for breakfast." Full disclosure, if you go into that book expecting a full plot, you won't enjoy it as much. It's really a very wandery story without much plot, but I had a good time and normally I hate stuff like that. There's just something that's really so lovely about Lemony Snicket's way of writing though. Also, the audiobook is narrated by Patrick Warburton my beloved
77. A book so useless that you could use it as a coaster
Those We Drown by Amy Goldsmith. This is the only book I've ever given a zero star rating to. I've never read fanfiction as bad as this book. This is comparable to my wattpad writing when I was 12. Maybe worse. I wouldn't even use it as a coaster, because I returned it.
85. Your favorite book about magical realism
Right now it's probably Even Though We Knew The End by C.L. Polk. This book was so beautiful, and so quick, and the vibes of it were absolutely impeccable. It's a queer, noir, magical realism murder mystery. It was also slightly devastating, but in a really beautiful, hopeful, satisfying way.
100. Your favorite gothic novel
We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson. This is one of my favorite books of all time, and it's definitely my favorite haunted house story of all time! The plot is just phenomenal and Shirley Jackson is SO incredible. Also it's far superior to The Haunting of Hill House (which she also wrote)
129. A book with beautiful prose
Gallant by V.E. Schwab. She couldn't just have one book on this list. She's my favorite author by FAR. I just. kdfharughu. I don't know how she does it. There are always SO many banger lines in her books. The way she writes is just so. SO. Idk man. If you like my stuff, read her stuff, she's such a huge inspiration to me.
131. Recommend any book you like!
A Psalm for the Wild Built by Becky Chambers OR The Echo Wife by Sarah Gailey. Literally any book by either of them is phenomenal, but those are two of my favorites! They do have VASTLY different vibes though. A psalm for the wild built is like. a solar-punk utopian book about happiness and existence and success not being defined externally. And the echo wife is like. a sci-fi character study of two (three?) horribly fucked up people and also murder and also becoming the thing you fear the most and losing your humanity and rguahrgur. They're both amazing books though!
book rec ask game
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romanstheory · 2 years
Text
With You
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Characters : Kammi (reader), Jey Uso, Amour, Rikishi
Warnings : Fluff, Visuals, Smut, Dirty talk
Word Count : 1,036
Labor was long and hard, I was exhausted. Jey stayed by my side never resting. You know how you hear about dads being on their phones or asleep until it's time to push? Yeah, he was the opposite. His phone continued vibrating over and over but he paid it no attention. He rubbed my back, wiped my tears, and told me it would all be okay, that everything would be over soon and my pain would turn into the beauty of our daughter. He was right, all of the pain was worth it once I laid eyes on Amour our daughter. She looks just like Jey with a head full of dark hair. Seeing Jey melt as soon as he held her in his arms made me forget about everything that had just happened the night before. Jey cups her tiny feet in his big hands "They're so tiny" He says laughing.
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"I can't believe we made her" He says admiring Amour. We hear a knock at the door and then Jey's dad Rikishi peeks in. "Hey there new parents" He says before cackling and walking in. "Hey!" I say giggling. "Hey pops" Jey says with a smirk, never taking his eyes off of Amour. "Ohhhhh look at her!" Rikishi says walking closer to Amour and Jey. "Faʻafetai (congratulations) She's absolutely beautiful!" He continues. He is just as amazed as Jey is by her. I take this time to rest. After my nap my phone is blown up with congratulatory text messages. Another day passes and we're released from the hospital and headed home with another addition to our family.
Family circles through to visit the new baby and we're showered with gifts and food. Months pass and now it's time for Jey to go back to work. Normally I would be going with him, but for the first time I won't be. Amour is four months now, and I've gotten used to Jey being home. "Is it selfish that I don't want you to go?" I ask fighting tears. Jey sighs deeply before answering me "No because I don't want to leave you. The Bloodline doesn't have to be at every show and my new contract doesn't require me to do any dark matches" Jey explains "So I can be home more". Tears flow down my cheeks at the thought of him being away for a week or two at a time. "Aw baby don't do that" Jey says pulling me into a tight hug. "I promise I'll call every night"
Jey is a man of his word, if he says he's going to do something he'll do it. Part of me wonders how Jimmy will act now that Jey is going to be working alongside him and Roman again considering the fight they had the night I went into labor. "Roman says Jimmy hasn’t been himself" Jey says breaking the silence. "So he's NOT being an asshole?" I ask. "Nah he said he's been quiet" Jey continues "Like he's mourning or something". What could be possibly be mourning besides the death of two relationships he didn't give a damn about? I swear trying to figure him out is like solving a Rubik's Cube. One second he's hot the next he's cold, that's how he's been his entire life. You never know what Jimmy you're going to get that day.
"Just stay out of trouble okay?" I say softly. "Always" Jey says smirking. He softly grabs my face, pulling me into a soft passionate kiss
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All of my worries melted away in that moment, but they'll soon return when I drop Roman and Jey off at the airport in the morning. We give Amour a bottle and get her ready for bed. Jey rocks her back and fourth until she drifts off into a deep sleep. He looks at her as if she's the most precious thing this planet has to offer her. His eyes are full of love and joy watching her drift off to sleep in his arms. Jey lays her in her crib in the room before turning on her sound machine and closing the door.
He plops down on the couch next to me and gives me that look. The I want you look that got us a baby in the first place. The feeling was mutual, lord knows I always want him. I mean.... How could I not? I grab his hand leading him to our bedroom onto the bed. We quickly undress worried the baby may wake. Jey shifts his weight onto mine, forcing me to fall backwards onto the bed. He plants kisses on my neck and collarbones. His big fingers ease their way inside of me, curving and rubbing my g spot while he continues to kiss me. "You're wet already" He says, his voice deep with lust and anticipation.
His warm body hovered over me as he took his fingers out of me, sucking my juices off of his fingers. "I want you inside of me" I beg. Jey lets out a light chuckle before easing himself into me. I am immediately satisfied by his size inside of me. I wrap my legs around him helping push him all the way inside of me. He gives me passionate strokes, ensuring i'm enjoying every single stroke. "You like that?" He groans. "Yes!" I struggle through my moans. He continues giving me long, deep, passionate strokes. He was making love to me passionately. He leans in closer to me, pressing his lips onto mine, never stopping his strokes. Our warm bodies connected and moved together in synch. My climax is near, I can feel it. A few more strokes and I gasp loudly making eye contact with Jey as I reached my climax, while I grip his back like my entire life depended on it. Jey soon after pulls out and releases his warm seed onto my stomach, grabbing a shirt nearby after and wiping me off. We both shower and pass out for the night. While the sex was amazing, I was still not too happy about him leaving. But tomorrow is on it's way, so i'd better get some sleep while I can....
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stargazer-sims · 1 year
Text
Journal Entry #49 (part two)
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previously - Journal Entry #49 (part one)
Victor
After my appointment with Dr. Ishida, Mom and I grabbed some lunch and then went to the hospital to see Yuri. My visit with the eye doctor had gone way better than I'd anticipated, and she’d told me some things that'd taken me by surprise. I could hardly wait to tell Yuri everything that happened, and everything I'd learned from the doctor.
When we got to Yuri's room, he was sleeping. He's been sleeping a lot, so that didn't come as much of a shock. His body needs the rest, and even though the amount of sleep he's currently getting is induced by antibiotics, steroids and heavy-duty painkillers, I'm not too worried about it because I know it's helping him.
The thing that does concern me is how slowly he seems to be recovering. The last time he had an infection like this, the antibiotics had worked their magic in about three days. By the end of his fourth day in the hospital, he was able to sit up in bed by himself and swallow some water and a few mouthfuls of meal replacement drink on his own. This time, he's already been in the hospital for four days and they still have to hydrate and nourish him with tubes, and I don't think he's had the strength to sit up since he was admitted.
Mr. Okamoto was there when Mom and I arrived. With the benefit of my partially returned vision, I was able to see how drawn and weary he looked. If I hadn't known better, I might've even said he'd been crying. His eyes were red around the edges, as if he'd been rubbing at them, and there were pronounced dark smudges underneath.
I didn't draw attention to it. I just greeted him and asked how everything was going. He said Yuri had been awake around mid-morning, and they'd talked, but that he'd been in a lot of pain. He drifted off again after a nurse had given him more medication.
The way Mr. Okamoto said he and Yuri had talked made it sound like it hadn't just been meaningless small talk. I was dying to find out exactly what they'd talked about, but I knew better than to ask. It was unlikely my father-in-law would tell me anyway. Maybe Yuri would, when he was ready. It wouldn't do any good to ask him either.
I told Mr. Okamoto that I planned to stay for a while, if he wanted to go home for some food and a nap. He favoured me with a small smile that I could only describe as grateful, nodded, and said he'd be back around dinnertime.
That worked for me, because I needed to be home and fed before Sakura showed up in the evening. I could hardly wait to get Elsa back, as ridiculous as that likely sounds to some of you. I've been worrying incessantly that she'd gotten damaged in our flying tumble down the mountain, and I needed to inspect her for myself. Plus, I needed to tell Sakura about my doctor visit, and ask her if she'd been able to locate Seiji.
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Mom decided to leave a few minutes after Mr. Okamoto did. She said it didn't make any sense for her to sit there and watch Yuri sleep, and I agreed. I suggested that she and Julian should go and do some sightseeing or something to take advantage of a free afternoon.
"Ask Uncle Kaz," I said. "He knows all the best things to do in town, and he'd probably love to play tour guide."
"I think Julian wants to go to the onsen," she said. "The indoor one. He wasn't comfortable sitting outside in your yard."
"He knows you have to be completely naked at the public onsen, right?"
Mom looked amused. "I'll tell him."
Yuri and I go naked in our little private hot spring bath behind our house, following the age-old rules of social etiquette for hot springs even though we don't really have to. Our friends do as well, when they're at our place, and it's totally fine. Even in the public onsen, it's not embarrassing at all to be in the buff because nobody's really looking at anyone else, and everyone's too polite to say anything even if they were looking.
"He'll be okay," I said. "I don't want him to be caught off-guard when he gets there, that's all."
She nodded. "I'm sure he'll appreciate the heads-up."
"Have fun," I said. "And don't let Uncle Kaz fill your head with nonsense about local legends and stuff. If it sounds fake, it probably is."
"Good to know," she said. She gave me a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back to pick you up around five-thirty, okay?"
"Okay," I acknowledged. "See you later."
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Once Mom made her exit, I took my place next to Yuri's bed, in the chair Mr. Okamoto had been occupying a short time earlier. It wasn't the most comfortable chair, which I knew from having sat in it for hours each day this week, but I reminded myself that my situation could've been a lot worse. At least today I didn't have to hang out in Yuri's rooom with nothing to do but be alone with my own thoughts.
Today, I was able to use my phone. I sent another message to Seiji, which yet again went unanswered, and I spent some time exchanging texts with Fox, who's the only one of our friend group who doesn't currently have a job. He said he and Takahiro hadn't heard from Seiji for several days either. According to him, Taka evidently knew something about it, but for some reason he didn't want to tell Fox anything. That worried me. I didn't want to stress Fox out with my own anxieties, though, so I simply said I'd let him know if Seiji messaged or called me, and he promised he'd do the same if Seiji got in touch with him.
After chatting with Fox, I scrolled through the sports news. I knew there'd been at least two stories about my accident right after it happened because Yuri had seen them and told me. There might've been more, but I wasn't emotionally ready to know, so I didn't search for them. Instead, I looked at hockey scores from back home, watched some epic ski-jumping videos, and read a short article about some hotshot Canadian figure skater who’s training here in Japan now and absolutely owning the podium this season.
The guy’s a Korean-Canadian, judging by his name, and he’s apparently dating a J-pop idol. I didn't know how the bit about the boyfriend was supposed to have been relevant to the news story, but it was mildly interesting, so I decided to bookmark the article so I could read it to Yuri later. He loves J-pop, and he'd probably know who the skater’s boyfriend is.
Yuri would likely recognize the skater's name as well, now that I’m thinking about it. Figure skating is another thing he’s into. He likes looking at the fancy costumes, and undoubtedly also the men in those costumes, although he’d likely never admit that last part to me. I don’t blame him, though. I mean, I don’t care about figure skating all that much, but if it wasn’t already obvious, I kinda have a thing for delicate-looking men, especially the fair-skinned and dark-haired ones like Eden Seong, the skater in the news article.
Don't tell Yuri.
When I got tired of scrolling, I got up and walked around the room a few times. Even though I'm not technically cleared for exercise, I tried a few leg stretches. It felt good to work my muscles, even if only gently.
I was in the middle of a set of knee lifts when I heard the distinct rustling of starchy hospital blankets, and then a small, sleepy whine. Yuri always makes the cutest noises when he first wakes up. It's like he's offended that his consciousness has resurfaced and dragged him away from sleep.
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I immediately stopped what I was doing, crossed the room in a few quick strides, and resumed my seat.
"Hi," I greeted him. "Sleep well?"
Yuri peered blearily at me through half-closed eyelids. "Victor...?"
"The one and only," I said. "How are you feeling?"
He frowned adorably. "Is... is that a rhetorical question?"
"No. I really want to know."
"Better?" he said. "No, not really better... but, my pain's not too bad, and I don't feel like my brain is in a fog any more, so... that's something, I guess."
"Your fever's down. I'll bet that makes a difference."
"I wish I was better already," he complained.
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"I know you do." As carefully as I could, I brushed my fingertips through his hair and down along his temple and cheek. "Honestly, though, I'm just glad you're improving and that we can be together. I missed seeing you, my sweet boy."
"You... what?" he said. Then, as my words sank in, he reached up to put his hand over mine, and despite how pale and sick he looked, his face lit up with the most beautiful smile. His eyes met mine and he held my gaze. "Wait a second. Victor, are you saying... you can see me?"
“Yeah.” I was suddenly crying for the second time that day, and I wasn’t even bothered by it. "Talk about irony, right? On the day I saw the eye doctor and everything."
"That's amazing news. You have to tell me all about your appointment with the eye doctor."
“I will," I said. "I have a lot to tell you, but I just... I want to look at you for a while, first. You know, our picture on the nightstand was the first thing I saw when I woke up, and then I could hardly wait to see you in person."
“You’ve been sleeping in my bed.” It wasn't really a question. He knows me well enough to realize that's exactly what I'd been doing, just like I knew without him telling me that he'd slept in my bed when I'd been in the hospital.
“It's because I miss you,” I said. “I'm waiting for you to come home and sleep in your bed with me.”
His smile faltered a bit, and he pulled my hand away from his face. He didn’t let go of my fingers, though. “Your cast is scratching me,” he said quietly, sounding half-apologetic.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“I want to come home and share a bed with you again too, but it might be a few more days before I can. Maybe a week. I don't know.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll be here with you every day until then."
"You need to take care of yourself," he said. "You need to rest. You're still healing too."
"I'll be resting here," I told him. "What am I going to be doing besides sitting?"
"I saw you exercising."
"Uh... don't tell anyone you saw that."
"You're impossible, Victor," he said. "Don't do it any more until Dr. Sato says you can. Understand?"
I smiled. "Hey, here's a thought. If I stay here with you, then you can keep an eye on me and boss me around as much as you want."
"I'm being serious."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'll be good."
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"You'd better be," he said. He stirred uncomfortably, and then nodded toward something on the narrow, wheeled table near the bed. "Do you think you've got enough command of your fingers to use the bed controls? I think I'd like to sit up for a bit, but..."
"Are you allowed to sit?" I inquired.
"Nobody said I'm not allowed. Please? Just for a few minutes? We don't have to tell anyone."
Because I can almost never say no to him, I clumsily pressed buttons on the remote that controlled the elevation of the bed and eventually got it so that the head of the bed was at a comfortable angle for him. He wasn't quite sitting. It was more like reclining, but I reasoned it was better for him that way, since he didn't have to use any of his own power to hold himself upright. I was sure he was pleased to be in a position other than lying flat, like he'd been doing for the last several days.
When I asked if he was okay, he replied that he was. He reached for me again, and I let him curl his fragile little hand around mine.
We sat quietly for a few minutes after that. Yuri played with my fingers, slowly bending and flexing them as much as my casts would allow, and delicately massaging each one. I often let him do that, even before my accident. It feels good, not necessarily because of the movement, but more because he’s touching me by his own choice and doing it with such deliberate care.
I closed my eyes. “You’re so good at hand massages.”
“Do you like it?”
“Yeah. My fingers were stiff. I didn’t realize.”
“You’re not using them enough. Yes, I know you can’t,” he added, before I could point out the fact. “We’ll have to do this every day until you can.”
“You won’t hear me complaining.”
“Nor me,” he said, and then made a little noise of disapproval. “Bring moisturizer tomorrow, though."
"They're that bad?"
"They could be softer," he said. "Bring your nail clippers and file as well. If I’m feeling up to it, I’ll give you a manicure.”
I laughed at that. “A manicure? You really must be on the mend, if that's on your mind.”
"Bring your rings tomorrow too," he said.
"Do you think they'll fit now?"
"Hmm..." he hummed softly as he stroked the top of my ring finger. "I think so, and now you'll be able to see me put them on you."
"Can I put yours on you?" I asked.
"Mine are already on." He looked slightly bemused. “Besides, even if I took them off, how would you propose to put them back on without using your thumbs?"
"Well... you could just slide your rings down your fingers a bit, and then let me slide them back," I suggested. "Or maybe just that one." I gestured at his right hand, with the heavy gold band. "You know, the day we put those on was one of the happiest and the saddest at the same time? Like, being on a video call and watching you open the package and put your ring on yourself was really hard, 'cause I wished I could be there to put it on you. But, I was happy because of the promises we made."
"Me too," he said. "Both those feelings."
"So, can I...?"
He nodded slightly, and smiled in the sweet, shy way that never fails to melt my heart. "Yes, you can. In fact, I think I'd like that very much."
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