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#I'm sorry if you're here for Star Trek I'll be back to that soon
hopefulcanary · 1 year
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Clementine
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mamawasatesttube · 11 months
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“I know, I know, I’m stuck with you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” please!
"Thanks for coming on such short notice." Dick both looks and sounds harried, Bat-comm in hand as he ushers Kon in from the balcony. "I'll try to be back as soon as I can, but you never know with Arkham breakouts—also, there's some leftover chicken soup in the fridge, if he can keep that down it'll be great, and—yes, B, I'm on my way, I heard you the first seventeen times—sorry, Conner, it's a bit hectic, but—"
"Hey, man." Kon gives him a reassuring thumbs-up. "I got this. You go do your thing and let me wrangle the poor sickly scrunkle, yeah?"
Dick pauses on one leg, one shoe on, the other in hand. "The scrunkle?"
"Tim," Kon clarifies. "You know, 'cuz he's scrunkly."
"...I see," Dick says, not sounding like he particularly sees at all. But there's no time to explain; he flashes a quick grin, fires off a two-fingered salute, and calls one more "Thanks again!", and then he's gone.
Kon cocks his head and waits.
After seventeen seconds, the jingle bell he stuck to the outside of Dick's bedroom windowframe on his way in chimes, and he snorts to himself as he superspeeds right on over to the fire escape outside.
"Predictable, Rob," he says, lounging midair. Tim, staring at the bell in his hand with great prejudice, scowls; the effect is rather ruined by his adorable hot pink bird-printed pajamas. "You definitely have a fever if you fell for that one."
Tim folds his arms over his chest and glares at him. Coughs. Glares some more. "I don't need a"—cough, cough—"babysitter. I'm not that sick. Dick's just fussing."
Kon eases himself back in through the window, closes it against the night air, and presses his lips to Tim's forehead, ignoring the way Tim splutters. He's cute when he gets grumpy. "Mmm, well, that certainly feels like a high fever to me!"
"It's only a hundred and one," Tim mutters. And coughs again. Christ on a bike, he really sounds like death warmed over. The red flush to ohis face really isn't helping things, either.
Also. Christ on a bike? Really? Sheesh, Kon's spending too much time with Ma's friends on Bingo Sundays.
"Mm, yeah, so we're getting you back in bed," Kon informs him, and plucks him off the ground, sets him on his hip like the world's most disgruntled toddler, and carries him back over to Dick's bed, where he's clearly been being fussed over already, if the box of tissues, empty mugs, and cough drops are anything to go by.
"I'm not that sick!" Tim protests. Kon sees right through him, though; his wiggles of dissent are weaker than usual. "I can help. You heard Dick earlier, it's all hands on deck—"
"Which is why, if things get particularly dire, Dick already said he'll call me in," Kon says, and draws the blankets up over Tim's chest. "Seriously, Rob. The others have it in hand. And I," he grins, cupping Tim's face in his palms, "have you in hand."
Tim favors him with a very flat look, followed by a very pathetic sniffle. Oh, jeez, Kon wants to bundle him up and feed him soup and fuss over him forever. "Ha ha."
"I know, I'm hilarious." Kon squishes his cheeks before letting go. "Now, I'm gonna go get you some soup and your next dose of meds, and you're gonna stay right here in bed and not try any more escape attempts because you know I'm gonna catch you and bring you right back. And we are gonna watch your choice of 'Wendy', 'Star Trek', 'Star Wars', or 'Lord of the Rings', until you inevitably knock the fuck out because you are sick as hell, dude, and I do not mean in the Tony Hawk way. Got it?"
Tim heaves a weary, put-upon sigh that just sends him into another coughing fit; it sounds rough and scratchy and painful just to hear, and Kon winces in sympathy, leaning over to rub his back. Aw, Tim...
"I guess I can live with that," Tim rasps, his eyes watering. Kon is seized by the urge to kiss his forehead again, properly this time; he wants to take care of him so bad.
"Good! 'Cuz you don't get a choice." Kon gently ruffles his hair, eases him back against his pillows, and then tuts softly to himself and strokes the hair back from Tim's sweaty forehead. His poor Rob...
"Yeah, I know, I know. I'm stuck with you." Tim sighs again, closing his eyes. After a moment, though, he smiles ever-so-slightly, his eyelashes dark against his pale cheeks. "...I wouldn't have it any other way."
That's gotta be the fever talking—it's true, and Kon knows it's true, but Tim wouldn't just say it like that—but it makes Kon's heart flutter all the same.
He leans down and kisses Tim's forehead before he can lose his resolve. "Right back at'cha, Rob," he says, smiling. "Now lemme go get you your soup."
"Good luck," Tim mumbles, opening his eyes just slightly. "Don't fall in, have fun, et cetera..."
Kon laughs. "Will do," he says, and stands to leave.
(It's not until he's waiting in front of the microwave that he realizes: since the moment he left Tim's side, he's been—quite literally—walking on air.)
50 Prompts About Devotion
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roosterforme · 1 year
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The Gift Exchange I Top Gun Dagger Squad edition
Summary: The Dagger squad celebrates Christmas with their annual gift exchange.
Warnings: Fluff, humor, adult banter
Length: 1000 words
Pairing: a mention of Rooster x girlfriend
Masterlist for more fun
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It was Christmas Eve, and time for the annual Secret Santa gift exchange before everyone dispersed to spend Christmas Day with their families. The Dagger squad met up at Bob's house with bottles of wine, along with their gifts. 
"Welcome! Happy Holidays!" Bob greeted all of the aviators as they arrived. His jolly Santa hat was perched on his head. "Drinks and snacks are in the kitchen."
Phoenix kissed his cheek, making him blush, before she and Fanboy made their way to the kitchen.
"Should we raise the limit on how much we're allowed to spend on gifts for next year?" Phoenix asked, opening a bottle of wine. "Twenty bucks doesn't really seem like a lot when I always end up having to buy something for the most high maintenance one of you."
"Oh, you got Hangman?" Fanboy asked, pouring himself a glass of wine.
"Of course I got Bagman. I get him every year!" Phoenix complained. "Who did you get?" 
"Coyote," Fanboy whispered to her. "And I never know what to get for him!"
Rooster and Payback wandered into the kitchen, grabbing drinks from the fridge. "Bob wants to open presents soon," Rooster said. "But I told him I'm going to need a few drinks first. This gift exchange never ends well."
"For real," Payback chimed in. "Why do we even do it?"
"To celebrate the spirit of Christmas! Ho Ho Ho!" Bob exclaimed. "Let's all go into the living room and exchange gifts!"
"Fine," Phoenix agreed, grabbing her expertly wrapped gift and taking it in. She sat on the floor between Rooster and Coyote, and she chugged her glass of wine. 
"Last year, Coyote got me deodorant," Payback said. "The gifts this year couldn't be as bad as that."
"You needed it," the others all said in unison, but Payback just rolled his eyes. 
"I'll go first!" Bob said, cheerfully handing a red and silver wrapped gift covered in glitter to Fanboy. "Merry Christmas!"
Fanboy took the gift with a smile. "Thanks, Bob," he said as he unwrapped it. But then his smile turned to a frown. "How many times do I have to tell you guys... I like Star Wars! Not Star Trek!" 
"Sorry, I don't actually know the difference..." Bob said with a grimace. 
Fanboy held up the Klingon action figure. "Oh well, I can probably glue on some felt and turn him into a Wookiee. Here, Coyote."
He tossed a gift bag to Coyote, and a plunger fell out onto his lap. "Seriously? It was just that one time, man!"
"You broke the damn toilet," Rooster said. "The locker room has never been the same."
"Yeah," Hangman agreed. "Great gift for you, honestly."
"Whatever," Coyote groaned, setting the plunger down and passing a gift to Payback. "Merry Christmas," he mumbled.
"Thanks," Payback said, unwrapping a pair of sunglasses. "Dude, I gave these to you for your birthday."
Coyote just shrugged. "I guess they actually are better than a plunger. Wanna trade?"
"No, thank you," Payback said, passing a box of condoms to Phoenix. "Sorry, I didn't have wrapping paper."
"What am I supposed to do with these?" she asked, cautiously taking the box from him. Rooster and Hangman were absolutely cracking up. 
Payback just gaped at her. "Uh, have sex without getting pregnant?"
"I'm dating a girl, dickhead," she replied, looking around at the dumbest group of men she had ever seen. 
"Ohhh, right. Right," Payback said, suddenly understanding his error. "Well if you don't want them, I'll take them."
"Sure, whatever," Phoenix mumbled, handing the condoms back to him. "Here Bagman, this is for you."
Hangman carefully tore into the gold and green paper, smiling brilliantly when he held up the gift Phoenix got for him. "A Malibu Ken doll! Looks exactly like me! Thanks, Phoenix!" 
"You're welcome," she replied with a smirk, pouring some more wine. 
Hangman procured a wrapped box from behind his back and passed it to Rooster. "Now, Rooster, I did have to go above the twenty dollar limit, but your girlfriend was begging me to get this for you." He was already laughing before Rooster even opened it.
Rooster looked at him with narrowed eyes as he unwrapped the box revealing an enormous purple dildo. "She did not ask you to buy this!" Rooster took it out and waved it around, and the others joined in with Hangman's laughter. "Nobody needs nine inches!"
Hangman and the others were still laughing when Rooster passed Bob his gift.
"Merry fucking Christmas," Rooster said, still brandishing the dildo at anyone who dared to laugh.
"Did you get me a 5-pack of beer?" Bob asked Rooster. "What happened to the sixth one?"
Rooster shrugged. "I got thirsty earlier."
Bob timidly asked, "Doesn't anyone here remember that I don't drink?" 
"Oh, right. Well, hand them right back, my friend," Rooster told him, and he sat cradling the 5-pack and the dildo in his arms. "I'll take care of them for you."
"Why do we even bother doing this?" Phoenix asked. "We could all just go out for burgers together or something with our twenty dollars."
"It's the season for giving!" Bob tried to say, but everyone else just stood and started gathering up the gifts. He felt his smile falter a bit, feeling a little sad that he was the only one who loved the annual gift exchange. 
But Bob watched as everyone shared a hug, genuinely wishing each other a happy holiday. 
"Have fun with your nephews!"
"See you at the Hard Deck on New Year's Eve?"
"Bring some of that homemade pie back from Lemoore."
"Make sure you hug your mom for me!"
"Merry Christmas, Bob!" Everyone called as they left his house.
His heart felt full as he cleaned up the wrapping paper, wine glasses, and the purple dildo.
----------------------
Thanks for reading! Happy Holidays!
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wordstrings · 2 years
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Message answering time!
@unluckiestwrench asked:
Ever think of starting a Discord for the TFB community?
I haven't, mostly because Discord isn't something I've had a lot of experience with. I know a number of others have started various tickling-related servers, but I haven't sought any of them out or know if they're still running. (I'm happy to share info if anyone knows of any!) I do have Discord, though – you can find me at strings#9017.
Anonymous asked:
😊 how are you doing today? - 🦋
I'm doing very nicely, thank you! And I was doing nicely back when you asked, too (like eight weeks ago). Just haven't been prioritizing Tumblr for a bit. I've been trying to make progress through my watchlist backlog, which has included a lot of Lucifer, Critical Role, and Star Trek.
Anonymous asked:
Hey strings, you should do more art!! You're really really talented and you should draw more on your blog outside of tickletober!! I know I'd heart each one because oh my God your art is just so cute and flustering-💜
Thank you! I had fun doing all the Tickletober pieces (masterlist here). Art makes the rounds so much more easily than fic; the top note-grabbers in that batch easily outperformed my typical note count by 10x. I do have some stray ideas floating around for other artwork, though writing is still where my passion lies so don't expect me to stop anytime soon. :)
(All my drawings are filed under #strings does art.)
Anonymous asked:
would you make tickling pictures on an animated movie?
Animation is beyond my current skills, I'm afraid!
Anonymous asked:
Your t artwork is incredible!!! I love the waist/fingers post
Thanks! I think the one you're referring to is this death-spot piece? I love it, too. :)
Anonymous asked:
I don't know if you've got anything like this before but. Female or genderfluid gabriel × male to female trans Sam. Maybe as a Victorian AU or an AU where one of them is a ghost that haunts the other's house that other folks have warned to be haunted.
Interesting premise! I support genderfluid angels and trans!Sam. :) This doesn't quite spark my muse, but I'll keep it filed among my prompts!
(Now we're getting into the really old stuff, sent months and months ago, sorry!)
Anonymous asked:
here I am sitting in class trying to do my work when the the image pops into my brain - stoic, season 4 Cas being tickled to the ground by both Dean and Sam and then just laying there, giggling adorably because wow that was fun. now I can't focus on anything but that
Yeeeeessss! (Hope you eventually got your classwork done!)
Anonymous asked:
imagine dean getting hit by a spell that makes him get hit with ticklish shocks every 3 minutes and he KNOWS they're coming but he can't do anything to stop them
Get that boy with anticipation! Bonus points for having someone to hold onto and bury his giggles in. ;)
@lex-the-mockingbird asked:
Am I the only one with a solid craving for ticklish Dean headcanons? And just- Destiel Headcanons because oh my god they're just so precious and amazing💜
They are, aren't they! Many headcanons to be had over at the #headcanons tag. :)
Anonymous asked:
OKAY BUT Dean helping Cas put sunscreen on his back and Cas giggling because his back is so ticklish and Dean KNOWS it
I don't make the rules but this is true.
...okay, I do make my own rules. And I'd still declare this true.
waywardpenguinunknown asked:
I know that people love 'lee Misha/Cas a lot, but 'ler Misha/Cas has me feeling some type of way Just the smirks and hums and teasing grins, not to mention the fact that Cas has like a /crazy/ amount of power, you wouldn't be getting out anytime soon;) So yes, I do love 'lee Misha or Cas, but they can be my 'ler anyday(or Jensens/Dean's;)) Just some thoughts for you (P.s, is there gonna be a part 4 to wordless interruptions?💯👌🏼)
Holy moly, I found this musty message languishing at the bottom of my inbox from 2016. Yikes. The asker has since deactivated their blog, even. 😬 I don't know if you're still stalking around here under a different pseudonym but I promise I wasn't ignoring you on purpose! I agree with you wholeheartedly, here.
Wordless Interruptions (#series: wordless interruptions) topped out at three parts, but there's been lots of #ler!Cas since then in a bunch of other work, mine and others!
This concludes our regularly-scheduled inbox purge.
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devilbat · 4 years
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Quarantine Online
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A/N: sorry I have been MIA for months now. A lot has going on in my life and Depression sucks, making it hard to write, so forgive me.
Tom Hiddleston x Reader
Warnings: Just fluff
Summery: dating is hard it's even harder when a Pandemic happens.. 
     The picture you stared at only showed a well-toned lean body in a well-tailored suit. Most of the photographs showed the same, never his face. His name was Tom 39 years old, living in London. Though he dose travels a lot for work. Shakespeare fanatic, runner, enjoys cooking, long walks with his dog when he's not running and lots and lots of dancing. Six foot one, six foot two on a good day. Who was testing the waters out there, but will be the perfect gentleman and very respectful.
        His profile stated as you looked through it. He had messaged you right as you thought about giving up once again. Everyone on these dating apps only wanted one of two things. Nudes or sex nothing more. No connection, no relationship, not even a friendship. Sure, you were offered friends with benefits.
That was something you were not looking for. Did it not state in your profile that you weren't going to do any of that. Do men even read?
       The few dates you have gone on all ended up a bust. Then the quarantine happened right as you were getting yourself out there. So it was conversations via text. But soon you were ghosted far too many times because you wouldn't send nude.
        You were all about to shut down your account when this man named Thomas H. sent you a message. You weren't even sure why you click on the email from this man without a face. Here you were reading what he had to say.
       Y/n,
           My name is Thomas, but naturally, I go by Tom. I'm sure you might not even respond to this as there is no face to this profile. With my job and for my privacy would be one of many reasons why. But I thought I might give it a shot. And I have to say I'm quite mesmerized by your beauty. You are quite lovely, and I'm sure you get that a lot. But I genuinely mean it. I was a bit fascinated by your profile as I read it, might have had chucked at a few bits of it. I would like to know more about you.
       Like what type of nerd are you? Marvel or DC?
Star Wars or Star Trek? And of course, I'll answer any questions you might have for me. As well I would not ask for any pictures of you clothed or nude as I would like to get to know you as I'm hoping you wouldn't mind getting to know me without the nudes as you put it. Ehehe.
     I genuinely hope to hear from you. But understand if I don't.
Sincerely, Tom.
    Ps, I do hope this quarantine hasn't made you gone completely bonkers.
       Usually, you wouldn't have responded, but something about him told you not to pass this up. What was the worst that could happen that already hasn't happened on an online dating app? Well, there was always the fact he could be a serial killer.
       Hello Tom,
    You may have messaged me in time I was about to give up on this site and return to my habit.  Marvel all the way. I would hope you would agree or we can't continue talking. Though, I can't deny that DC needs to just stop with Batman movies. The should have stopped before George Clooney. Though I will give Christian Bale props, he did a better job than Clooney.
         As for Star Wars and Star Trek? That is a tough one, so I'm just going to say both are good. But let's face it. Captain Kirk is the better star fleet Captain. Sure Picard is excellent as well. But anyone after them just doesn't do it for me. Ha ha..
     And it's all about Baby Yoda. If you are not a baby Yoda fan, you're just wrong. Yes, I'm one of "those" girls.
Coffee or Energy drinks? I would say I dabbled in both. Pancakes or waffles? Yes, there is a difference. I'm a waffle girl myself. Well, that is all I can think of right now.
Y/n.
You hit send before setting your phone down on the table next to you as you yawned. Maybe it was an early bedtime, not like you had anything better to do. You puddled around your usual routine before bed. A loud ding brought you back to your phone.
"That was quick." Recognizing the chim of the app all too well. Grebing your phone, forgetting your face cream as you were curious about what he had to say—settling into bed, getting comfortable before you opened your phone.
Y/n,
I'm delighted to hear from you. If I'm quite bold, and for starters, its tea for me. With two sugars and a splash of cream. As for waffles or pancakes, I'm French toast kind of man, duh. Lol. Though you can't beat a good old fashion English Breakfast and a side of Earl gray. Eheh.
I'm quite a fan of marvel though it is a rather vast universe. What movies/comics praytell do you prefer?
Sorry love to disappoint, but I'm going to say Doctor Who I am British. The tenth and the eleventh doctor. I do hope you've seen the show. I used to watch the reruns of the original with my father when I was a young wide eye lad. I am a fan of both Star Wars and Star Trek. And there is nothing wrong with liking a baby Yoda. He is exceedingly loveable.
          It says your new to England, where are you from originally? How long have you've been here? Seen any of the sights England has to offer?
       That's all for now.
Sincerely, Tom.
          Emails went on for weeks talking back and forth first on the dating app than via text. You were the one to leap by giving him your number. After hitting send your phone vibrated with a text.
         Unknown number: Hello love, this is Tom. I'm delighted to receive your text.
        More weeks had passed. Still, you had yet to see his face though he did send you photos of random things during the day. You did the same as your toes sticking out from the bubble bath. Then you got a text of his toes sticking out from under the blankets. The two of you would watch a movie together. The quarantine was still in effect. Each of you would pick a film out every other weekend and sit back and watch it—text throughout the movie.
          Y/n: Omg did she just run up the stairs like a dumb big boobed bimbo!!! She makes the rest of us look bad.
Tom: Eheh, you said it darling, not me. Though I think she might survive this.
Y/n: Wanna make a beat? I think she will die within the next few minutes.
Tom: Oh, it's on. Now, what do I get if I win?
Y/n: Whatever it is you want cause mister you are going to lose.
You both patiently wanted to see what happens next. The movie ended, and you waited in annoyance for Tom to respond to gloat about being right. And to see what he desired for his spoils of war.
Tom: Well, Love, it looks like I have won this round.
Y/n: It seems you have butthead. What is it that the winner wishes for?
Tom: Did you just call me a butthead? Eheh. Hmm, let's see. How about a Skype date? I figured it was about time to reveal myself.
Y/n: Tom, I just meet you. I'm not sure I'm ready to see your eggplant. Haha.
Tom: I probably should have rephrased that better. My face love, my face. Eheh. Tomorrow at 7 pm?
Nervous was an understatement. You had cleaned your whole flat even if you were going to stay on the couch, laptop resting on a large pillow setting on your coffee table. You sat playing with your hair, unsure if you wanted it up or down. A chim from your computer startled you from straightening out your dress you finally had settled on. Soon a well-tailored suited chest came on screen.
       "Hold on, darling, trying to adjust this blood screen." The deep British, very attractive yet somehow familiar voice rang through the computer speakers. You only assumed it belongs to Tom.
           You watched the man attempting to fiddle with the view, cursing ever so quietly. Making you giggle relaxing a little bit more. Your laughing came to an abrupt halt when Tom's face came into Focus. Your jaw dropped. And now the unmistakable "ehehe" came in to play as you stared at none other the most eligible bachelor in England none other than loki himself Tom Hiddleston.
           "Darling, I think your drooling." Tom teased point to the side of his clean, shaved face. Tom fidgeted with his now raven-colored hair.
          "Oh, I-I," You stammered out, trying to compose yourself.
           "Didn't see this coming did you?" Tom smiled, wetting his lips with that blasted tongue of his.
           "Well, no. I wasn't expecting Tom
Hiddleston."
           "Is that a bad thing?" Tom spoke up.
           "Oh, no, no. I would be an idiot to say it was. Hey, wait a minute. I've told you that, that, that. Shit." You muttered.
          "That I was your hall pass if given a chance. Eheh. Well, it looks like you'll have had wasted your hall pass privileges. You only get one and can't use it on someone if you are already seeing them."
        "You know, sir, you are still a butthead." You stuck out your tongue at the man.
        "You do like calling me that. Why are you calling me a butthead this time?" Tom grinned.
              Your time with Tom was extraordinary, the two of you talked throughout most of the night. He told you things you never knew about the actor every woman pined over. Here you were, the one woman out of a billion he seems to fancy.
           "Well, love." Tom cooed as he watched you try not to nod off to sleep. "I should let you sleep."
         "I'm sorry." You muttered sleepily.
          "Do not apologize, my dear. I should be the one to apologize I've kept you up most of the night.” Tom smiled softly. He watched as you rub your eyes, a shy smile softly graced your lips. Making Tom’s heart flutter.
”Perhaps, my dear, would you like to meet for coffee at the cafe that opened back up?” Tom hummed in high hopes.
”Hmm, I don't know.” You smiled, trying hard to look like you were contemplating though you were going to say yes. To hell with this virus, it was Tom Hiddleston asking you to coffee.
”I mean, I'll wear a mask and stay six feet if needed.” Tom added quickly.
”No, no, there is no need for that. I don't mind unless you feel like it's needed.” You pipped up—Tom grind like a fool shaking his head no.
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settersprouts · 3 years
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꒦ ikanaide : chapter three ! ꒦
病欠
. . : iwaizumi gets sick and doesn't tell oikawa. oikawa notices he's not at school and skips practice for the first time to take care of him.
or, iwaizumi doesn't like to take medicine and oikawa can cook.
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sniffles. coughs. that's all that could be heard through the iwaizumi household at five am, the time hajime iwaizumi was supposed to be getting ready for school. hanako iwaizumi sighed, not ready to deal with a sick hajime. reluctantly making his way out of the bed he shared with aiya, he got a bucket, a couple of rags, and starting the trek to his son's room.
``hey-`` hanako started, but was interrupted by a coughing fit. ``hajime. how you feeling?``
his son smiled up at him grimly, wiping at the snot in his nose. ``like shit.``
``language.``
``sorry.``
hanako let out another sigh, wringing one of the rags out and placing the damp cloth on his forehead. ``symptoms?``
``cough, sneezing, my nose is runny- and my throat hurts,`` iwaizumi managed, his voice dry and scratchy.
``that bad, huh?`` hanako set the bucket down on the floor, pulling out his phone and thumbing at his screen. ``i'll text your coach and teachers to let them know you can't make it.``
iwaizumi nodded, letting out a small groan. his eyes suddenly flung wide open, and he sat up abruptly, scaring hanako a little. ``don't tell oikawa! he's going to try and skip school to take care of me, i'm sure.``
hanako chuckled, giving his son a little thumbs up and pushing him back down. ``i got it. i'll just let him figure it out himself.``
his son sighed in relief, letting his entire body relax. ``thanks, old man.``
``i'm not old. want some oatmeal?``
``that'd be great. thank you.``
a smile pulled at hanako's lips. ``alright, coming right up, kiddo.`` he made his way out of iwaizumi's room, leaving the door open so air could filter through.
``don't make it sweet! i hate it sweet!``
``i know that!``
hanako made his way into the kitchen, almost running into his wife. ``whoa- oh, good morning, love.``
``morning, hanako.`` aiya yawned, her face contorting into an expression of confusion. ``where's hajime? he should be getting his breakfast ready by now.``
``the kid's sick,`` hanako replied, kissing his wife on the cheek. ``i'm getting him some oatmeal for breakfast.``
aiya nodded, opening a drawer and pulling out a thermometer. she handed it to her husband. ``make sure to take his temperature, too. i want to know if i need to have a doctor over.``
hanako deadpanned, letting out a gruff laugh. ``babe, that's a meat thermometer.``
``oh, is it?`` she smiled apologetically, putting it back and switching it with the other thermometer. ``here, take this, then.``
he reached out to grab at the cool metal, letting it sit in his breast pocket as he got iwaizumi's oatmeal ready. ``can you go get him some cough medicine, or something for his throat? hajime says it's sore.``
his wife nodded, and padded over to the fridge, reaching above it to open the medicine cabinet. she sorted through bottles and bottles of over-the-counter medicine, before finally reaching the cough and sore-throat remedies. pouring a little bit into a plastic cup, aiya put the bottle back and closed the cabinet, placing the cup onto the tray with her son's water glass and oatmeal on it. ``there. have you called hajime's school, yet?``
hanako nodded. ``mhm. already done. hajime doesn't want oikawa-kun to know he's sick yet, so don't tell his mother. knowing her, she'll spill the beans somehow.``
aiya let out a soft laugh, covering her mouth as she did so. ``i understand. he'll probably want to skip school and tend to hajime all day.``
``that boy is something else.``
⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝
oikawa tapped his foot impatiently, standing at the intersection where he and iwaizumi usually meet up. they were supposed to get there early so oikawa could grab something from the convenience store- it was his nephew's birthday, after all, and he wanted to buy some red velvet cake mix.
he let out a sigh, pulling out his phone to check the messages he had with the ace.
› Messages with : Iwaizumi, Hajime
[Sent:To Oikawa, Toorū] go to sleep already, you idiot
[Sent:To Oikawa, Toorū] i know you're up watching volleyball matches
[Sent:To Oikawa, Toorū] it's late, get some rest or i'll hit you
¹¹⁻³⁹ ᴾᴹ
[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] yeah, yeah, got it iwa-chan ಠ_ಠ
[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] you don't have to be so rude, you know
[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] and why r u so obsessed w hitting me ?
¹¹⁻⁴⁰ ᴾᴹ
[Sent:To Oikawa, Toorū] goodnight
¹¹⁻⁴⁰ ᴾᴹ
[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] goodnight, iwa-chan :D
¹¹⁻⁴¹ ᴾᴹ
[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] morning, iwa (*゚ー゚)ゞ
⁰⁵⁻³⁰ ᴬᴹ
[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] where r u 人´∀`) i'm @ the intersection
⁰⁶⁻⁰��� ᴬᴹ
[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] iwa we're gonna be late i need to go to the store φ(。。*)
⁰⁶⁻⁰⁵ ᴬᴹ
[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] iwa-chan i'm leaving you >:p
⁰⁶⁻⁰⁷ ᴬᴹ
[Sent:From Oikawa, Toorū] im gonna kill you when i see you
⁰⁶⁻¹³ ᴬᴹ
despite what the messages ensued, he still hadn't left without iwaizumi. he let out another sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. he really had to leave, but he didn't want the ace to be mad once he figured out oikawa had went on without him. oikawa inhaled through his nose, and out through his mouth. pushing aside the fear of a very angry iwaizumi showing up to first period with homicide on his mind.
the sun was rising and starting to shine brightly, slightly blinding oikawa as he glanced at the star. if iwaizumi were here, he would've already been geeking out about it to him, trying to annoy the vice. he wasn't really that obsessed with space and extraterrestrial life, oikawa just liked to annoy his best friends.
``hey, oikawa!`` the setter turned at his name being called, and was instantly greeted with someone running straight into him. arms wrapped around his torso in what he thought was a hug, but couldn't be sure, since all the wind was knocked out of him in the process. familiar tufts of pink-brown hair tickled his nose, and his lips pulled into a small, genuine smile. he wrapped his arms around the attacker's torso, too, breathing in the scent he considered a second home.
``hey, makki. morning.`` oikawa smiled, pulling away to see his friend's beaming face.
hanamaki linked arms with oikawa, pulling him along. ``c'mon, we're going to be late for class!``
oikawa looked down at his phone, checking the time. 06:19 AM, it read. ``makki, it's only six twenty. we have plenty of time.``
``but..`` makki groaned, making a big show of rolling his head back and exposing his neck to the sky. whether or not that was an impression of oikawa on one of his days, oikawa may never know. ``we can be early for once.``
``class doesn't start until seven thirty.`` oikawa sang, pulling away from makki's grip and dragging him along. ``plus, i gotta get something from the store for takeru's birthday.``
his companion made an 'o' shape with his mouth, succumbing to oikawa's charms and letting himself be lead to the nearest store. ``nice. what are you getting?``
``cake mix. red velvet.``
``red velvet? holy shit, can i come to the party?`` hanamaki gasped, giving his friend his full attention now. oikawa laughed, and nodded.
``yeah. i was planning on inviting you and mattsun anyways.`` he replied, scratching the back of his neck. ``iwa-chan gets a free pass, since my mom knows him.``
makki gasped in mock offense, holding his free hand to his heart. ``she knows me too! how come i don't get a free pass? does she not like me?``
oikawa shrugged. ``well, you're kind of.. how can i say this. um-`` he laughed nervously, ``-too energetic, for her taste?``
``this is atrocious. i even did her dishes for her, once.``
``key word, once.`` oikawa retorted, eyeing the store up ahead. ``oh hey, look, there's sakanoshita. think we'll find cake mix there?``
hanamaki shrugged.  ``probably. doesn't karasuno's coach work there?``
oikawa nodded. ``hopefully tobio-chan didn't stop by on his way to school. i think i might throw up if i see him.``
``how immature.``
the two of them made their way into the small store, muttering a little "pardon the intrusion!" to the staff, who turned out to be a short, older woman, not karasuno's coach. they both let out a sigh of relief- anything could've happened if it was ukai who was sitting in the little swivel chair behind the counter. possibly just them having to endure the shameless torments from the latter, but who knows.
oikawa and hanamaki glanced at the small signs labeling the aisles, quickly finding the one they were looking for and walked down to the middle, where all the cake mixes lay. the captain sifted through the red velvet mixes while the other eyed the brownie batter with starry eyes. oikawa skimmed the backs of four boxes he settled on, tossing them all into the little basket he had picked up as soon as they walked in. turning to his partner, he couldn't help but let the wide smile overcome his facial features. hanamaki was practically drooling at the pictures of the brownies on the boxes.
he padded over to the wing-spiker and picked up a box, tossing it into the basket as well and waltzed out of the aisle- hanamaki at his heels. ``whoa, are you seriously buying that for me?``
oikawa shook his head. ``for me. to make for you when you come over later.`` he stuck out his tongue at his partner, smiling at the laugh he was able to get out of him.
``sure, whatever you say.``
the captain turned to the lady at the desk, reading the nametag on her shirt. hana sakanoshita. ah. so she was the owner. sakanoshita smiled at him, taking the bag out of his hands and scanning the barcodes on the backs of the boxes. ``find everything okay, honey?``
``yep, great, thank you! could we also get two packs of that strawberry gum?`` he pointed, putting on one of his award-winning smiles. she seemed to melt at this and nodded, quickly bagging up his stuff and handing his credit card back.
``you have a good day, boys.`` she said, waving at them as they exited. the two smiled and waved back, turning towards aoba johsai and resuming their trek.
hanamaki checked his phone, letting out a sharp whistle. ``nice. we didn't take as long as i expected- we have fifteen minutes 'till first period.``
oikawa grinned. ``told you so.``
``yeah, yeah. oh- by the way, where's iwaizumi?`` hanamaki looked around as if he were looking for the teen, turning back to oikawa once he figured out he really wasn't there with them. ``he walks with you, right?``
the latter shrugged, pulling out his own gum pack and popping a strip into his mouth. ``dunno. he didn't show at the intersection where we meet up, so i just went along without him. he didn't answer any of my texts, either.``
``huh.`` hanamaki said, putting his index finger and thumb on his chin in a thinking pose. ``that's weird. maybe he overslept?``
``doubt it. the man sleeps with his phone on so loud, he'll wake up immediately as soon as he hears one of my texts. plus, he has like, fifty alarms back-to-back to wake him up.`` oikawa replied, shutting down makki's theory so fast, he didn't even see it coming.
makki sighed. ``ah. i see.`` he shook his head as to clear his mind of any stray thoughts, and extended his hand. ``i want some gum. hand it over, peasant.``
``yes, my lord.`` oikawa said jokingly, gracefully whipping out the pack of strawberry gum and placing it in his hands. he folded makki's fingers around it, never breaking eye contact with his teammate. ``here it is. do what you wish with it.``
the two snickered at their antics, slinging their arms around one another. ``we're so going to be late.``
``yeah, probably.``
⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝
``oh, yeah, we're so sorry ms. sato. we got stuck in traffic- there was an accident over by my house.`` makki sighed dramatically, shaking his head slightly. ``we would've gotten a late pass, but we didn't think we were going to be so late.``
ms. sato shook her head quickly, smiling at the teen. ``it's okay, hanamaki-kun. just try not to let this happen too much, okay?``
hanamaki nodded. ``yes, ma'am.`` oikawa mentally facepalmed at his antics, and the two walked to the back to sit down in their seats, next to matsukawa, who was struggling to keep a laugh in.
``jesus,`` matsukawa breathed, ``the amount of bullshit in that was immaculate.``
``right?`` he and hanamaki fistbumped, grinning widely like the idiots they were.
oikawa sighed, turning his head slightly to talk to iwaizumi, then stopping himself before he could say anything. iwaizumi's desk stood empty next to his own. the captain frowned, checking his phone for any recent texts from the ace. nothing popped up.
makki slung an arm over oikawa, concern lining his features. ``hey, what's up?``
``he still isn't here.`` he pointed to iwaizumi's desk, the frown growing by the minute. ``and he's not answering. makki, i'm worried.``
a head full of black, unruly hair obscured the view he had of his phone. matsukawa laughed, stepping back. ``so he didn't tell you guys?`` when hanamaki and oikawa looked at him with confused expressions, he chuckled, and continued. ``guys, he's sick. coach was talking about it with ms. sato this morning. if you got here earlier you would've known.``
the captain facepalmed. ``of course, that makes sense. why couldn't he have told me though?``
``dunno.`` mattsun ignored the small pout resting on his captain's lips, shoving at his shoulder a bit. ``lighten up. he probably didn't want you to skip school and take care of him.``
oikawa let out a puff of air. ``yeah, okay. you're probably right.`` he was about to continue but ms. sato had started class, and a comfortable silence fell upon them as they gave the woman their full attention. makki and mattsun glanced at oikawa, worry clearly etched on their faces. perhaps they shouldn't have told him what happened with his best friend.
``oikawa,`` ms. sato supplied, stalking over to his desk and setting two thick packets on the hard wood. ``here's iwaizumi-kun's work. i trust you'll be able to get this to him?``
the latter sighed, looking up towards his sensei with the fakest smile he could muster. ``yes, sato-san, i'll give this to him as soon as i see him.``
ms. sato smiled, patting the boy's head and walking back to the front of the class. ``alright, so, has anyone written down the notes on the board?``
oikawa glanced at the chalkboard, internally groaning as he noticed it was completely filled with notes. where the hell did she find the time to write all that?
he let out the fifth-hundredth sigh that day, picking up his pencil and getting to work. iwaizumi totally owed him.
⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝
``you want to, what?`` coach irihata stared at his pupil, shock painting his features. oikawa stood before him, fumbling with his practice clothes, a faint blush plastered over his cheeks and nose. ``you want to skip practice?``
``yes.`` oikawa nodded. ``it's only for today, so i can go home and take care of iwa-chan. he has a lot of work to catch up on,`` he added, holding up the many papers he had collected from his professors in each class, since his and iwaizumi's timestables were identical.
irihata stared at him some more, then shook his head quickly, smiling at him. ``alright. i don't see why not.``
oikawa brightened, clearly glad by the news. ``thank you so much! i promise i'll make it up to you!`` he chimed, switching his volleyball shoes for a pair of regular sneakers. ``all your meals this week, on me!``
``you don't have to- and he's out the door.`` irihata sighed, glancing at the now agape gym door. the warm afternoon breeze rushed in, leaving an unpleasant, humid feeling. mizoguchi came up behind him, watching oikawa sprint off into the distance. ``that boy is something else, isn't he?``
``definitely.`` mizoguchi laughed, walking forward to close the doors. ``iwaizumi's lucky to have a good friend like him.``
the older coach nodded. ``we're all glad to know him.``
dammit, someone's talking about me, oikawa thought, as he sneezed for the seventh time since leaving aoba johsai. he rubbed his nose, pissed off at the irritation of his sensitive organ. his legs already burned- he had sprinted all the way to the intersection, and was now leaning on a streetlamp, catching his breath. he probably should've put on his knee brace if he knew he was going to exert a little energy on running home, but he was in a rush.
pulling out his phone, he quickly navigated to his email, frowning at the lack of messages from his dear friend hajime iwaizumi. he hadn't read the texts either, so he probably was really exhausted. slipping the device back into his pocket, he started the rest of his trek home, popping another strip of gum into his mouth.
the grocery bag swinging on his arm contained all the contents oikawa thought iwaizumi would need : some cough and cold medicine, a couple of boxes of tissues, a mask for himself, disposable rags, and a heating pad. the materials cost him about ¥800 each, which wasn't that expensive.
finally, after what had seemed like forever, the captain had arrived at iwaizumi's house. there were no cars in the driveway, which meant his parents weren't home. what were they thinking, leaving poor iwa-chan alone while he's sick? oikawa frowned at this. what a silly idea.
he flipped up the doormat, grabbing the key that was strategically placed underneath and unlocked the door. pushing it open, he let out a little ``yahoo~ anyone home?`` to let iwaizumi know he was there. he wasn't expecting a reaction, so seeing iwaizumi come downstairs to greet him kind of scared him out of his wits a little bit.
``jesus! iwa-chan, can't you warn a dude first?`` oikawa panted, placing a hand over his heart. the ace deadpanned, walking over and snatching the bags out of his hands.
``what the hell do you think you're doing here? i'm sick, go home.`` he retorted, his eyebrows furrowing so much, they looked like they were attached to his eyes. he sifted through the bag, pausing once he realized what the plastic bag contained. ``what is this?``
oikawa rolled his eyes, taking the bag back and setting its' contents on the kitchen counter. ``it's for you. you're sick, so i decided to skip practice to come here and take care of you, and to reteach everything that you missed today.`` he replied nonchalantly, shoving iwaizumi towards the direction of his bedroom. ``go back to bed, i'll cook you some lunch, since i'm sure you didn't eat yet.``
iwaizumi didn't reply, because (a) he was right. and (b) he was shocked that the toorū oikawa skipped volleyball practice for him.
``anyways,`` oikawa said, opening his fridge and scanning its' contents. ``how do you feel about egg?``
``i can eat it. i don't feel nauseous or anything,`` iwa replied, sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. ``and wait- you're going to cook?``
the setter turned around, tying an apron around his waist. ``yeah?``
iwaizumi blinked, shaking his head and leaning down on his forearms. ``nothing. continue. don't burn down my kitchen.``
oikawa grinned, having just been granted permission to make his best friend's food. ``alright! on it, iwa-chan!``
``shut up and start cooking.``
⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝
``you have to take it, iwa-chan!``
``NO! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!`` iwaizumi jumped onto his couch, holding a fork towards oikawa like a weapon. ``GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME.``
oikawa let out yet another sigh. ``jeez, if i knew you were going to be this bratty about taking your medicine, i wouldn't have came.`` he took another dangerous step towards iwaizumi, holding out a glass of water and a small cup of liquid cough medicine. ``iwa-chan, if you don't take this, you'll never get better.``
``so? that thing's disgusting.`` iwaizumi fake-retched, the look of disgust on his face almost believable. he should've taken the drama course at school.
another step. ``you seem to have forgotten that i have a kid nephew, who i always got to take his medicine, no matter how big of a tantrum he threw about it.`` another step. ``you're acting like a toddler. just take your medicine and get better.``
``assikawa, if you so as much take one more goddamn step towards me, i'll kill you.`` iwaizumi growled, clenching the fork tighter. of course he wouldn't kill him, he'd just said that to frighten him. somehow, oikawa didn't seemed phased, and took another step.
``hajime iwaizumi. if you don't come down off that couch and take your medicine right now, so help me god, i will bring my mother here and she will be furious when she realizes how much of a tantrum you're putting up right now.`` the setter mused, shaking the glass of water like he was calling him towards him, like a dog. iwaizumi gulped. the aura surrounding oikawa was downright terrifying. his eyes seemed almost lifeless, and it scared the wits out of him. ``on the count of three. if you haven't taken the medicine by then, i'm calling her. one.``
iwaizumi flinched, backing up slightly. could he make it out the front door without oikawa catching him? probably not. his legs were longer, so he'd cover more ground easily.
``two.``
how bad would the punishment be if he just didn't take the medicine? it's not like oikawa would actually call his mother, he wouldn't do that. right?
``three-``
``okay!`` iwaizumi jumped off the couch, grabbing the medicine and pouring it down his throat. he made a face of disgust, snatching the glass of water out of his hand and gulping that down too. he shuddered, trying to force himself to keep the atrocious liquid down. ``there. happy?``
``very.`` oikawa grinned, patting iwaizumi's head. ``good job.``
the ace burned with pride at the praise, letting oikawa's nimble fingers tread through his hair. ``thanks for coming over.``
``of course.`` his friend replied, giving the shorter a warm hug. ``don't mention it. i'll skip practice for you every time.``
``you better not.``
oikawa smiled. ``no promises.``
─── sick day.
chapter 4 !
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tocautiouslygo · 4 years
Text
About
Hi! I'm Jay. I'm a 23 year old disabled queer nonhuman from the UK. Please don't gender me or call me human. Also, please avoid ableist language on my posts.
This blog is firmly in support of the liberation of marginalised people and against capitalism.
I'm tired and I have no patience for amatonormativity in fandom.
DNI if: you're a TERF, you police the terms other people use for their own genders/sexualities/disabilities/neurodivergence (for example: exclusionists, transmeds, anti self dx), you don't support BLM, you don't support bodily autonomy (anti abortion, swerfs, anti medication (including self medication)), you don't support otherkin/alterhumans.
More detailed "about this blog" under the cut. (You don't have to read any further if you don't want!) (Also some of this is a little out of date. I'm hoping to get around to making an updated version sometime soon.)
I post almost exclusively about Star Trek. All series are represented here, in vastly unequal amounts. Kirk/Spock is my OTP, although I've been Thinking About Q (and especially Q/Picard) nonstop for the last few months. Any time I reblog something about Data you can assume I'm making the heart eyes emoji at my screen. There's the occasional positivity and awareness post in here as well.
Current spoiler policy is to tag everything from an episode for 1 week after it airs and tag major plot points for 1 month after the end of the season.
If there's anything I can do to make my blog more accessible to you, please tell me. I try to tag common triggers, as well as things like sarcasm and misinformation. Please let me know if you'd like something tagging. I try to only reblog videos with captions or transcripts. I describe every image I post myself, but I may reblog undescribed images. Sorry about that. I'm always happy to clarify the meaning of anything I say, explain jokes, and so on.
I'm trying my best to unlearn white supremacy (full disclosure: I'm white), ableism, and everything else that upholds systemic oppression. I appreciate callouts if I mess up.
Feel free to look back through my blog! Everything is tagged by series, character, ship (usually tagged in character/character format), and some other idiosyncratic tags that I'll let you discover on your own.
You can find me elsewhere on the internet here:
Sideblog for non-trek stuff that doesn't fit here: @cakefordogs
Zero Escape sideblog (mostly inactive): @queer-funyarinpa
Murderbot sideblog: [currently password protected and inactive - if you know me from that fandom and want to look through the archive feel free to ask for the password]
AO3: tocautiouslygo
Non-fanfic writing (mostly poetry, some microfiction, maybe essays in the future): write.as/cakefordogs
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rixxy8173571m3w1p3 · 4 years
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Ray Guns Are Not Just the Future
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This fic was inspired by the song Ray Gun by the duo the Bird and the Bee as well as the title inspired by the album its on. Also, theres a few Star Trek references. Goodness, I've just been wanting to write like crazy, so here's this small fic. Hope you guys like it.
In this fic Rick makes repairs, but upgrades what's been broken.
_____________
You loved the image of a man at work; more specifically seeing your man at work, whether he was tinkering around or in the middle of repairs. Speaking of repairs, Rick had just finished repairing the hole in the wall which occurred when his automatic hair trimmer exploded after a demonstration on a wig head; imagine what would've happened on his head? Anyway, he took the liberty of upgrading and installing tech where there previously was none. Although you were grateful that things were mostly back to where they were, how exactly were you supposed to feel about a miniature weapons vault? Disturbed perhaps. "Rick, this belongs in an episode of Star Trek, not in my bathroom cabinet. What am I supposed to do with this?"
With a good-natured chuckle, he wiped the sweat of his brow; satisfied with a job well done. "After that run-in with the Iotians, I-I thought it'd be a good idea to keep this here. Just i-in case."
You didn't think they were going to leave Sigma Iotia II anytime soon, but one could never say never. "Rick, if they find these heaters here, then not only are we fried, but they might find my hairdryer. I just bought it, and haven't had a chance to use it yet."
Finding your tone amusing, he chuckled again. "Gosh, I-I highly doubt they'd understand what it's even for."
You weren't so sure, but that didn't really matter. What you were more concerned about was knowing you were armed and dangerous. "To be honest, I never thought I'd be in a stage in my life where I'd even know about the existence of real-life ray guns, let alone own a few. It makes me feel like a dangerous woman."
"It's perfectly natural to feel that way," he commented. "y-you probably never thought you'd date an old man like me either."
Where in the world did that come from? You two were only talking of ray guns and aliens, not his age. Really, you didn't like how hollow the last part sounded, but you answered carefully, "You're right, I didn't think I'd date someone like you, but I didn't think I'd date anyone either. At this point, I don't think any of that matters because I wanted to go out with you. It's not like I settled."
"But it's not like you didn't have options."
Underestimating a Sanchez's sass could send a person to their early grave. Though, with Zeta-7 it was unusual and not usually directed at you; he must've had a bad day, and somehow you triggered it. He gathered his tools together, and didn't continue on the subject; setting out towards the living room where a cup of coffee was waiting for him. You glanced back at the bathroom cabinet and had an idea; albeit a foolish one.
____________________
You had your war paint on, or as it's affectionately called exaggerated eyeliner. "Who's been talking trash to you again," you inquired, punching one of your palms with your first. "and do I have to do some target practice on some bald spots?"
Cradling his mug, he answered solemnly. "No, that won't be necessary. It - it won't help."
"But someone has been talking down to you again right?"
"It doesn't matter," he shrugged, but his eyes said otherwise. "what I do doesn't matter."
"Really? Well, if that doesn't matter I'll show you something that does."
You grabbed a framed photo. It was taken while you two were on one of your dates; it was a simple trip to get ice cream, but Rick considered it a date nonetheless. You pointed at the image of him in one of his adorable Mr. Rogers look-alike outfits; he was exhibiting one of his winsome smiles. "This man matters. I love him with my whole soul, with my whole everything. He might get mistaken as my father more often than I like, but I would never kiss my father the way I'll kiss this man. And I wouldn't have ever gone out with someone my father wouldn't have approved of, but I know he would've approved of you."
"He would've skinned me alive if h-he knew that I was attracted to you."
While it was an exaggeration, it was somewhat true. "My father was protective of the ones he loved, and because I'm a lot like him, I feel the same way. I'd do anything to protect you and that lovely smile of yours. So please don't say that you don't matter," you softened. "because everything matters. And you matter the most. You were the one that taught me that."
A lightening of spirit took place, and he set down his mug in order to gather you in an embrace. "Y-you're right. I'm sorry about what I said. I-I don't know why I let what the guys say get t-t-to me."
"Me either, but I'm here for you dear."
Pulling out a ray gun, you giggled. "That also means I'm not afraid of defending what's mine. So, which dimension should we invade first?"
Fin
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