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#Managing the time between my arrival and the check-in was the most difficult part of this trip
oldtvandcomics · 6 months
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To get some positivity in this tag: Let me tell you about my recent bustrip to Prague! While narcoleptic. It was really great, and a bit tricky, and I think we can use some stories of disabled people doing fun things.
Background story: I was visiting my grandmother, and took the bus both there and back, because it's different, and because I really wanted to actually see some more of the Europe I spent my life running there and back through (we live in the West, my Grandmother in the East). On the way back, I spent two nights in Prague. It was a highly anticipated part of the trip, as I still kind of miss the city after my one year there. It was also the most tricky part of the whole thing to manage.
You see, my bus arrived at 6.00h, and check-in at the hotel was at 15.00h. Which is a good nine hours between the two.
I am pretty much guaranteed to fall asleep every three to four hours.
Rest of the story under the cut.
For those not aware of the weather right now in Eastern Europe: It's COLD. And SNOWY! So when I arrived at the bus station, my first reaction was pretty much "Nope!", and I went into the bathroom to put on an extra layer of clothes. I was fine after that.
You can walk from UÁN Florenc bus station to the Old Town pretty easily, which I knew because as I said, I've been there before. So I walked there, and stopped to buy myself some breakfast in a big supermarket at a metro station. After that, I went the usual way down to Old Town Square and the clock, and continued on to Charles Bridge.
At that point, it was still only between 7.00h and 8.00h, so of course there was close to nobody on the streets, only the people who had to be there. And snow. Lots of snow. Charles Bridge. People. Charles Bridge, normally black with age and full of tourists, was WHITE! And almost completely empty. I was there at sunrise. It was impossible to describe beautiful.
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Pictures don't do it justice, but here are some. The river. People. The river was damping!
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And yeah, this is Old Town Square.
I usually don't get this magic-place-feeling from Prague, because the people cover it up. Which is actually one of the reasons I like it, they cover up some of the useless noise in my brain, too. I'm more functional in a big city.
Anyway. This was clearly an exception. It really felt like walking in a wintery fairy tale. The only thing missing was a ghost.
After that, I went to the hotel, and dropped off my backpack. I like to travel with a light luggage, which made moving around earlier possible. And hotels are fine keeping luggages locked up in some room before check-in and after check-out.
I then took the tram number 22 direction Nádraží Hostivař. This was planned. One, I know the line, and know that it passes by two big shopping centres. Two, I know that I always fall asleep on any moving vehicle, and public transportation is a reasonably safe place to sleep.
Which is exactly what happened, I woke only when I was at the second shopping centre. So I went and looked at some shops, and bought myself a gift of three ice bear figurines. I sometimes like to take pictures of these plastic figurines, and the snow triggered that. I'm very sorry that I didn't have my actual collection with me. But the bears did a wonderful job, too.
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This was behind a random tank station, where there was a table with benches where the snow was still completely untouched. So I played a little around there.
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Then I took the tram to the other shopping centre, fell asleep again on the way there, looked a bit more at shops, had lunch in the KFC on the top floor and finished my book, then it was already time to take the tram back to the hotel. I fell asleep during that trip again, then I went to the hotel, checked in and got my room. All in all, I had managed to survive those 9+ hours without any greater discomfort, which is, honestly, better than I'd expected.
The end. Here are some more bears from the next day.
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City wildlife. <3
8 notes · View notes
neopuppy · 2 years
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Sleep Therapy (M)
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Pairing. demon Jaemin x femaler reader
Genre. That Boys Is A Monster AU, life after Be There For You, explicit smut, M/F, dark fic
Warnings. heavy dubcon/noncon elements(don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable. I’m serious. thanks.), somnophilia, breeding, rough and unprotected sex, impreg kink, demon lore, camera use, praise, degradation, obsessive behavior
WC. 6.6(6)k
Now Playing. Slept So Long/Jay Gordon
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‘Just wanted to watch you sleep. Wanted to be part of your dreams.’
It’s been hours.
It’s been days.
It’s been weeks.
Herbal teas, over the counter Melatonin, even prescribed sleep medication that could knock out a small child for days scattered your living room table; piled up only to mock you.
Useless, all of it completely useless as you enter another night of restless sleep.
Debilitated by lack of rest has forced you to take a sabbatical from work, per the suggestion of your regular physician. One week at the hospital under careful watch had you in tears every morning, pleading for something to help you. Anything.
It was more than the bags formed under your eyes. Hallucinations had become a reoccurring issue the longer you walked around like a living dead girl, unclear visions of men transforming into monsters; nightmares turned into reality.
“A sleep clinic might be our last hope,” your physician shrugs, having only reached this point with you after insisting you must be exaggerating. “I’ve contacted Dr. Na at the Vision Clinic, he’s the best Somnologist in the district. You should be in great hands.”
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Great hands.
Great hands that led up to built up arms confined in a lab coat. Broad shoulders and a warm handsome smile that seems too blinding to even stare at for much long.
Dr. Na floats around his desk to greet you, light as a feather with the most calm of demeanors.
He smells lovely, soothing in a way similar to a hot stove warming up holiday cookies. Nothing too strong, but just enough to pick up a whiff of as he embraces your hand in greeting.
“My new patient.” He speaks with sparkling pearly white teeth on display. Every inch of him is a reminder of how wealthy Doctors are, from the silver Rolex watch adorning his wrist down to his freshly shined designer shoes.
He manages to maintain warmth in his gaze despite the obvious differences between the two of you.
Greasy hair, flesh empty of life and sweats you’ve turned into daily wear paired with fluffy Ugg slippers stand before him on your meek frame. Shyly nodding when he double checks how to pronounce your name and directs you to sit.
Dr. Na seemed too young to be a seasoned professional in this field. He couldn’t be much older than his mid-twenties. Albeit difficult to truly take him in full admiration as he sits against the ledge of the large crimson wooden oak desk placed in the center of his office. He takes time to run through your chart again, repeating the things you’ve heard for months now. No prior health issues or concerning conditions, a proper diet and lifestyle, nothing that could conclude how you’d end up here.
“How’s your caffeine intake?” Dr. Na asks with a charming lift at the corners of his mouth.
“Haven’t had any in two months now.”
“There are many causes behind insomnia.” Dr. Na nods, scribbling notes down while explaining. “I’ll schedule an MRI scan for later today to conduce if this could be connected to a chemical imbalance.”
“Chemical imbalance?”
“Emotional stress, perhaps trauma, lifestyle changes.” He smiles, akin to the way a Kindergarten teacher may when speaking to a naive child. “We will figure it out.”
Scribbling a few more notes, Dr. Na rips out a section of paper instructing you to head down to the cafeteria designated for patients to eat a proper meal. “I’ll be sending out the order for new medication to try. When it arrives at your room please make sure to follow the nurses directions and take them all. I will come by to check on you as soon as I have an open window of time.”
Dr. Na shifts to stand, the full size of him shadowed above your frail exhausted frame. “We’ll see how your nightmares play out this evening, once I can look through your MRI scan results we can move on to other options, such as hypnosis.”
“Hypnosis?” Even your speech comes out in a lazy drawl. Tongue heavy and dry, dizzy on your feet when you get up to head down. Already aware that you wouldn’t be eating much, even lifting a fork to your lips drained you.
“Of course, it’s one of my specialties.” He chuckles. “Might sound silly but I have a real knack for mind control, you’d be surprised how easy it is to dominate the human mind. It’s easier than training an animal.”
If it wasn’t for the speckled white dots infiltrating your vision, you might’ve noticed the slight change in Dr. Na’s expression. The flicker of black consuming his iris, the drag of his tongue across his upper row of teeth, and the amused hum passing through his throat as he takes in your appearance up close.
It’s been hours.
It’s been days.
It’s been weeks.
It’s been longer than that, months of watching you come in and out of your apartment. Endless days of parking far enough across from you to fly under your radar.
There was no rush, until there was.
Suddenly you had a companion walking you to your car after work, you had a reason to shop for pretty dresses, you sprayed more perfume on and smiled to yourself when opening up notifications on your phone.
Suddenly you felt further away, distracted by him. The stupid new much too friendly Economics professor who had found a way to stayed plastered to your side.
It’s too late anyway.
The sound of Jaemin’s knuckles cracked, echoing loud enough to lift your head with a glance around the coffee shop you frequented. He stayed leaned back in a corner less lit up, less noticeable, especially to someone as oblivious as you.
Someone so carefree and innocent, someone who didn’t even bother to make sure to grab the right drink from the counter when the barista called out your name. It was too easy to blindside you, drop a concoction of sleep medication in your cup as he picked up a quad shot Americano sitting near your milky vanilla latte.
Sip after sip had you yawning despite the powerful caffeine. Time and time again your usual morning pick-me-up failed you, to the point that you argued with the baristas about changing ingredients and formula.
It was too late.
Half asleep and drowsy, your key prodded at your front door in frustration, collapsing against it with your eyes shut and a crushed sigh.
The trap had been laid out, more out of enjoying the breakdown of watching you suffer and lose interests in everything the more you stayed awake night after night.
It made him laugh, entertained pulling on invisible puppet strings where he watched from down the hall as you crumbled to your knees, whining desperately for the key to unlock your apartment.
Weak, a perfect victim.
Jaemin had spent time finding you, it hadn’t been easy. Escaping hell never is afterall, bargains had to be made.
A vessel for his spawn, a strong healthy human vessel that could survive demonic childbirth. That was Johnny’s demands.
‘More than 1, I expect you to bring back many.’
You’d only be the first of the batch, the first to carry his lineage, the first to take his seed and hand over every bit of strength your little body had left in it after he finished.
and you’re perfect, immaculate in every way to carry his first child. The epitome of woman from the inside out. The sole purpose of your existence to be bred full, nothing but a hole to fuck.
Jaemin can’t deny the sick pleasure he gets just from watching you nearly pass out at your front door. A bump on your head the next day would be the only hint of what possibly took place. The bulky arms cradling your limp figure to bed would feel like a faded memory, the sound of your door being kicked shut, nothing more than a foreign thought, a distorted picture of a man hovering above you stripping off your clothing to settle you into your bed more of a nightmare than a dream.
Demons don’t have hearts, they don’t feel, they don’t care.
But you’d always be the first.
You’d always be special in comparison to the rest. The first kill of the hunt, the first prey to fall victim, the conquest alone would be more monumental than any of the rest. You’d be his favorite memory, the one he chose first.
Hunger and ache to destroy mattered more, and as his thick fingers dragged down your stomach, following the path of breaths lifting your ribs higher and lower, he salivates. He swallows at a dry itch at the bottom of his throat, fingers crushing your waist to dip in harder.
“Sleep tight princess.” He always spoke to you, a mere muffled sound in your mind.
Muffled sounds, staggered breaths, heavy weight suppressing your lungs and throat. Pain and fear, a dark sensation followed whenever the recollection of thoughts swarmed around.
It could be after a shower, brushing through your hair, applying lotion, dressing for work. The shadowed memory of something you can’t prove ever happened lingers.
Not even the pain in your lower back, the soreness between your thighs or marks blooming across your skin make any sense. Every idea or thought only seemed less plausible. No sign of break in, no clue to indicate intrusion to your home.
The thought of a demon stalking you day and night would never cross your mind.
Demons aren’t real.
Religion had never been an interest for you, your family hadn’t pushed any beliefs to follow. Most of what you’d learn about religious mythology stemmed from horror films, and demons just seemed like such an outlandish idea. A joke.
Why would you ever assume the doctor assigned to solve your problems could be the root of them.
Jaemin watches you sleep for the hundredth time, removing the crisp white lab coat to hang on a hook. He sits near the special bed for out-patients, away from the noise of machines and heart monitors. It’s quiet, peaceful and calm even as you sweat, breathe heavily and twist to hide your face.
Ruined. Mind deteriorated by dark evil, by happenings you have no control over.
It’s not the first time he’s visited your slumbering figure, your bare skin more ingrained in his mind than your clothed one.
The doors locked, nurses working the night shift too busy with sick patients to check on someone knocked out with sleep disorder.
Upon Dr. Na’s instructions no one should come by. As he undoes the buttons of his smooth ironed shirt he grins to himself. A camera’s set up in the room to capture your sleep schedule, how often you wake, if you sleep at all.
The dosage of medication you consumed tonight would be enough to tranquilize even a large dog. There’s no way you’d wake up tonight.
He didn’t want you to remember tonight, as much as the thought of your eyes fluttering open letting out a shrill scream when you see the visual above you made his cock twitch. A tingle burned from the bottom of his spine to his throat. It’d be fun to have you half-lucid, shouting and begging for him to stop.
But it’s more appealing to watch your arm flop limp at your side. Entertained by the way you seem uncomfortable even as you sleep.
Special.
Jaemin thinks about it, pushing the hospital gown up past your waist. He sucks at saliva filling his cheeks taking in the cute pair of light rosey toned panties hiding your center. You’re not even wet, yet, not that he cares. His cock only hardens thinking about it, smoothing down the expanse of your inner thighs. You’ll struggle more to take his size, cry and curl in to get away. Grip at the sheets by your head for some semblance, for anything to ground you and focus your pain elsewhere.
It’s not the first time he’s slowly tugged off your underwear. It’s not the first time he’s stretched your thighs open as far as they’re willing to go. The small scrunch in your nose informing him the pull hurts your hips, it aches up to your groin.
This is good, Jaemin thinks, this is good because he wants you to remember this. He wants you to know you’ve been claimed, fucked by something devilish and unholy. Touched and destroyed by sin in its human form. He wants you to see how well you take it, how your pilant body still manages to jerk and roll up seeking more of his length to dig deeper inside of you.
Tossing your underwear aside, he pauses to blink at the red light flashing on the camera. Recording everything he’s about to do.
He’s waited, waited so long that his cock twitches fiercely against his thigh at the visual of your exposed cunt.
Jaemin wants to take his time, savor the natural scent flowing from your middle. Drag his fingers aimlessly between your folds until you slicken up obscenely, bite every inch of skin, slap and knead handfuls of meaty flesh in a rough manner. Turn you on your stomach to force your ass up in his face, push your pussy folds open just to watch your hole plead. Empty. Begging for a fucking demon to fuck you even if it hurts, even if you don’t actually want it.
He wants to take his time, but he can’t. It’s been months of pulling out, jerking off on your pretty face, cooing and mewling above your cum splattered stomach. Smearing the warm arousal up your chest dreaming of the day he pours load after load inside of you.
and it’s time, it’s time to ruin you for good. Force your unconscious body to take and take.
One hand delicately tugs and strokes himself, hissing as he jerks away from his thumb rubbing across the head. Precum gathered there smearing around the tip, coating it in a thin layer of sticky gloss. His other hand works away the gown hiding your full breasts, ripping off the flimsy garment easily. Easy access to strip a patient, easier access to have you bare and ready for him.
His breath staggers, gliding the pads of his fingers down your chest. Your sternum rising and falling as a human should, because you’re full of life, full of emotions and feelings he could never understand anymore.
The connection to his human self evaded his memory years ago. Void of the life he once had, lifeless, mindless and consumed by nothing but the desire to create pain. To watch a stupid human like you in agony.
A stupid, stupid, pretty little human. Nothing more than a warm blood filled fleshlight to fuck.
Jaemin lets out a chuckle, dropping his neck back to stroke himself above your stomach. Slapping down the middle of your abdomen a few times just to watch your skin tremble beneath, just to picture how far deep inside of you he can reach. With your hips pushed up and expanded, he knows you’ll birth a child for him easily. A new spawn to create a powerful army in hell. The first of his bloodline to lead and carry on the fight for evil.
He knows you’ll make it through, because he won’t give you a choice.
Rubbing the head of his cock up from where your stomach dips to your navel, he almost wishes you’d wake up. Your weak arms would push up, slap his chest, punch his arms, burst into tears with protests.
That will come, in time.
In the meantime, he prods your belly button, smirking at the thought of fucking you there too. Fucking every hole on you just for fun, because who fucking cares what the king of hell demanded. Jaemin’s going to fuck you until only his needs are met and fulfilled.
The thought races through him spine to balls, hunching forward as he shifts on his knees. The bed dipping and creaking under his weight, switching to rub the tip on your clit.
Still dry.
Dry but warm. Warm enough to be incinerated by the jagged rub of his size passing between your folds. It’s dry, but it’s fucking good, just to feel your fleshy folds struggle along his veiny stiff rod. Just to feel your skin pucker against the sticky pre-cum coating areas of his shaft.
He grunts, rubbing his cock against the plush feel of your parted pussy folds, sneaking quick glimpses of your hole— so tight and closed up. Too tight to take his size without it hurting, without ruining your pussy to only take his cock.
He’s way too big, and he knows it. He knows it from the amount of times he's played with you, just swiping against your cunt. Teasing himself to the point of mind-numbing overstimulation by putting in just the tip. Whimpering even in your sleep from the push ripping you open.
Sucking at the drool lining his bottom lip, he staggers for a minute, pushing side to side against your pussy. Lazily drawing his eyelids up to take in your angelic face once more, so much purity and tenderness. All of it soon to be his.
The slumber you’ve drifted off into isn’t peaceful in the least. It’s hot, weighing down on your chest, an itch passing through your nerves. Running through endless hallways filled with doors leading to nothing, nothing but black emptiness.
It’s been Jaemin all along, smoothing your hair away from your face. Snaking his lips over your body layering patterns of kisses. Jerking off for hours on your face, chest, stomach, anywhere he felt like.
He thinks about it again, nudging in not even half of the tip against your resistant entrance. A rubber band-like snap pinches around the width of his size. The skin sucking around him already appears damaged, further arousing him to inflict pain upon you, to make it hurt. Make it hurt knowing you have no choice but to take it and enjoy it against your will.
Groping your jaw with one thick hand, he turns your restless passed out face to watch him; easy to picture your eyes shooting up full of red vessels and tears. It burns from his chest to his lower back, swiveling his hips to push in the rest of the tip of his length. The bulbous mushroom shaped cap suffocates inside of you. Dry and tight as fuck, he thinks fervently, hissing between his teeth shining under the dim light as his lips part in moan.
It’s more than good just to feel you choke around the tip, your mouth falling open with a staggered breath allowing him to pinch and roll your plump bottom lip between his fingers.
Jaemin pauses, once more absorbing just how lifeless and limp you lay spread open. Part of him craves for you to wake, to stare up in shock paralyzed by fear, to be able to relive the torture he’s prepared to demonstrate. To enjoy it, because you’re actually nothing but a filthy slut; his own little human fuck doll.
It’s time. It’s finally time.
Saliva drenched digits drag down your chin, the center of your throat, dipping between your exposed breasts. Hardened pebbled nipples peak upward, more stiff from the chilled air circulating the room than excitement. You’re too unaware to feel aroused or anxious, too lucid, lost in the nightmare grappling you through hell.
Even if you were to wake up, Jaemin would only fuck you harder, tackle you down to take, take, take.
A shot of exhilaration curls through his gut, tugging his spine toward his navel as he hunches closer with one hand planted by your head to stay propped up. Jaemin’s gaze locks on your core, a pussy made just for him, because it doesn’t matter who fucked you before. He’d be the last.
The slow drag out of you draws an anguished sounds from the back of his throat. He needs to see you one more time, one more time before he claims and makes you useless for anyone else.
With a fist wrapped around his length, his other hand palms your cunt, shoving your swelling slit open to see the full visual of your hole. So empty, tiny, like a fucking virgin.
It really makes his head spin for a minute, rubbing the pad of his finger in a circular motion over your entrance. The airy gurgle that escapes your lungs shoots his eyes wide, focused on your face burying into a pillow. He tugs on himself a few more times, mindlessly rolling two digits over the precum that won’t stop leaking. He needs to fuck you, now.
Stifling a grunt, Jaemin shifts an inch closer, wrapping a thick bicep under your thigh to spread you open more. The head of his cock swipes between your core, slapping down heavy. Heavy and loud despite the lack of wet to clash against. Wedged up as close as possible between your thighs, and Jaemin has to grit his teeth to contain a growl. Pushing his hips forward to rub the underside of his cock against your clit, he wants to let out a throaty cry; a muted sound of pain when he feels it.
You’re clenching around nothing, seeking something.. someone to fuck you. Unaware of what your body is even asking him to do. Each drag spurs your hole to clamp down more, the first push of wetness spewing out smears against his balls. His throat tightens up swiping between you again, the tip teasing and brushing against your entrance without entering.
Jaemin’s nostrils suck in, inhaling a deep breath as he watches his cock bounce off your fleshy folds in slow-like-motion. Nasty, so nasty and raw, wet for anyone like the textbook definition of a fucking whore.
The next stroke along his cock glides easily, wet from your dripping pussy, wet because your body wants him whether you’re awake or not. He doesn’t care, but he knows it, he knows from the way you stare. The dreams you have of him not even under his influence.
Pressing at your hole again has him drooling, laving at the innerwalls of his mouth to collect the saliva that won’t stop from pouring.
“Fuck.” Jaemin finally grunts, biting down on his teeth as he sinks inside of you. It’s wet and tighter than he could have ever imagined. The hand wrapped around himself hardly comparable after many nights spent jerking off on your backside.
A smooth thrust fills you up eagerly, a perfect fit making it too hard to hold back from cramming into you balls deep.
Jaemin stills for a minute, long eyelashes fan on the tops of his cheeks. Swallowing harsh enough for his Adam's apple to visibly bob up and down the length of his dipped back neck. “So fucking good, just like I knew you would be.”
Palms scramble along the sides of your thighs, grinding forward to watch your mouth fall open again. A silent cry he wants to hear echo through the room simply not enough. Reaching for your waist, Jaemin pins your upper half to the bed, wiggling his hips to keep your thighs around his sides.
“Wet like a whore.” Jaemin snickers, clicking his tongue along the backs of his teeth. The painful circle of his hips fills the room with gasped whines, grinning to himself because you’re enjoying it. You like getting fucked, even in your sleep. He could care less with the sole mission to breed you full of cum consuming his head. He thrusts finally, the head of his size catching on your hole earning a louder moan.
The warmth gripping his dick feels mind-numbing, the most he’s felt in months since hunting you down, and his pace alters immediately as the feeling finally gets to him. You’re his for the taking, his and only his.
“Mine.” Jaemin mutters to himself, ruthlessly thrusting back into you in a jerky motion. It’d be painful if you were awake, his pace alternating from meticulously deep rolls of his hips to sloppy, aggressive and messy. The sound of wetness more overbearing than the clap of your skin colliding.
He’s frantic, knowing he can fuck you like his as long as he pleases, and you can’t do anything about it.
Jaemin’s thick arms bracket your head, nose hovered above your lips. Moan after moan sounding more excruciating than the last. Fucking into your tight cunt like a man who just discovered the glory of a fleshlight, reckless abandonment. The ache against your groin and thighs one guaranteed to last for weeks to come.
“So fucking good for me angel.” Jaemin praises, head thrown back when you clench around him. It makes him laugh like a maniac, amused by the idea of you listening, hearing everything he says. Dropping his face to your throat, he licks up your jaw to your earlobe, nibbling before he whispers. “Pretty baby loves getting fucked like a slut.”
A sigh sings from your lips, the prettiest sigh he’s ever heard. A sigh that runs in circles throughout his mind, turning to drop his cheek against yours with wide eyes focused on shut ones. The heavy weight of your eyelids taunting him, pushing him to fuck harder for just a glimpse of your hidden iris.
He could cum off that alone, and it punches through him with the next thrust, burying his thick fat length as deep inside of you as he can. Surely deep enough to rip through your insides, the weight of his heavy cock poking between your pressed together stomachs with each pointed thrust.
Jaemin’s obsessed with the grip your pussy gives, needing to feel you lock you and struggle to take him through your unwanted pleasure once more. Snaking his hand between your connected lower halves, he roughly rubs at your engorged clit, fat between his fingers from neglect. The need to cum more prevalent for the both of you than he cares about, but it feels too good to force his size past your shrunken entrance.
“You’re so fucking good for me. You don’t even know.” Jaemin babbles to himself, nose digging into your cheekbone to quiet the groan ripping through his chest. The sound of your wetness fills the room up in the most obscene way, splashing against his thighs and stomach with each impactful land of his hips.
“Ah—fuck!” A string of curses soars free, jostling you up the hospital bed that struggles to stay in place as he fucks you at a near inhumane pace. The whites of your eyes gleam with his next thrust, rolled back from the powerful hit that arches your back involuntarily.
“Fuck you all night, gonna fuck you everyday.”
Jaemin cries out, ripping a chunk of your hair with a balled up fist to unveil the column of your throat, biting down as the coiling heat in his gut becomes too overwhelming.
And he cums, screaming with his teeth dug into your skin. Bits of flesh scraped off by his sharp canine teeth, but still not enough to wake you, even as you let out a weak moan intensely squirting release around his size.
It’s almost too hard to stay put inside of you, having to realign his weight to keep his cock in despite the wet arousal bursting trying to shove him out.
It’s more desperate than he wanted, to fuck you like he owns you, because he does now. You’re his from inside out now. You’ll always be his.
Jaemin’s flopping down to his stomach, pushing your pussy folds open to ensure every drop of cum disappears. He has to fight back the urge to lean in, slurp of the slick wet coating your labia to watch your hole convulse, twitch and swallow down the white mess of cum passing through.
“We always have tomorrow to keep trying.” He grins wolfishly, throwing your gown back on without a care. “and the day after that.”
The camera shuts off, near the end of it’s battery life, and he thinks the timing couldn’t be more perfect. Scooting back toward your heaving figure, he leisurely trails up one of your thighs, playfully pushing them apart to memorize how damaged he’s left you. A fat wad of cum bubbles deep in your stretched out hole, gaped around nothing, sore and painful looking.
When morning comes you’ll wonder again why your body hurts so much. You’ll cry miserably, losing your patience, ready to end your battle, ready to give up. That’s what Jaemin wants anyway.
“Goodnight angel.”
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It’s been over a week now of staying at the clinic, and you feel worse than when you arrived.
“How long has it been since you’ve had a good nights sleep?”
The questions rhetorical, not that you’d be able to decipher the true meaning behind your doctors words.
Between nightmares altering reality and mixing up different prescribed medications, you no longer had a grasp on time. Nothing felt real anymore, even the metal table before you reflecting your exhausted lifeless appearance felt like some horrific illusion.
“I can’t remember.”
Dr. Na leans closer to you with his elbows propped on the table to perch his chin in his hands. A soft yet devious smile painted on his lips as he watches you lose your fight.
“I’ll show you what you have forgotten.”
Dr. Na could say anything to you at this point really. Beyond the horrific visions taking over your brain, your body felt like it was breaking down on you. Every muscle sore, even your bones ached, new marks of bruising appeared everyday.
“I believe, I’ve figured out what’s keeping you awake.” The doctor says, turning to a rolly table at his side. Click clacks of typing sounds throughout the empty room, clearing his throat as he turns a black screen to face you.
“You have?”
Dr. Na stands, he smooths back a bang piece of hair that's fallen loose. The lab coat fitting his frame perfectly begins to slip from his wide shoulders and he removes it without breaking eye contact.
“You see, you’re a special case to me.” He continues, rounding the table to stand behind where you sit with his heavy palms weighing down on your slumped shoulders. “I’ve invested so much time and energy into you.”
Dr. Na’s lips pout behind you, gathering your hair off to one side to tickle down the side of your marked up throat. Marks left behind from his ruthless grip choking away your breath while he fucked you harder and deeper without anything or anyone to restrain him.
“In return, I need you to listen.”
“Doctor?” He could be speaking a foreign language as far as you’re concerned. Tilting your chin to the side to look up at him, your forehead wrinkles confused, met with the always handsome comforting face. Big doe eyes that round in a precious way that makes you feel as if everything will be ok.
“Shh shh” pinching your chin, Dr. Na turns you to face the screen, leaning the weight of his chest against the back of your head as he reaches over. Fingers click down, a video of your sleeping figure taking over the laptop screen.
“Did I do something in my sleep?” You wonder, watching as you struggle to stay still. Your feet kick the more you turn side to side, it’s uncomfortable to see yourself in distress.
“Not quite, angel.” Dr. Na huffs, continuing to push his chest closer to you. He has you hunched in closer, face lit up by the screen. Surprised as the doctor appears, and bright red eyes flash in the direction of the camera. A glitch because of the dim-lighting, you decide. “But I did.”
It’s shocking, disgusting, and humiliating to see what happens next. The choked gasp that pours from your mouth trapped by a large hand slapping down on your lips.
“You see, I chose you sweetie.” Dr. Na’s tone falls an octave, the sugary sweetness behind his words disappearing. “This whole time, I molded you, prepared you for this.”
He nods, pushing his other hand down to grip and hold your stomach. “To carry my future child, to birth my spawn.”
Screams go muffled beneath the palm splayed over your mouth, shoved up with an arm belted around your waist to bend over on the table. Dr. Na rips at the hospital gown covering your backside, arching your neck with his powerful hold on your face to force you to continue watching him take advantage and use your body.
“I said shush!” He sounds more demonic now, displaying an inhuman strength as he shreds off your underwear. The chill air floating through the room smacks your core quickly sending your knees to clink together. Fearful as you watch the man on screen rip you open from the inside. “Almost liked you better asleep.”
He has the audacity to laugh when tears trickle down his fingers, kicking your thighs open with a knee as he plants against your bent body. The cool table melting against your heated flesh with his hips smacking into your bottom. Three fingers shove into your mouth as you attempt to scream for help, someone, anyone to hear you and stop what happens next.
“You see,” fingers drag up the backs of your thighs, gripping roughly where they land on your ass to spread you apart. Sucking in air between his teeth at the sight of your ruined hole, swollen and painfully stretched from the amount of times he’s fucked you through the night now. “You’re perfectly healthy, couldn’t be better. A little stupid, but you’re human afterall.”
He doesn’t explain more than that, thrusting his fingers deeper into your mouth to quiet the coughs and cries spilling out of you. The sound of a zipper opening has you weakly attempting to thrash back, fight him off.
He’s too big, he’s too strong, too powerful to kick away.
The first touch of his bare skin shoots your eyes open, crying out as his girth lands against your core.
He’s too big. He’s too fucking big, and he’ll break you.
Pleads fall empty trying to pray for mercy, his cock only leaking out more spurts of precum as a murmured ‘please God’ sounds.
“God can’t help you now, sweet little angel.” He sneers, rubbing the length of his size between your folds just as he begins to on the screen. The hold on your jaw forces you to watch each action, to watch the way he manipulates your body to do as he pleases.
“Don’t want it princess?” He grunts shakily, growling in his chest because you’re already wet. So fucking nasty, hot and wet between your thighs, canting back to meet his cock ramming against your meaty folds. “But look at how much you loved it.”
He shakes your head in a mocking manner, much like a child being punished for uttering a bad word. The screen too blurry behind your tears, but the image is clear enough to see your doctor take advantage of you in your most innocent helpless state.
“Please, please doctor…please.”
The sound of his tongue clicking in dismay echoes like a jeer, circling your entrance with the tip the more you plead. “Jaemin. Enough of this bullshit doctor act.”
Nothing he says to you makes sense anymore, incapacitated by his weight crushing your feeble body to the table. Deeming your pussy wet enough, he scoots forward to sandwich past your clamped thighs, kicking a foot roughly between your knees for more leverage. He wants it to hurt, wants you to scream to make up for all the times he’s let you enjoy it, wants to see you cry and beg for him to stop.
One swoop forward gives him exactly what he desires, shallowly fucking his full heavy girth in even with how tight you still manage to be. The video on screen displays a similar act, different in position, lacking the blood curdling screams and cries you let out as he mocks and laughs.
“So pretty baby, you’re so pretty for me.” Jaemin licks at his upper lip, jostling against you a few times as he turns you by your chin to look at him, cracking your neck with the strain. “Can I fuck you? Huh?”
He laughs again, an arrogant disgusting laugh, emphasizing the question with another piston of his hips. “Can I? My sweet angel can take it. You already have.”
It’s too easy, you’re nothing but a mindless hole succumbed to his strength. The man behind you more demonic than anything, the gentle features of your concerned doctor turned dark, menacing, purely evil.
His hips hammer wildly, keeping your face turned to the side to watch the way he ravages your body. To watch him destroy and rip away your soul.
Every choked miserable cry you let out only heightens his pleasure, snapping his hips brutally against your backside. The pain hits from both ends with each dig of your thighs and pelvic bone cutting against the table.
“You were tighter the other night.” He spits, wadding up saliva to aim at the middle of your fast. The nasty thick wetness trickling from the bridge of your nose to the puddle of snot and drool accumulated on your lips. “Already fucking loose, you know what that means?”
Fingers squeeze past his relentless hips, shoving between your buttcheeks to scratch at your rim earning a shriek and scurry of your feet to get away. The sadistic laugh that booms out behind you sending shrill fear up your spine, tightening up around the length punching in and out of you with intention to hurt.
“Ah, fuck, yeah. Like that.” Jaemin pushes back, choking your neck from behind to hold you down. Palm smacking down angrily on your rim. “but not today.”
He reaches around, finding your clit between his middle and index finger to pinch and roll until you lift onto your tippy toes with a gurgled scream. “Can’t fuck a baby into you back there.”
“Doctor, please! Stop!” Between heavy breaths and sniffles, Jaemin keeps laughing, biting on his lips from the conflict in your tone. Your pussy locked around his length begging for more the louder you cry and protests.
“Don’t have to beg.” He taunts, licking up your back to bite down on your jaw, his fingers continuing to pleasure your bundle of nerves incessantly. “Gonna fuck you full of cum regardless. You’re so wet for me princess.”
It’s sick, sensing the last semblance of energy leaving your fingertips, the hold you had on the table goes numb, shaking against your will as orgasm rips through you making Jaemin growl and fuck harder past the convulsing around his size. He crushes against you completely, knocking your lungs free of all air, desperately twitching as he paints your insides once again.
He’s quick to recover, faster than you can process, pulling out to throw you down onto your knees and stroke the last spurts of cum onto your lips before you can try to crawl away.
“You’re mine now.” Dr. Na’s chest beats up and down drenched in sweat. You shouldn’t like it, but as you wait for the bile to rise up your esophagus you can’t look away. The pads of his fingers clean your chin, pushing release past your swollen abused lips. Nodding with his chin that you swallow it all.
“What did I just say?” He tuts, pushing two digits down on the middle of your tongue until you cough and choke. Jerking out with a river of drool streaming out onto the floor, onto his designer loafers.
“I’m yours.” You repeat, sniffling with a cough as the tangy taste of cum lodges in your throat. It’s everywhere, rubbed raw onto your skin, stuck between your teeth. The statement is nothing but true as he watches you swallow.
“Exactly.” Dr. Na scoops you up, perched on the edge of the table to slap your thighs open. “You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you never forget that.”
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I feel like I’m probably in the minority, but when I see the characters like Lady Nagant, S&S and even the green fox like lady, I honestly just feel…meh towards them.
Don’t get me wrong, they look like interesting characters, especially Nagant, that SO many people seem to adore.
Like, I WANT to be very invested in Nagant, and I actually find the idea of a very complex rivalry between her and Snipe interesting. I wish S&S and Izuku met just once and they could trade notes or Izuku finding a SANE person that is as a big an All Might fan as him and they could just talk for hours and not only talk about what makes him great, but how they could improve and be the next examples of his legacy without staying in his shadow. And not to say the scenes we got between Izuku and the foxy giant woman weren’t some of the most wholesome scenes I’ve seen in the story. But Izuku having either Shoji or even Koda with him protecting her would allow more moments with Izuku being with underrated characters as well as open a door to the heteromorphic quirk aspect of this world.
But it’s just…I can’t seem to find it in me to get invested deeply into them.
Maybe it’s personal preference. Maybe it��s because the arc they’re debuting in. (I’ve voiced my feelings on this arc.) But I think a huge contribution to this is because it’s MORE characters that I suddenly have to focus on, while already keeping track of the people we have been introduced to, with many of them underdeveloped.I think if Hori showed these characters early on, I may feel differently. Heck, by the time I was introduced to Hawks and Miriko, who I had a big feeling they were characters I was suppose to care about, my head was already checking out. Even reading about their backstories and other parts of their life later, I was like, “I don’t care. I honestly don’t care. Where’s (name of character I give a damn about)?
By now, it kind of feels like Pokémon. Sure, you can name the first 150 easy. Then the second gen came in. Took some getting used to, but hey, it’s manageable! Then the third gen arrived. Then the fourth. And so on and so on. Eventually you can’t keep track of all of them. Especially when while there’s so many characters, the story clearly only wants you to focus to specific ones. (coughBakugoucoughL.O.V.coughEndeavorandHawkscough)
Honestly I don't even think you're in the minority here. Many people have issues with these characters only being introduced as a plot point and I'm in the same camp. I wish we got more foreshadowing of Nagant and Stars and Stripes. Stars and Stripes would be easy, just have Izuku watch an interview about her or something and maybe have an action figure or two show up or something. Nagant would require slightly more thought but it wouldn't be too difficult.
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moonstrider9904 · 2 years
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Fools
Chapter Two of Half-Moon Glow
Pairing: Crosshair x Female OC (Aurora Dawn)
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Summary: after being assigned as medic to Crosshair’s squad and having a rough start with him, Aurora must define her physical relationship with the sharpshooter.
Tags/warnings: Filthy smut, 18+ NSFW minors DNI. Oral sex, male and female receiving, cum eating. Mentions of blast injury, but nothing graphic, brief descriptions of tending to a wound. Language and swearing, banter. Word count: 2.6k
A/N: Shorter chapter this time, but it’s smutty and yummy and serves as a setup for the next parts of the story. Enjoy, my lovelies!
Playlist: kochetkovv - search
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The heat on Felucia was unkind. For somebody under a suit of armor, anything so simple as treading became a nightmare, draining them from all energy and hydration in no time.
Despite Aurora's active dislike for hot weather, she put her men first. It was a miracle she had enough supplies, and at many times she feared running out, adding to the risk of danger.
And as Aurora knew, and the clones of unit 99 would find out, the heat made it more difficult to deal with injuries.
It was a simple mission on Felucia. Arrive, walk ten klicks—which, in the heat, felt eternal—disable the remote control systems for the shields on a nearby Separatist operations base, and get out, all via stealth. Doing so was not hard, and the squadron had managed with grace.
And upon exit, a wrong step had triggered an alarm, thus summoning a small legion of battle droids. For the most part, squad 99 had gotten out, having an advantage of half a klick between the droids, until a stray blast hit the torso of the soldier guarding the rear end of the formation.
Aurora had nearly blacked out when she saw Crosshair had taken the blast.
Inhumanly quicker than the initial treading through the jungles of Felucia, they'd gotten Crosshair back to the Marauder. Aurora had patched Crosshair's wound; thankfully, no vital organs were hit, but it did cause hemorraging in the surrounding skin. He'd be in pain for about a day, but he'd also heal quickly.
Twelve hours after the initial treatment of the wound, a tense, quiet moment between the medic and the marksman, it was time for Aurora to perform a rutinary check to make sure the wound hadn't taken any turns for the worse---it was unlikely, but even if Crosshair had been acting like a jerk, she still had to be sure he recovered well.
And it was far more uncomfortable than it had been the first time. Alone inside his bunkroom, Crosshair sat on a simple chair, bare from the upper body as Aurora removed the bandages covering his abdomen, kneeling before him. Every time she tried to make eye contact, he'd look away.
Crosshair would hiss from time to time whenever Aurora disinfected his wound. But even he couldn't keep himself from thinking how gentle her touch was, how she was clearly being careful not to hurt him more. Her job was to fix wounds, an errand that proved painful more often than not, that didn't need justification when her methods caused pain, and yet she was gentle with him.
He was used to Tech performing medical duties with disregard of the injured one’s current state, and did what had to be done. Other times, Crosshair had opted to patch up his own wounds, often a result of his ego.
He'd never had someone be that caring with him.
And yet, the next time Aurora and he happened to meet eyes, he once again instantly looked away from her.
Aurora sighed as she put the lid on the jar of disinfectant. "Will you at least tell me why you're being an ass now?"
Crosshair huffed.
"You were nice when you wanted to get laid, weren't you?" She continued, clearly angry.
"Sorry, sunshine," he replied, condescending. "It won't work."
"A bleak excuse," she rolled her eyes as she reached into her kit and pulled out a clean bandage, readying herself to apply it once again around his bare abdomen and back.
Crosshair noticed as her resolve faltered when she looked at him, and she felt it too. Aurora normally didn't have a problem dealing with exposed skin. Not only was it natural, but she was a professional doing her job.
But this was Crosshair, and he still made her nervous. Her gaze still wandered around his body, stopping over the lines of his toned muscles, the little salt and pepper trail that disappeared beneath his belt, imagining the warmth and taste of his skin, rising and falling with his breaths as they got heavier, faster.
Another scoff left him as he gazed down on her; he knew exactly what he did to her.
“Forget about it, sweetheart,” he said.
Frowning at him again, Aurora reached inside the right breast pocket of her uniform and took out the note she had found on her nightstand the morning after she and Crosshair had been together. She showed it to him, her eyes determined, while Crosshair looked blankly at the piece of paper.
“Then what was the meaning of this?” She asked. “You could have just left, quietly, in the night, without further obligation. You wanted to see me again.”
“That was before I found out you were going to be transferred to this squad,” he barked back.
“What difference does it make?” She challenged, tightening the bandage around him and securing it, letting her hands drop to her thighs. “What changed?”
“I’m not even allowed to date,” he said as he leaned down, closer to her, his brown eyes staring straight into her purple ones. “And you don’t fool me. You were out looking for a fling, but that’s not all you want. You want to cuddle. You want a boyfriend. I can’t give you either of those.”
She felt a pang in her chest, knowing he was right—she’d made the mistake of liking Crosshair far more than she should have. But just as she admitted it to herself, her realization faded into spite the moment Crosshair smirked at her, proudly having won the battle.
“You like me,” he stated, pride oozing from him.
She may have liked him, but she knew Crosshair was loving the attention. She’d finished patching him up, and by all means there was nothing to worry about regarding his injury.
If Crosshair could have his fun with her, Aurora knew that she could play that game too.
Her big, purple eyes darkened as she slowly lowered her face, scooting forward to be placed right in between his legs, her breath fanning on the bit of exposed skin between the bandage and his belt. Crosshair watched her, his eyes darkening with lust too, though the smug smirk faded.
“I fucking dare you,” he whispered.
“Choose your words carefully,” she replied in an airy voice. “Dare me and I just might do it.”
Crosshair remained speechless, but with his eyes, he beckoned. He got lost in the alluring purple of her eyes, following her gaze as she lowered herself even closer to his body. Unconsciously, Crosshair took his hand to the back of Aurora’s head, fisting some of the lavender-colored locks that fell gracefully down her back, tugging with the slightest force.
It was enough to send fire down her back.
Aurora undid the buckle of his belt and set it aside, swiftly removing the codpiece until she was able to free his length from his undersuit. She smirked when she noticed it was already hardening, pulsing as it tried to find her, while Crosshair’s breathing had already deepened.
“Looks like you want me too,” she met eyes with him just before wrapping blue fingers around Crosshair’s cock, finally taking him into her mouth and tasting with glee.
Crosshair hissed, struck by how much of his length she could take in. His gaze calmly rested on the dots of yellow that went down her nose, bobbing up and down as she sucked him raw, until his head fell back when he had no will to even think anymore. He held in any groans, lest they’d be discovered, and instead resorted to whispering fluent, sinful strings of curses in different languages.
With his eyes closed, he pictured Aurora on top of him the way she had been back on Corsucant, rocking her hips against him. He pictured her under him, lying on her back, helpless as he railed her. And now, she was there in front of him, between his legs, sucking him like a straw.
Crosshair’s legs trembled with every groan he suppressed. His grip on her silky lavender hair tightened, drawing gentle whimpers from the beautiful Pantoran with his teasing. Desperate, he bucked his hips up and down, longing for more of that friction that was making him lose his damn mind.
It was only when he felt himself about to tip off the edge that he regained the knowledge to speak, tilting his head forward again to look at Aurora. Just as she deep-throated him, she took her gaze up to look at him, her eyes wide and innocent despite the utter filth she was responsible for at the moment, nearly rendering him speechless again.
“F-Fuck,” he grunted. “I—”
He cut himself off to hiss as the sudden pleasure engulfed him; he heard her moan when he involuntarily tugged harder on her hair, and his hips rocked with more momentum against his will.
“Aurora—fuck, I’m gonna cum…”
Her faux innocence faded into confidence as she locked gazes with him, sucking him harder and deeper. Her eyes, alluring, drew his attention to her as though she could speak into his mind, continuing their previous banter.
Beautifully, seductively, it seemed as if Aurora were whispering to him I dare you.
And how much Crosshair had struggled to draw out his release was rendered meaningless as he shot his seed inside her, with Aurora moaning as she swallowed all of it, finally letting Crosshair relax back onto the chair.
He panted, his body limp on the chair that acted as the only support to keep him from falling.
Slowly, Aurora stood up. Her gaze on him felt gentle, prompting Crosshair to open his eyes and look at her. He watched as she positioned herself next to him, reaching out to brush his cheek with her hand with a tender touch.
His look of satisfaction turned into something more pained as he met her gaze and, absently, shook his head in denial. Crosshair would come to regret his own gesture when he saw the hope fading from her eyes, though he was too worn out to do anything about him.
Aurora lingered but a few seconds with him, until, quietly, she decided to leave him in his room without another word spoken.
Tension followed the two wherever they met up. Though the other troopers seemed oblivious to their actions in the bunks, it was evident that they weren’t getting along well.
Of course, with Crosshair being the way he was, this wasn’t a first for the rest of Clone Force 99. They merely figured Aurora had finally caught a whiff of how the sniper functioned when she stopped trying to get his attention.
To the naked eye, it would seem like Crosshair didn’t care.
The hours dragged on in hyperspace. It soon became time for Aurora to retire for her rest hours, sliding into the bunk room that was now hers. It was small, but it would suffice, and despite Crosshair, she hoped to be able to make it a home. She’d already tried to resolve to be neutral towards him, as civil as she could.
But how could she do that? The man made her tingle between her legs just by looking at her. Hell, even thinking about him made her soak, as involuntary as it was.
She figured she’d have to get used to it, but her thoughts would be interrupted by the sound of her door opening. Her gaze jerked toward it, and her features would drop in disappointment when she saw Crosshair standing there, his expression unreadable.
“What do you want?” She asked him. “Your wound’s all patched up, you don’t need me to look over it again.”
He walked into her room and closed the door behind him. “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”
“Well, you can’t just get my door open and waltz yourself in here,” Aurora told him out of spite.
“Thought you wouldn’t mind,” his arrogance returned in the form of a smug little smirk on his lips.
Aurora wanted to roll her eyes, but she found herself looking at him, suddenly wanting to be held in his strong arms again.
“I’m sorry, sunshine,” Crosshair broke the silence, surprising her with his kindness.
She sighed. “Cross, I don’t even know what to say.”
“I can’t give you what you want,” he continued. “Not unless it’s just a good fuck.”
Her gaze on him darkened, the words ringing in her ears, until all reason seemed to evaporate from her body. She wanted him, and, carnally at least, he wanted her too. And, lustful as it may have been, a part of her still wasn’t okay with letting him go.
And the way Crosshair was looking at her, it seemed like he was thinking the same thing, which would only be sealed when the two lunged at each other and engaged in a fiery kiss, devouring one another. As he let his hands roam around her body, he pushed her toward the wall of her room, growling softly into the kiss while sliding his fingers over her every curve, allowing himself to get lost in her scent.
“We’re just fucking,” he panted into her lips as his hands kneaded into the firm flesh of her thighs.
“I can’t tell you how long I’ll be okay with that,” she spoke back between kisses, her hands traveling hungrily up and down his back before settling for tugging at his silver curls.
“I can live with that for now,” Crosshair huffed. He picked her up and pressed her back against the wall, letting her legs fly around his torso. The wound only slightly stung, but he didn’t care. He continued to kiss Aurora’s plump lips until he lowered himself to her neck and sucked on the thin, tender skin, leaving a purple hickey where her blouse could easily hide it.
Aurora’s trying to hold in her moans resulted in a helpless, needy little whimper, one she’d never be proud to admit to making. It made Crosshair smirk into her skin as he began to squat down enough to have her feet rest on the ground, supporting her as he continued to kneel, placing himself between her legs, which rested on his shoulders after swiftly putting aside her clothes.
It was his turn to suck her until she was mindless, something he achieved the second his tongue brushed over her soft folds. While sucking, he buried his tongue inside her entrance, fucking her with delicate flicks. Crosshair looked up at her now the way she had done before, bringing Aurora close to her edge faster than she’d ever gotten.
Seeing her tremble, Crosshair felt he’d get back at her. He slid his tongue out of her pussy to bring it back over her clit, and he moved his tongue fast, decisively.
Aurora’s eyes widened in shock at the immediate and utter pleasure that made her tingle, her craving increasing so obscenely, feeling a desperate need to moan and scream out his name. He licked her fast, and he had her bucking her hips against him with need in seconds.
Crosshair wasn’t satisfied until Aurora was squirming in his grip, her fingers tugging at his curls as she struggled to keep herself from making any noises. He’d have his fun with her, eating her out just a tad more than she could manage, rendering her knees about as stable as jelly.
When he stopped, he carefully eased her onto the ground. While she recovered her breath, Crosshair found himself smirking at Aurora.
She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, but what he’d said earlier still stood. It only pained him that he felt the imminent sensation that someday, somehow, he’d risk hurting her.
But how a woman like her could develop feelings for him still eluded him.
When she opened her eyes and looked into his, however, it somehow felt right.
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whentranslatorscry · 1 year
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Hitagi Honeymoon
011
From that point on, our boring time in the car was spent discussing thought experiments and similar topics such as the prisoner's dilemma, the Stanford Prison Experiment, the Milgram Experiment, Turtle Soup¹, and the marshmallow test. Before we knew it, we reached our first-day destination— the campsite at Nasu Highlands— by early evening.
Miraculously, we arrived without any accidents, disputes, or situations that could have led to a “Tochigi divorce” in place of a “Narita divorce.” Hitagi was, in fact, quite pleased that she managed to drive the long distance without once relinquishing the wheel (although we did take breaks at service areas as a safety priority).
Her satisfaction may have been due, in part, to the decreasing opportunities to drive offered by the growing prevalence of remote work and online shopping. Though she seemed aloof from the world, there may have been an element of stress or frustration accumulating.
My best friend, Oikura, told me that I might as well die for even entertaining the thought of going on a long-distance road trip and sleeping in a car for my honeymoon (her use of “die” was her endearing mannerism). But maybe, in this aspect alone, she had unexpectedly— and uncharacteristically for me— hit the mark.
We had read it in the guidebook, but the vast beauty of nature that greeted us was beyond our wildest imagination— and it looked like we had been blessed with good weather, too.
Though not to say that there wasn’t a single cloud, it was a brilliantly sunny day with a vibrant blue sky. Honestly, I had assumed that Hachikuji Daimyoujin's spiritual guidance would have been little more than a comforting thought, but it appeared to have been genuinely effective— which, in turn, gave rise to a nagging sense of guilt, like a tugging at the back of my hair. Maybe we should save visiting the Nikko Toshogu and Futarasan Shrines for another day.
“I wonder how far it’d be to the Killing Stone.”
“Ah, the ever-vigilant worker, Koyomi. I just checked the map app for you, and it seems to be within walking distance.”
“Really now?”
“About an hour and a half on foot. Up a mountain path.”
“Please lend me the car.”
It seemed that even now, she was reluctant to let anyone else take the wheel— despite us being no strangers anymore. But then it dawned on me: with the change in her surname, did she need to change the registration details of the minivan in question?
If so, that’d be a niggling deal for sure.
Not just for my dear, but for me as well.²
Anyhow, although they were still tentatively feeling each other out, Hitagi and Shinobu's first meeting and conversation, though awkward, can be said to have not resulted in a killing spree— it was a bit of a let-down in the sense that we had expected irregularities in the trip, but on the other hand, we wouldn’t want another development like that between Kanbaru and Shinobu.
It was difficult to tell since both were so composed, but they looked tense, and I felt it too— lucky for us, Kanbaru, who doesn't read the atmosphere, was there to help.
We were blessed not only with good weather but also with such a good junior— so Shinobu was now back in my shadow.
It was a beneficial byproduct of Hachikuji's influence on the weather: as a former vampire, Shinobu wasn't very fond of sunlight. So it was worth considering a visit to Nikko³ Toshogu Shrine.
Well, having lost enough power to be deemed harmless by professionals, going out in sunlight wouldn’t turn her to ash, but there were traits and instincts that couldn’t be lost simply by changing her name— traits that were inevitably present.
Like the fear of heights even with fall prevention guardrails in place.
Becoming Assistant Inspector Araragi or Agent Araragi didn’t mean everything about the boy Araragi would be lost— even those aspects that one would want to lose. Things like a honeymoon in the car.
So, after the meeting with my dear wife, forced on me in a most casual manner, Shinobu went to take a midday nap in my shadow— by the time I went to check the broken Killing Stone at night, she would wake up.
Following Kanbaru's advice, I decided not to surprise Hitagi in the car with the proposal of making Shinobu our adopted daughter. But if it wasn't going to be a surprise, when should I bring up the topic?
I think we needed to discuss it during the honeymoon and it really wasn't something that could be decided remotely— but first of all.
We had to get through this whole glamping.
As evidenced by my use of the phrase “get through,” I had never been the camping type, though if push came to shove, I could manage an outdoor sleep… And the same went for Hitagi.
“I'd heard rumors about this, but I never imagined that the tents here in glamping would be like actual houses. It looks more like a lunar base than a tent. Even more magnificent than my apartment.”
As we stood before the impressive dome-shaped tent, which required no pegs or stakes, Hitagi looked a little confused.
Our thoughts and impressions seemed to coincide.
From the outside, it had looked more rugged, like a giant snow dome, but inside, it was indeed a respectable house. Even if Oikura had joined us, though she had declined or rather rejected it, there was plenty of space to accommodate her comfortably.
I could live here forever.
“My boathouse back in Washington pales in comparison.”
“Wait a minute, Araragi-senpai. Araragi-senpai lives in a boathouse in Washington?”
“Yeah, it's always been a dream of mine. When you visit, you should spend the night.”
“When I return to the U.S. someday, I'd love to live in a trailer house, ” my automobile-obsessed wife declared before turning to address her junior without a honorific. “As you've likely heard, neither I nor Koyomi are of any use when it comes to camping. So, we're relying on you, who seems to have led a rich campus life, to help us out— especially when it comes to tonight's barbecue.”
“Ah, well, I'm not sure I'd be of much help either. You both know how rustic I can be, so I only barbecue about once a week since starting college.”
More than enough, I'd say.
She’d probably already surpassed my entire lifetime's worth of barbecue experience by now.
“Hmm, I heard that glamping allows you to come empty-handed, but in the end, we still have to cook for ourselves, don't we?”
“Well, Araragi-senpai, it’s debatable if barbecue is considered 'cooking'…”
“Of course it's cooking. The way the meat is cut, the way it's skewered— all of it makes a difference in the taste.”
As we had never done this before, our attempts were admittedly mixed with quite a bit of Hitagi's conjecture. But, if the essence of cooking was in the gathering of ingredients, then this campsite had us newlyweds amply taken care of.
There was no shortage of food supplies or cooking utensils.
And they had even prepared a bouquet of naturally sourced flowers for our tent… and Hitagi seemed delighted with such a royal surprise, so I began to wonder whether I should broach the topic about the Shinobu thing out of the blue tomorrow night…
“Oh, speaking of which, Araragi-senpai… and Araragi-senpai.”
“Can you really tell the difference between us? Aren't you getting confused yourself?”
“Allow me to officiate today's barbecue, but tell me, how do you two usually handle food and cooking in your daily lives? I’m curious.”
“Well, I generally eat out. I hardly ever cook for myself anymore.”
“As for me, it's not like I cook, but I don't really eat out either. I bring take-out back to my place and eat at the boathouse.”
“I think you're mentioning living in a boathouse way too much, Araragi-senpai. Well, whether you and Araragi-senpai will share a boathouse or a trailer house in the future remains uncertain. But, I can't help but wonder, how would the household chores be divided up between the two of you?”
“We don’t drink sweet nectar all the time, you know.”
“That’s not really a phrase.”
“I work hard to afford a maid,” was Hitagi's Western-like reply.
She didn't seem to be joking.
“I'm sure Koyomi would have no objection to that. But, I must add, if this were high school Koyomi, he might become overly dependent on the maid. (Haha)”
“Don’t (Haha) me.”
I don't think I had ever demonstrated any particular liking for maids, but then again, our memories of the past can be quite unreliable, right? My nostalgia for only being interested in the braided glasses-wearing class president might very well be a distorted memory.
Well, I must admit that I'd never want to ask Hitagi to be a stay at home wife either, nor would I believe that I myself could handle all the household work flawlessly. Of all the various names one could use, “housekeeper” simply didn't suit us.
Rather than a maid, I had a feeling that hiring a housekeeper would maybe be the best answer for the Araragi household.
We did have the means, thanks to our double income, and considering that one of our jobs came with the risk to life, our salary was—classified, to say the least.
“Alright, I understand. Then, as a maid, I shall accompany you to the United States—”
“Don’t give up on your dreams.”
At least go to the U.S. to study at a medical school or something… Well, Kanbaru in high school might have seriously considered that, but it would be a light joke for twenty-three-year-old Kanbaru to make.
One could even call it a heavy joke.
“First of all, you're not exactly cut out for housework, are you? I never thought I'd be cleaning your house just a few days before my wedding.”
“I always thought that one day you would suddenly become capable of tidying up, but, alas, it never happened.”
“But still, my adorable Kanbaru, you're the only one who can't clean but can cook, right? And not just barbecue.”
That's a strong follow-up from Araragi-senpai.
So strong that Hitagi, who had taken Kanbaru along on our honeymoon, might have been seriously considering hiring her as a live-in housekeeper. If Shinobu was the adopted daughter, would Kanbaru be the babysitter?
That'd be quite the sitcom.
Putting it bluntly, it’d be a Full House.
Apparently, there's a sequel called Fuller House as well… I haven't seen it yet, but I definitely will someday.
“Well, to answer seriously, I want to be a sports doctor, which means that I would also be responsible for managing an athlete's diet in some capacity. That's why I'm currently working hard to learn a variety of dishes while I still can.”
That was a serious answer for sure. Even Hitagi wouldn't think of forcibly taking her once-junior to America after hearing that. It was as if she had drawn a line that couldn't be crossed.
In the strictest sense, managing nutrition should be a dietician's job, but the sense of mission to learn the basics of cooking for oneself was admirable enough to look up to.
“Thanks to that, I've become a better cook, but as you said, my cleaning is a different story. The kitchen sink’s always overflowing with dishes and food scraps.”
“Don't go expanding your territory, now.”
That remark caught me off-guard… Once the honeymoon is over and we return home, I must clean Kanbaru’s kitchen before leaving for America.
What a shame. I was impressed at first.
“Your sense of duty to clean up Kanbaru's territory is impressive, Koyomi. I take back what I said before, perhaps with you around, there's no need to hire a maid after all. We can handle meals with dining out and take-outs, can't we?”
“Hey, Araragi-senpai, how about we put Araragi-senpai in a maid outfit?”
“Regardless of whichever one of us were to wear it, adults don’t kid around, Kanbaru-kun.”
While leaving the cutting and skewering of the meat for the BBQ to the professional Kanbaru, it seems even I wouldn’t be without a job to do in this campsite. Following around Kanbaru, I'd earn my keep by diligently cleaning up dishes and food scraps.
“By the way, Koyomi, don’t you have to wake up Shinobu-san… I mean, Shinobu? There's enough food prepared for everyone, after all.”
“Ahh, it's alright. She usually only eats Mister Donut, anyway. Plus, the timing’s just right for me to let her suck my blood before heading to the Killing Stone.”
“I see. So, while it seems like an errand, you're actually taking it pretty seriously, huh?”
Well, yeah.
After all, our opponent was an aberration older than Shinobu— you can never be too cautious, and there's no guarantee that we won't end up caught in some sort of fox trap.
Prev Chapter | Next Chapter
Turtle Soup is a guessing game in which you repeatedly ask questions from a seemingly strange set of questions to arrive at an answer. It is also called lateral thinking quiz. The rules are simple, so even children can play. The other experiments should be well known, or search them on the web.
Pun on 細々, little details, and 細君(my dear), yet another word for wife.
日光nikko=sunlight
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francinosaurus · 6 months
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My Wonderful Experience with KATAGA-Tanghal: Lucena
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THIS IS MY ACHIEVEMENT OF THE YEAR! I'm very grateful that I was given a chance to be part of the production for this wonderful stage play.
I auditioned months ago to apply as prod for KATAGA-Tanghal: Lucena, but I wasn't called back until 3 months after. I was actually losing hope until Sir Lenard, who happens to be a prof in our school and also a member of the troupe, messaged me if I still want to be prod. Since its a dream to be a part of this organization, I immediately said yes.
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I HAVE LEARNED A LOT WITH THIS EXPERIENCE. I was assigned to be the technical head almost immediately after arriving to the venue. Okay, you might think, "Wow, that's an amazing position"....and I'll tell you... It was frustrating at some point. Look, I had my fair share of experience being in the technical department. I'm mostly skilled with the visuals controls but I'm also familiar with sounds and light operation so it was pretty easy to me until... I was also assigned to manage the lapels. OH MY FREAKING GHAAAAD! The lapels we had to use are just outright (forgive my words) b*llsh*t. The first thing I learned is how difficult it is to handle multiple wireless mic and lapels. My job first thing in the morning in set, is that I have to connect each transmitters to its corresponding receivers (its much harder than it sounds). And I did that everyday for almost an entire week. I also need to make sure that each and every mic were on different frequency so they wont interfere with each other.
I also had to regularly check the battery of each transmitter before and after shows. There was an instance where the battery was still around 70% percentage for the 2nd showing of the day, so to save some resources, I decided not to change it.  But, lo and behold! As the Murphy's Law states "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong," Things did go wrong and the battery died mid show. I developed trust issues with microphones because of this. The second thing I learned during this process is how to apply and tape mic to the actors. I learned how crucial the distance between the mic to the mouth to record the sounds of the actors properly but at the same time, avoiding the "airy" sounds we get from their breathing. Taping is also kinda hard, especially when they make up. The medical tape barely hold sometimes to different actors.
I really wish that they would have better quality wireless lapels next year 😭😭😭
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Now that I've done with the ranting...I'll tell you what I learned the most about during my experience. Since, as the technical head, taking noted of all the lights changes and their cues are also part of my job. This is the part of job that I actually enjoyed the most. The lights operator form AOZ was actually really friendly so it was very easy to work with him.
Back to topic... so since it is my job to take notes, I also took the opportunity to observe learn with the director. Direct Marco is amazing for all I could say. While I observing his decisions for the lighting for the whole play, I was able to witness color combinations that I never thought would work together. This made me realize that color and lights gives so much life to a play.
Direct Marco also gave me an advice when I expressed my amazement to him. He said that, with art, I should not always follow my instinct. Play a little bit more, if it doesn't work, that is when I follow my instinct.
I will keep that advice in my heart Direct Marco. <3
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THIS IS SOLID EXPERIENCE FOR ME. There's no way I would forget this learning journey I had with this production. I'm gonna miss my co-prods after this especially Ate Dara and Ate Elaine. They like to tease me a lot but they were really helpful for me to dissolve the awkward air I had for the first day. I will definitely join the productions again next year! See you KATAGA. BULAGIN NA SYAAAAA!!!
All the photos used for this blog is taken by Marcus Daniel Angay.
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themelancholyhill · 1 year
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I’m feeling better now that I’ve put some distance between that day and today. It was extremely difficult to finish that shift. When i got into bed that night, i told myself that it was ok, no one died and if no one caught the error it would have been fine actually. It turned out that the thing i didn’t do because i forgot to check what i was supposed to didn’t need to be done anyway. I had a bad day, we all get those. I told myself not to overlook the 99% of the other things i did manage to do. I’m trying to be more patient and kind to myself, it’s part of my therapy. It’s hard. Very very hard.
But let’s talk about you.
What do you mean “he got upset and stopped talking to me”? Did he say those exact words to you? If he did not, how did you arrive at this conclusion? We often self-blame way too quickly and assume that the other’s reactions to us is due to something we did. Based on my personal experience, it is untrue almost all of the time. Someone’s attitude and actions say more about what they’re going through than they do about us. But if what you say is true, that he really did get so offended by your joke that he stopped wanting to talk to you, then it’s a good thing. He obviously wasn’t mature enough to get that a joke is a joke, or even if he was offended, that a friendship with you was far more important than the misunderstanding of a joke. Being “good” or “bad” isn’t contingent on your interactions with people. I think i’m a good person, but i often dismiss my loved ones, i forget important dates, i’ve had my share of dead male friendships, i’ve hurt a friend i really loved and now i can’t talk to her anymore, i’ve done things i’m not proud of, all of that is the result of my lived experience, i am not a bad person just because i’ve made mistakes and poor decisions. You are not a bad person. There is no one that is all good, and there is no one that is all bad.
We may never know why this guy stopped talking to you. Relationships are voluntary, he isn’t obligated to talk to you or keep talking to you. Though hurtful, this sudden disinterest isn’t a crime. You’re not responsible for how he reacts to you. You are not a bad person. YOU ARE NOT A BAD PERSON.
The joke was a test to see if he was worthy to be in your circle of friends, he failed.
Be kind and patient with yourself. Have a lovely and delightful day, my friend.
V✖️
It's wonderful to know that you're feeling better now. Bad days happen and as difficult as it is, it's important to keep in mind that it'll pass eventually.
As for that guy, I admit that I was quick to jump to conclusions. My brain switched on overthinking mode instantly which proves that our mind is quick to blind our perception and convince us of the most terrible things about ourselves. Now, this is quite embarrassing, but the guy texted me back to congratulate me for passing the year. Apparently, he calmed down and chose not to be confrontational about it which explains why he was quick to dismiss the conversation, which is great tbh. Again, our mind is but a treacherous being. Healing from a heartbreak is really hard and moving on is even harder.
Your take on being a good or bad person is on point. Do you believe in doing good for the sake of doing good only?? I'm working on it actually!
I'm truly grateful to have you as my friend despite the distance. You cannot imagine how much your words mean the world to me and I'm not exaggerating (or maybe this is a better way to exaggerate). Have a wonderful day and if you have time, you can tell me about your plans for this summer.
I'm currently listening to this song by an Egyptian singer whose voice is just as smooth as butter. It's a +40 minute song but it takes you to a journey which I believe that's what music should do!
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Tales of Ealden Cynedom: 36. The Dormant Forge (2/5)
36. The Dormant Forge (chapter 2 - Fifteen Silver Short 2/5 ) part 8. Stories of Dreams.
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Everything was fine as Regina got he ticket to Hawkhaven. Mr. Topper took her on the daily train from Pepperidge, to The Grand Station; The international hub, historically symbolized peace. It represented The North Central of Francia, giving the world trains they invented, as a part of their peace treaty; According to the signs you could read while waiting for your transfer.  The ticket boys were adorable, and entranced by the black and green behemoth; Aches and brass lamps, eight platforms, and noisier than a firework festival.
When Mr. Topper chugged the train away, Reggie knew there was no turning back. She admired her green ticket; It had shinny pieces, to indicate authenticity, and a bunch of numbers, that must have meaning. Two hours later, a vending machine had eaten ten West-Silver from her pockets, leaving Regina hungry as her ticket was punched.
“Wait ma’am; I need to see a magic license if you’re bringing fey on board.” A ticket boy said. A line was forming behind the red-eye rail. Regina searched all eight pockets of her cargos, and pulled out her summoning note-book; She showed the first page, where she had scrap-booked the license into the cover.
“Have a nice trip ma’am!” The he nodded.
“Ma’am? I’m a magic-user; It’s Master, thanks. Also, how did you know my neckpiece held one of the most difficult fey to find?” Regina growled while boarding.
“Well, Master Geagmann, you have a gorgeous crystalline goblin behind you. She looks like a princess!” The ticked boy chimed. Wyvern hugged Reggie from behind.
“Thanks, I love my wife. Have an awesome day sir.” Reggie said casually, kissing Wyvern. The rest of the midnight trip, people either slept, or uncomfortably watched Reggie and Wyvern check off a list of romantic activities.
Strike midnight, and the train stopped at Holtwine Station; The boarder between The Grand West and Northlands. A station attendant boarded, and woke everyone to check their identities and tickets. He stopped at Regina last.
“All of them. On the table.” He said. Reggie was confused, and felt picked out. She normally felt the Celtician accent was happy, so his tone was off-putting. Reggie pulled out her passport, Grand West ID, and magic license. The attendant’s eyes narrowed as he read her ID.
“Master Geagmann, do you have a birth certificate? We check first-time travelers before giving the stamp of approval.”
“Bullshit.” A passenger yelled.
“Francian people need someone to vouch their character. Your stature and paler gives it away. Your posture even.”
“Sir, I’m slouching, quarter Danian, born Anglian, half Francian, annoyed, and want to talk to your manager.” Reggie growled, summoning her birth-certificate; Clearly stating she as born and raised in the Grand West, and in fact, not from The Central North of Francia. Regina felt like she was going to erupt. She’d accumulated small inconveniences which wore her thin. bubbling her anxiety about the fragility of aspirations. Making her feel unwelcome, at each stage of her quest. Wyvern stood up, and raised her hand. The attendant jumped back, yelling profanity.
“I’m half-human, can I vouch for her?” Wyverndor signed. She was mute, as rocks are, and learning sign language was one of her and Reggie’s bonding activities. The station didn’t have a translator, and Regina was escorted offboard, and give a caught at the station. They said it was for smuggling fey.
When Regina woke, she checked her necklace for Wyverndor, to thank her. At least her True Love was there. Regina briefly wondered, if she should have brought her father. Wyverndor turned human again, and lay next to Reggie.
“Just imagine how wonderful the forge will be, when you arrive! It will feel so deserved after a long journey. Oh look Reggie; They left you bread by the locked door.” Wyvern signed. Reggie groaned when she heard a knock. She clenched her fists for a proper slug, as she stood at the unlatching door. The officer was mishandling the keys. When the door opened, Reggie could see a cold sweat upon the officer’s brow.
“We called the embassy, and we don’t have a North Central department, because they seldom enter. Only postage and trade, I’m afraid. They also said the attendant was racist, and he’s on suspension. Our apologies ma’am. We’ll cover your ticket to your next destination, and help you apply for a work permit.” The officer assured. Reggie wasn’t amused.
“Thanks. It’s Master Geagmann by the way. I’m heading to Hawkhaven, if that’s ok.” Regina sighed. The officer paused, as if Regina was crazy for choosing that destination. Wyverndor climbed back into the necklace, as a ruby this time. The officer walked off for the documents, while Reggie yelled into the linins.
“I have a Happily Ever After; I’m enchanted with good fortune. My dream in nye. That forge is going to be so cool. So cool. So worth it.” She whimpered.
The next train had knots of sea creatures carved into the beams. Instead of benches along the windows facing each other, there were double seats all facing the same way. The maintained economy car, even had cushioned seats. Every inch was jewel-tones, from wood to carpet. Regina bought some mints, ale, and a sandwich off the trolly; And some crisps for Wyvern. As the train went, it emptied at Hassburry, the capitol, and continued in silence. Reggie walked around the empty car, looking through the windows. The green soft rolling hills had sheep, transformed into old growth forest, then marsh. Each mile under a dimmed sky that was about to rain. Steadily, the marsh turned rocky, and sun red. With a deafening screech, the train stopped at a frail bright orange station. The announcement said ‘End of Line’, and Regina disembarked.
Reggie’s face was slapped with cool air, and heat that radiated up her boots. Like a fever, or she was about to vomit. Finally at the destination, she kissed the blacked platform. The train turned off and cooled with a release of stream. Finally, the conductor jumped out and stretched.
“Wow, you must’ve come a long way to be our tourist! Never seen one kiss the floor though. The rumors are true by the way.” She gleamed. Reggie looked at the unhoused engine.
“Miss, you worried about Big Blitz here? She’ll be fine; Strong enough to survive without a barn. Let me show you to the pub!”
“I’m not a tourist, I’m your mage. A Warlock who can probably just transmute you a nice crate for Blitzen.”
“Oh, no… Mages are maniacal legendary beings! One used a blade of shadow, to cut down the city long ago, and stole a maiden on his way back, after failing to conquer us. Another used to make us toys from the screaming fires, past the glowing ridge. We don’t need one of those! We have families and live modest lives; I’m begging you to go.” She quivered.
“Come on, I just need to go dark on the gate, craft the unimaginable, and care for the fey. Won’t even know I’m there.”
“you want to make the voices stop, make trinkets, and live in the ridge then? So, you’re not dangerous, just mad?”
“Yup. I’m a normal person. Oh, but you should also meet my one-and-only; She’s crown princess of the stone Kingdom!” Reggie smiled. The conductor stepped back slowly. Reggie slouched further, and started staggering to the rumbling volcanic dam, looming over the town.
“Rain check for getting wasted at the pub when I’m done?” Reggie yelled to the conductor, who hid behind the ticket booth.
NEXT--->
<---PREVIOUS
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Moon Licks - Week 2
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With initial organisation of Week 1 out of the way, I was pleased to finally dive into patterning and sewing again. Following on from last week, I set about making Spider’s jacket and Shark’s chap trousers ready for the fitting at the end of the week.
In an attempt to improve myself based on last term’s feedback, I resolved to work more on the stand when drafting patterns and speed up my workflow. An added challenge came in the form of padding a stand to fit the measurements of Spider’s actor. The workroom did not have a male mannequin with a narrow enough chest so I had the idea to pad out a women’s mannequin instead. It wasn’t perfect but I had to keep reminding myself that for the nape to waist measurement to be correct the hip measurement would be bigger than required. I wrote this down so I wouldn’t forget. 
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Between this method and elements of flat drafting, I found I could produce this much quicker than usual. The most awkward part I found was developing a draped collar. Were I to flat draft the jacket, I would trace off the neckline of the paper pattern, so I applied that principle using carbon paper on calico.
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Likewise on Shark’s chaps, I took pride in myself for learning to make shortcuts. Rather than spend up to an hour drafting a trouser block, I traced the silhouette of bodysuit already selected for the actor for my initial starting point and used the measurement sheet to fine tune the details. 
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As for my other assisting responsibilities, I find myself struggling under my designer. I will admit that administration is not my strongest suit and needs to be worked on in future. I’m more than happy to be presented with a to-do list and left to work completing tasks independently, but I have a bad habit of fixating upon making lists within lists in an attempt to keep myself on track. 
I did wonder this week if my designer is of the same mindset, as I had a great deal of trouble trying to extract any form of a plan from them in terms of workload deadlines. I did my best to remind them of the upcoming fitting sessions and tried to formulate a plan to prioritise which costumes needed to be fitted first. To me, it seemed the most logical to ensure that the made elements were brought to be fitted first in order to check fit as early as possible. This would avoid the period of last-minute stress sewing that occurred during ‘Grimm Tales’. From this a list was drawn up of which garments needed to be made up in toile form ready. However, as deliveries of the bought garments started arriving this plan was swiftly ignored. 
Because of this, seven of the eight costumes were brought to be fitted, which I found to be a mentally and physically draining experience. Logistics became the first issue, as it became a matter of transporting all the garments, shoes and accessories across town to the rehearsal venue. Secondly, I found socialising with the actors in the close quarters of a cupboard very difficult, particularly with the knowledge our presence was disturbing the actors’ monologue practise. With little break between each fitting to collect our thoughts, I found communication between the designer and myself to break down. Admittedly my professionalism was starting to slip towards the end of the session as my social batteries were running low. Despite this, I did my best to use what energy I had left to record as many notes as possible. I found Post-its useful for quick fire thoughts that could be expanded into full observations after the fact. 
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I was particularly frustrated to find that the jacket I had made for Spider was both too short and too small due to measurements the designer had taken. While I can appreciate the difficulties of the designer in trying to manage multiple different decisions being made at once, I was still irritated and felt that my time was wasted over the week, and that extra time would have to be spent recutting the entire garment. However, I also believe that my aforementioned dip in energy was colouring my views negatively. I took a new set of measurements and recorded them with the other observations. 
The Friday was spent at home ill, with what I’m realising with hindsight was social burnout. I collated the above mentioned notes into lists of tasks organised per character. These were then written up into a large document for the workroom for the satisfaction of physically crossing jobs off. 
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midnight-writing · 2 years
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Love and Other Lies Pt.2
Pairing: Eli “Hawk” Moskowitz x Reader
Series: Cobra Kai (Starts at the end of season 2)
Pt.: 2/? (Pt. 1)
Summary: During Moon’s party Hawk needs a girlfriend fast and you get dragged into his lie. (Starts during the end of season 2 beware of spoilers)
Word Count: 1,027
Warnings: Mentions of blood and minor wounds
A/N: Thank you so much for all the notes on the first part! :D. I hope you all enjoy this part just as much if not more.
Well, lunch never happened.
Whatever happened at the party last night spurred another fight between the local karate dojos. Even though you were supposed to be dating one of the boys involved, you decided it was best to stay out of the fight. Even when your best friend and ‘boyfriend’ started throwing fists. From your spot in the crowd it was a bit difficult to see who was winning, then glass shattered. You managed to finally squeeze your way to the front to find out who was the cause of the broken trophy case.
Demetri had managed to shove Hawk into it and now he sat there covered in glass. Before much else could happen everyone went quiet then a scream sounded out.
Here you were now, standing in front of Eli as he sat on a bench in the nurse’s office. Those who didn’t need to be taken to the hospital were told to go to the nurse’s room if needed. You dragged Hawk there to help with the glass, despite his reluctance and worry for Miguel. Fortunately, Demetri had left a few minutes ago and wouldn’t feel the need to question your actions.
“Did any glass fall inside your shirt?” You asked, you’d seen the way he’d fallen and you knew that it was at least a possibility. He handed you his jacket which you gently shook out over the trash. By the time you turned back around he’d already taken his shirt off. You took it and shook it over the bin too. Once finished, you set it next to him then gave his torso a once over. Grabbing an alcohol prep pad you cleaned off a couple spots before walking behind him to check his back too. It was hard to tell because of his tattoo but, from what you could tell, there were no cuts.
“Looks good to me,” you replied as you walked back in front of him to focus on his face.
“Why are you doing this?” the red-haired boy asked in a hushed tone as you picked the remaining glass off his hair. “Wouldn’t it look suspicious if I didn’t help my boyfriend?” You replied in an equally soft voice. “Just hurry up okay?” He spoke as you held a cotton pad soaked in rubbing alcohol against his cheek, touching a few different spots. The nurse was helping other students so you figured you’d get started with everything you could help with. You weren’t sure what would require stitches but the glass had caused some minor cuts along his face, those you could deal with.
Once you did all that you could you waited outside the room. The school nurse looked him over and soon a paramedic ended up arriving to help out due to the amount of injured students… and teachers…
You waited outside as they gave him stitches, he walked out holding an ice pack to his chin which he promptly tossed in the trash once he was out of the nurse’s view. You would’ve questioned it but you knew his likely answer: ‘Ice packs were for the weak’, or something along those lines at least.
Both of you agreed to discuss the terms later. Miguel was more important to him for the time being and you understood that.
You two texted sparingly, mostly just trying to figure out a meeting time. He was busy with Cobra Kai and you were busy with plans you’d made with Demetri.
You both decided to spend some time at the mall the weekend before your ‘second first day of school’. It was around three when you guys were making your most important stop, according to Demetri, the comic book store. He was looking over a collection of comics when you caught sight of a red Mohawk outside the shop window.
You heard the ding of a notification, you reached for your phone but paused when Demetri spoke up, “My mom wants me home, are we good to go?” He replied and you turned your focus from the large window back to your best friend. “Yeah, did you find the one you were looking for?” You asked, looking down toward the small pile in his hand, wow it had accumulated fast. He nodded with a smile, “Maybe next weekend you can hang out and catch up on the series?” He offered to which you agreed.
You two went to the checkout then walked out of the store and toward an exit. After exchanging goodbyes you looked down at your phone. You we’re about to text for a ride when your phone was pulled out of your hand. “Ya know, when we were texting it made me realize that we probably need to change our contact names,” Hawk spoke as you watched him scroll through your phone, presumably looking for his contact.
You tried to take your phone from him but he just turned his back to you. “We haven’t even made our agreement yet,” you argued. “Then what was that act after school then?” He had a point. He turned back toward you and handed you your phone. “You’re kidding right?” You raised an eyebrow at the silly name.
“What? It’s the same one Moon used,” he looked down at the phone screen. “We’ll I’m not Moon and the moment one of my friend’s sees that, they’re going to know something’s up,” you shook your head and edited it to your liking. “There,” you showed him.
You then took a second to change your name on his phone. It was something you thought was sweet but not too out of character for the boy.
“What are you doing here anyway?” You ask him, you knew he’d seen you with Demetri. “I just needed to grab some things,” he replied, holding the plastic bag away from your view, then continued, “Do you have time to talk about our deal?” You did.
Once situated at a cafeteria table, both sipping some soda, you opened the notes app on your phone and began.
“Alright, my main condition…,” you looked up from your phone to him, “You have to lay off Demetri for the duration of our relationship,” he frowned, you could tell he didn’t like that. “Fine,” he huffed. “And,” he looked at you incredulously, “I can tell Demetri the truth if I see fit,” he grimaced, “That snitch will tell everyone,” I crossed my arms. “He’s not a snitch…okay maybe he can be, but I’ll make sure he doesn’t,” you pleaded. Fortunately, he agreed but made a point that it would only be done when absolutely necessary.
You discussed a few other things like attending movie night with his friends, needing to go to the Halloween Dance, if it doesn’t get canceled, that is.
“Alright, sign here,” you slid your phone over to him. He chuckled, “Seriously?” You gave him a look to let him know that you were indeed serious. “Alright, whatever you want…,” you took the phone back after and added your own signature. Then you shared it with him. “So when does this all start?” You asked as you both stood up.
He wrapped an arm around your shoulder as a small group of teens walked up, “Now…call it practice”.
----
Taglist: @maggiecc @dazeddance
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yaomomvs · 3 years
Text
— BEING INARIZAKI’S TEAM MANAGER AND A SECRET VOLLEYBALL PLAYER
inarizaki x f!manager
this is part of a hcs series, let me now what team you want next <3
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okay so actually you ended being the manager because the girls volleyball team had already closed the application time
so you you were really looking forward to it and omg you were so sad about it
after being rejected, you were just peacefully going through the gym and you heard laughter from a bunch of guys
you recognized kosaku since he was in your class and waved at him.
and so, they were talking about getting a manager since this team is pretty much a lot to handle
and so since kosaku knew you were hard working and that the first idea that popped out oh his head was that if you wanted to try out.
kita respectfully introduced himself and asked if you were willingly try out 🥺🥺🥺 like what a man 🥺🥺
and mostly because the twins having fangirls always made this process kind of difficult, so instead kita and aran wanted to make sure it was someone who at least was trusted by one of them
and not to brag but bestie you are gorgeous
so it was a win win
atsumu refused to this because as the jerk he usually is, he said that he didn’t need any help
that son of a bitch
he was being soooo petty mainly after you said “oh don’t worry kita, idiots are not my type”
osamu fell in love with you ❗️
and aran
and suna
and well the team.
and so, looking at the other court where the girl vbc was training you said that it was something.
every! single! practice! is! chaotic!
but somehow you managed them so well
atsumu is still trying to prove that he doesn’t but oh boy he is the first one to requiere your help
you better believe this guys are your simps and are constantly competing over someone who a year ago could never imagine they had
your attention? the best way to prove each other they were superior
in away games, god bless the idiot that wants to even dares to try to do a move on you
they are lowkey intimidating
not but seriously
specially and surprisingly kita and aran
son como esos niños mamones fresas que de cierto modo les tienes miedo
besides
this team? over the moon for you
and tbh, they were so grateful for you, you did a lot for them that they started to feel some kind of embarrassing how before they wouldn’t know how to do basic stuff like cooking for camps, labeling they jerseys correctly, searching for new equipment like they love you
anyways that however was kinda sus to them
it all started when somehow you learned so quickly, and the technical stuff was not hard to understand as to others
surprisingly the first one to notice was suna
you could have said something but tbh
you still look forward to play volleyball like more seriously even as a hobby
BUT
BUT
you’d rather be dead than telling your team that’s what you wanted because
a) they could think you only joined to learn volleyball and not help them
b) you had your pride, you want to be recognized by your own merits rather than “of course, they are inarizaki’s manager if they weren’t they could have never been this good”
so you still played volleyball but hid from them
there was a gym nearby where constant tournaments were held
you were a ghost because knowing damn well your boys could go there at any moment you decided to take some precautions
like nickname and position was everything they knew about you
your teammates loved you, so they respected your private life, and it was kind of cool
but what you were not expecting is that for some reason, omimi had followed you one day bc you forgot something after practice.
being a friday it meant for some weird reason you always rushed out
“sus” suna says everytime
so he catches you going out to the gym and maybe, he thought, you were just going to workout or see someone
BUT THIS GUYS EYEBALLS ALMOST FALL WHEN HE SEES TOY RUSH AND TAKE OFF YOUR SCHOOL UNIFORM SHIRT AND TIE TO FUCKING REVEAL A JERSEY WUTH A #3 on it
bye you broke him
and so he tries to process it normally
key word: tries
and here we are him being interrogated by the team incredulous to his words.
ay first they interrogated him being overprotective by the fact that he was spending more time with you but when he tells them what he saw god dammit
they loose it when they find out.
and so, tsumu says something that everyone agrees with him for the first time
“let’s go and spy”
“i swear to god if y/n finds out...”
“shut up aran, unless you want to make it obvious and reveal our identity dumbass!”
“tsumu, the disguises are awful”
“come on kita not you too!”
“what if”
“akagi shut up all of you agreed with the idea”
“osamu you suck”
and so there they go. trying to find you in the sea of people at the entrance, not having a clear view yet, they only search for the navy blue and white uniform that omimi described to them when he saw you.
and then almost as if it was the gods plan, they started hearing whispers of people around mentioning the arrival of one of the most popular teams out there.
“come on what the big deal-” suna started saying, however your figure appeared and he instantly turned into a babbling mess.
as well as the rest of inarizaki vbc.
osamu had to double check to assure himself that it indeed was you, beautiful as ever, walking alongside your hot and apparently talented team.
minutes later, they were standing in the bleachers as quiet as they could. they spotted you.
“A SETTER” atsumu jumped of his seat and had to be scolded by aran who was also surprised by the position you were going to be playing.
“wasn’t expecting that” ginjima talks saying what everyone was currently thinking.
behind them was a couple of guys, who apparently did not know how lower their comments.
“the setter is kinda cute” “wow look at that” oml please even aran who was the voice of reason had the urge to punch them in the face.
still they decided to just focus on your game who has now been started. and even tho they wanted to not do it, they couldn’t help analyzing you and your moves in the court. it was natural, well because they were players and very good ones it’s inevitable for them to compare and to study the way you played more than anything.
they were not expecting you to be this good. almost everything in your technique was polished, your tema work was remarkable and god bless your ability to read the blockers.
but there was a moment when they just saw the panoramic view of your skills. atsumu could see your tired expression, the sweat on your body, he just knew you were feeling now the adrenaline of the last moments of the set.
still you yelled a “we will take it” and then, with the others team hope hanging on a thread, the ball came to your libero, which perfectly passed the ball to you.
there was greed in your eyes, so scary that kita for a moment feared for the other team.
and it was when you did the setter dump that your whole team stood up in pure shock.
who were you and why were you hiding?
sadly the boys screamed way too loud which lead to you, after you made the last point and give the history to your tema, lifted up your gaze and saw a bunch of idiots wearing hats and everything in between.
suna and tsumu ran the fastest in the team directly to the gate, and the with a bunch of losers behind them,
because after everything you were there arms crossed and a murderous look in your eyes.
“IM TOO YOUNG TO DIE Y/N” “osamu shut up!”
they, once you made sure to pinch each and everyone’s ears, starred bombarding questions on how did you managed to learned that and why you did ikr tell them
“come on guys, in school i’m already looked down at just because it’s you! so could you imagine me being a inarizaki student trying to move without your name?”
kita forced them to shut up and aran felt a a kind of guilt
as week as everyone else
“don’t worry y/n, we know now what it’s like to not being your own author.”
and so, they just told you how proud they were.
“maybe we are jerks but y/n we are your jerks, and over there or respect to you has just grown up”
suna the says “you’ve been there all of the time for a while now, i guess it out time to return the favor”
and so ever since then they alwaaaaays try to be at your games
like pls once the referee said one of your serves was out and from the bleachers he screaaaaaaamed, he claims that it was definitely in
kita always gives you some food after a game or practice
talking about practice
even if you are there for being a manager they always try to, at least half an hour before ending practice, they have a quick game with you playing alongside them or just including you in their repeats etc
and goooood bless once again anyone who tried to look down at you.
because after being constantly on you games ofc people started recognizing them as the inarizaki power house
if they heard someone relying your talent on them pls make sure they five them the coldest look ever
like ‘nah bro i dare you to say that one more time’
*knive eyes*
and
even some girls attend your games trying to flirt with them
you know what they do?
they brush them off and say “sorry, my type is y/n” suna says and the are 😳
pretty much everyone does this
come on even aran
inarizaki best boys 🥺🥺🥺
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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
Note
prompt: JGY working for JGS post sunshot is an elaborate scheme he and NHS cooked up one night and he is simply biding his time until JGS does something irredeemable he can report to NHS.
In Here, With Me - ao3 (chapter 2/3)
This is what I wanted, Meng Yao reminded himself at the ceremony where his father gave him a new name and he found out it was an insult.
This is what I wanted, he thought as he watched his father’s men slaughter innocents, acting on his order and at his command.
This is what I wanted, he thought as he was used as a pimp and procurer, as a punching bag for his new ‘mother’, as a convenient scapegoat – as even his proposed marriage was mocked and unreasonably delayed – as he was denied basic privileges and treated as little better than a servant.
Worse, in some cases.
This is what I –
“San-ge!” Nie Huaisang called out, waving frantically, and behind him Nie Mingjue looked default-face neutral but actually, if you knew him well enough, extraordinarily long-suffering. “San-ge! I want to talk to you! About important things!”
If you knew Nie Huaisang, you knew that important things, to Nie Huaisang, included pretty clothing, pretty accessories, pretty birds, pretty people, and spying.
Jin Guangyao put a smile on his face, and for the first time in weeks, actually meant it.
“Any time, Huaisang,” he said. “Why don’t you come inside?”
-
“I hate it,” he told Nie Huaisang, who was trying to look understanding but actually mostly looked smug. “I figure I have two options on what to do about that. Learn to accept my lot in life –”
“Or kill them all and take over?”
“…three options. I was going to say that I was thinking of accepting your earlier offer, but if you really prefer, that second option seems perfectly plausible –”
“No, no, it’s a terrible option,” Nie Huaisang said, waving his hands. “I mean, you’d have to keep it hidden that you did it, you’d spend all your life worrying about someone finding out about it, and anyway, Lan Xichen would be so disappointed in you. How could you live with yourself?”
Quite well as long as he never found out, Jin Guangyao thought, but he acknowledged that all those points were correct. Especially the one about not wanting to live in utter paranoia for the rest of his life.
“What’s your plan?” he asked instead.
Nie Huaisang smiled.
-
“I can’t believe you,” Nie Mingjue said when Jin Guangyao first arrived in the Unclean Realm for a visit to his sworn brother, mulling over his father’s order to find out anything useful he could about Nie Mingjue’s intentions, and the critiquing tone made Jin Guangyao’s back go straight with fear that he would find here only the same disdain as he found in Lanling City. “Why do you listen to Huaisang and not to me? It’s simply unfair.”
Right, Jin Guangyao thought, his shoulders loosening. Right. It’s different here.
“We speak the same language,” he said.
“What language is that?” Nie Mingjue grumbled. “Fan semaphore? Anyway, stop dawdling by the door and get in here already. I told the kitchen to make your favorites since I know you and he will be spending half the day drinking tea and plotting mischief.”
Jin Guangyao nodded, and in a moment of recklessness added, “Would you tell me what your plans are for the position of Chief Cultivator?”
“It should be abolished,” Nie Mingjue said at once. “Why do we need someone to boss us all around?”
A standard Nie Mingjue answer, Jin Guangyao supposed.
“And your next moves to accomplish that?”
Nie Mingjue blinked owlishly at him. “I’m busy rebuilding my sect,” he said. “I can worry about politics later, can’t I?”
Jin Guangyao sighed and went to talk to Nie Huaisang instead.
-
“The wonderful thing about da-ge is that he means well,” Nie Huaisang said. “The terrible thing about da-ge…”
“Is that he means well,” Jin Guangyao agreed.
-
“We could use demonic cultivation as a lever, no one likes that,” Jin Guangyao suggested, but Nie Huaisang shook his head.
“I’m planning on rehabilitating Wei-xiong,” he said. “And the Wen boy, Wen Ning – he was nice.”
“That seems unnecessarily difficult.”
“Just you wait.”
-
“Wait. We’re framing my father?”
“Don’t think of it as framing, san-ge! Think of it as allowing him the rope he can use to hang himself.”
“…has anyone ever told you that you’re ruthless, Huaisang?”
“Hmm. Da-ge, when fighting me for the last sweet. Does that count?”
“No.”
-
“…I take it back,” Jin Guangyao said, watching Nie Mingjue nurse his wounded hand and even more wounded pride after an abject loss at the dining room table. “Huaisang, you can have the last sweet, and also the title of ‘most ruthless’.”
“I told you!”
-
“Does that mean you’ll agree to my plan, then?”
“Don’t make me regret this.”
-
“I’m willing to play along with your stupid plan,” Nie Mingjue said, which came as a surprise to both Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang – not least of which because as far as Jin Guangyao knew, they hadn’t actually told Nie Mingjue what they were planning. “But I have some conditions.”
Jin Guangyao turned to look at Nie Huaisang, who looked as surprised as he was, and then turned to stare at Nie Mingjue’s retreating back: he’d only briefly put his head in to check on them in between other tasks, and as Jin Guangyao well knew, his schedule was packed – it was no surprise he didn’t stay.
“Does he know what the plan is?” he asked Nie Huaisang. “Or was he just guessing that he’d have a role to play?”
“I have no idea,” Nie Huaisang said. “Sometimes he surprises me.”
Jin Guangyao nodded thoughtfully. “We should go figure out his conditions,” he said, and Nie Huaisang nodded. “And also how he managed to learn about the plan, assuming he did.”
“What else could you be planning?” Nie Mingjue asked irritably when they finally managed to corner him. “I know what both of you are like, I know what your goals are; the rest of it all falls out quite naturally from that. Have you figure out yet how you’re planning on fixing the Wei Wuxian problem?”
“Setting up an opportunity for rampant heroics. He won’t be able to resist.”
Nie Mingjue nodded.
“What are your conditions, da-ge?” Jin Guangyao asked.
“Jin Zixuan doesn’t die if you can help it, and Jiang Cheng becomes Chief Cultivator if someone has to have the job,” Nie Mingjue said. “I do not want to get stuck with it, and anyway we’re getting him his head disciple back; he can deal.”
Those conditions seemed reasonable, although the Jin Zixuan bit might be a little annoying.
“And in exchange for that, you’ll play along?”
Nie Mingjue nodded. He had that long-suffering look again. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”
-
“A-Yao, you’re sure you really don’t mind?” Jin Zixuan asked a third time. “I’m sure this wasn’t what you thought you’d be getting when you were accepted to Lanling Jin –”
“What part?” Jin Guangyao asked. “Our father engaging in crimes and trying to blame me for them, no one believing him and deposing him as sect leader, or the fact that you’d like me to be sect leader for a few years while you focus on raising your children?”
“…all of that, really,” Jin Zixuan said. “Mostly the last one, though.”
“I promise I don’t mind at all,” Jin Guangyao said, and smiled.
On the contrary, he thought. This is what I wanted.
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Text
Emergency Contact
Summary: When Spencer ends up in the hospital again, his emergency contact — who happens to be his boyfriend, Luke Alvez — is called. Too bad he hasn't told the team about him yet...
Tags: whump, h/c, hurt spencer, broken ribs, coming out, relationship reveal, protective derek, team as family, fluff, au: different first meeting
Pairing: Luke Alvez x Spencer Reid // (heavy on the Derek & Spencer friendship, too)
Word Count: 2.6k
Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo
Okay, so Emily was not in S11, but for this fic she is, because I wanted supportive Penemily and that's what I gave myself. Other than that, this fills the square "broken ribs" for my Bad Things Happen bingo card. Enjoy the whump mixed with fluff!
Spencer doesn’t mean to get hurt again, but he also isn’t exactly surprised when it happens. If anything, Hotch really needs to stop sending him out to scope places and suspects out by himself. Surely Tobias Hankel proved he’s a trouble magnet in that regard years ago.
The summerhouse the suspect rents is a nice enough place to lay incapacitated while he waits for back-up, he supposes, but he’s not exactly able to lie and enjoy the sunshine when his ribs have been smashed in with a metal baseball bat and he knows the suspect is currently hightailing it down the beach. Not to mention the fact that it’s worryingly difficult to breathe.
Still, it’s better than a dilapidated cabin in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere Georgia, pumped full of heroin while his feet are whipped. Small mercies.
“Goddamnit, Spencer, again?” Derek asks amusedly when he finally arrives and crouches down by his side, but the undercurrent of worry in his voice doesn’t elude him.
“Sorry,” he wheezes, still winded and in immense pain from the ambush. “I didn’t see him coming.”
Derek raises a brow, chuckling slightly. “Yeah, pretty boy, I figured that.” His hand goes to Spencer’s hair as his expression furrows in concern again. “Did you see where he went? I’ll send the others after him while I go with you to the hospital.”
Spencer smiles a little, relieved that he won’t be alone. It’s become a strange sort of tradition to sit in one another’s hospital rooms after the job kicks their ass, and he’s glad Derek isn’t about to break it now.
“I saw him turn right out of the backdoor, but that’s all,” he says breathlessly, before cringing at the effort and folding in on himself even more.
“Okay, Spencer,” Derek says soothingly. “Just relax. The ambulance will be here any second.”
He obeys and closes his eyes as he listens to Derek call Hotch on the radio and send the team in the right direction before coming back to sit next to him on the floor.
“This might be one of the nicer places one of our unsubs has owned, huh?”
Spencer nods, mirroring Derek’s morbid amusement. “Crime pays better than investigating it,” he manages, smiling up at his friend.
He snorts. “You can say that again. With the way the market’s turned in the last couple years it’s more like this is my hobby and my properties are my day job, rather than the other way round.”
Spencer tries to reply, but he moves involuntarily in amusement, and a fresh wave of pain has him wincing again, trying to will the tears away.
“You’re alright, Spence,” Derek says gently, his hand returning to his hair. “Help will be here soon, okay?”
Thankfully, the medics do show up in a semi-timely fashion, and both of them are loaded into the back of the ambulance as the EMTs check him over, Derek’s hand not leaving his person unless it absolutely has to.
“How many times were you hit, Dr Reid?”
He cringes. “Four.” It’s almost embarrassing that the unsub got four hits in, and the only reason there weren’t more is because he was fleeing the scene, not because Spencer was able to fight back. He tries to remind himself that there isn’t much you can do when caught-off guard by a furious arsonist armed with a steel baseball bat, but his ego is still bruised. Albeit not as badly as his poor ribs.
“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Derek mutters under his breath, his grip tightening on Spencer’s shoulder minutely enough for him to know he isn’t doing it consciously.
Spencer smiles appreciatively, closing his eyes against the pain. The non-narcotic painkillers they’re feeding him through the IV really aren’t doing anything.
“I think you’ve managed to avoid internal bleeding,” the EMT says, all though he tacks on a pointed, “just. But I’m concerned about the possibility of a punctured lung. There’s a chance your trouble breathing is solely pain-induced, but I don’t like the way your chest sounds. The doctors will check everything out when we get to the hospital, and get you all patched up.”
“Hold in there,” Derek says urgently. “I really can’t have you dying on me, pretty boy.”
Spencer smiles as comfortingly as he can through the immense pain in his chest and his mangled breathing. “Trust me, I don’t intend on it.”
The x-ray reveals two broken ribs and confirms the paramedic’s suspicions of a punctured lung, although thankfully, minor enough to not require surgery. He’s set up with oxygen and regular nurse check-ups in a quiet room after the doctor is able to remove the excess air in his chest cavity.
“How are you doing, Spence?” Derek asks worriedly as he pulls up a chair next to Spencer’s bed as soon as he’s allowed to see him.
He pulls away his oxygen facemask to answer. “A bit better,” he says, but his voice is dry and raspy from the oxygen so he certainly doesn’t sound it. “The pain meds are actually working now.”
Derek’s tight, anxious expression relaxes slightly. “That’s at least something.”
Spencer nods tiredly, but before he can respond, a nurse is popping her head round the door. “Dr. Reid,” she says genially, “sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to let you know that we’ve managed to get a hold of your emergency contact, and they’re on their way.”
Spencer’s eyes widen. How could he have forgotten? Granted, he was a little preoccupied with the whole punctured lung, broken ribs thing, but how could he have let it slip his mind that this little accident would lead to the secret he’s been keeping under wraps getting out?
When he’d first met Luke at an FBI gala last year, he never could have foreseen the most intimate and special relationship of his life coming to fruition, but it had. They’d connected on so many different levels, and the chemistry between them felt like something out of one of the fantastical romance novels Penelope reads, and when he’d asked if it was okay for Spencer to put Luke down as his updated emergency contact, he’d been rewarded with a wide, beautiful grin and a firm, heartfelt kiss.
It was serious enough, sure, and they were coming up on having been together for a year, but besides Emily and Penelope — who’d met Luke and developed an amusing, playful rivalry with him — he hadn’t introduced him to anyone on the team.
“On their way?” Derek asks, raising an eyebrow in mild confusion. “Isn’t your contact Hotch? He already knows you’re in the hospital.”
Spencer just stares at him like a rabbit caught in the headlights, completely blanking on something to say. They’re working a local case, so it won’t be long before Luke is bursting into his hospital room armed with cuddles and comfort, and as much as he craves that, he’s too busy panicking about his team finding out to really look forward to it.
Eventually, after watching Derek’s face morph into even stronger, more suspicious confusion, he gives up. They’re going to find out anyway. “I’m dating someone.”
Derek’s face lights up. “Pretty boy!” he exclaims happily, playfully pushing his shoulder as gently as he can. “That’s amazing! Why didn’t you say something? What’s her name?”
Ah. That’s the primary reason he hadn’t told his team about Luke. He’s nowhere close to being ashamed about his sexuality, he accepted himself decades ago, but he’s still not worked up the courage to share that part of himself with his team. Excluding Penelope and Emily who have been together for years (he’s still baffled as to how the others haven’t caught on yet), everyone’s in the dark.
It had started as a basic survival tactic. He’d joined the FBI two years younger than the standard entry age in the early 2000s, and he was far too concerned with just getting by than living outwardly as a gay man. And then, as time went by and he knew his team was accepting and welcoming, he found it too awkward to try and correct people when they assumed he was straight. There just wasn’t ever the right time.
“I’m gay.”
Derek’s happy expression falls and for a split second, Spencer feels a flash of panic. Maybe Derek’s okay with gay people as long as they’re not his immediate friends, as long as he doesn’t playfully call them ‘pretty boy’ and play with their hair when they’re injured, maybe—
“Well, what’s his name, then?”
Spencer looks up from his panic, seeing Derek smiling again, eyes maybe even brighter than they were just seconds ago.
“Wait—”
“Spencer, if you think I’m gonna care that you’re gay — if you think any of us will care that you’re gay, then you have another thing coming,” Derek reassures him. “Wait, that isn’t why you didn’t tell us right?”
He suddenly looks distraught at the idea that Spencer might not have felt comfortable coming out to him, and Spencer rushes to correct him. “No! No, I know everyone would be fine with it, I just didn’t really know how to say it. Penelope and Emily know, but only by accident.”
Derek relaxes, chuckling a little. “I’m sure there’s quite a story there.”
Spencer blushes. “Maybe.”
“I’ll find out later,” he says confidently, winking at him, and something in Spencer loosens at the fact that Derek hasn’t changed his behaviour at all. “But I’m more interested in Mr. Sexy Emergency Contact Mystery Boyfriend Man right now.”
Spencer outright laughs at that, before wincing painfully as his ribs twinge, and he has to fit the oxygen mask around his face again and breathe deeply for a couple of breaths before the nasal cannula can suffice again.
“I met him around this time last year at an FBI gala actually,” Spencer manages. “Everyone on our team bailed except Penelope, Emily, and me. He’s called Luke and he works in the Fugitive Task Force. We just clicked as soon as we met, you know? We have this chemistry that I’ve never felt with anyone before, and we started dating pretty quickly. We actually moved in together last month when his lease was up, but we’re thinking of moving to a bigger, nicer place in Mount Pleasant. Luke’s actually had his eye on this one house that went up…”
He trails off when he notices Derek looking at him strangely, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “What?”
“Nothing,” Derek says gently. “You just look happy, pretty boy. When you started talking about Luke you got this happy, dopey smile on your face, and I’ve just never seen you like that. It’s nice.”
“Oh.” He blushes fiercely at the acknowledgement of just how soft he is for his boyfriend, but it’s not embarrassing, he’s just ridiculously happy and head over heels in love.
Still, feeling a little awkward at the attention, he raises the oxygen mask to his face just for something to do.
“Does he treat you well?” Derek asks seriously, suddenly looking like the FBI tough guy he really is.
Spencer grins and nods, pulling the mask away again. “So good. He’s one of those people that looks out for everyone before himself, you know? He listens to my rambles and tangents like he actually knows and cares about what I’m saying, and he insists on making me every meal we’re both home for. Every day off, he brings me breakfast in bed, and he’ll even suffer through my documentaries even though his favourite thing to watch is action movies. He’s the best boyfriend I could hope for.”
“Good,” Derek says fiercely, even though he’s smiling just a little at the thought of Spencer being taken care of. “But if anything ever changes, I won’t hesitate to—”
“Spencer?” Derek’s interrupted by the door flying over, and a very harried looking Luke Alvez rushing towards the bed, seemingly not noticing the man literally threatening his death right next to him. “Oh my God, Spencer, I was so worried, I thought—”
“Hey, it’s okay,” Spencer says, voice still a little weak. Can’t he at least sound convincing when he’s trying to tell these people that he’s fine? “I’m okay, I’ll be out of here before you know it.”
“Are you sure, baby? Do I need to get the doctor? Have they been looking after you, because I swear—”
“Luke,” he laughs, interrupting his worried tangent. “I’m fine, I promise.”
He watches amusedly as Luke sags with relief. “Oh thank God,” he breathes, and it’s then that he appears to notice Derek. “Oh, shit.”
He looks to Spencer with an alarmed look in his eyes, knowing full well that he isn’t out to his team yet, but before apologies can start dripping off his lips, he rushes to fill him in.
“It’s okay. I told him.”
Luke’s face brightens in an illuminating smile, his eyes wide and happy. “You did? I’m so proud of you, cariño.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Derek says, rising from his chair to shake Luke’s hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you in the last ten minutes.”
Luke grins. “All good things, I hope.”
Derek winks teasingly at Spencer. “Oh, better than good. Spencer here seems quite gone for you.”
He blushes again, but Luke just sits on the edge of his hospital bed and takes his face in his hand. “Well, I’m just as gone for him as he is for me. Probably even more so.”
“No way,” Spencer protests as vehemently as he can with an oxygen mask glued to his face again. “I definitely love you more.”
His words are half swallowed by the mask, and half muffled by the gaggle of FBI agents pouring into his room, all talking over one another loudly.
Luke jumps off the bed and stands to attention as they all quieten down, three of them in complete shock, one of them — Emily, recognising Luke — in anticipation of what’s about to happen.
“Uh,” Spencer starts unsurely, eyes flicking between his boyfriend and his team. “Meet my boyfriend?”
There’s a brief pause before everyone jumps into action again: Emily greeting him warmly, JJ introducing herself, and Hotch and Rossi giving him firm, threatening handshakes as a warning that no harm is to come to their pseudo-son.
Spencer knows they don’t have to worry about that, though, not with Luke, and they’re quickly shown that when he takes his rightful place sat on the edge of his hospital bed again, hands smoothing his hair gently.
“Thank you,” he says to Derek, voice soft and sincere as everyone’s sat leisurely around the room, doing their own thing now they’re calmed down after the initial meet and greet, “for taking care of him. I worry about him, you know, and it’s good to see that he has so many good people looking after him.”
“We all do,” Derek replies, looking over at Spencer fondly. “We’re all incredibly overprotective. Residual effects from him joining the team so young, probably.”
“I can see that,” Luke smiles, looking over at Hotch and Rossi, who still have their eyes trained on him, despite having warmed up to him quickly.
“Well between us all,” Emily interjects diplomatically, “I think we have Spencer covered. He has a lot of good people looking out for him.”
Spencer knows they all think he’s asleep, but he can’t help but say something. “I definitely do,” he slurs tiredly, causing Luke to quickly turn his attention to him, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead as he runs his fingers through his hair with the hand not intertwined with Spencer’s. “Love you.”
“I love you too, baby,” Luke murmurs. “And so does everybody in this room.”
Smiling softly and feeling safe as anything, Spencer finally gives into the heavy pull of tiredness, and lets himself drift off to sleep.
I'm such a sucker for coming out fics omg, I hope you didn't mind that element! But God, I've missed writing Ralvez fics. If anyone has any Ralvez prompts then please send them my way because I want to write them so badly but I really find it hard to find plot for them! <3
taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @reidology @spencerspecifics @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @ropoto
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bleachhaven · 3 years
Text
Soutaicho’s Secret Admirer (Shunsui x Reader) — Part 5/6
Author’s Note:
It should be noted that this story is almost coming to a close...I’m sad to stop writing about Shunsui but it’s time to wrap this one up. So there’s maybe 1 or 2 more parts left.
Warning: A bit of smut ahead. One can only be seduced endlessly for so long without something happening about it.
Read Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3  and Part 4 first!
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Uncharacteristically, Shunsui was late to arrive at the office. It was almost ten in the morning when he finally strolled in. Nanao would have admonished him without a thought but the dark circles beneath his eyes revealed he had already had a terrible night. She didn’t want to make it a terrible morning as well.
Shunsui didn’t have the excuse of drunken debauchery at some late night party for his tardiness. The last party he’d been to had been Lisa-chan’s Valentine’s Day celebration and that was over two weeks ago.
It was more or less about how his loneliness and melancholy had kept him up late into the night. Something he definitely didn’t want to burden sweet Nanao-chan about.
He had found himself strolling randomly in seireitei at around three in the goddamn morning because simply staying in his bed staring at his ceiling felt impossible. He didn’t have these kind of difficult nights too often but when he did have them, they were quite terrible.
Sure, he missed Juu. But his loneliness was a bit more than that this time.
It has been over two weeks since he had received anything from his beloved Secret Admirer. Fourteen whole days of complete silence from her was quite unusual, and he felt it acutely. Where was she?
The darkest of thoughts had plagued him at night. What if she was sent on a dangerous mission? What if she had been injured? He hated to think it...but what if she was never coming back? Hadn’t he honestly lost enough? 
The thoughts spiraled as the evening progressed into the wee hours of the morning, growing darker and more melancholy.
He knew he was not the greatest catch in the Soul Society. That title fell to Byakuya, uncontested. Shunsui was older than everyone in seireitei - a thousand years too old, he’d say. He was nobility too but he wasn’t one to truly fit into that mould, which deterred most noblewomen from considering him. 
He wasn’t what one would call conventionally handsome either. He knew he wasn’t ugly...but he wasn’t exactly...whole. Not anymore. Maybe once he would have held some appeal and he had many lovers who thought him handsome enough to have a tumble with him... but the eyepatch never failed to remind him that he was never going to be good looking, by anyone’s standards, with a goddamn hole in his face.
Most days, none of this would honestly bother him. But last night it did.
His beloved Secret Admirer probably came to the conclusion that he wasn’t worth all the trouble after all. Surely, there had to be a reason why he had never been able to have a long term relationship. He blamed it on his job but...was that all it was? Maybe he was just not meant to have a happily ever after with someone.
As romantic as he was, he didn’t really believe in the concept of happily ever after. He knew relationships were work. It was a commitment between two people who cared about each other to work on staying together through whatever. With time, he had put any thoughts of a relationship on the back burner. With his duty to the Gotei 13, and his responsibilities as well as the added burden of maintaining his reputation as the Soutaicho...it was a practical choice. 
But his Secret Admirer had made him want. Had made him yearn for a happily ever after for himself in a way he never had before.
He wanted to be loved and cherished as much as he wanted to love and cherish that one special person in his life. But did he really deserve it?
He knew it was her silence that had his latent insecurities rising to the surface keeping him up at night.
So as sleep deprived as he was, he came to the office with a plan. He couldn’t bear her silence anymore so he was not going to. With everything that had come up in the office, he hadn’t been able to finish up the letter he had started to write to her. At that time, it had felt futile considering there was no way to send it to her. 
But he had a brilliant idea. He would have it published in the next installment of the Seireitei Communication including just enough information so that she would know it’s him while withholding enough details to still keep it anonymous. He could trust Hisagi-kun to be discreet.
He had a plan, and it could actually work!
If only he could actually find that bit of lavender paper he had left on his desk.
“Nanao-chan, did you remove anything from my desk by any chance?” he asked, opening up drawers and bending down to check under the desk.
Nanao looked up from the training schedule she was working on. “Nothing more than the usual paperwork. Why what have you lost now?” she asked with an overexaggerated sigh.
“My, my, Nanao-chan. You make it sound like I lose things on a daily basis.”
“The only thing lost on a daily basis around here is my sanity,” she said, rolling her eyes. Still she relented. A distressed Taicho always meant a distressed Nanao. “Fine. Describe it to me and I will tell you if I saw it anywhere.”
“It was nothing official. Just a bit of lavender paper I had been writing on…” he trailed off seeing the look on her face. “What? Did you see it?”
“You lost the letter you were writing to you Secret Admirer?” she asked.
“Nanao-chan! How did you…?”
“You forget, Taicho,” she said quite matter of factly. “There’s nothing that goes on here I don’t know about. But I haven’t seen it. Maybe it got mixed up in some paperwork and got sent to another division. I don’t think anyone would recognize your flowery handwriting which you reserve for your personal correspondence anyway. So nothing to worry about.”
Shunsui simply stared at her. He has known his little fuktaicho for too long to not notice that something was off. All this time, he thought she was just laughing at his expense because he was mooning over someone he didn’t even know. But now...that look...the way she said it without even having to think about it...it all felt fishy somehow. Nanao-chan was up to something.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” she huffed, correcting the papers on her desk that didn’t need correcting. A nervous habit that always gave her away. “If you don’t have any serious work, I have a pile of forms…”
“You know perfectly well who it is, don’t you, Nanao-chan?” he interrupted her attempts to distract him.
“I don’t know what you’re…”
“Please, Nanao-chan. It’s perfectly obvious you know exactly what I am talking about. Just...tell me…” he said.
He was so serious and intent. Nanao had only ever seen him like that in the heat of the worst kind of battle. She dropped her pretenses as well.
“She and I have both left enough breadcrumbs for you as it is. So if you’re so desperate to know who she is, why don’t you do the work to actually find out?” she asked him. “Clearly the girl cares about you but is terrified to approach you. Who wouldn’t be considering who you are and the position you hold. She is a nice girl, Taicho. But as things stand, she wouldn’t be the one to approach you so maybe you should find out for yourself who she is and do the approaching.”
So Nanao did indeed know who his Secret Admirer was. He understood her reasons why she couldn’t tell him. It wasn’t really her secret to divulge. Shunsui had to respect that despite his desperation.
“Is my sweet Nanao-chan giving her taicho dating advice?” he teased instead.
“Yes, I am,” she declared with a raised brow. “For even I can see how far you’ve fallen that you need advice from me to get yourself a date!”
Shunsui gasped, buying into the friendly teasing. “Nanao-chan is so mean to her taicho!”
Finally, they both got back to work, but Shunsui’s mind was still thinking about what Nanao had said. Apparently breadcrumbs were laid out and he hadn’t even noticed! He clearly had to pay more attention.
He tried to outline the facts in his mind. 
The letters were always lemon scented. It could be a shampoo or some kind of scented cream...but it smelled fresh, almost as if unintentional. Something to further ponder upon. 
The gifts were always elaborate but simple and he hadn’t been able to trace it through any vendor. The chocolates were handmade so his little Secret Admirer was probably very good with cooking and baking. 
The handwriting was very distinctive as well. Especially the way she looped all her Ls and Bs with a distinctive flowy curve. 
So far, the facts didn’t fit well into place to identify her as anyone he knew...but somehow, it felt like it was just barely within reach now. As if it’s only missing one final puzzle piece for the whole thing to come together.
__
That night, sleep evaded him once more. He couldn’t deny it. He missed her! He couldn’t help but wishing that she was right next to him, romancing him with more than just her words. He wished he could cherish her in all the ways he desperately yearned to.
 He took the letters he kept at hand in the drawer of his bedside table. He found that he liked to read them sometimes, and no matter how many times he read her words, they still managed to make him feel things. The shape of her words, the texture of the paper...it comforted him.
However, the sensual seductive ones were his downfall.
With all the time he has been alive, and all the experience he’s had, one would think he would be able to resist the temptation. But he often couldn’t.
Reading those letters, describing how she wanted to make love under the moonlight or how she yearned to taste him...it had him imagining soft feminine hands touching him. His hand would unconsciously reach into his hakama of its own volition and grasp his manhood, wondering what it would feel like to be touched by someone who ardently wanted to please him.
It wouldn’t take him too long at all. He would cum, gasping into the empty bedroom, wishing he had a name he could moan. Wishing she was here for him to hold.
Sated, he’d finally fall asleep. Yet though his body was satisfied, his mind wasn’t. He couldn’t help but feel alone on this big empty bed.
__
That coveted final piece of the puzzle arrived as, of all things, more paperwork. He was mindlessly flipping through some reports after lunch the next day when it popped out at him like well-lit beacon.
It wasn’t anything special. Just a request for more funds to be allocated for a better training ground for the 13th division. Except it was filled out by his beloved Secret Admirer. The handwriting screamed her identity at him, looping Ls and Bs and all.
“_____-san,” he whispered to himself, wondering how he could have missed it.
Suddenly, everything was perfectly crystal clear. 
Everyone knew that while Kuchiki Rukia settled in enough to pick her own fuktaicho, the 3rd seat of the 13th was acting in that role in an unofficial capacity, putting her in-charge of all the paperwork coming and going from that division. A reason why she was always showing up at the 1st...giving her ample opportunities to learn his habits well enough to leave behind those delightful missives without ever getting caught.
The lemon scent was from all the lemonade he knew she made for her division and for some special occasions in the seireitei. It was her specialty, a way of creating comfort and homeliness for her subordinates. He had tasted her chocolates twice - once at the Valentine’s Day party itself and then when she gifted them to him specifically. Both facts which had been pointed out by Nanao-chan while _____-san stood right next to him. No wonder she had flushed red then. It hadn’t been out of embarrassment but possibly from thinking she might get caught. The little minx.
He couldn’t help but remember every encounter he had with her in the recent past. Her cute blushes...the way she gasped out “Soutaicho!” Come to think of it, every time he saw her, he felt like she almost called him Shunsui out of habit only to change it to his official title at the last minute. He even recalled the twinkle in her eyes every time she looked up at him.
He couldn’t believe it. He finally knew who his Secret Admirer was and she’d been right before his eyes, had he only known where to look. He couldn’t help smiling, thinking about all the ways he would get back at her for running him around in circles. He would torture her so, so deliciously…
“You have that dopey smile on your face. Should I be worried?” Nanao asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“Hmm…? Of course not, Nanao-chan,” he said, not really reassuring her at all. “I am heading out. Be back soon!” 
“Taicho!” she called out but he was already gone.
__
...to be continued.
__
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lepusrufus · 2 years
Note
I can't stop thinking about the SAR au asdfghjkl; you really managed to get me 197% invested with that drabble, holy shit!!! The tension? The way it starts out normal, but the little oddities pile up until you're left questioning just about everything? Mwah! 11/10 💕💕💕
The more I think about it, the more curious I get! And it's like. stairs?? but they're spooky. Ya managed to make stairs spooky (I feel like that's impressive)!
So fucking good, my dude. Scent trail suddenly stopping just shy of a freaky set of stairs that don't go anywhere? Something about them drawing Cait closer? Vi saying /never/ to go up them? And then the kid is found somewhere up high, with no way down, and a grown ass adult needs climbing gear to get to them?? magic freaky stairs. Love it.
As I mentioned before, this whole AU is based on a fairly popular series of short horror stories and an excuse for me to mess around with this specific kind of horror. So if you want more of this I definitely recc checking them out on reddit or youtube if you're the listening type like me)
Now with that being said... well congrats now there's a part two to Annie's rescue. Complete with more weirdness and lesbians lesbianing so enjoy :V
////
By the time they reached their other team members, Jinx was already halfway up the cliff. Gangly limbs moving with far more grace than they did in any other situation, grabbing onto the rock and fixing the rope attached to her harness in swift practiced movements.
She only spared a glance downward when the two arrived, giving her sister a mock salute. She was too far up to be heard anyways. Ekko regarded them similarly, with a nod from where he was standing with Benzo, making sure things went smoothly. He noticed the frown ever present on Caitlyn's face, never having really left, and remembered the urgency she had talked over the radio with.
"Found anything out there?" he asked, eyeing both women one after the other.
"No."
It was Vi the one to speak up, getting that single word out with finality in her tone while not taking her eyes off her sister. Ekko didn't miss the way Caitlyn’s eyes snapped to her, frown deepening as she was about to say something but thought better of it. She shook her head instead and busied her hands with fixing the already well fitted harness on her dog.
Ekko didn't press further either.
A few dozen meters above, Jinx finally hauled her body over the last remaining ledge that separated her from the small girl. "Hey there," she said, a smile that she hoped was reassuring on her face while she focused on finding a sturdy spot to attach the rope. She found the perfect tight crevice for it, testing it with a few forceful tugs and nodding her contentment when it wouldn't budge.
When she took in the girl -Annie, she remembered- she was glad to see she didn't seem particularly frightened, if not a bit shaken. Most children in that situation would be small trembling messes and always rather difficult to rescue. Scratch that, adults were just as difficult if not worse more often than not, but at least she could give them a few choice words to make them snap out of it without adding to some long lasting trauma.
She would inquire later on why exactly she wasn't scared, but if it made her job easier in the moment then she wasn't complaining.
Jinx crouched down in front of Annie, taking out the extra harness she brought with her.
"Let's put this on so I can get you back to your parents, what do you say?"
Annie looked between Jinx’s bright blue eyes and the harness in her hands with some apprehension. It was a few long seconds of Jinx forcing an encouraging smile before the little girl nodded tentatively. With a relieved sigh, the equipment was quickly fixed and properly tightened to the size of a small child, finishing up with attaching it to Jinx's own harness.
"Alrighty, you just hold on tight. It'll be like a little roller-coaster. Do you like roller-coasters?"
Annie held onto her thin frame as if her life depended on it -it didn't really, they were tied together after all- and shook her head. Jinx’s smile faltered before turning into a grimace as she sucked air through her teeth, expression unseen by the little girl who opted to squeeze her eyes shut.
Well then.
It took them a few good minutes to get down. Far longer than necessary given Jinx’s record of being able to scale down a rope at lightning speeds, to her sister's dismay. But she supposed propelling towards the ground with a child who just spent hours on a cliff for all she knew would be a bad idea. So she took her time. Slowly pushed off the wall on sturdy legs and made sure they were both steady at any given time.
The moment their feet touched the grass at the base of the cliff, Annie all but jumped away. Her plan got cut short by the harness still keeping her attached to Jinx, who couldn't help a snort as she felt the sudden yank. But the moment she was free, her colleagues were there to help.
Vi, ever the kid whisperer, as Jinx dubbed her, kneeled down in front of Annie with a kind smile that did nothing to cover the relief she felt. She asked how she was feeling, if she was injured or hurting anywhere, and Annie nodded or shook her head shyly at most of her questions.
"Are you cold? Your mom gave us your vest," she said while giving Caitlyn’s leg a few quick pats.
Her partner was still deep in thought, long fingers fidgeting with the patch on her jacket that read Zaun National Park. So much so that by the fifth pat she jumped slightly, having forgotten that she was even holding the red garment in her hand and clumsily giving it to Vi when her mind finally caught up.
"There we go," Vi said, holding the vest up so Annie could push her arms through it. "Let's get you back to your parents."
Vi scooped up the girl effortlessly, letting her rest her head on one strong shoulder as she and Caitlyn started the trek back to the main station. The rest stayed behind to gather up all the equipment and said they would catch up soon, not wanting to keep the kid and her parents away from each other longer than necessary.
They were merely twenty minutes into the hike when the sky started to darken properly. It was already late when they had found Annie, and there was no doubt that the majority of the journey back would be made in the dark. Vi didn’t mind, having been part of more rescue operations that stretched well into the night than she cared to count, so the dark woods didn't make her feel as uneasy as they once did. And Caitlyn didn’t seem to be particularly bothered by it either, simply pulling out her flashlight and illuminating the path ahead.
Annie however was clutching harder to Vi's uniform, small fists pulling on the fabric in a gesture that was probably meant to be subtle but was noticed nonetheless. Vi put one hand on her back, hoping it would bring some comfort.
"Are you scared?" she asked softly.
"No."
Vi hummed, eyes fixated up ahead. She saw Caitlyn turn and give her a quizzical look at the sudden break of silence.
"Are you sure?"
Annie hesitated for a few seconds, the contemplation obvious as she thought about an answer. "I don't like the dark," she finally settled on, voice quieter than before.
"There’s nothing to be scared of out here," Vi said.
It was a lie and she knew it. Even Caitlyn, who had been working there for not even a month seemed well aware of that when she turned again, one eyebrow quirked up in skepticism. Vi gave her a look, eyes widening ever so slightly, that told her to not say a word to the girl. Annie, whose head was still resting against Vi's shoulder, was none the wiser to their silent exchange.
Because it was half a lie. There were always things that could harm you out in the wilderness. But Vi had learned long ago that the key to getting out unscathed was to have a healthy amount of respect for the nature that surrounded her. Of course there were the… freak accidents, but nobody really spoke about those.
"But you can't see anything. What if the bear comes back?"
Annie's voice was quiet and muffled against Vi's uniform, but it was more than enough to cause the two officers to exchange a worried look.
"Bear?" Caitlyn asked, despite a small frown from Vi that tried to communicate that maybe now wasn't the best time.
Her reply came in the form of a quiet affirmative hum. "He took me to his home and said he would bring me more friends so I wouldn't be lonely," Annie explained in a small voice.
That sentence alone was enough to send a shiver down Vi’s back, who clenched her jaw and kept her focus fixated on the path ahead. Not the time. Now was not the time damn it. Not when they were only halfway through the woods and the only thing that kept them from plunging into pitch black darkness were flashlights whose batteries she may or may not have forgotten to check. A thing that Caitlyn seemed less inclined than her to ignore.
"He what?" she whispered with some alarm, her pace faltering as she whipped her head to the side at Vi and the girl in her arms.
It even startled Sniper a bit, the sudden movement tugging on his leash and causing him to raise his muzzle towards his owner inquisitively. Caitlyn paid it no mind, eyes boring onto the side of Vi's head and daring her to meet her gaze. She didn’t.
"Mhm," Annie unknowingly interrupted their little one sided staredown. "But I got scared and it made him mad. So he just left me on that cliff."
Caitlyn didn’t say anything after that. She simply looked down at Annie's feet and took in the way her shoes looked so clean, soles a little dusty but nowhere near dirty enough to indicate a walk up the mountain. Her clothes were in a similar condition too, in too good of a shape for someone who presumably made her way through dense thorny thickets and up a sheer cliffside.
Despite the silence that enveloped them afterwards, the tension was clear as day. Annie had dozed off at one point probably due to sheer exhaustion while Caitlyn led the way, her flashlight kept on the path ahead. She threw a few glances towards Vi, eyes narrowing for a split second with questions sitting on the tip of her tongue. Then she saw the practiced neutrality on her partner's expression, practiced but not enough to completely conceal the stress that lay underneath, and dropped it.
It was another half hour of hiking without pause, neither of them wanted to stop for one reason or another, until they finally reached the familiar gravel path to the station. Annie's parents were sitting on one of the wooden benches outside, her mother shooting to her feet and sprinting to them the moment they came into view. She was quickly followed by her father and sister.
There were tears, there were words of gratiture exchanged that Vi graciously replied to with a kind smile and a simple happy to get her back safe. All the while Caitlyn hung back a few paces, offering a kind smile at the gratitudes but otherwise pretending to keep herself busy with checking Sniper over for any non existing injuries or debris stuck in his fur.
It took a while for the parents to compose themselves, with Annie held tightly in their arms. By the time they were ready to complete some paperwork for a report and leave, their colleagues had finally caught up too. Jinx was loudly chatting with Ekko about whatever project they were planning to work on next, while Benzo was right behind them, holding up his flashlight yet still not managing to prevent the two from stumbling when they got too engrossed in their conversation. Vi greeted them at the base of the low porch of the station, teasingly congratulating her sister on her job, yet the fondness in her voice was unmistakable. It gained her a whack with one long braid and a playful shoulder shove as the group walked past them and made their way inside.
"You coming?" Vi asked, once they were the only two people still left outside. "We're gonna make some cheap hot chocolate. Or tea for you," she tried for something casual and failed.
Caitlyn was still crouched down next to her dog, a hand absentmindedly playing with one of the buckles from his harness. When she looked up at her partner, her eyes held the same intensity from before, framed by a frown that was yet to let her beautiful features relax.
"Vi."
There was an edge of something in her voice. If she looked hard enough Vi could recognize it as distrust and it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
"Yeah?"
"If you don’t tell me exactly what the hell is going on here I'm putting in my one week notice tomorrow and leaving."
It was an empty threat and they both knew it to an extent. Not only because Caitlyn wouldn't simply pack her stuff and leave a position that finally allowed her to help people in a more substantial way, but also because there were countless other K9 teams out there that could replace her in no time. But Caitlyn held out some hope that Vi harbored some affection for her, enough to not want her gone at least.
Vi sighed deeply, her shoulders dropping in defeat as she ran a hand though messy pink hair.
"Yeah. Yeah okay that sounds fair," she said, though it didn't placate Caitlyn much. Her frown still in place, she kept looking at her partner expectantly. "Uh- we both have tomorrow off right? Why don't we um, meet for coffee and I'll give you the proper run-down?"
Vi tried for a warm smile, but it came out shy when she noticed the way Caitlyn’s expression turned from harsh to surprise, complete with a blush dusting her pale cheeks. Vi tried to convince herself that she was just seeing things in the almost absent light that came from the porch, but it didn't stop some heat from raising to her own face.
Well, this wasn’t exactly how Vi would've liked to ask her out, but desperate times…
Caitlyn cleared her throat, averting her eyes for a moment and Vi was afraid she had horribly overstepped some boundary. "Yes. That would be nice," Caitlyn said then, and soothed some of Vi’s fears a little.
This time, the charming smile came more easily as she stuck out a hand for her partner to take. She pulled her up from the dusty battered ground and gestured towards the porch as if to say after you. "I'll pick you up at nine," she said as Caitlyn took the first step on the stairs.
Caitlyn looked back down at her. "You don't know where I live, Vi," she deadpanned, but the amusement in her eyes was unmistakable.
"Damn I can't even be a gentlewoman anymore," Vi muttered and the giggle she got in response made her think that maybe this was still salvageable.
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harrywritingsbyme · 3 years
Text
The Shark Stuffie
Anonymous Said: my life’s been pretty shit recently and I’m so stressed rn and my anxiety is through the roof meaning I can’t sleep either..could you maybe write something small about harry comforting you and coaxing you to sleep with sweet coos💕
Based Off Of This Ask
And This One 
A/N: I feel like I haven't written some fluff in a LONG ass time...like the last pure fluff piece I wrote was all the way back in the beginning of January. That’s lowkey due to my vibes being off, my lack of motivation to do just about anything, and the fact that my writing schedule has been rearranged too many times. Either way tho...I hope y'all like this fic, it’s rlly cute and softtt and it’s definitely relatable for many of us. Enjoyy🙃
3.5k wordss
You had a bit of an obsession with animal documentaries. There was just something about them that just drew you in and captivated you. Whenever you watched the films or shows, you were always glued to the screen and utterly fascinated with the creatures being displayed before your eyes. Whenever you watched them with Harry, he’d always tease you about your obsession and being completely glued to the screen, jokingly saying that you were more in love with the animals than you were with him. Which couldn’t have been the farthest thing from the truth of course. But in true Y/n fashion, instead of just shooting his far fetched claims down, you would always tease him back; saying that you were in fact madly in love with whatever animal was on the screen at that moment, and that if he wanted to reclaim his number one spot on your list of loves, he’d have to put in some serious work. And then over the following couple of minutes, the two of you would go on to further the banter, trying to land the snarkiest little remark and “win”...even though it wasn’t even a competition to begin with. Sometimes you two were able to go a good while going back and forth on who you loved the most, Harry or the animals and their documentaries. Other times, and most times for that matter, you two would just burst into a fit of laughs before snuggling up together for the rest of the documentary. You of course rewinding it to play back anything you missed when your attention was on Harry. 
Which speaking of Harry, he thought your obsession with animals and the documentaries was the most precious and adorable thing thing in the entire world. He couldn’t (and never wanted to for that matter) get the image of your face lighting up when you watched the documentaries or discovered that a new one had come out for you to watch. He loved how happy and at ease you were when you watched the animal documentaries. On top of the fact that Harry loved how happy you got when watching the documentaries, Harry was slowly growing a little bit of an obsession with the documentaries too. And because of that, not only did he suggest making you guys’ date nights animal documentaries nights, but he also began to feed your obsession by means of plushies. If you two watched a documentary on giraffes, he’d be on the hunt for the cutest little giraffe plushie the entire week after and leading up to you guys’ next date night. And if you were going on and on about a particular animal he’d try to find the cutest plushy to get for you to add to your collection. Most times Harry was able to get lucky and find the cutest plushy for the animal you were obsessed with at the moment. But there were also times where he wasn’t so lucky. Either the animal was too exotic to be in stuffed animal form, or it wasn’t cute enough for Harry’s liking. He took his job of feeding your animal obsession very seriously. 
But either way, plushy or no plushy, you were just happy to enjoy and share your love of animal documentaries with your boyfriend who you loved even more. And Harry, whether or not he’d be able find the perfect plushy, was always going to do his very best to put an even bigger smile on your face. Even if it meant having to get a little creative at times. 
Now for the first time in the five or so months you’ve been obsessed with animals and watching the documentaries, you were stuck on one animal; Sharks. You weren’t quite sure as to what was so fascinating about the incredibly deadly creature but you couldn’t get enough of them. You were watching documentary after documentary on them and you even went as far as to find and watch old shark week episodes. You were quite obsessed to say the least. For the past, just about two weeks when you and Harry had your weekly animal documentary night/date night, you’d turn on something about sharks. Which prompted Harry to go out and find the perfect plushies to add to your collection. He managed to find the cutest one online the thought you’d love and he immediately placed his order so that it would arrive as soon as possible. While he waited for that stuffed animal to arrive, Harry figured you’d be onto the next animal. But no, the following week you were still obsessed with sharks. Which meant that a knot her shark plushy would be coming your way in no time. So once again, Harry went back on the “prowl” for the best shark plushies out there, spending the better part of his Wednesday evening looking for the perfect one. 
After looking through the pages of plushies, hoping to find one that he could buy in-store, Harry finally found the one. It was a fairly big shark plushy, and from the photos it looked to be pretty cute, and it seemed to be very soft. All of Harry’s boxes were checked off. But the ultimate selling point for it though, was the fact that it was weighted. See, you had really bad anxiety. Your mind was constantly racing, you were constantly worrying about things and what could go wrong, and you couldn’t stop overanalyzing everything and the decision you made. It was hard for you to get rest, even when you were exhausted and in dire need of a good nights sleep. And your preexisting anxiety was only exacerbated by school. One of the things that made your mind and body all calm down in those moments where you were completely overloaded and inundated with anxiety and stress was your weighted blanket. It kind of forced you to take time out for yourself and relax, and feel comfortable, taking your mind off of the stresses that were fueling the fire of your anxiety. It was honestly like a much needed big hug and was absolutely perfect when you couldn’t exactly have Harry, your ultimate anxiety and stress reliever. 
And on the topic of school, you were drowning. You were having a very rough week to say the least. Your to do list grew longer and longer as the days passed, and you were pretty sure your anxiety had reached an all time high and was on the path to reaching another record high. This week you had so many academic responsibilities you had to take care of, on top of all the things you had to do and wanted to do when it came to your personal life. You felt like every time you got one thing accomplished, two or three more things were thrown at you and demanded your attention. No matter how hard you tried to put things on a schedule and properly manage your time, a sudden wrench would be thrown into your plans and screw everything up; making your life increasingly difficult to navigate. Just the idea of school caused your anxiety to flare up. So to add everything you had to do for school this week along with your other responsibilities on top of that was quite much for you to handle. You didn’t even have the time, let alone the energy, to even have a proper breakdown and let it all out. You’d simply shed a few tears, take a deep breath, take a sip of your water, and push your feelings of being overwhelmed and tired to the side so that you could get shit done. The only things that brought you some type of relief this week were your weighted blanket, Harry’s comforting words, and you guys’ Friday night date night. And the plushies Harry told you he had for you.
When Harry spoke to you throughout the week and listened to how your week was going and how horrible it was going for you, he made it his mission to give you everything you needed when you came over on Friday night so that you can throw the terrible week you had away and have a relaxing and stress-free weekend. Once Friday finally arrived for you two, Harry spent most of the day just getting everything ready for when you came over. He went out and picked up all your favorite snacks, food, and anything else you liked, along with the weighted shark plushy and a new weighted blanket for you. You on the other hand were laser-focused on your school work and anything else that needed to be taken care of. You wanted to get everything done so that you’d have to spend no time whatsoever over the weekend doing anything besides being with Harry and relaxing your entire being. The only thing keeping you going today was the weekend Harry had planned for you. That’s it. And once you finally cleared your plate later on in the day, you dashed right over to Harry. You couldn’t wait any longer to watch your shark documentary with Harry and your new, no doubt, shark plushies.
 When you get to Harry’s place, you practically break the door down and you nearly knocked Harry off his feet from how you ran in and immediately nestled yourself into him. It was nearly five minutes before the two of you even verbally greeted each other. At that moment, you just wanted to be held. Harry was the sure-fire way to calm you down when you were going through a major bout of anxiety. His presence alone made you feel safe and okay. You had your arms locked around his midsection, keeping your grasp on him as tight as possible. Almost as if you were afraid that he was going to float away from you. And Harry didn’t mind this one bit, nor did he hesitate to wrap you up in his arms and just hold you just as tight and close to him. 
“Hi” You mumble into the soft fabric of Harry’s hoodie, breaking the silence between you two.
“Hi baby” He softly replies to you, squeezing you a little bit. 
“Missed you this week.” You continue on, relaxing a bit more into Harry. 
“I missed you too sweets. You had a pretty rough week huh?” Harry coos, continuing to hold you and stroke your back. 
“Mhm…m’so tired.” You sigh. 
“Well how about we get you upstairs and in a nice warm shower to get you relaxed a bit while I bring everything up. And then we can watch one of your documentaries. How does that sound sweets?” Harry proposes. 
“Sounds amazing.” You agree, loosening your grip on Harry in the process. 
“Then let’s get you upstairs” He then proceeds to loosen his grip around you as well before guiding you from the front door and up the stairs. Once you’re all squared away and in the shower, Harry moves his setup in the living room upstairs in the bedroom, hiding the little gifts he got for you on the floor on his side of the bed. Harry also lays out some clothes for you to throw on. You had your own drawer and everything, but even though that was the case, you still went right to his clothes. So Harry didn’t even bother going through your drawer for anything. After laying out your clothes and everything you needed for when you’re all done with your shower, Harry orders what you told him you wanted for dinner before you got in the shower. Which ends up being a good thirty minutes. It was just so nice to have some time to yourself and not have to stress or worry about something you had to get done. It was such a relief to be able to just stand under the running hot water and just not have to think. The steaming hot water melted the caked-on stress from the week and just rinsed it away, making you feel so much better than you did when you first walked through the door. 
It was also a relief to walk out of the bathroom and into your boyfriend's bedroom with everything waiting for you. When you stepped out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom, you stepped into this warm and cozy atmosphere Harry created for you. The bed is all warm and comfy, and extremely inviting. He had your clothes and all your post-shower stuff laid out for you on the bed. Harry even had one of your favorite candles lit on the bedside table. The tv was even on with an array of animal documentaries for you to pick from. Up until he had to rush downstairs to get the takeout he ordered for you two, Harry helped you get all settled in bed. And when he comes back upstairs, this time with the food you (and your stomach) were beyond excited for, you were all done getting ready and tucked right under the covers waiting for him to come back.  
Harry quickly shuffles across the room to sit the food down onto the bed before lifting the little basket he filled to the brim with your favorite little snacks up onto the bed, making you even happier than you were already, and hopping into bed with you. He then hands you the remote, giving you the power to choose whichever documentary you wanted to watch, along with a small peck to your cheek, marking the official start to you guys’ date night/relaxing weekend. While you and Harry watch the first documentary of the night together, you’re intently watching the screen just like always as you happily stuff your mouth with the delicious food in front of you. As you watched the documentary, Harry on the other hand couldn’t help but sit back and just watch you. He was so happy to see you all relaxed and peaceful, opposed to being all stressed out and anxiety-ridden like you were when you first came over.
By the end of the first film, you and Harry are completely done with your food and have moved on to clearing off the bed so that you two can cuddle and possibly fall asleep during the next one. Once the bed is all clear and free for you and Harry to move around, you two immediately move in closer and get nice and comfortable in each other before starting the next shark-related documentary.
“Thank you so much for all of this Harry.” You thank him, breaking your focus on the tv and shifting it to Harry.
“Anything for you sweets” Harry coos, turning his attention away from the tv as well. “I hate it when you’re going through it, especially when I cant be there to help you get through. So I just wanted to give you a nice relaxing and calm weekend for you to just feel better.” He explains.
“I love you Harry.” You hum, lifting your head up from his chest to peer up at him. You weren’t able to fully comprehend why and how you even deserved such an amazing boyfriend who always wanted to make you happy when you were sad and not doing okay, and even happier when you were already beaming. He was one of the best things in your life, and one of the few that didn’t stress you out. 
“I love you too baby.” Harry whispers, looking down at you and locking eyes with yours. The same way you felt like Harry’s mere existence made everything at least feel better, Harry felt the exact same way. So whenever you were going through it and not doing okay, Harry didn’t take that lightly. He always made sure to do everything in his power to get you to a better place. 
When Harry puckers his lips in your direction, you immediately lock yours with them, sucking you both into a love-filled little kiss. It was nice and soft for the atmosphere you and Harry were in, but it wasn’t incredibly slow, nor it did it feel rushed or like it was lasting forever. It was perfect.
“I got you something baby!” Harry whispers excitedly upon pulling away from your lips, tapping at your sides for you to sit up.
“You told me they were plushies.” You reply, excited to see what he picked for you this time. Harry always managed to get you the cutest little stuffed animals so you were really excited to see what he got you this time. 
“Yup! And here’s the first one.” Harry says, leaning down to pick up and reveal to you the regular plushy he found for you the first time.
“Oh my goodness! That’s too adorable!” You coo, holding up and looking at the adorable little shark Harry got for you. It was absolutely amazing and you were so so so excited to see the next one. 
“Ready for the next one? I think you’re gonna like this one the most.” Harry says, causing you to immediately nod your head in response. “M’gonna need you to close your eyes too.” He instructs.
Once your eyes are closed, Harry leans down and picks up the weighted and fairly big shark plushy before sitting it in your lap. He then grabs the new weighted blanket he got for you and sits it between you both before instructing you to open your eyes.
When you see what Harry placed into your lap, you could instantly feel the tears welling up in your eyes. It was like Harry knew exactly what you wanted and needed. You absolutely loved your weighted blanket and you always used it, even when you weren’t in need of something to calm your anxiety. You also loved plushies, even before you were heavily into animals and Harry was finding you all sorts of plushies. They brought you some much-needed serotonin whenever you were feeling down and they were your little cuddle buddies. So to have a weighted one, a combination of everything that never failed to calm your anxiety down was absolutely amazing and you couldn’t have been more happy and appreciative. That’s why you just couldn’t help it when you started crying. You wasted absolutely no time wrapping Harry in the biggest hug, thanking him over and over for the plushy. But it wasn’t long until you just broke down. 
“You have no idea how much this means to me, I had such a horrible week.” You sob into him.
“I know baby.” He coos, stroking your back as you cried. Even though he hated it when you cried, he knew that you always felt lighter whenever you just let it all out.
“I had panic attacks every day and I didn’t get enough sleep and I didn’t eat much either and I didn’t have you there for cuddles. It was so bad.” You cry, your voice cracking at the end, making Harry only tighten his arms around you. He knew it was a bad week for you, but he didn’t know it was this bad. You only told him but so much over the phone.
“Well I’m here now baby and I’m gonna take good care of you and get you back and feeling better.” Harry promises, continuing to hold you as you cry into him. You were so vulnerable right now and he just wanted you, his baby, to feel better. 
As you continued to cry, you continued to mumble and talk about just how bad your week was and how much he was doing for you helped you feel better. Eventually, you ran out of words and the energy to speak or even cry. So Harry began to whisper sweet little nothings and reassurance that you’re going to be okay and that he’s going to take care of you. And as he did this, Harry could feel your body heave less and less from the crying and the little hiccups that came along with it. Once you’ve calmed down a little and as the sleep begins to overtake you, Harry then unwraps an arm from around you and reaches over to turn out the light and blow out the candle before pulling the covers higher up over you two. He also pulled the plushy and still folded blanket up as well, just in case you wanted either of them.
 “Please don’t watch without me.” You mumble, your voice all nasally and filled with sleep. You were no longer tightly wrapped around Harry, but instead resting on his chest.
“I won’t darling. I just paused it so that we can go back and watch it later on when you’re nice and rested.” Harry replies through a soft chuckle continuing to stroke your back. 
“Pinky promise.” You mumble back, lazily lifting your pinky up from under the covers for Harry to hook his around.
“Pinky promise.” He replies softly, bringing his pinky in to hook it around yours, sealing his promise. “Now get some rest baby.” He whispers, pulling your still intertwined hands down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. 
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