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#hi ho cherry-o
tiny-prismatic-tot · 1 year
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soaps-mohawk · 3 days
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 23: Regrets
Summary: Depression: a common mental health condition characterized by a low mood or loss of pleasure or interest in activities for long periods of time. 
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 9,940
Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, mental illness, depression, very heavy emotionally, angst, Johnny gets his feelings hurt (but only for a moment), angst, everyone is having big emotions, Bella Swan-esque sad montage, angst, kissing, slight suggestive content, angst
A/N: Did I completely rewrite part of this during the editing process? Yes. Are you going to thank me for that? Also yes. I'm trying something a bit different with this chapter, so let me know what you think. It probably won't be a regular thing, but I just thought I'd give it a test and this chapter was the perfect time to do that.
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They say you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. 
They’re right. There’s a hole in your chest, an empty void. The squeaking of your shoes on the tiles sounds far away as you numbly walk back towards your room. 
“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks cautiously as you pause in front of your door long enough to turn the handle.
You turn to look up at him, his brows pinched and his eyes shining with concern. “He's gone.” Your voice cracks and shakes, breaking over the words like you're speaking the finality of the situation. 
You are. 
“I know.” Johnny reaches out, his fingers wrapping around your arm. “I wish there had been more warning, but this is usually how his solo assignments go.” 
You swallow thickly. “He'll come back, right?”
Johnny grimaces. “Ye know I can't promise that. But, there's no one quite as capable in the field as him, except maybe Price.” Johnny squeezes your arm gently. “He’s been doing this for a long time, kitten. Have faith in that, and his skills.” 
Johnny’s words do nothing to help the turmoil inside you, the fear and anxiety. One split second mistake, one wrong decision and you know it could be over. Everything could be over before it even started. Why didn’t you confront him sooner? Why didn’t you pick up on his true feelings, his emotions as quickly as he seemed to decipher yours? It’s not fair that they can be taken from you so easily and so quickly. There’s no room for argument, no room for any begging or pleading for them to stay. They have a job, and they’ll always choose that job over you. 
“Ye gonna be alright?” Johnny asks, letting his hand fall from your arm as you push open your door, entering your room before closing it in immediately, clicking the lock into place. You lean against the door for a moment, biting your lip to try and stop the tears as you begin to shiver from the dampness of your clothes. 
You leave your shoes in a pile next to the door before you pad silently to your bathroom, stripping off your clothes once you hit the tile. You’re shivering, a cold chill starting to seep into your very bones as you start the tub, letting it fill with water. The tears blur your vision, dripping into the steaming water as you sink into the bath. You can’t stop the tears as you sit there, not caring how hot the water is, not caring how it makes your skin feel like it’s on fire. You’ll take the pain, the discomfort. Anything to ease the pain that’s ripping your chest wide open.
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It hurts, he won’t lie, when you close the door in his face. Well, it wasn’t entirely in his face. He was a foot away from the door, but it still causes a little ache in his chest, a little upset in his mind that you just cut him off like that. The click of the lock is like a finality, the gavel falling on your decision to distance yourself for now. 
The rejection of his offer for comfort has his beta stirring uncomfortably in his mind. Tears fill his own eyes as he stares at the handle of your door, wishing he could reach out and grab it, fling it open and take you into his arms and hold you until you stop crying, until the pain of Simon’s sudden absence goes away. 
“Come on.” John says quietly, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “Give her some time.” 
He lets John lead him away from your door and back towards the rec room. He shouldn’t be so hurt by your abrupt dismissal. You were quite obviously upset, upset enough to run out into the rain after Simon. He saw you race out the door, his stomach clenching in worry, but thankfully the rain had forced most inside. There was little threat to you, not with Simon there, but he had been worried you might not be able to catch him, that you might run blindly into the rain to try and find him. 
He had spotted the tears trailing down your cheeks as you walked back to the barracks, mixing with the rain that soaked straight through you. He’s used to his alpha having to leave suddenly, the distance and the worry are second nature now thanks to their jobs, their lifestyles. You’ve never been through this before with him, though, and so soon after the two of you were finally beginning to give in. It’s like a curse. They begin to get close to you, and then suddenly they’re ripped away. 
He almost feels guilty, like he’s responsible for your pain. If he hadn’t forced it, if he hadn’t put you both in that position, maybe you wouldn’t be so upset. He couldn’t have known, though, that Simon would be called away like that. It could happen at any time, they all know that. They always have to be ready, always have to be prepared to be called out. Even on leave they can’t guarantee there won’t be an emergency. It’s just the nature of their job. 
It wouldn’t have bothered any of them before you. 
“She didn't take it well, did she?” Kyle says as John guides Johnny to sit on the couch next to him. 
“Christ, she's so upset.” Johnny says, leaning his head in his hands. “If I hadnae pushed them, then this wouldn't have happened.” 
“You couldn't have known this was going to happen.” Kyle says, squishing Johnny between him and John to try and comfort the upset beta. 
“We didn't even know until a couple of hours ago.” John says, draping his arm across the back of the couch.
“If she's this upset at one of us leaving...how upset was she when we all left?” Johnny says, his stomach churning at the thought. No wonder you were so shaken when they came back. 
“The best thing we can do right now is leave her alone and let her do what she needs to do.” John says, pulling Johnny so he's resting against his chest. “She'll come out when she's ready.” 
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The afternoon comes and goes, the rain slowing to a light drizzle. You still haven’t left your room, sealed inside, secluded from them. Johnny casts the closed door a wistful look every time he walks down the hallway, half tempted to try the knob and see if it’s been unlocked, but he stops himself. The last thing you need is to be scared by someone trying to get in. John is right. You’ll come out when you’re ready. 
John knocks on your door as they get ready to head to dinner, waiting a moment for some type of response. “We’re going to dinner, sweetheart.” He says through the door when there’s no answer to his knock. “Do you want us to bring you something?” 
There’s a quiet noise from your room, some muffled response to John’s question.
“We’ll be back soon.” John says, somehow able to make out what it is you said. Or maybe his plan was to bring you something regardless of whether you agreed or not. 
It feels strange, just the three of them walking to the mess. It’s not the first time they’ve gone just the three of them, but it feels different this time. It’s not Simon’s missing presence that weighs so heavily, it’s yours. 
There’s a tenseness that’s settled over them as they sit at the table, avoiding eye contact with each other.  Simon’s empty space at the table wouldn’t have felt so much like an empty chasm if you had been there to fill some of it. 
They’re not sure what to do, the feeling similar to what they felt upon their return. They knew it would be bad, but they hadn’t expected you to be in shambles like you were. Their pack mate is hurting, their omega is hurting, and there’s nothing they can do. They don’t know what to do. Johnny wants to kick in your door, rush into your room and envelop you in a hug so tight you’ll complain that you can't breathe. He just wants to help you, but that’s not what you want, what you need right now. 
He knows it’s his beta instincts, his need to comfort and soothe and support. If Kyle is feeling the same way, which Johnny knows he has to be, he’s hiding it well. Though, perhaps that’s just for his sake and John’s. He can’t even imagine what John is going through, knowing his omega is suffering in such a way. 
All because Simon is gone. 
How easily one missing piece could tear the pack apart. If something happened to one of them, or god forbid something happened to you, they might not be able to recover. They had always assumed their training would win out, that they could move past it in the way they would had there been nothing but the bonds of camaraderie between them. 
How silly that idea had been. 
It’s no secret death disrupts pack stability, shakes the bonds that tie a pack together. He remembers how his Grannie’s death had shaken his family for weeks and it had taken months to return to what could be considered normal after a partially expected death of a member of the pack. What kind of damage would an unexpected and sudden death do to a pack? 
Johnny shakes the thought from his head. There was always a risk. They all knew that, they all agreed to that when they signed up. He knows Simon is highly skilled, well accustomed to working alone, to completing solo assignments successfully. The risk of something happening was always high, but he trusts Simon and puts faith in his skills. 
John goes back through the line once they finish, making a tray for you and piling it high as usual. It always makes him happy to see how well cared for you really are. Despite the circumstances of you being added to their pack, he knows it could have been so much worse. There’s worse packs, worse alphas out there. At least with them, you’re an equal. You’re their precious omega, and they’d make anyone who threatened you regret that decision. 
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John is surprised the handle turns when he tries it. You’ve gotten up at least, but he’s not surprised to find you back in the same place you’ve likely been all day. He closes the door behind him before moving to your bed, setting the tray of food down on your nightstand. You squint as he flicks the lamp on, reaching up to rub your eyes. The bed dips as he sits on the edge, a quiet sigh leaving his lips. 
“I know this is hard for you.” He says softly, brushing his fingers across your bare arm. Your skin is warm, likely from being burrowed under the blankets. “I can't even imagine what you're feeling right now.” 
“He's gone.” You say quietly, your voice hoarse from crying. 
“Just for a while.” He says. “He’ll be back.” 
“But you can’t promise that.” You argue, pushing yourself up to sit. Your cheeks are still damp with tears, eyes red and lips still trembling. 
“There’s always a risk,” He says softly. “But you have to trust Simon. He’s not going down without a fight.” He sighs quietly as your gaze drops to your hands, your fingers picking at the skin around your fingers. He slips his hand into yours, stopping you from continuing. “What’s eating you?” 
“I should have told him.” You sniffle, your eyes on his hand as your fingers close around it. . 
“Told him what?” He prods gently, curiously. 
“That I love him.” You say, lifting your gaze to look at him. “I should have said it but I didn’t and now what if he doesn’t come back? I love all of you, and I don’t want you to leave, and I don’t want anything to happen to you.” The words end in a sob, tears sliding down your cheeks again. 
Your words take him by surprise. It’s no secret how they feel about you, how their feelings have grown from curiosity to companionship to attraction and now to love. All of them have come to love you in their own ways, even Simon in his resistance wasn’t immune to his feelings, to their shared feelings towards you. 
“Look at me.” He cups your face gently, his thumbs wiping the falling tears. “I wish things didn’t have to be this way, I wish they hadn't picked us to be first for this. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to put you through this. I wouldn't change having you as my omega, but forcing you to live like this, to be left behind with the worry over something none of us can control.” He shakes his head. “It was a selfish decision by those who created the initiative.” 
“What...what happens if the initiative fails?” You ask softly. 
“We’re not giving you up.” He says, holding your gaze. “We wouldn’t want to, and we wouldn’t let it happen. You’ve been part of this pack since the day you stepped foot on this base. We wouldn’t have let you go then, and we sure as hell won’t now.” 
Your breathing is shaky as you stare at him, and he can see the wheels turning in your head, the hesitation as you debate whether you want to speak. He hates that you still feel this way, that you have to hide your thoughts from them out of fear or worry that they might be angered by them. He’s not sure there’s anything you could say that would anger him. 
“Would you ever leave for me?” You speak the words slowly, hesitantly, like they might bite you if you're not careful. 
He's not expecting it, though he has wondered if you'd ever ask it of them. If it might come to be too much and it leaves you no choice but to ask, to give them the ultimatum. He lets out a breath, all the answers he'd thought up in response gone as he sits face to face with you, as he faces this question out in the open for the first time. Tears are gathering in your eyes as you stare at him, taking his silence as second thoughts, as possible rejection. 
“Please be honest with me.” You whisper shakily, a tear slipping down your cheek. 
He watches its path as it slides down your cheek, pausing at the line of your jaw before it drips down onto your shirt. He lifts his gaze back to yours, the pain in them stabbing straight into his heart. He wants to say yes, that he'd leave in a heartbeat, give up what he'd worked his whole life to achieve, all for an omega. His omega. 
He wouldn't be able to sleep at night, knowing the kind of evils that exist in the world, the kinds of threats that linger in the dark. The evils that may pose a threat to you and his pack. You’ll never be truly safe, not so long as there’s others who know of your existence. Very few of them he’d truly trust with the knowledge that you pose a threat to their efficiency as a team, a weakness that could be exploited. 
What bloody fucking fools they were, leaving you alone like that. 
“Part of me wants to say no,” He admits honestly, ignoring the flash of pain in your eyes. “But it would depend on the situation. If your life was ever in danger because of us, then without question. If the initiative fails, if we can't adjust, then we may have no other choice.”
“The job comes first.” You say quietly, sounding defeated. 
“But there may come a time when it doesn't.” He says, trying to reassure you. “Don't worry about that too much right now.” He brushes a hand over your hair. “If a situation arises, then we'll talk about it further.” 
He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You lean into him, letting out a quiet breath. He pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly. 
“I love you too.” He says, his lips brushing the top of your head. “And Simon knows how you feel.” 
You shift in his arms, pulling back just slightly to stare up at him. Your brows are pinched as you stare at him. “What do you mean?”
“Simon is very good at reading people. Their scents, their emotions, their body language. Years of training paired with his own natural abilities.” He smiles softly at you. “He knows how you feel.” 
“Oh,” You say, shrinking into yourself. 
“He'll likely convince himself it's not true, knowing him and how he thinks. You'll have to tell him to make him believe it.” He pats your leg under the blankets. “Don't worry too much about him. He'll be back before you know it.” He pushes himself up to stand. “Eat your dinner. We'll be around if you need anything.” 
“John?” You ask, stopping him before he can leave. 
He turns back around to face you. “Yes?”
“Thank you.” You say. “For everything.”
A small smile pulls at his lips. “Of course.”
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You're just stepping out of the bathroom when the knock sounds on your door. You had gotten up to rinse your face with cold water, your skin starting to feel tight and itchy after nearly an entire day of uncontrollable tears. You freeze at the sound of knuckles tapping on the wood, your heart leaping into your chest. Is it one of the guys coming to tell you bad news? Has something happened to Simon? 
Or is he coming back already? 
You’re half scared, half hopeful as you make the short journey across your room to the door. You feel like you’re moving in slow motion as your fingers close around the handle, slowly pulling it open. 
Johnny is standing on the other side, his face a mix of worry and sadness. It doesn’t help the despair already starting to manifest in you. Something must have happened to Simon. Something’s gone wrong. He’s not coming back, or they’ll have to leave to help him. 
“Ye doin’ alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, his brows furrowing as he stares at you. 
“Yeah.” You can’t help but wince at the way your voice cracks around the word. You sniffle, wiping at your nose with your sleeve. 
“I have somethin’ for ye.” He says, his hands fiddling with the fabric he’s holding. You hadn't noticed it before now. “I was gonnae do Simon’s laundry, but I thought ye might want this.” 
It’s one of Simon’s shirts he’s holding out to you, one of the black standard cotton t-shirts he often sports. Your fingers tremble as you take it, bringing the fabric to your nose. You don’t care that it’s dirty, having likely been soaked in sweat at one point. You inhale deeply, nose pressed into the fabric. It smells of soap and deodorant and him. Tears well in your eyes as you take in the scent, almost as if you’re getting it directly from the source. 
You’re moving before you realize it, your arms wrapping around Johnny’s middle. He seems almost surprised by your action, his body tensing for a second before it relaxes, his arms wrapping around you. 
“Thank you.” You murmur against his chest, a couple tears slipping from your eyes. You’re so tired of crying, but you can’t stop. 
“Yer welcome, kitten.” He says, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Ye need anythin’...” 
He leaves the other half unsaid, but you know what he means. You’re hesitant to pull away from him, wanting to just stand there and cling to him until Simon returns, but you know he’s busy. Eventually he’ll have to leave you too. You’re not sure you could handle watching him leave your nest, close your door behind him as he’s forced away to do his job. 
Your door clicks as you shut it, holding Simon’s shirt to your chest. You’re tempted to wear it, to slip it over your head and bathe yourself in your scent, but you know if you do that, his scent will just fade faster and become overwhelmed by your own. The desire to bury yourself in it is strong, let his scent sink into your body and overwhelm your own. 
Your eyes pass over the giant bear sitting in your desk chair before snapping back to look at it. An idea begins to form in your head as you set the shirt on your bed. 
You grab the bear, hauling it to your bed and sitting it on the edge. You pull the shirt over its head, stretching the neckline slightly. The shirt is slightly baggy on the bear, but you don’t care as you maneuver it so it’s laying on the bed, trying to picture Simon in its place. It would be a tight squeeze, but then again it always is with any member of your pack. Their bodies don’t leave much space on the narrow mattresses by themselves, much less with you curled up with them. You can’t help the stirring in your chest, the yearning for more space, for a bed big enough to fit all of you at the same time. Big enough for Johnny to starfish himself comfortably, for you to escape the inescapable suffocating heat of their bodies that will build up inevitably. 
Tears burn behind your eyes as you crawl onto the mattress, draping yourself across the giant bear. Simon’s scent wafts up around you as you press your face into the shirt, pretending it’s Simon you’re laying against. You can almost feel his arms wrap around you, holding onto you like you might disappear if he lets go. You squeeze your arms tighter around the bear, letting Simon’s scent seep into your mind and take away your fear and your worry and your pain for a little while. 
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It’s two days later when you finally leave your room. You’ve managed to stop the onslaught of tears, calming down enough to exist without being a weepy mess. There’s still an ache in your chest, though, the gaping hole that won’t close. A piece of you is missing, a piece you hadn’t even noticed was there until it was ripped out of you suddenly and violently. Your hug with Johnny had been the first time it had felt less intense, the aching abating just slightly. 
They’ve just returned from their afternoon training, earlier than usual meaning they have some downtime before dinner. You can almost tell where he is before you leave your room, following the sounds of the TV. Your steps are slow and quiet, the cold tile biting into your bare feet as you approach the rec room. 
He’s seated on the couch, spread out as usual. His eyes flicker to you as you hesitate in the doorway, tugging at the hem of the baggy shirt you’re wearing. You’ve long forgotten whose it is, the name on the tag worn off and all hints of scent erased by the many times you’ve worn and washed it. The thought tugs at the hole in your chest. Eventually Simon’s shirt won’t smell like him anymore, faded and rubbed away by time and your own scent. 
“Hi kitten,” He says, breaking the silence between you. 
You let out a shaky breath before entering the rec room, approaching him. You can tell he’s expecting you to sit next to him, to curl up against his side by the way he moves his arm, but instead you straddle his lap, all but throwing yourself against his chest. He grunts quietly in surprise, his arm instinctively wrapping around your back. You lay your head on his shoulder, going limp in his hold. 
It doesn’t fix the hole, doesn’t remove the ache entirely, but you can feel it start to lessen as you sit there, getting as close to Simon as you possibly can through his beta. You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers twisting the fabric of his shirt. He wraps his other arm around you, holding you tightly as his scent begins to project around you. Nothing is said, but nothing has to be. He knows what you need, and he doesn’t even have to use his instincts to figure it out. 
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A week goes by without a word from Simon or even about him and how he’s doing. You return to your normal routine in a numb, almost dazed state. You follow the rest of your pack around like a lost puppy, going to meals and following them to training when John allows, withdrawing back to your room like a recluse when you can’t. You sit in the rec room with them in the evenings, but you feel far away, distant from them and reality. You stare at the TV, but all you can see are blurry moving shapes. You can’t even read, often finding yourself staring at the cover until the words mesh and blur into something else. 
You never thought the distance could feel like this. You almost miss the fear of them all being gone. At least that had made you feel something. 
You see Dr. Keller twice as usual, both appointments unproductive as you fight to force some kind of life into yourself to drown out the numbness that’s settled. You’re far away, distracted from everything. Even food tastes different, more mushy and flavorless than usual. 
They’re worried about you. Even in your numb state you can tell that. John hovers closer, allowing you to follow them more than he probably should. It’s not like you’re paying much attention to what they’re doing, seated far away from anything that might put you at risk as you stare up at the sky, or off at the trees in the distance. Even when you’re inside, your gaze is far away, never quite focusing on anything. 
Johnny and Kyle keep you close as much as they can, squishing you between them on the couch or when you walk to meals. They’re always touching you, holding your hands, brushing your skin, wrapping their arms around you. They’re trying to comfort you, and it works for a little bit, not even your numbness impervious to a beta’s soothing presence. They hold onto you like they’re trying to keep you grounded to the earth, like you might float off and disappear into space if they don’t. 
You don’t sleep well, electing to sleep in your room every night. It’s a vast difference to what you had been doing, avoiding your room as much as possible. You’re seeking out the safety of your nest, a comfort only it can provide despite everything that’s happened. You feel bad for pushing them away, keeping them at a distance, but at the same time, you don’t care. 
You just want Simon back. 
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“I’m worried.” 
“I know. I’m surprised you didn’t come here sooner.” 
He feels strange, sitting in Dr. Keller’s office alone. It’s not the first time he’s been here, spoken to her about you. After their return from their first assignment, he had sat with Dr. Keller and gone over everything that had happened during their absence, or at least as much as she could tell him. Anything you talked about was considered confidential, but at least she could tell him if there were any issues or incidents. 
“She’s depressed.” Dr. Keller answers before he can even ask. “It’s not uncommon for omegas to become depressed after separation. Even when there’s necessary splitting of a pack into a satellite, there’s a risk for all omegas to develop depression because of it.”
He should have known. He’s seen it happen to soldiers, when the blood staining their hands grows to be too much and they begin to recluse in their own bodies, becoming empty shells of who they were before. You’ve become a shell, a body simply existing out of necessity. 
“What can we do?” He asks, unable to keep the mask up, to hide his concern and fear. 
“Not much more than you have been.” She says. “Keep supporting her, reminding her that you’re there. There’s an adjustment when a bond begins to weaken. Omegas are especially susceptible to it, and with how strongly connected and aware of her instincts and emotions she is, it’s going to affect her more.” Dr. Keller sighs, leaning her arms on her desk. “I don’t think anyone has ever taught her how to balance or even use those purebred instincts. Institutes are supposed to, but from what we know, they teach subservience over anything.” 
John shifts in his seat. Of course no one would have cultivated those abilities. It would have made you too aware, made the risk of you being able to manipulate them too high. Your job was to serve them above all else, so why would those teaching you want to give you that ability? Those instincts would have made you a perfect omega, able to pick up on the slightest changes, the needs of your pack. Yet, if you became too aware of your own abilities, it would give you too much power over them. That’s the one thing institutes don’t want...an omega that knows how powerful they are. 
“How do we teach her?” He asks. 
“I can help her with balancing those instincts and emotions, but only someone who knows can really teach her how to be successful at using them.” 
“Simon.” He says, the pieces beginning to come together. 
“If he didn’t know how before, his military training would have cultivated those instincts. That’s why purebreds are so sought after by militaries. Of course, it’s a bit different for alphas and omegas, but you are two sides of the same coin.” Dr. Keller smiles. “She’s smart. She’ll begin to figure it out on her own once she’s aware she can do it. In the meantime, just keep doing what you’re doing. If there’s some way she can talk to him or get in contact with him, that may help alleviate some of the depression.” 
He knows it won’t be likely, but if it will help you, he’s willing to take that risk. “I’ll see what I can do.” 
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He stands outside your door, staring at the knob. It’s late, his eyes burning from exhaustion. He’s stressed, not just from the day to day stressors of his job, but your obvious pain and discomfort has been affecting him. It’s affecting all of them. Kyle and Johnny’s times on the course have slowed, their aim is off, and he knows they’re not sleeping well either. 
Even with you beginning to return to your normal routine, your distance from them has proven to affect them more than your presence. Even with you around them, your numbed, absent state has disrupted their abilities to function, to exist as a normal pack. He’s relayed the sudden change to Kate in an attempt to prove his decision not to leave you alone is the right one, and it will help his case should they decide to try and separate you from the pack. 
He can’t think of a reason why they would now. The bonds are too strong. The separation of just one of them has proven to disrupt the bonds between all five of you. He can only imagine how Simon is feeling, being apart from everyone. It’s never bothered him before, but that had been before your presence. If Simon was incapable of fulfilling his duties and performing the task he had been assigned, they would have forced him out of the field and sent him back by now. 
Perhaps your fears were right and Simon isn’t as in love as John thought he was. 
He shakes the thought from his head. He’s seen the way Simon looks at you, the obvious change in his demeanor since your trip to town, the changes that have happened in your demeanor around him. Simon cares for you deeply, more than just as an alpha in your pack. 
He tries the handle of your door, surprised again when it opens. He might have thought you’d start locking it at night again with how much you’ve regressed. Maybe this was your silent plea for help, for comfort, for something other than the emptiness inside you. He slips into the room, letting his eyes adjust to the dim light of your nightlight in the corner. He can’t see you except for your arm tossed around the giant bear. It’s wearing a black shirt, likely the one Johnny had given you. It was a good decision, offering you at least an extension of the missing alpha. 
He approaches the bed quietly, not wanting to startle you. He doesn’t want to climb over you either, but he knows moving the bear will wake you. Perhaps you’re exhausted and sleeping hard enough he won’t disturb you. 
He picks the lesser of two evils, lifting the bear. He curses silently when your body shoots up as soon as the bear slips from your grasp. 
“No!” You shout, almost like an angry child having their toy taken away. It’s a desperate sound, a shocking one, ringing loud in the silence. You’re reaching for the bear, trying to tug it from his hands. 
“Easy, easy.” He says, putting his hand on your arm, your movements slowing to a stop as his touch brings back to reality. “I’m just moving him.” He shifts the bear to your other side, your body rolling to follow it. 
He climbs into the bed, barely managing to fit on the mattress. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of you and the bear, but he’ll manage it. He’s slept in tighter places. He slips an arm under you, the other reaching across you to settle on the bear. 
“Tight squeeze with the three of us.” He says quietly, trying to ease some of the tension. 
“Need bigger beds.” You murmur, voice slightly muffled from where your face is pressed against the bear. 
He chuckles quietly. “I won’t argue with that. Perhaps someday.” 
You shift slightly at his words, obviously not expecting him to continue your conversation from earlier this week. He normally tried to avoid thinking too far into the future. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up for something he might never get to have. Or, at least he used to feel that way. 
Things have changed. 
“I used to think this job would be all I did.” He continues, speaking almost to himself. “I’d never grow old enough to retire. Someday I’d die in the field and that was good enough for me. Then, of course, things changed. Had those three other muppets to worry about.” He slips his arm from the bear to wrap around your stomach. “Then another little muppet got added. Now I’m thinking about a nice little cottage by the sea, big enough for five, with a nice flower garden in the front. Just a short walk to the beach, where we can sit and watch the sun set.” 
“White picket fence dreams.” You say quietly. 
“Or at least the British equivalent of that.” He says, a smile tugging at his lips. 
You shift slightly in his arms, pressing back against his chest as you turn as far as you can. “You mean it?” 
“Of course.” He says, his thumb gently rubbing your stomach through your shirt. “Things have changed. Priorities have shifted, and not just for me.” 
He presses his forehead against the side of your head, breathing in the soft scent of your strawberry body wash and the new vanilla scented shampoo Johnny had gotten you. There’s a faint hint of leather beneath your scent, the smell rubbing off from Simon’s shirt you dressed the bear in. He can almost imagine Simon in place of the bear, both of their arms tangling around you as they surround you and keep you safe from the outside world. Just a moment of peace in the hectic violence and chaos of their lives. 
“John?” You say quietly, pulling him from the edge of sleep that had settled in his mind. 
He hums quietly in response, forcing himself back to consciousness again. 
There’s a moment’s pause, a second of silence, and for a moment he wonders if you’re going to speak at all. “Don’t let go.” You finally say, your voice quiet and broken in the silence. 
“Never.” He says, tightening his hold around you. 
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John's phone ringing drags you from the light sleep you had managed to slip into. It hasn't been long since you drifted off you think, but then again, it's hard to tell. It's still dark out, and you're still in the same position. John lets go of you to reach for his phone on your nightstand barely managing to grab it at the awkward angle he’s at. 
His voice is rough with sleep as he answers. “Hello?” 
It's quiet for a moment. You can't hear much aside from a male voice on the other side. You can't tell who it is or what they're saying. 
“Good to hear.” He says, slipping into the Captain again. 
Something stirs in your stomach as you try to listen, try to catch who it is. Just one word, just one hint. 
“I'm sure.” There’s another pause, this one feeling like a lifetime. “I have someone here next to me that would like to talk to you too.”
You nearly elbow John in the stomach in your frantic attempt to turn over. You yank the offered phone from his hand as you lean the top half of your body on his stomach. “Hello?” Your voice wavers as you say it, the emotions beginning to stir within you again. 
There's a second delay before you hear it. “Hello, love.” 
You nearly cry at finally hearing his voice again, the pet name causing a fluttering in your stomach. You've never heard him call you that before. “I missed you.” You finally say, managing to get the words out. 
“That's what I'm hearing.” He says, and you can imagine the lifting of his cheeks under the mask, the slight crinkle of his eyes as he smiles. 
“When will you be back?” You ask. 
“Soon. Won't be much longer.” He says. 
“Be careful.” You say, your breathing shaky. “You better not come back hurt.” You're not sure you could handle it if he came back on a stretcher, or even with a single bandaid. 
“Yes ma'am.” He says seriously, but you can hear the humor in his tone. “I'll try my best.” 
“Good.” You say, wanting to lay there, to listen to him breathing for a while, just so that you know he’s really there, he’s really alright. You know you can’t though, your fingers shaking as you pass the phone back to John. 
He speaks to Simon for a couple more minutes while you lay across his stomach, listening to the rumble of his voice in your ear. Relief is flooding through you after hearing Simon's voice. He's really alright, he's fine, he's coming home. 
“You alright, sweetheart?” John asks after hanging up, his hand coming to rest on your back. 
A thousand words want to come out of your mouth, but you can't get them up past the lump in your throat. “He called me love.” You finally say, replaying the pet name over and over in your head. 
“Did he?” John asks, and you can picture the way his lips turn up in a smile. 
“He's never called me that before.” You say. 
“Well then I'm sure he meant it.” John says. 
You sure hope so. 
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It's a week later when you get to stand on the tarmac again, waiting for a plane to land. It's early, the sky clear and the sun just starting to rise over the trees, casting everything in a golden light. It’s so vastly different from how the world had looked when he left, the weather seeming to convey your inner feelings. The rain and darkness a perfect symbol of the dread and pain of him leaving. Now that he’s returning the sun is out and the sky is clear, conveying your relief. You’re beginning to feel again, the ache in your chest beginning to lessen. It’s the most alive you’ve felt since he left. 
You're in a dress today, the yellow sundress that Johnny had bought you. You wonder if he’d done it on purpose, perhaps knowing something you don’t. Despite the sun rising, there’s still a chill in the air, and you had quickly stolen his sweatshirt to cover your bare shoulders. 
You squeeze John's hand as the plane comes in to land, watching it approach in eager anticipation. You're going to hug him tightly, throw your arms around him and refuse to let go until you have no choice. You're going to give him the greeting he deserved weeks ago when they all came back. 
He's like a magnet, halfway down the ramp when you start approaching, moving without even thinking. He's in his full mask, the one with the half skull sewed to it. He looks dangerous and deadly, the true visage of a Ghost, but you approach without fear, without hesitation. Underneath all of it you know there’s Simon, the man you’ve quickly fallen in love with. 
You're ready to hug him, to feel him again, to wrap yourself around him like you could sink right into his body. 
You're not prepared for what he does next. 
One of his hands reaches up, the fabric of his gloves rough on your skin as he grips your chin, his thumb on one side, digging into your jaw, the other four fingers on the other side holding your head still. His other hand pulls his mask up over his mouth, giving you a glimpse of his stubble and chapped lips. 
You don't get to look long as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. 
It's like time freezes as he kisses you, your skin erupting in goosebumps, and it's not from the cold air. You weren't expecting this, your brain trying to catch up, to process that this is really happening, that this is real. 
He tilts your head to the side, deepening the kiss as he leans closer into you. Your hands reach up, closing around the sleeves of his jacket. He's real, he's really here, and he's kissing you. 
The moment likely doesn't last more than 30 seconds, but it feels like forever as his lips move against yours. It might be cliche to say fireworks are going off, but that may have just been the engines of the plane shutting down.  
He finally pulls away from you, his hand still gripping your jaw. You could melt into a puddle right there, his eyes speaking volumes of what's going on in his head. He's done a lot of thinking in his time away. You wonder how many thoughts you've shared over the last two weeks. 
“Should have done that before I left.” He says, his voice rough, but just as you remember. 
Tears prick behind your eyes as you stare up at him. His fingers are digging into your jaw, but you don’t care. He’s here, he’s back, he’s safe, and he just kissed you like you’d wanted to before he left. 
“I wish you had.” You say, as he slowly releases your jaw, his hand brushing your throat before it drops to his side. You let out a shaky breath before throwing your arms around him, holding onto him tightly. 
“What are you doing?” He says, taking you back all those weeks ago to when you hugged him the first time. There’s no confusion in his tone now though, instead there’s an amused lilt to it. 
“Giving you the hug you deserve so you don't get mad at me.” You say, your voice slightly muffled from your face being squished against his chest.
“You think I'd get mad about not getting a hug after kissing you?” He asks, patting your back. 
“Just making sure.” You say, his chuckle reverberating in your ear. 
You don’t release him as he begins to walk to where the others are, keeping your arms wrapped around him tightly. He greets the others, Johnny squishing you between them as he hugs his alpha. You don't care as Ghost's armor digs into your body, it's just a reminder that this is real. He's really here. This isn’t a dream. 
He's really back. 
You sit between Simon and Johnny in the back seat of the car. It's a tight squeeze between the two, but you don't care one bit. Johnny's hand rests on your thigh as John drives back to the barracks. Perhaps you’re still reeling a bit from the kiss, or perhaps it’s Simon’s scent, but you want to push Johnny’s hand higher, hike up your dress and hope Simon gets a peek at what's waiting underneath. You won’t though. You want him to be comfortable. You want your first moments of intimacy to be just the two of you, something special. 
Dread begins to fill you again as the car rolls to a stop outside the barracks. You know what to expect now, having gone through it once before. He’s not truly back, he still has to leave you again. At least this time, you have the others. 
“I'll see you soon.” Simon says, squeezing your arm. 
“Hurry back?” You stare up at him. 
“As fast as I can.” He says, the corners of his eyes crinkling. 
You're tempted to kiss him again, but you don't want to push his boundaries. Sure, he had kissed you, but it could have been a fluke, a one time thing born out of desire and time spent apart. 
You won't care if he never kisses you again. At least you know what it feels like. 
Thankfully he makes the decision for you as he turns his body slightly towards you, as much as he can in the tight space. He lifts the bottom of his mask, leaning down to kiss you again. You purr against his lips, your scent exploding in the car like a smoke bomb. 
Johnny lets out an extensive curse as he fumbles for the door handle, forcing it open in an attempt to escape the sudden onslaught. Kyle is quick to follow, allowing more air in to disperse the intensity of your scent in the confined space. John rolls his window down, lighting a cigar, trying to do anything to keep your scent from going straight to his head. 
You feel giddy and almost proud as Simon places one last soft peck against your lips. You don’t want to let him go, but you know you have to. He’s not quite yours yet. He still has more of his job to do before then. 
Always the job first. 
Your lips are still tingling as you walk into the barracks, your heart still fluttering in your chest. Johnny is staring at you, almost walking sideways. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, your face warming. 
“What?” You ask, finally looking at him. He’s wearing that stupid, smug grin on his face again.
“Been a long time since I've seen him like that” He says, squeezing your arm gently. “Not since his first romp with Kyle.” 
You turn to look at the other beta behind you who simply shrugs. “What can I say? No one's immune to my charm.” He gives you a dazzling smile. He’s not wrong, his smile causing butterflies to flutter in your stomach. 
“Cannae wait to see him glowin’ after his first taste of our sweet omega.” Johnny says, backing you against the wall. 
“Yeah, well, you might be waiting forever for that.” You say, stopping his approach with a hand on his chest. 
He tilts his head at you, his brows furrowing. “What do ye mean, kitten?” 
“I'm not even sure he's going to want that, much less if he'll do it.” You shrug. The thought has been going through your mind despite the kiss in the car. Though he’s kissed you twice, that’s a big leap to make, a leap you might never make. 
Johnny snorts at your response. “Kitten, he's been holdin’ himself back for weeks. He's just worried he may...be too much for ye.”
You give Johnny a look. “I can handle you, can't I?”
Johnny grins. “Aye, but this is...different. He's not gonnae make the first move. If ye want it,” He leans in closer. “Yer gonnae have to do it yourself.”
“Well,” You slip under his arm, nearly making him faceplant on the wall. “Then I best save my stamina for him, then.” 
Kyle laughs, patting Johnny's back. “Set yourself up for that one, mate.”
You peel off Johnny's sweatshirt, adjusting the top of your dress before tossing his sweatshirt to him. “I'll see you both later.” You give them a smirk before turning on your toes, heading back to your room. 
Johnny curses quietly behind you, and you just know his eyes are glued to your ass. 
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Johnny’s words replay over and over in your head as you go through your day as usual. Simon had returned to the barracks, going straight to his room to shower. You had been tempted to step into the hallway, to wait for him, but you know he’s not free yet. He still has paperwork to do, which you know from experience that could take a long time. 
Thankfully, that gives you plenty of time to think about what you’re going to do. You're going to have to make the first move, but what if you move too fast? How do you even broach the subject? 
“Hey Simon, welcome back. Would you like to rearrange my guts?” 
“I cried the whole time you were gone, would you like to make me cry for a different reason?”
“Bend me over and fuck me like a real alpha.”
You facepalm at your own thoughts. You could just slowly initiate it. Start with touches, getting closer, more kisses. Leave yourself open to him in hopes he gets the message, that he pushes past that boundary and finally fucks you like he wants to. 
Heat blooms in your stomach, sinking between your legs. You're all worked up and he’s only kissed you twice. Johnny’s words don’t help the fantasies in your mind. He’s scared you won’t be able to handle him. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. He’s a big man. You know, you’ve felt it before. It’s hard not to, with some of the positions he’s put you in during your training, nothing but those grey sweatpants and his underwear as a barrier. 
You wonder how he'll do it. Bend you over so you won't see his face? Keep the mask on and put you on your back so you can hold eye contact with him? Or will he finally take the mask off, finally let you see his face? 
You assume the others have seen it, so when will it be your turn? 
It’s not until after dinner when you hear footsteps down the hall. Johnny had gotten food for Simon who was still deep in his paperwork when you left for the mess. Despite his absence at the table still, it had felt less gaping, less like a black hole threatening to suck you all in. He’s back, he’s here. Soon he’ll fill that empty space again. 
You try to stop yourself from running out of your room when the steps get closer. You’re not even sure it’s him. You don’t want to disappoint the others if you leave your room so excitedly in the hopes that they’re Simon. So instead, you stay seated on the edge of your bed, staring at your unlocked door. You want him to open it, to step into your room, but you know he won’t. He’s never been in your room. The furthest he’s entered is your doorway. 
You’ll have to make the first move. 
Your stomach nearly leaps out of your body as the boots stop in front of your door. You hold your breath in anticipation, too scared to move, too scared to throw open the door and risk your excitement being too much. You might push him away in your eagerness, but you’re not sure you can hide it much longer. You’d let him bend you over with the door open, hell, you’d let him take you in the hallway. 
One step at a time. One step at a time. 
You repeat it over and over in your head as you push yourself off your bed, moving to the door. He’s not going to knock, he’s going to wait for you to open it, for you to remove that barrier between you. He’s giving you the chance to change your mind, to go back, to call the two kisses enough and draw the line where you want it. 
The doorknob is cold in your sweaty hand as you grasp it, turning it slowly. The gavel is falling, the slow opening of the door marks the finality, the crumbling of the final barrier. There’s no going back. The bond is too strong, the line has been removed completely. 
You stare up at Simon as the door swings as far as it will open. His eye black is gone, washed off in the shower revealing the pale skin underneath. He smells good, cleaner than he had on the tarmac. You can smell it despite the space between you. Under the smell of his generic soap you can pick up his natural scent. Leather and eucalyptus and the musk of alpha. You want to drown yourself in it, rub it all over your skin until your own scent is gone. 
“Hi.” You say, goosebumps forming across your skin from the intensity of his gaze. You’d forgotten how sharp it is, how easily he can peel away your layers as he stares at you. 
“Hi.” He says, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. You’d forgotten how deep it really is, the roughness around the edges harsher than usual, but you expected that. They had all been a bit hoarse after returning from their group deployment. 
You continue to stare at him, lost in his earthy gaze. The hole in your chest has lessened to almost nothing, slowly the bond repairing itself just from the knowledge he's here, he’s standing in front of you. He’s real. 
You clear your throat, smoothing your hands over your dress. His eyes drop, following the movement. “I thought you'd want to rest.” It's the first thing you can think of to say, speechless in his presence. He must be tired. 
“I slept on the plane.” He shrugs. 
“Yeah, but surely a real bed is a relief.” You say. You’d half expected him to retreat to his room, seeking out a comfortable bed. They’re not all that comfortable, but compared to what he probably was sleeping on these last couple weeks, it must feel like heaven. 
“Probably is.” He says, his gaze shifting back to your face. 
You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at him. You’re testing the waters, pushing into new territory as the last walls of the barrier crumble around you. “You could go rest.” You say, shifting on your feet, giving him the option to turn away, to change his mind. “I’m sure you missed your bed.” 
He’s still as a statue as he looms in your doorway, his frame filling it easily, making you feel small. “I'd rather relax in yours.”
Your face warms at his words, not expecting him to say that. The warmth pooling in your stomach intensifies, your heart fluttering in your chest. You’re not sure what happened during his assignment, what caused such a drastic change. You want to know what went through his head, what he was thinking about. Did he picture you at night when he got a moment to rest? Was he imagining you there with him, curled up against him? Or was he picturing you in other positions? 
You might never know, just another secret hidden between you. 
A shudder runs through him. You can see it, the slight twitch in his body, his hands closing into fists. He’s responding to you, to your scent. Such power you could hold over him if you were brave enough to try. 
Such power he could hold over you, if he wanted to. 
“You could come in.” You say, taking half a step back in invitation. 
He doesn’t move, still frozen there like a statue. You wonder how he stays so still, but that was probably part of his training. Be as steady as possible while shooting, how to be invisible even in broad daylight. “You're sure?” He finally rumbles out, his foot shifting just a centimeter, but you catch it. 
You shrug. “Why not? You are part of this pack. You could have entered sooner, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t have minded.” 
He hesitates for just a second before moving his foot from the tile and into your room. He pauses there for a moment, watching you, waiting for a reaction. It’s your turn to stay still, staring up at him as he makes the slow transition into your room, venturing into your sacred space, a place he’s never been in before. 
He moves the other foot, taking the first step over that line, pushing himself past that barrier, leaving it crumbling behind him. 
There’s no going back. 
Something shifts inside you as he enters your room, a weight you hadn’t even realized was there lifting off your shoulders. The hole in your chest is gone, the missing piece back in place. All the tumultuous emotions, all the stress and the fear and the anguish is gone. Your room is safe again, complete again with him in it. Tears prick at your eyes as relief floods through you. No one is getting in, no one can get in now, not with him here. You want to hug him, to kiss him again, drag him onto the bed and make him hold you for a while. 
You don’t. You stay still as he takes in your space, his eyes scanning your belongings and your decorations. He’s never truly seen it in the light. The only time he’d stared into it was that morning when you thought maybe someone had broken in, when your fear had fucked with your emotions enough to think they’d truly let someone enter without their knowledge. 
How silly that thought had been. 
His eyes move to your bed, landing on the giant bear wearing his black shirt. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare at it as well, suddenly thinking you should have removed the shirt, shoving it into your laundry and moving the bear back to your desk. Yet, you want him to see it, want him to see that you tried to comfort yourself in his absence, tried to make a placeholder for him. You won’t need it now, though. Not with the real thing standing in your space. 
He shakes his head as he stares at it, rolling his eyes as he lets out a sigh. “Fucking hell.”
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silent-sanctum · 2 years
Text
A Slice of Morioh: "Little Miss"
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Summary: Having newly arrived in the quaint little town of Morioh-cho, you entrust your daughter to 2 teenagers who wouldn't suspect to be the child of someone they already know, let alone someone who never looked like the type.
Today was a sunny day. A perfect time for classic Josuke-Okuyasu shenanigans.
When Josuke wasn't preoccupied with Stand hunt or school, his ultimate pastimes were always spent with the always-down-for-anything Okuyasu. Koichi was always invited and often times hung out with the duo during school break periods, but outside the grounds, he spends his time studying or with his new sociopathic girlfriend Yukako.
What they did during these pastimes were near limitless in variety- from searching for change around town with Shigechi, go on a food spree, marathon a shit ton of video games that they hoarded, and other ideas they would procure.
It was only on this particular day that they had 0 clue on what to do. Spending time on the benches by the street weren't exactly their standard activity. "Oi Josuke..." Okuyasu said, lying on the concrete with a contemplative expression. "Are you sure we went to Tonio's last week? Maybe it was a different Italian restaurant we haven't heard about?"
The pompadour student exhaled a heavy sigh. "You had your spine explode and your teeth raining onto the pasta. Where else other than Tonio's could that happen?"
"You have a point."
"Excuse me, you two over there!" Josuke hummed in question, turning over to his left to see who called out to him and his best friend.
From the distance, he could pinpoint a female figure approaching them with a tiny child by her side. She looked mature enough to indicate she was older than him, sporting a thin teal coat over a white shirt-and-short set and white boots.
The child beside her was no more than 10, with space buns for hair and a black-neon green motif going on as her color palette. It's a cute addition for small butterfly clips to dot her clothes for that cherry-on-top bonus.
"Josuke Higashikata, correct?" The female turned to his best friend with same recognition. "And you must be Okuyasu Nijimura."
"Uh t-that would be us yes?" Josuke stammered. If his memory didn't fail him, he didn't remember seeing this woman's face around town and being moderately friendly with nearly every civilian here, he should have known her appearance at the very least.
She knew his name but he didn't know who she was.
"Who are you and how'd you know our names?" Okuyasu said back hunched as he scanned you, narrowing his eyes. "You're pretty though, not gonna lie."
"Ah I'm new here in case you were wondering. I'm Y/N and this is my daughter Jolyne." You turned to look at the child, who had her tiny hands wrapped around her mother's leg, shy. "Say hi to the nice men, pearl."
Jolyne glanced at the squatting student with the pompadour and without looking, said a quick "hello" and immediately hurried to hide behind the adult.
"Oh ho, not used to strangers is she?" Josuke said with an amused smile.
"It may look like that but she usually gets along rather fast with people she just met if you spend enough time with her," you chuckled, petting the top of Jolyne's head.
"Speaking of which, how'd you know us exactly?"
"Ah yes! My husband told me about you two. He isn't exactly a too-trusting person on the daily. So for him to say he trusts you two is a big deal," you said. "Well...trusts mostly Josuke but you seem like a nice guy too Okuyasu."
Husband? Josuke subtly glanced down at your left hand, and saw a shining silver band wrapped snuggly around your ring finger. "O-Oh, I'm flattered and all, but what's the whole trust thing gotta do with us?"
"I'm working with an organization and one of the assignments I need to find just so happens to be in vacation location of Morioh. I have a lead on him and I might be able to catch him within the day," you explained. "But no one's going to watch my little girl. Her great-grandpa is here but I don't wanna stress him more."
"But mommy, I can watch over myself with grandpa at the hotel daddy's staying in," Jolyne whined, tugging at her mother's coat.
"You know your dad's still a bit paranoid with us here so he needs some reassurance that someone is making sure his little pearl is safe. You don't want daddy to get worried, right?" Jolyne pouted, but nodded in understanding.
"That's my girl." You kissed the girl's chubby cheek and turned her attention to Josuke and Okuyasu. "I have to go. I'll try to be back by 5 PM, but if I end up late, her father's going to fetch her. You two good with that?"
"Sure thing Y/N-san!"
"Promise me you'll watch over her carefully."
"We promise!"
"Awesome." You motioned the child forward and she slowly walked to the teenager's side with tiny steps. Just then, your phone rang and you plucked the blocky device out of your bag. You groaned but looked at the boys with a smile. "Thanks a bunch guys."
"Wait!" Josuke called out, stopping you from going as you had the phone by your ear. "What does her father look like? We just want to make sure she's given to the right person."
"Ah yes sir, hold on for a moment- her dad's tall and intimidating. You'll know who it is the second he steps in don't worry. She's a huge daddy's girl!" You flashed one more reassuring smile before heading off to the opposite direction with a slight jog to your steps.
Well... at least they knew what they were going to do for the day.
"Alright! Where do you want uncle Josuke to take you?" He said as upbeat as possible, just to make the little girl feel less anxious with a teenager she just met.
"I-I don't know, but im hungry."
"Well there's the sandwich shop Shigechi goes to a lot." Okuyasu offered. "Or we can go to Tonio's."
"Dude, you always want to go to Tonio's." Josuke groaned. He glanced down at Jolyne and smiled. "You hungry? Do you want to grab a sandwich?"
Jolyne shook her head. "Not hungry for sandwiches..." She had a cute little pout on her face before her eyes widened and turned to look at Josuke. "Ice cream? Can we have ice cream instead?"
"Ooh a sweet tooth type of kid," he chuckled, patting her shoulders. "Roger that. Next destination, the ice cream parlor!"
All 3 went to the said location, happy to find out the place wasn't as booked and busy like the last few times the duo went there. At Jolyne's request, Josuke ordered for her a simple vanilla cone topped with sprinkles and chocolate syrup, while he bought popsicles for him and Okuyasu.
He thought back to what you said just as you were about to leave. About what her father possibly looked like so he could lend her over to the right person. Tall and intimidating... man, Josuke could list of any tall adult in Morioh and as far as he know, older strangers were a bit scary.
"Hey kid," Josuke tapped the girl's shoulder. In the middle of her dessert snacking, she glanced at the student with wide eyes. "What does your dad look like?"
"Didn't you already ask mommy about that?"
"It doesn't hurt to ask again..." He murmured, scratching the back of his neck.
"Well... daddy is really tall and looks scary to a lot of people, but if you get to know him, he's super nice and brings me to work a lot!" Jolyne gleefully said, waving her arms around.
"U-uh I need an image. You know eye color, hair color, what types of clothes he wear, stuff like that."
"Ah. I have daddy's hair and eyes. I liked the color yellow so my mommy and daddy dyed my bangs yellow." Jolyne giggled, finishing the last of her ice cream treat. "He dresses cool too."
So black hair and blue-green eyes. Got it.
The day continued and under the clear sunny sky, Josuke and Okuyasu figured taking the child to stroll around the park would be a fun idea considering they could visit the playground on the way.
"Hey mister?" Josuke hummed, looking down at her with open eyes. "Your hairstyle's funny-looking."
Josuke paused.
Jolyne reached to tug at the pompadour student's uniform, wondering why the teenager stopped midway their path. "Mister?"
"Kid, shhh!" Okuyasu immediately crouched to Jolyne's level to cup her mouth in panic. "You can't say stuff like that about his hair."
"Why not? His hair reminds me of the steak I ate in Florida, but blue!"
A threatening purple glow emanated out of the teenager, a scowl fixated on his face. "Oi oi oi, you better watch what you say kid." Though it was irrational, Crazy Diamond was at the brink of surfacing, ready to give the child a lesson... a more lenient lesson. "I'm about to teach you something but you won't like it."
"Josuke, Josuke, I think we should calm down before we Uh... hurt a small child." Okuyasu said in an attempt to divert the other's attention away from the accidental insult.
But the words turned useless in the teenager's ears as he continued glaring at the girl. "But it does look like steak for me. Why are you angry?"
"You little-"
"Are you threatening me?" Both teens shared the same look of surprise at the sudden bold outburst and angry disposition of a 6-year-old child.
Josuke continued regardless. She's a little kid, what's she about to do? Punch my knees? Kick my shins? "Yeah I am, what are you gonna do about it kid?"
"I'm going to tell daddy about this. He hates it when I'm threatened."
Josuke chuckled. "Ho ho, bet your father's not gonna know what's coming to him if that's the case." If her father's not Stand user, he'd be willing to bet the risk of ruining the man's face and he's not gonna know what hit him.
"Dude hold up!" the other student exclaimed, waving his hands in a panic as the two engaged in a heated stare down. "Think about Y/N Josuke. Are you really going to be able to handle seeing the hurt on her face knowing you beat her kid?"
At the thought of your trusting smile, Josuke reeled back his temper and focused on quelling his petty habit of bursting into anger at one jab about his hairstyle. He let out one big exhale and forced himself to chuckle. "You know what? This guy's got a point."
Okuyasu puffed out his chest, proud of himself. Jolyne, however, kept her narrowed gaze firm, pouting with crossed arms.
"Oh and would you look at that?" Josuke said, peering off into the distance causing the girl and his best friend to follow his line of sight. "It's the playground!"
In almost an instant, Jolyne beamed and gasped, forgetting the fact she was probably considering making him her enemy. "Playground?! Can we go?"
They, in fact went to the playground where the little girl spent her time on the seesaw (with Okuyasu on the other side), the slides, and the swing set.
Other than ordinary babysitting moments, the trio spent the remaining day doing whatever children liked to do. On some occasions, Jolyne would simply follow wherever the two teenagers would go: Sneaking into the school's gym, Tonio's restaurant, the arcade, Cafe Deux Margots, Rohan's place for shits and giggles, etc.
By 5 PM, they settled down in front of Josuke's house, just outside on the doorstep. Jolyne fell asleep on his lap, tired from all her mini exploration around Morioh with her new friends. Josuke told Okuyasu that he could call it a day, but the latter was determined to complete this babysitting mission the way they started it: Together.
Okay that was cheesy. Josuke cringed.
About 10 minutes later, a voice called out. "Oi Josuke. Okuyasu." Snapping out of his sleepy daze, the teenager looked up to see Jotaro standing in front of him, clad in his mostly white get-up.
"Oh hey Jotaro-san," he yawned and nudged the other student, who fell asleep on the grass, awake. "Another Stand user case?"
"There's no update about a new Stand user emerging so that's not the case for now." He glanced down to see the sleeping child on Josuke's lap. "I see you've been busy the whole day."
"Ah yes! We've kept our time occupied being good citizens of town by watching over this gorgeous chick's child by bringing her around the place," Okuyasu said, grinning widely.
"Oh?"
"That's right! And now we're just waiting for her dad to show up so we can hit the hay inside," Josuke continued.
"I see... well you all must be tired." Jotaro sighed and stepped forward towards the little girl. "I'll take over from here."
"Woah woah now! I'm gonna need you to stop right there." The pompadour student rose his hand, holding the girl closer to him.
The gesture only made the adult cock a brow with question. "Excuse me?"
"I know you're secretly concerned over our well-being, that you're a fully grown adult, and all that but just to let you know, we made a promise to this child's mom that we will be the one sending her off to her father," Josuke said.
"Yeah! We promised!" Added in by Okuyasu with the same determined huff. "We don't do broken promises here."
"That's good to know but it's getting late and she has to-"
"No buts! We will be standing firm right here even if it takes us all night." The student could feel his ego flare up, proud that he was standing up for himself against someone as stoic as the marine biologist.
Even though the said biologist was unamused, the visor of his hat shading over his eyes. Josuke had to keep telling himself to not dissolve into a nervous breakdown from the stern look the adult was giving him now.
Jolyne shifted around and blinked her eyes open, yawning. "Noisy, noisy..." She mumbled, looking to whoever disturbed her sleep. The second she laid her eyes on the adult, she broke into a big smile, squirming in the teen's hold.
"Daddy!"
"Oh is he here?" Josuke looked ahead, past the mountain of a man and towards the street off to the side to see for a nearing person. "Where is he tho-"
"Daddy's here!" Jolyne pried Josuke's arms off of her and rushed forward. "Daddy!"
At the same time, Jotaro crouched down momentarily to open his arms and welcome the child's tiny yet tight hug, reciprocating it with a gentler one. "How's my little pearl?"
"I missed you! You didn't come home last night to read me my bedtime story," Jolyne pouted, prompting the man to huff and ruffle her hair.
"I did come home last night but you were already sleeping with mommy by the time I came back."
"Still... you should've woke me up and put me back to sleep again."
Jotaro lifted her off the ground, settling her on his arm. "That's... not a good idea, but I'll try to come home earlier for you. Would that be alright?"
"Mhm!"
Wait. Hold on.
Josuke and Okuyasu had to bide in a few seconds to process what just happened. From the second she woke up down to the last moment of her being carried by the most stoic Stand user in Morioh.
"J-Jotaro-san... you're a dad??"
"And is there a problem with that?" He said curtly, brushing Jolyne's bangs to the side.
Not once in his life would he imagine that the ever so busy, no-time-for-emotions Jotaro Kujo would actually be a legitimate father to a girl. But having Jolyne as his daughter also meant-
"Wait you're married???" Okuyasu exclaimed.
"...Yes?" Josuke subtly glanced to the adult's hand to spot an identical silver band wrapped around his ring finger.
The teenager wondered how the hell you've managed to seduce this man into being your devoted husband when all he responds to the opposite sex were either neutrality or hostility (as based from his observations at least).
No. No that can't be. This must be a joke. It has to be some elaborate prank that's so well orchestrated it's real. Sure the man's capable of achieving a family but knowing him, his demeanor, and his workload?
"Pearl, how about you show these boys your little birthmark." Jotaro said, making the little girl nod and tug the collar of her dress down to the side. On the back of her shoulder, a clear star-shaped mark was revealed in the clear of day.
"I got this from daddy. He also has one on his back." Jolyne said with pride.
No shit. This is legit. "A-Ah okay then."
"Oh! I forgot to tell you something." Oh crap.
Jotaro hummed. "What is it?"
"A while ago, I said uncle Josuke's hair looked like blue steak-" Oh crap oh crap oh crap.
The pompadour student loudly chuckled, cutting off the child's direct statement. "And I laughed it off. You know how I brew in anger every time someone insults my hair? None of that with her. She's a sweet little cutie."
"That's not true. He threatened me. Said he'll teach me something I won't like."
Shit. Josuke risked a glance at the biologist's response and as expected, that familiar shade over his eyes and tight lips returned, purely focused on Josuke. "Is that so?"
"Uhuh, and he said you're not gonna know what coming when I said I'll be telling you," Jolyne puffed her chest and cheeks, mildly upset.
Josuke's knees nearly buckled the moment as Jotaro radiated that specific aura and a mirage of Star Platinum emerged out of him, white-gloved fist already clenched. He just hoped he won't use time stop all of a sudden to knock the living daylights out of him.
"I'd say otherwise..." He glared at the teenager and the latter broke into a nervous sweat, already imagining the clock's ticking coming to halt. "But you and I know better."
Josuke exhaled in relief, the weight of dread lifted of his shoulders. "Well, would you look at the time! It's about time I head home-"
Before Okuyasu could continue and possibly flee (so much for sticking together), Jolyne casually pointed at him and said, "He called mommy pretty."
The mentioned student tripped over himself. Now it was his turn to break into nervous sweating as the adult supplied his daughter's comment. "I'm aware. He called mommy a 'gorgeous chick' minutes ago as well. In a tone that sounded like he was planning to hit on my wife."
Star made another appearance yet again and Okuyasu got on his knees as he shielded himself. "N-No not at all Jotaro-san! I was just saying Y/N's objectively pretty! No plans whatsover! Please don't hurt me!"
The marine biologist didn't respond for a solid second before letting out one deep sigh with his Stand fading back into him. "Again... we know better."
"We should get going. It's getting late and Y/N's most likely back in the hotel wondering where we are." Jotaro looked at Jolyne and cocked his head at their direction. "Say goodbye."
She turned to them and waved. "Bye-bye uncle Josuke and uncle Okuyasu!"
And as simple as that, the father-daughter duo left the Higashikata residence, leaving the best friends dumbfounded and unable to process what just happened.
"You know... when you think about it," Josuke said. "Knowing someone like him has a family, kinda makes me wanna snoop more about his personal life. Is that wrong?"
"Bro, I was thinking about the exact same thing," Okuyasu said in return. "We should invite Koichi too. He'll be missing out."
And both them grinned as a result.
After that day, the relentless Josuke-Okuyasu duo had a new pastime added to the list.
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drstonetrivia · 8 months
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Chapter 7 Trivia
A-Hakone we will go, A-Hakone we will go, Heigh-ho, the volcan-o, A-Hakone we will go.
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Senku seems determined to break all the pots even if, to me, it doesn't match up with what his goals are.
However I'm imagining whoever Tsukasa revived next was using pots crafted by Tsukasa's hand. (If they decided to remake any)
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~80km, or about 17 hours of walking (at about 5km/hr), basically as the crow flies. Taiju could run it in 5 hours, going at 16 km/hr. They stop for one night and probably do the trip in two days.
The Tokyo <-> Hakone route becomes pretty important down the road.
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With Senku's crude sextant, he just lines the sights up with the sun and reads the angle that way. A proper sextant has mirrors, so you adjust the angle until the horizon and sun are aligned in the view piece.
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If we assume the sun rises at 5:30AM (it's currently around springtime), then 35,970 seconds later is 10 hours later, making it about 3:30PM.
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Modern buildings simply aren't built to last thousands of years. Needs change, and thus things are only built to last ~100 years, so it makes sense that there's nothing left.
If you wanted to build something to last 3,700 years, check out the Great Pyramids for inspiration!
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Interestingly, skyscrapers may last longer because of the amount of glass in them and the strength of the concrete. This is probably why Roppongi hills is still identifiable but people's houses aren't.
Obviously this doesn't account for severe natural disasters.
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If they're in Kamakura, they did not go as the crow flies, and the whole trip becomes 94km (20 hours of walking).
Fun fact: if you visit the Great Buddha, you can peek inside the hollow structure from the back.
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Bronze can last an incredibly long time. the Antikythera Mechanism survived for around 2000 years despite the seawater thanks to bronze's resistance to corrosion. Like Senku says, bronze will also leach copper into the soil, which can kill plants if there's a high amount present.
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Prunus yedoensis is one of the most widely planted cherry cultivars, and they're all clones of the same plant. This works by grafting a branch onto another tree, making the "top half" a cherry tree, or alternatively just using cuttings.
The tree itself has a short lifespan.
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These are Japanese Horsetail, better known as tsukushi. They're similar to asparagus in appearance and taste, but have hollow stems.
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Senku needs one hand on his stick to check stability, so he holds his shoes in one hand. Yuzuriha can hold her shoes in both hands. Taiju needs both hands to hold all their stuff, so his are tucked into his belt.
I thought it was a nice detail :)
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Nitric acid burns skin, so I assume RF would too, but Yuzuriha is saying it's cold? Is she talking about the stone feeling cold? If that part of her foot is fully stone, how is she walking if she can't bend her toes? Is it just a stone layer on top of skin?
I've got questions.
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Detective Tsukasa is on the case! He seems to have some basic tracking knowledge, but more impressively he can predict Senku's moves very accurately using both his knowledge of science and possibly fighter's instincts. Senku doesn't stand a chance…
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Hakone is in a volcanic region with lots of natural onsen and a view of Mt. Fuji to the northwest. This scene resembles Owakudani - a geothermic area north of Mt. Hakone, along the Hakone ropeway route.
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Owakudani natural hot springs seem to range in temperature between 36.3 and 96.0°C. There's no telling what the exact temperature of the pool they chose is, but Senku obviously can't take the heat.
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Senku uses the terms "gunpowder" and "black powder" interchangably. This isn't technically incorrect, as up until recently they were the same thing. Nowadays, we also have smokeless powder that can be used for the same purpose.
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(Also, if you don't recognise the tune at the beginning of the thread it's "A-Hunting We Will Go", a folk song/nursery rhyme.)
Finally, several of these were taken directly from Caleb Cook's trivia, so credit where it's due.
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troll-medicull-advice · 6 months
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jus+. ou+ of curiosi+y. how much. does c^u+eriz^+ion hur+. ^nd how ho+. does i+ need +o be. no pressure +hough.
... 👀
it hurts a lot. 😐
like. i helped my moirail with it when we were younger and he was screaming constantly for hours. 🙁
granted, he lost two limbs and an eye, and we were also under three sweeps old, so... 🙁
anyway. if you're cauterizing any troll below olive, heat the tool to a dull red glow. ⬇️
from olive to cerulean, you'd want to heat it to like a medium cherry red. I don't know if this is disrespectful, but for a reference, think of those pictures of the signless on his death.↕️
and for indigobloods or higher, heat the tool to the point where it starts being orange instead of a light pink.⬆️
the heating temperatures are so bacteria can be killed effectively without killing the troll. higher temperatures mean a lower risk of infection right away, but also may provide a significant risk to the troll if they are of a lower caste. 🌡️
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Note
I’ve got an unusually smart crewmate. She gets bored with simple tasks and insists on harder ones. She’s also learned, all on her own, how to unlock my phone and most of my locks, including the one on my room where I keep my welding and woodcutting equipment. Thankfully she’s too short to reach the equipment. Any advice?
If your amongus is bored with traditional tasks, try more challenging activities. You could try to teach her a board game, like tic-tac-toe or Hi-Ho-Cherry-O.
As for the locks, keep the most dangerous things well out of reach, and use combination locks instead of child locks. Amongus paws aren't coordinated enough to spin the dials on combination locks.
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Text
"T-told you not to tou-urp-ch w-what is mine, d-didn't I?"
Morty froze, his shiny, cherry colored lips parting for a gasp as he was forcefully pulled up by his hair from his bed where he was peacefully (hornily) sleeping. A barrel of a gun pressed against his temple, as his tearful eyes met with furious blues.
"I-i'm s-sorry, Rick!" He breathed. The metal pressed painfully.
"S-selfish, ba-urp-ad boys don't get to s-say sorrys! I told you, didn't I? Y-you are mine. O-only I can t-urp-ouch you, yet you dared t-to disobey?!" Broad fingers ran down his side, the callouses roughly sliding on sensitive skin.
"I-I-I… i-it was an accident!" Morty whined, his cock under his pink panties still achingly hard. He was dreaming about his Rick, and he might have gripped himself in his sleep, but-
"Accident, huh?" Icy voice growled, hooking a wandering finger into his panty, snapping the band that slapped against Miami Morty's loin in a painful sting. "I'll sh-ough-ow you a-accindent!"
The gun pressed harder against his head, making Morty breathless, scared, and more turned on than ever before. Miami Rick dragged the gun down, slowly sliding it against Morty's lips, through his pretty pink nipples, back down on his spine, until it slipped under his hot pink underwear, between his ass cheeks.
Morty jerked, breathing hard and fast. Miami Rick's hand gripped his long, blond hair, turning his face upward, making him look straight into those ice cold blues.
"B-bad boys, who can't ta-urp-ke orders, must be p-punished," he said. The cold metal of the gun made Morty tremble, in fear, in want, he didn't know. Licking his strawberry-flavored lips, he gasped for air. The dark scent of leather, gunpowder and alcohol invaded his senses, making his head spin.
Miami Morty whimpered.
"Y-you insatiable bitch," murmured Rick, withdrawing the gun, just to press it against his back, between his shoulder blades. "A-are you a g-good boy f-urp-or Daddy?"
The question was whispered against his ear, making him shiver and moan.
"Yes."
"Strip," Miami Rick ordered, his hand letting the blonde hair go and Morty immediately took off his tiny panties and loose shirt. "G-good boy." His free hand snaked down towards his legs, tapping one slight thigh, instructing Morty to spread them without a word. The young boy opened them, granting access to calloused fingers.
Morty shivered as fingers grazed his cock, but leaving way too suddenly. Rick gathered his hair again into his fist, wrapping long locks around his hand and yanking Morty's head back. Miami Rick traced his grandson's jawline with the gun. The pretty boy instinctively parted his lips, his oral fixation kicking in.
"T-tell me ho-urp-w good boy you are, Kitten," Rick smirked, caressing the pink lips with the cold gun.
"R-r-really good," Morty whimpered, rolling his hips in a vain attempt to seek friction.
Rick's eyes hungrily took in the sight under him. His gun glistened with Morty's saliva, the boy basically panting to stuff his holes full.
"We'll see," Rick growled, pushing the gun past the boy's life. Morty moaned and wrapped his tongue around the barbell, teasing the gun like it was Rick's cock. He wasn't sure if the safety was on is not, but not really caring about either way, trusting in Rick completely, and he took the barrel deep into his mouth. He sucked, drool dripping down his chin. It sat heavy and thick on his tongue, and he swallowed eagerly the gunpowder taste. Looking up from under his eyelashes, he could see Rick's hungry gaze as his grandfather watched him giving head to a gun. It was intense and Morty felt he could come from just that look, and the mortal danger he swallowed deep in his throat. His eyes fluttered shut, everything felt too much, yet not enough.
"G-good Kitten," Rick said, his voice shaking. He, too, was as affected by what was happening as Morty was. Pulling his gun away from those cherry red temptations and throwing it away, he unzipped his pants, taking his throbbing cock out. He ran his hand along his hardened length a few times before running his hands down on Morty's body to grab his tights. He hoisted him up, and his Kitten wrapped his long legs around his hips.
Rick ran his swollen tip along Morty's always ready holes teasing his grandson with it, drowning them both to madness. Both grandpa and grandson moaned as Rick pushed his tip inside. Just the tip, yet it was better than anything and anybody he used in his long life. His Morty, his Kitten, his grandson and soulmate was the best fuck, best everything ever, for a thousand years.
His speed was wild and punishing when he finally allowed them both to feel each other fully. Morty's little hole was gripping him, sucking him in, knowing who it belonged to. It didn't take long for either of them to come, painting long strips of white all over Morty's tanned body, but it was fast and brutal, bloody and painful; completely them.
"Y-you did good, Kitten," Rick whispered to the spent, half-passed out boy, gently kissing the top of his blonde head. His Kitten instinctively wrapped his arms around his neck, wanting to stay as close to his grandfather as he could. One of Rick's hands reached to his gun, never parting from it. He was a genius and almost a gun, but he needed something to keep Morty safe if anybody tried to do anything.
"I-I love you, Rick," Miami Morty yawned, burrowing himself in Rick's arms, throwing a leg over his hips. The little Kitten was just as possessive as Rick was.
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friendofthecrows · 11 months
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I've been having a great five minutes thinking of depressing/unfun versions of popular children's games.
Candy Land -> Spinach Basement
Operation -> Post-Op Care
Chutes and Ladders -> OSHA Regulations
Hi Ho! Cherry-O -> Oh No! Spiders
Monopoly -> Investment Real Estate
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tangerinesour · 1 year
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i have. the Worst hangover. so i’m lying in bed still and listening to lily and mike play hi ho cherry-o, while lil explains the rules bc he’s never played before and it’s very 🥺
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goldenguillotines · 2 years
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🗣 Milo + Riaske
Milo.. had ditched his friend again.
It wasn't anything new. They left behind a lot of their friends on their little hangouts. It was nothing personal. Really. A 'Quirk' of theirs. They always were lured in by strangers with names.. personalities.. colors.. they couldn't give a fuck about all that nonsense. They'd be tossed to the side. They could always tell.. the ones eager to rush to their side.. always seemed to be harboring pain of some kind. Loneliness.. A pain they could only temporarily solve. And it would solve their hunger.
Or thats how it used to be.
Even now.. walking away from the private booth in the back.. they were even hungrier.
Every time they had walked away from these encounters. They had just gotten worse.. and worse.. and worse.. and even worse.
They even had to stop themself from nearly sinking their teeth into their own companion. Desires were not as base as one would think.. and Milo had always stressed this to his contractees. But that desire was filtered. Something boiled down. Lack of flavor. But they were desperate. Desperate for something. Anything to curb this raging hunger.
The only taste that they craved.. had been from their friend. That taste so unique to them. That was enough to throw their rationale out the window and blue screen as they wanted them all for themself. Their 'best friend' .. they were disgusting. Haunting them and ruining them. The same thing they had done before. It was only so long before they'd slip through their fingers forever.. wouldn't it? They wanted to respect them. For them as a being.. Not for the urge they had as a Cubus.
It was making their head hurt. They wanted to fucking rip the damn room apart along with all the beings in the damn room.. by now.. Surely his companion had left. Maybe to go sulk about getting his 'friend time' ruined. Hopefully finding someone to hang out with. He wanted to talk about something.. and Milo didn't even give him a chance.
"You |ook |ike you're about ready to bust a gasket cherry boy. Best coo| it or some of these too|s are gonna take it as a cha||enge."
That rough voice hit his ears and they snapped their head up to meet his eyes. The olive was here? They quickly scanned his body.. surely.. there was evidence of blood. Yes. There was... he has tried to wipe it off. Still sunk into that leather jacket of his and smeared across his face. Milo could barely make out the hue this time..
"☆The only one challenging me right now is you.☆"
Riaske stared. Squinting.. Milo was the one person of their group Riaske understood.. and Milo was keenly aware. Two spawns..
One of Lust. One of envy.
"I think you know I'm not.. since we know nothing wou|d be gained. I'm simp|y offering.. some advice."
Milo scoffed.. the younger demon.. offering help?
"☆ What do you possibly think you can help with? ☆"
Silence.. They watch him reach for his glass. Full of straight tequila.. Even thinking about it made Milo cringe. Gross.
"I know I can sme|| jea|ousy... when I sense it... And I think you know where it's stemming from."
"☆....☆"
"Youre going to make it worse. Digging yourse|f deeper in a ho|e |ike this."
"☆Then.. What do you *think* I should do? Act on it?☆"
Milo hissed out. Aggravated at how simply the olive blood had put it..
"Yes. Before you never get the chance again.. before you |ose your chance forever.. and your worry becomes a rea|ity. "
That shot them. Struck them. Hurt.. It fucking hurt. Milo had hardly noticed how Riaske roughly shoved the person in the seat next to them off their barstool.. the sound of glass shattering.. and some aggravated words..
"Cmon. |ets keep chatting Mi|o.. I have a fee|ing.. you want to keep ta|king."
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butterflyrry · 2 years
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I don't think Hamille was a pr , I think she dumped him or smth bcs both anne and gemma unfollowed her when they broke up , I think what makes people think it's Pr bcs he definitely milked the shit out of that Breakup add to that it was quite obvious that she didn't like that at all .
I’m sorry but if you’re using sm follow/unfollows as the barometers for realness then HO would be very real. He’s said time and time again he’s private with his real life. The more we get to know grown up Harry the more we see this- If we see them, then they’re not real. Hamille followed the pr formula too she’s just a more lowkey person than others he’s been attached to. People may want to make them real comparing to O but in reality you can’t. She was the album muse so he could write about whoever he’s still writing about and keeping it private. If you think the voice note means anything well…the voice note was added at then end way after they broke up. The note’s sound was studio quality so she came in to record it. He would never ask an ex to do that who was currently with someone else and he was heartbroken and jealous over. His ego wouldn’t allow that. I do think they were friends who may have hooked up a few times but the rs was full on PR.
I hate the voice note but I love Cherry so, so much. I am thankful to all the stars above that he didn’t try that shit with the director on Harry’s House.
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upstartgeek · 2 years
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polka dot man the kind of mf to cheat at Hi Ho Cherry-O
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jumbojazzcats93 · 20 hours
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if you get this, answer with three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs (if you want to🖤)! anon or not, doesn't matter, let's get to know the person behind the blog✨
pookie 😈
HAHAHAHA Ms. pookie 💋
Okokok so
1. I don't like tea, but I have a really beautiful (imo) tea set from Pier One imports. I originally bought everything, but the teapot, so a few years ago, I scoured the internet and found someone reselling one! I would've gotten it no matter the cost tbh lol
2. My favorite board game is the Hi-Ho Cherry-O board game. Specifically, the look of the 1997 version.
3. I have a collection of sands, shells, and various oceanic items, all in an old applesauce jar together.
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inlovewithlearning · 8 months
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Five Fantastic Board Games for Toddlers (Two Year-Old Tested and Approved!)
I love playing board games with my two-year-old son. It’s a great way to connect and spend quality time, and a fun way for him to learn things like colors, counting, taking turns, and even fine motor skills. Here’s a list of games that are great for toddlers (and older kids too!) – that have been toddler tested and approved! Hi Ho! Cherry-O Hi Ho Cherry-O is simple to play – spin the spinner…
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vexic929 · 8 months
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What was your favorite game to play as a kid? Favorite food? What was your last dream about?
I had several! my favorite games as a kid were this board game called Pretty Pretty Princess and also I really loved Hi-Ho Cherry-O and digitally I loved Barbie Secret Agent and Barbie Fashion Designer; when I got older I used to own this plug-in dating sim type game that you played on your TV with a remote that came with the game except you were like a fashion designer or something? it was really cool I wish I could remember what it was called (and back when TV channels had actual websites for kids I loved to play the Teen Titans fighting game and the Kim Possible platformers)
my go-to food is generally nachos lol I freaking love nachos they're just so versatile you can't really go wrong unless your chips get super soggy or stale
my last dream definitely involved Nightwing and Red Hood but I can't for the life of me remember the details, it was definitely a weird one tho lol
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