Thenamesh propsal AU
Thena needs her caffeine but in this house there is none. As a result she has terrible migraine!
"How is she?"
A loud groan sounded through the whole house in response. Gil winced as he walked in with a bag in hand.
He had completely forgotten that his mom didn't keep any caffeine or alcohol in the house. She wasn't one for it, Makkari simply didn't need any caffeine to be as brimming with energy as she was, and Sersi didn't drink unless it was socially. Kingo wasn't opposed to a coffee here or a beer there, but he considered visiting home like 'being on a cleanse', or whatever.
Thena needed caffeine.
She drank no less than four coffees a day in a regular work week. He was always telling her he was worried about her caffeine intake, but there was no arguing with the stubborn Goddess of War on that one.
It hadn't taken long for the lack of caffeine to cause an irreparable headache which shook her to her core.
Gil walked into the living room, where his very sweet family was being very useless at curing Thena's migraine. His friend - and fiance - was curled up in a ball on the couch, face pinched from the tension within her head. He whispered, "Thena?"
"Gil?" she whimpered back, not even moving at the sound of his voice.
Sersi handed him a cool cloth, freshly soaked and wrung dry, "none of the pain meds Mum has will help this. It's pure caffeine withdrawal."
"Did we try?" Gil couldn't help but ask, not that it didn't irk both his Doctor mother and his bio-chemist sister. He sighed, "sorry, just...I hate to see her like this."
Gil bypassed them, going right over to the ball of Thena and turning her over so he could put the cool cloth on her forehead. "Hey."
"Hey," she whispered back, just barely getting her eyes open to look at him. She looked even paler than normal. "You're back."
"I'm sorry," he whispered, lips pressed to her temple, unable to do much more for her. "I had to go out looking."
"It's okay," Thena turned over slightly with a smile, "Sersi and Makkari have taken wonderful care of me. And your poor mother is trying to find anything that will even simulate caffeine for me."
"Thena!"
"Quiet!" Gil glared towards the door to the living room, where Kingo was striding in without a care in the world. His arms tightened around her, "she's not feeling well, man!"
"Sorry, sorry," he chuckled much too light heartedly for Gil's taste. He swirled his hand in the air, "I made chai!"
Gil glared at his cousin--basically his brother. Chai was a strong enough blend of tea, and it probably would have just a enough caffeine to alleviate some of Thena's symptoms. "You had this the whole time and let her-?!"
"Come on, Gil," Kingo pouted at him, Thena still wrapped protectively in his thick arms. "I forgot I had it, okay? And anyway, I had the seed pods whole--I had to do actual work to make them ready for brewing."
Gil sighed a little more roughly, all but ignoring his loud cousin next to him, "whatever."
"I thought it might help," Kingo leaned blithely into Gil's personal space to get a peek at Thena. "I also suggested yoga to help clear her head, but all she wanted to do was lie around and wait for you."
Gil was already pulling Thena closer so he could carry her to the kitchen, "y'know, dude, I'd appreciate if you didn't do shirtless yoga with my fiance when I'm not around?"
"Who said it was shirtless?"
"I've never seen you do it with a shirt on," Gil shot back without hesitation. Kingo just snickered at his obvious annoyance (dick). Gil stood with Thena in his embrace, "I have something better."
"Something to put me out of my misery?"
"Something like that," he chuckled, kissing Thena's temple again just because he could. She was really funny, even if she didn't think so. "You know this is why I'm always on you about how much coffee you drink."
"Yes, yes," she managed to roll her eyes at him, although even doing that much seemed to reawaken her pain. She grimaced, "how long have you been waiting to bring that up?"
"Until I also had something to help."
"Gil, I--oh."
Ajak made room for them at the kitchen island so Gil could set Thena down in one of the plush bar seats.
"It's okay, mom, I found some," he sighed as he made sure Thena was settled. "Had to go all the way to that organic store where you fill up your own jars."
Damned retiree town and its hipster stores.
Thena forced her eyes open again, "what did you find?"
"Coffee."
Thena perked up like a dog offered a steak after being in the desert.
"I got the lightest roast they had," he held Thena's eyes, waving the jar of fresh grounds in his hand. She watched it, utterly entranced. "Just enough to keep the pain away, okay? This shit was still expensive, even as the cheapest stuff I could find."
Thena let out a faint laugh, in better spirits just at the promise of some relief. "Are you going to ween me off of it with this?"
Gil looked at her again as he set out the coffee grounds and french press he had to buy just to make coffee here. He could just tell her that he told her so and that this was probably for the best, to get her less dependant on caffeine to even function. But he sighed, "gently. I won't let you suffer if I can do anything to help."
Some colour returned to her cheeks, which was honestly more of a relief than anything.
"I'll make you just one cup to start, okay," he continued to speak softly, shaking out just enough grounds and then reaching for the kettle.
"Thank you, Gil."
He looked up, compelled by the gentle, almost musical tone in her voice. Some colour rose in his cheeks as well as he looked back down at his brewing, "anything."
"Hey."
Gil looked up once the grounds were starting to brew. Thena nodded him over to her, and he moved automatically, like a man possessed. Her knees made room for him and he had to stop himself from putting his hand on the other side of them reflexively.
Thena leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips, just close enough to his cheek to be considered not actually 'kissing' him.
He blushed and his all his hair stood on end.
"You're a life saver," she said afterward, forcing a much lighter tone. She tucked some hair behind her ear and moved to watching the coffee brew. "Is it done yet?"
He had to laugh just a little. He gave above her knee - just at the hem of her skirt - a squeeze and moved away again, "will you just try having some patience?"
"You are not the one who has spent all morning with a jackhammer within your skull."
"If you took it even a little easy on the cold brew it probably wouldn't be so bad."
"I knew you were dying to tell me you told me so," Thena rolled her eyes.
Gil smiled; she didn't wince this time. He poured her cup, which really needed more time to brew than it had. Maybe he was just as impatient to cure her as she was. "Just put some shit in it to cover up the taste."
"Gladly," she sighed, although it was Gil who moved toward the fridge for said 'shit'.
They both completely forgot Ajak was still hovering at the edge of the kitchen.
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Is it okay to request you where the reader is a sentient plushie that usually just hangs out with the Narrator in his office?
Narrator With a Reader Who is a Plushie in His Office
Have you heard of rubber duck debugging? Where a programmer will explain a problem with their code to an object in order to solve the problem? That’s what the narrator does to you.
He’ll read his story to you again and again, hoping to work out all the flaws. Of course he believes his writing is already perfect, but there must be a way for him to make it even more so.
He talks to you, debating whether to add another branching path, or to switch up his delivery.
“Should I actually add a third door? The suggestion was a joke the first time I implemented it, but now I can’t help but wonder…”
Or, “I can’t tell whether to keep my voice steady, or let it waver a bit to let Stanley know I’m in on the joke too. Will being deadpan serve my purposes better? Hmm. What do you think?”
You sit there patiently, waiting for the narrator to come to a decision. Your button eyes glint from the fluorescent lights, your body heavy with stuffing. Sometimes he actually needs a verbal response, sometimes it’s better to hold your tongue and let him make up his mind. You’ve hung out with him long enough to be able to anticipate his needs well.
Sometimes, when he’s had a hard day, like when Stanley refuses to listen or throws himself off the staircase multiple times, he clutches you to his chest like a lifeline. No one else is going to see him, so there’s no need to hide his sadness or exhaustion. You try to give him what comfort you can. He’s surprised sometimes, when you hug him back.
The first time you talk to him, he’s startled. When he programmed you into his game, you were just for some extra comfort. He wasn’t expecting you to develop sentience. It’s nice though, to have someone to talk to.
He’s tossing papers left and right, not angry, just frustrated with writer’s block. When one of the papers lands near you, you begin to read without thinking about it. You say, “Hey, this is pretty good. Why’d you throw this one away?” The narrator whips around, clutching his chest. “Good God!”
He stares at you in fear at first, from the slight jumpscare, then in confusion, before settling on suspicion. “Who are you?”
“I’m your plushie. Don’t you remember?” He approaches you cautiously, wondering if his mind has snapped. He picks you up and examines you closely. He can feel your coding underneath your fur. You’re alive, somehow.
Like always, a good friendship with the narrator takes time. He feels embarrassed that he’s vented to and cuddled with something without realizing that you were alive. But you weren’t always this way, he was sure.
(What neither of you realize, is that it’s a velveteen rabbit situation. He loved you so much he accidentally made you real.)
After he discovers you’re sentient, he moves you closer to his computer, for ease of access and additional comfort. Sometimes you flop onto his arm. Whether or not you do this intentionally is never discussed.
The two of you are odd friends, but you make it work.
(warning, long commentary in the tags)
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