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#whichever people are comfortable with! i am cool just say you found me from this (or my other) blb posts
kquil · 1 year
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🧁: cupcake
tell me about yourself, as much or as little as possible and i will ship you with whichever marauder i think you will go well with!
First time requesting anything like this, I’m sorry if it’s not great lol! <3
I’m an introverted little grouch, I stress the “little” in that because I’m, shamefully, 5 feet tall (152 cm, 1.52 m). I much prefer time alone and indoors than outside and socializing. Reading and writing are my main passions. Music is a life stable, a need, if you will. I’m transmasc and use they/he pronouns. I love the rain, the smell of new books, and am a very proud sneakerhead. My style ranges from street wear to dark and chaotic academia.
IM SHIPPING YOU WITH SIRIUS BLACK! HANDS DOWN!
i hope i did you justice here, darling, and respectfully too, please enjoy x
i. he loves you being a little grouch because, in his eyes, you're so adorable doing it. he can't take you seriously because you're so tiny compared to him and he loves teasing you for your reaction. he loves when you roll your eyes at him, he loves it when you flip him off, he loves it when you shove him away when he demands affection.
ii. he wasn't always like that. he used to think you were strange for not liking being around people because he gets so much energy from being around others. but then he sees you have a record player with piles and piles and piles of vinyls and he wouldn't stop bugging you until you agreed to let him listen to them ALL
iii. you were proud of your collection and reluctantly obliged as long as he agreed that it would just be him and you. you liked your space after all. it was that afternoon when sirius realised that you were given your own room in respect of your identity so it was easier to listen to the music without someone rudely interrupting the sound. that was also the first time sirius was introduced to diverse gender identities and the only thing he had to say was, "that's cool, respectable," he admired you for being brave enough to be your real self.
iv. it eventually became a regular thing, where sirius would spend an evening with you to listen to vinyls. and, over time, you grew a friendship born through music. you showed him all your favourite vinyls and pointed out all your favourite songs whenever they came on and sirius appreciated how generous you were with your things.
v. you were actually so generous that after you came back from christmas holidays, you introduced him to a muggle device that made music portable with headphones and a small cassette player. the two of you just got closer and closer until sirius tried to kiss you when you two found yourselves closer than usual with only mutual love and comfort in the air.
vi. you didn't let him kiss you, however. "are you okay with someone like me?", you asked, insecure about how he would feel about your identity, "what do you mean someone like you? i wouldn't try to kiss you if i didn't already like you," he said it like it was the most obvious thing, which made your heart pound. never before had you been so thankful for sirius's blunt way of speaking.
vii. eventually sirius moved from exploring your viynls to exploring your endless notebooks that were filled of written stories by you. you caught him reading a story in your bed once and pounced on him to give it back but he insisted on it being really good and wanting to find out how it ends. you put your foot down until he kept sighing and whining and pouting and fluttering his lashes at you in a silent plea to let him continue reading your stories. eventually you relented and allowed him full access to your written stories. he later brags about them to remus, who got curious and, before you knew it, sirius was introducing you to remus and you found a new friend.
viii. you and remus shared a love for books, dark academia aesthetic and the beauty of rain and spent a lot of time together, although it was mainly spent just reading in silence or writing/studying in silence. nevertheless, sirius still got jealous and wouldn't stop clinging to you until you and remus relented. he looked proud and victorious but you and remus only shook your heads at him.
ix. sirius does get quite insecure about you two being too different. he's a naturally loud, flamboyant and social person, which is so opposite to you. it scares him that he may accidentally push you away simply by being him. for a while, he distanced himself from you. there was definitely hurt feelings on both ends but remus forced you both to open up and sirius found that he had been worried for nothing. you of all people knew the importance of staying true to yourself and that love isn't that weak in the face of superficial differences. deep down, where it mattered most, the two of you loved each other unconditionally and that was what made your love strong
x. honourable mention, i also, lowkey, ship you with regulus black. i know they're brothers but just think of this separately, please! regulus would find your unapologetic truth to yourself admirable. it gives him strength just to look at you. not only that but you introduce him to so many amazing things like muggle music and books and stories. he could read your stories and listen to your favourite music all day long, they were all the things that reminded him of you, after all, and he loves you for you and for making him realise that there was boundless strength hidden in everybody, including himself.
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taketheringtolohac · 3 years
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hello this is very silly but. I am a certified blaseball baby (s19) and sometimes I feel like I missed out on the "golden" era of blaseball where so many inside jokes and wonderful things were made. do you have any advice on how to get over this lol and how to engage in the community in a meaningful way? thanks <3
This has been sitting in my ask box for a while now but i think i've finally collected my thoughts on it! Thank you for the ask, it isn’t silly at ALL, i think about this question a lot as someone who got into blaseball in season 2 and has kept up rigorously since, and i have been trying to find an adequate way to answer this- so here we go!
I think the first thing to really say is that a lot of feeling excluded from things... isn't your fault. Blaseball requires a lot of in knowledge! and when you're getting into it it really just seems like EVERYONE is in the know and somehow you are the only person who isnt, and thats because of the MASSIVE learning curve that blaseball has because of all the sun rules and new mechanics and the era of expansion being DESIGNED to overwhelm you. And people tend to forget that once they're In the Know, and a lot of people (myself included) really get caught up in remembering these AWESOME moments that happened in the early game, but the thing is it's not YOUR responsibility to make YOURSELF feel included in the community- that's people who already know what the hell is going on's job!
But the thing is, new in jokes are being made LITERALLY daily. The mints just made ANOTHER one today- these things happen all the time and you never know which ones will be super important in the future! Like gurgies, while out of fashion and common use now, was originally just a stupid mints way of saying blooddrain gurgled but we freaking said it so much and said it EVERYWHERE and people REMEMBERED it for being cursed and now thats something people say across the league. Here's the thing, it may sound really unhelpful but also- so what? Why does it MATTER that you weren't here when "wimdy" was coined? You're here now! You are witnessing blaseball happening and blaseball history being made by the second! I know just telling people dont get caught up in what you missed is really hard and doesn't really work, but i think trying to embrace that mindset will do wonders for you not just in trying to "get over" (which i dont really like as an expression here, i dont think this is something you really just get over you kind of have to keep confronting it! i do it too! a lot!) but also just for interacting with blaseball as a whole.
There is SO much that happens in blaseball and you will NEVER be able to catch all of it- thats part of the beauty and horror of it- but really learning to accept that you WON'T be able to catch all of it is part of a healthy relationship with blaseball! You don't know everything that's happening with every team at every moment- and then something will totally blindside you when something WILD happens to them and god. To me that is part of what blaseball is about. I've been here for 22 seasons and I STILL don't know anything about some of the original 20 teams. And that's ok! New things are always happening! Players are always dying! Players are always getting shadowed! They're feedbacking, reverbing, eating peanuts, getting shelled- they're part of blaseball of course things are happening and really trying to embrace that chaos will take you a long way.
Another thing to keep reminding yourself other than that things are literally always being made is that you yes YOU have an impact on the league. Whether it's just voting or betting (do people still bet? surely some do) or idol switching or even just watching the game, YOU are making some kind of impact. That's part of the narrative design of blaseball, it's quite literally designed so that fans can be directly involved in the splort. Even if you didn't MAKE the lore for a character, you can still talk about them! Participate in conversations and make jokes and memes about them! What you VOTE for matters, and you don't have to make the most money (lord knows i gave up on that seasons ago I'm just trying to make a decent amount now) but all it takes is a single ticket to get that blessing or that will your team (or just you lmao) wants. You can unredact things in the library! You can give peanuts to dead players you like! And you also can just MAKE shit up all the time. Whatever you say about anyone can be true to you. I know I'm not the only person who has wildly different hcs for players on teams that aren't even my own, let alone the ways that my hcs differ from the common interpretation of my own team's players. Or even the ways that my hcs DO converge or even just build off team ones, or are directly adjacent to them it's all equally valid! Today I said "Leo Baron wears heart shaped sunglasses" and people went wild over it and started just talking about it. You have that power with everything in blaseball! You control the buttons you press, and you impact the league! And you impact other people on your team!
The last thing that I really do recommend doing is just... hanging out with your team on discord, if that's your jam. You don't have to talk much! For what it's worth though, I think all teams are really receptive to new players and captains/representatives are there to try and make you feel welcome, as far as i know. Even if you're not a "new" player anymore you're still newer, and that still counts! If you're having trouble finding a way to start participating in conversations, I recommend just watching a game with your team. It's REALLY easy to talk about something when you're all seeing the same thing, and a lot of the things you say are pretty much prompted by the game as well! You know, like "come on Twooney hit a double" or "Marco please steal its the bottom of the 9th and we want to win-" but then in watching matches you also get to learn chants and see how people interact with each other. This is how I integrated myself into mints culture and became comfortable talking in chat which I know isn't for everyone but hey! It's what I got! But when you hang out with your team and get to know people you start to actually feel like part of a community, and when you feel like you're part of something bigger than yourself it eases the burden of feeling like you missed something because you're living in the moment! EVERY game has the potential to be EARTH SHATTERING for a team in blaseball, ANY game can be the next "most iconic" game for your team. Beating yourself up over not getting into the game earlier isn't gonna help, and cool shit is happening daily! That's what's so fucking cool about it!
I really hope this helps you, anon, and anyone else feeling this way. blaseball is for everyone! It sucks that people aren't being more mindful of what they say and how they interact with newer fans! In all honesty, I don't really even know how to answer this because it's such a complicated question- but the thing is all the older fans should be thinking about this question because they are part of a community composed of many people joining at different times with different levels of knowledge about the game itself, baseball, communities and really everything. Just remember that YOU are in charge of your own blaseball experience and things are ALWAYS being created! Maybe even YOU could create the next big blaseball thing- after all, almost everything in blaseball was created by an ordinary fan who was just saying something that came to mind.
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physicalturian · 3 years
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[G] Gentle summer - Rengoku Kyojuro x GN!Reader - Part 1
[Contains spoilers from the movie, and the manga] [No pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 8533 Archive of our own
Warnings : Blood / Injuries / PTSD
Summary : After the event of the Infinity Train, the Fire Pillar is staying at the Butterfly Mansion where you take care of him. The path to recovery is long, which leaves time for some feelings to develop between you and Rengoku. Proper courtship is what the swordsman has in mind once he set it on you.
A slow burn of two people letting time do its work the more they spend it together.
If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask
--
It was one of those rare quiet nights at the mansion. Crickets in the summer night could be heard in the well-tended gardens along the sound of the water in the ponds. The cool air the late night provided felt refreshing, it gave some respite before the summer heat returned in the early morning, but it was appreciated, nonetheless. It was relaxing, so relaxing it could almost make one forget of the danger looming over them. Big plans were being made, new recruits were being trained and the ones used to it all… well, they were resting the best they could before the big fight.
Among those resting were a few Pillars, those who weren’t at the mansion were doing their best to get out of their head by doing some missions. Giyuu was one of the few who stayed, he wasn’t so lucky as to be alone in his room; The new recruits, who counted among their ranks a demon girl, were sleeping by his side, snoring and taking too much space on the futons spread on the tatami mat. As I stood by the door, I noticed the light was still on and tip-toed inside the room to turn it off, avoiding luring the mosquitoes in.
I stopped dead in my tracks when the floor creaked, I waited a moment before going back to the door, hoping I hadn’t woken anyone up. Once out, I slid it closed gently and padded away to my room, knowing full well I wasn’t going to be able to sleep with all the stress I was feeling. On my way there, I noticed the flickering light coming from the Fire Pillar’s room. The shadow of the lantern was projected on the shoji doors, I waited a moment to see if there was any movement but when I didn’t see anything, I opened the door. Not wanting for him to wake up during the night to turn it off, I stepped inside carefully but stopped when I couldn’t see him around.
For a moment, my heart jumped out of my chest as I considered the possibility of him having been kidnapped by the demon who wasn’t able to finish him. Maybe he even left to the forest to fight with him, he would do that to avoid getting us in danger. No, no… No demon ever found the mansion, I don’t see why they would find it now.
Blowing the light out, I found that the moon’s glow was enough to brighten the room with a fair white color all over the room. As I stepped towards the door that led to some green patches outside, I paused when I noticed a form leaning on one of the wooden posts outside. Approaching soundlessly, I quickly recognized Rengoku’s haori on the ground. The man was sitting on the wooden veranda outside, his head was leaning on the post, his arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t wearing his Pillar outfit but instead wore a lighter traditional kimono, that suited him perfectly.
“Rengoku?” I called his name softly, hoping to get his attention without surprising him too much. Perhaps it was too tender as the man did not respond. With just as much care, I stepped closer and saw his relaxed face, deep in slumber, the usual determined frown on his face gone from how peaceful he was right now. Still, it mustn’t be comfortable to be sleeping here, I thought as I stepped in front of the man and considered my choices.
Mirroring him some way, I crossed my arms over my chest and took a good look at him as I considered what to do. While doing so, I also enjoyed his features. The fresh scar on his forehead was never hidden by his hair, seeing as he styled it in a mane-like fashion. I’d still feel a pinch in my heart when I’d see it, remembering how the three young recruits sent their crow to get the medical people on the field.
Both of them were crying, thinking the man was gone, I had to keep my composure as I checked his pulse, desperately wishing he was still alive.
I held my breath, then felt the slight pulse. The man was a strong-willed fighter, but as I took care of his wounds the best I could, I started to believe strong-will was not going to get him through it. When my crew and I gave him the first care treatment, we brought him back to the mansion where he was passed out for a few days. When he finally woke up, I was changing the flowers on his bedside. As I pulled them out of the vase, a strong hand gripped my wrist. I gasped loudly at the touch, then at the realization he had woken up.
“Rengoku, you’ve awakened. I’ll bring you-“ “You’re the one, right?” He uttered, his mouth still not used to speaking just yet. Giving him a confused expression, he chuckled lightly, then painfully before getting his composure back. “The one who’s been singing to me, so many times-“ “I do apologize, I was not aware you could hear me. I hope I haven’t troubled your sleep much, and that you are rested,” I bowed, feeling my cheeks burn from embarrassment. Yet, I had to keep some professionalism with the Pillar in front of me, for his rank was higher than mine.
“Your voice, it’s soothing, can you keep doing it? Singing, I mean! I’m awake now, but I really enjoyed hearing you,”
Chuckling nervously, I placed the fresh flowers in the vase once the man had let go of my hand and threw the dried ones in the bin. “I don’t think so, it’s not professional, disturbing you wouldn’t-“ “It helped me, I found myself sleeping more peacefully upon hearing you delicate singing. Without it, I wouldn’t be as well-rested,” His voice was a lot louder now. He must have strained himself with the energy he put in his whole attitude since he leaned forward a bit, a hand on his stomach.
“Alright, I’ll keep singing, only if you stop moving. You haven’t healed fully yet Rengoku. You should rest some more,” I told him softly. I pried his hand away from his stomach and asked if I could check, he allowed me. “Maybe quiet down, even for a moment, you’ve only been asleep for a few days, your wounds haven’t healed enough for you to move that much,” When he didn’t say anything, I looked up at his face and saw him with his eyes closed and mouth slightly open. He was focusing his breath on the healing, which I would not allow.
Calling his name, I tried to get his attention, but he ignored me. Now, I might be a healer, but I knew how to deal damage and how to deal with strong people. With a hand on his stomach and the other on his shoulder, I put some pressure on the latter to make him lean back. His eyes opened wide as a breathless gasp left his mouth in surprise. “Don’t start this. I am asking you to simply, stay in bed and do nothing, is that too much to ask?” I asked him as I let go of his form.
His beautiful wide eyes stared right at mine, unrelenting, with an expression I couldn’t decipher. As uneasy as it made me feel, I matched his stare and did not move. That is until he smiled, “Only if I am allowed to have some food, I am starving! Food would help with my healing, right?” He added my name at the end of his question, surprising me. The amount of time I interacted with the Pillars could not be counted on two hands, I remembered them, their wounds, their fragile state when in their weakest state. I saw them train, I myself was trained by one of them. And yet, I was surprised when the Fire Pillar remembered my name.
I didn’t let it slip, that I liked it, that it caught me off guard, nor that he had the gentlest tone when saying my name, a tone that made my heart skip even for just a second. “I will bring you food. I’m only asking of you to stay put, can you do that?” Nodding, he put his hands a bit higher from his stomach and stood still, his eyes looking at the ceiling. “For you, I will, I won’t move an inch-“ “Not for me, for you. For your health, Rengoku.” I huffed while standing up, a hand on the mattress. As I turned around, a hand quickly grabbed mine, just like before. I didn’t pull back, fearing the man would lean in with.
Turning to face him, I quirked a brow and asked if he needed anything else, “Kyojuro, call me Kyojuro, you have taken care of me enough time to be familiar with me. I owe you my life,” Chuckling lightly, I unhooked his hand from my wrist and smiled, “It’s my job, I will try my best to call you by your name then, Kyojuro.” With a nod, I left the room to get his meal that the younger recruits were probably already making. They would always sit by the door of the wounded, waiting for anything to happen, their ears ready for any sudden sound.
My suspicions were correct when I found the tray right in front of the door, they must have left the moment they realized he had awakened. Smiling to myself, I grabbed the tray and entered Kyojuro’s room once more. “It seems we-“ I hurriedly put the tray on the bed next to Kyojuro’s when I saw he wasn’t in his bed. “Rengoku! Where did you go,” I mumbled the last part as I slipped on my geta and trotted to the veranda. I was quick to let a sigh of relief when I saw the man in question, practicing with his sword, the sun illuminating his gorgeous mane.
As beautiful as he may be under the sun, the jinbei he was wearing to sleep had a growing red stain on his stomach. His wound had reopened, and he did not seem to mind one bit. I did. “Rengoku, would you please come back to bed?” I asked with some softness. When he did not hear me, or ignored me, whichever it was I did not care, I called his name more sternly. His stances and actions got a bit more intense in his practice.
Taking a deep breath, I calmed my breathing and sped to his side, hearing his surprise. Not wasting time, I hit one of the spots on his hand to make it go numb as he dropped his sword. I took it in my hand, stepping away from him quickly to avoid him taking it back. He looked at me in defeat, as defeated as a man like him could look like. The Fire Pillar looked at me in awe, then smiled. “Well done! A good practice, perhaps we could train more together-“ Putting the sword delicately on the ground, I approached him and pressed on his stomach wound, making him groan in pain as he bent forward, pushing my hand away.
“You are in no condition to fight, train or move. Go back to bed, or I will have to use force to get you there myself,” The look he gave me broke my heart, that was defeat. That was a man so out of his comfort zone, he did not know how to cope. Known for always standing, always be the last one with will, ready to fight and to get everyone’s hopes up. He closed his eyes a moment, then gave me a stern nod. “Very well,”
It needed convincing to let me help him to the bed, where I had to change his clothes and bandages, but he let me. Perhaps I had gotten to him, perhaps he was now fully aware of how dire his situation was. “If you stay put, you’ll be back on your feet in no time,” I told him while finishing wrapping the bandages around his stomach. I hummed to myself, trying to convince myself too. I had no idea how long it would take, because I knew he would not listen. Yet, I hoped it was enough to get him back to his hype.
“Will you sing for me?” The ginger asked once I handed him a fresh attire on my way to get the tray from the other bed. Stopping in my tracks, I returned slowly to his bedside. “You should eat first, slowly, please,” I told him with a short smile. Once he had dressed up, albeit groaning upon moving to slide his arms inside the sleeves, I put the tray on his lap and gestured for him to go on.
The peace of the moment did not last when he started eating like he hadn’t seen a meal in years, portions after portions, too big to fit his mouth, I had to stop him and take the chopsticks from his hand. “Are you purposedly doing the opposite of what I tell you, Kyojuro?” I asked, slightly annoyed.
“Those are small! I am hungry, can I have my chopsticks back, songbird?” He asked, his hand extended. I had to hold back from choking when I heard the nickname he had given me but decided against saying anything. It had some charm, and if I said anything he might stop, I liked it for now…
Instead, I sighed. “This,” I scooped some food with the chopsticks and showed him, “Is an adequate portion, you have to be careful-“ I stared at him in awe when he leaned in and ate the rice from the chopsticks I was holding. Once he was done, he looked back at me with smile, “More,” was all he said.
I blinked a few times, considering telling him off but I felt like he would still gobble down the whole meal if I didn’t do it myself. With a roll of my eyes, I took more rice and placed my hand under it as I brought it to his mouth, “You are a chaotic man,” there was a huge grin on his lips as he ate, speaking before he even finished, “Delicious! More!”
There was no helping the smile that drew itself on my face, “I’ll tell them you enjoyed it,” I huffed, feeding him some more. Every bite he would tell me to give him more, as annoying as it was, it was also growing on me in an endearing way. He did ask for another portion, which surprised me considering how much he ate but I complied. Once we were done, he seemed to be a lot calmer than he had been since he had woken up. His mind was somewhere else as he stared at his battered hands, there were a few cuts on it from his fight and I was afraid he was thinking about it too much.
“Now that your stomach is full, perhaps you should rest, Kyojuro,” Fluffing his pillow, I asked him to lay down, but he wasn’t in the mood for that. No, he was still staring at his hands, lost in thoughts. I put the tray outside and came back, placing my hands delicately on his. It seemed efficient enough since he looked up with wide eyes, a look that pierced a soul for simply coming from him. “I still have a lot of energy, would you mind staying?” He asked, his tone loud, his hands gripping mine. I hid the surprise of his actions and laughed lightly.
“I have things to do, it is still the morning, I will come back by noon-“ “What do you have to do? Can you do it here?” He apologized just as fast as he interrupted me, then he laid down with a groan. “I should rest, please wake me up when you come back,”
Finding his attitude odd, I stayed between the bed and door, half-way to each. Could he be sleeping badly? Could he be in the need of company? I looked around and pondered a moment. All I had to do was train and take a look at everyone in the mansion. The latter having been done for the morning, I only had one thing to do for now. So, I went back to the ginger. “I have to train, while you are not fit to do so yourself, perhaps would you like to help me out? Give some pointers of things I could improve? Would that suit you?”
The speed at which he sat up mad me rush to his side as I held onto his shoulders and told him to calm his enthusiasm. He only smiled in return, telling me he could not contain the joy it brought him to leave the bed. “You have only been awake for so little time, you are quite easily bored,” I stated as I told him to wrap an arm around my shoulders so that I could help him move to the veranda, making sure he took a pillow with him. “I’ll let you sit outside, but you don’t move from there, understood?” He nodded firmly in response as he dropped the pillow on the ground. I helped him sit down with care, then, albeit hesitantly, brought him his sword from the ground and set it beside him.
“Don’t move,” I extended my hand as a gesture to keep him on the spot, “You stay put, and you don’t practice, you stay right- there,” I continued while stepping back. When he laughed oh so charmingly, I almost tripped on the tatami. “I’m not moving!” It’s not without a side-glance that I left the room, only to come back just as fast, changing from a heavy kimono to a lighter jinbei. It wasn’t light-colored like the one we let the wounded wear, it was dark blue and nice to wear.
As I positioned in front of the veranda, in the grass, I couldn’t help but glance at the pair of eyes watching me. “I don’t usually train in front of others, it’s strange,” I chuckled, maybe more self-conscious than I thought I’d be. This was not the time to feel as such, so I reprimanded myself internally and got myself together.
“Don’t mind me! I love sword training; I won’t bother you!” He said loud enough for me to hear, perhaps even to become deaf if I was close enough. Nodding, I started my usual training, feeling very aware of the intense stare of the man. He wasn’t looking as carefree as before, he was observing, gauging all my movements, the way I held my sword, the way I positioned my feet, each of my slashes. A knot formed in my throat, a need to prove myself arose. This was a Pillar, after all.
Just as he said, I ignored his presence the best I could. It was hard to not glance at him every time I felt like I messed up, when I would peek, he would be looking at me intently. His gaze would stay on my mind as I focused back on my training, I was taking a liking to it. As much as it pressured me some way, unvoluntary to him, I found his face too beautiful to feel fear from the intensity of his look.
While thinking of him, and my movements, I trained until noon. Not a word was being exchanged between us, but I was glad it kept him from moving. I could have gone on and on once I was in the proper headspace and I was able to tune out the Fire Pillar’s strong presence, that was until Naho came in and tugged my sleeve, asking me to lean in. Crouching to her height, I listened carefully then let her go.
“I have tasks that need my attention, I will have to leave you-“ I stammered at the end when I saw the look of awe in Rengoku’s eyes, it elated a nervous laugh from my part as I leaned in to help his arm around my shoulders. Once he was stable, he looked at me with a big smile, “I’ve never seen such sword style, it’s so beautiful! I can see the way your heart is set ablaze once you are focused properly, you enjoy fighting and it shows,” He said it with such astonishment and appreciation that it made heat rush to my face, I only mumbled a thank you in response.
“Would you mind bringing me to my room? Sickbay is uneventful, if I get to my room perhaps one of the recruits will come barging in and bring entertainment with them!” Staying in the infirmary would be better for him, but I knew that every passing second he was focused on his breathing to make the healing process faster, tiring himself on the way. Giving him a curt nod, I said, “Very well, this means I’ll have to come visit you more. The three girls are afraid to go in the Pillars’ wing and won’t be able to watch over you, make it easier for both of us and be good, Kyojuro.” I paused before saying his name, not yet used to it.
He laughed loudly in response, only to grunt in pain quickly after, “That hurt- you made me laugh too hard,” The man seemed out of breath, which wasn’t reassuring for the little he had moved but we were closing in on his room. It wasn’t too far from the infirmary and also had a view on the garden that surrounded the mansion. “It was not in my plan to make you laugh; may I ask what brought that fit of laughter?” I was curious, I’ll admit.
“You said it as if it was a pain to have you visit more often, but I find your company relaxing. I will gladly appreciate each second of your presence by my side,” Upon hearing his words, I choked on my saliva but hid it behind a clearing of my throat as I looked to the side, a neutral expression on my face. “Sleep and you’ll find me by your side a lot sooner than expected, does it sound fair to you?” I asked as I slid the door open and helped him inside, asking him to stand still, wordlessly. “The excitement of seeing you again will keep me restless!” He said while I laid his futon on the ground.
“You have two choices then, you sleep on your own accord or I find that one spot in your neck to make you pass out. Which would it be?” He blinked in response, laughing breathlessly as he ushered to the futon, leaning on me as I set him down. “I will try to sleep, if you promise to sing for me when you come back,”
Rolling my eyes in response, I agreed. “I will see you in a few hours, rest well. And stop the focused breathing, you’ll only get tired more,” Rengoku’s eyes widened, as if surprised by my guess. The man thought himself slick enough to not get caught being sneaky, if sneaky was the adequate word. He was putting a lot of effort in his healing, but also slowing it down since his body was too tired, which rendered it all in vain. He nodded, a serene expression on his face while a small smile displayed on his lips. “Sleep it is, wake me up once you are back,” Another curt nod was what I gave him before departing.
For some reason, as I checked up on the patients in the medical wing, my mind kept wandering off. There was this feeling inside my chest that I could only describe as excitement at the thought of seeing the Fire Pillar again. His aura was so welcoming and warm, one could only feel drawn to it, to him, to his strong-willed attitude, his delightful albeit loud laugh and his oh so bright smile. As I was finishing up my tour, I had time to dwell in my thoughts no more when the young recruit in front of me tried to get out of bed.
“Tanjirou, you are to stay in bed until tomorrow. Should I call Aoi so that she keeps you bound to bed?” I knew the younger healer had some affection to spare for the newest slayer, I was not yet sure if he felt the same way, but he was well-enough aware that she was strong enough to keep him unmoving until the proper time. Her goal was to see all the injured slayers back on their feet, and while she wouldn’t admit it, she made it her top priority when Tanjirou was part of those injured people. “I’m fine! Look, I can move, I have to train! Being bed ridden is not enough of an impairment that it’d stop me from getting better, I have to-“ “If you leave this bed I won’t tell you what I know about a certain Pillar,” I trailed off, holding back the mischievous smile from my lips.
The brunette stopped everything and looked at me with wide-eyes, his scarred hands gripping mine, “Where is Rengoku! How- can I see him? His wounds, are they-“ “Let’s take a breath first, hm? He is awake-“
“I have to see him! I need to see him, please bring me to his room nurse-“ I made an exhausted face, “I’m not a nurse. The closest you’ll get to nurses would be Naho, Kiyu and Sumi, also Aoi but she is a strong fighter. I am here to treat your wounds, that is it.” He quickly apologized then fell silent. His state was not as bad as Rengoku’s, physically, but seeing the Pillar almost die in front of his eyes had an effect on the young man that was clearly visible if you paid enough attention. “He is bored and bed-ridden, but…” A glint of hope lit up in the young slayer’s eyes. “He wishes some company, if you promise to let me help you to his room, and to stay put once there, I am willing to bring you there. Only if you promise those things, is that clear?”
Nodding vigorously, he threw his legs to the side of the bed and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I quickly realized he was in a better shape that I thought, for he did not need to lean on me much. On our way out I grabbed the crutches one of the girls had left and made our way to Kyojuro’s room. “Kyojuro, can I come in?” I called out once we arrived at his door.
“Yes you may!” So he is awake… does fatigue mean nothing to him? “I’ve been thinking, perhaps we could-“ He stopped mid-sentence when he saw Tanjirou by my side. I was also caught off guard when I saw the ginger kneeling on his heels, waiting expectantly while facing the door in which I stepped in. “Young Tanjirou! A pleasant surprise indeed, it is great to see that you are well-“ once more he could not finish his sentence as the brunette threw himself at him and hugged him tight. A loud huff escaped the ginger’s lips, but he hugged back, for a second I wondered how it’d feel to be wrapped around his inviting arms, but it was only a mere moment before I rushed to their collapsed form on the tatami.
“Tanjirou, Kyojuro is in no shape to get tackled yet. Would you mind getting off of him?” I tried to pry him away from the Pillar, but he was holding tight.
“It’s alright! It is a very welcomed hug! Would you like to join in, songbird?” My heart skipped a beat once again when the nickname rolled of his tongue after his invitation. It brought a smile to my face, but I only shook my head in response, “You are both too brute, I’ll wait until you’re done worsening your state, then I’ll step in,” I joked, making the Pillar laugh loudly. For some reason, it brought great pride in my heart to have made him laugh as such.
After a few minutes, Tanjirou moved away from the Fire Pillar, his eyes red and his cheeks stained with tears. Rengoku was in a better state, but if you paid closer attention, his eyes were watery from tears threatening to fall. I let them talk a while, when a few hours passed and Tanjirou’s eyelids were drooping, I interrupted them, “I believe it is enough for today, wouldn’t you agree?” I asked both men, but only one answered, the other one was kneeling next to him, sniffling. “The young man needs some rest; It was quite the adventure to see me it seems!” “I’ll bring him back to his room-“
“I’ll do it!” Aoi suddenly entered the room, a frown on her face. “He shouldn’t have left the bed in the first place, but you seem to be bending the rules a lot today,” She threw me a glare that quickly softened when she looked at Kyojuro then at me. A smug smile followed, “The things we do for lo-“ “And now you leave, I’ll see you at dinner. Refrain from bothering me any more than necessary, understood?”
With the same smile, she gave me a thumbs up, “Oh I understood very clearly, very very clearly. No interruption, no, none!” She then ushered away, Tanjirou at her side as she berated him lovingly on her way out. Once they were gone, I sighed.
“How is your wound?” I asked the Pillar as I knelt beside him, it was exhausting how prone he was to do exactly the opposite of what I would tell him. And yet, he was still a real sunshine to be with. “You are very worried, why is that? It’ll heal, it has not reopened, I am fine.” He said, lifting the shirt to show the wrappings still intact.
It’s with a deep breath that I explained one of the reasons I needed him in good health, “You are very valuable, and even if Master Ubuyashiki said he did not want you to fight you’d join fight anyway. The same fight that is in preparation, the one you’ll have to be ready for. I want you to be able to fight at the best of your abilities, because I trust you are powerful enough to tip the scale in our favor. So, make it easy for me, for both of us... I do not wish to be the reason you lose your life during the fight just because I did not treat you well enough, please…”
There was a short silence, sincerity was the best way to go with a man like him. He wanted that, he needed truths, not matter how it went, so I gave it to him. I was expecting him to be stubborn and tell me that he was fine, but he surprised me instead, “I will do my best to ease the burden of treating me!” “You’re not a burden- I did not mean it as such, I meant-“
“I am joking! I will stay put. Would you mind staying a bit longer? Having some company keeps me in check, it stops me from needing to do something to distract me from my thoughts,”
It caught me off guard, how blunt it was. I could have guessed something was troubling his mind, a lot could be doing so, but admitting he did not want to be alone… That was surprising, I could only accept. “I do owe you a song, do I not?” A huge smile made its way on his lips, it made my cheeks heat up from the undivided attention he now brought to me. I cleared my throat, when I was about to start he leaned in and held the side of my face, his thumb brushing over my right cheek. “You are embarrassed! Don’t be, I genuinely enjoy your voice, please don’t feel shy,”
There was no way I could tell him it did not help now that he had touched me, and that I felt my whole body set aflame. Instead, I moved his hand from my cheek and held it in mine, then started singing one of the many songs I was taught as a child. It always threw me back to my childhood, a wave of nostalgia hitting me. I closed my eyes, picturing old memories from when I was in my childhood home, running around with the other kids, summers, such as this one, spent in the fields, catching beetles. Helping my dad bring back wood to the house, it all came back to me.
Slowly, the song ended, I opened my eyes again and, in front of me, Kyojuro had tears rolling slowly down his face. “I’m sorry, did that song bring bad memories?”
“It was beautiful, it made me think of my little brother. I often helped him train with a wooden sword, before I became a Pillar. I miss him dearly, but plan on visiting my father’s house once this is over, maybe show him my breathing technique.” He paused, then smiled kindly, “You have a delicate voice, it felt like you were telling a story with such beautiful words. Would you care to sing another one?” A knot formed in my throat at the compliment he directed at me, not hearing his request at first. There was a delay in my response, but I nodded.
I patted his futon, “I’ll sing as many songs as you need until you fall asleep, I know you haven’t slept since I left,” “I don’t want to miss any of them!” I chuckled at his enthusiasm and went to grab a pillow from the closet to get more comfortable. “That is a problem, you are keen on not sleeping. I will not ask the reason why, but is there any way to convince you to sleep?”
The soft chuckle that left his lips made me uneasy, I saw the way his eyes looked askance as he slowly laid back on the futon. “Awful dreams plague my mind, it makes me restless, I found some respite when hearing your voice in my dreams… But it seems it’s not enough to keep them at bay,” He paused and huffed a laugh, “It is nothing I can’t get through, do not worry-“ “I’ll stay by your side until you’re asleep then, I’ll make sure to come check up on you throughout the night if you wish.”
His eyes widened, I caught myself off guard too. I should leave him; it was not a requirement to make sure he slept like a baby. It was not a requirement to care that much, but I felt a pull. Like planets around the sun, I felt right, it felt reassuring. “There is no need! I could never ask this much of you, I will be fine.”
I huffed and gesture for him to wait as I left the room, to only come back a few minutes after with trays of food. “Let us say, it is like I’m staying over for the night. Like when we were children, staying at a friend’s house,” Putting the trays next to Rengoku’s futon, I went to the cabinet and pulled out the other futon that was tucked away, and the small tables to keep the tray at a proper height. “Sumi will bring us tea, and you,” I placed his tray on the table next to him, “Will eat slowly, or I will make sure you don’t fight at all, understood?”
Relief flooded my body when he laughed loudly, nodding as he sat up. “Promised! Although, it would mean you would take care of me longer, I would not be against it,” My breath hitched in my throat, I looked at him without speaking. Then he let out a breathless laugh, “You are getting very playful, but your determination could not withstand being bed-ridden longer than necessary,” I started, opening the shoji-doors to take the teapot from Sumi’s hands, “You yearn for a fight, you would never let me worsen your state,” I said lightly as I knelt by my small table and poured tea inside Kyojuro’s cup.
“I yearn for something, someone, worth defending, protecting. I do not enjoy fighting aimlessly, I fight to protect the innocents and the ones who make my heart burn with passion,” He stared right at me as he said so, I felt how strongly he meant those words he had spoken. The need to apologize for assuming he was but a hot-blooded fighter was too strong, so I did. I apologized to him. “Do not, do not! It’s alright, I know a few Pillars who enjoy a good fight. If they ever ask to fight me, I will gladly accept, it is always a good practice,” He added, grinning as he brought a good portion of food with his chopsticks.
Feeling the need to lighten the mood, I ate a bit and told him, “Naho told me you enjoyed sweet potatoes, she is going to make some tomorrow, that ought to brighten your spirit-“ “Absolutely! Will you eat with me?” Looking up, I quirked a brow and smiled softly, about to explain, “I usually eat with-“ “Until I get back on my feet! After that, I will let you go back to Naho, Sumi and Kiyo. It would be an honor to have you eat with me while I get back to health!” He cut me off.
Closing my mouth, I weighed his words- how did he know I usually ate with them? “I am surprised you know of my evening routine, should I be worried of the extra pair of eyes watching my every movement?” It was a first, to see his face turn red in embarrassment. I had said so playfully, but it seems it made him a lot more bashful. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable! I see you around the mansion, often around the same time in the evening you eat with them, that is all! I may have asked them to tell me when you are free, too. To no avail, they are silent as a tomb regarding your person,”
Sipping from my cup, I was now the one embarrassed as I asked, “Why would you want to know when I am free? I do not bite, you can ask me. Since Tengen is very curious, I told them to not tell a soul anything about me, that is all,”
Instead of replying, he shoved as much food in his mouth, before pointing at it and making me understand he couldn’t speak if it’s full. “I did tell you to eat small portions, Kyojuro. You’re going to-“ Choke is how I finished the sentence as I handed him his cup to help him swallow what he was choking on.
Once he was good, he cleared his throat and stared at me, a big smile on his face. The pink dust on his cheek had not left, “You are very busy, and resolved!” I laughed at that, nodding. “It shows when you train, even under the rain! You are not thrown off by such things, you are tenacious and strong. I like that!” The more he talked, the more I was becoming aware I was not the only one who would try to catch a glimpse of him, he would look my way too. I never caught him looking at me, we talked many times when crossing paths in the mansion, or when I’d treat his injuries. But here, it was different.
Here he was admitting he would try to find the right time to come my way, strike a conversation. Make it seem accidental too, but he was, as per his words, also very determined in his own actions. Perhaps too subtle, which was ironic coming from such a loud man, in his endeavor. “You admit you’ve been gawking when I train?” I asked jokingly, elating a silent gasp as he looked to the side only for a moment before looking at me.
“I am, yes! I wish to get to know you better and being bed-ridden seems to be the best way to do so,” I hummed in response, he continued, “I also see you lurking! You are bad at hiding your presence, but it’s alright. I can help you with that, if you’d like?” This time I was the one to choke on my food, he was just as fast to hand me his cup, instead of mine. I hesitantly took it, and drank some of his tea, handing it back to him with a thank you.
“I do not lurk, I come across your training and- and simply get fascinated by your movements. When Pillars are at the mansion, they leave just as soon, you do not, I take every opportunity to better my skills, that is all… And I do watch them train too… A bit,” I shrugged, putting my chopsticks horizontally on the bowl once I was done. It was a half-truth, it was part of the reason, yes. But when the others were training, I would let them be. When the Fire Pillar was part of the equation, I’ll admit I was gawking, drinking in the sight when he’d attach his long sleeves with a ribbon and tie his hair back. His eyes focused and sharp, he could see everything. No wonder he caught me.
“I asked the others! They sometimes catch you glancing at them, but that’s it. You only watch me, I do not mind! It’s cute, maybe we could train together if you are so willing to better your great skills,” He said genuinely, as if he hadn’t exposed my longing. Maybe he had not understood how much I enjoyed looking at him, craving to get closer and talk to him. But he had said so too, we both wanted to get to know one another.
Putting his chopsticks down, he was about to help me tidy up without saying anything more, but I told him to stay there. “Don’t, I’ll do it. You should lay down,” I said as I stood up, cleaning everything. “Lay down? Do you not know that if you go to sleep right after eating, you turn into a cow?” He said jokingly. “That is a superstition, as a child I believed so, but I know better now,” I walked to the door and placed everything outside, calling for the girls and hearing their socks against the well-waxed parquet as they rushed to the room. “I will be spending the night here, do not disturb,” I whispered to them. It earned me reddened cheeks as they ushered away, giggling and murmuring to each other.
Once I went back inside, Rengoku was standing with the crutches as he looked at me, beaming, “We should go for a walk! I do not wish to turn into a cow,” He said with conviction, a playful gleam in his eyes as he gestured with his head to follow him. “You…” I squinted my eyes, in a threatening way.
“I am not ready to go to sleep just yet, I wish to spend more time with you! Join me for a stroll?” Sighing, I reached his side and stood close to him as we wandered to the veranda. I was ready to catch him at any time if he tripped but he seemed to be managing well, “You do not really believe you’ll turn into a cow, do you?” I broke the silence, elating a loud laugh from the Fire Pillar. “I do not! Perhaps Senjuro believes it still, he is afraid to whistle at night in fear of attracting serpents,” Wanting to fool him a bit, I looked at him in shock, “Does it not?” His eyes widened as he stood still, looking at me in surprise.
Bursting out laughing, I held his arm and waved my arm in front of him, “I’m joking! You should have seen your face,” I laughed, trying to stay as silent as possible. “I am not a very superstitious person. But do not tell Master Ubuyashiki, he is a firm believer,” I told him discretely, noticing Kiyo at the corner ahead of us. She was eavesdropping, probably curious since I told them I would be staying in the Fire Pillar’s room tonight. “We have company,” I whispered, glancing subtly towards her. Without looking, Kyojuro smiled beautifully, “I am very aware, hopefully they will not tell Aoi that I am out of bed, bad things happen when we go against her orders,” His tone was lower than I’ve ever heard it, I even believed he did not know how to whisper. But he could, visibly.
“You are under my responsibility now, she has nothing to say with what I do with, or to, you,” I said in a playful tone, hoping to convey that I could do anything if he did not listen to me. Warmth filled my body when he threw me a side-glance and smirked. It was quick and gone like the breeze, but I caught it and it made me feel very much alive. We then both talked at the same time, I told him to go ahead but he encouraged me to go on, which I did, “They spread rumors like wildfire, those three girls, if Aoi is in on it, it’s going to be quite fast,” I said off-handedly, looking around to see if they were still here.
Laughing, Kyojuro stopped and leaned against the wall a moment, smiling my way, “The saying goes: rumors only last 75 days. All we will need to do is turn that rumor into truth! If it’s not a rumor, it’s not a problem!” I turned around, my eyes open wide in surprise as my mouth opened only slightly, speechless. Chuckling nervously, I did not comment on it and simply changed topic, clearing my throat as I nodded his way, “Let me help you back to your room, you seem exhausted,” Did he not realize what he was saying? How blunt, how forthright, and yet he seemed to be liking the idea a lot since he was smiling from ear to ear.
“I am not tired, maybe I’ve thought my recovery better than it actual is,” He laughed, letting me help him. He kept one crutch as we made our way back, while leaving the other behind. I was sure Kiyo would take it back to his room before we even arrived. “I forgot to ask you, what did you want to say earlier?” “That I wish to court-“ Repeating ‘no’ many times, I quickly interrupted him, ignoring the direction his sentence was going. “When we both spoke at the same time, you were going to say something,” He went silent a moment.
Then he laughed lightly, he moved his hand holding the crutch, losing his balance a bit. He seemed to stammer as he tried to find his words then found himself and said with confidence, “I would like to hold your hand, unfortunately it would be hard in the position we are in right now,”
A sound left my throat, out of surprise. Followed by a nervous laugh, before I moved my hand that was holding his elbow around my shoulders, to holding his hand. It was a strange position, the back of my hand was in his palm, our fingers intertwined. His hands were rough but warm, it felt comforting. None of us spoke until we arrived at his room, that’s when I gently removed his arm from around my shoulders to let him lay down, but he did not let go. Looking at him, I noticed the redness of his cheeks as he spoke, “I meant what I said, I wish to properly court you. Perhaps a few steps have been skimmed over already since you are in my chambers-“
I couldn’t help the embarrassed laugh, thinking he meant that since we were in the same bedroom we could have sex, but he quickly let go of my hand and moved them in front of him in panic, “Not in the way we should do anything! I find it funny that you are staying tonight, and I am grateful for it too-“ He paused and rubbed the back of his head before looking at me, “I am not good at this! But I like you!” He said loudly.
I snorted as I moved the crutch Kiyo brought back, next to his futon, then the penny dropped. I hadn’t paid attention to the last part, and it was now being assimilated in my brain. Keep your cool, get to know him, then see how it goes.
“I accept your courting, I would also like to get to know you…” Trailing off, I sat down on my futon after having blown the light off, “You are interesting Kyojuro, you’d be even more interesting if you listened to me once in a while,” I said playfully while laying down, facing his futon. He did the same, but did not seem exhausted at all, he was staring at me with wide eyes and a smile. “I am so excited to recover fully to finally be able to train with you!” He reached out across the tatami, his arm not long enough to reach my side with the distance between us.
My hand clenched the pillow tight, then I let go and reached out for his hand. I didn’t say anything, only continuing the conversation, but I stuttered as I spoke when I saw the content smile on his lips once I wrapped my hand around his. “I’ll see if Shinobu can help with your healing, I cannot promise anything… It’s funny because all you have to do is: nothing, and yet you’re struggling,” I huffed, laying on my back, while still holding his hand, “You mentioned someone called Senjurou, is that your brother?” I whispered, directing the question to the only person in the room.
Yet, I did not receive and answer. Calling his name softly, no answer was given again. I looked at him from the corner of my eye and saw he had fallen asleep, “Already?” I breathed, facing him once more. “Good…” When I tried to free my hand from his grasp, he held tighter but did not wake up. I let out a breathy laugh and squeezed back, thinking that there was no leaving him tonight. There were worse predicaments than this one, like having to take care of Sanemi’s wounds, right.
With how quiet the night was, sleep easily came to me. Deep inside, I was not convinced it was the quiet of the night that made it so easy to sleep, perhaps it was the comforting presence of the Pillar by my side. Whichever it was, I did not care.
[Part 2]
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doctenwho · 4 years
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Talk Me Down
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Oof, not me disappearing for like a two months. I’m so sorry! I have the attention span of a goldfish and I’ve been fandom hopping. I sadly hyperfocus in and out, and then I’m back (currently stuck on Prodigal Son again, if anyone’s interested!).  D: Still working on the prompts in waiting, if I haven’t gotten around to yours yet!
Anywho! Thank you so much for the prompt! It was a lot of fun to work on, and I’m sorry it took so long! Hopefully this was what you were looking for, I thought it was pretty fluffy! 
Warnings: Panic/ Anxiety attacks, light angst
Word Count: 2,731 (Sorry it’s a bit short!)
Summary: Read the prompt above!
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(Gif is not mine! All credit goes to the creator! :D)
You hated when you and the Doctor would get separated. It always filled you with a sense of dread. You knew he didn’t mean it—he'd never try to intentionally hurt you, but the two of you always somehow broke apart.
It wasn’t as bad when you were on earth—defeating whichever alien decided that earth and humanity was an easy target—but in space, when the Doctor would get carried away and leave you to fend for yourself like he tended to do with companions, you always felt like you were suffocating whenever he did that.
You loved travelling with him, and you were confident in your ability to fend for yourself, but you were just filled with a sinking feeling of doubt whenever he’d leave you alone on a planet you didn’t know. 
Today was no different than any other day. 
Then any other adventure. 
You couldn’t for the life of you remember which planet the Doctor had been raving about when he’d landed the TARDIS. You’d followed along like you always did, excited for the adventure, but with that small inkling of doubt in the back of your mind.  
He’d taken your hand with a wide smile and led you along. He talked your ear off, telling you of the planet’s history, the inhabitants. His personal favorites about the planet. You liked listening to him, listening to him ramble and gesture enthusiastically about what interested him.  
And then you were running.  
You were starting to think that there wasn’t a place in the universe where the Doctor wasn’t at least one person’s target. Where he hadn’t accidentally wronged someone.  
He’d dragged you along by your hand before you’d come to a fork in the road. He’d looked both directions calculatingly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth before chancing a glance back at you. Then, his eyes seemed to go through you and to whomever happened to be chasing you, which seemed to make some sort of decision for him if the way his eyes hardened was anything to go off.  
His hand broke away from yours, and then he was giving you the slightest push towards one side of the fork with flustered order of “Go!” falling from his lips as he turned hurriedly and shot down the other road.
Your feet moved on autopilot as you sprinted down the path he’d directed you towards, instantly missing the warmth and comfort of the Doctor’s hand in your own. You weren’t sure how long you continued down the road. How long you ran—how far you got.  
You were sure no one was chasing you. You couldn’t hear any other sounds besides your own feet pounding along the gravel, and you heart thrumming in your chest in both exertion and anxiety.  
They wanted the Doctor, not you. Whatever it was the man had done to wrong these people, it had been long before you’d started travelling with him. Long before you’d even met the man.  
That still didn’t stop the clawing worry in your stomach. Was the Doctor okay? Would he come find you? Would he find you?  
What if he wasn’t okay? What if you’d be stranded here forever? Not only did you not think you’d ever be able to make it back to the TARDIS, but there was absolutely no way you’d be able to get her to fly even if you did somehow make it back.  
You weren’t a Timelord. The TARDIS wouldn’t fly for you, even if you tried.
You’d be stranded here.
Somewhere deep in the back of your mind a tiny voice was whispering to trust the Doctor. He hadn’t gotten the two of you into any serious danger yet. He took care of you, and you’d never been injured beyond bruises and scrapes. He always came for you. Always found you and swept you back into the TARDIS and far away from the threat.  
He’d always taken care of you--
But the larger, louder calling in your head shouted your fears. He wouldn’t find you. He was dead. They’d captured him. You were alone. Alone on a planet you didn’t even know the name of. You’d never see the Doctor again. You’d never see your friends and family, or planet again.
You were stranded.
Your movements slowed, and before you could fight to keep yourself up, your knees buckled under you. You fell to the dirty road below; your knees and hands scraping on the gravel.  
You were stuck here. On this strange planet. Without the Doctor.  
Alone.
You crawled to the side of the road, hiding yourself the best you could manage in a bush of some sort. It dug uncomfortably into your body, but you couldn’t be bothered. What did it matter?
A gaspy cry fell from you lips as you coiled in on yourself, pulling your knees to your chest as you buried your face in the fabric of your pants. It was a sinking feeling of loneliness—fear of the unknown environment.
You could barely force in any air. It felt like you were dying. This was it. You were going to die of lack of oxygen—which was weird considering the Doctor had told you this planet had the same atmosphere as earth. There was plenty of oxygen, but you couldn’t manage to suck any in.  
You struggled for each gasp of air you got.
Your head was an uncomfortable mix of lightheadedness and pounding headache, and you were sure you were crying. Tears slipping down your cheeks as your thoughts consumed you. The bigger, louder voice washing over the tiny pleading one like a title wave.  
How were you going to make it out of this? How would you survive this strange alien planet without the Doctor by your side? Your fingers subconsciously dug into your forearms where they were wrapped around your legs, holding your knees snug against you.  
“(Y/N)!” You heard, but it sounded far away. Far away and drown out. Why did it feel like you were underwater? You struggled to suck in another breath as a foreign touch settled on your hand, curling to just slightly grip around yours, “you need to take a breath, c’mon, deep in...”
You tried to steady your thoughts, taking a stuttery intake of air like the voice suggested, and it was quick to cool your lungs down. That suffocating feeling eased the slightest amount. The soft voice talking you through this was steadying you—anchoring you back, “good, good, my dear, now out? You’re doing perfect.”
It took a second before you let yourself blow out the air in your lungs, “perfect,” the voice told you, soft and comforting, “very good, another one? Nice and slow, alright? Breath with me, in and out.”
You sucked in another breath, waited for the hand around yours to tighten just the slightest before blowing that breath out too. Now that you could breathe through the mist of anxiety, you were desperate to pull in more air. You weren’t sure how long you’d been lost—unsure how long you’d gone without a decent breath.  
“Good,” the voice whispered lowly as a second hand settled on your forearm, thumb rubbing softly along your arm, “you’re doing brilliantly, (Y/N). Come back to me now, alright?”
You weren’t sure where you’d gone, but you’d try for the voice.  
You forced your eyes open, unsure when you’d really shut them. You couldn’t remember squeezing them shut, but it was almost a relief when you let your face relax. You continued with the deep breaths, replaying the words that had been spoken to you in your head—in and out.
Before you, dropped in a panicked kneel, was the Doctor. He looked out of breath, and frantic. Worried eyes searching your face for... you weren’t sure what he was looking so intently for. The worry didn’t look quite right on the usually so confident and narcissistic man.  
It was definitely the Doctor though.
“Doctor?” you wheezed out, uncoiling just enough to settle a hand on his chest to test if he was real or not. You hand flattened against him, and then one of his hands was pulling away from you to settle over top of your hand.
“I’m here,” he promised, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I’m here now. You’re alright.”
You let yourself fall forwards into him with the confirmation that it was him. That the Doctor was real before you. Alive. Here. You weren’t stranded. You weren’t alone anymore. A rush of that suffocating separation anxiety flowed out with your next heaving breath.  
You buried your face in his suit jacket as his arms wrapped tightly around you, “keep breathing, love, alright? Deep breaths for me.”
It was easier to suck in the breaths with the Doctor in close proximity. Even if it really should be harder to get any air through his clothes. You managed to wrap your arms around him too, holding him close.  
The two of you were at an awkward angle, the Doctor still on his knees in front of you, and you in an awkward mess of desperate limbs. Neither of you seemed to mind the odd position much. The longer you sat, the stiffer you got, but it was the furthest thing from your mind.  
“You’re doing so good,” the Doctor whispered into your hair, “I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”
“You’re okay,” you whimpered out against his jacket.
“I am,” the Doctor agreed tenderly, “it was a misunderstanding. I’m okay, and you’re okay. We’re both okay, alright? Deep breaths.”
You just curled yourself in closer to him, afraid that you’d lose him if you let go. Your thoughts still ran rampant in your head, anxious and panicked, but the longer you forced in breaths, and sat in the Doctor’s arms with his hands trailing along your back and petting down your hair, the more everything eased away.  
The Doctor didn’t say much else as you slowly calmed down in his arms. With your breaths finally starting to even out, he didn’t keep reminding you. But whenever you slowed, or swallowed a shallow intake, he’d calmly remind you again.  
You didn’t know how long the two of you sat there on the ground, on some planet you didn’t even remember the name of. The Doctor made no move to get up, to move, and to speak until you’d calmed. Until you were okay, and breath steadily.  
“I’m sorry.” The Doctor told you once more, his chin settled on the top of your head as he held you close.  
“What for?” You finally asked when it no longer felt like you were fighting for every breath. His heart beats below your ear calmed you down, focused your attention. Reminded you he was here. That even if your head was telling you that you were alone, that you definitely weren’t.  
“We shouldn’t have split up,” the Doctor told you, “I should’ve kept you with me, but I needed you to be safe, and I knew they were after me, and not you, so I sent you away.”
“I thought you were gone,” you squeezed your eyes shut, forcing another breath just because you could, “I thought you were gone, and I didn’t know where I was. I... I thought I’d be stuck here forever. I was alone.”
“I know,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your head, “I’m sorry. I was wrong. We should’ve stayed together. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). It was stupid, I know you’re different from other companions, and I still thrusted you into something that made you uncomfortable. I just needed you to be okay.”
“I’m okay,” you breathed out, but you weren’t sure if that was his sake, or a reminder for yourself. You’d never had a panic attack quite as heavy. Never one that broke you down like this one had.  
“You’re okay,” the Doctor repeated, tightening his hold. You didn’t know if he really believed your words—his tone was pretty neutral. “You’re okay now. I’ve got you. I’ll always come for you okay?”
“Okay,” you swallowed, letting your forehead settle against his chest.
“Think you’re okay to stand? You weren’t hurt, were you?”
“No,” you shook you head, pulling away enough to look up at the Doctor, “I’m okay... you were right, no one came after me. I... I just, I tripped, I think.”
You pulled your hands away to look down at them, frowning at the scratches from the gravel. The Doctor took your hands into his own, leaning away just enough to look down at your palms. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” you told him with a small laugh that didn’t sound quite right. Not as okay as you’d hoped it would’ve. You ignored the kicked-puppy look the Doctor shot in your direction as you pushed yourself up, using the Doctor’s shoulder as support before offering a hand to help him up too.  
It wasn’t his fault—he'd been protecting you. You’d always been a bit clingy anyways. The separation anxiety wasn’t new either—you'd just... never expected it could get so much worse on a planet that wasn’t your own. Being alone on a planet that you didn’t know; one not even in your own galaxy had hit you harder than ever.  
The Doctor took your offered hand, accepting the help up, but he didn’t look convinced by your words.
The need to not let go was clearly just as evident in him as it was in you. You went to pull you hand back after he was standing, but he didn’t let up his grip. You didn’t mind though, just squeezing his hand in return.
He pulled you closer by your hand, only letting go when you were close enough to wrap his arms around. This hug was a lot more comfortable, standing instead of whatever odd sitting thing you’d been doing before. You could push closer, and he held you tighter.  
You tucked in against his body much easier.
You melted into the embrace, letting him hold you. You weren’t sure if it was for your sake at this point, or his own, but you didn’t question it. Whether for him, or for you, it was a tenderness you needed right now. Comfort and protection from the Doctor.
“You scared me,” the Doctor whispered against your head.  
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you murmured.
He pulled back enough to cup your face in his hands, thumbs trailing under your eyes with a feathery touch, wiping away the tear tracks with a frown, “I didn’t think my plan through, and it put you at risk, even if it wasn’t my intention. The need to make sure you were safe was stronger than the logic that you don’t know this planet. That I was pushing you into the unknown.”
“I know you were trying to protect me, I just...”
“Not the right way,” the Doctor decided. You felt him gave a light shake of his head, “it’s not protecting you if it manifests like this, (Y/N). It was the wrong choice because you panicked, because of me. I won’t do that again, I assure you.”
“No more splitting up?” You tilted your head at him. It made you feel very clingy, and you were sure your voice sounded more relieved than you would’ve liked, but the Doctor just gave you a tiny smile, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.  
“No,” he leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead, “no more splitting up—especially not on planets you don’t know. I can’t promise we’ll never get separated again, but I can promise I’ll always keep you safe, and I’ll always find you again.”
“I know,” you swallowed, nuzzling up against him and pulling him back into a tight hug. “I trust you.”
“I’m glad,” you could hear the playful smile in the Doctor’s voice, “now, what do you say we head back to the TARDIS and get off this planet. We can clean your hands up too.”
“Sounds good,” you returned the small smile. You wiped your hands against your pants halfheartedly.  
The Doctor wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side easily. You curled in close, pressing the side of your face against his side. His thumb swept along your shoulder, arm keeping to tight and sheltered against him.  
Protective, but comforting all the same.Comforting to the both of you.
<><><><>
Heyy! Thanks for taking the time to read this! I hoped you liked it! As always, if it wasn’t what you were looking for, feel free to prompt me again!
Hopefully the anxiety/panic attack was realistic enough, I’ve only got me to go off, but I know it’s different for everyone! Also, alternative title suggestions would be appreciated if you’ve got one!
204 notes · View notes
shuahoonie · 4 years
Text
holidays with tom [tom holland]
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PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader 
SUMMARY: life isn’t exactly back to normal. with another lockdown in place and the holiday season is vastly approaching, you and tom are stuck in quarantine with each other the problem? there was supposed to be at least 5 of you in that house and tom is the last person you want to be with. shouldn’t be too bad right? 
WARNINGS: in no particular order swearing—err foul language lmao, sexual innuendos, things get heated but not that much??? exuding sexual tension but also fluff??? alcohol consumption, a series of bad decisions??? idk writing this made me experience the 5 stages of grief tbh lmao it’s not that bad I promise lmao
WORD COUNT: 6.9k! 
A/N: hello and happy new year! I was supposed to post this during Christmas Day but guess who got into a writing rut—yet again. I didn’t want to abandon this because I actually had fun writing it. I hope you all had a festive and safe holiday. I know things have been hard but I still hope you guys enjoyed the holiday. 
2020 has finally came to an end and we’re all ending it the same way when the pandemic started—staying at home, hopefully following the appropriate health measures. I can only hope that 2021 is a brighter and hopeful year for all of us.
stay safe, sending u all my love. 
gif credits: @underoos-shield​ 
vanessa’s masterlist | taglist form 
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Two hours. It’s been two hours since you found out that you were going to spend your holidays alone. You were aware that you weren’t going to spend your holidays with your family as you normally would, embracing the fact that working in a different country whilst in the middle of a pandemic was going to be challenging. 
Working in the film industry, constantly visiting sets while still living in a pandemic means that you threw away your chances of being home for the holidays. However, you weren’t entirely the only one who shares a similar struggle. 
“We should still do something for Christmas, you know,” Tom muttered as he watched you lay down on the sofa, your head is supported by the armrest. 
See—it should’ve been you, Ophelia, Alex, William, and Tom in that AirBnB, not just you and Tom.
The five of you reside abroad, however, you all had to fly to Los Angeles for work. You all collectively knew that it would be irresponsible to fly home for the holidays and it wouldn’t make any sense as you would all fly back for work anyway. 
The five of you had a brilliant idea of renting an AirBnB for the holidays since you were all in each other’s personal and work bubble anyway. Obviously, the three of them bailed as they’ve decided to stay with their partners instead, leaving you and Tom alone—which is the last thing you’ve wanted. 
“There’s just us two, Tom,” You replied as you sent a lengthy text to Ophelia, telling and reminding them about what happened between you and Tom.  “I’m not entirely sure if it’s worth anything if we did plan on doing something remotely festive.” 
There are four more days till Christmas and if you were being honest, the last time you felt festive was on the 18th of December...of 2019. 
“Surely there’s something we can do, right?” Tom’s optimism still shined beneath him. “This year has already been shitty enough, we don’t need to feed more into that.” 
The three dots bubble immediately popped up on your message thread with Ophelia as soon as you sent your passive-aggressive rant. Your focus was now on your phone. 
Suddenly, Tom’s face appeared on top of yours—his face was definitely close enough that it’s not CDC approved. He was standing on side of the sofa, both of his palms planted against the armrest as he loomed over you. 
“What do you and your family do during Christmas?” He dared to ask as if he wasn’t towering over you.
Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Uh—give each other personal space?” You answered out of sheer reflex. You always had a problem with keeping your mouth shut, especially when it sounds rude to other people. In your defence, being unable to do so has helped you put people back in place. 
To be fair, you were used to people standing at least 6 ft away from you ever since the pandemic started. 
Tom’s cheeks went bright red. “’m sorry,” He apologized, giving you a shy smile and scratched the back of his neck. You muttered a quick apology too, for acting so rashly. 
You rose from your position and sat upright instead. “Well, we never do anything special during Christmas,” You said as you threw your hair into a bun. “We usually just go to the movies on Christmas Day because that’s the only thing you can do back when life was normal.” 
Tom nodded understandingly as if he was taking this into account. Now you were curious. 
“Do you guys do anything special for Christmas?” You asked him. 
“Well, on Christmas Day, we would usually just lounge around the house and use it as a chance for me and my family to catch up,” Tom replied. “However, on Christmas Eve, my mum always made sure my brothers and I would have this scavenger hunt to look for our gifts—It’s really fun, actually.” Tom smiled sadly. 
You could easily see how Tom was genuinely broken about not being able to be around his family over the holidays. Heck—he really just misses his family. But who wouldn’t? Britney Spears didn’t sing the line “my loneliness is killing me” for nothing. 
“I’m sorry,” was all you could say. Aside from biting your tongue, being able to easily comfort people was one of your weaknesses too. 
“Oh, there’s nothing to be sorry about, darling.” Tom quickly dismissed the genuine heartbreak he was trying to hide. “We’re all making sacrifices and we chose to be responsible for the benefit of other people.” 
“Yeah, I know.” You said softly. “We’ll just try our best to make something out of this holiday season. I mean—we have to or else we’ll welcome 2021 with a fresh face of misery.” 
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“I’m sorry!” Ophelia pouted at the screen as they mindlessly walked around their partner’s place, something that most people do when they’re on the phone with someone. “I genuinely forgot about what happened between you and Tom.” 
“Well, Ollie, it seems like you weren’t the only one.” You replied, adjusting your glasses. Tom seems to be genuinely fine around you, no awkward tensions or anything. If anything, it’s just you who feels weird around him. “But I guess that’s a good thing right?” 
Ophelia forced a smile but they couldn’t, for the life of them, say anything about it. 
“Oh my god,” You sighed “Seriously, Ollie?” 
“It’s just—how could he forget?! You were literally on top of him as I recall and that very much left a permanent image on my mind. I—You know, I really tried my best to forget that ever existing in my mind. So really, if anything, it’s your fault.” Ophelia rambled on. 
“I—I wasn’t on top of him. That’s absurd! I was merely pressed against him” You said defensively, in which Ophelia just laughed atrociously. “Why am I friends with you again?!” You asked rhetorically, bewildered by the fact that you two lasted this long. 
“First of all, that is a hate crime. Second, I’m cool—like everyone wants to be my friend and you should be glad that I gave you the privilege to be even on a nickname basis as me.” 
You rolled your eyes at them. Despite the never-ending banter, you were grateful to have Ophelia as your friend. 
“But seriously, Y/N,” Ophelia said, “You can always just stay with me and Ericka. She’ll be glad to have you over for the holidays.”
“Ollie, as much as I love spending time with you two—I can’t stand being a third-wheel, especially when it comes to the both of you. You two are inseparable when you’re together.” You replied. “I appreciate the offer though.” You smiled at her. 
“I’m just saying—” Ophelia replied, shrugging her shoulder. “Unless you and Tom really want to have the house by yourselves.” They sang teasingly.
“Ophelia!” You gasped. 
“What?” They feigned innocence. “I gave you an option to stay with us! Plus, I know Alex and Will are would’ve asked you to stay with them if they had any idea what happened between you two.” 
“I can’t leave him!” You started to whisper “Tom seems genuinely bummed being here. I can’t just do that to him.” 
It’s as if a light came on inside them. Ophelia started to smirk and you recognized that smirk from anywhere. For christ’s sake, their eyes twinkled like Christmas lights. It drove you nuts. “I fucking knew it.” 
“What?” 
“You like him don’t you?!” They teased, but all you could do was blush. 
“I do not!” You denied it as you could still feel the burning heat emitting from your cheeks. 
“His tongue is that good huh?” Ophelia decided to pry even further. They clearly find enjoyment as you squirmed your way out of this conversation. 
“Bitch, I am ending this call.” That was all you could say. Even if you did find a smart retort, it was no use, especially with Ophelia. They can see right through you and there’s no point in trying to hide it. 
“Honestly, Y/N, we’re living through a pandemic. If there’s any time to make any rash decisions, it’s now. Go get that dick, bih—” 
You drowned out whatever Ophelia was trying to say with your goodbyes and proceeded to end the call. The one time you asked your friend to be serious and they come up with this. 
So—what really happened with you and Tom? 
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It was two years ago. You were at a party that you didn’t even plan on attending. However, you were dragged by Ophelia and their partner, Ericka—your new friends in the area. You couldn’t say no to them, they were your first friend in LA! 
You thought about it though, saying no. But when you got a message from your friend back in Canada sending a photo of your boyfriend ex-boyfriend (the same guy who had ghosted you ever since you moved to LA), swapping spits with another girl, you suddenly had the strong urge to drink until you die of alcohol poisoning.
You were burning with anger that you really felt tears pricking your eyes. You were so close to crying or punching someone—whichever comes first.  
One thing’s for sure, though, you weren’t going to cry over a man. So what did you do? “Ophelia, where’s the booze?!” You asked your friend whose eyes nearly popped out of their head. 
Well, you weren’t really going to punch a stranger. Though you felt this burning sense of violence, it’d be much more satisfying to punch the living daylights out on your ex. 
“Y/N, honey, are you alright?” That line always puts on the waterworks, no?  Ophelia was clearly concerned about your newfound thirst for alcohol. 
You furiously wiped the tears off your face. “Um just found out my boyfriend—er ex-boyfriend, who stopped talking to me as soon as I moved here, is seeing someone else now? I don’t know, am I allowed to feel angry when I don’t even know if we’re still together as soon I moved? Fuck—” You tried to explain as you wiped every tear that left your eyes. 
“Oh—of course, hon.” Ericka who handed you a drink. You weren’t exactly sure what it is, but you knew it has alcohol in it and that’s all that matters. You gulped the entire thing and you wanted more. “Y/N, you need to slow down.”
“Are you sure you want to stay? I mean we can crash at our place, eat take-outs, watch movies and be totally disconnected from the world.” Ophelia suggested, but you shook your head furiously. 
“No, I—I’m ok.” You answered “I can’t let the both of you be stuck in misery with me. I need this. I’ll get drunk and if I'm up for it, I’ll hook up with someone. It’s not a healthy coping method but I really want this night to be a series of bad decisions. I don’t want to be myself, even just tonight.”
 So that’s what you did. You were going from one drink to another in record time. Both Ophelia and Ericka kept an eye on you, just in case someone tried to take advantage of your drunken state. 
You were talking to some guy you met in the kitchen, one thing led to another and next thing you knew, you were making out with this dude in someone’s bathroom. Ophelia and Ericka were drunk enough to pester the guy you were making out with but not drunk 
As you were propped on top of the sink and your legs wrapped around his waist, you felt every bit of his lips explore the side of your neck as his hands explored every inch of your body. With his hand under your shirt and his fingers tracing every part of your skin, it just reminded you of how lonely you were. 
Here you were, a thousand miles away from home, all alone just so you could do the one thing you really love. Your family would sometimes call to check up on you but it just wasn’t the same. Your ex tried to guilt you into staying in Canada, but you couldn’t do that. You love what you do and you love yourself too. 
You were willing to risk everything, even if happiness came at a price. 
Now you were crying, and the guy you were making out with definitely noticed. 
“I’m sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked as he pulled down your shirt. 
“No—no, I’m just—” You tried to calm yourself down. “I’m not sure if I want to do this anymore.” 
“That’s alright,” He mumbled wiping the tears off your face. “Do you want to talk about it? You seem rattled.” 
“It’s just I’m so tired of pretending everything is alright—that I’m okay being alone, that I don’t need anyone. But it’s just so hard because I’m—” You sobbed “I’m so fucking lonely. I’m so tired of being alone.” 
The guy tucked the stray piece of hair behind your ears as he carefully wiped your tears with his thumb. He was just silent as he listened to you sob. 
“I’m sorry, I know you definitely didn’t come to this party to watch a complete stranger cry over something stupid.” You couldn’t even look him in the eye, you were embarrassed as this was the first time you felt really vulnerable—especially in front of a stranger. 
“No, you’re alright.” He tried to console you “I think that’s the beauty in strangers, no? You can act and do whatever you want in front of them because there’s a slim chance you’ll ever see them again.” 
You were definitely drunk enough that trying to make sense of who the person was a struggle enough of itself. You tried your best to look at the guy but your vision was getting hazy and you could feel your head thumping that focusing made you feel like you want to crack your head in half. 
A loud knock on the door caused you two to jump. “I’m coming in,” Ophelia yelled and opened the door. Ophelia looked at the guy for a while, trying to make sense of who he was before their eyes widened. “I remember now—You’re Tom Holland.”
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Imagine your surprise when you found out that you were going to work with Tom Holland for a while. You tried your best to avoid Tom at work but of course, that didn’t work out. He never brought up what happened between you two and you assumed he probably forgot all about it.
You tried to rationalize that he meets a lot of people every day. Surely, one failed hook-up wasn’t worth remembering (especially with alcohol involved) and you held on to that. 
At least that’s what makes you sleep at night and also one of the reasons why you considered spending the holidays with him. However, you were also expecting your crew friends to stay with you and not just Tom. 
“Y/N, did you like the gift? It’s from me and Ericka!” Ophelia asked. It was the next day and you two were just chatting on FaceTime. You were sorting out your closet out of sheer boredom. You figured if you were going to stay here for three weeks, the least you could do was sort your clothes out. 
You stared at the neatly wrapped box that Ophelia and Ericka dropped off earlier this morning. “I haven’t opened it yet.” You said as you showed them the box. “I wanna open it till Christmas.” 
“Oh my god, just open it. Christmas doesn’t exist this year, babe.” Ophelia waved their hand, encouraging you to open it. 
“Fine,” You gave in. You opened the box and saw a very lush and well-made lingerie set. “Ophelia, what the fuck” You gasped. You held out the lingerie in front of the camera. 
“Y/N, I definitely outdid myself this time.” Ophelia sighed happily, staring at the screen. “Try it on!”
“Ollie, this is gorgeous but when am I ever going to use this?” You asked holding it out on your body and looking at the mirror. 
“Uh—you’re stuck at home with your failed but also potential hookup,” Ollie suggested, wiggling their eyebrows. “Who knows what might happen?”  
You rolled your eyes at them. “Bold of you assume that something might happen.”
“Something won’t happen if you don’t try that one,” Ophelia said. “C’mon, I wanna see.” 
You shook your head and went out of frame in order to strip off your clothes. You tried on the lingerie—it’s a black lace teddy with a very exposing back. IT fit you perfectly—it accentuated your figure and definitely showed off your boobs. You weren’t really fond of showing off your body but you still tried your best to show it to your friend. 
“What do you think?” You asked, stepping back to the frame. 
“You look gorgeous, babe!” Ophelia squealed. “I knew I made the right choice with black.” 
“I still don’t know where I should wear this though—” You were stopped mid-sentence when your door swung open. 
“I know what we’re doing this—Oh shit. I’m so sorry,” Tom stood there, frozen, his eyes widened and immediately shut the door. 
You couldn’t even say anything. You were frozen in shock.
“Was that Tom?” Ophelia asked from the call, briefly forgetting that you were talking to them through FaceTime. 
You nodded slowly, unable to talk.
“What did he think?” Ophelia asked excitedly. 
You snapped out of this haze. “Ollie,” you groaned. “I think he was mentally scarred. 
“What do you mean scarred? You look great!” Ophelia said, appalled. “If he doesn’t think you look banging in that lingerie then it’s his loss.” 
“I gotta go, I need to change.” You said, bidding Ophelia goodbye. “Thanks for the gift, Ollie. Tell Ericka thanks too.” 
You ended the call and changed into comfier clothes. You couldn’t help but wonder how on earth you’re going to face Tom now that he’s seen you practically naked. Well, it’s not like that’s a new sight. He did see you with your bra on when you were making out in the bathroom that one time. But still! 
Are you actually going to spend your Christmas in your room?
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It was the next day and there are only two more days till Christmas. You spent the entirety of last night in your room after the incident between you and Tom. 
You were about to make yourself some coffee when you found Tom in the kitchen, making tea for himself. You stood there frozen, wondering if you were going to proceed to the kitchen or just run back to your room since Tom hasn’t noticed you—
“Oh—good morning, Y/N.” So close. 
You smiled at Tom and said, “Good morning, Tom.” 
You grabbed a coffee pod and waited for the Keurig to make your coffee. You leaned back against the counter and fiddled with your phone—all in the hopes that things move quickly and for this awkward tension to be over. 
Honestly, why were you so worked up about it? People have seen you in a bikini before and that’s no different from lingerie. If anything, lingerie is itchier and has lace. You should be able to feel confident in your own body and you shouldn’t have to mind what other people think of it. It’s yours alone and it’s your opinion that should matter—
“I’m terribly sorry about last night, Y/N.” Tom apologized, sincerity was written all over his face. “I should’ve knocked and I just got so bloody excited about what we can do over Christmas—but that’s no excuse for what I’ve done. What I did was incredibly intrusive and you deserve a proper apology.”
“Tom, I—”
“I wanted to apologize last night—over dinner—but you didn’t come down to eat, so I figured you didn’t want to talk. “ He rambled on. 
“Tom—” 
“But even then I should’ve asked you to come down and eat dinner because that’s what any decent human would do! And yet I didn’t. God—I’m just doing one wrong thing after another—” 
“Tom, listen to me.” 
“Hm?” He finally snapped out and looked at you in the eyes. 
“It’s okay. It was an honest mistake and you sincerely apologized, and for me, that’s enough.” You smiled softly at him. “So—what’s this thing you planned over Christmas?” 
“I was thinking we could do both our family traditions over the next two days. My family and I usually do a roast dinner and open our Christmas stockings on Christmas Eve. Then on the 25th, we can watch movies all day just like you do with your family.” Tom grinned, clearly satisfied with his plan. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s a great idea,” You smiled “However, I don’t think we have any ingredients for a roast dinner and we don’t really have Christmas stockings. Well—I don’t have any Christmas stockings and stocking stuffers.” 
“That’s true,” Tom mumbled “But I have to do the food shopping anyway. We’re running low on food and I couldn't really book one of those online delivery things that most groceries now offer.” 
You nodded. “Okay, so I guess I have to get the house sorted then.” 
When you two first arrived in this AirBnB a few days ago, it had already been decorated for Christmas. It had a massive tree in the living room decorated with stunning and intricately-themed ornaments. Christmas garlands were wrapped around the stair-bannisters and foliages were placed by the fireplace and the tables. 
All you really had to do was clean the place—do a bit of vacuuming and get things nice and neat for Christmas. It didn’t take you too long to do it too. It had only been a couple of minutes since Tom left to do the food shopping and you prayed to the gods that he doesn’t get too much attention whilst out. 
You figured you might as well do some last-minute shopping while Tom was out, so you can grab gifts for him as well. After all, this whole thing was orchestrated by Tom and you don’t even have anything to give him for his stockings. 
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You arrived at your AirBnB a tad later than Tom. He was in the kitchen putting things away when he saw you walk through the door. 
“Ah, I was wondering whether I spooked you with my plan,” Tom commented, making you chuckle and roll your eyes. 
“Trust me, I would’ve made it very obvious if you did.” You replied, earning a laugh from Tom. “I went out to do my last-minute shopping. Granted, it’s not ideal since we’re still living through a pandemic, but there’s not actually that many people where I went to considering it’s the Christmas rush.” 
You made sure to hide the stuff you bought using the handmade tote bags that a friend gave you for your birthday. No retail bags, no clue. “How did you survive the groceries? I bet it’s busy out there.” 
“Yeah, it was.” Tom chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Remind me to never do that again for Christmas.” 
“Sure,” You said, “That is if I spend another Christmas with you.” You said jokingly, hoping that Tom didn’t find that rude. 
“You’ll never know,” Tom shrugged. “What if you liked our Christmas this year and you’d be begging to spend Christmas with me and my family in London,” Tom smirked, playing along. 
“Yeah, right.” You scoffed playfully, crossing your arms. “If anyone’s begging, it’s going to be you.”
Tom stepped closer, “Wanna bet?” He whispered, a teasing look in his eyes. “Whoever has the most fun during our respective holiday traditions would have to spend the holidays with them next year.” 
“Oh, you’re on, Holland.” You took a step closer. “We will both film our holidays for the entire two days and then we’ll ask Ophelia, Alex, and Will to vote whoever looks like they had the most fun.”
“Okay,” Tom nodded “But no editing! We’ll give them raw footage so there are no chances of tampering.” 
You laughed but you agreed anyway. “Of course, we’ll give them hours of footage. The least we could do is make them sit through hours of content after they ditched us all alone on the holidays.” 
Tom gave a broad smile. “Let the festivities begin.” 
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It was the 24th of December—Christmas Eve. You spent the entirety of last night wrapping Tom’s presents for later. Not that you despise Christmas, but it’s been a while since you were actually excited to celebrate it. It was pretty clear that the magic of Christmas dies once you grow up. 
Today was different; you were looking forward to whatever Tom has installed for tonight. 
You went downstairs to make some breakfast only to be greeted by Tom blasting Christmas music and preparing some ingredients for breakfast in the kitchen. 
“Good morning, Y/N, happy Christmas Eve,” Tom greeted with a huge grin. “Say, hi to the camera.” 
“Oh, we’re starting this early, huh?” You asked, putting your hair into a loose ponytail. 
“Why of course, we have to make the best out of this,” Tom said, holding the camera to your face. “I made you coffee.” Tom handed you a cup of coffee. 
“Are you using my love for coffee as an advantage?” You tried to hide your smile while drinking your coffee. 
“Obviously not,” Tom feigned his innocence. “I obviously did not know you were obsessed with coffee—it’s not like I don’t see you on set without one.” He mumbled in which you definitely heard, giving him a smack on the head. “Ow! I’m kidding.” He laughed.
You rolled your eyes at him. “So, what’s for breakfast?” 
“We’re going to make french crèpes,” Tom replied and propped the camera on the kitchen island, facing the two of you. 
“Do you know how to make french crèpes?” You asked, washing your hands. 
Tom blinked, almost trying to decide whether he wants to be honest or impressive. “Do you know how to make french crèpes?” He returned the question. 
“Oh honey, my mom resents me in the kitchen.” You replied, taking a sip from your coffee. “But you know, I manage.” You murmured.
“That’s giving me a lot of hope, darling, thank you.” He said half-heartedly. 
“Shut up,” You nudged him playfully, rolling your eyes. “Tom, honestly, most of the footage is just us bantering for 20 minutes.” 
“To be fair, that’s part of the fun.” Tom smiled. “Okay, I think you just mix all of these in a bowl. Start with the dry ingredients first.” He said, looking at the recipe on his phone.
“Okay, that shouldn’t be too hard,” You commented pouring the ingredients into the bowl. As you started all of the ingredients together, you noticed small lumps forming in the batter. “Tom, did you sift the dry ingredients by chance?” 
“You were supposed to sift it?” He asked, completely clueless. 
You nodded slowly. Panic was now clearly painted on his face. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” You tried to reassure him. 
It was not fine. The first time you two tried to pour the batter in the pan, you burnt the entire thing. It’s not even the cute, lightly burnt crepe. It was activating the smoke alarm-burnt crepe. 
The next one was pancake-like. The next one after that had pocket flours on the crepes because you two didn’t sift your dry ingredients beforehand. You ran out of the batter when you two finally got the consistency right—you managed to get one proper crepe from the entire batter. 
“I feel like Sam would probably curse me out as soon as he finds out I fucked up a simple crepe,” Tom said, delicately filling the crepe with creme and berries. “My brother’s done so well in culinary school.” He cut a piece with his fork and brought it to your mouth.
“Well, you can’t have everything.” You said taking a bite out of the crepe. “This is better than the last one.” 
Tom nodded, taking a bite of it himself. “It’s not as tasty as Sam’s but I’ll take it.” 
“Now, I’m curious as to what your brother’s cooking tastes like.” You commented taking another bite from the crepe. 
“I guess I’ll just take you home to London to find out,” Tom teased with an annoying grin. 
“As long as I’m being fed, I’m fine with it.” You remarked. What in god’s name are you are you two playing?!
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The day rolled by very quickly. It was already evening when you finished wrapping the presents for your friends. You plan on dropping it off tomorrow before you persuade Tom to glue yourselves on the couch for the entire day. 
You grabbed all of Tom’s gifts—Christmas stocking included— when you went downstairs, only to be greeted by someone yelling at Tom through his phone. 
“I did everything right, Sam. I don’t know why you’re yelling.” Tom yelled back at his phone. His back was turned against you as he was putting away the pots and pans that he used. 
You quietly walked up behind him and said calmly, “Why are you yelling?” 
Tom probably jumped six feet away from you, making you laugh. You always forget that he gets scared easily. “Holy shit, don’t scare me like that, Y/N.” Tom breathed out, putting a hand over his chest. 
“I’m sorry,” You said whilst laughing. “I promise I won’t do it again.” Tom rolled his eyes, murmuring something about you being insincere about it. 
“Please do it again!” You heard, whom you assume is Sam, say from the background. You looked at Tom’s phone that’s propped on the island and saw his brothers on FaceTime. 
You beamed at them. “Any recommendations?” You asked, hearing Tom groan behind you. 
“Well, he hates—” 
“This is the last thing I want in 2020, for my brothers and Y/N to conspire against me,” Tom said loudly on purpose, drowning his brothers' voices.
“Tom, don’t be rude. Let your brothers finish—” Tom put his hand against your mouth. 
“I’ll call you guys later,” Tom said “Wave goodbye, Y/N.” He used his free hand to grab your hand and forced a wave towards his brothers. The call soon came to an end and you could only roll your eyes at Tom. You seem to do that a lot around him. You also do a lot of that when you try to hide your feelings towards a person you like but that’s beside the point. 
“So are we going to have dinner first or are we going to do presents first?” You asked fixing your Christmas sweater, a gift from your parents since you and your family usually wear matching sweaters for Christmas. “Or are you the type to wait until Christmas Day to open presents?” 
“We can do the Christmas stockings after dinner tonight, then do the presents tomorrow, if you’d like,” Tom answered with his arms crossed. 
You shrugged, telling him it doesn’t matter since you don’t really go all out on Christmas. Your family on the other hand—the house is always full of people, especially since most of your extended family are usually around during the holidays. You had this ongoing game you made for yourself whether or not you’ll be able to greet everyone with the number of people in the house. 
You could only guess how quiet your family’s Christmas is going to be. You definitely needed to call your parents later. 
“Is the sweater that itchy, Y/N?” You heard Tom ask, breaking away from your thoughts. 
“Huh?” You asked, confused. You didn’t even notice that you’ve been scratching yourself subconsciously. 
“You’ve been scratching yourself since I saw you.” Tom said, chuckling. “It’s a cute sweater on you.” 
You smirked. “That reminds me—I got something for you, Tom.” Tom raised his brow as you grabbed the bag you stashed behind the tree. “Actually my parents got this for you. A little thank you gift apparently for having the tolerance to stay with me over the holidays—as if you had a choice.” You mumbled the last part. 
Tom curiously opened the bag and there revealed a matching sweater such as yours. This year’s sweater was green and had red tinsel all over it, probably the reason why you’re itchy. The real kicker is that—
“No way,” Tom gasped “It lights up?!” He asked laughing. It lights up. 
“Yeah, I don’t recommend turning that on. I did it earlier and I’m pretty sure I was about to combust—it’s a real fire hazard.” You replied, enjoying the genuine joy that Tom is showing on his face. 
“Oh but we have to turn the lights on when we take pictures,” He commented as he put on the sweater. “Thanks, Y/N.” He said softly, surprising you with a hug. 
It’s the first real physical contact that you two had ever since that night when you made out and you were pretty adamant that people were just making up this notion of having butterflies in their stomach—they weren’t. 
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Tom’s roast dinner went surprisingly well. You kept teasing him that it’s Sam that you had to thank because you knew that Tom wouldn’t last in the kitchen without his brother’s instructions. Tom pouted the whole time. You eventually had to tell him 
“It was sweet.” You told him as you helped him clear out the plates. 
Tom was confused. 
“I don’t think I’ve known someone that went through hell and back just to make a great effort Christmas dinner —even if it means getting yelled at by your brother.” You said, smiling softly at him. “I mean it’s just us two, really. We don’t even have to do this.”
“Think that’s the reason why I wanted to do it,” Tom replied. Now you’re confused. “It’s because it’s the two of us—that’s why I wanted to do it.” 
As soon as you heard those words come out of Tom’s lips, you tried your best to stay calm. To say that you weren’t overwhelmed with emotions would be a huge lie. For someone who couldn’t hold their tongue, you were speechless. Tom’s giving you a run for your money and you weren’t exactly thrilled about it. 
After dinner, you and Tom opened your stocking presents. The presents were pretty tame at the start—you both got each other socks, which was hilarious but greatly appreciated. You love socks, especially comfy and cushiony ones. You came to learn that Tom does too, which prompted you two to wear the socks immediately. 
You got him candy canes, he got you chocolates. You also snuck in those small, in-flight alcohol bottles in there too—which he ended up loving. He got you those 10-pack skincare face masks, in which you let out a huge gasp, making him laugh. 
“Oh, we have to use this at some point!” You exclaimed happily “Like, we need to have a spa night—where we just watch movies, doing face masks, eating takeouts. Oh, that’s the dream!” You sighed happily. 
“We still have two weeks left till we go back to work, I'm sure we can find the time to do that,” Tom said with a permanent smile on his face, watching you with pure joy made him feel like he accomplished something big. 
You got him one of those Instax polaroid cameras—true, it was a bit too much for a stocking stuffer especially since the box definitely stood out against the stocking, but you figured he��ll like it. 
“Darling, this is too much but I’m thankful,” Tom commented as he took out the camera from the box. “I can’t wait to use this and keep memories using it—why don’t we start right now?! Let’s take a photo of us and our matching sweaters!”  
Tom took a lot of photos of you two, in the end. A couple of overexposed photos, one with the matching sweaters, one with your faces pressed against each other, one with your faces way too close to the camera, and one where he gave you a kiss on your cheek (he asked if that’s okay, of course, you said yes. it’s not like he hasn’t kissed you before— still no conversations about that, by the way). It was a good thing you got him at least 3 boxes of those 20 pack films in his stockings as well. 
The real kicker was Tom’s “small” stocking present for you. He got you this dainty, gold necklace with a crescent moon charm. You were pretty sure it was expensive because of the teal box it came with. 
“Stop,” You gasped “Tom, now this—this is too much.” You stressed out. “I can’t have this. Nope, you have to return this.”
Tom shrugged as if it was nothing. “You deserve it. Darling, you deserve something nice after this shitty year.” 
“Tom, I’m serious. This is too much.” 
“I’m serious too, Y/N. Keep it, please. I’d be offended if you don’t.”
After the roller coaster of emotions due to the stocking presents, you gave your parents a call to wish them a merry Christmas. They insisted to do a video call because they wanted to see Tom in the family sweater—which your mom wouldn’t stop gushing about. 
“I think your mum loves me,” Tom whispered closely in your ear. He didn't have to try too hard. With the laptop propped up on top of the coffee table, you two were sitting close together on the living room floor—knees touching, maximum close skin contact. CDC would never approve. 
“Yeah, I think it’s the accent,” You mumbled jokingly. 
Tom moved his head to take a good look at you, smiling. You could feel his eyes burning your skin. Why does he have to look at you like that? Why does he have to be this close?
The initial video call with your parents turned into a whole family reunion when you found out they set up a group call with your extended family. Imagine the dread and fear in your eyes when you heard your one aunt ask, 
“Finally, Y/N, is that your boyfriend?” 
Your eyes widened as you stuttered to say your defence, making Tom chuckle. You frowned at him and nudged him saying, “Don’t laugh, tell them no or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“No, unfortunately, I’m not,” Tom replied, laughing. “However, I do believe we make a cute couple, don’t we?” He teased, earning an earnest yes from your mom. 
You could only wish for the floor to swallow you whole. 
As the clocks rolled to twelve, it was officially Christmas. You and Tom figured you might as well start opening gifts again because Christmas Day is going to be a drag for the two of you. 
“Okay, start with this.” You said as you handed him a gift bag. You didn’t give him a lot of gifts for the actual Christmas Day because you went all out on the stuffers. 
“Pyjamas?” He asked with a grin. You made a signal for him to give you a minute. You ran to your room and changed into pyjamas. 
“Not just pyjamas, Tom, but matching pyjamas!” You exclaimed, laughing. “I saw it and figured we should do this for my day.”
“Sick!” Tom laughed. Tom got into his pair of pyjamas as well and of course, he didn’t forget to pull out his new polaroid camera to take a photo of you two. “Shit, I forgot to film our entire Christmas Eve.” He said as he saw the camera that was still sitting on the kitchen island from earlier that morning. 
You shrugged. “I’m pretty sure you’ll win either way. Just that content from the breakfast crepes was enough to secure your place.” You said jokingly.
“All I’m hearing is that you’re going to spend Christmas with me in London next year.” Tom sang teasingly. 
“Yeah, maybe bringing you to our big Christmas holidays is a bad idea.” You wondered out loud. 
“I like your family,” Tom commented with a smile “and I think they will love having me there for the holidays.” 
“That would be a nightmare.” You mumbled to yourself. 
The rest of the night dragged on. You and Tom finished the rest of your gifts—you got him a watch, he got you a vinyl player. You two managed to watch the first Harry Potter film before you called it a night. 
You were about to head into your room when you heard Tom say, “Mistletoe.”
“Hm?” You hummed, confused. He placed a finger under your chin and gently tilted your head. There you saw a mistletoe hanging by one of the light fixtures. 
“How did that even—” 
“Can I kiss you?” Tom asked, cupping the sides of your face. 
“Hm?” Tom was definitely giving you a run for your money. How can a girl with a speech turn speechless?
“Can I kiss you?” He asked more softly. All you could do was nod. For if you even dare to open your mouth, all of this would cease to exist.  
His lips gently touched yours and then soon moulded into one. It was soft, sweet—familiar. His lips were something you never thought about—at least not a lot but you craved it. You crave his lips, his touch, him. You were riding a new high and you thanked every single god that you were sober to remember this—because this, this is something you want to cherish. 
“You told me you’re tired of being alone,” Tom whispered against your lips. “You don’t have to be anymore. Not when you have me, not ever.”
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PERMANENT TAGLIST: @quaksonhehe @dark-infernal-instruments @trustfundparker @emsma11​ @tomshufflepuff​ @spider-babe​ @goodgirlgonetom​
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lustbile-archive · 4 years
Text
In The Cards
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HaechanxReader
Word Count: 3.7k
Summary/Warning: Smut. Best friend Haechan wants you to read his tarot :( warning! very beginner tarot knowledge. all card interpretations found on the app golden tarot
Request: can i request a bestfriend-to-lovers hyuck where he and the reader share their first time together?
This is the third installment of my week of halloween fics. Info about possible blurb night here
“Please?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s weird.”
“How is it weird?”
“Haechan seriously,” you finally turn to face him as you lay side by side on your bed, the pout and puppy eyes he wears on his face the exact thing you had feared to see as you knew he had his ways of convincing you no matter what, “you’re asking me to do a reading on your love life.”
“And how is that weird?” his voice pitches as he turns to mirror you, now with you both on your sides and your phones tucked under your respective pillows you have no choice but to stare into his warm eyes. His body is dramatically lax as he relaxes into the mattress, already ready to toss his body around obnoxiously if you decide to deny him again.
“You’re my best friend dude, it would be weird to see what the cards say about your possible romantic activities,” you were somewhat telling the truth. Yes, you thought it would be kind of weird to see what your cards had to say about his love life, the idea being weirdly intimate for you, but you also knew that there was a small part of you, an evil yet insecure little gremlin that had made a home in your heart a few months before, that would take whatever they say directly to heart. You never anticipated forming romantic feelings for the boy in front of you, actually when you and Haechan had first started getting close you stubbornly denied that something like that happening was possible, yet here you were stupidly infatuated with the boy who lays in your bed wrapped warmly in a worn hoodie with your heart trapped between his teeth, “that and I’m not even that good at doing readings yet.”
“An even better reason to do it,” he sits up with a jolt of energy making you return to your place on your back to watch him, “so even if you do my reading, like you said you’re not that experienced so we won’t take what they say to heart right? It can just be for fun.”
Your eyes squint in disbelief as you try to read the look on his face. Regardless of his words, you know it wouldn’t just be for fun. Haechan had made it kind of obvious on the few occasions that tarot readings, and things related to things of that nature, were brought up, that he truly did believe it. Haechan had a whimsy about him, a belief and willingness to believe in things outside of himself, things he couldn’t really explain, and usually you’d find it incredibly endearing, but now it just helped in raising your stress levels.
“Come on dude,” his head tilts back and his face scrunches as he tries to convince you, his determination unfortunately making a smile start to pull onto your lips, “I’m bored and the ambiance is way too sexy right now for us to not do some witchy shit.”
Again, like always, he was unfortunately right. It was late into the night, nearing 3 am, and a storm raged loudly outside. The storm being the exact thing that had locked Haechan in your room to begin with as it had knocked your power out an hour or so before the time he was meant to leave, so he had decided to stay instead. He had claimed it was because he didn’t want to bother with traveling in the storm, but you could easily pick out the softness behind his eyes when you casually mentioned not wanting to be alone in the dark.
Along with the steady storm, you had also gathered your collection of candles and scattered them lit around the room, that and the quiet sounds of Florence + The Machine and Fleetwood Mac playing from the small speakers connected to your phone only supported Haechan’s argument. You two had perfectly crafted the perfect atmosphere to ask questions to some other force, and you can’t help but kick yourself for putting yourself in such a position.
“Okay fine,” you finally respond hesitantly, a grimace on your face and you move to sit up as well. You hate the way your chest tightens at his reaction to your words, an excited jump bouncing him in the air as he leans over to the table you keep to the side of your bed. The idea that he just knows exactly where you keep your things dances tauntingly in your mind and you angrily push it down as you move to sit facing him with your legs crossed underneath you.
“Found ‘em,” he whispers as he rifles through the drawer, a quiet triumphant noise squeaking from his chest as he moves to sit back in front of you, mirroring the way you sit with a smug grin on his face.
“Shuffle them a couple times for me,” you say, motioning to the deck in his hands, and he does so immediately. His fingers work slowly and gently, the fear of damaging the deck floating around his form. He splits it a few times, shuffling them together in a neat stack before he hands them to you like a devious cat happily offering their owner a dead mouse, and you smile softly at his consideration for your things.
“I’m only gonna do a three card pull okay? Past, present, and future okay?”
“Yeah, yeah that’s cool,” he nods excitedly as he shifts around where he sits, his anticipation slowly gaining on him, “I’m cool with whatever.”
“Okay give me a question to ask while I shuffle,” you command, your hands holding the deck as you get ready to shuffle, “it can be as detailed or vague as you want, the cards should understand what we're asking.”
“I just wanna know…’’ he hesitates for a moment, his lips caught between his lips as he thinks, “love life I-.... hm… I guess I want to ask it to show me the path my love life will take.”
You only nod in response before your eyes fall closed. Your heart beat picks up and your hands shake slightly in your nervousness, but regardless you begin to repeat the question in your mind as your hands begin to move. ‘Show me the path of Donghyuck’s love life’ you speak to your cards as they dance between your fingers, your hands much more rough than Haechan’s.
His breathing is almost deafening as it's the only human sound that hits you as you work, and you hear it catch when your hands stop moving.
Your eyes open again, and with a deep breath you lean forward to spread the cards out in front of him in the shape of a fan, “pick three and put them in my hand,” you command again with your hand held out flat, “whichever three speak to you.”
“Okay,” he whispers, his fingers moving to hover over the cards and the way he holds himself he looks as if you’ve just asked him to take a standardized test. He jolts slightly before grabbing the card below his hand, and it's quickly placed on your palm. His reaction when picking the other two are not much different, and after a minute or two you have all three cards and you’re gently collecting and setting the remaining cards to the side.
“Okay,” you start as you shift to get in a more comfortable position, “we’ll start with past.”
He nods as you move to lay down the first card you were handed, the card revealing itself to be The Lovers, their naked bodies and the angel that lives behind them almost taunting you and making you tongue stick dryly to the roof of your mouth.
“Okay..” you trail off as you glance at the boy in front of you, his eyes going slightly wild at the sight of the card in front of him, “now present.”
Wanting to get out of the situation as quickly as possible, you lay the next card down, and before you now lay the two of cups. Another pairing of people to stare as you squirm.
“Finally,” you huff moving to lay down the last card, “future.”
With a soft thud, you place the card down, the naked woman that floats in the center of The World card is impossible to ignore. Haechan hums quietly in consideration, his head bobbing slightly as his eyes move across the spread before him. He looks pensive for a moment when he looks up at you, until a playful grin takes over his features.
“What does any of this mean?” he asks with a laugh.
“Well,” you start moving to grab the book you keep next to your pillow that hold the different descriptions of the cards, scolding yourself for still not having them memorized, “none of them are reversed so that that as a good sign, and none of them are The Tower so you’re not doomed to die alone I suppose.”
He laughs again as he watches you flip through the book, your eyebrows knitted together as you search for the first card.
“Okay so, your past is The lovers,” you start, one hand resting on top of the card as your eyes shift around the page, “it represents partnership, union, duality, and choice. This says it means a union of harmony, full of trust, confidence and strength, This relationship both a physical attraction and a deep emotional bond between them.”
You stutter slightly as you read, your eyes darting up to gage his reaction once the words leave your mouth, his face is soft but serious as he thinks, and you can’t help but get overwhelmed by the look.
“Okay, and then present,” you hand shifts to the Two of Cups while your other hand flips to the correct page, “this card means unity, partnership and two become one…” you trail off slightly, hoping Haechan only assumes it’s from you trying to read the page and not for the real reason that is the words in front of you makes you heart beat harshly against your chest, “signaling a union and partnership of balance, honor, and respect, The ancient symbol of the caduceus also suggests energy, passion, and sex, and the intermingling of opposite forces.”
“Oh,” he responds involuntarily as he absorbs the words you speak, and you can only wish that you could crawl into his mind and see exactly what he’s thinking.
“Okay and lastly, your future,” you shift again, your previous position suddenly not feeling comfortable anymore, “The World card represents fulfillment, harmony, and completion. It says, absolute unity, perfection, accomplishment that draws from inner and outer sources. This card signals the harmony of the inner and outer worlds, and reaching a level of enlightenment. An era of one's life is complete and there is joy and celebration that is coming to welcome it.”
With a soft smacking noise, you shut the book and place it back to its spot next to your pillow. Your words still linger in the air with a tension wrapped around them, and in your desperation to avoid Haechan’s eyes you begin to return the cards to the deck, a silent thank you being spoken in your mind as you thank them for their knowledge.
“So what do you think about that?” he asks, his voice softer than earlier, the tone making your eyes dart up to try and read the emotion on his face.
“It’s not about what I think Hyuck…” you place the hair tie that lives on your wrist around the deck to secure it and place it on top of the book, and when your done you lean back onto the palms of your hands to survey his body language while also creating more distance between you, “it was your reading so it’s your interpretation, what did that tell you?”
The words come out like you’re trying to cough up years worth of chewed gum and the way they clog your throat makes you feel weird. It may be up to his interpretation, but you can’t stop the way the cards and their meanings make you feel as they wrap a confusing combination of hope and terror around your fragile heart.
“I think,” he starts as he once again moves to mirror the way you sit, a soft but unsure smile on his face, “they told me exactly what I needed to hear.”
“And what was that Hyuck?”
“Well you know, the whole emphasis on partnership, and union, and choices. If anything i’m starting to think your cards like me a little bit cause they kind of told me exactly what I wanted to hear.”
“And what was it you wanted to hear Haechan?” you ask, his smugness and confidence making you laugh quietly.
“That I’m not putting my hope or my heart in the wrong place. I think it’s saying that I’m right in wanting the thing I want so badly.”
“Jeez Donghyuck,” you huff as you fall to lay back onto your side, a giddy feeling flooding you as he once again follows suit, “you speak in more riddles than the cards do.”
“Oh do you want me to tell you straight forward what those cards just told me?” he asks rhetorically as he lays close enough for his face to crowd you personal space, his breath occasionally hitting your skin.
“Well yeah, lay it on me Hyuck, what did those cards encourage you to do?”
“I’ll fucking lay it on you alright,” he doesn’t even give you the time to form the question in your mind of what he could possibly mean before he’s on the move. He’s on you before you can blink, his body pushing you onto your back and his hands landing against your bed next to your head and caging you in. Your body reacts before your mind does, and your hands are gripping his wrists and you legs are falling to the side to allow him to rest between your thighs, as he knocks the air from your lungs with his mouth pressing against yours.
You both let out matching hums in content at the feeling of each other’s lips. You’d call yourself a liar if you said you had never imagined what it would be like to kiss the boy that now rests on top of you, but no matter how many hours you had logged dreaming about the very moment, none of it prepared you for now.
He rests his body flush against yours as his lips work against yours, and there’s only a beat of time before his tongue is brushing against your bottom lip, begging for entrance.
You break away, the idea of him feeling the same way as you filling you with childish excitement and confidence, so much that you can’t stop yourself before you’re teasing, “so my cards told you to attack me?”
“Hush,” he pecks against your lips once before speaking again, “they told me I was completely in the right for being in love with my best friend, and that making a move would only end in happiness.”
“You’re in love with me?” you ask, those being the only words that stick in your mind, Your hands tighten around his wrists, and the skin of his face flushes in realization of what he said.
“Uh… yes,” his eyes are filled with his nerves as they lock onto yours. The internal debate he has with himself of wanting to tear his eyes away while being completely unable to is transparent and puts you at ease at the idea that he’s just as nervous as you, “I’m sorry if that’s really abrupt, but I really am.”
“Donghyuck,” you whisper, leaning up to nudge the tip of your nose against his, “I’m in love with you too.”
“Thank fuck,” he swears louder than intended, and you giggles of happiness is smothered by his lips latching to yours again.
There’s no asking this time as his tongue shoves its way into your mouth, and you let out a pleased groan when the moment he licks at the back of your teeth, his hips shift down and he begins to softly grind against the crotch of the thin fabric of your pajama shorts.
“Tell me,” he speaks between open-mouthed kisses that he places across you mouth and up your jaw, his words doing their own licking against the shell of your ear, “tell me if you want to stop, cause I don’t think I can.”
“I trust you Hyuck,” you whisper during the fleeting second that your mouth is free, “do whatever you want, I’m so in love with you.”
He groans loudly at the string of words that leave you, the noise cutting through and disrupting the smooth voice of Stevie Nicks and his body returns to rocking gently against yours.
Your hands trail away from his wrists, moving up his forearms and up until your fingers tangle in his hair. The slight tugging you give to his roots pulls another groan from his mouth, and the sparks of pleasure that hits your lower stomach at the sound combined with his hardening length pressing against you through the thick fabric of his sweatpants makes you feel like you could live in this moment forever.
You can feel your growing arousal spilling from you, the wetness making the fabric of your underwear stick to your skin, and at the feeling of him suddenly bumping gently against your clit makes you squeak as you hips begin meeting his thrusts with their own.
“Please,” you whimper out when his mouth latches onto the skin stretched over your jugular, “want it. Need you.”
“I’m gonna keep you up all night,” he growls the promise against your neck, “I have so much time to make up for.”
He sits up, a smile of pride on his face when you huff at the loss of him. You only get a few sounds of discontent out before his hands are grabbing at the fabric of your shorts, and shoving them down your legs, your ruined underwear following. The fabric is tossed behind his shoulder, and in his impatience, his hands are rough as they grab at your thighs. He pulls you, bringing you down the bed to be closer to him, before he’s pushing his own pants down to bunch at his hips, his tip brushing against you and making you jump as he slaps against his stomach.
You squirm as he returns to his place flush against you, both at the sudden feeling of the room’s air hitting your damp skin and the way his length glides against you. You can feel your arousal smearing against him, and in your desperation, you’re grabbing his face and pulling back down to meet your lips again.
Laying there, pressed as tightly together as you can be with your mouths devouring the other’s, you feel him reach between your bodies. His fingers only take a moment to dip into you, gathering your wetness on his fingers, before he’s using it to coat his length more than it already is.
He pulls at himself a few times, the moans he lets out at the friction being swallowed by you, before he’s pressing into you without warning.
The stretch and the idea of your best friend being the one that is so suddenly fucking into you has you reeling. You feel overtaken by the feeling of whiplash, and as he pushes into you inch by inch, you let out a moan that lived deep in your belly.
He pauses when he’s fully inside of you, the depth that he reaches as the girth of him making your eyes begin to roll wildly and before you can catch your breath his hips are retreating.
His pace is rough. He’s slow, and he doesn’t pull but a few inches out, but every time he returns to your body, it's a harsh thrust that knocks the air from your lungs.
It’s not long before you feel overwhelmed, the way the cozy heat from the candles and the thick fabric of his clothes as they brush against you licks at your skin and sinks you into the mattress. His mouth refuses to separate from yours, and his thrusts are consistent and unrelenting.
You’re sure you’ve never felt more held in your life as your wrapped up with your best friend, one of his hands moving to hold the side of your face while the other travels down to play with the sensitive nerves of your clit. The gentle way his hands move against you contrasted by the rough way he fucks into you has you clinging desperately to his hoodie as warm tears well up in your eyes.
One of your hands moves down as you get closer, your nails digging into the fabric that covers his ass as you desperately try to pull him closer than he already was. This and the way your hips start bucking against him makes him groan as you two get tangled in your sheets.
You feel the tingling warning of your orgasm running up your spine, a crackling moan feeding into his mouth from yours and the way you softly clench around him being his only warning before you come with a cry.
His hips stutter as he follows quickly behind, a very similar sound of bliss slipping from his mouth as you two begin to shake against each other.
You feel like you’ve been sewn into his skin as you twitch together with aftershocks, him equally as unwilling to separate his body from yours. Once he pulls his hand from between your bodies, his arms wrap tightly around your waist, and he pulls you tightly into his chest as he lays his full weight on you, and you legs wrap around him as you refuse to let him slip out of you.
“We’re going again in a minute,” his voice rasps as he presses his face into your shoulder, his nose nuzzling against the skin.
“Really?” You ask with a laugh as your hands return to their job of running through his hair.
“Yes I just need a minute,” he promises, and you shiver as his hips start to shift already without him even thinking, “it’s what your cards would have wanted.”
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imaginesupply · 4 years
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Homecoming - Chapter Five
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(Gif’s not my own.)
Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.
Genres: Romance, drama.
Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).
Notes:
It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.
This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.
English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.
Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.
Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.
Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.
Chapter Five starts after the cut. (Chapter Four can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in future chapters or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.
A/N: I am aware of the neutral, perhaps positive, portrait of the police I painted in this chapter. I am fully conscious of the recent (and not so recent) instances of police brutality happening all around the world, many – if not most – of them motivated by racism and other despicable ideologies. With this chapter, I did NOT mean to express support for the police forces. I simply had this ‘plot’ idea come to my mind and decided to write it. There is no ulterior motive.
While all my personal experiences with the police have been positive, I am aware that my ethnicity gives me privilege and that many people are not as lucky as I am. This both angers and saddens me. It has to change.
Black lives matter. Minority lives matter.
Chapter 5
Chapter warnings: Cockwarming, irresponsible driving (kind of), car accident (not serious), police (but no police violence), very mild violence, language (perhaps a little bit worse than in previous chapters but nothing you don’t hear in real life, I guess), mentions of mysogyny.
Ada yawned with Sy quickly following suit. “You can drive my car if you want, Sy. It’s not that new anymore, you know.” She offered, gracing him with the most angelic smile she could muster. It was the first time she was granting him the opportunity to drive her car.
Sy laughed next to her, his left hand moving over the center console to rub her thigh. He had that stupid grin again, that looking endearing with his current droopy eyes. “It’s your car, darlin’. Besides, you’d kill me if I ever so much as got a scratch on it.” He chuckled, suppressing another yawn. “And I know you’re only offering because you want to sleep.”
His wife gasped, a look of mocking offense on her features. “They’re your nephews!”
“But you were the one who said yes,” Sy countered, his eyes closing again as he made himself more comfortable on the car seat. The drive home was only about one hour and a half, but it was the perfect length for a nap.
“What the fuck was I supposed to say, huh?” Ada laughed, gesticulating wildly as was her habit. “Yes, Joshua, I understand you’re taking my pregnant sister-in-law to the hospital. No, I will not look after your kids for the night. It’s our date night.”
Next to her, Sy grimaced. She did have a point, even if he had been looking forward to going bowling with her: Ada was a sore loser which always ended with lots of fun for him. At least, his sister and the baby were okay. Just a normal case of Braxton Hicks, apparently, whatever that was supposed to mean. Perhaps it was good thing Ada didn’t want children because he’d freak out if she started having contractions four months in. “You fell asleep on Luke’s bed at one in the morning when you tried to get him to sleep for the third time and I had to spend the whole night entertaining them with tea parties because they wouldn’t tire!”
“Hey! That’s not cool!” She protested accusatorily, her eyes on the road as she switched lanes to take the next exit. “I didn’t know you couldn’t give kids sugar after a certain hour!”
Sy huffed, shaking his head. They’d had the great idea to bring donuts because according to his dear wife, sugar always made you feel better when you was anxious or down, and the kids had been aware something was off with their mom. “We suck at this parenting thing.”
“You don’t say!” Ada laughed, before loudly cursing at driver who’d just cut her off, something which never failed to make Sy smile. “The nap’s going to feel heavenly once we’re home.”
Sy hummed in agreement, his head falling back against the headrest as he drifted off, hiding his eyes from the sun with his cap. Ada glanced sideways at him, shaking her head. Part of her wanted to shake him awake. If she had to suffer, so did he. But he was right, she had slept more than him and he looked too peaceful to disturb, especially with some leftover glitter still on his cheeks.
Suddenly, there was a mild thump and the car stuttered before stopping, startling Ada who jumped on her seat.
"Shit!" She cursed. "Did I just...?" She began to panic, her eyes moving to the red car in front of them, too close. She had bumped it while she had been distracted by her husband’s stupid, sleepy face!
"Yes, yes you did," Sy laughed next to her. Ada was a good driver and she loved driving, but she was easily distracted and Sy never failed to tease her about it. This time, however, he could tell she was scared from the way her chest was heaving with her shallow breaths. "Want me to deal with it, darlin'?" He offered, tilting his head at the other driver who had just come out of the red, broken-down car.
"No!" Ada protested all too quickly, taking off her seatbelt and grabbing the necessary documents from the glovebox, accidentally hitting his knees in the process. "I am an independent woman who don't need no help," she muttered, trying to convince herself of her own statement. In the eight years since she’d had her gotten her licence, she had never given any of her cars a single scratch, let alone gotten into an accident.
Sy grinned at her antics but tried to hide his amusement, not wanting to make it worse. "All right. I'm here in case you need me, okay?" With a determined nod in his direction, Ada stepped out of the car and attempted to summon the Annalise Keating or the Olivia Pope inside her, whichever she could find in herself.
The man from the red car, who seemed to be in his early forties and balding, was already inspecting his vehicle for damage – looking mighty pissed as he did so. Ada approached the impact point from the other side, noticing the bump on the man’s old car. It didn't look too bad, she sighed with relief. Her own car barely had anything. Ha! She would have to use this as an argument next time Sy and her started discussing cars. Her black Citroën DS5 was sturdy and not just fancy looking, unlike what he said.
"Hello, sir," she said calmly, the man instantly looking up at her. Damn! He really looked furious, seething even. "I am so sorry for this. I was a little distracted- Anyway, it doesn't matter. My insurance will cover whatever repairs your car may require."
"You stupid little bitch!" The man shouted, out of the blue.
Ada gasped, backtracking. The muscles in her jaw twitched. What the fuck was wrong with him? "I understand your anger, but there's no-"
"What were you even doing behind that wheel?" He snarled, gesturing at her car, her baby. "Who the hell lets women like you drive cars like that?!” The man cursed, aggressively waving his hand in the air.
She just stood there, still in shock. Did... did he just bring misogyny into a fender bender situation?! "Women like me?!" She repeated, quite stunned.
"Aye! Bitches like you have no business driving-”
Ada flinched at the man’s words. He was starting to breech the distance between them, moving too close to her. Ada jumped again when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder before realizing it belonged to Sy and letting herself exhale slowly. Thank God he didn’t listen to her and stayed in the car!
"I get that you’re pissed, but that's no way to talk to a lady. You should to apologize," Sy told the man, making it sound very much like an order and very little like a suggestion. The driver huffed before coming closer, his face about as red as the car as when he started laughing. Ada instinctively hid under Sy's arm, though she aware of the ridicule of the whole situation.
"That's your whore? You let your whore drive your car?!"
Okay, this was going too far. It left her lips before she could help it, "that's my own goddamn car, you wanker!". Maybe it was time to stop borrowing insults from Tom.
Ada could almost hear how his jaw clenched when she felt Sy's whole body tense up against hers. "Call her a whore one more time and you're gonna wish she had run you over instead."
This was escalating. Ada bit her lower lip. She was going to have to be the bigger person here. "Look, I'll just go grab my phone from the car and call the police. They'll deal with this." Ada announced, dislodging herself from Sy’s grip before turning around to get to her car.
Her hand had just wrapped around the car door handle when there was a clouting noise, quickly followed by a loud thump, this time. Ada immediately turned around at the sound. The angry driver was out cold on the ground, blood rushing out of his nose and forehead, with Sy looking down at him, the same blood tainting his fist.
"Oh shit!"
°°°
A lanky guy, smelling heavily of pot, was thrown inside the almost full holding cell by the same officer who had arrested him. Sy was amused at the sight until the guy, after a full survey of the room, started walking him up to him before sitting down on the bench far too close for his liking.
Exhaling through his nose, Sy tried ignoring the smell and closed his eyes again. He didn’t expect the nap he had been looking forward to, to be in a stinky cell with stinky men but it would have to make do. At least, after the man sitting closest to the entrance had commented on the leftover pink glitter that still shone in Sy’s beard, nobody had bothered him anymore – not after he quite literally made the man piss himself with just one stare. That man wouldn’t have survived a single day in Baqubah.
"It's cramped in here," the new guy commented nonchalantly though his eyes were fixed on Sy. Out of politeness - damn Ada and her insistence on good manners! - Sy acknowledged his useless statement with a noncommittal hum.
"Name's Ben, by the way," he said, stretching out of his hand but Sy didn’t move a muscle. What was it in his current posture - crossed arms and spread legs - that made him appear friendly enough for a chat, he wondered, rolling his eyes behind his closed eyelids.
"And you are...?"
Sy groaned out loud time. "Not interested."
Ben didn’t get the hint and proceeded to ramble off about how he got caught selling pot near the university. Sy was actively working on drowning out his voice when the sound of fast and angry clicking heels on the concrete floor caught his attention. He smiled. Ada. Apparently, she hadn’t changed and was still dressed for date night, wearing a dress and stilettos, even though they had only meant to go bowling and eat at a steakhouse.
Somehow, everyone in the holding cell must have been intrigued by the same sound because all conversation suddenly stopped, the men all hoping to eavesdrop.
"I am here for Syverson. I wish to talk to him."
"Ma'am, I apologize but we are not allowed to let him out of his cell."
"Not a problem. Just give me the keys and I'll let him out myself!"
Every person in the holding cell laugh with Sy grinning quietly, amused at how she sounded distinctively more foreign when she was mad. He was used to her accent in more intimate settings, but he was enjoying the sound of it during her current outburst which was followed by an uninterrupted string of curse words and insults alike, all coming from her delicate mouth. First, in English, then French. Spanish. Portuguese. Italian. Sy frowned at the last one, he didn’t recognize it. Was it German? He'd have to ask her.
"What a woman, huh," the guy next to him deadpanned, still not giving up on a conversation.
Silence fell again as everyone attempted to listen to the rest. “I swear to God I’ll hang your heads up in my living room if –“
Sy only huffed, leaning back against the cold wall. "You can't even begin to imagine."
"You know her?" The pothead quipped up.
"Yeah," Sy replied. "She’s my wife." He said it loud enough to make sure everyone was able to hear it.
“Oh,” came the nasal voice next to him just as they heard heavy, resigned footsteps become louder.
A different policeman stopped just behind the door, a colleague just behind him as he fished out the right key from his pocket. “Syverson,” he called out loudly. “There’s a woman here for you.”
Sy got up at once, unable to hide his smug smirk. Ada always got her way.
°°°
“What the fuck were you thinking, Sy?!” His wife blurted out as soon as she was let inside the interview room, the young officer locking the door from the outside. Then, turning around, she caught sight of her husband handcuffed to the table and her shoulders instantly slacked, her anger vanishing almost instantly. “What you did was disproportionate,” she sighed, her voice calmer as she took a seat in front of him, the cold iron table separating them.
"He called you a whore, I just punched him!" Sy protested, leaning back on the chair. "My response was disproportionate - disproportionately small."
"You knocked him out cold!" Ada reminded him, her voice pitching higher than usual but the only response she got from Sy was a smug grin. "He might press charges, you know. It's battery."
Sy rolled his eyes, sitting up straight. "He’s an asshole."
Now, it was her turn to roll her eyes although she knew he hated it when she did that. She took a deep breath, hoping to calm down. Sy was looking entirely unbothered, but she was freaking out at the situation. "I'll try to convince him not to press charges and offer to cover the medical bill on top of the car repairs in return."
"Medical bill?" Sy asked, cocking his eyebrow.
"Yes. After the police took you into custody, he was brought to the hospital. From what I heard, he has a broken nose, needed stitches on his forehead and got a concussion." Sy only huffed with a smirk. "This is not funny, Syverson!"
"It wasn't funny when he called you a whore either," Sy countered. He was right. It was also very pleasant to see that dickhead in pain, but she wouldn’t tell him that.
"Look, my friend, Gale, who's a lawyer, is on her way. I'll get you out of here tonight. He’ll either agree to drop the charges or I’ll bail you out."
The corners of his lips twitched. He moved his hands as much as the chain allowed, to grab hers and squeeze them in his large ones. "Are you worried about me, darlin'?"
What a teasing little shit he could be! Of course, she was worried about him! He was in a cell! Feigning innocence, Ada smiled, running her thumbs over the back of his hands. "I am not. However, seeing what you did to that prick just got me really horny and I would like to have you back in my bed tonight," she whispered, watching as her husband’s smug grin slowly disappeared as she got up and grabbed her purse, heading to the door.
"You better get me out of here quickly!" Sy called after her.
°°°
He was returned to the holding cell, the officer uncuffing his wrists again once the bars closed behind him. There were two new faces, but he also recognized that at least three men had left already. Unfortunately, pothead was still there.
“I saved you your spot,” Ben smiled wildly, gesturing at the vacant portion of the bench next to him. “The guy in the red shirt was going to sit here but I told him it was occupied.”
Sy merely hummed, taking the seat that had so generously been saved for him. Hopefully Ada would get him out quickly because he didn’t know how much longer he could deal with his chatty neighbour.
“Was she mad?” Ben asked, whispering loudly and defeating the entire purpose of a whisper in the first place. “Did she yell at you?”
Despite his closed eyes, Sy could feel Ben’s stare on him as he awaited an answer. “No.”
Ben nodded thoughtfully, shaking the uneven bench as he did so. “If we go to prison, I want to share a cell with you.”
If Ada didn’t get him out of there quickly, he was soon going to get charged for battery again.
°°°
Sy stood by the counter, his attention on the ugly Christmas decorations he hadn’t noticed when they brought him in hours earlier. Somehow, he had managed to forget all about it. And fuck, he still needed to get Ada a present!  
“Here are your things,” the young officer told him as he slid over a transparent plastic bag.
With a curt nod, Sy ripped it open and fetched his wedding band first, before looking for his wallet and belt. He was already heading to the door when he turned around at the last minute. “Did Mrs. Syverson post my bail?”
“No, the charges were dropped.”
Huffing with amusement and a hint of pride, Sy zipped up his coat and headed to the front door. He swiftly descended the stairs in front of the precinct, his face illuminating at the sight of her. She was still wearing the black dress and the fancy shoes, her makeup now lightly smudged around her eyes.
As soon as he was close enough, his hands moved to Ada's waist and he leaned down to kiss her, only for her to pull away at his touch. "Not so fast, big guy," she teased, a glint in her eyes as she grabbed something out of her coat pocket he couldn't yet identify. "You're still in trouble."
Sy threw back his head, his laugh booming through the night sky as he finally saw what she was holding up in front of him. Handcuffs, and not the fluffy ones either.
"Now gimme your hands," Ada demanded, making him cock his brow at her authoritative tone.
With a chuckle he obeyed, presenting her his hands. "Yes, ma'am."
Sy watched keenly as she fumbled with the cuffs to get them around his wrists, and then seized the right opportunity to take the upper hand, easily taking the cuffs away from her small hands.
With a shriek, Ada found herself bent over the black hood of her own car, her cheek pressed up against the slick surface and her husband's body pressed up against hers. She could hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke. "Mrs. Syverson, you're under arrest for unlawful teasing back in the questioning room." Ada scoffed, the sound weakened by his heavy weight on top of her. "You have the right to remain silent. Everything you do say can and will be held against you in-"
"Your dick!" Ada suddenly blurted out, a little too loud given where they were, and Sy immediately stopped, clearly surprised, but she quickly felt him laugh against her back.
Before she could join him, Sy smacked her ass, effectively silencing her. "Guess I'll have to fuck that attitude out of you," he grunted before pulling away and fastening the cuffs around her wrists.
Ada kept complaining as he carefully dragged her inside the car. Despite her struggling, Sy easily opened the right backdoor and threw her on the backseat, mindful to fasten her seatbelt before closing the door. Her eyes widened and her mouth went agape when Sy sat down behind the steering wheel and proceeded to push back the driver’s seat and readjust all the mirrors.
“Are you shitting me?” She exclaimed, leaning forward on her seat as much as the belt would allow. He was messing up with all her settings and the grin on her face made it very clear that he was doing it all on purpose just to get her riled up.
“Language, darlin’,” he chided, turning on the engine. “Didn’t you ask me to drive earlier, anyway?”
Ada groaned in response, shutting her eyes tightly before opening them again. “You know very well that was-“
Sy didn’t let her finish, the tires squealing on the tar as he sped out of the parking lot all too fast. Ada involuntarily cringed at the noise. “I’ll make you pay for this!”
“We’ll see, kitten. We’ll see.” He was entertaining by her determination even though her eyes were already closing.
As expected, Ada fell asleep within five minutes despite the handcuffs keeping her arms in an uncomfortable position. Her head lolled before it finally came to rest against the window. He watched her though the central mirror, an adoring look in his blue eyes as she sighed contently the very moment she had fallen asleep. While he had managed to rest while in the cell, though not as much as he had hoped, he knew Ada had been up all afternoon trying to sort everything out and get him out. Sy had noticed her exhaustion as soon as she started fumbling with the handcuffs, her movements uncharacteristically clumsy.
He stopped at a junk food drive thru on their way home – night had already fallen and he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. He doubted she had either. Her eyes didn’t even flutter under the bright neon lights and once he parked the car on their driveway and went to carry her inside along with their food, after undoing the cuffs, her body was completely limp in his arms. It was only when he accidentally let her shoulder hit the doorframe as he tried to lead them inside their bedroom, that she woke up again. “Ouch!”
“Sorry,” Sy murmured and kissed her forehead before laying her down on the bed and setting down the bag on the mattress next to her. Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed the air even as he helped her out of her coat and dress, and then the shoes. “Did you get us food?”
“Tenders and fries.”
Within an instant, she had ripped the bag open and was clutching the bucket of chicken to her chest, moaning as soon as she took a bite. He smiled knowingly at her– she had been hungry after all.
Hurriedly, Sy took off his clothes and slid in bed behind his wife, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer to him. They hadn’t slept together the previous night as they babysat the kids and he had missed the feel of her soft body against his. A content hum escaped him as his already partially hard cock nestled against the roundness of her ass.
Ada chuckled at his reaction, the vibrations of her body sending sparks of pleasure to his growing erection. “I have an idea,” she whispered, her voice becoming seductive again as she started rubbing herself against him.
Sy groaned deeply and tightened his grip on her waist, forcing her to still even though he was no longer sure for what he now hungered more; food or his wife. “We’re both hungry and exhausted,” he reasoned with her, his fingers moving some hair away from her neck so that he could kiss her there.
“Let me,” she insisted, a grin audible in her voice. Her hands disappeared under the bedsheets and she slid off her panties before retaking her initial position as the little spoon. Behind her, Sy groaned as her delicate fingers took hold of his cock, giving it a few pumps before guiding him inside her warmth. He muffled a soft moan against neck at the snug feeling of tight her walls, his arm tightening around her again. She let out a quiet gasp at the stretch, it hurt a little despite her still being sufficiently wet from when he had pushed her against the hood of the car. But once he was fully inside, Ada sighed at the pleasure of being again. “Now we can eat.”
°°°
There are two more chapters to go! Next chapter will include Christmas tree decorating. I am running behind on schedule so I cannot guarantee the last chapter will be posted by Christmas but I’ll do my best.
°°°
@colourmeinblue​ @hail-horror-queen​ @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl​ @kmuir1​ @madbaddic7ed​ @coffeebreathy​ @purplelove75​ @summersong69​ @helenaellie​
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thetomorrowshow · 4 years
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Slower Than Words Epilogue
First  -  Previous
Yep, this is it :’’’( The very end. I most certainly teared up a bit while writing it. Thank you all so much for reading, sharing, and commenting. I still have trouble believing how many people actually like my writing, but you all have never dropped your support. I really mean it when I tag ‘love you guys’ on every chapter.
If you want to see any of my other works, Here is my AO3! 
Thank you again for sharing this journey with me. And now, on to the finale!
cw: flashback from an outsider’s pov, food
~
“Everything’s fine? The move went well?”
“Dad, we’re fine,” Patton replied, smiling at the camera. Logan shifted uncomfortably on the other end. “Really, we’re good. The neighbors even brought over some banana bread.”
His father flinched at the mention of neighbors, then forced a smile onto his face. “That’s . . . very kind. Of them. To do that.”
“Yes, it is,” Patton encouraged.
Logan hadn’t been able to take enough time off work to come visit them yet, so it had been five months since they had seen each other in person. They video chatted every day, but Father always seemed on edge. As time passed, he didn’t appear to be getting much better at all with the distance. Remus would sometimes sit in on the calls, and he seemed happy with Father’s progress, but Patton couldn’t help but compare him to the man he’d grown up with. Where was the quiet strength, the soft smiles, the feeling of protection?
Patton didn't blame him, though. They had all changed. It was part of life, and growing, and learning. Nothing stayed the same, and that was okay.
“How are you and Virgil?” Father asked, as he always did. Patton laughed a little.
“We’re good,” Patton signed. “I told you that we’re doing therapy together, right?” Logan nodded. Patton nodded as well. “Yeah, it’s cheaper. And we’re learning a lot.”
“And no fights between the roommates?”
“We . . . we did just move in yesterday.”
Logan raised his eyebrows. “Well, there are four of you,” he signed. “Who knows?”
“Since it’s only two bedrooms, Remus and Roman have decided to share too,” Patton told him, “but Virgil and I are pretty sure that won’t last long. They have a deal to trade between the bed and the air mattress every other week, but Virgil thinks it won’t even be one week before one of them drags the air mattress into the living room.”
The room shook a bit and Patton looked up to see Virgil closing the front door behind him. He kicked off his shoes and propped his white cane up in the corner behind the door, before turning his head from this way to that, listening.
“I’m on the couch,” Patton called out. Father jumped at the sound of his voice, but tried to play it off as straightening his collar.
Virgil waved in the direction of the couch, then promptly tripped over Roman’s dress shoes. Patton giggled when he signed a curse as well as saying it out loud.
Virgil paused by the couch, well in view of the laptop that Patton was video chatting on. Father began talking (probably a greeting) as Patton hopped up to kiss his boyfriend. Virgil smiled, said something in response to Father, then headed toward the kitchen.
Patton checked to make sure his phone was on. Remus had been the one to do the shopping, and who knew how he had thrown everything into the cupboards and fridge. It was a little after noon, so Roman would probably be home soon to help Virgil find food, but if he didn’t want to wait Virgil would take a picture of the contents of the fridge and text it to Patton so that he could tell him the locations of each thing.
“How is everything for you? Remus says he won’t hesitate to drive down there if you don’t take care of yourself.”
Logan smiled softly. “I assure you, I am quite all right,” he waved. “I am even attending therapy.”
“That’s—” Patton dropped his hands as he glanced back at his phone, which had just buzzed. The notification wasn’t a text message, though. It was from the app that all of them had, the one that called for help. The notification was from Virgil. His heart dropped, just as it always did.
“I’ve got to go, goodbye,” Patton signed quickly. He’d closed the laptop before Father even finished his farewell. Then he was up and off to the kitchen, which luckily was only a few steps away from the living room.
Virgil was crouched on the floor, a container of food open in front of him. His hands covered his face and his whole body was trembling, tension in every line.
Patton froze for a moment, scared. What could he do? He had no idea what had triggered Virgil, or if they had any ice cubes to use to snap him out of it, or if he would even be able to bring him back by himself. But the moment of uncertainty passed, and Patton dropped to his knees beside the shaking man.
It was easy to kick the leftovers away, less easy to maneuver Virgil into his arms. Once they were sort of comfortable on the floor, Patton began tracing soothing words into Virgil’s arm. It wasn’t instant, but soon enough Virgil began to calm down, eventually breathing in a steady rhythm.
“You okay?” Patton asked quietly. Virgil shrugged, gripping his jeans as his legs continued to shake. Patton held him closer, a hand rubbing his back soothingly.
Don’t let go, Virgil wrote tremulously onto Patton’s arm.
I never will.
When Roman arrived home, slinging his backpack onto the card table that made up their dining room, he found them still that way, curled up in each other on the tiled kitchen floor. He made a mental note to later ask what had happened, quietly picked up the container of food, then retreated to his and Remus’s bedroom.
-
Remus pushed open their bedroom door, ready to just flop onto whichever bed was Roman’s. Lucky him, Roman was already stretched out there, a container of leftover pasta and a plastic fork beside him. He looked up from the food and smiled cautiously.
“Hey,” he said. “How was therapy?”
Remus shrugged.
Roman winced. “Is that . . . not something I’m supposed to ask about? Virgil’s usually okay with talking about it a bit, but—”
“Nah, it’s . . . whatever.” Remus dropped to the mattress on the floor, toeing off his socks. “Didn’t really say anything, but that’s group therapy for ya. Not talking doesn’t waste anybody’s time.”
Roman was quiet for a moment, and Remus glanced at him. He looked like he was thinking—always a first time for everything, Remus supposed. As soon as Remus had pulled his phone out of his pocket, Roman spoke.
“Do you think that, possibly, I could come with you? Next time?”
Okay, apparently there was a first time for everything. Remus frowned and dropped his phone, looking at the wall.
Roman was quick to backtrack. “I mean, I know that I didn’t go through all that . . . stuff . . . that you did, but . . . I don’t know. Maybe as support for you?”
“Is this still about you punching me?” Remus asked, eyes narrowed. “Because I told you, we’re cool.”
Roman shrugged awkwardly, his face turning red. “Yeah, I just want to help you in any way that I can. Also, Virgil thinks that I might be developing secondhand trauma?” he added, grimacing. “So I thought that perhaps I could benefit from it. And learn more ways to help all of you.”
“Roman, that’s. . . .” He wanted to say ‘very thoughtful’ or ‘selfless’ or ‘good thinking’. What came out of his mouth, though, was “expensive.”
Roman looked away, and now it was Remus’s turn to backtrack. “I mean, I did just get that job,” he said quickly, “and I’d love to help ya out in any way that I can. I even wouldn’t mind giving up therapy, if you think you wanna try it out. I don’t need it that bad.”
Roman laughed, and Remus relaxed fractionally. “Don’t worry,” he said, turning back to his pasta. “Mom and Dad are willing to pay for half of it, and I can cover the rest if I cut down my meal plan. After all, we’re buying plenty of food. I don’t need twenty-one meals a week.”
“You sure? After all, you’re walking an extra two blocks to campus,” Remus reminded. “You need all the strength you can get, for such a journey!”
Roman threw a pillow at him. “Shut up,” he chuckled, then frowned. “And give that back.”
Remus shoved the pillow under himself and smirked. “Too late.”
Instead of fighting for it back, Roman just smiled softly and twirled his fork in the pasta. “Yeah. That’s okay, though.”
-
Virgil breathed in as he woke, feeling the warmth of the sun on his arm that rested above the blankets. It wasn’t quite time to get up, then. If it was, the sunlight that filtered through the gap in their blinds would have reached his face.
He lay there for as long as he could, burrowing deeper under the blankets and into Patton’s arms. The softness of his nightshirt rubbed against his nose and cheek, and Virgil sighed contentedly. This was everything.
Yesterday’s flashback had been bad (who even gets triggered by the sound of a container opening?), but Patton had been there. Moving had been hard, but Patton had been there. Therapy was hard, but Patton was there.
It wasn’t just Patton, either. Roman was taking many of the same classes that he was, despite not needing all of them. Remus was willing to drive him just about anywhere, even to a park just to sit in silence for hours. Patton’s dad, for some reason, regularly called him to check up on him. Roman’s parents cared for him like he was another son. Even Roman’s on-and-off boyfriend, Janus, dropped by to hang out sometimes.
So, Virgil had a pretty good support group. On the days when he felt like just giving up, there was always someone to help him up. Just like he was there for the others. They all loved and supported each other, in their own ways.
Patton’s breathing shifted with a snuffle, followed by him nestling his face into Virgil’s hair. A moment later, he was tracing on Virgil’s arm.
Hey you.
Virgil didn’t even try to muffle the giggle that escaped. The ray of sun had reached his head, warming his dark hair. The alarm would be going off at any minute, but for now, he was happy to be in his boyfriend’s arms.
Date tonight? he asked, his fingers moving slowly on Patton’s arm. At the smoothie place, with Roman and Janus?
Sounds good!
Virgil placed his hands on Patton’s chest, meeting his lips for a slow kiss. When they parted, he relaxed back into his love’s arms, unabashedly snuggling. The alarm clock would have to grow arms and pry them apart to get him out of bed.
Old Virgil would have scoffed, unimpressed at his thirst for human contact. Old Virgil wanted to be alone.
As long as it was Roman, and Remus, and Mr. and Mrs. Allred, and Logan, and Janus, and Patton—wonderful, beautiful Patton—Virgil didn’t think he would mind it if he was never alone again.
~ Taglist: @enragedbees @gotta-love-alejandra @bunny222 @basiic-emo @patt0n-sanders @rosiepupper @fangirlgeekandfreak @dn-fan21 @that2000skid @remy-the-lemon-berry @itsadastraperaspera @xionbean @sanderssides-angst @hell-yea-we-gay-tonight @maybedefinitely404 @broken-pencils @thewhimsicallibrarytech @doomllily @hereissananxiousmess @judyismydog  @arodynamic-enby @at-that-one-nerd @therapysides @awkwardandanxiousfander @thekitchenpan @im-an-anxious-wreck @larkiaquail @anteonnix @fantasticfander21 @007ardra
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mollymauk-teafleak · 3 years
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The Problem with Magic Markers
Soooo Critical Role campaign 2 just ended, I've got major brain rot over it and my wonderful gf gave me a wonderful idea for a fic so! This happened! A gift to @spiky-lesbian who came up with this adorable concept and is just generally an all round wonderful person who deserves the world. Also huge thanks to my ever patient, ever helpful beta reader @minky-for-short
If you liked it too, please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3!
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Mollymauk is so proud of Caleb in so many ways and, now they have their lovely lives with their wonderful children, he finds more reasons to be every day.
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Mollymauk Tealeaf had learned many things since he’d become a parent, now five years ago. A short amount of time, he’d used to think, but plenty of time to obtain a lot of knowledge you never thought you were ever going to need in your life.
Like how sandwiches cut into triangles were disgusting but sandwiches cut into squares could be eaten by the hundreds. Like how to make a bath appealing to a toddler with the liberal addition of bubble bath and a willingness to get absolutely soaked playing Sharks with them. Like how a scraped knee and bumped forehead could be cured with his cuddles and kisses alone, like how a promise from him that everything was going to be okay was enough to make it so.
And how silence was very, very worrying.
So when Mollymauk walked past his son and daughter’s room and heard only silence, when he knew for a fact they were in there, he stopped dead. He put any thoughts of getting to go and spend some time with his sewing kit out of his mind. Because he’d been a parent long enough to know that something was up, two five year olds weren’t that silent unless some game was afoot, something they didn’t want their parents to know about. Which meant he should probably at least poke his nose in.
So he knocked lightly on their door, the one covered in whichever drawings they were most proud of that week and a hand painted sign Jester had made for them the day they were born, prettily proclaiming ‘Trinket and Una’s Room!’ amongst a flock of miniature unicorns.
“Sweetlings?” he called gently, “Mind if I come in?”
There was a sudden scrabbling from behind the door and he heard a muffled grunt from Una before Trinket answered hurriedly, “Um...yes! Okay daddy!”
Raising a curious eyebrow, Molly pushed the door back, disturbing the usual scattering of toys left on the floor like the aftermath of a felt based battle. Although it did seem like there was more mess than usual…
Trinket stood in the middle of the room between their two little beds, his backpack at his feet and an expression of perfect innocence on his face that was just a little too polished to be anything but an act. Molly had to admit he’d probably learned that from him.
“Well hello there, little man,” he leaned in the doorway, smiling crookedly, “What game are we playing today?”
Trinket shuffled his feet, “Um...packing?”
“That sounds like a fun game,” Molly’s gentle concern upgraded to full blown wariness, “And where’s your sister?”
Trinket turned a deeper shade of purple, looking down at his fidgety feet that were poking more holes in his innocence by the second, “Um...she...um…”
Which was the point Una helpfully chose to poke her little head out of the backpack, dark eyes blinking curiously and ears flapping, trilling, “Here daddy!”
Trinket flushed guiltily, frowning at her, “Una! I said you had to stay shh!”
Molly took a breath, wandering over to sit down on Trinket’s bed. As his eyes swept around the room, he noted a great deal more chaos in the room. Almost like someone had been going through the toy box and the drawers and bookshelves, hurriedly pulling things out, making quick decisions about what to abandon and what to stuff into a little blue, dinosaur patterned backpack. Molly supposed he should at least be grateful that Trinket saw his sister as worth taking.
“Why don’t you talk to me, babies?” he offered gently.
Trinket swallowed, eyes darting around nervously before the last of the fight went out of his narrow little shoulders and he mumbled, “Daddy...can I tell you a secret?”
Molly had to smile. This was almost a running joke between the three of them, his kids running up excitedly to tell him they had a secret for him before whispering into his ear about some apparently very cool bug they’d seen or that Uncle Caddy had snuck them an extra cookie or that he was the best daddy ever. He loved being brought into their world where everything was brighter and more exciting and there was fun to be found in the smallest things. And where everything was felt so much more keenly.
“Of course you can, sweetling,” he murmured gently, patting the bed beside him, “You can always tell me secrets. Whatever it is, I promise we can make it better together.”
As Una rolled out of the backpack, apparently unconcerned and rather enjoying herself, Trinket clambered up beside him and stood so he could whisper into his ear. Molly tucked his purple curls behind one ear, smiling encouragingly.
Voice already trembling, Trinket leaned in and murmured, “I messed up Papa’s coat.”
Molly absorbed that in silence, feeling his son’s anxious red eyes on him. He leaned back, keeping his face carefully neutral before taking a long, deep breath through his nose, marshalling his thoughts.
“Trinket, I’m not going to lie to you here. We might be in trouble.”
His opinion didn’t change when he actually saw the coat. The coat his husband had been wearing as long as he’d known him and refused to be regularly seen without, no matter how many attempts Molly had made to buy him a newer, less ragged, less musty smelling version. It was more a comfort blanket than just clothing, stained and scorched from numerous spells and spills, old leather worn shiny from overuse. He hadn’t said so in so many words but it didn’t take a genius to guess that Caleb had worn it since before he came to the city. Which meant it had probably come from his parents. And though it was old and faded and stained today, it must have been new when he got it, a costly garment for people like the Ermendruds. The sort of gift that would only be given if your only son was leaving home to join the Academy and wanted to show him how proud you were.
A lot of Caleb’s life was like that. Even as his husband, Molly found himself having to piece things together from passing comments and turns of phrase, things that dulled his love’s eyes and tightened his jaw. Molly had about a quilt and a half’s worth of assumptions and semi-finished anecdotes by this point, telling of a sad and fractured timeline.
But he knew enough to see what the coat meant to Caleb and the place it held in his husband’s black and white, yes or no, yours and mine way of thinking.
The coat that now had a minor gallery’s worth of doodles and drawings scribbled in magic marker across the sleeves and all the way down the back. And if he wasn’t comfortable with Molly washing the thing, he wasn’t going to be okay with this.
Trinket had been fretfully watching his daddy since he’d first pulled the coat out from where he’d guiltily stashed it under his bed. As Molly’s mutely horrified silence dragged on, he only became more and more anguished until he was barely in tears, wringing his tail between his pudgy fists.
“I only wanted to make it pretty,” he whimpered, “Papa will hate me. I won’t be his special boy any more.”
Molly looked up at him, reaching out and putting his hand on Trinket’s shoulder, “Oh sweetling, your papa loves you a lot, you know this isn’t going to change that.”
But he couldn’t stop thinking about the times he’d picked up a pen from Caleb’s desk without thinking much of it, doodling with it until he’d looked up to see his husband gaping at him in scandalised horror. Or the times he’d stolen sips from Caleb’s drink when they were at the cafe, the same way he’d do to any of his friends, but Caleb would frown if he caught him, unable to understand why Molly was taking his coffee?
It was just part of the way his brain functioned, the rules it spat out after absorbing years of poverty and trauma, along with some different wiring that had simply occurred naturally. Mollymauk had learned a long time ago how to fondly work with these Caleb-isms, making concessions where it was best to and encouraging his wizard to gentle the restrictions his brain built when he needed to. It was like tending some kind of creeping vine in a garden, the way he saw it. Sometimes things needed moving aside so it could flourish and sometimes it needed pruning so it didn’t strangle the flowers around it. Caleb had been as brave as Mollymauk could have wished in managing his idiosyncrasies and sometimes he just had to sit back and admire how different the Caleb he lived with today was from the anxious, mumbling wizard he’d first met.
But how much patience he’d be able to muster when it was one of his favourite things in the world, Molly couldn’t say. But he wasn’t looking forward to telling him about it.
“Should I go?” Trinket’s lower lip wobbled, glancing back at his half packed bag, which Una was back inside, the front half this time as she munched away on some snack he must have stashed in there.
“Absolutely not, your papa would never want that,” Molly squeezed his shoulder gently, “We’re going to put the coat in to soak so we can get all this ink out and then we’re going to find him and I’ll tell him what’s happened. But you need to be the one who says sorry, okay?”
Trinket nodded frantically, still clinging onto his tail for comfort, “I am sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”
“I know, buddy,” Molly drew him close and hugged him tight, hating to see him so upset, “But we’ll be laughing about this before long, you’ll see.”
Maybe if he said it confidently enough, he’d start to believe it too.
Caleb wasn’t hard to find for a number of reasons. For one, their apartment was very small and there were only a handful of rooms to look in. But more importantly, it was late afternoon on a day where Caleb didn’t have any reason to go down to the Academy and fulfill his duties as an adjunct professor and when his bookshop was closed, as it was once a week. Which meant there was only one place he would be, in his half of their spare room, either playing one of his video games or reading.
Molly wasn’t quite sure what they’d do when one of their kids decided they wanted their own room and were tired of sharing, meaning Caleb would have to store his books and he’d have to store his sewing somewhere else. Or if they had another kid. He’d been toying with that idea in the back of his mind lately.
Maybe best not to float that idea with Caleb right after this.
Mollymauk could feel Trinket in his arms, his offer to pick him up and carry him having been immediately, breathlessly accepted. He could sense him getting more tense, more anxious, growing heavier against him as Molly knocked lightly on the door.
“Ja, come in,” Caleb’s response was immediate, not even needing to ask who it was or having to pause over whether he wanted to see them.
When Molly went in, Caleb was in the old, ratty wingback chair they’d liberated from some sidewalk when they’d first moved in, Molly announcing teasingly that a future professor needed some grand leather throne from which to smoke a pipe and pontificate. Caleb had blushed and rolled his eyes, not even believing back then that one day he would get the job he’d always dreamed of having, thinking trauma and past hurts had stolen it from him.
So now Molly always got a small flush of pride when he saw his Caleb sitting in that chair.
His hair was getting a little longer these days, it’s auburn tangles pulled into a small knot at the crown of his head so it wouldn’t fall in his eyes. His beard was growing a little thicker too, more than the usual rusty shadow that dusted his jawline. Molly absolutely was not going to be complaining about any of that, he liked his husband looking a little more rough around the edges like when they’d first met.
As soon as he saw them, Molly with Trinket balanced on one hip, Caleb’s face lit up with a smile. His smiles had been rare once upon a time but now just the sight of his family was enough.
“Hello,” he set the book he’d been reading to one side, already expecting Trinket to want to sit on his lap like always, “How are my loves?”
Near Molly’s ear, Trinket whimpered mournfully and pressed his face against his daddy’s neck. It was more than an ache to listen to, Trinket idolised his papa, following him around whenever he could, listening devotedly as he explained his work even when it wandered far off the track that his little mind could understand. Molly had no doubt the attempt to brighten up his coat had been a genuine attempt to make him smile and he couldn’t imagine how much it was hurting his little boy, to think he’d upset the man he looked up to more than anyone.
Caleb’s smile dulled a little, seeing Trinket hesitate, immediately realising they weren’t here for playtime, “What’s wrong?”
Molly exhaled slowly, carefully keeping his voice calm and level, “It’s okay babe, Trinket just...did something he wants to apologise for.”
“Oh?” Caleb frowned a little, eyes still fixed on Trinket, arms still open.
Molly opened his mouth, ready to do the hard part but before he could, Trinket bolted upright and tearfully burst out, “I wanted to make your coat pretty because you always like my pictures and I thought you could take them everywhere not just in your pockets but I made a mess and I’m so sorry papa! I’m really sorry!”
For a moment both of his parents were a little stunned, not quite sure what to say as his rambles tapered off into spluttery sobs. Molly warily glanced at Caleb, looking for any change in his blank, closed off expression, any flicker of discomfort, even anger.
After a few beats, ones that felt longer than usual, Caleb only nodded, getting to his feet. Gently, he reached over and put a gentle hand on his son’s face, catching some of the tears dribbling down his cheek on his thumb.
“Little Kätzchen, it’s alright,” he murmured softly, “Please don’t cry.”
Trinket sniffled, blinking blearily, “You’re not angry? Don’t want me to go away?”
Caleb’s eyebrows shot up in alarm, “No! Oh, Trinkie, absolutely not. I’d never want that.”
“But…” Trinket’s eyes were wide, hopeful, wanting to take this relief being offered but hesitant to, “It’s your favourite thing in the whole wide world…”
Caleb chuckled quietly, his smile back with all it’s warmth as he leaned in and kissed his forehead.
“Kätzchen, you and your sister are my favourite thing in the whole wide world.”
Molly nearly yelped in panic as he felt the weight of Trinket suddenly leave his arms before realising his son had thrown himself at Caleb, locking his arms around him tightly. He didn’t doubt for a moment that his husband would catch him, only smiling fondly as he gathered Trinket close and buried his face in his hair.
“It’s all okay,” Caleb whispered against the rust red curls he’d given their son, “It’s okay, little one.”
Molly let them have their moment, letting Trinket cry the last of his tears out happily against his papa’s chest, hanging back and feeling his heart thudding warmly against his ribs. Eventually he was their beaming, bright little boy again, if a little damp, wriggling down from Caleb’s arms determinedly after one last little kiss against his papa’s cheek.
“I’m gonna make you a sorry card. The best sorry card ever,” he promised Caleb, already toddling towards the door, “It’s gonna have glitter.”
“Wow, that kid is definitely my son,” Molly observed wryly once his little lavender tail had disappeared around the corner.
“Then you can clean up the mess he’s definitely about to make,” Caleb chuckled, moving into his husband’s arms.
“Hey,” Molly kissed the crown of his head gently, “Well done. I know that must have been hard for you and...I’m really proud of you.”
He couldn’t see it but he could hear the coy smile in his voice, “Well...I meant what I said. Some coat is never going to be more important to me than my kids.”
Molly smiled knowingly, “I know baby….but you know, if you want to scream into that cushion for a little while, that’s okay too?”
There was a short pause before he felt Caleb’s shoulders drop in relief.
“Thank you, Katze…”
“Is it done yet?”
Molly had to fight a smile. He’d explained to Caleb that soaking his coat would take exactly thirty minutes, knowing his husband fixated on time easily, but still he asked every five minutes on the dot. He’d expected nothing less.
“Not just yet, babe,” he repeated, as he had all of those other times, looking up from the laundry they’d been folding so Caleb would have an excuse to hover anxiously in the laundry room, over the tub of hot soapy water and a little rubbing alcohol his coat was submerged in, “Soon though.”
Caleb gave a small grunt, poking a finger into the water curiously like it was some potion he was working over. After a moment, before Molly could turn back to folding the clothes, he frowned.
“This sleeve isn’t in the water…”
Molly’s smile turned crooked, coming over and putting a hand on Caleb’s before he could move the one sleeve into the tub, “I thought maybe you’d want to look at it...decide if you want to keep that one.”
Caleb blinked, not understanding until he turned it a little and saw the drawing his Trinket had chosen to adorn the sleeve with. It was done in bright red, standing clearly against the dark fabric, unmistakable a child’s drawing. There were four figures there, two taller and two smaller. The first had a set of horns drawn a little too large for it’s head, as well as a tail. The second had a long scarf and a scrawled head of shoulder length hair. The next was much smaller, with another set of horns and a tail but the same scribbled hair. And the last was tiny, with voluminous ears and spikes on the end of it’s fingers. All of them had immense smiles and held hands, a lopsided love heart hovering above them.
As the other scribbles and swirls turned into formless ink in the water, Caleb held this one like it was the most precious thing he’d ever seen in his life.
“Yeah,” he murmured, smiling softly, “I think this one can stay.”
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dc41896 · 4 years
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Attention
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Pairing: Johnny “Human Torch” StormxBlack Reader
⚠️: Tiny bit of angst (if it even counts really), also tiny bit of implied happy times, but mostly fluff💕!
Re-reading over your notes for what felt like the millionth time this week, you softly mumble to yourself the highlighted material hoping that everything would remain stuck in your mind for your practical tomorrow.
“Intramuscular means within the muscle and is given at a 90 degree angle. Intravenous means within the vein, given at a 25 degree angle. Subcutaneous: in the subcutaneous layer at a 45 degree angle. And finally intradermal-,”
“Psst....psst!!”
If only your boyfriend would stop being a grown man child and let you finish studying though.
“Yes Johnny?,” you sigh still looking down at your binder.
“Take a break, I want to show you something.”
“No Johnny we’re not doing that again.”
“I wasn’t talking about that princess,” he smirks moving to lean against the bedroom door frame. “Although I’m not complaining if you want more.”
Giving him a look clearly showing how you weren’t in the mood, he chuckles holding up his hands to show he was done joking.
“Seriously though I want to show you something, so can you please come with me?”
“Just tell me, or take a picture of it on your phone and show me that way. I really have to keep studying and don’t have time for a bunch of breaks.” Straightening up, a low huff leaves his lips as you hear him pad through the living room before coming back holding a new action figure posed as if about to throw a handful of flames.
“Look! It’s me!,” he beams squatting next to you holding out the toy for you to see.
“Mhm that’s nice babe,” you smile not really displaying the reaction he wanted you to.
“I see you’re having a hard time containing your excitement,” he retorts sarcastically, bringing his mini me back towards his chest.
“It really is nice babe, it’s just similar to some of your other toys that I’ve already seen.”
“But with this one, the little flame lights up. See?” Pressing the small button on the back to show the tiny, plastic flame glowing scarlet, a wide smile spreads across his face making you giggle.
“Yes very cool. Now if that’s all, I gotta get back to this okay?”
“Alright,” he sighs standing up to return to his spot on the couch probably cold by now. “Why don’t you come study out here? It’ll be more comfortable than sitting on the floor.”
“Because you’re watching tv and that’s gonna distract me.”
“Not anymore. The game’s off so I’m done for the night,” he playfully smiles stealing one of your study packets making you whine his name. “Cmon you know you’d rather sit on the big, soft, incredibly comfy couch.”
Wiggling his brows, you roll your eyes trying to focus back on the words in front of you, but as always, seeing his adorable pout was wearing you down. Plus the ache in your buttcheeks was really making the couch, or any soft piece of furniture for that matter, sound like heaven.
“And, as an added bonus, your incredibly hot, charming, all around amazing boyfriend will be there.”
“Johnny...”
“As!...support and to help anyway I can of course. What did you think?,” he feigns shock as you shake your head.
“Alright fine. But if you try to distract me just once, I’m kicking you out for the rest of the night, and you’ll have to either get a hotel, or crash with Reed and Sue.”
“Okay deal,” he chuckles helping you stand and gather the packets, pens, and highlighters you needed to continue your attempted all nighter.
Sat in the middle of the plush sectional with one of his legs draped over your folded ones and the other stretched out behind you, so far he’d done well on his agreement. He stayed busy on his phone watching sports highlights with earbuds attached to his head, and hardly ever touched you unless to give a reassuring hug when he could sense you were getting overwhelmed, or softly dance his finger along your arm making you smile. He even started quizzing you from whichever packet you were on as you lied just below his chest playing with his free hand.
From how he was earlier, seemingly a bit more clingy and not wanting to be away from you, something told you deep down this was all he wanted. Just feeling your body near him as you did whatever, no matter how boring the task was. And although a little distracting, you couldn’t be completely mad at him for his antics since deep down you know you wanted it too.
Honestly need may be the better word judging from your noticeably calmer state. Even Johnny could feel your heart rate gradually decrease to its normal speed through his body.
Soon his yawn began to trigger your own set and eyelids became heavy as the questions came slower along with your answers. You tried to fight it off, but apparently your body had other plans making it increasingly more difficult to open your eyes until both of your light snores were the only sound that could be heard throughout the room.
———
“Good morning Mr. Johnny Storm, Miss Y/N,” the computerized security system greets opening the curtains to reveal the bright sun and cause you to stir. Rubbing your eyes, you see all the packets spread on the glass coffee table quickly reminding you of your exam.
“Sherlock, what time is it?,” you ask in a panic as you sit up causing Johnny to shift slightly without opening his eyes.
Also, why he decided to name the computer system Sherlock, you’d never understand.
“11:30 am miss.”
Grabbing your packets as fast as you can, a string of curses fall from your lips as you run about trying to collect your things. By now you were supposed to be on campus looking over your notes one last time before going in for your slot time at 12. At this rate, you’d definitely be over an hour late and received an automatic zero.
“What’s the rush princess?,” your boyfriend tiredly asks stretching his arms over his head as he stands.
“I overslept and I’m late,” you sniff trying to hold back your tears as you search through drawers trying to find your scrubs. “Where are they?”
Joining you in the room, he tries to kiss your cheek only to miss you completely as you rush past him still looking for your clothes.
“Closet babe. By my suit.”
“Well what about the other ones since those need to be washed now?”
“In the basket to be washed.”
“You mean the same clothes in the basket I asked you to wash last weekend,” you retort changing into the faint ash smelling scrubs. Noticing you wiping your eyes a bit more frequently, he manages to grab your arm stopping you from wherever else you needed to go.
“Johnny seriously I don’t have time for this-,”
“Relax okay? Let’s try to call your professor and tell them what happened to see if you can get a new time.”
“It’s not gonna work. This isn’t an emergency situation, I just overslept like an idiot,” you answer pulling away to finish the rest of your morning routine in the bathroom.
He sighs hearing you bang about while pulling his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants trying to find the number for your school. His upcoming events list popping up though makes him deeply chuckle as he shakes his head.
“Oh honey...!”
“Johnny please don’t start. I’m already frustrated a-and overwhelmed trying to figure out what to do and just need to-.” Holding his phone in front of your eyes, you see his calendar showing all his important meetings and interviews, along with your test date.
Which wasn’t until next Monday.
Pulling your phone from your backpack, you go to your calendar to find the same thing making you feel even dumber.
“...S-So I don’t have my test today?”
“No princess,” he smiles coming closer to caress your face with both hands, wiping your tears with his thumbs.
“And I stayed up all night this week studying for nothing?”
“Well not for nothing. You know your stuff now, so you won’t have to worry about it later.”
“Yea,” you sigh looking up at him as you hold onto his strong forearms. “Sorry for snapping at you about the laundry, and for kinda being cranky yesterday.”
“You were stressed. I get it.”
“But still, there were things I could’ve said differently-.”
“I forgive you,” he smiles leaning in to meet your soft lips with his in a needy kiss he’d been craving since yesterday. Biting your bottom lip as he just barely pulls away, your hands wander from his forearms to his flexed biceps, shoulders, and eventually chest stopping to graze your index finger along the small dip below his neck.
“Well since I don’t have an exam today and no classes, I was thinking...”
“Oh I think I know,” he smirks tilting his head lower to nip at your jaw and neck making you giggle.
“I help you do the laundry.” As soon as the sentence left your mouth, his stopped making you laugh harder while he groaned against your skin.
“Alright I promise it’ll get done today, but can’t we do it later?,” he whines with puppy eyes, lifting you so your legs could wrap around his hips as if trying to persuade you.
“Let me finish. We do the laundry so I can have clean scrubs and between loads, I give you all the attention I know you’ve been wanting that I wasn’t fully able to give this week.”
“Hey it’s not like I’ve been that-,” he tries to deny before meeting your eyes as if they were saying “really?”
“...yes please,” he smiles before his mouth returns to your smiling lips.
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hotchley · 4 years
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because no is a complete sentence.
hi! so @m0rcia is amazing and has been talking about a spencer hotchner au, which sounds like a really cool thing. it also sounds very chaotic given that diana is still his mother, which would lead to a lot of different parenting techniques. however, she was an absolute angel that answered my asks, which kinda? maybe? hopefuly got me out of my writer’s block. so even though the spencer hotchner au isn’t a complete fic yet, i wrote a really short drabble about it. because it’s amazing. like seriously, you need to see the posts about it.
@m0rcia: thank you. i hope this is okay- i wanted to surprise you because i only followed you recently but your blog always makes me laugh and it’s just really nice okay? and you’re also really nice. right i’ll stop ranting.
this is basically spencer learning that he never needs to justify himself after saying the word no. to anyone. regardless of who they are.
trigger warnings: references to child abuse
Spencer Hotchner is four years and three months old when he first learns that the word “no” is a full sentence.
His mother had often taught him about linguistics, and the way that sentences were formed in different languages. She taught him lots of different words- some of them his dad thought were not appropriate for him to be saying. Why, he didn’t know, because adults said those words all the time with no repercussions.
His dad struggled with the explanation. Spencer still doesn’t understand, but what he does know is that when he goes to stay with his mom, he can say what he wants, so long as he isn’t rude or disrespectful to anyone else around. Dad is more traditional- something to do with his southern upbringing- and he seems a bit different when he uses the so-called bad words. Sometimes they slip out.
But his dad doesn’t shout at him when he uses them. He just takes a deep breath and explains why he doesn’t like Spencer using them. Spencer starts to understand that his dad doesn’t like hearing them, but his mother thinks it’s okay. It’s still a bit confusing for him, but he thinks he grasps it.
Mom doesn’t have a lot of friends that want to touch him. He likes that, because there are only some people who he doesn’t mind touching him. Mom is the first person on that list. She always avoids the places that make him feel weird- his stomach and the back of his neck. Dad is also allowed to hug him. Most nights, he can’t sleep without his dad holding him close. He knows that the two of them are safe people, that’s why he likes them. And Dad is always gentle with him, never holding him too tightly.
Well, he did one time. They were in the shop and it was busy and all the people were so much bigger than Spencer. He found it overwhelming and started crying. Dad dropped the shopping right there in the aisle and took him to the toilets until he was able to explain through their hand signals what it was upsetting him: the lights, the tightness of Hotch’s touch and all the people.
After that, his Dad started taking one day a week as a work from home day. On those days, they would do their grocery shopping in the morning, when it was quiet and less colourful, and then Spencer would spend the afternoon with his Mom whilst Hotch did his work.
So Spencer had never really felt uncomfortable with touch. There were certain fabrics that he hated, but neither parent ever made him wear them. Mom let him wear whatever he wanted. Dad wanted him to change out of his pyjamas in the mornings when it was a weekday, but on weekends, they both spent their time in their pyjamas. It was really nice.
Dad’s family were less so. His dad didn’t have a dad anymore, nor did he like talking about him. Mom said that Dad’s dad was dead, which meant he no longer existed on this planet. Mom told him all sorts of theories about what happened to people after they died, but Dad said the conversation made him feel “icky” so they didn’t speak about it much.
But Dad took him to meet his family one weekend. Or the family he had left. Spencer knew all of their names. There was his Uncle Sean, his grandmother, two grand-aunts and three granduncles. One of his cousins was going to be there too, but they were much older than him.
When Dad rang the doorbell, he was doing the thing with his hand. Spencer had learnt he did that when he had sick feeling in his stomach that people described as butterflies.
“Why are you nervous?” he asked, staring up with wide eyes.
“I don’t really get on with most of my family. But you might like them, and you have a right to know who they are, which is why we’re here,” Dad answered.
“If it makes you feel icky then why did you do it?”
Dad did not answer. Spencer wondered if it was an impolite question. In reality, Aaron was trying to find the words. No had never been a good word in his house. At best, it meant he was being a difficult child, refusing to eat their vegetables. But most of the time it meant his father was refusing to have mercy or listen to him.
The door was opened before he could formulate an answer that wouldn’t terrify his son.
“Aaron! I was wondering when you would get here!” his mother said, kissing him on the forehead. Aaron didn’t let go of Spencer as he entered, remembering to slip his shoes off and put them to one side.
“Well, I’m here now, so,” he said.
Spencer shifted so he was slightly hidden.
“Is this Spencer? Hello, I’m your dad’s mommy, but you can call me whatever you’re most comfortable with. I prefer Nanny, it makes me feel less old and more loved. I have no idea what it is about it, it just does.”
“Mom, we talked about this. Please don’t overwhelm him,” Aaron said, already exasperated.
“Oh I am so sorry. Sean! Your brother is here!” she yelled.
Sean came rushing down the stairs. “Hey Aaron. Hi Spencer, I’m Sean, Aaron’s brother.”
Spencer gave him a shy wave. He wasn’t sure he wanted any of these people hugging him. But it was okay, because his dad understood that and kept them distracted to the point that they didn’t even realise.
The problem came when they were leaving. His dad had gone to get both of their coats, and Spencer was alone in the living room. Dad’s relatives were looking at him strangely as he was mesmerised by the art on the walls. He wondered if his Mom knew where it came from, and what it meant. The colours were muted, but pretty to look at.
“We’ll be off then,” Aaron said, once Spencer was all zipped up.
One of the grand aunts held her arms out. Spencer looked at his dad, who was engaged in conversation with his brother. He didn’t know what the woman expected her to do, so he stood there, watching her. Her face had an expression that he didn’t recognise on it.
Before he could register what she was doing her arms were wrapped around him, in a hug, that he did not want.
He let out a shout and Dad turned around.
“Spencer?” he said, trying to work out what was going on.
Spencer was squirming, trying to get away, but the woman just tightened her grip as he frantically shook his head, not knowing what he was supposed to say. He didn’t like the smell of her perfume, or the scratchy material of her dress. He wasn’t a baby anymore, but he could feel tears forming in his eyes.
And then suddenly he could breathe again. Dad had pulled him away. He buried his head in the soft material of his coat. It was nice and familiar and safe.
“Did he say you could hug him?” Aaron asked, his voice cold.
“I’m his family member, he should just do it,” she snapped.
Aaron swallowed. He wasn’t going to make the same mistakes his own family had. He couldn’t. “No, he shouldn’t. If he doesn’t want you hugging him, then you don’t. Understood? Mother, I’ll see you soon, hopefully. Spencer, we’re going home.”
Spencer nodded. He didn’t speak the whole journey home.
“How are you feeling now?” Dad asked, when they returned.
Spencer shrugged. “I didn’t like her hugging me.”
“That’s okay. When you don’t want somebody doing something, you say no. Okay? That’s all you have to say. No is a complete sentence. You don’t need to explain yourself. Ever. To anyone. Even to me. If you don’t want me to hug you, I won’t. And if that person makes you feel bad then they’re silly. Do you understand me?”
“Yes Dad.”
“And if they don’t stop, you hit them as hard as you can, and then you tell me. Or your Mom. Whichever one of us you see first.”
Spencer nodded. No was an interesting sentence. He’d have to ask his Mom about it. She then said it was one of the most important words a child could learn, and she was glad that his dad had taught him how to use it. They even practiced using it. It was much more fun to say: no I do not want to hear your opinions on Moby Dick again than it was to say: no I do not want a lollipop- which is what dad had made him say.
He was six years old when his dad first saw him use it.
They were in the playground. Dad was talking to Haley Brooks, who was there for her nephew. His Dad was not very good at disguising his attraction to her. Spencer thought it was a bit silly that he didn’t just say he was interested in her. He’d told his mom about what he thought was going to happen. She’d listened attentively and eventually deemed this Haley a good person.
Spencer had gotten bored and wondered over to some of the other kids, who were also waiting for their parents to finish their conversations. He was actually taller than one of them, but the rest were slightly bigger than him. They were playing a more gentle game of tag. Although he’d never met any of them, they quickly let him join the game.
When it was over, because one of them had to go, they asked to hug everyone. All the other children agreed like it was nothing.
Spencer didn’t want to hug him. But he didn’t want it to be like the other time, with Dad’s aunt. He hesitated and tried to see where his dad was. Dad had one eye on him and the other on Haley, ready to step in if he was needed.
No was a complete sentence. It always had been, and it always would be.
So when the little boy turned to him and asked if he could hug him, Spencer knew what to say.
“No,” he said.
The boy looked a little saddened, but shrugged and said bye to him anyways, before going over to his mom and leaving. Spencer used that moment to go back to his dad, who was done talking to Miss Brooks and smiled at him.
“Hey buddy. How was your little game?”
“It was nice. The boy wanted to hug me, but I didn’t want that to happen, so I told him no. And he just said okay and goodbye.”
Aaron smiled, holding his hand out in case his son wanted to hold it during their walk home. “Well done buddy. I know it can be a bit difficult to say it sometimes, but you did good. Shall we go home now?”
Spencer nodded. “Goodbye Miss Brooks.”
“Goodbye Spencer. See you soon Aaron.”
Aaron blushed and turned away, leading his son out of the school. His son that had no problem taking control of his own body or making his needs and wants known. He smiled to himself. Him and Diana may have not agreed on a lot of things, but this? This he was going to tell her all about. Because this was both of them.
Aaron Hotchner may not have grown up knowing that no was okay.
But Spencer Hotchner never had any problems using the word. Because in the Hotchner household, and everywhere else they went, regardless of who or where it was, no was a complete sentence. As it should be everywhere.
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Judgement Free (Paul Rovia)
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Pairing: Paule Rovia x Platonic!Reader Words: 1.3k+ Warning(s): Scars/self harm implication A/N: Lowkey forgot Tom Payne plays Jesus AND Malcom Bright for a second until I searched a gif up ahaha. I hope you enjoyed! Request:  Paul rovia x best friend! Reader where her sleeve slips down and he notices her scars. She rushes off and aviods him for the rest of the day until he corners her and she tries to push past him but he won't let her and he confronts her about it? Very Fluffy and please make it long? Thank you 👉👈🥺❤️ -✨
-----------------
The sun leaked into your home in Alexandria, signalling it was time for you to get up and start your day. Today was the day Paul, your partner in crime (for all intents and purposes), was due to visit. Ever since you met you guys were thick as thieves. He was always a ray of light for you during this shithole of an Apocalypse and you always tried your best to be the same for him.
You slid out of bed and threw on some clothes, whichever were the least dirty, and your sweater. You were glad to weather was starting to cool off, wearing long sleeves and and sweaters was getting rough during the intense heat. You had scars along your arms and they weren't something you wanted people to see. Everyone has scars they earned from the apocalypse but yours were from before, from a darker time. Even with the seemingly end of the world where you were covered in dirt, blood, and walker guts your past kept you feeling insecure.
You shook your head at the memories and made your way out the door. There was no time to dwell on life before walkers, you had your best buddy and gardening to do. The day was a warm one, but thankfully bearable enough. You made your way to the gardens, saying hi to a few people and friends along the way. You saw a few people from Hilltop around so you knew Paul was probably at the gardens waiting for you. When you arrived you saw a few people working on different sections and then your eyes landed on Paul, who was leaning against a post.
His face lit up as he saw you approaching, "I was worried you were going to ditch me today."
"And not spend the day with my best friend? I wouldn't pass that up for anything." You grinned. "Well, maybe for a fresh set of clothes."
"I am glad to know you would leave me to work for a new set of clothes, (Y/N). I honestly would too." He snickered and handed you the tools necessary. "They want us to make a new plot and lines for future plants today."
"Sounds good. You got the left side and I'll get the right?"
"Sure. Whoever finishes first gets this can of soup I found."
"You're on, Jesus."
------
You and Paul finished your sides at the exact same time, which made you both share a laugh. Paul picked up a canteen he had brought and took a quick swig and then offered it to you.
"It's water. You better drink some." He pushed it towards you more.
You grab it and knock back a sip, the some-what cool water did quench your thirst for the time being. "Thanks." You handed it back to him but notice his attention wasn't on your face. Your heart sunk when you followed his widened eyes to your somewhat revealed forearm. His blue eyes snapped to your face and you could feel a sense of anxiety and fear. You didn't want him to see this at all.
He went to open his mouth but you didn't want to hear what he had to say, the anxiety coursing through you was making you think a bit more irrationally. So you walked away from your friend, or more like rushed off from him. You didn't want to face his pity or even look him in the eye. It was a secret of yours you hadn't shared to your closest friend and you felt a sudden wave a guilt wash over you. He told you all of his past, but you couldn't share this detail to him? Or worse, he was disgusted at your past actions. That painful thought made you almost break.
You went over to Carols home to hide away, hoping she needed your help. You didn't necessarily wanted to avoid Paul, but right now you needed to clear your thoughts and emotions. Luckily, Carol needed help with organizing her supplies. Carol did ask why you weren't with Paul but she backed off when she saw the anxious look on your face.
When you finished helping out with Carol you peered out onto the street, looking out for Paul. You didn't see him anywhere so you took that as your queue to scurry off to the pantry to see if they needed assistance there.  With luck on your side, they needed a helping hand after someone left for the day. There were conflicting emotions and thoughts plaguing your mind and avoidance was your best idea in the moment.
You were stacking some cans in the back when you heard an all too familiar voice in the pantry.  You glanced between the shelves and saw Paul talking to the guy in charge today. Before you had a chance to duck away his eyes locked onto yours. You gulped and tried to escape quickly through the back although you knew he was going to follow you anyways. You dipped out the backdoor hoping he wouldn't be able to catch up.
"(Y/N) please." His voice stopped you in your tracks. Your heart beat was pounding in your ears as you looked for away to avoid the situation but saw your back door escape was futile. It was just a simple back yard with some boxes of found supplies. "(Y/N)..."
"What, Paul?" You sighed, trying to control how shakey your body felt in this moment.
"Why have you been avoiding me since the gardens?"
"Why do you think, Paul?" You said a bit harsher than intended.
"Is it about what I saw? (Y/N)-"
"I don't want pity. They were from a darker time in my life when I didn't know any better coping mechanisms." You turned to face Paul while your arms subconsciously wrapped themselves around your waist. You could feel the annoying sting of tears start to prick your eyes. "I feel like I am a shitty friend for not telling you after you told me so much-"
You were interrupted by your friend pulling you into a tight hug, resting his head against yours. "I don't hold any pity for you (YN). I was just a little shocked, but you are my closest friend I don't hold any bad judgement towards you at all.  I don't care that you didn't tell me before, it doesn't matter. We all have things we have trouble bringing up, so don't feel guilty about not telling me."
You were a bit shocked, but couldn't say anything. You gripped onto the back of Paul's shirt and cried silently. He rubbed comforting circles into your back as you cried.
"I know my reaction wasn't ideal, but trust me when I say I love you dearly and you didn't judge me so I won't judge you."
"I love you too, Paul. And I am sorry I ran off and avoided you all day. I just didn't know how to face you after you saw. My mind was playing tricks on me and I thought you would be disgusted or something." You pulled away from him to look at his face. "Pretty silly."
"Nah, not silly." He chuckled and smiled. "We have a few more hours left until I have to go back to the Hilltop... How about we find Rick and prank him?"
"If we get in trouble it is hundred percent your fault."
"You would throw your best friend under the bus like that?"
"When it comes to messing with Rick? Yes." You both laugh. "Unless we are needed elsewhere, we can always just hang out in my house. I should have some old board games I found."
"Have I ever told you I kick ass in Monopoly?"
"No you haven't, and I am scared to see how true that is."
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Some Girl ... Part 12
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: None.
// * // * //
Sunday / July 25th
After talking before bed the night before, Charlotte and Shawn agreed that he would ride with her, Jonah, and Mackenzie to Elisa and Jack’s. It didn’t make sense for them to take two vehicles to the same place. Shawn said he’d walk over and grab coffee on the way. Make a good first impression, he had chuckled, although Charlotte could hear the truth within his words.
Shawn arriving early would give him, Jonah, and Mackenzie a chance to meet and get to know one another a little before they joined everyone else. They would talk over coffee and after Sebastian woke from his morning nap and nursed, they would leave for brunch.
Charlotte nearly swooned when she opened the door for Shawn.
His skin was bronzed and glowing, having spent so much time outside over the past week. His hair had lightened a shade as well, and whatever products he had put in it that morning had his curls and waves behaving beautifully.
He was wearing white jean shorts with a brown belt, a trim-fit, navy blue button-down with the first few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up, and brown Vans with blue accents.
“Good morning, babe,” she beamed. She hated how only one day away from him had suddenly become too long.
“Good morning,” he grinned back, wrapping the arm of his free hand around her and snuggling her tightly to him. He breathed her in. It had been only one day but he had deeply missed the soft scent of her.
When they eased out of their hug, Charlotte ran the open placket of Shawn’s shirt between her thumb and forefinger. “You look so handsome,” she smiled. “I love you in blue.”
“Thank you, darling. You are as beautiful as always.”
Charlotte was wearing a white, short-sleeve, off the shoulder blouse and white and navy blue striped shorts. She noticed that her outfit complimented his perfectly.
“Are you ready to meet my brother and his fiancée?”
“I hope so,” he chuckled.
She linked her hand with his which wasn’t carrying their coffee and together they walked further into the condo. Jonah and Mackenzie had been sitting at the kitchen island but stood when Charlotte and Shawn entered the room.
Before any introductions could be made, Mackenzie breathed, “Oh my God, you two are adorable.”
“I swear, we did not discuss what we were going to wear today,” Charlotte laughed.
“It’s perfect,” Mackenzie giggled, “I love it.”
Charlotte introduced Shawn to Jonah and Mackenzie.
Jonah gave Shawn a once-over when they shook hands. He was tall, fit, and clean-cut, with a strong jawline and five visible tattoos. He was very attractive. Any man secure enough in who they were could admit when another man was attractive.
Mackenzie, on the other hand, gave Shawn a thorough head to toe.
Charlotte was used to women reacting favorably to Shawn, and she also knew it was something that was always going to happen with him being who he was. Even if the person didn’t know who he was, aside from being a global popstar, he was simply an incredibly attractive man. In any case, Charlotte had no true claim on Shawn. Besides, Mackenzie was happily engaged to Jonah; Charlotte knew she meant no harm or disrespect.
They all sat together at the dining room table with their coffees. Charlotte took a sip of Shawn’s coffee and instead of giving it back to him, she handed him hers.
“Babe,” he chuckled.
“Yours is better.”
“It also has a lot more caffeine,” he tittered.
She took a couple of additional sips and then, somewhat reluctantly, handed it back to him, reclaiming her own.
Charlotte looked at Jonah and Mackenzie’s amused expressions, and explained, “Too much caffeine isn’t good for Bash.”
“I started reading What to Expect: the First Year after I met Charlotte and Bash for the first time,” Shawn admitted, blushing.
“What? I didn’t know that,” Charlotte breathed, astonished. Shawn shrugged nonchalantly. “Why are you so fucking cute?” she smirked, briefly cupping his face, stroking the pad of her thumb along his cheekbone.
Jonah didn’t say so out loud, but that was something truly admirable. Not many male friends of a single mother would bother to take the time to do that. Hell, not many boyfriends would.
“How old are you, Shawn?” Jonah wondered. Shawn was already proving himself to be quite mature, but he still looked relatively young.
“I’ll be 23 in two weeks.”
“August 8th,” Charlotte offered.
“Leo,” Mackenzie tacked on. “And Charlie, you’re an Aquarius?” she asked. “February?”
“The 4th,” Shawn said, with a nod.
Mackenzie simply smiled in an all-knowing sort of way.
“Are you originally from Toronto?” Jonah asked Shawn.
“Born and raised in Pickering. Graduated from Pine Ridge.”
“I have a buddy who went to Pine Ridge. Played varsity hockey.”
“I played hockey. And soccer and basketball, too. I was in drama and the glee club. I also did Leadership Camp every year except my last.”
“Did you go to college?” Mackenzie asked.
“No. I was too busy touring…”
Jonah looked confused. “Excuse me?”
Shawn looked at Charlotte. Jonah and Mackenzie noticed that an entire conversation seemed to pass between them without words.
“I don’t meet very many people who don’t already know who I am,” Shawn said.
“Should we know who you are?” Mackenzie asked.
“Not necessarily. Not by sight anyway. Maybe not at all. You may know some of my music.”
At that moment they all heard Sebastian through the baby monitor. It wasn’t the ideal time for him to have woken up.
Charlotte frowned. “I would say, hold that thought, but...”
“It’s all right. Go,” Shawn smiled reassuringly.
She stood from the table and ran her fingers through the little curls at the nape of his neck. “May as well get it out of the way, babe.” Just before Charlotte entered the nursery, she said, “Alexa, play Shawn Mendes.”
// * // * //
The moment Charlotte returned after nursing, she heard Jonah ask, “Elisa and Jack, and everyone, you’ve met them already? We’re not springing any surprises on them?”
“He met them last weekend,” Charlotte answered.
“Hi buddy!” Shawn beamed at Sebastian.
Sebastian was already reaching for Shawn when Charlotte handed him over. “All except Valerie. And she is very excited to meet him today.”
Jonah could easily see that Shawn and Sebastian had already bonded, and he really liked that Shawn was thoughtful, sweet to, and respectful of his sister. They made a good match, even if they weren’t officially together in any capacity more than friendship.
“How did it go?” Charlotte asked, looking from Shawn to Jonah and Mackenzie. “You’re cool?” she said to her brother and his fiancée.
“We’re cool,” Mackenzie smiled.
“I always expect everyone to immediately recognize him.” Charlotte turned to Mackenzie, “I was anticipating having to have a conversation with you yesterday when you saw the picture of us on the console table.”
“What picture?” Shawn asked.
Charlotte retrieved the photo and brought it back to Shawn.
“Aw babe, I want a copy of this.” Sebastian tried to grasp the frame and bring it to his mouth. “Really, little man? Everything has to go straight into your mouth, eh?”
“I thought you might,” she smiled and pulled from her pocket the coolest flash drive keychain he had ever seen. “All of the photos from the zoo are on it. You can keep whichever ones you want and delete the rest.”
“This is amazing. Thank you, darling,” he said, grinning brightly, wrapping an arm around her waist.
“Should we get going then?”
// * // * //
Charlotte’s family was ecstatic when she and Shawn, with Sebastian in his arms, arrived at brunch with Jonah and Mackenzie.
As Jonah was swept up in hugs and excited chatter, Shawn whispered encouragingly to Mackenzie, “Try not to feel overwhelmed. You’re marrying into an incredible family.”
Mackenzie squeezed Shawn’s forearm. “Thank you, Shawn.”
Jonah introduced Mackenzie, who was eagerly and enthusiastically welcomed.
Everyone was happy to see Shawn as well. They adored him almost as much as Charlotte did, which settled warmly in her chest.
The only one who hadn’t met Shawn yet was Valerie, and with the tiniest nod from Charlotte in her direction, she finally approached, greeting her cousin with a bright smile and a hug.
Charlotte squeezed her back, quick and tight. “I’m happy you’re here.” She then took Sebastian from Shawn and introduced him to Valerie.
She and Shawn could both see how excited Valerie was to meet him, but she did an admirable job keeping her composure, which was good. She needed to get used to Shawn being around.
Elisa swept by and snatched Sebastian from Charlotte’s arms and yelled over her shoulder at the trio, “Go eat!”
// * // * //
Once stomachs were full and minds were mimosa-relaxed, and when Jonah had the chance to step away from the whirlwind of aunts, uncles, and cousins, first making sure Mackenzie felt comfortable enough for him to do so, he went looking for Shawn.
He found him with his sister, of course; they were practically joined at the hip after all. They were cleaning up the kitchen, laughing so hard about God knows what that they were wheezing.
“So this is where the real party is. Clean up. Who knew?” Once Shawn and Charlotte had a chance to catch their breath, Jonah asked, “Do you play pool, Shawn?”
Charlotte gave Shawn a look that said, I warned you this might happen.
Shawn just smirked at Charlotte before turning to Jonah to say, “I’m better at ping pong than pool, but sure.”
“Great.” He then said to Charlotte, “I’ll get him back to you before you know it.” She softly bit her bottom lip and blushed.
The two young men headed downstairs to the rec room.
After the break and when they had each had one turn, Shawn said, “Charlotte told me you would want to talk, man to man.”
“No pretext then, eh?”
“What are my intentions with your sister?”
“We’ll get there,” Jonah chuckled. “How long have you and Charlie known each other?”
“Not long. Less than anyone might expect. We’ve never been outright asked and we’ve always sort of skirted around the specifics.”
“Why?”
Shawn nervously ran his hand though his hair. “Because it’s kind of ridiculous and we’re afraid we’ll be judged for it.”
Jonah was both curious and apprehensive. He waited until after Shawn took his next shot, sinking one ball, but not the next. He was hoping Shawn would offer more on his own, which he did as Jonah took his turn.
“I don’t know how you felt when you met Mackenzie for the first time, but Charlotte and I... It was immediate, the connection we made. She was heaven-sent when I needed someone the most.”
“And when was that? I’m asking outright.”
Shawn’s cheeks reddened. “A week ago.”
“Wait. Hold on.”
Shawn looked at Jonah in a way which said, now you know why we skirt around it.
“Okay. Reserving my judgement. Go on.”
Shawn continued, telling Jonah about where, when, and how he met Charlotte, and how their lives have intertwined since then. He took a deep breath before saying, “You know how you hear about ‘love at first sight’ and ‘when you know, you know?’ It’s like that with us. I mean, not exactly. We’re not in love,” he blushed. “But there’s deep affection and appreciation between us. She’s the most honest and accepting person I know. She’s sweet, and she’s kind, and I know I can place my faith and trust in her.”
“Forgive me for asking, but I have to. I have to watch out for my sister. I’m sure you understand, having a younger sister yourself... You’re not looking for a rebound or taking advantage of her in any way, are you?”
“Wow. Blunt. But I appreciate that. If you know Charlotte at all, she doesn’t let anyone take advantage of her... And with who I am, I have to be careful that I’m not the one being taken advantage of.”
“I didn’t even consider that,” Jonah said, thoughtfully.
“Regardless, no. I care about her too much. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her.”
“Has Charlie told you much about Booker?”
“I know that she loved him, and she said he was good to her when he was around, but she also used the words 'complicated', 'reckless', and 'dangerous'. I haven’t pressed her for more. We don't really talk about our exes.
“She hasn’t asked me about my ex aside from wondering how I’m doing. I know Charlotte would tell me about Booker if I asked, but I would rather have her offer to tell me when she feels ready to. It doesn’t seem to matter much though because, as far as I understand, he hasn’t even tried to reach out since she left him. Which is a dick move, by the way. If I had a son, I’d do anything to be in his life; never mind what kind of relationship I had with his mother.
“We’ll have those conversations when we’re ready, or when we need to.” Shawn then said, “She misses you a lot, you know. You should really make an effort to come back to Toronto more often. And Bash is going to grow up so fast. You don’t want to miss that.”
“I like your integrity,” Jonah said. “And I like you. I like you for Charlie.”
“We’re-”
“Just friends, I know. Still. You care for her. She cares for you. I like how you treat her and my nephew. I see how you watch out for them. I hope you’re in their lives for a long time, whether you stay only friends or someday it turns into something more.”
// * // * //
Part 13
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spartanxhunterx · 4 years
Text
Bug And Shell(d): Late night run
Nino's fingers clicked away at his mouse and keyboard, headphones perched atop his head as he listened to one of his soundtracks while he was organising other soundtracks and mixes on his computer.
It was late, very late, judging by the moonlight that was leaking its way between the curtains, attempting to illuminate the areas in which his computer screen could not.
Despite the time, he wasn't tired.
No, he was anxious, nervous. His mind was running a hundred miles and hour. Thought after thought racked through his brain, repeating what memories he had of the fight with Dark Cupid, with Kim, and lady Wi-Fi.
Valentine's day had been just a few days ago, while it had been quiet since then, he couldn't help but feel like he was missing something. Ladybug had told him what had happened of course, how could she not?
He, Carapace, had fallen victim to an Akuma's power and had been turned against Ladybug, his partner. Pushing his glasses up Nino pinched the bridge of his nose, knuckles pressing into his eyes slightly, before sighing and collapsing back in his chair.
Wayzz would probably point out that he had fallen prey to Lady Wi-Fi too but that was different in it's own way. When it came to Alya's akumatization he wasn't under her control, just... Stuck and he had been protecting Ladybug unlike with Dark Cupid where he had gone against her.
He was her protector, Not her assailant.
How much harder had he made that Akuma? How many innocent people got hurt because Ladybug was dealing with him? How badly could it have ended if Ladybug hadn't found some way to free him from the Akuma?
He was greatful for whatever she did, even if that was the one detail she wouldn't tell him. But he didn't want to put her in that situation ever again, had to fight by her side... Always.
Sitting up properly Nino reached out to pull his Mug of Tea towards him, bringing it up to his lips slowly to savour the taste.
Ever since he had almost been akumatised Wayzz had suggested he take up several calming routines. Breathing exercises were one such thing, Meditation another and even calming herbal teas like Chamomile and lavender.
Although he had only used them once since getting them, tonight being the second, he could tell how useful they were. They helped him to relax his muscles and the warmth in his stomach was quite welcome.
But tea could only help so much to ease his nerves, he needed something else to take his mind off it all. Something to drain his excess energy without possibly waking everyone up.
But it's not like he could just begin doing push ups on his floor now could he?
Sighing he put his Mug back down, setting it near Wayzz, Who was taking his time to eat through the bowl of chopped fruit as he relaxed near him.
"Something on your mind?... Dude?" Nino snorted humorously at Wayzz' attempt to use modern slang as he removed his headphones. Not that he did it badly, just that he sounded so uncertain of himself that It was almost comical.
"Well... Sort of little dude." He gently rubbed Wayzz' head, being mindful of his antenna. "Just... Dark Cupid, or at least the thought that I could have made that a lot worse then it was."But
" But you didn't, Ladybug fixed it all in the end. "
He sighed, moving his fingers to rest on Wayzz' shell. "It's not that simple Dude. What if Ladybug hadn't won? hadn't fixed me? What if I took her miraculous?" He waited a moment for Wayzz to answer but only saw his calculating face, he could see the gears turn in his head.
"We would have lost Little dude. Simple as that, Hawkmoth cares far more for Ladybugs miraculous then mine... Your miraculous." Nino's fingers fiddled with the bracelet around his wrist, even in his PJ's with the other bands taken off he couldn't bear to part with the Miraculous.
It's weight was comforting in its own weird way.
"Indeed, but for what reason is... Unfathomable," Wayzz floated up before plopping himself down on Nino's shoulder. "What's important is we keep up the fight and protect Ladybug, so he may never get the Miraculous."
" Which isn't easy when I'm mind controlled Wayzz." He deadpanned, tired of beating around the bush. Wayzz' face contorted then he tilted his head to the side in thought.
"I see... Perhaps this is a conversation to have with Ladybug then?"
Yeah, he could. If he knew how to get hold of her outside of Akuma attacks. His best bet was to wait for the next attack, then ask her if she was free to talk. Although it worked last time, he figured that was because it was an urgent matter, over now which was just a few small worries.
"So, are we going?" Nino blinked, looking up at Wayzz.
"What?"
" If you wish, we can go out now, try to find Ladybug so you can speak to her. " Shaking his head Nino stood from his chair stretching before reaching for his Mug again.
"I doubt she'll just be out there, we both have civilian lives, besides its..." Looking at the time on his screen he let in a sharp breath between his teeth. "Well eleven forty seven, she's probably asleep." He took a sip of his tea, trying to prolong the conversation.
" Plausibly but you are not, even if you don't find her, a nice run will do some good for you. " Well, Nino couldn't argue with that logic, he rubbed the back of his neck in thought.
It wouldn't hurt to go on a run, exhaust himself enough to maybe get a few hours of sleep before school started. Maybe give him a reason to go to The Dupain-Cheng bakery for a coffee and breakfast, not that he needs a reason to go.
"I... Alright, wait here a second."
Wayzz watched as his chosen left the room, picking up a cut up grape he took a bite before chewing on it. The small Kwami could see the lights outside the room turn on from where it peaked in from under the door. He only had to wait a few minutes before his chosen returned, a steaming hot thermos in hand.
probably filled with more tea. He floated up as Nino shut the door. "Ready to go?" Shaking his head Nino motioned for him to wait before checking his curtains to ensure no-one could peak in.
Flicking his light on he placed his thermos down. "Alright, now I'm ready."
" Then say the magic words. "
"Wayzz, Shell On."
Feeling the magic wash over him Nino brought in a deep breath, relaxing as he felt his heart rate increase in preparation for a fight. He hoped that his light had covered the flash of light from his transformation, he didn't want to be caught out by something as stupid as that.
Flicking his light back off he picked up his thermos and switched his computer to sleep mode. Peaking out his curtains he surveyed the windows and balconies of the other house's as he attached his thermos to his hip, just in case there were other late nighters about.
Feeling satisfied that he couldn't see anything he opened his window wide enough to climb his way out of it. Standing on the ledge precariously he leaped to the close by Lamppost, catching onto the pole before climbing up to the top.
his boots left behind scruff marks that blended in with the others he had been leaving there. Kneeling down atop the post he scanned the road below, seeing it bare and empty. It was strange, to see Paris' streets so abandoned yet know that the city still held life inside its many many buildings.
Tensing his legs he prepared himself before committing to jump to the closest by Lamppost, a jump which he could just barely make on his own. He didn't slow down as he continued his movements by jumping to the closest rooftop, hitting it a little hard.
Bleeding speed by transitioning into a roll he came to a stop, he gave the area another look around before setting off on his run.
his feet pounded against the solid concrete of the buildings, the wind whipped his hood slightly and the cool night air burned at his lungs.
He didn't pay too much attention to where he was going, he just let his feet take him to whichever part of Paris they so desired to travel to.
There was something about traveling this way that was... Uniquely satisfying, he couldn't put his finger on it but he knew there would be little that could compare to running across Paris' skyline Keith nothing but the wind to accompany him.
It wasn't the feeling of freedom, more... The knowledge that he had a higher role in this city. He was one of the city's only two defenders, it was a large amount of responsibility. And he was honoured to hold that responsibility, out of everyone in the entire city it was him, he was chosen to be Carapace.
Now that he knew what that was like... He couldn't imagine not being Carapace, he couldn't imagine not having the power to protect people.
Stopping on a slightly isolated rooftop he moved to the edge, leaning against the billboard as he looked down to the street below. Still the task before him was massive and he was only one person, so he knew he had to be careful.
There was little room for mistakes in all of this.
If Ladybug lost her miraculous, they would lose, no more cure, no more purifying Akuma's. If he lost his... Then he wouldn't be able to defend Ladybug, Paris or even his family.
Whoever gave him the miraculous would probably give someone else a different one... Assuming that there was both more miraculous and someone who had them.
but Nino refused to believe that someone hadn't put the box in his house on the first day of school.
"I think I'm seeing smoke." His arm slipped from where he was leaning, hands grasping at the beams of the billboard before he felt more slender hands grab his arm and pull him back onto the roofs surface.
Turning around he came face to face with Ladybug, who looked both worried and slightly amused. Mostly worried though. "Damn Bug. Give a guy a warning would you."
He chuckled slightly as he pretended to dust himself off, doing his best to not look at his partner. He did not want her to see his face all red from embarrassment.
"I am glad you're here though." Moving over to a large air conditioning unit he hoisted himself up and say on it. "Although, how'd you know I was here?"
" Well... I... Ugh, I saw you? "
Raising an eyebrow he looked her over, seeing how her shoulders were tense, her ankles close together and arms folded defensively in front of her. As if she was trying to make herself smaller then she already was.
He bit back the mocking remark he could have said about her already short stature before nodding thoughtfully.
"I guess that makes sense, I wasn't exactly trying to hide." And he wasn't but he was under the assumption that no-one would be in the right place at the right time to see him. But if someone had to see him?
well he was glad it was her.
"So," She swayed slightly from foot to foot and Nino realised that this was one of those rare occasions where Ladybug wasn't always flying. "Did you have something to say?... Or?"
"Hmm..." He looked up from where he was pulled his thermos off his side before realization dawned on his face. "Oh right, yeah. I wanted to ask you a few things." Tapping the space next to him he waited for her to join him.
after a moment of hesitation did she do so and the two of them looked over the Paris skylines.
"I wanted to talk about valentines day," he chose to ignore her flinch , he didn't want to think of the implications of that. "Cause it got me thinking. If an Akuma can mind control me once, it possible it could happen again."
Pouring his tea into the thermos lid he held it up for a moment before deciding to pass it to his partner.
Accepting the drink she hummed in thought. "Anything's possible, we don't even know what Hawkmoths limits are and all his Akuma are different."
Bringing the cup to her lips she took a sip before recoiling away. Carapace's free hand shot out to grab the wayward cup and although some of the tea split on the rooftop, at least the cup wasn't thrown.
"You alright bug? Is it too hot? Or are you lactose intolerant or something?"
"That's not coffee!" He blinked as Ladybug turned away from him in an attempt to hide her blush from him, his hand was still holding onto hers and she could feel the butterflies in her stomach.
Nino was quiet for all of a moment before a chortle escaped his lips, said chortle grew into a full blown laughter that only caused Ladybugs checks to darken to the same shade as her entire outfit.
"What's so funny!?" Smacking him on the shoulder seemed to bring him down to earth again.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, " Freeing the cup from her grip he took it back and refilled it before offering it again, which she took."I've just got this mental image in my head of you tweaked out on coffee, flying around sporadically and randomly all like a hummingbird."
He took a sip from his thermos before letting a large smile grace his face. "You remind me of my friend, amazing girl, a little small but if you give her coffee... Well, she's your responsibility after that."
"She get hyper or something?" He heard something in her voice but couldn't quite identify it.
" Normally she's good after her first coffee but after like the third, " he let out a low chuckle before taking a sip of his tea. "Well the last time that happened she challenged the resident jock to a race, she collapsed asleep halfway to the finish line."
Both winced in sympathy before they nursed their drinks a little more. Soaking in the silence of the night, it was so much more... Peaceful then the daytime, even with the slight ominous undertone that the night carried.
Leaning against his shoulder, Ladybug kept her eyes on her hands. He didn't flinch or shift away from her and after a moment his arm wrapped around her shoulders.
"What was it you wanted to talk to me about? before I interrupted you with the coffee thing."
He went to answer, he really did but one look at his partners bluebell eyes, seeing the worry in them, was enough to push the question to the back of his mind. To leave it there and ignore it, these where his problems, not his partners.
"You know what? I forgot." He'd deal with it... Alone.
Snuggling into his side a little more Ladybug let her head lean on him. Carapace himself decided to lay the two of them down into their back for more comfort.
after he removed his shield of course.
"You ever wonder why we were chosen?" Ladybugs words were filled with such curiosity that he found himself wondering the same thing.
what could he, Nino Lahiffe, done to possibly earn himself the responsibility to be one of Paris' Protectors, over the literal millions of other people.
Why wasn't an adult chosen? Why not someone more experienced at fighting? Why them?
Why not them?
"Constantly, But, I think... It because, deep down, we're good people. Willing to do the right thing, not for ourselves, but everyone else. "
Ladybug snorted and he felt like he was being mocked. "That was ridiculously cheesy, but probably true." She sighed, one of her arms moving to rest on his chest as she turned towards him slightly. "I couldn't imagine standing by and watching all this happen if I wasn't Ladybug. "
He couldn't imagine being a bystander either. Perhaps in another time, he wouldn't have a choice but right now? He didn't wish anyone else to be put in the danger the two of them faced.
"Same." He tightened his hold on Ladybug as her body shifted , just in case she fell. "I have your back, always. "
"I'll always have your back Too Carapace." She spoke slowly, lightly. As if something was dragging her voice down.
He blinked slowly a few times, unable to bring himself to talk just yet. They were fine.
The next time he blinked he was greeted to the peaking light of the sun over Paris' horizon. He breathed in the cold morning air, throat dry and limbs asleep.
His partner was curled up to his side.
He'd had fallen asleep, On top of a remote rooftop on nothing but his super suit and he knew he had nothing but PJ's on under that. And... Oh no, Ladybug might even be the same, if she popped out after seeing him pass whenever she lived.
"Well, Fuck."
-
Nino stumbling into the Dupain-Cheng bakery was not an uncommon occurrence for the Dupain-Cheng parents to witness, Sabine smiled sympathetically at the boy as she began to prepared his regular coffee order before he had even gotten halfway across the shop floor.
"Morning Mrs. Dupain-Cheng," He covered his mouth as he let out a yawn, half leaning against the counter as he tried to keep his head up.
"Oh dear Nino," Sabine shook her head slightly amused , "You look tired, you stay up on your computer again? "
Nino shrugged slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Something like that... Can't remember much."
The older woman clicked her tongue as she finished putting Nino's coffee into a to-go cup. "Lack of sleep results in poor memory Nino," Sabine placed his coffee down before him and brought her hand to his cheek , a gesture that had become more common. "Get some sleep tonight. Even if you have to come here to get it, ok?"
Nino snorted humorously as his left hand raised to meet Sabine's. "I don't have a problem sleeping at home, I just g-" he let out another yawn. "Get distracted."
Sabine nodded as she pushed his coffee into his hands. "Of course, go sit down for a minute until Marinette comes down, I'll bring your order."
Nino blinked slightly, Sabine could see the gears turning in his head and had to stifle a laugh. "But I didn't..." He trailed off, unable to find the right words to say.
"No, you didn't, but we know what you like and you need to sit for a few minutes, besides, the schools just there." Giving his cheek a gentle tap Sabine moved away to begin bagging up two bags of pastries.
It took Nino's brain a moment to switch gears but once he did he moved to the closest table and sat down before folding his arms and leaning his head down onto them. Coffee momentarily ignored.
"You know, This place is very homely." He quietly hummed in agreement, even as Wayzz popped out of the side of his hood to peak at the rest of the bakery. "Its not very surprising that you fell for Marinette, she's the embodiment of all the sugar in here."
Nino tensed slightly at the voice at his ear, feeling heat pool into his cheeks. "Wayzz." He spoke in a low whisper, to not draw attention from anyone else.
"You say something Nino?" His knuckles tightened and he felt his nail bite into his palms. Fighting off the blush he raised his head before resting it on his closed hand, seeing Sabine next to him holding onto a bag, which she swiftly put down.
"Just... Groaning, I'm tired." He rubbed his eyes from under his glasses before pushing himself up. Feeling his back ache from the awkward place he had slept last night. Who knew you could fall asleep on a random roof but he supposed the tea was also a large benefactor to the position they found themselves in, in the morning.
"Drink up," She tapped his coffee cup. " if you're too tired to stay awake in school all day, come and have a nap during your lunch break."
"Will do Mrs. Dupain-Cheng. "
"Sabine dear. Now eat up, you won't have any energy for the day if you don't eat anything." Giving a hum he opened up the pastry bag to remove one of the blueberry muffins.
Slowly he munched on it, occasionally he would hold it slightly closer to his chest to allow Wayzz a chance to take a bite for himself. He really hoped he wasn't giving the guy a sweet tooth. He could handle Wayzz getting through several bowls of fruit a day, he doubted he could supply him with sweet treats all day everyday.
Especially since he had to cut back on his DJ gigs after an Akuma made him late for one of his scheduled gigs.
That had been a pain to explain. The chair in front of him groaned in protest and his eyes slowly lifted up to meet Marinette's. She looked, absolutely, dead to the world. There was nothing but tiredness and self hatred in those eyes.
"You stay up all night?" He drawled out before gulping back his coffee. Funny, he nurses teas but drinks coffee like his life depends on it.
"Sort ah..." Opening her mouth resulted in a large yawn to escape her. It was cute. "Had a few ideas come to mind and I just..." She's waved her hands sluggishly, her own cup of coffee sloshing around in her hand. "Had to draw them. "
"Please tell me you got a little sleep dudette." Reaching into the bag Nino pulled out a pistachio macaroon before taking a bite.
"Did you?" He was too tired to see the light pink that dusted her face as his eyes dropped to the table. Yes, he did get sleep.
But he got sleep on top of an air conditioning unit while dressed up as a turtle and hugging his superhero partner. That was not something he wanted to explain.
"Eh, some. Fell asleep on my keyboard, you know?"
"At least I was on something comfortable."
Flicking the small chunk of Macaroon he had in hand he watched as it flew between them before hitting Marinette dead centre of her forehead. She flinched in surprise, she squinted her eyes at the boy across from her as she brushed off the crumbs.
"Lahiffe."
"Dupain-Cheng."
The two of them stared each other down until Marinette let out a stiffened laugh. "You, you sound like Chloé."
" Ew, End me now. "
"I can go get a bag of flour if you like," She pointed over to behind the counter, but he was struggling to get the image of Marinette lifting heavy flour bags out of his head.
"If that's how I gotta go out, so be it." Wouldn't that be a way to go? Not by an Akuma or accident but by his crush, quite literally, crushing him.
Slowly Marinette pulled her own croissant out of her bag of food, never breaking eye contact with him as she bit down into it. The two of them sat there in a comfortable silence as they ate. If they where going to be late, Sabine would tell them.
It was now, in his barely awake state, that he realised how much more confident Marinette had become lately. Both in and out of school. No doubt it was caused by Alya, while he had no problem with it, he did wonder why Marinette had never let him and Kim deal with Chloé all those years ago.
Sure, Kim's view had been... Altered, over the years. As he had learned on Valentine's but back when Chloé started to be a brat they were more than willing to set her straight. Marinette, holder of his heart, had not wanted that. Had preferred peace. And here they were, Chloé as the class bully, Marinette just getting her confidence back, him barley able to stand up against someone when he wasn't in the suit.
Both of them were slowly unlearning such behaviours, ready to become the people they should have been so long ago. But they'd get there... Eventually.
-
"Mari..." He fiddled with his hands as they rested on the table, fingers intertwining. His head was slumped and he could barely keep his eyes open now that the coffee had passed out of his system.
Said girl hummed from behind him, her own coffee boost having bled out of her some time ago too.
"Is it... Is it too late to get that nap at your place?"
Class would end and lunch would begin soon, he was certain he wouldn't be able to make it the rest of the day without a little sleep. Mrs. Dupain-Cheng would make sure they weren't late and had lunch still.
it was one of the many reasons why he loved the Dupain-Cheng's.
"No such thing as, Too late for a nap, in my eyes." Marinette yawned into her hands and he had to fight off the blush at the image of her face scrunching up cutely. Like the way her nose would create up or her... OK, shaking his head he tried to ignore those thoughts.
The bell ringing hardly fazed them and both were stuck in there seats for a while longer. Long Enough that the two of them had to wave off Alya and Adrien respectively.
"So... You just wanna crash on the floor of the bakery or actually get to the sofa?"
Both huffed in tired amusement, her neither made a move to get up from there chairs. Too lethargic to even attempt to stand up, let alone get all the way to Mari's house.
"We having a sleep pile?" Nino jerked slightly at the voice that was right behind him, a quick peek showed Kim standing on the step above his tables level, looking down at the two of them. His bag was hanging off his back and he had a look of excitement in his eyes.
The sleep piles were something the three of them had done for so long, Nino couldn't remember a time when they didn't do it. It was simole, if two, or more, of them were tired they'd go to whoever's home was closest. Then collapse into a pile somewhere comfortable and just, sleep.
They'd done it since they were kids, they were going to keep doing it until they couldn't.
"Yes," Marinette yawned. "And if you help us get to mine... You can join too. "
"Yes!" Kim pumped his arm as the two of them groaned from his volume, if they didn't get some sleep soon they'd have killer headaches .
And Nino did not want to fight an Akuma with a headache. Quicker than anything Kim picked up their bags before slinging them over his shoulders.
Nino was halfway through attempting to stand when he felt Kim's hands grab him before he was suddenly slung over one of his shoulders, very disgracefully.
"Kim!" And judging by the head of dark hair, Marinette was slung over his other shoulder too. She was at least able to put up a little bit of a fight, just for a moment, before she slumped and let Kim take them away.
This was not the first time Kim had done this to them, so some people weren't that surprised to see it happening again. Although most were still surprised to see the jock carrying two of his classmates like sandbags.
They were two tires to really care about people looking, too tired to answer the questions sent their way. Even too tired to properly Greet Sabine when Kim got them through the bakery doors.
Much to Sabine and Tom's amusement.
Nino only snapped out of his haze for long enough to notice that Kim had taken to being their pillow, again, and that Marinette was leaning into his collar as his arms wrapped around her. Kim's arms were wrapped around both of them and someone had covered them in a blanket.
For one fleeting moment, Nino believed he was six again, back when things were so much simpler. Back to when he was just Nino, Not Carapace, Not an older brother, Not... Well, he didn't want to think about that last one.
Pulling Marinette closer to him he embraced her warmth as he dozed off, at least this time, he wouldn't wake up on some random rooftop in the middle of nowhere.
or maybe he would... You never knew when you were with Kim.
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davinciandwilde · 3 years
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El-ahrairah and the Black Rabbit of Inle: A Poem
Word traveled around, as these things oft do, and King Darzin found he had been made a fool
“I declare war on El-ahrairah and all he all he loves and his people. Whatever is left will be mine to rule
However they are too clever for me to trick them out of their homes, and so I will wait outside
They will come to eat but I will starve them, he cried
They will come for sunlight and I will chase them back into darkness
They will try but I will rip them of their fur and feast off the carcass!”
El-ahrairah tried every trick in his body, pushed his cunning and wit and charm
But no matter what he tried, or plan devised, it only raised that forsaken brass alarm
There was no solution to be found for King Darzin and finally, he realized
There was only one other now with the power to bring his enemies demise  
Now, The Black Rabbit of Inle is fur and everlasting darkness
When the snare is set, they know where the peg is driven, the grain of the wood, and the hardness
When the weasel dances, the Rabbit watches, induces foolishness and madness and sickness too
Some say they hate rabbits, but they serve Lord Frith and no more than their appointed task do they pursue
To bring about what must be and only by his will, they go by Frith’s promise
Though starless and cold, unyielding and grievous, a rabbit’s life, one way or another, is their providence
And they will protect and avenge any rabbit who may chance to be destroyed without the consent of himself
Though their name invokes fear, they are not of the Thousand, and they may be the last one who can help
All through the night, El-ahrairah thought and thought, and when morning came, to Rabscuttle he confessed
“No rabbit has tried, and my mind may be addled by hunger and fear, but it may have a chance of success
I will seek out the Black Rabbit and offer my own life in return for the safety of my people
If they won’t take it, I will find something else, whichever it may be, no matter how evil
You must bring it back, Rabscuttle, with or without me, to the save this warren.”
And so, they devised a plan; Later than even the last of twilight, the rabbits charged out roaring
The soldiers distracted, El-ahrairah and Rabscuttle flew into the grave-dark ditch and ran
They limped through a bad dream to that terrible place they bound for, where life is all but banned
Where they travel, the sun and moon mean nothing, and winter and summer less
The scrambled over splinters of slate among gray rocks bigger than sheep, upward over a crest
No sound but the trickling of water and sometimes a cry of some great evil bird
The mist got so thick that they couldn’t see and yet had no option but to endure
Above them, the cliffs hung like a dark roof, below a gaping grave that must be what they seek
Waiting still as lichen and cold as stone was the Black Rabbit of Inle, and El-ahrairah for the first time, felt meek
Carved from the mountain with their giant claws, the Black Rabbit’s burrow reflects its monarch
They speak with a voice of water that falls in echoing places in the dark
Their eyes were red with a light that had no light he had ever known
Like shadow, like mist, like stone, they smelled as clean as last year’s bones
“El-ahrairah why have you come? You are a stranger here.” They spoke, soft but regal
“My Sovereign,” he whispered, “I have come to give you my life. My life for my people.”
“Bargains, bargains,” The Black Rabbit drawled, “There is no day or night that I do not listen
To some honest Captain of Owsla for his chief rabbit or a doe offers her life for her kittens
Sometimes it is taken, sometimes it is not. But there is no bargain, for what is is what must be.”
El-ahrairah refused to leave, for if he could trick them into it, he knew the Black Rabbit would remain true
“You are my guest,” The Black Rabbit insisted, “if you refuse all else, at least let me entertain you.
My home is free and I will make you as comfortable as I can. Come let us play Bob Stones.”
“If I win, perhaps you will be as good as to accept my life in return for my people’s safety and home.”
The Black Rabbit paused but nodded. “I will. But If I win, I will have your tail and whiskers.”
So they sat in the cold and silence, and El-ahrairah tried not to flinch as the shadows hesitated and flickered
Under the eyes of the Owsla, even with Rabscuttle trying to ground him, his wits failed, then his spirit
But the Black Rabbit played without sound or change, like falling snow burying the sharp thicket
“You may pay your stakes to the Owsla and they will lead you to a burrow to rest, but remember this
If you are here tomorrow, I will see you, but you are free to leave whenever you wish”
In a hollow stone burrow with an opening to the mountain outside, Rabscuttle urged him to leave,
But El-ahrairah was convinced he could get the promise that he desired, that his people need
Rabscuttle returned and from clematis and ragwort fashioned whiskers and a tail
El-ahrairah returned and sat across from the Black Rabbit, weak in body but resolved to not fail
The Black rabbit sighed through their broad nose, though he could not tell if they were disappointed or scowling
“You must understand. I have no wish to make you suffer. I am not one of the Thousand”
“You may stay or leave as you please” they spoke, shaking their great coat, “But perhaps you might care to share a story.”
“If I tell as good a story as yours, perhaps you will accept my life and grant my people their safety and territory”
The Black Rabbit huffed with a bittersweet smile, “I will, but if not, you will forfeit your ears.”
They told a tale of fear and darkness that froze them where they crouched on the rock
And not even the warmth of Rabscuttle could stop the icy clouds in which his senses were locked
His wits turned, this body tharn, and the blood fled from his cheeks
When at least the Black Rabbit finished his dark and true tale, El-ahrairah was not able to speak
Dashed about like a mouse, twisted like a snare, the cords, the muscles of his neck taut
He awoke to see Rabscuttle weeping over him, shoulders shaking and far past distraught
“What good is this suffering? For the sake of Frith and Green Grass, let me take you home!”
“Nonsense,” he whispered just above his breath, “Two big dock leaves. They will do very well for ears of my own”
“They will wither” implored Rabscuttle, “As I am withered now, like a worm in the nut”
“For what I have to do, I cannot find the way, but I only need them to last long enough”
He kissed Rabscuttle’s tears away before he left through the maw of the cave
El-ahrairah racked his brain for a trick, any way to secure a weapon or the Black Rabbit’s aid
The Black Rabbit of Inle would not accept his life, and there is no wager he can win
Then why inflict these sufferings if they truly feel no ill will? What do they intend?
Why break him? Why not just send him away? Why not make a wager to force him away?
It hit him quite suddenly, for it was as obvious as can be: that was how. That was the way
They would not help him, perhaps could not, would break him if they must
But if he were to find a weapon, could they stop him? The thought was so simple, so blunt
His own consent. Nothing had happened, nothing taken, nothing bartered, without his own consent.  
Except with his own consent, they could not hurt him or sent him away. But could they prevent it?
With two weak dock ears dragging on the floor, he turned towards the narrow runs of the warren
The Owsla watched him crawl but he was past being afraid and finally one did gently caution
“Turn back, El-ahrairah; you have no business in this pit. You are alive and have suffered much already.”
“Not as much as my own people,” He proclaimed. His head felt light but his thoughts were heavy
“Oh, El-ahrairah,” The Owlsa breathed “There is enough suffering here for a thousand warrens
In these holes lie all plagues and diseases –fever, mange, sickness of the bowels, twisting of the organs
Look, They pointed, nearest to you is the White Blindness. Not even the Thousand will touch that body
This is our task, to see all ready for the use of Inle-Rah. For what is is what must be.”
El-ahrairah gave himself no time to think but plunged into the pit faster than a raindrop to the ground
The shadows flickered and gibbered, for except by fear for they had no power to move him from this ground
He did not know how long he lay, only that surely the infection had already began
He would have to be fast, he crawled out, To get to Rabscuttle and begin to plan
How to save his people, how to get home, how to infect the King’s army and his soldiers
He blundered into stone, cool against his burning skin, and it gently his shivering shoulders
“El-ahrairah,” a quiet voice whispered, reaching beyond senses, “where are you going?”
“You said I might go when I wished, my sovereign” He breathed, “so home I am going”
“You have some purpose, El-ahrairah. What is it?”
“I have infected myself with White Blindness, there, in that terrible pit
I knew the price would be my life, one way or another but I must go before I am too wearied”
“El-ahrairah, do you know how the White Blindness is carried?”
Silence
“By the fleas in rabbit’s ears.” The Black Rabbit confessed. “You can neither catch nor carry the White Blindness.”
El-ahrairah broke against their chest, the last of his senses bubbling with tears as a broken sob filled the silence
The Black Rabbit said nothing, held him, their claws gentle against his thin fur despite their appearance
“This is a cold warren. A hard place for the living and no place at all for warm hearts and brave spirits
You are a nuisance here. Go home. I myself will save your people.
Do not have the impertinence to ask me when, for time’s power here is, at best, feeble
“They are already saved, El-ahrairah. They are already saved.”
The moment came when King Darzin and his soldiers were jeering down into the land they razed
The falling darkness crept upon them like twilight, choked them with confusion and terror
From the darkness, red eyes stalked them from the thistles, an idea of a rabbit, but a shape of horror
Too tall and too short, hunched inward and protruding, prey with a predator’s gait
But the sound, the sound, it made a sound no rabbit should be able to make
King Darzin and his soldiers fled. The rabbits, whatever creatures they were, were never seen again
When at least El-ahrairah was able to rise, the Black Rabbit was gone, and Rabscuttle was calling his name
Together they went out those icy mountains, down the stone-rattling gully in the mist, back where they came
Away from the Black Rabbit, away from Inle-Rah’s silent Owsla, away from cold and stone
But El-ahrairah was sick with shock, even Rabscuttle’s muscle and fur were thin where it had once shown
They dug a scrap and laid down for several days, the green grass and dirt ‘neath them a renewed treasure
Later, they lost their way a few times, though they had many adventures,
Of course, El-ahrairah, even with wits and tricks, was still without whisker, tail, or ears, and so Rabscuttle became his all
Together, finally, they made it home, greater and greener than they ever recalled
The warren was bigger, with more holes, more families, and rabbits they could not recognize
When asked, they realized that many years had passed, the war a story told to kittens to terrorize  
They were only legends, him and Rabscuttle. All those they fought for were old or had died.
El-ahrairah sat down under a nut bush, looking out across the red fields in the dying light
“Are you angry, El-ahrairah?” Frith asked softly beside him, knowing they both saw the same bloody sight
“No my lord, I am not angry. I have learned that with creatures one loves,
Suffering is not the only thing for which one may pity them, or rather they have stopped or still run
A rabbit who does not know when a gift has made him safe is poorer than a slug, though he may think himself otherwise”
Frith sighed, knowing what he spoke of, how glamorized and dramatic it all became when truly, one had to only decide
“Wisdom is found on the desolate hillside when none comes to feed
And the stony bank where the rabbit scratches in vain before he will concede.”
But speaking of gifts, I have brought a few trifles for you.” He smiled softly,
“Here is a tail and a set of whiskers too. The ears you will find a bit strange
A bit of starlight in them, though it is quite faint, really a small change
Not near enough to give away a clever thief like you
Is Rabscuttle coming? Could you bring him? I have a gift for him too.
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girlsbtrs · 3 years
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Patriarchy and Pop Punk
Written by Theresa Cambe. Graphic by James N Grey
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Yes, misogyny exists in almost every genre of music. Rap and country are usually at the forefront of this conversation, however, today we’re going to dive into the misogyny in pop punk. Lets face it, the misogyny is just covered up with layers of nice-guy, sad boy introspection but deserves the criticism just like everyone else. Just because a man holding a guitar gets vulnerable for a second, it doesn’t mean he is exempt from possessing misogynistic tendencies.
Despite the sexism built into this genre, I am more than guilty of partaking in my fair share of pop punk music. I would try to be at every State Champs, Neck Deep, Real Friends, The Story So Far, and every band of the sorts in between, concerts in Southern California between the ages of 14-16. I finger pointed and yelled those angsty lyrics right back at the bands while crowd surfing towards the stage in whatever sweaty venue in LA they happened to be playing at the time. I bought the merch, I hung their posters up in my room, I reblogged their concert pictures on Tumblr, I was about it. And trust me, “No Good” by Knuckle Puck could come on shuffle again and have me passionately screaming the lyrics while driving alone in my car around my god forsaken hometown (but I love my hometown, contrary to the popular sentiment). However now, I am more conscious of its problems.
I think this is the case for many other non-male enjoyers of this music when they also recognize its misogyny. Of course, there is nothing wrong with enjoying pop punk nor do I think enjoying this music makes you a bad person or inherently anti-feminist. A good portion of the demographic for these bands are women. With this large and important part of the fan base, we should start considering the safety of the environments and attitudes they create.
The attitude of misogyny and objectification is built into the foundation of pop punk. It is apparent in whichever “wave” of pop punk you want to point to. Early Blink 182 and All Time Low music videos had women in them to be silent sexual objects parading around the rock star band. There’s Weezer’s infamous sexist, nerd-rock anthems. “Thank God for Girls” sings “Called upon to employ your testosterone / In a battle for supremacy and access to females glued to the TV”. In a Genius lyric annotation of the song, lead singer of the band, Rivers Cuomo himself wrote “I’m so jealous of the hooker-uppers. Seems like it’s so easy to get laid now. All these good looking athletic guys are getting so much free sex. It kills me. Such a bummer. Such a bummer. To be evaluated by women. To be graded. To be rated. Where do I stand? How big? How strong? How enduring? How energetic? How inventive? So sad that it comes to this. So sad. It IS a competition and I AM being compared”. It is really quite ironic that Cuomo writes this but in the same breath has lyrics “The thing I finally found with these other girls in town / She got hot, and they did not” from the song “The Girl Got Hot” and also “You come like a dog when I ring your bell / I got the money and I got the fame / You got the hots to ride on my plane” from the song “The Greatest Man That Ever Lived”. Then there’s also every song on the album Pinkerton that we don’t have time to get into. Even if this self-deprecating behavior is no surprise from Cuomo, it’s concerning and rooted in some serious hate. If you want to argue that it's all satire, they’re still weird thoughts to have.
I can go on about these recurring lyrical themes. For example, there is The Story So Far’s song “Roam” with the lyrics “I know where you’ve been, you’re ruining men, never again will I let someone in”. And the classic from “Mt Diablo” that sings “Do you look at yourself straight in the eyes and think about who you let between your thighs?”. Then there’s FIDLAR’s song “Whore” which as we can expect from the title, says “Why did you go betray me? / You’re such a whore”. Then there’s the mess of “Me vs. Maradona vs. Elvis'' by the band Brand New, which writes “I got desperate desires and unadmirable plans / My tongue will taste of gin and malicious intent / Bring you back to the bar / Get you out of the cold / My sober straight face gets you out of your clothes.” Look into any corner of pop punk and you’ll find these questionable attitudes, but I digress.
These men play the nice guys and aim at making you believe he is the protagonist in every situation. The commonality between all these artists is that they obsess and fantasize over a girl then turn completely sour once rejects them or leaves a relationship. They want a “cool girl” to listen to underground music and really comfort their sad, misunderstood selves but won’t allow them to make a decision outside of his own benefit. Because god forbid these women have their own thoughts and exercise their own actions! Their fantasy is essentially a manic pixie dream girl that doesn’t speak or act out against anything. These men beg to be at the center, and get aggressive when they aren’t.
This is not to be confused with writing a sad song after you got broken up with or hurt by someone in a relationship. This is also not to say that all women are exempt from having toxic behaviors or from being written about. The guise of the patriarchy also harms those it seeks to benefit and therefore enforces rules of masculinity that restricts men from expressing their frustrations and emotions. I believe that writing music about unrequited love or difficult feelings is a healthy way to combat these roles. However, there is a major difference between processing rejection and hating women for rejecting you, which is an area many of these men seem to blur together.
I still have love for these bands and this genre. I can still go to their shows and have the time of my life, easily. But it wasn’t until I got a little older and more realized with my femininity did I revisit these songs and wake up to the fact that it might have not always been in my favor . I was probably too young to notice or care and was distracted by the catchy, yelly tone and how fun it was to jump around to that I never really sat with what some of the lyrics really meant. It was a major factor in my own internalized misogyny back when I was in the throes of it all. I didn’t want to be like those awful girls that these pop punk dudes kept singing about. They were always described in such a terrible way, that all they do is betray and backstab people. They wanted a “cool girl” to understand them and not be like them. So I rejected femininity and disliked other girls as if I’m in this sort of competition for the sad band dude’s attention. I was idolizing these men whose music mainly centered around their disdain for the women they had experiences with so much that it stuck in my brain that I shouldn’t be like them, that I should be appeasing these people I look up to. But I’ve grown to realize that I was only hearing one side of the story. It was a straight white man’s voice constantly, no one else. This one sided narrative created a false perception of reality, one rooted in a sad boy victim complex, that women are the enemy that shouldn’t be trusted because they couldn’t fit the weird male fantasy these dudes possess. Rarely are women represented in this music except through the lens of a man, which as we saw is almost always disdainful or as a character rather than a fully realized and autonomous person. Women are portrayed as commodities to obtain. It alters our perception of reality.
But with most things you love, you want to see them get better. This music has a fond place in my heart and signifies a really fun time in my life where I found my love for music and concerts. But the genre and the spaces it creates has its own set of problems that I want to see improve.
We have to realize that music has a greater impact on culture. The attitudes that create the genre of pop punk affects the audience that consumes it. The one-sided narrative they build implants harmful ideas about relationships and dynamics into their young fans, as it did to me. Regardless if you want to say lyrics are just lyrics and are meant not to be taken so seriously, artists have so much influence on their fans. They are perpetuating the nice guy narrative that men are owed something from women. And sometimes we unfortunately see this point of view reflected in these band member’s actions. The accusations against them for sexual assault, grooming, and manipulation of young girls runs rampant in these spaces and remains to do so. They abuse their positions of power and influence. Using self-pity in songs does not excuse the shitty things you do.
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