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theold-ultraviolence · 1 year

Note

Hiya!! I asked this on Ao3 and you suggested I ask over here! So here I am Ahah. Love your work first off!!

So I was wondering if you could to like a part to the Aemond’s letters request? Where the reader starts writing them back? And keeps them for when he’s having a bad day and he opens them? And/or little notes lying around “Aemond, my husband, you got a nice rear” or lengthily love letters! I hope this makes sense!

Whispers Unsaid, PT. II / Part I

Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

A/N: Thank you thank you thank you, so much for requesting a second part of this! I got too into it that my hand slipped and it turned into more than I was planning lol. Hope you'll like this!! x // CW: fingering, PIV sex. Words: 3k.

“Dear Aemond…”

Wait, no, that’s not right, you think while scribbling over the words you’d written down with ink, forming a great black blob that’s just sullied a piece of the finest paper in all of the realms.

The paper is from that same block you’d gifted to your husband so he could journal his own thoughts, which were consistently fluent and poetic. You don’t know why you’ve decided to dive into this endeavor yourself, yet here you are, with rows and rows of ruined sheets of rumbled thoughts. This is truly a disaster.

“Your grace…”

Too formal.

“My fair husband…”

Too corny.

Coming up on a year of marital life and still you were indecisive over the most fitted term of endearment for a man as reserved as Aemond.

“My beloved.”

You finally land on something you deem appropriate.

The word sparks a fuzzy feeling within you – the same effect that you get while staring into your husband’s eye, or indulging in his embrace underneath the lavish covers of your shared bed.

But now that you’ve gotten the first phrase down…what else?

The quill in your hand drips ink blots onto the paper as you’ve got your hand suspended in the air whilst your mind goes blank, making you realize too late that you’ve ruined yet another letter.

This is just too difficult.

You ache to return the gesture that your husband so passionately crafts to ensure you’ll never doubt how deep his affection for you runs. However, while the spoken words that Aemond seemed to lack flowed like an endless river of black ink on paper, your own seemed to be comparable to a puddle in the street after the rain.

You’re talkative, yes, but that doesn’t necessarily aid you in this regard, quite the contrary. You thought a lot, felt a lot – so how to even begin untangling the long thread of your thoughts into a coherent string?

Does Aemond go through this same conflict each time he sits down to write?

You doubt it.

He always looks so calm and collected when you catch him through sleep-lidded eyes from the bed. Sometimes he sits by the fire with an engraved wood panel in his lap that he uses as a mobile writing desk.

You grumble, settling for something short and sweet.

“My beloved.

I must confess I’m feeling a little envious of your knack for writing. It is a great talent you possess and truly an arduous task that I feel might be beyond me. All I mean to express is that I hope to paint a smile on your precious lips, the moment you see this by the bedside. May this, along with the sun that rises on the horizon every morning to greet you upon waking, bring you a content start to your day. The sunbeams pale in comparison to your smile, my dear husband.”

There.

By Gods, let this suffice.

You take the little piece of paper and arrange it right by Aemond’s bedside table where he keeps his eyepatch, a hairbrush and a jug of water, before settling in on your own side of the bed, knowing sleep will take you before your husband returns from his evening duties.

And so deeply asleep were you, that you had missed it.

The way Aemond brought the note to his flushed chest, the minute he’d seen it awaiting him. The way it hadn’t been enough to read it once, so his eye kept scanning every line and dot and curve of your handwriting again and again.

The way he leaned down to press the softest of all kisses to your forehead, so soft he could’ve brushed your skin with a rose petal and you wouldn’t tell the difference.

This first note, he saves in one of the drawers of his desk, and comes back to it days later, in the morning as he’s getting ready for the day.

When he turns to the white sunlight from under the curtains, he can’t help but grin as your words echo in his mind and fill him to the brim with sentiment.

Just before he steps outside the door, you do catch that lingering smile on his lips – unbeknownst to Aemond that you’d been watching, all sleepy and basking in the warmth his body had left nestled in the bed.

Satisfied with his reaction, a new tradition begins.

–

“Good morning, my beloved.

May all who dare dare claim that they can outmatch you with the sword wither at your feet today during training. May you slay them all (not literally, unless they deserve it) and stand before them triumphantly. You do make an enticing sight from that angle. I wouldn’t oppose kneeling before my prince when he returns, as a prize for having won all his matches. I don’t even need to be there to know you will. And when you do come back, please do not bother with a bath. Something about you all flustered and flushed post-training drives me wild.”

He comes back to this note every time he stretches out his muscles in one corner of the room before parting to the training grounds.

Each note pulls a wider smile on his face every time, ‘till his previously hidden dimples are no longer unfamiliar to you.

Other times, when life gets a little daunting for Aemond, his thumb soothes over all the other wholesome letters that now form a great collection in his drawer – nearly spilling from it by now, making it hard to close it. He’s thinking he must get a proper silver chest to keep them safe, lest a handmaid peeks their noses through the contents of them while they clean.

“My beloved,

Have I ever told you that I think your face must’ve been carved by angels? I think you’re the most handsome man in all the Seven Kingdoms. Your beauty is like no other, and I am the luckiest ever to have been betrothed to you. One day I’m gonna take a piece of coal and trace all of your lines from memory, immortalizing you in a portrait so I can look at you whenever you’re away from me.”

“My beloved,

May I be so bold and say, how gorgeous you looked as you were being fitted for your new leather pants? I’m weak at the knees just recalling you moving around in them. May I be bolder still, describing in detail which part was it that I liked most? I’d rather show you, however.”

“My beloved, come back to me safely, I beg of you. Don’t spend more than a sunrise away from me, please. My little heart couldn’t bear it.”

Such brief, sweet notes, yet their effect on Aemond was more powerful and enduring than you imagined.

On this night, he walks with a little spring in his step as he traverses the long, stone corridors all the way to his quarters, all too excited to be reunited with you.

After all, tomorrow would commemorate the moment when you joined hands in marriage, and he was planning to begin the celebrations a bit earlier.

He opens the heavy, wooden door as gingerly as he can so as not to make much noise and be able to surprise you, walking with a carefully quiet gait, on his tiptoes, until the sight of you on his desk becomes clear.

His heart clenches when he registers you’re wearing one of his tunics as a nightgown, with nothing underneath. He knows then that you’d been pining for him as feverishly as he’d been pining for you all through the day, separated by obligations from dusk ‘till dawn when all you wanted was to be with one another.

That former hardened heart feels wild and ready to trespass the confines of his chest when he sees that on the desk, you’ve got several pages written down already. Your longest letter yet.

“Is that a surprise for me, my lady?” He pinches your sides and you yelp in surprise, quickly scrambling to cover the letters sprawled on the desk with your hands, piling them up so he wouldn’t even get a glimpse of their content – making Aemond chuckle as he fully envelopes you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Let me see!” He reaches one hand underneath yours to try to yank a page from you but you swat it away.

“No! It IS a surprise!” Your whines are futile for you’re being attacked by an onslaught of neck kisses.

“Oh, you’re going to deny your husband, my lady?” he whispers hotly in between nips and firm presses of his lips.

“No –” The power this man has on you, leaving you breathless with such simple ministrations, mere kisses and strokes to your sides are enough to melt away any resolve you had left in your body. “ – No, I was planning on giving you this tomorrow during our anniversary dinner.”

“Why wait when we can start the festivities right now,” he says right into your ear and while you’re already leaning back, fully molding your back against his chest and elongating your neck so he could keep marking you, still you keep your hold on your letter.

“Husband,” you look at him and smile playfully as if you were about to cave, but take an intake of breath before replying, “No.”

“No? You’re sure?” He bends at the knees and hoists you up, wrapping his arms so snugly around your frame to walk you back by force, all the way to the bed, making your tummy ache from how hard you’re laughing.

This is a whole new side to Aemond you’ve never, ever seen before – this child-like happiness.

You keep gasping, “No, no, no, husband!” in between your laughter. “Daor, Aemond!”

“Oh,” he chuckles, “you wish to tame the dragon? It won’t work on me, my dear.”

He grunts as he pushes you to the bed to straddle you, pinning your arms above your head with one hand while his other ventures inside the tunic of his you’re wearing, to properly roam the smooth planes of your body.

“Valzȳrys…” you plead as you manage to escape from his hold and he can’t even argue as you’re rapidly undoing each clasp of his leather tunic, revealing that chiseled chest you drool over even when you’re only fantasizing about it.

“Yes, that’s it. One year already, since I became that,” his breath tickles your neck as he’s murmuring against your skin, while his hand grazes upwards until he’s fondling one of your tits oh, so gently, rolling and pulling at the sensitive nipple between his thumb and index finger. “Ābrazȳrys…”

Husband and wife.

“Let me read my letter.” He can be so persuasive, when he settles on his side so he can cradle you to him, in order to comfortably palm every curve, trace your every line up and down as his teasing fingers arrive at the apex of your thighs.

You moan against his lips while desperately trying to undo his pants, but the feeling of two long, callused fingers prodding at your entrance to gather all of your wetness has your mind feeling like a ship whose sailors had long abandoned it due to the coming tide.

“You’ll read your letter tomorrow,” you manage to sigh, regardless of you clenching around him, the moment those fingers enter you unrestrained while his thumb anchors itself on your clit.

“Tell me what you wrote now.”

He softly orders – and you whine at the sudden loss when he separates from you to step out of his pants.

The sly man that he is, he snickers at the way you’re all desperate and needy for him, outstretching your arms in a silent plea that he grants immediately, straddling and entering you with one swift thrust.

“I’ll tell you,” you gasp and moan and grasp his shoulders, dig into the meat of them in tune with the clenching of your cunt, with the same force with which you wrap your legs around his back, akin the strength of a serpent constricting around its prey. “I’ll tell you if you make me cum.”

You smirk at how his bright eye widens, how his own lips curve into a devious grin before he groans and accelerates his pace, “Have I ever not delivered for you, princess?”

You’re left with no snark left when he pistons harder into you, making you slide further and further back on the bed.

Eyes that had been shut tight to focus on the languid pleasure now open wide in shock at the intensity of his thrusts – at the way his muscles bulge out and tense and the way strands of silver hair are coming out of the band that kept half of his hair back in place, framing his jaw in a way that’s too endearing for you in this moment.

You’re compelled to grab him by the nape of his neck and pull his face down to yours to kiss.

To kiss in a way that is more shared breath and messy licks and grunts against the corners of your mouth, than anything else.

And it’s absolutely divine.

Because it adds momentum to the vortex building up in your core, which twists and twists until one long cry claws its way out of your throat as your neck arches back from the sheer power of it – a taut line presented for him to nibble away and bite as his hips start faltering in their pace.

He groans, with one – two – three more pumps of his cock before he’s hissing as he pulls away just in time to spill himself all over your stomach.

There’s a fleeting thought about heirloom and royal duties to be filled, but it passes as quickly as a shooting star would.

That’s a concern for some other time.

Right now, all that the both of you desire is to bask in your shared afterglow, lying side by side as he soothes his fingers across your back and you idly switch between scratching his scalp and untangling his hair.

“Bring over your letter,” you mumble, nearly on the brink of sleep with the moon high up in the Westeros sky behind your window. “I’ll read it to you.”

He almost shakes his head no, delighting in your drowsy state when you’re most clingy and open. But a part of him was just too giddy, too excited – he mentally berates himself for acting up on his childish impulses.

He jolts from the bed, collects all the pages scattered on the desk and brings them back to the bed.

Hours later, with you lightly snoring against his chest and him wide awake staring at the passing of time manifested in the dimming light of the moon outside, his heart beats as your words are endlessly turning on his mind.

“My beloved,

How genuinely happy it makes me to have woken up next to you for a whole year. If I can be truthful, I confess I grew up dreading the day I’d be betrothed.

I thought, what if my family marries me off to some older lord, or a tyrant king, or someone repulsive, arrogant, heartless…? I didn’t even want to grow up, though age has never been a hindrance when pairing up a match between families. I didn’t want my life to be lived miserably. All I’ve ever wanted was to be happy.

Often, I even dreaded not being matched at all. Dread being left all alone and forgotten, not considered a worthy suitor to anyone.

In either scenario, the outcome would remain eternal solitude.

But then you came along, my beloved prince.

When I first saw you, I was in awe. There was no denying your beauty; the allure in the way you mysteriously loomed over the court.

While my attraction was immediate, I was intimidated to say the least. Always so silent, brooding, stiff. I wondered what kind of secrets you kept in that lovely head of yours. I wondered if you found me pleasing.

Over time I’ve learned all the intricacies and quirks that make you, you. I love every single one, even the ones that should be infuriating; like how you snore, how you think everything is resolved with brute force, the way your sarcasm sometimes knows no bounds during dinners with the family, and how you huff and skulk when things don’t go the way you want them to on the first try. All of these things I take, along with the way you kiss me with unmatched passion, how you protect me from leering gazes, how you hold me when I’m feeling anxious, your kindness despite what you’ve lived, your fierce loyalty, and all the knowledge you possess – I swear you’re a living anthology, I could ask you anything about the wonders of the world and you’d have an in-depth answer for me. I admire you, husband.

I love you.

I will always love you, ‘till the day I die.

I thought that feeling like this was a myth, that it only happened in fairytales. But I have truly found the one person I wish to share my last dying breath with.

I hope the Gods will grant us all the time in the world. Because my love for you is most ardent and overflowing.

The time will come when it is our duty to produce an heir; I’ll love our offspring even more than my own life, because they will be equal parts of you and me. But all in its due time. For now, I wish to relish the time I have alone with you, keep getting to know you. Keep getting to know us.

Thank you for giving me a year of genuine happiness, when I thought that that would never be a possibility for me.

Here’s to more, my beloved.”

Before Aemond knows it, the moon has bid its farewell and the sun is shyly making its entrance, letting him see the dusty spears of light that come through the curtains.

The moment you stir in his arms, he looks down and tightens his hold, wanting to preserve this moment for a little longer while your words finish the task of cracking open his heart, akin a dragon breaking out of his egg, welcomed into a new life.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #reader insert #female reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen smut #hotd #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #my writing

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blushstories · 2 years

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Omg hi! I don’t know how you would feel about it (if this make you uncomfy or you don’t know how to exactly write this you can ignore this request ☺️) but could you do a request on a gn! chronically ill reader needing to start using forearm crutches (mobility aids) due to their health declining and Mark does his best to help reader learn to use them, Steven jokes with reader and Jake reassures reader anytime they use them the wrong way? (I have to start using them during flare ups and I’m anxious about it) thank you!

hi u lovely person i didn't want to ignore this but equally i really hope this is accurate <3 love u lots <3

"Careful. Hold it like- no, yes. Like that," Marc's hands hover over you while you find your footing, hiding a grimace behind a tight smile. You wobble, and his hands hold your waist steady until you still again. He takes a step back and surveys your stance, pursing his lips. His stare makes you uncomfortable, self-conscious, even though he is trying to help, and figure out the best way for you to use them.

"This feels weird," you frown, staring a hole into the floor and gripping tighter to the hard plastic handles. "You just gotta find your balance. What, is it too uncomfortable?" You nod.

Marc disappears into the chest of drawers next to the bed. When he comes back, he has a mischievous glint in his eye and the corners of his mouth are quirked. He reveals two pairs of fuzzy socks folded into his palms; one's design held constellations and moons. The other was of small, colourful fish among a coral reef.

Your heart swells.

"Which one d'you want?" He asks, holding them up alternately as if they were on a scale. You hum, melodramatically taking your time to make your decision. "Both?"

Marc-no, Steven's eyes widen and a smile erupts onto his face. "Both sounds amazing, can I put them on?" He asks, an excitable lilt to his voice. You nod again with a smile that threatens to show your teeth. One at a time, you lift up a hand to allow him to slip a sock onto each handle. "There we go, like a glove. Now you're really going to be moving in style!"

You giggle, and watch him discard the leftover socks on the bed. "C'mon, let's take a step, yeah?" He takes a step back and beckons you towards him. You shuffle the foreign tools forwards a little, before pushing your weight into them. But you're unsteady, and almost slip, a sound of frustration escaping you. He catches you rather quickly, and guides you to sit on the bed again. "Can I...?" He gestures to one of the crutches. You hold it out to him, and he takes it with curiosity sitting behind his eyes. Then, he wields it like a walking cane in a Charlie Chaplin-esque fashion, and tips his imaginary hat. It's wacky and energetic and it crushed your momentary irritability as you beam at him. He seems proud of himself.

"You ready to go again?"

"I think so."

He gives you the crutch again. "Alright, up you go," Steven's voice encourages you up as he hovers behind you, in a similar way to Marc. You try again, stepping forwards with all your energy, and take one step, two steps, but the sudden pain takes you by surprise, and you lower yourself to the floor.

With the hot pain, your body felt hot and stuffy, and soon enough the frustration was back, bubbling under your skin. Tears of frustration slip down your cheeks and you contemplate giving up. But a presence kneels behind you.

"Respira, mi vida. You can do it. You're doing so good," Jake whispers. You take a deep breath with him, calling upon any universal force for patience. "Can I help you up?"

You let him stand you up, and he whispers small but significant encouragements into your ear as you begin to get the hang of it, and with Jake's reminders to breathe, you're able to do laps of the apartment by the end of the afternoon.

Jake massages your sore forearms with his thumbs when you decide to rest, planting small kisses along the skin. "We knew you could do it, cariño."

idk if jake being so soft is too ooc but he's cute abt it so ill let it slide for this one :]

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chickenfics · 2 years

Text

Team ‘Weekend Trip to Asgard’

Relationship: Loki x Fem!reader (SFW)

Summary: When Bruce invited you to a quick weekend getaway, you’d hardly expected your destination to be Asgard. Just like you’d hardly expected to be accompanied by two gods – one of whom you’re convinced hates your guts. But who would have thought that the God of Mischief has a thing for flowers, a talent for reciting Shakespeare, and knowledge of all the best places for stargazing? Certainly not you.

But in a weekend filled with sunny fields and boisterous feasts, with accidental skinny dipping and drunken magic tricks, you would begin to realize all the different ways Loki could surprise you.

Word count: 8.5k

A/N: I work with horses as my real-life job (lol), so apologies for all the random and unimportant horse facts in this chapter, I just couldn't help myself. Also I'm convinced Loki is a horse girl, sooooo... Content warning: talk of shitty parents, some mildly suggestive themes, take a shot every time you read the word 'dick' (just kidding, don't do that lol)

Also on Ao3

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Chapter 8

You couldn’t have been asleep for very long. In fact, you swore you’d just nodded off when someone was tugging on your shoulder. It took your body a minute to even register the touch, considering how desperately you were trying to regain your sleep, but after that minute, you couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Blinking your eyes open, you were startled to find a certain God of Mischief staring at you from a few inches away.

“What the--”

“Sh, shhhh sh,” he put a finger to his lips, then reached out as if he was going to do the same to you but decided against it.

“Get up -- come on. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“Oh Lord,” you muttered as he helped -- more like dragged -- you to your feet. “Why am I suddenly afraid.”

“What, you are?” he stopped, seeming a bit wounded.

“No, Loki,” you sighed, smiling weakly. “Just-- what time is it, anyway?”

“Mm, an hour or so before sunrise. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I don't know… What’s the surprise?”

“Oh, right. Come on, come on,” he once again began guiding you out of bed.

“Wait -- oof, Loki,” you pulled back, nearly falling over as your dress tangled up around your legs. “Shouldn’t I maybe change first?”

Loki straightened up, scanning you from head to toe before biting back a smirk.

“Yeah probably. We don’t need any additional reasons for your already poor mobility to be inhibited.”

“Okay, it is way too early for all of… that,” you waved a hand at him, and Loki opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to throw you over his shoulder or something.

Thankfully, he didn’t.

“Do you mind maybe…” you gestured towards the door.

“Oh. Yes, of course. Don’t go back to bed, though. I’m trusting you.”

“Yeah yeah, alright. Just, give me a damn minute, okay?”

Loki huffed, but he was having an increasingly hard time keeping a straight face as he ducked around the curtain. You couldn’t help but notice how he carefully arranged it so it was covering the doorway before stepping aside.

Shaking your head fondly, you changed and grabbed your canvas bag, assuming you wouldn’t be coming back to the palace any time soon.

Between getting up so quickly and all you’d had to drink last night, you could feel a headache starting at your temples. Loki must not have worked his magic like last time.

You mentioned as much when you joined him outside your room.

“No Loki hangover cure this morning?” You joked, rubbing your aching temple and trying to clear the fuzziness from your eyes.

“Oh right, nearly forgot about that,” Loki replied, and then without warning, he reached forward and grabbed your head between his hands.

Green tendrils of magic filled your peripheral, and after a quick buzzing sensation, all traces of your headache were gone. Before you even had a chance to react, Loki removed his hands from your head and flashed a quick, toothy smile.

“Now, where were we? Are you ready? We really should be going…”

“Yep, lead the way,” you sighed, wondering what you were getting into.

You’d never seen Loki this… excited? You’d seen him impatient when you’d all first arrived on Asgard, and he’d been distinctly moodier than he was right now. No, this seemed more like excitement than anything else, though the impatience was certainly still there.

That was evident enough by the way you had to practically run to keep up with him and his long-ass legs. But once you’d reached the front doors to the castle, Loki slowed so you could catch up with him. Waiting until you were by his side, he held out an arm.

When you glanced up at him, completely at a loss, he must have seen it on your face as he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“This is the part where you take my arm, darling.”

“But… I… wh--”

“Oh, just do it, would you,” Loki muttered. It was supposed to sound annoyed, but you weren’t fooled. “You’re about to walk through Asgard with a prince. This is how we do things. It’s just a formality.”

“Really?” You skeptically replied as you laid your hand in the crook of his bent elbow. “Because it feels like you’ve just asked me to marry you or something.”

“Please,” Loki scoffed as the two of you headed for the steps.

“Hey! What, am I that bad?”

“No,” Loki quickly insisted, eyes widening slightly in what you assumed was internal panic. “That’s not what I meant, I just… oh, I don’t know, I…”

“Okay,” you reassured him, moving closer so you could nudge your arm against his. “Don’t hurt yourself. It’s no big deal.”

“Hmm,” he sighed, but there was relief hidden behind his defensiveness. You could tell.

Rubbing his arm in a quick gesture of reassurance, he led you past the guards, who gave friendly nods -- which Loki did not reciprocate, so you had to do enough for the both of you -- and out into the streets of Asgard.

You noticed an immediate switch. One might have thought he looked especially disinterested, maybe even relaxed, but you could feel how tense he was. His eyes wandered building to building, scanning down every alleyway, peering into every hidden nook. It was like he was certain that someone was after him.

You couldn’t understand, as you’d just passed through here yesterday and everyone had seemed friendly enough. But you supposed that, for Loki, it was different. He did have a bit of a reputation in Asgard. Why hadn’t you considered that before? With as much as Earth hated him, you wondered if the people of Asgard also had some conflicting thoughts on the prince. Or ex-prince, technically.

It made you sad. Loki had been kind to you. Sure, you knew that he’d done some not-so-great things in the past, but it wasn't fair for him to not have somewhere he could be shown love and understanding. Everybody needed that -- even Loki, though you probably couldn’t have tortured the admission out of him if you tried.

It was unfortunate that he didn’t have a place where he could just be seen as himself in this present moment and not the person he used to be.

Lost in your thoughts as you were, you hardly paid attention to where the god was leading you. Which was probably why you didn’t notice when the houses began to thin, or the appearance of wide open, fenced-in fields stretching in the distance.

That is until Loki stopped next to you.

You glanced over at him first and then turned to get a look at your surroundings. You were outside the most beautiful-looking stable you’d ever seen in your life. Not that you’d seen a lot of stables, but still; this one was certainly the nicest -- probably that you’d ever see.

“Loki…” you hesitantly started, voice already tinged with excitement. “What are we doing here?”

But he didn’t get a chance to answer before a tall, stocky woman was making her way through the double doors of the building.

“Your Majesty,” she gave a quick, fairly informal bow before grinning up at him. “It is good to see you back. How long’s it been? Months?”

“Lady Ingunn,” Loki smiled. “I haven't the slightest. You know how time works differently on Midgard.”

“Well, no matter. It’s been too long,” she replied, and Loki gave a nod of agreement.

Then, with a wave of her hand, she gestured for the two of you to follow her back towards the stable.

“The horses you requested are ready for you. They’re eager to get going, I’m sure. Anyhow, they won’t be needed back until tonight. I trust you’ll take good care of them,” she passed a wink over her shoulder, and Loki smiled faintly.

“Yes, of course. They couldn’t be in better hands,” he replied.

You had no idea what was going on.

You’d never seen polite Loki before, and it was certainly a sight. But you supposed that charm was Loki’s whole thing, so it shouldn’t be exactly surprising; it was just… different. You could see how Loki would be able to talk his way out of -- or into -- any situation he so desired.

The woman -- Ingunn, as Loki had referred to her -- pulled open the wide barn doors. She took one, pushing it in the opposite direction, and you jumped to push the other. Turning back around, she smiled at you.

“Thank you,” she nodded, then led the way into the dimly lit stable.

The inside was roomy, with a wide aisle and big stalls lining either side. A few of them were occupied by horses, just as big as the ones you had ridden across the Bifrost, who were eating lazily or dozing off.

In the middle of the aisle, two horses were tied to rings along the wall, elegant saddles on their backs. Immediately you noticed that one of the horses was black, much like the one you’d ridden your first night on Asgard.

“Is that?”

“Mhm,” Loki nodded, smirking at the way your face lit up.

“They’re all yours,” Ingunn announced, giving Loki another small bow before laying a hand on his arm. “It's nice to see you again, my Prince. If you find the time to stop by before your departure, it would bring me much joy. But until next time…”

“Goodbye, My Lady. Thank you again for your kindness,” Loki replied, giving a genuine smile and a modest bow.

With one last fond look at him, the woman nodded to you and then turned and disappeared to the other side of the large barn.

You had so many questions whirling around in your head. Who was that lady? Or more importantly, who was she to Loki, for him to feel so relaxed around her? You had the idea that there was a story to it, but you felt that it probably would have been a little nosy to ask. Loki would tell you if he felt like sharing -- otherwise, it wasn’t really your business. You weren't focused on your curiosity for long, however, as your attention was stolen by the two horses in front of you.

“What’s going on?” You asked somewhat dreamily, and Loki didn’t even bother to hide his grin.

“I thought you might like to go on a ride with me this morning, and by the look on your face it seems that I thought correctly.”

“Well that’s a little presumptuous of you, Prospero,” you chuckled. “But yes. You thought correctly.”

It would have pained you to admit it had you not been so excited. And the way that Loki’s smile deepened, you decided that maybe it hadn't been a bad thing after all.

“Shall we?” He held out his hand, gesturing to the horses, and you nodded eagerly.

Tip-toeing up to the black horse, you held out a hand. It lowered its muzzle, sniffing you curiously -- probably looking for treats -- and your eyes widened as you ran a finger over the silky hair along its nose.

“It’s so soft,” you whispered.

Loki, who had moved around the black horse and was now standing next to his mount, laughed softly.

“Indeed. I could never get enough of that feeling as a boy. Still can’t…” He ran a hand down the other animal’s grey muzzle.

His horse was the stark opposite of yours, pearly white. One of its eyes was black, and the other was bright blue.

“Do they have names?” you shyly asked, suddenly feeling like a little kid. But Loki seemed more than happy to answer your question.

“Yes, all of the animals here do. This,” he nodded to the white horse, still petting its neck. “Is Tove. It means dove, in your language.”

“I can see the resemblance,” you nodded.

“And your friend there is Yrsa. She-bear.”

“She’s a girl?” You turned back towards your horse. For some reason, you’d assumed it was a male. You got the idea that Yrsa was laughing at your look of surprise.

“A mare, yes,” Loki nodded.

“What about yours?”

“Also a mare. The lads and ladies tend not to mix very well.”

You laughed at that, face breaking into a smile, and Loki watched you with a timid, amused expression.

“You know a lot about horses?” It was half a question, half a statement. More of a ‘please, go on.’ You liked to hear Loki talk.

“A little, perhaps,” he tilted his head, playing absentmindedly with Tove’s mane.

“You… said that you were around them as a boy?” A hesitant question this time, not wanting to push.

“Why don’t we get moving and then I’ll tell you all about my childhood adventures, hm?” Loki replied with a smirk.

You quickly nodded, very excited to get started. Patting Yrsa’s neck, you turned around at the feeling of Loki growing close behind you. Leaning over your shoulder, he helped you untie the lead, handing you the reins.

“Now,” he instructed, hovering near you. “Stay to her left, right by her shoulder, here,” he pointed to where the horse’s front leg attached to her muscular body, guiding you backward until you were standing in the correct place.

“Mind her feet,” he added, and he watched you carefully as you led the horse forward -- feeling more confident than you would have expected.

You knew it was probably silly, but there was something trustworthy in Yrsa’s eyes that put you at ease. Or maybe it wasn’t silly, considering this was an Asgardian horse. She could have started speaking English and you wouldn’t have been that surprised.

Loki led you over to a sort of step-stool, which you assumed you were supposed to mount from. But when you got up onto it, with Loki holding the horse, you realized that you still couldn’t reach.

“Um…” you wondered aloud, not exactly sure what to do.

“Here,” said Loki softly. Releasing the reins, he laced his fingers together and held them out level with your knee.

“Oh, are you sure, I don’t want to--”

“It’s not a bother,” Loki interjected, reading your mind. He moved his hands closer to you as if to say ‘come on, we haven’t got all day.’

“Okay,” you whispered, taking a deep breath.

Grabbing onto the front of the saddle, you placed your left foot carefully in Loki’s palm.

“One, two, three,” Loki sang, then hoisted you up like you weighed about as much as a sack of potatoes.

He may have overcompensated a bit, as you nearly fell right off the other side of the horse.

“Woah there,” he muttered, grabbing the seat of your pants and holding you still. “Apologies.”

“It’s okay,” you managed, shaking your head. You struggled to find the stirrups for a moment, and Loki watched you with a surprising amount of patience as you finally got your feet into them. Then he handed your the reins and said,

“Would you like some pointers, or shall I leave you to it?”

“Pointers, please,” you replied. Then, with a small smile, added, “I like hearing you talk about this kind of stuff.”

Loki opened his mouth, squinting up at you like he expected you to start laughing at him or something. When you simply looked back down at him attentively, he took a quick breath.

"Okay… Firstly, and the most important thing,” he reached out and grabbed your foot.

“Keep your heels down. This keeps you upright in the saddle -- also very important.”

“Heels down,” you nodded, flexing your calves so your heels were pointed towards the ground.

“Good. Now, sit up nice and tall, shoulders back,” he reached out, laying a hand on the shoulder closest to him, and you pushed them back.

“Don’t stiffen up, though. Relax, you want to be able to move with the horse’s stride, otherwise you’ll bounce right off.”

“Right, okay.” You tried to relax, brow furrowing. This was a lot to keep track of.

A corner of Loki’s mouth bunched.

“You’re adorable when you concentrate.”

“Hey, I’m trying,” you laughed, suddenly very aware of what your face was doing.

“Yes I know, darling, I can see that,” Loki replied, and you felt heat creep up your neck.

A moment later, he was leading Tove out, swinging up onto her back and settling elegantly into the saddle. Immediately, the horse began to move, prancing slightly, though Loki seemed perfectly relaxed.

“Alright,” he continued. “How do you feel? Good?”

You nodded.

“Okay. Don’t go anywhere.” He held up a hand, then spun around and headed for the barn.

“Now, horses are taught to move away from pressure. You can use your reins to steer, but also your legs and hips.”

As if to demonstrate, Trove began to move sideways without Loki even touching the reins.

“How’d you do that?” You gaped.

“Applied pressure with my left leg, got her to go right. Simple.”

You weren’t so sure it was as simple as he thought it was. Maybe for him.

“You’re really good at this, aren’t you?” You mused, smiling almost proudly.

“Yes. Yes I am,” he grinned, leaning closer to you with a cocky wink. But then his teasing demeanor fell, and he gave you a very intentional look.

“Just… you be careful. Everyone knows that mortals are notoriously fragile and I’d prefer you not get hurt. Especially on my watch.”

His concern for you made your insides fill with warmth, which escaped through a fond smile that nearly made your cheeks ache.

“I will. Thank you, Loki.”

The god’s nose wrinkled.

“Well don’t thank me, I haven’t done anything.”

“No, I know. It’s just nice, you thinking of me.”

Somehow, his face screwed up even more.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Come on.” To get out of the conversation, he spurred his horse forward into a quick trot.

“Hey, not fair, asshole! -- He’s a hot mess,” you muttered to Yrsa, and she bobbed her head, which made you jump. “Okay, if you can understand me, I just want you to know that I have no clue what I’m doing, so please be gentle.”

Giving her a hesitant little tap with your heels, she began walking forward. Loki had made it halfway down the barren street already and had spun around, waiting for you to catch up. As much of a show as he had put on, it was obvious he didn’t intend to leave you floundering -- even if he was much better than you at all of this. Or perhaps because he was.

Still not feeling confident but figuring it was now or never, you kicked the mare’s sides again. She started off at a slow trot, which gradually grew in stride. As you caught up to Loki, he spun his horse around.

“Here comes the fun part,” he called, and then he gave his horse a kick. Tove took off at a brisk canter.

“Shit, fuck -- alright Yrsa, I’m trusting you…”

You kicked the mare’s sides, and she jumped forward. Yelping, you grabbed onto the saddle as she began to gallop after Tove and Loki. But once again, you quickly found yourself settling into the stride, and by the time you caught up to Loki, you had both hands on the reins and were leaning into the lope.

Flashing you a smile as you entered his peripheral, Loki gave you a little wave. You waved back, perhaps a bit less elegantly, and he yelled for you to follow him. Nodding, you got to test out your steering abilities as Loki turned his mare towards the right, heading towards a wide-open field.

Tugging your right rein, you squeezed your legs and sure enough, Yrsa followed your lead. Or maybe she was just following her friend. Either way, you were glad to have such a smart horse taking care of you.

Breaking out onto the grass, you felt the horse’s muscles work beneath you as she tore up a small incline. Sitting tall as Loki had instructed, you had to remind yourself to keep your heels down and relax your body. It really was a lot to keep track of, but you hadn’t fallen off yet, so that was something at least.

The incline quickly leveled out, and you guided your horse next to Loki’s. The two mares seemed content to travel side by side, and the pace was comfortable enough that you could catch a glimpse of your surroundings.

The sun was just beginning to break over the horizon, setting the meadow in a gilded glow. The ground was fairly barren, and from what you could tell from the blur of plant life, it all seemed dry.

A few trees sprung up here and there, and you even passed a large stone cave at the base of a hill. About ten minutes into your ride, you saw a large black blob in the distance. Not long after, the blob began to grow until you could make out the trunks of trees. It was a forest.

Loki waited until reaching the edge before reining his horse back. You followed, wondering how the animals had been able to run for so long without breaking a sweat. Was that an Asgardian thing or just a horse thing? You had no clue.

Pulling up next to Loki, you sat in silence for a moment, the both of you catching your breath and getting your bearings. Just like last time, now that the adrenaline had left you felt your limbs trembling slightly -- though this time it was more from the physical exertion than anxiety.

“That was… amazing,” you laughed breathily and gave Yrsa a pat on her neck.

Loki hummed, smiling to himself.

“We’ll take it slower through here,” he gestured to the woods.

“Wait, we’re going in there?”

“Of course,” was his reply, and without further explanation, he nudged Tove forward. The mare began picking her way along the forest floor.

“Is that safe? For the horses, I mean?” They seemed way too big to be weaving through trees and worrying about where they were stepping.

“Yes. They’re bred for this sort of thing, despite their size. These girls are especially careful, so we’re in good hands. Well, good hooves….”

“Was that,” your mouth fell open, torn between disbelief and delight. “Oh my god, was that a joke? That was absolutely awful, I’m so proud of you.”

You laughed as Loki threw a glare over his shoulder. But despite the grumpy front he was attempting to put up, he reined his horse back so that you could catch up before continuing forward.

“Careful, mortal. You test my patience.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, raising your chin skeptically. “See, I feel like if that were true, you wouldn’t keep spending so much time with me.”

Loki fell silent, then, pretending to study something off in the distance.

“I’m glad you do.”

“What?” he turned to look at you, his eyebrows tilted in anticipation.

“That you keep spending time with me. I’ve had a lot of fun, doing stuff with you.”

Loki stared at you, brow drawing further together with an expression of honest confusion.

“You have?” He mused.

“Yeah. I have."

“Hm…” He looked away, seeming to get lost in his own thoughts.

You let the silence hang for a little while, enjoying the quiet sounds of the forest and the horses making their way between the trees. Morning sunlight was pouring through the branches, lighting the leaves up in a glowing green. You craned your neck up, taking a deep breath of the cool forest air.

“So,” you eventually began. “Pretty sure you owe me a story about your childhood adventures.”

Snapping out of his daze, Loki raised his eyebrows and gave a somewhat pained smile.

“Do you really want to hear about that?”

“You know, I think you’re the first person to ever say that to me,” he muttered, smirking.

You nodded adamantly. You really, really did. “I told you, I like hearing you talk.”

You couldn’t help but wonder if that was because he talked to you differently than most people because otherwise, you weren’t sure how everyone didn’t find Loki interesting. Didn’t like hearing him talk about Shakespeare or his boyhood adventures as a fairy prince.

Yeah, you were going to guess that he didn’t go around telling people that sort of stuff. Why he’d told you, you still weren’t sure. But you were glad that he had.

“Alright, what do you want to know?”

“I’m an open book.”

Your arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

“You are far from an open book, but alright…” you thought, fiddling with your reins. “Okay, what about that woman at the stables? Who was she?”

Loki shifted in his saddle, and you wondered if somehow you had already asked the wrong question.

“She was a friend of my mother,” he replied, his voice sounding distant and bittersweet. “The two of us, my mother and I, used to go on rides sometimes when she could get out of her queenly duties. Ingunn has been running the stables since I was a baby.”

You nodded thoughtfully.

“So you used to ride a lot as a child, then?”

Loki nodded.

“I loved being around the horses. When you’re small, they seem so… powerful yet gentle. I felt like myself around them, like I didn’t need to pretend or be someone -- I could just be who I was, without any effort.” He trailed off. You didn’t interrupt the silence, and a few moments later, he continued.

“Ingunn would let me sneak into the stables. My father never wanted me to spend time there -- outside of my training, of course. He felt that it was a waste of time. And my mother… she just didn’t want me out riding alone for fear I’d hurt myself. And I did,” he chuckled. “Many times, so I suppose she was right. But of course, I didn’t listen.”

“Of course not,” you laughed softly. “So… what would you do, when you were disobeying your parents?”

This made Loki laugh.

“You’ll have to be more specific, my dear,” he teased. “In this instance, of which there are many others, I would steal a horse and ride through the woods much like we’re doing now.”

“But, it wasn’t technically stealing, right? If Ingunn helped you do it.”

“I suppose not,” he smirked. “But to me, it felt like stealing. I liked to pretend I was a runaway from the palace, escaping my old life in search of a new one….” a faraway look captured his face, making his sharp features look delicate and breakable in a way that made your heart twist.

But he shook his head and moved past it, and so you tried to as well.

“Tove here was my partner in crime,” he patted the mare’s neck.

“You mean, you rode her as a boy?” you asked in disbelief. “How old would that make her?”

“Much older than you,” Loki mischievously replied. “These horses can live for hundreds, even thousands of years, unlike your Midgardian species.” He tilted his head, frowning. “It was one of the things that I found quite sad about Midgard. It’s a shame that your horses only have a few decades at best.”

Now that was interesting; Loki admitting that he’d found something sad about Midgard, and to have it be something as small as the lifespan of horses, especially when all you’d heard from him was contempt for Earth and its inhabitants…

It had your mind reeling.

“My mother first taught me how to ride on this horse,” Loki continued, and you shook your head to focus.

“That’s nice,” you smiled, and Loki glanced up at you with a thoughtful expression.

The silence returned, but it was comfortable, and you both settled into it like it was the most natural thing to occur. Barely half an hour had passed before the trees started to thin.

Breaking out into a clearing, you looked around, suddenly feeling something familiar about this place.

“Hey,” you spoke up. “This is the meadow. That’s the tree.” You pointed off into the distance, where the tree you and Loki had read under sat, looking like a little toy in the distance.

“Yes, very good, “ Loki sarcastically replied. You’d just been about to tell him he shouldn't be so mean when you noticed the very intense gleam in his eye.

“What?” you asked, voice dripping with apprehension.

“Want to race?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Uh… I don’t know. Feels like you might have the upper hand on this one,” you replied, matching his sarcasm.

“Well, that’s nothing new. Come on, let’s do it. Loser has to… tell an embarrassing story about themselves.”

“What are you, twelve?” You snorted.

“You’re just stalling ‘cause you know I’ll win.”

“Yeah,” you confidently replied. “I do.”

“Oh come on, I’ll go easy on you.”

There seemed to be no getting out of this one. When Loki wanted something, he usually got it. You didn’t need to have known him long to know that.

“Okay, fine,” you groaned, and Loki lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Wonderful. On the count of three?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” you replied, feeling a flutter of anxiety, even though you were actively trying to keep the smile off of your face.

“One.” You shifted in the saddle.

“Two.” Heels down.

“Three!”

You kicked Yrsa in the side, and she lunged forward, taking off so quickly that you had to grab onto the saddle for support. Leaning into her strides, you urged her forward as Loki and Tove entered your peripheral.

The white horse’s neck was stretched out, legs pounding against the dirt as she began to pass you. Loki, looking princely as ever, was grinning like the devil, his hair furling wildly around his head.

You weren’t surprised when they passed you, and though you could feel Yrsa trying to keep up, you also got the idea that she was holding back, probably for your own sake. You couldn't fault her for taking care of you, so you decided to sit back and enjoy the ride.

Loki reached the tree first, spinning in a circle to look back at you. The mare stood at attention, nostrils flaring and ears pricked as she watched the two of you catch up. Pulling back on the reins, you sat tall as Yrsa came to a steady stop, sidestepping slightly before reaching forward to sniff Tove’s muzzle.

The horses greeted each other, and Loki grinned at you as he swept the hair back from his face.

“I win,” he smugly announced.

“I gathered,” you replied, not even bothering to pretend to be annoyed. You were having too much fun.

“You owe me an embarrassing story.”

“Right,” you rolled your eyes. “Give me a minute to catch my breath, will you?”

“Oh alright."

Standing up, he swung his leg around and dismounted so gracefully that you were already cringing at the thought of trying to get off your own horse. This was probably going to go as well as last time.

As if he’d had the same thought, Loki came to stand beside you and asked,

“Are your legs working this time, do you think?”

You chuckled nervously.

“Probably not.”

Loki nodded like he’d suspected as much.

“Well then, good thing you have me.”

“Yeah…” As you tried to figure out the least embarrassing way you could get off of this horse, you weren’t so sure that was true. If you were going to be falling on your ass, you’d much rather do so when no one else was around.

“Ok,” you began, trying to get your bearings. “Here goes…”

You stood up in the saddle, swinging your right leg behind you and then holding on for dear life as you wrestled your left leg out of the stirrup. Dangling now, you felt Loki’s hands close around your waist a moment before you let go of the saddle.

He helped lessen the blow of your feet hitting the ground. Unfortunately, you hadn’t anticipated that ground to be so uneven. As soon as you made contact, it was like someone had taken you out at the kneecaps. You completely lost your balance, falling back into Loki.

“Goddammit,” you grumbled, not even bothering to right yourself as Loki wrapped his arms around your waist. “I was trying to avoid this happening again.”

“What, you winding up in my arms?” Loki purred, leaning over your shoulder. You could practically feel the shit-eating grin on his face.

“Exactly,” you replied, struggling out of his hold.

Despite your less than graceful dismount, your legs didn’t feel quite as wobbly as before, and you were able to stand on your own without face planting.

“Urg, my ass,” you grumbled, reaching back to rub your upper thigh, where you were fairly certain a bruise was forming.

“Well, it is an excellent ass…”

“Shut up,” you managed, leaning sideways to shove him in the chest. Annoyingly, he barely moved an inch, and you had to stop yourself from tackling him, figuring that the outcome probably wouldn’t be in your favor.

“What? I’m only speaking the truth,” Loki argued, and you rolled your eyes, trying not to combust on the spot. You absolutely would not give him the satisfaction.

“You’re such a dork.”

“Mm,” he hummed, tilting his head. “I don’t think anyone’s ever called me that before.”

“Well it’s true." Then, glancing around at the horses, you propped a hand on your hip. “So, what do we do now?”

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Loki began to instruct you on how to untack a horse, which was a combination of variables that you never thought you would encounter.

You got the idea that the god was sparing you a lot of details, only going through the very basics, but you still felt a little lost. There were so many names for all the intricate pieces of the saddle and straps that soon your head was spinning.

“So then you just tuck the girth up here,” Loki hooked it around a metal loop at the base of the saddle so it was out of the way. “And now you’re ready to take it off.”

You glanced up at the large saddle, which was quite literally above your head, considering the height of the horse. Yrsa, who hadn’t moved an inch during this whole ordeal, looked down at you with much patience, but admittedly, not a lot of confidence. Great, even your horse knew you had no clue what you were doing.

Stretching on your tip-toes, you reached as high as you could and began to tug on the saddle, trying to lift the heavy equipment.

“Lift it up, don’t pull sideways -- we don’t want to hurt her back.”

“I’m trying,” you grunted, arms beginning to shake. “I… can’t,” you gave up with a huff, falling back a step. “She’s just too tall. No offense,” you patted Yrsa’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’m fairly certain she’s not offended,” Loki dryly commented. “No matter. This saddle is probably as heavy as you, anyway.”

You were about to ask him why the hell he’d had you try and take it off, then, when suddenly he reached forward and picked it up like it was made of cardboard.

“You dick,” you muttered, then laughed as he gave you an offended look.

“All this name-calling -- you’re lucky I like you, Mouse.”

Even though he was joking, you knew he was right. You were lucky he liked you.

“I’m just teasing,” you smirked, wanting to clarify even though it probably wasn’t needed. “And I like you, too, so…”

“Yes… which is almost as peculiar as me liking you.” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowing with befuddlement.

“Well then… we’re just perfect for each other, I guess. Like Jane and Rochester -- two disagreeable people who become slightly more agreeable around each other.”

The wrinkle between Loki’s eyebrows deepened.

“I hope I’m not nearly as unkind to you as Rochester was to Jane,” he replied as he carefully removed Yrsa’s bridle.

“Loki,” you gently insisted. “How many times do we have to go over this: Rochester loved Jane, he just had some shit to work through. And he wasn’t that horrible.”

“No, you’re wrong. He was very horrible. A total dick.”

You had to take a moment to recover from that sentence just coming out of Loki’s mouth.

“Okay,” you eventually persisted. “Well, I don’t think you’re a dick.”

“You just called me a dick moments ago,” Loki pointed like it would draw your attention to the past.

“I know. I guess I was just being a dick.”

“This is exhausting.”

“You’re right,” you laughed, scrunching your nose. “This is kind of absurd.”

“I like when you do that,” Loki suddenly murmured, and it took you a moment to register that he’d even said anything at all. By the time you had, he’d turned his back to you and was busy untacking Tove.

“What?” You asked. Loki didn’t move. “You like when I do what, Loki?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing.”

You take it back: he really was a dick. Even so, you couldn't help but like him.

You watched his back as he untacked his horse, propping the saddle up next to yours. The second he took the mare’s bridle off, both animals began to make their way across the meadow, heads low as they grazed on the lush grass.

“What if they run off?” You asked, worried about losing them.

“They won’t go far,” he assured you.

Content with believing him, you followed Loki over to the tree. A blanket appeared next to the trunk, and he held out a hand to help you sit -- he may be a dick, but he was still a gentleman -- before following, leaning back against the trunk with a sigh.

The air was starting to warm up, and the sun was creeping its way along the sky. A breeze cooled your skin, but the sunlight kept you from feeling cold. Birds chirped brightly, their songs filling the air, and the grass swayed peacefully.

It was the closest thing to a perfect day that you could imagine, and you smiled as you turned your face up to the sun, eyes closing blissfully.

“Mm, it’s so beautiful,” you hummed, your smile deepening.

“Yes,” Loki softly agreed.

Glancing over at him, grinning vaguely at how peculiar he was being, you rummaged through your bag, intending to find your book. Instead, you found the apple that you’d thrown inside yesterday morning.

“I completely forgot about this,” you muttered, pulling it out and making a mental note to split it with the horses later.

“Mm. You know what else you forgot about?” Loki arched an eyebrow. “I believe an embarrassing story is due.”

“Really?” You groaned, rolling your eyes.

“Uh-huh,” Loki insisted, laughing softly at your dramatic reaction.

“Uhh, okay, let me think…” Playing with your lower lip, you tried to think back to anything particularly embarrassing that stood out from your childhood.

It shouldn't have taken very long, but being put on the spot was making your mind go blank.

“Alright… So this one time when I was really little -- like seven or eight, maybe -- my mom and I were at the store. She was doing her shopping and stuff, and told me to wait by the cereal so she could go find something on her list.”

You were surprised to find Loki watching you very attentively, nodding every so often as you spoke. It was kind of adorable.

“Anyway, so I waited for what felt like an eternity to my little kid brain, and I was getting pretty antsy when all of the sudden, across the aisle, I thought I saw my mom, right? So I run up to her and wrap my arms around her legs, but then the lady looks down and I realize that I’ve just grabbed the legs of a complete stranger.

And then suddenly there’s my mom yanking me off this woman and being all like ‘what the hell are you doing, I told you to stay put!’ Honestly, she probably made more of a scene than I did. I dunno,” you shrugged. “Don’t really remember much after that, but I guess it was embarrassing since I remember it at all.”

“You were just a child. Your mother shouldn’t have left you.”

“Yeah, well… she was pretty good at that,” you muttered, laughing joylessly. “But I shouldn’t shit on her. She tried her best, I guess.”

It must have been obvious that you weren’t very convinced because Loki’s face contorted in a rare moment of unconcealed concern.

“My father,” he hesitantly began, turning to stare out across the meadow where the horses were grazing so he didn’t have to meet your eye.

“He was… physically present. At least, I always knew where to find him. But yet, I felt like I couldn’t. I would walk into a room and there he’d sit, but he always felt so far away and… lost to me. Mmm.” he shook his head, raising his eyebrows like he’d just come to.

You tried to imagine young Loki searching for Odin’s love. His affection. His approval. You remembered your own childhood, moments spent wondering when your mother would come home, worried that she wouldn’t. Wondering if you’d done something to push her away.

“Parents, huh?” You whispered, picking at a frayed thread on your jeans. You’d probably have a hole, soon.

Loki nodded once, his mouth forming a thin line.

“Parents."

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be a bummer,” you shyly admitted.

“You’re not a bummer,” Loki insisted, and it was the first time he’d looked you in the eyes since the both of you had sat down.

“T… Thanks,” you whispered, getting lost in those deep green eyes. There was such complexity to them, such depth, you felt them stealing your breath away. You were certain that you could stare into them for the rest of eternity and you wouldn't even have a chance at seeing all they had to offer.

“You’re welcome,” Loki breathed, eyebrows drawing together ever so slightly as his eyes searched yours. Then he shook his head.

“Strange,” he whispered, almost an afterthought.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head again, then cleared his throat. “Uhm… so, what would you like to do today?”

You found the question oddly sweet. There really wasn’t a reason for you and Loki to spend time together, but the god seemed to have decided that you would be, as if it were the only natural thing. It felt like a great honor -- like when a feral cat decides to sit on your lap; something that doesn’t happen often and to very few people.

“I don’t know. Any suggestions?”

“Mmm,” Loki hummed, playing with his fingers as he thought. “Well, I suppose that depends. Do you want more touristy things, or something a little bit… niche?”

You wrinkled your nose.

“Not sure I’m in the mood for touristy,” you admitted, and Loki didn’t seem surprised.

“There’s a lovely bit of forest not far from here. It’s one of the oldest in the area if you’re up for the walk.”

“Yeah, sure,” you grinned, hopping up excitedly. “I love a good forest.”

Loki looked up, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Oh, shit -- that wasn’t sarcasm, I swear.”

“No, I know,” he replied, shifting so he could stand, but not before you reached down and offered him a hand.

You weren’t sure why you did it -- it seemed kind of absurd now that you were -- but it just felt… right.

Giving you a look that was half insulted, half bemused, Loki accepted your hand. His skin felt cold against your own, and if that wasn’t reminder enough, when you tried to haul him to his feet you were once again made aware of his frost giant origin.

It was like trying to lift a boulder.

“Dang,” you muttered, stumbling back a little as he stood on his own. The hand still firmly gripping yours was the only thing that kept you from falling on your ass.

Loki chuckled, a low rumble in his throat, and then pulled you up and propped a solid hand on your arm as if was trying to stick your feet to the ground.

“We really do need to work on your mobility, love,” he smirked, and you tried to stop your brain from frying at what he'd just called you.

“Well… I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to give me some pointers during our walk."

“Hm,” Loki spun you around and let his hand fall onto your back. “Let’s start with one foot in front of the other, shall we? See how things go from there."

“Ha ha,” you humorlessly laughed, while also making a very conscious effort not to trip. You’d never be able to live that down.

“Norns, you’re actually having to focus, aren’t you?” Loki suddenly spoke. The amused grin on his face should have made you feel defensive, but it didn’t. Maybe because his eyes were so soft, and his smile was so genuine.

“Shut up,” you muttered, smiling yourself. “I can usually walk just fine, but you make me nervous.”

“I make you nervous? Why?” His brow narrowed in that worried way again. You wished he'd stop looking at you like that.

“Um, well first of all,” you waved a hand, gesturing to… everything about him. He leaned his head back indignantly.

“And second, it’s your fault that I keep winding up in situations where my legs stop working, so.”

Loki hummed suggestively, and you immediately regretted the life choices that had led you to this moment.

“Well, you’ve hardly experienced the pleasures of my full treatment. I could show you sometime if you’d like,” he leaned into your shoulder, clasping his hands behind his back.

“Gross,” you snorted, shoving him in the side. He feigned an insulted gasp.

“How dare you -- do you know how many mortals would kill for a chance with me?”

“And here you are, offering it up so casually.”

“That’s only because I knew you’d say no,” he argued.

“Oh really? And what if I change my mind?”

Lord have mercy, what the hell did you think you were doing?

“Well… then…” you nearly fell over from the sole fact that Loki was now slightly flustered, not to mention at a loss for words. But of course, not for long.

“Then I would severely question your state of mind, and ask you if you were feeling alright?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that pickup line before, did you come up with it yourself?”

“Ha,” Loki sarcastically scoffed. “You’re funny. For a mortal…”

“And you’re just oh-so-charming. For a god…”

“I should hope so, darling,” he drawled, sliding his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

Then, in an almost fidgety manner, he pulled a hand back out, reaching sideways and picking a purple flower from the high grass that you were walking through. Twirling it between his thumb and pointer finger, he held it out to you, eyes trained in front of him.

You tilted your head, chest fluttering at the simple gesture. While you’d made a joke of it, he really was sickeningly charming when he wanted to be. It made you feel equally fond as it did cautious. You’d never known how to act around overly flirtatious people.

But while those you’d encountered back on Earth had usually made you uncomfortable, Loki’s flirting was different. It never made you feel pressured or like you were in any danger. It was just… something he did, and it didn't really have much of an effect on you.

His thing with flowers, though….

Maybe that had a bit of an effect. You just found it very sweet -- such a simple, old-fashioned gesture. It was nice.

So, grinning like a fool, you carefully took the flower from his hand. Twirling it gently, you admired the little purple and white petals, delicate and, if you looked close enough, almost sparkling in that way that flower petals could in the right light.

“Thank you,” you replied, voice soft with genuine gratitude. Loki looked up, staring at you for a minute before shaking his head, brushing away your thanks with a shy smile.

He had so many different smiles to him. They were almost as numerous as the flowers in the meadow, swaying lazily among the big blades of grass. There were showy smiles, ones that he seemed to use when he wanted something. And then there were his fake smiles, extra big and especially charming.

But he also had little smiles, ones that were soft and hesitant, almost awkward with how unfamiliar they were, like he was trying them out just to see what happened when he did. You wished everyone had the chance to see one of these smiles. You wished he found a reason to try them on more often.

It was sad, the way that you’d seen so much of Loki already, and you’d only just been kind to him. Not even more than you would have to any other stranger. But that simple act of politeness, the genuine desire to be nice to him, had been enough to get him smiling like he was right now, fingers trailing through the knee-high grass and face turned towards the sunlight.

How cold must his life have been for such simple things to coax him out of whatever tower he had hidden his heart away in? How cruel had people been that the extension of friendship was such a shock, such an unfamiliarity that it had him opening up like a flower in the sun within just a few days?

It made you wonder what kind of person he could be if people would actually let him.

“All this thinking you do,” Loki murmured, his voice so soft that you nearly missed it over the sound of the breeze. You couldn’t, however, miss the undeniable affection within it.

“Sorry, am I being loud again?” You whispered, staring down at the flower in your hand.

“No. I mean, yes, but please -- don’t apologize.”

Glancing up, you had just opened your mouth to reply when Loki beat you to it.

“I think we’re here. Look,” he pointed towards the forest to your left.

You’d been walking along the edge of it for some time now, and from what you could tell, it was densely packed, almost like a fence. But, looking where the god was pointing, you could see a circular entrance formed by the winding curve of branches. It looked like a doorway.

Loki led you towards it. Leaning inside, he observed a moment before stepping in and holding out a hand.

“My Lady,” he offered, and you exhaled a quick laugh at the formality. Still, you took his hand and followed him inside.

***

Taglist: ((let me know if you would like to be added!!)) @itsamedeemonee @mischief2sarawr @sabxism @princess-ofthe-pages @80strashbag @7minutes-tomidnight @lokischambermaid @gayassfuckinghomo

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x female reader #loki fluff #loki fanfic #ao3 link #loki and reader #loki and you #loki x y/n #loki #loki laufeyson

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afro0with0no0afro · 1 month

Text

Beyond the Horizon

Herobrine x Black!reader Warnings: No Explicit sexual context mentions of vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, dream sex, spanking, possessive sex, dubious consent

Chapter 4: What's a god to a Homeowner? Last chapter Next Chapter AO3

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Knock Knock

“Hosanna? Are you home?”

Knock Knock Knock

“It’s me, the cleric! I’m just coming to check on you since you last came to the village!”

Knock Knock Knock Knock Knock

Hosanna cracked open her eyes and looked around, her head felt full and fuzzy, her mouth and throat extremely dry. She tried to swallow what little spit was left in her mouth and looked around. She was still in bed and in her nightgown, when she lifted the covers off of her she saw Herobrine sleeping soundly on her stomach, lightly snoring as he loosely held her in his strong arms. She carefully and successfully slid from under him and gave him a pillow to hold instead, covering his head with her blanket and got up quietly. She hobbled to the door and cracked it open. “Hi cleric.” She rubbed her eyes, her voice hoarse and deep. The cleric let out a sigh of relief to see her, “Hosanna, I’m glad to see you up, are you doing okay? You haven’t gotten sick again have you?” He fretted as he reached his hand to feel her forehead and she swatted his hand away. “No cleric,” she cleared her throat, “I've just been…” she turned back to look at the sleeping giant in her bed and realized who she was talking to. “I’ve been resting, I twisted my ankle the other day and I haven’t been very mobile.” She lied, hoping the cleric wouldn’t want to come into her home. “I see, but I haven’t seen you in over a week and everyone has been terribly worried about you, Hosanna.” She cleared her throat and coughed, cocking her head sideways. “A week?"

She looked back to the lump on her bed and back to the cleric "H-has it been that long?". He tried to look over her shoulder, just barely noticing the large and dark hickies on her neck and feeling like he may have been intruding, “If now is not a good time Hosanna, I can return later with some salve for your ankle. Do you have a guest?” She refocused on the cleric, and shook her head, now hoping that their conversation wouldn’t wake Herobrine up. “Uhhh, no no nooooo, I just uhhh… yeah now’s not a good time, maybe tomorrow will be a better day.” She stepped back, pretending to limp as she shut the door. “I’m sorry Cleric!” He stood outside her door and said a small prayer to himself, his face heating up a bit “Be well Hosanna, please let me know if you need anything.” He turned and made the walk back to the village.

Hosanna walked normally back to her bed and lifted the blanket to take a closer look at Herobrine. He looked angry in his sleep, emphasized by the dark bags under his eyes. She realized that it would be strange if she were to walk to the village right now, especially since she just told the cleric she hurt herself and "implied" she was alone. Whenever Herobrine decided to wake up again, he would be pretty damn hungry, and he could probably clear a whole stewpot by himself. She sighed and changed into her daytime clothes, slipping on some socks and grabbing her shoes, unfortunately breathing in at the wrong time as she passed his dirty old boots. “What in Notch’s name? What died in there?” She waved a hand in front of her face and kicked his boots further away. Looking at him, she thought about the condition of his clothes and how filthy they were. “When you wake up, I’m washing your clothes. You have to wear my nightgown until everything is washed…” She talked at him, still sleeping soundly and unaffected by what she said. “Your ass included!”

She turned around and walked to her front door, making sure that she grabbed her sword and shield this time around and left for her garden. She harvested what carrots and potatoes were ready and carried them back in her shield, dropping them off inside near the soup pot the going to the river to fill it up and bring it back. She looked at Herobrine’s sleeping figure, trying to wake him up with her mind to help her lift the heavy pot on the hooks above the fire pit, but he remained in deep sleep in her bed. She sighed and set herself up to heft the pot up. Before she forgot, she walked back out and fed her sheep and cows quickly before she walked back inside. Hosanna made her way to her cold storage chest under her crafting table and pulled out a few large pieces of frozen steak, tossing them into the pot to thaw and starting the fire. Realizing that she still had her sword and shield on her, she hung them back on her wall near her door. '

Walking past Herobrine on her bed, she pulled the blanket back a bit and took another look at him sleeping. She carefully rubbed her knuckles with the grain of his beard, feeling how rough and wiry it was. She didn’t really take the time to see how big he was, he didn’t really fit on her bed, and he took up most of it. She also really hadn’t seen how muscular he was either, his biceps bulging as he hugged the pillow she had given him. If they had been asleep for the past week or so, she expected him to wake up sometime soon.

As she set herself to work on the stew, Herobrine slowly woke up, blinking hard and moving the blanket off his head as he took in his surroundings again. He watched her as she washed and peeled the vegetables, quietly humming to herself. “Hosanna, how long was I asleep for?” She stopped and turned to look at him, her head tilting as she just stared at him. “Excuse me? Are… you in my head?” He nodded. “Yes, I don’t feel like speaking out loud at the moment. How long have I been asleep, Hosanna?” She turned back to her potatoes and cut thick slices into the stewpot. “A week, apparently.” She got up and stretched her legs, “I didn’t know exactly when you’d be up, so I’m making stew. It won’t be ready for a few hours though.” Herobrine hummed out loud, his voice coming out deep and gravely. He sat up in bed and stretched his arms. “Hosanna, come here.” She walked over to the bed and looked at him. “Give me your hand.”

She made a face at him. “Why?” She offered her hand to him and he grabbed it and pulled her down to him. She let out a ‘hey’ as he held her to his chest and smelled her, she smelled like the spruce trees she built her house from. His hands made their way under her shirt and felt the smooth cold skin of her back. “What the hell, Herobrine! Let me go, you’re being weird!” He licked her neck with his broad tongue, enjoying the slight sting of salt from her sweat on his chapped lips. “Ah! Nopenopenope Let me go!!” She felt that strange dulling again and pushed herself off of him and fell on the floor. The dulling went away as she looked at him from her new position, she wiped away the saliva on her neck and rubbed it off on her pants. “Ewww, what the fuck Herobrine?! Don’t just lick me! What gives?” He just looked at her plainly, white eyes showing some amusement. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He began to smile, “How did you feel when I licked you?” She looked at him, “Weird, like I was getting a headache, why? What did you do to me?” He then pinched his arm roughly and immediately Hosanna rubbed the same spot on her arm, yelling at him as he laughed. “What the fuck Herobrine, what did you do to me?!”

“You feel everything I feel, pain and pleasure.” His smile was wicked and wide. “We are nearly one in the same now, I’ll know if you die or fuck another man, and you’ll know if I do the same. We don’t even need to be in the same space.” He laughed loudly from his spot on her bed. She just looked at him with a sense of despair, or defeat, she wasn’t really sure at the moment. She just looked at her arm and back at him, deciding something in her mind and looking Herobrine in the eyes. Waiting until they made eye contact, she took her nipple and pinched hard, just a bit more than she’s used to just to see his reaction. He flinched and rubbed his chest. “Hey! Cut that shit out!” Hosanna started to laugh.

“Oh buddy, it’s all over when my period comes around.” She stood up and looked back to her stewpot. Deciding that he was no longer that threatening, she sighed then looked back at him. “Okay, look here’s the deal,” she sat back down and started cutting up her potatoes and carrots again, “I don’t know what all you’ve done to me, but now you’re in my home, so two things need to happen.” She pointed her small knife at him, “you need to pick up some chores and you need to bathe.” Turning back to her stew she dropped some chopped carrots in. “I don’t know what you did to your boots, but they smell awful and so do you. I have some soap and a rag, the river’s not too far from here. Find it and wash your ass.” He made a face and scoffed. “Do you really think you can order around a god of death and destruction to take a bath-“

“Yes! Especially if this ‘gOd oF dEaTh AnD dEsTrUcTiOn’” she mocked him, “is gonna sleep in my bed and eat my food.”

He got up off her bed and stood over her. “You will not order me around Hosanna, understand your situation and know your place.” The dulling came back when he spoke to her, his eyes glowing dimly. She was roughly eye level with his crotch when she looked up at him, he meant to be intimidating but Hosanna was starting to get tired of his antics so she smacked him in the groin. He doubled over and stepped back, a small wave of cramps passed through her as she watched him sit back down on the bed. “You Bitch!!”

“And I’ll do it again! Now go bathe while I finish making food! You reek!!” She turned back to her veggies, ignoring the irritated look that Herobrine was giving her. He kept staring, eyes starting to glow dimly again but he stopped and rubbed his eyes hard. Hosanna’s eyes then stung like she had gotten soap in her eyes, she rubbed them with the backsides of her hands, stopping briefly to see him harshly rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands and snickered to herself. “Ha ha that’s what your smelly ass gets.” He stopped for a moment to shoot her a look, he got up and started undressing behind her. Starting with his slightly damp, grimy shirt, which he threw at the back of her head, then his equally dirty and trashed pants, which was also thrown at her. “Ugh!” She made a gagging sound and she quickly threw the offensively soiled clothes back at him and turned to look at him. “What in the fuck did yo— no!! NO!!!” She just looked at him in his tattered and holey boxers, barely held together by a couple of threads and hope, all the original color hidden by centuries of sweat, body oils, and dirt. She turned back around, “There is no way in-” She turned back to him in disbelief, “You really live like that? How have you not been chafing this whole time? I know your thighs are rubbed raw!” She did her best to ignore how large his bulge was in his sorry excuse for boxers and turned back to finish cutting the last of her veggies "Go! Fuck man! Now I can smell you from here!!"

Herobrine smirked and set a hand on his hip, once he pulled his “boxers” off his large frame he also threw them at the back of Hosanna’s head. Except this time she threw them in the fire. “What the fuck?! What is your problem, woman?!” Hosanna turned back and saw just was was hiding behind his now crispy boxers. She wasn’t going to lie to herself, it was pretty impressive and thick, but a follow up thought was the smell that it probably had. Which was more than enough to keep any sexual thoughts at bay. “Herobrine, so help me Notch, if you stop me one more time from making my fucking stew, I will fucking burn your book in your sleep.” He just stood there, silly attitude fading as he watched his underwear disappear into the fire. “I know your dick cheese is unreal so please, go take care of it. I’m not asking.” Hosanna turned around for the last time to finish her stew while Herobrine stood naked in her home. While he wanted to argue with her, she was right, a whiff of his lifted pit was enough to huff and sigh as he grabbed her soap and washcloth and walk out butt ass naked to the near by river.

Once the stew was ready to simmer, she stretched her legs and tossed the rest of his soiled clothes into the fire, “There’s no saving those.” Looking to the awful and horrid smelling boots near her bed, she contemplated tossing those too, but felt that just setting the poor sacks of leather outside would be better, so she pinched her nose and carried them outside. Stepping back into her home, she rummaged around through her clothes to see if she could find any nightgowns that might be big enough for the behemoth that decided to sleep in her bed, satisfied with the largest one she owned, she laid it on her bed and walked back outside to finish her chores before Herobrine came back from his bath.

After about an hour she was interrupted by the sound of him clearing his throat as he stood at the other end of her garden. “Hey, Hosanna. What the in the Nether is this?” She turned around and giggled at the nightgown he found, she didn’t even hear him walk into and out of her home, so she was a little surprised to see him with it.

“It’s your new outfit until I either buy or make you new clothes. It’s huge on me so it should fit you.” He proceeded to stretch the poor nightgown over his large chest, pathetically stopping just over his navel and fitting like a vacuum sealed shirt. "Huh..." Holding back a laugh she made herself busy with watering her crops and turning her back to him. "I guess that one doesn't fit."

Herobrine’s face scrunched up in irritation and frustration. “Fine.” He turned around and started walking towards the village “I’ll get my own damn clothes.” Hosanna whipped her head around and scrambled to stop him. “No no no no- hey hey hey!!!” She put a hand on his broad chest, staring directly at him and ignoring this meat that he was freely shlanging around. “Herobrine lets just- How about I make you some clothes! Theres no need to go to the village!!” She spoke quickly, hoping he would turn back to her cabin so she could figure something out. He looked down at her, his upper lip twitching in annoyance before he pushed her to the side and kept walking.

Hosanna stepped in front of him again, grabbing his arms and stopping once more. “Listen listen. Let’s just go back inside and make you something for right now.” She tried smiling cutely at him be the large man could only read it as nervousness. Herobrine smiled smugly, letting an amused breath through his nose and crossed his toned arms over his chest. “Oh? Now we’re being cordial? What changed woman?” He let himself be steered back to her little cabin, playing along for a bit. “Are we…scared?” Hosanna scoffed behind him, spluttering excuses while they made their way back inside. He ducked his head walking into her home and sat down on her bed. Hosanna was still rambling on and on about something about scaring the villagers with his threatening stature, his all white eyes, his scary voice… His chest puffed out in pride “Please woman, you’re flattering me.” She stopped and looked at him, her mouth opening closing as she tried to say something in response. “Don’t keep your mouth open too long, I might be temped to put my cock in it.”

“You-you listen here you big bitch!” She stood in front of him now, roughly face to face. They stared each other down for a minute or so. “Oh, don’t you worry, Hosanna. I’m listening.” Her name rolled off his tongue so smoothly. A flash of heat briefly rolled through her, then through him. Herobrine licked his teeth, “Oh? We liked that, huh?” His eyes glowed dimly as he reached out to bring the side of her neck to his mouth. He spoke in her ear and filled her mind with his voice “I’ll forgive you for your disrespect earlier. I’ll just take your body as consolation.” He licked a fat strip across her neck and bit down. Hosanna’s knees went weak and she rested her whole weight against him, breathing softly in his ear.

“Yes, Hosanna. give yourself to me.”

#herobrine is hot #herobrine x reader #black reader #black reader insert #also on ao3 #not in my christian minecraft server #no smut in this chapter #herobrine

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ghostypetrainer · 2 years

Note

I normally send things on anon, but after typing this all out I’ve grown attached and decided to turn anon off. I might do something with it but I still want your opinion on this.

After reading about baby Nabori a thought occurred. Hear me out for a moment:

This could take place before Husui, after Husui, or in a world where nobody gets yeeted to the past. For some reason both Iris and Elesa are challenging the multi battle line, maybe just to mess with the twins or something. In the control room some sort of alarm goes off signalling something has happened in the boss car of the multi line and the doors to the car have locked for some reason. Once the train has stopped, the workers finally get the car doors open - only to see something nobody was expecting.

There in the middle of the car are three toddlers and an infant. Who all look verrry familiar. Que one frantic phone call and we have one exasperated and confused Mayor/Gym Leader standing in the employee lounge of the subway watching three little hellions tussling in the middle of the room with an agent holding a babbling baby who seems to want in on the toddler squabble. After managing to calm the kiddos down they figure out a few things:

1) Nobody has any clue what happened and none of the little ones can remember that moment.

2) Regarding memory, it wasn’t a total wipe. They know who they are, who the people around them are, but the details are fuzzy. They know that they are supposed to be older too.

3) Somebody absolutely has to keep an eye on them or the will wander off. The agents have lost Ingo once, Elesa twice, and Emmet five times in the time it took Drayden to get to Nimbassa.

Drayden is absolutely not ready for this.

I'm laughing bc all I can picture is just like... the Depot Agents in charge of looking after baby Iris being so glad that she has limited mobility right now, because they're positive that they would have lost track of her more times than they have with Emmet... and also, once their boss gets back to his regular age they will be bringing this up with him. Because boss??? Safety checks??? Emmet will never live it down.

(I like to picture that Ingo didn't so much get 'lost' as he got really focused on something and stopped following the Depot Agents... but when they noticed he was missing and ran back, he was right where they left him, still engrossed in whatever it was that distracted him.)

Drayden's got one hell of a ride in for him! Plus he has to contact Elesa's parents, whom the Depot Agents don't have the number for and tell them that their daughter has mysteriously shrunk. At least he gets to inflict the bizarre phone call he got on someone else now, lmao.

Do all of their Pokemon get reverted back to first stage evos too? That would be cute. Durant, Lapras, Druddigon and Emolga just trying to hold them all together bc they're the only ones unaffected bc they're all single stage Pokemon.

#asks #submas #elesa #pokemon drayden #pokemon iris #chaos at gear station!#but what else is new #drayden is not ready for this

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monkmain · 5 months

Text

My boi is back

remember Water Full Of Silver Leaves? He’s mobile now.

his chip was a bit damaged, so he acts like an infant, but he still remembers magpie.

he has a tail because no significant harassment needed more dna to make him a body and decided to use rivulet because they both had gills

also he has slugcat skin instead of a metal covering like moon so he’s a little fuzzy

I love drawing him so much he’s so derpy

edit: he looks a little different because I drew him where I couldn’t check my old drawing

#rain world #spoilers #double affirmative au #scug oc #looks to the moon #Water full of silver leaves #white lizard #magpie #Rivulet

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thatblastedpen · 1 year

Text

My ER journey. A parched tale.

I recently was in the ER FOR TWELVE HOURS, nobody gave me water.

Now, I'm not pointing fingers at nurses or anyone there. This isn't going to be a knock on the people, because it was freaking insane in there. They were understaffed and probably pulling their hair out. But it became this hilarious thing in hindsight but also psychological torture session. Follow me on this journey.

Friday morning, I woke up and stretched like you normally would and my hip fucking exploded.

My leg goes numb, I long for a merciful death and we call the ambulance. The pain is immense.

So I get to the ER at about 11 am. Apparently everyone in my city also decided to f*** their sh** right up at the same time I did. It was chaos and I was wheeled to a hallway. I want to point out that because of the nature of the injury, I couldn't move from my position. I was stuck on my back, flat, and couldn't even turn over. Nerves are dumb.

So there I lay for....oh, hours. I had one nurse come by and half-heartedly try to put in an IV. She does not succeed. She leaves and promises someone else will try. Remember that.

Hours go by. I mean hours. I lay there until nearly 4 pm and I just...I have to pee. Which is amazing because I had no food or water at all but my kidneys were working juuust fine. After trying to flag down several people, I finally get one by saying "I have to pee!" That'll stop someone in their tracks.

Someone kindly wheels me to a private room and I..I won't go into details here. Arrangements are made. I get to pee. Somehow. Trust me. There is always a will and a way.

Either that was the catalyst to get me help or I finally was moved up in the list to be attended to. Another nurse comes in to put an IV in. I ask for water. She pokes my right arm at the wrist three PAINFUL times, then blows out the vein on my right arm. I am left with no water and no IV. Such is life.

Another hours lapses and the doc comes into check on me. She notes that I can move my legs and have some feeling. Good news, I didn't paralyze myself! So she orders meds which I take with water. Now here is where the sadism starts. THEY TAKE THE CUP AWAY FROM ME and leave. I had one delicious sip of water and then was left to my lonesome. I am thirsty.

After another hour, the doc returns and asks if I can try to sit up. The meds have started to take the edge off but I'm still hurting. I so "sure, let's go." because who wants to be in an ER? She moves the bed to sit me up, immediately my hip explodes in pain and I beg her to stop. Mercifully she does. She says she'll order me more meds and leaves me.

A new nurse arrives and I will call her the 'sassy' nurse. She gets the IV in in one go after making a pointed comment that is wasn't that hard and that I should have had one hours ago. Ha. She then gives me morphine. Holee sheet. I started taking selfie pics with my pee receptacle. I peed a lot.

Guess what morphine doesn't cure? THE UNENDING THIRST. I ask for water again, I get a half-hearted "we'll check with the doc" and I never see water again for hours.

After fuzzy time, because it's morphine, I'm moved to the hallway before moved to another, better room to recover in. Another nurse checks on me and gives me another round of meds (likely muscle relaxers and steroids?) with a tiny cup of water. Omg water. Precious water. Then, THIS SADIST PUTS THE CUP ON THE TABLE ACROSS THE ROOM FROM ME.

I'm left alone to let the meds work and swim in the numb euphoria of morphine. Except I'm in pain, I'm thirsty, and peeing is super weird and vaguely embarrassing. Doc comes back, I chat about that pop I heard and my worries. She gives me the deets, assures me that I will be in pain but on my feet and mobile. We just got to get me there. Oh, I'm determined. My same nurse arrives to help me sit up, which I'm gung-ho to try for. I ask for water or a gaterade or a ginger ale. I'm given neither.

Is it a conspiracy at this point??

Finally, after ANOTHER DOSE of morphine, I am sitting up (even if my head keeps falling back. Look...morphine is hard to move in.) But I'm determined. I'm going to get out of bed and get that tiny cup of water nearby. While snail crawling out of bed, another nurse arrives and asks if I'm ready to get up. You betcha! We do, and I remember that I'm in just a t-shirt and undies. It was morning when this happened, after all. She suggests a robe. I say "yeah, probably a good idea." But really I don't give a crap. I want that water.

While she grabs the robe, I lunge to the table and down the remains of the water (probably a sip worth) like it's life giving mana. She returns and we walk about the halls and I find a bathroom and go potty like a big girl!

So here is where two hilarious things occur to me: one-morphine doesn't really stop the pain. It just makes you so numb you don't really feel it. Like a blanket on the brain. And two-I'm RIGHT ACROSS FROM A DRINK STATION WITH ALL THE GINGERALE, SODA, AND WATER I COULD EVER ASK FOR. IT WAS RIGHT THERE TEN FEET FROM ME. ARE YOU KIDDING?

Anyway, after that, I call my dad to come pick me up and to bring a change of clothes. God bless this man, he arrives and calls to say "I'm out front waiting on you." "Dad...I'm in my underware." "OH RIGHT."

And that's basically it. I shuffle out on my own, not wheeled out, and it was a long walk and I was very high on all the drugs. I think the moral of the story here is: Don't go to this particular hospital unless you are actively dying. And if you do: bring your own water.

Side note: I sobbed over McDonald’s closing before I could get there to eat. I blame the morphine.

#trauma #ER #health

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isbus · 11 months

Text

The House of Villains

Chapter 3: Teach Me How To Love

First serious-ish chapter!

At night, when Santana was alone, he would read teen magazines. He didn't find the human male's magazines interesting so he read the female ones. He didn't understand it very much but he continued reading to find out how regular humans felt.

Dio gave him the idea; he remembered the time clearly.

"Here. Read these. You have to act normal so maybe reading these would make you act like a regular teen."

"Why? Because you look like a teen and we need to act normal for others!"

So he read all the boy ones, because his sex was male. But, like I said earlier, he didn't care for them. They were about sports, and stupid stuff. He wanted to get a girlfriend so he thought that maybe reading about women would help.

He only read them at night so that no one would know. He threw them away on the day he got them so that Dio thought he wouldn't read them. But, later on, he took them out and read away.

So tonight, he continued to read. He got to a page. "How to impress a Boy" He already had an idea of how, so he skipped the page. The next one was makeup tips, then clothing ideas, everything a girl should have, blah blah blah..

He decided to go back and read that dumb page. Why not how to impress girls? Oh well. I guess they don't know that boys can read this. He read it word for word, line after line.

Maybe I could make a friend like this...

- Time skip brought you by: Little Santana just wants to make a friend -

Morning. That's when humans wake up. So when morning came and sun shown up, he got dressed in regular attire and grabbed his parasol.

"Where are you going?" Kars asked before Santana set foot out the door. "Especially without sunscreen."

Santana groaned but kept his mouth shut when thinking about that time when he told Kars his thoughts. He told him once that no sunscreen can prevent him from burning. Kars immediately grounded him for it. No television for a week.

Kars put some sunscreen on his nose, then walked away. He gave a signal before going towards the attic; a signal that told Santana that he can go now.

Once he exited the home and shut the door behind him, he rubbed the sunscreen off. If some cool guy saw him with sunscreen (ONLY ON HIS NOSE) they would probably think he's a coward or a stupid vampire, but there are more chances of being called a coward.

Once he got off the porch and past the driveway, he decided he would look around the neighborhood. He knew that the Joestar residence is filled with boring protagonist-like people, so he decided to adventure to the other side of the block.

1508 had a family having a picnic, wearing their swim attire. How weird. The only normal ones were a girl with pink hair, and a boy in a sailor style- only because they wore regular clothes in this irregular neighborhood.

1507 had a handicapped man in a wheelchair and (presumably) his friend who sat in a rocking chair next to him. A man in a jockey outfit was flirting up a storm with a girl who had pink hair. That's probably a no go too.

1506 came with the boy with the baseball player outfit, a man with a fuzzy hat and horns, a man with long pink hair daydreaming, a lady with medium hair looking at her phone, and a girl sipping on a super big gulp filled with water. They look cool but, let's look some more.

1505 had a man with lilac hair and a man with a black bob sitting and talking, a man with a hat and a boy with messy hair running around, shouting and shooting each other with squirt guns, and lastly, a boy reading with a girl looking in a mirror (maybe she's adjusting her makeup).

1504 came with a LOT of people. They had an outdoor table and a chef who was barbequing. One with a mostly shaved pomp and a man with a blonde braid talked, two small boys talked to- wait- THE FAMOUS MANGA ARTIST?! Also a few other's but hey, they don't matter.

1503 had three men and a dog. There was one with cherries playing mobile games, one with a tall flat top talked with an Egyptian man who held the dog on his lap. They seem cool.

1502 had a man with a blonde flat top talking to a younger blonde man and a woman with shades and a cigarette. They look cool too!

And last but not least. There was 1501 which had two men sitting by an outdoor table, sipping on wine, eating salted sandwiches, and trying on each other's hats while a little kid ran around. A woman with blonde hair watched with a smile.

Time to think about which one to see!

7 and 8 have weirdos, so no. 1 has a cool family thing going so they probably wouldn't care. 3 and 5 seem too cool for me. 4 feels like a family reunion so going there would be bad. So 2 and 6.

He began stepping over to 1506. "Hey, uh, you guys look cool... Can I hang out with you guys and maybe become your friend?" It sure was hard talking to others.

The one with the big gulp and the base-boy smiled. But the daydreamer kept doing his thing as the other stayed on her phone. The hat man raised an eyebrow. "Maybe. But you would have to talk to Jolyne."

"Oh, OK. See you guys later then." At least speaking like a human was easy...

Who even is Jolyne? He thought. Probably someone from the Joestar Residence...

He walked towards 1502. Being sure to stay on the sidewalk, avoid the squirt guns, try not to stare at the manga artist, etc.

1502. He could hear the taller blonde man talking and shouting, sometimes in German, which gained Santana's attention. "You! Ja you!" Santana looked at him. "Are you new here?"

"Yeah, kind of."

"Well I haven't seen you out of the house since you first moved." He chuckled at the joke that Santana didn't understand. What did the teen pillar man do? Laugh as well. "When someone laughs and makes a joke, laugh with them, it makes them feel better for the joke." He read that in a magazine.

"Haha, yeah. I've found video games and now I'm obsessed..." They both laughed about that one.

The man got out of the laughing fit. "I understand that feeling." He said in his thick German accent and chuckled again. "I'm Rudol Von Stroheim. What's your name?"

"I am Santana. It's nice meeting you."

Rudol thought for a second. "Can I give you a nickname?"

"What's a nickname?"

Rudol laughed even though Santana was serious. "It's a fake name you would give another."

"I guess you can then."

"I shall call you Sanviento!"

"Can I give you nickname, Rudol?" Stroheim nodded. "I will call you, Stroheim."

He sighed. "Sure, why not?"

"Are we friends now?"

- Time skip, brought to you by: Santana made a friend! -

As the days passed, their friendship increased. Santana began ditching the magazines (for real this time), and started going outside more often. He spent more and more time with Stroheim and started feeling weird- but only when Stroheim was around.

What was this feeling? Was it the same feeling between Wamuu and Kars? No... It couldn't be...

Was he.. IN LOVE?!

Santana decided to confront this feeling... by talking with his family. He started from the latest members of the family. He went to the living room to see the couple watching a documentary on TV. Surprisingly enough, they were the only two down there.

"Valentines. I made a friend and I feel weird when talking to him." He stated.

Scarlet put her hand over her mouth in shock. "This can only be one thing!" They both exclaimed.

"Hatred!"

"Love!"

They both shouted. Scarlet looked at Funny. "Yes. It has to be love!" Funny looked away, embarrassed. "Just tell him or her how you feel."

Santana thanked them, and went to Pucci's room. He repeated the statement. Pucci, told him it was love. He went to see Doppio and Diavolo, repeating the statement, getting the same answer. Kira told him he didn't know. Dio was being weird so he gone to the attic.

Santana took a deep breath, exhaled, the entered.

"Lord Kars, Esidisi.. I made a friend, and I think I'm in love with him."

Esidisi looked shocked. "It's a boy? Santana, that's adorable!"

Kars glared at Esidisi, signaling at him to shut up. "That's great, I'm just surprised you found another vampire in this neighborhood."

"That's the thing, he's... not.”

Kars' eyes widened. "You.. are trying to love a squirrel?! I'm surprised you caught one but-"

"He's not a squirrel either. He's human."

Esidisi began bawling his eyes out. "He's in love with a hamon user! What have we done wrong?!"

Kars, once again, glared at him. "Who is this human you are interested in?"

"He's in the house 1502. His name is Rudol Von Stroheim." Santana explained.

Esidisi leaned towards Kars. "Sounds like a hamon user..." Esidisi said a little too loud.

"He's not a hamon user! He's just extremely attractive, and humorous, and smart-"

"And he's human! What will happen if he finds out you're a vampire?!" Kars cuts in the sentence with an angry tone. "Will he try to kill you? Or will he accept you? If you want to see if he loves you too, tell him who you really are and see what his response is!"

Esidisi tries to rejoin the conversation. "Kars, calm down, please."

Kars takes a breath. "Until you decide to confess, you're staying in your part of the attic to think it over." Kars and Esidisi exit the room, going down the stairs.

- Time Skip Brought To You By: Santana got a love interest but at what cost? -

Santana sobbed into a pillow that night. He wanted so bad to just go out and prove Kars wrong, but he was scared. What if he was right? What if Stroheim would try to kill him? He decided to look in a magazine. He wanted to tear it up since it was full of useless information, but then he saw a page that would change his thoughts.

"Don't be afraid. If you don't do it, you might lose the chance."

That was it. Exactly what he needed.

- Time Skip Brought To You By: Confidence Upped! -

The next day came a little sooner then he could handle. He wanted to practice what to say, he also wanted to slap Kars in the face while he was sleeping, but he wasn't allowed to do either. So when the day hit like the smack he wanted to give Kars, he was terrified. "Are you going to confess?" Kars squinted at Santana when he woke up. Santana nodded and gained the balls that he didn't know he could gain when Kars was around.

When Kars opened the door to the Attic, Santana hissed. "That's my boy." Esidisi and Kars said in unison.

Santana gone down stairs, and picked up his parasol. "Ooh! Look who's going to see his lover boy!" Dio mocked him. Santana was already confident, so instead of passing by like Dio said nothing, he glared at him and flipped him the bird before exiting the house.

Going to 1502, seeing Stroheim waiting for him. When he saw the redhead, he got excited, then angry, then a mix of both. "Where were you? You weren't out yesterday!" He shouted with that thick German accent- that damn accent that sent butterflies down Santana's throat and into the stomach of the young pillar man.

"I have thought about things- serious things." Rudol raised an eyebrow. "I have two things to tell you."

*GULP*

He didn't know which to say first. They were both hard to say.

*SIGH*

"I love you... I think." Stroheim was first in awe, then he laughed when hearing the last part.

"You think?"

"I have never loved humans, which brings me to my next point." He sighs again. "I am not human."

...

"Are you an alien? Werewolf? Zombie?" Santana shook his head at all of them.

Santana felt a little weight taken off when seeing that Stroheim hasn't ran away. "I am a pillar man, a vampire."

Stroheim blushed. "I have two things to confess to you." Santana hummed. "I love you too, and... I have a thing for vampires." Surprisingly enough, Santana knew what he meant; blushing when realizing those two factors.

Santana and Stroheim had the same idea. So they mooched like there was no tomorrow right there. Santana nearly dropped his parasol in the process. After a minute passed of their make out session, they felt like someone was watching. Santana looked behind him and saw Wamuu while Rudol looked behind him and saw Caesar.

...

"What the fuck, Stroheim?!" Caesar said in his Italian accent. "How did he get a boyfriend?!" He looked at Wamuu.

"I know, right?" Wamuu threw his hands up. "How did Santana get a boyfriend before me?"

The two s' shrugged and mooched again, lightly this time.

"Can you teach me how to love, Stroheim?"

He nodded. "If you can show me how you feed off humans..." He winks.

Caesar and Wamuu nearly vomited right there.

- END SCENE -

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localplaguenurse · 1 year

Note

oh my god chex mix i need to share this with you because i feel so fucking stupid it's funny. i've had this issue with paypal over a year. actually it might even be 2 years! i needed to submit either my ID card or any document to verify my identity. but i had this fucking issue- whenever i'd drag and drop the document it would upload but wouldn't let me actually submit it. like the 'next' button would remain unclickable. i'd been stuck at this for ages.

well just now i was like "imma try it again" and guess what. it is only then that my wonderful eyes decided to bless me with actual eyesight and i noticed the fucking birth date column. A YEAR. MAYBE TWO. I COULDN'T COMMISSION ARTISTS. BECAUSE I COMPLETELY MISSED THAT IT WANTED MY BIRTH DATE.

Fuckin rippppppppp

This is not at all the same but it's related to birthdates. So I signed up for wattpad when I was 12 sort of by accident. I was on mobile on my little iPod touch and when I was putting my age in I put 2002. Because you gotta be 13 to use wattpad, the scroll wheel thingy went to 2001 automatically, basically to say "you gotta be this year to sign up."

My memory is a little fuzzy but I know I had closed the app instead of confirm or cancel because my mom was probably calling me for dinner or something. I go on wattpad later that night, or it might've been the next day, and instead of the log in button it was the username I picked at 12 years old.

I will be worm food before I say what my old account was because I never actually deleted it.

#ask #plague lore

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ask-sunshine-the-hedgehog · 1 month

Text

Sunshine stands frozen in surprise for a moment, blinking in confusion as he takes in his suddenly new surroundings. What had just happened? A moment ago he had been making his way up one of the enormous towers that had sprouted forth from the ground and now he was suddenly standing in a seemingly endless red void, feeling like he was being pulled along toward an unknown goal. He decided to follow the strange force wherever it was trying to guide him since it might be his only lead to figure out what was going on and how to get out of this place.

He didn't know how long he had been walking or how far he had gone when he finally spotted Tails, Knuckles, and Amy together ahead of him. The hedgehog sprinted to them, only to stop dead in his tracks when he discovered what his friends were gathered around.

It was Starlight.

The normally bright and energetic hedgehog stood ridged and still, static and unblinking like a statue staring into space.

"Sonic...? What happened to him? Where are we?"

Sunshine questions as he joins up with the rest of the group, hoping that at least one of them would be able to give him some answers about their current situation and about what was wrong with his husband.

"He must have taken on so much cyber energy that it corrupted him. He's stuck between realities because he took on our corruption to save us..." Tails replies sadly as Sunshine looks down at his own body, realizing that he had regained his corporeal form along with all of their friends.

"Sonic no!" Amy gasps, hands covering her mouth and tears filling her eyes "We have to fix this!" The pink hedgehog cries out while Sunshine places a hand on his husband's cheek, feeling a fuzzy static sensation coming off of him like an old TV screen.

"You have to return to cyberspace, quickly!" Sage's voice finally catches the hedgehog's attention as she speaks to her creator, small hands placed on the side of the scientist's hovercraft.

"What? Why? I just got out!" The human replies to his AI daughter. How long had the two of them been there?

"Because you'll be destroyed if you're still here when it gets out!" She says fearfully, concerned for her father's safety.

"When what gets ou-?" Eggman begins to ask, only to be interrupted by a rumbling roar that seemed to fill the sky, followed by an equally powerful voice:

"Since time immemorial I have languished here. The locks are broken. Now I shall tear down the walls between dimensions and consume all!"

"Oh no you don't! This is my world to conquer! I'll mobilize the Eggfleet and blow you right out of the sky!" Eggman shouts at the unseen entity, shaking his fist at the sky.

"It won't be enough! It defeated the Ancients and their advanced technology, your weaponry wouldn't stand a chance against that kind of power! My simulations show a success rate of zero percent! Please let me fulfill my function, let me protect you!" Sage warns him, begging the doctor to flee to safety.

"Starlight worked too hard for us to give up now! There has to be a way to push back the corruption and bring him back to us! Restoring our physical forms is what did this to him, maybe us going back into cyberspace will reverse the affects of the corruption?" Sunshine theorizes, his hand now resting on the blue hedgehog's shoulder.

"That might work, even if only enough to restore his consciousness. We have to try something, sitting here doing nothing and awaiting our demise won't solve anything" Tails says, holding his hands out for his friends to take. Sunshine nods and takes one of the fox's hands in his own while Knuckles takes his other hand and Amy closes the circle by taking the echidna's and the fox's outstretched hands.

"Anything for Sonic!" "We're even after all this!" Amy and Knuckles state in unison as all four of them shut their eyes and focus on fighting back Starlight's corruption. Their bodies begin to flicker and fade out again as the corruption starts to vanish from the blue hedgehog's body, restoring his mental and physical state, although some of the corruption still remained. All of them except for Sunshine. While Amy, Tails, and Knuckles were now returned to their cyber hologram stat while Sunshine's body remained in his normal form. "Sonic, are you okay? Did it work?" He questions, pulling his husband into a tight embrace.

"I'm fine now thanks to all of you guys. Thank you" The blue hedgehog grins at his partner and their friends.

"This is our chance! I never simulated a scenario where Sonic and his friends helped since you never authorized me to even consider the possibility!" Sage pipes up excitedly as she addresses her creator.

"I still don't want to..." Eggman grumbles angrily, arms crossed as he looks past his creation to glare at the group of Mobians. "Please, father! This might be our only chance to succeed!" The AI girl pleads desperately.

"Fine...ahem, I hereby temporarily induct the lot of you into the Eggman Empire and order you to save us all! This is not an alliance, understand?" The man huffs.

"Sure, if you say so" Sunshine rolls his eyes while Starlight grins smugly at his longtime enemy "Whatever you say, Dr.Ego-man" The blue hedgehog laughs.

"Sage, you stay with me to help me bypass the Ancient's security systems and access their database so we can try and figure out just what exactly this creature is and possibly how to defeat or contain it" Eggman orders his creation.

"As you command, father!" Sage nods "But first I must speak to Sonic and his friends, there is something important that must be addressed before we proceed with the plan" She says, turning to the Mobians "Of my millions of calculations, there was one so remote and unlikely I did not consider it as a viable option. However, as things stand, it could be the scenario to save us all"

"Well we've beaten the odds more times than we can count! What's the plan?" Starlight asks, still as optimistic and cheerful as ever despite his lingering cyber corruption.

"I can stabilize your corruption for a brief time by transferring a portion of it to your partner and guide you both on how to convert that corruption into power that you will use to end this conflict and save father" Sage explains.

"And save the world too, right?" Sunshine questions, amused and somewhat endeared by the AI's dedication to her father.

"It is his world to conquer, so yes" Sage replies matter of factly, causing the two hedgehogs to sigh and shake their heads.

"Wait a minute, hold on. Isn't there another way to do this that doesn't involve Sunshine being corrupted too? I don't want to put him through that, especially after what it did to me" Starlight interrupts, concerned for his husband's well-being.

"I'll be fine, love. You took on the full brunt of it for us, the least I can do is take on some of that burden and fight at your side. Please let me do this with you" Sunshine assures the other hedgehog "I want to be there for you. You don't have to do this alone, we're a team"

"You're right, let's do this together" Starlight grins at his spouse, taking his hand and squeezing it firmly. "Ready when you are!" Sunshine smiles back at him.

Sage floats down to hover in front of the couple, a ball of glitching white light appearing in her hands. She shuts her eyes and the ball of light splits in two before surging forward into the two hedgehogs, causing searing pain to shoot through their bodies as some of Starlight's cyber corruption spreads into his husband. Sunshine stumbles and falls onto his knees, one hand clamped over his mouth and the other clutching at his middle as a wave of nausea washes over him. The feeling soon passes, leaving both of them dizzy and disoriented as they catch their breath to steady themselves.

Sunshine feels a static sensation running up and down his back in a soothing motion, he smiles a bit when he realizes that it was Amy attempting to comfort him by rubbing his back to the best of her capability "Thanks, Amy...you guys are the best, y'know that? I mean it" He says, slowly standing up and helping Starlight to his feet.

"Alright, I know it's been rough since we all came here and things are still pretty confusing, but I need you guys to just follow my lead" Starlight says, looking to Amy, Tails, and Knuckles "I need you three to find the Chaos Emeralds while Sunny and I take care of this corruption, okay?"

"Alright, we trust you two" Amy nods with an assuring smile. "You can count on us!" Tails chimes in. "This'll be a piece of cake!" Knuckles boasts.

"We must hurry! There isn't much time before the threat arrives, follow me!" Sage warns, motioning for the married couple to come with her as the other three Mobians split up to find the Chaos Emeralds "I will return to assist you after I complete my current objective, father" The AI assures her creator before heading towards the first tower with Sunshine and Starlight in tow.

"Be careful...my dear daughter" Eggman mutters softly, watching his digital child leave.

#ic post #plot post #sunshine tag #starshine tag #starlight tag #tails tag #amy tag #knuckles tag #eggman tag #sage tag #sonic froniters spoilers #(I won't be tagging spoilers for The Final Horizon separately so they'll continue to be tagged as Sonic Frontiers Spoilers)#(for anyone that hasn't finished the DLC yet and doesn't want to know what happens in it)

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i-probably-will-hesitate · 8 months

Text

Chapter 2 -

If I Could Hold You For A Minute?

8 am,

Chicago,

Micheal and Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

22nd February 2022.

15 and a half hours before.

Ruth grumbles, as she is ripped harshly from her dream by the sound of the phone ringing. She fumbles for her mobile, which she left on her bedside table but frowns when she realises it’s not her phone that’s ringing.

With a curse she drags herself from her bed and shivers as she stumbles through the hallway of her apartment. The landline has been ringing at all sorts of odd hours lately, filled with people Ruth barely knows offering up their condolences. It has made her miss Mikey more than she could have thought possible, a reminder that he is gone.

She had thought now that the funeral was over that people would stop ringing, that they would leave her alone.

Or rather she had hoped.

“Hello,” Her tone is sharp and short, sending a clear message to whoever it is at the end of the phone, that she is not pleased.

“Finally, you think keeping your mother in law waiting so long is a good idea?”

“Donna,” Ruth sighs as she leans against the wall curling her feet in slightly as the cold on the wooden floors takes root. She had been hoping that Donna wouldn’t contact her today, in truth she was hoping now that Mikey was dead that Donna would just leave her alone.

Ruth frowned, she wondered when that had happened, when she had started hoping that people would just leave her alone. Loneliness was an addiction, or maybe it was grief.

“Well?” The woman on the other end demands.

“I’m sorry Donna, what do you need?”

“Have you heard from Sugar?”

“No, is she ok?” Ruth had been worried considering how erratic the Berzatto family was that one of them was going to do something stupid, like get arrested, she hadn’t thought it would be Sugar though.

“How would I know she hasn’t called me.”

Ruth pinches the bridge of her nose, irritation rising through her, “Donna, it’s so early,”

She sighs, “I’ll give her a call and see if I can get a response.”

There’s a slight pause and Ruth decides to bite the bullet.

“How are you holding up Donna?” but the dull hum at the other end indicates that Donna has hung up the phone. Ruth doesn’t find it in herself to care, all she wants is to go back to bed, but Donna’s got her worried now and so with limbs still filled with sleep she lifted her arm again and lifting the receiver off the wall pushed in Sugar’s mobile number.

It rings maybe 5, 6 times before a tired “Hello,” comes from the other end.

Ruth lets out a sigh of relief, “Hey, you wanna tell me why your mother is calling me this early in the morning about your whereabouts?”

Sugar laughs and it takes Ruth by surprise, she doesn’t think she’s heard anybody laugh since Mikey died and her stomach begins to turn.

“I was sleeping, who wants to be up this early, unless you’re my mother,” She laughs again, “Or Mikey, when did he leave today probably before 5,”

She keeps on talking but Ruth fails to hear her, everythings gone fuzzy, as the anger begins to claw its way up Ruth’s body, who’d have thought that one day after her brother's funeral, Sugar would become so cruel.

“What did you say?” Ruth interrupts Sugar’s rambling.

“Uh, I don't know what did I say?” Sugar has gone from sounding light and carefree to having a slight tremble in her voice, she’s worried Ruth’s mind supplies.

“Is this your way of coping?” Ruth snaps, tears gathering in her eyes.

“Ruth, what… what are you talking about?” Sugar asks, the worry becoming louder in her voice.

Ruth scoffed, “You’re being mean Sugar,”

There was a pause and Ruth heard Sugar shifting up in bed, “Ruth, what’s happened, have you and Mikey argued, where did he go?”

Ruth hung up and stared at the wall for the next hour. She couldn’t understand what Sugar was doing, why she was being so cruel. She didn’t care that this was how Sugar had chosen to channel her grief.

She hated her.

The phone began to ring again and Ruth rubbed her forehead as a headache began to form.

She picked the phone up.

“You ok?”

“Carmy?”

And for a second all she can hear is his soft exhale, “I haven’t heard from you in a while,” She says softly, a quiver in her voice.

He sighs again, “Well I would if you were better at answering the phone,”

She laughs slightly, “I always pick up the phone it was always Mikey who wouldn’t pick it up,” she feels a pain growing in her chest, “Even though he insisted on getting that fucking landline,” She said with a roll of her eyes.

The guilt eating her up, her mother had always told her not to speak ill of the dead.

Carmy is silent over the phone, “Ruth…” The pause is hours long as she picks at her hand, “Sugar called me,”

Ruth shifted slightly the cold of the radiator she was leaning in, seeping past her pyjamas.

“Did she tell you what she said?” Ruth asked, anger building up.

“Whad she say?” He slurred slightly,

Her lip trembled as she struggled to breathe, “ She kept talking about Mikey and.. She … she kept saying…. And I was… I was….”

“Woah, woah, woah, Ruth what’s the problem, where’s Mikey, has he left, is he ok?” Carmy words were rushed and worried.

Rth felt her heart grow cold.

“What? Is this a sibling thing, you’re just going to torture me?”

“Ruth, what?”

“He’s dead Carmy, you know this,” The tears streaming down her cheeks, “So why the fuck are you doing this to me?” She screamed into the phone before slamming it back into the receiver.

She stared at it before ripping the entire thing off from the wall, the wires fizz as she pulls it. She drops the thing on the ground, and walks back to her bed, not before reaching up and opening the windows in her bedroom.

She hopes that she’ll die, and dying of cold seems the best way to go.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

11 am

Chicago,

Micheal and Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

12 hours before

The bang of the door pulls Ruth from her sleep, sitting up she pulls the duvet up closer around her as she shivers, she barely has time to pull her face into a frown, before Sugar appears in the doorway.

“Oh my god,” Sugar sighs in relief at Ruth sitting up in bed as she moves to hug the woman, she began to cry as she speaks, “Ruth, we’ve been calling you but you weren't picking up and we called the restaurant and, oh my god,” Sugar repeated as her tears turned to sobs.

Sugar pulled Ruth into her arms, “I thought something had happened,”

Ruth brushed Sugar off as she rose from the bed, trying her hardest to ignore the cold of the room, “Something has happened…” Ruth started as Carmy walked into the room.

His hands were up, as if she was a deer caught in headlights, “Ruth you need to tell us what happened,”

Ruth shook her head hugging herself as she backed away from the siblings, “Why are you doing this to me?” She asked as her back hit the wall, she sniffed as more tears fell, “What do you want from me?” She began lightly hitting her hand, unable to handle what was happening.

“Hey, hey,” Carmy called as he rushed towards her and grabbed her hands, he began to speak softly, “We called the restaurant, Mikey is coming home,”

Ruth began to shake her head as she took in what Carmy was saying, she opened to reply, something heavy and angry when the slam of the front door stopped her. She stood completely still as Mikey came into view, face flushed and breathing heavily as he took in the scene in front of him.

“Mikey,” Ruth breathed as she slowly moved to back away, hitting the wall she was already flush against.

Mikey stepped forward but she held out a hand, releasing a deep sob as she took him in , Creamy and Sugar watching worriedly from the side their hands slightly raised in case Ruth suddenly keeled over.

“Baby, what’s wrong, you got the entire family up in arms thinking something happened,” Mikey started, by his tone he was gunning for a joke but the look on his wife's face meant that it fell flat.

He moved closer to her as she spoke,” You’re dead,”

He stopped, frowning, “I’m right here, I promise you,”

She shook her head, “You’re not real, you died,” She sniffled wiping the tears from her eyes so she could look straight at him, “You left me all alone,” She stepped towards him and pushed him, hard,

“You,”

Push,

“Left,”

Push,

“Me,”

Push,

“All,”

Push,

“Alone,”

At the end, Ruth’s voice cracked as she collapsed into her husband's arms, and he… he was real. She pushed herself closer and closer to her as if she tried hard enough they would merge and become one.

He held her, one arm around her waist while the other cradled her head, and turned to Carmy, “Will you close the window?” he asked the younger man.

WIth a nod, Carmy moved to shut the window, stopping the cold breeze that was rushing in.

Mikey turned to Sugar, “Call mom,” He asked, his voice soft and soothing as Ruth continued to cry into his chest, she nodded and left the room reaching for her mobile, soon followed by Carmy, leaving the couple alone in their room.

Mikey moved Ruth backwards slowly, still holding her tight in his arms, the back of her legs hitting the bed as he lowered her down onto the bed to sit, crouching in front of her as he took her face in his hands.

He waited until she lifted her head to wipe her nose, his face set in a stern line, “You have to talk to me baby, because i’m drawing a blank here,”

Her voice was quiet, “You’re dead Mikey,” Her head tilting to the left as the pain of her admission hit her.

He looked at her, “I’m right here,”

She lifted her hand to cover his arms that were still raised to her face, “You died, oh god Mikey and we buried you and… and,”

He moved his head closer to lean his forehead against hers, “You’ve had a nightmare,”

She shook her head.

“No, no Ruth listen to me, you’ve had a bad dream,” He kissed her, his touch feather like, “You’ve had a bad dream, but it’s over now, and you’re ok,”

Ruth revealed a small smile, her face protesting after having spent so long settling in a frown. “You promise,”

“Hey,” He lightly scolded, “Would I lie to you?”

The small smiled that appeared on her face were enough to answer that question.

“Okay, why don’t you lie down and I’ll get you a drink,” He suggested but when he stood up to make his way to their cramped kitchen, she grabbed a hold of his arms and pulled him down,

“Please don’t leave me Mikey,” she whispered her words coated in fear, he stared at, taking in the bags under her eyes and the tremble of her lips and nodded slowly. Standing up he removed his jacket and climbed into the bed next to her, taking her into his arms.

He sat back against the head board as she lay her head on his chest, the steady thumping of his heart lulling her to sleep.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

3pm

Chicago,

Micheal and Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

8 hours before

Ruth woke with a start, her eyes wide as she searched the room, and her heart sank in her chest, tears gathering in her eyes as she realised her was gone,

That maybe he was never there.

She rose on shaky legs, her hands gripping her hair as she made her way to hallway, she intended to get to the phone, to call Sugar or Carmy, but stopped short as she took in the sight of the landline in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Her breathing soon becoming heavier, more urgent as she looked all around her lost on what her next move would be, her eyes darted from her bedroom door to the door of the kitchen, where she stopped as she took in the low rumbling of voices.

Ruth stepped forward and opened the door, letting out a sigh of relief as she took in the room, and rushed forward to Mikey who was sat with his siblings at the dining table.

She unceremoniously sat on his lap and she buried her face once again in his chest, she stayed like that for awhile, breathing him in, until she realised how quiet the room had become and lifted her head slowly.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” She said quietly as she took in the looks on both Carmy and sugar’s faces.

She went to open her mouth, before turning sharply towards Carmy, “Carmy, what are you doing here, I thought you’re in the city?”

He smiled slowly at her, “Well I got a phone call from my sister, and from the sounds of it either my brother,had died or left you, I figured you’d probably need me more,”

She smiled gratefully at him, before Mikey spoke up, “Hey, wouldn’t you be coming for me if i’d left her?” He asked, his voice filled with teasing fun.

Carmy shook his head, “Oh no, if you two got a divorce I would be on Ruth’s side no matter what,” He joked.

Sugar nodded, “Sorry Mikey, i don’t even think mom would be on your side,”

Ruth started laughing,”Thanks you two,”

Sugar nodded,” If you two broke up, it would for sure be Mikey’s fault, you’re a saint,”

“Ok, Ok,” Mikey interrupted, “Well we’re not getting a divorce so you two can still be on my side as well,” He said, the others laughed but Ruth looked up the smile on her face falling as she took in the strange look on her husbands face, like maybe he hadn’t found the joke as funny as everybody else had.

She leaned in closer and whispered in his ear,” Who’s in charge of the kitchen if you’re here,”

“Richie,” He answered.

Ruth rolled her eyes, “Great, it’ll be burned down by this evening,” Her statement sending another round of laughter through the table as she kissed Mikey’s cheek.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

5pm

Chicago,

Micheal and Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

6 hours before

Carmy and Sugar had left about twenty minutes beforehand, Sugar to go see Donna and Carmy needing to leave if he was to make it back home at a reasonable time.

The apartment was once again quiet and Ruth smiled from her seat at the table as she watched Mikey in the kitchen. It was rare that she got him to herself so early in the evening and she was planning to make the most out of it.

She let out a small sigh as she made to stand, he looked up from where he was stirring the sauce, “hey, I thought I told you to stay put?” He questioned not unkindly.

She smiled at him, “I’m only going to the toilet, is that ok officer?”

He grinned at her playful tone making his way towards her and wrapping an arm around her as he pulled her flush towards him, as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He leaned into the kiss her, rough and hungry as he deepened the kiss. Ruth lost herself in the feeling of him as his free hand began to trail down, slowly.

His hand brushed past her breast, her nipples hardening as he became rougher, but leaving her wanting more as he moved his hand further down.

He reached the waistband of he leggings slowly pulling the out to make space for his hand, but she pulled back, breathless as she lifted her head up a smirk painting her lips,

“Hold that thought,” She whispered, through gulps of air, Mikey groaned as he tried to drag her back towards him, she giggled, “Mikey, I’m going to wet myself,”

He let her go, she moved towards their toilet, throwing a wink his way as she shut the door, leaving him waiting.

Their toilet was disgusting, the whole room was filled with damp, and could have used with having every facility being replaced at least twenty years ago. But they had tried to make it their own.

Mikey had painted it the shade of blue that Ruth had picked out, and then they’d both spent their day off placing tiles all around the wall.

It was in an effort to make the space brighter, more homely, more…

Ruth shook her head, her dreams of a perfect home, had ended with a leaky sink and a shower that was always just a bit too hot, but it had her and it had Mikey and so it was perfect.

Ruth smiled to herself, as she stood to wash her hands, she looked at the cracked mirror that hung over the sink. She took in her face, and bit her lip, reaching to open the mirror that double as the door to the cabinet she began to move around to see if she could find something to hold up her hair.

She paused as her hand knocked a container over, leaving it to fall and land in the sink the contents rattling.

It was a plain container small, and unsuspecting, if Ruth hadn’t been so keen to find something she most likely would never have discovered it. She opened it, her smile fell into a large frown as she took in the contents.

She’s known about Mikey’s addictions, but when she’d married him, he’d assured her that whatever he’s been using was long in the past.

He’d lied to her, a headache began to form as a strange wave of deja-vu washed over her. Her mind fuzzy as she tried to remember, but a clatter from the kitchen interrupted her thoughts, she scrambled to pick the small bottle up.

With once last glance at her reflection she took a deep breath in, and opened the door, dreading what was about to happen.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

9pm

Chicago,

Micheal and Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

2 hours before

Their fight had been so loud that they’d had the cops called on them. Ruth couldn’t understand why he’d lied to her, what had happened that had led him back down this path, and Mikey wouldn’t budge.

He wouldn’t talk to her, she had begged and begged but he would not budge and once the cops had left, he’d left too. Picked up his jacket and walked out into the cold air.

Ruth had spent the rest of her day in darkness.

Not literal darkness, she’d put all the lights on in the apartment to spite Mikey, he was always on about the waste of electricity… so she turned them all on.

Childish.

But the anger that was pulsing through her was almost overwhelming, and she knew that it was stupid and irresponsible but she couldn’t help being mad.

He’d told her he was better.

He’d promised.

But he wasn’t.

And so she had spent the rest of her day, scrolling through the internet looking for a rehab to send him too. Somewhere nice, where he could relax and cook , and still enjoy life.

Scrolling through the internet trying to find somewhere affordable, somewhere close, somewhere that would cure him.

She was drawing blanks.

They wouldn’t be able to afford to send him anywhere nice,

Was nice a good word to describe rehab?

Whether it was the right word to use the sentiment remained the same, nowhere was affordable and those that were, were complete and utter shitholes, not the place she wanted to send her husband.

During her search her the pounding in her head had grown stronger. She was sure she had done this before, was this not what her dream had been about?

But se shook her head, the emotions of the day were getting to her, causing her to think and feel things that couldn’t be true.

She had to stick with the facts, otherwise she was sure she was going to go mad.

She took in a deep shuddering breath in as the lock of the front door began to jingle, signalling Mikey’s return.

She squared her shoulders as she stood at the end of the hallway facing the door head on.

Everything is going to be ok.

Mikey sighs, dropping his bag at the entryway as he takes in his wife.

Evenings aren’t usually like this, usually they get home together, completely enamoured with one another.

He takes a step forward, she doesn’t move.

“Ruth,” he shifts from foot to foot, looking everywhere but at her,

She sighs, “Are we going to talk about it?”

He shakes his head, “Not tonight,” His face shakes only slightly.

“Ok,” She whispers.

And with that she walks slowly towards him, taking his hands in hers and resting her forehead on his, his head lowered to reach hers.

“It’s going to be ok,” He whispers to her.

She nods, choosing to stay silent, she’s worried that if she says even one word she’ll die.

He leads her through to their bedroom and lays down bringing her down with him.

“It’s going to be ok,” She whispers into the dark of the room.

So wrapped in her husband and the pain that’s settled on his face, that she fails to see the date illuminated on her alarm clock,

22nd February 2022.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

11.30 pm

NYC,

Micheal and Ruth Berzatto’s apartment.

30 minutes after…

There’s a thunderous knocking at the door, and Ruth groans. It seems unfair to her at this moment that every time today that she has tried to have some sort of peaceful rest she has been disturbed.

The knocking grows louder and louder, “Mikey…” She groans into her pillow, her hand reaching up to his pillow, her head lifting sharply when her hand touches the pillow that’s grown cold in the absence of Mikey.

“Mikey!” She calls louder, hoping that he is in the other room.

Finally she gives up the thought that Mikey is going to rescue her from having to leave their bed, she makes her way towards the pounding at the door looking into rooms as she walks past. Her heart begins to beat faster as every room she passes reveals the clear lack of Mikey in their apartment.

Her hand stills as it settles on the front door handle, the knocking has intensified and for some reason, for no reason at all she thinks that when she opens the door something is going to change.

And that’s when it hits, that she knows exactly hwo is behind those doors and knows exactly what they are going to say.

Because she has lived this before.

She knows exactly where Mikey had gone, she knows exactly what he’s done.

Her legs threaten to give in as the reality of these realisations hit her.

She stands there staring at the door, the pounding becoming muffled and hazy as she realises the second chance she’s been given, and then how she’s wasted it, that instead of saving Mikey she’d berated him, lectured him,

She may as well have been the one holding the gun, pulling the trigger, she had killed him long before tonight.

The door opens, Ruth finds herself surprised she can’t remember turning her hand to open the door.

The officer standing in the doorway has taken his hat off, and with a solemn look on his face raises his hand to make sure that the door doesn’t close.

As if she’ll close the door on him.

Why would she do that?

“Mrs. Berzatto, may I come in?”

#Chapter 2 #the bear #original female character #original character #michael berzatto #natalie berzatto #carmen berzatto #family #married couple #groundhog day

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breeze01ai · 1 year

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How to Optimize your E-commerce for More Sales?

E-commerce optimization can help you achieve just by making changes to your website that can generate more leads and revenue for your company. And guess what? I'm here to share some important techniques for e-commerce website optimization that can help you achieve success.

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If you want to reach customers on mobile devices (and let's be honest, who doesn't?), you need to make sure your website is mobile-friendly. A mobile-friendly website is one that works well on smartphones and other mobile devices. This means it should be easy to navigate and use, even on a small screen.

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Provide contact information in your website

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Highlight sales in your website

Who doesn't love a good deal? If you're running a sale or promotion, be sure to highlight it on your website. You could feature it on your homepage or create a dedicated "sale" section on your site.

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Last but not least, make sure to include a site search function on your website. This will help your customers find what they're looking for more quickly and easily, which can lead to more sales for your business.

FAQ

Why is your e-commerce website mobile optimisation so crucial?

So, have you ever visited an e-commerce website on your mobile phone and found it difficult to navigate or take forever to load? It can be pretty frustrating, right?

That's why mobile optimization is crucial for e-commerce websites. When a website is optimized for mobile devices, it means that it is designed to be easily accessible and user-friendly on a small screen. This makes it more comfortable and convenient for customers to browse and make purchases, which can lead to increased traffic and sales for the website.

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Compressing images.

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#ecommerce #marketing #sales #breeze.ai

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blue-opossum · 1 year

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Giant Centipede, Lighting the Flag, Wrong Name, Flood

Saturday morning, 11 March 2023.

Dream #: 20,536-01.

2 minutes and 24 seconds to read.

The first scene originates from typical distorted associations with sleeping and head-based somatosensory responses. My youngest daughter is a baby (instead of her current age of 10). I hear a noise and consider she had crawled near a corner of another room and knocked some items down. There is contrived drama when I go to check. At first, she is not there, but I create her from various small objects that fell and take her to Zsuzsanna, concerned about her head, though it continually changes, responding to my imagination. She is sleeping (this dream's sleep simulacrum). Auditory Phasing: I place my ear to her back and vividly hear her heart beating slowly.

In a typical sleep-based "water reinduction" scene, I see spilled water everywhere - flowing from a large table. The water on the floor is illogically several inches high over the floor, yet not at that height farther over. I look around, checking to see if there are books or paper, and remain unconcerned. I decide not to summon their presence in the narrative. Otherwise, many miscellaneous objects are everywhere on the table and floor.

In the next scene, I see an enormous orange centipede crawling along a ledge or what resembles a chalk holder for a blackboard as part of the wall, about three feet above the floor. I am unconcerned. It seems about four feet long. I call to my youngest son to come and see it.

As I watch the creature, it separates into orange fuzzy spheres with legs and arms. A pair of them walk behind the others, "holding hands." Their "arms" are like black pipe cleaners. I realize they are toys and not alive. My son tells me an (unseen) string connects to the ceiling fan on the other side of the room to make them move. His explanation is ambiguous because he calls it a helicopter (an association with its rotary as like a ceiling fan). The association is a typical vestibular system casting - helicopters otherwise appear in my dreams for that reason.

Leg Mobility Staging - with Cast Height Navigation:

It is nighttime. I look outside through our front doorway. (It is unlikely because we would never leave our front door open to the public. Our house is incorrect, as always, and there is no porch in this case, plus there is a sidewalk instead of a grassy footpath.) I see a man's legs as he ascends a utility pole. I realize a celebratory event has started where they direct lights over an (unknown) flag. The event happens once a year. (In this instance, there is a predictable but vague anticipation of the man falling, but I choose not to bring it about here.)

(Someone climbing, including my dream self, is a form of casting my vestibular-motor response to variations in REM atonia while sleeping. This type of v-m casting has occurred every sleep cycle for over 50 years, sometimes several times.)

"It's starting," I call to members of my family. I realize we should cross to the other side of the street and look toward our house to see the lit flag atop the pole.

My youngest daughter is now closer to her correct age. I call her name from another room so we can watch the event as the rest of my family learns of it. I mistakenly call her Israel a few times until her correct name (Isabelle) comes to mind as my real-world memory begins to return.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

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brattyfics · 3 years

Text

Like That

Pairing: Rio x Black!Reader

Summary: You and Rio get to know each other better. Loosely based on ‘Like That’ by Doja Cat.

Warnings: Smut.

Word Count: 3.5K

Installments: Say So | Like That | Talk Dirty

And baby, I want it, and I'll just be honest 'Cause I just can't front when I look at you

About six weeks have passed since Rio declared himself your man, and you quickly learned he took the title very seriously.

He was busier than usual with ‘flipping his game,’ and you were busy preparing to transition your shop, but you saw each other often despite time constraints. You agreed date nights at least once a week were a must, but when you couldn’t see each other, Rio made sure to end nights with a phone call. Virtually falling asleep next to him gave you butterflies, reminding you just how exciting new relationships could be. It took prodding, but he told you made-up bedtime stories and the boring details of his day. In return, you shared things about yourself— childhood memories, the crazy things your mom did to embarrass you. He was sweet and attentive, and you found it refreshing to be with someone who was just as infatuated with you.

On your second date, he took you to his favorite restaurant, a fancy sushi place with expensive rolls. He taught you to hold chopsticks the wrong way the way he did and even fed you across the small table, a couple of unfortunate rolls falling apart due to his prodding. You tried your best to hide your amusement at the pensive look on his face. For whatever reason, Rio thought of himself as a sushi connoisseur, but it was clear to you that he was still learning.

“You’re no better than me!” He admonished when he noticed the way you held your chopsticks. Like his technique, it was incorrect, but it worked for you— sort of. “I never said I was.” You couldn’t keep the amusement off your face any longer. “You’re the one who comes here weekly. I thought you were a professional, and we’re in the same boat.” He folded his arms on top of the table as he insisted you were wrong, but secretly he found your teasing endearing. Later that night, he called and gave you a cheesy line about loving to see you smile.

The following week, you had lunch at a mom-and-pop soul food restaurant that served the best cornbread and peach cobbler in the city. The owners, an adorable older couple, Donna and Gene, and servers alike stopped by your table to meet Rio. Donna gushed over Rio, showering him with compliments and extra cornbread. “Girl, he is cute!” She told you, failing miserably at whispering. He smirked as you rolled your eyes, but he handled the attention well, being friendly and personable even when Gene kept going on and on about changes to the menu, one chef to another.

A few days later, he called you up randomly and asked you to get ready and ride with him somewhere. “What should I wear?” You asked, hoping for a hint. You could hear him smile as he said, “It doesn’t even matter, ma. You always look good.” The occasion had turned out to be ‘Foodtruck Friday.’ Barbecue, kebab, taco, ice cream, and other miscellaneous food trucks were parked in a spacious lot in Downtown Detroit. You settled at a picnic table and shared several plates of food as you discussed the possibility of your own mobile ‘Mad Batter’ shop somewhere down the line. It got you thinking about the future.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?” You asked the dreaded question in between bites of a colorful Korean fusion taco. He stiffened as he considered the answer. “What is this, a job interview?” Sometimes you saw peeks of bossman Rio rather than the Christopher Castillo you were getting to know. It happened seemingly out of nowhere when you asked questions he felt were invasive.

You looked up from the panko-fried shrimp, red cabbage, shredded carrots, and tasty orange sauce wrapped up in a flour tortilla with a frown. You had two choices: respond in the way he had or make light of the situation. So, you said, “Kinda. You’re auditioning for a spot on my roster, so...”

He stopped chewing the half-eaten dumpling and swallowed hard. “That’s not funny.”

“You better start taking the interviewing part of the audition more seriously then.” You wiped your fingers on a napkin, and he gathered your hand in his own, wearing a look you couldn’t decipher. “You got it, ma.”

You played a game of mini-golf at the local arcade. Rio stood tall behind you, holding you by your hips as he corrected your stance. You purposefully arched your back, brushing against him just slightly. “Like this?” You looked over your shoulder with the most innocent look you could muster, but his eyes were glued to your ass. “Yeah, just like that.” He answered in a low tone without looking up. You giggled as you took your swing, adding a wiggle for his benefit. You pretended to care about the ball as it glided across the bright green tarp towards the hole. “How was that?” You chirped, looking down the lane.

“I can’t even lie. I don’t care about the game right now. I just wanna watch you.” Your aim was terrible, and the ball never went in the hole without several attempts, but he insisted you finish playing the course. You teased him about it for days after despite his claim that he actually enjoyed the game because it was one of Marcus’ favorites.

“Stop lying! You just wanted an excuse to openly watch my ass.”

“Why you always gotta call me out?”

You shopped a cozy health and wellness store with hundreds of cool little trinkets for sale. Neither of you had been there before, so you took your time exploring, stealing unexpected kisses from the other. Rio took full advantage of the size of the store, pulling you by the hand and holding you close to his side.

He frowned at the large collection of shiny crystals. “A rock, really? What does anybody need with a rock?”

“It’s not a rock!” You hissed, head whipping around as you hoped the owner didn’t hear him.

“What is it then? It looks like a rock to me.” He picked one up, turning it over in his hands.

“It’s a crystal!”

“What’s the difference?”

“It has healing properties...” Rio snorted but strung his arm across your shoulder and listened intently as you read the info cards to him. When it was all said and done, he bought an aventurine stone to apologize to the owner for prosperity, well-being, and good luck.

The next day, he disappeared with no warning. You had been worried sick until Mick let you know he was busy handling something. It would have only taken a minute to tell you that, so you were (understandably) pissed. He showed up at the shop several days later like nothing had ever happened. “What’s up, mama?” The greeting that usually melted you grated on your nerves. All of your feelings about the situation bubbled up to the surface. It was hard to find the right words— you were still getting to know each other, so how mad could you be? At the same time, how little did he think of you to not say anything? Finally, you settled on, “I can’t do the disappearing act.”

Rio wasn’t used to answering to anyone, not even his child’s mother, about his whereabouts, but he put his palms up in surrender when he saw the serious expression you wore.

“You’re right, mama. That’s my bad. It won’t happen again.”

And it hadn’t.

But knowing ahead of time only made it a tiny bit easier, especially when he didn’t have a set return date. You were going on day seven (the longest you had gone without seeing him since you started dating) when he called to say he made it home and wanted to see you. Your heavy heart swelled with relief. You missed him way more than you probably should have, so you insisted on a night in at your place, wanting him to feel relaxed and at home instead of on guard somewhere public.

It had been a long six weeks without sex while he romanced you with delicious food and beautiful words. It wasn’t an easy task, but you knew as soon as sex was thrown in the mix, you would be done for, either destined to be his or ruined by him. It was a scary thought, but distance had indeed made the heart grow fonder, and you cared about him enough to take a chance.

He was set to arrive within the hour, but you were still unsure of what to wear, frantically rummaging through the dresser for something cute and comfortable. You let out a frustrated groan when your phone started to ring, thinking Rio might have come early, but when you look down at your phone, you see your best friend’s name and face. You swipe quickly, accepting the FaceTime call. “Hey, girl!”

“Hey, stranger!” You pick up the phone, so you can look at her. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” She replies with just as much sass. “I haven’t talked to you in what— two weeks?”

“We talk—“

“—text.”

“Okay, fine. Text. We text every day. What are you talking about?”

“That’s not the same.” She insists even as you remind her of the ridiculous amount of time you spend trading memes and food pictures with her.

“Anyway, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to decide what I’m going to wear between this, this, or this.” You move the camera around, showing her the different options. A black-and-white tank and short set with ‘Being cute is not a crime’ in a cute font. A fuzzy grey sweatsuit set with hearts, or a simple cream hoodie with matching shorts.

“Um, what’s the occasion?” You giggle at the look on her face, knowing she thinks none of the above are appropriate for wearing outside of the house.

“Movie night in.”

“You need help picking an outfit for movie night with yourself?” Her face scrunches up in confusion. “Wait, is it movie night with yourself?” You try to be casual about it, shrugging your shoulders in response. As usual, she sees through your bullshit and goes straight into an interrogation. “Oh, bitch. You been holding out on me!” She asks you five questions in a row without stopping to breathe before settling on one. “Who?”

You gnaw on your bottom lip. “...Rio.”

“Rio?” She frowns. “Like the guy we work for, Rio? With the eyebrows and the neck tattoo, Rio?”

“Yes, that Rio.”

“Wow.” You wince but decide it’s best to get it over with. “What? I know you, so I know there’s more where that came from.”

“I don’t know what to say! From what I can tell, he’s a decent dude, I guess, but you know what he does. You definitely know what we do for him! You don’t think that could be a problem?”

“It’s messy, for sure, and I can admit that, but I’ve been thinking about getting out anyway...” She nods. “Then, I guess there’s nothing else for me to say about that. You’re both grown, and you know what you’re doing.” She was your best friend, which meant she’d always give her honest opinion, but wouldn’t berate you about your choices. Just like that, you return to your regular discussion topics, everything from warehouse gossip (yes, even in the business of crime, there’s a rumor mill) to new music releases. Before you knew it, forty minutes had passed, and Rio was calling your phone. You promised to call her more often before hanging up.

You sing your ‘hello’ into the phone, hoping Rio can’t detect the shakiness in your voice as you clumsily pull on your bottoms.

“Hey, mama. You about ready? I know you’re sensitive about your space and all that.” He was referring to the fact that he had never been past the doorway of your home. Your home was your sacred place, so you were extra careful about who came in and what energy they brought. It was always nerve-wracking to let somebody into the space that you cherished so much.

“Yeah.” He picks up on the hesitancy in your voice. “Are you sure?” You nod your head as if he can see you before telling him yes with a giggle. “Alright, well, I’m outside. Can I come in?” You bite your lip, butterflies fluttering in your tummy. “Yeah, I’ll come unlock the door.” He whispers his thanks, and you take a moment to force yourself to relax. When you meet him at the door, you do so with an open mind and heart, taking in his appearance with a goofy grin on your face. As usual, he’s dressed in all black, wearing a well-fitted t-shirt and sweatpants. He’s casual but still so high quality and attractive.

“Hi.” You breathe out like a dork when you realize you’re staring. It helps that he seems just as mesmerized, stepping forward to envelop you in a tight, warm hug. He sways you from side to side before pulling back, his hands resting heavily on the top of your ass. He settles for a quick peck on the lips because he has something to say. “You’re as pretty as ever, darlin’.” He says earnestly, shaking his head as he steps back to look you over once more.

“Kiss me again.” His hands cup your ass as you devour each other in the open doorway. You forget your surroundings. “Damn, ma. Can I at least get inside before you jump my bones? I don’t mind giving your neighbors a show if that’s your thing, but…” You turn to hide your embarrassment, leaving him to close the door behind you as you gesture around the room as if you’re in an episode of MTV Cribs. “... here’s the living room. The kitchen’s through the arch. The bathroom’s over there...” He follows you with his red as you point.

“And the bedroom?”

You snort. “The tour stops here for now. Sit down.” Your tone leaves no room for argument. He settles into the soft couch while you grab the snack tray from the kitchen. Homemade popcorn, chocolate-covered pretzels, and dried fruit gummies are on the menu.

“All this for me?” His arms snake around your waist so that you can curl up into his side. “What we watching?” You grab the remote. “I saw a trailer this week that caught my attention. I’ll play it for you.” He didn’t care what you watched as long as he got to be close to you, so it didn’t take long for you to get the movie started. He stole glances at you when his knuckles brushed against your bare knees under the blanket. You’re embarrassed at how wet the small action makes you, so you stretch out across the couch and place your bare feet in his lap, silently planning your revenge. The movie may as well not be playing because you couldn’t be less interested in the plot as you lightly stroke him through his sweatpants with the balls of your feet.

“Ma...” He warns, watching you in the low lighting. He’s come to learn you like to tease, but he doesn’t think he can take it, not tonight. “Hmm?” You hum innocently, loving the strained look on your face. He doesn’t move even as you sit up on your haunches and kiss him. It’s slow and long in the best way. He pulls you to sit in his lap. His hands roam your body as you grind down onto him, relishing in the feeling of the soft skin on your tummy. He sighs into your mouth as one hand finds your bare breasts.

He pulls away to talk shit. “No bra? You just knew I was gonna put out, huh?” He pushes the cotton material up so he can see you properly. “Perfect.” He murmurs into your skin. You let him kiss and lick and suck on your nipples until the pressure you feel below is too much to handle. You’re a quivering mess when he finally helps you pull the cotton material up and over your head. It lands on top of the television behind you, but neither of you notice.

You nudge him until he removes his own shirt, and then he lifts his hips to help you when you begin tugging on his sweats. They puddle at his feet while you spread your legs wide, desperate to get your hands on him. “I could cry right now.” You admit honestly when you finally see him, biting your lip. He arches a brow. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing, darlin’?” His hips jerk when you take him into your hands, the cold temperature surprising him.

“It’s definitely a good thing.” You whisper excitedly, staring with wonder as he hardens in your hands. He barks out a laugh, stunned by your ability to make him laugh, even with his dick in your hands. “That’s really nice, ma. I feel real special.” Your eyes meet, and silent promises of all the filthy things you’re going to do to each other are exchanged. “You should. I’m about to change your life.” He throbs in your hands, loving that you find small ways to challenge him.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.” He wraps his arms around you in preparation to get up, but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don’t wanna.”

“No? What you wanna do then?”

You answer him by slipping to your knees. You spit on his dick, stroking him up and down slowly. He watches you closely as you lower your mouth, wrapping your lips around the tip. It takes a lot of restraint, but he lets you do your thing, slowly working him deeper into your throat. He closes his eyes as he concentrates on lasting, but he can’t turn his ears off, the obscene smacks painting a vivid picture for him. When you swipe your tongue across his balls, he moves to stop you, grabbing your shoulders. Fire dances in your eyes as you realize you got him where you want him. “I don’t wanna.” You repeat.

“You are a brat.”

You release him with a pop. “The biggest.” You admit, swallowing him once more. He groans, thinking he can’t believe you’re the same sweet girl who bakes in a frilly pink apron and begs him to tell her bedtime stories.

“I want you to fuck me now.” He stops you before you can bend over the couch. “Slow down. I want you on your back, darlin.”

You throw his earlier words back at him. “That’s nice. I feel really special.”

“You should.” He mocks you, instructing you to hold your legs wide. He wastes no time licking and sucking you as enthusiastically as you had done him. “You’re so pretty. I could eat this pretty pussy forever.” He compliments as you squirm in his hold. “You’d let me, huh?” You shake your head frantically. “No! You’d drive..me crazy!” Payback is a mother, especially when Rio’s the one dishing it out. “Wait, wait—“You whimper, clawing at his shoulders.

“What?” He cajoles. He almost wants to laugh at the distressed look on your face. “I want you.” You pout, trying to sweet-talk him.

“You have me.”

“Not like this. Inside.”

“Yeah? You sure?”

“Mhm.” You swallow, watching as he fumbles around with his pants searching for a condom. He opens the golden foil packet with expert fingers, positioning himself in between your spread legs. “You don’t have any pointers for me now?” He drags his tip up and down your slit, slowly pushing his way further. Teasing. You shake your head. “No. Just fuck me.”

“That ain’t polite. You gotta say please, mama.” You scowled, but he didn’t budge. “Please.” You pleaded with the sweetest tone you could muster, sighing as he gave in. You cursed at the stretch, him at the way you squeezed him. “You feel…” He couldn’t find the words, so he buried his face in your neck, trying to gain some composure. You caressed the back of his neck sweetly. “You feel good too, baby.”

His hips stuttered forward, and you gasped as he worked himself deeper. You grasp his shoulders tightly, your nails embedding themselves into the soft skin.

“Yes!” You squeal.

“Like that?” He grits out, struggling to keep his rhythm.

“Yes, just like that!” You cry, moaning as he pounds up into you. His lips find yours again, and it’s bliss. Then before you can stop yourself, you’re calling him Daddy like it’s his given name. He groans into your sweaty neck like he’s in pain.

“You’re so nasty.” Overwhelmed and breathless, you whine your protest, “You’re nasty. Look at what you’re doing to me.” His eyes shift to where you’re connected. You’re creaming all over him and leaking down onto the couch, but you can’t bring yourself to care about anything other than coming. You do just that, mewling as you make an even bigger mess between your legs. He whispers filthy things into your ear as he finishes, grunting at the way you seem to be sucking him in even deeper.

“That was—“

“—unreal.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you can bring yourself to move. Your sweat-covered skin sticks together. You swipe your hand against your forehead while he pants.

“I wanted to ride you at least once tonight, but after that, I’ll be lucky to make it to bed.”

GENERAL TAGLIST

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903

RIO TAGLIST

@xsweetdellzx

#good girls rio #nbc good girls #manny montana #rio x reader #rio x black!reader

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