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fanficbarbie · 2 months

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❝on my cloud, i got some space for you.❞

read the rest of the series before this chapter or you’re getting spoilers.

A/N: alright, i listened to the poll. this isn’t edited so ignore any mistakes. please leave feedback in the comments ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv

Chapter Summary: the sweetest baker is surrounded by love on the anniversary of her parent's passing.

Chapter Warnings: language, alcohol, slight age gap (F!MC and Joel are 6 years apart), symptoms of anxiety and depression, panic attacks, grief, fluff, comfort, lmk if i forgot something.

Series Tags: chef! Joel, single! father Joel, no outbreak! Joel Miller, slow burn, dual-pov, fluff, flirting, friendship, eventually established relationship, eventual smut, original character, black!fem!MC, no y/n.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist, joel masterlist ⋆ spotify playlist ˖ ݁ 𖥔.

My throat croaks out a couple of notes as I hum along to the song in my ears on Wednesday. The calming smell of lemons wafts through the room reminding me of my mother. She always used to bake lemon cookies and cakes. Now the smell of sugary citrus envelopes me like a hug.

I take a break, reaching for my water bottle when I feel a tap on my shoulder. Abandoning my attempts to take a sip, I take out my earbuds.

When I turn around I see Chloe standing behind me, looking past my body at what I’m making. “I'm not trying to be rude but are we rebranding or something? Everything's lemon-flavored,” she points out with her thumb towards the front of the store.

Perspiration instantly begins collecting on top of my skin. “Oh, shit. No, I’m sorry,” I apologize, wiping my hands on my apron. “I don't know why I did that,” I murmur and my eyes drift behind her.

I’ve been in an odd daze all week, unable to focus and even Joel has noticed. I’m pretty sure he told Ellie to take it easy on me this week since she hasn’t been around much. Then again, she has been hanging at the Austin a lot more since the whole Thanksgiving fiasco. I can’t put my finger on it, but he promised he was going to take off and help support me all day today. I wonder if he likes lemon cakes.

Chloe waves her hand in front of my face, snapping me out of my thoughts. Her brows knit and concern washes over her face. “Are you okay?” she questions.

I nod, stepping past her to wrap up in the kitchen. “Yeah. I don't know what's up with me today. I just feel weird,” I remain vulnerable with her.

Chloe approaches the island I’m standing at, putting her hands on the table and leaning forward. “Ginny, love,” she looks at me as though I should already know what’s going on.

I pick up a sanitization rag and wring it out to begin cleaning the tabletop. “What?” I snip. I hate suspense.

She bites the inside of her cheek, hollowing out her mouth. An awkward silence fills the room and I curse myself for sending the others home so early. “You usually don't work today,” she points out.

I work every day, that’s the perks of owning your own bakery. “What are you talking about? it's just Friday,” I point out when the double doors to the kitchen smack open, letting in a cold gust of air.

Leo stomps in with his arms crossed, wearing black shoes and a matching tie wrapped around his neck. “Why are you working?” he chastizes, as he gets closer.

My once slow movements of cleaning pick up in frustration. I begin furiously scrubbing a stain in the metal that will realistically be there forever. “Why do people keep asking me that?” I groan.

My eyes return to focus on the stain. The fucking stain has to come out. Right now, right now, right now. “Imogen,” Leo sighs kindly. He puts his hands on my waist, pulling me backward from the procrastination. “Let’s go chat, hmm?”

I sigh, passing the cleaning products to Chloe and following Leo into the front of the bakery. He heads straight for my favorite booth, secluded in the back of the bakery towards the widows.

“You're scaring me,” I divulge, sliding into the Tiffany blue pleather seat.

Leo’s eyebrow raises before he seemingly realizes his facial expressions, reeling it back in. Men. “Relax. Have you talked to Joel today?” he questions.

“Yeah, this morning. He said to call him if I needed anything today.”

Leo leans forward across the acrylic table. “Ginny, it's December 18th,” he rasps and his words hit me like a truck.

December 18th. The day that my parents were crushed between two trucks on Interstate 290. It was unexpected and their business ties to Europe left me suddenly alone and having to clean up their shit for myself.

It took months to secure an end to it all. Although I wasn’t as close with my dad as I was with my mom, I still miss him just as much.

They say after traumatic events there’s an increase in marriages, divorces, and disappearances. As soon as I got the call, I quit and became fully invested in doing only the shit I wanted to. One of which included opening my bakery. I divorced nursing, disappeared further from the north side, and married baking.

You knew. Of course, you knew. That’s why you’ve been feeling weird all day. My head innately tilts as I stare off into space.

My spiral of cataloging my every movement to assign guilt to them begins. I should’ve known and now half the day is gone without me honoring my parents. “I’m calling Joel,” Leo’s crip voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

My head begins to shake. I don’t want to worry him for no reason. I just need to take some time away from the bakery, that is all. “No. It's not that big of a deal. I don't want to bother him,” I plead with Leo to spare the poor single father.

Leo ignores it and pulls out his phone, unlocking the device with the face sensor. “You're not bothering. Poor guy is probably just giving you space and waiting by the phone,” he explains.

Leo’s fingers tap on the tempered glass before he puts the device on the table. I look down, seeing it’s already on speaker and the ringing fills my ears.

Joel answers after two trills, per usual. “Hey. Ginny need me?” he suggests, voice dripping with honey.

I open my mouth to decline but before I do, Leo speaks up, “Yes.” If I weren’t so short I’d reach over the table and smack his head. So instead, I scold him, “Leo!” Why the fuck would he speak for me?

“My bad, Joel. She didn’t know we spoke before I came in. Yes, she does need you. I have a meeting at 1 and I need you to come by. Maybe cook her something,” he requests and the corners of my mouth quirk up in a smile. Despite what I said on the first day of our meeting, I love everything that Joel specifically cooks.

Leo pauses and her eyes look me up and down judgingly. “She doesn’t look like she’s eaten today,” he adds and I scowl at them both.

This time, I’ve had enough of Leo’s bullshit and I kick him beneath the table. He lets out a groan, shooting daggers in my direction with his eyes. But, skipping breakfast due to anxiety isn’t a cause for concern.

Joel doesn’t skip a beat, immediately answering, “Be there in 10.”

“Thanks, man,” Leo exhales, probably glad to be relieved of his suicide watch duties for the day. Maddie and Leo stayed with me during the emotional rollercoaster of this day last year, and although they’re my best friends, I don’t expect Leo to want more. Especially when I have a partner now.

He clicks the red circle on the screen and I practically collapse on the table between us. “God, Leo. I'm going to kill you,” I groan into the hard material.

“He's your boyfriend. He's supposed to be the one comforting you and not me, right?” he questions and I can’t say I disagree.

“You’re right,” I complain one last time before lifting my head and fixing the mess of curls around my head. “Okay, you can go. I’m just going to change my clothes.”

“Are you sure? I can cancel this meeting,” he placates. No, he shouldn’t. And that’s okay. I don’t want his life to stop just because mine is currently.

I try my hardest to plaster on a fake smile, but it causes me mental anguish. “Positive. I’m going to get comfy so Joel can snuggle the shit out of me,” I tell him my plans.

He grimaces, probably from my gushy words. His dark brown eyes search my face for any sign of discomfort. Once he’s satisfied, he nods. “Alright, I’ll call later. I’d stop by but you’ll be getting fucked as a distraction,” he smirks, before standing from the table and darting out of the bakery.

My jaw drops in shock. I most certainly won't be screwing my boyfriend on the anniversary of my parent's death. But maybe tomorrow, like early tomorrow. As soon as the clock hits midnight.

How can I even be horny at a time like this? There’s gotta be some unnatural demon inside of me. I drag my hands down my face, trying to pull myself back into reality before standing from the booth. Walking over to the counter, I lean over to talk to Chloe. There are still patrons in the bakery and I don’t need them hearing about my personal life. “I’m going to retire upstairs. Let me know if you need anything. Joel should be here soon and you can send him up,” I list, quietly.

Chloe nods before taking my hands in hers. “Don’t worry, I got it. This is why I’m your manager,” she eases my anxiety.

I nod, bidding her goodbye before walking towards the back of the bakery. Tears start to collect in my eyes again and I repeat my favorite mantra. No crying in public, Ginny. You just have to get upstairs then you can let it out.

But it doesn’t work.

By the time I’m climbing up the staircase, the tears are already streaming down my face causing an uncomfortable burn on my cheeks. When I reach the top, I slide the barn door open to my living quarters at an alarming rate.

The wood smacks into the door frame and I rush into the space, careful not to let the mewling kittens out behind me. I softly shut the door, watching out for their tails with strained vision.

Okay, you’re alone Ginny. Let it out.

I don’t know what I expected to happen. I couldn’t foresee myself ever falling to my knees and sobbing on the living room floor, but that’s exactly what occurs. My chest becomes tight as I choke on my own spit, babbling niceties about my mother and father.

I don’t know how long I’m crouched on the floor when I hear my living room door slide open. My knees feel sore from the hardened floor beneath me but my tears don’t stop, creating a wet stain on my grey top. “Damn, sugar,” I hear Joel say before he slides the door shut behind him.

I look up to find him rushing towards me, joining me on the floor. His typically messy hair looks freshly cut and I can tell he's used the start of the day to visit the barbershop. His green flannel shirt is opened nice and low, hugging his biceps deliciously. “Deep breaths. Know it’s hard but you can do it,” he encourages, rubbing warm circles onto my back.

His words barely register and as I try to get my breathing under control, hiccuping in between breaths. With each uneven breath, I attempt to keep a hold on my digestive system and not let out a sad fart. Or worse, vomit in his lap.

“After Sarah died, I had panic attacks too. Still get ‘em sometimes,” he divulges.

His hands trail up my spine to the back of my neck. His thumb traces soothing designs into my skin, effectively grounding me. My rocketing heartbeat slowly starts to steady and I allow myself to close my eyes knowing that Joel is here to catch me if I fall. His arms envelop me from behind, pulling my body so I’m sitting in his lap.

He softly caresses my hair and I tune him out as he begins whispering affirmations in my ear. I stare off into space and I jerk slightly in his hold when Joel presses a soft kiss to my neck.

I know where I am, but the last 30 minutes feel like a blur. Disassociation is a bitch.

When I finally feel aware again, Joel is still murmuring into my neck, but this time he’s talking about our future. “We’ll always be here. Me 'n Ellie through whatever,” he promises, pausing to take a breath.

I nod to let him know that I’m actually back this time. He rubs my back and I hear a soft meow coming from the floor. Toph is looking up at me with her green eyes, seemingly afraid. “We’ll have to get a bigger place for the 5 of us,” Joel adds, and I chuckle, scooping the orange kitten into my arms.

“Thank you for coming and just,” I start before gesturing to his body with one hand. “Being you,” I finish before a hiccup roars through my chest.

Joel positions himself more comfortable on the floor so he’s sitting in front of me. “I mean it. Every word,” he emphasizes, pressing a quick kiss to my wet cheeks. I smile at him, grateful for his presence.

Toph paws at my chest, snuggling into my body. Like always, Katara becomes jealous of her sister's attention, and she comes slinking behind the couch up to Joel. She struts up his leg, plopping down in the middle of his lap and shutting her eyes.

“They’re fuckin’ somethin’ else,” Joel sneers, stroking Katar’s grey fur. I snicker in agreeance, setting Toph down in the sunlight on the floor in demonstration. Joel accepts the permission to remove my cat from his personal space, following suit carefully.

I glance at Joel’s face, admiring the constellation of freckles beneath a layer of dark circles. His hair is pushed back neatly with pomade and god, he looks edible. My heart quickens when I realize, I probably look a mess with makeup running down my face.

He catches me staring and he licks his lips before asking, “What do you want for lunch?”

My brain mentally catalogs all the groceries Joe’s bought and stocked in my fridge. He figured if he’s going to make every meal, he might as well have what he needs. He insists he’s content with us staying in our respective lanes. After all, he’s just as excited for the dessert surprise at the end of the meal as Ellie is.

Figuring I can’t be picky since I’m not cooking, I decide to let him choose. “Whatever you want. I’m going to go clean myself up and get changed,” I inform him, frowning at my appearance.

Joel seemingly notices my self-judgment and sits up, pulling my face closer with my hands. “I think you’re gorgeous, sugar,” he compliments before pressing a chaste kiss on my forehead.

My skin tingles from the warmth and I can't help but smile into the sign of affection. However, my insecurity doesn't drown, grabbing my hair and pulling me back from the gorgeous man I call mine. “You’re a liar, but it’s fine,” I murmur, using his shoulders to stabilize myself as I stand.

His strong arms wrap around my body holding me close. “I wudn’t lie to you,” he promises, and I nearly become weak in the knees from that accent.

I hum in reply, deciding it’s my turn to steal a kiss from him. I haven't tasted him in a couple days when I visited him and Ellie, and I’m starting to feel like I'm forgetting a piece of him. My body lowers until we’re at eye level, and the air between us zaps.

He never fails to make me feel this way. Thunder rumbles in my stomach and lightning strikes low in my abdomen. It’s confusing, but I welcome every second of it.

Joel becomes impatient with my hovering and he brushes our lips together. The kiss is sweet and I smile into it before parting my lips. He swirls his tongue around mine while cradling my body into his.

We continue for a few moments before I need to come up for air, and I disconnect immediately looking down at his reddened lips. I press one final peck to them before getting up, for real this time.

Joel pats me on the behind as I walk out of the room before he stands himself with a grunt. Toph trails behind me into my bathroom, brushing up against my leg with a purr as I look in the mirror.

My reflection makes me want to start crying again. My throat fills with ache as I try to stuff the oncoming tears out. Sometimes I feel like I’m the only unattractive person I know.

I push the thought out of my head and for my headband, securing my hair away from my face. After pumping face wash into my hand, I hum while massaging my face. The sticky layer of tear stains rinse down the drain and I feel a sense of relief.

Once my face is clean, I reach for my towel to dry it off when I feel something particularly fuzzy. I open my right eye, peering at the counter to see Toph's tail underneath my hand. “Fuck off, cat. No counters,” I scold my shadow, lifting and setting her on the floor with wet hands.

She wines as her paws hit the floor, and I grab a clean towel from the drawer. Why did I get two cats?

After patting my face dry and discarding the towels in the hamper, I walk out towards the kitchen. As I tip-toe down the hall, I can hear Joel shuffling about. When I round the corner, I lean against the wall with my arms crossed. It’s nice to admire him in moments like this, although he’s bound to look up towards my bathroom any minute.

As if the universe hit the play button on my vision, his eyes snap to mine. “Come,” he waves me over with a welcoming grin.

I stroll over behind him before I snake my arms around his waist. My front presses into his back and I catalog every flex of muscle in his body. His arm begins sliding with precision, perfectly cutting the potato in front of him into thin slices. “Fries?” I question out of curiosity.

“And a burger your way,” he glances over his shoulder at me before returning to his chopping.

I press myself up on my tiptoes, placing a kiss on his shoulder blade. This man is perfect for me in every way. Caring for me, cooking for me, and giving me countless orgasms. My relationship with Ellie is just the cherry on top. Even if Joel and I ended things, I’d still want to be in her life.

The realization hits me like a truck and without thinking I stammer, “God, I lo–” before cutting myself out.

My body chills to ice and the oxygen is sucked from my lungs in an instant. Joel pauses his movements and stands frozen in place. I take a step back from him, turning away from him.

I need to do something to distract him from the fact that I almost just said I love you.

I reach for the kettle to set some water on for tea, fumbling about with the top of the lid. “What’d’ya say, sugar?” Joel asks from behind me.

I shake my head, feeling the hole he’s staring in my head. If I confess right now, he might leave me like everyone does. He’ll call me a crazy person and forbid me to see Ellie.

Joel’s warm hand covers mine and I jerk, before peering down. I blink rapidly at the water spilling over the top of the filled pot. “Fuck,” I swear, turning off the water and dumping a bit out of the metal container.

I shake my hand dry before my eyes meet Joel. “You sure you okay?” Joel questions with furrowed brows.

I nod, putting the lid back on the kettle. It’s a mistake, him seeing me like this. All overwhelmed and in disarray. I obviously can’t even string together a cohesive thought.

My hands fiddle around with the stove, pressing buttons until the electric burners turn red. I set the kettle down on top, turning back to face Joel.

My face turns scarlet when I see he hasn’t moved. He has instead settled into a position with one hand resting on top of the counter and the other on his hip. “I won’t call you a liar. But whatever it is, ’m here when you’re ready,” he offers lowly.

And as if nothing happens, he moves back to preparing the potatoes. I finally exhale the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Thank god he’s not hell-bent on embarrassing me today.

Deciding to take the glorious out he’s presented me, I slide into the bar seat across from him, ready to watch my favorite pass time: Chef Joel Miller cooking in my kitchen. His brows furrow and his tongue sticks out of the side of his mouth when he’s intensely focused.

A lightbulb goes off in my head and I realize, I haven’t checked up on his Michelin Star journey. “Have 3 stars to your name yet?” I ask as he turns to fill a pot with water.

“Not quite. Heard rumors we’ve already got 2 visits though,” he explains and his voice bounces off the large window in front of him.

I nod and the corners of my mouth turn up. All I want is for those around me to succeed and he’s one step closer to his goal. “That’s great, that’s only one more left. It can’t be long now,” I chirp.

Joel leans on his left leg impatiently and I focus on his back. He inhales a long deep breath and I can tell he’s not as confident. “Yeah,” he grunts.

I brush a stray curl out of my face before observing, “You don’t sound so sure.”

He sighs before turning off the water. “I am. Thought about what you said that day and ’m worried my employee's customer service is being affected by my words, Gin.”

Fuck, he’s never called me Gin before. What I said must’ve been weighing on him. Shit, shit. Code red, Ginny. “Joel, it's fine. You’ve made the changes and the reviewers will see that,” I blabber out.

Joel carries the pot over to the stove. “I know, ’m just stressed and all,” he says while fiddling with the same buttons I was moments ago.

My body begins involuntary twisting and turning in the bar stool. Joel takes notice of the fact that I've used the tea water as a diversion, switching off the kettle as he goes. I snort and shake my head at how well he knows me.

“Wait until you actually get the stars,” I emphasize the horror of his future.

Joel picks out a pink towel from the drawer beneath his waist, quickly whipping his hands off. “Yeah, I’ll be busy as hell."

“And it’ll be nice to have Ellie back in the bakery more,” I add excitedly.

Joel sighs and shakes his head. “I’ll have to get her into an afterschool program of some kind,” he responds.

My brows knit on my forehead watching him begin to prep the burger patties. “Why?” I ask.

He sets a bottle of seasoning down with a thunk and I know he means business. His deep chestnut eyes connect with my hazel ones and I know I’m no longer talking to my sweet, timid, Joel. I’m interacting with Chef Miller. “Cause you shouldn’t have to be responsible for her,” he grits through his teeth.

My lips purse and I cross my arms, slightly offended that he’d suggest I can’t handle hanging out with Ellie. “I think I can manage,” I theorize.

“I’m serious, Gin,” he argues.

“So am I. Ellie is the closest thing I have to a daughter. We already–” lied to the principal and staff at her school about our relationship. “Erm, she’s already here until close. What’s a few extra hours?” I finish as smoothly as possible, but I’m not sure Joel is buying it by the look on his face.

He raises a brow and his head tilts ever so slightly. “Are you sure?” he asks and I roll my eyes. If he asks again, my answer may be different.

There’s no reason for Ellie to join an afterschool program when she’s already comfortable here. “Positive. You are my boyfriend, Miller,” I conclude, quite finished with this conversation when the aftertaste from my words hit. “Partner,” I correct myself, looking down shyly.

“I love it when you call me that” I hear him say, causing a chuckle to slip from my throat.

We sit in comfortable silence for the remainder of the time Joel spends cooking. He occasionally glances up at me while bustling around the kitchen. Every time we make eye contact, my skin sets ablaze and I have to look away.

It seems childish to look away when your partner catches you staring. But he’s so goddamn sexy, I can’t help it. If I don’t look away, my carnal desires will replace my grief, and I’m not ready for that.

I wonder if Joel ever felt extremely horny and inappropriately happy in his grief. There’s only one way to find out.

I clear my throat, rapidly blinking away the fuzz of my thoughts. “Joel,” I murmur to get his attention.

He looks up from the set of plates, giving me a half smile. “Hmm. You ready to eat, sugar?” he asks, probably assuming I’m rushing him for food.

I don’t move from my spot to not give him the wrong idea. “Yeah but uh,” I start, pausing to pick at my nail polish. “Can I ask you something?” I question softly.

Joel pops a French fry he dropped on the counter into his mouth. “Anythin',” he utters.

He slides my favorite meal over to me and I just about see stars. It takes everything I have in me to focus on the task at hand and not swallow the burger whole.

“How long did it take you to stop feeling guilty about being happy? You know, after…” I trail off, not wanting to bring up Sarah’s passing so bluntly.

His eyebrows raise and he leans back as if he was physically impacted by my words. Shock etches over his tan face and I immediately pick up a couple of french fries, awkwardly stuffing my mouth full. “Two years and Ellie was the first person I let in. Then you came along shortly after,” he confesses.

I quickly chew my food before gulping harshly. “Oh,” I murmur.

“Oh?” Joel counters with a tilt of his head.

I nod, picking up another fry. “Yeah, it’s not bad. It’s just that I don’t think I have two years,” I think out loud.

My eyes scan the counter for Joel’s signature barbeque sauce, anxious to dip try it with the crispy potatoes. “Be patient, sugar,” he scolds.

Joel seemingly notices my attention is elsewhere and suddenly, a tiny bowl of the brown condiment is set in front of me. I blush and give him a silent thank you with a half smile. “Never been too good at that,” I admit.

Picking up the burger, I examine it to see which side is the best for the first bite. “Oh I know,” I hear Joel say before our eyes connect. He tilts his head with a mischievous smirk on his face that sends fire into my cheeks.

I shake my head at him before taking a huge bite of the juicy burger. The flavors dance on my taste buds reminding me of summer barbeques. “Mmmm, this is orgasmic,” I compliment my sexy chef.

He swallows his bite before asking, “Changed the seasoning. Taste alright?”

I nod, already ready to inhale the entire meal. “Joel, I didn’t know your burgers could get better. This is amazing,” I express.

“Well, if my toughest critic says it’s good, I’ll trust it,” he jokes and I chuckle.

Delicious food, passionate sex, and god's gift to humanity. I am the luckiest woman on earth.

The door flies open sending my eyes flying open and me jerking into Joel’s stomach. He groans before smoothing my curls with his palm. “It’s just Ellie,” he informs me she’s back from school.

I sigh, cuddling further into his body now that my anxiety has eased. “Hey,” his teenage daughter grunts when she comes into view.

Ellie begrudgingly kicks her shoes off and drops her backpack to the side. If her body could talk, it would scream. “Bad day at school?” I observe.

She nods, picking up Toph who’s sitting in her spot on the couch. “Mmhm,” she grunts out just like her dad as she takes a seat.

“Well,” I start, tossing her the remote. “I’ll let you pick,” I offer her the once-in-a-lifetime chance.

She snickers, “No, you won’t.” She gives me a pointed look and asks, “What are my options?”

I purse my lips. She’s right, I’m just shitty she knows me so well. “Grey’s or SVU,” I answer.

Ellie nods, extending the remote in her hand to click through the app. Joel begins practically petting me again. “Sugar, you sure? Don’t wanna see you cryin’ no more,” Joel growls lowly as if seeing me cry and him not being able to control it pissed him off.

I can understand if he needs control over something, but today isn’t that day. “Positive,” I reassure him.

He nods, before placing his hand under my head and gently lifting it. “Sorry, sugar,” he grunts as he stands.

He turns towards the L-shaped couch with his hand on his hip, accentuating his slender waist and I practically start drooling. “What do you two want for dinner?” he questions, looking back and forth between us.

I prop my head up in my hand and look at Ellie who looks particularly glum. She’s curled into the couch, holding Toph like the animal is her lifeline. I sigh, feeling the urge to punch someone for hurting my baby creep into my veins again. “El, you can pick. I already had my favorite for lunch,” I urge her.

“Grilled cheese and tomato soup,” she requests, not even looking up at her father.

Joel clears his throat and raises his eyebrow. Ellie looks up and her eyes dart back and forth between me and Joel. I raise my eyebrow at her because she should know what he’s looking for.

It only takes Elle a few seconds when she gets it. “Please?” she adds, looking at Joel for confirmation.

He nods and walks off to the kitchen, away from earshot. I look over at Ellie whos depressed body language hasn’t changed. My hand pats the couch next to me. “Why are you so far away? We both know this is the best TV-watching spot,” I invite her over.

When she comes over, she’s usually right next to me giving me all the school gossip. But maybe it’s because Joel is here. She slides over, sinking into the cushion. “What’s up, El? You look all…” my voice trails off and I mimic her body language.

She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Dina,” she answers.

“Okay, what about Dina?” I ask. Fuck, teenagers are hard. I wish they’d just tell you the problem the easy way.

Ellie’s head snaps in my direction. “She has a crush,” she snips.

My eyebrows raise and I tilt my head. “And I’m guessing by your body language and your fucking tone, you’re not her crush,” I lightly correct her.

She looks behind me and I assume she’s checking to see if Joel is still making us food. “No,” she states and her entire body shrivels. The rejection washes over her face and I want nothing more than to hug her.

My respect for her boundaries overrides my need for comfort. “Who does she have a crush on?” I counter.

Ellie gnaws on her lip for a moment like she’s reluctant to tell me. I understand, after all, Dina is working downstairs for me right now. “Jesse,” she tells me.

I rapidly blink, stunned by the news. “Jesse, delivery boy, Jesse?”

Ellie nods and my mouth forms an ‘o’ in response. I nod, understanding the gravity of this queer love triangle. Her shoulder hunch over even more and I decide it’s time to cheer her up with some words of encouragement.

“You know when I was a teenager, I had a crush on a girl who was dating our guy friend,” I divulge some of my past. Although she doesn’t know it involves Madi and Leo, she doesn’t need to know that to get the point.

“Really?” Ellie asks dumbfounded.

I answer tight-lipped with a nod, “Mmmhm.”

“What happened?”

“I let it play out between the two of them. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be,” I tell her.

Ellie’s face scrunches and she looks weary of taking my advice. “Look, you don’t know if Dina likes you back right?”

Ellie shakes her head no. “Right, so don’t mess with the universe. If you’re meant to be, you’ll be. You never know, maybe a girl will come into the high school and shock the shit out of you,” I theorize.

Ellie rolls her eyes and scoffs, “I doubt that.”

“Keep your options open, El. Until you put a ring on someone’s finger,” I advise her. She’s a hot commodity and I’m going to tell her that every time she needs reminding.

Joel’s head comes into view as he bends down to press a kiss on top of Ellie’s head. She lets out a blech noise, shrugging as far away from him as possible.

I laugh at the interaction while Joel simply shakes his head. “Dinner’s ready,” he alerts us.

When I peer over my shoulder, I see a delicious spread laid out. As always, Joel has beautifully plated 2 servings of grilled cheese and tomato soup. “Ooh, that looks good,” Ellie compliments her dad, setting Toph down and shooting up from the couch.

She darts into the breakfast nook, diving for the sandwich first. Her head tips back and she groans with satisfaction. “Good?” I slightly shout from the couch.

She nods her head, already moving on to try the soup. Joel chuckles and extends his hand to me. He knows I typically climb over the back of the couch and ever since my foot got caught on the couch that one time, he’s insistent on helping me over.

“Thank you,” I purr lowly, leaning in to press a quick kiss on his lips.

When I lick my lips, I taste savory remnants of tomato from him tasting the soup. I blink rapidly at him stunned, feeling a similar wave of emotion as earlier. My butterflies erupt in my chest and my heart skips a beat, stumbling over the current.

Yup, that's definitely love.

I love Joel Miller and everything that comes with him. I love his deep raspy morning voice and the way his nostrils flare when he can’t quite get a recipe right. I love his southern twang and the furrow in his brows when he’s angry.

The type of love I feel for him possesses every fiber in my body and takes over my brain. It wraps around my nervous system, acting on its own. It takes away all control I have and I don’t mind at all.

I adore Ellie and consider her to be one of my daughters. We’ve become so close these past few months and I can’t imagine a day without them in my routine. They’re the only two people I can stand around me all the time.

Joel clears his throat, bringing me back to the present. Reality smacks me like a truck and I blush. “You alright there, sugar?” Joel questions, voice laced with concern.

The corners of my mouth curve into a smile. “Yeah, I genuinely don’t know what just happened. I look at you and my mind goes blank. I think I'm going nuts,” I chuckle, slightly lying.

When I look at him, my eyes turn into hearts and pop out of my head with my tongue rolled out like the red carpet. When our eyes connect, he makes me feel like I’m the only person he’s ever been interested in romantically. Which can’t be possible considering Sarah came from somewhere.

We join Ellie and the kittens playing by her feet at the breakfast nook and a comfortable silence falls over the table. My mother always said you know the food is good when it’s silent, and we’re not much for dinner conversations around here.

Joel reaches forward and pours me a glass of wine before pouring himself some. “Guess you two are staying the night?” I ask, pointing out that whenever Joel drinks with me, they usually end up crashing.

Joel raises his eyebrows as if he’s daring me to contest, taking a sip of his wine. “If that’s okay with you?” he questions, probably trying to hide the fact that he’s not going to leave me alone tonight.

I pick up my spoon, dipping it into the soup. “It is, but I was thinking I’d come to yours tonight. El has school in the morning,” I attempt to compromise.

Ellie rolls her eyes and groans, “That sucks, my bed here is more comfortable.”

Joel begins prepping to eat and I’ve never seen someone be so meticulous about such a thing. He lays a cloth napkin into his nap and I raise my eyebrow, wondering what hell of a closet he dug those out of.

“It’s not your bed, Ellie. We don’t live here,” Joel corrects her and I shovel the soup in my mouth. It’s the perfect amount of savory and sweet.

Joel picks up the sandwich and takes a bite, nodding at the taste. While his mouth is full, I decide to insert a suggestion, “No, but El, next time you’re here, you should bring some clothes just in case. That way you don’t have to wear my clothes whenever you want to stay over.”

Ellie responds without skipping a beat, “Sounds good.”

I turn my attention back to my meal and my mind mentally drifts off. Christmas is soon so maybe I can tell him then. I don’t want to trauma bond with him right now and Christmas is a happy time. “I cleared a drawer out for you already,” Joel announces and I nearly choke on my sandwich.

“You what?” I blurt, my mind swirling with information.

In my peripheral, I see Ellie’s head going back and forth between me and Joel. “That too much? I’ll fill it back up. ‘s just some of my long sleeves,” he stammers.

“No!” I shout a bit too loudly, my body becoming hot when I realize the gravity of my tone. “I mean no, the drawer isn’t too much. I think it’d be too much if I moved in right now,” I add.

Joel nods, content with my answer, returning to his meal. “When you two move in together, can we move here?” Ellie asks, refusing to read the weight of awkwardness in the room.

Joel clears his throat and he straightens his posture a bit. Sensing his uncomfortability, I step in to talk for the both of us, “We haven’t talked about that yet, El. But when it comes to it, I’d be happy to have you here.”

“Yay!” Ellie celebrates and I take a bite of my grilled cheese. It has the perfect amount of pull and my eyes are probably sparkling with admiration for Joel at the moment.

I chew and swallow before adding, “We’ll have to move eventually though. We need a house that we’ve all picked.” I would never sign a dotted line on a new place without Ellie and Joel’s approval at this stage in our relationship. I think we’ll be together for a long time, so I want to be considerate.

Ellie perks up again, “Really?”

I nod, glancing at Joel who has completely stopped eating at this point. “Mmhm, by then you’ll be 18 and you can have this place,” I continue my conversation with Ellie, knowing he’ll holler at any time he feels I’m overstepping.

Joel’s jaw clenches as I fight a snort, assuming he’s started stewing. “The bakery?” she asks, voice laced with confusion.

I set my spoon down and give her a knowing look. “No, El. Do you like baking?” I quip.

She shrugs, dipping her sandwich into her bowl. “Eh, it’s not my calling,” she admits before taking a bite.

“Exactly. I was talking about the apartment. You can have it when we eventually move out,” I foretell, motioning between me and her father with my hand.

“Gin,” Joel pulls my attention to him. When I glance down, his hands are balled tight into a fist, one wrapped tightly around a stainless stem spoon.

If he squeezes any more, he’ll bend my cuterly. And it’s completely unnecessary. “Joel, I’m not letting your child pay $1,000 in rent when we’ll have at least one empty apartment that’s completely paid off. Try again,” I dare him to argue.

Joel sighs but his body stays wound up. “She’s gonna be spoiled.”

I whip my head in Ellie's direction. “I don’t think you’re spoiled, are you, El?”

“Not in the slightest,” Ellie says through a shit-eating grin.

My head whips back toward Joel who isn’t the slightest bit amused by our display. “See, she gets the apartment, we get a new house,” I pause waiting for his face to change. When it remains stone cold, I add my secret tactic by purring, “alone,” into his ear.

When I straighten my back, his eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his head. Anticipation flickers in his eyes and I know I’ve hooked him to the idea.

Joel’s body slowly starts to relax, but Ellie puts the cherry on top. “And everyone’s happy. Maybe Dina would move in with me. Holy shit this is gonna be awesome,” she practically bounces, and the wood beneath her creaks.

“Slow your roll, kiddo. You’ve still got 4 years,” Joel warns and I kick him lightly under the table for taking the excitement out of everything. I want her to keep a hopeful possibility of romance with Dina and he’s ruining it.

Ellie opens her mouth but I step in before the pair can start arguing. “Speaking of totally awesome, what do you want for Christmas, El?”

“I’m getting something for Christmas?” asks dumbfoundedly.

“Umm, yeah. Why wouldn’t you be?”

Ellie shrugs and a rain cloud of trauma drifts in over her head. I watch as the sorrow rain falls on top of her head and my heart drops to my ass. “I don’t know. Guess I’m just not used to it.”

I bite my lip, trying to keep it together for her. No child should have to go a December without a gift. I try my best to plaster on a fake smile to perk her up. “Well, I already have most of your gifts but I thought I’d ask you,” I tell her.

As if on command, the cloud of depressing memories is swapped for a blazing sun. “Really?” she gleans.

“Really. I love Christmas. It’s the busiest holiday for the bakery though.” I mentally curse the upcoming bustle, taking a sip of my wine.

Ellie chomps the last of her sandwich down, chewing slowly like she’s in deep thought. A sparkle comes over her eyes when it looks like she’s finally got it. “Well, some new paintbrush sets would be nice. I saw some watercolors on Instagram that are cool,” she hints.

“Send them to me,” I request.

“Okay,” she smiles, reaching into her back pocket to pull out her phone.

I smile at my hunky boyfriend, ready to point out the receipts of Ellie’s personality traits. “See, Joel. That is not a spoiled child. Madi would’ve asked for a Gucci bag and a stamp on her passport when we were younger.”

Ellie’s head perks up from her phone. “Wait, that’s an option?” she clarifies sarcastically.

“No,” Joel barks at the same time as I offer, “Ask Madi.”

Joel frowns in my direction and I quickly add, “We don’t have that type of money but Madi does and she’s always ready to spend it on someone. If you want something really expensive, she’s the one to ask.”

Joel's elbows come down on the table quite hard and he puts his head in his hands. “Gin,” he groans.

“What? Madi’s like her aunt or whatever now. She’s obligated by girl code to help her out,” I inform him, picking up my spoon. At this point, the utensil is useless. The food’s so good, I’m ready to drink the rest of the bowl down.

“Spoilin’ her ain’t helpin’,” he scolds me.

I blow the steaming liquid in front of my face. “No, but Ellie knows the value of money to know the difference between dinner at the estate versus dinner at the breakfast nook,” I say before taking a bite.

“Yeah, this sucks,” Ellie sarcastically grumbles, before picking up the soup and slurping the last bit of it.

I snicker, dipping the last of my sandwich into the soup. I never thought I could be this content after my parents passed but here I am, enjoying the anniversary of their death with my two favorite people.

I peer under the table at the sleeping cats and smile. I need to focus on the two people that I have a future with and a life with, not the two who are long gone. It’s what my mother would want for me, anyway. The girl that hooked me onto the man that I love. Fuck. I’ve got to find a better time to tell him.

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twitterpated-passion · 2 years

Text

Matched | Monster Boyfriend

You liked to say that you had a normal life. It wasn't interesting, but it wasn't bland. You got through school with minimal mishaps, you had a job and you were thinking of getting your masters. And despite some obvious 'gifted kid' burnout symptoms pulling at you every now and again, you liked the life you lived. Most of the time, at least.

Now?

Now you couldn't say your life was normal even if you were being held at gun point.

-<><><><><><><>-

It all started with that stupid 'volunteer' start up group that suddenly came into play and forced a handful of people from selected cities to sign up. You were one of the (un)lucky few that got chosen, given only a day to pack before they picked you up in front of your apartment building and drove you out of the city.

Only the worst thoughts creeped in your head, telling you that you should've ran the moment you were chosen. It was only natural to feel that way, not a single person told you what the start up group was for and every time you tried to ask you were greeted with silence or a small 'Don't worry about it' from the driver.

You did, in fact, worry about it. You worried about it until someone finally let you know what was happening.

The person who let you know was the first person you saw when you walked into the building, a greeter of sorts in an oversized lab coat with their glasses on the tip of their nose. They perked up when they saw you and quickly pulled you away from the driver to lead you down a hall. "Welcome! You're right on time!"

"No one else chosen came with me though," you said. "And no one was in the entrance."

The person laughed, nodding. "Mhm! That's because it's your time. Others have come and gone before you, and they'll come after you. It's just not their scheduled time."

You shot them a confused look, which they didn't notice, waving their hands in the air to motion to everything. "I'm sure you heard already about what you're doing right?"

"No," you shook your head. "I was told not to worry about it. What am I doing?"

Their jaw slacked as they looked at you with a shocked expression. "Jeez...someone's getting fired."

They shook their head and shoved their hands in their coat pockets. "Anyway- what you signed up for is a very important start up group. I'm sure you're aware of the treaty made with King Ralin? Right?"

"Somewhat? It trended for a week and then disappeared off of the face of the Earth." They nodded. "What about it?"

"Well, in every country, a group of individuals are picked out for the group. The numbers vary on size, but that's not the point. Given that you were chosen, you get to go in your own little pod and rocket up into space, right on their planet. We're trying to ease human and alien relations smoothly, and if this goes well, we're hoping that King Ralin will send some of his people down here!" The scientist seemed so excited while explaining this to you, and a frown appeared on their face as they tilted their head at you. "What? Is something wrong?"

"You want me to be a test subject," you said. "I'm supposed to squeeze my ass into a pod and rocket up into space just to act buddy-buddy with aliens who probably aren't used to humans and might just hate my guts?"

"When you put it like that," they pouted, looking away from you. "It won't be as bad as you think. We've already established that no harm is going to come to the start up group or the aliens. So even if they hate you, they can't hurt you."

"What about the need for oxygen?"

"You ask that like aliens don't also breathe air. Your safety is already confirmed. You have nothing to worry about."

You weren't too sure you believed them.

-<><><><><><><>-

It's been exactly two months and five days since you went in that pod and arrived on planet 'Actae'. How you pronounce that in their language was unbeknownst to you, so you've just been calling it planet 'A' in your mind or whenever you needed to talk to another human about the planet.

It wasn't bad, you were able to admit that. Most of the aliens you met seemed to be more than happy to see humans for the first time, and you were able to quickly make friends with two of them, though, they worked with you in the Capital's library, so it mainly came with constantly seeing each other.

And that's where you were when you met him.

Prince Fonir, a cocky son of a bitch who loved to do nothing but tease you relentlessly every time he decided to 'grace' you with his presence. Though, all he did was make you regret choosing the library job no matter how much it suited you.

And unfortunately, today wasn't the day that he stayed home at the castle. Instead, he was mindlessly browsing through the fiction section, looking at the mixture of books that came from both Earth and Actae.

Even if he did, in fact, infuriate you, you couldn't help but stare, eyes glued to the graceful movements of his hands, to the way his long, baby pink hair would cover his face when he dipped his head down ever so slightly to get a better look at the book. You didn't realize how bad it was until you realized that the big pools of galaxies that were his eyes were looking at you as well, a cocky grin on his face, as he tucked the book under his long arm and sauntered over.

You busied yourself, a huff leaving your lips as his light olive green hands placed the book down. "You know, it's rather rude to stare, especially at royalty."

You rolled your eyes, glancing over at the book and using your pointer finger to pull it towards yourself. You lifted the small scanner and pressed it to the book, hearing the high-pitched beep before pushing it back to him and answering, "Really? I wouldn't know, but I don't exactly care either. Isn't being stared at the job of royalty?"

You met his eyes bravely, eyebrow raised. "Which brings me to ask; don't you have anything better to do? You come here twice a week and do nothing but try to stir something. Don't you have your own library, your highness?"

"I do," he admitted. "But my library doesn't have a Jarïle for a librarian."

Your brows furrowed trying to figure out what he had just called you in his language, but nothing clicked, and you breathed a huff through your nose. Forcing yourself not to rub the bridge of your nose to try and ease a little of your annoyance out, you clicked your tongue and took one look at the screen-less computer in front of you. "Next month on the second. Bring in the book then or before. I'm not afraid of charging a prince a late fee."

He loomed over the computer and met your eyes once more before tucking the book under his arm again and turning on his heel, walking towards the front doors. You watched him leave, happy this encounter was shorter than the rest and that you could return to your own book faster.

But what he called you was still repeating in your mind, you doubt you could pronounce it correctly without five hundred tries, but when Jorik came out of the back room, you quickly approached her. "Jorik! I need your help."

She tilted her head, pushing her braid behind her with a small chuckle. "What do you need help with?"

You opened your mouth, but closed it quickly, contemplating on actually asking, and if she'll even know what you mean, considering how much you're probably going to botch the word. But, you ask her anyway. "What's a...jarile...?"

Her smile faltered as a confused expression overtook her face, her pale blue eyes narrowing slightly before she asked, "Do you mean jarïle?"

"Yea," you confirmed, hand moving to bashfully scratch the back of your neck. "What does it mean?"

"It means fire starter," she answered. "Where'd you hear that?"

"The Prince was in...again." You didn't hide the annoyance that bubbled in your tone suddenly, Jorik already well introduced to your dislike to the royal. She looked around however, smile faltering until you wave your hand in front of her face. "He left, don't worry."

She shook her head and focused her gaze back on you, raising an eyebrow. "What about Prince Fonir?"

"He was the one that called me it," you said, a small scoff coming out when you were done. "The hell is his issue with me anyway? I'm just trying to get through the day, just like everyone else."

"Korlae." You shut up at the nickname. It meant honey, but Jorik liked how it sounded in her language more. You couldn't blame her. "Jarïle is an affectionate term."

You blinked, pulling your head back slightly. "What?"

Jorik let out a soft laugh, the sound slightly echoing in the quiet space. With a nod, she walked herself over to the stool, sitting on it to lower herself to be eye to eye with you. "You've never called someone you like a fire starter? Trouble?"

"You act like I've had a partner," you said, sitting in the stool beside hers, lifting it up just a bit. "Don't you guys have matchmakers though?"

She was quiet for a moment, brows furrowed before they lift and hide behind her bangs when she realized. "Oh! K-Kinda? They find our soulmate. I don't know how they do it, but it's a day of celebration for us. It only happens once, when we turn twenty-three in human years."

She smiled fondly. "I only have a few months until it's my turn. Soran has a year for his. And Prince Fonir's is in a week, it's going to be huge. Everyone wants to know who the lucky Horæl is."

"Remind me what that means?" You knew she knew what you meant, and she chuckled at your lack of an attempt at saying it.

"It's basically our equivalent of 'alien'. Like how humans call other humans...humans." Another chuckle left her. "Anyway, they're going to play it all over the planet, since, Prince Fonir is going to take the crown when he's twenty-five. It's important to know who'll rule beside him."

"Yea..." You said, voice drifting off when you're reminded of the similarities for the royals back on Earth and on Actae. "I get it."

"Good, because I'm gonna invite both you and Soran over to watch it with me. I don't think I'll be able to watch it alone." You smiled at how excited she seemed over it, pushing back how annoyed he made you to grab her hand with a nod.

"'Course, I wouldn't miss it for the world, Jorik."

-<><><><><><><>-

The library -like other places- was closed on Prince Fonir's birthday, so instead of having to work and going with Jorik and Soran to Jorik's apartment, you were able to go straight to it. Fortunately for you, she lived fifteen minutes away from your apartment, just a couple blocks down.

You were hardly able to knock before the door swung open and Jorik loomed over you with an excited grin spread across her face. "You made it just in time, it's about to start!"

She yanked you inside and shut the door behind her, ushering you towards the large couch that sat in the living room area of her loft. "You can sit beside Soran."

With a nod, you do, waving over to Soran as he smiled at you and lifted his hands to sign, 'She's pretty excited.'

You chuckled, nodding in response before glancing over at the Horæl who's happily tapping her foot against the floor, the sound creating an unrhythmic melody. "Is it because of the Prince or because she really likes this ceremony?"

You looked back at him, eyes focused on his hands when he responded, 'Both.'

"Ah," is all you were able to say back before the 'be right back' sign on the holographic tv screen switched to show the castle, the crowd around it immense, everyone -humans and Horæls alike- wanting to see who was paired with Fonir .

It switched to inside the castle, showing a gaggle of nobles standing in the throne room. None of them paid the camera that was practically in their faces any mind, all of them chatting amongst each other, or keeping to themselves. There was no noise of it though, only a narrator explaining the importance of the ceremony.

Everything seemed to quiet down though when King Ralin stepped out, his usual event outfit on, just without the cloak he carried on his shoulders. Then, when he stepped out of the way, Prince Fonir came out from the same doorway.

All you could do was stare as the camera focused on him, following his every move as his hands picked at his outfit, the usual monotoned colors he wore exchanged for bright, flashy colors. Purple, pink and gold.

His hair was let down and the two braids pulled to the back of his head kept his hair from his face, since the crown he was wearing wouldn't have helped. Pink touched his cheeks and ears, and his eyes were trained on the ground.

He was nervous.

A light nudge to your foot pulled you out of you thoughts, and you snapped your head away from the tv, looking at Jorik. "For someone who hates him, you seem to like staring at him. Your cheeks are red, Korlae."

Your heart skipped a beat and you shook your head, letting out a small scoff. "I was just seeing how nervous he is."

It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't all that you saw.

She merely gave you a once over and turned back to the tv, letting you do the same. You were greeted with Fonir standing in front of his father's throne, fists against his sides as the nobles stepped to the side, giving both him and King Ralin space to get the ceremony going.

Two other Horæls came out of the doorway opposite to the one the Prince and King came out of, but they were dressed just as flashy, and if Jorik's excited little noise was anything to go by, you would've assumed that they were officials. They looked older than both King Ralin and Fonir, which amazed you, since King Ralin was definitely older than he looked.

One bowed their head to Fonir before he lifted his arms and allowed them to push up his sleeves, baring his forearms to the other official. The other one produced something like a pen, but when the camera focused on what the official was doing with said pen-like tool, you watched it shallowly cut his wrist three times, though no blood surfaces.

You turn to Soran with a confused expression and lucky enough, he seems to catch it, hands moving fast as he explained, 'The knife takes the blood and they put it in a pen that creates an eternal symbol.'

"...Oh," you said, eyebrows raising slightly as you turned back to the tv. The unrhythmic tapping returned as the three of you watched as Fonir's bright blue blood falls into a pen, the process looking extremely drawn out until it's filled completely.

Fonir's eyes are closed tightly, and you remember the dramatic endeavor you went through when he accidentally got a papercut one day at the library. To say he was good with pain would be a complete lie.

You wanna do the same as him however, when you finally realize how interested you are in knowing who the Horæl'll be. You shouldn't even care, if anything you could be a little happy, it'd get him out of the library more often than not. But you did, even if you weren't sure why.

The symbol basically drew itself on his wrist, covering the already healing cuts and forming something odd, a mandala looking symbol that you couldn't get a good look of, but yet you still glanced over at Jorik because you were in serious need of an explanation. But when she looked at you and Soran, you were met with the same confused look.

"You never actually told me how they found the soulmate, Jorik..." You said, but as she opened her mouth to answer, you heard a gasp from a certain Prince.

You couldn't move your head faster to face the screen, eyes focused on what's in front of you as you, Jorik and Soran watched him look at the symbol with wide eyes. There were whispers in the background in the castle, and the camera stayed where it was when Fonir leaned to his father to whisper something to him.

You saw King Ralin's eyes widen, just like Fonir's was seconds ago. Then you heard one of the official's speak, their voice loud and commanding when they announced, "The symbol belongs to a human."

The air around you seemed to stop as Jorik's tapping silenced and a throaty noise left Soran.

Prince Fonir was paired with the impossible.

-<><><><><><><>-

Every human that was sent to Actae, two hundred to be exact, were ordered to go to the castle the moment the cameras shut off, said order being sent specifically to your phone, rather than everyone's. A shaky breath left you when you read the message over and over.

"So..." Jorik started after a while, "you have a chance-"

"I'm not going to think about that," you cut her off. "I'm just gonna go to the castle and then I'm gonna watch it happen with one of the others."

You stood, shoving your phone into your pocket before walking to the door. "Maybe it's a misunderstanding. Maybe, and here's a thought, Fonir doesn't have a match."

A sigh breached your lips and you opened the door, looking back as you stepped out. "I call you when I find out."

Jorik nodded and Soran gave you a small smile, which you returned before walking out fully and shutting the door behind you.

You walked the distance to the castle, ignoring the looks you got as you were walking. They weren't bad per-se, but you could tell some of them didn't really like the possibility of a human ruling over them.

Not that you blamed them. It's only been three months since the first humans came to Actae, it's already a big change, and to know that one of them is going to rule with the Prince when he turns twenty-five is an even bigger change.

The stares only got worse when you arrived at the castle, your hands holding your arms as you walked in and avoided the looks of the maids that walked through the halls. The only one that didn't stare was the one leading to the throne room, explaining what to do when you walked in. "Stand straight and look them in the eyes when they talk to you, use your right hand to shake theirs and nod your head to bow. Speak when spoken to and when they let you all go, you can return to your home. But only when they allow you to leave."

She turned to you and waited for you to nod in understanding before she pushed the door open. You straightened your posture and walked in, fingers digging into your arm as you saw the other humans, all of them off to the side. You made haste joining them.

When you decided to look at anything other than your peers, you gazed over to the throne and met Fonir's eyes, and for once, you felt something other than annoyance when you saw the small smile on his face. He looked almost relieved to see you, his left hand holding his right wrist, as if he was hiding it.

You looked to your sides, and then back at him when you decided to do the one thing you know you'll just deny when it was brought up later. You lifted your hand from your arm and gave him a small wave. He did the same after a quick glance towards his father, confirming that he was still talking to the officials.

It didn't take long for the others to show up, no one really wanting to make the King to the new planet they're living on upset. It made you feel a little better when you noticed that everyone else was nervous, or at least happy you weren't the only one that looked like they might about cave in on themselves.

Fonir stood behind his father when it was made known that you were all there, and they stood in the middle of the room, the Prince's eyes trained on the ground again. You stared at the King and forced your shoulders back, listening to him when he started to speak, "I'm certain you all know why you're here, one of you happens to be my son's match."

'Getting straight to the point...thank god," you thought, appreciating King Ralin not beating around the bush.

"I thought this would be a simple process, considering no one else had been paired with a human before the 'start-up', but, as it turns out, not everything can be as simple as you want it." There was a small laugh that left his lips and he clasped his hands together. "And because I would hate keeping everyone here for hours, anyone who volunteers and is not the match, can leave as soon as it's confirmed. If we find the match before everyone gets a chance, everyone but the match can leave immediately."

Fonir glanced up and took one large swoop of the crowd, then his eyes fell back onto you. You felt his stare, but it quickly turned away from you when the first volunteer happened to walk up to him, bowing.

You didn't want to look, but yet, you did. You watched as the first five got rejected, you watched as one took longer than the others only to fail and you watched as Fonir got impatient.

His eyes met yours again, and the silent look of pleading on his face made you go after the fifteenth person, raising your hand slowly and silently. You only walked up to him when the King nodded and you nodded your head at Fonir, finally getting a good look at the symbol.

It was a mandala alright, but, the longer you looked at it, the more familiar it got. You lifted your hand from its position on your arm and traced it, stopping only when you felt a searing pain in your left wrist. You hissed and stepped back, tearing your hand away from him before grasping your wrist, pressing against your wrist.

Fonir's eyes were wide as he watched you, your face contorted in pain as you tightly held your wrist, the pressure easing it just a little. "Jarïle," you heard him start through deafened ears, "...move your hand."

You could hardly hear the whispers that came after Fonir spoke, and all you could feel was the burning in your wrist until you saw a green hand slowly clasp over yours. You leaned into the cool touch letting him pull your hand away, only to reveal the same symbol that was on his wrist. Though, instead of it being drawn, it was burned into your skin, like it was made with a branding iron.

King Ralin was at Fonir's side in no time at all, pale white eyes looking back and forth between your marks. "...That's never happened before."

"Being matched with a human hasn't happened either, Fonir," his father pointed out. "I suppose you found your match."

The collective whispers seemed to quiet down immediately when it was announced and the next thing you knew was that King Ralin was wishing everyone but you a farewell and to 'have a safe trip home'. Then the throne room's doors were shut and you were left alone with the two.

Silence blanketed over the three of you and you pulled your hand away from Fonir, eyes falling to the floor as you heard echoed footsteps and then Ralin's voice, "So, I assume you two have already met."

You nodded, but Fonir talked before you could, "They work at the Capital's library, father."

You lifted your head slightly, only to see the King's eyes as he looked at you, a small smile on his face. You pulled your left arm behind your back to nod at him slightly, the burning feeling in your arm slowly dispersing with each moment. His smile widened and his short, neon pink hair tipped to the side when he tilted his head. "Are you sure jarïle is the right nickname for them, Fonir?"

You felt Fonir's eyes on you again, and you met his eyes. "I think it suits them a lot."

Everything you had on your tongue died when you saw him look at you, and you hated how you were anything but annoyed at it. You didn't like the butterflies that formed in your stomach when he gave you a small smile and winked. And you didn't like how you knew that his teasing would just come back tenfold because of this.

"It's just going to get worse," you finally responded after a long moment, and his smile widened at it.

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Jarïle." The King laughed and rested a hand on Fonir's shoulder. You appreciated the genuine happiness from Ralin. It was a change from Earth's leaders. Though, he was actually doing a good job.

"I'll leave you two to discuss. We'll all talk at dinner tonight about what the future holds for the both of you. Alright?" You glanced up at him, noticing the 'alright' was more for you, than Fonir. You nodded after a small pause, giving him a slight smile. "Great. I'll see you two later."

Fonir gave his father a small wave before his hand was back on yours and he slowly pulled you to the throne. "So, this is..."

He didn't continue, so you did for him. "Tragic? Dreadful? Terrible? Horrible? Am I getting warmer?"

"Ice cold," he responded simply. "It's something."

"What's something supposed to mean?"

"It's something to get used to." His hand let go of yours and moved back so he could sit on the edge of the throne. "I didn't know being matched to me was that bad for you, Jarïle."

He was teasing you. You could hear it in his voice.

You wanted to bite back, but all you responded with was, "I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

"How? By simply saying something that you could've very well been thinking? Don't tell me you expected to be matched with me, much less a human."

"I wasn't," He confirmed. "But that's because it hasn't happened. I'm more than happy to be the first of something."

You bit the inside of your cheek, thumb running along the mark on your wrist, pressing down every so slightly to test if it still hurt. "How's this gonna work?"

"What?"

"Us. Am I gonna have to quit my job and just...sit idle until you take the throne? Are we just going to play nice in front of camera and the moment it turns off things just go back to normal?" He gave you a look, eyebrow cocked in confusion.

"And what's 'back to normal'?"

"You having an issue with me," You said, exasperated, knowing for a fact that it was obvious. "Ever since I came here, you've done nothing but try to stir stuff by teasing the living fuck out of me. Then you go ahead and decide to call me an affectionate term like we're friends and- and if you even thought that was ok, I would assume you'd be friend-"

He cut you off, covering your mouth with his hand. "That was me being friendly. You seriously thought I had an issue with you?"

You froze in your spot, not fighting him when he pulled you between his legs. "You're the first person that's treated me normally, even going as far as to threaten me with late fees. Jarïle, you're possibly the only human I'd feel completely comfortable being matched with. Everyone else treats me like I'm...like-...well never mind the word for it. You're not afraid to be you in front of me."

You tasted iron after biting down on the inside of your cheek harshly, but the pain of it didn't even process, your mind only trying to go through everything he said. "...Do you mean they treat you like china?"

"Is that all you got out of that?" He groaned. "Yes, I meant that, but c'mon, that can't be the only thing you have to say about what I said."

"It's not," you confessed. "I'm just...having a hard time understanding how I got how you felt about me so wrong. I'm usually good at reading people."

"Humans," Fonir corrected. "You're good at reading humans."

You felt like a child being scolded with how he was looking at you, for the tone that took hold every time he talked. But despite that, you still had at least some gall to ask, "...Would you be more comfortable if you got matched with a Horæl? You only mentioned human when you said that."

The braids that pushed his hair back earlier were doing nothing at that moment, framing his face as his crown was nowhere to be seen, but he still had the touch of nervousness he had earlier, and you wondered why he was the one nervous. "I didn't think they needed to be included."

"So you would be?"

"You like assuming things, don't you," he asked, and the slight smile that appeared on his face relaxed you ever-so-slightly. "Horæls also treat me like china, Jarïle. Even more than humans."

You nodded, eyes drifting from him before his hand grasped your chin and brought you back to him. "We have two years until I come of age to take the throne. Does that seem like enough time for you?"

"Do I have to quit my job?" Fonir chuckled in response.

"I don't see why you have to. Maybe when we start ruling, but you're free to do whatever you like." We. The word had your thoughts racing and freezing all at the same time. He wanted to do it with you, even after you actively disliking him, even when you thought he disliked you too.

He must've noticed the zoned out look on your face because he waved his free hand in front of it and tilted his head. "What's on your mind, Jarïle?"

"You said we when you were talking about ruling," you answered, voice quiet. "I thought you were the most irritating person alive and here you are...being overly nice to me."

"Well, considering that my teasing didn't do anything to make me seem nice, I might as well try a new approach," he joked. "And we're a match. Why wouldn't I say we?"

"I wouldn't expect you to want to rule with me," you said bluntly, though your voice was still just as quiet. "I've only been here for like...two and a half months and suddenly in two years I'm gonna rule? No one is going to like that."

"I like it," Fonir admits. "You can learn a lot in two years and...believe me when I say it, you're going to learn a lot if my father has any say."

"And here I thought, King Ralin was nice," you jested, allowing an unsure smile to grace your lips. It only got bigger when you saw him laugh, the sound ringing in your ears like a melody.

"My father is nice, but when it comes to the kingdom...he's pretty strict. We're going to be going through the same things, trust me."

You didn't think before your hand grabbed his, giving the slender thing a small squeeze. "I do."

The smile Fonir gave you when you said that sent your heart to the stars, and another laugh left him. "You spend two months hating my guts and here you are, saying you trust me."

"I found your smug expression and teasing annoying...I never hated your guts though."

He hums, a pleased expression on his face. "I guess today we're both learning something. Neither of us hate each other."

You nodded. "I guess we don't."

His hand squeezed yours as the other hand stayed on your chin, thumb right below your bottom lip even though you knew he could very well touch it if he wanted to. His touch was just as cool as earlier, which you appreciated given the lingering burning feeling in your arm and in your face, even if it was mainly in your cheeks.

Though, right as the moment had started, it ended just as fast, your phone ringing loudly from your back pocket. A groan flew from your lips as Fonir pulled his hands away, your hand making it to the phone that resided in your pants before seeing the contact picture, eyes widening when you see Jorik's face. "Shit, I forgot to call her."

"What? Forgot to call who?" You didn't answer him, simply answering the phone before bringing it to your ear.

"Hey," you said, carrying the 'y' for a few seconds.

"Out of two hundred humans, you happened to be the one that was his match." You winced at her words.

"...Word really carries around fast."

"Of course it does! You're the Prince's Jarïle! Not only did he know you before the meeting, he called you a pet name! Korlae, you're big now."

A breath left you, and you nodded, though you knew full well she couldn't see you. "Yea, I'm aware of that. Look, I was in the middle of something before you called..."

"Yea? Like what?" You met Fonir's eyes and used your pointer finger to tap your phone and then point to him, a silent question of if he wanted to take it.

When he caught on, a mischievous grin grew on his face and he nodded, letting you hand him your phone as he pulled it to his ear. He seemed to listen to Jorik for a long, drawn out moment before glancing at you. The both of you shrug at each other, though his was in response of you doing it to him.

"Hello?" Fonir said, unsure if doing so was even ok, but when you heard the faint talking stop, you let out a snort. He took it as a sign to keep going however, "I'm the something they were in the middle of...Jorik, right?"

You watched Fonir's eyes widen as he pressed his lips together and pulled back your phone, shoulders shaking with silenced laughter. "Did she..."

You drifted off, but the second you saw him nod you barked out a laugh, hand covering your mouth as you tried to muffle the sound. "Your friend just hung up on me."

Your hand dropped and you tipped your head forward, nodding as you cackled. "I've had people who were afraid to talk to me, but- but they hung up on me!"

With another nod, you knew that you weren't going to let Jorik forget what she did any time soon, especially when you heard your phone ring again.

-<><><><><><><>-

You sat at a table in the Capital's library, eyes focused on an Actaean history book as your tutor -who Ralin was very happy to give you- piled more books onto your already gigantic stack, sitting across from you. You refused to glance up at her, already knowing that there was going to be a smug smile on her face.

She wasn't mean, not in the slightest, but she was good at making you feel bad about knowing almost nothing about the planet and its history, which in turn made you feel stressed about ruling and that made you feel bad that Fonir got matched with someone so...stupid. And almost as if he knew you were thinking poorly of yourself, he came in, fast food bag in his long, slender hand. Your first-in-line.

That was the moment you glanced up, a relieved look overtaking your face as he glanced at the books, then over to you with a small smile. "Uiloi, you're working them to the bone. I cannot rule with a skeleton."

"There's only a year and a half left before you turn twenty-five, your highness."

"And in that time, and even after it, they can learn the boring history of this planet. Go take a break, get a drink from the shop down the street." It sounded like a suggestion, but his tone made it apparent that it wasn't, and so Uiloi was quick in standing and leaving the library.

Fonir set the bag down, pushing it in front of you before he moved the stack of books to the far side of the table, sitting in the seat next to you. You shot him a thankful smile and pushed your book aside. "Thanks..."

"You can tell her to stop, Jarïle, she's supposed to listen to you."

"I'd feel bad," you admitted. "...It doesn't seem like it's my place to order anyone around, much less the people that actually come from here."

Fonir pouted, hand grasping your chin gently before he leaned down just enough to leave a chaste kiss on your nose. "That'll pass when you get used to it all, it's only been six months, Jarïle."

"What if it doesn't pass?"

"Then I guess I'll have to be right beside you to reassure you that it's ok," he answered, acting like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Out of everyone on my planet and yours, I'm extremely lucky for it to be you that I'm matched with."

"We met eight-" He cut you off, finger against your lips.

"Does it really matter how long it's been?" You wanted to argue, say that it does, but when you saw his expression and the soft look in his eyes, you knew you couldn't. Because it really didn't matter. Not to you at least.

After a begrudging huff, you shook your head, watching as the smile on his face grew and letting him leave another quick kiss, this time on your temple. "You wouldn't have won that argument even if you tried, Jarïle."

"I know," you said, breathing out through your nose. "I can never truly win an argument against you, you're too stubborn to accept that you were wrong."

"As are you, my little future ruler." Clicking your tongue, you narrowed your eyes at him.

"Shut it with the little alright? You guys are just freakishly tall." Fonir held a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"That's hurtful, Jarïle. Maybe we're the normal ones and you humans are the freakishly small ones, huh?" His dramatic tone made you laugh, one of your hands pushing the book in front of you away to grab at the fast food bag as the other pushed his arm gently. He smiled down at you, a proud expression on his face as he watched your attention divert to the bag now fully in front of you. “I could’ve had the cooks make something for you, you know?”

You shook your head, already halfway done pulling out the greasy fries in its little cardboard container. “I couldn’t make them do that.”

A sigh left him at your words, and you glanced over at Fonir. “What?”

“You think someone would take the fact that they’re going to be crowned royal in the near future and use it for their own good.” You snorted. “Like actual cooked meals rather than human’s ‘quick food’.”

“Hon’,” you started, “you should’ve seen what I ate in college. It was worse than fast food.”

His brows furrowed in response before he pursed his lips. “You worry me, Jarïle.”

Now it was your turn to look proud, a grin spreading across your face. “Gotta keep you on your toes, Princey.”

“You have many years in the future to do that, Jarïle, but I have to insist that when we’re wedded, you take care of yourself.”

“You saying fast food isn’t taking care of myself?” You knew it wasn’t, fast food actually got worse after it was able to move up here but you quickly got past it when you realized how cheap it was, especially when you refused to hear Fonir out about paying.

"That's exactly what I'm saying." You huffed a laugh and shook your head. It was cute how much he doted on you after such a short amount of time.

A knock against the table drew both of your attention towards the person that did it, your eyes drifting over Soran's form, meeting his smile with your own. "Hey, Sor'."

He waved, bowing his head towards Fonir before he looked at you again and jerked a thumb over his shoulder before pulling his hand back to sign, 'Jorik needs help with the book scanner, sorry to interrupt.'

You bit your lip, glancing over at Fonir before popping a fry in your mouth and standing. "I'll gotta help Jorik real quick."

You didn't think twice when you leaned down and pecked his cheek, only pulling back to round the table and walk beside Soran. "Say anything about the kiss and I'll fight you, Sor'."

'I didn't even do anything,' he signed quickly, eyebrows furrowed. 'So quick to assume.'

You glanced up to his face after you got what he was signing, cocking an eyebrow just slightly. "You want to say something about it, don't you."

There was a pause, but eventually he nodded, casting his gaze away from you when the both of you went behind the front desk. "Knew it."

"Knew what?" Jorik asked, simultaneously tapping a book against the scanner.

'Our modest librarian gave their match a scandalous kiss on the cheek,' Soran was quick to sign, not bothering to hide the teasing expression on his face.

Jorik set the book down to gasp dramatically. "Not a kiss on the cheek! Such a travesty, I thought you were better, Korlae."

You swatted at the both of them, swiping the book from the counter before knocking the scanner on the top. When you placed the book back under, ignoring the laugh that came from Jorik at your reaction, you heard the high-pitched beep. "There."

"How'd you-"

"You just gotta bop it on the top. It's like tech on Earth, if it doesn't work, you just have to abuse it a little." You shrugged, sneaking past Soran to the open side of the desk. "If you need anymore help, you know where to find me."

"And your Prince."

"Yes, and my Prince," you said without thinking, the words processing in your head as you swiftly shook it. "The Prince. I meant the Prince. Just call him by his name, Jorik."

“Sure you meant that, Korlae. Totally. Just like you two haven’t been conjoined at the hip with him ever since you were matched with him,” Jorik said, eyes boring two holes into you with a disbelieving but playful expression. “I’m surprised no one has caught you making out yet.”

Your eyes widened, a flush spreading across your cheeks as your face grew warm. “Jorik I’m going to wring your-“

“Ah ah,” she mock scolded you, waving a finger in the air. “None of that. Don’t make me bring over your beloved.”

You held your hands up, arms outreached as your fingers curled into your palms, an exasperated huff leaving you before you turned on your heel and left the desk.

You walked back to the table, falling into your chair with a heaving sigh as Fonir looked up from a book, one that wasn’t from the pile of history books, which means he must’ve grabbed it when you were gone. “What’s wrong, Jarïle? You seem upset.”

“I’m fine, Fonir,” you said, hand moving to pat his. “Jorik’s was just teasing me.”

“About?” You met his eyes, and it only took a couple seconds before it clicked. “Me?”

“Mhm,” you hummed. “We’re apparently conjoined at the hip.”

He glanced down at his book and shut it after another second. “I wouldn’t say that she’s wrong saying it.”

“So you think it too?” You couldn’t help but ask it, but you knew the answer already.

“Well,” he started, holding onto the ‘l’ for a short moment, “we could spend more time together. You’re welcome to live at the castle.”

“Marry me first,” you laughed. “Give me a reason to make my commute to work longer, ‘kay?”

Fonir grabbed your hand, tipping his head down to kiss the back of it. “I fully intend on doing that…in a year.”

“You’re so quick for me to move in, but you won’t marry me.”

“I assumed that you’d want more time living separately. And it’d give you six months to get used to it all before your life is changed.”

“Because my life was completely normal now?” He shot you a look, and you merely leaned up to kiss his cheek again. “Normal’s boring anyway, match.”

You felt Fonir’s normally cool skin heat under your lips, and you pulled back to see the neon green flush along his cheeks. You knew what got him to be like that. It was you calling him match, that little nickname you jokingly called him three months ago. But when you saw how flushed and flustered it made him, you kept it.

“Match,” he repeated, just for you to nod. “My match.”

“Forever and ever, Fonir.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Part two

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dreamlandreader · 6 months

Text

Sick Day

I have no idea if fae can catch colds/the flu but I’m currently stuck in bed sick so this is my comfort fic 🥲 It isn’t edited because I just wanted to get the idea out of my head, so apologies for any mistakes ❤️

Warnings: Flu, none graphic discussion of flu symptoms, and stubborn Illyrian babies

Feyre Archeron was feeling incredibly smug. She and her mate had somehow managed to survive their son’s first exposure to the flu unscathed.

Poor Nyx had unfortunately become sick after a play date, so Feyre and Rhysand had spent the past week knee-deep in used tissues and providing endless hugs and kisses to their crying toddler, who didn’t quite understand why he couldn’t stop coughing.

For the first time in almost five days, Nyx had felt well enough to play with his toys on the living room carpet, and that’s where Feyre left him under the dutiful watch of his Auntie Elain while she wandered upstairs to join Rhys in their shared office.

Her smile faltered, however, the second she stepped through the door to the office and came face to face with her mate.

Rhys’s usually impeccable style was now far more dishevelled than she was used to seeing. His shirt was buttoned incorrectly, his hair was sticking up as though he had run his hands through it in frustration far too many times, and his perfect nose was looking rather red.

It was then that a single sniffle signalled trouble.

“Love, are you okay?” Feyre asked tentatively, knowing her eldest Illyrian baby would likely be the most challenging to handle when sick.

‘Yes darling, I’m absolutely-” Rhys broke off, falling into a fit of sneezes and released a slight groan before continuing. “Fine. I’m absolutely fine,”

“No offence, but you look awful. Why don’t you take a break? Go back to bed. I can finish up whatever you’re doing.”

“Okay, ouch! Plenty of offence taken. I’m fine. I’m the most powerful high lord. I don’t need to take a break because of the sniffles,” Rhys scoffed before he again began to sneeze uncontrollably.

Deciding it was not worth an argument so early in the day, Feyre settled down at her own desk and began to tackle her looming pile of paperwork, desperately trying to block out her husband’s endless coughing. Feyre’s resolve to leave Rhys to it lasted precisely twenty-two minutes before his sniffling drove her so mad that she slammed her pen down and stormed over to his desk.

“I love you so much, Rhysand, but if you sneeze one more time and refuse to go to bed, I will lose it!”

“Feyre, I can’t!”

“Why?” Feyre practically yelled, “Because of your paperwork? Do you think me so incapable as a High Lady that I cannot sign a few papers and get to grips with our court’s laws?”

“No! It’s not that, and you very well know it,” he argued, incensed that his wife would assume he thought of her as anything less than the most competent of beings.

Sighing, Rhys put his head in his hands and seemed to steady himself before making an important admission.

“I cannot go to bed because he will never let it go.”

“What? Who?”

“Cassian!”

Rhys finally looked up at his wife and met her confused gaze. His beautiful face was full of something Feyre had never seen take over her mate’s expression before. Embarrassment. Rhysand was- well, he was blushing.

“Around my 400th birthday, I contracted a pretty bad case of the flu. My bones ached every time I moved, my head hurt, I couldn’t stop coughing and sneezing, and frankly, I felt dire. So, for the first time ever, I took the day off. I sent word to Cassian that I wouldn’t be at training that morning because I was under the weather, and him being the concerned idiot he is, he turned up thinking I was on my deathbed. When he ran into my bedroom and found me with two chunks of toilet paper stuffed up my nose and an eye mask on to block out the sunlight, well, I’ve never seen him laugh quite so hard. And he has never let it go.” Rhys said, rolling his eyes.

“The great Rhysand,” he exclaimed, deepening his voice to match the grit of his brother’s vocal range. “The most powerful fae in Prythian’s history, taken down by a gnarly cold!”

Feyre’s frown disappeared, replaced by a look of sympathy and understanding. Sitting gently on his lap, Feyre took Rhys’s face in her hands and looked deep into his violet eyes.

“He doesn’t mean anything by it, and it doesn’t upset me by a long shot,” Rhys laughed to himself, “but if I have to go another century listening to his sarcastic comments about it, I may commit murder.”

“So you’re not going to take a break because your stupid, stubborn ass is too full of pride.” Feyre queried.

“Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” Rhys shrugged.

“Rhys!” Feyre scolded, playfully tapping his shoulder.

“Look, why don’t you just go to bed. Cass is busy the next few days anyway; he doesn’t need to find out where you are. It can be our little secret.” Slowly, Feyre could sense her mate coming around to the idea, and she had one more trick up her sleeve.

“I’ll even stay with you if that will convince you. We can have a day in bed together. Just relax, the two of us.” Feyre suggested, a sly glint in her eye as she ran her fingers up and down Rhysand’s tattooed arm.

“Feyre, we’re already so far behind,” Rhys interrupted, shivering under his mate’s touch.

“It will wait, Rhys. And anything in that pile that can’t, we can delegate to Mor and Amren. They’ll be happy to help,”

“Fine. I’ll agree to one day in bed. On the condition that nobody ever finds out. Oh, and that you stay with me.” Rhys agrees, squeezing Feyre’s hip.

Dragging Rhysand by the hand to their bedroom, Feyre sent a message to her sister informing her that she and Rhys were snowed under with work and asking if she would mind taking Nyx out for the rest of the day. After receiving a reply from Elain that she would happily take her nephew for the afternoon, Feyre settled in bed with Rhysand, pulling him into her chest and stroking his hair in a bid to help him fall asleep. She found success within ten minutes as her mate drifted into a secure slumber.

A week later …

“Oh, by the way, I contacted Tarquin about renewing our trade agreement, and he said he is happy to sign the contract again under the same terms as last time if that is what you both wish, of course,” Mor stated, looking towards her High Lord and Lady.

“I thought you were dealing with the trade agreements alone these days, Rhys?” Azriel questioned, unable to leave his inner spy at the door, even if it was family night.

“I am. I just needed a little extra help this week after being so busy taking care of Nyxie the week before,”

“That’s right, little buddy, you were sick, weren’t you,” Cassian said to the young Illyrian perched on his lap, ruffling his hair and making him giggle.

“Yep. I was sneezy, and I threwed up.”

“Lovely,” Amren cringed from the other end of the table.

“Daddy was sneezy, too, but he didn’t throw up. He sleeped a lot. Mama pet him like a puppy, and he feeled better.”

The table erupted with laughter at the image of the High Lord of the Night Court being stroked like a dog. Rhysand sank in his seat and gave Feyre a pointed stare that said, “I told you so!”

“Oops,” Nyx cried after seeing his father’s strange reaction, “I member now Mama said I was meant to keep that a secret.” Nyx covered his mouth in surprise and looked towards his mother with shame in his eyes.

“It’s okay, baby, it was an accident,” Feyre replied and opened her arms for her son to crawl into.

“Did you- did you check him for fleas before you let him into your bed, Feyre.” Cassian howled, wiping tears from his eyes while meeting Rhysand’s glare.

“Ha ha, very funny. Have you had your fill now?” Rhys quipped.

Cassian opened his mouth again to fling another joke Rhysand’s way but was interrupted by his own inability to avoid letting out a very dramatic sneeze, swiftly followed by three more.

Shock filled Cassian’s face, and his smirk dropped. He took one panicked look at Rhysand, who was holding in his laughter, before looking to Feyre who was wearing her own wicked smile as she handed him a tissue and calmly stated, “Good luck, Lord of Bloodshed.”

#feysand #acotar #rhysand #feyre archeron #acotar fanfiction #feyre x rhysand #feyre cursebreaker #feyre darling #cassian #inner circle #sarah j maas #sjmaas #a court of thorns and roses

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lilysaus · 10 months

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okay. this fucking picture made me so mad i went on a 15 minute rant to my sister while she was trying to read her book.

so ive been looking at a lot of pictures of posts on pinterest because thats just where i spend most of my time. most of these posts are on the topic of adhd. ive never been properly diagnosed, but reading through these posts has made me feel so welcomed and understood (more than my parents have made me feel, pretending that this is "all just a phase that ill get over soon because pretending to have adhd is just the thing right now") that i realized ON MY OWN that "hey maybe i do have adhd." well.

i found this post while scrolling through pinterest, and it really sparked my anger.

i have a friend who was diagnosed with add before it was considered an "outdated" term and scrapped because apparently ALL FUCKING FORMS OF NEURODIVERGENCY THAT ARENT AUTISM ARE JUST "ADHD".

i read this post and it was what sparked my anger and my 15 minute rant to my sister. people who get degrees in this stuff, or counselors at schools, never really know what youre going through. all they know is that youre having some problems and they need to be solved.

which brings me back to this picture. if you look up "is add still a thing" on google, this is the first picture to pop up. and just seeing the visual aids they put with it makes me furious enough to throw something or someone out a fifth story window. the little girl is fucking SMILING while thinking about the most common shit people think us neurodivergent folks think when distracted. first off, no. false. we dont just think of video games and candy. we think of the randomest shit possible, like how long can i sit here without blinking or what kind of funny shit can i draw on this one sheet of paper.

and ALSO.

you cant just categorize adhd as TWO SEPARATE THINGS and call it good. we dont fit under two umbrellas. theres too many of us. we each have our own figurative umbrellas that only we ourselves can fit under, no one else. thats the problem with neurotypicals. they fit the typical stereotype for humans: we try to understand everything by putting it in a box. those lists of "symptoms"? i match every single one. on both sides. so ha. take that SCIENTISTS. what am i? some kind of freak of nature because i dont fit under just ONE of your precious categories?

i also looked up what "inattentive" means and it made me angrier. according to oxford languages, "inattentive" means "not paying attention to something", which doesnt seem too bad, right? it fits some people perfectly with their symptoms, right? but its not the definition that bugs me. its the example sentence thats used. "a particularly dull and inattentive student". basically saying that if you dont pay attention well to something, youre dull and boring.

im sorry, what? sometimes i have trouble paying attention, sure, but you ask any of my friends and they can agree i am NOT boring in any way, shape, or form. non of them would describe me as "dull". inattentive? sure, but not dull. so to call it "inattentive" adhd, instead of just add, is stupid! my friend with ADD (not fucking adhd, stupid scientists) is one of the funniest, most entertaining people ive ever met. shes an incredible artist, super smart, and knows how to make anyone laugh. does that sound dull to you? does she have problems focusing sometimes? yes. does she struggle with doing something sometimes? yes. but dont the rest of us?

my point is, when i see things like this, it pisses me off. like, unless all of the scientists who agreed "add" is an outdated term have it themselves, i refuse to believe its outdated and i will continue to say that my friend has it. she was literally diagnosed by the doctor telling her "you have attention deficit and hyperactivity disorder without the hyperactivity." THATS JUST FUCKING ATTENTION DEFICIT DISORDER YOU DUMBASS!!!

anyway, i hope im not the only one who feels this way. i just felt it necessary to get this out there. maybe someday, people wont be so dumb and single minded. in my opinion, neurodivergent people are superior in intellect and creativity, but i guess until someone like that takes over the world and dropkicks neurotypicals into the stratosphere, we'll never know.

#adhd stuff #undiagnosed adhd #living with adhd #neurodivergence #neurodivergent #add #its called add not adhd #you dumbasses #scientists are stupid sometimes #make that all the time

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 19 days

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Tell me, do you think Amelie shows any of the signs of a woman who was mistreated by her husband, or at least do you think she did before season 5?

That is really, really, really not something you can tell just from a few casual encounters with a person, especially since we didn't meet her until after Colt was dead and we never saw her in another romantic relationship. Every victim will act differently and have different triggers. I have no doubt I could find Amelie's perfect match among real victims because there is no set pattern of behavior they're required to follow to be real victims.

All that being said, I think this ask may just be poorly phrased, so I'm gonna talk about the general way the abuse was handled by the story, which was not great.

As I talk about this more, please remember that we are discussing characters in a story and not real people. I would never be this critical of a real person because a real person is not a piece in an ongoing narrative. A friend revealing that they were abused without any prior indication of this fact is perfectly normal as victims are often very good at masking their symptoms. A character doing the same is often bad writing as stories allow you to get inside people's heads, to see people in private moments, or even just when no one else is looking at them. If the writers never take a moment to use those kinds of tricks to set up a big reveal like an abusive parent, then the reveal comes off like something the writers made up at the last minute, which is bad writing.

So, if you're asking if the show set up the reveal well, then no, I don't think it did as nothing we see in the show would make you guess that something was off about Colt. Like you could argue that it makes Amelie's overprotective and indulgent nature make sense, but lots of people spoil their kids without going through abuse, so that behavior didn't need to be explained. It was perfectly logical as-is.

You could also argue that the abuse explains why Felix is a bully, but plenty of people are awful to others without ever going through some sort of trauma. Felix being a bully could have just as easily have been the result of a pampered upbringing where he was given everything he wanted.

Colt's reveal can be argued to recontextualizes Amelie and Felix's behavior, but that's about it. It doesn't take questionable behavior and make it suddenly make sense. Like I'm still baffled as to why Felix did all the crap he did in his titular episode because he was never cruel just to be cruel again, so what was going on there? Why the dramatic character shift in season four and five?

For the show to have actually set up the reveal of Colt's abuse, it would have needed a really blatant example of Amelie or Felix being triggered OR some sort of line that established that something was off about Colt or even just a line to establish that Felix changed after Colt's abuse started since it's implied that it only showed up after he realized he was sick/dying.

For a trigger, just look at how Marinette was written in Derision. That actually was a good example of PTSD (or at least, my second hand understanding of it). The reason why I'm so critical of that episode is because PTSD doesn't magically turn on and off like that. It's not the kind of thing that shows up for a single episode and then disappears. Marinette should have been having moments like that long before Derision AND long after it, especially since the show has written in a lot of moments that would have made for good times to trigger her and establish that something was off. She's been to that pool with Adrien before. She had Kim ask for her opinion on a present he's giving to another girl. She saw an image of Kim down on his knees with a gift.

Any or all of those should have drawn out some kind of negative, trauma-based reaction from her if the writers wanted us to believe that this fictional character who they have full control over has ongoing trauma. Unless the writers are really saying that all those questionable jokes were her being triggered and then just.... I hope I don't have to explain how utterly disgusting that is.

For an example of a line, they could have done something like having Adrien apologize for missing Colt's funeral only for Felix to say something about Colt not deserving to be mourned or really anything to indicate that he wasn't exactly sad that his father was gone. They could have also had Adrien comment on how much Felix had changed since they were kids and how he could never imagine his cousin being so cruel.

To be fair, they kinda do that one with Adrien initially dismissing Felix's behavior as being the result of his father's recent passing, but it's hard to tell if that means that Felix used to be kind or what. That's especially true because Adrien's been show to tolerate a lot of bad behavior and Felix is canonically made from jealous (Yes, I'm serious, this was a line in the play: His jealousy came to life). So Felix has probably always been jealous of Adrien and will probably always be a jealous person because I guess that's just what he was made to be?

Moving on!

I wanted to highlight that the writers do know how to do this kind of discussion-based setup, as we saw back in Frightningale:

Mayor Bourgeois: But sweetie, there's no way we can cancel the shoot now. Chloé: (pulling out her phone) I'm going to call Mom and tell her how all my dreams have been crushed! (feigns sorrow) Mayor Bourgeois: (stammers anxiously, then grabs Chloé's phone and starts punching in a phone number) Let's not disturb our beloved Queen for such a little matter; right, my little Princess?

Even if this line is kinda weird since Audrey probably wouldn't have even answered the phone.

Any time the writers actually commit to a plot point, they set it up in a way that a little kid could pick up on because of course they do! This is a show for little kids. I think the writers do genuinely want it to be entertaining for the intended audience.

This is why the Colt thing is so weird to me. It's a pretty freaking serious thing to add to your show out of nowhere and I have a sneaking suspicion that it's never going to be mentioned again, which is less than stellar writing. It very much feels like something the writers added to hand waved away Felix's bad behavior, but I'd argue that this is actually a terrible lesson to teach kids.

Being kind to those who have gone through trauma is always a good lesson to teach, but Felix has attempted to assault Ladybug, tried to malign his cousin's good name by impersonating him, and betrayed the entire world by empowering a terrorist even though he could - and should - have immediately gone to Ladybug and told her who the terrorist was. These are not minor faux pas and trauma is not an excuse to traumatize others, otherwise we'd end up with a world full of traumatized people doing whatever they wanted because trauma!

There is a lot of nuance to this topic, but at the very least, Felix needed to do some serious apologizing to make his redemption feel earned. We should not be teaching kids that a sob story is all it takes to justify the kind of shit Felix pulled as that would mean that Gabriel and Chloe's actions were also fully justified because trauma! Might as well lump Lila in there, too, because I'm pretty sure that she's an orphan? Whatever is going on with her backstory is nothing good and we really need to be seeing some clearer messaging around who gets redeemed and why. It's why I've reblogged so many posts about Felix and Chloe being near identical in their actions. The issues is not that Chloe needs to be redeemed. The issue is that there is no reason why she wasn't and Felix was. There is nothing a child can point to in order to understand who you should give a second chance to and who you should run away from for your own mental health.

#ml writing salt #ml writing critical

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dailyreverie · 2 years

Text

What did I do right (to be with you right now)

A/N: I was struck by dad!Poe feels a few days ago on Discord and then this happened, so this is me being soft af about Poe being a great dad and a sweet wonderful husband. Title comes from "Favorite T-Shirt" by Jake Scott.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader (no pronouns, but reader is pregnant)

Word Count: 1.4K

CW: Pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, parenthood.

Every single day, Poe confirmed that Kes Dameron was an exact replica of him. It was obvious to anyone's eyes, with matching curls and the same deep beautiful eyes, and when it came to the inside there was no doubt: Kes Dameron is just like his dad, with a big heart and a mind too full of thoughts.

You hadn’t been feeling well, a 5-month-old pregnancy being at fault, and poor little Kes got too worried when he saw his mom leaving the room to go lay down and his dad following behind to make sure you were alright. Kes followed close too, looking at Poe helping you get comfortable before meeting Kes outside your bedroom.

It took Poe one look at Kes to know exactly what was going through his mind. Poe held his hand as they both walked outside to the back of the house, he needed a distraction, and considering his and his son's head worked the same way, he knew just the right thing to do.

“Is mommy okay?” Kes’s little voice asked as they came to a halt, full of concern that reached up to his eyes wide open looking up at his dad. You were okay, more than okay, you were just very much pregnant. The second trimester had hit hard and fast, with waves of dizziness and leg cramps coming out of nowhere that left you down and resting for most parts of the day. To the eyes of a 3-year-old boy, without a doubt, it was a sight worth worrying about.

“Oh, bud. Don’t worry,” Poe kneeled down to his height, meeting Kes eye to eye. “Mommy is alright, but making a baby makes mommy feel sick sometimes.”

“How can we help mommy?” This kid, Poe could see once again, was too much like him: a man of action ready to help.

“We can help mommy by letting her rest, ‘kay?” Poe did his best to try and calm him down. Kes nodded, not quite convinced, but smiling when his dad did it too. “Now come on, let’s climb up.” Poe signaled his head up to his old x-wing, his beloved Black One, now resting in all her retired glory.

“Inside?!” Kes asked with excited eyes.

“Well, you are a big brother now, big brothers need to learn how to fly.” The way Kes’s eyes lit up almost made Poe tear up, his heart swelling with pride. “Come on, up we go.” With a grunt, Poe lifted Kes and placed him inside of the X-Wing. He hopped on after, placing Kes on his lap and reaching for the helmet that rested on the dashboard. It was way too big for Kes’s head, and when Poe placed it there the protective gear hung to the side of his little head.

“Dad! I can’t see anything!” Both of them laughed when Kes turned, the helmet covering half of his face.

“I’m sorry, Commander,” Poe apologized with a fake serious tone that only made both of them laugh more as Poe arranged the helmet so the little boy could see. “Pilots need their helmets while flying.”

“‘m not a commander.” Kes’s hands stuck to his sides, eyes analyzing everything in front of him.

“What do you mean? Kes Dameron is the best pilot in the galaxy.” They shared another laugh before Poe signaled to the front. “Alright, bud, why don’t you press that button over there…” Poe pointed to one of the power buttons, which Kes pressed with unsure chubby fingers while Poe lifted one of the engine levers. The motor started roaring then, and Poe’s stomach fluttered with long-forgotten electricity now also mixed with joy as his kid’s animated laughter filled the cockpit. “There you go! Now, let’s lift it a little bit, ready?”

When Poe grabbed the lever in between their legs, he guided both of Kes’s small hands around his own. He began lifting the ship, just a few feet above the ground, enough for Kes to feel it. “We are flying!” Just the feeling of hovering made the little boy erupt in excited giggles, Poe could never get tired of that sound.

“Yes we are, bud. Just don’t tell mommy, okay?” You were going to kill him if you found out. “Ready to get back to base, Commander Dameron?” Poe asked after a couple of minutes, channeling his General voice.

“Yes, daddy!” His voice was as firm as his father’s, just a tiny bit more high-pitched. They landed the ship with matching smiles and looked at each other. Sometimes, in moments like this, when Poe looked at his life he could not believe how lucky he was.

“That was a very successful mission, Commander, congratulations bud!”

“Again!” Kes couldn’t stop his excitement, no matter how hard he tried.

“Oh, no…” Poe laughed, he was creating a monster. “Maybe some other time. Now let’s go back inside-”

“No! No daddy, please! I want to stay here.” You were definitely going to kill him.

They stayed there, going through every button and trigger, what each one did and how everything worked; they shot the bad guys and Poe told stories about far away planets and being among the stars until, eventually, Kes ended up falling asleep with the helmet on and a smile on his face; that smile brought Poe a comfort different to the one that his ship had always given to him, one that came with peace and home and his beautiful family. So much peace, that maybe he could close his eyes for a little while and take it all in.

That’s how you find your two boys after a while - after the amount of quietness in the house became too much quiet -. The two of them rested calmly inside the X-Wing, a sight you hadn’t seen in so long, one that took you years back to when you were fighting a war. Your stomach fluttered, this time not with nausea, but with so much love you could maybe start crying.

Your hand reached up to Poe’s curls, much shorter now than they were back then, little streaks of grey appearing on some of the tips and roots, but he looked handsome as ever, as he did the day you met him. “Poe,” you whispered when he grunted, his way of showing he was awake. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He whispered back, following your eyes to look at the still-sleeping toddler on his lap. “Are you feeling better?” Your nod made Poe let out a happy sigh. “Kes was getting nervous about you feeling sick, that’s why we came here.”

“Oh, my little boy.” You expressed fondly, your hand resting on top of the helmet. “So you fixed it the only way you knew how.”

“It used to work for me.” Your eyes met with a silent nostalgia on them, with thousands of memories of finding each other in that same spot before battles, after losses, or when you just needed a moment of quiet.

“It worked for him too.” With careful hands you removed the helmet, letting Kes’s head rest more comfortably on Poe’s chest. “Flying never fails, does it?” A guilty smile played on Poe’s lips, one too inviting not to kiss away.

“I thought you wouldn’t hear,” Poe confessed against your lips.

“An X-Wing engine?” You kissed him again, trying to suppress your laugh like that. Poe apologized, an apology that you took with a smile as you played with Kes’s curls. “Did he like it?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t hear his excitement.” He joked, making both of you laugh. “I’m afraid you are going to have to deal with pilots for a little while more.” Poe stretched his neck to kiss you again, not missing the way you smiled and sighed under his touch.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” As if on cue Kes began stretching then, lifting his arms to shake away the sleep. “Good morning, Captain Dameron.” You pushed back his curls, welcoming him with soothing motions. “Let’s go back inside and have a snack, how does that sound?”

Kes nodded as he blinked awake, meeting your face with a tiny smile. “Yeah, but I’m a Commander, mommy!” Kes corrected you, just another confirmation that Kes was definitely his father’s son.

It goes unspoken as both you and Poe laugh and meet each other’s eyes, but after the years you went through together, you often wondered what did you do right to be right there, right now.

**********************

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron angst #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x you #poe x you #poe x reader #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron au #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fic

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sensei-venus · 1 year

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Happy Holidays!

How does alpha Hawk act once his omega reader is pregnant with his pup/pups ?

•He can smell it within a week or so. The way their scent slowly starts to change over the passing days after their mating, multiple days in a row after his rut and their heat match up. He knows, they both do, that they did not use any kind of protection. They wanted this.

•Reader most likely doesn’t know, unless they are super in tune with their body like that. (I know people who really wanted to get pregnant, did all the high tech tracking stuff, and claim they knew they where pregnant within a few days of having sex. They said they felt different and experienced symptoms. Can’t say it’s not true, turns out they where pregnant.) reader can’t smell their own scent. So they won’t notice the change but Hawk definitely will.

•After a few week’s of waiting, they test together. Hawk try’s his best to stay calm as the omega takes a home test in their bathroom. The two of them are bouncing around after the test confirms that the omega is pregnant. Hawk is definitely drowning them in his scent while probably growling, a verbal confrontation of affection. He’s so excited that he ends up inviting everyone from the dojo over once they get the official hospital results back. No one is to surprised that they where pregnant after being bonded for over a year. It’s Hawk.

•Hawk helps schedule every doctors appointment and goes to every single one with his omega. He wants to be there for every moment no matter how significant it is. He calls out constantly from his job at the dojo. No one blames him though and Miguel tends to take over his classes when he’s gone. Hawk rewards him by bring him new ultrasound pictures, updating him about his pup/s growth with every visit.

•Hawk doesn’t really care how many pups they end up having during any of their pregnancies. There will definitely be multiple pregnancies, no matter how many pups they have pure litter. He does want a lot of pups, it’s kinda his dream as a alpha, to sire many pups with his beautiful omega and raise them to be little badasses. He does worry more in multi pregnancies, more pups in one litter scare him do to the pressure it has on his poor omega.

•He’s a hoverer, he doesn’t mean to be but he definitely is. He wants to make sure his omega is completely safe and relaxed though out the pregnancy. The less stress they have the less stress he has when he has to leave them to go to work. Something he dreads on a daily basis.

•He constantly talks to his mates belly, telling the pup/s about all the cool stuff he’s been doing at the dojo, talking about Demetri and Miguel, complaining about Johnny and Daniel. He likes to whisper about how pretty their carrier is (mama,daddy), how amazing they are and how he can’t wait for them to meet. He ramble’s about all the stuff he’s going to teach them when they are old enough. He gets excited when they first start kicking.

•He constantly scents things for his omega all the time. Even though they lobe together already, he takes the time to scent new things to give to his omega during the pregnancy. His heart skips a beat and his pride goes up when he sees something new that he just scented in their nest. Most of his old sweater’s get a new home from in the back of their closet to readers overloaded pregnancy induced nest.

•He secretly keeps a list of all of his mates food cravings in his car. Sometimes before he gets home from work, he will stop by said place and pick up what ever he knows they have been craving recently. He loves watching his omega go to town on some food in their nest while he strokes over their round bump for a while. Watching the pup/s move under the tight flesh as the omega eats in pure bliss.

•Has a issue with growing at any alpha that gets to close to his mate during the pregnancy. He’s even bowed up at omega’s and beta’s he felt got to close. He’s even ready to throw hands at the slightest look or stare from unwanted eyes. He always has a hand on the omega out in public and he triple scent’s then before they go out. Makes sure to nibble at their bonding mark for extra effect. The teeth shaped scar’s on their scent gland is always on display for everyone to see.

#cobra kai #cobra kai blog #cobra kai ask blog #cobra kai headcanons #cobra kai hawk #hawk moskowitz #eli moskowitz #alpha!hawk #cobra kai x reader #pregnant reader #cobra kai hawk x reader #hawk x reader #hawk headcanons #reader insert #a/b/o au #cobra kai a/o/b #a/o/b #omegaverse

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camels-pen · 6 months

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Okay but consider tough… Vampire au Sanuso where Sanji mistakes a bat for Usopp until Usopp comes into the door and Sanji feels extremly stupid. But he keeps the bat around as a little pet anyways and it seems to absolutely HATE Usopp. Like, full on trying to attack him all the time. Sanji promises a pouting Usopp that it’s just overprotective, it’s Apperantly wounded and he was the first one to find it. Usopp just glares at the thing and says something along the lines of „We should throw that disgusting vermin off the ship right now.“

Sanjis expression must have been one of pure terror, because as soon as Usopp sees it he backpedals, says he had a long day and he’s tired and hungry, of course Sanji can keep it if he wants to, he should probably head to sleep anyways. See you tomorrow. And Sanji guesses he really must have been tired, that cold and cruel expression on his face was very unlike the crewmate he has grown so fond of…

In hindsight he supposes this should have been his first clue that something was terribly wrong.

In the Next two weeks the crew starts feeling fainter and fainter and more sickly. Chopper expects it to be some sort of Virus going around but he can’t find any diseases that match the symptoms. Everyone is on edge but Sanji keeps noticing that Usopp… doesn’t act like himself anymore. He rarely joins them at the dinner table and he seems to even forget to take his usual blood dose from Choppers stack unless their doctor explicitly reminds him to. He seems colder to everyone as well. Unhelpful. Meanspirited. Nami worries about Zoro being sick and he basically tells her to stop worrying so much because it’s annoying. Robin mentions reading something in a book about other mythical creatures in the area and he disregards her completly. Her book mysteriously vanishes the next day. Luffy gets so sick he’s out of comissiob for a few days and his reaction is basically non existent. Franky pulls Sanji aside nervously to confess he saw something strange at night and went to tell Usopp, since it hung around his workshop and Usopp didn’t really react at all „Don’t worry about it.“ he said, not even looking up. „Your mind is probably playing tricks on you.“ and Sanji slowly begins to realize that his new pet seems to only hate Usopp this much. That it seems downright protective of all the other strawhats. That it’s a very smart animal, but even smart animals usually don’t look at you like this and you feel like they understand every single word you say. And Sanji realizes that something , SOMETHING is terribly wrong with what he thought of as Usopps until a few days ago.

Tldr: Shapeshifting and probably soulsucking creature wounds Usopp so much he has to stay in bat form (or maybe he gets cursed?) and Batsopp has been desperately trying to warn his crew that someone has taken his place and is planning to drain their life’s out one by one… and also is now realizing that „HOLY COW SANJI LIKES ME TOO? WISH I FOUND THAT OUT UNDER DIFFERENT CIRCUMSTANCES BUT WOW?!!“

ANON THIS IS PURE GOLD OH MY GOD??

The fact that he hears Sanji confess his feelings while he's just hanging out in the galley, probably trying to think up a plan to get Sanji to understand him, is so fucking funny.

Usopp, thinking: Okay, maybe I can grab some paper and write out a message-

Sanji, cooking behind him: You know it's a shame you don't like Usopp; he's a wonderful guy.

Usopp, squeaking to himself: Yeah, I am, but that thing's not me!

Sanji, laughing: Oh don't be like that, he really is great. There's a reason I fell in love with him after all.

Usopp:

Usopp, in much higher pitched squeaking: you fell in WHAT

#ask #answered #vampire usopp #sanuso #one piece #holy fuck i dig this so hard #also KJDHFGD THE FACT THAT HE HEARS SANJI'S CONFESSION OUT OF LEFT FIELD LIKE THAT WHILE TRYING TO PROTECT THEM IS SO GOOD I CANT UNDERSTAT #Usopp: oh god ohhhh my god i have to stay focused i have to get this Thing off the ship but also tehee Sanji likes me~ *blushes*#god dude this is so so good #side note: I also can't get an alternate version of this idea out of my head where Usopp thinks Sanji fell in love with the Creature #Usopp hearing Sanji wax poetic about how much he loves him: FUCK what does that creepy weird Thing have that i dont??? :(#aaaaa this was a great ask anon TYSM for sending it!

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cocklessboy · 2 years

Text

I’m 37 years old. Two years ago I realized I was transgender and started transitioning. I now fully look and sound like a man, take testosterone HRT, and have had top surgery.

Transitioning has changed my life in loads of ways. Severe depression and anxiety turned out to be dysphoria-induced and mostly went away with the transition. The testosterone makes it easier to build muscle and I’m in much better physical condition. I used to get PMDD (like PMS but so bad it can cause suicidal thoughts, lasting for weeks out of every month) and now my emotions are pretty stable. I’m more confident. In a stressful situation, I have the ability to stand up for myself whereas before I always defaulted to submitting or running away.

But recently, my transition helped me in a very unexpected way. I started noticing that I was really hyperactive. I never used to be. I have a sleep disorder (not diagnosed yet but I have all the symptoms of narcolepsy and will hopefully be tested for it soon) and I’ve always been groggy and tired all the time. But now I don’t just have energy; I’ve become straight-up hyperactive. Cannot sit still. Constantly fidgeting - not just stimming (I’m autistic) but feeling like I have to be constantly moving around or I’ll explode.

At the same time, I was editing a video I’d been working on for ages, one where I’d recorded myself playing a game for a long period of time then was compiling all the footage into a single video with narration. I watched this footage, watched myself, and started realizing I wasn’t just hyperactive. I was constantly distracted. I’d forget what I was doing the moment something shiny caught my eye. I’d start a sentence and never finish it and forget I’d ever been talking.

I started thinking a little more carefully about my life. About how often I make a cup of tea and leave it in the kitchen to brew only to forget about it until I go into the kitchen hours later to make a cup of tea. About how I have to hold my keys in my hand as I walk out the door otherwise I know I might forget them. About how I always have to have important things in my line of sight or they’ll fall out of my brain. About how I have to set three reminders for every important event and still live in constant anxiety that I will forget, because I often do. About how I have two monitors on my computer and I always have to have several things going on at once. I can’t just watch a video, I have to play a game, too. I can’t just scroll tumblr, I have to be listening to music. I always have a ton of tabs open on my browser (which is Firefox! get Firefox if you don’t have it! it’ll change your life!) with YouTube videos which are paused partway through. I have a mountain of unfinished projects because the moment the inspiration wears off I get a new idea and start a new project instead.

Add in the hyperactivity, and... Well, I managed to get a referral from my GP for ADHD evaluation. I managed to find an English-speaking psychiatrist (I’m an American living in central Europe) who takes insurance and specializes in ADHD. After three sessions where he asked me many questions about my life and my childhood, he said he was quite sure I have “some level of” ADHD, and I could start trying medication, and then we’d start working on lifestyle changes (schedules, exercise) to make the medication as effective as possible.

When I first met him I explained that I’m transgender. My name has not been legally changed yet but I asked him to call me by my real name and he had no issue with it. Totally unfazed by the whole thing (although the receptionist was always annoyed by me and insisted on listing everything under my deadname to match my insurance - not out of transphobia, but out of bureaucratic nitpickiness). Now and then during our conversations when I was talking about my childhood he would say OH! RIGHT! I keep picturing you as a little boy. You were a little girl. I have to keep reminding myself (because the symptoms are different - I wasn’t hyperactive as a child, I was quiet, and I did well in school, which is not how most boys present). It was extremely validating that this guy not only accepted me as male, but straight-up kept forgetting that I was even trans.

So the first medication we tried was atomoxetine. This is an SNRI which was developed as an antidepressant, but only turned out to help people with ADHD. I’d had manic/psychotic reactions to antidepressants of all classes before, so we started me at a low dose, and unfortunately I started getting paranoid and hallucinating, so I stopped it immediately.

The only other ADHD medication available in this country is Ritalin (no, we don’t even have Adderall here!). It is not covered by insurance for adults because of a deeply-rooted belief in the wildly-outdated mental health care system here that ADHD is something only children have and that they should grow out of it as adults, but it’s not prohibitively expensive (a month’s supply at my current dose is about $12/£10; I’ll probably need to bump up the dose at least a little bit but it shouldn’t become unaffordable).

This medication? Is fucking magic. I’m convinced it was made by a wizard, or perhaps some kind of divine entity.

I do get some side effects. It makes me desperately thirsty and if I don’t drink a shitton of water, I get dehydrated. It kills my appetite (but it only lasts 4-6 hours and my second dose of the day wears off by evening, at which point I get very hungry and eat loads, so I’m not worried about that). It makes me slightly shaky sometimes, but that seems to be going away as my body gets used to it. It also makes me really sleepy for about an hour after I take it, which is not an officially-listed or studied side effect, but there are enough other people online trying to figure out why Ritalin makes them sleepy that I know it’s not just me. (One theory is that if you’re really sleep-deprived, as I am, but have ADHD, the sleepiness signals might not be getting through because your brain is all out of whack, and the Ritalin fixes the receptors so you finally become aware of how exhausted you are and get sleepy for a while; I’ve seen suggestions that a higher dose might fix this.)

On the other hand, I have now experienced actual happiness for the first time in my life.

I always knew I was struggling. I knew things were hard. Over time I became aware that they were not this hard for other people. But I had nothing to compare to. I didn’t know how other people felt. The world would tell me: that thing you’re struggling with is easy. Just do it. The only possible reason you haven’t done it is that you are lazy, or you don’t want to, or you’re not trying at all. Normal people did not seem to be able to comprehend how basic life tasks like making food or showering or vacuuming or writing an email could be so difficult they felt impossible.

And now I understand why. With the Ritalin, those things are easy. So easy I don’t even have to think about them. If I’d spent my whole life like this, I might not be able to understand how it could be difficult either.

With the Ritalin, when I see something I need or want to do, I can just do it. Immediately. I make the decision to do it, and then I do it. (If that sounds like a simple and obvious thing to you, congrats! You probably don’t have ADHD or any other form of executive dysfunction. If it sounds like a miracle, you might want to get yourself evaluated if you haven’t.)

With the Ritalin, a task that once involved hours or days of frustrated struggle trying and failing to get my body to move, to get myself to start Doing The Thing, wanting to do it, straining to do it, feeling guilty for not doing it, hating myself for being such a failure, might take... five minutes. Oh, right, I need to take out the rubbish. I stand up. I grab the bag. I carry it down to the building’s containers. I come back up and put a new bag in the bin. Done.

Yesterday, I placed a grocery order in the morning, then I did all of my work due for the next two days (something which on its own would normally take me 4-6 hours). Then the grocery order arrived. I put everything away, tidied up the kitchen, and chopped some vegetables to roast in the oven with some chicken (I never used to buy meat because it was too complicated to cook, or I wouldn’t be able to cook that day, and the meat would spoil before I could eat it). While it cooked, I chopped up a whole cabbage and made sauerkraut, then made three more batches of lacto-fermenting vegetables and set them all to ferment on a shelf. Then I cleaned up the kitchen. Then I ate my chicken dinner, washed up afterwards, got some exercise, showered, and had several hours left to relax and play video games before heading to bed.

In the past, getting all that done might take a week, or longer. The vegetables would have spoiled before I could start them pickling. The chicken would have been wasted. The kitchen would remain a mess. My work would get done only at the last second. I was always running out of time while also never getting anything done.

But another thing the Ritalin has made apparent is just how much I’ve been trying to do. Even with this magical medication, there is always more to do than I have time to get done. There’s so much more cleaning that needs doing. I have so many projects to work on. I have so many errands to run, so much paperwork to do, so many appointments. And until recently, I always managed to get done the most necessary things, the ones without which I wouldn’t be able to survive. I always managed to get my work done, eventually, at the last second. I managed to keep my appointments. I managed to submit my taxes (on the last possible day). But I poured so much effort and energy into it, wasted so much time struggling with it, suffered so much from the anxiety of “what if I don’t manage”, that I was miserable and exhausted all the time. It felt like the stress was slowly killing me, and it may well have been.

Now I know that I can get it all done. Eventually I’ll catch up on the housework and be able to just maintain my flat instead of constantly battling the ever-increasing mess and clutter. It’s easier to get exercise now, which makes it easier to sleep, and it’s easier to get up in the morning. I don’t waste hours lying in bed anymore. Slowly, gradually, I’m chipping away at things I’ve been putting off for years, and making progress on projects I might otherwise have abandoned.

And I’m happy. I feel happy. The pressure has lifted. The anxiety has calmed. I can do it now. The brain gremlins have gorged themselves on stimulants and passed out, and they won’t bother me again for 4-6 hours.

And all of this, all of this, is only possible because I finally realized I was transgender and transitioned. Because after 35 years of being miserable and not knowing why, I finally saw a little bit of representation that I identified with that led me to finally understanding who I am. Because I live in a country where it’s not difficult to physically transition (changing your legal gender is another question but since I’m not a citizen here that, fortunately, does not apply to me). From the day I realized I was trans and wanted to change my body, to the day I got a referral from my GP, to the day I was officially diagnosed and given permission to start HRT, was only a matter of about three months (and it would have been less if one of the doctors hadn’t been away for a few weeks).

Transitioning was the best thing that ever happened to me in so many ways. So many more ways than I ever imagined. I knew I’d be happier with my body and voice. I didn’t know my depression and anxiety would mostly disappear. I didn’t know my sex drive would change and sexual activity would become tremendously more pleasurable. I didn’t know I’d be more confident and assertive when I needed to be. And I certainly didn’t know it would help me realize I had ADHD and get proper treatment, leading to an incredibly dramatic increase in my quality of life and ability to look after myself.

I have more to say about all this, but I’ll save it for other posts. For now: trans rights, fuck terfs, fuck transphobes, trans rights, queer rights, trans rights, and praise the sun for Ritalin.

#transgender #actually adhd #transmasc #queer #lgbtqia+#ritalin #neurodivergence #actually autistic #long post #trans rights #fuck terfs #fuck transphobes

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