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ayanominitrash · 5 months

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Dowdy Dowdy (Naoya Zenin x reader)

I first posted this on Ao3 here.

"I'm here to talk to Naoya-senpai." You say, hands behind your back while staring at the ground. You can't stop the heat coming from your cheeks, coupled with your beating heart. "My next words are for him and him only." "Oh?" You look up and see that the tall senior before you have an eyebrow raised, and a hand on his hip. Where Naoya is your bully, but you love him anyway.

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A student of Jujutsu High, you were alone. You had no friends. People already assumed you're an awkward person because of that. You have helicopter parents preventing you from going outside after school, so you would be alone in your room.

But Naoya-senpai was the only one who gave you the time of day, even if he was doing it just to bully you. Imposing his misogynistic ideals and telling you how a woman should be. He'd purposely foot his foot out to trip you, and he'd smack anything you're holding in your hands, saying "oops" before he continues walking. He even went as far as dumping his drink on you because he didn't like it. You like him regardless because he was the only one you can really have a conversation with.

The others saw how badly you were treated but no one stepped up or asked you if you were okay. It's not like you were looking for pity, that was the last thing you wanted. But you find it odd that no one else seemed to join in on your abuse. They'd stray away from you when you try and approach them to ask a question. Was it because they were afraid that they'd be bullied by Naoya-senpai as well if he saw them interacting with you? He once saw a few boys plotting something sinister on you, but he'd sneer at them, making them run away in fear and never look your way again. Or, were you really that awful that your peers couldn't even stand to be in the same room as you?

That's why, your interactions with Naoya-senpai, even if it was demeaning, you valued every second of it.

You'd get to hear his deep voice, all mocking and condescending. Nitpicking everything he considers a flaw in you. But you'd listen with helpless watery doe eyes cast on the floor, wringing your thumbs together. Naoya-senpai would ask you questions, mostly about why you were like this, if you knew this or that, only to say how unintelligent you are. And yet, he keeps talking to you every day. As if it was part of his routine. As if, he was constantly thinking of you.

That's why you stay, and listen. And your beating heart races every second you spend with him. Out of fear? Or perhaps, out of fondness for the senior.

Naoya-senpai was known to be strong, smart, and excessively handsome. He'd have a different girl around his arm every now and then, and he'd show her off to you if you happen to bump into him in the hallways. Telling you she almost resembles a proper woman.

He waves a hand. "She's not much, but maybe try? At least."

And the girls around him were pretty seniors. Far from your appearance. But that doesn't deter you. Even if he was with them, he'd still talk to you.

So one day, you finally muster all of the courage you had and walk up to Naoya-senpai at his usual hang-out spot at the side of the school. Talking to him alone was probably better, but there wasn't a time when he isn't surrounded by his usual 3 friends.

"Hey, Dottie," Naoya-sama calls you by your usual nickname. He calls you Dottie because it's close to the word "dowdy", something he and everyone would always describe you as. "What do you think you're doing here? Don't you know it's inappropriate for a girl to meddle with a group of men?"

"Hey Naoya, this looks like a love confession!" One of his friends snickers, shaking your beloved senior's shoulders.

"Oh god, Naoya pulled a nerd!"

"What a slut!"

"Oh?"

You look up and see that the tall senior, before you have an eyebrow raised, and a hand on his hip.

"What do you have to say? You're wasting my time, Dottie."

"You heard him, scamper away chick."

"Get lost."

"Naoya-senpai!" You force your voice almost breaking, causing the group of men before you to quiet down.

Your hands fly from behind you and you extend them in his direction while you bow.

"I -I love you, Naoya-senpai! Please accept my feelings!"

A pause.

You waited. You waited for him to say something, or at least, pick up the drink you were offering him.

It was his favorite matcha tea drink. The one he always gets from the vending machines.

Suddenly, you hear hysterical laughter and peer up, only to find his friends laughing, but not him.

He has his beautiful golden eyes on you, a big hand over his mouth, tapping his index finger as if he was thinking of something.

"Do you hear that, Naoya?! I told you it was a love confession."

"Yow, this is crazy!"

"I can't believe it myself if I couldn't see it with my own eyes and hear it with my own ears!"

"Naoya-senapaii, oohhh, I love you! HAHAHA, man, what a joke!"

Naoya chuckles at his friends' antics, or maybe even at you, "Enough.

"Dottie, did you hit your head?"

His friends laugh again and your face pales as you retract your arms.

"N-no -"

"Did you really think I'd settle for someone like you? "

You try to swallow the lump in your throat."T-then, why would you talk to me, every day? S-surely it meant, y-you wanted - "

"What?" He scoffs. "Revolting, seriously. You must be as dense as ever. No, Dottie. I'm not interested, but maybe my friends would like to take you up on the offer?"

"Gross, dude, no!"

"What is this? Giving us hand-me-downs?"

Hands gripping tightly around the drink, you fight back the tears forming in your eyes. "I -I'm not stupid! I know you call me Dottie because I'm all frumpy and dowdy looking, but my feelings for you are real! Because -and -and, why do you make sure everyone else doesn't pick on me?! What does that mean?"

He looks at you as he tilts his head to the side as if he was dumbfounded. "Frumpy and dowdy?" He smirks. "Is that what you think?"

"You told me!"

"Hmm? I don't recall."

"Naoya-senpai -!"

"Alright, kid. Stop bothering Naoya, you're starting to get annoying."

"Scram or I'll make you."

You shoot him one last pleading look, "Naoya-senpai . . ."

He yawns. "Get out of my face."

The drink drops from your hand before you sprint away, his friends' laughter gets smaller and smaller the farther you run away as your tears finally fall down your cheeks.

You weren't stupid. You knew what he'd say.

But, you were determined to get your feelings out there. To be strong like your Naoya-senpai. But, as the tears flow down your cheeks. . .

You feel weak as ever.

After the confession, you'd think the students would laugh at you when you enter the hallways but to your surprise, they kept on walking.

Did the seniors not tell say anything about your confession?

You went on your school days as usual, alone. No one would talk to you and you'd absent-mindedly stare out the window or mess with your phone. The different thing about here is you avoid all the places you'd usually bump into Naoya-senpai. You'd eat lunch with the teachers in the faculty room. You walk the alternative path to some rooms. You'd skip out buying something from the cafeteria just to avoid him.

And when it can't be helped and you end up in the same space as him, you'll walk faster and purposely sidestep him, before he even opens his mouth. This happens a few times in a span of several weeks.

Until Naoya-senpai caught you on the rooftop after classes, under a golden sunset.

"Sorry, I'll leave."

The senior was standing in the doorway and immediately blocks your path. You freeze and you glare up at him, to which he just snickers.

"Oh? Where did that come from? Gotten a little strong since - "

"I'm sorry for bothering you. The rooftop is all yours."

You try to get past him again but he only leans an arm against the door frame, looking down at you.

"Knock it off, bitch. Can't you see I'm trying to talk to you?"

"I don't want to talk to you."

He smirks, "I thought you said you loved me?"

Your hands ball into fists at your sides.

"What's that? Do you want to hit me, Dottie?"

There's that nickname again.

"Please, I would like to leave."

"Why? But you love me. Why would you ever want to leave?"

"Let me through!"

You can stand his constant insults about your lack of intelligence and appearance, but you find it hard to stand there and hear him make fun of your feelings.

It hurts too much.

So you try and get past him again, but he grabs both of your arms in a tight grip and pulls you close in front of him.

Too close.

And he was angry. His eyes were raging boring holes into yours. For the first time, you were scared of him.

"Did you say those words just to spite me?!"

"W-wha - "

"You were lying, weren't you? You were trying to make fun of me? Me?!"

You can feel his hot breath and a few of his spit hit your face as he shouts at you, deafening. The tears start streaming from your eyes and you start to sob.

"Y-you're hurting m-me - "

"You think it'd be easy? To fool me? You're wrong, Dottie!"

"I d-don't know what you're t-talking a -about -"

"You tell me you love me, then avoid me?! Are you dense?!"

Your eyes widen as you gasp up at him. His face was red in anger. The sunset's colors paint his face along with it.

And you think, even in his rage, he looks beautiful.

"Naoya-senpai. . ."

"What do you have to say for yourself?" He asks. He's finally stopped yelling.

"You. . .rejected my feelings."

With that, he lets go of your arms. You rub them, certain that they'll leave bruises.

"You're so stupid. Of course, I did."

"And I know you'd do that."

He raises an eyebrow at you. "How so?"

"How? Because you bully me every day!"

Naoya-senpai scoffs before walking towards the fence and sits down. You follow him and sit down next to him. The two of you let silence engulf the space around you. The sunset was turning to a chilly evening and you watch as birds flock in the sky amongst the clouds. You can hear the voices from below, and laughter from children and teenagers in the streets. The busy roads. The vendors. The sound of someone dribbling a basketball.

You were listening to all of it with your Naoya-senpai beside you.

You turn your head a bit to look at him. His blond hair softly flows in the wind as he stares off into the sky. His golden eyes reflected the night's colors and what was left of the orange sunset.

He flicks his eyes down to you.

"What are you looking at?"

You immediately stare down at your lap.

"Naoya-senpai... You said you... .wanted to talk to me."

"Hmm."

You wait for him to talk more, but he said nothing else. Only the sound of the breeze greeted you.

After some time, he finally speaks.

"Gift of god."

"Huh?"

"In Greek, "Doron" means"gift" and "Theos" means "God". Thus, the word Dorothea is equivalent to the 'gift of god.'"

You give him a confused look, to which he clicks his tongue.

"You're so slow. Do you even read any books?"

"I'm sorry, I'm having trouble understanding what you want to say."

"Dottie.

Dottie is a shortened term for Dorothea. Which meaning is also, gift of god."

You gasp.

At first, from his words. Then, what he was about to do next?

He raises his hand to play with the end of your hair, almost absent-mindedly. And you can't help but feel your heart beating up in your throat.

"I have no excuse for my actions, but I do know I can't stand to end a day without speaking to you."

Your eyes widen at his words, rendering you speechless.

"You're not just messing with me, are you?"

"What?" You blinked.

"When you said what you said."

"What I said?"

His brows furrowed in annoyance, letting go of your hair. "That you loved me."

"Would I have gone through that trouble?"

Naoya-senpai leans his head into his hand as he watches you. "You know, you ought to be careful, Dottie. You can't go falling for people who are mean to you."

"Well, nobody else talks to me."

He smiles. "That's good then."

"That's good?"

He shrugs. "I have you all to myself."

You blush at his words and clutch at your chest. "Are you, toying with me again, Naoya-senpai? You can say anything about me all you want, but I can't handle you mocking my feelings."

"And what would convince you otherwise?"

You stay quiet.

"Oh? What a slut."

"I-I didn't even say anything!"

"I didn't even say anything either."

"But you -!"

"Settle down. Men don't like it when women gawk, you know."

"I don't care."

"You don't? You should if you ought to be with me."

You whip your head abruptly back at him "Huh?!"

He suddenly takes your hand in his and brought it up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss.

You felt like your heart could explode.

"Naoya-senpai. . ."

"I think you should know, that I'll only hurt you."

"I don't care." You stare up at him with determination, eyes glistening with newfound hope.

"And I'll keep being mean to you."

"I don't care."

"But I'll make sure I'm the only one who does that."

He lets go of your hand to place his on top of your head.

Your eyes grow wider, this time with your smile, "Okay."

Naoya-senpai gives you a smirk before standing up and waits for you to get up too.

You follow his lead and the two of you leave the rooftop. Before you descend the stairs, you take one last look at the scene behind you.

This is where. . .Naoya-senpai made the effort to talk to you alone. where he displayed a rare kindness towards you. At the same moment, his captivating eyes mirrored the color of the sky.

"Hurry." The senior beckons.

This was where your heart was wholly his.

And his was yours.

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(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡ reblogs and comments are appreciated//do not repost my work anywhere

i know naoya toxic and my writing and plot here was mid but I still love this anyway tbh

#zenin naoya #naoya zenin #jjk fanfic #jjk naoya #jujustu kaisen #fanfic #naoya zenin x reader #zenin naoya x reader #naoya x you #naoya zenin x you #toxic #lol what is this i pulled out of my ahh #jujutsu kaisen manga

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smartycvnt · 1 year

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The Right Time

Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Reader Summary: Rhea takes care of you after Damage CTRL attacks you.

"See what happens when you try to humiliate my girls? You're nothing Y/n. You are so low on the food chain I wouldn't let you lick my boots," Bayley said as she slammed her boot into the side of your head. You were laying in a crumpled mess on the ground as Bayley, Dakota, Iyo, and Nikki ruthlessly attacked you. Rhea wouldn't have allowed this, at least not the one you had been holding out for. Every week you hoped that she'd look your way, but it seemed like Rhea didn't care anymore. Now that you weren't waiting up for her anymore, Bayley decided to finally come after you for some comments you had made whenever she returned about her being a coward.

"What's wrong Y/n?" Dakota teased as she kicked at your ribs. You let out a particularly loud cry, having learned already the hard way that keeping it all inside wouldn't help you at all. Bayley only made them hit you harder when you tried to be strong. She wanted to break you and show you that you were nothing compared to everyone else, which was exactly what she was doing.

"I thought I told you she was off limits!" Standing tall against the group that was kicking your ass was Rhea. Behind her, you thought that you saw Bianca, Becky, and Asuka, all of whom had come to your defense before when others had tried attacking you. Bayley and her group scrambled away as the three women Rhea brought with her chased them away. Rhea came straight to you, apologizing quietly as she lifted you up into her arms to carry you somewhere safe.

"It hurts. It all hurts, and I can't make it stop. I want it to s-stop," you began to cry. Rhea just held you tighter against her body. You clung to her like she was giving you every bit of strength that you had left. In a way, she was. The fact that she saved you had to mean something, even if it only did to you. Rhea stayed by your side as the doctors assessed your injuries. Nothing was broken, but you'd be out of commission for a few weeks as your body healed up. It wasn't like you had any matches scheduled for TV or even live shows, but you'd take the time off to stay home and relax a little.

Rhea got your things from the locker room for you and took you back to your house herself. The show wasn't too far from where you lived just outside of Chicago. Rhea had booked a hotel room, but she had opted to stay the night at your place instead. She hadn't exactly asked or anything, but you knew what was happening whenever Rhea began pulling your futon out in the living room. You wanted to tell her to just share with you, but you didn't know a good way to bring it up. Rhea hadn't been that close with you since Liv came along because Liv was sort of jealous of you.

"I hope it's okay that I stay the night for a couple nights. The doctor said that you might feel worse for the next few days, so I can help you if you need it," Rhea said. You nodded as you walked over to sit down next to her. Rhea smiled at you, and for a moment, you were reminded of the girl you had met way back at the very first Mae Young Classic who had shown you better ways to do pull ups at the gym. "I'm sorry that I didn't get there sooner. You'll see why soon enough."

"Dom?" you asked. Rhea nodded, a somewhat sad look on her face. "You two look good together."

"We're not 'together' it's just complicated. He's got a lot of feelings, I guess I don't," Rhea admitted. "Not for him anyways. There's always been someone else."

"Liv?" you asked. Rhea shook her head as she looked down at your hand. It was just a few inches away from hers, and Rhea wanted to grab it so badly. "Toni?"

"God no. She's a little closer to me than either of them are right now," Rhea said nervously. You tried to decipher the clue, but it was the way Rhea watched you with anticipation that gave it away.

"Me?" Your voice cracked as you pointed at yourself. Rhea nodded as she bit her lip and shifted a little closer to you. On her knees, she was a bit taller than you. It was just enough so that she could really pull you in for the kiss. You had kissed Rhea before, but it had never felt like this. There was so much intensity in it, but she was still mindful of your bruised face. "Since when?"

"Toni says since we met, but Liv thinks it was before that. I don't know though, but I do know that I don't want to hide it anymore," Rhea said. "Dom won't like it at first, but I want you to join Judgement Day. Finn and Damian will look out for you when I can't, and we'll be able to be more open about whatever this is going to be."

"It's so weird you used to talk to your girlfriends about me," you laughed. Rhea rolled her eyes as she pulled you onto her lap.

"Exes, and they brought it up, not me. Something about me deserving to be happy with the right person, and they all thought that was you," Rhea said. You pressed a quick and chaste kiss to her lips, backing away just before Rhea got the idea to nip at you. "And I think they were right."

#wwe x reader #wwe #wwe imagine #wwe imagines #rhea ripley imagines #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley

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necros-writing-stuff · 4 months

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Read this fic. Went feral. Decided I needed to write this dynamic in my own way so here we fucking go.

Younger AU (Eden is 19, reader is 18, they're both orphans getting ready to run away into the forest soon).

Male Eden x AFAB reader (they/them and you pronouns).

Warnings: Eden is the victim, its his POV. Dubcon and bad communication. Creampies/breeding. Mentions of past child abuse and the trauma from it. Hurt and only one of you is getting comfort (it's not Eden lmfao). Loss of virginity. My ass did not proofread. Oh, and Bailey mentions.

Every ounce of his body aches as he practically crawls up the main staircase of the orphanage. A twelve hour shift at the scrap yard will do that to you - especially when you're the young grunt everyone knows is desperate for money. Especially when half of them know that if they break him, if he quits and can't placate the caretaker with cash, they could be buying his ass for a few quid.

Eden's a risk to client health. Couldn't be charging much for him unless broken bones were the desired outcome. And the young man had heard enough rumours of illegal fighting rings to be wary of the possibility that he could be heading to one of them, instead.

Eden tries to shake the fears from his mind while cracking his aching neck. Not anymore. He can't be hurt anymore, not now that he's grown so big. The rat that runs the orphanage hasn't beat him in years because of it and any threats are pretty much empty. Toward Eden, at least.

He reaches his room and stumbles through the threshold yawning, almost missing the shape distorting his bedsheets in the dark. His heart doesn't speed up seeing it, the dark haired man barely even flinches. He already knows what it is, can already hear the sniffling whines coming from below.

Carefully, he pushes the door closed, the click of the lock what finally gets them to scramble out from the cheap polyester-blend sheets with wettened wide eyes that scream for mercy even though no harm has come to them.

Your name is soft on his lips as he holds his arms out, letting his friend fall against him as he steps closer. Pride building within himself as those wide eyes sparkle with relief even if the tears don't stop.

"They- they took Emma a-again," you hyperventilate, struggling to describe what had worked you up so badly. Little words were needed anyway.

Emma was situated in the room beside you. A good friend, a kind friend who shared whatever food she could, when she could. A friend who had barely lived through the last time she was sold.

Eden's large hand comes to the back of your head, cradling it delicately, urging it to rest against his chest as he hushes his dear friend, his sweaty work t-shirt absorbing your tears as they fell. Usually he'd rock you side-to-side, but with your legs still kneeling on the bed he instead kept up with his calming mantras, the assurances he must have muttered a thousand times.

He wasn't good with words, but he'd said these ones enough that they came naturally.

A thousand more times he'd repeat them if he had to. At least until he could get you out of here. He'd been searching for the right place out in that forest, searching hard for somewhere safe. Anywhere safe.

"They're going to take me soon," you whimper, voice cracking as your fingers claw at Eden's clothed back.

"Hey - hey, no. No they won't, I'm not going to let that happen. Me and Bailey both, yeah?"

Your pitiful eyes stare up into his, his reflection in them showing the concerned frown etched into his features. Still, the corners of your lips quiver as you continue.

"I just turned eighteen. He'll come for me soon; he'll come for me like he did everyone else."

It had always been the three of you. Him, Bailey, you. Two older brothers with their sweet little sibling they did their best to hide behind them. It had worked, so far.

You were one of the quiet ones. One of the kids who could fly under the radar, one who didn't inspire hatred from the old toad behind the desk. Unlike Eden and Bailey. The threat of being sold had been over their heads for a year - but the beatings had started way before then. Made them much less scared than the others who were moved to this wing. They were already numb to it.

Corraling you to lay back down doesn't take much effort, not when Eden kicks off his steel-toe boots and joins you on the lumpy mattress. Your head immediately rests on top of his chest, face nuzzling against his neck as he continues to let you treat him as your lifeline.

"We won't be here long enough for him to hurt you, alright? I'm going to keep you safe." He whispers it against the crown of your head, your little secret shared just between the two of you in that moment.

There's a non-committal hum from you, the sound making your lips brush softly against the column of his throat. It tickles, and the dark haired man ignores the shiver it sent down his spine. Just an accidental brush.

A silence creeps in while he holds you, your sobs calming until your breaths are mostly even though still a bit shaky. Each puff blows against his skin, tugging on his nerves and threatening another shiver to come forth. It makes his stomach heavy, knowing that you're here, you're upset, yet he's having this horrible involuntary response to the affection shared.

His mind being so lost is what makes him miss your hand inching down his chest until its cupping his half-hard cock through his pants.

Deathly silence. Silence that prickles his skin worse than your little breaths had.

"... I don't want someone taking my first time from me," your small voice strains.

It's clumsy, how your hand palms him. Clumsy how it rubs against him, the friction of his rough clothes unpleasant against his sensitive flesh. It should be unpleasant how its you doing it, yet another shiver stutters Eden's lungs and forces him to gasp for the missing air.

Those soft, sweet lips meet his throat again, playing ignorant to the scratchy stubble that has to irritate the thin skin - Eden's involuntary gasp seemingly being taken as encouragement.

The young man isn't good with words. He knows to curse out abusers. Knows to fight back, to snarl and kick and punch. You aren't an abuser. You're just scared.

"You love me, right Eden?" Reedy is how you sound as your head lifts, peering down into his green eyes you had once said you thought were a pretty shade. He hadn't believed you then.

Something should be coming out of his throat. Something like 'Yes, I love you. But not like this.' What comes out instead is a clicking noise when your palm presses down once more, the dark haired man's eyes blinking shut as an ounce of pre-cum wets his boxers.

Clothes shuffling calls for his attention, it opens his eyes enough to see your hand sliding below his waistband and into his underwear. All he needs to do is gently grab your wrist. Carefully pull it away and just cuddle you so you know he cares, but he doesn't want this. Eden can't really feel his arms right now.

Your pink little tongue wets your lips again before you lean over him, kissing his slightly chapped ones as your hand finds its mark.

Another gasp from him, another misread response you take as permission to keep going and to flick your tongue against his own while your fingers wrap about his now pitifully hard cock. It's not a shiver this time, it's a jolt that makes the muscles in his left thigh seize for a brief moment.

It's hard to say if you're doing good. He hasn't exactly had any positive experiences in this department, regardless of if he was sold or not. It feels good. The heaviness in his stomach deepens, a sense of guilt and nausea rising in tandem.

Slick noises register in his ears. For a second Eden thinks its himself, or perhaps the kiss he isn't really participating in. It isn't, though, not if your weak moans are anything to go by. It's you, your free hand having disappeared beneath your own pants to... to prepare yourself for him.

"You're so big, Eden." Irreverent, whispered, praised.

Tightness pulls on his balls, licks of pleasure making his toes curl in their socks and making it harder to breathe. His mouth is so dry now, without you kissing him. He shouldn't want your mouth back on his own.

'Please be bored,' Eden pleads to himself when you pull yourself fully away from him. 'Please change your mind - I don't care about still being hard. I can't say no to you, please.'

Instead, your pants are shucked off, thrown and discarded on the old hardwood floor along with your shirt as you get to work pulling his clothes off.

Every action has to be involuntary. It has to be, when Eden doesn't even feel like he's here. He can't be leaning up to help you in your quest to make his chest bare. But he is. He can't be raising his hips to free his legs of the clothing. But he is.

Unsteadily, your body shaking, you climb atop Eden, the plush of your thighs pressing down onto his lower abdomen and hips. So soft, so precious. Just like the smile you're aiming down at him, that love you spoke of shining so clearly through your expression.

He can see the wetness of your cunt from here, the slick liquid having spread to your thighs and dampening the hair down there. Most people shave now, when they're expecting things like this. A small comfort, that you didn't plan this. It didn't stop self hatred banging around his skull at how his cock jumped when your fingers spread your lower lips apart.

It feels as soft as it looked when you slowly sink down. Eden was still paralysed, despite the intensity of your heat and how it suctioned him in. He still couldn't move. Until you whined in pain and rose from his lap an inch or two.

That's the trigger that gave him his strength back. You, in pain. You, needing comfort.

Shooting up from his laying position, Eden's arms were around your waist in a second, his voice back to hushing and comforting. Your face back to his neck as you hummed along to his words, relaxing once more as you tried again.

He should stop you. He could have stopped you, this time. He shouldn't have pushed his hips up, shouldn't have let his eye twitch at how fucking good you felt wrapped around his shaft as some part of his brain screamed at him to fuck up into the heaven he found himself in.

The guilt stayed his movements. It stayed them until you cautiously began to bounce, used to the stretch of him now and eager to feel good. Then, Eden's arms almost crushed you against his chest, halting your hips as his own began a bucking rhythm.

'Let it feel right,' part of him insisted, raising the pit in his stomach to a calm plateau.

Pretty is what your voice sounds like in his ear. Pretty as you babble on about how nice it is, how he fills you just right and how you won't let anyone else ever touch you again. How you're his, you promise.

It's not a bad thing, right? It just means you'll always need him, just as you have before. You'll be a constant even as things change. And Eden hates change. But this isn't really change, is it?

It feels too damn good to last long. Too great, too much suction pulling his head further and further away from any semblance of reason.

Wanton noises spill from you, high pitched keening as you take every inch of him you can while your body quivers in his embrace.

What finally pushes Eden over the edge is the predictable, suffocating ever tightening walls of your cunt spasming around him - massaging his length and milking him dry of his seed. Too late now to realise you hadn't used a condom. Too late now to consider that a third might be coming to the forest with them that isn't Bailey.

Exhaustion hits him like a truck, not just his body, but a deep haze over his mind that pushes him back down to his pillow with your sweat glistening body falling on top of his own. The ceiling is so bare. Most ceilings are, he realises, just white voids to stare up at unless they've got that horrible popcorn shit on them. You haven't pulled him out of you.

You don't pull him out of you. You keep him there, even as you snuggle close and almost sing your love to him despite the fact that you're whispering still.

He has work again in the morning. Eden can't sleep. You snore softly, resting on top of him. He tries to reason that it's because his socks are still on, and that's just not comfortable. He tries to keep his breathing calm, even when it's trying it's best to run away from him.

#spill my guts #eden the hunter #degrees of lewdity #necro's fics #afab reader #cw dubcon #younger au

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kerubimcrepin · 25 days

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Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 21]

I've already said how weird this whole situation is from Joris's pov, but imagine dying, being given a new body with a way smaller brain and no speech yet, as well as no object permanence, and having to comprehend while in this condition, that your brother, who spent the last 50–80 years trying to hunt you down and make you into a coat, just saved your son from being blown up, and is now dying.

But you lack the brain capacity to understand any of that. Or remember any of that history.

You just know that he's hurt, badly, and that you don't like seeing him in pain.

Joris knows now, that for an ecaflip demigod, it's not that big of a deal to die. At least not the first time.

So it's really more of a "You sacrificed yourself for me?" question.

He's paying back his debt. He can't be mean to Joris, when all he's done is be nice to him, he's not that kind of person.

And when he wakes up again, things will be different, between him and Kerubim. Something new is going to happen.

To quote Dofus Aux Tresors de Kerubim: It will have a different taste. A different feel.

Kerubim's current lack of object permanence or the idea of death, is both a blessing and a curse, because he has no fucking idea what happened, or where Atcham went. Poor kbitty.

On one hand, this is inherently traumatic for Joris. He must be tired of watching ecaflip demigods evaporate.

On the other hand, I can't help but feel that this is the moment Joris and Atcham truly begin to love one another. So I can't even feel sad about this moment, like a normal person.

Chat, this is what I cal coping and perhaps even seething. Joris is inclined to think Bakara is wrong because Bakara fucked up Majorly at this part of the movie. Also because Joris has not slept the entire night. Also because he watched 2 people die. Also Simone is far away. Also what IS Simone to do with a dofus-related issue?

Julith would absolutely have hurt Lilotte. There is absolutely not a single doubt in my mind, that if it got her what she wanted, she would dismember Lilotte as Joris watched.

I don't blame him for making mistakes and fumbling, though. He's like 10.

If she really isn't that bad... If ALL she wants to do, is to bring Jahash back... If that's what it takes for her to leave Lilotte and Kerubim alone...

And among all else, if this brings the man she loves back? He doesn't mind, then.

(Puts on a giant, Dofus Aux Tresors de Kerubim themed tinfoil hat)

Joris is a difficult character to read due to his insane multitudes and affinity for lying to everyone and himself.

Due to his passion for wanting to learn about his birth parents, I think spending time with Julith and Jahash is like a dream to him.

But I can't miss the dimension in this interaction that Julith is a scary dark mage called "the butcher", who already killed his father once and then kidnapped his friend, and they are both standing near her, behind him, and she is holding what is essentially the magical equivalent of a nuclear bomb in her hands.

And the things he says to her may or may not be affected by like, idk, two or three of these factors? Like there might be a slight possibility that he said "I'm sure she wouldn't have hurt you" and "a real family" specifically to decrease the chances of her killing Kerubim and Lilotte. Not sure where I get this idea from, though.

This is literally the worst day in Kerubim's life as a father. There is literally no going back. Thank god his little kittybrain is going to forget all about this in roughly 3 minutes.

#ro liveblogs dofus #dofus #wakfu #krosmoz #dofusmovie #joris jurgen

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cat-mentality · 6 months

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Don't blame me, blame this post from @thesmpisonfire.

This is just a study on the possible worst case scenarios, they will be posted as reblogs and let it be known that I kissed consistency in my writing style goodbye a long time ago.

Tallulah

You could hear a pin drop on the train station's floor. For once a gathering of most of the Islanders is marked by a deep uncomfortable silence, no one is talking, no one is joking around, they are all standing by themselves or on small groups, even Foolish is uncharacteristically quiet, all tense shoulders and clenched hands, none of his usual mirth present on his face.

They all knew what was happening the moment the French were called to the train station.

It's time for another sick game of the mysterious figure responsible for taking their children. Fit was the first to be called, no one knew what the fuck was happening, what they should be expecting, nervous energy made them talk their heads off that time, sharing theories, trying to not drown on how scared they were.

Fit came back with Pomme.

And also with tales of tests and danger and fighting to save her. She lost a life in the process, he confessed to her parents as they hugged the crying little girl, and the already tense atmosphere got even worse as they all realized that Pomme was the only child allowed that mercy.

They all know now that there is a chance their children will be lost. That their life is in the hands of someone else, that there is nothing they can do but wait and pray.

When they hear the train approaching the air gets heavier, suffocatingly so.

The train stops.

The doors open.

No one leaves.

No one breathes.

Finally after what feels like a century Etoiles leaves the train.

He is crying.

No one has ever seen him cry before, most didn't think he was capable of it.

That is how they know.

Baghera comes next and she looks shell-shocked, like someone who has just experienced hell beyond comprehension. Her hands are clenching something red.

All parents are holding their breath, desperation marking the atmosphere.

Pierre is the last one to leave, Antoine having stayed behind to look after Pomme, and he is carrying a small body in his arms, tenderly wrapped in what looks like a hastily crafted blanket. His expression is unreasonable but his arms are shaking.

No one dares to step forward. They can't, rooted to the spot, fear gripping their hearts, squeezing their lungs. They can't make out anything from the body, they don't know who is about to lose part of their hearts.

"I'm sorry."

Etoiles' voice is rough, his accent thicker than they ever heard.

He is looking straight at Philza.

No one dares to say anything, no one would ever be so heartless, but the relief of everyone else is palpable.

"No." Philza's voice shakes, he takes a step back, shaking his head "No. No. No."

"I'm sorry Philza." Etoiles says again, pleading

"We tried." Baghera's voice sounds distant, as if she is somewhere far away, her hands still gripping something "We tried so hard. We were so close."

"No. No."

"Who?" Missa speaks for the first time, his hands are shaking as he leans against a wall as if that is the only thing keeping him upright, his voice barely over a whisper

They realize, maybe for the first time in this mess, that Philza has two children to lose. That even if Etoiles is speaking to him they don't know which of the children is under that blanket.

"It's Chayenne right?"

Wilbur's voice cuts the silence and all heads turn to him. His voice is shaking as badly as Missa's and tinged deeply with desperation, his hands gripping his own sweater so hard the fabric is tearing.

"It's Chayenne?" He asks again when the silence stretches more, stepping forward

"Her lungs..." Baghera speaks as if she didn't hear any of them "The air was so bad, it was so hard to breathe, there was so much smoke. She couldn't... Her asthma."

Wilbur lets out an inhuman noise.

Forever has to be supported by Pac as he stumbles, losing all his strength.

"No." Philza says again, gripping his head "This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real."

"I'm so sorry." Etoiles repeats again, as if those are the only words he remembers "I'm so sorry."

"This isn't real." Philza almost screams, his grip on his own hair is so strong he is tearing it out "Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up...."

Philza starts to hit his own head, repeating the same words over and over again, tears streaming down his face. Etoiles steps forwards, unsteady on his feet in a way most of them have never seen, and with shaking hands he struggles with Philza until he manages to capture his hands pulling the blonde man to his arms, half a hug half a restraining action.

Philza let out a pained scream, something gutural, from the bottom of his soul, he struggles in Etoiles' grip but it seems like all his strength is gone and he collapses against the Frenchman sobbing as Etoiles adjusts so he is supporting all of his weight.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry" Etoiles keeps chanting, slipping into french halfway through but the feeling is too easy to understand

"Tallulah" Wilbur lunges forward, unstable on his feet as if he forgot how to walk, tears streaming down his face "Lulah...Lulah...."

No one knows what to do. No one moves, no one dares to breathe too loudly. Philza is screaming in grief, the sound muffled by Etoiles' armor, Forever has collapsed to the ground, Pac following him in order to offer comfort, Missa is still leaning against the wall, tears fall down from behind his mask but there is a distinct lack of tension on his shoulders, Roier leans against him, a silent reassurance.

But no one knows Wilbur enough for that, to offer him this comfort, not anymore, not after months and months and the horrors scattered in between.

They can just watch as he stumbles forward until he reaches Pierre, he stops extending his hands as if he wants to touch but he just hovers over the blanket trembling so much.

"My niña... My niña..." He whispers voice shocked and raw, finally lowering his hands enough to touch

That is what breaks him.

Wilbur lunges again, arms around his daughter as if he is trying to hold her one last time, Pierre allows him to take Tallulah from him, hovering over Wilbur's shoulder as the man holds his daughter's body like one would hold a baby.

It's probably the worst thing they ever saw.

Wilbur collapses, cradling Tallulah to his chest, sobbing so hard it's almost impossible to make out his words. It takes them a moment to realize he is attempting to sing.

"I have to wake up, I have to wake up" Philza still can be heard as Etoiles holds him for dear life, voice shattered "This can't be real, this can't be real."

"I'm sorry Philza. I'm sorry." Etoiles replies back over and over, tears still cascading down his own face

They don't know how long they stay there, static and joined in their grief, in their fear. Their children could be the next. They could be the next.

So they stay. They watch as Philza breaks in Etoiles' arms, as the warrior begs forgiveness over and over again, as Wilbur cries and cries telling his daughter everything he thought he would have time to do.

That is probably the worst part of it all- Tallulah is gone before she could feel her father's arms around her, before she could hear him apologizing for leaving, before she could finally hear him say that he loved her. All the things the little girl longed so hard to have and all that is left to receive it is as a cold body wrapped in a blanket.

Too little, too late one could say.

#i was going to do a single post but damn it would have been LONG #so in the reblog it goes #i was supposed to finish this like ages ago #but life (and the fever) kicked my ass #qsmp #qsmp fic #qsmp tallulah #qsmp wilbur #qsmp philza #qsmp french

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muddyorbsblr · 2 years

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secret notes part 8: send me the moon

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: It's your final live show as The Lonely Avenger and the whole team is there to finally see the one behind the voice. Including Loki.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: 2 curse words; other than that, nothing…this is a fluffy story with a fluffy ending [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: the last scene's a little hot…like 0.5/5 spicy

"Could you two drop me off near Groove instead of at the Tower?" you asked Clint as you were on your way back to New York, the mission going off without much complication, or bloodshed. You left those guards still breathing, after all, so really there were no casualties on this mission, and as far as you were concerned, that was an absolute win.

"Does this have something to do with the invite that was forwarded to me while you were in their base?" he asked you, a smirk playing on his face. "You wanna get the jump on everyone else, finding out who Laufeyson's bird is before we even get there? Vet the girl, make sure that she's good enough for Mr Horns?"

"Not exactly," you answered with a smirk of your own. "More like I have to do sound checks. For my live show." That made him slam his hand on the Autopilot button and stare at you with eyes as wide as saucers, making Natasha laugh from her co-pilot seat. "Surprise, Hawkeye. It's me. I'm the bird. Caw caw."

"How did I not see that coming?" He eyed Natasha, who you had no doubt was smirking and snickering to herself. "I'm assuming you already knew about this, Tasha?"

"I've known for months," she said casually. "Wanda and I watched her first live show. Morgan knows, too."

"Hold on how'd you get Morgan to not tell Tony?!" You mumbled Natasha's promise to the tiny Stark that kept her from spilling your secret. "Sorry, birdy, what was that?"

"Nat promised her that she'd be the flower girl at the wedding," you enunciated every syllable, making him chuckle. "Oh, and by the way. Thor knows, too." She turned her now wide eyed gaze towards you. "He baited me with a singing meme and I was caught off guard. I suppose by now he knows that I intend to tell everyone anyway so I'm trusting that he's keeping his mouth shut around Mischief."

"Aww, babes, it's really happening, huh?" She grabbed your hand and lightly swung it. "It's like the end of an era."

"Yeah. By the end of the day there'll be egg on my face because Loki's finally gonna know how stupid in love I am with him, and that's it. That's the end of me."

"At the risk of you stabbing me, Y/N, I gotta say it. I think you're an idiot if you actually believe that things would end badly if Horns knows how you feel about him. I saw you two before you boarded the Quinjet; that's a man in love. God. That's a god in love. Whatever happens in the live show, I'd put money on all this ending with you singing a whole new set of notes in his apartment that none of us ever want to hear. I don't think even Tony has the money to cover the therapy we'd need if we hear that."

You smacked him upside the back of his head. "Dork." He gave you a shrug as if to say eh, you're not wrong, which made you chuckle. "Just drop me off near Groove, please." You placed a hand on Nat's shoulder. "And please make sure that he actually goes to the live show? If I'm going to rip off a bandaid, I'd prefer to rip it all the way off in one move."

"I'll have Thor drag him out if I have to," she promised, placing her hand over yours. "Don't look so nervous, babes. Everything's gonna be fine. More than fine." She tilted her head to address Clint. "We should probably all stay out of the tower for a few hours once they exit the bar. You know, so we don't have to charge Stark's account for therapy."

By the time that Natasha and Clint returned to the Tower, the team was already buzzing with bets on who it could be, most of them already gathered around the common area clearly dressed for a party. The Russian spy made a beeline for Wanda, looking like a Christmas ornament in her sparkly red dress.

"Anyone on to our girl?" she whispered to the sorceress.

"Just Thor…he's been hinting at it since Tony found the invite."

"That's because Thor knows. Baited Y/N with a meme the morning before we left. Anyone else?"

"I think Rhodey knows, too. But he's been suspicious since before the first live show, so I can't be too sure. You two should go get changed, we're just waiting for--"

"Ah, there he is! Brother! Are you excited to finally know the identity of your lark?"

Natasha looked at the stairs, her eyes widening once she'd seen the effort that Loki put into his look for your show, wearing a form-fitting dress shirt set in his "old faithful" shade of green tucked into tight slacks that had her questioning if he would be able to even sit down without ripping open a seam, and a pair of black Oxfords. It was obvious that he spent a considerable amount of time on his hair, too, styled in a half bun that had a few loose tendrils framing his face, trying to look effortless but anyone who knew how much effort that really took knew that he spent at least 20 minutes trying to get that down right, even with his magic.

He looked over to where she and Clint were standing, his gaze searching for someone clearly absent. "Where's Y/N?"

Natasha defaulted to her classic excuse for you. "Had to run an errand." He nodded at the answer, a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth. "Said she'll meet us at Groove instead."

Another twenty minutes later and they were on their way to the bar, already filled to the brim with people buzzing about your identity as the unmistakable sound of your voice overflowed out of the bar and well into the queue of people hoping to be let inside.

Once Natasha and Wanda walked up to the door, the guards let them through, along with the rest of the team, and they were all escorted toward the front of the stage, where they waved at the sight of you on stage, wearing an off-shoulder little black dress that fell just short of mid-thigh and strappy gold heels.

"WOOOO LET'S GO Y/N!!" Sam shouted as he made his way through the crowd, making you chuckle in the middle of your song. "That's my friend right there!" he hollered as he clapped his hands, causing the rest of the crowd to clap along with him.

"I'll wait for the day when we finally say now or never Until then I'll be here wanting more as I settle for atmosphere"

As you began the final chorus of Send Me the Moon by Sara Bareilles, you noticed that nearly all of the team already sat in the area you had reserved for them, noting some of them trying to covertly pass around the money that they lost when they were placing bets on your identity all those months ago.

Surprisingly, the money was split between Sam and Bucky.

You shook your head slightly at their antics and returned your focus to the rest of the crowd, your roaming gaze stopping short at the sight of Loki two feet away from the stage, looking up at you with such a venerational relief in his eyes it nearly made your knees buckle.

As you finished the song, and you took in the applause, and the standing ovation from your team along with the wolf whistles from your girl friends, a smile began to grace his features as he mouthed, "It's you."

You could feel a tugging at your heart, as if your world was about to crumble, but you no longer cared. Whatever happened, even if everything were to fall apart at your feet today, you'd be fine. You'd rebuild from whatever you had left. Your experiment was done, the resolution from the beginning of the year a hilarious failure. And yet, you knew in your heart that you could recover from this.

It was that resolve that had you returning his smile with one of your own, a bit more somber, as if you'd come to make peace with an impending loss. "It's me," you mouthed back.

As the applause faded, you looked into the audience once more and spoke into the mic. "Hi. I'm Y/N Y/L/N. And this will be the last song I sing as The Lonely Avenger."

"What's gonna happen to your channel?" Sam's voice boomed from the crowd.

You shrugged in your team's direction. "I suppose I'm just gonna change it to my name. Can't exactly be anonymous anymore," you answered with a chuckle. "Maybe I'll do some drunk challenges with Nat and Wanda."

"THAT'S OUR GIRL!!" Wanda chirped up from her seat, making you giggle at her enthusiasm.

"Anyways…" You raised your iced tea perched on a stool nearby toward the crowd. "To The Lonely Avenger."

Most of the crowd raised their glasses and repeated your sentiment. You heard Tony shout "to jellybean", while the rest of the team shouted "to Y/N". What had you confused was Thor's sentiment, as his distinct voice rang louder than the buzzing of the audience. "To my sister."

You turned your gaze to the band and they began to play out your final song: "Tell Me" by He Is We.

"Take a video, Wan. We'll wanna go back to this moment one day," Natasha instructed the sorceress. She quickly took out her phone and began recording you singing your final song as the anonymous Lonely Avenger, switching the camera's focus back and forth between you on the mic and Loki's reactions to your performance.

"Eyes can only see so far Tired of wishing on Northern Stars So I close my eyes and pray Nothing comes to mind so I let my heart say Tell me don't give up…"

As you finished the song, Wanda made a motion to turn off the video but Nat's whispered "not yet" made her keep recording, and she watched with wide eyes and a slacked jaw as Loki walked up to the stage, his hand outstretched up toward you.

"Take his hand, babes!" Nat hollered, cheering as you walked over to the edge of the stage, placing your hand in his. She and Wanda where all out squealing the second her brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles.

"For fuck's sake, Bambi, kiss her!" Tony spoke through cupped hands.

Thor started clapping thunderously as you placed your hands on Loki's shoulders and he placed his hands on your hips and lifted you from the stage, setting you back down in front of him. On a whim, Wanda used her magic to point the mic toward you.

"My lark. My Y/N." Wanda held back her squeals as he brought his hands up to frame your face. "My love."

The whole bar erupted into cheers as he leaned down and laid his lips on yours, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close to him and causing you to place your arms on his shoulders.

"Ladies and gentlemen, The Lonely Avenger!!" a new voice announced as a man walked up the stage, encouraging a fresh round of applause from the crowd. "I for one am glad to see this turn of events. Who isn't a sucker for a good happy beginning?"

A murmured voice escorting you backstage to the green room was heard through the speakers, giving Wanda the cue to stop recording. Although she immediately regretted turning the camera off once she saw the unmistakably mischievous grin on the god's face as he wrapped his arm around your waist and lifted you off your feet, walking you both towards the aforementioned room with a little twirl of your dress.

"Dammit this means I owe Morgan a hundred bucks," Tony muttered, making the sorceress turn an incredulous gaze toward him.

"Tony, Morgan knows," Natasha told him, making the billionaire's eyes widen in pure disbelief. "Since before Y/N's first show. She's the one who told Wanda."

"Duped by my own daughter," he muttered. "Is it weird that I'm proud of her?" The team shook their heads as he turned to look at the blonde Asgardian. "And why did you forfeit, Point Break? You would've won."

"I found out before Lady Y/N left for her mission with the assassins."

"WHAT?!" the remainder of the team all but yelled in unison, proceeding to ask the god about the hows of it all.

The moment the door to the green room closed, Loki cradled your head with one hand and had your body trapped between him and the door, his other hand now resting on your side, thumb gently stroking your stomach. "My darling," he said softly, the brilliant smile on his face never fading as he leaned in and pressed his lips to your exposed neck.

He proceeded to trail his lips down to the base of your throat and across your collarbone, humming a sound of contentment against your skin as he kept on murmuring your name between kisses. Your breathing became erratic as you gasped for air, your heaving chest pressing your skin even more against his lips.

You let out a hybrid between a squeak and a moan as he placed his hands on the back of your thighs, adjusting his hold on you and making you wrap your legs around him, giving you a flashback to earlier this year when he did the exact same motion to help you reach your mug at the top shelf. He trailed his kisses up to your lips once more, claiming your mouth with his at a languid, decadent pace. As if you had all the time in the world. You couldn't help but to sigh against him, allowing yourself for just a moment to be content with what was happening.

"I love you," he mumbled against your lips, pressing one more tender kiss upon them before pulling away, his grin one of obvious repletion, before spotting the look of consternation on your face and his expression quickly faded into one of concern. "What's wrong, dear heart?"

"Do…do you love me or…"

"Oh, my darling mortal," he whispered as he cupped your face and pressed a frantic kiss to your lips. "I love you, Y/N. I've loved you long before you first sang under that moniker. Long before Stark's party." He pressed his lips against yours once more and you could feel your body physically weaken the moment both felt and heard him moan against your mouth. "I will tell you in the plainest words I can find, my love. I am maddeningly in love with you, Y/N. And I wish for you to be mine."

"I'm yours," you said in a breathy exhale, unable to breathe as you felt his lips latch on to a particularly sensitive spot between your neck and shoulder and proceeded to lightly suck on the skin. "I've--fuck--I've always been yours." He had you arching into his kiss once his lips moved lower, playing at the neckline of your dress, just above your heart. "Please…please, Loki, I need--"

"I know, my darling," he cut you off, pressing his body harder against yours, muffling your moans with another kiss to your lips. "I know. But I do not wish for our first time together to be in the back room of a bar. You deserve more than that." He once again peppered kisses up the column of your neck. "You deserve to be worshipped. Savored. For hours. Days, even." Your breath hitched at the very thought of being at his mercy for hours, let alone days. "Just say the words, my love. Say them and I will make it so. You would be mine to do with as I please, and I yours."

He pulled away from you with a final kiss to your jaw, making you arch toward him again, silently begging him to resume his attentions. He didn't. Instead he simply stroked your cheek with his thumb, causing you to lean in to his touch.

"I won't kiss you again until you say them, darling," he teased. "So say them and allow us both our rapture."

"I love you," you all but shouted, the evident desperation in your voice making him bite his lip as he smirked at you. You took a breath, trying to calm yourself. "I love you, Loki." He smiled, leaning in until your lips were barely touching. "Make me yours."

"With pleasure, my darling Y/N," he said with a soft kiss to your lips. "You must know, my love. You've never been alone. You have me. You've always had me." His next kiss felt like a promise, as if he was casting a spell that sealed your fates together in that single kiss. "Shall we?"

"Just lemme get my things," you said breathlessly. With a wave of his hand, your bag disappeared from the table in a flash of green. "We should at least tell the team we're leaving."

"I believe they're aware. Or they should have surmised by now that we do not intend to return to their company for a while," he answered with a smirk. "I'm sure by now my brother's told the staff that we've most likely disappeared from this room and it's safe to enter once more, so I believe our next move is to do precisely that."

"You have to put me down, you know," you said with a giggle. "You can't just lug me around like a weird captive koala."

"I won't lug you around anywhere like a small furry animal. I intend to hold the woman I love in my arms; I will put you down only once there is a bed in our vicinity. Not a moment sooner." He pulled your body closer to his, securing his hold on you before pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. "Close your eyes, my love," he whispered in your ear. You did exactly that.

When he told you to open them you were no longer in the green room; rather you were in an opulent bedroom with a central motif of marble and a faded shade of gold. Looking at the view from the balcony you could tell that you were still within New York, but this was definitely not the Tower. "Mischief? Where are we?" You looked at his face and your breath hitched at the simpering look on his face.

"I took the liberty of acquiring us some accommodations for the week." The week? Your breathing thinned as he walked over to the bed, gently laying you down upon it. "Did you truly think I would bring you back to my chambers? Where my brother could so easily barge in like the brutish oaf he often is? That I would have my fill of you after one night?" He kissed his way down to your clothed stomach, before lightly grasping one of your legs and pressing a searing kiss to the back of your knee. "My darling, if you did, you've sorely underestimated how desperately I have longed for you."

You had no words left in you except, "A week?"

"Only because that is all I could manage without starting a war with our dear Captain over monopolizing your time, and leaving our team short of two resources at once," he answered you simply. "So, my lark…" He kissed the back of your knee once more before slowly crawling up your body. "My darling Y/N…" He kissed the exposed skin of your chest, just above your heart. "My love…" He captured your lips in a slow, sensual kiss that left you breathless. "Shall we begin?"

A/N: I can't believe the series is already over, but that's it. That's the end of the main story of 'secret notes'! I hope y'all enjoyed going on this ride with me and in true 'me' fashion, this isn't really the end. Outtakes will come…I don't know when but I know they are happening.

But more importantly…it means that I have my schedule all clear for the collab series I've been talking about, and I can finally reveal that my fellow writer for this is none other than @mochie85!!

Taglist:

Everything: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

Loki: @calumance @severuslovebot

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #muddyorbs writes

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myreygn · 5 months

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All's well that ends well

summary: Bachira is on a pranking rampage and Chigiri is collateral damage. That wouldn't be such a big deal if the day couldn't have gotten any worse already, but luckily Kunigami is there to get everything back on track.

an: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @giggly-squiggily AGAIN HERE IS YOUR BELATED BIRTHDAY GIFT! i'm hitting myself hard for not getting this out sooner but it's here now and i hope you like it! stay wonderful and next year i'll try the whole being on time things again <3

wordcount: 1969

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Practice was going great. At least Kunigami kept telling himself that over and over again, although believing it got harder with every missed pass, every flunked goal shot and every frustrated groan behind his back. They were all kinda off today and if it had just been that, he wouldn’t have minded as much. Of course having a bad day was annoying, especially when it seemed to be contagious to everyone else as well, but bad days were normal and they could easily be fixed by a hot shower and a good night’s sleep.

However, it wasn’t just a bad day. In fact, Bachira was having a great day. Apparently their dribbler had had a clown for breakfast and it showed; so far he had swapped Igarashi’s clothes with Iemon’s, put toothpaste under the door knob for Naruhaya to grab into, changed Gagamaru’s alarm to a death metal version of Baby Shark, and tied Raichi’s shoelaces together, twice. He was on a roll and while everyone was certainly on their toes, Bachira had yet to go on their very last nerve. Emphasis on yet.

A startled yelp caught his attention and Kunigami didn’t even bother watching as the ball flew past the goal, turning around instead. Chigiri held a bottle in his hand, the front of his shirt and his chin drenched in water. Looking a little closer, Kunigami saw that the lid had been unscrewed. Their resident team princess was apparently the newest victim of Bachira’s prank spree and he was not having it. Oh yeah, practice was going amazing.

“What the hell, Bachira!”

“Sorry, sorry! I thought this was Isagi’s!” In Bachira’s defense, he did seem shocked. Kunigami didn’t doubt for a second that he was telling the truth; Chigiri’s day had started off badly enough with his hair do loosening every ten minutes and after he had literally tripped over his own feet during warm up, face planting into the field at full speed, the team had unanimously decided to just leave him alone for the time being. And Bachira would never purposefully make a bad day worse, they all knew that. Unfortunately, Chigiri seemed to have forgotten about that in his annoyance.

“Amazing, thanks, that’ll definitely dry my clothes.”

“I know it won’t, I just-”

“You just wanted to test my patience, I get it! Because my day went so great up until now!”

“Chichi, I didn’t mean to-”

“Yeah well, you did! And don’t call me that!” The redhead’s glare made Kunigami go weak in the knees and it wasn’t even directed at him. “If you stopped playing these stupid pranks, shit like this wouldn’t happen! You’re not funny, just cut the crap already!”

“Woah, hey!” Isagi took a step forward as if to shield Bachira. “Chigiri-”, but Chigiri had already grabbed his things and stormed off.

The silence in the hall dragged on for an uncomfortable five seconds before Gagamaru softly cleared his throat. “Let’s call it a day. Bachira, do you, uh…”

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t, but the dribbler turned away before any of them could comment on his quivering lip. “Sorry, I’ll just… I think I’m gonna lie down for a bit. Sorry, really.”

With that he was out the door and the rest of the team exchanged glances, then Isagi nodded slightly and quickly got up to go after Bachira. Iemon jumped upright as well, shooing his teammates away. “Alright, go and hit the showers, you reek!” The boys gathered their things and upon one last exchange of glances, Kunigami slipped out of the room to go and look for Chigiri.

—

He found the princess in the recording room, sitting in the corner that was the farthest away from the door, curled up with his head buried in his arms and just seeming overall miserable. On second glance, Kunigami noticed his shoulders shaking ever so slightly and he even caught a sniffle. Alright, approach with caution.

“Hey.” He quietly closed the door after himself, making the screens’ bluish shine the only source of light in the room, and carefully stepped closer. “Is this seat taken?”

Nothing, not even a huff of reluctant amusement and Kunigami felt himself deflate a little. Dumb jokes like this usually made Chigiri downright cackle, he had to be really upset if he wasn’t even gonna acknowledge it. Still, he also showed no signs of wanting to be left alone, so Kunigami sat down next to him, not touching him yet. “So… that was not excellent.”

No answer. The hero frantically tried to think of something to say that would get through to his friend when he caught a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. It was hard to make out in the dim light, but… “Are you in pain?”

A shivery breath was the only response he got, but he wasn’t just gonna drop this. Kunigami sat up straighter and put his hand on Chigiri’s which had tightened its grip on his bad knee. “Hey, Chigiri, look at me. If you’re in pain, you need to tell me.”

The most anxiety-inducing three seconds of his life later, the smaller boy finally lifted his head and relaxed his hand a little. “I’m not hurt.” Despite the tear stains on his face, Kunigami felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. Then Chigiri looked down again. “I was just scared I would be.”

Kunigami felt his heart clench a little at the quietness of his voice, but at least he was talking to him now. “What do you mean?”

“I was scared it’d start to hurt after I fell.” The redhead wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and Kunigami couldn’t help but feel a little good at Chigiri letting his guard down around him like that. “My knee is fine, I just… the entire time I kept thinking ‘What if it isn’t?’ and I got really anxious and I guess I kinda…”

Chigiri let the sentence trail off to silence and Kunigami nodded slightly. “You were tense and the thing with the water bottle was just the last drop.” That got him a quiet huff - still well below the average reaction, but he wasn’t gonna complain. A win was a win, however small. Next step. “That wasn’t okay, you realize that, right? I mean, I get it, but Bachira didn’t target you on purpose. And I think what you said really took a toll on him.”

Chigiri’s expression morphed into some kind of mortified guilt and Kunigami quickly put an arm around him, pulling him a little closer in the process. God, he was tense. “Isagi went after him, don’t worry. You obviously feel awful about this, I didn’t mean to make it worse, sorry. Just go apologize, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

The redhead nodded, drying the last remaining tears. “I wanted to do that anyway… I wanted to take back everything as soon as I left, but then I had to cry and I went here to calm down, but then it just got worse being all alone, and… thank you for coming, really.”

Kunigami smiled, softly caressing his teammate’s back. “Anytime, princess.”

“Shut up.” Chigiri flashed him a weak smile and sat up straight, stretching his arms. “Guess I should go apologize.”

“Oh no, not yet.”

“Huh? Why d- ehehehehey!”

Kunigami’s smile turned into a smirk at the way Chigiri immediately curled into himself as soon as he felt the fingers on his ribs, pressing his arms to his side and trying in vain to get away, but the taller boy just wrapped his free arm around him and pulled him back, not stopping the soft tickling of his ribs for even a moment. “You wanted to calm down first, didn’t you? You’re still as stiff as a poker, I can’t let you face Bachira like that.”

“Whahahahat dohohoes thahahahat hahahave toho dohoho wihihith tihihicklihihing mehehehe- aehehehe heheheherohoho!”

“Yes, princess?” He wormed his fingers under Chigiri’s arm and almost let out a giggle himself at the squeal that got him. He was careful not to be too rough however; he wanted Chigiri to relax, not perish. “Something the matter?”

“Yohohohou’re ahahaha jeheheherk, thahahahat’s the mahahahatter!”

“Tsk.” Kunigami gripped him a bit tighter and softly grazed a single finger over his knee, causing Chigiri to shriek and kick out. “I come here to cheer you up and this is the thanks I get? Such disrespect?”

“Kuhuhuhunihi, nahahaht thehehehe! Ihihihit tihihickles tohohoo muhuhuhuch!”

“That’s because you’re too ticklish, my lady.” Another soft scratch to the knee and Chigiri threw his head back, full on cackling now. “I’m barely touching you.”

“AEHEHE- heheherohoho, plehehehease!”

“Alright, alright.” Kunigami chuckled softly and released his teammate, softly wiping a laughing tear away with his thumb and caressing his back to help through the after-giggles. The tension had faded. Mission accomplished. “You good?”

“Yeheah… mahan, you suck.” Chigiri shook his head with a smile, then grabbed Kunigami’s extended hand to stand up with him. “Thanks again.”

“Of course. Now come on, let’s go. Make everything right again.”

—

Making everything right again was often a task easier said than done.

When they entered the room, Kunigami’s gaze immediately fell on Bachira’s futon. The dribbler said there with his legs crossed, slumped over and fiddling with his hands, not even looking up when the door opened. The ginger felt Chigiri tense next to him and he gently squeezed his hand, mouthing ‘You can do this’ at him when he was met with an anxious glance.

Chigiri took a deep breath and walked over to his friend slowly, then kneeled down in front of him on the floor. “Bachira? Can I talk to you?”

The dribbler looked up and expectantly examined the redhead, but he didn’t say a word. Kunigami felt himself grow slightly anxious now as well and he looked over to Isagi who was… smiling softly? Seeming relaxed? Curious. The ginger decided to just let things progress.

Chigiri didn’t catch the ease with which Isagi watched the scene. He was entirely focused on Bachira when he nervously grasped onto his shirt and began to speak. “I’m really sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that, I was just… I was feeling stressed and scared because of the fall and I shouldn’t have taken that out on you, especially when you didn’t do it on purpose, which, I- I know you didn’t, I shouldn’t have accused you of that, that was a shitty thing to do. Everything I did was shitty, I’m really really sorry. Can you forgive me?”

Bachira tilted his head and just sat there for a few seconds, then a smile began tugging at his lips. “You’re lovely, thank you.” He put a hand on Chigiri’s shoulder, squeezing softly. “I’m sorry for getting you caught in the crossfire, I might’ve gone a little overboard with all the pranks today. Forgive me too?”

“Of course!”

Kunigami smiled softly when Bachira pulled Chigiri in for a hug and the redhead relaxed visibly. A look over to Isagi however showed him a mischievous little smirk on his lips and a realization dawned on him. This was still Bachira. Before he could warn Chigiri, the dribbler began speaking again.

“There’s one last thing though…”

Confusion showed itself on Chigiri’s face. “What thing?”

“Revenge.”

“What are you- wait, waitwaitwait, not agahahAHAHAHAIN-”

“Again? So Kunigami got his turn already?” Bachira grinned and grabbed Chigiri’s wrist, pulling it to the side for better access to his armpit. “Then it would be unfair to deny me mine, don’t you think, Chichi?”

Kunigami couldn’t help but chuckle to himself softly and he turned away to make himself comfortable on his futon. All’s well that ends well, he could let this go on for a little longer.

#rey writes #blue lock #bllk #tword fic #hurt/comfort #(if you squint)#ler!kunigami #lee!chigiri #ler!bachira #ticklish!chigiri #kunigami rensuke #chigiri hyoma #bachira meguru #slight kunigiri #rey's moots #squiggily 💙

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crmsnmth · 13 days

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A Letter to Someone I'll Never Talk To Again: Part One

Dear "Muppet"

Most people start off a letter by asking how you are, but I don't want to waste words on something that doesn't affect my life. I hope you're doing well, but it's really none of my bsiness in the end. I wish like hell that that wasn't true, but wishes are for wishful thinking. You know me, always the life of the party.

I haven't changed all that much since our time. Okay, that's a lie. I've changed a lot. See after you left, and everyone watched me go down, I vowed to change. That I would someday change back into the person I was at my happiest. I thougth that's what mattered, being happy.

The problem with this fool proof plan was that I was a fool with guesses. I was at my happiest with you, so that means I'll never be that person again. That person is officially dead and buried and his rotting corpse is why my breath stinks to badly in the morning. It leaves a foul taste too.

I knew you were with him during the last month of our relationship. I always wonder if you ever figured out that I figured it out, playing Sherlock Holmes but with a far less interesting story that you already know. I knew he was there while I was at work. And I bit my tongue because I loved you so much. I loved the person I had fallen in love with.

That person I fell in love so deeply with, was different than the one you were at the end. And I guess that's kind of a given fact since you were fucking someone else while we were in our relationship. I've had some bad relationships, the one after you especially difficult, but one thing i can say is that I've never once cheated on any partner I've had. Even if I wanted to, I never did it. Not even has payback. I didn't really give all thought about it.

Why would I? It never mattered what you did. From the very first time you stepped into that bar to the very last time you walked away from me, I knew I was yours. I was yours and I would do anything for you. So I even forgive you for all of this stuff too.

That doesn't mean I wasn't a problem too. I was caught in a delusional world I had built in my head, and I wouldn't get out of it until you left me. I think that was the shock that snapped everything into place. The catalyst, you could say. I was a liar and a con artist with the charisma of Charles Manson. I could get anyone on my side before you. I used those skills. I did it constantly. Tell a lie, something so far off and unreal that was obviously lie, and I'd wait for sometone to take the bait. Once they took the bair, the game was on and I ould try to convince someone that I was right, even when they knew I wasn't. It worked more often than not, and looking back, that frightens me so much. I was so good at it. Either that or everybody was somehow in on the joke. I did it too twice that I can think, but that number should be higher.

I really lost it after you left. And you saw it. The last phone call I ever got from you was the morning after a very awful evening. I don't remember the evening. I was mixing cocaine and being black out drunk. Somehow, I managed to piss everybody off and was taken outside to get the shit kicked out of me. You called the next morning, after hearing abot the beating and my awful behavior. Yout told me your roommate was super pissed at me. I tried to apologize on Facebook and maybe find out what happened, but he read my message and proceeded to block me/ That was it then. That one less than a minute long phone call.

They'll be letters soon, but for now I'm tired and my eyes itch behind my glasses. Time to start the ritual you loved so much in the beginning but by the end hated. And that's how it goes. People change, and there is absolutely nothing one could do. Our time together meant and still means almost everything to me, and at the way it's going, I'll be seeing you when my eyes close for all of eternity. Even without well-respected no contact clause. I almost broke when I came across your picture in a box of random papers. But I didn't. And the number I refuse to delete from my sim card may not even be your number anymore. I've probably gone through 100 different numbers since yo split.

I have to stop now, or I never will.

Love You Until the Sun Explodes, "Peanut"

#writers and poets #spilled thoughts #spilled feelings #spilled writing #writing #my writing #spilled emotions #spilled words #writers on tumblr #poets and writers #creative writing #writerscommunity #writerscorner #writer #punkrocksoapoperas #letters to no one #letter

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saltygilmores · 5 months

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THOUGHTS WHILE WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS: APPLICATION ANXIETY (SEASON 3, EPISODE 3, PART 4)

I didn't think I'd be going into four chapters+ for this filler/completely lacking in boy drama episode, but here we are.

Shady Taylor Business as per uzh. He’s committed so many white collar crimes that he’s in over his head trying to keep track of them all. Does ayone else just think of Taylor as the Mayor? He’s technically “town selectman", which is a real thing, and after many years I've finally looked up what a selectman does. I won't bore you with the details, but somehow Taylor got put into a position of authority that involves a heavy responsibility for other people's money. I know we have seen the actual mayor of The Hollow before, but only twice so far, I think. Taylor is treading into the shark infested waters of airing private grievances with Luke Danes publicly, again. Has Taylor learned nothing from the last time he tried this stunt at the emergency meeting he called about Jess and his sidewalk drawing? He really loves poking that hornet's nest. It's not going to be pretty.

Miss Patty waving at Rory and Lorelai. She is such a treasure. A horny, horny treasure. She must be protected at all costs.

Taylor calls his malt shop a "necessary service", which immediately calls me back to our comedian friend who predicted Taylor would classify his malt shop as a "necessary service" in order to stay open during the pandemic. How was that guy so spot on about everything?

That's real slimy, Taylor. Taylor Doose is slime. And not the fun kind of slime, either. According to Slimy Doose, If a 3/4ths majority of the town decide Taylor should have that building then he gets that building. It's just that simple! Check the towns bylaws! Which were probably written by Taylor! Why does Taylor want to run Luke out of town so badly? His diner is literally the only attraction in town that keeps the town economy churning (well, not Rory and Lorelai's money, but everyone else's). Taylor spends 7 years trying to find the money to fix a small wooden bridge. Like Tumblr, behind the scenes, The Hollow is being held together with paperclips and fairy dust. If tourists ever find out that Luke's special coffee is nothing more than ordinary Folgers, it's all over.

No, Salty is NOT going to research the nitty gritty details of eminent domain for you to determine if Luke is correct. You're on your own, people. I'm here to make the masturbation jokes.

Now things are real getting real loopy doopy as Taylor stands his ground that his proposed soda shop is even more necessary than a hospital. DId someone vote this guy in? According to Google, yes. A town selectman is an elected position. The people who voted for Taylor may even be voting in larger elections, which is a scary thought. Ya'll voted for this putz, you live with him.

KICK HIS ASS!

RORY YOU ARE NOT HELPING. Sit down! Oh, you already are. Well, keep sitting. And stop talking. The town decides they love their beloved coffee proprietor Luke so much that they refuse to side with him and don't give a flying cupcake if he gets screwed into next week. If this were my unrated Gilmore Girls spinoff, The Hollow, which explores the gritty realism of small tourist town life, the Malt shop goes under in a few years because the economies of these towns are very shaky. Someone is going to turn around and Eminent Domain Taylor's ass and bulldoze his businesses to build luxury townhomes.

If looks could kill, man. Someone PLEASE edit a cartoon bloody axe or hatchet into this screen shot for me. I'm going to use this face on the promo posters for my horror movie series, "Blood In The Hollow." Luke's Revenge.

Rory saying "Ice cream soda, yum" and a couple of elderly people nodding is enough to count as a majority vote. I know they worship Rory in the Hollow for some reason but how does she have that much power? Can't we get some kind of auditor in here to examine the electoral process in The Hollow? Then an accountant to audit Taylor's financial books.

Yay! We hate you Luke! Go get fucked! But keep the free coffee coming.

Even after what she just did, you know she’s going to shamelessly march right over to the diner where she won’t pay him for her food and coffee. I saw Lane unaccompained at the meeting, and started thinking since Mrs Kim apparently lets Lane go to town meetings unsupervised, they're a perfect opportunity for her to get out from the watchful eye of her mother and get up to some teenage rebellion/shenanigans. I still say she should have hooked up with Jess to give her mother a coronary.

Welcome, Shenanigans. We get an introductory story about Rygalski's musical interests, which Lane finds rather keen. Keen is like my new favorite word. It's old fashioned sounding so it just works with these old fashioned teenagers.

Get a hold of yourself woman!

Don't underestimate this geek in a dorky sweater. He's smooth.

Could she be any dorkier? Sheesh.

Don't tell me Lorelai doesn't looks jealous watching Rory kiss Dean. Dean actually listens patiently while Rory updates him about her life, and this behavior continues to feel highly suspicious. Is it because he was at home jerking off while everyone else was at the meeting and now he's not so cranky?

Don't worry Deano, you won't be lonely. There are other fish in the Hollow. Maybe you'll even manage to trap some poor innocent teenage girl and brainwash her into marrying you. I'm still not sure how he pulled that off.

I saw these oven mitts on Amazon yesterday and thought of Lindsey Lister. Whenever she's cooking one of Dean's meatloaves, she's quietly side eyeing the box of rat poison under the sink. Rory is mildly irritated because his question is "blunt and out of nowhere." and a discussion About Our Future is underway.

I'm going to keep a scoring system for this discussion: +1 point to Rory because Dean's question was really "out of nowhere" and dropped on suddenly her late at night. +1 point to Dean because his question wasn't totally unreasonable. Minus 1 point for Dean because Rory hasn't even been accepted to Harvard, no less any college, yet. + half point for Dean doing the bare minimum and believing in the idea that Rory will get into Harvard later. Minus 1 point for Dean because even if she did get into college she isn't going to start for another year, so he could have waited like, at least another 6 months before it would matter. Minus 1 point for Dean because there's no guarantee they will even be together a year from now (and they won't be).

Minus 1 point for Rory even entertaining the silly notion that she could have a "Weekends only" relationship with Dean when he is a controlling maniac who tracks her schedule and gets angry if she does not spend every minute of her free time with him. MInus 1 point for Rory engaging in more "I promise I will spend every spare minute of every day that I'm not studying with you" and "we can talk on the phone constantly during the week" negotiations. Enough with the negotiations!! Minus a kajillion points for Dean just because he's rotten hamburger meat. What is he going to do Monday-Friday after he graduates hgh school, without Rory to kick around like his personal hacky sack? Reversing the roles for fun: Dean: What are you going to do when I leave for college? Rory:

"Christianne Amanpour spends of a third of her life in foxholes in third world countries! She was on C-Span last week getting an award! And she has a family!" Girl?! Rory Gilmore is comparing her life to that of an award winning, world renowned field journalist, someone who travels the world and risks her life on a regular basis, to her life as a boring high school student dating another boring high school student, some illiterate 17 year old softball playing clown from Stars Hollow Connecticut whose own mother is still trying to abandon him at a gas station, hoping that a pack of wild dogs will find and adopt him as one of their own instead. If Christianne Amanpour can survive being blown up in a war torn country and go home to her husband and family at the end of the day, then surely Dean Forrester and Rory Gilmore can make it work. Rory, pleaase. Settle down. Minus -2 points for that sheer ridiculousness. I'm not sure Dean even knows who Christianne Amanpour is, anyway. This goes on WAY too long so I will summarize so I can get on with my life and finally finish out this episode. R: Dean you should to go to college in Boston D: I'm going to junior college R: Junior college in Boston?! D: No dorm rooms R: Rent an apartment! D: With what money? R:Why are you being like this? D: Realistic? R: Stop being so serious D: Forget it Jackson: What happens to Rory's room when she moves out, can i rent it out to put my tools in it? Lorelai: Idk (panic sweats at the thought of losing her codependent relationship with Rory if she moved out) Springsteen (Harvard Dinner Guy) on answering machine: I looked at Rory's records and even though I'm just some rich guy who graduated decades ago and I don't actually attend Harvard anymore or work at Harvard and I only met her once over an awkward dinner where she barely said anything, she's definitely a shoo in for Harvard, she may as well just pack her bags and move in right now. like she should find a dorm room that's already occupied and kick out whoever's living there already and take over their room. I'm going to tell everyone I know that Rory is definitely for sure going to Harvard there has never been a more Harvardy student that has ever ever Harvarded before. The end. Things Googled While Watching GIlmore Girls: Selectman, is a selectman elected, codependent relationship Things Not Googled: Eminent domain

#gilmore girls #denise rewatches gilmore girls #rory gilmore #lorelai gilmore #luke danes #shady taylor business #gilmore girls season 3 #application anxiety #you guys #I think my dashboard dilemma is fixed #this is the second one in a row that I could actually see immediately after posting #hallelujah #still holding my breath though #I was having trouble remembering some of the early season 3 episodes and now a few of them have come back to me #the next one's a good one

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danketsuround · 5 months

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sunday six!

typical monday six for me cause i forgot yesterday was sunday lol i was tagged by @four-white-trees and @overdevelopedglasses woo! thank you! i will tag everyone else i usually tag @c-cw-f-saeko @fire-tempers-steel @futilecombat @passthroughtime (think that's everyone? lmk if u want to be tagged/untagged) (share if you want don't if you don't as usual HI)

sharing something different cause i wasn't feeling well this weekend and i have this written already. little extra thing from two birds that expands on the letters kuwana and reiko wrote to each other. kind of long but i don't like it enough to post so just take the whole thing gosh!

To Kusumoto-san,

How are you? I'm sorry I haven't written yet. I just figured out how this works in the midst of moving around. Ehime is a nice place. Far, temperate. The people in Masaki are a little too friendly. Not sure I could say the same about Matsuyama, though, I guess that's the city to a stranger. It seems silly to say, but I hope you're making some friends, if you can.

When we first drove in, a seagull shat on my car. Right on the windshield! I almost killed us both. I know you just jumped at the thought, but we're really okay. Mitsuru made fun at me for getting so startled. He's a good kid. He's a lot like you and nothing like me. Thank God. Despite our differences I think we're getting along.

We came to Matsuyama for a bit. We wanted to pop in and see you but they told us it doesn't work that way. That day it really hit that you were in prison, and not just away on a terrible vacation. I guess I'll never get over missing you. It really upset Mitsuru, so I took him to do tourist stuff instead. It was nice because a lot of people visit those areas, so the wheelchair wasn't really a problem like it is on these gravely rural roads. We met the mascot, Mikyan, and took a picture with him. I'm sure it fell out when you tore open this envelope. Did you know Ehime is famous for its mandarins? They really won't let you forget it! The photo was just going to be of Mitsuru, but this lady behind me said she could take a photo of the both of us, and I got too shy to say no. I'd never do that! Maybe I'm a changed man after all. Anyways, you have the both of us now—though it wasn't like you didn't before.

Mitsuru gave me a haircut. I look ridiculous. You can see it in the photo, right? I would have done a better job blindfolded, but he seemed proud of it, so I kept it. His hair looks pretty choppy now, but not out of revenge. I just suck at cutting hair. Did I tell you that he's trying to get his high school diploma? What a dedicated young man you've raised. I technically still have my teaching license, so I've been helping. Feels good. It's weird. Whenever I help him, I remember why I became a teacher in the first place. Ironic, isn't it? I want to tell you everything but I'll save it for the next time we see you. I'm sorry for cutting it so short, but I have a favor to ask you.

The nurses in Ijincho explained a bunch of stuff to me about Mitsuru's condition and printed it out. It's expectedly massive. Sorry to be a pain, but would you mind taking a look at it and tell me what to do? Advice? I can't make sense of it all. Or maybe I refuse to believe it. Is he really hurt so badly? What does he think of all this? I wonder about it. I wonder about it a lot. He seems fine, but then I look at all his X-rays and blood tests and I don't know what to think. How do I get him too eat? To grab things? To smile? I'm taking it one step at a time, but these technical terms are a big hurdle. You can read it, right? You've always been so much smarter than me. I'm sorry again. I'm lost. Thank you. I'm running out of room. They've got a limit on paper for prison letters. Seems strict.

Mitsuru wanted to say:

M iSsyou Mo M

- Mi Tsu ru

He's got a damn strong grip on his pencil. You'd be proud.

Until then,

Kitakata,

It's good to finally hear from you. I'm doing as well as I can. You seem to be the same. I checked a map of Masaki to try and place you two. It seems like a nice town. Are you getting used to the short buildings and the little beach?

I've been friendly with some of the other inmates, and the seagulls here do the same, but I've been safer than you.

I got your picture. How cute. Your haircut isn't so bad, he did a good job.

I looked at the documents. I know what you mean. I expect you already know to use the feeding tube and how to bathe him. It's not surprising he did not respond well to the catheter. I wouldn't either.

Firstly, Mitsuru has anterograde amnesia. That means he has a very difficult time forming short term memory, even if his long term memory is intact. Remember when you told me he didn't know your name, even though you told him earlier? That's why. I'm not sure why he doesn't remember your face from before. I suppose that's a fortunate mystery. You may have noticed the nurses doing this, but if you tell him the same things over and over again, he'll have an easier time forming new memories. He knows what to call you now because you said it so many times. I'm sure he knows I'm in prison because the nurses told him many times, too. That's what I get.

I'm sure you're well aware of his mental health. He seems to go up and down a lot, I bet. Like his body, his brain is suck at seventeen. Doesn't he seem so... frozen in time to you? He's like an old doll, destined to be a kid forever. I'd be jealous if that was the end of it. The nurses observed that he sometimes behaves like a much younger child. Have you seen him suck his thumb? Does he tug at you when he wants your attention? Hug you at night? It's an acute stress response. He's defending his body from his mind—that's what that means.

Lastly, his food. It's not very difficult to do. Steam it for thirty minutes. If you lose track of time and think you've cooked it for too long, add another ten minutes. I did that when he was little. He hated vegetables until they weren't shaped much like vegetables anymore. He'd swallow his food whole to hurry up and play outside again, so boil it thoroughly. It should be the consistency of chewed gum or silt. Try it yourself, add salt if you hate it. He doesn't like broccoli. No broccoli. Like everything else, he's still relearning how to chew. Don't push him. He’s sensitive. You know that already, just like you know how to do all this other stuff. You have good intuition, and great memory, and it helps that Mitsuru seems to love you. Even still, don't push him. No broccoli. Thank you.

Thank you.

Don't expect me to say anything else, I'll see you soon.

Kusumoto Reiko

#my tummy hurts #sunday six

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anti-endo-haven · 27 days

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sorry, uhm, vent incoming; its a pretty big one too, im sorry again; tws for, abuse(mentioned, no detail), trauma ments(also no detail), and toxic 'friend' stuff with minor detail, and it's gonna be a longer rant/vent, i am so sorry for that again.('mentioned, no details' means just the word is said, and there is no details as to what it could mean)

I hate when I like a blog, and I find them funny, and was following them, to only find out that they're an endo or they support endos or both. It's genuinely just like. Why does this disorder that's consumed everything and made me lose myself and everyone else in our lives ever, get to be some sort of play-pretend, and roleplay thing for people? Why do they get to take what my brain and the body did to survive due to the abuse and other traumas we've went through and make it 'fun'? and WHY on earth do people think it's okay to lie about abuse or trauma? i dunno what to honestly think anymore; i'm just so tired of trying to find a safe space for it to be taken over by people who don't(or do) know how badly they're hurting us by lying and spreading misinformation. I'm also so done with our ex 'friend' who lied to us for 2 years about all the trauma and abuse they went through, and lied to us about all the mental disorders they had. They still consider us to be friends! We are not! They were horribly toxic! I finally had the courage once to tell them about us, and the system, and tried my best to explain things to them, and what everything that I just said meant. I still remember this because I just am so dumbfounded by this; shortly after I finished explaining the difference between genuine traumagenic systems and endos, and explaining what those terms mean, and what DID and OSDD mean, they suddenly said in a snobbish tone of voice, as if they were MOCKING us, "Oh. I think I have that."..I still feel the same dumbfoundedness to this day when I think about it. They claimed that they have DID and are a system...without doing research, or asking anymore details, or being professionally diagnosed. They were also the type of person who would lie and say, "No, you can't get mad at me for that! An alter did that! It wasn't me!" in order for no one to be able to call them out on their behavior...I'm just so tired.

Yeah… endos and their supporters keep taking a lot of things away and then want to claim that “we don’t need a safe space” and harass systems for not following what they believe and then start crying wolf and claiming they “need a safe space.” Like, no. You’re taking away resources and places where genuine systems can be and literally stealing trauma stories because you constantly force people to tell them to you because you want to use them for sympathy.

It’s hard to know what you can believe anymore.

We had a friend like that. Two of them. One of them was fairly young and it was just upsetting because she would constantly mock and act exactly like us, she even went so far as to saying she was trans and bi when the body identified as such and even started using the same sign offs we had as a means of “being similar.” This same girl was wanting us to leave our partner and saying they were going to harm them for no good reason.

The second friend we had, we had felt comfortable enough to open up to them and they went behind our back. On top of that, they had multiple people confirm that they’re a pathological liar. We had told them about being a system and had told them the basics, which they had instantly responded with them being the same, trauma dumped with no spoiler or trigger warning, and then said they knew how to work a lot of things because of role playing (everything was already set up and the way they had done everything I.e the dumping just put us so far away from them).

I wish more people would understand the harm of doing this to people. Yes, you could feel finally able to get out that you’re also a system, but not like that.

I know a lot of people might come after me for it, but just because a different alter did something doesn’t mean that it isn’t also on you. Yes, it’s hard to be like “so and so was the one that said it” but it’s still a part of you and it doesn’t excuse anything. Even with our parts that have hurt someone and someone else comes back to it, it’s still on us (all of us) to fix it and make it better. You can’t just walk away from it. It brings a lot of things down and no one will believe you after that.

Hugs for you, Anon. 🫂

Have a cookie for your troubles.

🍪

#anti endo #did system #system #osddid #endos dni #traumagenic system #actually did #endos not for you #actually traumagenic #did plural #did plurality #osdd plural #osdd plurality #tw abuse mention #tw trauma mention #tw toxic friendship #anti-endo-haven-vents #anti-endo-haven-vent

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mybelovedwoo · 1 year

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Long Journey - Chapter 2

Life hurts a lot, that's just how it is. At least that is what Destiny thought, living a life where living hurts more than dying. But one day everything changes when an unexpected guest appears. What does this long journey hide behind? Will it be worth it to be alive again?

"Sailors tell stories, Pirates make legends!"

ateez pirate au, fluff, angst, smut

??? x named reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: violence, fighting, guns and weaponry, blood injuries, trauma, smut, sa, pa, abuse specific to this chapter: blood, injuries

← previous | next → | masterlist

Anxiety rushes over me as I open the door to the stable, for the second time today. The difference is that now I have company along with me, more specifically six of them, and one of them is wounded badly. I suggested that we bring him here since this is the most isolated place on our property, as the boys didn't want my father to find out about what happened and they didn't want to bother the Captain either.

San sweeps everything off the table in the middle of the room with just one motion, it is loud as everything falls to the ground. The two tallest one, Yunho and Mingi places Jongho on it immediately. He's applying pressure to the wound, just like I said to him moments before panic took over me, it's great he listened to me, so maybe he didn't lose that much blood.

"Can someone tell me what the hell happened?" Seonghwa bursts into the wide space with Wooyoung on his side. He ran back to the house ahead of us, Yunho asked him to inform the Quartermaster about the situation. It's really scary how angry the man looks.

Yunho is the one who gives the full report with a shaky voice. "We- we wanted to get the things we needed, just like you asked. We just ran into a little complication on the way, and someone attacked us, we didn't want to draw the attention to ourselves, so we didn't attack back. But Jongho got shot." And with the last sentence, he looks at the boy in pain.

"Did anyone else got hurt?" I don't know exactly who the question is directed at, but he looks straight at me as if he expects an answer from me. I'm just trying to hide in the corner, arms crossed in front of me. I don't know what to do in this kind of situation, they are just strangers, I shouldn't worry about them. I shake my head, to let him know everyone else is completely okay, at least physically.

"What are we supposed to do right now? We don't have a healer with us." Wooyoung steps closer to the table, that smiley boy from earlier now looks terrified. I don't know how severe the wound could be from this far away, but I can see that he is sweating. He must have a fever.

"I may be able to help," I say, but I don't move from my place. Maybe I should have kept quiet, but I feel bad about what happened earlier with Jongho, that I took everything on him.

"What do you mean? Are you a healer by any chance?" The black-haired navigator, Yunho asks.

"Not exactly, I mean I only healed animals before and only watched my mother work all the time when I was younger, she was the best at her job and she always taught me the little practices." I sigh. "I don't know if I could actually help, but I can try." I look around at me, I see a couple of surprised and a couple of thinking faces. I mean who am I kidding, why would they trust a complete stranger who has no experience?

"I'm gonna be honest, I don't know why, but I trust you. It's enough if you try at least, just please help him. Until then I'll try to talk with the captain. If you need anything, the others are at your service." Honestly, I didn't expect that. I instantly rushed to Jongho's side, and put my hand on his forehead. Just as I thought, he has a high fever.

"I need a wet cloth, a lance or even a sharp knife will do, and a lot of alcohol." When I look up Seonghwa is already out of the room, but no one is doing anything, they just look confused. "NOW!" I shout. And finally, everyone starts moving.

I put my hands around the wound and carefully press it, I'm trying to feel how deep the bullet is in. There is no exit hole, so it must be still inside. If I don't take it out as soon as possible, it can get infected, and from there I may not be able to do anything. So as soon as the others got back with the things I asked for, I start working right away.

Even I was surprised by how easily I took the bullet out of the wound and sewed it up, although I was never good at that, so it isn't perfect, but it will do for now. Jongho passed out in the middle of it, he held up better than I thought. The fever hasn't gone down yet, but for now, that should be the least of his problem. I told San to always keep a cold cloth on his forehead and nape. He hasn't left his side ever since, and he looks like he's not even gonna attempt to soon.

Seonghwa hasn't returned yet. I don't dare to go out, even though I should wash all this blood off of myself, but I can't enter the house like this, so I just wait. I sit down on a hay bale, and I bury my face into my palms, it is only now that I have realized what I did. Sudden weariness runs through me.

I can feel someone sitting down next to me, but I don't look up, for now, I can't even move an inch.

"Thank you." I hear a familiar voice. Only these two words fill me up with warmth, I haven't heard it in a long time. "I didn't know you were this cool." I chuckle and look up at the honey-skinned boy next to me. He has that mischievous smile on his face once again just like earlier at the market.

"I wouldn't use those exact words." I returned his smile without even noticing it. He has the kind of smile that brightens everyone around him. "I'm glad I could help." I hug myself, I feel a little bad in these clothes, with someone else's blood on it.

"Oh, here take this." And Wooyoung drapes his jacket over my shoulders. "Cover up with it."

I don't have time to thank him when the door opens again. Seonghwa steps in, but now with Yunho on his side, both of them have a not-so-pleasant expression on.

Yeosang, the quietest one, who I haven't heard talking yet asks "Have you spoken with captain?" He has a very deep voice, just as deep as the ocean, it calms people down. He sits on a chair across from me, on the other side of the room.

"I have." He sighs. "It looks like we have to leave earlier than expected. We will leave tomorrow morning. Until then the captain tries to arrange everything quickly."

"But we can't leave him here for the night, a servant can find him. They will come out here soon to feed the horses." I tell them worriedly. I only can imagine how angry my father will get if he finds out about this.

"Do you know any other places where we can take him?" Seonghwa asks, he looks at me like I'm the only one who can help them. I don't like this feeling when people rely on me.

I don't know if I should mention it since it's my secret hideout and the only place no one else knows about. "There's a house across the lake, it stands empty. Nobody goes there." Only me, but I don't say this out loud. I hope I made the right decision.

I lead the way there, we have to go through the forest to get to the old house. I don't how they will get Jongho here, because the path is not that stable, and I wouldn't be happy if the stitches got ripped open.

Only Seonghwa, Yunho, and Wooyoung came with me, the other three stayed there with Jongho, looking after him. They haven't brought him here yet, first, they are just scouting the area.

When we get there I open the slightly rotten wooden door for them. It makes all sorts of squeaky noises, it's not very pleasant. We enter, everything is covered in dust and dirt. The big empty room is only lit by the two small dirty windows across the space, it's still not much, as the trees cover all the light that is left from the setting sun.

Only now do I notice how fast time has passed and I start to worry. "Will this be alright?" I ask while I walk around the familiar room.

"Yes, it will be perfect. You sure no one comes here?" Seonghwa runs his finger along the windowsill, and the dirt of many years stays on his long fingers and removes it with only one blow.

"I'm sure." I hug myself once again. Honestly, I don't know how much longer I can stay on my feet.

"Okay. Wooyoung would you be so kind and take the lady back to her room, but make sure no one sees her like this." They nod to each other as if they had discussed something without saying it out loud.

The way back to the house was quiet, I didn't mind it though, I don't know how much I would have been able to concentrate. We stopped in front of the back door, which leads to the kitchen. Thank god there's no one there at the moment, it's not very common. Before we go inside Wooyoung tells me to stay as silent as possible, and so do I. Little does he know I do these kinds of things every day, I know exactly what I'm doing.

I look out to the corridor from the kitchen, I'm barely sticking out my head. I can see only one servant there, and she too has just turned into one of the rooms. "Let's go" I'm signaling to the boy behind me.

And the moment we both step out of the space, the servant also leaves the room she just went into, back to the corridor. Without any hesitation, Wooyoung grabs my hand and pulls me into the room opposite the kitchen, which is the dining room. He tries to pull me closer to him so that no one notices me, but I pull my hand away from his and push myself further away. I know he only wants to help, but his touch leaves some bad feelings on my skin, I can't help it. "I'm sorry." I say, realizing how he looks at me.

He shakes his head as if nothing happened. And now he is the one sticking his head out. "Come, it's clear now. We just have to run up the stairs." He looks back at me.

I lead the way from the top of the stairs to the door of my room. We stop in front of it, looking around once more to make sure no one has seen us. I tighten the jacket around me, I already forgot Wooyoung gave it to me earlier. "Here, your jacket." I'm starting to take it off of me, so I can give it back.

"No, leave it. Just return it the next time we meet." He winks at me, and at that moment he turns around and leaves me there alone.

As I enter my room I finally can calm down a little. I think about everything that happened today, and I can't believe that it actually happened. I just can't wait to have a warm bath. Something pulls out of my thoughts, I got scared as someone steps out of my bathroom. "What the hell happened to you?" I turn pale, maybe it was all for nothing?

note: things got a little out of hand in this one. how did you like it? MC is starting to get to know the boys, and maybe they are growing a little bit closer. How do you think things will turn out now that the boys have to leave?

If you want to be part of any of my taglists, there's a form in my main masterlist (my pinned post) you should fill out, so it's easier for me, but you still can massage me about it too. <3

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mehrceditaa · 1 year

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T/HG AU : ON THE SHORT - LIVED ALLIANCE .

defeating the boy from 2 was an ordeal. mercy is surprised when venus approaches her, offering up a plan as if they'd already called a truce; well, she supposes they have. there'd be no surviving him otherwise. his name is rhys, she learns, in the brief time they're afforded cover. “ you’re quick, yeah? ” venus figures she must be, “ you steer him away from here and i'll get him from behind. if anything goes wrong, be my backup. ” mercy agrees immediately, falling into this strategy too easily. it's foolproof, isn't it? she's bait. if this goes badly for her, venus wins, and if not, she knows it will not last, but there's no other way she'll make it any longer on her own.

so she peaks around the corner, spying rhys whipping his head around like a rabid dog, looking for the last traces of human life. the girl who was once venus's ally lies in a crumpled heap behind him. mercy steps into a clear line of sight, just waiting for him to notice. when he does, she books it.

she can hear him catching up to her much sooner than he should be able to, as if he's just chosen to ignore his physical limits. mercy pushes on, leads him into the clear, open field wondering if venus is even going to come. maybe she just fucked herself over. maybe the real plan is to wait until she's caught, when rhys is too distracted ripping her apart, to attack him. there was no chance to begin with. but despite this line of thinking, as soon as it starts to feel too real, venus keeps her word: her voice rips across the field, not too far behind them, “ VEER LEFT! ” and she does. she turns just in time to see venus hurl her spear with painful accuracy, skewering rhys through the back. but he doesn't fall — instead, he turns.

venus draws the sickle from her hip and in the split second she has to assess the situation, lunges at him head-on. she cuts deeply into his arm before he seizes her own in an iron grip, but it isn't enough. she can only fight to not give him access to the blade, to a weapon. mercy moves before this struggle can expire, this time on the offensive, grabbing the spear that is still lodged in his torso and wriggling it free. rhys collapses to his knees this time, and when he turns again to face the new danger, mercy returns the spear to him, pinning him to the ground through his throat.

the girls fall back, panting. there is no celebration. they watch him as if they still expect him to rise from the dead, all in heavy silence until the sound of the cannon rouses them from this state. suddenly, they look at each other, nodding between heaved breaths, and venus sits unsteadily, neither caring for what everyone else expects to happen next. “ you, ” she says. “ i didn't even realize you were still in this. what the hell? is he your first kill? ” mercy nods, looking just as surprised, herself. venus looks impressed, both at the odds of that and at the job-well-done. beside them, rhys's blood waters the grass.

“ i don't even know your name, ” she says. mercy just looks at her for a moment, a part of her questioning if that was supposed to be a dig. “ i'm serious. ”

she swallows the dry taste in her mouth. it almost feels too thick to speak, but she manages somehow. “ it's mercy. ”

this time, it is venus who looks at her incredulously. she can feel the joke brewing — there was at least part of a reason she used her full name in the capitol — but nobody makes it. nobody has to, because venus already starts to laugh. first it's a snicker, one that mercy has to tilt her head in some odd humor to acknowledge, but it isn't long before it grows — louder and harder and more than just a touch more sadistic. there's another joke brewing... one that only works when the next cannon goes off, she thinks. venus begins to push herself back upwards, and before she can land on her feet, mercy disappears into the maze.

#death /#gore /#srry. brainrot #⁰². LIVING WELL IS JUST A PRIVILEGE‚ arc ten.

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the-inkwell-variable · 1 year

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NaNo Snippet -- Day 8

Hit 17,000+change words today

Despite my brain going brrrrr, I managed to hit my 1667 words, so I'm calling it to give my brain a break

Here's today's snippet which I definitely haven't been forgetting to do!

Anais sets the paper down on the table, her cereal soggy and forgotten. She glances at the stairs that lead to her sister’s room. Ana showed all of the symptoms in stage one – and a few in stage two. She thought it was just the flu – they all did. And why wouldn’t they? It’s the end of October. Someone in their family always gets sick at the end of October.

Why didn’t I catch it? She can’t help but wonder. After all, she’s the one taking care of Ana – cleaning up her vomit, feeding her, helping her to the bathroom when her body is too weak to support her weight. She washed her hands, sure – she doesn’t want to get herself or anyone else sick – but according to the notice, that’s not enough.

Do not interact with sick relatives. Do not attempt care for sick relatives.

Maybe she is sick, and she just doesn’t know it. Maybe she’s not far enough along to show symptoms yet. Maybe she’s a carrier like Typhoid Mary, spreading this weird new disease to everyone she’s come into contact with, but never showing symptoms herself.

She works – used to work in a doctor’s office. How many people stood in front of her, less than six feet away, breathing in the air she breathed out? How many times did she touch the door handle to the patient rooms, leaving invisible sickness when she let go? How many old people shook her hand across the counter, unwilling to leave the office without a gesture of goodwill?

God. She didn’t kill Jared with the scheduling book – but how many people is she killing right now?

She can’t think about it.

Anais leaves the paper on the table as the soup behind her begins to bubble and froth, threatening to spill over the steel surface of the pot. She takes it off the stove and waits a moment for it to calm down before ladeling it into a bowl. It’s not chicken noodle, the staple of flu sufferers everywhere. This is beef noodle. Ana has been craving beef – stage two symptoms: sudden craving for red meat – and can’t seem to keep down anything else.

Better to feed the craving than let her starve.

Anais carries the bowl upstairs and knocks on the door. She can barely hear her sister’s reply, but she does hear it, so she goes inside.

“Soup for the lady.”

“Thanks.” Ana struggles to push herself into a sitting position. Anais leans over to help her, unconsciously holding her breath. As if it matters. If she is meant to catch it, she would have gotten sick already. She sets the bowl on the overbed table and wheels it over. As Ana picks up the spoon, Anais can’t help but glance at her hands. Blue – just like the notice warned.

How many more of these symptoms can she ignore before she’s forced to admit that Ana has this new flu?

Do not interact with sick relatives. Do not attempt care for sick relatives.

“Anything new happen while I’m stuck up here in this stuffy room?”

Anais shrugs. “Not much. Selina and Damian have been getting along better than usual. Damian is doing a big project on cell structure for the science fair, and Selina’s doing a research report that’s worth a quarter of her grade. Things have been pretty quiet downstairs.”

“And Harley?”

“Harley has decided that wearing shoes is preferable to wet socks and is learning how velcro works. She likes the sound it makes when it tears apart, I think.”

“Wow. Are you sure I’m in my own house? Sounds like you have everything under control.” Ana spoons the soup into her mouth. Her hand shakes badly enough to spill a little onto her blanket, but she doesn’t seem to notice. “Maybe I should let you handle the parenting from now on.”

Anais forces a smile. “I’m great with kids when they’re well behaved. Just you wait until they fight over the remote – I’ll be gone so fast your head will spin.”

Ana chuckles softly. Usually Anais loves to see her sister smile, but that notice reminds her that laughter is a stage two symptom. Does she actually find the lame joke funny, or is she showing yet another symptom that she’s sicker than she looks?

“Should I take the baby downstairs?” She wants to. For the first time in her life, she wants the baby out of her sister’s room and safe in her playpen.

“No, she’s been sleeping pretty peacefully for the past few hours. I don’t mind keeping her near me for a while longer – gives me peace of mind to know she’s safe, y’know? Not that I don’t trust you with her,” Ana adds quickly, shooting her a guilty glance. “It’s a mom thing, I think. When the others were babies, I couldn’t stand to have them out of my sight either.”

“Doesn’t hurt my feelings any.” Anais edges toward the door, eager to put this room of sickness behind her. “I’m gonna go. Guess the Price is on, and you know how I love my cheesy game shows.”

“Yeah, yeah, get out of here.” Ana scoops more soup into her mouth. “Wait – that reminds me. I heard screaming yesterday. Fell asleep right after. Was that real, or was it a dream?”

The memory flashes before her face – elderly Mrs. Young giggling as she pressed her thumbs into the neighbor’s eye sockets. Anais shook her head, trying to send the memory packing. “There was some screaming, yeah. I’ll tell you about it when you’re better. Don’t want to worry you while you’re sick or anything.”

“Fair enough. But you better not forget. I might. I’ve been pretty forgetful lately. Surprised I remembered that, to be honest.” Ana leaned back in the pillows, leaving the half-empty bowl of soup for a moment. Anais moves to grab it, but her sick sister waves her off with a limply flapping hand. “Leave it. I’m not done. Just resting for a second. Sitting up is a lot harder than it was when I was your age.”

“I’ll get there soon enough, don’t you worry.”

Anais has never been so happy to leave her sick sister alone in her room.

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