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screamingoverfiction · 1 year

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Sleeping In

Fred Weasley x f!-reader. No house mentioned. 18+ smut ahead minors DNI!!

Also, I'm sorry for disappearing, I was stressed, and writer's block took its toll! Hopefully, I'll be able to do a request I have sitting in my drafts.

Word Count: 2.24k

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"Oi, George, where's your sodding twin?" Y/n shouted, throwing her hands in the air as she entered the Gryffindor common room.

"Er, I think he's still in the dorm," George replied, nodding toward the stairs. The younger twin was sitting on the couch, playing cards with a few other students, his girlfriend Angelina resting her head on his shoulder.

Y/n huffed annoyedly, mumbling incoherently as she ascended the stairs, her nostrils flaring.

She reached the twins' dorm in no time, turning the knob and stepping inside, flicking the light switch.

"Ah, fuck me," A voice cried out, which Y/n immediately recognized as Fred's.

"Rise and shine fuckface," Y/n spoke, grabbing a random jumper off the floor and chucking it at Fred, who was busy rubbing away the sleep from his eyes.

The cloth hit him directly in the face, making him reel back.

"Ow," Fred mumbled, yawning again and blinking a few times.

"You were supposed to meet me in the library an hour ago," Y/n said, crossing her arms and shifting her weight to her hip.

"Shit. Did I sleep that long?" Fred said, his eyes widening. He looked at his nightstand, and the small clock read 11:23 am.

"Fuck," He mumbled, running a hand through his hair and glimpsing at Y/n, flashing her an embarrassed smile.

Y/n just rolled her eyes with a sigh, running her tongue along her cheek. She walked over to the curtains, pulling them open and letting the light shine in.

Fred cringed from the brightness, sitting up with his back against the frame, admiring her from behind, sucking in a sharp breath.

Y/n turned around, her eyes widening slightly as she saw him.

He was shirtless, his muscles on full display, wearing only his plaid pajama pants beneath the covers. His red hair was messily falling over his forehead, and his eyes were still drowsy with sleep.

She quickly looked away, her eyes focusing on everything but him, the curtains, his dresser, the wall.

After all, they were only friends.

"Get dressed and meet me in the library," Y/n said, starting to walk to the door.

As she walked by, his hand wrapped around her wrist, tugging her down on top of him.

A light gasp escaped her lips when his hands found themselves tightly grasping her hips, steadying her on his lap.

"I didn't mean to oversleep," He spoke softly, his eyes a pool of warm brown as they stared at her.

Y/n couldn't say a word, her mouth was open, but no sound came out, and her heart was beating a million miles an hour. She feared he could hear the rapidness.

"I did actually get up, brushed my teeth and everything, but then I took a...'five-minute nap.'"

"I looked like an idiot waiting for you," Y/n whispered. Her breath was shaky, full of nerves. She just now noticed her hand placement, both on either side of his neck by his collarbones, but he didn't seem to mind. Her legs straddled his waist, and the only thing separating them was the thin covers.

Fred let out a dry, breathy laugh. His eyes flickered to her lips before he lifted his gaze to hers.

Slowly, his hand raised to cup her face, his thumb gently tracing her cheek, making her inhale sharply.

His pupils were blown with what seemed to be lust and desire, and his eyes bore into hers, hesitant yet yearning.

Y/n's core burned with intense heat, her mind told her to back away, to save their friendship while she could, but her body's urge was far more powerful.

"Allow me to apologize," He said quietly, swallowing thickly as he gradually leaned forward, his hand still gently holding her face.

Y/n closed her eyes as his lips brushed against hers. With her lips trembling softly, she closed the gap.

Their lips met in a soft kiss. It was timid, slow, sensual, the calm before a raging storm.

Fred sighed against her lips, bringing his hand to the back of her head and drawing her closer, deepening their kiss.

Y/n leaned into him, her nails digging into his skin as she gripped his strong shoulder. Her other hand traveled to his jaw, holding it tightly.

A soft whimper-like gasp left her lips as Fred's free hand snaked under her shirt, his warm fingers brushing against the cool skin of her waist.

Like a bolt of lightning, desire shot through his spine from the noise. His tongue clashed with hers, and soft moans escaped their lips as the kiss dragged on.

"Fuck," Fred groaned, wanting nothing more than to rip off her clothes and ravage her completely. Hear her cry out his name as he fucked her into the mattress.

"Freddie," Y/n breathed, both of her hands now laced in his hair, lightly tugging it.

"Y/n, fuck. Can I?" Fred said, his fingers toying with the bottom of her black shirt.

She didn't hesitate to nod her head, a chorus of yeses quickly escaping her lips.

Fred lifted the fabric up and over her head, briefly disconnecting their lips.

Y/n didn't give herself time to feel ashamed, instead opting to connect their lips before he could scan her body.

Fred's fingers danced over her hips and around to her back, sliding upwards toward her bra clip.

If he died from kissing her lips, he'd die happy. There was no other taste in the world that could ever amount to her. She was the finest meal of them all.

"Can-"

"Yes, please," Her words came out in a whispering whine, a plead. She knew there was no going back to how things were, but hell, she didn't want that anymore.

Fred smiled, softly biting her bottom lip, kissing her passionately as he swiftly unclipped her bra.

He tossed it off the bed, pulling away from her lips and casting his eyes down.

If possible, his pupils expanded even more. He was so full of desire and passion that he felt he might explode.

Her body was perfect, exquisitely, and seemingly made purely for him.

Y/n could feel the shame rising on her cheeks. She felt the world slowly swallow her in the seconds before he responded.

"Bloody hell. You're so beautiful," Fred murmured, his lips attaching to her throat, kissing and biting downwards, making sure he left marks.

Y/n let out a soft gasp as he trailed further down, her head knocking back when he started on her breasts.

"Oh fuck," She whispered, biting her lip and squeezing her eyes shut as his lips thoroughly covered her nipples and breasts in hickeys.

"You look so fucking pretty covered in my marks," He said, smiling against her neck, kissing the sweet spot below her ear.

Y/n laced her fingers in his short red hair, breathing heavily, subconsciously rutting herself against him, searching for some sort of friction.

She hastily sat straighter, pulling the thin covers back and straddling him completely, feeling his erection through the cloth of his trousers.

Her lips found him again, and it was her turn to scatter love bites along his skin, which she did without hesitation.

Her teeth nipped and marked the skin around his throat, leaving a skillfully placed hickey just below his jaw visible to everyone.

"Making me yours, I see," Fred mumbled teasingly, his hand now drifting to her arse, head knocked back in pleasure.

"Not like you didn't do the same," She replied breathlessly, pulling back to admire her work, tracing her fingers over the various marks on his neck and jaw.

Fred smirked, taking her chin in his hand and dragging her back to his lips, kissing her deeply.

"Do I look pretty?" He asked, a hint of mischief in his voice.

"Very," Y/n answered, gasping as his hand ran over her arse, stopping at the waistband of her sweats.

"Take them off," She says before he can even ask, already assisting him in sliding them down, kicking them off and away from the bed.

Y/n's fingers hooked into the hem of his trousers. He soon helped her take them off and quickly discard them with the rest of their clothes.

Her panties were next. Fred practically ripped them off her legs, too impatient for anything else.

The cold air hit her bare pussy, and she shivered, but as soon as his warm body touched hers, her mind was clouded yet again.

She wasted no time taking off his boxers as well, the bubbling warmth in her core only growing larger when his large erection brushed against her inner thigh, teasing her.

"Do you- Do you have-" Y/n started to ask, but he cut her off.

"Top drawer to the left," Fred said quickly, an audible displeased groan leaving his lips when she pulled back.

Y/n would've rolled her eyes at his whines, but she was too wrapped up in lust to even care.

She opened the top drawer, took a condom from the box, and handed it to Fred.

He ripped it open with his teeth, spitting the plastic out and carefully sliding the latex over his aching cock.

Y/n could do nothing but stare and drool, the mere sight of him making her cunt clench in anticipation.

He was half propped on his elbow, one hand traveling to her neck, pulling her lips to his while the other held her by the hip.

Y/n kissed him deeply, aligning his cock with her entrance and slowly lowering herself onto it, breathing rapidly.

Airy moans left both their lips as he bottomed out, her tight muscles clenching around him.

The covers were hanging off her lower back, but she didn't care. There was no way in hell she would get cold.

His warm body pressed against hers as she started rocking her hips. Chest to chest, their bodies worked together, his hand on her back, pressing her further into him, her hand on his bicep, nails digging into his muscles as she moved.

"Ah- fuck, just like that, love," Fred groaned, his handsome features scrunched in pleasure.

He looked down to see where they connected, her back arching ever so slightly to take him all, her perfect pussy stretched around his cock.

He was able to hit every perfect place inside her, rutting against her g-spot, sending waves of pleasure shooting up Y/n's spine.

But oh fuck, he needed to be deeper, needed her moaning and mewling his name like it was a prayer.

So without missing a beat, he flipped their positions, her legs locking around his torso as he started thrusting.

She wrapped her arms around him, encasing him closely, their chests still touching.

"You're so good for me, angel, taking my cock so well," He grunted, breathing heavily from the sensation of her walls clenching around him.

His thrusts weren't overly rough, but they didn't need to be. He didn't want to fuck her. No, he wanted to love her, cherish her body like the temple it was, and make her cry out in intense pleasure as she came on his cock.

"Freddie," She whimpered, arching her back to meet his thrusts, each perfectly timed. Tears of euphoria welled in her eyes, starting to slowly drip and roll down her cheeks as her orgasm quickly approached.

He looked so pretty above her, eyes closed in pleasure, messy hair, the freckles dotting his pale skin shining from the droplets of sweat trickling down his body.

His forehead rested against hers, fingers digging into her waist as he chased his climax. His breathing became more labored and rapid with every passing second.

Y/n felt the knot in her stomach coiling, the bubble of heat ready to pop with just a few more thrusts.

"Fred, I'm so close," She whispered, pushing her body closer to him, back arching off the bed.

"Fuck, me too. Come for me, Y/n," He said, his warm breath tickling her neck, the sensation sending her over the edge.

Her orgasm washed over her in waves of immense pleasure, lightning in her veins, a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart. Her legs shook, and her core was on fire, burning through the high as she came with his name on her tongue, crying it out.

Fred finished a few moments after, his hips sputtering as he filled the condom, his stomach burning with heat and pleasure.

The first few moments after having sex with someone new are the most pivotal. They decide if it's a one-time thing or something more.

Fred swallowed, resting his forehead against hers and sighing deeply, trying to catch his breath.

Y/n's hand wrapped around his neck, lacing in his hair. She smiled softly when he let out a breathy laugh. The sound was always music to her ears.

"I think I need to sleep in more often," Fred whispered, pulling his head back to connect their gazes, admiring her fucked out appearance, bruised lips, hickeys everywhere, and dried lines of tears running down her cheeks. She was beautiful.

"I think..." Y/n breathed, propping herself on her elbows and cupping his face in her hands.

"I could go for another apology," She finished, a smirk toying on her lips.

A shit-eating grin spanned across Fred's lips, his eyes lighting up at her insinuation.

"If I ever say no to that, kill me,"

----

Hope you enjoyed! If there are spelling/grammar mistakes, I'm sorry. I wrote this at like 1 am.

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fic #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley story #fred weasley x you #weasley twins #weasley

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matchascara · 9 months

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TWO FACED | SCARAMOUCHE

- IN WHICH: kunikuzushi is the perfect boy, maybe a bit too perfect. but things seemed to have changed after he took a hit to the head...

contents: NSFW!! slight degradation

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

if it was anything you hated, it was stability. you hated when things became calm, and peaceful, when things would go too smoothly. you need the constant thrill of something new and exciting, something unknown.

and your relationship with kunikuzushi was anything but. you didn't like how you thought this way though because he really is a sweet guy. if anything, he was perfect.

but that's what you didn't like about him. he was too perfect. there were never any real bumps in your relationship. all problems would be solved with a heartfelt apology from him even if it wasn't his fault, you'd never catch him flirting with other girls, he never got jealous, mad, and he refused to rough handle you in bed, no matter how much you wanted him too.

so with a lot of thinking, you built up courage to finally admit to yourself.

this relationship isn't going anywhere.

that's why you were going to break up with him today. on your six month anniversary.

you didn't want to become the villain in your love story, but you refused to hurt him further.

he took you out to fine dining, and couldn't stop staring at you from across the table as you fiddled with your dress that hugged your body in all the right places. his face becoming red when you finally looked up to meet his eyes, prepared to break the news.

"so, kuni..." you trailed off, wondering if this was the right thing to do. lost in thought, you noticed a couple that occupied the table behind the two of you arguing. you bit your bottom lip in fear that you guys would end up like that after this conversation.

kuni placed the menu down on the table, giving you his full attention. "yes my love?"

but you didn't stare into your mirror all night practicing this for nothing, so you had no choice but to just say it. "there's no right way of saying this, but i think we should b-"

however, your sentence was quickly cut off when a plate came flying from behind kuni and being too late to warn him, he was now knocked out cold.

***

it was now 11:00 at night on your six month anniversary and you're spending it watching your boyfriend nap in your bed. after that very embarrassing incident at the restaurant you decided to just go home, of course, bringing an unconscious kuni back with you was definitely a hassle as he's way heavier than he looks.

"people need to start having public decency." you mumbled to yourself as you loosened your hair from its original updo.

you stared at kuni through your mirror as he slept. you hated how along with his perfect personality, he also had a perfect face. it made this whole breaking up thing a lot harder.

you walked over to kuni and sat on the bed next to him, running your fingers along his face, trailing them against his jawline. the same way you would when he'd softly plant small kisses against your lips as soon as he woke up from naps.

you held your hair behind your ear as you leaned in closer to him.

just one kiss. you thought. remind me why i fell for you.

"what the hell do you think you're doing?"

his voice was rough, and his tone was fierce. the sudden change caused you to jump up. you watched as kuni's usual warm comforting gaze became cold and unwelcoming, his brows furrowing at the sight of you so close.

something wasn't right.

you turned away and stood up out of embarrassment. "o-oh! you're awake finally!" you said, voice quivering. "i'll go now--"

before you were able to walk off, he swiftly grabbed your arm, forcefully pulling you back onto the bed. this time with you underneath.

he hovered himself over you, using his darkened eyes to mentally undress you. you tried to bury your face in your hands to block his intense gaze but it was to no avail as he pinned both your hands above you, using his other hand to cup your chin, forcing you to do nothing but look at him.

"hm, you're actually quite attractive." he said, turning your face to examine each side. "--but tell me, do you usually go around kissing unconscious people?"

"...no, it was my first time."

chuckling at your response he leaned in to whisper in your ear. "so should i punish you?" his voice tickled your ear, causing shivers down your spine. it made one thing clear.

this wasn't kunikuzushi.

"who are you?"

he lifted himself up, fully sitting on top of you. the thin material of your dress making it impossible not to feel him harden above you. "who am i?" he said, repeating your question. "i'm not fond of small talk. how about i just show you who i am."

before you could respond his lips clashed against yours. the kiss instantly became intense as his tongue explored your mouth finally intertwining with yours as you kissed back. you felt his grip on your hands tighten everytime he'd teasingly bite your tongue, causing you to release a soft moan which only excited him further.

the kiss was hot, sensual-- lustful. it wasn't what you were used to, and that made you crave him even more. you wanted to explore this new feeling until you were satisfied and the friction of your tongues wasn't enough so you began to grind your hips against his, his hardened member tickling against your clothed clit.

"are you insane?" he moved his hands down to your waist, holding it in place. "don't move without permission, you're being punished."

"but i want it...now..." you said, trailing your finger up his shirt and along his chest.

"i understand now." he scuffed. "you're used to always getting what you want. you're spoiled. so fine then." he grabbed your arm and flipped you on top of him. as he sat against the bedframe you could feel the tip rub against you through your panties, begging for an entrance.

"you can ride me until i'm satisfied." his hands explored your thigh until they met your hips, squeezing them firmly. you winced out of pleasure at how tight he held you. "but if you start slacking, i'll hurt you."

you nodded and began to unzip his pants, however you were abruptly stopped when he flicked your fingers away. "looks like i didn't clarify. you're riding me through these clothes." he said, thumbing your clit through your panties. "spoiled bitches don't deserve my dick."

he was basically torturing you at this point. though, for some reason, you didn't mind. in fact, you enjoyed it. you wanted to see how far he would go.

"go on."

you slowly began to start rubbing yourself against his throbbing cock, the wetness of your panties making it easier to move yourself up and down. "fuck yes-- like that--keep going just like that." he hummed in between his erotic pants. his head swung back in pleasure as you held his shoulders to keep the pace.

the way he would grip a handful of your hair from the back of your head to pull your head backwards forcing you to let out all the sounds you tried to conceal drove you crazy. he knew what he wanted and he would get it, by force.

your vision started to become blurred as you were overcome with pleasure. the sound of your heart beating began to ring louder than the soft moans and deep breaths that harmonized between the two of you. occasionally he would bite his bottom lip or cover his mouth to hide just how erotic and high pitched his voice could become.

"please. please let me put it in-- i need it kuni..." you whined, leaning into his shoulder.

clicking his tongue out of annoyance, he shoved two fingers inside your mouth causing you to almost choke. "show me how much you need it by shutting the fuck up and riding my dick the way i told you to." he sternly said.

"--by the way." he pulled you only centimeters away from his face, scolding you with his piercing gaze.

"call me scaramouche."

#genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche #wanderer x reader #wanderer #wanderer smut #kunikuzushi #genshin scaramouche #genshin x you #genshin impact

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thelonelyempath · 1 year

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Sleepy Prompts

1. “Baby, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

2. “Go rest. I’ll take care of it.”

3. “Do you think it would be helpful if we were cuddling?”

4. “You fell asleep right on my lap. No no no, don’t feel bad. I actually thought it was pretty cute.”

5. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

6. “Let me be a mom for a second and tuck you in.”

7. “You’re adorable when you’re sleeping.”

8. “Put the homework away and go to bed. You look exhausted.”

9. “I called in sick. Now we can stay in bed and snuggle all day.”

10. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep after that.”

11. “That’s the fifth time in the last two minutes that you’ve yawned.”

12. “No offense, but you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

13. “You’re already half-asleep.”

14. “I’ll carry you.”

15. “That’s, what, your fourth cup of coffee?”

16. “Are you afraid to fall asleep because you think you’re gonna have a nightmare?”

17. “You’re so cute when you’re tired and speaking in half-sentences.”

18. “Did you know you talk in your sleep?”

19. “Stop fighting it. You need sleep.”

20. “Goodnight, my love. Sweet dreams.”

21. “Give me a goodnight kiss?”

22. “Darling, you’re shivering. Come here, let me warm you up.”

23. “You’re still awake. Something on your mind?”

24. “Sorry, were you sleeping?”

25. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

26. “When was the last time your head hit a pillow?”

27. “You twitch in your sleep. It’s honestly one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.”

28. “So then I- oh, you’re already asleep.”

29. “You don’t know the wonders a 30 minute power nap could do you right now.”

30. “It was just a nightmare, love. It wasn’t real.”

31. “I understand wanting to get things done, but please don’t pull anymore all-nighters, babe. You need to sleep.”

32. “Those energy drinks really aren’t good for you.”

33. “Look me in the eyes and tell me what time you went to bed last night. Or if you went to bed, for that matter.”

34. “Don’t think I don’t notice you yawning.”

35. “I can’t sleep if you’re not here to cuddle with me.”

36. “It usually takes me a while to fall asleep too.”

37. “Do you wanna hear about the dream I had last night?”

38. “You always end up looking like you’re gonna fall asleep when I play with your hair.” “Yeah, it’s relaxing.”

39. “You’re obviously tired. Go lie down.”

40. “I’m gonna carry you to bed if you keep arguing with me about not needing sleep.”

41. “Sleep. I’ll keep you safe.”

42. “I’m so sleepy.”

43. “Just try and keep your eyes open for five minutes.”

44. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

45. “You should really get some rest. You’ll feel so much better.”

#sleep #sleep prompts #sleepy prompts #sleepy dialogue prompts #otp sleep prompts #otp prompts #writing prompts #prompts #sleepy dialogue #sleep dialogue

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 2 days

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[12:11 pm]

(cw: f!reader, a child)

Dad!Jaehyun was moody which was odd. It had been an unusually easy morning. There was good breakfast, nice morning with cartoons that hadn’t been as annoying as usual. The little, sister dogs had actually even been kind of cute. You were curled up at his side on the couch playing with his hair and being very loving- which he loved.

His daughter was calm, ate all her breakfast, and had been extra cuddly and adorable. She had gone down for her first nap with no fussing and didn’t whine when you got her ready. This was also odd for the almost one year old, it was like hitting the jackpot with her this morning. She was in a cute little dress Jaehyun had proudly picked out himself and little sandals that he loved because her tiny toes scrunched up every time she wore them.

But, all the pleasantness of the morning wasn’t why he was moody. Obviously not, it had been a beyond ideal morning. He was moody because you, his wife, had been teasingly poking fun at your daughter about Uncle Johnny.

Stupid Johnny. Johnny who made his daughter get shy and hide and lean toward the obnoxiously tall man. Seriously, who even needed to be that tall? She planted her cute, wet kisses on Johnny’s cheek instead of her own dad, made her cling to Johnny instead of him. He hated it.

You parked outside Johnny's house, unbuckling your daughter from her car seat. You tickled her side, cooing, "are we going to go see your favorite? Are you excited to see Uncle Johnny, princess?"

Jaehyun's face fell into a grimace, following behind his girls with the diaper bag on his shoulder. Suddenly he was wondering why he accepted the invitation for this impromptu barbecue. Maybe he should lie and say he had a stomachache so you all had to go back home, or say that he just saw his daughter have a diaper blow out and there was no extra clothes. Then it was too late, you'd already rung the doorbell.

The door opened to reveal the smiling giant, "Is that my favorite girl?!"

Your daughter hid her face in your neck, smiling shyly but also not objecting to Johnny taking her from your hold. Johnny held her like a total pro, he was the favorite uncle after all, and greeted you and Jaehyun with hugs while ushering you in.

"Look at you, princess! Are you so happy to see Uncle Johnny?" You smiled brightly at your daughter while snapping a quick picture.

Your daughter simple babbled and cuddled closer to Johnny, making her dad's face fall into a deeper frown. You turned to Jaehyun with a knowing, teasing glint in your eye, "she loves him so much."

He grumbled, "she loves me more though."

You wiggled your fingers at your daughter while Johnny toted her around, "I don't know... she's obsessed with Johnny."

Jaehyun glared at you, "it's like you're trying to hurt my feelings right now. A baby can't be obsessed with anyone anyway."

"She's obsessed with me," you shrug.

"You're her mom, duh."

You snort out a laugh, "Try it out then. Try to get her to leave Johnny."

Jaehyun smugly walks over and tries to coax his daughter to him. She furrows her little eyebrows at him and turns back to Johnny, patting his cheek with a look of wonder. Jaehyun scowls, trying again, even going as far as shaking her favorite toy in her eye sight. But nothing, his daughter lays her head on Johnny's shoulder and whines.

"Dude, you're bothering her," Johnny pouts, rubbing his free hand up and down the baby girl's back comfortingly.

Jaehyun pouts and trudges over to you and embraces you while burying his head in your neck, very reminiscent of what his daughter had just done to Johnny, "she hates me."

"Maybe the next one will love you more than Johnny."

His head snaps up, "next one?"

You smile nervously, "surprise?"

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun blurb #jaehyun timestamps #dad!nct

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souliebird · 3 months

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[[and then I met you || ch. 13]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

Words: 5.7k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

The base of your skull pounds as you try to keep focus on the things going on around you. It is almost impossible, as you just want to close your eyes and block out everything.

You had woken up with a stiffness in your neck and shoulders that had quickly spiraled into the beginnings of a migraine. You hadn't had one since you were pregnant and now that you had a toddler, spending the day in bed and hiding under covers was not an option.

The gods seem to have smiled down on you, though. It is Saturday, which means it is Daddy Daughter Date Day and Matt is more than happy to keep Minnie’s attention on him. You don't have to watch her like a hawk. You can just sit and wait until your ibuprofen kicks in.

If it ever does.

You know drinking water will probably help, so you shakily reach for your glass.

Beside you, your daughter is none the wiser to your distress. Last night, a new toy arrived in the mail, and she was insistent it must be brought to lunch so she could show her Daddy and play with him. It is a friendship bracelet making kit - the type that has beads of all different shapes and colors - and it is a hit. Minnie and Matt have been making each other bracelets as you wait for your food.

“Can you please find me another ‘O’?” the nearly perfect man across from you asks your sweet toddler. “Like in ‘Octopus’.”

“‘O’ for octopus!” Mouse quickly confirms. She sets down her string of multi-color shapes and pulls the little box of beads closer to her. She picks up the discs that have letters on them, proudly showing off her ability to identify them by stating what each letter is until she finds the one, she's looking for. Once it is found, it is carefully passed across the table. “‘O’ for octopus!”

You have not been paying attention to the letters Matt has been collecting and thus have no clue what he intends to spell, but you're guessing it won't matter much to your daughter. She's going to be thrilled either way. You have a hunch that the feeling is mutual with Matt - whatever Minnie gives him, he'll proudly wear. Right now, the bracelet in her hands is a mixture of pink hearts with purple and yellow plain beads. There isn't a method to the madness beyond that.

Your table falls back into silence. Mouse is enthralled with her task of threading and Matt is equally quiet. You think he is aware of your headache, as he's been soft spoken since you met up and hasn't been trying to make your little one laugh and squeal with glee. You're incredibly thankful for that.

You resist the urge to close your eyes and instead find a scratch on the table's surface to stare blankly at and wait for time to pass. Hands pass through your field of vision to collect different beads and you hear farther-daughter talking, but you don't process any of it. All you know is the pain creeping around your skull. You are aware of how your eyes sit in your head and it is a very weird, unsettling feeling that helps nothing.

You pray this outing has enough stimulation for Minnie, so that when you go home, she'll go down for a nap easily and you can join her.

You don't know how long you sit there, spacing out while the world moves on without you, but eventually Linda drops your plates in front of you. You fall into autopilot, saying, “Thank you, Miss Linda” in chorus with Matt and Minnie. After a quick cooing over how sweet your little family is, the waitress leaves you be, and you turn your focus to your daughter's plate.

It's chicken strips and french fries today and you know she needs her ketchup and mustard. Before you can start to reach for the bottles at the end of the table, Matt is already taking them and addressing Mouse, “You like it with more mustard than ketchup, right?”

“More mustard!” She happily replies as she lays her napkin across her lap.

You watch with slightly parted lips as he starts squeezing the condiments onto her plate. You aren't used to anyone taking over this responsibility and you don't know how to react - it is nice to have the help and to see he's learned so much about Minnie's habits, but your mind can't help but chastise you for letting him do this menial task. You know he's her father, but it feels like something you should be doing.

Of course, you are the only one having conflicting feelings. They are having a good time - Matt makes two piles of sauces and Minnie instantly starts swirling them together with her food, a big grin on her face. You try to offer a smile back, but you don't know how sincere it is. Your head hurts so much, and your anxiety is spiking.

You are shaken from your daze when Matt says your name. You look up to see his head tilted just slightly, the slightest frown on his face. Guilt courses through you.

“You sure you don't want any coffee? The caffeine should help with,” he motions to his head, and it just confirms for you that he is always hyper aware of everything, and that Minnie must be too.

You need to get your act together. You can't just zone out because you don't feel well - you're a parent and you are out in public. You can't just dump all your responsibilities onto Matt because he is here now.

You shake your head, even if it makes you dizzy, “No, I'll be okay.”

The truth is the idea of coffee makes your stomach turn. You don't want anything that tastes too strongly, which is why you have opted for a Cobb salad for lunch.

The man across from you gives you a doubtful look. To keep him from worrying over you, you stab a piece of tomato and eat it. It tastes like nothing and that is fine for you. This earns a frown, but the gods smile on you again and your daughter causes a distraction by starting to play with her food.

Mouse picks up a chicken strip and begins to make it hop around the plate before dunking it into her now orange mixture. “Oh no, you're all messy now,” she says to herself, “I gotta clean you.” She then proceeds to lick the sauce away with exaggerated sounds. Matt makes a face of pure disgust.

“Sweetie, what are you doing?”

“I'm a kitty!” is her proud response before repeating the process.

You know this game well but it's the first time he has experienced it. He knows you allow her to play with her food as long as she's not messy and actually eats it, but you can tell he wants to ask her not to. You are open to him making suggestions and asking Minnie to do things, and he knows that, and you wonder what direction he will take. You can see the wheels turning in his head.

“I thought you were a mouse,” is what he goes with.

That stops Minnie dead in her tracks. She considers this statement, a pout forming, before bringing her chicken strip to her mouth and beginning to nibble at it - like a mouse with a piece of cheese.

The rest of the meal is subdued. You manage to eat a third of your salad through sheer force of will - having an empty stomach will only make things worse - and Mouse only needs her face wiped a handful of times. It feels like the minutes crawl by before Linda is back at your table to take away plates and hand over the check.

Packing up is quick and easy. There are no loose beads on the table, so you just need to snap the case shut and store it into your bag, along with anything else that was brought out for Minnie’s needs. As you do this, Matt finishes off both bracelets by tying the ends together and once he is done, you stop what you're doing to watch the exchange.

He returns the bracelet Minnie made for him to her and she hugs it to her chest.

“Daddy, yous gotta put out your hand. I have something for you,” she says like it is any sort of surprise.

But of course, Matt plays along. He does as he is told, holding out the hand not holding the bracelet he made, “You got something for me?”

Very delicately, like it's going to break, Mouse places the bracelet into his palm. Only when she is fully sitting in her seat again does he begin to run his thumb over the beads, feeling what she made for him. His lips twitch up into a smile before he starts to bite his lip. You've learned this means he's trying to not get overly emotional, and you completely understand.

Having Minnie’s love is the only thing keeping you going some days and you've cried multiple times when she's given you something she's made for you.

“I love it,” he whispers, his voice breaking a tiny bit. “Thank you so much, sweetheart.”

You and Minnie watch as he slips the bracelet on, and it settles next to his watch. The bright colors stand out against his muted palette, but you doubt he cares about that. Your daughter absolutely beams when he holds up his wrist to show off his new piece of jewelry.

“You're welcome, Daddy! Do you have a present for me?” Mouse asks, jutting her hands out, palms up.

You can't help but huff in amusement, even if your headache is making you feel cold and detached. You know she isn't being greedy or rude, she's simply an eager toddler. You can't fault her for that.

Oh, so carefully, Matt sets the bracelet into her waiting hands and once you finally realize what he wrote out on it, your heart clenches at the sweetness. The bracelet is mostly made up of lettered beads, with the words separated by different colored hearts. Minnie quickly brings it right up to her face to inspect it and instantly starts trying to figure out the mystery in front of her.

“D-A-D-D-Y,” she spells out loud, “L-O-V-E-S. Y.O.U.” Her little brow wrinkles up at the words and you wait to see if she needs help figuring them out. They aren't unknown to her, but it's usually a flip of a coin if she can connect the dots. The only word you are confident she recognizes is her name.

She spells it again, then tries her best to sound it out, “Duh..Ahh duh duh…why. Duh-ah-du- Daddy! It says Daddy!”

You rub her back, silently trying to communicate how proud of her you are, “That's right, it says Daddy. Do you know the other words?”

While she considers her answer, you look at Matt.

He hasn't shaved in a few days. It emphasizes his good looks, and you can see the hints of red - and grey - in his grown-out scruff. His charming and sweet appearance is only enhanced by his heart - you didn't know someone could be so full of love. He radiates it when he's around Minnie and it's like he can't help but pour all of his affection into her and he can't believe how much of it is returned.

You wonder if you were put on Earth to give him Minnie - and you wouldn't mind if you were. It would give you some sort of purpose.

“Mommy,” your precious angel says, thrusting the bracelet into your face, “you read it.”

You feel your face heat up - and throb - at the way Matt turns to you. Your insides pang and you can't help but feel like you're ruining this moment for him. You clear your throat, and tell Minnie, “It says ‘Daddy loves you.’”

Her eyes go wide, and she gasps like it is breaking news, “Daddy loves me?”

“Daddy loves you,” Matt instantly confirms, “always and forever. And you'll have this to remind you.”

The sentiment stirs so much in you, and you let your headache push it all away and instead of getting emotional, you help Mouse put on her new bracelet. She rips her arm away from you as soon as she can to mimic her Daddy and holds up her wrist to show off her bracelet.

“I love Daddy, too!”

The little anxiety and self-doubt demon stirs in your chest. You love to see them bond, but you can't help but yearn for your daughter to shout she loves you, too, and you want your own bracelet. You know, you know, you are going to be overflowing with bracelets soon enough, but these ones are special. They have meaning and memories and -

And you remind yourself you can't do this in public, especially not around Minnie. You can't ruin their good time - if you haven't already.

Instead, you gently pat her back and ask, “What do you say to Daddy for the gift?”

“Thank you, Daddy!”

“You're very welcome, Mouse.”

Your daughter looks at her new piece of jewelry in amazement, turning her wrist so she can see all angles. With her distracted, you move to finish packing up by going to get the stroller, and by the time you have it popped open and your bag secured in the under pocket, Matt and Minnie are joining you by the doorway. Your little one needs no help buckling herself in and you can tell how happy she is by the way she kicks her feet.

As you get in position to start pushing the stroller, Matt steps to stand beside you so you can guide him as you walk. He waits until you leave the diner to address you.

“We don't need to go to the park,” he says in a soft voice.

You are shaking your head before he even finishes his sentence, “It’s fine, Matt. It's just a headache.” It isn't just a headache - your medicine hasn't kicked in and your head is just pulsing, but you will survive.

He very gently squeezes your elbow, saying your name, “you know I can tell that isn't true. You should be -”

“FROGGY!”

Minnie’s excited scream drowns out whatever he was going to push for.

On the corner ahead of you, waiting at the crosswalk are Foggy and Karen. They look like they are on a shopping trip - both carrying bags from different boutiques. They turn in unison towards you and Foggy breaks into the biggest smile once he spies your little group.

“Well, if it isn't my favorite little buddy! And her charming and beautiful parents. Wait,” he looks to Karen and gasps, eyes getting comically big, “is this the famous Saturday brunch?” He whirls around dramatically and points to Matt, like he is accusing him, “You're going to the park.”

“We're going to the park,” he confirms, his own grin starting to form at the antics and at the same time, Minnie exclaims, “we're gonna watch the duckies!”

“They are going to watch the duckies, Karen. Do you know what that does to my heart?” Foggy asks as he puts his hand on his chest. Karen shakes her head fondly and completely ignores him to address you.

“We've heard so many stories about the ducks. He gloats every Monday.”

Matt actually pouts at the statement, and you are reminded of a chastised puppy, “I don't gloat.”

“You gloat,” his friends say at the same time.

Minnie, of course, picks up quickly on the new word and kicks her feet as she giggles, “Daddy goats!”

A thought barely crosses your mind before the words are leaving your lips, “You should come with us.”

You can practically feel Matt's initial disapproval of the offer - not from selfishness but from you refusing to acknowledge your headache - but with how both Minnie and Foggy light up, you don't think he'll voice it. And you are right - he gives your arm a light squeeze as he agrees without any disdain, “The more the merrier.”

“I don't think this is an offer we can refuse,” Karen says, nudging Foggy with her elbow. “How can we say no to that face?”

You can't see Minnie’s face from behind her stroller, but you can picture her pleading little face. She has all of you wrapped around her little finger and you suspect she might start crying if they say no.

“To the park we go!” Foggy declares, “and with perfect timing because the light just turned green.”

You let yourself tune out as you start to walk again. Foggy is animatedly telling Matt and Minnie about his quest to find his girlfriend the perfect birthday gift. Apparently, her preferred brand of hand lotion has been discontinued and nothing else is good enough. It is sweet to hear him being so concerned about her needs and wants. He's the type of partner you used to dream about - before you realized that would never be in the cards for you - someone who listens to what you say and doesn't treat you like a glorified maid.

You only had two ‘serious’ relationships in your twenties and both had left you feeling worthless and unloved. You spent most of your time commuting to them and taking care of their needs only to be tossed aside when someone worth their time came along.

You were the type to stay at home and do the laundry, raise the children - be out of sight and out of mind. You didn't get taken out on fancy dates. No one tried to woo you.

No one went out of their way to buy you a gift.

In fact, you don't remember the last time you even celebrated your birthday. Some of your coworkers sent you Happy Birthday emails last year - only because the first one is sent out company wide and you are pretty sure it's automated.

You are fine with it, though. It's not like you celebrated such things as a kid, so you have nothing to miss. You are happy Foggy has someone he so clearly adores, and you hope, when Minnie grows up, she'll find someone like him.

Soon enough, you're at the park and making your way to your designated spot. Despite it being a warm and sunny day, things are relatively empty, and you are thankful there are no older children shouting or causing a ruckus. You just want to sit down.

You can hear Minnie unbuckling herself before you roll to a stop and there is a whirl of motion as you park. She's on the grass before you know it, scurrying like her namesake to get the picnic blanket out of its pocket and spread out. As you wait for her to finish setting up and Karen admires what a nice area you’ve picked, you realize Matt not only still has his hand on your bicep, but his thumb has been gently rubbing in a small circle.

Your heart stutters in your chest and you don't know why he's doing such a thing and now that you're aware of it, it's all you can focus on. Your entire body feels like it is on fire - from his touch, from the situation, from your headache - and you fear making a complete idiot of yourself. Foggy and Karen are here, and you don't want to embarrass Matt.

“Mommy, I need my sunnies!” Your perfect little distraction says from the other side of the stroller and it's the excuse you need to pull away from Matt. You kneel and rummage in your bag until you find the pink Barbie glasses and hand them over to your daughter, then take the time to pull yours out as well.

By the time you get them on and lock the stroller, everyone else is on the blanket. You situate yourself beside Minnie and tell yourself you need to pay attention as she enthusiastically begins to point out ducks to Foggy and Karen.

“That's Moose, he's mean!” She describes to her new friends, while grabbing Matt's hand so she can turn him in the right direction. You aren't sure if he really needs it - you haven't sat down and spoken about his needs since the revelation about his and Minnie’s senses. You make note to do that.

You listen to the back and forth about your daughter's favorite duck characters and story lines, trying to desperately be in the moment. The warm sun feels good on your skin, and you yearn to just flop over and close your eyes. The tension and pain seem to only be increasing. This may turn into a full-blown migraine.

As you start to mentally debate taking more ibuprofen, Minnie cuts herself off from describing how Moose is a food thief and whips her head towards the street, eyes going big. It very much reminds you of a dog that has caught the scent of a prey animal.

Foggy snorts with laughter at your daughter's expression, “Oh my God, she's just like Matt. What do you hear, girl? Is Timmy in a well?”

That has you wondering how often Matt gets his attention drawn away by something only he can sense and how many times Foggy has made that joke to him.

You don't get a chance to ask, because Mouse is turning her big begging eyes on you now, “Mommy, it's the ice cream man! Can we get ice cream? Please, please, please, please?” She is practically vibrating with desire, and you are not going to deny her anything.

“You can get a small ice cream,” you tell her, like it's a compromise. “You don't want your tummy to hurt later.”

She lets out a shriek of joy and scrambles up. To everyone's amusement, she starts digging through your bag for your wallet, and once she finds it, runs it back to you, held over her head like it's a prize. She practically crashes into you, the biggest smile on her face, and you do a scoop and turn maneuver to sit her in your lap.

“Would you like any ice cream?” you ask the three friends sitting with you, not wanting anyone to feel excluded.

Foggy pushes himself up into standing before you finish getting the words out of your mouth, “Of course we want ice cream, what kind of question is that? Do I look like I say no to ice cream?”

“Oh, a cone does sound really good,” Karen muses beside you.

“Then ice cream it is,” Matt declares, getting up as well. “My treat,” he adds much to your dismay. You don't get to protest, as he barrels on, holding his free hand out to Minnie, “Want to lead the way, sweetheart?”

Your daughter practically leaps up to grab onto her Daddy, demanding, “Carry me!”

“Minnie!” You quickly chastise, shame running through you. She knows better than to jump and climb on people, but you are beginning to fear Matt may become her new jungle gym. No one else shares this worry, least of all Matt, who simply gives into his daughter's will and swings her up onto his hip with a laugh. She clings to his neck and shoulder, and because she is sweet as pie, plants a big kiss on his cheek.

Everything happens so fast that you are still sitting on the blanket with Karen, and you don't even think of standing before Foggy is looking down at you and Karen, “What flavor do you want?”

“I'm feeling chocolate,” the strawberry blonde hums, tapping her index finger on her chin.

The shame and anxiety demon is growing in your throat at the implication you and Karen will stay while the men and your daughter fetch dessert. You want to say that you can pay and that you can go get it - that they should spend the time relaxing - but the darkness in your mind screams that if you say anything other than ‘vanilla’, you're going to ruin everything. Minnie's fun will stop, and Matt's friends are going to judge you, and thus him, and you can't do that.

So, you croak out your preference and hope Matt's super senses are too focused on his daughter to notice you are two steps away from a breakdown.

“One chocolate, one vanilla, coming right up,” Foggy says so cheerfully and you wonder if he is always like this, or if it is an act for Minnie. You honestly can't tell, especially when he turns his attention to your little one, “Okay, Lassie, where's the ice cream truck?”

Matt and Karen laugh at the reference, and you force a smile because it is a cute joke. Minnie points over her Daddy's shoulder towards the road and directs, “That way!”

Matt, managing to keep a straight face, purposely turns to face the river and takes a step towards it, “this way?”

“No, Daddy! Other way!”

“Ah,” he pivots to his left, so he is facing the bushes that border the edge of the park, “This way.”

Mouse dissolves into giggles, hiding her face against his neck and Matt gets the sweetest, dopiest smile on his face - like this is the best moment of his life. It makes your heart sing to see them play and tease and you wish so desperately you weren't in agony so you could actually enjoy it.

Your daughter must say something to Matt, as he lets out a loud barking laugh before kissing the top of her head, “Okay, okay, we won't miss the ice cream. Fog, would you be so kind?” He motions to the sidewalk with the hand holding his cane and there must be an understanding, as the blonde man holds out his arm for Matt to take. The cane is expertly folded up and the two men and your daughter start walking towards the road. It doesn't take more than a few steps for all of them to start laughing again.

You and Karen watch as they disappear down the sidewalk. The woman beside you is smiling softly, clearly enjoying the show that is Matt with Minnie. You hope you are smiling as well and not looking like some sort of summer Grinch.

“You know,” Karen says a few moments after they turn around a corner and go out of sight, “I don't remember the last time I saw him smile so much.”

You turn your attention to her, ducking your head just slightly, “she adores him.”

“And he adores her,” she quickly confirms. “And you.” You doubt that but know better than to try to argue. It doesn't matter, anyways, because she doesn't give you room to, continuing on, “He's been through a lot - not just his childhood but recently, too. I was really scared for him. We thought…we thought we lost him.” Your heart clenches tightly at the conversation. Karen switches from a soft smile to biting her lips and looking like she might start crying at the memories she's bringing up inside herself. “He's a good man but, truth be told, he's an idiot sometimes. He thought he was alone. That he had to be alone.”

You are lucky you are wearing your glasses because you can't bring yourself to look at Karen. It hurts to hear her talk about Matt in that way. You haven't had this sort of conversation with him - everything has been so surface level or about Minnie. You clear your throat and ask, “What about you and Foggy? You all seem very close.”

Karen laughs a little sadly, then tucks some hair behind her ear, “He and Foggy weren't talking. It was all…complicated. But it's better now. We're all good. Or we are working in it.” She takes a breath, and you see her look up, and you think she's smiling at you, “The point is he's…I don't worry anymore. You came into his life, and it is like you knocked some sense into him. He was never good at taking care of himself and now, he puts in the effort. He doesn't want to disappoint you. He wants to be a good dad.”

Her words confuse you - Matt seems very put together - he's a lawyer with amazing accomplishments under his belt. She must be talking about his personal life and fear trickles into your system. Was he an alcoholic or a drug user? As long as it was all behind him, you can't judge him for it. You know people have spotty pasts and even good people have rough times - and that doesn't make them any less of a good person. You'd be a hypocrite if you did think less of him because you've had your own share of troubles.

You want Karen to know that. You start to pick at the hem of your jeans, so you have something to do with your hands while your mind free-fall. “He's a good dad,” you start slowly. “He's amazing with Minnie. He's so attentive and understanding and I love watching them play. I'm still getting used to the whole…” you lower your voice, just in case, “super-senses thing, but he's been helpful in explaining things. I’m just glad he wants to be in her life.”

“Are hers as good as his?” She asks and you can feel her leaning towards you. You don't know the answer to that, as Matt hasn't exactly explained in detail what he is able to do, but you do know Minnie has abilities you didn't know were possible.

You shrug in response, “I'm not sure, but…I don't hear or see an ice cream truck, so.”

She laughs at that, then you fall back into a silence. You can tell she wants to ask more, but you aren't sure why she hesitates. You are grateful for it, though, and behind your glasses, you close your eyes. The back of your skull is throbbing and part of it has curled around to your left ear. You resist the urge to try to massage it away and instead try to stretch, letting your chin touch your collar bone. You focus on breathing through your nose, hoping it will magically make things more tolerable.

Your mind feels like sludge, and you start wondering how long it will take until Minnie is worn out. You usually end up spending about an hour and a half at the park, enjoying the sun and ducks, and you've only just gotten here. You have no idea if it will go quicker or slower with more people for Mouse to interact with. Usually, she stays in your lap, hiding away from people, but she very obliviously loves Foggy. You think it is because he's good with children - Matt told you he has a big extended family. She had opened up to him very quickly once she realized he is Matt's best friend. Best friend is an important word to a toddler, apparently.

“It isn't just Minnie,” Karen says suddenly, bringing you back to reality. You frown at her, not understanding what she's talking about. Had you missed part of the conversation?

“It isn't just Minnie,” she repeats, “it's you, too.”

You feel like a lost lamb. Your brain hasn't caught up with what is going on and all you can do is gawk at the woman beside you.

“Me…?” You question and she nods.

“You make him happy, too.”

You don't understand why she's telling you that or what it has to do with anything. You get you've made Matt happy by bringing Minnie into his life. The only response you can think to give is a simple, “I'm glad.”

You can feel Karen examining you, but you refuse to meet her gaze. You don't think that was the right thing to say, but it is all you have. You are glad bringing Minnie into Matt's life has made him happy and seemingly changed things for the better for him. You want him to have a good life.

In the corner of your eye, you see Karen reach out and you brace yourself as she puts her hand on your shoulder. She says your name, then gently questions, “Are you doing alright? You look pale.”

You force yourself to smile and give a dismissive shake of your head, “Just a little headache. I took some ibuprofen; it just hasn't kicked in yet.”

She quickly drops her hand, humming in sympathy, “I get that. I have some Motrin in my purse, if you need something stronger.”

“Oh, no, I'll be okay,” you promise.

You'll have to be okay. Minnie and Matt will be back from getting ice cream any minute and you will need to go into Mom-mode to make sure your daughter doesn't make an absolute mess of herself. Then, you'll need to keep an eye on her while you remain at the park for however long, because you will never forgive yourself if you give any indication to Matt's friends that you're not a suitable parent.

You just need to take a deep breath and make sure you don't space out again.

You'll be fine.

After all, it is just a headache.

Tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@petrovafire39 @allllium

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

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@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare

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@starry-night-20 @rebeccapineapple @writtenbyred @cherrypie5 @capswife @silvercharacterchaos

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #and then i met you

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tigertales9 · 7 months

Text

Hard Reset

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: The first game of the 2023 season didn't go well. This fic covers the aftermath with a quick flashback to the game.

Time/Place: Monday, Sep. 11, 2023 (the day after the week 1 loss to Cleveland) / Cincinnati, Ohio

Edit: Explanation is here

Here's the follow-up - Hard Reset II

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You wake up slowly, stretching and yawning before turning your head to look at Joe; he's still asleep, his lips slightly parted and his messy hair fanned out against his pillow. You ease out of bed -- careful not to wake him -- and walk into the bathroom, quickly peeing and washing your face before heading downstairs to make coffee.

You roll your shoulders and stretch a bit while you wait for the coffee to be done. Your entire body feels a little sore from literally tensing most of your muscles throughout yesterday's game in Cleveland. Between the awful weather, the lackluster offense, and Joe looking like he was one wrong move away from getting hurt, the game had been a miserable experience.

You pour a cup of coffee and add a splash of salted caramel creamer before taking a seat at the kitchen island, your mind rewinding back to yesterday.

~ ~ ~

You'd been anxious well before kick-off, worried that the team was rushing Joe back before his calf injury was fully healed. The steady rain had kicked your anxiety into overdrive, you and Joe's mom exchanging worried looks while his dad tried to remain stoic. It became obvious fairly quickly that Joe was hampered by the calf, not really rolling out or scrambling as well as usual. Every hit he took, every time he slipped on the wet turf, your heart jumped into your throat. The fact that he got out of Cleveland without getting anything but his ego hurt seemed like a damn miracle.

And his ego was definitely hurt, you think to yourself, remembering the look on his face when he got home late Sunday night after the game. You'd been home long enough to shower and change clothes before he came in; you hurried to hug him as soon as he walked through the door, pressing your face against his broad chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

"You okay?" you asked. "I'm fine," he grumbled, "and I really don't wanna talk about it," he continued, dropping a kiss on your forehead to soften his words. You leaned back and looked up into his face. "You hungry?" you asked, biting your lip when he shook his head no. "Can we just go to bed?" he asked, giving you a tired smile as you took his hand and led him toward the stairs.

~ ~ ~

The sound of Joe ambling down the stairs snaps you back to the present (Monday morning); you spin your barstool toward him and give him a smile, taking in his wild hair and grumpy expression.

"Good morning, sunshine," you chuckle. "Morning," he mutters, dropping a quick kiss on your lips before heading to the fridge to grab the orange juice. You zero in on his gait, trying hard to decide if he's limping or just doing his usual long-legged, loose-hipped stride.

"Calf feels fine, babe," he states, throwing you a knowing look over his shoulder.

"How did you know I was looking at your calf?" you scoff. "Your back was to me."

He takes a sip of his juice before answering. "Were you looking at my calf?"

"Maybe," you shrug, rolling your eyes playfully when he gives you a smug grin. "So it feels good?"

"It feels … fine," he answers, giving you a 'don't go there' look.

You really want to 'go there' but decide not to. "You want some breakfast?"

"Yeah, I'm starving," he groans, sitting beside you at the island while you list possible breakfast items.

"How does an omelet sound? And maybe some avocado toast?"

"Yes and yes," he chirps, his demeanor perking up at the thought of yummy food.

About forty minutes later you watch him finish the last bite on his plate. "That was delicious," he moans, giving you a smile while rubbing his stomach. "Wish I could go straight back to bed for a nap," he sighs. "I didn't sleep worth a shit last night, but I need to get to the facility."

"Too bad you have to go on your day off," you mumble, cutting the last bite of your avocado toast in half and handing him a portion.

"Yeah." He pops the tasty morsel in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before giving you a shrug. "But you know how it is. Gotta get treatment -- maybe watch a little film while I'm there -- then I can come home and take a nap."

You nod your head before responding. "Anybody coming over to watch the Bills & Jets game tonight?"

"No. I don't feel like having anybody over." He stands up and grabs both of your plates. "Guess it'll just be you and me," he continues, quickly rinsing the dishes before loading them into the dishwasher.

He walks to the stove to grab the skillet and you shoo him away. "I'll take care of that," you state, standing on your tiptoes to give him a kiss before he turns and heads for the stairs; you watch him carefully as he walks away from you, giving him a bland smile when he shoots you a look over his shoulder. "I was looking at your ass not your calf," you lie, smiling at the sound of his laughter as he disappears upstairs.

~ ~ ~

Several hours later after a shared nap and a 'cheat day' pizza dinner, y'all are snuggled on the sofa watching the lead-up to Monday Night Football.

"Think it's gonna be a good game," you ask, smiling at his inelegant snort. "Who knows," he sighs. "I just hope both teams put on a better show than we did yesterday. We sucked ass, especially me."

"You were playing in shitty weather after missing damn near all of training camp," you grumble. "Give yourself a break, okay?"

He turns his head and locks eyes with you. "I just signed a 275 million dollar contract. There are no 'breaks' when that kind of money has been handed to you."

"You earned every penny of that and then some," you retort. "This franchise has gone from being an absolute joke to a top contender because of you." You take a deep breath before plowing ahead. "What you've accomplished in just two full seasons is mind-blowing and …"

"Babe?" he interrupts.

"What?"

"None of that changes the fact that I sucked ass yesterday."

"But you weren't 100%."

"Tough shit. I've never made excuses and I refuse to start now."

You stare at each other for several heartbeats before you break the silence. "You're right. Sorry."

"No need to apologize."

You give him a smile. "Didn't mean to get my panties in a wad over it."

"Need some help with that?" he chuckles, sliding a hand up your thigh, laughing even harder when you playfully slap it away. "Easy there, horndog. You're about to miss Mr. Rodgers running out waving the flag." You point at the TV and Joe turns his head to watch. "This is some high-octane drama," he murmurs, shaking his head as y'all watch the remainder of the pre-game festivities in silence.

A little while later you head to the kitchen to grab some water. "That pizza was salty as hell," you mutter, guzzling most of your glass before refilling it, almost dropping it when you hear Joe holler.

"Oh shit!"

"What is it?" you chirp, setting your glass on the kitchen counter and hurrying back to Joe, your gaze locking on the TV as the replay rolls.

"Aaron went down really awkward," Joe mutters, standing up off the sofa to walk closer to the TV. "Looked like his cleat got stuck in the turf." You walk up beside him and watch the replay again, now in super slow-mo. "Jesus, it's his fucking Achilles," Joe whispers, running a hand through his hair in agitation as he watches the trainers help Aaron off the field.

"He's putting some weight on it," you offer hopefully. "Maybe it's not that bad."

"It's bad," he mumbles, pulling his phone out and doing a quick search. "Fuck," he breathes, shaking his head as he watches something, rewinding it a few times.

"What are you watching?"

"A man's Achilles tendon snap like a brittle rubber band."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Don't look too close at that replay or you'll see it too." His eyebrows slowly creep up when his phone starts blowing up with texts. He bites his lip while looking at the display.

"Who's texting you?"

"Just some teammates … and my parents."

"You're not gonna answer them?"

"No, because I know exactly what they're gonna say."

"What?"

He takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling for a minute before locking eyes with you. "Aaron had a calf strain like mine back during OTAs. Folks are gonna say that his Achilles injury is proof I shouldn't be playing until my calf is 100% healed."

"Was his calf strain on the same leg as the Achilles injury?"

"No, but overcompensating and favoring one leg over the other can result in an injury to the good leg."

"So it sounds like you shouldn't be playing until your calf is fully healed, right? Or you risk either making the calf injury worse or sustaining an overcompensation injury."

"No," he shakes his head in annoyance. "Aaron is older than me and has had calf issues his entire career. Plus, his cleat got stuck in the fucking turf. It's bad luck not an overcompensation injury."

His phone rings and he stares at it for a second before ignoring it.

"Who's that?"

"Mom." He makes a 'don't go there' face when you open your mouth to say something; you glare at him for several heartbeats before you're startled by your own phone ringing. You quickly check the display as Joe speaks up. "If that's my mom don't answer it."

"Hey Robin," you say, turning your back on Joe when he rolls his eyes. "I'm not talking to her," he says loudly, his expression totally belligerent when you spin around and lock eyes with him. "Well, I am!" you snap. "And I know you're not gonna tell me who I can and can't talk to!"

He's smart enough to keep his mouth shut as you continue your conversation with his mom. "Yeah, it's super concerning since it's the same injury Joe has. Something about overcompensating a calf strain makes you really vulnerable to an Achilles injury." Joe makes a snorting noise and you cut your eyes at him while continuing. "Well, he's a hard-headed, stubborn asshole when it comes to stuff like this, so no way he's gonna listen to us about it."

"Damn right," he mutters, ignoring your warning look while picking at his thumbnail.

"Okay, I'll tell him," you sigh, ending the call and hitting Joe with an exasperated look. "Your mom would like to talk to you when you feel like it."

"It's not gonna be tonight," he states. "And it may not be for a while since I don't feel like hearing a bunch of crap about why I shouldn't be playing."

"She's just worried about you, Joe. We all are."

"That's nice, but I don't wanna talk about it with anybody right now." You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off. "That includes you."

You heave a sigh and lick your lips before responding. "But …"

"Drop it!" he snaps, immediately grimacing when he sees the look on your face. "Fine," you whisper, brushing his hand off your arm as he reaches out to touch you. "I didn't mean for it to come out like that," he mumbles, following you as you turn and head toward the kitchen; halfway there you hear his phone ring, your eyes going wide when he answers it.

"Hey Coach," he mutters, turning back toward the living room as you continue into the kitchen.

"Of course he answers Coach's call," you grumble, stopping just out of sight to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Yeah, I saw it," Joe says. "Looked like his cleat got caught in the turf. It's def a ruptured Achilles." He listens for a minute before speaking back up. "As far as I'm concerned this changes nothing for me. I intend to play Sunday as long as I don't have any setbacks between now and then."

You let out the breath you didn't realize you were holding and walk farther into the kitchen, grabbing your water glass to refill it before setting it back down. "Fuck it," you mumble, reaching into a cabinet for a wine glass before pulling a bottle of rosé out of the fridge; you pour a large serving and take a couple of sips before heading toward the stairs, rolling your eyes when you hear Joe talking about some offensive scheme with Coach Taylor.

Fifteen minutes later you're chin deep in a bubble bath, the only light in the bathroom coming from several candles; you take a sip of cold wine and hold it on your tongue for a bit before swallowing, your pulse picking up when you hear a soft knock at the door.

"Can I come in?" Joe calls.

"Yeah," you answer, setting your glass on the tub ledge as he opens the door and slowly approaches you; he drops to his knees beside the oversized tub and blinks a few times as his eyes adjust to the semi-darkness. "I'm sorry I snapped at you," he states. "I'm under a lot of pressure, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

You take in his earnest expression, struck speechless for a few seconds at how achingly beautiful his face is in the flickering candlelight. "I understand," you finally concede. "I just wish you'd talk to me about it instead of shutting me down."

"There's nothing to talk about because my mind's made up. If practice goes well this week -- and I receive clearance to play -- I'm taking the field this Sunday. I'm sorry if that makes you mad."

"I'm not mad. I'm scared," you whisper, blinking your eyes rapidly to try and keep tears from falling.

He bites his bottom lip and leans in closer. "Babe, I'm not gonna lie and say there's nothing to be scared of because you never know what's gonna happen in this sport. Here's the thing though." He runs a hand through his hair before continuing. "I could bubble-wrap my entire body and sit out until I feel 100% healthy," he shrugs, "but the second I step back on the field I'm at risk just like every other player. Instead of a calf it might be another blown-out knee, cracked ribs, a bad concussion …"

"You're making me feel a lot better, thanks," you butt in, grabbing your wine glass and taking a hearty gulp.

"My point is … guys get hurt every week. You can't play scared, though, or you might as well just go ahead and hang 'em up." He takes a deep breath and let's it out slowly. "You went through my knee rehab with me so you know it was hell. But we came out the other side stronger than ever. If, God forbid, something like that happens again, I know we'll get through it, okay?"

"I guess it has to be okay," you sigh. "I mean this is your job. It's violent as hell, and it may get you permanently maimed or worse one of these days, but unfortunately you're really good at it."

He gives a snort of laughter while shaking his head. "Unfortunately?"

"That was a little harsh," you admit, watching as he stands up and strips his clothes off.

"Scoot forward," he orders, stepping into the tub behind you as you do his bidding; he eases into the warm, frothy water, his long legs stretching out on either side of you as he pulls you back against him, your back to his chest.

Once he's settled he digs his fingers into your shoulder muscles, working out the tension as you give an appreciative moan. "That feels good," you whisper, your toes curling as he moves to your neck muscles, taking his time to give you a thorough neck and shoulder massage before dipping his hands below the water surface to rest on your thighs. "How did you know my thighs are sore?" you sigh, your eyes sliding closed in pleasure as his big hands knead your sore thigh muscles.

"Because I'm guessing you were so tense at the game yesterday you could've cracked a walnut with your buttcheeks."

"You have a way with words," you giggle, taking a sip of wine before setting the glass on the tub ledge and relaxing back against him. He continues to massage your thighs for several minutes, his right hand edging closer to your crotch before he finally ghosts his fingertips over your folds; your body reacts instantly but your mind refuses to play along. You wait a minute to see if you can get in the mood before dropping a hand down and gently moving his hand back onto your thigh. "I'm not in the right headspace for that," you murmur. "My body's saying yes but my mind's saying no."

"It's okay," he soothes, pressing a kiss on your neck. "I just thought some endorphins might help you relax."

"Absolutely would if I could shut my damn brain off for a few minutes." A thought hits you. "If you want me to get you off I'll be happy to."

"I'm not really in the right headspace, either."

Y'all fall silent for a bit before he speaks back up. "Since we're both tired as hell why don't we get in bed, put something boring on TV and hope it lulls us to sleep."

"Sounds good," you sigh, easing out of the tub and drying off before brushing your teeth; you step into a pair of panties as Joe blows out the candles, a smile gracing your lips at the comforting feel of his hand on the small of your back as he follows you into the bedroom.

~ ~ ~

The next morning (Tuesday) you're in the kitchen making breakfast burritos when Joe comes down the stairs already dressed for the day.

"Smells delicious," he says, watching you roll up two fat burritos before setting them on a hot griddle to get toasty. "What's in 'em?"

"Eggs, spicy turkey sausage, onion, red bell pepper, poblano, jalapeno, and some chipotle salsa."

"Yum," he groans, grabbing a couple of plates as you flip the burritos, smiling down at you as y'all wait for the second side to get golden.

"Did you sleep okay? he asks, dropping a kiss on your lips. "Not really. Check out these dark circles," you grimace, pointing at your face. "Your barely-there dark circles ain't got nothing on this huge zit," he grumps, pointing at a miniscule dot on his chin. You squint your eyes and lean in close. "Boy please," you scoff. "It doesn't count if you need a magnifying glass to see it."

"It's not nice to talk about Travis Kelce's dick like that, babe," he deadpans, both of you cackling like hyenas for a bit before settling down.

Y'all eventually sit down at the table and exchange small talk over breakfast, mostly about your plans for the day:

his plans = work-out, treatment, film session

your plans = work-out, virtual meeting for work, errands

Once breakfast is done you slide the last dish into the dishwasher just as Joe's phone rings; he checks the display before giving you a look. "It's Josh," he says.

"Josh Allen?"

"Yeah, I texted him earlier. He looked like he was going through it in his post-game presser last night."

You nod in agreement, loving the fact that a lot of the young NFL QBs reach out to each other to lend support. They're rivals on the field but off of it they're a very elite brotherhood. Nobody understands the pressure on a QB1 except for another QB1.

You finish wiping down the counters and tune into the conversation.

"Yeah, bro, I know it sucks," Joe states, "but even the best-of-the-best shit the bed every now and then. You just gotta flush it down and move on." He catches your eye for a second before continuing. "Listen, you're being too hard on yourself. The worst thing you can do is dwell on it. Keep your head up and unleash hell next week."

You give him a smile as he ends the call. "Is he okay?"

Joe shrugs. "He's really beating himself up about the four turnovers he had."

"You gave him some great advice. Actually, you're giving him a lot more grace than you give yourself."

"He needs it more than I do," Joe boasts.

"Hardass," you scold, giving him a playful grin.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he smirks, leaning down to drop a kiss on your lips before heading for the door. "Have a good day," he calls over his shoulder, giving you a wink before disappearing into the garage.

A few hours later you stagger into the house carrying four heavy bags of groceries. "Should've made two trips," you chuckle, heaving the bags onto the kitchen counter with a sigh of relief. You eventually get everything put away, yawning a couple of times in the process. "I could really use a nap," you mutter, checking your watch. "Plenty of time," you smile, heading upstairs and stripping down to your undies before falling into bed.

An hour and a half later you come awake abruptly, your body so close to climax that you can't believe you don't fall over the edge. "Shit," you whisper, still groggy from sleep as you cup a hand over your throbbing crotch. You consider finishing yourself off but decide to wait for Joe to get home.

You take several deep breaths as you remember the reason for your hyper-aroused state -- an erotic dream about your man. "So hot," you mumble, easing out of bed and checking the clock, noting that Joe should be home soon. You walk into your closet and grab a couple of items, deciding to recreate the outfit from your dream.

You pull on a tight white t-shirt -- no bra -- before adding a black flouncy skirt so short it barely covers your buttcheeks. "Not bad," you whisper, checking your reflection in the mirror while fluffing your hair. "Oh yeah, almost forgot" you breathe, reaching under your skirt to slide your panties off, tossing them aside as you turn and head for the door.

You're halfway down the hallway to Joe's office when you hear the garage door open; your entire body immediately reacts, every single pleasure point throbbing in anticipation. You hurry into his office as you hear him coming up the stairs. "I'm in your office," you call loudly, "and I hope you're ready for this," you add under your breath.

"Hey," he says as he strides into the room, the big grin on his face morphing into a look of surprise and then lust as he gives you a slow once-over, his gaze coming to rest on your hard nipples plainly visible through your thin shirt.

You immediately notice his haircut but are too far gone to mention it. "I took a nap earlier and had a dream about you," you admit, closing the distance between you and rising up onto your tiptoes to give him a kiss. "Must have been a good one," he says, deepening the kiss while cupping his big hands over your breasts, teasing your sensitive nubs through your shirt; he pinches them just hard enough to make you gasp, and you press your thighs together at the gush of liquid heat in your core. He reads your body language and drops a hand down, sliding it under your short skirt before slowing inching it up your inner thigh, making a sound that's part groan/part growl when he realizes you're not wearing panties.

"Damn, babe," he hisses, pulling back to look down at you as he plays with your slick folds. "So wet for me." He slides a long finger inside you, both of you moaning when your walls clench hard around it.

"We gotta slow down or I'm gonna cum," you whimper. "Is that a bad thing?" he asks, latching his pretty mouth onto your neck while pumping his finger inside you. "I wanna do it just like in my dream," you pant, taking a couple of steps back to try and get yourself under control; you watch him suck his wet finger into his mouth, the look on his face causing your core to react.

"What do you need?" he asks. "Get naked," you order, taking your own clothes off while he does your bidding; you walk toward his desk, spinning his large, black leather desk chair to face you before pointing at it. "Sit," you urge, watching closely as he follows orders, his long legs falling open in his usual manspread.

You drop to your knees between his thick thighs, your mouth immediately on his hard cock as he buries both hands in your hair, his throaty groans going directly to your clit as you work him in all his favorite ways.

Shit, gotta fast-forward, you think to yourself. You'd teased him more in your dream, but you're literally about to bust so you quickly stand up and crawl into his lap, gasping when he grabs your waist and lifts you onto the desk. "This wasn't in the dream," you whisper, laying back against the desk as he grabs your ankles and places your feet on either side of him on the arms of the chair. "Just let me have a quick taste," he purrs, waiting for your approval before lowering his head.

You run your hands over his fresh fade haircut, relishing the velvet-like feel as he licks your wet slit a few times before sliding his tongue inside. "Oh my God," you moan, fisting a hand in his hair as he continues to tongue-fuck you, grateful that he left enough hair on top of his head to get a nice handful.

Even though he's strategically avoiding your clit, you quickly feel that delicious tension building inside you. "That feels so good but you gotta stop," you whine. "Why?" he asks. "Because I wanna cum on your cock," you say matter-of-factly.

The words barely leave your mouth before you find yourself lifted off the desk and straddling his lap, your head spinning a little as he makes sure you're settled before he drops a hand down to his erection, dragging it through your drenched folds a few times to gather moisture before pushing inside. It's been a few days and you bite your lip at the way he fills you up, inch by inch, the delicious stretch making your eyes water and raising chill bumps on your skin.

"So good," you whisper once he's fully seated, holding yourself still for several heartbeats to adjust to his thick length. Your gaze is drawn to your juices glistening on his lips, and you can't resist leaning forward and slowly licking them before sucking his plump bottom lip into your mouth. His cock twitching deep inside you spurs you into action, and within a few seconds you're riding him hard

"Don't touch my clit yet," you whimper, digging your fingers into his muscular shoulders as you hit the perfect pace. "Yes, ma'am." He runs his hands up and down your thighs before resting them on your ass. "Did I talk dirty to you in your dream?" he grits out, his big hands squeezing your plump ass as you bounce on his cock. "Y … yeah," you pant. "Thank fuck," he groans, his gaze resting on your bouncing breasts for several seconds before he locks eyes with you and starts talking, the filthy praise spilling from his pretty lips arousing your body like a physical touch.

"I'm so close," you gasp. "Want me to finish you?" he asks, moving a hand to your clit as soon as you give him a breathy, "yeah." It takes one stroke of his thumb on your super-sensitive nub before you come apart, sinking your teeth into his shoulder as the intense climax hits; he hisses in pleasure at the feel of your core rhythmically clenching his thrusting cock, lasting only a few more seconds before he buries himself deep and cums inside you, licking your sweaty neck before sucking hard enough to leave a love bite.

You pant against his shoulder for a few minutes, eventually lifting your head up before quickly dropping it back down. "Damn, I'm dizzy," you mutter, grinning when Joe mumbles "me too" against your neck.

After taking a little more time to come to your senses, you lean back and look at Joe, running a hand over his fade while giving him a grin. "I had a feeling you'd lose the hair before week two."

"Needed a fresh start," he states, returning your grin. "A hard reset."

"Ohhh, 'hard reset' sounds kinda hot," you giggle, hitting a Kegel on his still-softening erection.

His breath catches in his throat and he narrows his eyes at you playfully. "If I knew a haircut was gonna make you go beast mode on me, I would've cut that shit a lot sooner."

"I love the cut, but I was already horny as hell when you got home."

"You need to have naughty dreams about me more often," he teases, "except don't rush me through the pussy-eating part next time."

"Did you feel deprived?"

"A little," he pouts. "You know I love to get you off with my tongue. Plus, it would be nice to be reminded that I'm really good at something since I've clearly forgotten how to throw a damn football."

"Joseph!" you scold, opening your mouth to further admonish him.

"I'm kidding," he chuckles. "Don't get your panties in a wad."

You roll your eyes at him before looking down at your still-joined bodies. "Good thing this chair is leather instead of fabric."

"Why?"

"Because your lethal hotness caused me to unleash a pussy juice tsunami."

"You have a way with words," he laughs. "Let's go get a quick shower," he continues. "I'll clean the chair up later."

Twenty minutes later y'all are lounging on the bed, him flat on his back and you on your side facing him, exchanging small talk while the ceiling fan cools down your naked bodies.

"How did treatment go today?" you ask.

"Fine," he answers vaguely. "And my work-out went good."

You're dying to ask how his calf feels but you hold your tongue, opting instead for something positive. "I'm making your fav dinner tonight."

"Yeah? Which one? You make like a hundred things that are my favs."

"It's a surprise," you tease. "Why don't you try and get a nap while I go get dinner started. I'll wake you up when it's ready."

"Okay," he agrees. "If I can't sleep I'll just watch some film."

"Of course you will," you chuckle, pressing a kiss on his chest before pushing up into a sitting position. You take a deep breath and lock eyes with him. "I need you to promise me something."

"What?"

"If your calf tightens up during the game this Sunday, promise me you'll tell the trainers and team doctor, okay? Let them decide if it's safe for you to keep playing."

"Sure," he says, a little too casually for your liking.

You lean down until your face is inches from his. "Listen, I know you're tough enough to play with pain, but as the leader of this team you have an obligation to do what's best for the franchise. If you go down with a season-ending injury like Aaron's, this team is dead in the water. You owe it to them to be honest about your condition."

"Damn, woman, going for the jugular," he laughs, reaching a hand up to brush your hair off of your face. "How about this … if it tightens up more than normal, I promise I'll say something."

You search his face for several seconds before leaning down to give him a kiss. "Thanks," you breathe against his lips, squealing in surprise when he quickly flips you onto your back and crawls on top of you, careful not to crush you with his entire weight. He lowers his head and nips your earlobe before whispering in your ear.

"I gave you a promise … now what are you gonna give me?" he purrs, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"Ummm, your fav dinner?" you whisper, your pulse rate kicking into overdrive at the look on his face.

"Later." He holds eye contact with you while kissing his way down your body before settling between your spread legs. "I'm gonna have my fav dessert first," he states, giving your clit a vigorous suck before sliding his tongue inside you, his groan of approval tickling your sensitive skin as you bury a hand in his hair and arch up against him.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine

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wynnyfryd · 6 months

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Trailer park Steve AU part 12 part 1 | part 11 | ao3

ha haaaa, i lied about waiting until monday. cw: angst, gory imagery, implied prescription drug abuse

In his dream it’s raining pills.

Steve is crying in his car as rainbow pellets rain from the sky, and then he’s pounding on the Munson’s door while the pills burst into fine powder against his hair, his skin, his clothes. Eddie doesn’t come to the door but suddenly he’s there, teleported outside of it, apologizing right away when Steve demands to know what’s wrong.

“I don’t understand what happened.”

A flash of eyes, of lips; his face doesn’t fully form, but he sweeps one of those perusing looks all over Steve, sees his frayed edges and invites him in to stitch them up.

They talk and laugh for hours — dream logic where the seconds are minutes are years — letting their knees knock together, letting their pinky fingers brush. All the while little pills plink plink against the siding, pharmaceutical hail storm, and suddenly it's morning; Steve has drifted off; Steve has never slept so well. There’s a throw blanket made of cat fur and the smell of coffee and scrambled eggs, Wayne humming sleepily to himself at the stove, waving a spatula in greeting when he spots Steve getting up.

“Mornin'!” he grins. “Ed’s still sleepin’, but feel free to stick around.”

Outside the rain comes harder, heavy knocks against the roof, and when Steve peers into the pan he sees that Wayne’s frying up dead birds. "Just about ready."

He spears a fork into a wing. The feathers start to smoke. “You take your coffee black?”

—

“Ma, you gotta get a job.”

“Hmm?”

She’s watching I Love Lucy.

Steve's head is in his hands.

His elbows are going numb where they’re propped on the breakfast table, and his temples throb, a steady band of pressure like a giant's palm around the sides and back of his skull, pulsing down his aching neck. He’s been staring at next month’s budget for so long it looks like hyro…hiero—?

Whatever. Egyptian shit.

He can’t tell if he’s shit at math or if the math just doesn’t work, but either way it’s not working, and neither is his fucking mom, and he finds himself thinking about this one time in middle school when they took a field trip to a factory with a big hydraulic press. Got to tour the control room; got to pick which fruits to crush.

He remembers the watermelon most vividly of all: the way the rind groaned under the machine’s steady weight, splintering slivers snaked over striped flesh; slowly, slowly, then suddenly, boom!!

Watermelon guts on the concrete floor.

(That was also the first time he got to touch a girl's butt; all the girl's squealed and jumped back from the explosion, and one of them backed herself right into his hand. It was Liz Collins, and it was one hundred percent an accident, because, like, gross, Liz Collins, but still.

Memorable day for two reasons.

God, he needs a nap.)

“A job, ma,” he sighs, a little louder this time. “I can... I don’t know, I can maybe ask around, see if anybody’s hiring? Or- talk to Claudia. Or Karen,” he snaps his fingers by his ear, “or Joyce! She might— yeah. Yeah, she might be able to call and put in a good word at Melvalds...”

She might also be busy being far the fuck away from here. He taps his pencil against his cheek as envy crashes over him. He should be in California. Should spend his time hitting on beach babes and surfing sunny waves instead of drowning in debt and wondering why he’s on a first-name basis with so many random moms.

His mom still hasn’t acknowledged a single word he's said. "Hello? Ma? What d'you think?"

She turns to look at him finally. Gives him a dreamy, lovely smile.

She always was so pretty. “…I’m sorry; what were you saying?”

—

Steve flushes his mom’s pills.

—

part 13

tagging whoever commented recently if your settings will let me @acedorerryn @ahsokatanoss @annabanannabeth @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awolfstudio @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @evillittleguy @fandomfix8 @grtwdsmwhr @hellion-child @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @lololol-1234 @messrs-weasley @nburkhardt @noodle-shenaniganery @ppunkpuppyy @rani-mayida @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @space-invading-pigeon @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @vacantwatchers @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #steve harrington's parents #st fic #my writing #my fic

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evermoresqueiswriting · 21 days

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riptide

“I was scared of dentists and the dark I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations Oh, all my friends are turning green You're the magician's assistant in their dream”

summary: going on the camp's field trip to olympus because clarisse asked you to, meeting your father and clarisse's father and also, there are new updates from camp - luke gone, and percy's arrival

pairing: clarisse la rue x f!reader

word count: 6.7k (14 year old me would never believe me if i said i casually wrote a 6k chapter)

tags: mostly fluff, tiny splash and angst

series masterlist 3/?

The date ended really late – you fell asleep on the beach, and Clarisse didn’t have the heart to wake you up. She didn’t dare, you looked too peaceful to disturb. You loved taking naps and whenever you were around Clarisse, you felt safe enough to do so. By the time you woke up, it was already dark, and Clarisse had put your blouse back on you because it started to get chilly. When you realised what time it was, you hurried Clarisse and grabbed all your bags before leaving the beach.

The ride back home was quite long, and once you got into camp, it was really quiet. You and Clarisse tried to be quiet, and walked slowly towards your cabins, but then you heard footsteps. Both of you whipped around. Chiron, hands on his hip and Mr D, standing next to him.

“Hi,” you waved.

Clarisse swiftly grabbed your hand to put it down.

“You missed the curfew,” Mr D said.

“What– What curfew? There was one?” you hesitated, looking at Clarisse.

“Yes,” Mr D continued, “it was written, black on white, that you should be home before 9pm. And it’s, would you look at that,” he showed you his watch-less wrist, “it’s past 11!”

“We– I didn’t know,” you explained, “I- I mean– I can’t read and neither can she.”

Chiron shook his head, and Clarisse stepped in front of you, shielding you from their disappointed faces.

“We’re sorry, we didn’t see the time.”

Your hand was grabbing tightly onto Clarisse’s arm.

“Go back to your cabins and rest,” Chiron said.

“Yeah, cause you’ll need it for the cleaning duties you’ll get for the whole week or month, I still haven’t decided yet haha,” Mr D finished and walked away.

You were once again alone. You sighed.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, not daring to look at her.

“What for?”

“I should’ve read the whole letter, I should've known and now because of me you’ll have cleaning duties for maybe a whole month!”

“I don’t mind, I had a great time today,” you raised your head up at this, “I’ll do another month again if it means we get to do that again.”

“Really?” you smiled.

“Really, now go to sleep.”

It ended up being a whole month of cleaning duties, but neither of you cared because you got to be together.

Your summer was split between three people, Clarisse, Will and Lee.

Fighting and combat with Clarisse. Clarisse was ruthless, not letting you rest for a bit, always pushing you to your limits. She had one thing in mind and that was for you to be the best version of yourself. You were progressing fast which she was extremely proud of. Just like Luke said, you were a natural fighter, and everyone noticed that during Capture the Flag. You went from hiding behind Clarisse the whole time from leading the fight.

Archery lessons from Lee. Lee was also very insistent as a teacher. Never letting you rest.

“Hitting a still target is easy, a child could do it,” Lee told you in his first lesson. “But no monster is going to stay still for you to hit it at your pace. So, we’ll practise on moving targets, fast and unpredictable ones.”

And he was right, it was much more difficult. There was no time for you to prepare, and see where the wind went. But after some practice, it was easier. He was a good teacher, after all. You were tired and sore at the end of every day, which seemed a bit excessive for a fun, safe, summer camp for half bloods. They looked like they were preparing you for war at this pace. And when you had some free time, you spent it with Cornelia painting and playing old board games they had in the cabins. It was a great way to relax.

Alongside sharpening your skills, you also spent an absurd amount of time at the infirmary with Will. Michael was the one teaching you everything, with a tiny Will following you there too. He was absorbing information at an incredible pace.

“Isn’t he a bit young to be learning all of this?” you asked Michael.

“Yeah, but he’s good at it, so who cares? Surely not Mr D.”

Will was a really nice kid, and obviously a natural healer. With the two of you at the infirmary, Michael was able to leave for longer periods of time. Will and you often held karaoke afternoons while cleaning the infirmary. And this time, it was your turn to choose the song. So, You and Will were dueting ‘august’ by Taylor Swift when someone came in.

“But do you remember? Remember when I pulled up and said, "Get in the car" And then canceled my plans just in case you'd call? Back when I was livin' for the hope of it all, for the hope of it all "Meet me behind the mall" Remember–” you sang with Will.

“You’re having fun here,” Clarisse leaned on the doorframe.

You screamed, and turned around.

“Clarisse! Hi,” Will waved.

She gave you a questioning look. They had never met.

“This is Will Solace, my brother,” you smiled.

“Yeah, y/n talks about you all the time!” Will smile proudly, before you shoved him aside.

“Betrayal, I said all of these things in confidence, but whatever,” you dragged him outside. “Go grab some more supplies, we’re missing ambrosia.”

“But it’s ful–.”

You slammed the door.

“He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” you laughed, turning back to Clarisse.

“Sure,” she smirked.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“I forgot to give you something.”

“A gift?” you beamed.

She took out a small tissue bag from her pocket and handed it to you. You opened it, and let the object slip into your palm. A ring.

“Are you proposing?” you joked.

She rolled her eyes, and smiled.

“I watched you pick this size when choosing yours, so you shouldn’t lose this one.”

“Thank you, it’s so pretty I love it!” you put it on your left index.

Clarisse had the one you gave her on her necklace.

“Great, don’t lose it.”

“I won’t!”

And just like that – in the blink of an eye – summer was over, and it was time for you to leave camp and go back home. You knew it was time to leave when Mr D started yelling that those who weren’t staying for the year to leave immediately because he had enough of seeing you bunch. When you walked away from your cabin, you noticed Clarisse was already waiting for you at the entrance of camp.

“I guess this is goodbye,” she smiled.

“Until October, for the field trip,” you corrected her. “I talked to Mr D and he said it was ok for me to come. So really it’s only two months away! And I’ll send letters, I’m sure Hermes Express have those next day delivery types of… offers?”

“Sure.”

You fiddled with your fingers.

“I’m going to miss you,” you admitted. “And I’ll miss Capture the Flag and being on your team, and I’ll miss sparing with you, and I’ll miss… seeing you everyday.”

Her eyes softened.

“Only two months, like you said.”

You nodded. Then, hesitantly, you opened your arms.

“What?” Clarisse frowned.

“We should hug goodbye.”

She had her arms crossed, but then she uncrossed them and you went to wrap your arms around her torso. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around your shoulders. When her arms loosened, you let go.

“I’ll see you soon Clarisse,” you squeezed her arm, before walking away.

“See you soon sunshine,” Clarisse watched you walk away, “I’ll miss you too,” but you were already too far away to hear it.

Once you were back home, the first thing you did was to go find your mom’s old walkerman. You had to go search the old boxes your mom had put away in the attic – it was difficult but worth it.

“Why do you need this?” your mother asked once you came out of the attic with her walkerman.

“It’s for— my friend?”

“Clarisse?”

“Yes. Clarisse.”

When you told your mother about your summer at camp, it had included a lot of Clarisse related stories.

“And I told her I’d send letters so we could keep in touch, but now I realise I can’t write for the life of me, and even if I did write something, she’s spent too much time trying to decipher what I wrote, and it's just not– good. So I thought I’d send her this,” you waved the walkerman, “and I’d buy empty cassettes to record things, and send pictures along with it.”

“Oh, that’s a very nice thing to do,” she nodded.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you– to ask you really. Hm, there is this field trip at camp… in october. It’d be during the halloween vacations, so I won’t miss school. Can I go, please?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

Well that was easy.

So every week, you’d record what you did and update Clarisse about your life, you’d take pictures and buy her favourite snacks — you tried out a lot during your date — and ship it to camp half-blood. Clarisse would also send you pictures. The dinner, pictures of Will and behind one of his pictures he’d written ‘i miss u <3’ on the back, people training, their win at Capture the Flag, and you’d keep everything in a box dedicated to Clarisse.

Two months. Two months at camp went by fast, too fast even. But two months at school, minus your friends and the fun at camp, it was slow. You woke up every day at 6:45am, got ready and left for school, came back around 5:50pm and did your homework, ate, washed-up, and then scrolled on twitter, fighting with random accounts, and then went to sleep. Your routine was boring to no end, but you tried so you could have things to tell Clarisse. But life outside of camp was boring and your mother could see that.

“You know, if you wanted to stay at camp for the whole year, I wouldn’t stop you.”

Oh.

“But, what about you then? I don’t want you to live alone in this big ass mansion.”

“I’m an adult, I’ll be fine,” she reassured you.

“I won’t, knowing you’ll be alone.”

Your mom wasn’t on good terms with her parents after they learned that she’d be raising a kid alone, without marriage or even a boyfriend. After you were born, they did visit and spent time with you, but never with your mom, their daughter. So she couldn’t even call them to come live with her. You weren’t going to abandon her when she only has you.

“I–,” she put her chopsticks down, “I met someone at work.”

“What! What does that mean?”

“It means, I’ve been seeing someone.”

“Oh my– you’re trying to get rid of me to have—” you stared at her, mouth wide open from shock, “sex,” you mouthed.

“Oh grow up y/n, I’m an adult, where do you think you came from.”

“Uh– rude.”

“I’m just saying, this is your last year in high school, if next year you want to stay at camp, you can.”

“And you’d be fine with it?”

She nodded.

“What if I want to stay here, at home?”

“Then you’d stay here, as long as you want, this is your home as well.”

“I’ll– I’ll think about it.”

And then it was finally time to leave for camp again. Your mom drove you to the airport and you left with your suitcase in hand. It was the longest flight ever, and the cab seemed to be driving even slower than a snail. An old lady on foot was faster than this, but then you were finally there.

“Are you sure this is where you want to get out?” the cab driver asked, seeing the empty road.

“Yes,” you gave him the money, “keep the change, bye.”

When you arrived at camp, Chiron was waiting for you at the entrance already, and you greeted him happily.

“How was the trip to camp?”

“Great. Long and tiring for sure, but I’m so excited too.”

“Good, we’re going to leave soon, you can go put your things in your cabin first.”

The first one to spot you was Cornelia, and she came running to hug you. And then Will came in very quickly to give you a hug as well.

“I missed you guys so much,” you smiled.

“I wish you were staying here all the time,” Will said. “I’m all alone at the infirmary.”

“You’re leaving him alone?” you gasped at Michael.

“He kicked me out! Said you had a whole system going on there and I wasn’t following it correctly.”

“He also wasn’t doing karaoke afternoons with me,” Will told you.

“How dare he. That’s ‘cause he has no taste.”

“I can hear you,” Michael stood beside you.

“Do you mind? I’m having a private conversation.”

“Yeah do you mind, we’re having a private conversation,” Will repeated.

It felt great to be at camp – it felt safe, familiar and comforting. You put your suitcase beside your bed, and grabbed some chocolate bars from your backpack and put them in your pocket. Will, who stayed by your side, pleaded with his eyes to get one too and you couldn’t resist.

“I’ll give you more later,” you promised him.

You left your cabin with your siblings as it was time to leave camp. Everyone was on their way to the entrance. You looked around, hoping to catch Clarisse, and there she was, way ahead of you. You turned around, facing your siblings and after a brief “see you up there”, you ran off.

Clarisse was talking to her brother, and she looked around for you. She was expecting you to be beside Chiron at the entrance, but you weren't. Maybe you were late? When suddenly, she felt someone jump on her back, and her immediate response was to grab their arm and throw them on the ground.

“Ugh! Motherfucker,” you moaned, laying on the ground, with Clarisse holding down on your arm on the ground.

“What the hell!” Clarisse immediately let go and helped you get up. “Why would you do that?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” you rubbed your arm. “Why would you do that?”

“You jumped on me! Are you ok?” Clarisse worried.

You stared at her, dumbstruck.

“No! I’m not!”

Just when she was about to talk, Chiron called for all the campers to gather around, and you left without giving her the chance to speak. Your whole back was aching, and you tried not to think about it too much, but that was impossible because of Clarisse’s strength. Clarisse tried to grab your arm to slow you down, but you shook her off. Then, Michael and Lee just had to get involved.

“Butt off Clarisse,” Michael squeezed himself between you two. “Didn’t you do enough by crushing y/n to dust? So much for being friends,” he snickered.

“Fuck off Michael unless you want to wake up in the morning missing your front row teeth,” Clarisse spat.

Michael did back away a little, bumping into you.

“How can you be friends with her,” he turned around to look at you.

Clarisse has been wondering the same thing for the past few days. The Apollo cabin and the Ares cabin weren’t known to be friendly with each other. They tolerated each other at best when they were on the same team for Capture the Flag, but that was it. And when you left, she started to wonder about your friendship. Maybe you’d forget about her once you’re back at home. And the first week, all she could think about was when – or if – you’d reach out.

But every Sunday, at 9:00am she’d receive a package with your recording and pictures and candy for your siblings and her. You had never given her any reason to doubt your relationship, but not everyone in your cabin, or at camp, were thinking that way. Michael had been one of those people, always wondering loud and clear about your friendship. So that was Clarisse’s final straw.

She grabbed Michael’s collar, ready to punch him, but Lee tried to calm the situation down.

“Clarisse, please don’t,” Lee grabbed Michael’s hands, “he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“He clearly does. He’s been talking about it nonstop for the past few weeks.”

You frowned. You looked at Michael, then Lee and finally at Clarisse. The pure rage in her eyes would make anyone run away, but you stepped up.

“Clarisse,” you put your hands on her arms, “it’s fine, let go please. Chiron is waiting for us.”

She locked her eyes with you, clearly still upset about the situation, and pushed Michael away, but Lee was behind to hold him back.

“Clarisse, what was that about?”

“It’s nothing,” she shrugged, “it’s fine. See you.”

And she walked away, leaving you confused. You turned around, giving a questioning look at your brothers, but Lee only mouthed a ‘I don’t know’ and Michael avoided your gaze. You were ready to argue with them, but Will came running, telling you they were ready to leave.

The trip to the Empire State Building was long, especially with Clarisse ignoring you. You tried talking to Michael, but he was also ignoring you, and suddenly, everyone at camp lost their ability to talk. Annoyed, you went to the back of the bus, where no one was. But then Will came.

“What’s wrong? You look like Clarisse all the time. Frowning and sulking.”

“I’m not!” you relaxed your face. “Also while we're talking about Clarisse, what’s that about how we’re not supposed to be friends?”

Will grimaced, and looked away for a second.

“People have been wondering about how you, sweet and fun Apollo daughter, could be friends with ruthless Clarisse La Rue, Ares daughter. Because the Apollo cabin does not get along with the Ares cabin, like at all.”

“And Clarisse was upset? Over people’s opinions about us?”

“Well…” Will stretched that vowel for far too long. “You know people, and how they love to gossip. And somehow it went from enemy cabins to how there are better friends to have… than Clarisse. And how she’s not… worth it,” he hesitated. “And she only brings you trouble… things like that.”

You were too stunned to give any type of answers.

“Clarisse doesn’t look like someone who cares about those kind of rumours and speculations, but insecurities are created by people’s opinion,” Will said, “that’s what Lee told me when people were talking about me and I started to feel bad.”

“What were people talking about?” you frowned.

“I’m not as good as you all with my archery skills.”

“That’s not–, I mean it doesn’t matter.”

“I know, Lee and Cornelia and Michael and everyone at our cabin was there to tell me that.”

“Okay, and they’re right.”

“I’m saying… maybe Clarisse doesn't have that sort of support system. And maybe she is starting to feel like other people are right.”

“Oh.”

You looked at where Clarisse was sitting, in the middle, sitting next to her sister. It was a four seat table, and her three siblings were all laughing and shouting, but Clarisse wasn’t. She was staring out the window, her arms crossed.

You saw her frown and turned her head in your direction, but when she saw you looking at her, she quickly turned her head to her siblings.

“You should talk to her, and clear things up. Because Clarisse is nice. I like her.”

“Since when? You never talk.”

“Clarisse is nice to me, she always has been since we’ve met that one time,” he admitted. “I think she deserves good friends. Like us.”

“I think so too,” you agreed.

When it was time to get off the bus, everyone rushed out, separating you from Clarisse even further. Well, the talk had to wait.

The trip to the 600th floor took too long. Every cabin went one by one since it couldn’t hold the whole camp at once. The Ares cabin went before the Apollo cabin, but Clarisse stood straight and looked ahead. She had her back turned to you, even once inside the elevator, but at the last minute she turned around and locked eyes with you.

“We’ll talk,” you mouthed clearly.

There was no escaping you. When it was your turn, you stepped in last so you could leave first. It took forever to reach floor 600. And just as you expected, there was no sign of Clarisse. She stayed close to her brothers.

Each cabin had to do a presentation in front of the gods, and it was the worst thing for them and for you all too. Every time they clapped at the end, you knew it wasn’t as a compliment but more as a cheers to being closer to the end.

After that, there was a big feast. The gods watching you eat and burn your food for them – it was weird and you couldn’t keep your eyes off your father. His tanned skin, golden hair, and bright smile.

“Blinding isn’t he,” Lee said.

“Yeah, I should’ve brought my sunglasses. Do you ever talk?”

“Not much. They don’t come just to hang around their kids.”

“He kinda looks like a classmate I’d have if people at my school weren’t all dressed like they just left prison. He looks young.”

“You’ll get used to it eventually,” Lee shrugged.

After dinner, campers just hang around talking, and some of the gods would come and talk to their children. You looked around and spotted the Hermes cabin staying together, far away from the main event, and then you tried to look for Clarisse, but she was nowhere. You turned around and bumped into your father. You quickly stepped away.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“It’s alright. How have you been? Have you been settling well with everything?” he smiled.

“Um… Yes.”

What more could you say? You weren’t going to start saying the truth to this god that happened to be your father.

“How is your mother?”

“Great,” you nodded, smiling. “She’s been seeing someone you know, after,” you looked at your wrist and pretended there was a watch, “eighteen years of having no one.”

“y/n,” he sighed looking away, “that’s just how things work with us gods. She knew from the start who I was, I told her.”

“It’s fine. I was merely stating a fact.”

Please somebody end this conversation, you prayed.

“Well, well, well,” someone slapped your dad’s shoulder.

“Ares,” your dad greeted him. “This is y/n, my daughter.”

“Ah, the girl my daughter has been seeing.”

Apollo whipped his head around, beaming at you.

“You have a girlfriend?” he held you in his arms. “I’m so proud of you. Way to go, who and where is the lucky girl.”

You stared at him, and then at Ares, mouth wide open in shock.

“I– I don’t! It’s– It’s not!” you stuttered. “I don’t have a girlfriend. Clarisse is my friend, who is a girl indeed. So yeah girl,” you paused, “friend. I haven’t been seeing her, I’ve been seeing her as in, she lives at camp and so did I during the summer!”

“Oh,” he let go of you. “My bad. You could’ve been more clear,” he looked at Ares. “Well I have to go now,” he walked away. “See you soon, y/n.”

Ares didn’t follow your father. He stayed with you, staring at you. Clarisse looked at you the same way when you first arrived at camp.

“I feel like I know you from somewhere,” you admitted.

“Well, I am the war god. They had to have shown you my picture somewhere between those classes they have,” he nodded toward Chiron.

“No, it’s not that,” you frowned.

Meanwhile, Clarisse was talking to Mark when she spotted Apollo leaving in a hurry, and she looked at where he came from. And her eyes spotted you immediately, and then she saw her father standing tall, towering over you.

“Fuck,” she mumbled before leaving the conversation without any notice.

She rushed to where you stood. There was no way she was going to let you alone with her father.

“... on twitter!” you shouted, hiding a smile. “Clarisse, I was just telling your father about us knowing each other through twitter!”

“What?” she mumbled, pulling you closer to her.

“I’m always starting fights with him on twitter, because he’s always talking shit and nonsense. He doesn’t know me though.”

“Wait–,” Ares interrupted. “Are you that fan account of that blonde singer?”

“Yes!” you laughed.

He snickered, then stopped and turned to Clarisse.

“Clarisse.”

“Dad.”

Then he stared at you, before going back to Clarisse.

“You can leave now,” he gave you a brief look. “I want to talk to Clarisse. Alone.”

Clarisse, who the whole time didn’t let go of your hand, squeezed it. Hard. Before letting go. But you didn’t move, slightly worried.

“I–,” you started, but Clarisse turned to you, face blank.

“I’ll find you after this, go.”

You nodded without arguing and left. You quickly spotted your siblings and joined them, listening to what they were saying. You’d glance at Clarisse’s direction, and all you could see was Clarisse nodding, looking at her feet. Ares was in his human form, but even like that he looked impressive. He was tall and broad, he had these eyes you didn’t want to look straight into from fear. He gave Clarisse a final, firm, pat on the shoulder before leaving her there. She stood there for a full minute before straightening her back and searched for you in the ocean of people. But before she could find you, you were already on your way to her.

“Are you okay?” you immediately asked.

“I’m fine.”

“What did he say to you?”

“He…” she hesitated. “It doesn’t matter.”

You stood there, torn between insisting and letting it go. If you insisted when she wasn’t ready to talk, then you’d be a pushy friend who doesn’t respect any boundaries. But if you didn’t, then maybe it’d seem like you didn’t care.

“Okay,” you nodded slowly. “Well, if you don’t have anything more to say, I do.”

“y/n…” Clarisse sighed.

“No! You ignored me the whole day when I just came back for you. And then that thing that happened with Michael,” she rolled her eyes at the mention of his name, “what was that about?”

“It doesn’t—”

“Stop saying that! It does matter. It matters to me how you feel. About this and everything else.”

Clarisse stared at you. Her eyes pleading with you to let it go.

“I just…” you sighed, defeated. “I don’t want this to ruin our friendship. And I don’t—” you groaned in frustration. “Will told me,” you admitted, “about what people have been saying and what Michael has been saying,” you found it hard to find your words. “I– I want you to know that’s not what I think. And I—.”

You should’ve been rehearsing this. You took a deep breath.

“They’re not right about this. And I don’t want you to think that they are. Because you, Clarisse La Rue, are the best friend anyone could ask for. And because of you, I’m better than ever. I’ve been a better fighter because of you, I’ve been a better friend because of you. You taught me how to stand up for myself, and I’ve just been happier since I’ve met you. So I don’t want you to listen to what people have to say.”

Clarisse still hadn’t said anything, which was excruciating. Just as you were about to continue ranting about this, she pulled you in her arms. You wrapped your arms around her, and put your head on her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and let go.

It didn’t last long enough, but you’ll take what she gave you.

“Are we ok?”

“We’re ok,” Clarisse nodded.

The rest of the evening was spent with you sitting on some big rocks that served as chairs, catching up. She’d tell about all the times she won at Capture the Flag, she’d tell you about the indigestion everyone had due to food poisoning that one day, she’d tell you about that time she had to go to the infirmary and only let Will heal her because there was no way she’d let Michael help her. She’d tell you about every little thing you’d miss during those months when you went home, and you listened to everything she had to say, with your head resting on her shoulder.

“Oh gods,” you straightened your back, pointing ahead of you. “Is that your dad with Aphrodite?”

“Fuck,” she cringed. “Are they making out?”

“I mean– he definitely is. It’s weird,” you looked away, then went back to staring at them.

“Stop staring at my dad sucking the goddess of love’s face.”

“Are you sure he’s your dad though? Cause Aphrodite looks exactly like you.”

Clarisse whipped her head around, eyes wide, staring at you.

“What?” she breathed.

“What, what?”

She paused, still staring at you.

“Nothing,” she smiled, and then looked back, “they’re gone.”

“Finally. It’s gross to make out in front of your children like that.”

All the campers spent the night in Olympus, all sleeping in the same area. The room looked exactly like inside a normal cabin at camp, with bunk beds and cupboards, and for once, friends from different cabins were allowed to sleep together. You dragged Clarisse with you, where the Apollo cabin stayed.

“We’re all used to staying together,” you explained, “but you can stay with me. Are you sleeping on the top bunk or bottom one?”

“Bottom one,” Clarisse sat on the bed.

“Ooh,” Cornelia sat next to Clarisse,” so does y/n.”

“It’s fine, it’s only for one night,” you waved it off.

“Did you see Clarisse’s dad making out in the open with their mother,” Cornelia pointed at the Aphrodite children.

“We did!” you squealed, squeezing yourself between the two of them.

“I think everyone did,” Clarisse added.

“Did you notice how Aphrodite looked exactly like Clarisse,” you looked at Cornelia.

Her eyes widened, and shook her head slightly. Clarisse was leaning against the bed frame, her legs crossed on the bed, smirking. You frowned.

“What?” you mouthed.

“We’ll come back”, Cornelia dragged you away.

“What?”

“Do you know what it means to perceive Aphrodite, the goddess of love, beauty, passion and lust, as someone you know?” she asked.

“As someone I know? What does that mean?”

“Aphrodite doesn’t look like Clarisse,” she explained, “you perceive the goddess as such because you think Clarisse is those things.”

“Oh,” you paused. “Is that common knowledge or?”

You hoped not.

“Yeah it is, so you probably shouldn’t say those things in front of Clarisse if you’re not…”

“If I’m not what?”

“Nevermind.”

“I already told her, twice now with what happened a few minutes ago. Oh gods, couldn’t you have taught me this earlier!” you panicked. “What–What does that mean though? Do I– Am I—,” you gave a quick glance at Clarisse.

“I don’t know! I mean, you did ask her on a date like the first week you arrived at camp, what could that mean?”

“I don’t know? I think she’s pretty, and– and apparently I think she could look exactly like the goddess of love herself. It’s—,” you took a deep breath.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to know.”

“I think,” you hesitated. “I don’t know!” you whined. “Clarisse is nice to me, she’s fun to be around, she’s pushing me upwards and I think I might– maybe– perhaps have a tiny crush on her, yes,” you admitted.

“Aw,” she beamed, “I think you’d make such a cute couple.”

“Calm your tits down,” you playfully rolled your eyes, “I don’t know if this will ever go further than us being friends. Now look natural, and never tell anyone else this. Okay, let’s go back.”

Clarisse was talking to Will when you two came back, but they abruptly stopped. Will stood so Cornelia and you could sit.

“What was that about?” Cornelia asked them.

“It’s a secret,” Will smiled.

“We were talking about how sunshine over there thought I looked like a goddess,” Clarisse grinned.

Will tried to hide his laugh.

“No one told me!” you hid your face in your hand from embarrassment. “You could’ve stopped me the first time I said it,” you accused Clarisse, who was still laughing.

“The first?” Will interrupted.

“Both times in front of Clarisse,” Cornelia added. “It was hard to watch,” she teased you.

Time went by very fast when you’re surrounded by friends and family, because it was already time to go to sleep. The lights disappeared, and you climbed onto your bed, and whispered Clarisse a goodnight before closing your eyes.

The silence was deafening. You couldn’t fall asleep, you needed white noises, music, anything but this. You tossed around, left your right leg outside the blanket, but then it was too cold, so you put it back inside, and tossed around again.

“What the hell y/n,” Clarisse whispered loudly.

“Sorry, I can’t fall asleep.”

“Why?” she sighed.

“It’s too quiet, and I’m cold.”

Clarisse let out a bigger sigh, before getting up.

“Where’re you going?” you sat up.

“Get down here, and bring your blanket.”

You did as she told you. You put the blanket on your shoulders and climbed down.

“Get in the bed,” she pointed at hers.

You did as she told you. And then she climbed back inside her bed, next to you, with both blankets on you. The beds on Olympus were bigger than the ones at camp, so it was no problem to fit you two in one single bed.

“Better?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

Clarisse fell asleep very quickly, like always. As soon as she closed her eyes, she was gone. But it took more time with you, you were used to looking at your phone until your eyelids were too tired to stay open, but now you couldn’t. You had nothing, only Clarisse sleeping peacefully next to you.

She slept on her back, with her head tilted toward you. Unlike her, you slept on your side, so you turned your back to her, and closed your eyes. And just as you were about to fall asleep, you felt Clarisse arms wrapping around you to bring you closer to her. And then, in an instant, you were gone.

The happiness from staying at camp didn’t last long as it was already time to go home and say goodbye to everyone. Your holidays came to an end and so did your stay at camp, and just like last time, Clarisse was already waiting for you at the entrance.

“So,” you started, ‘I guess we’ll see each other next summer?”

“Yea,” she nodded. “Next summer.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you promised, “and I’ll keep sending you updates, though I don’t know if I’ll continue to be as regular as before. I do have my high school diploma to get, and I’ll have less time but I’ll do my best!”

“It’s okay, good luck on your exams. I know you’ll do great.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, but still didn’t leave.

It was too soon, and it felt like you barely spent any time with Clarisse and your siblings.

“Did you say goodbye to Will and the others?” Clarisse asked.

“Yea, before I left the cabin I did. It sucks that I have to, but–,” you hesitated, “maybe I won’t have to next year.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“I don’t know yet, but… it’s a possibility.”

“Oh,” she smiled, “okay.”

“Okay. Well… I have to go now.”

“Okay.”

You two stood there, without moving. But then you lunged forward and hugged her tightly.

“I’ll miss you,” you whispered.

And you let go, and left before she could give you her answer.

One recording per week became one every other week, and by December, it was only one per month. Clarisse didn’t send anything from December to February either, but then on a random day in March, you received a package from Hermes Express with Clarisse’s usual pictures from camp, without any notes explaining what happened those last few months. You didn’t mention it either, but you gave yourself a quick reminder to ask her when you’d be back at camp.

“It’s almost time, are you ready?” your mom asked.

“Yep, a minute!”

Your exams were done, you didn’t have the results yet but that didn’t matter – your mom promised she’d send them to you once she’d receive them so you could leave for camp peacefully. You packed lightly – a third of your belongings were already at camp – and went inside the cab your mom had called for you.

“Be careful okay,” she kissed your temple. “And write to me about your decision, okay?”

“I will, I promise,” you gave her a last quick hug and closed the cab door.

The journey to camp felt familiar now, you’d done it a few times already so it was a stress free trip. So you kept your suitcase close to you, you turned your phone off, and walked.

But something was off when you got closer to the entrance. It was loud. Louder than usual, and there were more people at the border everywhere as well, which were usually empty. You crossed the entrance, and most campers were wearing their gears, and weapons.

“What the hell,” you whispered.

You quickly noticed Clarisse, giving orders to campers, and walking around. When she turned around, she spotted you and ran to you, very quickly.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier when you were going to be here!” she shot.

“I wanted to surprise you! Why are you yelling at me!” you shouted back.

Clarisse stepped back and mouthed a quick apology.

“A lot of things happened while you were gone,” she explained.

“Like when you stopped sending me anything?”

She nodded reluctantly.

“A new camper came in, got claimed by Poseidon, and then got his quest to retrieve Zeus’ stolen bolt, and…” she hesitated. “We know who stole it in the first place. Luke.”

“Luke?” your eyes widened. “As in Castellan, Hermes' head– former head counsellor?”

She nodded again.

“And now Thalia’s tree has been poisoned, meaning the camp’s borders are weakened and we have to keep them safe ourselves.”

“Okay,” you proceeded with this information as fast as you could. “Okay.”

“I was worried sick for the past few days! You didn’t send me anything like last time. I didn’t know when you were going to be here, or if you’d gotten attacked and died.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me this earlier!” you argued.

“I–,” she hesitated, “I didn’t want to burden you with your studies.”

“They’re not important, this is obviously my priority and much more important.”

“Okay,” she looked around. “Stay beside me, I want to keep an eye on you whenever a battle is going to break out.”

You frowned.

“That’s cute, but I’d be much more useful if I stayed with the rest of the Apollo cabin where we’re needed. I’m a great fighter, I know,” you said before she could interrupt, “thanks to you, but I’m much better at archery.”

She stared at you, then looked down.

“I can’t…” she whispered, “I can’t protect you if you’re this far away from me.”

“Clarisse,” you cupped her face. “I’ll be fine, I promise. You worry about staying alive, and I’ll do the same. It’s going to be fine. Remember, you taught me everything I know.”

She nodded reluctantly.

“Okay.”

“Where’s your spear by the way?” you asked when she walked you to your cabin.

She grimaced, and sighed.

“Gone.”

“Gone? Wha–.”

“Percy Jackson,” she spat. “The new kid, I’m sure you’ll meet him soon enough.”

You threw your stuff inside your cabin, and changed your clothes before walking out with Clarisse still outside, waiting for you. Clarisse was about to talk, but was interrupted by screams from campers at the entrance.

You looked at each other and ran off to where the screams were, and saw it. Two immense bulls – colchis Bulls – coming straight towards campers.

“Go find Lee, I’ll handle this from here. He’ll know what to do,” Clarisse ordered before walking away.

“Clarisse!” you shouted before she was out of range. She turned her head. “Be careful.”

She nodded.

“Don’t die,” she added before leaving.

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue fanfic #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue pjo #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue imagine #clarisse la rue

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oiveyzmir · 8 months

Text

Living with Eddie is… well, it’s an experience.

It’s not a bad thing, not in the slightest. There’s nothing Steve loves more than the fact he gets to fall asleep next to the love of his life, wake up to his soft little snores, and go about their lives together. There’s a soft kind of domesticity to it Steve wouldn’t give for the world.

He loves their routine so much he’s even willing to move past the little things Eddie does that make him lose his mind, like the way he never washes the sink properly after doing the dishes or how he constantly leaves the cabinet doors open. He can even move past how Eddie will come home from a late night shift at the bar when it’s raining and forget to take his shoes off, leaving a muddy trail of footsteps anywhere he goes. Hell, Steve’s even willing to excuse Eddie’s phases.

Wayne had warned him about those when they first moved in together three years ago. “It’s just that he gets easily excited about things,” he reasoned then. “Which doesn’t make it any less annoying.”

Steve didn’t get what it meant then.

He surely gets what it means now.

He found something- a bout of inspiration- and hyperfixated on it until moving on to the next. There was this one time Eddie got really into gardening and bought 11 different herb seedlings, only for them to wilt and die three weeks later when he got into water coloring, then moved on to filmography, then to operas.

He had that month once where he’d developed a sudden interest in learning to play the violin (It’s for a song, Stevie, did you ever listen to Skyclad?), so he stayed up until 5 AM to play something that resembled music (but was closer to being nothing but) with the instrument he burrowed from Robin’s then girlfriend. That month was so close to being a breaking point for Steve, but he loves Eddie too much to do anything about it. He honestly believes that if he managed to live through Eddie’s Violin Month he can live through anything.

He lived through Eddie’s sewing phase, his novel-writing phase and his (honest-to-god awful) baking phase, and survived to tell the tale.

Nothing had prepared him for Eddie’s current phase, though.

It seemed harmless at first. It was even kind of adorable, really; the way Eddie’s eyes glinted with excitement when he sat Steve down to watch him do a cute little card trick, the way he laughed triumphantly when it was, in fact, Steve’s card.

It got less cute when Eddie got himself cuffed to their bedpost for hours in the most unsexy way Steve could imagine, refused Steve’s offer to let him out and making him feed him since his hands were, well, preoccupied.

It also wasn’t cute when Eddie stabbed himself with a pencil in attempt to make it disappear.

But it’s plain rude now, when Steve’s trying to get a little nap after a terrible day at the school where he’s started teaching. Eddie knows he’s sleeping, Steve made sure to call him on his way home and let him know he had a bad day and that he’ll be spending as much of it as he can sleeping it off. He trusted Eddie enough to keep it down that he didn’t bother to close their bedroom door properly, and he had also kinda hoped Eddie would see it as the invitation it was for him to cuddle up to Steve and make his awful day just a bit better.

Yet here Eddie is, an hour or so after he got back home, seemingly running into every single piece of furniture they own.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbles, and Steve has to give him credit for at least trying to be quiet. “Come back here.”

Steve sleepily opens one eye at that. There shouldn’t be anyone out there but Eddie, right? He listens intently to hear someone else speaking, but he can’t hear anything but the quiet thump of someone hitting their kitchen table and Eddie’s frustrated grunting.

“Please, babydoll. Come back to me.”

And now Steve’s interest is really piqued.

Steve opens his other eye and sits up. He debates heading out there and seeing whatever happens out there himself, but decides to let it all play out just a little bit longer. It’s not like he believes Eddie is capable of cheating on him; he knows Eddie loves him too much to make him go through something like that, and he also isn’t dumb enough to do so when he knows Steve is sleeping in the other room.

He listens as Eddie makes some quiet tsk noises with the tip of his tongue. “C’mon, princess,” he whispers, not loud enough to wake Steve up, but definitely loud enough that Steve hears now that he’s really listening. “No, no, don’t go there, Steve’s sleeping, fuck.”

Steve lies back down quickly when he hears the door creak a bit wider to pretend being asleep, covering himself up to his eyes with their blanket. He can hear something’s small feet tapping on their bedroom tiles before hearing Eddie’s steps, and is he tiptoeing?

Even when he’s almost panicked about whatever it is Eddie had brought home, Steve can’t help but have a fond smile spread across his face. There is love in this, so immense and great, and Steve can be nothing but grateful and madly in love as well.

The tiny feet keep running around and Steve can vaguely imagine what it is- a kitten, or maybe a puppy, but relatively tiny ones at that. The tapping sound comes to a short stop then starts off again.

Eddie sighs, relieved, and it sounds like he crouches down. “Come on, come on,” he whispers. “There you go, good girl.”

The sound of tapping feet stops and Eddie gives the thing a kiss. “Don’t ever make me go through this again, babylove.” He mutters accusingly. “How can I trust you in battle if you pull this kind of shit on me?”

Eddie turns to go. Steve can imagine the kitten cuddling itself in Eddie’s arms. Knowing Eddie, the kitten’s probably black, maybe missing an eye or an ear, whichever makes it harder to adopt for regular people. Eddie’s not a regular person, though. The mental image he created is so endearing to him that he can’t help but loudly yawn. “Baby?” He says, trying to make his voice sound as sleepy as he can, even though he’s been wide awake for a while now. Eddie stops and turns around.

The room is dark, but even in the darkness Steve can see that whatever it is Eddie’s holding is both white and obviously not a cat.

“Hey, Stevie, did I wake you up?” He whispers, his tone apologetic, like a kid found out with his hand in the near-empty cookie jar.

“What’s that?” Steve asks back instead of answering.

Steve turns his bedside light on, and after the initial shock of light momentarily blinding him he can clearly see it; a white bunny being cradled in Eddie’s arms.

“She’s my assistant,” Eddie explains, as if it explains anything, “her name is Jessica. Get it? Jessica Rabbit?”

“Your assistant.”

“Yeah,” he says sheepishly.

“For the…”

“Magic tricks?”

“Oh.”

“I’ll take care of her, though,” Eddie sits down on the edge of the bed, Jessica sitting in his lap, “take her out on walks and feed her and everything. You wouldn’t even notice she’s here.”

Steve sits up and motions for Eddie to hand him the bunny, which he dutifully does. Her fur is so soft, probably the softest thing Steve had ever felt. “That’s not how you take care of a bunny,” Steve says as he rubs his hands gently through her fur, “she isn’t a dog.”

“How do you take care of a bunny then? ‘Cause I bought, like, a bunch of carrots.”

Steve laughs. “Oh god, I love you.”

“That means we’re keeping her, right?” Eddie takes his shoes off- Steve pointedly does not think about how their living room might look like- and cuddles up in bed next to Steve. He looks up at him so hopefully Steve is flooded with warmth and love, so flooded he can’t even remember what annoyed him so much at work today.

Steve kisses his forehead, then his nose, then softly his lips. “Sure. One condition, though.”

“What is it?”

“Can you teach me the pulling her out of a hat trick?”

Eddie grins wide. “Of-fucking-course.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #the kind of shit I write to avoid my bb fic #speaking of thank you bb author chat for indulging my bullshit #tal writes

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donnas-dollface · 5 months

Text

"Home Is You."

pairing; valeria garza x afab! reader

warnings; nothing really, it's just pretty fluffy because i'm yearning for some domestic content :') and because my cramps are killing me.

summary; that time of month always sucks. you swear that your own body is trying to kill you, with the way your cramps manage to leave you bedridden. but your amazing girlfriend takes the day off to watch over you.

NOTHING COULD DESCRIBE THE HELLISH PAIN YOU WERE IN THIS MORNING. The way that it felt like somebody was squeezing your insides, and every little movement somehow managed to make it worse. Just laying still did very little to soothe your cramps. You'd simply be laying still, and suddenly the wave of nausea would hit you like a train. Your eyesight and sense of smell were also heightened for whatever reason, making you more vulnerable to the nausea and headaches.

After awhile of trying to lay in a comfortable position, you gave up, just simply laying in the quiet bed, your eyes shut. Somewhere in the messy bedsheets, the sound of your phone buzzing caused you to perk up. A loud sigh left you, and you began to lazily pat the bed, searching for it. Maybe it was just a phone notification or something of the like. But on the rare chance that it was Valeria, you always checked. She hardly messaged when she was working or doing business, but there were those times she'd slip away to talk with you for a few moments.

Finally, your hand managed to locate the phone, and you lifted it besides your face, turning on the screen. The message icon popped up, revealing a message from the one person on your mind. Her.

"Good morning mi amor. You feeling any better than earlier?"

"more miserable actually, my stomach wants me dead."

"I'm sorry I had to come in today, but I'll make it up to you. Do you need me to pick you up anything?"

"bottles of ibuprofen and a vitamin water please?"

"Alright, I'll see you after awhile hermosa. I hope you're drinking your water."

And with that, you shut off your phone. It'd be hours until she'd come home, and that's if there wasn't some urgent matter that needed her attention. Maybe it was best to try and nap again for half the day. It was better and more appealing than suffering for the entirety of it. After a bit of a struggle, you found a comfortable position, dozing off for a good hour or two. It wasn't until you felt the shift in the mattress that you stirred, rolling over to see what it was.

Valeria stared back, smiling a bit, moving herself closer to you. Wrapping her arms around you, she gently pulled you on top of her, your head on her chest. Her warmth and scent brought a bit of comfort, and you sighed contently.

"You look like shit."

"I sure feel like it."

One of her hands was already in your hair, weaving through it, gently massaging and scratching your scalp with her manicured nails, while the other rubbed your lower back. That was the thing with you. She couldn't stand seeing you in pain, even if it was something uncontrollable like menstrual cramps. Business and everyone could wait, if you needed her, she'd come with no hesitation. Cruel and heartless, she could be with anyone else. But with you, she allowed herself to let her guard down. To be loved.

After a few moments of silence, she pressed her lips to your forehead, just living in the moment. With the way your breaths were slow and quiet, she already knew you'd fallen asleep. Not that she minded, your skin was pale, and your eyes had exhaustion written all over them. Maybe after you woke up, she'd take you into the kitchen to make something small and pick out a show. Anything you wanted.

-Kaylee 11/23/2023

*reblogs greatly appreciated and welcomed!!

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sirfrogsworth · 5 months

Text

Froggie's (Almost) Very Productive Day 2: Electric Boogaloo

So, the plan was to have my one productive day and then rest for however long the consequences of post exertional malaise decide they want to take.

But I needed to bring the working key fob back to the tire place so they could calibrate the tire pressure sensors. So, the day after my day, I napped until about 4pm and summoned the last bit of energy I had to finish this task.

After they fixed the sensors, I looked out over a beautiful sunset in the Discount Tire parking lot.

It's weird the places you find beauty sometimes.

I was about a mile away from my family's favorite pizza place. We've been going there since I was a tadpole. So I decided to grab a pizza as my Thanksgiving meal.

I didn't realize that the day before Thanksgiving would be just about the busiest night of the year. And they have the world's worst parking lot, half of which is a steep hill, and they didn't have enough spaces.

Google Maps has flattened the appearance of the hill. That thing is nearly a 40 degree angle. If anyone with a sports car wants a pizza, they are going to scrape their paint trying to get it.

So, I tried to park around back. Unfortunately someone was exiting the back parking lot and there is only one lane.

So... I backed up... into a pole.

I was going extremely slow and I barely tapped it. But I still felt pretty stupid. Thankfully no scratches or dents.

I finally find parking and head inside.

The Italian kitsch is always a "welcome" sight.

Every time I look it takes me like 10 seconds to figure out the configuration of his face. I find it is best to look at the mustache first, and then orient yourself from there.

I head to the counter and she asks for my name, assuming I am picking up a phone order. I explained I was just "dropping in" and then she gave me an "oof" face. The wait was nearly two hours. I told her I could get a few things from the grocery store and return for my pizza. She charges my card and I hop back in my car. Just as I was about to exit the parking lot of doom, a customer from Angelo's starts yelling at me.

"You forgot your card!"

Clearly my brain fog is starting to get to me. I left my damn bank card on the counter. So I have to exit the parking lot, drive into another parking lot, turn around, and then park again. I retrieved my card and headed to Nice Schnucks.

The GPS took me on a wild journey to the NS. I've lived in this area for 40 years and I had no idea some of these roads existed. I'm sure it was 3 minutes faster or whatever, but I think I would have preferred a route with streetlights. Unlit streets give me a bit of anxiety. Especially if I don't know them.

I get to NS and realize I was about to have the same problem I did at the pizza place. It was the night before Thanksgiving and the entire neighborhood was scrambling to get food for the next day.

I filled up on soups, frozen pizzas, and I got a few more bottles of my beloved soda. There is a Shirley Temple flavor I have yet to try. (Update: A rare Fitz's fail. Tasted like cough medicine.) And then I headed to the madness of the self-checkout.

I managed to kill about an hour, but my legs were getting wobbly. I really shouldn't have gone back out this soon. And I probably should have just headed home after the car was fixed. But I feared if I didn't do *something* special for Thanksgiving I would probably have a difficult time being all alone.

I head back to Angelo's. This time I was able to park in front and avoid hitting any poles.

The pizza was cooking and needed another 15 minutes. So I sat at a table and worked on finishing writing my to-do list for my trip to Florida. I was trying to tell Amazon that, yes, I do want a tiny bottle of shampoo to comply with the TSA security theater. But, no, I do not want 8 tiny shampoos.

Oh, did you know they charge you a "9/11 tax" when you buy a plane ticket?

Spirit Airlines has a pretty funny alternative name for it...

"After 9/11, the U.S. implemented the “9/11 Security Tax”, which was a fee of $2.50 each way of a trip on top of the price of a plane ticket. In 2014, the 9/11 Security Tax was increased to $5.60 each way. So, for a round trip this fee would cost $11.20"

We are literally still paying for 9/11. And there is no evidence the enhanced security does much of anything.

So we pay this tax so they can force us to buy tiny shampoo and go through scanners that have to detect and blur our genitals so the TSA agent can't see.

Anyway... I finally get my pizza and head home. When I pulled into my driveway I noticed a bright moon in the sky. It looked so massive compared to other nights, so I tried to capture a moon selfie.

As a photographer, I should have realized that a wide angle lens is not going to capture how big the moon looked in the sky that night. Wide lenses exaggerate distance. So things close to the lens look huge and things far away look tiny. That's why we look like aliens if we hold our smartphones too close to our face. To the lens on your camera, the distance from the tip of your nose to your ears is quite vast. Which meens a celestial body that is 240,000 miles away looks like a tiny dot in the picture.

I still kept trying.

That could be a moon I guess.

Umm, Froggie... you got some moon in your hair.

Later I did try to capture the moon with my DSLR and an 80mm lens, but I guess the moon is just really far away or something.

ENHANCE!

A.I. upscaling reveals it is, in fact, the moon.

I ate my pizza and did a quick tire test and photoshoot.

And then I spent way too long Photoshopping this X-wing flying into my deep-as-heck tire tread.

And that was my day after the day.

Today, which is currently Thanksgiving, I slept.

I slept all night.

I slept most of the day.

I still want to sleep.

Weirdly, I am too tired to feel lonely. Though now that I wrote that, I am thinking about my parents being gone, so I just screwed that up.

But hey... at least my pizza was tasty.

#long post

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shootingstarpilot · 18 days

Text

In Which Helix Loses His Godsdamned Temper

A gift for my dear friend @themonopolyhat, who wanted to know how the swivel chair race briefly mentioned in Chapter 11 of like lightning changing hands went down <3

Helix and sleep are passing acquaintances at best.

Not enemies, no- he's not a fool. He's a good medic. He knows sleep is important. Even for the clones, who were conditioned to function on half as much sleep as a human nat-born- toxic byproducts need to be processed. New neural pathways need to be formed. Memories need to be filed away. So of course he makes time for it. He most certainly doesn't need Needle coaxing him away from his desk or switching out his stims or shoving him down onto a cot and sitting on him until he passes out- no matter how much the younger medic might protest otherwise-

But. His point.

He makes room for it. Their moments of true downtime are few and far between, but Helix always makes sure to squeeze in a treasured nap or two when he gets the chance.

Which is why, when he's rudely awoken by shouting outside the medbay door that is not immediately followed by the reveal of some horrific injury, Helix decides he's well overdue to rain hellfire down on whatever hapless idiots decided to work out their post-campaign jitters right outside his fucking medbay.

He pulls the pillow off his head, rolls to his feet, and stalks towards the door, carefully selecting his most threatening expression and arranging it appropriately.

When the door slides open, he inhales-

And then lets the air out again in a slightly anticlimactic whoosh when he comes face to face with an empty hallway.

Feeling immensely irritated, he steps out of the doorway and glances to the left and right.

Where-?

The noise is barely a ripple at the back of his mind, at first. Almost indistinguishable from the ever-present rumbling of the engines.

Then it very quickly overtakes it.

Helix, operating solely on well-honed instinct, flattens himself against the wall just in time for a blur of motion to careen around the corner. They slow as they hit the curve, just enough for him to make out-

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Auks, on the swivel chair, gripping both edges with white-knuckled hands- Wooley, hands on the back of the chair, moving at a dead sprint-

Auks' gaze flickers up just enough to catch Helix's eyes, wild glee melting into a pants-pissing terror. They disappear around the next corner, and Helix indulges in a mental pat on the back when he hears Auks' distant shriek of-

"Go faster!"

Right.

He lets them go. He'll catch up with them later.

After a moment's consideration, he steps into the middle of the hallway, studying the water stain on the ceiling with all the appearance of sincere diligence.

The distant rumbling grows louder.

Hm. He should think about filing a work order with Maintenance.

Underneath, now, the sound of footsteps-

They don't want to let that pipe burst, after all.

"OhshitohfuckCOVER-"

He doesn't move.

A screeching noise, an even louder scream-

A tangle of limbs tumbles past his left, slamming into the corner with a force that Helix deliberately doesn't wince at.

Longshot is the first to sit up, carefully disentangling himself from the pathetic remains of the chair. He doesn't look at all frightened when he looks up at Helix.

Just resigned.

"In my defense," he says, rolling his shoulder assessingly, "I told them this location was a bad idea."

"It was," Helix agrees, poisonously sweet.

Gearshift is the next to emerge, clutching at his face. Longshot pats him on the back. "All good?"

Faintly muffled, slightly more stuffy-

"You broke my nose!"

"I broke your nose?"

"You!" Gearshift amends, pointing at Helix, the effect of his glare somewhat lessened by the blood pouring between his fingers. "What were you thinking?"

"Standing in the hallway?"

"Y-"

Gearshift falters.

Helix smiles at him.

"Do you know how big this ship is, Gearshift?" he says mildly.

"Pretty big, sir," Gearshift mutters.

"Do you know how often I have time to nap?"

"Probably not very often, sir."

"Do you know how loud you idiots were?"

"No, sir."

"This was the third round, though," Longshot adds blithely. "Can't have been too bad if you slept through the other two-"

"Shut your mouth," Helix says pleasantly. "Where are the others?"

Longshot points.

"Right," Helix says, already running through his death-be-upon-you-if-you-try-this-banthashit-again speech in the back of his mind. He jabs a finger at Gearshift. "Stay here. I want to take a look at your nose when I get- stop tilting your head back, do you want to asphyxiate on your own blood? I'll be right back."

He stalks off without waiting for an answer.

The others aren't far off. Two hallways down and Helix can already make out the cheerful chatter, rising alongside his blood pressure.

"-and Auks clocked in at three minutes on the dot, fastest lap yet," Waxer says cheerfully. Helix picks up his pace. "Right, Trapper, you're up- who's your partner?"

Trapper is, however, doomed to a life of loneliness, because it's at that precise moment that Helix rounds the corner and launches into a lecture that will be whispered about among the shinies for years to come.

"-swivel chairs! Fucking swivel chairs, I thought you were all supposed to be soldiers, not tubies running along the godsdamned catwalks-"

Trapper shrinks backwards, ducks his head, and his patient resignation drives Helix's ire to new heights-

"-had the entire ship to be suicidal in, but no, you had to plot out your fucking racecourse directly outside my fucking medbay when I was getting the first sleep I'd had in three days-"

Waxer scuffs his foot against the floor, looking like he's considering taking a step backward, and then thinks better of it-

"-slammed his head into the wall and broke his fucking nose, if he'd hit half an inch higher his brains would've spilled out like soup because you couldn't even think to use your fucking helmets-"

Boil seizes the opportunity when Helix is forced to stop for breath.

"We did have supervision," he points out. "Medical. So, you know- we got cleared-"

"Who," Helix grits out, "the fuck-"

The crowd pulls back like the tide, and Helix stares.

Stitch stares up at him from where he's perched on the edge of yet another swivel chair, white-faced.

Needle, holding onto the back, offers him a wave.

"Integrated supervision," he says cheerfully. "New management principle I heard about, thought we could give it a try-"

A muscle in Helix's jaw jumps.

"You two," he grits out, "with me. And the rest of you-" he snaps, at the rustle of a collective relieved sigh- "pull this banthashit again, and I'll deliver you to Grievous hog-tied on a platter- now, am I understood?"

At the affirmative murmurs, he turns on his heel and strides off, followed hurriedly by his two renegade medics.

The strained silence is broken only by two sets of footsteps for some time.

"Stitch," Helix says, after a moment, "get off the chair."

A pause. Then three sets of footsteps.

Then, so quiet Helix has to strain to hear it-

"Is Gearshift okay?"

Helix closes his eyes and forces a slow exhale out through his nose.

(His head is pounding.)

"Yeah," he says, making a conscious effort to gentle his voice. "Just a broken nose. No other trauma that I could tell. You deal with that when we get back, okay? Run him through the gauntlet. Use your best judgement."

"Okay, Helix."

The silence gains a certain obnoxious quality to it.

"And you," Helix says, considering-

Then it hits him.

"You can put that nutritional learning module to use," he decides. "Kitchens. Run through the new requisition forms with Terror. Help him rebuild a sustainable menu; the routine shipments got changed last week."

Needle does not appear half as peeved as Helix would like him to.

He catches Helix's glare and grins, irrepressibly sunny. "Will do, boss. Terror and I are friends, I like his company."

"Terror doesn't do friends."

"Mm, fair. We're nemeses, then. I think that's the closest thing he has."

Helix's glower darkens.

The rest of the walk back is silent.

They split when they reach the medbay. Stitch heads for Gearshift immediately- and Longshot, who, Helix notes with mild surprise, had stayed with him. Needle peels off for the kitchens, humming under his breath with a nonchalance that makes Helix want to deck him.

And Helix-

Helix heads for his office.

All inclination towards sleep has vanished. He grits his teeth, settles into his chair, rubs at his forehead-

He's sure there's some flimsiwork he can get ahead on.

Later:

After he realizes exactly why Stitch is skittering away from him at every turn-

After he sits him down and patiently explains that the absolute worst punishment he will ever receive- the punishment for the Fuck-Up Of All Fuck-Ups, the punishment if he is found to be unfit for medical work- will be being reassigned to a different unit-

After he sees their youngest primary off to bed, guilt still pulling his shoulders low and dragging at his steps-

Needle comes back.

The first Helix knows of this is when a knock at his office door rouses him from staring at the same page on his datapad that he has been for the past forty minutes.

"Come in," he mutters, and Needle pokes his head through the door.

"Hey, boss," he says, and steps in fully, carefully shutting the door behind him. "New menu's been filed. Double- and triple-checked."

"Mhm."

Needle settles into the chair and sets a cup Helix hadn't noticed him carrying onto his desk.

"Tea," he says quietly, in answer to Helix's questioning look. "Thought you might need it."

Helix grumbles something incoherent, but picks up the drink anyway.

The warmth seeps all the way up his arms, into his shoulders, and he relaxes quite against his will.

They sit in silence for a long moment.

"Things were getting tense in the training rooms," Needle says at last. "They were at each other's throats. Kamei had already dislocated Trigger's shoulder, and he didn't even seem sorry- you know how those two are."

Helix blinks. He does- and- that's right, they hadn't been there, had they?

"This was the first thing I could come up with. I should've thought of the helmets, you were right about that- I'm sorry I didn't. I just wanted to get them moving."

"And of course this was the first thing you thought of," Helix mutters. He sees Needle's expression twist briefly, and guiltily musters up a quirk of his lips. "Sounds like you."

Needle returns the smile, and then his gaze drops to his knees.

"I didn't know you were sleeping, either," he says eventually. "You- you don't usually. I should've checked, I know, I just figured- keeping the medbay on the route would make for easier access if someone did get injured."

Helix takes a sip of the tea.

It's not caf.

But it's-

Good.

"Sorry about that," Needle finishes lamely. His fingers twitch and flicker and jump before he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his scrubs.

Helix takes another sip- longer than he'd meant to, this time, and when he looks down he realizes he's nearly drained the cup.

His headache is easing.

"Longshot said that was the third round," he says at last. "How'd you two do on the others?"

Needle stares at him, uncomprehending, for one long moment-

Then a smile like the sun splits his face.

"Oh, knocked them out of orbit, boss."

"Good," Helix mutters. He stands, places the empty mug on the table, and stretches until he feels his back crack. "Right. I'm going to get some sleep, then. You got the shift?"

"Course I do," Needle says easily, and Helix squeezes his shoulder on his way out.

Stitch is sitting up when he emerges, ruffled hair and sleep-fogged eyes sending a pang through Helix's chest.

"Hey, kiddo," he says quietly. "Mind if I join you?"

Stitch squints at him. "Helix?" he says at last. "Needle said you needed to lie down."

"Oh, he did, did he?" Helix mutters, glancing back at the office door. He doesn't even bother to try mustering a glare.

"Uh-huh," Stitch hums, already slipping back into sleep. He curls onto his side and pats the empty space next to him. "Come on."

Helix kicks off his boots and obligingly settles under the blanket, and Stitch shuffles a bit closer and wraps an arm around his chest.

"Needle told me you two won," Helix murmurs.

"Yeah," Stitch says sleepily. A slow smile blooms across his face. "He can go pretty fast."

"Well," Helix sighs. "I guess that's okay, then."

As it turns out, sleep can come easily after all.

#shoulder the sky #this was meant to be a little drabble but now i'm scared to check the word count #cuddle time with the medics #because i love them #and they deserve it #needle has the highest emotional iq out of all of them and you can't change my mind

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tokidokitokyo · 3 months

Text

ことわざ 16/?

ことわざ are Japanese proverbs, and I have listed some basic proverbs, their equivalents in English, and a rough translation of the meanings of the Japanese phrase.

There is a test for ことわざ called the ことわざ能力検定 (ことわざのうりょくけんてい) and these are the phrases that appear in level 9 or 9級 (10 being the lowest level). For the time being, try one or two of these out the next time you speak with a native Japanese speaker!

ことわざ (こと検9級): 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 More ことわざ (こと検10級): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

歯が浮く

はがうく

cringe-inducing

causing an uncomfortable feeling akin to a loose tooth

歯が立たない

はがたたない

to stand no chance against (opponent/challenge)

teeth cannot stand against the hardness

鼻息が荒い

はないきがあらい

expressing passion and excitement

breathing heavily through the nose

鼻が利く

はながきく

to have a knack for finding money-making opportunities

nose is effective in sniffing out money-making opportunities

鼻が高い

はながたかい

to be filled with pride

hold your nose high

鼻であしらう

はなであしらう

to treat someone with contempt

signal contempt using your nose

鼻で笑う

はなでわらう

to scoff

laugh through your nose

鼻に掛ける

はなにかける

to brag, boast or show off

hang prominently on your nose

鼻に付く

はなにつく

to become tiresome

tiresome behavior that becomes like a bad stench that sticks in your nose

鼻持ちならない

はなもちならない

to become unbearable

bad attitude/behavior likened to a stench so bad you can't stand it even when holding your nose

鼻を明かす

はなをあかす

to outwit, get the jump on, catch off guard

reveal your nose and surprise your opponent

鼻を折る

はなをおる

to take someone down a peg

break someone's nose

鼻を突く

はなをつく

putrid, rank, foul

a smell that stabs the nose

鼻を鳴らす

はなをならす

to whine in an attempt to get your way

to sound your nose

歯に衣着せぬ

はにきぬきせぬ

blunt, straightforward, without 'sugar-coating' it

without applying coating to your teeth

歯の抜けたよう

はのぬけたよう

appearing empty or deserted

like a mouth with its teeth removed

歯の根が合わない

はのねがあわない

teeth chattering from cold/fear

unable to align the base of your teeth

腹が黒い

はらがくろい

deceptive, conniving, black-hearted (also, 腹黒い)

black stomach (disposition)

腹が据わる

はらがすわる

to feel confident

have your stomach (courage) steadied

腹が立つ

はらがたつ

to get angry

have your stomach (disposition) get riled up

腹が減っては戦はできぬ

はらがへってはいくさはできぬ

you can't work on an empty stomach

you can't do battle when hungry

腹に据え兼ねる

はらにすえかねる

to have all you can stand; to be fed up

unable to settle your stomach (disposition)

腹の皮が捩れる

はらのかわがよじれる

side-splitting

makes you laugh so hard the skin of your stomach twists

腹の虫が治まらない

はらのむしがおさまらない

to have all you can stand; to be fed up

unable to settle your stomach worm (from ancient belief that Three Demonic Worms live in the head, chest and stomach and monitor the host's behavior)

腸が煮え繰り返る

はらわたがにえくりかえる

to have your blood boil

have your organs boiling repeatedly

腹を探る

はらをさぐる

to try and infer what someone is thinking/feeling

search someone's stomach (disposition)

腹を割る

はらをわる

to open up (and converse frankly)

split your stomach (emotional center) open

歯を食いしばる

はをくいしばる

to grin and bear it

bite and lock your teeth

膝を交える

ひざをまじえる

to get together for a friendly chat

sit knees crossed and chat

人の口には戸は立てられぬ

ひとのくちにとはたてられぬ

people are gonna talk

you can't erect a door over a person's mouth

一肌脱ぐ

ひとはだぬぐ

to help in any way you can

remove your top and expose your upper body skin to signal intent to get serious and help

腑に落ちない

ふにおちない

unsatisfying (conclusion or explanation)

does not fall in line with your gut (better judgment)

臍で茶を沸かす

へそでちゃをわかす

you're killing me!; that's rich!

that makes me laugh so hard, I could boil tea on my bellybutton! usually said in a mocking manner)

臍を曲げる

へそをまげる

to get cranky

hunched over grumpy making your bellybutton bend

下手な鉄砲も数撃てば当たる

へたなてっぽうもかずうてばあたる

given enough tries, anyone can succeed

even a poorly handled cannon, fired enough times will hit the mark by sheer chance

下手の考え休むに似たり

へたのかんがえやすむににたり

an idiot in thought may as well be napping

a poor attempt at thinking is the same as just resting

下手の横好き

へたのよこずき

a glutton for punishment

unskilled at something, but you insist on liking it

臍を噬む

ほぞをかむ

to regret bitterly

using the futility of trying to chew your own bellybutton as a metaphor for the futility of agonizing over the past

骨折り損の草臥れ儲け

ほねおりぞんのくたびれもうけ

a whole lot of effort for a whole lot of nothing

work til you suffer broken bones and earn only exhaustion

骨が折れる

ほねがおれる

difficult or intensive (work)

work that will break your bones

骨身を削る

ほねみをけずる

to work yourself to the bone

shave down your body and bones with work

骨を埋める

ほねをうずめる

to live out your life somewhere; to dedicate your life to a pursuit

bury your bones somewhere

骨を折る

ほねをおる

to work hard without complaint

break your bones to accomplish something or support someone

#日本語 #japanese #japanese language #japanese langblr #langblr #studyblr #ことわざ #japanese proverbs #こと検9級 #は #は～ほ #tokidokitokyo #tdtstudy

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itsagrimm · 8 months

Text

He Who Comes from under the Water

Chapter 11 - The Dive

Monster!König X she/her afab Reader

CN: Mentions of possible death and injury, fear of water, nearly drowning, mentions of possibly getting hurt, inappropriate use of an axe, depression and bad mental health, on character is passively suicidal, cannibalism, fear of being alone, fear of separation from a loved one, lack of self-confidence, kissing, making out, partial nudity

Notes for better understanding at the bottom!

Beta-read by the equally afflicted @queenquazar. Unhinged writing and editing sessions in the dead of night wouldn't be the same without you.

6.0k words

Masterlist

Hope you enjoyed your summer as I have but now as it's getting colder, darker and most importantly weather outside, I am fairly sure updates will roll quicker now.

also I need to do more trips with my camera, I am running out of decent looking header photos.

I made a playlist for this series. Enjoy.

The fresh morning breeze caressed over your slowly warming up skin. Branches of trees danced a lazy rhythm and the late birds of summer sang their song. Ghost stood next to you, wrapped in his coat made of leaves and moss and sturdy solitude, as you both looked up to the window of your bedroom. König was in there, still asleep and out of your reach.

“Let’s try to wake up König one more time.”

Hope reared its head as you heard Ghost’s words.

But not too high.

“How?” You wondered out loud. “I am sorry that you feel stuck here with me, but König did not wake up last time you tried. Why should he now?”

“Maybe we need to try harder,” Ghost replied and grabbed Königs axe.

Your eyes widened.

“Hold on!” You tried to stop what was unfolding before you, only to witness Ghost grow in size, taller than the trees, taller than the house, and far away from your little human words.

“Enough, little brother,” Ghost groaned from high above you and you had to shield your ears from the loud thundering voice “It is time to wake up. I am tired of guarding your Bride in your stead.”

Birds took off, the earth shook and trees froze as in fear of the giant that was said to be their guardian.

Ghost straightened up and turned to the house.

“Hey!”

Like an animal on the hunt that got caught, Ghost froze and turned back, staring down at you with an oddly blank expression.

“What are you up to, Ghost?” You called, trying to ignore the little voice in your mind telling you that shutting up and quivering in fear before the giant was a smarter strategy to survive.

“Why the axe?” You squeaked as you tried not to squeak.

Ghost blinked, confused by this little being that was his future sister in law. Such a flimsy thing of flesh and bone, shouting at him from her place in the dirt. Ghost glanced at the axe, shaking his head.

“Right. I am sorry. I am not used to explaining myself but you have every right to ask,” Ghost admitted, and fell back into a shape more approachable to you, like a shadow growing smaller by the change of light.

“You can do it.” Ghost said. “Hit König with the axe to wake him up.”

You blinked, it was your turn to stare confused.

“He is just the Vodyanoy napping in water. Swinging an axe against him is like hitting the surface of a lake, stirring up a few waves but nothing else. He will be fine. And hopefully he will wake up from it.” Ghost explained and passed you the heavy axe before growing in size again.

You looked down onto the massive wood axe in your hands, the wooden handle old and used.

“Are you sure that will work, Ghost?” Uncertainty creeping up in your mind and voice, worry and frustration manifesting about your fiance’s wellbeing and actions.

“Have you ever heard of running water getting cut?” Ghost answered. “I am not saying König will like it, but it won’t harm him. Trust me.”

You swallowed, feeling uneasy. Hitting a human with an axe in their sleep was murder. Plain and simple. But, König was as much a human as you were a fish. His skin shifted and shaped as he pleased. He ruled the waters and even summoned them in his dreams after not sleeping for who knows how long, destroying your room. And his eyes…

“I understand this might be a lot to ask,” Ghost paused. “You will have to trust me on this one, Vodyanitza.”

His words danced through your mind like willow branches in the wind. If Ghost would have wanted to and this was ill-intentioned, he could have harmed König without bothering to talk and convince you of this plan. Maybe there was a point in trusting Ghost even if the thought of König getting hurt made you grow colder inside than the cooler morning breeze ever could.

You looked up to the giant and nodded.

“Let’s do this.”

“Hold on tight,” He stated and grabbed you to place onto the window sill to your bedroom. Like a leaf he tumbled into the room after you, turning himself small again and landing in the splashing water on your bedroom floor.

You cried out, first in surprise than dreadful fear from all the water suddenly around you as the heavy axe slipped out of your fingers and landed in the water, sinking down with a shallow ‘clunk’ against the wooden planks.

“Ghost. I-” you eyed the water splashing around the room like a lively river. Or a dark river, a deep river, deep enough to drown. “I am afraid of water. I can’t get down from here. I can’t do it.”

Ghost made a sound that could have been a grumbled curse whispered by a tree before being hit by lightning.

“A Vodyaniza who fears the water,” He stated. “Sounds right like the mess my brother would cause. Alright, I’ll do it then.”

“Wait,” You looked at König as you tried to calm your nerves as you took deep calming breaths. He was still deep asleep. A mess of tangled unhuman limbs and scales and hair and skin in the waters of your flooded room. Panic and fear surged from all the water, but you forced those emotions in you aside as you tried to commit his sight to your memory, just in case something was to go wrong.

“Okay,” You finally agreed and nodded to Ghost.

This was it.

Ghost picked up the axe from the water and raised it high before swinging it down onto König.

The impact of the axe connecting with Königs head sounded like thunder rolling over you.

Loud and painful and final.

Suddenly, like a storm, the water rose and reached high before you, waves building and crashing at your feet as you held onto the window frame for dear life while trying to see through the room filled with fine droplets of water and foamy waves.

A groan rang through your ear.

Königs voice - strained and painfully familiar.

Another groan as you heard a second hit from the axe through the wild waters before you … like…

…like a yawn before having to leave bed, yet still feeling tired.

“König?” You hoped aloud, your voice being drowned out by the rushing water and Ghost’s deep voice.

“Wakey-wakey, brother! Stop making your Bride wait for you!”

“Urgh.”

A massive wave crashed right next to the wall with your window, breaking the glass and causing the house to shake from the impact.

“Get up, little brother.” You could not see through all the splashing water before you, only hearing the sound of Ghost’s deep voice. “Stop being dramatic and flooding your girl’s room. It’s rude.”

A third axe hit thundered through the little space before you. More water rose and a wave finally hit you. You wailed as you tried to fight against the dreadful flood, with desperate fingers you reached for safety. Catching the clammy window frame, the sill, and finally just the thin fabric of the curtains until the pull of the retreating water consumed you and took you in to the deep waters.

The silence of being underwater was more unbearable for your mind than the loud crashing of waves and shattering sounds of the hitting axe above.

For a moment fear froze your body and you could not help but stare as you floated impossibly downwards at the sight of König, coiled up like a serpent snake and shifting scales reflecting the light. His eyes were closed except for a sliver of that beautiful blue peeking into the world as if the king of everything under the water was about to wake up. Bubbles of air fought their way out of your lungs and you felt panic as you watched the axe hitting König from above.

Would he be fine?

No blood came out of the wound that broke as the axe connected with Königs sleeping shape. You watched König being unharmed and lazily stretching his long limbs and body as you floated downwards, taken by a strong current in the impossibly deep waters of your bedroom.

Wait, would you be fine?

König did not notice any of it. Instead, his eyes only slightly fluttered, as if merely being tickled awake - lazy, unfocused blinking of blue eyes before sharpening up. Still sleepy, he looked around as if confused if he was still dreaming or awake. Finally, König locked eyes with you and smiled. It was a beautiful smile, toothy and life-savingly-relieving to see him coming back to his senses.

You did not smile back. The air bubbles in your mouth were too precious a cargo to smile for König, opting instead for an unhappy grimace and some waving motions that hopefully spelled out: ‘I don’t want to be here and need your help to get out’.

For a moment, a very long moment as you struggled, König blinked before the realisation kicked in. He was far away, so far away from you in the waters that he had dreamed up. Yet, unbelievably quick the serpent body moved and changed as König headed for you. With hands, not scaled claws anymore, König reached out as he fought his way through a whole ocean between you and him as a last air bubble left your mouth.

Your head was spinning and you started to lose sight as you felt hands on you that lifted you up and out of the water.

You coughed, ungraciously spitted out water as König tried wiping out hair and tangled clothes out of your face.

“Bride! Are you okay?”

You vomited water at his feet and chest while he held you like a cat that got rescued from the floods, close to his body and patting you like a little animal.

“She looks fine.” Ghost’s gravelly voice sounded through the air as you still tried to blink and see. “You better worry about this flood you caused.”

“Oh. Right.” You felt König shift and then the sound of water draining away as if someone had pulled a plug.

You coughed again for good measure, still feeling weak and miserably wet. The cold was starting to set in as the rush of fear and panic started to run out.

Shivering, you tried wiping away the water from your face and opened your eyes.

Your bedroom was a mess. But not in the way your mother would have disapproved of but in a way she would have questioned whether or not it was still habitable. The water was gone, but the signs of the flood were catastrophically clear with nothing being dry, in pieces or not where it ought to be. Your bed was a pile of torn fabrics and splintered wood. The chest with your clothing, tipped over and empty, looked like a sad hungry animal no one had bothered to feed. And your few personal possessions, kept toys from your childhood, gifts from friends, clothes lying around the floor. Ghost was standing before you on something that might have been pieces of your wedding dress, leaning on the axe with the same skull-covered expression as always, yet appearing somewhat amused under it.

And König - he was holding you up to his chest, his hands still patting you helplessly as if that could help you. He looked human. Mostly. The hair was as messy as the first day you saw him, covering most of his face except for blue eyes burning through with worry.

“I-” you rasped despite the storm of emotions waging through you. “I was so worried about you, König.”

Another cough.

“But I have never been as angry as this before. What did you do with my room? And my wedding dress. Also-”

You felt like there was still some water in places of your body where none was supposed to be, wheezing and shaking your head from the uncomfortable feeling.

“-put me down. You are so cold and I feel like I am freezing in your arms.”

Guiltily, König put you down, mumbling something that could have been an apology while Ghost choked on something that could have been a laugh.

You paid no attention to them, concentrating on your weak legs to hold you and carry you to the torn pieces of your wedding dress. Ghost stepped aside and watched you with open curiosity as you held your dress in disbelief of how quickly your work had turned into rags. Holding back tears, you let the fabric fall back down with a wet squelching sound and turned to the door. If you were lucky the hinges still worked and you could walk out on your own and warm you up again downstairs, away from the left battlefield that used to be your sanctuary.

You stumbled, reaching for the handle and opening the door only to face another cruel adversary.

The stairs.

There was no way you were able to make it down the steps without breaking your neck with how wobbly your legs felt and how ridiculously shaky your hands twitched.

You turned around, the pleading frustration in your eyes too visible for König not to step closer and peaking at the obstacle in your way.

He nodded while trying to control whatever emotions attempted to govern his face.

“Allow me, Bride.” He asked and lifted you up again before carrying you downstairs and into the kitchen, setting you down before the warm oven.

Ghost followed and started preparing tea and a hot stone before leaving the room as König returned with dry clothes for you, magically found somewhere in a part of the house that hadn’t been flooded. You looked at the pieces offered in his hands, only to see that it was a mix of mostly your fathers and brothers clothes from the storage. You did not care. They were dry and the village would judge you no matter what you wore. Might as well just do the best for yourself.

Unceremoniously, you stripped out of your dripping clothes. König held and steadied you where you needed it and grabbed the discarded pile of fabrics to put it up on the laundry line outside once you were done.

You stayed where you were, leaning close to the oven in the hopes of warming up quickly, and refusing to do anything before feeling less miserable.

Ghost was still a guest. And König was your fiance. A good hostess and bride would have started serving them the food that you had previously prepared.

A good hostess and bride would not have been dipped into a pool of dreamed up water in their own bedroom either. You thought bitterly before adding a relieving Fuck it.

Someone knocked at the door and you called them in.

Ghost reappear from the outside with a blanket of moss and leaves, wrapping it around you and placing you in the nearest chair to the oven before passing you a cup of the freshly brewed tea.

“Thank you,” You rattled through cold lips.

König returned with more wood for the oven and added a large log to feed the fire. You had shown him how to care for a fire, never expecting he would ever find a need for it. Both brothers hustled and moved around your little kitchen, hardly speaking and only every once in a while giving you worried glances as they made sure all work of a proper household would be done while you rested and warmed yourself. You closed your eyes, letting the feeling of being safe and cared for, seep in.

This day, even if it was slightly past midday, had punched all energy out of you while also confronting you with every possible emotion a human heart could feel. Waking up in the flood, alone and confused, next to your water serpent like fiance, meeting your future brother-in-law who thought you would die soon, nearly drowning once again while your fiance woke from the literally deepest nap possible in your now destroyed room. You sighed, not even bothering to bring order into your mind.

Instead, you gratefully thought how you finally weren’t alone even if it was scary at times to share your life with beings so different from you - König, Ghost, Farah, talking animals and murderous Rusalkis. Yes, this had been another moment where you could have been harmed. And mourning your room and things destroyed by the flood, was one of many things in the curled grey corners of your mind. There was still anger and confusion in you why it all had happened. But you weren’t alone anymore to face those things on your own. There were people around you now that noticed you and cared for your well-being. Clearly, not all of them to the same degree or out of the same motive. You understood that. But your lost room and wedding dress, your fears and secrets and longings felt more like a coherent song than a desperate cry for help when it wasn’t just your voice.

Someone touched you softly on the shoulder and you opened your eyes.

“Hey.” König stood before you with his blue watery eyes and wild hair.

Both brothers had paused their busy work and stood with their attention turned towards you.

“How are you feeling?” Ghost asked gravely from his far away spot at the door and reached for more tea for you with his long unhuman arms without moving.

You shivered, unsure if from the cold or from the odd reminder that neither of the men were human.

“Better,” You replied. “Thank you for giving me time to recover.”

Your eyes wandered to König, craving to hear his voice again and feel his warming eyes on you. He looked away, avoiding your gaze.

Your little heart dropped deeper than the waters in your room had been, fighting hard to soldier on.

You cleared your throat.

“Well,” you squeaked, your voice still feeling thin and fragily human as you addressed the giant men. “I am starving. This is not how a host normally does it in this house since all I did was sit and rest now. But how about we eat?”

The rabbit stew that you had made this morning smelled tempting and promising from its reheating spot in the oven and you heard your own stomach growl.

“Thank you for the invite, Vodyanitza,” Ghost declared, slightly bowing his head. “But we will have to do that another time.”

“Oh,” You huffed, slightly disappointed.

Ghost stilled, as if thinking before taking a deep breath.

“It has been lovely meeting you, my dear sister-in-law. It’s been a pleasure. Also- ” He paused. “I may have treated you rougher than necessary and I do apologise for that. If you ever need help, just send for me. I may not appear to be the most, let’s say, approachable. But I do hope that there is nothing but the best for you and I am looking forward to your wedding.”

“You are coming after all?” König finally spoke, surprise ringing in his voice as he turned to his brother.

Ghost nodded. “It’s not every day a brother of mine gets married. I need to make sure you don’t drown your own wedding guests.”

König forced a smile.

“Graves marries someone new every couple of years,” He interjected.

“Graves married and remarried so much, he hardly needs his elder brother to tell him how to plan a party. He knows what he is doing.”

Both brothers chuckled and you smiled at the sight, remembering your own brother.

“Before I go, dear sister, allow me to give you something.”

Ghost reached into his coat. From the depths of his pockets he produced a huge leaf, rolled up into a package and bound together with a simple string.

“I suppose you have none yet, but a future queen should wear one. It would look good on your wedding day.”

You took the package from his hands and pressed it slightly, trying to guess what was inside.

“Thank you, Ghost. Why-“

“Open it.”

Obediently you opened the little knot holding the leaf together with slow, cold fingers and unrolling what was inside.

You gasped.

In your hands was a Kokoshnik, large and covered with fine embroidery and colourful stones of green and blue. It felt firm in your hands. And it wanted to be worn. Like a crown, proud and bright for a special day. At least one thing you would have for your wedding day.

You thought back a sob at the thought of your torn wedding dress, your fingers still holding the precious crown like an anchor.

“I am sure König will gladly help you put it on. But don’t lose it. I made it for you and there is no other like it. It will protect you when you walk in the forest.”

“I…”, you huffed, “…don’t know what to say. This is very beautiful. Thank you.”

Ghost just waved with his hand like it was nothing.

“Don’t say anything and just wear it to keep you safe. Do me that favour.”

You nodded, out of words.

“Well, I’ll be gone then. The forest calls me.” Ghost turned to the door and you started to get up to send him off. “Don’t you dare get up, sister. What’s the point of the Kokoshnik if you fall sick from the cold and exhaustion. No, stay right where you are.”

You fell back onto your spot, the moss blanket encasing you like a cocoon of earthly smell and warmth.

“Save travels then, Ghost.” You spoke. “Thank you again.”

“Don’t mention it.” He waved and stepped outside, followed by König.

You sat there, hearing them talk and laugh and wishing each other well without making much out of it.

Then, finally, Ghost was away.

The rest of your day was spent alone with your own thoughts. König, aside from making sure you ate and rested, hardly spoke to you. His distance confused you. It gave a feeling of newfound loneliness when you stared at the unfamiliar ceiling with the wrong knots in the wood and the wrong bedding around you as you leaned against the oven. Ghost’s reassurances just a couple of hours ago now felt like a lie. You were no queen. And there was no way for you to live long enough to ever learn how to be one for König that was good enough. No standing on a box or life saving spells could change that. The finality of your fate was devastatingly simple. You would drown and König, your beloved König, would find himself a better queen. Why else did he withdraw himself like that?

The mauling insecurities inside of you stopped you from asking.

Instead you listened to König rummaging upstairs while you dozed under your moss blanket, practised drawing letters in the ashes of your oven or thought about how you could fix your wedding dress. It was pointless but you had little else to do and so you continued like you had always done.

König had brought the dress out together with the rest of your wet belongings, hanging it up to dry in the sun. The liberating concentration kept you from your dark thoughts: you had watched the dress through the window, mentally placing one piece of rag over the other in the hopes of possibly having a saving idea as the rags swayed gently in the breeze. It had worked until the light grew low and the trees around the house in the garden had started to spawn more unpleasant shadows than welcome distractions.

You got up from your cosy spot and started preparing dinner. Still feeling weak, your legs carried you with a slight tremor as your whole body was plagued by a deep tiredness. It came from all those times not resting. It felt like all those tears not shed. It was a tiredness that wasn’t fixed by sleeping longer one night because it was deeper than the soreness in your muscles and bones. It was the dark abyss of water calling for you. But you could lie to yourself. Opting to go to bed and calling it a day in the hopes that tomorrow would be better. Sometimes, giving up was actually a smart thing.

You huffed, once again forced to consider the reality of your situation.

Going to bed? Where? Your bedroom was destroyed. And the other rooms in your house had been packed up and sealed when your family died. Back then it was too much to bear seeing their things and looking at the places they used to rest. Even now, under no condition were you ready or willing to disturb those rooms. The easiest for you would probably be to sleep here in the kitchen.

But what about König? Would he need to sleep too? Flood the rest of the house and destroy every last bit of habitable space as he took you out in your sleep? Or would he leave you tonight and watch as the human-monsters and monsters-monsters finally had their feast with you. The thought nearly entertained you. Maybe that was better than drowning and at least some poor Tschort would enjoy a bit of your precious meat.

You chuckled at your own morbid thoughts.

But it was not night yet, and maybe there was a bit of queenly pride inside of you yet as you decided to brace yourself for an overdue conversation with König, leaning against the kitchen counter for support.

You opted to make some food. Since it might be your last chance to enjoy a meal before you became a meal, you took your time. There was not much to be done for dinner: heating the left-over stew, cutting some bread made of acorn flour, setting the table. After you finished, you steeled yourself for the hardest part.

“König?” You called upstairs. “Would you like to eat dinner with me?”

You held your breath and waited as the rumbling from upstairs stopped.

“It’s fine if you are busy, but I am hungry and would love your company,” You coaxed.

Heavy steps sounded through the wooden house, causing the old stairs to creak under the weight of the Vodyanoy.

König emerged into the kitchen, bowing down slightly under the marginally too low ceiling and looking at you sheepishly.

“Are you sure, Bride?” He asked. “I haven’t finished repairing your room.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, too stunned to speak before you swallowed down a good chunk of your raging insecurities.

“So that’s what you have been doing up there,” You finally said. “I did not know.”

König looked to the ground like he had been caught stealing goodies from the pantry. It was a look that made your knees weaker than even a day facing terrors could.

“I wanted to repair it. I wanted to apologise with more than words. It’s what good kings ought to do.” He explained looking immensely guilty.

Your breath hitched.

He cared?

You looked down, still thinking of your room and your ruined wedding dress. It did hurt you.

But there was hope because he cared. You nearly hated yourself how desperate you were from the affection of someone who you could never have.

“It’s fine,” You said, after a few moments of heavy silence as you fought the storm inside of you. “It’s fine for now. We will make it work and repair it together. It’s, ah, fine.”

He looked relieved as you looked up from your hands.

“I also want to apologise,” You continued. The words in your mouth felt relieving to spit out like bitter medicine. “I thought about this. I was really cross at you. Not entirely sure how much nicer I could have been considering the moment. But I don’t strive to talk to others like that, especially not my fiance. I just felt hurt and alone.”

He turned his head like the Heron when hunting little fish in the water.

“You have every right to be angry, dear,” König stated

“I...” You tried before stopping and starting anew. “That does not mean I am proud or okay with my words. Especially after Ghost explained to me that you probably overworked yourself on my behalf. I am not sure how to feel about that yet but it does not make me feel good. I don’t want you to suffer because of me. I feel so guilty. And like a burden.”

König stared at you.

“Dear,” He said softly. “I know you want to be good and kind. I know you are. But please give me your bad as well.”

You blinked at him.

“What?”

He raised his arms like a man at a loss of word, stumbling around the room until he turned back to you.

“Guess how I feel failing you over and over again when your reaction to me is kindness and surrender? I feel bad. The worst! Don’t do this to me. Be a burden. Be angry. Be the biggest inconvenient person wherever you go. Please be angry and demand better of me! I want all of you. Not just the nice parts.”

Your head was spinning. Was he…? Did he really…?

“I am not good enough!” König continued his tirade with a voice rising louder and louder like a tea kettle that had reached its boiling point. “I am who puts you in danger over and over again. I hardly protect you from the dangers of the world. I am a danger of the world. I am making a poor husband for you. But the reality is, I am not good enough to step away because I am selfish. So, how dare you make yourself feel any less than you are.”

His eyes gleamed with a madness you had never seen before in him as he lowered his voice with the last of his words. It was dangerous. A sign of warning that told you to step back and run as far away as you could like a good girl should.

But you were just invited to leave that behind you.

“I don't want you to leave either!” You hit back, squaring up to the challenge. “I just don’t want to feel like I am a constant problem. I am just a human! A peasant! And a bad one at that since I will likely starve next winter without help! I know nothing of how to be a queen! I nearly drown all the time! How can you not understand that I don’t feel like I am allowed to be a problem when my reality is that no one cares if I live or die!”

“Because you are wrong! I care.” König's eyes gleamed as he hissed his answer.

“Why?” You spit back, the fire in you burning and ready to torch any bridge behind without thinking.

“Because I love you.”

Königs words hung in the air, irretrievable and powerful enough to break whatever you two had.

You looked at him. His face was frozen in fear and panic. Like he had admitted to a crime he’d sworn to keep a secret.

He loved you. The thought raced through your mind, unsure where to be put and what to do with it now.

“I am sorry,” König said. “I understand. I will make sure you are okay as promised anyway and-”

“Please…” you managed to your own surprise.

“Please?” König asked with his eyes shining down at you.

You took a deep breath and all the courage in you that was left, “Please lean down so I can kiss you.”

König looked at you, too stunned maybe or unsure how to touch you without breaking this human body of yours, before finally kneeling down in one, not so smooth, motion. You stumbled forward, colliding into his chest and tangling in his arms before lifting your head and kissing him.

It was all teeth and desperation. König met your lips with a hunger matching yours, and an anger challenging your long hidden fury. He moaned and you wanted every bit of air you could get from him as you roamed his back and shoulders and arms and chest and neck, and at a certain point you got lost in him. You bit his lips and tasted blood. He snarled and pushed you back, catching your head before you could fall and hurt yourself. You stumbled and fell back anyway, taking him with you. The crash rumbled loudly as König caught himself on his arms, hovering above you before continuing where you had left off. His mouth was addicting, and willingly you answered his salty lips and tongue. A bit of revealed skin at his neck here, a tug at your shirt there. You scooted up feeling hot and needing that damn old shirt off your body because you were burning up with it. Instead of getting it off quickly you got yourself tangled in the large sleeves, nearly ready to just tear it off your body as you felt Königs hands pulling at the fabric and freeing you. The kiss of the cooling air on your skin made you still. For a moment you felt shy, making you cross your arms in instinct before your chest.

König looked at you from a position that was something between kneeling, sitting and lying before you, also half out of his clothes with his Rubacha hanging around his neck and head.

“Not sure why I feel like this is new, now.” You admitted. “You have seen me naked before.”

“That was a different nakedness,” König offered and finished getting the shirt off. “This is new.”

You nodded, understanding entirely what he meant, and continued to feel vulnerable. What were you supposed to do? You had no idea what you wanted now except being close to König.

“We don’t have to continue, my love.” Your fiance said.

You nodded again, reassured yet still utterly lost on what to do.

König scooted closer and slowly raised his hands, “Can I touch you? I just want to hold you.”

Instead of bothering with words or another creative and variety serving nod, you leaned into him. Königs warm hands caught you, pressed you closer to him and embraced you.

You hummed.

“Is this good?”

“Yeah, I am sorry-”

“No,” König shut down instantly. “No more ‘sorry’ for you tonight. Or ever. I really meant that.”

You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion.

“But what if I do something bad?” You countered as you enjoyed feeling close to König. “Shouldn’t I say sorry at some point?”

“To me? Always.” König grinned teasingly before growing serious. “The rest of the world, however, has a lot of apologising to do before you ever get back into a situation to be sorry for something, dear.”

“You just want me to be as bad as you are,” You teased back half-heartedly.

“Naturally.”

You stayed silent, not sure what to say or do except enjoying being safe and loved in Königs arms as you mindlessly explored his back and chest with your fingers, drawing little circles and charms into his wonderful skin.

“We should talk about the sleeping situation tonight.” You finally spoke, breaking the silent spell over you.

“Yeah.” König agreed. “I have an idea.”

Cultural Context Notes:

The theme of the unkillable giants as beings connected to nature can be found in the Edda, but it’s not the only place this theme is explored. It’s just the most clear one I thought of, and can be put into words as a place to maybe start researching if your are interested in that. The idea of hitting König as something akin to a giant to wake him up, comes from the tale of Thor and Skrímnir.

Generally, the idea of paralleling gods/godlike beings, humans and giants, escalated into a bit of a philosophical excursion at the kitchen table when I mentioned how the story is unfolding, leading to the question what exactly the difference between godlings, giants and humans is and if there even is one. In plenty of pre-Christian European tales, there aren’t boundaries between godlike beings and humans. If a human stays with a godlike being, they kind of tag along and don’t die like they would have had when staying with their fellow humans. Sometimes there is an explanation for it (godly ancestry, nectar or Idun’s apples, magical blessings), sometimes there isn’t (Thialfi and Röskva as Thor’s entourage, general trope of humans in service of or in marriage with a non-human being).

Warming stones or using ceramics is an old practice when hot water bottles weren’t available.

There are several legends and myths associating the water or waters generally with snakes. Naturally, there is the saga of the Midgard snake, encompassing the world in Norse mythology. The theme of a great water snake or mermaid-like half-fish, half-human body encompassing the world also comes up in Greek mythology in the figure of Oceanos as the great river god and father of river gods. Since we don’t have plenty of sources about old Slavic beliefs, I am taking the liberty and filling some gaps here from geographically closer regions where we do have more sources on mythology.

Acorn is edible and can be made into a fine flour from which it is possible to bake bread. However, do not just make flour from acorns. It’s a huge process to disinfect and debitter acorns before grinding them into flour. There is a reason why nowadays most cultures opt for utilising cultivated crops like grains and legumes instead of using low yield giving nuts and seeds. (Also, we really need those acorns as food for wild animals and for reforestation!) Cultivation of plants is a huge game changer for human life quality and communal living. It’s really cool. But it does require more cooperative systems of labour since harvesting and processing plants like grain requires sharing of work, space to do it, and natural weather & ground conditions to grow. Plus the grain in itself needs to be cultivated first. And these amazing food sources can be exploited by having control over places in which one can grow certain high yielding crops which can trigger war and oppression. Most noticeably in the Central and Eastern European region, which is obviously what I write about a lot, this is the case with Ukraine. This now independent country has good climate and ground conditions, yielding great harvests of wheat grain and sunflower, leading to the region being dubbed the Granary of Europe. Ukraine was fought over not just today but also occupied in historical moments like WW2 by the Nazis or under the Russian Empire precisely to have access to these high yielding conditions. So, food and where food comes from, is an important angle to understand plenty of conflicts, imperial oppression and cultures. I invite you to read more about the history of grain, why Ukraine has a flag literally depicting a grain filed under the blue sky or maybe learning how to make bread yourself. To return to my point: Bride lives in an area which has seasons. However, the climate is cooler with lots of swamps and waters around. The forest takes most of the shore space in her immediate vicinity. She has a garden in which she (tries to) grow buckwheat, a very climate-resistant pseudo grain. And technically she owns fields, but has no way to work them on her own due to the lack of manpower, possible lack of seeds, as well as timing issues for the sowing. But common grains like wheat require a warm and steady dry climate which is not the case here. Other grains like rye are historically common in Central and Eastern Europe, however one needs to plant them first and after the harvest it still requires labour to dry and deshell the rye first, a luxury that Bride does not have because she has been on her own for most of the year. So, to finish this long excursion on grains and flours - she uses acorn flour for bread because she was isolated and on her own. Also, agriculture is really cool and maybe you will think about the amount of labour, logistics, politics and historical development when biting into something flour based.

Vodyanitza is just the female version of Vodynoy

Rubacha is the name of the traditional linen shirt worn by historically both men and women but nowadays mostly associated with male clothing traditions. This shirt is often loosely fitted and bound at the hip with a belt. Having embroidery, especially red embroidery on a Rubacha is very common as red natural dye was widely available in the region. The embroidery and introduction of other colours is dependent on the exact time and place a Rubacha comes from. Even nowadays the Rubacha is part of plenty of Eastern European traditional dresses.

Quick reminder: a Tschort is a type of evil spirit.

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