#she is the coolest woman in the world............ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iliverae · 10 days

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00. THE COOLEST IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD

SYNOPSIS — You don't know anything about soccer, but you do know Sae Itoshi. He's pretty cool. His brother thinks so you're pretty cool too.

note: first post!!! hi guys im iliverae bel !!! omg !!! anyways i miss the itoshi siblings so much hguuhu why wont they be happy

wc ; 2.2 k

"Mama... I don't want to." With your mother's larger hand gripped tightly in your own, tinier one, you tug on her pointer finger with a chubby pout. She looks down at you, age 5, with a smile, pinching your palm lightly.

"It'll do you good to have some friends, baby. Just spend some time with him."

You look down, cheeks puffed out and feeling frustration well up in your small, childish mind. You didn't want to! You wanted to go home and play with your dolls, not spend time with a stupid, probably stinky boy.

Your other friend, who was a nice girl, told you that guys have a weird sickness that makes everything they touch stinky, so you were a little scared.

You stand in front of the door, a little over triple the size you were, behind your mother's legs and still holding tightly onto her hand. Your tiny heart races in your chest when the door suddenly swings open, and there stands another woman. She's the same giant height as your mom, with pretty teal eyes and dark hair.

The thing that catches your eyes, however, is the thing standing behind her. Around your height—maybe a little smaller, Sae was always a small kid—and holding onto a weird checkered ball tightly in his arms. He didn't look the least bit embarrassed to see you, only looking up at the conversation the adults were taking part in and pretending to listen.

"Right!" The other woman smiles and her hand falls on top of the red head of hair. "Sae really wanted somebody to play with, since little Rin is far too small to even think about holding a soccer ball, haha. It'll be nice to sit down for a while and chat instead of running around outside kicking a ball around."

"Oh no, I get that," Your mom laughs, and you step out from behind the wall of her legs and tug her shorts when she speaks again, hand atop your hair, "Our tea parties are very eventful, but maybe some sport wouldn't do too badly."

Sport? Tea parties? You wanted to have a tea party, but not with this weird boy, who was now kicking that ball up and down leisurely.

"Sae!" The call of that name—it's probably his—catches the boy's attention, and he looks up at his mom, big eyes blinking. She looks down at him fondly, "Will you take [name] outside? Be nice to her, and don't play too rough. If she doesn't want to play soccer, don't force her."

He blinks silently a little longer, before he looks down—at you—and then back to his mother and he nods. She smiles, patting his head before bending down and smooching a kiss on his forehead, "Thank you."

He scrunches his little nose up and starts wiping the place where his mother kissed with pink cheeks, face all puffed up and chubby-and you giggle.

You didn't smell anything too bad. Actually, his house smelt like lavender and jasmine. It was nice. Maybe your friend was wrong.

Your little fit of giggles catches Sae's attention, and he looks over at you—where you were moving away from your mother with a little bit of encouragement from her—you stand in front of Sae, clad in your pink stripey dress with white stockings-you smile at him, toothy and cute.

"Go on," his mother steps out of the doorway, and Sae turns around, looking over his shoulder at you.

"Follow me." He says, speaking for the first time you've ever heard. His voice sounds much different from those of your girlfriends, but it's not deep by any means. It's actually squeaky. You comply and as he rushes down the hallway with pitter-patter steps, you, in your tiny Mary Jane's, follow.

You don't even glance back at your mother as she smiles when you're rushing behind the smaller Sae Itoshi.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

You follow the redhead, right up until he leads you outside (with much struggle opening the screen door—he was about to burst into tears until his mother rushed over and opened it for him), where you two stand in the warm sunlight.

You two rush past some garden beds filled with all sorts of vibrant flowers, various pots and gnomes, and even an outdoor lounge set until you're both on a large, green field. Two goalposts on either side were already set up—tiny goalposts, fit for somebody of your size.

"What's soccer?" You ask with your head tilted and tiny pigtails on either side of your head moving with you.

Sae furrows his little, red brows and his teal eyes squint angrily, "How do you not know what soccer is?! It's the best sport in the whole wide world!" With his brash tone and squished up, frustrated little face—it would've been more believable if you'd just told him he was a "poopy-head" rather than this.

"I don't play sport," You frown, shuffling your feet on the grass. "I like playing with my dolls."

"Dolls are boring," He kicks the soccer ball up and balances it on his toes. You're impressed by this show, but you can't let him see (lest his pouty expression grow coy), only turning your head and glancing subtly.

"Nuh-uh! They're so fun! I bet soccer is super boring!" You stick your tongue out at him. He huffs, catching the soccer ball and holding it under his arm. Sae seems to take heavy offence to your statement, cheeks puffed out, baby fat accentuating his cute, child-like features.

"That's not true!" His voice makes you jump a little, and he moves closer to you, looking directly into your eyes. "If you play it, you'll totally see it's not boring at all!"

"I dun' wanna." You shake your head, crossing your arms. "You said dolls were boring."

Sae frowns, looking down. He grabs his chubby hands together and fiddles with his fingers. "Fine... Dolls aren't that boring. I'll play dolls with you later if you play soccer wit' me now."

Your eyes light up and you smile wide, toothy and excited, "Okay! You have to promise to do a tea party with me!"

Sae looks embarrassed at the prospect, turning around and rushing after the soccer ball as he calls out, "Fine! But you needa play with me!"

"Okay!" You rush over to where he stands, in the middle of the field with the soccer ball on a white circle. "What do I do?!"

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

Your little foot misses the ball completely, and you slip, falling onto your butt on the grass. You let out a shrill scream of frustration, eyes narrowing at the ball and you glare, "Soccer sucks!"

Sae glares at you from where he stands in front of the goal, on the small field, he runs over quickly to where you planted yourself on the grass, "Hey! You're just bad at it!"

You huff, folding your arms over your chest and shuffle around with your legs so you're not facing him, "No! This game is just the worst!"

"No, look." He runs over to the goal you're facing, the ball in tow in front of him, and he kicks it with the side of his shoe, and it flies into the goal. You watch with wide, starry eyes at his goal—you're sure it is the most amazing thing you have ever seen.

"Woah... cool..."

He turns around, hands on his hips proudly and chest puffed up, cheeks pink with your praise, "Cool, right?! Soccer is super cool. You're just not cool enough for it yet."

You stand up, tiny hands balled into fists in front of you while you defend yourself, "What?! I'm cool!"

"Then you should get good at soccer, cuz then, you'll be the coolest." He pokes his nose up in the air, eyes shut closed. "Like me."

Sae Itoshi is undeniably cocky and perhaps, even at the ripe age of 5, he is too egotistical for his own good. You are completely and utterly aware of this fact. Even so, when you stare at him, you can't seem to pull your little eyes away.

You look at where the sun shines from behind his head—even though he's wearing a stupid Transformers t-shirt, and his bangs are choppy and frankly, really ugly, you look at his chubby face, and you believe him.

Your eyes sparkle, and your cheeks grow pink.

That was the day you realised Sae Itoshi was the coolest in the whole entire world.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

From the safe cradle of his mother's arms, Rin wordlessly and mindlessly wakes up from his nap, eyes opening slowly. He's yawning, and the two mothers are fawning over his cuteness. It's not every day Rin gets to sit in his mother's grasp like this, because of how Sae is always stealing her away to play some sport with him, but it's not like Rin holds any contempt towards his older brother for it.

He loves his older brother—and that's why he wonders what's so different about today. Sae spends every waking moment playing this sport, soccer, and every chance he gets, he asks their parents to play with him. When his father was home, he would ask him. When he wasn't, he would ask their mom.

Their father was at work right now—so why hadn't Sae come running up to ask? This is what makes Rin start squirming in his mom's grasp and reaching his hands out in the direction of the screen door, crawling across the couch towards it when she lets him go.

"Do you wanna go outside, Rinnie?" His mother asks him sweetly, looking down at her two-year-old son. "You can play with your big brother if you ask him nicely."

Rin can talk, easily, but all he does is make a muffled "mm" sound (you know the one that babies make) before getting up off his knees and rushing outside, feet only clad in socks as he runs on the concrete.

He only stops when he's right on the edge—a step forward would plant him on green grass. He looks up and sees his older brother rushing after a girl, who he has never seen before. With frilly socks and black leather shoes, a flowy pink dress and a pretty ribbon in your hair—the way you twinkle in the sunlight—Rin thinks you must be the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

You slam the tip of your shoe into the ball, and it goes flying into the goal before Sae even has a chance to stop it—and you cheer. You raise your fists into the air and giggle, jumping up and down with excitement. Your hair flutters alongside you with your movements, "Sae! Sae! Look! I did it! I got the ball in! I'm so cool!"

He pouts, crossing his arms and looking away, "It wasn't that cool..." But with his tone—it's easy to sense the jealousy. Rin sees you wrap your arms around his older brother in a tight hug from the side—you only giggle when he tries to push your face back, away from his.

You both look excited... Rin wants to celebrate with you two as well. He ignores the prickle of grass under his grey socks and rushes over—tiny steps making a little pitter-patter sound until he stands in front of you and Sae. He looks up, eyes wide and sparkly, and the laughing in your mouth dies down at the sight of the little child in front of you.

Your arms are still wrapped around Sae's shoulders—you look at him and ask, "Is this your brother?"

Sae groans, obviously annoyed and he looks away, "Ugh... Rin, get off the field."

Not understanding Sae's words, he keeps blinking wordlessly up at you two. Rin tilts his head to the side and clutches the bottom of his blue hoodie. Sae keeps glaring at him, arms crossed. "Rin, go away. You can't play with us."

You remove yourself from Sae and give him a look—especially when the words start sinking into Rin and his eyes grow glassy and wobble, "Hey! Why not?!"

"Cuz he's a baby! I dun wanna play with babies," Sae huffs, turning his head away. Rin starts wailing at his words, tears running down his cheeks and dripping onto the grass below. The elder Itoshi rolls his eyes and turns away, stomping towards the forgotten ball. "See, he's crying!"

"He's crying cuz you're mean!" You glare at the older brother, then look down towards Rin, who's still sobbing, but quietly now. He looks so much like your younger cousin, who you spend so much time with at family get-togethers, that you can't help but lean down and wrap your arms around him. "Dun worry... Sae's a big fat jerkface. He's a huge meanie pants."

Your voice is a low whisper, and Rin grips the back of your dress with even tinier hands. Rin sniffles and the tears slowly stop pouring down his cheeks at your comfort. His lips tremble and he looks up at you, tears clumping his long lashes together and glittering in the sun, "R... really?"

"Yeah!" You pull away, taking your comfort with you—you don't see how Rin makes a gurgled baby noise and grabby hands at you—and place your hands on your hips. "I bet you could be a really cool soccer player too! Like me! I'mma convince Sae to let you play, promise!"

You giggle, jotting your thumb towards yourself.

Rin looks up at you, big blue eyes sparkling from the sunlight that you emit, and the way your hair flutters behind you in the soft wind. His cheeks are puffed out and his hands are clutching the ends of his blue hoodie when he stares.

His eyes are sparkling, and his cheeks grow pink.

That was the day Rin Itoshi realised that you were the coolest in the whole entire world.

#blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #itoshi sae #sae itoshi #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae x reader #blue lock fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock x you #bllk x you #*ೃ༄ bel's notes !

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mothusband · 2 years

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my flaw is one person is nice to me once and then i think about them forever and ever and ever and cry

#thinking about my driving instructor from back in april. nicest and coolest christian woman i have ever met.#she was so sweet to us and went on this big rant about acceptance at kne point which made me feel really safe #she wouldnt get upset if we missed a turn or made a little mistake or anything which was almost enough to make me cry while driving w her #nicest person ever and such a ripoff that i only got to know her for 6 hours. if everyone was that nice the world would be better.

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stem-sister-scuffle · 17 days

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STEM SISTER SCUFFLE: ROUND 3 MASHUP 4

Jade Harley (Homestuck) vs Entrapta Princess of Dryl (Netflix She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)

Jade Harley is a Nuclear Physicist, Roboticist, Ectobiologist, and Cosmic Manipulator (warping space and planets)!

Entrapta Princess of Dryl is a Roboticist, Programmer and First Ones' Tech Historian/Archaeologist!

Why you should vote for each contestant:

Jade Harley:

"She's soo fun and silly and her symbol is literally an atom. she regularly irradiates steak to feed her weird dog"

"She and her nuclear powered dog creating a new universe. she's cool"

"Built a modded bass guitar that's only playable when she's in her robot form and has extra arms. Became a doggirl. She also plays the flute :)"

"i think you have enough ramblings about her already but i couldnt NOT submit her, she is so dear to me <3"

"bbg has THREE scientific specialties!! she genetically modifies plants and makes them grow beautifully high just because she can and loves science. in her alpha timeline she’s a tech mogul and creates technology that challenges the evil empress that brought earth to ruin. AND she’s a furry"

"Doggy"

"She plays a silly flute refrain. She's a furry. Literally, she's a doggirl. She's also a god and created the universe. JADE BEST GIRLIE!!!!"

Entrapta Princess of Dryl:

"She builds robots!!! She's curious and inquisitive!! She loves her robots!! She has the coolest hair and also I want to be her bestie. She's an absolute love"

"autism :)"

"Builds robots and computers for fun and companionship. Can take apart and understand almost any tech she is presented with. Autism lever set to max and I love her. Mandatory boob window in all her outfits and I've never related harder to a character."

"autistic icon, amazing inventor and app round excellent character"

"she has prehensile hair it’s literally the best thing i’ve ever seen in my life, it’s never once acknowledged by any of the characters as abnormal or explained in any way i’m literally obsessed with it. also autism queen"

"PIGTAILS!!!! autism"

"Entrapta is very bubbly and positive. She never lets anything like losing her friends or going to the bad side or getting put on a death-sentence island stop her from scientific pursuits! She actually drives a lot of the conflict in the story, as she explains the technological backstory of the world, and helps both sides be better at fighting. She loves data, doing experiments, and the scientific method. She's also in love with space. She is an autistic queen <3"

"phenomenal canon autism representation without being weird & shitty. also she’s so strange & wonderful & relatable in so so many ways. my computer is named Darla bc that’s what she named the AI for the spaceship in s5"

"She is THE science queen because she loves science so much and her love of it is INFECTIOUS. I don’t know anything about science but Entrapta makes it seem like the coolest thing in the universe. I love her"

"She ourple. I luv her"

"She's so passionate about her work. Takes through notes! Figured out how to hack her home planet!!! She's autistic as hell and I like her overalls."

"You won’t get autism like this anywhere else bestie"

"amoral mad scientist who flips between the good guys and bad guys, loves building so many inventions, ends up converting the head bad guy (for most of the series) to good through the power of love"

"She has outfitted her entire castle to be a maze, and installed electronic locks on some. Her staff seems to be mostly robots she has built herself. In good part reverse engineering or adapting ancient tech found on the planet. She's incredible at what she does and personally fixes, invents and builds a wide range of stuff from space ships to portals to a prosthetic exoskeleton to trackers to war machines. She can do it all. Autism win! Girlie has been criticised for being treated childlike or being unable to understand those around her to a ridiculous degree, but I'm honestly just glad she's not a Sheldon Cooper. Her favorite bots have personalities and therefore implied AI (but not the shitty kind), which means she's pretty fucking good at software too. She likes tiny foods."

"So very autistic about technology. Initially believes robots are way better than people, eventually makes human friends but also very much still has robot friends (I love Emily so much). Gets so excited about finding new First One's tech. Also her happy spinning around in a space suit in that one season 5 episode heals my heart every time I watch it"

"She's the planet's leading expert on ancient tech (sci-fi/fantasy universe) and develops most of the tech in the show and is very autistic about it. i love her"

"She is fun and funky. Chaotic neutral. Definitely some autism coding going on, which is very charming. She has a pet robot? It is cute"

"Bc she is ENTRAPTA!! No srsly she is such a well-written character. At times kinda morally grey but always lovable and great and she is truly amazing at what she does!! I'm pretty sure she's already been submitted but I wanted to make sure :)"

#stem sister scuffle #round 3 #homestuck #homestuck jade #hs jade #jade harley #netflix she ra #she ra #she ra and the princesses of power #spop #spop entrapta #entrapta

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sweaterkittensahoy · 3 months

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Saw a post somewhere in the Masters of the Air tags that said Bucky Egan is Lewis Nixon if Lewis Nixon gave into his impulses, and I need to respectfully disagree.

Bucky Egan is--to use some broad terms--young, dumb, and full of come. He's not stupid. He's just 25-ish with strict ideas about what it means to be an American (he enlisted when the war broke out, not after Pearl Harbor; which is some truly Wisconsin shit), and he wants to be the coolest, hippest cat in the room (his vernacular is based on loving media about mobsters and trying to emulate them). He drinks and fucks and parties because those are things that the characters in his favorite books do. And those are things he WANTS to do. Because he's 25 and can work the Clark Gable 'stache. In episode 4, when he sits vulnerably naked in front of that big picture window in his hotel room, having bedded a woman with a dark past (again, see his love of mobster stories; she's a femme fatale in his mind), he is shattered at watching the bombs drop on London. He'd known it was happening. But to see it. It's seeing the truth of it. Understanding that he, as a pilot, knows the level of destruction being attempted, and being able to accurately guess how well it went.

There's a moment where Paulina asks why he's all the way out in Hammersmith. It's clearly not central London. When he watches the bombs, they're not close by. But then he's walking down the street in his pilot's uniform in a generally intact suburb. But someone did get hit. One person DID get hit. And she cries and screams for someone whom she can't decide is alive or dead.

That's Bucky's own thoughts about Curt. That's Bucky's own thoughts about the men who flew the day before. That's Bucky's own thoughts about every man in every fort that went down. They're alive. No, they're dead. No, they're alive. No, they're dead.

What we're seeing by the end of episode 4, is Bucky faced with the unrelenting truth of death in war in a way he hid from himself in so many ways for so long. Partly by fucking and drinking and partying.

The difference between Bucky Egan and Lewis Nixon is that Lewis Nixon went into the war believing everything was shit. And he drank his way through the war because everything was shit. And he made a truly heroic attempt to blow up his friendship with Dick because everything was shit.

Lewis Nixon, if being allowed to give into his impulses, would have drank himself to death during the war. I believe that completely. Fuck, we know he had a hard time for several years after.

Bucky Egan, until he sees the bombing in London for himself after one of his closest friends has disappeared in battle (Curt) and another close friend (Buck) goes up without him, he doesn't let the war touch him. He doesn't let the WORLD touch him.

Bucky Egan drinks and fucks and parties because he LIKES IT. And he wants to keep it up because if he can keep it up, things can't be that bad.

But they are that bad.

Meanwhile, Buck Cleven is NOT Dick Winters. He doesn't drink. He doesn't gamble. He doesn't fuck. Sure. But Dick Winters didn't do those things because he was raised in a family where those things were held up as signs of moral fortitude and self-discipline. Buck Cleven doesn't do them because his abusive father did them all and into severe excess.

But Dick Winters would NEVER slow dance with a big dog to make his best friend laugh, and Buck Cleven would. Neither Dick Winters nor Buck Cleven would ever back out of a fight, but Dick Winters would never shame a man for being scared while Buck Cleven did. And rightly fucking so, frankly.

What's so interesting to Bucky and Buck is that "two randos with very different views of the world became the closest of friends" ALSO happened in Band of Brothers (and, in fact, in Generation Kill between Ray and Brad [a reminder I haven't seen the Pacific), and it speaks to how friendship bonds form differently in different situations but there seems to be some proof that people with opposite experiences in life can find common ground with a common goal between them.

#bucky egan #buck cleven #masters of the air #band of brothers #dick winters #lewis nixon #just meta thoughts

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luffyvace · 1 month

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HEYYYY!! how are you?? i hope you’re doing well ❤️❤️

i was wondering if you could do a headcanon/story where reader is like the daughter of Dracule Mihawk but like she(or gender neutral) never met her mom, so when she was growing up Boa Hancock was like their cool auntie that she learned how to be a woman (doing makeup,painting nails, finding her style ect.)

ONLY IF YOU ARE COMFORTABLE THO, BTW I LOVEE YOUR WRITING 💕💕

HIII IM DOING GOOD ANON!! You dear? :)

i do female reader dw!! I’ll be using she/her as well, for reference

Awhh dadhawk <33

AUNTBOAAUNTBOAAUNTBOAAA!! She’d be the BEST most SPOILING wine aunt EVER🍷💄

Of course it’s alright honey! Alsooo TYSM!! I’m so glad you enjoy 😭💓💓

Being mihawk’s daughter has a lot of perks and literally no down slides. actually I half way take that back. The only down slide is that there’s a target on your head for those who are crazy enough to come for you. But that’s like a mere 00.1% and even then just because they come for you doesn’t mean they’ll get to you 🤡

especially since your the NUMBER ONE swordsman’s daughter.

Also this is really random but you probably meet zoro eventually, perona as well, they obviously stay with you for some time so perona and you likely get close. I imagine you would introduce her to boa and the three of you become a trio. You and Perona are her adorable nieces and boa is your doting, beautiful and totally awesome auntie :3

don’t get me wrong mihawk is a awesome father. He seems like a very responsible man and that he would not leave you out in the cold at the cost of his own life. He spoils you just as equally as boa does and although he’s not the most trusting man on earth, he wouldn’t dare break the bond you two have when he can’t replace it with your actual mother. At this point not that you wanted to.

Never meeting your mom may have taken a toll on your mental health at first, but not to worry! Awesome aunt boa to the rescue!!

The chances of you meeting boa we’re actually very slim, whether you know it or not. As I said Mihawk doesn’t easily trust plus you probably met at a warlord meeting where he has to take you along for one reason or another.

You saw boa and naturally, thought she was very pretty. Mihawk is rather reserved too so you probably don’t see people often in general (til you get older). Therefore, seeing such a ethereal woman made you instantly admire her. You immediately wanted to get to know her—and, luckily for you, she took an interest in the girl who’s mihawk’s daughter!

now idk what you did but she started the conversation, and whatever you replied made her think you weren’t so bad! You two chatted some more and after figuring out you had no mother figure she took it upon herself to raise a cute girl such as yourself to be a good woman. She didn’t exactly want to be viewed as your mother..that would relate her too closely to mihawk, a man, for her liking. So! She’ll be the cool and classy wine aunt instead! 🍷💋

you love your dad, he does his best to raise you as a single father and pirate/warlord/worlds best swordsman. And you truly do appreciate him! But when Boa bashes him for being a man her insults are low key so funny you can’t help but laugh 🗿 (hc that Boa would be good at roasting people on the spot :3)

boa being the coolest aunt she is, she takes you to lavish places (that she rented so she wouldn’t have to bear being in the presence of those indisputable critters society calls men), gets you the most high quality makeup (that her tribe handcrafts—yes they make they’re own it’s a hc of mine), does monthly over the phone (in person when you can) mental check ins (because you love your dad but again, he’s a man, and there’s some things about women men won’t get—vice versa too of course <3)

womanly hour!~ well more like hours, you spend the whole day with boa whenever you can, she’s makes a magnificent aunt and literally never says no to you. She’s like to you how she is to luffy but less delusional platonic <3 you two go shopping and pick out clothes together, her tribe of course also gifts you all the cute clothes you could ever want (again, handcrafted) because boa adores you and they adore boa!—which means they adore you! 💕 You and the Kuja 100% get along and see eye to eye on how spectacular Hancock-Sama is~ 🥰

when your older you probably go over to visit her more often and maybe even on your own! Mihawk trusts that by then he’s trained you enough, plus i think he would have his certain set of rules but not be too strict of a dad.

teaching you how to be a proper woman with Boa 101 ;} only if you want to tho! She’ll ensure your not out here acting like some monkey—surely your not! (unless you are 🤷‍♀️) Still, she teaches you basic lady manners. :) More than anything she knows women is NOT the problem, so instead of going “keep your legs closed ☝️🤓” she says “If a man looks at you lower than your stomach, kick him in that area 😉😘” - Boa Hancock (the woman we trust💪)

AND you already know she’s gonna teach you how to kick as hard a she can 😤😮‍💨👌 which ngl by the time your older your sure to be a master in many Haki’s. You may even have conquer’s 🤷‍♀️ I wouldn’t doubt it you got Mihawk blood in you :P

Growing up Boa has constantly been warning you of men and they’re vile ways. When you become of age she’ll tell you what happened to her (that’s how much she trusts you 💗💗) and you’ll know what she means right away. She will always look out for you but gives you tips on things just in case, and if you ever feel unsafe, don’t hesitate to call her or take a trip to the island of women! The entirety of the Kuja tribe will lay down they’re lives in an instant for Hancock-sama’s lovable little niece <33

I’ve been mentioning this throughout but her taking you to the island of women definitely happens. You love it there and everyone loves you. You have so many Aunts and sisters there it’s not even funny. 😃 You adore each and everyone of them though, just as they do you. You get only the finest of treatment from them and you might as well be one of the Boa sisters. You get all you can eat premium food, the most elegant clothes tailored to your exact size and tastes, you even have your very OWN room in the Palace! Sandersonia and Marigold dote on you just as much as Hancock does the four of you very much do spend a lot of time together. 😊

The Boa sisters/the Kuja tribe teaches you the kuja tribe/survival skills personally. They start with bow and arrow and eventually moving on to haki and hand to hand combat. Now, Mihawk might have already covered this but they’re going over it again 😄 why? He might’ve missed something! He’s a man! (Btw the Kuja girls 100% ask you questions about men no holding back) Anywho, I’m sure you’d do it again even if you know it already because 1) practice 😋 and 2) who wouldn’t want to spend more time with the Kuja pirates?!

💖💖

These girls are seriously awesome 💓 (this low key became a Mihawk diss track written by Hancock but he’ll live- LOL 😂😂🗿)

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sweatervest-obsessed · 4 months

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hiii!! congrats on the 500 followers 🤍 for your celebration, could i request 7 and 13 from the fluff prompts for spencer reid? thanks :]

I giggled when I read this request ABSOLUTELY.

7. Softly smiling at each other across the room; 13. Playing with the other’s fingers

“I will be right back” You kissed Spencer’s hand.

He smiled and nodded at you as you grabbed two champagne flutes off of a tray from a waiter, and headed across the room.

Today, you were receiving an award in recognition for all of your hard work on your research. It’s was a huge opportunity for you since it came with a research grant for you to continue your work.

Spencer could not be more proud of you. He told everyone in his line of sight about you and your accomplishment. The Team would have been fed up with hearing about you if they weren’t just as proud of you.

You had seen one of the benefactors enter with her wife, and wanted to be one of the first ones to greet her, thanking her for her generosity and belief in your work.

Spencer was barely barely pretending to listen to what Emily was telling Rossi, his focus trained on you across the room.

Feeling Spencer’s eyes on you, you briefly looked over the shoulder of the woman you were talking to and met his eyes. Spencer watched as your whole body relaxed slightly under his gaze.

He sent you a quick wink which caused the corners of your mouth to twitch with joy. The Butterflies in your stomach fluttered around.

“You two are so adorable it makes me sick”

Spencer snapped his head back to Emily and Rossi, rolling his eyes. “Thanks Em.”

The three of them laughed softly together.

“Seriously Reid. Where did you find this woman. She’s smart. She’s funny. And she’s intellectual?”

“Ha ha.” Spencer looked back over at you, only to find your eyes on him. You blushed slightly at getting caught and turned back to your own conversation. “But honestly, I have no idea. She is literally the coolest person I know—“

“Hey!”

Spencer laughed slightly at Emily’s objection. “It’s true.”

Just then Spencer felt a hand on his back. He knew your touch better than he knew himself.

“What’s true?”

“Just how incredible you are.” He turned to face you, that bright smile of his coming back to his face.

You smiled warmly at the pair he was standing with. “I really appreciate you all coming, it means a great deal to me.”

Rossi took your hand in both of his and kissed it. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“You’re too kind Dave.” You were over come with joy, knowing that you were surrounded by people who cared about you. “Honestly, I’m just glad some psycho-socio-serial-whatever didn’t make you guys fly across the country.”

Just as Emily was about to make a snarky comment about how they would have fought tooth and nail to be at your event, the lights flashed and one of the presenters ‘kind requested everyone made their way to their seats’.

Luckily for you, your table was front and center, one of your least favorite places to be. Spencer was seated to your right, which was helpful since it meant you had to pass him on the way to the stairs to the stage.

He gently placed a hand on your thigh, which was bouncing with nerves and anxieties. It was hard enough to be confident about your work, but hearing someone else describe you and then praise you as an introduction felt a bit much.

But all of those nerves went away when you felt his touch. You quickly slid your hand into his, eyes still focused on the speaker at the podium.

Your other hand quickly found its way to his, and started twisting the band on his ring finger absent mindedly. At least you weren’t causing an earthquake with this habit.

Spencer loved when you fiddled with his ring or his hands. He loved the way you constantly needed to be in contact with him.

Now your fascination with his hands has a myriad of reasons behind it, including ones only said aloud during girls nights with lots of wine. But you loved how soft they were. You’d expect them to be riddled with paper cuts and scars and bruises, rough from handling guns or handcuffs or dropping to the ground more times then he’d ever tell you.

But his hands were the hands of a lover, not a fighter. And it brought you so much peace, just twisting his wedding band, and absentmindedly playing with his fingers.

You only dropped his hand when they called your name.

You immediately picked it up the second you sat back down from your speech, fingers intertwined with his.

#x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fanfiction

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tipsyleaf · 12 days

Note

Violet would bring Leon to her show and tell day at school, practically bragging about how her daddy’s was a high government official. She’d give a brief description of his job, all while little ‘Wow!’ And ‘Ooo’s!’ Echoed throughout the classroom.

Everyone found it cool—especially the boys. They’d ask him questions, he’d show his cool little DSO badge, tell them stories that won’t traumatize a set of 7/8 year olds. The boys in the class would obviously ask if he has a gun, he just laughs it off and says ‘Maybe.’

After that day; all of her classmates were convinced that she had the coolest daddy in the world.

- Anon! 🎀

(P.S. Love you too pookie <3)

Also, all the kids ask if he has a cruiser like a cop does to which he just responds "No, but I do drive a motorcycle."

Insert room full of gasps here

Violet has kids begging to be invited to her house for playdates constantly and kids fighting over party invites for birthdays, sleepovers or just little get togethers.

But that's when Leon and her mom have to sit her down and talk about what real friends are like because some kids are mean. Very mean...

I'd imagine some kid in her class would start picking on her out of jealousy from so many people thinking her dad is cool. And wanting to be her friend.

This kid... He's a massive asshole for a 7-8 year old.

Now Leon is a pretty docile parent. Would much rather sit down and talk it out with the kids parents but his wife.... Mama bear. Do. No. FUCK. With her family...

Has definitely had Leon had to drag her away at PTA meetings or school functions to not fight this kids dad. She doesn't give a shit if he's a grown man or twice her size. She's not scared to fight a man.

As often as Leon has had to haul his wife away he still appreciates her being a strong woman. This is the kind of woman he wants their daughters to become. People who defend others and fight for their beliefs. Even if he can't always do that himself he values those who do.

It's part of the reason why he fell in love with you in the first place. (I'm gonna make myself cry...)

Eventually this kid becomes a nuisance and Violet gets permission to tell this kid off without censoring herself. And my God does that little lady have a mouth on her...

A WEEKS WORTH OF DETENTION!

But her parents fight with the school to get it off her record because the kid comes clean about being a little dick.

When Violet got home and told her parents what happened they both make sure she knows she did the right thing. Reassure her and reward her for sticking up for herself by taking her and baby Cecilia for ice cream. And she gets a toy.

They honestly can't not spoil her...

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy #🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #🌿 ivy replies #🌿 ivy writes

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

Text

Apothecary - Chapter Five

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

she and joel try to figure out their new normal. will her upside-down world be too much for him to handle?

warnings | 18+ smut-adjacent, significant angst, mentions of pregnancy (not what you think), feelings

word count (since someone asked lmao): 5.8K

a/n | we are entering turbulent waters, my darlings. but remember, i promised you a happy ending, and a happy ending you shall get. just, not yet. as always, i love to hear from you about what you think of the chapter, drop me a message and let's chat <3

.........................................

“Dead man walking at three o’clock, boys.” “Watch out, whatever she’s got working on Miller might rub off on you if you get too close to him.”

“Just a matter of time now, don’t you think?” “Better him than me. I like coming home alive, thank you very much. Miller can have her.”

The folks talking at the stables are lucky that Joel couldn’t give less of a fuck about what they have to say. He’s got better things to focus on. As the summer has slipped into those long languid days before the first snaps of fall, it’s become common knowledge around town that Joel Miller is the witch’s man. And he couldn’t be more pleased about it.

The men place wagers on when he’ll wind up dead, and the women, well, they’ve got a different look in their eyes when he comes around now that he’s so clearly caught the attention of the resident witch. But it’s all just noise to Joel, who is completely and unequivocally wrapped up in his woman.

Tommy has cut down his patrol shifts, and Joel knows it’s because of his brother’s own little superstitious streak, though he’d never admit it to him. But Joel doesn’t mind spending more time working the stables, not when she comes around at midday in between her rounds, sharing her lunch with him, and a little sweetness, before bounding off to wherever she’s needed next.

He’s learning more about her everyday. What’s true, and what’s baseless rumor. Just the other day, he had witnessed for himself her strange communication with animals when she had calmed a bolting horse with a light palm and a few murmured words, the mare tilting its head at her like it was listening to what she had to say. When she had turned back around to Joel after leading the horse into the stables, she offered him a smile and a shrug. Another truth.

They’ve made a little routine around each other, something he didn’t think he’d ever get again in this world, and he fucking adores it. Today is no different, when the sun starts to drip low in the sky and he’s finally finished shoeing a particularly skittish horse, he heads off from the stables toward her shop to pick up his girls. That’s the other thing, she looks out for Ellie, and Ellie thinks she’s “the fucking coolest.” Joel can’t help but feel like he won the damn lottery every time he steps into her shop and finds them laughing and talking easily in the back.

“Wait, wait, I’ve got a good one for you today.”

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

“What do you call witches who live together?”

“I don’t know, tell me.”

“Broom-mates!”

“Kid, that one is bad, even for you.” Both she and Ellie whip around from where they had been chatting in the backroom of her shop when they hear his grumbled words. Ellie scoffs.

“What? It’s topical.” She snorts at Ellie’s response, nudging her as she wipes her hands off on a rag.

“It was ok. A little culturally insensitive though. That whole riding around on brooms thing is a total myth.” Ellie’s eyebrows shoot up her forehead at that, and she laughs at the girl’s expression, stepping around her to pad over to Joel.

“Hey there, handsome. Quitting time?” It still catches him off guard sometimes, how easily she slips her arms over his shoulders, leaning in for a quick kiss, calling him handsome, though he can still hear Ellie making gagging noises over the ringing in his ears.

“Mmhmm, yep, yes ma’am. You ready to go?” She smiles, getting ready to answer him and being abruptly cut off by a sharp mroowww. He’s already expecting it, little paws clawing up his pants leg, a less welcomed development that has recently emerged as Stevie seems to take every chance she gets to make Joel her human scratching post. With a laugh, she scoops the mewling cat up in her arms, holding her out to Joel, though he swerves away slightly.

“Oh c’mon, Joel. Just give her a little pet. She’s trying to show you that she likes you.” He begrudgingly gives Stevie two curt pats on her head to which she lets out an indignant mrrp in response, yellow eyes squinting at him. No matter how many times she’s tried to convince him that Stevie likes him, Joel is still not sure what the cat thinks of him, or more importantly, what he thinks of her. There’s been a few times now when he has stumbled down stairs in the middle of the night to get a glass of water, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes, and he’s found the cat, frozen midstep, going god knows where out the backdoor. How Stevie got the door open in the first place is beyond him…

Ellie huffs from behind them, shuffling over and taking Stevie out of her arms, the feline immediately nuzzling up to her and purring like the most content engine ever.

“You can’t just bop her on the head like that, old man. Stevie likes a gentle touch.” She giggles at Ellie’s admonishment, her hand that had been resting on his chest coming up to scratch lightly at his scruff as he grumbles.

“Jesus christ, are y’all ready to go or not?”

They certainly make an odd little team walking down the main drag of Jackson, his arm slung over her shoulders, Ellie walking a bit ahead of them carrying Stevie like a baby. There are stares, of course, there always are, and even a loose whisper here and there as they make their way home. Or, he supposes, to his and Ellie’s home, though she spends most nights with him these days.

Pieces of her life have become permanent fixtures at the Miller residence, her “sensitive plants,” as she had called them, lining the windowsills downstairs, a few thick books of hers stacked on his nightstand, her overalls hanging off the corner of his bathroom door. He’d never admit it to anyone, but it actually makes him quite sentimental, these tangible reminders that he gets to call her his. Though there are always a few nights a week that she slips off by herself, going back to the shop or her own place after dinner. He tries not to think too hard about those times, and what she might be up to. After all, there are still a whole lot of things about her that he can’t quite believe, his mind playing catch-up with the strangeness of it all. But he reckons it’s worth it to get to have her like he does right now, an easy hand on her hip as they get dinner ready, Ellie rambling at the kitchen table about something Dina said earlier at school.

And while it feels so good, this routine they’ve slipped into, there’s always a twinge of guilt laced through when his mind wanders to the world just outside of Jackson’s gates, to his past, and the harsh dissonance between this present sweetness and that old pain. He had once asked Tommy about it, how he lives in this strange sliver of normal after the life they’ve known, and his brother had just shrugged and said that maybe it was exactly because of their past that they deserve whatever respite they can find now.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Her voice snaps him out of his mind, eyes focusing back on her sitting across from him at the table, dinner long finished and Ellie off wreaking havoc with the other Jackson teens. Don’t tell anyone, but Joel Miller has traded in his usual nightcap at the Tipsy Bison for a warm cup of whatever she steeps in a kettle on the stove. He doesn’t mind the taste, and it saves him a headache in the morning, and right now, the warmth from his mug anchors him just enough to ask her what’s been on his mind.

“Y’know, you never did tell me how you knew– about Sarah.” Her eyes soften around the edges, smile drooping just slightly.

“Well, I told you that I see the world in threads. The thread between you and Sarah– your daughter– it’s a particularly strong one.”

“Even though– even though she’s gone?”

“She isn’t gone, Joel, not really. I can feel her all around you.” His head spins with her words, tightness settling in his chest, and he doesn’t realize he had been clenching his fist until she reaches out for him, unfurling his fingers in her hand.

“Can you– could you– could you talk to her?” Her brows pinch, lips pressing into a thin frown at his question.

“I’m sorry, baby, I can’t. People– like me– we all have different talents. I had an aunt who’d have long conversations with her husband who had passed on– but that’s never been something I’m able to do.” He swallows hard, nodding, feeling a bit foolish for asking the question in the first place.

“But you said you can– feel her?” That brightens back her smile, and she squeezes his hand in hers.

“We’re all just energy. Even when we die, that can never be destroyed. So yes, I can feel her with you, and how much she loved– loves you.” It becomes too much for him all at once, the hot prick of tears behind his eyes spurring him to tug his hand out of hers. She says his name like a question, but he’s already stumbling out of his chair and toward the front door.

“Wait, Joel– just– where are you going?” It breaks his heart, the concern laced through her words, and when he turns to give her a response, his hand still on the doorknob, he can barely look at her.

“I’m sorry– I can’t– it’s just– I can’t– it’s too much– it’s all too much.” Perfect silence, she offers no reply to his words, and he doesn’t wait around to hear one, slipping out the front door and stumbling into the quickening night.

…

She fucked up, it becoming clear to her with the slam of his front door behind him. All she wanted was for him to have the truth, hoping that it could be a comfort to him. But obviously she had been mistaken in thinking that. He said that it was too much, but the implication of those words was apparent, that she’s too much. She knows better than to follow him, having figured enough out about Joel Miller to understand that any prodding will be unwelcomed, so she stands, feeling a bit helpless, in the middle of his living room. But then she starts looking around, seeing her plants everywhere, a few of her bracelets on the coffee table along with one of her books, knowing there’s more where that came from up in his bedroom, and she starts to think that she had come on too strong, that she was too much.

He was spooked by what she said, there were no two ways about it. She’d recognize that look in his eyes anywhere. She just hated that it had been in his eyes. Suddenly, she wants, needs, to get out of his house, and away from the deafening silence of being alone. She grabs her satchel, hastily shoving whatever odds and ends of herself strewn around his house that she can into her bag. She’s with it enough to lock the front door and slip out the back, figuring that wherever he went, he won’t be back for a while. The hot slip of tears comes before she can stop it, hurrying away from Joel’s house and toward her shop, intent on doing the one thing she knows will calm her mind.

…

He fucked up. He knew it the second he stepped out on his porch, and had even thought about turning back around right then, going back inside, trying to talk it out with her. But there was nothing to talk out, she’d done nothing wrong, he knew that. It had been such a jarring conversation for him, straddling the line between disbelief and something that touched a little too close to bone for his taste, and unable to stay up on the tightrope with her, he bolted.

The Tipsy Bison is quieter tonight, it being the middle of the week, but that’s a blessing to him, not wanting to run into anyone he knows while he tries to fuzz out his thoughts with booze. It plays over and over again in his mind.

I can feel her all around you.

Joel reckons that more than anything else, the feeling that had propelled him out of his house and away from her had been anger, that she can feel something he would give anything to feel himself. Very early on, he’d talk to Sarah, every night, asking her for signs. It had been in a fit of frustration when no signs ever came that he had pointed a gun at his temple and missed. So for her to so easily say that, to bridge that gap he had been clawing at for twenty years, it had set loose a dark mix of emotions he had been trying to stifle for a long time. And he believes her too, no matter how fantastical it seems. He knows that whatever she does choose to tell him, it’s always the truth, which only makes it sting worse.

He feels sick to his stomach after his first tumbler of whiskey, a gnawing pain he can’t shake, his mind replaying the glance he got of her face before he left, a crumpled look, something bordering on fear. And he suddenly has no interest in staying at the bar any longer, pushing away his glass and walking out onto the empty streets of Jackson, having stayed in there long enough for night to lay down heavy and cool over the town.

A pause, trying to get his bearings, to get out of his head, his eyes wander over the storefronts outside the Tipsy Bison, though it’s a figure emerging from between the shops that catches his attention.

“What’re you doing out here, trouble?”

meooowww

He shuffles across the street over to Stevie, meeting her in the alleyway she just sauntered out of. Bending at the waist, he offers out his palm, Stevie rubbing her cheek up against his fingers with a satisfied purr.

“Think I messed up a little.” Stevie lets out a mrow at that, and if she hadn’t been nuzzling at his palm, he would’ve sworn that she nodded her head at his words. Joel sighs, standing back upright, Stevie’s yellow eyes looking up at him, unblinking.

“Better go talk to her, huh?” This time, there’s no other explanation for the little bob of the cat’s head, and Joel has to let out a laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. Whatever this new normal is, ain’t nothing normal about it.

“Alright, trouble, you coming?” He gets no response, because, hello, it’s a cat. But when he starts walking, Stevie falls into step next to him.

The whole walk home, he’s so preoccupied with what he wants to say to her that he’s completely caught off guard when he goes to open the front door and finds it locked. Not a light is on inside, either, and he can’t help the frustration rising in his chest, Stevie starting to claw at his pants not helping one bit. She stops just as soon as she started, giving him an expectant look before turning around and padding down his porch steps. At his wit’s end, all Joel can think to do is follow the cat.

…

This is when she feels closest to her mother. Sweat pricking along her hairline, the sleeves of an old work shirt hiked up to her armpits, the backdoor to the shop cracked open to air out the fumes, and a bandana tied over the bridge of her nose, covering the lower half of her face as she works.

She’s had to make changes to the process in this new world. Where they used to buy lye from the local craft store, she now has to make it herself, leaching wood ash in barrels in the alley outside the shop. Where they used to use exotic oils like neem and jojoba, she now makes due with beeswax and sunflower seed oil. But she still stirs honey, mint, and lavender into the mix, the scent a pure dose of home for her.

Her eyes burn as she stirs, the sharp sting of vapors from the lye a welcome distraction from all the thoughts still winding around her mind. She’s done this a thousand times, moving with measured precision, the mixture swirling thick and black as she carefully ladles it into the wooden mold. They used to make huge batches every spring, rectangular molds the size of garden beds, and once the soap was set and cured, they’d slice it up into small blocks, enough for the year and then some. Now she only makes a little at a time, when she wishes more than anything she still had her mother with her, telling her what the next right step is.

She wipes away the cool drip of sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand, turning the stove off with a jerk of her chin. Some things never get old. But before she can take the now empty stock pot over to the sink, Stevie comes slinking in, nuzzling up against her ankles. She tugs her bandana down from her nose, letting it hang around her neck as she looks down at her girl.

“What’d you get into tonight, little miss?”

“She talked some sense into me.” Her head whips up at the sound of his voice, seeing Joel leaning against the backdoor frame. She can’t help but feel a bit exposed in her ratty attire, and she wonders how much he had seen. She’s never had anyone around when she’s done this before, and it feels like a vulnerability she wasn’t ready to extend to him.

She sniffs, squaring her shoulders and trying to seem unphased by his presence, willing her voice to come out steady.

“Oh?” She feels like she needs to swallow around something thick in her throat, words getting stuck somewhere in her chest.

“I’m sorry– that I just bolted. I wasn’t expecting that– what you said– and I reacted without much thought.” Her fingers itch with want, to reach for him, to thumb away the crease between his brows. But she resists it, staying where she is, her hands bunching into the fabric of her loose shirt instead.

“You don’t have to apologize, Joel. I’m the one who should be saying I’m sorry. You were right– it was too much, and I should have been able to see that. I’m sorry that I pressed too hard.” He kicks up off the doorframe, stepping into the shop, and immediately lets out a few harsh coughs, thumping his fist against his chest as he squints at her.

“Is there– a reason– my throat feels like– it’s on fire?” She curses low, quickly guiding him by the shoulders back out of the shop and into the alley.

“Fuck! I’m sorry! It’s the fumes from the lye. I guess I’m just used to it by now.” She rubs quick circles across his back as he continues to let out wheezy coughs, looking at her with wide eyes when he finally catches his breath.

“What the hell are you doing with lye, woman?” The harsh tone of his words makes her jerk back from him, stepping just out of reach as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“It’s for soap. That’s what I’m doing, making fucking soap. Not whatever all those people you talked to put into your head.” His face blanches in the moonlight, jaw slack at her words.

“That’s not– I didn’t mean it like that.” She scoffs, anger suddenly feeling like a really good idea as she takes another step back when he goes to reach for her.

“Oh really? Are you sure about that, Joel? Are you sure that this isn’t too much for you? That I’m not too much for you?” She regrets the words the instant they leave her mouth, her mounting insecurity a thick sludge in her throat as silence settles between them.

“This ain’t about the soap, is it?” She has to laugh at his timid question, throwing her hands out in frustration.

“Yes– no– fuck, I don’t know. I just– the way you looked at me? When I told you about Sarah? I’ve seen that look before, and I know it well– it usually means that it’s time for me to go.”

“Go? What do you mean go? I don’t want you to go anywhere, goddamnit!” The sharp raise of his voice catches her by surprise, his frustration clear in the long drag of his palm down his face, the sigh he lets out as he squints at her in the dim light.

“Then I need you to tell me right now if what I do, what I am, is going to be a problem for you. Because if it is, I can’t– can’t do this.” She can’t fight it down anymore, the hiccup in her voice, the warble that threatens tears, and Joel’s features soften at the little sniff she lets out.

“You know it’s not a problem for me, you know that. But– I ain’t gonna lie to you, this ain’t easy, darlin. All these things I sure as shit didn’t believe in until I met you. Sometimes I feel like my world’s been turned upside down trying to wrap my head around it all.” She doesn’t step away this time, when he gets closer to her, tentative hand reaching out and circling around her wrist before sliding down to tangle his fingers with hers.

“It’s a lot. But it’s not too much. I promise you.” Words she’s never heard before, and now she really can’t stop the tears muddling up her vision and slipping down her cheeks. He takes another step closer, his other hand coming up to brush away stray salt with the backs of his knuckles. And it finally clicks for her in that moment just how much she wants him to mean it, how much she wants him to stay, and it terrifies her.

“I really am sorry, Joel– about what I said earlier. I should’ve been more careful.” He holds his palm steady against her cheek, dark eyes swimming in shadows.

“I was the one that asked, darlin. I just– I’m gonna need a little more time with– with that.” She sighs, having already reached a conclusion that she doesn’t like one bit, though she knows it’s for the best. She isn’t going to let this be like any of the times before.

“I think that maybe we should take things– slower.” She can tell that Joel doesn’t like that, his brow scrunching up, thumb stilling where it had been stroking along the arc of her cheek.

“S-slower?” She nods, squeezing his hand that’s still tangled up in hers.

“We rushed into this, didn’t we? I mean– it’s only been a few weeks since we really started seeing each other, and I’m already practically living with you.” His face really falls at that, a deep frown settling around his lips.

“You don’t wanna live with me, is that it?” She’d laugh if he wasn’t looking so pitiful about it, instead offering him her best smile as she brings her other hand up to brush his hair out of his face.

“That isn’t what this is about, Joel. I just think it might be good for us– for you– if you’re not in my– upside-down world– all the time, at least at first. Like getting acclimated to a new altitude, you gotta take it slow.” She knows it’s a weak explanation the minute the words leave her mouth, but she also knows she’s right. Joel, on the other hand, still has a displeased scrunch to his face, like someone just told him a tasteless joke.

“Uh, well, ok– if that’s what you want then– I mean, I guess we can– we can do that– we can take things– slow.” He keeps clearing his throat between words, stop-starting himself like he’s trying to convince himself he means it as he’s saying it. And when he finally gets it all out, with a firm little nod of his head, she can’t help but reward him with a quick kiss.

“Thank you, baby. I really think this is important– I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t.” He nods again, his hand that had been cupping her cheek trailing down her shoulder, her arm, until he’s holding both her hands in his.

“So, what does this look like– us taking it slow?”

“We can figure it out as we go. But for right now, I think we can say goodnight, and I’ll go back to my place, and you’ll go back to yours.”

“Can I walk you home?” Her heart tugs at that, his question so earnestly asked, only making it harder for her to respond with a sigh.

“I kinda have to clean up the shop still. I can’t really leave that stuff out overnight, y’know? A-and I obviously don’t want you messing with it, so–”

“No, I-I get it, that’s alright. Um, so I guess, goodnight then.” She’s never seen him so flustered, having to stifle a giggle when he realizes he’s still holding her hands and lets go with a huff. He seems to think on it for a beat, quickly ducking in and pressing the most precious kiss to her cheek, muttering a quiet “goodnight, darlin” as he turns to head home, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and taking a few jerky looks over his shoulder at her before he rounds the corner of the alley.

She turns back to the shop with a sigh, Stevie sitting in the back doorway, head tilted at her.

“What? It’s for the best, you’ll see.”

…

For the record, Joel doesn’t like this taking it slow business, at all. He’s not even sure how she got him to agree to it, he had been so turned around that night, and she had been giving him those eyes… But no, he doesn’t like it, not one bit.

To start with, he doesn’t like that she no longer comes around to the stables at mid-day, no quick kisses, no easy smiles. Nothing. And he doesn’t like that she no longer comes over for dinner every night, and not just because she’s a better cook than him. He doesn’t like that his walk home from the stables no longer includes a regular stop by her shop. And he doesn’t like that he has to hear from Ellie what his woman was up to that day. He hates that they go on dates now, like normal fucking people, scheduling time to be together instead of just throwing out the clock and moving like magnets. But perhaps more than any of his other qualms, the thing he hates the most is that he doesn’t get her in his bed every night.

When he agreed to take things slow, he didn’t know it meant this slow. He didn’t know it meant goodnight kisses and holding hands but that’s it slow. Afterall, he’s only a man, and after getting to have her the way that he did, it feels damn near impossible not to crave that like a drug.

He’ll admit that she was right, taking it down a notch has made it easier to wrap his head around the things that she shares with him. But it’s been three weeks of this, and he’d turn himself upside-down, inside-out, and every which way around if it meant speeding things back the fuck up.

Laying in bed, his mind swirls with images of her. Is it gross that he hasn’t washed his sheets since the last time she stayed over? He doesn’t really care, not when there’s still a faint trace of incense and lavender on the pillow she slept on.

His mind wanders to the last time he had her here. It was early in the morning, before either of them had to go to work, and she had lazily slung a bare thigh over his waist, perfect in the hazy morning light as she straddled him. It had been slow and sweet, taking time that they didn’t really have. She was so warm and soft for him, all gentle sighs, the mesmerizing curve of her hips and the sway of her breasts, an image that works him up now in the cool darkness of his empty bed.

It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same. But it’ll have to do for now. He holds her steady in his mind, a dream, an idol, a fucking goddess, and he palms himself through his boxers, a damp spot already forming from just thinking about her. He kicks his sheets off, shrugging his boxers down just enough to let his cock spring out, pre-come smearing over his stomach where it now rests. Part of him can see how pathetic this looks, rubbing one out every night to the dream of his woman, but he wouldn’t have to if they weren’t taking things so goddamn slow. Now, a normal person would think that maybe he should just talk to her about picking up the pace. But he’s too stubborn for that, and he knows it, and it drives him crazy that he equates having that conversation with defeat. Joel tells himself that he can do this, he can give her what she wants, respect her boundaries, no matter how stupid he thinks they are.

He doesn’t take his time with himself. This is purely about release for him, and he knows exactly how to get himself there, spitting harshly into his hand and wrapping his palm around the base of his cock, scrunching his eyes shut as he starts to work himself over.

She’s all he thinks about in these moments, how her hands are so much different than his, still calloused from the work she does, but softer, and smaller. He thinks about the plush of her lips, and how they fall open when she comes, the little crease between her brow her other tell. He thinks about the way her spine curves and curls, and how his palms would run circuits around the arc as he took her from behind. His mind flashes with images of her, and it isn’t long before he’s coming with a low groan of her name, his spend smearing over his knuckles.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s been nearly a month now, or maybe he’s just more tired than usual, but Joel feels a particular pang of despair as he cleans himself up, and it’s enough to crack whatever resolve he had left.

He sleeps better that night, having decided that first thing the next morning he’s going to stop by the apothecary and he’s going to tell her that he’s done taking it slow.

That plan falls apart the moment he enters her shop. The first thing he notices is her bag, strewn out on the floor, a few jars and bottles spilling out of it, and his heart sinks. Next to Stevie, that bag is her baby, and Joel immediately knows that something isn’t right for it to be crumpled on the floor.

He calls out her name, but gets no response, though Stevie comes skittering out of the back room, making a beeline for his legs, frantically mewling as she rubs up against his pants leg, insistent and loud, and that isn’t quite right to him either.

Trying not to step on Stevie as she stays glued to his ankles, he shuffles into the back room, his brow scrunching up when he doesn’t see her, at least not right away.

“Joel?” That’s a voice he’s never heard from her before, barely there, hoarse, like she could only just get the word out. He steps further into the room, peering around the butcher’s block, and that’s when he finally sees her.

She’s curled in on herself, knees up to her chin, sitting in the back corner of the room. Her eyes are red-rimmed and swimming, tears streaking down her cheeks, the sight all but taking his breath away. He moves fast, his mind screaming at him that he needs to fix it, to make it better, whatever it is.

He’s quick to get down to her level, palms steadying her jaw as another resounding round of sobs rolls through her chest.

“Hey, hey– it’s ok, I’m here, huh? I’m right here. What– what happened? What is it?” His questions only seem to make her cry harder, shaking her head in his hands. She brings her hands to clasp his wrists, and it’s then that he notices dried blood lining her fingernails.

“You’re scaring me here, darlin. I need you to tell me what happened, please.”

“I lo-lost her– I lost her, I lost her, I can’t believe I lost her–” She breaks herself off with another sob, and Joel shifts to sit down next to her, wrapping his arms around her shuddering shoulders to coax her into his chest.

“Who– who’d you lose, darlin?” She evens out her shuddering breaths with a hard sigh, her answer coming on a few disjointed exhales.

“Maura went into labor last night– and I– and I– it was a girl– she was a girl– and she wasn’t breathing– she wasn’t breathing, Joel. And I didn’t know what to do.” She dissolves into another sob, and Joel doesn’t know what to do besides hold her a little closer, shock and sadness simmering in his veins. He remembers her telling him about Maura, one of her regular house visits to check on the progress of her pregnancy. She always told him how excited the woman seemed to get to become a mother.

“Is– is Maura ok?” He’s surprised by the bitter huff she lets out at that.

“I don’t kn-know. She kicked me out– told me it was my fault– she’s right– it’s all my– all my fault.” He’s quick to bring his palm to her jaw, coaxing her eyes up to meet his, gentle but firm pressure holding her there.

“Listen to me, it is not your fault. Not anyone’s fault, and it’s especially not yours. Whatever happened, I promise you, it is not your fault, do you understand?” She gives him no answer, just lets out another shaky sigh before burying her face back in his chest.

And all he can do is hold her as close as he can, and will some of her pain to seep into his skin, to make it even a little more bearable, to carry that for her. He reckons that he’d take it all away from her if he could.

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