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laurfilijames · 2 months

Text

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Hurricane. Power outage. Oral sex (F receiving). Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: A hurricane rolls in and knocks out the power, allowing Will to make good use of the time waiting it out with you.

A/N: I've had this idea toiling around in my head for a bit, and when we recently lost power at our cottage, I decided to go for it. I have no experience of hurricanes so I apologize if this isn't accurate, though I tried to remain vague. A big thanks to @rhoorl for the Florida hurricane knowledge and to @ramadiiiisme for supporting this idea through to the very end 💗

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The sight when you reached the top of the stairs stopped you in your tracks, admiring Will standing by the large window of your living room looking out at the wrath of weather outside, his expression content and thoughtful.

You set down the pile of various candles you had collected from every room in the house, smiling despite feeling a tangle of nerves in your stomach at the potential strength of this growing hurricane.

“Should you be standing that close to the window?” you asked, causing Will to smirk and glance over his broad shoulder at you.

“She’s starting to really ramp up out there.”

You sighed in response, dreading the thought of it getting any worse, the rain already accumulating to the point that the drainage systems on the street couldn’t keep up with it.

Will remained in place, staring back out at the palm trees swaying wildly, the bend of their trunks impressive, seeming completely unbothered by the storm and almost calmed by it.

Coming up behind him, you wrapped your arms around his waist and brought your hands up to his chest, feeling him take a slow breath in as he covered one of your hands with his.

“I like watching Mother Nature do her thing,” he explained, his voice soothing and even. “She’s angry, letting it all out.” He squeezed your hand as you rested your cheek on his back, already tired of watching the sheets of rain and extreme wind bully everything in their paths.

“I know what that’s like,” he finished, exhaling another slow breath that you felt fill and deflate out of his lungs.

Will turned and gathered you in his arms, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his somber admission now an afterthought. “So, what did you manage to scrounge up?” he asked, his tone lighter than before.

“Oh, just every candle I’ve ever bought or been given,” you smiled, turning your head to look at the array that was spread out on the kitchen table. “It might look nice when they’re all lit up, but the combination of scents might be a bit offensive.”

Will laughed, his body moving against yours with the motion of it, and you smiled and looked up at him, his blue eyes bright in the dim grey of the storm.

“I just hope the power stays on a bit longer,” you wished out loud, knowing however many candles you made glow wouldn’t be enough to outshine the encroaching dark from the storm let alone the fact that it was creeping later into the night.

“Hmm, yeah, the air conditioner is hardly keeping up as it is,” Will explained, his hand smoothing up your back where it dragged your shirt along with it, the stickiness of your skin and clothes already beginning to feel intolerable.

The lights flickered and the sound of the power surging through the house made both of you part slightly to glance at your surroundings, the warmth from the light of the lamps that were turned on illuminating your belongings for the last time before everything went dark.

Will chuckled while you groaned, his hands rubbing up and down your arms. “Well, sweetheart, it looks like you’ve got a superpower.”

You shot him a glare as you walked over to the table, starting to distribute the candles throughout the kitchen and living room, but not lighting any yet since some light was still coming in from outside.

Will sat on the couch, grinning as he watched you, almost seeming like he was pleased and entertained by the situation.

“How long before you turn on the generator?” you asked, testing your luck even though you knew what the answer was going to be.

He shook his head as he laughed again, “Not until I need to. We might have a ways to go here and I’m not wasting gas in the first few hours of this.”

His eyebrows crept up his forehead as he spoke, his voice stern and amused all at once. “You’re going to have to be patient and trust me.”

You sighed and nodded, flicking the Zippo lighter you held on and off a couple of times before walking into the living room to join him, knowing that out of all the people to have by your side during an emergency, Captain William Miller was the best and most capable one.

He had already spent hours checking the house to make sure everything was secure, gathering supplies like gasoline and food and water, and hauled sandbags all morning with Benny and Frankie that they distributed out to the neighbours, even making a point to check in on some of the elderly ones.

“C’mere,” he purred, beckoning you over to where he sat comfortably, his long legs spread wide with one arm draped over the back of the couch.

He looked at you adoringly as you moved toward him slowly, his smile growing to pull out the creases beside his mouth that couldn’t be kept hidden in his beard, and you matched it with your own sly grin, suddenly forgetting everything that was happening around you as you became pleasantly distracted by the man sitting before you.

You straddled his lap, pulling up the hem of your flowy skirt as you did, seating yourself directly on the bulge in his workout shorts that elicited a low moan from him.

“It’s going to be a long night, sweetheart,” he spoke softly, his eyes flickering over your chest and then up to your lips. “We’re going to have to ride this thing out.”

It was said with such implication that despite the heat, you shivered, goosebumps crawling up your back and down your arms, and you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as you squirmed on his vast thighs.

“And what are your suggestions for…riding… it out, Captain?”

Will shrugged and smirked, his eyes glowing the same way his skin was from the humidity that hung heavily in the room, his hands groping at your hips.

“I’ve got some ideas.”

You smiled as you cupped his cheeks, loving the way his dark blond facial hair felt against your palms, and pulled him into a kiss while arching your back to get your body closer to his at the same time, both of you breathing out in the relief of your lips meeting.

Will set the pace, starting off with slow rolls of his tongue with yours, his hands carding up and down your body languidly, reminding you that there was no hurry in any of your actions and that you had all the time in the world to do anything you wanted with each other.

You slid your hands down the thick column of his neck to his chest, feeling his pulse hammer against them, landing on his chest where his body heat poured off of him, the cotton of his t-shirt damp and clinging to his form.

It took everything in you to maintain composure, thankful for Will reminding you to slow it down whenever you found yourself moving your hips faster, his hands pressing and digging into your flesh to force you to keep the steady rhythm that he started.

The slick that already saturated your thong teased you the more you ground your aching core against him, feeling his hard cock straining against the material that contained it, the excitement and anticipation of having him buried inside you intensifying by the second.

The skin on your chin and lips were already raw from how long you had been kissing, the steamy makeout session only made better by dry humping each other until you both were on the verge of finishing how you were, your whines and moans growing while your movements decreased to be as light as possible in an attempt to prolong this intoxicating tease.

Will kissed and sucked at your neck and chest, having already exposed more of you by tugging the neckline of your shirt to the side with eager hands, his breath fanning over your sweat-coated skin when he sighed deeply through his nose.

“Fuck me, you’re gonna make me cum in my shorts.”

He huffed out a laugh, but his admission only spurred you on more, grinding harder on him until his humour faded out and was replaced by ferocity, growling as he pressed his lips against yours again, the sweat that saturated his beard transferring onto you.

The storm was still going strong in the background, sheets of rain pummeling the house and striking the window with a sound that mimicked waves crashing the shoreline, the nerves you felt about it shifting into a frenzied arousal that you directed onto the man beneath you.

Your hands struggled to get under his shirt, the material so stuck to his stomach from his sweat that the skin on your palms dragged along his abdomen, the tackiness making it difficult for you to peel it up over his head.

It hit the floor with a slap, the weight of it evidence of how much the heat and you were affecting him, and you smiled against his lips at the sound of his breath hitching as you slid your hands down his chest to land on his solid pecs while your lower half continued to torture him.

You touched him everywhere you could reach, smoothing down his stomach and back up again, cradling the sides of his neck and then over his shoulders, and finally up to his hair where you let your fingers rake through it until you knew you had made it stick up in a spiky mess, deepening your kiss as the sensation made him press harder into your mouth.

The window rattled from the force of the winds, disrupting you enough that you broke your kiss and turned to look at it, the thought of it possibly shattering filling you with worry as you were reminded of your vulnerability.

Will placed his hand on your chin, his thumb smoothing it while his other fingers tucked up under your jawline, guiding your head back to face him where he silently assured you that everything was fine, his eyes reflecting a surety and vow of protection that no amount of reinforcements on the house could ever match. He adjusted the pad of his thumb so it sat on your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly to part it from the upper one, and it surprised you to see how quickly his expression changed, his eyes darkened so much by lust in a matter of seconds that the look in them rivaled the clouds spiraling outside.

He kissed you desperately, his hands falling to your waist where he lifted your shirt upward, only pausing the union of your mouths long enough to remove it from you, your braless chest grazing against his when you leaned into each other again.

Goosebumps broke out across your skin despite the humidity clinging heavily to the air around you, your nipples hardening and feeling incredibly sensitive each time his body brushed against them, your needy moans pouring into his mouth the more his hands roamed over your mostly bare form.

You could hardly handle it anymore, desperate to feel him deep inside you, moving your hips back slightly so you could access him, tearing the front of his shorts down where you reached in for his cock. Will was helpful, lifting his ass off the couch so his shorts could slide down his thighs in order to expose all of himself, his expression serious with brows furrowed and knitted tightly together as he watched you grip him in your hand and began stroking him tip to base, smearing the precum leaking from it all over his silky shaft.

He grabbed your hips, pulling you back to sit directly on top of his groin, guiding your motions as you rocked your covered pussy on his bare cock.

“Fuck, that feels so good,” he hissed, holding your skirt up so he was able to watch you grind along his length, pressing his cock flat against his lower stomach where drips of cum spilled onto the smattering of flaxen pubes.

A slow sigh of approval passed your lips as you continued to languidly ride him, your eyes closing as you lost yourself in the sensation and moaning when you felt Will capture one of your breasts in his mouth and spin his tongue around your nipple.

You could feel him growing more impatient, his lips moving faster along your chest where he eagerly worshiped your tits, his fingers clawing at the thin material of your skirt as if he was ready to rip it to shreds to get at you, and his breathing became more laboured, his chest rising and falling quickly while the exhalations from his nose ghosted against the crests of your breasts.

“I need in there,” he growled, his head shaking to the side a couple of times like there was no way he could handle another second not being inside you, his fingers slipping into the crotch of your saturated panties to pull them to the side before running his index and middle fingers through your slick.

Your mouth pooled with saliva as he drove his long digits in and out of you in broad strokes before bringing them up to his mouth to suck them clean, his other hand angling his cock to line up to part your folds while you lifted yourself up on your knees to allow him access to enter you.

You sank onto him slowly, letting him fill you inch by inch until you encased him completely, his blue eyes locked with yours with an appreciation held in them that made your heart beat faster.

Remaining still, you leaned forward and kissed him, your hands holding onto either side of his face, deepening your kiss as you relished in the fullness he provided without moving.

When you parted, Will gave you a soft smile that made you melt, his fingers coming up to trace along the side of your cheek.

“I love you,” he said, the surety in his words clear, although his expression was a thrilling mix of adoration and something waiting to be unleashed, the suspense of experiencing either rough or gentle treatment exhilarating you.

“I love you too, Will,” you breathed, not daring to look away from him.

A strong gale slapped the side of the house, reminding you that the hurricane blasting outside wasn’t to be forgotten, but Will immediately drew your attention back to him, his hands smoothing up your back to hold you against him in a firm, but soft way, his lips pressing onto your shoulder and across your collarbone to your neck, alternating between kisses and nips that told you his control was beginning to falter.

You started moving on him, riding him in careful waves that felt so incredible you weren’t sure how long you could keep it up, knowing that whether you moved slow or fast, you would be reaching your climax in no time.

“That’s it, baby,” he praised, resting his back against the couch to watch you, locking his hands on your hips to force you down hard each time you lifted yourself up and almost off his cock.

He was completely enamoured, looking at you as if anything could be happening outside that window and he wouldn’t care to notice, his eyes dancing over your form in a struggle to choose which part of you he wanted to see the most.

Finding the perfect spot that made you thrum with ecstasy, you rolled your hips and bounced up and down, your swollen clit hitting the base of his cock in a shattering blow each time, your skin tingling from head to toe as your orgasm built.

“You’re right there, aren’t you?” Will asked, his words breathy as he admired you sliding on him.

“Yes, fuck!”

Will thrusted up into you a few times, your cries growing loud enough they almost drowned out the noise of the hurricane, your nails digging into the flesh on his shoulder as you approached your high.

“Hey, hey, hold on,” Will interrupted, though his voice was soothing. “Not yet.”

His eyes were big and bright despite the dark grey that had fully consumed the room, and although you were taken aback by him edging you, you couldn't deny the trust you had in him to look after you.

“Sit down,” he ordered, nodding to the space on the couch beside him as helped move your legs off of his.

Will stood and removed his shorts that sat halfway down his legs, stepping out of them before moving to kneel on the floor in front of you, his thumbs smoothing on your knees in a way that contradicted the way he forcefully pressed on them to encourage you to spread your legs for him.

He kissed his way up the inside of your right thigh, a low growl coming from him as he inhaled deeply when he reached your core, and then moved over to your other thigh, peppering wet kisses slowly away from where you needed him most until you were squirming where you sat.

“Will…” you breathed, shifting your hips to try to bring yourself closer to him.

“Let’s get this off,” he grunted, his patience thinning as your skirt was preventing him from taking everything he wanted.

He reached behind you, his fingers easily finding the zipper and pulled it down, keeping steely eye contact while wiggling it off your hips with the help of you shifting from one cheek to the other until he peeled the flowy fabric off of your body.

The creases on his forehead were pronounced as he continued to look up at you as he tugged at the waist of your thong, sliding it down to expose your dripping cunt that his eyes were now fixed on as he guided the wet piece of cotton to your feet.

Will hooked his arms under your legs, letting them relax on his biceps, his tattooed forearms wrapping around your thighs to hold you securely. He pulled you toward him, bringing you to the edge of the cushion so you were flush with his face, his nose brushing your folds before his tongue swiped through the mess he had already made.

A long moan toppled out of you as you raked your fingers through his hair, lifting your hips slightly to get even more contact with his talented tongue that licked at you slowly and precisely in an effort to wreck you.

He picked you apart minute after agonizing minute, continuously bringing you to the peak only to stop you there each time, the violent storm outside going ignored and nothing compared to the one raging inside you.

As always, Will was completely focused on his mission, working you with the expertise he had come to master over all the hours spent learning your body, knowing the exact amount of pressure placed on the perfect spot that would send you soaring.

Not once did his hands leave their hold on your legs, completely unselfish in his art and not even considering touching himself, his generosity and the thought of his leaking, rigid cock left waiting for attention adding to your demise.

You pleaded over and over, his name like a song with the storm as your instrumental background, desperate for release as you ground against his face, your heels digging into his waist as he in turn dug his mouth harder into your cunt.

He had you where he wanted you, and pushing your tolerance a little further, Will unraveled one of his arms from around your leg and slipped his hand between the sofa and you, fingering you slowly while he sucked at your over-sensitive clit, the precise hook of his fingers making you clench around them like a vice.

And then he stopped.

You cursed loudly, whining and squirming as he sat up and looked at you with a satisfied expression, his face glistening from your pleasure.

A stray branch from a tree flew by and struck the house, drawing both of your attention to the window, but Will was quick to recover where your focus belonged.

He stood, a slight hitch as he straightened his long legs, his body that had been put through so much physical turmoil over his years of service known to cramp up if left idle for too long.

Will gripped at your knee, pushing it toward the back of the couch so your body was forced to spin and lay down, crawling between your spread legs until he was positioned over top of you with his arms braced on either side of your shoulders.

He kissed you intensely, moaning into your mouth as his cock nudged where he had left you aching for relief, savouring you like he had gone without the press of your lips on his for days.

His hand found yours, interlacing your fingers as he brought your arm above your head, laying his body completely on yours so he covered you entirely, protecting you with all he had.

He was heavy, but comforting, his weight assuring and a reminder of his strength and unwavering love for you, and at the same time it came as a warning of the crushing power he could choose to have, like he was a hurricane all in himself and you were in his path of destruction.

Will paused in kissing you as he adjusted his hips, looking down between your bodies to watch his cock easily push through your tight folds, a shaky breath exhaling from his parted lips as his brows knitted tightly together at the sensation of being back in your embrace.

You looked to the side to see out the window as another blast of wind surged against the house, only to have Will squeeze your hand that he still held in his, his voice calm and even.

“Hey, focus on me,” he ordered, his eyes a turbulent blue when you met them. “Look at me.”

You nodded, holding his gaze as he began to move inside you, the feel of him stroking your walls in long, slow drags making it difficult to keep your eyes open.

Your free hand ran along the flexing muscles of his back, clawing at his sweat-coated skin as he found a pace that brought you right back to the point he had left you at more than once, your head tipping back into the couch as you were dragged into the throes of pleasure even more intensely than before.

“You’re safe with me, sweetheart,” Will promised, his voice intoxicating and comforting all at once. “I’ve got you, you can relax…”

He spoke against your neck before moving his mouth back to yours, kissing you gently before probing his tongue in, the tempo of his thrusts deepening now that he knew you were succumbing to everything he was giving you.

He moved on you like the wind moved the rain, pushing and forceful, seeking his own release as he rolled against you with fervor and breathy moans were exchanged between your mouths as you chased your highs together.

Your whole body tensed, convulsing and giving up all control as he fucked you through the shattering orgasm made even more powerful thanks to how he had edged you, feeling yourself release on his shaft that alternated between being buried deep inside you and pulling out almost completely.

Will pressed his mouth hard on yours before breaking the seal of your lips, allowing his laboured breaths and rough grunts to sound out as he fought to follow right behind you, the cadence of your contracting walls coaxing out his end.

You could feel him pulse inside you, filling you to the brim with his thick, hot seed that was always generous in its quantity, his pace remaining steady though his rhythm began to break.

Drops of sweat from his brow landed on your chest, his harsh movements shaking the accumulated moisture off of him, continuing to buck into you erratically until he had nothing left to give.

He crashed against your lips again, transferring even more sweat from his efforts onto your skin, his hand releasing yours where he brought it to your head and smoothed it over your hair, kissing you slowly but purposefully as he gradually let the rolling of his hips fade out.

After a minute, Will pulled out of you, reaching for some tissues out of the box on the side table and handed them to you, taking some for himself for you to both clean up. He stood with a grunt, looking down at you with an extended hand to take the soiled tissues from you, the muscles in his cheeks flinching wildly as he clenched his teeth together.

Will paused for a minute, looking out at the tempest scene, all of his veins raised as blood pumped strongly through them, his muscles accentuated beautifully from his efforts, and you couldn’t help but fall even further in love for him, his face stoic and almost unreadable, but only you knew how much emotion lingered beneath.

He sighed as he moved again, stretching his weary limbs while stalking to the kitchen, and you wondered if he had any idea how much you worshiped him even as he did the simplest of things.

You laid there listening to him rummage around, looking out the window at the ever-present hurricane, the room almost completely dark as night had successfully consumed the sun along with the storm.

Will returned with two glasses of water and set one on the table, passing the other to you.

“Drink up, sweetheart,” he drawled, smirking as he spoke. “The eye hasn't even passed over yet, we’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

The wink he sent you went straight to your core, your anticipation of whatever else he had planned for you enticing you and almost had you hoping this hurricane would last for days.

You returned his smile as you brought the glass to your lips, sipping it as you watched him sit on the couch beside you and grab the lighter off the coffee table, flicking it on so the warm flame illuminated his dewy, gorgeous features in the otherwise dreary dark. He lit the two candles that you had placed there earlier before grabbing his own glass and downing the contents of it, seeing the way his throat moved as he swallowed making you thirsty for more.

He sighed when he finished drinking, running his hand over his face to rid it of the sweat, and looked back over to you still laying where he had left you.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asked, his eyes slowly traveling up your naked form until they landed on yours.

You shook your head ‘no’, giving him a sated smile, thinking how you would happily give up air conditioning and electricity permanently if it meant sharing more moments like this with him.

Will gave a nod and laid down beside you, helping you shift so there was room for him to lay with his front against your back, spooning you comfortably where you both were able to face the window.

His arm draped over your waist and tucked under yours, his hand cupping your breast, and tangling his legs with yours, brought his groin as close to your bum as he could.

He hummed against the back of your neck, his nose brushing your damp skin, and you smiled when you felt he was hard again, his cock pressing between your cheeks.

“You’re going to outlast this hurricane,” you giggled, squirming so your bum rubbed along his shaft, making him growl against your skin.

“Damn right, sweetheart,” he chuckled, his hand running down your stomach and around to your ass, spreading your cheeks apart where he slowly pushed inside your tight walls.

He kissed your neck, the sensation of his beard on your skin making you moan and shiver, his hand returning to your breast where he tugged and pinched at your peaked nipple.

“We're going to need to pace ourselves, here,” he warned in your ear, beginning the slow drag of his cock out of you before slamming it back in, the conflict he felt between wanting to keep you safe and seeking to destroy you playing in his mind.

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#will miller #will miller smut #will miller x female reader #triple frontier #charlie hunnam #will miller x reader #will 'ironhead' miller #william miller #william 'ironhead' miller #triple frontier fic #will miller fic #charlie hunnam characters

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oliversrarebooks · 2 months

Text

The Rare Bookseller Part 43: Katherine's Advice

Prev > Masterlist > Next

September 1925

TW: conditioning, discussion of abuse, panic attacks

Oliver put the finishing touches on a set of egg-salad sandwiches, neat triangles with the crust removed, and set them on a platter along with an assortment of tea cookies from a local bakery. Truthfully, he didn't know the first thing about entertaining -- with no friends or family and a tiny bookshop apartment, it wasn't anything he'd ever had to do. Alexander had some helpful suggestions for things he'd seen other thralls do, and had procured the supplies Oliver would need for a light midnight lunch (or whatever one might call it.)

In fact, Alexander had been hovering around Oliver a great deal since their fraught conversation a couple of nights before. He'd bought a bounty of foods he supposed Oliver might like, and seemed to be popping up around every corner of the library to show Oliver interesting books. It was as though his master thought he needed to win his favor all over again -- despite the fact that Oliver was still very much enthralled, his thoughts often going hazy and filling with imagined echoes of siren song.

Oliver didn't really need the attention, but he did appreciate the advice on entertaining. Embarrassing as it was, Oliver really did want to impress his guests. So much had happened over the past few weeks, his entire life and conception of the world turned on its end. The only people who might really understand were vampires' thralls. Miriam hadn't seemed quite lucid enough for a true conversation, but Alexander had told him that Miss Ruth's thrall, Charlie, was quite intelligent and together.

It'd be nice to talk to someone else who had gone through... this. That was all.

He had just finished up in the kitchen when the doorbell rang and his master rushed to greet the guests. "Hello hello!" sang a voice that Oliver would never forget: Miss Lily. She brought both of her hands to her face in a dramatic mock gasp. "Lex? No, it can't be. You don't look like you just clawed your way out of a grave. Who are you, and what have you done with Lex?"

"Mm. Nice to see you too."

"And look at you!" Miss Lily ruffled Oliver's hair. "You look like you're adjusting quite well! Are you the one responsible for Lex's shocking good health?"

Oliver blushed, not certain how to respond to the praise. She seemed different from how she had been in the auction house, more relaxed, but something about her voice and mannerisms still made Oliver feel a bit dazed and eager to please. "I'm just glad I was able to help him, sir."

"Of course you did. I just knew a thrall like you could do him a world of good. Speaking of which..." She pulled her thrall Miriam through the front door, and she looked at Oliver with her usual clouded expression. "Miriam, you remember Oliver, don't you? Lord Alexander's new thrall?"

She looked confused for a moment before her face lit up a bit in recognition. "Oh, yes! From when we were staying at the auction house. It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you, too." Miriam's uncertain mental state made him a bit uneasy. If Lily and Alexander were anything alike, would he end up similarly entranced? Would he even realize if it happened? Was it happening already?

"But Miriam's not the only person I've brought along. I took the liberty of inviting one of our old friends that Lex has been avoiding."

Alexander looked confused. "Ruth? I haven't been avoiding her."

"Ruth's on the way, too, but no, not her."

"Oh -- you don't mean --"

A sophisticated-looking older woman, gray hair tucked in neat curls, stepped out from the porch. She was wearing an old-fashioned, dark blue flannel dress with a high collar. Behind her was another older woman, also wearing an old-fashioned flannel dress, hers covered with a ruffled white pinafore.

"Edith! It's been ages!" said Alexander.

"And whose fault is that?" she said, in the tone of a worried mother. "You kept turning me away when I called on you, and I'd hear all about it from Lily -- how you refused to take a thrall, and were drinking bottled blood --"

Alexander looked uncharacteristically cowed by the scolding. "And I'm sure she's told you that I have a suitable thrall, now, so you needn't worry about my health."

"I'll stop being worried about your health when you start taking proper care of yourself," she said. "But I'd like to meet this thrall of yours. Is this him?"

Even with his master and Miss Lily around him, Oliver could still feel the pull of this new vampire's aura on his mind. It was soothing, almost numbing, and he had the odd thought that she must be a good master. "My name is Oliver Pines, sir, and I am indeed Lord Alexander's thrall. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, what a polite and charming thrall," Miss Edith said with a smile. She shamelessly took Oliver's chin in her hand to examine his face, and Oliver was surprised that his master didn't seem to mind. "Healthy, and his blood smells very nourishing."

"As you can see, I'm taking care of myself just fine," said Alexander defensively.

"I suppose this is a better state of affairs than your usual. But where are my manners? I haven't introduced myself properly." she said, and then turned back to Oliver. "You may address me as Dr. Edith. I'm a doctor who has served the vampire community for over a century. If you're ever sick or injured, no doubt your master will call on me to help."

"You're a vampire... doctor, sir?"

"There are very few health ailments that can afflict vampires, so I primarily take care of their precious thralls. After all, healthy thralls are necessary for a healthy vampire," she said, with a pointed look at Alexander.

He rolled his eyes with a smile on his face. "Yes, yes, your point has been made."

"And this is Katherine, my faithful nurse," said Dr. Edith, gesturing to the woman who had accompanied her.

Katherine delicately shook Oliver's hand. "Good to meet you." She looked bright-eyed compared to Miriam, but her hand was warm, and she clearly was not a vampire.

"Are you a..."

"Dr. Edith's thrall, yes, and her nurse and assistant and whatever else is required of me."

"I see," he said with relief. He was looking forward to having a chat with a thrall who seemed to still have her wits about her.

While the group was still exchanging pleasantries, hanging up coats and hats, when the doorbell rang once again. It was Miss Ruth, the vampire lawyer who had sized up Oliver's suitability for a clerk at the auction house. She was followed by a tall, broad-shouldered man.

"Do you remember me, Oliver?" she asked.

"Yes, sir, I remember you very well. You asked me to recite state capitals. I'm glad to see you well."

Miss Ruth looked at him with longing. "Oh, I do wish I could have afforded to buy you," she said. "But no matter how hard I work, I just can't compete with Lex's fortune."

The broad-shouldered man was named Charlie, and he was one of Miss Ruth's thralls and law clerks. He favorited Oliver with a stoic nod, and between him and Katherine, he couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious. Now that he was fully enthralled and owned by a vampire, it was strange to be around other humans, even those in a similar boat. It made him more keenly aware of his situation, and he wondered how he seemed to other people, all too aware that he was under a hypnotic spell.

"Now that all of our guests have arrived, Oliver, why don't you get your tea and refreshments and show the thralls into the second-floor sitting room?" said Alexander. "We'll be meeting in the parlor, and I would prefer not to be disturbed."

"Yes, sir," said Oliver, feeling more than a bit like a child being shooed off so the adults could talk. But even though he'd love to hear what the vampires were discussing -- especially since he seemed to be of particular interest to them -- he was also eager to have a chat with the other thralls.

A few moments later, and he'd enlisted Katherine and Charlie's help in carrying trays to the sitting room. The curtains were open wide, offering a pleasant view of the gaslit city streets and the waning moon. Miriam settled into a plush chair and pulled a knitting project out of a small bag as Oliver poured tea for the four of them.

"Please, help yourself to sandwiches and cookies," he said.

"You're a lovely host, Oliver," Katherine commented. "And so lucid, as well."

"Um --"

Charlie glared. "An awkward thing to say to a new thrall, don't you think?"

"At my age, I don't see any point dancing around the bush. I've seen hundreds of thralls, after all, and I'm well aware that we're some of the more fortunate ones."

"How long have you two been thralls?" asked Oliver.

"Six years for me," said Charlie.

"I've been with the doctor for nearly thirty years now."

"Thirty years!" said Oliver. "I didn't know... well..."

"Didn't realize that a thrall could last so long in the service of a vampire?" said Katherine, amused. "It's understandable, but it's more common than you might expect. I'm particularly lucky in that my master is a doctor, and so I'm kept very healthy."

"Do you like your master?"

"I do," said Katherine. "I'm under her spell, of course, but after all these years, that's practically background noise. But after having met so many vampires, I'm glad it was the doctor who enthralled me. I meet lots of interesting people and vampires, and I get to help them. I'm never bored. And she's always treated me well."

"I'm also happy to serve my master," said Charlie in a tone that sounded a bit strange. "I mean, I do miss my old life sometimes, and it's hard work to be a clerk, but my living conditions are so much better than when I was working at the factory, that's for sure. My math and reading have improved, too."

"And how about you, Oliver? What's your first impression of serving Lord Alexander?" said Katherine.

Oliver's mind swirled with thoughts, of his master's siren song and his feeding and his need, of the library and the comfortable bed and generous food, of his tiny apartment above the bookshop that used to be modest but his, of the threat of his master's sire.

"It's been good so far. Lord Alexander will be a good master to me, I hope," said Oliver carefully. "But... did you two know his previous thralls?"

Katherine exchanged a look with Charlie. "Ah, yes, Henry. I remember him. He was more... subdued. Like Miriam."

"Like Miriam," Oliver repeated, his fear of having his mind fade away from him renewed.

Miriam looked up from her knitting. "Hm?"

"Nothing, dear," said Katherine. "I believe that Lord Alexander has, for the most part, always treated his thralls very well. He's a gentle vampire, and he's always treated me with more respect than is due a thrall. But..."

"But?"

"Well... I have had to treat a number of mysterious injuries on Alexander's previous thralls. Miss Lily's as well. I assume you know what those two have in common."

Charlie looked impatient. "There's no need to beat around the bush. Our vampires won't mind us talking about this. They're probably talking about the same thing," he said. "Oliver, what has Lord Alexander told you about the Maestro?"

"The Maestro?" said Oliver, his eyes widening. "Is that... his sire?"

"Oh dear. Yes, he is," said Katherine. "So he's told you very little. It's the way of vampires, unfortunately. Even my master barely tells me anything."

Oliver gripped his chair. "I need to know. Please, tell me."

"I'm afraid I don't know that much myself. He's notoriously reclusive. But I have had to visit his manor to attend to thralls on a number of occasions. Even my master would prefer not to go there, but she says it's too dangerous to defy him."

"What was he like?"

Katherine leaned in close, as though the subject of their conversation might somehow overhear. "His power lets him control people's bodies utterly. His thralls are like toy soldiers, moving to a drum only they can hear. I'm used to all kinds of thralls, but his were uncanny." Katherine shuddered. "Even though he didn't lay a hand on me, he was glaring at me the entire time, and I could feel his influence pulling at my mind. A feeling as though I had to fall in line immediately, or something terrible would happen. Like I could barely think without him hearing it. I've rarely wanted to flee a manor so quickly as that one."

"That does sound... unpleasant," he said, trying to keep his hands from shaking as he sipped his tea, unable to stop his imagination from conjuring visions of himself being used as little more than a puppet. "And his thralls were injured?"

"My master complained that he hadn't called until they were practically bleeding out -- afterwards, of course, not while we were there. Malnourished, too, with a haunted look about them." She put a hand on his knee with a sympathetic look. "But these were the Maestro's own thralls, not Alexander's. You have far less to worry about here. As I've said, I've always found him to be a very gentle vampire."

"Convenient," huffed Charlie. "A vampire with a reputation for being gentle and honest, who gets to blame all his thralls' injuries on his notoriously cruel sire."

Katherine looked alarmed. "Charlie --"

"I'm just saying that I find it hard to believe the apple falls that far from the tree."

Before Katherine could interject again, Miriam unexpectedly looked up from her knitting, fear written on her normally placid face. "But it is true," she insisted. "Lord Alexander has never hurt me. Neither has Miss Lily, except when she has to leave me there, and --" Tears began to roll down her face. "I can hear it. I can still hear it. Miss Lily told me I could forget, but I can't, I can't forget or he'll punish me --"

"Miriam, oh dear, Miriam, it's okay," said Katherine, pulling the sobbing thrall into an embrace. "It's all right, Miriam. No one's going to hurt you here. You're safe with us, dear."

"I can dance. I can do the dance perfectly, I promise, just let me try, I can do it." Miriam's anxious mumble was barely intelligible between her crying and the way she was pressed against Katherine.

"Miriam, you aren't there. You aren't anywhere frightening. You're having tea at Lord Alexander's house, remember?"

"I'm at...?"

"Lord Alexander's house. His thrall Oliver is being such a gracious host. It's perfectly safe. See?"

Miriam seemed to wake from her terror almost as quickly as she'd fallen into it. "Oh, of course, I don't know what I was thinking!" she said, glassy-eyed as she lifted her head from Katherine's shoulder. "Oh, I always enjoy when my madam visits Lord Alexander. He's very kind to me."

"Of course he is, dear," said Katherine, patting her back. "We really shouldn't bring up such awful topics around Miriam. She's a sensitive soul. Charlie, how's your baseball team doing?"

Oliver wanted to hear more, even though it terrified him, but he also felt awful that his questioning had thrown Miriam into a panic, so he eagerly went along with the topic change. "You like baseball, Charlie?"

"Love baseball, always have," he said, also looking relieved at the conversation switch. "My master gave me a great radio set, so I can listen to all the games. But my team's doing awful this year -- bottom of the league. They never shoulda traded their star pitcher..."

As Oliver listened to Charlie rant about blown games and poor referee calls, as Katherine discussed birdwatching and a new bread recipe she'd tried, he could almost forget the fear of his situation and feel a little bit normal.

It was only later, after Charlie and his madam left and Miriam was engrossed in her knitting, that Oliver was able to pull Katherine aside. "Katherine, will you please hear me out?"

"Certainly," she said in a motherly tone. "I know how hard it is, the first few weeks of being a vampire's thrall."

"What you said before..." He glanced around as if he were afraid his master would pop out of the shadows at any moment. "Am I safe here? Will I be all right? I've been conditioned to be unable escape..."

"That's normal, yes. I assume Miss Lily was the one who handled your conditioning?"

"She was."

"Then no, I don't expect you'll be able to escape," she said. She put a hand on Oliver's shoulder. "I can't promise that you will be safe. What I said about the Maestro was all true, and while I do believe Alexander means well on the whole, you're among vampires now. We live in their world, and they do what they will with us."

Oliver felt his gut twist. "So then..."

"I've met so many thralls in my life. Hundreds, probably. Most in worse situations than you, and some in better," she said. "Would you like to hear my honest advice about surviving this?"

"Yes, by all means."

"Find happiness wherever you can. Find joy outside of your master's enthralling and feeding. Hobbies, food, art, education, anything that brings you pleasure -- indulge in it." She smiled warmly. "You'll need these pleasures to keep your mind sharp and keep your soul from despair. When you're permanently a prisoner, you need something tangible to look forward to, even if it's simply a warm drink or a beam of sunshine. You seem like the sort of man who can appreciate the mundane."

"...I like to believe so, yes."

"That's a skill that will serve you well, Oliver," she said. "Even if Alexander and his sire are cruel to you, you'll still have something to hold on to during your darkest moments."

"Something to hold on to..."

"I think you will figure it out. With how much Lord Alexander seems to prize you, it wouldn't surprise me to meet you here twenty years from now, looking back on our lives with our vampires."

She seemed to mean it, and that gave Oliver hope.

Prev > Masterlist > Next

I really enjoy Edith as a character and hope to write at least one side story with her.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot @cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree

#whump #whump writing #vampires #vampire whump #mind control #vampire whumpee #rare bookseller #oliver #alexander #lily #miriam #edith #katherine #ruth #charlie

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apprenticestanheight · 5 months

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THE FIVE DAYS OF SMUTMAS QUEUE: DAY FOUR

Christmas Eve- Mike Schmidt x gn! reader

ALLLLLL RIGHT! Merry christmas eve to those who celebrate and happy sunday to everyone who doesn't! I do celebrate, however, and I also absolutely adore mike schmidt despite how minimally I've written for him, so I decided to compensate with a little bit of christmastime smut.

This fic, if it's not already obvious, is for audiences of 18+. Minors go away pls, I have a couple of fics in other genres for mike and do not want you here for this one.

Fic type - this is a little bit of fluff because it feels like most of my fics for this event have had angst undertones! I wanted to change it up a bit and mike deserves a bit of fluff so I went with that!

Warnings - body worship is very much implied, being coerced into sex is mentioned once

December had never really been an easy month in Mikes life. Christmas always ached without his brother around, hurt all the more after his mothers death and hurt his wallet when Abby started getting old enough to remember the gifts she got, but then you came around when Mike was twenty five and you were twenty four and two years out from finishing your masters degree in journalism.

Ever since you'd come along, in the five years since that fateful day at a job where Mike had, amazingly, managed to last six months, things had felt distinctly easier for him.

They were easy enough that, when his father asked to have Abby over through Christmas Eve and some of Christmas Day, after he'd asked Abby if she wanted to, he'd told his father yes.

They were easy enough that smiles came easily to his face and he stopped worrying about cutting costs where he could in the lead up to Christmas shopping, though he still did cut costs somewhat so as to make sure you got a gift that was more than just a bottle of the cologne he used because you adored the way he smelled.

Decembers had become so easy that the tension in his shoulders that always arised within that month had not come since he was twenty six, you'd been living together for six months, and it was your first Christmas together.

However, at twenty-nine and thirty, you're experiencing your first Christmas as a couple without a child in your vicinity, and Christmas Eve takes on a surprisingly normal tone.

Mike goes to work because his boss needs him there and he could use the time and a half. You stay at home, tidy up the living room and then the kitchen and then the bedroom that you share.

You make a list of things that are needed around the house and then go to whatever Christmas markets are open in New Orleans, nipping into one of the open charity shops and grabbing a copy of Stephen Kings novel "Cujo" before you're heading to the animal shelter to help out for an hour.

Once home, you take a second to make sure the tree still looks decent before you head to your bedroom and slip out of the clothes that you'd chosen to wear--a white cable knit sweater and a pair of wide legged jeans with the solovairs that you'd bought on a whim three years prior and had adored ever since--and into clothes that you steal straight from the source. The top left and right drawers of Mikes dresser.

You steal a pair of his boxers and one of the baggier shirts that he owns, surprised to find it's a little baggy on you as well, and settle into bed for the remainder of the day, content to spend your Christmas Eve evening just relaxing with your book and whatever episode of whichever sitcom decides to grace your television screen.

Mike comes home at something like seven thirty, grinning when he sees the state you're in.

"Ordered Chinese," he says. "The restaurant was pretty full when I went but I was told it'd be free if it was delivered more than an hour after I ordered it, so we have a bit of time to waste. Is your book good?"

"Dog with rabies," you shrug. "It's--it's Cujo. Would've read something like A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens but if I'm honest, I am in fact so vain that I chose not to grab it from the charity shop I visited after running errands at the Christmas markets that were open today based on the fact that the cover was ugly."

Mike laughs. "The cover of Cujo aint much better, baby,"

"This is a first edition, thank you very much," you let a bit of sarcasm drip through your tone before you can help yourself, which is something Mike has always liked about you. He's found, in recent, that optimism is indeed nice but sarcasm where applicable will always take the cake. "If it's ever worth much, it could buy us lunch or maybe a week of groceries."

"So you don't like it, then?"

You shrug. Mike sits on the bed. "Dog with rabies," you murmur, setting the book to your right as Mikes hands find your hips. Yours find his shoulders and when you kiss, it's so full of love that it's almost unimaginable. Your kisses have always been that way, always good, never anything less than that. When you kiss Mike, you do it knowing he loves you deeply and that you love him much the same.

When he pulls away, he's looking at you with the same look he always gives you whenever all he wants is to feel you pressed against him, feel his lips against your own, his hands on your hips as he thrusts inside you and encourages you with enough praise to make you boil.

"We've got the house to ourselves," he murmurs against your lips. One of your hands goes to his hair. "I did spoil you with what I grabbed this year, sure, but I got a Christmas bonus. Plus, it's been so long since we've had the time, baby."

You pull him into another kiss and Mike laughs contentedly into it. He leans into you, hands slipping under the shirt you'd stolen from him.

"I love you," he murmurs, lips moving away from yours to press kisses across your jawline and down your neck. "I love your thighs, baby, and your arms, and your stomach, and your stretch marks."

You adjust your neck, turning it slightly to allow him better access. "I love your voice, I love your hands, I love the way that you look in one of my shirts. I love you so, so much, Y/N."

You let him break the kiss to pull the shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room knowing he'll relocate it later.

You realize, really quickly, why Mike is being so sweet.

It's not to sweeten the deal or to try to coerce you into sex--Mike isn't that kind of person. He's made it clear time and time again that either both of you want it or neither of you do--but because he knows how work has been for you.

Work has been terrible. You've been getting a couple of good stories--including one about a run down pizzeria with too many animatronics to count--and it's gotten really competitive with the holidays.

But your news station would be closed until the 31st, and you didn't need to worry about competing with your coworkers anymore. And Mike knew that, but still, he was being sweet because he knew you needed him to be. You needed praise and a bit of extra attention, so he would provide you with both.

You lay down on the bed and let Mike kiss you all over, taking his time with you like he would've early on in your relationship. When he takes off the boxers you'd stolen he laughs, kisses your hip and calls you a thief of amazingly ethereal proportions.

You let yourself get lost in how good his touches, his kisses and his sweet nothings feel, moan when he starts doing all the things that drive you insane and love him for moaning at the way that you scratch his back, breaking the skin but not drawing blood.

And then you're fumbling for a condom, kissing Mike deeply as you roll it onto his length, pulling him as close as he can be as he bottoms out in you and waits for you to adjust.

"You're amazing," he says when he starts thrusting. "You're so good to me, Y/N. I don't deserve you, yeah? I don't deserve someone who treats me this good."

"You do," you're shocked that you're able to speak, so blissed out from the way that he feels. "You deserve me, Mikey. Please don't think otherwise. Love you so much, Mike. Wanna make sure you know that while you treat me like I'm some kind of a god."

Mike laughs, quickens his pace just enough. "You might as well be," he says teasingly, pressing a quick peck to your lips.

You're coming around him within minutes of the continued praise and the way that he holds you, and your release triggers his. You both moan out, and while you lay still, staring at the ceiling, Mike throws the condom away.

You go and pee to avoid a UTI, start up a shower. You and Mike shower together, holding onto each other tightly and lovingly while you talk about how much driving you'll have to do tomorrow, make jokes at one anothers expenses and share kisses while you wait for the conditioner to set.

All in all, it's the perfect end to a perfect Christmas Eve.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #fnaf movie #five nights at freddys #five nights at freddys movie #fnaf

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jaijaitbinks · 1 year

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Fic idea:

Genos has just finished making lunch. Something simple but with a delicious scent so strong it wakes Saitama from his nap. Now, as Saitama's (adorably) sleepy eyes adjust to the light, Genos takes off his apron and hangs it on the little hook.

He can't say why he suddenly thought of it, but as he hangs it up, he thinks: "Did Saitama ever use it?"

Saitama had mentioned once, when Genos asked why he had it, that it was just on sale and he figured "Why not?" and bought it. But he never told him if he'd used it, and to this day Saitama hasn't ever worn it on the rare occasions where he's the one cooking.

And the thought, the mental image, of Saitama shirtless with pajama bottoms, wearing the pink apron and making breakfast, sparing a few seconds to smile at a newly-awake Genos makes the cyborg steam. He swats the thoughts away before they get too much and takes their plates to the kotatsu, where a sleepy Saitama waits with a gentle smile. He sets the plates down, leans down to kiss him softly, then sits down himself.

Breakfast is quiet up until the end, where Genos's plate is cleaned off and Saitama's just two bites away. That's when Genos asks if he uses the pink apron.

Saitama processes the question for a moment. "Eh, not anymore. I used to before you moved in and basically took it hostage." He huffs a laugh when Genos pouts, but goes on to add: "Why?"

Genos shakes his head. "No reason. It's just that I realized I've never seen you wear it, despite the fact you were the one who bought it."

Saitama hums, his eyes lingering on Genos' face for another second before shoveling the last bite into his mouth. The conversation ends there.

But on the other end of the table, Saitama is slowly getting... well, eager. It wasn't hard to tell what Genos was thinking when he brought up the apron. Especially after Genos easily dismissed his question with a "it's nothing" or some equivalent. He never says that unless he's trying to hide a specific thought. And when it clicked in his head what Genos was thinking about, Saitama got an idea. One that already has him excited for dinner.

So, fast forward to dinner. Genos had been out all day running errands, fighting a monster, getting a quick repair after said monster cracked his face. Saitama insisted he cooks dinner for them so that they could eat sooner (something Genos knows Saitama wants so they could sooner get to cuddling. Saitama always wants to cuddle, especially after he's sustained damage during battle, no matter how severe). When he finally comes home, an immediate "I'm home!" leaving his lips upon opening the door, he's greeted with the scent of dinner—paired with the meats and vegetables, the steam and the bubbling sounds, it's a stew. He slips off his shoes, excited to see his boyfriend after an entire day of not being able to. He takes a few steps and peeks into the kitchen, a compliment on the smell ready on his tongue.

Then, he damn near short-circuits then and there.

Saitama's in the kitchen, in the pink apron, and nothing else. Nothing else. His ass just on full display, the pink strings tied and resting on the curve of it like a ribbon on a present. He's on his toes, reaching into the cupboards they have for spices, one hand on the counter and back arced in a way Genos immediately knows is deliberately done. When steam hisses out from the cyborg, Saitama finally looks at Genos, smiles.

"Welcome home." He sets himself back down of his feet, salt in his hand. "It's still gonna be while till it's done, so if there's anything you wanna do, you've got time."

There's a look in Saitama's eyes that glows with the most inconspicuous invitation ever. And Genos doesn't even hesitate before coming closer.

#opm #one punch man #saitama #genos #saigenos #genosai #fic ide

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freshmanyearhistoryteacher · 1 year

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hello i just found your blog and this is exactly what i was hoping for my blog omg i love it sm ,,,

can i possibly request a male english teacher with a breeding kink? i just want to get knocked up by an older man it hurts so bad ,,, student can be female or nb either is fine <33

UNFINISHED im sorry im so sick rn it hurts to exist. Also I've literally got such a back up of requests this user doesn't even have an account anymore 💀 💀 I hope they see it tho lmfao

Warning, contains:

mentions of how creepy the dynamic is

pet names

no sex surprisingly

Word count: 1, 530

It was an odd day. The weather hadn't been annoyingly warm nor bone chillingly cool. Classes seemed to fade past without the constant dragging of time usually accompanying them despite the final exams which crawled ever closer. She sat at the back of the class, though only a few chairs were still filled as the option of a "study break" had been offered to those already finished with assigned course work, with her hair tied back and pen scribbling across half filled paper. Three books balanced on the corner of her desk, the cover held down with a collection of pens which she rotated through as she changed from topic to topic and attempted a system of colour coding doomed to fail the second she left the class.

From the front of the room her teacher watched. He would have, if he'd been able to, spared more thought to the fact that it was very obvious that his eyes had not left her, but he was too transfixed to look away. It was the way short wisps of her hair blew in the breeze of the fan left on at the front of the class and the way she tapped her pen between questions. It was wrong. So awfully wrong. But he couldn't stop the itching that covered his skin and the flush that it bought to his cheeks. fuck, he thought, he should have worn looser pants today. But even the thought of having to pre-plan his outfits just for her made his skin itch more. He shifted his eyes to his desk, pretending to read an assessment by some lower grade student he couldn't remember the name of. He wanted… needed to touch her. It wasn't fair that she got to sit there, biting her perfect round lips, and he was forced to stay here. This was infuriating. He felt helpless, needy… out of control. He needed to make her his, needed to prove that he could. He scratched the stubble on his chin. He had often thought about how she felt about him, if she shared the same sentiment. The blushing glances and embarrassed brushes of hands as tests were handed out sure seemed to suggest she did. Even the way her friends stared at her every time he walked past in the hall made his heart stammer with pride. He glanced up from the desk and met her eyes, which widened and shot back down to the paper in front of her as she searched for where she had been last writing desperately. He smirked softly, glancing back down at his desk as well, only to feel her eyes once again return to him. Only after a torturous amount of time did the bell ring. Leaving enough time for him to desperately wonder what she had been thinking and how much of her work had been done in order to only seem busy whilst staring at him instead of truly caring for the classes. And exactly enough time for her to debate if he even cared or if her friends were correct in their assumption that the obsession was entirely one sided from her.

The room emptied yet she had not moved and he now waited standing near the door. The old wood slipped from his hands and clicked shut softly, causing her eyes to flicker up in the middle of her sentence but quickly move back down. Her heart was beating a million miles an hour, her skin flushed, and her mind racing. She had planned to stay, and now she was here, and she was so unsure of herself. It was fooling to think he would want her but… He hadn't suggested she leave, in fact he was just looking at her with his head tilted to the side. She watched as he ran a seemingly frustrated hand through his hair and her anxiety spiked. Would he kick her out? Would he allow her to stay but leave himself? Would he stay with her?… Would he let her talk to him? Hug him? Do much much more than just that? A shiver crept over her skin. He pressed a hand to the door and she was sure he was about to swing it back open and demand she go home, yet he only seemed to ensure that it had closed and take a step forwards. He was moving slowly, cautiously, as if she was an animal to be scared. "Nothing is wrong," she blurting in fear that he had thought her staying was only at the benefit of cramming more study in. he smiled softly and nodded. "I'm glad," he said, tone low and barely above a whisper. He seemed so gentle and it confused her. He hadn't been a necessarily mean teacher, though she had only had him for this year where senior students were granted more leniency than others, but it seemed odd and it was her turn to tilt her head. It seemed as though their expressions took turns, each filtering between flustered and poorly hiding it, and curious as to the intentions of the other.

"What are you doing?" She asked in a small voice as he reached her desk. Her pens were still spread across the desk and her books, pages a mess, and phone thrown to the side. But he didn't respond. He stopped when he stood directly beside her, only half a step from disappearing from her sight as she remained staring forwards. He kept his eyes fixed on the back wall covered in work and posters. "I've been curious," he began. "How have you…" he seemed to reconsider his question before continuing, "enjoyed this class so far?" She turned her head to him, seeing mainly the lower area of his shirt which tucked into his pants unevenly. She blushed despite the so far, however strange, still formal nature of their conversation and layers of clothes between her face and his skin. "it's been good, I guess," she said and then stumbled to correct. "I've really liked it, I meant." He chuckled slightly and nodded. He leant back on his heels, shifting his weight awkwardly before tilting his head to the roof. An exasperated laugh escaped his lips. "It is final year english, there is only so much I can teach you that you would not already have known." She forced a small laugh but concern washed over her face. "Are you ok?" she asked and he grunted, still staring at the ceiling. He hummed and turned towards her desk, her face nearly brushing with his stomach from how close he had managed to position himself. His hands came to rest on her desk and his feet stepped back and he leant down to her. "I'm great, really just.." he was talking through gritted teeth, "really great." He stood up again, remaining further away this time. "And you I imagine aregood, perfectly good. Had class today, decided to stay back now for some extra study I am no doubt interrupting." She lurched forward with her hand to interrupt in fear of her presence being diminished to a simple study session alone. "No!" He met her eyes. "No!" She blushed, "No." She swallowed the ball in her throat. "I didn't stay to study… at least not alone." He hummed again, hands in his pockets and weight shifting around anxiously. Yet, his face was nearly predatory in contrast to the unsure posture. "Then what?" He asked, pupils dilating. "I was hoping," she paused. What had she been hoping for? Did she really expect him to want her like that? He was her teacher and he knew better… she was nobody to him. "Just to see… my grade?" Even to her own ears she sounded unsure and his body seemed to flicker between smug amusement and uncertainty. "Ok," he said as he turned his head away. "I can show you if you really want but you've passed every assessment with flying colours I mean. You really aren't worried about your grades right?" She nodded her head yet they both knew she had nothing to be concerned with.

He crossed the classroom space in as few steps as possible, his head bursting with confusion. Why did she stay then? Did she actually care so much about her grade? Why was that cute to him? Did she not want him like that? Had he been the creep he had been so afraid to be? His hand connected with the cold case of his laptop and he returned just as fast to her desk. He found her grades within seconds and presented them to her on her desk, Clearing a few of the papers out of his way first. "You haven't dipped below a 70 all year I mean," he seemed confused and she blushed harder. His breath was hot on her ear from how close he had learnt in but he seemed entirely unaware of it. She could smell the caffeine on his breath and faded cologne on his neck. It made her dizzy in a way which made her body pulse with excitement. She wondered if he could smell her too?

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lemonade-juley · 2 years

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I think now that I've completed the main story of Reborn(currently on the early sections of the post game, caught the Regis at least), I wanna actually go more in depth into Allyson and her background and whatnot.

Some trigger warnings to abuse, because she did have a very unfortunate childhood. Also long post.

So, Allyson is the only daughter to a very wealthy pair of celebrities from Unova, but was barely known to the public beyond the fact she existed. Her parents wanted her to become a star as well, and from a fairly early age she was forced to do all sorts of training and diets for when she'd be a star. Thing is, she hated it, and wanted nothing to do with being an actor, and would sabotage her own auditions to avoid getting casted. This unfortunately, caused her parents to A. remove her from public appearances, and B. Started to verbally abuse her as well, being seen as and called a "failure". Her parents frequently masked this abuse as being "for her own good".

When she was about 15, she realized she was trans, and attempted to move to being out, but alas this only caused her treatment to get worse. Her father even using his Pokemon to act as punishments anytime she did something "wrong". This is where the majority of her scars came from, and since she was more or less hidden from public, her state was never really found out. She became extremely depressed, and she'd be forced to endure this until she was well into being an adult.

Allyson had a dream of being a Pokemon trainer, and watching battles and the like online from the champions and gym leaders of various regions inspired her. She spent a lot of time studying battles and strategies. She had always imagined herself being strong, having big and cool intimidating Pokemon as her partners. Frankly the dream kept her going, and the hope she'd be able to be a trainer herself made her determined to survive. Allyson also took up music, and has taught herself several instruments, and is also an area she wishes to get good at.

Eventually, when she was 20, she found an opportunity to escape from her home, and stealing some money from her parents, took it and ran. Her parents attempted to find her, seeing as she is essentially a liability to their careers, but she managed to evade them and the police. Allyson was homeless for more than a year, but she did manage to get by surviving thanks to the money she stole, and taking advantage of Pokemon Centers. She also managed to start transitioning during this time. But because all of her money was going towards not starving and keeping herself clothed for the most part, she never really got the opportunity to become a trainer.

Of course, eventually she had heard about Reborn, a region known for how challenging it's gym challenge was. Gathering the last bit of money she had, she bought a ticket to Reborn and from there the main story begins, where she picks her starter, Fiery the Charmander.

Due to her childhood, her ability to socialize certainly wasn't great, but her time between escaping and getting to Reborn helped her a bit. Allyson had decided to keep a very positive attitude despite it all, but she started out being very meek and quiet, and always felt obligated to be useful. Even after the main story has been finished, she's still more meek and easily startled than you'd expect someone who dresses and carries herself the way she does would be, and especially for the Champion of a region. That being said, she can be very aggressive if she's mad, and isn't afraid to put her fist into someone's face if they directly upset her (meteor grunt who shoved Shelly at Ametrine was seeing Duckletts for days). Has a lot of pent up anger.

As far as her relationships with Reborn's cast goes, I won't mention everyone because obviously the cast is a bit too big to do so and this post is already long, but I'll mention some of the important ones that'd be different from canon MC.

For most of the characters younger than her, such as Shelly, Heather, Charlotte, etc., she's very caring and encouraging to them, and a little bit protective, even if she knows damn sure some of them can take of themselves. She's good friends with Victoria and Cain, and with Fern she thinks he's a little bitch but like, doesn't really hate him. Started to see Taka as a friend, until he got a little uh... Stabbed, but after that she does consider him a good friend as well. For the most part everyone else not on Team Meteor (excluding Ace, she vibes with them for the most part), she's on at least good terms with (well, except Amaria, but ya know) even if she's not really friends with them. Notable exception is Saphira who, while she of course also friends with, she's absolutely in love with her. Only people in Reborn's cast she feels extremely negatively to is Sigmund (re: her own backstory), who she hates to an almost extreme degree, and Sirius Clark, who's just a bitch.

#anyways hope y'all enjoyed yet another extremely long post of me rambling about an OC #lemon rambles #pokemon #pokemon reborn #pokemon oc #tw abuse

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etes-secrecy-post · 1 year

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Hi, before I explain my post, I want to say something important.

• What you see my blog has become a major overhaul. And despite the changes, I decided that my 2nd account will be now my artwork blog with a secret twist.

⚠️NEW RULE! (W/ BIGGER TEXT!)⚠️

⚠️ SO PLEASE DO NOT SHARE MY 2nd ACCOUNT TO EVERYONE! THIS SECRECY BLOG OF MINE IS FOR CLOSES FRIENDS ONLY!⚠️

• AND FOR MY CLOSES FRIENDS, DON’T REBLOG IT. INSTEAD, JUST COPY MY LINK AND PASTE IT ON YOUR TUMBLR POST! JUST BE SURE THE IMAGE WILL BE REMOVED AND THE ONLY LEFT WAS THE TEXT.

⚠️ SHARING LINKS, LIKE POSTS, REBLOG POSTS, STEALING MY SNAPSHOT PHOTOS/RECORDED VIDEOS/ARTWORKS (a.k.a. ART THIEVES) OR PLAGIARIZING FROM UNKNOWN TUMBLR STRANGERS WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED, RIGHT AWAY!⚠️

😡 WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT EVER LIKED & REBLOG MY SECRET POST! THIS IS FOR MY SECRET FRIENDS ONLY, NOT YOU! 😡

Okay? Capiche? Make sense? Good, now back to the post…

Hello, hello, my secret friends! Before you scroll down, I want you to watch my recorded video, right away! (Down here! ↓) So, the moment I've been waiting for... 😁

○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○

1st to 3rd Image(s): ↑

• TADA! MY FIRST PLAYSTATION GAME I EVER BOUGHT (IN MY LIFE)! 😁💿🎮 A copy of "Gran Turismo 7" for the PlayStation 4!

Aww yeah! Aren't ya excited, you two?! I hope so!😃

4th to 7th Image(s): ↑

• Now, I ordered this copy of GT7 PS4 game version for ₱ 1,490 discounted (₱ 1,500 off) from Datablitz's PlayStation "Incredible deals sale" [CLICK ME!] on December 27th, 2022 via Lazada PH 🇵🇭🛒🌐. Huge deal for me to get my hands on! The original price of GT7 PS4 copy was ₱ 2,990. 😃🏷️💿🎮

BTW: Pls [CLICK ME!] to see their official Lazada PH seller page.

• Upon opening the case, the GT7 PS4 version has two discs instead of one (like you've seen in other PS4 CD games). And speaking of one disc, the PS5 version of GT7 has the latter. Pretty interesting to see here, with the last recorded was the "GT Sport Spec II" for the PS4 also has two discs, which is very uncommon for some [CLICK ME!]. But, the most memorable in the Gran Turismo franchise was GT2 in 1999 (for the PS1), where they shipped two discs; the Arcade mode disc, and the Simulation mode disc. If you want more information about GT7's format disc, then please [CLICK ME!].

• I've been there before albeit a fake pirated disc because I can't afford an original PS1 disc. And decades later (after passing through PS gen consoles), I managed to snag an original PlayStation copy game disc using my funds! Isn't it cool owning two discs in one game, huh you two!? 😁

8th to 10th Image(s): ↑

• Finally, side comparison with my existing copy of GT Sport PS4 game gifted by my little bro on December 25th, 2020 (Christmas Day). 😊🎁🎄

• Now, I haven't finish my GT Sport progress, I'm still dealing with "Circuit Experience", as well as league races & the addition of "Lewis Hamilton Time Trial Challenge". Although, the latter, I need to pony up some dough for the PSN credits & buy this DLC expansion. You know, if only it could add it to the game already, then I don't have to pay extra. 😕 Damn, I want a challenge "The Maestro" himself.

Fun fact: Did you know, that I'm a fan of (Sir) Lewis Hamilton? 😁 🇬🇧🏎️ I remember seeing him on TV screen live when he drives the Mclaren F1 team back in 2007. Yes, at the time, Lewis was part of the Mclaren F1 team, and he helped the team to dominate the F1 team competition. As of 2023, Lewis was part of the "Mercedes-AMG Petronas F1 Team" 🏎️🇬🇧 since debut in 2012 (after he departure from the Mclaren F1 team).

Another Fact: Did you know, that you can transfer your GT Sport save data to GT7? 🙂💾➡️💾That's right! Much like other previous GT installments, I can carry my existing GT Sport save data game to a new GT installment instead of creating new data for GT7 from scratch. And that's exactly what I'm gonna attempt. 😁

Scanned Image [using Canon CanoScan Lide 220]: ↑

• Finally, I scanned this beautiful image from the art cover. Featuring the debut of the beautiful Porsche 917K '70. 😁🏎️🇩🇪

11th Image: ↑

• And lastly, I want a pointed out something... I noticed, there was a broken tooth upon opening the disc cover of the same racing game. 😕 So, what did I do? Well, I snapped that piece & glue it with super glue, along with scotch tape to hold it up in place before I snap the disc tray like you've seen in this picture. 🙂

Overall:

• I love owning an original game copy, and this GT7 for the PS4 is no exception. 😁💿🎮 And don't worry, I will finish my GT Sport progress if I have free time (of course) before I proceed to the new Gran Turismo installment! I can't wait to drive old & new cars, as well as other features. Are you excited, you four?

Spot 🐶🏎️: DAMN, DUDE! You got the copy of GT7 for the PS4! Nice! 😃

Riya 🐰🏎️: SSSSWEEET! 😃 Our favorite childhood game comes to PS4! And since we have PS5 on our living room, we can't wait to race you, along with my family blood! Wouldn't ya agree?

Miya 🐰🐻🔋: Yeah-yuh! I do owned a Gran Turismo game on my retro PS consoles! 😄 And now, we have our hands on the new Gran Turismo game!

Bonn 🐰🚹: Congrats to our creator! 😁 You finally getting hands on the copy of the original recent Gran Turismo game! Time to start up our PS Plus for online multiplayer, and we're looking forward to see you, bud. Make the best driver win! 😊👍

Me 🇵🇭: Hehe yeah, thanks. 😅 If only I have a PS Plus subscription though, then I'll definitely gonna meet you guys, as well as my two buds (Alex & Carmen).

Well, that’s all for now. If you haven’t seen my GT Sport progress, then I’ll provide some links down below. ↓😉

My GT Sport Gameplay:

• Part 1 [June 5, 2021]

• Part 2 [June 5, 2021]

• Part 3 [June 5, 2021]

• Part 4 [June 17, 2021]

• Part 5 [June 17, 2021]

• Part 6 [October 21, 2021]

• Part 7 [December 25, 2021]

• Part 8 [January 22, 2022]

• Part 9 [January 22, 2022]

• Part 10 [January 23, 2022]

• Part 11 [February 19, 2022]

• Part 11.5 [February 19, 2022]

• Part 12 [Mar 26, 2022]

• Part 13 [Mar 26, 2022]

• Part 13.5 [Mar 26, 2022]

And also, this one → My PSN Wrap-Up 2022 stats [Dec 21st, 2022]

Tagged: @leapant

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lunaslogs · 9 months

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August 18-19 HAUL

So, for the first time in literal months, I went to stay the weekend at my uncle's house for something we call "staycation" which is basically staying over for a few days and going places together. It's our little family thing. We decided to go to the American Dream Mall on Friday, August 18 and a local town mall on Saturday, August 19. In between those two days, I managed to get a bag full of snacks that were sure going to screw with my diet for the weekend and some clothes that will serve me well for the first few weeks of school in 2 weeks.

FIRST, THE SNACKS! I am a HUGE fan of everything Sanrio and ramen noodles so when I found out that hello kitty actually had a little collab with Prince Katsu, I HAD TO get it. Obviously, I blame capitalism for taking my money because they literally slapped Hello Kitty onto a ramen noodle cup and expected me to walk out of the store without it. It was actually really good! The little vegetables and "spice" stuff came in little packets and stuff and I'm not gonna lie, the "spice" wasn't really spicy. It was, however, a little tangy. I got it on Friday at American Dream and I saw more of those little ramen cups of Saturday at the local mall so I'm assuming it's in very high demand (and for very good reason.) I got this Japanese soda in this cute little bottle from F.Y.E (For Your Entertainment) and I actually got one last year when we went! But I got a watermelon flavor one this time, I think I got just like, a regular melon flavor last year. But I def wanna start a little bottle collection of them, the bottles are so cute. The soda reminds me exactly of a freshly unwrapped watermelon flavored jolly rancher, but carbonated.

I got 2 boxes of Pocky. One was the regular cookies n crème flavor (my favorite btw) and the other one was original chocolate. The difference? Not just the flavor. But the size. Omg, THE CHOCOLATE ONES WERE LITTERALLY GIANT! No lie, it literally said "giant" on the box. It was like, 10 times the size of a normal pocky stick. They tasted almost the same, but I felt like I could taste more of the biscuit than the chocolate but that's what happens when you super size a snack like that.

I got a share size bag of KitKat thins (KitKat is one of my all time favorite chocolates) They were individually wrapped which I hated but I did have a little cup to put all the wrappers into because I was too lazy to get up and throw them all out in the actual trash can. My cousins did end up stealing some of them so I didn't completely finish them on my own (despite the fact that I really wanted to) but I would totally get them again just so I can add to the little snack drawer in my room. And last for the snack section, I got a hello kitty boba milk tea kit because I love boba but I've always wanted to try making it at home. It came with 4 paper boba straws, 4 tapioca pearl packets, and 4 milk tea powder packets. Luckily the instructions was on the box and it wasn't some million page long paper of directions because I totally would have lost it. Honestly, the boba was really good. I did have to leave it in my fridge to cool a little bit (I like it cold okay) but I would totally buy six more boxes just so I can make some every day.

AND NOW, LAS COSAS! (aka just little things I bought.)

I BOUGHT MY FIRST EVER KPOP ALBUM! Now, I've been into Kpop for around 4 years (got into it in august 2019) and over the course of these 4 years, I've explored already existing groups, disbanded groups, soloists, newly debuted groups, survival shows, and even groups from other generations. But as of the past two years, I really found myself gravitating towards a soloist named AleXa. She's a former contestant from a survival show that aired back in 2016 called Produce 101. I absolutely LOVE her music and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't tried to cover a few of them. But when she came out with "Girls In Vogue" last November, I knew I HAD to get it. Now almost a year later, IT'S LITERALLY IN MY ROOM! The pictures from the photoshoots look so beautiful, AleXa looks so good! The photocards are so cute, I keep one in my phone case. My favorite song from the album is probably either "Back In Vogue" or "Please Try Again" but I absolutely ADORE her little collab with Moonbyul from MAMAMOO (she's literally my bias) it was practically a musical match made in heaven.

Now, I'm a person who likes dressing both masculine and feminine, however I do mainly present feminine. Unfortunately, I do still have a bit of a "girly" weakness aka shiny sparkly things mean I want it in my hands. So, when I saw these two little boxes of press on nails, I had to get them. Now, I have friends who go out and get actual acrylics and drop $80 or $100 dollars for them but as someone who is both broke and gets tired of things very easily, press on nails just feel easier to deal with. I got one box of press ons (24 nails total) that have a little French tip and honestly, they look cute. I haven't tried them on yet but I'll give an update on when I do. I'm just hoping they look cute on my nails when I put them on. Then there's the second box that has little diamonds on the "cuticle" part of it (idk how nails work) but it's only for the ring finger and maybe the thumb? Or pinky? I haven't tried either of them yet but when I do, I'll update.

I'M THE BIGGEST FAN OF RWBY THAT I KNOW IRL AND WHEN I SAW THE MANGA, I HAD TO GET THEM ASAP! I already have an almost complete collection of the RWBY official anthology, I still need the fifth one in order for it to be complete. Then, I found the first book of Bunta Kinami's RWBY manga and I got it! It's funny because last year during winter break, I found the second one but I couldn't find the first. I couldn't buy it last year because I had already spent majority of my money at other stores so by the time I saw it, I was too broke to get it. Now this year, I find the first one but the second one is nowhere to be found! I did end up buying the first book though. I was able to find the amazon listing for the second book and a few others so I'm hoping those will come in very soon! I also got Shirow Miwa's RWBY manga! So, I now have SIX RWBY manga books in my collection with more to come!

I have a literal collection of stuffed animals. I'm sure everyone has one or has had one before but I have literally kept every single stuffed animal I have ever owned. Big, small, medium, jumbo, mini, you name it. Stuffed animals were a huge part of my childhood. Growing up as a little kid, being relentlessly bullied in school and fighting with my mom over childish things, my main friends were my stuffed animals. One of my favorites was this little mint green TY teddy bear. I absolutely adored it. So, when I went to True Believers and saw a pink cherry blossom TY teddy bear, you already know I had to have it. Apparently, her name is Sakura and she's a Japanese exclusive! She is so soft and cute and adorable and she DEFINITELY makes for a good cuddle buddy if you're someone who likes cuddling with stuffed animals.

I got this cute little fake gold headband with butterflies and rhinestones on it and it is the cutest thing I could ever put on my head. I lowkey felt like a Disney Princess. It's two headbands but they join together at the end to make it one headband so it's cute. I think I have a dress or something that might work with it in the future.

Now, you know I had to save the best for last. THE CLOTHES!

I know a lot of people in a lot of places have already started school but I don't start until the 7th of next month. I have a little over 2 weeks to get myself together. I couldn't just walk into a new school year with old fits. So, I went to Forever 21 and Hot Topic to pick up some new shirts, pants, and a jacket or two to start me off strong.

First the hot topic stuff (only two pieces)

I got this black and white striped long sleeve shirt on it with a skull on the upper left part of the chest and I am a total HOE when it comes to stripes. I genuinely had no idea just how many striped shirts I owned until I went back home and started putting all of the clothes away. It brings out the masc side of me, which I really like. Then I got this Monster High Crop Top Hoodie WHICH I'M FUCKING OBSESSED WITH BECAUSE IT HAS THUMB HOLES AT THE END OF THE SLEEVES! There was no way I was walking out of that store without buying it. It has the Monster High logo on the left shoulder and a little pink heart on the bottom right. AND THE STRINGS HAVE LITTLE BLACK BOWS ABOVE THE KNOTS! The hoodie def gives Draulaura which is perfect because I was absolutely OBSESSED with Draulaura when I was a little kid (I was quite literally the conductor of the Draudeen/Clawlaura train) so I got it. It's so comfy, bro-

NOW FOR THE FORVER 21 CLOTHES!

So I got this little "set" if you will of this military green jacket and ripped pants and when I tell you, it was the best purchase I have ever made, I am not even joking. GREEN IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE COLORS BUT THERE IS NO SHADE OF GREEN I ADORE MORE THAN MILITARY/FOREST GREEN AND OMG IT LOOK SO GOOD! The jacket is denim and the sleeves are a liiiiiiittle bit long but the jacket fits me perfectly fine. I'm not exactly tall so my arms don't reach all the way but I couldn't get a small or else the whole jacket would look and feel small on me so I went with the medium instead. THE PANTS THO?!! Okay, so they're styled like sweatpants but they aren't sweatpants, they just have the stretchy waistband with the string and stuff. But the knees are ripped and it makes me feel cool.

I got this gray shirt that says "classic" on it and it has little holes (it's supposed to be that way, I swear, I saw the other shirts of different sizes having the same holes) and it's so cute. I paired it with the green jacket and green pants and it works! But I can't really wear the shirt with the jacket because the jacket covers most of the letters and all you see is "ass" and I don't feel like getting dress coded and suspended for "offensive speech" but if I just wore the shirt by it'self without the jacket, it's so freaking cute.

NEXT UP WE HAVE SOME BEIGE PANTS! Now, I wasn't in the guys section which made this so much better because the pockets are actual pockets. Not those pockets on usual pants or jeans that are like an inch and a half deep, I MEAN I CAN FIT MY WHOLE HAND IN THE POCKET! I FOUND POCKETS! IN THE WOMENS SECTION! The pants also have these fake suspenders/ random straps attached which honestly make it look so much cuter. They fit really well and I have a lot of white shirts that could totally work with the pants. The material was surprisingly a little soft for them being jeans, yk? LASTLY, WE HAVE A CREAMY WHITE SHORT SLEEVE TURTLE NECK THAT I BOUGHT TO MATCH THE BEIGE PANTS! As someone who isn't the biggest fan of turtlenecks, this lowkey made me change my mind. So, it's not completely a turtle neck, it has a zipper that goes down the middle in the front to adjust it to your liking. The zipper is really convenient, I tried the turtleneck style but I also zipped it down enough to make it like a collar which made it 10 times better. The top has black lines on the left and right sides IN THE FRONT and a text on the back saying "NEW YORK NYC EST. 1964" and it's the cutest top I've ever gotten. I've also been trying to branch out in terms of my style so I feel like this top really helps that.

If you've made it this far, then thank you for ever even being interested in this little haul and my excited outbursts in text form! I promise there will definitely be more to come. But for now, this is Luna, Logging off!

#LunasLogs #LunaLoggingOff

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a-bit-too-much-of-a-pokemon-fan · 1 year

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Pokémon B2W2: Hard Game. Don't Blind Nuzlocke it.

Despite being a bit too much of a Pokémon fan, until recently I had never played White 2. I played White, sure, but I don't think I understood in 2012 that these games were fantastic sequels to what I now think is my favorite game in the series. I was a stupid kid. This past summer, I wanted to make a change.

I looked on eBay for a used copy. Holy price scalping, Batman, is that a mess. I'm sorry, $80+ for a used ten year old Nintendo DS game? Bullshit. I got White 2 from the library instead. Yeah fun fact, your library probably has video games. Check it out.

I've already shared the amazing tale of Ponyboy, the previous user of that particular White 2 cartridge. But I reset the save with the intention to do a blind Nuzlocke. I had heard that B2W2 are among the hardest games in the series even on vanilla runs, so I went to r/Nuzlocke to ask for advice. One person very wisely commented "Hard game. Don't blind Nuzlocke it."

Instead of listen to them and just enjoy a vanilla first ever run of the game, I made a compromise. If it's so difficult, why not give each Pokémon two lives? Yeah, I know, cheating in possibly the most egregious way. I did keep track of it well, though. Mon dies the first time, mark it with a "CAUTION" triangle. It dies the second time, mark it with a circle--which looks like a stop sign on the DS screen--to show that its life has come to an end.

And you know what? It was certainly difficult. I was losing Pokémon left and right. I was playing with level caps, but not knowing what mons those opponents had. The one thing I "spoiled" myself on was wild Pokémon locations and levels, so I could route my encounters. That's how i found out about the guaranteed Eevee encounter in the Castelia City Park (repel at level 18 in the light grass, 19 in the dark grass).

I somehow managed to make it all the way to the Elite Four. My team wasn't amazing but it had some star players, Thaniel the Vaporeon among them. I took on Shauntal and Grimmsley, just scraping by. Then I went to Marshall. He did not let up. I eventually wiped. I lost my run. Most of my team had already used up their one life, but even to that point I ad never wiped in a battle.

Well, shit. It was my first time playing the game, and hell if I just don't finish it before returning it to the library. So I cheated again and took on the Elite Four once more. This time I beat all four, losing my entire team except Ultaria the Altaria. I honestly forget why I named her that. So there I was, standing in the Unova Pokémon League trying to figure out how I was going to beat Iris with a single Pokémon that happens to be weak to her STAB moves.

It's simple, really. I just force fed Ultaria every rare candy in my bag, went into battle, and set up with X Items to max out her stats. Then I swept. Was this the most legitimate way to Nuzlocke a game? Hell no. But did I have fun? Definitely. I think I wish that I had just done a vanilla run first to enjoy the game at my own pace and not have to constantly grind up new teams. That definitely informed my choice to do a vanilla run of Violet before Nuzlocking it.

A few months ago I bought a reproduction copy of White 2 and tried to Nuzlocke it again. That's a story for another post, though.

#nuzlocke #nuzlocke story #pokemon b2w2 #pokemon

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drspenxerreid · 2 years

Text

-Unexpected-

I was so tired that I thought I may genuinely pass out, the familiar grogginess of exhaustion was clouding my thoughts. I slumped my jaw upon my hands and stared down at the textbook before me, I'd been unusually tired lately. For someone who did so well in high school, college was taking it out of me. I used to be great at school but recently I'd been so tired, my head constantly foggy.

It go so bad that I was practically half asleep when a steaming mug was placed by my textbook.

I looked up from the beverage to see Spencer, my wonderful college boyfriend, smiling down at me with sympathy. It made sense, I'm sure I looked rough- sleep deprived and messy haired as I scrawled study notes.

I was sprawled across our couch, working slowly. Spencer thought studying anywhere but a well set up desk was almost outrageous but I didn't care, I had things to get done and the lounge was comfier than our office chairs. He gave me an exasperated look but soon smiled sweetly.

Spencer and I were a happy couple. We met at the library in my first year of college. I first saw him as he attempted to borrow more books than Cal Tech's limit allowed, while I was desperately trying to understand college level chemistry. Something about seeing him all flustered and nervous made me feel bad enough to borrow the extra books for him, he, who already had a PHD in chemistry and was then working on a PHD in physics, insisted he help me with my study in order to repay me.

We kept seeing each other in the library throughout that semester, we flirted clumsily over chemistry for that time until one day he'd finally mustered the courage to ask me out. We'd been together ever since, being the youngest students (and Spencer, the nerdiest) meant we really only had each other. I was grateful everyday that I'd found him. He was the perfect boyfriend, we studied together and grew closer over books and tea.

Now though, we were both 22 and on completely different academic endeavours than when we'd first met. He was completing a BA in psychology and attending the FBI academy, while I was double majoring in Philosophy and Contemporary Literature, hoping to become a professor. Despite the radical changes our lives had been subject to in the four years of our relationship, Spencer and I were still head over heels in love.

He practically never slept and so that night, as I studied busily- he looked much more put together than I did. His light brown hair was slicked behind his ears and his big brown eyes sparkled sweetly at me. I took a sip of the drink he'd made me, of course it was hot chocolate, my favourite- and I smiled.

"Mm thank you. I've been a little nauseas." I said tiredly and curled my hands around the mug. He sat beside me rigidly and kissed my temple quickly.

"That may not be a good idea. While milk can help nausea by providing a temporary buffer for gastric acid, it also increases production of said acid, so the relief may be temporary." Spencer explained, gesturing with his tanned, slender hands as he happily rattled of the fact. I shrugged and smiled up at him.

"I'll take temporary relief, I've gotta finish this revision or I'm going to fail." I sighed softly at him, looking up at his pretty face. He frowned, his smooth skin creasing by his lips.

"Don't overwork yourself, you know you'll do well in the exam. Stop studying and come to bed." He frowned and leant his head on my shoulder, I could feel his soft hair against my neck and I brushed my hand against his. He smelled of a mix of the cologne I'd bought him for his last birthday and the old books he spent most of his time with. I rolled my eyes at him and pushed my hand into his soft hair, scratching lightly at his scalp.

"Not everyone is a genius like you." I mumbled, he was ridiculously smart as everyone knew but he was also so much more. Spencer was kind, funny, a surprisingly good magician and basically my soulmate.

"No, but you certainly are." He mumbled with a sweet smiled, turning his head to kiss me softly. I couldn't help but kiss him back, he cradled my face in his hands and let his eyes flutter closed, his eyelashes brushing against my cheek.

"Still want me to come to bed?" I asked with an innocent smirk. He nodded and snaked his arms around my waist, squeezing me as he pulled me from the couch. Both of us giggling against each other as he placed small kisses all over my face and neck.

"Absolutely."

——-

My stomach dropped as I saw the two blue lines, bright as day against the plastic white test. It had been 6 weeks since my last period, I was nauseas every waking moment and I was so emotional that I was biting Spencer's head off practically every day. The poor guy had no idea why I was being so nasty lately. My hands were shaking so much I could barely see the positive result, still it was there and I knew it was. I knew I was pregnant before I took the test, my period had always been like clockwork. On time and regular. I was almost never nauseas and would like to think I'm always nice to Spencer.

I almost bit my lips raw trying to think of a way to tell him. I knew I wanted to keep the baby, I could afford to have a baby and could still pursue my career if I had one. It wasn't planned but I knew I wanted to keep it, my worry was how Spencer would react. He'd always wanted to be a dad but he'd also always wanted so much more, to go to the fbi, to become a profiler- he was so young, he had so much of his life ahead of him. I didn't want him to feel trapped by this pregnancy, that being said- it was clear I did have to tell him.

I knew he'd be supportive, I just wanted to make sure he was happy. I didn't want him to stay because it was 'the right thing to do' I refused to hold him back in any way.

Just as I started to play through all the potential outcomes of this situation in my head (something I did often) Spencer scrambled in the front door excitedly. He had this grin plastered across his face that made me weak in the knees, I watched him as his face lit up the moment he saw me. I couldn't help but smile back at him, waiting for an explanation for his cheesy grin.

"Y/N, I got accepted! I'm going to be a profiler, with Agent Gideon- you know, the one I told you about? I'm- so excited, in all fairness I'm not starting until next year when I'm certified and the agent I'm replacing starts his new assignment- buutt it's happening officially." He blurted out in a gush and gambolled over to me, gazing down at me as he waited for me to respond. I chuckled on a proud smiled and cradled his face in my hands.

"I'm so happy for you, I know how much you want this. You deserve it honey." I said with a grin that was genuine- full of adoration for the man who stood before me.

His gestures were boyish and full of excitement, his hands moving as he gesticulated his points and awkwardly word vomited everything he was thinking. I loved his rambles, he used to be insecure of them, as if I could ever be bored by something he said. I bit my lip nervously and stroked his cheek.

"So when do you officially start?" I asked him and moved my hands to my sides. He grinned somehow wider and sighed in disbelief, he'd been working so hard for this, I wasn't surprised he was shocked now that he was finally going to be a profiler.

"November." He smiled softly. 10 months from now.

"The baby will be about 8 weeks old by then..." I mumbled to myself, my eyes widening when I processed the fact that I'd said that aloud. Spencer's face dropped in shock, his hands went slack and his eyes were focused on me, full of confusion.

"Wha- what baby?" He asked me quietly. I sighed shakily, my heart galloping in my chest. I pressed my lips together.

"Ours... I'm pregnant." I admitted quietly, feeling a slight relief from getting it off my chest. He stiffened and blinked a few times.

"Pregnant?" He asked quietly, his voice quiet and his face smooth with shock. I gulped and let my hands hover over my stomach. I couldn't tell anything from his expression, couldn't discern happiness, fear or anger- instead I just saw his face completely blank, processing the information slowly.

I nodded and blinked a few times.

"8 weeks." I added quickly. He pursed his lips and nodded as he took in the announcement.

"This is... great." He breathed finally. I slouched in surprise as if playing Russian roulette and the last shot was empty.

"Great? You're happy?" I asked him, my voice hiding hints of excitement.

He nodded vigorously.

"I've always wanted a family with you- granted I didn't expect it to be so soon but it's okay, this is going to be good." He insisted and kissed me softly, his lips tasted of peppermint. I smiled and pressed my forehead against his.

"Fatigue, nausea, cravings- you biting my head off for the past five weeks, I should have known." He sighed and placed his hands on my shoulders, I pushed his hair behind his ears and grinned at him.

"I love you Spence."

———

"Do you have your keys?" Spencer asked loudly as he grabbed his satchel. We were getting ready to go to my 15 week scan, this pregnancy was flying by- we were already finding out the sex of the baby. I hadn't gotten a scan since 8 weeks due to studying and work and the original scan had been blurry, which upset Spencer but this time we'd see our baby and find out it's sex, I was admittedly more excited than I should have been. I didn't care whether it was a boy or a girl but I still wanted to know, I wanted to buy cute baby clothes and tell my family.

"Yes!"

"Okay, what about wipes- you know you hate the ultrasound jelly."

"Yes!"

"Snacks for nausea?"

"I've got everything Spencer."

"Water bottle?"

"Yes, yes! Let's go. I'm too excited to wait around here." I insisted, standing by the front door, waiting to leave. Spencer smiled and pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. He snuck his arm around my waist and kissed my forehead.

We drove to the clinic in silence, both too nervously excited to say much. It was only when I was laid on the bench, jelly spread across my already large baby bump that Spencer opened his mouth.

"I can't believe this is happening." He murmured and tried to get a look at the screen that was angled away from us. My knees were angled two ears each other as the ultrasound tech moved the plastic probe over my stomach.

Spencer's hand was curled around mine, tracing light circles below my thumb.

"We're having a baby." I sighed in surprise and stared at the ceiling. There was no denying it, I was very visibly pregnant- my stomach bulging over my pant line and a patch of pigmentation growing below my belly button.

"Babies, actually." The ultrasound tech mused happily and glanced at us. Spencer and I glared shocked at each other and then at the technician.

"B-babies- plural?" Spencer asked nervously and clasped his hands together. The tech nodded and spun the screen around to us, pointing out the babies on the screen, now that I could see it, it was impossible to miss them both.

"But wouldn't we have seen them on the 8 week scan?" I asked with nervousness lacing my voice. She shrugged and smiled at us.

"They can be missed, especially since baby b seems to like hiding behind their sibling." She grinned, pointing once again to the scan.

My chest tightened and I squeezed my eyes shut.

"We're having twins?" I asked with a confused huff. She nodded and snapped a few pictures of us. Spencer's eyes were glued to the screen, his face blank with shock and disbelief. I tried to suppress my feelings but tears were brimming my eyes, I could handle one baby but twins seemed impossibly daunting. I knew how hard twins would be, I knew the risks of pre term labour, twin-twin transfusion and all the rest of it and yet I was still excited.

I wasn't sure whether it was just some kind of evolutionary response but I was flooded with a thrilled sort of feeling. I was having two of Spencer's babies and in less than 6 months.

"Wow... monozygotic twins occur in only about 1 in 250 pregnancies." Spencer whispered partially to himself. I smiled and shook my head.

"Still think this parenting thing is a good idea?" I asked breathlessly. He grinned and squeezed my hand tightly.

"No, it's not but still- this will be the best thing we ever do." He chuckled and bit his lip nervously, looking down at me and then my stomach. I smiled shyly at him and let out a deep breath.

"Would you like to know the sex?" Our ultrasound technician asked, she fiddled with the button at the bottom of her light blue uniform for a moment before smiling at us. We both nodded vigorously, still amazed by the screen that showed our babies- just existing inside of me.

"You're having two little girls!" She cheered and beamed at us. I gasped lightly and pressed my hands over my face in excitement.

"Did you hear that Spence? Two baby girls." I laughed and practically crushed his hand in mine.

He nodded and looked at me wordlessly. He was perhaps in shock as he didn't say much for the rest of the appointment. I cleaned myself up with the wipes he'd reminded me about earlier and then gotten tidied up, meeting him in the car park where he stood quietly.

"We're having two babies." He murmured softly. I nodded and grabbed his hands in mine.

"We sure are."

"I'm- I'm thrilled."

———

"Okay- so when talking about a murderer, what's the difference between a stressor and a trigger?" I asked Spencer with a textbook open on my massive belly. I was somehow already 35 weeks pregnant and my baby bump was huge, I felt like a penguin- waddling around my home and bumping into every corner and shelf.

Spencer was studying to build his profiling skills which meant that I was offering to quiz him because recalling was a brilliant form of studying.

"That's easy, a stressor is a large event that occurs to an unsub and changes their life in such a dramatic way it can alter their psychology but it doesn't make them a murderer, it makes them capable of killing. A trigger is an event that directly leads to the unsub committing murder, it's a compounding event and usually much less severe than a stressor." Spencer blurted as he rubbed my feet that were sore and swollen. I was lying on the lounge with my feet in his lap and his book in front of my face. I smiled at him and rubbed my stomach, I sighed as I felt the babies kicking and rolling around inside me.

"Correct." I groaned and held my bump as a wave of discomfort rolled over me. Being pregnant was difficult, these babies were as active as athletes and my entire body hurt all the time, today more than usual.

"You alright?" He asked me quietly and stroked my shin softly. His soft hands were squeezing my leg and he looked at me sympathetically. I nodded and smiled breathlessly at him.

"They're kicking like crazy, I feel like a punching bag." I mumbled and tilted my head back as my babies kicked so hard it sent pain down my spine and across my stomach.

Spencer placed his hand on my belly over my sun dress and shrugged.

"I can't feel them, must be kicking in the wrong direction." He said softly and smiled at me, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. I smiled and placed my hands on the one of his that laid flat on my bump.

"Dr Spencer Reid, tell me the most likely form of childhood trauma a killer targeting specifically blonde middle aged women may have experienced." I said confidently despite the pain in my back and stomach.

"The killer would most likely have been abandoned by a blonde woman as a child- specially a mother who may have either died or left. The angrier the unsub is at this abandonment, the more likely torture is present." He answered mindlessly, his eyes grazing over me and his hands tracing patterns on my swollen stomach.

"Pleasant. I'm in pain, I need to walk." I grumbled and put my hands on my stomach before pulling myself out of my seated position. The movement was slow, Spencer put out his arm to help stabilise me as I yanked my massive body from the couch.

"Let me pace with you." He said as he stood up and placed his hand on the small of my back, helping get me up and moving.

We did this often, walk around the house together to help the ache in my hips and stomach.

"New question, what are the steps to putting an infant to sleep?" I asked with a smile and rubbed my hips that were aching, sending cramps into my legs. Spencer chuckled and caressed my shoulder.

"Make sure the baby is burped and changed, put her either in a sleep sack or swaddle her in a baby blanket, make sure that the crib is otherwise completely empty." He rattled off the fact perfectly. I'd been quizzing him on baby things just as much as profiling things, I nodded at his answer and kissed his cheek.

"Tell me about the cry it out method." I said as I breathed heavily and braced myself with Spencer's arm.

"The cry it out method is when you don't disturb a crying baby in her crib in order to teach her to self soothe and we hate this method because it can lead to mild abandonment issues and has even been linked to increased cases of mental illness later in life." He said quietly and kissed my temple, I nodded and grinned despite pain in my ribs and hips. Spencer was going to be a brilliant father, even if he'd be working most of the time.

It was when I went to take the next step that I felt it, a dribble down my leg before a gush down my thighs. I gasped and stared at Spencer. He glanced at me nervously and stroked my cheek.

"What's wrong?" He asked me quietly, looking into my eyes and placing his hand by my head.

"I- My- my water broke." I stuttered and grabbed my stomach. Spencer's jaw clenched and he sped to the living room, grabbing two large colourful bags and slinging them over his shoulders. The baby bag and my bag, he'd insisted they be packed and ready for hospital a month before my due date.

"No... I can't have our babies today- I, it's two weeks before the due date and, and- I have class tomorrow, an assignment due." I said in a stammer and clutched at my aching stomach. Spencer grabbed my shoulders and shushed me softly.

"It's okay, it's all going to be okay. Our babies are ready to meet us." He said sweetly to me and brushed my cheek with his knuckles, nervousness was evident in his voice despite his calm manner. I shook my head, my lip quivering.

"I'm to carrying to 37 weeks." I insisted and clutched his arm tightly. He shook his head, his hands were shaking as he came to term with the idea of us having two babies in the next few hours.

"If the membrane has ruptured- these babies are coming now... You can do this." He promised me and rubbed the small of my back, gesturing me out the front door before I could protest. I gripped my stomach that was mountainous compared to the rest of my body and stumbled to our small silver car- just before I got in I spun to Spencer with an anxious look on my face.

"The car seats! We need to install the car seats... they can't come home otherwise." I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut.

"No, no. I installed the car seats yesterday. Just get in- please." Spencer begged and gestured me into the front seat. I gritted my teeth and slowly pulled my seatbelt on. Spencer hopped in the drivers seat and sped out of our driveway. I chewed on my lip as the adrenaline of the realisation I was in labour, started to wear off and the real pain hit me.

"H-hurry up Spencer and don't let them cut me open unless something is really wrong- I don't want a c-section." I stuttered and gripped the side of the seat I was in. Spencer nodded and grabbed my knee, stroking the skin there.

"I'll do everything I can to prevent a c-section. I'm gonna be here beside you the whole time." He insisted and took a sharp left, pain ripped through me. My heart was racing in my chest and the pain became so bad so quickly I felt like I couldn't breathe. I gasped and gripped Spencer's arm, my fingers digging into his skin.

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry it just hurts." I whimpered, my grip unrelenting on his arm. He shook his head and smiled.

"It's okay honey, I'm here for you. We'll call your mom and your sister when we get to the hospital yeah?" Spencer asked and sped up slightly. I threw my head back and gritted my teeth.

"Okay- okay- just don't- dont- leave me."

Spencer

My heart was racing against my ribs, it thumped so hard I thought it may escape from my throat. I was sat by Y/N's bed, my large hand wrapped around her smaller one. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her hand shook in mine, we'd been in the delivery room for three hours- she was so beautiful, as she worked to bring our babies into the world, all I could see was the strength she had. Every time she looked at me, I felt blessed. I was so irrevocably in love with her, I loved her- my soul mate and I loved our babies.

Throughout the pregnancy I worried she'd be left alone with our babies too much when I was with the FBI. I was worried she'd grow to resent me or that in the time I was gone she'd find someone better- she'd leave me. However, when I stayed by her side as she was giving birth to our children, I had no worries. I was full of love and hope for our future- I was focused wholly on her.

"I can't- I can't do this any more." Y/N sighed and threw her head back, squeezing my hand so tightly I thought my fingers may break. She was gasping and squeezing her eyes shut.

"Look you're almost in the second stage of labour, right now you're still working up to producing enough oxytocin to contract enough to dilate fully." I blurted and stroked her hand. She groaned through her teeth and glared at me.

"I think. I am. Contracting. Enough." She grunted shuffled down. She was right of course, there was nothing could do for her right now. I wanted to help her through this but really there was nothing I could do to ease this pain.

"I'm sorry honey, tell me to shut up if you need to." I murmured and looked at her doctor who was checking her dilation, she smiled sweetly and stroked Y/N's leg.

"She's right, You're ten centimetres dilated. I need you ready to push on this next contraction." The Dr grinned at her reassuringly. She nodded and glanced at me with fear in her eyes.

"Don't leave me." She whispered, I pushed a lock of sweaty hair from her forehead and kissed the salty skin.

"I'll never leave you." I assured her and kissed her temple before grabbing her left hand in both of mine and smiling excitedly at her.

She closed her eyes and let out a strangled, pained noise, pushing as hard as her small body could manage. I gritted my teeth as I saw tears falling from her eyes, I wish there was more I could do.

"Our first baby is almost here!" The Dr cheered and before I knew it a tiny, screaming baby was being placed against my lover's chest. She smiled and pursed her lips to hold back tears of joy. I gasped as I felt a ball of emotion in my diaphragm. I was a dad. I was actually a dad.

Y/N cried softly- her attempts to keep her tears at bay were unsuccessful- she stared lovingly into our baby's eyes.

"Take a break, you deserve it. You have a minute or so before baby B needs to be delivered." Her Dr said proudly as she stared at both of us.

Tears brimmed my eyes as I glanced at my baby, gurgling and balling her tiny hands into fists as my girlfriend held her pressed to her chest.

"I think you're Ada, huh?" I asked sweetly, Y/N smiled and cried quietly, nodding in agreement. We'd decided to name the babies after our favourite scientists, Ada Lovelace and Alice Ball. I shook as she passed Ada to me, shaking my head softly.

"She's so little." I whispered. Y/N smiled and shook her head.

I got to cut the cord, which was a wholly surreal experience.

"Take her, I can't hold her much longer- her little sister is coming quickly." She said, her voice becoming more and more shaky. I held my hands out and took our baby from her arms.

I gasped quietly as I stared into Ada's eyes. She was quieting down and gurgling quietly. Looking at her was unlike anything else- It was like looking into the entire universe. I'd studied physics, astronomy, astrophysics- I knew a ridiculous amount about the galaxies, I'd studied them for years and yet seeing my baby was the first time I seemed to understand it all.

I held Ada in my left arm and used my right hand to squeeze Y/N's as she clenched her jaw, getting ready for Alice.

"Just a little longer honey- just a little longer and then we'll have our babies." I promised her and stroked her hand softly. She rolled her head to the side and pushed as the doctor asked her to. Without a minute passing by, the room was filled with another set of screams.

I rocked Ada softly and cradled her head with my hand.

"I don't- I don't feel very good." I heard Y/N say softly before I glanced over at her. She was blanched, clammy and pale. I knew something was wrong the second I looked her.

The doctor handed me Alice immediately- a worried look now splashed across her face.

"What's wrong? Is she okay?" I asked frantically, desperately trying to hold my now crying babies in my arms. For a thirty five week gestation they sure had strong lungs. My heart thudded unrelentingly as I watched Y/N get weaker.

"She's bleeding. I need to get her to surgery." Our doctor said suddenly, without a second passing nurses and doctors flooded the room, Alice's cord was cut and Y/N was wheeled out. She was gone and I was left with Ada and Alice crying in my arms.

I looked down at Alice, who I had only just met, she looked just like Ada only a little smaller. I felt the same overwhelming love in my stomach for her that I did for Ada. Looking at Alice made my world implode- I was utterly in love with them both and yet simultaneously terrified for my soulmate, rushed into surgery. I hiccuped through my tears and rocked my babies in my arms. They squirmed and cried, kicking their tiny little legs and screaming at the top of their lungs.

I tried not to cry along with them and sighed.

"I know guys, I know. Your mommy will be back soon." I promised and wiped their foreheads before kissing the skin there on both of them. I held them for a minute before a nurse came running in. He smiled sadly at me.

"Hi, I'm Chris- let's get these little ones cleaned up and ready to see their mom- who I'm sure will want to hold them as soon as she gets out of surgery." He said in an attempt to cheer me up. I nodded nervously and stood up, the babies pressed firmly against me, I was strangely scared of dropping them.

It was three hours before the love of my life was wheeled back into the room. Ada and Alice were still restless in their bassinets. I refused to let them go to the nursery, I wanted to be near them and I needed them here when Y/N got back. She was unconscious when she was wheeled back into the room, she looked oddly peaceful- her eyes closed and her face relaxed, no longer contorted with pain as it had been for the last few hours. I sighed shakily and rushed to her side, sitting on the plastic seat by her bed. I wasn't sure if she could hear me- there were studies on the senses of patients in comas but she wasn't in a coma- she was anaesthetised. Regardless- I spoke to her.

"Hey honey. Our babies are here, Ada is 6 pounds 7 ounces and Alice is 6 pounds 1 ounce. They have an age gap of 3 minutes and 32 seconds, their birthday is the 17th of August which you know of course, they're Leos I don't know what that really means but I'm sure you will. You'll have to explain it to me when you wake up okay? Please wake up okay?" I whispered and clutched at her hand.

The doctor later informed me she'd suffered a placental abruption, she lost 1000ccs of blood and needed 16 stitches- but she was going to be okay. I cradled our babies for half an hour until she woke up, fluttering her pretty eyes until she realised where she was.

"Are the babies okay? Are our babies okay?" She asked in a distressed tone and tried to sit up, she winced and whimpered softly.

"Hey- hey, the babies are fine. Don't sit up yet, you had some bleeding, 12 internal and 4 external A line sutures so you'll be sore." I told her. She glanced across at me and smiled weakly. I wanted to cradled her cheek in my palm but I had no free hands with the babies squirming in my arms. They were finally quiet as they were reunited with their mom.

"Can I hold Alice? I didn't get to hold her." She asked with a sniffle. I nodded and handed her the baby, Alice balled her hands into fists and dozed happily as she was placed against Y/N's chest. She pressed her hands against Alice's back and sighed in relief.

"Don't scare me like that again." I whispered to her as I watched her looking at Alice in awe. I held Ada tightly and sighed.

I could relax for a moment. We were all okay.

—

I yawned as I came in the door, groceries hanging from my arms and a smile on my face. I was more exhausted than I'd ever been before but I was also happier than ever. My babies were four days old, Y/N was home from hospital and we had just about settled.

"Hey Spence." Y/N murmured to me from the lounge, the twins fast asleep in her arms. I grinned and placed the groceries on our counter.

“How are they going?” I asked quietly, she smiled softly and nodded.

“Good, they feed all the time- my boobs are so sore and swollen.” Y/N mumbled and rocked the babies gently.

I did admittedly feel guilty that Y/N had to bear the entire physical burden of the twins, and I know she would do it 100 times over for our daughters but still- I didn’t like seeing her so uncomfortable.

“Mastitis is more likely with twins and often occurs within the first three months of breastfeeding, do you feel any warmth or chills or a fever?” I asked quickly, listing information I’d read in a parenting journal months ago. Y/N smiled and shook her head.

“It’s my first 4 days of breastfeeding twins, I don’t have mastitis- I expect to be sore.” She muttered and rocked Alice and Ada gently. I smiled and sat beside her.

“Here let me take… Alice.” I spoke when I saw the freckle above the baby’s ear that we use to tell them apart.

She nodded and passed me the child gently. I hummed and rocked Alice who was still fast asleep. I glanced over at Y/N and Ada and grinned, she looked so beautiful as she rocked one of our children softly.

“I love you. I love our babies- I love it all- so much.”

—

Y/N

I nervously adjusted the collar of my shirt and looked down at the two baby capsules beside me. Ada and Alice were fast asleep, they looked so peaceful which was a rarity, they were usually so fussy. They always had to be next to each other or they wailed for hours on end.

They were almost 3 months old and were growing so fast. I wanted them to stay babies forever, I never wanted to let them go. But now, instead of the tiny fragile babies there were born as- they were adorable chubby babies who had just learned how much they loved to grab things.

They were developing personalities. Ada loved when Spencer read to her, babbling and giggling along to the words she didn't understand yet. Alice loved watching me write, she liked helping even more, slapping her tiny hands on my keyboard occasionally. Spencer and I were loving being parents, with help from my mom and my sister we moved by the time the babies were 4 weeks old. It was an actual house- not some dingy college apartment, a house. It had a swing set in the backyard for when the girls were bigger, two seperate studies for Spencer and I and a lovely big kitchen for us to cook in.

The profiling job meant we could afford the place that was huge and quite literally everything I'd ever wanted in a house, and it was only now I was finally settled in. It was my home, with my soulmate and my babies.

Spencer was an amazing father, he got up and fed them while I slept- he rocked Ada to sleep when Alice inevitably fell asleep before her. The month after they were born he didn't let me do much, he insisted that post partum healing was crucial and that all I needed to do was get well and feed our babies.

He had started work with the BAU a month ago, it meant he wasn't here as often but it also meant we could afford our new home and the litany of baby things we needed.

Spencer had been insisting that I had to meet his co-workers who he'd already bonded with, he spoke about a 'Derek' most often. I'd been too nervous though, meeting new people was always nerve wracking for me- I was a clinical people pleaser. Still, I think my hesitancy to meet his colleagues was slowly upsetting him, so I decided today I'd surprise him in the office. He wasn't leaving for a case, apparently today was going to be heavy on paperwork so it felt like the right time to meet everyone.

Spencer had forgotten to take any food to work and while there was apparently a shared food fridge, he had irks about sharing food and germ transference. If I visited him today I could bring him food as well as meet his colleagues, it all worked pretty well.

So, I finished adjusting my collar and slung my bag over my shoulder before hooking a baby capsule over each of my arms.

Going anywhere with twins was incredibly difficult, It was impossible to get through doors or to not bump into anything.

Getting them in the car was a struggle but getting them out and into the stroller was even harder, still after the drive I got them settled relatively settled with minimal tears.

The security team at the large grey FBI building were particularly nice. They were engulfed in the twin's cuteness and demanded to know their names and birthday. My nerves only really kicked in once the elevator door opened and the BAU area was revealed to me. I wanted to make a good impression for myself but also for Spence. Before I could get wrapped up in my thoughts though, a tall man with a cheeky grin and a muscular build approached me.

"Hey mamma, I haven't seen you around. I'm sure I'd remember such a pretty face." He flirted and chuckled playfully. I smiled at his flirtation and extended my hand to shake his.

"I'm "Y/N, and this is Ada and Alice." I said warmly. A look of recognition sprung across his face and he raised his eyebrows.

"Derek. You're Spencer's girl? These are the famous twins we've been hearing about." He said happily and crouched in front of the stroller to get a good look at the babies.

"Oh my God. Who are these cuties?" I heard a sweet voice ring, I looked up to see a cheerful woman with blonde hair pulled up in chopstick buns and glasses perched on her nose.

"This is Y/N and boy genius's babies." Derek said almost bewildered, he started pulling faces at the babies much to their amusement.

They giggled and balled their hands into little fists, waving them excitedly.

"It is a pleasure to meet you. I'm Penelope Garcia, Spencer has told us so much about you. He told us you were gorgeous but you're even prettier in person!" She cheered and hugged me. I slowly hugged her back and smiled at her, people seemed nice. I felt my anxiety easing quickly around them. All the giggling brought two more people to the group.

"Are these Spencer's babies?" A tall woman with dark brown hair and pretty green eyes asked with a bright smile. The older man beside was crouching down with Derek to play with the babies.

"Yes and his wonderful partner Y/N." Penelope grinned and glanced at both us.

"Great to meet the people Spencer won't shut up about. I'm Elle." She chuckled and looked down at Ada and Alice who happily distracted by a shiny key ring the other man had shown them.

"This is Jason Gideon. He's not big on intros." Derek rolled his eyes and nudged the man beside him.

"Sorry, I was distracted by the little ones. It's lovely to meet you." He said genuinely and looked at me with kind eyes.

"You too."

"What's going on- Hey honey. I had no idea you were coming." Spencer said excitedly as he exited the bullpen with a blonde woman beside him. He strode over to us and placed a quick kiss on my lips. I smiled and fixed his tie that had become a little crooked.

"You forgot your lunch and the girls needed to get out. I hope that's okay." I smiled softly and looked up at him, he was beaming with pride beside me.

"It's more than okay, I wanna see these cuties all the time." Penelope cheered and boiled Ada's nose. She let out a giggle and grabbed a lock of Penelope's hair.

"I'm sorry they're going through a very grabby way stage." I said and carefully detangled them. She laughed it off and continued playing with them.

"Hey, I'm JJ. Spencer has told us so much about your little family. It's nice to finally meet you." The blonde girl said sweetly and shook my hand. I smiled and couldn't help but feel a little jealous, both because these people saw Spencer all the time and because Elle and JJ were incredibly attractive. That being said, Spencer's eyes didn't leave me and the twins.

We were his number one priority. At least for now.

—-

First fic on here! This was a request that I got agesssss ago but then I got logged out of my account so I’m very sorry for the wait!!! Anyway let me know what you think or if you’d like a part 2!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #dad!spencer #long fic

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givemethatgold · 3 years

Text

Fix’er Upper Pt. 5

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of past abusive relationship, swearing, past drug use, alcohol

Word Count: 1.8k

Notes:

Parts ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR

Your injury, and consequential recovery time, couldn’t have come at a better time. The harvest was done and the apples had to rest before being pressed, which meant Frankie was now free to start working on your home. The work didn’t often require more than two hands so the days found you doing menial tasks being his gopher.

“You know,” Frankie had had to explain to you, “Go’fer this, go’fer that.”

This mainly consisted of you passing him tools while he was swearing under his breath in the attic, or groaning after rapping his knuckles under the sink, or white-faced and clinging to the weathervane on the roof.

You had discovered Frankie’s sweet tooth on the first day of renovations, not noticing until after he’d left for the day that more than half the cookies you’d baked that morning were already gone. Making sure he was kept happy, you had a new treat ready for when he walked in the door.

He was a coffee drinker though, and while you owned a coffee press you had never actually used it yourself, preferring tea leaves for your dose of caffeine. You’d tried, the first morning, to make a cup for him. You even googled How to Make a Cup of Coffee? to make sure you didn’t fuck it up.

You could laugh about it now, but the look on Frankie’s face after he’d taken his first sip made you worry you had poisoned him. He had spat the black sludge out and handed you back the mug with a look of bewildered disgust. Apparently, you needed to grind the beans first, who knew?

An efficient, if not quite comfortable, rhythm had been forged between the two of you over the past week and a half. Frankie would arrive at nine in the morning, scarf down half a dozen treats while discussing the day’s projects. You would run to town in his truck (yours was still at the autobody shop awaiting parts) and buy any supplies that would be needed while he set up the worksites and organized the tools that would be required.

You had added popping into the local café for a large coffee for Frankie and a red rooibos latte with almond milk for yourself. The first couple of days you had bought him a brownie too but stopped after he’d only half-finished the first one and mumbled through the crumbs in his mouth that yours were better. It only took you three days before the owner had your order ready for you before you even walked in the door, five days before you noticed the sidelong glances the little old ladies were giving each other as you walked out.

Small towns, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes, had the unique benefit and downfall of everyone knowing everyone else’s business. They’d quit with the hardly-concealed smirks if they knew how awkward working with Frankie was becoming.

You had been sure, in the immediate aftermath of waking up in Frankie’s arms while his truck sat in your driveway, that he was never going to speak to you again. The two of you and hopped out and began explaining away whatever conclusions Jacquie and Mark had made. Then Frankie, without even looking in your general direction, told Jacquie to get you inside and have your wrist looked at.

To his credit, he had taken care of everything regarding your truck for you. The tow truck came and hauled it to the yard, Frankie had commandeered the inspection report and, after calling them out on trying to swindle you into buying unnecessary parts, had ordered what was needed and paid.

You had, naturally, argued against this but you both knew you weren’t in a position to afford it. Frankie shut down your arguments gracefully, and broke his apparent vow of silence, with a gruff “I’m just doing it so I can drive my damn truck without you changing the radio station.” The absolute charmer.

It was your damn house, though, so you decided you'd talk as much as you wanted and it would be up to him to interact. Either that or you had music blaring from the radio, never playing his favourite country station purely out of spite.

Never quite sure if he was listening or not, you rambled on about anything and everything. You explained your vision for the house and the plans you had for a greenhouse in the yard. Memories from your childhood were described in great detail, as were embarrassing stories from your year in college. Baking tips, waxing poetic about your love for sunflowers, interesting animal facts, you'd even downloaded a Word of the Day App and made a game of fitting the words into your daily uninterrupted monologues.

It took three days for Frankie to break.

You had been reminiscing about your trip to Disneyland as a child when he abruptly cut in, voice muffled due to the nails being held between his lips.

"You never talk about it."

You assumed he was referring to the little all-day nap you’d shared in his truck, as it had yet to be spoken of, but were taken aback by the slight accusatory tone.

"Talk about what?"

He took so long to reply, you started to think that he had interrupted purely to shut you up. The silence demanded an explanation though, so you kept your mouth shut and waited.

Clambering down from the attic, where he had been strengthening the trusses throughout the sagging section of roof, Frankie pinned you with his gaze and softly repeated himself.

"You never talk about it. The time in your life when you were married." He must have seen your hackles rise because he quickly set down the hammer and held his hands up in a placating wave.

"You still haven't answered my question about being in the army," was your quick response, finished with an ever-so-mature, "so there."

With a resigned sigh, Frankie twisted his hat around backward and scrubbed his hands across his face. "Come on" -waving you towards the patio doors- "these kinds of conversations require fresh air and a drink."

Reluctantly you followed him outside but rather than sinking down onto the porch swing you opted to lean against the post facing it. Opening two ciders, which you now had free access to, you handed one to Frankie and watched him over the top of the bottle.

Half of your drink was gone and your mind had wandered to greenhouse and flower garden placement before Frankie spoke again. His voice low and quiet catching you by surprise.

"Yeah," he broke the silence with another ragged sigh, "I, uh, I served. Started in the Air Force, worked my way up to Special Tactics Squadron. Made enough noise there to get recruited to Delta Force."

"Oh, fuck," your exclamation was soft with shock "you've seen some shit then." Blast your runaway mouth and its inability to wait for your brain to catch up before blurting out your inner thoughts. "I'm sorry!-"

"No, it's okay" Frankie interrupted, trying to reassure you and remove the horrified look that had come across your face.

"No, no, that was totally uncalled for. Brad, my um, my husband, he was a Marine. He hated talking about it, said no one liked talking about it. I should have known."

"It's not that," Frankie reassured you again, "You were the first person to ever ask me about it, in all the time I've lived here. Just took me by surprise."

Leaning over in the swing, Frankie pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and handed you a photo from inside it. Five men beamed up at you. You could recognize them from a few of the photos that had rested on Frankie's mantle, they looked older in this one.

"Tell me about them?" you asked, knowing that most of the request was due to curiosity but a small part of you hoped that if you kept him talking you could avoid the subject of your marriage.

The sun was beginning to set and you'd long moved inside to eat dinner by the time Frankie was done sharing. It must have been cathartic, you mused, for him to bare this much about himself. He had never looked more relaxed in all the time you'd known him, which wasn't saying much and it could just as easily been due to the amount of alcohol thrumming through his system.

The room fell into a companionable silence, each of you digesting the information that had been revealed. You were in awe of the fact that, despite the life of violence he had witnessed, Frankie still maintained his humanity. Even after a messy divorce and lost custody battle, Frankie continued to choose the path of healing. He was clean, was fighting for shared custody of his daughter again, running his own business, and still had found time to endear himself into the town's hearts.

Frankie was, for all his sharp edges and gruff words, a sweetheart.

It put into stark comparison how Brad had reacted to the lemons life had served him. Born into an upper-middle-class home, the only son, doted on by his parents, Brad had been raised into a life where every door was open to him. Despite this, or maybe because of it, he had grown hateful of those weaker than him. He was controlling but had just the right amount of charm to pass it off as caring.

"I've met men like that,"

You nearly jumped out of your skin from surprise. Looking at Frankie with wide-eyed shock you wondered again what the hell was in the cider. This was the second time you'd poured your heart out to a virtual stranger, but this time you hadn't even realized you'd started speaking your thoughts aloud.

Squaring your shoulders and holding Frankie's gaze you continued, almost challenging him to find someone worse than Brad had been.

"He made me quit college because he said he wanted to start a family. Then berated me and acted like it was all my fault every time the pregnancy test came back negative. You know what that asshole did?" Tears were threatening to fall but you held on to Frankie's gaze, "He had gotten a vasectomy months earlier. I didn't find out about it until after he died; going through paperwork that had been stored in his desk."

Frankie was up on his feet now, pacing around the kitchen island, too distraught to keep still. How could anyone be so cruel? Let alone be so cruel to someone as sweet and pure as you. He hated seeing you cry but knowing you weren't receptive to people being in your personal space, wasn't sure how to comfort you.

Acting on pure instinct he grabbed the kettle and started preparing you some tea, not allowing himself to ruminate how he knew which flavour you preferred. Setting your favourite pottery mug in front of you, along with the little honey pot, he also decided to grab the fluffy throw blanket off your couch.

"I get it now," he thought to himself offhandedly, "why women have so many fuckin' blankets and pillows in every room."

Placing the throw around your shoulders he was preparing to say goodnight and let you have some peace but was stilled by your hand reaching up and covering his.

"Please. Stay."

Part SIX

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lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

To bargain for immortality pt.4

The first thing to come to her conscious mind as soon as she woke up were always the faint distant sounds of her home. Faint, as not only was Cassandra's bedroom on one of the higher floors, but any staff members knew better than to make noise while their mistresses were sleeping. Distant barking made its way past a window left ajar, accompanied by scribbling noises.

Nicole turned around, legs tangled in the blanket that was shared until not long ago, to look for a colder spot warranted by the warm May weather. The realization that she was alone in bed made its way through the haze still remaining from sleep. That, in itself, was not unusual as Cassandra almost always woke up first and busied herself with something while waiting for her to wake up.

"Cassandra?" She called out quietly, voice still groggy with sleep and eyes not even bothering to open.

"Just a moment," came her response from the other side of the room, likely the desk, as the scratchy sound of pencil on paper stopped.

The chair was pushed away and a handful of steps took Cassandra to the door, where a maid was waiting outside as per routine. After a couple hushed instructions, the door clicked shut again and she finally approached the bed, looking down at her wife with fondness. She bent down to leave a kiss on top of messy auburn hair.

"Good morning."

Her answer came in the form of a returned kiss and impatient tug of her hand, that she gladly indulged by sitting down on top of the soft cushions that she had priorly abandoned. Nicole wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her waist and nuzzling into her side, happy to feel the cool skin underneath a thin grey robe. Cassandra decided that her wife seemed awake enough to receive news, despite the obvious refusal to even crack an eye open.

"Bela wants to go into town later and asked if we'd like to come."

There they were, emerald eyes finally open and staring up at her in surprise.

"Did you say yes?"

Cassandra scoffed. "And finally get the chance to go out and stretch my legs after being locked up in the castle for all winter? Absolutely not."

That got her an eye roll. "In that case I'll keep on sleeping through the whole evening," Nicole said, pretending to go back to the dream she had just left unfinished, something the mild tiredness that had settled in her body seemed more than happy about.

"Oh no you don't."

Two strong hands gripped her shoulders and shifted her into Cassandra's lap, thin lips intoxicatingly close to her ear. "I even prepared the perfect outfits for the two of us, I simply cannot believe you'd pass up this opportunity for some extra sleep."

Nicole laughed at the feign offense, voice finally clear and free from the morning raspiness. She stretched her arms upwards with a few satisfying pops and then let her hands rest on Cassandra's shoulders.

"My, that's so thoughtful of you," she said, leaving a soft kiss on her lips. "Good morning."

The moment was kindly interrupted by a curt knock on the heavy door. Nicole groaned and moved back on the bed, pulling a nightgown that certainly did not belong to her loosely over her shoulders. When she was covered enough to not put on a show, Cassandra chuckled and addressed the still closed door.

"Come in."

A young woman entered the room, one of the latest additions to the kitchen staff as per Cynthia's request, with a tray expertly balanced in one hand, while the other held the leash of one of the thankfully well behaved hounds.

"Eris!" Nicole greeted the black dog, who snapped its big brown eyes in her direction and started wagging its tail. Thankfully for the girl holding the leash, the dog was expertly trained and did not lunge away to its owners. Instead it followed along, not tugging on the leash until both were just by the bed.

"Breakfast, my ladies."

A small assortment of drinks, together with a plate were placed from the silver tray to the small table on Cassandra's side. One wine glass was filled with fresh crimson blood, a cup of hot tea was sitting right beside it, steam rising up from the liquid inside and, in the smaller cup, dark coffee. On the plate, a freshly baked croissant and a small assortment of berries were waiting invitingly.

"And Eris, as you requested."

The girl held up the leash, but Cassandra simply waved a dismissive hand. "Just let her go. And leave the leash on my desk."

She did as was instructed, unhooking the leash with a soft metal click and placing it, coiled up neatly, on the carefully polished wood of the desk. Then, with a slight bow, she left the two alone once again.

Nicole didn't acknowledge that, too busy patting the spot by her side for the black hound to jump up. Cassandra opened her mouth to protest, but was a second too late as the dog was already in her wife's lap getting head and neck scratches. She sighed. At least all the hounds were kept squeaky clean outside hunting sessions.

"Stop spoiling our hunting dogs."

"Oh darling don't worry, I have no power over Carolina's training," she emphasized by snapping a finger and pointing it to the far side or the bed, direction that the dog followed dutifully, curling up on top of a folded blanket. "Good girl," she cooed at the furry beast, which elicited a tail wag.

Cassandra shook her head with a small smile tugging at her lips. She passed the small coffee cup to her wife, who took a tentative sip to test the temperature. It was lukewarm, as it always was, the routine of all the family ingrained into each and every staff member to the dot. They knew how Nicole liked her coffee, what tea to pair with any kind of breakfast and, probably most important for their sake, exactly how much blood, down to the milliliter, Cassandra liked to drink in the morning. Well, early evening, but who kept track.

The bitter liquid was downed in mere seconds, the taste accompanied by a sour grimace. Nicole did not like coffee in the slightest, having lost any possible appetite for the bitter taste after drinking one too many, or a thousand too many, cups during her days in med school. Unfortunately, it still did its job of waking her up, so a compromise with a sweet cup of fruity tea right afterwards had to be made.

She passed the empty cup back to Cassandra, who replaced it with the tea.

"I have to say, seeing your face scrunched up in disgust every morning is most entertaining."

"Happy to see my attempt at waking up is enjoyable for you," she replied with a pointed look thrown over the porcelain edge of the mug.

The look however was replaced by a content sigh upon sipping on the tea, the prior bitter taste slowly replaced by a blissful blend of fruit and lavender. While their cook Cynthia was downright an expert at preparing all kinds of meat, human included, her biggest talent was creating the best blends of tea, never too overpowering but always with a balanced taste. At least according to Nicole, and she would hold that opinion to the day she died.

While waiting for the liquid to get to a more drinkable temperature, her attention went back to the dog now sprawled on its side. "Why did you ask for Eris?"

Cassandra took another long sip of her drink, far more elegant than one would expect from a woman who had no issue regularly walking around covered in blood. "I just thought we could bring her along, I know she's your favorite," she finished with a smirk.

"That's not true," Nicole quickly replied, as if she were a mother accused of having a favorite child, which only made Cassandra's grin grow wider. She cleared her throat in an attempt to save some face. "I love all our dogs equally, Eris is just… particularly well behaved, yes."

Her wife simply chuckled, not having bought any of her excuses for playing favorites. Not that Cassandra wasn't guilty of that either. Her first response to picking a favorite would be not unlike Nicole's, but she had a particular fondness for Freya, one of their Finnish hounds, who always seemed so eager to sniff out prey on the hunts. She would be lying to say that she didn't entertain the idea of asking her mother to infect some of their best dogs from time to time, their short lives feeling like blinks of an eye compared to her own immortality.

She placed the now empty glass back on the table, not quite as graceful as her mother always did after a meal. They had plenty of time, so getting up was not yet in either of their schedules.

"Are we going somewhere in particular, or just out for a stretch," Nicole asked in between sips.

"Bela has to pick something up and Dani, surprising to precisely no one, wants to visit the bookshop," Cassandra started with a slight eye roll, leaning on her side on top of the cushions and starting to toy with the hem of Nicole's sleeve. "Since we're doing none of that boring stuff, I thought you'd like to choose."

Nicole tapped a finger of the white rim of her mug, nail making a soft clink. She sighed. "Just a walk around town, I'm really dying to get out too."

"You do realize you're not confined to the castle during winter like I am right," Cassandra laughed.

"And leave my beloved wife all alone while I go out and about," her reply was overly dramatic, complete with a hand gingerly placed over her heart almost as if such an idea was close to blasphemous. It only gained her a small snort.

"Should I remind you that I've spent decades in this castle? I promise I can bear it."

Okay, grandma.

With the tea finally gone, Nicole placed the tall mug on the nightstand closest to her, effectively freeing her hands. Free to trace tender fingers up Cassandra's arm, her neck and around the intricate lace of her choker to toy with the fine chains decorating it.

"You sure about that?" Her voice was sickly sweet, all too aware of her unbeatable talent of making someone as sadistic as her wife melt with little more than a hushed tone and gentle hands.

Cassandra did not respond right away. She was nothing if not a prideful person and admitting to the fact that yes, she would miss her, even for a handful of hours, was not particularly high on her list of things to be said out loud. It was almost an unbearably clingy kind, their relationship. Or at least that's what someone who did not know better would say. Truth be told, they were both the kind of people that looked almost desperately, although a desperation worn with odd grace, for comfort in other people. People they would then fight tooth and nail, or more accurately fang and claw, to keep close. It was obvious in the way Cassandra took on the role as protector of the family, nevermind the fact that Alcina would cut any possible threats to pieces before any of them had time to lift a finger. Obvious, also in the way she was so protective over Nicole herself, the beautifully engraved dagger always strapped to the redhead’s side either under a lab coat or at the belt of a dress rendered little more than a fancy accessory.

Cassandra chuckled, wrapping long fingers around her hand and taking it away from her necklace. "Why don't we get dressed before Bela comes to nag at us mm?" Then black lips were gingerly pressed to the skin, leaving a small kiss on top of bony knuckles.

With a shrug and a less than gracious stretch accompanied by a yawn, Nicole got out from under the covers, the red velvety fabric of the robe flowing after her like an impromptu cape.

"Are you wearing my robe," Cassandra's voice came from behind her, together with hands placed on her waist.

Duh.

Not that Cassandra ever truly complained. Finding the oversized clothing her wife often wore quite endearing.

"It does look quite charming on me you have to admit."

"You're practically swimming in it."

Nicole rolled her eyes which only prompted a small laugh.

They fixed themselves enough to be semi presentable for the small distance that separated the bedroom and the dressing room. Nicole was about to suggest wearing something more casual, but the fact that going out for the first time after the long winter months was almost reason for a small celebration for all three of the Dimitrescu sisters made her shut down that train of thought. No harm in being fancy on occasion after all.

The outfits Cassandra had picked out were nothing short of perfect for the occasion. Matching black dresses, Nicole's a tad lighter with a lacy collar and frilly hems complete with a white vest-like corset, while Cassandra's was made out of a thicker fabric and went down almost to the floor, surely due to her tendency to get cold easily.

Not being the kind that lingered in the dressing room too long, that was more Daniela's style, it took little for them to get dressed. The occasional helping hand for small things that one could maybe twist and turn to do themselves, but why bother when you have a perfectly willing to help spouse, was something they both enjoyed and took a couple extra precious moments to let a hand linger or fingers to trace expertly done sems. After some makeup was applied and the leash was hooked back to Eris' collar, they finally made their way downstairs.

They were close to fashionably late it seemed, as Bela, Daniela and Anita were already waiting in the main hall, the eldest throwing a miffed expression their way upon seeing them descend the grand staircase.

Nicole noticed the absence of one of their usual party members. "Isn't Laura coming with us?"

"She had to go to Donna's this morning. Spring preparations and all," Bela's reply came dangerously close to being accompanied by an uncharacteristic pout.

Oh. Someone's in a sour mood.

They made their way down the stone paved road that connected the castle to the town in relative silence, interrupted only once by Bela telling them when they would meet up to head back home. Other than that, they just enjoyed the short walk. And for good reason, the road was surrounded by beautiful rose bushes on both sides, with pine trees expanding beyond them and the sounds of birds and nocturnal animals beginning to wake up blending together in a quiet murmur so typical to the forest.

Once in the town square under the familiar angel statue, Bela wordlessly left them in favor of making her way down a small street. Daniela and Anita seemed more courteous and said their goodbyes and see-you-laters as they turned around, chattering about something only they understood.

Left alone, with their dog whose leash was attached to the same belt Cassandra's sickle was, they started walking down the quiet streets. It was almost sundown, so even the small crowd of people usually going about their business was almost non-existent, knowing better than to be out at night without good reason.

Something that Nicole was yet to grow bored of, even after a few years spent at the castle, was the small architectural oddities around town. It looked quite regular, albeit old, at first glance but a closer look would reveal the rich symbolism resulting from the centuries of being quite literally broken off from the rest of the world and almost frozen in time.

The go to flowers planted in front of buildings were crimson roses, the familiar patterns of swirling vines and leaves engraved into walls and lamp posts. A bakery they passed by had three sickles hanging behind the glass, complementing the harvest theme the entire shop had, together with dried wheat in vases and warm inviting colors on the walls. The one fishery that everyone in town knew had a mermaid gracefully swimming in a panel just above its entrance and horseshoes were nailed to most doors leading to houses or small apartment buildings. Even a toy store had a suspiciously Angie-like doll, although without the cracks and signs of time its original counterpart sported, looking out at any passersby.

One thing that could never go unnoticed however, were the crows. Statues of the birds, big or small, could be seen anywhere, from street corners to rooftops and atop building entrances. Some had their wings spread out, ready to take flight were they not trapped by stone bodies, others had their bills open wide in a silent croak and some were simply looking on. Real crows were also incredibly common, replacing the pigeons any other city had in favor of the black birds, ironically roosting on the statues of themselves quite often and kindly providing the city background noise with their caws. Nicole inquired about their presence once, and Cassandra had explained how the locals see crows as good luck, being a symbol to Mother Miranda. Many people fed them and even had buildings upon which small towers were erected with the purpose of giving the birds space to make nests.

Nicole had a strong suspicion that some of the birds were a little more than they let on, especially after seeing their so-called goddess break into a flock on multiple occasions. Sometimes, you would look at one of the crows perched on a power line connecting two buildings, and icy grey would stare back, the depth in those eyes far too human to belong to any bird.

Her slight glare towards one crow that seemed to look at them from a windowsill was interrupted by the memory of a small list she had tucked in her pocket before leaving.

"Oh, I need to pass by the pharmacy to pick up a few things we ran out of."

Cassandra simply shrugged. "Sure," and she looked around for a moment to find the street that would take them there fastest. Not like they had any plans other than enjoying the pseudo freedom that being out of the castle gave them.

The pharmacy was oh so conveniently located on the other side of town, adjacent to the hospital near the reservoir. Ever since Miranda had found ways to lessen the negative effects of his mutation, Moreau was the designated town doctor, but due to the still somewhat volatile transformations he was still mostly confined to the place and it's murky waters, a fact that he despised greatly. It was an obvious choice, then, to erect the hospital there. It was a small building not unlike the rest of the town's architecture when it came to size, no more than three floors high and with a small staff that Moreau himself had to teach the ins and outs of medical practice. If memory serves right, even Miranda and her assistants had taught some people particularly well versed in the sciences how to operate the equipment and patients alike. Medical training seemed to be hard to come by around here and Nicole had a gnawing suspicion that it was the reason she was still alive.

The building coming into view behind the trees and the paved road that cut through the small stretch of woods separating the town and reservoir looked oddly new in comparison to the rest, as it had been erected only a couple decades prior. Attached to it, a smaller house with matching tiles on the roof and a sign that read Farmacie above the entrance's double doors.

Dogs were normally not allowed inside, but who was going to stop them of all people from marching right in, black hound happily walking by their side. They were the only ones inside, save for a short woman sitting behind the counter, panic flashing in her eyes when her gaze fell on Cassandra's tall frame, hand in hand with Nicole who was at the moment too occupied with pulling out the list of meds she had written. She gave it a once over and, sure that she had everything down, passed the paper to the pharmacist, who knew better than to ask if she had any prescriptions.

"You could've sent someone to fetch these for you," Cassandra said, eyes following the woman as she disappeared behind tall shelves full of small boxes and pill bottles.

"I know, I just didn't want to wait. I don't like running out of supplies," Nicole shrugged.

Plus, Nicole was way less likely to be questioned on why she's buying twenty different kinds of meds than a random maid. Partly because the pharmacist recognized her and partly because any sane person here knew better than not obliging when Cassandra was looming behind her. A small smirk graced her lips at the thought and a sly look was given to her wife, who was too busy playing with the dog's floppy ears to notice. Eris raised her head at the unforgivable offense, playfully trying to nip at the gloved hands that were tickling her, getting a giggle out of the brunette.

All three were distracted by the soft clink of a bell hanging above the door, indicating that someone had entered the pharmacy. It was an older man, looking to be in his sixties, heavily leaning on a crutch held in his right hand.

Cassandra's features morphed into a scowl and Nicole could practically hear the man-thing going through her mind. The man was probably on the verge of doing a complete one eighty and exit the pharmacy, when a voice called out from behind the counter.

"Ah Andrei, I have something for that infection of yours, hold on a moment," the pharmacist called out, before handing Nicole a sizable paper bag full of what she had requested.

She felt an unwelcomed whiff of decay as Cassandra took the bag from her hands, and sniffled in an attempt to ward off the stinging sensation in her nose. She fumbled with the credit card, mentally cursing the payment for not transferring quicker when the smell was starting to make her eyes water the slightest bit.

"Is everything alright my lady?"

The man's voice, full of genuine worry came from behind them, having moved closer upon the pharmacist's urging, and the putrid stench of death and decomposition flooded Nicole's senses together with the slick sensation of blood running down her face. She had to force down a gag as she shoved the card back into a pocket and all but ran out the door, worried wife in toe.

"Nicole what-" Cassandra swallowed any words she had at the sight of the blood flowing down and staining the until moments before immaculate white of her wife's corset.

Nicole made her way to a corner of the building that nobody seemed to go to, and leaned against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and trying to ward off the lightheadedness.

For someone who spent years working on dead bodies in various stages of decomposition, one would think that the smell of death did not bother her. And it didn't. But this was different, the stench seeming to make its way into her skin and clinging to her senses, coating her throat as if trying to choke her out in the most disgusting way possible. Not to mention that there was no actual dead body around.

She coughed out the blood that didn't make its way out of her nostrils and instead decided to go the throat route. Her hands were a crimson mess and so were her face and dress, a pang of guilt shooting through her for having ruined the outfit picked by Cassandra. At least the bleeding seemed to stop and so did the horrid stench.

Cassandra didn't seem to care, nor even notice, the ruined fabric. Instead she pulled out a handkerchief from a pocket and started to gently wipe the blood away from pale skin.

"What's wrong?" She asked and Nicole could only shake her head.

"I don't know. I don't know why this keeps happening," she almost ran her hands down her face in frustration but had enough clarity of mind to remember how dirty they were. "I thought it would go away, and for a while it did. I don't understand what the hell is wrong with me," she added, voice rising the slightest bit.

Cassandra grimaced, trying to get her face clean. "We can talk to Mother when we get back."

A defeated sigh made its way past bloody lips. Nicole had her doubts that Alcina would know any more than them on the situation, which was nothing. They knew nothing.

She grabbed Cassandra's hand to steady herself back on her feet, mind drifting to what she didn't want to think was her only solution.

If there was anyone who could get to the end of this, it was Mother Miranda.

#unhinged maiden™ my beloved #cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #to bargain for immortality #fanfic #doggo!!!#some fluff for a break aye #go out they said itll be fun they said

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dancingazaleas · 3 years

Text

𖨆. 08 / all for us

summary: levi decides to walk you through his garden on a rainy day. you didn’t think that you’d end up having another antagonist though.

note: oh my god, i am deeply sorry that this took such a long time. i’ve been way too busy to actually sit down and get into the mindset of this book. i’m so sorry.

word count: +2.4k

taglist: @voltairelesecond @baelo80 @the-sun-baby @uniquepickle @ascybous @messyhairday-me @stupid-stinky @saturnalya @megumitodoroki @kouyume @quacksonlover81 @gipumaur @morgana-olson @yourodangoatama

warnings/notes: cursing, creepy gestures, fluff, slight confusion, unedited, let me know if i missed anything

RAINDROPS pelted against the glass of the window gently, the sound echoing throughout the quiet room that is your bedroom.

today, levi had decided he would just spend his time with you in the comfort of your own room, holding you in his arms while he lazed the day away.

you, on the other hand, were having none of it. and by none of it, i mean cuddling. it wasn't that you didn't want to cuddle with levi, in fact, you enjoyed a lot! but, the rain outside your window was far more important in your eyes.

there was nothing exactly specific about the rain that entrapped your attention, just that it had been so long since you'd been in it. so long since you've been outside even.

but you'd never ask to go outside, the answer was already plastered onto an invisible wall inside of your head. so instead, you'd just look whenever you would get the chance.

and it didn't go unnoticed, it was actually quite obvious. you didn't care however, it's not as if erwin or levi were going to change their mind, so why worry at all?

but seeing the way your eyes sparkle at the sight of the rain gather in puddles outside, levi felt himself being convinced.

he huffs annoyedly, he just wanted to spend the day in your arms until erwin was home. he wishes it didn't rain. but even so, he begrudgingly gets to his feet and trudges to you. you look at him with a smile, hand reaching up to point at something that only you could probably see.

"we're gonna go outside for a bit, sick of watching your desperate face," he puts his hands in his pockets while staring at your widened eyes.

you stare at him for a minute, slightly creeping him out, before you even really react. you swing your arms around his neck and thank him profusely, a wide smile spread from ear to ear whenever you pull away from him.

"you're not going out in your nightgown though," he points to the silk white nightgown that ends at your bruised knees.

you follow behind him happily whenever he walks into your closet, shuffling through the different clothes he's bought you.

"you're not wearing light colors, it's too muddy outside, and if you were to get stains on you, they'd ruined beyond repair," he mutters, grabbing a black button up with bishop sleeves.

he hands it to you, gently taking your hand to lead you out of the closet and towards your dresser than held your clothes. he settles on a forest green skirt that ends just a few inches above your ankles, and then he grabs a bra for you.

"strip," you don't complain, only heat up and oblige.

his back is turned whenever he flings a black bra at you, obviously avoiding the sight of your body to help you maintain your decency. even if he did bathe you sometimes.

you hurriedly slip the bra on and levi finally decides to look at you again. he helps you button up your shirt along with the cuffs, nagging at you quietly as a husband would do for their wife. he lets you step inside the skirt on your own, which has you coming to the realization that there are built in pants that separate the air from your panties.

levi scoffs at your untucked shirt, tucking it into your skirt with fondness dripping from him. he sits you onto the stool of your vanity, which no longer has a mirror, and sighs. he picked up a brush, running it carefully through your hair to avoid any tangles that would tug at your head.

when he feels you're decent enough, he holds a cold hand out for you to take into his own. you accept it with glee, skipping behind him when he guides you through his estate and to the back door that leads to his garden.

"i need you all to clean up that table in the center. put those big umbrellas under it and dry it off with towels. then leave towels by the umbrella so i can wipe it down if it gets wet again. make us a light lunch, nothing too big but definitely not small. (name) and i are going to walk around the garden together until you all are finished or until we're ready to eat," levi's so quick with his words that it has you reeling with confusion, but his workers seem just fine with his speed and are already starting to complete the task given to them.

he holds a smaller umbrella in one hand and your hand in the other, opening it above the two of you as you step outside the door. your shoes click against the stone walkway just as thunder booms in the sky. you flinch and chuckle, pulling your hand away from levi to link arms with him.

he guides you along the garden, only explaining certain things if you had questions. the silence mixed with the light pitter patter of the rain soothes him, heavy eyes fluttering sleepily.

he's immediately awake whenever you squeal excitedly.

there was a marble statue of the goddess, themis. her scales were elegantly balanced between her fingers while her blindfold hung loosely around her eyes, other hand on the hilt of her sword that pointed to the ground.

"that was a reward for erwin at his office. i make sure to clean it myself every once and a while," you look to him, admiration mixed with confusion displayed on your face as you contemplated the meanings behind not only the goddess, but her statue as well.

you decide to keep quiet, slightly tugging levi to come closer to the statue so you can examine it more closely.

your eyes are shining whenever levi looks at you, and he feels like you're the sunshine in the midst of this pouring rain.

he looks down at his shoes silently, brushing away his cheesy and sappy thoughts. he feels stupid. not once had he felt this way towards anyone besides tall blonde men with blue eyes, but now he was feeling this way towards a woman. to say he was confused was only scratching at the surface.

he knew he'd liked you when he met you. you were quick witted, outgoing, and kind-hearted, not to mention gorgeous. but it's not like he wasn't sexually attracted to women at the time, he definitely was. he had never just felt romantically for women, not once in the entirety of his pitiful life.

but you're so docile and levi likes that. he not only likes it, he cherishes it.

for now, he'll entertain the thought that he might be bisexual, pansexual, whatever title makes him feel comfortable. if he can fall for you, then there's a chance he can fall for other girls.

levi hasn't even realized he's zoned out until you whine at him. you're lightly tugging on his hand to venture further into the garden, and levi's heart swells. you had an opportunity to leave, whether you even knew it or not, yet you chose to stay and wait for him. you had even snapped him out of it.

he lets out a huff before he stares to guide you around the garden again. he can't wait to take a nap after this.

"are you ready to eat yet," he grumbles, tugging on your hand to get you to stop walking.

"is there anything else left to see?"

"nothing that will look good in this weather," he scoffs.

"then, yes, i'm ready," and with that, he's leading you to the table his workers had been ordered to set up.

when you two arrive, you realize that the table was sat under a white hexagonal kiosko that had vines and flowers wrapping around the support beams. the table was covered from the rain, confusion clacking your brain at why levi asked for a big umbrella.

he seems pleased at seeing the table though.

"how long did it take for petra to realize," levi asks whenever he helps you sit down.

"not very long," the man said, and you recognize him from that day in bath with erwin.

you stiffen at the eye contact, looking down at the table and the empty plates that sit upon them. you feel his stare linger on you and your body, specifically your curves that were hidden underneath the button up shirt levi put on you. this kid gave you the creeps.

"i'll be back with the food," he says and walks behind your chair, fingers brushing against the back of your neck.

you swallow down your disgust, looking to levi to start a conversation.

"levi, wh... what's that boy's name?"

eyebrow raised, he responds, "his name's archie. why do you ask?"

"no reason. i think i've seen him around the house before," you shrug and idly play with the silverware on the table.

levi doesn't believe you, but the day has been too good for him to ruin now. you both talk sparingly while waiting for archie to come back, mostly talking about the new tv show you got levi to start watching and what he thinks about it.

the two of you turn your heads when you hear the sound of footsteps. you see erwin with archie following behind him with a tray of three plates, erwin holding an umbrella over the two of them. a soft smile sets on levi's face when he sees him.

"what are you doing home," you smile whenever he steps under the roof of the kiosko closes the umbrella.

"i was thinking of you two all day. it got so bad that i called a client by your guys' names," he chuckles, leaning down to give you a kiss on your head.

he does the same to levi while you giggle at his sentence. he sits down in an unoccupied chair, hand laying itself on your thigh.

"you can't just keep taking off, erwin," despite the slightly bitter sentence, levi's face is content.

archie places the plates in front of erwin and levi in silence, then to you. his arm brushes your own, and you can't help but get that weird feeling in your tummy again.

"thank you," you say to him quietly, flipping the fork between your fingers.

he just hums in response and walk away from the three of you again, sly smirk on his face. you ignore him, starting to eat the grilled chicken salad with slight confusion.

it had been over three months since you'd even had a fork in your hands. the feeling felt foreign and it felt as if all memory of how to eat with a fork washed away. the realization made your stomach ache, a dreadful look in your eyes spreading across your body. you swallowed down the huge ball that brews in your throat, hands trembling.

erwin and levi stare with pride swelling in their chests while tears swell in your eyes.

since when had you become so dependent? were you not just taking care of pieck and her cat when she was sick months ago?

you take a deep breath, adjusting the fork to make it comfortable in your hand. you try your best to eat with loose muscles, but the stiffness in your bones have practically turned you into wood.

erwin turns to you, sickeningly sweet smile on his face, taking the fork out of your hand and gathering food for you. he feeds you, just as he has done before, fingers gently touching your jaw as if he guided your chewing.

a warmth fills the ball in your chest, and deep down inside it makes you sick. you chew slowly and listen to levi and erwin's conversation, which consists of erwin's workday and how you've refused to cuddle with levi this morning.

————

you lay on the living room couch with your head in erwin's lap and feet in levi's. a crime documentary plays on the television, something erwin seemed excited about. he looked too cute to deny.

erwin's fingers run through the locks of your hair lovingly, only ever pulling them out if they start to tangle. levi's watching the documentary with a bored look on his face, thumb rubbing random patterns into your ankle. you're not exactly paying attention to the documentary, only zoning in whenever erwin points something out or whenever levi lets out a scoff.

you start to sit up and stretch, the urge of going to the bathroom taking over you.

you feel embarrassed whenever you ask, "can i go to the bathroom?"

"yeah, just go to the one in your quarters," levi's answer is immediate. he really must not like the documentary.

you pad over to the bathroom, listening to the pitter pattering of your bare feet against the dark hardwood floor. you walk into the opened door of your quarter, yawning obnoxiously and throwing your arms into the air. maybe you should've cuddled with levi this morning.

you go to the bathroom quickly, the thundering of the sky making you nervous. it would've been different if levi or erwin were with you.

you start to walk back to the living room, eyes focused on the flickering light that illuminates the large hallway. a particular loud clash of lightning and clap of thunder has you jumping into the air, house barely rumbling.

your body crashes into a chest, which you immediately grab onto, instinctively. you start to apologize to the person, obviously thinking that it was erwin judging by the height and broadness of the chest.

but when you look up, you're looking at the emerald green eyes that belong to archie. your words get caught in your throat and you feel yourself pale.

"i-i'm sorry," you stutter, immediately backing away only to come to the realization that you're already a few feet from the door to go back into the living room.

if you crashed into him, that means he was walking towards you. but the only thing ahead of the two of you would be—

would be your room.

dread drenches you, head to toe, sweat forming on your forehead as the room starts to feel a little bit fuzzy.

"wh-why were you in my room," you struggle to even get the first syllable out.

"levi wanted me to check for something in there," he shrugs nonchalantly, but you're not convinced.

you smile shakily and nod, rushing to the living room to get away from him. you try to think positive even after all the staring and subtle touches.

but it still leaves a pit in your stomach.

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super-predictable98 · 2 years

Text

Make You Feel my Love | BNHA AU (1 YR special)

Warning: Strong language, little itty bitty angst

Word Count: 1,3k

a/n: So @myherokatsuki is the best and everyone knows that, but today we're celebrating our first year of friendship. Thank you for always being here for me, for being the best writing partner ever, for being my best friend through thick and thin. I hope I can always do the same for you. Love you to the moon and back <3

Masterlist

"Okay... I sense that you're not really in a great mood?" Kirishima asked as he entered Alma's room and even the lights were flickering with the power of her frustration. "Do you want me to distract you, talk about it, or leave and give you some space?"

She looked up at him and the lights finally turned off as she collapsed on her bed. "I need a shark hug," she cried, holding her arms open for him.

With a little smile, he jumped into her arms like a dog, covering her in kisses. The reason why he decided to visit in the first place was that Ji-ae had warned him of the fog seeping out from under Alma's door, meaning something bad was brewing in her brain or her heart.

"I'm the worst friend ever," she murmured, her eyes filled with tears.

"Why? I think you're a great friend!"

"You have to say that, it's your job."

"Before we were dating, we were friends and I promise I'm not just saying that to make you happy. I actually believe you are. Why are you feeling this way?"

Iwazaki sighed in the most dramatic fashion, as she does, and a pained sob escaped her lips. Her already puffy red eyes were leaking her sadness and the darkness in the room seemed to get even darker, if that was even possible.

"In two weeks it's our friendship anniversary, we were supposed to make each other gifts to celebrate. The problem is that I'm untalented, useless, unoriginal, a total piece of shit and I don't even deserve her as my friend."

Kirishima rolled over with a grunt, trapping his girlfriend in a firm embrace. She didn't seem to have problems coming up with gifts for the people she loved. For Christmas, she got him limited edition Crimson Riot merch, made a sweater for All Might from scratch, got everyone their favorite candy, sent a scarf to her mom, and... Oh yeah, what did she give Ji-ae?

Oh, that's right! She bought vintage games for her and a special console with pink glittery controllers. That was an amazing gift, or so he thought, why was she having such a hard time with this one?

"Why don't you ask Bakubro? I bet he'll know what she wants."

"Are you kidding me? I've been her friend for way longer than they've been dating, I know what she wants," Alma scoffed. Despite the fact that she was the one who set the two of them up, sometimes she was a little bit jealous of her best friend being so close to someone else. "The problem is that... I wanted to give her something we could enjoy together, I wanna pour my heart into that gift and make her happy. I want her to know how special she is to me, but nothing I can think of is genuine enough to convey those feelings."

"Hey! What the fuck is going on in there? I can hear you crying from across the hall, it's fucking annoying, floaty!" Bakugou banged on the door.

"Katsuki! Be nice!" Ji-ae hissed, holding his hand to stop him from hitting the door again. "Are you okay, Alma? Can we come in?"

"Sure, whatever," she replied, defeated.

"Great, we can solve this! Ji-ae, Alma is having a little issue with yo-" before Kirishima could finish his sentence, his girlfriend covered his mouth and shook her head in panic.

She didn't want her friend to worry or think that she was a burden in any way. Not to mention, she didn't wanna admit her own flaws, it was a little humiliating that she couldn't create something nice like the bouquet of origami roses Kendo made for Jicchan's birthday.

She couldn't make origami, she couldn't draw, or write, or paint, it was too hot for a knitted sweater, and they didn't share her interest in vintage collectibles.

"What's going on?" Ji-ae asked, turning the lights on to which Bakugou laughed.

"Fuck, you look rough," he glanced at Alma and she flipped him off. "What? You've got black shit all over your face from crying, you look like a monster from a horror movie."

"You look like your parents' biggest disappointment," she countered, not seeing how Katsuki was, in fact, worried too. Of course he didn't show, he'd rather die, but he cared about her.

"Spit it out, what is going on? You're usually tough, so it must be serious," he grumbled, pulling a chair for himself while Ji-ae joined her friends in bed.

"None of your beeswax."

"Can you tell me then?" Ji-ae whispered, pointing at her ear as if asking her friend to do the same.

"It's silly, you don't need to worry, Jicchan," Alma wrapped her arms around the other girl and leaned against her shoulder. "You guys are all making a big deal out of it, it's not that serious. If you keep fussing, Yuga-chan will shove cheese down my throat again, Deku is gonna tell All Might-sensei, who's gonna worry for no reason, and Aizawa-sensei is gonna send me to see Hound Dog-sensei, he freaks me out really bad. Then Monoma-kun is gonna tell everyone that I'm unhinged and my mom will-"

"Boys, can you give us just a second?" Ji-ae asked.

Kirishima nodded, already thinking of all the ways he was gonna spoil Iwazaki with pizza and old movies for their date night. Bakugou tsked and left, trusting that his girlfriend would know exactly what to do to help.

Alma felt so embarrassed, she hated to create drama and make a storm in a glass of water (as her mom would always say), but her love for her best friend was serious business. She never had friends before, the nature of her quirk and her severe mood swings would always push people away.

"Is this about our Galentine anniversary celebration?" Ji-ae asked.

"How did you know?"

"I know everything about you, what's wrong?"

Shaking her head, Iwazaki, tried to stop crying (unsuccessfully). It would be unfair to mark such an important moment with her mental instability.

It all started when Kendo asked a few days back if they were doing anything for the "occasion", and as much as Alma loved her fellow class 1-B friend, she hated her for having such an easy time when it was her turn.

Why do my emotions always have to be such a hurricane inside my head? Why can't I be chill like everyone else?

"Maybe we shouldn't exchange gifts..." she muttered.

"What? No, I already have yours! You don't need to get me anything, but I still want you to have mine," Ji-ae insisted, only making Alma feel even worse.

"I suck! Why do you like me? You're my best friend and I can't even do something so simple for you."

"You're my best friend too, and you don't suck. I don't care about the gift, as long as you put all that passion into it, I'm sure I'll love whatever you come up with. You could draw me a stick figure portrait of us holding hands for all I care."

"I love you, Jicchan," Alma cried. "I promise I'll make the best gift you can possibly imagine even if I stay up all day and all night for the next two weeks."

"I love you so much. And that is the most valuable gift I could ask for," Ji-ae gently kissed the top of her friend's head. "You, Alma, having you is enough... But I wouldn't complain if you made one of those tres leches cakes your mom always brings when she visits."

"Okay, yeah, that can be arranged."

#bnha #mha #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #friend oc #her hero academia #oc: alma iwazaki #oc: ji ae yeong #friendiversary 2022

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lick-me-lennon22 · 3 years

Text

George caring for a sick Dhani 💜

(thank you to @pmak2002 for this request!! it was supposed to be just a blurb but I did a little research beforehand and it ended up pretty much becoming a whole fic 😅 oops... either way, I hope you enjoy this one! 💕)

When Dhani wakes up for school on Monday morning, he immediately knows something his wrong. His throat is sore, his nose is runny, and his muscles ache like nothing he's felt before. He painstakingly drags himself out of bed, clutching the sheet around him, and heads straight to his parents' bedroom where he finds his mum Olivia still in bed. Dhani notices that the bathroom door is cracked open and cautiously steps inside to find his father, George, brushing his teeth. "Dad..?" he says quietly, voice hoarse. George startles, turning around to see Dhani in his unfortunate state and spits his mouthful of toothpaste into the sink, letting the water wash it down the drain before turning the tap off. "What is it, my boy? You sound bloody awful..," he gently presses the back of his hand to Dhani's forehead to assess his temperature. "You seem to be running quite the fever, son- let's get you to the doctor, all right? Just let me finish up in here and I'll be right out to take ye" George says. Dhani nods weakly, coughing into his elbow, and shuffles out of the room. George jumps into action- he swishes and spits some mouthwash, changes out of his sleepwear into a button-up and jeans, and sprints to the car, his son following close behind him and hopping into the passenger's seat.

"This is ridiculous.." George mutters under his breath as he walks his son out of the clinic and gets into the driver's seat of his car. They had been able to see the doctor almost instantly upon arriving; he had taken some swabs, run a few tests, and determined that Dhani had contracted the flu: "He probably picked it up from school," the doc had said. When George had requested a prescription of some kind to alleviate his son's symptoms, the doctor simply shook his head: "I'm afraid there isn't much we can do for him. The flu's been going around at many schools, I've seen a lot of children this past week with the same complaints. As it stands, all I can tell you is to give him some over-the-counter medicine, bring him some saltwater to gargle for that sore throat, and be sure he gets plenty of fluids and bedrest." George tried to argue, stating that there must be something he can do to cure Dhani of his illness sooner- but as the doc's hands were tied and George didn't want to subject his son to more stress, he took Dhani by the hand and led him out of the office, through the lobby, and back to the car. "Alright, my boy," George sighs- "seeing that the doctor was no help whatsoever, we're headed straight to the drugstore for anything that'll help you feel better. Sound good?"

"Yeah Dad, sounds good" Dhani croaks out and smiles weakly, glad just to spend some time with his father. Being a famous musician and all, George isnt able to spend as much time with his son as he'd like to, a lot of it consumed by work and media-related endeavors. Dhani admired his Dad more than anyone else in his life and though they rarely got the chance to hang out nowadays, they were practically best friends and had formed a close bond throughout his childhood. George was always a fun parent, bringing his son along to festivals and such ("Don't tell yer mum," he'd say with a grin), and sticking up for Dhani to authority figures and even other kids at his school- he was fiercely protective of his boy. However, he was also a gentle parent who allowed Dhani the chance to explore and express himself, and had fostered a mutual respect between the two of them since his son was but a toddler.

"I'm pulling you from school for the whole week" "But what if I'm- *cough*- all better before then?" "Just in case, Dhani- it's not like you really need them and their indoctrination, anyway.." George grumbles, never having been a fan of traditional schools or their teachings. Dhani however has always cared about his grades and paid close attention to the lessons he's been taught, in spite of what his father thinks. "...Okay, Dad" he says meekly, wanting to protest but unwilling to sacrifice more quality time with his famous father. George pulls into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore and marches in, intent on gathering all the supplies his sick boy could need: tissues, lozenges, cough syrup, pain medication, ice packs, and even more tissues- 'just in case.' He makes his way to the checkout, queuing up, paying for the items and hauling his bags back to the car. He drives Dhani home as quickly as possible, carrying him to bed and tucking him in before calling and cancelling any studio time, interviews, or collaborations he'd previously planned. There's only one committment he can't cancel- dinner with Paul tonight for the first time in ages. George sets his son up with all of the remedies he'd bought and tells his wife Olivia everything about the situation, including the "unhelpful and useless" doctor they had gone to see. She of course agrees to care for Dhani, sending her husband on his way to dinner with one of his long-time best friends.

The following day George rises just before noon, having stayed up late to pal around with Macca. He runs the few errands on his agenda, including grabbing his family some lunch, and pulls into his driveway back home where he spots the vehicle of none other than Richard Starkey parked outside. He makes his way to his son's room to discover that Uncle Ringo had come to visit the sick young lad (having found out from Paul that Dhani had come down with a bad case of the flu), joking and cheering him up to distract him from his poor state. The two close friends chat for some time in the living room before Ritchie departs, Olivia checking up on Dhani in the meantime. George thanks his wife and dismisses her from her nurse duties, taking on the responsibility himself. He tiptoes to his son's bedroom cautiously and enterd to see that he's been tucked in, the ice pack George had picked up from the store the previous day resting on his forehead, half-lidded eyes trained onto the telly. "Dhani..?" "Oh- *cough*- hey, Dad"

George approaches the bed and sits down carefully, holding a paper bag out to Dhani. "I brought you a burrito- your favorite," he grins down at his son, who takes the bag: "Really? *cough*- Thanks Dad, you're the best!" he says, hands emerging from the blankets to tear into the treat. George stays sat on the bed, determined to spend time with his sick boy and make sure he knows how loved he is. Glancing around the room at the piano and guitars he's bought and played with Dhani, then back to the young man, Ringo's words from earlier echo in his mind: "He's growing up into such a wonderful lad. He's just like you, ye know- good looks and all."

Olivia had always said they were very alike, but he'd usually dismissed the observation... until now. George couldn't help but realize that they were right- though he was but eleven years old Dhani was already becoming a very talented and creative musician, having learned much about music from his dad. He'd certainly taken after his Beatle father in that regard, and they were in fact very similar- not to mention their near identical looks. Sharing his Dad with the world had been difficult and a bit isolating for Dhani despite his many school mates. He admired and looked up to George from a very young age, always striving to be just like him. As Dhani grew up before George's eyes, he became more and more like his father by the day and George was immensely proud.

His train of thought was broken suddenly when Dhani finished the burrito, crumpling the paper bag and tossing it into the bin. He landed the throw, earning a hearty laugh and a high five from his father. He closed his eyes and laid back, George stroking his hair gently, the two of them cherishing this moment of father-son love. "Are you gettin' sleepy, Dhani?" he asked tenderly- his son nodded in response, already drowsy despite the brightness of the late afternoon sun. "Tell you what- I'll play you a lullaby, that way you can rest easier and know that I'm here beside you." "Dad," Dhani chuckled, "aren't I a little too old for that?" he lied, secretly longing for the affectionate gesture. George grabbed his son's acoustic guitar from its stand and begin to tune it: "You're never too old for yer old man's love and attention, eh? Now you just relax, close your eyes, and rest." Dhani didn't protest any further, heeding his father's instructions with a soft smile on his face. With that, George began to play- he chose "Here Comes The Sun," fingers strumming the strings gently and with care, dedicating the sweet words to his beloved son. By the time he was finished Dhani was fast asleep- grin faltering as he drifted off, but still visible on his lips. George placed the guitar back on the stand gently, taking care not to wake the sleeping lad. He smiled to himself, tears welling in his eyes as he turned to admire his son's peaceful face. "I love you, my boy," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on Dhani's forehead before tip-toeing out of the room and shutting the door cautiously. Back pressed against the wooden door, George let his eyelids fall shut and sighed: "Sweet dreams, Dhani." ♡

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