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thevoidscreams · 24 days

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Request prompt for mating press March for you!

You have recently been assigned as a chapter serf for the black templars and have been trying your best but it’s tiring work and during one of your late shifts you have fallen asleep! You thought you’d gotten away with it and no one had noticed but the next day you are told the chaplain has asked for you. Turns out he spotted you whilst you were sleeping on the job when you should have been attending your sacred duties. Perhaps big stern dom chaplain will teach you a lesson to reaffirm your faith…

Day 19

Pairing: Chaplin Soren (oc)x reader

Warnings: mentions of religion, spanking, bondage, cumming inside, power imbalance (if you squint)

My head snapped up, and I shook it as I looked around, confused. I clenched a soft rag in my hand, and brushed a stray bit of drool from my lip. What was I doing here?

It came back to me as I smelled the smoke from the censer. I had been polishing the steps leading up to the altar inside one of the ship's many chapel.

I looked around in a panic. No one was around. How long had I drifted off for? A few minutes, a few hours.

Throne preserve me, I'd fallen asleep on the job. This was sure not to go over so well if I was seen. Hopefully, I could finish up quickly and be on my way. I didn't see anyone, and surely I would have been chastised for falling asleep in a place of worship. The chapel wasn't for napping. It was for giving praise and worship to the god emperor. I bowed my head and continued on with my task, ashamed. Finishing the task as swiftly as I could I hurried out. At least no one saw me.

Dark eyes watched from behind the visor of the skull. Disappointment and disapproval swelled in Soren's hearts. He had liked you as much as it was possible for an astartes of his station to like a serf. You'd done excellent work up until this point, so diligent, completing tasks without complaint. And your work in this very room meant that you'd built a good report. It was a shame you'd likely never see him the same after he decided your punishment.

His hands twitched as he reminded himself that you are only a human. You do not have his endurance. But still sleeping in the chapel could not be allowed to go without some form of penance being served.

He felt his body stirring at the idea. He'd have to punish you so you didn't do this again. He'd have to be..very thorough.

The next day I was assigned to the chapel again on orders of Soren, one of the kinder and more personable chaplins. I thought about him and the odd request as I ran my rag over the stone steps again. I wondered if there was a reason I was to clean it again at night. Probably as not to interfere with the worship during the day.

The sound of ceramite on stone made me look up sharply. I was almost done.

"Good evening, my lord." I spoke reverently, not looking up past his greaves. I knew who he was without having to look past that point.

I'd cleaned his armor enough times to know it by heart.

"It is rather late, little one." His rich voice greeted me from behind the skull.

"Yes, I am almost finished. This is the last step, it took me a bit longer last night as well. There’s much to do." I replied, heart beating a bit faster than normal. I liked the Chaplin, Soren. I found him insightful and he was often good company to have while I worked. He would tell me stories.

"Perhaps you would have finished sooner had you not been sleeping."

My body went cold, not like the room was chilly, but as if my blood had spontaneously frozen in my veins. My hand stopped over the step and my limbs locked up, tense as if readying to make a run for it.

"It would seem you understand just how unacceptable this action is. Perhaps it was merely a mistake. I wouldn't have taken you for someone who disrespects the god Emperor. But then again, I am no psyker, I cannot see a person's soul."

"It was an accident my lord. My body was weak, there was so much work...forgive me..." My voice came out quiet, like a mouse.

“That is no excuse. If you are not fit for the rigors of your station then perhaps you might better serve in another form.”

My chest tightened and I found tears of fright blurring my eyes.

“It will not happen again, I promise. Please my Lord. I do not wish to serve as a servitor.”

Soren laughed, it was a deep rolling sound that flowed over the stones around me and despite my fear I found the sound lifting my soul ever so slightly.

“Dry your tears serf. I will not tell anyone. You have served well until now and I, unlike many of my brothers, understand that your body has limits that you can not always fight.” So he’d been jesting, just to see me squirm. He wasn’t going to have me turned into a mindless robotic slave.

He grabbed my arm, I was going to drop to my knees and kiss his ceramite clad feet in thanks but I found myself up on my feet, his free hand tilting my face back to face his helm.

“But you will need to face some punishment for this. You have allowed yourself to falter in your duties to our Emperor. You must confess and repent for these sins. I will handle you and this event will stay between us. If I deem it satisfactory then no one else will need to know.”

I nodded, fresh tears of relief streaked down my cheeks.

“Thank you my lord. I am so very sorry.”

Soren still held my arm and forced me, much more gently than I had expected towards a room towards the back where I had never been before.

The door was heavy, an ornate carved wooden door. My body was pressed firmly against it by him as he reached for the knob. I felt a familiar heat in my belly as he grunted softly and forced it open on creaky hinges.

The room was dim, lit only by the candles on a desk.

“I will remove my armor and hear your confession.”

I tilted my head in confusion as he let me go. Take his armor off, why would he need to do that?

He began to pull away pieces of his plate, placing them carefully, almost lovingly on a stand. I averted my gaze as he began to remove his body glove, my cheeks were probably very pink.

His helm was the final thing he pulled away and I found myself mesmerized by him. He was younger than I’d thought. His hair was a deep brown, cut short and neat. His skin was pale and his features were sharp. Throne he was beautiful, I found myself unable to look away. His eyes were dark, so deep I’d thought they were black till he lit a match off one candle to light several more. The depth of that blue was entrancing. The blueness of his eyes grew more apparent.

I felt as though I could dive into those blue pools and never resurface.

Soren came towards me, I hadn’t realized that I’d been backing up until my back hit the wall. He looked good in nothing but light pants and a tabard.

“You will confess to me now.” His deep voice sounded so clear and precise without the filter of a helmet. It sent pleasant shivers through my body.

“Yes, my lord.”

He guided me to my knees and I bowed my head in shame. Remembering why I was here.

“Tell me. What have you done?”

“I fell asleep in the middle of my duties to the Emperor. Leaving them unfinished while I rested. And I did so in the chapel. I slept in a holy place of worship.”

“Good. You have made a good confession. Is there anything else you would like to confess?”

I shook my head earnestly, I was sure that that was all.

“Very well, I will administer your penance, and you will repent.”

He made a motion for me to stand. I did, he took my arm in his and slapped a black iron cuff around it.

I flinched in surprise, he only chuckled. “Do not fight me. And this will go quickly.”

He took another cuff and locked it around my other wrist.

They were heavy and linked with a thick iron chain just as dark in color.

“For your penance,” he began as he dragged me to the wall and hung my chain on a hook just high up enough that I had to stand on the tips of my toes. “You will have one lash for every ten minutes you lay on the emperor's steps.”

One for every ten minutes. How long had I slept, two hours? That was twelve! Twelve lashes!

I craned my head to try and get a look at whatever implement he'd chosen and was surprised again to see not a flail or whip, but a paddle.

His bulky hand gripped the hem of my light gown and lifted it until the dress was over my head.

I wiggle my face free of the fabric and gasped as his fingers tugged my panties down as well. Leaving me with no layers between myself and the lather paddle.

Soren moved to a place where I couldn't turn my head and see him.

Soren admired the soft skin of your ass as he looked for just the right spot to begin. Throne you were a stunning creature. He felt his own excitement at having you chained and helpless under him.

He ought to be the one on his knees confessing. He was a Chaplin after all. But the way you whined in discomfort as you tapped around on the tips of your toes and looked so meek made his body hot.

He ran calloused fingers over the leather and then reached out to touch your warm supple skin.

Beautiful. Magnificent. Gorgeous. All failed to express how perfect you looked right then.

Drawing the paddle along your rump he felt his manhood twitch at your gasp.

You were enjoying this too much, he decided. He came to your side, paddle in hand and pulled it back to deliver a hardy thwack against your skin and he drank in your cry with a stifled groan of his own.

The pain was sudden and hot. My right cheek stung as the paddle made contact. It hurt, so why did I not cry out in pain. And why was there a deep and sudden urge to feel more of that burn?

“Count.”

Soren demanded.

I drew in a shaky breath. “One.”

“Good.”

He brought the paddle down on the other cheek.

“Two.” I squeaked the number.

I felt strange, a certain anticipation for the next blow growing. I gasped as his next blow went a bit lower and I heard Soren grunt in satisfaction at something.

“Three.” I mewed.

It was much the same for four and five.

I felt something warm trickle down my thighs and thought for a moment that I was bleeding.

Soren brought the paddle down for six, his manhood was rock hard now. The sight of your excitement dripping down your thighs was simply splendid. “Six~”

He hung the paddle on the hook next to the one you were chained to.

He needed this, his rough hands brushed your rump.

“Chaplin?”

Your voice, your body, your everything. It drove him mad.

His hand came down causing an audible mewl of pleasure to pour from your lips.

He licked his parched lips.

“Number?” He growled.

“Seven.”

“Good..” He almost called you a good girl. “Five more.”

I nodded at his words.

His free hand held my hip as he brought the other down to clap against my ass.

“Mmm!~ E-eight!” This was meant to be a punishment, I shouldn't have been enjoying it.

His hand seemed to linger before he drew it away.

Bringing it back down, alternating which cheek he struck.

Soren was practically panting as you moaned the word “nine” . He looked down at your soaked thighs, licking his lips and closing his eyes as he took a steadying breath.

It only served to fill his nose with your heady and feminine scent.

The Chaplin swallowed and raised his hand, bringing it down again, you counted out and he watched a trickle of slick fluids course down from your wet lower lips.

My ass was on fire, but I'd never felt so high.

Only two more, I whined at the thought. After these next two he'd send me away. I didn't want that, I didn't want him to send me off into the world never to speak of this again.

I'd just have to savor this.

His hand came down, I gasped, and wantonly moaned the next number. “Eleven.”

Soren came around to my back again, I could hear his quiet panting. Was he as affected by this as I was?

“Just one more.”

“Yes, my lord. Give me my just punishment.” The words seemed to pour forth unbidden.

Soren tensed, his hand on the verge of delivering the final blow.

He gave it, in the center of your ass. His hands came away wet, a splotch of your juices on his fingers.

He barely registered your count as he raised his fingers to his lips, he needed this, but it was wrong. Wasn't it?

His tongue darted out and his cock jumped as your salty musk coated his tongue.

His eyes slid shut, it was a moment of pure indulgence. The flavor was unlike anything he'd ever tasted. Fertile with the promise of your body.

Soren could bear it no longer and dropped to his knees. His hands gripping your thighs, just as taste, it was all he needed. A taste.

I was shocked by his actions, my voice failing me as I waited for whatever it was he was going to do.

I felt his thumbs brush the softness of my lower lips as he pulled them apart. I moaned softly into the fabric that had been pulled up and over my neck.

“My lord? What-” My question died on my lips as his tongue ran up my thigh. Collecting the warm sticky fluids I'd been spilling since we began.

He stopped just below my cunt and I whimpered. His tongue then made the slow torturously slow path up my other thigh.

Throne I needed more, I needed him to do this properly.

Was this part of the punishment, teasing me with that hot muscle till I was half mad with need? I already felt close to that anyway. But I doubted it, none of this felt like it was calculated. A spur of the moment decision to indulge in a forbidden fruit.

I could feel his breath, hot and wet as he rubbed at the outer edges of my cunt. His fingers dug into the meat of my thighs and I felt him lean in, silently urging him to do it.

Soren's mind raced, his thoughts a jumble. The sweetness called to him. He watched as a fresh gush of arousal wetted your entrance, and his breathing hitched as he felt the desire to lap it up with his tongue.

He shook his head, his knees felt shaky aashe stood. It was an alien sensation, uncertainty.

“Your punishment has absolved you of your sins… but you still lack the strength you need to finish your tasks. I will..” He swallowed. “I will fill you with the strength you need.”

The raw excitement that I felt was like nothing I'd experienced before.

“Yes, please my Lord. I am weak.” I gasped, submitting to his will and judgment.

I felt something warm and solid hit my back and jolted in place. His hand grasped the thing and his fingers grazed against my back as he stroked himself.

“Beg.”

It was all he had to say.

“Please my Lord, I am so weak. So frail, I need you to lend me your strength, your certainty. So I may serve the emperor with the same fervor and will as you.”

I felt the tip of his cock catch at my entrance and shivered. Then there was a terrible burning as he pressed in his length, made only a fraction easier by my wetness. He was big, so, so big.

He filled me, leaving me breathless as I felt his tip somewhere near my stomach.

Soren leaned over me, a groan welling up from his lips as his hands found the walls for support.

Soren's eyes practically rolled back in his skull as he pushed in as far as he could go. Breathing a few words of adoration as he regained his senses.

His right hand remained on the wall as his left arm grabbed you around the waist. Lifting you just a bit off the floor as your hands grasped the chain making it rattle

“I will give you all that you need, you need only ask.” His hips pulled back, his cock slipping out a fraction, a groan of satisfaction at finally tending to his more human needs accompanied the action.

He wasn't going to stop till he was fully satisfied.

He set a hard even pace, his hips clapping against your tender backside.

I whined, the pain hadn’t lasted, as soon as he began his cock touched all the empty places inside me that I hadn’t known were there.

I cried out for him, begging, pleading, my desperation for his cock was almost shameful. But my shame was the farthest thing from my mind at that moment. I just wanted to cum on him, and feel him cum in me in return.

It was a greedy feeling. Wanting more than he was already giving me. His chest was a persistent heat on my back and he panted out each breath.

Though I knew his transhuman form was not winded.

“Does my body please my lord?”

He groaned, and I felt a smattering of drool hit my shoulder blade as his face lowered down to press into my neck.

“It is..” He grunted, “an excellent vessel to receive the grace of the emperor. I should keep you filled, so that you may never falter. I will have to see to this task.. personally.” He moaned the last word and I clenched around him involuntarily as I understood his meaning.

“I would be honored by my lord’s offer. I would cherish the feeling of being filled by his strength and light. Please my Lord.” I squeaked, pressing my cheek against him. “Please never let me be empty of you.”

He groaned, and picked up his pace, lifting me further till my chain came off the hook. Soren held me as he stumbled back into a chair with me in his lap. He grunted and the sudden change in position forced me down on his cock further. Soren fucked me with an almost mindless need. Mumbling under his breath as if he was praying.

“Never let you be empty. Keep you full of the light. Keep you.. full.”

His left hand went to my stomach and he touched it with such love. It made me shiver and made my head spin.

“Yes.. full.” I gasped and finally came undone on his cock.

Soren fucked me through it, his pace increasing unevenly as he worked his way up to his climax.

He held me down on his cock as he let loose all of his seed.

I felt the heat with every pulse of his cock as he continued to fill my womb with rope after rope.

It felt like he came forever, but really it could only have been a few seconds. Yet I was full by the time he was done.

Just as he promised.

Soren undid the cuff, setting them on his desk and fixing my dress.

Then he took me to a cot I hadn't noticed before, he sat us down and laid me across his lap. Picking up a small bottle from a box next to his bed.

I wasn't sure what he was doing until he lifted the dress again and poured a generous amount of oil onto my still reddened ass.

He set the bottle aside and his calloused hands set to work, massaging the oil into my sore cheeks.

“Thank you.” I broke the silence and he hummed.

“I.. I will not say that I am sorry for all that had transpired here. You took your punishment well..but afterwards.. I did not intend for that. You must forgive me.”

He urged and I did something I didn't expect. I laughed.

It was such an absurd circumstance I just couldn't help it.

“Why are you laughing?” His hand clenched around my ass cheek and I could hear the hurt in his voice.

“There’s nothing to forgive my lord. I would happily do that with you again. And besides, I believe you said you would keep me full right?”

I peek over my shoulders to see his face darken with a blush. It was very cute.

“I would not force that on you.” He told me as he kept rubbing.

“I figured.. but, I enjoyed it. Very much so, that was the best I've ever had.”

“Truely?”

“Yeah, if anything, I feel I should be thanking you. It was fun, even if it was meant to be a punishment.”

Soren met my gaze and held it.

“I will have you assigned to this chapel then.. you will see to its care and when you do a good job… I will keep you filled.”

I smiled at his words. “Thank you my lord.”

He finished and I was going to get up but he pulled me into him, laying down.

“The stairs-” I began but he cut me off.

“Will be there in the morning. Rest now.”

I nodded and laid my head on his chest, sleep came easy.

Soren held you close for hours, just brushing his hands over your form and watching you as you slept. It was good that you rested so easily in his arms. You were going to need all the strength you could get because he was already planning on fulfilling his promise when you woke up.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer #40k #my writing #mating press march #warhammer 40k x reader #astartes x reader #black templar #black templar oc x reader #oc x reader #my oc

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my-own-walker · 3 months

Text

Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

19.

Alone, together. Making up for lost time.

My lipstick smudged on his lips after stolen kisses in bathrooms at parties. His arms snaking around me from behind in my apartment's kitchen at 3 am, his chin resting atop my head. Study dates occurred nightly, often devolving into naps, cuddles, kisses, or more.

There in my room, we laid. Way less weekly frat house forays for me. Kyle practically lived at Lily and I's place.

I feared Lily would hate it, with her personal space being invaded, and all. But she really liked him. Her attitude toward him changed after that night when they teamed up to rescue me. It took a bit for her to tell me what went down when they got me back to our place.

"It wasn't what you needed to hear at the time," she shrugged when she finally decided to tell me. From what I understand, it happened a bit like this:

Lily's POV

"She come to yet?" Leon asked from the driver's seat, his tone dripping with concern. His dark eyebrows were furrowed, eyes laser-focused and intent on getting us back as quickly as possible. He directed his question to the back seat, where Kyle sat cradling Hannah's head, preventing it from bobbling around as he hit bumps and took turns.

"Nah, man..." Kyle trailed off, looking down at her unconscious form. She was limp, eyes cracking open just slightly every so often.

Leon's question pissed me off. Unnecessarily so. "Fucking- of course she's not awake, Leon. She got fucking roofied."

"Sorry, Lil," he muttered, twisting one of his curls around his finger. He chewed his lip and turned the steering wheel hand-over-hand into the parking area behind our apartment. He let go of the curl and it sprung tightly back into place as he threw the car into park.

Wordlessly, Leon and I unbuckled our seatbelts as Kyle opened the left-side back door. Both of us rushed to aid him in getting Hannah out of the car, but after getting out, he immediately bent down and picked her up bridal style as he did at the party.

"Kyle, we can help," I began, reaching my hand up and brushing a hair out of Hannah's face.

"I got her," he rasped, adjusting his hold and turning in the direction of the building. "Which way's your place?"

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, allowing him to have his hero moment, but only because it was in Hannah's best interest for me not to argue with him. I pointed toward our back door.

"Sh-should I go?" Leon stuttered behind me. "I think he's got it."

I turned around and buried myself in Leon's arms. I couldn't help but need comfort in the moment. It was selfish, but as soon as his embrace tightened around me, I felt a sense of clarity and a new capacity to help. "Thank you, Leon. I love you," I sniffled into his chest.

"She's going to be okay, Lil. I can come in if you need," he said lowly.

"No, go back to your boyfriend. I'm sorry we interrupted your time."

"Oh, hush. Anything for you and Han," he whispered, releasing me and holding me by my shoulders at arm's length, looking into my eyes. "I promise."

"Get back safe," I muttered, turning on my heel to rush after Kyle, who was practically at the door.

I picked up the pace to a light jog, fumbling in my small handbag for my keys. I watched Hannah's head roll toward Kyle's body, resting lazily on his shoulder. His immediate response was to stroke the back of her head, not a thought behind it. I reached the door and unlocked it in a swift motion, hustling in before the two of them.

"Her room is back here," I called out, not even turning the lights on or glancing back in their direction. I swung the door to Hannah's room open and waited by the entrance for Kyle to pass me. He hesitated and took in the room for a split second before taking her over to her bed and placing her down gingerly.

He turned her over on her side and turned away, striding quickly back toward the door. Only then did he hunch over, hands on his knees, and take a deep, shaky breath. My eyes darted between Kyle and Hannah. Hannah and Kyle. Who to acknowledge first? Who to help first?

I deemed Hannah okay enough for the moment for me to be able to check on Kyle. "She's not that heavy," I quipped, forcing a small, dry laugh out of him. I stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

He straightened up stiffly, still facing the exit, rather than her. He took another shaky breath before responding. "Honestly, all that matters to me right now is if she's okay. I don't even know how I am," he uttered. "I know it'll pass, but it's heavy."

"Yeah...it's intense," I agreed, turning my head to stare at Hannah, who looked as if she were sleeping peacefully. Face still like a young child in a deep slumber.

"Can you, uh, text me when she wakes up? I can give you my number," he sniffled. I looked back in his direction and watched him wipe his eyes. He turned his head to look at me and I nodded. "I love her, Lily. I'm sorry, but I do." His eyes were glassy and pleading.

"I do, too," was all I could muster.

"I let go of the illusion that things could have gone any different. She may hate me forever. But I love her," he spoke, just barely above a whisper. " I can't imagine a day I won't."

I found home in his arms.

He held me tenderly. I lay cradled in his arms, tracing the veins that twisted their way up them with my finger. My head rested lazily on his chest. His heart thudded quietly beneath my ear.

Kyle slept soundly beneath me. He took a deep breath before shifting slightly, squeezing his arms tightly around me. He then returned to sleeping peacefully.

It was the middle of the night and I couldn't sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about him. Us. He looked at me like there was something there worth looking at. He talked about me as if I put the stars in the sky.

I couldn't believe the boy I thought hated me felt this way about me. That I was lying in his arms planning our future.

It was beautiful. I couldn't have asked for anything more.

Previous Part

#kyle spencer #kyle spencer imagine #kyle spencer headcanons #kyle spencer x reader #evan peters fic #evan peters x reader #evan peters x female reader #evan peters oneshot #evan peters #ahs #ahs fanfic

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scoops-aboy86 · 3 months

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literally so happy to hear you have wide open asks.... I LOVE the idea you brought up about Steve gaining weight just kinda slowly and steadily because he loves to eat and is tired of denying himself....... and how might Eddie respond to this newly relaxed and bigger Steve?

Hi, hello! Yeah, Steve needs a break, man. Those regularly unscheduled beatings take a toll, he’s just tired. I read something once that referred to him gaining weight after the Upside Down stuff is done for good as his “peace body” and that lives in my brain rent free.

I hope this answers your question because I kind of got carried away:

Eddie loves relaxed Steve, especially as he unlearns some of his own “jacks bad nerds good” and “popular bad outcast good” dichotomies that he’s built up as part of his armor over the years. Steve, he realizes, is not just a good dude, but a chill dude too.

Sure, he’s a little fussy about his hair, and sometimes his clothes—complains a little when his polos start not quite fitting the way they used to, although Eddie personally can’t see any problem with that. Steve is just hot, okay? He was hot in gym class in those little green shorts, in basketball games in those little white shorts, and he’s just as hot (if not even prettier) lounging back with a joint in one hand, a soda in the other, and a little sliver of belly peeking out the bottom of his shirt. Because he’s happier now. Cozy. Eddie takes any opportunity he can get to lay his head on Steve’s lap because he has just the best thighs.

Meanwhile, Steve—who’s only fussing because he’s had a thing for Eddie ever since “dontcha, big boy” launched him into a sexuality crisis last March, and he’s used to getting dates because he looks good, so he wants to look good—just sort of melts any time Eddie leans or lays on him. This has occasionally made him late for work or picking up Robin or the kids, but more often it just means that he asks “Can you get me…” a lot. Which is difficult for him to do! Because he’s used to the idea that he can take care of himself, and he can take care of other people, but why should other people have to take care of him? But he can and has sat still for hours if it means that Eddie gets in a decent nap, or is enjoying the movie that’s on, or whatever. If he has to go to the bathroom, he’ll hold it. Robin teases him that her dad is the same way about the family cat… which kind of indirectly leads to Steve learning that Eddie loves head scritches. (He totally white lies to her and says that Eddie asked him to do that, but actually he did it one time without thinking and Eddie asked him in a slightly hoarse voice to do that again. And then got up shortly afterwards to go to the bathroom, allowing Steve to stretch his legs and take a bathroom break of his own.)

And it’s only a matter of time, what with the gradually waning nightmares as it finally sinks in that the danger is over, the not being on alert all the time, the fact that Steve is no longer a teenager or on any sports teams, the recreational smoking, the metalhead lapcat… Only a matter of time before Eddie settles into place and feels where Steve’s tummy is starting to encroach on his spot.

It’s after a small party (just the older UD crew) when everyone else but Robin has already gone home, and he’s just high and sleepy and a little tipsy enough to roll over and snuggle in without thinking about it, nuzzling that sliver of tan skin and chest hair and just breathing Steve in with a happy sigh. His body feels floaty enough that he vaguely thinks that Steve must have carried him upstairs to his bedroom, and this is Steve’s pillow or something.

Steve is frozen in place, eyes absolutely huge, staring across the living room to where Robin is watching this happen from the kitchen doorway with an amused smirk on her face. When Eddie brings his hand up to hug the “pillow” closer, Steve mouths “Help me” at her.

She shrugs and spreads her hands like, “What do you want me to do?”

He tries to use eyebrow movements and hand gestures to remind her that of the three of them she’s smoked and drank the least, so she should have the functioning brain cell right now, not him. Because he’s pretty crossfaded too, and fairly full after getting the munchies and going to town on the pizza they’d ordered for the party, and now there’s a cute dude cuddling his belly and it feels good and he’s going to have a reaction soon—

“I don’t need to know about that,” Robin shout-whispers vehemently, and backs into the kitchen mouthing “la-la-la-lesbian” and “I can’t hear you.” Steve vows to write her out of his will. Not that he has one, but still.

Eddie rouses a moment later because his brain is starting to catch up to the fact that it’s not fabric he’s drooling on here. When he half sits up he’s face to face with a very flustered Steve, who is chewing on his plush bottom lip and Eddie wants to, like, help him with that. And then he looks down, and probably part of what woke him up, and his nuzzling has pushed Steve’s shirt up a little more than usual, and slo yep, that’s a boner.

They make eye contact.

“Can I kiss you?” Eddie blurts out, because he definitely wants to and he thinks, based on the boner and the fact that Steve hasn’t shoved him away yet, that maybe Steve does too.

“You’d better,” Steve blurts back, cheeks flaming, because he already has Eddie’s spit drying on his skin. He’s totally flustered and doesn’t even have time to run a hand through his hair before Eddie is straddling his lap, cradling his face gently in both hands, and drawing him into a clumsy but earnest kiss.

They spend the rest of the night kissing and cuddling and talking on the couch, still a little giggly from their highs and Eddie snagging more things for Steve to eat whenever Steve seems even the tiniest bit hungry, because he just looks so happy whenever he’s relaxed and enjoying his food. And if he sneaks some belly rubs in there too, no one else has to know.

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie

#ask #scoops words #i think this is my first anon hurray!#wg steddie #chubby steve harrington

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windvexer · 2 years

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An essay on why we all get so fatigued trying to do witchcraft, and some ideas on what to do about it.

I've mentioned a few (several?) times that I'm trying to rework my practice to be so much lower energy.

I want to practice a lot. My path has responsibilities and demands. I want to be engaged in witchcraft daily and often.

As a part of this I have had to really sit down and untangle the question of chronic magical fatigue, which then turns in to chronic regular fatigue.

I've come to some personal realizations during this quest. Here is one of them, which I would like to suggest as a concept or hypothesis but not a literal truism:

One of the most vital and basic energy working techniques you can learn is feeling how full your "mana tanks" are.

Magical battery, odic fluid, witch-power, whatever you want to call it. It's finite for all of us (even if for some it can recharge faster than they can use it).

I have yet to see a "daily practice" or "101 energy work guide" provide a resource on how to feel how much magical energy you have, and explain how to avoid over-spending it.

I have also never seen a 101 guide ever really explain that "energy-gathering" techniques which are meant to recharge you are in and of themselves draining.

Techniques which refill your mana tanks are often the same techniques as energy raising and energy programming.

E.g.: "Pull energy up from the earth" (energy raising) "and guide it to your spine, imagining that it refills and recharges your whole body" (energy programming).

This is an actively draining technique.

The only passive energy-gathering technique I'm familiar with is just resting.

As humans, this should be common sense! Eating food requires energy (to find food, to prepare it, to consume it) and then can further tire us as our body redirects resources to digestion.

As humans, when many of us get older, we start to realize our physical limits. You know how far you can get in the day on a single bagel. And for many of us, if you've pushed past your limits, your whole day is thrown off. Refueling might make you crash and nap, not suddenly fill you up with a huge burst of energy!

Yet somehow it's pervaded the 101 energy working sphere that a certain energy-gathering exercise - which drains your magical power - will just fill you up and you can do as much magic as you want again. Warnings about not over-exerting are usually like, "take it easy! Only do 1 or 2 minutes if you can't do all 15, or even take the day off ;)" but no actual instructions about how to feel out your limits and know how to reliably stop before you over-exert.

I think that for a lot of people it would be helpful to divide their energy-working abilities into two categories: Muscle and Fuel.

Your energy working Muscle becomes stronger over time. It has its own muscle-memory, and repetition of techniques can allow you to do them faster and better over time. This Muscle behaves very much like your earthly muscles: it burns fuel to work, but it also becomes fatigued and even damaged with over-exertion. It requires regular periods of rest. Once pushed to the point of fatigue, the necessary period of rest becomes a lot longer.

Your energy working Fuel can be thought of as the little magical calories floating around your energy body system. These units of energy are refilled and recharged as we do normal things like eating, sleeping, and engaging in restorative mundane activities. This Fuel doesn't do anything on its own*. In order to utilize it, you have to engage your Muscle. The more that you work with Fuel-collecting and Muscle-using, the more efficient your energy body system becomes at accepting, processing, storing, and expelling Fuel. You can use your Muscle to collect Fuel and store it inside your energy body.

No matter how much Fuel you have, once your Muscle is fatigued, you have to rest.

I can run a marathon (no I can't, but imagine with me) and be totally exhausted. If I eat an entire pizza, will this allow me to suddenly run another marathon? No, of course not!

Now, let's imagine that nobody brought a pizza to me, but I had to walk down to the corner shops to buy one - now, my poor muscles can barely hold me up. Energy-raising exercises still require you to flex your Muscle, and if it's already fatigued, you are probably just shooting yourself in the foot.

Your Fuel and Muscle are not automatically synchronised. And I think a lot of us out here are abusing our poor Muscles, demanding they work again and again and again, not understanding that they need literal periods of rest - hours and days to be allowed to relax, heal, and regrow to a stronger state. And I think a lot of people do believe that just by Refueling, their Muscles are supposed to "magically" work as if they just came of a week of rest.

In my beliefs, this Fuel and Muscle are the same ones we use for divination, spellwork, and spirit contact :) So if you're trying to do tons of these things all the time and thinking that a grounding exercise can replace rest, you're probably literally just… running yourself into the ground.

I would like to propose that if you are having a really hard time dealing with fatigue and energy levels when trying to engage with your practice**, you should learn two techniques: A way to judge the fatigue of your Muscle, and a way to judge the fullness of your Fuel.

Either of these things can be accomplished with a pendulum on a number line (using a pendulum requires usage of your Muscle, by the by!). Bodily sensations may tip you off - I get a strained feeling in my forehead when I'm close to over-exertion. You can also induce a psychic technique, such as asking yourself where you're at and waiting to hear, see, know, feel, or understand where your Muscles and Fuel are at.

I would also like to propose that metaphysical energy gathering can actually be so tiring that it might be inappropriate for everyday use. Raising a ton of energy and infusing it into yourself or objects for later use is a full day's activity, not a quick act you can shove into a morning routine. I'd like to clarify that here I differentiate between energy-raising, and meditative techniques which provide a "grounded," present-moment focused state of mind.

If you're taking suggestions, I would recommend figuring out how much magic you can do before you achieve a state of 50% Muscular fatigue/Fuel exertion, 75%, and 90%. I believe you shouldn't push past your limits. It just hurts. It feels bad, it's exhausting, and it takes exponentially longer to rest and heal. And I think many of us will be surprised at how little magic we can accomplish when we respect our limits.

*Some people who experience a great over-abundance of personal energy do have weird stuff happening around them all the time; it's the metaphysical equivalent of a cat rubbed with a balloon and set loose in a Styrofoam factory.

**Here, I mean people who notice marked upticks in exhaustion and fatigue when working magic, not people with baseline fatigue which just carries forward.

#witchblr #energy work #divination #spirit work #magic #spellwork #grimoire #book of shadows #spellbook #theory

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sirianasims · 3 months

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Chapter 34

So It Goes…

It was Saturday morning and things were becoming predictable.

I had just gotten out of bed as Samuel entered the room. He came straight from the shower after sleeping on the couch again.

I missed him. Even when he was home, he just seemed so far away. By the time he came back from the hospital, he was exhausted. Every second of sleep was precious.

We barely talked. I couldn’t remember when we last had sex. A couple of months, at least.

He was in an even worse mood than usual today. He glared at his phone before going to the closet to get dressed.

“Samuel? Something wrong?”

“Charlie.”

Even with his back to me, his entire body radiated annoyance.

“Charlie? What’s with Charlie?”

“He’s in Copperdale and he wants to visit us.”

There was venom in his voice as he pulled the belt through the loops of his pants with angry movements.

“Oh. But isn’t that a good thing?”

“I guess. I guess I should be thankful that my brother finally deigns to grace us with his presence. Do you know how often I’ve heard from him since the wedding? Twice. To congratulate us on Hailey and Ivy. That’s all.”

“I know, but aren’t you still happy that he wants to visit?”

Samuel sighed heavily.

“Sure. It just pisses me off that everything has to be on his terms. Always. He’s practically been gone since he moved out, doing whatever the fuck he wanted while someone had to be the responsible one. And then he thinks he can just walk back in like nothing happened and be all, hey bro, care for me to drop by for dinner?”

“Admit it, Samuel, you miss him. And he’ll get to meet the girls.”

“I know. And of course I want him to meet my family. He suggested dinner tomorrow. And he even invited us to see his band play at the old warehouse tonight.”

“Tonight? We should go. I could ask Amelia to look after the girls, make it a date. We haven’t gone out forever.”

“You know we can’t do that, Freya. I have another long shift, I won’t be home until early morning.”

I said nothing. Of course. All he ever had was long shifts, and he didn’t even take the time off he was technically allowed to. I only saw him when he slept, and lately he didn’t even come to bed.

My husband was slowly becoming a stranger in the house, just dropping by for the occasional nap.

“Freya? Are you mad? If you really want me to come home early, just say so.”

He always said that. But it was a risk-free offer. He knew that I’d never demand it. I tried to rearrange my face into something less pouty.

“No. You know I can’t do that, your job is important. I just… I wish you felt that your family was just as important.”

Samuel sighed.

“Ah, yes, because you always seem to think that I’m putting my job over my family. Of course you and the girls are more important to me than my job! But as you very well know, my job is also important, I have a lot of patients depending on me.”

“Whereas we are fine without you, I guess.”

I regretted it immediately. I was stepping onto a well-trodden path and I didn’t have the energy to have this particular argument again.

Neither did Samuel. He just turned away from me as he finished tucking in his shirt.

“You know what, I don’t have time for your shit right now. I need to be at the hospital in half an hour. And if family is really the issue here, why don’t you go see Charlie’s band? You’re his family too. Then you can ask His Highness what he would like for dinner tomorrow.”

He stalked off. Less than a minute later I heard the car start.

The sun was barely up and my husband had already left in a huff. Great.

I wondered if he’d come back.

I wondered if I wanted him to come back.

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen4 #freya duchelli #samuel ward #this is going great #everything is fine

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laurasimonsdaughter · 2 months

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Dear @catwingsathena,

Thank you for sending in an application to be matched with one of our service dragons! Your needs and preferences suggest that a slightly older dragon would probably suit you best. A juvenile is easier to train for specific tasks, but a little less predictable and would also be more work for you. Right now we have two dragons in our training program that might be a good match:

Philly, a very steady, flightless dragon that weighs about 5 kilo's. She ended up in our shelter because her wings are no longer able to support her and we started training her when we noticed how clever and social she is. We are confident that she will be able to give all the assistance you need, including guarding the showers while you are in it. But while she is also very cuddly, she's not really playful. She's rather serious for a dragon and tends to ignore other animals.

Bagel, a rare crossbreed between what we guess must have been a common pocket dragon and a freshwater dragon. She adores water and is very curious and affectionate, also towards other pets. None of your requirements should give her any trouble, but we do think you might need to give her her own bracelet to hoard for herself, or she might try to keep yours.

If either or both of those sound like a good fit to you, we'd love for you to come to the shelter some day soon to meet them. It's a cliché, but the dragon really does pick the owner, and it's hard to tell what personality suits you best until you're face to shout with them!

~ The Domestic Dragon Trust

PS. We have enclosed your application form below.

Service Dragon Application Form

Size: I would prefer a dragon on the larger side of the pocket dragon size range—large enough to cuddle properly and be a pleasant weight on my lap (if I’m sitting up) or chest (if I’m lying down), but not so heavy that walking around with them in a cross-body messenger bag would be cumbersome or hard on my shoulders. Maybe roughly rabbit-sized?

Skills: the primary supports I would need from a service dragon are self-care reminders and light assistance, primarily with meals, meds, and showers. I struggle enough with showers that it might be useful for me to have a dragon who enjoys playing in water enough to want to get in the shower with me, but if that’s not possible, hanging out just outside the curtain and making reassuring sounds would be more than satisfactory. It would also be very helpful if my dragon could bring my migraine rescue meds when needed, encourage me to get up and stretch my legs if I’ve been at the computer too long, and/or pester me into eating and drinking water if I haven’t in a while. I don’t have nightmares terribly often (maybe twice a month on average, these days), but when I do I would greatly appreciate it if my dragon could wake me up. I’d also appreciate if they could grab my medical ID bracelet if I leave it on my bed or try to leave the house without it.

Personality: as I mentioned before, a cuddly dragon is a must. An ability to tolerate or even enjoyment of water would be helpful, for both shower purposes and because I live in an area with a lot of rain and like to go walking in it. Still, while playfulness is nice and an interest in finding things would be very helpful, I think I would do better with a fairly calm, laid-back dragon. My sleep schedule is very erratic (not because of when I go to bed or get up, just insomnia), so I would need a dragon who won’t be bothered by me being awake for hours in the middle of the night and getting up or turning on lights—the ability to nap when an opportunity presents itself might help, and I’d like it if they could sometimes hang out on my bed with me while I’m writing or resting (preferably without interfering with my typing too much).

Living Situation: I go back and forth between two houses approximately every other week. Both houses have at least one cat, and one of the houses also has a small dog (who is never allowed in my room, where I spend most of my indoor time). I spend long stretches of time walking around the block or going on the swingset at the park, and I love being outside in the rain. I also spend a lot of time sitting in my bed—it’s where I do most of my reading and writing, as well as resting. I have a part-time job to which I probably couldn’t bring my dragon for a variety of reasons, but my shifts are 4 hours, so I won’t be away too long.

#the domestic dragon trust #catwingsathena

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 11 months

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Sorry, Wrong Comms! : Hunter x Medic!Reader [Chapter 4]

Gif chosen for the bandages on his left shoulder just like in the fic, but he’d have to lose the top to be more fic-accurate lol

Warnings & Information: Intended audience is 13+ (18 if you squint.) Star Wars and real world swearing. More lighthearted chapter than 3. Tryin' real hard to avoid certain fanon characterizations of the Batchers. This whole series is absolutely RIFE with my personal headcanons. Chapter mentions use of "bastardized-Mando'a" for the purpose of having a secret conversation, but translatable words are used. References to medical paraphernalia: stitches, bacta, etcetera. Hunter is strongly implied to be shirtless for the whole chapter. References to medical and recreational drugs. [It took me an embarrassingly long time to finally understand what "spice" was often slang for. There's so much lore to keep track of lmao.] Medic!Reader is invited to have dinner with the Batchers. Hurt and comfort in various forms take place. Brief implications of Medic!Reader having her own bad memories of war and related injuries but it's kept vague. Brief, strong implications of the brothers' having PTSD tendencies. Chapter ends on a light note, I promise.

Word-count: 6,360

Fwreep! Fwreep! Fwre-

"Hush, you." [____] scolded her equipment, mashing the button to silence the alert. She was tired, the inevitable adrenaline crash had finally taken hold and she wanted to do little else than jump into a short shower cycle and then hit the spare cot for fifteen minutes or so in the cramped back room of her clinic that served as an office, chemical lab (and a panic room in the worst cases back when she dealt with the pirates). Hunter had been saved, scanned, sent home about three and a half hours ago, and put on a strict regimen of rest and a short course of antiemetics, painkillers and sleeping aids once the transfusion was completed and he'd had half a carton of jogan juice for his blood sugar levels.

After they had gone home so Hunter could get some rest (and told he should have some type of lean red meat or eggs if he felt he could eat something), [____] had decided she might as well open the clinic to the public for the rest of the day, even as tired as she now was.

She just had to wait another minute for the analysis to finalize for an elderly Kel Dor client, and then she could have a half-hour on that thin, stiff mattress before she'd have the energy to make it through the last two hours of business and then make her way home. She'd wash up then, she told herself. Better water pressure and the perfect temperature settings waiting for her. Yeah… that sounded nice. Maker, she was so tired, but the energy spent to save Hunter had been well worth it. The analysis looked good enough and passable for the Kel Dor's health to visit their native planet, so she made a note to send a message in the morning, mind otherwise occupied with the events aboard the Marauder; she and the second skin of bacta she slathered on the sergeant had likely found everything. Hunter would be fine. His brothers and sister were going to take good care of him.

She'd done a good job, ignoring the rookie mistakes. He was probably, hopefully resting now. She could probably do the same and allow herself to sleep were it not for a comlink and a single three-syllable chirp shortly after she hit the cot and closed her eyes, tugging a blanket just up to her shoulder.

Oh, stars: that was Omega's calling-quirk.

She sat up slightly, elbow bent at a lazy angle to prop herself up just enough to keep her head off the pillow. Keep herself from falling asleep. "Omega? What's the matter?"

"Hunter recently woke up from his nap and won't take the medicine."

Perhaps selfishly, [____] tried shifting the burden of help to someone else, not quite yet pulling the thin, scratchy blanket from around her body as she sat up a bit more. Maybe Omega was having a little difficulty doing this on her own and just called her on the comlink in a panic. "Can you get Tech to do it, hun?" Tech had it handled, she was sure. Maybe Omega just needed a little advice and then she could have a thirty minute snooze. No such luck.

"Tech already tried…" Omega's voice was in a high whine, unassured. "Hunter wouldn't listen to him."

The blanket was now off and she was fully upright. Would asking Crosshair and all his occasional stubbornness be worth stressing Hunter? No, not a good idea. Could Wrecker be persuaded to make a brief show of strength to encourage Hunter to take the medicine under his own power? Unlikely. Echo… well, she could hear the ARC's voice in a rumble of speech with or to Hunter, but couldn't pick out any words. He was probably trying to bargain with their leader, if [____] had to make a guess. Talk sense into him. Something. She didn't know why Hunter wasn't taking the medicine, she realized. And now it'd just be easier to go and see why for herself; her concern and curiosity and sense of duty to her profession was too high to ignore now. Maybe there was something she missed… something that was hurting Hunter that she hadn't yet treated? Some means of comfort she didn't yet provide?

"I'll be there soon."

Memories of that night a week ago were coming back to her: Cross opened the blastdoor for her when she reached the stoop. She squeezed inside past him. He offered her a blue ration bar and glass of water (citing that Tech had taken notice of (and kindly cleaned up for her) the hastily abandoned stew, meaning she'd never finished lunch). He'd be waiting for her in the common room.

She made her way to the common room, uncertain what she would find.

Hunter was collapsed slightly spread-eagle into the furniture, half dressed, and looking clammy and miserable. The position could have been described as lordly if he didn't look so unwell. There was a faraway look in his eyes under bunched brows and the light rasp of his breath. The medicine she'd given him aboard the Marauder had likely begun to wear off (he likely metabolized it differently due to his genetic profile, something she hadn't gotten around to asking Tech about and merely theorized) and the now-late dosage of the prescribed coursework was set on the low table, waiting. He was probably beginning to feel the pain and didn't seem to realize she was there.

Omega rushed the medic in a flash from some unknown area of their housing, dashing across the room in great relief. "[____]! You're here!"

Wrapping her arms around the youngster, the urgent hug was returned with warmth and comfort. Reassurance. "Hey-hey, easy sweetie. It's okay. I'm here to help as long as Hunter needs me."

"What about your clinic since you decided to open for a part of the day? These are still your standard hours of operation-" Tech checked his statement against information on his datapad, forgoing a greeting and expressing some of his concerns, which didn't bother the shared friend of the Batch, "- so do you have any kind of proper signage that you are not available to potential patients now that you're back on the planet?"

"Heh… yes, Tech, I made sure to turn on my sign that I'm on a house-call. Don't worry. I didn't forget this time, so there won't be any negative reviews to scrub from the Holonet tonight." She let go of Omega, grabbing a little penlight and the medicine canisters from the table, asking for Echo to start dimming half of the overhead lights for her so Hunter would no longer have to squint.

"I-I've done no such thing, [____]," Tech offered unconvincingly, the usual crisp eloquence of his voice faltering. "That would be-"

She hardly ever interrupted Tech, but for once it couldn't be helped; her laugh was light and bubbly, catching him by surprise. "You know that I know, Tech. It's okay. Now… let's see if we can't find a way to get Hunter to take his medicine now that I'm here. Thanks for the water, Cross. Just set the ration bar in my bag for now, please. Since you guys put all his medicine on the table I just need to make sure I've picked up the right two…" she flicked the portable light source over the labels of the medicine, the painkiller and anti-emetic. "yup- perfect. Just what I need."

"Who's tha'? ...a-ad'ika?" Hunter mumbled drowsily, wincing in the soft halo of light from the thin cylindrical device in her hand. Before setting it down, she turned off the light and began pinching open the blister-packaging to the painkiller. "Sorry; hey, it's me, big guy. A little someone tells me we're not taking our medicine. What's going on, Hunter? Pain medication wearing off? Queasy?" He was looking a little disoriented and confused, fresh out of a restless sleep typical of the medicines she'd administered. "No, jus'... not really? Oh, [____]... Wh-when did y'get here?"

Hunter's confused and woozy smile was to be expected, the medicine cocktails tended to alter one's demeanor and awareness, but stars, if it wasn't at least a little cute seeing him perk up like this at the sight of her. He looked so deliriously delighted once he realized who it was. "Not too long ago. Came because Omega made it sound like everyone needed a little help with you and I wanted to see how I could help."

"Oh…" Hunter started, sounding surprised.

"Shh, take it easy-" She pushed back on his chest carefully, avoiding the large patch of gauze and stitching hidden underneath it, and Hunter realized he had been trying to get up; her hand burned with the coldness of her clinic against his warm, bare skin. The chill felt so welcome against the almost uncomfortable warmth he was feeling - it's why he'd peeled himself out of the top half of his blacks no matter how many times Crosshair dressed and redressed him. Was it the start of fever? Or simply just more side effects of the good doctor's medicine? His senses simply just overstimulated? Why did keeping on his top matter so much regarding ifs about popping a stitch with them uncovered or not: [____] was just a comlink away to come and take care of it. She was a good baar'ur… anyone would be lucky to have someone as sweet as her for a medic.

A sweet, lovely woman… Good and kind [____].

"Take it easy, Hunter… let's have one of your brothers help you if you want to sit up before you take your medicine. You're pretty out of it, still, have to be gentle with your movement, okay?"

Hunter obliged obediently, just looking at her and Crosshair as he stepped around one of the other brothers to come closer. Mostly [____]. "Are you saying Hunter's stoned?" Crosshair mused lazily, a smile dragging in those words over the doctor's shoulder before he lifted the upper half of Hunter's body from the backrest of the furniture by his armpits. Cross was kind and said nothing about the bit of sweat that his hands came away with once Hunter was sitting up. (He'd tease his brother for looking so gross when they had company over when he was feeling better another time, perhaps.)

"Sedated would be more accurate, medically speaking… but yeah, I guess it does rather look a lot like being stoned. Doesn't look like we're getting much free entertainment like some Weequay pilots who told me they used a little too much spices in their cooking about fifteen rotations ago, though." There were some stifled chuckles from Tech, Echo and Cross around her, and Wrecker boomed with unabashed laughter, to her great confusion. She didn't think her light teasing of the semi-stoic sergeant was that funny. "W-what's so funny, boys?"

Crosshair burst the bubble for their friend, careful not to roll his eyes in a way that made it appear like annoyance of her naïvety. "Those pilots weren't talking about culinary spices, doll. Spice pirates deal in drugs. They probably pulled one of the oldest tricks in the book: lying to the medic about what kind of spices they put in the spice-cookie. It's slang."

[____] just blinked stupidly up at the stoic marksman. "R-really?" Was he messing with her? He didn't look like he was messing with her. (Was he messing with her and just had the galaxy's best poker face?) "You're… b-being serious with me, right?" Crosshair nodded plainly.

"Did you really not know?" Tech asked incredulously.

"N-no! I thought it was exotic or illegal ingredients this whole kriffing time…" she admitted, feeling so foolish. This whole time she thought spice smugglers dealt in illegal and rare or unusual culinary ingredients. Stars, how embarrassing!

"Well… if it makes you feel any better, maybe there are pirates out there who are carrying food spices across the galaxy. Yuh never know." Wrecker offered, giving Tech a pointed look when he had put up a finger to say something on that in that clipped voice of his. "Maybe, uh… m-maybe they're like supply runners! Getting spices from someone's homeworld tha' they can't find anywhere else when they feel homesick. A taste of home does someone some good." The idea of it sounded kinda sweet when Wrecker put it like that, something he was good at. He was always so good at trying to find ways to cheer up one of his brothers before they took Omega in as one of their own, and since she'd joined their fold, he'd gotten better at it, according to Crosshair's admittance in-confidence some time ago. (But if the medic told anyone he said that, Cross warned her he would likely deny it if only to spur on his bigger brother to try to refine the quality even further.)

Finally turning her attention back to Hunter, who had been sitting up with just a slight wobble in the last few minutes, [____] emptied the packet into the palm of her hand, producing two pearlescent blue pills that would keep the pain's edge dull and nipping at his heels with puppy teeth instead of fangs. "Here, let's start with the painkillers first. Unless you want to take the anti-emetic so you don't risk feeling like you're about to waste the oral painkillers."

Hunter looked mildly panicked about that possibility, the richness of his warm eyes lost in a worry he hadn't considered until now. The guilt, the embarrassment, for throwing up in Cross's arms before they had made it to the clinic flared up yet again. "The e-emetic…"

"Okay, we'll take the anti-emetic instead then. Probably should have started with it first anyways. Here… let's get this one open and ready for ya." Speaking soothingly, [____] tucked the pearlescent medicine back into its torn packaging and picked up the other, keeping her voice within that casual cadence. "Just have to let this one dissolve under your tongue; like the melt-away I gave Omega." Distrustful or disgusted looks regarding the thin off-white tablet fell away quickly, and the leader of Clone Force 99 took the prescription item from the medic and tucked it under the fleshy muscle as demonstrated. "Good, just like that. Shouldn't take long to dissolve under your tongue, then we can try these to keep that pain under control."

"Tas'es funny…" Hunter mumbled carefully, afraid to disturb the dissolving puddle of moistened powder sitting under his tongue. She picked the datapad off her belt clip, glancing over the prescribed coursework for something. "Ah, let's see here… Not a big fan of the candy-like flavoring? I'm afraid it was the only one I had available to prescribe for the time, sorry Hunter. If you don't like it, I'll make a note to avoid it in the future."

Hunter started to shrug, but felt the stitching on his left shoulder begin to tug unpleasantly with the motion and quickly abandoned that. "Mmp… 's fine…" It wasn't that bad, he could tolerate it - he didn't want to trouble her over something trivial after everything else. [____] delicately pecked her fingers along the screen of her datapad for just a moment longer, and then clipped it back to her belt without a word, picking up the painkillers and gingerly planting them into his palm. He was quickly stopped by her clamping her free hand above his when he began to pull it back as she reached behind her and grabbed the glass Crosshair had gotten from the kitchen for her to take a small swig of water. "...whu's wrong?"

"Maybe don't dry-swallow those; they're a rapid dissolve formula. Here… borrow some of my water." [____] held the cup she just drank from out to him, and both carefully ignored Crosshair's teasing quip about indirect kissing when Hunter carefully swallowed down the pair of pills with just enough water. Taking the cup back, she and Cross helped Hunter settle back against the backrest once more and made a note of the time. "Alrighty, good job big guy. I'll keep an eye on you while we wait for that to kick in, you just get comfortable. Let me know if something's still painful in about… ten minutes or so." Hunter nodded lazily, leaning his head back with a weary sigh. His nerves were still so overwhelmed- screaming, frayed and buzzing from the injuries and procedures carried out to treat them. His body ached and he sat there hoping the medicine would give him relief soon.

"It's okay; fall asleep if you want to. If you can." [____] offered the permission softly, sounding strangely far away for being on the two-seater just a few feet away with Omega while hearing some of his brothers leave the common room. With careful effort Hunter lifted his head from the backrest and glanced over at sister and friend, seeing the former curled into the latter's side with Lula under one arm, studying the datapad with the medic.

"What's this mean?" Omega inquired, brows pinching together in a scrutinizing expression that looked a lot like one of Echo's scowls for an amusing moment.

[____] laughed softly, a short oh! falling from her lips when she saw what his sister was pointing out. "That's just an unholy mix of a bunch of my personal jargon with the official medical jargon for the kinds of sutures I gave your brother. They're absorbable, meaning he won't have to come back to my clinic to have them removed. Now think back: do you remember what monofilament means?"

While Omega was puzzling over the datapad for just a moment, the silence allowed the medic to tear open the wrapping to the food she'd been offered and eat it before it became forgotten and smushed among the items of her medbag. "Single strand structure. Like Tech's when you removed the shrapnel." Omega stated matter-of-factly, trying to emulate Tech's speech pattern. It made the medic chuckle before threading her fingers through the blond crop of hair under her chin with her free hand, setting down the half eaten blue travel-ration to do so. Omega adored having her hair played with by those she trusted. The intimacy and care behind such a gesture was proof to the brothers, drugged and undrugged alike in the room, that [____] was truly perfect for her profession.

Care for one of their own, and you had the rest wrapped around your finger.

"Hey, [____]!" Wrecker called from the kitchen. "Stay for dinner with us! How do you like your meat?"

The medic balked for a moment, looking surprised by the sudden invitation. "St-stay for dinner? Are you sure? I'd-"

"Awh, 'course! Got enough Kommerken steaks for everyone! Been dying to have these for a while now." Wrecker promised, flashing a jovial smile in the doorway. "You're probably gonna have to stay here to watch Hunter for a while after those ten minutes, right?" If he pointed this out, she'd surely agree to stay for dinner, and then some. Perhaps a game of Dejarik or a round of Sabacc if they could convince her.

"Well, not necessarily in the way you're probably thinking…? I don't have to engage in any additional medical observation at this point. He'd be plenty fine in your capable hands between the five of you once I've headed home- and sure, I'll stay for dinner - I have faith in you guys." Sniper and ARC trooper shared a glance at Hunter, and then each other as she followed Wrecker into their kitchen. They knew they were thinking the same thing as Wrecker explained and showed the difference in the done-ness of the Kommerken steaks he could prepare for [____] with unfettered glee. They were probably going to have to tell her.

Wrecker had told him that he let the Loth-cat out of the bag, but Echo knew that she didn't have the full picture.

Hunter's often borderline-paranoid avoidant nature when it came to discomfort and conflict.

The way he would run from as many problems as he faced. How he gave the clinic a wide berth unless absolutely unavoidable sometimes. How Hunter hesitated getting involved in directly confronting the Empire like Captain Rex every time it came up in conversation with Echo, and how Hunter dug in his heels on keeping the squad together when he expressed to Hunter wanting to do something to help their deserting brothers. The excessive caution that became stifling if he or Crosshair did not provide a little pushback when the time called for it. While he was often an excellent leader, he was terrible about dealing with emotional and mental discomfort since the safety net of the GAR was cut from under his feet on Kaller.

And it was holding him back from telling [____] himself about how he really felt.

There'd be little chance she'd understand something outside of common phrases, so Echo figured perhaps some use of bastardized-Mando'a would be safe to use with the medic within earshot. "Gar ganar at rejorhaa'ir kaysh, vod." You have to tell her, brother.

A befuddled "Huh?" was all Hunter could think to say in response to the rough and mispronounced Mando'a. Tell her what? What was Echo getting at?

"Wrecker told her, aboard the Marauder," Echo whispered, squatting slightly to bring himself to Hunter's current eye level. "How you feel. A cuun burc'ya ru'kir susulur bic teh gar." But their friend should hear it from Hunter. The confession from his own lips and heart where he could finish pining over her in unspoken feelings and finally, finally, finally tell her. "Tell her, or I will. Or, I'll let Cross do it." Echo threatened in half seriousness, watching Hunter pale with realization.

"Oh goody, that would be fun, wouldn't it, Hunter?" Crosshair sneered, voice like poisoned honey in mischievous glee. For just a moment, Echo couldn't be sure if Cross was being threatening, or simply being a sibling.

"N-no, please…" Hunter moaned, weakly pleading with his brothers with a wave of panic rising in his chest, "Don't! I just n-need a little time t-to… f-finish suhm'thin…" A letter. He had a letter he was trying to write… Crosshair would be stomping all over these carefully chosen words and thank yous and apologies to tell her how he felt if Echo was serious… "Gedet'ye, vod… Gedet'ye." Please don't do anything to blow this for him. He needed more time.

Echo put his hand on Hunter's uninjured shoulder, leveling the end of his scomp with his brother with a pointed expression. "By the end of the week."

"Hey Hunter! How do you want your Kommerken?!"

Hunter blanched at the thought of food right now. While the anti-emetic was proving helpful for a turbulent stomach, he didn't think he'd take a chance on anything substantial like a slab of meat and the seasoned, fire-roasted root vegetables he could smell Tech preparing. "Tell him m'not hungry… Cross would you… grab my datapad from my beside?" Hunter should start proofreading that letter if he has two days, glancing at the wall with the calendar. Crosshair was down the hallway before he could change his mind. "Sure. I'll be right back so you can take a page out of Tech's book and study up. Tell Wreck I want mine bloody, Echo."

"I'm not a waiter droid!" Echo called after him. Sighing, he straightened up and entered the kitchen to join Wrecker and relay the information. "Hunter's not in a state for food just yet. Crosshair wants his steak bloody. I'll take mine well-done, please."

"Ha-hah! You got it! You want some, Omega?"

"Ew…" Hunter heard her complain softly. The brothers were working on introducing her to more galactic cuisine they'd come across in their travels well before they met her, with mixed success. She didn't have the same adventurous stomach like Wrecker, but she would humor most of the more unusual offerings at least once when they could afford to be picky with a meal. "I don't know… I'll… try a little, I guess."

"Atta girl. Don't worry, I'll grill up some nuna drumsticks for ya, too." Wrecker promised her before Omega said she was going to go to her room and work on something she started drawing the other night. Nuna legs were always a safe meal choice no matter where they traveled; the base flavor was almost always the same, perhaps slightly gamey depending on the planet, but otherwise it was prepared and served in a pretty universally uniform fashion. "You're not much of a fan of the Kommerken either, Tech, you want to go with some nuna tonight instead?"

"If you don't mind." Tech murmured distractedly, turning the chunks of root vegetable individually on the other hotplate to ensure an even crisping.

"Not at all!" Wrecker rolls his right shoulder once before he turns his attention back to the larger hotplate he's set up to make dinner for everyone. A twinge of pain in his face is not unnoticed by the woman wearing the insignia of galactic healthcare on her shoulder still. "Something happen to your shoulder, Wreck?"

"Oh, I'm fine kid," he couldn't think up anything in particular from their mission with Captain Rex aboard the prisoner transport ship that caused the pain at the moment, so he couldn't be entirely certain it was anything from their earlier escapade, "don't worry about me… Please. We're more concerned about Hunter being taken care of right now." Wrecker's last words dropped into a low, careful rumble, so as not to be overheard by those outside of the kitchen. Tech nodded in agreement with the sentiment expressed. Ordinarily he would have scolded one of his brothers for neglecting injury or illness (not quite to the same, stern extent that Echo would), but today had nearly gone so south and sideways were it not for the woman currently shoulder-to-shoulder with Wrecker.

If she hadn't been out there, drifting in space, aboard her medical craft and by some mercy of all holy deities in this galaxy near enough to the Havoc Marauder that they could take Hunter to her, Hunter may no longer be here. The bitter thought of one less brother almost coming to pass choked his throat unpleasantly. Their grievances could wait. Hunter would come first until everyone was satisfied he was recovered and it would be business as usual.

[____] made a little rolling motion of her jaw in thought, and swallowed down the concerns clambering in her throat she wished to voice. "Okay," she said instead, voice almost regretful. "But I feel I should at least give you something for the pain so it's not bothering you while you're making dinner for everyone, at least."

Before the sweet giant of a man could wave off the proposed offer, Tech waved to the thick, red-stitched patch affixed to the sleeve of the rumpled, hastily thrown-on (but importantly clean of any blood) uniform coat with a flutter that directed Wrecker's attention to the insignia to remind him she's still wearing the shattered cross so she's still on the job. "I think that would be a sufficient compromise, Wrecker."

Wrecker just shrugs noncommittally, but nods all the same not long after with some thought. He trusts Tech's judgment of course; he trusts all of his brothers. Every. Damn. One of them. "Righ'. Compromise works… I'll take something for the pain, sure. Thanks, kid."

"I'll be right back then. I have some single doses in my bag."

"Single doses?" The ARC trooper repeated from out in the common area. "What of? What for?"

"Probably the big guy's shoulder." Crosshair said in a way that didn't sound like a guess, more of a statement. "Tweaked his shoulder aboard that karking transport." He didn't so much as react to the flinch and stern look from Hunter at his word choice.

"How'd you know?"

"Marksmen see everything…" [____] offered with a cryptic thought, rooting through the hard-frame medbag. She didn't elaborate on the less than blithe remark, just chewed on a difficult look in her eyes and the tight grind of her jaw. She'd seen her own horrors from the Clone Wars. The relentless and indiscriminate wrathful arm of brutality and violence that left so many permanently altered even if they survived those three years. Just three kriffing years that felt so much longer. "Found it. Here, got something to help with that pain, big guy."

She broke the thin barrier of foil in the single-dosage blister and took it back with her to the cramped kitchen, giving it to Wrecker who thanked her brightly, using one of her nicknames. "Awh, thanks. Appreciate it!"

There was a shrill beep, the end of a timer from the opposite end of the kitchen that made Hunter visibly twitch out in the common room, the sound an icepick in his ear canal.

"That was set for ten minutes," Tech answered the unasked question, calling out above the clattering of ceramic dishware as Wrecker plated the steaks that were done, "you should see if the dosage has helped Hunter. Will the dosage you gave Wrecker need more or less time?"

The medic made a sound of deep thought at first. "Er, slightly more. Let's say fifteen. Thanks for keeping track, Tech," her thanks was met with insistence that it was nothing, he was happy to assist before she stepped back out into the common area, eyes squeezed in a look of worry when she saw Hunter. "Hunter, how you doin', hun? You okay? Think that painkiller kicked in yet?"

Hunter rolled his good shoulder, hoping he didn't look too panicked on the outside the way he felt it internally. Great trees of Kashyyyk, that had set off his fight-flight instinct. "Uh, yeah, think it did… Timer just scared the kriff out of me. Could someone ask Tech to use a different timer tone?" It was a default sound, one a touch too close to the primed and ready chime of a detonator. Were it an octave higher, it would have been exact.

"You hear that, nerd?" Crosshair growled darkly, voice just loud enough to be picked up by those in the kitchen. He'd noticed what Hunter had, felt that same edge in his teeth at the unpleasant alert. "Erase that karking option from the timer settings cause that's sure as banthashit not going to work out for ex-soldiers."

"Yes, I agree; apologies, everyone..."

A door slammed sharply down in the hall. Seemed like Omega had been ready to join the group for dinner once she could hear the gritty shuffle of plates, but suddenly changed her mind. It didn't seem like she'd meant to slam the door, either, that was very unlike her to engage in this age-appropriate behavior. "Oh dear..." [____] crooned softly, her face matching the worried expression of the brothers. She skirted around the sofa to stop Crosshair, and both she and Echo prevented Hunter from getting up by pressing down on his unhurt shoulder as he tried to find his feet under him. "No, stay there, Hunter; you're going to be too woozy to walk. Let me handle it, Crosshair,"

The sniper just regarded the thought of checking on his sister with one last look towards Omega's bedroom door, then back at the grown woman again before he relented, his jaw clenching and releasing repeatedly. "If you need help."

"I'll let you know. I understand it's very unlike her; I'll see what's going on." [____] assured her friends, promising she'd ask one of them to come assist if she felt it was necessary. Silently approaching the barrier of privacy, the woman rapped a knuckle twice on the upper panel.

A sniffled apology to what was likely believed to be needed for one of her brothers at the door greeted the medic's ears. "I-I'm sorry I didn't me-mean to slam the door…!"

Oh the poor, sweet girl. Was she scared she'd gotten herself in trouble, or had the sound of the timer scared her, too? Though, perhaps it was a third, previously unconsidered option: Omega couldn't find the energy to be brave any longer. She wasn't as practiced as her war veteran brothers in masking their fear, or waiting until it was a more "appropriate" time to have those feelings. "It's me, Omega. May I come in?" There was no answer. Just a stifled sniffle before the audible swell of a new wave of tears started. "It's just me." [____] promised again.

The mechanism klic!'d as Omega hiccuped that she could come in. The desk light was the only source of illumination for the whole of the room presently turned on, so the medic left it that way. Curled in the deepest corner of her bed furthest from the door, Omega sat with her legs hiked up under her chin, the fabric of her pants tearstained at the knees. What was the best question to ask her first? Did she think she was in trouble for the door? Scared by the timer? Or scared she nearly lost her brother today?

"Can I give you a hug, sweetheart?" was asked instead, the medic lowering herself slowly to the slightly springy mattress she remembered helping the brothers find when they furnished the house.

Look, doc, we've… never had comfortable beds our whole lives being soldiers. Just those damn sleeping pods as cadets and then a private room with piss poor excuses for a mattress for those few nights we'd be back on Kamino. So that means we've never had to take care of a kid before either… What kind of mattress is Omega going to need? Help us… help me… figure out how to take care of that kid. Please… please!

Omega nodded with an emotional whimper, weakly climbing into the lap of the grown woman and planted her forehead between the medic's collarbones, crown of her head tucked away and under [____]'s chin. Strong arms that have cradled and carried the wounded, the dying, and the sick thread themselves around the shoulders and little waist of the sole sister to these brothers.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I was scared too."

It's all it takes to give Omega permission to cry again. To speak; the scared, child-like mewl of Omega's emotional voice punctuated by hiccups. "I-I thought I was going to l-lose my little brother!" She couldn't pretend anymore. She wasn't the “little sister” of the Bad Batch right now. She was the frightened, older - if not eldest - sibling of those vode out in the common room and in the kitchen who had been raised in secret labs and corners of Kamino and knew little of the galaxy compared to them. So she was being raised by men technically younger, but, by necessity, more mentally mature and experienced men.

Fingers clawed into the doctor's coat like clingmoss, knuckles going pale with the force of the grip. The strength was mirrored with a deeper pull of her arms, and [____] brought Omega closer to her chest, combing her fingers through the girl's hair. "I-! I thought he'd-!"

"I know, baby girl. I know. You don't have to say it and upset yourself. C'mere…" She scooped an arm under Omega's knees and repositioned her easily, cradling the child with an ease from years of practice. "... take a deep breath for me, little one. It's okay." If she could get Omega mostly settled, perhaps she could do something about the worried whispers just barely outside the mouth of the hall too. She had an idea. "Breathe in, hold, and then breathe out." She uncurled the arm under Omega's knees and dug around in an inner coat pocket, hoping the itty cylindrical object she felt in there was what she hoped it was. "Take a deep breath in," [____]'s fingers wrapped around the little item and pulled it free, a fabric marker she used to doodle on bandages and casts for pediatric patients. "and breathe out nice and slow… There you go. Just like that."

"What's t-that?" Omega sniffled, eyes catching on the strange art supply. "I've never se-seen a marker like that before..."

"It's a fabric marker," [____] explained, taking the edge of her sleeve to dry Omega's face, using the distraction to soothe and settle, "I mostly use this to add little drawings on big casts and bandages for my pediatric patients so it makes them feel better. Maybe before I go home tonight you and I could add little doodles to Hunter's gauze; make it all pretty for him. Whaddya think?" The teasing offer and wink worked, the light in Omega's eyes sparking. The idea was silly, and there was a chance that trying to add a cute little doodle or two might be slightly more trouble than would be worth the temporary pain or Hunter would protest to the idea of being doodled on, but it was enough to cheer her spirits for the time being. "You can think about it. Hold onto it for now,"

Who knows; maybe Hunter would allow his sister to add some minuscule artworks if only to get her to smile and worry about him less, "Because I think that's the smell of your dinner ready. Hungry?"

Omega dried her eyes one last time and grinned brightly up at her friend. Her brother's savior. She still had her brother thanks to the woman who had come in and comforted her. "Yeah!"

[____] smiled and winked at the little youngster still snuggled in her lap, the fabric marker held tight in her hands like a sword's hilt. "Good. Me too; ration bars are only so filling, aren't they?" Her heart sang with the bubbling giggle and one last embrace before both scooched off the bed, Omega calling out to any listening brother in the rest of the house that the two of them were ready to and that she called dibs! to sit between [____] and Hunter at the table this time when everyone sat down to dinner.

There was a sharp pause before a great shuffle at the dining room table to make that arrangement possible.

Taglist: @dragonrider9905

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meowzfordayz · 2 years

Text

picnic

Author’s Note: planned to write an emergency request tn, but this suggestion begged to be written instead. 🙋🏻‍♀️

picnic

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

Word Count: ~1,000

CW: none

Suggestion Fulfilled: Imagine having a picnic with Rengoku and it’s fluffy and a perfect date :3

~faqs~

Picnic!Kyojuro who brings up the idea of a picnic date early on in your relationship, but doesn’t actually get around to planning one for ~months

He’s busy, yanno ?? Planning all your other dates 😌

Not that you don’t plan dates as well !! But like- He wants to do everything w/ you

If you give him your weekend, then you’re up at 7am, and in bed by 11pm — not a minute wasted, and still a full 8 hrs of rest 🤓

Picnic!Kyojuro who spends weeks scouting for the ~best spot

Picnic!Kyojuro who knows you like the idea of grass more than the actual experience of it (don’t mind my self insert lmao… grass is itchy), so he’s sure to bring a waterproof tarp (he doesn’t want you to stress about ruining any blankets) + plenty of blankets + cushions

Picnic!Kyojuro who finally decides on a sunlit patch underneath an old willow tree situated in a local nature reservation

Picnic!Kyojuro who almost settled on the field at the local library, but worried that public = less PDA, and why would he consciously deprive himself of PDA ??

Picnic!Kyojuro who loooves PDA 🥰

Subtle and not so subtle — depending on your comfort

Picnic!Kyojuro who rouses your suspicion when he allows you to sleep in on a Saturday: “What time should I set my alarm for?” Alarm? Sunflower, there’s no need for an alarm. 😃 “Excuse me?” 🧐 No alarm! Just rest. 🤗 “Are you feeling okay?” 😶 Of course! 😇 “Okay…”

Suspicious or not, you’re absolutely cashing in on this rare opportunity to NOT watch the sun rise 🙃

Sunrises are glorious, buuut so is SLEEP

Picnic!Kyojuro who silently slips out of bed no later than 7:01am, even tucking your favorite stuffed animal of his under your arm lest you desire cuddles amidst your slumber

Picnic!Kyojuro who texts you

7:04AM Kyojuro: Good morning darling! I am fine! Go back to sleep!

Juuust in case

Picnic!Kyojuro who puts together a hefty basket of everything you often want to buy/eat, but can’t normally justify spending $ on it

For me this means: crisp baguette, fancy cheeses, fresh fruits, avocado, and smoked salmon

(I was going to specify what was in the basket, but food is such a vast, unique, sometimes painful topic, so to each their own imagination 💓)

Picnic!Kyojuro who’s grateful you rarely check the second fridge (c’mon, this man eats — he 100% owns a second fridge), bc that’s where he hid all the goods

~flashback to last night~ I am home❣️ “Do you want help bringing stuff in?” 💪 NO! 😳 “... okay ??” 😆

Picnic!Kyojuro who packs another basket w/ aforementioned tarp, blankets, and cushions; and plates, utensils, and napkins

If you think he’ll let you carry one, then think again 🤠 He knows you’re strong — he just lowkey wants to flex 😎

Carrying ~stuff ≠ Showing off 😤

Picnic!Kyojuro who loads everything into the car’s trunk before returning to wake you

Picnic!Kyojuro who feels somewhat guilty as he presses himself into your back, his heat seeping through your body, slowly nudging you to consciousness

“You said I could sleep in,” you mumble drowsily, grumpiness softened by the touch of his thumb across your cheek

“You did! It is 8am! Time for today’s activity!”

Picnic!Kyojuro who usually has a plethora of activities on the agenda, so you’re borderline hopeful at the lack of plurality in his statement

Maybe you’ll get to nap afterwards ??

I don’t mean to make you seem ungrateful btw 😅 I just hc Kyo to be an enthusiastic go-go-go-! partner… frequently to an endearing fault 🥴

You can always say no! But like… it’s Kyo !! so it’s also just… hard to say no 🥺😂

Picnic!Kyojuro who hands you cozy sweatpants (autumn breeze + autumn sunshine = perfect weather), a cotton shirt, and one of his sweatshirts

Picnic!Kyojuro who—once you’re dressed—happily interlaces his fingers w/ yours, squeezes gently, and leads you to the passenger seat

Picnic!Kyojuro who opens the door for you

Duh

Picnic!Kyojuro who doesn’t tell you where you’re going, drives patient and steady, and chuckles when you inevitably nod off

Picnic!Kyojuro who manages to set everything up while you’re snoozing in the parking lot (for the sake of fanfiction: nobody’s around yet — you’re safe and sound)

Tarp, then blankets, then cushions; colorful tupperware organized neatly by genre (of snackage); forks, knives, and spoons arranged on napkins; speaker placed nearby, his cheesiest playlist queued

“Sweetheart?” he hums quietly, poking at your shoulder; you grunt; “Everything is prepared!”; you huff; “Rise and shine!”; you swat at him, blinking groggily, “I’m hungry.”

Picnic!Kyojuro who grins triumphantly, “Breakfast is mere minutes away!”

Picnic!Kyojuro who pouts when you mutter, “We better not be foraging for it.”

Picnic!Kyojuro who guides you toward the It is a surprise! — sweaty, pulse quickening, gaze darting

Picnic!Kyojuro who nearly panics when you stop abruptly

I should have let them sleep in another hour…

Picnic!Kyojuro who promptly melts with satisfaction when you audibly gasp, Oof as you immediately hug yourself to him, your nose digging into his chest

“When? How?! Why?! KYO!!”

Picnic!Kyojuro whose laughter caresses you warmer than the sun, arms toned as they embrace you, lips promising as they nuzzle against your forehead: “Because I love you.”

Picnic!Kyojuro who sits beside you, introducing the variety of pickings to you, heart bursting at its seams as the contented gleam in your smile only brightens

Picnic!Kyojuro who ~eventually remembers to turn on the speaker

Picnic!Kyojuro who doesn’t bother pretending to be bothered when you grab his bicep This song, Kyo! This song !!!!! and tug him up to dance

Picnic!Kyojuro who dips you so low you feel like he might drop you, but he never does

Picnic!Kyojuro who knows you’re more beautiful than the ombre of foliage blurred in the background of his vision

Picnic!Kyojuro who swears he sees the outline of your soul as he holds you

Picnic!Kyojuro who kisses your earlobe, voice a shy murmur

“Thank you for letting me love you.”

Picnic!Kyojuro who starts planning his proposal (or some grand gesture if you’re not one for marriage) as you whisper

“Thank you for loving me.”

#kyojuro rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #rengoku x reader #flame hashira #headcanons #modern au #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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eliquepalace · 1 year

Text

mental health tips!

(from a LOA perspective.)

it is important to take care of your mental health through your (manifesting/spiritual) journey. even while being divine, you are in a human body and are bound to have human experiences. and TRUST, i understand how overwhelming it can be to navigate the world when you are spiraling or going through a lot mentally. so these are few tips that i use that have seemed to work for me and i hope work for you too!

when dealing with intrusive thoughts:

→ when those thoughts come, let it flow. as scary as it may seem, don’t engage with it. do some deep breathing exercises and focus on that instead.

→ you are not those thoughts and you never will be. remind yourself that.

→ ‘postpone’ the thoughts. if you usually end up finding it hard to let go of spiraling thoughts. tell yourself “i will come back to it. when i am calmer and feel better, i can look at those thoughts through a neutral perspective.” and often times, those thoughts disappear and you would have forgotten you plan to ruminate over them in the first place.

when dealing with negative emotions:

→ acknowledge your emotions. if you need to cry, talk it out or scream, do whatever, just let it out. don’t harbor pain or hurt. let yourself FEEL.

→ if you constantly deal with negative emotions, i urge you to seek out resources for therapy, if you can afford it, as it can be a great help! (no, you won’t be encouraging the ‘old story’ by talking about your life/emotions with someone who listens). don’t deny yourself assistance out of fear.

→ do something fun or calming:

if you like something fun: get creative, hang out with friends, record video journals or dance.

if you prefer something calming: write, meditate, pray (doesn’t have to be to anyone in particular, it could just be you talking to you/your subconscious), take a quick nap or take a walk in nature.

→ this is one of those many times, you show yourself a LOT more love. treat yourself with kindness and patience. when working through your emotions, don’t criticize yourself for doing too much or not doing enough.

affirmations:

i am a master manifester and i live life calmly knowing life works only in my favor.

i identify only with the greatest good.

i fully trust myself to do what’s right for me.

i am always deserving of what i want.

i let go of anything i do not align with.

i deserve to live a life i love.

this shall pass and it always does.

i kept all my thoughts in check today. i didn’t waver once. my mind is completely saturated with the new story. — courtesy of @blushydior.

general tips:

→ whatever you desire is yours and always will be. letting your emotions flow through won't affect your desires.

→ if you deal with a lot of anxiety around manifesting, go back to the basics!! the over-complication of manifesting does more harm than good. i promise you that reminding yourself of the very bottom line of the law does wonders.

→ manifesting has allowed me to trust myself a lot more than i ever could and that is how it should be. trust yourself and your subconscious. they know what you want, and they won't ever let you down.

→ if you find yourself going through a series of so many questions and fears, that is okay. step away from any form of overconsumption. address those fears and find the root cause of why you feel that way. pay attention to yourself and emotions, break down those fears until you feel safe again.

→ everyone's journey is different. you will get where you want to be, that is guaranteed. take what works and leave the rest. remember, manifesting is meant to be fun!!!

just because you exist, that makes you worthy of your desires and overall happiness. you deserve it!!

#law of assumption #manifestation #spirituality #mental health #anxiety #self concept #neville goddard #mental health tips #loa affirmations #loassumption #elique’s archive

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whatsnewalycat · 9 months

Note

Hi and congratulations!! I don't think we've ever crossed paths, but your campfire milestone celebration is a delightful idea I couldn't resist!!

(I took a peek at your masterlist, and it looks like I've got some Frankie and Dieter goodies to read!!)

Okay, I grew up in a haunted house, and so was the first house I bought with my honey, and I was thinking I would tell you a story about one of those houses... but I've decided to tell you about the time my great gra-méré saved me from drowning (on my mother's side), even though she was long dead at the time.

I was no more than 4 at the time, so this is a family story and not remembered by me. I should also let y'all know, it was the 1970s, so when you are like why wasn't someone right on top of a 4 year old near a body of water, or in a personal floation device, or allowed to talk to strangers... That's why. The 1970s , practically the Wild West...

Anyway, my family used to go swimming at Lerner's Pond, it's a sandy pond with pines all around, and the pond had a large dock shaped like an H.

I was in the shallows as a pre swimmer, and my dad was playing with my older siblings, and my mom was on the blanket talking with my grandmother (on my father's side), but she was counting her babies as she chatted, she saw Dad with my brother and two sisters swimming and playing and I was not far from my dad playing in the sand and chatting with a couple of grown ups who were sitting by the waters edge.

She looked away, chatted a bit. Then, as my mother describes it, something like an arm came between my mother and grandmother, pointing, and her grandmother's voice said urgently, 'Hazel is over there!'

The force was so strong that my mother's head snapped way from my grandmother's to look where "the arm" was directing, and all she saw was two little arms waving languidly in the water. She got up like a shot, jumped over a blanket with a couple adults sitting on it and ran into the water grasped the two little arms and pulled me straight up. She said I was looking up at her from under the water completely calm.

And when I came out I was calm, because the world was a smaller place back then, and weird as hell my pediatrician was at the pond that day, and checked me over. He confirmed that there was no water in my lungs and seemed fine. The couple I had been talking to were mortified, as I had been just talking to them and I was only a few feet from them. Apparently, because I wasn't thrashing and splashing in a panic no one was the wiser thinking the languid waving was playing or otherwise went unnoticed. (It is since then that people have put out many a PSA of the ways drowning can look-and its not all panicked spashing, and more often not).

Well, when my mom told me the story, I asked her what I said about what happened and she said I was quiet the whole day, but she picked me up from a nap and I told her, 'she said to keep waving and you would come.'

My gra-méré lost one of her sons, Albert, to drowning.

💚

STOOOOOOP I’m crying and I have goosebumps 😭❤️❤️ I love that so fucking much. Gra-méré looking out for you from beyond the grave. That’s so sweet. Thank you so much for sharing ❤️

#whatsnewalycat campfire

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yearningandpatheticaboutit · 2 years

Text

SPEAK FOR YOURSELF

CHAPTER 10: YOU SHOULD BE SCARED OF ME

warnings: suicide mention, drugs mention, sa menton

word count: 7111

previous chapter

***

San

when i wake up from my suffocating nap, yaera is tugging on my arm for us to get off the bus. i jump in my skin, looking out into the kind of neighbourhood i only pictured in movies.

my family was never really wealthy, but i know we always tried to do nice things. the houses and the clean streets and palm trees, everything around me just reeks of tax evasion.

"its not a long walk from here," yaera says, her voice sounding muffled. did she sleep in the bus too?

i cant hide my staring as we walk, feeling completely out of place. yaera's been hanging around my shitty apartment so often i forgot where she actually comes from.

it bothers me. i dont know why. sometimes i cant believe this partnership is real. there'd just be so much i'd overlook if all my needs were taken care of like hers are.

if its one thing im tired of, its surviving. just that. i dont remember the last time i had a good day that wasnt ruined by the impact of my fathers decisions.

we reach a white house that looks like something out of old hollywood. yaera stuns me by walking through the gate like nothing. i look around like a kid at a carnival, lost in the fantasy of how nice it must be to grow up around a functioning neighborhood.

yaera takes her shoes off in the front of her door, giving me some home nostalgia. i didnt realize a lot of people did that. i do the same thing, gazing around her sunlit foyer.

"no ones really home besides the maids so we can go straight to my room," she says, then turns around to look at me. "can i get you some juice? water?"

"do you have coke?" i ask.

"im not allowed to drink gas in this house. dont ask."

"juice is fine then."

she leads me to her room. her house has a lot of clocks. everything so simple and white. i pass by a wall on the way to her room, spotting a few baby pictures.

her room is even more bare than the rest of her house. everything i see...i never expected. nothing about yaera ever told me she has such a simple room.

it looks like something out of one of those modern home magazines. no posters on the walls, no pictures, no stuffed animals, nothing at all that showed her personality. not that i was an expert on that. but still.

"go ahead and make yourself comfy, ill be right back," she says and tosses her bag onto the bed. the weird sound it makes reminds me of the things she stole. she wants to sell them yet shes so careless.

i get up and walk around slowly. her room carpet is soft on my feet, better than the rough wooden floor at my apartment. because nothing in her room tells me anything, i go back to that wall.

im nervous because i dont like walking through the homes of others, but something intangible tells me to do it. theres a bunch of pictures of yaera as a preteen and a kid. she looks like a mess in all of them. her curly hair wild and her clothes hanging off her body like she played a rough game. and next to her is the girl identical to her, wearing the biggest smile.

it feels eerie to look at almost. knowing what happened to her.

the two of them are so tight knit, theyre inseparable in every photo. even though yaera is almost never smiling, she always has a hold on her sisters clothes or arm, while the girl looks so out of place next to her brooding twin.

i feel bad looking at it, feeling like im intruding. i hear footsteps coming up the stairs so i quickly run back and pretend to take my books out. yaera comes in a few seconds after, holding a tray of juice and a bowl of chips.

i shift awkwardly as she sets it down on the bed and sits down, roughly pulling at her school tie. her shirt pops open at the top, and i immediately divert my gaze when i catch a glimpse of her black bra.

dont. dont do this to me today. im begging my body to stay in check so she doesnt realize how starved of human interaction ive been before i met her.

"lets leave the studying for later," she boredly says and starts opening her bag. i frown at her, remembering what mrs evans told me.

in one of earlier periods, she basically begged me to tutor yaera, saying she was on the verge of failing and doing pretty much horribly in all her other subjects because she didnt try. if she didnt do well for the next few months, she wouldnt be able to go to any college.

"i dont think thats a good idea," i say, finally looking her in the eyes. her tie is around her head for some reason. "i was serious about tutoring you. it sounds like you really need help. we should get it done."

yaera rolls her eyes. "so im guessing evans spoke to you?"

"i think most people know you arent doing well in school."

"fuck you, san."

i almost smile because of the bland look she gives me.

"im just telling you the facts. what exactly are you going to do in italy?" i ask her. with the lengths shes going to, i know she has to have a plan.

"my grandmother from my mother's side, shes still alive. im going to stay with her. she owns a bakery and will take me in without saying anything."

"didnt you say you wanted to fall off the grid? away from your parents?"

yaera takes a handful of chips and throws it back into her mouth, exposing her chest yet again. i wince internally. i dont know where to look at this point.

"my mother got disowned by her mom a long time ago, when she left the country with my sister and i," she mutters, her tone quieting at the mention of her sister. "my nonna's family immigrated to italy from south africa years ago, so my mom was born in italy. my sister and i were born there too, so my grandmother was really upset when she left with us. they never talk, so i know im safe with her."

"how old were you when you left italy?"

"eleven," she answers, smiling fondly to herself. shes pretty when shes not plotting or wearing her insufferably sly smirk.

"we still go back and forth a lot. because of my parents business. i stay here for school and go back for vacations and holidays."

it must be nice, i think. im surprised shes handing out information so freely. i guess she does really trust me.

"maybe we can visit each other," she suddenly says, the smirk ive seen too many times hanging on her lips again. "when we're both wild and free in europe."

"you know england and italy arent down the street from each other, right?" i laugh slightly, wondering to myself why she would say that.

"so? you know what they say, in europe everything is walking distance."

i chuckle, i dont know why. shes not funny. its embarrassing how a week ago she was blackmailing me and now im eating chips in her room, listening to her life story.

wooyoung would be fuming if he could see me now.

he'd ask me why i was letting in a girl so notorious, so much of a fiend. someone so shady, who isnt at all afraid of danger. and even if she is, thats not gonna stop her at all.

i wont have an answer for him when he does question me. because i dont know why either. maybe im just letting myself have something for once. even if its not the smartest or sanest thing in the world.

yaera takes out the stuff she stole from her bag, snapping pictures of a shiney watch. "people will buy anything online, its crazy," she tells me slyly. "all i have to do is say free delivery and they come crawling like rats to a pizza slice."

so this is what shes been doing for money. "how much does it make you?" i question.

"a lot. i recommend it. even if there isnt a fixed amount, theres no way youre going home with coins."

she leans in to me suddenly, her bra poking open as a gold cross necklace hangs from her neck. i gulp hard. what is she doing?

"and i was thinking...if you cant get rid of all the rosies on time...maybe you can just give Miss A the money?" she continues on as if she doesnt realize how hot she is. or maybe she does, maybe shes doing it on purpose.

it takes me a few seconds to digest what she says.

"what?"

"we can dump it, or sell it ourselves for an even higher price," she says excitedly. "we pay off your amount and then just make double it. you know?"

i dont like the sound of it. im not good with finances, which is exactly why i do the rough stuff. its why im known for being the muscle. i still dont know why miss A gave me this shitty job, knowing i had no expertise. maybe she wants to get rid of me.

"lets play it safe for now," i say, stuttering slightly. im taking a lot of risks so this is going to have to wait. especially because i have enough to hide from miss A.

yaeras proximity is so close to me i cant ignore it anymore. her skirt is hiking up as she sits, her long knee highs distracting as fuck. im biting hard on my lip, the strain tugging in unmentionable places. i cant do this anymore.

"your top is a little...wide," i say suddenly.

"huh?" she looks down and realizes. i expect her to go as red as i feel, but all she does is grip her shirt closed and smile crookedly.

"my bad. i didnt mean to give you a show," she jokes. "wanna stand in the hall for a second? i'll put on something else."

i can never tell if shes being serious when she flirts with me. it feels like everything is a joke or a lie. no ones ever acted the way she does towards me before. i dont know how to deal with it.

i get up and leave, hardly making eye contact. my skin is prickly and hot. i cant be getting affected like this. im such a loser.

my imagination tries causing my downfall while her door is closed. the clocks in her house are ticking and im trying to focus on them instead of picturing her getting undressed. fuck, what is wrong with me.

i reach for my phone, hoping to get distracted. but when i reach for my pockets it isnt on me. i go back into yaera's room, without thinking at all and her back is faced toward me.

luckily it isnt her bare back. she has a pink tank top on. i lose my sense for a few seconds when she turns around, her top still dangerously low, and my phone right in her hand.

its open.

i fight my glare, i probably just left it open by mistake; but shes looking at me like she wants to kill me. her jaw is clenched, her dark eyes narrowed at me like i kicked a puppy.

"why do you have my phone?" i ask her cautiously.

"why do you have this picture on your phone?" she says back, cold as ice.

my mind goes blank. "what?"

she smiles but its nothing sweet. "yeosang emailed you. he wants to meet you for drugs. now tell me why he sent you this picture?"

oh. the picture of her with that older guy. the colour feels like its leaving my body. oh fuck.

"i-i can explain–"

"i noticed you got it a day after we met. were you trying to get leverage on me?"

im embarrassed. i dont know what to say. but my brain tells me to just be honest. theres no way they can look any worse.

"yeah, i was," i admit. she scoffs and rolls her eyes. "i wanted something on you the way you had something on me. but i dont plan on using that. ever."

"thats supposed to make me feel better?" she questions angrily.

"well, you still have that video of me dealing drugs. do you think that makes me feel better?"

she clamps her mouth shut and bites her lip in frustration, tossing my phone to the bed. i want to approach her but i feel like shes about to kick me out of her house.

she cant be mad. i know its fucked up but i was just getting even. i hope this doesnt ruin everything we tried establishing a day ago. that would be so exhausting.

she drops onto her bed, pushing her hair back as she glares onto the ground. "fuck that asshole, yeosang. that picture is useless anyway."

i frown and finally get the courage to move to sit next to her. "what do you mean?" i ask.

she scoffs again, a forced smile on her face. "because that isnt me. its my sister."

my blood pauses in my veins as i look at her. yaera sighs, the look on her face distant and pained. what?

"but yeosang–"

"is a fucking idiot," she finishes off coldly. "he leaked that picture of her days after she went missing. everyone thought she ran away and was rebelling so brands started dropping her. my parents threatened to sue and he swore to delete it. my parents made me step up and announce that i was the one in the picture so that yasmines name would stop getting slandered. so they called me a whore instead."

she chuckles darkly. "i guess it was easier to believe i was the whore and not her. they werent expecting her to be a bag of bones at the bottom of a canyon."

what the fuck. i bend my elbows on my knees and rub my face because i dont know what to say. yeosang is such a fucking asshole.

"i'll delete the pic," i say heavily. "i didnt know. yeosang said it was you."

"most people believe it is. to this day. but nah, thats my innocent sister in the arms of some guy."

"what the fuck is that angle?" i ask her in disbelief. "it doesnt look like she knows she was being watched."

"i dont think she did," yaera admits frighteningly calm. she reaches for something in her bag, and pulls out the camera she stole.

"i think my sister was being stalked. and i think that person is stalking me too."

"what?" i raise my voice. shes dead serious.

yaera holds the camera towards me, showing me a folder. when i look at the pictures inside, my face goes icy. hundreds of pictures of her at school, smoking, sitting around, completely unaware that a camera is on her. then as i scroll further down, i see the exact same picture yeosang sent me.

the original.

"what the fuck?" i whisper and shake my head. "we have to take this to your parents. or the police. what if this is the same person who killed your sister?"

yaera nearly drops the camera and i swear she looks like all the colour has drained from her face. she feels her head and shivers. "i-i think im going to be sick."

"i'll go get a cold rag. hold on."

i get up but she pulls me back by my shirt, shaking her head. "no please. just stay here," she almost begs.

we have to do something about this. this means the stalker is a student, or even worse, a teacher.

it cant be the guy in the picture, hes older and hes being watched too. it has to be a student, and it has to be someone part of the soccer team.

"did yeosang ever say where he got this picture?" i ask her.

she gulps and shakes her head. "no he said it was sent to him. and because he knows everyone, he was told to leak it. so he did. he thought it was from her or someone else saying that shes safe and alive. but...then..."

she takes a deep breath, and it sounds like theyre getting smaller. her chest is rising and falling harder than usual, a slight whistle in her breathing. i reach for her bag and rummage through it, finding her asthma pump.

"take this," i tell her and hand it to her. she takes two puffs, her breathing harsher than before. shes almost shaking.

"ill go with you," i tell her firmly. "to the police, or to your parents. we can show them this. you might be in danger."

"they wont do anything," she says defeatedly. "the police buried the case and i would just be bringing up old wounds to my parents. so much has happened...they wouldnt believe me."

"but we have evidence right here!" i groan, unable to believe what im hearing. "youre just going to accept this?"

"what do you want me to do?" she snaps her head at me. "do you want us to find this guy? then what?"

i clench my jaw thinking of it. hes probably some sick fuck getting off to pictures of yaera and a dead girl. how fucked up do you have to be to still hold onto this?

"we kill him."

"what?" she looks at me horrified. "what the fuck are you talking about?"

"okay fine, we dont kill him. but lets fuck him up, or get him in trouble. because this is messed up. i can find out who this belongs to. just give me your word and i will."

yaera nods with difficulty, looking like shes choking down sobs. this day has taken a completely different turn, we havent even gotten to studying yet.

my phone rings and buzzes again. i look at it. its the thirtieth call yeosang has given me. i pick up in annoyance and nearly growl into the phone. "what the fuck do you want?"

"fucking finally!" he screams, making me pull the phone away from my ear. "you asshole! ive been tryna reach you all day? you finally out of marino's ass? can i fucking talk to you?"

"what do you need?" i grit out because unfortunately i need this fucker and his money.

"i need you to give me like four bags before saturday. ill pay you today, okay? this shit is addictive im literally shaking and if you dont deliver im gonna fucking beat your ass, okay? im thirsty!" yeosang demands, his voice unhinged and feral.

"when do you need it?"

"did you not hear me? today asshole! drop it at the rockstar cafe near school. one of my girlfriends work there. give it to her."

"fine. ill send wooyoung to drop it."

"fucking thank you. god, was that so hard?–"

i hang up on him and turn my attention back on yaera. shes looking at me with a closed off glint in her soft brown eyes, her lips slightly pouted. i stare at them a little too long, against my will.

"how do you know yeosang?" she asks me suddenly. "or more, how did you start selling drugs to him?"

i cant for the life of me find out why she wants to know that. i did tell her i would let her know anything she wants, so i guess i should be fair.

"he knew one of yunho's guys," i say. "he used to sell him drugs when he went clubbing. long story short, the guy died and yunho asked me to start supplying yeosang instead. he was surprised when he found out we were at the same school."

"and he kept quiet?" she asks in genuine disbelief. "yeosang? the guy who tells everyone with whom and where he has sex? the guy who cant keep a secret for shit? that guy?"

"yunho warned me about him. i have a little leverage on him to make sure he doesnt squeal."

her eyes suddenly light up with that dark, mischevious flare she uses when she wants something. "what kind of leverage?"

"before i tell you, whats your relationship with yeosang?"

"he tried to fuck me," she says crudely, making my mouth nearly drop open. "and he knew my sister. he tried to fuck us both actually. and when i didnt let him he went around spreading rumors about me. he still does it to this day."

okay so she has it out for him. and rightfully so. everytime i hear about yeosang hes out disappointing his parents.

"his scandal is kinda fitting then," i chuckle humorlessly. "he had sex with this girl at one of yunhos clubs. he drugged her drink. yunho has it all on camera."

yaeras face morphs into disgust. "thats not fucking sex thats...he literally...oh my god."

"i know," i sigh. "hes a real piece of shit. yunho had his hands on that. and now it belongs to the gang. he knows if he speaks, his life is over."

"how the fuck did yunho record it?"

"he used to record everything in his club. hes was one sick fuck. there were cameras in every corner of that club. every single one. its how the police busted him. luckily for yeosang, his video already made it out of there beforehand."

yaera shakes her head and grips her hair. "this shit is fucking crazy."

thats my life. shes horrifed. i can feel it. but she wanted this. she wanted to be a part of it. luckily it wont be her forever. i dont know when it will end for me.

***

i tried my best to tutor yaera after the revelation of all the upsetting news. she struggled to pay attention, i could tell. her answers were all delayed and she kept zoning out on the diagrams.

at some point i accept we wont get any work done today. i look outside and see its getting late. yeosang is ringing my phone again, as well as wooyoung. i realize i have stops to make.

i close my textbook which happens to be open on the diagram of the heart. yaera blinks slowly, then sits up when she realizes we're done.

"oh. sorry," she mutters. "i wasnt really a good student today, huh?"

i shrug, its not a big deal right now. "we can try again tomorrow. you have a lot on your plate."

"thank you." she says in the smallest voice. its humble coming from her.

i open my bag and shove my books in and she helps me pack. eventually she hands me the camera.

"you take it," her voice is tired and flat. "do whatever you need to with it. i dont want in the house, im going to stare at the pictures all night and its gonna make me sick."

"ill take it away tonight," i tell her. "you remember the mongols? those guys you met when you followed me the first time?"

"yeah?"

"theyre my dads old gang. they do favours for me sometimes because they feel bad for ruining my life. i can get in touch with mao's niece. shes a hacker. i'll take the camera to her and see what she can do."

"thanks. i'd go with you but my parents are gonna be home anytime soon," she sighs. "be careful."

i swing my bag onto my shoulder and we walk out of her house. we schedule to study sometime on the weekend again, right before yeosang's party.

when we get outside the sky is almost pitch black, except for a faint line of blue over the roofs of the mansions. its going to be a nightmare to get transport this time around. i decide to call an uber.

"i wanted to ask you," yaera says as we wait in silence on the pavement. "theres this thing coming up with my family. like...an event for that photoshoot i did. and i need a date."

i raise an eyebrow. is she seriously asking me to go to a fancy event with her family? me? the poster boy for poverty?

"dont look at me like that," she punches my arm lightly, scowling. "im not into you or anything. i want you to meet the models im dealing to. theyre going to be there."

i narrow my eyes at her. "you want to deal at your parents party?"

"no, san. i wanna see you in a suit and drool over how hot you look."

my mouth hangs open at how completely serious she sounds while saying it. i nervously look away and wipe my face with a sigh, irritated by how easily she affects me. she bursts out laughing and my embarrassment worsens.

"you keep asking me dumb questions. obviously! and dont worry about the suit, ill get you one myself."

i dont meet her gaze even though i can feel her staring at me. "so you didnt mean what you said before that?"

she comes to stand right infront of me, that devious smirk on her lips once again. goddamn it. i fail to look away, not wanting to be intimdated except i am.

"about wanting to drool over you?" she asks lowly, her smirk dripping with smugness. "you want me to mean that, choi san?"

my body is abnormally fucking hot. i hear a horn beep a few feet away and see a black toyota waiting. thank god. i clear my throat awkwardly and tighten my hand on the strap of my backpack.

"i gotta go. i'll text you." i say and scurry away as fast as i can.

yaera waves slowly to me when i get into the car and look at her through the window. i need to keep myself in check, no matter how difficult she makes it.

on the way home i get texts from wooyoung complaining about yeosang and about me taking my sweet time at yaera's house. hes convinced we're having unprotected sex everytime hes not in the room.

my face warms again as an image appears and quickly vanishes from my mind. that wouldnt be the worst thing in the world, right?

no. what the fuck san. get it together. what the hell did you just think.

it was the grief and trauma from seeing yunho get sliced up. im convinced. no way would i be having these disorderly thoughts unprovoked.

the uber drops me off infront of a tattoo parlour, aespa. mao's niece is a tattoo artist here. ive only visited a few times, mostly doing errands.

its evening so the place is shut down, but i know shes here. i slam my hand onto the door and peer through the glass waiting for her to show up. it takes me a few aggressive policeman knocks before she eventually comes strutting out through the dark shop, scowling at me.

she unlocks the door and glares at me. "what the hell? do you pay to knock down my door like this?" she snaps.

"hey, ningning, right?" i say. "im san. you know me right?"

she squints her eyes at me and then clicks her fingers. "ah...that guys kid. i dunno his name. tekken?"

"yeah. can i come in?" i sigh.

she opens the door and flicks the lights on, allowing me to pass through. her hair is bright red and she has two full sleeves on both her arms. last time i visited she only had a few tattoos.

"im guessing youre not here for a tattoo appointment?" she says and goes to sit on a spinning chair. it accidently slides across the floor and she tumbles out of it. she gets up and smiles awkwardly.

i take off my bag and pull out the camera. "i need a favour. can you help me find out who this belongs to? its urgent."

"mmmmm did you steal it?"

"not important. i just need a name or an address."

she crosses her arms and nods. "that'll be easy. depending on how long this takes me, ill give you a price after."

i scowl. "please dont be unreasonable."

ningning gives me a nasty look. "hey, my uncle owes you favours, kid. not me, i didnt ruin your life. this is not a charity."

i sigh and nod, giving her the camera. i follow her to a backroom that ends up leading to a basement under her shop. she unlocks nearly four doors to get to her station, and i see massive monitors and a sick computer set up that i know costs more than my apartment.

she lets out a sigh and jumps into her chair, taking out the camera. im curious because i didnt even know cameras could be traced back. the police do it, right?

"so how do you do this?" i ask when she starts typing abnormally fast.

she chuckles, and my eyes widen when a bunch of alien code appears on the screens. "come on, even if i explained to you, do you really think your dumbass would get it?"

i scowl. damn it shes right.

"you couldve just said no," i mutter pathetically under my breath.

"serial numbers kid. serial numbers. theyre a godsent gift. also photos. does this camera have any photos?"

"yeah, a ton." my anger returns just thinking about the creep and his 'hobby'.

ningning pulls up the pictures from the camera and puts them onto the monitors. i bite my lip awkwardly when she turns and side eyes me.

"are you stalking someone?" she asks me dead seriously.

"no," i scoff. "im trying to find the stalker. and even if i was, you'd have no grounds to judge me with what you do."

"i may steal and sell peoples information but at least im not a weirdo," she rebuts and sticks out her tongue. seconds later she pulls out a piece of paper and starts writing shit down.

"theres an account attached to the camera. heres a name and address." she hands the paper to me. i frown looking at the name.

"Apple?" i scowl. this feels like a prank. and severely underwhelming. but at least ive got an address. im going to break this fuckers legs.

ningning smiles, sighing as if bored. "too easy. i was actually hoping this would be a challenge. that'll be 50."

i groan in the back of my throat, feeling like im giving out more money than im bringing in. yaera better pay me back for this. i dig into my wallet and give her my paper and it turns out its my last. broke.

ningning sends me a wink as i make my way out. "good luck, Lucky. or whatever they call you nowadays."

wooyoung picks me up a few minutes after, a new license plate on his van. hes honks obnoxiously for me to get in, nearly waking up the entire neighbourhood.

"never send me to plug that yeosang fucker ever again!" he immediately whines when i slide in passenger. "i cant stand that guy. how does he have that many girlfriends and i dont?"

"youre not a rich sexy creep i guess," i tell him and then sigh. "woo, we need to kill someone."

"what?!" wooyoung screams like the human loadspeaker he is. "who? the blackmailer?"

"no!" i snap and glare at him. i pull out the address and show him. "this is the address of the fucker thats been stalking her. including her dead twin sister."

wooyoungs jaw nearly drops. "woah. yeah thats fucked. when and where?"

i look out the window, thinking back to how she said she didnt want me to hurt anyone. i would probably piss her off and scare her. who knows what would happen. she doesnt want me to do things behind her back.

"let me tell her first. but tomorrow after school, we're paying this person a visit."

***

Yaera

it feels like everyday i wake up i feel more and more like trash. the nights feel long. the day feels too early. i know whats coming. its getting bad again.

ive been called depressed by my therapists and teachers. then it quickly became an excuse. an excuse to them i constantly use to be bad at school and everything else. all i know is everytime i think my happiness will last it doesnt.

when i dont feel my emotions, i dont remember them. they become foreign to me, like nothing. but recently ive been feeling a lot. san has made me feel a range of emotions.

sadness, fear, anger. excitement. fucking arousal. he makes me feel the way a cigarette does. which is crazy. i never thought i'd feel anything for anyone like that ever again. not since jongho.

i sit with silent admiration as he approaches me in the parking lot the next day. of course he has his resting bitch face on, but its one of the things i look forward to these days.

my hands are shaking inside my blazer pockets as i lean against the wall, my nicotine addiction not fulfilled for the day because i spent money on hairdye and forgot.

sans eyes shift to my now black hair and an awkward smile (i think its a smile?) sits on his face. "hey. did you get my texts?"

"my phone died," i say. i actually passed out after doing my hair last night, completely exhausted and terrified by the information that hit me. all that and i forgot to charge and bring my phone the next day.

"oh. i guess i have to say this in person then," san frowns. "i got an address and name for you. of the stalker."

my blood feels like cold sludge in my veins and i immediately feel more lightheaded. my stomach churns. "oh," i try to keep a straight face. "thank you."

he sighs and takes out a piece of paper. "before i show this to you. i want you to know wooyoung and i are planning to go to this address after school. you can come with us to confront the bastard. are you okay with that?"

my mouth is dry and i dont even know what to say. i didnt think he would actually find the creep. i dont even know if i can face him.

i nod with difficulty and san gives me the paper. my stomach immediately plunges like a fucking roller coaster.

no fucking way.

"i couldnt get his actual name. this is all thats available on his account." san sounds disappointed. his face drops further when i meet his eyes.

"are you okay? do you know this person?" he asks, hands hesitantly reaching out as if hes afraid im going to fall over.

i just cant believe it. after years and years i didnt ever think this could happen. but it makes sense, doesnt it? everythings starting to make sense.

"this is jongho's nickname," i utter lifelessly. "and this is his address."

"what?" san raises his voice. his eyes turn into planets. "the annoying prefect?? the one that hates you??"

i nod and almost start laughing. i almost start crying too. jongho is my stalker. he was my sisters stalker. i guess i shouldnt be surprised, he was literally in love with her. but me?

why me?

i cant fucking breathe.

it all gets worse. i reach for my asthma pump and it falls out of my blazer and plonks onto the cement. san picks it up and wipes it off, placing it in between my lips.

he pumps it for me, and i would almost consider this romantic if not for the fucked up circumstances we're always in.

"do you want me to hurt him?" san asks me seriously. "because i will."

i shake my head and scoff. "and face a lawsuit? you have nothing and jongho has everything."

san has a terrifying look on his face. "it doesnt have to be me. you know i know people that would make him pay for this."

i dont want him to pay. not yet. i just want him to be honest. i want this to fucking make sense.

"i knew he was fucked up but wow," i laugh to myself, making san more concerned. "imagine he did actually love me all this time? imagine he loved us both?"

"yaera." san sternly says. "process this and lets talk later. we have class. dont say anything to him or breathe near him. he could be dangerous. he couldve harmed..."

the sick feeling sweeps through me and i find it hard to digest. i gag and nearly throw up, but luckily nothing comes up. thinking of jongho, the asshole i cant stand but also one of my first loves throwing my sister off a canyon after strangling her is making me want to off myself harder than i thought.

and the image never leaves me.

even when we get to class, i find myself

lost in my own head thinking about it. i cant enjoy history for the life of me because im thinking of the past. im thinking of my parents that trusted him. yasmine trusted him too. so much. she thought he was fine with just being her friend.

no, im lying. she knew choi jongho wasnt fine with being just friends. i know she teased him with a relationship that would never happen. i know she kissed him a few times, maybe did something more. i know she led him on for years and he never really gave up because he thought they were perfect together. she could be cruel about it, the way she kept him on a leash.

now shes fucking dead.

"choi san!" someone screams, tearing me out of my thoughts as the classroom door roughly swings open. everyone stands up as our headmaster appears in the doorway, with...jongho behind him.

my breath hits a wall when i look at him, and hes glaring straight at san. the soccer coach is standing in the doorway as well.

san stands up awkwardly, confusion lined in his features. "yes sir?"

"it has come to our attention that items have gone missing from the boys lockerroom yesterday afternoon. choi jongho stated that you were the only one he saw hanging around that area at the time. can you confirm?" our headmaster asks, making the entire class fall into hushed whispers.

no fucking way. san is going red out of panic.

"i-i mean i was there. but i didnt steal anything. h-how or why would i?" san asks.

"you're a scholarship student," jongho spits at him like hes filth. "its not farfetched for you people to get carried away at a school like this. youre already here for free."

"excuss me?" mr grüne, my history teacher interrupts with a glare. "choi san is a good student he would never do such a thing. you can ask anyone of his teachers."

jongho lets out a spiteful laugh. "an expensive camera and watch have gone missing, i dont care about his reputation i care about my team. and choi san is the only person i saw at the lockerrooms yesterday!"

"i didnt steal anything," san defends, clenching his jaw as he grips his desk.

"then surely you will not mind us searching your locker?" the soccer coach says. san's face drops.

i hold my breath. i hold it because i know san has the camera hidden in his locker. we were supposed to confront jongho after school.

"i-"

"you cant search his locker," i say, scoffing and bringing the attention on me. "thats an invasion of privacy."

"its school property," headmaster corrects me. san is looking at me like hes internally begging me to stop. but i wont because i need to save him from himself.

"if you think he stole your shit, call the police," i say. jongho clenches his jaw at me.

thats right. you wont call the police because once they find your camera youre fucked.

"this doesnt concern you, ms marino," headmaster tells me sternly. "choi san im going to need you to come with us to give your locker combination please."

oh fuck. oh no oh fuck.

san slowly leaves the classroom and i can see jongho smirking evilly to himself. no way i cant let san go down like this. they'll destroy him. he doesnt know how to verbally defend himself.

"sir i need to be excused," i say and immediately bolt after them. i pull jongho to the side, making him glare and rip his arm from me. i grab him again, digging my nails into his skin.

"what the fuck are you doing? let go." he hisses at me.

"call the search off," i grit through my teeth. "call the fucking search off right now."

jongho chuckles. "and why would i do that?"

"because if you dont i'll take your camera to the police and let them know youve been stalking me and my dead sister," i say. his face crumbles.

in seconds jongho's smug grin shatters into utter disbelief. hes taking too long. san is going to get caught.

"go fucking call it off!" i snap. "tell headmaster your parents found it, say something or else im letting everyone know what a fucked up creep you really are."

jongho runs and nearly trips over his feet as he chases after our headmaster. my skin is pricky because im scared he wont get there in time. im scared san will go down for this. for MY doings.

i let out a sigh of relief when all four of them come walking back and san isnt in handcuffs. but jongho is giving me a terrified look. good, he should be fucking scared.

"i want to apologize to everyone here for interrupting your lesson and also choi san for the inconvenience," our headmaster says. "it was simply a misunderstanding."

mr grüne looks like he already knew san was innocent and san shrugs it off like nothing. he looks at me wondering how i did it. i mouth to him that we'll talk later. jongho drops something on my desk before he leaves, a note.

meet me on the soccerfield after break. i'll explain everything.

A/N: AYEEE NINGNING CAMEO ANYONE? AESPA X ATEEZ CRUMBS?

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#ateez angst #ateez imagines #choi san angst #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez scenarios #choi san #choi san fluff #san angst #gang au #ateez mystery #ateez thriller #ateez ot8 #ateez au

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