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tathrin · 11 months

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5. …where it doesn’t hurt.

Oh what a tender choice, thank you for asking! Prompt taken from this; anyone can feel free to send other numbers in at any time.

Legolas was pacing. That was the first thing Gimli became aware of when he woke for the third time, his head finally clearing of the fuzziness of healing potions and injuries enough for him to focus properly on the world once more.

Legolas was pacing, which meant that he was worried.

The elf was almost never still, Wood-elves being apparently as prone to rustling as the leaves of their beloved trees, but it was a gentle, casual sort of motion, instinctive and subconscious. If called out on it, Legolas often evinced confusion, as if he had not even noticed the slight but unceasing motion of his lissome body.

Pacing, on the other hand...

Gimli tried to speak, and a groan emerged instead. Instantly, the elf was at his side.

"Gimli?"

The sound of that bright, cheerful voice drawn in to such a tight, tremulous trill of a word made Gimli's heart ache almost as much as his bones did right now. The sight of the elf poised on his heels beside Gimli's bed, his long fingers frozen halfway across the distance between them as though he was afraid of reaching closer; afraid of actually touching the dwarf, was even worse and the shadow of terror that flickered across his pale eyes was utterly unbearable.

Gimli forced himself up from the dregs of his drugged sleep and into enough consciousness to rasp, "I am well, Legolas."

It came out rougher than he intended, more of a hoarse croak than as actual words. He opened his mouth to try again and found the rim of a cool metal cup pressed to his lips instead.

"Drink," Legolas commanded.

It hurt, lifting his head enough to do so, even with strong elvish fingers supporting him from below, but Gimli forced himself to swallow the cold, mint-laced water. He flopped back to his pillows after a few gulps and cleared his throat. The results were pleasantly akin to a rumble of stone rather than a creak of brittle wooden timbers, so Gimli decided to brave the effort of speech again.

"I am all right, Legolas," he said.

"You are not," the elf retorted. "You are banged all to bits, and the fact that none of your bones are broken is nothing short of a miracle."

"Dwarven bones are strong," said Gimli.

Legolas snorted. "Yes, and their heads are hard—a fact with which I am both beyond irritated, and exceedingly grateful. Gimli, what were you thinking?"

"I did not expect the stone to break," Gimli murmured. Dwarven stone would not have broken beneath his feet; or if it had had no choice but to do so, then it would at least have warned him first. But the shoddy white stone with which the masons of Minas Tirith had built some of their more recent, less elegant and less impressive structures, apparently had no such concern for the beings what walked upon its pale surfaces, even when said beings walked with dwarven feet.

"No!" Legolas exclaimed. "No, I am sure you did not! Nonetheless, it did, and you took quite a tumble as a result!"

Gimli grumbled, and made to swing himself out of the bed. The world reeled around him and a hand like a splay of twigs against his chest stopped him as firmly as a block of granite.

"You are not getting out of that bed until Aragorn himself says you are well," Legolas declared, his lilting voice gone suddenly fierce. Then it cracked open like a wound as he added plaintively, "Gimli, you nearly died!"

"Poppycock," Gimli retorted, trying to hide the fact that he was panting from even that slight abortive effort. He sank back into the pillow and forced himself to breathe slowly.

"You fell almost twenty feet and landed on solid stone."

Gimli grunted. "Well, then of course I am not dead," he said. "Good stone would never break a dwarf that landed on it."

Legolas made a noise of exasperation that sounded comically similar to an angry bird scolding an interloper away from its nest.

"Hush," Gimli said. "Your point is made; I will stay in the bed and await the word of the healers." He was not sure that his body would allow him to do anything else anyway, but there was no reason to admit to that. It would only worry Legolas more if he did, and he would be surely be more mollified by Gimli's apparent surrender if he did not know that he was only acquiescing because he had no choice.

"Good," Legolas snapped, and dropped onto the floor beside the bed.

They sat there in silence for a few seconds as the aches in Gimli's bones throbbed and pounded, as though he were an anvil in Erebor's busiest forges. Either the draughts he could dimly remember being coaxed to drink by Gondor's kind were wearing off, or the pain was simply becoming more noticeable as his thoughts cleared.

He could not stop himself from groaning, although he clamped his lips tight over the sound as soon as it escaped—but too late.

"Does it hurt terribly?" Legolas asked. His voice had gone gentle again, small.

Gimli nodded, and regretted the motion with a wince. He screwed his eyes shut. "Yes," he admitted.

"Where?"

Light elvish fingers ghosted over Gimli's arm and up across his shoulder, their touch no more than the slightest breath of wind amidst slim treetops. The pain still seemed to dull a little at the touch, as though Aragorn's hands were not the only ones that held healing in their palms.

"Everywhere," Gimli moaned.

Legolas's fingers retreated at once, and Gimli could not help but sigh in regret.

"Well," he said, after a moment, "perhaps not quite everywhere."

"No?"

There was a faint rustle of movement, barely audible. Gimli could not bear to open his eyes and let the light in again, but he pictured the elf leaning closer and smiled at the imagined sight.

"My nose," Gimli said at last. "I think my nose is all right."

Legolas let out a surprised laugh, a burst of silvery mirth like the sudden ringing of clear bells.

Gimli's smile settled more firmly behind his beard. "Yes," he said. "My nose is definitely unharmed."

"And well that it is," Legolas agreed, gliding the faintest touch of his fingers across Gimli's cheeks and forehead before finally coming to rest against the side of his nose. "I would be grieved to see such handsome features mashed by such a fall."

"That's why I made sure to land on my back," Gimli teased. "To save my pretty face for you."

Legolas laughed again. The sound was watery, but stronger; the tremble was gone. "You are very kind," he said.

There was another, longer rustle of movement, and Legolas's hand fell away to be replaced by the light touch of warm lips upon the very tip of Gimli's unbroken nose.

In the darkness of his pain, Gimli smiled.

#hurt/comfort #not really a genre i write a lot of tbf but it suits them (and this prompt) so well i couldn't resist leaning in on the trope #also i have more responses to do but i think i might be feeling up for writing Actual Stuff again (thanks for the help folks!)#so i'll come back to these later #thank you to everyone who sent (and anyone who may in future send) prompts; it was extremely helpful #gimleaf #gigolas #ask meme #send a kiss meme #lotr fanfiction #my writing #my stuff #legolas #gimli #lotr

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jtl-fics · 1 year

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Fluent Freshman - Part 15

The thing is… FF is aware that he should probably be medicated. You might be saying well isn’t he taking his ulcer medication? The answer is yes he is and when he is getting close to missing a dose Nicky’s usually the one that texts him with six frowny face emojis asking if he took his meds (they have a system, he takes his meds and then he texts Nicky)

No, he knows that he should probably get on something for his anxiety. Betsy has offered to get started on getting him on the right cocktail, his grandma thinks it’s a good idea, and Nicky has offered to get him as much weed as he needs to chill out, he knows a guy. Andrew is probably only going to stab him and threaten him not actually hunt him for sport, in his moments of clarity he can accept and understand that.

But there is nothing in this world that he wants less than to get back on anxiety medication. The world had been grey, it muted everything in the world for him, he faded completely into the background of his own life, and he couldn’t even grieve-

He was almost thankful for his step-dad’s sudden arrival in his life and how quickly his mom forgot about him to spend every waking moment she could on him and his children and then their children. It was two years of nothing and then his mom stopped picking up and refilling his prescription because it was too much of a hassle to keep picking up every month.

“He’s not anxious, see he’s fine. He doesn’t need it anymore.”

The withdrawal and the emotions that came afterwards had been hellish. He’d collapsed into his Grandma’s arms and begged her not to call his mom. He spent an entire month of summer vacation feeling like he was going to die and when he got back he found that no one had even missed him.

He swallowed the hurt, all of his emotions felt so much stronger now that he’d lost them for two years. If he has reactions like he’d had before he knows his mom will put him back on the medication.

The town is small and everyone talks. He knows about the dog walker’s poop flinging scandal, he knows about how the butcher’s left pinky got put back on wrong when he’d cut it off, he knows that the kid down the street paid $40 for a bag of oregano that he thought was weed, he knows that lil susie is in counseling because a girl should probably not be establishing cult rituals around her barbies.

He can’t react, can’t let people know he’s dying from anxiety because his math teacher sighs when he hands over his test. Can’t let anyone know that he has to put his head between his legs and take deep breaths before he can go into the cafeteria. His only solace is that all of the foreign language teachers love him, it’s easier to accept a compliment or comment in a language his family doesn’t use.

His step family treat him like the guards outside of Buckingham. Anything for a reaction y’know? He tells himself he does not care and for the most part he doesn’t.

He signs up for Exy in middle school because he just wanted something to do and it was the sport that had the same meeting days as his grandma’s bowling league. She picks him up from practice and they get ice cream together afterwards, she’s the only thing he has since Great Gran passed not too long after he got free of the medication.

He still feels her fingers checking behind his ears on occasion, a joke now that he’s off his meds referencing when he was too zoned out to care about hygiene. He still remembers her looking at him and feeling like she was seeing more than just him, “You’re a Smith. The last one when me and my daughter go. We’ll all be with you whenever you need us.” She promises.

He thinks it’s just respectful to get her favorite scent when he needs her help. He was raised to be respectful. Lavender still makes him think of her and he hopes his grandma left some on her grave recently.

He knew he’d have to wait to go to college. His mom is putting on the pressure now that he’s 18 saying he will have to pay rent even though Greg is older and definitely isn’t. He plays Exy and thinks about how he’ll handle his life between 18 and 25, he puts all his anxiety into the game and maybe the coach notices something.

He must have noticed something.

The Foxes don’t offer positions to kids who don’t have something going wrong for them.

Coach Wymack and Dan Wilds wouldn’t be there in his little bum fuck nowhere town in Washington if his coach hadn’t sent a tape and an explanation.

He could admit that he knew about the Foxes. He looked up to the vice captain a fair bit not just for his game but also…well the Butcher was national news. Vice Captain Neil’s story was all over the news and maybe he was just a little bit in awe of someone who could stand his ground after all of that. Watching Vice Captain Neil Josten give shit to every last reporter who gave him any shit? Inspiring.

He just didn’t think it’d be a good fit for him.

He’s not like the rest of the Foxes. Dan talks about them all in broad terms, how they’re all fighting to become something and grow beyond the unfairness that was out of their control. FF is tough to convince but he’s a pretty good defensive dealer, Dan and Coach Wymack both want him.

Dan eventually has to go because she has an interview for a coaching position out this way but Coach Wymack just hands over the rental car keys and Coach Wymack stays.

Coach Wymack stays and they keep talking. FF talks about everything and Wymack eventually just says “Well, you’re still here despite all of that aren’t you? Sounds like a fighter to me. I think you’ve got what it takes to carry that weight with some help and I can promise that you won’t have to deal with those jerks past your high school graduation. You’re not going to be the first Fox who I help out from under some asshole parents and you won’t be the last.”

So he signs a contract, he’s 18 he can do that AND buy cigarettes now (he won’t. That’s how Gran lost gramps when dad was still young but he COULD. Much like he COULD go into the town’s only sex toy shop but that would be back to his grandma faster than the cigarette purchase to be honest and he isn’t THAT interested in what’s in there.)

He finishes up school but the assistant coach is a friend of his step dad and mentions that he’s signed to the Foxes. It’s just one week between his graduation and when Coach Wymack is coming to grab him

Suddenly he exists in his house for the first time since they all moved into it after the wedding and it’s the WORST. The want things, they want promises, they want assurances, they want to pretend and act like he’s always been there.

He flees to his Grandma’s house and texts Coach Wymack asking if there’s ANY chance he can get picked up early because he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to talk if he calls the man.

Coach Wymack comes for him and shoulders him past his ‘family’ to the rental car but the panic attack he sees in the car ride to the airport when his family’s car follows them all the way to the rental drop off means that he HAS to see Betsy.

Betsy is nice. Betsy teaches him how to breathe through stuff. Betsy teaches him how to ground himself in reality. Betsy tells him that the Starbucks girl probably doesn’t hate him. Betsy suggests he get on some medication.

He said No.

He’s scared out of his MIND in Palmetto but it’s better than-

He prefers to feel things.

Betsy tells him that it shouldn’t have been like that. His mother should have taken him back and gotten his prescription adjusted until it wasn’t like that.

He still declines.

Andrew gets suspicious about him knowing Russian after that game of Never Have I Ever and Nicky keeps almost letting it spill right by him. His stomach hurts the CVS girl keeps pepto for him behind the counter.

He still declines.

He prefers to feel things.

You can’t enjoy the thrill of a 100% on a Kanji Basics midterms without the anxiety of the Oral presentation. You can’t feel the true satisfaction of getting a blender for 25% off + 50 dollars of in-store credit without the flop-sweat of the searching eyes of a woman wearing PINK branded lounge wear. You can’t keep friends if you have no ability to empathize with them even if you’re worried you’re annoying them or ‘humble bragging’.

Fear is better.

Betsy tells him if he’s ever ready then she will help him. His Gran tells him she loves him. Nicky says “Look there’s a strain called White Russian. That’d be funny right?!”and FF agrees but declines to sample it.

Right now, as Nicky smudges eyeliner under his eyes and tugs at his shirt for the 80th time, he thinks it might actually be better to feel nothing.

He’d woken up from his…nap? He might have fainted actually? But he did it on a bed and it lasted for like 4 hours? So does that count as a nap? He wants to ask but also doesn’t want to worry anyone, maybe he could ask Aaron that if a Friend faints and doesn’t wake up for four hours is that a nap or a medical emergency? Just curious.

When he had emerged from Nicky’s room Captain Neil and Andrew had herded them all into the Maserati and they’d gone out and gotten McDonald’s for a late lunch. The only comment he had gotten when he’d asked for a happy meal (his stomach could not handle anything more) was whether or not he wanted the toy.

“Yes.” He answered panicked at the sudden question.

He got his Megamind toy, accidentally shone it into Aaron’s eyes when he pushed a button. “Shit that’s bright” before he apologized and shoved it in his jacket pocket.

They hung out at the house for the rest of the day.

They watched movies, played Mario Kart (how is Captain Neil this bad when his reflexes on the court are so good?) and did some homework. Andrew seemed to actually like the brownies which is why FF probably woke up from his... still haven’t asked Aaron if it’s a nap or a medical emergency.

He has a square and even at room temperature they taste great.

When it started to get dark they all went to go get ready. FF had gone to get whatever clothes Nicky had prepared on but had found himself sat on the man’s bed (so much glitter, seriously how can one bed have so much of it?) and Nicky holding a pencil to his eye and telling HIM not to flinch.

“Gonna have all the….” Nicky pauses and adopts a look on his face that means that he’s thinking incredibly hard about something. “Wait how have we been friends for MONTHS and I have no idea how you swing?” FF is caught off guard for a few moments because it’s the first time that Nicky has verbally confirmed that they are, in fact, friends and…

Wow.

That’s so nice.

He thought it was just Nicky’s innate inability to leave something to suffer needlessly that had the upperclassmen helping him. (FF has watched Nicky go out of his way to give cats food, turn turtles back onto their stomachs, and walk into traffic to stop cars so that a duck family could make it to a pond. He just sort of figured he was the same level of pathetic)

Wait.

What.

“Wait, what?”

“How do you swing?” Nicky repeats.

FF knows what he means but doesn’t want to. “With my left hand.” He responds and hopes Nicky drops it because the long and short answer is: he doesn’t know. He has no idea.

“Ohh dirty!” Nicky makes a jacking off motion with his left hand and FF feels embarrassed sweat cover his body, “NO! Don’t ruin my work!” Nicky yells fanning him with his hands so the eyeliner doesn’t run. “You know what I mean Smithy. Swing for girls, boys, both, neither? What am I working with here?” He asks wiping at FF’s cheek.

“I don’t…know.” He admits because deflecting is OBVIOUSLY not his strong suit. Twice in a row it’s brought up weird sex stuff.

“C’mon don’t be embarrassed. Even if you’re straight you’re obviously an Ally.” Nicky smiles.

“No it’s not…” he flushes okay he is embarrassed but that’s because he REALLY doesn’t know. Like how the hell did he get to college and have ZERO idea about what he’s attracted to or if he’s just not attracted to anyone? He’d been focused on not screaming for the last decade and that hadn’t really left a lot of room to consider how anyone looked. He’s getting used to having friends and three whole group chats (he’s bad at responding to them, overwhelmed by the idea that whatever he says can be revisited and picked apart forever but still, THREE!)

“I really have no idea.” He repeats.

Nicky blinks at him. “Okay well, college can be all about figuring that out then! No worries my sweet boy, we will figure this out.” Nicky pats his cheek.

He feels a little better.

“Alright, let’s go to Eden’s!”

Oh fuck that’s right.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lilyndra @themugglemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound

The requests to be added to the tag list got spread out across a few different mediums on this one so if I missed you then just ask in the replies!

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

#Fluent Freshman AU #Turns out I couldn't wait to write about Dan and Wymack coming out to recruit FF #So I used them as a means to talk about some other shit #And transition back to Thanksgiving Break #In the end no matter how silly he is #FF is a Fox #He's a Fox with all that implies #I'll touch more on his full past later but here's a lil taste #A lil angst as a TREAT #After all the sugar you need some bitterness #Could he really be a blorbo without it?#FF in the car on the way to Sweetie's: Hey so like random question here Aaron but what's the turn around time on fainting?#Aaron: the turn around time?#FF: Yeah like how long does it usually take for someone to wake up after they faint?#Aaron: Like 20 seconds #FF: So like four hours is abnormal #Aaron: 20 minutes is abnormal. Four hours is a medical emergency. WHY?#FF: Asking for a friend.#Aaron: That friend should be in the hospital #FF: Oh he probably will be later #I don't know if I'm gonna write them actually hanging out at Sweeties in their club outfits #I think the implied OH GOD I'M NOT DRESSED RIGHT that FF would feel is so obvious #But hey time to see who reads the tags #What flavor do you think FF would get for ice cream?#AFTG #AFTG OC #AFTG AU #AFTG Fic #FF - Pt. 15

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