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sweetpascal · 4 months ago

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𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 — 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞

gif by @iamasaddie

pairing: perv!stepdad!joel x fem!reader

summary: it's the first day under your stepdad's care, and boredom hasn't crept in at all. you suggest having a movie night, and to your surprise, he agrees immediately.

warnings: MINORS DNI. age gap [18/52], pervy thoughts, joel is condescending, sweet nicknames (sweetheart, babydoll), joel calls himself 'daddy', overprotective joel (in a bad way), innocence kink, DUB-CON, NON-CON, sloppy thigh fucking, somnophilia, we're starting out soft

wc: 2.9k

notes: DON'T LOOK AT ME.

series masterlist | next chapter

Waving at your mom from atop the porch, you couldn't help but feel the giddiness bubbling up inside. At last, the house would be peaceful without her snide remarks about what you're, how you're speaking, how you're sitting, and so on. The comfort of relaxing in your own sanctuary was something you've eagerly anticipated since she announced her week-long departure. Although it meant seven days of serenity, your stepdad, Joel, would still be around, which was fine by you. Compared to your mom, Joel was the cool, calm, and collected one, making him the favored parent in your eyes.

As her car disappeared around the corner, you dashed back inside and inadvertently slammed the door with too much force. You winced and clenched your jaw, hastily covering your mouth with your hands as Joel stomped around the corner, his deep frown evident, and large hands planted on his hips in a wide stance.

"What have I told you about slamming doors in this house?" he asks, eyebrows raised, head tilted, waiting for your response. He gestures impatiently when you hesitate. His tone is stern, and his expression suggests he is not in the mood for games.

"Sorry, Joel," you say meekly, your lips curving into a small pout, your heart pounding in your chest while his stern expression remains unchanged. Tears begin to fall before you can hold them back. With a soft sniffle, you turn away, embarrassed, to wipe them off.

You hear him let out a deep sigh from as you try to hold in your little cries. You hear his slow, heavy footsteps as he approaches. Then, you feel his big hands rubbing up and down your arms before turning you around to pull you into his chest. He hushes you softly, tutting quietly when your cries turn into whimpers.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmurs, bending down to kiss your head softly. "No need for tears. I ain't mad at you, silly girl." With a curled forefinger, he gently lifts your chin. He dabs at your tears and plants another kiss on your forehead, the sensation of his scruff against your skin causing you to close your eyes.

"You're not?" you ask shyly, sniffling quietly as you begin to calm down. "But you seemed angry at me, Joel. It was very scary." Fidgeting with the buttons on his flannel shirt, you remain too nervous to meet his gaze, especially given the close proximity.

Joel's lips form into a grin as he realizes the storm of emotions that you're feeling. Now that the two of you will be alone for one whole week, he finally has enough time on his hands to break you down and put you back together repeatedly. He's finally going to be able to mold you into his perfect little dream girl.

"What can Daddy do to help you feel better?" Hm? Tell me," he says softly, urging you to gaze into his eyes, which you did. Hearing what he called himself made you laugh, which made his grin grow wider. "What's so funny, huh?" Poking you in your side, he laughs when you squirm.

"Mom said I shouldn't call you that," you say, releasing a soft sigh and returning to your button fidgeting. "She says that I'm old enough to use your name, and she thinks it's weird." Your voice carries a touch of sadness that Joel picks up on. He clenches his jaw at the thought of your mother's judgment over something so inconsequential to her.

Joel lifts your head gently, placing his finger under your chin. He gazes into your shining eyes, your eyelashes stuck together from the heavy tears that are beginning to dry. His other hand grips your hip, causing you to make a small noise. Being this close to him, looking up like this, felt so wrong. It was an uncomfortable closeness, especially from an outsider's perspective.

"Alright," Joel says with a playful sigh, bringing a smile to your face. "Fortunately, we have the entire house to ourselves for a whole week. I might not be as young as I used to be, but I'll do my best to keep up with whatever you want to do. Does that sound good?"

You hum loudly, swaying your hips from side to side in Joel's embrace while resting your chin on his head and jutting your backside out to gaze up at him more comfortably. He swallows hard, stifling a strained groan. You remain unaware, preoccupied with thoughts about how to kick off your week. Suddenly, as if an invisible light bulb shined brightly atop your head, your expression lights up.

"Movie night! With snacks! Oh, please, Daddy? Pleeeaaase," you whine, stretching out the last word as you pout and make puppy-like noises. Joel rolls his eyes and gives your backside a gentle pat, a familiar gesture from your private moments together. Now, he can express his affection openly, without hiding it from your mother in the same house.

"Get your butt upstairs and get ready," he motions with his head, signaling you to hurry. With a delighted squeal, you leap up, press a kiss on his stubbled cheek, and scamper up the stairs, slamming your bedroom door shut. A muffled apology comes through the door, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

The market was unexpectedly bustling. Each cash register featured a lengthy queue of customers eager to check out. Amidst the commotion, you found yourself drawing nearer to Joel, clutching the back of his shirt as you attempted to match his brisk pace.

"Make sure to stay close to me, sweetheart. We don't want you to get lost, okay?" Joel had repeatedly told you during the drive and now.

You nearly regret wearing such a pretty outfit on a hectic day. Dressed in a simple summer dress with delicate straps, sheer thigh-highs, and petite wedges, you find yourself wishing you had planned more wisely. But Joel's constant compliments, calling you pretty and ain't you a peach made it worth it.

As minutes passed, you inadvertently drifted away from Joel. You had both wandered through the candy aisle when the array of lollipops, gummy bears, and jellybeans captured your gaze. Standing there, like a child in a candy store, you were practically quivering with excitement at the thought of your stepdad purchasing anything you desired. While reaching for a small bag of gummy worms, you were jostled by someone, prompting a gasp to escape your lips as the bag slipped from your grasp.

A hand reaches down, picks it up, and extends towards you, presenting the bag. You tentatively accept it from the man, turning to face him and feeling a wave of discomfort at his unkempt appearance. He gives you a once-over as he licks his bottom lip. The sight of his thinning hair and prominent belly does little to ease your unease.

"I apologize for that, sweetheart," the term makes you recoil as it feels off when he utters it. When Joel says it, it elicits a sensation of floating and tingling. "I wasn't paying attention where I was going, but you certainly are a pretty sight. Are you here by yourself?" His unsettling stare compels you to want to shield your skin and escape to a distant place.

You sweep the aisle with your eyes, searching desperately for Joel's familiar broad form. Your heart and thoughts are calling out to him, wishing he could sense your distress telepathically and come to your aid against this nasty man. Gripping the candy bag closer to your chest, you watch as he edges nearer, feigning interest in a label just over your shoulder.

"My, uh, my stepdad... he... he, uh..." You couldn't bring yourself to form words as the man's fingers adjusted the fallen strap of your dress. Whimpering quietly, you pressed yourself harder into the shelf, closing your eyes tightly and silently hoping that this man would just go away.

Before the man could approach further, a large shadow loomed over your closed eyelids. As you opened your eyes, you were confronted with Joel's broad back, his masculine scent overwhelming your senses. His hands were balled into fists. Peering around him, you caught sight of the man's eyes, wide with fear, his expression betraying his predatory intentions. As your gazes locked, Joel once again shielded you with his frame.

"I suggest you walk away right now before you find yourself picking up your teeth from the ground," Joel warns in a low, menacing tone that you've never heard before—not even with your mother or step-uncle. It's terrifying to hear him like this, yet there's comfort in knowing he can protect you should things turn violent.

The man dashes out of the aisle, abandoning his basket of groceries without hesitation. Joel remains in front of you briefly, ensuring the man doesn't come back to check if you're alone again. As he turns to face you, the anger in his eyes and the scowl on his face grow more pronounced. He presses you against the shelf, invading your space in an intimidating manner.

"What the hell did I just tell you before we came here?!" he exclaims, almost shouting, his brows furrowed and his voice booming. "I ain't the one you should be playin' games with, little girl." He points a finger at your face, leaning in until his breath skims across your skin. "Repeat it," he commands in a deep, rough voice.

"I… I…" Overwhelmed by the situation, you burst into tears and cling to Joel, burying your face in his chest once more, sobbing uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry, Daddy! I didn't mean to get distracted! And then that man, he wouldn't leave me alone!" Joel struggles to understand you through your sobs, but he hushes you gently, enveloping you in his strong arms and softly patting your back.

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, a gesture of exasperation at your naivety, so oblivious and innocent to the world around you. As your cries subside to hiccups and faint squeaks, he gently eases you away from his chest, indifferent to the tear stains on his shirt.

"Listen to me, and listen well," he says, his tone stern yet his large palms gently cupping your cheeks. "Men like that are the ones that wanna take you away from me. They wanna keep you locked away and keep you for their own. You're not smart enough to be left alone, sweetheart, because you get put into these situations and you don't know how to act. That's why when Daddy tells you to do something, you do it. Is that understood? Nod your head." He notices your eyes glazing over as you listen to him speak. Mimicking a nod, you snap out of your trance and return the gesture.

"I don't want anyone to take me away from you, Daddy," you whisper, the thought of being separated from Joel filling you with terror, and tears swiftly gather at the edge of your eyes once more. "It's scary."

Joel tuts at you, lowering his head to kiss your tear-stained cheeks. The salty taste of your tears on his tongue had a warmth spreading throughout his lower half. "I know, babydoll. I know," he murmurs, giving your butt a series of gentle pats as he kisses your forehead. "Daddy's here now. Get your snacks so we can leave."

That evening, you change into your sheep-patterned sleep shorts, a light white camisole, and cozy thigh-high socks. As you spin in front of the mirror, Joel's voice faintly calls you downstairs to start the movie. Laughing with excitement at the prospect of a movie night free from your mother's watchful eye, you clutch your beloved stuffed plushie and head out of your room.

Joel lounges on the couch, clad in sweatpants and a casual t-shirt. A bowl of buttered popcorn and assorted snacks are spread out on the coffee table. Beside him, a beer for himself and, thoughtfully, your preferred strawberry kiwi juice. The sound of your footsteps hurrying down the stairs reaches him. He contemplates reprimanding you, yet as you appear, the words dissipate unspoken.

The cool air made your nipples turn into peaks that poke through your thin top. The thigh-highs squeeze your thighs and makes them look extra plushy and grabbable. He takes a deep swallow and sips his beer, his gaze fixed on your appearance. You extend your hands, silently inquiring about your look. Joel scans you from head to toe once more, giving a nod of approval as his jaw tightens.

"You look very pretty, baby doll," he tells you in a strained voice, motioning for you to come closer as he lays out across the couch, his back against it. "Come cuddle so we can start the movie."

Approaching, he could detect the uncertainty in your body language and facial expressions. "Are… Are you sure we should cuddle? Will my mom be upset?" The naive inquiry prompted a rough chuckle from Joel. Your embarrassment was palpable as he laughed openly at your question.

"Oh, honey," he mocks sympathy and stares at you from his sprawled position on the couch. "You seem to keep forgetting in that little head of yours that I'm in charge of this house, and whatever I say, goes. Now, when I tell you to come over here, I expect you to do it without questioning me."

The commanding tone of his voice brooked no argument. To enjoy the week with Joel, you had to push your doubts and hesitations away, instead of fretting over your mother's opinion on the closeness between you two. Joel seemed to understand better; he knew what was best for you, and as he put it, his word was final.

As you approached where he lay, you could just make out him whispering, "That's my girl." The praise made you blush, cherishing the moments when you're told you're doing well and being a good girl for it. Joel consistently offered such verbal reassurance, never hesitating, even in your mother's presence. She, however, often showed her irritation with his way of praising you.

For god's sake, Joel. She's a woman, not a little girl anymore.

You eagerly lay beside him, your back pressed against his chest, as Joel draped a blanket over both of you and started the movie, "The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent." It was a moment you had anticipated ever since you mentioned to Joel how much the character Javi resembled him. Trembling with excitement, you snuggled closer to Joel, your smile buried in the stuffed animal you held, while his arm drew you in even tighter. A pleasant hum vibrated from his chest against your back.

Only thirty minutes into the movie, Joel heard a soft snore beside him. With furrowed brows, he leaned over and saw your closed eyes and parted lips, your arms clutching your stuffed animal to your chest as you hummed sleepily. Shaking his head, he lay back and pulled you closer, smiling to himself as you unconsciously snuggled into him. When Joel makes sure that you're fully asleep, he inches hips back and lowers the blanket off your body. Your sleep shorts had ridden up your thighs, further exposing your lower cheeks and giving him a glimpse of your panties.

"Fuck," he breathes out, feeling his cock beginning to harden and thicken in his sweatpants. With one hand holding onto your hip to keep you steady, Joel begins to grind his cock against your ass, slotting his covered thickness between your cheeks and breathing heavily into the back of your neck. "Goddamn."

You never once stir as you're so deep in your slumber, unaware of the world around you and what Joel is doing to your unconscious body. He can practically feel his tip leaking in his sweats, the gray color darkening as precum stains the fabric. Erratically, but careful enough to not wake you, he lowers his sweatpants and guides his thick cock between your thighs, the tightness of them closed creating a delicious friction that had his mouth dropping. Joel hikes your shorts higher up your waist, forcing the fabric tighter against the shape of your virgin pussy.

He fucks his hips forward and back, sliding his cock deeper between your thighs and further against your covered cunt. Sweat dots at his hairline and the back of his neck as the warmth in his gut coils tighter and tighter. He hears the distinct slick of his precum staining your inner thighs as he abuses them without your knowledge.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he grunts low in his throat, his hand tightening on your hip to position your body in a better way for him to fuck your thighs. "Daddy is such a dirty man, ain't he?" He fucks your thighs faster and faster, his thighs slapping against the back of your own gently. Surprisingly, the movement and noise doesn't wake you.

As he continues muttering to himself, Joel doesn't realize just how close he was. His balls were heavy with cum, waiting to be exploded onto your unexpected skin. The tip of his cock was throbbing with need and dribbling with more precum. His abdomen tightens when you shift and arch your back in your sleep, briefly tightening your thighs and rubbing them together.

The sudden friction had Joel choking on air before he hunches over your body and watches his cum shoot out of his engorged tip and onto the couch. He's biting down on the pillow as his thighs shake. He just won't stop cumming.

"Holy shit," he grunts quietly, falling back against the couch and swiping a hand down his sweaty face. He breathes heavily, wincing and tucking himself back into his sweatpants. He glances over at the tv, and Javi comes onto screen. He scoffs and shakes his head to himself. He doesn't see the resemblance.

taglist:

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @blueberrypancakesworld @heyhihello-4771 @codenamekitten @chamepagnessimo @idioticcatss @takochansugoi @zjasminelouvre3

!! let me know if you wanna be added to the next chapter !!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #dark!joel miller #dark!joel miller x reader #dark!joel x reader #stepdad!joel x reader #stepdad!joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller the last of us #dark!joel fic

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readingwriter92 · 2 years ago

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Ahhh you know it’s been a good week when my wall of things to do is tripling everyday and nothing is being taken off

#in my defence a few of the things are like. you need to do these next week or. minor things #but the majority is just you’re super behind on shit #ahhh fun times #52 sticky notes across four classes is fun #it could be worse tho. I have a whole one class that I’m not behind on

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niightniines · 4 months ago

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Alright Deathnote fandom, let's get this straight:

(tw: mentions of suicide and brain damage)

Misa Amane was kidnapped against her will and held in captivity for 52 days, aka 7 weeks, 1,248 hours, and a little under ⅙th of a year. During this captivity, she looked like this

Arms bound, strapped in, either standing or sitting, fully blinded, and only able to move when using the bathroom. She can talk and she can hear, but who is there to talk to? What is there to hear? Only the robotic, inhuman voice of her captor every few days asking her nonsensical questions about Kira and absolutely nothing else. Do you wonder if at some point she screamed until her voice gave out in a desperate attempt for something, ANYTHING, to happen? Maybe someone will come in and gag her again. Maybe they'll actually ask her what's wrong. Maybe someone will hear her outside, or the "stalker" will finally let her go. But knowing L who knows that a reaction is what she wants, he would simply mute the audio feed and ignore her for a few hours.

She tried to kill herself. Do you remember that? She almost bit her tongue. The torture was too much for her, and she would have gone through with it had they not forcibly stopped her from doing so. I don't think we can fully grasp just how damaging *fifty two* days of sensory deprivation to this extent truly is. Had Ohba done any research into what effects this torture would give Misa in the long term, she would be a sitting vegetable for the rest of her life fully incapable of anything, probably in a mental asylum. Misa Amane's confinement is extremely horrific and we fail to truly realize that.

She can't see. She can't move. There is nothing to hear, and nobody to talk to. And of course, the whole time she's wrapped up in some wet dream's uniform of nothing but a rag and bondage gear. For 52 days. That is 7 weeks, 1,248 hours, and roughly ⅙th of a year. let it sink in.

#death note #deathnote #l lawliet #misa amane #misa misa #lawmane #oops how did that get in there #sorry but y'all need to hear this too #ship it all you want but if you romanticize this part of Lawmane you low-key suck!#i ship it too I'm not an anti! but only in AU context where this shit didn't happen

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lucytara · 21 days ago

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a prompt for every week of the year

awhile ago, i created my own writing prompts along the lines of an old livejournal writing community called 52 flavours, whose prompts were always beautiful and abstract and poetic and evocative. these types of prompts have sort of become lost to fandom in favor of more straightforward and simplistic ones (which never inspire me much, personally) so as i start to post fics i'm writing to these prompts, i figured i might as well post the actual prompt list for anyone to use!

the distant glitter of the January sun

back then, everything was music

at the violet hour

the world begins at the kitchen table

it felt just like February; what had been falling snow was beating loudly in the street

Listen. Even the ocean begs.

still without sound

unsure of where to settle down for the night

March is a month of storms and lust

we’ve been alive just long enough

I wrote “valley” when I meant “longing”

you saw me one Friday afternoon and decided you should love me

I know I have been dreaming

April is the cruelest month

all this fucking with no hands on me

I’d write about you a lot more than I should

to put on your best outfit and feel like you’re dressing a wound

to be held by something reluctant to let go

Late in May as the light lengthens

I worry that love is violence

I’ve been trying to go home my whole life–

you can put your strength down

I wasn’t fooled. I knew you at once.

It is June. Let’s hope someone is kind, just in time

bend in a thousand directions

your smell was never unfamiliar

even hunger can become a space to live in

a kind of undressing

the July night is a song

you, you, and only you

they cannot exist without setting each other on fire

in your hand, its shaky penmanship, my own paper-thin nerves

staying up all night for it

the August sun, returning everything that was taken away—

and maybe love still smolders in my heart

the reverse of being haunted

I want I want I want

a day of rain; the kind you think will never end

September tastes of ashes

the museum of past lives

maybe a meteor or maybe a phone call or maybe a sudden shift in atmosphere

an old, old wound about to heal or about to bleed

the ache of everything unsaid

October is a thick and hollow bone

the difference between intimacy and radical intimacy

I caught you forgetting me

the wish for winter

Will you forgive me these November days?

amazing how long a ruined thing will burn

Look, you said, sunlight.

All my stories are about being left; all of yours are about leaving. We should have known.

It is December and we must be brave.

#writing #writing prompts #52 flavours

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prokopetz · 9 months ago

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Code Green

A game for 3–7 players, about being where you're not supposed to be.

Last night, you were suspended in a tube of brightly coloured goo in an underground research facility, operated by an organisation whose three-letter initialism's meaning is strictly need-to-know. This morning, someone noticed your tube was empty. Nobody has determined how that happened yet, and you're not inclined to stick around until they figure it out!

Or, in other words, it's been nearly a whole week since I got that massive revision to Space Gerbils out the door, and apparently my brain has decided that's enough of a break. This thing was written start to finish in under 12 hours, so let the circumstances of its authorship guide your expectations. Special thanks go once again to Caro Asercion, whose micro-RPG Dwindle introduced me to the design space I'm fucking around with here. Go buy their stuff.

Anyway:

What You'll Need

Code Green is a tabletop RPG for one game moderator (GM) and up to six players. Each player will need a copy of the Profile Grid, below, as well as three tokens of some sort: dice, coins, beads, etc. You'll also need at least five six-sided dice (for the whole group, not per player, though it's fine if each player has their own set). If you're using dice for tokens, it's recommended that the dice you plan to roll be visually distinguishable in case they land on someone's Profile Grid.

Rolling Dice

There are two ways you'll be asked to roll dice in this game: rolling d66, and rolling a dice pool.

To roll d66, roll a six-side die twice, reading the first roll as the "tens" place and the second roll as the "ones" place, yielding a number in the range from 11 to 66. For example, if you rolled a 3 and then a 5, your result is 35. You may also be asked to flip a d66 roll; to do this, take your result and swap the digits without re-rolling. In the preceding example, if you flipped your roll of 35, your new result would be 53.

To roll a dice pool, pick up the indicated number of six-side dice, roll them, and take the highest individual result. Duplicates have no special significance. For example, if you rolled a pool of three dice and got a 2, a 4, and a 4, your result would be 4. If you would ever roll a pool of zero or fewer dice, roll two dice and take the lowest instead.

Character Creation

Each player should create their own character. There are three things about your character which are always true:

You are newly born into the world. You may know things about the world (e.g., from your programming, having read them on a computer terminal, etc.), but you haven't experienced them.

You are implausibly good at remaining inconspicuous; unless you're deliberately drawing attention or doing something which requires a dice roll, humans will almost always fail to spot you.

You are not human. You can decide what that means.

To find out what else is true about your character, roll or choose three times from the Form table, and three times from the Function table, placing your results into the correspondingly labelled slots on the Profile Grid, below, in any order you please. Your three results from each table should be different; if you elected to roll and get the same entry multiple times, flip your result, and re-roll if it's still a duplicate.

Think about what your three Form traits and three Function traits imply about your character's physical makeup, but don't set anything in stone just yet – you'll see why not in a moment.

Finally, roll a six-sided die five times, and record the results in the order in which they're received. The resulting five-digit number is the only name your character has when play begins.

Table 1: Form (d66)

11–12. Blood 13–14. Bones 15–16. Brain 21–22. Claws 23–24. Ears 25–26. Eyes 31–32. Guts 33–34. Hands 35–36. Heart 41–42. Hair 43–44. Legs 45–46. Lungs 51–52. Nose 53–54. Skin 55–56. Tail 61–62. Teeth 63–64. Tongue 65–66. Wings

Table 2: Function (d66)

11–12. Accelerated 13–14. Autonomous 15–16. Auxiliary 21–22. Cryogenic 23–24. Cryptic 25–26. Elastic 31–32. Electric 33–34. Entropic 35–36. Invasive 41–42. Invulnerable 43–44. Kinetic 45–46. Magnetic 51–52. Phasing 53–54. Polymorphic 55–56. Projectile 61–62. Pyrogenic 63–64. Telescopic 65–66. Toxic

Playing the Game

Play proceeds in a series of scenes. In each scene, the GM will set the stage: a challenge to overcome, a peril to escape, a mystery to investigate, etc. Given the nature of your characters, most things will be mysteries to you!

Initial Token Placement

Once the stage has been set, place each of your three tokens on a different square on your Profile Grid. If you have no preference, you can roll d66 for each token and place it in the square whose marked numeric range contains the number you rolled, flipping or re-rolling your result if you get a square which already contains a token. The placement of these tokens represents your initial state when the scene opens. Depending on the nature of your character, this may be reflected by a shifting of internal focus, or by a physical transformation.

Participation

To participate in the scene, simply tell the GM what your character does; the GM will describe how the world responds, and ask what you do next. Whenever you wish – or are forced – to do something more than lurk and observe, you are obliged to make a test.

Making Tests

To make a test, first choose a pair of traits – one Form trait, and one Function trait – with which to face the challenge. For example, if your Form traits are Legs, Tail and Teeth, and your Function traits are Cryptic, Invulnerable and Phasing, you might test your Invulnerable Legs against the trouble at hand.

Next, count the number of tokens present in the rows extending from each of the chosen traits. The illustration below shows which squares would be consulted in the preceding example:

Next, roll a dice pool containing a number of dice equal to the number of tokens present on squares extending from the chosen traits. Do not count a token twice if it's on the square where the two traits intersect (e.g., the green square in the illustration above). In the event that no tokens fall on squares extending from appropriate traits, remember that you are allowed to roll a pool of zero dice by rolling two dice and taking the lowest rather than the highest.

Finally, compare your result to the following table:

1–3. Less than human. Whatever you'd intended to try still happens, but it cannot overcome human opposition (or adversity which would challenge a typical human), and any lasting effects are transitory and easily explained away. 4–5. Mostly human. Your effort can contend with human opposition (or circumstances which would challenge a competent human), and its lasting effects make it obvious that someone (or something) has been interfering with matters. 6. More than human. Your effort easily brushes aside any human opposition, and its lasting effects are impossible to rationalise as anything other than the intervention of inhuman forces.

Without Applicable Traits

In the event that you're forced to make a test and no possible pairing of your traits is applicable, you don't get to roll anything, not even with a pool of zero dice; simply resolve the outcome as though you'd rolled a result of 1–3. Other characters may attempt to preserve you from this fate by assisting you, in which case you roll one die per assisting friend; see below for more details.

Assistance

If you wish to assist another character in making a test, consult your own Profile Grid, considering only those squares which contain tokens. Only the specific pairs of traits represented by the squares on which your tokens fall are eligible for assistance; for example, if one of your tokens falls on the intersection of Cryptic and Teeth, you may assist with Cryptic Teeth, but not any other pair of traits involving Cryptic or Teeth unless those squares also have tokens on them.

If you're able to identify an eligible pair of traits that seems applicable to the test at hand, explain how you're using it to help, and hand the player making the test one extra die. Any number of characters may assist on a given test.

Providing assistance neither requires nor permits your character to adapt (see below) – it needs to be your own test for that!

Adapting

After resolving a test, your character adapts, shifting focus or form to reflect what they've learned. Take one token of your choice from your character sheet, and move it to a different square which doesn't already contain one. You can move any token you wish, but it must end up on a different square than the one it started on unless no valid destinations are available. Adapting is not optional, and must be carried out after every test.

Suffering Strain

If whatever you're making a test against is particularly strenuous or dangerous, you might suffer strain as a consequence. Strain will often be incurred on a result of 1–3, and rarely on a result of 4–5; only the most foolhardy efforts will incur strain even on a result of 6!

To incur strain, roll d66, and place a small X on the square on your Profile Grid whose indicated numeric range contains the number you rolled. If there's a token on that square, immediately move it to an empty square of your choice, unless fewer than three unmarked squares now remain; in that case, simply remove the token entirely.

For the remainder of the scene, tokens may not be moved to any marked square. In addition, if you suffer further strain, and the square indicated by your d66 roll is already marked, your character is incapacitated, and may not participate in tests at all until they recover.

All strain is cleared – and any discarded tokens restored – at the end of each scene. Incapacitated characters also recover at this time.

#gaming #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rpgs #code green #game design #violence mention #swearing

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aethon-recs · 2 months ago

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This Week in Tomarrymort (23 – 29 August 2024)

An exciting week in Tomarrymort land! 🎉 Some highlights and news:

aurora polaris (E, 217k, Voldemort wins AU with a side of amnesia!Harry) by @aglassroseneverfades finished with a 2-chapter update.

A Dangerous Game (E, 316k, Diary Tom in Harry's time) by @cybrid updated with a 9-chapter drop, and we are one chapter (only the epilogue!) away from the end.

AO3 user beetaker dropped a 135k completed fic this week alone??? (Dulce Et Decorum Mori - E, 135k, Harry Potter & Tom Riddle grow up together) It’s rarer than a blue moon that we see huge drops like this in Tomarry, so be sure not to miss it, as the whole fic posted all in this week.

The @tomarryverse Discord server is running a fest (AO3 collection link).

See below for a list of either ongoing Tomarrymort fics that I’m subscribed to or one shots that I found while browsing that were updated in the last week.

Previous Tomarrymort weeklies: 7-15 August 2024 | 15-22 August 2024

Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic

Chapters 38 and 39 (complete) of aurora polaris by @aglassroseneverfades

Chapters 1 through 10 (complete) of Dulce Et Decorum Mori by beetaker

One Shot | Big Things by @dividawrites

One Shot | phases of the moon by @jjaegerb0mb

One Shot | fundamentals of internet safety by @cindle-writes

One Shot | New Category: Pining Homosexuals by kcg07

One Shot | The Snake Speakers by sparrowshellcat

One Shot | Dawn Over Dust by Wolf_of_Lilacs

Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics

Chapters 52 through 60 of A Dangerous Game by @cybrid

Chapter 6 of Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse

Chapter 6 of Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic

Chapter 31 of Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapter 6 of Like we were before by tzutzutrain

Chapters 1 and 2 of Hole in the Wall by tomrddle

Chapter 5 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 32 of Terrible, But Great by @isalisewrites

Chapters 114 through 116 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis

Chapter 14 of Learning to love by @l-archiduchesse

Chapter 9 of Lovely and the Lion by @skellington24

Chapter 13 of Outrunning the Villain in You by @zenyteehee

Chapter 9 of Unfamiliar Recognition by @karnage-tsurugi

Chapter 8 of A Snake in the Grass by @teaandsweaters9

Chapter 3 of the silence in between by ermineah

Chapter 19 of What In Me Is Dark, Illumine by @telelli-writes

Chapter 1 of In My Lover's Room (i am free) by @bunnieblair

Chapter 7 of we made universes out of bitten lips and broken hands by @boyneptunee

Chapter 2 of quid pro quo by marshall_1300

Chapter 6 of His condition by @ciacconne

Chapter 16 of Date Ideas for the Linguistically Inclined by Antique_Mango

Chapter 4 of These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain

Chapter 1 of friend of the devil (a friend of mine) by @shyinsunlight

Chapter 3 of Cane Sugar by @blogalinda @cindle-writes @reggieblk @telectronique

Chapter 1 of before the day is done by @midsummersins

Chapter 3 of midnight train by @girl-with-goats

Chapter 5 of God is a Wizard by @onehitpleb

Chapter 4 of In a world where you and I dance by thelxiepeia

Chapter 19 of Occultation by TimaeusKosmou

#tomarry #tomarrymort #harrymort #tomarrymort recs #aethon recs #tomarry recs #ao3 recs #fanfic recs #hp fic recs #harrymort recs #tomarry weekly #this week in tomarrymort

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babycakezero · 2 months ago

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♡ a sudden confession !

A few soft knocks at the door of your room effortlessly peeled your attention away from the laptop currently placed ontop of your lap. You glanced at your alarm clock, '11:52 pm' it read in bright coloring.

Unlike most nights, Toru, your best friend since your first year at U.A, hadn't come over to your dorm room. She told you she wasn't feeling well, and didn't want to put you at risk of also getting sick.

So you had no idea whow as on the otherside of your door. And maybe it was because you uad just finished watching your favorite horror movie, but you could feel the invisible hairs on your body stand up at the millions of creepy monsters and deadly murders that could be lurking in the darkness just outside your door.

With your hands places snuggly on your waist, you called out quietly, "Yes?"

"It's Eijiro."

Oh. That may be worse than the evil murderous creature you had imagined lurking in the darkness just outside your door.

You opened the door, suddenly feeling exposed despite wearing your favorite colored pajama pants, and an oversized hoodie, that you nervously began to pull at the sleeves of.

You'd never let any boys into your room before, as you grew up with sligjtly strick guardians who thought it was inappropriate to have boy friends over in your room, which you always respected. Well, you actually let Koda into your room last semester because you desperately needed his help with a small bird that had gotten itself stuck inside your room. But, you supposed they couldn't actually get upset at you over that if they ever found out, since you did leave the door open the whole time and you kept a respectable distance.

Due to this way of your upbringing, you always kept a wall between you and whatever boy happened to be around. You didn't want to disappoint your family by becoming distracted by boys and dating. And besides, you never had much interest in those things outside of your favorite romance movies before. Before him.

The moment your eyes met his bright red ones, an accidental "Hi." Rushed out from between your lips.

"Hey." He smiled wide, like he always did, but now everything seemed different.

His hair, instead of its usual style that reflected well on your classmates personality, was now let down, and there were dark circles beginning to form under his eyes.

Was he... fake smiling at you?

"What happened?" You asked without much thought, suprised at yourself for even noticing, and caring, about such intimate things about the red headed boy.

His eyes darted away from yours, "Just... nervous, I guess."

"About graduation?" You finished with a guess, wondering why he was acting so strange as he stood before you wearing baggy sweatpants paired with an ill fitting tank top.

"That and.." You watched almost impatiently as his chest rose from beneath the red top, "I like you."

You blinked up at the boy. Once. Twice. And still, you hadn't the first idea on what to say back to him. Your first instinct was to just try and rewind time so you could ignore his knocking, or never attend U.A all together. Maybe then you would have never been distracted by him. You wanted to run away and hide, anything but be here.

But then a memory of a voice whispered itself inside you head, "Why don't the two of you just kiss already!" It was Ashido's voice when, during your second year, Kirishima had somehow managed to save you from hitting the back of your head by grabbing onto your waist. The memory itself was enough to make your legs feel weaker than jelly.

"H-huh?" Is all you managed to squeak out.

His hand attached itself to the back of his neck, a thing you realized he did whenever he felt nervous or shy, which was a rare thing to see, "I know it's pretty sudden to be confessing like this, but we're graduating in two weeks, and I realized that I couldn't live with wondering whether you would reject me or not for the rest of my life. And, if you don't feel the same, I'll totally understand, and also I hope I didn't wake you up. I should've just waited until morning, I'm really sorry-"

Was he... blabbering now? He was saying too many things all at once, and you felt as though you might short-circuit trying to comprehend everything that was coming out of his mouth.

"I like you too." You interrupted him, suprised at yourself.

"Wait... really?" His bright red eyes searched yours, and again you felt your face go red again.

Jeez, what would your family think of you right now? Getting red in the face over some boy, and letting it be even the smallest distraction from your hero studies. At your surface, you felt ashamed for allowing yourself to feel this way, but inside you wanted to be a kid, even if it was just for a few seconds.

"Yes." You answered with a small nod, your eyes desperately trying to look anywhere but his intimidating eyes.

"Then," He suddenly stood up straighter, making you crane your neck to look up at him correctly, "Can I please be your boyfriend?"

characters ♡ eijiro kirishima x ♡

a/n ~ write in the comments what you would say to our lovely, adorable eijiro kirishima !!

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vroomvroomcircuit · 15 days ago

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Waiting for the Ocean

(A/N): I just needed that. Maybe you do too. Enjoy.

Summary: Something wrong is with his girlfriend. Max is fearing for their relationship.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Warnings: GRIEF, angst, so so much angst, emotional pain, some swears.

Wordcount: 1.7k

��Masterlist🏎

______________________ Max fears for his relationship. It’s as simple as that.

Lea has been distant recently.

Not really engaging when Max talks to her, telling her things from media duties or bits and pieces from the debriefs and team meetings. Which is weird, to Max at least, because Lea is a queen for gossip. That’s their way of bonding.

But currently, Lea only nods, her eyes having a far away look in them, signaling to the dutch man that his girlfriend mentally checked out.

He also feels shut out from Lea’s thoughts. When just a couple of weeks ago she told him close to anything that went through the pretty head of hers, from unhinged ideas to deeply philosophical questions, now there is not even a single opinion voiced. They sit together in the living room like strangers in a café, merely sharing the same space, but not the same feelings anymore.

Lea started to keep more to herself, locking in her hobby room, or woman cave as she called it when they moved into the apartment. Max has to admit, while not particularly proud, that he already tried listening to what is happening on the other side of the cold door. But he never hears more than shuffling when pressing his ear on the firm wood.

As a man who for 24 out of 52 a year drives a car made of durable cardboard at a literal neck breaking speed, Max feels utterly and completely helpless. This sudden shift in his girlfriend's behavior, leaves him with a feeling of a big heavy stone in his stomach. There is no escaping this reality, no matter how much he wishes for it. Right now, his relationship with the love of his life is crashing against a wall much faster than he ever drove. And Max feels like a bystander, watching the car crash in slow motion and sped up at the same time.

This sinking feeling, when you suddenly realize that there is a fatal problem, it’s killing Max. It closes up your throat, making you afraid to eat, drink, fuck, even talk. The longer it settles into your stomach, the less anything makes sense. Reality becomes a warped precious piece, your whole world view is tilted on its axes. Is anything you ever believed in before this feeling creeped up, even true? Who is to be trusted when you can’t even trust your own feelings right now?

In the last couple of days, Max knows one thing to be definitely, unshakably, true: Lea is not cheating on him. He can’t explain how he knows it for sure. But if he starts accusing his beloved of being in an act that ultimately kills a relationship, he can break up with her right way anyway. Accusing Lea of cheating on him, turning her back on their relationship, is the equivalent of accusing her of killing his mother. Because in a way, she would kill his feelings. Towards anything.

He tries to think rationally.

If it is not cheating, what is causing this riff between them then? What else makes a person who shares one hundred percent of themselves, say next to nothing? What whimsical feeling, moment, must have happened to change a person this drastically?

Max thinks about when it all started a couple weeks ago. They haven’t been out at that time. It can’t be any outside trauma. Or can it?

Maybe it’s something on her phone? Maybe people started some online hate campaign?

Max does what he despises the most. but for the sake of his relationship, he takes this upon himself: Reading through instagram and twitter comments.

What the Dutch man sees is nothing amusing to him, but it is unfortunately only the “usual” amount of hate and insults Lea has to see herself confronted with as the girlfriend of Max Verstappen. Something you usually become desensitized to with time. Still, he sends a few of those to his team of lawyers, desperately wanting this scum of people to find themselves dealing with the consequences of her actions.

Maybe, the hate is part of the reason Lea is so distant? Is the hate and limelight finally getting to her? Max wouldn’t even be able to feel mad towards Lea if that was the case. He knows the bad feelings many humans harbor towards him for most of his life, since none of them really hold back on their opinions.

Fed up about the silence and this bad, acidic feeling in his stomach that is giving him a heart burn, bile rising up to his throat, Max knocks on the hobby room door. “Schatje? We need to talk.”

Silence.

For several minutes.

Maybe his girlfriend is listening to music and can’t hear him through her headphones? Max produces his phone from his pocket with his left hand, the right one clutching a bouquet of flowers -sunflowers- for her. Either as an apology for if he actually has done something gravely wrong, or as a little pick me up. Even though they are a bit of an odd choice, Max never questioned her preferences.

He looks at their shared spotify. Lea actually listens to music, in German he recognizes. It is called “Waiting for the Ocean”. An odd title. Max shrugs and calls her instead.

“M-max?” The woman’s voice is small. Broken.

The sinking feeling, the big stone in his stomach? Yeah, that one. It turned into a fucking mountain when he heard Lea calling for him through the phone. If he can, he would climb through it and hold her, protect her from all the evil in the world until it ends and burns to the ground. And beyond that, into eternity. If Lea lets him.

“Schatje? Can you please open the door? I think it is time to talk.”

One beat.

Two beats.

Three, four.

Shuffling.

Max feels a wave of relief, the mountain in his stomach transforming back to a big stone when he hears the lock clicking.

Lea stands there. eyes red, face hollow, shivering like a leaf in the wind. “Oh baby” Max coos, enveloping her in a hug so tight, he is afraid to break one of the young woman’s bones. The bouquet of sunflowers is thrown to the ground. There are more important matters on hand.

But it seems like that crushing hug is the twig needed to break the whole dam. The floodgates of tears open immediately, making Lea sob and cry into her boyfriend's arms. Knowing that if one person for sure catches and holds her when she is falling, it is her Maxie. The guy who once searched up every shop in Monaco that was still open in the middle of the night, only to find one specific sweet craving of hers.

The man, who keeps a little metal box with her supplements with him, because he knows she forgets them at home whenever they travel.

Her boy, the one who is shield and sword to her. He will always catch her.

“I-I miss her”, Lea hiccups between sobs. The pit in Max’s stomach is finally lifted, knowing he is not the root of this situation. But it is instantly replaced by an ache in his heart, going in so deeply, it could be a medical concern. Because the pain in her voice, it’s unlike he has ever heard from her.

It is so raw, so fresh, Max himself has to draw in a shaky breath. He gulps, drawing patterns and letters on her back with his fingers. “Who are you missing, Schatje?” The Dutch man asks the question to which answer he is afraid of hearing. The pain in her voice and tears streaming down her face in rivers are enough to deduce that the missing person in question is not easy to be reached.

It takes Lea a couple of minutes to calm down enough to even try to answer. Her sobs are just so body wracking, breathing doesn’t come easy to her. “My grandma”, Lea hiccups, clinging to Max. “It has been nine years. And it still feels like we got the message yesterday.”

The pit in Max’s stomach is back. He knows about the death of her grandma. He hasn’t been told any actual details, but just that it was tragic, untimely and right before Christmas started.

He pulls Lea closer to himself. Hoping to bring her the comfort she needs right now. The tears are back in Lea’s eyes.

“You know what hurts the most?” She sobs. “She died alone. In a hospital bed. Surrounded by loud machines, a sterile smell in a cold room. No one was there for her” Lea takes a couple deep breaths to continue talking the words off her chest, the one that feels so heavy, an elephant could sit on it and it would have been a lighter weight.

Max stays quiet, stroking her head and holding her tightly. He knows that it is not the time to say anything yet.

“She was all alone. Just one night nurse for who knows how many patients. A woman with three kids and six grandchildren. Dying alone. In the middle of the night. In pain. Max- she didn’t deserve any of this.” Lea dissolves in tears again.

Max just holds her. He can’t do anything else. No matter what he will say, the pain will stay.

Grief doesn’t work like that. There is no magical formula of words strong together that will make her feel better. Not right away. There is no good short term relief from grief. Because come to think of it, grief marks the love to one person that you just can’t give to them anymore. This is why it hurts.

And for love to end, there is no instant remedy. Just like for grief.

It comes and goes in ways. You can only stand on the shore and wait for the ocean to come, ready to swim in the waves of memories, pain, despair and a love that can’t be received anymore.

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x fem!reader #x you #x reader #x fem!reader #reader insert

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xolaanii · 8 months ago

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Help my dad not be literally toothless

Hello, i hate to do this so relatively soon after quite a few generous people on here pretty much saved me from being in trouble with my university, but, right now, I'm making this post to ask for some help in giving my dad some of his confidence and life back.

When my dad was very young he fell down a wall and on his head and was in a 3 week long coma, turns out though that this had some very nasty long term consequences for his jaw. This fall coupled with the fact that he is a smoker (he is doing his best to stop and I'm very proud of his progress rn) has caused at least 97% of his teeth to fall out over the years.

This is obviously not just an aesthetical problem (no matter what the health system here says) it is also slowly but steadily sapping him of his health because he can't eat properly, and also of his confidence since ya know he is just 52 years old. He is mortified of leaving the house except to go to work and he is so so skinny it's pretty sad to look at.

All this to say that I am making this post in an attempt to help him get at least some new teeth on his lower jaw, since that's where he has none right now. The whole procedure to replace ALL of his upper and lower teeth is so frighteningly expensive that there is no way it would ever happen, so any help in getting him those lower teeth would mean the world to me, my mom and most all to my dad.

If anyone can and would like to help (pls don't if you can't I'm serious mwah <3) my ko-fi is right here.

Under this cut is proof, including a picture of his mouth that was hell to get because my dad was mortified to even take it:

Toothless on the bottom and almost toothless on the upper jaw as well as you can see, there's also the scan the doctor made of his mouth just in case.

#vall txt #we need around 950 for some of the lower teeth #the whole procedure tho like i said in the post is so expensive i won't even write it out #i can't conceptualize that amount of money much less write it out #but yeah thank you so much for reading #pls boost if you want to <3

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dickarchivist · 6 months ago

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Lullaby of the Wolffe

Wolffe × GN!Reader

Word Count: 1087

Playlist: Lullaby of the Wolffe

Rating: PG Fluff, but as always Minors DNI 🔞

Contents and Warnings: Insomnia, growing panic due to Insomnia, service animal (charhound), intrusive thoughts, swear words, soft Wolffe, potentially OOC Wolffe, fluff, hurt/comfort, soft sleepy singing

Summary: plagued by anxiety, you can't sleep. Despite your best efforts, Wolffe wakes up beside you. Instead of being angry, he offers you a Lullaby to try and help calm you down.

Author's Notes: The other night I had really bad panic Insomnia and I wanted a comfort fic tailored to my bullshit. I decided it would be a good idea to make a playlist of songs I felt like Wolffe would sing to me in a soft baritone while rubbing my back and trying to soothe me out of my panic. Now that I've made it through the night, I'm writing the fic to go with the playlist. Please enjoy both! I hope you get some rest.

Taglist: @anxiouspineapple99 @wolffegirlsunite @wizardofrozz @eclec-tech @dystopicjumpsuit @clonethirstingisreal @wings-and-beskar @multi-fan-dom-madness @starrylothcat @n0vqni @sev-on-kamino @mythical-illustrator @523rdrebel @littlemissmanga @atomickidsoul @moonwreckd

You can't sleep.

You went for a run. You hit the gym. You walked your charhound. You read a whole book, from start to finish. Cooked meals for the whole week, cleaned the house top to bottom, The laundry was even folded.

You can't sleep.

It wasn't for lack of trying. You'd lay in your bed, but as soon as you'd turned off the distractions, you were alone, and everything else came rushing in to attack you.

"You left the stove on. No. Not the stove, the oven. What's that smell? Are you burning the house down!?" You jump out of bed, run to the kitchen, and there's nothing wrong. The place is just how you left it. That burning smell was the crisp charcoal smell of your service charhound, Soot. You mentally kick yourself, how could you be so stupid? You know that smell, you've known it since she was a pup...

Back in bed. Okay, you think, okay this time will be it. This time you'll sleep.

"You forgot to feed Soot. Useless stupid owner how could you do that to your own baby?" But Soot is asleep at your bedside, her belly warm with her meal. You lay back down. You try to sleep.

You. Can't. Sleep.

Tears well in your eyes and you scream. You're so tired. You can't believe how exhausted you are and yet not a single moment of rest finds you. Soot gets up and puts herself in your arms to keep you from getting distructive. Her higher temperature keeps you warm, but all you feel is cold. You don't sleep a moment all night.

You feel sick, you're sluggish all the next day, because of course. You couldn't sleep. It's been 52 hours. The first day you could hide it, the second it started to show, but today... today you're with the wolfpack. If Plo Koon doesn't bring it to anyone's attention first, you know that Wolffe won't let it slide when he sees you. You've never wanted to stay away from the steely eyed commander more than today.

"You look like hell." Wolffe actually takes his helmet off to get a look at you, and it makes your stomach hurt when you see the concern on his face.

You sigh, roll your eyes, "Thanks. Go away." and turn away from Wolffe, trying to focus on your own work.

"No." His voice is hard, and you want to lash out, but when he grabs your wrist and turns you around, all your anger dissolves at his orders, "Tell me what's going on. Now."

Tears welling in the corners of your eyes, you try to blink them away, try to act tough, but you break under his gaze. "I can't sleep!"

You sob, hard. Wolffe jumps when you rush forward to close the gap, pressing your face against his chestplate, arms clinging around him, and openly sobbing. He hesitates, but eventually puts his arms around you, rubbing your back. It's so comforting, but it only serves to make you cry harder. It makes you realize just how touch starved you've been...

"Alright Cyar'ika, why can't you sleep?" You didn't know his voice could be so soft...

"I d-dont- dont know!" When you pull back, he holds your cheek, rubbing away tears. You close your eyes, and try to breath a little more evenly, "I h-have Insomnia, a-and it's been a few days since-"

"Days?!" Wolffe barks, now holding your face in both hands, "Kriff- you're coming with me."

He grabs your wrist, hauling you through the hallways of the ship. He opens a door to reveal a vacant sleeping quarters, and your stomach drops. "N-no, Wolffe, you don't get it... nothing is going to help, and especially not without Soot here, I won't be able to fall asleep. It's hard enough with Soot, but alone, I can't-"

"Shut up." You do, looking away bashfully, until the door closes behind the two of you, at which point Wolffe starts to take off his armor, "Get in the bed."

You blush wildly, covering your eyes, "Wolffe I'm sleep deprived, not- not sex deprived, I'm really sorry if I misled you but- s-stop laughing!"

"Cyar'ika, we are not having sex. Just getting my armor off so I'm comfortable too. Get in the damn bed, you'll see." Wolffe takes your hands from your eyes and leads you over to a bunk.

He helps you down, takes off your boots, and guides you to lay down. Your face is still hot when he gets into the bed with you, and he earns a squeak from you when he handles you into a cradled position. Your head rests on a pillow between yourself and his arm, comfortable for both of you. His other arms curls around you and you feel his hand rubbing soothingly up and down your back.

"I could use a rest, and you definitely need one. Get some sleep... that's an order." He chuckles at the last part, and for a moment, you think this might actually work.

Unfortunately, as soothing as it is, Wolffe's presence did nothing to stop the panic Insomnia. As soon as it's quiet, your mind starts racing. Thoughts of guilt, of shame, thoughts that this is all pity, that he didn't want you because you're undesirable, that-

"Cyare, quit squirming. What's going through that head of yours?"

"E-everything..." damn it. You didn't even notice your movements, but they'd been enough to wake Wolffe, "Once it's quiet, I can't sleep... can't stop the thoughts..."

There's a long, painfully quiet moment where you think you've said something wrong, until you hear Wolffe take a very deep breath. He kisses your forehead, whisping on your skin, "If you tell anyone about this I swear..."

It starts as a hum, a familiar tune rumbling in his chest. Eventually it builds, and he's whispering the song to you. You pull away a little, looking at Wolffe in awe, "Are you... singing me to sleep?"

"If it works." He kisses your forehead, encourages you to get comfortable again, and then picks up his song again once you're secured to his chest.

You don't even notice when you fall asleep. And you don't know how long you slept, but it was peaceful. Restful. You don't even remember the dreams you had, if you had then at all.

"Hey there Cyar'ika, sleep well?" Waking up in his arms, that's what really felt like a dream.

"Thanks to you, I did."

#from the archivist #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe #wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #wolffe tcw #tcw fanfic #sw the clone wars #sw fic #sw tcw #clone x you #clone x reader #fluff

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