#My mind is all over the place I probably forgot to cover half of what I was thinking- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

siconetribal · 5 months ago

Text

Put it on My Tab (16)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Warning:

Backpack newbie, All the green flags, It is time for...the talk

A/N:

I originally came on here about 45 minutes ago to post this and got completely side tracked and distracted by a draft that was just staring at me for days. (I normally don't see it on the app and I might have been avoiding it because I couldn't decide on what to choose.) Anyways, without further ado, the next installment!

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!

As always, a huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

Jason waited patiently for her to climb on. He watched her shuffle bit by bit closer to him and his bike. He could not see her face because of the helmet, but he did not have to. He knew the type of face she must be making, and he had to keep his composure to not laugh at how cute this all was. Y/N was not the first innocent young woman he has dealt with, nor the first one to sass him back. She was a weird combination of the two that was uniquely her, and that is what drew him to her. Normally, someone like her would have never spoken to someone like him. Their worlds would have never collided. In reality, anyway. The fact that she’s IAmBatman still throws me for a loop. I would’ve bet big money it was one of the other Robins trolling me. He was about to ask if she needed help when he felt his bike shift from the added weight and her arms squeeze him tight, in what probably was her version of a death grip but ended up as more of a bear hug for him. Yeah, I’ve been squeezed harder by worse. I don’t mind this. He lightly patted her arms.

“I promise, I won’t do anything to scare you. Just follow my body and don’t be too stiff, ok?�� He looked over his shoulder to see her try to look up at him, but his helmet was not doing her any favors. He snorted out a chocked laugh and quickly looked forward once more. “Sorry, sorry,” he reached back and hooked his hand under her thigh by her knee, tugging her leg up to rest her foot on a proper place. The motion had her scooting closer, and she jumped again when he pulled her other leg. “Keep your feet here and just enjoy the ride. Did you want me to put on some music? I have Bluetooth in my helmet. It won’t be easy to talk, since you won’t be able to hear well.”

“Music is fine, but how will you hear?” She spoke a little louder to not come out muffled.

“I’ll be fine, I rather you be comfortable.” Yup, she’s definitely having trouble hearing me. “Do you listen to anything in particular?”

“Anything is fine by me, but I tend to do more 90s rock. Linkin Park, Coldplay, or My Chemical Romance are always appreciated.”

“Really?” He looked over his shoulder again to see if she was lying, but was met with his helmet. Right, I forgot about that. He rolled his eyes at his little lapse in memory. Didn’t expect that list from her. She really knows how to surprise me every time. He searched around a bit and managed to build a small playlist of songs for her to listen to. “Let me know if this is too loud.” He played a song and waited until they found a good setting for her. “Hold tight when the music starts and just move with me, ok?” He secured his phone and pulled out his red half mask that covered his mouth.

I don’t think any of the guys I’ve dated have ever been this considerate. He’s not a textbook gentleman, but he’s pretty close. Y/N was genuinely surprised with how much care he was taking with her. She was nervous that he may find her burdensome and tried not to cause much trouble. The tug on her legs caught her off guard, literally pulling her from her thoughts and scooting her closer to him. His voice was a bit muffled, but she was not sure which made it worse: the beating of her heart that was now magically in her ears or the helmet. Either way, she managed to figure out what he was saying and answer.

“Do you listen to anything in particular?”

“Anything is fine by me, but I tend to do more 90s rock. Linkin Park, Coldplay, or My Chemical Romance are always appreciated.” Is that weird to say? Maybe I should've said something more pop or indie? But I like them and they’re my go-to music.

“Really?” she felt him twist, so she looked up, or at least tried to but could only see part of his face.

How do people ride with big, clunky things like these? Then again, this is his size, so it’s probably not so big or clunky to him. She reasoned.

Soon enough, everything seemed settled and as soon as the music started, she tightly held onto him. As promised, he kept to an easy speed which allowed her to take in her surroundings. It was not as scary as she thought it would be. The cars that zipped by were not the best, but Jason clearly knew what he was doing and avoided all trouble. At a red light there was a car revving its engine and some passengers were heckling them, but he seemed to just ignore it.

I wonder, would he have responded to them if I wasn’t here? They’re pretty annoying. This is the third light they’ve stopped at with us and are still trying to get a rise out of him. She frowned, unable to hear them thanks to the music. A bunch of rowdy losers. She tightened her grip on Jason. The pat to her arms surprised her, but it was reassuring. Cici’s right, I need to talk to him about the bill. He’s not going to throw a fit and storm off.

Y/N looked up as they pulled into a parking lot. It was a diner she had seen on a few of the bus rides when the usual bus was not running. She had always thought about stopping by, but it was always a fleeting thought until she saw it again.

“We’re here,” she heard him as the music stopped. “You climb off first, I’ll keep the bike balanced.” She quickly followed his instructions and managed to get off without fumbling, much to her own surprise. Feeling proud, she stood a little taller and pulled off the helmet

“Not so bad, right?” He grinned, his mask hidden in his jacket once more.

“I’ll admit, not as scary as everyone makes it out to be. You were a textbook motorcyclist. I thank you for not trying to give me a heart attack.”

“Bikes get a bad rep, couldn’t let that happen again. Want your bag? It’ll be safe here if not.” Y/N hesitated for a moment. If he does end up freaking out on me, I’ll lose my things. It’s unlikely he would, but I can’t risk it. Who knows what’ll happen. 4k isn’t just some simple bake sale change. “Yeah, I probably should. My phone is there. I should have it on me in case Cici tries to reach me.”

“Say no more,” he carefully handed it to her and took his helmet in return. “C’mon, let’s get some grub. I'm starving!” He led the way inside.

“Well look who it is, back again? Oh, you’re not alone this time?” Y/N looked up at the sound of the gruff voice to a big older guy standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Hey Charlie, what can I say, I like your food. Yeah, I brought a friend, we’ll seat ourselves.” Jason hooked his arm around her shoulders and led her to a booth where there were not as many people. A young woman came around with the sticky laminated menus, pouting at the sight of Y/N. It was evident that the waitress was interested in the handsome regular and Y/N was not off to a good start.

Better not do anything to get her spitting in my food. She nervously smiled, picking up the menu.

Jason watched Y/N as she looked over the choices, a small smile tugging at his lips as he recalled how proud she looked when she dismounted his bike with ease. He was nervous that she may not have liked the ride because of the overcompensating teens that were trying to get him to race, but she had yet to say anything so he let it be

Those dumbasses were lucky they were allowed to keep up with me. I'd been impossible to catch if I was alone. I’m just glad she wasn't annoyed by them. The ride was peaceful aside from that. She was not stiff and followed his lead well, which was great for him. Feeling her pressed against his back made him realize just how much smaller she was compared to him. She was not frail or sickly, but she was comparably weaker than him or many of the other females he has worked with. Then again, none of them are run-of-the-mill either. He realized the unfair comparison. It was different though, a good difference. He could not really put his finger on why it mattered, but it had. Instead of stressing on it, he let the thought come and go.

When they reached the diner, he asked her about her belongings and she hesitated. She was clearly weighing the risks and benefits. It was not shrewd, it was logical. Even though he was a secret vigilante, she should be cautious. If he was anyone else, she could have been a lot of trouble. Hearing her answer was a relief. He had no intention of just up and leaving her, but anything could happen. Duty could call, and he would need to go, and she would be stuck here. The idea of abandoning her did not sit well with him, and he could not figure out why.

Regardless, everything is going pretty smoothly for now, maybe we can have a decent conversation. I need to bring up the money, but she’s yet to even ask for my name. What does a guy gotta do to be inquired about around here!? He propped an elbow on the table and glared at her reflection in the window, chin resting in his hand.

“So, I suppose I should start with a name, huh?” His ears perked up at the words, and he quickly turned to face her. “We’ve obviously met a bunch of times, but I didn’t really think we’d ever meet again after so I never bothered. My name's Y/N Y/LN, what’s yours?”

Did I hear right? Did she just and then just? Have I died? Like actually died-died? “Took you long enough,” he grinned. “Nice to meet you officially, my name is Jason Todd. Now I can change your contact name from ‘Trouble Magnet Barista’ to your actual name.”

“You did not,” he showed her his phone and she whacked him with the menu. He laughed as he dodged the hit.

“You refused to give me your name. What was I supposed to call you? The Expensive Inquisition? Or D.I.D. #1?” He smirked as she scowled at him. “You have no one to blame but yourself for that.”

“I should change your name to Sir Questions-a-lot.” He heard her grumble as she took out her phone and changed his name while he changed hers in his phone. “Something tells you wanted to say more than just your name, what’s up?”

Y/N stared at the words on the menu but paid them no attention. She needed to get her thoughts in order and strike up the conversation without insulting or angering him. It’s not every day some chick comes demanding a large sum of money like that. She glanced at him over the top of the menu. Well for normal people anyway. Trust fund kids with a playboy father might have people knocking on their door all the time. I need to make sure he knows I'm not one of those people.

“So, I suppose I should start with a name, huh?” She finally built up the courage to speak up. “We’ve obviously met a bunch of times, but I didn’t really think we’d ever meet again after so I never bothered. My name's Y/N Y/LN, what’s yours?” She anxiously waited for his response as he simply stared at her with wide eyes. Oh no, did I do that wrong? How else was I supposed to do it? I can’t just say ‘hi’ like we weren’t just with each other!

“Took you long enough,” he grinned. “Nice to meet you officially, my name is Jason Todd. Now I can change your contact name from ‘Trouble Magnet Barista’ to your actual name.”

“You did not,” she gasped when he showed her the screen and she swung the first thing in her hands, which was the floppy menu. Sadly he was able to avoid the feeble strike.

Y/N stiffened at his reminder of why she even brought up their names. He was right. She made the decision to talk to him about the hotel bill. Jason had to have known he broke the machine, but was unaware of the bill that followed. How else would he be so carefree?

“Yes, there is something else.” She set her weapon down and took a deep breath. Just rip it off like a bandaid. “The hotel we stayed at,” she paused for a moment, shifting her gaze from his face to the table. “They contacted me that weekend and told me there was damage to the room. I know you didn’t do it on purpose, but the price to pay is really steep. I won’t demand you to pay all of it since I’ve already started paying it off, but I’d appreciate it if you’d help me with the rest. Which is why I’ve been working like crazy to cover the costs, but it’s slow progress and the hotel is starting to get annoyed with how slow the progress is. Not only that, but I’m afraid they’ll throw me into collections, which will only cause more problems. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you, nor did I want to blame you, but Cici and I are already living tight as is.” She tried to speak as calmly as possible, but her tempo sped up a bit towards the end as her nerves got the best of her. There, I said it! Now all she had to do was wait for him to respond.

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali @antiquecultistst

55 notes · View notes

tsukimefuku · 8 months ago

Text

to be loved is to be changed ❖ nanami kento

summary: after an unexpected talk with gojo, you begrudgingly went to work for jujutsu high. meeting new people and encountering a friend from the past has you wondering how much things might have changed (or not).

tags: jujutsu kaisen, f!reader based off of an oc, soft/implied nanami x oc/reader, students being students, gojo being gojo, nostalgia, fluff, some life contemplation.

wc: 2.9K

notes, etc: i wrote this to the sound of nothing in my way (keane), and i'm editing it to the sound of akatsuki no kodou (unchain). this story came into my mind as i remembered that garfield plushie image that got very famous a while ago (to be loved is to be changed). finally, "majo" means witch in japanese.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

"Gojo said he has the situation under control," you repeated to yourself, nervously, as the train approached Tokyo. You could see the sunlight darting in between the city's skyline, casting streaks of light over you and the empty seat by your side, occupied solely by your tiny luggage. "He has it under control."

You sighed, rubbing your own arm in an unsuccessful attempt of self-comforting, just before the train slowly stopped in its tracks. Clenching your fists in knuckle-white balls, you got up, holding your dark green beaten up travel suitcase and making your way out in between hurried people.

Every step sent a wave of impact up your legs, and you were especially concerned with the fact that you probably forgot to breathe for a few seconds.

"He's got it under control."

Right after you exited the Shibuya train station, you darted your eyes through the crowd, trying to find him. Your cellphone, already six years ancient, barely qualified as a communication device anymore. The screen, cracked by time and your own lackluster capacity to keep things unscathed, offered little to no support if you needed to text someone. He has the six eyes, you figured, he'll probably find me before I find him, anyway.

And you were completely right.

"It's been a long time!" You heard the unmistakable voice resonating behind you, a playful cadence that vibrated through the air. Turning around, you saw Gojo waving at you, and you waved back weakly — something uncharacteristic for you, always sardonic and well carried yourself. Thing is, you were just still terrified at what Jujutsu High might be once again plotting, and how it could involve you. "How was your trip? Wow, your hair really is big."

"Anxiously ridden, pretty boy. It's been a minute," you answered, stretching forcefully a half smile on your cheek.

Instead of the characteristic pout he'd have ten years ago when you called him pretty boy, his face was covered by a frivolous smile, to which the blindfold only served to enhance its mystery and intentions.

He had changed, and so had you.

He wasn't that boy that saved you anymore.

Neither were you the person he had saved. Not anymore, at least — thankfully.

"Don't worry, everything is taken care of. I've got the car here to take us back straight to Jujutsu High."

Ah, inside the belly of the beast, it seems. Just perfect.

***

As he presented your room where you'd be until you could find an appropriate apartment or flat for yourself, you wondered where all the people could've gone. You saw some students sparring by the track field, but apart from that, the place was uneasily peaceful.

"It's kind of… Empty around here, isn't it?" You noted.

"Oh, we have few sorcerers, which is why having you on board will be nice. You can aid Shoko and get some weight off her shoulders. Maybe she'll even ditch the eye bags!" He chirped, jokingly. You huffed from a smile, taking in slowly what it all meant.

A decade later, after you sworn never to come to Jujutsu High, here you were, ready to work for them.

What a ploy.

"I'll let you get settled. Then, come outside, I'd like to introduce you to the students!"

"Me? To the students? Why?" You inquired, considerably confused.

"Because you will help me in teaching these kids. Maybe you can teach them RCT, because God knows Shoko couldn't even teach me, and I'm something of a genius. Hurry up!" He playfully chanted, waltzing out of the room before you could muster up an answer.

Changed, but not so much, it seems.

After you had splayed your things on your bed, separating all your cans and glass jars, all containing an assortment of different herbs and dried ingredients, you got up, heavy heart rumbling inside your chest, as you realized you'd be venturing around the lion's den for quite some time before you could find someplace else to live.

You quietly made your way outside, innocuous thumps hitting the hardwood floor below your sock covered feet, right before you reached outside and jammed them inside the already beaten up sneakers — that is, if they could even be called that anymore.

You approached the teens, and none of them paid much attention to you as you came silently towards them. There were five of them, and… A panda? What?

Gojo clapped twice, garnering everyone's attention. There were three boys, and two girls.

"Students, please, welcome your new teacher!"

"Hello! Itadori Yuuji!" The pink haired boy chirped, happily.

"Fushiguro Megumi, it's nice to meet you," the brooding one said, bowing politely.

"Kelp."

Say what now?

"That's Inumaki Toge, he's a cursed speech user. He speaks in rice ball ingredients due to his technique," Gojo clarified.

Oh, I see.

"Finally, a woman teacher that might actually teach us something!" One of the girls said. She seemed spunky with her short red hair. "I'm Kugisaki Nobara."

Finally, you looked at the last girl who sat by the stairs, holding onto a staff that had a blade on its tip. "I'm Maki."

You then looked at the panda, and kept staring at him. Everyone was silent for a moment, as you tried to grasp what exactly was going on.

"I'm Panda," the panda answered.

You were left dumbfounded, but decided to not inquire further, considering it might be rude.

Who the hell knows.

"It's good to meet you, guys. Hope you can learn a thing or two from me. I've lived many things," you concluded, in a somewhat ominous fashion. Your attempt of a joke fell on deaf ears, and they all seemed a little confused, if not slightly taken aback. Yuuji tried a polite laugh, but Megumi elbowed him.

Gojo chuckled, grinning widely as he put his hands on his waist. "Never mind, students. She's like that. That wasn't even the worst thing she's said out of the blue."

He turned his blindfold covered-face towards you.

"You haven't changed at all," Gojo noted.

Except you had.

"Oh, come! There's more that I want to show you before I leave to take care of some things," he then exclaimed, long strides, instantly making his way out from the students without even waving them goodbye.

You followed suit, and accompanied him hurriedly. You were by no means small, but Gojo was enormous, and had what could be called "legs for days". Each step he took, required two steps from you to keep up.

"Hurry, woman!"

"I'm going, I'm going!" You answered, pacing quickly behind him.

You both walked across the track field, went up two flights of stairs, and stopped in front of a red wooden door that made way inside one of the multiple buildings inside the campus. Seemed huge for such a short-staffed personnel.

Gojo knocked on the door three times, and waited around five seconds before effectively barging in unceremoniously.

"Come!" He yelled at you, and you began to step inside.

"Gojo, I was finishing my report about today's mission with Yaga on the phone. You should learn to wait for someone to effectively let you inside the premises after knocking," you heard a so familiar voice say.

"Nanami?" You asked, walking towards the tall blonde man in front of you. You had seen him in Tokyo around four to five years ago, completely by accident, and forgot to get his number on that opportunity. At that time, he wasn't enrolled with jujutsu affairs anymore, and you remember chastising him for it.

Now, he had a pale beige suit on, wore a blue button shirt with a yellow splatter print tie, and had a particularly unique pair of glasses covering his eyes.

"It's you!"

His eyes widened slightly as he said your name.

You nodded. "Yeah. Myself, plus the long hair. It's nice to see you again."

A genuine smile covered your face.

He tipped his head softly, "it's nice to see you again, too. What has brought you here to Jujutsu High?"

You scoffed, looking at Gojo. He lifted his hands, saying, "well, they were up plotting against her, so I just pulled a few strings that basically required her to come here."

You sighed.

"Yeah. They were up to their classic shit, I guess."

Nanami sighed back.

"I see."

"So, about your work here," Gojo began, "given you have very little experience in effectively fighting in the field to exorcize curses, Nanami is being now appointed to shepherd you until you are acclimated!"

"Say what now?" You asked, at a loss for words. Isn't jujutsu sorcery a solo sport? Why the hell am I going to have a partner?

"And who has made that decision? Gojo, you should've informed me about this beforehand. I can't be caught off guard this way."

"What?! I wanted to make a surprise! You guys haven't seen each other in a decade!" He said in his defense.

"Actually, I ran into Nanami by accident around five years ago here at Tokyo, when he was a salaryman," you replied. "He was too good for that, so I gave him a hard time and told him to go back to being a jujutsu sorcerer."

"Huh?" Gojo asked. "Five years ago?"

"Yes" Nanami acquiesced.

"I bumped into him, we had a chat, I took my train, and well, here I am, I guess," you concluded, smiling.

Gojo chuckled, and put his hands in his pockets, realizing the timing.

"Are you sure you still want to complain about shepherding her?" He asked Nanami, with a hint of mischief in his voice.

Nanami sighed, yet again.

"I have no objections on that matter. I'd just like to have been informed beforehand."

"Oh, come on, Nanami. Gojo tried his best to make a surprise, he just disregarded the fact that you clearly hate surprises."

"Hey!" Gojo complained.

Nanami shook his head at Gojo's antics, but underneath his blank facade, you saw the all too familiar amusement he had all the times you picked fun at Gojo.

We haven't changed. Have we?

***

Weeks had passed, and you couldn't live another second like this. You just couldn't.

The long hair getting glued to the back of your neck, sweaty tangles that took eons to brush out, was simply becoming too much of a hassle.

You sat in the bathroom, on the toilet, shortly after your latest mission with Nanami, and grabbed the first pair of scissors you could find inside your own small bag of toiletry amenities — they were for cutting nails, at most, and fit pathetically small inside your palms.

Grunting, you got up and walked towards the mirror of the collective bathroom, ready to start chopping your hair away, because the mere thought that it would still be there in the following hour reveled your body with anticipated discomfort.

At that moment, both Nobara and Maki, two of the students you had been teaching closely these last few weeks, went inside the bathroom. They stopped in their tracks, looking at you, doubtfully, as you held a black lock of hair extended to the side of your head, flaunting the tiny scissors underneath it.

"Sensei, what are you doing?" Nobara asked, genuinely confused.

"I'm cutting my hair," you answered, ready to start trimming.

Maki and Nobara stared at you for a moment.

You sighed.

"Look, I don't know anything properly around here, leaving the campus is usually a pain in the ass for me because I still don't understand how this assistant shenanigans works, and I just need to cut this hair out before I go completely insane." You sighed. "And this manicure scissors are all I have. So I'm cutting my hair."

Nobara and Maki shared a brief look between them.

"Sensei, with all due respect," Maki began.

You looked at her from the reflex on the mirror.

"You definitely are not cutting your hair like that."

"Huh?" You mumbled.

"Look, I have better scissors with me. Let me get them and we can help you. I'm pretty familiar with it, I take care of my hair myself." Nobara offered, approaching you.

You pondered for a moment. "Okay. I really could use some help."

Around an hour had passed since the girls had run into you in the bathroom. They took you back to your room, properly put a towel around your neck, and Nobara chipped away at your rich thick black locks of hair as she and Maki complained about their peer's latest shenanigans. Apparently, Inumaki and Panda were given to stealing their jackets and skirts to run around the campus. You chuckled at the image of that, up until Nobara reminded you she had a sharp pair of scissors to your hair.

After you were finished, you looked into the tiny mirror you had on your makeshift dorm room, and saw the same face from ten years ago, with the same short black hair.

Was it the same, though?

***

You had been feeling specially sad for the past few days. After finishing another mission with Nanami, you both went back to campus, and you had offered him your classic Oka tea, which you both drank many times together in Odate, ten years prior.

The Oka tea, your specialty, the secret recipe of your family — your pride.

However, when you searched through your herbs, dried ingredients and spices you brought, you realized the dried orange was completely missing.

You knew, as well as anyone in your family, that the Oka tea could never miss any ingredient, especially the dried orange slices.

I'm so sorry, Nanami. I wanted to teach you to make some Oka tea today, but I just can't do it without the dried orange slices. It's just not Oka tea without it. You remembered saying.

You weren't usually that attached to recipesto such a personal degree, but being here, in Jujutsu High, elicited so many memories from your past that you felt homesick, and the only way you knew you could taste home back again would be with a warm cup of Oka tea.

Nanami wasn't annoyed at your upsetting at all, and pointed out that recipes really were meant to be followed in order to obtain the best outcome when cooking.

Right now, you were sitting at the tiny kitchen they had for the use of people that lived inside campus, and you felt heartbroken, missing your tea, as you gazed at all the other ingredients you had left on the counter since then.

There was a knock on the door, and you told the person to come in. It was Nanami, and he carried a plastic bag with him.

"Hey, Nanami," you greeted, slightly disheartened. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

He put the bag over the counter and looked at you.

"I bought us some dried orange slices for you to make your tea."

"... What?" You looked inside the bag, and sure enough, there was a small plastic packaging with some dried orange slices inside it. "Nanami, thank you so much."

"It wasn't troublesome at all, there is a store that sells dried ingredients and similar types of products near where I live."

You smiled at him.

"Well, now I can show you the recipe, then."

He nodded.

"I hadn't anticipated you'd actually be missing any ingredient for this tea, or to not have it already prepared and at your disposal," the sorcerer huffed, amusement and nostalgia glimmering underneath his chiseled passiveness. "I remember you usually tossed into hot water some packets that you, for some reason, always kept on yourself, and it always tasted the same. It was an unexpectedly odd phenomenon," Nanami pointed out, referring to the time you both spent working together at Odate.

"Haven't you heard? I'm a majo."

You poked fun at your own past, when you were shunned, called and treated like a witch by the very people from your hometown.

The faintest hint of a smile covered his face.

After mixing up all the ingredients, including the dried orange slices Nanami had brought you, walking him step by step on how to make Oka tea, you served one cup for each.

The smell was familiar, and you could almost see the snow that engulfed the first two decades of your life falling again all around you.

Then, you took a sip, and you were completely taken aback. Nanami noticed it, and drank the tea too, looking slightly puzzled at his mug.

"It has a different taste" he noted, looking at you. "Was any other ingredient missing?"

You looked at him, then at the mug, then at him again. You were positively sure you followed the exact same recipe you had been making for the past 18 years. It could be the quality of the dried orange slices, but it was unlikely. This was just strange, overall.

Then, you pondered.

"It's not bad, it's just… different."

Indeed, the tea still had no need for added sugars or sweeteners, and had the same everlasting flowery and citrus smell, so characteristic to it.

"Yes. It tastes very good." Nanami replied, taking another sip, contently. "This would go well with some croissants and jam."

You chuckled.

"Yeah, it would."

"So, what happened? Do you have any ideas?" He inquired.

You shrugged.

"I don't know. It just changed, I guess."

"Hm," he finally hummed, looking at you as you began brushing the nape of your hair with your fingers, smiling at yourself, gazing at the cup of tea.

To be loved is to be changed.

—

End notes:

I wrote this in about a 1-1:30h sitting, and I’m so happy at how it turned out.

If you liked it and could spare some time to leave a comment, I’d be very happy. 💜

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami #nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami kento fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu fluff #nanami x you #nanami kento x you #kento x reader

70 notes · View notes

quiznak-ofgrayskull · 1 year ago

Note

Okay!! I"m sorry in advance lol-

So in Voltron (specifically the 2018 reboot which is what I've seen lol) some humans are at a space army academy kind of? And then Stuff happens and they find the blue lion (also Shiro, who I might make Chan but I could also do someone else bc I have other ideas for him too)

So there are five lions that come together to make Voltron power rangers-style. They also have traits associated with them kind of? Mainly the red and black lions tbh

Black lion: The head of Voltron, and the leader

Red lion: Right arm, angry-ish??

Blue lion: Right leg

Yellow lion: Left leg

Green lion: Left arm, technology?? Kind of?? Again Not Really Sure of some of the traits associated lol-

There are also two main alien races, Alteans and Galra. Alteans are fancy elves and Galra are The Bad Guys.

So there's Altean royalty and I'm making Kinn, Khun, and Kim all Altean bc of that. Korn is at least presumed dead (maybe he's actually dead, and we're lucky, honestly don't know where I'm going with this-), and his brother, Gun, leads the Galra despite being Altean (Vegas and Macau's mom would have been Galra, they're hybrids uwu).

So there was a war 10k years ago and all Alteans were wipes out (except for 2 in the actual show, like 4 in this au)

Possibly making Porsche and Porchay part Galra (in the show Keith is, so they wouldn't know about it similar to him), or maybe something with Pete?

There are more characters in Kinnporsche to work with as far as who gets what lion, which makes things difficult for me-

Cause like I could give Chan the black lion but I also have other ideas with him, and him possibly having piloted the black lion in the past? But he also really does fit Shiro's (black lion pilot in vld) vibe (space dad). So I might make it Big because I love him, or do something similar in the show where Shiro goes missing and someone has to take over and make that Big? Idk.

I think I'm probably giving Porsche the blue lion, and I'm almost definitely giving Arm the green lion. Ken will probably get red and I'll probably do a traitor thing then give it to Kim? Or someone else lol idk? Again too many possibilities-

Pete could have yellow but so could Pol, and I'm possibly going to do something else with Pete?

There's a lot of possibilities, and this would probably make a lot more sense if I could explain the lore well.

But like Vegas is a slimy lying Galra (+ Altean) prince who tries to kill them, pretends to be on their side, and betrays them again. I love him dearly. Probably gonna make Ken a traitor for one reason or another (possibly the promise of him being able to go back home). I don't want to kill Big but it might happen anyway. We'll see.

Possibly something with Porsche and Porchay trying to find their parents, who went missing in space at one point.

I could also make some of them difference aliens and such too just need to think about that more.

Main thing is found family (in space) and also I'm a Vegas simp and giving him Lotor's color palette or something similar will not help with that lol. I have a lot to say about this and will probably draw stuff too-

I would say you should watch vld but. Honestly I haven’t in a while I was just obsessed it’s probably not worth it lol. The 1st 2 seasons m a y b e lol

So. There was a post and it was along the lines of "your first fandom and your current fandom, now make a cursed au" and now. We are. Here. Because of course my first fandom was voltron :')

I'm now thinking of a vld au of kinnporsche and it's far too fun for what it is. Help. Were you ever into vld or do I need to also explain lore stuff if I go into detail-

(I know i"m getting Into a fandom when I pump out aus like this so this bodes well for me at least. Everyone else suffers-)

I was never into VLD, but that is probably because I have never seen it. SO please, explain lore to me so I can understand this blursed au.

#My mind is all over the place I probably forgot to cover half of what I was thinking-

5 notes · View notes

fortheloveofwonderland · 1 year ago

Text

Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 8 | S.R

Not my gif

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - You and Spencer have a serious talk about the direction your relationship is heading in. Spencer takes you and Taco out for the day where you bump into two members of his old team who also happen to be on a date.

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.

Warnings - starts off angsty but there’s tons of fluff in this chapter. Mentions of cheating, swearing, making out, Spencer’s insecurities, more dog silliness, slightly awkward introductions, Garvez.

WC - 5.6k

Chapter 8 - Half of My Heart

Half of my heart's got a grip on the situation,

Half of my heart takes time.

Half of my heart's got the right mind to tell you,

That I can't keep loving you,

With half of my heart.

“Y/N,” he swallowed. “What are you doing here?”

He felt like his heart had leapt into his throat at the sight of you on his porch.

You were probably the last person he expected to see here, on his doorstep in the middle of the night.

You hadn’t said a word to him since crushing the very expensive bouquet of flowers so to say he was surprised to find you here was an understatement.

“I don’t know why I came here.” You shrugged, scuffing your toe on the doorstep.

You were dressed in sweats, your hair was a little messy and your face was make-up free as though you’d just rolled out of bed.

The truth was you had. You’d been laying in bed staring at the ceiling and all you could think of was Spencer.

You were angry at him, hurt at the way he’d treated you but for some ungodly reason you missed him.

So you’d found yourself jumping out of bed and into your car and driving out of DC and into the Virginia suburbs just to see his face.

But you didn’t have any idea what you planned on saying when you were actually here, or why you’d come here in the first place.

“Oh.” He chewed on his lip. “Ok?”

“Can I come in?”

Spencer looked over his shoulder briefly before looking back at you. His expression was almost guilty.

“Uh…you see the thing is…”

Your heart dropped and your chest tightened as you stared at him wide eyed.

“Oh gosh,” you gasped, stumbling backwards a little. “You have another woman in there.”

Spencer couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips at the misunderstanding.

“In a way. A little woman. Daisy’s home.” He shrugged.

“Oh.” You exhaled, trying to get your breathing back to normal. “I thought your kids were with their mom this weekend?”

“Lily is. Daisy…there was a thing. It was messy. It resulted in Daisy not wanting to see her mom right now.” He gnawed on his lip. “She’s asleep though, so it’s probably ok if you come in.”

You nodded stiffly and Spencer held the door open for you to enter. He noticed you immediately glancing around the room.

“You painted?” You frowned, and now you were in the light you could see paw prints all over his shirt. “And so did your dog.”

“Yeah. It was time.” He shrugged, leading you over to the couch and wishing he’d thought to change out of his paint covered shirt.

He completely forgot he had the photo album still laid open on the coffee table and he saw your eyes land on it straight away.

You took in the photograph of a much younger Spencer and his pregnant new wife.

“Uh…I don’t even know how to explain that.” Spencer sighed, chewing heavily on his lip. “It’s been a really fucking weird week.”

You glanced up at him as he raked his fingers through his hair.

“You look so young.” You mused.

“I guess I was. It seems like a different lifetime ago now.” He shook his head.

“So does this fucking weird week have any relevance to why you showed up at my apartment drunk out of your mind and acted like a complete asshole?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Kind of.” He shrugged. “I haven’t told you the reason why I got divorced.”

You narrowed your eyes on him, wondering what this had to do with things, but wanted to give him a chance to explain.

“No, you haven’t.”

“My ex-wife, Maeve, was having an affair. For three years.” He spoke stoically. “We never told the kids why we broke up, it seemed better if they didn’t know. But Daisy found out and I got angry and I tend to drink when I’m angry. And that’s how I ended up at your apartment, drunk out of my mind and acting like a complete asshole.”

“Three years? Shit.” You rolled fur lip between your teeth. “That’s fucked up.”

“Yeah.” Spencer leaned forward and closed the photo album that seemed to be taunting him. “I wasn’t pining or anything. That’s not what this was about. I just…I don’t know. I needed to remember when things were good. Because things feel as though they haven’t been good in a really long time. Not at least until I met you.”

“You were a jerk.”

“I was. It was totally inexcusable for me to act the way I did. When it comes to my ex and my kids, I can get a little crazy.”

“I can tell.” You softened a little. “It doesn’t make up for how you treated me.”

“No, it doesn’t. I can sit here and say I’m sorry until I’m blue in the face, Y/N. I am sorry, if I could take it back I would. The last thing I ever wanted to do was make you think I only wanted you for sex because that’s not true. At least I don’t think it is.

Honestly I don’t know what I expected between us. I wasn’t looking to meet someone or start anything. I was just trying to get through life one day at a time and keep my head above water. Dating was the last thing on my mind.

But then, there you were. You just showed up in my life and made me believe I could be happy again. And I went and fucked that up by getting drunk.

I’m a mess ok? I can’t promise I’m not going to get wound up by something my ex-wife does and drink through the anger again. My life is a fucking disaster, quite frankly. And I’d understand if you didn’t want to get involved in the tsunami of my life, I get it. It’s a lot to ask of anyone. I have baggage and sometimes it’s too much for me to carry alone so I drink or I shut myself off from the world.

There are a million reasons for you to walk away. And I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I just hope that maybe you see something in me worth staying for.”

Spencer inhaled deeply after his long, sprawling rant.

He’d been sitting on the words all week, desperate for you to hear them. And now he had you in front of him he had to get them out before you left again.

You needed to know the full story, everything you were getting yourself into if in fact you wanted to get into it with him.

He needed to lay all his cards on the table and hope to god it wouldn’t completely terrify you.

You listened intently and took in every one of his words, sitting and swirling them around your brain for a few moments.

Spencer chewed erratically on his lip while he waited for you to respond.

When you did, your words took him a little by surprise.

“Look Spencer, I need to know, do you still have feelings for your ex? Because I don’t want to get in over my head for a man who’s hung up on somebody else.” You folded your arms across your chest in a way of creating a barrier between the two of you.

Spencer glanced back at the closed photo album, biting on the inside of his cheek.

“The truth is, I don’t know.” He looked back at you, tears glistening behind his eyes. “We got married before we had the chance to know each other. I always told myself that I loved her, sure, but I was never in love with her. I focused on my girls after she left, only letting myself think about what her leaving did to them. I told everyone I was fine because it was just a marriage of convenience.

No one thought we were going to last, myself included. My father walked out on me and my mom when I was ten. My mentor who hand picked me for the BAU left me with a note. People leave me. It’s a pattern. I guess I always thought she’d do the same. So I tell myself I don’t care and that I’m fine but really…I honestly don’t know how I feel.”

You appreciated his honesty. You were surprised by it and so was Spencer.

He wasn’t comfortable being so raw, so vulnerable. It made him feel exposed, as though his chest had been cut open and you were staring at his insides, watching the physical beat of his heart in his chest.

You shifted a little on the couch, unfolding your arms again so you could play with your hands in your lap.

“I uh…thanks I guess. For telling me the truth.” Your voice cracked a little.

Spencer moved closer to you, taking you by surprise. His large hands found your face and cupped your cheeks.

You felt yourself melt into his hold. Spencer’s skin on yours had a habit of doing that.

“I don’t know how I feel about my ex. But I do know how I feel about you.” He looked at you intensely, almost as though he was staring into your soul. “I never felt…when I first saw you…” he trailed off with a chuckle.

“Cat got your tongue, Doctor?” You smiled a little against his warm hands, feeling your previous anger towards him slowly dissipating.

“I have an IQ of one hundred and eighty seven but I swear when I look in your eyes it renders me dumb.” He exhaled to try and get his brain working. “I am infatuated by you. I have been since the first moment I laid eyes on you. I saw you that day on campus and I swear to god Y/N the whole world stopped turning for me. I have never in my life felt such a magnetic force pulling me towards someone.

There is something about you that just…it’s like my heart just stopped beating when my ex left and you were like the jolt of electricity that brought me back from the dead. I started to breathe again the moment I looked into your eyes. It’s like I’ve been sleepwalking through most of my life and now I’m wide awake and I…I…I am infatuated by you. Truly and utterly infatuated. So no, I don’t know how I feel about my ex but I damn sure know how I feel about you.”

His words had caused tears to well in your eyes. It was the most open he’d been with you, it was the most open he’d been with anyone in a long time.

Did it make you a complete idiot that you were falling for this? He’d admitted he didn’t know how he felt about his ex-wife, what if he realised somewhere down the line that he was still in love with her? What would that mean for you?

It was probably easier to walk away now. At least it should have been. But despite yourself you were already in too deep. Your feelings for Spencer had manifested at lightning speed and you were already hooked on him.

Chances were this would end in disaster. But wouldn’t it just be the most beautiful disaster?

“I’m not looking for a fling, Spencer. I’m not looking to just be a bit on the side while you resolve your feelings towards your ex. I’m not after something casual. And if you can only give me casual then I think it’s best if we-“ you were cut off suddenly when Spencer’s lips crashed against your own.

You whined a little, your lips parting and his tongue took the initiative to glide into your mouth.

He laid you back on the couch and held your face while he kissed you with bruising force. The passion laced in that kiss set your body aflame.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him close. He explored your mouth with a combination of desperation and intrigue.

The weight of his body pressed you into the couch and you felt him growing hard almost immediately. He rolled his hips against yours and you moaned against his lips.

You moved one hand down his chest towards his crotch and started stroking him through his pants.

He bucked against you, moaning into your mouth.

“Fuck.” He panted. “Fuck, we can’t.”

Reluctantly Spencer tore himself away from you, a part of his brain screaming at him to kiss you again.

He pulled himself off you and sat up, trying to ignore the throbbing in his pants.

“My daughters upstairs. I don’t want…I don’t want to be the dad that has sex while his daughter is right upstairs.” He put his head in his hands. “And also, it doesn’t exactly help my case of showing you I want something more if I try to get you into bed at every available opportunity.”

And as turned on and as frustrating as it was, your heart melted.

“Spence?” You whispered, shuffling closer to him and stroking the back of his neck.

“Hmm?” He uncovered his face again and looked at you.

“You’re an amazing father.” You placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you.” He choked a little.

“So this isn’t just a fling?” You nervously chewed your bottom lip, needing to hear him say it.

He leant forward and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You could never be just a fling. I can’t promise you forever Y/N because I can’t even promise myself that. The only long term relationship I’ve ever had was with Maeve and that ended so terribly that I am terrified of letting myself be vulnerable again. But I want to try. And I can promise you I will give you my all. I will give you every piece of my heart that is still mine to give. But you have to understand that my heart isn’t necessarily whole anymore, but I want you to have all the shards that I still have.” His eyes filled with tears again.

“Ok.” You nodded with a small smile.

“Ok?” He frowned.

“Ok, I might consider letting you take me out again.”

“How about tomorrow?” The tears in his eyes seemed to vanish only to be replaced with a sparkle.

“I thought you had your daughter this weekend?”

“Me and my friend Jennifer were supposed to be taking the kids to the park tomorrow but she owes me a favour.”

“What are you suggesting, Doctor?”

“JJ and her husband can handle the three kids. And the dog. Tomorrow I want to take you out.”

“You really don’t have to.” You shook your head. “I don’t ever want to get in the way of you spending time with your kids.”

“I spend all my time with my kids.” He chuckled. “One Sunday isn’t the end of the world. And besides, with Daisy so angry at her mom I have no idea when I’ll have a free weekend again.”

“I have one stipulation.” You cocked a playful eyebrow.

“What’s that?” Spencer frowned a little.

“Bring the dog. I love dogs.” You smirked.

“Trust me, you won’t love this one.” Spencer laughed.

“Not the way you do, no.” You giggled, standing up from the couch. “But bring the dog.”

“You will regret that.” Spencer stood too and walked you towards the door.

“We’ll see.” You opened the door and hovered in the entrance way. “So, tomorrow?”

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.” Spencer leaned in and kissed you softly again.

But soft quickly turned passionate and he had to forcibly pull back before he got carried away.

“Goodnight, Doctor.” You laughed as you stepped onto the porch.

“Goodnight, Angel.” He smiled dopily as he watched you leave.

Daisy hid out of sight in the corridor, peeping through the crack in the living room door. She cradled Taco with her good arm.

She watched her dad close the door and lean back against it, a smile on his face bigger than any she’d seen on him for a while.

She didn’t need to read micro expressions to know her dad was actually happy.

It made Daisy smile too. She loved her dad and wanted him to be happy and she was smart enough to know he hadn’t really been happy since her mom left.

When Spencer moved away from the door and started shutting off the lights, she quickly and quietly scampered back upstairs and into bed before her dad realised she’d been spying on him.

She got curled up under her duvet with Taco under her arm just moments before the door reopened a crack and Spencer stuck his head inside.

She kept her eyes screwed tightly shut as her dad hovered in the doorway. After a few moments she heard him whisper, “sweet dreams, pumpkin. I love you.” And then the door closed again.

She opened her eyes and snuggled closer to the scruffy mutt.

“I love you too dad.” She whispered into the dark.

***

JJ was more than happy for Spencer to skip their park day and take Daisy with them, especially when she found out why.

Spencer however had a slight crisis of faith about the whole thing.

“Does it make me a terrible dad for palming off my daughter on you so I can spend time with a woman?” He fretted.

“Spence, you couldn’t be a terrible dad if you tried. It’s hard enough being a parent when there’s two of you. Being on your own and dating…you do what you have to do.” JJ tried to reassure him.

“I just…I don’t want to be like my dad.”

“Spencer,” JJ gripped his shoulder. “Your dad walked out on you. He just got up and left. You are having one day off, which rightfully should have been your day off anyway because Daisy was supposed to be with Maeve. You are absolutely nothing like your dad. Please stop worrying. Focus on Y/N. I’ve got this.”

God he didn’t know what he would do without JJ’s words of wisdom sometimes.

Still feeling a little guilty, he kissed his daughter goodbye and hopped in his car, along with Taco, and drove to Folger Park where the two of you were meeting.

He was a little late thanks to his crisis and you were waiting on a bench with coffees.

You lit up when you saw him approaching but it turned to a frown when you saw the hairy creature trailing behind him on a leash.

“That’s a dog?” You stared at it.

“I’m starting to become unsure of that myself.” He wrapped his free hand around you, cupping your lower back and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“He looks like a Gremlin.” You crouched down to inspect him better.

“I thought about getting him groomed but I’m scared of what I might find under there.”

“He’s got a cute little face. His ears are too long.” You giggled, patting the mutt on the head.

Taco responded by giving you a happy little bark and then attacking your face with his tongue.

“He likes you. I think. I don’t know, I haven't figured him out yet.”

“I think he likes me. Do you like me, Taco?” You continued to fuss him and he kept licking you.

“Ok, ok, that’s enough. I’m the only one that gets to use tongue with her.” Spencer tugged the dog away from you before lifting him up and sitting down on the bench with Taco in his lap.

“Are you jealous, Doctor?” You sat next to him, handing him one of the coffees.

“Of a mangy dog? Hardly.” Spencer scoffed.

“You’re going to give him a complex if you keep talking about him like that.”

“It’s a good job he can’t understand a word I’m saying then.” Spencer chuckled.

“You like the dog.” You smiled in amusement.

“I do not. Stop saying that.” Spencer grumbled.

“The dog certainly likes you.”

“As he should, I saved him from near death.”

“You like the dog.” You laughed to yourself, sipping your coffee.

“Please can we stop focusing on the dog? Just pretend he isn’t here.”

“Maybe we should walk him.”

“As long as we don’t talk about him, I’m fine with that.” Spencer set Taco back on the ground and the two of you stood up.

You strolled through the park sipping coffee and basking in the pleasantly warm weather. Spring was approaching and flowers were starting to blossom, the smell of the pollen in the air. Trees were regrowing their leaves, lining the path you walked in a welcome shade.

Taco stopped to sniff every flower they passed and got skittish when other dogs tried to greet him.

Spencer lost count of the amount of times he had to tell dog owners, “he’s nervous. I think. He’s weird.”

You chatted between yourself comfortably when Taco wasn’t demanding attention. Once the coffees were finished and disposed of you continued to walk.

Spencer rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows as the sun's warmth started to beat down on him.

At one point your hands brushed against each other’s and it made Spencer jump a little although he wasn’t sure why. It was like static electricity had passed between you. One that sent shocks right to his heart.

When it happened a second time he took it as a sign and without looking to see your reaction, he threaded his fingers in yours.

You glanced over at him with a smile and held his hand tightly.

“Is it weird to say that this feels…normal?” Spencer asked as you walked.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just…I don’t feel as though I’ve felt normal in a long time. Maybe ever in fact. But this, walking with you, hand in hand, even the dog…it just feels normal.” He shrugged.

“I’m glad.” You felt a small blush creep to your cheeks. “And it’s not weird. It does feel…normal.”

“And then we remember I have an ex-wife and two kids and really, this is far from normal?”

“Maybe.” You nodded. “Maybe it’s not normal. But it at least feels good.”

“It certainly does.” He gave your hand a squeeze. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I read about this place nearby called Barkhaus, it’s a bar-restaurant that welcomes dogs off leash, they even have an outdoor seating area with a fenced off dog park next to it. Seeing as we're hungry and you love dogs and I have a dog…”

“You love that freaking dog!” You giggled. “You researched places to take him!”

“I researched places to take you. And they had to accommodate dogs because you insisted I bring him.” He shook his head with a laugh.

“You are truly obsessed with this dog, you just don’t realise it yet. But yes, Barkhaus sounds perfect.”

“I will kick this dog in the face if it will prove to you I don’t like it.”

“You would not.” You rolled your eyes.

“No, you’re right I wouldn’t.” He laughed, tugging the leash in the new direction they were heading. “Come on Taco, let’s go make you some friends.”

***

The restaurant was only a few blocks away so the two of you continued your walk and left Spencer’s car near the park.

Barkhaus was an old industrial building and was very contemporarily decorated, with exposed brick walls and pipes decorating the ceiling. One wall was entirely covered in fake grass.

You got a table on the patio and Spencer coaxed Taco in the fenced off area where a couple of other much bigger, much more dog-looking dogs, were already playing.

The area had some wooden hurdles which the bigger dogs were having no trouble with but Taco was so small he just walked right under them.

The other dogs were curious about Taco, rightly so. They followed him around, sniffing him and watching his every move.

Taco didn’t seem like he much enjoyed the attention but Spencer hoped he’d ease into it. He really didn’t want to spend his afternoon worrying about the dog when he had more important things to focus on.

But he couldn’t help but be utterly fascinated by his stupid dog.

After a little while he heard you laugh and snapped his eyes away from Taco to see you watching him in amusement.

“You love that dog.” You giggled, picking up your menu as Spencer glared at you.

“I find him interesting.” He rolled his eyes, picking up his own menu. “I do not like him.”

“Hmm, sure.” You didn’t look up from the menu but he saw the smile on your lips.

You both ordered burgers and milkshakes while you watched Taco start to loosen up around the other dogs. It didn’t take long for him to start looking as though he was actually having a good time.

Spencer had moved his chair next to yours and slung his arm around your shoulders. You leant in close to him and threaded the fingers of his free hand with yours.

It felt natural. It was calming to have Spencer so close while you were wrapped in his protective hold, watching the strange creature grow accustomed to other dogs.

You sat like this until your food was brought over and you ate in companionable silence, Spencer glancing over his shoulder to check on Taco every few minutes.

Once you’d eaten, he sat back in his chair and sipped on his milkshake.

“So how would you feel about a weekend away?” He mused out loud.

“With you or in general?” You teased.

“Preferably with me.” He laughed around his straw. “My friend Rossi has a cabin near Lake Anna. It’s supposed to be incredibly romantic and I wondered if you might like to go with me?”

You felt yourself blushing and distracted yourself by taking a sip of your milkshake.

“What about Daisy? I thought she wasn’t keen on going to her moms right now?”

“Where there’s a will there’s a way.” He shrugged. “I’ll talk to her. She’s going to have to see her mom at some point. But if I can convince her to go…”

“I would love a weekend away with you.” You smiled brightly as Spencer reached across the table and took hold of your hand.

“Perfect. Great. I’ll call Rossi tomorrow and-”

“Reid?” A voice cut him off and he didn’t need to turn around to know who it belonged to.

He sighed, letting go of your hand and slowly turning, expecting to just see the person the voice belonged to but there were two people standing a few feet away, one of whom was holding a dog leash.

“OMGEE is it boy wonder!” Garcia screeched a little and was suddenly launching herself towards him while the voice he’d heard, belonging to Luke Alvez, hung back with Roxy.

Spencer pushed himself to his feet just in time to be swallowed in a bear hug by the bubbly tech analyst.

“What are you doing here?” She jiggled him a little before letting him go and her eyes landed on you. “Oh my gosh! Don’t tell me this is Y/N!”

You shyly stood and offered a small wave but then you too found yourself engulfed by the colourful woman’s arms.

“Uh…hi.” You giggled, wrapping your arms around the strangers neck in response.

“Spencer did not mention how utterly beautiful you are!” Garcia let you go but not before first squeezing your cheeks.

“Uh…I didn’t know Spencer had mentioned me at all.” You blushed a little, sidling up to him and he instinctively put a protective arm around you.

“Y/N, this is Penelope Garcia and Luke Alvez. I worked with them at the BAU.” Spencer offered up the introductions.

“And this is Roxy.” Luke pointed at his dog.

“She’s beautiful.” She smiled bashfully, sinking into Spencer’s hold.

“Thanks.” Luke smiled back at you. “I forgot you got a dog. This is the last place I expected to see you.”

“Yeah, he’s over there being weird or something.” Spencer motioned over his shoulder. “Are you two uh…”

“On a date.” Luke beamed brightly. “Yeah.”

“Oh wow, that’s great. I had no idea.”

“It’s early days.” Garcia nudged Luke’s shoulder with her own.

“We uh…haven’t told the team yet.” Luke added.

“My lips are sealed.” Spencer nodded in understanding. “Do you uh…want to join us? We’ve already eaten but we’re not in a rush, right?”

He glanced down at you and you looked back up at him and nodded.

For all your confidence, meeting Spencer’s friends had thrown you through a loop.

“Yeah sure, that would be great.” Luke agreed for both of them.

Spencer placed a gentle kiss on your forehead and let you go so he could procure two more chairs while you and Garcia slotted into the ones already at the table.

Luke deposited Roxy in the fenced off area and as if sensing Taco was Spencer’s dog, she padded right over to him.

And Taco didn’t shy away. He seemed to take an instant liking to Roxy which went against everything Spencer knew about his dog.

“Wow, look at him making friends.” you laughed a little, shuffling your chair closer to Spencer’s as you felt Penelope and Luke’s eyes on you.

“Roxy has a calm about her. People and dogs seem to pick up on her energy.” Luke smiled at you.

“I don’t want to talk about dogs.” Garcia leant forward on the table and you half thought she might lunge at you across it. “How did you meet our Mighty Professor?”

You looked from the brightly coloured blonde to Spencer as if you needed some kind of push.

He smiled at you in such a loving way, it helped in calming your nerves. His hand moved under the table and gently cupped your knee which helped even more.

“It was on my first day at Georgetown. I’m a TA and I got lost on my first day. Spencer showed me where I needed to go.” You felt him squeeze your knee encouragingly under the table.

“Like a knight in shining armour.” Garcia fawned.

“She wasn’t a damsel in distress, Garcia. I simply showed her the way to the psychology building.” Spencer chuckled at his friends over enthusiastic nature.

“Don’t downplay yourself, Reid.” She scolded him slightly.

“Yeah, don’t downplay yourself.” You giggled giving him a sideways glance.

“Have you met his kids?” Luke asked now.

“Oh no,” you shook your head. “We’ve only just started dating.”

Spencer swallowed, shrinking down in his chair a little but no one seemed to notice.

He hadn’t even considered that. He hadn’t thought that dating someone would eventually lead to them meeting his girls.

After the way Maeve had hurt them, he wasn’t exactly keen on letting another woman close to his daughters.

“They’re the cutest! You will adore them!” Garcia squealed a little, getting animated as she started talking about her nieces.

You glanced at Spencer who looked suddenly pale. His body was a little stiff and his hand on your knee had gone limp.

It was obvious only to you why that was.

He didn’t join in the conversation much after that and left you to be grilled by Garcia and Luke.

Eventually sensing they probably wanted to eat and enjoy their date and realising he needed to get back for Daisy, Spencer drew their lunch to a close.

After collecting Taco from where he was playing with Roxy, the three of you walked back to Spencer’s car in stilted silence.

You knew exactly why he was acting this way but you had no idea how to broach the subject.

When you reached his car and you both slipped inside, Taco settling onto your lap in the passenger's seat, you finally decided to say something.

“You know I’m not expecting to meet your kids right?” You spoke up as he was jabbing the key in the ignition.

He exhaled loudly and slowly turned to look at you.

“I never even thought about it.” He frowned. “This whole thing with you happened so suddenly that I never considered that dating meant the possibility of someone being introduced to my girls one day. And if I’m being perfectly honest with you, that scares me more than anything.”

You smiled sympathetically at him and reached out to take hold of his hand that was clutched around the steering wheel.

“Spence, we’ve just started dating, neither of us is ready to get your kids involved in our relationship. We just have to take things a step at a time. Day by day. But I guess one day, if things were to get serious then I would probably have to meet them. But that’s a bridge we cross if and when we come to it, ok?” You brushed your thumb over his knuckles to try and sooth him.

He nodded briskly but he was still frowning slightly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess. I’m sorry, this is just all so new to me. Dating and being a dad, you know?” He exhaled again.

“It's new to me too, I’ve never dated someone with kids before.” You chuckled, bringing his hand to your lips so you could lightly kiss his knuckles. “We’ll puzzle it out together, ok? But in the meantime, I remember there being talks of a weekend away?”

A bright smile suddenly broke out on his features, reaching up to his eyes.

“I’ll speak to Rossi tomorrow.” He returned the favour and kissed the back of your hand too before surprising everyone when he patted Taco’s head completely unprovoked.

“Sounds good.” you agreed as he let go of your hand and started the engine.

As he pulled away, you saw him glance at the dog a few times before speaking again.

“But the dog stays home. He’s a real mood killer.”

You couldn’t help but laugh and muss the dog’s scruffy head.

“Whatever you say, Doctor. Whatever you say.”

@andiebeaword @muffin-cup @takeyourleap-of-faith @dirtytissuebox @ssa-uglywhore27 @foxy-eva @kbakery @chrissyflo3 @simxican @aysixdy @givemeth @its-yagirl-raelynn @loonalockley

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

202 notes · View notes

miasmaghoul · 2 years ago

Note

Miasmaaaaaaaa my uterus is trying to kill meeeeeee

Any chance you have anything related to Dew taking care of a fellow ghoul to cheer me up??

Fucking love you by the way, thanks for being absolutely amazing ❤️

I fucking love YOU, random citizen! Apologies about the uterus, don't let that bastard win!

Sickfic ahoy! I really can't write short shit!

Dew stands at the foot of Rain's bed with his arms crossed, brow creased. He stares at a mountain of blankets on the mattress.

"You in there somewhere, Rain?"

There's a weak groan of acknowledgement and Dew spies a pair of long, pale fingers poking feebly between the layers. Rain had been absent all morning and Dewdrop had taken it upon himself to fetch the water ghoul - they were due to work in the chapel together today anyway, he figured he might as well make the sacrifice of his comfy spot on his couch.

"Dew?" Rain's voice is heavy, thick.

"Yeah." Dew wanders over to the side of the bed, standing on his tiptoes in search of Rain's face. He can't find it, the water ghoul completely covered save those two fingers. "You still asleep? You missed breakfast. Me and Swiss ate your pancakes." Dew prods at the heap and Rain groans.

"No." Dew sees the pile shift as Rain pulls his hand back, the whole mess shuddering. "No sleep. Dead." Dew snorts, sitting on the side of the bed. He pokes at a gap in the blankets and worms his hand into it, searching.

"Dibs on your shit then," Dew teases, digging deeper, searching for skin. Rain is very clearly not dead. He probably just hadn't slept and was being dramatic about it. The water ghoul is notorious for being grumpy without his beauty sleep. "C'mon, get your lazy ass up."

Rain starts to speak but it turns into a sudden, violent coughing fit instead and Dew startles, hopping off the bed with a concerned frown. It sounds bad and he says as much, a pained whimper emanating from the mound of bedding once the hacking quiets down. Okay, Rain's not dead, but clearly also not doing well.

"You sick?" It's not a real question, and Rain doesn't respond. The blankets start to shake and Dew's frown deepens. He leans over, feeling around for Rain's long limbs, working through the layers until he finds the outline of a bony arm. Rain is shivering violently, and even through the bedclothes Dew can feel him radiating a heat to rival his own. "Shit, you're almost as hot as me."

Rain tries to say something but the coughing takes hold again, and a little tangle of panic starts to form in Dew's gut. Low-level and itchy, like the feeling of being away from home and suddenly realizing you forgot to lock the door behind you. He takes a deep breath, then another, making soft shushing sounds and rubbing Rain's arm. This is very much not his area of expertise, and in the back of his mind he's trying to remember what Mountain did when Swiss was sick a few months ago. He doesn't get very far, distracted by Rain's wracking shivers.

Then he remembers, and has to roll his eyes for being so dense.

Dew moves once Rain's labored breathing evens out, leaving his hand in place on Rain's arm while he pulls out his phone and fires off a quick one-handed text to Aether.

D: wet boy sick come help

Their resident healer is currently on kitchen duty and Dew knows it, but the fire ghoul feels far too out of his element to deal with this alone. Aether will come when he can and he knows it. He swallows hard as he tucks the device away, focusing back on the situation at hand.

"Rain? Can you hear me?" There's a pathetic little squeak from the depths of the blanket pile. "I gotta take these off you. You're too warm."

"Nooo," Rain half-sobs, sniffling and curling deeper into his cocoon. "'m freezing, y-you can't take 'em."

The more Rain speaks the worse he sounds. His nose is stuffed, his throat raw, his chest rattling with every strained breath. Dew huffs through his nose and gives Rain's arm a reassuring squeeze.

"Sorry fishstick, not letting you cook yourself today."

Dew yanks back the blankets one by one, and Rain doesn't have the strength to do more than bat at his arm with a tired hand. He whines with each motion, Dewdrop having no choice but to shift his dead-weight limbs in order to unwrap the burrito Rain has made of himself.

"Dew, please," Rain whimpers, "too cold, too cold-"

"I'm workin' on it raincloud, I'm workin' on it," Dew murmurs, finally getting the blankets unwound from around Rain's shoulders. One last tug and Dew can finally see his face - he's pale as the ivory sheets beneath them, seafoam eyes sunken and heavy-lidded. His lips are chapped, mouth turned down at the corners. Dew's frown deepens as he rests his palm on Rain's forehead. "Fuck, you're really burning up."

Rain looks up at him with sad eyes and Dew feels something foreign in his chest ache. He finds himself staring at the water ghoul, grazing a thumb over his scalding cheek and gently dragging his fingers through Rain's sweat-damp hair. Rain's eyes drift shut and Dewdrop lets out a shaky exhale.

"Lemme see what I can do until Aeth gets here, ok?"

Rain groans, cracking one eye open. Dewdrop gives him a crooked little smile and Rain sighs, nodding. He hisses almost immediately.

"Ugh, my fuckin' head," he mumbles, "feels like it's gonna explode, shit."

"I'm gonna get you some water," Dew says, leaning down to press a quick kiss to Rain's roasting forehead before he realizes what he's doing. "I, uh," he stands and Rain whines, curling in on himself and shaking like a leaf, "I dunno if it'll help, but it can't hurt."

"So cold," Rain breathes, like he hadn't even heard Dew, "where's my blankets?" He paws weakly at the bed for a moment before giving up with a sad little sound, drawing his knees to his chest and tucking them under his shirt. He looks so...small. The ache in Dew's chest presses against his ribs.

Dew moves quickly in the bathroom, filling a paper cup with water and dampening a washcloth. He doesn't know if Rain will allow the cold against his skin, but the water ghoul will surely boil away to nothing if he doesn't try. He's back at Rain's side in no time, the ghoul having drifted into that sick kind of sleep that feels impossibly deep. Dew lays the washcloth between Rain's horns and the water ghoul shakes awake with a tight yelp.

"C-cold!" Dew catches Rain's wrist before he can tug the cloth off, laying his arm on the mattress.

"Leave it," he says, bringing the cup to Rain's mouth, "it'll help, I'm pretty sure. Drink some of this, c'mon, you sound like Swiss that one time he chugged vinegar."

Rain tries to wheeze out a laugh, but it just results in a sharp wince. Dew helps support his head as he helps Rain drink, slow sips. Rain flinches with every swallow, but he drinks it all, offering a soft sigh when he's done.

"Need more?"

Dew's frown returns as Rain shakes his head and swallows, licking his lips. He's shivering harder than ever now, muscles jerking wildly. "You're way too fuckin' hot, Rainy." Dew tosses the cup in the trash and pulls out his phone again. Aether hasn't responded. Shit. He has an idea, he just doesn't know if it'll help or harm. He doesn't particularly want to poach Rain like a salmon.

D: hurry if u can, bad fever i think

Rain makes a sound of utter misery and Dew moves automatically to the other side of the bed. He tugs away some of the mass of blankets and dumps them on the floor, making a hole behind Rain and sliding onto the bed as smoothly as he can. Trying not to jostle the water ghoul as he takes off his shirt and slots himself against his spine.

"Gonna try something," he says quietly into the suffering ghoul's ear, "I dunno if it'll work but I gotta try. Aeth should be here soon. Okay?"

Rain shudders and grunts, but after a moment manages to nod. Dew pulls the now-warm washcloth from Rain's head and tosses it away, replacing it with his hand. The water ghoul's eyes slip shut as Dew's other arm wraps around his waist, sliding under his shirt, palm coming to rest in the center of Rain's chest. He coughs again and Dew rests his forehead at the back of Rain's neck.

"Tell me if it hurts or anything."

Dewdrop is not a quintessence ghoul. He can't resonate with another ghoul's body and pick out what's hurt. He can't slide into Rain's core and sap away his fever like Aether can. But his fire isn't without its own benefits.

Dew closes his eyes and reaches into the heat beneath Rain's skin, feeling the way it pulses through his veins. It's a sick heat, thick like a too-humid summer day. Dew breathes deep and focuses, pushing his own brand of warmth into Rain's feverish flesh. It's a comforting heat, a muted fire on a winter morning, and it floods into Rain's entire being in comforting waves.

It's a risk, raising Rain's temperature, but ghouls are resilient, and when Rain relaxes in his arms Dew knows it was worthwhile. Rain's shivers die down bit by bit, and soon enough he's still. He's stretched his legs out and Dew has tangled them with his own, distributing his heat more evenly. Rain is breathing a bit more steadily now too, and Dew sighs as he adjusts his own temperature. Rain leans back against him.

"Thank you," he croaks, desert dry, "better."

"Shh," Dew says, pressing another soft kiss into Rain's sweaty hair without a second thought, "don't talk or anything, you need to rest. Hopefully Aether gets here quick."

Rain sighs and nods, bringing a heavy hand to rest over Dew's on his chest. Dew hums against his skin, soothing. It's something Aether does for him when he can't sleep, and it seems to help Rain too. He slackens in Dew's arms, breaths going gentle if rattling, but it's something at least. Dew lets his own eyes fall shut, drifting on the thud of Rain's heart against his callused fingertips.

That's how Aether finds them an hour or so later, skidding into the bedroom with his phone still in his hand, Dew's messages on display. They both snore, Rain louder than Dew, congested, as Aether catches his breath. He can't help but smile at the sight. Seeing Dew so obviously caring is a rare thing.

He'll pull Rain's fever away in a few minutes, but first he has to capture the moment on his phone. A beautiful memory for his eyes only. Dew would throttle him if he ever found it. Aether thinks it's worth the risk.

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlet #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #sickfic #magical fuckery

208 notes · View notes

alittlextrathatway · 11 months ago

Note

Line: "Show me the places where the others gave you scars." Location: CFD Christmas party.

Alright 5th and final part of the Firehouse 40 AU.

You can find the rest here: part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

***

It’s been a while since Matt had an official date to a CFD function. The last time was with Gabby, right before that relationship completely fell apart.

Gabby’s moved on — in her personal life and her career — and so has he, but he forgot how much of a fishbowl the CFD can be. Especially, when a guy walks into a room with Sylvie Brett on his arm. Sylvie Brett in her duty uniform is appealing enough, but Sylvie all dressed up for a holiday party? She’s bound to draw a few slack jawed stares.

When he picked her up, he nearly had a heart attack at the first glimpse of her form fitting holiday red dress. It was low cut, with a neckline that reminded him if the top half of a heart, and thin straps framing her sternum. The way it emphasized her neck and collar bone left him with the urge to lean down and bite the graceful swanlike line her features seemed to draw. The fact that he’s managed to keep that whim to himself is a testament to his self control.

She’s gorgeous to him all the time though, even when returning from a call drenched in unknown substances. The image of her crawling out of the back of 61, just over 24 hours ago, covered in a poor kid’s vomit is fresh in his mind. Her first shift as PIC on 61 didn’t quite go the way she hoped, but she bore it like the consummate professional she’s always been.

That level of proficiency is sexy as hell to him. She faces the ugly stuff head on and never flinches or compromises in her empathy. She’s not only gorgeous on the outside, but the inside too. However, he recognizes he could potentially be biased. It comes from knowing her heart as well as he does, and from being fortunate enough to have spent the last two months sharing space with her at one residence or another.

So, he assumes most of the people in the room are staring because she makes such a striking picture, even when compared to all the festive Christmas decorations that surround them. It’s not until Sylvie quickly directs her gaze down at the floor and squeezes his hand in a vice-like grip that he realizes anything’s wrong.

“Everything okay?” He asks.

“Um, yes, but I need you to keep standing there, blocking me from view for the moment, and I also need to tell you something I probably should have mentioned by now.” When she looks up at him again, her face is pinched and her eyes are apologetic.

“Okay,” he says, bracing himself for a deep dark secret. Something that might flip the last couple of months on their head.

“You know the CFD Chaplain we’ve had for the last few years?”

“Yeah, Sheffield, right?”

She nods. “That’s him.”

“What about him?”

“Well, uh, we were briefly engaged a few years ago.”

Matt has no idea what to do with that information. “How briefly?”

“Just a month or so — until he suggested I should think about quitting my job once we got married and then I very quickly realized it was never going to work,” she confesses. “I should’ve said something sooner but I just — I mean how do you bring up a failed engagement in casual conversation?”

She bites her bottom lip and stares at him with wary expectant eyes as if she thinks he might blow up at her at any moment.

“Sorry I sprung that on you,” she whispers, her eyes leaving his and widening slightly. “But he’s headed this way and more than a few people in this room know I jilted him so we’re for sure gonna have an audience.”

He wants to tell her not to worry. He has no room to be critical of botched engagements or trying to make it work with someone who simply isn’t the right fit. His entire romantic history is full of those exact same things.

“Sylvie,” the Chaplain greets as he joins them.

“Kyle, hi,” she says with a too bright false smile. “Have you met Matt Casey? He’s a captain over at 51.”

“Your new house,” Kyle states with a nod, turning to offer his hand to Matt. “We’ve met a few times over the years. Haven’t we, Casey?”

“We have, yes,” Matt replies, suddenly remembering a conversation with Sheffield about where to take his new fiancée for her birthday dinner. Matt had given him a couple of suggestions but never followed up on whether or not he had taken them. In light of what Sylvie just revealed to him, he realizes she must have been the fiancée. “Been a while since you dropped in on 51 though.”

And now Matt understands why.

“You’re right. I promise I’ll work on correcting that soon.”

Yeah, he bets he will based on the moon eyes the Chaplain keeps throwing at Sylvie. For her part, Sylvie definitely isn’t returning them. She looks antsy and uncomfortable. Matt tries to imagine running into Gabby tonight and has to rein in a wince. Sylvie doesn’t know about Gabby. He imagines it would be just as awkward as this moment with the chaplain.

“Well, if you’ll excuse us,” Matt says, pointedly threading his fingers through Sylvie’s. “Our chief and his wife are right over there, and Sylvie hasn’t had the chance to meet his wife yet. I don’t want her to miss her window.”

“Oh, right, of course,” Kyle says, stepping aside. “We can all catch up later.”

“Sure,” Sylvie agrees, still holding her blatantly forced smile. “We should definitely do that.”

Like hell they will. He doesn’t care that this man once had a relationship with Sylvie, but he does care about Sylvie’s unease. If she doesn’t want to be around Kyle, then she won’t have to be.

He leads her away from the chaplain, but stops just short of Boden and Donna.

“I am so sorry, Matt,” she immediately begins to ramble. Her nerves exploding to the surface as she talks. “I should have told you, I know, and I’m sure you’re furious with me but I swear I wasn’t trying to hide it. I—“ She cuts herself off when she realizes he’s smiling at her with with warmth and amusement. “Wait, you aren’t mad at me at all, are you?”

“No,” he states, chuckling slightly. “In the grand scheme of things, we haven’t known each other that long. There’s no timetable and learning things about each other.”

“Oh,” she says, blinking owlishly at him. “Okay.”

“And in the interest of full disclosure, you’re not the only one with a failed engagement under their belt,” he reveals, blushing slightly. “Personally, I have two.”

She gasps, eyes bright and full of mirth. “No way. You too?”

Her incredulity cancels out any shock he might have experienced from her news and he finds himself laughing at her. “Sheffield was fiancé number two?”

She nods. When talking about the chaplain she looked more embarrassed than haunted, but this first fiancé was clearly different. Worse. “The first one is why I came to Chicago. At some point I realized I was living his life, not mine. So, I left.”

There’s more to the story than that, he can tell. But she can have her secrets. She’ll tell him when she’s ready. After all, he’s yet to tell her about Hallie. If anything now he knows they both have scars that run deep, deeper than they may appear at first glance. It’ll all come out with time. Something he hopes they have plenty of if he gets his way.

He’s spent two months getting to know her — eagerly filling in the puzzle that is Sylvie Brett. He doesn’t have all the pieces yet but he has enough of them to understand the most vital parts of her. Her good heart, her empathic soul, and her resourceful mind. She impresses him more and more every day and, in truth, there’s no one he’d rather spend every second of his free time with than her.

His hands land on her waist, urging her toward him. She follows his lead, bring her arms up to wrap around his neck. Intentionally, he meets and maintains her gaze. “The guy sounds like an moron,” Matt tells her. “But if he led you here to me then at least some good came from him.”

“It’s funny,” she says, thoughtful expression on her face. “If I had a chance to go back and change anything about my life, you would think I’d use it, wouldn’t you? That I’d use it to spare myself some pain or humiliation or something.” She sighs contentedly, running one of her hands through his hair until it can rest at the nape of his neck. “But I wouldn’t.”

“No?” He asks, curious about where this conversation is headed. “Not at all?”

She shakes her head. “It’s too big of a risk. I mean, change any part of my past and…maybe I don’t find my way to Chicago, the CFD, or you. And I don’t want to imagine my life without you. Not if I can help it.”

The sentiment rocks through him like a seismic shock. It shifts his entire being and sends happiness like he’s never known breaking through the surface. An irrepressible smile overtakes his face and he can’t stop himself from kissing her. It’s a short but firm kiss. Maybe a little deeper than is perhaps decent in a room full of their colleagues, but he doesn’t care. Because in this moment he knows something with as much certainty as he knows the compartments on 81. Backwards, forwards, and with his eyes closed.

“I love you,” he declares. If he doesn’t say it now he’s afraid he’ll come up with a million reasons to chicken out.

Her breathing hitches and for a moment he worries he’s misread their entire relationship, but then the moment passes and she smiles so bright she nearly blinds him. “I — god, Matt. I love you too.”

“You do?” He asks in disbelief. “You really do?”

She nods, smile never faltering. “I really do.”

He kisses her again and this time he doesn’t give a single thought to who’s looking. Sylvie Brett loves him. She picked him. And he’s going to make sure she never regrets it, not for a second. He always wants her to feel as if all their struggles and their broken journeys were meant to bring them together — to believe being with him in the end is worth the pain.

Because that’s what he believes too. The disappointments and the losses hurt a lot less now that he knows they were preparing him for her.

#brettsey #sylvie brett #matt casey #matt casey x sylvie brett #furrynachosublime #prompt fic #my fic #angellwings writes

24 notes · View notes

nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx · 5 months ago

Text

Helpless part 59, another drop of poison that is slowly sinking in

TW/ ed, talks of self harm

"I'm so sorry for forgetting about the last two sessions, one was like the day the war finished and I was just trying to keep up with all the injuries and everything and then-"

"-Will it's fine, I've... I've sort of been avoiding you." He fiddled with his fingers as he spoke, running them around the bandage that covered his arm and hands.

"I understand, a lot's happen but talking might help."

"Kinda funny how we talked while I was on the Argo II but not when I'm back at camp."

"Yeah, I think Iris was pretty mad." That made both of them smile, for the last few months they'd called ever Monday because of Will's instance, Leo knew the reasons why but he didn't exactly want to think about it.

"Please be honest with me, I'm here to help you alright?" Leo nodded in response, not wanting to hold eye contact. "Were the burns intentional?" A sense of relief ran though him, he wasn't talking about the other thing, that was all that mattered to him right now.

"No god- um no, I swear I just completely forgot about them, there was some shit happening and I just lost track of them and...yeah I haven't done anything since we started these." A little lie, once, not badly, but that was months ago, Will didn't need to worryThe same relief washed over Will's face, Leo wondered whether it was because he cared or if he was still on edge from last night.

"I'm here to talk at any time if you need, alright? If I'm not someone else always will be."

"Thanks mate." His eyes looked almost hollow with each word he said, he knew Leo would be like this, as if hiding behind a mask of his words, either because of last night or hiding something. He thought back to the first time he'd done this with him, the memories still vibrant in his mind.

I hadn't seen Leo in a while, I mean I know he's busy working on his project but like he's never at dinner or anything. I kinda miss him and Piper told me where he is so I might go talk to him. I knock on the door of his bunker, no response but I can hear his short breaths and swearing at random intervals. After a minute of standing there I turn the handle,

"Hey Valdez, you good? I swear I haven't seen you in ages."

"What? Oh, hey Will, everything's fine, just trying to finish building." His eye's were bloodshot, he looked like he hadn't eaten or slept in days.

"Are you sure you're alright? You don't look that okay? When was the last time you ate?"

"Yeah, I ate and everything what brings you here."

"Just checking in on you, from what people have told me you haven't left this place in a few days."

"I- no clue really, don't really have a sense of time in here. I'm fine, just a bit tired."

"When was the last time you slept?"

"Not that long ago..." That was when I noticed the scratches and burns on his arms, half covered by a badly placed, bloodstained bandage. I'll get him in the infirmary, talk to him, make sure everything okay. He looks unnaturally skinny, probably because of all the time he spends here, forgetting about eating.

"Leo, come to the infirmary in half an hour, just need to set things up but I want to check a few things."

"I'm fine, I can't afford to stop working."

"Not a question, you need a break." That night he came, I started with all the routine check ups before talking about everything else. He told me about his mum, about his life on the streets and everything that happened before camp. I re-bandaged his arms, never bringing them up, he would talk about when he was comfortable enough to. A lot of demigods had scars and it isn't my place to force them to talk, I know I have more than he does. "I probably should have asked you this earlier but do you want something to eat?"

"Not hungry, am I free now?

"Yeah, come back at least once a week though. Monday nights?" He looked a little confused but just nodded and muttered something under his breath before leaving the infirmary. After a few weeks I realised he had anorexia, I suspected it from the first one but didn't want to scare him. I helped him as best I could and we managed to keep in touch with Iris messages while he was on the Argo II. It was sort of a form of therapy, I'm not sure if it actually helped but he started eating more and stopped self harming so I think it helped, even if only a little.

"Have you been eating okay?" Fuck, he was hoping he didn't ask about that. He could always lie but that would mean lying for every single week, he knew he needed help, he knew he should just tell him.

"I- um... shit."

"You can talk to me okay?" He felt like he was acting like Michael, the way he would talk to so many Aphrodite kids. Caring, but never making people open up, at the same time implying it. Never showing anything that might make them uncomfortable, no jokes unless you knew exactly how they'd react. Leo took a deep breath, he hoped he wouldn't regret this.

"I- well- I've not been the best for the last week or two, I think it's because of the war." He forced back tears,

"Hey, everything's fine. Trauma throws a lot of shit out of wack, you're going to be okay."

"Can we please change the subject and come back to this? It's just-" Will didn't need an explanation, he didn't want to make him uncomfortable, these were meant to help not something he was going to dread.

"Yeah, 'course, tell me when you feel okay to talk about it. Right now I need to check a few things, height, weight, blood sugar, heart rate." He was still pretty underweight and had a slow heart rate, blood sugar was really low, he wasn't doing that well but considering he just came out of a war less than two weeks ago it made sense.

"Can I talk to you about something?" The son of Hephaestus was scared to continue but he thought Will was a good person to talk to, if he couldn't trust him he couldn't trust anyone.

"Sure, that's what I'm here for."

"You're bi right?" That was not what he was expecting,

"Yeah?"

"Well- um- I think I might be something along those lines...? I don't know, I know I like girls but also I like guys and I didn't really know who else to talk to an-"

"Leo, breathe." His breath was a little shakey but he managed to calm down a little,

"Sorry, I'm just a little scared. Normally when I talked about this sort of stuff people shove the Bible in my face and told me to read it."

"Luckily for you I'm not Christian and I'm gay so no Bibles here."

"Also I think I sort of has a boyfriend...? I'm not sure but I think so, I mean we kissed like three times and he said he loved me."

"I think you do, I'm going to guess you can't tell me who they are?"

"You guessed correctly, I think you'll figure it out though. Just, what exactly am I?"

"Well you said you like boys and girls, there's bi, poly and there's pan which are really similar. Basically bi means you like all genders, poly is more than one gender and pan means you don't see gender when dating someone. There's also omni which means gender matters but you still like more than one gender, so it could be like a preference, or you could just be queer and not necessarily have a label. There's no like certain time you have to decide, you don't owe it to anyone and also it can change. There's probably more labels I'm not aware of but yeah you don't have to make a decision right away."

"Th-thanks, I'll think about that. Also I think I finally made a phone that monsters can't track so I can google it, maybe it'll help?"

"Yeah, it probably will, you can sort of see other people's experiences."

"Can we try talking about the other thing again? I don't really want to but I can't really avoid it forever."

"Just tell me if it's too much okay? I don't think you'll need to right now but if you're not getting better and it's a lot more dangerous than it is now or if you want to you could stay in the infirmary? We can do everything that worked last time as well because I know some of that had helped, it's probably just anxiety and PTSD making you feel out of control. It makes you need to control something which might be a reason. All good so far?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Remember you don't have to rush into it, take your time, don't be too hard on yourself. Things are going to be hard but I'm here to help alright?" He made a mental reminder to himself to test Leo for ocd in the next few weeks, he wasn't sure but it was always possible."Remember you're dealing with a lot right now and it's okay to take things slowly." Leo took a breath before getting up and hugging the son of Apollo.

"Thank you for everything, you're like a brother to me, I don't know what I would do without you."

***

8 notes · View notes

deathsmallcaps · 4 months ago

Text

I work as the person in an amusement park who watches the children who get lost. Here’s some advice. This also applies to any mentally disabled adults that are under your care. Keep in mind that many places will not look for a minor ages 13-17 unless it is close to closing or they are disabled, as corporate considers it a strain on resources and employee use.

1. Teach them your phone number. Best gift you can give them. I’m not supposed to have my phone out at work but I can cut down dependent’s being-lost-time by probably 400% if I can contact you. It also assures the children That We Are Doing Something and that They Are Helpful and Smart. If your dependent has a poor memory, apparently writing your phone number in sharpie and then covering it in nail polish makes it stay all day, even if they’re sweaty or getting in the water. I haven’t tested this but I’ve heard a lot of moms recommend it. I’ve also seen bracelets with little plates or the beads saying the phone number.

Addendum: your dependent may tell you that they know your phone number, but they actually only know your passcode. True story. This summer has been a lot better, but last summer exactly one child the entire season knew his mom’s phone number.

2. Acknowledge that dependent’s memories are faulty, especially in new places. If you tell them to meet you in X spot or that your stuff is all in Y place, they may not remember where it is or remember how to get there.

3. All dependents, but especially little ones, have shit time sense. They might find your stuff, wait there for a minute or two, and truly believe that they’ve been there for an hour. Half the small kids that are brought to me are ones who *know* where their stuff is, but haven’t seen an adult they know personally in 5 minutes, so they’re going to panic.

4. Don’t take naps!!! And don’t let your dependent go anywhere you can’t go or at least go where you catch them at the end!!! Yes you’re staring at the play structure your dependent entered, but can you see them? No? Then there’s a good chance they went elsewhere. So many of the littler kids that are brought to me are brought by genuine, good-hearted strangers who see lost children and take them by the hand. Away from the spot you’re napping in front of/staring vaguely at.

5. This might just be something from my work, but we will not call dependent’s descriptions over the loudspeaker. This is because if an asshole were to see your dependent, hear the description, know it’s a lost dependent, and decide to steal it, they can then use the excuse, “I know where your guardian is! Come with me!” And then lead them out of the park or toss the dependent over their shoulder. Do you know how many crying and screaming dependents leave the location every day? A lot!!! We’re a fun location!!! We’re not going to know if the dependent is screaming because they don’t want to leave or if a stranger is taking them away. We might call the description over the loudspeaker if it’s past closing time and the dependent still isn’t found. But before that, we will only report it over secure radios across the park.

6. Tell a park worker right away. Preferably someone with a radio. Even if you spot the dependent within the next minute, that means the dependent will have less being-lost time. Especially if we already have the dependent with, you guessed it, me. Also please tell us when you find the dependent.

7. Take a picture of your depdendent at the start of the day! That way security guards can have a good idea of what to look for. One mother told me her daughter was blonde and showed me a picture. Her hair color looked brown to me, but then I knew what to look for in the crowd.

8. Keep at least one person in your group in one spot at all times, especially if you don’t have access to your phone or forgot to give out your phone number to the guards. That way they can find you if they pick up the dependent. If you are the only person in your group, then PLEASE stay in one place or at least stay with ONE security guard. It sucks for the dependent if they can’t find you right away even if the both of you are looking for each other and a guard is helping them. You are NOT helping if you panic and run around. And keep your goddamn phone on you and answer calls from unknown numbers!!!!! God. This is a good time to do that.

9. If you lose your dependent in an attraction like the lazy river at a water park, and you have that ONE person staying in place, then this is what you can do with 1+ mobile people.

A. If only one person can be spared to be mobile, have them pick a spot and stay right there, watching the river go by. Eventually, if the dependent is in the river, they’ll go by.

B. If you have two people that can be mobile, both start at the same place in the river and go opposite directions. If you meet up again without spotting the dependent, well, they’re not there.

C. If you have more than 2 people, you can do B but also station different adults at the lazy river entrances/exits.

10. Don’t blame the dependent! Even if they ran away and/or are pissy that you’re upset once you all reunite, trust me, there’s a 99% chance they’re upset too. Yes, this is a good time to have a serious conversation with them. Yes, if this is a repeated problem, and/or you warned them you’d leave the park if this occurred, you should not back down. But also - they’re dependents. They’re not stupid, and they should be told consequences and dangers so they can make good decisions, but they will never have the adult/guardian perspective that you do. Be kind.

Also please for my sake teach them if they’re brought to someone like me, that it’s THEIR job to be safe and listen to me while us park workers look for you. It’s YOUR job to find the dependent, not the dependent’s job to find you. I had a six year old little girl genuinely toddler-howl at me because she wanted to go look for her mom. I’ve never before heard a kid her age howl like that. I can trick kids out of crying 9/10 times but howling came as a surprise lmao. I think I can manage it now that I’ve experienced it but damn.

Also make sure those kids are DRINKING. Being in a water park is NOT the same as drinking water. They should be drinking every 15 minutes at LEAST, I am NOT kidding.

Also if I call you to tell you your kid is here, please don’t call or text me back after you have the kid. I’m sure other places have phones for these types of things but the only one I have is my personal phone. And I am happy to get the kid off my hands and into your arms, but I’m using my personal phone so plz. Don’t call me back. Absolutely call me if you need directions to my ‘office’ in the park. Don’t call or text me after. I have stories about that hoo boy but this post is already long.

#I am not exaggerating when I say howling #not in a wolf way more like a howler monkey if you have no idea what human toddler cries sound like #I like kids of all ages but there’s a reason why #I’m not going to teach elementary school #I am the person in the *place I work* where if a kid is lost #the staff brings the kid to me until the parents are found #so like. I’m never going to see these kids at their best #I wish I could just hug them but I’m barely allowed to hold their hand if I’m escorting them to get water #this time of year their emotions are heightened by the fact that they’re almost certainly dehydrated #but if they’re a flight risk I do NOT want to risk losing the kid #so I have to wait until #a coworker comes by to get them some water sometimes #the howler girl = this kid #this kid was reunited with her mom without too much time going by thank god #she was a huge fucking flight risk omg #she desperately wanted to go find her mom and I’m like #GIRL you are the lost six year old ITS YOUR MOM’S JOB TO FIND YOU!!! Your job is to stay safe!!!#and color this pretty picture oh god please look back at the coloring page instead of calling upon the hounds of hell #I like to assure every kid that is brought to me that #1. mom’s (or whoever) not going to leave without you (sometimes this is a lie judging from the parents.still very important to tell kids thi #2. they did the right thing asking for an adult’s help #3. as they are literally a kid it’s not their fault they’re lost (again a little debatable with the older kids but still they’re minors)(so #I tell them all this)#4. it’s their job to stay safe while we find your mom #5. now do you want some water?#it’s more obvious in the pale kids but I’ve had so many Black and Brown kids come up to me the last couple days looking positively pink #those kids needed water. so I try to get everyone water #it pisses off my coworkers but idgaf. everyone has a legal right to water in this state esp in the summer #and even if they didn’t #fuck you I’m stealing it. these kids need water

8 notes · View notes

ashleywool · 7 months ago

Text

on the absurdity of grief: when these objectively benign or positive things make you intensely sad

-Being enthusiastically recognized at the Drama Book Shop and asked for an autograph/selfie. She was VERY sweet and we had a lovely chat. The sadness had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with me remembering how I frequented the 40th St. location as a tiny baby actressling, poring over all the acting/auditioning books I could find, plagued by a persistent feeling of needing to "catch up." And the saddest part is knowing that even if I could have seen the future back then, I would've been like "but why did it take so long?"

-The folks at my physical therapy clinic telling me "it's rare to see a patient who's as motivated and consistent as you are, even if they have the time and the resources." Why wouldn't I be? I've spent my whole adult life remaining motivated and consistent about pursuing a career that is renowned for the rarity of its success. Of course I'm gonna be motivated and consistent about following a program that has been steadily improving my quality of life within a matter of weeks, AND which my insurance covers in full. It's extremely easy to be motivated to do things that get you immediate, progressive positive results and require no sacrifice. The sadness is because I wish I could get HALF these results from everything else I was motivated and consistent about. And I wish other people could too.

-Going into the cafe I used to take my friends to when they came to HTDIO and seeing the same lovely woman behind the counter who always gave me a discount because of how much business I brought them, and seeing her still give me the discount every time even though I'm not bringing the business.

-Looking at clothes of mine that I specifically remember wearing for certain moments in HTDIO rehearsal, even if I've also worn them ten thousand other places.

-The fact that I'm still using the same cream blush stick that Sarafina (costume designer) gave me for the Syracuse run. Makeup I had in Syracuse should not have outlasted the Broadway run. Makeup I had on Broadway should not have outlasted the Broadway run.

-The intrusive thoughts that come with seeing something in the media about some major Broadway person and then remembering that that Broadway person knows who I am. And the craziest part is, the reason they know who I am is because I am also a Broadway person. Like, I'll be minding my own business, doing the dishes or whatever, and then maybe I'll discover that the milk in my fridge spoiled because I only ever use it for baking and I haven't baked in a while, and then my theatre kid brain will be like, "The milk has gone bad, hold up just a second, why is everything in this fridge warm and tepid?" and the impulse will be to continue the lyrics, but then I remember LIN-MANUEL MIRANDA FOLLOWS ME ON INSTAGRAM NOW and the next thing I know I'm standing catatonically over my sink with the carton of spoiled milk in my hand, my executive functioning having short-circuited so intensely that I forgot that I'm supposed to pour the milk down the drain and not just stare at the open spout on the upright carton hoping the smell dissipates, and then eventually I snap out of it and get rid of the milk and the carton, but then I need to lie down, and then I feel like I have to apologize to Lin-Manuel Miranda because even though he's not physically present, and we haven't directly interacted since he came to the show, and he probably devotes maybe 0.01% of his time to thinking about what that one chick from the autism musical who showed him that Strong Bad gif might be up to right now, I just know he felt that somehow and he does not deserve to be telepathically assaulted by my weirdness like that, and the worst part is that I'm sure the embarrassment I made myself feel as a result of this made-up situation that I made up wouldn't feel nearly as pathetic if the show was still running.

Grief is weird.

#grief #grief is weird

8 notes · View notes

sunny-reis · 1 year ago

Note

hi! can i request akito shinonome x reader where they get into an argument? maybe it takes them a few days to make up because akito is stubborn and reader is a bit shy and overthinks like "what if he doesnt want me anymore" or whatever. oneshot please..! thank you, and have a nice day!! dont write if you dont wanna :)

oneshot - post-argument tension w/ akito

i wish i never ever told you all about it, but i just had to let you know; never meant to hurt you, tho

notes: pjsk req woohoo 🤠 i'm not sure if you wanted them to make up after the whump so ,.,,.,. we ball lmao

tags: gender-neutral reader, you're friends with ena, an, and kohane

word count: 1,987

thirteen hours and twenty-six minutes.

that’s how long you’ve gone without hearing the familiar ding! of a message from akito. it’s almost half past nine now, you note, double-checking the small alarm clock on the side table by your bed. it's been more than half a day since you’ve talked to the redheaded idiot you call a boyfriend, and you can't help but be pissed (and worried sick, but you're too angry to think about that right now. he doesn't deserve my worry, you think).

it all started late yesterday, when he was supposed to come over to your place after his afternoon dance practice – the two of you had made plans to visit a cute new bakery opening on main street. needless to say, he completely ignored your texts and calls, replying hours later with a simple “sorry, i forgot. catch up with you later.” being human, you replied with a series of passive-aggressive texts, inevitably leading to an explosive argument. you sat on the couch for what felt like hours after, kicking around the stupid cow plushie he won you at a summer fair now on the ground. how hard is it to call ahead? or keep a stupid promise?

and so, here you are, listening to music in bed and staring emptily at the ceiling. a single thought floats around in your head: what the hell’s up with akito? he’s never been the type to be dry, not even on the numerous times when he's been frustrated out of his mind with schoolwork, or fed up with family politics and his dad. the night goes by slowly, and after far too much moping, you huff and sit up against the headboard. pausing your music, you open the messages app to (wishfully) check for a text from akito, only to be met with the same “hey aki, call me when you're free” you sent hours ago. sighing, you text the one person you think would know where he is: ena.

you - 10:32

hey ena !

is aki home? he won't reply to me

minutes later, a message bubble pops up.

enanan - 10:37

umm yeah

but he looked pretty tired when he came home an hour ago

you bite your nail, a force of habit; akito’s dance practice ends at 3:20 at the very latest. what on earth has he been doing for the past six hours?

you - 10:38

oh okay ;-;

ena - 10:38

did he say something to you?

i’ll kick his ass if he did something stupid

just say the word !!

you let out a small laugh, wrapping the covers tighter around yourself. count it on ena to keep him straight.

you - 10:39

nonono i was just overthinking !

poor guy’s probably exhausted :(

ena - 10:40

probably

get some rest though !! no man’s worth losing sleep over

you - 10:40

yeahhh i probably should

you too !!

ena - 10:41

eh i’ll try

night y/n :)

you - 10:41

nighttt

unfaithful to your words, you do not get some rest. instead, you spend far more time than you should mindlessly scrolling through anything and everything you can find on your phone to distract yourself from your thoughts, somehow ending up playing through a particularly spicy story on episode at two am. looking up from the dim screen, you sigh. ena’s right - no man’s worth losing sleep over. tapping furiously through the rest of the episode, you toss your phone under the pillow next to you and shut your eyes, trying to sleep.

although you managed to get a good six hours of sleep, you find your eyes shooting awake at 8:37 am. although it's the weekend, a sunday, you've become accustomed to waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to get ready. sitting up and stretching, you quietly pad down to the bathroom to fix yourself, being rid of last night's woes.

after a small breakfast of cereal and orange juice, you make a list of everything you plan to do today; an, a member of akito’s dance group and one of your closest friends, proposed you, ena, and kohane go out for lunch at one of the numerous cafes on main street. going outside definitely sounds better than sitting at home and sulking, so you set off to the cafe an send the address to at noon.

a little bell chimes as you open the door, instantly hit by the sweet aroma of various pastries on display. you see everything, from blueberry muffins to finely decorated cakes; your wallet feels lighter at the sight of them. making your way over to a table in the secluded corner where an waves at you, signature smile plastered on your face, you sit down on the booth. next to you sits ena, and across, an and kohane.

“hey, y/n, good to see you!” says ena, followed by a small wave from kohane.

“hello hello! i haven't seen you in a while, kohane, how’s everything going?” you ask, setting your bag down next to you.

“sorry,” she replies sheepishly, “we've been so busy with practice and school, i barely get the energy to catch up!”

“aw,” you frown, once again thinking about akito, “don't tire yourself out too much.”

“ah, it's only for a little bit! once we finish nail last routine, we’ll be done with practice and ready to perform!” an laughs; kohane only sighs.

“yeah, but it's so hard…toya and akito have been cooped up at the studio for ages, now. if it’s hard for them, imagine how hard it is for me!”

“hey, don't sell yourself short, kohane! i’ve seen the way you dance, you make it look so easy!” says ena, taking a sip of the her coffee. you nod in agreement.

“trust me, whatever you're doing is working! aki’s tried teaching me some moves – let's just say it didn't end well.” the four of you chatter away giddily until a waiter brings over a fancy rack of desserts to sample, courtesy of an. there are a humble few slices of cake, and far too many small treats you don't know the name of.

“wow, an, you sure have a keen eye for desserts!” says ena, happily finishing her coffee with a cat-shaped cookie.

“of course i do, i haven't been working at a cafe for nothing!”

“oh, you!”

a little while after you all finish, you say your goodbyes to an and kohane, leaving you an ena at scramble crossing.

“so…do you wanna walk around, or go back home? i have some time to kill.” she asks, the two of you crossing the road as the cars come to a halt.

“i’m fine with walking, i don't really have anything to do at home.” you shrug, checking your watch. it’s only 2:45 and the only thing waiting for you at home is a full washing machine, so you opt to wander around the city with ena.

somewhere around the local playground, the two of you have a heart-to-heart on the far-too-small swings.

“has everything been okay with you and akito?” she asks, leaning against the chain, “i feel like something’s up. you can talk to me about it if you want.” you sigh.

“well…kind of? i think he's been ignoring me and i’m really worried. i don't think i did anything to upset him, and he’s been really exhausted lately.”

“oh, yeah, he's been coming home later too. i don't blame him, really. i guess perfectionism is a family disease.”

“definitely,” you shake your head, “i'm not angry at him at all, but i feel…hurt.” she sits up alertly.

“why? did he say something?”

“no, no, that's the problem! he missed our date the other day, but he said sorry and we fought over text. i feel so bad, but i know i’m not being irrational, and he's ghosting me! we’ve fought before, but what if this is it?” ena mumbles under her breath, something about a “stupid kid”.

“you both really are perfect for each other, you know that?” you tilt your head in confusion.

“how so?”

“you're both so hard-headed,” she laughs, “and stupid, sometimes. although that's more him than you.”

“i guess so.”

“but seriously, let me talk to him at home. maybe then he’ll get the balls to apologize and it’ll all be okay again.”

“you don't need to get tangled up in this mess, ena, don't worry-”

“oh, shut up! no man is worth lowering your standards for, that applies to him, too! maybe it’ll do you both some good, too.”

“you're the best, really.” you say, squeezing her hand.

“oh, i know.” ena flounces; you laugh, getting off the swing and brushing the sand off your lap. the walk to your house is short, or so you assure ena, but she walks back with you anyways.

“don't worry about akito, okay? i’ll handle him.” she says, walking down the steps to your house. you nod, waving at her as she leaves. deep down, the two of you know that won't be happening – worrying about akito is a part of the package, so you’ve come to realize.

you decide to spend the rest of the day lazing around on the couch, snacking on popcorn as you binge chick flicks. as you subconsciously replay the events of the past two days in the back of your mind, the guilt settles in. you sit up, checking your phone for any messages and signs of life from akito, and flinching at the sudden brightness. looking around, the state of the living room is as pathetic as you feel. there are popcorn kernels where you tried (and failed) to throw them in the small trash can, pillows strewn all over the floor, blankets folded messily, each mess driving you crazier by the minute. pausing the movie, you sigh, getting up to clean whatever you see. although you still feel like garbage mentally, seeing the room decently clean makes you feel slightly better.

before you realize it, you're yawning and no longer paying attention to mean girls playing on the laptop in bed. sitting up and stretching, you set it on the nightstand, wrap yourself up in a blanket cocoon, and begin to fall asleep.

you're woken out of your peaceful slumber by the abrupt ring of the doorbell. rubbing your eyes, you pad to the front door, opening it to see none other than-

“aki? what are you doing here, it’s the middle of the night?” he’s drenched, clearly having walked here in the ongoing downpour behind him. how cliché. you let him in, helping him feel off his jacket and fetching him a towel.

“so, are we gonna talk about the elephant in the room?” you ask, sitting down next to him on the couch. he looks down at his feet.

“yeah, we probably should.”

“speak your peace, then, i’m listening.”

“well…i’m sorry i've been an ass,” akiro sighs, “everything’s been so overwhelming lately.”

“i’m sorry, too. i shouldn’t have been so passive-aggressive, it clearly only made things worse.” he shakes his head.

“no, i get it. i was in the wrong and i lashed out at you for no reason. i missed our date, too! i’ve been really shitty to you, you don't deserve any of that.”

“i understand why it happened, aki,” you say, giving him a small smile and grasping his hand in yours, “you can talk to me when things get rough, though, you know what.”

“i know, i know, and i'm sorry.”

“no use dwelling on the past now, i guess, yeah?”

akito nods, laying down on your lap; you play with his hair absentmindedly, listening to him mumble about his week. the weight on your chest is lifted just by the sight of him opening up to you again, and you feel much better.

“hey, aki, promise me something.”

“hm?”

“don't ghost me again, or i’ll kick your ass.”

#asks #reqs #anon #pjsk #akito x reader #akito imagines #akito oneshots #pjsk x reader

27 notes · View notes

tabbycatplushy · 9 months ago

Text

Running Late

Featuring: Paprika, Liz, Bruma

2.1k words

Paprika is running late to an important appointment. When she misses the bus, she needs a transformative potion to get her there on time!

[bat furry tf, shrinking, wardrobe malfunction]

Fuck fuck fuck fuck please fucking be there fuck fuck…

Paprika was sprinting down the sidewalk, now only a block away from the bus stop. It was evening, and the streets were getting busier with people walking home from work. Amber light washed across the city from the west, stretching Paprika’s shadow dozens of feet before her.

The orange tabby weaved through packs of pedestrians, paws slapping pavement. Can’t be late, can’t be late!

Nearing the end of the block, she passed right by the entrance to her apartment building. Twenty floors up, Mocha was probably getting ready for her evening stream while Joule made dinner. Paprika wasn’t heading home, though—she had an appointment to get to.

She turned the last corner, swallowed by the skyscraper’s shadow. She kept running, blinking as her eyes adjusted, then screeched to a halt when she saw the covered bus stop.

The bus was gone. She was too late.

Godsdammit! I should have paid closer attention to the time at the café. I know I lose track of time when I’m writing!

The scent of fabric smoke breached her nose, and she realized she was burning black holes in her clothing. She tiredly tamped the singed materials out with her paws and took deep, calming breaths.

Paprika sighed. There was no point beating herself up over something she couldn’t control. Right now, she had to focus on what she could do.

Mind racing, she tried to come up with a plan. Then it hit her: Lizzie’s shop! It's got to have something!

The tabby ran back, retracing her steps. Just past the double- doored building entrance, a little windowless storefront faced the street.

“THE SHAPE SHOPPE:

ALCHEMICAL PRODUCTS & SERVICES

est. 1924”

Paprika grunted as she pushed through the heavy wooden door. “Liz, I need help!”

Inside was a small waiting room, with antique reclining chairs and light reading material. Opposite the entrance was a counter, where now reclined a silver-scaled dragon.

Well, mostly dragon. A humanoid body supported a long, sinuous neck, which curled around to rest its horned head on the counter. A mane of glossy purple hair ran all the way down the dragon's spine, culminating with a tuft at the tip of its tail. Paprika could see its length, draped across several of the shelves behind the counter.

In short, Liz looked cool as hell today.

It seemed Paprika had caught it napping; padding up to the counter, she rung the bell as gently as she could.

Nictitating lids peeled open behind a mop of purple hair, revealing slitted purple eyes. The dragon smiled its fang-lined maw as it rose up and up and up; its neck was so long that it had to curl around to keep its head from bumping the rafters.

“Ah," said Liz, "my favorite customer. What can I do for you, kitten?”

Paprika blushed at Lizzie's nickname for her. Normally, only Mocha or Joule could call her that and avoid getting socked; Liz was the exception—and it knew that, which meant Paprika got relentlessly teased whenever she came to the shop.

The tabby forgot what she had meant to say; she stuttered for a second, before pulling herself together. “Hi Liz, sorry to wake you. That dragon form looks great on you, by the way!”

The alchemist had a completely different form every time Paprika saw him; a walking advertisement for the shop. “Oh, I know, kitten. Thank you for noticing.” It preened a bit, showing off its luscious mane. Its scales shimmered in the light.

Paprika remembered why she came here in the first place. “I need to get across town in less than half an hour. The bus is gone. Could you give me a rush order? Something with wings? I really need to make it on time!”

“Hmmmm…” the dragon rumbled from its chest, a sound oddly alike to purring. “That’s a tall order. Wings, you say? But I think I have just the thing.”

Liz uncoiled its neck, slithering into the labyrinth of shelves behind the counter. The alchemist's serpentine tail drifted out from the alchemist’s robes, and the purple-tufted tip disappeared around a corner several seconds later than the rest of its body.

Paprika waited patiently, struggling not to tap her foot or check the time. After a moment, Liz’s silver head reappeared, and the rest of it followed soon after.

“Here you go. Should do the trick.” It placed a vial of violet liquid on the counter. “Instant effects. Wings to carry you wherever you need to go. The only thing is that it’s been sitting for a while, so it may not last as long as usual. I give it perhaps… three to four hours.”

Paprika wanted to kiss its scaly mouth, she was so relieved. “Thank you so much, Liz, you’re a lifesaver! How much?”

“For you? No charge. It was a custom order, but they never came to pick it up.” The dragon shrugged. “This way, I know it’s helping someone instead of going bad on the shelf.”

“Liz, you’re the best. Seriously.” Paprika uncorked the vial, tipped it toward the alchemist, and knocked it back.

Liz wasn’t kidding when it said ‘instant effects!’ she thought. Vertigo clouded her senses as she began to shrink. The floor was coming up fast on the tabby, her five-foot-three quickly diminishing. She felt the familiar bittersweet-ache of shifting bones as her skeleton compressed itself down, down and down. By the time her vision stopped swimming, she couldn’t have been more than a foot tall.

Her clothes were piled around her. She looked up, struggling out of her massive shirt. “Liz, you didn’t mention shrinking! How am I gonna go out like this?”

The dragon was leaning over the counter, watching the transformation progress with excitement in its slitted eyes. “I’ll get you some loaners. You look like a…. twenty-one-X small? Perhaps twenty-two. Don’t go anywhere!” The head disappeared as Liz went to look for some clothes.

Meanwhile, Paprika’s fur was darkening. Her orange tabby-coat was gone, faded to a gray so dark it was near black. She grimaced as her tail began shrinking, the nerve endings firing madly as vertebrae dissolved. There was no time to recover from that before a sheer ringing, keener than usual, overwhelmed her hearing as her triangular ears stretched out, growing bigger and far more sensitive.

Paprika reached up to feel her new ears, running her fingers along their edges. As she explored her changes, her snout lengthened, the pink tip of her nose growing into an angular point that stuck straight upwards.

She felt a stretching sensation in the skin of her lower back and armpits as thin, leathery skin formed into two hairless flaps. Her pinky fingers bent sideways, extending into long appendages that marked the outer boundaries of her growing wings. Luckily she still had full use of her hands, only a finger short.

The changes seemed to be mostly finished. Paprika walked to the floor-to ceiling mirror against the wall, and took herself in.

Alright, she thought, mostly the same as before, just with a pallet swap and some extra mobility. She extended her right arm, pulling the wing-flap taut, and moved her long pinky up and down. Her wing got tighter or looser at different positions.

Tabling that for now, she took a closer look at her face. It wasn’t just the nose that had changed; her eyes had gotten bigger in proportion to her head. But don’t bats have small eyes? I suppose I should be glad I’m not blind now. But I have to admit, it’s a cute look. She brought her hands up to her nose, feeling the shape of it.

Alright, let’s test out these… flappers? I’ll just stick to 'wings.'

Sticking out both arms, she fully extended her wings and brought them down as hard as she could. Air caught in the flaps, launching her upward with more force than she was expecting.

It was way too much��the air blew strongly against her wings, folding in her pinkies. She lost control, tumbling over herself mid-air.

She landed with an OOF on the counter top.

The little batgirl dizzily stood up, dusting herself off. Okay, second time’s the charm.

Paprika spent the next few minutes acclimating herself to her new body, and figuring out the mechanics of flying. By the time she heard the rumbling of Liz returning to the front, she had gotten enough of the basics to be fairly confident she could fly to her destination.

While Paprika practiced hovering in the air, the draconic alchemist reached the counter, a smile on its lips. Suddenly, Paprika was all too aware that she was entirely naked. She fell back to the counter, quickly covering herself up behind her wings.

Liz let out a rumbling chuckle. “Don’t worry, little kitten, nothing I haven’t seen before.” It placed a bundle of cloth on the countertop. “Here, this should fit you well.”

It was some kind of romper, stitched out of orange and red fabric. The stitching looked a little big to her, but it was actually tiny; Paprika had no idea how the alchemist had managed to make it so small. Blushing, she turned away from the looming dragon, pulling it on.

It fits really well—Liz knows its stuff! The sides were entirely open, allowing space for her wings. It covered all the important stuff. And, most important, it looked really cute on her.

“This is great, Liz, fits like a glove!” She was turning in front of the mirror, checking the outfit from every angle.

“I thought so. It looks good on you, little one. Long as you don’t mind going commando for the evening.”

“I think I’m small enough no one will notice. Or care.” She turned back towards the alchemist. Lizzie’s form towered over her. Paprika approached its hands, draconic claws folded over one another, and wrapped her arms around one finger. She nuzzled her cheek against a scaly knuckle. “Thank you, Liz. Really.”

Paprika looked up, seeing a toothy grin splitting silver-scaled cheeks. "Of course, kitten. Now go, before you're late!"

With one last nuzzle, she pulled away and stood up. “Yeah, I’ve really got to get going now. But I think I can do it!” She flapped her wings, hovering right over the counter. “Can you open the door for me? I could barely move it at full size!”

The dragon snaked over the counter top, then held open the heavy door. “Have fun! I’ll send your clothes up to your apartment!” it called out, as Paprika winged overhead.

***

Flying was exhausting, as it turned out. If this romper wasn’t so light, I probably would've soaked it through with sweat.

She landed panting right outside the bar. Waiting for someone else to go in, the batgirl slipped inside behind them, landing on a table by the door.

She checked the clock. 6:28! I made it! She could have jumped for joy if she weren't so tired. Scanning the room for her friend, she spotted a flash of gray fur hunched over a guitar. She fluttered over while he tuned his instrument.

“Bruma! Bru! Over here!” Pointed ears perked up, and the wolf’s head swiveled in Paprika’s direction. His head tilted in confusion. Paprika landed on the table in front of him.

Recognition dawned in his yellow eyes. “Ricky? Is that you?”

Paprika made a little curtsy, smiling at her old nickname. “In the flesh. Thought I’d change up my look!”

Bruma still wore his work clothes: patched gray jeans and a white tank with dark oil stains here and there. A flannel hung on his broad shoulders. His keys hung from a carabiner on his belt loop. He looked every bit the stereotypical butch.

He nodded, looking her up and down. “This is a great look. Look at your little nose," he said, sticking out one finger to boop it. "I love it.”

Paprika blushed; Bru always had the best compliments. "The nose is alright, but you should try flying some time!"

"No way, I'm not built for air travel. I'd just throw up everywhere. It'd be ugly." He patted her little head. “Thanks for coming, Ricky. I’m really glad you’re here for this.”

“Absolutely nothing could've stopped me from coming tonight, Bru,” Paprika smiled.

A little bleep trilled from his watch. “Aight, it’s time for me to go up. Wish me luck cat-bat!”

He held out a fist half as tall as Paprika, and she bumped it with her own tiny paw. Bru stepped onto the little stage in the corner of the bar, and began playing.

***

Paprika sat back and listened to the tunes strummed by Bruma's deft pick, coming down from the exertion of her frantic flight. The crowd seemed to be enjoying it as well, judging by their quieted voices and tapping feet.

The sound of ripping fabric broke the air, carried by the relative quiet of the taproom as Bruma abruptly stopped playing. Suddenly overcome with vertigo, vision swimming with colors and shapes, Paprika blinked her vision clear to find that she was suddenly much higher than she had been a second ago. The people at the table next to her were blushing, looking pointedly into their drinks. Her blood ran cold. Oh no, nononononono...

She looked down, and saw orange and white fur, bare to the world, her little red romper ripped in two on her lap. Two hours! You said two hours, Liz!

Bruma set down his guitar, his chair scraping the stage floor as he hurried back to Paprika's table. Pulling off his flannel, he wrapped it around her frozen form. "Always an interesting time with you around, Ricky," he whispered.

Face burning, streamers of smoke began to rise from the table where she sat, her legs burning into the wood. She gladly took the flannel, covered herself up, hunched over herself in an attempt to get small once more.

#writeblr #trans writer #furry #transfur #shrinking #fursona #paprika #liz #bruma #meow #squeak #tf #my lit #fluff #dragon

6 notes · View notes

dreamersinthedaylightinspo · 2 years ago

Text

THE DREAMERS IN THE DAYLIGHT: HOPE

Scene: After Feyre's testimony concludes, Tamlin experiences some emotions - both familiar and unfamiliar.

WARNING: This fic is highly Feysand-critical, and contains OCs who do not have their backstories explicitly described in the below scene.

Taglist: @kitkat-writes-stuff

I'm thrilled you all liked the original snippet! TBH I haven't updated my fic in months but I promise I'm still working (hence the snippets) so I'll be glad to share them here while I hammer out the kinks for the next chapters.

It was like he was emerging from the mists. Out of the dark and into the sun.

He had not felt this much present in his own, male body for years.

His heart was pounding wildly with an emotion he barely recognized, because the last time he’d felt it, it had blown up spectacularly in his face.

Hope.

There were a lot of things he’d done wrong, and those he would accept, and he’d take the hatred, because he’d never given a single solitary shit what most of these vain lords and preening courtiers thought of him anyway – but this. The villages. All of those children.

Feyre had done that to him. Feyre.

She had lied through her teeth. Lied with smiles and sweetness.

Like Rhys.

Like her.

And when he had run ragged, from village to village, half the time on his own, shielding those faeries with his own monstrous body –

Eunomia of the Day Court was his savior, and Tamlin seriously considered marching himself down onto the floor of this tribunal and kissing her directly on the mouth, and damn how it would look to anyone else if he did.

For a few minutes after the trial, he didn’t move. Many people, he considered, underestimated his intelligence because he’d openly admitted that he couldn’t manage the flowery pretensions of court etiquette and that he had no patience for diplomacy. But he was observant.

He saw Feyre rise shakily from the bench, even though she tried valiantly to hide it. She was always good like that – she made reckless decisions like it was her job, and then when she faced consequences, covered it up with a cold bravado. But Eunomia’s questioning had unnerved her. She’d gotten under Feyre’s skin. He felt a vicious gladness so profound that it was almost shocking. Now you understand, he thought. Do you finally understand?

He used to love that girl.

Used to.

He cast his gaze once again to the doors, where one of the guards had poked her head in to chat. Helion had assigned at least one guard to Eunomia, since Tamlin’s own meeting with her. Probably, this was on the off chance that Rhys was in the mood to make trouble, or rather, that it was a day ending in ‘y.’ But clearly, Eunomia didn’t mind; she even smiled faintly at the guard, and accepted a friendly slap on the back as they filed out together. Feyre’s eyes were wide and icy – frozen pools. That was what he’d thought when he’d first looked into her eyes, in the cramped little hovel they'd called a house.

She had been so small and so brave back then.

Who was this person that was clinging to Rhys’s arm, curling into his side as if she needed protection, as if she needed comfort?

Perhaps Feyre really had died Under the Mountain.

Rhys, of course, was looking as he always did, flanked by his loyal Illyrian brothers, who uniformly despised Tamlin, and the creature Rhys had insanely decided to release from the Prison. He decided to ignore them.

He also saw Feyre’s sister – the nice one, the one whose name he always forgot. When he placed the glamour over the Archeron family, her mind had been as open as a new bud, and he’d almost felt sorry to have to intrude. She was also looking at Eunomia’s retreating back. But her eyes were noticeably less hostile. She looked curious, almost.

Her eyes drifted upwards towards where he sat.

Tamlin slid his eyes away, and pretended that he was not watching. He regarded Helion, who was chatting with Thesan still. It was a neutral conversation. One could even say it was boring, as far as conversations with Helion Spell-cleaver could be called boring.

Three of us, he thought dully. Three stupid, arrogant Lords in a room.

A miracle, really, that they were all still alive.

Nothing else of interest was happening, as the Courts filed out. After all, Keeper Eunomia had left the room.

But Tamlin thought he could catch her quickly enough. He breathed deep, and closed his eyes, picking out the different scents of the room – until he found the only one that was fresh and unfamiliar to him.

Like citrus.

Tamlin rose from his seat.

Fiacha jumped up at once. “High Lord!”

A grimace – he’d forgotten about this stupid child. “You’re dismissed for the day,” he said, waving his hand. “I have some matters to finish on my own.”

“Do you require me to accompany you?”

“No.”

Fiacha was disappointed, but Tamlin couldn’t bring himself to feel entirely bad about it. So far, the child had proved himself moderately useful, but the fact that he stuck to Tamlin’s side like a burr was so deeply, completely annoying that he could’ve wrung out the boy’s neck for the trouble.

As the thought crossed his mind, so did an image of Lucien’s disappointed face.

Make an effort, Tam.

“Oh, fuck it,” he muttered.

“Sir?” said Fiacha.

“Nothing,” Tamlin replied. “I’ll meet you back at the embassy.”

And he went after Eunomia.

The halls cleared quickly after trial, which he liked, because it made his current work easier. Her scent was not strong, because she had no magic other than the authority of the tribunal, but it was distinctive enough that he had no trouble following it. And he moved quickly – hunting – until at last he came upon a small side room that was stacked with massive pots of sweet coffee and mint tea, little jars of honey and sugar. There were small plates of fruits and even little cakes and flaky pastry, with long cushioned benches for lounging. Despite his focus, he experienced a faint vision of his father, cursing: Lush Day Court bastards.

Eunomia and her guard were in there, and Tamlin was focused on tracking them that he didn’t hear their conversation entirely, but he did hear how it stopped when he approached, and when he opened the door.

Too late, it occurred to him that he hadn’t knocked.

The guard had removed her helmet, revealing bobbed red hair – a more shocking and fiery shade than Lucien’s warm auburn. At once, she stepped ahead of Eunomia – who was seated on one of the benches, with a little round pastry dusted with pistachio in one hand, and a cup of coffee in the other – and made to guard her.

You are a beast.

Tamlin knew that the guard was merely doing her duty. Of course, she would make to defend her charge against the High Lord who had quite literally chased them out of the courtroom and barged in on their private breakroom without so much as a warning. He looked at Eunomia, who merely stared back. Her eyes were a cloudy gray. A part of him could not help but compare her to Feyre, all angles and sharpness. Eunomia’s face was round, her hair a nest of dark curls that made her appear, slightly, to have a lion’s mane.

While he stared at her, she merely stared back without saying anything.

It was difficult to tell what she was thinking, even now.

“State your business, my lord.”

The guard’s prompting jolted him suddenly back to the ground. He had to think of something to say, and quickly.

“The records you showed,” he said.

His voice was rough. Nomi’s eyes widened slightly.

“Yes,” she told him. “They’re accurate. I verified each one with the assistance of my peers. I apologize, my lord, if I overstepped. I sent a formal request and someone got back to me. I should not have assumed –”

Why in the world was she always apologizing to him? He had already told her once that he would support her with his full strength. Did she not believe him? Was she frightened of him?

“Who?” he asked.

“Hart is the name that I was given. He did not say his family name, but Hart was the source.”

Hart. They used to get drunk and he would sing while Tamlin played, always a song about an adventure. He’d thought that Hart had gone back to his father’s estates, or worse, to the Summer Court, in rebellion after what had happened.

But Hart had given Eunomia the records. And Bronn was testifying on his behalf. Reluctantly, but still.

“I see,” he said. He fixed his eyes somewhere near his shoes, so that she wouldn’t see that was becoming emotional. I am still High Lord. “Thank you for telling me. And thank you,” he added, “for your work today.”

“Please, don’t thank me, my lord. I should be the one thanking you. If it were not for your generous support, then this trial would not be possible.”

She gave all the niceties that she was expected to, and minded her rank – as expected of one of Helion’s scholars – but there was no fear or resentment in her deference at all. Rather, she was completely earnest in her dedication to service. It was – well, it was sweet. At least, her deference to him as a High Lord didn’t make him chafe.

“I’m hardly generous. I think I stood up just to be petty.”

Both her and the guardswoman wore matched, muted expressions of surprise. Tamlin realized that he had smiled on accident.

“Forgive me, my lord,” Nomi replied, with a slight frown. “I do not think that is true. Even though I struggle to understand your – personal connection –” That was a very, very polite way of putting it, Tamlin thought, “– with the High Lady of Night, and your personal feelings towards that matter, I have no doubt in my mind that her actions against you constituted a crime. And I believe, firmly, with all my heart, that the children of the Spring Court deserve to see justice done. Both the living and the dead.”

They’d run from him in some of the villages, because he had arrived as a beast, choosing to forgo winnowing in favor of power and speed, in case he ran across any threats. Some of those burned towns had been places where he'd had friends, lovers. The Hybernian units had burned out sections of his forests, and snared the faeries who fled from that fire, and threw their bodies into pits dug into the earth, like they were merely the carcasses of animals. He wasn’t even planning to go to that ridiculous war council in Dawn, because he had no Court to bring with him, and because he had spent the last three days beforehand digging graves with his own two hands.

Even now, the ghost of that particular anger stirred a fire in his chest.

He trusted her. He was going to marry her.

But she had come back wrong. She had gone into the dark, and she was never coming out of it.

And he should have known that. It was the whole reason he’d tried to send her away in the first place. Because once that darkness got into your head, it wasn’t coming out. There was nothing he could have done to prevent it, even if he’d wanted to.

He had buried his people, and with them, all his hopes.

“Justice,” he muttered. “When it was my fault anyhow.”

“As I said, I do not believe that is the case, my lord. I intend to prove it.”

She was so confident that he almost believed her. In a way, she really was like her brother. She did look remarkably similar to him as well, but there were slight differences in the set of their jaws. And of course, Thales’s eyes had been his most distinctive feature. That beautiful blue did not exist anywhere in Eunomia’s eyes.

Tamlin, whose brothers had merely seen him as an obstacle or a rival on the best of days, finally understood. This was what it meant to actually have a sibling. Eunomia was the sort of person who could make you feel more at ease with the day-to-day minutia of a chaotic world - a rock, which Thales had clung to with all his might.

“May I ask you a personal question?”

“That strongly depends on the nature of the question, my lord.”

She did not seem like she was joking, which was fine, because he wasn’t either.

“Would it be alright if I visited your brother’s grave?”

The guardswoman made an audible sound of surprise – not anger.

Tamlin explained, “I didn’t know him very well, so I would understand if you refuse. But I think he deserves some credit for today, especially. When we spoke for the last time, before we really understood what we were about to do, I –”

He happened to look up, and see the expression on Eunomia’s face.

Of course, he should have known.

“I apologize, Keeper Eunomia,” he started to say.

“Did he say anything before?”

Her voice came out strained, as if she were physically holding it back somehow.

Tamlin closed his eyes. Amarantha had suddenly had him moved to a small, stale room, and for a few minutes, he wondered if he was being imprisoned as a precaution, because if Feyre won her final trial, they would be freed, and his powers would return in full, and he had spent fifty years imagining how he would kill Amarantha for poisoning this world, for treating them like toys, for hurting Lucien, and now for hurting Feyre.

That, or Feyre would be killed, and they would be doomed.

But then the other two were brought in. The woman was called Sacha, and she was of Dawn. Tamlin learned that Sacha was training to be a priestess before she had been imprisoned. In retrospect, she had more awareness of what was about to happen than either of her companions. She had a distant look in her eyes, and kept thumbing a ring against her finger, which may have been a token from someone she once cared about.

Thales, even then, was talking as if this was just a temporary thing.

“You seem confident,” Sacha had said, softly. “You really think we’ll be freed?”

“Of course, we will!” And he’d actually patted Tamlin heartily on the shoulder as he said this. “I’ve got it all the things I want to do planned out – the only trouble is putting them in order. Obviously, the first thing to do is to introduce Nomi and Daphne.”

Tamlin said, “You think that will go well?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he replied, with supreme confidence. “I mean, they’ll be nervous around each other, and it’ll be awkward at first – Nomi doesn’t always like meeting new people but she’ll love Daphne once she gets to know her. And after that...”

He’d had so many dreams. That was how he’d survived Under the Mountain for so many decades. Tamlin listened to him beg for mercy, and known that he would get none from Feyre. She had murdered Andras with hate in her heart, and she would kill Thales out of love for Tamlin.

Ruthless. That was her nature. As cold and bitter as an empty night sky.

And that was the worst of it all.

To Eunomia, he said, “He never lost hope. He was sure that the curse would be broken and we’d all be freed. And he also… He said that the first thing he’d do when he returned to Rhodes was to tell you he was sorry for keeping you up all night with that horn before your aptitude test, and for the time he switched out your lotion for itching cream, and that he’d tell you that he was proud of you.”

It felt ridiculous repeating those things, told to him in confidence by Thales, who had befriended him without reasoning that Tamlin was going to be the cause of his death. Eunomia was far cleverer than any of them, so she probably understood that fact already. The curse, and the war that followed, was his fault, after all. Because he had run out his time. He had not been strong enough.

He straightened his back, and lifted his chin. Get on with it, then.

At least, if she cut him down with a curse or even if she got right up and slapped him, he would deserve the blow. He would take it.

A faint sniff broke his train of thought – and Tamlin noticed for the first time that the guardswoman’s eyes were full of tears.

Eunomia, too, was looking emotional. Her gaze seemed far away, and her smile faint. But there was a light in her expression now that hadn’t been there before. She seemed almost lost in a memory – a happy memory, though. Some pain had gone from her when he spoke.

“That is the exact kind of stupid thing he’d say,” said Eunomia. “Thank you for telling me that, my lord. Of course, you can visit his grave anytime. I don’t think anyone would question it, but if anyone does, just tell the undertakers that I gave permission.”

Somehow, he had made her happy.

Words failed him. He felt suddenly exhausted, and just left without saying anything else. He didn’t know if he could bear looking in her eyes anymore.

When he returned to the main foyer, Fiacha was there, looking like an absolute nervous wreck as he paced back and forth between the pillars, weaving a strange circular pattern with his steps.

“My lord!” he gasped out, straightening at attention only when Tamlin deliberately approached him and stepped into his path. “You went off so suddenly – I waited!”

For a few surprisingly pleasant minutes, Tamlin had forgotten all about him. But he couldn’t really muster up any harsher emotions than the vague annoyance of an older male naturally felt towards a persistent, upbeat younger one.

“I know. We’re finished. Let’s go.”

“Yes, sir! Right away, sir!”

But he did feel better, he realized, stepping out of the hall and into the still burning afternoon sun. He blinked a few times to have his eyes adjust. The light had always invigorated him, but the Day Court’s fierce summers were known to cause veritable heatstroke, and honestly, it was all a bit overwhelming. The myriad of scents – perfumes and spices and cooked food and so many individual bodies all moving around, and stray cats, and gardens, and fountains, and traders on horseback, and fruit trees etc., etc., etc. – tended to give him a migraine if he focused on it.

Today, there was none of that. His heart beat calmly. There were a few hours of light left in their day, yet, and he felt no need to hole himself up in his room.

“Fiacha.”

The boy straightened. “Yes, lord?”

“Is there something you want to eat?”

“Me?” came the baffled, almost-whispered, and entirely pedestrian shock. “Really?”

Tamlin rolled his eyes. “That’s why I asked.”

“I…”

For a minute or two, Tamlin thought he wasn’t even going to answer and started to lose patience.

“There was a place that we passed on our way here this morning,” said Fiacha timidly, “that had a smell coming from the kitchen. I don’t know exactly what it was but I remember the spot.”

Seemed that the Mother had at last seen fit to bless Her child with a lick of sense.

Tamlin said, “Great. We’ll eat there. Lead the way.”

The boy paused for a minute, staring at him in utter confusion – before an enormous smile spread across his face.

“Of course, my lord! Follow me!��

#acotar fanfiction #acotar #my ocs #my fanfic #tamlin #the spring court #anti feysand #feyre critical #amarantha #the day court

84 notes · View notes

catgirlpuppy · 1 year ago

Text

TF ROULETTE: RUNNING LATE

Paprika is running late to an important appointment. When she misses the bus, she needs a transformative potion to get her there on time!

[Bat furry transformation, shrinking, fluff]

🍓 🦇 🚌

Fuck fuck fuck fuck please fucking be there fuck fuck…

The orange tabby weaved through packs of pedestrians. Her paws slapped pavement. Can’t be late, can’t be late!

Nearing the end of the block, she passed the entrance to her apartment building. Twenty floors up, Mocha was probably getting ready for her evening stream while Joule made dinner. Paprika wasn’t heading home, though—she had an appointment to get to.

She turned the last corner, swallowed by the skyscraper’s shadow. She kept running, blinking as her eyes adjusted, then screeched to a halt when she saw the covered bus stop.

The bus was gone. She was too late.

Goddammit! I should have paid closer attention to the time at the cafe. I know I lose track of time when I’m writing!

Paprika sighed. There was no point beating herself up over something she couldn’t control. Right now, she had to focus on what she could do.

Mind racing, she tried to come up with a plan. Then it hit her: Lizzie’s shop! They’ve gotta have something!

The tabby ran back towards the building entrance, retracing her steps. Just past the double doors, a little windowless storefront faced the street.

“THE SHAPE SHOPPE:

ALCHEMICAL PRODUCTS & SERVICES

est. 1924”

Paprika grunted as she pushed through the heavy wooden door. “Liz, I need help!”

It was a small waiting room, with antique reclining chairs and light reading material. Opposite the entrance, a counter where sat a dragon. Today, Liz was covered in silver scales. A humanoid body supported its sinuous neck, which curled around to rest its horned head on the counter; it seemed Paprika had caught Liz in a nap.

Reptilian eyes opened behind a mop of purple hair. The mane ran all the way down the spine of the dragon’s long neck. A clawed hand reached up to brush it back, and the dragon smiled their fang-lined maw as it sat up. The neck was so long that it had to curl around to keep its head from bumping the rafters.

In short: Liz looked cool as hell today.

“Ah, my favorite customer. What can I do for you, kitten?”

Paprika blushed at the diminutive. Normally only Mocha or Joule could call her that and avoid getting punched; Liz was the exception. And she knew it, which meant Paprika got relentlessly teased whenever she came by.

The tabby forgot what she had meant to say; she stuttered for a second, before pulling herself together. “Hi Liz, sorry to wake you. That dragon form looks great on you, by the way!”

The alchemist had a completely different form every time Paprika saw him; he was a walking advertisement for the shop. “Oh, I know, kitten. Thank you for noticing.” They preened a bit, showing off their luscious mane. Their scales shimmered in the light.

“Hmmmm…” the dragon rumbled from its chest. It sounded oddly purr-like. “That’s a tall order. Wings, you say? But I think I have just the thing.”

Liz uncoiled its neck, and slithered into the labyrinth of shelves behind the counter. Paprika could see there was an equally long, serpentine tail drifting out from the alchemist’s robes, before the purple-tufted tip disappeared around a corner.

Paprika waited patiently, struggling not to tap her foot or check the time. After a moment, Liz’s silver head reappeared, and the rest of her followed soon after.

“Here you go. Should do the trick.” She placed a vial of violet liquid on the counter. “Instant effects. Wings to carry you wherever you need to go. The only thing is that it’s been sitting for a while, so it may not last as long as usual. I give it perhaps… four to six hours.”

Paprika wanted to kiss Liz, she was so relieved. “Thank you so much, Liz, you’re a lifesaver! How much?”

“For you? No charge. It was a custom order, but they never came to pick it up.” The dragon’s humanoid shoulders shrugged. “This way, I know it’s helping someone instead of going bad on the shelf.”

“Liz, you’re the best. Seriously.” Paprika uncorked the vial, tipped it toward the alchemist, and knocked it back.

Liz wasn’t kidding when they said 'instant effects!' she thought. Immediately there was a vertiginous feeling as the 5’3” tabby began to shrink. The floor was coming up fast. She felt the familiar bittersweet-ache of shifting bones as her skeleton compressed itself down, down and down. By the time her vision stopped swimming, she couldn’t have been more than a foot tall. Her clothes were piled around her.

She looked up, struggling out of her massive shirt. “Liz, you didn’t mention shrinking! How am I gonna go out like this?”

The dragon was leaning over the counter, watching the transformation progress with excitement in their slitted eyes. “I’ll get you some loaners. You look like a…. twenty-one-X small? Perhaps twenty-two. Don’t go anywhere!” The head disappeared as Liz went to look for some clothes.

Meanwhile, Paprika’s fur was darkening. Her orange coat was gone, replaced with a gray so dark it was near black. Her tail was shrinking, straightening itself out. There was a sheer ringing sound, overwhelming her hearing as her triangular ears stretched out, growing bigger and more sensitive. Her snout extended just a bit and turned up. The pink tip grew into an angular point that stuck straight upwards.

She felt a stretching sensation in the skin of her lower back and armpits as thin, leathery skin formed into two flaps. Her pinky fingers bent sideways, extending into long appendages that marked the outer boundaries of her growing wings. She still had full use of her hands, luckily, only a finger short.

The changes seemed to be mostly finished. Paprika walked to the floor-to ceiling mirror against the wall, and took herself in.

She took a closer look at her face. It wasn’t just the nose that had changed; her eyes had gotten bigger in proportion to her head. But don’t bats have small eyes? I suppose I should be glad I’m not blind now. But I have to admit, it’s a cute look. She brought her hands up to her nose, feeling the shape of it.

Alright, let’s test out these… flappers? I’ll just stick to 'wings.'

She stuck out both arms, fully extending her wings, and brought them down as hard as she could. Air caught in the flaps, launching her upward with more force than she was expecting.

It was too much; the air blew so strongly against her wings, folding in her pinkies; she lost control, spinning out, and began to fall.

She landed with an OOF on the counter.

The little batgirl dizzily stood up, dusting herself off. Okay, second time’s the charm.

While Paprika practiced hovering in the air, the draconic alchemist reached the counter, a smile on her lips. Suddenly, Paprika was all too aware that she was entirely naked. She fell back to the counter, quickly covering herself up.

Liz let out a rumbling chuckle. “Don’t worry, little kitten, nothing I haven’t seen before.” It placed a bundle of cloth on the countertop. “Here, this should fit you well.”

It was some kind of romper, stitched out of orange and red fabric. The stitching looked a little big, but it was actually tiny; Paprika had no idea how the alchemist had managed to make it so small. Blushing, she turned away from the looming dragon, pulling it on.

It fit really well; Liz knew their stuff. The sides were entirely open, allowing space for her wings. It covered all the important stuff. And, most important, it looked really cute on her.

“This is great, Liz, fits like a glove!” She was turning in front of the mirror, checking the outfit from every angle.

“I thought so. It looks good on you, little one. Long as you don’t mind going commando for the evening.”

“I think I’m small enough no one will notice. Or care.” She turned back towards the alchemist. Lizzie’s form towered over her. Paprika approached their hands, draconic claws folded over one another, and wrapped her arms around one finger. She nuzzled her cheek against a scaly knuckle. “Thank you, Liz. Really.”

The dragon didn’t immediately respond. Paprika looked up, seeing a pink blush shining through silver-scaled cheeks. With one last nuzzle, she pulled away and stood up.

“Okay, I’ve really got to get going now. But I think I can do it!” She flapped her wings, hovering right over the counter. “Can you open the door for me? I could barely move it at full size”

The dragon snaked over the counter top, then held open the heavy door. “Have fun! I’ll send your clothes up to your apartment!” it called out, as Paprika winged overhead.

***

Flying was exhausting. If this romper wasn’t so light, I probably would've soaked it through with sweat.

She landed panting right outside the bar. Waiting for someone else to go in, the batgirl slipped inside behind them, landing on a table by the door.

She checked the clock. 6:28! I made it! She could have jumped for joy if she weren't so tired.

Scanning the room for her friend, she spotted a flash of gray fur hunched over a guitar while he tuned it. She fluttered over.

“Bruma! Bru! Over here!” Pointed ears perked up, and the wolf’s head swiveled in Paprika’s direction. His head tilted in confusion. Paprika landed on the table in front of him.

Recognition dawned in his yellow eyes. “Ricky! Is that you?”

Paprika made a little curtsy, smiling at her childhood nickname. “In the flesh. Thought I’d change up my look!”

Bruma looked her up and down. He nodded, fingers to his chin. “This is really cute. Look at your little nose! You’re so small! I love it.”

Paprika blushed; Bru always had the best compliments.

He beamed. “Thanks for coming, Ricky! I’m really glad you’re here.”

“You're my best friend! I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Paprika smiled.

“It’s time for me to go up. Wish me luck!” He held out a fist half as tall as Paprika. She bumped it with her own tiny paw. Bru stepped onto the little stage in the corner of the bar, and began playing.

***

I had a lot of fun with this one. I decided to set a random generator to give me 3 random emojis, then made the story around that. I think it turned out pretty cute.

In case it wasn't clear enough, Liz uses any pronouns and Bruma is a he/him lesbian.

#meow #gay #trans #furry #woof #dragon #fursona #lit #paprika #catgirl #tf #squeak #transformation #fluff #story #tiny #shrinking #size difference

17 notes · View notes