#ONLY FOR HIM TO HELP HER GET A REMEDY AND ESCAPE AND GET HER BACK!!

[grahamcarmen]

[roronoacherries]

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 | roronoa zoro

788 words

content: comfort, fem. reader, sfw, established relationship, reader is sick and zoro is the sweetest boyfriend.

you tried to stay still, tried to be as quiet as possible, but you couldn’t stop turning in bed. and then the tears came. all you wanted to do was rest, but your body was refusing to allow you to.

that was when zoro woke, and you cried a little more because you hadn’t meant to wake him so early too. he’d been on night watch, and was surely as tired as you.

“what’s wrong? are you okay?” zoro pulled you closer to him, hearing your sniffles.

“feel like shit.” you cried. you were shivering and sweating at the same time, your head was killing you, your throat felt sore, your nose was runny, and you couldn’t stop crying. and on top of it all you had to be up soon.

“you’re burning up,” zoro whispered, holding a hand to your cheek. “i’ll go get chopper.”

“don’t leave.”

“i’ll be quick.”

he pressed a kiss to your temple before leaving to find the doctor. you weren't sure how long he'd been gone and though you knew it couldn't have been long, it felt like an eternity to you. all you wanted to do was sleep. to rest and escape the pain you felt throughout your body. 

instead, all you do was cry and turn and turn and turn in bed. when chopper came in to check on you, you could hardly focus on the words he spoke… but zoro — he clung to each syllable. 

“a tea could help you sleep better. i’ll bring you down a remedy as soon as i can.”

“i’ll bring it,” zoro interrupted. “and i’ll ask sanji to make you a tea, too.” 

his hand rested briefly on your forehead, gently brushing your hair to the side. “i’ll be right back.” 

you muttered a faint, i love you and the swordsman returned the sentiment with a kiss to your temple before stepping out behind chopper. you hated the thought of chopper and sanji being disturbed at this hour for your sake. all because you’d gotten sick and couldn’t sleep. pathetic. 

a fucking pirate and you still couldn’t take care of yourself. the sensible part of you could tell you that you were being ridiculous, that it was alright to depend on others sometimes, but it was hard to ignore the overwhelming voice in your head that was telling you you were being a burden, that chopper and sanji and zoro were losing sleep over you — and god, zoro deserved better. 

he deserved a girlfriend who wasn’t so weak, one who wouldn’t cry from a little fever. he deserved someone who wasn’t going to spiral at 4am because he was sweet enough to bring her tea and medicine and take care of her. 

“aight, sanji sent camel-somethin’ tea and a bowl of almonds and fruit, said it’d help you sleep better… and chopper told me to make sure ya take two spoons of this stuff,” zoro held up a bottle, his arms full as he pushed open the door. “how ya doin?” 

“i love you and i don’t deserve you,” you whined. 

“sanji said the same thing,” zoro said, ignoring your pout and setting everything down on the nightstand before helping you sit up. he pulled up a chair beside you for himself. “he went on about poor y/n and she deserves better than a big oaf taking care of her. he offered to come spoonfeed ya, actually, i could go get ‘im.” 

“no, i think i’m all better now actually…” you smiled, not needing a mirror to know you looked like shit. “but if the big oaf feels like spoonfeeding me, i wouldn’t mind it.”

your boyfriend only rolled his eyes, reaching for the spoon and chopper’s bottle. “two spoons is all you’re getting. open wide, babe.” 

you didn’t know if it was chopper’s medicine, sanji’s tea, or zoro’s hands rubbing circles into your skin, but it didn’t take long before you started to feel better and you were struggling to keep your eyes open. “baby, i think i can sleep okay now…” 

zoro took the tea cup from your hands. “want me to sleep next to you?” he hummed, knowing there was something you were leaving unspoken. 

“you’ll get sick.” you whispered. 

“that’s not an answer.” 

“please,” you smiled weakly, wanting nothing more than to rest your head against zoro’s chest and feel the weight of his arms around you. 

you could feel the rise and fall of his chest and the warmth of his body against yours. 

“it doesn’t matter if i get sick,” zoro said, his eyes closed and his fingers brushing through your hair. “i’ve got a beautiful, sweet girl to take care of me.

i don’t deserve her.” 

─────────────────────────────

something about zoro putting aside his pride to wake sanji and ask him to make you tea. something about zoro knowing exactly what you need without you saying it. knowing how to comfort you without being too obvious about it. him taking care of you because he knows you’re more than he deserves (and he knows that you don’t think you’re enough) and because you take care of him the same way everyday. something about zoro.

─────────────────────────────

taglist: @zorobraun @maaarshieee @lyriczhou @tinkywinky27 @dimimyth @gaby-chwan @tk6uro @zoros-4th-sword @idiotlittleme

masterlist | taglist

[daistea]

I love ur mithrun stuff sm can I request him and his s/o celebrating their 100th anniversary 😭 (for some reason I really like that scenario with long living/immortal characters)

Ya!!

gn reader

words: 1,296

╱╲❀╱╲╱╲❀╱╲

876,581 hours, 16 minutes, 48 seconds. More or less.

“You don’t have to do the math,” Mithrun spoke into your hair. His voice wasn’t soft, it was rarely soft, but it was quiet enough to only reach your ears. His arms snaked around your waist and his fingers tangled together in front of you. Without a second thought of what others might think, you rested your hands on top of his.

You didn’t have to do the math, he was right. But you’d heard that number somewhere. Something about 100 years averaging around 800,000 plus hours. That was a lot of hours. A lot of minutes. So many seconds, countless.

And Mithrun had decided to spend them all with you. As comfortable as you were with each other, that fact still made your heart pleasantly clench.

“I know,” you murmured. He only pressed his nose deeper into your hair, acknowledging your response.

Nearby, your friends and family were getting loud. Their voices carried through the building and mingled with the crowd. Fleki was trying to convince Pattadol to smoke something with her. Pattadol was lecturing Fleki in return. New friends that you’d met through the years laughed and chatted, but you and Mithrun stayed in your corner. Odd, because it was your party.

“Let’s go,” he said under his breath. His arms tightened around you.

You couldn’t help but make a face, “We’ve only been here fifteen minutes. It’s our party, we can’t just leave.”

You felt Mithrun’s chest rise and fall against your back as he sighed. “I told Pattadol we didn’t want this. It’s really not our usual way of celebrating.”

True enough. Your anniversaries were usually laid-back affairs, but Pattadol’s excuse for throwing a party was that this year was specific. It was special. One hundred.

Mithrun rested his chin on your shoulder. You didn’t need to look at him to know what face he was making. Your husband wasn’t one for parties, and you both had attempted to plead your cases against the celebration. Yet, one hundred years of marriage proved that Pattadol was right. It was special.

But nearby, Otta was shamelessly flirting with a half-foot girl she’d brought as her plus one. Lycion and Fleki were telling bad jokes and laughing too loud. Cithis had made a tall-man get on his hands and knees and be her footstool. Pattadol was on the brink of a panic attack as she tried to contain the crowd and throw the perfect occasion.

“You’re right,” you said, “let’s get out of here.”

Mithrun dipped his head toward your neck and pressed his lips against your skin. Your breath caught in your throat and, without another thought, you tilted your head to give him better access. He always liked it when you offered yourself, bared it all to him like land for claiming.

“Get a room!” Flamela yelled from where she sat at a nearby table. (Why had she been invited anyway?)

“If you insist,” Mithrun responded loud enough for her to hear. His tone wasn’t particularly excited, but his lips betrayed him. He pressed his mouth to your neck one last time, a final act of defiance against Flamela’s disgust.

“Come on,” you huffed as you pulled yourself from his grip. His brow furrowed ever so slightly at the new distance between your bodies, but you remedied his displeasure by taking his hand and leading him toward the exit. A quick glance at Pattadol confirmed that she was far too busy trying to wrench whatever Fleki was smoking out of her hands to notice.

Sweet escape. The moment you and your husband stepped outside, the cool night air of Melini greeted you. Mithrun exhaled and closed his good eye as if reveling in the sudden quiet.

“Our spot?” You asked.

He nodded.

A hundred years of marriage meant many things. It meant comfort, a home in each other, a connection that couldn’t be severed. It also meant that you and Mithrun often nearly read each other’s minds. He noted the looks on your face and knew precisely what they meant. Words sometimes failed but actions succeeded.

With no further discussion upon the matter, you and Mithrun walked hand in hand to your spot.

It was a grassy hill that overlooked Melini, and it was a bit of a hike. Both of you were still relatively young for elves, but over time you’d noticed a lack of willingness in your knees and back. Trudging up the hill had become more of a pain, but the view and privacy was worth it.

As you started, Mithrun turned himself to face you. He wrapped an arm around your waist— two thoughts entered your mind: he was either going to kiss you, or teleport you.

The rush of magic in your veins told you that it was the latter. The experience of being teleported had gotten more bearable through the years, only lasting half a second and not giving you nausea anymore, but the principle of the matter remained.

Yet, the view of Melini distracted you. The prickle of magic dissipated, and Mithrun kept his arm around your waist. His other hand brushed through your hair, tucking the strands behind your ear. You scanned the growing blanket of the city beneath you. Melini was all golden lamp light and old fashioned architecture. Every time you saw it from that angle, you couldn’t help but think of your short-lived friends who’d created your home.

“Usually I would snap at you for doing that,” you began to say, but the moment you looked at Mithrun, you found his gaze already glued to you. He didn’t care about the Melini landscape. How could he look at anything but you?

“You would,” he agreed, “but you’re not.”

Your heart skipped. “I’m in a good mood.”

“Why is that?” Mithrun’s long, cold fingers gently pulled out of your hair and found their home on your jawline, tracing lines across your skin, to your chin, down the delicate bones of your neck. He looked at you with calm appreciation, like a jeweler would admire and inspect a diamond. He drank in the sight of your face as if he wouldn’t see it again.

Those subtle, lingering gazes always made your heart flip. Somehow, you’d gotten through a hundred years of them without going into cardiac arrest.

“I don’t know,” you answered lightly, “I guess I just like you.”

“I would hope so.”

“Do you like me?”

“I married you, didn’t I?” His lips flickered up into a barely-there smile. “Do you recall when we first got married, and you kept asking me ‘are you sure you love me?’ as if I hadn’t just made the decision to exponentially improve my life.”

You recalled. Half of the time, you were only joking, because Mithrun made it clear, often, that he’d never been more sure about anything.

“I’ve improved your life, huh?” You asked, “Like a nice kitchen utensil or a good broom?”

Mithrun lifted your chin, “Not just a good broom. The best broom known to man.”

“Despite your words, you still manage to charm me. I wonder why that is.”

His fingers were still under your chin, but he began to lean in. You met him halfway, and your lips pressed together. You and Mithrun had rough kisses, with tongue and teeth and grit. You had soft kisses. Lazy kisses. Casual kisses.

This particular kiss felt like it held more, like Mithrun was trying to tell you something. It was heavy with unspoken emotion. His other hand left your waist and went to your cheek, and he held your face, cradling you, as if you were the most important person in the world.

And to Mithrun, that was exactly who you were.

╱╲❀╱╲╱╲❀╱╲

[viridwns]

What do you think Yandere Vincent Phantomhive would do if his s/o escapes him?

Anything.

Vincent will not find her by running into her, he will find her by making her give up.

Darling will realize it is not a coincidence that no ships are heading out, every stranger looks at her with a furrowed brow, news papers seem to be falling out the sky with her face on it and scotland yard being around every corner she takes.

Vincent is a composed man, and he will keep up that facade even after realizing his darling is gone. No one will see the cracks in his mask, not even his own two sons'.

He will get the queen involved. She loves Vincent's mousey wife, of course she will help find the poor darling.

If he didn't have Sebastian summoned already, he sure has now.

This man is breaking down beneath the surface. He needs his wife like oxygen. That's not even the worst part for Vincent. Even if he will never admit it, this whole or deal is hurting him. Vincent isn't stupid, and he knows what he's doing, what he did to her. But knowing his wife hates him so much she ran away? That makes his small heart still and pain set in.

So that's why he doesn't want to find her, she needs to come back to him. Vincent wants her to realize that he is what's best for her, that he is good and sweet and nice and that he is the only one in the whole wide world able to protect her.

If that means sending a few tugs out to rough her up, then so be it. She brought it onto herself.

Vincent knows this process can take weeks, if not months. After all, he had to pick out a woman with a little spunk who's is not going to give in that easily.

But at the end of this cat and mouse game. Vincent will find darling in the gazebo. She sits with her back towards him. Her hair loose and flowing with the breeze. She has her eyes closed, enjoying the last few minutes of freedom.

Vincent will walk to her, sit next to her, not saying a word, not making a sound. He just basks in the sight of her, taking her in. It has been a long time and he could see it on her face. Still, she was the same woman he fell in love with all those years ago.

Even now, after all that hard work, darling knows sitting here in his gazebo was all according to his plan. Even out there, he controlled her life.

Everything was going as he wanted things to go, except for one thing. Vincent underestimated how weak darling makes him, and instead of her reaching out to search the comfort of his touch first. He caves and caresses her face. He needed to know if she was really there, by his side again. She will keep her eyes closed.

Vincent will take her hand to lead her back inside. Darling will try to be strong, she asks for five more minutes, five more minutes of freedom. Vincent will not listen at first, but when he hears her voice break as she asks him please. He'll sit there with her for five more minutes.

Darling will be considered mental by everyone by the time she gets back. Vincent keeps her inside their room, not even letting his sons' see her.

She will end up in Vincent's arms again. He will break down, tell her what she did to him and how painful it all was. His mask will fall, only darling will see him in such a desperate state. Clinging to her like a life line. It's only a matter of seconds before he composes himself. And that's when she knows that the only escape for her is dying, but even for that, Vincent has a remedy.

[r3medialch8os]

so since u guys liked that i did this with remedial chaos theory i will now also be doing this for epidemiology.

the most incredible thing about this episode is that it is in fact Not merely an homage like most concept episodes are; it actually happens. a zombie epidemic For Real takes place at greendale. it's not a gimmick or a game or a way to frame the plot. the actual conflict is derived from the fact that people are zombies and the study group need to outrun them/turn them back. how often can you say that a sitcom incorporates a storyline like this and sincerely pulls it off? never.

the emotional tension in this episode is framed around troy/abed/jeff and the dichotomy of being a nerd vs. being cool, which respectively get attributed the qualities of caring about the people around you who have turned into zombies or wanting to run and escape from the zombies without trying to help. abed and jeff's costumes are both pointed out in the beginning receiving clear denotations of 'lame' and 'too cool to care' and therefore their positions in the conflict are cemented. the episode has a push-pull with troy being the moving factor, having to decide what he thinks is most important. he gets swayed in the beginning by two girls rejecting him over his costume and jeff mentioning how expensive his suit is. he changes from his ripley costume into a 'sexy dracula'. abed spends the whole episode trying to get troy back to his side, even saying "what defines a nerd? committing to an awesome halloween costume with your best friend?" troy is eventually 'turned back' into his nerdy self (perhaps a zombie metaphor itself, keeping in tone with the theme of the episode) because jeff cares more about his suit getting dirty than surviving the herd of zombies.

a crucial part of the episode is that it is soundtracked by abba music playing from the dean's playlist. now, who would i be if i didn't investigate significant music choices connected to scenes? first up and probably the most important one: s.o.s. is used in the background of a scene where abed confronts troy about changing costumes. troy insults him and walks away. the lyrics are: 'you seemed so far away, though you were standing near. you made me feel alive, but something died, i fear. i really tried to make it up, i wish I understood. what happened to our love? it used to be so good.' next; gimme gimme gimme plays right before the scene where chang and shirley hook up. another insane choice is at the end when troy is fighting the zombies. the whole sequence has mamma mia playing in the background Faintly. then when troy eventually gets to abed and has to fight him, the music comes in much louder with the lyrics: 'here i go again, my, my, how can i resist you?', which i think fits perfectly. the ending song fernando has the lyrics 'there was something in the air that night', both referencing the thermostat changing the zombies back and the fact that it was just an incredibly weird fucking night.

troy is dressed as ellen ripley and also kind of acts as the ripley of this episode. his journey in this as being the sole survivor and the one to eventually save greendale adheres to a common science fiction model where a life-threatening force is faced against the protagonists and they fall off in degrees, resulting in one person being left to mend everything. here specifically, it seems to mirror ripley's journey in alien (1979) as it starts with a crew that eventually gets cut down leaving only her. i thought that was really cool.

more alien tidbits, but the jumping cat scene is also inspired by it. jones the cat is an imporant figure in the first alien movie. in various scenes, members of the crew will go looking for him, then get ambushed by the titular alien and subsequently killed. it is a minor homage to the movie through yet another subtle reference. the bit is also parodying jumpscares in horror movies in general, and how they are used to cheaply amplify the tension. anyways, it's quite the multilayered joke because it also really works out of context as a bizarre comedic moment.

troy and abed's scene in the basement pays homage to princess leia and han solo's scene in the empire strikes back. the conversation in the film takes place just before han is frozen alive in carbonite by darth vader. not knowing if he’ll survive, he kisses leia, only to be torn away from her by stormtroopers. she says 'i love you,' and as he descends into chamber, han replies, 'i know.' an undeniably romantic moment, maybe one of the most memorable ones ever, is applied to troy and abed who have held reign over the emotional core of the plot for the entire episode. it's pretty special that such an iconic moment is given to them, i feel like the creators of the show wouldn't just do this sparingly. it also perfectly resolves their conflict as troy makes such a vulnerable statement and abed assuring him that he already knew, validating their bond once again.

more on troy and abed, it is pretty amazing realizing the emotional implications tied to how dire the situation was. everyone in this episode was under the direct threat of Not Surviving, and still abed sacrificed himself for troy. he knew this was for real. he couldn't be sure if they were going to make it. but i think he had enough faith in troy to aid in his escape. it's very touching. further, it's incredible that troy is willing to fight all the zombies (all his friends) but when it comes time to punch abed, he refuses to do it. he's struck by the force of their friendship, mumbling 'we're friends' defeated before eventually succumbing to his bite.

troy saving the school by controlling the temperature; nicely setting up his further plot with the ac repair school.

him being the one to escape and abed saying 'be the first black man to make it to the end' subverts the common horror trope of 'black dude dies first'. a playful way of keeping up with the horror movie theme of the episode.

also ironically this episode, which features the song mamma mia by abba, sets up a plotline in season two about shirley not knowing who the father of her new baby is, which is functionally the plot of the movie mamma mia!, a musical based on abba's music. probably a coincidence but a pretty funny one.

at the end when the army arrives, they ask the dean about witnesses. when he says he is the only witness, one of the guards reaches into his jacket, suggesting that he's pulling a gun intended to kill the dean and get rid of the witness. when they notice everyone in the school is still alive, they abandon this plan and go for 'scenario b'. kind of dark but i laugh every time that scene happens.

anyways that's all i could pull from my brain crevices for now. this episode is a genuine masterpiece, it will never ever get old and will remain to be one of the most unique sitcom episodes ever created.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

You Know Me Too Well

Gortash x F! Dark Urge

18+ masochism, power play, oral (f!), impact play, sub/dom, p-in-v, knife play, blood play, gortash being a freak (and a bottom), aftercare, some tenderness, porn w/o plot

After the coronation, she can't get the familiarity he showed her out of her mind. She needs answers, and the Archduke is more than happy to indulge her...

-

"Well, this is unexpected." He crooned, turning to lean against his desk.

She lowered herself down from the windowsill, shooting him a sharp look.

"Don't read too much into this, Enver." She hissed his name, only eliciting a wider smile from him.

As if she hadn't scaled a castle wall to crawl into his chambers. She closed her eyes in frustration. What was she doing?

"In that case, what do I owe this late night visit from my favorite assassin?"

Why was she here?

Answers. Yes, answers.

"You seem to know me. Too well, if I'm picking up the correct undercurrents."

She circled around him, noticed that he seemed to perk up at her predatory movements. Turning to look at her with more lidded eyes.

"I do know you."

"Were we together?" Her hand danced over her dagger hilt, something she found herself doing often.

His eyes flicked down to that movement. Back up to her eyes, stepping closer.

"Yes."

Something burned in her pelvis.

This close she realized how tall he was, staring down at her. Yet, she felt entirely like the one in control. There was a stirring in the back of her memory.

"I get glimpses sometimes. Your face is in many of them." She looked down now, closing her eyes.

"I have taken all of his gifts, but I don't want to be a pawn to my father. I dont want to be controlled by anyone, god or man."

Looked back up at him.

"You never tried to control me, did you?"

His eyes softened, reaching out and cupping her cheek. The bite of metal and warm calloused fingers.

"Never."

She stepped closer. Could hear his heart thumping, felt a dagger drive but pushed it down.

"I need you to help me remember who I am. Who I was."

He smiled, then leaned his head back and chuckled reverently. "What weren't you? Brilliant, bloodthirsty, beautiful. Gods, you were everything. All my scheming and bad nature paled in comparison."

His eyes meeting hers again. "We were equals, you and I. But I was wrapped around your finger, if I was being honest."

He stepped even closer, their bodies nearly flush. "You liked me under your boot."

She shivered at that. Feeling it to be true.

"And did you like being there?" Her voice husky, wetness pooling between her legs.

"Oh, very much." He purred, leaning down.

Their lips were hovered across from one another. So very nearly touching. His pupils blown wide with lust.

"Show me." She whispered. "Show me how much you missed me."

He remedied the short distance between them, enveloping her in a hungry kiss.

She pushed back into him with the same force, pulling on his collar.

Yes, she remembered this. He tasted familiar, smelled familiar. Gunpowder, musk, heat.

He lifted under her thighs and pushed her onto his desk, slotting between her legs. Pulling his finely embellished shirt off with haste, throwing it down.

She leaned up, all instict, and bit down on his neck. Her sharp teeth breaking skin.

He shivered, eyes rolling back. A low whimper escaping his throat.

She growled, feeling that deep heat rising up in her. Something that she had feared when touching others. But not here.

She lapped at the blood that flowed out for her. The iron taste mingling with his sweat. Copper and salt.

"You like when I hurt you, don't you?" She hushed, moving up to his ear. Nipping at it.

He nodded, gripping at her hips. His erection straining hard against his trousers.

"Speak, Gortash."

"Yes."

"Good boy." She licked the edge of his ear. Smiling at the way his breath caught.

She raked her sharp nails down his back with a deep satisfaction. Sighing in pleasure.

"I'm going to leave you marked. Bloody and battered." She promised, smiling.

"Gods, yes," He groaned, dropping to his knees.

She leaned back, legs still open on the desk. "You were like this often, weren't you?" Removed her blouse with an easy pull.

"You liked me here." He panted, watching her movements with ravenous eyes.

"That does seem like me." She laughed, removing her leathers, now naked on his desk.

His hips rocked subtly, drinking her in.

"What would we do next?" She teased, leaning forward and cupping his chin. Pulling her hair free from its pins with her other hand. Falling free and bouncing down to her waist.

He moaned, leaning forward and catching her mouth in a greedy kiss.

Without prompting he clasped his hands behind his back.

"I see," She smiled, pulling away. A string of saliva connecting them.

She leaned back on the desk, spreading her legs.

"Eat."

He dove forward and lapped at her cunt. Crushing his tongue into her with vulgar need.

Her head fell back, a shudder ripping up her spine. Oh, she had trained him well.

"Fuck," She hissed, looking down at his dark hair between her legs.

He moaned in pleasure, looking up at her with glazed eyes.

"Slower," She moaned, hips fucking his mouth.

He nodded, tongue moving into languid devotional stripes. Coming up to suckle down on her clit then circling back down to push inside her.

She moaned, a high call. Head falling back again. Gripping his hair in her fist. Ribcage rising against the cold mahogany.

She was degrading herself to be here, a tyrant between her legs. She was far too good for him, and that made her need it even more.

She pulled on his hair, directing his eyes to hers.

"Take your cock out."

Saw his eyes lid, shoulder moving, following her command.

"Touch yourself, slowly."

She couldn't see his hand working but felt his whimper into her cunt.

That sent her reeling, her orgasm on its precipice.

He pulled back briefly to get a breath and she saw how his maw was coated in her arousal, dripping down his jaw before he leaned back in with greater fervor.

That did it, her eyes retreating to the back of her skull.

Her legs clamped down around his head, hands bracing her at her side. Moaning out in choppy cries, a great wave of agonizing pleasure ripping through her.

He continued, fucking her through it. Unrelenting.

She clenched down in pulses and he groaned, licking up her come in greedy tonguefuls.

Grabbing his hair she forced him back, panting.

"Very good." She purred, "You make a good fucktoy."

His eyes glazed over again at that. Hands returning behind his back. Cock red and weeping.

"I think I'll take you now." She lowered down off of the desk, pushing his chest.

He fell onto his back with a smile, eyes lidded and dark.

"Make it hurt." He panted.

She straddled over him, leaning down, her arms rested on his chest. Her ass high up in the air.

She opened her mouth as if about to say something, instead snapping her hand hard across his face.

He groaned, hips hitching up.

"You like that? How embarrassing for a lord." Striking him again harder, his eyes closing, groaning again.

"What if I told all of those nobles that their archduke liked getting his pretty face hit?" She hissed in his ear. Hips lowering down to grind teasingly against his length.

"That he liked being choked." Her hand coming down around his throat.

"That he liked being put in his place, hmm?"

"Please," He moaned, looking into her eyes. "Please hurt me more."

"Good boy, I like when you beg." She sat back on him. Trapping his cock flat under her, grinding down viciously.

He moaned, head turning to the side.

She drug her sharp nails hard down his chest, little pinpricks of blood bubbling to the surface along her trail.

His hands clawed at the wood floor, back arching.

"How bad do you want to be inside me?" She smiled as he panted.

"Please, I need it. I need you to ruin me." He urged, eyes wide and pleading.

She reached for her dagger, brandishing it with a satisfied sigh.

She smiled, rising up and aligning him at her entrance. "You'll bleed for me."

She slammed her hips down, sheathing herself to the hilt.

He cursed, head thrown back. Hands gripping her hips but not directing them. Holding on for dear life.

She struck against his sternum with the pommel of her blade, hard enough to bruise. Hips rising and falling in a vicious rhythm.

The wind knocked out of him, his cock twitching hard inside her.

"What a pretty bruise you'll give me." She smiled at the skin already blotching.

"More," He groaned. Hips coming up to meet her.

She held her knife against his throat, leaning forward.

His eyes widened, pupils so blown they were just black saucers.

"Open your mouth."

He did, panting hotly.

She spat between his lips.

He moaned loudly, eyes closing. Hips moving in fervor.

"You're going to come with my knife inside you."

Beyond words, he could only nod desperately.

She leaned back and started carving slow lines into his chest. Bouncing hard on his cock. Nearing her own end again.

He nearly screamed, hands gripping with bruising strength on her hips.

The blood pooling on his chest ignited the spark again, her orgasm ripping through her like an impaling spear. She shrieked, her cunt clenching down in tremendous pulses, wrenching him.

He whimpered loudly and gripped at her knife hand, holding her by the wrist. Directing it over his heart. Pushing down until the skin broke.

He shattered under her then, beating his fist down into the floor. Screaming out her name and all the curses he knew. Back arching high as he spilled into her in sloppy desperate thrusts. His spend filling her to the brim, an obscene amount already leaking out. His eyes rolling like marbles in his head.

Finally, he collapsed into the floor. Chest heaving, face red and blotchy.

She stared down at her work, the tapestry of cuts and bruises adorning him from neck to belly.

She pulled off of him, and he reached for her as she retreated. "I'll be back." She smiled, finding a wash basin in the corner of the room.

She brought the bowl and a few fresh wash cloths over, kneeling over him.

Gently beginning to wipe him he stared at her, bewildered.

"You are different." He marveled.

"Do you want me to stop?" She asked, pausing.

"No, this is nice." He sat up slightly, still not at full strength.

She wiped away the blood, discarding the cloths as they got soiled. The basin dark red by the time she was finished.

"Thank you, for loving me before." She hushed, putting a cool palm on the angry skin. "I don't think I'm the same person you knew, but I can still feel it."

"I think you're still you, just a little softer." He mused. "Afterall, you still want to shed blood."

She sighed in admittance. "It's a burden. The power is incredible, it feels right. But I don't know if it's worth being subservient to my father."

She shook her head, playing with his fingers absent-mindedly. "I want to be free. I need to be my own master."

"If anyone can defy a god, it's you." He encouraged, sitting up and taking her face in his hand again.

"I have the utmost confidence in you. Do what you need."

She held his hand to her cheek, closing her eyes. "Thank you."

He planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

"My assassin, my muse. No matter your nature, you will always be a part of me. Thank you for coming back to me."

~

[daddycassie]

Volunteering for Lucy Gray Baird

note: trying the scenarios format because I’m obsessed with this woman and I used to write this way and did way better, so let me know what you like better!

🎶🕊️~ Lucy Gray wasn’t shocked when her name was called. Disturbed? Yes. But not shocked.

~ She’d been making her way to the front when she heard a familiar voice coupled with unfamiliar words. “I volunteer!”

~ You had to say it a few times to be heard on the stage, but Lucy Gray heard you loud and clear.

~The look she gave you, you’d have thought you rigged the reaping yourself.

~ Her eyes welled up as you approached the stage. She’d grab your arm, squeezing your sleeve with shaky fingers.

~ “Don’t do this.” Lucy Gray began, but you tugged away from her and walked away. You couldn’t look at your friend’s face when she cried. You were afraid Lucy Gray would convince you not to go anywhere, to let her go instead.

~You refused to look at her the whole time Jessup was reaped to go alongside you, but you could hear Lucy Gray crying.

~When you were escorted out you spared her a final look, you did love her after all.

~Lucy Gray was looking right back, you should’ve expected as much. Her brown eyes were fiery with emotion, you thought maybe she was angry.

~It didn’t take long for you to get the message. Survive this you damn fool. You could hear her saying it and that’s what you told yourself the whole train ride.

~When you got there you were greeted by a blonde boy who offered you a white rose. You narrow your eyes at it. “Let me guess, that’s for Jessup?”

~He didn’t have a good sense of humor to say the least, but he was determined, jumping into cage after cage after you and visiting you.

~You found his name to be Coriolanus Snow, but never referred to him as such, “snowflake” or “baby girl” seemed more fitting somehow. (Coryo did not agree)

~Didn’t take long for the games to begin, Lucy Gray didn’t have the heart to train with any weapon, but you sure did.

~Getting your hands on a sword was easy aside from Reaper throwing himself at you.

~You felt bad when Jessup was lost to the bloodbath, but that was remedied enough when you killed the boy who did it.

~There was one person you became allies with, little Wovey. You thought Lucy Gray would like her.

~You didn’t talk to her much, mostly dragged her along with you. Not that she needed any convincing.

~She was a great climber though! She could easily climb up into the stands, while you needed her help.

~When the snakes came, you and Wovey happened to have come down to take part in the fighting that was happening.

~She was gone so fast you had no time to mourn her, only running. Run. Run. Run.

~Reaper made no move to escape, but you heard Mizzen die rather loudly. Coral ran behind you as you scaled debris, remembering as many of Wovey’s tactics as possible.

~Coral calling for help was all you could hear, but, well… if you pushed her off then the games would end before the snakes ever reached you, right?

~It did not.

~You lay completely still, not even making an attempt to breathe as they slithered over you. You wondered if Lucy Gray was watching. If you were the only person left, why weren’t you being let out?

~It took a while, but your winning was announced.

~Everything else was a blur as you were delivered back home.

~Lucy Gray had waited for you at the train station for hours, without even knowing if the winner was you.

~She saw you first, and tackled you to the ground in a hug.

~Lucy Gray would cry a lot. “I thought I’d never see you again.” “Don’t ever do that again.” “I love you so much.”

~Your brain lagged over her words before you understood and clutched her desperately to your chest. “I love you too, so much.”

~She thought you deserved to be slapped, but instead she kissed you. Lucy Gray’s lips are dry, but warm. She’d probably forgotten to take a drink once in a while.

~The peacekeepers kicked you out of the train station, but that was fine, you two preferred to celebrate somewhere more private anyway.

~You lay next to Lucy Gray in her bed while she admired every detail of your face, her fingers trailing over your skin lovingly.

~She’d sing to you, hold you, kiss you, tell you how much she loved you.

~Lucy Gray falls asleep first anyway, and you hold her till you fall asleep too.

~It’s the hardest you’ve ever slept in your whole life.

Authors note: I debated between Y/n just dying or actually living but decided I needed to write more. If anyone wants a bad ending let me know. 👹

Also, I’m now taking requests for Lucy Gray because she’s the loml and I need more ideas for scenarios.

[aemonds-wifey]

A Balm (requested by @moonchildrenandflowercrowns

Summary: You assist Aemond in something and it brings you closer.

You enter your chambers, gleefully still Happy at newlywed life. You and Aemond had been married for nearly two months. But out of that time you had noticed one or two nights where he was late to bed, you assumed he was obliging his royal Duties or visiting with his family , whom he was close to and there was nothing wrong with that. But it did make you wonder.

“Aemond..?” You ask looking around , he is nowhere to be seen. Not in the library, nor in your shared chambers- it is unusual at this late hour. You found yourself wondering the red keep, at this late hour it was rather eerie , though your worst fear was being cornered by Aegon and his drunken attempts to seduce you.

You heard a muffled moan, almost like someone was in pain down a corridor above where the skull of Balerion laid. You followed it and opened the door, you’re silent when you see Aemond sat on the edge of a table , his eye patch gone , and an elderly Septa stood over him with a bottle in her hand. Aemonds eye glows in horror when he sees you, the set gasps equally in surprise …you are confused.

“Aemond…?” You asked

Aemond faces away, covering his exposed eye with his hand , the sapphire you see is on the table next to where he sits.

“What is this?” You ask the Septa as she dips a curtsy “princess …I am just adding this ointment to ease the pain of his grace…”

Your eyes fell to Aemond who still did not look at you, you were confused- he had been so intiment with you but you had never seen him without the sapphire or the eyepatch.

You ignored the septa’s plea and stood by Aemond “Husband?”

You spoke softly

“Y/N. No I ..please leave…” he said looking away. Still

Covering his missing eye.

The septa moved to him And attempted to put some remedy to his pain, but you heard him wincing which made you interfere.

“Move your hurting him.” You said taking a step forward

“But princess i have to tend to the princes wound and I have for years.”

“Leave us.” You said with authority

The sister looked confused “Princess please let me-“

You waved your hand “Go. Now.”

Aemond said nothing, the Sept looked at him

For back up but he remained silent. She put the ointment bottle Down next to the cloth on the table and hurried out, the door firmly closing behind her. You heard Aemonds breathing which was out of rhythm, he was scared and could not escape this situation.

You gently took the bottle, you had no idea what it. You could only get hints of lavender and something sour mixed with it.

“Y/N please….I do not wish you to see me like this…” he protested as he heard you.

You looked at him, he still covered his face.

You dipped the bottle so the liquid was on your finger tips and you approached him. Lifting your index finger up he instinctively grabbed your wrist with his other hand, you held your breath and looked into his eye- you didn’t say a word.

He knew you would not hurt him , you only moved your lips to where his fingers gripped your wrist. Fear conquered his face and with a small urge of reluctance , he let go of your hand dropped to his thigh and ran your fingers through his hair - his large hand covered his scar.

“Please…let me help.” You whispered .

He inhaled sharply “You will not want to see-“ he began

You shook your head “Aemond…I am your wife. Let me help you…nothing will ever dissolve my love for you.”

He blinked a few times finally breaking the eye contact , he lowered his other hand - revealing the empty eye socket.

You did not make any noise, or expression as you quickly

Saw how he looked without the sapphire or the eye patch. You put down the bottle And gently took his face in your hands- strongly looking at him with fierce love you dipped your head forward and kissed around the eye that was now Empty. It was your way of telling Aemond you accepted him in any state and you wanted him to never forget this. It made your heart strings twinge at both sorrow and anger. Aemond did not deserve this , the strong boys needed to answer for their crimes- Luke especially.

You reversed round and picked up the bottle , putting a bit more liquid on your finger and gently dabbed the scar underneath where the sapphire would usually sit.

“You…you do not look away?” He asked quietly, almost ashamed

“Why would I want to look away?” You mused

He whimpered “Because I’m…hideou-“

You wouldn’t even let him finish the word as you silenced his sentence with another soft kiss to his scar.

“Aemond Targaryen …the man I married is the most handsome man , the most brave and the most-“

A scoff escaped his lips “You are only humoring me…”

You faced him, full on looking at his eye “I would never jest with you.”

He locked his gaze with yours “You do not find me repulsive even now?”

“No.” You did not even hesitate. Kissing him once again you felt his shoulders relax, he found a hand to your waist and held onto it very tightly.

You resumed your assistance and continued to Dab gently. His eye finally closed as you tended to his scar, you dabbed more ointment onto your finger tips and very delicately

“Is that better..?” You whispered

He nodded opening his eye , the look of fear and vulnerability seemed to have disappeared and evolved into a look of pure ardent glow mixed with relief.

“Aemond…?”

He looks as if he had to ask you something but fear gripped him again . You must Tread carefully now, your arm slowly rubs his shoulder.

“I…the pain…it is a lot…and only small remedies such as this help…but it is only temporary…”

You sigh, you felt an outpouring of anger and sad for Aemond. You could not even begin to imagine what Aemond felt day in and day out, to mask it as he does made you admire him even more. Nobody, not even your worst enemy should have to endure such hardships and constant pain.

You continued to be gentle with him, as you have him your full attention he watched you as you washed your hands in the bowl that sat next to the sapphire.

“I once heard the Maester at Winterfell speak of a concoction …when the winter comes the weather is harsh and some are affected with pains…he spoke of this remedy to help ease with chronic pain .”

you picked up with sapphire with your dry hands, standing in front of Aemond you handed it to him

“Let me write to him …see if I can re create it for you.” You suggested as you watched Aemond set the crystal blue gem in stead of his missing eye.

He looked up at you “You…you would do that…for me?” He asked

You nodded almost surprised “Anything for you…”

His eye curved into a sad but loving shape, the kindness you projected onto him was still something he was not use to. He wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you to him, his head firmly resting against your ribcage. He inhaled deeply.

“You truly are a wonder…the gods did not send me just a wife but a balm….an angel too I think.”

“The Gods sent me the most wonderful Husband. So powerful and truly …a good man.” You ran your fingers through his hair again, placing a gentle kiss on top of his head. You smiled as he looked up at you

“May I ask…one selfish thing ?” He spoke

You tilted your head “Of course.”

He paused for a moment as he tried to find the words “Would you…please…be the one to apply the remedy…to my eye…the septa is too rough she hurries yet you….” He remains focused on you “you take your time…you have a gentle touch and…it does alleviate the pain….”

You nodded “I would be happy to…”

He exhaled so sharply with relief you were sure you saw a tear escape from his eye. He pressed against you again and you held him there as he started to relax

“Thank you …my love.” He said against the cloth of your dress.

You rested your head against the top of his “I love you Aemond.”

Tags

@moonchildrenandflowercrowns @schniiipsel @chainsawsangel @mischiefmanaged71 @nolongereviliwantlove @motley-baby @arcielee @babyblue711 @namoreno @talesofoldandnew @lauraneedstochill @bbyaemond @tssf-imagines @polkadotsocks1993 @yentroucnagol @happilyhertale @actualhawkesworld @pearlstiare @afro-hispwriter

[thenovelartist]

A Heart that Beats for You - Honkai: Star Rail fanfiction

Honkai did not let us have a DanStelle CPR kiss. I remedied that.

Dan Heng had been on many trailblazing missions in his time with the Astral Express. Even Stelle, who five months later was still the newest member, had racked up an impressive number.

Neither had faced a mission that had gone from bad to worse to terrible as rapidly as this one.

It was a fact Dan Heng was sharply reminded of when the rushing river sweeping him away from his companion slammed him into a rock, then a second before the current plunged him underwater. Even as a vidyadhara, he was struggling to escape this mess. Just how was he supposed to find Stelle when he could barely help himself?

Somehow, he was able to catch a break from the abuse, grabbing onto a rock and holding himself there. Even as he choked out water from his lungs, he frantically searched for Stelle. But all he got to show for it was losing his grip and falling back into the mercy of the current.

Rock after rock he was thrown against, knocking out the air he fought so hard to keep into his lungs. And when he avoided those, he was plunged underwater time and time again, hitting the bottom of the river or more rocks

Or a soft body.

Dan Heng only registered what he’d hit after he’d resurfaced, and automatically began searching for Stelle again, even as water blurred his vision.

There. A yellow flash. The ribbons on the back of her jacket.

He struggled towards it. Reached for it.

Caught it.

Even as he was once again plunged underwater, he didn’t let his grip on the ribbon go, yanking her towards him before managing to catch Stelle in his arms.

As he broke the surface, he gulpped down air as he began struggling for shore. He didn’t care which one, but he had to get to one of them. Between the rushing of the water, his own labored breathing, and the ringing in his ears, he didn’t register the sound of a waterfall until it was too late.

Until they were over the edge.

Until they were falling, falling, falling.

Splash.

His body hit the water hard, skin burning in the cold. But when he made it to the surface with Stelle still hanging over his arm, he found the water was quieter. They were still being pulled down the river, but it was much wider and deeper, allowing for a respite. Panting heavily and still choking on the shocking amount of water that ran down his face into his mouth, he searched for shore. Using every free appendage and ounce of energy that he could, he swam for the closest bank.

It was only once his feet managed to touch the bottom did it register in his mind that Stelle wasn’t moving. As if his heartrate wasn’t already racing, it somehow picked up speed. That ringing in his ears only grew worse, and his stomach dropped a rock.

Pressing himself to go faster, trudging out of the water and pulling the limp body with him, he collapsed onto shore, doing his best to cling to Stelle’s unconscious body. Hands shaking, he tried checking her vitals, pressing his fingers on her wrists and neck but finding nothing.

He didn’t hesitate before starting chest compressions, counting off each one in his head and still almost losing track. Then, even though he could barely get air into his own lungs, he tilted her head back, slamming his mouth against hers as he forced air into her.

“Come on, Stelle,” he called out in a panic, starting up a second round of fifteen compressions. Once again, he tilted her head back, breathing into her twice more.

By now, water was dripping from her mouth as Dan Heng pressed against her chest once, twice, three times

And she choked.

“Come on,” he muttered again, continuing his compressions a forth, fifth time before she convulsed under him, water already pouring from her mouth.

He flipped her over right as she violently vomited out the water in her lungs before gasping for air.

“Just breathe,” he encouraged, sweet relief flooding his body as he rubbed her back, hoping it would help coax that river water from her lungs. “You’re okay. Just breathe.”

For a while, he stayed put, half hovering over her as she continued to cough and sputter. She was shaking as she braced herself on her elbows and knees, all her hacking slowly subsiding as she continued to gasp for air. Dan Heng was on his knees right beside her, his hand never leaving her back as he kept murmuring words of encouragement to her. Or maybe those were meant to reassure him that she was alive, that she was breathing, that she’d be okay. He didn’t know.

Slowly, she lowered herself all the way to the ground, her breathing finally steady with only the occasional cough.

Dan Heng was now grasping her shoulder, clinging to her as he hung his head in relief. Finally, the knot in his stomach eased, and the ringing in his ears had subsided.

Allowing him to hear the rustling of the bushes.

Instantly, he was on high alert, every muscle in his body tensing as he braced himself protectively over Stelle, eyes scanning over the area trying to find the threat.

He was so on edge that the mere touch of Stelle’s fingertips on his arm sent a jolt of lightning through him. “D-dan Heng—”

“Stay put,” he commanded.

She sighed, not arguing.

That’s when someone broke through the bushes. “There you are!”

Dan Heng felt himself relax only slightly as their guide on this planet came running down the bank towards them.

“Stay back,” he warned, voice taking on a growly edge as his lips curled into a snarl. “Give her space.”

The guide seemed to pale as he came to a stop. “She okay?”

“Yeah,” came the weak, almost inaudible reply from under Dan Heng, and he noticed Stelle throw a weak thumbs up at the newcomer. It would have been a lot more convincing if she’d been able to hold her fist off the ground for even a second.

“She will be,” Dan Heng said. “We need a place for her to recover properly. She almost drowned in the river.”

The guide nodded. “I know a place around here, but it’s a little ways away, so I’ll have to get a gurney.”

“I’ll carry her.”

“I can walk,” Stelle weakly protested.

“I’ll. Carry. You,” he growled at her. “And I won’t argue with you.”

He heard her sigh. “Fine, I… don’t have it in me.”

Those words were far less reassuring than he’d like them to be.

~~~

Her lungs were on fire. Her throat felt scorched. Every breath she took physically hurt.

And yet, she was so cold.

Dan Heng had made good on his word to carry her who-knows-how-far until they arrived at some little inn on the edge of town. She and Dan Heng had been given changes of clothes but only a single room. It’s all they had to offer, but it was fine since Dan Heng didn’t seem like he would be leaving her side any time soon.

And to prove that, he stood in the corner facing the wall as she changed.

She should likely be far more uncomfortable with the idea than she was, but she knew he wouldn’t turn around. He wouldn’t dare unless she collapsed and he had no choice. They hadn’t known each other long, but the amount of trust she had in him was staggering.

While wanting to be quick about it, she also wanted to take her time drying off before getting into the loaned clothes. The river had been cold, and she was shivering uncontrollably now. Maybe it was her body’s reaction to almost dying.

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, she supposed.

Roughly, she toweled her hair dry before tossing the towel aside. She slipped into the shirt first, then the pants. They were loose, borderline falling off of her, but she didn’t have a choice. Frankly, she was just thankful they were dry.

“Okay.” Newly exhausted, she collapsed onto the bed right as he turned to face her. “Your turn. I won’t look.”

“Are you dry enough?”

“Dry as I can be,” she returned, playing with her damp hair. Her towel was too wet to remove any more water from it. Thankfully, it wasn’t too bad. She’d manage.

“I can see if they have another towel.”

“I’m fine,” she assured. “And if you’re going to ignore me, then at least change first.”

He hummed. “Fine.”

With that, she laid down on the pillow, facing the opposite direction. She would have closed her eyes anyway, but now she did so because they were growing heavier by the moment. She was tired. And cold.

Very cold.

A shiver wracked her body as she pulled the covers up around her, curling into a ball underneath it.

She heard Dan Heng pause, then sigh before continuing to get dressed. After a moment longer, she felt the weight of a hand on her shoulder. “Are you certain you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” she answered, looking up at him, only to be overwhelmed by the concern etched into his features. “I’m breathing, at least.”

“Yes.” His grip on her shoulder tightened. “Thankfully.”

She couldn’t stand that tense look on his face. “I’m glad that March was right and you are good at CPR.”

He didn’t crack a smile. On the contrary, his eyes narrowed. “Not funny.”

Unsure what to say, she turned away, a guilty warmth rising to her cheeks. Fisting her hands in the covers, she pulled them up to her chin.

She could hear him sigh. “You had me scared,” he muttered, sliding his hands under the covers so as to lay his hand over hers. “You coughed up so much water. I just want to make sure there’s no lingering effects.”

His fingers wrapped around her hand, his thumb pressing against her wrist. It took too long for her to realize he was checking her pulse.

“I’m okay,” she said, turning onto her back so she could look up at him comfortably. She made sure to keep hold of his hand, twisting her own hand around to lace their fingers together. “Really. Maybe a little tired and cold.”

“Do you want me to see if they have another blanket for you?” he asked.

She shook her head. “This should be enough for now.”

He squeezed her hand, nodding. “Okay. Tell me if you need anything.”

“I promise,” she assured, if only to calm her companion down.

It seemed to do the trick, as his death grip on her hand relaxed.

“Thanks, by the way, for saving me.” She definitely said those words too late, but better than never. “And carrying me here.”

Finally, his tense expression calmed. He squeezed her hand, conveying what he couldn’t put into words.

She squeezed back, shooting him a thankful smile. “Are you okay?” she asked. Words that, once again, were spoken too late.

“I’m not the one who almost drowned,” he countered.

“Sorry for wanting to care for my savior,” she retorted, trying once again to lighten the atmosphere between them.

This time, she was successful. “Sorry,” he murmured, ducking his head slightly. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“You always say that,” she said, reaching up with her free hand to cradle his cheek. “But I always do.”

His jade eyes widened at the contact, but his gaze soon softened as he leaned into her touch. With his other hand, he reached over to hold her wrist, keeping her hand in place.

“So I’ll ask again,” she repeated. “Are you okay?”

He sighed, his eyes drifting shut as he savored her touch for a few seconds. “I am now,” he finally answered, his eyes slowly opening again. “Maybe a little tired.”

Finally, you admit it, she thought, small smile crossing her lips as she did. After pulling her hands away, much to both of their dismay, she scooted over on the bed so as to make room for him. Once the spot she had been laying was free, she patted the mattress. “Then rest.”

He looked hesitant, and Stelle wondered if he’d decline for one reason or another. However, when he gave a nod, she felt relieved as she watched him slip into the spot she had inhabited.

“I’ll make an exception this once,” he said. “Because I… would feel more comfortable watching over you for a little longer.”

Stelle felt her heart warm at his admission. For as cold and stand-offish as Dan Heng appeared to be, many months traveling together had allowed her to see just how deeply he cared about those on the Express, her included. “Thanks. Although, I doubt you’ll have to resuscitate me again.”

“I’d prefer not to,” he commented, reaching out to lay a hand over her shoulder. “Ever.”

“I’ll do my best to make sure of that,” she sheepishly said, her cheeks growing warm at his touch.

He gave her a relaxed smile, and she felt the knot in her stomach release. “Get some sleep,” he coaxed. “And tell me if you need anything. Don’t be afraid to wake me. I’d rather know right away if you start feeling worse.”

Oh, she was feeling worse by the moment, but that had nothing to do with almost drowning in water. “Like if I feel a little queasy and find it hard to breathe?”

His eyes narrowed. “Yes,” he said, already propping himself up on his elbow to look over her. Honestly, he looked ready to move on a moment’s notice. “Especially that.”

The way he was leaning over her, his gaze sharp as he examined her, was doing things to her heart. But her mind was also a mess. What was she saying? What was she doing?

Well, considering she had him on alert, she had to follow it through; Dan Heng wouldn’t take “just joking” for an answer. At least, he wouldn’t take it well.

Reaching up, she wrapped her hands around the back of his head, trying to coax him closer—

“Stelle?”

—and closer until his face as right in front of her.

“This isn’t a time for games,” he warned. “If you’re not feeling well—”

She didn’t let him finish. Instead, she silenced him by pressing her lips to his.

He stiffened, pulling away before she could truly be satisfied. “Stelle.”

His voice held a sharp edge of concern that had her backtracking. “Mouth to mouth is supposed to help with that, right?”

He choked, then grunted out of frustration. “Don’t play with me like that,” he growled, a worried anger seeping into his increasingly loud tone. “I watched you drown. I could have lost you. Don’t you understand how terrified I was?”

“Exactly: I almost died,” she countered, loud enough to cut into his rant. “For the second time in my life. I don’t know how else to cope but to keep rolling like it was nothing.”

“You…”  Rendered speechless, he looked away, heaving a sigh.

Her stomach sank. He was mad. No, he was furious. And she wasn’t helping.

Slowly, guiltily, she pulled her hands away. “Sor—"

Instantly, his lips were smashed against hers. She failed to swallow her squeak of surprise, but by the time he was running his fingers through her hair to cradle the back of her head, she became putty under his touch. She met his kiss with enthusiasm, taking taking taking whatever he’d give her.

It was a shame he pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” Dan Heng said. “I… didn’t realize how it would have affected you.”

Great, now he was apologizing. Like that made her feel any better. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

His lips pursed as he fought for words, his fingers gently scratching the back of her skull all the while. “I… er.” He swallowed, trying to gather his composure. “We should talk… before this continues.”

He was right; they really should. But she was also tired and dizzy and a mess of emotions she wasn’t sure she could control. “Can I convince you to sleep first?” she asked.

“All right,” he easily relented. “I… I think that would be wise. We’re both too on edge and emotional for it to be productive.”

Logical as ever, she thought. But then her heart reminded her it wasn’t a dismissal of her feelings.

As if she wasn’t a mess before…

Dan Heng pushed himself away, rolling back onto his side of the bed. Suddenly, that felt too far away from her.

So she pressed closer, which only caused him to freeze. “Stelle?”

“I’m still cold.” It was an excuse, and a flimsy one at that.

And yet, he relented, wrapping her up in his arms and holding her close. “We will talk about all this.”

“I know.” She draped her hand over his shoulder, snuggling in closer to this man she’d spent too much time falling for. “But I don’t see us talking ourselves out of this.”

She was so close she could feel his quiet sigh more than she could hear it. And she definitely felt the way he ran his hand up her back, curling around her protectively. “I don’t, either.”

With a happy little hum, she let her eyes drift closed, trying to fall asleep while her heart beat wildly in her chest.

A heart that he’d sparked to life in more ways than one.

[firerose18991]

Prince! Itadori x Black femReader prt 2

Info: fluff, adventure, multi part fic

Written with black curvy/chubby readers in mind but all are welcome

Wrd cnt: 1.69k

Prt 1

As you and Yuji contemplated your impending fates a commotion was building outside the tent.

“FIRE!” A booming voice whipped through the camp.

You jumped up from the stool you sat on, the smoke was already starting to fill the air in the tent.

“Grab your shirt.” You called to him, and pulled him out by his wrist.

When you reached the outside of the white tent, now sullied from the ashen air beginning to coat all of the camp, you saw the chaos. You spotted the head nurse directing a trailer from the camp on the barren hill down into the lush forest beneath.

“Nurse! What's happening?” You ran up, Yuji in tow.

“The Barbarians! They're storming the camp!”. She ran up to take Yuji's other hand. “You need to flee and meet with your army. We can't protect you here.”

“But the camp is neutral, are they killing their own people?” Yuji resisted the nurses' pulls towards the escape route, though it mostly looked like her tugging a brick wall.

“If they have a target like you they would've lost those men anyway. Most of them are the ones you injured in your battle.” Yuji was taken aback.

Since he'd been injured only sparse battles have occurred which only lasted a few hours at most. He was the target of the Barbarians all along. With the line of succession open his territory would be vulnerable. Nevertheless he wasn't going to hide like a coward among the sick and injured. He finally had the time to put his shirt back on. It hung loosely around his muscular frame.

“Do you know where my sword and steed are being held?” He turned to you.

His kind amber eyes still held their warmth but focused on you to give an answer urgently.

“You can't possibly-” the head nurse started.

“The stables are by the edge of camp, close to the lake.” You pointed the way and he bolted off.

“(Y/N)!” the Nurse yelled at you as he ran off. “He’s in no condition-”

“If anyone is going to keep the encampment safe it will be him. Let’s focus on setting up a place for triage further in the forest. After all this everyone will need it.”

You helped usher the remaining patients down the slippery hills of the forest to a natural basin near another river outlet closer to Yuji’s kingdom. The screams of those fighting over the ashes of the old campsite echoed to where you had found yourselves. Your heart ached thinking of Yuji fighting, maybe being heavily outnumbered and you wondered if you’d done the right thing by sending him off.

You busied yourself by the end of the first day purifying drinking water and gathering ingredients for healing potions. Some of the patients had sustained burns and you had to quickly find natural remedies in a forest you had barely gotten to know. Others worked on using their magic to create temporary rock and mud huts for patients. When you’d found just about all you could make sense of in the forest’s herbs you headed back and sat on the river bank. The fight raged on even into the night. That gave you some hope the Yuji was still out there fighting. Enough to get you through the next day.

In the morning you were the first up. Catching fish in the river and pounding wild nuts and berries into edible porridge. You’d made a large fire to cook and were careful to cast a smoke concealment spell. The head nurse woke up to you using a giant stick to stir the massive amount of porridge and fish roasting on the sides. You looked like you’d thoroughly lost your mind.

But the smell drew everyone from their huts and away from their miserable night rest. Once everyone had eaten their fill patient daily care was still at the forefront. You directed your fellow nurses to plants with antiseptic properties whose leaves could be used as bandages for the time being and crafted potions with yesterday’s work. And in the night you repeated the same as the morning. You’d brought all the nurses up to speed and everyone fell into their roles once again. The battle could still be heard. When particularly devastating attacks occurred you’d see mass flocks of birds scattering overhead to escape the atrocities. But as long as it continued your people would remain.

The third day was uneventful and fatiguing for all at the camp. In their down time a lot of the nurses watched you pace back and forth working like someone had lit you on fire. The head nurse had to pry you off a tree you’d attempted to climb to get more leaves. But in your sleep deprived state you missed a foothold and fell down. She coaxed you into a mud hut to get some rest which is where you stayed even through dinner. At some point you’d managed to fall asleep and woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of crickets and fire crackling. For a moment you allowed yourself to take in the natural ambiance before you shot up from the ground. The fighting had ended.

“Oh gods.” you whispered to yourself as you clumsily pushed your fatigued body off the ground and out of the hut.

You stumbled out to the haunting forest. The battle was done but you couldn't be sure who won. Part of you nearly began to mourn Yuji until you were startled from your thoughts by the sound of sloshing mud and leaves drawing closer from the forest. You clasped your hand to your face and hid around the corner of the hut, if need be you would wake the others and try quietly to get away.

As the heavy steps grew closer you began to make out the figure of a lone man. The moonlight only illuminated him in slivers at a time. Once it brushed upon his bloodied face and you saw the pink hair peakout through dried blood you stepped out from your hiding spot.

“Yuji” you gasped, stepping toward the bush he was slowly making his way over. His head was bowed from exhaustion. It was a miracle he made it to your camp with his injuries. You caught him just as he tripped out into the basin front. A small part of you wanted to be mad at him for taking on such a foolhardy battle, the other was mad at yourself for letting him. But that was all overshadowed by the immense joy you felt from him having returned in one piece.

You looked up as you heard more zombie-like steps creeping through the forest towards you. You hugged Yuji's now sleeping form against yourself, not sure of what you could do. Soon soldiers wearing the crest of the Itadori kingdom began emerging from the forest. Each as bloodied and bruised as their prince. You finally placed yuji down gently when you saw commander Nobara stumble through with the last set of soldiers. You caught her as well and placed her down gently before going to get the other healers of your clan.

Everyone worked through the night to pull the soldiers through. With healers stretched thin the head nurse walked over to you wordlessly and handed you a wand. Something only the most recognized and talented of your clan get the honor of wielding. You quietly rejoiced as you walked over to the remaining horde of soldiers that needed attending to.

When dawn broke the streaks of blood from soldiers marching to their last salvation were illuminated. The camp was lively with those who’d only endured extreme exhaustion and doctors rushing to care for those in more critical cases. Once you took care of your most critical patients you whisked through the camp looking for Yuji, the head nurse had decided to take him under her care as he wasn’t at 100% to begin with. As you approached her tent you heard hushed voices.

“Excuse me.” You spoke softly before entering the tent. You looked around to see Yuji sitting in bed, some dried blood still stained his skin. And the head nurse brewing a pain reliever. “Sorry I just came to see how he was doing.” You were hoarse from exhaustion.

“Glad I'm not the only one who looks like hell.” He smiled, thoroughly wrapped in plant fiber bandages and propped on pillows.

“The leader of your enemy has been defeated, but some of his men still remain at this camp. It is not our place to get involved in these matters.” The head nurse spoke to both of you.

“I completely understand, I would never ask your people to compromise their values for my sake. I believe a short prison sentence after they've healed will be enough to satisfy me.” He really sounded like he'd been on the throne his whole life.

“Yes well that may take a while”

“After dealing with my own injuries I've learned to be patient.” Yuji's grin turned into a wince.

The head nurse shooed his hand that instinctively went to his injury and used her wand to lessen the pain.

“(Y/N) the medicine.” She nodded to you.

You made your way over to her work station and waved the supplementary wand that still hadn't been taken away over the pot to complete the medicine. It glowed like gold in the dingy wooden pot. You brought it over to where Yuji was fighting a coughing fit, for fear of displacing his ribs. Once he got some of the medicine down he wearily settled back into the pillows.

“Hopefully this time I leave him in your care he'll make a full recovery.” She winked and left the tent to the two of you.

<<<prev

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: M6 with an insomniac MC

Julian

No way, him too!

This can go two ways. These two ways are not mutually exclusive

The first is the shared suffering. You're suffering. He's suffering. He will wallow in your suffering with you

He knows how miserable being permanently sleep-deprived is and will take this as his sign to scour his books for sleeping aids

Tests everything out on both of you. Himself first if it seems a little shady

The second is the shared 2 AM hyper obsession with an obscure area of knowledge. Or a passionate debate of conspiracy theories

All it takes is one of you quietly wondering aloud whether faeries use birds in battle the way humans use horses, and if so what kind, for the conversation to take hold

Nobody can come up with theories as rapid fire as he can

Your friends know to be concerned when there is multiple nights' evidence of brainstorming covering loose sheets of paper scattered about the house

Sometimes Julian struggles between being your doctor and your enabler. You will have to decide for him

Every night he tries to fall asleep with you romantically tangled in his limbs. Every night he tosses and turns so much it's impossible

Asra

They cannot relate. At all

He loves sleeping. Sleeping is one of his superpowers. He can fall asleep anytime, anywhere, in any position. He can't image a life otherwise

At first, they try to keep you company whenever you can't sleep, but it quickly becomes obvious that they won't be able to sustain that without also suffering greatly and you hate doing that to him

He also tries getting you to nap with him

They quickly learn that insomnia is not only active at night and that makes you grumpy

There are now three solutions: the first is a series of light sleeping enchantments that he will only use at your request

The second is that they stay up with you during the night to make whatever mischief your heart desires and spend the next day dozing. They tend to travel at night anyways

The third requires some practice, but he teaches you how to enter his dreams. It leaves your body in a sleeping state and lets you spend time together without waking him up

Their dreams are beautiful. They reflect all the marvelous things they've seen, and you're welcomed there with all the love they have for you

He falls asleep with his head or hand on your heartbeat with a smile every night, waiting for you to meet him in his dreams

Nadia

She can relate, for different reasons

It wasn't uncommon for her headaches and prophetic dreams to keep her awake for several nights on end. Being unable to sleep is akin to torture for her

She already has a collection of sleep remedies to try with you. Don't hold back, she will spare no expense to help you rest

She's still getting used to sharing a bed with someone through the night (Lucio had his own wing), but she finds it quite useful to be present for you. And she likes being that close to you for that long

However, there is one small difficulty. She's learned the value of rest the hard way, and because of that she hates being woken up with a passion

The first time you tossed and turned so much that you woke her up on accident, she sent you a full death glare before realizing who woke her up, and how, and why

She still apologizes to you for that

Now she keeps an adjacent chamber stocked with all sorts of calming teas and soothing activities, so you don't have to lie awake completely unloved in the dark

She leaves a light on in there so if she wakes up and can't feel you she can peek over and know you're still nearby

She has the most beautiful voice, and will insist on holding you to her chest as she sings you to sleep each night

Muriel

Sleep was his greatest escape as an orphan on the streets of Vesuvia. Being denied of that escape sounds like cruel and unusual punishment

He's willing to keep you company, but he's a very heavy sleeper and therefore quite difficult to wake up

That, and being woken up is mildly triggering for him. He half expects it to be the gang that used to chase him around

It's easy to underestimate how observant he is. It's not obvious at first, but he's able to quickly pick up on what kinds of days result in a better night's sleep and start subtly nudging you towards them

You fall asleep faster when you've been more physically active. He's inviting you on his patrols around the forest

You get less agitated in the night when you've already done some hard thinking. He collects riddles from Asra and spends evenings solving them with you (nothing so impossible that is keeps you up though)

Your dreams are better when your surroundings are pleasant. He revamps the bed and crafts a few wind chimes to hang outside the window

Inanna keeps you company through the night

He's worried about crushing you, so he just throws an arm over you when it's time to sleep and dozes off to your quiet breathing

Portia

She moves nonstop, all day, every day

Which means that she's one of those people who drops straight into a deep sleep as soon as her head hits the pillow

She's not that hard to wake up, but if she hasn't had her eight hours she's a bumbling, groggy mess

Nobody is more annoyed by this than she is. As sympathetic as she is to your condition, the idea of a powerful magician tortured awake through the night by their own body and mind as they sit broodingly by a darkened hearth is too exciting to pass up

She tries to stay up with you. She really does. She does not succeed

But she can still keep you cozy

She hides little baked treats around the house in Pepi-proof containers with a different riddle for a different location each night

Every morning when she wakes up she checks the box to know right away whether you had a good night's sleep

If you didn't eat it she'll share it with you at breakfast

Pepi is also very comforting. She'll lie on your belly and purr when you can't sleep, or follow you around as you hunt for the pastries in the night

Portia's an aggressive cuddler whose hold gets tighter as the night progresses. It can take quite some effort to escape

Lucio

Staying up late? Hell yeah, it's party time!

What do you mean you don't like being awake late? What do you mean you have trouble sleeping??

Staying up late is easy for him, but so is sleeping in. He has no idea what chronic sleep deprivation is like and is incapable of wrapping his head around it

He starts to get a better picture the more time he spends around you. You're obviously miserable after rough nights and you always look better after getting a nap in

The only way he knows how to make people sleep is by knocking them out, and he doesn't want to do that to you

He's tempted to suggest drinking heavily every night but that sounds like an oopsie just waiting to happen

But he wants to do something

So he relentlessly tells you to stop and sleep whenever you show the slightest signs of exhaustion and guards you from anything that could wake you

This includes throwing a fit every time you yawn and don't immediately lie down

It also includes him carrying light-blocking material in his pack, asking every traveling doctor about sleep aids, and keeping Mercedes and Melchior from playing too loudly while you nap

He prefers to be the little spoon, but he'll switch it up if it'll help you get comfy

[atlafan]

1963 - Part 1

a/n: I have been dying to share this with yall and I'm so excited to finally be doing that. As per usual, this is the only part that will be posted here on Tumblr.All other parts will be posted on Patreon. In fact, Part 2 is already up! And Part 3 will be posted Friday.

Please consider joining my Patreon. It's only $5 a month, and it charges you the following month on the date you joined. So, if you signed up today, you wouldn't get charged again until January 10th. I post 2-4 times per month. If anything is under 10K words, that's usually when I'll post more. I depend on this extra income to help pay bills for essentials. The community there is also incredible and I write and post some of my nastiest smut on there, so if that's what you're looking for, you'll get it!

Warnings: mentions of infertility

Words: 3.8K

Patreon I Patreon Masterlist I Tumblr Masterlist I Ask

“Every month I keep hoping I’ll have different news for you two,” Doctor Simmons sighed, “unfortunately, I have the same news. Beverly still isn’t with child.”

“We’ve been trying for five months, we’ve been doing everything you’ve said. Beverly drinks the teas, she lays with her legs up after we’re done, I don’t know what else we can do.” Robert was exasperated at this point. He was squeezing his wife’s hand, desperately trying not to let any tears escape his eye ducts.

“You two have exhausted all natural remedies, so I think it’s time we consider IVF.”

Beverly’s eyes widened, and she squeezed Robert’s hand back. She looked at him, panicked.

“Beverly is terribly afraid of needles.”

“You don’t need to decide on anything right now. Take these pamphlets and look over the information. If you two want to have a baby of your own, then this may be the next step.”

“We’ll look it over and have an answer by our next appointment.”

Robert and Beverly are silent on the drive home from the doctor’s office. They’re silent on their way back into their home. Beverly goes right to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Robert comes up next to her and puts her hand over hers.

“We should read the literature on IVF.” He said.

“I have friends who have done it, and all it has done is make their hormones crazy, and not in a fun way. I really don’t want to, Robert. I’ve done everything else, please don’t make me do this.”

“It feels like sometimes I’m the only one who wants to have a baby.”

“How could you say something like that to me? If I’m infertile-“

“You’re not, though. Doctor Simmons has run every type of blood test on you.”

“I know, I was there when the nurse was drawing it after you accused me of secretly taking birth control pills.”

“Well, with how apprehensive you were about having your diaphragm removed, I had to make sure you weren’t doing any self-sabotage.”

“Maybe I’m not getting pregnant because my body knows you don’t trust me.”

“I do trust you, you just weren’t exactly thrilled to start trying.”

“You sprung it on me, I was surprised. We never really discussed having kids before we got married.”

“Sweetheart, why would two people get married if not to have kids?” He chuckled.

“That’s not why I married you. I married you because I love you and I want to be with you.”

“I love you and want to be with you too. But if I hadn’t wanted kids, we could have just shacked up in an apartment in the city. I bought us a house in the suburbs so you could keep house and raise our kids. You like being a housewife, you’ve told me as much.”

“I do. I like making your meals and keeping things tidy, but I also like my free time. I like to go have brunch with the other ladies, and I like going to the library to check out new film analysis journals, and I like being able to go to the movies in the middle of the day. Having a baby means I can’t do those things anymore. At least, not until it’s old enough to go to school. That’s five solid years I’d be putting on hold. And within that five years, I could have at least two more kids. So, now I’m thirty-one with three kids under the age of five, and oh yeah, I’ll still be expected to keep the house clean and cook all your meals and pleasure you even though everything between my legs will feel like sandpaper.”

Robert eyes his wife, then puckers his lips in thought. “Is that how you’ve really been feeling? You haven’t said a word.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you. You’re not easy to talk to these days. Every time I reach for my clip-belt for my sanitary napkins, I can see you watching with such sadness in your eyes. Motherhood is scary. My friends tell me these horror stories about childbirth. Their husbands barely take a week off from work to be home with them and the baby. So, we’re expected to push these kids out, then get up the next day and get back to our usual routines.”

“Beverly, you’re worried about things women have been doing since the beginning of time. Don’t be such a child. The fear of needles I can understand, but the fear of being a mother makes no sense. I know you and your mother have a strained relationship, but that doesn’t mean history will repeat itself.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “If we’re not pregnant by our next appointment with Doctor Simmons, then I would like us to start IVF. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Good.” He looked at the ingredients on the counter and grimaced. “I don’t want meatloaf tonight, make something else instead.”

“Yes, dear.”

“I’m gonna go to my office, have a beer, and listen to the ball game. Let me know when dinner is on the table.”

“Yes, dear.”

Robert smiled, grabbed a beer out of the fridge, and walked out of the kitchen. Beverly took a deep breath and rummaged through her cabinets to see what else she could possibly whip up for dinner. It needs to be something heavy enough that Robert won’t feel like making love before bed. Beverly doesn’t have it in her to put on a performance tonight.

**

Most people get married to have kids. Beverly married Robert because she loved him. He wanted to take care of her. But when the honeymoon phase ended, and he stopped saying thank you to her for all of the things she did to take care of him, she grew resentful. She never let on about it. Robert didn’t need to know how she really felt. Opening up the way she did the day prior wasn’t normal. Things had been good between them for a long time. Beverly didn’t mind stepping into the role of a stay-at-home wife. She was college educated, but it wasn’t like she’d ever be able to carry a position in the profession of her desire. And since she didn’t want to be a schoolteacher or a nurse, Robert asked her to stay home to tend to the house he had bought for them.

At twenty-three, she really hadn’t minded. They met in college, as so many young couples do, and it was love at first sight. Their courtship was disgustingly romantic, and their wedding was a dream come true. The honeymoon phase was so sickly sweet. Beverly enjoyed making breakfast for Robert before he left for work. She enjoyed sending him on his way. She had the whole day to herself. She’d tend to her various gardens, and she’d make sure the house was clean. She’d meet up with friends for brunch. She did everything a good wife was supposed to do.

At twenty-six, Beverly feels like she’s on autopilot. She can’t help but wonder if the reason why older couples have designated sex nights is because the wives must need the six days in between to psych themselves up. She also can’t help but wonder if this is why so many older couples opt for twin beds that can be pushed together or pulled apart.

And it’s not that Beverly doesn’t want kids, she thinks it could be fun, but she’s petrified of essentially raising a child by herself. Robert will stroll in from work, bounce the baby on his knee for all of two minutes, and call it a night. She’s scared for all the reasons she tried to explain the day prior. Robert also didn’t give Beverly a choice five months ago…

“I was thinking of maybe enrolling in graduate school.” Beverly brought up one morning over breakfast. Robert had nearly choked on his toast. “I know what you’re thinking, but you wouldn’t have to pay for a thing. They have stipends for students. I could teach while I learn.”

“I thought you didn’t want to teach.”

“I didn’t want to teach children, but something about having high level discussions with college students makes teaching sound like fun. I miss being in school.”

“What’s the point of a graduate degree in film and media? It’s not like you can do anything with it.”

“A graduate degree could lead to a doctorate, and I could keep teaching. I know female professors are few and far between, especially in the world of film, but it is possible.”

“So, you want to be a career woman, is that what you’re saying?”

“Not exactly. Classes wouldn’t take up all my time. I’d still be able to cook and clean and do everything I’m doing now. Except now when I go to the library, I’ll be doing schoolwork instead of reading for leisure.”

“Seems like you have it all figured out already.”

“Well, I wanted to show you I had thought it all through, that I was serious. You got your graduate degree. If you hadn’t, we never would have met.”

“Exactly. What if some older professor comes on to you? You’d have no way to protect yourself.”

“Oh, Robert, I’ve gone this long without something horrible happening to me on a college campus, I think I’d be fine. Besides, all I’d need to do is show off the lovely rings on my finger.” She grinned. “No one would mess with a married woman whose husband can afford a diamond like this.”

“Did you already sign up for a course?”

“Of course not. I wanted to speak with you first.”

“Good.” He finished his breakfast. “Let me think on it.”

“Alright. Anything in particular you want for dinner tonight?”

“Actually, I was thinking we could go out tonight. I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

“Oh? For what?”

“Does a husband need a reason to treat his wife to a romantic evening?”

“No.” She giggled. “I’m just excited at the prospect of a spontaneous date night. I’ll pick out a dress I haven’t worn in a while, so it feels like new.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” He stood and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll call you before I leave work, so you’ll know when to expect me.”

“Okay, have a good day, dear.”

Beverly was excited. A night out was a positive sign. Robert wouldn’t take her out just to give her bad news. He was going to say yes to her going back to school.

The restaurant Robert took Beverly to was ritzy. He danced with her, ordered an expensive bottle of wine, and kissed on her shoulder and neck while he sat next to her in their booth. That sickly sweet feeling Beverly thought might be gone was sparking again. When the cheesecake came out, they fed each other bites. It was adorable.

“Are you having a good time tonight?” He asked.

“Yes, this has been such a wonderful evening. Thank you for taking me here.”

“You’re welcome, Bev.” He put his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately, and our conversation this morning was the kick in the pants I needed, so I’m really glad you brought up graduate school.”

“I’m glad it was a positive conversation.” She smiled. “What’s been on your mind?”

“I think it’s time we started trying for a baby.” All of the color drained from Beverly’s face, but her smile never wavered. She couldn’t let on how disappointed she was. “You’re clearly bored with the amount of free time on your hands. I know school seemed like a fun thing to do to pass the time, but I think we’ve waited long enough. We’ll be married almost four years soon, I think we know what we’re doing in the bedroom by now. So, next week, I’m taking you to the doctor to have your diaphragm removed-“

“You called my doctor about something like that?”

“I know it’s a bit awkward, but it’s not a secret that you have one. I went with you when you got it, I should be with you when you have it taken out.”

“Robert…I don’t like that it feels like you’re not giving me a choice. What if I’m not ready?”

“It’s not that you don’t have a choice, I’m just stating that it’s time. You take care of me just fine, you’ll be a great mother. This is what I would rather you do than go back to school. Besides, think of the fun we’ll have while we’re working at it. I got excited at work today thinking about it. I was hoping tonight could be a test run.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I love you so much, Bev, I wanna turn that love into a physical being.”

“Yeah, um, that makes perfect sense. Let’s…let’s make a baby.”

“Really?” He asked, elated.

“Yes, dear.”

Robert kissed his wife. He kissed her in the car. He kissed her on the way into their home, up the stairs, and into their bedroom. He made love to his wife, then called it a night.

After getting her diaphragm removed, they waited until after her next period was done to start trying. This gave Beverly plenty of time to figure out how she could avoid pregnancy. She needed to keep some semblance of control over her own body. Robert wasn’t going to tell her when she was ready. She could decide that on her own.

Lysol douching didn’t work, she knew this. Her sister told her as much. Some of her friends offered her their birth control pills, but she knew they’d show up on a blood test, which Robert made sure she had after the second month of her still not having gotten pregnant. Beverly may have studied film, but she was an excellent student in biology and chemistry as well. She knew how condoms worked. They were coated in spermicides. She just needed to figure out how to coat her vagina with it. She bought condoms and squeezed all of the lubricant and spermicide off them and got a good amount into a bottle. She mixed it with olive oil, what ancient Greeks used to use, and douched with that before having sex with Robert. She knew it would be a long shot if it worked, but she had to try.

When the third month came along, and she still wasn’t pregnant, she took solace is knowing her little concoction was working. And because Robert never went down on her, he’d never smell or taste a thing. When he used his fingers, he just thought she was extra wet, which made him feel proud of himself.

She was perfectly content with her plans until the topic of IVF came up. Even the harshest of solutions couldn’t stand up to IVF injections. She never felt bad for lying to Robert because she didn’t like that he had become so controlling, but she also didn’t think she’d be doing this for so long. The thought of her giving her body up didn’t sound any more appealing five months later.

What was she going to do?

**

“I really think that one is gonna be a winner.” Robert sighed happily as he relaxed into the bed, looking over at Beverly as she lay with her legs in the air. “I’m glad we waited a couple of days in between, feels like my boys swam stronger.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly closed her eyes and tried to breathe steadily, counting down the minutes until she could go use the bathroom and cleanse herself.

“I had an idea today. I really want to spare you from having to be injected with needles. I’m a good husband, and good husbands protect their wives. So, since we have about five weeks until our next appointment, I thought we could try one last natural method.”

“I’m listening.” She turned her head to look at him, intrigued.

“I overheard some ladies talking in the break room this morning. It’s the one good thing about having so many female secretaries. Anyways, they happened to be discussing various issues with conceiving. One of them said they had a friend who got pregnant the second she and her husband stopped focusing so much on it. The wife threw herself into different projects, and a month or so later, she was pregnant.”

“Wait.” She sat up on her elbows. “Are you saying I can enroll in a graduate course after all?”

“What, no.” He laughed. “No, I was thinking we could finally redo the patio and have that pool you’ve wanted put in. You’ve been talking about wanting to host more parties for our friends. You always do so well with the workers when we have something done here, and you love gardening. I think you’d really enjoy overseeing a landscaping project.”

“Let me get this straight: you would rather pay thousands of dollars to have our backyard redone, than pay a couple of hundred for me to enroll in a course?”

“I think school would be too stressful. If you’re stressed, then you definitely won’t conceive. Overseeing a project that puts you outside in the sun will be a win-win. Not to mention an old friend of mine is willing to give us a deal on the work.”

“You have a friend that’s a landscaper?”

“Yeah, this guy from my old neighborhood took over his father’s business. He said he could swing by Saturday to take a look at things.”

“It sounds like you’ve already decided that this is what we’re doing.”

“That’s because I have.” He grinned proudly. “Bev, when we got married, I promised to take care of you. This is me taking care of you. Not all husbands would do something like this for their wives. You could at least pretend to be grateful.”

“I am grateful, I’m sorry if my tone suggested otherwise. What time Saturday is he coming over?”

“That I left up to you. I didn’t know if you had any errands or plans with the ladies.”

“Oh.” Well, at least he was trying to be considerate. “Maybe around three? That would give me time to pick up the dry cleaning and stop at the market.”

“Three is perfect. I’ll give him a call tomorrow to let him know.” He looked down at his watch. “You should be good to use the bathroom now.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly lowers her legs and slings her robe on. Once she’s in the bathroom, she locks the door and flips on the fan. She rummages around in the back of the sink-cabinet until she finds her douching solution. She used some prior to having sex with her husband, but she likes to use it after for good measure. She bites into the heel of her palm as she cleanses herself. It tends to sting from time to time. When she’s done, she looks at herself in the mirror. She knows she can’t keep doing this to herself. She just doesn’t know what else to do.

**

Beverly loves her weekend clothes. There’s something so freeing about slipping on a pair of high-waist capris, a sleeveless button-up that ties in the front, and a pair of flats. She usually gardens after running her errands, and this is what she typically wears to garden. Robert hates it when Beverly wears pants, or anything form fitting, in public. Why should anyone else be privy to how round her bum is, or how full her thighs are? She’s got a body like Marilyn’s, and that’s something he prefers to keep under wraps.

When the landscaping van pulls up out front, Beverly is in the front yard, planting and mulching. She has the radio going, so she doesn’t pay any mind to the sound of an engine turning off. The man in the landscaping van tilted his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, getting a better glimpse of Beverly. Robert starts walking over, so the man gets out of his van, rounding it to meet his old friend.

“Harry.” Robert smiled and shook the man’s, Harry, hand. “Can you believe it? Got a nice house in a suburb just like the one we grew up in.”

“I never doubted you’d get everything you wanted.” Harry smiled back.

“Seems like the Navy treated you well.”

“Yeah, I can’t complain too much. I didn’t get blown up or lose a limb.”

“And now you own your father’s business. Sorry for your loss, by the way. That’s the drawback of inheritance.”

“Yep. You working for your father?”

“Yes, and proud of it. I’ve got an office with a view, and I can afford to live more than comfortably. Got a beautiful wife, too.” Robert looked around. “Beverly, c’mere!” Beverly stood and dusted off her trousers before making her way over to the two men. “Harry, this is my Beverly.” He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Clark.”

“Likewise, Mr…”

“Styles.” He points behind him with his thumb. “Of Styles Landscaping.”

“Right, of course.”

“Your husband told me you were hoping to have some work done in the backyard.”

“Yes, we’d like the patio redone and to have a pool put in, if possible.”

“Let’s show Harry to the back.” Robert said as he led his wife to the back. Harry followed close behind.

As Beverly observes Harry observing her yard, she can’t help but feel confused. How is this man a friend of Robert’s? Harry’s t-shirt is stretched tight over his chest, not to mention how beefy and muscular his biceps are. His arms are also littered with tattoos.

It takes about twenty minutes for Harry to look around, take some measurements, and get a feel for the land.

“Alright, I can come back on Tuesday with some different mockups of what can be done back here. I can bring my portfolio too, so you can look at some of my past projects. Does Tuesday work for you, Mrs. Clark? I’m assuming you’ll be the one home.”

“Yes, the early afternoon works for me, Mr. Styles.”

“Perfect.” Robert clapped his hands. “H, come in for a bit. We can have a couple beers and catch up while Bev does her gardening out front.”

“Sounds good to me.” Harry nodded, and Robert started to make his way inside. For a split second, Harry tilted his sunglasses down to look at Beverly. “It was nice meeting, Mrs. Clark.” He winked and smirked before catching up with Robert.

Beverly felt her cheeks heat up. She turned and watched Harry walk into her home. Why did he wink at her like that? And why did it make her feel like she just got a B-12 shot?

She shook it off and made her way out front. Gardening will help her clear her head. She’s a married woman. A friend of Robert’s wouldn’t flirt with a married woman…would he?

[fandomohana]

So, I'm on my period, and I've been cramping like a son of a...I think we could all use some sweet, gentle Eddie love, when the uterus is engaging in a full mutiny.

As always, unless otherwise stated, this is part of the 1986 Will Be Their Year, universe.

Literally whipped this up on my phone, all mistakes are mine.

18+ Minors do not interact!

--------------------

Eddie's princess was on her period. His fierce warrior lay curled in on herself in his bed, groaning quietly in pain. His heart aches with every little whimper that comes from the cocoon of clothes. He hated seeing her in any kind of pain, especially pain he couldn't vanquish. What he could do, was curl in behind her, and gently rub her back.

This was the position the pair found themselves in, when Eddie had a thought. He knew orgasms released endorphins, and that that magnificent chemical could reduce pain. His only problem was her dislike of the idea of full period sex, but this was quickly remedied when he remembered how much she enjoyed riding his thighs.

With a kiss to her temple, he shifted away from her, moving to the head of the bed, leaning against the wall with his legs stretched in front of him. He brushes two fingers across the loose hair covering her face, "C'mere, baby." He murmers as he urges her up. A look of confusion crosses her face, as she looks into his doe eyes, "Gonna make you feel good."

She shuffles up the bed, Eddie stopping her short, and urging her up to her knees. He quickly popped the button of her jeans, and began to shimmy them down her thick thighs. As if reading her mind, Eddie reassures her, "Gonna give you a thigh ride, make that pain go away." He mumbles into her neck, before helping her to step out of the jeans, and onto his thigh.

She buries her face in his neck, whimpering as another cramp racks her body. Eddie's hands find her soft, full backside, taking a handful of each cheek, and slowly moving her hips to grind her pussy against him. "Take what you need, sweetheart." His voice never rises from a whisper, helping her to grind down on him, until she feels strong enough.

Soft praises fall from his lips as she begins to move on her own, his hands turning to her thick thighs. Her pleasure is his pleasure, the puffs of warm air rushing past his neck as she begins to grind faster. Moans and whimpers escape her pretty lips, he can feel them reverberate against his skin, driving him wild. But this isn't about Eddie, he won't feel good until she feels good.

His name falls from her lips like a prayer, hitting his ears like an angel chorus. He can feel her thighs clenching against him as she chases her release, lost in the pleasure he so happily gives her.

Eddie has played her body often enough to know the signs of her impending release. He snakes his hands up, and over her wide hips, past her full breasts, and urges her head up. He will never get enough of the way she looks when she is sex drunk, and fucked out. She looks like an angel, sweat breaking out on her beautiful face, hair sticking to her skin.

He presses his forehead to hers, "Eyes on me, pretty girl." Their eyes lock as Eddie urges her forward, "Come on, let go, baby, cum for me." He always knows what to say to push her over the edge. He feels her tense, sees the look of ecstasy come over her face as a long, whimpery moan rips from her lips.

"That's my good girl." He softly kisses her lips as she rides out her climax, body softly jumping as her body comes down from the rush of orgasm.

As Eddie is about to cuddle her close to him, he feels her scamper away from him, removing herself from his lap in horror. Confused, he looks into her eyes, they had done this many times before, had he done something?

Before Eddie could ask, she spoke softly, fear still tingeing her words, "oh god...did I bleed on you?" Her eyes are wide with fear, she had truly let herself go while she ground on his thighs, had she dislodged her pad? How horrifying it would be to bleed on the man you love! She searches frantically for any sign of stain.

Understanding dawns on Eddie's face, as he draws her back into him. "I don't care if you bled on me, baby. I know for a fact I bled all over you when you were pulling me through that hellhole." He rubs his thumbs against her cheeks, urging her face up. "This is part of you, it means your body is working as it's supposed to, it's not gross, or embarrassing. Shit, blood comes out, and all I care about is making you feel good. You're worth more than all my damn clothes." He smiles at her, before planting a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. "I love you, Princess. Not some sanitized, bullshit idea of you."

Her eyes swim in unshed tears, as a smile pulls the corners of her lips. "I love you too, Eddie Munson. Crazy, unfiltered, wonderful you."

A look of fake horror crosses his face, "Did you just call me crazy?!" He gently tosses her across the bed, before covering her giggling form with his own, "I'll show you crazy!" He covers her face in kisses, as her laughter fills the small room.

Eddie Munson never believed he'd find his soulmate, but she was here, and he would do anything to keep her laughing the rest of her life.

[sinfulsalutations]

𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕜 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕙

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴛᴇᴄʜ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ꜱʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ. ꜱʜᴇ'ʟʟ ʟᴇᴛ ʜɪᴍ ʙʟᴀʙ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ɪɴ ʀᴇᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ. ɪᴛ'ꜱ ɪᴛꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴏᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ, ʜɪꜱ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴄᴜᴛᴇꜱʏ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ, ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ (ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀ)ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ, ʜᴜʀᴛ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀɪᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴇꜱʜᴇʀ, ᴛᴇᴄʜ ʜᴀꜱ ᴀᴅʜᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴀʟᴋꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇꜱᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 2.4ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ɪ ᴀᴍ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴇʟꜰ ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴛ. ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴀ ꜱʜɪᴛ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴄʀɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴛᴏᴅᴀʏ ɪ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀꜱᴛ ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍꜱ. ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ, ɪ ꜰɪʀᴍʟʏ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴇᴄʜ ɪꜱ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʙʙ ɪꜱ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴏɴ ʜɪᴀᴛᴜꜱ ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴍᴜꜱᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʜᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ᴀʀᴍꜱ. ɪᴅᴋ ɪꜰ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟꜱᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏʀ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀꜱ ɪ ᴅᴏ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ. ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ :)

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

It’s suffocating.

Everything is too much, not stimulating enough, too little, too... everything. She's cradling herself like a baby, a whiny little kid, grasping herself, gripping it with sharp nails, leaving deep, deep marks all over her skin. The claustrophobic air cages her in, she is trapped, she is trying to escape, and now it taints her.

But maybe she’s just overreacting. That must be it. That’s why she feels stupid and silly. Like a little kid stomping their foot when they don't get their way. Being dramatic over little things. Just little things she's upset about; little, little, minuscule things that had piled up, slowly until it was too much. It's too much. It's all so much that she's so little, so small in her own arms pressed up against the `fresher wall, barely able to hold herself up with wobbly knees as she cries.

Silently. So so silently. 

She can’t be a burden. It would be insultingly rude, to put that responsibility of her happiness on the people letting her stay on their ship. Clone Force 99 is incredibly hospitable to her. Too kind. They gave her a cot and food, company and kindness in exchange for her expertise in medicine. She is an asset. She is useful. And when she isn't?

That, she can't be certain. Not everyone is the same, she knows that. But she won't risk it. Not when she's become attached to their little family. Hunter is always endlessly caring, even if she is closer to a stranger than family to him. Wrecker immediately took a liking to her, even if she did have a softer voice and disposition. It took Echo a little longer to warm up to her, but enough restless nights for the both of them to talk about their lives before joining the batch had brought the two as close as she was with the rest. And she simply adored Omega; from her curiosity and optimism, even to her brash stubbornness.

And Tech... she couldn't imagine a day not getting to see his face, hear him talk about anything and everything he has learned and studied. His voice was another form of remedy. Perhaps it might help with this frustration... 

Knowing all of this, she won't take a chance at losing it. She wants to stay somewhere, for once. She's not going to kriff it up this time. 

She tries to bottle it up. She sniffles once, twice, before grabbing a dry towel and dabbing it in water, softly wiping away at her tears in the mirror until her reddened cheeks blend nicely with the rest of her complexion. Once she feels fully satisfied with the way she looks, she blinks away any remaining water droplets that litter her eyelashes like raindrops on leaves and tries her best to smile in the mirror. 

Everything is okay, she thinks. It’ll be fine.

She’s still relieved, however, that most of the batch isn’t currently on the ship. Usually, she would have gone off to Cid's and maybe grab a drink before listening, as always, to what the smart little trooper had to say. Hunter has caught on and began leaving the two in their strange, dorky little bubble tucked into a little booth, her open ears and his excited chatter.

Today, the only person who didn't go back to Cid's (or to chomp on Mantell Mix) is her and Tech, who works on damage inflicted on the outside of the Marauder. They've just got back from a rather chaotic attempt to retrieve some goods from a back-alley planet Cid sent them to. Wrecker was able to secure the crates, but not without a gang of pirates firing old-fashioned arrows in his direction until they tore at the exterior and into the inner mechanics of the ship. And as usual, Tech insisted to stay back and fix it all by himself (You all could have the rest, he said).

She wouldn’t say she was most particularly fond of Tech, but that would be a bald-faced lie; she loved all of the boys like they were her brothers. Though, perhaps with him it is different. Just perhaps. Perhaps, right? Unless it was more- kriff, it probably is.

Especially ever since she saw him without his goggles for the first time; she was able to see that hue of brown that colored his eyes so well. He was rubbing his eyes and yawning as he went to clean them, and he hadn’t even noticed her ogling eyes from a few feet away. Omega certainly did. And asked her about it the next chance she got. 

“Do you like Tech?” 

When she didn't respond, she only kept nagging.

"You do like Tech, don't you?"

"That's why you like to look at him so much, right?"

Yeah. She loves the kid, but her endless questions did end up getting to her. So Omega might have given her a cheeky look when she said she was going to stay back as well. Oh, if that was the only reason she had decided not to come along with the rest.

But it all leads to right now, admiring him from afar while leaning against the open ramp. It takes him a moment to notice, still very focused on the task at hand, on his knees in front of an open panel and he quickly turns, blinking rapidly in succession and in surprise. 

“Oh-” He begins, before quickly clearing his throat and continuing, acting less shocked than before. He adds her name quickly in before, and treads so lightly on it too, as if he was unsure if he was allowed to call her by that. “Hello. I forgot you stayed back.”

She chuckles lightly and walks closer to where he worked, watching his clever and dexterous fingers move swiftly. 

“So I’m that quiet?”

He shrugs.

“You can be swift when it requires you to be,” He observes, finally looking up into her eyes. The look he gives her, one of full undivided attention, makes her heart miss a couple of notes on the staff. He continues without noticing her hitched breath. “But I wouldn’t say you are… quiet .”

She grins, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Her eyes are still heavy with the remnants of her tears. 

“Yeah,” she mumbles, leaning back onto the Marauder and sighing, her eyes fluttering close. She tries to relax, really does, but it's hard to when Tech was right there. He still watches her and stills completely, as if he was trying to pinpoint the exact feeling on her face. “Do you mind if I just sit here?” She finally asks, eyes still closed.

With that, Tech blinks again, quickly composing himself and looking away once she opens her eyes again to appear as though he hasn’t been staring at her. He nods.

“Of course.”

She hums sweetly like a hummingbird in response and tries to get more comfortable, slowly sliding down until her bottom promptly hits the floor and she is level with his crotch, as he still kneels to gain access to the inside of the ship. And she watches for just a little, the only noise filling their bubble the noise of fuses and bolts twisting and loosening, the occasional clang of two pieces of metal here and there, even a long strenuous creak from the larger panel dismantled. He doesn't talk. She doesn't talk.

It might be quite boring in any other situation, one where she isn't feeling so helplessly overworked and burned out, or in general to any other person in her shoes, but it feels so calming just to watch. To observe and not have to react. Just be without any strings attached. His presence is calming. It’s fascinating. When she just watches him, it is uncomplicated. It is simple and it is good.

Though it isn’t enough. Something in her itches. She thinks it is physical, and she readjusts her seating position a few times, and fumbles, but it doesn’t seem to work exactly. Tech turns to her. 

“Are you comfortable?” He asks.

She nods.

“Yeah, nothing to worry about,” She reassures him, and he nods accordingly. 

“Good. If you need anything, please let me know,” He finishes before going back to his work. And when the talking stops completely, replaced with the crackling sounds of fizzling electricity, she realizes what feels off about the moment. 

“Tech?” She starts shaky, gazing up at him slightly worried. Tech stops completely; his hands drop and he tilts his head. He lifts up his visor to look at her better, and the simple act makes her bite back a grin. “Would you tell me something?” 

At first, he just stands there, confused. His head tilts even further and makes sure to confirm.

“You, want me to talk?”

She looks at him perplexed and huffs in disbelief. 

“I do,” She states simply.

"About what?" He probes further.

She shrugs.

"Anything you want. I just want to hear your voice."

He’s still confused as he looks at her through the yellow-tinted goggles. No, less confused, and more surprised. Tech turns away for a moment, trying to process the moment. A pretty girl wants him to talk… just talk about anything. And she wants to listen. Listen to what he’s been told over and over again his useless information regarding niche subjects and fields of study. He’s always seen her interest in what he’s said, yes, but he's just assumed it is common decency to listen to what someone is saying. He’s not used to his brothers actually tuning in and seeming actually interested in what he has to say. But she is. And she wants him to say more. 

He always has something more to say. But now, looking back to her barely parted, pretty lips and her thoughtful eyes… Tech draws a blank. 

He turns away again, fumbling with the task at hand as he tries to distract himself from it, still trying to conjure up something, anything to say to her. And she still waits, unphased by his hesitant silence as she methodically raps the pads of her fingers against her wrist. She sits as if she has all the time in the world. And if it were up to her, she would give him that.

He finally thinks of one small anecdote to share. 

“... I read a fascinating historical document this morning," he says. She perks up brightly, eyes lighting up with excitement as he begins.

“You did?” She says.

He nods in confirmation. The coy smile matched with tied lips she wears across her face is undeniable; even he can see it in the corner of his eye as he works. He tries not to let it get to his head. 

“Can you tell me more?” she continues.

Tech hisses so quietly, the modulator under his helmet doesn’t pick it up. Thank the Maker for that. 

“... It was the first recording of our modern republic system,” He does his best to recall what the document was about. “Or, what the Republic was, at least.” He looks over quickly for reassurance that this is what she wanted from him; he sees her nodding eagerly and intrigued. Oh, that only excites him more. He begins to remember more pieces of what he read once he turns away and back to the wiring in front of him, talking to her as he works. He even tries his best to slow down his pace to make it easier for her to process and understand better; though, he was unsure if it was the content that intrigued her more or simply his presence. 

“The document was essentially half-transcript, half-commentary on the first galaxy-wide meetings in the Senate, and the new opinions surrounding it."

"Who wrote it?" She interjects. He blinks but doesn't tear his eyes away and toward her.

"A group of people. Transcribers from the conferences, a member of the Jedi Order, and a few prominent Coruscant state senators that oversaw them."

She hums, and from the corner of his eye, he sees her lean closer to him, sighing deeply and letting her eyes flutter as if she was breathing in the most serene scent, and not the smell of smoldering wires and oil. Perhaps in their bubble, if Tech were to take his helmet off and breathe in as well, it smells of roses.

"I cross-analyzed both sections; there weren't any higher conclusions recorded. But by using critical thinking, you can really piece together how disorderly the first few decades of the Republic were." He tries to keep working, but ends up fiddling more than actually working; if he were to complete the task, he'd be done much sooner than he wanted to; especially if it meant he'd have to stop talking to her and their bubble would pop.

"Senators of large Core planets had to try and keep the piece; many outside planets had doubts about the design and future of the Republic to be sound. And even from the beginning, there were rogue planets that refused to join entirely. I guess there were always a few ‘Separatists.’”

The comment makes her chuckle.

“That really is interesting, Tech.”

“It is! In fact I-” He begins before the realization hits him and it shuts his mouth promptly there. He looks at her, just as perplexed as she was before, but more laced with insecurity. “You… find this, interesting?”

She nods as if baffled by his question. 

“If only you had me around before,” She says melancholic and softly. “I find all your interests really cool. And… I like hearing you talk.”

The admission has her flushing furiously, and Tech is too busy trying to compose himself to even kriffing notice. 

“That is… good to know,” he manages to say, giving her an approving, stiff nod before going back to work. His roboticness manages to elicit a sweet giggle out of her, and she sighs into comfortable contentment as he continues talking.

Her heart soars as he keeps going on, even without her explicit request. Even if she isn’t ready to talk, or even tell him about what is going on yet, hearing him gush about his interests certainly simplifies everything in a way that perfectly fills their little world, and makes everything better for as long as they stay.

[nychthemeron-rants]

Single Mom AU pt 3

Laia’s (Laios’) Timeline

Pt. 1 (AU Summary) Pt.2 (Name Guide) Pt. 4 (Chilchuck's Timeline)

Age 13- tried to disguise herself as a boy and join the army to escape ridicule from both her father and the other kids at school. Was caught and returned home near immediately. This resulted in severe punishments from her parents and even more social isolation from her peers. Her close relationship with her little brother, Fanil, is what got her through this dark period in her life.

Age 14- Encouraged Fanil to go to the magic school their parents have been threatening to send him to. She knew that since Fanil was their only son they didn't want to actually send him and were hoping that the threat would be enough to get Fanil to “act normal” but Laia knew Fanil could use this as an opportunity to escape and make something better of his life than inheriting their father's position.

Age 16- Reached adulthood and was married off to Dimar, the 19 year old eldest son of a wealthy merchant from their village. Dimar's family only agreed to the marriage because of Laia’s status and the chief's daughter and eldest child. While Dimar had heard of Laia's peculiar ways, he also knew she was proficient in many of the skills a “good wife” needed to have, and he considered her good looking enough to be fine with the arrangement. Laia wasn't thrilled but was raised to expect an arranged marriage and was honestly relieved that her husband seemed kind and was of a similar age.

Age 17- Her daughter, Lind, was born. It was shortly after the birth of their daughter, that Dimar's feelings towards the marriage turned from passive contentedness to resentment, as the added responsibility of raising a child with a woman he did not love began to weigh on him. Laia noticed her husband growing distant but blamed it on the exhaustion of having a newborn (despite Dimar doing little to help with Lind). 

Age 19- Dimar's resentment towards Laia and, by extension, Lind, for supposedly holding him back and saddling him with responsibility at a young age and leaving him unfulfilled boils over. He divorces Laia suddenly, leaving their village without informing anyone where he’s gone. He even, vindictively, sold their home expecting her and Lind to simply move back in with her parents. 

Laia, instead, took this as an opportunity to finally leave her village and try to make a life for herself and her daughter thats better than what she's experienced thus far. Obviously her parents were strongly against this, but being an adult now they couldn't do anything about it.

She felt only mild irritation at Dimar's action as she also felt no satisfaction with her life as his wife, had never loved him, and again, saw this as a chance for a new life 

Age 19 cont. - Made it to the Magic academy to see Fanil before she picked where to settle. Besides, Fanil had never had the chance to actually meet his niece before, which Laia wanted to remedy ASAP. 

Fanil convinced her to settle in the town next to the school so they can see each other regularly, which she did, picking up odd-jobs to fund the small apartment she was renting.

Age 22 - Odd jobs stop paying as well and living expenses get dire. Fanil suggests they start adventuring while they ask the school to look after Lind while they're gone. Laia is hesitant at first, considering Lind is only 5, but relents when Fanil asks his best friend and teacher Marcel to help them find long term babysitters for  Lind for cheap. They then join the gold stripping party.

(Marcel is EXTREMELY against this idea as he doesn't want Fanil to leave the school so close to graduation, but relents because he knows Fanil is going to go regardless, and knows that Lind being at the school means he HAS to come back. Still low-key judges Laia, whom he has never met, for being so much of a hot mess she has to “kidnap” her little brother away from his education and dump her daughter on the school.)

Age 23- Leaves the gold stripping party and forms her own party with Fanil. 

Lind, now 7, is old enough to enroll in the Magic Academy, allowing Laia and Fanil to go on longer Adventures as they don't need to go back to the school quite as often. (Both still write Lind as often as possible and visit frequently, as well as Laia sending most of her money back to Lind)

Laia discovers that Chilchuck is also adventuring for the sake of her daughters as a single mother. This happens after Chil discovers Laia quietly crying over a letter from her daughter. In order to comfort her, she explains that she understands her feelings because she has kids to look after too. However, Chil doesn't specify her daughters’ ages and tells Laia to keep her family info quiet.

Age 24 - Marcel joins the party to look after Fanil and try to convince him to come back, after a year ensuring Lind is adjusting well to the school. Decides to stay for research and Fanil.

Age 26 - Plot begins. Fanil is swallowed by the red dragon and with the weight of having her (now 9 year old) daughter on the surface waiting for her safe return, she ventures back into the dungeon with no provision to save her brother.

[spgothkidsheadcanons]

Goths taking care of s/o when they’re sick

Henrietta:

- MAMA HEN ALERT

- I REPEAT, MAMA HEN ALERT

- She’s all over you, fussing at you whenever you try to do something yourself

- She literally babysits you and makes sure that you have absolutely everything you need

- Medicine? Check

- Water? Check

- That one really good soup you love from the restaurant all the way across town? You bet she’s getting in the car and making the trek to get you that soup

- She loves you and she’ll do anything for you

- Please just let her baby you, it’s in her blood to make sure that you feel good at all times

You were laying face down in your bed, stripped down to a tank top and a pair of shorts to escape the heat from your fever. The covers of your bed covered one half of your body, trying to keep a happy medium between being hot and cold. Henrietta sat in a chair by your bed side, one hand rubbing circles on the exposed skin of your back and the other scrolling through a remedies list on her phone. She had not left your side since you started sniffling last night. When you woke up this morning hacking up your lungs, she jumped out of bed and got you every kind of medicine you might need to get you through the day.

You picked your head up, your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, throat burning like fire and only being able to semi breathe through one nostril. Turning to look at her, your laid your head back down, your eyes studying her as she intently scrolled on her phone. You smiled at her. The medicine she had given you just a little bit ago had made you loopy, and all you wanted to do was sit there and stare at her.

“Henri, I love you.” you squeaked, voice sore from your multiple coughing fits. She looked to you, giving you a soft smile. “I love you, too.” she responded, looking back to her phone. “No, I really do love you. You’re seeing me at my worst.” you added, closing your eyes as exhaustion started to set into your body. She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Trust me, this isn’t your worst. I was there on your 21st birthday.” she responded, setting her phone down and turning to look at you. You cringed as you remembered how drunk you got that night, barely able to make it inside your home before you tossed your cookies.

Her hand moved from your back, causing you to whine at the loss of her touch. She stood from her chair, making her way to the side of the bed that wasn’t occupied. Henrietta pulled the covers back, sliding into the bed beside you. You waited until she made herself comfortable before you turned on your side and slid closer to her, lazily wrapping an arm around her. She ran her fingers through your hair, smoothing the strands that stuck to your forehead. Your eyes closed, and soon, you were knocked out, holding onto your girlfriend like your life depended on it.

Michael:

- Michael is another baby-er

- If he was on tour, he’d send his parents over to go check on you and make sure you were doing okay

- If he was in the studio, he was immediately driving to you to personally take care of you

- He cuts himself off from the social world just to stay home unbothered, turning his full attention on you

- He’s the kinda guy who, if you ask him for something, instead of stopping for a second and thinking, he’s already on his way to the store

- On foot

- He forgets he has a car if you ask him for something, instead he’s right out the door walking to the closest store

- And don’t be surprised if he comes back with a lot more shit than you needed. He just picks up anything that makes him think of you

Michael’s keyring jingled as he fumbled through them, looking for the house key. He had just got back from the store, stocking up on anything you might have needed to help you get over your temporary illness. Finally finding the key, he jammed it into the lock and opened the door, stepping in and locking the door behind him. He quickly shrugged his jacket off, not bothering to hang it on the coat rack, instead letting it fall to the floor. The only thing on his mind was putting up your ice cream and making his way back to the couch to sit with you.

Michael quietly stepped past you, snickering to himself as he say you laying stiff as a board with a cold washcloth on your head and a sleeping mask to block out the lights. Making his way to the kitchen, he put up anything that needed to put up, grabbing a glass of water and a bag that had a different assortment of medicines. He didn’t know exactly what to get, so he opted to just get everything that he thought would help.

Stepping back into the living room, Michael made his way over to the couch you were laying on. He took notice that you had begun to breathe through your mouth, your nose having gotten stuffier while he was gone. The tall man sat on the edge of the coffee table and placed his hand on your arm, gently rubbing it to show he was there. “Hey, (Y/n). I know you’re sick, but you need to sit up for a second.” he whispered, not wanting to be too loud. You groaned in response, being cut short as another coughing fit racked through your body.

Michael winced as your body finally relaxed, assisting you in sitting up just long enough for you to take the medicine. It was painful to swallow, and you took a minute to recoil from the burn. Tears welped up in your eyes, but you blinked them away. Your boyfriend frowned, reaching his hand out to cup your face. Leaning into his touch, you relished in the fact that his cool hands helped to ease the burning of your cheeks. All too soon, Michael removed his hand and moved to the couch, pulling you to lay against him. He ran his fingers through his hair, humming some random songs until you managed to finally go back to sleep. Kissing the top of your head, he decided to take a nap himself, holding one arm around you.

Pete:

- Remember how I said he doesn’t like when you take care of him when he’s sick?

- Well forget that if you’re sick

- He’s over as soon as you wake up and tell him that you don’t feel good, carrying a few different containers of soup.

- And yes, he had been up almost all morning making those for you

- He will cuddle with you no matter what kind of sick you have

- My mans just loves you a lot, and while he doesn’t want you getting sick from him, he’ll gladly get himself sick trying to take care of you

- Really, you both end up sleeping all day

- He found out the hard way that when you’re sick, you’re clingy, and you’re not letting him go

Pete had just finished warming up some of his uncle’s homemade chicken noodle soup for you in your kitchen. He poured it into a bowl he pulled from your cabinet, grabbing the exact spoon that you prefer using (the little spoons are 🤌🏻🤌🏻), and made his way into your bedroom. Thankfully, you were just dealing with a nasty cold and not the flu, your only major symptoms being a sore throat, sneezing and a cough.

Opening your door, he stepped inside, shutting it behind him. He looked at you sitting up on your bed, picking at your nails as you put your full attention onto some random show that was on the tv. You had definitely gotten over the worst of it, but you still felt bad. Thankfully, Pete’s been there since you came down with the sickness (Oo ah ah ah ah), and he’s been nonstop caring for you. In fact, if it weren’t for him, you probably wouldn’t have been taking your medicine as steadily as he made you.

Walking to the bedside, you finally noticed he had come in, turning your head and smiling at him. Scootching over to give him room, you grabbed the soup from him, allowing him to get into bed beside you before tucking in. You had practically begged him to get his uncle to make his famous soup recipe, and his uncle happily agreed when he heard that that you were feeling sick.

“Dude, if I could marry soup, I’d marry this soup right now.” you mused, happily enjoying the meal. He smiled, amused at your words. “It would go bad in a few days, I think it’s fruitless to marry soup.” he quipped back, looking at you. You sighed, pretending to cry about what he said. The medicine you’ve been taking has made you a little loopy, it didn’t take a fool to see that. “My soup husband. My soupsband.” you mourned over the loss of your pretend marriage. “Gone but never forgotten.” Pete added, causing you to cackle, only for a cough to rack through your frame. Your boyfriend rubbed your back, his heart breaking at the groan of pain you emitted after you settled.

“The only soupsband you’ll ever have is me.” he said nonchalantly, taking your empty bowl and setting it on your nightstand. “Yeah, probably. Oh well. As long as you make me soup and baby me when I’m sick.” you said, leaning on your boyfriend. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, letting you lean against him as you both laid back. The rest of the day was filled with soup, tv, and the comfort of each other.