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lizzieehearts · 4 years ago

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i know it's late, but here's the discord angst fic myself and @calypsothenerd wrote a while back for daring day. enjoy!

"Daring, you need to look presentable" his father would say

"You are the face of this family Daring, straighten your tie" his mother would say

It was always the same. He was the future face of the charming dynasty, and needed to look like it. He was destined to be apple's prince, after all

But he was sick of this, he was sick of being told to ‘walk upright’ to ‘always smile’ to ‘fix his hair’ why couldn’t he be a normal teenager without worrying about how to look and how to act on every waking minute? He just wanted a normal life, but he knew that shouldn’t happen

He wanted a break. He wanted to be free. He wanted to rebel, though he knew if he did his family would disown him. That was scarier than all this, the fact that if he didn't keep up this charade, his family would leave him. Without this charade, he was worthless, to them at least

So he decided, one thing: he would go for the person that cared the most to try and get himself out of this situation, he just couldn’t take this anymore, so he finally got the courage and knocked on her door, Rosabella came out and immediately frowned because of the sad look on his face

"Daring, what's wrong?" she asked

"Everything" he answered, sliding past her into the empty dorm

She sat down on her bed, tapping the space beside her, telling him to sit. He lay down, his head in her lap

"Show me your demons and ill show you mine" she murmured, nodding at him to begin talking

“It’s my family, I’m supposed to be the perfect child, to be the image of the family, and it sucks, I can’t do normal teenager things, I can’t choose how I want to dress or style my hear, I feel like I’m in cage in a hexing zoo, Bella, I don’t know what to do anymore” he looked up at her, tears almost spilling over the surface

"What about you? What's your deal?" he asked, gulping quickly

"My mom's gone and my dad blames me for it. Treated me like shit because of it. still does. That's why I love it here so much. It's freedom for me, the one place he can't control me" now it was the princess blinking back tears, as she shared her story

“That’s terrible Rosa, I have no idea, but I wish I had your bravery to stand up against my parents”

she couldn't help but scoff.

"When I go home, I'm terrified. Of everything, Everyone. Because all it takes is one mistake and im done for. That isn't bravery, I can assure you that"

"What about when we saved Ever After from the Snow King? What about you sticking by my side when no one else would, after dragon games? What about all that?" Daring could handle negativity directed at himself, but Rosabella? Unacceptable

"All of that we did together, Dare"

At her words, the two of them looked at each other having the same idea

what if we stand up to our parents together?

“Yes Daring, I see you’re finally using that big head of yours for something” she jokes as she playfully nudges him

"But when? When are we both gonna see our parents again, at the same time?" he asked

"Winter break is coming up, you could come over to mine for the holidays?" she offered, implying that she wouldn't be able to go to his

“Sure, I guess, but why can’t you come to mine?”

Rosa took a deep breath

"Before coming to this school, I had never left my castle. Ever. Not even to see family. I hadn't met Briar, and I still haven't met her brothers or parents. The furthest I had gone was midway through the woods behind the castle, that was it. I'd hardly be able to spend the holidays at your's, even with him coming too" she sighed

“But do you think he’d let me go to yours?”

"I'm not sure, but it's more likely"

- - -

After two weeks, many a night spent yelling down a phone, and nights plagued with terrors refusing to subside, winter break and it was official: Daring, the twins and their parents would be spending the holidays at the Beauty's

- - -

The final day before the winter break Rosabella and Daring were hanging out “You still sure about this?” The beauty princess asks

"As sure as I'll ever be" was her prince's response,"after all, we've come this far"

“Let’s do this” she kisses his cheek and goes back to her room to pack

Once the four of them had gotten packed, Rosabella drove herself and the three Charmings to her childhood home, Beauty Castle, as the siblings' parents wouldn't be there until the day after. It was really something, walls of ivory, turrets wrapped in ivy, flowers at every turn. To the girl who had spent her entire childhood here, however, just the sight of it was enough to get her heart pounding and blood boiling. Daring, sensing her tension, immediately grabbed her hand, as the four of them walked through the gates

Darling, being oblivious of what was happening inside her friend’s mind commented “Wow Rosie, your house is amazing”

"Thanks. Your's probably is too" the princess responded, trying to breathe at a normal rate

"Yeah, but it's nothing compared to this" Dexter said, just as oblivious to the princess' discomfort as his sister, "I don't think I'd want to leave"

Daring, noticing the distress on the princess’s face, decided to change the subject “So, Darls, where did mom say we were going this time?”

"I think she said the dining hall" Darling responded

"Great. Let's go!" Rosabella said, a little too enthusiastically, as she led them through her childhood home

They then proceeded to follow Rosabella to the dining hall, where everything was ready for them

"Dad likes to sit at the head of the table, and to have me in his sight, so I'll sit at the opposite end, Dare, you and Dar can sit opposite each other nearest to me, and Dex you can sit beside Dare" Rosabella immediately said as they entered, knowing that if Daring was to get in a fight with his parents, having them beside him was not a good idea

“Yeah, Bell, you’re right” he then sits beside her, right next to the head of the table

Rosabella gave him a smile as his siblings sat down, but that went away as an inescapable presence entered the room

"Dad"

“Hello Sir” The oldest prince said, trying to be kind, despite already having seen the wounds he put on his daughter’s body

"Get away from my daughter. You sit there" he pointed to the same place at the other end of the table, beside where Rosa said he would be sitting.

Daring begrudgingly obliged, not wanting to cause any trouble, but still wanting to protect his princess.

“Pardon me sir, but I think this sitting arrangement is for the best” the prince said in the most educated way possible.

"Stop trying to be smart with me. Either you move or I make you" the stare given to the prince by the beast could've frozen over the room, as it did Daring, before he squeezed his girlfriend's hand and moved.

"Good" the Beast said, nodding and moving to his seat.

The princess glared at her boyfriend like ‘what was that’

"Rosabella! Stop staring like that" the beast snapped, making the princess jump and quietly apologise.

it was then that there was a knock on the door, one that could only be the Charming parents.

“It’s open!” The beast yelled aggressively, clearly already regretting allowing visitors.

Mr and Mrs Charming entered the dining room, and sat beside the twins without a word, sensing the tension in the room.

Mrs Charming coughed and spoke up “Thank you for inviting us” Her husband nodded along.

"It was my daughter's idea, actually" the beast replied, staring down Rosabella in the process, "so you can thank her"

“Then thank you, young lady” the queen turned to The Beauty.

"y- you're welcome, Mrs. Charming" Rosabella spluttered, right before the cook arrived with their meal. Desperate to get away from conversing with the guests, the beast automatically tucked in, prompting the rest to do the same.

And for the rest of the meal neither Rosabella nor her father said a word, for different reasons, she was anxious about standing up against him and him hating having guests over.

It was Daring that piped up first.

"Mom, Dad, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about"

Both his parents barely gave him a glance, his dad giving a weary "Yes, son?"

“I can’t take it anymore, I’m losing myself to please both of you, the fancy clothes, the expensive hair products, everything, I never wanted any of this, I just wanted to be a normal teenager”

"Daring, don't be silly. You're a Charming, no Charming is normal" his mother's tone was cold as ice.

"well, maybe- maybe i don't want to be a Charming"

Then his father stood up and slammed the table “Daring Charming, whoever put those ideas in your head is not your friend, now sit down and stop with this madness”

"NO, DAD!" Daring yelled, exasperated, "If that's all being a Charming is I don't want it! And how can you? It's not a life I want to live, being this plastic, stylised version of myself. I wanna be me, Dad"

“If that’s what you think, don’t bother coming back home after this” his father spat back.

“C’mon Dexter, Darling, let’s go home, enough of this stupidity”

"Don't go!" Rosabella quickly blurted out, for a reason only her and her friends knew.

"Don't be silly, Rosabella. they may leave if they wish" her father mumbled.

“No actually, I think I’m staying” Darling protested.

"Thank Grimm. Someone with a brain" Mrs Charming breathed.

"I'm not siding with you" Darling huffed, "We got invited here. It would be rude to leave"

Dexter nodded in agreement.

“If any of you stay, you’ll be removed from the family together with your savage brother”

"That's not fair! You did this to him, and if you can't take responsibility for that you're just going to kick him out? What would the rest of the family say?!" Dexter stood, breaking his silence, "And don't say that they would agree, because all five of us know they wouldn't"

“We are just trying to maintain the Charming family name, if you little savage children don’t understand that then you will no longer be a part of this family”

"At least you want to be a part of your family!" Rosa yelled before she could stop herself.

“And what is that supposed to mean, young lady?!” the beast yelled out.

"You ruined my childhood, left me battered and bruised, kept me stuck here with no escape, made me think that I didn't have relatives though really I did and you just never told me about them, didn't raise me right and left it up to the staff and your own son, barely let me eat or sleep, punished me for even the smallest things and for what? To make me feel guilty for coming out of the womb? What do you want me to do? Put on a brave face and say that I love you? When all you did for the first sixteen years of my life was make it a living hell?" rant over, the princess took a deep breath and awaited her father's response.

“GET OUT OF HERE, ALL SIX OF YOU, NOW” The beast roared out, then left the dinning room, slamming the door.

as the slam reverberated through the room, a deep silence echoed with it.

Daring sitting restless, his parents giving him the cold shoulder, his siblings getting the same, Rosabella across from him on the verge of tears, barely holding herself together.

The Charming went back to his original seat at the sight of her, wrapping her up in his arms.

#discord angst #yes it gets a tag shut up #cally tag #n writes #daring charming #ever after high #eah

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gayoperatorgunclub · 4 years ago

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For the ultimate ship meme, Lion and Doc? I'm sorry, I'm LionDoc trash-

it’s all good!! whenever someone sends in an ask, i get an excuse to talk/write about one of my interests! really, it makes me so happy to be able to create content that people hopefully enjoy!! 💝💝💝

General:

How long will they last? - until the end of time, babey

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - it was love at first sight but then they started talking i do think it was some form of ~interest~ in one another at first sight, but then all that drama and lack of communication happened so they didn’t really allow themselves to even dream about the possibility of a relationship. HOWEVER! once lion joined rainbow and they talked their shit out like people who know how to cope, there was a period of a few months that is now referred to as The Four Months of Pining™, during which glaz did a lot of paintings where the subject (who usually bears an uncanny resemblance to doc or lion) is staring at something (or someone) longingly. he calls it his french period. when they finally get together, a LOT of money changes hands. and goes straight into sledge’s pocket (he was the only one who bet that it would take them this long). diana gets a brand new collar (handmade), bed (handmade), dish (handmade), and many new toys (some handmade, some store-bought. sledge’s craftsmanship can only get him so far)

How was their first kiss? - you know how the french are supposed to be super suave and confident??? and how gay people are trying their hardest but they’re just Not Good at things????? (i know these are stereotypes but stay with me). well, with their 5/8 french blood (i hc one of doc’s parents is fully algerian while the other is half french, half algerian), and their 4/4 gay blood, they have an 81.25% chance of success in matters of the heart. sadly, that 18.75% chance of failure came into play during this situation. picture it. doc and lion. romantic, home-cooked dinner. le festin is playing in the background. they’re holding hands over the table. suddenly, doc’s cat goes into labour. all hell breaks loose. lion is getting flashbacks to his son’s birth, so now he’s hyperventilating. doc carries him to the couch and turns on the fan so he can cool off and catch his breath, before carefully moving his cat, Rayie (arabic for gorgeous, pronounced rye-ah) to the living room in his handmade Birthing Box, then grabs a pile of blankets and a heat lamp and situates himself on the ground nearby so he can help her if she needs it. once the kittens are born (they’re twins!! Sadiqi is the boy, and Amirti is the girl!!!) doc makes sure they’re nice and warm and that Rayie is recovering, and gives her pets while she cleans her babies. once the happy family is all settled in for the night, doc walks over to the couch and just. lays down on top of lion. once he’s gotten over the adrenaline of the birth, he takes lion’s face in his hands and says “promise me you’ll be more calm if we ever decide to have kids” and gives him a BIG smooch while lion’s just short-circuiting like “does he know i have a son???? did i forget to mention my son?????? also what about these kittens??? are they not sufficiently childish to count as children????? DOES HE WANT KIDS????? does he want to marry me??????? wait why is he getting so clo-”

Wedding:

Who proposed? - lion. it was the day of their two year anniversary (yes i AM saying they got together the august after outbreak don’t @ me) and they were on vacation at doc’s family’s Secret Beach House. they were vibing on the balcony, watching the sunset, when lion suddenly clears his throat. doc turns to look at him and finds his boyfriend down on one knee, looking like he might flee to Bermuda. he’s reaching for something in his pocket. doc starts laughing. lion, completely misunderstanding his reaction, flushes and stammers out an apology. doc sees this, and immediately stops, though he’s still smiling gleefully as he catches lion by the biceps, then reaches into his own pocket and pulls the ring he was going to give olivier. they exchange rings, giggling like little kids, and spend the rest of the night making out on whatever surfaces are available.

Who is the best man/men? - for lion? montagne. (his son is the ring bearer and doc’s niece is the flower girl). for doc? rook. he’s so happy he gets to participate in his dad’s wedding

Who is the bride’s maid(s)? - for lion: finka. for doc: twitch

Who did the most planning? - both of them!! do you know how hard they worked to ensure the ceremony was valid in the eyes of both of their religions

Who stressed the most? - s e e a b o v e

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - lion’s parents. they tried to call him during the reception but doc’s grandma grabbed his phone and started cussing them out, talking about dishonor and how they tried to disown him so they’re not his parents anymore, and besides, his new family absolutely adores him, so really, it’s their loss. once she hangs up, she pulls lion into a hug and he calls her his favorite, if only, grand-mère

Sex:

Who is on top? - who’s topping? lion. but sometimes doc gets bitchy so he gets to set the pace if you know what i mean

Who is the one to instigate things? - they are both lowkey horny 24/7 so 👀👀👀

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now (only because they do get to see each other fairly often. if one goes on a long mission without the other, once they get back they will bump it up to a 10 real quick)

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - idk long enough ig. maybe longer if someone feels they’ve been left ~unsatisfied~ they might go a few more rounds ;))

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - ok it depends on what they’re doing but usually it’s one or two each, but on ~special~ occasions it’s either doc getting edged and denied for hours, OR doc getting forced to come over and over again until he’s begging for something, whether it be more or a goddamn break even he isn’t really sure. either way he’s crying and lion is consistently asking if he needs to safeword and otherwise checking in because they may like it rough but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - unless someone’s hormones and organs get fucked, zero

How many children will they adopt? - probably none?? idk they’ve already got lion’s son and they’re both busy enough with work so

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - NEITHER!!!!! DISGUSTANG!!!!!!!!!

Who is the stricter parent? - god i wanna say both. like lion and his attachment to rules??? but doc and his Mom Friend energy????? but ig lion BUT HE’S NOT STRICT TO THE POINT HE’S A BUZZKILL OR ANYTHING HE’S JUST RESPONSIBLE (he will NOT allow his husband and son to go vandalize the property of some islamaphobic brits, as much as he agrees with the sentiment)

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - doc will only allow vandalism if it’s in the name of righteousness. meaning, he’ll allow their son to spray paint the walls of a goddamn walmart with shit like “eat the rich” and a portrait of robespierre and a guillotine, but it is a HARD NO on defacing places like the library or community center (unless he has a good reason to do so). lion spends his time praying and making sure his son knows which acts of civil disobedience are acceptable and which are distorting their goal

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - doc. he (privately) dreams of retiring (eventually) and living out his lifelong dreams of being a househusband. so

Who is the more loved parent? - SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW GET OUT OF MY HOUSE IM GONNA BEAT YOUR ASS. but ig lion??? BUT ONLY BECAUSE THEIR SON HAS KNOWN HIM LONGER. doc is half Dad and half Cool Uncle Who Gives Me Spray Paint And Tells Me To Make Myself Heard (to clarify, i know doc is a pacifist, but im kinda projecting my own sentiment of “we’ve tried to be peaceful but you wouldn’t give us the time of day. now that we’ve “acted out” we’ve gotten your attention, and rest assured, things are going to change.” he won’t hurt anybody, he’s just tired of having to be everyone’s “muslim friend” and educating people on things they could google themselves)

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - it used to be lion out of necessity, but when people started asking about his “wife” he was really torn between telling them that he and his son’s mother separated, but now he has a partner and his son seems very happy about it. when doc finally attends a meeting with lion, people really struggle to hide their shock. a few clunky but well-meaning “we support you”’s and “we’re sorry for everything that’s been going on”’s later, doc has used his charm to make friends with literally everyone. from then on, he is on pta duty on behalf of lion and his ex

Who cried the most at graduation? - lion! his parents purposefully didn’t show at his, so it’s a big deal for him to show his son just how proud he is. doc tears up a little too, but manages to mostly keep it together so he can support lion, who spends most of the day heave-crying about how proud he is into his husband’s shoulder. gustave just pats him on the back and tells him that they’ll run out of donuts if they don’t get to the concession stand soon

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - doc. civil disobedience, baby!! he has never been caught. lion fears the law after his youth, so he tries to avoid any visits to law enforcement. he also can’t stand to see his son behind bars

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - doc. househusband, remember?

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - doc, but only because he can be a bit of a spice supremacist. he has to get his ingredients from these very specific farms and markets or else his great grandmother will begin manifesting in their house to curse them

Who does the grocery shopping? - doc, bc he does NOT trust lion to not just sweep all of the microwave ramen and kraft mac n cheese into the cart then sprint to self-checkout

How often do they bake desserts? - whenever possible. doc and maestro live by the philosophy “don’t do anything halfway” if they’re going to go through the trouble of making a meal, it will have multiple courses.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - doc is more of a salad eater but only for ease of consumption with halal laws. he adores filet mignon

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - lion! maestro enlists himself as assistant head chef after walking into the base’s kitchen one day to find lion covered in flour and lying facedown on the floor, crying

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - also lion! though he’s memorized doc’s order at all of their favorite restaurants, so he usually just gets take out and puts on a big show of being a “tired housewife who works in the kitchen all day just for this one meal” and setting up the table so it’s all nice and romantic

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - lion. he tried crème brûlée once. never again

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - lion. organization is everything to this man. doc helps with laundry and such, but for the most part he leaves organization to lion and his systems (think leslie knope levels of planning and organization)

Who is really against chores? - neither! they both understand that teamwork makes the dream work, baby!!

Who cleans up after the pets? - doc, since lion’s already asked him which color hanger should represent “clothes i can tear off my husband before we fuck” and he needs a Moment

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - neither. they don’t own a broom

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - lion because of the deep-seated catholic urge to appear perfect in front of others, and doc because people will gossip, olivier!

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - lion. he immediately called doc into the room and asked “is this your stash of drug money?” doc, who had been asleep because it was 3 in the morning on a saturday, just stares at him

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - it is so bold to assume they don’t shower together to “cut costs”

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - lion is known in their neighborhood as the man who walks cats. there is a facebook page where people post pictures of him walking his cats. vigil is an admin

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - LITERALLY EVERY HOLIDAY GETS DECORATIONS. lion makes his own for the muslim holidays since there really aren’t many “of good quality” in stores. when they first started dating, doc came home to find his house covered in ramadan decorations, and lion standing precariously on a ladder, trying to string up fairy lights while learning how to pronounce important arabic words. needless to say, doc cries

What are their goals for the relationship? - mutual joy and contentment!!!!

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - doc. he’s sleepy

Who plays the most pranks? - lion, but they’re stupid ones like replacing certain pictures with danny devito. doc gets back at him by replacing pictures of jesus with ewan mcgregor, and putting yoda into his nativity scene. lion doesn’t notice

#ask #anonymous #r6s doc #r6s lion #doc/lion #ass alert!#could you tell i forgot whether or not lion's ex and son had names #thank you for interacting!

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welcometomyrandompersonality · 4 years ago

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Let’s talk PTSD Nightmares

Keeping in mind- this just applies to me. I have PTSD from childhood abuse. Yes it’s real. Yes it’s debilitating.

So I am having a horrible time rn so I feel like sharing what my nightmares function like. TW for mental health issues, abuse, aggression etc.

Everyone experiences ptsd differently. Triggers, reactions, dreams. All of it can and will be different from case to case. I can only speak for myself.

Post continues after a cute penguin gif because I’m on mobile and don’t know how to make the “Read more” button.

Alright let’s get into this. Last warning that TW content is gonna happen. My background and what happened to “justify” the dream will happen in each category.

Let’s talk about the Kinda Weird category:

These are the ones I have that are obviously trauma related-but I’m not in danger or too horribly upset or uncomfortable. For instance last night I screamed at my step mom in my dream. Felt therapeutic in the moment- triggering upon waking.

This woman hated me. She lies daily to my siblings that I don’t love them. I was disowned at 19 for reporting my dads abuse towards them. Clearly I love them a hell of a lot.

But when I woke up i was momentarily proud I chewed out my abuser and won the argument. Then it faded to wondering if she was right to hate me (obviously a result of manipulation and gas lighting), I couldn’t even stop it or try my coping mechanisms because it was basically my first thought of full consciousness this morning- once full panic or self hate kicks in for me I basically have to just let it run it’s course and distract myself so I don’t relapse.

Could be stress, but more vivid

This category is kind of the grey area. I’ve had nightmares since I was a kid. They change as I get older.

In this category (and spills into the next) are things like monsters, school nightmares, etc.

I have two examples for this category- one much more likely to be ptsd than stress and the other more grey area.

1) from a young age I would have nightmares about a giant robot destroying everything. This would go on and on and eventually I would find the magic weapon that defeated it right before it killed me. I would defeat it at the last second. This always took place in the first neighborhood I remember. Clearly ptsd, the house went to my abuser in the divorce, the robot is obviously representative of my abuser, the weapon a desire to defeat abuse and succeeding. At the same time I had just been exposed to Iron Giant and Wizard of Oz (I always melted the robot with the garden hose) when they started and those tones are common in this.

2) In middle school I started having a nightmare about the school nurse turning into the swamp monster and chasing me and my friends through the school. This is a gray area because I have ALOT of dreams about being chased and unable to escape. But I was also in middle school and isn’t that just a rough time for everyone?

OPE:

This category is the really bad ones- the ones people who dream rarely etc might get freaked out by.

These are the dreams where I’m in immediate danger or die. I won’t describe details because I’ll probably get banned or something. A lot have me failing at saving myself or others. Stands up for myself and get attacked. Most recently dreamt: I flipped off a driver for almost hitting me (as a pedestrian). Felt good, tried to get in my car and he blocked me in. The locks on the doors failed. Another driver joined in the attack. I forced myself awake as things turned violent. Before my current therapist I would not have been able to escape that dream. I have a sleep disorders that makes it hard to wake up fully a lot of the time. I’m able to change the topic of dream better now and at least end one nightmare most of the time. I’ve been injured in these dreams. Bad shit happens in these dreams. And they’re all about me failing. (Imagine how much of a stink my abuser gave me over Cs in school)

Through good therapy and self practice I’ve been able to start to manage my nightmares more. I’m starting to recognizing when I’m dreaming-meaning I sometimes have control over if I can wake up enough to end it or change it. Sometimes I can’t but it’s slowly easier to move forward from them. Sometimes I know I’m dreaming and I can’t wake up at all. I wake up and scream for help through dream-ception™️ until I get to the last level and wake up with my whole body rigid and sweaty and shaking. My Apple Watch loves watchingy heart rate spike during this. Honestly these are my least favorite (hey you gotta rank it when you have as many dreams as I do)

I do have “normal” dreams too. Some favs include anything based in a fandom, my partner and I, blissful witch things lol

These are just my ptsd dreams. Everyone is different and sources of trauma and reactions to it vary greatly. Remember ptsd can show up in everything from severe anxiety to specifically doing everything the anxious person would cry to even think about. It can be openness to talk to everyone about the trauma, or it can be refusal to discuss it.

#ptsd #ptsd recovery #ptsd tw #actuallyptsd #mental health #mentalheathawareness #dreams #sleep #fuckery #now you know #knowledge #anxitey #depression

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nickelkeep · 5 years ago

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Twas the Night

Pairing: Dean/Cas - Timestamp to Like the Angel Rating: Teen, to be on the safe side. Word Count: 3500 Warnings: Tooth. Rotting. Fluff. Written For: @notfunnydean‘s 2019 SPN Advent Calendar Day 11 - Christmas Story On Ao3

Quick Side Note - I’ve been sick, which is why you haven’t seen one of these in a while. I missed days 12 through 15, which I have made reference to in the fic. There’s a better explanation if you follow the Ao3 Link. 😘

---

“Daddy?”

Dean shook his head as Emma called him from down the hallway. Sixteen years old, and she knew that she could get just about anything she wanted by singsonging ‘daddy’ instead of just calling him Dad. “What’s up, Em?”

“It’s Christmas Eve!”

“Uh, yeah.” Dean got up from his bed and walked down the hallway to Emma’s room and leaned against her doorframe. “You gonna tell me something I don’t know, Kiddo?”

“We need to get started!” Emma was sitting on her floor with her back to the door. “It’s Cas’ first Christmas with us, and I want to make sure he enjoys it.”

Dean smiled. “Whatcha got there?”

“It’s uh, it’s a part of his Christmas present.” Emma looked over her shoulder and smiled.

“You’re not going to tell me what it is?” Dean stepped closer to look over Emma and see what she was making or doing. “You know I can keep a secret, Em.”

Emma blushed bright red. “I was gonna, you know, that thing we talked about a week ago.”

“Say no more, Kiddo.” Dean squatted down next to Emma and pulled her into a hug. “Cas is gonna love it.”

“Thanks, Dad. I’m glad one of us is sure of it.”

Dean stood back up and rested his hands on his lower back. “You gonna come help me make breakfast?”

“Cinnamon Rolls? Or are you going to try that new recipe you found?” Emma gathered the items that had been spread out on the floor around her and stacked them neatly in a pile before standing up. “I’m okay with trying something new for breakfast.”

“Is this that new tradition thing you’ve been pushing?” Dean crossed his arms over his chest and smiled fondly at his daughter. “I love how much you want to make sure Cas is included.” He started backing up towards the door. “Come help me make the Honey Bread?”

Emma returned the smile and followed down to the kitchen.

---

Cas made it downstairs to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and something baked or baking in the oven. Emma was sitting at the kitchen island drawing while Dean was standing over the stove dancing and singing along to some Christmas song. “You still working on that drawing, Em?

Emma looked up and shook her head. “Nope, these are just some warmup sketches. Wanna see?”

“Of course.” Cas stopped and gave Dean a kiss before sitting on the stool next to Emma’s. “Looks like you’re in the Christmas spirit.” Cas pointed to one of the figures. “Ghost of Christmas Yet-to-Be?”

“Yep! I really liked Mr. Roche’s lesson on A Christmas Carol.” Emma smiled. “Did you check to see if I get to be in your class next semester, Cas?”

“Which one?”

Emma shot one of her Uncle Sam’s bitchfaces at Cas. “Really, Cas?”

“Yes, you are in my Mythology in Modern Literature class.” Cas chuckled. “But, remember, Ms. Milton wasn’t really sure that with your dad and I dating that it would be a good idea. We gotta prove that this will work.” Dean set a mug of coffee in front of Cas, and Cas immediately picked it up to drink. “I know that we’ll be fine, but we have to make sure I’m not showing favoritism.”

“I didn’t slack last year.” Emma pouted.

Cas tucked a piece of hair behind Emma’s ear. “Which is why Ms. Milton said it was okay for you to be in the class and for me to teach it.”

“Coming in!” Dean placed a plate in front of Cas and waited as Emma moved her drawing stuff before setting hers breakfast down. “Sorry to interrupt serious school talk.”

“Dean, you told me you guys do cinnamon rolls for Christmas morning.” Cas tilted his head. “What’s this?”

“Em and I found the recipe online and thought it might be something you would like.” Dean set some sort of spread on the table. “It’s a honey bread, with cinnamon sugar butter. And of course, bacon, because God forbid I don’t ever make you two bacon.”

Dean’s quip earned a chuckle from both Emma and Cas. Cas watched as Dean finished putting together his own plate and sat down with them before taking a bite of the bread. “Wow,” Cas replied with food in his mouth, causing Dean to roll his eyes. Cas swallowed his food before speaking again. “I’m serious, this is really good.” He reached for the butter and started spreading it on.

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying it, Cas.” Dean popped a piece of bacon in his mouth.

“I am.” Cas took a bite of the bread with the butter and moaned happily. “So good.”

“Cas, you’d think you never had food before.” Emma snarked.

“I’m always a sucker for new foods that are delicious.” Cas winked at her. “So, you two haven’t told me what you all do on Christmas Eve, besides breakfast, of course.”

Emma looked at Dean, who nodded in approval. “Well, after breakfast, we usually go and get any last-minute gifts and pick up anything that Gramma Ellen might need for dinner.”

“Ma feeds us at the Roadhouse,” Dean elaborated, “She won’t know for certain what she needs for dinner tonight until she does a quick inventory check after closing. She’ll probably be calling in the next…” Dean looked at the clock on the microwave. “Ten to fifteen minutes.”

“That sounds like an adventure.” Cas propped his chin on his hand. “So should we get dressed?”

Dean shrugged. “Not to sound apathetic, but while it sounds like a day of adventure, we’re still kinda lazy. Usually, Ma calls, then we get dressed. But, if you’re raring to go.”

“Sorry, just looking to spending this Christmas with my…” Cas looked back and forth between Dean and Emma. “With my family.”

“Well, Cas. We want to celebrate it with you too.” Dean stood up and grabbed the empty plates, taking them over to the sink and rinsing them off.

“We want to know your traditions too. We don’t want to force you into a mold. We’ve grown as a family, so we have room to take in and make new traditions.” Emma took Cas’ mug and took a drink from it. “You really need coffee with your cream, Cas.”

Cas laughed and ruffled Emma’s hair. “Let’s go get dressed then, and your dad can follow suit. I’ll show you two what I do on Christmas Eve.”

“Do we need to get fancy-dressed?” Emma raised her eyebrow.

“No, Emma, jeans are fine.” Emma did a little happy dance and headed off to her room. Cas looked at Dean. “‘Fancy-dressed’ is your phrase, isn’t it?”

“What can I say, Angel? Emma and I are simple creatures.” Dean closed the dishwasher and started it before crossing over to Cas. He pressed his lips against Cas’ temple, leaving a soft kiss. “Let’s go get changed.”

---

As Dean had promised, Ellen called with a list of groceries for their dinner. After stopping to pick up their last-minute Christmas Gifts, Dean, Cas, and Emma stopped by the grocery store to grab the items for dinner. They swung by the Roadhouse and dropped them off, asking if there’s anything they could do to help with dinner. Ellen playfully swatted at Dean with a towel and promised that Jo and Charlie already claimed the elf honors for the year.

After joking about food poisoning - “Did they forget that Charlie could burn water?” Dean complained in jest - Cas took Dean’s phone and plugged in an address in the maps app.

The location Dean pulled the Impala in front of turned out to be a homeless shelter. “What’s all this, Cas?”

“It’s a bit of a story,” Cas explained, but he continued when Emma leaned over the front seat. “I haven’t told you much about when I was in college, Emma. But I didn’t go for what my parents wanted me to go for. It was bad enough that I was gay, but to completely misuse their gift of college was the last straw. I was just short of disowned. So, my first year after I graduated college, I was completely alone on Christmas Eve.” Cas paused and ran his fingers through Emma’s hair. “It’s okay. I’m okay, as you can see now. But then, I was a new teacher, I didn’t know anyone well enough, and I had nowhere to go.

“Instead of moping around my empty apartment watching TV by myself with just Chinese food to keep me company, I pulled out my laptop. I found the closest LGBT friendly shelter.” He gestured to the building they were parked next to. “I called and asked if they did any kind of dinner, and the rest is history. I felt loved, I felt safe, and I felt good giving to people who didn’t have even the little bit I had. So, every Christmas Eve I come here. To thank them for taking me and accepting me when my own family wouldn’t. Some years I even join in for Christmas, even though they don’t necessarily need me on that day.” Cas turned to face Dean. “Remember, you asked where I sometimes go when I don’t come home right away?” Dean nodded. “It’s here.”

Cas patted the back of the seat and smiled. “Let’s get you two inside and introduce you both to the people who run the shelter and those in charge of the kitchen.”

“That sounds great, Cas.” Dean beamed at him.

Once inside, Cas was greeted by several members of the staff with whom he was familiar. They were excited to meet Dean and Emma. They had heard so much about them over the past several months. Cas had bragged about Dean’s skills in the kitchen, and he was quickly got roped into helping cook. Cas took his usual spot on the serving line. Emma was a little too young to help with the food– “I just turned sixteen!” She complained. –but they asked her to play with the younger kids and watch over them.

They stuck around for as long as they could. Dean had to literally pull Emma away from the younger kids, and Cas bribed her with the promise they would come back sooner than next Christmas. She spent the entire drive to the Roadhouse recounting her stories of playing with the kids, bringing smiles to Dean’s and Cas’ face.

Once they pulled into a spot, Emma practically leaped out of the car and ran inside. Dean and Cas took a moment to look at each other and revel in her enthusiasm before getting out themselves and grabbing presents out of the back of the car.

“You think she would have helped us.” Dean smiled at Cas, kissing him on the corner of his mouth before heading inside. “Oh, by the way. Ma has probably hung up at least a dozen sprigs of mistletoe.”

Cas laughed and looked up. “Looks like we hit the first one.” He leaned over and kissed Dean on the cheek.

---

After dinner and introducing Cas to their Christmas Eve Present tradition, Dean excused the three of them from the drinking games portion of the evening. There was no argument from any member of his family, which Dean was grateful for. He walked behind Cas and Emma, watching as Cas wrapped his arm around Emma and hugged her tightly. Warmth flowed through him, and he silently kicked himself for not having his phone out to snap a photo.

Emma curled up with a new blanket that Charlie made her, while Cas admired a first edition copy of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn that Sam gave him. Dean snuck glances at them both on the ride home, excited for what was next.

As he pulled into the driveway, Dean looked at Emma. “You wanna tell Cas about our last tradition, Kiddo?”

“Cas, do you know The Tailor of Gloucester?” Emma yawned and slid out of the backseat before Cas could answer.

“I do,” Cas replied, getting out of the car right behind Emma. “Beatrix Potter. It’s a Christmas story of hers. Why?”

“Dad tucks me in and reads it to me.” Emma blushed. “I know I’m probably too old for that now.”

Cas pulled Emma into another hug. “You’re never too old to enjoy having someone read to you. Your dad bugs me to read to him occasionally.”

“Will you read it tonight?” Emma asked.

“But, you just said it’s you and your dad’s thing.” Cas looked at Dean with a look that Dean was pretty sure equated to asking for help.

“It’s fine, Cas. I already knew Em was going to ask.” Dean winked and walked to the front door. “Let’s get inside, so we don’t freeze, and then we can all curl up in Emma’s bed and enjoy the story.”

The suggestion appeared to calm Cas down, and the trio entered the house to warm up. Emma ran ahead upstairs, while Cas and Dean took their time climbing the stairs.

“Dean, I don’t want to step on your toes,” Cas commented, concern still in his voice.

They entered their room, and Dean cupped Cas’ face in his hands. “I promise that you’re not. Do it this year, and next year we can do it together, or we can take turns to who does it.” Dean ran his thumb over Cas’ cheek before crossing to their dresser. He grabbed a pair of Cas’ pajama pants and tossed them to him. “Let’s not keep her waiting.”

Cas and Dean finished changing and walked down to Emma’s room. She had left the door open for them to come in.

“Hop under the blanket, Kiddo.” Dean pointed at the bed, and Emma obliged him, quickly scrambling to climb under the covers. She grabbed the book off of her nightstand and waited until Cas was sitting next to her.

“Last call, Emma. Are you sure you want me to read it?” Cas hesitated as he took the book and opened the cover.

“Yes, Cas, I’m sure. I’m positive. I’m 16, not six.” She stuck her tongue out at Cas and was bopped on the nose playfully.

“I hear you. Just…” Cas took a deep breath and relaxed, leaning back against her headboard. “Thank you, Emma.” He shot a warm look at Dean, which Dean responded to with a hair ruffle. “‘In the time of swords and periwigs and full-skirted coats with flowered lappets—when gentlemen wore ruffles, and gold-laced waistcoats of paduasoy and taffeta—there lived a tailor in Gloucester…’”

As the story continued, Dean would occasionally poke Emma to keep her awake, knowing how she was prone to fall asleep when being read to. He smiled as he watched Cas animate the story with his body and his voice. Even Dean could admit to finding a new love for the story, with Cas reading it in his own way.

“‘He made the most wonderful waistcoats for all the rich merchants of Gloucester, and for all the fine gentlemen of the country round.

“‘Never were seen such ruffles, or such embroidered cuffs and lappets! But his button-holes were the greatest triumph of it all.

“‘The stitches of those button-holes were so neat—so neat—I wonder how they could be stitched by an old man in spectacles, with crooked old fingers, and a tailor’s thimble.

“‘The stitches of those button-holes were so small—so small—they looked as if they had been made by little mice!”

Cas turned the page to get to “The End,” but found in its place a sticky note. “What’s this, Emma?” He pulled it off and read it. “‘Ask Emma for your card.’ What card would that be?”

Emma reached under her pillow and pulled out a card. “Merry Christmas, Cas.” She handed it to him and smiled, cuddling up against Dean. Dean wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head.

“Thank you?” Cas tilted his head and opened the envelope. “Oh, good, no glitter.”

“Glitter is the herpes of the craft world, Cas.” Emma laughed.

“Is that your Dad or your Aunt Charlie?” Cas pulled out the card. On the front was a stylized picture of two dads and a daughter. “‘Your art only gets better and better, Emma.” He opened the card and started reading it to himself. Cas smiled until he got to a particular spot and froze. He looked back and forth between Emma and Dean, tears building up in his eyes. “Emma?”

Dean had pulled out his phone and set it to record. “What’s it say, Cas?”

“You knew.” Cas pointed at Dean and sniffled, fighting to hold back his tears. “Dear Cas. I want to thank you for so many things. First, for being my teacher. You have taught me so much, and not just from the books you share. I’ve learned about caring and compassion.” Cas smiled at Emma, “Your dad has taught you a lot of that too.”

“Hush, Cas, keep reading.” Dean smiled.

“Thank you for making Dad happy and becoming apart of our family. While we were content, you brought a new kind of happiness to our lives.” Cas reached forward and tucked Emma’s hair behind her ear. “You two have brought such joy to my life.”

Emma leaned into Cas’ touch, smiling.

“Since I’m running out of the room on this card, let me thank you for being my other Dad. I never knew I was missing a second parent until you became mine.” Cas sobbed softly. “Merry Christmas, Papa. I love you, Em.” Cas pulled Emma into his arms. “I love you too, Emma.”

“If you don’t like Papa, we can pick something else.” Emma looked up. “Or I can keep calling you Cas.”

Cas wiped away a tear from Dean’s face, and then one from Emma’s. “Emma, I am proud to be your Papa. Thank you for letting me.”

Emma surged forward and wrapped her arms around Cas’ neck. “Love you, Papa.” Dean wrapped his arms around both of them, causing Emma to giggle. “You know I love you, Dad.”

“Of course I do, Kiddo. I just needed to hug my two favorite people.” Dean planted a kiss on the top of her head. “Time for bed, though.” Dean stood up and walked to the other side of Emma’s bed and offered his hand to Cas, helping him to his feet. “If you don’t go to sleep, Santa won’t come.”

“Really, Dad?”

“Yep. No presents for daughters who remind their Dads of their age, either.” Dean pointed at Emma, winking as Cas dragged him out of the room. Dean quietly closed the door behind them and turned to smile at his partner. He gently cupped Cas’ cheek and rested their foreheads together. “Can I give you your present now?”

Cas smirked as they walked to their room. “Did you get me the nutcracker I asked for?”

“You were serious about that?” Dean laughed, entering their room, and heading to the closet. “I thought you were just a Grinch when I asked what you wanted.”

“I was a little facetious.” Dean handed Cas a few presents as he continued. “Remember what I said at the shelter earlier?”

“Of course, Angel.” Dean loaded up his own arms and gestured to the door. “I knew about your family, that was one of the first things I learned about you. I want to give you the holiday that you haven’t been able to experience in years.”

Cas led the way downstairs to the Christmas Tree. “You’ve already done so much, Dean. You and Emma both. I haven’t had a Christmas this memorable since my first one after graduating college.” He set the boxes down and turned to look at Dean. “I love that you want to do this for me, and I love you.”

“I love you too, Cas.” Dean set the presents under the tree and took the ones out of Cas’ arms. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

“I did, I asked if you got me a nutcracker.” Cas crossed his arms. “None of those boxes look like they could be a nutcracker.”

“Cas.” Dean rotated toward Cas while dropping to one knee. He pulled a box out of his pocket. “I know this is probably a little soon, but when you know something is right, you shouldn’t let it go.”

Dean watched as Cas’ face twisted in confusion before brightening in understanding. “Dean, is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah, Cas.” Dean swallowed and nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he cracked the box open. “Emma said it best: We were happy, but you brought us something we didn’t know we were missing.” Dean paused and let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “Marry me, Cas?”

Cas broke out into a brilliant smile and reached to the Christmas tree, pulling off an ornament. “I lied about this one.” Cas fell to one knee in front of Dean, putting them at the same level. “I’ll marry you on one condition.” He twisted the ornament and took the top off, revealing his own ring. “You say yes, also.”

“Hell, yes.” Dean lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Cas’ - his fiance’s - neck, and enveloped him in a tight embrace.

#spnadventcalendar2019 #profoundnet #spncreatorsdaily #writersofdestiel #deancas #destiel #timestamp #domestic fluff #christmas fluff #marriage proposal #nickel writes

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shitiger · 5 years ago

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Baron Draxum x Lou Jitsu: Feudal Japan Au

https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556719

Story 2 from Lou Jitsu x Baron Draxum Ficlets. (Rated M for the suggestive parts)

(Summary: Hamato Yoshi happens upon a handsome youkai out in the forest. A friendly sparring match turns into much more. (Lou Jitsu/Hamato Yoshi x Baron Draxum).

“Gorgeous,” Yoshi whispered to himself, leaning over the tree branch for a better look. He had rushed off to the forest in an attempt to avoid his chores, something he did quite often, but he hadn’t expected to run into a youkai in the area. His clan was tasked with battling any monsters they presumed to be a threat, so the creatures normally stayed far away from their temple. But the youkai man beneath the tree wasn’t actually doing anything wrong, Yoshi observed. He had placed his basket full of herbs on the grass, and was standing motionless as he watched the waterfall in the distance.

The young man felt his cheeks redden as the figure began to remove his dark robe, the fabric sliding down his thick, muscular teal shoulders. Hot damn! The youkai folded his robe, and placed it next to the basket. He half turned, giving Yoshi an amazing view of perfectly plump lips, long maroon hair, and delicate horns that curled up on either side of his cheeks. The monk suddenly felt a little too warm, and tried to readjust his body to avoid the unpleasant feeling of his lower half pressed against the tree branch. Unfortunately, his usually superior skills were combined with his distracted gaze, and he found himself tumbling ungracefully out of the tree.

“A human!” the youkai exclaimed, adjusting his form into a battle stance. Even half clothed, he was clearly able to take care of himself.

Dazed from the fall, but still very, very interested, Yoshi blurted out, “Wow, you’re really a looker, aren’t you.”

“A looker?” The youkai’s lips twisted into a grimace. “Are you attempting to flirt with me?”

“Is it that obvious?” Yoshi asked, wiggling his eyebrows as he pushed himself into a seated position, his back resting against the tree. The larger male rolled his golden eyes in response, his stance a becoming a little less dangerous. “I’m…” I can’t give him my real name name, or he’ll know my family is obsessed with youkai hunting. “I’m Lou… Jit…sue?”

“Lou Jitsu?”

“Yes. Exactly. That’s my name. A perfectly normal name. Not suspicious at all,” Yoshi whispered the last bit from the corner of his mouth, even as he got to his feet. The youkai shifted back into a crouched stance, clearly waiting for him to attack.

“No, no, you can relax. I’m friendly. I promise.”

“Friendly? You’re a human warrior. Or perhaps you’re a simpleton if you have no concerns when it comes to spying on dangerous youkai,” the larger male stated.

Yoshi glanced down at the basket of herbs, and raised an eyebrow. “You don’t look that dangerous to me. But with those muscles, it’s clear that you keep yourself in shape. You wanna spar with me?”

“You want me to attack you?” the youkai said, clearly thrown off by his request.

“Not at all. Just two guys, hanging out, having a friendly sparring match. No blood, no killing. Just the two of us getting to know each other,” Yoshi said, taking what he hoped was a non-threatening step forward.

“Sparring with a human. My father would roll over in his grave if he knew I had let you live. But he was old-fashioned, and I am not. Very well, Lou Jitsu. I shall honor your request. But if you attempt to double-cross me, you will not leave this clearing alive.”

“Sounds like a plan. But it seems like I’m a bit overdressed. Just gonna slip out of this,” Yoshi said, scrambling to remove his robe. He finally tossed the robe and belt to side. Now they were evenly matched. Just two men standing about in their baggy pants, waiting to fight one another. Well, one guy in baggy pants. The other was wearing some kind of long loincloth that nearly hung down to his cloven feet.

“What are your terms for this battle?” the youkai asked, narrowing his golden eyes.

“Terms? Oh, yeah. Well, as I said, no bloodshed or killing. First one to pin the other down…” Yes, pin me down you sexy...! No, Yoshi, now is not the time for your hormonal thoughts! “Uh, yeah. First one to pin the other for a count of three wins,” the human blurted out.

“And if you win? Not that you will, of course, but if you do manage to win, what are you planning to ask of me?” the taller male inquired.

“Oh, prizes. Right. You could tell me your name. I mean, you haven’t actually told me your name, big guy,” the monk said, his tone flirtatious.

“Very well,” the youkai agreed.

“What about you? What will you ask me if you win?” Yoshi inquired, his curiosity peaked.

A secretive smile spread over the youkai’s teal lips, his keen eyes flashing with amusement. “I will keep that to myself, for now. But rest assured, as long as you do not attempt to go back on your promise to keep this fight fair, I will not ask too much of you when I win.”

“You’re awful cocky. I like that,” Yoshi said, answering the other man’s smile with a smirk of his own. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

***

“Well now,” the youkai purred, his muscular body pressing Yoshi down onto the grass in all the right ways. “It looks like I’ve won our little sparring match.”

“Yeah,” the monk managed to say, his mouth suddenly dry. Oh man, this wasn’t good. He was definitely heating up in a way that was going to be very obvious, very soon. The youkai tilted his head to look at him, his golden eyes glinting in what he hoped was interest… but it could have been amusement.

“What to do with you, my little human warrior. You’d make quite the prize if I were to kidnap you away to my castle,” the youkai said, his voice deliciously deep.

“You live in a castle?” Yoshi asked, but his body was simply agreeing with the other man’s suggestion whole-heartedly. Blood rushed to his cheeks as the youkai leaned closer, his plump lips nearly brushing the monk’s ear.

“My name is Baron Draxum, and yes, pretty human, I live in a castle.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Yoshi said, stunned.

“With abs like these?” Draxum purred, running sharp, yet deceptively delicate fingers down the monk’s chest. “You are most certainly a very pretty specimen.”

“Yeah, well you’re not so bad yourself,” Yoshi shot back, taking the opportunity to wrap his arms around the taller man’s waist.

“You’re rather presumptuous for a man who was just defeated,” Draxum exclaimed, but his voice trailed off into a low chuckle.

“Guess I’m just that kind of guy. Fair warning, if you don’t get off me, I’m going to kiss you,” Yoshi announced, loosening his grip on the other male’s waist. Just in case.

“Are you now?” the youkai answered. “I think you’ve forgotten which one of us owes the other a prize.”

“And what would Baron Draxum desire for a prize?” the monk asked teasingly. Gentle claws traced his cheeks, before the youkai surged down, pressing teal lips against his. Yoshi could only groan, his fingers curling around the larger man’s back. He could feel Draxum’s thick thighs pressed between his legs, and it only made his body burn hotter. A single clawed hand stroked down his chest, tweaking a darkened nipple, before sliding down further to cup his rear possessively.

Yoshi let out an unmanly squeak, his arms rising to clench around his lover’s firm upper back. They ground against one another, barely noticing the sun starting to sink in the distance. With one last twirl of his tongue, the youkai leaned back, smirking at the monk’s disheveled state.

“This was quite an unexpected delight, but I must take my leave. Perhaps I shall return to spar with you again in the near future, son of the Hamato clan,” Draxum purred, pushing himself to his feet. Without a backward glance, he strode back to the stream to pull on his robes.

“Yeah, that would be fun…” Yoshi had just gotten to his feet when his lover’s words finally pierced his kiss-fogged mind. His head shot up, his jaw dropping in amazement. “You know who I…?”

“It wasn’t difficult to deduce. The Hamato temple is not far from here, and you are quite well trained in martial arts. Now, are you going to give me your true name, or shall I keep calling you Lou Jitsu?” Draxum asked, clearly amused at the thought of the human trying to trick him.

Sighing in defeat, Yoshi rubbed the back of his neck, and stepped forward, looking up at his new lover with a hesitant smile. “You’ve got me. It’s Yoshi. Hamato Yoshi. Sorry for the ruse. I didn’t want to spook you away.”

“Because I’m quite the – looker – as you put it,” the youkai chuckled, reaching out to pull the bare-chested man into a last, soft kiss.

“Yeah. Definitely a looker,” Yoshi sighed, stepping back reluctantly once the taller man had released him. “No jokes… Will I see you again?” The youkai raised a brow, but nodded, the smile of on his lips echoing a promise for another day.

“Okay, I’ll see you later. Don’t be a stranger,” Yoshi said, even as he watched Draxum heft the delicate basket into the crook of his muscular arm. The youkai nodded at him, before striding off in the opposite direction of the Hamato temple.

It didn’t take long for Draxum to reach the side of the waterfall. As the monk stood in awe, the youkai bounded up the side of the rocky cliff, as agile as a mountain goat. Once he’d reached the top, the baron turned to look at him, his lips quirking into a smile. Yoshi gave a little wave – no, a very manly wave, and was delighted when Draxum responded with a single raised hand in his directly. Soon, even the youkai’s luscious red hair was out of sight, and Yoshi forced himself to turn away. Reaching for his robe, he haphazardly shrugged it on, and tied the belt into place, before beginning his long walk back to the village.

Baron Draxum. A youkai with the body of a god, and a voice as smooth as silk. If his family found out, they’d disown him. And yet, the young monk couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing his teal-skinned lover again. Never tasting his warm lips, or feeling his rock-hard muscles. They hadn’t even gotten into each other’s pants yet! Yoshi could only wonder, and fantasize, about what he’d find under the taller man’s loin-cloth. Little Yoshi was perking up again, the young man realized. Good thing it was getting dark.

Wait a minute. It was getting dark! He was still pretty deep in the woods. It wasn’t like anyone was going to see him if he took care of his little… his big and manly issue! Nodding to himself, Yoshi took another quick glance around, and then settled himself down at the base of a thick-trunked tree. “Mmm… I bet Drax is nice and thick,” Yoshi murmured to himself, even as his hand drifted down his pants.

***

“How unexpected. It seems my new pet is even more delightful than I imagined,” Baron Draxum purred, watching the young man bring himself to completion. He’d done the right thing by conjuring up a scrying spell to keep an eye on the monk. All in the interest of making sure the human got back to his temple in one piece, of course. He certainly hadn’t expected Hamato Yoshi’s little show, but he wasn’t going to deny that it was leaving him rather… frustrated, as well.

“The next time I see him, he won’t be wearing pants for long,” Draxum promised, eager to return to his castle for a bit of alone time himself. Just the thought of defeating the cocky little human warrior, and then pinning him to a tree was enough to have him breaking into a run. He would not resort to fondling himself in the woods like some low-class youkai, but he could not fault his pretty pet from needing a bit of release — the man was only human, after all.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #baron draxum #lou jitsu #slash #baron draxum x lou jitsu #fanfiction

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foxtophat · 5 years ago

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HEYYYYYY BUDDY!!! guess what? it’s 6:30 and i haven’t had a chance to get onto my animal crossing fishing tourney yet so i’m gonna keep this short!

today’s chapter is about nick and john (as usual), and their trip out to the river to check some animal traps. i know, it sounds exciting, but trust me it gets better. you’ll just have to read to find out how!!!

i really appreciate all of you guys reading and reblogging and liking and commenting and kudosing and just being fantastic people all around! it’s so wonderful seeing people enjoying my work and i know i say it every time, but i MEAN IT every time! i really really appreciate you guys!

below the cut is the chapter text for all those non-ao3 people (or people who are lazy and have xkit like me). if you enjoy what i’m doing and haven’t already hit me up, i love hearing what you guys think! you know the rest of this part probably: likes, reblogs, comments, kudos, etc etc are all super cool and i would appreciate them, but i also know we live in hectic times so don’t worry yourself. you do you okay!!!

now off i go to catch some fish!!! enjoy nick and john being full dumbasses for 4,000 words!

Nick knows that Carmina's runny nose, itchy eyes, and sore throat are from allergies. He's sure Kim knows it, too. But Carmina has only had one other allergy attack in her life, and today's heavy pollen has left her a miserable, bedridden wreck. It particularly sucks that it had to be this morning, because Nick and she were going to check the traps, which means she was already half out of bed before the real misery began. She hasn't been truly sick since she was four, and Nick is hoping that they can keep that streak going for the foreseeable future, so of course he isn't going to push her to come — it's just too bad, is all.

Of course, with Carmina bed-bound and Kim in anxiety mode over it, Nick doesn't have a lot of choices when it comes to checking the traps. Either he leaves them out there for some predator to take advantage of, or he trusts John to have his back out in the woods. Considering everything that's happened, Nick is fairly confident that John isn't a threat, but that doesn't mean he can't have some lingering reservations. After all, John has been a decent person for less than a year. He might be getting the hang of it now, but that doesn't mean it won't be easy to backslide into bad habits if he's given the chance.

John killing him is a toss-up, but there's no doubt Kim will murder him if he heads off on his own. So, once Carmina is bemoaning her fate in bed and Kim has her under control, Nick meets John downstairs.

"Lucky you," he says, interrupting John mid-breakfast. "Looks like you and I are going on a trip."

Although John looks at him as though he expects it to be a short trip out behind a barn, he manages to respond with a balanced amount of sarcasm. "I thought I wasn't supposed to leave," he says, accidentally pulling off a great impression of Carmina in the middle of an argument.

"Well, you already broke that rule, what's one more time gonna hurt? C'mon, Kim will kill me if I go by myself, and I'm pretty sure she might kill you if you hang around and stress her out more."

It's the first time since bringing John home that he's left the property, not that it's a particularly exciting first trip out. They aren't going very far — there are three traps set up along the river, easy enough to find if you follow the embankment — but John still keeps close, as if they're moseying down some foreign avenue and he doesn't want to get lost. Nick knows the route pretty well by now, but he's willing to take it slow so that John might memorize some of it himself.

"Strange how little things have changed out here," John says after a while. "I was expecting a blighted hell-scape, but all of this seems... normal."

"From what I've heard, the greenery took some time coming back, so we missed most of the actual apocalypse. I guess nature had a pretty big leg up without all the people around."

John hums neutrally in response. Nick glances his way, expecting him to be lost in some dark thoughts like he usually seems to be, but John is only observing the tall, thin trees and their patched canopies. Either he's getting better at handling his inner turmoil, or he's gotten better at hiding when he's spiraling.

"I guess you didn't get to see much lying in that ditch I found you in, huh?" Nick asks. Despite himself, he's not trying to be a dick about it. He's just curious, is all — John doesn't talk about his bunker or the circumstances that brought him topside where Nick could find him. For all Nick knows, John was up and running around for days or even weeks before he got sick.

"Not really," John admits. "Although from what it looks like, not much has changed."

"Yeah. You'd have to go into town to really see the difference."

At the mention of town, John's neutral silence turns noticeably uncomfortable. "I suppose I would," he says, hedging awkwardly around the topic. It's the same routine he pulls out every time Nick or Kim mention going to public spaces, especially this past month or so. Nick understands his reservations — hell, you couldn't pay Nick to go somewhere where he would be as unwanted as John would be in town — but Nick also doesn't want John to hide for the rest of his life. He doesn't think he can keep a secret that long.

John surprises Nick by taking it one step further. "They have enough to worry about without my inglorious resurrection making things worse," he admits, offering his first genuine reason not to go beyond not wanting to be killed by a mob.

Nick chuckles. "That's awfully considerate of you," he teases. He's managed to find a balance between antagonizing and friendly ribbing, although the difference is probably lost on John. "At this rate, you might convince people you're a whole other person."

Almost immediately, Nick regrets the suggestion. It would be relatively easy to fade into anonymous obscurity if John wanted — not that he thinks John would want to. Nick just doesn't want to be the guy giving him bad ideas.

"It's simpler to stay here," John replies, sounding as though he'd dismissed that option a while back already. "Safer. If Jacob taught me anything, it was that I wouldn't make it one week by myself in the wilderness."

It's another first to have John mention his family outside of verbally disowning them for other people's comfort. Nick wants to pry up those floorboards in particular, because the brotherly relationship between the youngest and oldest Seed had to be a bizarre one, but John's pensive enough about it without him digging further. These are the baby steps that Kim's always talking about — he has to let them be small, and let John take them when he's ready.

They eventually reach the clearing, where scraggly trees give way to what used to be the river's embankment. With the river having moved some ten yards, the land has been left open to grow thick with weeds and vines. The traps they set out here tend to have the best luck; even Carmina's earliest snares managed to catch squirrels and rabbits all the time. Since it's been a couple of days since they last had meat beyond old jerky, Nick is especially hopeful that they're going to get lucky again today. The more traps that they fill, the more food they have, and the more food they have, the more they can trade and give away. Nick isn't sure if paying Grace's trust back with rabbits is going to work, but damned if he isn't going to try.

Unfortunately, it looks like something else got to the trap before them. Nick examines the fibrous old rope that had kept the trap anchored to the tree, which must have frayed enough for some predator to drag the cage down to the bottom of the incline. It's an old animal control trap from before the bombs, so it's unlikely to have broken, but Nick is not looking forward to making it down the embankment and getting mud up to his knees. Especially not while wearing his last pair of mostly-intact jeans.

"What are you doing?" John asks incredulously as Nick starts to gently pick his way through the brush down the slope. "That's a terrible idea."

"Suddenly you know so much about everything," Nick grouses. "We need that trap. I've got this, just stay there and —"

Nick hopes he never has to admit it again, but John is apparently right to warn him. The dirt under the thick foliage is loose and wet from the earlier rains, which Nick only realizes as he sinks his boot right into the root system of the vines holding the erosion at bay. He pitches down the hill, managing to bring up his arm a fraction of a second too late to save himself from going headfirst into the ground. His elbow takes most of the damage, followed immediately by his temple, ringing his bell so thoroughly that he misses the rest of his full-on tumble down the slope. He's face-first in the dirt one second, and face-up to the canopy the next, the world still spinning even when Nick is pretty sure he's hit the bottom.

Somewhere nearby he can hear the river, and all around him are deep green leaves and bright pink flowers. Sunlight shines in through the trees, and for a moment the amber light turns the world around him into an alien landscape. The plants rustle in the breeze; somewhere on the incline above, he can hear roots tearing through the dirt. They're miles away, on the contour just above him, and Nick struggles to focus on them.

Somebody is calling his name. How long has he been lying here? Dazed and aching as he is, Nick can't tell if it's been seconds, minutes or longer since he fell face-first down the hill. He doesn't want to move — his entire body aches, his ankle throbs, and there's a painful blooming knot behind his ear that tells Nick he definitely hit his head somewhere on the way down.

The sunlight shining down on him is blotted out as John Seed looms into view as he reaches the bottom of the embankment. Nick has trouble making heads or tails of what he's seeing at first, but as John approaches, he starts to make more visual sense. He's looking around the dirt, sliding his foot through the brush before every step. Nick doesn't know what he's looking for, but as soon as Nick catches sight of the rifle lying in the weeds nearby, he starts to get an idea.

He must see it at the same time as John does. As John reaches down to pick it up, Nick tries to come up with something more intelligible than a painful groan, failing miserably. John weighs the rifle in his hands, staring at it, largely ignoring Nick's struggling to move. Nick barely manages to push himself to his elbows by the time John sighs with noticeable relief, pulling the strap over his shoulder so that the rifle can hang harmlessly off his back.

He crouches down next to Nick, who's still struggling, even after the danger has passed. "Quit it," John tells him, reaching out to steady him before he goes falling back into the dirt. The relief he'd felt holding the rifle must've been short-lived, because he only looks concerned and mildly upset now. Nick can't help but think he's upset because Nick thought he was gonna shoot him. He should apologize for that, probably.

"Nick," John repeats.

"Ugh," Nick groans. "I think I smacked a rock on my way down." He reaches up to feel the back of his head, and it's only John's grip on his shoulder that keeps him from falling back again.

"Stop squirming," John sighs. "Just — stop ."

Nick hates to listen to John's orders, but he's the one who didn't go ass-over-teakettle down the hill, so he's sort of the de-facto leader for now. It's a hard sell, but it's not like Nick's got any options right now, so he has to let John feel out the back of his head and reserves his complaints to pained hissing every time John prods the throbbing spot on his skull.

He feels momentarily faint when John pulls his hand away and reveals his bloody fingertips, but John doesn't seem phased in the least. "Lucky for all of us, you didn't crack your skull open," he says, somehow managing to sound both irritated and relieved at the same time.

He looks around them, which reminds Nick for the first time that they're at the bottom of a steep incline that goes on for a good mile in either direction. They're gonna have to go up the hill, which means Nick is going to need to keep it together at least long enough to get up to the top.

"I can make it," he tells John, who tries to mask his concern under schooled irritation as he looks back to Nick. "C'mon, I just need a hand up."

"I don't think it's going to be as easy as you seem to believe," John replies.

Nick groans, trying to push himself up. He doesn't admit how relieved he is when John grudgingly comes to help. He pulls Nick up by both shoulders, easily enough that it unnerves the crap out of Nick, but what's he gonna do? Complain that John is strong enough to help him?

As soon as he tries to put pressure on his left ankle, Nick knows he's screwed. He bites his tongue for the first second or two, but the sharp glass twinge every time he tries to rest his weight on it is too much to bear. "Ah, fuck ," he hisses, ready to sink to the ground again, "Yeah, that's not good."

John grabs Nick before he can drop back down to the ground, taking the weight that Nick's leg can't handle. "Damn it," John grunts. "You couldn't have listened to me just once?"

Nick laughs like it's supposed to be a joke, but John only looks offended in response. He yanks Nick's arm over his shoulder and asks briskly, "Which way?"

Nick is still thinking of climbing back up right here, but with his leg like it is that's probably not a great option. "Uh, that way," Nick chooses almost at random, his only hunch that the northern bend might ease more than the southern one.

John doesn't say much while they walk. Nick doesn't either, mostly focused on keeping his weight off his foot and trying not to give in to the urge to lie down and nap for a decade or two. Every wrong step on his bad leg makes his vision gray around the edges, but John walks slowly enough that those become few and far between.

Nick can't believe that John has ever had this amount of patience within him, much less that he's using it now as Nick grunts and tries to maintain his balance. All of his weird television ads had made him seem intense and caring, and all of the Peggies seemed to find him comforting, but Nick had realized pretty quickly that it was all an act. Or, he'd thought it was, until now, finding himself being partially carried through the forest without even the pettiest of complaining.

The incline begins to ease. Nick has no idea how long they've been walking — it's either been minutes or hours, and it's not his job to keep track of that kind of thing right now. All he's supposed to do is keep calm and coherent. Mostly coherent. Awake, anyway.

"We'll go up here," John decides at one point. "Do you need to rest?"

"What?" Nick asks, blindsided by the question. "No. What?"

"Oh, good," John sighs, "I was wondering when the brain damage would show."

He seems offended again. Nick keeps accidentally offending him, which sucks. When Nick had wanted to offend him, he never managed to, but now he doesn't even have to try. He should probably apologize, but that would set a bad precedent, wouldn't it?

"Man, I don't know, just get me home already!"

John heaves an extremely frustrated sigh, accompanied by a heavy eye-roll, and then he and Nick start the long trek up the hill. It's slow, slow going; even without Nick's sprained ankle, the dirt is loose under the brush and every step could lead to either of them rolling back down to the bottom. Even so, John keeps a firm grip on Nick's arm, digging his boots into the hillside before helping Nick drag himself up. Not once does Nick think he's going to fall.

They stop to rest at the top of the incline. Nick flops down, almost lying back before remembering that he should probably keep awake. That's what you're supposed to do with a concussion. He hasn't had one since he was a teen, but it's sort of like riding a bike. Right?

After taking a minute to catch their breath, John pulls Nick back to his feet, taking noticeable care not to force more strain than necessary on his bad leg. It's not a long walk of shame from here, but Nick's making it difficult to go at any speed other than a crawl. Even though he's taking forever, and he has to stop every few feet, John remains oddly patient. Well, it's not really odd - most decent people would cut a guy with a busted ankle and a concussion some slack. It's just - well, John isn't most decent people. He isn't even any decent people. But he waits for Nick to catch his breath when he seems winded and doesn't comment on how easy it would be to throw him to the wolves like this. Nick's made plenty of jokes and off-color comments about that kind of thing, but now with the tables turned, John isn't giving as good as he gets, and the guilt is starting to gnaw irritatingly in his gut. He probably should apologize.

He doesn't, but that's mostly due to his struggle to keep conscious. The longer they walk, the weirder the world around him feels — fuzzy and distant, sort of unreal. He's more watching the situation unfold than experiencing it. He needs to sit down and rest. He needs to take a goddamn nap and try not to use his brain any more than he usually does.

John waits until they reach the airstrip to reveal his fraying nerves. "Kim!" he shouts, repeating her name one more time for good measure before muttering mostly to himself, "She is going to kill me."

"Welcome to my life," Nick replies, because John just wasn't quiet enough.

Kim rushes from the house before they've cleared the hangar, catching herself a few feet from colliding with them. She looks ready to fight, or run, or both , but instead, she hovers there anxiously. "What the hell happened?" she exclaims, trying not to raise her voice as Carmina watches them from the porch.

"I'm fine," Nick groans, waving Kim's concern away before it starts freaking him out. "Slipped down the hill is all."

John doesn't sound so blase about it as he tells Kim grimly, "I think he may have a concussion."

"I definitely have a concussion," Nick agrees, having forgotten about that part. "Sprained my ankle, too. I don't think it's broken, anyway..."

Kim sighs, relieved and exasperated in equal measures. "Come on, let's get him inside," she says, and to Nick's never-ending surprise, she willingly lets John continue supporting him. She lets them go by as she stops by Carmina, who looks sniffly but otherwise healthy. "Everything's fine," she tells her as John helps Nick into the house. "Your dad just slipped."

"I thought John wasn't supposed to have guns?" Carmina asks.

"Let me worry about that. Go ahead and read without me, I'll be back down in a minute."

When Kim catches up, John shrugs out from under Nick's arm, letting her take over supporting him as he goes to disarm himself. Every movement he takes is slow and deliberate, leaving no surprises as he carefully pulls the rifle from his shoulder.

"Just put it over there," Kim tells him, and to Nick's surprise, she doesn't give him a backward glance as she helps Nick up the stairs. She doesn't even indicate where "over there" is, she's so unconcerned with John having a firearm!

He manages to share a bewildered look with John before craning his neck becomes too much, Kim dragging him upstairs to the comfort of their room. "What are you doing," he hisses at her as she shoulders their way through the door. "You left him alone with the gun and Carmina ?"

Kim sighs wearily in response. "What did you do?" she asks as she maneuvers him to the bed.

He sits with a groan, immediately thinking of how nice a nap sounds right now, but Kim's hand on his shoulder keeps him upright. He can take a nap once they make sure he didn't do more than ring his bell. "One of the traps was down a hill, and... I guess I followed it. Really, Kim, it's no big deal."

"You should have been more careful," Kim scolds, although her worry is keeping her from chewing him out properly. "What if John hadn't been there?"

Nick waves a hand, probably too dismissively. "C'mon, you would've found me eventually."

Kim scowls at him until he almost apologizes, distracted only when she hears John coming up the stairs. "Okay," she says, "You need to rest. Don't move. I'll get you some water and we'll clean you up."

She leaves the room before Nick can argue any of the points. He huffs at her retreat, but at least she doesn't lock him in like she would whenever he got the flu. Probably because the lock doesn't work so well anymore, but Nick can pretend it's her trusting him not to get out of bed.

Through the crack in the door, he can hear Kim as she meets John out on the landing. It's only then that Nick realizes how dangerous all of this could be — but the actual threat doesn't feel as present as it used to with John. He's gone rotten-soft, apparently, but at least John isn't likely to take advantage of it. Not without some convincing, anyway.

"I tried to stop him," John says. "He wouldn't listen."

"Welcome to the club," Kim replies, which might be true, but ow . "Thanks for bringing him back."

John doesn't say anything to that. Nick closes his eyes, only to be surprised when John continues the conversation. "I know where the trap is," he says, "It'll only take an hour or two for me to go get it."

Kim clicks her tongue. "No way."

"It can't just sit there. And there are still other traps to check." There's a beat before John continues in frustration, "What? You can't possibly think I'm trying to escape ."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Kim says. "It's a family rule. Nobody goes out by themselves if they can help it. Don't worry about the trap, okay? We can get it later."

Nick doesn't hear John's response. He's not even sure there is one. After a quiet moment, Kim speaks again. "You can go in, if you want. I'll be back up in a minute."

"Yeah," John replies. His voice sounds really rough, enough so that he clears his throat and repeats, "Yes."

Even then, Nick doesn't quite expect it when John eventually enters the room. "You can come in, I'm not dying ," Nick groans when John hesitates at the door. It's enough to earn him a nasty look, which is better than the weird sickbed sympathy, and John shuts the door behind him with a lot of false bravado to make up for his discomfort.

Nick opens his mouth to make a joke about John using this chance to kill him, but the words don't come. It must be the concussion making him feel guilty even thinking about it. His brain is addled and he's thinking more about how hard John's been working now rather than how about how awful John was before. Still — it would be a low blow, and Nick is trying to be better than that.

"You... uh..." Nick clears his throat, the words rattling around in his head out of order until he shakes them into place. "You... really came through for me back there."

"What?" John asks, startled.

Nick is startled, too, because as soon as the words come out of his mouth, the months-long ball of guilt that's grown in his stomach eases somewhat. "Yeah," he admits. "It's probably the concussion talking, but, uh. Thanks."

You'd think Nick had tried to punch him with how John reacts. "You're welcome," he rasps, looking like he needs to sit down.

"Don't think this lets you off the hook or anything," Nick adds. "You're still a miserable bastard, and I still really dislike you, but at least I know I can trust you not to leave me for dead."

The word trust seems somehow worse than Nick's thanks. "You don't mean that," he says, like he can demand Nick change his emotions.

But Nick does mean it, and being told otherwise is frankly sort of irritating. "Of course I do. You think I would have taken you with me today if I thought you were gonna betray me?"

"I... hadn't thought about it," John admits.

"And would I have let you carry a firearm into the house if I thought you would use it on us?"

"You didn't have a choice in the matter."

Nick groans. "Jesus, John."

"Sorry," John snaps, not apologetic in the least as he points out, "It's not like I'm used to this."

"What, people trusting you?"

John doesn't have the chance to respond; before he can do more than look moderately offended, the door opens. Kim comes in with Carmina in tow, checking their expressions for just a second before letting Carmina follow her into the room.

"Everything good in here?" she asks, just in case.

"I could use a nap," Nick tells her, as if he hasn't been having a heart-to-heart with John Seed just seconds ago. When Carmina comes forward, she's got a stiff upper lip and an extremely worried pair of eyes, so he makes sure to smile big for her. "What's the matter, sweetheart? I just rolled my ankle."

She reaches over to hold his hand on the bed, which just makes him feel like an old grandpa about to give away his farm. "I'm sorry I didn't want to go," she sniffs, heavy with self-guilt. "It's just allergies, and I'm good at climbing. I would have been able to help."

Nick wraps both hands over hers, pulling her until she climbs onto the mattress with a little laugh. "It's okay," he tells her. "John handled it alright."

From the way John is standing, leaning towards the door, he probably doesn't want to stick around much longer, but he tries not to look like he's trying to escape when Carmina turns her big eyes on him. She's expecting him to say something to reassure her, but when all he does is stand like a deer in headlights, she loses interest.

"Okay," Kim says, with a damp piece of fabric in hand. "Let me clean you up so you can get some rest."

Nick obliges, mostly because he can't resist, and lets Kim lean him forward so that she can get a clear shot at the gash behind his ear. Carmina lays beside him, fingers wound in his shirt as she watches her mom work. For his part, John lingers close to the door, not running yet even though he has a clear escape route. He watches Nick hiss through Kim's care, going through a lot of effort to keep himself removed. It makes sense. John isn't part of the family, and even if he were, family seems to be close to a four-letter word when it comes to the Seeds. Still — they're edging around the six-month mark and even Nick has to admit, John's pulled enough weight around here to warrant a little more opening up on his part. After all, the bastard did just drag him home.

"Hey," he calls out, drawing John's uncertain attention. "Tomorrow, you and me will go finish the run."

Kim tuts at him like he's a five-year-old. "You don't even know if you're going to be on your feet tomorrow."

"I'm gonna be fine ," he grouses.

"Why don't we wait until you're feeling up to it, and then we can all go together?" Kim asks, as diplomatic as ever. "It's been a while since we could go somewhere as a family."

"Really?" Carmina asks, perking up. "Can we go swimming? Should we bring the fishing poles?"

Kim laughs gently. "We'll make a day out of it, sure."

" Finally ," Carmina sighs, laying her head on Nick's chest.

Nick isn't sure if John knows he's being included in the plans Kim is making or not, but he doesn't try to question it or run from it. He stands there, willingly letting the Ryes make plans around him, and watches with a complicated expression. Even in the face of familial love, though, John doesn't bolt. Nick can give him credit for that.

"Alright, I think that's it," Kim declares at last, once she's cleaned up Nicks cuts and double-checked his ankle to make sure it's only been sprained. "There's nothing left but for you to get some rest." Nick begins to ask a question, but Kim cuts him off with a smile. "You're coherent enough that sleep isn't out of the question. I'll keep an eye on you."

"Thank God. I feel like I just got dragged a mile up-hill."

With a fond shake of her head, Kim pushes herself off the bed, moderately surprised to see John still standing near the door. "I'm sure we can find something for you to do," she tells him.

John nods in response, but he doesn't move until Kim approaches, ushering him out the door. She turns at the doorway and addresses Carmina, who seems to be pretending to be asleep for the moment. "Don't keep him up too long, sweetheart," she says. "He needs to rest."

"Okay, mom," Carmina mumbles, just like a sleeping girl might if she weren't lying. Kim rolls her eyes, leaving the door cracked as she heads out into the hall.

Nick and Carmina lie in bed for a few minutes without talking. Nick starts to drift almost immediately, although he suspects Carmina is about to start talking any time now. Sure enough, after the comfortable silence passes between them, Carmina tugs gently on his shirt to get his attention.

"Does this mean I can talk to John without you getting mad, now?" she asks.

Nick groans quietly, wrapping an arm around her. "He might not like that," he points out, because it's more diplomatic than saying "no" outright.

"Dad..."

He heaves a sigh. "It means... I don't know what it means." He runs his hand through her hair, closing his eyes. "I don't trust him with you, sweetheart," he admits at last. "But you're getting old enough to start trusting your own gut on this kind of thing. Just... listen to the voice that tells you if something's a bad idea. If John does something that raises that voice, you come tell me or your mom."

Carmina breathes quietly for a moment. "Mom said he hurt you," she mumbles.

"Yeah," he replies. "Yeah, he definitely hurt me." He drops his free hand over his chest, right across the raised scar near his heart. "It was a long time ago, though. And I don't think he's gonna do it again."

"But you don't know?"

"Nope." Checking her expression, Nick can't help but chuckle when he sees her frustration plain as day. "Some things are unknowable, Carmina — especially the future. All you can do is trust your instincts. Your mom and I never knew how bad things were gonna get, but when my gut told me to stock the bunker, I listened to it. And when your mom's instincts told her it was time for us to go topside, we listened. So far, so good."

Carmina's irritated frown softens as he talks, but Nick still worries that he's gonna say the wrong thing. He's always worried about it with her. Carmina is smart, but kids see everything in black and white, and he doesn't want to accidentally turn his kid into someone like Hurk. Then again, Hurk is still alive and comfortably set up with weapons and alcohol, so maybe he isn't such a bad guy for Carmina to emulate.

Oh, he definitely needs to take a nap if he's starting to consider Hurk a decent role model. "Daddy's gonna close his eyes for a bit," he says, well after his eyes have already drifted shut.

"Me too," Carmina mumbles. Nick isn't about to push her away, and so thankfully, he gets to fall asleep to the sound of his daughter's gentle breathing, her small fingertips resting against the scar tissue that he's been trying to hide.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #fcnd #new dawn #john seed #nick rye #kim rye #far cry fanfic #my fic

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aiyakuma · 4 years ago

Text

Chappie Zwei (Pathfinder X Reader)

(Chapter two of Finding the Path to Your Heart on Wattpad, a SFW robot X human fanfiction)

It was a little frightening at first, but I quickly got the hang of boosting down. Just kidding, I screamed and spun out of control the entire way down. As soon as we landed in the Market, Bangalore and Wraith wasted no time running around and gathering weapons while I tried keeping this morning’s breakfast down the back of my throat. “So I can just pick up any weapon I see?” I asked once I’d regained my composure. Wraith stopped to roll her eyes at me. “Duh. What else are you gonna fight with, your fists?”

“Psh, maybe I will fight with my fists. My fists to your face. Heh- ow!” I muttered. Going into the only unopened room, I immediately stubbed my foot on a Havoc. “Woah, sweet!” By the time I was fully equipped, my teammates were ready to hit the road before anyone else showed up. We began heading towards the Bunker, but as we neared the gunshots in the distance were getting much louder.

“Looks like there’s a couple squads over here. I’ll set up a teleporter in case we have to fall back,” Wraith said as she disappeared, leaving a strange glowing orb behind.

“Good, I’ll pop out the smoke and we can take them by surprise. You know what you’re doing, right kid? Don’t mess this up,” Bangalore slapped my back lightly, but she wasn’t mean about it. Her tone sounded almost… endearing?

I couldn’t be the only one not doing anything. That, and I was too afraid to fight anyone head-on yet. “I-I’ll go behind them and set up my turret!” I exclaimed before quickly diverging paths. There were around five people total battling it out between the Bunker and the outlying houses. While Bangalore began picking a couple off and Wraith finished setting up her portal, I dropped to my knees and slid off the dormant turret that sat on my back. With just a few cranks and twists, it soon became a fully-functioning platform ready to shoot down whoever came too close. Already its first victim approached, a man in yellow running straight towards me. Turry immediately started firing, and I watched excitedly as bullets ran straight through the man like dust. Wait a second, they were going straight through him? “He’s right there, why aren’t you shooting correctly?! Don’t tell me you’re malfunctioning!” I wailed while frantically pressing buttons on the control panel.

“Too bad, looks like you’re gonna have to get a refund on that one,” a cocky man’s voice said from behind me, and I turned to meet face-to-face with the tunnel of a gun pointed between my eyes. I fell onto my back and frantically rushed for my gun, but Turry had already beaten me to it. In its last few seconds, the turret shot the man in the chest a couple times before shutting down to recharge. As he stumbled back with his chest held in pain, I pressed the trigger on my Havoc and didn’t stop firing until he crumbled to the sand. To finish him off before he crawled away, I grabbed him by the shoulders and whacked his head good and hard again Turry.

“H-Hey, I did it! I beat someone!” I told my teammates over transceiver.

“...Good job Rookie. We got the other guy too, looks like that squad’s finished. Let’s deal with this second squad now, they’re still hanging around somewhere,” Bangalore said. But first, I had to heal up - the man I just K.O.ed landed quite a bit of shots on me too, after all.

I ran into a random house and let out a sigh of relief as I began injecting a syringe. Only, there was an enemy Gibraltor doing the same thing right across from me. Bullets immediately flew my way, and all I could do was run upstairs to escape. Just my luck, Lifeline and Pathfinder were waiting for me there too. “AAH! SPARE MEEE!” I cried as I darted past them and out the balcony door. Nope, no way in hell I’m fighting three people with such low health. Heading for the portal, I left the squad to be dealt with by Wraith and Bangalore while I began to frantically heal up on the other side. I thought I wasn’t in danger anymore, until Pathfinder grappled towards me and shot me to the ground in seconds.

“You did a really mediocre job, friend. Maybe next time you’ll do really good!”

I knew I was defeated, but I wasn’t happy about it. I threw one last weak punch at his leg, something that hurt me more than it did him. “Don’t tease me, I did my best! Just finish me off already.” Hanging my head low, I waited to experience a blow similar to the one I dealt the magician guy earlier. It was much easier to anticipate that, anyways, then it was to anticipate the shame I caused for my family and the disappointment from my teammates. I knew Apex wasn’t for me. I made a dumb mistake and now everyone will think I’m…

But instead of a blow to the head, I felt a blow to the chest in the form of a revive shot. In a matter of seconds, Pathfinder had wrapped an arm around me and slowly brought me back to my knees. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Y-yeah… I mean, but why would you help me?”

“It wouldn’t look too good if you died so quickly on your first match. Consider this a second chance to prove yourself!” He gave a thumbs up.

I could have cried right then. “Thanks, thank you so much! My family would have disowned me for sure if I went out like that!” Without thinking I embraced him, to which two sheepish arms gently embraced back. “Sorry, force of habit,” I said. Pulling away from him, I swore I saw a blushing emoji on his screen before he gave it a couple good knocks back to its normal smile.

“It’s no problem. Next time I run into you though, I won’t be as helpful. This is every sentient being for themselves, after all!”

“Hey, and next time I run into you I won’t be a chicken and run away. So you better watch your back!”

“Looking forward to it!”

Our conversation was interrupted by Wraith and Bangalore on the transceiver. “I’m low on health, falling back to the portal.”

“Solid copy, right behind ya.” We both looked at each other, knowing it was time for him to depart. “Take this med kit and heal yourself up. See you later!” He handed me a big red box from god knows where and grappled back to his team. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt a little sad watching him leave. Maybe it was because he was so nice, nicer than anyone I’ve met in Apex so far… in fact, he was nicer than most of the people I’ve known my whole life. The wealthy circle of elites wasn’t exactly full of saints, after all.

“What are you standing around for, mouth breather? Heal up before I down you myself.” A snarky voice came up from behind. At any rate, I’d much rather have that robot as a teammate than Wraith…

#apex #apex legends #pathfinder #fanfiction #fluffy

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sometimesiwriteangst · 5 years ago

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Again (Chapter 24)

TW: Domestic abuse (parental and relationship), homophobia, anger, flashbacks/panic attacks, nightmares.

In case anybody is interested in a bit of Again.

AO3

“Roman, we’re going to be late, do you have to take all those books?”

Deceit smirks at Logan’s words, the logical man sighing heavily as Roman shoves in another Shakespeare play.

“But I need all of them!”

“Next time, listen to the tutor. That way you’ll know exactly which book to bring, instead of panicking at the last minute,” Logan says bluntly.

Deceit snickers slightly at Roman’s indignant gasp, and shakes his head.

“Just grab the ones most likely to be used, Ro, or we’re going without you,” he teases lightly, “I’ve got philosophy and I really need to be seen as a good student after last year...”

There’s a loud huff, but soon enough Roman is saying goodbye to Virgil and Patton, and running after them, complaining about how mean they are. But Deceit still smiles, feeling at peace with the casual and friendly complaints.

“Doing okay, Mister...um...damn I have no nickname ideas this morning...”

Deceit chuckles and nods.

“I think I am, yeah.”

Dear Me,

Elliot hasn’t spoken to me since the incident, and they’ve changed classes. I don’t know if that’s because of me, because of my ex, or if that’s one and the same reason right now.

I mean, I feel like working against my ex is just causing more and more trouble. And I don’t want trouble...I also don’t want Elliot in trouble. Everything feels like so much more, if that makes sense. And honestly – the irony there – even if it doesn’t make sense, I don’t care. My emotions aren’t here to make sense, they’re here to just be.

And that should be okay.

I think.

Deceit wakes up at 11pm every night, if he manages to fall asleep before then. And then he’s unable to sleep again until 2am. He finds himself breathing deeply, shaking in his bed and trying desperately to calm himself.

“A...B...C...” he keeps it up, slowly going through the alphabet until the initial wave of panic passes, slowly fading in lieu of the slightly less intense anxiety.

He knew perfectly well why this strange night time habit kept up. The memories, the way he was used to being awake at this time...or being woken up…

“It’s fine,” he tells himself, curling up, “I’m safe now. He’s not here. I’m safe.”

Years of lying to himself catch up, and he just can’t believe his own words. And he hates it. He can’t trust himself, and sometimes he still catches himself not trusting others. There’s no winning, it seems. Or perhaps that’s a cognitive distortion caused by sleep deprivation and trauma.

“...it’s okay,” he whispers again, trying his best and tightening his grip on the blanket wrapped around him, “it’s fine...just a couple of hours and we can go back to sleep...”

It was hard. It was always hard. Every night, dealing with the same worries and flashbacks and intrusive thoughts and internal conflict. It was tiring, and yet he still couldn’t sleep.

Not until two am, at the very least.

And then it’s back to the nightmares.

Dear Me,

I hate conflict and hearing people argue. Anger makes me nervous. Logan and Virgil argued who was going to wash the dishes the other day, and I had to go hide in my room for a bit. I don’t think they realised why, thankfully. I don’t like admitting my anxiety over that.

Sometimes I just freeze up. I guess I feel like...if I just stay still and don’t do anything, maybe I’ll be safe. It was usually the safest way to deal with my ex, after all. Just stay still, don’t mess up. If you don’t do anything, you’ll get yelled at but you probably won’t get hit.

Don’t get me wrong, I think I’m doing better! But some of the fears just won’t budge. I guess we can heal the wound, but scars take longer to fade.

Which sucks, not gonna lie. I hate it.

“I hate feeling angry at him,” Deceit admits to Dr Picani, “I feel like I’m supposed to forgive him and just...move on with my life. But it’s hard, and he’s just...walked back into my life. Even if I don’t see him a lot, he’s there...you know?”

Deceit looks down at his lap, fidgeting with his hands, picking at his nails. Maybe he should ask Remy to do his nails, the enby was great and had so many colours. Maybe black. Or yellow. Or both…

He sighs, trying to keep his mind on track in time to hear Dr Picani.

“You don’t have to forgive him,” Dr Picani replies gently, “you’re allowed to feel angry.”

Angry. The word, the feeling, it runs through him like a jolt of electricity. All the times he was denied the chance to be angry, to fight back, to argue that his treatment was wrong. All the times his boyfriend then lashed back out in anger, snapping and shouting and hurting him.

Anger was bad, surely. He didn’t want to be angry. He didn’t want to risk being like him.

“Of course I have to forgive him,” mutters Deceit, folding his arms, “that’s what you do, right? The narrative is always forgiveness, moving on and all that shit...but I don’t feel...able to.”

Forgive and forget – he was so fed up of the narrative that forgiveness was the end goal. He didn’t want to forgive him. He didn’t want to pretend he could ignore or get over or be okay or whatever else forgiveness was meant to be. A lack of anger perhaps? How could he not feel angry at his treatment?

“And that’s okay,” Dr Picani insists, “your feelings are valid.”

Deceit blinks, jerking his head up to stare at the counsellor, who smiles warmly. There was something nice about that sentiment. He just wasn’t sure how much he believed that right now.

“...I feel fixated. How is that...”valid”? It’s like an obsession, Picani. I feel stuck in these feelings, and I can’t get myself free...”

Deceit breathes deeply, fiddling with his nails again. However calm he was, he inevitably ended up feeling like he was being overdramatic, especially in these sessions.

“I...I know I’m getting better,” he adds softly, “I’m being more social, and I’m doing the things I need to do to help stay...in the present. But sometimes I feel like I’m not getting better...fast enough, you know? I’m sure I’ve been in recovery for far too long.”

He frowns when Dr Picani chuckles slightly, but the counsellor simply shakes his head.

“There’s no such thing as too long,” the counsellor reassures him, “everyone heals at different rates, Dee. You don’t need to worry about time. You’re healing at your own pace, and that’s exactly how it should be.”

Deceit groans, because he knows that Dr Picani is right. Healing was slow and tiring and took so much time and energy. Sometimes he just hated having to acknowledge it.

“It’s going to be worth it, right?” he asks, trying to pretend the question wasn’t cutting deep.

“It will be,” Dr Picani reassures him again, “it’s going to be okay, and it’s going to be worth it.”

And so Deceit smiles, just slightly.

“Thank you.”

Dear Me,

So apparently there’s such a thing in abused children, or children from dysfunctional families, called “toxic family roles”. People tend to fall into different roles, like “the troublemaker” or “the lost child”. I was trying to see if there’s anything similar for domestic abuse survivors.

And wow, can we acknowledge that I just referred to myself as a domestic abuse survivor?

Deceit throws his arms around Virgil from behind, the typically anxious boy not even blinking, simply continuing to work.

“Hey Dee,” Virgil says, not looking up, “you good?”

“...yeah, actually...been practising those breathing exercises you do...they’re helping more now.”

Virgil looks up and smiles, relaxing Deceit a bit. “That’s good. I told you, you gotta practice these things to get the most out of them.”

Deceit nods, humming to himself as Virgil goes back to working, then lets go, instead coming around to sit beside him. It wasn’t that long ago that he would have hated admitting Virgil was right. That anyone was right. Sometimes admitting people were right felt like vulnerability, which was something Deceit hated, even as he tried not to.

“Hey, Virgil, can I ask you a sensitive question?” he asks finally, breaking the pesudo-silence.

(It wasn’t really silent, Virgil was a loud writer. Scratch scratch scratch.)

Virgil closes his book, putting it down before breathing deeply and nodding.

“Sure. I, uh, I guess so...go for it.”

“I can-”

“Go for it, seriously.”

Deceit still hesitates before asking, and blurts it out like Virgil so often did - “how did you deal with your parents? Did they try to put themselves back into your life?”

He internally curses himself for a moment for asking what he was actually wondering. He just needed advice from someone else, someone who had been through similar things.

“I mean...kind of. It took me a while to find a way to move out...things were rough in the meantime...” Virgil takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “They...called me a lot of names. My mum hit me a lot. My dad kept threatening to kick me out. It wasn’t a good time in my life.”

“I...I’m sorry...”

Deceit is sorry for asking. And sorry for messing up and letting his ex take his phone. No, no, that wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t. But he still felt bad, and was still sorry for it.

“It’s fine...I mean, it is now. I moved out as soon as I could, which was in my Junior year, towards the end. Got a job cleaning the local hospital, found a friend to move out to...you remember Kai, right?”

Deceit thinks for a moment. “...The skateboarder who claimed he didn’t play games competitively cause he was embarrassed?” he asks, and Virgil nods.

“Yeah. He was a good guy...ended up going to freaking Harvard. I think he’s working on being a games developer, the nerd...” Virgil smiles fondly before sighing. “My parents pestered us a lot. A lot of phone calls, asking if I was there. A lot of threats. One time they turned up and we had to call the police.”

“That’s awful...” Deceit murmurs, looking down. “You...You’re really brave...ugh no, I hate that phrase...”

Virgil just chuckles though, shaking his head.

“It’s fine, I know what you mean. But, um...in the end, I got a restraining order and basically disowned myself. Uh, emancipated. It was a scary process.”

Deceit tilts his head, a bit confused. “Emancipated? ...restraining order? You can do that?”

He still can’t quite believe that he can ask that sort of question without being mocked and laughed at. The words of his ex run through his head, and suddenly it’s hard to breathe, hard to think. The thoughts of how stupid he is run through his head. He can hear his ex’s voice, loud and harsh in his ears. He can feel the sting of the inevitable slap.

No! No, we can handle this – breathe – breathe deep, we can do this!

He’s certain that Virgil is there, that Virgil is concerned or trying to help, but he just can’t register it. It’s too much, or too little, or something.

No...no, we have to do this. We can do this.

He takes a deep breath, forcing himself to hold it in, and then slowly releases it. He can’t remember the number of seconds it’s meant to be, not right now. But he still breathes, deep and slow. Holds it then lets it go. He forces himself into a rhythm.

It’s not a quick fix.

But slowly, the sting fades, his thoughts settle, just a little, and his ex’s voice becomes softer, harder to hear. And then he can feel Virgil’s hands gently resting on his shoulders, can hear his voice, firm and yet calm and comforting. There’s no pressure, just gentle reassurance that he’s safe and will be okay.

“I...I’m sorry,” he mumbles, breathing in slowly, “...I didn’t mean to...I mean...ugh...”

“It’s okay...how are you feeling?” Virgil rubs his back gently.

Deceit isn’t actually sure, and hesitates over his response. The urge to just lie was a bit too much. But he was trying, so hard, to tell the truth. He didn’t want to fall back into old habits. Who knew what other old habits he could fall into that way? He didn’t want to risk it.

“...I’m not sure. Okay, I think. I think I can manage...”

Virgil helps him back up onto the sofa – when had he fallen off? Deceit hated being so unaware of these things.

Virgil holds Deceit close, gently reassuring him with soft words, continuing until Deceit relaxes fully, the wave of self doubt and fear finally passing.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, “...I appreciate your help...”

“It’s no-”

The door swings open all of a sudden, causing both to jump as Logan comes running in, excitedly waving a letter.

“I got the medical internship!”

And like that the mood becomes better, excited, with Virgil and Deceit making sure to congratulate him as much as possible.

He deserved it.

Dear Me,

I think the five stages of grief apply to abusive relationships, sometimes. The denial that there is or was a problem. Then there’s the depression, and the anger...the bargaining I guess is more within the relationship once you do the denial part.

Alright, I suppose it’s more denial then bargaining then depression then anger.

I think for me at least, I’m finally understanding the damage he did. The damage he chose to do. And I’m finally getting angry over it. I hate it, I don’t want to be angry, but I didn’t deserve that. Whatever he said, I deserved better.

I’m just afraid of anger, including my own.

Deceit has to take a deep breath sometimes. It was getting easier to feel anger. Not anger at anyone, really. Just a deep, underlying anger about how he was treated. Anger at his ex-boyfriend for ruining so many years of his life, perhaps. All he knew was that sometimes it burned.

He breathes deeply as he prepares to enter his philosophy class. He was okay. He could do this. He just had to breathe. Count to ten, take a nice deep breath, and relax his muscles. He could do this. He could be calm, and he could control himself.

His anger at his ex and his abuse still burned, lingering like a fog around his mind, but he could sit and focus on the debate without getting angry and storming out. And he considered that to be an improvement, so he was happy.

After the class, his professor keeps him behind.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks nervously.

“Not at all!” the professor smiles, “you’re attending the law programme after this year, correct?”

Of course, Deceit nods, biting his lip. Surely the professor was going to tell him to give up? To quit, and not even try to do it?

“Well, I have an opportunity for a part time job in a law firm. It’s only a receptionist, don’t get me wrong, but they give frequent opportunities for internships and experience to law students that work for them. I think you should apply. You’d be good at it.”

Deceit blinks, and then frowns. He didn’t trust this.

“Why? Why me?”

To his surprise, the teacher doesn’t react as if caught out. They simply sift through some papers before smiling back at him again.

“”Because I’ve seen your progress, and think this will help you progress even further. You’ve shown a good work ethic, clear compassion, and dedication towards law. So, do you want me to email you the details so that you can apply?”

Deceit has to take a moment for the information to sink in. Work ethic, compassion and dedication? He wasn’t sure he should believe that. Hadn’t he been told he was lazy and selfish and ruined things?

No, that was my ex. He told me those things, so I shouldn’t believe him.

So really, there was only one answer.

“Yes please, I want to take this opportunity.”

And the anger feels a little less intense, but still there, fuelling something larger, something he couldn’t quite yet recognise.

But he thinks he’s ready for this, to take the leap of faith and apply for something new and exciting.

And the something inside burns brighter still.

#deceit sanders #virgil sanders #tw abuse #tw child abuse #tw homophobia #sympathetic virgil

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themurphyzone · 5 years ago

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104 Words For 104 Days: Recruit

I decided that I wanted to just write a bunch of short ficlets/oneshots of varying length for Phineas and Ferb. I made a New Year’s resolution to actually finish a story and I’m gonna do my best to keep it even when school starts up again.

For this collection, I decided to just set a random word generator to come up with 5 words, and I’d pick from the list provided. This series will also be posted to Ao3.

Carl sprinted to Monogram’s office, a stack of flyers in hand. With so many agents preferring to beat up mad scientists for their pay, OWCA was running low on office workers. It had taken 72 hours of sweat, tears, coffee, and screaming at his editing software, but he’d finally managed to design a recruitment poster that would hopefully attract possible candidates.

And since he did a good job on it, that meant he was one step closer to promotion! And once he got promoted to paid intern, he could reform OWCA, move up on the corporate ladder, fill the top positions with squirrels, and get Monogram to adopt him and disown Monty as his son!

“Sir! I did it!” Carl screeched, throwing the door open to Monogram’s office. “Recruitment rates will go through the roof now!”

“IT WAS FREDDY GOLDBERG’S IDEA!” Monogram screamed, jerking awake and almost spilling his coffee in the process. His eyes flicked to Carl, and he heaved a sigh. “I, uh, I’m not myself this morning. Apparently we ran out of specialty coffee beans and they expect me to put up with decaf. They expect a man of my position to drink decaf? I didn’t go through years of…the Academy-“ he paused, allowing dramatic music of no discernible source to play, “-deal with several repressed daddy issues, and work my way to major just to be told I have to put up with decaf! Carl, didn’t you buy more coffee beans before this crisis started?”

“Nope!” Carl exclaimed, shoving the stack of flyers at his boss. “I was working on recruitment posters! I like to think they’re pretty good!”

Monogram gingerly lifted the top paper off the stack, then edged his chair away from Carl. “Have you slept at all?” he asked suspiciously. “You seem a little…cuckoo.”

Just outside his office, Agent Chloe the Cuckoo squawked indignantly.

“Only when I crashed, sir!” Carl grinned. Not even Monogram’s sharp tongue could faze him now! “But then I picked myself up and created these babies! No animal will be able to resist the subliminal messaging!”

“You know using propaganda is counterproductive to our status as good guys, right?” Monogram asked.

“Don’t care! I’m gonna make more! And then I’ll hang them up for all the city to see! And then you’ll adopt me as your son and I’ll have a bunch of trusted squirrel advisors! Who’ll be paid generously in nuts! Ahahahhahaha!” Carl giggled maniacally as he skipped away.

Slightly fearing for his life, Monogram activated the intercom. “Attention, agents. Unpaid intern has lost his marbles. Please use safety protocol 12 when handling him. I repeat, unpaid intern has lost his marbles. And on a more important note, the first agent to grab me a coffee that isn’t decaf gets two weeks of vacation.”

There was an instant stampede of fur, feathers, and scales.

Monogram took a closer look at the recruitment flyer, then grimaced and dumped it in the shredding bin.

He wouldn’t have OK’d those flyers even if Carl hadn’t been suffering from lack of sleep. He didn’t know much about advertising, but he was pretty sure the acronym “TAXIDERMY” would drive anyone away.

#carl karl #major monogram #phineas and ferb #ficlet #104 words for 104 days

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thetravelerwrites · 6 years ago

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Ironblood Interspecies Daycare

Rating: Teen Relationship: Male Orc x Female Human Additional Tags: Exophilia, Orc boyfriend, Daycare, POV First Person, First Person Perspective, Male Reader Content Warnings: Kids, Children, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Disowned Words: 5035

An orc running a daycare takes on a new employee and feels an immediate attraction to her, having to struggle with his own feelings of inadequacy to get close to her. Commission for @ban23.

The Traveler's Masterlist

You might think that running a daycare would be a weird job for an orc, but orcs are a clan-oriented people. Caring for and watching over the young is sort of ingrained in our nature. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

Of course, since my daycare is open to all species, we have quite a few kids. There are a lot of human-only care centers, orc-only, fae-only, and so on. They’re usually pricey and exclusive, so an interspecies daycare that takes lower income families was a boon to the community.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t take all the kids whose parents applied, which made me feel terrible. According to the law, there had to be one care worker per five children, and I only had four employees plus myself. I was hoping to expand, but I was having trouble finding more caregivers.

It wasn’t for a lack of wanting to pay more people, it was more a lack of experience. I didn’t hire weekend babysitters; I only hired people with professional experience in child care, whether it’s a degree or a teaching position or several years of homecare, like a nanny or au pair, accompanied with references that were nothing short of glowing. Just because these children came from poor families was no reason to think they deserved anything less than the best.

Thankfully, there was a new applicant with a degree in child psychology with a special focus on interspecies relations, and spent four years as a school counselor. She was also a registered nurse. She sounded perfect, and if hiring her meant we could take more kids, then that was all the better.

I had scheduled her interview after close of the business day, when all the kids had gone home. I always tried to be in the back when the parents arrived; some of the moms were… handsy.

After closing, the five of us gathered in the back area for coffee and so the others could grab their personal belongings to go home.

“Ms. Jones keeps asking if you’re single,” Jacob said as he grabbed his things from his personal cubby.

“Mrs. Peterson, too,” Said Emily, wrapping a scarf around her neck. “I swear she’s gonna start camping out near the front door to ambush you when you leave.”

“Please, Karen from the grocery store has been leaving notes with her weekly fees. I keep giving them to Jukah and he keeps throwing them away.”

“They’re wildly inappropriate and very graphic,” I said, sipping coffee and looking over invoices.

“Really? Oh, damn,” Jacob said. “If that’s the case, I’m going to keep them from now on, then. I’m not above living vicariously.”

“Why don’t you ask one of them out, Jukah? They’re clearly into you, and there’s no shortage of options,” Emily asked, putting on her coat. She was the only other person besides me who worked here that wasn’t human. She was a bright blue kobold with dark spikes along her jaw and two sets of horns. Her tail was smooth, however, and dragged the ground when she walked. She often let the smaller children ride on it to make them laugh.

“They’re too pushy,” I replied dismissively.

“I thought orcs liked pushy women,” She said.

“That’s a gross stereotype and you’re wrong for saying it,” You said playfully. “Different orcs have different tastes, just like everyone. I don’t push you toward every buff bodybuilder I see, do I?”

“Gross,” Emily said, her face scrunched up.

“See? Because I know you like skinny weirdos,” I told her, laughing.

She laughed too. “You’re right. I can’t even lie about it.”

“So what kind of woman do you like?” Esther asked me. She was the grandma of my employees, having been a pediatric nurse for decades and started working at the daycare because she refused to retire.

“Why are you people so interested in my love life all of a sudden?” I protested.

“Because it’s weird that all these women are literally throwing themselves at you and you’re not interested in even trying with one of them,” Kody said. Kody was non-binary and was a big help in teaching the kids to be respectful to each other.

“I keep my work life and my personal life separate,” I said simply. “End of story.”

To be honest, I really didn’t know why these women found me so appealing. By orc standards, I was considered extremely ugly. I’m about a foot and a half too short for an orc, and even though all orcs are born with a natural muscle tone, I was way too skinny. My tusks are too small, though that’s actually fine for my line of work. I even file down and cap them, just to be sure I don’t accidentally gore a kid when I pick them up. I don’t wear my hair long the way other orcs do, in braids or plaits; I keep it short so the kids can’t pull on it. I even catch flack because of my eye color, a flat turquoise, which is exceedingly rare among orcs.

It wasn’t just my looks that made me unusual among my people. I’d grown up in a typical stronghold, but I’m quiet, introverted, and self-conscious. I’ve never felt the same sort of personal pride that other orcs feel in being an orc. I don’t hunt or fight or spend my time in other typical orcish pursuits. Timidness and a lack hubris are seen as personality defects for my people. In the eyes of other orcs, I might as well be human, and that’s in no way a compliment.

My only redeeming features were my skin, which was the deep, dark forest green found most attractive among my kind, and my natural ability and instinct to care for and teach the young, which is a high priority in orcish culture. That’s probably the only reason I wasn’t thrown out before I came of age. When I was old enough, however, I left the stronghold with no intent to return, and I’ve never regretted that decision.

So, these womens’ attention, especially the more aggressive ones, is baffling to me. I’m nothing special, in fact, I’m downright substandard, so this new-found attention was jarring.

“Just think about it, man,” Emily said. “You’re a nice guy. It’s a shame for you to be alone.”

“Guys, seriously, stop worrying about me. I don’t need to have a girlfriend to be happy. Now git,” I said, waving my hands. “I have an interview to conduct in thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kody said. “Whatever you say, Boss.”

I shooed them out and started cleaning up the play area. I enjoyed the time alone in the daycare after work. It gave me time to think about ways of improving the atmosphere for the kids. It was always good to have new things for them to do or they’d get bored and tear the place apart.

I heard the front door open as I was stacking tiny chairs and a voice say, “Hi. Are you Jukah Ironblood?”

“Yes, I am. Can I help you?” I called over my shoulder without turning.

“I’m Briauna Ramos, I’m here for the interview.”

“Oh!” I said more animatedly. “Of course, come in, I’ll be right with you, let me just finish up here.”

“No hurry,” She said pleasantly, closing the door.

I picked up the last of the chairs, stacked them, and turned. And stopped in my tracks.

The woman standing patiently at the door with a expectant smile on her face was petite with thick thighs and a cute little belly, wearing a flowing yellow top with black jean leggings that did nothing to hide these features. Her skin was a deep brown and her amber-colored eyes were wide, framed in long, black lashes. Her hair was silky, wavy, a little fluffy, and fell to her shoulders. She wore a small barrette in the shape of a bee to keep it out of her eyes.

She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my entire goddamn life.

“Something wrong?” She asked, her eyebrows drawing together in concern.

I realized I’d been standing with my mouth open for about a solid minute and shut it so quickly that my teeth clicked.

“No, sorry, um… please,” I said, gesturing at the door to my office. Once there, I sat at my desk and motioned for her to take the chair on the opposite side. She lay her coat over the back and sat down, pressing her her cold fingers together and putting them between her thighs to warm them. I tried my best not to stare at her thighs. I wanted to put my own hands between them and feel how warm…

I mentally slapped myself back into reality. Stop it.

Her application was on the desk in front of me, and I riffled through the papers for a moment to collect my thoughts.

“You come highly recommended,” I said, attempting to keep my voice even. “Your references and credentials are incredible.”

“Thanks,” She said. “I’ve wanted to work in childcare my whole life. Working at the school was okay, but I actually didn’t have all that much to do. Most kids who need a counseling are already in therapy, and there wasn’t much need for a nurse most of the time, so I spent hours in my office with nothing to do. I want to work more directly with children. This daycare seems like a perfect place, especially since it caters to lower income families. They deserve the same degree of care as private facilities.”

I felt myself smile. “I completely agree. That’s why I only hire the best. And you’re pretty close to perfect for this job.”

She smiled with her whole face, and I found it hard to breathe. “Thanks. I’ve applied at a few places, but I like this place the most. The facility is large and clean, and the list of activities for the kids is diverse and stimulating. You seem like you really care about kids.”

“I do,” I said. “Providing a safe environment for them is my first priority.” I looked through her papers again. “We have a former nurse on our staff, but she’s no longer practicing, so your nursing status is great. We get all kinds of bumps and scrapes here.”

“I can imagine,” She laughed.

“Well,” I said with a tired sigh. “I’m satisfied with your experience and I think you’d be a good fit here. When would you like to start?”

“Well, I just moved to the area, and I’m getting my apartment unpacked. How about Monday?”

I nodded. “Sounds good to me.” I stood and held out my hand for a handshake. “Welcome to the team.”

She took my hand, shaking firmly, and it was like an electric shock passed from her into me, making my whole body tingle. I gulped and tried to keep my professional demeanor in place.

“Great, I can’t wait to start,” She said enthusiastically as she pulled her hand away and threw her purse over her shoulder. “I’ll see you Monday, Mr. Ironblood.”

“Oh, just Jukah, please. Formality goes out the window pretty quick in this place,” I said, laughing.

She laughed with me. I could listen to that laugh all day.

“Thanks again,” She said, and left. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t help sneaking a peek at her ample rear as she walked away. I said down heavily at my desk and tried to calm myself.

Well, shit. So much for keeping my personal and professional lives separate.

She arrived early on Monday morning, before the others got in, and you had a few minutes to show her around.

“This is your personal cubby,” I told her, showing her a cubby on the lower shelf. “You can keep your phone with you in the common area, but try to use it as little as possible. If you have to take a phone call, either come back here or go outside.”

“Gotcha,” She said. She was wearing a powder blue sundress and darker blue leggings with her hair in a tight, fluffy ponytail two tendrils of hair hanging on either side of her face. She looked adorable.

The others wandered in shortly after the two of us put our things away and I introduced all of them. They greeted her politely and engaged her in light conversation, asking where she was from and how she was liking town so far, as they started on the coffee and pastries I brought in for them every day.

I had about fifteen minutes before the daycare opened, so I went to the waitlist to notify the families at the top that I could take them. A couple of people had already found accommodations, but the ones who hadn’t were overjoyed, two of them even asking if they could fill out the intake paperwork that day.

A paper plate with a pastry and a cup of coffee was placed in front of me. I looked up, and Briauna winked and smiled at me before returning to the back room.

Oh, god. This was bad. Love at first sight doesn’t exist, I told myself. She’s pretty and sweet, sure, but this is just an infatuation. Don’t even think about it. Didn’t you just tell your team that you didn’t need a girlfriend to be happy? Besides, dating a co-worker is always a bad idea. She probably wouldn’t be into you, anyway. Just get a grip and let it go.

The children began arriving, and I was out front to greet them, dodging the over-eager mothers as best I could. Kody, Emily, Jacob, Esther, and Briauna came out of the back when they heard the children’s voices. They quickly fell into their roles, including Briauna, helping the kids take off their jackets and instructing them to put their shoes and lunches in their cubbies.

I’d say only a third of the kids were human. The rest were a mix of orcs, fae, beast creatures, and even a little half-demon girl. Most of the children were between the ages of two and five, though we did have a couple that were under two years old, and they were mostly Esther’s responsibility. She was the best at handling the babies.

“Okay, little ones, sit in the circle and play the quiet game for a minute,” I said to the group, and they scrambled to find a spot in the big, red sitting circle in the middle of the room. “We’ve got a brand new friend who’s going to be helping us out from now on. Her name is Briauna.”

Briauna waved at them and said, “Nice to meet you!”

“I want you guys to be nice to her,” I continued, “And stay on your very best behavior, okay?”

“Yes, Kah-Kah,” said the chorus of little voices.

“Kah-Kah?” Briauna asked in an undertone. “That must go over well with the Spanish-speaking parents.”

I grinned. “We’ve all got nicknames. Emily is Emmy, Jacob is Jay-Jay, Esther is Essa, and Kody… well, Kody doesn’t have a nickname, but theirs is easy to pronounce, even for the littler ones. Just wait, I’m sure you’ll have your own by the end of the day.”

Sure enough, the children had started calling Briauna Na-Na by lunchtime.

“Told you,” I said as we began laying them down for their afternoon naps. She grinned at me with the tip of her tongue between her teeth. I felt like slapping myself after wondering what that tongue might feel like on mine.

Naptime was when we took lunch. One of us was assigned to sit with the kids as they slept so that the others could eat, and there was a rotating schedule. Today was Kody’s day. I made a note to add Briauna to the schedule later.

“So, how was your first day?” I asked her over my club sandwich.

“Amazing,” She said. “It’s exactly what I was hoping for.”

“Yeah, the kids are great,” Emily said. “They almost make the pay worth it.” She grinned and stuck her forked tongue out of me. I reached out and whacked her spiny shoulder lightly.

“I wish I could pay all of you more,” I said a little regretfully. “We’re applying for low income care grant for businesses that involve children, and when the grant comes through, I’m hoping I can give you all bonuses.”

“Bonuses,” Jacob, Emily, and Esther all said in unison, like zombies.

Briauna shook her head and laughed softly. “Honestly, I don’t care about the money. Today was probably the best day of my professional career. If I didn’t need to eat, I’d do it for free. It’s exactly what I’ve always wanted. Kids deserve a good start, no matter who or what they are, or where they come from. I’m so happy to help do that for them.”

I stared at her in an awed silence, feeling as if my heart had taken up all the space in my chest, leaving no room for my lungs. There was no point in lying to myself anymore: I was head over heels in love with this woman.

I forced myself to look away from her, and ended up glancing at my other three co-workers, who had sudden knowing smirks on their faces. I scowled at them and lowered my eyes, eating to occupy my mouth so I wouldn’t have to answer questions.

Walking home that evening, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I knew myself well enough to know I’d never have the courage to just ask her out. I’ve never been that confident. All of my exes had asked me out, not the other way around. I thought about having someone ask her out for me, but I shook the thought out of my head with a grimace. This wasn’t high school. I was a goddamn adult and running my own business. I should be able to ask her out without a buffer.

Thinking that was easy, doing it was another thing entirely.

As I passed a novelty store, I stopped and looked in the window. There was a very tiny stuffed deer sitting in a little gift bag with chocolates cookies.

I stood there, staring at the stuffed deer. In the old days, orcs wanting to charm a mate would go through a courting ritual which usually involved hunting large game, like bears and deer and the like. I definitely wasn’t the hunting type, but… the point was to show your adoration through gifts, to show what you can provide for your mate. I certainly didn’t intend to leave dead animal on her doorstep, but I did want to offer her affection and companionship.

I ducked into the novelty store and bought the gift bag without really thinking about it. And now that I had it, I had no idea how to present it to her. I couldn’t just give it to her during work in front of the others; I was too self-conscious. I hadn’t seen her anywhere outside of work, so I couldn’t “accidentally” bump into her someplace else. I wasn’t going to show up at her house unannounced like a goddamn creep. I sighed, hoping I’d figure it out.

The next day, I was sure to get in before everyone else and hide the gift in my desk. As it happened, that day was my day to sit with the children during naptime. After the kids were sleeping and everyone went into the back room for lunch, I snuck quietly into my office, retrieved the gift, and slipped it into one of Briauna’s coat pockets.

After naptime, Briauna took out a book she’d brought from her own home and had all the little ones sitting in a semi-circle around her. She was naturally gifted at holding their attention. Well, not just theirs. I couldn’t stop staring at her.

I had put a high precedent on early education, so lessons on shapes, colors, numbers, and letters were a weekly thing. Not enough that it overloaded their still developing brains, but just enough to keep them engaged and help them retain the knowledge. We often did a flash card game with a points system, and the winner got a reward from the toy chest.

“You’re going to scare the kids if you keep making faces at Briauna like that,” Kody told me as they looked over the children’s worksheets.

I scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

Kody gave me a deadpan look. “Come on, man. I’m not blind. You’ve been staring at her all day. Hell, you practically drool. You’re really going to act like you’re not attracted to her?”

“Just drop it.”

Kody raised their hands in surrender, their eyebrows shooting up to their hairline. “Fine, fine.” They shook their head at you. “You’re a hot mess, you know that?”

“I’m more than aware, thank you,” I told them. Again, they shook their head and wandered off to set out the art supplies for creative time.

They rest of the day passed without incident. Briauna pulled on her coat without checking her pockets. I watched her with my heart in my throat as she left with the others. Kody shot me a meaningful look before following her out of the door.

The next morning, she came in with the giftbag in her hand.

“Who left this in my coat?” She asked.

“That was in your coat?” Emily said. “There’s no note or anything?”

“No, I found it in my pocket when I got home,” She said. “I thought maybe one of the kids put it in there, but the price tag on the bottom said it was, like, twenty bucks, and I don’t think toddlers keep that kind of cash on them.”

I winced internally. I’ll have to remember to take the tag off next time. I’d never done this before, so some mistakes were bound to happen. I’d have to be more careful in the future.

“So, which one of you gave me this? Jacob?”

Jacob snorted. “Girl, you cute and all, but I’m gay as the day is long. It was one of them,” He said, gesturing at the rest of us.

“Not me,” Kody, Esther, and Emily said in unison.

“What about you, Boss?” Emily asked.

I tried my best to look affronted. “Please, I spend enough money on coffee and donuts for you losers every day.”

“So, none of you are going to own up to this?” Briauna said. “Really?”

“Hell, maybe it was one of the kids, you don’t know,” Emily said.

Briauna rolled her eyes. “You guys are impossible.”

“You like it,” Kody said, grinning.

Two days later, a teddy bear and some caramels found their way into her pockets. A week after that, there was a stuffed tiger and gourmet hard candies.

On her day to sit with the kids at naptime, I brought her a coffee, and she whispered, “Who do you think is leaving me the presents?”

“Dunno,” I said. “Could be any of them, really. Well, except Jacob.”

“Not you, though,” She asked shrewdly.

“I’m your boss,” I said. “Wouldn’t that be inappropriate?”

“I guess,” She said, shrugging. “But I thought you said formalities went out the window here.”

I gulped my heart down. Thankfully for my slowly crumbling facade of professionalism, the soft bell that alerted the end of naptime went off, and it was time to get the kids up for afternoon playtime outside.

That evening, while I was alone in my office, I was going through this months invoices while also looking at edible fruit and chocolate arrangements on my phone, when I saw my office door open. Kody stood there, leaning on the doorframe with their arms crossed.

Putting my phone face down and fixing a neutral expression on my face, I said, “What’s up?”

“Dude, do you really think I don’t know what you’re doing?” They said.

“I’m filing invoices,” I said.

“Come on, man, you know what I’m talking about. I know you’re the one leaving Briauna the gifts. Esther’s married, I’m asexual, and Briauna’s not Emily’s type. It has to be you. You’re not that slick.”

I sighed. I knew they’d caught me. “Are you going to tell Briauna?”

“No,” They said. “You are.”

“I can’t,” I said, scrubbing my face with my hands.

“And why not?”

“A lot of reasons,” I replied, reclining in my chair.

“Name one,” They said.

“I’m… weird.”

Kody laughed. “We’re all weird, Jukah.”

“It’s...” You sighed. “I doubt she’d even be into me. I’ve got… a lot of baggage, and not everyone is strong enough or willing to carry it with me. Trust me, I know. Every girlfriend I’ve had has seemed to buckle under the weight.”

“So you’re saying she’s not enough for you?”

“No!” I retorted, sitting up. “I’m saying I’m not enough for her. This place,” I gestured at the walls. “It’s all I’ve got. I’ve got no family, no friends besides my co-workers, no life outside of my work. Hell, I don’t even have my health. I’m a shit excuse for an orc. I mean, I’m too damn shy to ask a girl out. What does that tell you?”

“Maybe she likes shy guys,” Kody argued.

“Orcs aren’t supposed to be shy,” I said with a scowl.

Kody sighed in frustration. “Why are you so obsessed with what orcs are ‘supposed’ to be like?”

“You don’t understand, Kody,” I said with a return sigh. “I grew up in a stronghold, a traditional one. The pressure they put upon us to be the best orc possible was suffocating. I wasn’t the only one who who had to deal with it, but I was the only one who couldn’t live up to the expectation, the only one who didn’t grow up into the orc I should have been, and that has severe repercussions in orc communities. I was my stronghold’s biggest shame. None of my family speaks to me. My clan won’t even acknowledge my existence anymore; I’ve literally been erased from the book of clan lineages.”

“Dude… I do get it,” Kody said. “When I told my family that I was non-binary, asexual, wasn’t planning on having kids, wasn’t a Christian, and had no intention of taking over their business, they fucking lost it. I was their only kid and they had placed all their expectations for the future on me without asking me how I felt about it. They kicked me out, cut off my tuition, wrote me out of their will, refused to see me or take my calls. I went from working on a degree in medicine to living on a park bench. You were the one who gave me a chance. You gave all of us a chance.” They came in and laid a hand on my shoulder. “I don’t really give a shit what other orcs think of you, and you shouldn’t either. You’re worth so much more than they’d want you to believe.”

“Thanks, Kody,” I said. “It’s hard to undo an entire lifetime of being told you’re not enough.”

“I know,” They replied. “But do you really think Briauna is the kind of person who would think that? And if you do, why would you want to be with someone who does?”

“I don’t think she’s like that,” I said. “That’s one of the reasons I like her.”

“Then ask her out.”

I sighed sharply and ducked my head. “What if she says no and things are awkward, and she decides it’s too weird to work here? I’d have to kick out all the new kids we just took in,” I shook my head, resolved “I can’t do that. The kids come first.”

Kody groaned and rolled their eyes. “God, you are insufferable!” They walked to the door and leaned out. “Would you please come in here and put him out of my misery?”

To my complete shock and horror, Briauna walked in with a sheepish smile on her face.

I stared at Kody in disbelief. “Wow… you are… just… so fired.”

“Please, you need me,” They said, backing out of the room. “I’m basically your conscience.”

“You are the exact opposite of that thing.”

They laughed as they made to exit the building. “You kids have fun.”

Briauna stood there with one of the stuffed animals in her hands. “So it was you, then?”

I stood up and raked my hands through my hair. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? It was sweet. A little creepy, but mostly sweet.”

I snorted. “I wasn’t trying to be creepy. I just wanted to get your attention.”

“Well, it worked.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a little stuffed bunny, something I hadn’t given her, and held it out to me. “Would this be enough to get your attention?”

I laughed and took it. “Yeah. And… maybe… dinner when you’re free?”

“I’m free now,” She said. “And there’s a curry place I’ve been dying to try since I moved here, but I’ve never had the chance to go.”

“That sounds perfect,” I said, grabbing my coat.

“Kody’s right, you know,” She said as I opened the door for her, stepping out into the chilly winter evening. “You shouldn’t care what people think about you. Well, except for me.”

“And what do you think about me?” I asked her.

She put her arm around my waist. “I think you’re really cute. I did the day we met. I was hoping the gift giver was you. And I think shy guys are adorable.” She lay her head on my chest. She was a short little thing. “I’m also hoping you won’t be too shy to kiss me goodnight.

I put my arm around her shoulder in return and lifted her face with my other hand. I kissed her softly and she pressed into it, parting her lips as if asking for more. My tongue reach out to toy with hers, and she moaned into my mouth. I pulled away, licking my lips.

“Dinner first,” I said, smiling.

She snorted. “You might regret that. It is curry.”

“I’ll take my chances,” I said, leading her down the street.

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silvered-tongues · 5 years ago

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Summary: Calum and reader hate each other... or do they? (loosely inspired by romeo and juliet) (~3000 words)

Rating: uh, mature. like def be over 18 but there’s nothing super hardcore

“You are not going to BELIEVE who just asked me out!,” I said, sitting down at a table across from my best friend, Ava. She looked up immediately from her textbook – a gossipy tone was her weakness.

“Who?”

“Calum freakin' Hood!,” I told her, rolling my eyes.

“Holy crap. That complete hottie you're obsessed with in bio?”

“I am not obsessed with him. Besides, even if he was hot, which I'm not saying he is, my parents would kill me if I even thought about going on a date with a Hood.”

“Please. Every time you come out of that class you're grumbling about him.”

“Yeah, grumbling!”

“You wouldn't be grumbling about half the things he did if you weren't watching him all the time.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Whatever. Point is, it doesn't matter, because my parents would disown me. Besides, I'm too busy with finals anyway.”

I changed the subject, pulling out my index cards to make flash cards, but my thoughts wandered. Sure, my family hated Calum's family. Ever since his great-great-great whatever had bought out my great-great-great whoever's farm or something. Neither of our families were even still in the same business but none of them can be in the same room with each other. Just my luck Calum happened to be in the same major program as me, and even worse, Ava was right. He was hot as hell.

Ava left soon, on the way to her next class. I was almost finished with my flash cards when my phone buzzed.

So, have you thought about my offer?

Hood, you know the answer. First of all, we barely know each other, and second of all, our parents would both kill us.

I know we barely know each other, that's why I want to take you out.

I sat for a moment, reading over his words, thinking about how tall and broad he was. How his dark eyes seem to read my thoughts when I looked into them. How his curls were perfect for tangling my fingers in. My phone buzzed again.

Besides, our families have to get over their beef at some point.

My table rattled as someone sat across from me. I looked up into Calum's face. My eyes widened, blushing at the thoughts that had been on my mind before he appeared. He grinned at my reddened cheeks.

“Just one date, and if you don't think it's the best one of your life, we'll pretend all this never happened.”

I looked at him for a long moment.

“Okay.”

Friday night rolled around and I stood in front of my mirror, straightening my jacket. What are you supposed to wear on a date with a person you've vowed to hate forever? Whatever, I said to myself. It's not like I cared what he thought anyway. I left my dorm room, locking my door behind me. Walking down to the main entrance, I saw that Calum was already waiting for me. He smiled when he saw me and reached for the passenger door, but pulled up short and turned back around to me.

“Damn. You clean up great.”

“Well, you don't look so bad yourself, I guess,” I said with an eye roll. “So where are we going?”

“It's a surprise. Just get in, I promise you'll enjoy this.”

I slid into the passenger seat and he jogged around to the driver's side. He started the car back up and hit play on his iphone. A sweet, old sounding song came from the speakers. I looked at him in surprise.

“Not what you expected?,” he asked with a smirk.

“No... what is this?”

“It's 'Angel' by Gavin Friday. What did you think I listened to?”

“I dunno, something garbage?”

He laughed, and I smiled at the sound. We drove for almost an hour, talking about music, school, teasing each other and laughing. By the time we pulled into a small parking lot surrounded by green woods, my cheeks were pink and sore from smiling. What was going on with me? I was supposed to hate this guy. He opened my door, holding out a hand to help me out of the car.

“Where are we?”

“I told you, it's a surprise. Don't worry, it's a short walk.”

Holding hands, we went down a small path through the woods. The air was cool underneath the shade of the trees. He led me out to a small clearing filled with wildflowers. Under a huge willow was a quilt and picnic basket. We walked over to it.

“Well, um, tah-dah!,” he said, clearing his throat and scratching the back of his head.

I looked at him sideways. Was he actually embarrassed?

“Wow, Hood. I gotta say, you were right. You know how to treat a girl.”

We sat across from each other on the blanket. He pulled out some fruit, sandwiches, chips and pretzels, something that looked like potato salad, a small cake and two bottles of wine.

“I wasn't sure what you liked so I brought a little of everything,” he told me, holding out the wines for me to choose.

“I'll have red.”

I grabbed some strawberries, hungry after the long drive and walk from the car.

“So why did you ask me out anyways? I was under the impression we hated each other.”

“Nah, I've never felt that way about you,” he smiled at me. “Oh, you've got something in your hair.”

I reached up, scraping my fingers through my hair.

“No, uh, other side – no, um, okay, let me get it.”

He reached out, brushing his fingers along the side of my cheek, pulling a leaf out of my hair and tossing it aside. I tucked my hair behind my ears, avoiding his gaze.

“Oh, um, thanks.”

My pulse was racing, and my skin felt hot where he had touched it. We spent hours hanging out together, talking about what seemed to be everything and nothing. I realized that we had way more in common than I'd thought. The sun set, and I started shivering, my light sweater not holding back the chill of the evening.

“Oh, man, I'm sorry! I hadn't realized how late it was. Let's get you home before it gets too cold.”

He stood, holding out a hand to help me up and then shrugging off his jacket and draping it around my shoulders. The sweet gesture took the words out of my mouth and I followed him back to the car in silence. He was right, this was the best date I'd ever been on, and it technically wasn't even over yet. The drive back to my dorm seemed to take ages; I couldn't seem to get my head on straight.

He dropped me off at the door, opening the door for me once again. I climbed out of the car, both my hands in his, and looked up into his face. My eyes widened at the expression I saw there. I froze when he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine, but in a second I was leaning into his chest. My hands reached up to his back to pull him closer. His hands held either side of my face as he kissed me softly before pulling back, leaving me out of breath and blushing. He dropped his hands and stepped back.

“Well, see you in class,” he said with a smirk, getting in his car and driving off. I stood there staring after him.

As soon as I got back up to my room, I stripped off my clothes and jumped into bed. It was hours earlier than I usually went to sleep, but I fell asleep right away, exhausted by the day.

My hands slid up Calum's chest until my fingers were tangled in his hair, my breath quickening . I pulled his face down to meet mine, and he wrapped his hands around my waist. I could feel his hard bulge pressing into me, making me wet for him. He lifted my legs around his waist, walking towards my bed before laying me down, his hand behind my head. I pressed my hips into his, pulling him closer to me with my legs. His lips kissed a pattern down my neck, nipping at the column of my throat as he began unhooking my bra. I leaned my head back, moaning at his touch.

I jerked awake, pulled out of my dream by a phone call. Without opening my eyes, I answered and held the phone to my ear.

“Hello?,” I groaned.

“Honey, did I wake you up?,” my mom's voice came through the line.

“Yeah, I went to sleep early today, but it's fine, what's up?”

“I just wanted to check on you, I haven't talked to you in a couple weeks.”

“I'm good, Mom. Just busy with finals.”

“Well you should make some time for something outside of school too.”

“I went on a date with Cal- uh, with someone today.”

Crap, I thought. She's gonna flip.

“I know you weren't about to say Calum Hood,” her voice hardened.

I sighed. “Yeah, Mom, it was Calum Hood. I know you don't like his family but I had a great time and I'm tired, so I really don't want to hear it. I'll talk to you later.”

I hung up, setting my phone back on my nightstand and slipping gratefully back into sleep.

I woke up the next day to messages from both my parents as well as my sister. I decided I'd deal with them later. I went downstairs to grab a cup of coffee before I went to meet Ava to study. As I stood in line, hands wrapped around my waist.

“Good morning, angel,” Calum whispered in my ear.

I stepped away from him.

“Stop it, Calum!,” I said, looking around frantically.

Sure, I'd let slip to my mom that we'd gone on a date, but if my family found out that this might turn into something, I'd never hear the end of it. He held his hands up and grinned, not the least bit ashamed of himself.

“You busy today?,” he asked.

“Yeah, I'm studying with Ava.”

“Alright, well I'll text you later, set up a second date?”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, Hood.”

This time, I left, leaving him to be the one staring after me.

I went up to Ava's room, setting my bag down on her bed and jumping up next to it. She wasn't there, she must have gone for coffee too. I started pulling out my books and supplies when my phone rang. I looked at the screen and saw it was my dad. I groaned to myself. Might as well get this over with.

“Hello?”

“Your mother told me you went on a date with that Hood boy.”

“Yes, Dad, I did.”

“I do not want you to see him. Our family does not associate with theirs.”

“Dad, what is this, the 18th century? I'll date whoever I want.”

“No, this isn't the 18th century, but his family has always treated ours like garbage. I don't want that boy treating you the same way,” he said.

“Dad...”

“No, let me finish. I know you're an adult but you are still my daughter and I am not going to allow you to get involved with a Hood. If you value this family you will break if off with him.”

He hung up, and my jaw dropped. My dad had never hung up on me, and he had never talked to me anywhere near that harshly. My eyes narrowed. He was right about one thing, I am an adult.

Ava finally came in and I filled her in on the date and the argument with my dad. She couldn't believe what he'd said to me.

“What are you gonna do?,” she asked, eyes wide.

“Well, honestly, I think I really like him. Our families' feud is stupid and they need to get over it. And anyways, I want to see where it can go with Calum.”

She squealed and wrapped her arms around me.

“Good! You guys are so cute together!”

We spent the day studying together, munching on Chinese food. After lunch I got a text from Calum.

Pick you up tonight?

I smiled and sent a quick response.

You bet.

After that, Calum and I spent almost every day together. He started eating lunch or grabbing coffee with me and Ava, and they became just like best friends. I saw almost none of my family, and I missed them, but I hoped that they would come around when they saw how happy Cal made me. My sister told me that our mom had started pestering our dad to call me to apologize and I started feeling hopeful. Maybe we would be able to patch things up, not only in my family, but with Calum's too. Cal and I went on more amazing dates. To the aquarium, roller skating, and even a weekend at the beach.

It was finally starting to feel like summer and we went on a short road trip to a small beach a few hours away. He'd booked us a little cabin for the weekend that was incredibly romantic. Walking in, I saw the bedroom littered with candles, the bed piled with soft blankets and fluffy pillows. I stuck the few clothes I'd brought into the dresser, feeling nervous. At this point I felt sure of my relationship with Cal but we had never spent the night together. He came in after me and sat his bag at the foot of the bed. We went to the beach, spending the afternoon in and out of the waves. After the sun went down, we made a little fire and roasted marshmallows.

Back at the cabin, I put on a tank and some shorts and tucked myself under the covers, warm and satisfied after the day with Calum. He crawled in next to me and I laid my head on his chest. He tilted my head up with his fingers under my chin and kissed me. There was something different about this kiss than all the ones we shared before. I threw my leg over his waist and sat up, straddling him. I traced my fingers over his bare chest, grazing the waistband of his boxers. He reached up and pulled my face down to his in another kiss. I could feel him getting hard underneath me. He flipped us over so I was on my back beneath him.

“Is this okay?,” he asked.

“Yes,” I breathed, and his lips were on mine again.

He pulled my shorts and underwear down my legs before stripping his own off. He hovered over me, teasing my entrance with his hard cock. He slipped into me and I moaned, wrapping my arms and legs around him as he moved in and out of me. It wasn't long before his pace quickened and I could feel my orgasm building.

“Don't stop,” I whispered in his ear.

His hands pinned my hips into the mattress and he leaned his face into my neck, biting and kissing the skin there. I cried out, the sensations building faster.

“Cum for me, angel. Cum on my cock.”

His words sent me over the edge and I clenched around him, my nails digging into his back. He screwed up his face and threw his head back, his orgasm following mine. He dropped onto the bed next to me, gripping my hand.

“Angel... you're something else.”

I finished my finals over the next couple of weeks and started thinking about what I was gonna do for the summer. I didn't know if my parents would be very happy about Calum Hood dropping by all the time. My sister might let me stay with her. I called her and invited her to lunch so I could ask her in person. She was free, so I threw on my jacket and went to meet her at our favorite restaurant.

I turned up the radio when my favorite song came on, singing along and dancing in my seat. I turned onto the road where the restaurant was and heard a car horn. I looked up in time to see a semi truck slam into the side of my car.

My eyes fluttered, and I groaned. How was it possible that every part of my body hurt?

“Angel? Angel, I thought I lost you!”

Calum's voice reached my ears and I finally forced my eyes open to see him standing over me. His face was filled with concern and he clutched the rails on my bed. My father stood from a chair near the side of the room and laid a hand on Cal's shoulder.

“Son, why don't you go tell her mom and her sister. Text her friend too, if you don't mind.”

“No problem, sir.”

He brushed his fingers over my hand and slipped out of the room. I looked at my dad.

“Son?,” I asked him, incredulous.

“I'm sorry for everything I said, honey. That boy loves you more than anyone I've ever seen. You've been out for over three days and he's been by your side the entire time. Talking and singing to you, letting your mom and sister go home and rest.”

I smiled, and at that moment Cal came back in the room with my mom and sister.

“Oh, honey! I'm so glad you're awake,” my mom, said pressing a kiss to my forehead.

My sister grabbed my hand. “Don't scare me like that again.” Her voice was angry, but the tears in her eyes gave away her fear and concern.

I leaned back against my pillows. I looked around at my family and Calum, and my heart felt full, even if my body felt like it had shattered.

After a few weeks, I finally left the hospital, and Cal picked me up to drive me to my parents' house to stay for the summer. He helped me carry my stuff inside and then we sat on the porch together. I leaned my head on his shoulder, happier than I'd ever been.

“I love you, angel,” Cal said.

“I love you too, Cal.”

Tell Me What You Think!

My AO3

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #calum imagine #fic #one shot #calum hood fic #5sos fic #5sos smut #calum hood smut #5 seconds of summer fic #romeo and juliet #romeo and juliet inspired #cal #its haleys writing!#mine

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