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awrldalone · 2 years ago

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16th January 2023, 6.40pm

＊about the days after Christmas and before the new year, as defined in the previous entry

31st December 2022 —

I ran to the train station to get to Padua. I forgot the times of home, how long busses take to go places, how far walking takes me, so I missed the tram and I put on my headphones and I walked for a while to get to the station, just in time to get a ticket at the machine and jump on the train with Ma.

She’s always late too, so in a way we were late together, which in turn made us a bit more on time because we were not alone in being late.

I was wearing a dark brown cardigan with a white t-shirt and black straight-legged jeans; my clothes for New Year’s were in my bag, next to two bottles of prosecco. I like the idea of being the one who brings some prosecco to parties, and I find it delicious when it’s actually good. A family friend, a friend of my mother’s, has a winery, and he makes a batch per year just to gift his friends and sell at farmer’s markets. It must not be too profitable, but the wine is sweet and fresh, light and bubbly.

When we arrived in Padua, we bought some ice. It’s unusual, but I had offered to bring some and apparently you can buy it in supermarkets. I got three bags. V. texted he got three too. And so we went at Cl.’s, where we would sleep, and I got changed into a lace shirt I bought second hand and some leather pants I stole from my mother’s closet - I did not like how they fit, but it was the best I could do; they are too big around the waste, and there’s too much excess fabric around the hips, which makes me look bigger than I want to appear. Regards of that, I still liked how I looked. I put on some silver eye shadow and some glitter. The idea was some kind of glam rock look. 90s does 70s.

The party was a few houses over, at G.’s place. My friends from Padova are all very well off, living in the center in big apartments. Hers was huge, it must have been two apartments connected. The living room’s ceiling was beautiful, decorated with a tasteful trim which must’ve been there for more than half a decade. The walls of the room where lined with bookshelves: a vast collection of colorful Adelphi, some hardback Einaudi, an encyclopedia.

During the night I had fun. I spent time between the living room, the terrace and the second living room. The first was where we put together a small bar, setting up the bottles and the ice and the glasses on a table, and where we turned off the chandelier lights in favor of some colorful ones to danced under. The terrace was for smoking, but smoking at parties is not only a vice, but also a way to socialize, so sometimes I stepped outside just to chat away from the dancefloor. In the last room, we ate food. Some people brought food, there was anything I could have thought of: some torte salate, charcuterie, vegetables and hummus dips, lenticchie, pizza, and other stuff I cannot remember. The lenticchie made me happy, because lentils are usually eaten at new year’s in sign of good luck, but that is not a tradition my family has. My family has no traditions, and participating in them with my friends makes me unbelievably happy.

I talked a lot with B. She’s studying in Paris. I talked a lot with Cl.M. too. She left her university and I did not know. She was studying in Ireland, but she said life abroad just was not for her, and so she decided to come back to Italy.

1st January 2023 —

At one point, a bit after midnight, I really felt happy. Simply happy. Maybe it was the gin or maybe the prosecco or maybe I was truly happy or maybe I was happy both because of everything around me and because of the drinks.

I even felt hopeful. Being there with all those people, feeling their warmth again, hearing that most of them are doing good and that those who aren’t probably soon will do well. I looked up while everyone was singing and dancing and laughing and I felt grateful. It happens once or twice a year.

I almost did not think of M. He’s usually a constant thought in my head. I thought that I did not think about him, that I was okay not being with him tonight, and then I realize that in thinking that I had thought of him.

We went home at something past three. V. and I stayed out a bit more to walk G. home. I ended up in some mattress on the floor, and I woke up again at nine.

My friends always make fun of the fact I wake up early after parties, clean up a bit and leave at six or seven. This time I decided to stay, because usually I just happen to be in a rush: usually I have to go somewhere else, and I want to pass home to wash up and get ready for the day.

I had nothing to do on the first of the year, besides going at my grandma’s or at my father’s, so I stayed there and we ate panettone for breakfast.

2nd January 2023 —

The day after I went to Padova again, after lunch, to meet Y.

We had not seen each other in months, because when I went back home to vote we did not manage to hang out.

3rd January 2023 —

And then I went to Florence, Firenze, with my father and sister. We woke up early and he came to pick us up with his car to go catch a train. I read A Room of One’s Own in silence for some hours, sitting alone.

I think my father needs to stop trying like this. We certainly did a lot, but he really does not understand how to act. He does not get that being nice, being a father, does not mean simply spending money, or passively spending time with us. He does not try hard enough and he tries too hard at the same time: he just doesn’t try to do what we need him to do and he does what he thinks should fix things. He thinks this is all a punishments for him. He thinks the way my sister reacts to him is a court sentence to be served, and he thinks this sentence should have been shorter than it is.

Florence is absolutely stunning. Ivory and dark green and tall. Piazza Duomo left me breathless, completely enamored with the architecture that filled up the view completely. I went up the Campanile di Giotto, a poor lady in front of me slowed everyone down because she was panting and sweating, but the view on top was incredible. All the brown roofs, all the monuments, all the churches were visible. I took off my jacket, it was not cold at all. My father took a picture of me that made me want to die. It happens sometimes: someone shoots me with a lens and I feel like I’ve been shot at the heart. I should not be this dramatic, but some pictures make me want to rip off my skin and teeth and hair.

Inside, the basilica is quite empty, but we visited the foundations and I was mesmerized by how many times the building had been rebuilt. There were some mosaics of North African craftsmanship. Some things were just stones, but the thought they held up a whole church once made them special.

Lunch was disastrous. After that we went to Piazza della Signoria, where there are a copy of the David and other beautiful statues. Some were Roman copies of Greek originals. Things that old being so intact make me feel so insignificant, but also so peaceful. The bronze Perseus holding Medusa’s head stood tall above me as I looked at it, but my favorite might have been that of the Lion, with the inscription “Opus Flaminii vaccæ Romani” between its legs.

We also visited a temporary exhibit by Gucci, on which I have mixed feelings on. I think clothing is art. Fashion, couture, dresses can be just as impactful as a painting or a fresco. But this was not a clothes exhibit, like a YSL one I visited in Paris. It was some sort of immersive art that felt like a huge ad. It was clear that the point of it all was creating a space where people could take pictures, to then post them on social media and give exposure to the brand and the place.

Before going home, we stopped at Paszkowski, a fancy bar where I got a deconstructed martini that tasted too much like gin.

5th January 2023 —

I went ice skating in Venice with Ma.F. and her friends. I knew none of them, but they were nice.

I did really miss M., though. We were seven, so I was left alone sometimes and I skated on the ice smoothly, dodging children and wishing I could hold his hand.

We had an aperitivo afterwards, but I had to leave earlier, because my father arranged for my sister and I to meet his girlfriend, or mistress, or whatever she is that is shorter than “the woman he cheated on my mother with”.

She’s short, a fake blonde with impeccable make up on and an accent from the country side she tries to mask. I ordered a moscow mule and she said she should have gotten one too. I tried being nice. She tried too, I think, but every time I looked at her and at my father I only saw the rot in them. Even when she faked being interested in my sister and me, what we were doing, what we liked, she stumbled on her niceness a few times, betraying some prejudice on gender norms and other bigotry. I ordered an americano, and she left, and I wanted to leave too because I wanted to go home and call M. to watch a movie. My father insisted I stayed. I ordered a third drink, a cosmopolitan, and I told myself I needed to stop.

Afterwards, my father basically kidnapped me. My sister managed to escape, he let her go home, but I had to go to his apartment with the excuse that I needed to fix his phone.

9th January 2023 —

Plane. Maastricht. I arrived at my apartment at 11pm.

-c.

#diary

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em0avacado · 4 years ago

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Only You

( Angel Reyes x Reader )

trigger warnings : none i think, guys being dudes, soft at the end. Language maybe.

word count : 2.1k ish

You were difficult to figure out, that was one thing you knew very well. You’d grown up around teenage boys all your life, being rough, chaotic and careless is all you knew. It’s who you were. Everyone knew that, but what no one knew? Was that you very, very capable of having a soft spot for someone. It was rare, when you were in highschool you swore to yourself there wouldn’t be another man you’d let close to your heart, and you were doing so well being, well, that bitch™, that when you met Angel Reyes, it threw you off, horribly so. You didn’t know how to handle it, you saw him, and you wanted to make sure he was taking care of himself, which, was likely that he wasn’t. It only got worse when you and him quickly became the best of friends. For some reason, when you started liking him a little more than the rest of your friends, you were lost, so unfamiliar with any emotions, having shut that out eons ago. Somehow, you’d worked it out in your head that you had to be more mean to him than the rest of them.

You had come home late from work one night, you were exhausted, and very much irritated when you heard rustling and noise behind your door. Nearly groaning, you shoved the key in your door and let yourself in, clearly, the boys had done the exact same who knows how long ago. You dropped your bag, and keys on the table before wandering into the very noisy living room where Angel, Ez, Coco, and Gilly were sat on your couch, feet up, beer in hands. Clearing your throat was what caught their attention, their cheers of excitement hurting your pounding head. They looked happy, and relaxed. You wouldn’t admit it but that was your favourite thing to see. Except, Angel. He didn’t look impressed.

“well look who decided to show up.” he said with an unimpressed tone, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Yeah, sorry I came home late to guests I didn’t invite over.” you muttered, pulling your coat off and setting it aside. “next time i’ll let the boss know I can’t take the last shift there might be a bunch of weird men in my home.”

“you sure it was just a late work shit? You not fucking your boss?” he asked with a hint of.. something? In his tone. Who the hell did this man think he was? Rolling your eyes once again, you didn’t have the patience to fight with Angel tonight, you’d said your boss was attractive once in response of him gushing over some girl at Vicky’s and he hasn’t let it go since.

“Why? You jealous?” you asked, and very quickly got a reaction, he got defensive.

“No.” he nearly spat “why would I be jealous of your boss?” his arms crossed over his chest. The rest of them watched with wide eyes. Except Coco, who was too invested in Tiger King.

“Because you want to fuck me.” you said blatantly, he, and Gilly, choked on their beers as Angel quickly tried to regain himself.

“I do not!” he protested, coughing and wiping at his face.

“mhm.” you hummed, pushing off your boots and heading off to the back, wanting to just have a shower before getting comfortable for the night, hoping to forget, even for just a moment, that there was a bunch of home invaders in your living room. Just as you were shutting your bedroom door, you heard mumbles and a then very clear conversation.

“You wanna fuck [Y/N]?” Gilly asked Angel, Ez could only laugh, he knew his brother, he knew he did.

“no.” grumbled Angel.

“Isn’t that kind of gay?” asked Coco. “I mean - she’s one of us, she’s literally beat you up, she’s a bro. That’d be like fucking me.” You snorted at that, of course he’d say that shit. Always. “Isn’t she.. a lesbian?”

Next you heard “Oh shit I thought she was too.” from Gilly.

“She’s not a lesbian! She thinks Bucky Barns is hot, she’s said she wants him to crush her head with that metal arm of his.” Said Ez, you heard Angel huff like a child.

Great, you thought to yourself, now you have a living room full of idiots trying to figure out your sexuality. You grabbed a towel, rolling your eyes at your friends, and went for your shower. Washing away the days stress, replacing the stench of oil and hard work with your signature cucumber, aloe vera scent. You settled on a thick sweater and plaid pj shorts before heading back into the living room where you expected to see the rest of your friends, now more ready to deal with them until you went to bed, but when you saw no one, you grabbed a water and headed to sleep.

The next few days were an endless series of hectic, and tiresome hours put into work, every day something went wrong. You hadn’t been so close to having a total breakdown in forever, but the weight on your shoulders felt so heavy. You couldn’t wait to go home, you had the next two days off and you couldn’t wait but dream of catching dreams and nothing but that. But when you got to your door, it was unlocked. Pulling the gun from your waist, you cocked it and raised it as you entered, only to find Angel at your table with his head in his hands. Setting down your things, you locked the door behind you and shed your work clothes.

This was a routine whenever either one of you had a particularly hard day, you turned to one another, despite the endless banter, you two easily fell into being each other’s safe haven. You deemed it to be because you understood each other, like best friends did, it worked. At some point, though, you’d began to fall for Angel and you had no idea how to deal with it.

“am I okay to shower?” you asked softly, crouching down beside where he sat, running a gentle hand over his head. He aches for your affections, even the slightest of your touches calmed the man, but he knew that you had to be the one to instigate it. You hated physical contact, it was rare you trusted, let alone liked someone enough to let them touch you. You were picky with it. Angel respected that, though he did sometimes want to just pull you into a hug when his world was spinning, yet he didn’t. You saw it in the way that he involuntarily followed your hand that it was a hard day for him, when he nodded, you gently squeezed his shoulder. “okay, take off your kutte and boots and go lay in bed, i’ll be there after, okay?” when he nodded again and began to move, you headed off to the bathroom quickly to rinse off.

Not all that long after, you’d met him in your room, like you promised. You wore pj shorts, and a tank, he was in his wife beater and boxers. You climbed in, and lifted the comforter wordlessly, inviting him in. He quickly settled against you, his face laid against your chest. You trailed your fingers over his back, drawing soft shapes on his skin a mark that didn’t stain much more than his mind. You both laid in a comfortable silence, his hands were secured at his sides, eventually yours sat in his hair, playing with the short strands as he listened to your heart beat. He never thought he’d be more thankful for someone else’s beating heart.

“Do you like Bucky Barnes more than you like me?” he asked, breaking the silence after a while. You furrowed your brows slightly and looked at him. You saw his glassy brown eyes staring right back at you. Your heart melting at the sight.

“Angel, Bucky is a fictional character.” you answered simply.

“So you do.” he said in disappointment, sighing. Jealousy hung heavy over his head, perhaps it wasn’t just that, perhaps he had an exceedingly difficult day. When he started pulling away from you, you wrapped your arms around his head and pulled him in, the gesture was.. sweeter and much more gentle in your head, but everyone knew you weren’t the most graceful, so you accidentally jabbed him not only in the eye, but also picked his nose for him. Dismissing the fact that you did that, you took his face in your hands and had him look to you.

“Bucky Barnes has nothing on you.” you said, doing your best to sound reassuring.

“What about his arm?” he asked, puppy eyes on full display. This man will be the end of you.

“I’d let you run over my head with your bike.” you told him, trialing your thumbs over his cheeks. Something inside you told you that there was a fine line between platonic and romantic, and that you’ve both bolted passed that line ages ago, in private, at least.

“you really mean that?” he asked yet another question, you knew you were playing into his ego but you could only give in to him.

“i do.” you said, yawning. He wrapped his arms around you again, and settled back down. Shutting his eyes. You had a few minutes at best before you were out, and Angel knew that once you started yawning, it only took a little while till you were out.

But the next morning, when you slowly started to come back to the world of the living, you heard Angel mumbled something into the phone. Being the nosy son of a bitch you were, you listened in. “I don’t know, man. All I know is that if I don’t leave now, I don’t think I ever will. She doesn’t see me the way I see her, I can’t force this on her, I’ll lose her for good and I’d rather have her as a friend, but I can’t lose her. On god little brother I can’t.” he mumbled, and you felt your chest heat up. He was talking about you. To Ez. Shutting your eyes again for a moment, you took a deep breath and climbed out as you heard him rustling around. You grabbed one of the blankets, surrounding yourself with it to try to warm back up after your toes were kissed by the cold. You headed out of the room, your toes padding against the hard wood floor. You’d caught him in the middle of opening the door, and talking to Ez still.

“Please don’t leave.” You said, your voice soft, almost timid. Angel turned around, looking at you all wide eyed.

“Wh - huh?” he looked at you dumbfounded.

“Come back to bed, I’m cold.” you said, clutching the blanket tighter.

“[Y/N], I - I have to go.” he responded, fumbling with the phone in his hand as Ezekiel yelled at him to get his head out of his ass on the line.

“You’re an idiot.” You quickly shuffled closer to him, letting go of your grasp on the blanket, you reached up, cupping his face in your hands and you lead him closer to you. Looking into his eyes, you felt his hot breath brush against your face, taking a second to really look at him before connecting your lips to his in a soft kiss. This was definitely crossing the friendship line, but he was intoxicating. “Don’t leave now. Don’t leave ever.” you said when your lips parted for air. Your eyes on him, all you heard was his heavy breathing, and the cheering on the other end of the phone.

The sight of you right then and there let Angels heart melt into puddle, he hadn’t seen it before but you looked at him like he was the world, and he was, he was your world, even though you’ve quite literally sucker punched him in the stomach for taking your last cheese bun.

“So she’s not a lesbian right?” you heard Coco ask everyone.

“Coco I’m gonna beat your fucking ass.” you said, grabbing the phone before hanging up. “but first imma eat yours.” you tried to say in a serious voice, but the moment Angels face twisted in disgust, you lost it.

“Way to ruin the moment.” he groaned.

“You want me to bring the moment back?” you asked, raising a brow at him when he nodded. You reached up, brushing back his hair, taming the bed head ever so slightly, you brought your hands down to his beard, scraping your nails gently against it as you brought your lips back to his. “give me another kiss then, baby.” your voice drawled out softly, meeting his lips in a soft, yet passionate kiss.

Taking his hand after a few moments, you pulled him back to the bedroom, he was completely caught in a trance. So, as you walked, you set his phone aside, you pushed off his kutte and tossed it on the couch, you unbuttoned his flannel and tossed it on a close by chair. “Are you trying to fuck me?” he asked, bewildered.

“No, not right now.” you chuckled softly. “I want to lay with you, I want your warmth, and your smiles, and your laughter when I tell you some stupid joke, I want your arms around me. I want to hold you. Only you. Let me feel safe in your arms because I don’t anywhere else.” you admitted, pulling him into you. He looked like a lost puppy as you spoke, but then he fully dove into you, not wanting to look back.

“and after our nap? I’m making waffles.” you said in your donkey impression, making Angel roll his eyes. “Angel baby.. When we fuck I’m gonna moan like I think Donkey does when he and that dragon fuck, okay?” you ask, entirely serious.

“oh god please no.” he laughs, hiding his face in your chest.

Tag List :

@mayans-sauce

@queenbeered

@lilacyennefer

#mayans fanfic #mayans mc #fanfic #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x oc #angel reyes fanfiction #clayton cardenas

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moondustaeil · 3 years ago

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𝐫𝐞:𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞.

↳ Ambrosia's not-so-happy life update.

trigger warning, this post includes: weight loss, food, calorie counting, disordered eating habits, suicide, insecurities, fears.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭, 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭?

As I contemplate whether I should make an earnest post look as aesthetic as possible, my eyes are tearing up to Lee Chansub's "Gone". Therefore, this chapter gets named after his lyrics.

Since when was it? It's a question that crosses my mind after deciding on the chapter name, even though I'm well aware of the number of days that have passed. Each day I write that significant number in my journal, but there must be more than the pen can write. Beyond my awareness: there must have been a certain amount of time spent on a prologue to pen down the event that ultimately led to this chapter.

Since where was it? There could be multiple meanings behind the question, but I can only formulate a limited answer despite the openness. As far as I'm in charge of this story, there is no why or where. Yes, I quite literally woke up one day and decided to go on a diet, simple as that. Before that day, dieting never crossed my mind: I never saw my body as too much or myself as too little compared to others. Can you understand now why I think a prologue was written for me and not by me?

Anyhow, let's have a look at how I think I experienced my life before the diet. Sometimes I think I don't even remember how I experienced the last moments of it, but that doesn't mean I don't know how it went. My life before the diet was pretty plain: I didn't engage in any social or physical activities and spent most of my time behind my laptop to write or lurk around on YouTube. Eating-habit-wise, I never ate much: three meals a day with occasional snacks, those snacks probably covering more calories than my meals did. Despite eating calorie-covering snacks, I would have given my all for fruit and vegetables, especially frozen fruit. Back then, I already had significant eating habits: I'd eat nuts when I was stressed, drink smoothies while studying for exams, eat sour sweets when I was bored. My body before the diet wasn't that noteworthy: I maintained the same weight for around three years and only ditched my tight jeans because covid had me feeling too lazy to wear them. A youth like this might sound boring to you, but I gladly lived my life like this and, I don't regret the way I spent it.

I can still recall up to two days before it began: I can tell the contents of those days like I was the supporting cast instead of the main character, simply because I can't remember the emotions. The two last days were spent behind my laptop, waiting for the exam results while eating spicy nuts (to keep the stress level low). When the exam results came, and I realised I passed them all, I must have felt relieved. But in my memory, I didn't and don't feel anything at all concerning my exams. And that's where it stops. I don't even know where it starts again.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲

It quite literally feels like I woke up with no memories of the first days of the diet: I can recall what I ate, but not what I did or felt.

On the first day, I drank a strawberry oat smoothie for breakfast. It was my first self-made smoothie which was convincingly delicious compared to the bought smoothies I used to have. That same day, I stopped eating snacks: unknowingly, I restricted them and wouldn't allow them for the months after.

That paragraph is all I remember from the first day, and if I were to write one about every day of that week, it would be less each day. Maybe those days just weren't memory-worthy enough as I don't want to search for a reason behind every single thing.

For approximately twenty-eight days after the first one, I have no recollections. The only way I can reflect on those days is by checking my calorie intake and physical activity. Though, it doesn't feel like I was the one who tracked it.

The first proper recollection I have is of a day I ate 180 calories for the first time: a number I can only wonder about now. Though it was my first time having such a low intake, it wasn't the last or lowest. The number 180 seemed to attract me as in the days that followed, 180 would be the maximum amount of calories I'd consume. Back then, I had no idea what TDEE or BMR (of any of the other terms) were, so I can't tell you what my deficit was. But I would burn around 1200 calories a day by exercising, and that should be enough to raise red flags.

From that point on, even though I was probably slowly killing myself, I felt alive. A growing obsession with food, weight loss and exercise was fueling my mind. While my body was left behind, trying to catch up with the pace. If I didn't lose more than 1 gram overnight, I'd starve myself the next day. If I felt too lazy to exercise, I'd punish myself for being lazy by doing more. My weight dropped a lot, up to the point where the scale sometimes seemed to skip numbers.

Then a parent swap came: I would be staying with my dad for two weeks. In advance, I had already figured out everything I thought I needed to know: how I would skip meals without him finding out, at what times I could exercise without him knowing, where I could throw away the food he thought I would eat. The day I packed my bag and left for his house, my plans turned into action.

The two weeks there went as smooth as I planned them to go. Even with bonuses: he worked up to three days a week and did not question it when I didn't eat. In those two weeks, I would replace kpop videos with programs I used to despise: supersize versus superskinny and mukbangs. The videos would satisfy my hunger in some way, even though they caused me to start nailbiting. I wouldn't eat: I would only watch as others fed themselves.

Since I lost the initial subject I wanted to discuss in this chapter (I'm so sorry), I shall be moving on to the next chapter.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨? 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐚𝐭?

It was at this point that people were starting to notice things that I hadn't. Sometimes those things were appearance-related and, other times it was personality-related or even habit-related.

It started with a compliment from my aunt, and I felt like I was glowing when she mentioned my visible jawline and thin face. Maybe I was slightly disappointed that she noticed the facial changes before my body but, at the same time, she noticed a difference!

After her, people started commenting on my body, and I worked more to achieve those comments. I saw them as comments rather than compliments: I didn't tire myself out starting from 5:20 am every day just to receive a meaningless compliment. I wanted people to take notice.

And, they did. People that directly surrounded me were starting to notice things that I failed to see. Mostly stuff that changed about my personality while my body was changing. My mother told me that I became the opposite of easy-going and friendly when others were around. My sister told me that my facial expressions had gone even further than my usual resting bitch face. My nephew said that all I would do was try to end up in arguments with others and that he didn't like being around me anymore. It hurt to have all of those things said, but at the same time, I was too in denial to care. The only thing I cared about was food, exercise and losing weight.

On rare occasions, I became aware of the person I became. Mostly when others would try to reach me by calling or coming over but I was too busy to talk to them, and if I did, I would talk about food-related things only. So, I shut everyone out.

I no longer talked to my friends daily, wouldn't reply to my parents sending me messages, didn't go on social media unless it was to look at food or triggering images.

The world consisted of me and was ruled by my obsession.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒: 𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞

There is an unknown amount of time that settles itself between the previous chapter and this chapter. During this time, I once again feel like I'm just a supporting character: my habits develop and my obsession rules over everything I do.

Many of the things I did (which already wasn't a lot, to begin with), were based on stuff I said already. Though even more refined and obsessive.

When I closed my eyes, sleep would take me to dreams about food and weight loss. Approximately three times a night, I would open my eyes, assume it was morning and get ready for another day of exhaustion and starvation. Those nightly hours are still engraved in my mind and current habits: 12:00 am, 3:20 am, 5:28 am.

It is in this chapter that a slow awareness creeps up on me. The side effects are what wakens me when everything else consumes me: constant thoughts about food, the inability to sleep, not being able to think or focus, drifting from reality, always feeling cold, tingling headaches, not leaving the house for days unless it's for shopping (because I would look at food I couldn't eat).

"I need to stop," I told myself while I wrote in my journal how much better I would be if I lost some more weight because the scale is tempting me.

I didn't want to stop. I just wanted it to stop.

Though in reality, I had no control to stop myself or it. I had lost control long ago, and to this day, I still have no idea at which chapter I left it behind. Some days I thought of how to stop, but the exit sign was more like a full-stop as it led me to think of killing myself: it would make my family stop commenting on my condition and could give me a sense of freedom even though I would be dead.

It surely wasn't the first time I passed that exit sign in life, but it was the first time I felt determined to pass it by. All I wanted was to be able to sleep peacefully without thinking of food. *Snort*, such high standards.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓: 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

Unexpectedly, a good dream did cloud over my bedroom. Even though it was simple, it's one of the dreams that I hope to keep in my memory forever. And for laughs, I'll share it.

TO1-member Donggeon was standing near my garage but, my mother's car wasn't in the driveway because she wasn't home. I was standing outside with him while he talked with Wei's Donghan (who was invisible to me). They were having a casual conversation in Korean. Then, he wanted to lean against the car that wasn't in the driveway, causing him to fall on all fours. He laughed at his stupidity and, at the same time, his ears were getting red from embarrassment.

That pretty much sums up the first not-food-related dream I had during my entire journey. And I still remember waking up at 3:20 am, laughing: it was stupid and silly but left such a big impression on me. And that's when I told myself: "I need to recover".

It sounds silly but I still, to this day, think that this dream set me off into recovery mode. Even though I felt like I had no control, I tried to take control: calculated a number of calories that I surely had to eat each day, planned Thursday to be my active rest-day, found less intense workouts to do in the morning, tried to replace the mukbangs in my watch later list by relaxing videos or recovery videos, scheduled to journal every day. Though I told myself I would do those things, it wasn't easy to put my words into action.

Yet, I fucking did it.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔: 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲��𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧

Not going to lie: I spent all night wondering how I was going to write this and all morning putting it into proper words. Hence, the reason why I'm feeling exhausted: too exhausted to continue writing it even though the blooming period is so close. So instead of giving a lecture on recovery: I will try to give my opinion on recovering and how I'm doing these days.

Each day, I still question whether I'm truly in a recovery of something. I never went to see a professional or verbally admitted to my problems, so I never learned whether I'm recovering from something or just making progress after a downfall. I might be familiar with the use of DSM-4 and DSM-5 but, that doesn't mean I'm qualified to judge on whether I had/have a disorder or not. Yet, I opt to use the terms disordered eating and recovery until I'm sure of what it was that I went through.

Some days it feels like I was faking all of it, but then I realise, how was I faking it while I was going through it and experiencing it? Perhaps some of you reading even think I am faking all of the above, but that's your opinion. I don't need to defend myself for feeling things.

Now, I'll update you on where I'm standing today because I guess I wrote six chapters in order to get to this point. We all know I like to write more than necessary.

⋅ My disordered eating habits and calorie intake: I have made quite some progress (even if I say so myself). Each week, I challenge myself to increase my calorie intake by 100 until I reach my maintenance calories. It isn't as easy as it sounds because by the time I actually dared to increase by ten calories, the week is over, and I have to adjust my goal because I wasn't even able to reach close to where I planned to be. This week my goal is to eat 800 calories a day: a number that unexpectedly is paired with a lot of guilt and fear, so I haven't been able to eat that amount yet. The maximum I've eaten is 641 calories a day. Together with that, I also promised myself to eat one fear food or not-eaten food a week: that way, I hope to stop restricting myself and learn to enjoy them again. Some lasting habits I developed: I fear eating too early and will try to push back eating as late as I can because it gives me the feeling that I can enjoy it for longer but I do have strict hours, I cut everything into mini pieces because it gives me the feeling that I have more to nibble on and more to enjoy, I read every single nutrition label multiple times (in the store and at home) because I fear that it might include too many calories or fat, I don't eat anything that I didn't plan and nothing that I can't track calorie-wise, I eat the same thing for breakfast every day because I feel like it's the only food I can trust. The urge to skip meals or lie about them is getting smaller, but the thought always remains in the back of my mind.

⋅ My weight: I'm at a weight that is still considered healthy according to whoever feels qualified to judge. However, I fear gaining weight every single day, which stops me from eating my weekly allowance. Despite eating more than at the start of this: I still lose weight. The weight loss fuels the bad habits once more, but I try to tell myself that my weight is only to indicate whether I'm close to my maintenance calories or not.

⋅ My body: my body kept most of its side effects inside until I started to recover aside from the ones that I've stated before. Yesterday was the first day that I didn't feel cold despite wearing a shirt only, so that was a win for my body. However, I do have constant headaches, get blackouts often and, I easily feel my energy draining whenever I do a little bit too much (which I didn't always feel when I was actively doing it). That being said, my abilities have definitely decreased: you can read what kind of exercise I do in the next paragraph, but it has decreased a lot because I will feel weak sooner than before.

⋅ Exercise: I am between struggling and not struggling with it. The reason why I started to exercise was to burn more calories than I ate. But back then, I had no knowledge of BMR and whatnot. These days I do a lot less impactful exercise than I did before, but I still exercise each day: I do 96 minutes of stationary cycling a day, go on daily walks and have the obsession to take steps whenever I'm standing still. As you might be able to tell, I feel like I'm on the line of having control here.

⋅ My personality/social life/hobbies: even though I was in denial about my changing personality for a long while, I eventually realised that people were right when they said I changed. The realisation came during recovery, mostly because I noticed how I was in a better mood than when I was at my lowest point. My social life is building up slowly and doesn't always include me having to talk about my weight loss or food, though people always mention it so, I do always end up having to talk about it without wanting to. As for hobbies, I found my interest in kpop and writing again but, it's still at a somewhat moderate level. I still find myself lurking at food-related posts or triggering things, but I can control myself better and watch some positive videos instead. Aside from that, I journal every day: I write down what I ate, my physical activity, what I saw as memorable in my day, and more.

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞

That's pretty much all for the life update. I still left out a lot that I failed to remember while writing or felt too tired to write about, and I bet not a lot of you are interested in any of this anyway. I just felt like I owed everyone an explanation of where I've been and why I haven't been reblogging much or writing.

As I've stated a few times before, I don't know yet when I will get back into writing or posting content. And the past months made me realise that it might be good for myself if I take some time away from Tumblr: I won't be able to look for triggering content, won't be able to trigger anyone else on accident and can focus on working towards my goals.

I hate the word hiatus but I think this means that I will be going on semi-hiatus. On good days, I might still come here to talk to my mutuals or reblog some kpop content that I enjoy. But other times, I probably won't respond or interact much as I'm logged out.

For now, my semi-hiatus will continue until mid to end September. This might be shortened or extended depending on my progress and my personal needs.

Have a lovely day, moonflowers! 💌

#ambrosia's life #was this the tag i used to use for stuff like this?

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nemesisadraste · 4 years ago

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Movie night (a Code Lyoko fan-fin by NemesisAdraste for @that-g3-obsessive in the @codesecretsanta gift exchange.)

This story happens somewhere during season 2. Don't mind the year of the story and the movies please. I know they don't all fit, but let just say that in the CL-verse they do.

It was a normal autumn night for all the parisian inhabitants.

All of them?... No!

In the streets of la ville lumière there was a group of young teens with bags on their back that, if you'd ask any grumpy neighbors, were definitely up to something. This group made of 3 boys and a pink haired girl, all about the same age, were heading to a specific house that wasn't theirs and no one could have guessed what they were ganging up for…

Ulrich : Oh my god would you cut it Odd?! We're just going to have a movie night at Yumi's house and her parents and Hiroki will be there so stop the drama!

Odd : What? Can't I have a little fun?!

Aelita : Yeah Ulrich, don't be a party pooper, that was funny.

Ulrich : Maybe but he does this all the time and I'm getting sick of it.

Odd : Come on buddy, a little laugh never killed nobody.

Ulrich : No, but people had died for being too annoying.

Jérémie : Ok kids stop it we arrived.

They had indeed arrived and Aelita knocked on the door. Yumi answered, already in pyjamas (a comfy Tortoro one) for the night and with a big smile.

Yumi : Hi! Come in!

The warriors entered the house and Hiroki immediately welcomed Ulrich and showed him his room before letting him change into his pyjamas. The other warriors did the same after greeting Yumi's family. Once they were all set, the Geisha's parents prepared some popcorn while the kids were discussing which movie to watch.

Odd : What about "Singularity"? It is about a self-aware AI that we programmed to find the world's biggest problem and to solve it, but once we connected it to the internet, it didn't take a second for it to find out it was humanity the problem. I saw it and it is really good!

Aelita : Yeah I'll pass.

Jérémie : Me too.

Odd : Ok… oh what about "I robot"?! You can't go wrong with Will Smith!

Yumi : I love Will Smith too, but "I robot" really?

Odd : what's the problem?

Yumi : This is a fun movie night Odd. It is meant to get us out of our daily trouble so I think it is better to choose a movie that is NOT about an evil AI.

Odd : I see… but I still want an action movie…

Hiroki comes in the room in this very moment

Hiroki : I want an action movie too!

Yumi : I'm fine with an action movie, just not an AI movie ok.

Hiroki : Yeah she never liked those, it gave her nightmares. It's weird because she watches horror movies sometimes that are way worse and she is just fine!

Yumi : Enough Hiroki or you won't watch the movie with us!

Hiroki : Well mom and dad said I can so…

Yumi : Hiroki!

Hiroki : Ok fine I'll stop. So what do we watch?

Odd : What about "Pacific Rim" No AI, just big human controlled robots fighting aliens coming from the center of the earth.

Yumi's mom coming from the kitchen with the popcorn : Isn't it a bit too violent for Hiroki?

Hiroki : Mom I'm not a baby I can take it!

Yumi's mom : Ok then. It is a special night after all. But don't come into our bed if you have nightmares tonight! Have fun!

Odd : Ok let's do this! You'll see this is a great movie you're gonna love it! Especially you Ulrich and Yumi!

Ulrich : How so?

Odd : You'll see! 😜

And so they started the movie and watched it. Just like Odd has predicted they all loved it and Ulrich and Yumi knew why Odd had said it was especially for them when they came to the "four hits" stick fight game scene. It was awesome and they promised to try it someday. Aelita was amazed by the special effects and was especially receptive to the traumas scenes. Jérémie took mental notes about all the scientific stuff surrounding the Jaegers and its neural interface. Hiroki just had a blast watching the fight scenes and Odd was equally impressed by the work in front and behind the camera like everytime he sees it.

Odd : See I told you it was great! Say Einstein, do you think you can program some Jaegers on Lyoko?

Hiroki : Lyoko? What is that?

Jérémie : Nothing… just a video game I program for fun in my free times.

Hiroki : Cool! Can I see it?!

Jérémie : Not until it is finished. But when I do you'll be the first to know promise.

Hiroko : COOL! Thanks! What is the game about?

Yumi : Hiroki, it's way past your bedtime now.

Hiroki : You're not fun

Yumi : Hiroki!

Hiroki : Ok I'll go to my room… leave you alone with your boyfriend.

Yumi : For the 1000000 times Ulrich is not my boyfriend!

Hiroki : Yeah sure. (He goes up to his room.)

Jérémie : Way to go Odd now I have a video game to eventually present to Hiroki.

Odd : Hey you came up with this cover story! Besides, he will probably forget it by next week.

Jérémie : Hope you're right.

Odd : You didn't answer my question though, could you program Jaegers on Lyoko?

Jérémie : No.

Odd : Why?

Jérémie : First of all, I have enough with the anti-virus as it is to start thinking about programming new stuff, second of all, didn't you see in the movie all the side-effects it had? It's too much an unnecessary risk to add. Beside all monsters are relatively small so how would a giant robot be of any use?

Odd : The monsters we know are tiny, but what if X.A.N.A. make a new real big one?! Bigger than the schyphozoa I mean! Bigger than the towers even!

Ulrich : Stop it Odd. Since we found the 5th sector I'm sure we have encountered all the monsters in X.A.N.A army.

Odd : Ok, Ok no Jaegers. But don't complain to me when we'll be in front of this future colossal monster and we will be the tiny one.

Yumi : I promise we won't. Ok, now I can't sleep on big action scenes because they are way too exciting, so how about a light comedie before we go to bed?

Aelita : Yeah I'd love too! How about an Astérix? I heard good stuff about those animated movies and how they are a classic here.

Ulrich : Yeah they are fun even if they are for kids.

Odd : Don't listen to him princess, cartoons are for everyone and the Astérixs are the best! My fave is "Les 12 travaux d'Astérix." Let's see this one. They even introduce all the characters at the beginning so it's a good one to start with.

Yumi : Ok let's watch this!

And they watched and enjoyed it all together, and then went to sleep. Those moments were rare and precious so when they arrived, they didn't let a second of it split. They all continued this wonderful night in their dreams hoping that someday this will be their routine instead of fighting.

THE END.

I hope you enjoyed it 😅

Happy holidays to you and all your loved one! Please give me your appreciation in the comments!

P.s. in case you wondered , this is the famous Pacific Rim stick fight scene!

#code lyoko #fanfiction #codesecretsanta2020 #odd della robbia #yumi ishiyama #Ulrich Stern #aelita stones #Jérémie Belpois

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etn-story-archive · 4 years ago

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Enter the Nomicon - Chapter 3: Awkward is the Word of the Day

“H-hey Howard. Our friend Nomi came by and we wanted you to come over and, uh, try out that new online version of Grave Puncher! You said the graphics were the cheese, so Nomi wants to play with us!" In a quick and desperate attempt for Howard not to raise any questions, Randy looped an arm around Nomi's neck and pulled him closer with a large nervous grin.

Of course, Nomi had to bite back the instinct to pull away, twist his arm behind his back and pin him to the ground like he had been taught to. He felt that they looked extremely stupid like this.

Fortunately, Howard had gotten the hint.

"Oh—yeah! I completely forgot! Heidi, I'm gonna go. Have fun cleaning the house while I bounce!"

Without waiting for her response, the three dashed out of the house in a blur while Heidi threw a tantrum.

...

"Alright Cunningham, who is this guy?"

The three slowed to a walk. Randy panted, trying to catch his breath as he replied in between inhales and exhales.

"It's...a really long...story...wait...my...room."

As they quietly walked to Randy's house, Howard stole glances at the red haired teen. He had to admit, the guy was pretty damn handsome.

Well, maybe not like Cunningham—

There he was again, thinking those strange, forbidden thoughts. He couldn't help it though. Love was a strange, morbid thing that blinded those with its sweet alluring song. And this was certainly no exception, as Howard found himself slowing just enough so he could stare at his friend's butt. When he looked up he realized he had been caught by their apparent new friend. His cheeks heated up, but the male simply looked away as if in deep thought.

There has never been a time where Randy was ever quiet. He was always chatting with Howard. He felt awkward, standing between the other boys, for some unknown reason, and it bugged Randy, so he decided to break the ice.

"So, Nomi, do you play any instruments? I m-mean, besides the flute?"

Howard turned to the other male who gave him a dark look, which unsettled him.

"Yes. My father taught us that music was as important as education. I learned on my own how to play most of the common instruments like the piano, violin, guitar, clarinet, and even the drums. I know a few pieces of certain songs, but the instrument I play most commonly, as you would have guessed, is the flute."

With that, the male pulled out the flute from his pocket and began to play the sweet, familiar melody. It created a calm, almost lazy atmosphere.

Howard felt an oddly natural sense of comfort.

Suddenly, Nomi stopped.

"Sorry. Got a little carried away." He muttered, but Randy stopped him.

"Nah dude, that was totally Bruce!!"

Howard simply nodded, still unsure of the stranger that walked with them. The redhead smiled before continuing to play the rest of the way to Randy's house.

...

As soon as Randy shut and locked the door to his room, he was almost literally mauled by Howard's questions.

"Okay Cunningham, who is this guy?!" The short chubby teen pointed at Nomi, who didn’t seem to care about what was going on.

"Howard, this is the Nomicon."

There was a moment of silence, before,

“WHAT?!”

"Yeah, it’s a long story. But apparently the Sorcerer is going to escape, which is why Nomi revealed his human persona to me and you. I guess it’s because he's going to fight the Sorcerer, while I take on Mcfist!" Randy had repeated the whole conversation between him and the human Nomicon in a single breath and was breathing heavily under his friend's stern look.

"Wow, you really are in deep now."

Randy groaned, flopping exhaustedly onto his bed and burying his face in his pillow. He screamed into it.

"Well, now that we're done with introducing each other, I'm going to meditate." With that, Nomi began to disappear into a smoky red mist before a book appeared where he had once been standing.

"Whoa-ho ho! That is the cheese!"

...

Time flew by and before the boys even realized it, the sun had gone down.

"Crud. Heidi is going to tell Mom that I’ve been out too late and get me grounded."

Randy barely heard his friend as he concentrated hard on the game in front of him. "Uh-huh. Have fun."

Howard grinned. "So, do you like ketchup and peanut butter sandwiches?"

"Duh."

"Are you in a porno?"

"I made it."

"Are you gay?"

"WHAT THE JUICE!?"

Howard nearly fell backwards as Randy stood up still, staring at the computer screen. "That’s not fair! I punched that grave to bits!" Randy turned to see his friend staring at him. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Okay then...oh, hey dude, it's almost nine. You better go or Heidi is going to get you grounded again."

Howard face palmed.

...

As Randy came back upstairs after walking Howard to the front door, he found the Nomicon was back to his human form. He was meditating in the middle of his room.

"Hey Nomi, my mom's gonna be here any minute, so you better hide again."

The redhead opened one eye lazily. "Okay. I guess I've done enough for today." He stood and stretched, but was cut off by the sound of Randy's stomach rumbling. He raised a brow.

"You haven't eaten?"

"Nope. I usually just eat an apple or something. Maybe chips I guess. My mom doesn't have time to cook. And I don’t know how to cook." Randy simply shrugged.

"Well then, I guess I can make you something really quick."

...

Randy watched in awe as Nomi sliced and diced a few vegetables in less than ten seconds, cook rice in record time, and slice a small salmon fillets into perfect slices.

Randy realized he was preparing him a small dish of sushi.

Suddenly, a small plate was pushed to him. On top was six salmon rolls sprinkled with sesame seeds. Nomi leaned casually against the opposite side of the kitchen counter from Randy. He watched him expectantly, almost eager to see what Randy thought of his cooking.

Realizing this, he picked up a roll and popped it into his mouth.

It tasted...amazing! Delicious! Flavorful! There was an endless amount of words that Randy could use to describe the little salmon rolls, but didn't care to say them aloud as he happily stuffed them into his mouth, barely remembering to swallow and thank the redhead.

"Wow! Thanks dude! It's really good!"

Nomi gave him a small smile. He was internally jumping up and down with pride. He smirked.

"Your first lesson is to close your mouth when eating." He gestured to his open mouth. The purple haired teen rolled his eyes before doing as his teacher had said.

Suddenly the sound of the doorknob jiggling caught both of their attentions. Nomi was just about to turn back into his book form when the front door slammed open to reveal an exhausted looking Ms. Cunningham.

"Oh! I had no idea you were spending the night, er—Nomi!"

Instantly he relaxed and gave a respectful bow. "Y-yes, I am, if that isn't too much trouble."

"Oh none at all! Hey, how come Howard isn't here, Randy?"

"Uh, he had to go home. Heidi busted him." It wasn't a complete lie at the very least.

"Hm. That's too bad." Just then, her green eyes landed on the single roll that sat innocently on the plate in front of Randy. Without question, she picked it up and put it in her mouth.

"Mmm. You’re not a bad cook, Nomi,” said Ms. Cunningham. “Well, I'm going to bed. Randy, you two better not stay up later than twelve or I swear I'll skin you alive, mister!" Ms. Cunningham made her way to her room.

The two looked at each other, even Nomi being alarmed, before darting upstairs. Unbeknownst to them, the woman poked her head out of her room and smirked before going back inside.

...

"That was inhuman dude, inhuman!"

Nomi nodded with wide eyes. How could she have known that he had made those rolls? He shook his head.

"That was...inhuman."

Randy laughed as he pulled out a blanket, pillow, and a large mattress. Nomi raised a curious brow.

"Uh Randy, you do realize I don't need a bed, right? I can just make myself a book again."

"No! I mean, no, you don't have to, dude. You made me food, so I wanted to return the favor. And besides, sometimes Mom checks in on me at night. She'll grow suspicious if she doesn't see you here asleep."

"Ah, I see."

Once again, Randy found himself searching in the sea of clothes for some comfortable pajamas for his teacher. He found a pair of shorts. He was about to continue searching for a shirt when Nomi stopped him.

"That's fine Randy. I usually sleep without a shirt."

"Oh. Okay." He handed Nomi the black pair of shorts.

...

Once again it was morning, and the powerful rays of the sun sliced through, hitting Randy's eyes. He groaned.

“I really need to get new curtains...”

He blinked and found that the extra mattress was gone, and only Nomi was left. He was sitting in the middle of his room...meditating.

A sly grin came upon Randy's face as he hopped to his feet with great stealth, marker in hand, but just as he was about to draw on him, Nomi spoke.

"Don't even think about it, Randy. Unless you want to be missing a few limbs."

Startled, Randy jumped and tossed the marker away. "What? I was just going to see if you were awake!"

"Well I am. Now let's get started on training."

Randy groaned. "Aw, come on Nomi, it's the weekend!"

"A ninja's duty is never not done just because it's the weekend, and besides, this will be fun. We're going to the woods to practice your stealth skills. Right now, you’re as stealthy as an elephant with four left feet."

"Hey! I have awesome stealth skills! I just haven't warmed up yet!"

"Alright then. Let's go to the woods and see just how ‘awesome’ your skills are."

"Fine."

...

The sweet scent of pine hit their noses the second they took a step into the small woods.

Randy dropped his gym bag, which was filled with bottles of water, a first aid kit, and his ninja mask. He reached inside, grabbing the said mask and briskly put it on, turning into the famous Norrisville High Ninja.

"Alright. So what are we doing first?"

In swift and quick movements, Nomi removed his casual clothing to reveal his ninja like suit. He pulled the strange black cape out of his gym bag and placed it on. The small green clip that rested on his chest glowed in the dim light of the forest. Randy was in awe.

"For one thing, we need to meditate for one hour—"

"Aw, that's so wonk, Nomicon!"

"It's necessary! You have to learn to be patient. A direct attack will only get you attacked—"

"Can you please stop using riddles? It's kind of unnecessary."

Nomi face palmed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Was this kid really that dumb? "Honestly Randy, are you seriously questioning me? I’m your teacher, you’re my student. I may be biologically your age, but that doesn't mean I’m a child like you. You have to listen to me. Now, I'm very patient, luckily for you. If not, I would have twisted you into a pretzel, or whatever it is you call it. So, without anymore interruptions, let us get on with the lesson, yes?"

“I’m not a child,” Randy muttered, before agreeing to let the lesson start.

They began to meditate. Sort of. Most of the time, Randy wouldn’t keep his mouth shut.

"Are we done yet?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"No."

"What about now?"

"No."

"Now?”

"Dammit, Randy! NO!" Nomi finally stood up. "You know what? Fine. Yes, we’re done.”

“YES!”

Nomi shook his head. “Let's begin with the warm ups."

Randy grinned. “So what are we—"

Suddenly a fist flew towards Randy. He managed to dodge it just in time. He snapped his head towards his teacher, who held a sly smirk.

"Now the real fun begins."

Randy gulped. Uh-oh. "Uh, hey Nomi, w-what are we doing?"

"Warm ups. When you successfully land a punch on me, we will begin the true lesson."

Randy's eyes widened in sudden fear as a barrage of fists came flying at him. The fists barely missed their target. Randy tried to desperately dodge, duck, and zip past each and every one of them.

"Oof!"

Randy fell on his butt. As he got punched in the stomach, he quickly got up and jumped away, barely escaping Nomi's deadly left hook. Finally, Randy boldly ducked and threw a punch, only for it to get blocked and thrown right back at his face. "Ouch!"

He looked up to see the deep concentration written all over his teacher's face.

“I have to break that concentration!”

With renewed energy, he bobbed and weaved under and over.

"You look like you're getting tired there." Randy teased. The two kept aiming and dodging punches. "Tired!?"

For a brief second, Nomi’s concentration seemed to drop so much that the left hook that was certain to have hit Randy missed and punched the tree behind him. Their noses were so close they could feel each other's heavy breathing.

Realization hit the two as Nomi had pinned Randy against the tree. It took Nomi a second too late before suddenly Randy's fist hit him hard in the chest, knocking him off balance.

"Gah!"

Nomi fell on his butt. He stared up in surprise before it melted into a smirk.

"Well, you caught me off guard. I guess you win. Now on with—"

"Ahaha! I got you! I just punched the ninja book! Haha! Wow!"

"That maybe true, but I did get you at least a dozen times."

Instantly, Randy's boasting ceased, and a pout replaced the victorious grin upon his face. Nomi chuckled at the quick change of demeanor on his student's face.

"Shall we begin the stealth lesson, Ninja?"

The mocking tone did not go unnoticed by Randy.

He bitterly replied, "Yes."

...

"Uh, where exactly am I?" Randy had been blindfolded.

"You see, Ninja, stealth has different aspects to it. Today we're going to practice sight and hearing. You will be blocking my attacks without knowing where I'll be coming from. After you, it will be I who will be blocking your attacks. Understood?"

"Yup."

Unknown to Randy, they were standing in a small clearing hidden and surrounded by tall pine trees. Nomi smirked as he pulled out his bamboo flute. He placed his hands on each end before pulling it, causing it to extend into a long wooden staff. Oh yes, this was going to be so Bruce.

There was a rustling sound in the bushes. A pause, then the sound rejuvenated in another area. Randy's left hand shot out, ready to block the oncoming attack, only to be hit on his right side.

"Ah!"

Suddenly, a barrage of attacks came out of nowhere. He successfully blocked some of them, but most of the time he was getting smacked around like a ragdoll.

"Gah! Okay, time out! Time out!"

"There are no time outs, Cunningham. The Sorcerer is a relentless enemy and will be hell bent on killing you. Be happy that this is just training and not an actual battle."

"I don't care! Timeout!"

Nomi huffed as he finally ceased fire. Randy removed the blindfold.

"C'mon, I know the Sorcerer is all tough and shit, but seriously, do you have to beat me with a stick?!" He gestured to the long bamboo staff in Nomi’s hand.

"Well, what would you like me to do then? Throw rocks and boulders at your head? Because if you want—"

"NO! No way! I think I prefer the stick!" He snatched the staff from Nomi's hand. "Anyway, it's my turn!"

An entire hour passed with Randy swinging and flailing the stick at the other male. With ease, Nomi dodged each slow and exhausted swing.

"I...I almost got you that time..." Randy said, panting pathetically. "Almost..."

Finally, out of pure luck, and the fact that Nomi was getting bored, the end of the bamboo staff tapped his arm rather softly. Randy collapsed onto the forest floor with Nomi hovering over him with an amused and concerned look.

"Are you okay?" He almost felt guilty for tiring him out this much. Almost.

"Y-yeah..." Randy moaned pitifully.

Nomi sighed, almost relieved. "Well, that's enough training for one day."

"Wait, how are you not tired!?"

"I have a lot of endurance, something you human beings don’t have. Even with the ninja suit, it doesn't mean you have the endurance to go on forever. I guess we're going to have to fix that. Tomorrow we're going jogging around the entire block. Also, I'm technically a book. I don't need all the necessities you need."

"Like going to the bathroom?" Randy got up with the help of Nomi. Nomi gave him a curious look. It was obviously a question that has been on his mind for a while.

"Yes...I don't really need to go. I can hold it for...a hundred or so years."

Randy stared at him. Nomi shrugged as he picked up the gym bag, pulling out a bottle of water and tossing it to Randy, who barely managed to catch it. Nomi pulled out one for himself and began to chug it down. He wiped his mouth and let out a small sigh.

"But, there are things I still need. Like water."

Suddenly, a small rumble was heard. Both Randy and Nomi looked down at Nomi's stomach.

"And food...I don't really need it like going to the bathroom. I can go almost an entire one hundred years without a bite to eat."

"When was the last time you ate exactly?"

"Err, 1920? Yes, somewhere along that time."

"What the juice Nomi! Yeah, no shit you're hungry! C'mon, maybe Mom's home so she can make you something to eat!"

In truth, Nomi hadn't eaten since 1816, but he felt it wasn’t important to bring it up. Nomi was, however, surprised by Randy's concern for him. After all, the past ninjas who he had revealed himself to simply shrugged it off and didn't seem to care after he said he didn't need food or any of the other necessities. That didn't seem to matter to Randy as he pulled off the ninja mask, placing it in the old gym bag along with the bottle of water.

Nomi was actually touched by Randy's kindness.

Randy grasped Nomi's hand as they took off in a brisk jog and in less than a couple minutes they arrived back at his home.

"Crud! If my mom sees you in your ninja suit she's going to ask about it. You think you can take it off?"

But of course Randy wasn’t perfect.

Nomi rolled his eyes. “Why didn't you tell me in the forest?"

"Err, brain fart?"

"I can tell."

Sighing, Nomi dug out his casual clothes from his bag in Randy's other hand before going into some bushes to change. Randy rubbed his neck and turned away. About a minute later, Nomi came out of the large green shrubs, sporting his casual clothing and his ninja clothing in his arm. Leaves and twigs were poking out of his now messy hair. Randy stifled a laugh.

"What?"

"Your hair...” Randy said in between laughs. “...dude...your hair..."

Nomi blinked. With his free arm, he felt his hair, realizing the mess that was now in his hair. He furrowed his brow and plucked them all out of his hair. He walked past Randy, who couldn’t stop laughing.

"Oh god...I'm sorry!...Haha! Okay, okay I'll stop...” Randy snickered loudly. He was trying very hard to stop laughing, but it took a minute to get himself together again. “Okay, now I'm done." Randy wiped at a stray tear as he let out a sigh before opening the door and letting Nomi in.

As fate would have it, Randy's mom wasn't home.

"Hehe, whoops." He gave Nomi a small nervous shrug. Nomi gave him a dark look before plopping down onto a chair by the counter. His stomach growled, reminding the two why they had left the woods in the first place. Randy looked through the wooden cabinets before pulling out two Mcfist's Cup-O-Noodles. Nomi raised a brow before remembering that Mcfist owned literally everything besides the city and the people themselves in Norrisville.

He watched with curiosity as Randy opened one cup and poured water in from the distilled water machine. When he was done, he opened the black microwave and placed the cup in the center, typed on the control pad three minutes, and closed it shut. Instantly, the microwave came to life and began cooking the noodles, rotating it. Nomi watched in silent awe, but was caught off by Randy.

"So uh, Nomi?"

The redhead blinked and turned to Randy, who was eyeing something on his cape. It was the green ninja head shaped relic.

"Yes?" He watched as he rubbed his finger over it. He would never tell Randy, but as he rubbed the relic, Nomi felt it was soothing and strange, very strange.

"What is that thing?" He was oblivious to his teacher's emotions, never taking his eyes off the relic.

"It's my life essence. It binds me to the book and my other belongings, so when I turn into my human form I come out wearing clothes."

Randy nearly dropped the said relic, but before he could reply back a ding was heard, interrupting their suddenly awkward conversation.

"Uh, your soup is ready." Randy pulled out the cup, which was hot. The smell of the cooked noodles filled their nostrils. He placed the cup in front of Nomi before grabbing a fork and handing it to him.

Randy quickly went to work on his own soup, putting it into the microwave.

"Oh, careful with the soup, Nomi. It’s really hot."

Nomi could sense that Randy was slightly uncomfortable, but he didn’t say anything about it. "Thank you." He focused on the noodles, taking a hesitant bite, but soon finding that it was at least good and edible.

Silence. The two didn't say a word as Nomi silently ate his meal.

Ding!

The silence was over as the chime-like sound cut through the deep awkward silence. Randy walked over and pulled out his own noodles and began to eat it, not caring that it was burning his tongue. He paused and went to the fridge, pulling out some juice boxes, handing one to Nomi and one for himself before continuing to eat.

Nomi finally paused in his eating, swallowing before talking.

"You know, I understand why you were curious, and I apologize for not telling you in a more appropriate manner." His accent made his apology sound so formal.

"No, it’s fine."

The two looked at each other briefly before going into a fit of laughter. They were cut off by the familiar sound of the door knob jiggling slightly. Randy's mother stepped in, humming.

"Oh Randy, you won't believe it! I got promoted, and I got a raise! I'll be working less hours now too! I'm officially second-in-charge of Mcfist and Weinerman Industries! Isn't that great?" The tall woman opened her eyes and was surprised to see that Randy was not alone. "Oh, why hello again, Nomi! I think I'm going to have to make more cookies! Where's Howard, hon?"

"Uh he's at home. He got in trouble."

"Ah, I see. Heidi?"

"Yeah. And congrats on the promotion, Mom! That’s great!"

The woman smiled, blushing lightly. "Well, I don't mean to brag, but I'm just so happy! Now if you’ll excuse, me I have to finish some important paperwork. See you boys later!"

With that, she walked past them and darted into her room.

Once again they were left alone.

...

The night came and the two sat tiredly on the couch long after Randy convinced Nomi to go to the bathroom. I mean c'mon the guy holds his bathroom for up to a hundred years the poor guy probably needs to go.

"I'm going to call Howard to see if he's still alive. I haven't talked to him all day."

Nomi nodded as he turned his attention back to the TV. The movie was about zombies. Although Nomi thought it was a stupid idea for humans to come back to life after death, he still found the movie rather intriguing. Well, at least the characters were. Back then the tough, buff males were usually the heroes, and yet here was this movie. The hero was a scrawny male, and then there was this rather feisty female, and they were both fine on their own. They were looking for survivors, forming a large group, or family as they called it, thriving despite their slim chances of survival.

Nomi couldn't help but smile. “That's how life should be. That’s how it should always be.”

While Nomi continued to watch the movie, Randy chatted with Howard on the phone.

"So, Heidi didn't tell on you then?"

"Yeah. She said if I helped her with her stupid online show then she wouldn't say a word."

"What did she make you do exactly?"

Howard grumbled.

"I'm sorry, what?"

More grumbling.

"What?"

Another series of grumbles.

"Howard, c'mon dude, I can't—"

"I SAID SHE MADE ME WEAR A STUPID DIAPER FOR HER PARENTAL SEGMENT! GEEZ!"

By then, Randy had burst into laughter, dropping his phone before picking it back up. "Haha, okay. So can you come over, dude?"

Howard grumbled. "Yes. I'll be there in ten minutes."

Randy grinned. "Alright. Don't forget to change your diaper—"

"CUNNINGHAM!"

Randy burst into another fit of laughter as he hung up on Howard, who was yelling a loud string of swears. Nomi turned to him, having heard only fragments of the conversation.

"May I ask what is so funny?"

Randy finally calmed down enough to tell him. "Heh, Howard's sister made him wear a diaper on her online show."

"Oh, you mean that hideous creature you two call a girl?"

"Yep." Randy didn't even bother to hide the grin on his face.

After about ten minutes, Howard came in without even bothering to knock, startling the two and causing Nomi to nearly karate chop him in half. After a heated argument between Nomi and Howard, they finally sat back down onto the couch and enjoyed the rest of the movie.

"So, the book told me you got pwned in training," said Howard.

"I didn't get pwned!" Randy shot a glare at the redhead, who gave him an innocent look. "When did he tell you this!?"

"When you were in the bathroom. Dude, it took you an hour and a half to punch him? And two hours just to poke him with a stick? While he was blindfolded!"

"Hey, you try it and you tell me if it's easy!" Randy slumped in between the two with a pout on his face.

The night had carried on and soon the movie was over. Howard left, leaving Randy and Nomi asleep on the couch.

At around ten, Randy’s mother came in the living room to wake up the boys and to tell them to go to bed. They quietly obliged.

….

It was night again. That meant tomorrow they would be going to school.

It would be Nomi's first day of school in over eight hundred years.

Nomi sighed, staring at the ceiling. He was only a little uneasy. He knew school had changed a lot since the last time he went to one. But how much different could it be? He basically knew everything they were teaching in the school, since when he had nothing better to do, he snuck into libraries of the school and the school itself to read as many of the subjects as he could. School definitely wasn’t going to be that hard.

Nomi looked over the sleeping figure of Randy.

Nomi didn't need sleep. He could go weeks without it. Yet as he watched Randy sleep, he couldn’t help but think that it looked almost fun to sleep, or something.

Nomi felt an odd ache in his heart. Most of the time his situation just didn’t hit him. He had been so busy being the Nomicon, being the teacher of several teenage ninjas, and nothing more, that he was too busy to even think about his life.

Sometimes Nomi wished he could have everything back. His family, his friends, his home, just everything. At times like these, Nomi wished he wasn't the Nomicon. He wished he was his normal self again, Nomi Conikos Norisu, the middle child of the famous Norisu Nine. With his five other siblings, Mei the little butterfly, his youngest sister, Ming, his clever also his youngest brother, they were the troublesome twins as his family would say. His brother Naru, who was a year younger than him, was bold and was his best friend, sister Yui, who was one year older than him, was the caring and motherly one of them all, and his eldest brother Daiku, the brave warrior and the more loved and respected of his siblings.

“And I the pathetic excuse of a brother, ninja, and Norisu.”

He recalled the events that had destroyed his family. He had been arguing with his grandparents a lot before the fire. Their parents had died, making them the Norisu seven.

Daiki had argued that Nomi wasn't fit to be a true ninja. He claimed that he was too immature, lazy, stupid...the list went on.

The scene became even clearer to Nomi. His brother, who looked like an older version of him, with the exception of his ponytail and golden eyes, arguing with their grandfather, and him tearing up and running off. Then there was the fire that had engulfed the entire village. The one that had wiped out his entire family. There was also his struggle to find the ninja suit and the original Nomicon. Then he had found his grandfather, dying, his last words a request to defeat the Sorcerer and to not put on the Ninja suit and to instead keep on the one he had on.

Back then he had not known why, but now he understood.

After the whole battle and becoming immortalized (and kept alive because his family gave a piece of their soul to bind him together), he had tried to search for his family until he was told by the surviving villagers that they had all perished.

He had made it his mission to find a ninja to defend the new village, which later became what it is now.

Norrisville.

Nomi blinked away the tears and soon realized it was early morning. He sat up. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat. He got up, putting away his blankets, pillow and mattress back where they belonged before going to the bathroom to shower. Randy had showed him how it worked, since he wasn't all too familiar with the modern method of bathing. He stripped himself of the pair of shorts and boxers before stepping into the shower. Instantly, the warm water made him feel refreshed.

When he was done showering, he realized he hadn't grabbed his clothes for the day. Nomi stepped into Randy’s room.

The day before, Randy had washed his clothes for him in the washing machine and had left them neatly folded by his dresser. Nomi felt slightly self conscious, walking around in Randy’s room naked. At least he had thought to grab a towel so he had something to cover himself with.

The purple-haired teen was still asleep. Nomi eyed the alarm clock next to the computer. It read 6:59 AM.

"Oh shit."

#Enter the Nomicon #ETN #Chapter 3 #story repost

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eloarei · 4 years ago

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Reaper, ch... I dunno, 7?

I was tired of not-writing, so I started what is probably roughly chapter 7 of the Reaper novel I haven’t actually properly started or plotted out yet. words: 2,169 (T-rated, f/m, gen) chapters: ??? I dunno fandom: original characters: Vanessa Mattock, Theocritus, Mr. Mattock ship: Vessa&Theo, Vessa/Theo (implied) tags: some supernatural nonsense, the difficulty of just living, adjusting to humanity, alcohol, notes: hey I wrote this in like 2 hours maybe? That’s the charm of not having to follow any rules I guess. Even though it takes place in the middle of the story (so I guess technically it’s chock full of spoilers?), it probably reads just fine if you have no idea what’s going on. x So there was a reaper living on her couch. Well, he wasn’t a reaper anymore, she guessed, but what was she supposed to think of him as? Theo. Theo was living on her couch, after he’d outstayed his welcome at Sid’s place. They’d had a nice, self-pitying afternoon together when she’d found him there, borrowing some of Sid’s bottom-shelf whiskey in the hopes of dulling their respective traumas. But in the end, Sid had grouched at them that his place wasn’t a goddam hostel and Vanessa needed to find a new place for her boss to slump in half-drunken misery-- he’d already put up with enough weird shit the past day, what with Camille straight disappearing on them after summoning a horde of demons and zombies to his door. (Theo later explained that that was an exaggeration; it was only one demon and the zombies hadn’t even made it anywhere close to the antique shop. Still, as Sid was mortal and mostly normal, it wasn’t a surprise that that was a bit much for him.)

Vanessa’s dad wasn’t going to be super pleased that she brought a ‘strange man’ into their house (boy, he didn’t know the half it-- like the fact that that strange man had saved his life), but he definitely wouldn’t stand the two of them getting drunk in the living room with all the shades drawn and the TV set to some trashy reality show, which was what she really sort of wanted to do. So instead of taking Theo back to her place right away, she’d walked them through the outskirts of town, off toward the seaside.

There was… a lot to say. Primarily she wanted to berate him for not being there for her when she really needed him, but now that she knew he’d been having a rough time of his own her sense of betrayal had mostly faded off. It wasn’t like he’d been ignoring her on purpose (though what was she supposed to think at the time? He always came when she called him, and sometimes when she hadn’t called him and he’d just fucking sensed she was thinking about him or whatever). And yeah, she was still pretty shook about realizing that her mother was probably still alive (and maybe even in the city), but becoming human again after at least a couple hundred years of weird immortality was… possibly even harder, she admitted to herself. So she tried to be supportive of what her boss (or maybe former boss?) was going through. “You, um… doin’ ok?” she’d asked, as they’d strolled down the street, staggering slightly on the occasion. He looked the long way down at her, probably hurting his neck in the process. He was a little bit draped over her, arm slung over her shoulders like an old pal, but even with his current slouch they didn’t even nearly match up in height. Back when he’d been his usual reaper-y self (the last time Vanessa had seen him before Tawney helped her track him down at the antique shop), he’d seemed to absolutely tower over her and everyone else, almost lost in shadow. Now he was just plain tall-- although it was still pretty freaking tall. “I… will probably survive,” he’d replied, sounding all the more pitiful in his proper English accent. “Well I fucking hope so,” Vanessa had said, at a loss for anything more substantial or kind. Be kind of dumb if he just died after all of this, she thought. Especially when there was still so much she was just starting to understand about this shadow world he’d dragged her into. (Well, ‘dragged’ was not totally fair; she did kind of offer, after all.) They hadn’t really talked much after that, until they’d ended up in front of her house, and Theo had cocked his head at her and said, “Why are we here?” Vanessa gave him a deadpan look. “You got kicked out of Camille’s friend’s place, remember? What, were you gonna sleep on the street?” “Sleep…” he’d said softly, like he was testing the word out, or the idea. “I hadn’t thought…” “Yeah, obviously.” And on purpose, too. Why else would the first thing he asked for have been alcohol, other than that he didn’t want to have to think about his new lowly position in life? But he was obviously tired-- eyes shadowed in a way that had nothing to do with the mystical and everything to do with physical and emotional exhaustion. She’d seen herself looking like that on more than one occasion, especially before he’d rescued her from the hellscape universe where her father was dead and there was nothing she could do about it. They’d gone inside, just walking like normal people instead of that vaguely-irritating appearing thing Theo had used to do before. (It was like he just hated doors or something, she sometimes thought.) Her father wasn’t home yet, and wouldn’t be for another few hours at least, Wednesdays being his longest work shifts. She took advantage of his absence by not sneaking around the house, guiding Theo to the living room couch and sitting him down. He sat there in the dusky darkness while she rummaged around in the kitchen for snacks. They didn’t have any alcohol in the house, but junk food could be just as good a balm. Sitting down next to him in the dark, Vanessa handed him a package of Oreos and a cola, while she dug into a fresh bag of cheese puffs and a Sprite. Theo looked down at the junk food in his hands. “What do I do with this?” he asked, apparently perturbed for some reason. She pulled the cola out of his hand with little resistance and popped it open, replacing it in his grip. “Drink,” she said. “You know how to do that.” Diligently, he took a swig of the chilly can, but his face morphed into a vague distaste as he swallowed. (Vague only because he was hardly emoting at all right now, she knew. At his normal rate of emotion, it would definitely be at least a scowl.) “This is far too sweet,” he said, and he set it aside on the end table. “Yeah, well,” Vanessa responded, grabbing the Oreos and ripping the package open. “You’re living now, okay, so you need calories and junk.” She pulled a cookie out and jammed it into his mouth. He seemed a little surprised, but he chewed on it anyway, and the tenseness in his shoulders faded a little. She didn’t know if that was because he liked it, or just because it was something to do. After a minute, she turned on the TV, keeping the volume low and just letting the colors wash over them. Theo was staring in the right direction, but she’d have bet he wasn’t really seeing the reality-TV shenanigans. (Probably a good thing, in this case, because it would have just annoyed him if he realized how stupid it was.) An episode or two passed, and she was starting to feel pretty drained. “Hey,” she started quietly, not wanting to shock Theo out of his trance too badly. “I think I’m gonna go crash. You should sleep too.” She got up to go find a blanket for him, but his gaze followed her, a little lazy, a little lost. “I don’t know how,” he said. “You don’t--” Vanessa blinked, and she blinked again. God, why was it her responsibility to teach him how to be a human? Shouldn’t it be Camille’s job since he was the one that took Theo’s powers? (Not that she thought Camille was great at being human either, but still.) She took a deep breath. “You just… Just close your eyes and don’t do anything. I dunno, pretend you’re dead.” A flicker of emotion crossed his face, probably unrelated to her suggestion. It was something she’d describe as ‘confused and annoyed about it’; maybe consternation. “I don’t know if I can do this, Vessa,” he said, and she knew he wasn’t talking about sleeping. Not exactly, anyway. “I mean, that’s…” She shrugged. “That’s life, right? You just have to take it a day at a time. A minute at a time.” He was zoning out a bit, staring at a spot on the wall, but she managed to catch his eyes and noted that they didn’t glow like they did before, that pale white-gold that always seemed to loom out of the shadows of her room. They were just light brown now, and tired. “Hey look… You know I’ll be here to help, okay? I’ve gotten through like ten thousand days. I’m sure I can help you through a few.” “Seventy-two hundred and sixty-three,” he said. “The days you’ve been through.” She scoffed and turned away to hide her smile. “Ok well that’s still a lot more than you.” She walked off to go find a blanket, wondering for a minute if Theo was going to be hot or cold natured, before she decided on an old course hand-woven thing her mom had picked up from somewhere, ages ago. She didn’t know if it’d be too hot or too cold, but if she was feeling as bad as she thought he was, that was the one she’d pick for herself. Ironically, he was out like a light by the time she got back. “Hey,” she said, draping the blanket over him. “Old man?” There wasn’t even the slightest downward twitch of lips, so she knew he was really finally asleep. Maybe his first sleep in a thousand years. She hoped it was a good one. She couldn’t say what exactly possessed her (maybe it was just that he couldn’t shy away or judge her), but she reached down and smoothed back that little piece of hair that always fell forward onto his forehead, and followed it up by pressing her lips to the empty space it left. She took a deep breath and inhaled his new, living smell. It wasn’t anything really specific. Just… warm. Smelled like hair and body oils and a little bit of lingering whiskey. Compared to the too-clean nothingness she’d whiffed before, when he pulled her close enough to teleport them someplace, it was just�� better, more real. Smelled like a man who was living some kind of life, step after step, not… two feet on the wrong side of a grave. “Sleep well,” she said, even though he wouldn’t hear her. Then she tottered up the stairs and fell into bed, with just enough energy and presence of mind to kick off her shoes. Of course she didn’t hear the front door open, or her father cautiously step around the strange man sleeping on the couch and up the stairs in the desperate hope his daughter would have some explanation. “Nessie,” he said softly, settling his hand on his shoulder and just barely rousing her. She turned and glanced over her shoulder at her father, miles too tired to remember anything other than the fact that she was stupid tired, but there wasn’t a moment in her life where she ever thought of brushing off her dad, so of course she shook herself awake. “Dad. What’s up?” “Do you know why there’s someone sleeping on the couch?” Vanessa sighed. “Uhh, yeah. That’s my friend. Theo.” “Theo doesn’t have his own place?” her dad asked, raising an eyebrow just a little bit, just enough to show he was skeptical, but not mad. She tried to get her brain back in order and remember the excuse she came up with earlier. “Uh, well, his place had a f- flood, like a bad one, and they made everybody get out, but he’s kind of new to the area. I mean, he just moved from England, so he doesn’t have any family or friends to stay with.” Mr. Mattock’s face wasn’t hard to begin with (it never was), but it softened to hear his daughter trying to help a friend in his time of need. “That’s nice of you,” he said, and Vanessa knew he was being genuine, though he still seemed just the slightest bit uneasy. “He doesn’t really look your age though. He’s not… your professor, is he?” Vanessa grimaced, and she could tell her face was turning a little red. “No! No, he’s, um, he works at the library on campus.” Her father hummed, but he didn’t seem to be really criticising her story. “Well, alright. I’ll let you get back to sleep and then maybe we can talk more in the morning. G’night, sweetie.” “Night, dad,” she responded, and she managed to hold back her heavy sigh until he was out of the room. And then she fell back to sleep. She wanted to stay up and think about all the stupid little details she was going to have to probably remember for his cover story, but she was too tired to think anything other than ‘screw it’. xXx

#elo fics #elo writes a novel #elo OCs #probably need to come up with an official title for this series #Elo Rogue-verse #original fiction #genre supernatural

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chain-unchained · 5 years ago

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June 27

After a nearly three mile walk from the nearest functioning bus stop, an exhausted Shane finally returned to Pelican town; it was Friday, the day he and his therapist in Zuzu City had set for their weekly sessions. The trip wouldn’t be quite so bad if the bus that old Pam used to drive still worked, but it had broken down some years ago and the town didn’t have the resources to get it fixed, so that unfortunately meant quite a walk to get to a bus that did work.

It still felt awkward and kind of shameful for him to walk into that office, even though the staff there were all very friendly and understanding—not to mention the therapist, who was quiet, unassuming, gentle but firm in his suggestions to Shane to help his recovery, both from the alcoholism and the depression, along.

Shane had always known that it was going to be hell, giving up alcohol cold turkey like he was; at first, the therapist had suggested weaning, but Shane knew himself well enough that he wouldn’t be able to help himself if he had even a drop of drink and insisted on cutting it off completely. Even then, he couldn’t have fathomed the toll it would take on his body, mind and mood—the first few days were the most hellish. He had the shakes, a piercing migraine that wouldn’t go away no matter how many aspirin he took, he was physically ill several times, and sleep was a far-fetched concept.

He felt really bad for Jas and Marnie, who had to deal with all of that and the piss-poor attitude that it brought with it, though he played it all off as just a severe flu bug. Maybe it was stupid, maybe he could have really used the support during the beginning, but he wanted to get through the worst of it of his own willpower.

Today was the first day that he hadn’t woken up feeling like absolute shit. In fact, he almost dared to say that it was manageable; his head didn’t feel like it was splitting open, and it didn’t take him an hour to muster up the strength to get up out of bed. He had managed to make an actual breakfast with the extra eggs that Charlie and the girls laid for them that morning. And hell, the walk to the bus station that morning actually left him feeling pretty damn good, even though the trip from it back to town that evening felt a bit less so. Having had one of the better days he’d had in a long time, Shane decided that today was a good day to tell Marnie and Jas what was going on.

Adjusting the shopping bag that he held in his hand, he tucked the other hand into his shorts pocket and strolled leisurely through town; the sun was beginning its descent from the sky, staining the crystal clear sky a fiery orange and red hue. On the way there, he stopped outside Pierre’s and checked the bulletin board on a whim. Sometimes someone would post a note about a free piece of furniture, or Pierre would leave a notice about an upcoming sale. His sales never reached the 50% off that Joja regularly offered, but at least Pierre’s stock was quality and worth the higher price.

“... Oh, that’s right.” Shane murmured to himself as he checked the calendar that hung next to the bulletin board. “The Luau’s coming up soon… Need to dig out those stretchy shorts and get them washed soon.” Next to the Egg Festival, the Luau was probably his favorite festival—it was a festival literally just centered on eating food, what wasn’t there to love about that? ‘Maybe I should give Ashe a heads-up.’ He pondered, turning on his heel and heading south towards the road leading home. Every household was expected to contribute both an ingredient towards the Luau’s main centerpiece, the potluck stew, and a cooked dish, and he didn’t want Ashe to be left in the dark if no one else thought to tell him about that since it was his first year in town.

He owed a lot to the kid, that much was for sure. If Ashe hadn’t been so stubborn and bullheaded about befriending him, there was a real likelihood that Shane wouldn’t be there that day. A real likelihood that he would have rolled right off that cliff like he’d fantasized about. For some reason, Ashe never gave up on him, and he never let Shane give up on himself.

Without realizing it, he was already standing outside the door to the ranch; he’d been so lost in his thoughts that his legs had just carried him to where he needed to go on their own. Pausing to bend down and rub at his knee which had started to ache from the walking, Shane opened the door and stepped inside. “I’m back.” He called as he pushed it closed behind him; as expected, the shop was empty, and he presumed that Marnie and Jas were in the kitchen given the smell of steak that filled the air.

“Oh, welcome home Shane.” Marnie greeted, looking over her shoulder as her nephew came into the kitchen; Jas looked up from her coloring book and waved a little to Shane before going back to her very serious business of perfectly coloring in her favorite princess from the Welwick Court. “Goodness, don’t you look happy?”

“Do I?” Shane moved over to the table and ruffled Jas’ hair lightly, unaware that he’d had a big, goofy grin on his face since he’d walked in; it felt good to be home and not be drunk or hungover. “I guess you’re right. I haven’t felt this light in… Yoba, I don��t even know how long.”

Marnie pulled the last searing steak from the frying pan and stuck it on the baking tray with the rest to go into the oven to finish cooking. “Let me guess…” She pondered, turning to look at Shane fully as she wiped her hands on her apron. “Gus had a clearance sale on canned beer?”

The comment stung a little, Shane couldn’t deny that; he didn’t blame her for thinking that, though. He’d kept her and Jas in the dark up til now, and as far as they knew he’d just gone off to work like he did every Friday. “Hah, good one.” He managed a half laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck, his grin becoming quite sheepish. “No, actually. I’ve been drinking sparkling water instead of beer… and I feel great.”

His words made Marnie freeze, her eyes widening in surprise; even Jas stopped coloring and looked back at Shane with eyes wide. To be honest, their reaction was bittersweet. It felt good to be able to say that to them, but at the same time, he had to realize how badly his behavior had affected them in order to elicit such a reaction. “Really?” His aunt managed to ask after a moment.

“Yeah.” Shane confirmed with a nod of his head. “… Y’know, sometimes I forget that I really do have friends.” He murmured, his face softening as he spoke. “People that care about me. And it’s okay for me to rely on them. It doesn’t make me weak.”

After a moment of silence, Marnie smiled and nodded her head in agreement. “That’s exactly right. I’m proud of you for realizing that.”

“Took me long enough, huh?” Shane turned his attention to Jas as he set the shopping bag on the table for her. “I’ve got something for you, kiddo.”

“Huh?” Jas blinked, looking up to her godfather for affirmation; when Shane nodded encouragingly, she pulled the bag closer and reached inside, pulling out an unassuming, plain looking box. Her little brows knitted together as she lifted the lid, and the contents practically made them fly off of her face as her eyes went wide again. “Th…. These are real bunny-jewel slippers!!!” She squealed. As if to confirm that it wasn’t fake, she ever so carefully lifted the shoes from the box and turned them over in her hands; sure enough, they were the real deal, and they were even her favorite color—purple. “B…. but these are so expensive!” She looked to her godfather in disbelief, feeling somewhat guilty that Shane had dropped so much money on a present just for her. “How did you afford them?”

Shane smiled and patted her head. “I’ve cut back on an expensive habit, so I’ve got a lot more spending money now.” He explained, glad that he was able to finally give her a proper gift—even if it was nearly a month past her birthday.

“…. Okay….” Jas looked back to the shoes, running her fingers over the sparkly tops.

Seeing the change in her demeanor, Shane knelt down to her level so he could speak to her as an equal. “Jas… I’m sorry about what happened before.” He murmured. As difficult as apologizing was, she deserved at least that much. “I said some stuff that really hurt you, and I should never have let you hear that from me.”

Jas froze a little as Shane spoke, going completely silent as she just stared at those twinkly shoes in her hands. “When I said those things… it’s not because I wanted to leave you or hurt you.” He continued, struggling a little with how to explain it in a way she could understand without sugar coating it. “It’s not your fault. I wasn’t feeling well because, uh… my head is sick, and it makes me feel sad and tired a lot… and…” His brain fizzled out, and after a few moments of silence, he sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, I barely understand it myself. It’s hard to explain… but I’ll tell you about it when you want me to, okay? Right now, I just need you to know that I’m working hard to get better. And it’s okay if you’re sad or scared or mad at me. Take as long as you need to feel how you feel.” He smiled, even though he knew she wasn’t looking. “I’m not going anywhere, squirt. I’m gonna work extra hard to be here for you.”

“….” His words were greeted with just more silence, as Jas’s little frame began to quiver slightly in her chair.

Concerned now by her continued quiet, Shane’s smile faded. “Jas? You okay--?”

Almost before he could finish speaking, Jas suddenly flung herself at him, knocking over her chair as she wrapped her arms around him and let out a heartbreaking wail of relief. She didn’t care if Shane drank, she didn’t care if he didn’t buy her the toys that she wanted—all she ever wanted was to hear him say that he wasn’t going to leave her too.

“Whoa—” Shane was nearly knocked over himself, managing to grab onto the table to steady himself before he folded the sobbing child into his arms. “It’s okay, just let it out.” He murmured with a smile, holding her close as she buried her face into his chest. Of course, he didn’t like to see her cry like that, but at least he knew that they were tears of happiness this time.

As she watched the scene unfold, Marnie couldn’t help but wipe a few tears from her own eyes, smiling as she saw the person that she knew Shane had always been deep down. It meant the world to her that Shane finally saw enough of his own worth to start getting better.

“Do you want to put on your new slippers?” Shane gently asked Jas, once her sobs had quieted; with a sniffle, she nodded, lifting her face from his now soaked shirt as she did so. He set her on her feet and picked up her chair, waiting for her to sit back down in it before he helped her to put the slippers on. “So, what do you think?”

Jas extended her legs out in front of herself so she could judge them on her feet. “… I love them.” She said with a slight hiccup, unable to stop the happy smile that came onto her face. “And I love you, Shane~ Thank you for getting these for me…”

Dinner that night was one of the most peaceful they’d had in a long time; Shane actually sat at the table and ate with them, rather than taking his plate into his room like he always did. He reminded Marnie about the Luau, and they talked about an upcoming seminar on livestock regulations that would be held in Zuzu City a few days before the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies.

“I’m not quite sure what to do about that, to be honest.” Marnie admitted as she cleared away their finished plates. “I was going to ask Jodi if she’d be willing to watch Jas while we’re away, but during aerobics on Tuesday she mentioned that she and the boys were going on a family trip to the carnival. And Penny has that class that she’s been looking forward to taking for months now…”

“I don’t need a babysitter, auntie.” Jas pointed out as she finished the coloring job she’d been working tirelessly on all evening. “I’m eight years old now, I can take care of myself.”

“Oh, we don’t doubt that for a minute kiddo.” Shane leaned back in his chair with a smile. “But someone has to keep an eye on you to make sure no one tries to steal you away.” He thought for a moment, rocking back and forth slowly on the back legs of the chair. “… Hey, why don’t we ask Ashe to watch her?” He suggested, looking to his aunt as the idea struck him.

Marnie turned the faucet in the sink on and began to fill the left half to soak the dishes. “You know, the idea did cross my mind.” She admitted, turning around to look at Shane pointedly—she hated when people did that, it was so bad for the chair. “Do you think he would mind?”

“Well we won’t know unless we ask.” Catching the look she was giving, Shane promptly set all four legs back on the floor. “I was going to talk to him about the Luau tomorrow, I’ll run the idea by him then too.”

“Alright. I’ll leave it to you, then.” Marnie glanced at the clock on the wall. “Alright, little lady. It’s bedtime. Let’s go get a book picked out—”

“I want Shane to read to me tonight.” Jas insisted emphatically, much to their surprise. “Please?” She pleaded, looking to her godfather with the biggest puppy-dog eyes she could muster.

Momentarily stunned by her request, Shane managed to smile. “Sure, squirt. It’s been a hot minute since I read a book, though, so you might have to help me out.” He got up from his chair, looking to Marnie as Jas took hold of his hand; with a smile, Marnie nodded her head, and Shane led Jas out of the kitchen towards her room.

Neither of them could remember the last time Jas had asked for Shane to put her to bed. It did Marnie’s heart a lot of good to see the two of them bonding again, and she found herself unable to wipe the smile from her face as she washed, dried and put away the dishes. By the time she was done and pouring herself a cup of coffee, Shane returned to the kitchen, reaching around her—“’Scuse me, I’m just going to be rude real quick,” he said with a grin—to get a cup for himself.

“So, how did it go?” She asked, sitting down at the table with a novel of her own to read a little before bed.

“It went fine.” Shane poured what was left into his cup and rinsed the pot under the faucet. “She kept trying to put off going to sleep, though. ‘That story was too short, you gotta read me one more’ and all that jazz.” He took a drink of the bitter brew.

Marnie smiled and took a sip of her own. “… I want you to know I’m real proud of you, Shane.” She said after several moments.

It was something Shane hadn’t expected her to say. “I haven’t done anything worth being proud of yet.” He insisted, setting his cup on the counter. “I’ve still got a lot of work to do before that happens. I didn’t want to say anything until today, but the last few Fridays I’ve been going to see a therapist in Zuzu. I just… wanted to prove to myself that this is something I could do before I got anyone’s hopes up, y’know?”

“So that ‘flu’ you had a few weeks ago wasn’t really the flu, I take it?” Marnie guessed shrewdly, to which Shane held up his hands in surrender. “Normally I don’t appreciate being lied to, but I’ll let it slide this time.” She set her own cup down and opened the book before her. “Does Ashe know?”

“Yeah… to be honest, he’s the main reason I was able to get help in the first place.” Shane admitted with an awkward laugh as he rubbed the back of his neck. “For some reason, he just never gave up on me. I owe him a hell of a lot.”

“It’s real sweet how close the two of you have gotten.” Marnie gave him a warm smile. “I’ve never seen someone melt that heart of yours like he has. You should let him know how you feel at the Moonlight Jellies~”

Her suggestion puzzled Shane, her intent flying right over his head. “The… Moonlight Jellies? Wwwwhy that festival specifically?”

“Because it’d be all the more romantic, of course.” Marnie looked back to her book and turned the page slowly. “Of course, I can understand not wanting to wait that long to get together. I still remember my first romance and how impatient I was… ah, to be young and in love again.”

“Roman—lo—” Shane sputtered, his face turning red as it clicked in his head what she was getting at. “Marnie, come on, you’re reaching here. I appreciate what the kid’s done for me, and… well, maybe there is something there, but I’m way too old for him don’t you think? And that’s not to say that I have no idea if he even thinks of me like that, or if he even swings that way to begin with—”

“Shane, when you live as long as I have and work in a business like this,” Marnie interrupted his protests casually, “you learn to be a real good judge of people. Trust me, you’ve got more of a chance than you think. I just see how well the two of you get on and the side of you that he brings out. Give it some thought.”

Unable to think of what to say to that, Shane quickly finished off his coffee and set the cup in the sink. “I’m going to bed.” He announced as he cleared his throat. “Good night, Marnie.”

“Night, dear.” Marnie waved her fingers at him over her shoulder, hiding a laugh at his quick exit. Even if nothing came of it in the end, she at least wanted to make him aware of his feelings.

#sdv #sdv shane #sdv farmer #stardew valley #stardew #stardew valley shane #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley fanfiction #sdv fanfic #sdv fanfiction

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luving-hanni · 6 years ago

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That one time at camp...

Title: That one time at camp Paring: Doyoung x Reader Genre: fluffy smut. Jk smut Warnings: Sex and foreplay so all that jazz. Comments: Yes, this was originally with Taeyong, but now it is with Doyoung. Sorry not sorry. I think Johnny’s personality matches this story more, but I already changed the names three times.

It was the last week of camp. You loved being a camp counselor but it was emotionally draining and you were ready for session one to leave and be done with. Thankfully, your camp director gives the staff a week off to recover and prep for session 2.

Luckily, your male counselor partner was Doyoung. All of your staff was super jealous that you got the super caring, great with kids, and hot counselor. He was really good with kids and he literally looked like dad at camp trying to keep his kids in line.

Anyway, it was the last dinner for session one. By the ice cream machine, Doyoung stopped you. “Hey, what you are you doing tonight” This would be the first time you get to hand out without the campers so you were curious to see where this was going. Exhausted, you shrugged “probably go to sleep early and not wake up untill 2pm tomorrow.” He raised an eyebrow. he knew. “please move, I want ice cream.”

It was pretty obvious that you had a crush on his... so did everyone else at camp. He lifted his eyebrow “I wanna take you to the top of the mountain tonight,” you jokingly replied “that sounds like kidnapping.” You have never been to the top of the mountain at night. Mainly because after putting the kids to bed, you passed out. Remember, the kids are like 15+ but you’re a mom.

Doyoung took you hand “i’ll be outside at 11:45. bring a blanket... and some bug spray” You felt your cheeks turning all different shades of red. Was this a date? you thought to yourself. You finally got your ice cream and continued on your day.

[ 11 :45 pm ]

After putting the kids to “sleep” (they were so excited that it was the last day, but sad), you showered and put on some comfortable clothing. Sprayed that bug spray like crazy and put it in your bag. No more bug bites for you. Sure enough, Doyoung was outside of your window with some flowers! Where did he get a bouquet of flowers? The closest store was literally miles away. He winked at you. You quickly grabbed a blanket and headed downstairs. As your door closed, you thought you forgot your key. Luckily, you already packed it in your bag.

You rushed over quickly towards him and a little nervous.A lot nervous. He handed you the flowers and took your hand. Woah. You got in his car as he started to drive up the mountain. Trying to make small talk, you asked about his campers and everything. Checking out the campers is always crazy. They never know what to do. . . no one does. Everyone is sad too.

After driving in near silence for what seemed like an eternity, you arrived to the top of the mountain. The overlook was beautiful. The distant city lights had you in awe. You got out and started to set up the blanket “come on, I know a secret spot,” he shouted across the parking lot. You got up and ran to catch up with him. A few minutes of walking, he brought you to a little ledge that had an even more beautiful view. He put his backpack down and took out a few of those candle things that repel bugs. “Me too” as your took out your bug spray and sat next to him.

You could tell he was nervous too. All the camp stress was a lot, but small moments like this made you happy and reminded you why you come back year after year. Doyoung was nervous. You felt his nervous energy. You also felt the sexual tension. “hey” you whispered to him. He didn’t even reply, he just put his hand on you thigh. You inhaled sharply.

The next moment he was on top of you. You took a chance and leaned in closer to him. His soft lips met yours and you embraced in a cute little kiss. Neither one of you pulled away, and both seemed to know what was to happen next. You kicked off you shows and pushed your body closer to his. You felt a hardness growing down there. It has been months since you last got laid and this was exciting, but hooking up with your fell camp counselor?! hey, we all have our stories.

Doyoung took off his shirt which revealed his toned stomach and abs. He had the cutest little happy line going down. You eyes bulged seeing how beautiful he was. He laughed and kissed your nose “do you mind if we... it’s been a long time... “ you nodded, thinking the same thing. He took you hand and placed it on his growing hardness. A quiet moaned slipped from his lips. You started to rub and he fumbled to take his pants off. He was wearing the cutest boxers. They had watermelons and you let out a giggle. Tough Doyoung is out here wearing cute little watermelon printed boxers. He shot you a look as he placed his hand on your stomach.

Your stomach and side area was super sensitive. You felt yourself getting wetter by the idea of what could happen later. He took a chance and moved his hand lower and lower. After playing with the waist band of your undies, his puppies asked for more. Sheepishly, “can we ... do it?” he asked as he began to take off your pants. You teased back “someone is eager.”

You got bot to stroking his length and his hand found itself at your moist (sorry not sorry if you hate this word) entrance. He began to circle your cl*t and you let out a moan. This made him go even faster, you threw back your head with pleasure. He was still hard as ever and you told him to stop as you moved down between his legs. You licked you lips got a lickin’ (I hate myself. I am also procrastinating). You never thought that you would ever have Kim Doyoung’s length in your mouth. It felt amazing. It was the perfect size for you not to gag on.

With each lick, he let out louder moans. Through breathy words, he said “so good, keep going, i’m close.” You stopped “oh? you’re not coming without me.” He grunted back “ugh fine.” He was clearly displeased, but wanted to finish so quickly placed his hands back in your pants.

A few moments later, he was tired of waiting and took his boxers and your undies. You turned your back to be spooned by him. He lined himself up with your wet and ready (slip and slide) entrance. Doyoung slowly glided himself in you, both of you letting out a sigh of pure bliss.

With every thrust, you became closer, and he did too. He pulled out for a second to slide on a rubber then he continued. You got on your hands and knees and he positioned himself behind you. He thrusted faster, but you needed more.

Somehow he knew that you needed more so he slide a hand on you cl*t and began rubbing as he continued to thrust. After a few minutes, you came and rode out your high as he did the same.

Flopping down next to him, breathlessly you told him that was a perfect way to end session 1. He held you closer before falling asleep.Deep down, you hope you can end the summer like this again. That was one of the best highs you ever had and it felt real good. You also knew to keep it professional. Or at least try to.

at 4am ish, you woke back up and told him that you need to drive back to camp before people think things. All of the counselors knew people hook up with on another on the last day of each session, but no one dares speak of it. Session II always has drammmaaaa and tea. A groggy Doyoung woke up and complained it was too early to go back. You got him into his car and drove back down the mountain back to camp.

The recovery week was a blessing. All of the counselors had little responsibility during the week except attend additional trainings from 10-5 daily. You and doyoung always ate lunch together but made sure to each breakfast and dinner desperately- you didn’t need any rumors going around camp.

Most of the other staff knew about the two of you, but everyone had their respectful partner at camp so... it didn’t bother you all that much. As long as the campers and camp director doesn’t know about it, it’s okay ;)

[end very end of camp]

Well, during the day, you and Doyoung keep it very professional. You tried to barely look at him. It was actually awkward sometimes that you couldn’t be together in public. The two of you didn’t know how to act. Every night, you snuck out somewhere different to hook up. It was the best sex of your life. It was kind of strange hooking up with him because you felt so close to him yet it’s not “official” a relationship. It was nearly impossible to truly “date” while at camp.

#nct fanfic #nct doyoung #kim doyoung #doyoung #doyoung fanfic #admin lanlan

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loverosier · 7 years ago

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Redamancy

MASTERLIST

PAIRING: Felix Rosier x Female Jacob’s Sibling

SUMMARY: Years after Hogwarts, your family arranged a marriage between you and your former Prefect, Felix Rosier, who only seems to see you as a friend. Eventually, you and he must talk about the state of your relationship.

WORDS: 3,478

WARNING: Mention of death

A/N: Argg this is not my best work but I really like the arranged marriage trope/au. The og draft had so much more angst but I wasn’t feeling it so I tried to minimize it as much as I could. So here it is...semi-angst?? Anyway, thanks to all the lovely people who supported Unsubtle! :) I need to give more love to other characters so I don’t know when you’ll see a 3rd Felix fic from me (although I might write short follow up ficlets to this story).

England, at that moment, was drenched in sunlight. Peering out the window from the confines of your kitchen, you could see the willow tree’s sweeping canopy of light green leaves sway in a rhythmic manner. You reluctantly averted your gaze from the tranquil tree to pour fresh boiling water from the kettle to a cream white teapot. The teabags steeped in the hot water and soon colored it green.

You delivered the teapot and several teacups to your living room’s coffee table just as a knock sounded on the door. “Coming!” you yelled as you settled the tray on the table and rushed to the front door. When you opened it, you were welcomed by the sight of your old friend, who wasted no time to leap at you and encircle her pale arms around your figure.

At twenty-one, your blonde-haired friend looked stunning as ever. Slim, tall, and pretty, Penny was not someone you would easily miss in a crowd, especially when she was a renowned owner of a potion shop in Diagon Alley, where you sometimes stopped by on days that St. Mungo relieved you of your mediwitch duties. “Am I late? Is Rowan here yet?”

Your lips quirked upward and you shook your head. “No, don’t worry,” you said and gestured a hand towards your sofa. “Come, sit. I brewed some tea for you and baked some pastries. Rowan should be arriving soon.”

As if on cue, you heard faint rumbling and you whipped your head to the empty fireplace across the room. A few seconds later, the rumbling intensified and the fireplace burst into emerald flames. When the flames abated, two figures you recognized to be Rowan and her small daughter Alisha stepped out. Rowan dusted off the Floo powder from Alisha’s sundress and then her own clothes before moving to pull you into a tight hug. “Merlin’s beard, it feels like I haven’t seen you both in years!”

You pulled away and rolled your eyes. “It’s only been about two months, Rowan,” you said as you watched her embrace Penny. Pulling your attention from them, you spotted Alisha rooted in the same spot near the fireplace, nibbling on her fist and curiously scouring the room with her big brown eyes. You approached her and knelt to her level. “Hello, sweetheart. Would you like some sweets? I have sweets on the table.” You offered her a hand.

Alisha looked over your shoulder at her mother and back at you. Shyly, she nodded and grasped half of your hand with her tiny fingers. You stood up and lead her to the coffee table, not missing the tender smiles on both of your friends’ faces.

Rowan and Penny seated themselves around the coffee table near you and soon, you fell into a chatter about the things that happened over the last few months: Ilvermorny's teaching job offer to Rowan; Penny’s sporadic love interests; the strange injuries you’d witnessed at St. Mungo’s; and even catching up with your other friends’ lives who you hadn’t spoken to in a while because of busy schedules.

While you chat with your friends, you couldn't help but dote on Rowan’s daughter on the side. At last, the conversation shifted from Sirius Black’s escape from Azkaban to you. “I still don’t understand why you don’t have children yet,” Rowan pondered out loud. “You and Felix would be such good parents, I’m sure of it.”

You gave a half-hearted laugh. “I’m a busy mediwitch and Felix . . . well, his job at the Ministry isn’t any easier.” It was true. Your differing schedules meant that you and Felix were hardly at home at the same time. Although, that wasn’t truly the reason why even two years into the marriage, you and your former Prefect remained childless.

After Felix graduated back in your third year, you’d lost contact with him, but you had heard whispers of his success and rumors that you did not have the heart to repeat. Your life at Hogwarts as a not-so-secret curse-breaker went on until you broke the curse on the last vault in your seventh year and you were hit with the harsh realization that your missing brother Jacob had been long gone.

Your family took Jacob home and buried him. And along with him, you buried any chance you had at a future of being a curse-breaker. The fire in you had diminished. You wanted to leave your past of troubles and mischief behind.

You graduated from Hogwarts and went back home, where you often walked the halls by yourself, lamenting over how lonely the house had become in your brother's definite absence. Your mother and father turned to the dark arts to cope over his death. They had never opposed the fanatical pureblood ideals in all the years you’ve known them. Now, they made it known that they wholly support it and You-Know-Who.

When you turned nineteen, they arranged a respectable marriage between you and a pureblood man: Felix Rosier, your former Prefect who you hadn’t seen in more than six years. At first, the arrangement proved to be uncomfortable for the both of you. You remembered being squeamish and him being aloof when you two were left alone to socialize in light of the engagement announcement. For a few months even after the marriage, your relationship wasn’t well, but after some time, your relationship fell into a pleasant friendship. And it has stayed that way even now.

“I hope he's treating you well.” Penny’s low voice cut through your thoughts.

“Of course,” you replied and patted Alisha’s head before facing your friends. “Felix has always treated me well. He is quite the gentleman, really. He respects my opinions and my boundaries, and he doesn’t hesitate to put my well-being above his.”

Penny looked at you and sipped on her tea. Out of all your friends, she was the only one to know that things weren’t always this way between you and Felix. Your relationship with him back at Hogwarts was that of a mentor and his successor, but after you wed, he had become cold and distant. You never knew why, but then again, you never set to find out

“Do you love him?” Rowan asked, and her question caught you off-guard that you almost froze in your seat.

When you didn’t speak, Rowan began to stutter out an apology. “No, don’t apologize. I was just reflecting. Felix and I are good friends, so of course I love him, but I know that’s not want you meant to ask,” you said. “I’ll admit . . . I love him. I find myself wanting to spend more time with him.”

“Does he know?” Rowan asked. You stared at your hands folded on your lap and sighed.

“He doesn’t.” He could not know. How could you tell him when he has never given you a reason to do it? Many purebloods married to keep their line pure. More often than not, their marriage was devoid of love. You and Felix were just another statistic to this fact.

Penny and Rowan must’ve sensed the discomfort in your voice. After the silence your reply entailed, you returned to discussing Sirius Black. Before long, the sun turned golden and painted the sky a blend of yellow, bright orange, and red. Alisha had dozed off with her head on your lap and her short legs sprawled on the sofa. After several minutes, Rowan took the sleeping Alisha from your lap and into her arms and prepared to bid you a goodbye.

“You better come and visit me before you move to America,” you said to Rowan, who replied with a “of course!” She tossed Floo powder into the fireplace and the same emerald flames from before came into view. Rowan cradled Alisha in her arms and flashed you a smile before she yelled the name of her residence. The fires engulfed her and she disappeared.

“I guess I should go, too. I need to head home soon,” Penny said. She slung her bag over her shoulder and turned to you with her arms spread wide. You grinned and let her arms envelop you. While in her arms, she whispered to you, her lips almost brushing against your earlobes: “You should tell him. You never know, he could be feeling the same way.”

You pulled away and shook your head. “And if he doesn’t? I’m afraid that it would ruin the friendship we’ve built, Penny. I’ll keep my feelings to myself. Our friendship is good enough for me.”

Penny wordlessly took your hand in hers and squeezed it. You wished she could stay; she has always been there for you in your loneliest times. You knew that once she was gone, you would be back to being alone in this big house until your husband returned from the Ministry.

Penny raised two fingers to her forehead in a salute and disapparated. Just like that, the house was silent again. You gazed out of the window that overlooked a whole field of wild white and lavender flowers and caught sight of the same willow tree you were admiring in the kitchen. Its drooping branches and leaves swayed less now. You read in a book once that the willow tree gives hope, safety, and a sense of belonging. You hadn’t felt that in a while.

As you turned away, your last words to Penny echoed in your head. Is it really enough? the voice in your head was faint, but it rang loud and clear in your mind.

To pass the time, you decided to clean the library. When Felix left the Rosier manor and insisted that the two of you to live by yourselves in this house, you’d opposed to having house-elves. There was no reason to have them when both of you kept your home neat and orderly in your spare time. Besides, you had no children.

You walked into the library with a feather duster in hand. As you cleared the surface of the mahogany table at the center of the room, you knocked over a shallow box. It fell and envelopes poured out onto the floor. You quickly knelt to pick them up.

Most of the envelopes were browning and some were torn open while some remained sealed. You examined the writings in the back of the envelopes. All of them had stamps and the penmanship was elegant. They were all addressed to Felix Rosier, and the return address was written at the top left corner below a woman’s name—a name that was familiar but you could not remember.

“YN?” the voice startled you. You looked over your shoulder to see Felix towering over your kneeling figure. You saw his eyes shift from you to the envelopes in your hands. With light and slow strides, Felix came to your side and started picking them off the floor and into the shallow box. You inhaled his scent—an aroma of coffee and bread. He must’ve stopped by a coffee shop in Diagon Alley on his way back.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured and helped you to your feet. “I haven’t had time to dispose of them,” he said. You, however, did not take notice of his words. You were too occupied with searching your mind for any mention of that woman and trying to attach a memory to her name.

Cool fingers lightly touched your arm. You blinked and found yourself mesmerized by Felix’s warm chestnut brown eyes behind his black-rimmed glasses. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“The writer of the letters,” you said, stumbling over your words, “who’s she?”

Felix retracted his fingers, cleared his throat and fiddled with the knot of his necktie. In almost two years you’ve been his wife, you came to identify this behavior as his way of showing that he was nervous. Whether he was aware of that or not was a mystery to you.

“She was my girlfriend,” he said after some hesitation, “before I married you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. You remembered where you’d heard that name from now. You had heard it from the lips of a gossip in Diagon Alley.

When you and Felix wed, the wizarding world watched the two of you with careful eyes through the newspapers. You were Jacob’s sister, a pureblood witch famous in your own right for opening the cursed vaults, and Felix was one of the wealthy yet tarnished Rosier family’s heirs. The union certainly elicited some gossip, and one of them that you heard was that Felix was romantically involved with a woman, and his betrothal to you forced him to break it off.

What a horrible thing, you thought. Is that why he was so cold to me when we married?

“Do you still talk to her?” What you meant to ask was if he still loved her, but the words wouldn’t leave your mouth.

“No,” he said with seemingly no hesitation and walked past you to reorganize the surface of the mahogany table. “I haven’t spoken to her in years.”

“Oh.”

Silence reigned in the room until Felix, with his back turned against you, said, “You should go to bed. It is late and I don’t want you to wake up in the morning exhausted. I will take care of the library.”

“Are you sure?” you asked. You stared at his back. Although he said he no longer had contact with her, you felt unease and doubt creeping in. You were his wife but did he love you like he loved her? Could he love you like that? Deep down, you guessed the answer, and it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Do not worry about me, YN,” he said reassuringly. Still, he did not face you.

There was an impulse, a sudden urge for you to open your mouth and say something, but you only clenched your jaws tight. You decided then that maybe you’ll take Penny’s advice, but not at this moment.

With a final look, you left the library and headed to the bedroom you shared with him. Having already changed into your sleeping clothes earlier, you laid comfortably on one side of the big, cold bed and draped thin sheets over your body. The clock ticked as you laid still, waiting for Felix to open the door and lay by your side.

You stayed awake for what must have been hours, but he never came. Soon, your eyelids became too heavy. You looked outside and saw the bright stars that dotted the night sky gaze back. Then, the darkness welcomed you.

You slowly opened your eyes and propped your body on your elbows. The night sky greeted your sight first. Behind the translucent curtain and glass door leading to the balcony, the silver moon and stars shined bright. It could’ve had you in a trance if only soft snoring did not pull you from its enchantment. You jerked your head to the sound of the snore and found your eyes fixated on your husband.

A sudden realization occurred to you. Yesterday—the day after Penny and Rowan visited—you’d fallen asleep on the sofa after a tiring day at work. You didn’t recall waking up and coming up to your bedroom.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Did he carry me here?

Felix slept on his side, his body facing you. His chest rose and fell slowly and his lips parted to let out the soft snores you heard. Even in the dim lighting, you could make out his sharp cheekbones and jaws that you wanted to trace with your thumb. You inclined your head towards his and hovered your hand above his face. Your fingers lingered centimeters above his cheek before you sighed and untangled your body from the thin blanket.

The floor was cold underneath your bare feet as you strolled towards the balcony, running a hand along the smooth marble balustrade. The summer night air was chilly, but your body was still warm from sleeping under a blanket and being so intimately close to Felix so it did not bother you. In the distance were silhouettes of houses and trees, and the crickets filled the night with their song. You leaned onto the balustrade and breathed in. The sullen night soothed you, and you closed your eyes to familiarize yourself more with it and to get lost in your thoughts.

You kept them close for a while, even when you heard the glass door slide open, even when you shivered from the cold, and even when his footsteps stopped some unknown distance behind you. “It’s cold out here. You should come back to bed,” Felix said.

You made no sound. There were footsteps again, and then there were none. You only opened your eyes when you felt him drape a thin yet cozy blanket over your body. Felix stood beside you, his back straight. His hands were clasped together behind his back and his eyes were aimed at the night sky. He noticed that he did not wear his glasses tonight.

“Something on your mind?” he asked a few moments later. You looked away from him.

“Just thinking,” you said and pulled on the blanket to wrap your body tighter.

“I can tell that it’s troubling you. You can trust me, YN.”

“I know,” you replied and reflected on his words. Almost as low as a whisper, you asked, “Do you resent me?” You felt Felix freeze beside you.

“For what?”

Your mouth suddenly became dry so you swallowed before you continued, “They made you leave her for me. At least, that’s what I heard.”

“Oh,” Felix gave a soft sigh. You felt his eyes burning through you. “The past is in the past. I don’t hate you, although I do admit that I was too cold to you at first. For that, I am truly sorry. It was never your fault.”

“I’ve already forgiven you,” you said and looked at him under your lashes. There it was again: a question burning at the back of your throat, itching to come out, and Felix sensed it.

“There’s something more you want to say,” he stated.

Sometimes you hated how easily he could read you. You heaved a sigh before you began, “Can you . . . can you ever learn to love me? I know we married because of convenience, but . . .”

He didn’t say anything, and somehow, it felt like a thousand needles piercing your skin with heavy force. “Never mind, sorry, that was a foolish thing to ask,” you said quickly with a nervous laugh.

“No, just unexpected,” Felix finally spoke. “You are so brilliant, did you know?” he murmured, “Sometimes I wonder why you allowed yourself to marry me. I have never been a good husband to you.”

You frowned. “Hey, that’s not true.”

He only responded with silence. Somehow, you knew that what you said didn’t reassure him.

A few moments passed and you shivered more even under the blanket. The night wasn’t turning out well, and you wanted to sleep it away. “You’re right, Felix. It is cold. We better come back to bed.” You turned to leave, but Felix caught your wrist. The sudden gesture almost made you let go of the blanket.

“Wait, I never answered your question,” he said.

“Oh, listen, you don’t really need to—”

“Please, I think you’d want to know.” His brown eyes were serious and pleading, and gentle like his grip on you. “I can learn to love you, but if I’m being honest, I think I already have.”

That took you by surprise. “You have?”

“For a while now, I keep finding myself thinking of your laughter and smile. I will not lie and say that it didn’t make me smile too,” he said. “I didn’t know how to tell you. For two years, we have been treating each other as friends, not lovers. I didn’t want to ruin what we have.”

He was doing exactly the same thing as you! You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, and Felix shot you a confused look. “It’s just that . . . well, you’re also describing me and my feelings,” you said.

Felix smiled and let go of your wrist. “I guess we’re an odd couple.”

“I suppose,” you said and mirrored his expression.

Felix closed some spaced between the two of you and cupped your chin gently. “If I may, Mrs. Rosier . . . I would like to make you smile and laugh. I would like us to love each other, the way it should have been.”

You stared into his brown eyes and for the first time in a long time, you felt hope, safety, and a sense of belonging. Just like that beautiful willow tree that you admired. “That would be lovely, Mr. Rosier.”

[Hey guys! I’m trying to really improve my writing so feedback on any of my fics is very appreciated!]

#felix rosier #felix rosier x reader #felix rosier x mc #felix rosier x jacob's sibling #hogwarts mystery #hphm #fanfics #my fanfics #penny haywood #rowan khanna

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page-of-tales · 6 years ago

Text

Frontier Medicine III

1.8k words

Final part to Frontier Medicine

Tara glanced at the flight controls. But for some reason the readings she was looking at didn’t make sense. She tried to reexamine the data but she couldn’t understand what she was looking at. She turned to talk to her co-pilot only to see the entire fighter was filled with smoke. The thick oily smoke filled her lungs and she struggled to breath. Desperately she tried to call for help, for her crew to evacuate. Despite her growing panic her body seemed to refuse to listen. The smoke soon enveloped her and she started to choke. This was wrong. With a willful movement she thrust herself forward out of her chair as the fighter disintegrated around her.

When she blinked above her was a darkened ceiling. Underneath she could feel a mattress on her back, sheets soaked in sweat. Confused she sat up. Unfamiliar furnishings surrounded her, but after a moment the events of the past week caught up to her. As her racing heart slowed back down, and her gasping breaths stopped. Her chest ached and she reached over to uncap a pill. As she swallowed the medication Tara looked at the window. The frame just barely lit by the moonlight. A nightmare she thought to herself, the room echoed with silence as her mind fought with itself. Finding a balance point she laid back on the bed to try and go back to sleep.

Outside the door a figure slowly crept away as the breathing in the room returned to an even pace.

It was on the 7th day that Clark proposed a suggestion. At first Tara hadn’t understood, but after some clarification things became clearer. Clark was proposing a camping trip for the three of them. Nothing too wild, in fact they would be traveling just a couple hours to the nearby lake just out of town. Technically Tara had no choice in the matter as a prisoner of war, but Clark insisted on getting her to agree to the matter. He explained a change in scenery and a chance to relax would be good for her.

The young boy, Zeke was quite excited. Even though they weren’t traveling far he eagerly rushed about the house throwing items into the truck. Tara found herself caught up in the boy’s enthusiasm, untangling the fishing line at a remarkable speed with her four arms. By noon they were driving down the road.

To give a bit of background about OJ-332. The star system is located some distance within the borders of Federation space, and quite a distance from the warp points in the region. Various spatial bodies nearby made it difficult for hyperspace travel. Because of these factors OJ-332 would historically be largely ignored by all the government and major corporations. LEaving the colonization of OJ-332 up to the venturous independent settlers to move into. Within OJ-223 itself the only habitable and populated planet is called Naranja by the local populace. Naranja is classified as a desert planet with just enough of an atmosphere and water content to be colonized by humans. With a caveat of the atmosphere being a little thinner than standard. Like living at high altitude, without the actual altitude. From space the yellow orange terrain is wrinkled by mountain ridges and valleys, and its most notable feature is a large crater in the north-west hemisphere. Indicative of a long ago impact by a significant massive object.

Geological studies of the planet had determined that the impact had wiped out a thriving primitive biosystem present on the planet. All of that organic matter had been subsequently transformed into prime farmland. Human settlers had capitalized on this fact, with the primary economy of the planet supported by its agricultural industry. The viable and weakened biosystem providing an ideal base for growing food. All of its exports are directed to the overflowing interior Sector systems. Despite its potential for productivity, most of the planet is undeveloped because of how remote the region is.

Spotted Eagle was the first settlement on the planet, and in order to ease the process of terraforming, had been located by the largest body of freshwater on the planet. Development of irrigation and other projects had drained the lake somewhat. A decrease which made it the third largest body of freshwater on the planet.

Their destination was this small unnamed lake, and they arrived sometime just before the sunset. It didn’t take them long to find a camping spot and set up their campsite. Clark told the two should explore the lake while he prepared food. Tara took a walk to a small pier jutting into the lake to rest while Zeke ran up and down the gravel beach. The lake was for lack of better words, modest. You simply don’t get magnificent lakes on a desert planet. “Then again a lake is just a body of water and all bodies of water are the same in appearance.” Zeke had said after Tara scoffed at the lake as a tiny pond. The lake was of a moderate size, surrounded by tree covered hills. The water was largely undisturbed, and clear to the bottom. Tara could watch fish swimming around the legs of the pier. Laying on her stomach she ran her hands in the water. The cold sensation soothing to the touch. It was incredibly pleasant.

Some time later Clark called them in for dinner and they sat around a campfire eating their meal. Zeke eagerly showed some colorful rocks he had picked off from the beach, while Tara focused on the crackle and pop of the campfire. After the meal Clark pulled out a few more bags of foodstuffs. The two of them demonstrated an old human tradition. Smores as they called it. A melted over sugary dessert that repulsed Tara. Though she still ate eight of the monstrosities. Using her two pairs of hands to rotate the sugar balls on their spits to get an even brown appearance. Afterwards the fire was doused and the two split up to rest in the two tents they had set up. From her tent Tara could hear the sound of the water nearby, and the chirp of insects. She wondered how she would sleep with all the noise.

The next morning Clark rose early. The sun was breaking the horizon. Surprisingly Tara was still asleep. Usually she would be up with the sun, doing her grooming. Clark let her rest. Moving to sit by the pier and look at the sun reflecting off the water as it slowly rose over the horizon. Blazing reds flashing off the waves, the light glimmering in a mesmerizing chaos. Absentmindedly Clark felt the old scars on his side. Old wounds from an old war. Though the pain had faded there were still something there. It was largely why he had left the interior for the frontier.

Behind him he heard the footsteps and turned to see Zeke had woken up. He held two fishing poles in his hands, a box of bait precariously balanced. Clark rose to help his son, the sun continuing to rise higher and higher.

Tara stumbled out of the narrow tent opening and blinked in the sudden light. She had overslept. Walking over to the cooler she grabbed one of the food bars they had brought along and scarfed it down. Looking for the others she saw them on the pier. She approached them and saw the two had fishing poles extended into the water. The father turned to greet her and hand her a pole. She handed it back to him and explained she didn’t know how to use it. He quickly showed her how to use it, it wasn’t a complicated device. A spool of line, and a handle. He baited the hook for her with a native worm, and then cast it into the water. She took the pole and sat on the pier. Dangling her feet into the water.

After a long while, the sun having noticeably changed position in the sky, Tara spoke up. “I don’t think this is working”

Clark reeled back in his line, examined the worm which was still intact on the hook and cast his line back into the water. “It’s called fishing not catching.”

Zeke groaned.

After some time the three of them had managed to catch 4 fish. Zeke and Tara had each caught two. Clark went about showing Zeke how to prepare one of the fishes, and then Tara took an opportunity to show how her people prepared fish. Sticking the fish on sticks they roasted them over a fire. Some tubers were wrapped in foil and placed in the fire to cook as well. The savory smell was even more gratifying when the three of them thought of the struggle it had been catching them. As they ate Clark perked his head up, hearing something on the wind. Following his eyes Tara saw a vehicle approaching the campsite. Clark rose as the vehicle pulled up to them. For a moment he conversed with the driver. Then he gestured for Tara to come join them.

“Tara there is news about the war.”

“The war?” Tara had almost forgotten.

“Yes, the Ents and Zygaroons are currently in negotiations for a peace treaty. We have a shuttle to take you home. You can go home.”

For some reason Tara hesitated. Here was the opportunity to return home, and she was hesitating. The moment stretched with an undisturbed silence begging to be broken. Tara’s hands fluttered by her sides as she struggled with her indecisiveness. Clark held up his wrist to his face even though there was nothing there.

“You know Tara I had planned to a vacation for three people for three days. That’s a lot of food that would otherwise be wasted.”

He glanced above his wrist to look her in the eye.

“If you wanted to stick around a few more days I’m sure the embassy gentleman wouldn’t mind.”

After a moment Tara found her voice.

“I’m going to need a moment.”

She turned and walked away from them, heading back to the pier where Zeke was skipping stones into the water. Clark turned to the man who seemed perplexed by the alien behavior.

“It won’t be a problem if she decides to stay right?”

“No sir, this is our only assigned task. There is another team going to handle the mediation.”

“I’m not a sir anymore.” Clark chided gently.

“Of course… sir.” The man said, muttering the last word despite himself.

Clark turned to look at Tara who was sat in a meditative pose behind Zeke.

“I think she needs this.”

“Sir?”

“I said to stop calling me sir, my name is Clark.”

“...sorry.”

Fin

#hfy #writing #story

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brightstarblogs · 7 years ago

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South Park: Tweek’s Sick Day (Creek and Craig’s gang + Bebe) Fanfiction

I came up with this fic idea as I am sick at the minute. The idea’s just started coming to me and I had to write it down! Anyway I hope you enjoy it ^_^

Tweek was sitting in his bed room, his nose had been running all day and he had the worst headache. It was Saturday morning and he had plans with Craig, Clyde, Token, Jimmy and Bebe but he was in no fit state to go to Whistling Willy’s today. He pulled out his phone and scrolled until he found the current group chat he and his friends were using, he knew immediately as Clyde had named the chat, ‘I would sell my soul for a taco.’ He started typing.

Tw: Hey guys, I’m sick so I can’t meet you today.

Be: Are you okay honey cakes?

Cl: Dude, Noooo. It’s not the same without you :(

To: That sucks, wrap up warm, don’t stress your self

Ji: :(

Cr: Are your parents looking after you?

Tw: guys, it’s just a cold, probably the same one Clyde had. (Bebe please stop calling me that) Token I am and I am wearing a thick jumper to make sure. Craig, my parents are currently working so I’m home alone.

Cl: right, all those in favour of taking care of Tweek say aye!

Be: I’m in!

Cr: I’m his boyfriend, it’s my job.

Ji: (thumbs up)

To: Guess it’s unanimous.

Tw: Guys I’m fine, I can take care of myself.

Cl: The majority has spoken Tweek! We’ll be there in 15! Don’t worry about greeting us, Craig has his spare key.

Tweek gave up and locked his phone. He sat up in his bed and ate one more menthol sweet to try and make himself feel a little bit better. “I know they’re worried but I don’t want to get them sick. They’ll miss school and then they’re grades will drop and then they’ll be expelled! I can’t handle that kind of pressure!” He then heard the front door open and Clyde yelling. “We’re here Dude!” This was followed by Craig and Bebe scolding him. He clearly heard Craig say “He’s sick, don’t yell.” And Bebe say “He probably has a headache the poor dear.”

Tweek heard them come up the stairs and saw Token slowly open the door. “Hey Tweek, are you okay?” Tweek looked at them. “I feel Gah really ill guys, my nose won’t stop running and I have the worst headache, I wouldn’t get any closer. I don’t want to infect you guys.” Token smiled and then turned round to the group. “Right, me and Jimmy will be making soup for Tweek. Craig, Bebe, You will focus on buying more tissues and medicine, here’s some money for that. Clyde as you had a cold last week you will stay in here and look after him, you are the only one who can do this as you can’t catch this illness again.” Tweek frowned a little. “You guys really don’t have to do this.” Token then pointed at Tweek. “And your job will be to accept our help and get better. We’re your friends and it’s our job to take care of each other when our parents won’t. Okay everyone, let’s get too it.”

Craig pulled a sad face that he wouldn’t get to stay by his boyfriend’s side, but he knew he could help with the job Token had given him. He smiled up at Tweek. “Don’t worry babe, me and Bebe will go get the supplies for you.” He then turned to Clyde. “You better control your volume and look after Tweek to the best of your ability, no funny business or I will punch you.” Clyde put his arms up in defence. “Dude, if it’s the same cold I had I promise I won’t, that cold was horrible. The headache was the worst.” Clyde then put his hands on Craig’s shoulders. “He’s my friend Craig, I promise I’ll take care of him.” A small smile was on Craig’s face but it promptly disappeared the minute Jimmy said “G-g-g-get a r-room you two.” Craig flipped him off. “F$*k off Jimmy, I’m dating Tweek.”

Clyde then closed the door and turned to Tweek. “Right, I am in charge Tweek, and I’m going to make sure you get better.” Clyde then grabbed one of Tweeks tissues and went into his bathroom. He came back with the cloth now damp and carefully put it on Tweek’s forehead. “This should help with the temperature.” Tweek smiled at the cooling sensation. “Thank you Clyde.” Clyde smiled. “No problem. Right now, I have lip balm to put on your nose so it doesn’t get to dry and damaged. Oh and I have menthol rub to help as well.” Tweek grabbed the menthol rub and put it on his chest. Clyde then grabbed a tissue and wiped the excess of his hands. Tweek looked confused. “What did you do that for Clyde?” Clyde smiled uncomfortably. “Last time I put some on I forgot to remove the excess from my hands and then I went to the toilet… Let’s just say this menthol stuff can hurt delicate areas if you forget it’s on your hands.” Tweek’s eyes widened “AHHH Are you okay!?” Clyde laughed. “I’m fine, it was just a bit of a shock.” Tweek then laughed. “You can be such an idiot sometimes.” Clyde then covered his chest and put on a silly voice. “Oh Tweek, how could you be so cruel to your personal nurse.”

Clyde then reacted into his bag and pulled out a bag of chips. “I guess I’ll just have to eat these by myself.” Tweek then panicked a little. “I’m sorry. Please Nugh don’t be mean to me.” Clyde grinned. “Okay, you get a bag when you’ve eaten all of Token’s soup. Salty chips are good for when you’re ill after all.” They then heard Token and Jimmy come up the stairs. “Speak of the devil.”

Meanwhile, whilst Clyde was helping Tweek, Token was looking through Tweek’s cabinets for ingredients for soup. Luckily for him Jimmy found potatoes, leeks and onions. “W-w-wow, Tweek’s p-parents really don’t h-h-have many cooking supplies.” Token sighed. “They give him far too much coffee that he doesn’t eat much, so they don’t stock up on food much.” Token found a chopping board and started cutting the vegetables. “Jimmy if you could get broth ready and heat up the water while I chop these up?” Jimmy smiled widely. “S-s-sure thing.”

Token was a wiz a preparing food so in no time at all, all the vegetables were in the broth and Token was adding a little cream to make it tasty. He then started to blend all the ingredients with a handheld blender. In no time at all the food was ready. “W-w-wow Token. How d-did you get so good at t-that?” Token smiled. “I cook at home all the time, and Nicole often needs a hand in baking sometimes so picked up a few skills. Right let’s take this up to Tweek.” Him and Jimmy then started heading up the stairs.

At the same time as Token and Jimmy were making the soup, Craig and Bebe were running out the door and running to the pharmacy. Craig turned to Bebe. “You got the money right?” Bebe lifted her hand up. “Yep, let’s get the supplies and hurry back.” “Good call.” The two turned the corner and saw the pharmacy. Bebe turned to Craig. “I get the tissues with extra balm and more cough candies, you get the medicine.” Craig nodded at her. The minute they were in the door they split up and grabbed what they needed.

In the space of a couple of minutes both of them were out of the pharmacy and running back towards Tweek’s house. Craig turned to Bebe. “What flavour cough candies you get.” “Coffee, don’t worry they don’t have caffeine, I just know he’d like the flavour.” Craig nodded. They managed to get back to Tweek’s in a few minutes. When they opened the door Token and Jimmy were at the top of the stairs, the soup was already done.

Clyde opened the door and Jimmy and Token entered the room. They all heard running up the stairs and quickly stood out of the way as Craig and Bebe entered the room, tripping over the carpet as they did, resulting in them both face planting into the floor. They both lifted up the supplies they had. Craig spoke, his voice muffled by the carpet. “We got the supplies to help you honey.” Tweek couldn’t hold it in any more. “BWHAHAHAHA!!! God you guys didn’t have to half kill yourself for me, it’s just a little cold. Thank you all for doing this but you really didn’t have to go to all this trouble.” Token then passed the soup to Clyde and picked up Craig and Bebe before saying. “Don’t worry Tweek. We wanted to do this. What’s the point in all hanging out together if one of us is missing.” Tweek then started crying. “Damn it, this cold is making me extra emotional.” Clyde grabbed the new tissues from Bebe and passed one to Tweek.

“Right everyone out, Tweek is still sick and I don’t want anyone else catching it. Call me if you need anything.” Clyde instructed. They all exited except Craig who walked over to Tweek, put his hand on Tweek’s forehead and kissed his own hand. Tweek smiled. “Craig you’ll get sick.” Craig smirked. “I kissed my own hand, I won’t catch anything. I’ll wash my hand though just to make you happy.” Clyde leaned over. “Out Tucker.” Craig flipped him off and exited the room. Clyde shut the door. “Right Tweek here’s the soup and medicine. Eat the soup and then take the medicine and try to get some sleep.” Tweek took a sip of the soup, the taste was creamy and the vegetables complemented each other. It warmed him to the core. “Wow this is really good! Token is brilliant at cooking!” He then took the medicine and started to settle down. Clyde smiled at him, took the empty soup pot and headed downstairs back to the others.

“How’s he doing?” Craig asked. Clyde gave him a thumbs up. “Out like a light. He should be okay now, if he rests like this for the next couple of days he should be back to normal in no time.” Token smiled. “I didn’t know you were so skilled at looking after sick people Clyde, how’d you get so good?” Clyde smiled sadly. “I have to look after my dad when he’s sick as I’m the only one around for him now. I’ve picked up a few skills from that. But hey, I couldn’t have done it without you guys. Right who wants to help with the washing up?” Token took the pot off him. “You are not doing that, every time you try you overfill the sink with soup suds, leave it to me.” Clyde laughed. “The bubbles are really fun though.” Jimmy then realised Craig was missing. “W-where did Craig go?” Bebe informed him. “He went upstairs to check on Tweek.” Clyde’s eye’s widened and he darted round. “That idiot is going to get sick.”

Clyde ran back up the stairs and carefully opened Tweeks door. Craig was hunched over the bottom of Tweek’s bed asleep. He was wearing his gloves and was holding Tweek’s hand. Clyde smiled and carefully shut the door. “Craig really does love him. I’ll let this one go…. but if he’s sick next I’m not taking care of him.” Clyde sighed to himself and slowly walked back down to join the others.

(I hope you guys liked this fic. I had a lot of fun typing it but typing on my phone took forever! I really tried to use American slang in this one as sometimes my fics come across as a bit British. As usual please let me know about spelling mistakes.)

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mcueveryday · 7 years ago

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Visiting Hours (Claire Temple x OC)

Title: Visiting Hours

Pairing: Claire Temple x omc (named)

Word Count: 5,029

Summary: Claire finds the stresses of her night shift doubled when a former patient - and one-time fling – returns to her floor. Then again, maybe she wouldn't mind breaking the rules for him one more time…

Warnings. Smut. Pure and delicious smut.

Claire Temple closed her eyes and gently massaged the middle of her brow as she leaned on the counter of the nurse’s station, pen stopped over a stream of checklists strapped under her clipboard. Today was definitely a “full moon night” out here, regardless of the actual lunar phase outside. She’d already been cussed by two patients (the second, she verbally fought back against before Jodie came and brought her out of the room to cool off), and there was one down in 53 who kept complaining loudly that he wasn’t getting enough pain meds. She’d already been lenient. Any more, and he’d probably wind up high as a kite, but dead as a doornail.

Despite the intensity of some of these cases, the workload was a little more lax than she was accustomed to. It made her miss the adrenaline of working in the emergency unit back in Hell’s Kitchen. The flurry of personnel. The machines going off. The physical rush you were thrust into. It seemed wrong to think, but she had to admit, got a thrill out of the excitement and the challenge of having to save some life that comes crawling to your doorstep, battered and broken or shot up and bloodied.

Another paper dropped onto her clipboard, covering what she’d been staring at for what seemed like an hour. A nurse she didn’t work with typically popped her gum, looking at her through square glasses held on a thin, beaded chain. “Wilkins. Room 40. Heard you’re good with the weirdos, so he’s yours.” The mystery nurse walked off without another word. Claire held her hand up in silent protest, looking around at the few other nurses at their individual stations who didn’t even glance her way, poring over their own charts and laptops. She eyed the backside of that woman and gave a scoff before flipping the paper over in a huff. “Bitch,” she muttered under her breath.

Claire dragged her clipboard off the countertop, glancing at her watch. Nine point two five more hours to go in her twelve-hour shift. She sighed. She needed coffee. Or a nap. Hell, a week off while she was still wishing for things. This gig sucked the soul out of you as much as it drained your energy. Down another couple hundred feet, the elevator on the left side pinged open, and a young man stepped out. She slowed her stride to a stop.

Liam, she thought. He had only been her patient for a few days, but she hadn’t considered that he’d show up again. Or have the audacity to. This guy, his visit… was a mistake. She did not need this right now.

His head turned, and the moment he spotted her, that smirk came up. That warm, fucking smirk. She began walking again. It was too late to double back for something, and she had to meet this Wilkins person a.s.a.p before making her rounds again in time.

He turned and began walking her way. Damn it, she thought. She tried picking up her pace to look busier, keeping her clipboard close to the side of her chest. Maybe he would take notice and just leave her alone.

He held up a hand to wave as she approached. “Hey, Cl—“

“Hello, sir, can I help you?” Claire said automatically in one breath, putting on her professional face as best as she could muster, never breaking stride.

Liam seemed taken back. “…Yeah. Yeah, it’s me. Liam? Rothwell? I was here last week –“

Claire cut him off again. “Yes. I know. Can I help you?” she asked, her voice a little lower, yet still remaining firm. She had passed by him, and was now walking backwards while continuing her route, waiting for a response. After his moment of silence, she lifted her hands up from her sides, gesturing for him to say something – maybe daring him to.

He blinked in confusion. “I, uh, wanted to… I just wanted to come by and see… How are yah?”

Now was Claire’s turn to blink, shifting her head back. Really?, she thought. How are you? She scoffed, a smile of incredulity on her face as she turned toward her intended direction. “Great. Thanks,” she said flatly, waving him away with her free hand.

His footsteps could be heard behind her. “I mean…” he said at first, but then lowered his voice. “I wanted to come see how you were doing. And, you know, let you know I’m doing alright.”

She arrived at room 40, and put her hand on the door handle. “Very thoughtful,” she smiled at him without a hint of sincerity. “But I have patients to see.” She turned the handle, and started to head in.

“I can wait.” Liam offered.

Claire paused in the middle of the open doorway, then turned with her head cocked at him, sizing him up. “I’ve still got a long shift ahead of me.”

He put his hands in the pockets of his jacket and shrugged. That smirk again. “I don’t mind. You’re worth it.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes, but settled for closing them emphatically and sighing. She pulled the door closed, still grasping the handle. “Why are you really here?”

Liam’s brow furrowed curiously at her. “I thought maybe we could, you know—“

She cut him off again. “Don’t,” she said tersely, holding up her clipboard hand to point a finger at him. Her voice became even lower as she leaned her head in. “I swear, if you’re looking for some… ‘assistance’ again…”

The smile on his face shifted to one of someone trying to hide the most delicious secret, as he looked above her and then down the hallway from where she came. “That wasn’t entirely the reason why I stopped by. But I certainly wouldn’t mind.” He leaned in a little closer. “And from what I remember, you didn’t seem to, either.”

Claire pursed her lips. She could feel her cheeks turning a shade of pink now. “That was a one-time thing.” Her hand turned the door handle. “I have work to do,” she said flatly, heading inside.

The door closed, and she took a deep breath in. This is not how she’d expected her evening to go. From the moment he stepped out of the elevator, images flashed into her mind from the previous week. The flirting. The hands lingering longer than they should have (sometimes hers, sometimes his). That fucking smirk under his dirty blond hair. Turning his bedsheet down. Locking the door before taking out his--

She sighed, shaking her head. It was a slow night then. Just like the one tonight. She came over to the curtain pulled around the only hospital bed. “Knock, knock. Mister Wilkins?” She drew it open to see an elderly man lying there, his open mouth closing as he seemed to be waking up.

“Huh? What time is it?” he glanced at her, eyes wandering up and down while he blinked back sleep.

Claire turned her wrist over. “Almost 10 p.m. My name is Claire, and I’m your nurse for tonight. I just want to go over a couple of things quickly, and then I can let you get back to your beauty rest.”

He closed his eyes tight, as if trying to think intensely. “You’re… you’re not Paula. I thought Paula was my nurse.”

She held the top of her clipboard, propping the bottom against her waist. “Yeah, maybe earlier. But we rotate every 12 hours. She’ll probably be with you in the morning.”

The man raised his arm, IV embedded and running, and gestured outward. “But… I just saw her not that long ago. She refilled my bag and helped me out to the restroom.”

Claire frowned, glancing down at her sheet. “One second,” she said, before leaning over his bedside rail and looking at his wrist. She held his identification wristband to the light. The name read Santos, Roberto. Claire put down his wrist, placing her hand on top of his. “Mister Santos, I am so sorry to disturb you. I was sent to the wrong room,” she said as cordially as possible.

“The hell did you get me up for then?,” Roberto asked, frustrated.

She stood upright, feeling her chest tighten. “I apologize. I’ll make sure you’re seen by the right folks.” With that, she turned to leave.

Liam nearly jumped with how fast the door flew open. Claire looked livid as she strode quickly back toward the nurse’s station. “Hey. Hey, everything alright?” he asked in earnest.

“Not now,” she barked back. He slowed his pace, but still followed her. The moment she got back to the station, she glanced at each of the work desks and cubicles, before zeroing in on the bitch from earlier. Claire shoved her clipboard, with Wilkins paper on it, directly below this nurse’s typing hands. “Wilkins? You said he was in 40.”

The nurse just looked up at her with a raised eyebrow before using a single finger to push the clipboard out of the way of her keyboard. “I clearly said room 48, darlin’.” She popped her gum again.

Claire felt her jaw clench tightly. “Really.” She unclipped the top sheet, slamming it down on the desk. “You do your own fucking job, and stop passing it off to me because you’re incompetent.” Her sneakers squeaked on the tile as she turned on her heel abruptly, heading out of the station. The few other nurses around looked at her in their usual silence, some with their mouths barely agape.

Once out of there, she paused when she saw Liam again, standing nearby where the hallways connected. Sure, he had no idea what kind of stress she endured, but for the faintest reason, he seemed like the only moment of calm compared to anyone else here. He looked up with his blue eyes before gesturing with a thumb behind him. “I can wait, or leave, if you’d like,” he said.

She tongued the inside of her cheek. “You in any pain still?”

“What?”

“Pain. From what you had last week.” She looked back where she came and then tilted her head, motioning him to follow as she walked toward the elevators.

Liam walked next to her, running his hand along the backside of his neck. “Maybe a little, but it’s not so bad right now.”

“Good, glad to hear, sir,” she said, professional voice back on as they passed by two doctors going the opposite direction. “However, I would highly recommend that you visit our reserves section if you would like help keeping that up.” As they arrived at the elevators, she reached over to a hanging magazine rack, pulling out a complimentary hospital map that was offered to visitors. She held up her clipboard, clicking a pen as she drew a route. “It’s the second floor. Pass oncology, x-rays, make a left here. The door is the third on the right. Don’t wait outside, but I’m sure if you’re there at 10:45…”

She looked up directly into his eyes intently, lowering her voice so only he could hear. “Someone will be there promptly to assist you again.”

Liam blinked, tilting his head the way a dog does when it seems confused. Both of his eyebrows soon raised as Claire watched the lights come on in his head. He nodded slowly, mouth unable to say anything at first as it slowly pulled into a smile. “Reserves. Got it. You sure you—someone will be there then?”

She held up the map for him to take, shrugging. “Guess you’ll have to find out. No one’s there usually, but I’m sure the odds look better.”

He took the map, giving a single, quiet chuckle as his own face flushed a bit. “I’ll, um… Thanks for your help.”

Claire hit the elevator button for him. ��Bye,” she said, widening her eyes as he took that as his cue to get in. She watched the doors slide shut before she herself went back down the hall, inhaling deeply again. This time, her exhale came out with a small shiver as she smiled coyly to herself.

Claire’s back slammed against the standing cabinet behind her, her long legs locked around Liam’s waist as their mouths sought each other. She pulled from the taste of his lips for a moment, putting a finger on them. “Shh-shh, quietly,” she said firmly, breath a little shaky.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, pushing his face past her finger, kissing her full lips as he held her up by the thighs. For one so lean, he still had some strength to him, Claire thought. His mouth traveled along her cheek and down the side of her neck, her body giving in as she craned to feel more of that. Her arms held him, feeling the firmness in his jeans against the crotch of her scrubs as he humped into her.

She needed this. Hell, she wanted this.

Claire opened her eyes slowly, feeling her body yearning for more of his. “Mmm, seems like you might’ve missed me a little.”

“Oh yeah.”

She released one leg to try setting it down on the floor. They’d moved themselves to one of the back aisles of the reserves. Someplace where they wouldn’t be seen. Probably.

Liam backed up, guiding her onto her feet again. His eyes lowered when he felt both of her hands furtively working on his belt. The buckle clinked open. He took the opportunity to shuffle his jacket off, tossing it to the floor. Claire gripped his zipper and yanked it down, putting one hand on his chest as she used her other hand to reach in, pulling out his length still encased in steel-gray boxers. She slid her palm slowly, teasingly up the underside of him. “You want me to help take care of this again?” she smiled up at him, relishing in the sexual anguish he seemed to feel as he pulsed against her hand.

He brought their foreheads together, running his hand along her cheek until it came to the back of her head. Curling his fingers, he grabbed a fistful of her hair. His voice deepened as he spoke. “I want you to take the whole thing.”

She bit her lower lip in mid-giggle. “You gonna make me?”

“Maybe,” he growled with a smile. She smirked back, her hands tugging the bottom of his shirt up impatiently. He raised his arms to oblige. Once off, her hands ran along his freshly-bared torso, gliding along his lean musculature. Claire leaned forward, kissing the center of his chest, his stomach. His abs. Just below his navel. Liam’s hand rested on her shoulder, pushing down firmly but patiently as he felt those lips leave wet traces down the front of his body.

Claire arrived at a squat, balancing on the balls of her feet as she came face to face with his undone jeans. Her fingers snaked into the waistbands of both boxers and pants as she brought her face against the underside of his wrapped member. She sighed against it, letting her hot breath caress it as her eyes closed, savoring where she was right now. Moving her head, she ran it along the sides of her face while she still gripped his waistband, feeling how thick it was, how much it strained against the thin fabric of those boxers…

Her fingers hooked tight into his waistband and pulled down sharply, giving two firm tugs that brought jeans and boxers to Liam’s knees. His cock sprang right up, bobbing into place as it pointed directly at her face. Her mouth opened slightly, breathing in as she took in the sight. “Geezus, Liam…” Her hand came up under him, fitting the base of him in the notch between her thumb and forefinger as she felt the weight of his manhood. “I’ll say it again, you’ve got a good size to this thing,” she stared up at him as her fingers wrapped around his cock and slowly tugged it in her direction.

“Thanks,” he smiled from above. His hand moved from her shoulder, running through the hair on the side of her head while he watched her grip tighten, pulling his hard cock towards her. He didn’t even have to press on the back of her head before she was already leaning in, her lips parting as she took his plump mushroom head into her mouth. He felt wet warmth engulf his tip, and he sighed deeply, his hand instinctively wrapping up in her hair in reaction.

Claire felt him shudder in her mouth, her eyes closed as her nose inhaled his musky, masculine scent. The taste of his meat turned her on, and she could already feel herself becoming wet for him. Still balanced on her feet, she pushed her lips forward, slipping more of him into her mouth, lips running past the edge of his cockhead and taking in his shaft. Her mouth paused halfway, then clamped those lips along his shaft as she began to pull back, deliberately dragging her lips to squeeze his member as she reached the tip, popping off audibly. “Ahh!”

“Fuck, Claire. Keep doing that. That felt so good.” Liam sighed above. She smiled before closing her eyes again, letting the cockhead push her lips apart as she sucked him off, both of her hands now holding his bare hips. Claire twisted her head, making her mouth writhe on his shaft as she ran her tongue along the underside. Her moans buzzed the length, and they mixed with his own groans of pleasure. She got about halfway again before she felt his hand grip the backside of her head, pushing her to go further. Claire resisted at first, but then craned her head forward as she tried pulling Liam’s hips toward her.

She was nearly an inch from the base before she sputtered, feeling his cockhead tap the back of her throat and attempting to go down. She pushed back with her hands, and Liam released her. His cock slid out from her mouth, leaving her gasping lightly. Saliva trailed from her lower lip as she caught it with two fingers, wiping it on the side of her scrub pants. Liam stepped forward, already nudging his glistening cock into her face. The back of her head came against the cabinet doors, Liam already pushing himself into her mouth. She soon welcomed him, straightening her back to be flush with the doors, holding his legs.

Liam’s hands held the sides of her head, snaking into her hair again. “That’s it, Claire… Take it all,” he smirked above. She opened her eyes slowly, looking into his as best as she could while her mouth was being stuffed with his girth. He began pumping into her open mouth, her head staying motionless as he humped into her. “Ohh, that’s so good. You gonna take it all in?”

Her eyes never wavered as her throat uttered the affirmative, sending buzzing vibrations along his cock working in and out of her mouth. Do it, she challenged him in her mind.

Pinning her head against the doors, Liam pushed forward, and Claire could feel her tongue pressed flat while his thickness pushed into her throat. Her eyes closed, fighting back her gag reflex, her hands becoming fists on his sides. Her nose tapped his lower waist as she felt the base against her pursed lips – he was all in!

Liam held her there for a good moment, letting his length throb in her slippery mouth. “Ohh, Claire. Your mouth is so good.” She felt his eagerness trying to push in more, but her head was against the cabinet, his balls draped along her chin. Her throat spasmed, and she coughed, her fist giving the signal against his bare side to tap out. Claire felt Liam’s hands let go of her as he stepped back, her head hanging down as she coughed, bringing a hand to her throat the moment his length slid back out entirely.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she sighed, her back against the cabinet. “Trying to choke me with that thing?”

He shrugged above her, holding his base and keeping it hard. “Sorry,” he said apologetically.

She waved him off, blinking back a few tears from the effort. “It’s all good. I’m just not accustomed to, you know, taking that much in my mouth entirely. Don’t wanna ruin the make-up, either.”

“Well. You just took seven, so… That’s gotta be pretty good, right?”

Claire raised her eyebrows, a little impressed. “Oh! Wow. Must be a bigger slut than I thought,” she said before smiling. She kinda liked the sight of him gently stroking up there, half-naked.

Her mind whispered something that made her look down at her watch. “Okay, I hate to say this, but we gotta wrap things up. Eventually, they’ll start asking where I went, and I don’t want to have to answer that.”

“What, so soon?” He actually looked a little hurt.

“Yes,” Claire said squarely, standing up on her feet, giving her legs a stretch. “I’m the one on the clock here, remember?”

Liam was still lightly stroking his member that was slick with her spit. He bit both his lips as he looked down the aisle where they came from earlier. “Five minutes. Just five.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Five? You sure that’s all you need?”

He looked at her with dead certainty as he nodded. His eyes still held an animal lust to them that was not quenched just yet. She sighed from her nostrils, hands on her hips. “Alright, stud. You got your five. What do you – oh!”

Liam rushed forward, grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around, catching her by surprise as her hands felt the cold steel of the cabinet. She was feeling herself tense up. When he was a patient, she’d only given him head and jerked him to completion. This would be a step beyond.

This. This was the sort of rush she missed.

His hands began tugging down on her scrub bottoms, stopping short suddenly. Claire reached back, guiding one of his eager hands to come to her waist front, letting them find the ties. Surprisingly, he undid the tie in one swift motion, shifting his hand back as he pulled her pants down, exposing her curvy rump to the open, packaged in black simple panties. She held onto the sides of the cabinet, glancing over her shoulder as she felt Liam’s hands grope her, squeezing each cheek as he showed obvious delight. She could hear him utter a low, elongated “Damn!” as he wobbled and massaged her rump.

A sharp, sudden smack there made her jump. “Oh! Geezus, warn a girl next time—ahh!” She was spanked a second time, leaving her mouth fixed open, yet definitely turning up into a smile. “You… bastard,” she purred.

Liam was suddenly next to her ear, his chest along her back and his hands on her hips. “You like that?,” he said, his thumbs toying with the waistband of her panties. One hand followed it around toward the front, dipping down along the fabric to come between her legs. His middle finger slid along her opening, and she shuddered.

“Oh…. Oh, come on, don’t leave me hanging.” Her legs threatened to melt from under her as he rubbed her clit.

“Mm, I won’t. Just seeing how wet you were.” His finger traced along her, and she could hear the wet noises coming from down below. She shivered again, but his arm came up across her front, holding her against him as he held her shoulder. His forearm came between her breasts through her scrub top as he continued playing with her.

“Please,” she said softly, the side of her forehead against the cabinet, feeling herself becoming unbearably aroused.

His arms moved again. Those strong hands found her panties, shoving them down to the middle of her thighs. She held the cabinet sides and felt a certain thickness come between her legs. Searching. Humping. Liam’s hand came under her ass as he gripped the base of his cock, pointing it up. The head of it brushed against her pussy lips, and she quivered in her breath.

He held her waist, pulling her back as he pushed the head up. The moment she accepted it, Liam sighed, bringing his other hand to her waist.

Reluctantly, tense from the anticipation, he pushed his bare cock slowly into Claire. Pushing. Entering her. Her mouth opened in a silent “O” of pleasure as she felt herself stretching for him. His crotch came along her bare backside as he nestled his girth deep inside her. He grunted, his own breath shuddering as he pulled his hips back, letting every inch back up out of her idly.

“That’s good. Keep going. Keep going, please,” Claire uttered.

Liam ran one hand up her spine, coming under her scrub top to feel the smooth skin of her back. He pushed forward, his cock exploring into her again as she moaned. He couldn’t bear this. He began to pick up the pace – her breathy moans mixing with the sound of his body colliding with hers.

Claire’s hands felt like they could dig right into the metal she was holding. She hadn’t felt this good in so long. Placing her palms against the doors, she started pushing herself back into him, wanting to take more of him. She felt Liam stagger a moment and she grinned. “Keep up, tiger,” she teased, pushing herself against his body as she felt his member open her up again, and again, and again.

A hand twisted in her hair, and her head yanked back. Liam spoke next to her face. “Only if you can take it,” he said huskily, before biting her ear. His cock began jackhammering into her, making her pant faster as he pounded her passionately. His waist slapped her ass repeatedly as he fucked her against the cabinet, making her moans go higher in pitch.

After one last good thrust, she twisted her body. “Okay. Okay, hold up,” she said, shifting so his cock slipped out of her. She turned around, trying to catch her breath. “On the… on the ground,” she panted, fixing a bit of her black hair.

Liam took a step back, lowering to the floor as he watched her for guidance. She kicked her shoes off urgently, slipping her bottoms off entirely before walking over him, straddling on either side. As she squatted, she placed her hands on his bare shoulders, pushing him to lay flat. His skin felt the cold tile as he gripped his member, pointing it upright as she looked toward it, easing down.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she nestled atop him, letting out one solid moan as she guided his thick cock deep inside her velvety warmth. She smiled, humming to herself – she enjoyed being embedded this way. Liam’s head laid back on the floor, his hands massaging up her bare thighs as his cock ached inside her. Those hands found their way to the bottom of her shirt, and he started to lift up. She scoffed with a smile, “Alright, alright, if you insist.”

She pulled her scrub top up and over her head, revealing a deep red bra that held her breasts in tight. Still gently riding atop him, she reached back, watching his ravenous eyes as she unhooked her bra, letting it fall forward as she took her last article of clothing off.

If she was gonna get fired, she thought, she better make it damn well worth it.

Liam brought his head up, his hands and his mouth falling up her breasts within seconds. She hissed in pleasure as she kept slowly riding his cock, one hand on his shoulder, the other wrapping around his head to hold to her bosom. It was his turn to moan now, as she moved faster, bobbing up and down on his lap as she kept taking all of him over and over. He let go and laid flat again on the floor, holding her thighs, eyes watching her as she gave him a smug look.

Breasts flopping in the open, Claire grunted and placed both of her hands on his bare chest, keeping him down. Biting her lower lip, she stared directly into his eyes as she rode him, bouncing quickly as she panted. She could feel his body squirming while she fucked him back.

His eyes closing, he muttered “That’s it. Yes, that’s it. That’s it. That’s it.”

“Yeah? You gonna cum again, baby?,” she purred again, moving her hand to her clit as she pleasured herself. His own hips were thrusting up into her now, and she moaned. He was so deep in her, pushing her wet walls apart while she rubbed her clit. “Cum with me. Cum with me.”

“Yes…” he groaned. His cock tingled now, feeling the imminent surge of electricity coming. He dug his fingers into her hips and pumped rapidly into her as her mouth opened wide.

“Ahh! Oh, shit!,” she cried. “Yes, yes, keep going!”

He bit both of his lips again, thrusting himself into her before moaning “Oh, fuck. I’m cumming. I’m cumming!”

Claire immediately hopped off, sitting on her thighs as she continued toying her clit, her other hand gripping Liam’s slickened penis as she stroked him quickly. “Come on. Come on, babe. Come on – ahh!”

Liam’s mouth opened, letting out a single syllable of ecstasy as he orgasmed. Claire’s hand jerked him, watching his seed fly onto his stomach and down her hand in thick, gooey ropes. “Mmm, yes, that’s it. Cum.,” she ordered, before she soon felt herself feel a wave of electric pleasure wash through her, making her thighs clench around his. “Ooh! Oh-ho, shit. Ohhhh…” she shuddered, almost violently, into her hand as she held his still-throbbing penis. The last few spurts of cum trickled down her fingers as they both sighed contentedly.

She flopped herself down onto his thighs, her face toward the ceiling. She chuckled. “I definitely needed that.”

#claire temple #claire temple fanfiction #Daredevil #luke cage #claire temple x oc #claire temple x reader #smut

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misanthropicmegara · 7 years ago

Text

Out of Cantrips: Mun writes a kids book

Or at least the first chapter!

@anthropolite

@blackskiesbeautifultimes

@atalantathebrave

Chapter 1:

Time had always seemed to move more slowly in the village of Ramsaydale. The sun had peeked down on the same cherry and slate rooftops for generations. Each little Tudor cottage and Victorian town home had stood the test of the ages, passed from father to son until a few had moved to low whitewashed shepherd’s cottages.

One small figure left the gated terrace on Ashgrove Street, carrying a basket and scooter. As she hopped down the stairs, Phoebe Sorrel hummed to herself. An autumn chill swept fallen leaves down Ashgrove and tickled the fringe of Phoebe’s auburn hair.

As Phoebe locked the gate behind herself, she checked that she had everything. A little pocket change clinked in her leather satchel, which she tucked her keys into. She hooked her basket’s handle over the handlebars of her scooter and started her early-morning errands.

Keeping to the sidewalk, Phoebe rode from Ashgrove down Avalon Boulevard, to where it intersected with Orcadian Drive. The Village Shop wasn’t open yet, so she passed it and followed Orcadian Drive to its end, where it branched into a dirt road.

The dark break in the tangle of forest outside Ramsaydale yawned waiting for Phoebe to pass through it.

“Cuthbert’s in there, I’ll be fine when I get in there…” she told herself. Still, after a moment standing in the breeze and letting it tousle her hair, she pulled out her phone.

The soft, rubbery case of her phone and the phone grip was comforting, and momentarily distracted her from the fact that she didn’t know what to expect beyond the first rank of trees.

She opened her text messages and found the last messages Cuthbert had sent her.

Cuthbert: P, come by tomorrow, it’s almost done.

Me: When? :D

Cuthbert: I don’t know, early. Got to help at the shop,

Me: What about 6? I have to help at my shop, too.

He’d said fine. Fine. So how wasn’t he already there waiting for her? Checking the time on her phone, she saw that she was fifteen minutes late.

What if something had happened to him?

Phoebe chewed her lip as she wavered where the pavement became a dirt hiking path. She could faintly see Cuthbert’s footprints, familiar for the distinctive personalized soles of his shoes. He’d insisted on taking a course in cobbling from the Cultural Centre, and making his own pair of leather shoes, and ever since, he could rarely be seen in store bought pairs.

He must be out there, but was he well? Ordinarily, he would meet her on the outskirts of the tree cover, and they would part ways before she ever had to go in.

She’d gone to the brook a few times, but never alone.

Where was Cuthbert?

Though she found herself fearful, Phoebe stood a little straighter. How could she call herself an adventurer or an explorer if she were too afraid to wander a little further out of her own village?

Phoebe dug the toe of her boot into the dirt, while the heel remained grounded on the pavement of Orcadian Drive.

“I’m supposed to look out for my friends,” she told herself, and her fingers traced the compass keychain hooked on her leather satchel.

As she was intently focused on the trees, Phoebe heard a chirping creak. A window hinge.

Her head whipped around, and her bun bobbed along with the flutter of her fringe.

The Ramsaydale Dragon, a large red plush doll with golden ram’s horns sewn on, peeked out the attic window of the Cultural Centre. If Phoebe weren’t used to the weak hinges on the window, or the strangely thoughtful look in its yellow glass eye, she might have been startled.

Instead, she blushed, and scooted a little further onto the dirt path. “What are you looking at?” she demanded of the silent plush. “I’m only waiting for Cuthbert to come out and meet me!”

The dragon’s head bobbed in the wind, and it seemed to be sarcastically agreeing with her. That glass eye, unblinking and all-seeing, appeared to be telling Phoebe that she was just making excuses for being afraid.

“Don’t be a know-it-all!” she protested. With that, she scooted a little further toward the tree line. “I’m coming, Cuthbert!” she called, and pushed off with one leg so she couldn’t help but rush that last bit toward the first of the trees.

Suddenly, she was in shadow.

Here, under the cover of the trees, the birds were quieter, and all she could hear was the distant babbling of the stream which hid itself within the forest.

“Cuthbert?” she called, less certainly than before.

Without the friendly gaze of the dragon to spur her on, Phoebe realized that she was quite alone.

She couldn’t quite remember where the treehouse Cuthbert sometimes spent his nights in was, but she could remember that it was near the stream.

Phoebe slowly scooted along, her eyes darting around madly for any sign either of Cuthbert, or that she was about to ride directly into a spider web.

Even the thought made her shiver, and she paused to zip up her bright red jacket before continuing.

“Cuthbert?” she called again, and when she heard her own voice, it was the sound of a scared little girl who needed Mam to switch on her night light.

That was definitely not the way she wanted Cuthbert to hear her! She was meant to be brave enough to spend time with him!

Of course, how was she meant to impress him when she wasn’t capable of finding him?

“C-Cuth—” she started again, but she was stopped by the sight of him straightening up from behind a bush.

“Shh!” he hissed, holding up one hand to halt her. “If you say my name one more time, you’ll scare it off!” Though he was whispering, there was enough change in his pitch that Phoebe knew how serious he was.

Phoebe faltered, and took several steps back with her hands gripping the scooter’s handlebars. “You… you said I could come out here to see you…” she said quietly.

Cuthbert tilted his head at her briefly, his sandy hair sweeping across his brow like a drawn curtain before he looked away. “It’s not… normal.”

“What isn’t?” Phoebe asked, drawing nearer.

Cuthbert raised a hand, showing a torn fishing net. “Something tore up my fishing net. Something with a terrible call… You shouldn’t be out here, Phoebe.” His voice was lower than she remembered, and it made her shiver inside. He sounded older, even though he was only a year older than her at thirteen.

It was a long moment before Phoebe could stop staring at his solid profile, like an illustration out of a book about Robin Hood or King Arthur, and notice his net.

“Ee!” she squealed, covering her mouth in horror. “Did you snag a wolverine?”

Cuthbert snorted through his nose, glancing sidelong at her. “Silly girl. This forest isn’t a good place for you… Come on.” He threw his net down, letting it drape across the bush. “We ought to get our business done so you can scoot back out of here.”

“Hey! I’m not—”

Cuthbert withered whatever she might have said with a skeptical rise of one brow, then gestured for her to follow his long strides deeper into the wood.

Phoebe bit back protests and followed him.

If he could clearly see how cowardly she was, there was no point in trying to pretend otherwise. She wasn’t all that good at it, anyway!

When they reached the foot of the tree with boards nailed on as a ladder, Phoebe’s heart sank.

This was always where Cuthbert would insist she stay on the forest floor, and leave her behind as he climbed into his treehouse.

She took the basket from the handlebars of the scooter and offered it to him. “I thought you might be hungry… So I brought you some of yesterday’s rolls. They’re in a different cloth from the decorations.”

“I don’t know how to put those on, you’ll have to come up with me,” Cuthbert said without turning around. It was then Phoebe realized that he was using the pulley system to bring down a wooden crate tied to a rope.

It was the same crate she’d helped load their starter kit into the past week, and suddenly she realized why he’d brought it down.

“You mean… you’re going to let me work up there with you?” she asked. “In your tree house?” her voice went a scale higher as she spoke.

“Are you about to make a big deal about it?” Cuthbert asked, sounding supremely uncomfortable with the idea. “Just… Put the basket in the crate, lean your scooter on the tree, and follow me up.”

“Aye,” she said, and loaded the basket carefully into the crate before Cuthbert began to crank it back up into place.

“Well, come on,” he said, and started to climb up the ladder.

Only when Phoebe had leaned her scooter against the side of the tree, and placed her hand on the first board did she realize that she’d never climbed a tree.

“What are you waiting for?” Cuthbert called down at her.

“I, um… I’m not sure…” she gripped the rung more tightly. “I should be fine, right?”

“I do good work,” he said. “Hurry up, I don’t like leaving you alone down there!”

Suddenly flattered, Phoebe gazed up at Cuthbert with a rush of excitement. “I’ll be right up with you!” she called, and careful not to rip her stockings, she pushed herself up to the next rung, and the one after that.

While she paid attention to her hand and footholds, Phoebe kept looking up to see Cuthbert watching her.

As long as she could see him, she realized, she wasn’t so afraid.

She hardly noticed how high she climbed while focusing on Cuthbert above her until he reached down to take her hand.

“The last bit is the worst,” he explained.

Phoebe hesitated only a moment while the butterflies in her stomach did a jig before she took his hand.

His hand felt rough, like cracked leather. She’d shaken hands with his father once, and it had felt just the same.

Cuthbert hauled her into his treehouse, leaving her to blink in surprise at how different their surroundings were.

There was a cot with a pair of blankets and a sleeping bag, as well as a knitted pillow which must have been from his mother. A cooler took up space in one corner, and along three walls was a counter.

“How do you keep it all so clean?” she asked in wonder.

“The windows close, and I sealed up the cracks between the boards…” Cuthbert said, before pulling the crate through a hatch in the side of the tree house.

“What’s this?” Phoebe asked while he was distracted, going right for what she thought might be their shared project.

It was smooth and angular, half as tall as Phoebe, herself, but under a cloth. She couldn’t help herself, she had to uncover it and see what he’d done!

“Hey, not yet!” Cuthbert protested, and he was on his feet in a flash, hatch shuttered and crate pulled in. He gripped Phoebe’s wrist firmly.

“But I’m up here to work on it with you!” she protested, and twitched her fingers. “Won’t you please let me see?”

Cuthbert shifted his jaw to one side and made a low growling noise in his throat. “Fine,” he said, and released her hand. Still, his cheeks had gone red all over again.

“I’m sure it’s amazing!” Phoebe told him with her widest grin, willing her eyes to sparkle.

Cuthbert took a step back. “I do good work,” he said, and gestured for her to uncover their project before putting his hands behind his back and pacing to the other end of the treehouse.

Before he could come back around and change his mind, Phoebe whipped the cloth off the project underneath.

When she saw what Cuthbert had made of the kit they’d gotten last month, her gasp and squeal fought to get out first.

“Do you hate it?” Cuthbert asked with strain in his question.

Phoebe looked to him, and found that his back was to her, and he was clamping his own hands together like angry links in a chain. “No!” she exclaimed, and ran to him, throwing her arms around him in a rare moment when she had the jump on him.

It was Cuthbert’s chance to gasp, and he staggered. “Hey, hey! I get it, get off!” he turned and was going to push her away when he paused. He’d grabbed her wrists, and now he was staring down at her with something like panic in his face.

Phoebe’s mouth dropped open to apologize, but she couldn’t decide what she was meant to apologize for. His eyes were so blue! She had nothing to say. In fact, the longer she gazed up at him, the more she wondered if she ought to tear down all her posters and replace them with photos of Cuthbert making just that face.

“I’m glad you like it. You’re the kind of person we’re making them for,” Cuthbert said, dropping Phoebe’s arms to her sides and striding past her. “We should be able to get lots of money for the project…” he said, voice muffled since he was facing away from her.

Phoebe tiptoed up behind him again, but this time when she got close enough, Cuthbert flinched. “And extra credit!” she pointed out.

He waved a hand. “And that, too.”

Phoebe couldn’t stop herself from dragging her fingertips along the side of the pixie house. “Is this a real log?”

“Of course, it’s a real log! Do I live in a forest or a toy factory?” Cuthbert asked, spreading his arms to gesture around the tree house.

“You live in the village…” Phoebe pointed out with her nose wrinkled. “I mean, you’re practically my neighbor.”

Cuthbert frowned. “Well, that’s not my house, it’s my father’s house.”

“I suppose that’s fair…” Phoebe said, though her chest clenched with the thought of Cuthbert thinking of himself as someone who didn’t live close to her.

“It is. Now, what did you bring?” Cuthbert began to unpack the crate, and the basket.

A bubbling horror took over Phoebe’s stomach, and she tripped closer. “I-I thought you might like…”

“Crepes,” Cuthbert said flatly, peering down at them. “I suppose this isn’t for the house, huh?”

“No…” Phoebe dug one boot toe into a knot in the wood. “I thought you might be hungry.”

“Why does it smell like flowers?”

“I… put flowers…”

“In my food?” Cuthbert asked.

“It’s fine! You can eat them!” She pulled a thermos out of the basket, and Cuthbert went crosseyed at the poppy design on it.

“What… what did you put in that?”

“Lavender tea,” Phoebe admitted. “It’s supposed to be calming… I thought you could… use it…”

Cuthbert blinked rapidly. He paused, then reached into the basket. “Uh… thanks.”

Phoebe coughed lightly. “It’s… stressful out here, working so much…”

“Sure,” Cuthbert put the thermos down on the counter and moved on to the basket’s other contents. “The rest of this doesn’t seem so bad.”

Phoebe’s lip trembled, and she gripped the edge of the counter. “I-I brought flowers… for the roof…” she lifted a bundle of wildflowers out, barely missing his hand. “I wondered if we could weave them in…”

“Between the roof slats?” Cuthbert asked, relaxing even without the calming lavender.

“Right!” She beamed, glad to see him no longer closed off to her. She pulled a little buttercup from the bundle and threaded it through the delicate bark roof tiles Cuthbert had nailed onto the roof portion of the standing log.

“Hm. Well, if you think girls will like that sort of thing,” Cuthbert shrugged. “You can leave them with me, and I’ll finish the rest. Do you see any sections for the specific rooms?” He pulled open the log to reveal that he had hollowed out several sections to look like rooms, and added plaster to strengthen them. The log, cut in half down the middle and with door hinges added to the side, had rooms on both sides of it.

“Ooh…” She saw the kit crate from the contest runners, with the crisply printed “F.A.E.” written on it. “I think…” she picked out one of the tiny bed frames, and placed it gently next to a small round window Cuthbert had carved out of the log. “I think this would be a sweet little bedroom!”

Cuthbert rummaged in the kit, and pulled out swatches of fabric. “Wallpaper?” he suggested, holding it up.

Phoebe hummed softly, invigorated by the chance to work together with Cuthbert without feeling he was looking down on her. “How about this?” She pointed to a peachy floral print, and Cuthbert took the matching ream of the fabric from the kit. “I’ll do that,” he promised, settling the fabric into the room Phoebe had chosen.

“Thanks!” She chirped, and realized when she looked up at him how close they were.

He seemed to have noticed, too, but she guessed he wasn’t itching to squeal and write everything, ever into her diary.

“And um… this would be a great kitchen,” she said, quickly pulling the kitchen furniture out of the kit.

She’d chosen one of the rooms closest to the door on the lowest floor. “I really love your halls and stairwells, they’re fit in so well!” she gushed.

“Thanks,” Cuthbert said flatly, but there was a moment when he’d finished saying it that Phoebe knew why: he was doing all he could not to let his voice crack.

Just the past winter and spring, Cuthbert had struggled with speaking, and whenever he made the wrong noise, the other boys would crow at him.

Now, he’d evened out his voice enough that he didn’t get laughed at nearly as much, but what if he only avoided it because he didn’t say much? He certainly said more to her than to anyone else.

She’d never laughed at him, though.

“So, um… I think this would be a cute bathroom…” she tapped the floor of a room beside the bedroom. “No big windows, so not embarrassing. I made a bathtub!” She showed him what she’d made out of the half of a plastic Easter egg.

Cuthbert’s eyes bugged out. “Did you make that on your own?” he asked.

“Well… My father helped me… He got the clay when he was in town. It hardens in the air, y’see.” She settled the bathtub into the prospective bathroom and then pulled out a tuft of pearly pink fluff. “This is the no-slip rug, isn’t it cute?”

“If you like that sort of thing,” Cuthbert said gruffly.

Phoebe faltered, and was just going for another bit of home made furniture, when her phone chimed. “Ee!” she squealed, and yanked her phone out of her satchel. “I have to get home! They’re going to start putting the first round of rolls in!”

“I can finish from here… I’ll bring your basket back to you when I go home later.” When had he begun to sound so gentle? “I’ll help you down. I don’t want you to get lost, either, so don’t take off when we’re down.”

With that, Cuthbert was the first to climb down from his treehouse, beckoning for her to follow.

However, it was not so easy to climb down as it was up.

Phoebe’s fingers and knees trembled with fear. “What if I fall?” she whimpered.

“I won’t let you,” he said with such seriousness Phoebe had to believe him.

“You’d catch me?” she asked.

“You’re not so heavy,” he answered, and climbed back up. “Take it slow,” he instructed.

Phoebe obeyed. It was much easier to drop one foot then the other lower when Cuthbert took each foot by the heel and guided it to the right foothold.

Before she knew it, she was on the forest floor, and Cuthbert was pulling her scooter upright.

“Did you forget anything?” he asked.

“No, no, it’s fine!” she smiled a bit too widely, and took the scooter from him. “I’m… really, it’s fine!” she laughed nervously.

Cuthbert patted her on the head, letting her bun fluff up and down like a pompom. “Relax, you don’t want to drive when you’re nervous. Was that your first time up a tree?”

“Yeah!” she giggled again.

“That makes sense. You did a good job. Now, come on, time for you to go back to the village.”

Phoebe had no words for Cuthbert as he walked alongside her to the edge of the forest. She worried if she opened her mouth, she would say something incredibly stupid.

In the sudden sunlight overlooking Ramsaydale, Phoebe heard a distant sound like a scared kitten.

“Just the wind,” Cuthbert said automatically, as if he knew Phoebe was concerned. “You don’t have a thing to worry about. I’ll see you soon.”

As Phoebe scooted away, reluctantly, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this school year would be something completely different from the last.

#Out of Cantrips

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