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the-orange-tabby-cat · 7 months

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Wednesday

Joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: For the last 5 years, every Wednesday you watched a handsome man walk by your street with a lilac bouquet in hands. Except he doesn't stroll on your street this Wednesday, he shows up at your grief support group.

read on AO3 | fic masterlist | masterlist | next chapter

Rating: mature, allusions to sex (not yet in the series)

Warnings/Tags: No outbreak AU, Grief and its implications, Reader lost her mom, Reader's mom has a name (but no physical description), Group therapy, Grief support group, Parent grief, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Fluff, No use of y/n

Chapter Word count: 3,7k

Tabby note: For the longest time I've thought "What if Joel lost Sarah anyway?" and this became the answer to this question. I have no clue about how big this series will be, but I do know I want to explore grief and loss with these two in the most delicate way possible. Hope you enjoy it 🐾

I. LILAC

Coffee. Sketchbook. Balcony. Five years of waking up early on Wednesdays, grabbing a cup of coffee, and sitting near the railings to wait for him. Like a clock, at 8 am sharp he appears by the street corner with a lilac bouquet under his arm.

His strong profile will be the only thing in your vision for a few minutes as he walks by. You drew it so many times that you could do it with your eyes closed. The man will walk by at a steady pace without looking around (brows deeply furrowed in a “don’t fuck with me” kind of sign), focused on his way down the street.

Tall, dark hair and a patchy beard with a square jaw… He is dreamy, but also out of reach. Where is he going? Why the lilacs? Are they for a woman, his wife maybe? Every Wednesday at 8 am, never a minute late, both he and you.

As you took a sip of your coffee, you glanced over the watch marking 7:58 am, he would be here any minute. You prepared the table in expectancy, what outfit would he be wearing today? You hoped for the green shirt, but the blue one wouldn’t be as bad.

7:59 am. His hair is a little overgrown now, but you like the way his curls frame his face. The broadness of his shoulders and how tall he looks next to the other pedestrians. You aren’t sure of the color of his eyes from afar, maybe green or brown.

8:01 am and no signal of him. This is a first. Maybe you mistook the day of the week, check your phone, and… No, Wednesday still. You squirm in your seat, impatiently looking for him. 8:07 am, he never got so late. Should you keep waiting? You don’t even know his name.

At 8:30 am you give up. A wave of melancholy fills the air. Oh god, be for fucking real, are you really sad because a strange man and his stupid lilacs didn’t walk down your street?

“Don’t forget: 9 am at the gate”, you reread your grandpa's text.

You couldn’t be able to forget it, but deep down wish you could avoid it. Cemeteries aren’t your thing, the constant reminder of the death surrounding you. However, they are Grandpa’s way of dealing with it and who are you to judge?

The sketchbook is opened at the last page you drew, with the man staring in front of him fully angered. How did you end up with over 200+ drawings of a man you never met? The doctor said finding a hobby would help and so you did: drawing. “You see what no one else sees”, your mom used to say and you decided to take a test. Too bad your eyes landed on a strange man walking down the street, holding on tightly to a lilac bouquet. Even worse he had been doing the same path for five years right in front of your balcony. The only things in your sketchbook are his face, his hands, and the bouquet. This is your third one since you kept running out of pages.

As you put the sketchbook away, your mind drifted away to your mother’s (possible) commentary. “Don’t be silly, he will come by later, I’m sure something happened” and she, most likely, would be right. She was always right. 8:50 am and with your chest tightened from “talking” to her inside your mind, your feet landed at the cemetery’s gate.

“No flowers? Really? Who raised you, pigs?”, your grandpa said narrowing his eyes at you.

He, of course, was an impeccable mess in his hat, black coat, thin-framed glasses that gave him a Bond villainesque look. In his rugged hands a white rose bouquet, carefully made and held by.

“If I remember right, and I do remember it, we are talking about the same woman who said that flowers are for the living, not the dead.” He rolled his eyes in response but in good fun. “Why the flowers then?”

“My biggest mistake was to raise a woman a little too avant-garde, wasn’t it? C’mon, we don’t have the whole day,” he deep sighed while showing you the way.

You knew the path, but your feet seemed to avoid getting there, that’s why you followed Grandpa’s steps in the hope of not turning around and leave. It was a little ritualistic if you were honest: Grandpa would have some kind of gift in his hands that he would leave at the tombstone, and you would pretend to do not care as you deeply cared about it. She wasn’t there anymore, she hadn’t been for a long time.

Behind his glasses, you could see a lost man driven by grief. His hands shaking as he cleaned her name at the tombstone, the gaze avoiding yours. He would always wear black on cemetery days, as if the time never passed and it was the first visit yet.

“Want to go first?” He asked, you sighed in response. “Don’t know why I still ask.”

“It’s… Fine. You know she was a Buddhist, right? She believed in reincarnation. I feel a little silly talking to her,” you confessed while chewing the lip corners.

“Oh, trust me: I knew her the same amount as you, maybe even more. She was my daughter, for fuck’s sake.” Startled, you looked at him in shock at the rare occasion he would curse. Shit. “I’m not here because of her beliefs or lifestyle. Do you quote her inside your head? Because I do too, I too remember every small detail of her. I’m here because it’s how I tell myself she isn’t fully gone. So sorry if I’m too old-fashioned and feel like talking a few words at my daughter's tombstone with my grandaughter who, honestly? Could show a little more love towards her right now. I want to talk with her like we used to at the kitchen table on Sundays, I want to bring her flowers just like I did on her birthday and there is no Buddha, Allah, or a flying horse that can stop me. Now, can you open your fucking mouth and say something nice to your mom about your week?”

Silence took the space for a second before you simply replied with, “Better?”

“Yes, a lot. Thank you for asking, now go on, please.” He adjusted his hat and cleared his throat. You hummed, getting a little courage to look directly at the tombstone.

“Hum. I got a new couch last week, a velvety green one. A little too sexy, if I might, but you would probably say I need something sexy to attract someone even sexier. Am I rambling?” You asked, raising your eyes from the stone, but he made a motion for you to continue it. “Let me think, oh, the cat hunted a pigeon. It was somewhat disgusting because of the amount of feathers in my apartment…”

“Did the pigeon survive?” He asked, in his eyes with a slight curiosity.

“Yes, but by a thread. It was her cat, a little savage just like her!”

The conversation went on easily after it. Grandpa had found some old notebooks of your mom, including one with a cake recipe he would later send to you. You wouldn’t tell him, it did feel better not because you were speaking to her, but because you could watch him relax in his uptight perpetual state. In the blink of an eye, your mind wandered to the strange man and if he ever relaxed like that.

Grief is a strange thing. It took a little encouragement from your therapist and the need to move on, but you had started to go to weekly meetings of a grief support group at the local church (the only thing that made you enter that space). The first months were awkward, you went but avoided it at the same time. Slowly, it grew on you. Five years of not missing a single Wednesday, even on vacation.

Your grandpa tried once, but it just wasn’t for him. He didn’t want to move on or find a meaning for it, he needed to feel his grief as second skin. You needed it to stop suffocating you, to scream and shout about that weight in the hope of someone taking it from your back.

This Wednesday wasn’t any different. You entered the church's back door with some cookies in hand, even if you were well aware that most people couldn’t eat as they exposed their pain, it was more of a sweet gesture than a necessity. The white walls and the cross in front of you completed the scenario.

“Cookies? You never eat anything,” Henry questioned while taking a bite. His dark eyes staring suspiciously at you.

“My grandpa found an old cookie recipe from my mom. How does it taste?” You replied as you watched him bite. You couldn’t bear to try it first, too anxious about it.

“Your mom was definitely a writer, not a chef. Taste like an old sock.” His face contorted as he spat out the cookie. Well, you tried something new.

“Yeah, no wonder I survived out of Lucky Charms and BTLs.” Henry laughed as you let go of your shoulder’s tension a bit.

The grief support group had grown and shrunk over the years. Sometimes people would feel good enough to leave the support, those were the lucky ones: grief was a period of their life, not an everyday thing. In other cases, they would get too depressed and leave before making some actual change in their being. You, unfortunately, were addicted to bond with the pain part of it.

Well, you and them. Henry was the first you met, totally wrecked after losing his little brother, Sam, to leukemia. He almost left college due to the weight of grief but kept it together, you even went to his graduation a few years back.

Tess came later. First, her kid died and then, in a stroke of bad luck, she found out she had a terminal disease that would, eventually, kill her. She wasn’t there to deal with the death of others, but her own. She was slowly dying and it was scary as shit. Not that you would know it from the outside, she had more strength (both physically and mentally) than most.

Frank was the group leader, conducting the discussion and creating the safe spaces. Everything you had said while hugging him, no matter how bad, never came back to hunt you. Which was odd on its own, but even odder considering his grumpy husband, Bill, was the exact opposite. Everything you did said in Bill’s direction came back to hunt you right after it came out of your mouth.

People come and go, but you stay there. Grabbing your regular place at the circle, putting the name tag on your shirt, and drinking some water just in case you cry. Except today you have someone new seated across you.

His strong nose and patchy beard hint someone you do know. His square jaw tensed up, brows deeply furrowed in a “don’t talk to me, I want to go home” that you could draw with eyes closed. The name tag reads “Joel”. You were right, his eyes are brown.

It feels weird to look at him without a pen and paper in hand, but it feels just right to see his features up close. Tess brings him coffee - black, you noticed - and gives him an eye silently saying “Don’t fuck it up”.

The meeting starts, Frank asks who is there for the first time. Joel and a woman, Hannah, raise their hands.

“It’s tradition to introduce ourselves at our first meeting. You don’t need to tell the details of why you are here or who you are, just simple information that people can distinguish you from the rest of the group.” Frank explains to a tired Joel, who sighs in response while Hannah overshares who she is.

Of course he doesn’t want to be there. Nobody wants to. You wish you could leave every time you cross the door, but know that the moment the meeting starts to develop you will want to continue in that deep state of pouring your heart out.

“I’m Joel, my friend Tess convinced me to come. That’s it.” He simply states, loud and straight. You catch Frank laughing.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to push you a little on it. Why did you accept to come here?” Joel furrows even deeper at the provocation.

“I didn’t. She trapped me.” Tess raises her very blonde eyebrows at him, who snaps. “You did trap me. Call me saying it was an emergency, I go to your house expecting the worst and you lock me inside there until the time to come here after I said I wouldn’t go to a grief support group.”

“See? He is an asshole, he needs this.” She answers Frank, making sure he gets her points. Your mom was right, something had happened to him.

“So, Joel, why are you here still?” Frank subtly asks.

“I beg your pardon?” Joel’s eyes are softer now, getting caught off guard. He doesn’t have any argument for it.

“Yes Joel, why are you still here? I’m not trapping you in this char, nobody is holding you down.” Tess retorts her mouth in his direction, that scoffs and looks around the room. When his eyes look into yours, you smile coyly unable to retain yourself.

“Sir, please continue.” Accepting defeat, Joel crosses his arms around his chest, fully ignoring Tess's triumphant smile.

“You are free to leave at any point, no need to tell us why. But I guarantee that if you stay, you might learn we aren’t that bad.” Frank nods in his direction, gaining a hard sigh. “Let’s start. Before every meeting, we say out loud the names of those who have gone to allow ourselves to think about them without shame, remorse, or guilt. You know the drill, Henry?”

“Sam,” Henry says firmly.

“Abigail,” you speak loudly.

Another silly little gesture, but you do allow yourself to think about her after it. Every single time. It’s almost as if the weight of her, the one that you carry around all day and pretend isn’t there suffocating you, comes to sit by you, not on you.

“Teresa,” Tess points at her.

“Sarah,” Joel almost murmurs looking at the ground. His hands are fidgeting, his mind in another place.

You have been there, you know how strange it is to say it for the first time out loud after a while, sounds forbidden and partly awkward. You aren’t supposed to say it to strangers, it’s sacred just for you, and yet, here you are saying it to whoever wants to share this pain with you.

You wonder if Sarah liked lilac flowers.

Some people speak about how they dealt with grief during the week until Frank asks you how the cemetery visit went. The group knows that meeting your grandpa there gives you a chill up the spine.

“I think I forget that he is allowed to grieve as he needs. I know all these little parts of her, how she lived her life. I’m quick to fight because she isn’t here to defend herself. I’m not even sure she would like for me to defend the memory of who she is… Sorry, was. Of who she was.” You swallow dryly, trying to ignore the miswording. “He bought her flowers. She always said that flowers were for the living, not the dead, and yet, he bought her a bouquet. I got frustrated, felt like he was trying to put her in a box of who he wanted her to be.

“He put me in my place quickly, even said fuck.” Henry makes some noise in surprise, you nod agreeing. “Exactly, it dawned on me: the flowers are for him, not for her. Just like his grief and how he needs to express it is only for himself, not for me to judge. I think he misses her more than he tells me. If I could go back in time, I would have implored him to cremate her and stop this nonsense of going to her grave, checking her tombstone, giving her damn flowers.”

“Maybe the flowers are his way of saying out loud that he cares too. She was his daughter before being your mother.” Joel speaks out loud, getting your full attention. His arms are still crossed, but now his eyes are lost in thought, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear it.

“Maybe. I just wish he allowed himself to stop pretending she is still here. I want to think of her without feeling guilty that she isn’t. He is too busy missing her to notice that I’m missing him.” You answer locking eyes with Joel, who chews the corners of his mouth, once again deep in thought.

“Maybe he doesn’t know how to do it, need help.” His voice soft, just like his eyes.

“Maybe.” You give in, feeling that Joel isn’t speaking about your grandpa. You swallow as you remember the lilacs.

The meeting runs smoothly. The group finishes by drinking coffee before parting ways. Frank is chatting by the corner with Joel, who is running a hand by the nape of his neck. Curiosity gets the best of you and, before you can stop, you question Tess.

“Who is Sarah?”

“A million-dollar question, huh?” She teases as she sips her sugary coffee. Henry looks between you two, waiting for a response. “You both haven’t heard from me, I’ll deny til death that I’ve ever said it. His daughter, she died a few years back. He hasn’t been the same since. That motherfucker goes to her grave every fucking Wednesday.”

“He visits her every Wednesday?” The number of drawings of Joel walking down your street early in the morning with a lilac bouquet makes more sense. His face, his fast speed, how he ignored everyone that walked by, how he never noticed you at your balcony.

“Yes, she died on a Wednesday, he relives that event every week since.”

Frank walks in your direction, Joel right behind him looking everywhere, except your face. If he only knew how much you have looked at his face before.

“I recall you haven’t been a mentor yet, right?” Frank starts and you nod, curious about where he is going. “Amazing! You’ll have your first newbie. Joel, you’re in good hands.”

He leaves before you can say anything, whether yes or no. Fuck. Joel is confused as well, still looking like he would rather leave. You open your mouth and go grab your phone.

“Sooooo… How was your first meeting?” Flipping through your phone until find your own number isn’t a good move to show that you are smart, trustful and worthy but right now you only want to avoid his brown eyes.

“Pass.” You blink at him. “I won’t keep chit-chatting. Cut to the chase.”

“Oh damn, I thought you had softened a little with time.” He fights the urge to roll his eyes and you smirk at him, reading him like a book. “I’ll give you my number in case you need someone to talk to. And yes, you can call me anytime you want to. And no, I won’t get your number. You come to me or I won’t come to you.”

That entertains him a little. It was the first rule of your mentor, she made sure you would look for her and not the other way so you could understand when and what triggered you. Joel just nods as he saves your contact.

“When did you first contact your mentor?” He questions, sounding genuine in his curiosity.

“Diet Coke, couldn’t drink.” The furrowed brows are back, so you continue. “My mom would mostly only drink Diet Coke, after she passed away I would buy canes just to open and hear the sizzling. Couldn’t drink otherwise would vomit from stress. It was really hot and I craved one, made that call and drank it.”

“And you drank the whole thing?” His soft eyes are back and you feel a little foolish for thinking that he could have green eyes, not when the dark brown suits him so much.

“Yes and vomited right away. Still, it was worth the shot.” You smile and for a fraction of time, he smiles too.

He doesn’t call right after and neither shows up at the grief support group. You still draw him, but from memory, the last time you watched as he strolled your street it was three months ago. Something about his grief seems too personal and you feel awkward invading that space, instead, every Wednesday at 8 am you find another thing to do. It isn’t as easy as it sounds, ignoring his handsome profile and the lilacs on his hands, but you allow his privacy.

The only reminder of your favorite habit is the sketchbook at the table and the fresh lilacs decorating your balcony.

Time goes by slowly and too fast, the weight of your mom still at your back as the life surrounding you goes on its course. You almost forget about him until a Wednesday morning, 8 am sharp, your phone chimes and you pick up at the first beep.

“I can’t eat pancakes. I hate pancakes, but she loved it.” He softly says and you stop everything to listen.

“You made from scratch or store-bought?” You phrased it like it is an important question. He hums back on the phone.

“Store-bought, don’t know how to make the batch. She straight up bought only the mix.”

“Would you eat with her, despite not liking it?” Your hand slides the paper, creating his silhouette line after line.

“Yes.” He simply answered, as if it was the most common question in the world.

“What are you waiting for? Take a bite.”

And he does. The chewing sound from the other side fills the phone, your hand keeps drawing him in his overgrown hair, almost as if you could see the scene right before your eyes.

“So, was it worthed?” You ask looking at the draw as he finishes his plate.

“Still taste disgusting.” He soft replies after a second, you snort and he laughs. The sound is the most delicious thing you’ve ever heard. prev | next

#joel miller #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x original character #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #the last of us #the last of us hbo #wednesday series

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heavcnslyre · 1 year

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chapter three — j.f. ( masterlist )

LOVER, YOU SHOULD’VE COME OVER.

“maybe i'm too young to keep good love from going wrong

but tonight, you're on my mind so, you’ll never know”

taglist: @jellybassett @glowingtree

(authors note PLEASE READ: you guys are the SWEETEST ever omg the amount of love i’ve gotten on this so far is insane. i appreciate, and reread over and over again, every single comment or reblog i get, it genuinely keeps me so motivated to write and i appreciate you guys so so much you have no idea. i haven’t written in forever so i excepted no one to like this fic but so far you guys have proven that to be not true and it brings me so much joy. i plan for this to be long!! idek how many parts i’m just gonna keep writing chapters until the story ends!! i cannot guarantee how often updates will be but i’ll write my ass off as much as i can for a while!! all the love in the world to you guys!!! enjoy!!)

you wake up the next morning with no messages from peter. this, usually wouldn’t be strange since he often slept in later than you, but he didn’t even reply to your message from last night at ten thirty. he never went to bed earlier than two in the morning. a gross, nervous feeling creeps up on you. you try to shake it off, thinking that maybe he just fell asleep early when he hadn’t heard from you. that’s what you would keep telling yourself.

downstairs in the kitchen, steven and jeremiah were sitting on stools at the counter, comparing their cereals. belly was at the table, studying the pancakes she was eating. susannah was cooking more pancakes at the stove. “morning (y/n)!” susannah greets you as you enter the room. jeremiah looks up at you and when you make eye contact, he gives you a forced smile and then looks back down at his cereal. he’d been acting weird since last night, when you told him about peter. it actually sort of made you feel bad, that you didn’t tell him sooner. he was clearly bothered by it or offended about you not telling him. the last thing you wanted to do was make things weird between the two of you, and that’s exactly what you did.

“morning susannah,” you smile at her. “can i have some pancakes?”

“absolutely you can!” she exclaims, flipping a pancake over onto a plate. “give me two minutes and they’ll be ready.”

“thanks susannah,” you say then walk over to sit with belly at the table. she smiles at you, her mouth full of pancakes.

“what are you doing today?” she asks you. you shrug.

“dunno. what were you thinking?”

“you should take me driving,” belly smiles cheekily. you laugh. she always asked to go driving ever since you got your license, but you didn’t mind. she had told you before that she trusted you the most to teach her how to drive without being too judgmental.

“sure, bells,” you say. “you can drive me into town to grab some stuff from the store.”

“bonfire tonight, (y/n),” steven turns to face you. “don’t forget.”

you nod. “would never.”

“can i go?” belly asks, looking between the two of you. steven looks at jeremiah then laughs.

“belly, that’s not really your scene,” steven says. “you’ve never gone before.”

“well i wanna go now,” she looks at you. “please?”

you look at steven, who shakes his head. you shrug. “i don’t know, belly. isn’t tonight usually your movie night?”

“it is,” susannah appears with a plate of pancakes for you. you thank her as she sets them down. “but we could always reschedule if belly wanted to go to a party with her siblings.”

“see?” belly says. “even susannah doesn’t think it’s a bad idea.”

“don’t get me too involved, now,” susannah tucks belly’s hair behind her ear. “i have no opinion on the matter except for i want you to do whatever makes you happiest.”

“i think you should come, belly,” jeremiah speaks up for the first time since you’ve gotten downstairs. everyone turns to look at him and he shrugs. he won’t look at you. “it would be fun if you were there.”

“it’s decided then,” belly says. “i’m going with!”

“better make sure it’s okay with mom first,” steven tells her, but she waves him off, finishing her pancakes and going to rinse off her plate.

“(y/n), i’ll be in the pool. come get me when you’re ready to go!”

“thirty minutes after eating before you can swim!” susannah calls out to her, but belly was already gone. susannah shakes her head, but there’s a smile on that face. “that girl.”

soon enough, you and belly are in the car, her driving you both into town. the music was blasting and the windows were down, hair whipping everywhere, but neither of you cared.

“what do you have to get from town?” belly asks.

“some hair stuff and i wanna go to that one boutique we found last year and see if they have anything cute,” you reply. she grins.

“i completely forgot about that place!”

“me too until i was packing for this trip and found my skirt i got from there last year,” you and belly had always looked around different shops in town, mainly window-shopping and judging the clothes that were sold in those shops. they were so extremely over priced and half of them looked like something your grandmother would wear. that was, until last summer, when you found the most gorgeous hot pink skirt on a sale rack at a new boutique. you could not stop thinking about it after you left, so the next day you and belly went back so that you could buy it. you wore that skirt constantly. the thing you remembered most about it was the way that jeremiah had looked at you the first time you had worn it. he made you feel so special just from one look, so that skirt became a staple piece in your wardrobe after that. when you started dating peter, you stopped wearing the skirt. it was such a small, meaningless idea that he looked at you special when you wore a random skirt, but it meant a lot to you at the same time. enough that it felt like betrayal to pack the skirt to bring to cousins, so you left it at home.

you and belly spend the afternoon at the shops, picking out outfits for each other to try and laughing at the ridiculousness you put each other through. as you’re getting ready to leave, before she starts the car, belly turns to you. “(y/n).”

“what’s up bells?”

“have you noticed anything…different, about conrad?” she sounds hesitant to ask you, and almost whispers his name. you sigh.

“sorta,” you say. “i was talking to jere last night and he told me that things were weird with him. he doesn’t know why, but it’s been months. he quit the football team.”

“what!?” belly exclaims. “no way. he loves football, i thought he was gonna play in college.”

you shrug. “so did everyone. he just changed things out of nowhere. jere said that he won’t ever say anything and pretends nothing is wrong, but he hasn’t really tried talking to him. you know how guys are with each other. talking about stuff like that does not come easy.”

belly nods, staring down at the steering wheel. you touch her arm gently. “hey, maybe you should talk to him.”

“me?”

“yeah bells. he’s happier around you, even if you don’t see it. maybe he’ll talk to you.”

she sighs. “i don’t know (y/n). he seems mad at me. like, every time we’ve talked, he is so different,” she glances over at you. “you know how i feel about him. i just…i hate the thought of losing him.”

“you won’t. i promise you, you won’t. he’ll open up. you sure as hell did not do anything wrong, it’s probably just something small he needs to work through. everything will work itself out.”

belly smiles at you gratefully. “thank you, (y/n). i think i would go crazy without you.”

“that is exactly what a big sister is for.”

she starts the car and begins to drive away. “so, another thing… do you think i should be a debutant?”

“a debutant?” you ask, shocked. “belly, when i was considering it last summer you seemed disgusted.”

“i know,” she sighs. “but susannah asked me to do it…and i know she was bummed when you didn’t do it last year so i just figured….” she trails off, but she didn’t have to finish. susannah had asked you last year to be a deb and you were going to do it, you really were. you even started looking for dresses and planning everything. that was, until jeremiah announced that he had no intention of ever being an escort to the deb ball. it had felt like such an indirect that it completely killed all of your interest in the ball. he was the only person you had even considered asking to be your escort, and he so openly hated the idea of being one, so you figured that was a sign that it wasn’t right for you. if you were honest, you always regretted it.

“you should do it,” you say after a while. “you’re right, it would make susannah happy. and i’m sure you’ll have no problem finding an escort. it’d be a lot of fun to watch.”

“you think so?”

“definitely.”

belly nods, but doesn’t say anything, focusing on the road. you do the same thing, staring forward. part of you still wondered if jeremiah would have been your escort if you had asked. the other part of you hates yourself for thinking that you would be the exception.

later that night, you’re standing and staring at your closet, trying to figure out what to wear to the bonfire. you brought a few dresses and skirts, but suddenly, you hated everything you owned. this bonfire was super fun every year and the best way to start out the summer, so you felt so much pressure to pick out something cute.

“hey,” jeremiah appears in your doorway, ready to go. “you about ready?”

“yeah,” you sigh. “just gotta figure out what to wear.”

“hm,” he thinks for a second, walking towards your closet. “you still have that pink skirt from last summer? that was good.”

you look down. “uh, left it at home.”

“oh,” he says, a hint of disappointment in his voice. then, he clears his throat and turns his back to you, facing your clothes. he looks for a second before grabbing a blue sundress and handing it to you. “here. this is perfect.”

you look at the dress and smile. it was one of your favorite dresses, simple and comfortable but super cute. of course jeremiah would pick out a sundress for you to wear. he always claimed that girls in sundresses were his weakness.

“okay. get out so i can change,” you push him out the door and he laughs as you do, allowing you to close the door in his face. you change quickly and find a pair of sandals to go with the dress, check your hair and makeup one last time, then you went downstairs to meet everyone else. conrad and belly were sitting on opposite sides of the couch, steven in the middle of them (which looked like it was awkward for all three of them), and jeremiah sat in the chair by the couch, staring at his phone. when steven sees you come down, he shoots up from his seat and claps his hands. “alright! let’s get going! jere’s driving, i call shotgun!”

you make eye contact with jeremiah who smiles at you after looking you up and down. you feel yourself blush at his gaze. he always did this to you. you felt so special just by him looking at you. it was stupid, honestly. that’s just how he was.

the five of you pile out of the house and into jeremiah’s car, you, conrad, and belly squished into the back while steven and jeremiah sat in the front seat of the car, singing their hearts out to taylor swifts ‘cruel summer.’ they were insane when it came to her music, but neither of them would ever admit it.

as soon as you arrive at the beach, steven jumps out of the car. he’s halfway to the fire by the time you even open your car door, and conrad and jeremiah are following close behind him, leaving you and belly to walk down on your own. you glance over at belly, who is staring at the group of people on the beach, a nervous look on her face. you throw your arm around her. “it’ll be okay bells. it’s actually fun here, promise. just…don’t talk to anyone weird. or too old. and if you get uncomfortable just come find me. we’ll figure it out.”

she smiles at you gratefully. “thank you, (y/n). i’ll be okay. you go have fun with your friends.”

you squeeze her shoulder gently as your friend nicole waves you over. “love you bells.”

“love you too.”

you hurry over to nicole and hug her tightly. “oh, nicole! it’s so good to see you!”

“it’s so good to see you too!” she exclaims. as you pull away from the hug, she offers you a beer and you take it. “how have you been?”

“so good,” you tell her. “the school year was great and i actually have a boyfriend back home!”

“ohhh!!” nicole squeals. “what’s his name? how long have you been together? tell me everything.”

you fill her in on all of the details of your relationship, with her squealing excitedly at the end of almost every sentence. as soon as you finish talking, you feel a hand on your shoulder, and turn to see your friend shayla. it was your turn to squeal in excitement as you hug her tightly, then nicole does the same.

“shayla! i didn’t know you were coming this early!” nicole exclaims. shayla shrugs.

“yeah, mum and dad decided we’d come now rather than later,” shayla replies. “deb season, you know? they want me to be prepared.”

“oh, don’t remind me,” nicole sighs. “i’m helping as a big sister this year. i don’t know if i’m ready to go through it again.”

shayla laughs. “cant be that bad! at least, that’s what i’m telling myself.”

“do you know who’s gonna escort you?” nicole asks. shayla glances at you quickly.

“well, it’s so early, i don’t know…”

nicole scoffs. “shayla, you are the most prepared and efficient person i know. i know you have someone in mind.”

“well,” shayla gives you an embarrassed smile. “i was kinda thinking i would try to get to know steven more. see if he would escort me.”

both of the girls look at you, waiting for your reaction. usually, you hated when girls had a crush on your brother. at school, girls who did would try to become friends with you to get closer to him, and it was tiring. but this was different. shayla was one of the most kind, incredible people you have ever met. you knew she had no ill intentions. also, steven could use a good influence like her in his life. “that sounds like a great idea, shayla.” you say sincerely. she breathes an obvious sigh of relief.

“i’m so glad you said that,” she says. “i would never wanna pursue something if it meant it would hurt our friendship. no man is worth that.”

you nod. “you’re so right.”

nicole’s eyes drift over your shoulder. “i’m, uh…i’ll be right back.”

without either of you replying, she walks away. you watch her as she walks directly to conrad, who had apparently been by himself in that moment. you and shayla look at each other and laugh.

“she is so down bad for him,” shayla says. you nod.

“painful to watch sometimes.”

shayla laughs again. “well, i’ll see you later too, (y/n). i’m gonna go talk to steven.” you grin at her.

“have fun!”

as soon as she walks away and you’re left on your own, your phone buzzes. you pull it out to see a text from peter. finally. it had only been all day since you’d heard from him.

peter: been busy today babe sorry for not replying

peter: at party rn it’s super fun!

peter: look at this video lol there was a tall ass diving board i jumped in fully clothed

peter: (attachment, one video)

you smile at his messages and click on the video he sent you. it took a moment to load, but once it did, you almost dropped your phone in shock. it wasn’t a video of him jumping off the diving board. it was a video of him making out with a random girl. you watch in pure shock, unable to move. as the video goes on, you realize it wasn’t a random girl. it was cassie, your best friend. you watch the video closely, hoping for any sign that this was some sort of a dare or big joke, but there was nothing. they were just heavily making out, his hands up her shirt and her hands in his hair, and someone just happened to be filming on peter’s phone.

peter: oh shit

you stare at your phone for a full minute after the video ended, unsure what to do next. then, looking at your other hand, you knew. you chugged the rest of your beer, found a cooler, and chugged another one. when you started your third one, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “hey.”

you turn around to see jeremiah standing there, smiling at you. “you having fun?” he asks. you nod, chugging almost half of the new beer in one sip.

“so much fun,” you finish off the third beer and go to grab another one, but jeremiah grabs your hand.

“wait, be careful,” he says. “how many have you had?”

“that was like, my first,” you lie, opening a new beer. “don’t worry, jere. i’ll be fine. just having some fun.”

he stares at you, a concerned look on his face. “(y/n), you never drink like this. what’s going on?”

“nothing!” you say cheerfully. “just trying to start the summer out right,” you look around and see a group of people dancing nearby. you take a sip of your beer and motion towards them. “i’m going to dance.”

“(y/n),” jeremiah calls, but you were already stumbling away from him, towards the people dancing. shayla and steven were in that group, shayla doing more dancing than steven was, but both of them looking like they were having fun nonetheless. shayla grins at you as you approach, grabbing your free hand and spinning you around. you giggle and dance with her for a while, finishing off your beer as you do. you were definitely drunk at this point, which wasn’t hard for you, since you were a lightweight. at things like this, you usually stopped at one beer or seltzer, so you definitely were not used to four. it was good, though. it made you forget about peter and cassie betraying you.

it made you forget until now.

if you were honest, it didn’t surprise you as much as you thought it would. cassie had been the one to introduce you to peter, and she always had a weird connection to him. you almost felt stupid for not seeing this coming sooner. most of all though, you were just angry. angry at peter for leading you on and cheating on you. angry at cassie for supposedly being your best friend and then doing this the second you’re not in town. angry at both of them for ruining the one good thing you had in a long time. as you walk towards the beer cooler again, jeremiah catches up to you and grabs your arm, holding you back. “okay, no. i’m cutting you off, (y/n).”

“let go of me,” you grumble quietly, trying to free yourself from his grip, but he was much stronger than you. he grabbed your other arm so you were forced to face him.

“(y/n), what’s going on with you?”

“nothing!” you yell at him, catching the attention of a few people around you, but you were too far gone to care. “nothings going on with me! i’m just trying to have a good time, okay?”

jeremiah smiles awkwardly at a few people around you, trying to divert the attention away from the two of you. “i know you, (y/n). why are you acting like this? you’re never like this.”

“so what?” you say. “so what if i am?”

a few girls call jeremiah’s name and attempt to wave him over to them, but he ignores them. “come on, we should get you home.”

“i don’t wanna go home,” you say hardly, looking him in the eyes. he looks genuinely concerned for you. somehow, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “i wanna stay here.”

“(y/n)…” he’s cut off by the sound of police sirens and people yelling and scrambling around to pick up the beer cans and leave quickly. jeremiah swears under his breath and grabs your hand, pulling you away from the beach. “guess you have no choice.”

the two of you run towards his car, following everyone else who was running away from the scene. you look around frantically, but can’t find belly, conrad, or steven. “jere, wait, where’s everyone else?”

jeremiah shakes his head. “i’ll find them in a second. gotta get you to the car.”

“but belly, jere,” you say. “she’s probably scared shitless.”

he shakes his head again. “she found someone to hang out with. i’m sure she’s with him. i’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“but—“

“i’ll find her, (y/n).” he cuts you off. “just please get in the car first.” at this point, he sounds like he’s begging you. you look him in his eyes but have to look away quickly. the desperation in his expression was too painful to look at. you nod.

“okay.”

he squeezes your hand then opens the passenger door for you, allowing you to climb in. “i’ll be right back, okay? stay here.”

and with that, he’s running back towards the beach like he was superman. at that moment, it felt like he was, honestly. running back towards the cops in order to save everyone else. you weren’t sure that you knew many people who would do that. while you’re still alone in the car, you pull out your phone to finally reply to peter, who had texted you again, five times.

peter: (y/n) omg i’m so sorry

peter: wrong video but i swear it’s not what it looks like

peter: we’re both so drunk we were dared to do it and that’s why it was recorded

peter: please (y/n) please we didn’t mean it

peter: please believe me

you: fuck you

and with that, you block his number, and set your phone down. you wonder if you would have that much confidence if you were sober. you wonder if you would believe him if you were sober. it was a good thing that you weren’t, you figured. it was for the best. two months didn’t have to mean much, right? just a silly little mistake you made to date him that ended badly, but it didn’t matter, right? yeah your best friend betrayed you, but no worries, right?

suddenly, you realize that you are crying. sobbing, actually. uncontrollable sobs escape from your lips and you sit in the dark car, alone, sobbing your heart out. how was this fair? what did you do to deserve to lose your best friend and boyfriend all at once? the fact that if he hadn’t accidentally sent you that video then you never would have known made it worse. it made you wonder if this had been going on for a while, and he had just slipped up now. you could not stop crying.

even when the car doors opened and jeremiah slid into the seat next to you, you could not stop crying. he looks at you, shocked. “(y/n)?” he asks softly, unsure. the rest of the car is quiet, but you could feel everyone else’s presence in the backseat. you shake your head.

“i’m… i’m fine,” you say unconvincingly. “i’ll be, i’ll be okay.” you nod at jeremiah, who was staring at you with the same desperation on his face from before. he seems unconvinced, but starts the car, glancing at you again before he drives away. in the dark, he reaches over and grabs your hand, holding it tightly in his. you continue to cry silently for the rest of the ride home, squeezing his hand with both of yours.

#jeremiah fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher #tsitp jeremiah #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah fisher x you #jeremiah fisher x y/n #tsitp #tsitp steven #tsitp fanfic #tsitp cast #tsitp spoilers #tsitp belly #tsitpbookseries #tsitp conrad #conrad fisher #belly conklin #steven conklin #the summer i turned pretty #bria j.f updates

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xbomboi · 1 month

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i wonder if people actually realize that darling and dexter being twins was a retcon

if it were up to me, they’d have always been presented as twins from the start, because that’s just way better imo, but i’m not CEO of Mattel so it’s NOT up to me and we have this weird inconsistency.

i mean, first of all, the start of the tv series already includes that weird period of time where darling just straight up Does Not Exist because at the end of the day this is just an extended toy commercial and there wasn’t any toy to advertise yet.

when darling WAS, however, introduced into the show, she strangely interacts with DARING more than she ever does dexter, despite her closeness to the latter that’s established as early on as her doll’s diary. my personal guess as to why that is has to do from the show capitalizing heavily on darling’s princess charming gimmick of being a girl who’s a knight, and as a result, benefited from portraying the fact that she and daring are, in a way, foils to each other.

anyway, when darling’s doll released, her bio listed her birthday as November 16th. dexter’s birthday had already been established as the 11th of February, so at this time, darling was not intended to be his twin.

and we can see this further shown by the word choice in darling’s diary. she refers to daring as her “oldest brother” and then goes on to refer to dexter as her “older brother”. which, sure, a twin can be older than the other, but in her doll diary, she’s gonna call him her twin if they want us to know that they’re twins.

i’m not sure exactly when the earliest instance of any official media referring to darling and dexter as twins was, but if my memory serves me correctly, i believe it was a post from the official Facebook that had stated they were twins. again, don’t quote me on that.

this discrepancy is important to me as someone who has to constantly fact check lore and timeline of events, because it very much so impacted Ever After High media released prior to the twin retcon’s ability to hold up. as far as I can remember, a good amount of the books were written under the initial status of darling’s birthday falling on 11/16 rather than 2/11 with dexter, the Susanne Selfors books coming to mind in particular. but i could be wrong, because i’m not going to reread all of those books just for this post.

the updated birthday for darling ended up being the one they stuck with. a brief scroll on the official Ever After High Instagram page will show as much, with birthday posts for dexter & darling on the same day. there is the tidbit of information that dexter is still older by a few seconds (not sure if this was ever officially stated, i’m only going off of the wiki for this one detail), but i honestly think that’s only included as a way to try and rectify the past instances of darling or possibly anyone else referring to dexter as her older brother.

as of today, it seems like everyone understands darling and dexter to be twins, and if they are familiar with the past retcon, they prefer the twin change and are glad it was made. i’ve never witnessed anyone say anything like “ugh, i really wish they wouldn’t have made darling dexter’s twin and kept her younger!!”.

still, it’s interesting that it happened. i call it what it is: a retcon. and most people hear that term and associate it with negativity. which, to be fair, in terms of writing, it more often than not absolutely is. but in this isolated case, despite it making some of the supplementary pieces of media for the series confusing (though the show and books/diaries take place in a different continuity anyway), i see this as a good thing. right off the bat, it makes less sense to me that the Charmings would intentionally go on to have not just one but two other children individually after daring with him being the successful golden child they wanted. it makes more sense that they decided to have one other child just for the hell of it and happened to end up with two.

also, and i don’t have the source for this so i’m just going based off of memory, apparently the grade-level cut off isn’t in the fall in the Ever After High universe, because daring, dexter, and darling are all intended to be in the same grade according to what i believe was one of the writers or producers or something of the sort for the tv show. and i make that conclusion about the cutoff not being in the fall because daring’s birthday is April 2nd, and since he’s older than dexter & darling, they’d have been born in February of the following year, meaning in order for them to be in the same grade together, the grade level cut off couldn’t fall anywhere within the roughly nine months gap between April to the next February. which, if you’ve done the math, you’ll have realized must mean that either the cut off for the next grade either falls sometime late February anywhere after the 11th, is on the 1st of April, or is any day in the month of March.

darling being in the same grade as daring and not a grade (or two) below also makes daring and rosabella work considering that, being her roommate, rosabella would be in whatever grade darling is in, and were she to be anymore than a grade below daring, there’d be a questionable age gap. not to mention with darling herself and apple. jesus. so it’s definitely a positive that’s not the case. and to anyone who may have been confused before, this is also why dexter can room with a character like hunter, because he too is in the same grade.

or maybe this is a show for babies and nothing matters.

#can you tell the extra work i’ve had to put in for the css has got me thinking #because it has #eah #ever after high #darling charming #dexter charming #daring charming #charming siblings #charming twins #rosabella beauty #apple white #hunter huntsman #ramble #info dump

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bunny-rambles · 2 years

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characters; Scaramouche, gn reader

summary; Your new cat boy takes care of you when you’re sick

cw/tw; Cat boy Scara !!! Scara has cat ears and a tail !! Oh yeah also sick reader, worrying, hinted that Scara thinks you might die, Scaramouche being Scaramouche (I did try to make him a bit softer here)

word count; 2.1k

notes; uh so remember that untitled cyno sick fic I did? This is basically that but longer and it’s scara (but with cat ears). This is also going to be the start of a series with genshin boys as cat boys !! This is all very self indulgent because all I want to do is pet scara’s ears and I will be writing a drabble about that dw. I reread this and edited it a bunch of times but I’m still not exactly happy with this, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. And a special thank you to my dearest friend juju for proof reading this at least 5 times. Enjoy <3

Please reblog if you like this!!

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He was beautiful.

Vibrant, violet hues shone like precious gems against his porcelain skin, his face framed by dark locks, his soft appearance ethereal. Perfectly pointed ears sat atop of his head, twitching in annoyance when your gaze lingered on them for too long. His tail was long, swaying swiftly from side to side, his silky fur shimmering in the light of the morning sunlight. How could anyone abandon such a gorgeous creature?

Scaramouche was the newest addition to your little family of one - and he was not very fond of you. This didn’t come as that much of a surprise, since the shelter you adopted him from told you that he wouldn’t let anyone come near him, unless they wanted to have their arm mauled. From his pristine condition, you could only assume that perhaps he had been thrown out by his previous owners. Poor thing.

But he had told you rather bluntly that he didn’t want sympathy, and that he was only staying with you because it was better than being at the shelter with all the ‘mangy strays’.

At least, that’s what he told you.

In reality, he was extremely thankful that you had chosen him, even with his harsh exterior - therefore, you were now important to him. He never told you this, or even hinted with his words that’s what he truly thought - but it showed in the little things.

The way he’d sit near you whenever you were around, or bumped his head against yours when he was certain you were asleep, he even cooked for you from time to time! Still, there was very little that left his mouth that was positive, often insulting you if you tried to break past the walls he had put up around himself, or sneering at you while telling you that you had made the biggest mistake of your life by adopting him. It didn’t bother you, if anything you found it rather endearing. It was adorable that he called himself your worst nightmare, but did very little to terrorise you except the typical cat behaviour of being a minor nuisance. You were wise enough not to ever say that to him, though.

The bond between you was unspoken, but strong. And after today, you could only assume that it was unbreakable, too.

The sound of the spoon hitting against your coffee mug as you stirred your beverage made you cringe, the light contact echoing in your head. Your hands trembled as you brought the cup up to your lips, letting out a soft sigh of content when the warm liquid soothed your aching throat.

Your feline companion was staring at you from across the room, his tail swishing behind him as he watched you. You were acting strange. Usually you would try to strike up a conversation with him - not that he would ever talk back, but he had grown used to your ramblings about the dream you had or the things you were planning to do later. But it was quiet on your end this morning. Too quiet… In fact, almost everything about you was off today now that he was really looking at you. Did your hands always shake when you were holding something? No, your legs were trembling too… Were you cold?

You raised your head from staring at the liquid in your mug, shrinking back when you saw Scaramouche glaring at you intensely. He huffed quietly, breaking his gaze to stare out of the window, crossing his arms over his chest. It wasn’t his problem. You weren’t his problem. You were just a roommate as far as he was concerned, nothing more. Why should he care about you not acting like yourself? Good riddance, your constant chatter was annoying anyway.

His ear twitched when he heard you grab a second mug, knowing what was coming. You carefully stirred the honey in with the warm milk, taking a little longer than usual before shuffling over towards him.

“Here,” You offered with a fragile smile. “Sorry it took so long.” Any other day, he would’ve refused your gesture and drunk the contents when you weren’t looking, but today… Even he didn’t have the heart to turn you away.

“You look awful.” He told you bluntly, holding the drink close to his chest. His ear twitched yet again when all you did was continue to smile at him. Ugh, you were no fun, barely giving a reaction to his insults anymore. Still, this time he was simply speaking his mind. You did look awful, the dark shadows under your eyes only looking more prominent now that he could see your face up close.

“Do I? Well… I haven’t had a shower yet.” You shrugged, taking another small sip of your own drink.

“I don’t think it has anything to do with that.” He mumbled, nursing from his own mug. You sighed heavily, not in the mood for his usual round of teasing. All you wanted to do was go back to bed. He raised an eyebrow at you, but said nothing, getting the hint that maybe today he should leave you alone. After a few moments, you placed your empty cup on the table, making a mental note to clear it away later before making your way to the bathroom. Maybe after your shower, you’d feel better.

Your steps were slow but you were barely moving, the door you were desperately trying to get to feeling more like a static image than a destination. When you leaned against the wall for support, Scaramouche’s head perked up again. He called your name hesitantly, rising from where he was seated on the couch. You didn’t respond.

“Hey…” He started, but he’d never finish. His body moved before he even realised what he was doing, catching your falling figure when your hand slipped. He called your name again but it was no use.

You were hot- no, you were burning up, your skin feeling clammy underneath his fingertips. He’d never seen someone in such a state before. It worried him. Beneath your heavy panting, you could hear a soft voice mumbling something you couldn’t understand before the blurry image of your companion's worried face above you faded into darkness. Your name was the last thing you heard.

Something firm was pressing against the side of your head when you started to stir. A hand was on top of your own limp one by your side, gripping it tightly, desperately like a lifeline. When your eyes opened, the first thing you noticed was that surprisingly, you weren’t left on the floor or even on the couch in the living room. Instead, you were back in your room, swaddled in blankets with a damp cloth on your forehead. With the burnt orange and soft pink hues shining through your window and illuminating the room, you could only assume you had been out for quite a while.

“Please…” A small voice whispered quietly against your temple, hand tightening around yours. You must’ve really been out of it if you didn’t wake up from this almost bruising grip.

“Not them, too…”

Of course you recognised that voice, but never had you heard such tenderness from it. Perhaps you were still dreaming? He’d never been this soft with you, even in his rare moments of vulnerability. You let out a pained groan as your hand strained to squeeze his, forcing your heavy eyes to finally open. The head pressed against yours immediately sprung up, his breath stilling in anticipation.

“Scara…?” You croaked out, raising your head slightly. The two of you looked at each for a moment, and although your vision was hazy, you were sure you saw the feline’s eyes glassy with unshed tears. His gaze then turned sharp, as well as his ears. With his sharp fangs bared and his claws barely contained, you screwed your eyes shut to brace yourself.

But the attack you expected never came. Trembling arms embraced you tightly, pulling you against a warm chest. A hand rested against the back of your head, only pulling you further into the comforting hold. Your own arms stayed limp at your side, too in shock to properly register what was going on. His ears were flattened down against his head, tail curling around you to make sure you wouldn’t pull away. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He hissed against your neck, but there was barely any bite in his voice. It sounded more like a pained whimper than the intimidating growl he was going for.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you had been holding, carefully returning the hug. “Sorry…” His hold on you tightened. Neither of you mention the wetness on your neck.

“Don’t do that again.” You had never heard his voice sound so quiet before. You nodded slowly, letting your heavy head rest against his shoulder. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you faintly registered this was the first time the two of you have ever hugged. It felt… Nice. Like here, in his embrace, nothing could get you. With him, you were safe. A tightness restricted your throat, causing you to cough quietly in your hand, your whole body trembling in pain.

“Here, lay down.” Gently, he lowered your body that was in his arms back against the mattress, making sure your head was comfortable against your pillow. You groaned quietly once again, looking up at him with flushed cheeks and heavy eyes. His face had completely changed, eyebrows furrowed and flat ears still pressed firmly against his head.

“Are you okay?” You managed to choke out, causing him to scoff quietly.

“Really? You’re asking me that, when you’re the one who can barely move?”

You shrugged your shoulders, earning a heavy sigh from him. “What happened back there anyway?”

Again, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t realise how bad my sickness was…”

“Sick? So you’re not…” His voice trailed off. Confused, you tilted your head to look at him. His gaze seemed to fixate on the floor, and a visible wave of relief washed over his features. “Of course you’re sick.” He chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head at himself. In his previous home, his master was almost never at home, therefore he’d never seen anyone get as weak as this just from something as common as a cold. Still, he wasn’t entirely clueless, he did know at least a few actions you were supposed to take when someone was sick.

You hummed quietly, letting your eyes flutter shut. “Wait.” He called out quietly, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder, shaking you lightly. “You need to eat something. Just… Just stay awake until you eat, got it?” Once again, you hummed softly, nodding your head slowly. He seemed satisfied with that, sliding off the bed carefully.

“Scara?”

“What?”

You smiled slightly, pulling the covers over your body tighter. “Thank you…”

He stilled, his eyes widening slightly, one of his ears twitching lightly in response. Shaking his head, he turned away quickly, hoping you didn’t notice how easily his cheeks became the colour of cherry blossom petals. “…Whatever.”

And so you waited patiently, fighting off slumber until your companion came back. After he fed you - the image of him pouting as he held up the spoon to your mouth to feed you some soup is still fresh in your mind, you were free to finally sleep (once he made sure you were going to wake up anyway). As he was making his way out of your room however, you very gently grabbed onto the end of his tail. He whipped around, about to scold you for touching him like that, until he saw the look on your face.

“Stay with me?” How could he refuse when you looked so fragile? He let out a soft huff before getting under the covers with you, wrapping his arms around you carefully. The both of you smiled slightly, snuggling into each other. A foreign noise started to emanate from deep within his chest, powerful vibrations warming your body to the core. Purring. Scaramouche was purring.

“Goodnight, Scara.” You whispered, boldly pressing a sweet kiss to his chest. His tail curls around you once again, vibrant eyes finally slipping closed after torturous ordeal that had been today. The thought of almost losing you made his arms tighten, caging you within his protective hold.

“Yeah. Night.” He doubted he’d be able to sleep very much after this. How troublesome you were, making him worry like that. Weak human. But he supposed after all of this- his thoughts pause for a moment so he could press his lips against the crown of your head.

You were his human now.

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x gn reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x gn reader #kunikuzushi x you #scaramouche fluff #genshin scaramouche #scaracat #cat boy scara #cat boy series

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archangeldyke-all · 4 months

Note

Oooh for Roach Verse, what about:

-Holiday funtime antics?

-Jinx has a school bully and those chuckleheads create the most over the top plots to help her out, lol

-Jinx brings home a stray

-The gang gives Roach the day off from cooking/ healing/general caretaking and it goes about as well as you'd imagine

-Jinx has a crush on some kid, and Silco/Sevika are not coping well

That's off the top of my head, I gotta go reread the Roach series now! lol

these are so fucking fantastic, i might revisit this a few times to do some of the other prompts too omg. but the one with jinx bringing home a stray??? chaos i love it.

men and minors dni

lock's been avoiding you all day.

it's strange. usually, you, lock and ran are like the three musketeers-- always getting into and back out of trouble together.

but today... lock's been avoiding you like the plague.

it's a little funny. the man's three hundred pounds of pure muscle, tattooed and pierced on nearly every inch of his skin, but each time he walks in a room with you there, he turns on his heel and runs away like a scared little girl.

mostly, though, you're just worried that you've pissed off your friend.

"he really hasn't said anything to you?" you ask ran. they're 'helping' you make sandwiches for lunch-- eating more than they are assembling, but still. you appreciate the company.

"nah, he's been jumpy around me too." they mumble around a mouthful of turkey. you cringe in disgust as you watch them squirt a dollop of mustard directly into their mouth, on top of the mush of turkey on their tongue. "don' worry. we'll get 'im drunk and interrogate him tonight." ran promises, patting your shoulder. you giggle, smacking your friend's hand away from the cold cuts.

twenty minutes later, you're making your rounds across the bar and delivering sandwiches to the crew.

singed and deckard barely notice you, both of them searching the lab for something when you drop off their sandwiches. singed shouts a distracted "thank you roach!" before the basement door slams behind you.

thieram's still asleep-- preparing to stay up all night tonight for work. you put his sandwich on his desk and gently nudge him. "'s almost two." you whisper. he grunts.

"thamk y' r'ch." he mumbles.

your next stop is silco's office, since lock is still hiding from you. you gently knock on the door. "lunch!" you call.

"come in!" silco shouts.

silco's laying back in his office chair, his feet propped up on his desk, a cigar between his lips as he scrubs at his temples. you raise an eyebrow at his haggard appearance, gently placing his sandwich beside the papers littering his desk.

"rough day?" you guess. silco groans. from the sound of his groan alone, you know he needs a bitch-session. you happily plop down on the couch next to his desk, tearing into your sandwich and nodding at silco. "spill. but make it quick, i still gotta feed the kid."

silco groans again at the mention of his foster daughter, and you burst into laughter. of course it's about jinx. silco's never this angsty about business. "she's been avoiding me all day." he sighs, dropping his hands to look at you. you furrow your brows.

"it's only one." you say. he huffs.

"she was acting cagey last night too. has she said anything to you?" he asks. you shake your head no.

you're usually the first person jinx goes to bitch about silco to. you or sevika. so the fact that you haven't heard anything only makes her behavior stranger. silco groans again.

"i don't even know what i did! we were perfectly fine at lunch yesterday, and now she won't even let me in her room!"

"she's probably just hormonal. puberty, silco, it's different for girls man." you try to explain. he just shakes his head.

"no it's not that."

you take another bite of your sandwich, gesturing at silco to do the same. he huffs and rolls his yes, but he at least takes a bite, so you're happy. "lock's been acting jumpy around me too. maybe it's just somethin' in the air." you suggest.

silco's eyes sharpen at your words. the second you hear yourself say it, you figure it out too.

"oh, shit." you mumble, jumping off the couch. "what did those shits get themselves into now?" you ask, scooping up the last few sandwiches you have left to deliver and running toward the office door. silco starts to chuckle behind you-- a defeated laugh, one that means he knows he's about to have an even bigger headache that he did when he just thought jinx was upset with him.

"don't let them drag you into it, roach. i need you as my informant." he begs. you laugh.

"i'll let you know what i find out." you call over your shoulder as you stumble into the hallway and slam silco's office door shut behind him.

you take off toward jinx's room, not bothering to knock, knowing it would only give them time to hide whatever shit they're up to.

you slam the door open, and your eyebrows fly up your forehead when not just jinx and lock; but jinx, lock and sevika all turn to look at you with big guilty eyes.

you groan. "what did you do?"

"now, hold on, why do you assume we--"

"babe, i promise i had nothing to do with it until just this morn--"

"i am so sorry roach, i told her not to--"

they all start to speak at the same time, flailing wildly as their voices overlap. and then, from a pile of blankets and plushies on jinx's bed, a raspy 'meow' floats above all the rambling voices.

they all cringe simultaneously, their heads snapping over to the bed. you burst into defeated laughter.

"a cat!?" you ask, walking over to the bed. jinx's eyes grow a little wider at the smile on your face, and she's the first to run up to your side. "oh, janna." you groan through your smile as you look down at the mangy thing. "fuck, jinx, it's probably getting fleas and lice all over your covers."

she blinks up at you with wide eyes. "but she's so cute, roach!" she squeals. you giggle at the girl, then look up at your friends.

lock's cooing down at the cat, gently patting its forehead as it purrs into his hand. sevika's watching it with a smile she's trying and failing to bite back.

"you're all suckers!" you cry. they both look up at you guiltily.

"jinx is gonna name 'er shitstorm." sevika supplies. you laugh despite yourself, reaching out to ruffle jinx's bangs. it's the perfect name for the poor little cat.

"where did you even find this thing?" you ask. jinx shrugs.

"i heard meowing in the lab last night. found her hiding in a corner, all scared and alone." jinx pouts, reaching down to pet the cat. it seems to know jinx is it's savior-- licking at her hand and closing its eyes as she pets it.

it occurs to you that this is probably what deckard and singed were looking for earlier. you have to bite back a laugh-- this cat is one lucky fucker, narrowly avoiding a brutal death of shimmer experimentation to become a little girl's fur-baby.

"roach..." jinx whispers. you look up from the little cat, rolling your eyes at the wet puppy eyes jinx is blinking at you. "please can we keep her?" she whines.

you huff, throw each of your friends their sandwich, then lean forward and pick the cat up, holding it to your chest. it's a docile little thing, cuddling against you the second you got it in your arms. jinx is wiggling with glee before you, already knowing what your answer's going to be. you flip her off, and she grins.

"fine." you grunt. jinx and lock burst into happy squeals, jumping up and down as they hold each other's hands. sevika's grinning behind the pair. "but you three gotta help me take care of this mess understand?" you ask. they all nod.

"whatever you need, roach." lock promises, grining. you giggle.

"okay. lock, take jinx's bedding out back and burn it-- it's easier than trying to wash out all the bugs and diseases." jinx pouts a bit at the thought of losing her star-themed sheets, and you nudge her with your foot. "you still got your dinosaur sheets in the closet. and i'll buy you a new set next time we're at the markets, okay?" you ask. she nods up at you. lock gets to work stripping her bed.

"jinx, go talk to silco. he thinks you're mad at him."

"you think he's gonna let me keep 'er?" she asks, worried. you snort.

"jinx, you could ask silco for the moon and he'd find a way to bring it to you." you say. jinx smiles shyly at this, and you ruffle her bangs again. "tell 'im i say that pets are good for kids' social development, or some bullshit like that. she'll be good for pest control in the bar. get him to take you shopping for some food and a litter box for little shitstorm, okay?" you ask.

jinx grins and nods up at you, wrapping your legs in a quick hug before taking off down the hall to talk to silco. you laugh as you watch her go.

sevika's the only one left, blinking at you guiltily from across jinx's room. you snort at the sight of her. "come help me clean this little shit." you mumble, nodding toward jinx's bathroom.

sevika follows with a smile.

"you're the sucker." she teases as you pass her the cat, plugging the sink and filling it with warm soapy water. you snort.

"you know she was supposed to be one of singed's test subjects?" you ask. sevika bursts into laughter, scratching the cat under her chin. she purrs so loud it's like a little motor. "i went down there today, he and deckard were tearing the lab apart looking for the cat." you laugh.

sevika snorts. "after her bath i'll go break the news to 'em."

down the hall, silco's shocked voice rings out. "a cat!?"

you and sevika burst into giggles.

you take the cat from her hands, firmly holding it as you start to scrub it's skin free of bugs. she yowls at the water, but settles down once you start to scrub her, seemingly liking her bath. sevika wraps an arm around your waist, kissing your head as you work.

"she is a cute little thing. makes me feel bad for all the creatures jinx didn't rescue from singed." you whisper. sevika chuckles.

"honestly, babe, we're just lucky singed hasn't started experimenting on humans yet." she jokes.

thumping footsteps come running toward jinx's room. you both look up in time to see ran round the corner, a manic grin on their face. "a cat!" they squeal, pushing into the bathroom to coo down at the sweet little thing. "awe, hello sweet girl!" they cry, taking the cat out of your hands and into their arms.

you giggle at sevika's shocked expression-- ran's just a ball of sunshine under their bangs and eyeliner-- and pass ran a clean towel to wrap the cat in.

"you got it from here?" you ask your friend, trusting that they know how to care for the creature better than you. they grin, pressing kisses to the wet cat's head.

"jinx already named me godparent. suck it, bitches." ran says, sticking their tongue out at you and sevika, hugging the cat closer to their chest.

sevika snorts and you roll your eyes fondly.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #ran arcane

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softguarnere · 11 months

Note

ok dove, my love, the writer I aspire to be bc your fics are actually 🤌 I was wondering if you could mayhaps appease my craving for a Joe Toye x sick reader fic? I'm quite literally dying of bronchitis and a double ear infection and I have done nothing but reread your work bc it's literally like drugs for me oml

anyway I hope you're doing okay and autumn treats you wonderfully!! <333

In Sickness and In Health

Joe Toye x reader

A/N: Hey Sky! You are too sweet, oh my goodness 🙈 Thank you so so much! I'm so sorry that you're sick, and I hope you're feeling better now 💕 Get well soon beloved, and I hope you enjoy this! (This is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) Also, just a reminder that my requests are closed; I wrote this as part of catching up on requests that were already in my asks Warnings: unspecified sickness

This isn’t how it was supposed to happen, you can’t help but think for the millionth time today. But no, every time you think about your original plans for the weekend, the temperature of the room feels even hotter, the pinpricks of sweat on your brow and neck even more prominent, and the pain in your stomach even worse.

“Joe,” you sigh when the man in question takes a seat on the bed, making the mattress at your feet dip under his weight.

He holds up a hand, stopping your sentence in its tracks. “Don’t you dare apologize again.”

His voice is gentle, but you can’t help leaning back onto your pillow and sighing. Because you are sorry. Really, really sorry, for just about everything you can think of. The fact that you travelled all this way for your husband’s reunion with his old army buddies, only to get sick the night before; that he’s taking care of you when he should be catching up with old friends and reminiscing over memories; that he won’t listen to you when you insist that he can leave you here.

“You should go see your friends.” They’re probably all down at the hotel bar by now. Even though the reunion won’t officially start until tomorrow, some of them are probably pregaming.

“I can’t. Not when I’m taking care of you. I made a vow, remember? In sickness and in health.”

I really do have the perfect husband, you can’t help but think to yourself. How many other men would shrug it off, or sneak away once you were asleep? Strange, how the roles have been reversed here, with you insisting that he go, that you can fend for yourself.

You sigh again. “I just – I feel bad. We came all this way to see your friends, and all you’ve gotten to see so far is the inside of this hotel room.”

But Joe only shrugs. “Well, the reunion doesn’t even start until tomorrow. Maybe you’ll feel better by then. We’ll just see what happens. Besides,” he rushes on before you can continue. “A lot of the guys live in Pennsylvania anyways. If we want to see each other, we can just make the drive some other time.”

“But Joe,” you stress. “This is the Easy reunion. This was important to you.”

“You’re important to me,” he deadpans, but his eyes are soft. “I won’t be able to enjoy any of it if I’m worrying about you the whole time.”

Oh. You had been so caught up in worrying about him enjoying himself that you hadn’t even considered that. Maybe the combination of the sickness and the medicine has clouded your judgement. Or maybe just your love for him has.

“You should rest,” Joe suggests. “Do you want me to get you anything?”

You want for him to hold you, to make you feel better. But unfortunately, there are some things in the world that not even a man as strong as Joe Toye can fight off, and sickness is one of them.

The two of you have been together for quite some time now, though, and he knows you well enough to read your mind. Without even asking, he kicks off his shoes, adjusts his prosthetic leg, and curls up beside you on the bed, wrapping you in his arms.

“Let me know if you get too hot,” he whispers. When you nod, he repeats his sentiment from earlier. “Don’t worry, okay, (Y/N)? We’ll see what happens in the morning.”

The morning feels like such a distant time. Right now, the only time that means anything is that which you spend in his arms.

#joe toye #joe toye x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfic #my writing #tumblr friends #sky 🌌

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canmom · 8 months

Note

Wait is ratfic not fiction about rats???

I can talk about fiction about rats too! Let's talk about some British childrens' book series! And one American comic book.

The four relevant works for our discussion would be the Redwall series by Brian Jacques, the Welkin Weasels series by Garry Kilworth, the Deptford Mice series by Robin Jarvis, and the Mouse Guard series by David Petersen. All these works portray a world inhabited by semi-anthropomorphic animals that are at the scale of real world animals. And indeed all of them include rats, albeit mostly as antagonists.

Redwall is perhaps the one that has most penetrated internet pop culture, thanks to articles like this one on SomethingAwful which mocked some of the series's recurring elements while painting Brian Jacques as a bit of a nazi. I ate those books up as a kid, but in retrospect I truthfully can remember only snatches: the shrews' battle cry of 'logalogalogalog!', the pages of elaborate descriptions of feasts.

Redwall is a big sufferer from the 'evil races' problem. A certain arbitrary set of species (e.g. rats, stoats, weasels, ferrets) are ontologically evil, and various other species are standins for various stereotypical British social classes (e.g. iirc moles are always working class). As unfortunately tends to be the case, it even makes the strange decision to double down on this - I believe in one of the books, a member of one of the evil species is raised in the Abbey, but inevitably his evil nature comes out when the good rodents and mustelids are once again threatened by an army of bad rodents and mustelids.

Nevertheless, as repetitive and ethically dubious as these books are, they do conjour a very specific flavour which makes them memorable. The author's enthusiasm for food as child of the Blitz shines through, as does his evident love for the idyllic Redwall Abbey. There's a lot of really charming elements like the 'logalogalog' thing. Having these read out to me as kid was great, it had a bit of a panto feel, where I could join in with the expected beats.

The first Redwall book implies that humans exist in this world, but this is subsequently quietly retconned to an only-animals fantasy world.

The Welkin Weasels series is a lot shorter at six books, and you may well bounce off the author's enthusiasm to insert puns and references all over the place (I recall one book managing to set up "badgers? we don't need no stinkin' badgers"), but from what I remember of them they benefit from having more explicit horror elements which makes the stakes much more engaging. I recall the weasels trying to weasel their way into a crypt full of horrible pitfalls and finding it very tense as a kid.

There is once again a sympathetic-unsympathetic species divide - weasels are our plucky heroes, while stoats tend to be aristocratic and cruel. However, it does play out a little differently: the first three books are in a medieval fantasy setting with explicit magic, but over the course of the novels, the mustelids manage to rediscover humans, leading to a timeskip forward into a more steampunk setting where the animals and humans have built a joint society together.

Honestly, I would quite like to reread these books! They may well not hold up today, but it would be fun to revisit them.

The Deptford Mice series by Robin Jarvis - author of Deathscent, a highly memorable novel in which Elizabethans have been transported by aliens into a space archipelago where all the animals are robots which run on the four humours - is a pretty fun one, although my memory is very foggy. It's set in our world, in London, and as I recall the first book involves an evil cat wizard attempting to resurrect the Bubonic Plague from the plague pits. I recall a scene in which rats dig up the plague pit and have their paws melted by the lime coating it. Beyond that I can recall very little but I definitely think it merits inclusion in this list of rat fic.

Once again we have the good rodent/evil rodent problem. Mice and rats are almost identical creatures, so it's weird that the sympathetic/unsympathetic divide falls so consistently.

Mouse Guard is an American comic series about mice with little cloaks and swords. Making it be a comic is kind of a great idea because you get to see how cute they are at every turn. The mouse guard are responsible for defending the other mice from threats such as snakes. They have a pretty high mortality rate.

I'm... actually not super familiar with the comics, but they inspired a roleplaying game by the creators of Burning Wheel, using similar mechanics - e.g. its beliefs system, the simultaneous-resolution combat system. That got a lot of buzz around the late 2010s. So if you want a game to play as an rat at the tabletop, it's probably a good one to check out!

We might also at this juncture mention the wildly popular novel Watership Down, which imagines an elaborate rabbit society complete with a substantially fleshed out rabbit religion. I wrote about the animated film for Animation Night a couple years back - it's quite a memorable one.

Sadly, this is mostly mousefic (with a bit of weaselfic). I don't know of any true ratfic - centred on rats as protagonists. Perhaps this is an opportunity for someone out there to write ratfic ratfic to correct this imbalance.

edit: omfg i forgot the rats of NIMH. thanks to both the people who reminded me of that one

#fiction #novels

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bitchyycapricorn · 1 year

Text

Almost There

Peter Parker x Ghost!Reader

Chapter One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Wordcount: 1.7K

Synopsis: Peter enters his apartment that night expecting to find an empty bed. But instead, he comes face to face with your transparent glowing figure.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of sex, cheating, masterbation (M), mentions of death, mentions of murder, open wounds/cuts

AN: This part and future parts will contain graphic content! Not edited.

Peter looks at Ned for a moment, still trying to understand how any of this was possible. “We have to figure this out, meet me at my apartment at 4, we can start our research then.” Peter says before turning to leave.

“Wait, but we get out of classes today at 12, I can be there by at least 1, wouldn’t that work better?” Ned asks, not wanting to admit that he was overly excited for possibly cracking the case on what really happened.

Peter shook his head, throwing a glance over his shoulder, “No, you need to see Y/N after school. Don’t leave her alone it’s, it’s important to her. It already bothers her enough that we both decided to join a Saturday class last minute.” Ned watches as Peter starts heading back inside to see MJ. He could tell by his voice and the way he was walking that the separation was taking a real toll on Peter. Peter knew it too, even talking about you made his stomach turn and his mind wander back to your soft lips.

“So this neighbor girl,” MJ says as Peter sits back down next to her. “Is she pretty?”

Peter pauses, meeting MJ’s gaze. “Why do you ask?” He laughs nervously.

MJ hums, looking down at her book. “Well, we’ve been friends since high school, I’m your girlfriend now, and yet I’ve somehow never heard of this Y/N girl. It’s just strange is all.”

The guilty feeling from earlier starts to bubble up in Peter’s stomach again as he realizes that of course MJ would be uncomfortable with him talking to another girl. Wouldn’t he have a problem with her talking to a new guy without telling him? “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. Honestly she just wasn’t important enough to me, didn’t really think of mentioning her because I’m never thinking about her.” Peter lies, shifting his gaze down to his book as well.

“You seemed pretty interested when Ned had news about her though.” MJ counters.

Peter shrugs, trying his best to seem like he didn’t care about you. “Thought they finally got together.” Another lie.

MJ casts Peter another look before letting it go, “I believe you.” She presses a kiss to his lips, snuggling into his shoulder. Peter can feel his heart drop, he needs to get you taken care of so he can focus on MJ and MJ alone.

+++

“Hey sorry I’m late.” Ned says as he drops his bag on the floor. “Y/N and I were playing video games again, she’s like wicked good.”

Peter frowns, his eyes wandering over to the two controllers left abandoned near his TV. “Yeah she is pretty good..” his voice trails off a moment, thinking about you once again. “Not important though, we have some research to do.” Peter opens up his laptop, quickly searching up the elevator explosion eight years ago.

Ned’s eyes widen as he begins to read some of the headline articles. “Holy smokes dude, look at all of these. Six missing children? All before the elevator collapsed?”

Peter furrows his eyebrows, clicking on one of the links. “Parents of 11 year old Y/N L/N claim elevator collapse was a coverup, their daughter had been missing since 10 that morning….” Peter scrolls down a little more. “Ned..”

“Peter?” Ned asks, trying to find where Peter was in the article before pausing as well. “Oh…”

Peter reread the sentence again, “No bodies were found…police believe they disintegrated…that’s not, not possible.” Peter clicked out of the article, hopping over to another one. “They all say the same thing, children going missing, some almost a week prior to the accident.”

“Wait look,” Ned cut in, pointing to a paragraph on the screen. “Some of the children reported a game of hide and seek occurring when parents began questioning the whereabouts of their missing children. These reports were taken days before the accident.”

Peter sat back in his chair, his head swimming with questions. “The elevator was no accident. But then the question is, where did the children actually go? We know Y/N is, mostly dead. But she never mentioned the other kids being around here, and I haven’t ever seen them either.”

Ned gives a weak shrug, still scanning the information on the computer. “The only one who will have answers is Y/N, but she isn’t exactly too open to talking. She broke down when she started to open up about it last time.”

Peter gave a small sign, “Right.”

Clicking out of the article he continues to browse. Stumbling on dead end after dead end. His head began to hurt as the hours tick by. Ned eventually going to lay on Peter’s bed after about an hour of useless or repeated information. At about the four hour mark Peter stumbles upon a website that contains supposed video footage. “Hey Ned, come look at this.” Peter says, clicking on one of the videos. Ned stumbles over to the desk, leaning down so he can listen with Peter. The video appears to be taken in the lobby at night, the faint sounds of crying can be heard from what appears to be below the building. “This was taken a day before the elevator collapsed. The person recording had reported hearing voices of children coming from below the building.”

Ned looks over to Peter hesitantly “Peter you don’t think-“

“Y/N was murdered.”

+++

You hadn’t spoken to Peter in nearly a week, as far as you knew him and MJ were still a stupid happy couple that you never ever wanted to see again. The issue is, you still needed to move your stuff from under the floorboard into Ned’s room. Which is exactly why you decided now would be the best time to go retrieve your stuff while both Peter and Ned were at their Saturday afternoon class. You made your way through the walls and down to your old apartment, floating through the door and into the living room. You look around for a moment, wishing you could stay here once again.

Your attention was pulled away from the room by the sound of a soft moan followed by your name coming from Peter’s room. You furrow your eyebrows, floating through the wall and into his closet where you peak through the sliver once again. Through the crack you could see Peter, his head was thrown back on the pillows while his mouth was agape, his bedsheet barley covering his lower half.

“Ah fuck Y/N,” Peter groans, his hand slowly moving up and down his shaft, completely oblivious to your presence in the room. His actions had started as an innocent destresser really. He had skipped going to class today and opted to watch a movie in hopes of getting his mind off everything until he built up the confidence to talk to you again. But as his mind began to wander vivid thoughts of you kept reappearing over and over again. Your lips being the main focus, since he knew how they felt on his own. His mind of course only wandered from there. Now as he lay there slowly stroking himself all he can thing about was the way your body felt as he held you, and the way you touched his chest as you helped to sew him back up.

His pace got quicker, another grunt leaving his lips as he thrusted up into his hand slowly. “Peter?” You whisper, slowly stepping out of his closet. Peter’s eyes flew open, his head snapping to the direction of your voice.

“Oh my, fuck Y/N, what are you?” Peter stutters, pulling the covers closer to his body.

Your eyes slowly scan Peters body, “You were saying my name.”

Peter’s eyes met yours, his face turning a bright shade of red realizing there was nothing he could say at this point. “I didn’t, I’m sorry it just happened. I was so, and you’re so, and you’re all I can think about.”

You took a step closer to Peter, allowing your body to go solid. A rush of feelings suddenly washes over you, your stomach doing a small flip while the rest of you felt tingly. “Peter do you like me?” Your voice came out just barley a whisper, but he could hear you perfectly.

“I-“ he stutters.

“If I took my cloths off and joined you…would you object?”

Peter’s mind went blank, suddenly you were the only person there with him. Sitting up a little more he shook his head ‘no.’ “You can, I want you to,”

A small smile spreads across your face as you grab the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up and off your body.

Peter’s eyes widen “Holy shit,” he says, quickly slipping back on his boxers under the bed. He stumbles out from under the covers approaching ing you quickly. His eyes scan your now mostly topless figure. “What, what happened?” His finger slowly traces the cuts on your stomach.

You look down as well, your eyebrows furrowing at the sight. “I-I don’t know.” You say slowly. The cuts weren’t scars, but rather marks that appear to have simply stopped bleeding, but never scabbed up or healed.

“Y/N, what really happened to you?” Peter says slowly, his finger brushing the wounds.

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, “I really don’t know Peter. I don’t remember anything, not really. I remember the people saying that there was an accident with the elevator, I remember there being others, I remember..” you pause, looking behind you at the closet. “Under the floorboard…” you whisper.

Peter follows your gaze to the closet, removing his hand from your abdomen. He moves slowly towards the closet, opening it fully so he can look down at the floorboards clearly.

“Can you see it? Where it does not fit all the way?” You ask quietly. Peter nods, kneeling down to pry the board from the floor. He struggles with it for a moment before you hear it pop open. He looks down, reaching in to pick up a picture laying face down.

Peter slowly turns it over in his hand, his whole body freezing up at the sight. “What did he do to you?” Is all he’s able to say, as he stares at the fading image.

+++

TAGLIST

@dandelionqueen @etaerealboy

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thrashkink-coven · 3 months

Text

I’m currently rereading the Bible because Lord Lucifer asked me to, and reading this book now that I have context and understanding from the cultures that surrounded them (Egypt, Canaanites, etc because there’s a ton), it becomes increasingly and blatantly clear, or at least throughout Genesis so far, that this book was definitely written as an explanation for why the Israelites deserve to own the land of Canaan. I don’t want to get too into my personal opinions on a holy book, I don’t like it obviously, but it’s a cultural story, fine cool.

But its so incredibly obvious that there’s a very deliberate way things are written, why are we talking about how much gold is in Havaliah (modern day Sudan) on page 3 of Genesis??? Such a strange detail unless you consider that this book was being used to sell Canaan to the Isrealites. Certain details are oddly placed, especially in regards to the land and the natives, which Abraham really doesn’t like. Keep in mind that at this point there have been no mention of why the Cannanites are so evil, like yes, we know the normal human sacrifices and sex rituals but none of that has even been mentioned yet. Abraham seems to just be an incredibly xenophobic Isrealite who thinks he deserves to own the entire land because God told him he did. Which like, again, not my place to say whether God really did or didn’t. But I keep reading things like “I would never marry one of these LOCAL CANAANITE WOMEN! I could never let one of my sons marry these LOCAL CANAANITE WOMEN! Marry your cousin instead! My sons will conquer this land and I will have thousands upon thousands of descendants!”

It also makes me extremely uncomfortable the amount of times God says blatantly “do this for me and I’ll make sure you have a fuck ton of kids”. Like thats always the promise, if you do what he says you’ll have thousands of descendants. Isn’t that…? Idk. It’s not like we’re seeing great displays of faith here. Abraham gets everything he wants immediately so he’s not being tested by anything. Big guy says “I’m going to make you famous” and then Abraham gets famous and has way too many children. These entire first few chapters after the flood are just Abraham getting literally everything he wants and being kind of weird towards his sons.

This entire first few chapters are extremely supremacist and ownership-y. As someone who hates the concept of land ownership it makes me feel uncomfortable. Because like… nobody owns the Earth ykwim? You don’t just get to take an entire land. What gives you the right? And the constant idea that they must destroy and conquer all others, even those within your own family.

Like, “the ground you are lying on BELONGS TO YOU” I fucking hate that.

Anyways, I’ll probably keep sharing more fuckery as I find it but so far, first chapter is a fat 0/10 stars. Most Christians don’t consider the old testament to be very relevant to us today anyways, so there’s that. Hopefully the new testament will be better!

#bible #religion

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robinsno1lesbian · 1 year

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I LOVE Neighbor!Robin😭, I was wondering if you could write some fluff? Like a cute summer date or something?

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 - 𝐑.𝐁.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2033 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mainly just sweet fluff, implied period typical homophobia, first "i love you", might be slightly repetitive because i started writing it yesterday and then picked it up again today without rereading it lmao

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: ofc anon! i feel like the majority of my requests have been smutty ones (not complaining!!), so y'all whores are in need of some refreshing fluff!! also, you don't have to be familiar with the whole neighbor!robin concept to read this! (i feel like it turned out more robin coded than neighbor!robin anyway, i hope you don't mind! :) )

"this is perfect" she announces with a spread of her arms as if to emphasize her point.

"it looks like this everywhere" you chuckle when you finally reach her. she was been walking at a rapid pace, scanning the surroundings of lovers lake for the best possible picnic spot. she has found it, as it seems.

robin crosses her arms over her thin, white flannel.

"that is so not true," she says and shakes her head "i mean just look at how soft the grass is here or...or the view. i doubt there is any other spot with this view"

you chuckle to yourself and hold up the hem of your summer dress to avoid tripping over.

"alright then, show me what you've got"

robin had refused to show you everything that she had packed for this. she hadn't even told you about her plans of taking you on a date until you had gotten to her place.

that's where you have found her in the driver's seat of her truck, waving you over and telling you all about how she was going to take you on your first actual date.

the drive to lovers lake had been filled with complaints and apologies on her end.

how sorry she was for never taking you out on a proper date before and how summer was the perfect season for going out together.

"couple's activities" was the term she'd used.

but you know she is right; you never actually went out on dates.

maybe it was hawkins, or the 80s, surely it had to do with the fact that you were both women who shared an 'unnatural' kind of love -as some people claimed.

perhaps it was a strange mixture of all of the above that lead to the fact that she had never taken you out before.

you could never know who you might run into, who was watching whenever she linked your fingers together.

your love was limited to the times when you were all alone, sheltered by the walls of either her or your own house.

standing by her side, out in the open, feels odd enough.

you know how much she longs for this. how she wants to love you for the world to see rather than playing a game of pretending you are not all she has ever needed.

you know you're no different.

loving her in the suffocating silence is killing you. you want to love robin buckley loudly, with no shame to the way your heart flutters whenever her blue eyes find yours.

and while this might be not that much of a big thing, just a picnic, it is the beginning of something that neither of you has ever experienced before.

there is pride in the way you take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze.

robin smiles and lowers herself to the ground, reaching for the basket.

she really has thought of everything and you get a feeling like she might've planned this beforehand.

after you helped her set up the blanket, she reveals all the food she has brought and sets it all up on the blanket while you watch in awe.

"why are you watching me?" she grins over her shoulder, kneeling over the basket with a box of strawberries in her hands.

"i- uh-" you blush.

"do you at least like what you're so shamelessly gaping at?"

"oh i do" you give a quick glance around. it's still rather early and there isn't anyone in sight, so you put your lips to hers gently and run your thumb over her cheeks.

she kisses you back immediately, almost like she's been waiting for you to finally do so.

you can feel her smile against your skin, can feel her breath tickling your face when she practically throws herself on you.

you yelp when you're pushed into the blanket gently. the fabric has already warmed up and feels comforting against the skin of your back, bare due to the cut of your dress.

robin lingers above you for a minute, peppering kisses all over your face until you have your nose scrunched up and your eyes closed while you're laughing over the tickling sensation.

"it tickles" you finally manage and she leans back.

"that's the point...now will you let me unpack this without staring like a creep or...?"

"can't make any promises" you chuckle and shift yourself closer to where she is now sitting, wrap your arms around her and cling to her while she finishes the setup.

she looks over her shoulder occasionally to find that you're still watching. she can't complain though, not when she can see the adoration beaming in your eyes.

once she is done, it looks like a picture straight out of the many dreams you've had.

one that is put together with so much love and care that you want to kiss her again already.

instead, you lean back on your palms and let the sun shine upon your face with both eyes closed.

it's warm, not the kind of pressing heat that will fall upon hawkins all so soon, but just right.

there's a little breeze in addition to that, blowing through your hair and the grass growing all around you.

it's perfect. everything is perfect right in this moment.

"enjoying yourself sweetheart?"

you open one eye to look at her when you hum in response.

she is holding out the box of strawberries to you. and, as delicious as they look, you don't reach out.

you just open your mouth instead and robin grins.

she picks up a berry, holds it between her index and thumb and let's it dangle down over your mouth.

"open up"

you do as you're told and bite off the lower part of the fruit, leaving nothing but the stem and bits of it left in her hand.

it tastes sweet on your tongue and bits of the juices run down your chin. you reach out but robin is quicker and collects them on her fingers and wipes them away.

you swallow and open your mouth again immediately.

"is that how we're gonna do it now?" robin laughs.

"what? you don't wanna feed me with strawberries all day long?" your eyes widen in mock horror.

"not quite how i envisioned our day but if that's what you want..." she picks another one up and repeats the process of dangling it down over you.

only that this time, when you reach out to bite it off, she yerks her hand away.

"hey!" you exclaim playfully.

you try to take it away from her hand with your mouth but she just holds it farther out of reach from you.

"you want something?"

"the strawberry" you whine, attempting to get a hold of her wrist now but failing miserably,

"oh this?" she holds it closer just for a second.

"of course this"

you're slowly losing your patience and, without further consideration, throw yourself after the fruit.

but robin, clumsy when the occasion least calls for it, is quicker this time and catches your arm in your attempt.

you gasp when she spins both of your bodies around and lays herself down on top of you, arms pinned above your head.

"easy" she grins while using her free hand to take the strawberry between her front teeth.

"you-" you're about to complain but she's already leaning down, offering half of it to you.

"oh" finally you understand and meet her halfway.

you bite down on it but not without leaning so far in that your lips are on each other, sharing a kiss that tastes like berries and summer.

"you're so sweet" she whispers, spitting the stem out in her palm.

her eyes are only on yours this whole time, studying your facial features in the light.

you blush at the compliment and try to hide away your face but she takes your hands gently.

"don't hide"

from that point on, hours pass by like minutes. you seem to lose all track of time around her, but it is even better like this: when you're doing it together, under the warmth of the summer that is right around the corner and there isn't a worry in the world.

you sleep with her sunglasses shielding your eyes and wake to the sound of her snoring beside you, a hat shoved over her eyes since you have taken her glasses.

you braid her blonde her while she is asleep, combing through it with your fingers before putting it all out of her face, leaving only her bangs out.

when she finally wakes, you're on your belly, reading through the book she has brought for herself.

you don't even notice until you eye over, expecting to see her sleeping it finding her attentive glare on you.

she's laying on her side, head in her hand and a smile on her lips.

one minute it's that and the next, you're chasing each other all the way down to the shore of lover's lake, sprinting over the soft sand and through the soft waves of water that are splashing up your legs while you're trying to grab her arm.

you're making a mess of your white dress, its hem all wet from the lake. but your belly already hurts from all the laughter and robin is only mere inches away from you. you can't give up now, can you?

your legs carry you further and further never giving up until she has led you all the way back to your spot where she finally comes to a halt.

"god you're fast" you groan.

robin makes up though, lets you lay in her lap so that you and your clothes can dry while she is making a flower crown made of daisies for you.

her fingers occasionally brush through your hair, making sure you haven't drifted off to sleep again which you confirm with a smile on your lips.

eventually, she places the finished flower crown on your head. her smile tells you she's pleased with how it has turned out.

with your head still on her thighs, she bends over and kisses your forehead.

"you're so pretty" she whispers. "so pretty"

you open your eyes and they meet hers. upside down, but recognizable out of a million different pairs.

her palm strokes your cheek and her index draws small circles all over it.

"you're really pretty too, i-"

"i love you" robin breathes. it's barely audible and for a split second you're unsure whether you have just imagined it or not.

but the look on her face, one that is suddenly nervous and somewhat fearful, gives away that this hasn't been just your imagination playing tricks on you.

you sit up slowly.

"what did you say?"

"i- i said- uhm...i said i love you" she mutters and turns her gaze away.

there is genuine fear in her eyes now, as if there was something to be scared of. as if she really believes that you are not head over heels for her.

"oh robin"

"i'm sorry i don't know how that just- slipped out. should i- i mean- sorry i should've waited for a better moment but you looked so pretty and i thought-"

you want to hear what she has to say, you really do, but you can't stand to hear how afraid she seems to be.

so, before she can finish her rambling, you already raise your voice.

"i love you too"

"what?"

"i love you too"

her eyes soften and it seems like a weight is lifted off of her shoulders.

"oh thank god" she exhales.

"thank god?" you repeat with a chuckle "you should be, i don't know? all over me? kissing me like super dramatically and you-"

you are cut off by her lips on yours. robin crashes them together forcefully and you're taken aback slightly but return the kiss the second her hands wrap around your body.

all you'll ever want is for robin buckley to hold you by the lake, flower crown in your hair, and the lips of the woman you love on your own...eternal bliss.

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fluff #neighbor!robin x reader #older!neighbor!robin x reader #older!neighbor!robin buckley #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

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vraisetzen · 9 days

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https://www.tumblr.com/vraisetzen/760495338592272384/httpswwwtumblrcomvraisetzen75994414665714892?source=share

Oh, your answers to these questions are absolutely brilliant. I reread them earlier today.

I adore the way in which you crafted this world and the ease with which you navigate this world.

Firstly, you are so fantastic at characterising every single character in your stories. Even Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma feel fleshed out.

Secondly, I adore the little details that you put into this story. Michikatsu creating a wooden horse for the little boy? How adorable. The little boy wanting to steal the snacks? I’ve observed this behaviour one too many times in my nephew. Clinging to Sanemi like a bear cub? That made me giggle! 😁

Thirdly, your… attention to the historical period is really impressive. Personally, I found your exploration of how Michikatsu’s an old soul in the modern world to be utterly fascinating. Of course he’d feel that way! And Michikatsu disappearing in his study or the forest makes sense! I can’t even imagine the level of alienation he must feel — feeling it on two fronts, first by being human once again, and secondly by being displaced centuries forward.

The idea of Michikatsu working in a bookshop is adorable. Do you imagine he’d also just… read during his working hours when no one visited to learn more about the modern world? He’s also… such an impressive man visually, so imagine if he’d attract a gaggle of people visiting this bookshop just to ogle at the superhumanly attractive giant of a man?? 🤭

The interaction with Tanjiro is super interesting and I think it’s hilarious how Tengen let slip the location of Reader’s residence so many times. Would Reader then end up meeting with Tanjiro alone? Without Michikatsu?

And Sanemi’s wedding!!! I actually really, really enjoyed reading that extract! I LOVE the way you wrote it. I think you chose some really cool descriptions to describe the affair!

And the interaction at the end between Reader and Sanemi… my breath hitched in anticipation! And to have it end on that note, with Sanemi saying this remark… I thought it was brilliant. And you know what? As I read it, I thought… you know what? Sanemi would say that. (Also the detail of Reader resembling Shinobu and Sanemi clocking that was fascinating. I wonder what Reader’s relationship with the rest of the butterfly girls was/is like.)

(Also, since Michikatsu takes care of Amato during the wedding… do you think he gets on well with children? Or rather, that he enjoys their company?)

Can I also give a special shout-out to your writing in general? I think you’re currently my favourite writer on Tumblr. I really enjoy reading your writing style. You use some of the most mature, thought-stimulating imagery in the most effective of ways. I love that plotting seems to come easy to you. I love how your writing reflects how observant you are about the world. I love how you’re able clearly and distinguishably grant each character their own special essence, making all of them feel distinct and different.

Whenever I read your continuations of ‘Notte Stellata’, I always get super excited. I think it may be one of the most memorable fan fictions I’ve ever read? I read it weeks ago and I keep on thinking about it. You’re actually the only reason why I check Tumblr in the first place — I don’t have any reason to be on here otherwise.

Thank you for writing these brilliant extracts and for indulging us in making us learn more about the wonderful world of this story.

Oh gosh, Anon — you're far too kind and thoughtful with your responses too! (And I apologise for getting to your Ask this late; each of your questions were too good for me to give a simple reply!)

First of all, I'm glad that you liked the excerpt! I certainly did enjoy imagining the various scenarios and what exactly Michikatsu would do in this strange new world; as I mentioned in a different Ask, I did wonder if he would be a kendo instructor, or perhaps a craftsman, but somehow, a librarian/bookstore assistant felt the most true to my interpretation of Kokushibo.

I would imaging the bookstore owner, Tanaka-san as being quite kindly and lenient to his new assistant; Kokushibo could lose himself for hours in a book, especially if it is one he has not read. While Western books began to be imported into Japan during the Kyoho era of Tokugawa Yoshimune's reign, he did not have the time to fully appreciate them then, being so occupied with refining his swordsmanship. Now, he, as a human, he finds himself occasionally distracted by the occasional foreign title: The Sorrows of Young Werther, Cartesian metaphysics, and even a sprinkle of fables and fairytales. He is intrigued by the foreign language and distant environs, and their morals which seem at once familiar yet alien; occasionally, Tanaka-san allows him to bring them home, and the Reader would find him in their sitting room, seated by the candelight, with his book propped on the reading stand and a cup of tea beside him.

It is an endearing sight to behold; his grand stature towering over the stand which seems almost miniature in comparison. He does not even notice the Reader coming into the room, and settling down beside him to steal a glance at what has him so engrossed.

"It's getting late," you remarked, leaning your head on his shoulder. Michikatsu keeps his eyes on the page as he extended an arm around your waist, tugging you flushed against his side.

"Just one more chapter," he murmured, turning the page. He does not notice you gazing up at him, taking in his profile and the way his lashes cast a slanted shadow across his cheek. In the candle's glow, he looked serene and contemplative, his expression a touch softer than when he was seated before a Go board.

His appearance at the bookstore, of course, draws many curious eyes, who at first believed Michikatsu to be a bodyguard hired to ward off shoplifters. While he did not speak much, leaving the socialising and idle chatter to Tanaka-san, it was difficult for one to ignore his presence.

The children, in particular, seemed taken by his appearance; at first, they were intimidated by Michikatsu's height and quiet nature, preferring to spy on him while he went about his tasks. And for most part, he was fine with them looking at him; in his past he had been a father after all, and he did not think it strange to help them if needed.

"You go first." Michikatsu heard a hushed whisper while he unpacked a stack of old books for the rental section.

"No, you go first!" another voice argued. "You lost the bet, remember?"

"Yeah, go for it, Gen!" egged another.

Michikatsu pretended to be absorbed in his work even as he spied one of the children — Gen, no doubt — emerging from their corner. The little boy swallowed thickly as he shuffled forward, bumping his index fingers together as he asked:

"Uh... mister," he started, looking at Michikatsu. Flicking his eyes downward, he saw Gen take a step back as if in alarm, but the young boy persisted, jutting a chubby finger at the tail of his long hair, where silky black gave way to tips of scarlet "Is, uh, your hair — is it real?"

Michikatsu placed the books down, before nodding: "Yes, it is."

"He speaks!" one of the remaining two would exclaim, before running out of the store in a gaggles of giggles. Gen cried in alarm as he was left behind, the lollipop in his hand nearly falling out of his grasp while he chased his friends down the corner.

Looking with amusement at their small, disappearing backs as they hot-footed down the streets, Michikatsu wondered — with a small, pensive smile — when the time would come for him to look on at his children with you.

This was only one such encounter Michikatsu had at the bookstore — one he did not mind, especially when compared to the other: the older ladies who also heard about a young man working for Tanaka-san, and gained a sudden interest in the works of Murasaki Shikibu and Ono no Komachi.

"My, aren't you a tall one!" they marvelled.

Most of the time, Michikatsu was more than happy to help the older ladies with their romance novels and poems on the top shelf — the townsfolk, it seemed, were endlessly enamoured of his height. And if they had any questions about his scars, and curiously sharp canines, they made no comment, preferring to steer the conversation quickly to other more pressing topics:

"Are you married, young man? I happen to know a charming young lady who would make a very lovely wife for you," they asked.

Michikatsu arched a single, sardonic brow, but kept his eyes firmly on the books as he arranged all six volumes of the Kojidan. "Yes."

"Oh, and what does she do for a living?" they pressed. "Or does she tend to the household?"

Nothing of your concern, was the reply that came most naturally to him. Instead, he offered: "She paints. Occasionally."

"Ah, an artist," they said, a note of derision masked behind a thin veneer of courtesy.

In a different time, Michikatsu would have been unaffected by their tone, but at the moment a spark of irritation flared in his chest, and he was compelled to add:

"Yes, and a rather splendid one."

It is at this point that the doors to the bookstore open with the faint twinkle of chimes, and you, carrying a roll of kimono and a box wrapped in a furoshiki of green and black checks, floated in, looking a little windswept and out of breath.

"Tanaka-san," you greeted, settling the box down on his counter. "I hope I'm not bothering you."

"Of course not!" the old man said, peering over his newspaper to search for Kokushibo. "He should be down the third aisle."

You nodded with a polite grin, ready to set off, but Michikatsu surprised you by emerging first. He wore a cryptic expression as he paced towards you in long strides, before suddenly picking up your hand.

"My dearest," he said by way of greeting, kissing each of your knuckles with a firm press of his warm lips. Your eyes are as wide as saucers as you blinked in confusion at the very sudden, very public show of affection; Michikatsu was a generous lover, yes — but only in private where only you knew the depth of his passions.

"D-danna-sama?" you stuttered, a little lost for words as Tanaka-san chuckled behind his papers. Had he been reading too many of those Western novels? Sordid tales from the likes of Moll Flanders and Don Juan?

Then, you spied a small shape emerging from the aisle — a middle-aged lady dressed in Western clothes, who seemed rather annoyed with Michikatsu. Glancing up at your husband, you enquired with your eyes as to what happened, but he only smiled, and remained silent.

"And what is that?" Michikatsu asked, casting his eyes toward the box.

"Oh," you said, and elaborated no further.

Because, by another strange twist of fate, the Reader had bumped into Kamado Tanjiro whilst collecting Michikatsu's new clothes from the kimono store.

After sending her reply to Tanjiro, the Reader had casted aside her worries about visiting the young man as she fretted over other important matters: making pickles for the winter, registering Michikatsu's name at the city hall — a small part of her, perhaps, wondered if Tanjiro had dropped the matter as she did not receive further correspondence from the young man.

What she did not expect, however, was someone calling her name the moment she emerged from the kimono store with Michikatsu's new clothes bundled in her arms.

Turning around, you came face to face with Kamado Tanjiro, who waved his wasted, shrunken arm with enthusiasm as he bounded towards you. The alarm bells clanging in your head drowned out his greeting while you eyes darted around the vicinity for any place to which you could excuse herself — the bank, perhaps? Or the apothecary?

You were ashamed of yourself for avoiding Tanjiro like this, truly — but the young man, who now stood before you, breathless as he puffed small clouds of fog, was as jovial as ever. He asked: "It's so nice to meetyou here! I was just wondering if I should visit your place some time this week?"

"You were?" you asked, instead of returning his greeting. Your knuckles were white as you tightened your grip on Michikatsu's clothes, but you stretched your lips in a tight, polite grin nonetheless.

Tanjiro nodded, and scratched the scar on his forehead absent-mindedly. "But I suppose that would be a little rude of me, wouldn't it?"

"Ah, well..." you said, unsure of what to say even if you did agree with him. Tanjiro spied the fabrics you were carrying — the dark colours, the masculine, geometric designs. There was little mystery as to who these clothes were meant for; it was common knowledge that you were orphaned and had been living alone until your "illness", as Lady Amane had so kindly told them. You gulped as he looked up at you.

"I hope I'm not intruding," Tanjiro began, as you waited with bated breath for his next sentence. "But I'm just glad that you're doing well, especially since we heard so little about what happened to you before-"

Just then, a young woman, petite and dainty, bounded to Tanjiro's side. With a start, you realised that it was Tsuyuri Kanao — she was dressed in a pink kimono embroidered with small white flowers, with a matching kanzashi that tinkered as she looked lovingly at Tanjiro. Uzui had spoken of an engagement between the two, but it had been so long since you had seen her that the couple still came as a surprised to you.

The stiff smile in your cheeks gave way to something more natural, and you found yourself saying: "Kanao-chan — I hope all is well with you?"

"Senpai," Kanao answered, and you were surprised to hear her soft but strong voice, for she has never spoken to you at the Butterfly Mansion. "It's wonderful seeing you again."

"Kanao-chan and I will be getting married next fall," Tanjiro explained. "It would be great if you could come. It's not special, of course, and it would be held at the Butterfly Mansion with the others-"

"Kiyo, Naho, and Sumi would all be delighted to see you too," Kanao finished. "After all the lessons you gave them on drawing and watercolours. I think they would be pleased to show you their progress."

"Though, of course, if you're busy..." Tanjiro added, waving his bony hand in the direction of Michikatsu's clothes. At their warm words, you felt your grip loosened as well as you straightened yourself, and shook your head.

"No, I'll be there," you promised, looking at each of their young faces, and feeling a clench in your chest as you meet Kanao's clouded eyes and Tanjiro's sightless one on his right. After all that did Shinobu did for you, this was the only thing you could — should — do, for the both of them in return. "With my husband."

And perhaps Tanjiro might known it all along, and was only waiting for you reveal — as he had always been a considerate soul — there was a knowing gleam in his eye as he matched his smile with yours, and nodded.

Then, suddenly and rather flustered, he asked if Kanao had something they could give you; and despite your best efforts to reject their gift, Tanjiro pushed a small heavy box into your hand, claiming that it was nothing much, but that he wished you would enjoy this small gesture.

At present, Michikatsu surveyed the bento, unknotting the cloth and lifting the lid. You watched his expression closely as he gazed at its contents, taking a small sniff.

"Tara-no-me," he observed, closing the box with a small grimace. "They're rare around this time of the year."

"You can still find them in the mountains if you know where to look," shared Tanaka-san from behind his papers. "It's rather green and bitter, but very delicious if prepared well."

Michikatsu frowned as he tied the cloth around the pot. Then, ever so slightly, he pushed the box in your direction, letting you know that he would not be eating it.

"Sounds wonderful to me," you remarked, hoisting the box back in your arms.

I hope this answers your question, Anon! Sorry if it was a little bit of a hodgepodge, but I couldn't resist writing a little scene that mashed everything together instead of it being small separate parts~ Your questions were truly thoughtful and I'm so glad that you took the time to consider my writing! I'm always happy to write more for Koku and the Reader ☺️

xoxo, V ♥️

#ask box #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kokushibo #kokushibo x reader #kokushibob x you #kokushibo x reader insert #kamado tanjiro #kanao tsuyuri

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o2studies · 5 months

Text

I want to stay more consistent. Falling away just once tends to have a big butterfly effect of falling away from everything for me (hence the end to my 100dop), so, yesterday:

༻`` 3 May 24 — Friday 29/60

🧡 academia >> Only studied chemsitry for 7mins but I finished my first exam!! It was a chemsitry practical one and I think it went well!! ^^ Did my art work in study today so I could continue working on it and socialise with my non-art friends

🧡 physical health >> I did a couple pushups

🧡 self care >> I was exhausted after the exam so later in chemsitry I played cards with my friends and let myself relax at home. I also cuddled my dogs some more and said no to ice cream (I had more earlier plus other snacks)

☀️ 7 🌙 after 10

Also I only missed 3 days of #nodalchallenge and I thought I missed a lot more so my motivation's slightly up! It's good to reread old posts, journal entries, diaries, look at old photos and conversations. For me anyway, I can get so caught up in the present moment and how badly it's going, feeling even worse with the fact that I remember being so much more consistent and productive and more disciplined and whatever other good stuff I thought. But really looking back I get to see how many bad and horrible days I also had AND how I still managed to bring myself up once again. It's a strange feeling to be inspired by yourself but it's also so nice <3

I hope you all get inspired by and take more comfort in yourselves more often :)

#studyblr #dark academia #light academia #chaotic academia #student #study motivation #study inspiration #o2life #nodalchallenge #physical health #academia #self care #art #chemistry #consistency #self reflection #self love #productivity

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pearlywritings · 2 years

Text

Let us take this pain and shed it away

synopsis: The text you recieve from your husband makes you restless, worried of what could possibly happen for the man to be so terse in his message and who that ‘fourth person’ he is talking about can possibly be. As it turns out it is someone very dear to both of you, someone who is in a desperate need of comfort.

pairing and characters: Zhongli x fem!reader, Xiao (the Rex-Lapis family), Hu Tao.

tw: hurt/comfort, modern AU, University AU, established relationship

word count: 5.4k+ words

a/n: was listening to Continued Story by Hitomi Kuroishi while writing. The fitting song in my opinion.

Also a part of my University modern AU with history professor Zhongli

Just one more hour you thought, straightening in your chair and flexing your shoulders, just one more hour and you could go home.

Work was quite slow today and you weren't even that tired, eyes scanning through another document as you gave your body some light exercising. A pain in the neck and back was honestly such a pain in another place, and while you did love Zhongli's strong fingers massaging your tense muscles after a couple of long days at work, you didn't want to abuse his kindness too often, so you were really pondering over the question: should you ask him for one today or not.

Speaking of Zhongli… This husband of yours had been exceptionally quiet today - you knew he had his phone with him (oh his tendency to leave it at home sometimes, forgetting to get it from recharging) and usually he'd message you something on his bigger breaks - but today your phone buzzed just once - when you both arrived to work and notified each other about doing so safely.

Well, he was a very busy professor, it honestly could be anything: a meeting, extra time taken from breaks to explain some more if students asked for it and so on… maybe even all at once!

Suppressing a rising groan you reached for the phone to make a work-related call, when the device vibrated suddenly. The name of your beloved appeared on the screen along with a picture of him with Xiao and Ganyu from the last time she came to visit during the University break of hers.

But a message from him, finally!

You didn't wait long to unlock your screen and tap the chat with him. At first your face lit up with joy. Though upon reading just the beginning of his message it changed to confusion, until you reached the end of it and pure concern overtook your features.

"I'll be home later. I know it's my turn, but please, be so kind as to get Xiao from his evening classes and cook dinner for four people. I'll explain everything once we arrive.

Love you."

Now that was strange. You reread the message a few more times, even waited a couple of minutes, hoping to get one more message, that'd bring the light upon the situation at least a little bit. But nothing.

Wrecking your brain back and forth in attempts to predict the possible reason behind the message you, nevertheless, typed back an "of course, dear. Be safe, see you later. Love you too", before putting the phone back on your working table. Then picking it up back again, almost having forgotten there were calls to make. You wouldn't question your husband and think about all of it much until he came home and explained everything. After all, you trusted him and something told you patience was the best you could do at the moment.

Two and a half hours later you were standing in the kitchen, stirring the vegetables in a pan and glancing at your phone occasionally, only to see no new messages every time you checked. Four people, four people… No, your daughter couldn't be the one, you knew your husband, if it was a surprise there'd be some sort of slip because of Zhongli's excitement, but there was clearly none. Not to mention it is the middle of her semester. Oh, but what if something bad happened and that's why she arrived?? Oof…

"Mom?" Suddenly a voice brought you back from a worrying brooding that overtook your mind, so engrossed in thoughts that you almost burnt the vegetables. Turning off the stove and then around you spotted your eight-year old son in the doorway.

"Yes, dear?" You hummed, moving the pan to another hob. The boy walked into the kitchen, ember eyes trained on your hands and, only when you reached for the towel to wipe them clean, moved his gaze to your face.

"I did my homework. Where is dad? He was supposed to come home an hour ago."

Oh yes, you'd like to know the answer to that question yourself. Glancing at the phone again gave you nothing and you sighed. You had no idea when Zhongli was going to arrive home, and honestly the uncertainty started to slowly kill you, but you didn't want it to put the same pressure on Xiao. So you opted for gently petting his hair to praise him for finishing his tasks so fast.

"Dad is going to be soon, baby. But if you are hungry, I can feed you now, I have everything almost ready."

Your son lowered his gaze for a moment thinking, but the loud rumbling of his stomach the next moment was a dead give away.

"Go wash your hands, I'll serve you your portion."

You didn't miss the small embarrassed pout on the boy's face before he scurried away to the bathroom. Oh baby, you smiled softly, turning to the cabinet to grab some plates, there was nothing wrong with that.

Ten minutes later the boy was stuffing his cheeks with dinner, swinging his legs and telling you about his day at school. Everything felt normal, and you almost convinced yourself there was no piece missing, despite an empty chair at the table. Xiao's soft voice, muffled by food, enveloped your senses like a small blanket, and you put your chin on a fist, a fond look not leaving your eyes, watching your son, who resembled his father so much with soft brown locks and liquid gold eyes, that curiously stared back at you.

"Mom, why aren't you eating?"

"Huh?" You snapped out of the daze and dropped your gaze to your plate that, indeed, was barely touched and slowly getting cold.

"Just spaced out a little, sorry, baby. You were saying?" You offered a smile, encouraging him to resume the retelling of today's event. Though you could clearly tell there was doubt written all over his face - he was always a sensitive baby - he did not comment anyhow on your strange behavior and just carried on.

This time you stayed more focused and Xiao's words even managed to pull your attention from the ever silent device, resting on the table just mere inches away from you. There was even an occasional giggle passing your lips whenever your boy mentioned something hilarious, or your eyes widened a little in wonder if he spoke of something new he learnt.Yes, everything finally became quite peaceful. Until it wasn’t.

You heard the doorbell ring and the sound echoed off the walls in a suddenly silent kitchen, and just like that all worries came back at you. The pace of the heart quickened, pumping blood with intensity, though you tried to keep yourself under control. You almost missed Xiao calling for you and asking if you were alright.

No you weren't. Not until you knew what was going on and the anticipation was gnawing at your mind at the moment.

"I am fine, baby," of course you couldn't admit it to him, standing up and giving the boy your best smile. "I'll go check if it's daddy. Go on with your food."

You saw how his arm flinched in a clear attempt to move to follow you, but yet stopping himself before his whole body was set in motion. A frown on his face though was evident now and molten gold in eyes turned sharp; he could clearly tell that something got you worked up and the nature of it wasn't necessarily good.

Before he changed his mind about staying in his seat, you bent down to place a quick peck to his cheek and just as fast you were out of the kitchen.

Behind the front door there was almost no sound, which made your stomach flip. Hesitant to peak in a peephole, you opted to take a deep breath and ask, as calmly as you could.

"Who's there?”

A beat of silence and the heart drumming in your ears was deafening, beating against the ribcage like a crazy, freedom-thirsty bird. Another second ticked, and it became unbearable, nerve-wrecking, you chewed on your lips, fingers twitching, a thought of just yanking the door open flicking in your brain.

God, say something-

"It’s me, darling."

Everything stopped. The sounds, the movements, the thoughts. The only thing registering was a smooth and so dearly familiar voice of your husband that made your whole body slump in relief, as if a huge weight was taken from your shoulders.

“But I must warn you I have a guest here with m-”

Not giving him a chance to finish, you swiftly unlock the door and swing it open, letting the light from the hall illuminate two figures - one bigger and one smaller. Zhongli pursed his lips shut, when he saw a worried expression on your face, that soon became puzzled, as you finally realized who the fourth person the man was talking about was.

Hu Tao.

A vivacious girl in her early twenties, whom you treated like a dear niece ever since Zhongli first introduced her to you as the daughter of his old friends. She occasionally came by to hang out with Ganyu, even though the two sometimes finished their playdate with whining and complaining, because Ganyu was tired and wanted to nap and Hu Tao had way too much energy and mischief in her body to rest. She became an even more special guest after her parents passed away in a car accident around the time both her and your daughter were finishing middle and starting high school. Zhongli volunteered to help her grandpa look after her instantly and you supported that decision with all your might, always happy to see the girl in your house and providing her with comfort whenever she needed.

And by the look of it, today was just the case.

Brightly colored eyes didn’t hold the same gleam they usually did, and the way she was holding onto your husband’s coat draped around her shoulders told you of the stress she was under.

Yet nevertheless she tried to force a smile upon meeting your gaze.

"Hey, Mrs Rex-Lapis," her voice sounded so small, but she even gave you her usual wave of a hand, though it came out so meekly, your heart clenched in pain.

"Sweety,” softly you stepped forward and gently enveloped her in a hug, it felt crucial to do so, “It’s just Y/N or auntie for you. We've talked about it so many times, no need to be so formal with me, alright?”

All she did was nodding against your shoulder. Zhongli carefully guided you two inside, not wanting to break this embrace just yet, and slowly closed and locked the door behind. Just as carefully he peeled his coat off of her trembling frame - how didn’t you notice that? - and hung it in a wardrobe, along with his scarf and hat.

Then his palm found its place on her back, soothingly rubbing up and down, comforting her for something you weren’t aware of. He didn’t forget to kiss your cheek, murmuring a small “hello” against your skin, redirecting his eyes to the girl almost immediately.

“Why don’t you go and wash your hands, dear? We’ll have some food heated for you, okay?”

Just like the first time she didn’t utter a word, only nodding, and the action seemed so lifeless to you, lacking the usual spark, a quick jerk of her chin she used to communicate ‘positive’.

Now everything felt like slow motion. She drew herself from you reluctantly, lowering her eyes. Not even bending she used her feet to kick the shoes off and then quite literally dragged them to where your bathroom was down the hall. Only when she closed the door and water started running, you turned to Zhongli, staring at him and pointing your finger to the direction Hu Tao disappeared in with a raised brow.

“Well?”

“Love, I know I worried you and I am sorry,” sighing he bent to put the shoes neatly on the carpet, adding his own a second after, “but the moment I got the news I was just as worried as you are. Her grandfather was hospitalized.”

Your eyes widened and a hand flew to your mouth to muffle a horrified gasp, the scolding you had for him just at the tip of your tongue long forgotten and nonexistent.

“No… No, please, don’t tell me-”

“Nothing life-threatening yet, but they said he’d be in the hospital for a couple of weeks, so they could monitor his condition,” you let out a relieved exhale at that, taking a hold of Zhongli's hand when he reached to comfort you. “But Hu Tao didn’t want to leave the hospital either, so they had to call her emergency contact - me - and ask to convince her to go home. I even let my students go earlier, so I didn’t get in a traffic jam on my way there, I had to be there fast. I managed to persuade her to go with me and stay with us for these two weeks. I couldn’t let her go home, alone, in a state like that, I just couldn’t.”

“You did an absolutely right thing Zhongli,” you quickly reassured him, taking his second hand in yours, squeezing both. “Of course she can stay as long as she needs. I promise to do my best to take care of her.”

“I know you will, love,” the corners of his mouth lifted and adoration swirled in the gold of his eyes. “I count on your help. Words can’t describe how grateful I am for you always being here for her just as much as you are for our kids.”

“Don’t mention it, she is important to me after all. But speaking of our kids - go and greet Xiao, he’s been dying to finally see you today.”

“But Hu Tao-”

“Will be looked after. I am on it. Now go before our boy comes here himself.”

The man finally gave you a full smile and a proper kiss on your lips, squeezing your hands back, before letting go of them and hurrying to the kitchen.

You, on the other hand, approached the bathroom. Back pressed to the wall, you patiently waited, listening to the water running and the girl shuffling around, until all sounds came to a stop.

"Um… What towel can I use?" It seemed she heard you coming and knew you were standing outside.

"Yellow one, sweety," some more shuffling before the lock clicked open and Hu Tao emerged from the bathroom, having her knitted cardigan hanging off of her arm. Bare slumped shoulders only made the misery of her state more prominent. Caramel red eyes glanced at you briefly, before staring at the floor intently, as if she wanted to burn a hole in your parquet. In general she looked like she didn't know what to do with herself, so you decided to take the matter in your own hands.

"Hey, butterfly," you said softly, carefully placing just the tips of your fingers on her shoulder, to make sure she wouldn't flinch, "how about we go and get you some dinner? I bet you are hungry. How does it sound?"

"Sounds good," she quietly murmurs, sniffling and bringing a hand to rub at her eye, metal bracelets clinking melodically on her wrist. "Is Xiao there?"

"He is, but he won't ask questions, I promise," and you hoped your husband had warned him no to.

"Okay… okay," she nodded, more to herself, than to you, and allowed you to gently lead her to the kitchen with a full palm resting on her shoulder. Passing the hall, Hu Tao quickly glanced at the key hooks and stopped briefly to hang the cardigan on a free one. Then she paused in hesitation, sleeve caught between her fingers, as if contemplating should she really leave it there or she’d better take it to cover herself. The moment of doubt was short though, and she quickly let go of the browny red article of clothing. You saw everything, but didn’t comment anyhow, smiling at her, when she returned to your side and resumed your way.

When you stepped into the kitchen two pairs of golden eyes darted in your direction - one concerned and the other silently empathetic. This was enough to know Xiao was aware your guest wasn't in the right state to answer questions. Nevertheless he waved at her in greeting to which she did the same, mustering a small smile for the boy that was gone the moment she turned her head to look at Zhongli, who, instead of going to change, was busy with heating up food for Hu Tao and himself. You set the girl at the table and sat next to her, positioning your chair closely to hers.

You observed how she straightened in her seat, squaring her shoulders and keeping her head high and gaze directed forward. Maybe this display, put out more for Xiao than for anyone else, could play out as convincing, but you weren’t fooled, not with the way her slim fingers, adorned with many rings, were tightly clasped under the table, turning white immediately from the intensity of her grip. Wordlessly, you reached to them, enveloping this lock of hands with your warm palm and keeping it there, as Zhongli put down the plates for himself and your guest, excusing himself just for a moment to finally change, and Xiao hopped off of his chair and started moving it closer to the sink, volunteering to wash the dishes.

Only when the man returned did Hu Tao bring her hands back to view and took the chopsticks.

With plates and mugs dried and placed in the cupboard, you closed the doors and placed the chair in its original place. Next step was to grab your wallet and give your son some shiny jingling reward for helping with chores, which you quickly proceeded to do. Your little wonder’s eyes twinkled happily and he scurried to his room to add it to his personal savings.

Zhongli watched you with a half-finished cup of tea in his hand, leaning to the countertop. He didn’t want to leave Hu Tao’s side at the time like that, but he also understood his duty as a father and, honestly, he missed Xiao the whole day. His face expression was screaming controversy, and you caught his gaze, upon coming back to the kitchen from putting the wallet away.

“You've done a lot already bringing her here, darling. Go spend some time with Xiao. You can join us later, I got it,” you pulled the cup from his grip and put it in the sink - the tea was cold at that point anyway. “We’ll be in the living room cuddling, text me if Xiao would want to join us too, alright?”

“Alright,” he nodded, pressing a short peck to your lips, pouring his gratitude through the small gesture. Then he once again looked at the girl, who seemed to be deep in thought, hardly hearing your interaction.

“Promise me she’ll be fine,” he whispered and you sighed. Of course you’d make everything to assure it. With years going by you grew to love and care for Hu Tao just as much as you did for your older daughter. Your heart ached just as much seeing sadness overtaking her features, and it pained the same way it did whenever you saw the expression on Ganyu’s face, no matter what the cause was. Even if both were almost grown up women, you still couldn't worry for them any less.

And you knew that the girl had a special place in your husband's kind heart.

“She will,” you said firmly, determination radiating from your eyes and Zhongli for a second almost lost himself to falling in love with you over again. You had to push him a little in the doorway direction, to remind him he was needed somewhere else at the moment.

With your husband gone from the kitchen, you hummed softly, drawing Hu Tao’s attention.

“Hey, butterfly,” gaze filled with melancholy shifted to you, “let’s get you to the living room.”

A silent question and confusion flashed behind her eyes, to which you offered her a smile, and then an extended hand.

“To cuddle, my dear.”

“To cuddle…” She repeated like a parrot, absentmindedly sliding her palm into yours and forcing her body to cooperate and stand up. She was putting her trust into you while showing no resistance, and you were sure not to fail her.

“Mhm, there you go,” encouragement poured from your lips, washing over her in calming waves, making the girl take a deep breath. She grimaced a little, as the take proved to be too much for her lungs in an almost painful way, so she hurried to exhale. Your heart clenched again. If only some of this pain could be taken away, if only you could take and shed it away.

But you were no deity and could only do as much as bringing her to the couch, gently setting her there and brushing her bangs away.

“Let’s untie these,” you didn’t wait for her response, carefully twisting the hair tie off of one of her ponytails and letting her long brown locks cascade down her face. Soon the twin tail was released as well, and you busied yourself with running fingers near the roots, to soothe her and brush the tangles a little bit. You didn’t see the girl’s face, but her back against your legs became more relaxed.

"Now ready to cuddle?"

Hu Tao thought of how amazing you were, sounding cheerful, despite being so obviously worried for her, touching her gently and delicately, helping her further on the couch and into your warm embrace with a duvet being dragged over your bodies. How precise you were in your movements, bringing her close, yet giving all the freedom to get into a comfortable position, which the girl didn't hesitate to choose. One arm tightly wrapped around your middle and the other fisting the material of her own shirt, with head tilted down and long hair obscuring half of the face.

"Is this okay?" You were so considerate and kind it almost hurt, but in a good, most joy-bringing way.

Her eyes stung and she quietly sniffled, hoping you didn't notice. Even if you did - you did not seem to show, letting her have her moment of trying to not start the waterworks. She knew she could be vulnerable with you and Zhongli and she had washed her makeup before dinner, but it wasn't that.

No. She just knew, if she let herself go now…

...the dam would be broken and no human would fix it for hours.

Yet, she desperately wanted for those painful intrusive thoughts to go away, mind and body exhausted, worn out with worry and the feeling of hopelessness. Images of white still dancing before her eyes - white walls, white coats of nurses and doctors, whose words she couldn’t decipher with all that white noise filling her ears after hearing the news… And the pale, almost white face of her grandpa.

No, no, she must not think of it.

You shivered when suddenly she curled even more into your body, fingers letting go of her shirt and then clinging to yours, crumpling it.

"...is this okay with you?" Your heart sank in your stomach. Did that shiver make her think you were uncomfortable? Of course, you weren’t, it’s just that her voice sounded so quiet and broken… almost shattering your own resolve.

"Sure it is, butterfly, I love cuddling with you, it is totally okay," you hurried to reassure, wrapping your arms around her frame to prove your words. So secure, Hu Tao felt so protected by a simple touch, by you... She barely managed to force the emotional choke back down her throat, tightening the hold on the front of your shirt.

"No, that's… not what I was asking about…" murmuring she turned her face to the side, muffling the words against the sofa cushions, yet you heard them.

"Want to talk about it?" Your hand is back in her hair, delicately cupping the back of her head, fingertips gently scratching the scalp. A shaky sigh and a quiet cough - exhaling into a solid object wasn't the best idea. The girl was silent, barely showing her face, so you leaned forward, putting your chin on top of her head, holding her impossibly close.

“Just don’t suffocate yourself, dear,” you reminded her and in a second felt her head turning, facing your collarbones and properly breathing. “Good, good… We can just stay like this, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk, I got you.”

You heard a tiny sniffle and a ragged breath. Comfortingly you started humming, rocking your tangled bodies as much as the lying position allowed.

Hu Tao’s eyes stung more unbearably than before, so she squeezed them shut tightly, pressing her forehead to your collarbones. A full sob wrecked her throat, but she still was trying to hold on what crumbs were still left of her self-control, but gods was that hard. Not when she felt so safe next to you, not when your voice, so sweet and soothing, plucked at the strings of her soul, not when you were so willing to be here for her, when you had absolutely no obligation to be there for her…

Just like her loving grandpa.

…

Oh no.

The tears welled in her eyes, escaping and running down her rosy cheeks, facade ruined completely. Wailing cries muffled against her fist, still holding onto your shirt, didn’t sound less heart-wrenching. The dam was broken.

The headache was killing her. Her throat burnt and eyes felt like they were going to roll out of her sockets. Everything felt slightly painful, with body having been stuck in one position for so long - she didn’t think she’d be able to move even a muscle.

There were still arms tightly wrapped around her, cradling her head in a warm palm, and she still heard the same soft and loving voice, now talking to another, equally dear one.

“She is worn out… we need to take her to bed.”

“Ganyu room?”

“Yeah… She’d need privacy.”

“Agreed.”

“She looks really tired… You think you could carry her?”

“Of course, let me just-” Hu Tao heard the footsteps of a person coming to the other side of the sofa - her side. Your arms carefully unwrapped from around her and rolled her body to lay on the back. Then two other arms - much stronger ones - slide under her knees and shoulder blades, effortlessly lifting her from the couch. “Here we go.”

Only then did she open her eyes. Everything was blurry and it was hard to see with lights dimmed, but even so the liquid gold staring down at her was unmistakable. She blinked a few times, sighing and cringing a little from how raspy it sounded. Palm fisted and came to rub at her eyes, ears picking on the sound of shuffling - of you getting yourself off of the piece of furniture where the whole outburst happened and where you spent two hours holding her close and comforting the poor girl the best ways you could. The memory of what happened was a saddening one, but Hu Tao was actually glad for taking all of it out of her system. She didn’t want to think what it would be like, if she was all alone.

“Dear,” but the smooth deep voice of the man who vowed to be her guardian instead of her deceased parents reminded her that she was not indeed alone, “I’ll get you to the bathroom so you can wash your face, and then to rest for the night, okay?”

“Okay, sounds like a plan” your face lit up when she did not simply nod, but voiced her answer, exhaling in relief. You watched as she carefully wrapped her arms around Zhongli’s neck to make holding her more comfortable for him, and thought that she’d be alright.

“While you two are at it, I’ll go and put the new sheets and stuff.”

Hu Tao turned in your direction, just as you were ready to head out, and cleared her throat.

“Thank you.”

Halting in your steps, you faced her and, seeing the gratitude reflecting in her eyes - the eyes where a small spark was flickering once again, smiled.

“Always, butterfly.”

She watched you disappear in the hallway and her heart swelled with unspoken emotion. She was so damn lucky to find a family in you two. Was that what Ganyu felt when you adopted her, and she started living a proper life as the daughter of the Rex-Lapis couple? Probably it was.

She kept silent and to herself all the way to the bathroom, where Zhongli put her down on the tiled floor carefully. Assured she was firmly standing on her feet, he let her do her thing, promising to come back with slippers for her - something he had forgotten to give at her arrival.

Rings and bracelets clinked against the edge of the bathtub, where she placed them to not be in a way, leaving just one spare hairtie she always had on her. Rolling it further up her wrist, she reached for the faucet.

Cool water helped to clear her mind and wash the dried tear trails from her cheeks, and a moment later a very tired, but not as miserable as it used to be, face appeared in the mirror above the sink. Already red eyes were bloodshot, but, she supposed, it wasn’t that bad, it’s not like she was going to a beauty contest in ten minutes. The small joke even made her chuckle softly, rubbing at her cheek and then bending down to blow her nose.

Zhongli was back in ten minutes and knocked politely, just as she was half-done with twisting the strands of her long hair in one braid.

“Almost done, uncle Li. Come in,” the doorknob turned and the door opened slightly, just enough to squeeze the slippers inside and leave them there.

“No, no, take your time. I’ll wait outside.”

And wait he did. When Hu Tao stepped out of the bathroom, tapping the hilarious spider-like big slippers, the man was there, switching the lights off the moment the girl closed the door. Now let me tell about those slippers - you once bought them for your husband as a joke for Halloween, which, upon seeing during one of her visits, the girl fell in love with and always asked to wear when being over. It’s not like Zhongli had something against it, in all honesty, they were hideous to him. He loved you with his whole heart, but they were hideous and uncomfortable.

However he had to admit, his gaze softened when she lifted one of her feet and jerked it, making the spider legs jump up and down. Oh, she really loved them.

“Here’s a box you can store your accessories in,” he offered her a small plastic container with a lid - simple, but quite enough to have all her rings and bracelets stored. She literally dumped those inside, and Zhongli closed the lid, handing it to her.

“Thanks, Uncle Li,” the first smile after the crying fit grazed her lips, and Zhongli mentally kissed all over your face, for being there for her.

“Uncle Li?” oh, speak of the devil. You joined them with a pile of bedding you took off the bed in your arms. “What happened to “Lincle”?”

“My love…” your husband’s brows shot up at the mention of the nickname Hu Tao once came up with. Cause combining “Li” and “Uncle” this way was faster and easier to pronounce.

“Come on, dear, that was cute,” you giggled and glanced at Hu Tao. “He thought it was cute too.”

“Did not.”

“Sure did.”

“Y/n-”

Listening to your meaningless, soon-to-be-turned affectionate bickering and seeing how a barely noticeable blush crept onto the esteemed University’s professor’s cheeks, Hu Tao shook her head with a soft smile. She was definitely in good hands.

And she vowed to herself that she wouldn’t let depressing thoughts corrupt her mind anymore, she would show gratitude to this family by doing so, since that’s what made them so worried. She’d have so many great stories to tell her grandpa when he got better, and he would.

She was sure of that.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x fem!reader #zhongli #xiao #hu tao #genshin modern au

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