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misasimagines · 2 months ago

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all your fault / reader x Ren (Tokyo Debunker)

included characters: just ren!

rating: sfw

warnings: tsundere. dreaded there was only one bed trope. reader is forced to watch shakma.

What started as an innocent, “My door is always open,” offer to a tired, gaming withdrawing Ren became a habit you had no desire to break. You walked him back to your place after his shift at the diner and after your classes let out. He would sneak out of Jabberwock to bring a new terrible horror movie to watch. You would find an excuse to back out of plans so you would be able to be home when he would likely stop by.

It was almost starting to feel like he lived there.

You hopped up on your bed next to him, leaning up against the wall and settling in. “What are we watching tonight?”

He so rarely looked excited, but there was a mischievous, almost manic enthusiasm in his eyes, “Shakma.”

You stared at him.

He set his laptop up on his legs and opened up the movie site.

“The movie with the killer monkey?” You ventured.

“Yes. It’s so bad.” He was giddy. In his own way.

Taking a deep breath, you pulled your blanket over your legs and accepted your fate. It wouldn’t be the first horrible, no good, very bad movie he’d made you watch.

The movie was worse than bad. The movie was so bad that the weather outside went from a cloudless night to a rolling thunderstorm. You jumped once at a particularly loud thunder clap and he had mocked you, asking if you were actually scared of the killer monkey.

“I’m not scared of the killer monkey,” you scoffed, “I’m scared of my shitty cathedral room getting flooded by the storm.”

Ren was too invested in the evil baboon killing med students to react with much nuance, “That would suck.”

The rest of the movie passed (thankfully, it seemed like it would never end) and Ren enjoyed every second of the awful film. You could appreciate his excitement, it was cute to see him so focused and invested. The light of the laptop screen flashed against his face, illuminating his eyes and accentuating his handsome features. Honestly, most of the movie you were imagining snuggling up to him, maybe using his shoulder as a pillow, and that’s what kept you from going completely insane from the terrible direction of the “plot.” You knew if you actually tried to do anything like that, he’d complain about harassment and whine until you apologized and it might just ruin everything you had with him.

You respected his boundaries, anyway, and knew that your fantasies would go unfulfilled. You were happy enough just being friends with him, getting to know about his bad taste in movies, opening whatever links he sent you to replenish his game stamina, and even starting a game or two yourself because he wanted the referral credits. Ah, the lengths you went to for this ungrateful boy.

The credits rolled and he pulled out his phone immediately, logging in to one of his mobile games to collect dailies. It must have been past midnight already. He was like a living alarm for you. You knew what hour it was based on him opening up whatever game on his phone, they all had different reset times, and this one was midnight.

Stretching your legs, you climbed up on your knees and leaned over his legs, bracing yourself against the foot-board to look out your window. The storm hadn’t let up, and you watched a torrent of rain rage against your window. The trees bowed outside from the sheer force of the wind and as you watched, a flash of lighting touched down, turning your room almost white from the brightness.

“What are you doing?” He asked, distracting you from your inspection.

Still bent over on your knees, you answered, “I don’t think the rain is going to let up.” You pushed yourself back and sat back down next to him.

If the laptop had a brighter color than black on the screen, you would have seen him blushing. For once, he was lucky, and the credits had given away to a black pause screen that kept you in the dark about his reaction. “Great,” he complained instead. “I’ll have to walk home in the dark and during a storm.”

You frowned, “Maybe it’ll be really bad for now, and then lessen up in a bit if you want to wait?”

He was quiet, and you knew he wasn’t doing anything important in the game since he just opened up the character menu, checked their stats, and then swiped to another one. He knew all of that information already by heart, he was just distracting himself and trying to appear casual. “Don’t you have an early morning tomorrow?”

You did, actually, and it surprised you he remembered it. Your surprise must have shown on your face, because he scowled at you before you could answer.

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t ignore everything you say…” He pouted.

You bit back a smile, “Just 90% of it?” You teased.

“...40%.” He answered.

“Aw, so everything about how you really should treat Haru more nicely you ignore?” You poked his shoulder.

He turned his head away, “Now I’m ignoring you.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile and fell back onto your pillow, propping your knees up so you didn’t kick him. You were nice to him, even when he didn’t deserve it. “I do have an early morning tomorrow, but I don’t want you to drown out there or get struck by lightning or something, so I won’t kick you out.”

Ren set down his phone and steadied his laptop, more unnecessary movements to stall for time.

“You don’t have to stay,” You promised him, softening your voice as to not startle him, “I have an umbrella somewhere around here if you’d be more comfortable going home.” It wasn’t your intention to push him or to try to break any boundaries he had very clearly set. Ren wasn’t a… touchy, emotional guy. He was stubborn, he was pessimistic, and he had a very small social battery. In the time you had known him, you knew he didn’t like casual touches, he didn’t respond well to verbal affection, and he could barely tolerate even calling you a friend. You understood these things and you would never want to put him in a situation where he felt obligated to put up with something that made him uncomfortable.

Another minute of silence passed, and you rolled to your side and prepared to search for that umbrella. He spoke up before you could stand fully, “You don’t expect me to sleep on the floor or something, do you?”

You bounced lightly back down on the bed. Did he really want to stay? “No…” but you only had the one bed.

He pushed his laptop further away from him, expression fully readable. He was uncertain, torn between the discomfort of walking home while the storm blew branches off of the trees and the discomfort of sleeping in a comparatively warm bed. With you. His friend who he couldn’t stop going to almost every day. Who he spent most of his time with, who didn’t run his social battery to empty, and who never tried to force him to do anything he didn’t want to do. You had just watched a truly despicable movie with him, not complaining, not nagging him to pick something else. You never asked for any kind of payment for your company and care.

Would it really be that bad?

His cheeks flushed again at his own line of thinking and he looked out the window to avoid you seeing it. Your room was dark, only a few candles lighting up small radiuses around the room. You wouldn’t have even really been able to see it if he had stayed facing you.

You thought carefully. You really didn’t want to send him out in the rain, and you were worried that he was going to do just that if you didn’t fix the situation quickly. What was one night on your own cold, rickety, dusty floor? It would just be one of the many things you dealt with for him, “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor-”

He groaned, “Don’t be a martyr. It’s fine, we always sit on your bed to watch movies anyway. How different can it be?”

~~~

You took some time snuffing out your candles, changing into your most normal, modest, and not embarrassing pajamas possible. He had left a bag in your room one day that had a pair of spare joggers and a t-shirt from when he had to change last minute for work, and you had generously thrown them in with your laundry after he forgot them. One win for Ren tonight not having to sleep in jeans!

You thought it might be the only win, given the absolutely devastated look he had on his face staring down at your narrow bed.

He was not small, despite the closed off way he carried himself. His shoulders were relatively broad and his legs were long. You imagined that alone he’d feel squished in your bed. With you as well? He would be channeling the experience of a sardine. You considered again offering to sleep on your floor, but your sock-clad feet could feel the cold seeping in from the floorboards and you shuddered to think of sleeping down there.

“Wall side or door side?” You offered, trying to lighten the mood.

He frowned, “Wall side, so you don’t push me off onto the floor.” He climbed in, pulling the covers over him and keeping his face pointed at the wall. He fit exactly, with no room at the top or bottom to stretch out any further.

You climbed in after him, plugging in your phone and blowing out the last candle on your nightstand before pulling the covers up. It felt strange. The weight of his body dipped your mattress in a way that you weren’t used to. The normally cold chill of your room seemed lessened with his additional body heat under the covers. You imagined the sensation of an invisible barrier between you two, keeping you from settling fully on your bed. One of your shoulders was resting on air.

There was silence in your room, cut only by the constant of the rain outside, the wind making your old walls moan and crack, and the occasional distant boom of thunder. It went on so long, you weren’t sure if he was already asleep or just determined to pretend to be. You were about to accept the crick you’d have in your neck when he spoke up.

“I can’t move over anymore than I already am,” he sounded annoyed, but the kind of annoyed he was when you brought him lunch and he was upset about you bringing a rice bowl instead of noodles. The kind of annoyed where he would have said thank you and been grateful, if only he weren’t cursed to be so terribly bratty.

“It’s fine! I can scoot over more,” you assured, sliding over a few more inches until you had to flex your arm to keep it from falling limp over the side of the bed.

Ren raised up on his elbow to inspect you and scowled, “You’re gonna fall off, so just-” he reached across you and grabbed your arm to pull you back up on the bed and froze.

His face turned red and you assumed yours matched from the scorching heat you felt in your cheeks. Ren was leaning over you, holding your arm, in the process of pulling you closer to him, and his face was closer to you than it ever had been. He could have lowered a few more inches and kissed you- If, big on the if, this situation were romantic and not potentially traumatizing for him. You hoped if he ever got this close to you it would be without an expression of such embarrassment and terror.

He dropped you and flipped over immediately, pulling the covers up to his ears and facing the wall, “Whatever, you can fall off if you're so determined to. I can't stop you.”

You took a slow, careful breath to calm your racing heart. The feeling of his hand on your arm lingered until the draft stole it away. You scooted over just enough to fit on your own bed and responded, “I’ll try not to.”

A few beats passed and he did not try to talk to you.

“Goodnight, Ren,” you mumbled, turning away from him and closing your eyes.

“...night…” he mumbled right back.

Ah, what a pair.

~~~

You started shivering in the middle of the night. He flopped over onto his back and glared at you. How was he ever going to sleep when you were shaking like a Chihuahua mere inches away from him?

“Cut it out,” he grumbled quietly.

You didn't respond and the pathetic shivers didn't cease.

He pushed himself up and squinted at you in the darkness. The curtains were too translucent to keep out much moonlight, and he could see that your eyes were shut tight and you took slow, even breaths in your sleep. Ren frowned. It was cold here, it was no wonder that you were shivering so much.

He laid back down and stared at your ceiling. Did you spend every night like this? Whenever he left you to go home to Jabberwock, did you climb up into your rickety bed and freeze yourself to sleep? What a martyr. You should have demanded to live anywhere but a dusty, moth eaten cathedral.

He turned to look at you again.

But if you lived anywhere else, would he ever have been able to be here with you? If you lived with those nepotism babies in Frostheim, for example, he'd probably have to deal with Kaito and Luka hanging around all the time. Or worse, Jin demanding your presence at all hours of the night. He couldn't stand watching you disappear into that rich bastard’s room.

If you lived in Vagastrom, you'd what? Live in the trunk of some car and he'd have to hope no one tried to use that car in a monster truck rally before you got out of it? Sinostra, if you didn't get eaten by Taiga, who knows where Romeo would keep you? And those ghouls in Mortkranken, who's to say they wouldn't do some freaky experiments on you?

Of course, this was not to even consider if you lived in Jabberwock. Even with you so close by, he'd never have a chance to actually be alone with you. Haru and Towa would take up all your time and you'd help out so much you'd been too tired to hang out with him. Not…not that he needed to be alone with you or anything.

God. He sounded like such a creep even thinking that. If thought crimes were a thing, he'd be in prison.

You continued pitifully shivering next to him, your hands curled up into fists you held close to your chest.

He pulled the sheets up to cover your hands, his fingers brushing against yours as he did so. You felt like ice, so much that he risked carefully touching you again to confirm. Yep. Prison. But also, were you going to die of frostbite in bed next to him? He could just groan to imagine that dweeb Ritsu finding a way to implicate him in your death. Or worse, charging a ridiculous fee to defend him in court.

There was no way around it then. He scooted closer. He was only doing this to avoid the court fees. He tugged his pillow closer to yours. And it's not like you hadn't touched before. He laid down, slowly, until his chest was against your back. You'd hugged him once- well, you hugged his arm. Because you fell and grabbed onto him for balance. But it counted. Whatever.

Ren’s heart raced as he slowly wrapped an arm around you and placed a hand over your curled fists. It didn't mean anything. There wasn’t anything significant in the way your hands felt in his or how you somehow smelled like the most comforting thing he could imagine. He rested his head on his pillow and felt you slowly relax, your shivering dissipating as he warmed you up. It was like you were melting, your curled up form unwinding delicately until you fit against him like you belonged there.

He shut his eyes tightly and tried to keep from breathing too heavily and waking you up. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale- without meaning to, he started matching your rhythm. However awake and grumpy he felt moments before, now he felt like he could pass out and never wake up again. Just as long as you stayed there in bed with him…

No, there was no way. He'd just have to wake up before you did and never let you know he did this and then it would be like nothing ever happened. It didn't matter how good it felt or how there was a little sliver of his heart that ached to do this every night. He bit back a groan of annoyance.

This was obviously your fault.

~~~

Sunlight filtered through your curtains, illuminating your room in a soft but insistently bright glow. Your phone alarm went off a few seconds later and you reached up to turn it off.

After the rough and cold start to the night, you felt certain you'd sleep horribly, but as you rubbed your eyes and stretched your legs, you thought you got the best night of sleep you'd had in a long time. You sat up in bed, pleasantly cozy and unable to keep a small smile off of your lips.

Ren was already up, shoving his night clothes into his bag.

“Good morning,” you managed mid yawn.

He made a noise at you.

“Sleep okay?” You asked, “Sorry if you were uncomfortable.” He seemed… off and you felt guilty that he had such a bad night when you felt so invigorated.

“It was fine…” he responded noncommittally before straightening up and throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

You nodded, your good mood hanging by a thread.

He gave you a look you didn't see as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and pawed for your phone to check your texts. He wanted to tell you a number of things he couldn't even let himself think. So he just grabbed his things and made his way to the door as he checked his own phone. “I have a bunch of raids tonight back to back.” He announced.

“Hmm, okay,” You acknowledged.

He frowned. Invite him back.

You were too tired to get it.

“Ugh, I'll be back tonight. You're not busy, right?”

You shook your head.

He frowned again, opened the door, and stood in the doorway. There were so many ways to end this better. He turned to look at you, your covers puddled in your lap, your cheek baring the red crease mark of your pillow, your eyes still foggy with sleep. He could say anything, do anything better than just saying “bye” and closing the door behind him.

You smiled softly at him, “I'll see you tonight,”

His cheeks felt hot, “Yeah. Bye.” He stepped out and shut the door behind him, that picture of you sitting in bed and smiling at him burned in his brain. He'd be able to think of nothing else all day. Ren checked his weather app. More rain tonight.

He started off back towards Jabberwock. It would be too much of a hassle to grab an umbrella and you would freeze without him… he scowled at his own thoughts as he trudged home. This was really all your fault.

#tdb #tokyo debunker #tdb x reader #tokyo debunker x reader #ren tdb #ren tokyo debunker #ren shiranami #tdb fluff #please no one expect consistency from me #i have a full time job and i am playing skyrim again

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 months ago

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Procedure Part 2

Part One | Masterlist | Next Part

Notes: Alright so it's gonna be three parts not two but that is IT

Also I'm posting from mobile so if the title looks janky, that's why

Length: 6.1K

Warnings: Light angst, tons of fluff, I know I said this chapter would have explicit content but I felt that I needed to shore up my narrative bridge I'm SORRY next one I promise

Summary: You hadn’t bothered with dating apps in so long, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. At best, it could push you out of this mental rut and get you back into a flirty mood. At worst, it could scare you off from dating again for god knows how long. It wasn’t as if Ben had ruined you for other men. And there were plenty of fish in the sea, weren’t there?

“Is she still asleep?”

“Yeah, she’s out like a light.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben sighed. You could practically see him hunched over his desk, scrubbing his hand across his eyes.

The call to come and pick up Olivia had come at midnight. You’d only been in bed for half an hour, and you’d spent that half hour scrolling through your phone. Seeing Ben’s name pop up on your screen had been like a jumpscare, and you hadn’t hesitated to pick up.

He had sounded so disappointed and worn over the phone, half-grumbles and apologies of, “Late call,” and, “Only one on duty,” and, “I wouldn’t ask, but it’s an emergency.”

Your reassurances had fallen on deaf ears for the first round of explanations, but when you’d managed to break through to him, you’d told him that it was no problem, that you’d be over. You’d realized on the drive over that it wouldn’t be as simple as packing Olivia into the car and bringing her home. She was already asleep, and you knew from bitter, bitter experience that waking her up and shuffling her to another location would mean a sleepless night for the both of you.

Finding yourself alone in Borracho’s apartment was so strange. You’d been there dozens of times, sure, but it was usually for a couple of minutes at a time to pick Olivia up or drop her off. You were a little stunned at how neat it was, but at least he was keeping it clean for Olivia. Ben had always been so busy, and between his mess, your mess, and the baby’s mess when she was small, your home together had always felt so overcrowded with stuff in a way that was impossible to get a handle on.

You’d expected to have to neaten up, but there were just a handful of dishes in the sink and a basket of unfolded laundry.

“It’s okay, honestly,” You insisted, slouching back against the arm of his couch. “Worse comes to worse, Liv wakes up to seeing me here and we have a repeat of that time she thought she’d teleported in her sleep.”

Borracho’s chuckle made you smile. He had been in such a state when you’d arrived up, phone buzzing in his pocket and jacket in his hand as he’d rushed to get out the door.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” He added.

“All good.”

“Stay out of my fridge.”

“I can’t even have a snack?”

“You know what I mean. Don’t start expiration date hunting.”

“I feel like you saying that means that you know you have something in there that wouldn’t meet my standards.”

“Cabinet snacks only. I’m instating that rule.”

“I hear you, but with respect, I will at least grab a beer.”

“I’m gonna get back to it here.”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“...Ben.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t stress. It’s one in the morning and I have nowhere to go.”

“Not for the streets?”

“Oh my—Hang up and go solve crime shit, Magalon.”

“Alright,” He laughed. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye.”

You pulled the phone back from your ear, shaking your head as you looked around the living room. You could watch some tv, go back to scrolling on your phone…Or do Ben’s dishes and fold his laundry to later distract from the fact that you had definitely gone through his fridge for expired food.

You could not remember the last time you were awoken by another person in a way that wasn’t Olivia jumping on your bed, or poking you in the cheek and asking if she could watch Paw Patrol while she had her breakfast.

The feeling of a broad, warm hand smoothing over your arm made you stir, your brow furrowing as you twisted your head toward the touch.

“C’mon, up,” Borracho murmured. “You keep sleeping like this and you’re gonna have the worst crick in your neck.”

You pulled in a deep breath, rolling onto your back and yawning widely as you squinted against the lamp light.

“Hey,” You mumbled. “You just get in?”

“Couple minutes ago. Stuck my head in to see Liv, she’s still KO’d.”

“Mm, good. Everything okay with the—” You yawned again, “The case?”

“Good enough as it can be for now. Zapata was able to come in, take over.”

“Time is it?”

“Almost three.”

“Damn,” You mumbled.

“Sorry—”

“Dude, stop apologizing,” You nudged him lightly with your knee. “It’s your job.”

“I know, but…”

You tipped your head to the side, eyes narrowing slightly as you took in his frown. “What is it?”

“This was supposed to be your night off.”

You smiled a bit at his insistence before you pushed yourself up. “We’re parents, Ben. We don’t really get nights off. Nights away, maybe. It’s alright. It’s never gonna be perfect, but this isn’t bad. I promise.”

Borracho nodded, casting a sidelong glance and smiling softly.

“Good.”

“Good,” You parroted before reaching up and pinching his cheek. “Quit frowning.” You stretched, pushing yourself up. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Whaddayou mean?” Borracho frowned. “You’re heading out? You have any idea what time it is?”

“Two minutes past when I asked you what time it was?”

“Just stay here. I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m not kicking you out of bed, Ben.”

“No, just grab one of my shirts and—”

“You have Olivia all day tomorrow. You need your sleep as much as I do—More, even.”

Borracho was quiet for a moment, seeming to weigh his options before he shrugged and stood.

“Alright.”

“Great. So—”

“We’ll share.”

“Goodnight—What?”

“Bed’s big enough,” He shrugged. “Go on, get ready. I’m gonna have some water and wind down—Be in in a bit.”

“...You sure?”

“I’m the reason you’re here. Let Liv be the reason you stay.” His eyes searched your face, and you fought to keep it neutral as your heart ticked up in your chest. “I will feel better knowing you’re safe and not driving right after you got up.”

“Yes, but think of how rested I—” You stopped, face pinching as you swallowed a yawn. Borracho gave a slow, unimpressed nod before tipping his head down the hall.

“Go on.”

You hesitated for a second before you took a step back, hands raised in surrender. “I know better than to argue with you when you’re in detective mode.”

You heard him huff a soft laugh as you turned, heading down the hall. You glanced back toward him, relieved to see that he’d turned away before you headed into his room. You closed the door behind yourself, flicked your light on, and for a few moments you just let yourself…Look, and smell.

The bed sheets were a set from the old place—dark grey, with mismatched grey and blue pillow cases. The scent of his deodorant and cologne, the mingle of yuzu and bergamot and wintergreen…You pushed off of the door, sighing. At least you’d done your skincare and everything at home, no need to worry about the fact that you had none of your stuff there. You rifled around in his dresser for an old shirt and a pair of his boxers, changing as hurriedly as possible on the off-chance he came in sooner than you expected.

You climbed into bed, drawing the sheets up around your chest and rolling onto your side. Was this your side of the bed? Had this been your side of the bed when the two of you were together? It must’ve been, right? Why else would you have picked it now?

You glanced back as you heard the door open slightly, offering a soft, “You’re good,” before he opened the door the rest of the way. You settled back down, resting your head on the pillow and listening to him shuffle around.

You remembered the feeling of this, but it seemed a world away now. He wasn’t slamming drawers shut, and you weren’t sighing loudly in the hope of speeding him along to get him to shut the light off. The bed dipping behind you made your stomach swoop, and you forced yourself to take a quiet, steadying breath as he shut the light off. You let your ears hone in on the hum of the AC, the odd shush of a passing car on the road.

“...You still awake?” Ben murmured.

“Yeah.”

“You did the dishes.”

“Mhm.”

“Folded my laundry, too.”

“Idle hands are the devil’s, you know. Blah blah blah.”

“Mm…You threw out my mustard, didn’t you.”

“You’re lucky that’s all I threw out.”

Waking up to an empty bed wasn’t anything new, and waking up in those sheets was a little unfamiliar—but opening your eyes and seeing a mahogany dresser and not your window was jarring. You drew in a deep breath as you steadied yourself, listening closely. It didn’t take long for you to catch on the soft clink of dishes down the hall, and the sound of Spongebob and your daughter’s giggling.

You pushed yourself up, taking up your phone and eyeing the time. Nearly 9—shit. Why hadn’t Ben woken you up? You swung your legs out of bed, pushing yourself up with a wide yawn. You could smell coffee, and for as much as you should just get dressed and run out, that was absolutely your first priority.

“There you are.”

You fought back an eye roll in favor of taking hold of the mug of coffee Ben held out to you.

“Saying ‘there are you are’ as the person who didn’t wake me up is incredibly bold of you,” You grumbled, slouching back against the counter.

“Mommy!”

“Good morning, bug,” You smiled, resting your hand on Olivia’s head as she barrelled into your side, nearly sending the coffee sloshing over the sides of the mug. “You sleep okay?”

“Uh-huh. But I had a dream aboudda bear.”

“A bear?” You gasped. “Was it really big and scary?”

“Yeah!”

“Did you get away?”

“Yeah!”

“Phew!” You sighed, pretending to swipe a bead of sweat away from your forehead. “Thank goodness.”

“Mom?"

“Yes, bug.”

“Did you sleep over here, too?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but found yourself stalling for one. “Uh…” You turned to look at Borracho, brow furrowing—only to see your expression mirrored.

“Livvy, why don’t you go get dressed,” He suggested, “We’ll get breakfast at the diner.”

“Can I get pancakes?”

“Of course.”

“With ice cream?” Olivia looked between the two of you with beseeching eyes, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. There was no other way to get her out of the room for the two of you to talk—not when ice cream was potentially on offer.

“One scoop,” Borracho conceded. Olivia screeched, zipping down the hall to her room.

“...Well, remember that you chose that sugar high,” You smiled.

“A sugar high that you backed us into.”

“Backed yourself into that one, pal, we could’ve thought of something else.”

“Well, you didn’t seem to be coming up with anything.”

“I haven’t had any coffee yet,” You muttered, finally raising the mug to your lips. Borracho smiled, walking a little closer.

“So, if she does ask again?”

“I came over to say good morning?”

“So we lie.”

“As if you’ve ever had a problem with that.”

It left you so immediately and so flippantly, and you felt Ben go tense beside you. You glanced toward him and found his expression closed off, eyes focused heavily on the tile of the kitchen floor.

“...I’m sorry,” You murmured, hands shifted around the mug. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No?”

“Nn-nn. I was teasing. Shitty joke.”

You saw Borracho nod slowly, and you took a deep draw of coffee, ignore the burning splash of it in your stomach.

“Okay,” You cleared your throat as you turned, setting the mug down. “I’m gonna put my pants on and head out.”

“Could stick around.”

“I already folded your clothes and did your dishes, that’s all the free labor you’re getting out of me today.”

“I meant to get breakfast.”

You took the sight of Ben in—the slight hunch of his shoulders as he leaned against the counter, the curl of his hands around the edges of the faux-marble, and speculative, almost warm gaze that he was giving you.

“But it’s,” You nodded over your shoulder, “It’s a you and Liv day. I don’t wanna take away from your time with her.”

“You won’t.”

“Ben.”

“You don’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Ben reached out, swatting your hip. “Go get dressed—and use the mouthwash on the counter. Your breath stinks.”

“Shithead.”

“Swear jar.”

Breakfast should’ve been the end of it, but Olivia had insisted that she show you this really cool thing she learned how to do on the monkey bars (which turned out to be just…Knowing how to cross the monkey bars). You’d been ready to tell her that you ought to head home, but Ben had caught your eye, smiled, and given you a small nod. Maybe he really had felt bad for making you come over the night before—or maybe he just understood how badly Olivia wanted to show you her skill on the monkey bars. Whatever it was, the two of you had watched Olivia zip around the park as her sugar high kicked in, and spent nearly two hours at the park with her.

You glanced into the backseat now, smiling at her slow, hazy eyes as she peered through the window.

“I think someone’s gonna have a little rest when you get inside,” You murmured. Ben hummed as he pulled the car into a parking space behind yours.

“You got plans for the rest of the day?” He asked.

“Oh,” You sighed, stretching and squirming in your seat. “Just the usual stuff. Laundry, groceries…Got a couple of little maintenance things.”

“Anything you need help with?”

“No, I’ve got it.” You unbuckled your seatbelt, twisting in your seat to get a better look at Olivia. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay, hon?”

“Mmhm.”

“I love you.”

“Love you. Mwah.”

“Mwah,” You blew her an air kiss before you turned to Ben. “I’ll um—I’ll see you tomorrow, too.”

“Yeah.” For a moment, it looked like he was teeing up to say something else, but he just smiled and hit the door lock to let you out.

At the beginning of your separation from Borracho, when you first started dropping Olivia at his place for the weekend, you spent your time digging yourself out from under the disorder and mess. After that, you sorted out your furnishings, paired down the things in your bedroom, your kitchen. You learned to shop for two people instead of three. You clipped coupons when things were particularly tight. You got new sheets and gave Ben the old one. You repainted your bedroom. You had things to do.

And you still had things to do today, but you found that you couldn’t talk yourself into doing any of them.

Every time you started to do one task or another—halfway through loading the dishwasher, a quarter of the way through separating your laundry out, in the middle of checking the contents of your fridge for expiring or near-expired food, you wound up lost in thought.

Holding a mug just over the dishwasher. Eyeing one of Olivia’s ankle socks and one of your ankle socks as you failed to find either of their partners. Sitting criss-cross applesauce in front of the fridge and staring blankly at the drawers.

Sleeping with Ben had felt so…Good. The two of you hadn’t fucked, obviously, but you’d forgotten how nice it was to just be asleep with someone. You’d missed it a long time ago, sure—when you’d started sleeping alone, you used to build a wall of pillows up behind yourself, just to feel cradled. It hadn’t been the same, and after a while, you hadn’t really needed it anymore. But you’d roused a couple of times last night—not fully, just awake enough to note your surroundings and drop back off—but Ben had been holding you. His body had been pressed so firmly against yours, his rough cheek against your neck, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other stretched out under your head. Maybe it was his little shifts that had woken you up—the little flex and loosening of his fingers around your shirt, or his nuzzle and sigh as he likely dropped in and out of sleep himself.

How long had it been since he’d been asleep with someone? You’d heard about dates, but you hadn’t heard about girlfriends. Had he had any? Did he curl up with them like that? Did they do his dishes, fold his laundry? Go through his fridge?

Well, they at least hadn’t done that last one—if they had, you wouldn’t have found that mustard.

You shook yourself from the thought, leaning back from the fridge with a grumble of, “No. No.” You weren’t going to torture yourself thinking about one freak occurrance—Damn, your knees really were really that loud, no wonder Ben had heard them a couple of weeks ago.

You shut the fridge, reaching into your pocket for your phone. You hadn’t bothered with dating apps in so long, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. At best, it could push you out of this mental rut and get you back into a flirty mood. At worst, it could scare you off from dating again for god knows how long. It wasn’t as if Ben had ruined you for other men. And there were plenty of fish in the sea, weren’t there?

“Welcome to the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.”

Alyssa looked just a little too gleeful for your liking as she said so, swiping through your Hinge matches. You scoffed, turning to watch the kids attempt to field ground balls. They were all failing spectacularly, and adorably.

“It’s not that bad,” You grumbled. And it was true, it wasn’t that bad—it was so much worse. You’d been on the apps for precisely three weeks, and so far you’d had 10 conversations. Half of those had been dead-end ‘hi’s, three of them called you a MILF, and two had just opened with, feet pics?

You had held off telling anyone that you’d signed up for the apps, but you’d needed to commiserate with someone, and you knew that Alyssa had recently braved the exact same horrors.

“It’s not that good, though—6’4, so—”

“Probably 5’9.”

“You okay with that?”

“I mean,” You shrugged, “That’s Ben’s height, so whatever.”

“Mm…This one isn’t holding any fish…But I also can’t tell which one he is, it’s all group pictures.”

“Swipe left.”

“On it.”

“When’s the last time you went on a date-date? I mean not just, like, coffee or drinks, like something that felt substantial?”

“Pfft, shit girl, I don’t know,” Alyssa shook her head. “It’s been a while…Actually might’ve been Gus.”

Damn. Your last real date had been Ben. You perked up as Olivia bent down to scoop a ball up—and missed it entirely.

“I’m starting to think all of the kids should get their eyes checked,” You muttered.

“So should this guy,” Alyssa tipped your phone toward you. “Jeff, 42. 'No fatties, baby mamas, no gold diggers.’ As if this slob has any gold to dig.”

“Please swipe left on Jeff.”

“Bye-bye Jeff—oh shit, wrong way—Oh, you matched!”

“What!” You screeched, taking the phone out of her hand and hurriedly opening the conversation, fumbling with the controls, “Oh shit, shit shit, he’s already typing—Shut up!” You nudged Alyssa as she tipped her head back with laughter. “You are banned from swiping duty.”

“It was one—One mistake—”

“Heck no. You can’t be trusted.”

“The hell are you two witches cackling about over here?”

You glanced up as Henderson neared, eyeing your phone.

“Mind your own business,” Alyssa nodded back toward the field. “Isn’t there something else you should be doing?”

“You’re making a racket and distracting the kids.”

“Oh please—”

“We’ll keep a lid on it, Gus. Sorry,” You offered.

“Thank you—You see how easy that was?” He asked, pointing toward you.

“Go mind someone who needs minding,” Alyssa scowled. Henderson shook his head, turning to head back toward the kids. You looked down at your phone, eyeing the next profile.

“...I think he saw your phone,” She muttered.

“Hm?”

“Just saying.”

“So what?”

“Long as it doesn’t matter to Ben, either.”

“It wouldn’t.”

“You sure about that?”

You frowned at the insinuation before you looked back toward the field. You saw Ben looking toward the two of you as Henderson leaned into him, speaking into his ear.

“...Yeah,” You shrugged, forcing your focus back on your phone. “He dates, I’ve been…Out with people. We’re adults.”

“Mhm.”

“Alyssa.”

“No, sure! Sure.”

The sight of Borracho’s name popping up on your phone was as unexpected as it had been last time, and you were practically out of your bed before you answered. You’d had a few uninterrupted Fridays, but you’d sort of wondered when he’d wind up needing to call you again.

“Hey,” You answered. “Give me five minutes to get dressed, I can be over there—”

“You don’t—That’s not why I called.”

You frowned, stilling in front of your dresser. “Oh…Kay? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.”

You tentatively lowered yourself to sit on your bed again, brow furrowing.

“So you called because…?”

“I thought we could talk.”

“About what?”

“Anything?” And then he seemed to think of a better response, hurrying to add, “I just feel like we haven’t spoken much outside of pick-up and drop-off, since we didn’t really, um—We didn’t get the chance to talk after practice yesterday.”

That was true—a thunderstorm had moved in, cutting practice short and sending everyone scrambling for their cars.

“I guess not,” You scooched back. “How are you?”

“M’alright.”

“Yeah?"

“Yeah.”

“Work?”

“It’s uh—” He drew in a long breath, exhaling, “You know. It’s how it is.”

"Really painting a picture for me, detective.”

“What about you?”

“It’s good, work’s fine.”

“Good.”

It was clear from the silence that ensued that you each expected the other to go on, but for a moment, neither of you spoke.

You offered, “So—” as he said, “Listen—” And then each when quiet again, soft chuckles huffed out on either side of the phone.

“Sorry, go ahead,” You offered.

“I was just…I don’t want you to get annoyed.”

“Did something else in your fridge expire?”

“No.”

“Not sure I believe you.”

“You owe me a new mustard, by the way.”

“Deduct it from the monthly.”

“I will.”

“What were you gonna say that you thought was gonna piss me off?”

“If you start—I mean you never know what it’s gonna be like with someone in person, you know?”

And no, you didn’t know, but Borracho pushed on before you could ask him to clarify: “I can just be around, or have one of the guys come get you—”

“Ben.”

“—Or run a background check, ‘cause—I mean there are whackos out there.”

“I know, I’m speaking to one right now.”

“What’s the name on the profile?”

“I meant you, doofus—Henderson told you?”

A guilty pause, chased by a muttered, “He mentioned it.”

“Oh, my god.”

“I’m just saying—”

“I’m hanging up.”

“No no no, hang on. Wait.”

You listened as he shifted in his seat on the other end of the phone, and suddenly you were so immeasurably glad that this wasn’t a conversation you were having in person. Of all things, you could never successfully hide your embarrassment from Ben—your lip-gnawing, hand-wringing, the way you scrubbed your sweating palm across your heated cheek and did your best to look anywhere but his face. But what did he look like now?

Was he rolling your eyes at your perceived overreaction, or did he have that sweet, contemplative look that he got when he was trying to figure you out, that little pinch between his brow and puckered purse to his lips? Was he on his couch? In his kitchen? Was he calling you as he laying down on his grey sheets, his head on a mismatched pillowcase?

Any and all prospects made you squirm as you stared at the storage bin at the end of your bed, wishing that there was a way to crawl out of yourself and fold up inside, surrounded by clean sets of sheets and extra towels and old pairs of pantyhose that you would probably never wear again, but couldn’t bring yourself to throw out.

“I’m not trying to be a dick, alright? I just…I wanna know that whoever’s around you is a good person.”

“I wouldn’t bring a bad person around Olivia.”

“I know that, but right now, I’m not talking about Olivia—Not just about Olivia. You should have someone good…You deserve someone good.”

Your heart sank into your stomach as his tone softened and quieted. For a moment, you wondered if Borracho was thinking of crawling out of himself and curling up in a storage bin, too.

“I’ve had good people. I know what they’re like. Hell, I married one. Had a kid with him, too.”

“This a relationship you never told me about?”

“Stop that,” You chided softly. “You’re a good man, Ben. You know that.”

“...Yeah.” It was a gritty and flat reply, and you were almost certain that he didn’t believe it himself, that he just wanted you off his back.

“Anyway,” You pushed on, “I will keep your offers in mind. Might even take you up on them.”

“Good.”

“And you’re always welcome to ask me to fake an emergency if you’re ever on a bad date, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Sure. Make me sound like a real nightmare. You wouldn’t have to try all that hard.”

“It’d be a tougher sell than you think.”

You smiled, sliding down against your pillows.

“It’s very sweet of you to lie, Magalon.”

“‘M not lying.”

“If you say so.”

“Scout’s honor.”

“You were never in the Scouts…And it’s sweet of you to worry.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Now he was rolling his eyes, you were certain. You smiled, closing your eyes and resting your head back against the pillows.

“What did you and Liv get up to tonight?”

“Devon and Henderson came over for pizza.”

“I’m assuming that’s when he mentioned the—Right?”

“Pleading the fifth.”

“Oh, please.”

“I do not recall.”

“No, sure.”

“What’d you get up to?”

“Oh—Went to Home Depot. I’m thinking of redoing the bathroom—Alone,” You tacked on hurriedly.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“I can handle it.”

“I’ve seen your Pinterest boards and the shit you like on Instagram and I don’t think you can.”

“That is so rude. And stop creeping my social media.”

“I’m not creeping.”

“Really.”

“I’m just gonna politely ask that you forgo any use of shiplap.”

“How the fuck do you know what shiplap is?”

“You weren’t the only one in that apartment when you had HGTV on.”

“I thought you weren’t paying attention.”

“I tried not to, but after a while it’s impossible to block out.”

It wasn’t every Friday per se, but every other week or so, one of you would call the other.

It was supposed to be the exception to the rule, those late-night calls—the ones that had everything to do with the two of you, and not nearly as much to do with Olivia. You felt a little guilty for that, sometimes. For so long, she was the only reason that you had the lines of communication open with Borracho. But when you called one another, both knowing that Livvy is asleep, there wasn’t even a hint of pretense that you may be calling to talk about her.

Borracho still teased you, still prodded at the open wound of your attempt to get back into dating. And you did go on a couple of dates, but none of them felt right. The guys had been nice, polite, but…But things hadn’t flowed. It wasn’t that you hadn’t felt a spark—you’d given up on that hope and notion a long time ago.

But for every awkward pause, your mind piped up in the most unhelpful way: Ben would know what to say right now.

“I’m not going to lie, I’m…A little surprised that you suggested this.”

Truth be told, you were a little surprised, too. The first couple of months of the new schedule with Borracho had been a godsend at first. You had more time to run errands, clean up around the house, spend some time with friends, and just have some you time. But…On some Fridays, you just didn’t know what to do with yourself. Your friends weren’t always free to hang out, and sometimes you missed having another heartbeat around the house.

Asking Jessa to hang out had been a snap, last-minute decision. You weren’t regretting it…Yet. She’d recommended a bar that you’d never heard of, with cocktail names that were frankly a little bit embarrassing to request—but they were tasty, and just the perfect kind of strong.

“I’m glad you did, though!” Jessa hurried to add. “Honestly, since the divorce, I haven’t gotten out all that much.”

You nodded, folding your arms on the table. “I know the feeling. After Ben and I split, I spent all of my time home with Liv. I was trying to fix everything, like patching holes in a sinking ship.”

“Ugh, I know exactly what you mean.”

You watched as Jessa shifted in her seat, toying with her straw.

“Can I ask…I mean—” She cleared her throat. “I’m going to say something and I really hope that it’s—”

“Sure, you can ask him out.”

Jessa’s lips parted in surprise, and you couldn’t help but smile. She huffed a stunned laugh, her hands coming up to try and shade some of her embarrassment.

“Oh my god!”

“It’s alright.”

“Was I that obvious?”

“A little. So, you gonna do it?”

“I’ve been thinking about it?” Jessa’s nerves were plain on her face, her fingers swirling the straw so quickly that you were a little worried some of it would spill over the sides. “I mean, he’s very nice, and he’s sweet…And hot. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

You couldn’t argue with her on any of those points. And to your surprise, it wasn’t eating you up the way that the thought had a couple of months ago. At least…The welling of petty jealousy that had reared its ugly head when you first saw Jessa squeezing his arm at practice felt a little more quiet now. Maybe you were more settled than you’d thought you had been on the idea. Maybe all you had needed was a little more time to yourself.

But that wouldn’t explain the little nagging pit in your stomach that told you this still didn’t feel right.

You could warn him, right? You could just let him know what was coming. Jessa had your blessing, but you could just warn Borracho that she was going to ask him out…Couldn’t you?

You stared down at your phone, blinking a little blearily. You’d had one more drink than you should’ve—your head had been spinning in the back of your Uber on the way home. You’d already texted Jessa to let her know that you’d gotten in alright, and to thank her for hanging out. But your finger hovered over the phone icon beside Ben’s name.

It would be normal to call him. Right to, even. You’d been calling one another so regularly that it would be weird if you didn’t call him. So—

Chicken fingers first, actually. Put the phone down. You could make chicken fingers and fries in the air fryer. Put those in to cook and just have to quick call with him while those—No, you would want to eat them as soon as they were done. Okay. Put the phone down and put the food in the air fryer. Have some water while you wait for it to be ready. Eat, then call Ben.

That was a good plan. That was the best plan you’d had all day.

You knew halfway through your second chicken finger that you weren’t going to call him.

The resignation of it sat steadily with you as you watched the Dodgers blow their lead, sending the game into extra innings.

What if Jessa changed her mind and decided not to ask him out? Then he’d just be waiting for a shoe that was never going to drop all because of your big mouth. No. You weren’t going to call Ben—not tonight, anyway.

You polished off your food, had a liquid IV, went to bed, and woke up with a mild hangover and no regrets.

“Oh boy,” You chuckled, leaning back against your car and folding your arms across your chest. “Someone looks all tuckered out.”

Olivia just grumbled as she slouched past you, sliding into the backseat of the car. You peered inside, watching her tip her head back against the seat, closing her eyes.

“I’m getting the feeling that bedtime wasn’t strictly mandated last night,” You added, turning to watch Borracho amble toward you.

Damnit, but he looked good. He was still a little sleep-ruffled himself, hair mussed. He let out a similar grunt as he scrubbed the heel of his palm against one of his eyes.

“We may have stayed up to finish watching the Dodgers.”

All the better that you hadn’t called him.

“You mean the game that went into extra innings and didn’t end until 12:30?” You asked.

“Acting real high and mighty for someone who clearly also stayed up to watch it.”

“Well, I can handle my sleep deprivation.” You tipped your head to the side as he stopped in front of you. “Long week?”

“Little bit.”

“Mm.” You reached out, righting the flipped collar of his shirt. You felt the weight of his gaze as you smoothed it before folding your arms again. You expected a goad, a question from him, but you got…Nothing. You met his eye and your breath caught in your throat. There was a blend of concern and loving care that he hadn’t regarded you with in a long time. You frowned, shaking your head a little.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m gonna—” His eyes darted to the open backseat door before he pushed it closed. “I’m have something to tell you, and I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel about it.”

“Okay?”

What the hell could it be that he was so worked up about? Had someone died? Was he being transferred to another department, another sheriff’s office? You didn’t want to uproot Olivia from her entire life, but you didn’t want to cut Borracho’s access off to her, either—

“I’m gonna go out with Jessa.”

Your mouth worked wordlessly before you managed: “That’s it?”

Borracho’s concern washed with confusion, his expression twisting.

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?’”

“Dude!” You reached out, whacking him in the arm. “You scared the crap out of me!”

“Ow!”

“Oh please, that did not hurt.”

“Well—” Borracho reached out, pinching your bicep sharply.

“Hey!” You shrieked, batting his hand away.

“What do you mean ‘that’s it’?’”

“I thought you were going to tell me you were being transferred or something! God,” You sighed, leaning against the car. “When’d you guys talk?”

“Last night. Just texting.”

Even better that you hadn’t tried and call.

“You said yes?”

“I’m gonna.”

"You haven't yet?”

“Because—” He glanced toward the back of the car again. “You two seemed to be getting along. Wanted to make sure it was cool.”

You melted a little, nodding.You patted his shoulder before getting into the driver’s seat, glancing back toward Olivia and lowering her window when Borracho knocked on it.

“I’ll see you at the game tomorrow hon.”

Olivia nodded, snuggling back in her seat as she mumbled, “Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It was a surprise to see Borracho knock on the passenger window, rolling it down just enough for him to lean in.

“You’re sure you’re good with this?” He asked. You smiled, nodding.

“I gave her the green light. I don’t mind giving it to you, too, Ben.”

For all of his training, his skill, he was unable to hide his surprise from you. It took him a moment before he leaned away, patting the side of the car. You caught sight of him waving to Olivia one more time as you pulled away from the curb, and did your best to ignore the unwavering sight of him in your rearview until you rounded the corner.

---

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ;

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ;

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ;

@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ;

@winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

#Benny Borracho Magalon x Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon x You #Benny Borracho Magalon/Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon/You #Procedure

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kay-elle-cee · 1 month ago

Text

@jilytoberfest 31 Prompts: Day 9 || 514 Words || Read on Ao3 —

30 January 2005

Tucked into a little booth in the pub, Lily reaches over the table and squeezes her husband’s hand to get his attention.

“You literally checked your mobile three seconds ago,” she chides, wrapping her ankle around his under the table. “Your poor old wife can’t hold your attention anymore?”

This cheeky lamentation gets his attention, and James puts his phone on the table between them. “You are only one of those things, my love,” he grins, leaning forward for a quick kiss. “Forty-five has never looked so good on anyone else, I swear it.”

Lily snorts, “Padfoot will be furious to hear that.”

“Well, then, no need to tell him and make both our lives worse.”

The mobile on the table dings and James scrambles to grab it, causing Lily to raise a brow at him.

“Really? I’m starting to regret teaching you how to use that thing.”

Muttering a hasty apology, he clicks a few of the buttons before putting it down again and takes her hands, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

She cocks her head, eyes narrowing with a bit of trepidation. “Oh no, what have you done?”

“I can’t tell you,” he says, keeping a straight face though his eyes sparkle behind his glasses. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Oddly, that doesn’t ease my nerves at all.”

“Well hopefully this can,” a new voice says from her left. Her attention snaps to the newcomer, his voice warm and light and such a surprise to her, and she feels James squeeze one hand as his other takes the glass of white wine Harry is offering to her.

Like a bolt, she’s up and wrapping her arms around their son, forcing him to bend down to her height as she crushes him to her chest. Harry returns the embrace, grinning at his very smug-looking dad over her shoulder.

“You said you wouldn’t be able to get away from the tournament!” she cries, pulling back and holding him at arms’ length. His often-untidy hair is trimmed neatly as it usually is for Puddlemere’s active season, and he wears a team sweatshirt.

“I can’t stay too long,” he confesses, ushering her back into the booth and sliding in beside her. “But I got them to agree to a few hours’ free time and an international portkey in exchange for a small media junket they’ve been hounding me about. I’ve only ever missed your birthday dinner when I was at school, I don’t plan on starting now.”

Lily makes a sound of gratitude, slipping one hand into James’ and one into Harry’s, and gives them both a squeeze as her heart pounds in her chest and her cheeks ache with the brightness of her smile.

“You and that bloody phone of yours,” she says to James, shaking her head with amusement. “I can’t imagine the mischief you would’ve pulled if you had that when we were younger.”

James chuckles, taking a sip of her wine before pushing it over to her. “I think I did just fine without it.”

“Happy birthday, mum.”

#jily #jple #jilytober #jilytober2024 #jilytoberfest2024 #a life with you #james potter #lily evans

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makethemmilky · 5 months ago

Note

You write novels and novellas? Where can I read/buy them? Apologies if it's mentioned on your desktop page, I exclusively use Tumblr on mobile

Yes indeedy! You can find them for sale on Amazon. If you don't want to buy them outright--and I get it, putting porn on a debit card feels weird--you can also sign up for a free trial of their Kindle Unlimited program and ready pretty much anything (including all of my stuff).

Here is my only full-length novel (so far):

And here is my collection of novellas under the "Crescente Corporation" series:

If you would rather read one of those individually to see if you like the vibe, here they are individual parts:

And finally, here is my most recent novella, which is a standalone lactation/breast expansion only tale:

#pregnancy #pregnant #pregblr #preggo kink #big pregnant belly #sexy preggo #preg k!nk #sexy pregnant #breast expansion #mommy milkers

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years ago

Note

Hey did you ever end up posting that yandere plants one with the bee reader and I missied it?? Was looking forward to that one

(I have not. A drable for you, chief)

The queen has requested another harvest.

What impeccable timing.

Climbing from rubble and frayed vines, vegetation and ash falls from your hair and shoulders. Extra care is put into your wings as you brush them off for the flight ahead. Held by a loose spine, you blow the decades of dust off your new find - kicking spray particles into the air. Through water eyes you read the books cover - fuzzy tension building at the base of your nose.

It's another picture book.

They're going to love this one-

"Ahh... Achoo!... 'Cuse me."

Apologizing to the thin air around you, you unhook the fine straps of your satchel and toss the book inside. You turn your gaze to the hole in the ceiling as your wings flutter, feet kick-starting your ascent as you rise. The mellowed glow of the fog casted sun greets you first as you exit; a jungle of greenery and constructs waiting the earth below and as far as the eye could see. You climb up onto the ledge of the building and leap off into a nose dive for the ground - wings swooping into mobility before your body hits the trees. Flying lose did have its risks, but nothing beats the floral air in your hair when heading home - reminding you of those counting on your return.

Scouting the known galaxy for resources, your crew landed on this planet in a time you no longer recall accurately. Overtaken by plants of all variety, it seemed like the perfect harvest - until it wasn't. As unaccounted cargo, you were sparred the horrors they faced at the hands of the planet's few remaining natives. Asleep during the bloodbath you woke crowd by the new inhabitants of this land - sentient creatures grown from rich soil and crimes against anatomy.

Their creators feared what they had created and went to war destroying what they had birthed with their own hands - wiped out in the end by their superior strengths and numbers. Despite this carnage, they were a peaceful race and tried to rescue your crew, but failed. Finding your journals tucked into your sleeping arms they enlisted your aid as a florist in the upkeep of what remains of their home in exchange for their pollen and a roof over your head.

Base in sight, you speed through the thick fog in your descent to its open doors. A planetarium with an open ceiling has come your home in this time. You missed your comfy bed, but a hammock under the stars surrounded by those you now held dear was just as nice. You enter the building, breath fleeing as your snatched from behind. Not a step through the door and you're suspended in the air at the waist by hanging vines.

"And just where have you been, my sneaky little pest?"

Thorn-like claws grace your cheek, curving up to the crown of your head where they cautiously prod at your sensitive antennae. Amused, they chitter in delight as you struggle in your blinds - most likely held by another member of the collective. Beyond the palms of their woven hands, this one was covered near entirely in stained prickles. Violet petals spiked from the upper half of their hair and draped over their mocking grin

"You know you aren't allowed to leave without a guide. What ever would we do if our heart was taken by those savages, hm? I think a punishment is in order, don't you?"

"Seems so if they can't obey simple rules. With that lovely picture on knot tying they brought us the other day, I'm sure we can get up to lots of fun before the others figure out where we are."

Lowered closer to the floor, strong arms embrace you from behind and lead your head against their chest. Small, hanging buds sprouted up the lengths of their arms mark their class - their reddish yellow hue staking their typing. Cooing ever so cloyingly sweet in your ear, it rubs the humanoid half of its face against your cheek.

"You were scheduled to start the day with us. Don't you love us anymore? We may not be as approachable at the others, but we adore you all the same."

You swallow hard, trapped between a wall and thorns. "Thistle.... Honeysuckle.. but I can never find you two."

"But we're always watching. Can't let you get into trouble. Or pick a favorite. If you accept us as your guards for the rest of the week maybe we'll let you go. If not...."

The vines tighten around your hips - released almost instantly as they're snipped by an unseen party. You stumble forward, caught and picked up by another pair of arms.

"What have I told you two about picking on them? One more time and I'm sending you both to the greenhouse.... Are you alright, darling?"

Bright as the golden sun, their petals almost blind you as you look up. The leader, and the first floral creature you met - Marigold was your sworn protector even from those with you in their care. A strict, yet understanding calm to the storm life in the compound was. As they set you down, Thistle scoffs.

"Always the spotlight stealer. Would you keep it down before the others realized they've returned?"

It's a bit too late for that.

"Y/n? Y/n back?!"

"Oh, I was so worried I fear I may start wilting!"

"Y/n, Y/n! We have a ripe patch of peaches for you!"

From the shadows of the trees and handmade structures comes the entire horde. They push through each other getting to you and overwork your brain with their chatter. Over a dozen bodies crowded around your lone figure. Through the sea, the shortest of them swims through the crowd and manages their way up to you - head centered at your navel. Head cocked, they seem to be staring to your lips.

"Cuckoo? Is everything alright?"

They smile. Grabbing your shirt, you're bent forward into an open mouth kiss. All the commotion ceases immediately as a wave of surprises washes over them all. Patting the walls of your cheeks their segmented tongue, Cuckoo only pulls away when they're torn from you. Lifting the smaller flower by its shoulders, Thistle clenches their teeth tight.

"What on earth was that?"

The question was genuine. None of them were fully traversed in the act of kissing beyond brief tellings in the books you brought to learn more about the planet left behind for them. Agriculture and construction were common reads, but if they got lucky you'd find old story books, comics and novels. Cuckoo holds up a page from one of those very stories - the couple displayed entangled in a heat of passion with lips locked. Heads staring over their shoulder snap in your direction. You'd used the direction to scramble away and travel further into their lair.

"I wanna try..."

Even Marigold couldn't save you now. Taking advantage of your gift of flight, you dart into the air aiming for the second floor where your bedroom stood.

"I would love to help you all, but I need to get started on my letter for my queen. She has requested more pollen, and I wasn't able to get one out in the last run. As soon as it's out of the way, I can come back and we can - Ah!"

Fashioning a lasso from their vines, you're dragged down into the frenzy with no escape in the near future. As is your life with the horde.

A queen sits alone on her throne. Letter opener gripped in her palm, she stabs it though her throne as the words describing your escapade slash through her heart. Stomping the battered floor, her veil of submission cracks.

"This has gone on for too long. My garden is in shambles and so will this kingdom until their return."

The servant at her feet keeps their voice low. "My queen... Their service there is doing quite the opposite. Our reserves are at maximum capacity and with the treaty there's no need for war and needless casualties. I know of your bond and I am sorry for your lost."

Like an arrow, the queen's dagger rips through the air and anchors in the wall behind the servant. Golden blood beads in a line across their cheek. Unbridled rage and disgust seeps from her icy glare like poison. She refuses to look directly in their eye, staring off at the shoulders behind them.

"Get. This. Traitor- OUT. RIP THEIR WINGS AND LEAVE THEM FOR DEAD. if they aren't on my wall by dawn, I will take yours as payment."

Eyes wide, the servant lunges for her robes as the guards take their arms. "My lady, please! You cannot do this! I was trying to make things better! Y/n will never forgive you!"

She spits.

"And cut out their tongue."

Screams echoing down the halls, the queen curls up in her throne - clutching the pillow you kept every night and the flower you sent in your distress. Her sweet idiot of a bumblebee. Why did you have to run off? Sure she was stressed, but with her prized florist and sweet little bumblebee she could've conquered the universe. Someday you'll be in her arms and garden again - laughing the night and dawn away.

Someday

#Added queeny because I remembered you asking for one #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere blurb #yandere harem #yandere teratophilia #tw yandere #yandere writing #female yandere #yandere

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ffviidirtyconfessions · 5 months ago

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Rebirth has thoroughly drained my enjoyment of the remake trilogy. I no longer feel obligated to try and play the games anymore. I don't even want to play ever crisis. And honestly that's the one I was looking forward to the most, because that was supposed to have a game version of Advent children. But it doesn't seem like it's going to happen because of how shitty and terrible rebirth has been. I waited years for that game, just this whole remake in general, and now I just feel so drained. I, myself, only got 20 hours into the game. Just 20, and I pre-ordered the game. It is safe to say that I will no longer be playing a final fantasy game unless I see play through that I like of it.

I really, truly feel your pain here. After all's said and done, I honestly feel like the best thing Rebirth gave me was the chance to see Advent Children on the big screen. This is coming from a person who's been putting off buying a PS5 until I see a game that's worth it on it. This wasn't worth it. So I can't even imagine what it's like actually having bought it.

Even in those first 20 hours, I'm sure you already experienced so much of what I find weird, offensive at worst, and just off-putting about this game. It extends everything to such a strange point, the opening Nibel Mountain sequence being the first offender of all. Everything takes so much time to do and yet gains so little depth, oftentimes less than the original game, which had limited space. It's an insanely huge game that turns out to feel mostly empty. There's constant "upgradable collectables" around every corner, even serious story relevant corners, a required card game, chocobo racing everywhere I guess, and don't even get me started on the Chadley world intel thing that was literally for some reason just ripped out of Zelda Breath of the Wild (????). It wants to be 500 different other popular games and stops being a Final Fantasy game.

The story, too, is just as distracted. It has what I might call "interrupting cow" syndrome. Nothing is allowed to just sit. You have to see the next flashiest thing right away, even if it feels emotionally dissonant from whatever just happened. Oh yeah, let us not forget the random DEAD MOBILE GAME PULL that takes up SO MUCH TIME????? WHO THE FUCK IS GLENN LODBROK ACTUALLY OR AM I JUST A BAD FF7 FAN BECAUSE I DON'T THINK I AM- ahem. This general problem worries me most in the places that matter most to me- specifically in that they seem to want to erase Cloud's mental illness. His memory problems are suddenly credited to "degeneration" instead of what it is, which is trauma, what they always implied it to be in the first place. This escalates as the half-baked Zack alternate timeline whatever thing continues. I genuinely think they are really hurting the story by downplaying (if not removing) the emotional cores of loss and trauma in favor of... fighting fate?? The multiverse??? Something?????

All around it feels like it needed way more time in development. It feels rushed while being completely bloated with "content". It doesn't even look very good 90% of the time. I feel like they barely got used to the PS4's tools only to be stage-hooked by Sony over to the PS5.

The ending in particular (don't know whether or not you figured out what they did with it so I'll avoid spoilers) leaves me wholly unenthusiastic for the next installment. And yet I feel I can't completely look away from it. Something about train wrecks makes me need to look at them, but I completely respect your decision to step away, especially when it comes to your own hard earned money and time. If it's any consolation, you're not alone in disliking this.

Apologies for the length of this post. Unfortunately, I am an English major.

#ff7 rebirth spoilers #rebirth spoilers #not confessions #smack talk

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stormflyblue · 6 months ago

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can u tell us more about my magical girl au? I love hearing about aus like that lol

SCREAMS!! YES!!! sorry that it took so long to respond to this, i had to write a lot and im answering on mobile where i cant type as fast!! (also apologizes for my grammar in this, i was in a silly mood) prepare for the massive info dump under the cut!!!

okay anyways! the “magical girls” are wxs (bc im biased for them) and their theme would be “sweets” and “deserts.” their outfits are based around the fluffy dreamland set + other cards that i think suit them. (ex: nene messenger of feelings combined with her afterparty with fireworks(mermaid nene)) but emu is only based off of her smile of a dreamer card bc she’s the goat and it’s her focus. she’s sort of the leader of the magical girls (sorry tsukasa!! youre my favorite but ur not the leader for this au!! i have a lot of plans for you though >:3)

HOWEVER bc rui and tsukasa dont have clear full body outfits in that set im thinking of basing their outfits on different sets. tsukasa is the most clear for me, because he’s going to be an combination of his backstage encouragement card (lilykasa) and his an unexpected classmate card. i dont have any ideas for rui but i want him to be based on a lim card of his so his hair can change during the transformation ueueueuwuuwe (；′⌒`) .

since their theme is around sweets im thinking of naming their “charm” or those things that give magical girls power “___ candy” emu’s would be “sweet candy” since she’s the leader. nene’s would be “mermaid candy”. tsukasa would be “star candy” and rui’s would be “robo candy” or “thunder candy” (IM SORRY RUI I AM NOT TREATING YOU RIGHT IN BUILDING THIS AU 🙏) the names before ‘candy’ is either based off of their cards (nene) or their overall personality or actual theme (tsukasa, rui)

the order of who turns into a magical girl would be emu -> nene -> rui -> tsukasa. emu was the first to recieve her powers and has been fighting against “evil” for a good length of time. maybe around 4-6 months. because of this she is somewhat popular around japan and on the internet. everyone has at least heard of her if theyve stayed up with the latest trends. (saki is a MASSIVE fan of her’s).

nene recieves her candy during a particularly difficult fight she witnesses emu having. (here). in this au nene is more pessimistic that gets resolved soon when she gets to know emu more. the reason she knows emu’s identity in the comic i made is because she soon realized it after emu said something eeriely similar to her magic girl persona. she then confirms it during the battle and as she realizes the reason for why emu fights, she is determined to reciprocate those feelings to her. thus, she recieves her candy.

tsukasa and rui im not sure yet but i want it to be an accidental encounter. maybe during a show they have an enemy appears and they have to fight, thus leading tsukasa and rui to find out their identity. im still not sure how to make the enounter different for tsukasa and rui since i want there to be at least some time for nene and tsukasa to get popular on emu’s level (or at least close to it).

the “big bad” that magical wxs is fighting is called project DULL. it’s…nightcord… yeah. the enemies are n25. they have tragic backstories and i really want to see them snap at someone sooo /lh. haha! no actually though i want n25 to have another secret persona that NO ONE knows the identity to. even themselves. they work together but they have no idea of the real person theyre working with. yes, they still in n25 together working on songs but they also work together as the main “villains” (wink wink. nudge nudge ;3). a few times one or more of them come to their nightly vcs more tired than usual and theyre suspious but brush it off thinking “oh they must have had a more exhausting day than usual, i wont pry but i’ll tell them to take care of themselves!”

virtual singers and sekais still do exist in this au by the way! im also thinking of making each group into a villain fighting group but i have no idea where to start with that and i think my brain would implode trying to think of all of their lore in one go soo no mention of them here lolol.

project DULL wants to reset the world to a state where everything is neutral. no positive emotions, no negative emotions. no sicknesses either! the main reason they oppose magical wxs is bc n25’s “neutral” is tasteless (or at least that how i think) and wxs is based around sweetness and the different flavors of everything.

there are many other things i want to explain about project DULL and others associated with them but that would be spoliers and it would ruin the surpise!!! one last thing about them is that theyre based off their imprisoned marionette set and wear masks. (WINK WINK. NUDGE NUDGE)

this is all that i can think of right now. if i have any more information i want to dump i’ll just reblog. sorry if it’s a lot!! thank you so much for asking!!! <333

#project sekai #emu otori #nene kusanagi #tsukasa tenma #rui kamishiro #wonderlands x showtime #nightcord at 25:00 #pjsk magical girls au #storm’s asks!#long post

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potofstewie · 2 years ago

Text

Deja Vu

The low down: History is repeating itself and for once, Kyojuro is tired.

The things to know: Reader uses she/her pronouns, Absolute angst (I kind of got teary eyed while writing this), mentions of blood, character death, this mostly takes place before mugen train , ooc shinjuro but he's a nice guy promise, Venting, sobbing kyojuro, like literally this ray of sunshine is BROKEN, a peaceful and sober Shinjuro, Y/N is literally a bg character lmao sorry, daddy issues

Pairing: Kyojuro x Reader

W/C: A WHOPPING 3.8K WORDS, MY BIGGEST ONE YET!

Words/phrases to know:

Monstuki Haori Hakama: Traditional formal garment that would be worn as simplified attire by people in the Samurai Society (during the Edo Period)

A/N: Hey you guys, I'll come clean. This one is a doozy not necessarily in length but in the emotions I tried my best to display in this one. It's true, reader is nothing but a background character and I kinda apologize for that. I really wanted to write a fic that portrays a new leaf in Kyojuro and Shinjuro's relationship and what better way than with sacrificing Y/N? Anyway, I finally made a pinned post linking my masterlist and other stuff for my mobile users. I plan on posting this and my other stuff on AO3 probably tmr as well. I hope you guys enjoyed and DO TELL ME YOUR FAVORITE PART

It was happening again.

Kyojuro laid wide awake within his futon, puffy and reddened eyes burning the ceiling with his intense gaze. The calming silence of the night was occasionally interrupted with your pained coughs erupting from the other room. Kyojuro ran a tired hand through his disheveled mane, completely fed up with it all.

The coughing, the wheezing, the piles upon piles of tissues that were stained with spots of blood and phlegm. The never ending servings of soup, the countless doctor visits that always ended on the same confusing and irritating note.

“It’s only a matter of time.”

Kyojuro didn’t hate a lot of things in the world, but that sentence he hated the most. “It’s only a matter of time.”

A matter of time until what? Until she gets better? Until she becomes the second one to leave them? What the hell did it mean? The situation weighed heavily on the Rengoku males, tension forever present within the household. At the beginning, all three of them would listen intensely to whatever orders and updates the doctors gave. They would each take turns administering medicine and delivering soup, massaging sore muscles that grew tired of being idle under a futon. Now, however, it was only Senjuro who listened. Kyojuro, as well as his father, continued to serve your every need despite giving up on worshiping the vague and aggravating words of the doctors.

Your lover tried to keep his cheerful façade on display as usual, but as the days went on and the coughing grew louder and longer, his smile would falter and heavy sighs would take the place of his boisterous laughter. The bubbling fear and anger within him replaced his ever so optimistic and happy demeanor. There was no doubt that his family took notice of his change no matter how hard he tried to hide it, you included. Any time he would be with you, you would always ask the same things:

“How have you been, honestly?”

“Have you been eating?”

“Are you taking care of yourself while you’re away?”

“Something is on your mind, my love. What’s upsetting you?”

You were easily satisfied with the simple “I’m alright, don’t worry about me.”, “yes” or “nothing is wrong my dear, honest.” You’d always give him that smile which he loved dearly before turning your back to him, returning to the warm embrace of slumber. Kyojuro’s beaming smile would always dissipate immediately when your eyes were no longer on him, fatigue tugging at his spirit. Of course something was bothering him; you were crumbling away right in front of him and he was absolutely powerless to do anything.

On the days he would be free from pillar duties, all he could do was roam the house aimlessly like a ghost who couldn’t pass on properly. Even at night when sleep couldn’t find him, he would wander the halls. His frame would always buckle and slide against the walls, silent tears covered his cheeks every time as he curled in on himself. This all felt like Deja Vu to the flame hashira, every second he experienced was just another second he had already gone through. However this time he would be the grieving partner. He was grateful, though, that instead of turning to alcohol like his father did once upon a time, he stuck to wandering like a stray dog.

Kyojuro grew to envy his father when your illness took a turn for the worst. He took notice of the lack of sake present in the house and the ever growing moments he and Senjuro would catch their father outside his room. He took note of how attentive his father was to your every beck and call, even to those that didn’t require him or ask of him in the first place. Even without being told he would do his damndest to ensure his would be daughter-in-law is alright. Opening the Shoji to let the sunlight flood into the room, cooking hot meals for the house and giving you the largest servings, taking up extra chores so Senjuro could keep you company. All these things Kyojuro wished he had the enthusiasm for. He loved helping you, truly, but his determination had depleted almost completely.

Rubbing his eyes, Kyojuro sat up, a heavy sigh leaving his dusted red nose. The corners of his mouth twitched, heavy with sadness as a revelation dawned upon him. His father was probably doing this out of habit, out of fear. He faintly remembered what it was like when his mother was sick, his father doing everything he could when he had the time to be at home. He supposed that maybe doing all of these things and more was a way for his father to cope with the haunting truth that another person he cared about would die due to unchangeable circumstances. Maybe, just maybe, his father hoped that things would get better and that he wouldn’t have to relive the same pain he had once experienced; even if it wasn’t him who would take it the hardest.

A single tear escaped Kyojuro’s fiery eyes, his hand quickly erasing it as he sniffled softly. No, the one to bear the pain the most would be him. It was his turn now, and no amount of soup and small conversations his father offered to the family’s source of light would change that. Getting up from his futon, Kyojuro wondered if there had been a curse placed upon his family. It couldn’t be a coincidence that this same situation would happen twice. Did a demon from his father’s past place a curse on the bloodline as it died to his blade? Damning every Rengoku to suffer absolute heartbreak?

Entering the dark hallway, Kyojuro silently stalked his way to the entrance, mind lost in sorrow. Staying in bed couldn’t help him and wandering the halls wasn’t something he was up for. Instead, he aimed for the fresh, crisp night air to fill his lungs and clear his mind. Oh, how he wanted so badly to purge the sickness in you and toss it to the farthest reaches of the earth. He wished to take you out to all your favorite restaurants again, to go on a picnic with you again, to bear witness to you playing with Senjuro under the cherry blossom trees again. He missed being able to kiss you during the cold winter nights that only a lover’s embrace could heat up. He could no longer give you the sweet kisses you had once pleaded for, your illness putting a stop to most intimate tokens of affection you were both accustomed to.

As a heavy sigh left his lips, Kyojuro opened the shoji and blinked in surprise. His father, broad back facing the house and his eyes focused on the sky above, was sitting on the engawa. Legs hung over the edge, a half empty cup sitting next to its owner. Shinjuro turned around slightly, acknowledging his son.

“I couldn’t sleep.” He explained softly, turning his attention back to the dark sky, the bright moon the only thing decorating the endless dark abyss. Kyojuro closed the shoji behind him and took a seat next to his father, burning eyes gazing at the cup in suspicion before looking at his father in silent question. Shinjuro picked the cup up and slightly turned it. “It’s just water.” He said simply, resting the cup on the other side of him before resting his hands in his lap.

“I..couldn’t sleep either.” Kyojuro said softly, hesitation ladened in his sleep-deprived voice. Although things within the house had gotten better since you entered his life and the lives of his family, Kyojuro still had a slight problem conversing with his father. You managed to change his father for the better, instead of heaps of sake littering the house only one or two bottles were kept in the kitchen before his father made the decision to get rid of it entirely once you fell ill. He started to eat with the family, although he barely spoke, only talking when answering a question or giving Senjuro or you his praises for the meal. He started training Senjuro in simple hand to hand combat, leaving the sword work to Kyojuro. He even had daily, lengthy conversations with you about an array of things; from what Ruka was like to how happy the birds seemed to be that day.

It wasn’t easy but progress was slightly made between the father and son. His father started returning any greetings he was given, he waited alongside you and Senjuro when Kyojuro finally arrived home from a grueling mission and even confessed to him that he was proud of him being a hashira but still preferred it if he turned away for his own safety. But, all of that still didn’t quite quell the nervousness Kyojuro had when it came to him.

“I know. That’s why you’re here, Kyojuro.” He remarked quietly, taking a sip of his drink. If he focused hard enough, he could’ve sworn that there was a twinge of tease hidden in his father’s voice.

“R-right.” He replied, voice barely above a whisper. For a few pensive moments, there was a cold silence between them. Kyojuro furrowed his wild eyebrows slightly, oh how awkward this all was! He didn’t know what to say to his father, even if he did he still wasn’t sure if he should voice it. He was in an intense battle with himself and by the looks of it, it was going to end in a draw.

One part of him wanted to vent to his father, to tell him all of his frustrations and woes about the depressing situation all of them were currently in. He wanted to bawl and curl up by his father, have his hot tears soak through the clothing on his father’s shoulder. He wished to be a little boy again, to trip and scrape his knee and have his father pick him up like he used to and comfort him. To hear him say: “It’s alright little one, you don’t need to cry anymore. I’ll patch you up, good as new.” like he used to. To plant a loving kiss on the top of his head and rock him in his arms. To call him a big boy when he was finally at ease and say how proud he was for being brave. All that he wished to have again.

The other part of Kyojuro, however, wanted to keep the peaceful silence between them. To just gaze up at the moon with his father and bottle up his emotions; to burn through it all passionately as he usually would. But even Kyojuro knew that would end in failure. He wanted to be as strong as he could, to bear it all on his tired and weakened shoulders. To give hope to his father -and to himself- that things would be alright and that you would bounce back better than ever. That you would play with Senjuro again, that you would do morning stretches with his father again in the garden, that you would plant millions of loving and passionate kisses all over Kyojuro’s face.

As the young man sat in silence, mind ravaging with his thoughts, Shinjuro broke the silence with the clearing of his throat. “I..think it would be best for the two of you to get married as soon as possible.” Kyojuro turned his head to his father, his puffy eyes blown wide as his father continued to stare at the sky. “It..would be best for all of us if there was one last good memory to hold onto.” With that, he finally gazed at him, tired eyes drinking in the clear signs that his son was crying earlier.

“Oh, um, yes. You have a point…I’ll bring it up with Y/N tomorrow morning.” Kyojuro muttered, calloused hands slightly gripping his yukata. Kyojuro’s gaze lowered to his lap as he tried to figure out how to pose his question. “Um, father?” He called out. Shinjuro answered with a gruff hum, taking another sip of water.

“Father, Y/N..isn’t going to get better, is she?” Kyojuro could feel his ears heat slightly at his question. He sounded like a small child that couldn’t grasp the concept of someone he cared about dying. He reminded him of himself once upon a time. Shinjuro grunted again, looking at Kyojuro.

“She won’t, Kyojuro.” He answered simply, flaming eyes once more concentrating on the moon. Kyojuro’s bottom lip twitched at the obvious confirmation, a painful lump slowly forming in his throat.

“Father?” He started again, picking at the hangnail that resided on his pointer finger. Shinjuro sighed softly and leaned back on his palms.

“Yes, Kyojuro?” He answered patiently, completely understanding the heavy task he was assigned once Kyojuro sat next to him. He knew how fragile his son currently was and he knew just how painful it was. Nobody was by his side when Ruka fell ill but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t be the lighthouse for the ship his son sailed on, horrible waves from the daunting storm threatening to capsize him.

“It’s all useless, isn’t it? The doctor visits and the soup.” He started, worry taking the reins and causing him to talk faster. “A-As well as the medication and the massages and-”

“Kyojuro.” Shinjuro interrupted sternly, shocking the young man and causing him to look at his father with worry plastered on his face. An iron gaze was focused on the young man’s sorrowful features. A sigh flew from the older man’s lips as Kyojuro looked back down at his fingers, eyes covered in a sheen film. “It may all seem useless, hell, it might actually be. But those things..bring her ease. It brings Senjuro ease. It gives them hope and it would be cruel to just stop it and force them to face the grave truth.”

“Right, I apologize.” Kyojuro said meekly, lolling his head back to keep from sniffling. A tender yet battle-worn hand rested on the top of Kyojuro’s head, giving him a slight pat before leaving his messy hair.

“It’s alright, Kyo.” Shinjuro reassured softly, sitting up straight again. He dithered, unsure of how to say his next words. If one thing Shinjuro wasn't good at, it was being reassuring. But, his son needed him and he truly didn't want to let him down this time. Never again, he silently vowed to himself as he took a deep breath, lips parting slightly.

“It’s okay to feel this way. I don’t have to tell you how hard this all is and how awful everything feels. But just know that I won’t leave your side for any of it. I’ll be there to hold your hand through it all and I’ll make sure that you don’t end up like I did. I promise you, Kyojuro.” He finished, a small yet reassuring smile resting on his lips. Kyojuro looked at his father in both bewilderment and comfort. For the first time in a while, Kyojuro was finally receiving the love and care that he had longed for from his father for a long time. With a slight nod, Kyojuro once more looked down in his lap, fingers tightly woven. A single tear finally broke through, leaving a small dot on his clothing.

“Father, I..I’m so scared. I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know if I can keep being cheerful anymore. I’m so tired, father. I feel like I'm lying to her, lying to myself. And I can't stand it, I just-” And with the last word to leave his trembling lips, a struggling wail escaped Kyojuro’s throat. Rapid streams of tears left his screwed shut eyes as his shoulders convulsed, rough hands frantically trying to wipe away the stains on his crimson cheeks however they just kept coming even stronger than before. Large hands grabbed the side of Kyojuro’s head and shoulder, pushing him into a tight hug. Soft hushes filled the heavy night air as Kyojuro’s wails grew louder and became filled with incoherent babbling.

“I don’t wan’ to lose her, I hate it. I hate it all! I-I wanna save her but- but I can’t!” Kyojuro spoke through an agape frown, drool beginning to leave his mouth while his hands gripped the back of his father’s yukata tightly as Shinjuro’s hand rubbed his back. “P-please, Papa, help me, Please!” He pleaded, voice muffled as he buried his head further into his father’s embrace. Shinjuro’s lower lip twitched slightly before burying it on the top of his son’s head, placing a soft kiss in the blond tresses.

“I know, Kyo, I know. I’ll help you out, don’t worry. It’s okay, my son...I promise.” Shinjuro whispered as the gut wrenching sobs left his son’s lips. Shinjuro hated it all too. He hated seeing the memories of Ruka’s final moments every time he visited you. He hated seeing Kyojuro slowly turn into a shell of his former self, he hated looking into the mirror that was his son. He hated seeing younger Kyojuro within Senjuro, always trying his hardest to raise everyone’s hopes and quietly asking him if Y/N will for sure get better; always being met with vague answers. It was all Deja Vu to the older man, as if he was watching the past play out right in front of him but ten times worse. They hadn’t even gotten married yet, let alone have one or two children. Shinjuro could feel nothing but the sorrow and anguish within his battered heart beating loudly in his ears as Kyojuro finally succumbed to his emotions.

Shinjuro started to slightly rock his son side to side as burning tears soaked through his clothes. He didn’t mind not one bit. He would have all of his clothes drenched in the salty tears of his children if that is what they needed. He would rock them and comfort them as many times as they requested, no matter how big the issue was or how old the children were. It was his responsibility as their father to do so, as well as something he owed to them for all the years of negligence.

Kyojuro’s wails died down to occasional sniffles and heavy breathing. His grip on his father slightly loosened as he partially uncovered his bloodshot eyes, gaze resting on nothing in particular. “What..am I going to do? I love her so much, it hurts. It hurts so bad. I feel like I can’t breathe, my lungs are burning. I-I’m so tired, Papa.” Kyojuro mumbled, no longer caring about how childish he seemed calling his father “Papa”. That’s what he was after all, Papa. Papa the Brave that chases the demons away every night before bed and when he’s away from home. Papa the Strong that can carry both his children and his wife on his body, carrying them throughout the house as tiny, sweet giggles filled the air. Proud Papa that teaches his sons how to hold a sword and praises them when they beat the air with wooden swords. Loving Papa that coats Mama in sweet kisses when he comes back home. Helpful Papa that saves little boys with snakes from sorrowful places and wipes his children’s faces every meal time. His Papa.

Shinjuro sighed softly, rugged hand traveling in his son’s hair. “I’m sorry, Kyojuro. There isn’t much you can do but be there for her. Love her as much as possible no matter what. Try to make her happy every day, even if you feel like giving up. And when you do feel like giving up, find me. And I’ll carry you.”

Kyojuro sniffled as his body felt the brunt force of fatigue. His wild eyebrows furrowed as he began to succumb to the sweet luls of slumber. “Okay, Papa..” Softly leaving his lips as he finally slept, Shinjuro kept his steady rhythm of rocking until the morning sun crested the horizon, birds singing their wake-up songs to the once still Earth.

A warm, gentle breeze traveled throughout the lively forest as boisterous laughter filled the air. Shinjuro chuckled softly as he watched his two sons walk briskly ahead of them, jokes and funny stories exchanging between the two. Kyojuro laughed loudly again as Senjuro entertained him with a funny face in the middle of his story, swinging the picnic basket in his hand.

“Kyojuro!” Shinjuro called out, his sons giving him their attention. “Try not to laugh too hard, remember? You’re still healing.” He reminded the young man, gesturing to the bandages that were wrapped around his torso, hidden underneath his Monstuki Haori Hakama. Kyojuro gently rubbed the eyepatch that rested on his face, a habit he started to pick up when in thought, a beaming smile shining at his father.

“Don’t worry, I feel good enough to laugh. It doesn’t hurt, promise!” He assured before joining his little brother that was already ahead of the both of them and underneath the tree. Heaps of food sprawled out on the red blanket once Shinjuro finally caught up to his children, a bento and chopsticks already out for him. He sat down carefully next to Senjuro, content eyes soaking in the picturesque view that laid before him. Many trees danced with the gentle summer wind, birds swooping and diving into the canopy for their lunch. A nearby stream sang its song elegantly as the two sons conversed with each other. Shinjuro took a deep breath in, the sweet scent of the manju and flowers filling his nose.

“She would’ve liked this place, right Aniue?” Senjuro said softly, snapping his father from his silent appreciation of nature. Kyojuro lowered his chopsticks, a small smile plastered on his face. He rubbed his stomach gingerly, before turning his attention to his little brother.

“She would have. Both of them would, I reckon. However, they’d probably yell at us for being late.” He chuckled, producing a large smile from Senjuro, a smaller one from his father. “Not to mention, we didn’t make Y/N favorite food to bring with us.” He finished, laughing loudly as Shinjuro released a soft snort.

“She’d be mad at you, not me and Sen. I told you we should’ve made some but you insisted on rushing.” He retorted, Senjuro giggling softly at his father’s remark. Kyojuro chuckled sheepishly as he rubbed his neck. His father was right, of course. But you would forgive him, Kyojuro knew you would.

“Then let’s make some when we get home and give it to her. Now hurry up and eat before I end up taking everything.” Senjuro warned before quickly snatching up a mitarashi dango, eliciting a shocked and hurried response from his brother as well as a scoff from his father, joining in the competition.

Things hadn’t been fair to the Rengoku family and although things would forever change for them, one thing was for sure; no sorrowful bouts of Deja Vu would visit them. And if they did, Papa the Brave would be there.

ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ʙɪɴᴅ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴛᴏꜰꜱᴛᴇᴡɪᴇ™ 2022

#kyojuro x reader #rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #kny rengoku #kny angst #shinjuro rengoku #shinjuro #rengoku shinjuro #demon slayer angst #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro x y/n #original stew

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admirableadmiranda · 2 years ago

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Must be a Thursday because it’s time to complain about common fanon tropes in MDZS that spring from nothing in the book.

Today it’s the ever pervasive opinion that Wei Wuxian either died last at the siege of the Forsaken Battlegrounds, or deliberately let himself die. Which at least in my opinion does not fit with the descriptions of his death nor his general character in the slightest.

Now I can’t seem to figure out how to cut on tumblr mobile app and I have several quotes, so I apologize in advance for the length of the post to come. The first quote is from my own edit, the rest will be from ExR.

So the first specific mention we get about what even happened to Wei Wuxian is in the prologue:

““That’s only hearsay. Although Jiang Cheng was one of the main forces, he did not deal Wei Wuxian the final blow. Because he cultivated with modao, Wei Wuxian’s powers backfired and he was ripped to shreds.”

“Hahahaha… now that’s karma! The ghost soldiers that he created are like wild dogs, biting everyone that they come across. Serves him right to be chewed to death!””

So right off the bat, we do get that he was killed by a backlash of guidao (or modao as they call it then, but we know it’s guidao), even though they bring up Jiang Cheng first as being the one to kill him.

This tells us two things, that Jiang Cheng was there, and that while there were not enough other people there to confirm exactly what happened, there are enough to avoid the narrative of Jiang Cheng landing the killing blow. Later through the book he’ll be credited with leading the siege, not killing Wei Wuxian in specific.

Next is Wei Wuxian’s continued insistence on the fact of being ripped to pieces. He brings that up multiple times both in his own mind and in his thoughts.

Chapter 29, Dew

“Of course, it was impossible for Wei WuXian not to know what lingchi was. If somebody wanted a book called A Thousand Ways to Die Agonizing Deaths, he’d have been the person who was most qualified to write it. He raised a hand, “I understand. Then, do you know why the Chang Clan was wiped out?””

Chapter 84, Loyalty

“Fang MengChen paused in surprise. Wei WuXian, “Then what do you want? Nothing but my miserable death to soothe your own hatred?” He pointed at Yi WeiChun, who lay passed out among the crowd, “He’s missing a leg, while I was cut into pieces; you lost your parents, while my family had long since been gone. I’m a dog who was chased out of its home. I’ve never even seen the ashes of my parents.””

There are more quotes, but these are the two I recall that are just him calmly stating that as a fact and what chapters they’re in off the top of my head.

We get a little more detail when he’s talking to Wen Ning later.

“Wen Ning whispered, “Sect Leader Jiang, Jiang Cheng, brought a siege upon the Burial Mounds. And he killed you.”

Wei WuXian, “I’ll have to clarify this one. He didn’t kill me. I died from a backfire.”

Wen Ning finally looked up at him, “But, SectLeader Jiang clearly…”

Wei WuXian, “Nobody can walk safely on a single-plank bridge for their whole life. It couldn’t be helped.””

Now I’ve seen some people cite this as Wei Wuxian avoiding saying that Jiang Cheng killed him directly, and with this line and the prologue alone I can see where they’re coming from. But he’s just too adamant that he was torn to bits for me to casually accept that.

But I really do have to question the narrative that he died last, or that he did nothing to stop the slaughter, because even though we don’t see the first siege, we do see the Sunless Sky fight and the second siege, and we can extrapolate what he would have done in what is a very similar situation.

He would first attempt to talk down the mob. Would it be successful? Perhaps. Perhaps not. It definitely helps in the second siege that he has Lan Wangji on his side, but people still don’t immediately listen till the both of them start breaking things down. But you can’t say for certain that he was doomed without Lan Wangji, because he’s logical and charismatic and knows how to smack at weak points. It’s just that he’s even more effective and secure with Lan Wangji at his side.

If that failed, he would then bring the attack first before they could get to him. People seem to forget this a lot, but he was one of the main battlefronts of a war. All by himself for the most part! They literally could have not won the Sunshot Campaign without him and they know that. He is simply too strong otherwise for them to reign victorious on their own, hence the plans always involving ambushing him with hundreds of people. Even without the Yin Hufu, he is incredibly strong and in the Forsaken Battlegrounds he is at the height of his power. It is a land poisoned by and saturated in resentful energy, where a great battle was fought long ago and the people of the time did fuck all about it and eventually it became a dumping ground for people the Wen didn’t want to deal with. Even with the element of surprise, the odds are still decidedly not in favor of the besiegers.

Which leads me to what I’m pretty sure actually happened there.

Wei Wuxian is not an idiot. He knows that Jin Guangshan has orchestrated this because he wants the Yin Hufu. The Yin Hufu has no master, it will answer to any wielder. That makes it far more dangerous than most weapons because you can’t turn it off by killing its user. It will respond to the next person and be very deadly indeed. He created it during the war when he thought he’d need a tool strong enough to defeat the Wen armies. He later regarded it as a mistake, but didn’t destroy it right away because it was an effective deterrent along with him from anyone even trying to cause trouble for Yunmeng Jiang. It’s a tool of protection in that, but it does invite trouble.

He and the jianghu have seen how much damage it and he can do at once with it, two times. He knows that it’s just going to keep inviting trouble and unwanted attention as long as it exists.

So obviously the only answer is to destroy it. But things of power such as that are not easy to destroy. The metal the Yin Hufu came from survived being stabbed into the stomach of the False Xuanwu for four hundred years. It’s a little more resilient than your average metal. So he has to prepare, he has to plan how to destroy such a thing.

When he has the tools he needs, he sets out to destroy it for good. And unfortunately for him this is when the people have decided to launch an attack. It’s unknown and not implied in the text at all as to whether or not these things happening on the same day is coincidence or not, but it’s entirely possible that they planned it because he was about to weaken himself destroying a mighty tool. We don’t know. It’s just a theory.

He’s successfully destroyed the first half and all that resentment in the metal has to go somewhere. It’s not going to fade like mist. And it’s at this time when Jiang Cheng leading the siege appears.

Wei Wuxian wouldn’t have done this in the center of the village. Not where the others would have been in danger. Jiang Cheng knows the safe path to the little settlement in the Forsaken Battlegrounds. He is leading an army to kill Wei Wuxian and the Wens after everything that’s happened.

He lashes out and Wei Wuxian, already in the midst of a dangerous ritual to destroy a dangerous thing, loses control and the resentment both metaphorical in Jiang Cheng and literal in the Yin Hufu, rip him to pieces, so fine there is nothing to be found, no body to bury.

With their last protector gone so suddenly, the Wens therefore have very little time and use what they have left to hide the baby and hope that someone will survive and come back for him.

That’s what I think happened at the first siege. Wei Wuxian never intended to die, and never would have if things didn’t play out in the worst possible series of events.

Wei Wuxian’s character is built around survival, both in and out of universe. We know he’s a surviver from the beginning of his life where he lived for five years on the street alone, begging for scraps and running from dogs in a place where it snows in the winter. We know he’s a survivor when he walks off whippings from Yu Ziyuan and arrows to the side in the Xuanwu Cave. We know he’s a survivor when he survives the hell on earth that is the Forsaken Battlegrounds and walks out of it straight into a war. Never once in his life has he accepted his death as a viable answer.

Even at Sunless Sky, it is not his death he seeks, but the deaths of those who intend to kill him and his. He won’t shoulder even the weight of those who think he should be dead. He won’t let his death occur a second time if he can avoid it.

So why do people assume he chose death at the first siege? Why do they assume that he just lay down his flute and seal and let the ghost take him? Or worse, that he somehow had no idea of the attack and lost control when he saw the Wens being killed and instead of turning his anger and might to the attackers, surrendered to death himself? It is just incongruent with the Wei Wuxian we see across the whole book.

The simple answer is that people like making him a martyr who died tragically. His mission has to end in total grief at everyone’s hands but his own so that he can be a martyr and a saint who can be placed upon a pedestal. So the urge to die is added into his character where it never fits.

And Wei Wuxian has never been a martyr. He is realistic, he knows the consequences that lie before him, but he always, always, always refuses to accept death when there is a chance. And there has never been a point when there was no more hope and no more chances.

Just unlucky timing and him attempting to do his best in the face of his very few mistakes; creating the Yin Hufu and continuing to trust Jiang Cheng up to the very end.

#mdzs #wei wuxian #canon jiang cheng #Wei wuxian is not a martyr #and he never ever wanted to die #he in fact really really wants to live #so the casual acceptance of him choosing death at the first siege always pisses me off

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owlhead650 · 2 months ago

Note

Could I ask for something of choice for Ace, if you’d like?

Thank you for the ask, yes you can have more Ace content. I've written a short story that's 505 words in length about Ace and Ciel Featherstone. Check it out below.

Ace tied their hair into a ponytail and tied their hoodless collar cloak around their neck. Ace was sitting in front of a linea unica mirror and preparing for another long day of performing magic tricks. Their makeup had already been done, all that’s left is to put on their dark fancy clothes. The checker pattern, the playing card symbols, purple, blue, grey, black. It gave Ace an aesthetic that was both mysterious yet approachable.

Just as they had secured the headband for their tiny tophat the door opened behind them. “Ace dear? There you are!” It was their cousin Ciel.

“Ah, little Starlet. Have you come hoping to sneak a peek at the magician’s secrets?~” Ace liked putting some unnecessary flair into their words. It helped with readying themself for the audience.

“No, Ace. I missed the better half of your first week just because of some league business. I’m sorry.” Ciel wore a feather in her short navy coloured hair. She is the circus aerial dancer and as such her dress had to be light and sleeveless to maximise mobility. Ace wouldn’t mind wearing that kind of dress sometimes, only they’d rather not copy her.

“Don’t be sorry at all, I’ve had a great time. Your Ringmaster has been very welcoming. And Terra was there too.”

“Oh right, I suppose you and Terra have some shared history. I hope that doesn't make things awkward.” Ciel knew that Terra’s eccentric behaviour was a lot to deal with. She would most often be exasperated, exhausted or enamoured by it, sometimes all three in that order.

“If anything our dark ‘shared history’ makes things easier. Terra actually gave me a genuine apology for putting me out of commission that time. When she’s loud and disruptive I can deal with it because I know mostly what to expect. Also according to the Ringmaster about 40% of resignees at the circus cite Terra as a chief reason for why they left. How does she keep her job?” Ace tried to ask the question in a way that sounded more humorous than demeaning, instead their tone found a middle ground between the two.

“Well the kids love her and the parents hate her. Terra’s unique flavour of chaos adds a thrill to Agate Circus that has become a core part of its reputation.” Ciel explained. “Alistasia couldn’t possibly fire her, begrudgingly we’ve acknowledged her as indispensable.”

“I see. That’s practically the same reason she wasn’t kicked out of Team Meteor. Maybe my new job isn’t that different to the previous one after all.”

“Well there’s much less terrorism involved when you work for the Circus.”

“Maybe, but isn’t cornering the market with overpriced food just a different kind of terrorism?” They were only ninety five percent joking. Ace forgot to pack their own lunch one day and had to pay a ridiculous price for some crappy fast food.

“Well you’ve got me there. Ready for our show?” Ciel asked.

“I am! Your new fool has prepared all their tools.”

______________________________________________________________

So what did you think? Just now I came up with the headcannon that Ace joined Agate Circus after the events of Reborn's postgame. When everything is said and done Ace needs employment. Team Meteor isn't paying them anymore. The next best option for them is to put their magician skills to use at Agate and reconnect with their cousin Ciel now that they don't need to commit themselves to the Alcantra dynasty.

#pokemon reborn #pokemon reborn ace featherstone #pokemon reborn agate circus trio #pokemon reborn ciel featherstone #noctor writes #noctor answers

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divineprank · 1 year ago

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OKAY. NOW THAT I GOT MY SANCTIMONIOUS FINGER-WAGGING OUT OF THE WAY....

...Kinda!

I had to take a break, and sure enough, the day I WANTED to come back, the computer I use to write with fucking fried. So a friend and I tried our best to troubleshoot it. We thought the problem was the power supply unit failing, but uh, nope! Turns out my entire motherboard just went kablooey! This is perfect timing, as I just bought a fucking car and I lost the job I had. I built the fried computer seven years ago and today, I learned that the motherboard's chipset is no longer being manufactured. So that means I have two options: either start building a new PC altogether or take a gamble on a used, but compatible motherboard.

If I don't have a computer then how am I back? Am I RPing using Tumblr mobile? GOD NO. I hate navigating that app, trying to get it to do anything other than lag, destroy the aspect ratio of your icons, and demolish the formatting of your posts is just like pulling teeth...Except it's worse than pulling teeth because at least at the dentist, you can opt to get high on nitrous oxide when getting that kind of work done. PLUS UH, I don't technically have a phone. I busted mine a while back and am currently borrowing my mom's. Just another thing to spend money I don't have on. 8')

I am currently using a hand-me-down laptop that I obtained as a gift for building a new desktop computer for my dad early this year. The thing is around... 15 years old a this point, and despite how hard I tried to fix this thing, it freezes regularly, overheats and the fans constantly and the CPU just CHUGS. So far I've been able to get by doing very simple work on it and that's going to be the case for the time being.

SO...

Thanks to the limitations I am currently facing, I will be unable to use icons in my RP threads for the time being. They're saved onto the fried desktop computer and I have no way of accessing them currently. It's not a huge loss because I'm not thrilled with my icons but I know some people like to use them, so I apologize for the lack of etiquette there, haha.

Since this laptop suffers like hell doing anything even slightly taxing, I will not be picking up old RPs right now. Most of them are multiple reblogs in and are novel-length, which is typically how I prefer to write. I just know that if i try to open those threads in my drafts and make any changes to them, the browser will freeze and crash. So for the time being, I will just start new, smaller threads rather than try to work on anything I have saved currently.

I AM NOT DROPPING OUR THREADS. I VERY MUCH INTEND TO CONTINUE THEM AND RESPOND TO OUR RPS WHEN I AM ABLE TO GET MY HANDS ON A DEVICE THAT WON'T CRASH WHEN WRITING LARGER POSTS!!!

So, just to reiterate: I will be keeping everything saved and I will NOT be working on any our old RP threads due to the limitations of the 15 year old laptop that I'm currently running. For the time being, I WILL ONLY be writing and participating in new, small RPs. Thank you so much for your understanding. If you have any questions, feel free to send 'em my way!.. And as always, Gan's askbox is open! <3

#out of time. :: [out of character]#the legend of zelda rp #legend of zelda rp #zelda rp #loz rp #tloz rp #Ganondorf rp

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manic-smallishgiggles · 1 month ago

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Actually screw it okay. Both because I suddenly had a moment of brain cooperation. As established, Zam as a lee is pretty stoic and a bit of a menace at first, but becomes incredibly shy if you can get to him/somehow take away his power in the situation (I.e. getting him in a lee mood). I feel like his worst spots are his stomach and upper ribs, but his hands and neck are melt spots and are a great way to make him flustered as hell

Wemmbu is an evil ler. Because he doesn’t have many ler moods, or chances to be one, he has so many teases and tactics he’s picked up from when other people tickle him that if he’s in a ler mood, stay away from him unless you want to be flustered within an inch of your life/j (I think it would be really funny if people took damage from being flustered actually not that I think about it) I think he fluctuates a fair bit with the type of ler he is? Like one time he can be a merciless teaser that goes for all of your death spots and the next he’ll give the lee gentler tickles, just enough to keep them giggling while pointing out how they’re reacting or talking about his favorite spots on them.

Okay I’ve never written tickling so this might be terrible I apologize in advance fjdnfoefjfofj

Wemmbu bring his hand down from Zam’s shoulder to his side, and forms it into a claw, the tips of his fingers just barely touching Zam’s side. He can feel Zam tense in anticipation and huffs a small laugh before gently wiggling his fingers up Zam’s ribs.

The other man squeaks and buries his face deeper in the bundle of limbs he’s made himself while trying to stay still get away from Wemmbu’s evil tickling. The higher his tickling goes the more Zam squirms, but between the tickling fingers and Wemmbu’s body blocking him in, he doesn’t have anywhere to go. Zam tightens his grip to the best of his abilities so Wemmbu can’t get anymore space than he already has.

Wemmbu giggles, a terrifying thing for the lee in question, and butterflies erupt in his stomach. “Come on Majesty, you wanted the tickles, let yourself relax a little man, I don’t bite.”

As he’s speaking, Wemmbu suddenly vibrates his fingers on Zam’s uppermost ribs, and the man screeches and brings his arms down, trapping Wemmbu’s hands.

“Man, I knew you were a lee, but I didn’t know you wanted to be tickled this bad,” Wemmbu says casually.

Zam groans and tries to hide his head in his hands, only to immediately bring his arms back down with renewed laughter when Wemmbu wiggles his fingers against his sides.

“Wow! A smile from the Emperor Zam himself! I’m honored!” Wemmbu snickers as he teases Zam, the latter’s face so flushed it’s almost coral. (Get it because he’s yellow/silly)

“Shuhuhat uhup” Zam groans and brings his shoulders up to his ears in embarrassment.

Wemmbu raises his head to the sky, and taps his chin in thought, pretending to think over what Zam said while his other hand, still wrapped around the man’s waist gently skittered up and down his side, keeping Zam in a constant state of giggles. “Hmm… how about no! However, I think you could be giggling a little more!”

(Going to continue in a different ask because mobile Tumblr’s starting to hate the length of this ask. I’ve been writing all of the little things from the top of my head but I think this might be the longest ask I’ve done yet fjdjfidfnkdfk)

OH MY FUCKING GOD /POS I'M SMILING SO MUCH I LOVE THIS SOSOSOSOSO MUCH AUAUDGJSKEMDMFMDK CUUYETEEE

#welcome to canary's talk show #canary's fanmail #lee!zam #ler!wemmbu #unstable universe tickle

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be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie · 1 year ago

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Longass Crop Circles Notes (for Lately, I've Been Thinking and I Don't Think I've Changed Chapter One

Finally delivered to @spicymiilk our king. My apologies that these longass notes are not as detailed as last time. I shall endeavor to get more detailed as I read more of the fic. I will post my rage thoughts on chapter eight of for the nights and days of life by @mochalottie tomorrow though, and that shit will be novel length. Anyways:

Lately, I've Been Thinking:

-Me when Andrei says Spider will have a bad time: but does he ever have a good time for you??

-NORM CONTENT. *airhorn blares*

-I gotta love the tragic Shameless vibes you bring into my Spider fics, man.

-Retweet, Spider, we all hate men. We are all scared of men.

-Rip Paz, the fandom tries to tell me you weren’t a bitch but I don’t buy it. You totally were. Justice for Trudy, who was way cooler.

-Wait, did Spider do drugs too? The needles are around his bed? Or did he steal his moms bed?

-Lol, Paz is in and out, there is SO MUCH Shameless in this story. You can't hide from me, bastard.

-YESS, THE FAST FOOD AU.

-Also, Andrei, what is it about beating the natural joy and zest for life out of Spider that gets u off?

-Neteyam will lOVE fixing this guy tho. Spider is his wet dream at this point.

-I actually know a kid in my grade who was placed with one of my family friends when he was seventeen, he is fantastic. He’s the oldest of like, seven kids and the littlest ones go to the elementary school I work at now. My mom works there too and she always says you can tell when this kid is home because the little ones are showered and on time, and he takes them to get haircuts and stuff. He used to walk 45 minutes to work every day. He’s a great guy but he doesn’t stay. He doesn’t let them drag him down. :/

-Spider, on the brink of death, unloved and abused and neglected, dirty and with one single tangle of hair: hi

Neteyam: that is my soulmate.

I Don't Think I've Changed Chapter One:

-WHATS YOUR DAMAGE THE FIC? That’s the one line I quote more from any other type of media. Every day I go “WHAT IS YOUR CHILDHOOD TRAUMA??”

-N E T E Y A M VS SELF ESTEEM. MAN MANAGES TO HATE HIMSELF EVEN IN THE FACE OF SPIDER.

-Also the fear I felt when I saw Miles and Norm are best friends actually, I’m comforting myself like “no no, he meant Spider it’s okay.”

-The hilarity of getting rid of Lo’ak and Kiri who are the canonically closest to Spider and leaving us with Tuk and Neteyam and Jeytiri. That excited me lITERALLY SO MUCH. The fast food au did start with only Tuk and Neteyam, and that’s juicy. We are forced to develop and explore relationships that are underdeveloped in canon and are harder to justify as instant sparks. You took away his natural in canon support systems so he has to learn to develop even faster with the other Sully's and that is a banger idea.

-W H E E L C H A I R J A K E. God I love wheelchair Jake aus, I love making them positive because I don’t like the way the first movie just fixed his disability. Give me Jake Sully being a positive disabled male father figure in his kids lives, just as present and happy and in love with his wife while paralyzed then he would be with mobility. What creative stuff has changed in their lives to accomidate? I need to know.

-Delighted by this Neytiri pov, my god. I feel like less people than I need in my life just let Neytiri have no bad blood at all with Spider in modern aus. She would be all over a neglected child.

-GET THE STICKY TOYS, thats so cute. And useful, I need him to get the magnets some kids got stuck to the ceiling in the gym at my work.

-Tuk is already bullying Neteyam about liking Spider and he isn’t even there yet. I’m lOVING the little bits of the fast food au I spot. She is going to be a menace. And clearly Neteyam is a lovesick clown.

-He is indeed about to get the shit loved out of him, and that is what every Spider Sully writer says before writing their fic.

-WHAT DID THE MCCOSKERS DO SPIDER, NORM SHOULD KNOW, THEN HE WON’T PLACE OTHER KIDS WITH THEM BUDDY.

-Love the descriptions of how Spider feels when Norm’s body relaxes, just noting the way he backs off. So specific and accurate to any abused child. That tension and hypersensitivity to anyone's emotions, even people you implicitly trust, like never goes away.

-Norm thinking someone didn’t let Spider pee in the bathroom is so tragic and funny I feel bad for laughing.

-Spider: heart palpitations upon seeing Neteyam

Spider: NORM YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU WERE WINGMANNING ME?

I am picturing Norm and Tuk in the back of a Burger King setting up an elaborate plan while Neteyam sighs and watches Spider from a booth while writing Neteyam Socorro on all of his notebooks.

-i am cACKLING. You’ve never seen rizz as strong or as intense as “MILES??” and “WHOS THAT? WHAT’S SCHOOL, I DON’T KNWO WHAT THAT IS?” Their dumb clown asses belong together.

-In all seriousness though, I can't imagine how humiliating it would feel to Spider to know some random acquaintance at school was now privy to all your personal problems and business.

-I want to know how often Neteyam frequents the local Burger King. He's probably so embarrassed at how ready he was to big brother this kid. He's gonna be like "looking hot today, uh, I mean, did you need help with your homework champ???"

-This is now like To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, Neteyam can call Kiri and Lo’ak on the phone and gossip about boy problems

-JAKE INTRODUCING HIMSELF AS A MILITARY MAN TO EVERY CHILD THAT GETS BROUGHT INTO THEIR HOUSE, NO ONE VETOED THAT SHIT?? Kiri hasn't been like "sTOP TELLING EVERYONE YOU LOVE THE MILITARY, YOU ARE EMBARASSING US."

-Also wow does Norm not know Spider’s dad was former military and he way not vibe with that at all?

-The way that Neteyam is still stalking Spider at McDonalds Or Burger King we can’t be sure. The mention of both places has sent me to space because it makes it seem like Spider used to work at McDonalds and then switched to Burger King and deeply obsessed stalker Neteyam Sully switched establishments to frequent.

-Spider’s fear of Tuk is hilarious and deeply sad, that is your bestie.

-I LOVE love the idea of Kiri and Neteyam watching video essays. I love video essays, I wish my brothers did gOD. Also love a late night owl Neteyam head canon.

-Spider really is a wet rat. Have you ever actually seen a wet rat? The saying is so accurate. Kid was fed properly for the first time in years and then it killed him. Love kills Spider at first, as we have learned from all Spider Sully fics. He's like a dog eating chocolate, it's good, but at what cost.

#spent the whole beach week with my in the closet gay cousin andrew and thought of u king #names close enough #he's quoted in my insta bio because once he said to me #“i don't understand lesbians won't they get in each others way in the kitchen?”#pay me money to get me to believe lo'ak hasn't said that to kiri #i hope u enjoyed tho audience and andrei #i am back from vacation and missing my gay cousin aj and i'm ready to spend my entire day tomorrow catching up on fics and posting #brace urselves #if you have any more asks or want me to post another of those otp ask things now would be a good time #miles spider socorro #spider socorro #neteyam sully #nocorro #norm spellman #neytiri sully #jake sully #jeytiri #tuktirey sully #lo'ak sully #kiri sully #paz socorro #avatar #avatar the way of water #james cameron avatar #melissa og #melissa on avatar (cameron)#fic recs

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