One of the podcasts in the Audioverse Awards voting is Tales From The Radiator by Strong Branch! This is the podcast that published a few of my micro stories. It's an anthology podcast of speculative fiction, and my stories are narrated by Sammy Burchell, who does an awesome job! Here's the episode, Perceptions, if you wanna listen!
This podcast has lots of great stories from lots of authors and I definitely recommend it. My favorites are The Moth and Vows.
Strong Branch also has two other podcasts in the voting, Stench of Adventure and Strong Branching Out!
And one more thing about Audioverse: Hello From The Hallowoods is also in the voting and I highly recommend it if you love horror podcasts. It's weird, tender queer folk horror that's been very inspiring to me in my speculative fiction, especially the stories I submitted for Tales From The Radiator. So please consider checking out and supporting them if any of this interests you!
warnings: anxiety, depression, Keigo is shirtless for like half of it but it's sfw, caregiver Keigo, not proofread at all
a/n: comfort fic !! I’ve gotten 6hrs of sleep in the past three days I hope this is decent // feedback always appreciated
Keigo peered into your window, eyeing your empty bedroom. He frowned as he took note of the clutter that had accumulated there in the week he had been away; clothes strewn across the floor, half empty water bottles piled on your nightstand, partially eaten takeout containers scattered around the room. Not to mention, you were nowhere to be seen.
The worry that had taken root in the pit of Keigo's stomach grew; he had only been gone on a week-long mission, but when he returned and attempted to contact you, the radio silence he received in response sent panic through his body.
Knowing that you always left your window unlocked for him, he quickly wrenched it open and slid inside, the buzzing instinct in his brain to find you and make sure you were safe taking over.
A brief flash of relief slowed his heart when he recognized the sound of your shower running, but that relief vanished just as fast as he approached the door and heard your muffled sobs from the other side.
The water from your shower had long ago turned cold as you sat on the tiled floor, goosebumps prickling your skin at the temperature. You choked back a sob as you curled into yourself, unable to find the energy to stand.
Perhaps if the beating of water on the floor had not been so loud, perhaps if your shuttering breaths and stuttering sobs had not echoed so loudly, you would have heard the incessant knocking on your bathroom door. You would have heard the latch click open and the door swing hard enough to bang into the wall. You would have heard Keigo throwing his jacket off and ripping the shower door open.
But you didn't.
Instead, you tensed in shock at the feeling of arms wrapping around you and a warm body pressing against your own. You hiccupped in an attempt to swallow your crying as you twisted in Keigo's arms just in time to see his wild, panicked expression.
He cupped your face in his palms, hands trembling in his attempt to be gentle, despite the panic that gripped him, as he swept his eyes wildly across your figure to try to find some physical damage that would explain your distress. When he found nothing, his eyes snapped back up to your own and he let out a shuddering breath.
"Dove…" he began, willing his voice to stay steady, "can you tell me what's wrong?"
You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut and digging your nails into your palms as you felt the world spin around you and your breath quicken.
'Okay, okay," Keigo soothed, letting his thumbs work little circles into your cheeks in an attempt to comfort you. "Can you tell me how to help?"
You opened your eyes slowly and began to take in what was in front of you. Keigo looked wild, eyes wide and stricken, shoulders tense, wings twitching restlessly and pinned to his back. You knew how much it hurt him to see you suffering and you knew how much it helped him to be able to make it better - it helped you, too.
Reaching out towards him, you let your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt and tried to pull yourself into him with shaking arms. You didn't have to do much work, though, as Keigo made a noise of protest at your efforts and wrapped his arms around you, dragging you onto his lap.
His wings twitched again, wanting so desperately to wrap around you and keep you safe and hidden from the world. He ground his teeth and held back, though, not wanting to overwhelm you, especially when he didn't even know what had triggered this in the first place.
A gentle hand pressed against his cheek and he tilted his head to place a kiss to your palm, keeping his eyes trained on you.
"I haven't been… taking care of myself," you said quietly, wincing at how raw your throat felt from crying. Keigo grabbed the hand that you'd put on his face with both of his and pressed a flurry of kisses to it.
"And that's okay," he assured. You smiled weakly.
"Would you maybe…" you began, noting the way Keigo immediately perked up. You tensed your hands again and squirmed a bit in his lap. Keigo cupped your face in his hands again.
"Whatever you need, angel. I'm here."
"Would you maybe… take care of me for a little while? Just until I can again?" Keigo cooed softly, wings fluttering and shoulders dropping.
"I'd be happy to, dove. For as long as you need."
You pressed your face into his neck and let your body relax in his hold, mellowed by the knowledge that Keigo was there and he'd take care of you in all the ways you could not. As your body loosened, though, the tremors became more noticeable, teeth chattering from the cold water of your shower.
Keigo smoothed a hand down your back before bundling you up in his arms and standing, pausing to turn the shower off. As he set you down on the counter, a flurry of feathers dropped a towel on your shoulders, and you hummed appreciatively at the warmth that seeped through you as he dried you off with tender hands. Reaching out to snare your fingers in his shirt, you frowned when you realized that he was also dripping.
"Don't worry about me, birdie," he assured, dropping a kiss to your forehead. His heart fluttered at your concern as he threw your towel into your laundry and let a flurry of his feathers deposit a bundle of clothes onto the counter next to you.
"Arms up for me, love." He pulled a large t-shirt over your head and you let yourself sink into the comfort of it, recognizing it as one that came from the stash of clothes he always left at your apartment. Urging you to stand, then, Keigo kept firm hands on your waist, waiting for your legs to stop trembling and your hands to securely attach themselves to his shoulders. When he was sure you were steady, he slid a pair of his sweatpants onto you and quickly lifted you back onto the counter. Stepping away from you, he pulled the wet remains of his hero costume off and pulled on his own pair of sweatpants. When he reached for his shirt, though, your hand shot out to stop him. His brow quirked and a smile twitched on his face.
"Whatcha thinking about, dove?" His tone was teasing, but he was still being gentle, not wanting to risk making you feel worse than you already were. Your hand curled around his wrist.
"Can - can you maybe…" you began, tripping over your words as you felt blood rush to your cheeks.
"Go on," he prompted, stepping closer to you to place his hands on your thighs, squeezing them reassuringly.
"Maybe just… keep the shirt off," you mumbled, looking away. Keigo cooed and let his wings flutter before stepping closer to you, sliding his hips between your legs. He slid one hand around to the back of your neck, squeezing gently and humming happily when you sagged against his chest. He kept himself still and focused on taking deep, steady breaths while your hands slid up his torso and your palms flattened against him, keeping your cheek pressed to his skin as you listened to his breathing and steady heartbeats.
"It's just nice," you murmured, and Keigo melted at the soft, relaxed tone of your voice, "to be so close to you like this." He hummed in understanding and pulled you closer, letting you drift for a moment or two.
When he felt you begin to sag against him even more and saw your eyes flutter closed, he pressed a kiss to your head and tightened his arms around you.
"Angel, have you eaten yet?" You stiffened at his question and he was quick to rock you back and forth, cooing gently. "It's ok, love. I'm here to take care of you, remember? It's ok." With that, he coaxed you to wrap your legs around his waist, keeping his hands firmly on your thighs as he carried you out of your bathroom. He paused on his way to your kitchen, considering leaving you to rest on your couch while he took care of things, but the way you gripped him and kept your face hidden in his neck made him reconsider.
Nudging your face up with his shoulder, he gestured towards the stack of take-out menus next to your fridge. You let your head flop back down onto him.
"You pick," you murmured.
"There's nothing in particular you want?" Keigo prompted. He knew how difficult it was for you to make decisions in the state that you were in, but if he could coax you into making a few small choices, he would.
You rolled your head to the side, thinking, before squirming against him and reaching out to the stack of menus. You rummaged through them for a moment before pulling one out of the stack.
"Anything from this place."
"Good, dove. Thank you," Keigo pressed a flurry of kisses to your face, beaming at the little smile he noticed. Shuffling over to the other side of your kitchen, he grabbed a glass from your cupboard and filled it with fresh water. Setting you down on the counter, he tilted back just enough to look at you before he pressed the glass into your hands and urged you to drink while he ordered the takeout.
You sipped the water, letting it soothe your throat, as you listened to Keigo's voice; once he finished ordering, he tossed his phone onto the counter and put his hands on our sides, rubbing up and down gently and talking softly about his day - nothing important, nothing for you to focus on, just so that you could hear his voice.
Tipping the glass back to finish the last of your water, you looked up at Keigo and caught him smiling down at you.
"You're so good for me," he breathed as he plucked the glass from your hands, setting it aside, and swept you into his arms again.
Dropping you onto the couch delicately, he busied himself sorting through blankets and pillows, propping you up, tucking you in, and taking every opportunity to press quick, fluttering kisses over each part of you that he made comfortable. His brow furrowed in concentration and he made small noises of protest every time you tried to move or help him.
As he finally settled you in, stopping to admire his work and let his feathers ruffle in satisfaction, he turned to your tv, setting up a film that you recognized as one of your comfort movies. He slid onto the couch behind you, then, letting you burrow into him and the blankets that surrounded the two of you as you melted into his arms.
"You ready to talk about what's going on?" he murmured into your hair. You chewed your lip as you searched for what to say, comforted by the knowledge that Keigo would never push you further than you could handle.
"I don’t… I don't really know what it was. Sometimes things get hard and I just kinda slip, I guess. Usually…" you drifted off, letting your eyes flick away from his.
"It's ok," he soothed. "You can say anything to me." You looked back up at him, noting the love and adoration in his eyes, masked almost entirely by concern.
"Don't be upset. But, usually, you're around, so I don't slip very far."
"Oh," he responded dully, arms tightening around you. "God, I'm so sorry -"
"I told you not to get upset! Don't apologize; you can't always be hanging around waiting for me to need something." You tried to console him, but the guilt eating away at his heart was so obvious it made your own clench painfully. You wiggled out of his grip so you could sit up and cup his face in your hands.
"I love you," you said firmly. "You take such good care of me - always. You can't be here all the time, but when you are, it more than makes up for the time I spend alone."
"You do. You're here right now, taking care of me. That's what matters."
Keigo looked away and his fists clenched; he hated the time he had to spend away from you, and it drove him crazy that he couldn't always be there when you needed him.
"I just want to make sure you're ok," he sighed, wincing internally at the tremble in his voice.
Whatever retort Keigo has in mind was silenced by the sound of your doorbell, and he smiled at you softly as he shuffled away from the couch to retrieve the takeout he'd ordered while you snuggled back into the blankets, content with soothing Keigo's guilt and worry a bit.
When he returned, he pulled you onto his lap and kept his arms wrapped firmly around you as you ate quietly, half paying attention to the movie that he'd set up while you fed him small bites between your own.
When the food was cleared away, he tugged you closer and gently pressed one hand to the back of your neck, directing you to lay your cheek against his chest, while his other hand slipped under the back of your shirt to rub soothing circling into your skin. You rubbed your cheek against his chest as your eyes fluttered in an attempt to stay open - a fight that was quickly lost as Keigo cooed and clicked and lulled you to sleep. As you began to feel sleep pull you away, you burrowed further into his chest, murmuring, "stay the night?"
Keigo chuckled quietly.
"Oh dove, there's no way I'm leaving you tonight."
Amaris Fawley // from the day she was born they should have known. Her hair didn’t glow silver like the rest of her family, her eyes didn’t shine with knowledge unseen. But they shouldn’t have shut her out, locked her away, they shouldn’t have made her crave magic so desperately that it would tear her apart. It was their fault really because in the end her desperate actions resulting in their unholy demise was their own doing. She was a squib, and then she was a werewolf, but first she was family.
Revan snippet that I mentioned a while back. This is the genderfeels one so it deals with dysphoria and also dissociation, depersonalization and amnesia due to trauma aka typical Revan stuff.
The wait to meet with Dodonna was getting long. Sure, she had important things to do, but Revan felt that a galaxy level threat was probably more important than whatever day-to-day cleanup from all of Revan’s messes she was currently busy with. Revan stretched her shoulders again and Bastila looked directly at her and nodded. “It’s taking a long time,” she agreed, breaking the stale silence.
They were standing in a meeting room in the main Republic military compound on Coruscant. They had already spent an hour and a half checking in - one of the joys of being Revan, who had to submit to multiple searches to make sure she wasn’t going to pull something. The meeting room was empty except for the three of them, but there were guards posted outside just in case. Revan was weary of ‘just in case’ but she couldn’t blame them.
They were in the corner of the room - there was a table, but nobody had opted to sit down. Carth was leaning on the wall and Revan was pacing. Bastila simply stood still beside Carth and watched her. Revan could feel their stress all bouncing off each other like a growing echo. If someone didn’t come into this room soon she might just walk out there and see how close she could get to Dodonna before she was arrested. She met Bastila’s eyes and Bastila shook her head.
Carth sighed. “You know usually I don’t mind when you two talk without talking, but it kind of just makes it quieter in here right now."
Revan didn’t answer, making another lap around the table instead. Bastila turned to Carth. “They’re thinking about storming through to find Dodonna.”
Storming is a bit harsh, Revan thought. I wouldn’t actually hurt anyone. Then she kind of paused in the middle of her lap, because there was something else about what Bastila had said that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it stuck in her head.
“They are?” Carth asked. “I mean, first of all, please don’t do that, Mer. I do not want to try to convince the Republic to let you out of lockup on top of everything. But uh, if there’s been a pronoun update I haven’t gotten it yet.”
Revan looked at him, thankful that he’d put words to what she was trying to figure out about Bastila’s statement. Somehow she felt it might’ve taken her hours to realize what had stuck out to her and why. She looked at Bastila, head tilting. “I’m also confused, honestly.”
Bastila raised an eyebrow, as if Revan was failing to understand something very simple, which might be fair. “Revan, you’re nonbinary?”
Revan frowned. “I am?”
Bastila straightened up, suddenly looking a little embarrassed. “Oh, stars, that’s not how I meant to say it. I’m not trying to tell you, I just... I thought you knew? Sorry, it’s quite hard sometimes to tell what thoughts you’re aware of or not.”
Revan had not felt uncomfortable about their Force bond in a while, not since the truth was all out and they had become close. Bastila was her soulmate - it felt only natural at this point that they could feel each other’s mind’s like their own. But now she felt a little cold. Not because Bastila knew something about her, but because apparently Bastila had known something about her that she didn’t. Again.
“I...” she stopped - it felt stupid. Her head was all messed up. There was always going to be stuff she didn’t know or didn’t remember. It was silly to get worked up over it.
“No,” Bastila said. “Come here.”
Revan obeyed, crossing the room to Bastila and letting her take her hands.
Bastila looked her in the eyes - hers were always warm where Revan’s were cold, though warm also meant dark and deep and knowing. She fixed Revan with that gaze and gently pushed loose hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry. It’s not silly. The last thing I want to do is make you feel like that again. It’s not your fault - we all miss things about ourselves sometimes. And it’s not my place to say this for you. I didn’t realize.”
Revan felt like leaning into her, aching for comfort, wanting not to be separate, not to be herself, but she didn’t want to look away from Bastila’s eyes. “What do you see in me? What made you say that?”
Bastila sighed. She glanced at Carth, but Revan nodded, indicating that it was okay to talk in front of him. Bastila squeezed her hands. “It’s just a sense that I get. Just like I can tell when you’re upset or happy, I have a sense of what name or pronouns you might want to hear at the moment. It’s like... right now, you’re thinking of yourself as Revan, right? Carth called you Merith, but if asked, you would only say Revan. Does that sound right?”
Revan considered. It practically hurt to do that kind of introspection. Maybe it was part of why she was so comfortable to have Bastila in her head. Someone could help her understand herself. And she was right - Revan was focused in on that aspect of herself, perhaps because they were there because of her past.
“I... yeah.”
Bastila sighed and smoothed Revan’s hair some more. “Rev... as best I can tell, you’ve felt this way all your life.”
Revan felt her chest twisting a little. “I think you’re right.”
Carth drifted closer and squeezed Revan’s arm. “Rev, honey, you okay?”
Revan sniffled. She hadn’t realized she was crying. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Okay,” Carth said. He pulled Revan close, and then they were both hugging her. Carth rubbed her back and Bastila squeezed her shoulder, and Revan tried not to let the weight of everything so personal and small crush her right now. They were here to warn the Republic about a very real threat and instead they were dissociating and getting snot on Carth's jacket.
At the worst moment, just as Revan was pulling herself together and straightening up, the door finally opened and Dodonna stepped into the conference room, looking slightly grim and then slightly confused when she saw Revan. She didn't seem too surprised to see the Prodigal Knight red-eyed and sniffling - probably because she was used to Revan being a mess. The officers who entered behind her seemed more unsettled, but they kept quiet. Dodonna gestured to the table. "Shall we have a seat and talk?"
She went to Kreia. She felt that it was best to get the 'I told you so' over with.
She stiffened when she entered the bunk and Kreia pulled her into her arms instead. "He was always going to harm you, child."
Meetra's hands fisted in the old woman's robes. "Don't say that," she muttered. At this point she was as tired of her own demands as anyone, but she couldn't help it. "Please don't say that. I wanted it to work. I wanted to be better."
Kreia stroked her hair. "You were too good for him at the start. He is a fool and a murderer and a perverted liar. You are the light in this dark galaxy."
Meetra felt bizarrely like Atton was suddenly the one being honest with her and Kreia was the one who was lying. The feeling expanded and complicated when her master kissed the crown of her head. She could feel as sure as her own heartbeat that the affection was not a lie. It still felt hollow.
She pulled back and met Kreia's unseeing eyes. "Just tell me I messed up. That I should've listened to you. Anything."
Kreia's hand cupped her cheek. "You've been rebuked enough. Let it strengthen you and not weaken."
Meetra wanted to scream. No one on this ship was the least bit helpful. The one person who would tell her she was wrong was now unreachable. She shook Kreia, just a little. "I was wrong," she choked. "I was wrong. Always wrong."
Heya, happy STS! What's your planning process like? Do you have a specific tried-and-true method you use each time, or is it story-dependent? Do your stories have a specific arc/act structure?
Hi! My planning process definitely depends on what I'm working on and is usually kind of erratic. I usually start a story with a broad idea or a specific scene or two and spin out from there. Sometimes I just freewrite, or pick away at a story until a structure starts to form or I get bored (usually with flash/short stories). Usually with short stories I'll come up with several beats I want to hit and scenes I want to include and freewrite between them.
I have one short story right now that I'm fully handwriting, in order, so if I have an idea or scene that's out of order I write it on a separate post it or notepad.
As far as structure, my stories usually have a vague structure but nothing very specific. I just have a general idea of how it goes, maybe an ending, and some scenes in between with a general idea where they go. I've got plots and subplots I want to progress. Anything other than that only comes out in outlining, which is rare, or drafting.
