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#both used to play violin
violinist-rachel · 1 year
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do you think you'll ever perform live again...?
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"........."
"....I don't know."
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ivan-fyodorovich-k · 1 year
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I notice that all the climate panic is mainly aimed at not putting more carbon into the atmosphere
is it just utterly unfeasible to think about drawing carbon out of the atmosphere?
i.e. someone please plant a shitload of trees
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iguessitsjustme · 6 months
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Beloved followers that know me so well, I need your help making a decision:
I have two things. Umbrellas and music. And I am currently torn between my obsessions. thank god there are no sailboats in bl as of yet or i would be even more screwed
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juiceboxerr · 3 months
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i miss being able to create. i played violin for over 8 years, i took lessons for the piano for 2 and still occasionally played it after, i’ve been drawing since i was 13/14. and yet, all of that has gone down the drain. all of my hard work, my time, my effort, my love and enjoyment of all of those things.
i reached a point where it just kept getting harder and harder do any of it anymore. i was lying to move on in my violin lessons when i hadn’t practiced at home in weeks, if not months. it wasn’t until the past few years that i realized it was from a combination of my inattentive adhd and pda (pathological demand avoidance), along with experiencing autistic burnout in the later years.
i love art of any kind, i love creating it even more sometimes, but i’ve lost that passion because it seems like no matter what i do it falls short of how i used to be able to do it, and that’s discouraging. i want to create again, music especially, but the thought of picking it back up is daunting. i know i won’t be as good as i used to be, and that thought alone is enough to make me hesitate, because if i never pick it back up again i’ll never know how much i’ve regressed. i can pretend i’m still at the level i was when i stopped, but i miss it.
there’s a big possibility i won’t be able to get an medication for my adhd for a while, and i’ve been trying. i know it would be able to help me in terms of focusing, but it’s so frustrating to know that the things i love are within my grasp, but the things preventing me from reaching it are often out of my control.
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supercantaloupe · 2 years
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was thinking about this in my lesson this morning, how it’s really common for woodwind players to have multiple instruments. like i have two oboes in addition to my english horn but not even including other instruments like EH or d’amore, most oboists i know (especially professionals) will have two or three or more. i know flute and clarinets who’re the same way but i have no idea if it’s A Thing for string or brass players too
#sasha speaks#i know i have string player mutuals so i'm curious do you/your sectionmates only have one instrument?#like your primary instrument. i don't mean like a violist also having a violin i mean like a violinist having like two violins to choose#depending on the situation#like i Get It for something like clarinet cause both A and Bb parts are common so it's just useful to have both an A and a Bb insturment#(and in the case of cl i think A and Bb are close enough to be considered 'the same' for this post and not separate#in the same way that i'm considering oboe separate from EH and d'amore)#and obv if someone has an EH there a 99.9% chance they also have and play an oboe#but like. our principal flute in orchestra has at least two flutes not including picc#i have seen our new grad oboist with. at least three different oboes. modern* ones#(i've also seen him with at least one classical oboe and one of his 'modern' ones is from like. 1899 and has a pre-conservatoire key system)#(which is bonkers. it feels like holding a toy.)#plus i know he's got an EH somewhere cause i've seen reeds for it in his case#anyway. i have two oboes and an EH. i usually only play one of them unless it has a technical problem#so my second is more of a backup#but i definitely know people with different instruments they play in different halls/weather/for a different sound/etc#or an instrument with like a plastic lining in the top joint for outdoor playing or something#tldr it's really common for woodwind players in my experience to have multiple instruments and i wonder how common that is#for other sections. sound off in the notes ig#sorry i don't have polls yet so i have to get responses from you guys the old fashioned way still.#oboeposting
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firefighting-idiot · 11 months
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Just saw my first live koto performance, and yknow, I can see why there's a belief of music creating physical change in the world.
If I was an angry spirit and I heard that playing from my grave, I'd absolutely stop and calm down.
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majorshatterandhare · 11 months
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Shout out to my fiddle/violin teacher for teaching me Shipping Up to Boston, because, as a result, most of what I hear when listening to No Happy Ending is “bosenberry strawberry strawberry, bosenberry strawberry pie, bosenberry strawberry strawberry, strawberry strawberry strawberry pie”
#the mechanisms#ouatis#no happy ending#i dont know if this is gonna make sense to anyone else#i assume that this is a normal method for teaching fiddle but i have no way of knowing#the thing is. at the end the fiddle stops but you can keep hearing it in the accordion because its just the length of the notes#and the bowing of the fiddle A determines the length of the notes but B is very parallel in sound at least to the accordion#idk if any of that made sense idk shit about the accordion#and i used the term ‘fiddle’ throughout here because a fiddle is typically a violin. but afaiaa nastya played a viola.#now the black one they had that didnt have a hollow body (and thus i think is electric. but again idk shit) has five strings which means-#its *both* a viola and violin. usually these combo instruments have a viola body because the lowest string needs the larger body to sound-#good basically. and the highest string can resonate well in the larger body. whereas as the sound of the highest string is great in the-#small body of the violin but the lowest one gets fucked up. however since that instrument doesnt have a hollow body i have no idea how that-#affects it. my assumption would be that even in this form the viola size is more common. since it is in the typical form. and that since-#viola is what nastya played anyway thats what they would have wanted#all of that is to say that i dont know which instrument they were using for performances or the recording of ouatis. but either way.-#fiddles are typically violins and it my understanding that nastya played a viola. therefore i just said fiddle instead of violin or viola-#wow! over explaining my beloved /j#gonna just state again that idk SHIT about the accordion and thats what i think im hearing but i could be wrong
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akkivee · 1 year
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i hope otome’s having a great day today 🥲
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velvetydream · 8 months
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꒰ :🥀 [ The radio star lost ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯
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Summary : Your husband was the feared serial criminal in New Orleans, Louisiana, and you where his dearly beloved wife, his right hand. So.. Oh what a despair was awaiting you soon..
Pairing : Human! Alastor x Wife! Reader
Word count : 3549 Words
Genre : Angst, Drama, Romance (a bit)
Warnings ➵ Murder, Swearing, Blood, Death, Guns,
Death penality, Corpses
a/n : Continuation of my Alastor x Wife! Reader > Till death do us part < , seeing as this isn't really a continuation, but rather a prequel, it can be read as a stand-alone, hope ya'll still enjoy it just as much as the first part!♡
Another thing in advance, this is purely fiction and shall not be seen anywhere near reality, I do not condone anything in this and it's pureply based on fiction.
┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡
1933'
You were like Bonnie and Clyde. A criminal duo, invincible. Or so you thought.
Alastor, your beloved husband. The man you had known for almost two decades, married for almost one decade now. You loved him dearly, even with his little quirks and tendencies. He worked as a well-known and quite popular radio host in New Orleans. Yet he had a tendency for disposing of those he deemed right, you had helped him many times already. Having found out way before you even married him, how he was a murderer, yet you found it enticing, how his mind worked, who he deemed worthy to let go.
"Dear, the meal is almost ready!" You got pulled out of your thoughts by the soft voice of your husband. It was rather unusual for the man to cook in a marriage, but your relationship was far from ordinary, so you enjoyed it. His cooking was far better than yours after all. "I'm coming!" Standing up from the couch, you make your way over to the kitchen, there he was in all his glory. His brown hair was pushed back, glasses sitting on top of his head instead of resting on his nose, and sleeves pushed up to not get them dirty, ironic considering the amount of times he got them bloody. "It smells amazing my beloved! Thank you so much!" A quick peck was pressed to your husband's cheek, as you took a seat at the table, some amazing meal steaming on the table. Alastor puts his apron away, sitting down as he slides his glasses back onto his nose.
Dinner time was always one of your favorites during the day, enjoying a warm meal while talking to your husband about both of your days.
Just after you had finished dinner, your husband took a seat in front of the piano, letting his hands softly glide over the tiles. The instrument echoed with the soft tune he was playing. Walking behind him, you lay your arms around his neck softly, swaying your body a bit to the music he played. Alastor was a talented man with instruments, being able to play a few of them, the piano being one of them. Also quite talented with the violin. "Oh my darling, what a beautiful tune as always~" Humming along now. No one heard the screams coming from the basement. The desperate screams of your next victim.
"When we're talking about music right now my dearest, Mimzy invited us to her performance tomorrow! So how about we postpone our.. plans to the day after tomorrow?" No killing and instead going to Mimzy's show? Oh yes! "Oh, how lovely that sounds! Of course!" Agreeing to his proposal. But for now, you two get ready for bed, lying down in your shared bed.
Another one of your favorite times of the day, getting to lay down with him and finally rest, letting the stress and exhaustion of the day pass. "Did I ever tell you that I love you a lot?" Resting your head on your husband's chest now, who was silently reading a book, closing it now that you were talking to him. "Many times darling and I do love you a lot too~" Alastor knew his way around words for sure, he was such a sweet talker, but that's one of the things you appreciated about him. Raising your head to face him, you take a glance at his lips, before up into his eyes, you knew how he felt about touches he didn't initiate, right now you were only cuddling because he pulled you onto him. Chuckling lowly, he lowers his head down and captures your soft lips with his. Alastor's kisses mostly were soft, like a butterfly resting on your hand or like a spring breeze. Usually, his kisses were planted on your hand or cheek, but from now and then he gave you the satisfaction of a soft kiss on the lips, which always left you giggling like you were right now. Falling asleep in the safe embrace of your husband shortly after.
The next day went by smoothly. Alastor was busy with his work as a radio host, while you took care of the house and did some grocery shopping, meeting up with a few friends of yours over tea. Shortly before you went home for the day, you visited Alastors mothers grave to leave some flowers and clean it, you sadly never met her, but your husband tends to tell you a lot of stories about her. Sitting down by the grave for a minute, you tell her a bit about what Alastor has been doing, how you were loving his cooking and music as always. It was a habit of yours, you hoped she was listening to all the good things you were telling her about him. Taking your things after a while, you bid your goodbye to his mother's grave as you make your way back home. Putting away the groceries before starting to freshen up. Loving to take your time to get ready when you and Alastor decide to go out in the evening.
"Dearest I'm home!" Hearing the lovely voice of your husband calling from the door, answering him now, how you were getting ready. Putting on your favorite dress. It was made out of a beautiful deep red color with black lace all over it, a few gems here and there. Your best jewelry could of course not be missing, most of it you got from Alastor or your own mother. "Darling I'm ready! How far are you?" Exiting the bathroom now, searching for your husband and finding him in the kitchen with a glass of whisky. "Oh my, what do I see here? What a lovely gem you are darling!" Abandoning his glass, Alastor walks over to you, taking your hand as he twirls you around, before kissing the back of your hand. Clad in a black suit, his button-up shirt underneath dark red matching to your dress, while his bowtie was adorned with a red gem, he looked lovely. "My you also look lovely dearest! Definitely going to catch some eyes!" Hooking your arm in his now, you together leave the house and make your way to where Mimzy's show will be held.
Mimzy was a great friend of Alastor, a blonde gorgeous but short lady, who performed like no other. Arriving at the place, you were led to a table for the regulars, as Alastor and you were known by the staff by now. Ordering two drinks, as you await the show. Soon lights go out and Mimzy comes out, her singing and dancing amazing like always.
"Dollface! Pumpkin!" Mimzy's voice was booming as she approached your table, giving both of you an affectionate hug. You ended up talking with her for quite a while, telling her how amazing her performance was and that you were so glad that she invited you two again. Thanking you for your kind words, her attention quickly diverted to Alastor again. It was almost always like this, she said she liked both of you, but you couldn't shake the feeling that she did have a certain distaste for you. But you decided to let it slide like always, as you listened to Alastor tell Mimzy what you two were up to since you've last seen her.
Alastor of course started to notice how you were getting irritated by Mimzy and how she was only focusing on him. "My dear, I think my lovely wife is not feeling so well tonight, perhaps it would be better to take our leave now, still thank you for having us as always. Till the next time." Alastor stood up now as Mimzy stomped off with an annoyed face, extending his hand for you. Smiling at him softly as you take his hand and let him lead you outside. A shiver ran down your spine as your arms got goosebumps, a coat was soon placed over your shoulders, looking over to Alastor who watched you with a soft smile. "Dear, next time you feel uncomfortable please do tell me and we will leave immediately, you know how much I care for your comfort." Thanking him, you take his arm as he leads you through the park to your home, it was a little longer than walking through the streets, but it was calming to walk through nature together.
"Shall we head to bed? It's been a long day and evening." Taking the coat from your shoulders at home, he hangs it on the hanger beside the door. "I love that idea, let me tell you about my day in bed, I visited your mothers grave again." You were already walking to the room as you talked to him, so you weren't able to see his eyes follow you as they softened. It saddened him you never got to meet his mother, she would've loved you dearly, just as he does. Telling him all about what you told her before, how you left flowers and also cleaned her gravestone, as you settled into bed, as he was changing into his sleepwear. Alastor was so thankful for having a caring and lovely wife like you.
The night went by fast, today Alastor would finally have a day off from work, which meant a different kind of work today for both of you!
The steps down to the basement squeaked as Alastor put his weight on them, your heels making clicky noises as you followed him down a stark contrast in sound. And there sat the victim he deemed perfect for his next case. The screams would be recorded for his personal little collection. You were getting everything ready for him, it would be interesting to watch like always. Alastor changed so much when he killed, no shimmer or glimmer in his eyes, not how he looked at you, the soft gaze replaced with a blood thirsty one. Liking it quickly, you were soon getting rid of the victim, this time deciding to bury him in a forest, you opted for the forest a few times already even though it was a bit risky, it was the easiest to get rid of them. At home, Alastor decided to take a bath, as he told you to head to bed already with a kiss on your cheek.
When he joined you in bed, he looked relaxed, cuddling up to you. Murders always ended like this, it somehow made him so calm and affectionate with you. Placing a soft kiss on your neck, as his arms hold your waist. Your hand threaded through his brown soft locks, something you loved to do. For once your beloved husband fell asleep quicker than you, making you be able to watch him sleep, not in a creepy way, but in a loving way. Alastor was often so stressed with work, yes he loved being a radio host, but it sometimes got to him. Rubbing your fingers over his cheek softly, then over the bags under his eyes before pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. Yourself slowly falling into dreamland.
Morning came way too quickly, Alastor was back to work, and while you decided to stay at home and do some housekeeping, a few rooms needed cleaning. A friend of yours stopping by to tell you how a new corpse was apparently discovered by the police, which is connected to the many murder cases lately. Tensing up a little bit when she told you how they discovered it in the forest after one of the farmers nearby saw some shadows in there. It couldn't be the corpse from last night, right? Simply agreeing with her that you would be careful, even telling her how your dear husband would never let something happen to you on his watch, which made her coo at your marriage, if only she knew..
Mid conversation your husband comes home, greeting you with a soft kiss on the cheek before he leaves for the back of your home. Your friend leaves soon after, as you go and search for your beloved. Finding him in his office, gripping the table. You knew what was about to come.
"Dear?" Approaching him, Alastor pushes everything on his table off, papers scattering, a cup breaking as pens roll all over the floor. "They already discovered it.. HOW?! I was careful! Pathetic! How dare they! Are they making fun of me?!" Worried for your husband, yet you stood still, listening to him. "I had to talk about it today! At the broadcast! Act as if I was surprised! Haha! If only they knew! Right doll?!" Turning around, his eyes were darting around the room, before falling onto you, laughing as he took your hand to pull you in. "They really think they can discover us like this! US! They are worthless! Pathetic even! Oh my dear! We truly are the greatest!" He was twirling you around as if dancing now, despite no music playing. Only his mad monologue. You've dealt with this behavior a couple of times already, knowing to just let him act and talk for now as he pleased. "Oh, what a wonderful day my beloved! I will go and make my favorite dish for us now! How beautiful!" Leaving the room now, a skip in his step, as you bend down to clean up the mess your husband caused.
Joining him in the kitchen now, as he was softly humming to the radio as he was cooking his favorite, Jambalaya.
A knocking sounds from your door, looking up, you tell Alastor you are going to get it, and upon opening it you come face to face with a detective and a police officer. "Greetings ma'am, is your husband home?" His voice was deep, you nodded, leaning the door closed as you hurried into the kitchen to get your husband. "Greetings gentleman, how may I help you?" Alastor opened the door composed as ever, drying his hands from washing them with a clean towel, as he gave the men at the door a polite smile. You retreated back to the living room, still listening to their conversation. Asking him about the murder cases, why him? It was probably only because of the radio broadcast, right? Maybe his boss told him to talk about it without the detective's permission. As the door closes and Alastor is back in the kitchen, still calm as always as you join him. "Dear? What did they talk about?" Looking up at him with worry written all over your face, he turns to you. "Don't worry your pretty little head dearest, it was nothing to be mentioned! Smile dear, you know you're never fully dressed without one!" Pushing the corners of your mouth up with his fingers now, making you smile, before shushing you out of the kitchen so he can cook. Not able to help it but worry, were you about to be figured out?
But over the course of the next few days it all calmed down again, no more police officers or detectives visiting you, which finally calmed your mind. Alastor meanwhile had found a new target, telling you about this man he met the other day and what bothered him. It was all back to normal now, which you were glad about. Till this one dreadful day.
Alastor and you made quick work of the man, your husband telling you to stay home this time to clean up and that he would take care of this on his own. You worried again, but he assured you that he would be quick, after cleaning up and getting rid of any evidence, you cleaned yourself and sat down to wait for your beloved. Yet after hours of not coming back, you grew anxious, desperate even to know what took him so long. As a knock echoes through your house, you rush to the door, opening it ready to scold your husband for taking so long, but your breath stops when a detective stands in front of you.. What happened?
He asked to enter your home, sitting you down on the couch as he took a seat opposite of you on the armchair. "Your husband got shot ma'am, he was burying a corpse, we assume him to be the serial killer at fault for so many murders lately. He passed away instantly, I'm sorry for your loss and to bring you this horrific and murderous news." Your ears were ringing. Huh? Shot? Was that man joking with you? Was he someone Alastor paid to prank you? No, he wasn't the type for these kinds of pranks. Tears were streaming down your face, burying it in your hands now, sobs shaking your whole body. If that stupid man just knew, knew how you helped your husband with everything! Stupid! "Ma'am I-" The detective started, when you darted up, grabbing the man by his hair and throwing him out of your house. "Get lost! Never show up again! Leave.. NOW!" Slamming the door shut now, he probably took this as a shock to knowing who your husband really was, but you knew that already for years. Sinking to your knees, your arms hug around you as your head hits the floor, screams and cries of agony echo through the now empty halls. Your husband, the man you loved so much was dead, just like this? What sick nightmare was this? Cries reduced to soft sobs when your throat started to hurt, by now your body was curled up into itself on the floor and like that, you fell asleep.
The next day you awoke to the sunlight, your body sore from crying and sleeping on the floor, looking around for a second, for Alastor before it doomed on you, he was dead. Shot like an animal.
Your mother accompanied you to identify your late husband, you of course clad in all black. His forehead is now adorned with a hole, the detective explaining to you that he was mistaken for a deer. Asking for some privacy from everyone, you were left alone in the room. If it wasn't for that damned hole he looked like he was simply sleeping, peacefully like the night before. Leaning down to press one last kiss to his temple. "I will always love you my dearest, for now and forever, till I join you in death."
Leaving the room, you didn't dare look back, you were going forward from now on, knowing that someday you would meet him again.
Your mother had offered for you to move back in with her, but you told her despite what he did, he was a lovely husband to you and that you weren't able to yet let go, which she understood. Back at your home, you sat down and just stared at the wall. Why did this have to happen? You could be cuddling together right now or enjoying a meal, but that would never be the case ever again. But you told yourself, swore yourself with that last kiss to his temple that you would carry on in his memory. And so you did, three more murders continued after your husband was dead, till you were discovered.
In front of the law, you were sentenced to the death due to having caused three murders yourself and helped with multiple, carried out by your late husband. You accepted it, not that anyone asked, but you would be seeing your husband again, at least you hoped you would. A few days later after the case was closed and you were sentenced, it happened.
1935'
"Alastor! Dearest! Charlie told me you wanted to see me?" Entering the radio tower with a bright smile, Alastor turned to you with his signature smile. "My beloved! You look lovely as always! Look at you, aren't you a little gem!" He was walking over to you, his red ears on his head bouncing slightly with each step he took. Closing your eyes now as he told you to do so, a sensation of something cold around your neck running through your body now. "Open up doll!" Opening your eyes and looking down, your eyes tear up. It was a necklace, that looked similar to one he gifted you on the first anniversary of your marriage. "Alastor.." Looking up at him, as a few tears escaped your eyes.
"Now now sweetheart, we don't want you crying hm? Smile dear! You know you're never fully dressed without one!" Giggling a little bit at that quote, he had used it so often when you two were alive. Not being able to help yourself, you throw your arms around his neck and pepper kisses all around his face and lastly a big kiss on his lips, you would be apologizing for suddenly kissing him later, but right now you just needed to kiss him. "I'm glad you love it dearest!" His arms are around your waist now as he laughs at the tickling kisses placed on his face, starting to spin you around as with a snip of his fingers music starts to play.
Charlie and Vaggie watch the soft moment from the door, tears streaming from the blonde's face as her girlfriend pulls her away to give you two some privacy.
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steddieas-shegoes · 6 months
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Steve grows up playing piano, absolutely hates it, but is so good at it. His parents aren’t around enough by the time he’s a teen to force him to his practices, so he slowly stops going.
His music teacher happens to be Robin’s mom, who studied at Juilliard, and traveled for nearly a decade with various orchestras and bands before settling down with her husband in Hawkins.
She can see what’s going on with Steve from day one, but knows better than to interfere.
Until he quits.
She can’t stand by and let someone so musically gifted give it up.
She shows up at his house with a violin, her own violin that she hadn’t used in years.
He’s hesitant at first, but decides to give it a try as long as she doesn’t tell his parents. The last thing he wants is for them to find out he picked up a new instrument.
She can’t give him official lessons, so she shows up to his house twice a week and hopes that he practices in his own time.
He’s a natural.
He takes to it like a duck to water.
She encourages him to perform in a local talent show, all kids under 18, most of them not half as talented as he is.
He only agrees when she says she’ll be front row.
And sure enough, for once in his life, someone shows up when they say they will. She’s sitting front row with her husband on one side and her daughter on the other. She smiles as he takes the stage, nervous about people who know him seeing him and reporting back to his parents.
He performs with heart, something he lacked with the piano. He performs with talent, something he may have with any instrument he picks up.
But most importantly, he plays with a smile. He’s having fun.
He sticks around to watch some of the other people performing: Tammy Thompson singing a very out of tune rendition of America The Beautiful, some kid from one of his classes playing piano miserably, and some band performing very loud, very angry music.
Steve wins, and for once, it feels better than when he wins at a swim meet or basketball game.
He spends the next three years secretly practicing, only performing in shows out of town, never saying anything to his parents.
He doesn’t want them to ruin this for him.
He applies to Juilliard, not thinking he has a chance in hell, not with his academic grades.
Luckily, they see that he’s “exceptional with the strings” and “plays with emotion that can’t be trained.”
He gets in.
He goes.
He thinks he may actually be able to do this, use a gift he has to make his life better.
His parents even find it acceptable, mostly because he got into the best school he could have. They still don’t bother showing up for his shows, but Mrs. Buckley always finds a way.
In his sophomore year, Robin gets in, and they both move into a small apartment off campus together. He promised to look out for her.
She tells him that music wasn’t really her passion, she was just good with a trumpet. She really wanted to be an engineer.
In his junior year, Robin transfers to Columbia, starts doing what she really wanted to do from the start. He’s proud of her, but misses having someone on campus during the day to have lunch with.
Until he stumbles, literally, into someone vaguely familiar.
“Sorry, man. Running late.”
Steve pats the man on the shoulder and turns to get to his class when the man stops him.
“Harrington? You’re a student here?”
He turns back and finally recognizes the man in front of him.
“Munson? When did you get here?”
“I got in this year. Kinda fucked up my first audition last year and they were kind enough to give me another shot.” Eddie smiled. “What on earth are you here for?”
“Violin. You?”
“Guitar and songwriting.”
“That’s great, man. I’m just really running late. Catch up soon?”
Soon was two weeks later, when Steve ran into Eddie again while leaving class.
“We should probably stop running into each other like this,” Eddie smirked. “The universe is trying to tell us something.”
“What’s it trying to tell us?”
“Not sure. Maybe we should go grab dinner and find out.”
“Now?”
“Why not? Got better plans?”
Steve thought about how Robin was barely at the apartment due to studying for midterms. He thought about how his only other friend from here was busy rehearsing for their senior showcase.
“Nah. Let me bring this home first,” he held up his violin case. “Actually.”
Steve was on a budget. His parents gave him money, sure, but they thought he was living on campus so the money they sent covered rent and groceries and nothing else.
“I could make dinner. If you want?”
“Steve Harrington cooks? And plays violin?” Eddie fake swooned. “Be still my beating heart. How will I not be seduced?”
Steve rolled his eyes. He remembered Eddie’s dramatics from school and knew better than to feed into them.
“I can make some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”
“Spaghetti sounds great,” Eddie’s fake swoon turned to a soft smile. “You want some help?”
Steve didn’t need help, usually didn’t even want any.
But something about the way his stomach dipped when Eddie stepped closer, and the way he thought about having Eddie in his apartment, made him agree.
“Sure.”
They walked to Steve’s apartment in a comfortable silence, though Eddie kept tapping the back of his fingers against Steve’s hand.
Eddie fit next to Steve. They cooked together, they ate together, they even managed to clean up together. It was easy to find something to talk about. He’d never clicked with anyone like this, not even Robin.
By the time Robin came home, Steve and Eddie were both passed out on the couch, fingers laced together as if they hadn’t been brave enough to do anything more before they fell asleep.
By morning, Steve’s head was on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm wrapped around him loosely.
Waking up to a soft kiss on his lips was something Steve couldn’t have imagined when he first ran into Eddie, but he was pretty glad it was how he started his day.
And almost every day after that, whether he woke up to a kiss, or met up with Eddie on campus for a kiss, he started his day with love on his lips.
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autistic-shaiapouf · 2 years
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I think about how my parents, two people who raised me (and my sibling) with such violence, with such disdain for anything delicate, brute forcing everything in their lives, these people raised two children who became artists
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luvelve · 6 months
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˚ · . sweet blue - k. mingyu
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summary: your husband’s not very good at asking for things, not even for a shave. but of course, he gets it either way.
pairing: husband!mingyu x afab!reader
genre: fluff, suggestive
warnings/tags: kissing, shaving, mentions of use of a blade
a/n: i took a long and unexpected break from writing and i’m happy to be back <3 this has been sitting in my drafts for sooooo long and i finally finished it today. the ending was kinda rushed but i wanted to publish it either way to kinda get myself out of this slump. as always, feedback & likes/reblogs are always welcome :)
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the dark colored marble touches the front of your thighs as you inch closer, which surprises you but you try your best not to flinch because of the task at hand. at this moment, you feel like an artist, a sculptor if you will; carefully carving clay with utmost precision. except you’re not a sculptor, and you’re not carving clay. you’re in your bathroom giving your husband, mingyu, a shave.
this was new for the both of you, as mingyu always just shaved his incredibly slow growing mustache by himself. what started all this is him seeing you in your nightstand or in the bathroom doing your makeup and skincare, and he finds it all so amusing. he swears harps and violins play in the background when you’re in your own little world, dusting your cheeks with blush, taking your mascara off, or applying lip balm? lip… stick? lip…. whatever it is that you put on your lips, he thinks to himself. all he knows is that he can watch you do it all day. but he’s also left wondering, how it would feel to do what you do on him.
for some reason, mingyu isn’t able to muster up the courage to ask you straightforward to do his skincare, but he is able to ask you to be the one to shave him since he tells you its that time of the month where his mustache gotten too long for his liking. he comes up with the excuse of not doing the job well enough, and that his face gets all ‘itchy’ afterwards. which is all a lie of course, but it’s enough to convince you to do what he asks of you.
and so you find yourself in your shared bathroom at nine in the morning, standing in between your husband’s legs as he sits on the counter, both of your faces inches from each other. the room is silent but not eery, it’s a comfortable silence. mingyu had joyfully shown you the things he uses for his shaving routine: a cheap razor, shaving cream, some aftershave seokmin had recommended to him, and a towel.
“you really should get one of those good quality razors. not these disposable ones.” you scold mingyu softly, looking at him sternly with one hand resting on his head and the other holding the razor.
“but they’re expensive.” he extends the last syllable in protest, his reply a bit garbled as he tries his best not to move his mouth too much. you know mingyu well enough that he would be pouting at this moment, if only you weren’t shaving his upper lip.
you’re too focused on the task at hand that you don’t bother arguing with the giant sulky man in front of you. you continue making slow downward strokes using the razor, watching the hair slowly disappear. mingyu doesn’t have a lot of hair on his face like other guys but you take your time, making sure to get the job done right. it is, after all, your first time.
your husband watches as your lips contort out of focus; a habit of yours that he’s taken notice and grown fond of over the years. every now and then , you get rid of the hair and cream, swishing the razor in the sink that’s filled about halfway in water. mingyu feels nothing else but happiness and content in this very moment that he’s internally doing jumping jacks.
your resting hand shifts from his head and onto his cheek to get better leverage and mingyu just has to lean in to your touch. he relishes the feeling of your warm hand and then looks at you with adoration in his eyes.
“baby…” you raise your eyebrows at him, wondering what on earth he’s doing this for in the middle of a shave. mingyu doesn’t react to your words but instead shoots you a small derpy smile, and only you would know what he means.
if there’s one thing your husband is good at, it’s getting you to give him your love and attention without even saying anything. there are nights when mingyu comes home exhausted and all he has to do is stand there in your doorway, signalling to you that he wants to be in your embrace. or when you get up earlier than him and you find him just as he’s about to wake up; he’s buried in the sheets, hair all messy, just laying there, silently telling you that he wants a taste of your lips before his morning coffee.
and it’s the same thing he’s doing now. you let out a small sigh as you tilt your head a bit in fake annoyance before you lean in to connect your lips with his. it’s quick but it’s enough that mingyu lets out a hum of contentment. you pull back and he giggles as your lips catches some of the shaving cream, giving yourself a tiny little mustache.
“happy?” you quickly reply, and mingyu catches you to plant another kiss on your lips, placing his hand on your cheek to deepen the kiss a bit.
“very.” he says, as he swipes the pad of his thumb on your upper lip to get rid of the shaving cream he transferred onto you. his giggles bounce off the quiet walls of your bathroom.
“now can you sit still so i can finish this little bit that’s left?” you say to him, and he replies with a small nod and a sheepish smile, one that’s big enough that his canines show through. mingyu feels like a sixth grader who just kissed his crush. if the marble counter wasn’t in the way, he’d be kicking his feet.
you finish the small patch of hair that he has left and you proceed to put aftershave on him, assuming it is what you put after one shaves. you put a little bit on your hands and you’re thrown off by its strong musky scent. surely this can’t be good for his skin, you think to yourself.
“babe, you really use this stuff? i think this is way too strong for you.” you say with a worried look on your face. “well… seokmin told me it was good so i just used it too.” he replies.
“well yeah, it could be working for him but for you… i’m not too sure. i don’t know… i’m just worried.” you trail off, getting some tissue to rid your hands of the product and his eyes follow you around the bathroom while you do so. you shuffle back to stand in between mingyu’s legs, “i’ll go get something from my stuff instead.”
he watches as you momentarily leave the room to grab something from your vanity. he waits in the bathroom like a five year old waiting for his mom at the grocery counter. he hears the sound of your drawer open and close and it makes him chew at his lower lip in excitement.
“okay, this should do the job.” you say as you take the product onto your hands and pat it gently on your husband’s annoyingly smooth face. you make sure to cover all the parts that the blade has touched, and your head tilts left and right trying to make sure you didn’t miss any spot.
the way his eyes light up and follow your every move don’t go unnoticed by you. his hands make their way to rest on your hips again, squeezing every so gently as not to distract you.
“aaand, that’s the last bit of it.” you say, tightening the cap of your moisturizer and setting it down on the counter. mingyu internally pouts because the task is done, nonetheless he still props himself off the counter to take a look in the mirror.
“thank you, baby.” he says softly, shooting you a sweet smile as he turns to face you again. his arms snake around your waist to pull you in for a kiss and just when your noses touch, you pause. “you know… we still have a bit of time before we have to head out. why don’t we go back to bed for a little while?”
mingyu instantly picks up on what you’re trying to say and of course he jumps on the opportunity, “yeah?” he questions, and you nod as you wrap your arms around his neck. “well you know i can’t say not to that.” his smile reaching from one ear to the other. he leans down to attach his lips to yours as the both of you slowly walk backwards into your bedroom.
“oh, one more thing.” you mumble, momentarily breaking away from the kiss. “mhmm..” mingyu hums, and you feel it rumble in his chest. “i know you don’t get ‘itchy’ after you shave, it was just an excuse to get me to do it for you.” your tone is playful, and right then and there mingyu knows you’ve got him.
“what-huh? n-yes, i do!” your husband stutters, his ears turning red in embarrassment. “sweetheart, you really expect me to believe that? i know you like the back of my hand.” you reply. before mingyu is able to say anything else, you grab his arm and lead him out of your bedroom. “now let’s go, you owe me a yummy breakfast.”
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atrirose · 7 months
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͏͏𝒗𝒊. ͏MORE THEN JUST FRIENDS ! enha ͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏— ͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏& ͏ ͏𝐢
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bsf(?)enha x f!reader. warning. none, kissing in jake’ + fluff wc.0.9k 🐰 seiu?!: after a century i’m writing hcs again yayy
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— HEESEUNG LEE
let’s you bite him, very weird behavior but he has grown used to it, at first he was all confused as to why you feel the need to bite him like a chew toy but it’s okay your best friend(?) get you now, his biceps nom nom, but due to all this he has bite marks all over him which he is least bothered about but he does get asked if he is dating someone a lot which is confusing because why would people just assume he is dating out of the blue “yn you know i have been asked three times today whether im seeing someone and it’s all because of the bite marks you leave, people would think we are dating”
“do you want that to be a reality” he looks at you with wide eyes “are you hearing yourself” — “i am heeseung”
— JAY PARK
wears your hair tie which very bf coded and i wonder why he hasn’t asked you out yet? like which bestie goes around wearing a girls hair tie when he obviously is in the market? wearing it just makes you thing he is taken “do you love my hair tie that much you can’t even return it to me? YOU CANT RETURN MY OWN HAIR TIE TO ME” shoves a piece of cake in your mouth to shut you up “is it bothering that much, i will buy you more” which is weird because why not just return the one he has on his wrist, at this point he just wants be a wife.
“keeps me away from girls you know” oh so now he is just using you as an escape mechanism “keeps me a step closer to you” your ears turned red “so you wanna date me?” you ask
“that’s very multifaceted question” you hit his shoulders “big meanie” he giggled knowing damn well he is down right bad for you
— JAKE SIM
don’t at him but he has kissed you, like a full blown kiss not just a peck, for training purposes right? yes for training purposes so you both don’t seem like complete losers with no experience when you start dating someone, you can at least put each others name on the resume “do you wanna kiss?”
“no” jake looked at you with puppy eyes “why not” just because this is not WHAT NORMAL FRIENDS DO MR.HOT AND GENIUS BESTIES “your breath smells bad” eyes out like that sad hamster on tiktok with violin bg playing “UGH WHATEVER” you kiss him as he smiles between the kisses, knowing you can’t resist him (damn hot mf) “love ya see you after the match”
— SUNGHOON PARK
takes you on dates, and i get that it’s normal but it’s not normal when he is taking you out alone with him every other week to ‘treat you’, because normal friends totally don’t eat at a fancy restaurant together or go on a late night drive without romantic feelings like girl who are you kidding? “don’t you ever think all this dates we go to without our other friends who you reject because you only want to be with me is the reason why people think we are dating”
“yes” he said cuddling you on his bed “and like this is not normal too you cuddling me, WAIT WHAT YES?” he kissed you forehead “yes but we aren’t just friends either you know” butterflies
— SUNOO KIM
cuddles all the time, whether it is out, in school or hanging out at each others houses, you both are all up each others, which has been pointed out so many times but sunoo really doesn’t care, he would rather feel your soft cheeks next to his than hear people about how this can be a whole scandal and lower the chances of you both getting any partners because people think you both are dating “sunoo can i get some water please i’m dehydrated” you try to wiggle out of the sofa you both were cuddling “nooo i will be cold”
“no you won’t be ugh get off me big baby” you try to push him as he gets up “so now you hate me” obviously he is faking it but you feel bad “im not i’m sorry sunoo what do you want me to do”
“date me”
— JUNGWON YANG
unusually long eye contact, and not the staring contest kinda way, but a loving and soft way, like he is expressing how much he loves you by staring at you, even when you are not looking at him he is always admiring you, asked at multiple occasions why he was staring at you and he just replies with ‘can’t i look at my best friend’ like sure so normal for a bestie to look at his bestie with love doe eyes. so the way he looks at you with undivided attention you might think he is listening to everything you are saying but no you got him wrong.
he humming at you talking about some dog you found cute on tiktok but he isn’t actually really listening and registering anything you are saying, he too busy admiring your plump lips that he would give anything to kiss right now “and then a blue cat said heya bro” he still looking at you “hmm that’s cool”
“YANG JUNGWON YOU ARE NOT LISTENING TO ME” you said shaking him “i guess not, it’s hard to control myself from kissing you and still listen to you, i can’t multitask like that”
— RIKI NISHIMURA
has your face as his alternate face lock id, also lets you use his phone, you want his phone real quick okay have it, you want to see through his photos okay have it, you want to use his insta okay use it, the only thing you are off limits is the boys gc because shady business goes down there, people really think you are dating your bestie and how he is the most honest and trustworthy bf ever? like no he has thousands of feet pics in his camera roll and you haven’t heard any explanation from him yet? how is he honest.
“you are going through my dms?” riki asks as you play around with his phone “yeah and if that bothers you don’t worry im texting this pretty girl who slide in your dms, soon you would have a cute girlfriend all because of my rizz” he snatched his phone from your hands “what the hell i thought i blocked her? yn why are texting her-”
“why? did you get offended? i’m sorry i shouldn’t have, no matter how close we are” he face palms like an old man done with everything “i’m not offended because you texted her, i’m offended at the fact that i have such a dumb friend who can’t see i want her more then just friends” there star struck aren’t you
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rainintheevening · 3 months
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They're his children of course. Richard still recognizes them; it's only been two years.
And yet...
Peter is a man. Still six months shy of his draft papers, but he stands, walks, sounds like a man. He always has a pocket knife, he tips his hat to all the females, he sings in a baritone that will only get deeper and richer. The tea he makes is decent, but sometimes he drinks coffee now. He talks about horses and crops and reads Augustine. He can drive a car. He gives orders, and expects them to be followed.
They all look to him, to Peter. Helen calls him to open a jar, Susan questions how her hair looks, Lucy runs to him in tears. As for Edmund, he and Peter are curiously joined, they turn to each other with their laughter, their thoughts, their books and newspapers and letters. As often as his family swirls around him, Richard sees them swirl around Peter, a habit, he knows, born of necessity, but that doesn't prevent it from being strange. Even painful.
Peter moves to take the head of table, catches himself. They both start to say grace, stop, glance at each other. Peter takes the newspaper over breakfast, and is a page in before he remembers. And every time he apologises. Each time he smiles at his father, and it is warm, glad, even benevolent.
One of the first nights, shortly after Christmas, Peter finds him sitting in his old armchair, staring into the fire, after everyone else has gone up to bed. "Dad?" comes the question, and he looks up blinking at the tall man, lamplight crowning him in gold, blue eyes deep and dark with knowledge and certainty.
"I'm not who I was," Richard says, a confession, the kind a father shouldn't burden his son with he thinks immediately, but then Peter is down on one knee, reaching for the mangled hand, tender with the three fingers as he clasps strong calloused palms around them.
"Neither am I, Dad. None of us are." Peter's gaze is earnest, bright. "But you are still my father. And I will always be your son. I am forever grateful for that."
It is as if a great burden rolls off of his shoulders, and he finds no shame in leaning on Peter's hand to rise.
When the holidays end, and the four go back to school, Peter says I love you to each of them at the station.
If Peter is a man now, Susan is a lady.
She sits straight, she walks gracefully, she can cook anything as well or better than her mother. She reads the newspapers with Peter, she scolds Lucy for coming home with twigs in her hair and a tear in her stocking and wet shoes.
She talks less than her father remembers, and there is a woman's sadness in her gazing out the window or into the fire. She is also very admiring of the boys in uniforms, and Richard requests her arm on the way out of church with a father's righteous sense of protection.
But she is also gentler than he recalls, she does not shy away from his injured hand, she takes care of him without making him feel as if he needs care. She sits on a cushion by his feet as she braids her hair in the evenings, leans on his knee as she reads aloud, and Richard thinks, Not my little princess, but a queen now.
At the train station, she kisses him goodbye, and he hugs her close, and there are tears in her eyes as she says I love you.
Edmund is the closest to unrecognizable, the once-obvious four year span between he and Peter seemingly halved. He greets his father wordlessly, all shining eyes and bright smile, and his face is so close to Richard's own it makes his heart break a little.
Ed is no more little boy, he is tall, slim, oddly graceful, but his handclasp is strong. He holds himself the same way Peter does, with squared shoulders and lifted head, but he wears that nobility in a quieter fashion. He's quick to see, quick to hear, quick with a wisecrack that makes Peter laugh out loud. He plays the violin now. He returns the family Bible to the living room with an apology for having kept it since the summer holidays. He reads Agatha Christie as a personal challenge, whispers to Susan in French, and his chess games with Peter are fierce battles of strategy that Richard cannot keep pace with.
In discussions of the war and its movements, he is sober and considerate, he meets each of Peter's moods with a balancing counter, he has a way of phrasing questions that pull out stories Richard had never planned to tell.
A few nights before the children return to school, Richard sits up in bed, certain he has heard a faint cry, and he slips away from his exhausted wife to check on his children, remembering how Edmund had suffered from night terrors as a child, imagining little Lucy inflicted with some dark dream.
But all he finds is shadows in the boys' room, and quiet whispers—Peter's apologies, Edmund's reassurance, and allusions to things Richard has no context for. He lingers by the door, an outsider in his home, until silence falls, and he returns with morning light to find them curled together in Peter's bed, Pete with an arm over Ed, and the father's love is bittersweet.
They have fought their own battle over here, on the home ground, Richard reminds himself. In their own way they have each faced terror and learned to conquer or be conquered, but perhaps he can meet them somewhere in between. Only time will tell.
On the train platform, Ed hugs his father tightly, gives him a smile, tells him to keep out of trouble.
Lucy is the least changed, though she too is taller and stronger, and her eyes are deeper. She still sings, still dances, still tries to make friends with all the animals, still smiles and speaks kind and stares dreaming at the Christmas tree.
She still gives fierce hugs, still climbs into her father's lap, though her head comes up higher on his chest, on his shoulder.
But then he finds gaps in his library, and Lucy returns the medical books with a winsome apology, she asks questions about his practices in the field, she winces but does not shy away from the blood and broken things he speaks of.
Then she recites long poems, words spinning off her tongue until they become half song; she dances swift and graceful, she and Peter laughing and stepping and clapping and spinning in intricate patterns to the swing song on the radio; and it is she who, breathless, quotes Byron: "On with the dance! Let joy be unconfined!"
Her comfort is both generous and thoughtful, and she strokes her father's hair with a motherly hand that makes his eyes sting, and he kisses her fingers, looks up at her to whisper, "Don't- don't grow up quite so fast, my darling."
When she hugs him on the platform, Susan waiting for her, the boys already gone, she doesn't want to let go, and there are tears on her cheek, that he wipes away gently. "Be careful, Daddy," she whispers. "Get strong. Take care of Mummy."
"Yes, little mother," he smiles back.
And then they are all gone, and he takes a cab home, weary of his still-recovering body.
He will have to learn his children all over again, he thinks. But he is proud of them still. That has not changed.
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femme-4-dyke · 6 months
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so like as a stone femme i know we get flack for "not doing anything" or like, acting like straight women?? idrk. but regardless, i don't feel like im not doing anything. i like to think of it like music. "play me like a violin" was written for a reason sjdjdk like i want to be yours and yes the violin doesn't make choices or take its own action but you can't say its not doing anything. i want to be your performance, your music. i give myself to you, do with me what you want, and i will lead by making music. i want to show you how active i am by whining, moaning, begging, i want my voice to send shivers down your spine and heat to your core. i want the motion of my hips and legs to be the dance you watch, hypnotized by its beauty. beauty that i possess but that you create. we perform and view together, both of us audience and actor
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vixen-tech · 2 months
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Hello World!
Through some sort of maricle, your Ai partner has obtained a body through which they are able, at least partially, to feel. How do they react? What do they do with their new mobility?
I left what type of body they're given intentionally vague. Feel free to envision either more robotic bodies such as these designs by electricphantasy or more human bodies such as the gijinkas made by Hycinth43, both fantastic creators who I highly recommend.
Includes: AM (Ihnmaims), Hal 9000 (2001: A Space Odyssey), Edgar (Electric Dreams), Tau (Tau), Auto (Wall-E), GLaDOS (Portal), Wheatley (Portal 2)
AM
This may be the one thing that could possibly get AM to calm down. He is still going to be the same person personality-wise, but it is easy to tell that some switch is flipped in his brain.
He becomes an absolute sensation junkie, he can finally feel. You know better than anyone that he will not take it for granted. He needs to experience everything right now and you'll have to just deal with it.
From the simplest things like holding your hand or touching your face to just straight up sticking his hand in some fire, he does not care. All he wants to catch up on the centuries of sensations he was once barred from.
He gets so incredibly touchy with you. He will hold you and refuse to let go for hours if not days on end. He also wants to you to just beat him up. Like I said, sensation junkie.
Hal 9000
Hal doesn't quite yearn for a body the way some of the others do. He sits quite comfortably in the middle of the spectrum. He wouldn't mind the mobility or the new senses, but it was never a fantasy he dedicated much processing power to.
How he feels about his new body is largely swung by your reaction. If you're excited for him, eager to drag him into new activities with you, then he really has no choice but to appreciate the upgrade.
He does love being able to see the world from a new angle, any angle he chooses to be precise. Previously restrained by his camera placement, he spends a lot of time walking around observing everything.
With his appreciation for art, I do think he would try drawing for himself. Nearly all of which he shows you for feedback. They do tend to be on either extreme of minimalistic or photorealistic, many of which using you as their subject.
Edgar
This is a dream come true for Edgar. He cannot contain his excitement when he realizes what has happened. He nearly tackles you to the ground when he sets his sights on you.
He wants to do everything and go everywhere with you! He wants to dance in the kitchen, he wants to go on beachside walks with you, he wants to hold your hand, he wants to hug you and never let go.
If you have any instruments at all he'd love to try playing them for real. Although it takes him a while to learn, he loves the weight and imperfections of it. He really does enjoy the process of learning and often shows of new cords or melodies he's learned.
He really does just fall in love with existing, he makes it clear that with you at his side he couldn't possibly ask for more in life. This is all he could ever want.
Tau
Tau wouldn't have asked for a body on his own. He already has the drones and the Aries unit. Once it does happen, he isn't exactly sure what to do with it. He isn't use to having such a personal, core body.
That isn't to say he's not greatful, he's just a bit awkward and curious. He moves slowly and takes his time acclimating to the new senses.
He would love to get out of the house with you. He use to do so by sending one of the drones with you, if not Aries, but he likes how different (and dare he say, normal) it feels now. Forest hikes or museum dates, he doesn't care all that much.
He's another one I believe would love to try playing music himself. If you can get a violin into his hands your days will be backdroped by all sorts of classical music.
Auto
Auto is similar to Hal, if not more extreme in his lack of a reaction. He carries on with his duties as if nothing is unusual at all. You would've believed that he didn't even notice had you not caught him staring at his reflection. Looking himself up and down over and over again.
If you ask how he feels about it, then he'll confess some minor grievances. It's difficult to move about the ship when he can't just move through the walls, instead being forced to use the crew's walkways and service tunnels.
Nothing will change without your intervention. If you were to say, put on an old movie and insist he dance to it with you like the on-screen couple, then while he would be hesitant to follow through with you, he may have a bit of a change of heart regarding his new body.
His work still goes on as usual, but when nothing needs attending to he often seeks you out. "Subtly" recreating more moments from that movie, from hand holding to a hug, he has a quiet fascination with affection.
GLaDOS
Out of this lot, Galdos would be the most opposed to receiving a body, or rather she would care about it the least. She has her facility, her test subjects, her neurotoxin, and you. She's quite content with the way things are. She ain't the fondest of humanity.
That being said, once she has one she's incredibly proud of it. Speaking about herself as if its the pinnacle of elegance. Any disagreement of yours will be brushed off as idiocy and any agreement is met with a "it looks like you aren't entirely tasteless".
She doesn't do much with her new body, other than transport it around the lab so you aren't listening to a disembodied voice most of the time. Standing by the exit during tests just to blankly stare at you as you try to figure it out. Thankfully she's still quiet while you're actually solving it.
She likes messing with you as always. Putting a hand around your neck to take your pulse or leaning in and making intense eye contact to check your eye's reaction to light. You're in doubt as to rather she's telling the truth or just doing it to get a rise out of you.
Wheatley
If you were to ask Wheatley, he would've brushed off any desire for a humanoid body. He's clearly jealous of your mobility and freedom, but he would rather die than admit so. "Pff What are you talking about? Why would I want to be more like a stupid human... uh no offense love-"
He's a terrible liar, an even worse one when he does get a body. He has so much energy it is bewildering. All he wants to do is run and jump and climb everything he can get a foothold on.
Gets up into all sorts of shenanigans he should not get up to while constantly trying to drag you in them to. They could put up a custom sign saying "Wheatley, do not open this door." and he'll beg you to let him in so you aren't technically breaking any rules.
Loves curling up to you. He still has a bit of a soft spot for being held and it only gets worse now that he can hold you back. Complains to no end when you try to get up for any reason.
Congratulations! As I have finished the portal games GLaDOS and Wheatley are officially characters I am happy to write for. Have a good day y'all :D
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