#but anyway that's why it won't work on mobile | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

possibilistfanfiction · 2 years ago

Note

conservationist au already!? you write so fast dang (what are your secrets) (also it's okay if you want to keep them secret) (mostly i am excite for frog)

here she is! frog au! lol [ao3]

to see us blossom (while the green spreads like wings)

only our feet have been here, that i'm aware of. it's wild and remote and beautiful as can be. i just want to be quiet and love it. let it sink in. i'll be leaving the planet, sometime. and i'll miss it.

— dr. bruce means

'dr. silva,' diego bursts into your office, his hair fluffed and messy, 'i found someone for the expedition!'

'did you... run here?'

'yeah, from the lab.' he gulps a breath. 'i got excited.'

it's fucking awesome that diego, your favorite grad student, is coming on this expedition, but it's becoming a huge pain in the ass to plan — you try your hardest not to feel guilty about why, but it is mostly because of you — and is starting to feel more and more impossible by the day. you don't want to get your hopes up: you don't have that much funding, and it's starting to seem a little bit impossible logistically, even with dr. superion's help. but you'll humor him: 'so who are we taking with us?'

he waits a breath, practically bursting at the seams. 'beatrice zhang.'

'the photographer?'

'she's an experienced climber! you follow her on instagram, right?'

you have gratuitously followed beatrice zhang on instagram for the last four years — for her photography, because it is some of the most beautiful and thoughtful you've ever seen, regardless of the subject matter, but also for the occasional photo of herself, surfing or climbing or behind the camera, particularly delightful if it features her arms in a tank — but diego doesn't need to know that part. 'yes, her work is wonderful for lots of conservationist efforts.' diplomatic, you think, mentally patting yourself on the back.

'and she's hot.'

'i didn't say that.'

diego rolls his eyes.

'anyway, how would we even get her to come with us?'

diego grins. 'i emailed her.'

'what?'

he takes out his phone and shows you her instagram, which, indeed, does have an ‘email’ button, which, obviously, you've never paid attention to before. 'she hasn't responded yet, or her team or whatever, i guess, but i only sent it ten minutes ago. and it went to a legit address and hasn't bounced back, so, i just figured, why not?'

even though, last year, you had had a successful time in guyana, finding and recording a few new species, there are a lot of why not's, really: your GA probably shouldn’t be making these choices without consulting you first, but you don’t really care about that so much as your mobility is more limited than ever lately. the weather probably won't hold so who the fuck knows if it'll even be possible to reach to spot at all. and, plus, it's for a frog. one tiny frog, that may or may not exist — (you're sure it does) — in the middle of a jungle on the top of a tepui that's never been climbed. it's... a little crazy, when you think through it now, way crazier than it had seemed when you wrote the grant for funding last year. most people, even world renowned war-turned-wildlife photographers with insane biceps — especially them, probably — aren't interested in a project like this.

'well, the least that will happen is she doesn't respond,' you figure; you don't believe in any religion and life had dealt you quite the shitty hand for a long time, so if there's any balancing it out, maybe this will be a strike in the good column for you. so, 'yeah, you're right. why not?'

it's two days later when your phone vibrates about seven times; you roll over in... some girl's bed? okay, solid night, then, and when you look over at her, she's beautiful and fast asleep. you remember your fifth shot of tequila and vaguely how great riding her dick had been; you find your phone graciously plugged into a charger on the nightstand on your side of the bed, and when you go to the bathroom you see condoms in the small trash can — so, all in all, a success. your back is sore but not terrible and you groan when you see it's only six am, but there's texts from diego and you have a policy not to ignore those, no matter how stupid they occasionally can be.

these are unequivocally not stupid, though, because they start with dr. silva! and then ava!!!!! ava! and devolve into some emojis and then omg oh my god and finally check your email, which is really the only helpful part of that — but they're not stupid because when you do check your email, you see a forwarded message from diego first. it's a cordial reply to the email he had sent to beatrice zhang, from her, it seems, asking politely to be put in touch with the lead biologist on the expedition if possible. which, you remember with the tiniest bit of a happy jolt, is you. you open the newest email, which is, in fact, connecting you and beatrice. she’s already responded, and it’s kind of wild because, from the three short sentences asking if you could set up a video chat to talk more about the expedition or, if she happened to be close to where you were in the world, even meet near your office or lab for coffee, she sounds, well, at least interested. you don't think someone like her — someone who has photographed war, and famine, and wildfires, and, miraculously last year, a snow leopard and her cub — would even respond to something she didn't care at all about.

holy shit, you text diego. you need a cup of coffee, or, like, maybe three cups of coffee, and a breakfast sandwich before you can respond to that email, so you decide to get a move on. plus, it feels unhinged to respond to it from your phone, so you need to go home anyway. you should also maybe definitely shower, you think, as you look at yourself in the mirror: your makeup is a little smudged and your hair is an unrepentant mess. still hot though, you think when you quietly find your clothes and put your bra on, a deep teal that makes your boobs look awesome. thankfully, you were just in high-waisted, loose jeans and a cropped sweater last night, so after you wash your face and get dressed, it's not really giving walk of shame — walk of pride, thank you very much.

you google maps where you are and, thankfully, it's a nice enough morning and a short enough distance that you can walk to your favorite cafe and then to your apartment without having to call an uber. you grab your cane from where you'd left it propped up by the wall near the bed, and then, because you're definitely not an asshole, gently shake your, well, one night stand's shoulder. her eyes are green, and you do remember that much.

'i gotta go do some work, sorry.'

she nods. 'right. doctor.'

well, maybe you're a little bit of an asshole, but it's not your fault that people think you're a very important neurosurgeon or something. you are very important in cataloguing biodiversity, so you just roll with it. 'thanks for a great time.'

she nods with a soft smile, and it's nice to kiss her, gently, goodbye.

'wait, you're meeting with her? here?'

'yes,' you say, mostly annoyed at camila's vaguely unhinged energy. 'she's close by train, so it's better to meet in person.'

'oh my god,' camila says. she's one of your best friends and probably the smartest, most tech-savvy person you know. when you figured out how helpful it would be to have someone operate drones for you on this expedition, you hadn't even bothered to ask anyone else.

'don't you know her?'

'well, sure,' camila confirms. 'i did some drone work for her a few months ago in the bahamas when she was photographing sharks. but, like, she's amazing, ava.'

'well, hopefully she'll say yes.'

'you'll have to charm her.'

'i'm very good at charming hot women.'

camila rolls her eyes.

'i'm also very good at charming people to go find frogs with me.'

she waits for a beat and then relents. 'well, i suppose that's true.'

'come on,' you say, 'help me make a slide deck. i feel like she'd think that's sexy or something.'

'you're ridiculous.'

'it'll work, i'm telling you.'

beatrice zhang in soft wool pants and closed-toed birkenstocks and a crewneck sweater sitting ramrod straight at the decent cafe just off campus near your office is, quite honestly, not a sight you'd ever expected to see, but it is kind of a miracle. or, at least that's what it had felt like, when she had emailed that she was, actually, a few hours away by train and wouldn't mind a day trip to meet in person. you're glad that you wore your best professor outfit today, flared navy slacks that make your ass look divine, and a crisp white button up that you tucked in tight and rolled up at the sleeves, a camel peacoat and expensive loafers that dr. salvius had gotten you when you passed your dissertation two years ago. you usually wear... well, not this — you reserve this for conferences and presentations — but, if looking professional helps beatrice sign onto this project, so be it.

and, well, maybe it's not strictly professional to undo another button as you had walked to the cafe, and, like, you don't actually know if beatrice is gay or not, but you spot her and smile and wave and her eyes get big for a moment, and you’re afraid you’ve got it all wrong: you’re small and young and pretty and, sometimes, people think that disqualifies you from being smart. but then her eyes rake over you and linger, for just a moment, on your chest, so you're probably right. if this helps too, so be it.

you wave and she stands very formally; she clearly recognizes you, which makes you feel a small thrill of satisfaction. 'hey, glad you found it okay.'

'i've had much more difficult locations to navigate before, although the freshman can be a bit scary.'

it's deadpan, so it takes you a split second, but then you laugh and offer your hand. 'i'm dr. silva.' you want to roll your eyes at your title, which you normally feel quite proud of, all of a sudden. 'ava, any pronouns.'

'dr. silva,' she says anyway, and shakes your hand firmly. 'it's a pleasure. i'm beatrice, she/her.'

only after do you sit, a little sprawled, and prop your cane up on the table, does she sit too, and then looks down at the menu. 'do you recommend anything? i haven't had lunch yet.'

'well, if you're like, uh... —' falling prey to diet culture, you think, but you don't know beatrice at all, so — 'wanting a vegetable forward option, their salads and quinoa bowls are okay.'

she wrinkles her nose. you hide a smile in the collar of your coat.

'but their kimchi fried chicken sandwich is my favorite.'

'and the slaw?'

'well, i'm a fries girl.'

she smiles over the top of her menu, just slightly.

'but my friend likes the slaw, and i trust her.'

she nods and sets her menu down, her wrists resting on the edge of the table, her hands clasped. a practical smart watch, no wedding band. her full attention is on you and it makes you feel a little breathless.

you're saved from saying something incredibly dumb — you're very, very smart, and you're actually very good at flirting, but beatrice zhang is hot as hell and a certified badass and you also really want her to be, like, your colleague — when your server comes to your table. you both order, and you get the fried chicken sandwich too, even though you already ate lunch an hour ago — diego's always happy to eat your leftovers out of the fridge in the lab anyway.

you're not saved from saying something marginally dumb, though, because beatrice kindly thanks your server and hands over her menu and then looks at you again, fully focused.

'i like your hair,’ you say, instead of, well, anything else. you want to groan and slam your head down into the table, or something, because beatrice's brows knit together and she brings one hand to run through her floppy middle part, short in the back and on the sides, pushing it out of her eyes.

'oh,' she says, softly and definitely confused. 'thank you.'

you're sure you're blushing. 'sorry, i just, like, the last time you posted — you had long hair.'

it's mortifying, the moment you say it, because you can mentally calculate the last time beatrice posted a picture of herself on her instagram, and it was definitely over a year ago.

she also seems to realize this, because her confusion turns to a smug little smile that could probably eat you alive. you'd definitely let it.

'i read about the last species of frog you discovered, when the article came out.'

that was also over a year ago, and you laugh, tension releasing from your shoulders. 'so that’s how you knew what i looked like.’

‘sure.’

to be fair, the article did include a picture of you, muddy and sweaty and overjoyed, holding a tiny frog in the palm of your hand, but, ‘did you google me?’

‘i only take on projects, at this point, that i find interesting.’

‘so you think i’m interesting.’

she raises a brow, a scar that also wasn’t there over a year ago running an inch above it and then straight through, cleanly healed but not faded yet, stopping right on the top of her cheek — thankfully your brain didn't comment on that, even though it's kind of hot too. ‘i think that fact that you've already identified six new species of frog two years into an assistant professorship is interesting.’

'so that's a yes.' you grin. ‘want me to tell you about the project, then?'

she thanks your server when he brings her water and your lemonade of the day, and a coffee, and then leans forward in her seat. ‘yes,' she says. 'i do.’

you tell her about it as coherently as you can: you're sure there's a brand new species of frog — maybe more than one, if you're lucky — on the top of a land mass deep in the forest in guyana. you've secured enough funding to make it happen; bare bones, but still. you have diego and yasmine, your grad students, and michael, another assistant professor in your apartment who's helped you on expeditions before, mostly by carrying a bunch of shit. you've gotten camila — who beatrice is also very excited to work with again — to sign on to do tech work for you. dr. superion and dr. salvius are helping from here.

'so, anyway, i need you to climb the tepui.'

beatrice sits back when you're done, flicks through a few slides on your laptop that you'd handed to her with pictures of the jungle, the cliff face, the budget outlines and logistics and equipment you anticipate you'll need.

'do you know a lot about climbing?'

it's kind — to not assume that you don't; to not expect you to either. you shake your head no.

'i'm an alpinist, for the most part,' she says, 'which means that i climb, well —' she pauses.

'no need to be modest for me.'

she offers a small smile. 'i've climbed eight of the ten tallest mountains in the world.'

hot, you think, but you take a deep breath instead and say, 'that's impressive.' nailed it.

'yes, well.' she blushes. 'thank you. but this kind of climbing is traditional climbing — big wall climbing.'

'oh.' you frown. 'so, you can't do it?'

'i can,' she says, 'and i'd like to. i think i know enough of biology to be marginally helpful, and i can certainly photograph the expedition.'

your heart soars, warming your whole body, and you take a bite of your lukewarm sandwich to hide your smile.

'but i'll need a team. i'm confident that i'll be able to get up the wall, but i'm not experienced enough at this kind of climbing to lead on all of these passes.'

'we might not have the funds to pay much, if you bring on more people.'

she shakes her head. 'i have access to plenty of discretionary funds, so that shouldn't be a problem.'

'that's hot.' well, you tried.

she laughs, thank god. 'i just wanted to make sure that you and your team are okay with me bringing other people on.'

'as long as they aren't, like, shitty, you know. racist, homophobic, ableist. all that stuff.'

she nods, very seriously. 'i can assure you that, while one of my climbing partners is inclined to be an asshole, it's always done with respect toward important identities. she's more annoying than anything. and my other partner is the best person i know.'

'well, other than me, now.'

you can tell beatrice is torn between smiling and rolling her eyes; she does a bit of both. 'and, as far as logistics go, i could easily provide a helicopter to get us in as far as possible. less of a hike.'

it's impossible that beatrice didn't see your cane. 'i have adaptive equipment for myself. i can do the hike.'

but her brows knit together. 'yes, i assumed so: you're leading the expedition. i just meant, for my team at least, the fewer miles we have to bring photography and climbing gear in a jungle, the better. it's heavy, and then we have to do a major climb.'

'oh.' you bite your bottom lip. 'that makes sense. sorry, people suck sometimes.'

'i imagine so.' she looks at you very sincerely. 'i'm sorry.'

you wave her off. 'thanks. it is what it is, though.'

beatrice doesn't try to argue, although you can tell that maybe she wants to. 'anyway, whatever you think will help your team, and whatever will help mine, that falls outside of your grant funds, i can cover.'

'that's — are you sure?'

she nods. 'quite.'

'where did you get these discretionary funds?' you can't help asking.

'a bad man,' she says, leaning forward and whispering dramatically. it makes you laugh.

'ooh, did you kill him? warlord?'

'alas, no. my father, and he's already dead.'

'ah.' you snap your fingers. 'well, if another opportunity comes up, you just let me know. i have tons of lethal neurotoxins in my lab. i'm always down to... you know — murder —' you whisper — 'a billionaire. long haul ethics, you know?'

she nods very solemnly, fighting a smile. 'i'll keep that under advisement.'

you fight the urge to ask her for a drink, and you definitely stare at her mouth a little too long, but then you get it together and offer your hand. 'well, partners?'

she shakes it, hers strong and rough with callouses. the thought sends a little shiver up your spine, but you valiantly ignore it. 'partners.'

beatrice invites you, after a few days of emailing back and forth to create an updated budget and logistics plan, to meet at a climbing gym. it's to meet her other two team members first. before you all get together with your main crew for dinner afterward. she'd given you their names, headshots, and very formal bios, which you had kind of loved: lilith, who, according to beatrice's bio, will be the lead climber. when you google her, you find out that she's, like, a world champion big wall climber, so that bodes well. and then mary, another photographer and world class marksman — I know this isn't particularly relevant, beatrice had included as a footnote, but it is quite impressive — and avid climber too.

you're hopeful about it all, and you're hopeful that tonight maybe she just wants to see you alone, and to have you watch her climb. there's, like, a two percent chance you'll physically be able to climb, really, but that's fine. she'd texted you about it, far less formal than her perfectly punctuated emails, so that's a good sign. and she'd posted a recent picture someone took of her — a candid, petting the trunk of an elephant peacefully — on her instagram too. maybe that was scheduled — beatrice seems like the kind of person who would schedule instagram posts — but a girl can hope, you know? you liked it one hour and fourteen minutes after she posted, from the lab's social media account and not your personal one, so you figure you've handled this all perfectly. you're great, beatrice is a colleague, and you've got this.

you're stressed about what to wear to a climbing gym and then to get dinner afterward, although there's probably a locker room or something, but it's fine. you're hot in anything. (or nothing. not that the night is going to go there.) you settle on tight leggings you wear to the gym and a sports bra, a cropped jacket on over. it's, like, cute and femme, but also practical. you brush on some mascara and put part of your hair into a little bun so it won't fall into your eyes, and you pack a spare change of clothes in a canvas tote — slacks and a nice bra and a t-shirt that hugs your body perfectly along with a pair of platform converse and an army-green overshirt — in case everyone else changes before going to dinner.

you grab your cane and head out the door.

if you fall to your death, it's definitely not going to be because of your back or legs. it's going to be because beatrice is in loose pants that seem comfortable for climbing and a tight racerback tank, and when you walk in, she's hanging by one arm on a short wall, just chilling out there, before she seems to decide what she wants to do. she brings her legs up to find footholds and then she's almost upside down, holding onto the wall with both hands calmly and moving so fluidly — a leg stretching out, her chalked fingers grasping onto a tiny hold. there's a delicate tattoo along her right forearm, all linework, and there are scars all over her left shoulder, running down to her elbow from what you can see: some are jagged and some are clean, neat, like surgical incisions. they don't seem to be limiting her progress at all, because she moves over the outhanging ledge easily and then to the top before just letting go and calmly rolling to her feet after she lands without a sound.

the — very hot — woman, lilith, you know from the headshot, sitting on the floor next to the wall, legs outstretched, leaning back on her palms set flat on the ground behind, and looking impossibly graceful while doing it, groans.

'getting stuck that long on a soft V8? come on, beatrice.'

beatrice, to her credit, just shrugs.

'shoulder?' the other woman asks.

'it's fine,' beatrice says. 'just getting back into the groove of your tiny walls.'

'oh, ha ha.'

'8091 meters will really change your perspective. you should try it sometime.'

'no thanks, i'll stick to my world records, thank you very much.'

they seem like they might physically fight, but then they both start laughing. weird, but you fuck with it.

beatrice turns, her hands on her hips, and, like, whew, god fucking bless, and then waves with a smile when she sees you. she walks over. 'hello ava.'

'hey,' you say, suddenly feeling a little awkward: you have not a single idea what you're doing. 'that was pretty impressive.'

'it was not,' the lilith says.

beatrice heads toward her anyway, and you follow. 'you can ignore her most of the time,' she says. 'dr. silva, this is lilith. lilith, dr. silva.'

'just ava.' you look at beatrice with a raised brow. 'please.'

lilith lazily salutes. 'ava, then. our illustrious leader, i hear. beatrice is making me lead a 1000 foot first ascent for a frog?'

'i'm not making you do anything,' beatrice says, and lilith grumbles like a teenager. it's funny, and you decide that you like her then and there, even if she scares you a little. she scares you a little more when she gracefully gets to her feet. she's tall and imposing, with a sharp face and long hair braided back, more wiry than beatrice's bigger muscles, but — you're sure — just as strong.

she offers her hand, which you shake. 'in my defense,' you say, 'it is a very cool frog. we can even name it after you, if you want.'

this seems to amuse her, because there's a hint of a smile on her face. 'i do like first ascents anyway.'

'see,' you say, 'that's the spirit.'

'ava,' beatrice says, 'no pressure, but i thought you might find it fun to try climbing. only if you'd like.'

'i'm, uh —' you gesture a little clumsily with your cane, the tips of your ears turning red. 'not sure that i can?'

'mary is an adaptive climbing instructor,' beatrice says, gesturing over to the taller wall with ropes connected through pulleys at the top, where a strong Black woman with perfectly neat braids and a dark outfit on is sorting through a few harnesses on the ground. 'but if you'd rather not climb, lilith and i are just finishing up. we can show you a few things we've been practicing in anticipation for the route, and then change and go to dinner.'

beatrice doesn't say either choice with any more or less merit, or worth, or importance: they're choices, and they're yours, and they won't affect how much she trusts you or believes in the expedition. lilith is checking her phone, uninterested at this point, and you decide, as you always have, to try.

'yeah, sure. i have no idea what adaptive climbing is, though.'

beatrice smiles and lilith stays on her phone, texting. 'that's fine. i have no idea about ninety percent of what you study.'

'i find that hard to believe. you're a wildlife photographer.'

she hums, softly touching your elbow and then walking toward mary. 'conservationist photography, sure. but i'm not a biologist.'

you make a note that beatrice doesn't really like wildlife photographer as a job title, although she was polite enough to not outright tell you so. 'well, i'm not a climber, so, quid pro quo?'

'ah, but you will be after tonight,' mary says, standing with a smile and offering her hand. 'dr. silva, right?'

'just ava,' you tell her, endeared by the fact that beatrice had probably been very formally saying dr. silva to her team this entire time. you shake mary's hand as firmly as you can and feel immediately a little more relaxed with the confident, easy way she holds her shoulders, her kind smile, her bright eyes.

'beatrice and i go way back,' she says. 'this project of yours sounds amazing. i was excited when she asked if i wanted in.'

'of course i'd ask,' beatrice says, bumping mary in the shoulder, who rolls her eyes fondly.

'well, beatrice said you were promised an adaptive climbing lesson.'

'if you're still in,' beatrice says, 'mary can show you the ropes.' she laughs at herself. 'literally.'

mary groans, but you're delighted. 'well, don't leave me hanging.'

'no. not another bad pun aficionado. please.'

beatrice grins and you sling an arm over her slightly sweaty and delightfully strong shoulders. she stiffens a little, and mary looks to her for a moment, and you're worried you've overstepped, and fast. but then beatrice relaxes.

you step back and gesture between the two of you happily. 'is this our thing now?'

'if trading terrible puns is wrong, then i don't want to be right.'

mary groans. 'not sure why i agreed to this trip after all.'

'we can name a frog after you, if you want,' you offer.

mary perks up. 'really?'

'yeah,' you say, 'sure. i've already named one after myself and given five others the dumbest, gayest names i could think of.'

'i'm back in, then.'

you laugh. 'well, let's rock and try not to roll.'

mary sighs, but beatrice's muffled laugh into your shoulder is way worth it.

Hi Ava, I'll be in town today to get some equipment squared away. I was wondering if maybe you'd like to have dinner if you're free. No shop talk, unless you want

you read and reread the text. you'd gone over shitty — expected, but still shitty — test results from an mri at your neurologist's earlier today, and, even though your team seemed to gel the other night, and all of your logistics are much less daunting now that beatrice has covered some of them financially, you had planned to stay home in your favorite boxers and most comfortable hoodie and wallow with a mediocre bottle of wine and good pizza and great reality tv.

but — hey, that sounds sweet. any places in mind?

beatrice texts back almost immediately. I don't know the area too well. You can pick, if you'd like

like, you're colleagues. you're about to be in one of the most remote parts of the world together in five days, with just a handful of other people, for weeks, maybe longer. you're the leader of the expedition but beatrice is, in important ways, a leader too. she's smart and beautiful and handsome and focused. if it's a date, incredible; if it's not, you still want to know her, you still want to spend time in her gentle warmth.

any food allergies/hatred?

she responds, No, I'm pretty adventurous

still, no clarity, but you set a place and time — one of your favorite tapas restaurants with a great little bar and, if it gets late enough, a good dance floor — and then set about getting ready. you eat a banana and take ibuprofen, which hopefully will help you be able to dance without much pain, and then get as pretty as you deem not desperate for a normal dinner with a colleague to be. which, it's you, so you're still very, very pretty, including one of your very best cleavage tanks. you finish your eyeliner perfectly and blow yourself a little kiss in the mirror. for good luck, or whatever. it's science.

'i got tired of it,' beatrice says. 'war photography is...' she pauses, and shakes her head, like she doesn't quite know what to tell you. you're totally sure she's not telling the truth, not really, but you know not to push, to spook her away. 'i could leave,' she settles on. 'as much as i hate the west, as much as i hate american and european, especially british, foreign policy, and its destruction of the world — i got to take pictures, and leave. at first, i thought it was something important i could do, to record the truth. political inherently, anti-imperialist, without being in politics. but, i was in occupied palestine, and, then, after —' she clears her throat, brings her fingers up to ghost over the scar through her brow — 'after. i couldn't do it. they're wars because of my history — our collective history — but they weren't my wars. they aren’t my wars. i can’t photograph them, at least right now. because i got to leave.'

you're horrified that she might start to cry — which isn't horrifying, not at all, you cry all the time, but you're supposed to be having a nice meal with your colleague and you had asked what you thought was an innocuous question about how she got into her more recent conservationist work, but clearly, not innocuous. you're starting to think, with a kind of clarity you very rarely have about anyone, that nothing about beatrice herself is innocuous. even her collarless button down and loose pants cuffed at the ankles — and the way all of her clothes, ever practical, drape with a tailored casualness on her small, strong frame — her easy hair that’s always actually perfectly trimmed and styled, the pattern of callouses on her hands: everything about her is intentioned. she means what she says. she means what she does. she means who she is.

'i started studying frogs with my mom,' you offer. it's true, and you mean who you are too.

she takes a sip of her water and nods in what you can tell is a quiet relief.

'my family is from manaus. my mom wasn't a scientist or anything, she was a bank teller, but when i was little, we'd go out often. she loved the rainforest, so, you know, i loved the rainforest.'

beatrice smiles gently. 'that sounds beautiful.'

you stare down at a croqueta and tear a small piece of it off, let the old ache fill your chest. 'she died, when i was seven.'

'oh,' beatrice says, 'i —'

'— it was a long time ago,' you say.

'sometimes that doesn't make it hurt any less.'

it's permission, to feel how you need to. most people accept when you tell them that and move on in relief, unwilling or unable to give you the space. but beatrice sits steadily. 'i broke my back, during the car accident we were in; we were visiting spain and, well. i had to relearn to walk. it took a really long time, and the orphanage i grew up in wasn't big on good physical therapy or really any care, so i taught myself what i could outside of school, got into university, got good medical care for the first time, like, ever. and i started studying biology. i went back to the rainforest as soon as i could, as a research assistant, and guyana was ... it's mind-blowing, bea.'

she weighs it all in contemplative silence for a moment, trying to decide what you need; what relief she can give. ‘i can't wait to see. i've always wanted to go.'

it is relief, what you feel, to be so immediately seen and understood. 'well, it's not just anyone i'd want to bring to the rainforest. my mom's favorites were always frogs, so —' you shrug, suddenly a little at a loss.

'so here we are, about to go find another.'

you pop the croqueta into your mouth, feel the dull pain in your chest dissipate when you realize you're close enough to beatrice's face to see her freckles. 'i have spinal stenosis, from the accident. it's progressing pretty fast, even with the best medical team, tech, surgeries, all that.'

she nods, like she understands what you mean without making you have to say it. it's a gift, bigger than she probably knows.

'i really want to find that fucking frog.'

'well,' she says, and lifts her glass, 'to finding our frog.'

'you know, it's bad luck to toast with water.'

she frowns. 'i don't usually drink.'

'you're very... controlled.'

she waits a beat and then grins. 'okay, one beer.'

'fuck yeah!'

'one, ava.'

'mhm. whatever you say, bea.'

'i have to take the train back,' beatrice argues — or, at least, tries to argue, because her eyes drift down to your boobs when you take your sweater off. success.

'you can just stay at my place. i have a mediocre ikea couch.'

'i can't let you sleep on your own couch.'

you laugh. 'oh, you definitely get the couch. i need all the good mattress support i can get before i sleep in a tent for a month.'

she smiles, gently and a little sad, but then the moment passes, a kind of grace. 'fine.'

'really?'

the set of her shoulders is looser but still sure, still so, so certain. 'yes.'

'hell yeah!' she laughs. 'shots?'

beatrice pulls a face but you order lemon drops anyway, mostly because vodka seems neutral and they're a good shot for people who don't drink often, sweet and tangy and fun. beatrice sniffs hers first — bold move, big mistake most of the time — but then nods in approval.

'to our frog,' you say, and she clinks her glass with yours. you touch it to the bartop and she follows suit, and then take it as smoothly as you can. it's an easy drink, so you don't have any problems, and she swallows without too much of a grimace. 'okay?'

'it's not bad,' she says, and your whole body hums, probably because of the two margaritas you had with dinner and this shot now, but also because there are freckles stretching across her cheeks and gold flecks in her brown eyes and if you let yourself look closely a tiny split on her lip, probably from the dry, cool air recently.

you shake yourself out of... whatever that was, and you order two more shots; she takes hers without hesitation this time, laughing when you spill a little down your cheek. she reaches a hand and wipes with her strong hand, tender, over the corner of your mouth, down to your jaw, and then clears her throat, takes her hand back quickly, although you want to ask for her to stay. but instead, 'come on, bea,' you say, 'let's dance!'

she only groans in a show of protest for posterity, you're sure, because she's very strong and you're very small and when you tug on her wrists she follows you easily.

you love to dance; you have always loved to dance: what little you remember of your mom is full of green, the rainforest and the wall of your living room. she would push back all the furniture to the edges, just the two of you in a small apartment, where you slept in the same bed and ate fruit from the trees outside. she would put on britney spears and jump around with you; she would put on stevie nicks and hold you in her arms, swaying around. she was full of light, from what you remember, always ready to read to you, in portugese and in english; to help you with your math and your handwriting. she cut your food for you and bought you new shoes when yours wore through the soles. she had been a good mom in the way good moms are: happy to hold your hand, to rub her nose against yours, to let you eat the batter off the spoon. you don't remember much, not before the accident, but it had been easy, and beautiful — the mist and orchids and green, all around.

beatrice is a little stiff until you start jumping around, fully out of time with the music, just to make her laugh. and she does, a smile lighting up her whole face. her body is graceful like this too, like it's always somehow known exactly how to move. you wonder, fleetingly between songs, what she was like as a child, if she was as sure and smart and kind as she is now. someone crowds into her space from behind and then you're not thinking of anything other than the tickle of her hair against your cheek as she presses into you, the lilt of her laugh into your ear, the hard muscles of her shoulders and the soft, small swell of her hips when you bring your palms to rest there. you're drunk and she's beautiful, and you've kissed lots of beautiful people when you've been drunk. but she closes her eyes and sways to the beat and it's like the rest of the world falls away. it's like there's only you and beatrice and the cloud forest, above anything else that has harmed and will harm again. there's her gold skin and scars and tattoos hidden under her shirt, the healed slices down your spine, the air between your bodies: sweaty, sticky with spilled drinks, thumping bass, everyone else in this bar. there's only the two of you, and it's a little like you've been punched in the gut: you're falling in love with her. it's easy, right now, to put a name to it all, when you can look at her jaw without reproach.

she opens her eyes and looks at you, a smile on her face, and leans in your direction. it's easy, to bring your hand to touch where you had been staring, to say, 'bea,' as she laughs into your neck, says, 'this is so fun, thank you.' it's hard to not kiss her, but she's ... extraordinary, and you don't want your first kiss to be in the middle of a mid-at-best dance floor after a few shots. you want it to be somewhere beautiful. somewhere you already know; somewhere you're certain she'll love.

'let's go home,' you say, because you had done another round somewhere between songs and she's slightly unsteady on her feet. she nods into your neck and you take her hand.

you walk back to your apartment with her, one arm looped through hers — 'very gallant,' you'd said when she'd offered, and even in the dim light from the moon and streetlamps you had seen her blush — and your other hand using your cane. she had found it for you, tucked behind where you had been sitting at the bar; she hadn't asked anything about why you didn't use it when you were dancing, or why you need it now. you know so many good people and you organize a lot with some of your other friends who work with the disability center at the university, but there is some kind of a revelation about being seen so wholly.

but maybe you're also just a little drunk, because she sways a bit as you walk and her accent is lilting, tender, her hair messy in her eyes. it's probably as soft as it looks; you had lost your hair tie somewhere between shots two and three and you tuck yours behind your ear. you have so many questions you want to ask her but you hold them in because she looks up at the moon and the stars and it's enough, to be here with her. to know her laugh, now, and the way she has hurt too.

it's enough to just walk.

it hadn't actually taken too much convincing — after you unlocked the door and gave her some choices in pajamas, soft sleep shorts and a big cotton crew her eventual choices, and gotten her a glass of water and a few cheddar crackers — to get her to agree to sleep in your bed with you. perhaps it had been because your couch is ... an unknown number of years old — 'listen, bea, phd students make, like, no money, and it was twenty bucks on craigslist three years go' — or maybe, maybe, it's because she just wants to.

you settle in first, listen to her brush her teeth with a spare toothbrush you'd given her, and wash her face with your facewash — that she had frowned at, accidentally rude but pretty funny and, like, fair, you got it from the drug store on the corner and you're sure she has a whole understated fancy little routine when she's not out in the field — and then wash her hands after going to the bathroom. you love sex, so you sleep with people often. you've had a boyfriend before, that you cared about deeply, so there's some parts of intimacy that are familiar to you, of course. but this, beatrice carefully climbing into bed next to you, with her freckles and her eyelashes and the pink of her lips, is different: you're not going to kiss her, not right now. you're not going to reach out and put your palm on her jaw like you want to, or feel the warm skin of her ribs, the goosebumps that would inevitably rise there if you raked your nails across the ridges. you're not going to because, you know, somewhere elemental in you, that you want to know her, and love her, for a long time. you want to take her to the rainforest.

'where's your favorite place in the world?' you ask instead, whisper it into the dark, the soft outline of her face.

she's turned toward you, her hands tucked carefully under her chin; it makes her look younger. 'tibet. the himalayas.'

'makes sense. you and your big mountains.'

'what's the last mountain you... summited?'

'annapurna. it's the tenth tallest in the world.' she pauses, considering. 'are we playing twenty questions?'

her eyelids are drooping. 'i don't think you're going to be awake for twenty questions.'

she laughs softly. 'i want to ask you one, though.'

'hmm. sure. two to four questions, then.'

'do you... uh, well, okay. do you like women?'

it's so awkward, so out of place for someone so sure, that you have to fight the urge to burst out in laughter. but it's also soft, and nervous, her eyes wide. it makes you feel sixteen again, full of possibility. 'yeah, bea. i'm bi. i love women.'

she nods, tucks her hands even tighter under her chin, lets a big relieved breath out. 'cool.'

'yeah?'

'mhm. i'm a lesbian, if you didn't know.'

you want to say you're the gayest looking person i've ever met but you refrain. for the romance of it all. 'good to know.'

she tries hard to wink and fails miserably. you let yourself, just once, just for a moment, reach out and run your hand through her hair. she leans into your touch, relaxes under it, before you fold yourself back onto your side of the bed. 'you have one more question.'

'so do you.'

'okay. hmm. favorite ice cream flavor?'

she laughs. 'that's what you want to know.'

you nod. 'it's very important information.'

'okay.' she thinks hard about it, genuinely. 'mint chocolate chip?'

'that's so boring, jeez.'

'oh, i'm sorry. simple combinations of dynamic tastes is probably too sophisticated for you to understand.'

'okay, ratatouille.'

she tries, a valiant effort, to not crack a smile, but she eventually does. 'okay, my turn. favorite color?'

you let your eyes fall closed and imagine it all, the sharp thorns and the torrential rain and the chirp of the neon blue frog you'd found last time. you think about taking her there. 'green, of course,' you tell her, a promise, a future in the clouds. 'green.'

#conservationist au #conservationist au 🐸#ft butch bea but we gotta have different tags lol but she's here #just ch1 but ch2 is the expedition!#avatrice #avatrice fic #wn #wn fic #frog au #i guess bc y’all love that lol

195 notes · View notes

narwhal-butterfly · 2 years ago

Text

I know I'm a little late to this because it's past School Dance season but this still stands

if you are thinking about taking your Mobility Aid to a school dance

DO IT

If anyone tells you 'you shouldn't' don't listen. Even if you've been having a good month or a good week and you're doing better, take it anyway, what harm could it do? And I am saying this is someone who went to prom with their Mobility Aid who was walking fine for the week leading up to it and then had a kinda shit mobility day before the dance(day of) and then it got better and I thought 'maybe I won't need it' the minute I walked into the area where the prom was I started shaking Idk why but I started shaking so me and my best friend walked over to a bench I had to sit down for like five fucking minutes and pull out my cane, I used my cane majority of the night and as previously stated I was doing better before I went I was doing fine and then I wasn't because that's how it works, I might not have collapsed if I didn't use my cane but I would not have been enjoying myself

moral of the story bring your Mobility Aid if you think you could need it

#mobility aid #physically disabled #physical disability #fibromyalgia #cane user #cane #hypermobile eds #hypermobile ehlers danlos #ehlers danlos syndrome #chronic pain #chronically ill #chronic illness #chronic fatigue

105 notes · View notes

a-libra-writes · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! I wanted to thank you because your writing is amazing and convinced me to finally read asoiaf.

Could you please write some long-ish headcanons about oberyn and jamie and how they would be with a disabled reader who struggles to walk.

Thank you.

thanks, I hope you're enjoying the books so far!! whose your favorite POV so far? also, added your two requested characters plus some extras.

Oberyn - The Viper gives you the usual charm and affection he'd give to a Paramour. That also means his usual temper is still there ... as in, anyone trying to upset or insult you will have to deal with Oberyn. You now have a Look (tm) you give him whenever you need him to back off. He'd wish that you lived in Sunspear with him so servants might assist you, and he wouldn't be so keen to travel if it's hard on your body.

Considering his brother uses a fanciful (by Westerosi standards, anyway) wheeled chair, Oberyn would float the idea to you. He's also seen and heard of various mobility devices from Essos, if it's something that would interest you. Regardless Oberyn is more than happy to help out when you're feeling tired and wanting some extra support. Doesn't matter if you need to lean on him or be carried, you know he's happy to have the close contact and being able to please you. And no surprise, Oberyn's great at giving foot and leg massages when pain and aches start up. He's gonna joke and try to get you to laugh and get handsy, of course - that's just how he is.

Jaime - Honestly, Jaime sucks when it comes to being considerate about you. It's different if you both grew up together so he was more familiar, but otherwise, he's his usual arrogant self and doesn't understand why you just won't let him carry you. He rather likes doing it - good for his ego, up until he thinks his sister is watching - and it's really not until he's back from the Roadtrip From Hell when there's far more understanding. He feels pretty shit about always treating you as fragile, when clearly you've always had more resilience and maturity than him.

At that point, Jaime finally just waits for you to tell him when you need help. And it's the same for you - he grumbles about it, but it'll take him a while to adjust to losing his dominant hand, so sometimes he needs your assistance, too. You're one of the very few people who sees him without his prosthetic, but you also witness a far more vulnerable side that he's always had to bury.

Samwell - The shy boy is drawn to you almost immediately because you both are in a similar situation on the Wall - you and Sam are often mocked at worst and ignored at best, and end up relegated to the "boring, pointless" work of helping the blind Maester Aemond. The crush is immediate but he's also relieved to just have a friend to talk to and be more of himself around.

Sam knows the cold doesn't help your disability at all, so he'll squirrel away some extra hides and blankets to give to you. He also likes bringing you books he thinks you'd find interesting, and he gets Jon and the other boys to help him jury-rig a mobility device that might assist with you maneuvering around the stairs or the snow. Sam still likes helping you, though; he's easy to lean on and always warm. He wraps his heavy cloak around your shoulders and helps guide you along the rough paths around Castle Black.

Brienne - She's already a considerate and protective woman, and she'd be moreso if her loved one has a disability that requires them to have some assistance. This doesn't mean she sees you as a fragile thing who needs her, but she want to be of assistance. Brienne wants you to tell her what you'd need and like, and it makes her happy to provide that, no matter how big or small the favor is. Maybe it's a childish thought, but she wants to be your knight.

Big and strong as she is, it's easy for Brienne to offer you a hand for assistance or offer to carry you somewhere. She absolutely understands if you'd rather do it yourself or use a mobility aid. Brienne would probably be great at thinking up a way for you to ride a horse safely with her, or quickly figure the best route for you to take through a new place. She observes when you need help and when you don't, and eventually you two have a series of habits you fall into when moving through spaces.

Jorah - This man is already a very doting and affectionate partner, and that increases doubly so if his partner is needing assistance on the regular. At first, he hovered and fussed too much, and you had to be clear with when you needed help and how. He'd figure it out quick and dial it back; you're most familiar with your own body, after all. He doesn't hesitate to stop what he's doing to help you out, and starts to pick up on when you need the assistance without you saying anything. You both eventually develop little rituals and habits around tricky things, like dismounting a horse or scaling stairs or very uneven terrain.

Being a traveler, he's familiar with different mobility aids he's seen around Essos and would mention them to you, if you don't already have some. Jorah is also down with carrying you when you need it, especially through tough terrain. He's very gentle and likes to chat about this or that while you two navigate through the hard spots. Jorah would also find various ointments and lotions that can help with aches and cramps.

Brandon - While his heart is in the right place, sensitivity is not something Brandon is known for. He'd err on the side of "too protective" for a while, before you finally just smack him upside the head and make it clear you got by just fine before he came along. Note if he grew up with you, he'd be much less annoying about it and would be far better about knowing when you do or don't want his help. It's easy to lean on him with all your strength; he's tall, strong and steady, and he's quick to react if you stumble.

Brandon actually likes to carry you around, both to show off for you and getting to hold you close without people having issue with what's "appropriate" (especially if you two aren't married). He's also wary of some of the rough trails around Winterfell, and the pile-up of snow and ice that could prove difficult for you to maneuver around. He might insist on carrying you to a place like the Godswood, which is covered in roots, rocks and uneven soil.

Mance - If you both met on the Wall, he liked to sit beside you and chat while you went about your usual duties. You were often relegated to jobs that made you sit and do repetitive things for hours, so Mance would keep you company and help your stiff body out of the chair and to your quarters once it was done. The other Brother's poor treatment of you may be one of the many reasons he left. He's great at keeping your hand steady in his, not squeezing too tight and matching your footsteps as you both very carefully tread over the snow.

Meeting you as a wildling, he knows some tribes consider those with disabilities as weaker, and some who think it's just another part of life. He respects your independence and only comes to help if you ask it; sometimes you just want him to fetch a mobility aid you crafted. He hovers a bit when the snow and ice is treacherous, but he also understands you grew up in this frigid waste. He often looks to you on where to step and how to cross - but he's perfectly happy to offer his hand when you ask for it.

Davos - Unlike most people, Davos never stared or commented on your disability. He wouldn't dream of doing such a thing, and actually observes you carefully when you're having trouble walking on your own. He only steps in if you ask or gesture to him, and he holds you firmly yet gently while helping you navigate. When you both are closer, you don't even need to ask; he starts to pick up on when you need him and when you don't. He's really just a fantastically considerate person.

He'd also be quite familiar with mobility aids, both those in Westeros and Essos, and he's pretty damn handy if you're having trouble with it. He's done some pretty weird jury-rigging in his day, and that was on huge boats. And while he probably can't carry you very far, he would still do it if you asked and carry you with utmost care. Again, he won't get far, but it's the thought that counts!

Victarion - Well, no surprises here, he's clueless how to proceed. By Ironborn standards, he should just leave you be and make you deal with it, but - well. He doesn't want to do that. So how about just lifting you up and carrying you where you need to be? He'll just do it without warning, and it takes a lot of protesting before Victarion gets the idea to ask first, damn it. This also means he'll be confused if you want to just hold his hand or lean on him - again, carrying is faster in his eyes.

It's not as though disability is something foreign to the Ironborn, they just have different ideas than the "greenlanders". If it was something gained in battle, you ought to be proud, and if you were visibly born with it - well, staying stubborn and resilient can earn admiration. If it's an invisible disability, that's more difficult to understand, and Victarion is not a bright man. Still, he wants you to keep your good opinion of him and he does attempt.

#oberyn martell x reader #jaime lannister x reader #samwell tarly x reader #brienne of tarth x reader #jorah mormont x reader #brandon stark x reader #mance rayder x reader #davos seaworth x reader #victarion greyjoy x reader

133 notes · View notes

corrieguards · 2 years ago

Text

How they show affection

Jesse, Tup, Harcase, Kix

Summary: some headcanons about how our boys would show you they love you.

C/W: none

A/N: I typed this out on a whim today and on mobile, so apologies for any typos. This is very much not proof read.

my masterlist

Jesse

Jesse wants to spoil you. He sees all the other civvie couples buying each other beautiful gifts and he wishes so badly that he could do that for you. You've told him multiple times that you don't mind, you're more than happy with just him. But he says you deserve it anyway.

And seeing as he doesn't actually earn any credits, he compromises by picking up little trinkets while he’s off-world. Flowers, pretty rocks… anything that he sees and thinks you’ll like.

The one he is most proud of is a dainty little bracelet he happened to stumble across on Ryloth. In a moment of luck he spotted it buried under the ash and rumble of what had once was a bustling Twi’lek city. It was dirty and scorched but still so striking that he plucked it up anyway.

Upon further examination that night, he realised that it was broken, metal clasp rusted through and jammed shut. But he was determined to gift it to you, so he spent the rest of his free time during that mission polishing it up and wrestling with it, eventually getting it up to a semi-functional state.

The next time he sees you he proudly presents it to you, relishing in the way your eyes shine with excitement. You adore it and haven't taken it off since mostly because you couldn't get the clasp to open again once you'd put it on, but don't tell Jesse that

Tup

Tup is a sweetheart, we all know that much. He loves you and wants to show you just how much, but he sometimes finds it difficult to express that to your face. When you'd asked why he'd replied that he can't think straight around you, you're too pretty and it messes with his head.

So to combat this, one of his go to ways of showing you his love is leaving little notes around for you to find. He can pour his heart into them without getting nervous or stuttering through it. And he'll leave them around randomly for you to find.

If he's going on a extra long mission and he knows he won't see you for a long time he leaves you longer and more detailed notes, which you affectionately refer to as your 'love letters'.

Harcase

He likes to be touching you at all times. His mind is always running, thinking about the next thing and he struggles to tame it sometimes. The feel of your skin on his grounds him and reminds him that you're here with him right now.

Be it a hand on the small of your back, your head resting on his shoulder, or one of his personal favorites, hugging your from behind while you're busy doing something else. Anything where he can feel your skin on his, he automatically loves.

His absolute favourite is when you let him pull you into his lap. Hardcase finds it difficult to stay put and sit still, so one of the ways he tries to suppress that is by pulling you onto his lap and just keep you there for as long as you'll let him. It's the only time he doesn't feel the urge to get up or start fidgeting.

The weight of you sitting on top of him is something he finds reassuring and calming. He especially likes it when you let him do it in public.

Kix

Maybe it's the medic in him, but Kix shows his love by caring for you and checking up on you as often as he can. Sending little messages to check if you've eaten today, if you've drank enough water, if you slept enough…

Some people might find this annoying, but you find it extremely endearing. It shows he cares and thinks about you even when you're not there.

When he is able to be with you properly, and without distractions, he will absolutely pamper you. He'll run you a bath, play with your hair, give you a massage… Anything to make you feel good.

Kix gives the absolute best massages. I mean c'mon, he's a medic. He knows exactly which spots to kneed and how to work them to get you groaning and melting into putty in his hands.

He just wants you to feel as comfortable as possible, and he'll do everything in his power to make sure of it. This man would bend over backwards just to make sure you are happy and well cared for.

#my headcanons #jesse #tup #hardcase #kix #tcw jesse #tcw tup #tcw hardcase #tcw kic #clone medic kix #tcw #clone headcanons

100 notes · View notes

xikerriess · 2 years ago

Text

Sweatshirt, K. Junghoon

kim junghoon x reader

genre: fluff, a bit of angst

warnings: none

a/n: I wrote this in class. then I wonder why do i fail physics...

I hurriedly opened the door of the big building and went room by room handing out the drinks to the dancers. Working in a cafeteria might be easier if my boss hadn't insisted on taking take-out orders.

I quickly entered the last room to finish my day's work, when someone bumped into me, knocking over the coffee cups I was holding. I cursed inwardly, was nothing going well?

"Are you okay?" I asked, worried.

"Ye-yes, don't worry" He said seeing how his clothes were stained with coffee. The person turned out to be a guy who looked about my age, though a bit taller.

After that, he took off his sweatshirt and left it on a bench, then left without another word. I was stunned. Is it the new fashion to leave your clothes lying around? In the end I let it go, although I took his sweatshirt to wash it at home, I would find a time to give it back to him.

...............

"I don't know how you think of these things, Eunji," I said as I closed the door to my flat.

"You won't regret it. I have an eye for these things" She said, winking at me.

Double dates. If single dates weren't good enough for me, imagine if, apart from my date, there were two other people. I didn't even want to think about it.

We arrived at the establishment five minutes before the agreed time, so we preferred to wait for the guys outside.

"Eunji!!!" The shout of a male voice was heard from across the road, and we both lifted our heads from our mobiles.

"Seeun, how are you?" Greeted my friend to who was probably her date "This is Yn, the girl I told you about"

Well, it wasn't her date.

"Hi, nice to meet you" He said with a handshake.

"Nice to meet you too" I replied with a smile, until I saw Eunji's real date.

Indeed, it was that boy.

Although I was surprised, I didn't say anything, as it might make him uncomfortable.

Anyways, the dinner went pretty well. We all talked a lot, except him. I guessed he would be shy. Quite the opposite of Seeun, who talked his head off. I liked him well enough.

On the way out, I debated whether to go talk to the guy from the other day or not, but decided to go for it.

"Ummm..." I whispered with a touch on his arm, which made him startle " Do you remember me?"

"Sorry, can you speak a little louder?" He asked a little chagrined.

"Ah, yes" I said, raising my tone "I don't know if you remember me, but I'm the girl from the other day, the one from the coffee" He nodded, looking quickly into my eyes "Your sweatshirt is in my flat.... When can I give it to you?"

"Ehh..." He thought "I'm going to be at the dance studio tomorrow, if you want you can leave it there".

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow" I said goodbye with a smile, and he waved his hand. "Cute" I thought.

The walk home was silent, I couldn't get the image of the boy out of my head.

"Soooo" Eunji snapped me out of my thoughts "What do you think of Seeun?"

"He's very nice, if a little too outgoing for my taste.I think he suits you more" I said, elbowing her.

"Well, I like Junghoon very much" She said with a smile "Although he's a bit difficult to talk to.... But that's okay".

"Is it because he's shy?" I asked "You know, I bumped into him the other day and that's why I was talking to him just now".

"No way! He's not the guy you threw the coffee at?" She exclaimed.

"That's the one. But I didn't throw it at him, I tripped and spilled it" I said, excusing myself.

And before we knew it, we were home.

"Well, I'll talk to you tomorrow" Eunji said "Goodnight!"

"See you tomorrow" Although for me it wasn't too good, because I spent the whole night thinking about that shy boy.

..........

The next day I went first thing in the morning to the place I had agreed with the boy to leave his sweatshirt.

When I went in, I asked which room Junghoon was in, and then I went to this one.

When I knocked on the door and got no answer, I went in myself, finding the dark-haired boy training. He looked like a totally different person. His expression was one of complete concentration and confidence, unlike the day before. That surprised me.

"Yn" Whispered Junghoon, who hadn't seen me yet.

"Good morning" I said, with a higher tone of voice than usual "Here's your sweatshirt".

"Thank you" He grabbed the bag the garment was in.

"I think it's going to smell really strong on you, I used my mum's detergent instead of mine..." I apologized.

"It's okay!" He exclaimed, before sniffing the sweatshirt and wrinkling his nose. I let out a laugh.

"By the way, you dance really well" I praised him "You looked like a whole other person, it was amazing!"

His cheeks took on a slight pink colour. "Thank you so much" He said with a small smile. "Cute" I thought, again.

"Someday you can teach me" I suggested.

"I don't have anything to do today, if you want you can stay" Though he quickly seemed to regret proposing that.

"Really?" I asked, wildly smiling "But I don't have any sports clothes on..."

"I can let you borrow mine" He proposed "I don't think it would be too big for you, we're about the same height, you're very tall..."

"Yeah, I get that a lot" I laughed.

Yes, the clothes fit me almost perfectly.

And so, with laughter, we spent the whole morning. Junghoon was really different when it came to dancing.

"I think I should go, it's late" I said looking at the clock on the wall "Where should I leave your clothes?"

"You can take it with you" He pointed at me "We are all supposed to meet tomorrow" He reminded referring to Eunji and Seeun "You can give it to me there".

"Looks like I'm going to be keeping your clothes every day" I said, making Junghoon chuckle under his breath. For the first time I realised how cute his laugh is. Soft, subtle. I should make him laugh more.

"Shall I join you?" His usual shyness took over his body again "If you want."

"Sure!" And the two of us walked out to the front door, where we were met by a boy who seemed to know Junghoon.

"What's up, Junghoon?" He asked.

"Hey!" The boy looked at me, confused "It's Yn, a friend" 'Friend'.didn't sound good when he said it.

"Hi, I'm Minjae" He said "What are you doing here?

"This morning I came to give something to Junghoon and I ended up staying" I replied, a little embarrassed "I'm going home now. See you tomorrow, Hoon" I said goodbye with a light squeeze on the shoulder and headed back to my destination, leaving a blushing Junghoon on the way.

..........

The next day the four of us met again, this time for a walk and to do some shopping.

I handed Junghoon his trousers and T-shirt and we talked while Seeun and Eunji didn't arrive. The two of us had a great time together.

All along the walk we both gave each other glances from time to time, making us giggle.

And it went on like that for a couple of months, until we decided to meet separately. It was raining heavily that day and Seeun and I agreed to go to a shopping centre.

I was quite distracted looking for a present for Junghoon, as his birthday was coming up soon and I wanted to get him something. To tell you the truth, the last few days all I could think about was him.

"Yn" Seeun called out to her "You like my friend, don't you?" I was startled by the sudden question, but there was no hint of annoyance in the boy's voice, which surprised me.

"Yes..." I affirmed, looking him in the eyes. The truth was that I didn't dislike Seeun at all, in fact, I was very fond of him and I didn't want to lose him as my best friend "Seeun, I..."

"Don't worry" He interrupted me "It's alright, I already knew that. I've known Junghoon for a long time and I'm sure he likes you too. He keeps talking about you these days, you know?"

"But, you..."

"I didn't ask you about me, Yn" He said with a sincere smile "Well, I guess you have some unfinished business, don't you?" He gave me his umbrella along with a push "Get that boy!"

I ran off towards the cafeteria where Eunji and Junghoon were supposed to be, but no one was there. My last resort was to go to the dance academy, and that's where I found him, sheltering from the rain.

"Jungh..."

"I like you!" he shouted "I like you a lot, Yn!" I could tell he was on the verge of tears...Or was it the rain? Well, whatever.

"Junghoon..."

"Date me, please. I'll teach you all the dances you want, I'll take you to many places, I'll let you wear all the clothes you want, I'll make you v..."

Before I could finish, Junghoon was interrupted by my wet lips. I quickly placed my hand behind the back of his neck. He froze for a few seconds, then brought his hands to my cheeks and cupped my face. The kiss was slow and inexperienced, as neither of us had ever kissed before. Breaking away to breathe, the boy lowered his head, but I grabbed his chin and made him look at me.

"I like you too" I confessed with flushed cheeks "I do want to go out with you".

Suddenly, a clapping started to be heard. Startled, we both broke apart to see the silhouette of a boy.

Minjae had seen the whole thing and was ready to tease us both for the rest of our lives.

#xikers #xikerries #xikers drabbles #xikers fanfic #xikers imagines #jeong yujun #xikers fluff #xikers hunter #xikers jinsik #xikers yechan #xikers yujun #xikers junghoon #xikers junmin #xikers sumin #xikers seeun

101 notes · View notes

lunaekalenda · 3 years ago

Note

Any spare head-canons or scenarios for a needy Ren? 🥺🤲 Like maybe him waiting for you to come home from work dressed in nothing but your shirt and clinging to your pillows because it smells like you? Desperately rutting his hips into your bedsheets because your scent is everywhere and he just found your laundry? Whining out his Angel’s name over and over again because he needs them so bad? I’m down horrendous for him and its honestly embarrassing XD

of course, of course! thanks for asking and sorry for the wait! i'm also down bad don't worry it's normal

nsfw under the line · obsession, stalking, possessiveness, yandere behavior · be aware.

· there isn't a moment he hates more than when you have to leave the nice apartment he got when you both started dating. even when he keeps his old apartment, and you didn't care to sleep on it, as little as it was, probably because Ren has something on that flat you shouldn't see. And also, from where will he spy you whenever you go back home?

· If the case is you leaving to sleep at home and clean the apartment you're still paying and in which you pass some nights, with Ren or without him, it's easy. He still has all those little hidden cams and, with a quick walk to his old flat, he can have you again in front of the cam, changing clothes, after showering, and his favorite: missing him.

· If you're leaving for work, that's a whole new world. He doesn't have cams at your workplace -yet- and still, he finds new and creative ways to keep you clear-cut on his mind. First, he has all the audiovisual content he has been collecting since he discovered your apartment number. Pics, videos and audios from the most diverse types and only one purpose: make him hard.

· If he had to rank all the things he has from you, he would definitely put first your first time together. Just hearing you moan his name while his fingers tickle with the memory of you clenching around them makes his eyes shine with lust and his voice break with desire.

· In any ways, it's also common to find him wearing your clothes, specially, your t-shirts. Some of them are too loose for him, some too little, but he still hugs them and takes them to his nose with his eyes closed, imagining you're already there, with him, and not in that stupid work where he has no way to enter.

· He doesn't know how many co-workers you have, how many of them are attractive, how many of them flirt with you. Maybe some are too touchy and maybe some too flirty, but it isn't anything that can't be fixed. Just tell him, and he'll be more than glad to make those hands useless and cut those tongues off so his angel won't get those problems at work anymore and, hopefully, with an example, everyone in the department, no, in the whole company, will learn what happens when you try to touch his angel.

· But, in anyway, he spends most of the time admiring your pics together, remembering the date you had last week or admiring and kissing the ring you bought each other after a couple months together.

· The first hours are pretty easy: he watches a couple videos, probably touches himself to them, cleans the mess he leaves after and daydreams about you and him, and the perfect future both of you are gonna have if you stay by his side, because there isn't anything he wants to avoid more than killing you. Don't obligate him, angel, it's really easy. Why wouldn't you stay with someone who loves you this deep?

· If you're late, he stalks your social apps profiles and also your GPS location - it's not his fault that you sleep leaving the mobile phone so accesible and with a bunch of easy passwords.- He isn't more than a worried boyfriend. Why are you late? Maybe something happened to you... Maybe you're with someone while he waits for you at home.

· Other times, he makes chores. He helps with everything he can, and you can't agree more on how lucky you are for having such an attentive and helper boyfriend by your side. He insists on doing the laundry almost every day, even when you have warned him a couple times because some of your panties - specially, thongs. - have been missing for a while. Ren promises always to search them harder, thinking the washing machine might probably have a hole that makes your panties and only your panties disappear.

· Even when he washes his own underwear, socks and bras, you don't find suspicious that the only things missing are your panties. Ren likes to keep anything that strongly smells like you, usually, with kinky purposes: Likes to touch himself with your t-shirts on, to put them between his teeth to get the scent closer; to improvise a flesh-light with your pillow, the one you use for your pretty face, and your bedsheets, that still keep the smell of your gel; to wrap your underwear around his cock and to use it for his own pleasure. There are little things he enjoys, solo fun with you in mind.

· Already at night, your absence is unbearable for him. He calls you at the exact hour your turn finishes and sends you messages to know he should go and pick you up. Gets happy as a puppy whenever you text him a selfie for his private collection with the caption "I'm way home!"; but also get irremediably sad whenever you delay because of extra work. Sometimes, that sadness just makes him wait for you on the couch, pouting as your name escapes from his mouth.

· Other times, it makes him a little angry, but nothing that will transcend after putting you against the first surface he finds and remembering you that there's a boyfriend who loves his angel very much and waits for their return everyday to find them being late. Making him wait. But no worry at all, angel. Starting tomorrow, you'll probably keep a mic and a cam on so he can make sure you're being productive and not leaving him, alright?

222 notes · View notes

woodlandwildfolk · 3 years ago

Text

So like imagine if the trouble trio introduce the tfp 'bots to tiktok and ask them to participate in a challenge or something.

Ratchet

"absolutely not"

Miko won't stop nagging him and follows him around the base and won't let up

Wheeljack is having too much fun but tells Jack to intervene before ratchet blows a fuse

Raf instead finds some challenges that might interest ratchet, stuff that involves chemistry and that

Just like that time with the science project, he proceeds to point out all the things that people do wrong and Miko opposes him to rile him up

He takes the bait

Optimus has to stop them when wheeljack starts building a "harmless bomb that can't hurt anyone"

but in the end all who participated had fun- ratchet will offline before he admits it tho but he did

jack caught him smiling while organizing stuff in one of the storage units but he won't mention it for his sake

Arcee

A feral miko approached her followed by a panting jack

"why don't I like the sound of this?"

Miko had to assure her it's fine and that they won't post anything so the 'bots won't get exposed

She showed her some of the mobility challenges and stuff with.. Say parkour and flips and that

She was reluctant at first but gave in when Miko provoked her saying she couldn't do it anyway

And cee was feeling particularly competitive when smokescreen joined in halfway

Which made her do a flip with a bit too much strength and illicit an "I needed that!"

Regardless of the collateral damage Arcee felt refreshed from hanging out with the kids (smokescreen included in "the kids" he's my baby)

Bulkhead

He was off-roading with miko when she brought up the idea

"film a what??"

She explained and he agreed under the condition he won't do anything that requires grace

miko agreed but said they're gonna work on that self confidence when they get back to base

she decides on doing a strength based challenged and points to a group of boulders of different sizes

she starts the vid with only her in the frame and lifting a big rock with one hand then it cuts to her lifting a bigger one with Both her hands and then it cuts to her sitting a Boulder and it starts to rise from the ground and before it gets too high she jumps off and turns the camera around showing bulk lifting the Boulder above his head with one servo

hes very pleased with the results and shows it to the others when they get back

and they do have that talk about bulks view of himself

optimus

jack: hey optimus, wanna film a tiktok?

Optimus: ..no.

Ratchet: primes don't do that either

{I take requests if anyone wants, And remember reblogs help creators more than likes <3}

161 notes · View notes

yourtouchismidas · 2 years ago

Note

would love a blurb about matty (and the boys) setting up the nursery, if that's okay!

It's chaos. At first anyway. George and Charli are messing around in Matty's room, squealing with laughter (Charli) and taking the piss out of everything in there (George.) Ross is in his own world scrolling on his phone and doesn't get out of Matty's way when he's moving a box, and after Matty says "Move please. Hello! Ross!" a few times to no reaction, Ross earns himself a slap around the head which makes him moody for the next ten minutes saying he aint gonna help now, they can do it without him. Adam is in the kitchen fighting with the coffee machine, and yelling through to Carly like "I've done everything right, I don't understand why it won't work."

Matty is standing in the middle of the chaos, holding up the Ikea flat pack cot by himself and looking around in disbelief.

"ERM!" He yells, "Can I have everyone's attention please!"

They all listen except George and Charli who don't hear and have to be yelled at again before they slink out of Matty's room, lips pressed together like they're in school and laughing in lessons.

"This is serious business people!" Matty says. "For my daughter, the love of my life..."

Everything is a performance with him. A drama. He can't help it. But he loves it and he loves his friends and making everything fun.

"The apple of my eye. The heir to my throne. So can we please fucking concentrate you utter utter children."

Obviously it takes another ten minutes to get going as Adam finally gets to grips with making coffee and then they all have to drink it. But then they're off. Ross and George are told to lift shit, move guitars and the desk and the books from the office. When they're done, and stacking it elsewhere, Adam builds the cot, making surprisingly easy work of it given that it took him twenty minutes to figure out making coffee. The women frame the pictures, and Carly holds them up against the wall while Charli makes squares with her fingers and goes "Left slightly, up, nope, you've gone too far now, back down." Once the cot is up Carly puts the blanket on and lays the hat down. She touches it briefly. Gently. In disbelief that Matty, Matty of all people, was next to do this out of all of them.

Matty himself is everywhere, darting around, barking instructions like some sort of dictator. "No not there!" he yells. And "She needs the mobile to be more central or she's gonna get dizzy." And he does his fair share of messing around himself, like putting baby socks on Ross' huge thumb and using Adam's head as a coaster while he is knelt on the floor.

There is a moment in the chaos of it all. When everyone is building and laughing and folding stuff, where he stops, looks around, breathes. He smiles to himself. This is his family. And he is bringing another member in, two if he is lucky, if he gets this right. But his child, his daughter. She will be someone who will be loved, deeply and to the ends of the earth by everyone in the flat. He can't wait for her to feel that. To be raised by them. By them all. To be so so loved. He feels it himself, right then, right there, in the chaos, in the loudness, a moment of quiet and of warmth, of just pure love.

He is broken out of it by Carly asking him a question about blankets. But the feeling remains. It's in the room with them. It's with all of them always. And it will be with her always too. When she finally arrives.

#ruins #ruins behind the scenes

44 notes · View notes

penumbraphantasm · 2 years ago

Text

big old wordy post for anyone wanting to get into the layton series and support it in a slightly more legal manner loool

first off, the Original Trilogy. probably the easiest option is purchasing the first 3 games on mobile. yes, these are the full games that debuted on the DS but in HD with BONUS content.

oh hey katrielle and alfendi. i guess mystery journey and mystery room are there too but i'll get back to those.

anyways, the layton series comes in different parts with some spinoffs. the first three as seen are Curious Village, Diabolical Box and Unwound Future. these are first in order of Release. so you can't go wrong starting here.

the next three that came after are the Prequel trilogy: Last Specter, Miracle Mask and Azran Legacy. this means even though they were released later, they take place before Curious Village chronologically. so maybe you want to make LS a starting point if you like that sort of order? LS was the last layton game for the DS while MM and AL were for the 3DS. this is where it gets difficult.

currently, Last Specter has no other port. if you search on something like ebay, you will see a clear price difference compared to listings for the original DS trilogy. and with renewed interest in the series, the amount of ppl looking for copies has probably grown too. so i don't recommend joining the fight unless you really love layton and physical media lol. i still probably RecOMmend finding another way to play it.

also my fav part of Last Specter is London Life!! a game within a game where you can create an avatar, dress up, decorate your room, get a job, fish, meet characters from the past 3 games (and a couple from Eternal Diva!) HOWEVER, London Life is only available in versions for Japan, US and Australia. if you have a European copy, you won't see it... so keep this in mind...

but before you get to the 3DS titles, you should watch the movie i mentioned earlier. what, a movie? YES! Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva! released in 2009 and takes place between Last Specter and Miracle Mask. it's animated in the game's style and comes with subs and dubs. you can easily look it up on youtube.

okay now you can move on to 3DS. Miracle Mask and Azran Legacy are available digitally in 3DS eshop but that is CLOSING MARCH 27 2023. physical copies are also expensive to acquire. they currently do not have mobile ports either.

there's another 3DS title available as well and it's a wild one. Professor Layton Vs Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney! a crossover spinoff where you get to enjoy the gameplay of both series and the work done here would later influence some stuff they did in The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles so you can check that out too. but i rec this title if you are already a fan of PL and AA so you can get the most out of the experience. if you hope to get this physically, be aware it's an extremely expensive hassle. otherwise, just grab it from the 3DS eshop for $29.99 before it closes or brew up another method at home.

okay okay but what about Mystery Journey? well, the protagonist this time is Prof Layton's daughter Katrielle! her game's available on 3DS and mobile (with free demo) and there are extra purchases if you want more goodies. but you may want to consider the switch version instead. it comes with all DLC unlocked, extra outfits and nicer graphics. it also has some new and improved puzzles. why is that? well, some of the puzzles in the original release weren't popular. if you try out the mobile demo, you may notice a totally different vibe with the puzzles. well, why is That? sadly, the original puzzle master for the layton games passed away in 2016. Mystery Journey is a more divisive title so maybe don't make this your first layton adventure.

BUT WAIT! there's also a Mystery Journey anime you can watch! Layton Mystery Tanteisha: Katori no Nazotoki File! it goes through the events from Mystery Journey and MORE! yes, the story goes BEYOND the game!! it's only available in japanese though (but there are subs lol)

HOLD IT! there's one more mobile game to talk about. Layton Brothers: Mystery Room! this time, you follow Lucy Baker, a fresh detective constable assigned to assist Inspector Alfendi Layton, son of Prof Layton. this game is less about puzzles and more about investigation and interrogation. it's a freemium game, which means the prologue and first 2 cases are free. the rest of the cases are in-app purchases.

if you've already played all these games, well congrats! now we just sit here and wait for New World of Steam

(and keep praying for Mansion of the Deathly Mirror lol)

#capchat #prof layton #long post

48 notes · View notes

lo-sulci · 2 years ago

Text

just finished getting thru the gundam 0079 arc with all the amphibious mobile suits, so now i'm gonna comment on zeon mobile suit designs because why not im bored

zaku

the very first one! definitely has some cool elements- the torso design makes me think of, like, ancient roman battle armor, specifically the, like, armor skirts that i just now learned googling are called pteruges. anyways, it's neat, but also, it's hard to say that it's not overshadowed somewhat by some of the ones that follow it, which is okay!! it serves its function well

gouf

this is no zaku!! the blue is a fun color, and the electric whip is a pretty cool weapon. as much as it is no zaku, it does follow the same kind of design path as one, and really does just kinda end up being, like, "zaku but slightly more." name kicks ass tho, love da goof

dom

speaking of names lmao. i kinda really like the dom, tbh? admittedly, part of that is personal bias- purple is my favorite color, so a purple MS is cool to me. but also, i really love the camera set-up here! it almost looks like this single red eye in this dark cloak hood or smth, it brings to mind imagery of, like, fantasy assassins to me. how they move is also pretty neat, i like watching them glide around and stuff. dunno what the little badge thing is about, but i'll pretend it's a little award for having a cool design :)

gogg

our first amphibious MS!! like the zaku, it's the kind of basic one that subsequent ones iterate on. that said, look at those claws!! in general this is such a chunky MS, it's great. i also like the little thrusters/propellers it has on the bottom of its feet, those made me laugh the first time i saw them. does anyone else feel like it looks like its wearing, like, a wrestling championship belt or smth??

z'gok

HELL YEAH!!!! genuinely love the z'gok. first: phenomenal color scheme, imo. the periwinkle and dark teal works *so* well, i could not be happier with how that looks and fuck char for painting it all red. aside from that, there's something so pleasing to me about the general way it's shaped. the proportions work surprisingly well for smth that is really close to being a torso with no head. and, speaking of the head: I love the little torpedo launchers on top! idk, I can't tell you exactly why, I just think the z'gok kicks ass, and is one of my favorite MS designs so far

zock

THE MAN THE MYTH THE LEGEND!!!!!!!!!!! the zock looks so ridiculous in the best possible way, I'm utterly obsessed. almost looks like it was designed to be a mobile armor like the bigro or smth, but then was changed to be a MS instead at the last minute. i dont care at all tho, bc it is just. perfection. look at that camera set up!!!! why is it a star!!!! it's so impractical it kicks so much ass!!!! and my god, the SHAPE on this lad!! and those claws!!!! and just, everything!!!! perfection has a name and it is zock

acguy

acguy is. a lot. he head too big for he gotdamn body!! it's a bit disappointing to go back to a gogg-adjacent color scheme, i won't lie. also anything coming right after the zock was bound to be a bit disappointing because, like, what could compare? that said! the crab-like head is cool, and i like the range of motion the camera has. also, the retractable fingers are incredible, and seeing these things spider-maning around in a cave was hilarious. more than any other MS, the acguy is just, like, a sopping wet beast to me

bonus that i haven't seen in action but saw a picture of: juaggu

what the sneef? i'm snorfin here!!

#gundam #odds are decent that i just make a post like this talking about MS designs every once in a while so like. sorry in advance maybe

12 notes · View notes

heyseihai · 2 years ago

Text

Erika and Leif conversation (daemon route)

First part you can read here,

L: I know that mobilizing your powers can make you feel that sensation.

L: You could think that aengels are sending their power to you. But I still believe it's not the case.

L: I don't know exactly why we have this impression that our power is something external to us. I get it that may be pleasant the feeling of being... supported, in some way.

E: Yeah... when I use my powers it's like aengels are by my side. As if they guided me, somehow (we're wasting maana again with the "two different ways of saying the same thing", dammit)

E: Maybe because my powers have frequently manifested on their own. As if they came to help me when I need, without my need to ask.

L: However, it weren't the aengels that helped me to retrieve my powers.

L: It was only Koori, when she helped me remember the aengel I once was. (oh, is that so? But remember IT WAS MY IDEA, OKAY? Leiftan isn't helping me have any sympathies for this character)

E: (I'm still kinda sad for not being invited for their meditation sessions, but I keep curious to know how things are going)

E: Speaking of which, how the sessions are doing? She said you've progressed…

L: Yes, she really helped me a lot. It was thanks to her that I've managed to evoke my aengel powers again.

E: (I shook my head. That's good, that's good…)

L: Listen… I'm sorry for not allowing you to participate… (yeah I know how sorry you are, thanks alooot)

E: Nah, no, no problem. I totally understand.

L: I don't want to give you a lecture, but…

E: (I frowned, he was about to lecture me)

L: You've been using the daemon powers too much…

E: Are you talking about the moments when I saved our lives, and Yaqut? When I convinced Orgelz to listen to us instead of attacking us? Or when I knocked the rookh that would kill Nevra down?

E: (Leiftan sighed. I felt he was sincerely embarassed.)

L: Yes. These moments. I'm not telling you you're wrong to use them, but these powers are dangerous. I know it better than anyone.

E: More dangerous than twenty-four vampires? A dozen of rookhs?

L: It's… diferent. Listen, you know I want what it's best for you*.

E: (Ofc I know. I feel it)

L: I fear for you. I fear these powers take over you.

E: (It was true, more than once, he was being totally sincere. I felt his fear)

E: Don't worry, Leiftan. I control them. I hadn't cut ties with the light of the aengels. Look.

E: (A light shows up around my hand. the sparks cracked around my fingers, as usual. Could it be that they were more opaque than before? No doubt, it was because of the darkness in the room… The light disappeared when I closed my hand.)

E: See? You're worrying too much.

L: I can't stop you from using it, anyway. But it seems it's already become a reflex to you. If I were you, I would try to work on it, before it's too late.

E: Perhaps because we're frequently attacked. If it weren't for my powers, we would be dead. I didn't want to use them, either. I don't like to attack companions, nor humans. I have no choice. Everybody's survival is at stake and I know I will have to use them again.

E: The vampires, the rookhs were piece of cake compared to what awaits us. The Templars will attack us again, and they won't fall back. We can't bring ourselves to avoid using such power and I refuse to let everything that happened before, happen again. And if I need to neutralize all of them, I will, whatever the means. If its the only way to protect the faerys, I will use this dark energy until they're safe.

E: (Leiftan blocked his emotions. I don't like it.)

L: Got it. I can't blame you…

L: I need to get up, I need to talk to HH.

E: About what? You want warn her about me?

L: What? No, of course not! She asked me to see her, that's all.

L: With the Guard Leaders, she wanted to talk about the following strategy...

E: and my presence is not desired in this case either?

L: She might have thought you would be busy with your duties of Sister for a day.

E: I didn't answer. He got up and kissed me quickly before dressing up and leave.

#eldarya #eldarya spoilers #eldarya leiftan

14 notes · View notes

tu-sugar-mami · 3 years ago

Text

Tales of the side of the road #5: Spill the tea.

(you can read part 4 here)

As always, sorry for long post, Tumblr mobile won't let me cut it.

_______

It had been a cold and rainy day, you remember. Your companion’s face is blurry in your memory after all the time that has passed, not that you care anymore. You were driving, both of you laughing at a joke they said…

Your eyes clench as the memory comes back. It takes a few moments before you can focus again.

“Care to explain? What, in Mother Miranda’s name, are you?” Was the question that stirred the many emotions, many feelings that you had been trying to bury under dark humor and many shots of espresso.

What made you what you are today? How did you end up in this godforsaken place? It’s always hard for you to relive the story, so you just settle for giving a short explanation after a long sigh.

“I’m just a simple barista, tired but with a whole lotta attitude.” Your fake smile is fooling no one. Your unique eyes turn to the side, unable to face the ladies sitting in front of you.

“Girl, you just fought a slimy toothy bastard with nothing but a chair. I wouldn’t address that as being a ‘simple barista’.” Angie, who has pulled closer her milkshake and started to take out the tiny M&M’s one by one and putting them on Donna’s cup saucer, says. “You weren’t even fazed.”

“Well yeah,” You frown, genuinely confused. “Here at Itsy Bitchy Spider we value our customers and it’s our politic to offer the best accommodations for any kind of person, being or entity that crosses the entrances.” You say the practiced dialog nonchalantly as if it was the most normal thing ever. Well, it was normal for you anyway. “That means any kind of customer is welcomed here, unless they pose a threat for other guests that is.”

“Well that explains where you got the big chair for Alcina.” You’re delighted to find that Angie gave her drink’s tiny chocolates to Donna, if the treat disappearing from the saucer is any indication.

“I guess that is correct. Though, if you let me say this, my Lady is fairly small compared to other customers I’ve served before, so getting her specific accommodations is no problem at all.”

Said Lady scoffs at your answer.

“You don’t have to play the polite little girl, child.” You get a feeling she wants to say more but she stops herself. You suspect that it has to do with the self-deprecation and insecurities that her size has given her.

“I’m not.” You stare directly into Alcina’s eyes with confidence and in hopes to let her know that what you say it’s true. It doesn’t work and no one says a words for a few moments.

“Anyway,” Sensing the awkward silence, Bela intervenes. “that customer was not a threat for any of us, I assure you. We could have easily taken care of it.” Bela says just before taking a sip of her drink. Her eyes widen at the taste and looks at your direction, pointing at her cup. “Does this have caramel in it?”

“It tastes more like vanilla to me…”Cassie stirs her drink absentmindedly, probably not realizing the small smile on her face.

You offer a grin instead, noticing that all of their crepes are mostly eaten.

“Actually, it has both caramel and vanilla essence. Also, please do not refer to Reginald as ‘it’, he’s not very fond of that.”

“And you know him!” The cup resting in Daniela’s hands is half empty by now.

“How do you know this Reginald anyway?” You’re sure that if it was possible, Alcina’s eyes would have already drilled a hole in your face, what with that intense gaze of hers. The grip on her cup is stiff, and if you pay attention you might find out she’s struggling to not down the whole drink at once just like last time.

“Why, he’s a regular around here. A bit ominous but a great customer nonetheless.”

The bell on the counter rings, followed by three taps on the wood. You internally groan. You know too well who is the only annoying person around here that does that every single time.

“Hello! Can I get some service around here? I want to order!” There he is, the most loud and weirdly thin man you’ve ever had the disgrace to meet and serve.

Your face morphs into a ‘Eiddelte give me patience because if you give me strength I’ll send him to you’ look before standing, mumbling a low excuse me and stiffly making your way to your rightful place behind the counter.

“Oh, there you are, sugar.” He winks at you. “Is our beloved Goddess among us today?”

You offer a tight smile.

“Hello, Gary. Sadly Eiddelte isn’t with us today. Can I offer you anything?”

His smile becomes impossibly wider and you grimace. You know what it means and you can already feel a headache forming. “Actually yes, gracious of you to ask!” He slides a small piece of paper towards you. The ink is marred and the handwriting is hard to read but as soon as you put it back on the counter his smile disappear. He checks you out once again just like he does every time and his expression turns to a grossed out frown. “And hurry up this time, idiot, you don’t want to make me wait again.”

‘If you don’t like me then why do you keep coming back?’ Is what you want to say, but you knowing perfectly well why.

You roll your eyes and start making the obnoxious order. Damn that contract! But you just need to wait for him to actually give the first punch so you can retaliate. No other follower of Eiddelte’s cult is as difficult as this guy, in fact, you’re friends with most of them.

Gary takes a quick glance behind his shoulder and notices the visitors at the table staring at him before turning back to you and leaning on the counter. “Say darling, am I smelling crepes, by any chance?” In a blink his wide smile and friendly façade is back on.

“Indeed that’s what you smell, but uh… I’m afraid I just ran out of batter and the next shipment won’t arrive until next week.” You see his eye twitch at your lie and an idea forms in your mind. A little push to someone’s last bit of patience never hurt anyone, besides, you’re feeling petty today.

“Oh, Gary I’m so sorry!” Your hand accidentally knocks over the bottle of blue syrup all over the counter with such force that it splashes and stains Gary’s button up. “Looks like I won’t be able to complete your order! Sadly that was the last syrup and next shipment won’t arr—“

“Are you stupid!?” He reaches over the counter and grabs you by the collar of your shirt, just like Cassandra had done before. His face is turning red and you put your hands up in the air in a surrender motion. “Can’t you do anything without fucking it up?” You look him straight in the eye, a small unapologetic smirk forms on your lips. You want to see how far he’ll go.

A gloved hand yanks him by the shoulder in a swift motion. Gary looks taken aback but he lets go of your collar.

“That’s not very polite of you, sir.” Daniela says. Now it’s your turn to be shocked. All of the ladies are next to Gary. How? You didn’t even notice them standing, much less them making your way to you. But that’s not all, everyone including Angie have a murderous look in their eyes.

“Let go of me!” Gary yells as he pulls back forcefully, but Daniela’s grasp is just as strong and doesn’t let go of him. “I said let me go!” He tries again but the result is the same.

“Why should I do that?” Daniela’s voice is so cold that it sends shivers down your spine. It’s so shocking seeing her like this when all you had known of her is that excited kid personality she showed before. Such a clashing contrast but you find it lovely.

“As my daughter said, treating a lady like that is not very adequate.” Alcina takes a step forward, towering over the man. Gary flinches but doesn’t relent. Being a follower of a dark deity he has seen many kinds of things and doesn’t seem fazed by Lady Dimitrescu’s height at all, though it appears he doesn’t know the difference between bravery and stupidity.

“Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it?” He puffs his chest and smirks when the Lady’s eyes narrow. He might have thought her gaze held empty threats when in reality she was thinking of the best way to make him suffer. “Nothing! You’re doing nothing at all, little lady .”

The other two daughters surround him, coordinated as if they had done it many times before, though as you get to know them more that is probably the case.

Alcina’s nostrils flare at the mocking title, but she refuses to lose her composure in front of a bratty stupid man-thing, much less because of stupid nickname.

“Gary, that’s enough.” You start cleaning up the mess of the blue syrup with a cloth.

“You don’t get to speak to me with that tone , sugar .” He grabs your wrist forcefully and your fist clenches on the cleaning rag. “You might be Eiddelte´s vessel but doesn’t mean you’re anything more than a piece of trash.”

If looks could freeze, the North Pole would be small compared to him. He is the one who shouldn’t talk to you like that, especially after what he and the cult did to you. As if you had wished to be the vessel in the first place!

You want to say something just as harsh, but before you even open your mouth you hear a foreign voice, raspy with but clear and loud enough to be heard.

“ Stop it.”

Everyone’s eyes are on the delicate-looking hand grabbing Gary’s other arm. The black chipped nail polish contrasting with the pale skin.

Maybe is the display of silent power, or the fact that this is the first time you hear Lady Beneviento’s voice, or maybe that said voice holds such authority despite being so neutral, but you feel a blush cover your cheeks and your arms cover in goosebumps. She didn’t even raise her voice to be heard and already has the whole room’s attention.

“And who, pray tell, are you to order me around, huh?” Gary’s stupidity knows no limits and you’re now sure of that. “And what’s with the veil anyway?”

“Gary.” You growl out a warning that he pointedly ignores.

“What’s under this, huh?”

“Gary, that’s enough.”

You feel something in you snap as soon as he dares to try and lift Donna’s veil.

It takes you less than a second to jump over the counter (a big feat for someone of your height) and shove him back, making him fall on his butt.

“I said that’s enough!” You glare at him before turning to Donna and making sure her veil is still in place. “I’m so sorry about that, Lady Beneviento. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” You’re sure you can hear her heartbeat, but that is probably your imagination. At least that’s what you think, since you can’t see the shocked expression under the fabric, unless…

“My Goddess! We are forever blessed to have you join us in this lovely afternoon!”

“What the—” Gary is offering a reverence to you, his forehead touching the floor, and it takes you a moment to register the pain in your skin and the hammering pulse between your shoulder blades. “Eiddelte don’t you dare…” In a blink, you’re caged again, unable to move what with the chains keeping you in place. You honestly thought it’d take at least a few more days since the bratty goddess possessed your body again and forced you into the prison inside your mind.

Well, there’s nothing else to do but enjoy the show.

Your body stands prideful, bearing the black streaks on your skin resembling broken porcelain like a trophy. A strange but powerful aura surrounds it and gives the emerald green skin a bright, ethereal glow. There are white accents dusting your new persona like freckles here and there. Feet hovering above the ground, and with due reason, since a deity shouldn’t bother to touch unholy ground. Platinum, curly long hair moves with an inexistent breeze. All of it screams holy. All of it screams danger.

But you know there’s nothing more dangerous than to look into Eiddelte’s eyes. Those glossy, pitch black eyes with specks of white as if she harbored a starry night sky in them, can drive anyone to madness. Something so otherworldly that the human mind cannot comprehend it. Something as beautiful as much as it’s dangerous.

Those same eyes are looking down on Gary’s pathetic form on the floor. The deep voice coming from your throat is far away from the tranquil one you usually have. It always feels weird.

“Who has wronged you, child?”

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #donna beneviento c reader #donna beneviento #lady beneviento x reader #lady beneviento #re8 #my fic #tales of the side of the road

59 notes · View notes