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that-was-anticlimactic · 4 years ago

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reki with tourette’s headcanons

[ID: it’s reki from sk8 the infinity wearing a yellow sweatshirt with his hands on his hips. he’s wearing a red bracelet on his right wrist and he’s smiling. behind him is a touette’s syndrome awareness flag. end ID.]

so. @zukkaclawthorne got me hooked on reki with ts and now imma post headcanons i wrote oops

okay so first—that little skateboard he plays with??? stim toy, actually.

he likes the sound the wheels make—that whirrrrrr sound. it makes his arms flappy :)

he also finds the rolling motion soothing and relaxing and it always calms him down—it takes his mind to a happy place

he rocks back and forth and shakes his legs a lot. that also contributed to why he was terrible at skateboarding the first few times he tried—because his body would be like “time to rock back and forth!” and it would mess him up

neck twitches for days :)

no but for real—neck twitching is one of his worst tics because sometimes—if he’s in a bad mood or if he’s sad or anxious—it gets harsh and violent and really strains his neck.

so, langa gives him neck / upper back neck massages to help with the pain

he went through this phase for a couple of months where whenever his neck would twitch, he would snap his fingers two times.

he has a lot of hand tics which can be stressful when he makes skateboards because sometimes he’ll be in the groove and then suddenly he’ll mess something up

speaking of messing things up, he has a tendency to dig the bottom of his palm into his forehead whenever he feels like he does something stupid—he doesn’t even realize it until someone points it out.

he feels like even more of a failure of a skater because of his tics because they can hold him back and make the course more dangerous.

if his blinking tic resurfaces, sometimes the blinking gets so intense that he literally cannot see for anywhere between five seconds and a minute depending on how bad it is. that is how he got some of his worst scars.

or sometimes he’ll make a really aggressive hand motion and it throws him off balance on the skateboard due to the intensity

anyways back to hand tics: he points a lot and does symbols like the “rock on” sign or certain numbers (for some reason, the most common number for reki to throw up is four—though sometimes he throws up whatever number he hears) he also grunts a lot as a tic so he sounds angry even when he is’t.

sometimes, his hand tics really hurt and his hands become shaky and his fingers start to feel the way his heart feels when he’s anxious. langa helps in different ways—he holds reki’s hand, he gives him something to fidget with to try to distract him (sometimes it’s his own fingers—he’ll just set them in reki’s palm and be like “let me carry some of the pain”—no, reki didn’t totally cry when he said that what)

sometimes, reki sticks pencils in his ears. his teachers have been trying to stop it since he was young, but he always did it anyways—he couldn’t help it.

his hair is also long enough for him to chew on. yes, he chews on the tips of his hair because i say so. sometimes, to stop him from doing that (and from swallowing his own hair), langa will try to make him laugh so it falls out of his mouth and then he’ll scoot close and tuck the hair behind reki’s ears… once they start dating, he kisses him too. but also that’s one reason why he wears the headband—to try to keep his hair out of his face so he doesn’t chew on it.

reki’s favorite form of stimming (other than his skateboard toy, that is) is stress balls. he’s got a couple of stress balls in his room or backpack—even one with string attached so he can carry it around his wrist. he just really likes the texture of them.

after his second race against adam, cherry and joe were so proud of him and also impressed and worried dads that they bought reki a big stress ball, like, the size of a stuffed animal. it was a blue cat. he uses it all the time.

speaking of fricking adam, we all know he would so use reki’s tics against him during a race. like, when he grabbed his wrist and “danced” with him, he would mock reki’s tics or say creepy things about how his verbal tics are music and his motor tics are him dancing along and it makes him so uncomfortable and like even more shaken

oh and adam purposely does things to trigger his tics, like when i mentioned that number tic??? yeah, adam will purposefully say numbers to make reki do the hand gestures

one time, reki wanted to tell langa that he loved him but got nervous so he signed it in sign language instead. but, since reki’s tics are occasionally hand gestures, langa thought that it was just a tic and mentally was like “i wish that was for me…” and reki is like “i wish he knew it was real…” and joe, cherry, shadow, and miya are all facepalming and groaning at their obliviousness

reki prefers taking hand written notes to electronic notes because he draws / doodles to stim and he can’t really doodle well on a laptop. so, he’ll doodle in class all of the time

sometimes, his pictures / notes turn out pretty bad / illegible depending on how bad his tics are, but that doesn’t phase reki. it used to when he was younger, but it doesn’t bother him at all anymore. in fact, he thinks it adds personality

during class, he’ll draw pictures for langa and slid them on his desk. they’re usually really random things like the teacher or the back of someone’s head or squiggly lines or whatever he sees outside. more often than not, it’s abstract art. langa loves these drawings and he keeps them all on his desk in his room.

reki also started drawing pictures for the rest of the sk8 crew and gives it to them during races. when he gave everyone their first doodle, he was like “i’m not the best artist ever and sometimes my tics mess up the doodle, but i thought of you while i drew it so i want you to have it”

(shadow didn’t shed a couple of unwilling dad tears when he got home that night what)

anyways, they all keep them. every single one. miya puts them in their school binder so they don’t feel as alone / isolated at school.

although shadow and miya give reki a lot of crap / teasing about not being as good as everyone else, the second they hear anyone comment about “the weird red head that makes noises” and comments on his ts in a negative way, oh, they will stop you.

sometimes, reki whispers words he hears under his breath as a tic (echolalia, baby~) and when he overhears people saying stuff about “that redhead that always follows snow around” or about him not being good enough or how he’s an idiot to face adam, he ends up muttering that too. and it’s not a one and done kind of thing—like. he does it for days. it makes him so upset (and i already hc him, with depression so it just makes it worse)

having tics while having injuries is not a good combination—especially if it’s with a broken arm. the crew made sure to keep an eye of reki’s comfort / pain level after adam broke his arm and literally tried to kill him in their final race. joe let reki squeeze his hand whenever he felt the urge to tic and cherry would ask him how much pain he was in after he ticced and depending on how bad it would be, would make joe or shadow fetch a heating pad or an icepack for reki.

joe also taught reki about the magical thing called physical therapy tape and helped him put it on his shoulders, neck, and back one time. it was his idea to use the tape on reki’s fingers when he was injured to make him feel better (because it literally makes my fingers feel better)

also langa kisses each of reki’s fingers and knuckles, slowly and tenderly, soft so he doesn’t hurt him or trigger a tic. a way of showing that he loves him not despite his tics, but even with his tics and that he loves him and his tics.

cherry isn’t always the best at showing he cares, so he’ll wear a ts ribbon sometimes in a way to show support (and it makes reki beam)

shadow once gave reki a flower shaped stress ball because there were “extra at work” (not true—he went looking for one)

miya didn’t really know much about ts at first and asked why reki made those noises and made weird movements all the time and langa explained so then that night when miya got home, they did research on ts so they could understand it better. later, they told reki that whenever they called him a slime, they meant it purely about skateboarding and it had nothing to do with his tics—even that his tics didn’t make him less of a skater

all his life, reki had been the different one: the one no one wanted on the team because sometimes his tics messed him up, the one who was asked to leave classes during tests because his tics were too distracting and made him take the test in the hall, when sometimes he’d get too overwhelmed by how close people were in the halls or at races and would have panic attacks, how he rocked in his chair and adjusted his position seventeen times an hour and sat on his feet while the other kids didn’t, how he shook his legs more aggressively than others, how he couldn’t skate as well as everyone else because of his tics and because he wasn’t good enough

which is probably part of the depression that weighs on his shoulders

the first time reki had a panic attack during a race due to closeness and overstimulating noises (and this is the first one after the sk8 crew happened) langa was racing and wasn’t there to help, so shadow kind of panicked and like picked him up under the armpits and carried him away from the crowd since reki could barely process anything other than panic and the sound and feeling of static and they sat in shadow’s car for the rest of the race and once he felt better, he gave shadow a huge hug and shadow returned it.

one time it happened and cherry was nearby and he saw the signs before it got bad (remembered from the previous time / his own experiences) and helped talk reki down before it got bad (he has a soothing voice)

usually, though, when / if it happens (because reki usually feels safe there), langa is the one who helps

but it got so much worse after skating against adam the first time because he no longer felt safe and suddenly everyone cheering adam’s name even after witnessing what he did to reki was too much but langa was racing adam so langa wasn’t there and this time it was joe who kneeled in front of him and started talking just loud enough for reki to hear and he was like “you’re safe—we won’t let anyone hurt you. we won’t let him hurt langa. you’re safe. i’m here and so is cherry and shadow and miya and langa will be waiting for you at the end of the race…”

it happens again at the next race he goes to—and this time it’s miya who notices and they tug on langa’s sleeve and is like “i think you need to take reki somewhere else” and langa does :)

okay i’ll end on a positive ts note or two—langa asks reki to add the ts ribbon to the design on his skateboard

shadow finds chewelry at the store one day when he’s shopping and buys it for reki (and gets a matching one for langa!)

once reki came back after his mental health break, the first thing joe said to him was, and this is nonnegotiable “reki! i missed you and your tics!”

miya once overheard reki muttering to himself about his annoying tics were, so they intervened and was like “your tics aren’t annoying. they’re you and anyone who think s they’re annoying is an idiot”

and for the first time in his life, reki doesn’t feel alone and isolated and so different from everyone (at least, he’s working on that last one) and he’s finally found a group of people who want him on their team and a boyfriend who always supports him and makes him feel less isolated, tics and all <3

i uhh I have a lot of feelings,,,

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velvetcloxds · 4 years ago

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CURVES| D.H.

Pairing: Derek x fem!Reader

Word count: 1885 words

Warning: discussing body image, negative opinion of body, body comparison

Summary: Reader and Derek have been friends for years. Derek finds her in her kitchen worrying over having to go swimming with Lydia and reader explains her struggle with her body image.

“I don’t know.” I say, holding my books tighter against my chest as I follow Lydia to the bleachers. She frowns.

“Please,” She begs, grabbing my arms and pulling me to a stop. “It’s been forever since we did anything together, just the girls,” She explains and looks back to where Jackson and the other lacrosse players are walking out of the school building. “I need a night without lacrosse talk.” She says and I smile lightly at her little eyes roll, but frown again when she looks back at me for a reply.

“I’m not getting out of this, am I?” I ask and she nods with a satisfied smile and I sigh loudly. “Can I convince you to do anything else?” She shakes her head quickly.

“Shopping and sunbathing, Y/n. It’s all we need, “ She says, linking our arms as we start walking again. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning and we’ll go get some new bikini’s before going to the lake house,” She informs me and nods at Jackson who is waving her over to the bench. “Duty calls. Stop pouting it’s going to be fun.” She tells me and boops my nose before scurrying away towards Jackson and I shake my head with a smile as I watch her leave. I stay still for a while, making sure she reaches him without being hassled by anyone and then turn to leave, already dreading the weekend ahead, even though it’s quite literally just begun.

I fall into step quite quickly, only pausing to put my books into my bag before walking home. My parents are working late again, so I have the house for myself for a couple of hours, but if history has taught me anything, it’s that Derek Hale tends to show up unplanned and unfed, whenever he wants. Not that I mind, it’s always been like that and only more so since the fire.

I lock the door behind me, throwing my bag onto the couch and heading to the kitchen. I shake my head when I see Derek’s car parked in the backyard, just like I thought it would be and grab the pizza bites out of the freezer. The stairs creek behind me as the microwave starts doing its thing and I throw the empty box away.

“How did you get in here?” I ask, turning around just as he takes a seat at the table. “The door was locked.” I add with an amused smile as he stares up at me.

“But your window wasn’t.” He says and smirks happily. I shake my head as I slip onto the counter.

“Derek, my bedroom is a mess.” I say, only now remembering that I was too lazy to clean it up before going to school. Derek nods his head quickly, brows raised for effect.

“Hell yeah, it is,” He says and shrugs. “Don’t freak out, you know I don’t mind,” He adds sweetly and I smile over at him before focusing my attention on my folded legs, fiddling with my fingers as the sound of the microwave fills the room. I hear him sigh softly, moving in his chair. “What’s up?” He asks and I shrug.

“Nothing.” I reply too quickly and he scoffs.

“Bullshit,” I look up at him surprised. “I can literally smell that you’re not okay,” He informs me and I raise my brow at him in confusion. He rolls his eyes. “Chemo signals, Y/n. Now tell me what’s going on?” I think it over for a moment before shaking my head with a sigh.

“You wouldn’t understand.” I say and the alarm from the microwave pings to tell me it’s done and I use that as a momentary distraction, jumping down and getting it, placing it down in front of him.

“On account of the fact that I’m not of the feminine variety or no longer of the teenage variety?” He asks, lightly grabbing my wrist to stop me from leaving. I shrug again and he nods. “Ahh, both.” He uses his foot to push back a chair and then smiles as I rip my arm away from him. “Sit. And talk.” He orders and I roll my eyes as I take a seat next to him, watching as he grabs a pizza bite from the plate.

“You’ll think it’s stupid.”

“Most things are,” He shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I can’t be here for you anyway.” I let out a loud breath, reaching for a pizza bite, but pulling my hand back slowly, he watches the gesture carefully, raising a brow at me.

“You know Lydia, right?” I ask and he thinks it over before nodding, chewing slowly as he waits for more information. “Would you say that she is, I don’t know, good looking?” I ask and he leans back in his chair with a shrug.

“I guess.”

“Exactly,” I almost shout and he flinches, furrowing his brows as I settle back down in my chair. “Exactly.” I repeat, calmer this time. “She’s very pretty and her hair is silky and she’s in perfect shape, like the perfect possible shape. One could go as far as to say that she’s like the perfect example of what we’re expected to look like.”

“We, being all girls?” He asks and I nod, leaning onto the table with my elbows.

“Yes.” I look down at the table. “Except that not everyone does look like that, perfect,” I say and frown. “Some of us aren’t as one would say, skinny.” I clarify and look up to find him smiling lightly, leaning onto the table as well, he looks me over slowly.

“I really hope this isn’t you hating on yourself right now, because you’re literally ridiculously beautiful and I’d be damned if you’ve somehow convinced yourself otherwise.” He says in an effortlessly smooth tone that would usually prompt me to blush, but I roll my eyes instead.

“Okay, you saying that doesn’t count.” I say, taking a pizza bite and munching on it. He scoffs.

“Why not?” I laugh softly.

“You’re like family, Derek. There’s some sort of inclined niceness that goes with it, you have to say shit like that. It’s like a mom telling you that your dress is nice or my brother telling me my hair doesn’t look horrible. It doesn’t count.” He raises a brow, sitting back quickly, his face disgusted as he looks at me.

“Okay, first of all, I’m not like a brother and please don’t put me in a position to act as such because then the way I look at you would be rather questionable,” He says, looking over at me seriously to make sure I get what he means, and I bite my lip to hide a smile forming. “And secondly…” He looks me over again, eyes darker as he smiles at me. “When I called you beautiful, I was also implying how crazy hot you are, which doesn’t sound like a compliment, but bloody hell you’re in no position to think you’re ugly.” He ends and despite myself, I feel my cheeks warming up. I swallow slowly as I look back to the table, not sure what to say until his hand numbly takes hold of mine on the table. “Not everyone looks the same, doesn’t mean that you’re ugly by default, it just means you have a different form of beauty.” He tells me, tone softer this time.

“You really think that?” I ask, fingers folding around his own around his own. He smiles.

“Of course, I do.” He says and tilts his head to get my attention. “Do you know me to say something just because I know that it’s what you want to hear?” I laugh lightly as I shake my head and his smile grows as a result. “Exactly. Now, don’t let me ever hear you talking down on yourself again, you’re much more than just your body. Doesn’t matter what size or shape you’re in, I’ll always think you’re pretty bloody brilliant. “

“Thank you,” I reply softly and gently pull my hand away from his when I realize that I haven’t let go yet. “You want something to drink?” I ask, standing up from the chair awkwardly, he laughs lightly while he nods and I pretend not to notice as I walk over to the fridge. It’s silent for a second and the plate scuffs against the table as he eats another few pizza bites.

“I mean it, you know,” He says, confusing me as I place our glasses down on the table. “You might be my default family, but I do not see you as my sister,” He clarifies and I clearly am not doing a good job of hiding my shock or the fact that I obviously don’t see him as a brother either. He laughs. “You really think that I come here everyday for the pizza bites?” He asks and I shrug.

“We do buy the good brand.” I say, mockingly and he rolls his eyes, far from serious or annoyed.

“You do. But I come here for you,” He announces like it’s nothing and my heart does a full-on backflip because holy shit, this man can’t possibly be serious. He smiles. “I heard that.” He says and looks at my chest when the embarrassment makes my heart beat even faster, he smiles likes he’s achieved something great and then gets up from his chair, picking up the empty plate as he does. I frown.

“Wait does this mean that…”

“Oh, I’ve been very much aware of our shared attraction for quite some time,” He says and my mouth all but falls open as I stare at him, a look he completely ignores while he puts the plate in the sink. “Speaking of, are you free tomorrow?” He asks me casually and I shake my head because clearly words will fail me. He nods. “Next weekend then, you can wear that red dress you hide in the back of your closet, the one that shows your curves,” He smiles when I stare at him blankly. “I really do love your curves, Y/n.” He informs me as he starts heading to the door, making me stand up as well.

“Where are you going?”

“Your mom is on her way home,” He informs me and shrugs. “And truth be told, I think I might send you into shock if I stay any longer.” He explains and once again steals a glance at my chest where even I can hear my heart nearly exploding.

“You didn’t drink your juice.” I say and he folds his arms in front of him, smirking with a raised brow.

“I think you need it more than I do. Cool down and all that.” He says and I gasp.

“Derek Hale,” I say, walking towards him. “I did not peg you as the type of guy who just shamelessly flirts with his best friend.” I say, stilling in front of him. He smiles.

“I think there’s a lot of things you might not know about me, Y/n.” He says and looks over at the door when my mom pulls into the driveway. He leans forward slightly, kissing the top of my head sweetly, completely contrasting his words before pulling away. “I think this is going to be fun.”

Hi there, more of my work can be found on Wattpad under @mjoubert. Mxx.

Masterlist

#derekhale x reader #derek x reader #derek hale one shot #derek hale imagines #derek hale #teenwolf x reader #teen wolf

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years ago

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Insecure Thicc!Reader

Pairings: BNHA Boys x reader

Warnings: Some spicy bits, but not too crazy, a little crude, kinda implied fem! in some bits, but you can just skip over those points if ya want

Characters: Bakugou, Kirishima, Dabi

Author’s Note:

Hello! This is the first time I’ve written for Dabi so I hope his turned out ok! As a thicc girl myself, I kinda poured my heart out a bit for this request. I hope you enjoy these little headcanons (I kinda went crazy oop—)!

If you’re feeling insecure, remember that you’re beautiful, no matter what other people say! I’m still on my own journey of self-love, but I hope that this can bring a bit of comfort to anyone who is anywhere on that road.

I know that it says Mirio, but I don't write for him so I contacted the requester and they swapped him out for Dabi.

I love you guys! Hope you like it!

-Sugar

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Bakugou:

My mans Bakugou

He can appreciate some nice booty

I'm just going to jump straight to cuddling here because that's what I feel like doing

In public, Bakugou isn't all that affectionate

I am by no means saying he wouldn't gladly flaunt your relationship and yell about how wonderful and attractive his s/o is, but for the most part he likes to keep it between you two

But during down time, when there's nothing to do and all evening to do it, he wants you in his lap

SNUGGLING

He a stronk boi, you're sitting on his lap whether you like it or not

You are his human teddy bear, and you're going to have a hard time getting him to let you go

He wants to touch you all over and let his hands sink into your soft, plush body

Cheeks? Perfect for kissing and squeezing between his fingers

Your chest? He likes to hold you in his hands and test the weight of your boobs. They're so nice and soft and squeezable

Tummy? Bakugou's all over giving you soft, slow kisses over your skin, sucking a little into his mouth and between his teeth to nibble on

Thighs? He's touching on them constantly. If ever he's feeling possessive over you, his hands are going to fly to your legs and give them a solid squeeze to remind you you're his

Butt? Like I said, he loves it. He likes smacking it at every opportunity. Watching the resulting jiggle is the most satisfying and enticing thing to him

He likes to hold you at night, either his hands firmly clasping those lower cheeks or simply having it pressed into him. As much as he can get, he'll take

…

Now, if he ever catches you saying something bad about yourself, you're done for

You say it when you're home alone together? He's going to prove to you how beautiful and valuable you are through any methods he can think of

Lecture consisting mostly of him yelling about how much he loves you? Check

Tackling you in an aggressive hug and pinning you to the bed only to point out and gently kiss everything you dislike about yourself, telling you how much he loves it? Check

There's another thing I could mention he'd do, but my mom might read this, so I don't want to get into it, buuutt you can fill it in yourself 👀—

Say something bad out in public? He's going to give you a death glare and pull you aside as soon as he can to tell you to stop

If someone makes a nasty comment about you, they got a big storm comin

Let's just say that, after an extensive apology from the person, you probably won't see them again for weeks

Bakugou knows how to get to people

…

Katsuki doesn't care about what you look like, as long as you're happy and healthy

He values how you carry yourself and how you treat him. Something as superfluous as appearance isn’t on his mind when choosing and loving a partner

He's a good person to vent to as well. It may not seem like he’s listening sometimes, but he his. His insight is truly outstanding. There's something about him where, when he wants to, he always knows the right thing to say

13/10 loves you just the way you are and knows you're beautiful. Would not hesitate bitch to throw hands to anyone who says otherwise

____________

Kirishima:

Idk if this is me just self projecting onto him or whatever, but high key I think Kirishima could have a thing for thicc people

Nothing against our skinny queens and kings! He'd love you either way

But like, I can 100% see it

So he honestly gets kinda offended when he realizes you're insecure about your body

He understands why you feel this way—he's not blind to the fact that you're a little bigger than some other people

What really gets him is why you put so much pressure on yourself to look a certain way. To him, you're the most beautiful wonderful person in his world. Why would you be so negative towards yourself?

He knows how it feels to be insecure, especially with appearance

If you want to change yourself, he's 100% supportive. Mans is literally the most perfect gym buddy and would love to be by your side on your journey of self improvement

If you're not interested in changing your appearance, whether it be simply just for now or even never, guess what? He's 100% supportive!

I've seen this everywhere, and if you're also a regular in this niche of fanfic, I'm sure you have too, but Kiri is the biggest hype man

New outfit? He's all over telling you how good you look. Flaunt it, babes!

New makeup look? Amazing! Beautiful!

Did something different with your hair? Yesyesyesyesyes

And he's completely genuine in his praise as well. It's not manly to be fake about your thoughts and beliefs, and he knows for a fact that you're beautiful, just the way you are. Confidence goes perfectly with any look!

…

When it comes to cuddling, he's all over you

He'll respect it if you're uncomfortable being touched in some places, but what he wants most is to be as handsy with you as possible

He just wants to run his hands over every surface of your body. Nothing suggestive about it (unless you're in the mood! 😉), he just wants to feel you

Boob pillow? That's all his. It's like there's one magnet in your chest and another in the side of his head. They're just so soft and plush and squishy?? To die for! Even if your chest is comparatively small, he's still on you. You can't stop him

When his head isn't planted on your chest, it's settled on your belly. He likes the warmth against his cheek and finds every aspect of it cute

Rolls? Adorable! Stretch marks? Beautiful! Hair? Pretty!

11/10 you're getting tummy kithes and little teasing tickles every night you spend together

He loves your thighs. Being a little grabby with them is totally his thing

Yet another place to leave kisses. Maybe even love bites too `O.O`

Great place for him to take little naps. Literally I cannot stress enough how comfortable he finds you, immersed in your scent, cheek comfortably resting on the tops of your legs, your fingers carding through his soft red hair. You are literally Heaven on Earth to him

Insecure about your arms? He loves them. They lead to you, and give him the best cuddles and hugs ever in the whole wide world. He'll kiss them all the way up and down until you admit they're not so bad

That goes for everything though. If he catches you talking bad about yourself or your body, he will tackle you and start kissing you all over until you admit how beautiful you are

KISSES ON YOUR CHEEKS. CHUBBY CHEEKS ARE VERY ADORABLE AND COMPLETELY FREE KISSING REAL ESTATE

He won't hesitate to carry you around or let you sit on his lap. He's a hero (or even just training to be a hero). He's super strong and manly, and besides, what else are those muscles for? Punching bad guys? Nah, he's more interested in holding his favorite person in the world (oop, that's you!)

Doesn't matter how heavy you are (I'm also talking to all yee who are 200lbs+. I see you. He's got you), he can pick you up. Carrying around his s/o is 100% mandatory and you can't say no (well, I mean, you can but like, only if you truly mean it)

Any days you feel down on yourself, he can be a little more serious

He's a great listener and will hear every word you have to say without interrupting, even though a part of him wants to interject any time you may try to call yourself ugly or unattractive

Once you've vented everything out, he'll pull you into his arms and let you settle on his lap. Then he'll give you the hype/pep talk you need

Anything you don't like about yourself, he'll go on a whole rant about how much he loves it. It's not a flaw, it's just a part of who you are. And because it's a part of you, Kirishima is going to love it, no matter how much resentment you may feel towards it

He's a big hugger, so he wants to have you as close to him as he can. It helps him feel like he's making you feel better

…

Heaven forbid someone tries to give you trouble for how you look

He won't react as explosively as Bakugou, but they still better be praying

Kirishima's going to give them a good long talk about treating others with respect and being manly. He's not leaving until they apologize

All in all, Kirishima will forever love you for who you are. He doesn't care about your body shape or size. As long as you're healthy and happy and being your best self, he's going to be all for you

____________

Dabi:

So this guy is not having ya insecure BS

He doesn't see any problem with the way you look

He really grows to like your body even more than he expected over the course of the relationship

He likes how much more of you he has to grab and kiss and smack (affectionately)

He's pretty open with PDA

He likes grabbing your ass where everyone can see and giving you a nice squeeze just to let you and everyone else know you're his

He's into making out with you behind the bar, just waiting for someone to walk in on you

Dabi isn't big on being soft in public, but behind closed doors, you'd find him giving softer kisses and lighter touches

Initially isn't big on cuddling but opens up to it more as he finds how soft and huggable you are

You can bet you're sitting on his lap whenever you can, whether it's alone together in your room or even during a meeting; this man has no shame (not that he should be)

When you open up to him about your insecurities, he'll be a little upset

He sees nothing wrong with you at all, so why is your body something to be upset over? If anything, he's more attracted to you like this

He has a bit of a hard time finding himself attractive due to his burns (he's so wrong tho), so in that sense, he can somewhat understand

Decides to make a bit of a pact with you to stop being so insecure about yourselves and making a big deal out of appearances

You both love each other for who you are, and that's what's important

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Taglist: @a-happy-otter @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @sendhelpimstupid @sokkasangel @xoxopam4

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ceoofuwu · 4 years ago

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𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 ;; 𝘮𝘪𝘺𝘢 𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘶 𝘹 𝘧.𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟐.𝟏𝐤

𝐀/𝐍: so, this is the first Atsumu scenario! I'd literally give up my life for this man, I CAN'T HOLD BACK. Tho it turned out quite dark... I guess I made amends for it with the happy note in the end, then?

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: living with the Miya twins definitely means throwing party every once in a while and painting the town red... but what if, just once, things spiral out of control?

𝐓.𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ content ahead; mentions of sexual intercourse, unwanted/non-planned pregnancy, cursing. Suggestive themes.

Another wave of nausea washed over your body, making your guts twist with the unpleasant feeling of food hastily gushing out of your body.

You arrested your head further buried in the toilet, hands clutched tightly around the sides, mind flooding with hazy memories of last night’s events, as a stamp of warmth came in contact with your back.

Sloppy, heated kisses along the sensitive area of your neck were sending shivers through your entire body, which was being ravished by pleasure.

«Come on, baby…» he whispered against your ear, your lobe caught between his teeth, «I’ll be gentle».

Atsumu rubbed soothing circles on the broad surface of your back, crouched beside your weakened figure, the warmness of his palm eager to drive your fatigue away.

You had been sharing a home with him and his brother for quite some time now, the latter merely staying to keep you company and lend a hand with the loan. Showered with independence as you were, throwing parties every now and then was only natural. However, it wasn’t always completely kept under control.

«Drank too much, didn’t you?» he asked softly, worryingly, while his hand came to gently wipe your mouth with a small-sized towel he had fetched.

«I doubt I drank as much as you did, Tsumu…» you sighed, «… but I still don’t think that’s the proble—« your statement was cut off by your body pushing up another round of fluids.

Your back arched at the intolerable amount of rapture that was shaking your entire being, ��M-more…! Atsumu…!»

«More?» he smirked, looking at you with devilish eyes then throwing your legs over his broad shoulders and thrusting even more forcefully this time, his bare cock hitting spots in depths it had never been before.

He remained silent the whole time, standing by your side, lightly pulling your hair back and continuing to soothe you with his rubbing patterns, his heart aching at the sight of your body completely cleaning itself out, leaving you fully worn out in its wake.

You lifted yourself slowly, making sure there was no other round coming then snatched the towel out of Atsumu’s hands hastily and wiped the stains of puke clean.

«You were saying…?» he asked, his eyes carefully following your movements to the sink, where you rinsed your mouth out.

«I don’t think it’s only drinking that got me like this…»

«What do you mean?»

«You weren’t particularly cautious last night…»

You were a complete and utter mess by now; body coated in sweat, quaking with overwhelming ecstasy, burning with the need for more friction, for the touch of your lover, who was mercilessly pounding in and out of you, gaining momentum with every push.

You could feel him twitching inside of you, meaning he was close to his peak, so you were already preparing for the pull out but, with a loud, lengthy groan against your clavicle, you only felt a new-found kind of warmth spreading inside of you instead.

«You feel so damn good baby…» he croaked, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breaths tickling the sensitive area, while he was gradually climbing down from his high.

What with all those surges of bliss washing over you and the influence of alcohol you were under, you didn’t care as much as to realize the severity of what had just happened.

«You don’t mean…» his voice trailed off, amber eyes widening with surprising realization.

The grave shadow cast upon his face was gone with a mere shrug of his shoulders.

«I do. There’s a high chance, Atsumu».

«I guess we’ll have a little brat crawling around the house in a few months then» he chuckled.

This was one of the few times in your life when you actually couldn’t believe in your ears. He couldn’t be talking seriously. He was deadpanning. Could he be that childish?

«Are you even in your right mind?! Do you happen to have even the slightest idea how serious this is?! What responsibilities it requires?!» you shouted, taking aggressive steps towards him, «How are we supposed to raise a child when you can barely fend for ourselves?» your index daringly poked his chest, look glowing with fury, «What makes you think I’d even want a child growing inside of me, huh?» you spurted out, words dripping with the bitter truth.

«We’re not even 100% sure you’re pregnant» he replied calmly, not allowing the burden of guilt weigh down on him.

«So you’re just going to hang onto a possibility? Is this your way of self-defense?» your tone stayed high on decibels, continuously shooting the blonde with arrows of qualm, but triggering his anger simultaneously.

His thick eyebrows came to a frown, a dark hue of irritation cloaking his face, blood boiling with rage. Deep down, he was well aware of the fact that he had been careless and therefore brought by this outcome, but at the same time he wanted to explode. All this unwavering accusation made him see red; and he didn’t particularly excel at his keeping his temper in check.

He didn’t care about neither your reaction nor the impact his words would have on your already heated argument because he honestly needed anything to fire back, when he spat out:

«It’s not my fault you can’t control what’s going in and out of your cunt».

SLAP!

Your palm clashed with the tender skin of his cheek, the sound of skin finding skin echoing in the empty room. At that point, you genuinely believed that there was no other way to back fire him; he had completely crushed your defenses with that mere line of his. Your heart was shattered to thousand pieces, like a fragile piece of glass thrown madly at the floor.

However, you still had some remaining strength for a finishing blow.

«I should have seen this coming. You always run away from your responsibilities, like the immature toddler you are. You don’t give a fuck about other people’s feelings, do you? All you care about is to feed and satisfy your own, insatiable ego!» you yelled, coming to realize that there are actual tears streaming down your face, but not minding at all the reason for their appearance, «…because that’s just what you are, Atsumu. An immature, egotistical pig».

His almond-shaped eyes widened in shock his body aching with the sensation of something having pierced through his chest. He wanted to yell, curse, break—no, destroy something. His madness was getting the better of him but even so, he somehow stopped dead on his tracks upon hearing that cruel utterance. His stare travelled on your form, inspecting your exhausted state, pity feeling him to the brim. Was this really what you thought of him? Was he truly the one that had you messed up like this?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden opening of the bathroom’s door. His twin brother walked in, wearing an expression of confusion and worry as his grey orbs fell on you.

«I can hear you screaming from the living room… is everything… o… kay? Why are you—« his gaze immediately pinned his brother, «--why is she crying?» he demanded.

Atsumu lowered his head in shame, glancing down at his feet, desperately struggling to avoid his brother’s uncomfortably scrutinizing look. One the one hand he had no clue how he was supposed to explain the situation, but on the other, he couldn’t exactly step back from it.

«Ιt’s… none of your business…» he murmured.

«I don’t think he heard you, Atsumu. Speak up a little. Tell him how your stupid, little ass fucked everything up again».

«What is she talking about, Tsumu?» Osamu’s facial expression was died in puzzlement, «Talk!»

«…you might become an uncle» he muttered reluctantly between gritted teeth.

«What?!» his look hopped between the two of you impatiently, not landing on anyone in particular.

Of course he was taken aback. How could he not be? Atsumu can be reckless from time to time yet, that seemed too surrealistic even for a person that knew him so well.

You were quite lost in your own concerns, which prevented you from noticing that Osamu had hastily and offensively grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, shaking him furiously.

«I always knew you were a stupid and annoying brother but I was hoping you’d be at least tolerable as a boyfriend!» he shouted in the other twin’s face, knuckles whitening at the tightness of his grip.

You’d usually laugh your heart out whenever the twins were fighting but this time the ambiance was too intense to allow even the slightest curl in your lips.

«We don’t even know if she’s accurately pregnant, you asshole! She hasn’t had a fucking test yet!» Atsumu roared back in exasperation.

Osamu’s features were completely painted with a mixture of bewilderment and realization, «She hasn’t?» his peek drifted to you and you shook your head in the negative.

«Well then…» he let go of his brother with a push, «…I’ll be back» he spoke, turning to leave the room.

«Where the hell are you going?»

«Where you should have gone from the beginning».

Thanks to Osamu, a light smile made its way to your lips. However, it was swiftly taken away by Atsumu’s murderous, disgusted glare. You answered to it with an identical one, not wanting to show him how much your heart was practically broken by that moment.

When he finally walked out of the bathroom, you made sure to lock the door he had harshly slammed behind him, before your body automatically slid against it, eventually collapsing on the floor

«Ugh, why does it take so freaking long?» you whined silently above the pregnancy test.

Before you knew it, your already pallid face was stained with tears once more, your hands rushing to cover your mouth and muffle your perpetual sobs as you succumbed entirely to the pain that was nested in your chest, waves of dejection, wrath and numbness hitting you relentlessly and unstoppably, letting you solely rot into the melancholy of anticipation….

Thankfully, Osamu had came back mere minutes ago with five tests in his hands, all of them produced by the same company. You explained that there was no need for so many, but seemed like Samu had quite freaked out so he couldn’t help himself. You had hastily snatched the tests and run off to the bathroom again, not paying to attention to what Atsumu was doing.

You would deal with him later, either way.

«Don’t be positive, don’t be positive…»

For about ten minutes straight, you were running conspiracies in your mind, attempting to calculate every possible outcome. If Atsumu was indeed the father of your child, then that… made also Osamu a dad? They’re literally the split image of each other so be it biological or adoptive father would practically make no difference. Which meant that if Osamu had kids—

«Are you… alright in here?» the door opened ajar and a familiar head slightly, almost timidly, protruded.

«Oh, now big, scary Atsumu isn’t mad?» you jibed.

Atsumu slid in, gently closing the door behind him and heading towards you.

«Look, I…» his eyes moved to the floor, afraid to encounter yours, «…I didn’t mean what I said… really, I uh…» you failed to suppress a light giggle at his miserable attempt to swallow his pride, «…I’m sorry, okay? Stop mocking me! And I’ll take care of our child…! If we have one, I mean…» you glanced at the test one more time to see if anything had changed and your eyes widened in surprise.

«Atsumu».

«…and I’ll do anything, I’ll cook even without setting the kitchen on fire I—«

«Atsumu!»

“Just don’t be mad at me okay? I’ll even change the baby—«

«ATSUMU!» you yelled, also making awkward hand signals that made no sense to earn his attention.

«What?»

«You won’t have to change any baby! Nor take care of it!»

He lifted his eyebrow in confusion, «We are getting a babysitter?»

«There’s no baby you idiot! I’m not pregnant! I’m not---« a silent sob cut off your sentence.

«Hey, wait, why are you crying?» Atsumu’s hand rested on your flushed cheek, his thumb swiping away a tear that came unbidden on your beautiful face.

«I don’t… know…» you spoke weakly and then immediately dived in his arms, clutching him to the point of asphyxia and probably clawing his back, while burying your wet face on his chest, where you were bawling your eyes out.

«It’s over now baby…» he whispered, planting a soft kiss on the crown of your head and rubbing soothing patterns on your back, «…take it all out».

Deep down, there was still a lingering ray of hope praying that you had actually that unbidden seed inside of you… it wouldn’t be catastrophic…

Hope you enjoyed! Leave a heart, comment, reblog! 💕

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aglimmerintheriver · 4 years ago

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How to mentally keep baneful spirits out - no tools required AKA How Not To Give A F*** About the Uninvited

You can find so much info on here and throughout the web about negative entities and protecting yourself from them. Just as there is so much info, there are all of these different perspectives on how our energies associate with them. In this post I hope to cover a lot of different perspectives, as well as some creative methods for dealing with baneful spirits and your own defense magic tool set.

Introduction

A lot of mythical creatures are based in energetic truth- the vampire is aligned with the energy vampire, the evil and feared witch (like in the Witch movie) is aligned with the early-Christian understanding of the Wise People. The word Witch came from Wic, which means ‘Wisdom’ in Germanic languages. Think of anything given malevolent or benevolent power in the media, and you can likely tie it to misconceptions about the witchcraft and pagan community.

In Shonda Rhimes’ “Grey’s Anatomy” there is an episode where Dr. Miranda Bailey talks about how her OCD creates negative, scary fears within the mind that feel so real that they become real, but she also says that if her mind can think up and believe in these terrible, scary things, she can also think up positive things that make her feel better about those fears- things that help create a buffer, to save her from being so afraid. I’m completely blanking on which episode this was, if you know please let me know and I’ll add it in. By bringing this up, I want to point to something that inspired me to write this post: that elasticity of our perception and of the power we hold within ourselves being dependent on our awareness of our power.

All of this to say that this is not a post created for someone experiencing demonic intrusion. I may or may not have experienced this kind of interaction and if I have, I was simply saved by calling on Jesus (holy freaking heck did not expect the Christian god to help me out but he did) and asking that he save my soul from the attack. If you are under demonic attack or believe that you are, please consult a shaman or a witch who knows how to deal with demonic power. My understanding of demons is that they were the very first spirits here, and so they are the oldest of the old and have a lot of power. That’s not to say your power stands no chance against them, but if you feel overwhelmed by the spirits you’re facing, a lot of the times it is helpful not just for our spiritual protection but also for our perception of how safe we are to call on someone outside of us for help- whether that be a deity or other type of spirit we revere as having badass protective strength or another human we believe can help protect us/banish whatever’s in your sphere.

Perception and Reality

What we believe is what we see. Another way to phrase this is, ‘Where the mind goes, your energy flows”, a very famous phrase within the spiritual community (I believe it has Buddhist origins but not sure of who said it first). This is why a lot of witches are recommended to meet with a therapist or psychologist regularly to ensure our mental health is strong. A lot of people within our community believe that mental health creates spiritual gaps wherein baneful spirits can creep in and target us, but others believe that the cause of mental problems is our spiritual health itself. I’m in the camp of believing mental health is important no matter how you see the correlation- taking care of your brain is just as important as keeping up with the rest of your practice.

Another aspect of protection and magic is not just ‘what we see’ but how. To bring in a little cognitive function theory, someone with extroverted intuition (or Ne) would likely see a situation and the world from twenty or more different lenses. This is like viewing the world through a multi-faceted crystal and being able to look at all these different crystal-edges and see a different distortion. And that’s really what our view is mostly, because it is nearly impossible to go around living your life and be able to see everything EXACTLY as it is. It’s just not reasonable to think you’re going to be able to have a clear lens every time. If you do and if you’ve developed that, please share how you did and help me figure that out haha, but until then I’m going to work with my understanding that our perception is going to have some type of illusion to it.

And here comes what this post has been leading to- the thing I’m excited about. The Imagining, and the power in that imagining. This is mental craft.

The You-Shaped Perception

In focus meditation you’re told that attention to the breath or to one sensation is important, because you’re narrowing your cannon-sized attention to the size of a pinhole. In much the same way, mental magic is about not just changing your lens, but also how you use that lens.

You can. do. Anything.

It’s true. I mean, within physical means, right? You’re only going to fly if you know how to build mechanical wings, so this isn’t some offhanded promise meant halfheartedly. Nope, I mean this with all of me.

The mind is our friend and our enemy. I’m not even a big fan of meditation and yet I know that. It’s that changeable lens we see things through and how we think of them.

Our mind, my friend, is our power.

In speaking of the mind, I am not just thinking about your brain matter, or your reason, or whatever. I’m talking intention (leading to manifestation) and conscious attention to changing our thoughts.

Think something long enough and you start to believe it. Don’t like your thoughts, or how you feel? What thought or visualization would help you feel better?

There are rabbit holes we fall into where we either can’t control our thoughts and feelings due to mental illness and other times when we just don’t want to control them. Sometimes it feels good to be swept away by our own ocean of emotion and madness. It’s part of being human. The former situation (with the rabbit holes) is likely to be helped by a mental health professional and possibly some anti-depressants. The latter can a p p a r e n t l y be helped by meditation.

(Also, did you know that meditation helps grow the gray matter in your brain? Sitting down and just watching your thoughts pass like clouds, allowing your body to rest, opens you up to expanded compassion, self awareness, contemplation, and helps your memory. If anyone is interested in practicing this, I’m going to be working through this free online MBSR/Mindfulness course in the hopes of helping my depression and my powers of intention- it looks like a great resource especially during this time of political and global tension. I believe our souls are deeply connected to one another and also to the overall soul of the world. Everything that happens in it is something we collectively experience and all of the stress along with this social isolation that the majority of us are experiencing is incredibly traumatizing. I highly recommend checking this out and seeing how it affects you over a few weeks’ time: https://palousemindfulness.com/ )

The point I’m trying to make here is that 98 times out of 100 times, YOU control your perception. And that’s a very empowering and creative thing. Especially when you identify as a witch 😄

gif of Joaquin Phoenix as the joker with a smiling mask on, then pulling up the mask and grinning.

DAMN TABITHA JUST GET TO THE POINT ALREADY

Okay okay. Here’s my point.

You can use creativity in your craft. You know this already. But you don’t need a book of spells (they’re fun to read though) and you don’t need the latest books on psychic magic. You can seriously just use your magical brain.

Intention is everything. Your natural intuitive powers are where your strength lies- I’d say it’s the key to unlocking whatever the heck you want in life.

Look at your life like it is a children’s story book or movie, alright? It sounds stupid but please stay with me if you made it this far, because I think this is where it gets good. You know how the main character faced this seemingly impossible task or challenge, and they didn’t know how they’d do it but they did it anyway? Things just worked out for them, either because they did some work to help meet their goal and they fought to believe in themselves, or because the writer(s) wanted to throw them some tools that would help them easily get their goal.

You’re the main character and you’re the author of your story. And not only are you the author, but you’ve got all these spirits helping you co-author what unfolds in your life. So it doesn’t matter if there’s a damn fire-breathing knife-throwing monster standing on top of you while you sleep because in your witch brain, all you need to do is say “I am stronger than you will ever be. I am the apex predator” and watch that nasty bugger fucking deflate.

What is the most empowering thing is realizing that you are worth fearing, yourself.

Now this isn’t an excuse to take on a bad-bitch persona and mess your life up. Don’t go around hexing people willy nilly, please. Don’t think you can conjure a demon and be able to control it.

Just know that you can control yourself and the space you’re in. Cause you a badass, bitch.

An actual example from my real life

I have a little known disorder called Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. Essentially it’s scary AF because I have dislocations on the daily and they’re painful and honestly, it’s the bane of my existence.

That’s not even exaggerating haha.

So along with it comes a lot of second guessing self worth, because of how it’s perceived and how I’m perceived because I’m a lady with EDS. The questions I’ve fielded, the conversations I’ve had, the experiences I’ve had to deal with as a result of it are utterly ridiculous (sometimes, downright despicable).

One day I was talking to my therapist about self-perception and not feeling strong enough to face life with my handicap, and she asked me to point out the strengths it’s encouraged in me. I was able to point to a few things and while I did, I could see Brigid beside me and this oak shield forming around my body, and I imagined that every word I spoke, every good quality I have grown from having my disorder, made that shield stronger.

There are the times when I rabbit hole and I forget what that armor means and looks like. I forget that it’s there. But inevitably, something happens that would normally feel like it was undermining me and instead, I remember that oak shield and Brigid’s protective, loving energy, and I remember how expansive it feels to see myself as being worth this life and as having valuable traits to offer to the world. That’s when I see that shield again.

As you can see this isn’t only for spirits, but it applies even in those situations too. I’ll detail my channeling session that ended with calling on Jesus another time haha as this is getting quite long. To wrap this up:

TL;DR: “How not to give a f*** about unwanted spirits”

- Decide not to give a f***

- Decide what you will give a f*** about

- Find a couple practices for protection that you like and stick with them

- Know what clairs you have that are strongest (and if none feel that strong right now, that’s perfectly normal. Don’t put pressure on yourself, just enjoy exploring how your intuition works and pay attention without obsessing (or try not to obsess anyways). You have time to experiment with intuition, I’ll try to find some good sources for this and write something for those of you frustrated with figuring out where your skills lie or how to use them.

- Know that they’re working, that you’re a freaking badass witch, and that nothing can come into your space without earning your wrath (which can just be a GTFO and a call on your fave deity if you like)

A lot of the time, spirits who show up don’t actually have any dominion to stay. You have the power. You own the space, you own YOUR space (the space of your body). So own that you own it and do it with certainty. Feel the POWAH haha.

Sources mentioned:

https://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2011/01/eight-weeks-to-a-better-brain/

#witchblr #spiritblr #protection magic #magick #banishing #mental magick #manifestation #intuition #imagination #intention work #visualization

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wondersofdreaming · 5 years ago

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Do you believe in fate?

Characters: Chris Evans x Bianca (OFC)

Word count: 2.598

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, and more fluff. Panic attack. Anxiety. Lack of confidence. Captain America to the rescue.

Author’s note: Anonymous request:

“CE x reader, reader works a office desk job and a 9-5 she’s tall/overweight and wants to lose it for her health. She hates her job and dreams of being an actress, she’s around Chris’ age and she thinks it’s too late to get started, she struggles with confidence. She also has depression and social anxiety. I have a long story idea that I’d like you to add/ change it/ complete it. I’ll number my post so the order won’t confuse you. Hope you’re up for a challenge. 😊 (pt1.)”

Read the rest of the request here.

I do not own any of the characters in this short story besides my OFC (Bianca), who is a figment of my imagination.

MASTERLIST

Tag: @katerka88

Feedback is appreciated.

Another day on the job had come and gone. Bianca stretched her arms over her head, cracking her back. Having to sit down in front of a computer five days a week, was taking its toll on her body. Her mother was the best chef in the city, but her food was made with full-fat milk and lots of butter. It was sticking to her belly, thighs, ass, and face. She was getting chubbier by the minute, and the added weight was concerning her since she knew that her BMI count was way too high. Higher than it should be. And she wasn’t getting any younger either. Her mother had started pestering her about grandchildren the day she had turned 30.

Her phone chimed from the other end of her desk, indicating a text message. Probably her mother that needed her to pick up groceries on her way home.

“B, I need you to get me some garlic and onions. I’m making your favourite stew tonight.”

Bianca replied and tossed her phone back into her purse. She needed to finish editing the article that was supposed to have been done an hour ago. All her colleagues had already left the building. Some had invited her out for a drink, but she had declined. Not a big fan of large crowds, especially not in a bar or a club.

Her boss had already been busting her ass on the deadline. She wanted to finish the damn article before she left the office for the weekend. So, she quickly typed the last thousand words and sent it. Hopefully, it was good enough to be printed, else she was going to get an earful on Monday.

She drove to the supermarket closest to her home. Grabbed a cart and started finding the things her mother needed. The list having become longer since the last message. Onions, garlic, carrots, broccoli, cabbage… soon enough her cart was full of all kinds of vegetables, dried pasta in various sizes and shapes, sauces from all over the world, and the usual, eggs, milk, toilet paper etc.

She filled up her car with the paper bags of groceries and bumped into a man when she turned around with the cart. He wore a dark blue jumper, washed-out jeans, and a baseball cap on top of his head.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t think anyone was behind me. Are you alright? I do apologize. I can’t believe I did that. Are you hurt?” Bianca babbled, she kept apologizing profusely, praying she hadn’t hurt him.

“I’m okay. You should look around more carefully. You never know who you’re going to run into.” He said. His voice deep, low, sexy, panty-melting, and swoon-worthy. Bianca furrowed her brow in concern.

“I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She mumbled. Then a light went off in her head. She had heard that voice before. She knew that voice.

Fucking hell, B. This was SO not how I imagined meeting Chris Evans. Oh no, please eyes, don’t cry now!

Tears were threatening to spill from the corners of her eyes. There was a high-pitched tone in both her ears. She saw Chris’ mouth moving, but she couldn’t hear him. Her heart rate went through the roof. Her body was shaking. Her palms sweating. Her breathing was uneven, taking short breaths way too fast.

Chris grabbed her shoulders and guided her to the boot of her car, which was still open. He pushed her gently into sitting down and showed her to take deep breaths. In and out. A few minutes later the ringing quieted down, and she could hear Chris again.

“Are you alright? That was quite the panic attack you had there.” He said and rubbed her back in a soothing motion.

“I am so sorry you had to witness that. I’m okay.” Bianca told him, she tried to move, but Chris held her firmly down.

“You’re staying right there, miss. You nearly passed out. Wait here, don’t move.” He told her and walked into the store. He came back out with a bottle of water and a chocolate bar.

“Thank you. You didn’t need to go through the trouble.” She said nervously as he handed her the water.

“It’s no trouble at all. Panic attacks are horrible to go through alone. Is there someone I can call to come to get you?” He asked. She shook her head. Chris opened the chocolate bar, motioning for her to take a bite of it. She held the bar, noticing it was her favourite, before taking a bite.

“No, I live close by. I’ll manage to get home. Thank you so much for your kindness.” She smiled at him. Chris nodded and moved towards his car. He turned around to see if Bianca had moved. She hadn’t. She hid her head in her hands, her elbows on her knees.

Chris sighed and walked back towards her. He heard her take in deep breaths, mumbling something to herself. He heard a few negative laden words that criticized her. Before he could stop himself or even think, he had wrapped his arms around her trembling body.

Bianca gasped, but she leaned into Chris’ embrace. She could feel his warmth seeping through her thin white jumper. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes, but she kept them at bay, not wanting to look like a weepy woman in front of her idol.

She collected her thoughts and got enough courage to move away from Chris. His eyes were still concerned, but she managed a soft smile.

“I’m really okay. Thank you though.” She said and gathered her purse. She stood from the boot and walked the empty cart to its station. Chris was still waiting for her.

“Are you sure that you can get home?” He asked.

“Absolutely. Thank you again, Mr Evans.”

“Call me Chris. Do you want to go out for coffee? To talk this through?” He asked, fidgeting with the edge of his jumper.

“Ehm. I really need to get back home, to my mum.” Bianca mumbled.

“Alright, how about we exchange phone numbers, then we can set a date for coffee later.”

Bianca fished out her phone from her purse and handed it to him, before a single thought you prevent her. Chris typed a text message to himself and handed the phone back. His own phone chimed in his pocket, signalling that the message had been received.

“You can call me anytime. I’ll see you around… I’m sorry, I never asked for your name.”

“It’s Bianca.”

“Bianca. I like that name. I’ll call you for that coffee, Bianca.”

Her name rolled off his tongue so perfectly. She was ready to pass out, this time not from a panic attack, but by how Chris freaking Evans was saying her name. Chris walked back to his car, while Bianca went to sit behind the steering wheel. She fanned her face, having begun blushing really hard after Chris had said her name, not once but twice. Bianca drove home, feeling a lot better than she had an hour earlier, not even her mother’s nagging about her coming home late could ruin her good mood.

A week later

Chris had sent her a text message, asking if she was free for that coffee he’d promised. She wrote back that she had Saturday off, in which Chris replied that he would love to occupy her time that day.

Saturday came and Bianca was throwing on clothing, nothing seemed to fit her perfectly, neither did they even look good on her. The only thing she felt comfortable in was a pair of old jeans and a loose fit navy blouse. She felt too casual, but the outfit had to do since she was out of time. Her alarm rung initiating that she was supposed to be out the door that instant.

“Bye ma! I’ll see you later,” she yelled across the house and walked towards her car in a fast tempo, so her mother wouldn’t keep her with questions or small-talk.

She drove to a nearby diner, where they had agreed to meet. It was placed outside the city, looked like a hazardous place from the outside, but every local knew that place was golden inside.

Chris was already sitting in a booth furthest away from the front entrance. He smiled when he and Bianca got eye contact. She couldn’t contain herself and gave him the happiest smile back. She hadn’t felt like smiling nor being happy in a long time.

“Bianca, I’m glad you came.” He chuckled nervously and held out his hand. She shook it and sat down opposite him.

“Glad you texted.”

A waitress walked over with her notepad and a pen that had been chewed on at the end.

“Hi Chris, long time no see.” She smiled.

“You know me, Carol, always either travelling or working.” Chris laughed.

“And who is this young lady? Haven’t seen you here before.”

“I’m Bianca. My mum used to be a chef in the city, so she would never let me eat anything else but her food. Me being here is almost sacrilegious.” Bianca answered.

“Huh, I’ll keep my mouth shut if you do. Now, what can I get you, youngsters?”

Chris ordered without looking at the menu, while Bianca chose crepes with chocolate sauce and whipped cream, and a strawberry milkshake. It was a bit awkward, to begin with, but Chris quickly loosened her up by telling her that he was just a man having coffee and waffles with a woman. She had blushed so hard when he commented on how pretty she loved in navy.

“What kind of job do you have?” Chris asked curiously.

“I write articles for a motivational blog.” She answered, blushing again. “Not as exciting as yours, but it’s a job.”

“My job has its ups and downs as well. Don’t you like yours?”

“No really. But it’s better than nothing.”

“What is your dream job then?”

“I would love to write movie manuscripts. I got a foot inside years ago, but then my mum got sick and I had to move back home.”

“You can still write scripts from home.”

“I’ve tried. Nobody wants to hire me, I’m too un-experienced or my writing is just not good enough.”

“You really shouldn’t let yourself down like that. How about I look at some of the things you’ve written? Then you can let me be the judge on the fact if your writing is good or bad.”

Bianca tried putting her work down, again. She didn’t want anyone to ever read her scripts ever again. Someone had already done that and shot them down, brutally was the kindest word she could think of.

Chris was relentless. It took him a few months, but he finally got you to send him a manuscript you had written years ago. He read everything you sent and gave you some positive and negative feedback. A year into your friendship he got you a meeting with a famous scriptwriter, who wanted you to come work for him, so you quit your old boring job and finally started doing what you loved.

It took another year before Bianca could move out of her mother’s house, and it took a lot of convincing before her mother would let her leave, but you succeeded by promising to come home for Sunday dinners.

Life couldn’t be any better, except for the growing feelings you had for Chris. Your support, your friend, your mentor. He had helped you so much over the past two years that you were unsure of how to tell him about your feelings.

“Hey B, earth to B.” Chris chuckled and waved a hand in front of her face. Bianca snapped out of the dream she was having.

“What?” She asked.

“You zoned out pretty hard, went to outer space or something?”

“Or something.” She mumbled and took a gulp of her iced coffee. “I’m sorry, what did you want to ask me?”

“My mom is having a barbecue on Saturday; would you like to come?”

“Of course, what should I bring?”

“You know my mom, there’ll be plenty of food.”

Saturday

Bianca did bring her mother’s amazing potato salad to the barbecue. She was brought up that you didn’t come to a barbecue empty-handed. She laughed and enjoyed herself with Chris’ family, who all had come to love her and treated her as one of their own, which Bianca appreciated.

Chris drove her home that evening, as she had one too many glasses of wine. He helps her into her flat, which was quite hard, as she was giggling and not cooperating at all. It took him 10 minutes to get her inside, another 20 minutes to get her coaxed into bed. He put a glass of water and two aspirin on her nightstand. He looked at her sleeping form. Her lips slightly parted. Her hands resting under her cheek. He brushed a stray hair out of her face, making her face scrunch before relaxing again. He let out a small chuckle before standing to leave. Bianca grabbed his wrist in her sleep.

“Don’t go, stay with me, don’t leave me.” She mumbled. Chris smiled, but he took off his jeans and shirt to lie next to her. He gathered her into his arms, just wanting to hold her and keep her close to him. His protective instincts kicking in.

“I love you, Chris,” Bianca grumbled and moved to her other side. Chris heard her clearly. He kissed her forehead, went to sleep with a lighter heart and a smile on his lips.

The next morning

Bianca awoke with a raging headache. It felt like her head was about to explode; the pounding was excruciating. Then a delicious aroma of bacon and coffee reached her nose. She noticed the water and aspirin on her nightstand. A smile spread on her face. She put on her robe and walked towards the kitchen, where Chris was preparing a batch of scrambled eggs.

“Smells amazing in here,” Bianca said and grabbed a piece of crispy bacon. Chris turned around and smiled widely.

“Anything for the snoring princess.” He teased.

“I don’t snore!”

“You sounded like a tractor. Took me forever to fall asleep.”

“You could hear me from the guest room?”

“No.”

Then it dawned on Bianca that she had asked Chris not to leave her in her drunken sleepy state.

“Oh god. What have I done?” She mumbled into her hands, hiding her blushing face. Chris just chuckled at her. He put down the spatula and moved the eggs from the heat. He wrapped his strong hands around her wrist and pulled her hands away, so he could look into her beautiful eyes.

“I love you too.” He whispered. Her eyes widened in shock. He just kept smiling and bent down so their lips were mere centimetres apart. He was letting her take the last step.

Bianca let out a big sigh, then cupped the back of Chris’ head and crashed her lips to his. It was an amazing first kiss. Heat was spreading through their bodies, the air was electric between them, and not even the thunderous storm that was beginning outside could break them apart.

“Do you believe in fate?” Bianca asked.

“That you were meant to crash into me with a supermarket cart? Definitely yes, I do believe in that specific fateful encounter.” Chris smiled, which earned him a light smack on his chest. He just kissed her senseless. “Be mine?”

“Forever.”

#Chris Evans #Oh man #Chris Evans x OFC #Chris x OFC #Do you believe in fate?#Chris Evans x female OFC #Chris x female OFC #Fanfiction #My story #Mine #Short story #I need a drink #chris evans fanfic

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thevoilinauttheory · 5 years ago

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Never-Ending Survey | Maximiloix

Tagged by @elegie-de-sang! Thank you so much, and thank you for your patience! It’s been a while since I got this orz

Tagging: uhh... anyone who has wanted to do this and hasn’t! Please! Do! It! And tag me! I want to see all of your lovely characters!

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Maximiloix Soleil Voilinaut

NICKNAME: (Hates all of his nicknames) Max [by most], Maxie [by Caromont].

AGE: 109

BIRTHDAY: 28th Sun of the 1st Astral Moon

ETHNIC GROUP: Elezen

NATIONALITY: Ishgardian

LANGUAGE/S: Common, Old Ishgardian, Old Sharlayan, Dragonspeak (to a degree, his pronunciation is horrible), Sign Language; in the process of teaching himself Far Eastern languages and dialects; is familiar with Ilsabardian words and terms, unable to speak the language fluently.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Pansexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Panromantic

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: It’s complicated. Legally, he’s single.

HOME TOWN / AREA: Ishgard, Coerthas

CURRENT HOME: Mist, Limsa Lominsa

PROFESSION: Teacher, Aetherologist, Historian

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: Unnaturally white with hints of brown. Base of neck length, kind of wavy. Very well groomed and taken care of.

EYES: One is a whitish-silver, the other is a light teal. Almond shaped, with constant bags under them.

FACE: Squared, angular jaw. High cheekbones.

LIPS: Kinda average for his face shape and size, always wears lipstick.

COMPLEXION: Tanned from outdoor work, usually on the paler side.

BLEMISHES: Aside from the bags under his eyes, he has very few visible blemishes.

SCARS: A lot. Mostly covering his chest and back. The most noticeable ones are the thin scar along his cheek, and a nasty deformation on his right arm.

TATTOOS: Geometrical patterns are tattooed around his entire body, everywhere except his face, to help him cast magic easier and more efficiently.

HEIGHT: 7′4′‘

WEIGHT: ~200lbs.

BUILD: Lanky and frail looking. He has muscle due to his time as a logger and Templar, but he is lacking in physical strength with his old age.

FEATURES: Long and well kept fingernails, well-groomed. All other prominent features have already been stated.

ALLERGIES: Deathly allergic to mushrooms.

USUAL HAIR STYLE: Well washed and maintained, looks very soft. It is usually kept loose. On rare occasions, it will be tied back to keep it from getting in his face while he works.

USUAL FACE LOOK : Annoyed, irritated, and angry.

USUAL CLOTHING: Does not have much of a closet - or he does, and he prefers to wear the same thing everyday. Garishly long white robes, tight black pants, black high-heeled boots, and a black eyepatch.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR/S: Drowning, being buried alive, being alone, being forgotten, losing his friends and family, powerlessness.

ASPIRATION/S: To correct his many mistakes, and hopefully become on good terms with his family. Or at least speaking terms.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Protective, inquisitive, friend to the poor man. He *does* know how to have fun, I swear.

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Almost constantly annoyed or irritated at something; power-hungry; selfish; will not hesitate to throw anyone under him when it comes to gaining new power and knowledge.

TEMPERAMENT: Choleric / Melancholic

SOUL TYPE/S: 16% Educator / 15% Thinker / 12% Leader

ANIMAL/S: Falcon.

VICE HABIT/S: Alcoholism, Self-Martyrdom

FAITH: Halone, apparently.

GHOSTS?: Believes in them to a degree.

AFTERLIFE?: Kind of?

REINCARNATION?: A more plausible and sensible option after death.

POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: Absolutely loathes people of noble birth, unless proven themselves to *not* be assholes. Stays on the side of the poor man, and will fight for their rights.

EDUCATION LEVEL: While he doesn’t know everything, he does know a lot for someone who’s education level is “I learned how to read”. There were no schools for him to attend as a child, so he learned through experience, traveling, and reading.

FAMILY.

FATHER : Adelnard Voilinaut

MOTHER : Genevieve Voilinaut

SIBLINGS : He is the eldest of 9 - here’s a list.

EXTENDED FAMILY: He has a lot of children and extended family members, and here’s a list as well!

NAME MEANING/S: Based off the Common, Eorzean, name, Maximillion - which means “Greatest Rival”. (Also I just used the random name generator and went “what a cool ass name” until I learned how to pronounce it.)

HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: None, in-game.

FAVORITES.

BOOK: Will never admit it, but thoroughly enjoys raunchy romance novels. Good luck finding his collection.

DEITY: Halone.

HOLIDAY: The Starlight Celebration. It gives him a reason to (begrudgingly - to keep up appearances) give gifts to people.

MONTH: Likely the 6th Umbral Moon (December)- not only the month of his favorite holiday and season; but it was the month he met Caromont as well.

SEASON: Winter.

PLACE: Says Ishgard, but really wherever his family and friends are.

WEATHER: Loves snow, maybe not blizzards, but definitely show showers.

SOUND / S: Silence, tea kettle boiling, pages of books flipping.

SCENT / S: Coerthan cedar; Dravanian Lilies; Furymint.

TASTE / S: Furymint, black tea - lots of salt.

FEEL / S: Wool and mink. Sanded down and polished wood; cold stone.

ANIMAL / S: Likes animals, will not own any. Falcons are his favorite.

NUMBER: 3,582. Specific, but there’s a reason behind it.

COLORS: White, blue, gold.

EXTRA.

TALENTS: Magic and all things magical in nature; the ability to learn new things quickly.

BAD AT: Focusing on anything that is not studying or interesting to him; cooking; can’t swim; bad at dealing with people - even worse if the person is upset.

TURN ONS: Major turn ons include having his hair pulled on, and being embarrassed in public or in front of others. He is attracted to intelligence and someone he can lean on; being attractive is a plus.

TURN OFFS: Needy, or greedy for his attention. Displays low intelligence in situations that do not call for it. Sexually, does not like preforming oral - does not like mouth stuff, whatsoever.

HOBBIES: Reading, teaching, studying new things, traveling/adventuring.

TROPES: Jerk with a Heart of Gold; Big Ego, Hidden Depths; Villain with Good Publicity

QUOTES:

“He is not yours to burn - get out, GET OUT!”

“I have not felt such exhilaration in years…”

“I am not stupid, I am mad. You were a fool to trust me in the first place.”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : If you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?

A1 : It would probably be one of those villain origin stories, either of his life growing up; or it would be him slowly going mad - like my Memories!AU. It would be very dark, definitely an R movie, maybe even something horror-esque. As for titles? /shrug I’m no good with those.

Q2 : What would their soundtrack/score sound like?

A2 : Definitely piano, organ, and harpsichord based. Maybe a little violin and cello. Something soft and somewhat haunting.

Q3 : Why did you start writing this character?

A3 : Ha... ha... I don’t want to admit that it gave me a reason to be mean to people lmao. I’m generally a super nice person, a people pleaser, and a rug that everyone walks over. Max’s character was supposed to reflect a couple of things - if I handled my guilt worse than I have irl, and if he were the sarcastic, rude, bastard I have no heart to be.

Q4 : What first attracted you to this character?

A4 : ^^ The above. Max was originally supposed to be young, naive, clumsy, and an anxiety ridden mess; and for the love of god, do not get me started on his original design. He became the opposite of those things, and Lothaire took up the mantle of his original personality.

Q5 : Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5 : Max is an absolute fucking asshat that can’t let things be. Let dead things be dead, kind of thing. Can’t move on. He will definitely step on his friends and family if it meant gaining more power.

Q6 : What do you have in common with your muse?

A6 : The guilt of believing that we are the cause of the death to a loved one. I’m pretty sure I handled it better. We also have a lot of internalized rage.

Q7 : How does your muse feel about you?

A7 : lmao, he probably hates me. I *am* the source of all of his angst and anger, tbh. His life has been a mess and it is literally all my fault.

Q8 : What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ?

A8 : Caromont, Shango, and Amarice - definitely. All three are people who push his ability to be a better person.

Q9 : What gives you inspiration to write your muse ?

A9 : Max is one of those characters that everyday is inspiration for him - it’s just finding the motivation to write. He’s not necessarily my longest running XIV character, but he is certainly one of my favorites to RP.

Q10 : How long did this take you to complete ?

A10 : A while - I lost motivation, forgot it was in my drafts, then got it done during my entire shift at work lmao.

A big ol’ shoutout to @shangomango and @amarice-sovald for their characters and helping shape Max into what he is today.

#tagged answers #about: Maximiloix Voilinaut #the cold truth: tagged

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meetthetank · 6 years ago

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Maled[I]ctum pt. 2

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationship: 4S/A2 (NieR: Automata) Characters: A2 (NieR: Automata), 4S (NieR: Automata), Anemone (NieR: Automata), Original Machine Additional Tags: bloodborne references, Blood and Gore, Robogore, little bit of eldritch nonsense, Hallucinations, Nightmares, A2 has big guilt, Post-Ending E (NieR: Automata), the smut is in chapter 2 for those who are impatient, i understand horny priorities, Hurt/Comfort

Dismantling the machine wreckage proves to be a more complicated affair than previously thought. In addition to its immense size, a large portion of the scrap is contaminated by the strange organic matter, rendering it unusable. Most of the Resistance swarms the area shortly after recovering an unconscious 4S from the wreck, along with the bizarre machine creature’s body.

He’s lucky his injuries aren’t as bad as they feel. Without the Bunker and a steady supply of new bodies and parts, the repair process takes two days. The Resistance medics and 9S work together to open up 4S and set some of his displaced components. Nothing major needs to be replaced, much to his relief, but calibrating his fine motor functions comes with a few hiccups. Something must have been knocked loose during that fight.

The moment repairs are done, 4S tears around camp asking if anyone has seen A2. He expects the repeated negative answers, but that doesn’t quell the tension building in his gut. 9S offers to help him look, but he declines. Knowing A2, she’d only be more frightened if anyone else aside from a select few went looking for her.

It isn’t unusual for A2 to disappear for a day or two, and normally 4S is happy to let her be, but this time...the way she looked at him...It doesn’t sit right. She went through something far worse than being held captive by that monster. Once he asks practically everyone at the main Resistance camp he sets out on his own.

4S searches the area near the forest castle and A2’s usual haunts. The secluded places she frequents when she needs a quiet moment to herself show no trace of her being there for a long time. No tracks, no machine corpses. Nothing. Pod 035 picks up a faint sign of activity, but it’s old and far past the forest. He’s in no condition to be tearing through the denser woods looking for someone who doesn’t want to be found.

Two more days pass before 4S returns, despondent, to the Resistance camp. Just as he suspects A2 hadn’t stopped by at all, but the improbability of it all doesn’t stop the foolish hope he had as he entered the camp. He sits on a bench in the small rest area near the jukebox, listening to the twanging of some ancient human ballad.

He doesn’t notice 9S until he sits in the spot next to him. 4S jumps a little at 9S’ sudden presence but gives him a little nod shortly after.

“Still no sign of A2?” 9S asks.

4S shakes his head, “Nothing. No trail, no signals...I’m really worried about her.”

“What she lacks in everything else she makes up for in strength,” says 9S followed by a sigh and a shudder, “She’ll be okay.”

He manages to smile a bit, “I know but...she was really shaken up by...something. I want to help her but I don’t want her to feel smothered…”

“Yeah, I know the feeling…” 9S mutters, his gaze wandering to 2B as she lifts an absurdly heavy box with ease.

4S slumps in his seat and buries his head in his hands, “I get the feeling she’d never come back if I confronted her now, but…”

“You don’t want her to end up hurting herself.”

“Yeah...She’s,” 4S sighs again, then goes quiet for a long time, “...I don’t know if she’ll come back after this one…”

A lump forms in his throat as he says that, as if the words had a physical weight to them. He didn’t want to admit to himself the possibility, but it’s time for him to be honest with himself. In his head, he believed that she would be attached to him enough for that alone to bring her back his way, but...Their relationship is a bit complicated, or ambiguous to say the least.

9S puts his arm around 4S shoulders, “Of course she’ll come back. She was on the run for...Six years, was it? That can’t be a life she wants to return to.”

“I hope you’re right, Nines.”

“Here,” 9S says as he stands up, “Why don’t you help me out today? Anemone wants me to start looking at that machine creature today. Could help you take your mind off things for a while?”

4S hesitates for a moment. The memory of that...thing he and A2 fought sends chills down his spine. He has no great desire to come face to face with its malformed corpse any time soon, but 9S does have a point.

“Sure, I can lend a hand.”

It isn’t often that the medical equipment is repurposed, even temporarily, for a task away from the main Resistance camp. With materials being as limited as they are, and without the support of another group like YorHa, they need to use whatever they can. Considering this is a major discovery when it comes to machine evolution theories, Anemone allowed for a considerable amount of tools and personnel to be devoted to this.

Unfortunately, all those tools and personnel are under the command of Jackass, so 4S and 9S wait until she throws out everyone for being incompetent and then gets distracted by one of her insane personal projects.

The setup is reminiscent of a mad scientist’s lair in an old human story. Fitting, considering who was overseeing this. Various tools and recording equipment lie scattered without any care or reason, all surrounding a large table holding the machine’s corpse covered with a tarp.

4S and 9S spend a few minutes cleaning up and organizing their equipment while idly chatting about old times. They had rarely worked together in the field while YorHa was active, but the scanners were all fairly close friends in one way or another. Though, 4S had always been on the edge of that group, nowhere near the social butterfly that 9S was. He can’t help the twinge of sadness that creeps into his voice when he mentions his time in relative isolation while he was doing deep field reconnaissance.

“Right,” 9S begins, eager to switch gears for both their sakes, “Let’s get started.”

It takes their combined efforts to pull the tarp off of the body, sending the stench of rotting flesh billowing through the whole tent.

“Ugh!” 4S gags and covers his face, “Gods, it smells worse than it was alive.”

“I’ve never seen this kind of growth on a machine before,” 9S says as he covers his face with a clean towel and begins a preliminary scan of the corpse, “Aside from those two command units, Adam and Eve.”

“I thought those were one of a kind?”

9S shrugs, “It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for the machines left on Earth to try and replicate past evolutionary paths. But this one is a lot different.”

As 4S begins to separate the growth on the creature’s arm from its body, he replays the encounter and the state he found A2 in his head, “I’ve never seen a machine do things like this one could. Have you seen the Pod records?”

9S shakes his head, “I haven’t had the time. Here, why don’t you start working on that piece while I go over your footage?”

With a quick wave of his hand, 4S commands Pod 035 to display a video feed for 9S.

At first, the growth appears to be just a simple mass of metal and tissue with the occasional piece of bone. Each piece of anything that isn’t soft tissue or connected to the central metal bone is carefully cut away and placed onto a tray nearby. It seems to be only random bits and pieces of machine scrap until 4S come across a strange shape underneath layers of warped muscular tissue.

Unlike the fractured and rough textures of its counterparts, this object is smooth and rounded. A few hairline splits zigzag across its surface, yet it stays together as 4S shifts it around to cut away the connective tissue surrounding it. Once most of the flesh is cut away, 4S pries the object out with a firm tug.

A smooth, diminutive skull sits in his hands, gazing at him with hauntingly vacant sockets. It bears some resemblance to a machine head. The bolts next to the optical sockets, serial numbers and machine script carved into its surface, and unique alloy betray its true nature. However, it’s eerily android in its appearance. Or rather, eerily human. A row of half formed teeth, some pointed and some blunt, deep nasal and optical cavities, and an oblong shape show more similarities to androids than any other machine.

But as 9S pointed out before, there were two machines that were vastly different from the rest not too long ago.

4S sets the skull down on the tray, next to the other tiny, misshapen bones he had extracted from the growth. A clavicle, two humeruses, six ribs, pelvis, and an assortment of vertebrae form a sickly small skeleton.

“Hey, 4S?”

A jolt runs down his spine as he snaps back to reality, “Yeah...yeah what’s up?”

9S glances at the grim display on the tray before continuing, “I finished going over your footage.”

“Oh. Well did you see anything odd? I mean, besides everything.”

9S pulls up a stool and takes a seat near the creature’s stomach, “At first,” he begins as he starts a scan of the machine’s body, “I thought that it was an attempted copy of the Adam and Eve units, and looking at the…what you’ve extracted so far, that theory is partially right.”

4S raises an eyebrow, “...But?”

“But…” he looks down and takes a deep breath, “But there’s more in line with another machine I’ve encountered.”

“What?”

“When I handed over that enemy data back when...back a while ago, there was one bit of data that I didn’t give you because it was just…” he takes a deep breath and shudders, “I didn’t want to think it was real.”

As much as 4S’ curiosity burns in his head, he doesn’t press 9S further. The discomfort is visible in the way his eyes dart around to anything, how his eyebrows knit together, and how he grips the edge of the table.

“Listen, 4S…” he begins after a bout of tense silence, “If-...When A2 comes back, if she seems...off, be careful. When 2B and I fought that thing in the sewers, something...happened to her, and when we got back to the Resistance camp she…” Again, 9S shudders and blushes, though that might have been 4S’ imagination, “Just be careful, okay?”

4S nods, “Of course. Don’t worry about me.”

“Good.” he sighs again, “...Let’s take apart the rest of this thing. I’ll give you the enemy data when we’re done.”

A2 knows she shouldn’t feel this deep shame as she lingers in the shadows of the forest zone. Just a year ago, the thought of returning somewhere she ran from was insane; now, she’s slinking back to the castle as if she’s done something wrong.

She hasn’t done anything wrong...right?

No, of course not. She just needed some time away from...everything.

…

Gods, she was such a coward.

It wasn’t just that, in the days since the fight on the beach, it’s felt like something was itching just inside her skull or under her skin. She’s lapsed into old self destructive habits as well, like picking at the dermal seams 4S spent so much time on.

4S…

Thinking about how worried he must be about her, what he might have gone through when looking for her, or what might happen when she comes back...It makes her stomach coil like a spring so tightly she starts shivering. A2 is no stranger to guilt, but it has been some time since the feeling caused a physical reaction in her.

As the crumbling facade of the castle comes into view A2 plays with the thought of turning back. Could she really face him after all this? Would things just...go back to normal? Did she even want that? She doesn’t know what she wants. Hell, she doesn’t even know if she wants to take another step forward. Her legs lock in place, and aside from a light shiver that runs through her body, she stands so still that a little boar comes up to her and sniffs at her foot. She shoos the boar away with a gentle kick, sending the little animal squealing back to the safety of the woods.

A2 takes a deep breath. No use delaying the inevitable any longer. She forces herself to walk. Just, one foot in front of the other, one step at a time. There isn’t any reason to be afraid. That doesn’t stop her from being terrified, though. She shuts her eyes and focuses on the sound of her footsteps on the crumbling stone pathway.

She expects 4S to come rushing down to her the moment she reaches the castle steps, but she only hears the soft songs of the birds that make their homes in the trees and tiny crevices in the walls. There isn’t even the echoes of him running errands, the groans of his jerry rigged terminals, or Pod 035’s made up language.

“Must be resting…” A2 mutters to herself.

Sure enough, there’s signs of activity through her home but 4S is nowhere to be found. The stray piles of supplies that she usually leaves lying around the entry hallway are all cleaned up and organized into bins and shelves nearby.

She meanders through the castle like a spectre, floating from room to room with no real goal in mind. Not looking for anything, not searching for a goal, just wandering. She flips through books in the library, accidentally knocks over some dusty suits of armor, and fiddles with anything she can to find to keep her mind from running a mile a minute.

It isn’t long, however, for those distractions to run out and eventually A2 finds herself at the threshold of her small bedroom. Like the rest of the castle, all of her stuff is rearranged and cleaned. Even her bed is made, but it isn’t the bed itself that disturbs her. Perhaps disturbed isn’t the right word, but the neatly folded set of clothes similar to the torn rags she wears now makes her feel...strange.

She rolls the cotton of the shirt in her fingers. Exactly the same as the one she wears now, albeit not torn and bloodied. It smells a bit musty, like it’s been sitting out for a few days. Her chest tightens a little, but she changes into the new clothes regardless. They stick to her grimy skin and torn seams. She mentally kicks herself for not washing first thing once she got home.

...Home…

The realization hits her like a punch from a goliath. She has a home. Something to come back to, a safe place to let her guard down and relax.

Someone to…

She curls her hand into a fist, bunching up the fabric of her shirt. A weird tightness forms in her throat and chest it dawns on her that she’s being watched.

With wide, wary eyes, she turns back to the doorway to see 4S just...standing there. Watching her. He looks surprisingly calm, despite everything, but there’s a tension in his face that even someone as unobservant as A2 can pick up on.

A2 looks at the floor, suddenly far more interested in the brickwork than him.

“...Hey,” she says, the word catching in her throat.

His green eyes dart about, studying every detail about her that he could as quickly as possible. He lingers on the fresh wounds that begin to stain her new shirt, the way her shoulders slump with exhaustion, and the weariness in her own expression.

With great gentleness, he speaks, “...Are you hurting?”

“I’m fine-...” A2 stops herself short as a sharp pain shoots through her arm, “...I’ve been better.”

4S approaches her slowly, his dark eyebrows knitting together, “Here, let me help.”

The moment his hands touch her she flinches away, causing 4S to do the same. There’s hesitation in his grip as he lightly pulls her towards the bed and sits her down on it. A2 could swear she feels his hands shaking.

His fingers ghost over her injuries and torn skin seam as he takes stock of what ails her physically. He mutters his findings to himself while A2 stares at their feet, her head hanging low. She lets him move her arms and body as he cleans the dried blood that’s caked around her skin seams.

“Does…” 4S says, his touch lingering on her arms, “Does anything hurt internally? Any pain when you move?”

A2 shakes her head, “Just a bit sore.”

4S nods once, then allows a tense silence to fall between them. Neither one looks at the other, and neither one wants to think about why.

After moments where nothing but the stale breeze passes between them, A2 speaks up.

“I think...I’m just gonna lie down for a bit.”

“Alright. Call for me if you need anything...Okay?”

“Yeah...Of course.”

As she gets settled into bed, 4S allows himself a quick glance backwards before leaving her to her thoughts.

For a week they do this dance. With the exception of grafting new skin onto her wounds, 4S and A2 avoid each other. Sometimes, she sees him in the corner of her eye only for him to brush past with only a mumbled apology or for him to duck back out of her view. When she asks him about it during the hour or so they see each other, he waves if off as a coincidence or just making sure she’s okay. The cadence and waver in his voice tips her off to his real motive. He is checking on her, but he’s making sure she hasn’t run off again.

She can’t shake the guilt, something that seems like a constant for her. It starts eating away at her nerves and her resolve. How long would things continue like this? Would they stay this way until they both drift apart? How much longer would it be until she’s alone again. The visions and the fear from that machine creep back into her chest and constrict her lungs. It’s such a similar feeling to...before. When she watched Number 4 smile at her one last time.

Only this time she can control the outcome.

It’s much less dire, of course. 4S is in no danger of dying in a fiery explosion, but A2 feels as if she’s going to explode if things don’t go back to the comfortable and mundane. She knows 4S won’t come to her, he’s too cautious. He knows she’s skittish when it comes to...feelings, and for that she’s grateful. He’ll let her come to him when she’s ready to talk, and it might be the point of no return very soon. Whether she’s ready or not, she has to do this.

Around this time of day 4S is tinkering with one project or another in his room. Normally A2 leaves him to his work, but this is something akin to an emergency. Besides, he’s probably not working on something important or dangerous. He has a more level head on his shoulders than 9S.

A2 hesitates at the wooden door to his room, grinding her teeth as she fights with herself. It’s absurd, she already has her hand on the door and now she thinks about backing down? She’s fought with worse things than her own feelings and memories. This would be nothing. 4S is reasonable, he won’t freak out at her about any of this.

Her knock on the door echoes through the stone halls, and the few seconds before she hears 4S’ footsteps on the other side feel like an eternity. The door swings inward, revealing a grease-stained 4S staring at her with bewildered green eyes.

“A2? What’s wrong, is everything okay?” he asks, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

“I’m fine. I just…” she sighs and shuffles her way into his room, “Do you have a second to talk?”

His eyebrows shoot up, then return to normal a moment later, “Of course.”

4S gestures for her to sit on his bed (more of a cot in truth) while he pulls the chair from his workbench over and wipes his hands and face off with a rag. She pulls her knees close to her chest and curls up as tight as she can. Something to quell the shivers that emanate from her gut.

“I wanted to talk about the shit that happened with that weird machine…” she mumbles, avoiding eye contact, “I just...don’t know where to start.”

He watches her expressions shift from anger, to sadness, and back within the span of a split second, “Maybe...When I found you, you looked like you were in some kind of trance. What was that? What was happening to you?”

A2 winces at the memory, “The damn thing hijacked me. Made me see things...feel things that weren’t there. It made me…,” she shudders, “It must have messed with every sensor that still works.”

4S shuffles closer to her, “What did it make you see?”

“Its…,” she groans and buries her face in her hands, “It...It made me see Number 4. The whole squad. They…,”

He takes one of her hands in his, “It’s okay…” he mutters gently and rubs her hand.

“They tore me apart.” she says in a lifeless voice, her eyes glassy and unfocused, “The visions tore me apart piece by piece. They drowned me, beat me, blamed…” she can’t stop the tears from welling up, “They blamed their deaths on me...and they’re right.”

“A2…”

“They were right. If I wasn’t a coward, if I fought with them-”

“You’d be dead too, A2.” 4S says sternly, holding her hand just a bit tighter, “You’d be dead along with them.”

“But-”

“No. I won’t sit by and let you blame yourself anymore for what happened in the past. I don’t care what that machine made you see or made you think you saw, but none of that was your fault and none of them blame you for what happened!”

A2 opens her mouth and shuts it just as quickly as she tries to formulate some sort of counter. She tries to draw her hands close to her body but 4S’ grip remains strong and holds them in place. His green eyes hold her gaze even as she tries to look at anything but him. Anything to avoid showing weakness, anything to not break down.

She fails spectacularly.

Tears pool in her eyes and spill over within seconds. Her synthetic muscles give out all at once as she collapses in a heap in 4S’ arms. Brutal, silent sobs rip through her body with such intensity that she begins to shake and shudder. 4S holds onto her as tight as he can without hurting her. He rubs her shoulders and back with a soothing yet heavy hand, while his other hand combs through her short hair. Gentle refermations of her safety and soft whispers seem to calm her quaking body after a moment. She grips onto his shirt as if it’s the only thing keeping her afloat.

A2’s breathing starts to even out and at first 4S thinks that she’s beginning to wind down, but then her quiet sniffling turns to growls. Her nails dig into the skin of 4S’ chest, and 9S’ warning starts to play over and over in his head. Despite himself, fear begins to worm its way through his gut. A2 is strong. Far stronger than he is. If something went wrong, if something possessed her to, she could kill him by barely lifting a finger.

Yet he takes hold of her trembling hands and the low snarls in the back of her throat stop. Her hands tremble in his, and her wide, fearful eyes let him know that none of that was intentional. 4S leans forward and rests his forehead on hers with her hands still clasped tightly in his.

“Hey, look at me,” he whispers, “A2 look at me.”

She tries to look at anything but him to no avail. Everything in her body tells her to run away. Get away from these bad feelings and shitty memories and hide in the wilderness until she breaks down for good. But she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want to leave him, she doesn’t want to be alone again. She can’t be alone again.

Slowly, her eyes meet his. In her head she prepares for the inevitable flashbacks those deep green eyes of his give her, but instead of seeing the eyes of Number 4, his face remains his own.

“You’re okay, A2,” he mutters to her, “I promise I’m not going to let anything hurt you.”

She snorts and rubs at her puffy red eyes, “Idiot, I should be protecting you.”

“There she is,” 4S breaks out in a smile, “There’s that brash moron.”

“Shut up.”

4S gets caught in their moment kisses A2 on the cheek, just beneath her eye. This isn’t the first time they’ve kissed, not by a long shot, but it is the first time that it’s felt so...natural? He supposes that��s the word for it. In the past it had been bouts of passion that broke free of restraints on both their sides, but it never went further than that. This time the simple gesture caused a comforting warmth to bloom in his chest. Judging by A2’s tired smile, she felt something similar.

“A2…” he begins, their closeness loosening his desire to hold back what’s on his mind, “I know that...I know I’m not Number 4 but-”

She pulls back from him, her brows knitting together, “Stop.”

“What?”

“Stop comparing yourself to her,” an icy determined glare warps her expression. For the first time in weeks, strength returns to her, “Number 4 is gone. You’re not her, you’re never going to be, and....I don’t want you to be. I want you to be you.”

4S tries to blink away the tears, “It only took a near death experience, huh?”

“Oh, shut up!” she shouts. She slugs him in the shoulder playfully and puffs out her cheeks after he catches her face in his hands again. “You’re an ass.”

“Hey, you’re not doing anything to stop me,” teases 4S. He kisses her cheek once again.

He immediately regrets saying that. In a show of speed and strength, A2 pulls him into a tight hug and flings them both onto the bed. 4S struggles, but he’s no match for the combat model’s strength. She holds him down as they laugh at themselves and the absurd turn their heavy conversation took. A2 digs her knuckles into his scalp to the sounds of his protesting as he flails his arms and legs in a wild attempt to break free.

Eventually she lets him go, the fatigue of an outburst of emotion catching up with her body. She fails to suppress a yawn and 4S chuckles at her sudden exhaustion. He rolls off of her and curls up against her side as she settles into bed.

“Tired?” he asks.

A2 nods, “Mhm...Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Okay.” 4S starts to sit up, “I’ll let you rest.”

He’s about to stand up from the bed, when A2’s hand grabs onto his wrist and tugs him back down.

“Huh?”

“S…,” she seems to choke on her own words and looks uncharacteristically vulnerable, “Can you...stay?”

“...Of course,” he says with a warm smile.

Sleeping with A2 is...a full body experience. 4S had his expectations, sweetly snuggled up against her and curled in her arms. Or her in his, either way would work for him. Instead, he’s treated to erratic movements, constant tossing and turning, and nearly being shoved off of the bed multiple times. Yet despite this, they end up in a semi-comfortable position for both of them, although 4S believes it was entirely by accident. Sharing a bed was, in truth, something they would have to learn how to do.

4S is unsure how much time has actually passed by the time he starts to wake up, though it couldn’t have been more than a few hours judging by the fact that his Pod’s alarm hadn’t gone off yet. A2 remains asleep, wrapped around him with her chest pressing against his back. Her breathing is light and steady, and tickles at the back of his neck.

She’s so...warm. The way her hands mold to the shape of his chest and stomach…

A deep, tightening pain in his gut makes him flinch, and brings him to agonizing consciousness. Glancing down at the odd bulge in the sheets, just between his legs, reveals source of his discomfort.

What a useless feature… 4S muses to himself.

Carefully, 4S shuffles out of A2’s arms, doing all he can to avoid waking her and to avoid letting her hands drift further down. He winces with each movement, even the fabric of his shorts rubbing against his erection sends jolts up his spine.

The moment he’s free of A2’s hold, he rises from the bed centimeter by centimeter so as not to shift the ratty mattress too much. All he has to do is make it out of the room without waking her and make his way to somewhere secluded to take care of this issue. Of course he could always attempt to sleep it off, but with how awake he is at the moment he doesn’t think it’ll be possible.

It’s only when success is nearly in his grasp that it is snatched away from him.

“Hey...Where’r you going?” A2’s grumbles in a raspy voice heavy with sleep.

Synthetic blood rushes up to his face one moment and then back down the next, “Uh...J-just going to stretch my legs a bit.”

“...What’s wrong. You sound nervous.”

Oh , of all the times, why did it have to be now that she learns to be observant?

“I’m fine,” 4S tries to maintain an even level to his voice.

“Why are you standing all hunched over like that?”

Her questions are just as pointed and cutting as her swords. 4S sighs. He always underestimates her intelligence, seeing as she’s not only a prototype model but a combat model as well. They’re not exactly known for being as capable as scanners when it comes to...really anything that isn’t killing. Yet she’s pinpointed exactly what he’s trying to hide. The heavy, almost icy tone to her voice convinces him that she doesn’t need him to explain his current state, but instead beckons him to come forward about it.

“Come here.”

Her sudden confidence makes him shiver.

4S turns back to her and returns to the bed with slow, plodding steps. The way her icy blue eyes roam over his body make him feel exposed, naked, despite being fully clothed. There’s a shift in her expression as he approaches though. At first she looks at him like an old world predator eyes a slab of meat, but as he sits on the edge of the bed the confidence falls away piece by piece.

“A2…”

His breath is heavy in his throat as he reaches out to cup her face in one of his hands. Her warmth is infectious, her breath just as heavy as his. Despite the way her eyes hold his with an intensity he’s rarely seen outside of battle, he can feel the subtle way she shivers with each breath.

“Are you...sure?” he asks, hoping that he’s understanding what all of this means. In the past she’s been reluctant to even touch at moments, why is she suddenly doing this?

Was this what 9S meant by strange behavior?

A2 nods, “Yeah...But I um...How does...this...start?”

A wave of relief hits him. She’s not under some strange control or in a damaged frame of mind. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he took advantage of her like this.

4S smiles, “Just follow my lead, okay?”

Their kiss starts out tender, soft even. A2 recoils back, but leans into it only moments later. Her hands start to wander around their bodies as if she’s not sure what to do with them. Without breaking their admittedly awkward kiss, 4S takes her hands in his and places one on his neck, and the other in his hair. Her fingers immediately hook into his curly hair and pull him closer than he thought possible. Heat rises in his gut once more, spurring him to push things further faster.

4S leans back against the bed’s headboard and pulls A2 onto his lap. For a minute or so, things continue much in the same way as they had before. Position aside, their kissing is rather tame. Chaste even. Simply savoring each other’s warmth and the way their mouths move in tandem. But there’s a desperate edge to A2, in the way she moves and her labored breathing. She wants more, she needs more. She just doesn’t know how to take it.

So, 4S parts his lips and in turn hers. With his tongue he tests her bit by bit, prodding at her lips, her teeth, her tongue, whatever he can reach. Her hand tightens in his hair to the point of discomfort, yet it doesn’t bother 4S in the slightest. In fact it seems to intensify just how good everything feels right now. A tiny whimper escapes from the back of his throat as she tugs on his hair a second time.

A2 suppresses a grunt, or a moan, or something in her throat. She grinds against him so slowly that 4S isn’t sure if she realizes what she’s doing. Carefully, he returns her motions, raising his hips to meet hers beat for beat in a clumsy rhythm. Fingernails dig into the skin of his neck when his teeth scrape against her lips, so he breaks their kiss to gently bite her lower lip.

She gasps, her breath ghosting over his face for a moment before he leans in and nibbles at the underside of her jaw. Another gasp as he slides one hand beneath her thin shirt and traces the outline of her muscles and lines of carbon plates barely concealed by synthetic flesh. A2 doesn’t normally shake in situations outside of life threatening combat, but her body trembles beneath his touch.

There’s a strange shift in A2’s movements when 4S begins to leave small bite marks down her neck and to her shoulder. He can feel the thundering of her pulse quicken as he clumsily grabs at her breasts. Between the blood roaring in his ears and the amplified sound of their bodies, he doesn’t hear the low rumbling from A2’s chest until it’s too late.

Her mouth traps his suddenly, pushing him back until his head smacks against the headboard. His shirt and shorts are all but torn from his body by A2’s desperate hands. The cool air of the castle makes him shiver all over. A groan catches in his throat but is quickly silenced by A2 climbing on top of him further. She practically towers over him now, ravaging his mouth and hungrily grinding down on his now exposed cock.

Like the flip of a switch, A2 goes from unsure to ravenous. Both her hands tangle themselves in his hair, holding him down and kissing up and down his neck. He feels the scrape of her teeth against one of the taught tendons in his neck once, twice, and then they clamp down around it. An intense jolt runs through his whole body. His back arches, hips thrust up, and a sharp whimper escapes him. She bites him again, worrying the skin of his neck between her teeth and eliciting more moans and cries from him.

4S isn’t sure when the tears start to form in his eyes, but his body becomes so overwhelmed with the pain and pleasure that it's the only reflex he can manage. He gulps down lungfuls of air the moment A2 pulls back off of him just a bit, removing the pressure from his chest. There’s something in A2’s eyes, something that 4S can’t place. Her eyes are dark, pupils blown wide and lids half closed. He’s never seen this look from her before and it makes him feel...strange. There’s fear, that one is easy to identify, but there’s also...excitement. His gut coils as A2 shuffles out of her tank top and shorts.

This was really happening, wasn’t it…

4S always pictured this being more planned and careful, and without the fear for his life that nags in the back of mind. Of course he wants this, and he knows A2 wants this.

But did he want this to go so fast?

A2 tugs him up to her lips by his hair.

Oh god yes he wants this.

He moans against her mouth and ruts his hips into hers. There’s a brief but powerful sensation that shoots up his spine when his cock presses against the space between her legs. A2 must have felt something similar as she groans against his mouth. One of her hands rakes down his stomach and grips onto his cock far too tightly.

“Ah!!”

A2 recoils back, that dark look in her eyes fading instantly, “Shit! Are you okay?!”

“Yeah-...Yeah I’m okay…” he pants, “Just...gentle. Be gentle with...that.”

When that half-lidded look doesn’t come back immediately, 4S pulls her down for a quick kiss and takes her hand in his. He guides her hand back down to his cock and starts to move it up and down as slowly as possible at first. Once she gains her confidence back his hand falls away only to rise back up again to tangle in her hair.

Most scanners do this sort of thing by themselves, but oh god does it feel so much better when someone else does it to him. Especially someone he cares about. He does his best not to jerk his hips into her hand too fast, and the exertion of self control makes him pant and sweat. In response A2 strokes him longer, harsher, pushing him to the point of pain again. He throws his head back against the pillows and lets out a long, loud moan that he’s sure he heard A2 laugh quietly at.

There’s a spot that A2 ghosts her thumb over that makes him almost scream, and the tight coils in his stomach threaten to unwind right then and there. It’s only through gritting his teeth and focusing on anything but how fucking good it all feels that he’s able to not come.

“A2…,” he says in between heavy pants, “A2, please…”

“What.”

He shoots her a scowl, though it isn’t as intimidating as he’d like since he’s blushing and sweaty, “What do you mean what,” he growls.

She smirks at him, that heavy, dark-eyed look returns, and she sinks down onto his cock without warning.

“F-Fuck!” he shouts, “A2!”

She hisses through her teeth as she adjusts to having him inside her. 4S is about to ask her if she’s okay but the words catch in his throat when she shifts her hips. He isn’t sure if his visual processors are failing or if A2 managed to hack him somehow, but he swears that stars and sparks fly across his eyes. He throws his head back into the pillows again and lets out a moan that’s much louder than he intends it to be.

“Where-...” 4S tries to say as she raises herself off of him and slides back down, “Where did you- Haa….Learn-...”

“What,” responds A2 in between pants, “You think your-...ngh...Your stash of h-...human mating behaviors are...Haaa...Secret?”

“Well...I did until now.”

A2 laughs a breathy laugh that sends waves of strange pleasure through both of their bodies, “Next time, label that file as something boring.”

“Ugh, just shut up and fuck me.”

They find their rhythm, clumsily and slowly, but eventually they fall in sync with each other. Every time A2 raises herself off of his cock, he pulls himself back so that all but the very tip remains in, only to slam their hips back together. Each time, A2 crushes her body against his harder and harder until he’s afraid that she might break his pelvic chassis. Well, not for long anyway. Once the wet and the hot overtake his mind again, the soreness fades into the background.

4S meets her beat for beat, thrust for thrust. He tries new angles and methods to try and force her to cry out in pleasure, much like he does. It’s...strangely awkward to him, to be the only one making noise. A rigid spot on the front of her walls makes her groan and gasp so he aims for that again and again and again, but it all falls to the wayside once his pace reaches a feaverish, desperate peak.

His hands latch onto her hips, fingernails digging into the curve of her waist and giving him the leverage he needs to thrust his cock deeper and deeper into her. Her hands grip his wrists, her chest heaves with each labored breath. The way her walls constrict around his dick lets him know that they’re both within sight of the end. For now.

4S’ mind devolves into simple lines of code. Single words, simple actions, and blinding speed. Anything higher than repeating the actions that bring him and A2 this intense pleasure are tossed aside.

Hunger. Need.

More.

M o r e

M o re moremoremoremoremoremoreMORe.

Suddenly, A2 gasps and grabs his shoulders so hard that he’s shaken from his stupor. Her whole body heaves with each breath she takes. 4S swears he can hear her teeth grinding against each other and the wanton moans she desperately tries to suppress. If he wasn’t consumed with primal repetition he might have tried to edge those sounds out of her, but it’s all he can do to keep himself from coming each time he thrusts into her.

4S slows to a crawl, letting himself linger inside of her. It takes all of his willpower to pull out once, twice, and on the third he can hold back no longer. All of the tension in his gut releases as A2 lets out this long breathy sound. She’s still holding the moans back, but he can’t contain the moan that echoes through their room. Something in the back of his mind tells him he should be embarrassed, but he could care less right now. He revels in the circuit-melting euphoria for as long as he can before he has to breathe and bring himself back to reality.

A2 looks down at him with dark, half-lidded eyes. Her face, flushed red, covered in sweat, is hidden by the white hair that clings to her skin.

He’s never seen anything more fascinating.

As she gracelessly flops onto the bed beside him, he can’t help but feel a twinge of disgust at the white, sticky mess that covers the bed and parts of their bodies. Maybe it’s a quirk with scanner models, but he hates being dirty.

He nudges A2 in the ribs with an elbow, and she cracks one eye open at him in a tired, half-hearted glare.

“We should clean up,” he says.

A2 just scoffs, and rolls over on her side, taking as many blankets as she can with her, “If you can carry me, go for it.”

4S sighs, and lays back against the sweat stained pillows.

He’s never been more infatuated with her.

#nier atuomata #nier automata fanfiction #A2 #4S #A24S

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pvcked · 6 years ago

Text

s u r v e y : d a r b y b e l l e m o n t p e l l i e r

written in purple gel pen. it be like that.

basic information

FULL NAME: darby belle montpellier PRONUNCIATION: DARH-bee bell mAHnt-pell-yer MEANING: without envy REASONING: darby belle was named after a beloved family dog who was tragically killed by an automobile the night before she was born. how… quaint. her mother insisted on adding “belle” to match her older sister, elody mae’s, “name flow”. her father never really approved, but he his second army deployment began just before her birth, so her mother went ahead and did it anyway. NICKNAME(S): darby, darbs, darby belle, belle, fruit loop, the singer from pelagia, dee, db. puck ( only by her late father ) PREFERRED NAME(S): darby, darby belle BIRTH DATE: march 3, 2001 AGE: 18 ZODIAC: pisces GENDER: cisfemale PRONOUNS: she/her ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual NATIONALITY: american. ETHNICITY: american. there are some french roots, way back, but they’re bastardized: her family pronounces their surname the southern way, not the french.

background

BIRTH PLACE: jonesborough, tennessee HOMETOWN: jonesborough, tennessee SOCIAL CLASS: upper-middle. FATHER: eric montpellier. deceased march 2, 2014. suicide. gunshot wound to the head. ptsd resulting from military duty. MOTHER: kenna mae montpellier. deceased february 22, 2007. housefire. SIBLING(S): elody mae, legal guardian. 25. artist and interior designer. faceclaim. BIRTH ORDER: youngest of two. elody mae is 7 years older. PET(S): none. she gets the sniffles! OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: n/a. PREVIOUS/CURRENT RELATIONSHIPS: she’s been in a long-term relationship with clark beecher since the fall of sophomore year. ARRESTS?: nope! PRISON TIME?: nope!

occupation & income

SOURCE OF INCOME: darby’s band, pelagia., has paid gigs around town and in neighboring towns. they sold copies of their first ep, too. CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: yes!! between her and elody mae, they make things work. darby loves music; she practially lives and breathes in song. PAST JOB(S): she delivered papers for a lil’ while in tennessee. tagged along while elody mae biked. SPENDING HABITS: darby knows how to find herself a bargain! MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: her dad’s dog tags, which she keeps hidden under her pillow. some of his old navy blue sweaters. she throws ‘em on days when she misses him a little extra.

skills & abilities

TALENTS: musicianship. performing. songwriting. agile skating. playmaking. interpretive dancing. making her friends laugh. going cross-eyed for long periods of time. rolling her tongue. SHORTCOMINGS: she can’t say no to anyone she loves. quick to blame herself for things she can’t control ( like her parents’ passings ). elody mae rubs her wrong a lot and it’s not her sister’s fault, but they’ll go several days at a time without talkin’ when things get tense. swallowing her pride: she’s stubborn. LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, enough spanish to get by ( acquired from high school classes, but her southern accent kinda bleeds through? so kids in class always kinda smirk when she tries out the speaking exercises ). DRIVE?: no. never learned. JUMP-STAR A CAR?: no. CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: no. RIDE A BICYCLE?: nope. her dad never got ‘round to teachin’ her. SWIM?: no. they never had a pool. PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: countless. she sings, plays guitar, piano, drums, banjo. PLAY CHESS?: she prefers checkers. BRAID HAIR?: is the sky blue? yes. TIE A TIE?: mhm. PICK A LOCK?: nope, but that’d be cool!

physical appearance & characteristics

FACE CLAIM: natalia dyer. EYE COLOR: bright baby blue. HAIR COLOR: light brown. HAIR TYPE/STYLE: down to her shoulders, curly. typically up in a ponytail or some kind of quick style. GLASSES/CONTACTS?: nope. DOMINANT HAND: right. she plays right wing. but she likes to cut food with her left. HEIGHT: 5′0 even. WEIGHT: 108 lbs. BUILD: very, very thin. surprisingly muscular, though. not built like a typical hockey player but boy, does she command the ice. her strength, like… bewilders everyone. recruiters came to see her play this spring and fuckin’ lost their shit. this girl ?! captain ?! right wing ?! does she disintegrate when she’s checked ?!?! EXERCISE HABITS: always movin’ and groovin’. darby loves going for runs. weight-lifting. playing pickup games with her boys. SKIN TONE: very fair. freckled. TATTOOS: none. PEIRCINGS: she has her ears pierced but almost never wears earrings, due to rink rules. MARKS/SCARS: some burn scars from the housefire that killed her mom in 2007, on the back of her left forearm/wrist and across her stomach. she’s really insecure about them and almost always wears long sleeves because of it. she also has a birthmark shaped like canada on the arch of her left foot. when they were alive and darby was very young, her parents used to joke that god put that mark there because he knew their daughter was going to be a hockey star.

NOTABLE FEATURES: her eyes. her tiny size. her laugh. USUAL EXPRESSION: smiley, vibrant. CLOTHING STYLE: long sleeve sweaters, jeans, vans. graphic long-sleeve tees –– she really likes the nature designs on patagonia ones, or cool/eclectic designs. converse. timberlands, leggings, and oversized sweatshirts. denim jackets. in the winter, she’s always bundled up because she runs cold. honestly? she’d sooner wear a hoodie and shorts in the summer than throw on a t-shirt. she does wear short sleeves, but mainly for team workouts and runs. JEWELRY: she wears her father’s wedding band around her neck on a thin gold chain, always tucked under whatever top she’s wearing. her sister does the same with her mother’s. ALLERGIES: strawberries. peanuts. bees. BODY TEMPERATURE: she runs real cold. are you using that sweatshirt? DIET: when elody mae cooks, darby eats well –– lots of pinterest recipes and plant-based meals. left to her own devices, she reverts to ease: poptarts, protein bars, almonds. sunflower butter and jam sandwiches. she typically skips lunch at school to write, or free skate, or sneak into the weight room with whatever team’s rented it out that period. she always snackin’ on pretzels. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: insomnia, since her mother’s death. worsened with her father’s passing. i imagine it’ll get worse with her sister disappearing, too. her mild dependency on painkillers.

psychology

MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic good. TEMPERAMENT: sanguine. ELEMENT: air. MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: insomnia. SOCIABILITY: she’ll talk to anyone and anything! she flits around west ham’s social sphere like it’s nothing. EMOTIONAL STABILITY: sensitive. doesn’t hide things well. PHOBIA(S): snakes. being stung by a bee. never being loved / never having the wherewithal to find it. not getting a hockey scholarship. emptying the medicine cabinet. not being able to call her dad’s cell to hear his voice. losing elody mae. losing everyone. ADDICTION(S): painkillers. but she’s in denial. DRUG USE: a little here ‘n there. if others are doin’ it. ALCOHOL USE: about as standard as you’d expect, from a varsity athlete dating another varsity athlete. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: if provoked. she’s got a hockey stick and she’ll use it, if you threaten anybody she cares for.

mannerisms

QUIRKS: bites her bottom lip and rolls it between her teeth when she’s thinking. squints directly at the sun despite being scolded for it for years. latches on to friends’ arms as if the universe might tug them apart at any moment, and navigating the school parking lot is exhaustively complex –– like she might get lost; like she might lose them. calling instead of texting. sniffing peanut butter: she can’t eat it, but she loves how it smells. sleeping all curled up in a ball, on her left side, with the blankets tugged up tight against her chin. wearing beanies and baseball caps indoors. waking up early enough for church each sunday: getting dressed, beginning the walk across town, only to turn back halfway. running drills at the rink instead of attending lunch hour. jotting down lyrics on standardized tests. humming in school stairwells, when she thinks she’s alone. tapping her locker dial three times with her index finger before putting in her combo. wriggles her nose when she’s trying not to laugh. gaze always, always drifting to the nearest window. funky patterned socks. she has a pair with picasso. HOBBIES: hockey. guitar, banjo, piano, drums. singing. songwriting. running, weightlifting. elody mae tried to get her into yoga, but her headspace is far too cluttered. making late-night ice cream runs to the local parlor, because she knows the owner and he’s always ready to give her a free scoop. HABITS: tapping her fingers on flat surfaces. skipping meals when she’s stressed. texting thumbs-up emojis to avoid having to give an actual answer to “ how are you? ” . masking darker thoughts with game suggestions and silly jokes. deflection. wearing her father’s old army tees to bed, and sniffing them each time as if the laundered clothing might still hold onto even just a whiff of his cologne. falling for the wrong people. believing. letting her nail polish chip and chip and chip until all that’s left is a silhouette of pigment. biting her nails. midnight runs. pressing leaves into notebooks to capture moments for which she lacks the words. over-gifting outside her means, arguing with her sister about it later. NERVOUS TICKS: biting her lip. not making eye contact. rubbing together her left index finger and thumb. DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: honoring her parents’ memories. standing by elody mae. getting that hockey scholarship locked down, so her sister won’t have to give up more for her. making clark smile. oh, that boy’s smile. FEARS: the dark. heights. being stung by a bee. losing everyone. elody mae might find out she kept their dad’s dogtags. POSITIVE TRAITS: saccharine, musical, virtuosic. NEGATIVE TRAITS: diaphanous, dewey-eyed, naive. SENSE OF HUMOR: bubbly, giggly. she can find most things funny. DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: no! her parents used to wash her mouth out with soap. CATCHPHRASE(S): “ well, golly ! ” & “ i’ll be darned ! ” & “ who’d have thunk ? ”

favorites

ACTIVITY: making music, playing hockey. ANIMAL: she loves bees. even though she’s terrified of ‘em! BEVERAGE: water. BOOK: twenty-thousand leagues under the sea by jules verne. her father used to read it to her at night, chapter by chapter. it inspired her band name: pelagia . it means the open sea. CELEBRITY: david beckham. adam mcquaid. COLOR: army green. DESIGNER: she likes thrifting. FOOD: pretzel sticks. FLOWER: daisies. GEM: amethyst. HOLIDAY: new year’s eve. she loves getting to blow party kazoos in everyone’s faces. MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: walking or running. MOVIE: he wedding date. she’s a sucker for those stupid rom-coms. the mighty ducks. slap shot. MUSICAL ARTIST: cigarettes after sex, stevie nix, amy winehouse, the band camino, daniel caesar, etc. QUOTE/SAYING: “ honey, you got a big storm comin’ ! ” SCENERY: big open fields with bright green grass, wildflowers. SCENT: she doesn’t like candles, open flame. but she likes those lil’ air fresheners. eucalyptus, lavender, and peppermint calm her down. SPORT: hockey ! SPORTS TEAM: the west ham centurions, varsity girls hockey. she’s biased. she also likes the bruins. TELEVISION SHOW: bob ross specials. she used to watch ‘em all the time with her sister. WEATHER: warm ‘n breezy. VACATION DESTINATION: ontario, it looks so calm.

attitudes

GREATEST DREAM: make it big in the music industry. have that be her career. GREATEST FEAR: she’ll lose more people she loves. MOST AT EASE WHEN: she’s with clark. or making tunes. LEAST AT EASE WHEN: she’s alone in the dark. BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: selling out toad’s place for pelagia’s biggest show. BIGGEST REGRET: the last she said to her dad wasn’t i love you. MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: she punched a boy in second grade for calling her a wussy. and then his crying made her cry. BIGGEST SECRET: she prayed to make a deal with the devil to bring her parents back and bartered anything he wanted. she feels like her father’s death is her fault. TOP PRIORITIES: spending all the time she can with clark. lookin’ after tess, making sure grizz knows he’s being watched. taking care of elody mae, at least, as much as she can. securing that hockey scholarship for college. winning states. being a good captain. making music, and using that to help... mend.

#newhamhq: task #🥀 –– i don't like myself when i'm awake ! isms.#death tw #suicide tw #gun mentions tw

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davidsonhq · 3 years ago

Text

You say that you're no good for me 'Cause I'm always tugging at your sleeve And I swear I hate you when you leave I like it anyway.

Date: 29th July, 2021.

Location: Pete’s apartment, Staten Island.

Notes: After three years, Ariana and Pete finally get some closure in a very Ariana and Pete fashion.

@trulyari

Pete: Nothing about this whole meet-up sounded like a good idea to Pete. In fact, he could hardly hear himself think over all the alarm bells going off in his head, though they were always drowned out by the incessant need to have and own Ariana's attention, in any way, shape, or form. You would've thought that spending so long apart would've done wonders for his self control, yet it took barely more than five texts from his ex to fall right back into the same swing of things that came so naturally to him from before. He liked to think his reliance on her boiled completely down to his BPD, though if that were true, then why wasn't he pulling the same stunts to get replies from Carly, Cazzie, Kate, Margaret or even Kaia? It was like he craved the reckless, impulsive passion that had always engulfed them both and would take it whether it was positive or negative - which, as things stood, they currently were. Call it blind optimism or just knowing their dynamic too damn well, but he had a feeling it was the same reasoning that had brought her to him this evening, a personalized Imperial March doorbell - how fitting - sounding throughout the apartment, signalling her arrival. She'd never seen his new place on the waterfront, never even hung out since their very public breakup, so it seemed kind of trippy opening the new door to a very familiar sight, even three years later. "Yeah, no girl scout cookies, thanks". He spoke abruptly, re-closing the door immediately after opening it and very seriously considering just not opening it again until his body betrayed him by pulling back on the handle. "You actually came. I was right. Dope".

Ariana: This was such a bad excuse. Ariana knew it, Pete had to have known it, and if anyone had the chance to see their texts, they would know it as well. No one goes out of their way to visit someone just to keep the insults going in person. This was a chance to be near the other that things hadn't ended so well with, especially when it wasn't exactly their fault that it went this way. Ariana would never admit to it, but it's obvious. Sure, she tried to be friends with her exes before, sometimes hanging out with Ricky, but maybe the way she had such strong feelings for Pete kept her from seeing him again. At risk of being upset over it again, she kept distance but now it's as of she craved his company. Even if he got under her skin and made her eyes roll on the daily now. Ariana's mind did it's best not to think of anything other than her annoyances as she walked up to Pete's door, but suddenly it's as if they melted when she saw him again. "You-" Her eyes immediately narrowed as the door was shut in her face after the comment, her arms crossing as she waited for him to open it again. "I fucking hate you." The words mumbled out of her mouth. "Surprised you didn't lie about the address."

Pete: If he were being completely honest with himself, Pete wasn’t sure that he’d ever see Ariana again. Her face plastered all over the streets of New York and her voice finding its way onto his radio, sure, but in person? He had promised himself he’d never let that happen again. He knew all it’d take for her to dominate his thoughts again was one moment in person, which currently had him hating himself for being so weak-willed. Three years of resistance, boiling down to nothing. “I know you do” he responded, an all knowing smile on his face. And he really meant it. He felt all that frustration that she must’ve felt too for even making her way there. “Feeling’s mutual”. And yet, he opened the door wider, inviting her in with a side step. “Fuck. A’ight, now you’ve got me hating myself. I should’ve thought of that sooner. Could’ve had you wandering around Staten Island then enjoyed watching the Netflix documentary about your disappearance by the end of the month”. And she really thought he wouldn’t keep up this hateful facade to her face. Now came the awkward part. Normally, he’d greet his visitors with a hug or a fist bump, but what exactly was the right thing to do in this situation? “So, you uh…want a beer? A joint? A gag?”

Ariana: What a stupid smile. Ariana hated Pete's smile. More so, she hated the way it made her want to smile. Seeing stupid videos pop up on her IG or Twitter of the comedian being funny, fuck him. It wasn't right that she couldn't just ignore all of it. Luckily enough for now, she was able to ignore it in order to not smile back at him. "You wish you could hate me." With her arms dropping from her chest, Ariana made her way past him, making sure not to bump her shoulders into him as she stepped by. "So nice that you know Netflix would make another documentary about me." A shitty grin spread across her face before her eyes were narrowing. "Normally I'd accept but I don't know what I would catch from your gags."

Pete: The way Ariana breezed past him into his home was reminiscent of times beforehand, though the vibe between them was obviously vastly different. Usually she would’ve bounded straight into his arms and this reception would’ve felt more familiar if they had actually had a slow breakdown of their relationship rather than having it come to a screeching halt. The whole thing had been turned on it’s head, and having her here now under such different circumstances was definitely a shock to the system. Sticking to what he knew best, Pete continued to rally with her, the pair exchanging dig after dig. “It actually hasn’t been used in I’d say…about three years? Not everyone moans like they’re used to projecting their voice across an entire stadium”. He turned on his heel back to her, holding up his palms as if in surrender. “And I’m not shitting on you with that, I actually miss hearing it”. Throwing out bold comments like that and acting like he hadn’t was sort of his specialty, and today was no different as he followed it up with pointing towards the human-sized-alien-toy that sat proudly on the couch, as always. “You remember my boy, Kev?”

Ariana: Memories of whenever Ariana would walk into the same room as Pete years ago flooded her mind, causing her to remember how she would hold onto him as if he were the only thing keeping her grounded. She still remembered the last time they were like that, the scent of him surrounding her like his tattoo littered arms would when holding her body close. The fact that she was thinking of this alone made her want to hate him even more. With her mouth opening to return an insult, it quickly closed again when Pete mentioned what he had missed. Now she was stuck thinking about how loud he was capable of making her when they were together like that. "I'm sure your neighbors were more than thrilled with us splitting up, finally got some fuckin' sleep." The fact alone that the toy had moved from a corner to sitting on a couch like a genuine part of the household caused Ariana to smile in it's direction but she immediately wiped it away to hide emotion. "I remember his perverted watching. Still bring him along whenever you fuck? It'd explain you not having a girl staying here."

Pete: Feeling somewhat accomplished that he’d managed to cause her to think back to at least some of the memories that had plagued his mind since being back in her presence, Pete smiled smugly as he rounded the couch and patted Kevin on the head, wishing he could’ve seen their long nights through his eyes at least once. “Fuckin’ damn right I do, he’s my G. The girls may change, but Kev stays the same. And anyway, who says I don’t have one staying here tonight?” Raising his eyebrows, Pete looked over in Ariana’s direction, unsure of just where his confidence always managed to come from considering in reality he considered himself extremely insecure. Luckily, he’d just gotten good at faking it. “Last time I checked, you identified as a female, and if I were you I’d advise against getting the ferry back to the city late at night, there’s weirder people than me that come out of Staten Island”. Digging around in the pockets of his basketball shorts for a pre-rolled joint, Pete stuck it between his lips, talking without moving them too much to prevent it falling. She hadn’t exactly answered his question about whether or not she wanted to partake, but since when would that ever stop him? Ironically, he needed smoke in his lungs just as much as he needed oxygen in them. “You mind? I kinda need it. I can feel my blood pressure doubling just from having you in the same room as me”. Without so much as waiting for a response, as if he were actually grumpy that she’d decided to come and was eager to already get away, Pete slid open the doors that led to the balcony - New York City, the place they’d met, lighting the horizon, just over the water. Raising the lighter to his mouth and sparking his joint, Pete took a long drag before glancing back inside to see where his visitor was at, despite him not being overly inviting.“You coming or what?”

Ariana: There was a softness that spread over Ariana whenever she could see Pete's smile, knowing that it's all he had to do in her direction to cause the feeling of melting to occur. It was terrible. Disgusting. She loved it. "I come over here to see you be an asshole to my face and you're thinking I should stay the night?" Her eyebrow raised in his direction before her sight dropped back down on Kev. A certain night of stopping mid sex to call the Alien out popped up in her head, her mental smile forcing it's way out physically down at the fake creature. "You're a fuckin' mess. Do you want the Netflix doc or what?" Against her own judgement, one of her whispy laughs left her throat just like the way she would laugh around him years before. "Have at it. Just don't ask me to marry you while high again." With that, Ariana followed the other out onto the balcony, her hands gripping onto the edge for a moment to collect herself. The scent of weed lingering around as she admired the city transported her back to a special type of memory, often the kind that lead to her and Pete rushing off to the bedroom. "I'm not gonna let you live down for missing my voice now that you've said it, by the way."

Pete: “We both know one of the worst possible things to come out of tonight would be you staying over, so by encouraging it, can’t you just pretend it’s my entire intention to be an asshole?” In reality, it really was just because he wanted to keep her safe, but he’d be damned if he let her believe that. Leaning back against the railing, Pete opted to face inwards, towards the sight that he never thought he’d see in person again rather than out at the waterfront which he witnessed every day. “Why? You afraid you’ll say yes again?” He teased, knowing just how impulsive they both could be. I mean, fuck, he wasn’t sure that they’d been talking even a day before Pete had thrown out the whole “I’d marry you tomorrow” comment that caused a rapid spiral of them falling for eachother way faster than the average couple would. Taking a drag, the comedian narrowed his eyes through a cloud of smoke, “is that something I said? I don’t recall. I hear your voice every fuckin’ day on some radio station or some other shit. I’m pretty sure I said I missed hearing you the way not many other people get to. Or…maybe even anyone else, ever. Depends how good you’re getting it. I mean, there has to be a reason the guy you started seeing after me looked like a literal clone, right? Trying to replicate anything there?"

Ariana: The way Pete's logic sounded as ass backwards as their dynamic now was gave Ariana more signals that the other was full of shit, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy it. "Sounds like you're being an asshole to yourself more than to me. I know how difficult it must be to have my presence around without wanting to jump my bones." She teased before the feeling of his eyes on her began to make her uneasy. It'd been so long since they had this type of proximity but she felt her body betray her as it welcomed the sensation. "That's right, it's entirely impossible to deny such an offer." Her eyes rolled before they were back to making contact with Pete's, her head tilted back so she could actually see them. "First of all.. I bet you don't change the station when I come on either, but still.. you missing the way I sound in bed is what I meant anyway." A sigh left her lips as she turned away to face the city again as if she could ignore how nice it was when Pete looked at her. "Well.. he might have looked like you, but he certainly couldn't hold up in the same way.. don't let that get to your head, though. I don't need to fuel any ego."

Pete: He couldn't deny that this /was/ some form of self-torture, and he pursed his lips together, nodding in agreement. "No. No, you're right in some respect...this definitely was some whack idea that could be considered self destructive. Luckily for you, that's right on brand for me, so you get one free night of my company before I come to my senses. What /I'm/ more interested in, is knowing what's in it for you? Why did you actually come?". He could sense his gaze, that hadn't shifted from Ariana once, was making her feel uneasy, and he had to admit that he enjoyed still having some sort of power over the way he could make her feel. "Or maybe that's just it. Here I am thinking you low-key miss me but are too stubborn to admit it, but maybe you just miss a part of me. And shit, if that's the case, I'm not offended. You won't see me crying about it. Consider my ego already inflated". Letting another smile creep back onto his features as he continued to wind her up, Pete relaxed back against the railing and cocked his head. "I'm right, aren't I? You don't need to say it. Blink once for yes and not at all for no".29 June 2021

Ariana: There was no denying the fact that Ariana might be just as equally as destructive as Pete could be. This wasn't the first time she found herself sharing time with someone she used to be with, Bill being able to contest to that fact. That was a whole other story of its own, but this felt even more. She wasn't ever engaged to Bill. "A part of me genuinely thought you couldn't be an asshole to my face. Which I'm right. Sure, you're an ass, but you're not a dick to me." The other part too it was too hard for Ariana to admit to, especially cause it was ultimately her own life that made it impossible for their relationship to work out. That alone made it feel like Ariana shouldn't miss him. "Oh my god.. you know, you're far more confident about yourself than you think," Ariana paused as she turned her body back towards him so they could look at one another yet again. "Really suggesting that I came over here because I missed your dick." A scoff left her lips that wasn't nearly as serious as she had meant for it. Just for that, though, Ariana continued to stare at Pete, doing her best not to blink for as long as possible until it was impossible. "I get no benefit from agreeing with you, so I refuse it.. but so what that he looked like you. Just accept that I have a /type/."

Pete: “Oh, I’m not doing a good job? I can kick it up a notch, if you want-“ Pete offered, sticking with the facade that anyone would want to come round just to be annoyed by someone. Personally, he thought he was being pretty intolerable, but he supposed that spoke volumes about how much Ariana was willing to put up with just to be in his company. If only she had held the same perseverance during the breakdown of what they had. She had to have known he wasn’t actually this confident and it was all just an act, sort of like the one where he moved on with an almost 50 year old woman and engaged in heavy make out sessions in highly papped areas. To him, the acts were all pretty obvious, but as long as they worked. Waving a hand in front of her stoney stare, Pete chuckled to himself as he amused himself with trying to make her blink until he caught one and pointed at it with an “a-ha!”. “Sure, I get that. We all have our types. Just a little suspicious how yours changed after a certain someone, but I mean, that’s enough calling you out for now. I know you already know it, deep down. You don’t need to say it out loud”.7 July 2021

Ariana: With her own confidence standing at high levels, Ariana took the possibly regretful move to stand closer to Pete, her head tilting back as she gave a harsh stare eye to eye. "Really pay attention to me being this close to you and give it your best shot to be as much of an asshole as you can be. Just give me all the reason to walk out of this place now and possibly get kidnapped off the streets." At this point, it was just embarrassing how obvious it was that Ariana secretly craved to be in Pete's presence. No matter what she said and how hard she tried to act like she couldn't stand him - though sometimes it was true but only to a certain extent - she never really gave herself the closure of ending things with Pete more properly. Only an abrupt break up like theirs could leave a part of her missing him like this. "Not all of us can go off the rails and date women from all ends of the spectrum, Pete. Can't tell if you're into moms or the barely legal at this point. Think I'm out on top with this battle."

Pete: Without Ariana even needing to instruct him to pay attention, all of Pete's senses suddenly went into overdrive, they hadn't been this close since that one day where she flew to New York after finding out he'd been struggling, but even so, this was under completely different circumstances, and as much as he tried to fight off all the overwhelming feelings that consumed him when she was near, he couldn't, and he fucking hated that. He fucking hated her for still having such a hold on him. "I literally wish I never met you". He spoke abruptly, knowing the same words from her mouth would've probably crushed him, but voicing them anyway. Well, she'd asked him to be an asshole, hadn't she? And he still wasn't quite sure if that was because she lowkey got off on it, or if it was because she was looking for a reason to walk away and never look back. Either way, he'd give it to her, and there was no time like the present, not now they were finally back face-to-face with one another. "You knew how much I loved you," he pointed the joint-sandwiched-fingers in her direction. "You knew how easy it was for me to get completely caught up in that whole fairytale without a fucking care in the world. I fucked over...so many people-" starting with Cazzie, his girlfriend that he dropped at the first sign of Ariana showing interest, despite that relationship already being on it's last legs. Her father, Larry David, the comedian, who had always been like a mentor to him who now probably couldn't be in the same room without his stomach turning. Not to mention all the people who seemingly hated him straight off the bat for the whirlwind nature of how they got together, without them actually knowing a fucking thing about how much the pair actually cared for each other. Even his mom, his therapist, his SNL co-stars and his neighbors cat reprimanded him for getting into such a public, full-on relationship. But the truth was - neither of them could help it. When you loved someone that much, all you want to do is shout it from the rooftops, which is exactly what they did. Just...more of a 21st century version. "And don't get me wrong. I'm not blaming you for shit. I know neither of us could've known how it was going to end, and it was the most awful fuckin' thing we could've had to go through - so for /both/ of our sake, I wish you never would've waltzed into the writers room that day. Or at least, I wish you would've left it at that. Why try and get in contact with me years later as if I hadn't already been trying to get you out of my head all that time? That's just cruel. I think you're cruel".

Ariana: It was stupid of her to think things weren't going to be in this direction. After the pain she put him through, the pain she suffered herself, there was no way it'd just be a snappy back and forth with annoyance. It was clear things lead straight to a place of hurting, opening old wounds that she helplessly hoped would have healed. Her own couldn't even heal, why should his? Hearing his words practically spit at her face caused that same old ache to return to her heart, the feeling as if she was shrinking in front of him consuming her entirely. This wasn't him being an asshole, this was him being honest and that hurt more than any terrible joke he could make at her expense. "Pete.." Her voice broke, something it practically never did due to how strong she kept it, but this pain was something else. It's like she could feel Pete's pain just from how heavy it was on him. With shaky hands, Ariana began to lift them to press to his cheeks but they hesitated, knowing they had no right to touch. "I know what I am.. I am cruel," with eyes shiny from watering up, Ariana's throat grew tighter as she tried finding the words to say, "I know I am, 'cause if I wouldn't, I would be doing everything I could to make you forget about me. I just can't forget about you. I can't forget about how in love I was with you. How hard it hit so fast.." Ariana looked down for a brief moment to let her tears fall when it became too much to hold back, wiping them away quickly before looking at him again. "I don't have a reason that could justify doing this to you again, Pete. It's selfish, that's all it is. I've been cruel, I've been selfish, and I've been missing you and the way it was to be near you. Being in the same room as you again gives me more of a high than anything you have in this place. I should have helped it and stayed away, but I.. I just couldn't. I'm sorry, Pete. I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. For this. For your sake, I wish you never had to meet me either."

Pete: It took only moments after his rant for Pete to regret every single word of it - the front that he’d spent so long putting up in order to seem completely fine without her in his life had massive gaping holes in it now, and it only took a matter of a few seconds. But mainly, he hated seeing her cry. He’d seen far too much of it in the last few weeks than he’d ever wanted to, and this time it’d been him that caused them. “Fuck…” he let out, dropping the joint that had long gone out to the ground as he ran his hands over his face in exasperation. “No. No, that wasn’t fair of me, I didn’t mean it-“ he backtracked, though she had to have known deep down he kind of did. “Well, fuck it, I did. But I’m just as selfish as you. We /both/ knew nothing good could come from this, and we both wanted it anyway. I’d be completely embarrassed by it if I didn’t think we were in the exact same position right now..” he admitted, gaze practically burning a hole into her as he dipped his head to her level, adrenaline coursing through his veins the closer he got. “I just fucking miss you, and I’d take anything at this point…”. He spoke lowly, giving into every urge in his entire body right now by letting his lips catch her bottom one as he enunciated each word with a slow, tentative lingering kiss, each one feeling like an ex junkie taking another hit after years of abstaining. “I miss you so…” there was one hit. “Fucking” and another. “Much”.

Ariana: Ariana wouldn't have allowed Pete to take back what he had said. Of course she wouldn't hold it against him because she knew it to be true, but she certainly didn't want Pete to feel like he had to take it back for her own sake. She deserved to hear it and she was glad when Pete confirmed that he meant to say it. They needed to say this to each other, clearly pushing it back was the worst thing they could do. With the singer's head tilted back so she could look up at him in the eyes, any tears left pooled to the outer corners of her eyes and slowly streamed down while she tried to collect her mind and thoughts together. "I didn't want the way things ended to be the last time I was near you.. it still feels too open, too raw..-" her voice slowly cut off as she noticed exactly how Pete was now looking at her, his words causing her heart to beat faster, the pounding practically settling in her throat until the tension finally broke and she felt his lips on her own. Unlike before, her hands came up without any hesitation to hold onto his jaw while kissing him back, the small space between them now becoming as little as possible. "Pete," Ariana muttered against her ex-fiance's lips before becoming caught up in each kiss over and over. "I don't want," her hands slipped to hold the back of his neck to keep him there, "just don't want to miss you anymore."

Pete: Even as he pulled partially away from each kiss, Petes eyes remained shut, afraid to meet her own and face the reality that he’d fucked up by taking the plunge and misjudging the situation, but with each new time their lips met, it struck him over and over again that she was /actually/ kissing him back. Once again, his impulsive thoughts were not just his own, yet he still couldn’t help apologising for them. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, hands going into the back of her hair as they both held onto eachother like something that could easily be pried away. “I just can’t…be around you and not…” want to kiss her, obviously. But he wasn’t about to even get started on the encyclopaedia of other things he’d do to her right now if she just said the word. Shaking his head in frustration, their foreheads balancing against one another’s, he tried to consider a time where they could be in eachothers lives without him wanting to be hers, but it seemed impossible at this moment in time, when there was so much built up tension from over the years just ready to burst. “I cant bare it”.

Ariana: Maybe these feelings that consumed every inch of her body while kissing Pete were a reminder that they never had closure like this. For a relationship that ended as quickly as it had began, Ariana didn't end things the way she would have truly wanted. The way that would have kept the both of them from hurting so much, but everything felt impossible back then. Now that she was kissing and feeling him again and being held by his hands, everything that she had missed with him, maybe it wouldn't have to be as painful the next day. "Then don't, Pete.." She instinctively went back in for another kiss despite trying to talk to him, her arms dropping down to hold onto his slim torso, hands pressed to his back to keep him from pulling off. "Don't stop yourself from doing what you want.. I'm here.. I want it." With their foreheads together, Ariana took the moment to bask in the air they were currently sharing as they breathed. "I want what you want."

Pete: With the verbal confirmation that he needed coming from Ariana, Pete smiled the first genuine smile that he’d actually cracked in her presence in a matter of years, an exhale of disbelief passing through his lips before he rapidly pressed them back to hers, scooping her petite frame off the floor and spinning them so she was propped up against the balcony railing. The whole thing would’ve felt pretty precarious yet there was no way Ariana’s body would’ve gone anywhere with how tightly he clung onto it, his hands winding her legs around his slim frame as if he’d happily be crushed between her thighs like the victim of a boa constrictor. And besides, nothing could’ve been more dangerous than getting involved with her again, but he’d risk it all in that moment. “God I’ve never been so grateful for your stubborn ass for bringing you round here-“ he added breathlessly, apparently neither of them knowing whether they wanted to make up for lost time through kissing or voicing the thoughts that were racing through his mind at a million miles a minute.

Ariana: No feeling could ever compare to the one that consumed Ariana the very second she saw the one person smile because of her that she feared she'd never make smile again. Especially when his smile had always been one of her favorites. With her arms and legs quickly wrapping around his body as if nothing else could ever make her feel as steady, Ariana let a soft gasp leave her lips at how quick he was to handle her like that. And there it was. The kind of comment that would make Ariana laugh, primarily shown through videos uploaded to Instagram. The airy giggle that he would do easily pull out of her now leaving her lips again. "So convinced this couldn't be a good idea, but had to do it anyway." With her arms letting go, but legs remaining tight around him, Ariana brought her hands up to comb through his hair and make a grip in order to pull him in more determinedly, putting pure energy into their kiss as if they'd only see another day on this earth as long as they kept their lips together like this. "Needed to do it.. now I just.. I need you."

#( 015 )#( guys don't judge us for how lONG this took to post )#( i'm pretty sure i got the date wrong but all you need to know is it's backdated af )

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droneseco · 4 years ago

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AndaSeat Kaizer II Review: This Is the Chair for Big Gamers

AndaSeat Kaiser II

10.00 / 10

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