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worldofgoo · 1 year ago

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yayayay yippee (≧◡≦) i love how vibrant & lively your art is, i think my fav pieces are Horse Surgery & hanyuu (even tho i have no idea who that is) but that one wip with the rainbow is also v ery special 2me because it reminds me of my fav kind of weather ^_^ generic Which Program Do You Use question & also which programs have you tried so far? which one would you recommend for someone whose only experience so far wiht digital art has been scribbling in ms paint -_-? on topic, what do you draw with (mouse, phone, drawing tablet, ??) & was it easy for you to get used to digital art? i always get overwhelmed by the amound of different functions available so im not sure where to even start, any advice? which physical art forms do you like / would you like to learn (anything at all, i personally have been getting into air dry clay... well actually ive been using my sisters playdoh but maybe ill purchase smthn fancier :3) & final question how do you come up with poses to draw? your characters (+creatures) seem very animated and i really like that :)

HI okay i guess ill answer these in a list. actually will put it under the cut since i ended up saying a lot (and dw i enjoy being able to talk a lot so thank you!)

-THANK YOU im glad some of my more recent works (in my more current style) are appealing 2 people! like i wanna draw my own way even though i think it gets less notes... the higurashi fanarts (hanyuu and shion) r very memorable pieces to me because its when i started doing the loose sketches with the thin lines and block colors and thats the direction i reallyreally wanted to take my style in. also the rainbow is rian my friend rian

-i draw in paint tool sai! the only program i used before that was sketchbook pro, which i didnt like because the brushes were kind of... blurry/smudgy? sai allows you to zoom in and draw pixel by pixel which is something i like, and i like the way it does its blending. its also just easier for me to understand. i didnt pay for it i think i found some deviantart page that had the link, id have to find it again

-i draw with a wacom intuos tablet! its lasted me... almost 10 years now. ive heard newer ones are poorer quality in terms of at least the nibs needing to be replaced constantly, so idk what the most recommended tablet these days is. ive drawn with my mouse and tbh it caused awful hand pain so i would not recommend this. i draw on my phone with my finger sometimes but i find doing it on my laptop easier, however it is doable once you get used to it

-the way i got into digital art... well. i still have an archive of my earliest art if you wanna see! i was 14 n just drew random shit, often lining over doodles i did on paper and coloring them in. i think esp if youre overwhelmed start with making like throwaway experimental pieces, scribble around, doodle stupid things and color them in with different brushes and see what you enjoy. and then you can just keep the files to yourself if they dont look too good or maybe itll look interesting, it depends i guess haha. the other thing that ive always found helped me was telling myself id draw every day even if it was a little scribble or the tiniest amount of work on a wip bc getting a habit going helped my art a Lot beause it helped me spend more time thinking n focusing on it

more specific advice for sai that i found useful- using clipping groups & the preserve opacity functions are both lifesavers in terms of not spending so much time trying to color in the lines. if you color in a base layer you can just put everything above it as a clipping group and just not worry about it anymore. i also really like using the filters (like multiply) to mess around with the colors a drawing has, though sometimes its more effective to just select a layer/individual color and fuck with the hue/saturation/etc until it looks good. when i color, esp when its not turning out how i wanted to, i rely on shifting colors A LOT. n also mixing colors together using a blending brush and then colorpicking the intermediate color. very useful

-for the most part i stick to uncolored pencil doodles on like, notebook paper (even though i have some fancy supplies X[ one day) but i LOVE making things with clay, wish it was more accessible to do at home. i have a handful of clay animal statues and stuff that i made in my ceramics class in high school. would looove to do more

-because my poses tend to be very pushed/cartoony using references of real people isnt always useful (though obv knowing the basics of anatomy always helps) so in those cases ill use other cartoony art i like as inspiration, i try to see what i like about their poses nd emulate that with my own. sometimes when im struggling ill just do a bunch of studies where i copy art i like to try to get a feel for what im missing. mostly ive realized i like when the pose conveys some level of like, volume and taking up a 3D space (which im still definitely not a master of but bullshitting it can be fun). and i also like to have a balance of curved and angular shapes. sometimes i try to just do a pose that conveys a specific emotion or i just make shit up lol

alsooooo i cant reccomend aimless doodling enough! just random shapes, turning the random shapes into creatures, trying and trying and trying different ways to draw something until you like it, i feel like the things my hand makes when i shut my brain off and just scribble can inspire me as well, and i try to emulate whatever i made by chance while doodling. and if your doodles turn out better in traditional i tend to consider using a photo of a drawing as a way to skip the "preliminary sketch" phase nd drawing a rough sketch over that which i then use for my drawing (or just directly color since i draw very fast/lazy...)

#long answer but i wanted to give good answers to everything!!!#thank you again!!!#and i hope i helped #yayyy talking about art #ask

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dashhoney25 · 4 years ago

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E. Part IV

Hazel

The car ride home with Adonis was rather awkward for you. Either you had too much to drink, or you just couldn't stop thinking of Adonis being the nicer version of Erik. Adonis broke the silence, "You quiet, you sleepy?" he asked. "No, I'm okay" you said looking out the window as you rested your head against the window. "You hungry?" Adonis questioned. "No, but thank you Donnie" you said nicely, glancing at him. Adonis shot a smile at you as his dimples gleamed at the stop light.

You sighed heavily and smiled slightly. "There she is" he exclaimed. You chuckled as the car pulled off and turned into your complex. Adonis parked the car and you quickly got out and grabbed your keys out of your pocket. "Is it clean before I walk in here?" Adonis questioned as he followed you. "Of course it is" you laughed. Adonis followed you as you walked into the building and got on the elevator. Reaching your floor, you unlocked the door and he followed you inside. "Make yourself comfortable" you said locking the door behind him.

Taking your phone out, you connected your phone to your Google Home Mini and let your playlist echo throughout the room. "It's been a minute since I've been here" Adonis said taking a seat on the couch. "Looks like you got a good memory" you said. "I'm gonna get out of these jeans, can you give me a minute?" you asked. "Sure, don't go to sleep back there" Adonis joked. You walked to your bedroom and pulled out your favorite grey pair of cotton joggers and the matching long sleeve crop top to match. Quickly getting dressed you threw your clothes in the hamper and walked into the living-room to sit on the couch next to Adonis.

"Comfortable?" he asked. "Much better" you replied. Adonis moved closer to you on the couch, and noticed your stand-offish demeanor. "Too close?" he asked. "It's just a little awkward for me D." you sighed. "I'm just not in a good place right now when it comes to, you know who" you said looking around. "And what did I tell you?" Adonis asked lifting your chin. "And you asked if you were too close, and I explained why Donnie" you say moving away from him. "Look I'm home now, so if you want to leave due to my honesty that's okay with me; but I'm not gonna hold back how I feel right now" you admit. Adonis chuckled, "I hear you talking. You don't scare me at all Hazel. All this backbone shit you got going on, you need to use this on Erik. I'm not here for all that. I just didn't want you going home in an Uber aight?" Adonis replied. "And you're free to leave. Mission accomplished." You got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen to grab a glass and your bottle of Hennessy.

Adonis followed you into the kitchen, "Like I said you don't scare me. What you got going on in here?" he said taking the bottle. "Just something to put me to bed for the night" you say casually grabbing a second glass. "Go ahead and pour me a glass, you owe me remember" he smirked. You poured two small glasses of Hennessy on ice and walk back into the living-room to sit on the couch as you enjoyed the music playing.

Think About Me by DVSN

As the song loomed in the background Adonis took his shoes off. "Why Erik? I mean, why couldn't you and Vic work it out?" Adonis asked. "We tried D, I don't know; Vic wasn't too fond of Erik" you say. "We both know why Vic didn't care for Erik. But forget I brought this up aight?" Adonis said. You shot a confused look at Adonis and brushed your hair behind your ear. "Why did Erik have to give you $400?" you asked. "What are you talking about?" Adonis questioned. "Erik said that he had to handle some business the other night, I found $400 on his nightstand and he said that he had to give it to you" you said facing him on the couch sitting Indian style. Adonis smiled, "Hazel, my brother and I... we got some things going on at the gym right now that need to be taken care of. Trust me when I say we good. Don't worry about that" Adonis said in a deflecting manner. "But.. Erik doesn't have a job" you said confused. Adonis quickly moved in and pecked your lips. The kiss caught you off guard, your mind had no time for your body to physically react; let alone process this slick advance. He pulled away and looked in your eyes, "Why you thinking so much, Ma?" he questioned. "Just relax. I'm not here to talk to about him, you too pretty to be talking so much" he said in a calming tone.

"Excuse me?" You questioned getting upset. "Just listen Hazel, I can tell you right now, most dudes ain't gone tolerate you questioning them how you do. I'm not Erik, but I'm sick of you asking me about what he does and what he doesn't do. I'ma tell you right now if you keep it up, I gotta go" Adonis said. You felt offended by the comment, even a bit threatened. "I don't know another way to say it but chill the fuck out for a minute and stop over analyzing so much. Erik isn't here, I am. Can you handle that for a minute?" he asked caressing the side of your face. You shrugged your shoulders. "I guess" you say moving closer to him to lean your head on his shoulder. "Change this shit, you in your feelings. We get it, you can't stop thinking about Erik" Adonis commanded.

Leaning over to grab your phone from the table, you skipped to the next song.

Mood by DVSN

"What do you do when you're not with Erik?" Adonis asked. "Nothing really, just work." You said taking another sip of your liquor. "You don't have any hobbies?" Adonis asked. "I've watched just about everything on Netflix." Adonis chuckled, "Damn, you need to get out more" "D, it's not that easy. I'm still trying to adjust to not being with Vic. We did spend 3 years together" you say looking up at him. "Okay, and chasing Erik won't make your life any easier" Adonis chimed. You rolled your eyes, "Do you hate your brother or something? It's like no matter what I say you always find something about him to discredit" you said taking another sip. "I've seen what he's done, given the fact that you two have been at this for years, I'm not surprised that it's happening again" Adonis said finishing his glass. "Oh so you just come behind him and clean up the mess he's made huh?" you teased pinching his cheeks.

"I show up when my services are needed, unexpectedly" Adonis said with low eyes looking at you seductively. Confused at his response you got up and walked to your balcony to get some fresh air, and hopefully create some space between you two. You stood at the threshold of the balcony and went silent. Adonis walked up behind you and placed his hand on your shoulder. "What's on your mind?" he asked. "Have you ever wanted to do something that you usually wouldn't do?" you asked. Adonis looked puzzled, "That depends, what is it?" he asked.

"I wanna get high." You spoke softly. Adonis' eyes widened, "You know anyone we can link up with tonight to get something?" you asked. "You know I don't smoke Hazel", "But I know you do it from time to time. Don't bullshit me Donnie" you poked at him. A smirk crept to his face, "I think I know a guy" he said taking his phone out of his pocket. "Alright cool, let me get the money from my purse and put on some shoes and we can go" you said closing the door to your balcony and taking Adonis' hand, walking him to your bedroom.

"So you know when we do this, you know we're gonna talk shit right?" Adonis asked. "It's been a while for me, but I know we'll be a little more... relaxed if that's what you're referring to" you said going into your closet to look for your purse. "Exactly. So while we're sober is there anything you'd like to share?" Adonis asked sitting on the edge of your bed. "Not that I know of" you said taking out your Chanel purse, struggling to take your wallet out, it fell to the floor. "Well, what I wanna know is, since you're so uptight, when's the last time you let someone...." Adonis asked as you bent down to pick up your wallet, looking at how defined your ass looked in those joggers. "The last time what Donnie?" you asked opening the wallet, pulling out some cash; tossing it on the bed. "You let someone get this close to you?" he asks seductively as he rose from the bed standing behind you as his hand scooped around your lower half. You felt the bulge in his pants through your joggers and quickly stepped out of his embrace.

"I told you D, I don't wanna talk about that. I'm perfectly fine doing things my way" you say putting the wallet back in the purse and placing it in your closet. Turning around, Adonis stood in front of you, "You sure about that?" he questioned pulling you into a kiss, grabbing your ass. You moaned slightly at his kiss and pulled away looking into his eyes. His charm was overtaken by the Hennessy as he picked you up and placed you in the bed getting on top of you still kissing you.

Your eyes glossed over as he looked at you. "Don't think so much" he whispered and kissed you once more before pulling off his shirt revealing his abs with a teaser of his deep v. Biting your bottom lip, Adonis pulled off your joggers, his index finger trailed the lining of your black laced thong. He shared a naughty look with you, before tugging at them as a signal for consent. Nodding your head nervously, Adonis took off your socks and kissed you from the heel of your foot to the inside of your thighs generously. Careful to give attention to both your right and left leg, Adonis took off your crop top before staring at your hips again.

Adonis kissed at your folds through your underwear, causing you to claw at the sheets. Watching your movements, he pulled your panties to the side and ran his index finger against your slit. You moaned loudly and he knew he had you. He had you right where he wanted you. Adonis' finger trailed your flesh, beginning at your lips, to your collarbone, down your chest and to your stomach. Reaching your stomach, he placed soft kisses there, watching as your body jumped at his touch and admiring your smile from time to time. He studied your body intensely, and loved the results.

Going lower, his teeth latched to your underwear and he pulled them off swiftly. Taking them out of his mouth, he spread your legs and dove into your warm folds that patiently awaited him. Groaning at the intense pleasure he produced, Adonis sucked at your lips harshly. His tongue trailed the inside of your folds producing low moans from your lips. You couldn't take the teasing, and you wanted his attention. Taking your French manicured nails between your thighs, you lifted your hood to expose your clit to him. Adonis accepted the invitation, he flicked his tongue against your clit rapidly as you struggled to keep your clit exposed to him; the pleasure was too much. You wailed loudly at his progress and ran your fingers through his low hair cut. "Shit" you cursed lowly. Adonis sucked your clit and inserted his index finger to intensify the feeling. "Two please" you let out. Adonis winked at you seductively and added his middle finger, doing this at an angle he reached your g-spot causing you to cream within moments. "Oh God!" you yelled as your hips rolled on his face and fingers.

Gripping your breasts, Adonis slapped your pussy and quickly removed his pants. You sat up for a moment hoping to get a view of his member when he pulled you into a sloppy wet kiss, tasting yourself as his tongue slithered against yours. Moaning, you gripped his neck intensifying the kiss, Adonis pushed you back gently and entered you roughly. You moaned loudly as you felt all of him in you. Laying flat on your back, Adonis put your legs by your ears bending them so your knees are by your ears, he fucked you slow and deep. His thick dick massaged your walls generously as your pussy swallowed him, taking him happily with each thrust. He was balls deep inside of you and watched as his dick flowed in and out of you effortlessly. His body hovered you as he placed wet kisses on your neck, and you bit at his shoulders, gripping his back. "Damn you wet as fuck, tight ass pussy!" He huffed. You leaned up and pulled him into a kiss, biting his bottom lip. "Shut up" you groaned against his lips.

Skin by Rihanna

Your Google Home Mini continued to echo throughout the house as Adonis pleased you. Adonis picked you up and turned you over, sitting you in his lap. He unclasped your bra and showed great attention to your breasts while you slowly grinded on his dick. "Just like that girl" he encouraged. His tongue swirled your nipple rings, playfully, he flicked your nipples with his tongue to get a rise out of you. "Quit, playing D" you joked as you wanted to pick up the pace. "Lay back for me" you said. With one last kiss, Adonis gave into your demands and held your hips as you rode him faster. His dick was thick, long, and just perfect for your pussy. This monster hit your g-spot just right and is probably fucking up your cervix as we speak. You leaned over to hover Adonis to ride him faster. Your ass clapped against his pelvis as you picked up the pace while your breasts danced in his face. Adonis stuck his tongue out to graze your breasts, hoping you could feel the sensation. "Keep going babygirl" he whispered.

You smirked at him and slowly leaned back to readjust, keeping Adonis inside, you swung your right leg over his body and used your left leg to turn your body; as your right leg followed your body was now facing his legs and your ass was in his face. You leaned over and gripped Adonis' ankles and rode him reverse cowgirl giving him a show. "Oh shit!" he said slapping your ass as it clapped on him even faster. You could feel yourself dripping on him as you clenched around him. You didn't want to quit, his shit was too good. Riding him faster, Adonis couldn't taking it, he quickly sat you up on your hands and knees and plowed you roughly. "I don't cum first, you do!" he barked. Adonis spread your ass cheeks to go deeper, as his strokes picked up, you instantly got wetter and creamed on his dick immediately. "Mhmmmm" you let out feeling satisfied. Turning under him to lay on your back, you finally spoke, "C'mere" you whispered lowly. Adonis flashed his smile as his lips met yours.

He picked you up as you two continued to kiss, laying your head on the pillow, Adonis turned you over on your side, and ran his fingers through your hair. You broke the kiss immediately when you felt the slight grip in your hair from Adonis. He slid into you roughly and lifted your left leg, fucking you from the side while pulling your hair. The mix of passion and pain sent you through the roof as he let go of your leg and put an arch in your back from pulling your hair, he pulled you into a sloppy kiss and let go to stroke deeper. "Fuck!" you groaned as you felt yourself cumming again. Because of this, Adonis bit your shoulder and continued stroking you sloppily until he came, releasing into you, you felt exhausted; nonetheless satisfied.

Sighing, heavily you rolled over on top of Adonis and kissed him, looking up at him he noticed the gleam in your eye. The familiar gleam which revealed, he fucked up. From what he could tell, you hadn't had sex in awhile, so to give it to you like this, and cum in you; he knew he had you; but this isn't quite where he wanted you either. "Damn Donnie" you joked leaning up to kiss you. "I could say the same about you, you don't hold back at all do you" he questioned. "So much for doing getting high tonight" he joked. You smiled and sat up to kiss him even more. "Stay the night" you said straddling him. "I have a client in a few hours, you should stop by the gym tomorrow" Adonis said. "We can go in together tomorrow, stay the night" you teased kissing him.

"Babygirl, not tonight. It's an important client" he argued. Ignoring him, you continued to kiss at his neck , down to his chest, his stomach, and to his deep v. Kissing the divine v- that lead to his juicy member, you took all of his pleasure stick down your throat effortlessly. Your tongue sucked on the sides of his shaft while cupping his balls. Adonis groaned in pleasure as a handful of your hair was in his hands. You popped him out of your mouth and looked up at him. "You won't be able to get out of bed after this" you teased going back down on him, stroking him with your hand while sucking the tip. Moaning on his dick, you stared at him watching as his eyes rolled to the back of his head, his groans filled the air as the music continued to play.

Rocket by Beyoncé

You continued to stroke him, keeping him lubricated, Adonis released inside as you sucked him dry, leaving no drip left to drop. Swallowing, Adonis released his grip on your hair and pulled you into a kiss. He kissed you roughly, gripping your ass. He bit your bottom lip roughly, sucking on it. "I'm bout to put you to sleep, you'll be sorry I stayed the night" he barked slapping your ass.

#erik killmonger #original story #killmonger smut #killmonger imagine #erik stevens #fanfiction #seduction

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calumance · 4 years ago

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LA Devotee - Part XX

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: Mikayla gives Emily some good news all the while Emily is determined to make time to go see Calum.

A/N: I’m sorry this is so long coming!! I hope you all like it! 🥰🥰🥰 Feedback and requests are always welcomed! (Want to be added to my tag list? Let me know!)

Masterlist

When I walked into the office, Mikayla was already sitting at her desk. The second we locked eyes, she jumped out of her chair and followed me into my office. “You look exhausted, Emily.” I raised my eyebrows and set my mug down on my desk. Mikayla played with her fingers and bounced on her feet, taking my silence as an agreement that I am indeed exhausted. She dropped her hands to her side as I walked towards the windows to open the blinds. “So, I wanted to tell you Trevor and I set a date.”

I spun around, the exhaustion subsiding for a minute, “That’s amazing! What day did you decide?” As I walked away from the window, Mikayla chewed on her bottom lip, a smile pulling at the corner.

She looked down at her feet, “January 26th of next year.” My hands clapped together before reaching out and pulling her into a hug. She has always told me how much she wanted a winter wedding. “Do you think Calum will be home from tour by then?”

My eyebrows narrowed, not really having his tour schedule memorized. I reached up and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear and shrugged. “I’m not sure, I’ll have to ask him.”

Mikayla nodded and rocked on her feet. “Trevor and I are having an engagement party this weekend and with you being my maid of honor and all,” I stopped dead in my tracks. It’s not like I didn’t think she was going to include me in her wedding, I just didn’t think I was maid of honor worthy. My eyes met Mikayla’s and a grin grew across her face. A squeal escaped my chest and I hopped up and down and threw my hands around her.

I shook her before putting my hands on her shoulder and pushed her away, “Yes, yes, I’ll be there. When and where?”

“Saturday, my house, eleven in the morning.” She smiled and I nodded. I wouldn’t miss my best friends engagement party for anything.

Before I went home for the evening, I stopped over at Crystal’s house and picked up Duke. His tail wagging vigorously as he bounded towards me when he saw me walk through the door. He licked my face as I picked him up and gave his chin a soft scratch. I thanked Crystal again for watching him for a couple days and headed out the front door. Duke sat happily in the front seat, panting and looking out the window as we drove the five minutes home. Once we got home, and I opened the car door, Duke went running to the front door, turning back to look at me as if to ask if I would hurry up. I chuckled at him and opened the door, to which he responded by running inside and immediately jumping on the couch.

As Duke curled up into a ball on the couch, I took a picture of the three sticky notes I found. After I took the picture, I sent it to Calum with a quick message saying “You’re so cheesy. It made my day. Thank you. Sorry for texting you at two in the morning there. Duke and I just got home. Call me when you wake up, maybe we can Face Time for a little bit? Xx” After making some dinner, Duke and I hung out on the couch, a bowl of popcorn sitting in my lap as we watched Stuck In Love together. Once the movie was over, I stood up and called him to go to bed. We walked around the house together before finally ending up in the bedroom. Duke immediately found a comfortable spot on the bed and I took a bit more time to brush my teeth and change into pajamas. After I crawled into bed, I was out like a light.

My phone ringing caused both Duke and I to jump. With my heart racing faster than a race horse, I grabbed my phone and saw Calum calling over Face Time. To try to calm my heartbeat, I sat up and pressed my hand on my forehead. A sigh escaped my chest as my finger slid across the screen to answer the call. It was light in his hotel room, it had been so long since we Face Timed that I felt like crying when I saw his face. It looked as if he had just gotten out the shower, he was shirtless, and his hair looked like he just ran a towel through it. “It took a lot of debating with myself if I wanted to Face Time you or not since I know it’s two in the morning there.” I looked over at the clock, not even realizing what time it was. I nodded and looked back at the phone “Just, wanted to see your face again, and we have an incredibly busy day today, so I didn’t know when I was going to have time to call you.”

My hand dropped from my head and I chuckled. “It’s fine. I don’t mind waking up to talk to you. How’s London?” Duke and I made eye contact and his tail wagged, causing me to smile and reach over and rub his fuzzy little head.

He walked over to the window and looked out, keeping the camera facing him. “It’s alright. Would be better if you were here. I saw that you found all my notes.” He smiled and walked through his room, and propped his phone against something as he rifled through his suitcase, eventually pulling out a comb.

“I did, they were very cute, thank you.” As I watched him comb through his hair, I pulled my knees to my chest, and wrapped my arms around my legs. I placed my chin on my knees and rubbed my right eye.

He must’ve seen me out of the corner of his eyes, because he stopped combing his hair and grabbed his phone. “I’m sorry, sunshine, do you want me to let you get back to sleep? You have to work today, right?”

I stopped rubbing my eye and shook my head. “I have to work, but I don’t want you to hang up.” He just nodded and set his phone down where it had been. He rifled through his suitcase and grabbed a tub of hair gel and started styling his hair. “I wish you were here, Calum. Mikayla is having her engagement party on Saturday, and she asked me to be her maid of honor, and as exciting as that is, I wish I could attend the party with my boyfriend.” My bottom lip found its way between my teeth as Calum slowed his hands and looked at the phone, his eyebrows pulling down in sympathy.

After a couple more flicks of his hair, he set everything down and grabbed his phone, his face taking up my whole screen. He smiled and I took a screen shot. “That’s incredibly exciting that she asked you to be her maid of honor. I’m sorry I can’t be there, sunshine. Unfortunately, I can’t do a lot of ‘boyfriend’ things.” His smiled faded and his head dropped.

“No, I know, and that’s okay. I still think you’re a more than perfect boyfriend, even though you’re not here. It would just be nice to show you off to all of my friends, and other people I don’t know.” I shrugged and switched my phone to the other hand to rub my other eye. The feeling of being woken up from a dead sleep finally catching up to me.

He pulled his eyebrows together and hummed. “Have you thought about taking a cardboard cutout?” I laughed and shook my head. Just as he was about to say something, I could hear a knock on the door. He stayed on the call as he walked to the door and opened it, a voice on the other side saying something about them leaving in five minutes. He mumbled an okay and shut the door. “I have to go, sunshine. How do I look?” He turned the camera around and stood in front of the mirror. He was wearing a black tank top under a black leather bomber jacket, black dress pants and two chains around his neck. With how he had focused the camera, I couldn’t see what his shoes looked like. It didn’t matter, my heart still skipped a beat, and my stomach still did a back flip.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “You look amazing, have a great day, Cal.”

He kept the camera facing the mirror as he smiled, “Thank you, you too, my love. Get some sleep. Talk to you later. “ He waved into the mirror, and I smiled and waved back. With that, he ended the call and I fell back, my head gently landing on my pillow. My eyes closed and I placed my phone on the side table and then curled back into a ball. That’s it, tomorrow I am going to schedule a week off and I am going to go see him. I can’t take this anymore.

As I walked into the office in the morning, I held my head high in confidence. There was nothing that was going to stop me from seeing him. The door clicked shut as my boss looked at me over the top of her glasses. I took a breath, “I know I just got back from the conference, but that really got in the way of seeing my boyfriend, so I’m taking another week to go see him.” I waited for her to light me up about planning my time off better, or I couldn’t take two weeks so close together. Instead, she give me a small smile, a quick nod and then she got back to her work. A bit surprised, I turned and walked out of her office without another word.

I wanted to surprise him, so to plan everything, I called Michael. Together we worked to figure out when they were traveling the least, which makes visiting the best. He helped me book a flight, and even set up with one of their crew members to pick me up from the airport. Before the end of the day, we had a plan, I would get picked up from the airport, I would be driven to the hotel, Michael would meet me in the lobby and then take me to Calum’s room. It was fool proof, but before I could get there, I had to go to Mikayla and Trevor’s engagement party, and make it through another full week of work.

Friday night Mikayla and I had gone shopping for outfits to wear to the party. She picked out a very simple white sundress, which had made me want to wear something similar, but she picked out a spaghetti strap, asymmetric dress that barely had a back to it. It was maroon, and completely stunning, but maybe a bit much for an engagement party. However, Mikayla begged that I got it and wore it for her. So, I agreed. When my alarm went off, I immediately jumped in the shower and started getting ready. The plan being to leave the house around ten-thirty to be there just before eleven. I had curled my hair and left it down over my shoulders, hoping that it gave the dress a bit more coverage. My eyeshadow stayed neutral, but my lipstick was dark and matched the dress almost perfectly.

I was just about finished getting ready when my phone started to ring. The clock told me it was ten here, which meant it was six in the evening where he was. Calum and I had agreed to switch off who woke up at an ungodly hour to call the other one. He had volunteered to make an extra call before he went on stage when he heard about the dress I bought. When I answered, I held the phone in just the right way that he couldn’t see the dress. He looked stage ready, his in-ear monitors hanging off the top of his ears. His hair was combed through, but not really styled. His eyebrows raised when he took his first look at me. He looked around the room and then moved to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. “Sorry, I want to see this in private.” He chuckled. “Your lipstick reminds me of the lipstick color you were wearing the night we met; I just absolutely love that color on you.”

My cheeks burned and I looked down to hide it. My eyes met with his again and I began to set my phone up so I could show him everything. “I think you’re going to like this dress then.” He chewed on his bottom lip as I set my phone down and backed up, showing the front, which had a very deep v neck. A smiled twitched at the corner of his lips and I turned to show him the back, the straps crossing and meeting the fabric of the dress at my waist. When I turned back around he had placed the middle knuckle of his pointer finger between his teeth and was smiling from ear to ear. “What do you think?”

He raised his eyebrows and dropped his hand. “I think that if I were there I’d be showing you off to people you know and don’t know. Also not sure how long that dress would last once we got home.” He smirked and raised a single eyebrow.

Even though my cheeks flushed, I still rolled my eyes with a chuckle, “Calum, keep it in your pants, for now.” He laughed and apologized, “How much time do you have left?” Calum looked at the time and told me he had ten minutes left. “Perfect. I’ll be right back.” I ran into the closet and grabbed two pairs of shoes. Both were black, both were high heels, but one pair was the pair I had with the strap around the ankle and one on the toe, the other a pair just some simple wedges. When I came back into view, I held both pairs up. “Which pair do you think would go better?”

He hummed for a second, his eyes flickers back and forth. “The sandals. I think those look nice on you no matter what you wear.” He smiled a sweet smile and leaned his head against his hands.

“Thanks, Cal. Have an amazing performance, is it my turn to call or your turn?” He lifted his eyes to the ceiling in thought, then told me it was mine. “Okay, I’ll talk to you later then.” He nodded in agreement, and we said our goodbyes to each other. After the call ended, I sat on the end of the bed and put my shoes on. Before I left the house, I made sure Duke had food and water, then I dropped my lipstick in my purse and walked out the front door, locking it behind me.

When I got to Mikayla’s house, there were only a couple of cars. From what she has told me, it looked like her parent’s cars, and maybe Trevor’s parent’s cars. My heels clacked on the ground as I made my way up the stone pavement to her front door. Before I rang the doorbell, I tucked my hair behind my ear. After the doorbell sounded, I heard loud footsteps from the other side of the door. The door swung open and Mikayla stood on the other side, a smile plastered on her face. Her brown hair was curled, hanging over her shoulders. Her makeup was classy, but very extravagant, obvious that it probably took her hours to do. She was wearing the white sundress she had bought the day before and a pair of white heels that I have seen her wear to work many times. She squealed when she saw me and threw her arms around me, “Come in, come in! I want you to meet my parents. I’ve told them so much about you.”

After I stepped through the threshold into her home, she shut the door behind me and then grabbed my hand. She pulled me through the house and into the kitchen, standing there was a couple who, just by looking at them, you could tell they were Mikayla’s parents. Mikayla was exactly what you would expect a mixture of those two people would look like. She introduced them to me as Amy and Glenn. I shook their hands and Amy grew a large, sweet smile. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, dear. Mikayla has told us so much about you, and how much she adores you.” My cheeks flushed and I looked at Mikayla who was beaming. “Mikayla also told me that you have an incredibly handsome boyfriend, is he here as well?”

It was inevitable that I was going to be asked about him, but I wasn’t expecting it to be so soon. Mikayla gave her mom a look as my heart sank into my stomach. “Uh, no. He’s out of the country for work for a while. He’ll probably be around for the wedding, though.” I nodded and faked a smile looking back at Amy. Amy nodded, suddenly looking uneasy. I took a silent breath and looked at Mikayla, “So, uh, where can I find the drinks?” Mikayla smiled and took a breath, catching the vibe I was sending her.

“I’ll show you.” She grabbed my hand and started to walk me out of the kitchen and towards her backyard. “I’m sorry, Emily. I told her that he wasn’t going to be here, she just doesn’t listen.” She opened the door towards her backyard, and we both stepped onto her deck.

Immediately I saw the cooler that contained the drinks. I flicked my hair over my shoulder as I leaned down and opened it to grab one out. “It’s okay.” After I flicked the water off my hands, I twisted the cap off the bottle. “The only reason it hurts is because of how badly I want him to be here. I’d love to sit here and gush about him all day, but it’s hard when he’s not here.” I threw my head back and took a big swig out of the drink, licking my lips afterwards. My eyes caressed the bottle like it was the best thing I’d ever seen then looked at Mikayla who gave me a completely fake smile.

After the fake smile left her face, she shook her head and chuckled, “Will you at least try to have a good time today? For me?” I nodded at her while taking another long drink from the glass bottle. She let out an audible sigh and dipped her head.

It honestly wasn’t that bad; I met plenty of lovely people. The only part that was horrible was when Mikayla’s grandmother so innocently asked me when I was going to get married. I almost laughed in her face, but I controlled myself and told her, “Oh, probably not until I’m seventy-two, Nana.” She laughed at that and patted my arm sweetly. Out of respect for Mikayla, I was the last one to leave, but I was honestly so grateful to be on my way home. When I pulled into the driveway, I put my head on the steering wheel and let out a sigh. After a second of sitting there with my thoughts, I popped open the door and made my way inside.

No matter how many times it happens, I will never get over how great it is to have a creature be as excited as your dog is when you walk through the door. As I close the front door behind me, Duke let’s out a little bark and then comes sprinting towards me. He stops and puts his front paws on my leg. I let out a chuckle and squat down to allow him to cover my entire face in kisses. “I missed you too, buddy.” I tell him as I scratch behind his ears. Together, we make our way into the bedroom so I can change into comfy clothes. As I sat on the bed, I started my countdown to when I could see Calum again; six days.

************

Tag list: @notinthesameguey @viiirg0 @thinkofmehlgh @another-lonely-heart @limer-encia @itsmytimetoodream @babyoria @treatallwithkindness @karajaynetoday

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xec · 5 years ago

Photo

EDIT: AN UPDATED VERSION OF THIS POST CAN BE FOUND HERE.

hi everyone! i've been asked a few times to make a gifing tutorial, but there are already so many of those and i don't think there's that much to learn from a step-by-step guide, plus the instructions tend to be complicated and hard to follow, so i decided to instead make a "general tips" type guide to help up-and-coming creators. i'm not a master gifmaker by any means, but i've been doing this for 7+ years and i've learned a few things along the way that i am happy to share with you all! ♡

please keep in mind: this guide presupposes that you have a basic knowledge of the gifmaking process, like how to import footage to photoshop and use the timeline. with that said, let's get into it!

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i. capture your own footage. i know this option is not realistic for everyone, but if you have a good enough computer to run games on medium-high settings, i recommend recording your own footage and using that instead of taking something from youtube. not only will the uncompresed material look better, but you also have a lot more control over things like camera placement, mods, skins, settings, etc. that you simply don't have when using someone else's footage.

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ii. use 60fps footage instead of 30fps. record in 60fps, or download videos in 60fps when you can. this contributes hugely to making your gifs look smoother. keep in mind that it also limits how long you can make your gif, since you'll be using twice the amount of frames for the same scene, making it a larger file size. it's up to you to decide whether the tradeoff is worth it. i personally find that 30fps looks perfectly fine in gifs where there's not a lot of movement, but for character/action shots you'll generally want to use 60fps. here is a shot with some movement to demonstrate the difference:

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iii. use avisynth. this is a big one. if you want your gifs to look smooth, crisp, and uncompressed, this is the key step. video players like kmp and potplayer extract frames as pngs, bmps or jpegs, which makes them lossy/grainy/less colorful. avisynth simply crops and shrinks existing footage to your desired parameters, so your final footage is completely lossless and perfectly crisp. it takes a bit more effort and time, but you make up for it by not having to sharpen or color correct at all. the difference in quality is noticable, especially with darker gifs that would normally look jagged and grainy. here is an excellent tutorial on how to install and use avisynth.

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iv. use gradients. i do this a lot, especially with scenery gifs. adding a lighter gradient to the edges of your gifs will make the rest of the colors pop more. simply paint over the sides with a soft brush and a medium/dark color, set the blend mode to screen, and ta-da! the difference is subtle, but your gif inexplicably looks a million times better. it's science, folks.

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v. delete duplicate frames. this step is not mandatory but it will help you achieve a "smoother" look. you can do this with all gif types — go through all your frames one by one and make sure there aren't two that are exactly the same — but it's particularly important for 2d animation. without doing this your gifs might look choppy and unfinished. the alternative is to simply speed up your gif until the duplicate frames are no longer noticeable, but i recommend deleting them, since that way you will be saving on file size & upload time.

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vi. don't use the same coloring for all gifs. also not a hard and fast rule, but usually one single psd will not suit the lighting of every scene. you can always customize your coloring by either making your own, or downloading someone else's (yeahps and itsphotoshop have a lot of great ones) and tweaking it to your liking. everyone has their own style and you are not obligated to stick to whatever's popular at the moment. there are no rules when it comes to coloring except one: make sure you are not lightening the skintone of characters with deeper complexions.

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vii. and finally...don't be afraid to experiment! photoshop has a lot of buttons and gadgets that can be a little intimidating at first glance, but don't be afraid to give things a try; you might discover effects you never knew about and end up with an end result that you never would've expected.

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thank you for reading, i hope you learned something new from this post! if you implement any of these techniques, please feel free to tag me in your beautiful creations! ♡

#photoshop tutorial #gif tutorial #itsphotoshop #chaoticresources #yeahps

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judgement-free-sideblog · 5 years ago

Text

The enemy of love is the truth

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader

Summary: They were happy just as friends, but one morning the call from an old trauma may change everything.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, history of drug use, mental health issues, cursing, angst, a little smut, violence.

I want to apologize in advance, I did my fare share of smut between 2008 and 2011, jesus we called them lemons back then (I'm so old, sorry) but in my native language. And even if I wasn't out of practice translating that kind of scenes is a complete nightmare, so I'm so sorry for what you are going to read.

■Part I ■ Part II ■Part III ■ Part IV ■ Part V ■ Part VI ■ Part VII ■ Part VIII | Final ■

Part VI

"She invited you to ex's wedding?" Charlie said squatting out of breath, it was almost 8:00 am and they had been running since 7:00. "Don't you think it will be a bit inappropriate? I mean what if she still have feelings for that guy? God I need to lie down"

"Technically I invited myself..." Tom started also taking big breaths "Oh don't look at me like that, she they broke up long time ago, and even if she is not over him she would need support there, isn't that right Bobby??" He knelt to pet his dog, who looked at them puzzled by how tired they seemed to be.

"So, when is the big day?" He said finally standing up.

"Saturday, but apparently we are going to a small diner on friday night, the whole event is in a Hotel in West Yorkshire, and I don't feel like driving four hours in the same day"

"If I don't know you better I would say you're a brilliant bastard" he said choking out a laugh.

"Why?"

"Nice romantic hotel in the country, the emotional vulnerability of seeing your ex getting married, the comfort of the nice blue eyes of a loving friend" he said making and exaggerate gesture to Tom's face "But is you so ai assume you won't even share a room platonically"

"You are completely out of your mind" he said laughing "although it is a nice place, look" He showed him the electronic invitation where both bride and groom smiled to each other in front of the hotel.

"Is that the guy? Well she certainly had a type" he said studying the picture "I mean if he were older or a bit more fit he would look just like you" Tom look at the picture again not finding the resemblance "I'll tell you something if you guys finally do hook up could you wait until March to tell people? I said 3 years and 1 month and Zawe said 3 years exactly and I don't feel like letting her win."

"Do you really have a betting pool about us? Don't worry, I wouldn't tell you anything even of something happens" he said with a chuckle and they continued their run.

On friday at 3:00 p.m. he showed up at Y/N's place, with Charlie's words still resonating in his head, he found her in a beautiful burgundy off shoulder column cocktail dress and black heels, making this the third time he ever saw her in a dress, it was a big difference from the usual sneakers and hoodies, not a bad one but he couldn't help a bit of jealousy thinking this was for someone else.

"Stop staring at me, I know it's ridiculous and I'm gonna break my bloody neck with this things" She said showing him the fragile tip of one of the heels, he smiled founding his friend true nature even in that situation. "Stupid dress codes, is it too late to stay home? I have a rosé in the fridge wwith your name on it if you let me..."

"And losing the opportunity of seeing you roll your eyes at every old men comments on the country's economy?" He said putting her back inside the car and immediately after offering her hand to enter the car "Not a chance. You look lovely by the way"

"I won't roll my eyes at them, believe it or not, I do know how to handle myself in social events" She put on her seatbelt and he started the car turning on the GPS "Is the idea of meeting our old friends from uni and his parents what freaks me out, they must think I'm some kind of monster"

Our for some reason that word hurt more than it should, he brushed off the idea from his head again, jealous was an useless emotion to him and a dangerous one too in some people, and he was determined to not let them get the best of him.

"I don't think they would have invited you if they felt like that, or at least not to the rehearsal dinner too if that was the case." He said taking an exit indicated in the GPS.

"You clearly don't know Agnes Hawtrey" He briefly turn to her intrigued "David's mother, she is a rich harpy obsessed with showing everyone all the money their family has. I feel sorry for her future daughter in law, but since they actually getting married I assume she is not some Liberal brat who thinks spending Christmas in Libya is appropriate" She said imitating an high pitch voice with a posh accent.

"Why Libya?"

"Medecins sans frontiers" She answered "I volunteered to work with them in my holidays and David followed me a couple times. Agnes hated me for it, I actually think she was happy when I left him."

"Do you speak french?" He asked again trying to change the subject.

"Enough to work with them, but I'm completely rusty by now" she answered "I know it's too much effort to escape a suffocating relationship" the angry beast that had formed in his chest began to fade thanks to the idea of she not being entirely happy with the other guy, so he decided to approach the problem differently.

"I don't understand how do you end up together in the first place, you are too much of a free spirit to be around someone like that" He said, by now the city was getting behind them and he could start driving faster.

"Well my family is actually quite wealthy" She started causing a puzzled expression in his face "I reject any form of help from them and live on my own, but I did play my part in society for a while, so it seemed meant to be at the time. Of course I turned out to be a rotten apple and at some point I believe I was his excuse to hide how much he didn't enjoy their life style. I told you he was no saint, and maybe those where our finest moments" She said with a nostalgic smile, as if she remembered an specially pleasing memory. "But real life happened, you know? You are gonna like him don't worry"

"Well he sounds like a decent men" he said bitterly because his idea backfired "Music?"

They spend the rest of the trip talking about meaningless topics and singing along with the radio, by the time they eentered Yorkshire it was seven in the afternoon and the sun was standing to hide, the Waterton Perk hotel was magnificent, romantic and secluded as Charlie said, in the middle of a lake connected to land by a bridge full with trees naked by the winter that make the mansion looking more as something out of a fairytale.

He helped her out of the car and enjoyed having her body close to him while they crossed the bridge preventing her to fall with her heels. They entered a small lounge where people where waiting for the dinner to be served. As she had said earlier that week most of the people attending were old family friends of the bride and groom, and not many young faces were in the crowd. Except from those who he believed were the Uni friends, he introduced himself and even took a picture with one of the girls who had a similar reaction as Y/N when she met him.

Y/N was now chatting, a few meters away, more comfortable with them expecting the arrival of the main guests, while a couple of people were distracting Tom, complimenting his performance as Coriolanus a few years back and praising his Robert Down, so he couldn't notice the old woman, elegantly dressed in a light gray dress walking towards Y/N and dragging her apart from her friends, until she start talking in that high pitch voice Y/N had imitated very well earlier.

"How dare you showing your face in here?" The woman said to her while the young woman only remind silent not meeting her gaze "You spoiled ridiculous brat, after what you did to my boy, you should be ashamed..."

"Relax Agnes," She finally said lifting her look, Tom then was about to intervene but he could se a quiet rage behind her otherwise unaffected face, and felt forced to stay and watch "Let me remind you that your son invited me. And the last time I checked you are not David, also if you cared a little about your precious boy you wouldn't be making a fool of yourself in front of your guests" People where now standing very close to them listening every word the women said.

"You are right dear," Agnes started with a tone that said just the opposite, but smiling regaining her composure "After all how can I expect manners from a little trash from Devon anyway" Y/N let out a sarcastic laugh at the remark against her hometown and looked at her while the elder woman turned her back on her.

"Of course because the loose daughter of a fisherman as you called me can't be a suitable in law for you, I honestly pity the poor woman who has to have you in her life, I hope you can control her since you couldn't do it with me...

Her sentence die in the air because an old hand full of rings slapped her before she could finish, a red mark started forming in Y/N face, an she was fighting the tears, both from the humiliation and the hurt, from coming out of her eyes. Tom could see Agnes hand getting ready to hit her again while he tried to reach Y/N when a hand stopped her out of nowhere and spoke with a deep angry voice.

"That's enough mother" The infamous David was there, holding her mother still and standing in front of Y/N as a shield, all welled dressed and athletic, she looked tiny behind him and the beast inside Tom's chest started growling again. "Dad I asked you to watch her, Diane will be here any minute and I can't have this happening right now" The man who Tom assume was his father took agnes outside of the room and the rest of the people returned to their conversations as if nothing happened, finally allowing him to get closer. "Are you ok baby?" He said looking finally at Y/N offering his handkerchief to wipe her tears, that last word burned like fire in Tom's ears, he was now facing her with his back to Tom, and the bright smile that she gave him when she answered was making him sick

"It's okay sweetheart" She give back the handkerchief and give the man a good look "Let her have it, she has wanted to do that for 15 years, it's only fare, you look amazing, I'm so happy for you" She hugged him and the familiarity he showed holding her, made Tom's blood boil, he wanted to get him apart from her immediately, and take her far away from him and the poisonous thought of they together for years was corrupting his mind, there it was, jealousy cold and simple, the only thing his mind kept telling him was: He had her, and you don't. He had her for years, just the way you want her, she was his.

"And where is your something like that, I'm dying to met the lad" He said letting her go.

"Right behind you" she said completely ignoring the change in Tom's expression who was looking at the two with his mind apparently somewhere else. "Tom this is David." She said calling his name and breaking the murderous thoughts he was having.

"Sorry I wake you up the other night mate... Bloody hell you beautiful minx you did it!" He said loudly hugging her by the shoulder and then, much to his displeasure, Tom "Years obsessed with him, and drooling to his posters in our house and here you are inviting him to my wedding, I must say girl you made it! congratulations." She started turning red again but this time from the embarrassment, and Tom finally relaxed, something about David's personality make it impossible for him to be angry, maybe it was the fact that he was genuinely happy and how could he not? It was his wedding after all.

"Posters?" He asked enjoying the desperation in Y/N eyes urging him to change the subject.

"Posters, dvds, tshirts, you name it, she dragged me to watch your movies like four times each time they were on the cinema and then watched them on repeat at our flat" He recalled with exasperation "Don't get me wrong you are a fine looking man but not my type"

"Oh god, I think I'm going to find your mother to slap me again" She said covering her face "Please, I beg you stop talking"

"Let the man finish, it's the most compelling history" Tom said and while he put his arm around her waist taking her close to him.

"I'm glad to see you two together, I was so relieved when she said she was bringing someone, not like she needs anyone" He said anticipating her reaction proving to Tom just how much he knew her "But you two look actually happy together, and she's the most wonderful person" Y/N was about to clear things out when Tom wink at her and pressed her a little closer to him.

"She actually is, and we are very happy" He said giving him one of signature smiles "Is that your bride?" A young looking woman entered the room with a beautiful pale pink dress, and she looked at them completely baffled.

"Oh yes baby, that's my Diane" the man said and Tom felt ashamed for his brief jealous attack as the man seemed to call everyone baby. "Guess who we wake up the other morning dear?" The man said urging the girl to join them.

"Oh my goodness" The woman started "Are you...?" Tom smiled and politely introduce himself, and David then introduced both women "I am so sorry about the other morning, I told David to wait until noon when we were in Pakistan but he called you anyways, it was four in the morning right?"

"Yes, but never mind, what where you doing in Pakistan?" Y/N said now holding tight Tom's waist too.

"Building a hospital, Diane's foundation hired me a couple years ago and that's how we met, we've been living there for like five months, we were just going to elope a few weeks back, but I did this so I wouldn't cause my mother an aneurysm, but she had to accept my conditions to make it happen" He said proudly.

"Like inviting me?"

"That was actually my demand" Diane said with a little blush on her face "I really wanted to meet you, I heard so many wonderful things about you I thought maybe it was time for you to be friends again"

"And I told her we never stopped being friends in the first place, but she is stubborn, and I can't resist her" they started kissing like there were no one else in the room and Tom and Y/N look at each other nervously.

"Oi! Leave something for tomorrow" on of their friends called them from the dining room "The food is here come on"

The rest of the night went by without any other incident, apart for the perpetual state of happiness that David showed for Tom's presence, by the time the rest of the gests went to find their rooms Y/N and Tom were taking a last walk in the cold night, it was until they were at the entrance of the bridge that he noticed they were holding hands.

"Your boyfriend is quite a nice gentleman" he said teasing her.

"By the amount of wine he was trying to make you drink I would think he wants to be your boyfriend" she responded quickly. "Why did you told him we were together?" She question him now completely serious.

"I didn't thought you wanted to explain the nature of our relationship after what happened with his mother. So until the wedding is over I suppose I'm your boyfriend. How is your face by the way?" He said, not giving importance to the matter while they kept walking.

"It has been better. And thank you I suppose you are right, and it is nice to imagine what could have been, if I haven't been an idiot at the restaurant all those years ago, and not scaring you into not calling back" He stopped suddenly making them broke contact.

"That's why you think I didn't called?" He asked perplex "I couldn't care less about that ridiculous tantrum, if anything I was more interested in you for it" she was too astonished by his declaration to talk so he continued "I didn't asked you out again because you said I'll see you around I assumed you didn't want to be involved with me that way so I didn't push it."

"Well..." She started quietly with a sad half smile in her face "I did say that, with that precise intention, but secretly hoping for you to call anyway, and I even considered to ask you out myself, but then we became friends and, I don't know it was for the best, but nights like this one make me wonder if we made a mistake."

"Please never say that again" He took her face with both hands his hands and looked deeply in her eyes "Every day I have spend with you regardless of what our relationship may be, has been a blessing. I wouldn't change it for the world" she let go a sigh and her breath turn into vapor in the night, making them realize the cold weather. "I think we should get back inside, you are gonna freeze out here love, and what kind of fake boyfriend will I be if I let you become an ice lolly?". He offered her his arm so they could get back inside, his mind thinking too about how much he wanted to call her the minute he got home that day, but as always trying to respect her he didn't , and as always he calmed his regrets telling himself it was for the best, even if every passing day he felt more and more the opposite.

The room they had book was nice and comfortable, the big canopy bed in the middle was a beautiful promise of a long night of sleep and the window had a beautiful look at the lake. They both will be lying if they said this was the first night they have spend together, falling asleep talking in Tom's couch had happened more than half a dozen times, and even if Y/N never accepted it in front of her friends, she had stayed a couple of nights with him watching Bobby getting better, even sleeping in the same bed completley completely consumed by fatigue, so there was no awkwardness between them about consciously sharing the bed.

She took her heels off and found her silky romper pyjama in her suit case next to her travel size copy of Wuthering Heights, wich she occasionally read when she traveled and with the look outside the mansion it seemed appropriate, Y/N sit in the armchair in the corner of the room to read, waiting for Tom to get out of the shower, after reading four times the same paragraph without getting anything from it she realized just how tired she was.

She heard the door opened and saw him getting out of the shower whit just a pair of black loose sweatpants dangling from his hips and a thin line of pubic hair crawling up from the waistband dying in his perfect abs, drying his hair with a towel.

"What?" He asked her looking at her finally. "Do you feel alright darling?"

"I'm just tired" she said quickly taking her clothes and getting into the bathroom for a much needed cold shower. When she stepped out after drying her hair she almost fell down because he had turned out all of the lights and was already deeply sleeping, she'll have time to nagging him about how inconsiderate that was in the morning, she entered the bed and close her eyes trying to drift apart and think about nothing when she felt his arms suddenly trapping her and bringing her closer to him by her waist.

She didn't mind since they had cuddled like that before, even when this particular time she could feel the bare skin of his chest in her back, but then the hand that was holding her started moving slowly caressing her belly and some parts she often felt self conscious about, then slowly moving down to her thigh, she was about to finally move and stop him when she felt his breath behind her back and his deep voice in her ear.

"Are you awake?"

"Yes" Y/N said in a tiny whisper while his hand found her way under the fabric of her romper.

"Are you cold again?" He asked this time brushing his nose in her neck, every inch of her skin was reacting to his touch and the deep tone of his voice was making her wet "you are shaking"

"It's not about that" she answered incapable of moving only embracing the magnificent sensations she was receiving.

"Am I making you feel uncomfortable?" His hand had finally found her lacy panties and he had stopped only touching the seam waiting for her permission to continue. "Do you want this to happen?" He said stopping his movements completely, she could feel her heart racing and all logic flying away.

"Yes, I want it" she said finally and he caressed her womanhood over the thin fabric, making her soaked, while his other hand tried to remove the top part of her jumper sliding down the traps leaving her braless chest exposed.

"Naughty girl" He said with a chuckle leaving a trace of kisses in her back and cupping her breast in his hand playing with her niple until it was hard and them pinching it to get her in that point between pain and pleasure.

He move apart the fabric of her panties and let one of his long digits inside her making her moan in pleasure and impatiently brushing her thighs together desperate for more friction, she could feel his arousal pressing firmly in her buttocks, and all this anticipation was only to torture her.

"Don't be impatient my dear" he said letting in another finger and curling them inside her, touching her right on the spot to make her lost her mind "Tell me that you want it Y/N" he order her and she let go another moan.

"Fuck me Tom, fuck me please!" She said and he immediately took his fingers out to pin her in the bed under him.

He finished taking the rest of her clothes in one movement and opened her legs ready to enter her, he give her one last deep look with those piercing blue eyes and he bend to kiss her...

"You should take a shower or at least put on something more comfortable" Tom face said suddenly wearing his glasses and fully clothed. Y/N blink twice, before shaking the sleepiness, and trying to figure out what was happening. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up, but I thought you may want to shower before going to sleep"

She finally opened her eyes completely and could see him out of the shower on his pijamas, her silky romper still waiting for her to take a shower and her book comfortably resting on the lamp stand next to her.

"Yeah sure, I'm too tired I must have fallen asleep, thanks for waking me up" she said avoiding his look and desperately picking up her fresh clothes.

"Sure love, you can't be at the wedding with a crooked neck" he said picking up the book she was reading. "You were moving a lot so I imagine that armchair can't be comfortable" he said with a distracted smile and she went straight to the bathroom before turning red of embarrassment.

Y/N slammed the bathroom door closed, and Tom stood next to the armchair looking where she was just moments before, once he heard the water fall in the shower he massaged his temples, trying to erase from his mind what he had seen but it was impossible and he really didn't want to forget it. She was sweating and panting when he got out of the shower, and the neckline of her dress a was a little lower than usual perfectly countoring her breasts.

He stood there looking at her and it took him just one more second to realized what kind of dream she must've been having. Blushing and feeling like a pervert he walked back into the bathroom determined to make as much noise as he could to wake her up when he heard her moan. Fuck me Tom, fuck me please! He walked back to her and before the blood abandoned his brain entirely, to migrate to his lower region, he did the logical thing and wake her up.

He exhaled feeling like and idiot. This was going to be a long weekend.

#Tom Hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston smut #charlie cox #zawe ashton #robert and emma betrayal #great britain #bobby hiddleston #love #friendship #smut #angst #sweet dreams #lucid dreaming #slap #monster in law

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acediian · 5 years ago

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—𝓉𝑜𝓋𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜𝓃'𝓈 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝑔𝒾𝒻𝓉 (𝓋𝒾.)

thanos x original character fanfiction | pre-infinity war | 3.6k words +

a/n: wedding day!!! it’s here!!! and they’re both miserable! wedding of the century! :p

chapters i. ii. iii. iv. v. vi.

Amidst a flurry of individuals around her, Aerendis stared straight ahead at the reflection in the mirror. What she saw was a great Tovarion beauty staring back at her. One whose silvery skin glittered in the late afternoon sunlight, its luminescence only enhanced by an elegant sheen of soft makeup. Her long, dark hair was draped elegantly over her shoulders, half of it braided away from her face and held back with a glittering silver tiara. She looked every bit a Tovarion bride, but there was a solemnity in her eyes that no bride should ever have on her wedding day.

A soft voice in her ear pulled Aerendis from her distant thoughts and back into the frenetic atmosphere of the room once again.

“Aerendis, your dress.”

The dressmaker, Olerys, had finally arrived - nearly too late by the queen’s account - trailed by a group of four handmaidens who held his creation delicately in their hands. He stopped before his princess and greeted her with a deep, flourishing bow. He seemed exhausted, and there was a tension in his smile that gave away his certain displeasure at having to deliver such an important gown on such short notice.

“What do you think, your highness?” he asked, gesturing to her dress.

Aerendis rose from her seat, reaching out to take a bit of the silken fabric between her fingers. “I cannot believe you’ve done this in a day,” she remarked, making an effort to flash a smile at the clearly relieved Olerys. “You have truly outdone yourself, my lord. It’s beautiful. Better than I could have imagined.”

It really was the most fabulous gown Olerys had ever made for her. Perfectly complementary to her elegant style while incorporating the colors and symbols of the royal family. It was a celebration of her and of Tovarion. All she wished was that she could have worn it on a day when her heart fluttered with happiness at marrying the one she loved instead of sunk with dread.

Olerys seemed floored. “Thank you, princess,” he gasped, bowing once again. “Thank you.” He required a moment to compose himself. “Shall… shall we see how it looks on you?”

“Please. Though I suppose I don’t have much of a choice, now, do I?” Aerendis gestured for the handmaidens to bring the flowing garment closer. Illaria, who had been among them, assisted her in removing her robe so the others could help her step into the gown.

Aerendis was breathless as they did up the buttons and she got her first glimpse at herself in the dress. It hugged her body perfectly from neck to hips, where it gave way to a waterfall of silver fabric that glittered with thousands of tiny jewels. Its bodice emulated traditional Tovari armor, with a silver breastplate that was intricately carved with images of the planet’s beautiful flora and fauna. Even its billowing sleeves, shoulderless and decorated with royal blue threading, flowed perfectly down to her wrists. There was not a single element of it that was not beautiful to her.

In the mirror, Aerendis could see the queen’s eyes welling with tears.

“Ama...”

Aredhyn stepped behind her daughter, gently placing her hands on her shoulders. There was a warmth and a sadness in her eyes that elicited a flutter in her daughter’s heart. “You look so beautiful, my darling.” One of her hands lifted to caress Aerendis’ cheek.

“Thank you, Ama,” she replied with a smile.

“I only wish that your father was here to see you.”

Aerendis found no joy or anticipation in her wedding day, but she, too, felt the void left behind by her father. True, his spirit surrounded them, but still she longed for his embrace, his presence, and his counsel on such an important day in her life. Her heart was truly heavy, for far more than one reason.

“Do you really think he would have approved of my husband to be?” the princess asked, raising a brow.

Aredhyn chuckled, moving around to her daughter’s front. “Decidedly not.” A hand lovingly moved a strand of her hair from behind her shoulder, letting it brush against the dress’ shining breastplate. “But he would have been proud of you. Of your choice, of your sacrifice. Devastated to see you leave, yes. But so proud nonetheless.” A warm, yet wistful glance passed between them. “I am, too. As your queen and your mother.”

“Thank you, Ama.”

Their preparations continued with a custom that all Tovari brides partook in on their wedding day: the sharing of blessings from every woman in her household. Starting with the queen, each woman who had attended the princess presented her with a different Tovari flower. Aerendis sat as, one by one, they placed each bloom in her lap. From her mother, the flower that symbolized love. From her aunt, one that would bless her with strength. Then flowers for prosperity, fertility, wisdom, faith, and happiness. All represented a pillar of marriage on Tovarion. Aerendis would carry them with her into the temple and emerge with their blessings to guide her in her wedded life.

Trembling fingers clutched the bouquet as Aerendis stared out of the carriage that ushered her and her mother through the sprawling city streets and to the temple. All of Tovarion, it seemed, had gathered for the occasion. No doubt, they had heard of what their princess had done for them and flocked to her side on the day of her wedding to the one she had stopped from decimating their entire planet. They cheered as she passed, tossing flowers in the wake of her carriage and making declarations of gratitude that caused her heart to soar and sink all at once.

Aerendis drank in the sight of them. Every face both young and old reminded her of why she had so confidently made such an impossible decision. Tovarion would endure. Tovarion would thrive.

“Our people will never forget this, Aerendis,” the queen said, her eyes also watching the faces of those they passed on the cobbled streets of the city.

“I know.” The princess turned her gaze to the great temple that rose high above the city skyline; a rectangular silver structure whose tall pillars reflected every hue of the sky above. Hundreds waited inside to watch their princess marry. Of course, the Mad Titan waited, too.

In her peripheral vision, Aerendis saw her mother remove something from around her neck. “Aerendis,” she said, extending a hand. The princess turned to see her mother’s amulet, its black stone catching the warmth of the setting sun in its many facets. “Take it.”

“But… that is the key to the vault.”

“And you have seen how to open the door,” the queen replied, pressing it into her daughter’s palm. “You are the one who extended this offer to Thanos. You must be the one to give him the stone.”

“You are certain?”Aerendis asked, and her mother nodded silently in response. She stared, agape, at the necklace for a long moment before placing it around her own neck. “I will.”

A softness came to the queen’s eyes. “It looks beautiful on you.”

“You think everything does, Ama.”

“Of course I do.” Aredhyn leaned forward to kiss her daughter’s forehead. “You are my daughter.”

The carriage slowed to a stop and one of the queensguard opened the door to assist his queen in exiting. Aerendis heard a roar of applause for her mother from those who waited outside of the temple. The queen had never been anything but loved by those that she served so faithfully.

“Princess?” the queensguard offered his hand to the princess this time, which she took.

Cradling the small bunch of flowers in the crook of her other arm, she carefully stepped out of the carriage and into the large square that lay before the temple. As her gown billowed around her, she was met with a wall of sound. Cheers erupted from the people of Tovarion, flowers landed at her feet, words of blessings met her ears.

A smile came and went as she moved towards the temple steps, where the high priestess Meylla awaited her arrival. Thanos stood by her side, clad in all his golden armor but his helm.

The priestess bowed deeply before her queen and princess. “Your highnesses.”

Aredhyn cupped her daughter’s cheek one last time, naught but love in her eyes as she withdrew to make her way up the temple steps. Erodhil waited for his mother at the top, and the two soon disappeared into the towering structure arm in arm.

“Princess,” Priestess Meylla continued with a kindly smile. “Take the arm of your betrothed and enter the house of the gods.”

Meeting Thanos’ gaze briefly, Aerendis did just so, lacing a hand around his forearm and placing her fingers delicately on the back of his hand. This was the way that all Tovari couples passed through the doors to the temple on their wedding day; two souls entwined that would depart again as one.

With him on the left and her on the right, they ascended the stairs. Aerendis held her head high despite the turmoil she felt inside; she was at peace with her choice, yet terrified all the same. On Tovarion, marriage was the most sacred of all promises that two individuals could make to one another. The sanctity of it was surely lost on him, an offworlder. This was merely another delay that separated him from the thing he had come to Tovarion to collect.

As the two of them reached the temple doors, the high priestess blessed them both using a branch of the Elder Tree. It was a symbol of life and faith for the Tovari people, having existed since the earliest days of their civilization. Many believed that it had originally sprouted from the soil that the gods had first touched after creating Tovarion. The sweet aroma of its white leaves filled Aerendis’ nose as Priestess Meylla touched it to her head, and then did the same to Thanos.

“With this blessing, the gods shall watch over you as leave behind your lives as individuals and take your first steps together,” the high priestess said, gesturing for them to proceed into the temple.

The woodsy smell of incense flooded over them as they passed through the stone doors and into the expansive house of the Tovari gods. Its pillars extended hundreds of feet upwards, meeting in a buttressed ceiling that bore statues depicting the four gods in each of its corners. Between each pillar, paneled windows allowed the evening sunlight to stream into the temple and bathe all present in its warm glow. At night, the same windows gave those at prayer an uninhibited view of the starlit sky above.

The temple was a familiar sight to Aerendis, who had spent a good portion of her life inside its walls. As a young girl, she had received several scoldings from her mother after chasing her brother around the atrium. As she emerged into adulthood, she had made her official dedication to the gods before all the priestesses and priests in the temple. Now, no longer a girl or young woman, she had come to make her most sacred promise of all.

Lining either side of the aisle that led to the silver altar stood hundreds of onlookers - nobles, royals, commoners, members of Thanos’ army. Aerendis felt every pair of eyes following them as they passed. The temple would have been all but silent if not for the soft, lulling music that accompanied their ascent to the altar.

It was likely the first time two souls had entered the temple to marry with no desire to do so. Something beyond nervousness twisted inside of Aerendis’ stomach. On the outside, however, she was a picture of grace and nobility.

Her silver dress flowed behind her as the two of them walked up the steps to the altar. The Priestess Meylla followed, beginning the prayer that opened every Tovari wedding ceremony. Sung in the planet’s native tongue, it was a prayer that invoked the gods to make holy this day in the lives of the two who had come to be wed. The high priestess also called upon them for their protection of Tovarion and to ensure its continued prosperity.

With the conclusion of the opening prayer, Priestess Meylla clasped her hands together. “Here we stand,” she continued in the common tongue, her voice echoing throughout the temple. “In the sight of gods and men, to witness the union of wife and husband. Aerendis, Princess Royal of Tovarion, and Thanos of Titan have come together before the gods to enter into the fellowship of marriage.”

Aerendis let out a soft sigh, her eyes falling shut for a brief moment. That knotting feeling only grew tighter.

“The princess will now present her husband with her bridegift.”

It was common for both halves of a Tovari couple to present the other with a gift - typically a family heirloom or some other item of sentimental value. Of course, Thanos was no Tovari and, as such, had surely prepared no gift for Aerendis. She supposed, however, that his gift had already come in the form of salvation for her people.

Erodhil stepped forward, delicately balancing a shining greatsword across both of his hands. He exchanged the heavy weapon for the flowers that his sister was carrying. As the sword settled into Aerendis’ hands, she ran a thumb against the intricately-carved blade. A lump formed in her throat.

“The sword of her father, King Erborg,” Priestess Meylla said, gesturing for the princess to transfer it to Thanos. “A symbol of strength and protection to guide you both in your years together.”

The greatsword was dwarfed in the Titan’s hands. It had seemed an imposing weapon in Aerendis’ youth, when she would see it on her father’s hip during every formal occasion. The first time he had let her hold it, she nearly fell over under its weight. Pure Tovari silver, nigh indestructible. It was a weapon fit for a king. Now it sat at her husband’s side, as it would for the rest of their days together.

Another prayer in Tovari followed, one that Aerendis dreaded to hear but knew must be included in every wedding ritual. A blessing on her father’s sword that they would one day pass it to their child. Her eyes flitted to Thanos, deeply thankful that he did not speak their language.

The presentation of the bridegift complete, Priestess Meylla stepped closer to them with her arms outstretched. “Take one another by the hand.”

Thanos offered his hand first. The princess took it, placing her own hand gently atop his open palm. As his long fingers closed entirely around it, the high priestess began to tightly encircle their joined hands in a piece of silk.

“May the fabric of your marriage go forever unbroken,” she said as she tied the silk into a knot. “May the gods’ watchful eyes never close on you. May you become one heart from this day until the end of time. What the gods have joined together, let no being, creature, or force seek to tear asunder.” She untied the ribbon, leaving their hands still holding the other and the blessing brought to fruition.

The soft music that had guided them to the altar continued, filing the silence in this, the sacred moment when wife and husband were joined together. All the while, Aerendis kept her hand inside of Thanos’.

“Now you shall make your vows to one another, here before your witnesses both mortal and divine,” Priestess Meylla eventually continued. “Turn and face one another.”

Both Aerendis and Thanos were equally expressionless as they turned and met the other’s eyes. They must have seemed laughably uncomfortable to all those who watched them. The people of Tovarion had never seen such a somber pair agree to join together in matrimony.

“Thanos of Titan, please speak these words to your bride,” the priestess said to him. “I take you as my wife, vowing to cherish and protect you.”

Aerendis saw his jaw tighten. “I take you as my wife, vowing to cherish and protect you,” he repeated flatly.

“In times of good fortune and in times of adversity,” she continued.

“In times of good fortune and in times of adversity.”

“I will honor you and be faithful to you from now until my final day.”

He drew in a deep breath. “I will honor you and be faithful to you from now until my final day.”

Priestess Meylla turned to her princess next. “Aerendis of Tovarion, please speak these words to your groom: I take you as my husband, vowing to cherish and protect you.”

Aerendis knew these vows meant nothing to Thanos, but in the eyes of her gods, they were as sacred as any prayer. She felt her mouth go dry. “I take you as my husband, vowing to cherish and protect you.”

“In times of good fortune and in times of adversity.”

“In times of good fortune and in times of adversity.” She was breathless as her heart pounded against her chest.

“I will honor you and be faithful to you from now until my final day.”

“I will honor you,” Aerendis took a breath, “and be faithful to you from now until my final day.”

Priestess Meylla turned to the altar, retrieving a large silver goblet bearing a dark red Tovari wine. “From this cup shall wife and husband drink,” she said, clasping it tightly in both hands. “This cup that I bless in the name of the gods, that they may, in turn, bless you in your everlasting union.”

She handed the goblet to Aerendis first. As the princess took a sip from it, she continued: “From this moment forth, you shall share everything in life. You shall double the other’s joys and halve the other’s sorrows.” Priestess Meylla watched the princess hand the cup to Thanos, who also drank from it. “You shall bear the burdens of the other and exalt their triumphs. Together you shall live in harmony, sharing in all things equally.”

Placing the cup aside, the priestess brought their hands together once again. Her next prayer was for only them, a wish for the newly married couple that only they would hear. Aerendis had bore witness to countless weddings in her life and always wondered what the priestess whispered to those who stood at the altar. A secret, personal thing meant for those who had pledged their lives to one another. The moment seemed decidedly less romantic and intimate now that she was the one to marry.

“Now you shall feel no storm, for you will be the other’s shelter,” Priestess Meylla began, her eyes closed and her voice soft. “You shall feel no cold, for you will be the other’s warmth. There shall be no loneliness, for you will be the other’s companion. There shall be no sorrow, for you will be the other’s comfort.”

Aerendis saw Thanos glance at her from the corner of her eye. Did he find these words as hollow as she?

“You have come as two souls, but there is only one life before you. You will share this life together, as the gods have intended for you. May happiness always be your companion and your days together be good and long.”

“Thank you,” Aerendis breathed, though her words hardly brought her the joy that she should have felt on what was supposed to have been such a happy day.

“Here, under the ever-watchful eyes of the gods,” Priestess Meylla said, addressing all in attendance once again. “Have these two individuals dedicated their lives to one another. From this day until the day they join their ancestors in the realm beyond. Look upon one another, now, as husband and wife, and seal your vows with a kiss.”

Priestess Meylla looked to the princess almost apologetically, but Aerendis knew it had been coming. No Tovari wedding ended without the couple displaying one final act of their dedication to one another through a kiss before the altar of the gods.

Aerendis, whose hand was still clasped in Thanos’ grasp, turned her eyes upward once again. The Tovari were by no means a small people, but his stature far surpassed her own. Almost comically so.

There was a distinct silence in the temple as all those present waited for the newly wed couple to come together in their first kiss. Aerendis watched as Thanos dropped to one knee before her, bringing him to just above her own height. His eyes were blue, something she had not noticed before. Eyes that had seen much conquest and destruction over the years. Eyes that closed along with her own as the two of them drew closer.

Her lips met his in a gentle whisper of a kiss, though there was no closeness or affection between them. There was, however, a softness in his lips that Aerendis did not expect. A softness no doubt brought upon by the timidness and brevity of the kiss. As both quickly pulled away again and he rose back to his full height, their guests erupted into applause.

“With the gods’ favor, I hereby pronounce you wife and husband - and shall be forever more,” Priestess Meylla concluded.

Aerendis felt a weight lift from her shoulders now that it was over. But she had no newlywed glow about her as the applause from all those in attendance continued. She exchanged a swift glance with her now husband. If there was one thing that they could agree upon, it was that they both wanted this ordeal to end sooner rather than later. But the sun had only just set and night was still so very young.

Tagging: @kurochan3 (let me know if you’d also like to be tagged in future chapters!)

#thanos imagine #thanos fic #thanos x oc #thanos x original character #marvel #marvel fic #marvel imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #mcu #mcu fic #mcu fanfic #mcu imagine #f: tovarion

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monbebe26-monstax · 5 years ago

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Safety Measures Part V

Part I I Part II l Part III l Part IV

Okay, so this is it! The bodyguard chapter will be done after this as of right now. I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did. 💛

The time had passed and it had been a couple of months since you had begun venturing into Wonho’s arms and now the company knew. You laid in your bed with the pillow pressed against your chest as you shut the world out. A throat cleared with a knock on the door and you glanced to see him. His eyes met yours. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?” You ask quietly, you had wanted to talk to him about it, but the dorm was not the place.

He glances down the hall before shutting the door and moving to you. “Come see me tonight?” he asks before kneeling on the edge of your bed and leaning over. His lips press to yours briefly. “I shouldn’t be encouraging you to sneak out after hours but I want to see you tonight.”

“Okay,” you agree. The others would cover for you, you knew they would. And it would give you a chance to talk about the company’s opinion. “What time?”

“As soon as you can,” he pouted. “I miss you.”

“I’ve been with you all day aside from the meetings,” you smile before pecking his pout.

“But not in my arms, safe and sound,” he murmurs and you sigh nodding. He kisses you again before pulling away. “See you soon.”

“See you,” you smile watching him go. He glances back at the door shooting you a wink before going. You sigh falling back into the pillows for a nap.

....

You had convinced the others to cover you for being out past hours before driving yourself to his apartment and knocking. His eyes found yours as he opened the door and you inhaled sharply taking it in. It was candlelit and smelled like roses. “Come on,” he murmurs slipping his hand over yours to tug you in. You step in and he shuts the door before slipping you into his body. “Did you eat?”

You nod, your eyes running over the main room with him hugging you from behind. His chest pressed to your back as his chin rested on your shoulder. “Is this for me?”

“Yes,” he smiles before squeezing you into him. “I want to have an actual date night with you. Not a imaginary date with you when you walk around the city and I follow to keep you safe and imagine what it would be like to hold your hand and kiss you.”

You smile, blushing at how cheesy that concept had been. You turn in his arms looping you arms over his shoulders. “So now what?”

“Movie night,” he smiles before kissing you. His hands pressing into the small of your back to keep you close. “And you can stay the night since you are off tomorrow and so am I.”

“Hmm,” you muse brushing your nose against his. “Movie night and sex.”

He laughed before giving you a cheeky grin as you stare up at him. “What is it?” He questions, seeing the emotions in the deep depths of your eyes.

“I spoke to them,” you say quietly and step back from him. He waits as you adjust yourself to be close but far enough that you could have free reign to move as you spoke. He had noticed you always did that during serious conversations and it was one of your quirks that he loved so much. You look back at him crossing your arms over your waist. “They hate it. They hate that we have fallen in love.”

He lifts his eyebrows shocked, no one had said anything earlier.

“I asked to talk to you first about it. They think it’s bad for my image and yours, and the company’s. They think it could ignite a trend within the industry and they are worried others will mistreat you for it or even me.” You let him process your words before beginning again. “They aren’t saying no, but they are saying be cautious of our next steps. I am worth more to them with you then not at all, but they worry fans and other companies will not like it.”

He nods, rubbing a hand down his face. “Why did we think it would be so easy?”

You shrug, “love makes you think silly things.”

He frowns putting his hands on his hips. “So what do we do?”

You study him, take him in with his black clothing that had become his signature style. He shouldn’t be allowed to look this good all the time. You frown, “we stay in the shadows for the most part. The members will learn tomorrow and so will the staff, but it doesn’t go outside the company.” You look up to meet his gaze. “For now at least.”

He nods, before turning away. “So I am your lover in the shadows for the rest of my life then?”

“No,” you sigh moving towards him. Your hands slipping along his back to hug him around the waist. “Just until we can figure out how to introduce it to the outside world without too much backlash.” You press a kiss to his back, the warmth of his body your comfort. “Are you mad at me?” You question.

“No Baby,” he sighs putting his hands on yours. “I just hoped I would be able to take you on a real date, hold you in the park, kiss you in the rain, and just be with you now. Sneaking around is fun, but I want to tell everyone how great you are and how you are mine.”

You could feel the tears burning as you started to pull away, but he turned catching you in his arms. “I’m sorry,” you whisper as the tears slip free.

“Don’t apologize,” he shakes his head before kissing away the tears and leading you towards the mat on the floor. “Don’t ever apologize for loving me or me loving you.”

You smile before kissing him as you both move down onto the pallet he had made for the movie night. The kiss deepened after your fingers moved to his shirt and his hands slipped under yours. Before long you were tangled together among the candlelight, soft moans, quiet I love yous, and whimpers filling the room as you made love together. He was so gentle with you, so careful, as you melted into him.

...

Part of you knew the shadows would only work for so long as he lay asleep behind you after the candles had burned out and your body was his and his was yours. His strong body wrapped around yours as you listened to the rain falling outside, most of the city was sleeping in these late hours, but not you. Your fingertips ran over the veins in his forearm lightly as you thought about your next steps together. Wonho had come into your life when you needed someone that was strong on the inside as much as the outside, passionate, and cared for you and now you wanted him here permanently and deep down you knew you would give up the idol life if it meant he was happy with you. You turned snuggling into his chest before placing a light kiss above his heart.

“I love you Wonho, always.”

#monsta x #monsta x bodyguard au #wonho #lee hoseok #shin hoseok

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sportyheroesimagines · 6 years ago

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i can't get enough of your soulmate dabi series omfg!! i know you just posted but do you by any chance know when you're posting the next part? love your work:)

Here’s Part V for you! Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long~ (Part I) (Part II) (Part III) (Part IV)

Your feet pound against the pavement as they propel you down a maze of back alleys. You stumble along, dragging your hand against the damp brick walls, every step matching the hammering of your heart. Dabicchi. That’s what she said. Your breath comes out in short rasps as you apply more pressure to a new gash on your side. Dabi … It’s no surprise that he would know someone like her. Looking both ways, you slip down another side street. Lungs on fire, blood gushing through your fingers, it feels like a drum is banging between your ears; even your vision is blurred and distorted. You stumble over your feet, and you press your back against a building, taking raspy breathes.

“Yuu-san,” you gasp, pulling your phone out, “I need to call … Yuu-san.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” her voice sings.

The young blonde throws another knife. It strikes your phone, knocking it out of your hand and shattering the screen. She laughs as she flings more blades at you. Summoning water from your surroundings, you freeze the throwing knives in mid air. Your fingers flex and ice daggers are launched towards her. The girl laughs, meeting each crystal with the sharp end of her blade. She races over. The girl crashes through the remaining ice and slashes her knife at you. Her blade grazes your stomach, shredding your shirt, drawing a thin line of blood across your skin. She tries to stab you, but, grabbing her wrist, you manage to jam your elbow into her face. Her head is knocked back and the taste of iron fills her mouth. She licks her lips, running her tongue over the blood dripping from her nose. She flashes her red stained teeth. Sending her back with a blast of water, you flood the alley with steam and take off again.

Her giggles bounce around the brick walls in a taunting chorus, “You won’t get away, you know! I can smell a maiden in love from a mile away!”

You don’t listen. The only thing you can focus on is gaining distance from her, but it seems like you are stumbling more and more. Don’t stop. You tell yourself. Keep going. You force yourself to move until you can’t hear her shrill giggles. Slowing down, your body careens to the side. This time Takeyama can’t catch you. Your shoulder slams into the wall, and a grimace paints your face. Keep going. Don’t stop. You begin to walk again. The police station is close, you know it. You almost want to laugh at yourself, remembering how much of a fuss you made when Kamui Woods ordered you to memorize a map of the city, but this isn’t the time. You limp along, using the wall as a crutch.

“Hey.”

Your body freezes.

“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon.”

His voice. You’d never forget his voice or the way it sends shivers down your spine. You turn around and Dabi’s there, standing in front of you with his hands shoved in his pockets. He’s staring at you with those eyes again. You dig your fingers into the gash on your forearm. He smiles and takes a step forward; surprisingly, you let him and you don’t run away either. He keeps walking towards you.

“Did you,” you ask between breaths, “Did you send that psycho after me?”

“What? I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but you look pretty damn bad. Looks like you could use some help, huh?”

He reaches out and touches your face. His thumb smudges a bit of blood splattered on your cheek. You look up at him, and his patchwork face splits into a grin. Your face flushes, heart fluttering. Then your body stiffens like a board as thousands of volts of electricity rampage through your body. You tremble and drop to the dank concrete. Still shaking, you look up at Dabi. His face begins to melt in clumps, skin falling away like wax dripping down a candle. His blue orbs are replaced with bright, yellow irises. Your eyes widen. The girl sheds her skin and crouches down by you.

“You let your guard down,” she says, pressing the button on her taser, “But that makes me happy. It means you really do love him.”

“Wha … what’re you―”

Your jaw locks as she tases you again. Her laughs mix with the harsh crackling of the electricity and the flashing blue light flickering against the wall. You convulse, cracking your head against the ground, and everything goes black.

Shigaraki shuffles his feet as he enters the common area from his back room. He looks around at the lowly lit bar, noticing a certain little blonde is no where to be found. He looks at Dabi who lounges on the sofa. He sits with his legs spread and his nose in his phone, unconcerned by the presence of his “leader.” Shigaraki scratches his neck.

“Where’s Toga?” he asks.

“She went out,” Dabi answers, not bothering to look up.

“Out where?”

“How the hell should I know? I’m not her damn babysitter.”

“Well, we need her.”

“Well, maybe you should’ve kept an eye on her,” he snaps back, “It’s not my job to keep tabs on that psychotic brat. She’ll fucking turn up.”

Suddenly a rhythmic knock comes from the door.

“Speak of the damn devil,” Dabi mutters.

Kurogiri emerges from behind the bar and opens the door after checking the peephole. Toga skips through the entrance, humming happily. A pair of (s/c) arms are loosely draped over her shoulders and a head hangs laxly as she carries a limp body piggyback. Shigaraki and Dabi look her up and down, then glance at each other. Toga grins. Bending forward, she throws you over her back and slams you against the hardwood floor. You lay limply on the ground like a rag doll, unmoving. Blood seeps out of your gashes; it soaks your clothes, making them cling to your skin. Your hair is fanned out around your head. Even unconscious, you still manage to look like an angel.

His angel.

His angel, who has been touched by hands that aren’t his, defiled and bloodied by this demonic little pest.

“Surprise!” Toga cheers.

Dabi’s fist clenches. Rage boils his veins and bursts from his skin in blue flames. His lip curls into a snarl, launching a fire ball directly at Toga. She stares at the flames with awe, but Kurogiri warps the attack away. Dabi charges at the manic blonde, anger etched into his face; she readies her knife with a grin. Again, Kurogiri intervenes.

Dabi glowers at Toga, pulling his hand out of the warp gate, “What the hell did you do?”

“What? Is this the wrong person?” she asks.

Toga crouches down and lifts your head by your hair. She sniffs your skin, running her tongue over your cheek. Dabi grinds his teeth. She catches his stiff shoulders in the corner of her eye, tittering gleefully.

“No, this is the right one. I’m sure of it.”

“You damn psycho.”

He sends another blast of fire at her. Toga lets go of you, avoiding the blue flames. Instead, a chair receives the hot end of the ravenette man’s wrath. Kurogiri rushes to extinguish the burning kindle, but Dabi could care less. She cocks her head to the side.

“Don’t you like your surprise, Dabicchi? I brought your love here, and I even made them all pretty for you.”

“You’re insane,” he growls under his breath, “I’ll kill you for this. You’re dead, brat. You’re dead.”

He steps towards Toga, but a low groan from you stops him in his tracks. He looks down at you. Your fingers twitch, the signs of consciousness coming back to you. Dabi shoots Toga a sharp glare. More than anything, he wants to burn that brat to a black crisp for laying a hand on you, but another whimper from you halts him. His soulmate in pain takes precedence. He bends down, carefully taking you into his arms bridal style. Your head lolls back, eyelids fluttering, but you remain unconscious. Dabi pulls you into his chest, snarling at Toga under his breath. She holds her face in her hand, clearly amused by his show of possessiveness.

“What the hell is going on?” Shigaraki asks, “Who is that?”

“Mind your own fucking business.”

Toga giggles as Dabi storms over to the door, swinging it open. Shigaraki narrows his eyes. He steps forward.

“Now, where are you going?”

“Mind. Your. Own. Fucking. Business. And if anyone follows me, I swear to god,” he turns to glare everyone, flames flickering in a warning on his back, “I’ll kill you on sight.”

Dabi walks out into the night, cradling you in his arms. He holds you close and looks at your bloodied face. Your skin looks more pale than he remembers; your lips are dry and cracked too. Still, Dabi presses a kiss to your forehead.

“She’ll pay for this,” he mumbles against your cold skin.

You move your head, breath hitching with pain. Dabi picks up his pace as he walks you to the nearest hospital, glaring at anyone who dares to give him a passing glance. He hides in the bushes and checks his surroundings. No ambulances, nurses, or smokers are hanging around the entrance. He trots up to the emergency ward, then gently lays you on the concrete. He brushes your hair back, caressing your face and smoothing his thumb over your cheek. Your eyelids flutter as consciousness begins to find you. Dabi’s lips quirk into a half smile.

“There you go. Glad to have you back, Doll face.”

You groan once more, eyes blinking blearily. Dabi trots off before your vision fully adjusts. Still, you see a long, black jacket fluttering and blending in with the darkness of the night. You reach your shaking hand out. There’s no doubt with that smoky scent still lingering in your hair. Stretching your arm, you try to grasp at the blackness before your hand falls limp.

#Dabi #dabi bnha #dabi x reader #reader insert #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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andtheserpentsays · 7 years ago

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Where You Are - ChevLotte

Collection of sequenced drabbles, bridging the gap between S2 and S3 and exploring how their friendship developed. I’ve written SO many of these, but they’re kind of different to what I’d do normally, so.. ? Let me know if there’s any interest in the rest of them.

Notes: There’s mentions of drinking whilst pregnant, because we’re talking about a time when champagne treated morning sickness... Also, historical Liselotte was brutally unkind about Maintenon in her letters, so bear that in mind.

Where You Are

‘You just need to get to know him.’

Phillipe had repeated the phrase to her endlessly, and previously Liselotte had wondered how on earth you were meant to get to know somebody who prickled up faster than a surprised hedgehog. But it was clear that Phillipe loved this man a great deal, and she couldn’t think of a more glowing character reference than that. So she resolved to try.

As they had watched Phillipe walk out of their lives, Liselotte felt his hand return her squeeze and she knew then that there was hope.

ii.

The first week after Phillipe’s departure had perhaps been the hardest, and they had both struggled with his absence. The Chevalier hovered at the edge of her life, like he was helplessly drawn to the places that belonged to Phillipe even though he wasn’t in them.

Before the end of the second day Liselotte had already written him three letters. She found herself asking the Chevalier if he wanted to add anything to her latest, but he didn’t move from the sofa he’d been occupying for most of the afternoon. ‘I’ll write my own, thank you.’

‘Well, come on then.’ She swirled her signature before pulling out a fresh sheet of paper. She rose from her desk, waving him towards it as she blew on the damp ink of her letter. ‘They can go with the same rider.’

To her delight, he did as he was told. Liselotte watched him write from her bed, and couldn’t help but wonder what he had to say.

iii.

The truth was, they didn’t really have anybody else. The two of them may as well have been alone at Versailles: so they continued to gravitate towards each other, either in Phillipe’s rooms or in her own.

She had gone to Phillipe’s apartments one evening after dinner, on the hunt for a particular book. Liselotte found the Chevalier flopped back on his bed staring at the canopy, and her eyes were drawn to the dark, smooth lines of a waistcoat she recognised as Phillipe’s.

He huffed out a laugh when she asked what he was doing. ‘I found myself choosing what he should wear for dinner. I think I am going mad.’

His tone was flippant but it made Liselotte’s heart ache, and she wondered how many times he found himself here.

‘Well if you feel your talents are wasted, there’s always my wardrobe. Lord knows I need the help.’

With that appeal to his vanity her toe was in the door, and she couldn’t help but feel pleased with herself when he’d agreed. She soon found there was no true malice in his bluster and that he actually seemed to take great pride in making her look.. presentable. A new lady made her way into her entourage, poached from somebody else no doubt, and she heard a glowing report on her talent for styling hair.

It became the first of many routines they would share: the Chevalier was there without fail, dressing her for the mornings, for the salon in the afternoon and the evening tables.

iv.

As the infant grew, Liselotte had quite loudly refused to cave in to the popular fashion for disguising her changing shape. She’d argued with her ladies, pointing out that people had been so interested in Phillipe performing that she wasn’t about to disguise the results of his efforts. Montespan could keep her battantes, Liselotte had nothing to hide.

One afternoon she returned from the garden to find an unfamiliar girl in her rooms, hunched over one of her dresses in the light of the window. Liselotte didn’t get a chance to question her, as the Chevalier spoke up from a sofa.

‘She’s adding panels, for the baby. They can be taken out again afterwards if you want.’

‘You are.. a marvel.’

He chose her evening’s ensemble from one of her newly amended pieces, only today he didn’t leave once his decisions had been made. Instead the Chevalier lingered in her day room, and once dressed she found him there, nosing through various things on her table without an ounce of shame. He gave her a brief once-over before tucking her hand into his arm.

‘Come on then, or we shall be late.’

‘We? We’re going.. together?’

‘You can go on your own if you like.’ Her fingers were already slipping from the crook of his elbow, and Liselotte tugged him back to her which was apparently a satisfactory response.

If he noticed the raised eyebrows they met on their way he didn’t comment, and it was hard to tell what they were more surprised by: their pairing, or the perfect bump that was really very obvious. For once Liselotte enjoyed her scandal, and let him seat her at a table before joining her. He proved to be a magnificent accomplice when it came to fleecing their companions. She showed him her aunt’s preferred method for cheating and he taught her a quinze drinking game of Phillipe’s invention.

They awoke the next morning in Phillipe’s bed fully dressed, right down to their shoes and her hairpins. Even in their stupor they’d gravitated towards him.

Liselotte had needed his full assistance to heave herself out of the bed, and was unashamed as he helped unlace her bodice to give her pregnancy bump more room to breathe. The expression on the faces of her ladies as the Chevalier returned her to her own rooms had almost been worth the headache.

Liselotte’s unborn infant was beginning to try and make his presence known, especially when she was either trying to sleep or make conversation. Or breathe, it seemed. She tried not to consider that this could signal her impending confinement, and instead tried to guess whether she was being elbowed or kicked.

‘You must come and feel it.’ Maybe that was a headbutt?

‘Oh no, my dear. I shall just believe you.’

‘No, come on. Phillipe isn’t here, you’ll have to do this for him.’ She held her hand out and waited. She didn’t say anything when he huffed a sigh but she knew that the tutting sound as he sat beside her was for dramatic effect. Liselotte arranged his palm carefully, pressing it beneath her own as they waited. The Chevalier’s patience was as short as she expected.

‘I can’t feel-’ He had barely begun to speak when her baby lurched, and a limb (definitely an elbow) made itself known. Liselotte smiled and squeezed the hand under her own.

‘See, he knows you. Already can’t let down his Uncle Phillipe.’

The punch line of ‘like his father’ hung between them, but neither voiced it. Phillipe had once felt like he was the literal stitching holding them both together, but Liselotte was not ashamed to admit that she had now claimed a piece of the Chevalier all to herself. And she was rather fond of it.

vi.

The sun had barely set on the first day of Liselotte’s confinement, and she was already convinced she was going to perish from the boredom of it all. She had secretly hoped to have been allowed a modicum of freedom, especially considering her husband wasn’t here to boss her about. Sadly Liselotte had forgotten quite how meddlesome her brother-in-law could be.

‘Sister, I insist.’ Louis had grasped her hands tightly, and deployed his most earnest of gazes. ‘My brother would never forgive me, it is my duty to ensure you and your baby are safe.’

The Chevalier did not disguise his noise of disgust at the words. He’d had his fill of the Bourbon brothers and their ‘duty’ lately, and it caused only the briefest of flickers in Louis’ expression.

‘I understand, truly.’ She gently, but firmly, extricated her hand from his grasp and patted his sleeve. ‘But surely, there’d be no harm in pottering around the gardens once or twice?’

Judging by the look on his face (the king’s face, she reminded herself), there apparently was.

And so she had just passed a thrilling day of staring at her own feet over the bump of her nightgown, and half wondering if anybody would come and see her. Liselotte was especially disappointed that the Chevalier hadn’t shown his face yet. It would be frowned upon, after all, so an illegal visit should have been right up his street.

Her hopes were dashed when the door creaked open only to have Maintenon appear. Liselotte wondered if going mad from loneliness might not be so bad, especially when she suspected she was probably snooping on her behaviour for the king.

‘He’s under the bed.’

‘I’m sure I don’t understand.’

‘The Chevalier, he’s under the bed.’

Her eyebrows had promptly shot to the top of her rather smug forehead. Liselotte made a great point of saying nothing further for a long time, instead choosing a single grape with great care before changing the subject. Watching Maintenon resist the urge to clamber to the floor and look under the bed, whilst maintaining polite conversation, was the most fun she’d had in a while.

vii. The next afternoon, after another morning of toe inspection and intense hair brushing, one of her ladies scurried in with a tiny, well-folded note. She’d thrust it into Liselotte’s hand as if it was on fire, curtsied, and then escaped.

As she unfolded it Liselotte instantly recognised the Chevalier’s immaculate penmanship, and made a mental note to ask him what notes he’d made the poor girl carry before.

‘My dear, I’m so terribly bored. Have you produced a son yet? Nobody at the tables has the slightest idea how to cheat properly, I think I’m going to go mad.’

‘Oh, I’m fine, thank you for asking.’

‘The uncle is a snooper. I’m going to give the old drab another day before she gets bored, then I shall come liberate you.’

Liselotte crushed the letter in her hands and smiled.

viii.

The Chevalier was correct in his suspicions. Madame de Maintenon endured only one further day of Liselotte’s teasing before she failed to reappear, and the Chevalier swept into her dim chamber in the hour before dinner. At least she thought that’s what the hour was, it was getting difficult to tell.

‘Goodness, it’s like a crypt in here.’

‘I hadn’t noticed.’

He took a moment to toe off his shoes before coming to sit on the bed beside her. ‘I brought you a gift. Something you should most definitely not be reading, rather excitable.’ He tossed it into her waiting hands. ‘Particularly after chapter five.’

There was also a deck of playing cards that he had smuggled. One of his own marked decks she was certain, but Liselotte was not in a position to be choosy. She couldn’t help but smile, turning her face to him like he’d hung the moon.

‘Thank you.’

#chevlotte #versailles tv #chevalier de lorraine #liselotte #phillipe d'orleans #fiction #fanfic #my fiction

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megabadbunny · 7 years ago

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Minuet, Part V

She wonders if it’s midnight, yet, if her carriage will poof back into a pumpkin and her gown return to rags.

(Certainly no prince will come calling after her, not after the way she behaved tonight.)

***

(ten/rose angsty post-gitf au/fixit; this part (and all parts on ff.net) is sfw (minor exception for brief language); be warned that the next chapter has teh smuts <3)

(full-size image)

Minuet, Part V

Beneath a canopy of ever-brightening lightning dancing across the sky, dazzling white slicing through a canvas of sapphire-blues and bruise-purples and ominous reds, the afternoon slowly slides into the evening. Certainly, Rose is sure things happen during this time; she’s equally sure she has no idea what they are, and she doesn’t care.

(Uruud shows her to her room. It’s fine. It’s a room. It’s got a bed. Before Rose has a chance to poke around anymore than that, Mickey stops by with an invitation—We’re off to do some investigating, fancy a ride-along?—and that look on his face, all nervousness and uncertainty mixed with apprehensive hope, just cements in Rose’s mind how very bad everything is, if the Doctor can’t even be arsed to come in here himself like he normally would. Rose begs off in favor of a nap, and ignores the worry that plays across Mickey’s face after. But it wasn’t entirely a lie, because blessedly, the bed has got a canopy to block out the light-show blaring through the glass ceiling above, and the temptation to smother her woes in an ocean of silky bedclothes and feather-stuffed pillows is indeed quite strong. But Rose just sits on the bed instead, arms crossed and toes tapping and eyes staring at nothing in particular while her brain replays the last twelve hours like some kind of horrid sitcom on syndication, playing over and over and over and over.)

Right on schedule, the first ritual begins—or rather, the first “ritual”, as Rose thinks of it, considering that even if it’s presented like a Therran Communion, it seems a lot more like a threadbare excuse for the guests at the Temple to pull on fancy clothes and get blind-stinking drunk. Normally, the whole thing might delight Rose, the chance to doll up and immerse herself completely in the local culture, taste a range of fine alien libations and make new friends and maybe even flirt a little, but now it just seems sort of pointless and silly, a bunch of children playing at being adults with their fancy-dress and their fermented Britvic.

(Uruud brings a gown for Rose to wear to dinner. Rationally, she recognizes that it’s quite an elegant thing, all slim-fitted bodice and voluminous skirts and Prussian blue velvety-softness; less rationally, after Mickey pops back by her room with news of his and the Doctor’s escapades—Can’t find that High Chauncery bloke anywhere, none of the Votaries know where he’s got off to, what do you think of that?—Rose wonders how the fabric would hold up if she tore it to straps and fashioned herself an escape rope, climbing out the window and deserting this stupid fancy place and its even stupider guests like a princess absconding from her tower. Planet-consuming lightning storms can’t be all that dangerous, right?)

Dinner takes place, at some point, somewhere. A grand hall, probably, but Rose is three swallows deep into her third (or fourth?) glass of so-called “ritual wine” and things are starting to get just the littlest bit blurry around the edges. Mostly she notices that the hall is packed full of people, and it’s loud, and there’s food, and a whole host of traditions accompanying it all. Each food item is laden with symbolic meaning, and eaten only after a session of chant-and-repeat, the entire dining hall buzzing with the rhythmic hum of people reciting scripture, lifting their faces toward the lightning scrawling overhead. Rose moves her lips along with everyone else, if only not to disrespect Uruud and the other Votaries, and after, she dutifully places the food into her mouth and chews and swallows, because it’s there, and she should, regardless of the protests of the seized-up beartrap that seems to have replaced her stomach. Probably some of the food she eats is tasty, and some of it isn’t. She doesn’t notice one way or the other.

(Uruud is kind enough to help Rose with her hair and makeup, styling both after the latest high Therran fashions, all gently sculptural curls and dew-glittering glaze painted on her skin. The whole process is so mirror-reminiscent of her time in France that Rose can’t decide whether to laugh or cry; in an effort to convince herself that she has, in fact, been rescued by the Doctor, and is not still somehow trapped millennia in the past surrounded by strangers and unknown customs and unspoken rules, she asks Uruud any and every question she can think of, and absorbs herself in their replies. She inquires about their choice to become a Votary (they were Called) and if they’ve got any family (two parents, three siblings) and the meaning of the ornamental dots on each Therran’s face (one dot for every Allstorm they’ve survived, according to tradition hearkening back to the ancient times, and with a smile, Uruud places a gem beneath Rose’s lower lip, gifting her with a temporary honorary badge of her own). Rose encourages them to speak until the words flow as freely as the wine outside, and privately takes comfort in the paint they brush over her skin. When they’re done, Rose’s collarbone sparkles as if covered with a necklace, her glitters as if topped with a tiara, and her back could almost sport a pair of wings glinting in the flashing light. It feels like a shield, a second skin, a mask, one that doesn’t slip even when Rose reunites with Mickey and the Doctor in the dining hall and the latter barely manages to spare her a glance.)

Downing the rest of her fourth (possibly fifth) glass of wine, Rose tries not to stare at Mickey and the Doctor, but it’s sort of difficult considering that they’re seated directly across from her. They both look quite sharp in their suits, tailored to perfection by talented Votaries, Rose assumes. (Distinctly tuxlike, their suits are; Rose wonders if they requested them specifically or if tuxes are just some sort of universal standard, somehow.) Between that and the Doctor’s customary chattiness, it isn’t long before most of the occupants of their table start leaning in to hear more from this fascinating couple, this charming Doctor fellow and his pretty-boy husband Mickey.

(Unfortunately, Rose suspects there’s nothing Uruud can do to help her with that particular mess.)

“And how did you two get together?” asks a friendly cat-person, ears swiveled forward in interest.

“He stole my girlfriend,” Mickey deadpans.

Clapping him on the back, the Doctor laughs. “Aww, what a sense of humor my beloved has!” he chuckles. “We did meet through Rose, actually—yes, that’s her right there, across the table, hullo Rose—but there was no romance involved. At least, not at first,” he adds with a wink sent Mickey’s way, and Rose struggles not to roll her eyes, or throw up, or both. “That’s all he meant. Isn’t that right, Honey Bear?”

“Sure is, Fudge Nugget.”

“See, Rose and I met through her workplace. You know how it goes, she’s closing up shop, you’re scheduled to do demolition on said shop, you run into each other on the lift in a classic meeting-your-future-husband’s-best-mate-meetcute. Instant friendship! Wouldn’t you say, Pootsy-Pie?”

“Whatever you say, Pudgy McGee.”

“Let’s just say Rose found me very charming, once upon a time,” the Doctor continues, “and Mickey here, feeling jealous that someone was encroaching on the territory of his best mate—that’s Rose, hullo again, Rose—well, he decided that he should find out what all this cattywhumpus was about, meet this Doctor bloke that Rose couldn’t stop raving over. And the rest, as they say, is history. Wouldn’t you agree, my little Muffin Top?”

“You got it, Sugar Tits.”

Rose watches as the Doctor chokes on his wine and Mickey pats him on the back perhaps just a little more enthusiastically than the situation warrants. The Doctor shoots him a teeth-gritted grin afterward and Mickey just smiles the universe’s most beatific serene smile. And that, for whatever reason, inspires Rose with a funny little thought.

“My dear Doctor,” she says sweetly, indulging in a delicate sip of her wine, “that’s all very good and well, but you must realize that isn’t actually what our friend here was asking. She wants to know about how the two of you became a couple.”

Rose locks eyes with him over the table, affecting a friendly smile. “She wants to know how the two of you fell in love.”

It’s doubtful that anyone else at the table registers the shadow that flickers over the Doctor’s face; it’s gone as soon as it appears, and the Doctor answers with barely a hitch.

“Well, I think I’ve hogged the spotlight long enough,” he says to Mickey. “Why don’t you tell them, my love?”

Mickey’s glee can barely restrain itself, oozing out the seams as he grins like a Cheshire cat. “Oh, no, my pet,” he says, planting his elbows on the table and his chin in both hands, watching the Doctor with adoring eyes, “I insist that you tell them. You do it so wonderfully, after all.”

“Thank you, sweetie,” replies the Doctor, his voice only a little strained as everyone aww’s around them, and Rose bites her lip to keep from laughing.

“So, that part of the story is—here we come to a part that’s—well, it’s a little difficult to know where to start, is all,” the Doctor says, tugging nervously on one ear. “It just feels like we’ve been in love for so long, you see, that it’s all sort of rolled together into one giant…love mass. Sort of like, y’know. The Thing or something.”

“Oh, stop that,” Rose laughs. “He’s just being shy,” she tells the rest of the table. “He doesn’t want any of you to know about all the late-night chats the two of us had together, with him just gushing on and on about how wonderful Mickey was, how handsome he is, how lucky the Doctor is to have him, all that.”

“Ah, that might be just the slightest smidge of an exaggeration—”

“No, no, go on,” Mickey says, his grin widening until his face might split from it. “Tell everyone how wonderful I am!”

“He’d wax poetical for hours about the beauty of Mickey’s eyes,” Rose says when the Doctor doesn’t reply.

“Can’t blame him, they’re quite nice,” Mickey adds.

“He’d talk about how safe and warm he felt in Mickey’s arms.”

“Front-row tickets to the gunshow, right here.”

“But by far, I think his very favorite thing about Mickey has always been his intellect,” Rose continues, choking down her laughter as the Doctor’s mouth purses thinner and thinner. “In fact, I used to stay up late reassuring him that, no, Mickey wasn’t too smart for him—”

“Aww, babe,” says Mickey, looping an arm around the Doctor’s shoulders.

“—but he just insisted that no matter how hard he tried, he’d never be Mickey’s intellectual equal,” Rose says, disguising her snickers as a cough. “In fact, after their first kiss, the Doctor called me straightaway to tell me—”

“His hands,” the Doctor blurts out, and everyone at the table turns back to him.

“Sorry?” asks the cat-person from earlier.

The Doctor doesn’t spare a glance for her; his eyes are locked squarely on Rose.

“Just—they’re nice hands,” the Doctor says, with a shrug. “Good for holding. That’s what it’s really all about, isn’t it? A hand to hold. Wouldn’t you say, Rose?”

She doesn’t reply; she’s too busy watching his fingers as they entwine with Mickey’s hand on his shoulder, and once again, the table lights up with the sounds of an audience enraptured, the cat-person pressing her paw to her chest at the cuteness of it all. The conversation starts again, picking up where it left off, but it’s all just white noise to Rose’s ears now as she watches Mickey and the Doctor resituate themselves to clasp their hands together atop the table, practically beneath Rose’s nose. The Doctor even finishes his dinner one-handed to accommodate the whole thing, eating and drinking with his left hand like he does it all the time, and it might all be terribly funny if his thumb wasn’t absentmindedly stroking over Mickey’s knuckle, the way it does with Rose.

The way it used to do.

Something about the mindless meaninglessness of the gesture sets klaxons blaring in Rose’s head, screaming at her for her stupidity, for ever thinking anything the Doctor did anything meaningful, for ever thinking she was anything more than a joke to him, just a joke, a joke, a worthless stupid joke and nothing he says ever means anything and you’re an idiot for ever thinking it did and the words ricochet around her skull over and over until she drowns it out with another glass of wine.

“Good stuff, isn’t it?” the Doctor asks cheerfully, and a second later, Rose realizes he’s talking to her. “Therran wine is quite lovely—when you’re not choking on it, anyway.”

The other occupants at the table laugh politely, nodding along.

“Just a tad potent, though,” the Doctor adds. “A few glasses is really all anyone needs. Everything in moderation, hm?”

He looks at Rose meaningfully, eyes darting to the glass in her hand. She wonders if he’s been keeping track of her intake this whole time, if he’s trying to say, in that stupid precious roundabout way of his, that she’s had enough, maybe more than. Probably the Doctor is right, but then again, probably if he thinks she should stop, then probably he should just come out and say it. She’s bloody well sick of all this dancing around.

With a serene smile of her own, Rose pours herself another glass. “Cheers to moderation,” she says, tilting the glass in a toast before she downs its contents in one gulp.

“Cheers!” shouts Mickey and everyone else along the table, following suit with their glasses clinking and wine-draining after, but the Doctor doesn’t drink, doesn’t cheer, doesn’t tear his eyes away from Rose. She forces herself to hold his gaze, wills her face to turn to stone so nothing can show through. If he can do it whenever he wants, then so can she.

“Well, aren’t we having a lovely time?” purrs a soft voice behind Rose, and she turns to see the scarlet-dressed woman from earlier, now swathed in a crimson gown so gorgeous it makes Rose’s eyes water. “Whatever is happening over here, it’s far more fascinating than the events transpiring at my table.”

“Ah, then you should join us!” declares the Doctor. “Not at the table, though. We were just leaving.”

The woman piques an immaculate eyebrow in interest. “Oh?” she says. “Leaving for where?”

“Yeah,” Mickey says, confused, and Rose’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Leaving for where?”

“Not entirely sure yet, but I thought we might nose about a bit,” explains the Doctor, standing up from the table. “Get the lay of the land, go for the inside scoop, poke our beaks in where they aren’t wanted, so to speak. See what we can learn about this Allstorm business and why it’s suddenly taking place over the course of a month instead of a handful of days. The Votaries don’t seem to know anything, the computers are functionally worthless, and for the life of me I can’t seem to find any trace of the High Chauncery anywhere.”

Nodding, the woman frowns. “He has not been seen for many years now, it’s true,” she says slowly.

“Exactly. For all intents and purposes, he’s vanished, along with anyone else who might have a clue about what’s going on. It’s all just a little bit funny, don’t you think?”

In her peripheral vision, Rose sees Mickey trying to catch her eye—he’s alarmed at the Doctor’s sudden candor with this stranger, she knows. But Rose doesn’t share his gaze, or his worries. She knows exactly what the Doctor is doing, or what it feels like he’s doing, anyway, and she’s too busy sensing every ounce of the acid boiling up in her throat to weigh Mickey’s concerns.

“Oh, my,” the woman is saying now. “A conspiracy theory. How intriguing!”

“It is, at that. Would you care to join us?”

As if she can sense the daggers that Rose is glaring at the Doctor—or if she can see them, which, she probably can, Rose is fairly certain she’s being none-too-subtle at the moment—the woman glances between the two of them, hesitating. “I wouldn’t want to intrude…”

“Excellent,” Rose interjects, only wobbling a little bit as she stands up from the table. “We’ll just see you around, then—”

“Oh, nonsense, it’s no intrusion, none at all,” interrupts the Doctor, circling round the table so he can extend an elbow to the woman. “Shall we?”

Once again, the woman looks back at Rose (what, is she asking permission? Is she gloating?) before accepting the Doctor’s offer, threading her arm through his with a gracious “I think we shall.”

Without waiting for Rose (or even his supposed husband, for that matter), the Doctor takes off, arm-in-arm with the strange woman. Rose watches them as they stride away, her hands balling into fists. Nonplussed, Mickey turns around just long enough to offer Rose a confused shrug before he jogs after the Doctor and his newfound friend, or the latest thing that captured his five-second attention span, or whatever this woman is.

Sighing darkly, Rose swipes a bottle of wine off a passing tray and starts drinking.

Naami, as the woman introduces herself, soon proves herself to be quite charming (not two minutes after they’ve left the dining hall, and already Mickey and the Doctor are more relaxed than they’ve been all day) as well as delicately humorous (as evidenced by Mickey and the Doctor’s smiles and laughter, and not in that polite why you do with strangers at a party) not to mention annoyingly diplomatic (as proven by her continual attempts to rope Rose into the conversation, no matter how noncommittal Rose’s responding hums and grunts become). She’s also devastatingly insightful, if the Doctor’s eager conversation with her regarding Therran politics and society are anything to go by. In short, Naami turns out to be the sort of person that’s difficult to hate—which, of course, only makes you want to hate them all the more.

“So, Rose,” says Naami conversationally—as if the four of them aren’t creeping quietly through the Temple archives, as if the Doctor didn’t break them in with the sonic so he could hack into the information network, as if they aren’t all constantly swiveling at every tiny noise and every flash of light up above because what if it’s a guard this time?—“Far be it from me to eavesdrop, but even from my table, I heard quite a bit about your companions this evening, and very little of you. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

She shoots Rose a winning smile, perfect teeth framed by ideal sweetheart-shaped lips, and it lights up something somewhere in the dimming recesses of Rose’s alcohol-warmed brain. It occurs to her that this woman, this upper-class, gold-gilded, well-mannered prat, can probably smell an Estate girl from a hundred miles away, just like half the shrews at the French court before Reinette set them all to rights, or a shark scenting blood on the water. Any other day, Rose’s hackles might rise at the thought, but now, she just chuckles under her breath, swaying ever-so-slightly on her feet. What has she got to be ashamed of, what has she got to hide? It isn’t like she can make this woman’s opinion of her any worse, nor, at this point, would she even care if she did.

“Pretty general question. Why don’t you be more specific?” Rose asks, swigging from her bottle.

“All right. Where did you grow up?”

“A nice, big ol’ trash-heap in the middle of nowhere,” Rose replies brightly.

Mickey clucks his tongue disapprovingly. “Oh, come on, Rose. The Estate’s not that bad.”

“Sure it’s not, if you don’t mind a surplus of graffiti and crime and overflowing trash bins,” Rose shoots back. “Next question?”

The briefest flash of uncertainty flickers across Naami’s features before she tries again, her smile sliding back into place like it never left. “What inspired you to go traveling with Mickey and the Doctor?”

“Eh, you know how it is. Girl like me, you’ve got three options: the bloke who hits you, the bloke who cheats on you, or the bloke who promises you adventure and then up and changes his personality on you, dragging you around like so much baggage from star to star,” Rose counts off, steadfastly ignoring whether or not the Doctor reacts to any of the words streaming out of her mouth. “So I figure, hey, at least with the last option, I’m out of the house. Next?”

“Erm, very well, then,” says Naami, brow knitted in concern before she opts for what surely must seem like safe territory. “What about your friends, your significant other, your family? Tell me about them.”

“Sure thing,” Rose replies, downing another gulp of wine. “Which one would you like to hear about first—my single, lonely, unemployed mum, or my dead dad?”

“Jesus, Rose,” Mickey breathes, as Naami’s eyes widen with shock. Rose absolutely expects her to form that perfect mouth into the shape of a pout, her big beautiful eyes brimming with false tears as sublime and round as the most luxurious of pearls while she gently pats Rose’s hand, trying to hide her cringe as her delicate princess-skin comes into contact with such a low commoner, all while she murmurs some retch-worthy patronizing claptrap about Oh, you poor thing, you poor wretched little thing, no wonder these generous two men took such pity on you, no wonder you’re all alone.

Rose nearly jumps out of her skin when Naami gently grasps her shoulder instead. “My gods, I’m so sorry,” Naami says quietly, and—and is Rose imagining things, or does she look like she actually means it? “Was it—was it very recent?”

Taken aback, Rose stammers, searching for words, but Naami just shakes herself. “Oh, of course, I’m so sorry, my dear; of course you don’t want to talk about such things with a stranger,” she says. “I only thought to ask because you seemed unusually out-of-sorts for someone attending the Allstorm celebration, and stupid me, I’m nosy even on the best of days and that just makes it even more of a problem with the attraction to emotionally unavailable people—but you didn’t ask about all that, I’m sorry, I’m babbling!”

She takes Rose’s free hand in both of hers, and she looks so sincere, so bleeding earnest, that Rose can’t help but believe her. “Please forgive my impudence,” Naami says, “and please accept my condolences for you and your mother. What a dreadful thing to happen. I’m really so sorry, darling.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Naami,” the Doctor pipes up, typing away at a computer terminal and frowning when he doesn’t like what he sees. “It happened a long time ago.”

“Yeah,” Rose replies, her voice shaking. “Why be upset about that when there are so many more current things to be angry about?”

The clickety-clack of the Doctor’s fingers over the keyboard grows a little louder, his fingers tapping the keys just a little harder. “Or perhaps you could retire for the night, stop drinking for five entire minutes.”

“Oi, now, am I gonna have to separate you two?” Mickey jokes feebly, but Rose ignores him.

“Why, what’s wrong, Doctor?” she asks. “Am I embarrassing you?”

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” is the quiet reply.

Shame floods through Rose, leaving her lightheaded. Distantly, she hears Mickey snapping at the Doctor, hears the anger in his voice as he leaps to her defense, but she can’t hear his actual words over the sound of her blood rushing in her ears; she can only feel the hot anger of them, and the cool nothingness of the Doctor’s nonexistent reply. Rose’s cheeks burn and her stomach churns and she feels like she might be sick.

“Actually, I could do with a bit of a rest myself,” Naami tells Rose, her well-manicured hands fidgeting nervously. “Would you like company on your walk back, Rose?”

“No, ta,” says Rose tiredly, avoiding looking Naami in the eye; it’s exhausting to be so wrong about so many things all in one day, and she’s not quite ready to admit to herself that Naami may actually be a decent person, that maybe she lashed out at her without reason. Just another thing to make her want to curl up into herself like a pillbug until she dries out on the front porch, nothing but a hollow little husk left behind. “Don’t worry. He’s all yours.”

She leaves before anyone can stop her, skirts gathered in one hand, wine bottle in the other. Before too long, she finds her room again and slips out of her shoes, leaving them behind her as she walks, like the world’s most pathetic drunken Cinderella. She wonders if it’s midnight, yet, if her carriage will poof back into a pumpkin and her gown return to rags.

(Certainly no prince will come calling after her, not after the way she behaved tonight.)

Climbing into bed with her illicit treasure, Rose drinks until her eyes won’t stay open any longer.

***

Next Part

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whoacanada · 7 years ago

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NHL!Bitty, Part VI - ‘The Code’

Eric’s teammates are protective of their highly-publicized rookie. Maybe a little too protective. So, when a closeted!Jack gets flirty and starts flustering Eric on the ice, his Schooner teammates conclude that Zimmermann must be harassing Eric and decide to act accordingly. Leaping to Eric’s defense: starting goalie Markus Bay and defenseman Carter Morin.

(TW: hockey violence, little bit of blood, big ol’ misunderstandings)

“You seeing this?”

Morin slaps Markus on the shoulder and jerks a thumb toward Zimmermann, who is skating determined circles around Bittle. He stops stretching and watches the Falconers forward come close, say something to Eric, and skate away quickly. This happens twice, each time, Bittle flushes and looks upset, but seems to brush it off and go back to his warm-up drills.

“Do you know what he’s saying?” Markus asks, hoping for some kind of reasonable explaination.

“No, but, just watch, man.”

Zimmermann comes in close again, this time with Mashkov in tow, and Eric doesn’t flinch, but he does something, skating away quickly as the two Falconers laugh. Again, Bittle looks uncomfortable.

“Didn’t they play together?” Markus asks. “Why’s Zimmermann being a dick now?”

Carter fusses with his helmet and waits for several of the guys to clear the ice.

“I know Eric doesn’t like people getting in his shit, but he’s been torn up about playing the Falconers. You can’t tell anybody, but I totally heard him crying one night and Zimmermann’s name came up. I guess Bittle had a crush on him in college or something,” Carter explains, worrying his mouthguard. “Shit, maybe Zimmermann found out and that’s why he’s being a dick. You think we should tell Cricket?”

“And tell him what? The Falconers’ Captain is harassing Bittle? No, we can handle this. Just, hold off until we know for sure.”

“Look, Eric may be above going after his old liney, but I’m not.” Carter says, tapping his stick against Markus’ skate blade. “We got this.”

“We got this,” Markus echoes, already watching Zimmermann like a hawk.

Bay follows Zimmermann all night, and not just because he’s the one pulling breakaway after breakaway. As the minutes pass, Markus’ anger only grows.

This is the asshole that Bittle still cries over, the fucker that wields Eric's college crush like blunt instrument.

At the end of the second the Falconers are up by two, the Schooners’ only goal so far coming from Cricket off Eric’s assist, but it hasn’t been enough. In fairness maybe Markus has been slightly distracted, paying more attention to Zimmermann’s playing style than the rest of his team.

At the buzzer, Carter skates up, breathless, “Zimms is still all over Bittle, should I lay him out?”

“Let me handle it, you have too many penalty minutes already. Tell Bittle we’ve got his back.”

“Copy.”

His moment comes late in the third period. The Falcs are still up by two, despite his best efforts, so he makes a judgment call. Not that Bittle needs the help, but this is more about making a statement — letting everyone know exactly the kind of person Jack Zimmermann is, and telling everyone in the league that the Schooners won’t tolerate disrespect.

On the next play, the Falcs get close, too close, and Zimmermann is so focused on the puck that he’s caught completely off guard when Markus drops a knee (and a glove) to drive his fist right up under Zimmermann’s face mask. Markus feels something shift beneath his knuckles and knows he's struck pay-dirt when Zimmermann wheels back, nose gushing red.

He’s still reeling in shock when Markus hauls him back in, before their teammates can figure out what the hell is happening, and snarls, “Stay the fuck away from Bittle or your nose won't be the only thing I break, pretty-boy.”

Markus can see the moment his words register, and Zimmermann’s anger slides to confusion.

“Bitty? You think I --” Zimmermann doesn’t finish his thought because St. Martin is dragging him back to the bench so he doesn’t bleed all over the ice.

Markus fist-bumps Morin and is planning to take the penalty gracefully, a worthy punishment for defending a teammate’s honor, but Bittle gets in his face, furious.

“What the hell was that? What happened?”

“Accident,” Markus shrugs. “But maybe now he won’t fuck with you.”

“Excuse me?” The linesman waves Bittle off but he won’t go. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Markus!”

He settles in the box, avoids making eye contact with Bittle, who is staring daggers, or Zimmermann, who still looks like he’s trying to figure out what the hell just happened, and immediately starts poking at his swelling knuckles.

He sent a message tonight, he hopes it was the right one.

They lose, which isn’t a surprise, but the biggest shock is that Carter and Markus do not get the grateful thanks they were expecting.

“Jesus, he’s my friend!” Eric shouts after the last reporter has gone. “He was joking! And you broke his fucking nose?!”

“It didn’t look like he was joking,” Carter defends, stripping off his socks. “You weren’t laughing.”

“You don’t understand, it’s,” Eric cuts off with a huff, head bowed like the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders. “Jack’s...one of my best friends. I’ve been worried about playing against him because I’ve only ever played with him, and he is definitely not homophobic.”

He takes a look around the locker room and finds a number of the guys refusing to make eye contact.

“Y’all were really trying to protect me, weren’t you?” Eric asks, and a majority of the guys nod, which is slightly infuriating because Markus is the one who spent time in the box tonight.

“Aw, hell. Alright.” He points at Markus, then Carter.“You two, stay with me. We’re going to have a chat.”

Zimmermann is waiting for them in the hallway, doing his best impression of a raccoon with his twin black eyes and swollen face. Mashkov hovering at a polite distance, obviously there to prevent potential escalation.

“You broke my nose.” Zimmermann tells Markus the second the doors close, words thick around his injury. “So, thanks for that.”

“Sorry about that, buddy, it was a misunderstanding.” Markus apologizes.

Eric motions to Jack, who could be scowling but Markus really can’t tell. “Boys, this is Jack Zimmermann. Jack, Markus Bay and Carter Morin, the well-intentioned defenders of my honor.”

Eric takes Jack’s hand and that is...unexpected.

“Jack is my boyfriend. But it’s still a secret so don’t go running your damn fool mouths.”

“Oh, fuck,” Carter blurts. “Really? Shit, I’m so sorry, we thought you were...you know.”

“Yeah, I know what you thought,” Jack says. “Thank you for looking out for him, but fuck you both.”

Markus offers his hand, still swollen from the hit, and Zimmermann takes it. “Sorry I broke your nose, but you can take comfort knowing that I’ll do the same to anyone stupid enough to come after your boy in the future.”

In response, Zimmermann offers a pained smile while Bittle just holds up a middle finger.

#NHL!Bitty #zimbits #check please #omgcp #jack zimmermann #alternate title: Jack Zimmermann is not a homophobe #My stuff #my fic #maybe not my best work #but this guy needed to be wrapped up and out of my drafts

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ryukoishida · 7 years ago

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Arslan Senki Fandom Day 2017 [Encounter] | The second instalment of how idol!Gieve and singer-songwriter!Isfan meet and fall in love.

Written for Arslan Senki Fandom Day 2017 – [Encounter]

Title: Primadonna and the Piano Man [Part II] Author: ryukoishida Character(s)/Pairing(s): Isfan/Gieve Summary: This is the story of how one of the nation’s top idol Gieve and bestselling folk-rock musician Isfan meet (and eventually fall in love). [Idol/Musician!AU] Rating: T Warning: N/A A/N: The song that Isfan and Gieve worked on is based on “Lost One’s Weeping”, links of which you will find in the reblog!

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Sing When You’re in Love Series:

i. We Sing We Dance We Steal Hearts ii. We Sing We Dance We Fall in Love iii. Untitled iv. This Storm, It’s Coming v. I’m Yours (and so are they) vi. Primadonna and the Piano Man [Prequel] [Part I | Part II]

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Despite their temporary truce, their journey to achieve a top hit pop song is perilous and full of conflicts.

The first two sessions mostly involve the two of them throwing general ideas back and forth at each other. The discussion goes from the target audience to the genre of music they want to make. While Gieve is known for his catchy dance pop and sugary love songs mostly aimed at the younger teenage audiences, Isfan’s style strays from folk-rock songs dedicated to nature and romance to melancholic ballads of lost identity and destructive love.

After much shouting, pen-throwing, and paper-crumpling, they’ve finally decided the theme of their song would be about the burdens of education and pressures of expectations that many young people and students face nowadays. It’s a serious but relatable topic that would engage a wide range of listeners. As for the genre, Gieve wants to do a mellower, stripped-down, acoustic version — something that’s more forlorn and heart-wrenching; however, Isfan wants to make it into a rock anthem, angrily declaring the dissatisfaction and resentment, and calling for an action to change.

They reconcile with the decision to try both versions for now, and only after discussion with the producer and other staff will they make their final choice.

Then the song-writing process begins, and it doesn’t get any easier from there.

“This riff here doesn’t sound right,” Gieve, who’s sitting on a stool next to Isfan’s piano bench, is saying as he points at the eleventh and twelfth bars on the music sheet, which have been scrawled with Isfan’s neat handwriting, drawn notes and lines. “It’s not enough…”

“Not enough…?” Isfan glances over at the idol, a single eyebrow quirked up in question and his hands still hovering above the keyboard.

“You know: flair, energy, pizzazz!” Gieve waves his hands in a huge arching gesture, hoping the other man will understand.

Isfan stares blankly back at him, uncomprehending.

“Can you be any more vague?” Isfan heaves out an exasperated sigh and shifts over a little. “Why don’t you just show me? Here.” He pats the empty space next to him, and Gieve only hesitates for half a second before he accepts Isfan’s invitation and plops himself down on the bench.

The worn-out leather and oak seat isn’t really suited for two full-grown adult men, and so even with Isfan basically sitting on the very edge on one side, Gieve’s arm still lightly brushes against his whenever the idol moves just the slightest.

Not that Isfan is paying any special attention to how warm and comfortable Gieve feels sitting so closely next to him, or how nice he smells from whatever cologne he’d sprayed himself with that day, or how elegant and sensual his pale, slender fingers look against the black and white keys of the piano.

“Hmm, I’m thinking maybe something like this,” Gieve plays a series of notes that’s similar to what’s written on the music score, but with a slight variation to the rhythm so that the entire riff sounds a little livelier, a bit richer, than before. He tries a few more variations, his eyebrows puckering in deep concentration as he plays and teases the melodies much like how he does with the strings of his guitar. His glasses are sliding down the bridge of his nose but Gieve doesn’t even seem to notice, and Isfan has the strongest urge to reach over and fix it for him.

“Isfan… Isfan! What do you think?”

“Sorry, what was that?” Isfan instinctively shifts back and almost slips and falls off the bench when he realizes just how close Gieve is — close enough that if he ducks his head slightly, his lips would be touching the soft hair by the idol’s temple.

“The riffs — the ones I just played for you — which one do you think is better?”

To be honest, Isfan has stopped functioning after the first one Gieve has played. Gods. Staying in this god-forsaken studio with no natural lighting coming in for six hours straight is doing weird shit to his mind; he needs a break, and maybe a snack.

“Do you want to go for a break?” Gieve asks as if he’s just read his mind.

“Do you mind? I can use some caffeine and cup noodles.”

Isfan’s stomach growls in agreement.

“You know both those things are bad for your throat, right?” Gieve is surprised to find that the singer-songwriter, who seems so solemn and a stickler for rules at first glance, cares so little about his diet. Having healthy bodies and protecting their voices are especially important for artists like themselves, so ever since Gieve started training with his idol unit, he’d maintained a strict diet and exercise regime.

“Let me have some fun, mother,” Isfan yawns, standing up to stretch. His jeans ride low on his hips and a sliver of tanned skin is shown for just a few seconds, but the little display is enough to give Gieve a tiny heart attack, his cheeks flushing and turning uncomfortably warm.

He clears his throat, and turns away to face the piano when Isfan glances down at him.

“Wow. You? Fun? I never thought I’d hear you wanting to be associated with the word ‘fun’,” Gieve chuckles, getting up as well.

“Oh, fuck off,” Isfan is way too tired and hungry to come up with more creative insults.

“Come on, there’s a place close by that opens late and has really good savory snacks,” Gieve winds an arm around the taller man’s shoulders and steers him out the door.

“But the song…”

Isfan is only planning to quickly whip up some noodles and coffee in the pantry, so a thirty-minute break would have sufficed.

“The song can wait! Come on, come on! My treat!”

By the time they are sitting down to write the lyrics, the two musicians with drastically different roots and conflicting beliefs have become quite in sync in terms of their ideas. Occasionally, bickering would still break out, and staff passing by the studio, the door sometimes left a crack open to let in some air, would hear snippets of “what are you even trying to convey with this line here?” or “that doesn’t even rhyme!”

Even stranger still, those same staff members who’d overheard the arguments would often see Gieve and Isfan coming out of the studio after a few hours, and they would either share companionable silence after a long day of work or chattering about where to get dinner.

One night, the two were kicked out of the studio due to equipment maintenance, but neither of them wanted to stop because they felt like they were on the verge of finally writing something good after days of scraped ideas and ripped up notebook pages, so Gieve invited Isfan back to his place to continue.

Isfan didn’t even think twice before agreeing.

When they were satisfied with what they had written, it was already two o’clock in the morning. The public transit had stopped running and Isfan’s car had been left in the company parking lot, so naturally, Gieve volunteered to make spicy instant noodles with extra toppings and treated themselves with a bottle of ice-cold beer each for the conclusion of the gruesome yet fruitful lyric-writing session.

During the few weeks they spent together, Gieve discovered that Isfan was especially talkative when he got tired, and while they ate, slurping the hot soup and moaning at the deliciousness of cheap MSG-fueled ramen, Isfan began to ask questions.

“Why did you want to become an idol?”

“Finally taken an interest in me, Isfan?” Gieve sent him an exaggerated wink across the steaming pot sitting in the middle of the dining table.

“Just curious.”

“Honestly, it’s the same old story,” Gieve replied after swallowing a mouthful of noodles, “I was scouted by an agent from Ecbatana while I was still in high school. I didn’t have any grand plans back then, and no world-shattering ambitions or goals to speak of, so I thought, ‘Why the hell not? Sounds fun!’ and just went with the flow.”

“That’s so you,” Isfan commented with a small laugh.

“Isn’t it just? And then of course behind all that glamour, rivalry arose, friendships were crushed over jealousy and competition,” Gieve carefully blew on the fishcake dangling between his chopsticks to cool it down before putting it into his mouth.

“But you made it; you’re here,” Isfan said, placing his chopsticks down.

Gieve hummed, and for a brief moment, the two men concentrated on finishing their food and drinks.

“I’m sorry,” Isfan murmured, gaze dropping to the bottle of beer in his hands, fingers dragging droplets of condensation as they left smears on the table, “for my shitty behavior when we first met. I shouldn’t have judged you or your abilities before I even get to know you.”

“I sure showed you though, didn’t I?” Gieve grinned openly, and through the thin veil of steam that was still rising from the pot of finished noodles, he almost seemed surreal, the green of his eyes beckoning him in the fog, the quirk of his lips bearing a subtler message that Isfan had yet to decode, but that strange, clawing feeling disappeared as quickly as it had swooped down over him, and he found himself turning his head away, feeling uncomfortably hot and prickly.

“Isfan?” Gieve leaned over, his face full of concern.

“Sorry, just tired. It’s been a long day.”

Gieve didn’t ask any further.

After putting the dishes away, they settled contentedly on the couch, and with the politics and bloodshed of Game of Thrones playing softly in the background, the two men fell asleep leaning against each other, their breathing slowing down until they became one harmonizing melody.

The only main task left for them is recording the song. The instrumentals for both versions are recorded without any major hitches; Isfan is responsible for playing the piano in the acoustic version while both he and Gieve contribute to the guitar portions in the rock version. The rest of the instrumentals are filled in by the company’s contracted musicians.

However, recording vocals hasn’t gone as smoothly as they’ve hoped.

It has taken Gieve many, many tries before he can pinpoint the exact emotion he wants — that deep, furious growling that he’s still not quite used to but is necessary for this song — without messing up the lyrics, and this is especially difficult due to the unforgivingly swift tempo that leaves the singer with very little space in between to take a breath.

On the contract, it’s been stated that Gieve will be responsible for the main vocals of the single, so while Isfan doesn’t necessarily need to be present for the vocal recording, he still sits in the recording booth with the audio engineer, entranced by the way Gieve puts everything into his singing while he keeps insisting that he can do better and pleads with the recording engineer to let him have another attempt even though his voice is obviously becoming scratchy from overuse.

During the weeks they were working on the melody and lyrics, Isfan already realizes that despite the idol’s seemingly gregarious and flippant personality, as if he never takes anything or anyone seriously, Gieve is an entirely different being when he throws himself deep into his work: he will nitpick and scratch out ideas until he deems the product near perfect to his satisfaction, and this is certainly one quality that Isfan has learned to respect.

About two hours into recording, with almost the entire bottle of water emptied, Isfan signals at the idol for him to come out of the booth, but Gieve merely shakes his head and speaks into the microphone to let them know that he’s still fine to continue.

The audio engineer looks between the two musicians, uncertain of how to proceed, but Isfan gives him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before entering the recording booth himself, half-dragging, half-persuading Gieve to take a much-needed break.

“Just let me try a few more takes! I almost got it, come on—”

“No, your voice is cracking. You need to rest,” Isfan insists.

“Isfan’s right. Let’s give it another go tomorrow,” the audio engineer tells Gieve kindly.

Isfan nods his thanks, and then with a firm and steady hand, he pulls the bewildered idol out the door with a polite “see you tomorrow” aimed at the audio engineer.

“All right, all right, will you let go already?”

Gieve has been blindly following Isfan without really questioning where he’s taking him; not that he has any choice to begin with since the taller man still has a strong hold of his hand as he leads them down one hallway after another. A few passerby staff give them odd looks as they rush past, but they keep the muttering to themselves, though it doesn’t stop all kinds of rumours from spreading outside of the company that will gradually accompany the release of the single in the upcoming weeks.

Isfan finally lets him go when they reach the roof. They’ve taken the stairs instead of the elevator to avoid the worst of the crowd, but even walking up three flights of stairs is enough to make Gieve, who exercises regularly through dance rehearsals and gym visits, sweat and breathe raggedly, his arm hanging onto the railing to support his weight when they finally reach the top.

The roof of Ecbatana Entertainment Productions has been renovated into a garden where employees can rest in a peaceful spot away from the stress and worry of their work for a little while. The place is usually crowded during lunch time, but it is now nearing seven o’clock in the evening, the sky deepening into violet and blue and awash with splashes of pink and gold of the setting sun, the rooftop garden is utterly deserted.

Bushes of blooming lavender planted in squares of soil in the center of the garden create a waft of pleasant and sweet floral scent with a trace of evening summer breeze. Leaves of various plants that neither man remembers the names of whisper and rustle softly around them, and for the moment, they share the illusion of being the only ones in this world as the city halts its steps for the night.

The two men settle on one of the benches that allows them to overlook the city skyline.

“Now that you’ve got me all by my lonesome,” Gieve breaks the silence easily and glances up at him with his infamous smile, the frustration from a few minutes ago gone without a trace as he wraps an arm intimately around Isfan’s shoulders, “is there something you wish to confess?”

Turning to face him properly, Isfan almost loses the ability to speak; their faces are only inches apart, and it reminds him of the first time they met — how irritated he’d felt towards the cheeky idol, how much he’d wanted to push him away and walk out of that room, how much more he’d wanted to pull him in and kiss him until neither of them can breathe.

He exhales slowly, eyes slipping close to refocus, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t want to.

“I’m worried about you,” Isfan says.

“Oh,” Gieve chuckles airily, “this is new.”

“I’m serious, damn it,” Isfan grits out, eyes flashing golden and black when he opens them again. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard for the past week; you’ve barely finished any of your meals, and I know you’ve been chugging energy drinks when you thought nobody’s watching.”

“Well, apparently, someone’s been watching me closely,” Gieve’s grin turns a little mischievous as he leans in even closer, close enough that their breaths are mixing, a hand dragging up to the nape of Isfan’s neck.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Isfan murmurs, feeling the idol’s fingers splayed warm and heavy against the back of his neck, and he’s entirely too distracted by the other man’s eyes, made deeper green by the colored contact lenses and lightly lined in kohl due to an event he needs to attend later on tonight, and his smiling mouth, the subtle twist an alluring challenge, an undeniable invitation.

“Seeking comfort, decreasing my stress levels, trying to make you notice me more, and so on and so forth,” Gieve replies.

Isfan laughs lightly at the last item of Gieve’s statement, clearly amused by the idol’s attempt to flirt with him (which is working weirdly well, all things considered), and Gieve pouts at the reaction, slightly insulted.

“What? Why are you laughing? This is no laughing matter, you know—”

Isfan only laughs harder, the corner of his eyes crinkling and the sound of his laughter soft and rumbling like distant thunder echoing in a forest that sets alight something deep within Gieve, making his blood tremble with delight.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” Isfan says, and then he’s pulling Gieve towards himself by a fistful of his shirtfront, his mouth crashing against the idol’s unceremoniously in a messy kiss.

“And this week, on the Pars Top 40 Chart, a newly released single has reached the number one spot: it’s Gieve, featuring guest artist Isfan, ‘The Lost Ones’ Fantasy’!”

---

A/N: Goodness. Excuse the terrible writing. I started giving up towards the end and didn’t really bother anymore…

#arslansenkifandomday2017 #arslan senki #the heroic legend of arslan #gieve #isfan #isfan/gieve #gieve/isfan #bowie's crappy writing

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thataspdfeel · 7 years ago

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I'm curious, what are you most attracted to in your partners? Is it similar traits in all of them or different ones like their sense of humour etc.? Sorry if this is a weird question but you've said before you like when people ask about them so I thought I would.

i was so excited to get this and then forgot to answer it :/ im an idiot

also gonna put this under a cut cause this is gonna be hella long cause im a fucking romantic dork

god though i could wax poetic. they’re all so lovely. like they have traits in common but also are unique. they all have brown eyes but theyre unique. like my husband has these eyes that remind me of warm chocolate. like a chocolate fountain kind of warm chocolate. dark and smooth but reflect the light. my wife’s have tinges of gold in the irises like flecks of gold leaf. and theres a dark ring around the pupil and one around the edge of the iris. theyre fucking magical

my boyfriend’s eyes are almost black and very deep. darker than the night sky and full of warmth and mischief. but its like theyre never ending, like he can see the innermost parts of whoever he’s looking at, like your soul is written on your forehead

lmao i love eyes can you tell

they all have these goddamned sinful eyelashes and my boyfriend’s are the longest. theyre as dark as his eyes and when he’s embarrassed, he gets all shy and they brush against his cheekbones like how dare you sir. how dare you be beautiful even when youre embarrassed. i look like a fucking tomato. rude

my husband’s look gold at the tips with the way the light catches them. like yknow how fake eyelashes have purple or red at the tips? like that except gold. like what??? the fuck??? rude

they all have very soft hair though my boyfriend’s is the longest. i cant wait to get with him irl again cause i wanna braid it. he’s got a bony face and it frames it so well. it’s so dark brown its almost black and it’s fun to see him try to sweep it out of his face cause he refuses to tie it up

my husband has these wild curls. we were looking up how to take care of them and that’s how we found out hes ethnically jewish. (which makes sense considering he’s german) they get so thick and heavy and they’re so soft and lovely to nap in. which i do on a semi regular basis. its so soft and lovely and i love when he grows it out. he just doesn’t look right with shorter hair. and he has this beard that grows funny, makes him look like jedidiah if yknow what i mean. he has such a baby face without it and he loves beard scritches it’s so cute how happy he gets

bluh im bouncing all over the place i just??? love them?????? so??????????? much???????????????? there’s so much to talk about!!!

so i guess i’ll just try and make a list of the things i love about them

husband:

cheerful, bubbly, very sunny personality. the human incarnation of a very excited dog (which can be A Lot sometimes)

extremely kind. would give you the shirt off his back. often laments that he stopped carrying cash years ago every time he sees somebody who could use some despite the fact that we’re always broke

a proper southern gentleman??? like im fat so im used to people not holding doors open for me fucking ever and being really goddamned rude in general. he ALWAYS holds doors open for me, opens the car door for me both to get in and out of the car, and gets pouty if i try and carry my own bag. it’s so sweet??? ive literally never had that before and even after three and a half years, it’s still so charming

he will do literally anything the fuck i ask. he’ll say no and im like oh ok and he’ll tease like “finally! i said no! and got away with it!” just to make me giggle and then does it anyway

on this note, he also always cooks as much as absolutely possible. even though his spine gives him problems, he does his best to keep me off my leg

he’s always so concerned about my well being. like if there’s not a disability cart at the front of a store, he makes me sit down while he goes and chases one down. if im stiffer than usual due to a cold front, he’ll remind me to take pain meds every four hours

he’s trying to learn japanese because he knows i dont have anybody to practice with here in the states. just for me and not any other reason

adores animals. even if he finds a dog annoying, he’ll still fawn over it and give it as many pets as it wants and won't ever snap at it even if anybody else would. he’s got these large hands and he’s kind of clumsy but this goes away around animals. he’s just so careful and gentle like i never ever worry

drags me out of my introverted cave because he knows social interaction is also good

has introduced me to some of my favorite books and video games because he’s verious conscious about what somebody likes and works to be like “hey, i think youd like this” and is almost always correct??? amazing

has 0 sense of style but doesnt mind somebody who knows better keeping him from absolute disaster

dude is a damned good cook. ive gained like at least a solid 25 pounds since he moved in and started cooking regularly

SPEAKING OF COOKING, we met on the tail end of my anorexia when i was doing my best to recover and still slipping up. he never made me feel bad about it but always encouraged me to eat. he eats SO much (think shaggy rogers) that i always felt comfortable eating in front of him. he always reminds me to eat and asks if ive eaten that day. honestly, i wouldnt be at this level of recovery if it hadnt been for him

is amazing at caling me down holy fuck

wife:

met her first, of the three of them, ironically so ive known her the longest but been with her the shortest. we dated a few months in hs but there was a chick she wanted to date like right there (and i was in japan) so i was like oh go for it. well, they broke up and we got back together and it’s been lovely ever since

she has this snorting laugh that’s adorable to listen to and it makes me feel more comfortable laughing (because i think i sound like a damn goose)

SHE HAS SO MANY GODDAMNED FRECKLES ON HER CUTE LITTLE FACE THEY’RE ADORABLE AND AMAZING AND VERY FUN TO KISS BECAUSE SHE SQUIRMS

she has a goddamned button nose for chrissakes

and these really wide hips too like i felt bad about my hips years ago cause theyre p wide but shes adorable and has wide hips too. she kinda made me love them (even though hers are better)

she’s genderfluid so i get to be gay all across the gender spectrum (im agender) and she’s so beautiful and handsome and v amazing

we were both homestuck fans at the height of it (like we still are) but her cosplays are just really well done??? shes so talented

OH MY GOD SHE MAKES THIE CHICKEN SOUP WITH HOMEMADE NOODLES I WOULD SLAP AN OLD LADY FOR

i dont know about the rest of her cooking (sadly) due to limited time around each other but i cant fucking wait tbh. her cookies kill me tho i love them

an amazing fashion sense. im a dumpster compared to her

an amazing writer and artist and i die every time she sends me something like my soul fucking ascends

she loved me BEFORE meds which i think is amazing. like what a lovely human being yknow? im a dick without meds and she loved me anyway and i love that about her

she speaks german and she makes it sound beautiful and i cry

her singing voice is so angelic and it kills me when she sings because everybody should hear this lovely person sing

she is hyper empathetic and it makes her so lovely and kind and wonderful. she completely understands how i feel about things and why even when no one else does and is very good at de-escalating me when im upset

we’ve just known each other for something like 7 years now? like i dated her post my abusive ex and she lit up my whole world with happiness at being treated well. then her ex was abusive and just... we get each other? in a way where her husband and my other two partners dont. its a pain the others dont understand so we go to each other during these times of pain in a way we cant with other people. it’s a very special connection

she’s a goddamned goof and i love it

my boyfriend:

motherfucker is so skinny which is the opposite of me and for some reason it works?? idk like it worries me but it’s also unique. love it

we dated almost my whole senior year of hs but he broke up with me because he thought he didnt have the same depth of emotion as i did for him and didnt want to “hold me back” from somebody better. like??? can you imagine?????? how fucking kind

recently started dating again like it took him fourish years for him to realize SHIT I MADE A MISTAKE so he’s a little slow but he’s so very thoughtful

he’s a goof in a different way than the other two. dad jokes. never ending fucking dad jokes. and goddamned puns. he never stops. dont tell him i love them because then he’ll never let me tease him again (i pretend like its The Worst)

so. fucking. dramatic. always flips his hair in the sassiest way possible. its super gay (he’s bi)

he doesnt do a whole lot of romance or saying WHY he feels certain ways. he feels like it cheapens the emotion. but, on the rare occassion he doesnt let this bother him, his poetry he sends me about how he feels makes me fucking cry. it’s so beautiful. i love it

he works watering at a plant nursery and complains about how the bees always use him as a landing strip. it’s adorable

he’s so resourceful?? this is best seen when playing minecraft cause he makes some damn cool structures in some really nice places. i love playing it with him just to see what he builds and how (especially since im a boring, lets make this house a square kinda ho)

he’s so camera shy??? no selfies no skype at all. he’s so bashful and it’s super cute i love it

got me into DnD like yes thank you for this enjoyable nerdery

the sole reason i passed math in hs. like not only is he smart but hes also really good at explaining things to people? definitely a talent for teaching people things

he was my best friend for the longest time like all three of them are my best friend but he was the only one who was my best friend FIRST and then romance blossomed

like im demiromantic so i need a strong connection to fall in love like it was a solid few months of dating my husband before i began to love him. i knew my wife for awhile and got close so same general story. but my boyfriend and i were more friends to lovers and i love that about him

his dad is half italian so he talks with his hands and it’s so overdramatic that he hits people with them on a semi regular basis just gesturing. he once accidentally knocked my glasses all the way across a room cause i had walked behind him and he made a sweeping gesture. hilarious

one time, i had food poisoning and the pain was so bad, i had to crawl under his kitchen table until my mother came to take me to the base clinic. he sat with my head in his lap and brushed my hair out of my face and cooed gently at me to try and soothe me. it was so sweet and ive never forgotten about it

motherfucker, with the help of my sister, dragged me into homestuck

he’s so damn shy about affection that holdling his hand in public makes him blush. it’s even worse if i steal a kiss. fucking adorable

things all three have in common that i love:

good in bed. it sounds silly but this is important to me because while i dont necessarily need sex to form a close relationship to fall in love, it definitely helps

idk how this happened, i really dont, but somehow everything i like lines up nicely with everything they like??? and if im not into something, they can find it with each other and vise versa. lmao wtf how did this happen to line up idk

kind, generous, sweet, and helpful although all three show these qualities in different ways despite having them in common

love me??? like honestly it sounds so silly that id love that they love me but im such a flawed, terrible human being that it leaves me in deep awe that not only does one person love me but three??? how??? amazing people to find something in me to love and to keep on loving despite all my problems. beautiful

creative, smart, and inventive each in their own right. they fucking astound me and take my breath away

beautiful cuddlers (not being sarcastic, promise)

husband is a goddamned heater but boyfriend is a living block of ice. then wife is one of those who’s in between but she steals your heat and then hours later gives it back which is the worse option of the three. like it starts out all nice but then you end up surprised hours later because youre fucking dying of heatstroke

so we have two heatstroke, drowning in sweat options and then losing your limbs. it makes trying to set the thermostat a fucking nightmare

they all love to read and honestly? i couldnt be with anyone who doesnt like a good book

can hold lively, in depth discussions about things

hubby tends to lean more towards “would it be immoral to fuck a succubus” type morality questions and superhero dissection type things

wife is all over the place and can carry on a conversation about goddamned teapots if she so chose. no idea how she does it

boyfriend likes to entertain more morbid thoughts and psychology but also likes to analyze things. like homestuck. we still fucking dissect homestuck

very intelligent. blows my dumb ass out of the water. beautiful

like gaming various amounts and various kinds of games. hubs likes any and all. boyfriend likes dnd, monster hunter, minecraft etc kinds of things, not really one for cards or board games. wife prefers to craft but will occasionally engage in board games or cards, less so in video games but tends to stick to pokemon. it’s nice

they’re all very physically beautiful though in different ways. hubby is barrel chested and german with very strong arms and big hands, a bright and sunny smile. wife is small and round with tiny, artist hands and a sweet, pixie face. boyfriend is thin, long, and gaunt with pale skin and dark hair (kind of like damien from dream daddy tbh)

i could go on but ive been making this post for like well over two hours now and i figured maybe i should stop. it’s long as hell and idk if anybody else would have read this whole thing but basically i fucking adore my partners??? so much??? and there are so many things about them to love???

i just love them so much and could go on and on for hours about why i love each of them and how lovely they are and how they make me feel

ksdjrfgh im so sorry this is so long theres just so much to talk about //sweats

#mod vann #long post #text heavy #like this is obscenely long lmao #im so sorry #Anonymous #anon #vannswers

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