#okay have a good day sorry this post/tags became so long haha | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweatersstyles · 4 years ago

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gotta get better

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This concept has been in my head for a while now and it took me like a month to write and edit and just get it all out! I had surgery two years ago today and it was one of the most emotional, stressful experiences of my life simply bc I’m just a big baby lol. This is just something to celebrate that day and the fact that I’m still so happy it’s all over! Fluffy af as usual cause that’s all I know how to write. :)

Thankful to @bfharry and @bopbopstyles for not only inspiring me with their amazing writing but pushing me towards finishing this and reaching (even going over) my personal 5k goal! I appreciate you both so much!!

I recently saw a post about tagging triggers properly so I’m gonna do it that way but if I do it wrong or it doesn’t work PLEASE let me know and I will fix it immediately (just want to be sure all my bases are covered)

// needles tw, pills tw (prescription), anxiety tw // (if I missed anything I should’ve tagged please please let me know!!) and I’m sure there are some medical inaccuracies bc that whole day is kind of a blur for me haha

as always likes/rbs/comments are welcome but absolutely not necessary :)

final word count: 7.1k

"Y'nervous, angel?"

"Hmm?"

"Bout to chew your finger off. I know there can't be much of a nail left."

Your hand drops back to your lap. You hadn't even realized you were doing it. A bad habit of the nervous child you thought you'd long forgotten. He offers his left hand and you accept it, thumb swiping over the cross painted across his skin. He knows it's one of your favorites and you're thankful for the comfort. You don't know how many times he'd teased you about how you would eventually rub it off one day and he'd have to get it redone.

"S'a routine surgery, I bet they do them all day. You're gonna be fine."

You'd been over all this a thousand times before. Harry had to ban you from looking up the procedure online at one point. You became obsessive with worry. What if you're still awake when they cut into you and you can't talk? What if you feel everything and can't tell anyone? What if you don't wake up? He had shot down every one of your horrifying theories.

"How much longer before they take me back?"

"Nurse said it would be about 10 minutes when we checked in. Shouldn't be too much longer. Want me to check the board again?"

Checking in had only consisted of a nurse taking your name and giving you your bracelet for the day with an ID number. The number would help Harry stay updated on where you were throughout the whole process. The "board" was simply a tv mounted to the wall that frequently cycled through each patient's last name and ID number.

"No, no," You cling to his sleeve like a desperate child, "Don't leave again. She said they wouldn't update anything until I went back anyway."

Harry had left you only briefly when you first arrived. Hands in his pockets, wandering around like a lost child around the big, open expanse of the waiting room. He stayed where you could see him and the whole time you had anxiously chewed your bottom lip until he returned. You hated it, but you knew he was just as nervous as you. So you let him have that moment. To check his surroundings and release some of the nerves so he could come back to you, calm and cool as always.

When the nurse does call your name, you almost jump out of your skin. You freeze, unable to move. Harry stands and flashes the nurse a quick smile before turning back to you and offering his hand.

You shake your head, "I can't do this, H. I feel like I'm gonna throw up if I move."

"You're not, promise. Remember those breathing exercises we practiced? Do those. C'mon..deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out. Do it while we walk."

Slow deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out.

You remember how silly you felt the first time you did it. How it made you giggle at first. This is never going to work. But eventually it did. Anytime you got upset or started to overthink about this day, Harry made you stop whatever you were doing and sit down. Breathe.

It was a little difficult to do while walking. Your body wanted to pause your steps when your breath paused, but Harry tugged you along, you almost hiding behind him until you made it through a set of heavy wooden doors to a small space with a hospital bed and a curtain drawn in front of it.

The IV had had been your biggest dread, the fear overriding any logic that it was something you needed, instead of something the nurses decided to do simply to torture you.

Your face twists into a wince of pain when the needle goes into your vein, Harry standing over you, his face a mirror of your own as you squeeze his hand. When the nurse pulls away with a triumphant "all done!" you flash a look of surprise between your arm and Harry.

"Not that bad, eh? Think ya overreacted a bit about how bad that was gonna be?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to shoot him a nasty look for teasing you.

"Maybe a little." You pinch your index finger and thumb together, indicating a minimal amount.

"Tiny bit more, babe," Another nurse appears from around the curtain and he laughs before speaking to her, "it's all she's worried about all morning."

"Honestly that's everyone's least favorite part. The rest of the day should be aces if you can handle that!"

Harry settles himself into a chair while the nurse goes through a myriad of questions. Any other surgeries? Allergies to medications you know of? Do you smoke? Drink?

Harry snorts when you say no to drinking, but quickly clasps his hand over his mouth when the nurse's head snaps to look between you and him.

"The occasional drink is fine, no worries. Nothing this morning though, right?"

"No, ma'am."

Your eyes meet his, a mischievous grin still plastered across his face. He mumbles a quick "sorry" while you try to pull your concentration back towards the nurse and the remainder of her questions.

"Alright, time for the good stuff," she passes you a small clear cup with two white pills, "First one is just something to keep you calm and relaxed, second one is to prevent any pain after the procedure. They'll give you something to make you sleepy when you get to the OR, but this might make you a bit loopy for now."

"This should be fun." Harry claps his hand in front of him, rubbing them together quickly. He leans forward in his chair, as if ready for a show.

"Yeah? Is she a happy drunk?"

Harry had only ever experienced you high on any sort of prescription medication once, almost a year ago when you went on a girl's trip with your best friend and twisted your ankle in an attempt to make it back to her car after dinner out one night. You calling him from an unknown ER in the middle of the night had terrified him enough to start packing a bag to fly to you before your best friend could grab your phone and assure him you were fine and she would put you on a plane home to him in two days as planned. He had teased you endlessly when he picked you up from the airport and for the next few days afterwards as you limped around on a bruised, ACE bandage wrapped foot.

But after too many wine drunk nights to count, he had enough stories to humiliate you with and the thought of any one of them being told now had you sinking further into the hospital bed.

"You could say that. Last time she.." His voice trails off at the sight of your eyes, wide as saucers, begging him to stop.

The nurse grins, her face kind and sympathetic to your silent cry for help.

"We're a little behind schedule this morning so it may be about 20 minutes before they come transport you, okay?" You nod, the effects of the sedative already working its way through your system, "Keep an eye on her? Make sure she behaves?"

"Yeah, I got her. We'll be fine, thank you so much." He's closer now, standing next to you again, a hand sliding up your arm to settle on your shoulder. You manage a thumbs up and a sleepy "thank you" as an affirmation that you appreciate all she's done for you.

"You're more than welcome. You'll have a different set of nurses in recovery but if you need anything until they come get you, just let me know, alright?"

"We will, thanks." His thumb ghosts across the front of your collarbone, the lightest of touches to soothe you, his eyes still focused on the nurse.

"Good luck! You're gonna do just fine, I promise."

The second she's around the curtain, Harry nudges you lightly, "Scoot."

"Huh? What do you mean..Harry, there's not enough room for you in this bed." Your head feels too light to deal with his nonsense now.

"Yeah there is if you scoot. C'mon. Hurry before we get caught. M’supposed to be keeping an eye on you, remember? Gotta make sure you don't fall outta the bed."

He's already wedged himself next to you, trying to make his tall frame fit into the limited space.

You move over as much as you can, the rail of the bed poking into your hip.

He tucks one arm behind your head, the other one thrown behind his own as a cushion.

"You feel more relaxed now, lovie?"

You scrunch down in the bed, just enough that you can tuck your head under his other arm, "A little. I don't feel sleepy enough though," Your eyes dart up, seeking the comfort of his face, "I'm scared, H."

"I know you are, baby," the hand behind your head shifts to cup around your arm, pulling you closer, "Just pretend you're home with me and we're taking a nice little nap together, yeah?"

"But you won't be there with me, not really."

"I'll be there when you wake up though. First thing you'll see when you open your eyes, promise." He runs a finger along the curve of your nose, "Close your eyes. Try to sleep, hmm?"

You shake your head, turning towards him to hide your face in his side, inhaling his scent.

"Want me to turn the light off? Would that help?"

"No," You toss the arm that isn't trapped between you two over him, holding tightly to his shirt, "Stay."

"Alright, then. We'll just wait," He tilts his head to rest closer to yours, "Have you thought about what you want to eat after?"

"Not really. M'too nervous to think about food."

"We'll think of something good. Whatever you want."

"You're gonna get us in trouble, better scoot back to your corner like a good boy." Your words come out unintentionally slurred and you weakly push yourself up and away from him as he slides off. He doesn't sit though, just stands near you, an anxious look flashing across his features.

"Hey, c'mere. Gonna be fine, routine surgery, remember?" You stretch your arms out to him, a plea to be near his warmth again.

He sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. You tug lightly at the sleeve of his cardigan, a feeble attempt to pull him closer. He indulges you, his brow still creased with distress.

"Know ya gonna be fine, just hate you have to go through it at all. Wish I could take it from you without all this." He gestures to the IV he knows you despise so much.

"You have helped take it from me. All the sleepless nights you spent up with me, holding my hair back when I got sick. All the days after when I was too drained to get out of bed. You were there for as much of it as you could be. And you pushed me to go see the surgeon in the first place. You've helped me more than you give yourself credit for."

His fingers intertwine in yours, the pad of his thumb soothing over the front of your hand.

"Make sure you keep my phone with you, my mom will probably call you every 30 minutes for updates." A yawn stretches across your face, "She has your number too, bullied me into giving it to her last week when I called to tell her about the surgery."

He nods, patting his pocket to make sure both phones are still nestled there together.

Another yawn threatens to escape and you muffle it this time, more content to fight sleep to stare at Harry; his hair a perfect mess of curls under the harsh brightness of the hospital lighting. His face is more relaxed now, his eyes still focused on your fingers tangled together. He catches you, your eyes glazed over, too heavy and threatening to close.

"Darling, please close your eyes. I can see how tired you are," His fingertips sweep delicately over your nose again, as if he was lulling a baby to sleep, "You don't have to stay awake for me."

"Closing my eyes for just a second, alright? Not because you told me to though. I want to. Wake me up in 2 hours, don't wanna sleep too long."

Your eyes are already drifting closed, the last thing you hear is a chuckle; effortless, light as air, "I will, promise."

Soft kisses pressed across your face, "Sweet dreams, love."

His voice is the first you hear as you wake up in the dimly lit recovery room. Well, really it was more like a big cubicle, another space with a curtain drawn in front of it. Even with the floaty, dreamy feeling flowing through your system, you can still detect the worry in his voice.

"Harry?" It takes your mind a minute to catch up and process where you are and what had happened.

Oh yeah. Surgery day. No more annoying gallbladder. No more sleepless nights. Freedom to eat what you want and not be haunted by nausea and sickness from what you ate.

"How are you feeling? Any pain?" Suddenly a nurse in bright blue scrubs is there, way too animated and loud at the moment, "Pain scale 1-10?"

"I don't have any pain. Zero." You're aware of how high you sound and a giggle escapes through the haze. That earns you a smile from Harry, one that lights up his whole face and makes his dimples shine through.

"Awesome! Well then as soon as you're good and awake we're gonna get this IV out and go over some paperwork for both of you to sign. I want you to drink something for me too, so what would you like?"

You request a ginger ale and as soon as the nurse leaves to retrieve it for you, Harry scoots the chair he's sitting in as close to the bed as possible.

"How long was I out?"

"Couple of hours," He absentmindedly fixes your hair, looping various curls back around to their respective places, "Took a little longer than expected, you had a small infection so they had to make sure it hadn't spread."

"How much longer?"

"Long enough you had us all slightly worried." His hand trails down your cheek to cup your chin gently, urging you to look at him, "You sure you're not in pain? Now's not the time to do that stubbornly brave thing you do where you pretend nothing's wrong."

"I feel fine, really. Just a little tired, ready to go home."

He studies your face, trying to find any trace of dishonesty. When he's satisfied you're being truthful, he stands and extracts your phone from his pocket.

"Already talked to ya mum, but your co-workers were all texting you, asking how you were. Figured you'd want to handle that yourself, didn't know how much detail you would want to give them."

"Did you give my mother all the details? Infection and everything?"

"Um, no. I knew better than to do that. Promised her you would call when I got you settled at home."

"You promised or she demanded?"

"Okay..she politely asked that you call her when we get home."

"That sounds more like her." You roll your eyes, pushing yourself so you're sitting more upright in the bed.

"She just worries about you." He adjusts the pillow behind you, fluffing and tucking it where you direct it, against your lower back.

"I know. I'll FaceTime her when we get home to prove I'm alive."

"It's been a while since we've seen them, maybe we should plan a visit?" He plops himself back in the chair, leaning back as far as he can go; hands behind his head, eyes closed. You'd both gotten very little sleep the night before, you were too anxious and he was too gracious to let you suffer alone.

"Oh please, I'm lucky I even got time off to do this. My boss would never allow another break so soon."

"Maybe for the holidays?"

"Maybe..but only if you can go with me, you know they love you more than me by now anyway."

"They do not," He peeks one eye open at you, "They love us both equally."

You shoot a quick text to your co-workers, using the group chat between the few of you to make it easier.

I'm out! Feeling okay for now but that might change later lol

The nurse is back, apologizing for taking so long, "We've been so behind all day, it's crazy busy. I had to wait for your doctor to sign off on your release." She hands you a can of ginger ale, white bendy straw already poised and ready for you.

"Just need you to sign here," She holds a clipboard and a pen out to you and you balance the can dangerously in one hand while you scribble something that resembles your signature. Close enough. She gestures for you to pass the clipboard to Harry, "His signature goes under yours, just says he's responsible for you for the next few hours until everything wears off."

"This means I'm the boss, right?" He leans over to grab the board, a wink thrown in your direction. He's enjoying himself way too much at the thought of being in control of you for the next few hours. Smug son of a bitch.

She takes the clipboard back and pulls off a yellow sheet of paper, "This is just your copy of what you signed, and also has post op instructions for your bandages. Your prescription's been sent to the pharmacy, and there's a brief summary of pain management information on the bottom there just in case you need it."

"Thank you." You transfer it right to Harry's waiting hand, knowing he'll be the one surveying every word, making sure you follow everything to the letter.

"I know you mentioned earlier having a little bit of a drive home, so probably once you get her some food and pick up her prescriptions, it'll be time for another round of meds. Okay?" She turns to you again, "I know it sounds silly, but one of the most important things after this particular surgery is lots of walking. Otherwise you'll be miserable. Rest for a while when you get home, then get up every 10 minutes or so until bedtime. Don't let her skip that part, alright? Very important."

"I heard you weren't a big fan of this thing," She nods towards the IV in your right forearm, "So this'll probably be the best part of this whole process for you. We'll get this out and then you can get changed and we'll get someone to wheel you down and out of here, alright? Don't look and you won't even know when it's gone."

"Hey, think about what you want to eat, huh? Your first freedom meal. Yay!" He slips his hand into your left, raising your connected hands victoriously. You didn't think it was possible for you to love him anymore until this moment. The way he could so easily erase your fear was one of his many gifts you adored him for, "What are we having, babe?"

You don't even hesitate before answering, "Pizza, from Milano's. It's my favorite, other than that one place in Italy you took me to. Please? Oh and one of their salads, with the little bread knots on the side!"

He glances at the nurse, awaiting a reprimand for your meal choice.

"As your nurse, I feel I should remind you that while you can have anything you feel like eating, we usually recommend something small and light at first. Broth or soup with some toast, maybe. The salad may be fine, but the pizza might be a little heavy. Taking it slow would be best. But everyone is different."

"So..just cheese then? Maybe some mushrooms?"

You let your head fall back against the pillow, a foggy haze settling over you, "Plain cheese, no mushrooms."

"Alright, sounds good. Why don't I go call it in and pull the car around? Meet you out front?" He leans closer, a quick peck to your cheek before pulling his hand loose from yours and turning to leave.

"Hey, wait," You attempt to tug at his wrist, but fail, your brain still set to slow-motion. He takes pity on you and returns to your side, "Let's eat there. It's in the mall so we can window shop after we eat."

"You sure? You still seem a bit tipsy, honey."

You don't feel tipsy. Just tired, and hungry. Very hungry. As if on cue, your stomach makes a remarkably loud noise; an objection at not being fed for the past 12 hours.

"Alright, alright, calm down. " You let out an embarrassed groan when you realize he's talking to your stomach, "We'll eat there."

He kisses you again, closer to your mouth, "Missed."

"I did, huh?" He chuckles, close enough to your face now your noses are almost touching, "Let's try again."

This time his lips meet yours and you know he missed on purpose the first time by how amused he looks when he pulls away.

"One more for luck?" You can't resist letting the back of your hand wander over his face, before resting the palm of your hand against his cheek.

"I think I can handle that," He smiles before landing another quick peck to your lips, "Be good for the nurse while I'm gone. I'll have the getaway car ready in 10, yeah?"

You're certain Harry would have fed you if you would have let him, right here in the mall food court in front of everyone. But you refuse, insisting even, on carrying your own tray to the table. He chuckles when you pull your phone out of your sweater pocket to take a picture of your food, quickly uploading it to Facebook.

He watches you closely as you take the first bite, even pulling his own phone out to sneak a photo of you when you temporarily close your eyes to appreciate the indulgence of being able to eat one of your favorite foods again; free from that anxious feeling of whether or not it would settle right with your body later. You open your eyes the very moment after he captured the image.

"Harry!"

"You just looked so happy! I couldn't help it. You know I'll never post it anyway. Snagged a few of you earlier in your little blue cap they made you wear too." He flips back through to show you. You try to snatch the phone away, but he's too quick to pull his hand back and stash his phone in his pocket.

"When??"

"After you fell asleep, right before they came to take you back."

He takes a bite from his own generous slice of pizza in front of him before gesturing to your tray, "How is it?"

"Amazing. Even better than before, if possible."

His smile is bright, loving the satisfaction of seeing you actually enjoy food again.

Your plan to walk around the mall was cut short, you could barely make it through one store without yawning. You cling to Harry most of the way back to the car, his arm securely wrapped around you to keep you steady.

You doze off on the drive home, and when your eyes flutter open you find him opening the passenger door, offering a hand to help lift you out of the car and up the stairs into the house. Your foot stumbles on the first step, failing to make contact and you almost fall back.

"Easy," He giggles, an arm thrown behind your back to catch you before encouraging softly, "Try again."

When he's confident you're stable enough on your feet, he lets go to unlock the door.

You're greeted by a bouquet of flowers, a colorful arrangement of roses and lilies from Harry's band mates. You immediately recognize Sarah's handwriting on the card and make a mental note to shoot everyone a thank you text later. You don't know if it's the medication still in your system, the exhaustion of the day, or the overwhelming amount of love that makes you teary eyed.

Harry stands behind you as you admire the flowers and the card, arms curving around to hug you, careful of the large bandage on your upper abdomen and the two smaller steri-strips on your right side.

"How did they know pink roses were my favorite?"

"They love you, peach." He rests his chin on your shoulder, "Besides, you've only mentioned growing up with a pink rose bush in your Nanna's garden about a hundred times."

"I always loved it. Still do."

Your mind travels back to your earliest memories spent there; summers when you practically lived at the small house on the hill. Helping pick tomatoes and peppers from the garden, too warm afternoons spent with a book in your lap under the shade of a peach tree, your grandfather's corny jokes and loving smile. Your Nanna's too generous portions of food contributing to the few extra curves you still carried with you to this day.

You don't even notice the tears at first. They slip down your cheeks and land on his arm. Once you realize, you try to quickly wipe them away, but Harry sees.

"Hey..c'mon, I think your high's wearing off a bit, bub. Pajamas, meds, nap. Sound good?" He turns you to face him, using the sleeve of his shirt to brush away any tears that still linger at the corner of your eyes.

"What time is it?"

"Almost 3..why?"

"No nap. I'll never sleep tonight, and you know how grumpy I get when my sleep schedule is thrown off." Even with your declaration of not wanting a nap, you can't help but rub your eyes, a weak attempt to keep yourself awake. Any resolve Harry had to try to convince you to nap melts away. A smirk on his face, he knows you'll eventually crash later, most likely on his chest or in his arms. He's content to let you be stubborn for now.

"Okay, then. New plan. Pajamas, meds, movie. Better?"

"Better. You get everything ready and pick the movie while I change?"

"You don't wanna pick the movie?"

You wave him off, already shuffling towards the bedroom, "You're the boss today, remember?"

You take your time gathering what you need to get cozy for the rest of the day, selecting an oversized, well-worn tie dye t-shirt and leggings from your dresser. You even take a moment to dip into Harry's extensive sweatshirt collection, grabbing your favorite one. It's amazingly soft and still smells of him, a faint scent of his cologne and well..just Harry. You couldn't imagine anything more comforting.

In your pursuit to feel more lucid, you venture into the bathroom, taking a moment to wash your face. The cool water instantly refreshes you and pushes you closer to feeling like yourself again. Wanting your hair out of your face, you pluck a scrunchy from your shared collection of hair accessories. You quickly recognize that your arms still have that too heavy feeling of unconsciousness and after a few attempts to gather your curls into some sort of up-do, you give up and loop the accessory around your wrist to try again later.

Harry senses your frustration when you find him in the kitchen, two small green pill bottles sitting on the counter in front of him. He's already filled your favorite cup with ice water, and you gratefully take it and drink from it.

"What's wrong?" His brow creases with concern and you feel guilty for making him worry over something so silly.

"Nothing..just wanted my hair up out of my face but my arms wouldn't cooperate." You try to laugh it off to put him more at ease, "It's not a big deal."

You know it's only the weariness of the day still making you feel so emotional, clear-headed you would not be upset over something so small.

"Here. Let me try." He slides the scrunchy from your wrist and pulls you closer to him, moving behind you to gently work long fingers through your hair, gathering it all in a loose ponytail on top of your head before securing it around a few times with the scrunchy.

You let your shoulders drop with a deep sigh when he's done, it was such a simple thing, but it made you feel so much lighter. He spins you around to face him, a charming gleam of pride at his handiwork adorning his face, "Too tight?"

"No. Much better. Thank you, Harry. You take such good care of me always, but today..I don't know what I would've done without you. I made such a big fuss and probably made you miserable with all of my worrying." You're suddenly very aware that you are rambling, but when you catch a glimpse of his face, his smile is wide. So bright that the skin around his eyes is crinkling.

He leans towards you, lips stopping whatever words may have come next, arms wrapping around you to pull you closer in a soft, warm embrace. When he pulls away, his eyes bore right into yours, and your heart swells with more love than you could ever imagine having for one person. But he wasn't just any person. He was your person, your whole word staring back at you.

"I'm SO proud of you. You've been so strong today, always knew you had that strength in you, but seeing you take that leap of faith..doing something you knew you should despite your fear, that's all you, love. I can't take any credit for that. You've made me anything but miserable, trust me."

His face is still close enough to yours that you nudge forward, pressing your forehead to his, a silent appreciation of his affection.

"Any pain yet?" He pulls back, a thumb across your cheek, eyes still locked on yours.

"My head kind of hurts? And I still just feel kind of..drunk."

"You have always been a bit of a lightweight, babe. And a thief too, I see. S'that my sweatshirt?"

"Have not!" You swat playfully at his arm, "Maybe. Is that my hair clip in your hair?"

"Possibly." His eyes dart up to the swoop of curls on top of his head, a black plastic clip twisting it back and away from his face.

"Guess we're even then."

"S'pose we are." He tries to keep his eyes narrowed in a mock attempt of annoyance, but it quickly fades into laughter.

You decide against FaceTiming your family, hoping that hearing your voice will be enough. It seems to satisfy them at least for the rest of the day. You assure them that Harry is taking very good care of you and that everything went as smooth as could be expected.

He raises one eyebrow at you as you hang up, "As smooth as expected, huh? You aren't going to tell them the truth?"

"What's to tell? I had an infection and now it's gone. I'm fine, there's no sense in worrying them. We can give them the full story later."

He shrugs, fingers working to open one of the green pill bottles before passing one of the white pills to you, "For your headache, lovie. There's something here for nausea too if you need it. M'worried the pizza might've been too much. Maybe you should take one of these..just in case?"

"Harry, I promise I will tell you if I feel anything other than fine." Your hand runs from his shoulder down his bicep, squeezing gently, "Besides, I cannot take a whole one of those. If you think I'm a lightweight now..I'll sleep for the whole week if I take that."

He slips the bottle in his pocket, pulling you in to press a kiss to the top of your head, "We'll keep it close just in case, okay?"

"Sounds good," Your hand trails back up to his neck to work fingers through his hair, "Hey, thought we were watching a movie? What'd you pick?"

"Thought we could decide together. C'mon, let's get you comfy in bed."

"Ever the gentleman, always trying to get me in your bed."

"Hey! I am a perfect gentleman, thank you very much," He chuckles, a hand coming to rest on the small of your back, "Just thought you'd be more comfortable, you can prop up and stretch your feet out."

You let him tug you along for the second time today, thankful it's the luxury of your shared bed you get to settle into this time. He tucks you in softly, propping pillows behind your back and head.

"Comfy? Need anything else?"

"No, just need you to quit babying me so much and relax with me for a bit."

"Since when am I not allowed to baby you?"

You roll your eyes, "Never said you weren't allowed. Just want you to stop worrying so much, that's all."

"Good. Cause y'are my baby," No matter how many times you'd heard him say it before, it never failed to make you blush, "Do anything for you, y'know that, right?"

"I know," You look down at your hands, trying to slow your racing heart, "You never let me forget."

"Hey," He pokes your cheek, pulling your gaze back up to him, "I love you."

"I love you more, H."

He kisses your forehead, "Impossible. I love you most."

The reference to one of your favorite movies has you smiling at him, that dreamy feeling falling over you again, "Can we watch Tangled?"

"Sure, princess."

He sinks next to you, head propped up on your shoulder, navigating easily through Disney+ to find your requested movie.

Your eyes drift closed right about the time the lanterns are being released in the sky, a moment that normally leaves your face wet with tears, the soft vibrations of Harry humming along the perfect lullaby to push you further into your dream.

He wakes you later in the evening.

"Dinner's on the table if you want to join me."

"Time's it?" Your voice is still heavy with sleep.

"7. You were sleeping so deeply I didn't want to wake you, thought your body could use the extra sleep today."

"Yeah. It was nice, thank you." You stretch your arms forward, reaching for his hands to help pull you up.

"How do you feel?"

"A little sore. More sober, for sure."

Dinner is simple; a bowl of plain broth, salad, and toast. Exactly what the nurse suggested earlier. There's even a warm mug of tea waiting for you.

"With honey for my honey," He's so proud of his cheesy expression of love you cannot help but smile.

You look at him curiously when he sits next to you, the same boring meal set out for himself.

"Harry..you can eat what you want, babe. Seriously you've done enough today, more than enough to be supportive. It wouldn't hurt my feelings if you made yourself something different."

"Nah. S'fine. We're in this together, yeah?"

You raise your eyebrows at him playfully, "Did you have an organ snatched from your body today?"

"No, I didn't." He laughs, "I just meant food wise, love. It's vegetable broth, by the way, hope that's alright."

"It's perfect."

You nudge him lightly, an elbow to his side, shifting closer to ask for a kiss. He meets you the rest of the way, lips planted firmly on yours. When you don't pull away, he quickly adds another.

After dinner is done and you have another round of meds, the two of you end up in an awkward ball of cuddles on the couch. Harry flips through the channels on the tv before finding a show you both agree on.

But you're too restless, unable to find a position comfortable enough for you. You shift a few times, finally giving up and letting out a frustrated groan before tossing the blanket off the both of you and springing up and off the couch.

Harry doesn't panic, just grabs your hand before you can get too far away or lose your balance, keeping his voice low when he asks, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing hurts. I just can't get comfortable, and I don't feel right."

"What doesn't feel right, angel? Explain."

"I don't feel like myself. I don't know how to explain it. Just feel off."

He sees you're on the verge of tears and ascends from his spot on the couch, arms quickly enveloping you before placing a finger under your chin to pull your face up to look at him.

"It's probably gonna take a day or so to adjust, baby. Yes it was a minor surgery but it was a major change to your body." He's bending now to look right into your eyes, searching them, "How can we fix it tonight, hmm? What do you need?"

Tears are free flowing, falling on the front of your t-shirt and down to the floor.

"Take your time. Breathe." A large hand smoothing warm circles firmly across your back; a balm for your restless spirit.

You pause, deep breath in before slowly letting it out, "I think I just need to move around for a bit."

"Let's go for a walk, eh? A quick one and then back to bed. Your mind needs more rest. How's that sound?" He taps your forehead softly.

"Okay, yeah." You nod your head, an approval of his plan.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Everything's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."

You nod again, scared your voice will break if you try to speak. He knew that those words held a lot of weight for you, he'd repeated them often throughout this whole process and to hear them now was a reminder of how safe you were. That with him, you would always be safe and loved.

Being dark outside meant you gracelessly padding through the house, up and down the hallway a few times and back to the living room. Harry stays close, encouraging you along with little claps and kisses to motivate you. When your stomach starts to feel uneasy, he urges you once again to take something for nausea. You agree to take a half a pill, knowing it'll help you sleep.

Despite the nap you had earlier and only being awake for a couple of hours, it doesn't take much convincing for you to settle back into bed.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

He's already reclined next to you, book in hand, the soft light from the lamp illuminating one side of his face. You're smushed against him, drifting between that sweet space of almost asleep and wanting to stay awake to enjoy any spare moment you get with him. His hand working through your hair helps push you towards the former of the two.

"I'm sorry to be such a burden today," Your words are slurring together but you continue on, just needing to get your thoughts out before he can stop you, "I don't deserve you and I shouldn't have overreacted so much about something so simple."

"Hey, none of that now," He lays the book on the nightstand, careful to save his place for later before pulling you closer to him, "You were not, nor have you ever been a burden to me. Just because you needed a little extra help today does not mean you aren't deserving of me or my love. You will never have to earn that. It's yours, always has been, will be as long as you decide to keep me around."

"Thank you. For all of it. I'll always want you."

"Always? Y'might change your mind someday, angel."

"I won't. Promise."

"Yeah? Me either."

A kiss laid delicately to the top of your head has your eyes dangerously close to falling shut again before another thought navigates its way through your mind and out of your mouth before you can stop it.

"H..what am I gonna do with a full week off from work?"

"Let me take care of you?"

And that's exactly what he does.

Mornings spent sleeping in, late breakfasts made together and afternoon walks. Evenings consisting of the two of you preparing dinner together or ordering takeout from some of the forbidden places you couldn't eat from before. Mugs of herbal tea before early bedtimes, you sweetly falling asleep to the sound of his voice reading to you most nights.

But his favorite part was that the scent of lavender was no longer cursed for you. Some nights before your surgery, when you simply could not fall asleep the pain was so unbearable, you would fill the tub with hot water and lavender scented bubbles to try to calm yourself enough to be able to drift off afterwards. It never worked, the heat always doing more harm than good. Harry would always be waiting for you, open arms and a soft towel to wrap you in.

So the smell became one you hated, memories of sleepless nights and nausea. But now you were free to use it again for what you always loved it for before it was cursed. In your body wash, lotion, even your laundry detergent; spreading the scent all over your shared space in as many ways as you could.

He even mentions it one night after dinner, when the two of you are pressed impossibly close together on the couch. His nose buried into your neck, inhaling deeply, pulling away to announce, "You smell like you again, love. Missed it so much." He burrows back in, placing kisses from your neck to your shoulder, ignoring your giggles and protests of how much it tickles.

A week later, the alarm wakes you sooner than you've become accustomed to, reminding you of your return to work. Harry's arm thrown over your waist pulls you closer as you try to leave the bed, a sleepy "Don't go." mumbled in your ear.

You do your best to peel yourself away from him, admitting silently to yourself how much harder it is for you to leave the warmth of your bed as it is for him to let you go.

2 years later, you have a scar you swear didn't heal right, and a man who loves you even more because of it.

#harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing #so happy this is finally done and being posted!#soooooo many times I almost just deleted it bc I didn't know how to feel about it #but anyway hope y'all enjoy!

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drabbles-mc · 4 years ago

Text

Catching Feelings

Bishop Losa x Reader

Request from my fave @masterlistforimagines: the classic friends with benefits, but someone caught feelings trope for Bish

Warnings: light angst, language

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: I didn’t turn this into a smutty request solely because I got super wrapped up in Bish’s feelings haha. Hope y’all enjoy! xo

Bish Taglist: @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @queenbeered @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter (If you want to be tagged in any of my writing please let me know!)

You were shimmying back into your jeans, trying to pretend that you didn’t feel Bishop’s eyes on you. It was late, and you had an early morning coming up. The thought of prolonging your stay a little bit was tempting, but you knew that you’d pay for it once your alarm went off in the morning. Bishop was lying on the bed, chin resting in the palm of his hand. You did your best not to look at him for too long because you knew that if you did, it would be too easy to talk you into staying.

“You could just stay here, you know,” he offered up with a smile.

You chuckled and shook your head. It wouldn’t have been the first time you stayed over, and if you didn’t have plans the next day you might’ve. “Not tonight, Bish.”

“Suit yourself,” there was a smug grin on his face as he watched you pull a shirt on over your head.

“Can’t make it too easy on you, can I? Takes all the fun out of it,” you winked, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You blew him a kiss before heading out of the bedroom and leaving the house.

He listened intently for the sound of your car starting. When the sound of the engine faded away, he let out a sigh. He sat upright, running his hands down his face. For someone who had thought that the idea of friends with benefits was childish and that he was too old for it, he wasn’t able to say no to you when you had pitched the idea. You both had busy lives that didn’t make it easy to have romantic relationships, and there was no denying the comfort and attraction that was there between the two of you, so it just seemed to make sense.

You weren’t sober when you finally blurted out the idea to him. The two of you were staying late at the clubhouse together one night after a rough couple of days, burning through beer bottles faster than you should’ve been. He’d been flirting with you all night, but that wasn’t something out of the ordinary, and you certainly weren’t the only woman he was flirtatious with. But you noticed that when women tried to push it any farther, he would send them off. He’d do it nicely, but he would make sure they didn’t overstay their welcome.

“How do you not have someone down on lock yet, Bish?” you laughed as you sipped on your beer.

He smiled, shaking his head at you from across the table, “I guess you could say that I am not the easiest man to be with, Y/N.”

“Alright fair. But you never even give these girls a chance to, you know,” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively, “relieve some of your tension.”

He laughed, “I’m in no position to be having a string of one-night stands. I leave that to the young bucks patching in. They’re young and stupid enough to think it’s a good idea.”

“Hm,” you thought about your response for a moment, “What about a fuck-buddy?”

He raised an eyebrow, “A what?”

You laughed, playfully nudging his shoulder, “You know, a friend with benefits. No strings attached kind of deal, just sex. You get the consistency of one person so you don’t need to worry about getting tested for something every couple of weeks,” you laughed, “Plus, it’ll be with someone that you can actually stand to hang out with once you’re done fucking. Win-win for everybody.”

His eyes searched yours, trying to figure out what your end-goal was with this conversation, “I’m not in my twenties anymore, Y/N. I think I’ve aged out of the friends with benefits category.”

You smirked, slowly running your foot up his leg underneath the table, “I beg to differ.”

And the rest was history. It’d been a few months since that first night and things had been going smoothly. The two of you kept your business private since he was the president of the MC, but you knew that the guys had their assumptions. Neither you nor Bishop ever commented one way or another when they would try to bring it up. You liked the sense of mystery, and the fact that it felt a little bit like a game at times. You’d push boundaries with him every now and then, just to see how worked up you’d be able to get him at the clubhouse without anyone noticing. And for a man who said that he was too old to be friends with benefits, he sure seemed to be benefiting a lot.

His mind raced with the events of the past few months. At first, he was certain that surely it couldn’t be that simple, that the two of you could remain friends and just have sex with each other when it was convenient. But that was exactly what had been happening, and you hadn’t changed the way you treated him at all. He was still your friend, and someone that you valued and respected, but never once throughout the course of the weeks of late-night and post-run rendezvous had you ever tried to pressure him into something more. He was impressed that you were able to compartmentalize so well.

He just wished that he was able to do the same thing.

As the days continued to tick by, he realized that maybe he wasn’t cut out to do the whole friends with benefits thing, but not because it was only something that young people did. He began to think that maybe he couldn’t handle it because the more time that he spent with you, the more times that he got to hold you and kiss you and make you tremble underneath his touch, the more he realized that he didn’t want to just be your friend. He didn’t want to admit it, but he knew that he was starting to have feelings for you. There were times in the morning when he’d see you getting dressed and all he could think about was how nice it would be if he got to be with you every morning while you got ready for work, and you’d be there for him every night when he came home after dealing with the club and all the chaos it brought him. His mind would wander off with thoughts of what it would be like to really be with you, to finally settle down, and it was getting harder and harder to pull himself out of those thoughts.

He stared at his phone screen, waiting for your text letting him know that you had gotten home safe. You didn’t live terribly far, but he still wanted to know that you made it okay. He smiled when your name lit up his phone screen, “I’m home. You can go to sleep now”. He smiled as he typed out his reply, “Thank you. Got plans tomorrow night?”

A few minutes passed before your reply came, “Why? Miss me already?”

He paused for a moment, trying to really think out his reply. He was second-guessing everything he said, not wanting to lose you, “Something like that, yea”

“I’ll see if I can clear my schedule for you”

He smiled, deciding to leave it at that. He set his phone off to the side and rolled so that he was staring up at the ceiling. He wondered if you were just really good at pretending that you weren’t starting to develop feelings for him too. When the two of you agreed to this whole arrangement, he worried at first that you had suggested it because you already were falling for him. Now he was thinking that maybe he let his ego get to him a little bit by thinking that and it was coming back to bite him. He sighed, shaking his head at himself as he tried to force himself to go to sleep without dwelling on the fact that his bed felt empty without you in it.

You stopped by the clubhouse after work the next day to see him for a few minutes. He was seated outside on the deck and you plopped down across from him with a smile, “Presidente.”

He smiled at you, “Y/N, didn’t think I’d see you here.”

You laughed, “I told you I’d see if I could clear my schedule for you.”

“Weren’t sure if you were going to be able to follow through,” he watched as you reached across the table and took his beer, taking a sip from the bottle with a smirk on your face.

“I’ll always find a way to make time for you, Obispo,” you gave him his beer back.

He looked at you and he felt his heart pound harder inside his chest. The two of you had agreed that if one of you became uncomfortable with anything about your situation, you’d both back off with no questions asked. He wondered if he should cash in on that clause, but he didn’t want to give up the closeness he got to have with you.

“I actually meant to reach out to you earlier,” he hated the words even as he was saying them, “Some shit came up with the club. Got some stuff we need to handle tonight.”

“Oh,” you’d been looking forward to seeing him again, but you knew that this exact situation was why the two of you had gotten into things in the first place, “okay. Raincheck?”

He nodded, “Yea. Sorry to bail on you.”

You chuckled and shook your head, “No need to apologize,” you stood up from the table and patted his back as you walked behind him, “I’m not your girlfriend, Bish. You don’t have to explain anything to me. Not like you owe me anything,” you leaned down and kissed his temple, “You and the boys be safe out there. Text me when you get home so I know you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere, alright?”

A small smile crossed his face for a moment, “Alright.”

He watched as you sauntered off and hopped in your car, driving off without giving it another thought. He hated lying to you, but he thought that maybe if he gave him a few days to cool off and get his mind in order, the feelings would go away too. Maybe he was just thinking too far into it. He hoped he wouldn’t be forced to give you up.

A few days passed and you hadn’t heard much from him. You were a little hurt at first, but then you remembered who you were dealing with. He had bigger problems on his plate than budgeting in time to sneak off and hook up with you. It was a little odd only because up until then you two had managed to make things work well and see each other frequently. But it was practically radio silence on his end. You’d text him a couple times a day to make sure he was alright, and his responses were short. You tried to think if you had something to him that would upset him, but nothing was coming to mind.

You parked your car and made your way over to the office, hoping that Chucky would be there and know where the guys were. Bishop had blamed his curtness and inability to see you on club shit, and you were starting to question just how honest he was being with you about it all.

Chucky’s face lit up when you walked into the office, “Y/N, what a pleasure it is to see you.”

You smiled, “Pleasure’s all mine, Chucky,” you drummed your fingers on the counter, “Bishop around?”

“El Presidente?” he nodded, “I believe they had Templo. Might be done by now, though.”

“Thank you. Stay handsome,” you shot him a wink as you walked out of the office and made your way to the clubhouse.

You walked in, scanning over the room to see where everyone was at. Sure enough, you saw Bishop sat at the table with Hank and Taza. The three of them seemed awfully relaxed for a group of men who had apparently been incredibly wrapped up in stressful club shit for the past week. You walked over to the table with a smile, not wanting to make things weird.

“Hey boys,” you rested one hand on Bishop’s shoulder.

“Y/N,” Taza offered you a warm smile, “good to see you. We’ve missed you lately.”

You chuckled, wishing you could see what Bishop’s face looked like, “Yea, sorry, just been a little crazy on my end lately,” you tapped your fingers onto Bishop’s shoulder, “Can I borrow you for a second, Pres? Something I need to talk to you about.”

He cleared his throat, and you could feel his body tense underneath your hand, “Uh, yea, of course,” he stood up and nodded towards Templo, “This way.”

You flashed the other two men a smile and a wave before walking towards the back room, Bishop right on your heels. He slid the door shut behind him and did his best to avoid making direct eye contact with you as the both of you stood there.

“So,” you leaned back against the table, “how are things?”

“Things are…fine,” his eyes were glued to the ground.

“Oh? Are they? I wouldn’t know. I’ve hardly heard from you in a week.”

“You said it yourself—I don’t owe you anything.”

You scoffed and shook your head, “What the fuck is your problem?”

“What? I thought this was supposed to be no strings attached.”

“Yea, but you’re still my friend. Even before we started hooking up I at least felt like I could have a conversation with you that didn’t feel like I was pulling your fucking teeth,” you waited for him to finally look you in the eyes, “Did I do something? If you don’t wanna hook up with me anymore just say it. Don’t try to ice me out—I deserve better than that. I told you from the jump that we could go back to being friends with no questions asked. I’m not gonna hold it against you if you’re over this whole thing.”

He saw the look on your face and he knew that you meant every word that you said, and it hurt. He didn’t want to admit it, but he didn’t want you to be able to give him up that easily.

After a long minute of silence you spoke up again, “Be real with me, Obispo. Do you still want this?”

He shook his head, “No.”

It stung, but you weren’t going to go back on your promise—you weren’t going to hold it against him, “Alright. That’s all you had to say. We good? I don’t want shit to be weird from here on out,” there was another long stretch of silence and you could feel the frustration bubbling up inside you. you had assumed that Bishop would be able to be a little more mature about the whole thing, especially since he was the one who was breaking it off, but apparently you were wrong. Men really didn’t mature more as they got older. You shook your head, “Fuck, Bish. I really thought that we were going to be able to be adults about this. Sorry I bothered.”

You turned on your heel and made your way towards the door. Before you could grab onto it and slide it open, he finally forced himself to speak up, “Hey, wait.”

You turned with a sigh, “What?”

“I can’t do this.”

“Yea, you made that pretty fucking clear already.”

“No,” he closed the space between you and you could feel the heat radiating off of him, “I mean, I can’t do this with no strings attached. I thought that I could. Honestly, I thought that you were going to be the one that got wrapped up in your feelings.”

You smirked, “Cocky, but continue.”

It got him to smile a little bit, “But I could see it in your eyes that you were true to your word. You were completely detached from everything between us. And I was too, at first. But, fuck, Y/N, somewhere along the way I stopped caring about just the sex. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. But the way I felt when I would see that you were calling me, or when I would hear you walk through my front door when you knew I’d gotten home from a run? I knew that had nothing to do with friendship, or sex. And the way I hated every time you’d get dressed and leave and I knew that you were going back to your own empty bed while I was lying in mine drove me insane. I hate it,” he took a deep breath, “I wasn’t ready to give you up. If the only way for me to have you was like this, then I was willing to do that. But it kills me to know that I want more, and you are content with what we have.”

He threw a lot at you all at once, and your brain was still trying to process it all. The idea of being in a relationship with Bishop had crossed your mind on numerous occasions. You never let it linger though, not when you knew what kind of life he led and the kind of man he was. If you thought that he would’ve been game for a relationship right out the gate you would’ve said something. This was a development that you hadn’t seen coming. The only reason you didn’t get twisted up about your arrangement was because in your mind, there was no alternative. You were either friends who were having sex, or you were just friends. There was never anything on the other side of the spectrum, or at least that’s what you had thought.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you finally asked.

“I am now.”

“Obispo, listen, I don’t think there’s anyone in the world that I respect more than you. You’re my best friend, and these past few months have been insanely fun. I’ve loved being able to spend so much time with you. I like who I am when I’m with you. If you wanted something more you should’ve just said something—we’re both adults. I’d like to think that we could handle that conversation.”

“I didn’t want you to shut me out if you didn’t feel the same way.”

“You really think I’d do that?”

He paused, shaking his head, “No.”

You cupped his face in your hands, “So, what exactly do you want from me, Obispo?”

He rested his hands on top of yours, “I want you to give me a chance to really be your man. All the time, not just on late nights and weekends,” he scooped you up so that your legs were wrapped around his waist as he held you up, “Could you do that for me?”

You laughed, nodding as your hands rested on the back of his neck, “I think I could do that.”

He walked over and set you down on the edge of the table. You unhooked your legs from around him so that he was now standing between them. He leaned in and brought your lips to his. The kiss was soft but still needy, and in that moment you wondered how you hadn’t seen this coming all along.

He rested his forehead against yours, “I don’t think I’d ever be able to give you up.”

You smiled, reveling in the feeling of his hands on your waist, “I don’t think I’d ever ask you to.”

You felt him laugh quietly as he nuzzled his face into the side of your neck. You smiled, biting back a giggle as his beard tickled your neck. He kissed your throat gently as he leaned into you. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in close to you, one hand resting gently on the back of his head. A smile crept across your face as you felt him let out a long, relieved sigh as he ran his hands up and down your back.

“Can we go back to your place?” you said after a few minutes of silence between you.

He pulled back and looked at you with a smile, “I’d like that.”

You leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, “I’ll even spend the night this time.”

He chuckled, “Oh yea?”

You hopped down off the table and tugged him towards the door, “Yes. You’re in for a long night, Obispo.”

He shook his head with a smile, “I don’t doubt it.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #obispo losa #bishop losa #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #bishop losa angst #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa imagine #my writing #drabblesmc #fanfiction

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moved-to-void-kissed · 4 years ago

Text

Secrets in the Springs

Document link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1WDYCocrod_P7bcyH9DIaacjpIXv9I8r-UEkdmWANdxw/edit?usp=sharing

Sapphire, Pyra, Mythra, Nia and Poppi spend an evening relaxing together in Mor Ardain’s famous hot springs, where a couple of secrets begin to reveal themselves. In the process, Pyra makes an important decision. (1650 words) Replaces the XC2 cutscene “Secret in the Springs” from the start of Chapter 4. Content warning for some description of an old significant physical injury.

This is a piece I originally posted to my old blog, but I’ve updated it slightly to reflect some changes to the storyline and figured it would be good to post again! Don’t worry, it’s mostly much happier than the previous writing I posted here - especially once you get to the end, hehe~

Reblogs are appreciated, but by no means required! Comments should be on, and there’s also a transcript of the document under the readmore!

The sandstorms from earlier in the day had thankfully settled down - the evening was still very warm, but a soft wind drifting through Alba Cavanich made the heat much more pleasant. Behind the inn that rested on Smùide Mountain, the group had taken the opportunity to relax in the local hot springs - Rex and Tora had gone earlier in the evening and appeared much more refreshed for the experience, but now it was the ladies’ bathing slot, and all of them were eager to spend the evening enjoying a relaxing bath together.

Sapphire in particular was not used to the arid conditions on Mor Ardain’s Titan, given that her homeland within Uraya was a much more subdued and watery kingdom, so she also relished the opportunity to try out the hot springs. By the time she had gotten ready, Poppi was already happily playing about in the springs, while Nia had her back to the entrance and only her head was above the water. Finally, Sapphire tentatively poked her head around the corner of the changing room, so that it was all that could be seen from within the baths themselves.

“It’s just us here, right?”

“Yeah, don’t worry!” Nia turned her head to smile, though Sapphire did think she looked somewhat nervous. “The inn seemed pretty much empty when we first got here, so I don’t reckon anyone else’ll be coming in.”

Poppi nodded in agreement. “Probability of interruption from other people very small. Therefore, is perfect time for all to enjoy springs together. The water very nice temperature, even for Poppi!”

“Hang on.. Should you even be in the bath?” Nia had turned back to face the mechanical girl, and was now looking at her with a tilted head to show confusion. “Won’t you rust or something?”

In response, Poppi shook her head and kept smiling, eyes bright as ever. “There no problem. Poppi made from special alloy. No rust or need for oil!” The faint orange glow of her leg joints was visible even through the water, showing that she was kicking them back and forth in her usual manner.

Sapphire smiled at this, only to then jump when she realised Pyra was standing right behind her. Except it wasn’t Pyra - where she expected to see kind red eyes instead lay cold golden ones, and the familiar short bob of red hair was replaced by flowing blonde strands.

“Wh- Mythra?!”

“Yeah?” She looked unamused.

“Sorry, mate, you really startled me there!”

Wanting to give Mythra some space, Sapphire stepped out from behind the entrance to the changing room into the proper springs area, prompting Poppi to look surprised and Nia to turn around because of that. Although she still had a towel around her body, the other girls could now all see several swathes of what looked like very old grazes on Sapphire’s arms and the backs of her legs. They seemed to have healed, yet still appeared somewhat serious.

“Wait, what happened to you?!” Mythra was first to speak up, sounding more worried than she ever really had. Her usual short temper still shone through, however - she seemed almost annoyed for not noticing the injuries beforehand.

“Oh, these?” Sapphire raised her arms halfheartedly, looking somewhat embarrassed. “Don’t worry. These are just left over from.. how I got to Uraya. Don’t worry, most of it’s all healed up by now. So nothing’s going to mess up the water or anything, I promise.”

There was a silence.

“..I guess I never told you guys about that, huh.”

“No, you didn’t. Not that I was awake for, anyway.” said Mythra.

“You don’t ‘ave to tell us if you don’t want to, though.” Nia added. “Only share what you’re comfortable with.”

Sapphire nodded. “Thanks, Nia. Um.. this isn’t exactly the place to go all in-depth about that kind of thing, so, ah.. I’ll just say that, from what I know, my parents and I were on a ship crossing the Cloud Sea when it capsized and got washed into Uraya’s Titan. A bit like you guys did, I guess, though there was.. a lot more of an impact. Honestly, I don’t even know how I managed to stick around long enough for Dad and his mercs to find me on one of their checkups.”

“Oh.. Are you sure you’re okay? That must have been hard..” continued Mythra, still looking worried. There was a flash of glowing energy, and suddenly Pyra was stood in her place, looking even more concerned.

“I’m so sorry for what happened to you, Sapphire! Nobody should have to go through such a horrible thing..”

“Pyra, please, I’m fine! It’s okay!” Sapphire said, a little too suddenly - quickly realising her mistake, she hastily tried to recover: “I- I really appreciate that you care so much, but, I promise I’m fine. Come on, let’s just enjoy the springs together.”

As she turned around to put her towel on the rocks behind her before lowering herself into the blissfully warm water, the true extent of Sapphire’s injuries became clearer - the old grazes were nothing in comparison to the massive streak of half-healed scar tissue covering most of her back and shoulders. Parts of it seemed to somehow reflect the low light from the torches and the glow of Poppi and Pyra’s Core Crystals, as if there were tiny specks of something shiny in there.

Nia’s worried expression had returned. “Saph, that really doesn’t look good.. You sure you’re alright?”

“Yes!” She still seemed slightly on-edge, but being in the water was clearly very relaxing for her. “I already said, it doesn’t really hurt. I’ve had all this for as long as I can remember; it’s just how I am. Trust me, it was a lot worse when I was little.”

“Poppi worried about Sapphire..” said Poppi, sounding sad. The stillness of the water and the glowing lights visible under its surface showed that she wasn’t playing about anymore.

“Aww, it’s okay, Poppi!” Sapphire turned and smiled at her again. “I’m fine, honestly!”

Pyra still wasn’t convinced. “You’d tell us if you weren’t, though, right..?” She crouched down at the side of the water and reached over to take Sapphire’s hand in her own.

“Of course I would, silly. Come on in, the water is amazing..”

This made Pyra feel more at ease, and she happily took the chance to sit next to Sapphire, who in turn was all the more grateful to be able to enjoy Pyra’s natural warmth in close proximity. Another silence then settled, though this one was much more natural, and the girls were able to take the time to properly enjoy the heat of the water and relax in the hot springs.

Eventually, never the quiet one, Poppi had something to say.

“Poppi has question for Nia.”

“Huh?”

“Why does Nia have-?” The artificial Blade’s inquisitive tone was quickly interrupted by none other than Nia herself, who at this point was almost entirely submerged in the water.

“Oh, I know what you’re gonna say, I think. Don’t- don’t worry about it.”

At this point, Mythra returned, automatically shifting away from Sapphire as she turned to face Nia herself. “I had noticed, too. It’s true, then, that you’re..?” She trailed off, not knowing how to properly word her own question.

“Mmm.. yeah.”

Mythra nodded. “Do you want us to keep it a secret?”

“I was.. a little bit embarrassed about all this, but.. Yeah, if you could, that’d be grand. Not like I could hide it here when it’s this dark, anyway. As long as you guys are all okay with me being here, then-”

“Of course, mate!” “Poppi is fine!” “Why wouldn’t we?”

The chorus of reassuring voices brought her an incredible comfort.

“Thanks, guys.”

==========

Later that evening, once everyone had retired to their rooms for the night, Mythra noticed within herself that Pyra seemed nervous.

“Something wrong?”

“What? No! I mean.. We share memories, so you’d know if something was wrong, surely?”

“I guess that’s true. But, you seemed like you were coming to a decision of some kind. And I mean, I don’t really wanna pry if I don’t have to.”

“Haha, thank you for that.. And, you’re right about the decision. So, um, Mythra - what do you think about Sapphire?”

“Uh.. she seems pretty nice? But she isn’t someone you want to make angry, given how mad she was at Malos and Akhos. I wasn’t awake yet for all that time you two spent journeying through Uraya, so this was kind of the first time I’ve gotten to interact with her properly. I can’t say I was expecting you to get into a relationship, but.. You two make a good fit for each other, even if she is a little more energetic than you tend to be.”

“You really think so?”

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re right.. Sorry!”

“Why’d you ask that, anyway?”

“Well, it’s just, um.. It was so great for me to know that she’d be able to come with us after we left Uraya. I know she’s probably still worried about Vandham, but.. if his injuries have really been patched up as well as they seemed to, then he should recover without too much of a problem, right?”

“Yeah, Nia said Dromarch was able to get him stable once I took Obrona out and the ether came back.”

“Right, that was it. And, um.. Since we’ve been here in Mor Ardain, I’ve been thinking about something, and.. after that time we all spent together tonight, and being around her like that, I think I’ve figured it out. Sapphire is the person I really want to be with, for the rest of my life. ..However much longer that even ends up being.

I have no idea how I’m going to go about it, but..

I think I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

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fanficparker · 4 years ago

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Hey! Can I request for a Haz x shy!reader where they go to his house to meet his family and she is all nervous or probably makes a mistake and is like, “your family must hate me now” and Haz comforts her? asasjajskkssjsk

LOVE SO SOFT // H.O.

Boyfriend!Harrison Osterfield x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.7k words

Warnings: A little bit of blood, minor injury, anxious reader, loads of FLUFF, hurt/comfort

A/N: I made it a complete one-shot, haha. Hope, you like it :)

Summary: It starts on a crisp winter morning with a rose. It continues on a lazy summer afternoon with a bouquet. It doesn’t end on a pouring monsoon evening even with those three magic words.

Sometimes the thing you are searching the most in your life, never comes to you, no matter how hard you try to find it. But when you finally give up and stop searching for it, it may just right there, find you itself.

That thing was love in the case of Harrison.

IT HAPPENED ON ONE COLD CRISP MORNING. He was brisk walking on the pavement, enjoying the cool wind hitting his face when he was stopped by a little "Excuse me!"

He stopped and plugged the earphones out of his ears, turning to find a woman around his age, holding a piece of paper in her hand.

"Yeah?" He asked, shifting her eyes from the paper to his face.

"Er..." She walked closer. He could sense a brief hesitation in her movement, nevertheless, she stood in front of him, speaking - "Do you have any idea where this (she read out from the paper) Mi-Michi and Mavey's Bookstore is?"

The name seemed familiar to his ears. Before he could think any further, she interrupted him: "It's near some Burger shop... I forgot its name."

The bells rang this time.

"Yeah... It on the opposite side of the post office to the left!"

Oh, of course, she didn't know where that was either. He could tell by her expressions. She must be new here.

"Thank you." She smiled, though. He could again read the hesitation in her voice and movements. She was moving away from him, walking towards the wrong direction, away from the bookstore, from the post office. And that's when he offered to walk her there.

He wasn't looking out for anything that day. He wasn't looking out to talk to her. To notice the slight smile on her lips, or the great complimenting colour outfit she was wearing. Or the way she hid her embarrassment over small things. Or the rose she gave him either.

The rose.

Yes, it was the rose that did it all.

He wasn't expecting anything more than a thank you. And definitely nothing like a flower, a rose specifically.

When they stopped outside the bookstore, she did say thank you, but she also fiddled inside the handbag she was carrying. She plucked out a pink rose and handed it to him. He couldn't deny it because he never had learned to expect it in the first place.

Someone just gave him a rose. Someone he didn't even know the name of.

"Wait... What's your name?"

But she had got inside the bookstore and he had some urgent errands to run.

There was a shop tag attached to that rose. He could read it. He knew where to find her again. He did find her again.

And then again and again...

IT HAPPENED ON ONE HOT LAZY AFTERNOON. He had brought a red rose bouquet for her. How stupid it can be? After all, she worked here in a flower shop.

"You know this a flower shop, right?" She leaned across the counter, biting her lip.

"Yup, but this is not for you." He smirked while her face grew panicky.

"Tis' for my girlfriend..." He whispered, pecking at the base of the bouquet.

Not for her... She tried to push away the feeling of her heart ripping apart inside her rib cage.

It was okay; she told herself. She wasn't expecting him to fall in love for her like the way she did for him.

It was okay. She tried to smile.

"Oh... Th-that's great!" She showed some fake enthusiasm.

It was okay.

"I-I will like to meet her someday."

He noticed the hesitation again. But this time he wanted that. He watched her as she pretended, pretended to not care, to be happy for him.

It was too much.

"You can take that spot though and get these for yourself..." He sucked in a deep breath, "Be my girlfriend."

They kissed that day at the back of the shop in that narrow alleyway, slowly and passionately. Softly and hesitantly. Shyly and confidently.

They kissed again.

And then again and again...

IT HAPPENED ON ONE POURING MONSOON EVENING. He invited her to meet his family. She hesitated again. He had held her hand, not wanting to let go.

"Please... They will love you."

She still hesitated, not wanting to meet just yet. She was ready before they actually stepped on the front porch. She literally spent two hours getting ready. But now...

"Please... For me?"

His eyes, the way they glimmered and pleaded, was again too much. He was always too much for her. She closed her eyes and pressed the door-bell. Her smile was strained when his mom welcomed her. Her heart was pounding when she hugged her. She was anxious upon removing her wet sandals, afraid if the wooden floor got dirty.

Harrison noticed again. He dumped the umbrella in the stand and stood close to her, his palm stroking her bicep, shooting her a smile which did all the magic.

She heard the unspoken message in his actions.

It's going to be okay.

Should she wait at the dinner table or help his family in the kitchen? It became the question that bothered her after a few minutes of positive interaction, draining all the optimism she had gathered. It became awkward when both his mum and sister left for the kitchen. It became weirder when he followed them, leaving her alone near the dining area.

Playing with the hem of her long sleeves was no more a suitable pass time. She didn't want to chip off the nail paint she applied so intricately. When the noise of a metal spoon or spatula falling to the kitchen floor reached her ears, that was it for her. She walked to the kitchen, desperate to get involved in whatever Harrison and his family were doing.

"Sorry, love. We should have arranged everything on time, but it got a bit delayed." His mum addressed her apologetically.

"Harrison, why don't you spend time with her?" She asked him next.

"Uh---"

"No problem. I was just... bored... thought I could be of any help?" She smiled, joining them inside the kitchen, standing beside her lover, finding something to do.

"I can chop the salad?" She offered when her eyes landed on the uncut vegetables lying over the chopping board.

"Sure..."

They were talking and laughing. So far, so good. His sister was stirring the soup on the stove. He and his mum were arranging the plates and crockery while she was cutting the tomatoes and the green vegetables.

"You can use the serrated knife for the tomatoes. It would be easier." His sister suggested.

"It's fine." She placed a tomato on the board after removing its core and started running the blade vertically. She needed to impress them, flex her chopping abilities. She went on faster, slicing the large tomatoes one after another. Until the knife slipped off and ran across her finger instead. No, the tomatoes were too soft and juicy for that kind of cutting.

The knife dropped on the floor with a sharp noise, diverting all their attention to hers.

"You oka-"

"Yeah. I will just use the bathroom," She excused herself, moving at a pace that was something between running and walking.

Opening the tap of the basin, she let the blood wash off her finger. It was a minor cut but deep. Upon hearing Harrison's voice calling her outside, she turned off the tap instantly and searched the cabinet to find some cotton and rubbing alcohol.

She walked outside, pressing the cotton over her wound, hiding it from Harrison's vision.

"Are you hurt?"

What?

"No. Of course, not." She let out a burst of staggering laughter, trying to surface the lie.

He hummed, pausing for a second, looking into her eyes. She refused to meet his icy-blue ones, clenching her fist tighter to ease the stinging pain.

"There was some blood on the board."

And now Harrison found her outright lying, hiding things. She had read on various online articles how for many people this was the end of the trust. All she wanted was to look good in his family's eyes and they must have come to know about her carelessness too. She even rejected his sister's advice.

Instead, she received a hug. Harrison had softly pushed her back into the bathroom and wrapped his arms around her body, keeping his head on her shoulder.

"I told you it was going to be okay..." He whispered below her ear, softly blowing some stray hair off that area.

"It didn't go okay though," She could feel her voice breaking.

"What didn't go okay, love? All I see is my family being absolutely fond of you." He kissed at the spot below her ear, his favourite place to kiss her.

"I just... made a fool of myself. I am such a noob."

He giggled at the choice of her words.

"No, you are not," He stepped in front of her, lifting her chin with his fingers.

"First, cutting yourself while chopping isn't a big deal. And second, even if you were a noob (he made a dorky face at the word, pouting dramatically), I don't see how it will make you a fool. Come on Y/n, we are here to meet my family not to give an exam." He wiped the little wetness on her eye-lashes and leaned in to peck her over her eyelids.

"I love you, you know that, right?"

Her heart again thudded inside her chest. He just said those three magic words for the first time or was she hearing wrong... She nodded instead, unable to say anything back.

"So, no need to feel embarrassed. And now get me your hand. Let me fix it real fast."

He made her sit over the counter and wrapped a band-aid over the cut. Meanwhile, she still thought of the words, dreading to reply.

"We good to go?"

"Huh?" She realised she was blankly staring at his face. "Er... Yeah."

She jumped off the counter as he walked towards the door.

"Hey, Harrison?"

He stopped at her voice and turned to see her walking towards him.

"I love you too." She said, pressing a kiss over his lips.

He was smiling into the kiss.

She bet she could make him smile again and again. And she did.

ONE-SHOT TAGLIST: @god-knows-what-am-i-doing // @multifandomlover121// @its-a-leap-of-faith-kid // @emmaloo21 // @swiftmind // @trustfundparker // @hollands-weasley // @hazmyheart // @lost-aesthetic-of-past // @tommysparker // @redlips-c // @just-a-littlebit-of-everything // @miraclesoflove // @serendipitous-amor // @hazardosterfield // @lizzyosterfield // @thenoddingbunny-blog // @halfblood-princess-505 // @spidergirl007 // @viagracex // @parkerpeter24 // @fanficscuziranout // @httplayer // @veronicas-littleworld // @slytherin-chaser // @perspectiveparker //

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my-arlington-academia · 4 years ago

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Cliffany part 2

O-kay, and that’s it! I don’t know if I’ll write a continuation tbh since it was just a silly little idea that came out of nowhere. (Although I did have some ideas for more!) I haven’t really been active on my fanblog lately so it’s not like it’ll make much of a difference though haha. By the way, I’m thinking about making my blog more "Dulcet-oriented" rather than just SE. I hope you guys don’t mind? Recently, I’ve been getting more and more into Black Tarot! So expect my blog to change a lil 🔮🕯🌌

--------------------

It had been a couple of days now since Tiffany’s last interaction with Claire, and while she was still ignoring her like before, Tiffany’s efforts in doing so had increased. The moment she spotted her in the corner of her eye, she would move at a faster pace, as if running away. Was it guilt after all? No, she just didn’t have the energy to deal with Claire’s annoying and unnecessary empathy. The empathy that she knew she didn’t deserve which made her feel even more frustrated towards Claire.

All she should be worried about right now is getting more followers on Instaglam, not avoiding a nobody like the plague. On that note, spring was coming soon, the flowers started to blossom and the days were getting longer which meant... that the "cottagecore" tag on insta would go trending soon, no doubt! And of course, living on the Arlington campus as one of its students, this gave Tiffany the access to its beautiful garden. Although honestly, she only ever went there to take pictures and this time wasn’t any different. She had prepared some tea sets and dresses for the occasion, all of which she would throw away once spring went away along with its "trends."

Carried by her confident footsteps, she walked to the garden. That confidence was only a facade though. She knew exactly what kind of people and who in particular went to take strolls quite often in this goddamn garden. But hey, it was 7pm and the sun would soon start to set. Knowing that Claire always arrives 15 minutes in advance to any meeting and most likely always wakes up at 6am, there was nothing to be worried about. Chances are, she was either doing her homework before going to bed like a goody-two-shoes or watering her weird-ass plants. Tiffany always had the horror of seeing these at Raquel’s parties. It just didn’t fit at all with the rest of what was going on in the room and ruined the whole "party" vibe.

In any case, there she was, searching for a good spot to take pictures and set up a fake picnic. That basket filled with different colored blankets, tea sets, biscuits, tea and a pie was way heavier than Tiffany had initially thought. Maybe she really should’ve asked for collab pictures with Trisha from the fine arts department. She didn’t really like her but when it came to follower count they were surprisingly close, although Tiffany was still number one of course. Still, if she had asked for a collab they could’ve carried those heavy props together.

After finding a good spot next to the pond, Tiffany set everything up in an aesthetically pleasing manner and got down to taking the pictures. She was taking different shots to post them one by one throughout the week and give out the illusion that she was taking those the same day she posted them. She was ready to upload the first one, call it a day and go back to the dorms without touching any of the tea or cakes. It’s all just useless calories anyways. As she was putting the tags on the picture, she started wondering what were the names of those flowers in the background.

"Ugh, fuck. What are those orange shits called again?"

"Marigolds."

"Ah right, thank y-"

Tiffany immediately snapped her head back. This annoyingly gentle voice could only belong to one person.

"...What the fuck, Claire. Where did you pop out from?!"

There’s no was she was there the whole time, right? It’s true that Tiffany could get lost in what she was doing once she was focused but it wasn’t to the point where she became completely unaware of her surroundings.

"I came by a few minutes ago... Y-you looked so invested in what you were doing that I didn’t want to bother you! I didn’t mean to pry."

Well, Tiffany could always upload those damn pictures from her room. Claire’s arrival just meant that it was time for her to leave. However, seeing that Tiffany started packing up her things, Claire panicked thinking that it’s her fault. Which was in fact, her fault... in a way.

"O-oh! You’re not going to finish your picnic? I’m so sorry, I’ll just leave! Throwing all of this good food away would be such a waste-"

"Are you fucking dumb?"

Did she not get that this was all only a set-up for taking pictures? It was obvious that Tiffany didn’t have any intention of eating or drinking any of that. Not to mention that after everything that happened the other day, she was still not scared of approaching her?

"I don’t give a damn about the food, it was just for my social media accounts you dumb bit- ... dimwit. I was already done anyway so you don’t have anything to do with the fact that I’m leaving."

"I see! T-then maybe I can help?!"

Help? What did Claire even know about- Actually, on second thought. This whole "cottagecore" shtick was a great fit for Claire. She probably already had all of the things Tiffany bought last week for those pictures, even better and more authentic-looking ones probably. This was maybe the one and only time Tiffany would let Claire "help" her. But from her point of view, she was mostly just using her.

"Hm. Is that so? How can you help me then... Claire."

"Wait just a second! I’ll be back right away!!!"

She ran immediately towards the dorms. Well, she'll probably bring a bunch of random stuff. In the end, Tiffany was really torn between the idea of staying and waiting for who knows how long and the idea of leaving right now. Surely, Claire would make a hilarious expression when she’d realize that she was played with and abandoned. While trying to laugh it off, Tiffany accidentally remembered what happened a few days ago, along with Claire’s crying face. Damn... Okay, fine. She’ll wait for her but only because it would be annoying if she bawled again like a damn toddler.

And so she waited until, from the corner of her eyes, she saw a girl with a pink dress running towards her. That girl, of course, being Claire. She carried a picnic basket with her too, but much bigger and more practical. For half a second, Tiffany thought that Claire actually looked maybe, just maybe, a little bit pretty. She erased the thought in a hurry, covering it with harsh words as usual.

"Wh-why did you change your clothes? You think I’m gonna take pictures of you?"

"Ah, no, well..."

Claire looked at the beautiful picnic set-up and the cyan dress Tiffany was wearing.

"I just wanted to fit in with the rest of what you put up, I guess. Also, don’t you think that we kinda match? I brought some of the cookies I baked and my favorite teas and tea set. I think mine will look better with your picnic blanket! Uh- N-not to say that yours looks bad!!!"

She was trying so hard to make herself likable that it was painful to see... and kinda cute. God, Tiffany was really hating her thoughts today. She was just going soft because of Claire’s aura or something. Again, this was definitely the first and last time she was letting Claire help her with anything. I’d be bad if she turns completely brain-dead and clueless like her.

"...Whatever. Show me what you got. I’ll decide if it’s good enough."

Claire was pulling everything out of the basket one by one. Everytime, better and better items were pulled out after the other. Her cakes and cookies gave off a "homey" feeling which was more fitting with the aesthetic rather than Tiffany’s store bought patisseries. Claire was staring at her, wide-eyed and excited.

"W-what do you think, Tiffany? It looks good, doesn’t it?!"

"Uh. Yeah, it’s fine, I guess. I’ll take a few pics."

That was a lie. This looked so much better than the try-hard bullshit Tiffany had done. She was good at riding on the "trend wave" but Claire was a natural when it came to this one specific thing. Tiffany was trying to look as poker-faced as she could so as to not show her satisfaction, but clearly, her apparent enthusiasm for each shot was betraying her. Sometimes, she would accidentally take one with Claire in the shot and ask her to move.

"Hey. You’re ruining the picture with your ugly fac- dress. Move to the right."

Before Tiffany could even do anything about it, Claire was already pouring some tea into 2 cups.

"Woah woah woah, put the teapot down. I didn’t agree to this."

"But...This is a kettle, Tiffany. Not a teapot."

"Oh, shut it!"

Claire gave off such a dejected face that Tiffany, once again, felt like she was kicking a poor puppy to the ground. She held back on going off on a rant.

"But we’re already here and the weather is so nice! It would be such a shame not to use any of this at all..."

Claire looked around, observing this beautiful setting, not to mention, the sun was finally starting to set. Going home right now would be like an insult to the utter beauty of this scene, it almost looked like it came right out of a fairy tale picture book. Without mulling it over any further, Tiffany took a sip out of her cup.

"I’m only doing this because I feel compelled to, got it?"

Claire’s eyes lit up nonetheless.

"Alright! Please try out my cookies too!"

Tiffany contemplated them for a second... is it true that home-made stuff is more healthy? Surely, that’s just a myth, right? A cake from the store and a home-made cake will have about the same amount of sugar in them regardless of who made them and how. Well, she did see Claire share her food from time to time with her friends and while she would never admit it, it is true that she was a bit curious about trying them herself. What was the last time she had eaten anything "home-made"? Or did it ever even happen?

"...Okay, whatever. I bet they taste shitty."

Tiffany reluctantly took a bite... It was surprisingly really delicious!

"It’s bad."

"R-really?"

As much as she wanted to lie about it, she couldn’t after seeing Claire make that dejected face again.

"Uhhh. No, um. Hmm... On second thought, it’s pretty average. It’s okay-ish."

Tiffany really hated herself right now. Being mean has never been this hard before. She couldn’t wait for the moment where they would be done with this ridiculous play-pretend and go back to her room. She tried drinking and eating as fast as she could without making it look like she was in a hurry to run away from this awkward situation. And God, it was so fucking hard...

Unsurprisingly, they were both pretty silent the whole time. Well, it wasn’t like they had anything to converse about or things in common. Right as Tiffany was about to get up and pack up her belongings, for real this time, Claire spoke up. Nervously fiddling with the hem of her dress.

"Um. So you know, I have something to confess to you, Tiffany."

Oh God, not now. As much as Tiffany found this timing annoying, she couldn’t help but poke fun at that poor choice of words.

"Confess? Oh my, so you like me in that way, huh? That explains everything."

"Wha- N-no! That’s not it! I mean, realistically speaking, t-that would never even happen!"

Was she implying that she could never like someone like Tiffany? Well, Tiffany herself was the one who brought this up but she was a bit offended at that statement. Regardless though, the way she was trying to deny it so hard was kinda cute. No. Not cute at all! If this went on, Tiffany would really become crazy before the end of this day.

"Last time, you said that I was only being kind towards others to profit off of them and I didn’t say anything but... that wasn’t true at all! I always wanted to help you because I thought that you needed it, I swear. Not to satisfy myself! ... Well. Except maybe..."

"Except...?"

"T-today. I admit that I kind of had ulterior motives."

Now that piqued Tiffany’s curiousness right away. Suddenly, she didn’t want to leave as much anymore if it meant that Claire would finally admit that she did some things for her own benefit. Why was it? Did she want to post a picture of herself on Tiffany’s Instaglam to fish for compliments, knowing that she had a lot of followers? Claire hid her face behind her hands and muttered a few words.

"I... wanted you to warm up to me."

"...Huh?"

That’s it? That was it? Claire’s ulterior motive was for Tiffany to "warm up to her."?

"So like, you want us to be friends or some shit?"

"Oh no! Not necessarily that far, just... good acquaintances!"

Is she stupid? There’s no way that she genuinely thinks those "motives" are bad. Tiffany sighed in exasperation.

"Listen. I’m just really tired right now, I don’t have the energy to assimilate all the shit you’re saying. I’m packing all of this up and going back to the dorms."

In complete silence, they gathered all of their belongings and walked to the dorms while keeping a fair distance between the 2 of them. As if to say, "we’ve got nothing to do with each other." Surprisingly, Claire didn’t try anything anymore. Didn’t even wish for a "good night" or a "good evening" which was weird to say the least. Tiffany tried to ignore it and when she got back and unpacked all of the props, she noticed something that didn’t belong to her. One of Claire’s lunch boxes with cookies in them and... a note?

Here’s my number just in case ;3 Please give me my lunchbox back once you’re done eating the cookies!♡

"...Your note makes me wanna barf."

So that’s why she didn’t try anything. That sneaky little... she must've slid that into the basket when they were packing. She already knew that Tiffany would eventually be forced to talk to her again... as if! Who says she’ll return it? She can just throw all the cookies away along with the box... Or so she thought. Tempted, she took a bite, then another one. And another one. Her diet was ruined for sure now. Damn you Claire and your stupidly great cooking skills, as if you needed another skill to be better and more perfect than you already are. Tiffany put the box away, trying to forget the delicious taste and smell. Back to Instaglam she goes. Uploading the picture while adding the "marigold" tag on it. Going through the pictures again, she noticed that some of them had Claire in the corner. She was thinking of deleting them but... well whatever. She can just crop her out later if needed. Her dress looks pretty so it’s fine even if she does appear in the pictures. All we see is a bit of her hair, as long as her face isn’t visible, it’s okay. Yup. It was totally not because Tiffany was slowly starting to feel something towards the girl she was trying so hard not to get involved with.

#sweet elite #claire durand #tiffany #cliffany #crackship #fanfics

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mrpenguinpants · 4 years ago

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Alright, I finally read Reincarnation no Kaben

AFTER MONTHS (it’s probably been a month? My mind doesn’t keep track of the days) I FINALLY CAUGHT UP TO RNK. Ty to Okita anon for the recommendation (*￣3￣)╭💕💕💕 I absolutely loved it.

After this I’ll start on the other recommendation you gave me. I kept a bit of a log of my reading journey under the read more tag.

Major spoilers for literally everything in RNK up to ch 53 “Withdrawal”.

Oh, and I’ll finish answering all my leftover asks and I SHOULD have a fic done by tomorrow. I was so ready to write and then I got up. Now I’m back to bed.

I’m just gonna write this as a log since I read super super slow and I’m only on ch 7 at the start of writing this but I’m really liking it already. Though to be fair. I love everything okita anon recommends haha. I remember you saying you were simping over Kouu and I haven’t gotten to the part where he appears but I wanted to quickly google what he looked like to prepare myself and I see this:

Well. That’s reassuring.

I was actually kinda surprised by how many western figures were in the manga since I know there are only like 7? Around 7 western figures that pop up in any anime/manga but seeing people like Albert Fish was kinda surprising but I really liked it. Also, at the end of certain chapters they write little bio’s on them so you get to know more about them was such a nice touch. I also love that the tradition of making males -> females still stays strong even outside the fate universe hehe.

---

Literally, the next chapter I see him. AHHHHHHHHH. Well maybe not him but his eyeballs.

This guy lowkey reminds me of the MC’s brother but it’s 99% because he has the same long ponytail. I wouldn’t be surprised if the brother was apart of the the Greats. Honestly, Ein reminds me of those really hard headed girls that are actually really kind on the inside but aren’t good at expressing themselves (maybe because that’s pretty much her character). I also like that Ein doesn’t like males but she’s hiding behind this guy. At least, I’m..99% sure this is Ein.

I FUCKING KNEW IT. AS SOON AS I SAW HE GOT A THEIF TALENT I COULD FEEL THE SOLO LEVELING VIBES IN ME. HE CAN STEAL TALENTS I FUCKING KNEW IT!!! I’m surprised that Neumann didn’t say anything and Haito seems to be aware of it.

Edit: Ah okay, I understand a bit now but it almost seems like Haito is the only one aware of Toya’s second talent.

Edit 2: Okay, as much as I love power hungry MC’s I’m really glad they didn’t make Toya into that. I am such a softie for sympathetic and kind MC’s like these even though it’s been done so many times. I’m really glad this didn’t feel like a rehash. I mean, some points some of the stuff Toya says it does but it’s fine, I don’t mind that. I actually gave a crap about him since I usually prefer the side characters (I UNDERSTAND ANON, I CARE ABOUT KOUU SO MUCH AHHHHH) but HAITO?? AHHHHH.

---

I like that Izo always has the same hat in every adaptation he’s in lol. Istg, cats are always op. Schrodinger seems so strong and the parallel universes are my absolute shit. Sometimes I think, in one universe I did this and in this universe I’m not. Would I rather stay in this universe or be in the one where I am actually productive. Usually I pick the productive universe and actually work but sometimes I’m a bit of a slacker haha. I think this is my approach to a lot of things in life. But I digress, I don’t wanna get too deep into my life.

I can sorta sympathize with the sinners. At least the ripper guy to say the least. I love love love unhinged characters that just want to basically destroy the world or at least have fun. But then you find out- wait they are actually sympathetic oh no. That’s how I felt about Djoser in “im the great priest imhotep” (please...i beg...someone read this...I’m so starved).

As much as character development and rooting for the hero is cool and all, I just want to simp for the crazy “let’s burn the world to the ground” kinda character. I’m also so glad Toya doesn’t automatically become evil and try and steal everyone’s talents because he does seem like a good person and I really don’t see him suddenly switching fields so when he saved (I don’t remember names I’m sorry), the undead solider it was really nice. Proves that he still has his humanity and isn’t strictly relying on the branch of sin.

It makes sense that he wants to steal talents since he never had one (and it was kinda out of left field when he killed Vlad and we just never addressed that ever again haha) but to see him actually consider his actions and if he actually want’s to steal his teammates talents feels right to me. Poor guy doesn’t seem to have a lot of friends so this is the first time he’s ever seemed to have companionship, aside from Haito, so I really hope he doesn’t attempt to steal their talents. I think I’m thinking of the slime? That time I got reincarnated as a slime manga/anime. Where he’s the pokemon catcher of skills. I thought that was where it was going.

But I do kinda like how selfish Haito and Toya’s talent stealing relationship is (I mean, later it develops but my first draft of writing this I wasn’t there yet). I’m not sure if selfish or like self-gratitude/pride is the right word but it’s kind of a breath of fresh air. Rather than Haito trying to contain or “help” Toya’s inferiority she’s actually encouraging it and using her own talent for her own...acknowledgement? Er, yeah let’s go with that.

---

This. This interaction. I love this. Like, genuinely love this. We need more of this. Two people from opposite sides finding some common ground and their fight to the death is less about morals or whose on whose side but for themselves. I love that. This is actually some wholesome stuff.

Edit: AHHHHH CATCH MY UGLY CRYING IN THE BACK BECAUSE ALL THE “SINNERS” ARE ACTUALLY AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. IM DEAD. YOU’VE KILLED ME.

---

I KNEW IT! YOU CAN NEVER TRUST THESE KIND OF PEOPLE!! I’m going to slap the whiteboard on this but if I see any “goofy” character I’m immediately sus of them.

As much as I hate that Hitler is getting drawn as a small child I really like this. I know the whole, oh I killed your friends but I’m letting you go because you express humanity but I’m gonna finish my death with a sympathetic line, can be annoying to people but idk I really liked this.

Honestly this and the undead soldiers death hit me hard ngl. This manga might not have my favourite art style during some points compared to like main stream manga but it has some really beautiful scenes.

BOOM CALLED IT, though it’s pretty obvious lol.

THE PONY TAIL NEVER LIES AND HES DA VINCI IT MAKES SENSE NOW

He looks so cute lol. I like that Seiya has the talent of being talented in everything while Toya has the talent to steal other talents. Seiya can probably only cap his power by his own physical/mental abilities with Toya can pull a solo leveling and go further beyond. Thinking of it like jack of trades vs master of none type deals. Though, I might be thinking too hard on this. I like that this man is actually humble but I really wish there was a tiny bit more to him since we only get this one interaction/backstory but the manga isn’t completed yet. I really hope we get to know about Seiya more;; like how he became da vinci or etc.

Everytime I see Neumann I look at that comic sans type and it kills me on the inside. But I love that her eyes are 01 just, mwah perfection. These little details that aren’t that big but it’s soooo nice. I also ahem, unhinged character heart be still. It’s really nice reading manga in bursts because you can see the art progression and damn does she look good.

tiny fang appreciation post.

ngl i’M HARD SIMPING FOR THIS MAN. It’s the pony tail, I have such a thing for guys with long hair (and this is why genshin broke me) but man the art really picked up here.

I didn’t get into it but OKITA ANON I GET IT. KOUU??? AHHHH. WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DIE??? As much as his whole “war” was a bit questionable in the beginning and tbh I still don’t really get it I like that he knows he’s not the same as the other Greats but still tries to help the other “sinners” in a way only he knows. That’s why Seiya was so important;; I get that he wanted them to have a fun death and to be understood but idk, the whole war idea and having them kill each other (especially the Hitler fights because I understand the others since they reached some kind of acknowledgement) but nonetheless, what a great guy.

Nightingale gives me mad masaki vibes from chainsawman. I hate them and I can’t wait for you to fail, but the inner part of my is cheering for you because unhinged characters are my shit. I feel really bad for Neumann, I had suspicions she wasn’t actually like that since it’s sooo out of left field but I’m really glad the manga seems to know what it’s doing. I really wish we got more Kouu interactions with everyone tho.

NOW THIS. THIS IS SOME WHOLESOME STUFF. I WANT THIS. I REALLY WANT SPIN-OFF OF REALLY SAD ANIME/MANGA/STORIES WHERE ALL THE DEAD PEOPLE HANG OUT. That’s how I’m feeling about JJK and the scroll segments or BSD WAN that just came out. IT’S SO WHOLESOME TO SEE EVERYONE NOT TRYING TO KILL EACH OTHER.

UGLY SOBBING IN THE CLUBBB AND KOUU AND CHARLOTTE AHHHH. I hate how this is phrased but the respect I have for Hitler?? YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW HARD THAT IS TO TYPE?? Kitazuka is cool tho, I really like him. Some god given talent. I’m hard simping over him but I really hope we get to know more about him later.

Getting smug mona vibes, I love this.

AHHH IVE NEVER FELT THIS UPSET OVER AN APPLEEEE. I’M ACTUALLY UPSET. IF HE DIES IM ACTUALLY GOING TO CRY MY HEART OUT.

THE FAMOUS SLAP

I’M SORRY WHA- SLENDERMAN?

Oh..wow. Okay, be still my heart. When I first saw her I thought she was really pretty but now I’m absolutely smitten. God damn, can I please have some more crumbs on these characters before they die;;

AHHH SAME GIRL FUCKING SAME????? I adore these small panels and translator notes. It’s a real breather after the sad 3am hours talk these characters go through.

Yagyuu. Jesus christ. WHY ARE ALL THE DEATH SCENES IN THIS MANGA ACTUALLY SO PRETTY AND STABS ME IN THE HEART??? that’s it. goodbye. im fucking out. im actually so upset rn. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?

---

In conclusion, and I should probably re-read what the characters say and not go off on memory because I’m about to get really deep. I really like how they phrased why they wanted to stop the branch of sin. That there are people just like Toya and Haito who, if they never found the branch of sin, could still probably lead respectable and okay lives. That there was a “them” in another universe that didn’t go down that road and that they want to be in the same universe as “them”. I know this sounds really confusing if you haven’t read the manga but going back to what I said about the parallel universe stuff.

There was a universe where Toya and Haito didn’t rely on the branch of sin, that even without their talents from becoming a returner, they could still live a happy life given their own personalities and attitudes. It was kinda moving since in the beginning, Toya wanted a talent so badly and now that he has one. He’s realizing that wait, I don’t need a past life talent in order to live. Honestly, I hard relate to that because I totally agree with him. If you have a talent you can probably live a very happy and comfortable life that other factors wouldn’t matter if you just have that incredible talent. Thinking of it as a painter or artist, if you had actual god-given talent you wouldn’t need to worry about other factors since people would naturally seek that talent. So you end up comparing yourself to others and setting that limit on yourself.

But that’s okay, it’s completely natural and I’m not saying it’s horrible if you do this. Fuck, I do this all the time. I’m not saying the manga is changing my life but it’s kind of refreshing that it get’s talked about since other adaptations of this just make the character super OP. I understand wanting to have that incredible talent, fuck who doesn’t? but you don’t need it in order to live earnestly in the bigger picture sense. Not everything you do has to be productive and honestly, learning to be okay with having fun is nice. Just being okay with who you are right now, even if it isn’t perfect in your eyes, you still have time to build upon yourself and your own talents but doing it for yourself.

But I probably missed the point and I’m going way to deep haha. But I really enjoyed reading this and thank you once again to okita anon for the recommendation^^ I always love everything you send me and I’ll start reading the next one. If anyone else has any recommendations let me know!

#WOW WHAT A FUCKING TRAIN RIDE #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #ALRIGHT TIME TO GO CRY MY HEART OUT #JESUS THIS ACTUALLY SO BEAUTIFUL???#PLEAE PLEASE PLEASE READ IT #IK THE BEGINNING MIGHT SEEM A BIT WEIRD WITH SO MUCH INFORMATION THROWN AT YOU BUT DO IT #IT GETS SOOOO GOOD LATER #ITS GETTING SO GOOD RN BUT I NEED TO WAIT FOR UPDATES #OKITA ANON YOU ARE SUCH AN MVP FUCK I LOVE IT #BUT YOURE ALSO KILLING ME #super duper fucking i love you i actually love you mwha #okita anon #lovely anon #anon ask #reincarnation no kaben

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justkindaoverhereobsessing · 4 years ago

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2020 IN WRITING

tagged by: @indestinatus

tagging: no one, because I am unable to think straight. But whoever is interested in doing this: I’m interested in reading it. <3

Wow, okay, I’m getting real in this little questionnaire... read at your own risk, friends.

1. List of works published this year:

I genuinely can’t write them all out here... there are too many of them! (I’ve done so little besides writing this year!) But I keep a running list of all my projects here. I’m sorry for cheating on this one, haha.

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

This question comes up a lot on these things, and I always put the same answer: That We May Forgive. It’s has emotional moments, silly moments, heartfelt moments where the warmth made me cry as I wrote. It was written in one sitting, and it’s the story where I felt most connected to the characters I love so much. It sums up the joy I feel knowing that these (fictional) friends of mine have finally reached peace after too many years of trauma and hardship. I began the story with a single line in mind, after which the characters took over and told the story for me:

Ziva's second pregnancy is nothing like her first.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

You Stumble, You Soar, which was written for one of my dearest friends in the world, @why-did-you-just-lie-to-mcgee. I wanted to do so much better by her, but as I ran out of time to complete the story by the end of her birthday, I rushed the writing and I think the story suffered for it. It made her happy, though, and that’s the most important thing. She deserves all the happiness, all the time—but especially on her birthday.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

I can’t think of a favorite excerpt of my writing, because I’ve written so much that I can’t think back!

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

“Wow. Let me just tell you that I am absolutely in love with this story. I wake up everyday and, as I log into fanfiction, my only hope is that you've uploaded a new chapter because DAMN. The characters are so well written, the story is beautifully constructed and this last chapter just broke my heart into tiny little pieces. What a remarkable job you've done. Please, don't ever stop writing NCIS/Tiva fanfiction- specially this one story: it's one of my all time favorites. Thank you :)”

An incredibly kind and inspiring comment by a reader named Alexandra on my longest (WIP) fic, We Are an Ocean.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

I’ve had two periods of NCIS hiatus this year—and actually, I’m still in the midst of the second one right now. These have periods of turmoil in my own life. When I’m upset, feeling sick, feeling sorry for myself and I’m depressed and aching... that’s when I write the best, because writing is my safety blanket. When I’m feeling numb, though, or lost... the characters are lost to me, too, and so are the words I use to wrap them (and myself) in comfort.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

I’m going to deviate here from NCIS, which is—I’m well aware—why most of my followers have chosen to follow me. But in the last month, I’ve written a single fic for Criminal Minds—it’s called In Possibility, it’s unpublished, and it’s now over 100,00 words. It’s centered on Spencer Reid, who was intimidating to me when I started writing the fic. He’s far more intelligent than I am, requiring me to do a lot of research to give him realistic lines, he’s a deep and complicated character with complicated motivations and a tangled, traumatic past. He also has a sweet, really good heart that’s been scarred by years of difficult work and an emotionally taxing personal life.

I thought he’d be difficult to write; to my surprise, he comes as naturally to me as any of my other favorite characters ever have. He gave me my first nanowrimo win! To be frank, he’s gotten me through a lot of shit this year. That was the best surprise.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

To be honest, I wasn’t much of a writer before this year. I enjoyed writing, especially in a roleplay setting with fandom friends... but I deeply struggled with trying to write alone. I didn’t do much of it.

Then, this year, well... the concept of writing exploded into the most important distraction, escape, and joy I could imagine.

I didn’t grow as a writer this year. I became a writer this year.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

My most recent project—the one that, as I’ve said, is (and will remain) unpublished—has given me a new perspective. It’s written for an audience of me and only me... so I’ve given myself permission to engage in the most ridiculously self-indulgent writing I’ve ever embraced and thrown myself into.

And it has been the greatest joy I could imagine in a time of great pain.*

Next year, I want to throw myself into every project I work on with as much reckless abandon as I’ve done in this last project. I want to stop worrying so much about what people will think and pursue the words that are bursting out of the fingers on my laptop keyboard. I want to have confidence in my ability to draw out emotions—if from no one else, at least from myself.

“If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain.” —Emily Dickinson

And it’s alright if that one heart is mine.

That’s what I want to accomplish in my writing next year, and what a growth that would be!

* I’ve mentioned this in my last post, but I’m recovering from brain surgery, I also have the COVID-19 virus, and I’m working on passing a kidney stone that may be too big to pass. I’m writing 10,000 words a day to get through it—and it’s working. Distraction is everything to me right now.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Like Sof, I have to tag three people here, because I really couldn’t choose just one. My three best friends in the world all influenced my writing in their own ways! <3 (Sorry for deviating a little from the writing thing in some of the following lines, oops. I just have emotions that are all over the place this week!)

@indestinatus — One of a few best friends who has had my back every day for so long now. She listens when I need to talk things out—whether or not I’m talking about writing. She really gets me when I need to be silly, or I need to be serious, or I just really, really need a friend. Also, she inspired me to start learning Portuguese this year, and I’m actually practicing by writing a fic in Portuguese, lol. It’s slow going... but Sof encourages me (and corrects me, haha) whenever I work on it, just as she does with absolutely anything else I work on. Truly, I’ve had few friends in my life that are so special to me, and I love her. I really do.

@why-did-you-just-lie-to-mcgee — Is there a better cheerleader on this earth? Is there a better friend? Doubtful on both counts. She thinks I’m a disaster—and, by the way, she’s absolutely right—and she sometimes has to remind me to eat and sleep, but she’s totally cool with being my internet mom. Doesn’t matter that she’s nearly a decade younger than I am, lol. All of these things have bolstered me when the writer inside of me has faltered, and she has carried my burdens as I wrote them out. Anyway, she reads everything I write, and she has requested to gain access to all of my unfinished chapters and unpublished works in the event that I die—I completely trust her with that nonsense. I’ve written it into my will. Really. Like with Sof, I genuinely love Tiz, and I’d do anything for her.

@honeybadgerdocare — Best friend of 20 years. She doesn’t watch the same shows that I do, and my endless ranting makes very little sense to her... but she listens. She’s my sounding board for everything I write, everything I read, everything I watch, and everything that gives me big feelings. I genuinely can’t describe how much she has helped me with my writing every single day, so I’ll leave it at this: I could not do it without her. I’d drown in my own struggles and I’d stop creating the art that sustains me. She’s my soulmate—sorry to her fiancé. All of my love goes to her!

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

HAHAHAHAHA it’s cute how you think my writing is anything other than a re-organized and fictionalized version of my life and my feelings. Real life shows up in my writing, and my writing shows up in my real life. It gets crazy and obsessive, but like... I had a trip to Israel booked this year (obviously canceled due to the pandemic, but still) because Ziva comes from Israel. (Also because of my Jewish adoration for the spiritual homeland, but the thought of going and the trip planning all started with Ziva.) I went to Baltimore so I could run down an alley yelling “YOU CAN’T OUTRUN ME, I’M WEARING TUBE SOCKS!” to encourage my inner Tony DiNozzo. I nearly froze to death in Washington, D.C. and called my mom every time I saw a little red mini coop that looked like Ziva’s, or came across a place that was featured in an NCIS scene.

And to answer the actual question here, because I obviously flipped it around like the moron I am... when the pandemic canceled things I was desperately looking forward to, I wrote a fic where Tali’s excitedly anticipated dance recital got canceled because of the pandemic. I lost my appendix (last year, but the fic was written this year — does that count?) and wrote a fic where Tali loses hers, too. (I swear, I don’t always write things that torture Tali, lol, these are just my best examples!) When I lost a couple of loved ones this year, I wrote a funeral scene where Tony and Tali remembered Ziva. Writing is definitely free therapy, y’all.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Write for yourself—write what you love, and you’ll love what you write. That’s all. That’s it. That’s my advice, something I’ve learned this year.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

I’ve been working on We Are an Ocean for roughly a year now, and 2021 needs to see it finished. I’ve got a number of lovely, dedicated readers who deserve to see the story play out as it’s intended to be played out.

Also, my greatest love right now, In Possibility, will probably write itself to an end in 2021. Or... who knows? Maybe it will worm its way into 2022, too. :-)

14. If you could recommend only one work from yourself published this year:

Since I already went into detail about my favorite fic of mine from this year (That We May Forgive), I’ll recommend a different one: The Stars Always Make Me Laugh. It has some of the darkest moments I’ve ever written, but it also has some of the lightest moments I’ve ever written. It was an answer to two different challenges, and if I can say this without sounding arrogant, I think I met the challenges beautifully. It gave me comfort, catharsis, and closure for a few things in my own life... and I hope it comforts my readers, too.

15. Year word count:

HOLY FUCKING SHIT (excuse my French). I just added up my AO3 word count + my current unpublished project, and... my word count is:

428,557.

FOUR HUNDRED AND TWENTY-EIGHT THOUSAND, FIVE HUNDRED AND FIFTY SEVEN WORDS

I nearly just fell out of my chair. Goodbye, friends. I am deceased.

#wow wow wow #i'm so sorry for the aggressive feelings here #did not mean to get that effin detailed about my life #but i can't help that my emotions are wildly fluctuating as I fight so many health issues at once #anyway #still on hiatus but #this questionnaire thing soothed my soul #and i enjoyed doing it #thanks for the tag sof!#love you all #about cynthia #personal

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css1992 · 5 years ago

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Domestic!Starker

[REPOST]

Guys, I’m soo sorry, I’m reposting this because Tumblr made my post from earlier disappear from the Starker tag :´(((

An Anon sent this request:

“Tony's feet are killing him and sweet bf, peter messages him.”

Look at me, sloowly filling prompts. This was supposed to be ready last week, but I wasn’t feeling well, some things happened and I couldn’t write, but now I’m back on track!

Anon, I hope you don’t mind that I took your prompt a little too far, I’m not sure that’s what you had in mind, but I promise there’s a foot massage there. Haha! I hope you like it.

I still have other prompts in my inbox, remember to have patience with little ol’ me.

Domestic!Starker, established relationship, fluff.

Word count: 4k+

Warnings: I believe there’s nothing triggering here, but if you spot anything that might be triggering to anyone, please let me know!

-*-

Peter was eighteen when he joined the Avengers. Tony had been after him ever since he got his powers, at sixteen, and started posting videos of himself on YouTube. He always came to him as Iron Man, though, on top of buildings late at night; in dark alleys, when Spider-man was overwhelmed and outnumbered; during world-ending wars against purple skinned aliens. Tony was always there when Peter needed him – or, Iron Man was always there when Spider-man needed him. The press loved it, they portrayed him as Iron Man’s sidekick, his apprentice. Peter didn’t mind, he liked it, wished it was true, but they only ever met in highly stressful situations. It was like Tony was watching over him or something, like he knew where to find him if he was ever in danger.

Which – yeah. Of course he did.

Peter thought his secret identity was safe, that no one knew who he was, but, who was he kidding, it was Tony Stark, he knew everything. He had been helping him keep his identity a secret from day one, had FRIDAY monitoring the internet for pictures or videos of him changing into the costume. He erased all security cameras’ videos of him changing carelessly in alleys – there were hundreds of those, according to him.

“A little dumb for such a smart kid, but who am I to judge, I’ve done my fair share of dumb in the past,” he’d said, shrugging, sitting on his aunt May’s couch one night, when she was away at work. It was Peter’s eighteenth birthday, and Tony Stark had just rung the bell, invited himself in and asked Peter to join the Avengers. Just like that.

“I’m – uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir, and I don’t know what use I could have for the Avengers, I’m just – I’m just some kid.“ Peter laughed nervously, wringing his hands, but Tony was barely listening to him, he was searching for something on his phone.

“So this isn’t you?” He asked when a 3D hologram video of Peter undressing popped up from the phone. Peter spent exactly fifteen seconds thinking about how cool that was before he started freaking out. “Your secret is safe with me, kid. I told you, I’ve known since the first time you ever put on that awful onesie and started punching bad guys.”

“Why – you’ve never said anything. All those times we met.” The older man put his phone back in his pocket, then shrugged.

“You were just a kid, you had enough on your plate just being our friendly neighborhood Spider-man, I didn’t want to overwhelm you with superhero drama. But you’re all grown up now and we could really use your help, so what do you say?” He looked at him expectantly and the young man blinked owlishly.

Peter learned that day that he couldn’t say no to Tony. Not that he wanted to, but he was used to being a lone wolf, he didn’t know how he would fit into a group of superheroes who had so much history together, but he said yes, anyway. Even if he was moving to Boston in just a few weeks, even if he was starting college – and not just any college, MIT –, even if it would be almost impossible to keep his identity a secret for long after that, even though he knew he’d have to finally tell May everything – he looked into the older man’s eyes and said yes.

That was when Peter Parker’s relationship with Tony Stark officially started, without the suits, and it was so very different from what Iron Man and Spider-man had. When Peter was in the mask, everything was so much easier, he was sassy, smart-mouthed and sarcastic, there was safety in anonymity. With the mask off, though, it was so hard to interact with Tony – the man was a genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist, Peter was just – Peter.

Tony noticed, too, he always looked amused when Peter stuttered and stumbled around him, like the first time the billionaire showed up in his dorm room one night and told him to “suit up, we’re going to Wakanda”, and Peter blushed bright red as he tried to cover his naked thighs by pulling down the hem of the old t-shirt he wore to bed instead of pajamas.

“You’re nothing like I thought you’d be, kid,” he told him on the Quinjet, when they were on their way to Africa to deal with some alien threat. He sat right next to Tony in his only clean T-shirt and not-so-clean sweatpants and he blushed furiously as he looked at the impeccable tracksuit that the billionaire usually wore under the Iron Man armor if he had time to change.

“I-I’m sorry.” He dropped his gaze, biting his lower lip, but Tony placed a hand on his knee, patting it gently.

“Don’t apologize, I like it. Spider-man is kind of a brat, anyway. I like you better.” He winked, and Peter’s eyes widened in awe.

During his freshman year, they didn’t meet that often, at least not in person, but they texted a lot and sometimes even talked on the phone. It usually started with a good excuse, like the time Peter asked about getting a suit upgrade, but they always ended up talking for hours; at first, it was always about Peter’s classes, Tony’s projects, Avengers’ missions, that sort of thing, but slowly their conversations became more personal, intimate. One night, Tony told him his relationship with Pepper was over – had been for a few months at the time, but the press didn’t know about it yet.

Peter didn’t know what to feel when he heard that – on one hand, Tony sounded broken. He wasn’t drunk, thankfully, he’d been sober a few years, but he was clearly devastated, even if all that ever came out of his lips was “It’s okay, I just want her to be happy”. On the other hand, Peter had fallen in love with him over all those months, and he knew he was just a kid and he shouldn’t really know what love was, and people would assume it was just a crush, hero worship, but he just knew deep in his bones that he loved that man. With all his scars and all his flaws, his crazy ideas and his acid jokes, his genius inventions and his big heart.

He didn’t say anything, though, he was just an eighteen year old kid, and even though Tony never really treated him like a child, he knew he didn’t stand any chance. Tony was forty-eight at the time, the richest man in the world, he was fucking Iron Man, the man who saved the whole universe with a snap of his fingers and lived to tell the tale – he was way, way out of Peter’s league and he was okay with it. The fact that the man was willing to talk to him, be his friend, his mentor, whatever, was good enough for Peter. He’d take anything he could get.

He was nineteen when he got back for his first summer break. They all agreed that it would be best for him to stay with the Avengers at the compound, for training exercises and meetings, and he could go home to stay with May during the weekends. Tony didn’t live in the compound at the time, he lived in his penthouse in the city, but he was there almost everyday during Peter’s summer break. His very first night there, actually, Tony invited him to dinner in his private living quarters and then they headed down to the lab and started a bit of a routine. They would spend hours together down there, Tony helped him with his projects and with his school work and Peter helped him with S.I.’s new products and with suits upgrades for all the Avengers. It was already perfect, already so much more than he could hope for.

But it got better. One night, when they were both exhausted after almost 33 hours working non-stop, Peter was babbling about his sparring match with Natasha and how he got his ass handed to him when Tony kissed him. Peter figured he did it because he wasn’t even thinking straight anymore, blind from exhaustion, maybe he just wanted him to shut up, so he took the chance and kissed him back, trying to commit every detail to memory, every single taste and texture, the feel of his strong arms wrapped around his waist, his beard brushing against his soft skin, the smell of grease and sweat, and the taste of coffee and too much chocolate to keep them going for so many hours. He thought he’d never get to experience that again, but he was wrong.

Tony didn’t pretend like nothing happened the next day, he greeted him with a kiss good morning when he walked into the kitchen. The other Avengers present stared, but didn’t say anything. The younger man’s insides were in knots, he was so happy, excited, anxious, and so fucking in love with that man. They only had The Talk that night at dinner, in Tony’s quarters.

“I know you’ve probably heard a lot of shit about me, kid, and I need you to know it’s all true, okay?” Peter stared at him with big, round eyes, cheeks full of spaghetti – that Tony had cooked with his own hands, which somehow made it tastier –, surprised by his words because they had been talking shop and pretending that that wasn’t a date until that moment. “I was a bit of a player –“ Peter actually choked on his spaghetti at that. “Wh – are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sorry, go on.” Peter took a huge sip of water and prepared himself for the blow. That was Tony’s way of dumping him gently, apparently. It involved pasta, candlelit dinner and stories about his playboy years. Great.

“So, I was a bit of a player, I’m sure you’ve heard that, and it’s all true, but – I’m too old for that shit now. I don’t – I’m not like that anymore. I’m saying this because you’re young, you’re in college, and I’m sure you’re not looking for anything serious, you’re just having fun, and I should have thought of that before – before I kissed you. I don’t do ‘just fun’ anymore, kid. So I understand if you wanna stop this right now, I just wanna let you know there’s no hard feelings if you do, it changes nothing, we’ll still be friends, and lab buddies, and sidekicks or whatever. Ok? It doesn’t have to change anything.” It took a while for Peter to piece the words together in a way that made sense, but when he did, his eyes rounded and he choked – again – on his water. “Pete –“

“I want things to change,” Peter blurted, face red with embarrassment and lack of oxygen – either or. The older man seemed a little surprised, but his expression remained neutral. “I-I don’t do ‘just fun’ either, Tony. It’s not me. I want this – us – to mean something. If you’re willing to try.”

And try they did. They learned as they went, one day at a time. As mature as Peter liked to think he was, he was nineteen, and very inexperienced when it came to relationships, so he let Tony take the lead. The older man didn’t mind to take it slow – way too slow, even for Peter. They went on dates that ended with chaste kisses in front of Peter’s bedroom door, Tony never offered to come in. Those dates escalated to movie marathons in Tony’s quarters, where hands and lips were finally allowed to wander, but always above the waist.

Peter wasn’t a virgin and he told Tony that, but still the older man wouldn’t even try to go any further then a little kissing, so, on his last week home, Peter took matters into his own hands and straddled him, blushing furiously, and kissed him hard, pressing his hard-on against Tony’s. He wished he had done that sooner, apparently it was all the green light Tony needed to get things going. Waking up beside the older man the next day was arguably the best thing that had happened all summer and they barely left the room for those last seven days. But when they finally did, Tony had to drive him to the airport with the promise to visit in a month.

They made it work around their tight schedules, between Peter’s classes, Tony running S.I. and they both saving the world on occasion, they had candlelit dinners, quiet movie nights and slow love-making in the shower. If they had enough time for a short trip, Tony would take Peter out of the country, somewhere secluded and safe, where they could spend an entire day lying on the beach or cuddled up in front of a fireplace.

That was Peter’s first relationship, and it seemed to make Tony feel insecure and – guilty. Most of the time, the older man just let it happen, just rolled with it; some other times, though, he’d freak out and rant about how Peter should be out there living his life, meeting people, kissing other mouths. Not even once did Peter feel tempted to do any of that, so as Tony freaked out, he just looked at him and smiled softly, waiting for him to finish to tell him that “It’s okay, we’ll be okay”.

As the years passed after Thanos, things finally started to settle down, the world was as peaceful as it could possibly get, at least Peter thought so. The Avengers weren’t needed as often, so slowly people started leaving the compound, some even moving away from the city or the country – Wanda and Vision were the first to leave for Europe. By Peter’s third summer home, there wasn’t anyone at the compound, so he stayed with Tony at the penthouse.

The older man seemed surprised when Peter showed up, he probably had just assumed that he’d stay with May, but he was so happy he couldn’t stop smiling all day long. It was a new experience for them, “living together”. At the compound, even if Tony had his own living quarters and they mostly stayed there, there were other people involved in their daily routine, way too many people.

At the penthouse, it was just them – they shared house chores, Tony complained about doing the dishes, Peter chastised him about wet towels on the bed, they cooked together and Peter tried not to ruin whatever they were making. Tony worked most of the day a few floors down and Peter stayed in the workshop, working on his personal projects or studying. He’d put together an easy, healthy lunch and he’d head down to Tony’s office so they could eat together everyday. Sometimes they only had fifteen minutes before the older man had to get back to work, some other times they even had enough time for some fun before eating.

They started going out together publicly and the press went wild, but they didn’t really mind. They went to functions together, helped at May’s charity events, had dinner at fancy restaurants or at Burger King, whatever felt right at the moment. Tony took it upon himself to dress Peter up, declaring himself the most stylish out of the two of them, he always picked the (matching) outfits they’d wear to go out in public, which was why Peter’s last day home before summer was over was so ironic.

He had just finished doing laundry when Tony walked through the door, limping slightly and wincing. Peter dropped the basket of clean clothes he was carrying to their room and rushed to his side.

“What happened? Are you okay?” He asked worriedly, looking Tony all over. He seemed fine, didn’t smell of blood or anything, but Peter hadn’t turned on the TV or checked his phone all day, he could have gotten in trouble as Iron Man and he wouldn’t know – although, FRIDAY would probably tell him.

“Nah, I’m fine, it’s just these new shoes, they’ve been killing me all day long.” He winced as he leaned on the wall to take them off and Peter stared at the expensive leather shoes with a frown.

“I told you they weren’t comfortable enough for work, these are obviously party shoes, you’re not supposed to spend a whole day on your feet in them,” he chastised, as Tony sighed in relief, slumped against the wall with his eyes closed when his feet were free.

“And I told you there’s no such thing as party shoes and work shoes.” Tony opened his eyes to narrow them at Peter when the younger man crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well, I guess I was right, then, huh?” He smirked, raising an eyebrow, and Tony laughed.

“Yes, I guess you were. As usual.” He rolled his eyes and opened his arms. “Be a good boy and come kiss it better.”

“I really shouldn’t, you stubborn ass. You’re lucky you look so hot in that suit.” He dragged his eyes over Tony’s body and felt the blood rush south. Tony was 51, and just like fine wine, he only seemed to get better over time. He approached the older man and let him hold him, burying his face in his neck, where he placed a soft kiss.

“You smell like fabric softener, were you doing laundry?” Tony muttered against the top of his head and Peter nodded, feeling the older man’s arms tighten around him. “Are you packed yet?”

“Not yet, I’ll do it later, maybe after dinner. Are you hungry?” He snuggled closer to the other man and felt him nod against his head. “FRI, our Saturday usual.” The AI didn’t even answer, sensing the quietness of them room, and they stayed there by the door for a few more minutes. “Are you stalling because you don’t think you can walk to the couch, old man?” Peter whispered after he almost fell asleep with his nose buried in the other’s neck.

“Shut up, brat,” Tony grunted, pushing the younger man away softly, eliciting giggles from him. “No, but seriously, don’t you ever let me walk out of the house wearing those again.” He huffed, pushing away from the wall to start limping towards the couch. “Actually, remind me to burn them or something.”

“Well, I did try to stop you this morning, you big baby, you never listen to me.” Peter rolled his eyes, watching with amusement as Tony tried to make his way to the living room. He picked up Tony’s shoes then went back to get the basket he’d dropped earlier and headed to their bedroom. “Stay put, I’m just gonna put these away, then I can give you a massage.”

“I love you forever!” Tony shouted from the living room as Peter disappeared down the hallway.

“I know!”

When Peter got back to the living room, Tony was lying on the couch, no suit jacket, no tie and with pretty much all of his shirt’s buttons undone. He had and arm thrown over his eyes and was snoring softly. Peter smiled with fondness and decided to make some tea as they waited for dinner – Tony used to hate tea, but they were trying to cut down on caffeine, mostly because the older man’s doctors thought it might help with his insomnia and maybe even with the nightmares.

He made chamomile tea and grabbed a bottle of massage oil from the bathroom, when he got back to the living room, he watched Tony sleeping peacefully for a while, it was such a rare occurrence, Peter was always asleep before him – he was afraid to ask Friday how many hours of sleep the man got each night. It was nice to see him so calm and relaxed, he was always on top of everything, trying to fix anything he thought was wrong with the world, even when it wasn’t needed.

He sat on the opposite end of the couch and put Tony’s legs on his lap; he stirred slightly but didn’t wake up. Peter took off his socks and dripped some of the oil on his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up. As soon his applied pressure to the sole of his right foot, Tony startled awake, moaning.

“Oh, fuck, right there, baby.” He arched his back, clearly in pain, but the good kind of pain. “Ooh, I really needed this.”

“Good thing we don’t have neighbors.” Peter smirked, letting his thumbs slide all the way down to the arch of his foot, then up to his sole again. Tony grunted, but said nothing smart back, truly enthralled by the massage. “You look tired, did something happen? Besides the bad shoes.”

“Nah, just the usual bullshit. There was a board meeting today, but it was short. Then I had a meeting with a few investors, that was long as fuck, even Pepper was pissed by the end of it. Then I headed back to R&D to see if I could get some work done, but not really. So just basically a lot of walking around with pain, both physical and psychological, ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking that you’re gonna leave tomorrow and I should be spending your last day here with you.” He pouted slightly and reached one of his hands to rub Peter’s arm. “I’m really sorry, love, I really wish I could have stayed.”

“It’s just one day, Tones, we had a great summer.” Peter grinned, lifting his foot to place a kiss on the bridge, then made circular motions on Tony’s sole and the ball of his foot, where it seemed to hurt the most by the sounds he made. “Drink your tea.” When Tony started complaining, he pressured his arch a bit harder, making him yelp. “None of that, mister, we agreed we’d try this, didn’t we? When I’m gone, you have to promise me you’ll keep it up. And only one cup of coffee a day, okay? No more than that, I mean it.”

“Yes, mom.” The older man smirked, poking Peter’s ribs with his foot, but the young man grabbed it before he could tickle him. He glared at him sternly, resuming the massage, moving his fingers up to his heel and ankle.

“If you act like a baby, I’ve gotta act like your mom.” Peter rolled his eyes, hearing the other man chuckle.

“Is it weird that I find it hot when you mother-hen me? Does that mean I have a mommy kink? Since you call me daddy in bed, should I call you mommy?” He pretended to wonder out loud and Peter burst out laughing, shaking his head in exasperation.

“You’re impossible, Tony Stark.” He smiled fondly at his older boyfriend, finishing the massage by rubbing his toes one by one, before moving to the other foot.

“You like it.” He wiggled his eyebrows with a smirk, but Peter just kept smiling at him.

“I love it.”

They fell silent as Peter moved his hands over Tony’s left foot. It was established early in their relationship that Peter gave great massages, his super-strength and super-soft hands were the perfect combination for a good kneading. Whenever they came home from battle battered and bruised, Peter would rub Tony’s back, his feet, his calves – not many people knew that, but operating the Iron Man suit actually required a lot of strength and it often put a strain on Tony’s body.

“Come here, baby,” Tony called him quietly once he was done with his left foot and Peter went willingly, snuggling to his chest and trying to make himself as small as possible in order to fit against the older man. “I’m really gonna miss you, love.”

“I know, I’m gonna miss you, too, Tony, so much. You have no idea,” Peter whispered back, nosing the other’s throat, smelling what was left of his cologne and aftershave, a smell he grew so used to it made him calm and relaxed.

“I think I do.” He felt Tony smile against the crown of his had and he sighed.

“Just one more year, okay?” He raised his head so he could look at the older man’s face. He looked back at him, smiling softly. Tony held his chin and kissed his lips gently as he nodded.

“Just one more year,” he agreed, and they fell silent again, Peter’s head back to resting on his chest. “Next summer, when you come back for good – will you – where are you staying?“

“Are you preemptively kicking me out?” He asked, amused, moving again to look at the older man, who frowned at him.

“Of course not!” He sighed, closing his eyes for a few seconds, before focusing on his face again “Peter, I really want you to move in with me, but are you sure you wanna do this? Baby, you’re so young, you could –“

“Don’t ruin this, Tony.” He placed a finger on his lips, beaming. “I wanna remember today as the day you asked me to move in. Don’t taint it with one your speeches about how I should be sleeping around with college boys.”

“That’s not what –“ The older man started indignantly and Peter laughed, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Shh, just shut up and kiss me, that’s all I wanna remember.” He didn’t give Tony time to answer as he leaned in and crushed their lips together. For a few seconds, the older man still tried to protest, but soon melted into the kiss, hands sliding down Peter’s back to hold him close. When they parted, Tony had a slightly confused look.

“So, what just happened is I asked you to move in and you said yes?” Peter grinned, nodding excitedly, and the older man chuckled, petting his curls fondly. “You do realize that your future involves a lot of foot rubs and back massages, right? You’re basically marrying an old man.”

“I think I can handle that, I have strong, steady hands, so we’re good.” He closed the distance between them again, tasting Tony’s laugh on his lips as he closed his eyes, thinking that was a very small price to pay.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark #ironspider

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omgviolette12 · 5 years ago

Text

After Hours - Chapter 13

Previous Chapter

Summary: After sex, comes the bliss... right?

Chapters: 13/?

Words: 2800+

Warnings: None

Tags: @milkymaidme @dangertoozmanykids101@alexakeyloveloki @little-moonbeam-666 @marvel-ous-fics@clovermariear@lynnesm@bitchyikes@moon-child-of-a-poet, @allthecraftandthings@bubblegumspitt @shockwavee @blondekel77 @nerd–nirvana @valdemarismynonbinarylove@nightrose64 @pastelhexmaniac @iistormii

If you’d like to be added, let me know. I’ve also posted this on AO3

A/N: Sorry for the delay, still in the midst of final projects. Motivation to complete work/writing has been a bit slow, and I’ve been trying to think up new plot points. I’ve been stuck, lol. Anyway, enjoy!

----------------------------

Evelyn should’ve expected this, but she had no idea that she would be this sore.

After the shower, they both became somewhat insatiable. It was as though Loki couldn’t get enough of her, and she of him. The taboo of their relationship spurred on their lust, the need to be connected to each other in every way possible great. So like he had promised, he fucked her into the late hours of the night.

While she was grateful that her first time was far from terrible...she made a mental note to learn her limits. She thought the idea of getting fucked silly by the man she pined for would be a dream come true - but the effects on her body afterwards was kind of a bitch.

Evelyn hopped and limped all the way to Loki’s car when they left his house early in the morning, wincing with every step. She attributed the amount of pain she was in due to the fact that she was simply not used to sex, and her professor’s size was considerable.

Perhaps the more they did it, the less pain there would be overtime?

Just the thought of a ‘next time’ in Loki’s bed was enough to set off another wave of butterflies inside her stomach. Whatever pain she was in right now, it was worth it.

Loki, however, had long noticed Evelyn’s plight - in fact, he even had the gall to tease her about it, offering to carry her up the steps to her door like a princess once they reached her apartment.

He sounded pretty serious about it too, so Evelyn couldn't help but blush even though she knew he was just messing around. It was going to be a challenge getting used to his playful side…

Evelyn promised him that she'd stop by his office later on in the day, to resume her duties as his TA. Since she wouldn’t be able to attend the Monday lecture to help out this time around for obvious reasons, the least she could do was grade some exams.

She dreaded grading, especially since it was math( another reason why she skipped meetings in the beginning…) but now that the dynamic between her and Loki has changed considerably, she was actually looking forward to being productive in his presence.

They parted with a kiss, and Evelyn made her way to her apartment door slowly. Now, she just had to try to walk inside like there wasn't a stick up her ass.

To Evelyn’s surprise and dismay, Candice was waiting for her on the couch, a cup of hot cocoa in hand as she watched her hop through the front door.

Evelyn was secretly banking on the fact that she had left for work already, since Candice mentioned offhandedly that she took up more shifts at her hospital.

But alas, the shit-eating grin that was plastered on Candice’s face meant that she must’ve called in sick to witness Evelyn’s limp of shame, first thing.

“Well! I’ll be damned,”

Evelyn stubbornly ignored her in embarrassment as she limped past the couch to head to her room, but Candice set down her mug to follow her, giggling like a fool, “He busted that cherry so hard he got you hoppin’ like a bunny! Sheesh...”

"Not now, Candice…" Her face felt hot, desperately wishing her sister had some sort of filter.

"Did y'all use a rubber? Did he hurt you? Because if he hurt you Eve -"

Candice was going to badger her until all was answered, so Evelyn relented with a grimace, hoping she would leave her alone after she was satisfied,

“ No! He didn’t hurt me...and yes, we used protection. Each time.”

“Each ti- each time?! How many times did y’all fu- ”

Evelyn cut her off before she could finish, “I’ll answer all the juicy deets later, okay!? I didn’t have time to shower before we left, and I wanna do that now. Please?”

Candice realized she was being a bit overbearing, backing off a bit. Evelyn was extremely fun to tease and make fun off, but she knew her sister had limits,

“Sorry, sorry. My baby sister never seemed the type to be interested in sex or anything before...so to do it with a professor of all people for your first time! And a kinky one! Don’t blame me for being interested and concerned...”

Evelyn ignored the kinky comment, limping inside her room as she replied, “I mean, is the professor thing really that big a deal? I’m technically just a former student of his...”

“Not really, you already know how my hoe phase was. Fucked a few teachers in my college days. But you have to be careful with these older men Eve, since you’re new to this sort of thing. Don't get attached. Especially if his dick game’s good, he will manipulate the hell outta you,”

"...Speaking from experience?"

"Yep. Found out this guy was a whole married man and I still went back to fuck. Good dick messes with your morals sis,"

Evelyn had a hard time taking her words seriously since Candice lacked morals in the first place, but pretended to agree so she could leave her be,

"I'll make sure to be careful, okay? Can I shower now?"

"Yeah yeah, we'll talk more later. Remember what I said, hmm?"

And with that, Candice left her room with a skip to her step.

Evelyn didn’t bother processing her sister’s warning, going straight to the shower to relieve her sore muscles.

--------------------------------

By the time Evelyn made her way unto the campus, the pain had lessened considerably. She still had to walk a bit carefully, but she didn’t feel as raw as before. While she showered, she also noticed bruises alongside her hip and waist - she even had to use more than a bit of makeup to cover the new ones Loki had ‘affectionately’ placed in plain sight on her neck.

She was especially hard to bruise, so she was baffled at the amount she currently had.

Evelyn thought that she should at least feel miffed about it, but somehow the thought of being marked as his, in any way, sent a thrill through her being. Even when he was rough at some points...

I had sex just once and I’m already a deviant…hehe.

Evelyn was quite busy daydreaming about the naughty events from last night, that she didn’t see the tall figure standing in her way as she headed towards Loki’s office.

‘Oof!’

As expected, she collided straight into the person’s side, yelping in the process.

“Oh shit - I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention…”

She looked up apologetically at the woman in front of her - lithe and pale, with narrowed blue eyes that accentuated her intimidating presence.

Perhaps because she also had dark hair and sharp facial features, she saw a vague resemblance to Loki.

“Obviously, you weren’t,” the woman replied curtly, before giving a tight smile,

“But, I’ll forgive you if you were to lend some assistance.”

Her tone carried a sort of cold arrogance, as Evelyn shrunk underneath her stare. She even had Loki’s accent…

“Uh...of course! How can I help…?” Although she was in a bit of a rush to get to where she needed to be, she did not want the woman in front of her to be any more pissed off than she already seemed to look.

She showed Evelyn a map of the campus that was in her hands, pointing at the building she wanted to head to, “This map is much too complicated for me, and I’m trying to look for this building. I need to find someone, and this is where his office is apparently.”

“Oh, I’m actually heading there!” Evelyn was glad that the woman pointed towards the science department - the campus was fairly large, and she barely knew half of the map. “If you don’t mind me asking, who’re you trying to find? I can show you to them directly…”

She didn’t have to go the extra mile, merely walk with her to the building. But Evelyn had always been a people pleaser.

“Ah, I’m looking for my brother. Are you a student of his, perhaps? I do know that he teaches here…Loki Odinson. Or Laufeyson, whatever he wants to go by nowadays.”

“Brother? You’re Loki’s sister?” Evelyn asked in a surprised tone, voice elevated. He did mention he two had siblings during their date, but he never went into detail about anything.

The woman looked at her oddly, a small chuckle leaving her lips, “Well, you certainly sound quite familiar with him.”

Evelyn realized her mistake, hastily rushing to fix it. Loki was fine with Candice knowing everything, but she still wasn’t sure about his side of the family.

“Oh, about that...I usually just call all the professors by their names, haha…”

“My brother really dislikes being referred to in an informal manner, so I find the idea of him allowing that unlikely.”

“.....”

Evelyn was momentarily speechless, akin to a deer in headlights.

“Uhm, you see, I -“

“No need to explain,” the woman stepped closer, a bit too close for comfort as she scrutinized Evelyn’s face, “You’re his exact type, you know. Short, timid, pretty. He’s probably quite taken with you...”

As she looked her up and down, a spark of realization lit her eyes..

“Miss...you’re stepping out of line here.”

She was assuming way too much, for just a minor slip up. And who spoke like this to someone they just met?

“Oh, It's just harmless teasing,” she stepped back, her smile starting to look a lot more natural.

She pulled out her hand for a handshake, “ Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Hela. Hela Odinson. And you?”

Evelyn gave a momentary look of reluctance before accepting the handshake, “Uhm, Evelyn Monroe. Nice to meet you, I guess?”

Hela’s smile became broader, “Let’s walk and talk, hmm?”

Evelyn was very uncomfortable, but started to walk regardless.

As they made their way towards Loki’s office, Hela, surprisingly, insisted on making small talk. Evelyn pegged her for the cold and silent type like her brother, but she was entirely the opposite. She asked general questions about what Evelyn did, her age, etc. But unfortunately, she also kept asking suggestive questions, hoping for another slip up on her end.

“I haven’t spoken to my brother in a while, so I’m clueless as to how he’s doing. Does he treat you well, Evelyn?”

Hela began adopting a familiar and warmer tone, softening Evelyn’s first impression. It succeeded in lulling her into a sense of minor comfort, “Oh, he treats me very well. I mean, he’s pretty nice to all of his students, most times...”

“Hm, that’s surprising. His personality is treacherous, so I expected the opposite.”

Evelyn looked at her quizzically. For his sister, she sure spoke like she disliked him to a large degree.

“Since I like you, I’ll give you a bit of advice,”

Hela turned to look at her then, meeting her eyes,

“Don’t get too attached to a man like Loki, especially if he thinks you’re a temporary plaything. He gets... annoyed, quite easily. You weren't the only one he happened to fancy so much in the past...so I'd know.”

….?!??

“Excuse me, but what -“ Evelyn started, but then the dark, pissed off voice of her professor sounded from behind them.

“Hela,”

His face was pulled into a tight scowl, trained directly at his sister, “ What nonsense are you spewing?”

Loki appeared behind them suddenly out of thin air, startling the wits out of Evelyn. Before she could ponder the possibility that he had magical powers, she realized they just passed the lecture hall where his class was, on the way to his office.

“I took time out of my busy schedule to see you, dear brother...one would think you’d sound a bit more affectionate. Hasn't it been a year since we last spoke?”

“Slither back to whatever hell you came from, woman.”

“Well, I suppose that’s close enough.”

Evelyn looked back and forth between the two, the tension thick and uncomfortable. They were in the middle of the hallway and students still wandered about, so she decided to make an exit. She wanted no part in whatever mystery family drama that was unfolding...and she needed time to ponder over Hela’s words.

I’ll ask just him about this later...

“So...um. I’m gonna go ahead to the office, okay? Grade those papers...yippee…”

She added awkwardly, slowly backing away.

Loki looked at her then. She hoped his face would soften a bit, but it didn’t.

“I’ll be there shortly. This won’t take long.”

His answers were short and clipped, so she knew he was pissed.

She didn’t do anything wrong to her knowledge, so she blamed his mood all on his sister.

Before Evelyn left, Hela addressed her one last time.

“It was lovely meeting you, sweetheart. I’m sure we’ll see each other again…”

“Oh. Uhm, yeah. Nice meeting you too…”

Evelyn didn’t waste anymore time, leaving the pair once she saw Loki’s worsening expression.

---------------------

Hela’s words from before repeated inside her head, filling her with a sense of paranoia. But, she had no reason to be paranoid, right? Loki said they were exclusive, after all. He said he wanted her to be his woman. No, she was his woman. And he made sure of that last night.

Evelyn stubbornly pushed her anxieties aside into the far crevice of her mind, reassuring herself with his words. Although Hela was his sister, she and Loki clearly weren’t on good terms. She could’ve said that in order to sabotage their suspected relationship.

God, this is giving me a damn headache...

She settled in Loki's office, taking the stack of exams from his desk and got comfortable on the couch. She hoped grading and correcting complicated equations would fry her brain enough to stop the fretting, as she waited for him to come.

Loki appeared after about fifteen minutes, and Evelyn bolted upright once she heard him enter.

“Oh, Loki! I went ahead and started…”

She paused mid sentence when she saw his expression.

“...Grading…”

Why did it feel like she was in some sort of trouble? The heck?

His face didn’t change much from when he spoke to Hela, so it made her nervous.

Evelyn just opted to stay quiet for now. She’d ask about Hela later once he looked a little less pissed off. She was his girlfriend now, but she still felt his authoritative presence especially when they were on campus.

Well, she was going to stay quiet, until his deep voice resounded inside the room.

“I'm curious about something, Evelyn.”

Uh oh. Why's he using that voice?

"How did that...woman, know that we were involved with each other?"

"Uh...woman? I mean, I thought she said she was your sister…?"

"That isn't the answer to my question."

Inwardly, Evelyn felt whiplashed. Everything was so dandy this morning and last night...so how did things take such a strange turn so quickly?

"Look, when she told me she was your sister, I said your first name on impulse. That's literally it! She assumed stuff based on that one thing…"

Evelyn put the papers on her lap to the side, feeling frustrated, "And…it really isn't that big a deal, right? You said that people outside the school could know. You were fine with Candice knowing, so why not -"

He cut her off before she could finish,

"Darling, let me say this in a way that you can comprehend,"

In...in a way that I can comprehendddd? Did he just call me stupid eloquently?

Evelyn was stunned into silence as Loki spoke, and he moved to stand above her as she sat rigidly on the couch. "Such a simple mistake, regardless of who it was, is monumental. Your words weren't what gave you away, Evelyn. But your body language. You're entirely too expressive for your own good,"

He sighed a disappointed sigh, moving away to pinch the bridge of his nose, "At any rate, I can live with Hela knowing...but for future reference, avoid her. At all costs."

Loki looked at her then, eyes stern, "Do you understand what I'm saying? Or should I elaborate further?"

Evelyn was honestly a bit speechless. She felt extremely put off and mildly hurt… that he spoke to her like she was a child, rather than his lover.

She really hated herself right now. Was she actually about to cry? He would seriously think she was childish, if this was how she was going to react.

Tears wouldn’t do her any favors, especially once he was in this kind of mood anyway.

Why am I so fucking sensitive?!

She sighed shakily, swallowing the knot in her throat as she replied, "Yeah...I got it."

"Good, then."

He moved casually to sit behind his desk, attempting to soften his tone with his next words, "You can work for maybe half an hour, then I'd like to treat you to dinner. Seeing that woman left an unpleasant taste… but spending more time with you should remedy that."

She didn't reply, and only stared at the floor.

"... Evelyn?"

When she glanced up, he saw that her large, hazel eyes were shimmering with unshed tears.

”I’m... I’m going to use the restroom, okay? I’ll be back,”

She got up quickly. And before he could properly react, she promptly went to exit the room.

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A/N: Your thoughts bring me joy, I greatly appreciate each and every one! Please let me know what you thought :)

#Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston #loki fic #professor loki

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imchangkyuns · 5 years ago

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hi everyone!! it's your local hyungkyun enthusiast rachel!! so i somehow (???) hit 5.5k a while ago and i just wanted to say thank you to everyone who follows me for supporting my gifs/gfx, even though i’m not as active anymore ♡

anyways i really wanted to take this time to do a moot appreciation to all the lovely people that i follow!! i don’t follow a lot so this ff is kind of small but i want to shower you all with love!! a lot of the people i knew when i first started this blog are gone, so y’all are the real heroes - thank you angels for filling my dash up with all the good mx content! it’s a little long but i wanted to write about each of you so please bear with me hehe

@bluehairjooheon | n..... you make some of the best gifs (all the great jooheon content thank u!) and i love love seeing you on my dash bc your tags are also so fun to read (lol) + i can’t imagine all the work you’ve put into making podsta x come to life, you’re.. royalty

@calemiel | emy, you’re one of my fav multifandom blogs! your colouring on your gifs is always so sexy and nice and your edits are truly the cutest thing ever :(

@chachayeon | hi nicole! i can’t believe you follow me on this blog too lol but i’m glad!! god i love all my multi stans and i adore how friendly and lovely as a human you are!

@changkyuns | arin, you radiate so much positivity and cuteness and i love seeing kyunbebes on my dash!! also your url is godly and all your graphics are the cutest n cleanest thing! truly queen

@ckyun | hi nat!! i don’t know if you’ll ever see this but you were probably the og kyunbebe from when i first made this blog?? i miss seeing your content bc you rly did have the most godly graphics and i hope you’re doing well!

@coups | hi sally! you make the cuuuuutest edits and the colouring on your gifs is always the softest ever!! i love seeing all the content you produce, thank you for feeding my multi ass heart!

@dearmingki | romi you’re a fake monbebe smh (hehe) but thank you for providing all the good ateez content!! when we first became moots, you were still a mx blog but now that you’re also an atiny i’m v v glad! so happy to have you providing all the good mingi content

@hyungkyun | cristina, your tags are so fuckin funny sometimes i lose my mind, also your gifs are wonderful!! i love the moments you always choose to gif and thank you for making so much changkyun content!!

@hyunqheon | hi hi! i haven’t seen you on my dash in a while so i hope everything is okay with you! i love that you post a lil abt everything including girl groups bc it’s rly nice n refreshing to see!

@hyxngwons | agnes i really have to say we’re hive mind.. i think we stan all the same groups hehe... anyways! you’re such a sweet person and i love love all your content bc the colouring and topaz is always so beautiful!!

@insmiles | lauren! honestly.. feels like i’ve been following you forever and we’re moots on like 3 (?) of my blogs lol, you’re the one who feeds me the most with all my fav groups and thank you for always bringing my attention to new/underrated groups!

@jookyun | shrad ugh my good kyunbebe gal sorry i’m so terrible at keeping in touch i hope you’ve been doing well! you’re a little angel but also so so funny and i love talking to you! thank you for reaching out to me when we first became moots, you truly are.. Angel!

@kihyunslips | hi lovely!! feel i like followed you back in mar 2017 when i made this blog, thank you for being so active and keeping up w all the mx content + good text posts and memes hehe

@minhyukie | hi amy! honestly think i followed u when i saw someone rb ur selfies n i was like. is this. Angel? u are so so funny and your love for minhyuk is so so pure! you’re one of my fav gifmakers so thank you for always gifing all the good content w the cutest colouring, hope you’re taking care of yourself!

@mxluv | cheryl! you make such lovely content and i’m so glad the fandom (read: me) has you! i always adore the colouring you do on your gifs as well!

@naekkung | dani.. how long have we been moots... so long.. you’re one of my fav people on here and so so friendly to everyone and i adore you! ur multi ass out there stanning all the good bgs and ggs too, love that.. thank you for spreading so much love and good content.. truly heavenly cc.. your graphics. chefs kiss

@nubebe | fucking no offense but i’m a fool and only realized days later... i can’t believe i FORGOT U bitch someone kill me! anyways going back to write this even though u may never see it bc :( kei every graphic u make is honestly the sexiest and loveliest thing ever, you have SUCH a galaxy brain and are so so talented and i adore u and all ur creations!!! anyways feel free to slide into my dms and kill me in one shot for forgetting u bc ur truly one of my favourite ccs on tumblr!

@showbebe | yoelin baby!! can’t believe you knew me from my mx blog and then i migrated into the fantasy world and you were there again... that’s Fate. you’re such a sweetheart and so so enjoyable to see - i know you’ve been busy lately but i hope life has been treating you well!

@spookiheon | amanda, you truly say some of the funniest things that crack me up.. i think you’re the earliest mx blog i followed that’s still active here so wow ur the true number 1 of tumblr user changkyunned’s heart

@sunnpils | i honestly feel like i’ve been following you forever sam haha, thank you for making gifs for so many groups, esp the rose!! i feel like i never see them enough

@thekihyun | amanda... ur probably like. The OG mx blog i followed i feel like it’s been so long since i clicked that lil follow button.. you’re probably one of my favourite ccs on here and all the gifs you make are always of the funniest content

@wonsheon | lissa!! you always provide w the good mx content n i didn’t realize u also liked sf9 too?? you’re so pure and i love that you’re also multi hehe i hope you had a nice time on your vacation!

@wonstal | hi angel!! please do drop your name in my dms sometime.. i’m dying to know! your gifs are always the top tier quality and i’m so happy you’re not into skz too!! your colouring is always the softest and cutest + your topaz settings!! thank you for always blessing me w your god-tier gifs

@yoonqiful | ash!! you’re a lovely human being and so friendly, can’t believe you sucked me into the hole of long haired hyungwon :( all of your gifs are really lovely and i adore seeing them!

@17dad | not sure why you follow me gen... you’re one of my fav svt blogs, thank you for always bringing so much content of them onto my dash!

@190629seonghwa | nat.. why do u even follow me on this BLOG LOL anyways i adore you, adore all your mx content, adore how sweet and friendly and loving you are and think u are a goddess.. queen of providing all the good hq ateez & seonghwa (satan) gifs

#ANYWAYS. . whew #thats done i love all of u thank u for blessing my dash!!!!!#this is long n a LOT but!#hope ur all doing well 💞#rachel.txt #*ff #alphabetical order from a -> z then numbers!#anyways sorry im bad @ interacting and being active here but!!#i rly rly hope i didnt forget anyone :'( if we r moots then i definitely did so pls tell me

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mummybear · 5 years ago

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Get To Know Me Game

I was tagged by @princessmisery666 - Thank you for the tag lovely :) P.s sorry if my tags aren’t working tumblr is being a doof.....

Rule is to tag 21 people you wanna get to know better.

Nickname: Okay so we have..... Bun, Chel, Chels, Chelsea Bun, Smelsey - Courtesy of my delightful sister oh and of course - Cock womble - courtesy of @deanwanddamons Thank you for that one Sian :P

Real name: Chelsea

Zodiac: Leo :)

Favourite musicians or bands: So basically if i were to put them all i would be here forever.... so I’ll just stick to a few.... Ed Sheeran, Fall Out Boy, Demi Lovato, Michael Jackson, Pink, Rihanna, Blue, Carrie Underwood, Usher, Christina Aguilera, Little Mix, Maroon 5, Shawn Mendes, Tori Kelly, Adele, Ne-yo, Jason Derulo, Evanescence, Eminem, McFly, Lonely Island, Anastacia, Shania Twain, Kelly Clarkson.... As i said i could go on hahaha

Favorite sports team: Don’t really do sports full stop honestly i cannot stand them in anyway shape or form

Other blogs: Just this one!

Do I get asks: From a couple of mutuals, but other than that no.

How many blogs do I follow: Not as many as i used to.... 180 something i think

Tumblr crushes: Now this is gonna be another long one..... @holyhellpit @dylanholyhellobrien My girl Michelle we clicked so many years ago now and i love you still to this day one of my favourite people. @deanwanddamons My girl we haven’t been talking that long but we became good friends really fast and i love you loads! :P @negans-lucille-tblr So happy we started talking! Even if it hasn’t been for too long, we got on straight away and i love it! i did totally fan girl as well! haha :P you’re awesome though babe and now the conversations Sian you and I have are down right legendary. @lettersofwrittencollective @stiles-o-dylan24 @nicole-lynne @mrs-mitch-rapp93 Talking to you girls is always amazing! and you’ve always been there for me with all of our Dylan and Dean chat! :) Nat, Ellie, Nicole, and of course Val, love you little stunners so much!! @22sarah08 You are so freaking sweet and i couldn’t not mention you my lovely! Always checking in on me and worrying about me! Love to you as well!! Last but certainly not least @screamxqueenx94 Brooklyn! I love you! You’re so strong and amazing! And every single one of you are incredibly talented and i feel proud to be able to call you my friends i am a little in pain right now so I apologise if most of this makes no sense ;)

Lucky numbers: 3

What am I wearing: Fluffy Socks, My Dean Winchester is my hero plaid pj bottoms and supernatural top ..... yes sorry guys i am really that obsessed haha

Dream vacation: Anywhere really..... maybe Canada family connections and all

Dream car: Not sure my dream car would be any good for my kids but gotta be boring and say a lambo or a Ferrari

Favorite food: Pizza, chocolate and crisps and fruit if i could eat it lol

Drink of choice: Pepsi max cherry or Dr Pepper

Instruments: I play none lol

Languages: English.

Celebrity crushes: Jesus hahaha am i ever gonna post this here we go then.... Jensen Ackles, Dylan O’brien, Ian Somerhalder, Ryan Reynolds, Emeraude Toubia, Claire Holt, Anna Kendrick, Adam Levine, Mila Kunis, Chris Hemsworth, Zac Effron mainly in hairspray haha imma stop now :P

Random facts: I just had my thyroid removed so that was fun.... and i have two little kiddies who i’m mad about. And I am obsessed with Wispa gold (the chocolate lol)

(Sorry i know some of you ladies may have done already) My tags: @deanwanddamons @dylanholyhellobrien @negans-lucille-tblr @lettersofwrittencollective @holyhellpit @stiles-o-dylan24 @22sarah08 @littlegreenplasticsoldier @nicole-lynne @holylulusworld @kittenofdoomage @impala-dreamer @beka-dreamer @there-must-be-a-lock @thoughtslikeaminefield @mrswhozeewhatsis @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @mrscutiefandobhaz @writingsbychlo @emichelle @rockhoochie

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fatebreaking-a · 5 years ago

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Tagged by : I am a thief. ( Stolen from @starthieve ) Tagging : steal it from me.

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

( I will not, I will pick all my muses, how dare- I’ll leave everything except this blog + my other Sona blog out, for length’s sake.) long post, so it’s under the cut.

My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES-ish / NO. ( people who like her like her, and people who don’t... really don’t. )

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK.

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK.

Are they underrated? YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO / MAYBE ?

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO / MAYBE ?

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

How strictly do you follow canon? — lol. I take inspiration from canon, let’s put it that way.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals. — Your local patron saint of lost causes, a heroic entity who has overcome betrayal and judgement to become an existence that can save the world. Also she’s tall and strong and hot and nice, what more could you want? Huh? You want more than being hugged by a 6′4″ lady??? Sona can also be in various countries, and can participate very easily in fluff, angst, and all sorts of other types of threads.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?). — Lots of angst and drama, a bit of a loner with a distant vibe. Having no etwahl and not playing music kills the interest and ‘usual interactions’ for a lot of people, and being mute & not jumping to telepathy can make threads dry and slow. Being a ‘sexy boob lady’ ( u g h ) also has painted her in a certain light - I’ll never forget that someone said that ‘ofc everyone ships with Sona, she’s the village bicycle.’ I’ve made her exceptionally strong ( almost overpowered ), and that doesn’t jive with people sometimes - shoving in all these themes that I personally like and crafting an interesting story of a divine / demonic seer witch who doesn’t know what to do with herself, is finally ‘too strong’, and finds power distasteful... The themes can be a little depressing and cold, even when she acts nice. And seeing “Even though she feels nothing, she still acts nice” in character can feel... tiring. A mute is not an easy person to write with, and I don’t shy away from trying to give the impression that ‘waiting for Sona to communicate can be tiring’ - because I want my readers and mutuals to feel the kinds of things she goes through everyday. While I try to make the blog accessible, Sona has a speech disability, and that can be tiring.

Also that she doesn’t act like a fancy noble... I don’t know. I feel like the way that I write her is very, very different to the fandom’s impression of her, and that leaves people disillusioned. “This isn’t what I expected or signed up for.” She’s just not that person... And because she doesn’t speak, a lot of prompts are off limits. I’ve also recently reset because I wanted to emphasize that she is patient, grim, and secretive while still being kind. I’ve toned down her tendency for mischief a lot, she used to be an absolute gremlin.

A lot of these things also apply to my other Sona blog ( @virtuous-dignity ), where she is extremely structured and self-confident and a bit of a recluse, so while she’s much much nicer, she’s also a complete hardass. It’s rough stuff, especially since I make sure to point out, “hey this Sona practices music over 8 hours every day.” “Hey this Sona finds it morally wrong to play music for small audiences.” There are certain traits that just cut ideas in the bud.

What inspired you to rp your muse? — I played Sona a lot in bot lane. Multiple years of sexist remarks, shitty writing, and bad characterization made me frustrated. A lot of things were left unexplained and the etwahl felt like too much of a focus that I could not answer, “who is Sona besides a musician with a fancy instrument”. She has to be someone, right? But we never get to that in the story ( nor in the apparent upcoming lore rework either... ). She has to be someone, her being a famous musician is not everything. So I forcibly tossed aside the music part, especially to also prevent accidentally being pulled into ‘your music is so pretty’ plots. Plus: I wanted to write a character with an internal conflict who was going through some things but wanted to be nice anyway - I believe in that idea a lot. And I wanted to write a character that, tbh, could ship and flirt and just... be flirty and easy going more ( hah! didn’t work out so great now! ). My first canon characters were a ‘left by the void Malz’ dealing with his sins and Ori, who I talk about below, and neither were really great for getting that flirty vibe out. I also really wanted to emphasize that... Well, to be blunt, that if I wrote Sona as sexually promiscuous, that wasn’t a bad thing. That ‘being sexy’ and ‘sex positive’ did not equal ‘objectified tiddy witch’ and ‘perfect candidate for oppai mouse pad’ and other things I’ve heard directed at me in my league experience. Many, many things. Ugh. It kind of did end up turning into a thing where Sona herself draws an interesting line between ‘haha I can tell everyone’s looking at me with those eyes and it’s the fucking worst’ and ‘ok but I trust you and am in bed with you, so I want you to grab me’ - but that’s getting more into ns/fw topics so I’ll leave it there.

What keeps your inspiration going? — All my characters tend to be expressions of myself, as well as answering important thematic questions, like “What does it mean to be rejected by your home and no longer have a place”, and some other stuff. I usually go back to that. Plus, exploring concepts around abandonment and loneliness is something I do a lot with her - feelings of neglect and disillusionment, and ideas surrounding “do I need to like someone or be liked by someone to treat them with dignity”. ( virtuous-dignity, on the other hand, was created because I wanted to write something as soft and uwu as possible, and then it turned into something about ‘balancing dignity for oneself with duty to others’ and handling those kinds of conflicts. )

I also really do enjoy, on some level, turning people around on these characters. “You made me care about character x” is such high praise.

My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO.

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK. ( idk, how many of you think robots are hot- )

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK. ( I think people downplay Ori’s intelligence a lot, but Riot also casually implied she did open heart surgery on herself so??? )

Are they underrated? YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO / MAYBE ?

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO / MAYBE ?

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

How strictly do you follow canon? — hahahahahahaha. hah. hah. Sorry. Everything I write is divergent by default.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals. — A genius inventor and cute spherical robot duo who speak to other robots and shoot lightning, run around acting cute, and try to save their city one step at a time - all while dealing with deep existential dread and fighting off a fate that decrees Ori’s death. Between ‘pancake bot’ and Ori being an accidental flirt, there’s plenty of variety and development here as my oldest canon muse. Not to mention that the blog ‘grows’ and ‘changes’, and in the last year, Ori has taken to dying her hair pink ( because Vi is cool is why, just don’t let her near a rifle or she’ll try to imitate Cait ). I also regularly think about / draw different hairstyles and clothing styles. Ori is very much ‘alive’, the most so out of the three muses on this blog. A human that has the memories of being a robot, trying to live on and live a good life. Also, there are bird, angel, and time themes. So many clocks. Mega clocks!

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?). — Deep angst and existential dread, because she knows her fate is to die and she’s cheated time. Themes of dysphoria and other troubling topics abound. Being stuck in time loops, thinking she’s an aberration, needing crutches because her legs stop working, etc.

Also, removing the fact that she is a robotic automaton is a bunch of the appeal of Ori. Or well, it’s what makes her character ‘interesting and unique’ to many. Without that, she is ‘yet another Zaunite’, as the thing that made her most interesting was her death and rebirth. ( Nevermind that her entire story is that she’s a selfless person but- I’m supposed to act like she’s bad, right? )

What inspired you to rp your muse? — Hey remember when institute of war was a thing? And then when it wasn’t? And Ori’s lore was “died to a turret shot trying to be a champion”... and then it was up in the air for two years?

That’s why. If no one else will love her, I will. She deserves better. And then the lore became close to my lore so I rewrote everything a second time trying to stick to the themes I had.

Ori’s thematic question is, “What do you do when you don’t recognize yourself anymore? How do you get back to ‘okay’ and what do you do from there?” It’s a pretty dim question that has a lot to do with body image, but also to do with abandonment and neglect, and just dropping out of people’s lives. I think that’s something that people can really relate to. I originally wrote her on a multi with a ‘post void Malz’, who was dealing with the trauma of being puppeted around for years and all the things he had done, trying to get back to ‘okay’ without getting killed. More below:

What keeps your inspiration going? — Themes as noted above, Ori is super cute, and a lot of my art & general ideas. I’ve kind of turned these three characters in borderline OCs and keep developing them as they grow... Sometimes I think the stories and concepts I’ve written have outgrown the fandom. And thinking about her, and how she would live, and what her story is... mmm.

Also, the themes I write... I think they matter. Maybe it’s not obvious to anyone but myself, but writing a character who feels dysphoria and hates their body for ‘betraying them’... is relatable. It’s not nice. It’s not simple. But it’s relatable and it matters. Ori’s theme on this blog has a lot to do with “fighting a fate that says you’re going to lose and defying expectations” as well as “coming back from something wicked and rotten in your psyche/body”. And I do write some other skin verses for her but they’re all adapted to meet that theme. ( For example, in SG, she rises to guardian after finding out she’s fated to become a dark star and fights that fight alone, because ‘hell no she’s not going to go dark’. This was 5+ years ago back when there were theories SG and DS were same universe. )

Mostly it’s writing about these themes of expectation and reality. Overprotective parent, absentee parent, dealing with trauma... All my writing is like that. It can make my characters seem overly tragic, yes, but these ideas are not so far gone that they’re completely irrelevant and beyond belief. I’m sure many people have experienced emotional exhaustion and problems with body image. Even though I do write ‘polite but ready to fight’ characters only... Well, I believe in exploring and expressing these kinds of problems. Inner conflict and all. But also fluff! Fluff is really nice! Talk to her about pancake robot.

I also really do enjoy, on some level, turning people around on these characters. “You made me care about character x” is such high praise.

My muse is: canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom? YES / NO. ( post rework??? oh my god )

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK.

Is your character considered strong in the fandom? YES / NO / IDK. ( hard to consider ‘martial’ characters strong when Xer/ath and Syn/dra exist )

Are they underrated? YES / NO. ( she’s a little overrated, isn’t she? )

Were they relevant for the main story? YES / NO / MAYBE ?

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world? YES / NO / MAYBE ?

How’s their reputation? GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

How strictly do you follow canon? — I still draw from old lore with her big four blades of doom and ‘reviving’ with the help of Raka ( though I leave it vague / easy to gloss over ). I also had a lot of ideas about music and rhythm and tradition before the update ( drums were a big thing for her, so strong percussive beats and motions reign over the more silk and ribbon dances that flow more, drawing on things like Zelos existing, Lito’s lessons & harsh behavior, and her own internalized habits of trying to calm herself ), so I draw on those a ton. For me, the progression is ‘classic’ -> ‘infiltrator / nightblade ‘ -> ‘aviator’ all as one timeline. Also wrote her as being ‘missing in action’, which makes the awaken cinematic weird. I also really try to emphasize that she’s an emotionally stunted wardog with scars and not ultra pretty, so.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals. — A world traveler and a wardog, you can find her anywhere, any time, ready to kick some butt and enjoy the local food. Her simmering fury is a counterpoint to her relatively muted demeanor and adventurous spirit. However you may find her, there’s a definite charm to being flown up above the clouds to watch a sunset and talk. She will fly you where you need to be.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?). — I’m a little stuck on old lore and writing Lia as a character that has “left behind” her past and is pretending to be dead does make certain interactions tough. She’s also a deeply stunted character, emotionally, and I write her ten years of experience as having chilled her to a cold, ever burning ember rather than a passionate flame. Also, ‘aviator’ is kind of weird to handle for a lot of people.

What inspired you to rp your muse? — This one is really simple. When this blog started, the only splash where Irelia was smiling was the aviator splash. That’s it. That as the whole reason. “I want her to be happy and have found her happiness.”

What keeps your inspiration going? — I will admit that Lia is the character that I give the least attention to out of these three, and part of it is because I don’t really do flirting or shipping with her as much. She’s not one to reach out to others, and there are a lot of popular Lia blogs to the point that when I, as a multi, write with someone... She probably isn’t the first pick.

But I just... want her to be happy. That’s it. As I mentioned with the Ori section, what I’ve worked out for her has kind of outgrown the fandom itself, she’s become a different entity. Her themes largely involve recovery and finding oneself anew, and writing a character that is passionate about others while still being cool-headed is some of the variety I need. Because Lia is ace/homosexual, she sits out on a lot of the flirty content, but the chances I get to write her being romantic and caring... my god. Just a few posts back and forth with @unholyshe ‘s Akali and a So/na I used to write with....... Unforgettable. ( On that note go follow @unholyshe what a good writer, gosh dang. ) It’s these small interactions I find intensely compelling, and having a ‘quiet intensity’ and really thinking about her body language...

Also it’s nice to write a character with little secret agenda, who is just straightforward. “Will I enjoy kissing you? Only one way to find out. ‘It was okay.’ “ A ‘the only way forward is through, just do it’ attitude is refreshing.

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Learning to write all three characters helps me write the others: The little things I think about that are specific to each person really help me out for the others. The depth of using body language from Sona bleeds into how Lia uses body language, and how Ori doesn’t ( even common ticks ), etc etc. Ori’s blunt, observational style of speaking ( telling you that you look good like it’s an observational fact ) helps me understand how to be straightforward with Lia.

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice? YES …? / NO. ( sometimes I do get very anxious abt it, esp. since I’m so divergent and do things like ‘so/na is one part succubus lol’ )

Do you frequently write headcanons? YES / NO. ( do excerpts count? less headcanons and more musings, since I’m on like 5+ years with 2/3 of these. )

Do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO. ( time is not a thing but I used to write a ton, my drabble energy goes to novels now )

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES / NO. ( this is why you see mobile posts from me constantly, and so many excerpts / musings ).

Are you confident in your portrayal? YES / NO. ( It’s what I want but it can also be disillusioning / disappointing to people so. Dunno. Anxiety. =/ )

Are you confident in your writing? YES / NO. ( It takes me a bit to warm up to a character again, but yes. I know my writing is not bad but I can be a little insecure about it. )

Are you a sensitive person? YES / NO. ( Very. I cry a lot and I get upset pretty easily. Sometimes I end up being really cold instead but idk. )

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal? — To a point. Sometimes criticism is irrelevant or meaningless, or is just personal taste. “Sona shouldn’t be that strong” isn’t helpful ( but thinking about ways to pare down the complexity is good! ) Sometimes I get criticism that is the equivalent of tasting a chocolate cake and going, “It should have been vanilla, I like vanilla better.” That’s cool, but that has nothing to do with the taste of the chocolate cake I made. ( Ori as a human isn’t interesting, talk more about Sona & the etwahl even though it’s broken, Lia flying doesn’t make sense, etc - these are foundational flavors, so what can I do? ).

Also sometimes people make comments that make me feel they’re just being petty / catty and not sincere. I’ve seen quite a few hypocritical comments and it’s hard to take them seriously. So, yes, but ‘to a point’... Mostly I take suggestions, which I then talk about for the muse. Exploring those ideas. Unsolicited criticism is... hmm. In my experience, about half of it isn’t constructive. And from the wrong person, it can sound judgemental.

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character? — Of course? I love asks. Always. Great. Awesome. If I have a chance to draw to answer these asks, even better.

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why? — Not really. I’m divergent, they probably disagree because they have a different vision for the character. I’ll be honest here and say I’ve had enough people tell me that “my portrayals are not what they expected” that this can be... disheartening. I usually have a good reason for 80% of my hcs. If we’re talking in IMs though or just conversing, I’m totally fine with it. This comes back to unsolicited criticism - to be a little blunt, some people just straight up don’t know what they’re talking about. And given that I put a bunch of effort in trying to make sure most of my headcanons can be glossed over, so it doesn’t cause conflict and my ‘ultra grim take’ doesn’t cause the end times... I dunno. I’d rather that someone tell me “the kind of interactions they want”, so I can lean into that direction. If you just want fluff, I can leave most of my darker hcs for So/na at the door... But you need to tell me that, so I can work with you.

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it? — just leave? huh? I mean, I already know people disagree. If you’re not rude, then we’ll just move on and be chill. Otherwise... well, we won’t be chill and you can still go, but I’ll consider you a dick. I don’t expect everyone to agree with “Ori is a human”, but why bring that up to me?

This is why a lot of the time, when people talk about characters and my muses, my brain defaults to “Well that has nothing to do with me.” Why should I invest any time being upset that people are disappointed with my portrayal or I’m not what they expected. It’s exhausting. People have some really strong opinions about Lia and Sona sometimes, but... ‘that has nothing to do with me.’ There’s no point in trying to convince someone to try your flavor of ice cream when they’ve already decided what flavor and toppings they want. It just leads to tremendous insecurity. I should not have to argue that ‘my portrayal is worth paying attention to’.

Ugh. I might be too sensitive about this. There was a point where people really got in the habit of saying, “this is how character x is” ( not their muse ), and it felt like someone trying to enter my kitchen. It did not feel like a suggestion or an idea. It was an assertive, “this is how Irelia is” by, say... a Ry/ze or Ken/nen blog or something. That felt extremely isolating and alienating to me, because it felt like I could not participate in that conversation at all. Or stuff after. I had to sideline myself, because... that has nothing to do with me or my interpretations. Ofc griping at them is wrong because I know they mean, ‘this is how I see it’, but ye. I’m short tempered and easily upset. Working on it.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it? — um? bye? hello?

god I used to go “ ok that’s cool you don’t like my portrayal, here are some other great So/na blogs that I love” but I realized that I was directing someone who felt the need to tell me my portrayal or character is bad to those people... and no. no no no. I still feel a little guilty about it, because thinking I directed a toxic person to my duplicates... yuck.

If you don’t like the characters, or you don’t like my divergent takes, that’s fine. I get it’s not for everyone. Just unfollow me. You’re not paying me. You’re not under any obligation. To an extent, i don’t mind being critical of the character, but there’s a difference between being critical and being hateful to someone’s muse? And it depends a lot on how close I am with a person. For example, I think Sy/las is a complete scumbag and I hate him, but I don’t go yelling that to every Sy/las blog I see. C’mon.

Another bit of salt but it’s... kind of a sad topic, really. There are some characters people love to hate, whereas other ones get the ‘protection squad’. And in general it’s really disheartening to see someone shittalk Lux every two weeks, but go ‘these other champs are off limits’. If you have that attitude, it makes me think you’ll shittalk my characters the moment they get popular ( COUGHIRELIACOUGH ) and that’s kind of sad. And mean. So general advice on this is: Probably just don’t tell someone you hate their muse, you know? Idk. Everyone has their own tolerance level too so. meh.

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors? — Somewhat. Not much to say here, sometimes I am very tired, sometimes I comma splice like a madman, sometimes I overuse hyphen dashes to avoid deciding whether to use a comma, period, or semicolon - like this. I don’t need an editor. English is my first language. But if there’s something egregious or you have tips, let me know? I’m someone who looks up grammar rules regularly, and breaks teh rules just as regularly. Knowing when and how to break grammar rules is useful. Though I do tend to... overuse something once I’ve learned it. Hyphen dash, I’m looking at you.

Do you think you are easy going as a mun? — Yes and no. I’m chill, I can be a little overly passionate, and I’m pretty quick to apologize... But I have certain moral standards and if you break those, you’re done. Also I can be a vengeful bastard. I try to give as much benefit of the doubt as I can and many chances, but I’ve noticed that I really... have a sour attitude towards a lot more people than I expect. Sometimes people who are very well liked, just because they said or did something that ticked me off. Luckily, I have the special skill of not being a jerk even if I don’t like you, and overall trying to be nice to most people, so it usually won’t matter.

Ah and I can be a little selective in who I talk to / play favorites a bit. I’m a busy person with an adult life and a stressful job, I only have so much patience. I skip from “tolerating it” to “leaving”, and that can seem like I ghosted, but that’s not always the case. Just better to leave than to pick fights. I have some pretty strict standards and harsh opinions. Short temper. Vengeful. Alas.

Somehow people think I am very nice and baby, so take that for what you will. Pft. I just want people to be happy and feel comfortable and okay. Wrong is wrong, blah blah blah ok I stop now.

That’s about it, congrats for filling out!

( If you managed to read all this, with 3 full muses... Let me know, I want to hug you??? )

#long post tw #ooc #//...I think this took me over an hour to write oops.

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