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calicoups · 9 months

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౨ৎ sheet masks & kisses — csc

synopsis you couldn’t let those sheet masks you ordered go to waste, could you? pairing seungcheol x fem reader genre fluff. word count 1.3k hani’s note just terms of endearment for reader (doll, sweetheart) and use of scissors (for its intended use, of course). literally thought of this as i was doing my skincare before bed. and also i miss my cutie cherry bunny guy :((

seungcheol’s shoulders shake with laughter at a video of a cat falling on his phone. it’s actually amusing seeing the things seungcheol finds funny. you swear his laugh could heal someone.

at this moment, you’re laying comfortably on seungcheol’s chest who is splayed out on the couch. you’re not doing anything in particular, just admiring seungcheol. you play with his brown locks, the silver chain around his thick neck and you poke his cheeks, pink lips and his dimples whenever they pop out as he smiles.

you swear a family of eight could live in his dimples.

there’s this glow on his skin, it makes you jealous how beautiful he is and so effortlessly at that. your finger travels upwards from his jaw on the left side of his face to his forehead then back down on the right side of his face, finger landing in the dip above his collarbones. the indent above his clavicles are deep due to the way he’s laying on the couch.

“cherry?”

a ‘hm’ sound echoes in the room, his chest vibrates. seungcheol pauses the video and looks at you, giving you his undivided attention.

“do you wanna do sheet masks with me?”

“sheet masks?” he cocks his head to the side slightly.

“yeah, i ordered a bunch two weeks ago and they came a few days ago but i didn’t have anyone to try them with,” you pause, “wanna be my testing buddy?”

“testing buddy, huh?” he muses, “let’s do it!”

without saying another word, you scramble off of seungcheol and disappear to grab a few sheet masks. when you return, you notice that seungcheol has gone back to watching those cat videos while he was waiting for you to get back. you tap his knee and hold out the different sheet masks, fanning them out like a deck of cards.

“take your pick: lotus, shea butter, green tea or mung bean?”

“hm,” seungcheol puts a finger on his chin to exaggerate his thinking then puts that finger on a packet, “i wanna try lotus root.”

“green tea for me then!” you put the rest on the coffee table, “do you want me to do yours first or mine?”

“can i do yours first, please?”

you think you might die there and then. cause of death: seungcheol saying please.

when you agree to his request, he lets out a quiet yet excited ‘okay’ and plants his knees either side of your body. using his hands, he pushes back your hair, “don’t wanna get it trapped under the mask.”

then, he grabs the green tea extract mask you picked and very, very carefully rips it open, slipping out the wet sheet. and all you can do in this moment is simply stare at seungcheol. he’s doing this with almost trembling hands, wanting to be so careful with the mask, not wanting to tear it as he unfolds it and not wanting to startle you as he places it on your face.

the mask is definitely bigger than your face, it bunches up at the ends and becomes annoying for seungcheol as he tries to smooth it down. remembering a video he saw, he wipes his hands on a tissue from the coffee table and gets up from his spot.

“wait here, i’ll be back in a second,” he ruffles your hair and walks away to grab a pair of small silver scissors.

“are you going to do what i think you’re going to do?” you watch as he straddles you again, scissors in hand. you admit that he looks a little crazy right now, kneeling above you with the scissors in his large hands.

“depends on what you’re thinking,” he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, “i saw this trick somewhere to make your mask fit better because your face is so tiny.”

“oh yeah, i’ve seen that! go ahead, just don’t poke me.”

“i would never, doll.”

seungcheol uses his thumb and forefinger to lift the mask so that the scissors don’t touch your skin, snipping at three spots: the nose bridge, upper lip and chin. he uses his fingers to connect the cut pieces together then leans back to look at his work.

at some point, he had grabbed a mirror on the way back from retrieving the scissors and he hands the mirror to you which you use to inspect for what feels like a while because how is he so good at this?

“i’m just too good, aren’t i?” seungcheol puffs out his chest in pride and you gawk at him then back at yourself in the mirror.

“yeah,” you mumble, “a little too good…‘cus who else have you done this on, huh?”

“excuse me?” seungcheol dramatically places a hand on his chest, “only you, sweetheart, you know that!”

you laugh at his exaggeration, “just teasing you, cherry.”

seungcheol folds his arms over his chest and pouts before mimicking your pose on the couch next to you, “whatever, it’s my turn so get over here.”

since seungcheol’s legs are stretched out, you take this opportunity to sit on his thighs instead of kneeling like he did. you kiss his pouty lips, “such a cutie guy.”

“here,” he hands you the packet of the sheet mask and you take it to tear it open.

the sheet is cold at your fingertips and the liquid coats them. seungcheol holds his hair back for you to lay the mask on his face. to no surprise, the mask fits perfectly on his face and doesn’t even need sizing it down like yours did.

seungcheol stares at you, his brown eyes following yours. you know what he’s doing. he’s making sure that you know you have all of his attention, that he’ll do anything you ask, may that be big or small, silly or not.

you copied what seungcheol had done to your mask and flatten his, getting rid of bumps and making sure it stuck to his handsome face properly. you were almost done but seungcheol being seungcheol, he can never be serious. he captures you with his arms and pulls you close to his chest, squeezing his arms around your body.

“this is payback for the same thing you did to me last time, doll.”

you can barely get your words out with the strength he’s using, “what did…i do last…time?”

“you did this too! said you were loving me or something?”

you never forgot, you just wanted to taunt him because you love when he's on the receiving end of your teasing comments.

“let go! i can’t breathe!” you wiggle in his tight hold and he finally spares you. you put on an act of trying to catch your breath, seungcheol scoffs playfully, “i didn’t even squeeze you as hard as you squeezed me, doll.”

“yeah, you got me there. but you weren’t affected by my strength, anyways,” you point out, “you’re way stronger than me.”

“maybe you should come to the gym with me next time.”

“yeah, yeah,” you pat your face to check the mask, “hey, i think we should remove the masks now.”

you both take the mask off and stuff each one back in its packet.

“okay, now pat the extract in!” you instruct and gently pat at your skin. seungcheol just watches.

“why aren't you patting it in?” at this, seungcheol doesn’t say anything but tilts his head up to gesture at you to do it for him. so, you use your hands to do seungcheol’s job, palms curving at his cheeks as they tap repeatedly. you get more aggressive with each tap and seungcheol’s eyes close shut at each contact of your hand with his cheeks.

“okay, now you’re just borderline slapping me.”

you squish his cheeks together and kiss his lips, “sorry, need your skin to absorb it quick.”

“i need to be compensated, doll.”

“compensation? for what?”

“for all the slapping!”

“i wasn’t slapping but fine, i’ll compensate.” you huff, “what must i do?”

seungcheol puffs out a cheek and taps it, you press a kiss to it. then, he turns his head and puff out the other cheek, you kiss it. he does it again and you can’t help but giggle at his antics yet you follow without protest.

“how many more kisses do you want?” you punctuate each word with a kiss to his cheeks.

“hm…one more?”

you sigh loudly because seungcheol points to his lips this time. say less, you would gladly kiss his lips anytime.

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fariesoiree · 6 months

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hobie brown ! mdni all smut drabbles fics commissions

๋࣭⭑ hobie isn't a jealous person

๋࣭⭑ hobie absolutely does not care if you sass him

๋࣭⭑ hobie is always down to help you study

๋࣭⭑ hobie is just so needy today

๋࣭⭑ hobie being even more needy

๋࣭⭑ fwb!hobie

๋࣭⭑ taking control of hobie(fail)

๋࣭⭑ baby did you make it home safe?

๋࣭⭑ hobie x reader with a praise kink

๋࣭⭑ hobie doesn't get jealous, you do

๋࣭⭑ lemon tart

11k words | ooc hobie x black reader first meeting! hobie’s a bit obsessed, fingering, oral reader receiving, overstimulation, cunt/cunny/pussy, unprotected sex

๋࣭⭑ strawberry meringue

6k words | everyone is under the influence, weed, shrooms, alcohol, exhibitionism, voyuerism, cunt/pussy, public sex, fingering r. receiving, oral m. receiving, cum sharing/eating, degradation, choking, brat taming, unprotected sex, pull out method

๋࣭⭑ vanilla extract

3k words + nonnie requested | hobie finds reader up far past her bedtime, oral r. receiving, fingering r. receiving, unprotected sex, overstimulation, cunt/cunny/pussy, back scratching, squirting, creampie

๋࣭⭑ buttercream

4.5k words + nonnie requested | you and hobie argue so you give him the silent treatment and he hates it, angst to smut pipeline, brat reader, oral r. receiving, hobie smokes weed

๋࣭⭑ peppermint patty

6k words + nonnie requested | you’re the good girl your parents know and love but your best friend is . . . mentions of religion, college student reader, fingering r. receiving, oral r, receiving, corruption kink, blushing described but not visual

๋࣭⭑ tiramisu

8.3k words + nonnie requested | model!hobie x model!reader who do not get along, spoiler rich reader, semi-public sex, hate sex, fingering r. receiving, pussy slapping, orgasm denial, oral r. receiving, unprotected sex, choking, hair pulling, degradation, finger sucking, drooling, cum eating, blushing described but not visual

๋࣭⭑ cherry cola

13k words + nonnie requested | best friend's bother!hobie x black fem! reader, hobie is twenty one, reader is 19, small town in the country, everyone knows everyone, a very brief moment of angst, reader is jealous, misunderstanding troupe (?) but quickly resolved, crybaby reader, kitchen sex w/people in the house, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob, cunnilingus, p in v sex, unprotected sex, facial, cum eating, open ending

๋࣭⭑ high chew

7k words + nonnie requested | prowler!hobie, brat reader, black fem reader, afab reader, reader at a club, hobie n reader argue for a bit, alcohol consumption, car sex, public sex, fingering, p in v, unprotected, cream pie, plan b mentioned, oral fixation, drool/spit, spanking

๋࣭⭑ candy cane

9k words | second part to peppermint patty, religious subtext, college setting, pet name, oral reader receiving

๋࣭⭑ green tea

5k words, cute relationship dynamic, very brief smut, fingering towards the end, hobie x oc

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glazedsnail · 5 days

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Fanficcy

We're closing in to the end (not yet there's like at least 4 parts left lmao)

Misery Loved Company

ShanexOCFarmer (♀️) 18+ / swear words/substance misuse/explicit/suicide ideation/mention of abuse/Blood/injury

I know a good fanfic writer links her parts but I don't feel like it tonight I dribbled tea on my chest and that's tea that'll never end up in my belly.

Look at my family waiting for the jellyfishes. I'm taking Jas with me and there's nothing you can do about it.

Look at us all purple fresh and then there's goober with brown hair smh.

(I have a full folder of screenshots that can last me until I actually play the game again) (I had purple hair/green eyes combo before even knowing the existence of Shane this was truly meant to be)

‘Ok she’s back. Thank you Maru.’

‘I’m back?’

‘The hematoma isn’t new, do you recall when it might have happened?’

‘What do you mean I’m back?’

‘You dozed off a little, Maru got the blood needed. Fern, do you remember anything?’

‘Yes, I mean, yes. I fell face first. What’s this? How do you know my blood type?’

Harvey sighs, I’m obviously being difficult. Maru is softly laughing, removing the empty perfusion bag from the stent in my arm.

‘We have your medical records, on top of having a bank of universal donors if you want to know everything. Now can you answer MY questions? Fern?’

‘My medical records?’

‘When did you fall? Was that before the cut? Do you feel nauseous?’

‘Last night, or early this morning I’m not sure. I’m sorry.’

‘You are in a safe space, alright? Maru thank you again for the stitches. If anyone’s still outside let them know she’s fine.’

The young nurse starts walking towards the door.

‘But no one is allowed in until I say so, is that clear?’

She nods, getting herself ready.

‘Ok Fern’ Harvey starts ‘I’ll keep you in tonight for observation. But tomorrow we’ll have to send you to Zuzu city for an MRI, alright?’

‘What about my arm?’

‘It was deep, but the shards missed any major arteries or tendons. You’ll get some blisters from the boiling water but’

‘Wait a minute, how do you know?’

He chuckles.

‘Wow you were really out weren’t you? You told us about the glasses and the tea and all.’

‘And all?’

‘Actually that was pretty much it. Do you want to keep the pieces of glass Maru extracted?’

He casually hands me a porcelain bowl with glistening small bits of glass, bloodied gauze, and a pair of tweezers.

‘I, huh.’

‘I’m joking’ he adds, replacing the bowl on its tray. ‘There’s a bell if you need anything during the night. Anything urgent that is. I’ll phone Gus, see if Emily can deliver you some dinner. Craving anything in particular?’

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘The fusspot special then. Fern you’ve lost a lot of blood, you need to eat. I’ll be upstairs, ok?’

He disappears behind the curtains and I hear the door closing. It’s odd to have a friend turn on their bedside manners…

I feel so silly. Everything hurts so much. And I’m terrified of the town speculations.

Marnie did see it happen, she’d be able to help me dismiss any rumours. Then again, this is the perfect opportunity for her to confirm her narrative. That I’m way too unstable for Shane.

What a thing to say. Coming to my house, waste my tea, drink my juice. Question my sanity. Forbid me to see her nephew. Nephew who made it clear he didn’t want to see me anyway.

I fall back on the large pillow with a sigh. The stitches are already itchy. The hospital gown is thin like toilet paper. The duvet is too thick. The perfusion stent is uncomfortable. Wait, hospital gown? How long was I out? Where are my clothes?

I’m too upset.

And hungry.

I pass my hand on my tired face. I try to remember what happened and what was said during the panic. I think about Vincent and Jas. Way to traumatise a generation. I carefully touch the bump on my forehead. “I’ll take you to Harvey’s in the morning.” He said. I scoff. Right. I didn’t believe a word he said anyway. That whole date was an absolute disaster. I had no fun, no laugh. Nothing. I faked through the whole ordeal. Comfortable arms? Soft lips? Warm smile? Kind eyes? … I slap myself. Left hand against my forehead.

‘Ow, ouch, oh what a fucking idiot’ I wince, folding myself over in pain. I never want to see him ever again.

Someone knocks on the door and doesn’t even wait for an answer to open. I assume it’s Emily with my food. ‘Ugh Emily I’m so happy to see you. I hope you brought something good, I’m starving. I have so much to tell you, you’re… Oh. It’s you.’

The curtain opened and out appeared Shane, holding a box.

‘What are you doing here?’ I ask, crawling back under the duvet.

‘Emily told me she had to deliver this to the hospital. I knew it was for you, so…’

‘Very professional of Emily I see…’

He puts the box on the bedside table and grabs a chair.

‘I’m not going to beat around the bush, Fern. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left so abruptly last night.’

‘It’s ok, no sweat.’ I lie.

‘It’s absolutely not ok. It’s never ok. Especially after… the time we spent together.’

My thighs tense up at the reminder. I try really hard not to look at him, lest I see his lustful eyes and sleazy smile on top of me, his sweaty body all over my naked skin.

I shiver.

Well that was an exercise in futility.

‘What do you want.’ I say in the coldest tone I can while my brain showers me with millions of images of me and Shane completely naked.

Hardly appropriate. ‘I mainly came to see how you’re doing.’

‘I’m fine.’ I cut short

‘Do you mind telling me what happened?’

‘Ask your aunt.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You heard me.’ I’m bitter. Who wouldn’t? ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, Fern. Did Marnie come to visit you?’

I scoff. How dare he?

‘Shane, please, don’t piss on me and tell me it’s raining, ok?

‘At least look at me.’

‘No.’

‘Fern, I’m sorry I hurt you. Leaving you there, in the chicken coop I… Well I panicked. I simply panicked. I don’t have any excuses other than I fucking panicked. Remembered how and why I was being so… rude to you in the first place, and seeing how we were now, it just…What if in the end I’m just… reverting back to that jerk… Fern, look at me!’

‘You know there’s a bell I can tug at to get Harvey down.’

‘You wouldn’t do that.’

‘Try me’

‘You wouldn’t bother anyone to get rid of me, one, you’re too polite, and self conscious. And two, for some reason I can’t understand you.. Like me? Still?’

‘So you came here to insult me, I see.’

He carefully grabs my heavily bandaged arm.

‘Did you… do that yourself?’

‘I said ask your aunt.’

‘Did SHE do that?’

I chuckle, what an idiot.

‘Yes, actually. She came in and said “if you touch my nephew again I’ll cut your arm, worthless farmer!” and did this to show me she wasn’t kidding.’

He laughs, the bastard.

‘Fern’

‘It’s not that far from the truth, you know.’

He stays silent, dumbfounded.

‘W-what?’ He stutters after a moment. I finally look at him. He’s out of his Joja uniform, making me realise how long I did pass out. He looks even more tired than usual. And worried. His cold hands are cradling mine, softly rubbing it with his thumbs. He brings it to his lips and kisses it. His other hand reaches my hair he tucks behind my ear.

‘Nasty bump there.’

‘See, I ended up at Harvey’s without your help’

He bites into his lip and looks down. We stay silent for a while, his hand rubbing mine, and I feel terrible to play with him like that. I, probably, didn’t need to bring Marnie in the conversation, when he’s already confused. ‘I broke a glass, in…Hum, in anger. And instead of, you know, doing the sensible thing like going to the hospital, I spend too long trying to fix it myself…’’

He softly kisses the bandages. I remember him seeing the wound and asking what I did, in the panic of it all. I kinda see where he’s coming from. But I’ll never admit it.

‘So’ I start ‘ What did Gus prepare for me?’

‘I actually don’t know, I just grabbed the box and left.’ He hands me the warm lunch box.

‘No notes this time?’ He dares say, in a laugh.

‘Like you’re in a position to make jokes. Aw! Some fried mushrooms and eggplant parmesan. Nice.’

‘So, does he know your favourite too then?’

‘Only one of them is my favourite’ I say, biting into a mushroom. ‘I’ll let you guess which one.’

‘I’m a terrible cook but I’m willing to try.’

I almost choke on my mushroom bite. Who said anything about cooking what for who now. I sigh.

‘He also packed some cookies. Do you, erm. Do you want to join me and grab some?’

‘You don’t want me to leave you alone? You won’t ring on Harvey?’

I laugh.

‘If anything happens, know that I have the power to make him come down in an instant!’

‘What pyjamas do you think he wears?’

‘I can ring to find out.’ I joke, extending my arm to the chord.

He laughs, timidly, and smiles at me. I smile back. I can’t fight it. I shuffle slowly to the side and pat the bed.

‘Come on. Let’s have a cookie sleepover.’

He chuckles and joins me.

‘Aren’t you cold in that gown?’ He asks, looking at me out of the cover, before lifting it for himself. ‘Oh shit that’s heavy duty stuff.’

‘Yeah I barely need the gown at all, it’ll make me sweaty.’

He laughs, locking his eyes into mine. I feel myself breathing heavily, looking back at him. He softly caresses my cheek, my neck, reaches my shoulder and undo the first knot of the hospital gown. He sighs, breathing heavily too.

‘Harvey could hear us’ I say in one whisper, helping him put the box of food aside and get rid of his belt.

‘I’ll have to keep you quiet’ he says in my ear. I shiver, let him devour my neck, climb slowly, delicately, on top of me.

‘Watch for the stent.’

‘I’ll be very careful, the softest.’ He slowly inserts himself inside of me with incredible ease. He tries to conceal a groan as he feels my wet inside surrounding him, ready for him.

He breathes heavily against my neck. I grab him, letting him fall completely into me. He moves ever so slowly, making me taste every inch of him in a delicious soft dance, punctuated by his breathing and low growl.

‘You ok baby? I’m not hurting you?’

I shiver.

‘N-no’ I whisper back ‘This feels..Ah..Great.’

I fail at concealing a moan. Shane softly covers my mouth with his hand.

‘Shh. You’re gonna get us caught.’ he whispers directly in my ear, moving with the only goal of making me explicitly squeal.

He’s enjoying it. This is outrageous. I’ve never been so turned on in my life.

‘That’s my good girl.’ He looks at me, still covering my mouth, moving his hips to overwhelm me, forcing me to stay silent. I try to keep my muffled whimpers as down as possible.

‘Shane…’

He kisses me with such intense softness. I grab the back of his head, kissing him back. My eyes are getting wet from the multiple sensations, the edges of pleasures Shane is balancing me on. The risk of getting caught, the self-inflicted restriction of making any kind of noise, while subjected to the creaking of the bed, the wet sound of our bodies merging, and his slow breathing against my skin.

I lift my bandaged arm to him.

‘Ha shit.’

‘Are you ok?’

‘Yeah I’m sorry ah.. No, don’t stop… It’s only my arm. I almost forgot why I was there.’

‘Almost?’ He replies, kissing all the free skin he can find. ‘Then I’m not doing a good job.’ he laughs, moving inside me, making me yelp.

‘Shane!’

‘Shh.’

‘You certainly are enjoying yourself’ I say between gasps and heavy breathings. ‘Are you not?’ He asks, attacking me with a stronger thrust.

‘Fuck, Shane!’

‘I said: “are you not?”’ I yield, like I’m able to do anything else. ‘I am…’ I grab him by the back of his head, locking him with my legs. ‘ I love feeling your hard cock inside my warm pussy.’ I feel him try to conceal a spasm. Despite it all, it seems I know how to get the upper hand.

‘Fern…’

I’m overstimulated by his slow passionate fuck, the low sound of his whispering voice.

‘F-Fern.’ he repeats, slowly moving between my legs.

He buries his head in my neck. I bite into his shoulder. Tears fall down my temples as I conceal a scream, barely. I hear him growl, feel him tremble, feel his warmth covering my walls.

‘Fuck Fern I’m sorry.’

‘It’s ok… It’s ok, don’t worry. No please stay… stay inside of me…’

‘I couldn’t…Control anything I’

I laugh

‘Shane it’s fine. Come don’t worry.’ I grab him back to let him fall on me, give him some rest. He works on getting his breathing back to normal, I play with his hair, feeling my heart pumping in my chest. I try to process how we came at the same time, like two stupid romance protagonists. I laugh to myself. After a while, disappointingly, he slips down next to me.

‘Are you gonna leave?’ I try to sound completely disinterested whatever he chooses. After all, about an hour ago I said I didn’t want to see him ever again. Then I saw him again, and invited him on my hospital bed, made him comfortable in between my legs, cried at the overwhelming pleasure he inflicted on me I… I need to stop and reevaluate my convictions. ‘No, unless you want me to.’

‘I guess you got what you came for.’

‘Fern’ He shuffles against me, moving his fingers delicately on my tender skin. ‘I know you don’t believe that of me.’

‘There’s been precedent.’

‘I had no clue this would happen’ he simply says, now kissing my chest ‘It’s certainly not why I came here.’

‘Then why?’

‘I still haven’t had any of those cookies for starters’

I slap his shoulder, failing to push him off the bed. He has no right to make me laugh.

He gains back his composure and sits up. ‘First of all, I wanted to check on you.’ He grabs me in his arms, making himself more comfortable on the hospital bed. He accidentally pushes his shorts, all with belt and set of keys, off the mattress. It all falls in a loud repeating clink of noises. We both brace ourselves, keeping an ear out for “old man Harv’” running down the stairs. Nothing. Fortunately. We both sigh and he continues. ‘When Caroline ran into Joja she was white as a sheet. She was shouting for Harvey. I was trying to calm her down and help her find the doc but then she said your name. I let her there, and took off. As stupid as it was of me. She was panic stricken, about something that happened to you. I was so scared.’ I see his eyes shifting left and right. The memories of this afternoon are mixing with distant ones. Distant memories of hurt loved ones he’ll never be able to process. He wasn’t there. He couldn’t be there. It haunts him. I grab his shaking hand.

‘And then I saw everyone outside the clinic. Jas ran to me, crying. Penny’s hands covered in blood. I tried to ask what happened, Jas was crying on my shoulder. I got no answers. I had to run in. This.. rush overrode every sense in me, telling me I had to see you now, just in case.’ He’s trembling. I realise he’s having some sort of PTSD episode. I catch him, pulling him towards me.

‘Take a deep breath, Shane. You’re fine. I’m fine. It’s ok.’ I cradle him in my arms, swaying side to side, softly humming. ‘I did tell you about Jas’ parents.’

I nod, feeling the tears gathering in my eyes.

‘And you did the best you could. For her, and for yourself.’

I tightens my arms around him as much as my injury and this stupid stent allow me. ‘I’m fine, Shane. Look at me. All I’ll get is a stupid scar. We’re all fine, ok?’

He removes himself from my arms.

‘I’m sorry, I…I’m not sure what happened.’ He says, wiping his wet eyes.

‘You’ve had to process so much on your own, to keep strong for others, on your own.’ I recall Marnie’s words from this afternoon, asking me to leave Shane alone, for his own sake. Is she right? Would I bring him down? I’m in such a better place than ever before, that’s got to count for something, right? I don’t want to die anymore.

‘Fern?’

‘What?’

‘I said “how’s your arm?” You’re rubbing it.’ I didn’t even realise I’ve been doing that.

‘It’s ok. Harvey said it looked fine. He even asked if I wanted to keep the shards but he was joking.’

He laughs ‘That’d be kinda cool.’

‘Right? And he just threw them away.’

‘What if he actually keeps everything and has a collection box or something.’

‘Shane that’s so gross’

‘I know but imagine, everything that’s been inside someone’s body! A Pelican Town time capsule, a keepsake of some sort.’

‘So, he’s got shards of glass from me, what else?’

‘Well, I’m not sure how well pumped stomach content would keep.’

‘Oh of course, that night…’

I look to the side, to the empty bed in the corner Shane was occupying that night I stumbled upon him on the cliff. Harvey had done a great job preventing Shane from falling to alcohol poisoning. I shudder at the idea of what could’ve happened.

Shane grabs my chin, turning my head to him instead of the empty bed full of bad memories.

‘I’m fine.’ he says, knowing exactly what I was thinking about. ‘I mean, not…”fine”, but, I’m ok.’ he quickly adds, laughing.

‘Can you stay with me a little longer?’ I ask, nuzzling into his chest. ‘I don’t want to be alone in this room.’

‘You can always ring for Harvey to come down’ he answers with a grin. ‘Yeah, you know what. I might. He seems like a good cuddler. Good night, Shane.’ I reply, turning my back on him and covering myself with the heavy blanket. ‘Don’t forget your pants on the way out.’

He laughs, I feel him shuffling down, lying next to me. He passes his arm under my neck and intertwines his fingers with mine. I’m too stunned to say anything. His other arm is resting on my waist, his hand on my chest. His leg pushes mines to insert himself in between. I hear him sigh, and he kisses the top of my head.

‘G’night, baby’ he says in a soft whisper.

I’m, err, surprised? Pleasantly surprised that is.

I can’t help but feel bitter. I should have told about Marnie, about what she wants, what she knows, from his own mouth.

I didn’t say anything, I let him make love to me. Ha! Let him. Like I didn’t want it as much, if not more. I let him weaken me, make me laugh, remind me that I fell in love with him. He genuinely seems to not know about Marnie’s little visit. It wouldn’t be his choice. If he didn’t want me around he wouldn’t be spooning me right now.

But perhaps Marnie’s right. I can be a bad influence on him. All my talks about trying to be together and see, were they just to serve me? I don’t know properly why I fell for him. The only certain thing is that I want him happy. Do I want it enough to let him be happy without me? What if his happiness is kept at bay because of me? Every day he’d look at me and know that I tried to kill myself once. I can’t possibly bring him any good.

I can’t choose for him.

He holds me closer, as if to calm my troubled thoughts.

‘Good night, Shane.’ I finally whisper back.

#stardew valley #fanfic #writing #stardew valley fanfic #fanfic stardew valley #fanfiction #fanfic writing #stardew valley shane #stardew valley smut #stardew shane #sad chicken man

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thelittlestladylikesthis · 1 month

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The Pink Rose, part 3

Part Three- July 4th, 74 ADD

Pairing: Haymitch Abernathy x reader

Word count: 2,972

Warnings: 18+, fluff and smut, couple argument, slapping, guilt, age gap, pet names, heterosexual relationship

**** Almost all characters and parts of the storyline are not my original creation and are credited to Suzanne Collins. And please be nice. Warning line marks 18+ part

[Y/n] had almost forgotten what it felt like to sit in the plush, velvet seats on the train that would take them to the Capitol. Haymitch was on the train somewhere; probably the bar car, and Effie would be escorting Katniss and Peeta to the train station about now. [Y/n] had boarded the train early to make herself up to Effie and the Capitol’s standards. She pinned her hair up with a hairpin that had a snake on one end and it’s eyes made of green stones. Her silk dress was a deep emerald color and wrapped around her shoulders was a sheer, matching shawl. On her feet were a set of black high heels with what might have been the sharpest toe point in history. Starting today and until the end of the games, [Y/n] would have to step into the role of the glamorous, voluptuous, female victor from District 12. The diamond in the rough who had been extracted from 12 by the Hunger Games. This was an embarrassing way to be seen and [Y/n] hated it. She felt dirty wearing an outfit that could no doubt have been sold to feed a family of 4 for at least a month. But the other Victors would only see her for what she was: a formidable opponent who had defied the odds in her own game, but never had tributes who could do the same.

Shaking her head away from the superficial complaints she’d kept to herself, she thought of Katniss and Peeta. Would they be receptive to her help? To what extent did they even have a chance? How long would they last? [Y/n] felt evil thinking that last part; but as Haymitch had said in the past, the earlier they die, the longer you have to drink about it.

After an eternity of waiting, the silver door to the train car slid open, and in walked Katniss, followed by Peeta and Effie. The two teens had identical looks of shock on their faces. It would’ve been quite the sight to a young person from District 12. Nothing in their District was this shiny or immaculate. Even with Peeta being the son of a baker, [Y/n] doubted that neither he or Katniss had ever seen such an array of baked goods and fruit in their lives. The two took seats near [Y/n]. They moved slowly as if they were afraid they might break something. No doubt the very color of the fabric on the chairs was foreign to them.

Effie poured two cups of tea- one for herself and one for [Y/n]. She brought the cups over and made herself comfortable.

“200 miles per hour and you can barely feel a thing,” she mused excitedly to the teens, “I think it’s one of the wonderful things about this opportunity- that even though you’re here and even though it’s just for a little while, you get to enjoy all of this!”

[Y/n] smirked because Peeta and Katniss did not appear to fully share Effie’s excitement at their “opportunity”.

Effie could only stand so much awkward tension before she got up and walked out of the car, “I’m going to find Haymitch; he’s probably in the bar car!”

[Y/n], Katniss, and Peeta sat in silence for several minutes, just observing each other and glancing around the car so as not to make eye contact. Just when the silence was about to break, the car door slid open and in walked Haymitch. He had the slightest sway when he walked, but other than that he was still in a functional stage of drunkenness.

He looked at Katniss and Peeta and with a hint of sarcasm said, “Congratulations,” before walking to the small liquor cart to pour himself another drink. [Y/n] rolled her eyes at the snide comment from her fellow victor. The group continued to sit in silence, this time all watching Haymitch as he rummaged through the cart and mumbled, “No ice? Why can’t they get ice?” he slammed down the lid on the ice bucket, making Peeta jump in his seat. With a glass in one hand, Haymitch decided to just drink straight from the bottle if he couldn’t have his drink iced. Katniss’ eyes followed him suspiciously as he walked towards them and sat down next to [Y/n]. Katniss was just worried that he’d try and hug her again.

Peeta looked at Haymitch and [Y/n], cleared his throat and asked “Okay, when do we start?”

Haymitch immediately held up one hand, “Whoa! So eager!” [Y/n] placed a hand on his shoulder as he continued his sarcastic remark, “Usually you all aren’t in such a… hurry,”

Before [Y/n] could open her mouth, Peeta looked right at Haymitch and without missing a beat, “Yeah, well, you’re our mentor, you’re supposed to tell us how to get sponsors and give us advice!”

Haymitch looked at him with an irritated expression, “Oh, well then, embrace the possibility of your imminent death and know- in your heart- that there’s nothing I can do to save you,”

Peeta glared at him as Katniss shot back, “So why are you here then?”

“For the refreshments,” Haymitch got up, put his hand on [Y/n]’s shoulder and then walked back towards the bar car.

Peeta shot up before calmly stating, “He’ll come around, I’m gonna go talk to him,”

“Peeta!” [Y/n] called, but he ignored her and followed Haymitch out.

[Y/n] and Katniss stared at each other for a second before [Y/n] sighed, “I’ll apologize for the rude welcoming; not that the whole idea of the Hunger Games is welcoming in the first place. But you should at least be able to trust the few people from your District who will be in the Capitol,”

Katniss nodded and quietly thanked her.

“I think we should wait to talk strategy until the boys are less… riled up,” [Y/n] suggested, “Why don’t you go take some time to yourself? Have a snack and a shower- those will be nonexistent in the arena. Might as well use Capitol resources for your benefit while you can,” she smiled at Katniss and declared she was going to take a nap before dinner as she left the car in the opposite direction of Haymitch and Peeta.

So far, Katniss liked [Y/n] much better than Haymitch or Effie. There was something about [Y/n] that was kind and comforting, but also mysterious and seemingly held some contempt for the Capitol.

* * *

After dinner had been cleared, [Y/n] shooed Katniss and Peeta to bed and told them they had a long day tomorrow. The two didn’t hesitate to leave and struggled to drag their bodies- who’d never been this full of food- back to their quarters.

As soon as the doors slid closed, [Y/n] looked at Haymitch and gave him a disapproving look. Effie looked at the two of them and straightened up in her seat, wondering if [Y/n] would finally be taking her side.

Haymitch looked up at [Y/n] with an oblivious look, “What?”

“Really Haymitch? Those kids need people they can trust before they go into that arena. You didn’t have a mentor at all, and I’ll admit you were no help until you realized I actually had a chance! You could at least try. That’s all I ask is you not act like a drunken fool when you’re around kids from our District who’ve been sent to the slaughterhouse!”

“Why do you suddenly care so much about these two?” He stood up and walked over to her side of the table, “Over ten years and all of a sudden,” he put one hand on the table and one on her chair. He leaned in, “You think you can point the finger and be the only one who cares? You, the one who disappeared to the Capitol for months at a time? Boy, the Capitol must really love you- what did Snow offer you to starting caring more for-”

[Y/n] shot out of her seat and slapped Haymitch sharply across the face as Effie gasped her name loudly.

[Y/n] glowered into Haymitch’s face, “Don’t. Ever. Use Snow and the Capitol against me,” Feeling the tears begin to build, she rushed from the car. Haymitch had no idea what he was talking about. After becoming a Victor, she did spends up to 3 months in the Capitol at a time, but not by choice. Haymitch wouldn’t know. There were maybe two other Victors in all of Panem who more or less knew what she had experienced, and [Y/n] didn’t want her tears to tell the others.

* * *

[Y/n] lay in her bed staring at the dark ceiling of her chambers. She had enough experience with the Capitol’s trickery to know that at least one of the four sconce chandeliers held a camera. She was one of the desirable victors, so the Capitol used any chance to collect even a glimpse of her body. This was one of the ironies of being spontaneous at Haymitch’s house; the Capitol could not care less about Haymitch or his sex life. [Y/n] chuckled at the thought of someone paying money to see Haymitch pace around his room, drunk.

Drunk and angry? How upset was he that she had slapped him? The guilt of attacking the only person who meant anything to her began to build. Did she ruin her chances with him? They’d never had an interaction like that before. A tear ran down her cheek- putting on a show, being nice, and then attacking when they’ve upset you. She was no better than the Capitol.

Her mind raced in circles: she’d just been mad at him for being drunk hours earlier. No- not for being drunk, for how he treated Katniss and Peeta. And she acted irrationally when he said something she didn’t like. And despite how they’d acted, she knew neither of them meant it- she hoped he didn’t mean it. The Capitol had done a number on her and every other Victor. No one came out of the arena the same way they went in, and that followed them until the day they died.

[Y/n]’s mind raced through the countless Victors she’d met who were unstable in so many ways. She must’ve seen crazy to someone too. She threw herself out of bed and realized she hadn’t changed out of her dinner dress or taken off her makeup. At least her hair wasn’t a disaster; not that she cared, Haymitch had seen her bedhead before. [Y/n] wouldn’t be able to sleep again until she apologized. Now.

She picked out a pair of black slippers and made her way to the next train car. The train never ceased to amaze her, sneaking around like a delinquent child and she couldn’t feel the train moving beneath her feet. But the train would feel her and it would see her too. Every hall had a camera to watch who was moving where. [Y/n] shrugged, they could know she was going to see Haymitch at 11:30 at night, but they could only assume what would happen once she went inside.

[Y/n] made it to the next car and found Haymitch’s chambers. She lightly knocked on the door and listened for a response. Instead of a voice, the door quickly slid open. Standing in the doorway was a disheveled Haymitch. His shirt was unbuttoned, his pants wrinkled, and his feet bare. His salt and pepper curls were wild and his grey eyes tired. But something about those eyes became brighter when he realized who was at his door.

After a brief moment, Haymitch grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the room and embraced her, “I’m sorry for today,” he whispered into her hair.

[Y/n] was stunned, she didn’t come here looking for an apology, “I came to apologize to you… are you still drunk?”

“No,” he said quietly and let go except for her hand, “I know I’m not because I can feel it… I understand if you don’t want to deal with… this,” he gestured to himself.

[Y/n] sighed, “You must be forgetting, I’m the one who slapped you. I can’t even begin to say how sorry I am,”

Haymitch chuckled and pointed at the scars across his abdomen, “Not the worst I’ve had,”

She rolled her eyes, “Haymitch, I still feel bad. It was uncalled for and irrational and -”

Haymitch grabbed [Y/n] by her upper arms, and smashed his lips onto her. [Y/n] placed one hand on Haymitch’s chest. He pulled his mouth a few inches away and touched his forehead to hers, “I love you,” [Y/n] felt the fireworks in her chest leap forth.

“I love you Haymitch,” [Y/n] threw her arms around his neck and resumed the kiss. She was noticeably more enthusiastic this time. Haymitch was much taller than her so when he stood all the way up, her feet came off the ground. When their lips parted for air, [Y/n] felt bold and breathed, “Haymitch, I need you,”

Haymitch set her on her feet and stroked his hands down her sides and around to her back. He pulled the small zipper down and let his fingers lightly trail down her spine before allowing the silky dress to slip down her soft curves with ease. His eyes rested on her breasts as a deep breath caught in his chest. [Y/n] slowly pushed Haymitch backwards until he fell onto the bed. He propped himself up onto his elbows and looked into [Y/n]s deep brown eyes. As she gazed down at him, she reached behind her back and unclipped her bra, tossing it aside. Haymitch’s eyes widened, his reaction was like he had never seen her body before.He noticed her underwear were made of black lace and cut into a V shape that was hardly there. Haymitch’s breathing faltered as [Y/n] approached him. Unzipping his trousers, she helped him shimmy them lower with his briefs, and allowed him to spring up at attention.

“Well someone is ready to go,” she smiled devilishly.

[Y/n] crawled up the end of the bed and up over Haymitch until she was hovering above him, nose to nose. Haymitch reached up and ran his fingers into her hair, pulling her face towards his and kissing her deeply. She smiled into the kiss and lowered her hips to lightly grind on Haymitch. He released a deep chesty groan before sitting up and whispering into her mouth, “Damn sweetheart, I wanna fuck you again!”

[Y/n] smiled and bit her lip, “Then do it already!”

Haymitch chuckled lightly before getting up on his knees and roughly flipping [Y/n] onto her stomach, “Is this what you want?” He blew into her ear as he pinned her down by her wrists.

“Yes,” [Y/n] wiggled her rear and felt Haymitch stiffen as he moaned lightly.

Unexpectedly, Haymitch let go and [Y/n] felt the bed move as he leaned away from her. She turned around and gave him a confused look.

He furrowed his brow as he stood up and pulled his briefs back on, “What’re we doin’ Sweetheart?”

[Y/n] hadn’t been this confused in a long time, “Wha-?”

“I mean this is great- you’re amazing- but what is this?” He asked.

“What are you talking about? Not five minutes ago you said you loved me!”

“Which makes sense; you’re beautiful, smart, cunning, fiery, and you put up with me. But you loving me? That makes no sense; I’m a miserable, old drunk who took advantage of a girl who I have more than a decade on!”

“Haymitch… when you’re not absolutely hammered, you’re also smart and cunning… and you’ve always put up with me. We’ve known each other for 13 years. You might be older than I am, but we didn’t start here- I honestly hated you when we first met,” she got off the bed and walked over to him, placing her hand gently on his face, “But I’ve considered you a great friend for a very long time; and I’ve come to realize in the last few years that you’re the one person in Panem who has ever cared for me in the last 13 years- and I love you,”

Haymitch wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace, “Well, I’m sorry I made you love me,” he said with a hint of amusement.

She pulled back in disbelief, “Haymitch, I just poured my heart out!”

“And I’m not good with the lovey stuff; but I can say I love you too,” They stood locked in their embrace for a moment before Haymitch whispered, “Would you be mad if we finished this another night?”

“Absolutely not,” her smile disappeared, “Are we making this into something?”

“Thirteen years seems good enough… you want a title Sweetheart?”

“If we’re gonna sleep together more, I’d like to get rid of any speculation that could imply ‘desperate whore’ in my Victor description,”

Haymitch threw his head back and laughed, “Well I guess you’re gonna be my girlfriend wether the Capitol likes it or not,”

“Wether anyone likes it or not,” she kissed his jaw, “Get some sleep, you need to be a mentor tomorrow,”

Haymitch shook his head as he tossed her a robe, “Get outta here Sweetheart,”

She chuckled lightly as she put on the robe and gathered her things, “Are we crazy?”

“Crazy?” he questioned, “Maybe a little nuts. I’m a drunk. You don’t trust anyone. But I don’t think we’re crazy,” He walked over and hugged her again, lingering a little longer that time.

Masterlist

#haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy x y/n #hunger games fanfic #thg haymitch #haymitch x OC #the hunger games au

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loreleismusings99 · 9 months

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Two Body Problem

Ch 4

[Masterlist]

Qualifying exams are stressful. coming to terms with budding romantic feelings is somehow even more stressful. In which Mark and the reader critique each others' work and a surprising amount of sleep happens.

Thank you for reading! sorry this took so long to get out, I just graduated(can't believe I have a bachelor's degree now omg), and my life has been kind of a whirlwind lately, but I'm glad I was able to get this out. I don't think this is my strongest chapter, but I can move on to other parts of the story now this is done. As always, please let me know of ways I can improve this and if there's anything that should be fixed about this. Tysm, and I hope y'all are having a wonderful holiday season! Happy Perihelion Day!

also, y'all, I am running out of Matt Damon gifs to use for these so if you have any suggestions, please send them to me!

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God, my back hurts…

You shift under your blanket and grumble at the uncomfortably stiff structure that's currently cradling you. Cracking open an eye, you look around at your surroundings, becoming increasingly familiar as the clouds of sleep part and slowly return your senses to you. Why am I in the living room? Cracking open the other eye, you’re nearly blinded by the morning’s sunlight. Letting out a raspy “ugh…” at the unpleasant stimulus, you turn your head into your blanket again to shield your eyes from the offending ball of ionized hydrogen.

A new piece of sensory information halts your thoughts almost completely when you bury your face in your blanket though; notes of honey with an afterthought of what might be soil flood your senses, layered with something bergamot-y and a mystery spice that gives warmth to the smell. The smell reminds you of your night in the library, labs full of undergrads extracting caffeine from tea leaves, and office hours in the too-cramped grad office in the biosciences building. You remember a hand brushing yours as you both reach for the same homework packet, then mousy blond hair, striking green eyes, and a smattering of freckles.

The realization that your blanket smells like Mark hits you like a freight train and you're suddenly ripped from the clutches of sleep as he fills your senses. You try to find it within you, but you can’t quite locate the discomfort you thought you’d experience being confronted with Mark’s presence--however fleeting and ephemeral-- first thing in the morning. The feelings it stirs within you are… pleasant?? Being enveloped by the earthy scent is calming for whatever reason; like being held, wrapped in a profound sense of home and safety that you rarely have felt in your adult life. He must wear lavender… you think, trying to explain away the state you're in before drifting off again, sleeping in for the first time in a long while.

☆☆☆

“I'm sorry, you did what?!” Mark whirls around, his sandwich still clutched in his left hand while his right is holding his laptop in a precariously loose grip.

Colin rolls his eyes before responding to Mark's dramatic outburst. “Oh please, don't act so scandalized; that's a completely normal and average thing to ask--”

The door slamming at almost midnight tonight was certainly not on Colin’s bingo sheet for the evening’s events, but it was a harbinger of more unexpected happenings starting with Mark’s sour mood after returning from what should have been an enjoyable get-together with his colleagues in the bioengineering department.

“Sure, yes, normally, but they’re about the least average individual I’ve met up until this point in my life, Colin; you can’t just--” Colin has had a front-row seat to Mark’s gradual descent into denial for almost 6 months at this point. As Mark starts waxing poetic about how inviting you over to do moc quals presentations together would be the single worst decision Colin’s made, he remembers the night he came back from that mixer the two of you met in late spring earlier this year.

“The fucking audacity, how did they get this far being so unprofessional--” Mark tosses his bag onto their shared couch a mere foot away from where Colin was sitting writing up a first draft of the introduction for his thesis proposal on improving science communication with the general public while avoiding misleading sensationalism. Mark storms off into his room before poking his head out the door to say, “Did you know using a switch case to find the number of elements in an array is apparently--” Mark mimes air quotes “‘so clunky that it should be considered a syntax error’? Fucking hell…”

As Mark ducks back into his room grumbling, Colin responds with,“ Mark, I promise you I had no clue… and good evening, why do you look and sound like someone just told you agriculture and botany are the same thing?” Colin waits for Mark’s response as he stomps out of his room, having exchanged his business casual garb for his pajamas, and sulks into their kitchen.

“Oh, no reason. I just had the displeasure of getting publically ridiculed by a EE who wouldn’t know the difference between a spanner and a set of calipers, their head’s so fucking deep in electronics they don’t know how to communicate with other humans.” after grabbing a bottle of lemonade from the fridge, Mark collapses down on the chair to Colin’s left, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut.

He has it bad… Colin remembers thinking, as he does now, as he watches Mark run up his blood pressure, postulating about critiques you haven’t even had the chance to make on his quals paper and presentation yet. “Mark… Mark, listen.” Colin says to interrupt his wayward roommate’s self-sabotage. “It’s not that serious. They’re going to come over to get their paper looked at too--actually, they’re presenting the same day as you. They’re coming here with the same level of vulnerability as you. I don’t think they’ll go easy on you, but I don’t think they'd be cruel either.”

Colin waits a couple of seconds before asking,“... what’s their name?” Mark pauses and looks up at the ceiling with a faraway look in his eye before saying your name, calmly for the first time since he’s returned home for the evening. Colin and Mark sit in this pause before Mark continues, describing how you were a vision of confidence and poise in your sweater vest, oxfords, and slacks--likely due to unfounded pride, he added after snapping out of his momentary revere. It took everything in Colin’s power not to laugh in Mark’s face every time he tried to explain away every positive thing he noted about you, from your ‘surprising competence in biomechanical design to your managing to land a graduate assistantship in one of the best-funded bio-instrumentation labs in the department.

“How would you know? Hell, they were probably thrilled by the idea of getting to take me down a peg and ruin my faith in my thesis in the process--”

“Well, they certainly seemed eager, but likely not for the reason you think…” Colin responds absent-mindedly as he returns to prepping his presentation materials for their moc quals presentations.

Mark pauses in his nervous pacing and looks finally directly at Colin before asking, “What… exactly did they say? When you asked?”

“My, you’re awfully interested in the minutia of their reactions to you. I wonder why…” Colin postulates slyly, looking up from his computer and smirking.

It takes a few seconds of gear-turning in Mark's head before he finally picks up on what Colin is insinuating before the man in question lets out a guffaw and states, “Absolutely not. No. Impossible, inconceivable--”

“Explain yourself then; you've been emotionally constipated since the day you met them,” Colin crosses his arms before continuing, “You aren't very good at hiding the inner machinations of your head you know, it's written all over in how you act.”

“What I feel for them is probably the farthest thing from affection, they make me sick to my stomach--”

“You sure those aren't just butterflies?--”

“Can you please just answer my question?” Mark sighs in exasperation, and Colin lets out a chuckle before explaining how the events transpired.

“So, I found them in the lab--I think they were soldering something? Honestly, it's beyond what I was willing to ask about so I don't know, but I asked them how they were doing and if they're interested in doing moc quals with us--”

“How do you know where their lab is?”

“I majored in journalism, Mark--I have my methods, don't worry about it. Anyway, they perked up at the mention of moc quals and said that they're about to give their presentation on Friday and that they'd love to have extra practice presenting to people who would ask similar questions to what their committee would ask them. They even mentioned that, quote,‘ despite your likely lack of appreciation for their work, your opinions would be useful,’ end-quote.” Colin utters the last sentence with a chuckle.

Mark opens his mouth to say to retort before he's interrupted by a gentle knock at the door.

Mark looks up at the door and then frantically around the apartment, looking at the mess of dishes he had left from his dinner yesterday before uttering a soft “shit!”, tossing his computer onto the couch next to Colin, and holding his sandwich in his mouth as he picks up his dishes and runs them into the kitchen. “You didn’t say they’d be here now!!” Mark yells from behind the divider wall that separates the kitchen from the living/dining room area, hiding dirty dishes in a panicked frenzy as Colin gets up to let you in.

“You didn’t let me get that far before you started questioning me--Hi there, welcome in!” Colin calls over his shoulder before greeting you and stepping to the side of the open door to let you into his and Mark’s shared space.

“Hey, thanks for inviting… me…” You look around like this is the first time you've seen a room before saying“Wow, you two have a nice place” with what looks like a sparkle of awe in your eyes.

“Thanks,” Mark finally decides to pipe up after exiting the kitchen and leaning against the wall. “Sorry for the mess though, I didn't know we were going to have company.” Mark forces through a fake smile as he looks over to Colin with thinly veiled, panicked irritation.

“Ah, so the clutter and dirty dishes aren't a half-baked preparation strategy?” You jest, dawning a coy smirk before turning to Colin and asking, “Shoes on or off?”

Colin's barely able to get in an ‘either is fine’ before Mark rebuts with, “You wound me with how much you underestimate my very complex plan to distract you.” Colin almost sprains an ocular muscle rolling his eyes at Mark's attempt to play it cool after nearly having an aneurysm about you coming over as the man in question ducks back behind the false wall before saying, “I'm making Pizza Bagel Bites for us.” There's a short pause before Mark pokes his head around the wall to regard you again before asking, “Do you like Bagel Bites?”

“Yeah, Bagel Bites are fine.”

“Are you sure? I can make something else if you want; we also have hot pockets, an actual frozen pizza, and we might have some leftover soup from Thanksgiving too--”

You rest a hand on your hip and sit into it before asking, with a huff, “Mark, honestly l, anything is fine; are we going to do this or are you afraid my presentation's going to be better than yours?”

At this point, Colin has sat back down on their couch and is having the time of his life watching what's unfolding before him. He looks over to the kitchen where Mark is still hidden and listens as he hears a clamoring commotion of a pan being filled with frozen Bagel Bites and the furious beeps of the oven turning on to pre-heat before he rushes out of the kitchen, picks up his laptop, sits down, and opens it.

Mark dawns a haughty smirk and a competitive gleam sparks in his eyes as he says, typing away on his computer, “Oh, you have no idea the magnitude of scrutiny you've just unleashed upon your work…”

You let out a huff of a laugh before saying, “I expect nothing less” and opening up your laptop and sharing with the two of them your paper and presentation as the lot of you get started on your moc reviews.

The process is fairly simple: one of you presents while the other two act as your panel committee, asking questions, and making suggestions at the end of your presentation. Colin goes first, presenting his findings from his literature review of surveys and short-term studies of the efficacy of popular science news and the need for more long-term studies. This is something he's practiced hundreds of times, so the questions you throw at him aren't surprising--though, he is quite taken aback by how well-versed you are in pedagogical techniques in science communication and makes a note to pick your brain about your experience later.

You go next, Mark having half-offered half-volunteered you to go next, he's probably still trying to calm his nerves, Colin thinks as he watches Mark shift awkwardly in his seat while you stand from your spot on the couch next to him after setting up your presentation on your computer. Colin tries his best to focus on the lovely presentation on flexible electronics and their use in vitals monitoring, but he can’t help but be distracted by Mark's increasingly adorable investment in your presentation, actively listening and asking questions but with a faraway look in his eyes as he gazes at you with what can only be described as adoration as you passionately expound upon the process of medication release in implantable medical sensing devices. You finish your presentation and Mark enthusiastically jumps up to present last, evidently forgetting his nerves from earlier and diving straight into the complexities of irrigation and sustainable crop cultivation in extreme environments. Colin takes note of the understated excitement you exhibit at Mark's passion for his field, so reserved that he almost missed the way you attempted to block a blush and giggle at his peculiar use of casual, nearly comical lexicon in a presentation meant to convince the academics at the top of the botany ivory tower to give him a chance at becoming a professional scientist.

After presenting you all went over the notes you made on each other's presentations, discussing why certain word choice decisions were made, how each of you dealt with being confronted with A gap in your knowledge, et cetera. Mark was chewing on the end of a red pen while looking over the notes and suggestions you provided for his presentation before making a face and asking, “What’s wrong with my wording here? I think this is a perfectly valid term to describe nutrient uptake efficiency in--”

“Mark, do I need to tell you why you can’t say ‘slorp’ in a Ph.D. qualification oral exam?” You look up from your paper, now marked up with notes from Mark and Colin, and look pointedly at Mark, your mouth quirked into a poorly concealed smirk. Mark starts falling over his words trying to explain his reasoning--or lack thereof--while failing at holding back enthusiastic laughter.

Mark turns to Colin and asks, “Well, what do you think--do you see the academic value of using slorp in a presentation?”

Colin rests a hand gently on Mark’s shoulder before responding. “Mark, my dearest friend, I absolutely do not,” Colin says through bouts of laughter and it puts you in stitches next to Mark, laughing so hard that the only noise you can make is a high-pitched wheeze as you’re doubled over by your glee.

Mark dramatically clutches his shirt right over his heart and says, “Et tu, Brute??” before succumbing to his laughter.

☆☆☆

The empty chair to your right buzzes with the vibrations your restless leg sends through the floor as you await the panel's decision on whether or not you need to reconsider your place in the Ph.D. program. Every time you try to listen in on the conversation your advisor and mentors are having in the room behind you, Hana gently squeezes your hand to remind you to at least try not to obsess about your presentation. It's done now, the ball's in their court. All you can do now is wait and try not to send your blood pressure through the roof.

I think that went alright…you think, threading your fingers between Hana's in an attempt to ground yourself. I answered all of their questions correctly… I think. They didn't say so if I didn't; would they have done that? Fuck, what if they just decided to say nothing-

The door to Hana’s and your left opens suddenly to reveal your advisor, Dr. Ameer, poking his bald and bespectacled head out from behind the door before stepping out and standing to his full height, imposing from your current seated perspective.

He looks down at you for a moment before smiling proudly and holding out his hand. “Congratulations!” You take his hand and shake it feeling like the air got kicked out of your chest, only able to let out a breathless squeeze of a ‘thank you’ that your advisor lightly laughs at. “Excellent treatment of the current gap in the literature on the use of implantables for tissue regeneration for rehabilitative purposes in particular--it makes a great start to a thesis project.” He states, taking off his reading glasses.

You nod and say another “thank you,” stronger this time now that your tensed muscles have finally relaxed and Hana's got you wrapped up in a sideways hug. “I'll make sure to, uhm, send you my availability for the next week so we can discuss how I did and how I can improve. We should also start to discuss my thesis--where to start, what we're capable of doing, et cetera.”

“Absolutely. Don't forget to celebrate too, though. You work hard, you deserve the rest.” He says, sitting down in the chair to your right.

“Oh, don't worry about that,” Hana says, clapping you on the shoulder, “I'll make sure they have at least a little fun within the next 24 hours.”

“Thank you for your work keeping them sane.” Dr. Ameer says through a laugh.

“Is this an intervention?” you ask, looking back and forth at the two of them as they both guffaw at your bafflement.

“Alright,” Dr. Ameer starts, standing back up before saying, “Congratulations again, I'll see you on Monday.”

“Thank you, and see you then.” You respond, allowing yourself to finally smile with a gleam of pride in your eyes as he nods and walks off, presumably to his office.

You wait until you know he's out of earshot before bellowing out a, “Thank fucking God…” as Hana squeals, shaking your shoulders in pent-up excitement.

“Hey, don't act like you didn't nail it in there, I heard you, you were great!! Oozing confidence and academic splendor!” Hana responds, dramatically clutching a fist over her heart. “We have to celebrate properly tonight; maybe drinks and dinner at my place--”

“Please don't make it a big thing, it's not like I just defended my thesis,” you say through an exasperated sigh.

“Fine, but we're at least inviting over Colin and Mark--they just passed their quals too.”

An Incredulous and confused look twists your face when you ask, “How do you know? I thought they were presenting just now too?”

“Trivia night people have a group chat--here, look” Hana takes out her phone and shows you a text from Colin with a picture of him smiling with his arm around what looks like Mark, his head tilted back in relief while Colin ruffles his hair.

Your eyes linger on Mark's neck a little too long before you pull your gaze away and clear your throat, saying, “I see.”

“Hey,” Hana says, putting a hand on your shoulder, “we don't have to invite them, or anyone for that matter, especially if they'll make you uncomfortable.”

“No no, thank you, uhm, there's nothing wrong with that. If anything, I probably owe the two of them a thank you, we presented to each other and they both offered some awesome suggestions that I wouldn’t’ve thought of otherwise.”

Hana regards you silently for a moment, eyes narrowing before they widen in shock as she says, “No fucking way.”

“… What?”

“I mean, the two of you becoming civil with each other finally was to be expected, but I never would've thought--”

“Oh,” you say rolling your eyes as you go to stand up, “Okay, I see where this is going--”

“So I'm right then?” Hana grabs her bag and goes to follow you.

“Absolutely not.”

“You were just gazing longingly at Mark!”

“I do not gaze at him,” you wheeze out with a laugh as you push open the doors to the Tech building.

“Okay, so why did you just freeze right now? I refuse to believe it was a nondescript brain fart and you just so happened to zone out looking at Mark's trachea--” Hana finishes her sentence in a whisper to not attract the attention of the undergrads walking past them in the courtyard.

You whip around to look Hana in the eye as you whisper-yell, “What I feel for Mark is the farthest thing from attraction, I can't possibly think of a world where he would inspire anything other than disgust--”

“Denial is a river in Egypt, my friend, and we are in the midwest--”

“God, I can't believe you--” You whirl back around and start walking off in the direction of your apartment.

“I'm inviting them over, and be at mine by 5!!” Hana shouts at your retreating form and you throw up a thumbs up to show your acknowledgment.

Your mind wanders on your way back home; you remember eating a Pizza Bagel during your moc quals with Colin and Mark, the latter suddenly saying, “Wait! Hold still” causing you to freeze in your tracks and your eyes to widen into saucers, thinking a bug or something crawled onto you. He reaches over and gently swipes a thumb across the corner of your mouth before saying“ Rogue pizza sauce” before moving on to the next thing that caught his attention. You're still frozen in place, trying to process what just happened, when Mark absentmindedly licks the tomato sauce off his thumb like he forgot that that was just on your face and not his. Now, something like this usually wouldn’t surprise you--especially given Mark's tendency to forget the simplest of things--but for whatever reason your brain short-circuited; at a complete loss for words, for once in your life not a single thought crossed your mind--just complete radio silence and a faint fluttering feeling in your chest. You didn't notice it at the time, perhaps because you didn't want to, but that fluttering felt different than you expected. You wanted to feel a flush of anger wash over you at his invasion of your personal space but all you could muster was the nauseating fondness you felt that night he walked you home after trivia night.

This realization makes your face twist into a scowl. “Shit…” you say, burying your face deep into your coat.

When you enter Hana’s apartment building, the weight and warmth from your jacket and the building hallway make your skin prickle with sweat. You unzip your jacket and tug a little on your turtleneck’s collar before knocking on her door. A muffled “Hold on!” sounds from behind the door before Hana flings the door open a few seconds later. “Come on in!” she hurries you in while carrying a pan of what looks like an attempt at caramelizing… something?

You take off your shoes and place them on the small rack set up next to the front door before hanging up your coat next to Hana’s on a nearby coat hook. “What are you making?” you question, the medley of smells hitting your nose almost making your eyes water.

“Chicken parm--assuming I'm doing this right,” says over her shoulder while rushing back into her kitchenette, trying not to spill the contents of the very hot pot on her person.

“Hana, I'm not sure if you're supposed to caramelize anything in a chicken parmesan dish?” you follow her timidly into the kitchen, not entirely sure you want to bear witness to what she is concocting.

“You’ve gotta have more faith in my process,” Hana says confidently over her shoulder right before the pan on the stove in front of her bursts into flame. There's a brief scramble As the two of you try to put out the fire, eventually being left with a charred mess sitting in the pan with the two of you staring at it blankly.

“... Portillo's?”

“Yeah,” you respond with a light huff.

You're drying off and putting away dishes as Hana passes them to you after giving them a thorough scrubbing to get off the char from her attempt at cooking dinner. After about two minutes of this Hana puts down the dish she's working on and huffs before saying, “I'm putting on some music, any requests?”

You pause and think for a moment before answering, “Um… I don't know; What've you been listening to lately?”

“This is gonna sound kind of weird, but I've been on a bit of an ABBA kick lately.” She says, drying her hands off before retrieving her phone from the front pocket of her ‘That's not Burnt, that's Flavor’ apron.

“Knowing you, that's not weird at all.” You deadpan before the two of you let out a stream of giggles. Hana taps away at her phone for a couple of seconds, and Chiquitita starts playing from a speaker on the far side of the kitchen to your left. “Oo, that's a good one.”

“Darling, they're all good ones,” Hana says through a playful smirk, making you laugh. The rest of the otherwise boring task goes by much more slowly but more enjoyably with the two of you intermittently stopping to sing along at the top of your lungs with whatever song caught your collective attention, Hana occasionally using whatever cooking utensil was within her grasp as an impromptu fake-microphone. She's in the middle of a surprisingly impressive belt during Lay All Your Love on Me when a confident knocking echoes through the apartment. “Ope, is that them?” she inquires in a suddenly quieter voice with what you detect as a hint of bashfulness--possibly at the prospect of being heard through the door. She briefly checks her phone while you dry the last plate and put it away. “Yep!” she says before doffing her apron and nearly prancing to her front door.

You turn around and open up a cupboard to put away the plate you're holding, but as you reach up you feel a pair of eyes on your back. You close the cabinet door and whirl around only to be met with a pair of infuriatingly disarming green eyes. In your periphery, you can see Mark’s shoulders pitch up slightly before a toothy smile blooms across his face, catching you off guard with the sincerity of it. You clumsily return his smile before congratulating him before dawning a defensive smirk and saying, “I’m glad our corrections weren’t ignored” jokingly implying that was the only thing stopping him from failing.

A grimace distorts Mark’s smile before he opens his mouth to speak, pausing for a second before finally letting out a laugh and saying, “I was about to say that I had to because Botany isn’t exactly as easy as what you do, but saying something is only biomedical sensor engineering doesn’t exactly have the punch I ‘m looking for.” He and Colin take off their shoes and you and Mark close the distance between the two of you before he continues. “Glad to hear you passed too--what is that smell, is something burning?” Mark interrupts himself, halfway through crossing his arms when he finally catches a whiff of the residual char in the air from Hana’s cooking.

“That would be the aftermath of Hana’s attempt at cooking; don’t worry, we called Portillos as soon as the pan lit on fire.” You quickly add after seeing the color drain a bit from Mark’s cheeks.

You wonder if they’ve always been that rosy before he frantically looks between you and Hana and asks, “You lit a pan on fire?!”

“Only a little bit, we put it out quickly--the alarm didn’t even go off.” Hana dismisses Mark’s worry with a wave of her hand while walking over to her speaker to turn its volume down.

“That’s a shame, we could’ve roasted non-stick flavored marshmallows,” Colin jests from his spot at Hana’s kitchen island before she sticks her tongue out at him, sending the lot of you into a laughing fit. “Well, what do we want to do until the dogs get here?”

Hana pauses to think for a second before ducking to rifle through a set of board and card games she keeps under her living room speaker and reemerges with a small red box. “‘We’re Not Really Strangers’?” she punctuates her question by lightly shaking the box, “I’ve got a few packs mixed in here, so we shouldn’t get any repeats if we’re waiting a while.”

Colin responds in the affirmative before enthusiastically walking over to her couch and plopping down with a ‘whoomph.’ Mark shifts next to you before stating in an almost whisper, “This ought to be interesting.” The two of you look at each other and you scan his face, taking in the mirth evident in his lightly freckled face and you lightly nudge him with a wheeze of a laugh before walking over to get a seat at Hana’s coffee table.

How can one person be so fucking warm?? You internally hiss to yourself while sitting next to Mark. The two of you still have about an inch of separation between the two of you but even so, you feel like the warmth radiating off his body is smothering you in a calm you’re trying to steel yourself against. You’re sitting in a half-crisscross position with your leg resting on top of your foot now to make it harder for you to subconsciously inch closer to Mark to try to remedy the ever-present chill that usually plagues you--with what appears to be little success considering the two of you stared out on this couch with about 6 inches of space between the two of you. Mark guffaws heartily at Hana’s answer to the card Colin just pulled and you can feel the seat shake with his laughter, the proximity of his person to yours making your heart ache dully. This is miserable, I’m miserable, why is this happening, why me? Why him?? You wonder to yourself with a slightly pained smile and chuckle while Hana pulls a card from the pile in the center of the table.

“Let’s see--ough, I hate this one; ‘What are your plans for the future?’ survive this Ph.D.” Hana immediately answers with a wheeze of a laugh putting the card in the discard pile.

“Honestly, same--I’m just glad my quals are done so I can focus my time and energy on research,” Colin answers before taking a sip of his water and looking to Mark for his answer.

“Alright, are we talking about, like, the next five years or more of what my endgame is for what I want to do with my life? Because I wouldn’t be able to securely pin that down if my life depended on it.” Mark laughs after Hana tells him to say whatever he has an answer for. He pauses for a moment before continuing. “Well,” he begins, crossing his arms, looking up at the ceiling, and slightly adjusting his position, spreading his legs slightly; it takes every ounce of willpower in every atom of your body not to look down at his legs as he does so. “I’m planning on submitting to the NASA GSRP soon, so, assuming I get awarded it, I’ll be working more with botanists at Kennedy Space Center to develop cultivation experiments for the ARES missions--If they ever happen at all.” Mark finishes with a scoff, making you frown. With the tumultuous nature of how government is run, it's becoming increasingly difficult to gauge if there’ll be funding for ambitious space missions like the budding ARES program. Mark abruptly turns to you--itching to turn the attention away from himself--and asks, “What about you?”

You’re given pause by the way Mark abruptly changes the subject, but answer anyway. “Oh, um, I’m headed to Pasadena in the spring; I’m working with one of the engineers there on electronics for a Lunar water surveyor--seems like we’re both NASA-bound. You’ll have to tell me more about the project you’re submitting for, it seems interesting--we might even be able to collaborate a little bit, depending on how far my work on this surveyor goes.”

You end your answer with a coy smirk and for a flash of a second, you could've sworn you saw Mark’s eyes briefly cast downwards to your lips before rocketing back up to meet yours. No, that can’t be possible. God, I’m losing it-- you think to yourself before the man in question interrupts your internal agonizing. “Oh, so you think I’m good enough to get the fellowship?” He inquires with a jesting tone, ducking his head to look up at you through his eyelashes, his vermillion eyes scrutinizing you through the varying shades of blond and brown.

You look at him incredulously and answer before thinking better of voicing your knee-jerk reaction, “Of course; I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” The realization of what you said hits you like a ton of bricks flying at you at Mach 1 as you see Mark’s cheeks flush. Again with the rosy cheeks? Did I make him uncomfortable? Was that too much? Shit, does he think I like him now? Fuck--

“Ah, well, I’ve got nothing to worry about then--if even you think I could do it.” Mark laughs and claps a hand on your shoulder, making you let out a huff and a chuckle in relief at his jovial tone, thinking you’ve narrowly escaped being found out.

“Alright, enough work talk--” Colin captures your attention after letting out a light chuckle and motions for you to pick up a card. “Your turn, Inspector Gadget.”

You lightly chortle before reaching over to pick a card up from the top of the pile of unused cards. “‘Do you think I��m a good kisser?’ Hana, I thought you said these were from the friendship pack???” The whole table bursts into laughter while Hana chokes out a confirmation that it is indeed from the friendship pack. “Alright, out with it, what are your verdicts?” you ask through an exasperated sigh.

“Honestly, I think you’d be a great kisser, remember when we visited Vanessa’s mom in Vegas and you somehow tied two cherry stems with your tongue? While drunk no less--” Hana interrupts herself with her own laughter as you choke on the water you’re drinking at the mention of that night.

“Fuck, I forgot about that!” you cough out. “If it means anything, I had to use my teeth for most of that--I was afraid I was going to swallow the things both times,” you confess with a chuckle.

“Yeah, I don’t know how good of an indicator that is; one of my exes also could tie a cherry stem with his tongue, but the first time we kissed he practically shoved his tongue down my throat.” Colin weighed in with a scoff before continuing, “What do you think Mark?”

Mark pauses for a moment and in that calm, you notice that he’s draped his arm over the seat cushion behind you. In an unexpected wave of wreckless confidence--at least, that’s what you’d call it--you decide to lean back into his arm, immediately relishing in how warm he is. He considers you for a moment, a surprised look on his face before answering, “Honestly I feel like you could go either way; either you’re a mind-numbingly great, or criminally terrible, no in-between” Hana and Colin break into a side-splitting laugh and you ask him to please explain what his reasoning is behind that answer. “You… you--” Mark interrupts his sentence with a breathy laugh, looking up and away from you before continuing. “Alright, look, you… have a lot of surprising things about you and they’re all, like extremes--”

“Yeah???” you interject, your face contorted into an incredulous smirk.

“Yes, let me finish--”

“Please do--”

“So, I think it would be one of those things that you’re, like, inexplicably good at for no fucking reason, or you’d exceed my expectations and be worse than I thought you’d be.” He finishes, barely able to hold back his chortles.

“And what exactly were your expectations?” you ask, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at the revelation that he’s thought about kissing you before. You try your best to stamp out those thoughts before your infuriatingly lovesick brain can indulge in them, thinking God, I’m hopeless. Mark pauses for a second, looking at you apprehensively. You can feel his arm shift on the cushion behind you as he agonizes about whether or not to tell you. “...Mark--”

“That you’d be kind of mid--” he admits with a grimace.

“WOW!” you exclaim, laughing like you just got the air punched out of you. “The amount of confidence you have in me is truly inspiring--is there anything you think I do well?”

“Piss me off--” The four of you lose your minds with laughter; you go to grip your leg to brace yourself against but accidentally slap your hand against Mark’s. The muscles in his leg tense and you freeze. You feel like you should--no, have to--move your hand but for whatever reason the signals your brain is sending to your arm are getting lost in transit, leaving your hand planted steadfastly on top of his quadricep. A spark of surprise flashes through his eyes for a moment before he moves his hand to grasp at yours, still resting on his leg. “You do that perfectly--”

“Fuck off,” you draw your hand out of his grasp, laughing to yourself and unable to look him in the eye.

☆☆☆

After your Portillos arrive you all dig in, opting to put your card game away in favor of watching a Seinfeld rerun while you all eat. Mark tries to focus on his hot dog to get the memory of how your hand felt on his leg out of his mind. I suppose that’s my fault for not noticing how close we were getting. Did they want that? Why did I want that?? Fuck, I hope I didn’t make them uncomfortable-- Mark takes a deep breath after swallowing a mouthful of hot dog to try to calm his racing thoughts. He feels a pair of eyes on him while he zones out watching the TV and turns his gaze in your direction. You stare back at him with an indiscernible expression before asking, “You okay?”

He smiles and nods, trying not to let his inner turmoil show, “Yeah, I’m good--just starting to get a little tired.” At least that much was true; the fatigue of the past couple weeks of preparation for his quals had decided to dump itself on him now that the adrenaline of the whole ordeal had dissipated. You hum and nod before patting him on the back, an alarmingly comforting gesture that Mark didn’t expect to appreciate as much as he did. The four of you continued to watch Seinfeld until he could feel his eyelids begin to droop. Shit, he thought, I can’t be this tired right now, I still need to get home-- His train of thought is interrupted when he feels you slump against his shoulder gently. He looks down at your now asleep form and huffs out a silent laugh, finding you asleep for a second time that week. He looks up to Colin and Hana, who both seem to be engrossed in the exploits of George and Jerry, before he decides to rest his eyes for a second as well, thinking there wasn’t any harm in taking a moment to rest for once. Mark nods off before he can hear Hana and Colin snicker to themselves.

===

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#the martian #mark watney #andy weir #the martian(2015)#mark watney x reader #gn!reader #mark watney x gn!reader #academic rivals #self insert #no use of y/n #two body problem

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f4wnb0n3z · 4 months

Text

i present to you my ✨ boy breakfast ✨

whole wheat bread with avocado oil margerine - 100kcal

the supplements i take are: 2 multivitamin gummies, 2 hair-and-nails gummies, 2 metamucil fibre, 1 iron, 1 apple cider vinegar + green tea extract pill, biotin, and vitamin c. i also plan to eventually add magnesium to the roster!

PSA: please remember to take your supplements and vitamins; don't even count the cals in them, as theyre so insignificant and youll probably burn the cals just by digesting the supplements themselves. please, stay safe and take your vitamins. we already put our bodies through enough, please at least give it the essentials!

#pro for me not for thee #tw restriction #tw ed but not sheeran #light as a 🪶#adult ana #🕯️as a feather #@nor3×14 #⭐️rving #⭐️ve #⭐️ ing motivation #skin&🩻fightback #skinand🦴#m3alspo

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jplupine · 11 months

Text

Day 14: Kisuke Urahara ~ Body Swap

Pairing: Kisuke Urahara x Wynter Hughes [Nonbinary OC] Word Count: ~4.7k Date Published: October 14, 2023 WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, Sub!Switch!Kisuke, Body Swap, Age Gap, Teasing, Throat Grabbing, Vaginal Fingering, Finger Sucking, Vaginal Sex, Biting, Hair Pulling, Light Praise, Creampie Note: Terms such as pussy/cock/dick/etc. get used. Wynter also uses the term 'good boy' to refer to Kisuke. If that makes you uncomfortable, you might want to skip this fic.

Summary: An unlikely accident leaves Wynter and Kisuke in the wrong bodies....but it's not all bad.

You can also read it on AO3!

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

"So I went over these papers, and they seem legit." I said while placing the manila envelope on the table Kisuke sat at. His fan was open in front of his face and slowly waving as he looked up at me. "Whoever you had make them did a good job."

"I feel better having a professional give them a passing grade." Kisuke smiled as he closed the fan. "Have some tea." He leaned forward to grab the teapot and pour some of the liquid inside into a green cup.

Sitting down on the cushion by the table, I accepted the drink before pointing at the envelope.

"You do know my profession isn't meant for that, right?"

"Close enough." Kisuke chuckled. "I do want to thank you for your time, though."

"I'll take your thanks in the form of a snack. Today has been exhausting." I sighed while leaning on the table and took a drink of tea.

"Oh?"

"I've been running a lot of errands."

"Ah. I was hoping to hear some drama." Kisuke stood up and went over to a little cabinet to pull out a basket of packaged snacks. He then set them on the table in front of me before sitting back down.

"Sorry. My life isn't that exciting." I chuckled while grabbing one of the sweetbreads. "What about you? You're always itching to share something."

"Oh! Glad you ask." Kisuke reached into his sleeve and produced a small metallic box with a little screen and knobs. "I've made a breakthrough on this! Not quite finished yet."

"What is it?" I tilted my head and took a bite from the bread. My cheek was in my hand as I looked at the device.

"I haven't named it yet." I saw how his eyes lit up and he crawled around the table to sit next to me. "However, it's designed to extract souls and implant them into other vessels. It will come in handy for Shinigami that get stuck in their Gigais or to place troublesome individuals into a less troublesome body."

"Huh. That does sound useful. Can you use it to put Kon in a Pez dispenser?" My question made him start laughing.

"Perhaps. I haven't tested it with artificial souls as of yet. But maybe he'd get in less trouble then."

"Wait, so you've tested this already?" I looked at him with furrowed brows, and he grinned.

"Of course! Willing participants only this time. That's how I know some things need fixing. It requires a recharge time that's quite annoying, for starters."

"Holy shit. So it actually works?" I leaned in closer to get a better look at the device, and Kisuke was giddy to share.

"Absolutely! I also made it easy to use for the less tech-savvy among us." He set the device down on the table and pushed a button, lighting up the screen with a yellow glow. Turning one nob, a radar came on the screen and showed two dots side by side. "Those dots are our souls. Using this here to select the soul you want to be transferred, you then push this to select the new vessel."

"Oh, that is easy."

"Would you like to see?"

"....See you switch a soul?"

"Yes. I've used this on myself a few times now, so I know it's perfectly safe."

"You know what? Yeah. I gotta see this." I took a bite from the sweet bread as Kisuke jumped to his feet and went digging around in a cabinet to pull out a stuffed animal. The plush was of a cute little monkey that he placed on the table next to the device.

"Let me select my soul....and then the new vessel." Kisuke hummed.

"Wait, so what happens to your body when you aren't in it?"

"It goes into a sleep-like state. Think of it like a plane with no pilot but the engine is still running. It still works, but it won't go anywhere." Kisuke waved his finger while explaining.

"You!" Kon's voice came screeching from the other side of the room. "You have some nerve coming back here!" He ran and jumped onto the table to tackle the monkey plushie while crashing into the device and knocking over the tea.

"Kon!" Kisuke and I both yelled as the device sparked from getting soaked in tea. The idiot lion wasn't listening and was wrestling with the monkey on the floor without realizing the monkey was lifeless.

"Wynter, move!" Kisuke suddenly pushed me down while using his own body as a shield when the device sparked more and created a loud pop that made my ears ring.

I could smell smoke and Kon hollering about how he killed the monkey. Slowly opening my eyes, I saw the floor and my hair. I pushed myself up while groaning and holding my throbbing head.

"Oh, this is going to be a problem."

"Huh?" I looked down again to see icy eyes looking back. Blinking a few times, I realized that I was looking at my own face from above.

Rearing back, I looked down at myself to see Kisuke's clothes as my body sat up. Glancing at the table, I saw the device smoking in a puddle of tea with the screen broken.

"Oh, fuck." I muttered and heard Kisuke's voice instead of my own.

"I have the materials to fix this, but it will take some time." Kisuke held his chin as he looked at me. "So this is how you see me? I seem quite large."

"Kisuke, please. How long will it take you to fix it?"

"Mm. Not sure." He picked up his hat from the floor and put it on only for it to sink down since my head was smaller than his. "This will take some getting used to." He repositioned the hat to be able to see.

"What are you two doing? Pretending to be each other?" Kon climbed onto the table, and my hand shot out to grab him by the throat. His body squeaked when I grabbed him, and I was glaring down at him.

"That was just a stuffed monkey, you little twerp."

"O-Old man?" Kon pat my hand as his legs kicked.

"Try again." I squeezed harder, and Kisuke placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Wynter, try to calm down. I'll go ahead and start working on repairs." Kisuke then stretched out his arms and back while groaning only to pause mid-stretch. "Huh...." He then began to stretch more and move around. "My, my. Your body has quite a range of motion. Now I'm rather curious...."

"Focus, Kisuke." I tossed Kon to the side while standing up straight. "I want my body back."

"And you'll get it." He was stretching his legs before squatting. "I was not expecting your body to be like this. Oh, stop frowning so much. You'll give me wrinkles."

"Kisuke."

"Sorry, sorry."

"The tools feel different, but I must say, your hands being this small and steady has actually made this delicate work easier." Kisuke explained as he was messing with some wires in the soul device.

"Glad you're having a good time. I keep running into things." I grumbled while rubbing the back of my neck. I wasn't used to being as tall and broad as Kisuke, so I kept misjudging distances, bumping into counter and table corners and even doorways. I'd lost count of how many times I'd hit my head on things at this point.

"Be careful with me. I don't want to get my body back covered in bruises."

"Bruises should be the least of your worries." I replied, and Kisuke paused before looking at me.

"What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything. But it feels like I have to pee."

"Ah." He paused before glancing between the device and me. "I'm not going to be done with this any time soon."

"Well....what should I do then? I don't think you want me seeing your privates."

"Come on." Kisuke sighed while setting down the tools and getting up. He led the way to the bathroom, and when the door closed behind me, he pointed at me. "Keep your eyes covered. No peeking."

"This is so awkward." I muttered while covering my eyes with my hands. Kisuke then guided me toward the toilet, and I heard the lid being lifted. He then got his hands behind the waistband of the pants only to pause.

"You're not peeking, right?"

"I respect your privacy. I'm not looking, I promise."

"Aw, how polite." He pushed the pants down along with the underwear. "Hm. My butt looks better than I thought it did."

"Kisuke."

"Sorry. All right, here we go." I tried to ignore how it felt when he put my hands on his body and could only hope he would wash my hands afterward. "Oh, my." Kisuke muttered under his breath.

"What? What's wrong?" I began to feel anxious but kept my eyes covered.

"Nothing's wrong. I'm just used to seeing my own hands in comparison."

"....Are you seriously admiring your own dick in my hand?"

"In my defense, it's hard not to. I like my body, and you have cute hands." I could only heavily sigh while shaking my head.

"Hi, Yui! This is a friend of Wynter's. They got caught up with some work things and were wondering if you could go check on Dagur. Oh, yes. Wynter is right here." I turned and held the phone toward Kisuke as he was screwing something into the device. Without looking up, he spoke loud enough to be heard.

"Hey, Yui. My hands are full right now, and I don't have the time to let Dagur out. Do you think you could? I promise I'll pay you back."

"I want barbecue then!" Yui's voice came from the phone, and Kisuke chuckled.

"Deal. Thank you." The call ended shortly after with only a few more things said, and I sighed with relief. "After I fix this, I would love to meet this Dagur."

"Yeah, well, you owe him, too. So bring treats."

"How big is this dog?"

"He's a red heeler. About up to here." I held my hand by my leg before realizing with how tall Kisuke was, my hand was much higher than intended. "Well, here." Lowering my hand, Kisuke chuckled.

"That gives me a better idea of what type of treats to bring then."

"Are you almost done?" I asked while leaning over his shoulder.

"Not yet. I'm having to replace a lot of parts that got fried." He replied, and I watched him work. Kisuke seemed to already be used to working with my hands as he changed out wires and parts I didn't recognize at all.

While being so close, I noticed how nice I smelled while recognizing my shampoo first. At least now I could confirm that I didn't stink, much to my relief. However, I felt something stir inside.

I didn't know what was happening in Kisuke's body as his heart picked up pace and his skin tingled. Glancing at Kisuke, I cleared my throat.

"Hey, Kisuke?"

"Hm?"

"Do you have gut issues?"

"No. I'm quite healthy. Why?"

"I'm getting some weird feelings."

"Weird? Did you eat something too spicy?"

"No. It's hard to explain." I tilted my head, and Kisuke turned to look at me with furrowed brows. He then grabbed my face in his hands to bring me closer.

"You feel a little warm. Look otherwise fine though.... Stand up." Kisuke gestured, and I did as told. He then placed his ear against my stomach to listen. "I don't hear any strange gurgling."

"Well, I'm still feeling it."

"Any pain or discomfort?" Kisuke asked while sliding his hand down the wide gap in the samue to get to my stomach. His other hand was on my lower back as he pressed against different areas on my abdomen. "I don't feel any bloating or swelling."

"No pain but some discomfort."

"Where?"

"Lower."

"Here?"

"It's-" I cut myself off while looking down at him as he was looking back at me. Kisuke raised his eyebrows in question, and I had to blink a few times. "It's a boner."

"What?"

"Boner." I pointed, and he looked down to see the growing erection beneath my pants. Kisuke gasped before pulling down my shirt to cover it.

"Wynter!"

"What?!"

"How could you possibly mistake that for stomach issues?!"

"Hello?! I don't usually have a penis, Kisuke!"

"Don't look!"

"Oh my-" Heavily sighing, I looked toward the ceiling and placed my hands on my hips. "I heard this could happen at random, but I didn't think it was this random."

"It's usually not for me. What the Hell were you thinking about?"

"Soap."

"Soap? I would not get a boner thinking about soap."

"Look, I was thinking about soap, and your body reacted. This is on you."

"I don't-" Kisuke grumbled under his breath. "Okay, what kind of soap were you thinking about?"

"Mine. I could smell it while leaning over your shoulder. Oh, but I was also watching you work. Maybe you have a tech fetish- I'm not judging." I shrugged while keeping my eyes on the ceiling, but the feeling of the erection wasn't going away at all. Kisuke also went quiet. "Kisuke?"

He didn't respond. Looking down at him, I saw his cheeks were flushed red as he firmly gripped my shirt.

"Kisuke?" I repeated while tilting my head to the side. He looked up at me and cleared his throat.

"I don't have a thing for soap or tech. Also....wow, I look good from this angle, too."

"....Oh. Oh!" My eyes widened as I realized what was happening. "I thought you were straight."

"Not quite."

"Then you being right there probably won't make it go away."

"But I don't want you to see it." His blush darkened, and I took in a slow breath while thinking.

"Are you this embarrassed because you're modest....or because it's me?"

"....Because it's you." He muttered. Keeping one hand on my hip, I used the other to lift his chin.

"This whole situation is just a big mess, okay? I'm not used to this. I also don't know how to deal with it, and it's still not going away. Just tell me what I should do."

"You really...." He trailed off and swallowed. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" His question made me pause before leaning forward to place my hands on the table on either side of him. Bringing my face closer, I looked him in the eye.

"I won't say I'm not curious as to what it feels like to use an actual penis. And I'll be honest, this wasn't how I thought I'd get inside you." His eyes widened as he realized what I meant.

"Wynter!"

"Aren't you also curious?" Slipping my knee between his, I pushed his legs apart to make room for me to be able to stand even closer.

"....Oh. You're not just joking."

"Not right now, no."

"Quick question, then. When you said 'this wasn't how I thought I'd get inside you,' what did you mean by that exactly?"

"I own a strap."

"Okay, so then you meant exactly what I thought you meant." Kisuke nodded with his brows raised. "Well....I think this could be interesting." He let go of the hem of the shirt he'd still been holding down.

Standing up straight, my gaze dropped as I undid the knot keeping the shirt closed. Taking off the top layers, I could see the curves of Kisuke's body and the prominent bulge. The trail of messy blond hair going from his belly button disappeared behind the waistband of his pants.

"Not bad, old man." I smirked while rubbing my jaw and feeling his stubble.

"Thank you."

"You still okay if I continue?"

"Yes. Strangely enough, this is doing something for me." Kisuke chuckled, and I hooked my thumbs behind the pants to push them down along with the underwear.

Looking down at his cock, my heart beat faster. It was actually quite pretty.

"Am I allowed to also see you?" Kisuke asked while grabbing the front of the shirt he wore.

"Of course." I watched him stand up, and getting to see my face and body from this angle brought back Kisuke's comment from earlier. I had pretty good self-esteem to begin with, and seeing myself through his eyes let me see that I could be rather cute.

The way Kisuke blushed and looked at my body while undressing had my attention. Was he thinking about the same things I was? Or was he disappointed at what he saw?

"I would've liked getting to see this with my own eyes."

"Really? Well, there'll be a chance once we get our bodies back."

"I'd like that." Kisuke looked up at me before I grabbed his hips and lifted him onto the edge of the table. My body was lighter than I had expected, or perhaps Kisuke was stronger than I thought.

"How do you like to be touched?"

"I'll show you." Kisuke cupped his hand around the back of my head to bring me down into a kiss. It was strange feeling my own body in such a way, but I didn't dislike it. Our lips moved together with some hesitance, and when I brought myself closer, it became hungry.

Kisuke slid his tongue into my mouth as his other hand ran up my arm. I placed my hands on his knees and let my palms travel higher. I knew the spots where my body was sensitive and intentionally sought them out. Kisuke moaned into the kiss while moving his hand from my shoulder downward.

My stomach twitched when he brushed his fingers over it. He traced the curves of muscles, going lower until his fingers went through the patch of blond hair. I felt my cock twitch from the touch and found the feeling quite interesting.

The dull throb was certainly different from what I was used to. Kisuke palmed my dick as my hands traveled up his back. We parted from the kiss while panting as drool bridged between our mouths.

"That feels good." My voice was breathy as he was stroking along the shaft. Kisuke smirked before circling his fingers around the head and pumped his hand. My hips bucked as my breath shook.

A tingle shot up my spine and branched out over my skin as I groaned. My forehead rested against his shoulder with his hand still stroking and his thumb brushing over the tip. Sliding my hand down his side, I then went up his stomach to his chest.

Being in Kisuke's body meant that I could use his big hands the way I knew my body liked. Groping and caressing, I began to hear Kisuke's breath falter. My other hand went between his thighs, feeling how wet he already was. I couldn't help but smirk and glance down to see a mess on the table under him.

Closing my hand around his neck, I stood straight while making him look up at me. His pupils were wide with arousal, and I watched his expression shift as I ran my fingers over his clit. Kisuke's thighs flexed as his lips parted with a soft moan.

"My, my, Kisuke." My tone was low and nearly a purr, and hearing his voice instead of my own also sent heat straight to my groin. "You could certainly make me melt. I bet your fingers feel really good in my pussy too. I mean, look at the mess you're making when I'm just doing this." Kisuke moaned with his back arching as I had my fingers on either side of his clit.

"Why is your body....so sensitive?" Kisuke grunted as my hips kept his legs spread.

"I know what feels good to my body. I know exactly where to touch, to tease, and even how much I can take. So keep notes, Kisuke." I grinned with my face hovering over his before sliding my fingers into his wet heat. He grabbed the wrist of the hand holding his neck as his head fell back with another moan.

Biting my bottom lip, I watched him squirm while pumping my fingers. I knew where the spot was that would really get him, but I avoided it for now to let this drag out. Feeling slick drip down my knuckles had my cock throbbing more as I thought about fucking him.

I wanted to know what it'd feel like to sink my cock into his pussy- even if it was technically his cock and my pussy. I was torn between just fucking him and teasing him a little more.

"Wy-Wynter!"

"What?"

"You...." I felt him swallow beneath my palm before speaking again. "You're just dragging this out. Come on." He panted and pulled me closer by hooking his legs over my hips.

"Aren't you eager?" I cooed before curling my fingers against the spot that made his thighs clench and his back to arch. His moan and kiss-swollen lips seemed so inviting.

He shivered, and I pulled my fingers free as arousal stretched between my fingers and his pussy. And, seeing it from this angle, I was getting a better understanding of how I drove previous bed partners wild. I could also feel the grin pulling the corners of my mouth up.

Giving Kisuke a quick kiss, I was still grinning as I placed my wet fingers into his mouth.

"How's it taste?" I asked, and only a lusty groan came as a response. He licked and sucked the slick off my fingers with his grip tightening around my wrist. My mind was already racing with the possibilities of what we could do while switched and after we got our bodies back.

Kisuke ran his tongue between my fingers to get every last drop cleaned off.

"Good boy." I purred while releasing my fingers from his soft lips. Reaching down, I grabbed his hip to pull him closer to the edge of the table. Grabbing my cock, I ran the head through his slick first before prodding at his entrance.

Feeling the wet heat of his pussy wrap around the tip of my dick made my thighs tense as so many unfamiliar sensations washed over me. I wanted more, to just dive in and feel him all around me.

My eyes closed when I thrust my hips until my body was flush against his. Electricity danced across my skin as my scalp tingled. The heat rushing through my veins felt like fire, and I rested my forehead against his.

"Kisuke...." I licked my lips while sliding my hand from his throat to the back of his neck. "I think every fiber of my fucking being is screaming at me."

"You have a way of making me feel like that." Kisuke's response made me look him in the eye. It was a surprise to hear such a thing from him. In all the time I'd known him, it was rare for him to truly talk about his feelings, and he seemed quite sincere.

Brushing my nose against his, I then kissed him. It was sweet and slow as I pulled my hips back. Keeping one hand on the back of his neck, I placed the other on the table behind him. Kisuke slid his fingers into my hair and leaned into the kiss to deepen it.

Thrusting back into him, I softly groaned into the kiss, and Kisuke nipped my bottom lip. His legs were still holding me close as he lightly tugged on my hair. It was hard to maintain a slow pace, but I needed to do it or all of these new sensations would overwhelm me.

Feeling him around my cock was bliss, and having his arms and legs wrapped around me made it even better. The warmth of his soft skin and his tongue against mine had my fingers tangling in his hair near the base of his skull. Pulling on his hair, I forced his head back as he moaned.

My lips were on his throat, kissing and nipping the spots I knew made me feel weak. I could feel Kisuke melting in my arms as he clung to me. The table rocked from my thighs hitting the edge of it, causing everything on top to rattle with each thrust.

It felt so good, and I went harder. Groaning with my face buried in his neck, I felt his nails drag down my back in a way that added a delicious sting to the pleasure. I pulled his hair again while licking up his throat to his jaw.

"I thought you were gonna show me what feels good, Kisuke." I muttered while grinning since his eyes were tightly shut with his brows knit together in pleasure. His eyes then fluttered open to look at me.

"I'm not....used to this." His voice was breathy as one hand slid up to the back of my neck.

"Feels good, though, don't it? You're making so many pretty sounds for me."

"You're giving your secrets away."

"But will you remember them?" I asked as my lips brushed along his jaw and my balls smacked against his ass. His jaw clenched with a grunt.

"Oh, absolutely." He kissed me and was panting when he pulled away. "I want to make you feel the way I feel right now." There was a promise in his eyes that sent a tingle of excitement up my spine.

"Mmm. I like the sound of that." Letting go of his hair to grab his thigh, I lifted it higher onto my hip to get a better angle that made Kisuke's back arch into me. Leaning more on my hand on the table, I pistoned my cock in and out of his pussy as slick smeared on my balls.

Moaning, I could hear how low Kisuke's voice could get. I felt him clench around me and cursed under my breath. I needed more, pulling him even closer until we were chest to chest. Wrapping an arm around his back, I lifted him from the table.

Kisuke took in a sharp breath while locking his legs around my waist and his arms around the back of my neck. Smirking, I looked him in the eye.

"I knew you were stronger than you looked." I said while feeling how his body could easily hold up mine. With our faces close, I began to bounce him on my cock while groaning.

Kisuke buried his face into my neck, and he began to suck on a certain spot that made my hips buck. The feeling of his hot, wet mouth as his tongue lapped there made my head light and my dick to throb. The wet pop from when he let go was followed by a moan.

Grazing my teeth down the side of his neck, I felt him shiver in my arms. I bit down only hard enough to leave a mark without breaking the skin. Kisuke whimpered near my ear as his nails dug into my shoulders.

I was spiraling and feeling a primal need that had my hips snapping into Kisuke. My mind was going utterly blank as tension built within. Groaning, my hold on him tightened, and his thighs were squeezing my sides.

"Wynter! I think- Oh, fuck~!" Kisuke moaned as his nails dug in deeper and he began to shiver. I feel him clenching around my cock, and it drove me over the edge.

My balls tensed as a surge of heat went through my dick. It was mind-numbing to the point that it took me a second to even realize what was happening. Slamming into Kisuke, I couldn't stop myself from filling him with cum as my cock throbbed deep inside him.

Panting and groaning, I could feel the mix of bodily fluids dripping to the floor. Kisuke had his head resting on my shoulder as a sense of relaxation washed over me. Listening to Kisuke trying to catch his breath as he shivered had me rubbing my hand over his back.

"Would....Would you be mad if I waited just a little bit longer to fix the device?" Kisuke muttered while going limp in my arms. "I'd like to rest a bit....and perhaps do that again."

"Mm. I guess it couldn't hurt being this way a little longer." My face was in his hair when I kissed his head before whispering. "You'll just owe me dinner."

"Deal."

#31 days of bleach #kisuke urahara #bleach smut #kisuke urahara smut #bleach #sub character #sub!kisuke urahara #sub kisuke urahara #sub!character #bleach fanfic #oc x canon #kinktober 2023 #lemon #Wolf does fanfic

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beautyfineshopparis · 1 year

Text

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neonponders · 2 years

Text

Part 26 for @wrecked-fuse ‘s pocketverse 🥐

Part 25

( pt. 7′s art 🎩 ) ( pt. 9′s art 👀 ) ( pt. 14′s art 💨 ) ( pt. 19′s art 🦇 ) ( pt. 20′s art 🍳)

~ on ao3 ~

• • •

Eddie didn’t bother with the front door. He came around the side yard, waving a hand, while the large black butterfly that was small Eddie tried to keep up with his strides. Like an instinctive warning had chimed, large Eddie pauseed to catch him, and set a huffing and puffing little guy on the table.

“Good morrow, all.”

Small Billy said outright, “I thought you could fwy?”

“Short distances! I’m not a dwagon,” little Eddie defended.

“He’s trying,” the bigger Eddie consoled and gently extracted Chrissy from a gingham shirt pocket that did not look like his. From the hard grease smear alongside the buttons, they could guess it belonged to Eddie’s uncle, who alternated shifts at the local chemical plant and automotive factory.

Little Steve greeted, “Mornin’, Chwissy. Want some fwuit?”

She started to answer, but little Eddie’s pathetic collapse made her attend to him first. Little Steve and Billy helped her get him up as he whined, “Don’ step on my wings.”

Large Billy nodded backwards toward the kitchen. “There’s coffee in the pot.”

“Sweet,” Eddie said, glad for an escape out of socially obligated nonsense.

Billy’s eyes drifted over the littles, before settling on his own, who munched on a morsel of peach. Billy nudged the little’s back for his attention. “Is it good?”

“It’s zippy. Wike, it’s not all sweet. I wike that.”

“Me too,” he crooned in his morning baritone. A small smile curved Billy’s face as his little walked between his fingers to sit on the back of his palm, examining his silver banded ring by knocking a tiny fist against it.

Meanwhile, big Steve asked, “Chrissy, what do you guys like to eat?”

She threw her hands up with a jubilant, “Croissants!”

Steve’s brows flew up, disappearing under his hair. “Oh.”

Eddie emerged from the house with a mug of coffee. “The Pillsbury kind. Do you know what that is, Harrington.”

Steve sighed as he pushed himself up. “Yeah, the can is green, right?”

He smirked at Eddie, who stood by, unamused before he decided he might be allowed to sink into a seat. Billy heard the beep of the oven turning on and considered mini croissant sandwiches to be a good start to the day. “Where’s your girlfriend?”

“She’s not, and she’s got like church or whatever.”

Billy snorted, but any inclination for a reply went silent as he watched Steve sneak behind Eddie with a familiar blue cylinder, mostly brown now since he’d torn off the outer layer of paper. He thwacked it against Eddie’s chair, causing the dough inside to burst and the cylinder popped.

Eddie went rigid like an electric current had passed through him. Steve snickered and bent over to lean on the table, showing the littles. Small Billy and Steve exclaimed at the stickiness while Chrissy poked it once, preferring to sniff and say, “It smells nice.”

“Croissants coming right up,” Steve announced, only to have small Billy flagging him down.

“Take me with you!”

He set his hand down for little Billy to get settled on his palm and offered to little Eddie, “Let’s get you some water, huh?”

The poor guy looked drunk off of a cube of peach, but he climbed on and little Billy held his hand to make sure he stayed on for the ride to the kitchen.

It was Eddie’s turn to ask, “Do you like to cook?”

“Sometimes,” Billy responded.

“Your little guy sure seems to enjoy it.”

“I like people who cook even more,” he said before going in for a sip of his tea.

Eddie joined him with his coffee. “Subtle.”

They listened to little Steve and Chrissy chitchat until little Billy’s voice piqued their interest and they took the littles to the breakfast bar. Little Billy took great pride in helping Steve roll up the dough, especially licking off jam when it leaked out of the croissants with jam filling.

As soon as little Steve was standing on the counter, he exclaimed, “Biwwy! Why’rwe you slimy?”

Instead of getting an answer, Billy poked his cheek and licked the jam off little Steve’s face. “Because it’s yummy.”

Big Steve put the tray in the oven and promptly started filling the Barbie pool with warm water. A morning in the pool doubled as a bath.

Eddie watched his little pick up an escaped blueberry and offer it to Chrissy. “Wanna share?”

As they passed the jammy fruit back and forth, Eddie remarked, “I didn’t expect mine to be the prudent ones. If you’re not careful, they’ll eat each other.”

Large Billy countered, “They’re only in danger of me eating them.”

Small Steve shook his head as he stepped onto the towel laying like concrete around the pool. “Siwwy Biwwy. If you nom nom us, then you’ll be wonely.”

Billy loomed close to the counter, face sneaking up behind little Steve. “Or you’ll always be where I can find you.” He snapped his teeth, causing the little guy to jump.

“EE! Hey!”

He grinned like a wolf and made kissy noises. Steve stomped over, cheeks aflame until his momentum made him fully run into Billy’s lips, hugging his face. “Meanie.”

A strange burst of pain hit Billy’s jaw, making him lean back and realize small Billy stood next to Steve, glaring fiercely. Large Billy realized, “Did you just kick me?”

The little guy inhaled so deeply, his chest lifted like a cartoon character. “DON’T SCARWE STEVIE!”

To large Billy’s credit, he kept his voice mellow. “The little guy’s been bossing me around all morning.”

“IT’S GOOD IF IT’S STEVIE!”

On quiet, careful feet, Chrissy approached little Billy and rubbed a hand on his back. Like wind almost blowing a candle out, his anger collapsed before he recovered. Between deciding not to fight anymore, and simply being too tired, little Billy grabbed Steve in one arm and held Chrissy’s hand as he stomped over to where little Eddie stood on tiptoes to slurp down a bottle cap’s worth of water.

Big Billy stood up, only to face Steve with one hand on the counter and another on his hip. "He’s sensitive in the mornings.”

“He’s always sensitive,” Billy snapped, then diffused once he realized what he said.

“That’s why we jazzercize,” Steve finished and then exhaled, “but there’s no jazzercise on Sundays.”

As the uncomfortable quiet of waiting for the oven to finish filled the room, Eddie knocked his rings against the counter before eventually admitting, “Should I go, or...?”

However neither Steve nor Billy answered at first. Billy turned the oven light on to see inside the window, while Steve’s head sagged to the side. Eddie rolled his eyes. He’d thought bringing his littles over would be a nice break but these two were a piece of work -

The front door burst open, and Eddie heard Robin yell, “Kitchen?”

“Yeah,” Steve droned with a look at Eddie as if to say, That’s why you might as well stay.

Robin strolled in, smiling at the smell, only to freeze with her hands up as if to catch something. “Why is the energy weird in here?”

“Billy needs to apologize to Billy.”

“Again?”

Eddie snorted, earning glares from everyone involved. He shrugged happily. “I’m feeling so great about myself. Ignore me and continue.”

To everyone’s surprise, Max strolled in. Her stepbrother frowned. “Where’d you come from?”

“A lake,” she sassed.

Robin elaborated, “I cut through your street and she was skateboarding. I gave her a lift on my bike.”

“I was cleaning off my wheels,” Max finished as she took a seat next to Eddie.

Steve chimed, “Thanks,” before he watched little Billy tote little Steve over to Max and demand entry to her hoodie pocket.

With them cradled in the pocket on her lap, she lifted wide eyes at her brother. “What happened?”

Blue eyes lolled in their sockets. “Little guy can’t take a joke.”

“So...like you?”

Billy’s lips pursed, a sure sign he was about to spit fire, but Max beat him to it with, “Our parents leave for the week.”

That relaxed Billy’s mouth. “Right. Sunday...”

Max confirmed, “They’ll want to see you before they go.”

“Yeah,” Billy played off indifferently, but he stood up off the counter beside the oven and said, “I need to change clothes.”

“After they’re gone, you can make it up to B with a sleepover.”

Both Billy and Steve froze. Robin tried and failed to hide a smile. Max did far better in keeping her humor to herself. “I mean, Steve doesn’t have to do all the work. I’m sure knocking over all your hairsprays and colognes will make B feel better.”

The muscles in Billy’s jaw clenched -

The oven timer beeped, and Chrissy jumped excitedly. “They’re ready! Yay!”

#i'm sorry for all the non-americans #pillsbury is a VERY well known and used brand here #everyone knows the blue cylinder of croissant dough #americanisms #harringrove #wrecked-fuse #neonponders #eddissy #hellcheer #pocketverse #pocket!au #like magnets

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rune-writes · 10 months

Text

Spruce Tea

Fandom: Final Fantasy VII

Word Count: 2008

Rating: G

Pairing: Cloud Strife/Tifa Lockhart

Summary: Autumn of 0002. An infantryman suffered an attack outside of the Nibel Reactor after protecting Tifa. Hoping to help alleviate the pain, Tifa climbs the mountain once more in search of spruce leaves, which her mother once said is good for one's health.

Note: written for @clotiweek 2023 Day 1: Spruce - Healing.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Mother said spruce tea was good to for one’s health—

Tifa thought as she slowly made her way through the dead leaves littering the forest floor. Pick the ones on the lower branches, wash them, brew them. They used to keep a jar of it all year when her mother was still around. Tifa used to believe that was all her mother needed to get better, so she’d learned everything she could about the tree—where best to forage it, how to best extract its properties—but of course that had all been wishful thinking. No herb could save her mother, if modern medicines couldn’t. Still, the knowledge hadn’t all been for naught.

Tifa adjusted the shoulder strap of her satchel. Nibel mountain in the fall always looked especially beautiful. An orange glow permeated the red-and-brown foliage, seeming to turn everything it touched into gold. The breeze was cool, rattling the boughs and their leaves and pushing the wide rim of her cowboy hat back. She pushed it back down, securing the cord more firmly beneath her chin.

It had been a while since her last trek through these trees. Her lessons with Zangan would sometimes bring her deep into the forest, but she’d never gone this far alone. Probably that time when she’d climbed the mountain after her mother’s death only to fall down a cliffside. Cloud had taken the blame for it—the adults all saying he was a bad influence, none of them listening to a word she’d said. That had probably been the start of the rift between them. Not that she was particularly close with him before, but they were neighbors and their mothers were friends. She’d thought they could be friends too. But no matter what she did afterwards, the distance always remained. He was so far away. A glance here, a smile there; her father watching them like a hawk.

The line of birches and oaks slowly gave way to browning conifers: firs, pines, cedars. The leaves were still mostly green, though Tifa could spot several browns and yellows. She took a path she vaguely remembered from memory, ducking under an especially low bough of fir. The spruce trees should be just around the corner, she thought.

Somewhere ahead, birds chirped. A gust of wind brought the fresh scent of pine to her nose. Tifa closed her eyes and breathed it in.

“Tifa?”

Tifa stopped in her tracks, lips parting in a half-smile. “Cloud,” she greeted, turning around and expecting to see a fresh-faced blond-haired boy—

No one was there. She blinked, then blinked again. Light shimmered in the empty space, a circle of luminance on the forest floor. Her smile turned to a frown. Of course he was not here. She wasn’t seven. There was no Cloud to come and fetch her.

***

The call had stopped Tifa in her tracks. She turned, then found Cloud in the space next to a birch tree, hand on the trunk as he bent down, catching his breath. Sweat glistened on his forehead.

“Where are you going?” he asked through his still-apparent exertion. He held a stitch on his side. Tifa looked past his shoulder. She’d gotten well away from the village—she could hear no more of the afternoon din from the village square. Had he followed her all the way here?

She turned back around and pointed in the general direction ahead. “Somewhere,” she said. She hadn’t actually been there before. Her mother had only told her of the spruce trees in the mountain. Tifa had seen the leaves kept in a jar at her house, watched whenever her mother took it out and ground them before brewing them in hot water. Her mother only drank it when the coughing fits were worse. She noticed because whenever her father came home and saw her mother in the kitchen with a cup in hand, his lips would always pull taut. I’ll make you tea, he’d say, ushering her mother to their bedroom. Now rest. Her mother always went without much protest.

But then the fits began again that morning. The spruce jar in the cabinet was empty. Her father had been away so she couldn’t ask for his help. She’d meant to tell her mother, but when she’d peeked through the gap in her mother’s bedroom door, she’d glimpsed her propped against the bed frame with her favorite cream shawl wrapped around her thin shoulders. Asleep, or trying to; weary lines made creases across her pale skin. Was it just her or did her mother’s cheeks look even more gaunt than they usually were?

An unwanted thought buried itself in Tifa's mind: that her mother’s health had worsened. So, Tifa had taken it upon herself to look for those spruce leaves up in the mountain. Not that she knew where they grew… She could probably tell from the shape of it, though. She knew them by heart. It shouldn’t be too hard.

When Tifa explained her reasons to Cloud, she was met with a frown.

“Do you know where those trees are?” he asked.

Tifa’s lips pursed in self-defense. “I know they’re up in the mountain.”

“The mountain is huge. By the time you found it, night would have fallen.”

Tifa set her jaws. Her mother was sick. She wasn’t going to let her die.

Tears pricked her eyes. She whirled on her feet, a new sense of purpose in her stride. But Cloud caught up with her, easily keeping pace.

“I’ll take you there,” he mumbled.

She cut him a glance. The frown was still there in the stubborn set of his jaws, but his rich blue eyes stared fixedly ahead. She found herself giggling and her steps slowing down. Pain she hadn’t noticed before shot up her legs, and she realized her shins beneath the hem of her white knee-length dress harbored cuts and grazes, the wounds welling red but not deep enough to bleed.

“Here.” Cloud extended his hand, face angled to the side. With a smile, Tifa grasped his hand and let him lead her to where the spruce trees stood.

***

The trees were where Tifa remembered them. Pride swelled in her chest as her memory indeed proved right. She circled the copse, seeking the right kind of leaves. Not too brittle, not too fresh. A little hard, seeing as most of the evergreen were already transforming to brown or red. But she found it nonetheless, amidst the yellows. Carefully stepping over treacherous ground, Tifa ducked beneath a branch and reached up to touch the hard, needle-like leaves. A small smile formed across her lips. She fished the flip knife from her bag and cut a hefty amount that should last ‘til winter.

The sun had already moved halfway toward the distant horizon by the time Tifa returned to her house. The lamps hadn’t been lit; her father was still out. She crossed to the kitchen, slid her satchel over her head and placed it on the counter. Grabbing a colander from the cabinet, she dumped all the spruce she had gathered, then placed them in the sink and turned the tap water on. She picked away the dirt as she washed the leaves clean, trimming the dead parts out. Then she let them dry on a tray under the patch of sunlight by the window.

When evening fell, Tifa had already packed the leaves away in their glass jar right before her father got home. She already had their dinner ready, laid out on their small table. He noticed the tea.

“What’s this?” he said.

Tifa shrugged, feeling rather self-conscious. “I went out a bit.”

Her father sat down, grabbed the cup, and breathed in the scent. The rough lines of his face twisted in a wash of nostalgia. His lips wavered as he smiled, bringing the ceramic rim to his mouth and taking a sip. He paused, savoring the taste, or perhaps lost in memory.

“It’s good,” he croaked, blinking rapidly. He reached up to wipe the corner of his eye. Tifa hadn’t noticed the tension coiling in her shoulders until she released it in a long, shudder of breath. Her father cleared his throat. “What’s the occasion?”

Tifa’s gaze fell to her dinner: mutton, grilled and coated in gravy, with a side dish of mashed potatoes and peas. “You…heard of the attack at the reactor…right?” Tifa began. “One of the Shinra men got hurt while protecting me. I wanted to make sure he’s alright.” She felt her father’s scrutiny, her own backlash rising at the back of her throat. Her father had been mostly lenient with her autonomy. He’d let her train with Zangan, explore the forest and mountain alone, and become their village’s official guide, but apparently, it was too much to leave her alone in men’s company, even though Tifa could probably break most men’s arms now with a flick of her wrists. She had suspected—still suspected—it was because of her fall, but that had been seven years ago, and the source of his ire—misplaced, though it was—was nowhere in town.

The thought sent a pang to her heart. Two years and not even a letter to say how he was faring. Claudia never showed it on her face, but Tifa knew the absence of news from her son gnawed at her heart.

“I was their guide,” Tifa said again. “I should’ve made sure the path was clear.” It was as much her fault, as the fall had been.

Her father eventually conceded and Tifa beamed. When it was time for her to visit the inn, she grabbed the glass jar she’d set aside for the infantryman and kissed her father’s cheeks. Zack greeted her at the inn’s foyer.

“Ah, you just missed him,” the SOLDIER said after Tifa told him the reason for her visit. “But I’ll pass your message along. Your well wishes too.” He meant to take the jar from Tifa, who had a mind to keep it and give it tomorrow instead. But it would probably be better for the infantryman to have the tea tonight, before duty took him elsewhere. She let Zack take the jar from her.

“Is he alright, though?” she asked. “I thought he’d be in bed for the rest of the day.”

“He’s made some good recovery, yes,” Zack said, then paused, noticing her pout. His face softened. “Don’t worry. He’s tough. He wouldn’t have jumped in front of you like he did otherwise. But I’ll make sure he gets the rest he needs. There was a prior engagement he couldn’t afford to cancel.”

Tifa nodded, his reassurance failing to quiet her concern.

“Speaking of, Tifa,” Zack said again, “about that boy you mentioned.”

“What?”

“The blonde-haired boy.”

Tifa blinked. In her quest to gather spruce leaves, she’d completely forgotten her email to Zack, inquiring after Cloud. Heat quickly rose to her cheeks. “Forget about it!” she said, a tad too forceful. She fumbled, hands waving in front of her. “I’ll, uh, just leave the recipe with you, then.” She crossed to the receptionist table, asked for pen and paper, and wrote down her mother’s recipe for the spruce tea. Zack had a smirk on his face when she handed it to him. It made her bristle, rather self-consciously. She ducked her head, murmured a “bye, then” before withdrawing from the inn, Zack’s quiet chuckle following her retreat.

Outside, fresh, pine-scented wind rolled down from the mountain. Tifa breathed it in, letting it cool her nerves. Across the square, beyond the water tower where Cloud once made his promise, Claudia’s window-lit cottage sat hunched like a small giant next to her own two-story house, with smoke puffing out of the chimney and a pretty arrangement of potted flowers decorating the front. Maybe she’d give the woman a visit tomorrow. Who knows? Claudia might impart some more homemade recipes to her, not least of all her infamous stew. With a silent prayer to the stars for Cloud’s good health and well-being, Tifa slowly made her way back to her house.

~ END ~

#cloti #cloud strife #tifa lockhart #cloti fall festival 2023 #cloti week 2023 #ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #crisis core #ff7 crisis core #ff7r #ff7 remake #final fantasy #fanfiction #ff fanfic #ff7 fanfic

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ah0yh0y · 9 months

Text

character picrew game!!

was tagged by @quotidian-oblivion like 6 months ago thx for the TAG

Rules: Make a couple characters (or just one! as many as you want/have time for) from your WIP. Use whatever Picrew suits the vibe best—just make sure to link it. Tag a couple people to do the same.

I used the same template Quo did. This one

im doing this for my murder most unladylike wip which is untitled at the moment , ACTUALLY DONE!!! (also like 4 months ago i forgot i did this) it is called spreading our ashes in the sun and you can check it out of ao3 by clicking on the title just here!

It features my favourite people - the cambridge crew! (specifically Harold and Bertie) [includes exam mental breakdown and tea]

now this fic takes place right after an exam and like in the 1930s (technically, I did my best) so theres not much room for fun costumes and such so ill be making two versions . 1 - as in how they appear in fic and 2- another version which is just how the characters mentally would dress (excluding stephen and alfred which only have the latter) (i have included analysis to go along with the picrews as well)

this is going to be long bc i like extracting meaning from the smallest things and like referencing my fic obvi so its under the cut!! also spoilers for the fic as well

Harold

fic picrew

Harold has not thought of changing his clothing since coming out of that exam, he is only clenching his teeth so hard it might explode which is why he is wearing a plain jumper over a shirt. the circular glasses are the most south asian thing ever (for me at least) , so thats a reference to that. he is very much trying very hard not to express his emotions, because he knows in the grand scheme of things it is only a "small issue" it doesnt really matter , the past is in the past and he should be done with it. but really he cannot stop thinking about it (shown through how there are stars in the background like explosions you can say but are faint). the white i think was also a reference to the "hot white breathe" of panic. green in regards to this references bile. he is somewhat disgusted with himself i think, and also haven't not eaten his stomach is not feeling great. the scars i think were references to his "night climbing" pasttime , but also in my notes i mention a doorway - who knows what that was about but.

feeling picrew

HE IS EXHAUSTED that is the crux. he is mentally lying on his bed , drifting and then crying into his pillow and curling into his blanket. i always imagine harold with frog-esque things becuase he is very cottage core to me (and also like part of the me thinks he really loves the creatures living in the bottom of the garden), (also gardening is a theme within the family ala my bad gardener george headcanon ,as those on the discord know) . but on another level it is also Harold trying to cling onto comfort, which he cannot get in the actual fic , because he is denying himself it. the scars on his face match up with the actual fic version , his hair is messier from mushing his face into a pillow and he is wearing a cardigan because i think of him as a knitter or that sort of craft aligned and when he is stressed he creates clothing (but thats technically not in this). there was additional purpose behind the sepia filter as well, that i cannot remember at the moment. but right now it reminds me of how harold feels somewhat like a faded photograph destined to a dusty cupboard past his prime (as i say in the additional tags it is much like the outro of olivia rodrigo's teenage dream - "they all say that it gets better/ it gets better the more you grow/ they all say it gets better/ it gets better but what if i dont?")

Bertie

fic picrew

Bertie here is trying to give a comforting smile at Harold, however his smile is wobbly, becuase he has also have other things on his mind (reeling from a letter from stephen, terrifed of hurting harold and on another level making him more upset (its bc of stephen) but also just being "urgently concerned" , bertie is full of multitudes). this is also referenced by the background in which according to my old notes before finishing this fic is a reference to now Bertie is also exploding with emotion , except with worry instead of panic.

with new eyes however , i think it also reflects how Bertie is also hiding his emotions as well (colour choice to me blends into the background more) because he is so focused on the task at hand, it is natural to him that his other emotions are set to the side in the background so to speak.

onto more miscellaneous details

-he has a scrape across the mouth from a childhood accident and has a cut across his cheek from his shared night climbing pastime. ---he also has sticky outy ears because i say so -he has the twinkle in his eyes because it is goddam Bertie Wells and he is full of charm and charisma, it is the same twinkle somewhat of the one that Felix, his uncle is reported to have. (he has been trying for years to have it , he has not noticed he kind of already does. nobody has told him)

another note: the green is bertie colour (because his "green trousers" and the blue harold but they have each others because they care for oneanother alot and are focusing on the others concern . harold feels like a very blue person to me (also besties)

feeling picrew

literally not much here other than a more visual manifestation of what he is actually feeling. background is darker bc he has also the holdover from being whipped up wiht emotion since reading the letter form stephen. brighter stars is a "fizzing like a rocket" reference

the moustache change is an oversight, but now i like to think that its a manifestation of how much he feels like hes aged since the events of arsenic for tea and his relationship with stephen (this is like literally pulling stuff out of nothing but like still). the heart breaking , kinda goes two ways: breaking for harold as shown in the fic and also somewhat breaking from stephens letter (also referenced through the picrew through the shooting stars on his shirt like their relationship which was actively not really healthy, and very quickly crashing and burnt through)

although that isnt explicitly shown throughout the fic i did want Bertie's inner turmoil to be an undercurrent throughout.

the pjama shirt according to my old notes has soemthing to do with how raw Bertie is feeling throughout the fic besides him just being worn

Stephen

Stephen is interesting, as although he's very much explicitly not in the fic he is very much guides Bertie's actions throughout. i honestly dont know why i decided to create him as a picrew as he isnt in the fic but i guess i wanted 4 picrews.

background is a grid bc mans in JAIL LIKE HE DESERVES.

hair is two coloured because i always thought stephen with black hair but the in the books hes got brown? so now hes got two coloured hair bc i wanted to pay homage to that.

stephen was always the type of person to be somewhat perpetually upset with Bertie or actually something or rather , and in Bertie's mind that is the image that is left of him, which is why he looks like hes sulking.

he's sweating because he actually does feel quite guilty and Bertie cannot find in himself a way to fully hold a grudge against him at least thats what it says in my old notes

now, i actually have no idea why he would be sweating maybe prison is hot

clothing - couldnt find prision clothes and wanted some sort of variation so orange on orange is what you get

Alfred

i have no notes post this point so we are in the vast deadlands now.

jacket literally just feels like a jacket alfred would wear in a modern au, same with the shirt also the eyebrow he would have a slit eyebrow

the heart i think is something to do with the fact that alfred actually really cares for harold (whether harold knows it or not)

only thing i truely remember is for the spotlight background its yellow because he's the one who goes "why the hell are you in the dark" and makes them turn on the light

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

and thats done i guess hoped you enjoyed this

#this has been in my drafts for an AGE #ahoys thoughts #fic done and dusted #my writing #mmu fic #murder most unladylike #mmu #harold mukherjee #bertie wells #stephen bampton #alfred cheng #mistletoe and murder #mam #the Cambridge Crew #mmu discord server #ahoy screamz

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cloudbattrolls · 5 months

Text

Tell Us How to Live

Gliese Benral | Forest Near the Kelter Mansion | Present Night

Something was changing.

She’d felt it, reaching into her constructs lately. She had a deeper connection now, could feel through their senses more acutely. It wasn’t necromancy, wasn’t flesh and bone and spirit. Not directly.

Wasn’t plantcraft either. She was getting better at that, coaxing buds and thorns from scraps with ease now, but this was totally unrelated. This didn’t occur when she shaped flowers or vines; same level of control as ever. She couldn’t commune with her plants, fucking shame that it was.

No, this was…weird. Not bad, but weird, the way she was linked to them now. She could feel their thoughts - more than their thoughts. Their perceptions, simple and blunted as they were, being non-sapient constructs, with dead bodies and half-dead minds.

The drag of a bony foot through soil. The swirl of a breeze through dead hair.

She hadn’t tried on Zeller yet. She knew asking probably wouldn’t go down well.

Gliese wanted to ask Quilis. In person.

Sure, she could’ve gone to Astirn. But her friend wasn’t in the middle of a damn desert, and if this was some emerging change to her magic, she wanted advice before she presented it to her mentor.

So she went over, and oh who was fucking waiting in the woods but creature feature itself.

“It’s not safe right now.” Said Eileit as she approached, wearing its stupid goth maid outfit as the blueblood resisted the urge to throw something at it.

“Bullshit.” She said. “You just don’t want me there.”

It shook its head. “Quilis isn’t accepting visitors, and they’re away at the shop right now. I can ask them to text you when they get back if you want an explanation.”

“Then why are you here?” She demanded. “How come you get to stick around?”

It blinked. “To help.”

She snarled. “Like hell you are. What’s your real reason? What are you planning?”

“Whatever I say, you won’t believe.” It said calmly. “Goodbye.”

It turned to walk away. Gliese, frustrated, reached out with her magic just to stop it in place -

A vast well of feeling. Silver and black and green, a web of wires, a sea of blades, a storm of light -

Quilis’s face and voice. Her favorite teas. The decorations on the taxidermy. A plush bear. A bag of candies. Conversations. Laughter.

Deep respect. Admiration. A desire to learn more. An appreciation of beauty. A strange fondness.

An acceptance of its place, that none of this should be spoken of.

Love, the blueblood realized, as she struggled to extract herself from the swirl of feelings.

So much love.

She came back to reality, nearly stumbling onto the grass.

The blueblood breathed hard, her lean face covered in sweat. Her glowing orange eyes crackled slightly, and blue sparks flew around the base of her horns as well.

Eileit had turned around and its eyes - weren’t maroon anymore.

The sclera had gone black. The pupils were bright jade slits.

“What -“ It said pleasantly, but with an unmistakable edge to its tone. “- did you just do?”

“Uh.” She said, still reeling a bit from the wash of emotions. “I don’t know.” She admitted.

“Hm.” It said, arms crossed behind its back as it examined her. “My mind - no, my feelings. If it was my mind, you’d be in worse shape, most likely…”

“Yeah, I didn’t really get like, words?” She said, wiping her face with a small towel from her sylladex. “Just emotions. Shit, I didn’t know I could do that. You’re not undead. How did I do that?”

She paused, then looked disgusted as it sank in.

“Oh god. You have a flushcrush on Quilis. I so regret asking.”

Its face was unreadable.

“Will you tell her?”

Gliese snorted.

“Fuck no. I don’t want to give her daymares.”

It nodded. A bird called somewhere in the trees.

“Then we agree. No need to speak of it.”

“Thank god.” She said fervently. “I’d have to teach you a hard lesson otherwise.”

It stared at her with those awful green slits, those piercing eyes, and Gliese shivered.

Its clasped its hands politely. Its head tilted slightly, one ear raised, the other lowered.

“What would you do-” It said, so soft, so cold. “-if I felt differently?”

Gliese bit her lip, ears flicking as she looked away - up, down, settling on the side.

“I’d-” She said, then stopped. “I’d- fuck.” She spat.

“I’d do nothing! Happy? I’d fucking do nothing, and you know it. Gloat about it, why don’t you.”

It shook its head. “It’s not about me, Gliese. This is very much about you.”

“Oh, don’t fucking try to schoolfeed me.” She snarled. “Of course this is about you! You and your - fucked up feelings.”

It blinked.

“Am I to be condemned when I’ve never spoken a word? When I would never act on them?”

Gliese wanted to say she couldn’t trust it. But she’d seen - she’d felt - the truth. Eileit knew better. It understood Quilis would never return its feelings, and it didn’t mind.

“You’re so fucking - righteous.” She muttered. “It feels fake. No one’s really that pure about it. Everyone wants their crush to notice them, at least a little.”

“Not righteous.” It said, shaking its head. “Aware there’s no point. I've cut out feelings like that to ensure my silence and courtesy.”

The hare troll bit her lip. It was so…so goddamn casual about fucking with its own head. No wonder it hadn’t freaked out when she’d accidentally found her own way in.

Accidentally, and yet it had felt entirely natural. Like she was meant to do stuff like that.

“Yeah, well.” She said roughly, pushing onward. “Good. Keep it that way.”

“I don’t want to be told to leave.” It said with amusement.

Gliese paused.

“Doubt they’d tell you to.” She admitted, grudgingly.

“Maybe not.” Eileit acknowledged. “But they would be within their rights if they did.” It said calmly.

“I’m content with what I do and the kindness Quilis has shown me.” It continued, tapping its chin. “But…it isn’t technically any of your business. You aren’t her quadrant. And she’s more than capable of handling herself.”

“I’m her friend.” The blueblood spat. “I know Quilis can handle herself fine! I’m not worried about that.”

“Worried about what, then.” It said, blinking.

She gritted her teeth.

“It’s just - it’s fucking weird! No one knows exactly what you are or what you’ll do. None of us know shit. We can’t trust you.”

It nodded.

“Good points. But be honest.”

She wanted to strangle the fucking thing, but she knew it wouldn’t help. “You’re a freak.” She finally admitted. “You’re a freak and a threat and nowhere near being a troll. Even Tuuya used to be one. You never were, were you?”

“No.” It agreed with a creepy smile.

“See that? That right there?” She said, pointing at its face. “That is why I don’t fucking like it. You are a disturbing little bitch and you don’t even try to pretend otherwise or apologize or anything.”

“I didn’t ask to exist this way.” It said calmly. “I am as I was made.”

“You could put more effort into being normal.” Gliese muttered.

It looked at her, a trace of weariness on its red-freckled face.

“Being like a troll…would require amputating the majority of myself. There would only be a fragment left. It would be stiff and stilted, or shallow and lacking. There is no version of me sanitized enough for your liking.”

“Maybe Quilis would be into you if you tried.” she murmured, aware it wasn't a great joke, but goddamn this situation needed some levity.

Eileit looked at her with such withering disdain that she blushed blue in mild shame.

It spoke a single word.

“No.”

Gliese wanted to be angry. She wanted to shout that who did it think it was, talking back to her? It was a machine. A machine couldn’t comprehend or feel love…

…and yet this one did.

It turned away, apparently done with the conversation.

“So, what, you’d rather just not change, even if people liked you more?”

“Would you?” It said neutrally, beginning to walk away from her.

She gritted her teeth. “Okay, not usually, but…some people are worth changing for. Worth trying to be better.”

“Quilis has made no complaint about my behavior or service.” It said. “If they did, I would listen.”

It got further away, deeper into the forest.

Gliese ran to catch up to it, stopping a few feet behind the false maroon.

“Yeah, well…I’m not saying you should say anything, obviously, but you wouldn’t try to act more troll, even for her?”

It stopped and looked at the blueblood.

“‘And if the body were not the soul, what is the soul? I have perceived that to be with those I like is enough.’”

It walked faster, disappearing behind the trees before she could say anything else.

The mage’s orange eyes followed it, uncertain, her ears slightly lowered.

Well, this sure wasn’t how she’d expected discovering her native domain to go.

#cloud writes #gliese benral #guardian artifice #don't you think it's funny how they tell us how to live. don't you think it's funny how we're all delinquent kids.#Arty is quoting walt whitman btw.

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