#the sheer happiness experience when you saw someone said they not only appreciate and love your work

[ladsofsorrow24]

reading Look Back be like

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 12 - Euphrosyne

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 11 -- Part 13

Pairing: Geralt x ofc (Solveig)

Summary: One night just isn't enough for a reunion after 6 months...

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, oral (m and f receiving), face sitting, manhandling, cockwarming, (very?) light D/s... Call me if you find any others!

Word count: 3k

A/N: I'm never promising @keanureevesisbae anything ever again, but have fun with the second part of the Geralt triathlon ❤️❤️❤️ Yes, there is one more chapter like this coming, I will award 100 bonus points (that don't do anything) if someone can tell me what its title is going to be 😏

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @peaches1958

“I can’t believe you will be here for almost six months,” Geralt sighed after breakfast was finished. 

“Does it scare you?” Geralt chuckled softly when you asked him the question. 

“You noticed,” he said. Suddenly, he seemed very interested in his hands. 

“I did,” you answered truthfully. There was no doubt in your mind that he was truly happy to have you here, but you had noticed he had looked tense when you had revealed that you would be staying until at least the end of the year. It didn’t make you nervous; he surely had a good reason. 

“It will be an adjustment,” he spoke plainly. That was certainly true; neither of you had a lot of experience with relationships. The only one you had plenty of knowledge on was your own, and that had hardly been conventional. You sighed. 

“Do you remember the night we met?” he asked as though he read your mind. Of course you did. 

“God, I hated your guts by the end of that night!” 

“I still don’t understand why.”

“Because you were insufferable. Arrogant, abrasive, annoying,” you exclaimed. After a short while you decided to add something very important: “Handsome.”

“Exactly how was that of any influence?” Geralt laughed. 

“It made me extra mad because I hated you, yet I spent half of my nights wondering what it would be like to fuck you.” You flashed him a grin as you slowly got up and walked over to him. 

“We’re having a conversation,” he teased. You laughed; it had become something of a catchphrase for situations like these, and you always knew he didn’t mean it. In this case, exhibit A consisted of the fact that his sweatpants were on the floor before you were even on your knees. He wasn’t hard, but that was nothing a few kisses on the inside of his thighs couldn’t take care of. For the sheer hell of it, you snuck a quick peek at the alarm clock. 

11.41 AM. The soft brush of your fingers along the length of his cock had him moaning softly, the sensation of a single fingernail scraping the delicate skin earned you a hiss and the uncontrolled twitching of his strong muscles. You chuckled at the sound of the grunt that spilled from his throat as you wasted no time wrapping your fingers around him, and running your tongue all the way to the tip of his cock. When you looked up at him, you saw Geralt smile appreciatively as he realized that you had no intentions of dragging this out. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as you suddenly took him into your mouth, “I’ve missed you.” The hum that answered his remark made him moan even louder. Watching him like this made you realize how much you had missed doing this. There was something else you had missed more, but were more than sure you would get around to that, eventually. Muscle memory was a beautiful thing, you concluded as you began to move your hand and mouth without even thinking about it, and it immediately resulted in a cursing, moaning and trembling Geralt who seemed to be having the time of his life. 

“Love, I-” You appreciated the warning, even though it was barely a warning, and you didn’t really need it. A few more strategic flicks of your tongue dragged him over the edge. You glanced at the clock again: 11.44. When the stupid grin of utter bliss faded off his face, his expression morphed into concern, and he dragged you up by your arms and pulled you onto his lap, knees on either side of his hips. 

“Why did you do that?” Of course you immediately understood what he was referring to. In the beginning of your relationship, you had quickly found out that Geralt loved finishing in your mouth, while you were adamantly repulsed by the taste of… well... The compromise, you often joked, was that Geralt was just going to have to tough it out. He didn’t laugh at that joke very often. 

“Sol, why?” The sound of his voice shifted your thoughts back to the present. 

“I felt like it,” you said slowly. The questioning look on his face asked you silently whether or not you thought you would be feeling like it more often in the future. While it hadn’t been as bad as you remembered, it was still a long way from being enjoyable. You decided to not get his hopes up and shook your head. With a groan, Geralt fell back onto the mattress. 

“Where were we?” You asked slyly as you leaned forward until you were laying on his chest.  

“You were talking about how annoyingly handsome I am.” Technically, that wasn’t a lie, but someone had to wipe that smug grin off his stupid face. 

“Hm, yeah, what happened in the past three years, huh?” You squirmed when he responded by tickling your sides, which in turn made him groan as your hips rubbed his cock. He was hard, again. A devious smile spread across your face; this conversation was about to get a lot more fun. You sat up on your knees and used one hand to guide his tip to your entrance, suddenly very happy you hadn’t bothered to put on anything but a t-shirt. The blowjob from earlier had left you dripping - you loved watching Geralt lose his mind as you sucked him off - and you had no trouble sinking down onto his cock. With your hands placed firmly on his chest, you began to ride him. “But it was annoying. I couldn’t stand you, but all I wanted was to kiss your stupid, pretty face. And that flock of girls that always followed you around! So pathetic. It was infuriating.”

“I know a thing or two about infuriating, Sol,” Geralt groaned as you raised yourself up, hovering over him while barely keeping the tip of his cock inside you. Your eyes spoke volumes: Touch me, and it’s over. 

“Do you remember the rest?” You chuckled as he rolled his eyes when he realized you were really going to make him recount the story of how you got together while teasing him like this. 

“How I got along really well with your roommate? Of course I remember.” Your own eyes went wide when you caught on to his plan; he could do some teasing of his own. Ingrid had been the one to invite him to the dinner the both of you were hosting for Samhain that year, despite very loud protesting on your part. By the time you had finally found out he wasn’t such a jackass, after all, she had already hauled him off to her room. 

“The amount of noise that night was quite intriguing.” Over time, that had turned into a fond memory - if it hadn’t been for that night, you might never have made a pass at him at all, but you were simply too curious about his skills in the bedroom. And you wanted to know if Ingrid had been lying... Barely two months later the two of you had made things official. Just two months later he had to leave again, and you didn’t see him again until somewhere in May. Apparently, the memory of your first reunion was too much for him; his hands found your hips and he held you firmly in place as he lifted his hips, driving himself all the way into you. You shrieked in surprise at the sudden intrusion - okay, you screamed. There was absolutely no way that there was anyone in the entire house who hadn’t heard you. Luckily, Geralt had informed you that only three of his roommates were even here at the moment. Geralt suddenly chuckled. It was that specific sound that made you fairly certain he had overheard something amusing somewhere in the house.  

“What did you hear?” you asked curiously as you lay down on his chest, drawing slow patterns through the coarse hair on it. 

“I’m afraid we may have ruined Sherlock’s night,” he answered. A hint of guilt was visible on his face, but he mostly looked amused. The curious part of you wanted to ask him for more details, but you knew Geralt didn’t listen for gossip - and even if he did, Geralt didn’t gossip. 

You suddenly remembered your unspoken promise that if Geralt were to touch you, you wouldn’t finish what you had started, and with that in mind, you moved up and sat on his stomach.

“Really?” Gods, you’d feel bad for him if he didn’t look so cute when he was annoyed. You shrugged, which aggravated him even more, until he suddenly seemed to get an idea. His hands wriggled their way underneath your thighs and he looked at you ardently. You knew that look - and you knew that for the foreseeable future, at least as far as you were concerned, you were the luckiest woman alive. Geralt was always eager to go down on you, which was amazing, but something about this particular position drove him all but feral. Not that it didn’t do anything for you, on the contrary; you enjoyed it at least as much as he did. Your head fell back as he pulled you forward and pressed his flattened tongue between your folds, savoring the taste of your arousal first, before turning his attention to where he knew you needed it most. It was a good thing Geralt was a sturdy man, because there was no way you could keep your hips still. The feeling of his tongue on your clit, the sensitive skin of your pussy grinding against the harsh stubble on his jaw, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass and hips, pulling you even further down onto his face; it was surreal. Fantastic. Magical. Before long, he had you cursing above him, reaching back for support to keep yourself from falling over. You could tell he was grinning; he always did when you let go like this, and you avoided his eyes so his smugness wouldn’t distract you. You were so close, you knew he would push you over that edge without any problems - and then he didn’t. Instead, he locked your hips in his arms, keeping you still over him as he kept deliberately missing the right spot, or denying you the pressure you needed. Keeping away from his gaze was no use now; his arrogance was evident in his entire body. From the way he held you down to the occasional chuckles that escaped his throat. This was his way of telling you that there was no escaping him. He’d occasionally indulge you, allow you your little ventures into dominance, but he needed you to be very aware that the only reason you were ever in charge, was because he let you. Because this was what he could do. Hold you down and deny you everything you wanted, for as long as he chose to. During one of your little fits of domination, you had challenged him - at the time convinced it was a threat - to ride him like this until he tapped out. He hadn’t, you had, but not before he’d left you so completely overstimulated that you hadn’t been able to continue at all. You liked to think he had unwittingly ruined his own night in doing so, but you knew that to not be true at all. Geralt loved to hold you every bit as much as he liked to make love to you - though sometimes his… excessively amorous nature caught up with him. Now, you found yourself in an unwelcome predicament; you wanted to cum, but you didn’t want to beg. And one wasn’t going to happen without the other, he’d make sure of that. 

“Geralt, please,” you whispered, but it wasn’t good enough. Every muscle in your lower body strained against his arms, but to no avail - he was too strong, keeping you firmly in place no matter how much you squirmed. 

“Hmm?” He obviously couldn’t speak, but he could raise his eyebrows and that was what he did. 

“You’re such a dick,” you huffed as his tongue kept torturing your pussy, never leaving the sensitive nerves, never satisfying them either. His chuckle was dark and it felt good against your core, but it wasn’t enough of a sensation to push you over the edge. Geralt hummed again; the sound contained the same question as before. 

“Dammit! Please, let me cum, you jerk.” He had you on the verge of tears, which didn’t get better when his tongue disappeared and was replaced by his lips around your clit, sucking gently - of course never hard enough to fulfill your desire. It wasn’t long before a single tear rolled down your cheek and you were sobbing. 

“Fuck, Geralt, please, please make me cum,” you begged. That was exactly what he wanted to hear. It took him seconds to pull you down into your best orgasm in months. They were always better with him, but this one… He loosened his grip on your hips and allowed you to ride out your high before grabbing you again. You looked at him, eyes wide with terror when you realized he was far from being done with you. 

“Baby, no, please.” He looked smug when he heard you, still begging for mercy, although this time it was of a different kind - but of course he didn’t show mercy. He pulled two more orgasms from you before he finally allowed you to collapse on the bed. 

“Are you alright, love?” He asked as he freed the covers from underneath your curled up body and crawled into bed with you, wrapping you safely in his arms. It was a while before you could answer him, and even then it was just a simple nod. 

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, “you were looking just a little too triumphant up there.” 

“You’re mean,” you sighed. It was really all you could manage; you were completely exhausted. You groaned when you felt yet another erection grind impatiently into your ass. 

Your lips formed a smile while the movements behind you grew more impatient and the moans that came from him turned to whines. It would always be funny to you, to hear this big man whine and look at you like a wounded puppy - you couldn’t see his eyes right now, but you knew enough of him to assume - when he didn’t get his way. 

“What do you want?” you asked softly, already knowing the answer. 

“To be closer to you,” was his overly cryptic answer. That wouldn’t do; you were going to get Geralt to use his words, whether he liked it or not. You moved closer to him, and he eagerly locked you tighter in his embrace. 

“Like this?” Your voice was sweet - excessively so - and you knew he didn’t appreciate your teasing, which naturally made it all the more fun. 

“No,” he said as he pressed lazy kisses along your shoulder and neck, “you know what I want.”

“Then ask me,” you laughed. 

“Can I just be inside you?” He groaned. Something about him seemed to express that he felt embarrassed about his request. You gladly agreed to it, however, with a smile on your face and a chuckle in your voice. Even if you weren’t as overcome by lust as he was, you still enjoyed being that close to him. The three rounds of head had left you a mess, and he was met with little resistance when he pushed into you. Both of you sighed with what almost felt like relief, and you nestled back into his arms. This was comfort and familiarity. This was bliss. 

Outside the room you heard a few sets of footsteps and other noises that indicated life in the house, but you ignored it until Mike’s voice sounded dimly through the door. 

“Should we invite Geralt?” You could barely make out the words, but Geralt - of course - heard loud and clear. 

“No, you shouldn’t,” he snapped, loud enough for them to hear. You expected Mike to leave, but he didn’t. Of course he was going to be childish about this. 

“I thought they’d be done by now,” you heard him say, louder this time, as if he was making sure you’d be able to hear him, too. 

“Poor girl won’t walk for a week,” another voice spoke. You recognized the drawl; it was Sy. It was more than thinkable that Geralt would have been okay with it if these jokes had been aimed at him, and him alone, but they weren’t. They were speaking up to poke fun at you, as well, and things like that tended to not go over well with a man so hellbent on protecting his girl. You whined as Geralt slipped out of bed and back into his sweatpants, and pulled the covers tightly around you as he paced to the door.

“Michael, Nathan, for fuck’s sake, go,” you heard him hiss  as soon as he opened the door. “And Danielle. Hi, sorry.” That was a new name. He seemed less agitated when he addressed her - probably because she hadn’t been an asshole to you. 

“He used our full names, man, run.” Sy’s booming laugh sounded through the hall. 

“After you, Dani,” Mike growled. After that, he hissed something at Geralt that you couldn’t quite make out. Geralt crawled back into bed with you, and the two of you got comfortable the same way you had before. 

“What did Mikey say before you closed the door?” You weren’t generally curious, but you had a feeling you would find this particularly funny. 

“He requested I put a shirt on next time - I think I broke his girlfriend for a bit.”

“Well, you’re quite a sight,” you said as you let your fingers glide over his chest and abs. With a sigh, Geralt cuddled up against you, and you sank into his warm and comfortable arms. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but it was very close.

-> Part 13

[husbandohunter]

Boys over flowers [Genshin Impact/Various x Reader] Part 2

Not everything had to be about fighting. Ahem Childe.

Genre: fluff, angst(?)

Characters: Zhongli, Childe, Albedo, Xiao

{Zhongli}

Out of all the bountiful possessions in the land he carved with his very own hands, the glaze lily had always been his favourite.

This flower was a nostalgia stained with time. As much as he loved them, the love he felt was more of a bittersweet sadness if anything. The loss of a friend, his mentor, someone he cherished so deeply, all of it was held into a single glaze lily.

Once as Morax, now as ordinary Zhongli, in those 6000 years he had seen it all. Even his grief for Guizhong faded into a memory.

Sometimes Zhongli felt like he was reading from a story book. Detatched while staring through an omniscient standpoint. It seems that his infinite years brought both experience and lonliness along the way.

"Zhongli? What are you staring at?"

But not when he was with you.

The glaze lily went on many journeys when he met you

He remembers the first encounter on a sunset night just as the petals  were about to bloom. You were there, crouched down, staring into his golden eyes.

“This is for you! Not many can be fully matured like this so make sure to take good care of it,” You held it out to him and he takes the stem out of your hold.

“A parting gift, I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” Zhongli sees it as a sign of a new contract, “It seems you possess a good eye when you were selecting them.”

He remembers the bouquet you presented during his birthday, the garland you placed on his head when he was reading, the vase by his desk always filled to the brim whenever you’d pay a visit to his parlour.

He remembers how the blue petals scattered across the floor the day you two married, everywhere he went so did this flower. Everytime he saw this flower, he thought of you.

Was it okay to feel like this? No one can ever replace Guizhong, was it okay to love again even when this being was much more perishable than she was? Zhongli was use to the experience of tragedy and loss as it was part of life.

Ah, so this must be what it feels like to live like a mortal.

To cherish every passing moment knowing that it won’t last forever. He will embrace it to the end. 

Old memories that were once dust rose from the soil, now reborn into a new beginning. Your curious gaze leans closer to his profile, sitting side-by-side under the blankets of your shared bed, the corners of his lips lift into a small smile.

“I’m only reminiscing, my dear. You don’t need to worry for me.” He kisses your forehead and tucked you to bed. The candle now blown out as his arms wrapped around your waist while spooning from behind.

Zhongli closed his eyes, knowing if he dreamt of a garden full of glaze lilies, there will be no sadness behind it.

{Childe}

Mother fucker would try to turn this into a sparring session.

This is why you NEVER invite Childe. If the valley were the air nomads, Childe was the fire nation. He’d stomp his muddy shoes in front of you just to get your attention simply because he knows it will piss you off.

An angry s/o means a potential fight. Win win situation.

Thus, no one blamed you for giving him a cold shoulder after that.

“Aha, looks like I went a little too far, didn’t I? Alright alright, I’ll stop trampling on your flowers from now on, you have my word. So talk to me, okay? Please?”

Alas you spare him a glance, “Make that a pinky promise.”

He didn’t know you were so serious about gardening. The Feiyun commerce guild took greate pride in cultivating the finest silk flowers in all of Teyvat and you being from that guild held up that legacy. Even if Childe tries to buy back the ones he stepped on, nothing could match the quality of your work.

Needless to say, your little hobby became a normal thing, Childe was very chaotic in nature so something more calm was nice to mediate that attitude. You taught him how to water plants, place the fertilizer and knowing which ones to pick.

But let’s be real, florist Childe isn’t that far-fetched because he is 10/10 waifu material.

Then Teucer comes in and tags along. He wanted to take some silk flowers back to Tonia until Childe informed him they’ll wilt on their way to Snezhnaya. 

“Aww, that’s too bad,” he would say while pouting, “Then I’ll give them to you big sister (Y/n)!”

“How sweet, you’ll be quite the charmer when you’re all grown up, Teucer. Maybe even better than your big brother.”

“Come on now, babe. You know that’s impossible.”

You twirled the silk flower right under your nose, the playful tone never leaving your voice, “Oh really? You and Teucer both share the same genes so yes, it is a possibility.”

An amusing glint dances in the ocean of his gaze as he gleefully remarks, “Well if you put it that way, I think Teucer would be at a very big disadvantage.”

“What do you-”

Before you could finish, Childe covers Teucer’s eyes and leans over to steal a sinful kiss, sliding his tongue inside. He purposely brushed his lips over yours after parting, completely satisfied by your flustered expression.

I love this bastard

{Xiao}

Hip hip hooray for having both Qiqi and Xiao in your party. Must be fun collecting their ascension materials.

“Adeptus Xiao!”

Your dumbass fell off the high cliff while obtaining the violet grass, Xiao yeets in from nowhere and caught you from death’s clutches.

Shall I mention that this had happened TWICE already?

Xiao carries you to safety and gently settles you down to your feet. He shot you the sharpest and most deadpan look he could muster because actions speak louder that words, he was trying to make a point.

You gave him a weary smile as the violetgrass batch limps in your hands along with the qingxins.

“I can hardly fathom how utterly stupid and moronic you can actually be. What did you think would happen when you tried to pull off that stunt? That you’d suddenly grow wings and be able to fly?”

His harsh words put you back into your place like a scolded child, “I’m sorry...I just wanted to help...”

Mah man does not watch what he says and always end up guilty. Your kicked puppy look is really going to be the death of him. He means well, just harsh when it comes to your well-being.

“Fine, give me those. I’ll take care of it.” He wouldn’t allow you to retort, he just took them from your hands and left without a word.

Let’s just say that Xiao isn’t the best when it comes to handling flowers as he would handle monesters, his touch isn’t the most delicate either and would prefer to get the job done fast. 

Sometimes he’d pull the roots our along with it, dirt and mud dripping from the bottom of the stem. Or the opposite. He pulls too hard and the stem just SNAPS and you’re left with just the blossom. 

“Does it matter? They’re only ingredients as you’ve said.”

That gave you a perfect excuse to teach him the ways of gardening and just be more delicate overall. 

At first he didn’t understand why humans were so meticulous about these things but when he saw a man present a bouquet to his wife, Xiao began to reconsider his methods. He doesn’t undersand mortal traditions as much and sticks to something simple and classy.

Don’t be surprised when you find a bunch on your desk for your birthday <3

{Albedo}

The sheer cold of dragon spine could naturally kill any botanical organisms aside from mints. The only flowers Albedo usually sees are the ones he artificially makes.

But being the genius he was, Albedo knew every variety of flowers to exist in the book. In this case, HE was the expert.

To him, the flower was the symbol of life. Albedo only knew the scientific facts of plant life and their natural functions, you on the otherhand were more familiar with the flower languages in a deeper meaning.

Today was a rare day where Albedo figured he’d step out of that freezing lab and conduct his research somewhere warmer, specifically Windrise where it’s quiet and away from the city.

“Dandelions may not be flowers but thei’re the main specialty of Mondstadt carrying the meaning of ‘freedom’! That’s probably how the Acting Grandmaster got her title.”

“Freedom...” He ponders, “I guess you cold say that.”

Albedo can’t understand why people would choose to associate meaning with plants. Where do their ideas come from? And why? Frankly, he can’t see the point in any of it. 

But at the same time, it made him happy to see you so enthusiastic about his research even if it wasn’t quite near the target. Albedo had always been so engrossed in his work and you’d just silently keep him company of the side, not many times where you both fot to nerd out on the same topic.

Emotions were still a mystery to him. It seems that even upon the most boring subjects, they don’t seem boring anymore when talking to his significant other. Soon enough, Albedo found himself putting his research aside and just listening to you talk. 

“And the Rose expresses romance and love. It’s common for lovers to give it to another during Valentines day.”

He hums cheekily, “Are you telling me that just to hint me to give one to you?”

“W-Well, I didn’t say that.”

He got nothing done. Perhaps his research can wait for another day, right now, he was more curious on what other meanings can a flower hold.

[vdiarys]

You have NO idea how happy im rn :D

Ok time to be gay. Percy relationship headcanons with a s/o that is a gentle/timid type? (male or gn, ether way good)

Percy relationship H/C with a gentle/timid, G/N S/O - SFW & NSFW!

I’ll do my best for our gentle giant hunk! (I think I got carried away? Maybe? Thank you for the request ;U:

SFW ~

Ok, so I H/C Percy’s experiences and memories pretty much only dating back as far as since he was resurrected, pretty much his entire “existence” has been revolving his life at the manor!

Basically, he focuses his time on being a perfect hunter, hence the body modifications.

His work requires a lot of his attention…

But boy oh boy is he so happy to have his S/O be the way they are!

When you first met, it was a little difficult for him to approach s/o as he could tell he came across as rather intimidating, and no doubt saw how afraid they were.

Usually, he doesn’t hold back in a match, but noting s/o to be rather passive, he didn’t see a need to put all his energy into being a big scary hunter.

He remembers one time where he found them quivering in a locker.

S/O wasn’t subtle, he could hear their breathing and whimpers pretty easily.

Something about the genuine fear made him feel a little sympathetic to the fragility the survivors must feel.

It certainly made a pang in his chest he knew he’d never felt before, and yet felt so familiar. Perhaps he wasn’t as dead as he thought and there truly was some humanity left in him.

How troublesome…

Rather than slam open the locker door and throw you to the ground, as he would with anyone else, he knocked on the door before opening it.

From there, he grabbed s/o’s shoulder, firmly, but it felt more like a hug around their shoulder (just by the sheer size of his hand alone) and guided them to their knees onto the ground.

To be honest, he was expecting them to go into full sprint once he let go, but they just sat shaking, not looking up.

He decided to walk away to find someone else, only briefly glancing back to see them still sat there, only this time they looked at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place.

All was well he found, rather than getting up immediately after he left, S/O waited for others to approach them and encourage them back to their feet.

S/O was odd he’d decided and was a little amused by their insistence on fairness within a match despite the circumstances.

Maybe it was their way of thanking him for being gentle?

No, screw that you were definitely weird.

Suddenly, he’s always only finding you in lockers. Was this some kind of joke? Or did you have an ability relating to it? Either way, when he guides them out, now they at least look at him wordlessly.

Theres no contempt in your expression, but it’s a little unnerving how they just keep looking at him, looking as if they want to say something but don’t.

It isn’t till a couple more matches that s/o finally says their first words to the hunter, this time its when he offers a hand to let them out of the locker.

They took it slowly, no matter how big or small their own hands were, it was absolutely swallowed by the size of Percy’s.

“Thank you…” their voice was so smooth when they said it, but it was difficult to tell whether they spoke it or whispered it. He seemed struck at how bashful they were being.

When they were on the ground, he was about to head off before pausing and looking down.

They had the corners of their lips brought to a pretty obvious smile, yet they didn’t meet hit gaze as they seemed aware of how uncontained their happiness appeared.

Percy gave a small hum of approval, his lips barely twitching up, yet infected by the expression on s/o’s face. “Good luck.” He said in return as the match continued on.

He would probably match your energy, being rather quiet, and the two of you would share an unspoken appreciation and love for one another.

Basically, just being in each other’s company is enough, the solidarity is only confirmed when the two of you exchange physical affections with one another.

It means he’s able to share his time working without being disrupted. And even S/O seemed content just watching or doing their own thing.

He also appreciates s/o’s gentleness, and actively chooses to behave in a way to make them feel comfortable and safe in his presence, whether is be shrinking his form while they sat together, or not making any sudden movements.

While he’s pretty scary to most survivors, when he’s around s/o, he’s basically a gentle giant.

Percy and S/O value their alone time with one another, that and it means the atmosphere is more calm when they don’t have to worry about other loud hunters or survivors.

Because S/O is able to respect what he does and his work and understand the need to concentrate, he is able to get his work done efficiently without fail!

And their reward for being so patient is having more direct time with one another!

Again, their love language would probably be expressed through touch and presence rather than big displays and gestures.

Your love is contained and reserved only for the eyes of one another, because to Percy, experiencing love like this is not something he was aware was possible, and so he does everything he can to preserve it and relish in it. That and for S/O, it can be daunting/ anxious having eyes on them if they show PDA.

The fact you don’t need to show PDA to understand each others care is a blessing, you don’t need to prove anything to anyone else and its liberating for both of them.

He absolutely loves the feeling of cuddling and letting his hands rest on your shoulders or hugging himself around you as you sat on his lap.

Percy loves it when his S/O becomes a little curious and explores his body and the augmentations of it. His S/O is so gentle as if he would break under their touch, which to him is amusing considering he’s certain they wouldn’t even be able to nudge him an inch if they tried.

He feels like a little science exhibit for his S/O to experiment and play with.

He gains a lot of validation when you ask him about what a certain machine does, or what he’s been working on recently.

Percy is absolutely smitten by how just before they do try to talk to him about it, s/o always starts with a hushed “Can I ask you a question?”

As if his answer isn’t always yes, because s/o is too nervous to ask when he’s in the middle of his work, that and it takes them a while to build up to actually say what they want to say.

Percy is aware of this, and is able to be patient as a sign of respect for his S/O

S/O no doubt would be curious watching him while he works, but too shy or polite to ask what they were even watching, so questions always come afterwards, during their more intimate and focused moments together.

To Percy theres something so rewarding about how genuinely interested you are in him and what he does.

Percy knows interest can easily be faked for ulterior motives, and at first wasn’t expecting S/O to even continue pursuing understanding his work.

But as the relationship moves forward he noticed that S/O is able to engage with him more confidently, referring to things they’ve already spoken about, and that just confirms that S/O is the one for him. The fact they actually are listening and learning? It’s euphorically rewarding.

Percy might be a little self-focused. It takes him a while to return interest in his S/O’s hobbies and interests.

Not because he doesn’t care, but he definitely does get a little caught up in the attention given to him, it kind of inflates his ego a bit more.

He might enjoy talking about himself a bit too much.

It’s also because he doesn’t want to intimidate or scare his S/O into giving him an answer, especially since it might take them a while to confidently formulate what they want to say/express.

When they finally do talk more openly about their own interests, he begins to understand love and appreciation through his S/O’s eyes. Percy starts to realise why S/O is so interested in him as their face seem to light up talking about their passions.

It’s also quite difficult to get S/O to lead a conversation, mostly because they might feel like they would be intruding on anyone else involved, they don’t want to interject.

So moments where he gets to hear S/O take the lead is very refreshing and helps to truly understand them in ways other people might not get a chance to.

The whole relationship would be a slow burn in general, as Percy and S/O’s time is a bit of a balancing act for Percy between spending time with them and his work, plus the life in the manor.

Signs of affection through touch come rather quickly, however, since they have to make their moments together worthwhile!

More advanced things like kissing would come later, but it’s likely that when you do kiss it’s often slow and lasts for a while.

S/O needs time to build up confidence and isn’t brave enough to just surprise Percy out of the blue with a peck.

Later on S/O does sneak a few cheeky kisses on the cheek while Percy’s working.

It makes him work faster so they can get more time together and do other things…

The relationship perfectly encapsulates the growth two people go through in order to better themselves.

S/O helps Percy to humanise and become more in touch with his personal life pleasures rather than being indulged in his work constantly, and Percy would be a perfect partner to help S/O grow confidence and express themselves to others.

NSFW BELOW CUT ~

Again, the relationship is slow burn, so even despite the hands on contact pretty early on, It would probably take a while for things to escalate to a point where Percy and S/O get down and dirty...

It definitely happens while S/O is sat perched on his lap, most likely after a rather slow and sensual kissing session.

There have been a few of those already, so Percy was used to it, but it came as a surprise when his S/O seemed to separate a little quickly from his lips one day only to feel like they were sitting on something uncomfortably hard.

Percy probably hadn't even realised what had happened, let alone know he could even still pop a boner considering his background.

He didn't want to think too hard about what Burke had to do to him to get his dick to function.

Focusing back on S/O, he wrapped his hands around their waist to try to gently pry them off, apologising for what had just happened.

Percy assumed S/O was uncomfortable, wanting to respect the sanctity and security of their relationship didn't want to push anything onto them.

It was only when S/O placed their hands on top of his, stopping him before sitting themselves down cautiously again, Percy became a little flustered.

S/O seemed hesitant to meet his gaze, looking down with the blood rushing to their cheeks.

Percy understood the difficulty it was for them to collect themselves when they were nervous, but he needed to hear from their own lips that they wanted this.

Percy was patient, instead taking S/O's hands and holding them between one another.

"Is this something you want to do?" Percy asked, tilting his head down slowly to try to meet S/O's gaze.

S/O timidly looked up at him, hands trembling, and if there wasn't a smile plastered on their face, one would assume by their body language they were purely afraid.

"Whatever you're answer is, I'll respect it." Percy clarifies with them, not making any moves to push them on or off him until he gets an answer.

If S/O isn't ready for it, Percy nods, moving a hand up to their shoulder reassuringly before shifting them off. He sticks around for a moment, holding S/O's hand fondly just to confirm he wasn't by any means upset.

"Thank you for telling me." In all honesty, he was proud and pleased S/O verbalised their honest thoughts and wants. He felt it meant that they were comfortable setting boundaries with him.

"I'll make some tea then hop in the shower."

Thankfully, after a bit of time, he probably didn't have to do anything drastic in order to go soft again.

He's definitely gonna have an awkward chat with Burke about this though. Leaving out details about his S/O, of course.

If S/O is ready for it, like most things in their relationship, most of their pleasure comes from contact. Percy definitely can't wait to feel his hands on them.

Hands will run up and down one another's bodies in ways they didn't get to before, finally with some skin on skin contact.

Percy is very keen on experimenting though. He finds it super sexy when his S/O comes to him with a nervous and what they deem "embarrassing" request to try something new.

He does admittedly like to egg on and tease his S/O into verbalizing exactly what they want.

Because of his size, he actually relies a lot on his S/O to take control, mostly to be cautious.

He definitely will give them a helping hand though, grabbing hold and guiding them if you choose to ride him.

Percy also isn't adverse to do the riding, really liking the way his S/O reaches over body with a determined expression as they put in a lot of energy to pleasure each other.

There's definitely a bit of a size kink shared between Percy and his S/O.

Percy likes how his hands wrap around and hold onto the S/O to help stabilize them.

As S/O, it feels great to just be held in his hands constantly.

It's also really nice just to have so much of Percy to hold on to.

His shoulders, sides, pectorals, neck, legs, it's so enjoyable to explore his body and scars.

Percy enjoys it too, once again it's a bit of an ego boost to have an S/O infatuated and praising the work he puts into himself.

Unlike with S/O's interests however, where it took some time for Percy to reciprocate the same level energy of interest, during sex he's much more interested in giving than he is receiving.

How can he deny going down on his S/O when they looked so eager when asking him? He can tell it took a lot of courage for them to ask...

He's just as happy to explore S/O's own body, grasping and running his fingers over their scars and what they think are imperfections.

Percy on the other hand can't get enough of them, so he's definitely the type to try to convince S/O of their own value.

He seems like the type to get pleasure from seeing his S/O's pleasure.

Again, Percy has to really hold himself back at times, since there's times where he just gets so curious to see their reactions to the things he wants to do.

What if he kept going even after they'd came, what if he stuck his fingers in their mouth? What if he made them tug on his hair?

Percy doesn't do things abrasively unless they ask for it.

A few times he was tempted to make some kind of file to note down what s/o enjoys or doesn't enjoy.

Then he would totally read through it later on and accidentally get a hard on.

Let's hope no one else finds it.

After the initial hesitance and awkwardness that came for asking for sex, Percy and his S/O eventually found it seamlessly added quite frequently onto their routine.

Now whenever S/O has their hands wandering Percy's body just lightly during cuddles, he can't help but think of what their hands do when they're getting it on, and oh suddenly he's hard.

Aftercare is always a pleasure. Percy although secretly a sensual lover, is still methodical, and is still pretty on top of everything even after he's came.

He's pretty quick to get the both of them cleaned up, thorough about it too. It just means they can cuddle and sleep in bed afterwards and get a good nights rest for the following day.

Percy tries to be slick mentioning how he suddenly has an extra free half an hour planned in the day to spend with his S/O.

He doesn't want soft cuddle time to just be replaced with sexy times...

But he also really wants a good amount of time to experiment and play with his S/O...

[the-superior-stark]

Neighbor!Steve Rogers x Reader

Neighbor!Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: AU, Neighbor!Steve Rogers, Married (Y/N), Cheating, Smut, Breeding Kink, Marking, Oral (f receiving), Edging. Fingering, Choking

You can request HERE!

Prompt list can be found HERE and HERE!

****

As I pulled into my driveway in the pouring rain I noticed my new neighbor struggling to get his front door opened. I rolled my window down and yelled, “Hey Steve, do you need any help?” He looked up from the frustrating door lock to my car, “I think Sam has my set of keys and I have his,” he offered in explanation.

I knew of Sam seeing as how he occasionally popped by to Steve’s house and I had a few encounters with him. Steve and him had just been out together this morning, probably when the mix up happened.

“You can come in to my house for a little while and wait for Sam to bring you your house key,” I offered, with little hesitance. Steve looked unsure but willing to get out of the relentless rain. 

“If it’s no problem to you, ma’am. I would greatly appreciate it.” The soaking wet man said with a gentle smile. “No problem at all, just let me get a few things from my car.” 

Steve walked over to my car and offered to grab my few bags from the grocery store. I wanted to protest but my cheeks were growing hot and my eyes were glued to his chest and the water droplets falling off of his blonde hair in waves. 

Me and him walked up to my front door and he stood back as I unlocked the door. I could feel his presence behind me and it was slightly intimidating but nice nonetheless.

I opened the front door and said, “Excuse the mess, I haven’t exactly had time for a deep clean with work and all and my husband sure as hell doesn't clean.” He gave me a questioning glance and I felt the need to explain myself with a short, “Late work at the office and all.”

He give a curt nod and followed me as I shuffled into the kitchen. “Can I just place these on the counter.” He asked. “Yeah, sure that’s fine.” I agreed and gave him a soft smile.

I had always thought about having this man in my house but now my fantasies just made me feel awkward. I had always had some type a thought about him that I shouldn’t. I mean who wouldn't? He is literally a perfectly created science experiment. Everything about him screams perfect.

“I’ll go and fetch you some of my husband’s lounge clothes and a towel. You’ve got to be cold in those clothes.” 

I heard him thank me as I walked briskly to the bedroom I shared with my husband. I almost felt like I needed a break from the handsome man sitting in my living room. It felt as though looking at him made me feel intoxicated. Every little thing he did made my breath hitch in the back of my throat. 

I grabbed a thin white t-shirt and a pair of joggers. Both were probably too small for Steve but they were the best I could offer him at the time. My husband definitely had a smaller stature than Steve so we had no clothes around the house to accommodate a man his size.

After I grabbed his clothes out of the drawers, I crossed the hall into the bathroom and quickly grabbed a towel and made my way back into my kitchen. I found Steve standing in the same place I left him, looking mostly nervous. I assumed it was because he was in a house of a girl he barely knew.

I handed him the clothes and towel I had grabbed. “Thank you for these, (Y/N). Can you point me to your bathroom so I can change?” I nodded and pointed down the hall and said, “First door on your left. If you need an extra towel there are some under the right side of the sink. Just holler if you need anything.” He nodded and made his way to the bathroom.

The house was decently sized but still small enough that I could hear every cluttered sound coming from the bathroom. Every little noise Steve made. It almost felt comforting to have someone in the house after all this time. When I was home my husband wasn't and when he was home I was at work. Hearing somebody making noise brought me a great sense of happiness as I made busy work by putting away the few groceries.

I heard the bathroom door open and Steve come out. He walked into the kitchen with his wet clothes. I could see every muscle ripple and felt like if he took a big enough breath the shirt would rip into. There was a greek god standing in my kitchen and I looked like a deer in the headlights as I drank in his appearance.

I grabbed his previous clothes from him and dropped them into one of my plastic grocery bags and placed it on the counter. 

Any nervousness of his seemingly disappeared as he let out a sigh and said “Like what you see, doll.” I gulped and turned back around to what I was doing. “Guess that was a yes.” Steve chuckled out.

“It wasn’t a yes or a no, Steve.” I said, slight grimace in my tone as I wanted to say yes, but knew it wouldn't be right due to circumstances. “(Y/N), I know it’s a yes. You act like I can’t see the way you gawk at me when I do yard work or check the mail or leave for work. I see the way you look at me. Don’t try and hide that from me, doll.”

As he said what he had wanted to say, he had gotten increasingly closer to me. It felt like he was cornering me and the only thing I could do was stammer out incoherent words. Stumbling over everything I wanted to say.

“You look so pretty, all nervous over my words. You’re beautiful, doll.” Any regard I had over keeping my composure flew out of the window the moment I heard those words. I wanted him. A part of me had always wanted him since we moved into this neighborhood. 

I always had my eyes on him any chance I got. He was like a drug to me. I needed him, in anyway he would possibly give me.

“Okay, maybe I do find you extremely attractive but I have a husband.” I said trying to remind myself more so than him. “Baby, I see that relationship of yours. You spend no time together. If you’re home, he's not, and vice versa. Just let it happen. He has a girlfriend anyways.”

I went slack jawed at the mention of my husbands so called ‘girlfriend’. I mean I knew, it was just the fact that even Steve knew. I’m sure everyone knew the marriage was a sham if even he could see it. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I don’t think everyone knows. I just happen to be quite observant of you and your little life.” Suddenly relief washed over me but that didn’t last long. 

Steve had snaked his hand up to my face to wipe away a stray tear I didn't even know was running down my face. I guess it’s the sheer anticipation and stress this situation was giving me.

On one hand, I had once loved my husband and he loved me. Now the marriage was more viewed as a partnership. I cooked and bought groceries and he kept the bills paid with occasional help from me. We both spent our own money and rarely slept in the same house together, more or less the same bed. 

On the other hand, it had been so long since I had any attention. Physically or emotionally. My husband gave me nothing but a home to keep my things in. There was no love, passion, or connection. I longed for something like that. Something like that from one person only. That person being, Steve.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head?” Steve questioned. “I want to know everything and more about you. But first I want to explore you.”

When he got no response from me, he took matters into his own hands, stating “If you want me to stop, say the word. I leave you alone and we can never talk about it again, but something tells me you don't want that.”

My brain had finally caught up with the situation. I was very excited for what Steve had in store for me and I believed that he would take care of my every need.

Steve backed me up against the counter and traced a finger down the side of my face gently whispering about how pretty I was. “I wanna do so many things to you, doll. You gonna let me?”

I gave him a slight whimper and nod in return, begging silently in my head for him to do something. Steve took my nod into consideration and apparently he needed more. “I need some words, baby doll. Need to hear you say it. Need you to beg me. Or I walk out that door right now.”

A part of me knew he wasn’t walking out of that door anytime soon, seeing as how it was still pouring rain and Sam had yet to even respond about bringing him his keys. All rational had left my mind though. My thoughts were swimming in my head and my arousal was making me spin. 

“Please, Steve. I’ll be so good. I’ll do anything you want. Just touch me. Have your way with me.” The blonde man towering over me seemed satisfied with my answer and began an assault on my lips.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” I whispered against Steve’s lips. Almost scared that if I said it too loud it would all stop. “I know, darling. Me too. For so long. Since I saw you waltz up your driveway in that black sundress for the first time. You were so perfect. Perfect for me to ruin.” 

I whimpered into Steve’s mouth and he took his opportunity to slip his tongue between my parted lips. He picked me up and placed me on the counter and began to trace his lips down my neck leaving slight love bites in his wake. “I want you to wake up and see just what I’ve done to you. I want you to remember me when you look in the mirror.”

He stood back and admired his work and began to run his hands over my soft thighs. His hands seemed to be dangerously close to where I needed him most. I tried to squirm but his strong hand kept me in place. “Where are you going, (Y/N). I need you to stay still so I can do what I want. Isn’t that what you want?” 

I nodded at his question and he continued to run his hands over my thighs. admiring me. His hand ghosted over where I needed him most and I let out a sigh. “You’re so eager for me. Tell me what you want me to do.” Steve said. “I want you to touch me.”

He complied easily with my request and dipped his fingers under the waistband of my leggings. He rubbed his fingers over the material of my underwear, slightly teasing me. My breathing sped up rapidly as I waited for him to pull my panties to the side. 

He pulled them to the side and ran a finger through my folds. “You’re so wet already? Does he not touch you like this?” He questioned. I shook my head no in response. “You’re the only one who has touched me like this in a long time.” Steve smirked and said, “Good, keep it that way.”

He sunk a finger into my core with little resistance and used his thumb to rub soft circles over my clit. “I can take more.” I said. “You’ll take what I give you.” Steve responded. I nodded my head and let him continue his work.

He pushed a second finger in and curled them in an upwards motion. I let out a soft moan. As he continued curling his fingers, I felt myself teetering on the edge. “I’m close.” The moment those words left my lips, Steve retracted his fingers and pulled his hand out of my leggings briskly.

I let out a soft whine. “Don’t be disappointed, I’ll give you what you want soon. But I want you to cum on my face. I want to taste you.”

I took no time in shimmying out of my leggings and panties and dropped them somewhere on my kitchen floor. Steve picked me up and carried me towards the hallway. “It’s the second door on your right, if you’re looking for my bedroom.” Steve nodded and continued his path. 

When he reached my bedroom, he placed me on the bed. He pulled his shirt off and hovered over me. “I took mine off, so I feel as if it’s only fair if you do the same.” I pulled my shirt off and began to unclasp my bra. “Leave the bra, I want to take it off of you when I’m ready.”

Steve began nipping his way down my chest and stopped at my bra to tug my nipple through his teeth over my bra. I let out a soft moan and raised my hips to meet his, needing more from him. “Be patient.” 

He continued nipping and kissing his way down my body and reached right below my belly button. I thought he would tease me but instead he delved right in-between my folds. He licked up my pussy skillfully and looked up at me through his eyelashes. He raised his head and said, “You taste so sweet. Wish I could stay here all day.” He then continued by drawing light circles over my clit with his tongue. 

I was a mess underneath him and raised my hand to curl into his blonde hair. He looked up briefly and I could see my juices gleaming in his scruff. I let out the softest groan at how his face looked covered in my wetness. I wish I could see him like this every day. 

His tongue dipped into my entrance and then he quickly replaced his tongue with two fingers. Working them inside of me. My legs were starting to shake and I was getting closer to my release. “I want you to let go for me. Cum for me.” That was all it took for me to let go. It had been so long since I had an orgasm ripped from me and I was still sensitive from being edged earlier.

“You look so pretty when you cum. Love that I can make you feel so good.” Steve said as he adjusted his position to give me a kiss. He grinned his hips down into mine as the kiss got more heated and let out a soft moan at the feeling of my heat pressing against his cock.

“Can I fuck you? I wanna feel you wrapped around my cock. So tight, just for me.” Steve said and I nodded and palmed him through the pair of joggers. “I’m gonna fuck you raw. Fill you up and make you mine. Mark your walls with my cum. Nobody will ever touch you like this again. Only me.”

I felt dizzy at the idea of that and quickly tugged at his joggers. I had only just now realized that I had not given him any boxers earlier and felt the heat rise to my cheeks. I pulled his joggers down and watched as he springed out of his confines. 

He pulled his joggers off the rest of the way and hovered over me with one hand near the side of my head and the other pumping his cock. He placed himself at my entrance and I nodded at him, signaling that he could begin easing in. 

He slipped past my entrance with ease and pushed the rest of the way in. Pain twisted over my features, as it had been a while since I had fucked anybody. Especially somebody of his size. He gave me a moment to adjust and soon the pain turned into an overwhelming sense of pleasure.

I nodded and he thrusted in and out of me at an agonizingly slow pace. “Faster please, Stevie.” I said letting the nickname slip and begging for more. He complied and brought a hand around my neck and slammed into me at a quick and harsh place.

I felt him brush against my sweet spot and let out a loud moan. Steve noticed and angled himself where he brushed against it every time. “You’re so fucking tight. Squeezing me like that. I love the way you make me feel.” 

I moaned and gripped his cock even tighter, feeling the heat pool in my stomach. “I’m so close. Please don't stop.” I begged out to him. He did anything but stop and set a much faster pace. “I’m close to. I’m going to cum in you. Fill you up so full. So good. Want you to go to sleep dripping.” I moaned out at the idea.

“C’mon baby doll, I'm so close. Just a little bit longer.” I nodded and he grunted signaling just how close he was. Steve nodded and as I felt him painting my walls with his cum it triggered my release. He helped us ride out our highs and stayed like that for a moment.

He rolled off of me and took in the moment. Giving out sweet praises to me about how good I was for him and how much he enjoyed himself. Once we both came back to reality, Steve looked over to me.

“I don't want this to be a one time thing. I want you. All of you. Anything you’ll give me. Anytime and anywhere. I love you and have for quite some time.” Steve confessed.

“I love you too, Stevie.”

[wangshuus]

delicacy | diluc ragnvindr

pairing: yan!diluc ragnvindr/gn!reader

genre: psychological

cw: unhealthy relationship, mentions of forced marriage, ooc diluc (lol)

wc: 2.6k

summary: to diluc, you are a delicacy that he wishes to savour.

note: i’m sorry in advance my dear readers this is absolute dog water ajfhaiufhfui. this was just an experiment since i don’t think i’ve written a decent yandere ever and this kinda proves it but it’s ok i’ll get there one day. just take my ooc diluc. yes, i know i screwed up real bad on this one but let's just say i loosened a few screw for the sake of the plot,,,yeah,,,i’ll probably need to proof read this again too but its ok ahhhhh.

“It’s useless to keep tugging at those binds. You know they won’t come off unless I take them off myself. Now, be good and sit still.” You heard a familiar voice. 

It was once a voice that you were delighted to hear but now the very mention of the owner sent a wave of striking cold upon your body, ironic considering who it was. You had no idea where you were, what day it was, or what time it was. You were completely clueless, being stuck in a dark room with nothing but a bed in which you’ve been bound by the headboard. The room was concerningly chilly, the air in the room being crisp, cold and suffocating. The figure in the room made their way to the edge of the bed next to sit next to you. You felt a gloved hand place itself upon your cheek. It was so warm you almost wanted to lean into it but you refused to find comfort in the touch of your detainer.

You were but a simple bartender, loyal to working at the famous Angel’s Share in Mondstadt. You previously resided in Springvale with your parents but moved to the city due to your job. Your family lived a happy little life, not drowning in riches but being comfortable enough to sustain a plausible living. In your head, you were so painfully boring; so here lies the question, how exactly did you get into this situation? Not even you knew the answer but one thing that you could make sense of in the whole ordeal was that the main that stood in front of you was mad.

Diluc Ragnvindr has many titles ranging from the renowned owner of the Dawn Winery to one of Mondstadt’s most esteemed bachelors. He claimed such a high and mighty reputation that no one would’ve guessed the devious intents hidden in the back of his head. Yes, you were a mere bartender that worked under him at his own tavern but ever since you were hired, he felt something stirring up within him. Now you see, Diluc wasn’t someone that you would find chasing after anyone in fact, he’s never chased after anyone at all until he met you. He was confused at first why he started feeling the way that he did when you were around, unfamiliar emotions began to bubble inside of him.

You were just so easy to talk to, so charming, so comforting, a breath of fresh air to him, truly. At first, he assumed it would be nothing but a short lived infatuation, expecting for his feeling to dissipate like a dying flame in a matter of time but this flame only burned bigger, brighter, and belligerent as the days passed. Diluc wasn’t exactly sure how his feelings came to be. Perhaps it was due to the loss, betrayal and tragedy that stained his past. Maybe it was his longing to be loved again, to hold someone close and never let go, or to have someone hold him and allow him to bask in the feeling of being lovingly embraced-- which was a feeling that became painfully foreign to him.

It had been so long since he found comfort in anything or anyone, becoming accustomed to being isolated, building up walls to keep everyone out and away. He had no one left to care for and presumably no one left to care for him, making the pyro wielder take on such an aloof personality. After his whole ordeal, he was never truly the same, so to see him look genuinely pleased by someone was such a shock to the public eye. Of course, you had come to enjoy Diluc’s presence as he stopped by the tavern fairly often to check up on the flow of business and you had the chance to talk to him during his visits. You had heard from others that the young man was awfully reserved and indifferent towards any subject matter but he was seemingly interested in any conversation between the two of you, even partaking in the act of idle-chit chat as a means to continue talking to you. Anything for you.

He was greatly enamoured by you; everything about you. He’s taken every second he could to observe you and your nature, falling in love with the little things about you from the way you brightened up the room with your cheerful demeanour, the way you gracefully made your way across the tavern during, the way your eyes twinkled when you were talking about him about something you loved--archons the way he wished for you to only look at him with those eyes full of an enthusiastic sparkle. He wanted that; and he wanted it all for himself. Once he realized this was the case, he went through a spiralling hole of madness. He found himself being obsessive with looking out for you, going above and beyond by following you in the shadows every chance he could get, his self control on his possessiveness running as thin as a strand of hair. 

Diluc was scary to say the least. His ability to deceive people into thinking he was still the reserved yet distinguished gentleman while he was falling into a pit of insanity was nothing short of terrifying. He remained unsuspecting and planned to keep it that way, deeming himself capable of being able to resist his maniacal urges. All until one conversation between the two. You had mentioned that your family had begun to run into a few financial problems, becoming entangled in a circle of debt. You had concluded that though you loved what you were doing, it couldn’t have been enough to support your situation so you had conversed with Diluc about going to Liyue to find extra work. All you knew was that there was a high chance you couldn’t stay grounded at the tavern forever, even rejecting Diluc’s offer of a raise, deeming that you didn’t deserve it and did not wish to trouble him. You saw this as a good opportunity to explore beyond the land of the wind that you had ironically been grounded at your entire life. 

Oh no no no, this couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t allow it to happen. And that’s when he snapped. 

Diluc’s mind worked quickly as he devised a dubious plan to keep you grounded. He knew what you were like; he knew you would be stubborn and go. He saw that shine of determination in your eyes when you mentioned your plans of fleeing Mondstadt, the same shine that he wanted to capture and keep for himself and oh boy, he was gonna have it. The next time you saw him, he had personally invited you to a party that he said he was hosting. You found it quite surprising since it was a rarity for him to ever host a party considering his nature but you accepted nonetheless. You trusted Diluc enough and besides, who would deny an invitation from someone like him. Little did you know, this was quite possibly one of the worst decisions you’ve made in your entire life.

“Dear, you’re spacing out again.” He spoke, a foreign tone that sounded so sickly sweet to a point where you wanted to hurl. 

“Please don’t address me as such. You’re twisted for doing this. What do you even want from me? Huh? I can’t offer you anything so this is nothing but a waste of time.” You spat at him, harshly pulling your cheek away from his grasp. 

“Your presence alone is enough to satisfy me. Also, I’d appreciate it if you stopped acting disobedient before I really lose my patience. I’ve been so patient with you, do you know that? I’ve been waiting for ages to have you all to myself like this but…” He paused for a moment.

“I was far too nice and considerate of your freedom. To think I’d let you leave just like that is absurd. That’s exactly why you’re here. I’d like to apologize in advance for tricking you into thinking there was an actual party, especially since you got all dressed up for me tonight but I believe this is quite the positive thing because now I’m the only one that gets to see you like this” He said as he gently lifted up a piece of fabric from your clothing.

“You wore the clothing I had custom made for you. I knew you would look ravishing in it. You’re my pretty little doll, aren’t you dear?” He said as he brought a piece up to his lips as they gently graced the smooth satin of your outfit. 

A strange package had made its way to your doorstep days before this treacherous evening. When opening it up, it was revealed to be a black and red outfit made of what felt like to be the finest fabrics and silk you’ve ever seen. The first time you tried it on, you felt ecstatic with being gifted to you, blushing to yourself over the fact that Diluc had gone out of his way to get you something this stunning. Now, you wanted nothing more than to rip the thing off your body and run away from the damned place you were held captive but you knew it was no use at this point. Your body shivered at the coldness of the room as it felt like the sheer cold was steadily increasing.

“You’re shivering. You’re cold aren’t you?” Diluc said, having the audacity to chuckle at your pathetic state. You stayed quiet, not wanting to admit or give into anything.

“No response? Oh well, it’ll only be a matter of time until the possibility of freezing to death becomes exceptionally high. I’d rather not have that happen so I’ll do you a favour since you happen to be a little shy isn’t that right? You don’t need to be shy with me. Come here.” He says as he draws closer to you. Your chains rattled while you attempted to put as much distance as you could between you two but it was no use. He swiftly wrapped his arms around you, one hand wrapped around your waist, the other at the back of your head, pulling you into the crook of his neck. Your hands pushed against his chest in a poor attempt to put as much distance between you and him but in the end, you couldn't bring yourself to. The coldness of the room significantly weakened you although it ceased when he held you, his body warmth being enough for him and yourself as well. You cursed the pyro wielder and his antics. He knew that you’d be freezing, seeing this as the perfect opportunity to get closer to you. Your arms fell back on to you sides 

“There you go, all relaxed now. See, nice and warm.” He cooed while stroking the back of your head lovingly. Although you were physically warm now, you still felt a shiver run down your spine at the touch of the pyro user.

“You’re sensitive to touch, how cute.” He stated before pulling away to look you in the eyes, the edges of his lips slightly upturned.

“On another note, I have some news to share with you.” He spoke out. Your eyebrows furrowed at the mention of more news, thinking there is no possible way that anything could get any worse; unfortunately, you were dead wrong.

“You see, I had the chance to speak with your parents the other day in regards to your financial situation. I explained to them that I was more than willing to help them but they became quite stubborn after I introduced my offer. I see where you get your stubbornness from now.” He sighed.

Your eyes widened, fear, anger and concern mixing in your (e/c) orbs. 

“Diluc, I swear to the archons what did you--.” He brought a finger up to your lips to hush you from your growing concern. 

“Hush now, there’s no need to get riled up, I’m not finished. Now quiet down and listen to me.” He stated.

“It was quite a simple offer I gave them, really. I would be a financial aid all in exchange for your hand in marriage. They started to get all defensive, claiming that they’d never marry off their child. They were oh so protective over you, but they could never come close to comparing to me.”

Dread and horror filled your eyes as you were rendered speechless, waves of unpleasant emotions washing over you like a tidal wave. 

“You see, it definitely took a lot of work to get where we are now, but you need not to worry, dear. They will not be of any concern to us anymore.” He said as a smile graced his features. You would’ve considered him to be handsome in the moment but the smile he held was so deranged that it was appalling. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, too afraid to even ask what happened to them or what became of them. You knew the situation; you knew the power that Diluc held. He was well aware of his looming power of you and he used it and abused it. It didn’t take very long for your tears to start streaming from your eyes as you began to sob, tears spilling onto your lap. Diluc cupped your face as he brushed away the oncoming tears that continued to overflow. 

“Shhh, don’t cry my dear, this news is excellent. I couldn't even fathom you getting hurt or even leaving me but I don’t have to worry now do I? Because you’re going to be all mine.” He said before forcibly kissing your tear-stained cheeks. 

You felt absolutely disgusting and embarrassed over the lips that graced your skin, having someone as unhinged and deranged as him seeing you in such a vulnerable and helpless state. 

“You know, I’ve had my fair share of people both leave and betray me.They’ve left me alone in this world but none of it matters now that I have you here. You’re the most divine person I’ve come across. So lovely, so warm, and so bright, like the rays of sunlight. I want to bask in your presence and now, I can for however long I’d like. I refuse to lose anyone else, especially not you and now this time, I know I won’t. If your freedom has to be sacrificed in order for you to stay alive, so be it. I’ll choose you the finest white attire for our special day. You’ll be me precious darling for the rest of your days. Doesn’t that sound lovely, dear?” You remained unresponsive.

One of his hands slipped past the fabric of your clothing as his gloved fingertips lightly pressed onto the bare small of your back, earning a yelp from you.

“I said doesn’t that sound lovely? Respond when spoken to. I want to hear your voice.” He said sternly. You managed to mumble out a small yes in return.

“That’s my good little darling.” He spoke before before he pulled you in for a kiss. You refused to return the action and it certainly didn’t go over his head. The hand that rested on the small of your back began to get hotter, feeling as if it was searing your skin, earning a shriek and a cry from you, allowing him to deepen his passion filled kiss, smirking at the way you’ve decided to submit yourself to him while his own lips remained locked with your own.

The land of Mondstadt was said to be the land of freedom and yet here you were, your fate bound and chained by the insanity disguised as love by Diluc Ragnvindr. You were a delicacy to him, and he’d be sure to savour every last bit of you. 

[lizzybeth1986]

Hi Lizzy. So, I've been reading your stuff the last few months and I really love it! TRR was of particular interest to me because you made me realise that the uneasy feeling I had for some characters (Penny, Kiara, Maddie and Hana) was correct, even though I couldn't put it in words. So, I might be asking for too much but: Do you think post-BLM stories (QB,BOLAS,FA,LOA) have improved on representation or nah?

(Let me see if this ask actually loads and if it does not, fuck you Tumblr 😣)

Thank you for this question! I believe you sent another question after this one on QB alone, so I'll probably talk about that there.

I guess it depends on what you perceive as representation. There are many who will point to the sheer quantity of CoC in the books and call it representation, but personally for me the problem has always been the type of content given to CoC and how their treatment compares to that of, say, white LIs or side-characters (there is also the other question of colorism - which CoCs get better treatment than others and why?). The other thing is since I'm not playing anymore my knowledge will be secondhand at best but I'd highly appreciate it if people who played those books did weigh in.

The thing with the one-year-later update on Rep was that they heavily focused on the increase in the number of customizable characters, and the hairstyles...all of which is great but not when customizable characters are treated like some kind of bandaid for actual representation. Customizable characters tend to often be written as having the same experiences across the board (except for a few rare cases, such as John in The Unexpected Heiress), sometimes with very little thought into how a character of a different race will perceive something or be treated. So qualitatively, you're not going to be satisfied with just that unless your default CoC are themselves treated better.

(there is a whole other argument to be made on how the same fandom who now complains about the "boring", "all of them are the same" customizable characters, happily played into the heirarchies that determined treatment and promoted the same heirarchies - there was always better treatment of a customizable LI when there were many of them in one book, when the LI was only gender-customizable rather than race, or when the default one was a POC you couldn't exoticize. Otherwise I saw fandom treat plenty customizable characters like shit in books with default white/exoticizable brown LIs, and better than normal when a black default character were there. But that is for another time).

In terms of the books you'd cited...well, BOLAS deals with fantasy races, and I'm not sure if they make any direct co-relations to race in the real world but someone who has actually played the book can perhaps answer this better (I didn't follow the book discourse much either, sorry. I do, however, recall fandom having the same level of disdain for Nia that they had for Hana...and tbh I find that disgusting. I hear, thankfully, that she's still center-stage in the boom itself so one plus point for BOLAS I guess?). Similarly for LOA.

I did follow some of the discourse surrounding FA, however, and the treatment for Ayna was par on course with what they'd been doing to desi characters for a while. Whatever I'd seen of the discussions on her treatment reminded me of Teja and Jackie, where either the character was written out in some way, or was written so badly as to lose support altogether. While the fandom may view desis as exotic (well...the only case I've seen of this tbh was Ajay in HSSCA, so it's notable that the male desi got this and the female ones did not), PB doesn't seem to view them on the scale they view exoticizable male characters... so it doesn't surprise me that desi characters - esp desi female characters - lose out. I'm not sure if I've heard anything in terms of the other characters - the posts about Tatum on my dash seemed to be from people who were pretty happy with his treatment IIRC.

I think in a lot of ways I feel like PB views representation a bit more as a numbers game (they do mention the Sensitivity Workshops in that post, but I guess only time will tell what effects we will see) than qualitatively. So honestly all I'll say is that if you're still playing and still wanting to give feedback, it's best to be alert. If you see applause-worthy representation, highlight it by all means but also see if it will be consistent moving forward. If you see them correcting a mistake, highlight that but understand that it may not always result in good treatment thereafter. In the meantime those of us who do benefit from these unequal representations...we need to look into how we promote some of these biases in our own fan content, because the fanbase, sometimes, can and does influence how things are written and changes are made. We got to the point where an Afro-Latine man almost died because PB kept getting away with increasing levels of bad treatment, so if there is any advice I can give based on what I observed of PB and the fandom in the last three years...it will be what I said above.

[sunflowerstache]

Lifespan

A/N: Hello! This is very different from most of my writing, not only because its an OC, but because the storyline is just something out of my comfort zone. But I really hope you enjoy it(: I got the inspiration from a ad I saw on Facebook a long time ago lmao but yeah, come say hi once you’ve read it and tell me what you think! It’s much appreciated! I love you all so very much! Also hugeeeee shoutout to @devil-in-bw-the-sheets​ for spending like six months reading and re-reading this every single time I rewrote it and changed things and encouraging me each time! And @emotionally-imbruised​ for beta reading it for me!💛💛

Word Count: 7.3k

“Doll?”

The fog that seemed to have settled over your mind instantly melted away upon hearing the barista’s voice, her sweet drawl grounding your focus back on her. She was an older woman, probably nearing her sixties based on the collection of grey hairs scattered throughout her small ponytail. But still so incredibly full of life. She had red glasses perched atop her nose - which perfectly completed the red polka dots covering her black dress - a beaded chain dangling from the end to the front of the frame, a pair of silver peace sign studs resided in her ears, and the anatomically correct symbol for caffeine dangled in necklace form on her chest.

“What? I’m sorry.”

“Just asked if you wanted the cream on that.” She smiled, thin lines spreading out and away from the sides of her eyes as her mouth widened. Upon glancing down quickly, you took notice of her clearly hand drawn name tag filled with swirling letters - different then when you stopped by earlier in the week when she had used stickers to spell out “Rita”.

“Oh, um yeah sure. Why not.”

“My husband always says that during weather like this, the calories don’t count. That they disappear with your shivering. Can I just have your name, dear?”

“Georgie. And your husband sounds like a very smart man.”

“Oh, he is.” A dreamy look took over Rita’s features, like just thinking about the man made her heart race. “Been together for forty-two years and he still teaches me new things.”

Your heart ached with each word; the fog slowly started to creep back through your mind while you watched her grin fondly. The hope and excitement for the future that was always so very clear in people’s eyes was what made it so hard not to explain everything you knew, every secret you held. However, as much as you wanted to urge everyone to live the life they’ve always wanted, you knew there was a natural balance to life, and opening your mouth would undoubtedly throw that balance off. So instead, you grinned and nodded your head.

“He sounds wonderful.”

“My best friend. Counting down the minutes until the end of my shift. We’re heading up to see our grandbabies for the week.” It was like she knew exactly what kind of secret you were keeping and made sure to hit you where it hurt each time she opened her mouth. As if her being impossibly sweet didn’t hurt enough.

“That sounds nice.” Digging around in your bag for your wallet made it much easier not to focus on the ticking time bomb in front of you. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh my! I’m sorry, I know I can’t talk forever if no one stops me.” her laugh was soft, inviting, one you would love to listen to while storytelling. “It’s four pounds.”

“You can keep the change.” You said when handing her some cash, but stopped yourself before you turned to walk away. Even if you weren’t ever going to outright explain anything to anyone, slipping in tiny, reassuring comments made you feel at least a little better before parting ways. “Have an amazing night with your family Rita.”

The coffee shop was relatively empty at the hours you stopped by. Other than the same group of men that were there every morning, chatting over the newspaper and a black coffee and a young nurse who was just getting off of her night shift, only customers on their way to work stopped by. But that was just how you preferred it. It was much easier to avoid running into people when the sun had barely just peeked over the morning horizon. You suppose the city isn’t exactly the best place to reside when you’re on a mission not to get close to anyone, but you’d much preferred the hustle and bustle of the city than the silence of the countryside. At least here you were able to escape your thoughts when they got to be too much, out there you were left to drown in the weights you held.

Rita was right when she said the weather would bring shivering. The moment you stepped through the café doors, all sense of warmth you previously had was sucked out of you, leaving the tips of your fingers tingling against the warm cup. You hadn’t ever really gotten to know the woman behind the counter, a few kind greetings every now and again, but she seemed to be someone who brought a lot of joy to those around her. And she always put extra chocolate curls on your drink. You made a mental note to send some flowers to her family within the coming days.

It was a car horn that initially took your attention off of the pavement, turning to look for who was in such a rush at 5:30am, but the hard torso smacking into her shoulder is what brought your attention back. Followed by the searing heat of your hot chocolate spilling down your front.

“Oh fuck!” you yelled, immediately dropping the paper cup and trying to pull your shirt away from your body to decrease the chance of a burn. There goes your chance to get home and drive right to work without any issue.

“Oh my god! Oh shit!” the man that had ran into you gasped, stopping in his tracks and grabbing onto your elbow to steady your wild movements.

Even though his words were quite loud on the empty street, his voice was still husky, almost like he wasn’t awake yet and still had some left over sleep in his throat. And when you turned to look at who had ruined your shirt, your own voice got stuck in your throat. He was tall, which made sense considering your head had bounced right off of his chest. He was wearing black basketball shorts with tall white socks and a light grey hoodie, which was pulled up to cover the dark grey beanie resting on his head. With one hand he was holding a water bottle with ease, while the other was frantically pulling the airpod from his ear. But apart from his sheer stature, you couldn’t ignore how beautiful this man was. How even the worry lines littering his face were perfectly accenting his features. Or how the green of his eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim light of the Whole Foods you had been stopped in front of.

“I’m so sorry! Shit are you okay?” he quickly asked, shaking his head before you could even respond. “Obviously not, that was probably hot. Oh god I’m so sorry!”

Finally getting your bearings back, you couldn’t help but nod. “Yeah it was pretty hot.”

“Shit, I don’t even know how that happened. I must’ve taken my eyes off the pavement for one second. I’m so sorry.”

“So you’ve said.” You chuckled, bending down to pick up your now empty cup at your feet and tossing it in the bin by your side. “Don’t worry about it. Really it’s fine.”

“It’s not, I’ve ruined your shirt.” If the disappointment in his voice wasn’t evident enough, the small pout on his lips definitely was. He looked absolutely distraught at the sight of what he’d done. “Let me at least get you a new drink. It’s the least I could do.”

“Oh, um, that’s alright.” You’d always known it was rude to speak to someone and not give them eye contact, it was something your father had drilled into you as a child, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Looking someone in the eyes meant seeing above their head, and that was an area you actively tried to avoid looking. But there was something about him that drew you in, and you couldn’t help glancing up at him quickly again. “I actually have to be getting to work. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure? I feel terrible.”

“Positive. Have a good morning.” Your touch was soft on his arm as you made your way past him, leaving the mystery man standing on the pavement staring as you walked towards your flat.

You didn’t mean to be so short with him, but it’s just how you’d grown accustomed to living life. It was the easiest way you found not to get close to many people, which meant less hurt in the end. And you’d been around enough hurt in your short twenty three years. It may be a lonely life, but you were happy with your cat, comically named Lucifer, and living a simple life. Sure, there were times you wished you could live the carefree life everyone around you got to experience, your only issues being stresses of work or relationship drama, but that wasn’t who you were. After living the life you did, there’d be no way you could live a normal life.

“Don’t give me that look, Luci.” you grumbled when walking through your front door, your cat perched on the dining table just watching as you moved through the living room, ripping your destroyed shirt from your body. “This wasn’t my fault.”

You’re sure that you looked like a crazy person if anyone was watching on, talking to your cat while walking around your flat in nothing but a pair of black slacks and a bra. But you didn’t care, because this was your normal. You ranted to her after a long day at work or a particularly draining day, and she always sat and listened. Mostly because she was a cat.

“He just ran right into me, like he literally couldn’t see me. How odd, right?” you stopped briefly while searching your closet for a new shirt. “God Luci, he was cute though. So cute. And tall.”

Just because you secluded yourself in the world didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy taking a peak at what it had to offer. It was the forming relationships that put you off, not because there was a level of uncertainty - nothing was uncertain to you - but because you always knew the timeline of said relationships. It was always the same. So why put yourself through it? But also, why not? What if that was just what you needed to make such a painful existence a little more bearable?

“I didn’t even get his name. Maybe I’ll see him around the cafe sometime.” you hummed, throwing the new peach colored blouse over your head and peeking your face out of the hole. “No. No Georgie, don’t go there. Who are we kidding, it’s not like anything could ever happen anyway.”

Lucifer meows loudly at your comment., making you turn around to glare at her. Obviously she didn’t know what was actually going on, but it was nice to entertain the idea of someone listening to your problems and helping you talk them out. You were a secluded young woman, not crazy.

“What? Like I’m wrong? It’s not something I’d be able to keep from a boyfriend forever. And It’s not like I’d be able to just flat out tell them.”

She meowed again, jumping off the table and prancing her way to your feet, rubbing her side against your ankles.

“What would I even say? Hey, I was born with this thing where I can see a floating clock above everyone’s head that literally counts down to the day you die? Yeah because that won’t get me sent to the looney bin.”

From the start of time, there has always been a beginning and an end to everything. No matter if it was an Oscar award winning film, delicate relationships, or even life itself, it all ended. People come, and they go, but the world continues on; taking care of those who stay to see another day. And on a daily basis, the idea of the end rarely floats through anyone’s mind. Except for you.

For you, it was impossible not to think about when it was quite literally staring you in the face. For as long as you could remember, you walked through life with a different outlook on the end than most other people.It wasn’t because you had some near death experience, but due to a gift. Or at least what some people in the world would consider a gift, because in no way would you call being able to see the exact day someone is going to die, a gift.

It was something that over the years you had grown to ignore, trying not to look too far away from people’s eyes and never thinking too hard about the ticking numbers.They weren’t obnoxious or flashy signs hanging above everyone’s heads - like you had seen some films try and depict - but instead, just a simple, faint, white clock just above the tops of everyone’s head, showing each individual’s lifespan. No matter how many hours you sat down and tried to rationalize why you were able to see this, there was never any answer. No one else in your family carried the burden, and because of that, you never mentioned it to anyone in fear of sounding crazy. But you knew you weren’t crazy, not when you prayed night after night for those numbers to disappear or for someone’s clock to be wrong, only to be let down.

You knew you weren’t crazy when you finally saw your favorite florist Don after he spent some time away, and his clock suddenly read 3 years, 20 days, 6 hours, 42 minutes, and 6 seconds instead of the 27 years you had grown used to seeing on him every day before he left. It didn’t take long for you to find out he was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer and treatments had stopped working.

You knew you weren’t crazy when you got to watch Kim’s clock - the very sweet receptionist at your job - begin to slow down the more she adjusted to a healthy lifestyle of eating right and taking care of her body. What was once a ticking time of a measly 21 years adjusted what would be a long and fulfilled 59 years more.

And you knew you weren’t crazy when at only seventeen years old, you watched as your best friend’s clock suddenly dwindled down to zero’s across the board like a slot machine while laying on the bathroom floor of a house party. The drugs in her system being too much for her young body to handle and completely consuming the 72 years she once had left.

You weren’t crazy, you just carried a burden no one should ever have. And because of it, you made sure not to get close to anyone in fear of watching yet another clock strike zero.

So you moved on with your life, forgetting all about the tall man who had spilled your drink and run into your mind, making you think things you hadn’t in so long, and instead, focused solely on getting through your days at work and getting back home. It was an easy routine, one you hadn’t strayed from much since moving to the city six years ago; wake up, feed Luci, get coffee, go to work, go home, shower, watch tv, go to bed. And as happy as you were that life wasn’t so painful these days, boring would be the only word good enough to describe your life.

Until your neighbors moved in.

You were standing in the kitchen, lifting the collar up to your mouth to try and quickly lick the hot sauce off the old, ratty Elton John Tour shirt you were wearing before it left a stain, wearing nothing else but some shorts, a nice pair of cheetah print slippers to cover your chilly toes, and one of the two hundred paper face masks you’d ordered off of Amazon in an attempt to clear your skin, when the loud bang on your front door startled you. Not only did your family not live in town, but your neighbors knew that you weren’t a people person. Ever since you made that very clear to them upon moving in, they hadn’t tried to contact you, so you just assumed whoever it was had gotten the wrong flat number.

But the knocking persisted.

Lucifer’s head had picked up from her lap upon hearing the first knock, now watching as you made our way closer to the front door. “What do I do?” but the only response you received was her head tilting to the right, like she was saying ‘Really? Answer it you idiot.’

You wanted to be angry, you really did, because you were nearly ready to be completely settled in for the night after a terribly long day and you just wanted to watch some bad tv with Luci, but the moment you twisted the door knob and peered into the hallway, any anger you had felt, completely washed away.

“Hey! Sorry, my mates and I-” he abruptly stopped mid sentence once his eyes landed on you, like his train of thought literally face planted into a brick wall. A look of realization flashed across his face quickly, and in a matter of milliseconds, what was once stress turned into a look of excitement. “Hey! It’s you!” he smiled.

“It’s me.” something about him made it very difficult for you not to mirror his smile, but that desire was overpowered by the confusion coursing through your mind.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again! I still feel terrible about what happened, are you sure you were alright? You didn’t burn yourself, did you?” The man was incredible at changing his emotions at the drop of a dime, for now his eyes were laced with concern where excitement had just lived. “Or I guess I should say I didn’t burn you, did I?”

He was much more put together this time, the workout attire you had last seen him in was traded in for a pair of light red slacks that looked to be a crushed velvet material paired with a plain white t-shirt and a pair of black vans. He looked like any university boy you’d see walking the streets, but at the same time, like nothing you had ever seen before. Something about him standing in your doorway brought you a sense of calm, like just his presence was enough to wash away the stresses of your day.

“I mean I can’t say that it felt particularly good, but I didn’t get burned, no.”

“Oh good. That’s good.” he nodded, and you made the mistake of following his hand with your eyes as he lifted it up to his curls to fix the glasses perched on his head. You didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see what kind of fate the universe had in store for him because the peace he had brought to you in the few moments he’d been standing there felt better than anything had in the past few years. But you were never that lucky.

Your eyes quickly casted back down, looking back at the white of his shirt while you cleared your throat. “Did you need something….” you dragged out the end of the word to indicate that you didn’t know what to call him since he hadn’t bothered to mention his name.

“Oh, right. ‘M Harry.”

“Georgie.

“Hello Georgie.” if possible, the grin on his face doubled in size, causing two dimples to appear at the corners and the air in your chest to feel as though it was tightening.

The two of you stood in your doorway without saying anything for another moment before you spoke up; “So did you need something or…”

“Fuck, yeah.” his voice was breathy when he responded, standing up straighter, “My mates and I just saw you come home and we’re in desperate need of a needle and thread. You’ve got one?”

It only took a second for him to realize his words and that surprised look from when you first opened the door was back. His eyes widened and his hands raised in front of him as a way to stop you before you could respond.

“Not in a creepy way! We weren’t like watching you or summat, swear! My mates Niall and Louis just moved in across the hall.” using his thumb he pointed to the open door across the hall where you could see two other guys watching yours and Harry’s interaction. Upon realizing they were spotted, they raised their hands in a small wave. “We heard you come in. Not that we were actively listening! Just - ‘m sorry. I swear we aren’t creeps.”

“Good. Thought I’d have to sic my monster of a dog on you.” you replied, turning to dig through the small table in what could barely be considered an entryway. The table had started out as a place to keep your keys and mail, but like most did, quickly turned into a junk drawer. An abyss to put any and everything only to never see it again.

Harry’s eyes frantically looked behind you like some crazy monster was about to lunge at him for bothering you at night, even going as far as taking a small step back when the door opened a bit wider while you were looking for the tool. You laughed when glancing up quickly at the movement. It was obvious he was panicking at the new information of potentially getting mauled by a massive dog while simply asking for thread. So you put him out of his misery.

“There’s no dog. I’m just joking…”

As if on cue, Lucifer waltzed up to see what was going on at the front door, her small body weaving between your legs to get a nice scratch while checking out the never before seen man. “Oh! A cat! I love cats!”

“Yeah she’s pretty great.” you nodded, closing the drawer and holding your hand out to Harry. “Here you go. Um, not sure what colour you need so you can just take the whole bag.”

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you! Niall has a date in ten minutes and he’s split his only good pair of trousers.” he turned his head to look over his shoulder at the boys inside the other flat, trying to seem like they weren’t listening to the conversation, but very obviously doing just that. “Have to sew him in like ‘m some sort of tailor.” he chuckled, turning back to face you.

“Sounds like an exciting night.”

“Oh riveting. I would ask if you’d like to join but you look very busy-” the corners of his lips were trying hard not to curl upwards with the light sarcasm, wobbling a bit as he continued speaking, “-so I wouldn’t want to interrupt anymore than I already have. I’m sure I’ll see you again, I practically live with these two idiots.”

“‘M sure I will.” Luci hadn’t left your side since joining you at the door, instead, she began meowing quite loudly, so you bent down to scoop her into your arms.

You liked Harry, not only because he was a very obviously a good looking man, but because he seemed to pick up on your social cues fairly quickly. He didn’t linger and try to get as much out of you as possible or make the fact that you clearly didn’t have much interest in talking uncomfortable. And it was the first time in a long time that you felt content being around someone. Not fearing what the future brought.

Harry halted his movements halfway between flats and spun back around quickly. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you press kisses to Lucifer’s head while standing in the doorway. Something you gathered from the very brief times you’d shared an encounter was that Harry was not very good at hiding his emotions. It was almost like he had no control of his mouth, because you could see him try to stop the smile from spreading, but it was no use. The dimples popped out in full force.

“I still owe you for that coffee.”

“Oh, um not a coffee.”  you tried not to be loud enough for him to hear, noting that the fact that it wasn’t a coffee was not really that important, but he heard you anyway.

“Pardon?”

“Just um, it wasn’t a coffee. More of a hot chocolate drinker actually.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead just continued watching you with fond eyes and a now very prominent smile. You felt as though he could sense how out of touch with relationships you had begun to get over the years. What other explanation could he have for being so soft with someone he had just met and barely even known

“Right, well keep your schedule open so I can take you out for that replacement cocoa.”

Your door swiftly closed the second he turned back around, not leaving any extra seconds for him to turn around and look at you again. And the second she heard the click of the lock, Luci leaped out of your arms and made her way over to the sofa, meowing her entire journey.

“Yes that was him.” another meow. “I told you he was cute, and I also told you nothing would be happening there.”

Harry wasn’t lying when he said you’d be seeing him again. It seemed as though every day when you got back to your flat, he was there. Sometimes on his way out, other times just standing outside the door waiting for the other boys. And despite how at peace being around Harry had made you feel that day he came knocking at your door, you never put in much more effort than a “hello” here and there. He and the others had tried quite a few times to get you to join them on their night out, but each time you came up with a different excuse. Even if they were comforting, what was the point in forming that friendship when you knew you’d just isolate yourself again eventually. You had made it this long without getting too close to anyone else, and you weren’t going to start just because two attractive lads moved in across the hall who happened to have a very fit, very inviting, friend.

It wasn’t until nearly a month later that you actually had a full conversation with Harry again.

Typically you tried not to go to the coffee shop by your flat any later than lunchtime because it just got too busy. There were too many people for you to fully avoid them all and seeing too many clocks dampened your mood significantly. But you had already had a shitty morning and needed something to give you a boost.

The place had felt very melancholy since Rita’s unfortunate passing last month, she’d passed peacefully in her sleep while spending time with her family. You’d sent the family flowers as remembered, and also made sure to drop a few bills in the jar on the counter each time you’d been in the shop. Other employees were setting up a fund for Rita’s family since she was such a loved member of the community just with the joy she brought from behind the counter.

“Just a large hot chocolate for me, please.”

“For here or take away?”

“Take away please.”

“Actually she’ll have that for here, please.” a familiar voice behind you spoke up as you were digging through your bag for your wallet. You could see him out of the corner of your eye move from his spot behind you, to gradually standing next to you, looking directly at the barista behind the counter.

“Um..” you felt bad for the young kid, he couldn’t be any older than eighteen and all he wanted to do was get to work and get out. But here you were making his day more stressful than it needed to be. “So… for here then?”

“Harry I -”

“Come on Georgie. Please.” never in your life had you seen a grown man bat his eyelashes, but here he was, trying to lure you in with his breathtaking green eyes.

“Fine.” your voice came out soft and you rolled your eyes, but on the inside you felt giddy, like what you remember life to feel like before you started isolating yourself. “Um, sorry. I’ll have it for here I suppose.”

“Do you want the cream?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, I’ll have a -” Harry’s profile was something you could get lost in. How the tip of his nose seemed to bounce with every word he said, how it looked as if his lips were made to form the words falling from between them, or how no matter how many times he tried to get it to stay back, one of his curls would continue to break loose from the rest and fall past his forehead. From what little you’ve seen of it, Harry had a great sense of fashion. Comfortable. A brown teddy bear jumper was covering his upper body, sleeves long enough to gather just past his hands and torso short enough that you could see his white shirt peeking out from underneath, ripped black jeans, a pair of black chelsea boots, and  those same tortoise shell glasses perched on his nose completed his look.  

“Ready?”

“Huh?”

“You ready? ‘ve got a table back by the door.”

The two of you made your move to walk back towards the front of the shop, but you halted in your tracks when you saw that yes, he in fact did have a table waiting for him, but it was also being inhabited by the two boys you had seen behind him when he came to ask for thread. Neal and Liam? And a girl was sitting between the two as they chatted amongst themselves.

“Harry I don’t -”

“Come on, I promise we don’t bite.” Apparently you still didn’t look convinced because he leaned down to be at your eye level and stuck his lip out in a pout. “One drink. Please? I owe you remember?”

“Yes and you’ve already bought me a new one, thank you by the way, so you don’t owe me anything else.”

“I know.” the apples of his cheeks began getting pinker the longer he stared at you, “But I’d very much like to spend some time with you.”

Just like he did when he knocked on your door, his eyes widened and immediately seemed to want to backtrack what he had said. “Wait no, not in that way. In like a ‘hey I think you’re cute -’ no fuck that’s not -”

“Harry.”

“Yes?”

“One drink.”

The relief was instant on his features, his shoulders sagging and eyebrows un-furrowing at your words. “Good. Afraid my mates were going to start thinking I made you up.”

“I live across the hall, they’ve seen me.”

“Well yeah, but I talk about you so much they thi- I - fuck.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from between your lips. You may not have had many friendships or relationships of any kind, but you did know excessive rattling wasn't generally how people spoke to one another.  “You babble a lot.”

“Only when ‘m nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?”

Harry wasted no time in his response, taking a quick glance over to you. “Because I finally get to spend time with the pretty girl across the hall.”

The heat rushing to your cheeks had become something of a common occurrence when speaking with Harry. It wasn’t obvious if he knew what he was doing or not, but you couldn’t imagine someone like Harry not knowing how to flirt. Thankfully, however, someone from the table spoke up before you could dwell on his comment longer than necessary.

“Finally!” the man sitting at the end of the booth spoke. He was dressed very similar to Harry in color - a tan quilted shirt was hidden beneath a cream colored teddy bear jacket, and pleated brown trousers. The light facial hair stubbled along his cheeks made him look slightly older than Harry, but his complete baby face counteracted that.

Harry looked at you briefly, raising his eyebrows with a ‘what did I tell you?’ kind of look as he bent down to slide into the booth next to the other man. His style was much different than the other two, more streetwear. He was wearing black trackies and an old gray band tee under a denim jacket, baseball hat and the very apparent smell of cigarettes finishing off the outfit. Another difference with him was that he had a girl with him. What you assumed to be his girlfriend by the way her head was resting on his shoulder and his hand fell on her knee. She was beautiful, long brown hair fell loose around her shoulders, only kept back by the fragile looking sunnies that rested at the top of her head. She was wearing a simple white top and a pair of white,black, and brown plaid trousers, both of which were overshadowed by the beautiful black Balenciaga jacket hanging off of her shoulders.

“Was starting to think you’d been lying about actually knowing her, Haz.” the one closest to Harry spoke, earning a light slap to his chest from the girl on his shoulder.

Harry disregarded all of their antics and turned to pat the seat next to him, indicating he wanted you to sit down, and he gave you a reassuring nod when you nibbled your lower lip between your teeth.

It was subtle acts like Harry letting you sit on the outside of the booth so you could make a quick getaway if needed that reminded you how easily he seemed to pick up on your social cues - even if you didn’t realize you did them. It made your chest tickle that even just from the two substantial conversations you’d had with him, Harry picked up on things you did.

“Piss off.” Harry chuckled, reminding you a lot of friendships you’d seen on tv where they all take the piss but it was easy to see that they all cared for one another. It was something you’d always been envious of while watching the world from the sidelines. “Georgie, this is Niall, Louis, and Louis’ girlfriend Eleanor. Everyone, this is Georgie.”

You were met with a chorus of hellos and you would’ve loved to just jump right into their conversation about the best places to get guacamole, just so that they knew you weren’t intentionally being rude to them. But not only were you not good at this conversation thing, but you also were still on edge about forming any sort of connection with these people. Apparently you should get used to Harry and his all knowing mind, because before you could excuse yourself from the awkwardness, he spoke up.

“So, how long have you lived in the building?”

Unprepared for the question, you froze for a second. “Oh, um going on six years now.”

“Impossible! What are you, like twenty? No way you’ve lived there that long!” Eleanor asked, her head no longer on Louis’ shoulder, instead she was sitting upright and looking directly at you. Of course, over the span of the years, you had gotten quite good at looking at people without really paying any attention to what was only visible to you above their heads, but it still made you uneasy. The best solution was just not to look at them at all. But these people, people who had no idea who you were a mere ten minutes ago yet were now welcoming you into their lives, made you want to work on avoiding the numbers. Because this was the most alive you’d felt in years.

“‘M twenty three. Be twenty four next Friday.”

“No shit! Alright well I’m coming over so you can teach me your skincare routine because you look flawless.” she gleamed, leaning forward on the table to jot down her phone number on one of the many spare napkins littering the tabletop.

“As much as I love a good skincare routine, let’s not skip over the more important part of that sentence. Your birthday is next week?” Harry asked, gently shoving his shoulder against yours and offering a kind smile when you glanced up at him.

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. I haven’t really celebrated my birthday since I turned like eleven.” your parents used to throw you a party every year while growing up, a lavish over the top kind of party where all of your classmates were invited and family you had never even heard of pinched your cheeks. But as time went on and you didn’t give up your ‘ridiculous fantasy’ as your mother so kindly put it, they began to stop throwing the party. Now, you were lucky if they sent you a card on the day. Plus, celebrating your birthday alone is kind of a downer.

“You haven’t celebrated your birthday in over a decade?” Niall’s mouth hung open like that was the craziest thing he’d ever heard.

“Nope.”

“Well that just won’t do.” you may not know very much about the people seated around you, but the smirk on Louis’ face told you everything you needed to know. “We’re having a party.”

“Um, thank you. Really. But parties aren’t really my thing. Plus I’m working that day so…”

“Oh, where do you work?” Harry asked, thoroughly interested in where you spend most of your days.

“Good Samaritan.”

“The nursing home down on Adams?”

“That’s the one. I’m a caregiver.” when you first applied for the position, you thought you were crazy. For someone who doesn’t want to get close to anyone in fear of their untimely demise, you definitely went for a job exactly the opposite. But that was the appeal to you. Sure, it was terribly sad to see one of your patients pass, but in the time leading up to it, you knew exactly who needed a little extra love. It was nice to be able to remind their loved ones to visit while making routine phone calls, and to do things to make them smile in what only you knew were their last days. It was the only time you thought what you were born with was some kind of gift. The tiniest most unwelcomed gift.

“That’s wonderful.” Harry’s voice was gently next to you, like he was hanging on to every short word that you said.

“Well, we’ll just have a party once you’re done with work.” Louis shrugged, but held his hands up when you opened your mouth to remind him you didn’t want anything. “Not a party, a friendly get together with friendly neighbors and alcohol.”

That day in the cafe was the beginning to a new start for you.

Obviously Lucifer had to hear about everything that happened that afternoon, but she was there to experience it first hand when Eleanor came knocking on your door the following day. She got to watch as you bent over in genuine laughter at your shared banter. She watched from the kitchen counter as Harry came by with food one night, saying he just happened to order extra lo mein and heard you come home. And as the two of you sat in the living room watching Big Brother, talking about everything from your favorite color to why he majored in physical therapy in university. Luci got to watch you break out of the shell you’d worked so hard on forming around you, and even though you knew she couldn’t understand what was happening, you liked to think her frequent meows were those of encouragement.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” The yells came from all corners of the room when you walked into Louis’s flat the following Friday, making your eyes widen and shoulders straighten. As much progress as you’d been making in your life, with branching out and slowly losing your fear of connection, it would take more than a week to crack down those barriers you’d built so high for so long.

“Thank you.” you laughed, putting down the bottle of wine you’d brought just in time for everyone to start surrounding you in hugs.

“Happy Birthday, love.” Harry’s voice was soothing in your ear, like a sense of relief in the overstimulation the other three had given you. You didn’t regret their company like you would have only a month ago, instead you welcomed the foriegn feelings. But it was still nice to have a moment of calm to fully process everything.

“Thank you Harry.”

“I hope it’s not too much. I told them to cool it on the balloons and confetti - especially since we all know I’ll be the one to pick it up in the morning.” he laughed, offering you a glass of wine that everyone else seemed to already be enjoying.

“No, no, it’s great. A nice segway from doing nothing every year.”

“Still can’t believe you haven’t celebrated your birthday in so long! That’s a day that should be celebrated by everyone!”that same look you’d grown to quite enjoy flashed over his features, his momentary distress as he realized he said something he wasn’t planning on sharing. But the look disappeared when he saw your knowing smile. “Don’t start.”

As promised, there was no party, per say. Everyone was just scattered around Louis’ living room telling stories about absolutely nothing that had everyone in stitches. It was the kind of party you’d always been envious of, one where mates could hang out and lose themselves in the company of each other. It was the first time you didn’t have a single thought about impending doom for more than an hour, a feit you would be sure not to forget.

Niall was laid out on the floor under the windows, a half empty bottle of rum in his hand and the other rested on his stomach, occasionally itching an invisible nuisance. Louis was seated in the arm chair directly across from Niall, a very buzzed Eleanor draped across his lap and the more the night went on, the less chances you had of seeing their faces separated. And Harry was seated next to you on the sofa, his arm hung on the back of the cushion in such a way that everyone so often you would feel the very tips of his fingers skim the exposed skin on your shoulder.

You wished you could freeze this moment in time, because a photograph or video would never do it justice. It was almost as if you were watching the night play out in front of you like a movie, not really in your body but watching from afar. Watching as the girl who hid herself from the world began to hatch, slowly cracking the hard exterior surrounding her. And you would do anything to bottle the feeling of pride that swelled in your chest knowing you had achieved that.

“Literally right in the face mate. No joke.” Niall cackled, his laugh a contrast in that moment; escaping his mouth loudly but carrying throughout the room softly. Taking off like a leaf blowing through the fall breeze.

“Georgie.” your name slipped from between Harry’s lips beautifully, like he was created for the sole purpose of saying your name over and over again; forever. “Alright?”

And sitting in the living room of Louis’ flat, listening to your friends’ wine induced giggles, looking at the most captivating pair of green eyes and curly hair that only whatever magical being that was above could’ve created, you were alright. You were so alright that the minuscule ticks of the clocks of your new and only friends, ticks you tried so hard to avoid paying attention to, almost seemed to disappear completely. Almost.

71 years, 2 months, 10 days, 3 hours, 16 minutes, 55 seconds. 68 years, 11 months, 3 days, 19 hours, 43 minutes, 2 seconds. 68 years, 7 months, 21 days, 1 hour, 58 minutes, 33 seconds. 62 years, 8 months, 9 days, 11 hours, 12 minutes, 2 seconds. 2 years, 1 month, 30 days, 23 hours, 34 minutes, 56 seconds.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

June Prompt #2- Carpe Diem

A POINT OF NO RETURN FLASHBACK 

A/N: Shh. It’s still June. Couldn’t leave past Clara and Ezra in the past, so here is another flashback from those three happy years on the farm before everything fell apart. This is closer to the three year mark in the PoNR timeline. I loosely based the stream behind Clara’s farm on the photo below- it’s one I took a few years back at Enfield Falls in NY. (The darker parts right under the small waterfalls are the deeper pools) 

Request: “skinny dipping” from @cannedsoupsucks​ 

WC: 1.6k

Warning: oh just a little hint of zesty times. can’t really skinny dip without those. 

Seasons turned quickly on Kamrea. 

The Thulian harvest spanned only three weeks before the rains came, soaking the land and raising the water level in the streams. After the month-long deluge, there was a blip in the weather patterns lasting anywhere from a few days to a week or two when the combination of the planet’s position and the clarity of a sky scrubbed clean of clouds made for breathtaking views. During that indeterminate window, the Vernal Star was at its brightest, giving the world a golden yellow glow, but the cerulean hued ocean planet Lao and its moon Brizo were also visible to the naked eye, and at certain times of day the light refracting off of Lao’s waters made the whole sky flash green. When the winter came it did so in a hurry, too, sweeping in under the dim purple light of the Hibernal Star, flash freezing the fields and orchards, and turning the Lakelands to ice. Snow flurried lazily for a fortnight or so and melted before it ever added up to an inconvenient amount. Before long the rotation of seasons was pivoting back towards planting and tending and time to get to work before the harvest crept up again.  

To an outsider, someone who hadn’t grown up there, life on Kamrea might easily seem rushed, stressful. Clocks ticked and calendar pages filled with Xs as Kamreans bustled along to keep with their constantly shifting time constraints and limitations. Nothing lasted long, and if you blinked you could miss things like the malachite color of the spring starshine bouncing off the waves on Lao or the iridescent glow Brizo gave off, even the faint but sweet smell in the air that signaled the beginning of the Thulian growing season, and you would have to wait an entire year for another chance.  

But to those who had spent enough time there, whether they grew up on the fertile planet like Clara or had transplanted themselves on Kamrean soil as Ezra had done, the pace and rigidity of the seasons wasn’t something to fight or fear. Instead it was a constant reminder that life was happening now, not later, that there was beauty in catching a moment that was meant to be fleeting, in appreciating small slices of time. Each day came with the potential to see or hear or feel something never experienced before, and the potential to miss those moments seemed only to invigorate the Kamrean philosophy of making every moment count. 

Which is precisely what I am doing. 

Ezra looked up between the branches of the crater-oak that the swing he and Clara occupied hung from, at the thunderhead that had been gathering in the sky over the last hour or so. Kamrea was about to experience one of those split-second switches, where it would cease to be Harvest season with the first raindrop to plummet from the fat-bellied clouds. Any minute, they and the fields and the barn and the town over the hills and everything else on this side of the globe would be caught in a deluge and soaked to the bone, to the roots, to the bedrock. He moved his arm from the backrest of the wooden swing to wrap around Clara’s waist, hand resting at her hip. 

Any minute now. 

Looking back down at Clara, he saw that she had taken her eyes off of the rippling stream that the swing was situated on the bank of, and turned her attention skyward as well. What little daylight that hadn’t been squeezed out by the clouds and managed to make it down through the foliage lit the profile of her face in clean, green-tinted hues and he briefly wondered if other people felt this level of awe and devotion when they were with the one they cared about most in life, or if this was unique to the two of them. If they don’t then I truly pity them. 

He watched her shoulders rise and fall as she sighed, the small motion one he had seen her do countless times before but still always bringing a flush of warmth to his chest. “End of another season.” She gave him a smile that quirked to one side, a mixture of pride and nostalgia and love for her farm twinkling in her eyes to make her face light up more than the leaf-filtered, cloud strangled starshine could. Oh, look at you, my Clara. Her tongue poked out then to wet her lips, and she stood from the swing, both of her hands clasping around the one of his that had been at her waist to pull him to his feet. “We should get inside before it starts coming down, or we’ll be soaked.” 

We certainly will be, that’s correct. 

“I think that you are absolutely right, Huckleberry.” Ezra took his turn to smirk then, catching her completely off guard as he stood only to use her own grips on his much larger hand against her. Pulling back, he yanked her into his arms, the second one swiftly enveloping her to make sure she was tucked tightly against his body, and then he jumped from the bank into the stream, plunging them both into one of the naturally formed deep pools at the base of one of the stream’s small cascades. Clara’s surprised gasp of his name devolved into a laughing shriek as their clothing suctioned to their skin, their hair dripping in their eyes, rivulets of cool, clear liquid running down their cheeks.  

The pool that he had jumped into was shaped like a circular basin, cut and carved by the force of the water spilling over the tiered rocks that brought the upper level of the stream to meet the level at the bank. It wasn’t rushing with extreme force now due to the dry harvest season, but once the rains came and filled the stream past its bursting point, the water would fall in relentless torrents that over centuries had created a deeper pocket in the streambed, an ephemeral pool that was currently deep enough for both of them to be submerged when he jumped, but still shallow enough for him to be able to touch the bottom. 

He set his feet down, thankful that the two of them had kicked their shoes off before sitting on the swing, both pairs still dry under the tree, and Clara wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms winding around his neck as his hands bolstered beneath the pockets of her denim shorts. Her eyes were still wide with shock, her lips wide in a laughing grin, and her sopping wet ponytail sprayed him with droplets as she shook her head. “Ezra! What are you- why did you do-” 

Before she could get a full question out, ripples started appearing on the surface of the water, a slow pattering sound accompanying them as rain started to fall, hitting the leaves of the crater-oak and plopping into the stream. “Well, it’s like you said,” he leaned in and used his tongue to collect a bead of water from in front of her ear, lips brushing her skin as she shivered and clutched him closer. “It was inevitable that we would end up water-logged one way or another.” 

He pulled back in time to see her breastbone sink, her breathing labored from his warm tongue on her damp skin, her light colored tank top nearly see through and plastered to her curves. Ezra had seen Clara come in from the rain. He’d seen her after a shower, Kevva, he’d seen her in the shower. He had seen her get wet when making adjustments to the irrigation system, or when he’d splashed her with soapy dishwater in the kitchen. But he had never seen this- the unexpected look in her eyes, the rush of excitement, the sheer absurdity of trying to avoid getting rained on and ending up in chest high water instead. You are the most ravishing woman in all of Kevva’s creation, Clara.

She laughed, pressing and rolling the curve of her forehead against his before replacing it with her lips. “Yes, but now our clothes are all-” 

Ezra took one of his hands away from where he held her to work its way between her shirt and her body, pulling upwards until his fist with the material bunched in it surfaced, and he peeled the soaked garment over her head. Making expert work of the clasp on her bra, he rid her of that, too. Before he returned his hand to the globe of her ass beneath the water, he let it trail down the valley of her chest, thumb and pinky grazing the inside curves of her breasts and pulling a breathy sound from her throat. “What was it you were saying about our clothes, Huckleberry?” 

He tilted his chin, cocking his head to one side as he switched hands beneath the water, bringing his other one between their bodies to the zipper of her shorts, yanking down as she stuck both of her hands under his shirt, running up the sides of his body as she followed his lead and rid him of his top. Flinging the olive green shirt that now looked black with how soaked it was onto the bank, Clara reached under the water to help him free her from the cutoffs she wore, their eyes meeting as their wet fingers bumped together in their hurry. 

“Just that we need to get them off, Ezra.” That clean, innocent light in her eyes that was filtering through the trees just moments ago was gone, replaced with a burning desire that the stream nor the rain could do anything to quell. “We need to get them off, right now.”

.

.

.

*taken from JSTOR:  Gathering flowers as a metaphor for timely enjoyment is a far gentler, more sensual image than the rather forceful and even violent concept of seizing the moment. It is not that as a culture we can’t understand what it means to harvest something when it’s ready—we do have related metaphors like “making hay while the sun shines,” after all. But there is something in the more Hollywood phrasing “seize the day” that has clearly resonated with people in the last thirty years. We understand the phrase to be, rather than encouraging a deep enjoyment of the present moment, compelling us to snatch at time and consume it before it’s gone, or before we’re gone.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags for this or any of my stories/characters, please feel free to let me know! :) 

Tags: @something-tofightfor​ @alraedesigns​ @pheedraws​ @shoopidly​ @fific7​ @valkblue​ @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan​ @cannedsoupsucks​ @tobealostwanderer​ @paracosmenthusiast​ @gracie7209​ @dihra-vesa​

[lucky-bucky-boy]

Cruel Summer Pt. III

Summary: Based loosely off of Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift. Things seem to be on a roller coaster, highs and lows and jumping emotions. A discussion about one of the pivotal points of their relationships that could either be the start of a new beginning or the awakening of a terrible ending.

Word Count: 1818

Warnings: Angst, fluff, manipulative-ish speech, very slight age gap, implied smut, almost ddlg elements but not quite (Please let me know if I missed anything, I will be happy to add on)

A/N: Tags are at the bottom. I am so sorry this took literally a lifetime to write and get out but its FINALLY HERE. Will be added to AO3 at some point. NO spoilers, takes place before the events of Knives out. Read Part One Here // Read Part Two Here

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs, likes, comments, and constructive criticism welcomed and highly appreciated.

Hummingbirds sang their beautiful song, fluttering through the evening sun. Wind bristling through the trees, the faint sound of wind chimes and a bird splashing in the bird bath. The outside air; light and warm, a breath of life and happiness. Almost taunting with how it didn't change from how it was left. 

It was a stark contrast to the nearly tangible heaviness that cast itself inside, sitting thick and awkward. The sound of a metal spoon clinking against glass nearly drowning out the sound of the help Ransom paid to stay and make dinner. The warmth of the cup of tea keeping thoughts from straying too far as tension begin to settle. 

Uncomfortable shifting in the dining chair, occasional, timid glances to the man next to you. Never had you ever seen him look so raw. His hair pushed back from running his hands through it so many times, instead of from the numerous products you knew he had stocked in his closet. The sweater he wore, albeit already worn, was so stretched out from him pulling on the cuffs that it naturally just rested against his palm. One hand fiddled with the fabric as he bit at his nails on the other. 

The last time he even looked remotely this nervous was after a few drinks when he showed you some writing he had done, something he hid but was proud of. And that was easily more than a year ago. But now, now was different. This almost looked like regret. 

After a quick sip of the warm liquid to calm your nerves, you cleared your throat, looking over at him. Ransom's gaze quickly snapped to focus in on you, waiting for you to speak.

"You asked me to stay, so what is it you could possibly want to talk about now?" You hadn't meant to sound so rude, but the exhaustion and irritability of the situation had settled heavily. You'd give anything to just have this over with, to be able to be alone and process everything. 

Ransom opened his mouth to speak, but closed it before letting out a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. "I just don't understand how we're somehow on the same page and not at the same damn time. Frankly, I don't understand how we were both there and you somehow… came out feeling like, like that about it, about me."

A scoff escaped from you, shaking your head and looking at him with utter bewilderment written on your face. "Ransom, you truly don't see how I could have fallen in love with you?" His only response was a look that was somewhere between confusion and certainty, as if he was confused as to how love was even an option. 

"Okay then," you took another sip of your tea before staring back at him, determined at this point to at least make him see it your way, if not to even hurt him a little. "Tell me, how do you remember our trip to Paris?"

He huffed out a chuckle that was void of amusement, eyebrows scrunched as he shrugged, "I don't know, it was about a month after I started fucking your brains out. Woke up one morning and told you to pack a bag, which you did because at that point you did whatever I said, and we flew to Paris in my private jet. We spent a week there, having sex and eating at fancy restaurants. I bought you a bunch of clothes and jewelry. Then we came home."

Your eyes had fallen shut, shaking your head and clicking your tongue as you opened them. He looked smug, but his attitude quickly changed when he saw the anger and disbelief pouring itself out of you. "That's truly how you remember that trip?"

He shrugged, "Yeah," his voice faltered softly as he continued, "How do you remember it?"

Some part of you begged not to open that door, not to go diving in to memories that would no doubt leave you even more hurt than before. 

Delicate touches and even softer sheets, a soft breeze rustling the sheer curtains that led to the balcony overlooking the city, intricate smells - a warming mixture of coffee, baked bread, and a touch of nicotine.

Everything about it screamed Paris, the city of romance, the city of love and adventure. The city that undoubtedly shifted the emotions that flowed. 

"I know you're awake, baby girl," your eyes hadn't even opened yet, a smile creeping on your lips as your skin warmed at the sound of the pet name. 

There was that low chuckle, the one the vibrated the chest your head rested on, that made you melt and float at the same time. The delicate touches, the soft swirls he drew on your back turned to a firm squeeze on your hip. "Get your sweet ass up, I'm taking you out." 

Ransom slid out from underneath you, soft whines leaving you in protest as you finally opened your eyes to look at him. You were met with his bare backside as he made his way to the bathroom. "I'm too sore to move," you called out with a pout. 

He stopped at the door way, looking over his shoulder at you, eyes dark and a shit eating grin on his face. "Well, I suggest if you want me to kiss it better, you better get your ass in the damn shower."

-

"Where are you taking me?" The words came out as a giggle as you clung onto Ransom's arm, blindfolded and letting him lead you to God only knows as. The ground beneath gradually became flat and smooth, unlike the walkways of the streets. 

"You're not selling me off, are you?" You teased.

Ransom chuckled and you could feel his body move as he shook his head. "No, sweetheart. You're worth much more than everything you're about to see. It'd be hard finding someone willing to pay that much."

He stopped moving, reaching up to slowly pull the blindfold off. "You used to talk about visiting art museums all across the world when we were little, so I figured this'd be a nice little treat."

You squealed softly and you took in your surroundings. You were standing in the middle of the Tuileries garden at the Louvre, beautiful sculptures and flora overwhelming your senses. "God! You really do spoil me," you look at him with a bright smile. "Come on, I'm dragging you through as much as possible before you decide it's time to leave."

He smirked and shook his head, "Well, we have reservations at 6 for a restaurant not too far from here. But other than that, the day is yours, princess."

"You're letting me decide what we do for a whole day?" You raised your eyebrows at him. 

"What can I say? I'm full of surprises," that cocky tone was something you were coming to love more than tolerate, "Lead the way."

-

It was no wonder Ransom made you wear a nicer dress that day, insisting on you putting a little more effort into your appearance than usual. He never asked for anything like that. You found it odd earlier that morning as you smeared his favorite red lipstick across your lips, but as you stood outside the restaurant where meals cost easily as much as your phone bill, you understood. 

A balcony seat with a view overlooking the city. The sun was just starting to set, spreading hues of pink, purple, and gold in the sky as the lights from the Eiffel Tower could be seen glowing in the distance. People were still bustling in the streets, couples hand in hand, kids running and laughing, the occasional Parisian leaning against the stone building with a cigarette. It hit you then that there was no one else you'd want to be in Paris with. 

Already, Ransom had pulled your seat out for you and pushed you in, ordered your drinks and food for you, and as you looked back at him you caught him staring. For just a split second there was something more to the look on his face, a glisten in his eyes you'd never seen before. But, just as soon as you saw it, it was gone. A smirk spread across his lips, his eyes set back to their normal hue and you wanted nothing more than to smack it off his face. 

Not because he was being an asshole or because he was right about something (and knew damn well you were wrong), but because you knew this time that smirk was hiding something. But the time to pester and whine was neither here nor there when you were surrounded by riches, lavished in the luxury that was Paris, the upscale restaurant, and the company of Ransom. 

-

The cool metal of the railing nipped through the material of your shirt as you overlooked the now dark city from the comfort of your hotel room. A few glasses of wine you normally wouldn't drink, a shared cigarette you didn't quite like but did anyway because "it's a part of the experience"; and quite honestly, Ransom could get you to try anything at least once. 

The padding of his bare feet across the floor and onto the patio pulled you out of the replay the was looping in your head. The soft smiles, the feeling of his hand in your, the laughter and warmth that filled your chest all day quickly being pushed to the side as he reached his arms around you, quicker than you could turn around. 

Ransom clasped a necklace around your neck and when you looked down to examine it your heart swelled. A dainty, chain with a nice size diamond laid against your skin. If you didn't know any better your say it resembled a heart but… maybe that was just wishful thanking. 

"Ransom, you didn't have to ge-"

"I wanted to," he quickly cut you off, "And be a good girl for me and don't ever take it off." He looked at you expectantly as you looked back at him, eyes glossy and a slight pout to your lip as emotions overwhelmed you. "Promise?"

"Promise."

Reaching into your bag you pulled something out. Without even looking at it you tossed it at him, annoyance and hurt written on your face as you both watched the diamond necklace skitter toward him and stop by his hand that rested on on the table. 

You watched as Ransom picked it up, swallowing hard and jaw setting as he examined the piece of jewelry. A sigh and shake of his head as he eyes fell to the little "H" he had engraved on the backside of it. 

You smirked, huffing and biting the inner corner of your cheek before speaking, "Go ahead and tell me again how this was just an arrangement."

Taglis (cross through means you were unable to be tgged)   @sweetlittlegingy @star-spangled-steve @jessiejunebug @fresa-luna @thegirlwithpaperheart @jesaigne @introvertedmouse @sinner-as-saint @sp2900 @qrndevans @dammitcaswhy @livsheph @darcia22 @paranjaperiyauniverse @dramaticsassmaster @rose-k @lovemesomeavengers @steeeeverogers @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @bemysugarbean @dreamlesswonder86 @ambrosixx @heyiamthatbitch @daazzeey, @fresa-luna @bitchcraftandwitchery @thatoneslytherinbeater @breezyfreezey @quesadellacatburglar @renxzs @imsonick @sambucky8 @honeybabybubba @lover1307 @marvelismysafezone @bxby-kittxn @nibbles7192 @21stcenturywitchcraft @ssworldofsw @im-married-to-chris-evans

[frodos-bizarre-adventure]

@gingerreggg thanks for the appreciation! TnT

Heads Up- Part 14 (Joseph x Bust! Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

"Is that necessary?" Suzi complained, as Joseph placed a motion sensor on the table next to Caesar. "And where did you get that, even?"

Joseph grinned his characteristic smirk. "It's to keep the neighborhood kids from messing with my bike. I have to leave it outside cause I don't have a garage..."

"You sure are prepared for everything, Jojo!" she giggled.

Joseph always had the knack for expecting the unexpected, ever since they were kids. Perhaps that could partly explain why Joseph got used to having a talking art project so quickly. How he made it look so normal.

"Okay, Caesar. We're gonna have to get you to not move, not one twitch!" Joseph instructed him. "If you move even the slightest bit, this alarm goes off."

Caesar blinked, and the sensor immediately began to beep.

"Sorry bout that," Caesar apologized.

"You don't need to blink, don't you?" Joseph asked as he reset the sensor.

"It's a force of habit!" Caesar said defensively. "I know I don't even have any tear ducts but it's a reflex! Maybe Anthonio used to blink!"

"Of course he did, he was human," Suzi said.

It struck Joseph as odd that Caesar referred to Anthonio as someone else.

Did he not consider himself Anthonio? Or at least, not anymore? Suzi did, after all, say Caesar was less of a ghost, and more of a reincarnation. Maybe he'd found a new identity.

Maybe he'd found a new purpose.

The entire situation intrigued Joseph. "Say, Suzi, about those Mesoamerican lore of yours..." he asked, "How exactly do those 'spirit guardians' work?"

Suzi laughed. "You're really curious about all this, aren't you?"

Joseph shrugged. "I suppose."

"Hmm. Well, it says here in these old texts, that most spirit guardians were ancestors that returned to the mortal plane, when summoned by those in need, to act as a guardian angel of sorts."

"Heh! Guardian angel you say?" scoffed Caesar. "I'm just a goddamn head."

Suzi shot him an annoyed look and continued on. "Anyway, it's said that these new beings were usually a 'predescessor' of some way. Not necessarily by blood, per se, but by legacy-- say, a warrior could summon a spirit of a warrior before them, or a scientist that of an old philosopher..."

"...and I suppose Anthonio was a sculptor who sought to carry on his legacy in you."

"Then why don't I remember being Anthonio, then?" Caesar retorted.

"Because, Caesar," Suzi said, "the wisdom of the past is tainted with the memories, the identities of those who experience them. I can never be too sure, of course," she shrugged, "but I feel it's made that way to pass on their wisdom to a new worthy successor to their legacy-- yet from a whole new perspective unclouded by their own beliefs. So that Joseph's art would be inspired by Anthonio's, but still be Joseph's own."

Joseph laughed at the irony. "Like how I copied...er, based, Caesar's face off on the statue Anthonio made...which he'd actually based on his own face."

Destiny sometimes did strange twists to absurd results.

"Alright, let's do this one more time!" Joseph said, replacing the motion sensor.

--------

Day by day Caesar practiced standing still. Trying to look like a perfectly ordinary, non-living sculpture. Trying not to blink, or move reflexively, just staring vacantly into nothingness like the lifeless figure he originally was.

It helped that Caesar's eyes never felt dry, even without blinking, they were clay, after all. It didn't hurt, or feel very uncomfortable, but it did make him nervous.

But he fought said feelings, because he knew it was all for Joseph.

He was doing it for the person he loved the most. After all the things Joseph had done to make his life a happy one, this was the best way for Caesar to pay him back.

By serving his original purpose as Joseph's grand masterpiece.

And it was enough to motivate him to try his damned hardest.

"And that's eight hours!" Joseph exclaimed, checking his stopwatch. Caesar had managed to keep still without triggering the beeping of the motion sensor for a record period of time.

"You can relax now, Caesar. Eight hours is all we need."

Caesar blinked and sighed.

"See, you could do it!" Joseph encouraged. "Eight hours each day for two days. Enough for the gallery to hold you on exhibit, and have the judges grade you. And then, hopefully, I graduate and get to have you back."

"You promise?" Caesar asked, in almost a pleading tone.

"I'll try my hardest to get you back," Joseph told him, his mind lingering on the faint possibility that Caesar might be selected for permanent display.

Joseph used to want to make a sculpture so exquisitely defined that it would be put up there in the gallery, alongside those of the greatest artists, forever. How strange that he now wanted the opposite.

He'd made Caesar far too beautiful, and because of this he risked losing him.

"Say, about that thing you said earlier?" Suzi told Joseph. "You based him off an old sculpture by Anthonio, didn't you?"

"I mean, it wasn't a painted statue, so I doubt they'd see the similarities with Caesar all colored and all." Joseph added with his usual mischievous grin.

"Still, he does look a little plain," Suzi pondered, as she looked at the bust from different angles. "We ought to spice him up a little!"

"Oh great," Caesar complained. "More dress-ups."

Suzi pulled out a handful of ribbons, scarves and other accessories and began trying out a bunch of styles to make Caesar look more striking-- and hopefully disguise him from anyone who would suspect Joseph stole the design.

A bowler hat, necktie and a monocle. "This is stupid," Caesar grumbled.

A masquerade feather headdress and a colorful bead necklace. "Hell no," complained Caesar again.

A magenta beanie hat, heart sunglasses and a short shawl. "Are you kidding me?" Caesar cried irately.

But there was one set of gear that made an impact on Caesar, when Suzi put them on.

A headband, designed with a zigzagged line between orange and violet, with a pair of prominent white feathers on each of the temples, and a soft, pink scarf to complete the look.

Caesar opened his mouth to complain, and quickly shut it again as soon as he saw his reflection.

He...actually kind of liked this one.

"Say, that actually suits you well," Joseph said.

"I think so too," Caesar smiled, pivoting slightly on his neck base to see his reflection from another angle.

"So it's settled then?" Joseph asked. "You'll be wearing that to the exhibit?"

"Sure," Caesar agreed. "Anything that won't make you look like a ripoff."

Joseph smiled. He admired Caesar's getup: with the scarf and the headband, he looked positively divine. He looked lovelier than he'd ever had.

He knew that the judges would absolutely like him.

He just hoped they wouldn't like him enough to take him away.

-------

It wasn't long before the day of the exhibit, of Joseph's graduation, was close at hand.

Sleep came little to the troubled artist, as he lay on his bed, his eyes blankly fixed onto the ceiling. The room's only light came from a harsh, white table lamp.

It was three days, before he had to prove himself to the world.

To his mother, Professor Lisa, that he was worthy of her respect.

And to the legacy of his late grandfather, Jonathan, who had been his inspiration, as a child, to become an artist in the first place.

Joseph imagined his grandfather watching him from the stars, invisible but ever present. If only he could see him now. If only he could tell what he'd have thought of him.

His mind drifted back to Suzi's quote, about the spirit guardians being the souls of those who came before. To pass on their legacy.

He couldn't help but imagine. What if Grandpa Jonathan himself had possessed his project bust? He giggled at the thought of his beloved grandpa as a talking, bouncing clay sculpture.

But yet fate seemed to have chose Anthonio Zeppeli to be his guide.

There must have been something special about him that he needed to pass on.

Or maybe, it was just Anthonio himself being perfect for him. Strange that they had to meet in such an improbable way.

He was different now, reborn as another person entirely. Another person that Joseph adored the way he was. Body or no body.

Thinking about Caesar made Joseph's heart thump hard within his chest. Why did he feel this way? To a figure he created? Was it weird? Was it wrong?

And yet as he listened to the steady drum of his own heartbeat, he decided that no, it seemed like nothing felt more right. Caesar was his.

It was then Joseph realized that the steady thumps were getting louder. He first feared there was, perhaps, something wrong with his cardiac rhythm. But then he felt there was another source, that seemed to be coming from outside.

And as Joseph turned his head to look, right on cue, Caesar came bouncing into his room.

In the dim light, Joseph marveled at his bizarre, surreal beauty as he hopped across the floor, still clad in the headband and the scarf that he'd come to enjoy wearing.

Somehow, as ridiculous, slow and clumsy as his only mode of transportation was, Caesar looked oddly majestic.

The vigor and strength with which he pushed his neck against the floor with each hop. The gracefulness as his head turned upward at the highest point of each jump, his headband's feathers fluttering almost like tiny wings. The way his torso stump flexed as it barely cleared the floor with each little forward bounce. And of course, the sheer look of focused determination displayed on Caesar's face as he made his way toward the bed.

He was scarcely even half a man, but his spirit had the strength of many.

To even move his clay form along the distance from kitchen to bedroom took considerable effort, without the aid of arms and legs. And yet Caesar made it work. Caesar made the impossible possible. In spite of his tremendous handicap, he learned to persevere, to overcome.

And maybe Joseph realized why he admired Caesar so much.

Not just with his gorgeous, colorful clay exterior, but with the soul within, burning so bright with passion and determination, despite all odds that barred his way.

Perhaps this was why they were fated to meet.

"Jojo, you awake?" Caesar said, snapping Joseph out of his admiring stupor.

"Huh, yeah, I am now," Joseph mumbled. "What's the matter?"

Caesar looked downward, sadly. "I just feel lonely."

"And next you'll say, 'Can I sleep on your bed tonight, Jojo?' huh?" Joseph smirked.

"Can I sleep on your bed tonight, Jo--" Caesar began to say, before realizing it. "Huh? How did you know--?"

Joseph laughed warmly. "You don't even need to say it, Cae. You're always welcome with me. Anytime."

Gently, he lifted the bust up from the floor. By now, his heavy weight now felt familiar and no longer burdensome. He gently laid Caesar onto the pillow next to him, and, removing his scarf and headband and placing them onto his bedside table, lovingly laid a blanket over Caesar's stubby torso.

With his body, or lack thereof, covered by a quilt, Caesar looked less like a sculpture and more like Joseph's very own, perfectly typical roommate.

Joseph laid back down onto the bed, gently embracing what little body Caesar had, warmly and tenderly underneath the covers.

"Goodnight, Caesar," he said, resting his head against Caesar's soft, warm clay body.

"Goodnight too, Jojo," he responded, as he closed his eyes for the night.

Artist and artwork fondly embraced, within the dimly lit room without anyone else to witness. Suzi was at her home today. It was just him and Caesar, together alone, gently feeling each other's gentle warmth in a fleeting yet sincere moment, as rest soon enveloped their tired minds.

A fleeting yet sincere moment that Joseph wasn't sure he'd get to have again.

--------

(Previous Chapter)

(Next Chapter)

[epic-sorcerer]

(Okay so for those of y’all who are like me and sensitive to people talking bad about stuff they like/general negativity, I’d advise scrolling away. I’ll be talking about a bad experience at Dairy Queen, as I am a sheltered kid of a Heath coach and sensitive to sugar. Do I like the food? No. Do I dislike the people who like the food? Also no. I’m glad people can enjoy something at such a low price. /gen)

If you like this chain, that’s cool. I have found memories of once eating fair Queen when I was really young. Once a vanilla ice cream and once chicken fingers and fries. Honestly I mgiht try the chicken again

However.

I saw a commercial aboht this chocolate chip cookie doe blizzard and I was like “cool” and went on with my life. Days past, it is now the present. It’s a hot day and I wanted ice cream and I was like “:0 what about taht Dairy Queen thing!!”

So I convinced my Heath coach mom to drive us to Dairy Queen. She got a brownie ice cream thing, I got the blizzard. She also needed to get what ever by bio father asked for and bring it. I forgot what that was Bc he ended up having to choose something else bc the machine that made the original thing he wanted what broken.

He chose a chocolate shake and the guy took so long to make it. When mom got to the car where I was the blizzard had melted and I couldn’t do taht upside down thing. Secondly, they don’t have a lid that fits the blizzard cup. They instead have a big lid that balences on top the cup like a comically large hat

On the way home, as the blizzard melted, it started to drip onto my cupholder. Who ever decided aesthetic of a no-lid cup was cool can lick the inside of my cup holder. It’s so sticky. I understand they wanted it to look overflowing with stuff, but it’s not worth it.

Also. The taste.

BORING. UNINSPIRED. Every bite was the same and worse than the last, because my body steadily reacted worse and worse to the discusting amount of sugar. To cover this up, I put some Nutella in it and it was the only thing to make it tasteful. Bc it would otherwise, forlack of a better word, plastic ice cream.

I love everything cookie doe, but every thing jsut felt stale and boring. Like if a beisnuss man with his boring ass briefcase and suit was blended up with the fucking cookie doe. Ugh. It’s like hwat would happen if pretzels had normal salt instead of the big salt. The do it for a reason, it keeps each bite interesting and different.

This blizzard tasted like cookie flavored dry wall, exept it didn’t have the crunchy texture. Honestly, the texture wasn’t that bad really. The only decent part Tbh. I liked that they had cookie doe pellits and skinny chocolate chip squares. That was really the only good thing about it and even then it was okay.

Something about Dairy Queen is so bland, corporate, and safe. The ice cream version of McDonald’s. This “flavor” tastes like the sheer generic-ness of modern graphic design. The corporate artstyle.

Mom had this brownie ice cream thing. She said the brownie bits felt like dog treat pellets and she kept chewing and chewing but it never got destroyed.

We both had the awful feeling of the neutrition-less sludge settling inside our bodies. It felt awful, it almost hurt. To compensate, I ate a foot long, raw carrot but I still feel awful. It felt like I ate from burger lord from good omens.

At least with family owned ice cream, you can feel the love in it. One near where I live is simply named after a popular first name for a person. You get the feeling taht the person really exists and has a passion for ice cream. But I do not know who this Diary Queen is, it just sounds like a worse Freddy murcury. Like he ate cheese right before a show and his voice is suffering from not obeying the Singers Diet.

Even cold stone creamery is much better. Even if it is a big chain, there is still heart. There is emphasis and love for the employees’ ice cream mixing talents. They put on a show like mild habatchi and we watch in awe as they make our treat in font of us with such skill. Idk hwo well the cold stone employees are treated, but still. To the average customer, there is much more emphasis and appreciation aboht them compared to Dairy Queen

The guy at Dairy Queen took like way too long to make a fucking milkshake. I’m not blaming the guy, I’m Blaiming the company. I’m blaming whoever contributed to someone struggling with making a milkshake. Because that is not a happy or maybe even well trained employee.

By the way, it apparently tasted awful and watery, despite the fact the best part of the shake is the ice cream. Dairy Queen centers on ice cream. How did they fuck this up?

Anyways. I still feel sick. We all do. I did have fun complaining though. It’s nice that Dairy Queen puts “(treat)” after their name and almost everything they sell, implying they are a sometimes food. However, I feel they are more of a once a life time food. I dotn think I will ever buy from them again.

I feel the onyl reason my past memories were fond were bc of the context. The first one was when me and my family back in elementary school were driving a long way to a vacation spot and we stopped at a Dairy Queen that makes savory meals. I had fun bc I was exited for the vacation, the food itself was mediocre and cheap but I didn’t care.

The second time was also in elementary, I went to a Dairy Queen with a friend and her family and had lots of fun with them on a hot day. It’s the experience I was remembering, not the taste.

At least when you pay for stuff like fairs and festivals, the horrible conditions are worth it. Yes, you have to use portapottys, yes you have to be in close proximity to way too much peopel, but you are paying directly for a positive experience.

With Dairy Queen you are paying for an “edible”supstance and it is your choise if you also want to have fun.

[ymiwritesstuff]

Decaying Promise

So I replayed Three Houses and fell in love with Dimitri once again so I wanted to write this piece. I haven’t been feeling well lately and the lack of sleep may affect this scenario, apologies for that, but I hope you enjoy.

Fire Emblem Three Houses

Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd x Fem!Reader

Summary: A promise made years ago keeps Dimitri somewhat hopeful, despite the screams of his loved ones tormenting him internally.

Notes: Angst, SPOILERS FOR THE BLUE LIONS ROUTE!!

The greenhouse of the monastery bathed in the afternoon sun, the plants and flowers enjoying the blessing they received while surrounded by the light. You found yourself enjoying the warmth the sun provided as you kneeled in front of a certain flower, having just arrived in the greenhouse. Your (E/C) eyes lit up in sheer amazement as you notice that the beautiful white flower in front of you is blooming, having completed its growing process. 

You bring your fingers to the petals, desiring to feel the velvety surface and take in the flower’s delicacy. It practically glittered under the light of the sun and just like you had read, it had a stunning iridescent glow that made it look as if someone had put a spell on it.

“That’s quite beautiful.”

The voice beside you belonged to a person you didn’t even hear or notice coming, which caused you to quickly turn your head towards them, only to notice the Prince himself, carefully looking at the flower you had picked up.

“Dimitri!” You exclaim, placing a hand on your chest and standing up, slightly startled at his sudden appearance. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like this!” Despite your words being anything but rude in nature, the young Prince’s eyes still receive an apologetic glint as he humbly bows. Polite as always. “My apologies. It was not my intention. I simply saw you running here quite enthusiastically and curiosity got the best of me.”

You look at the flower in your and bring it up, desiring to show Dimitri its beauty. “Oh, I was just checking if this flower started to bloom. And as you can see,” You bring your hand closer to him, in order for him to witness the sight before him. “It’s blooming rather beautifully.” A gentle smile decorates your features and a sense of pride latches itself onto you. Usually, gardening was done by more capable people like Dedue and the Professor, and you didn’t have too much experience in the craft, so it was very rewarding to see this special flower bloom under the rays of the sun.

“I must agree, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a flower like this.” Dimitri’s blue eyes carefully examine the plant before him, intrigued by its abnormal appearance and seemingly otherworldly exterior qualities. Though he’d rather not hold flowers in his own hand, fearing they would just fall apart due to his inability to control his own strength, he appreciated their bloom and was more than happy to look at them.

“It’s called Sothis’s Lily. It is said that it was the first flower the Goddess created. Well, according to some legend I don’t know much about.” Stories about the Goddess didn’t grasp your interest too much, as to you they seemed quite silly at times. Still, you couldn’t deny the fact that the flower currently in your hand looked resplendent and special. 

“I see. Well, it certainly looks extraordinary. It wouldn’t surprise me too much if there was some divine power embedded in it,” He says, a slight hint of playfulness and rare sarcasm you didn’t often hear apparent in his pleasant voice. A small chuckle escapes your lips.

“Perhaps. All I can say for sure is that this particular flower is excruciatingly difficult to grow. It’s a miracle we’re even witnessing it in this state!” Having read about this rare flora, you knew the challenges of attempting to grow it the moment you placed the seeds beneath the dirt, and seeing it in front of you, in full bloom, made you happier than ever.

“However apparently, this flower can stay in this prime state for at least five years! Can you believe it?” Dimitri’s eyes widen slightly at your words, a mixture of shock and amazement hitting him. It was no surprise to anyone that flowers generally withered away in a matter of days, so if this supposed rumor was to be true, this lily was truly special.

“Is that so? That is quite impressive, (Name),” He states, gentle smile dancing across his lips. He found your enthusiasm quite amusing, yet oddly admirable. Due to the recent, some quite grim, events at the monastery, the atmosphere had been quite dull and colorless, so seeing someone with this much happiness in them was uplifting for the young Prince.

“Five years is a long time for a flower, but not so much for us. A lot of things can change in such a short amount of time.” With Dimitri’s words comes a breeze of uncertainty and mystery that hits both of you like the cold winds of Faerghus. It was true that no one but perhaps the Goddess herself knows what the future holds and admittedly the thought scared you. There were things that people assumed would happen naturally, like Dimitri becoming the King of the Holy Kingdom, but in the end, even those things weren’t certain.

“We might not see any of our classmates after we leave the Officer’s Academy.”

“You’re right.” Your gaze falls on the ground for a moment as the weight of the ambiguity slowly presses itself against you. You look at Dimitri, your dearest friend, and wonder what the flow of time brings and how it would affect your strong yet so easily breakable relationship. “However, we won’t change.” Dimitri blinks a couple of times, waiting for you to continue your words of determination.

“You know what?” You suddenly say and point at the flower still in your hand with your eyes. “I’m going to keep this flower. No matter what the future holds, we’ll see each other after we graduate. Think of this lily as me. So long as it blooms, I’ll be around and ready to meet you again. And remember, this beauty blooms for a very long time.” A reassuring smile widens the corners of your lips, a playful shimmer glistening in your eyes and fortunately, you notice Dimitri smiling as well.

Your words are rather silly, and you don’t expect him to take them to heart as you are more than certain you will see the man in front of you before the flower has time to even think about withering. However, by then, he is most likely the King of Faerghus and buried in royal duties.

“Sounds like you’re proposing we make a deal.” He chuckles briefly. “Very well then. Let’s promise to reunite after graduation.” Your smile widens at that and you nod, eyes brimming with determination and hope.

“It’s a deal.”

~

The aftermath of the battle was like any other. Enemy soldiers on the ground, laying on top of a pool of blood, the Kingdom troops exhausted but satisfied with the victory. Just like they had been told, (Surname) territory had been taken over by Imperial forces with no challenge. No one was defending the territory during the five years the war had been going on and with a fraction of the Imperial army vanished, the Kingdom Army had reclaimed yet another part of their nation. However, this victory meant little for the King.

When you weren’t present at the highly grim class reunion, Dimitri knew something was amiss. His already unhinged mental state sunk deeper into the dangerous abyss that was his mind and his new obsession, other than killing Edelgard, was finding the very person he had made a crucial deal with all those years ago. 

The (Surname) territory was undefended, empty, no signs of the members of the family anywhere; In the perfect state for an invasion and now that the Imperial soldiers had been disposed of, the atmosphere should have been better, but it wasn’t.

Dimitri searched and searched, looking for the one he cherished, desperately trying to find any evidence of your whereabouts, all the while the merciless demons within him screamed at him. He tried to ignore them, because finding you was the only thing that mattered in this very moment, however at the same time he was afraid. Afraid that he would suddenly hear your voice in his head.

“There’s no sign of her, Your Highness.” A kingdom knight said to him, having searched the entire area and returning to his King with a sorrowful look upon his face

“Keep searching!” He said, voice filled with anger, impatience, and underlying sadness and hopelessness. With heavy steps, he headed towards the manor where the noble family would spend most of their days in, a place Dimitri himself had been in many times before. Before his mind hungered for revenge.

He had to find you, his mind let go of his desire to avenge his family for this brief moment as his vision was clouded. The last bits of his sanity he didn’t notice were hanging onto him, dependent on your reunion. The broken man stepped into the manor, heading straight for his beloved’s room and ignoring the concerned Professor most likely following him.

Despite saying to himself he wanted to see your face once more, in reality, the thought scared him. Should he find you in this mansion of yours, you would most likely be but a decaying corpse, and even more than not finding you, he was terrified of seeing you in front of him with no life left in you. He tried to push the thought away, but it was stabbing him, burying its knife into him deeper than any other. He was in pain, and the screams were getting louder the closer he got to your room.

The door opened with hesitation, an overwhelming anxiety rampaging all around Dimitri and inside him as he stepped in, expecting and also secretly hoping to find an empty, lifeless room that was nothing but a decaying memory of his childhood. His mind was a mess, much like it had been for the past five years but the desperate desire to see you and you wonderful smile with his now dull blue eyes kept him partially sane. It gave him hope. But that hope was reduced to dust and blown away the moment he looked around the room. Because what he saw, was far worse than the sight of your corpse. Because what lied in front of him, on the cold floor, wasn’t a corpse at all.

The thing that completely broke him, surrounded by the grueling silence that was only broken by his desperate, painful sobs,

Was a certain, white lily, withered away.

[werifestaria]

Hi I love your blog layout it so tidy!! Also would it be alright if I got a bnha matchup please?. My pronouns are she/her and I'm bisexual. My personality type is ISTJ, I'm a sagittarius sun, scorpio moon and libra rising. To the public I'm pretty closed off/reserved but with my friends I'm brave, loyal and love to laugh. I don't trust easily and I'm pretty cautious of everyone so I try to keep out of the way.

My hobbies include gymnastics which I did competitively and won a few medals, I also do figure skating and have leveled up pretty quickly at that. I workout everyday because even though I dont compete now I still want to improve and if anything I'm better now than I was back then.

I like indie music, horror movies mainly psychological, nature and wildlife and the peace and quiet it brings. I hate loud, busy places, untidy, dirty things and people messing up my routine.

My love language is quality time like I just wanna be around that person a lot. I think the love language that speaks to me most is probably also quality time, like the fact that they would want to be around me willingly seems so unfamiliar I love the idea of it. Also words of affirmation or physical touch, I'm awkward at giving those but receiving them would make me melt cause I'm not really used to any of it. My ideal dates are simple things like going on walks at like 3am or dancing in the livingroom or movie nights just cheap simple things like that.

hope that's okay sorry it kindof long :)

𝐦𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐚

Thank you so much for one of our first requests! We appreciate your love for the layout as well!! Tbh, I spent multiple hours straight getting it just right, so it’s a relief people find it pretty- and also, Scorpio moon gang! anyways, I hope you enjoy your matchup from me! Have a lovely day, hun

𝐦𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 . . .

𝐞𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚 !

runner-up : hanta sero

Easily, Kirishima is one of BNHA’s most easygoing, compassionate characters. His heart is big and always in the right place. Based off of your description and his own array of traits, I think he is the perfect character for you! Like, almost a little too perfect. A Sagittarius and a Libra (Kirishima’s sun sign!) are said to be very compatible and harmonious. Even better, it’s also said that people are often drawn to others who have their sun sign in the ascendant—Kirishima being a Libra sun and you being a Libra rising! To make things even more fantastic, perfect, and everything in between, Kirishima’s MBTI (according to The Personality Database) is ESFP. Guess what? ISTJ’s and ESFP’s are said to be extremely compatible! Of course, he’d find your inner demeanor to be extremely attractive. As he is naturally social, he wouldn’t mind your reserved nature and would pursue you in both friendship & romance regardless. Your outer shell would only lead him to appreciate your comical inner-self even more! He’d greatly admire your bravery and loyalty as well—it’s not something you see often anymore, after all. He’d try to bring the best out of you as naturally as possible, letting you do the same to him. Easily, he’s the most supportive boyfriend you could ever get! This man would adore you with patience, admiration, and sheer love, all with his own cheesy, dorky flair. I imagine Kirishima is careful in love, yet just as bold as the sun. He’s grounded, but on his most passionate days, his admiration can never be paralleled. You’d simply make him weak in the knees with every glance you’d spare him!

𖥸 Your music taste simply infects him. Imagine him listening to indie music with you 🥺🥺 your head in his lap as he plays with your hair- omg!! he loves to just sit and vibe with you. Nothing can compare to the fun you have on your chilliest days- he loves spending time with you in little ways like that

𖥸 Workout dates!! He’s infatuated with you for many reasons, but one of them is because you work out. The dude literally thinks it’s the coolest thing in the world and he adores working out with you. It’s easily his kryptonite lol

𖥸 Kiri has no concept of grace, so he is extremely impressed with your gymnastics and figure skating skills!! He could watch you do your thing for hours tbh. Like, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. In fact, I think he’d try to incorporate more nimbleness to his moves even though such a feat is kinda difficult when you can turn into rock. You gotta give him some credit tho- we all know he can be a little too opportunistic!! Just imagine him tripping all over himself because he wants to be nimble like you- that little blush on his face as he apologies for being a dummy- aww 💕💕

𖥸 Simply the king of casual dates. Sure, he’d love to spoil you with the stars and more, but he knows you like it calm- fr, you two are actually the cutest when it comes to staying up late and just messing around with no care in the world 💕 also, nature dates? Small picnics in the park?? I bet he’d love to go hiking with you. He likes to point out cool flowers or pretty weeds whenever you two are outside for even the shortest amount of time

𖥸 He loves watching horror movies with you.. even though they scare him a little bit LMAO- but just cuddling with you as your favorite movie plays in the background is simply heaven to him. Maybe you can turn him into a psychological horror buff!!

𖥸 He is also the king of words of affirmation~ the dude loves to remind you about how much you mean to him and how confident you make him feel within himself

You two really are couple goals imo 💕💕💕

𝐦𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡

Gahhh!! I was so excited to ship you with someone!! Thank you so much for requesting!! Also! Don’t worry about long bios in your matchup requests! The longer they are the more mod Ara and I can assess who’s best for you! Its definitely preferable. I hope you enjoy who I match you with. ^w^

𝐦𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 . . .

⠀

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐨 !

runner-up : hanta sero

In my opinion, I feel that Mina is the perfect match for you!! First lets get some compatible basics out of the way. Like our good friend Kirishima above, Minas MBTI is also an ESFP (according to the personality database lol). As we know, ESFPs tend to be the most compatible with ISTJs. To add onto that, Mina just so happens to be a Leo!! Leos and Sagittarius's are often compared to soulmates and having a twin flame like connection! It’s a little scary how well you two fit each other, personality dynamics and all. Though you may have been cautious and quiet at first meet, Mina most likely pestered and wiggled her way into your life! She loves making new friends anyhow, and saw no issue in going out of her way to talk to you every chance she could. Now becoming your girlfriend later on would just be an added bonus for her! You better believe she finds your bravery admirable, it drives right up her alley. The two of you would make an absolute power couple, even a fan favorite!! Often, she’d make jokes or even play along with ones that you make in return, just to be able to hear your laughter. It fills her stomach with butterflies and she’s near falling apart at the seams with every melodic giggle. Get ready to be showered in compliments and praise, that’s this girls specialty, and she’d happily fluster you any day with her sickeningly sweet words. 

𖥸 Mina would probably ask you to spar with her a lot. Practicing new moves and quirk related techniques. God knows she loves staying active, and doing something she deems this fun with someone she loves. It makes the moment even more worth while. With your experience in gymnastics, you’d find that you’re able to run circles around this girl with your skill. Afterwards she’d probably offer a massage to ease any sore muscles. 

𖥸 Now as much as Mina would probably prefer a night on the town as a date, she would not think twice about choosing a secluded casual option for your comforts sake. Be that stargazing or even staying in to watch one of those horror films  that you love oh so much over popcorn and sodas. (She’s actually terrified of them, and has a weak stomach, but she’d never tell you that.) 

𖥸 Aimless car drives. Picture the sun setting, painting the sky in a soft pink and an orange hue flickering off of the distant buildings. Your preferred indie song blaring through the speaker while the two of you belt out the lyrics. Neither of you can hear each other over the sound of the wind rolling in through open windows, or how high she cranked the volume. You’ll definitely have to be the one to turn it back down, she can’t help but love loud music, even if the music wasn’t intended to be loud in the first place lol. 

𖥸 Don’t be surprised if she comes to you one day with a gift bag in hand. Every time she goes into a store she has to come out with something that reminds her of you. She’s not even aware of it either until you point it out. This could range from something as simple as your favorite drink to a giant teddy bear that she claimed resembled you. The possibilities are endless. 

𖥸 My word is she in love, infatuated even. That one night she caught you dancing about in the kitchen, probably making a late night snack, she couldn’t look away. In fact, she still thinks about it from time to time. How happy and carefree you looked lip-syncing the lyrics, in the silliest kinds of pjs you owned. She tried to sneak her way in, trying her best to not to make you jump in surprise, though she probably failed with how eager she actually zoomed in. Her love for dancing couldn’t go unnoticed here, oh no, not now. She brought you in close with a twirl under her arm, her smile the widest you’ve seen it. Her flirty nature, only for you, had her compliments laced with sugar and honey. Who knows how long the two of you spent dancing and goofing off to your playlist in that darned kitchen. 

Gosh the two of you make me squeal!! There’s absolutely no way you aren’t made for each other!  

𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐠𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭-𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 !

[firewoodfigs]

(long post, but I’m gonna try and make journalling a thing in 2021 😆)

The first day of the new year was nice. :) I woke up to the sounds of rain crashing against my windowsills - a strangely chilly morning in this tropical country where it’s summer all year round. For a moment it felt like I was back in Canada again, all cloudy grey skies and whimsical rain - the perfect weather for introspection. 

I started my day with a pot of hot green tea, then settled down by my reading lamp to finish a book that I’ve been putting off for far too long - Steinbeck’s East of Eden. I only had about forty pages left, but somehow couldn’t bring myself to finish it. I hate when books end because it feels like that little world I’ve created and compartmentalised in my head has likewise ceased, but the good thing about books is that you can always re-read them and immerse yourself in the same fantasy. (Maybe even a different one, if the same words lend themselves to a different interpretation!) But it truly was an absolute masterpiece: such a stunning, intricate exploration of humanity that tugged at my heartstrings and led me into still waters of reflection. I know that I will definitely carry this tale in my heart for a long, long time to come. 

Afterwards, I had some instant ramen while watching The Queen’s Gambit. I’m not a big fan of watching shows usually because I often feel like they move too slowly or tend to miss details from the book, but this one is pretty exceptional. Like, the acting and the artistic direction are incredible - the constant juxtaposition between Beth’s traumatic past and her glorified present, and the exploration of the fallibility of genius were executed so brilliantly. Another thing that really stood out to me were the scenes where she’d hole herself in the toilet and rebuke herself aloud for weaknesses in her play and/or being weak, in general. I cannot begin to explain how many times I’ve done that to myself in law school for even the most trivial of infractions, the most minor of errors - Lord knows I’m my harshest critic. 

I promised to try, however, to be a little bit kinder to myself in 2021. My perfectionism tends to be a bar to goodness and growth because sometimes I get so afraid that my subconscious keeps demanding that my first draft has to be perfect. But it really doesn’t. That’s what editing is for. And writing, like any other talents and passions, requires nurturing and constant practice. I saw a quote yesterday about how we cannot just sit around and magically expect to be Faulkners overnight, and that is so true. I definitely need to find a sweet spot where I’m not berating myself to the point of giving up, but still demand growth so that I can keep bettering myself. 

In the evening I headed out to a friend’s for tacos, which were an absolute delight in itself. And then my bf and I got to walk his dog, who I am convinced is the most precious thing in the entire universe - maybe even more so than my bf himself (I kid... or maybe not) - and who is just such a gentle-natured darling. It began to drizzle, so she led us home and we spent the rest of the night playing Sherlock and Among Us with the rest. :) It was a very peaceful evening. For a moment I’d forgotten all about the fact that I start work next Monday and was simply content to bask in the Christmas lights, the heavy downpour and the anomalous chill that came along with it. Just... living in the present, enjoying the moment. 

Now that’s definitely something else on my to-do list for 2020 as well. So often the beauty of the present tends to be marred by my worries and anxieties of the future, but I always remind myself of this quote from Scripture: “Which one of you, by worrying, can add another day to his life?” And when I look back at my life and all the times I’ve worried and fretted and cried, feeling like there was no way for us to extricate ourselves from this rut, this perennial cycle of debt and other things that have plagued me from birth, I am also reminded of God’s grace and providence that has brought me through so, so much. It would’ve been impossible to have done all of this by myself; I frankly might not have had the will to continue living if not for those things. 

Talking about my lived experiences also ties in to the last part of my day - where I thought about how exclusive and inaccessible the poetry scene here feels. You would think otherwise, in a country of no more than 5-6 million folks, but no. I was ranting about this a little to my boyfriend: how it feels like a lot of the spaces within are reserved for the elites of society with silver spoons in their mouths and golden plates on their tables offering them anything they wanted while I was struggling to put food on the table at fourteen. Sometimes I also lament the fact that I didn’t have my parents to tell me bedtime stories, to encourage me to read and cultivate my vocabulary. Perhaps it’s jealousy, or inferiority, or a mix of both. 

But my boyfriend, ever wise and supportive, offered me a different perspective. He made a fair point about how I still fell in love with books and writing regardless, and how literature is oftentimes only a harbour that the privileged visit because the marginalised, the poor are too busy working for basic necessities to even think about such things. To the ordinary blue-collar layperson, poetry is just frankly a frivolous sentiment that won’t turn itself into gold. I agree with this wholeheartedly. It’s one of the reasons why I always felt like I didn’t have time to write, and one of the reasons why my first job was at a library (so I could read as much as I wanted! For free!). Then he said, “But see, no one wants to read about the rich waxing poetic about how lovely and grand their sunny little island is. But people will want to read about your perspective - your poems of the brokenhearted clinging on desperately to their inner child, your poems about the poor working to make ends’ meet, your poems about your tangible struggles - all of those will resonate with the masses, for sure.” And I was like, well, that’s fair. But I certainly don’t express myself as eloquently as these people do. Next to them I’m like an uncultured swine who can’t even tell the difference between all the different forks splayed on the table. 

His response was that people need to understand these things before appreciating them, and sometimes simplicity works best - a lesson that’s been drilled into us from the very inception of law school. And I was like, okay, fair, but deep down my heart was exploding with the sheer warmth of having someone so incredibly supportive of everything I do, even if it’s worthless in society’s eyes. I remember one night when I was telling him about how, as a twelve-year-old, I had a dream to one day study Literature at Yale. I would hole myself up in the library after school, feverishly flipping through books to expand my imaginations and horizons, my mental dictionary of words, dreaming about the day where I could escape all of this and dwell in nothing but imaginative worlds one day. Where reality failed me, I knew that I could always count on my imagination to transport me to somewhere safe and special, filled with joy and sorrow and tragedy and hope. 

I ended up studying law. Not a bad thing, because as stressful as it was I really did enjoy the things I’ve learnt - international and constitutional law, especially - and it has certainly given me new, mature perspectives on so many things; taught me to argue with reason and objectivity instead of just emotion and passion and has led me to meet so many wonderful (also trashy, but I’m out of this hellhole) people. I just don’t like the fact that 80-hour work weeks are the norm and that there’s always so much to... read. If you gave me a piece of fiction I could happily indulge in it for hours, but sometimes judgments can be so ridiculously mundane to read, especially if they’re just itemising every single case on illegality from the 19th century. Lord knows I need at least two cups of coffee for that. Black, to be specific. 

Anyway, I digress (as I always do lmao). My bf ended up researching all night until he stumbled across this Literature programme at Harvard - which frankly sounds amazing, but also unattainable. Which was what I said. And he was like, “Do I think it’s impossible? No. I think you have a very compelling life story, and you’re full of amazing stories within you to tell. And if you want to do it, I will support you wholeheartedly.” 

Again, as is usually the case, I had nothing left to offer apart from muted sobs under my blanket. It still sounds absurd to me - unthinkable, even - but I am just so, so grateful to have someone like him support me through everything. Literally everything. This is the man who has spent hours tutoring me in the subjects that I was hopeless in in first year, because I was too busy tutoring random folks in economics and geography and catching up on sleep (in class, no less), who has patiently helped me prepare for every single mooting competition and watched every single one of them, who has seen me cry and admonish myself for being a failure (only to spend hours trying to convince me otherwise), who has celebrated every single one of my victories and losses - you deserve a treat, anyway! Let’s go eat something nice and put it behind us, for now! This is the same man who has so much passion for what he does, who is so darn good at it without even realising that he is (I wept when he won a mooting competition this year because I was so proud of and happy for him), and who inspires confidence and compassion in me every day. 

I am grateful to share all our triumphs and tribulations together, and I look forward to starting a new chapter in life with you. :) 

[og-danny-dorito]

“ Anything?” PART 2 : SMUT

(A/N: Nearly 100 notes on this(https://og-danny-dorito.tumblr.com/post/188443568230/anything) fic? Y'all are crazy. Some of y'all thirsty bitches decided that's you wanted MORE out of my sort of not intended to continue fanfic and I APPRECIATE your support. This doesn't have nsfw themes in it but it's not like fully smut tho, I'm sorry :((( there's no insertion of pp just insertion of like fingers I'm sorry I'm VERY out of practice with smut. Anyway I hope you enjoy, and both @grav3yard-gh0st​ and @sunsetsandbooks​ wanted to be mentioned, so here you go! Thank you for reading!)

- - -

“Alright, then fuck me.”

  It wasn't until he uttered the words that you registered a reaction, one which was mere surprise. You felt your face wash over with a hot wave, your body remaining unmoving. And in that instant you saw a look of dread on his face, one which symbolized disappointment or sorrow. Did he think you wouldn't do it? Was that it? Did he think he knew you weren't going to do it? A sudden anger was rising in your chest. How dare he assume that? At almost light speed, you moved upwards on your knees to be level with his hips. It seemed that his shirt was already partially unbuttoned, making it much easier for you to pry open the shirt to the expanse of flesh which was foreign land. He was just as pale underneath as he looked.

  It only caught Tommy a little bit off off guard when your fingertips made contact with his skin, but his tensed posture that looked in the verge of pushing you away dissipated when you glanced up in an affirmative sort of way. You seemed sure of yourself, at least to him, and he could feel a shiver up his spine as you grazed the tattoo on his heart. The ink was permanently embedded into his skin, drawing a design atop his chest that you knew not the meaning of. But that was unimportant right now.

  You could see his chest rising and falling with each breath, the severity of it becoming increasingly worse. He must've felt hot, just as you did from beneath your clothes at the moment. It was probably easier to just remove them now. The coat was partially off your arm now, showing some of the skin of your shoulder. As your fingers roamed his skin, he felt himself growing a familiar feeling in his pants, causing him to open his mouth to breathe. How had you gotten him so riled up in the course of a few seconds? He didn't want to rush you, but he was feeling more than desperate at the moment. He had gone so long without physical contact that it was early sickening, and being teased in such a way where your fingertips ghosted his skin and his muscles tensed to the slightest sound was torture.

  But you would make your way to spare him as your hands eventually went to this buttons closing his pants, for both his sake and yours. Touch-starved. That's the word Ada would call it. Completely and utterly touch starved. But the stubborn ass you called a boss wouldn't ever admit that to anyone in a million years. The fly of his pants came unbuttoned to reveal skin with freckles on it, revealing a slight drift of hair that lead downwards into the nether region. He looked down at you expectantly, and you knew what you needed to do.

  It didn't take you any time at all to grip the hem of the fabric guarding him, your touch gently guiding it down off his hips a small bit. Apparently he was almost fully hard from just a few touches. You were tempted to flatter yourself and say that it was out of sheer lust for you, but your mind wheeled back to the thing about being touch starved. He just hadn't been touched in a while. That was all. A slightly somber feeling rose up in your chest as you looked at him. Compared to you he was almost completely undone, the anticipation of it all making him restless as he moved to cup the side of your face. He looked like he was hyperventilating.

  You wouldn't say that your fear was completely gone at the contact, but it definitely eased it. You had done this a few times before, and were at least moderately skilled, but you would try to do better this time. Slowly, but surely, your mouth hovered towards the head of his member. It was warm against your lips, your tongue almost jumping out of your mouth from the sharp intake of breath he gave off at your own grazing against the sensitive skin. He was just as pale down here as he was everywhere else, enough for you to see the blood rushing to the tip as it twitched from the base. He could feel himself waiting, anticipating a longer touch or a greater feeling.

  It took you a moment or so, but there was a definite point when you decided to grow the balls to do it. Soon enough you found yourself with half of the shaft inside of your mouth, his hand feverishly snaking to the side of your head as he caressed your cheek with his thumb. "That's right, love, just like that.", he rasped, his eyes seeming to become hazy. It was almost fascinating how he could become so undone in a few seconds just from this alone. Perhaps you'd tease him a little, make him more desperate for it for a little longer.

  Where had this attitude of punishment begun? Was it when he surrendered himself to you? You wouldn't abuse this power you had been given, you knew that he rarely showed this side of himself to anyone. It was out of your realm of privilege, yet he'd given it to you. Not as a boss, but as a companion. As a lover, almost, just barely. And you'd keep writing poetry you didn't understand and making art you couldn't explain to yourself for as long as you'd stay under this spell he'd cast on you. As long as he held you under his control, you'd stay subjected to pointless wondering about the depths of his mind, making conclusions that were fact but ones which made you open up doors to new questions very time. This wasn't love, at least you had assumed. It was adoration and nothing else.

  But you didn't know the extent to which he craved you; longed for you. There were nights he couldn't sleep, plagued by the memories of a distant past and the thought of you swimming through his mind. It was a burden to feel so helpless and at the mercy of another person, by another person. Especially one who was meant to be underneath him. But he wouldn't treat you as property. You would be treated as you deserved to be treated; the one who made him feel a sliver of happiness just at the sight of you. And so when he made a move to stroke your hair affectionately as your mouth worked it's way down his shaft, he had no hesitation in encouraging you in your act.

  You had told him before you didn't do this sort of thing often, both out of lack of desire to others and bad experience, but your words betrayed you. He expected you to be an amateur, lacking in experience, but you were making him unwind with just your mouth at the moment, and you didn't appear to be trying. Was his admiration so great that he could find pleasure just at seeing you? You hummed around him as his hips suddenly bucked upwards, encouraging you wordlessly to bob your head. You did as commanded of you, your eyes closing a small bit as your hands moved over the clothed expanse of his thighs. He was breathing heavily now, a slight sheet of sweat coming over his brow as you worked it out of him, your eyes kidding over as you chocked a small bit.

  The sound itself made him nearly release right there, but he held himself back. You'd go slow this time, since it was more indulgent that way. Your hair feel upon your face in a way that made you look angelic, even like this, with your lips wrapped around his length and your eyes starting to tear a bit. You had always been quiet when you were focused, so it was no surprise to him that you weren't speaking. Your tongue had made its way to stroke at the underside of his skin, trailing up and down the rippled which seemed to pulse beneath your tongue. It was then that you stopped for a moment just as you were reaching the apex of the tip, resting your tongue's pressure to the most sensitive area as you sucked gently where you were.

  The warmth in the room was building to a conclusion that made his hips buck upwards, his arms tense, and his hand suddenly grip at the side of your head in a manner that could be considered painful. You drew back with an loud pop, your eyes flicking upward towards him. Even in a more sober state than before, you don't feel as if you weren't doing this against your will. You felt...safe. Maybe it was how he was speaking to you, or the fact that he looked like he was in complete euphoria at just the touch of your mouth. But Tommy had always had a gift of gaining your trust very quickly. You knew he wouldn't hurt you, not too bad at least.

  It was quiet as he moved forward, adjusting himself to gaze at how you were touching your lips which were stained of his cum. You looked anticipating, aroused even as you looked up to him with such an appearance. It was almost as if he had marked his territory in a way. But he would find time to do that better, right now he was all too fixed on admiring you.

  "Take a seat right here, hm?", he said patting his lap. You felt complied to obey, although you weren't sure what he was planning. You wiped his seed off your face with the fabric of the sleeve, causing you to shed the jacket entirely as it fell to the floor. You rose to your feet, adjusting a piece of the dress that had gotten caught on your skin. "That's right, up you go.", he coaxed, leaning back as you slowly made your way up. "Am I too heavy?", you asked, your words a bit clearer now that you had sobered up a small bit. You looked a little worried, but to that he just...chuckled. With your legs straddling his waist, you felt your heart speed up a bit. This was so...filthy of you two. What if someone walked in?

  The smile that graced his lips caused you to feel butterflies in your chest and your own muscles pulling taught to your eyes, feeling a little embarrassed at the question. "Think I'm weak, yeah? Open up your legs for me.", he said, tone almost too teasing for you. You did as you were told, seeming to speak your legs to drape over the arm of the chair on either side like an overflowing cup where the fluid would drop off in beads of liquid. You had to lean on your elbows a small bit as you did, causing you to feel a slight bit exposed at how much up skirt he could be seeing. You assumed he had seen people like this all the time, either by command or not, but you felt yourself growing a bit somber at thinking of that. It felt wrong, at least now.

  Slowly but surely, he made his way to snake his hand up your thigh, pale, scarred hand seeming to come into contrast with your own s/c skin. His fingertips were rough and scarred, his muscles seeming to move under the pale skin as he trailed his right hand up your right leg. He was careful in his movement, retaining eye contact the whole way as he did. His blue eyes were intense, the emotion and focus shining through the tired lids that made him look worn out most of the time. It was the gaze of a hawk staring you down. His fingers ghosted over the expanse of your inner thigh, eyes seeming to trail with the movement. Yet he stopped near the endpoint of your leg, looking up affirmatively.

You nodded a bit too eagerly at the unspoken question.

  As soon as he reached his permission, Tommy immediately flipped your dress up, seeing that in fact you were wearing a lingerie set that complemented your skin tone and figure more than anything. The color was most accented by the fabric, seeming to give off a slightly shiny glow in the candle light. He had hoped this wasn't out of expectancy of another encounter with someone else. His fingers trained to your right hip, left hand coming up to hook with the hem of your underwear almost teasingly. Your breath was speeding up at the warmth being drawn over your skin in circles by his thumb, his right hand seeming to go underneath the fabric of your underwear to rest there for a bit.

  Hesitantly, but sure enough, he moved forward, his head coming to rest into the crook of your neck. You made no move to resist him, frantic hands gripping onto his clothed shoulder as he breathed in your scent. His thumb was still making circles underneath your bare minimum of clothing as his hand moved to stroke you. It made you jolt for a second, but you felt calmed as soon as he shushed you quietly in your ear. Your eyes fluttered closed as he slipped a digit to rest between your folds. You barely held in a gasp at the sensation of him messing with the wetness between you, breath hiking up as you struggled to suppress a moan. But one came loose despite your hesitation. You were fairly certain he could react badly to that sort of thing, perhaps out of bad memory, but your feeling betrayed you.

  "A-Ah, Mr. Shelby-", you moaned, your breath catching in your throat. “Tommy.” You nodded quickly, letting the word drip from your mouth like honey. “Tommy, please...” At that he let out a slight huff, his movement becoming more erratic as he played with the nub of your heat. It felt as if you were going to collapse at the feeling alone. Your legs had begun to shake, eyes screwing closed as you but back moans. But he wasn't having any of it. "Don't hold them back, Y/n.” It sounded like a growl, one which you felt came from the depth she of him. He didn't care if someone heard, he wanted them to know. “Let me hear you. You can be loud.", he said, barely above a whisper. You could hear the rustle of leaves outside sound more distant than anything, everything other than what was happening in this room sounding like distant, white noise. You felt comforted yet strangely exited all at once, not helped by the soothing but hungry words coming out of his mouth.

  It took him almost no time at all to slip a finger inside of you, nearly catching you off guard as you quickly removed the rest of your dress. It didn't take you long to get it off with his reluctant departure for a second, but the fact that the flat of your stomach and  rivet of your ribs that hid underneath your skin were now exposed to the coldness of the room made him slightly more pleased to litter your skin with marks. Combined with the incessant thrusting of his hand, Tommy had begun to suck at your neck, using your clutching hands on his mostly undone shirt at motivation. You complied to his command almost too eagerly when he told you to moan for your mouth was ajar as you let out soft whimpers of pleading.

  The heat you felt was not from the candles or heating system, but rather the intensity of his movements and warmth of your own skin against his that had made you feel so overheated. You needed to get your clothes off soon, for a sheen of sweat was forming on your skin to glisten in the dim light of the room. You needn't feel embarrassed however. You could tell that he was almost at his wit's end. In his frenzy he inserted yet another digit, stretching you out a bit as you let out a soft, short plea at the intrusion. Your hips had resulted in grinding onto him for friction, mostly as a way to draw you to your end more quickly. There was a staggering pulsing inside of you that he could feel around him, his fingers moving a bit to curl inwards on you. It caused you to let out a moan that could wake the dead from their graves almost as it woke his arousal once more more intensely and violently.

  His mourn the whole time had made it self occupied by roaming your skin with kisses and slight beats of heavy breathing, but stopped when you whimpered something softly to him. "I-I can't stop it much longer...", you spoke, voice barely above a whisper. It was almost pitiful, but he had never been one to give mercy. Almost instantly, Tommy bit down, hard, on your neck, your back arching as you hissed in through your teeth. He was trying to draw it out of you more intensely than he would any other, and it was most evident how he began to whisper things to you that were more along the lines of harsh whispers and lamentations of his wants that you felt you were at his mercy. The tables had turned on a mere matte roof minutes, but no one would catch you complaining.

  "F-Fuck- oh god..."

  With an arch of your back and a familiar heat wash over your body, you felt the knot of electric pulsing unwind as your threw your head back. Tommy seemed to let out a satisfied sigh as he felt a wash of liquid over his fingers, letting the digits slide out of you more easily as he watched you come undone. By this point your hair was sticking to your face and your eyes had opened only slightly from their tight closure, but he didn't mind. With his clean hand he made his way to wipe your hair out of your face. You felt yourself lean into his touch.

  "Breathe.” He placed a soft kiss on your cheek. “You did a good job.", he said simply, stroking your face almost affectionately. But it was when his lips met your slowly that you felt yourself relax completely from underneath him. Your eyes fluttered close as he moved forward in that familiar way, his own thin lips meeting with yours for a long, lingering moment before moving away. You knew you wouldn't have to go past your limit, he wasn't seeking that out tonight. But your head filled with slight worries of the future. You hoped this wouldn't taint your work with him.

  Very slowly, you managed to smile as he moved to lean back into the chair, whipping off his fingers with a nearby rag. There was a long silence before you chuckled a little, causing him to raise a brow. "What?", he asked you, his expression barely even stoic anymore. He just looked tired, but completely vulnerable to you at the moment. Huh. "Nothing, I just never thought you'd tell me I'd done a good job after jerking me off.", you said nonchalantly, shrugging a little. He almost cracked a smile at that, but not quite. "We'll keep this quiet for now, I assume?" Tommy shook his head a little, resting his hand on your leg before smiling a bit and narrowing his eyes at you. "If you could keep your voice down for once, yeah. Let's keep it quiet." You smacked his arm playfully, causing him to roll his eyes.

   He would be sure to push you to your limit next time.

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