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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

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On the Coffee Table - It’s Not Entirely Comfortable (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: NSFT, creampie, rough sex, degrading, slight praise, “daddy”, “good girl”, marking - like, biting and love bites, jealous/possessive sex, squirting, slight blood? Nothing major though, also there’s three tongues in here and once again, a knotted dick/knotting. If you are a minor, DNI]

[AN: I started this at 2 am trying to finish it after downing some melatonin and only finished it now. Please tell me if I translated wrong!! I unfortunately only speak English. Doja Cat - Freak. This is 5.3K words.]

Part 1 Part 2

Jack trusts you so, so much. That much is apparent. It’s been about a month or so since he took you away from your old life, and you’ve never been happier. In fact, it’s been nothing but good things!

Why do you say that? Jack is so sweet, caring, and attentive. He knows what you want when you need it, and still, you’ve only ever kissed him.

In a sense, it’s maddening, but at the same time, it’s kinda cute. You like that he’s willing to go at your pace, and you like that he’s so mindful of how you’re feeling at any and every moment. You’re just really, really happy he chose you.

When that man from the grocery store came up to you, trying to speak to you… Well, you thought he just wanted some help! Honest to goodness, you had no idea what he was trying to do. Which is quite odd, considering you’ve been considered a goddess in your own right figuring those tells from miles and continents away.

You stood at the cart, waiting patiently for Jack to come back from the other side of the grocery story because something you’d wanted slipped his mind. So, you familiarized yourself with the fresh produce instead, looking over the pretty colors before that cute little shower system kicked on paired with the little rain noises as they gave water to the vegetables.

You were honestly minding your own business when some man came up to you, a shy smile on his face.

“Uh, hello, ma’am?” He started, a pack of berries in his hand.

You whip around and turn your attention to him, putting down the leaks as you did so. “Yes?”

“Do you know how this is pronounced?” He said. “Is it… A-kai..?”

You motioned for him to come a little closer - close enough for your shoulders to brush up against each other. Your eyes scanned over the words. “Oh! It’s açaí ,” you giggled as you read over the words.

“A-sigh?”

“Açaí,” you repeated with a small smile. “See? Say it with me,” you said, as you watched the man’s face light up.

“Oh, okay, açaí,” he finally said correctly, that same smile bloomed on his face. “Y’know, you’re really good at this,” he smiled.

You lit up. “Thank you!” Beaming, you gave him your full attention.

“It’s nothing, did you take Spanish?” He inquired, still maintaining his close distance to you.

You nodded vigorously. “I took four years of Spanish in high school. Señora Chika always said I had an ear for language,” you said in a semi-serious tone, index finger tapping your right ear lobe in a way that made that man blush.

The man smiled back. “That’s so nice to hear,” he continued, building off your words. “Look, I’m gonna be going to Mexico pretty soon, it’s a work thing,” he brushed off, “and I wanna know if I could get some of your tutoring services?”

You blinked a few times. “Me?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “I think you would make an excellent-”

“An excellent what?” Jack’s clipped voice cut through, his glamour’s eyes glaring deeply at the man who dares breathing in the same air as you. When he saw the man pause, he waved his hand a bit as if to signal him to hurry it up. “She’d make an excellent what?”

“It’s… It’s nothing,” he mumbled before brushing past you and Jack. “Didn’t know she had a boyfriend, sorry,” he harshly apologized as he disappeared back into the aisles.

You tilted your head as you looked up at Jack. “What about his Spanish lessons?”

Jack sighed in deeply and took hold of the cart, tossing the thing you asked for back into it. “Él no quería clases de español.”

Your eyes widened in response. “Oh.”

Jack was silent to you the entire car ride back home, and you wondered if it was because that man came up to talk with you. You frowned in the seat. You honestly didn’t know that man’s intentions! You didn’t mean to push Jack’s buttons like that, in fact, you didn’t even know that man was flirting with you! He came up asking about pronunciation, not a number!

You pouted all the way until you made it back home, helping him bring the groceries back in as you did so.

“Put this one in the freezer,” he said as that frown continually pulled his lips downwards.

When you opened the fridge, he tsked his tongue.

“The freezer.”

You relented and did as he asked. Once it was in, he nodded at the now empty bags and began balling them up to throw away, maybe reuse and put in the bag drawer before leaving you to yourself.

And that’s how the rest of the day went. Jack looked like such a stick in the mud and you couldn’t stand it. What was eating him up so much?

You decide to confront him after dinner when the two of you are sitting on the sofa, watching some stupid program you don’t really care for. You just know you like being near him.

“Why are you being such a jerk?” You ask out of the blue as the program moves to commercials.

Jack visibly tenses before he relaxes again, raising his eyebrow. “Excuse me?” He deadpans, almost surprised you have the gall to speak to him in such a manner.

You huff and cross your arms over your chest as you turn fully towards him, brows furrowed and face cross with frustration over his behavior. “You heard me the first time,” you reply. When you watch his expression turn from vague amusement to slight anger, you backtrack. “I just - why are you so mad at me?” You finally ask, your eyes dark and stormy. “What on the gods green earth could I have done to offend you so greatly?” You huff, arms still crossed and face determined.

Jack lowers his eyebrows and reclines back, trying to give you the illusion that he’s not interested in your challenge. “You wanna rethink that tone?” He hums. “You’re messing with fire.” There’s a slight tease that laces his words and you catch it ever so slightly.

You’ve heard that tease before. “Maybe… Maybe I wanna feel the heat,” you murmur, voice dipping to something low and sultry. You uncross your arms on your chest and move your hands over to his lap.

Jack watches you carefully as he feels your index and middle fingers walk up his thigh and to his chest. “You’re gonna get burned.” His voice is so much lower and more alluring than whatever he was showing to you before.

Your eyes sparkle as your fingertips walk up to the neck of his hoodie, hooking in it and pulling slightly as if you’re asking him to take it off. “Maybe you’ll just have to kiss it better,” you mumble, bringing your lips closer and closer to his.

Jack doesn’t move and instead, allows you to lean in further and further. He’s got a budding smirk on his lips as you draw closer, his dark sockets watching you with intrigue.

You finally press your lips to his, eyes closing as he invites you further and further into him. You smile through the kiss, and giggle when his hands hook around your waist and sling you onto his lap, your thighs now resting on either side of him, bottom planted firmly on his thighs.

“You’ve been such a bad girl,” he mutters through the kiss as you move more fervently against his lips, his clawed fingertips now digging into the curve of your ass.

“Have I?” You breathe against him before smashing your lips back onto his, your heart rate already picking up and drumming wildly in your chest. You feel it’s harder and harder to breathe as he practically crushes you against his chest.

“You have,” he reaffirms, briefly disconnecting from you. “And that means you’re going to get punished for it.”

You practically squeal in delight as Jack’s sharp claws dig into the hem of your shirt and travel upwards, cutting through the fabric like it’s nothing. The torn fabric drops from beside you like it’s weightless, leaving you just shy of being exposed.

“You want me to break this too?” He hums, his fingers lightly feathering up your back to the clasp on your bra.

“I don’t care,” you giggle, leaning into his warmth.

Jack hums again and decides on unclipping it, briefly cooing in amusement as you lean back on his lap and slip the thing off before tossing it over your shoulder. He whistles deeply as he gazes at your chest. One of his hands plants back down on the curve of your ass before sliding back up to cup your chest, his large hands practically engulfing your breasts in their entirety.

You giggle once more and move your hand upwards to rest on top of his, gripping him gently and pushing him just a bit harder as he fondles you. You feel a rush of excitement every time his claws just barely ghost your nipples.

“No,” he suddenly says, his hand leaving your bottom half to pry you off of him. “You don’t have a right to touch me tonight,” he states as if it was nothing. He gestures to your hands. “Keep them on your thighs or on the back of the couch,” he commands, watching as you pout and settle on gripping your thighs. He smiles devilishly at you. “Good girl.”

You break your pout for a moment before he squeezes your breast, making heat rise to your face. The warmth that he gives off is almost intoxicating. You’re almost lost in it when he suddenly leaves, picking you up and off his lap, almost roughly placing you onto the far end of the sofa. You’re looking up at him with wide eyes as his fingers hook into the waistband of your pants.

He hesitates.

“Well?” You egg him on. “What are you waiting for?”

And just like that, Jack is tearing your pants off, his claws slicing through the material like it’s nothing. You watch as he towers over you, snaking in between your legs as he pries them open. Jack’s face goes dark as he cuts off your underwear, his clawed fingers tracing your already glistening cunt.

Your mind goes blank when you catch him smirking and three long, thick, inky black tongues slip from his mouth, twirling and twisting against each other like snakes as they creep over each other, dripping with clear saliva. The tip of the longest tongue - which you recognize as the middle one - slinks forward and broadly licks you from top to bottom, making your thighs tense on instinct. Then, it takes a few more teasing licks, mostly building you up, wondering to see if you’re getting impatient, testy.

“EJ-” you barely wisp out before the middle tongue finally slips in past your already puffy lips, slowly, dragging against your walls lightly moving back and forth as it slips deeper and deeper in.

You let out a ragged moan at the sudden contact, thighs tensing once more. This action garners Jack’s attention and his arms maneuver under your slightly propped up legs, his claws digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. It’s not hard enough to draw blood, but it’s enough to remind you of your place. You bite your lip in pure ecstasy as his middle tongue wiggles inside of you, thrusting light as it does so, his second tongue lathering your lips up in his saliva and applying delicious pressure to you. His third tongue begins to prod your pearl, and when it finally touches, you hiss in the contact.

You honestly didn’t realize just how warm he was. It gently circles your clit before taking slow, languid kitten licks, working you up to little circles that render his hands free to keep you from bucking him. Your wandering hands, which you had been gripping in vain on the cushions of the couch for support, feel useless under your iron grip. On instinct, your hands fly down to Jack’s head, wanting to push his face in deeper but he pauses.

His middle tongue stops twisting and curling inside of you, it’s no longer hitting that spot that has you seeing stars and his other tongues have retracted entirely.

You pout. “You’re such a meanie!” You exclaim as you throw your head back down onto the arm of the couch.

He shoots you a look as his tongue begins to retreat from your pussy, almost as if he’s asking if you want to rethink that statement.

You feel a heat rush to your cheeks.

He gives you that look again, eyebrows lowering and lids halving. There’s a faint smirk on his lips as he seemingly gestures to your hands, telling you to keep them to yourself. Jack is telling you that you aren’t allowed to touch him right now.

You glance away before he hums against your aching cunt, his tongue retreating from you just a little faster. You relent. “I’m sorry,” you mumble.

His brow raises. ‘What else?’

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you finally say before cutting yourself off with a loud gasp as Jack’s tongues are once again on the assault. His middle tongue is fucking your pussy with a heat you didn’t know possible, and you can barely even think as he rubs and sucks at your clit with his others. You feel his lips lightly graze you every now and then, his shark-like teeth coming dangerously close to nipping you but you don’t care.

In frustration, you ball your hands in fists and throw your arms over your head, struggling in vain to not touch yourself or Jack as he works you closer and closer to the edge. Your pussy feels like an ocean by how hard he’s working you, and the sounds that come out of your mouth are just downright sinful.

Jack’s thumb rubs small circles on your thighs, almost as if he’s complimenting you for not touching him before he works you closer and closer to the edge.

You clamp your eyes shut and arch your back as he removes his second tongue from your lips and wiggles it in with a powerful thrust from his middle tongue, the two intertwining and combining, bringing a new sensation to your overloaded cunt. Sweat beads all over your body as he thrusts a bit harder and flexes, the sudden thickness making your stomach and heart flutter.

His third tongue remains playing with your clit, circling and licking.

You can practically hear Jack goading you to cum.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine, your thighs threatneing to clamp shut but Jack’s strong grasp holding you wide open and accessible for him. “Fuck!” You cry out again, back arching once more, hands balling so hard into fists you feel like they’re going to fall off and a raw cry of ecstasy pouring from your lips as you release onto his face, coating his tongues and face in nectar.

The white hot pleasure continues to bead and wash over you as his tongues begin to clean you up, the middle still refusing to leave your creamy cunt. It makes you tense, and that gets a soft chuckle rumbling from the back of Jack’s throat.

After he was sure he slurps you clean, Jack slowly, almost teasingly, removes his tongues from your cunt and then licks his lips like the bastard he is. He looks so smug. “That wasn’t very fast,” he notes as his lips begin to press kisses to your slightly bruised thighs, his teeth gracing your flesh every now and then.

You pout as you begin to sit up on shaky legs, body feeling like jell-o. “Give me a chance,” you challenge.

Jack raises a brow before dropping it, his face leaving from in between your legs and drawing closer and closer to yours. “I don’t think whores should get chances.”

You immediately bristle and smash your lips to his, hands angrily grabbing at his still clothed form, almost goading him to take it off. You hide your squeal of delight as he kisses you back just as fervently, his large hand groping aimlessly for yours.

Jack grabs your wrist and brings you down to his pants, allowing you to rub the large bulge that’s grown as he ate your pussy.

You stifle your giggle and unzip hi, after you worked on his belt - it’s not like this is the first time you’ve done something like this - but when you reach in and feel for him, your eyebrows raise slightly.

Jack feels you pause and laughs, effectively breaking the kiss. He pulls away from you to look at your face. “Go ahead. Take it out.”

Gently, your hands peel back his pants as he makes minimal movement to help get them off and easier for you and you are greeted to an absolute monster. He’s not even rock solid but you can tell he’s huge. Interestingly enough, there’s also piercings in it - you recognize the ones on the length of his cock as ladder piercings followed by a ring at his tip. Your face rushes with heat when you see he’s got a thick knot as well, already waiting to fill you up.

“Not what you’re used to?” He teases, his legs open as he rests back on the couch, waiting for you to touch him.

Your fingers gently trail and crawl up his muscular thighs before you wrap your fingers around him, taking note of the texture on his cock. It wasn’t anything like a human man’s, and that made you excited. That same coiling white hot heat began to pool in your lower stomach as you slowly began to pump him.

“Spit on it,” he states in passing.

“Yes, daddy,” you reply, lips pursing as you thickly spit onto his head. Your thumb sneaks it over his dark dock that fades almost beautifully into his actual skin tone - you take notice of the silver specks that look like stars - and begin to grip him just a bit harder. You watch Jack’s expressions for anything of approval or disdain when you realize he’s not going to give you any satisfaction. You’ve been a bad girl. Of course he’s going to make you work for it.

“Use your mouth,” he then cuts through. “If you even think about using your hands, I’ll bite you.” He’s only half teasing. He absolutely would draw blood on your pretty flesh. His large, clawed hand that was gripping the back of the couch slinks upwards and over and buries itself onto your scalp, both soothingly and roughly guiding you down to his precum covered tip.

You open your mouth as wide as you can, mouth salivating as you finally taste him and the metal that decorates him. You’re so careful as he begins to pump your head on him, tongue flatly covering him in your spit as the head of his cock gets closer and closer to hitting the back of your throat. You struggle to breathe through your nose as he pushes you down harder and harder.

Jack hums out deeply as you suck him, your tongue swirling when he finally brings you back up. He switches hands eventually, the hand that had been holding your head now with its fingers trailing down your bare back as he cups the curve of your ass.

‘What on earth is he doing-!’ You moan against him as he twitches in the back of your throat as his ring finger and thumb slowly pull your lips apart just enough for his index and middle finger to slip in, filling you - but not to your limit. You squeeze your legs together and feel slick once again leak down your thighs as he finger fucks you while you still struggle to breathe on his cock as he pushes you down rougher and rougher.

In a way, you become his toy as his fingers make quick work of you. Your mind is lost in a lustful haze and you don’t even recognize he’s practically pulled your mouth off his cock as his fingers thrust into you harder, his nails so close to cutting you but instead, curling upwards in the best ways. Your face rests pathetically on his lap, your ass in the air as he trades his ring finger for his pinky and slips it into your needy, aching cunt.

“What a slut,” he whistles as you breathe raggedly against him. “I haven’t even fucked you properly and you’re rocking against me like a bitch in heat,” he cruelly observes, stifling his amusement at how you buck back in tandem with him. “Would you have treated that man in the store like this?” He asks, his voice dipping down to something sinister.

Your mind peers through the fog and you weakly shake your head as his fingers continue to fuck you. “Of course not,” you manage to squeak out. “N-Never, no one could make me feel like this,” you breathe out before squeezing your eyes shut, clamming your legs even tighter together to attempt to give your swollen clit some pleasure.

“You’re lying,” he states in a sing-song tone, his fingers roughly thrusting into you, curling upwards and rubbing you intimately, making you see stars. “Liars don’t deserve to cum,” and just like that, he’s pulling his long, thick fingers from your greedy cunt.

You gasp and look up at him almost wantonly and certainly pathetically. “EJ,” you begin before his other hand presses to your lips.

“You know better than to call me that,” he chides.

You swallow your pride, gradually composing yourself to a sitting position. “Daddy.”

“Better.”

“Please,” you start, moving off the cough and onto the coffee table. You turn around, planting your hands on the glass, poking your ass up and wiggling it side to side in an attempt to entice him, “please. I’ve been… I’ve been bad.”

“Just bad?” He hums as he stands up, palming his pierced cock for a moment or so, hissing as his precum weeps from the tip and onto the cheeks of your ass.

“I’ve been really, really bad,” you continue, still wiggling your hips and ass, swaying ever so slightly.

His tip just barely ghosts your entrance, hand gripping your hip. You feel his claws on your stomach, just barely poking the skin, ready to draw blood. “I think you’ve forgotten who you belong to,” he murmurs. “Why don’t I show you?”

You glance back over your shoulder and look at him with absolute desire and lust, nodding fervently. “Yes, daddy, please.” Your breath hitches as Jack’s hips sharply dart forward, filling you and stretching you almost painfully as his sheer size envelopes your form entirely. He’s still inching inside of you - you haven’t even reached his knot yet - and your arms almost wobble down on the coffee table as he piles you into it.

“Silly girl,” he tuts as he loosely backs up his hips and shallowly thrusts in again, making you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut in both pain and pleasure. “You’re always gonna be mine.”

You’re not even able to challenge the notion because he begins to absolutely ravage you. You feel like you’re stretched almost impossibly wide as he fucks you against the table, his breath picking up and becoming something more feral as you become a toy, an object, as he uses you. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth as you rest your cheek against the cool glass, chest pushing against it and leaving marks as you grip as tightly as you can onto the opposite edge of the table.

Jack begins to grit things in a language you don’t understand under his breath as he thrusts into you harder, his veiny cock pulsing inside of you as he drives in deeper and deeper. His balls slap against your clit, bringing you that much closer as he ruthlessly uses you. Judging by his tone, you assume he’s insulting you. “Fucking whore,” he seethes as he pulls you harder and harder against him, muscles tensing and all cares of breaking the coffee table being thrown out the window.

The tall, muscular, grey skinned man leans over you and begins to harshly breathe in your ear, his teeth nipping at the shell as he rolls his hips into you harder. The sound makes thick, meaty claps, almost sending you flying forward from the sheer force but him holding you back anchored you. “I can’t believe you’d even look at another man this way,” he continues in that same language, his lips and teeth leaving your ear and to your neck, nibbling before finally roughly biting down and sucking. It’s going to bruise. When he detaches, he harshly whispers to you again. “Wanton and waiting for someone else other than me, what the fuck were you thinking?” Jack harshly questions before biting yet again into your neck, his claws drawing the faintest of blood that drips like rubies down your skin.

You cry out in that same pleasurable and painful ecstasy and weakly meet his thrusts, barely able to think through the sheer force of him. “I-I-I’m sorry!” You cry out as one of his hands reaches your clit, fingering it as his balls continue to slap against it, making your legs wobble. “I’m sorry for making you mad, daddy!” You exclaim, finding yourself cut off with how his hand leaves your clit and snakes back up to your mouth. His fingers are coated in your juices and his - and he forces your mouth open.

“Lick them clean,” he harshly demands, hips still smacking against you. His length twitches every now and then, and the drag of his piercings feels so delicious against your stretched out walls.

You mumble against his fingers and lick your tongue on him, careful not to cut yourself on his talons as he shoves them deeper into your mouth. You suck on them, closing your eyes once more and feel tears well within them simply from the overload of pleasure.

When Jack pops his now clean fingers out of your mouth, he lifts you like you’re weightless and pops you off his cock, thoroughly amused at your bewildered expression before he plops you back down onto the coffee table, your legs still spread wide open from him, cunt still aching and hungry, absolutely needy for him to fill you to your brim.

The glass feels cool against your back as you realize he’s flipped you over. Your chest doesn’t feel as cramped anymore, so that’s nice. You’re barely afforded a moment with your thoughts before Jack is planting his hands on your left side and the other cups under your ass, lifting you slightly before pushing his thick, veiny cock back inside of you.

And you see it.

He’s building your lower abdomen out just from hsi size alone, and the thought, the image, the feeling, it makes you moan out again. Heat spreads over your entire body as Jack roughly works you up again, his cock bulging your stomach and weeping precum as you tighten your legs around his waist in vain, attempting to grasp onto something - anything to anchor yourself.

Your heart rate is flying, racing and your breaths are just picking up. You almost forget to breathe when Jack is back at the crook of your neck, biting, nipping and sucking, his tongues traveling over your slightly salty sweet skin like salt water taffy as you come closer and closer to breaking.

“Come on,” he hisses, hips roughly thrusting into you, making you gasp each time. “Squirt for me. Make daddy happy,” he continues, accenting each word with an even harsher thrust, stealing your breath each time. He grabs your wrist when you attempt to play with your clit and chides you with a snarl before finally rubbing you in a way that brings you over your edge.

You scream as his knot finally pushes past your bruised, puffy lips and practically becomes swallowed whole. The pain turns to pleasure as tears well in your eyes as you release all over him, sweet fluid splashing all over you and Jack as you vice grip his knot.

Jack pants out as he ruts into you as you squirt all over him, his knot still pushing into you with such hunger, filling you so much further than what you think is possible before he curls against you, his large form wrapping around you as he roars, releasing thick, creamy, white hot liquid into your needy cunt.

“Fuck, Reader, fuck,” he sneers like a mantra, hips weakly bucking against you, still very much connected by the knot as he continues to unload oceans of the warm, creamy liquid into you.

You feel tears roll down your cheeks from the sheer pleasure as you wrap your legs around his waist even tighter, nails raking against his back as you mumble his name and take in his deep scent. He’s otherworldly. You don’t even mind that Jack is still lighty rutting into you as he continues releasing, teeth bared and eyes shut in the pleasure your body is giving him.

When he finally empties himself fully into you, he breathes out deeply and rests his forehead against you, gently, tenderly, sweetly.

You feel hot, much too hot, and the only thing keeping you cool is the glass of the coffee table. You attempt to move off of him, to somewhere more comfortable when you wince in pain. “Ow! What is that?” You grumble as your eyes glance down to where Jack still remains buried inside of you.

He sighs out and follows your gaze. “Knot,” he states simply. “It’s gonna hurt-” He’s barely able to even get the words out as you’re already working on getting him out of you, wincing and hissing at the pain as you remove yourself off the thick, bulbous knot. Tears once again well in your eyes from the overwhelming stimulation, and Jack’s shaking his head as if to say ‘what did you expect?’

“I swear,” he mumbles as his thumbs gently wipe away your tears, not even noticing how his creamy cum pools down your legs and practically creates a waterfall onto the coffee table and onto his once immaculately clean floor. “Don’t force it out next time,” he grumbles as he slowly stands up, stretching slightly.

“Sorry,” you apologize, mind still hazy from the pleasure.

Jack relents and picks you up like you weigh nothing, already subtly checking if you’re hurt in any way from him and the rough coffee table. “It’s whatever,” he hums, holding you in his arms, simultaneously pleased and displeased with how harsh he was. But at least you smell like him. “C’mon, let me take care of this,” he offers, gesturing to the scrapes, cuts and bruises that are blooming on your body due to him.

Not wanting to say anything, you sleepily smile up at him and burrow into his chest. You look up at him.

“What?”

You yawn slightly. “Was I a good girl?” You ask playfully, resting your head on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat pick up.

Jack chuckles quietly. “You sure were.”

“Did I make daddy happy?”

Jack purrs slightly as your fingers brush against his cheek. “Without a shadow of a doubt.”

#eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #nsft #creepypasta scenario #x reader #reader insert #eyeless jack headcanon #ej

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docockbrainrot · 3 years

Text

i think i want you (to leave)

Summary: We’re all running from something. Sometimes, metaphorically. Sometimes, literally. Literally running, from the very strangely hypnotizing supervillain that seems hellbent on ruining every bit of your life he can get all eight of his limbs on.

Pairing: Doc Ock X Reader/ Otto Octavius X Reader

Content: Slow Burn, NSFW eventually, 18+

AO3 link here.

Previous Chapter

Chapter 5

anathema// former vandal

The next several days are an uneventful blur. You barely leave your apartment, except for brief dog walks and grabbing food from the bodega across the street.

It’s 9 pm on Saturday and you’re fresh out of the shower, tucked away in a very fuzzy robe, lounging on the couch and watching YouTube on your television. You almost miss the subtle taptaptaptap sound coming from your window, you're so engrossed in the cooking show you’ve been binging. Gotta fill the void somehow, right?

You can’t see anything outside from where you’re sitting. The lights are on and make it impossible to peer through the reflections on the glass. Maybe it’s a bird. Or a branch is caught on the fire escape. Either way, you certainly can’t be assed to check it out and you take another sip of your chamomile tea- you’ve been trying everything under the sun, just about short of literally snorting lines of melatonin, to try to sleep better at night. Nothing’s been working. But you have been making a very valiant effort.

A few moments go by and you forget all about the window disturbance until,

TAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAPTAP.

It’s jarring. It’s loud. Above all else, it’s annoying. Chekov spares you a look, like you’re the one making a racket. Effectively exasperated, you make an effort to set, not slam, down your mug, feeling decidedly not Calm and Relaxed as the tea promised. Suppose it’s not miracle shit though, is it? You would not be a good candidate for a horror movie because you fearlessly storm over to the window and throw it open (it wasn’t locked in the first place; you’re quite terrible at remembering to). You stick your head out and glower at whatever irritating mischief is happening out here, ready to rip the fire escape off the side of the brick building.

You’re greeted by something cold and hard (and indubiously metal, judging by how it felt against your sternum) shoving you back into your apartment, sending you sprawling unceremoniously to the hardwood floor. A string of profanities ready to leave your tongue, you sit up and adjust your robe in an attempt to preserve a modicum of your modesty. The rant dies in your throat as red eyed claws grip the threshold of your pre-war window and it’s almost comical the way He maneuvers himself in, far too large to be making these sorts of entrances. Standing up to his full height before you while you’re still sitting dumbfounded on the floor reminds you of just how impressively built he is. You manage to pick your jaw up, but your ass remains firmly planted on the wood.

“Uh… you could have just used the buzzer, dude. I have a front door, you know,” you sputter out, brain blitzing in pretty much every way possible. Your thoughts are racing and eventually they settle on the most important thing you can think to ask in that moment: “... Why aren’t you wearing a shirt.” You can't help the way your eyes are drawn to his broad chest, gaze lingering on the vast scarring that spills out from the metal contraption clamped around his midsection.

Otto very graciously closes the window behind himself. Or at least his little robot accomplices do it for him. You still aren’t sure what’s going on with that- the whole AI thing. Not even a blip on your radar of concerns at this point. “Didn’t want anyone to see me come in. Your building has a camera on the front, facing the street.”

“That’s why you’re shirtless?” You ask dumbly. Interesting method of camouflage. “What? No- what? It doesn’t matter- listen to me. I need you to do something for me. A small favor.”

He doesn’t seem to notice the compromised position he put you in. Typical. Gathering up your broken pride, you get up and tighten the tie of your robe a bit. It isn’t until then that he has the decency to look a smidge embarrassed and you hope you didn't just give him a free show on your way to getting to your feet. “You literally just broke into my apartment and now you’re asking for a favor? We barely know each other!”

“Less complicated when there's nothing personal involved yet, plus- you let me in,” he corrects you. You wish he would stop doing that. You wish he would stop meeting with you like this, under weird and mysterious circumstances. Even though it's only been like twice. You're already over it.

“You threw me across the room!”

“Touche.”

Otto does not apologize and you did not sincerely expect him to. The look on his face reads more like the cat that got the canary than regretful. You feel as though you’ve come to recognize that expression on his face and you also feel as though you don’t much like the fact that you’ve enough encounters with this man that you can recognize a damn thing about him. “What… could you possibly need me to do for you? I am not robbing a bank.” You just want to get that out into the open as soon as possible.

“I don’t need your help robbing a bank,” he snorts as if the idea is preposterous and you take a moment to feel insulted. Wow. Okay. You could totally rob a bank if you wanted to. Deciding to not comment on your wounded ego, you let him get to the point. Otto pulls something out of his inner coat pocket. It's some kind of rolled up paper and you think at first maybe it's a newspaper or magazine. He unfurls it onto the coffee table and holds it open with two metal claws on either side so it doesn't ravel itself back up.

You realize it's a blueprint. "This is… Oscorp," you point out stupidly, brow furrowing in confusion. There's levels to what's happening here. Layers upon layers, melding together with rot and decay and you can all but smell it. But there's something missing, something that would tie all of the wackjob shit that's been happening to you and around you together. It feels like when you have a very particular thought and then walking into another room makes it dissolve from your head. You're trying to grasp for it, to fit the puzzle pieces together, but it's just out of reach.

"Yes. It is. I have a small task I need you to do," Otto starts off, metal phalanges pushing his glasses up onto the top of his head as he looks over at you. For the first time, you can see his eyes in the light. The warm amber feels like a mockery- you have seen his cruelty in action.

"Where did you get this?"

"Does it matter?" Of course he'd say that.

Your fingertips brush against the metaphorical wayward chain link. It's right there. You just have to grab it and pull it back to you, like the anchor of a ship before it can set sail.

He's talking. You aren't listening. He's tracing a finger over the schematics. You don't see it. Realization washes over you in a heart-dropping tsunami. The voicemail you got from Oscorp plays like a broken record in your mind. 'Hello, Y/N. We're calling in regards to your employment status here at Oscorp. Unfortunately, due to a breach of security, we are having to make staffing cuts and are going to have to let you go. We appreciate your time and effort and wish you the best of luck in your next endeavor.' It didn't make sense at the time. A lot of things didn't. You replay the scene of poor David, desperately pleading for his life at the hands of the man hunched over here, just in your living room. You mentally re-run it over and over like bad 80s sitcoms on late night television.

"Lab Coat Guy…"

You don't realize you whispered it out loud until Otto goes silent.

"What?"

You slowly look at him and take a single step backwards, shaking your head. The company embroidered on David's lab coat hadn't been clear to you in the moment- but it's crystal in hindsight. Oscorp. "You got me fired." Your tone is flat, until anger flashes through you, like a streak of lightning through a dark, moonless sky, illuminating all of things that didn’t make sense before.

"It doesn't matter. What I need you to do-" He's so nonchalant, so blasé that it only stokes the embers of frustration until there's a roaring blaze burning beneath your skin. It's all about him, what he needs, what he wants. He has the nerve, the audacity, to keep traipsing into your life, kicking you while you're down and then ask for favors? You want to say all of that to him but unfortunately for you, you're an angry crier. Your outburst of bravery at him the last time you saw each other had surprised even you- but now there's so much more emotion roiling around inside you.

"No. No, no. Fuck you. You got me fired! I can't- I can't not have a job, I have to pay rent! You could get me arrested for just talking to you!" Oscorp had you canned to tie up any potential loose ends before anymore Davids could slip through the cracks. You think about how scared the poor dude must have been, threatened into stealing blueprints from the biggest corporation in the city, for one of the most infamous criminals. You don't know how they found out you were even remotely involved and you don't want to know.

Tears are streaming down your cheeks and once the floodgates have opened you're very familiar with how long it's going to take to close them again. After all you've been bottling this up since you found out, too disappointed to even tell any of your friends or family.

Otto appears taken aback, to say the least. He even looks like he's at a loss for words; that's a first. You know he could kill you where you stand in the blink of an eye, but in that moment you don’t even care. You’ve been trying so hard for so long to get on your feet, to do things for yourself and get away from the past. You moved across the country, you left everything behind, you got a damn dog. It seems like every time you manage to take a step forward in life, you’re knocked flat on your ass, apparently literally sometimes. It isn’t fair. Things don’t come easily to you, you’ve always had to work for them. You aren’t wealthy, you aren’t a supergenius, you’re just… you. The job at Oscorp was good money and you really felt like you were getting your shit together for a while.

“They’re not who you think they are,” he says finally, so calmly, with such carefulness about his words, that you sniffle pathetically and look up at him. He doesn’t look nearly as pleased with himself as you thought he might. And here you’ve been, under the impression that he gets off on hurting people. “Oscorp. I’m not… I’m not just doing this for me. You have to understand that.”

The schematics are furled up and tucked away. You make the mistake of meeting his eyes. Maybe it’s just the tears that blur your vision, but you swear you see a softness there before they’re hidden away again by his glasses.

He lingers at the window.

“I hope you’ll reconsider.” And then he was making his exit, even taking care to gently close the window on the way out. But he raps on the glass with his knuckles from where he stands on the fire escape and you know the look of confusion on your tear-streaked face speaks for itself. Otto points to the latches on the window. ‘Lock it.’ He mouths before he’s gone, presumably to wreak havoc and harass other unsuspecting young women that don’t want anything to do with him.

You thought everything had come together- but the more sense you make of it, the less you seem sure of the bigger picture. You aren't even sure exactly what he wanted you to do.

You’re left with an endless bounty of questions, and not enough answers to satisfy any of them.

#otto octavius x reader #doc ock x reader #fanfiction #otto octavius #doc ock

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lazycheesecakeee · 3 years

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Stray kids as love languages

Ok so I started thinking and that’s never good and somehow this got CHUNKY AF :))) But I hope you enjoy reading my messy thoughts about skz expressing love :)

Bang Chan

Giving: Gifts/Words of affirmation

Yeah SO… we all know how he always seems to always give the closest people to him, like everything, including the moon and a fucking rocket to the moon as well, and build it too, that before he gets anything at all? He is definitely a giver. He buys food, drinks, anything.

Anything you would accomplish, no matter how small would be an excuse for him to go out and buy you a meal and while you are there, if you only happen to glance at something twice, you already have it? Yeah you might feel bad and try to pay or say “stop giving me things all the time” but he would not stop and he would buy you the thing and shower you with praises for how well you did, even if you think it is not such a big deal.

You have a normal day when nothing happened? You go to the store together, he pays. He comes to visit you randomly. On the way he buys a flower and a random chocolate or a drink because he remembers somehow that you said you wanted to try it like 3 months ago. And the list never ends. He has a good sense for what people want too. So if you are close to him he gives you EVERYTHING. Showers of praises and all of his fucking money :)))) BOY HAS NO LIMITS.

Receiving: words of affirmation

Listennnn, as much as he gives and never stops, like NEVER. (Take his credit card away lmaoooo), when you acknowledge his little appreciations and thank him sweetly or give him a hug to let him know you are grateful, he gets immense satisfaction. I feel like he is the one to give but if he feels like he is used in the slightest he definetly cuts the rope short real FUCKING FAST.

I feel like he def is SUCH a sucker for appreciation and words of affirmation AND COMPLIMETS. He wants to feel needed and like his efforts are worth it. And giving him the verbal queue that his efforts don’t go unnoticed, that despite his busy schedule you appreciate the time with him, that his hard work and struggles to be the best are worth it, that the nights in the studio are fruitful and he is doing a good job, THAT would really make his entire day and his anxieties dissipate. Let him know he is wanted. Poor baby someone give him a sleep schedule too and some melatonin :)))))

Lee Know/Minho

Giving: Acts of service

He def strikes as one weird cranky, moody, annoying bitch with his behaviour but if you pay closer attention he is actually so observant and thoughtful/caring. He seems like you would not want to go to him for things but I actually think that if you take the time and grow close to him he is one of the most caring and protective people tbh.

Like it’s in his nature to pay attention to what close ones are doing, their schedules, interests and habits. He is the kind of person to never purposefully say or make a fuss out of doing something but somehow he knows you need something or you want something. And he buys the thing and puts it in the fridge. Or changes the sheets because he feels you are too sad and unmotivated and that would be good. Or buys something definitely because “he wanted it” but gets more, and a side of the thing you like a lot, because “it was there”, definitely not because he thought of you and that it would bring you joy. Or he would like pick a prescription for you or refill your water bottle before leaving or tell you to bring band-aids because you complained those shoes hurt you. Or tell me this boy would not chop the onions for the pasta sauce so you don’t ruin your mascara (I am not sobbing you are). And he somehow fits himself in and things add up so well and your life is so much easier despite him claiming he „did nothing”.

Receiving: Words of affirmation

Although it doesn’t seem like it, something tells me it’s true. I read on an internet thing that people that seem cold and don’t want/seem to have the need for verbal affirmation and validation from strangers get actually more satisfaction from it than people who say it explicitly.

He also def strikes me like he was raised to be tough, to recover fast, to not be a cry baby and just get up and do the job, suck it up, be strong and independent. A little bit of trust issues into the mix as well ☹ You can actually kinda see a sort of anxious behaviour type of thing in him. So I feel like if you actually grow closer to him (ahem Jisung), acknowledging his efforts and how he makes your life easier, THAT would bring out the asshole being like “oh really? Hm interesting you think I do so much for you huh?” but he actually does thooo and you saying it would bring him like so much joy and make his heart happy.

Like each time you give him a compliment TM he would act like “yeah I know” or act disgusted but high key it soothes his spirit and ego when you say such things. He just loooves to hear how much you loved something he cooked or how attractive he was while dancing or how he was really thoughtful, and you appreciate it sm. He seems to have the nature to give, and he seems to expect to go unnoticed but when and if you do acknowledge his heart is actually swooning over it.

Changbin

Giving: Physical touch/Gifts

I think he would be the type to bring weird things to you for no reason along with 1000 kisses and a hug that is a bit too tight you know? Like his mind gets occupied with you if you are close.

And like he saw this weird card at the store or a little figurine or something which has a weird patters and he thought “Hm they must see this. They would like this strange ass thing I bought which was overpriced”. And when he gives you the thing you give like an odd smile and in your eyes is a „love you but wtf is this” and he would take your hands and look down and kiss them and say “I don’t know i thought you might like it?” And you would tease each other and he would start doing ayego and get really shy and just hug you again and place his head in your neck to avoid the eye contact, then lift you up and spin you and from there you have no chances of escaping the embrace TM.

Receiving: Physical touch

I feel like he would be a sucker for physical touch as your love language as well. If you reciprocate hugs, kisses and stuff. You know he seems like the kind to find comfort in holding you for no reason, like a hand on the knee or on your waist and if you two are comfy and give him little pets, stroke his hair, place your hand on his shoulder or biceps or take his hand with both yours or grab his middle randomly, he would swoon. Also you clinging to him and letting him cling to you I think is like thing he wishes for most tbh:) I feel like he feels safety and love by holding onto you and you onto him like he can protect you. He would like to know you trust him with that, ya know? Like he is a strong bitch ready to fight anyone coming at you and can protect you but is also your smol koala child which you can never escape.

Hyunjin

Giving: physical touch

Now this might seem weird to you BUT. He seems like he touches people out of nowhere sometimes and kinda clings. Not like all the time but enough. Like he likes being really close to you if he is close to you, you know?. He would be all up in your face with his weird ass mannerisms and humour but if they are reciprocated and he feels safe and good around you he naturally starts to cling if that makes sense? Like in a way a sort of telling others: “mine, you cannot have them before me” but also in the sense that you know he would do anything for you if you ask in those instances. Like YO, you have me, soul and body next to you, I am here :)))

Like he doesn’t seem like the type to buy things a lot (cheap ass I see you :)))) although he would sometimes) But he makes up by being there and encouraging you despite not knowing how to act or what to say all the time, he lets you know you can count on him and he is there. I feel like his touch expresses appreciation.

Receiving: words of affirmation/quality time

He strikes me as attention demanding lmao:)) OH I am yours pay attention to me I am your baby I require love and affection, undivided.

So if you make time to have lunch with him or have conversations before bed in peace (my dude seems like his thoughts overwhelm him all the time and honestly same :/ it’s kinda yikes tbh), or watch a movie/tv show, or just be in his presence when he is both excited or down, and listen to him rant and give him solutions or rant with him about random subjects and jumping around between them subjects, you would get all the uwus and he would probably be ready to dedicate his entire existence to your well being and desires.

He is just like that, a dramatic ass with overly changing emotions who wants a good connection, like a genuine one, where hours go by and someone truly understands him and things flow, ya know? (seems like the type to believe in fate type of love, which I find interesting)

Han Jisung

Giving: Physical touch/ Words of affirmation

He seems really touchyyyyy TM. But like in the way that shows physical affection because he seems a little insecure? That is kinda what he strikes me as. Like he wants to hold you. He wants to show you have him. He wants to be appreciated :( my child (and bias) help me I am sobbing:))) and he wants to make sure you know he appreciates you just as much.

Like he would hold your hand, hug you a lot or place random kisses and linger in those places? An he would compliment you and tell you your work is amazing and that he is proud and he would make lots of idiotic jokes to cheer you up, no matter the mood (we stan crackhead humour in this household) and he would tell you the most random shit he likes about you. Like “I like your socks” or “you changed your bag” or “the perfume is oddly floral just like your shirt and I like it”.

And he would make random short freestyle raps (kill me now I am in too deep) about you or a random thing you are doing. And he would just linger around you when you are busy and can’t give him attention. He wants to show trust and love through little gestures and trusts you to see them as a sign of his love because you make him happy and all.

Receiving: ALSO Physical touch/words of affirmation idk

I feel like he would like physical touch back? Like he would be fine if you didn’t like it, but like since he is like anxious and (to me) seems like a little overly aware of his “flaws and deficiencies”, he would like to know he has your “hold”. Like some sort of security type of thing.

Like small gestures, your hand on him, a little kiss, a hug, a squish :))), a little grip of reassurance and a nod of “you are doing good”. I think he would be a sucker for that. And also despite him lowkey rejecting your compliments like “yeah I know I am the best”, giving it to him would boost his self-esteem a lot, as I think he has many insecurities and quite a few complexes that are hard to express for him. So that, along with your touch and words to reassure him, he would love and get the idea that you want him close too, that he’s desired enough for you to seek his love, something like “you my dude are seen and loved for who you are”.

Felix

Giving: Giving gifts/Physical touch

He is defiantly a giver. He literally seems like he is so thoughtful and cares so much. Like we all know how his fellow members said he is great at gifts. Well duh. I feel like his gifts are not always big but like a small food or drink he brings because he knows you always love it, a flower he saw in the front of a flower shop he thought was pretty. Something you said you needed (or you didn’t say) but he knows you do need it because he just pays that much attention. A pendant necklace. A ring. A small ice-cream because the day is hot so why not. A donut that had flower sprinkles because you like to post aesthetic foods and so on. You name it. They would not be obnoxious, but it would sure show how much you are occupying his thoughts.

We also always know how he is attached to the hip to the people he is close to and he loves skinship. He said he loves back hugs, hugs, kisses he wants it all:)) So he gives plenty of cuddles for sure. You can never escape the octupus arms as you go to sleep each night, so might as well set up the air conditioning in your house as it’s about to get warm but affection and love above all, right? :)))))))

Receiving: Words of affirmation/Physical touch

I think he thrives if you return his little ministrations of affection. Does it matter? A hug, a kiss, holding him, a little massage, hand size comparison, throwing yourself on top of him on the couch or the bed at the end of the day. He LOVES it. You are also competing with Chan lol but no worries, he has plenty affections for all:))

Also I think he needs reassurance and a sense that people that are closest are proud of what he is doing(wipe your tears bitch). So I think acknowledging his hard work and the fact that he pulls through despite certain mental heath problems and telling him he does an amazing job and complementing his work would definitely mean a lot to him.

But give the boy your affection, A VerY tOucHy BoI. It makes his heart swell with joy knowing you pull him close and feel so much love for him that you don’t hold back from giving. Be an octopus with him tambien😊

Seungmin

Giving: Acts of service

Another one for acts of service. Our smol good boi which somehow does not seem smol at all because he exudes maturity and rationality lmao.

He would be such a servant if he loves you. AND YOU WOULD NOT EVEN NOTICE at first. Like I feel like he does stuff in a way similar to Minho where he makes sure your life is as easy as can be. Like puts your shoes out of the way, checks the weather so you don’t leave dressed inappropriately (forces you to take the puffier jacket despite it not going with your outfit, because “do you want to catch a cold, hm?”), gives you an umbrella. Fixes a random necklace which you broke by accident because he knows it will sit there for like 3 years if it’s in your care, and you like the necklace 😊. Makes sure you eat something healthy too(would definitely bring you washed and cut-up fruits after going out to eat at mcdonalds). And he for sure does not expect you to really notice, but if you do he is getting flustered and runs out the room with a big smile😊 what a baby tm.

Receiving: Acts pf service

I feel like he would appreciate most if you also took time out of your day to ease his life too. I feel like he would feel such relief and happiness and his heart would swell with affection and appreciation if you took on one of his (no matter how insignificant) tasks. Like he would be in a rush to leave and you woke up earlier before work to make him a coffee. Or when he comes home late you already put his clothes on the bed and prepared a bath. Or getting up and asking for extra napkins if he was not given any, or simply asking how can you make his day better. I feel like being helpful and listening and paying close attention to him would be what makes him happiest.

I.N./Jeongin:

Giving: Quality time/Gifts

He gets awkward when he tries to express feelings with words and is def not the most fond of skinship. However, I think if you were close he would be an amazing listener and sit with you and you could both share and grow together so much. He would give you the feeling he is ready to listen and be with you if you need him.

That and also I feel like when you are out and about it makes him feel good to know he can buy you things you can enjoy, and you are appreciative of them and he has that power to brighten your day and be a mature adult by buying you things, despite not really needing them sometimes.

Receiving: Quality time/Words

You know how he struggled a bit with the dancing at first and you know how the other members say that he does nothing when someone criticizes him, he just goes out of his way to fix his “mistakes”? And also in Vlive when he said he doesn’t like to watch his own fancams because all he sees are his mistakes? My baby seems to have a bit (quite some) of an imposter syndrome and since he is young and everyone teases him, although with love, I feel like it gets a bit uncomfortable and tough. He seems he just wants to keep up, and be the best at what he does but it gets tough when you have to catch up with people who have been doing the thing for many more years than you and you are struggling with your feelings and figuring things out as you grow within a demanding contract. So I think someone to listen to his worries and give him undivided attention without judgement and put in their input without being intrusive would be the most amazing thing to him. That, along with compliments and acknowledgement of his efforts, telling him that he is doing GOOD and you are proud (although he might think that you are just saying it, since he seems to only see ways he needs to improve) would be good at raising his self esteem and encourage him to continue with his hard efforts.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz #stray kids fanfic #stray kids au #skz imagines #skz scenarios #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #felix #seungmin #jeongin #love langauges

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babyboiboyega · 3 years

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Free Write #1

Free Write

Mar 24th, 2021 1:45 AM

Ahsoka x reader

Babyboiboyega’s Star Wars Masterlist

Babyboiboyega’s Masterlist of Masterlists

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

Your laugh rang through the hallways as you walked alongside Hera, her laugh accompanying yours. After a number of years of knowing and working alongside Hera, the two of you were only just now starting to become friends. It’s not like the two of you weren’t friends, it’s just that in the middle of a war, “friends” was not something easy to come by. The few friends you did have had been your friends before the fall of the Order.

But now, as you walked alongside Hera, actually getting to know her, you could already sense a new friendship forming.

“So, Kanan is hanging on for dear life and - Hey, Ahsoka!”

Your eyes snapped up from where they had been watching your steps only to come face to face with a pair of violet eyes. If it hadn’t been for the mention of her name that stopped you, it would’ve been the underlying look of… trepidation on her face.

“Hey there, Hera, Y/N. Hera, Captain Soto has asked for you to meet him on the bridge. He wants to talk to you about the new ships and the developmental stages.”

From the corner of your eye, you could see Hera nod quickly, and you heard her as she made her leave, but your gaze never left Ahsoka’s face. Her gaze, on the other hand, hadn’t even landed on you...even after Hera had left, until finally, it did. Her glance lasted less than a second, and then she was walking past you. You turned and fell into step beside her without hesitation.

“Where are you coming from?” Instead of the usual, where Ahsoka would eagerly go into the details of her day and where she had been, she remained silent for a few seconds. It made your head whip around to face her, eyebrows immediately furrowing in worry.

No doubt feeling your gaze on the side of her face, she finally glanced your way. It didn’t last long, but just long enough for you to see how her forehead was scrunched up. You had known Ahsoka well enough and long enough to know when something was bothering her, and it was clear that that was the case.

“I’m coming from a briefing.” Her words were short and they didn’t hold the usual enthusiasm and color as they usually did...especially when she spoke to you. You had wanted to reach down and take her hand, but her short words prompted you to change your mind.

“Are you okay? You seem… not yourself.” You restrained yourself from cringing at the clunkiness of your own words and focused your gaze on the side of her face. She stubbornly kept her head facing forward, but you could see the minuscule glances she gave from the corner of her eye.

“I’m fine. I’ve just...been busy, that’s all.” That was the only response she offered.

It was silent between you two as you followed her down the hall. You had opted to stay silent, your gaze facing forward; despite this, you still made sure she was visible in your peripheral as you matched her steps.

When it became clear that she was heading for the mess hall, you only became a little more confused. As you two walked more in the direction of the mess hall, you could only run through the previous events of the day; at least the events that had led up to you seeing Ahsoka.

You weren’t sure what face you were making as you thought about anything that could have potentially rubbed Ahsoka the wrong way; hell, you weren’t even aware that you were making a face in the first place. It was only after you saw Ahsoka glance your way, her gaze lingering just a bit longer, did you shake yourself out of your thoughts.

“What is it?” Her voice didn’t hold its usual cheeriness as when she talked to you, but her question was still sincere. You quickly cleared your throat and responded.

“Uh, nothing. Just trying to figure out if I did something wrong. Did I do something wrong?”

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them, but you had no desire to disregard them once they were out. If you had done something wrong, you wanted nothing more than to find out what it was and fix it.

“‘Wrong’? No...not exactly.”

Ahsoka’s vague answer only made your eyebrows furrow even more. Offering vague and cryptic answers was a very Ahsoka, and Jedi, thing to do, but Ahsoka had never offered them to you before. She had always told you exactly what she was thinking, and vice versa with your thoughts; it had always cleared up any miscommunication, and it had done so from since before you two were friends. It continued through your friendship and into the subtle but meaningful and genuine relationship between you two now.

“Ahsoka, you’re doing that cryptic message thing. If I did something wrong, please just tell me so I can-”

“I didn’t know you and Hera were close.”

She had stopped abruptly as she spoke, luckily in the middle of a relatively empty hallway. Now facing each other in the middle of the hall, you could see the subtle ticks that indicated Ahsoka’s reluctance to approach a topic, something that rarely happened.

“We aren’t. We only started talking to one another on our last mission.”

It was true. You had been on countless missions with Hera and her crew, but there had never been time to actually sit down and befriend the pilot, until your most recent mission. It was a recon mission where most of your time was spent sitting in a hidden building, eyes peeled and roaming over the village for anything that pertained to the mission. When nothing was happening, you and she exchanged stories about friends and fellow rebel fighters. It was that simple.

“Oh. Well...you two seemed pretty close today. Sorry I had to interrupt.”

Instead of responding, you simply kept your gaze connected with hers, your eyes narrowing slightly. You couldn’t help the small smile from appearing on your face as your mind finally caught up to exactly what was happening.

“If I didn’t know any better...I’d say that you’re jealous.”

At your words, Ahsoka’s eyes widened almost comically. She shook her head quickly before turning back to face the empty hallway and continuing her trek. You hurried to catch up with her, the smile still curling the corners of your mouth.

“I’m not...jealous.” The word left her mouth in a way that directly contradicted her statement. It was your turn to shake your head. Reaching out, your hand gently landed on her arm before you pulled her to a stop. She almost hesitantly turned back around to face you, and despite the smile still being on your face, your words were sincere as you spoke.

“Okay, look,” you took a step forward as your hand slid down to grasp her hand, “jealous or not, I promise there’s nothing you need to worry about. I wouldn’t even dream of being with someone that isn’t you. Hera is a good person, but you’re a good person and the person for me, as I’m the person for you, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

As she listened to your words, the worried crease in her forehead gradually disappeared until the only look on her face was one of adoration. You didn’t doubt that your face mirrored her’s.

“I know. And I feel the exact same way...maybe even a little more.” The smile that slowly curved her lips only made yours widen. Your head shook once again as you both turned, fingers still interlocked, and started once again down the hallway.

“Mmm, I beg to differ.”

*******

It is currently 1:47 AM, I’ve taken my melatonin, aaaaaaand here’s a free write/drabble!

I really hope that y’all are staying safe out there. <3

#Ahsoka #Ahsoka Tano #ahsoka tano x reader #ahsoka tano imagines #ahsoka tano drabbles #ahsoka tano x you #ahsoka tano oneshot #star wars #star wars masterlist #star wars imagines #star wars drabbles #Star Wars oneshots #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #the clone wars imagines #star wars rebels #star wars rebels imagines #star wars rebels oneshots

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oh-styles · 4 years

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Something About a Beginning: Part II

First off, I want to thank each and every one of you for your immense patience. (More so than others, but I digress.) Writing on such topics when you yourself aren’t in the most healthiest mentality is a struggle alone, but we got here.

Second off, if you haven’t read the first part, you can so here. These chapters implicate bouts of depression and talks of miscarriage, so read at your own will.

I do want to note that I mention Robin in this story, and I was hesitant to include him because I felt it wasn’t appropriate, because he shouldn’t be used as entertainment purposes (i.e. in stories) but I mention him only with love and respect.

Again, thank you for your patience, and happy reading.

July 3, 2019 London, England

Harry lost his girl.

She vanished in the night – gone with the wind – and all that remained was a ghost of a woman, transparent and bleak. He hasn’t seen her smile since that night, coming close to a week now, and his gut retches at the thought he might never get his girl back.

She’s buried herself in the sheets; the window is opened a crack, and he spots an empty bottle of melatonin laying overturned on her bedside table. He stares intently at her body, watching as the sheets rise and fall to the pattern of her placid breathing, and he thinks for a moment that she’s finally found herself a better place. Not dead—not by any means. Whatever dream world she has found herself delved in, he knows she might have found a sliver of peace there, hopefully smiling.

“She’s sleeping, mum.” Harry says into his phone, taking a step back to gently close the bedroom door. “Rande and Cindy invited us to Muskoka but…” His words hung in the air, like the elephant in the room, but his mother knew all too well what was lingering on the precipice of her sons’ tongue.

But she’s too depressed.

But she can’t go a day without crying.

But I don’t think she has the energy to leave the house.

It’s been four days since the attack, and Harry hasn’t seen her take a step outside of their bedroom.

“Love, she’s wasting away in there. It might help her a little to get out, get some sun…”

“Mum, I can’t even get her to sit in the fucking garden.” He can hear his mother’s nettled sigh on the other end of the line, but how can anyone expect him to put her on a mother fucking airplane if she can’t even bother to walk the 30 meters to the fucking garden? “The sodding paps were outside the house last night.”

“They can’t—”

“I’m aware.” He begins to descend his way down the stairs, stopping to peer out from the front window – an old, worn out habit. “I think it’s best we get away for a bit. The story hasn’t died down… I think it’ll help—getting away. They won’t bother us there.”

Harry knew your answer before he even had the chance to ask; he knew he was wasting his time in even suggesting such a thing, but the guilt would eat away at him if he didn’t even try.

“Muskoka…Canada, remember? We went there last year.” He sat at the edge of the bed, running a hand over the sheets where a peek of your shoulder laid exposed. “It’ll be quiet. Nobody there to bug us. If you want to just hang out in the hotel room the whole time, I’d be fine with that. It’s just…”

I can’t stand to see you burrowed away another day.

“I’m really worried about you… I’m just trying to help.” He was powerless, and he knew it. He couldn’t take her by the arm and force her on a plane, but god forbid he try his damned hardest. “No paps, nobody. I promise. I wouldn’t take you there if it wasn’t safe.”

He feels a stir beneath him, and from underneath the covers, a small hand inches outward and lays upward, a silent plea for intimacy—a piece of familiarity he hasn’t touched in days. He reaches out and clasps her hand in his, and readjusts himself to lay beside her.

“You can think about it. I don’t need an answer this second, but give it a day or two, okay?”

He sees her nod, and her eyes blink open to meet his, only for a second, before they are closed once again for the remainder of the night.

July 6, 2019 Ontario, Canada

Muskoka came and went. Nothing advantageous to really capture your attention, though you kept your head nestled low in a book for most of your stay. You tossed a couple Stephen King novels into your bags without much thought, and by the time your trip was coming to an end, you had already completed one and started another.

A photo made its rounds online of you at dinner with Harry, Rande and Cindy, and even thinking back to that night, you couldn’t recount a time where you felt a pair of eyes boring at your table. You think it might be because you paid more attention to the drink menu than your friends, but you digressed. They only saw the back of your head, and not even the photographer mentioned you. You were also mistaken for Kaia on a couple occasions.

After Muskoka, you were back in London, and not much later Harry would be jetting off to Italy for Google Camp, and a few days after that, he was set to fly to Mexico for a video shoot. He was redundant to go, and even called Jeff to see if they could reschedule, but that would cause a delay for the next video they’d film only a week later. He asked if you wanted to join him, and you kindly declined. You were much aware of his past video sets, and how common it was to see photos and videos leaked online, and you were far from interested to be included.

You were much happier to find yourself under the watchful eyes of Anne Twist.

“I can meet you in Scotland if I’m feeling up to it.” You knew it was a scorching lie crawling right off your tongue, but if it meant he carried some hope with him, then you would feed him whatever white lies you could muster. Even Anne knew better than to believe you.

“I think Canada was good for you, love, but you need some rest, too. Can’t be travelling all over the bloody world, now, can you?”

It was a nice feeling to know she had your back.

In another life would a little green monster be envious of missing such a trip to Cancun, but the only desires you had were sitting in Anne’s garden being force fed a steady cup a tea and a plate of biscuits.

Anne didn’t pry; she knew well what you needed, but she would be keeping her sons promise on keeping you safe, and she knew there was no safer place for you to be.

It was August now, and the heat felt suffocating. You and Anne spent your mornings walking to the bakery her son once worked in, grabbing a quick breakfast before heading to the park. You would pick off pieces of your croissant and toss it at the squirrels, but you almost always scared them off. Anne told stories of when Harry was a child, and how he once tried to tell her Gemma was a drug dealer.

“She was only a child,” she hummed, laughing into her coffee. “But he was always a character to have around.”

“I feel like…between you and me, right?” You could hear in the distance the sound of a goose honking and a group of children wailing, running away. “I just…don’t want to upset him.”

Anne reached over and took your hand in hers. “Anything you say is always safe with me, love.”

“I’m mad he left me here.” There was a short beat, but you could feel your throat close, and that anger begin to well up in your chest. “This…this is also…”

“I know, love.” She scooted closer, squeezing your hand. “Everyone has their own ways of dealing with grief. Harry isn’t good at sitting around… Even when Robin passed, he didn’t like to sit. He needed to go do something.”

You remember, and yet you still recall him lying on his mother’s couch in tears. You don’t think he’s cried since the two of you left the hospital a couple weeks ago.

“He loves you, darling. He calls me every day to check in on you. Don’t think for a second he doesn’t care.”

Even with her words, you felt something was missing.

Harry was only in Scotland for a couple days before he was finally home, but it wouldn’t be long before he would be venturing off to Italy – again – for another work-related conquest. You weren’t sure why he was so content with country hopping every couple of weeks instead of resting at home with you, but you didn’t bother bludgeoning him with questions.

“After I’m through with Italy—I won’t even be there a day—I’ll be back home, but a couple weeks later, I have to go to LA for some meetings… I’d like you to come, if that’s okay.”

Again. There’s always something. It must be so fucking difficult to stay in one place for more than a couple weeks with your grieving girlfriend.

“Also…I was meaning to ask you. Ariana is in town in a few days… Wanted to know if you wanted to come with me and the guys… I think it’ll be fun.”

“Your child died a month ago and you want to go to a fucking Ariana Grande concert.” The words fell helplessly from you, but it was weeks of anguish and neglect that hit its final tier, and you were quite tired of hanging on. “Tell me….how does that make sense to you?”

“Excuse me?” For the first time that night, he looked at you. All before, he found excuses to shift his glances to anything but you, maybe in fear of reality finally hitting him in the face with what he’s been running from for weeks, but for the first time that night, he bared his eyes down at you, and his mouth fell open.

“I’m sorry—have I been hallucinating you just picking your shit up and leaving every chance you get?”

“I’ve had work—” He took to his feet, swiftly flinging his hand out to close the lid of his luggage.

“Any normal person—I swear, any normal person would stay home, and fucking grieve, except you, who wants to fucking fly everywhere and work, because that would require facing his fucking prob—”

“I have a job—I know it’s hard for you to relate to that, but I have commitments—”

“And what am I then? If not a commitment, then what, Harry?”

“You are a commitment—”

“Then where have you been? Why have I been staying with your mother? I know you invited me to go with you, but I shouldn’t have to. I’m fucking hurting, Harry! I don’t want to go to Cancun and Italy—I want to be here with you. Do you know how fucking hard it’s been dealing with this without you here?”

For once, he was silent, but he shifted on his feet.

“You haven’t cried. Not since the hospital. I can’t count how many times I’ve cried, and you sit around texting your band or going to video shoots… If you feel nothing—no grief or anything…if you didn’t even want the baby, just tell me. Make this easier on me, please.”

“How the fuck can you say that I didn’t want the baby? My heart is fucking hurt!”

“Then act like it!”

“You really think I can sit around every day and watch you fall apart? I have to be the strong one… If it can’t be you, then it has to be me, and I don’t like watching you hurt.”

“You know…you sometimes have a really shitty way showing people you care about them.”

You stood there, arms folded in resistance, and he couldn’t take his eyes from off the floor. He felt cornered, and he was defenseless with nothing else left to give. His bags still laid on the bed, clothes scattered over the sheets ready to be put up, and you knew this room was no place for you. Your purse was downstairs, and your phone in your pocket.

“I’m going to stay with Gemma tonight. I’ll have her pick me up. Please don’t follow me out.”

She’s always been the quiet one.

The first time she met you, at a family gathering you were reluctant to attend despite the persistent reassurance from your other half, she knew from the moment she saw you that you were different from all the others. You held yourself different, much shorter, like you knew you could never become the center of attention.

You studied the room, holding onto Harry’s hand as he introduced you to his mother, and that’s when Gemma appeared from over her mother’s shoulder.

“About time I meet you,” she chuckled, reaching her hand out. “I’m Gemma.”

She watches you now from the edge of the driveway, sitting on the steps of the porch with only the light above you illuminating your surroundings. From behind you, she spotted the silhouette of her brother peeking through the curtains, keeping a close eye for just in case.

Your track record wasn’t a good one.

As she approaches, you perk your head up with a sigh of relief. For the first time, she was the Styles you nothing but needed.

“Come on, Magoo,” she chirps as she finally reaches you, lifting her hand out for you to take. “We can hit the McDonald’s drive-thru.”

Laura Nyro played over her car stereo, a melodious tune you recall hearing once before on a long drive in Cheshire. You shut your eyes, and the memory floods you like a storm, like a stampede parading across your chest, and you lean over to rest your head on the window.

Gemma reached her hand over to find yours, giving it three squeezes of solace.

I. Love. You.

The cut that was tucked away in your hairline was in its last stages of healing, and a scar would most certainly take its place. You always felt the erratic throbbing, like a little reminder that no matter how far you run, your problems will always be chasing you like the devil.

“Did I make a mistake?”

Gemma turned her attention from the road, lifting your hand up with hers, and planting a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“No, Magoo. I’m sorry to tell you, but you’re dating a dumbass.” She heard a muted hum in response. “Nobody is perfect… Not even that shithead. I can see where he thought what he was doing was okay, because he was sacrificing his feelings for you, but… that’s just not how you do it.”

You could drink to that.

Gemma spotted the golden arches and took a left at the light. “I’m glad you texted me… Haven’t had a bloody girl’s night in ages. It sucks under the circumstances but…” She turned back to you with a wink. “I’ll take what I can get.”

On the journey back to her flat, you pleasantly sipped at your chocolate milkshake and tapped your feet to the music, and even sporadically hummed along to the few chords you knew. It really didn’t take much to please you.

Gemma was never gifted a sister as a child. Though, she did want one, and was thoroughly distraught when her mother brought home a brother all those years ago, she did grow accustomed and grew to love the curly haired boy who she would then share with the world. But the girl beside her, who slurped her drink and choked behind a laugh of a joke about a time traveler who walks into a bar, had burrowed herself deep within her heart, much like she does with any counterpart she meets.

It’s incredibly difficult not to meet this girl and not hold some sort of placement in her life. Her heart is massive, but the love she radiates is gracious and touches anyone who dares get too close.

And the love Gemma has for her is just as the same.

Michal was asleep when the two of you arrived; you knew your way around, and confidently walked to the spare room down the hall, last door on the right. Gemma trailed behind you, holding your milkshake as you flipped on the light, and kicked off your shoes.

Olivia was already sprawled out over the comforter.

“Could you stay with me, tonight?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice, babe.” Gemma smirked, setting your drink down on the bedside table. “Have you ate?”

You shook your head, even trying to recall if you had mustered an appetite to have some breakfast, but even then you think you took a couple bites out of an apple and forgot about it.

“I’ll make you something—actually, Michal and I have spinach ravioli left over… Want me to heat some of that up for you?”

You graciously nodded. “You’re too good for me.”

“I just love you is all.”

The next morning, the spot beside you was visibly vacant, and from down the hall you could vaguely hear a low, sullen voice talking over the sound of the television. Gemma fired back in response, and from your feet, Olivia peeked her head from the covers, turning towards the disrupting noise.

“Let her sleep—she’s exhausted—”

“Just give me five bloody minutes!”

You knew any chance of sleep you wish you had was far gone.

“I’m up—just fucking talk!” You hollered into your pillow, your eyes still adjusting to the sunlight cascading into the room. You could guess it wasn’t any later than nine that morning, and before you had a moment to check, his unquestionable footsteps neared your door, and you heard a light tap. “I’m obviously awake.”

After you walked out the night before, he ignored your wishes and followed you downstairs where the shortest reaction he got from you was the front door slamming in his face.

“Can I talk?”

I don’t know, can you?

“You literally came here and woke me up from some incredible sleep, mind you, and you’re asking me if you can talk.” He was in a blind panic and darted his eyes around the room. “Well, talk.”

“I’m a fucking twat, I know this. It’s inexcusable what I did—what I put you through—it was selfish—I’m so fucking selfish—I can’t fucking deal with this kind of stuff, and I’m a bloody twat for leaving you because I can’t handle it. It’s cowar—I’m a coward! I can’t face shit—and I love you so much, and I left you… I’m so sorry, please believe me. I’m such a twat—"

“Shut up, please—you’re giving me a migraine.” You held up a single finger as you adjusted yourself in bed. “Look, I don’t even know how early it is, and you know how much I hate mornings.”

“I know, but…I didn’t want to wait until the afternoon to talk to you.”

“That’s fair.”

“It’s 10:30 by the way.”

“Did you practice that speech in your car, or did you just wing it?”

While you were in bed with Gemma, watching King of the Hill on her iPad, Harry resided to his office where he spent much of the evening hunched over his journal, scrawling out endless messages to you about how much of a wanker he is, and by the time the sun began to rise, he had his eyes in his hand and began waiting for an appropriate time to come and see you.

“I…thought a little bit about it, yeah.”

“You really hurt me, alright? It’s not something I can just forget because you said you were sorry. When I needed you the most, you weren’t there. What kind of partner is that?” He stood silent in his spot; his hands dug deep into his trousers. Suddenly, he was a little boy again getting scolded by his mother. “I had your mom, I had Gemma, but not you. The only person I needed. I get this wasn’t part of the plan, and we got our hearts broken, but that doesn’t give you the right to run off because you can’t handle seeing me upset.”

Olivia stretched her limbs out over the covers, purring against the sheets.

“I appreciate you coming, I really do. This isn’t something I can just forget and move on from. I want to work on this, but it’s going to take time… I still love you though.”

September 19, 2019 Los Angeles, California

“Your shirt looks like amebae under a microscope.”

He stifled a grunt, looking down at his shirt with concentration, and every so subtly did you see him glance swiftly at the bathroom mirror. “I’m surprised you even know what ameba are.”

“Or it looks like those eye floaties you get, but…colorful, you know?”

“Will you stop bullying me?”

“Only when you tell me how much you paid for that shirt.”

For a second, and you saw it flash through his eyes, he considered telling you, but figured that was a fight for a different afternoon. His silence was all the answer you needed. You nodded and left the room.

He found himself eminently lucky that you even agreed to accompany him to Los Angeles, but it was under the one condition that he takes you to In-N-Out whenever you oh so politely asked. Though, after you harassed him over his attire that morning, he was undecided to change his mind.

He didn’t.

You did, however, apologize and say he looked like a sexy ameba, and he then locked you out of the car for five minutes.

To be fair, you only accepted his offer to travel with him because you missed your friends, and they were the one thing that remained untouched from the summer. You felt the emptiness being carried with you with every passing day, and all the books and websites said that was normal, but finding distractions and hobbies to pass the time was coming close to becoming a sport – way too laborious for you.

You even found yourself searching “Losing interest in things I used to like” and you were considerably shocked to discover the rabbit hole Google led you down.

You didn’t consider yourself depressed, not by any means. Sure, you were sad most of the day, you never really gained your appetite back, you stopped painting and watching King of the Hill and Breaking Bad, and if you didn’t spend the entire day sleeping, you would lay in bed with your eyes closed, praying you would eventually grow tired enough to slip away for a little while.

Harry even signed you both up for couple’s therapy.

“This is for people who cheated on each other and refuse to break up!”

But regardless of your inherent fussing, he refused to back down. Where the two of you stood mentally, this was your last chance at redemption, and he wasn’t letting you back out. The way he saw it, if you didn’t make an effort to try and fix what was broken, there was no hope for the relationship moving forward.

That was when you realized the outcome was more than just losing your baby.

After the first session, you made an appointment with your physician, who later prescribed not only you with anti-depressants, but Harry as well. Your world was spinning madly, in every which direction, but at least you had your boy holding on madly with you.

The first time you encountered a fan since the summer happened on that very first outing in Los Angeles when you and Harry were arriving for your lunch plans. (Not In-N-Out, but you let it go.) If it had been solely one girl, you trust that you could easily fight her off if given the opportunity. I mean, sure, you didn’t fight off that other girl, but she had the upper hand, or so you tell yourself.

But, no, she was with a group, and you felt the urge to vomit.

“I’m going to throw up—” You propel yourself in the other direction, ready to sprint back to the parking lot, and thinking back on it now, you can’t even remember the last time you even sprinted. “Let me sit in the car—let’s get the food to go—I don’t care—”

This is why we should have fucking gone to In-N-Out.

“Pet—you can’t run forever, okay? I know it’s fucking scary, but you have to face this one day.” You remember the exact quote Harry was reciting from the therapist, just with less profanity. “I won’t let them do shit, alright?”

They did stop him, of course, and you took a few steps away so they could have their moment, but you made sure he was still an arm grab away incase—

“Hey,” You had disregarded the voice, opening a game on your phone – Numberzilla – before you registered someone had spoken to you. “I’m sorry to bother you…”

At first glance, you could easily discern she was unsure of herself. She likely had a rush of confidence, and now standing blankly in front of you, she has lost all certainty. From behind, you peered up to find Harry staring at the back of her head, already inching into his pocket for his keys.

“Oh,” you gulp, clutching your phone in your hands. “Hi…”

“I just…was just hoping that you were doing okay.”

Doing okay, because of—

Your heart thudded to a stop.

“You alright?” Harry was at your side, and the young girl took a step back.

“Sorry—I’m sorry.” She gave a weak smile. “I just wish the best for you two.”

She was already walking off when you mustered up the words to thank her, but you were doubtful she heard you. Harry’s arm was in a tight grip around your backside, with his keys hung in his hand, ready to run.

The two of you cancelled your lunch plans and hit In-N-Out instead.

September 24, 2019 Los Angeles, California

“Is it okay?”

It was a Tuesday; you had a clear agenda for the day, and it was a little after lunch that you found yourself aimlessly clicking through channels, with your boyfriend sitting down by your feet, flipping through the pages of your current read.

You had felt the undeniable ache since the night before, and you thought maybe if you just ignore it, it’ll go away, but it only lingered, taunting you with its insatiable lust.

The itch you don’t want to scratch.

Your heart was racing, your palms were sweaty, and it didn’t matter how tightly you squeezed your legs together, nothing could rid you of this.

“H,” You poked his leg with your toe. “Bear with me on this, okay?” He didn’t respond, but he carefully set your book back down on the coffee table. “Will you have sex with me real quick?”

“I…you want to?”

“Do you have condoms? Because if not, I can take care of this myself—”

“Yes, yes, I have them. I have—they’re upstairs.”

And there you were, minutes later, his cock was inside of you, and he slowly rolled his hips carefully into you, dipping his toes into the water. He physically cannot express how much this meant to him, and how long he hid this desire deep in his gut, because God forbid he be the one to bring it up. If he had to wank off in the bathroom in between commercial breaks until you decided you were ready to have sex again, he’d find a way to tolerate it.

“Is it okay?” He choked out in between breaths; only minutes in, and he was cradling dangerously on the edge.

“Yeah—yeah, it’s okay. It feels good.” You readjusted your hips, stretching your leg out to wrap around his. “Maybe a little faster?”

“I’ll cum in a second—” He shook his head, halting his movements when that tiny, little knot inched closer to unravelling. “Just give me a sec.”

“Babe—”

“Hold—” He reached his arm under the bend of your knee, lifting it up as he thrusted back into you. “Fuck—”

He was relentless; you stretched your hand down between your thighs, rubbing and kneading that small bundle of nerves as his cock hit deep within you with no sign of letting up.

It had been way too long.

“Harry—fuck—” It was deep, pulsating, and you lifted your hips up as your orgasm radiated throughout your every limb, tightening around his cock as he thrusted hard, giving you one last nudge of pleasure as his grip tightened around the sheets, fucking into you with a lasting, animalistic moan, cumming thick ropes into you.

You made him access the condom, triple checking there wasn’t a hole unbeknownst to either of you, and after a fourth overview, he politely asked you if he could throw away his used condom now.

You would be okay this time.

He ran a bath a little later, and you submerged your body deep within the bubbles, letting them rest at your jawline. You felt like you lost your virginity all over again.

“H?” You asked, rubbing the bubbles up your arm.

“Yes, pet?”

“Do you want to get married?”

The question caught him, and he cracked his eyes open with curiosity. “I want to, yeah. You know I do.”

The conversation had only been passed around once, when you were terribly drunk and crying over some sob film where the boyfriend dies before they have a chance to elope despite their parent’s protests. The film stuck with you for weeks, and you always wondered, if you knew you were with the one, why wait? Why wait for tragedy to strike?

“Let’s get married.”

He chuckled, wiggling his toes against yours. “You’re mental.”

“No, I’m serious. Why wait? Seriously? I love you, you love me, and we aren’t getting any younger.”

“Pet, you’re 24.”

“And only getting older!”

“So, you want to find some Little White Chapel in Vegas and get hitched?” He leaned up a little, a smirk stretching out on his face.

“I want a real wedding, of course, someday, but right now…let’s do it. Let’s go to Vegas or Miami or somewhere, and just do it.”

It took an hour, but he eventually agreed, and was on the phone with Jeff to arrange a flight and hotel. The next day, the two of you ran around downtown to every consignment shop in the city, looking for a white dress – not as hard as you thought it would be – a diamond ring – a little tough, but you found one for cheap – and a nice pair of heels in your size – a lot harder; you bought a size too big by accident.

And in 24 hours, you would be marrying your best friend.

Miami, FL September 26, 2019

“Shit…fuck, we’re actually doing this?” You stuffed a wad of tissue paper into the toe box of your heels – one size too big – and stood up to test them for a final time. “No going back?”

“Cold feet, pet?”

“No, I’m fucking—it’s humid in here.” You swing around to face him, fanning yourself off with a loose People magazine, and its then you see him standing smugly in his slacks, a proper grin etching itself across his face.

“Cold feet—the expression, pet…”

“Harry—fuck, I’m nervous. My shoes are too big, I feel a pimple forming on my chin, and I’m pretty sure the wire in my bra broke ten minutes ago because something is stabbing my tit.”

“Well, I think your tits look great.”

“You can thank that bombshell bra I bought years ago for that.” You stroll back over to the sofa and toss the magazine carelessly onto the coffee table. “Did you have them sign an MDMA?”

“NDA, and Jeff got that covered.” Harry combs back a piece of his hair, that one strand that always gives him trouble. “Hold onto this for me?” You watch as he removes his H ring, and strolls over to the sofa. “Put it in your bra—can’t lose much in there.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“And you’re my wife.” His fucking smug grin falls over him like a tidal wave, and you wish you could just slap it right off his face.

“No, I’m not.”

“Give it a couple minutes.”

Your heart hurled itself up into your esophagus, the tremorous pounding radiating all throughout your head to your toes. Harry appeared quite relaxed as he staggered to the full-length mirror to adjust his collar, and from the reflection, he caught your watchful stare.

“Your mom is going to be pissed.” You think back to Anne, and all the good she’s done for you, and you are now repaying her by having her miss her son’s wedding. “We’ll need to plan the real thing soon.”

“We’ll tell her when we want to tell her, but for now,” he swung around on his heel to face you, “This is about you and me…and the rest of our lives.”

You make a mental note to thank Niall later.

You think back to those years ago, and how you almost bailed on Niall that night to stay home and watch The Young and the Restless with your roommate. You weren’t thrilled to get that phone call, but as long as Niall agreed to pay for a couple drinks, you found it in yourself to put on a pair of pants and enjoy a night out.

And maybe if you had inclined to stay home, your entire life would be a completely different world right now. Maybe you’d be in somebody else’s kitchen helping them prepare dinner, or on some lavish vacation with a guy you only met a month ago, or maybe you’d be alone in your apartment, binging a new show to pass the time you only let flutter by.

But you were here now, standing at an alter that smelled roughly of cigarettes and mildew, wearing shoes that were too big on you, in a dress that probably saw more weddings than you ever will, holding the hands of the man you were prepared to love for the rest of your life.

Nothing seemed to matter anymore, not the harassing, not the attack, not the stalking. It didn’t matter what anybody threw at you anymore; you were hard as fucking stone, and not a single person was going to damage what the two of you were building.

“You may now kiss your bride.”

#harry styles imagine #saaf series #miscarriage mention #miscarriage tw #harry styles #harry styles smut #one direction imagine #one direction

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secretshinigami · 3 years

Text

routine and soft eyes

Author: @hazblogs For: @beyondplusultra Pairings/Characters: nearmellomatt, mention of lawlight Rating/Warnings: T, mentions of Mello’s scar Prompt: Wammy House kids sleepover (A, B, L can be included, can be AU) Author’s notes: I had so much fun with this !!! soft bois…. thank you to anyone who reads it !!

Mello is positively fuming. Someone (who shall not be named, though if you want to know it starts with “N” and ends with “-ate River”) just got on top of Forensic Science and Investigative Skills and History of Crime and the Justice System. Those are Mello’s topics. They’re the best at these and they always have been (in the two years they’ve studied here. But that’s long enough, right ?), so the fact that Mister Nobody just came in and stole their turf… That’s infuriating. To top it all off, the dean did them dirty and assigned someone to the second bed in their room, knowing full well that they need that second bed for Matt. This week is just a pile of flaming shit.

As they swing the door open they are greeted by the beeping sounds usually coming from Matt’s bed, a comforting electronic melody. Matt doesn’t even turn around to raise his middle finger to protest against how loud Mello is, but that’s also common practice around here, so no worries.

“Heard you got your ass beat,” Matt says a while later, Mello’s hand carding through his strawberry-green hair. “By the newbie no less. How’re you taking it ?”

“Matt, my hand is dangerously close to your eyes and you need those to play on that stupid console. Better not risk it.”

“Like you’d ever hurt me,” Matt grumbles, and the certainty with which he speaks makes their heart pulse just a little faster. Mello is hopelessly in love, aren’t they ?

The rest of the evening is quiet save for that same musical background, a welcome white noise as Mello finishes their essay for Writing Comedy. The teacher seems to have some trouble with their rather macabre humour so they try to tone it down for once - rather unsuccessfully.

“Also heard you’ll have a roommate,” Matt continues a few hours later as they prepare for bed - gotta put some moisturiser on that scar like a damsel doing her skincare routine, the doctor said, “or you’ll experience how actually painful it can be”. Talk about being threatening…

“I heard. I can kick them out.” Mello would do it. Without remorse, even.

“I can sleep in your bed too,” Matt offers. “But only if you promise not to kick me out from under the covers every single night.”

“Okay, first of all, fuck off, and secondly, why the hell would I want someone else to room with me ? You’re already here. You’ve always been here.”

“And I always will be, Mels. Just… I think it’s time you get out of your shell a little bit, you know ? You can’t keep pretending that talking to me twice every day and ignoring Linda a couple times a week is enough friendly interaction for the little pea inside your coconut.” Mello turns away from the mirror, moisturiser in hand, and sends a glare to Matt who sighs and raises his hands in defeat. “Don’t say I didn’t try ! Think about it, okay, Mello ?”

They do think about it. The whole night. They don’t sleep - it’s not because Matt snores but that’s the excuse they’ll use. Ever since the accident and the scar, people have usually been too impressed - or scared - by them to even consider starting a casual conversation. Matt was there even before, and he probably always will be, Linda is a weirdo who wants to draw them with a ponytail, and… Well, that’s it. Mello lives for schoolwork, to be the best and hope to right some of the wrongs in this world.

“Yo, Mihael,” the dean says when he sees them in front of his office the following morning. Lawliet is a TA at their university, still haunting the dorms. He has a creepy smile under his stupid raccoon eyes and he keeps using Mello’s birthname, like it makes any more sense to call them with that than to call them “xXx_sexy_blondie_xXx”, or however you pronounce that out loud.

“Lawliet. I saw you assigned me a roommate.”

“I did,” he smiles still, like there’s a joke Mello doesn’t get.

“Why ?” Mello would actually like to know - Lawliet never does anything at random.

“You’ll see when he arrives later today,” is the cryptic answer, and Mello sneers at their stupid fucking dean as they leave for their 8am lecture.

Because yes, multiple things are out to get their skin - though they won’t be deterred.

The day goes by in a flash, Screenwriting and Poetry being two of their most interesting classes, and by the time they’ve finished their Crime Prevision and Prevention homework at the library, the sun is well on its way down. Mello walks slowly to the dorms, enjoying the warm air - it’s still only September and winter hasn’t come yet. The music blasting from their headphones is a perfect background to the chill atmosphere, a few bird silhouettes dark against the wonderfully peach clouds. In a few minutes they’ll kiss Matt and they’ll eat a bite, and they’ll sleep knowing they’re safe now.

When they arrive in front of their room, a few cardboard boxes occupy the entrance. Shit fuck hell, they’d forgotten the roommate arrived today. All they can see from where they’re blocked from entering is a white blob of hair on top of baggy clothes, perched on the desk and looking at whatever Matt is playing.

“Uh, I’m supposed to be able to enter my own room,” Mello kind of yells. Only kind of. “Would you please not be a giant stupid bother before I even get your name ?”

“Sorry,” the snowball says, not looking sorry at all. “I’m Nate River.”

“But you can call him Near ! He plays retro games, which isn’t… let’s say it’s not my strong point, but I’m sure it’ll go well, we’re three whole weirdos with weirdo nicknames !”

Mello blinks. Near is still here. They blink again. Near is still here, looking a little like a frog with his lopsided smile, a hand playing with one of his curls. Mello blinks a third time and doesn’t expect Near to have packed his things and go, but that was a close call.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” they mutter. “Lawliet is gonna get killed.”

“You actually know enough about criminology to not be caught, so go you.” Near is smirking. Mello wants to cry. “But I would advise against it, because he’s dating that twink Light Yagami, the alumni who came last week to give the presentation about the War on Drugs and its consequences. He’s a police lieutenant now.”

“Called it !” Matt raises a fist in victory, taking five years from Mello’s lifespan. “Anyway, now that you’re here, please do help us with the last boxes. We’ve been setting up Near’s compy and it’s revoltingly difficult.”

“I will not- how can you ask me to- I’m gonna commit arson and this time I promise I’ll succeed !”

“Dramatic bitch,” Matt says jovially. “Just come in and drop your stuff, apparently someone from the ADA thing comes tomorrow to make sure the room is accessible with a crutch and to help Near settle in.”

Mello just now notices that Near isn’t fully standing up - he’s propped on the desk, a mechanical knee peeking through the bottom of his shorts. This changes nothing - though Mello feels the both grim and hopeful sense of community that disabled people get when they meet. Their ear still works wonky and their eye ? Not the sharpest either. Without talking about all the skin damage, the phantom pain, the- hell no, they won’t get into “reflective mode” without having eaten dinner first.

Reluctantly, Mello spends the rest of the evening avoiding Near as Matt and them help him settle in, surprised by the small amount of belongings he actually has - most of the boxes he brought are board games and hundreds of little kapla sticks. Is Near planning to recreate the Golden Bridge ? He looks like a nerd, maybe it’ll be the Death Star.

Routines are a persistent thing, and before they know it, Near has managed to get a small space - small, they insist - in Mello’s well-oiled machinery. He eats breakfast with Matt, a meal that Mello forgoes entirely, and he goes on unfortunate walks to his PT appointments, because he’s out of money from whatever government organism gives benefits to disabled people and can’t afford a cab. Mello thinks they should get into it a little more, maybe call their case worker, because ramen tastes worse and worse when you have it for every meal of the week. And then Near and Matt start talking about something or another, especially topics that annoy Mello, or Near gets a little too close to them while they both work on their assignments at their desk, his elbow barely brushing Mello’s side. It makes them shiver, but they will ignore that, thank you very much.

Another routine - bedtime - has gotten a little different. One single bed is enough for “one person and a half”, according to Matt, so the obvious solution to them being three in a two single beds room is to push the beds together.

“And now you have a perfect three people beddery !” Matt triumphantly declared. “Mello, you sleep in the middle.”

“Why am I in the middle ?” they protested. “It’s the least comfortable !”

“Oh well, we can take turns,” Near had snarked, knowing full well that the first one of them to sleep in the middle would have to accept defeat.

Mello does end up in the middle, Matt cuddled against their left side where the burn is, and Near an ever-closer presence against their right arm. It’s not as uncomfortable as they expected. Near doesn’t snore and he smells like minty toothpaste, a strangely comforting scent that lulls Mello to sleep way more easily than the five thousand melatonin pills they take before going to bed.

Oh well, maybe Lawliet can live a little longer. His boyfriend - Matt saw them kissing through the peephole, it’s official now - won’t have any (more) reasons to put Mello behind bars.

Near gets on top of International Law and keeps wearing strangely baggy clothes everywhere - or well, everywhere but in the dorms. Mello has time to get used to that mechanical knee, even asking a few questions about phantom pains on the days Matt is away and the itching gets unmanageable. Near is quiet like snow but they’re nothing alike in warmth, grey eyes like molten metal setting on Mello’s face and crinkling in a smile.

And it works wonders. One time they get a bad mark (for their standards) and they even study with Near for extra credit, a presentation about the death penalty that lasts about three quarters of the two hours class. The teacher gives them both full marks and Matt celebrates by crushing them both against his chest, the smell of motor oil and mint so comforting that Mello closes his eyes, just for a little while.

It’s winter before they have time to think about it, and finals go by in a blur of “no sleep, no food, no distractions”. They even manage to end up at the nurse’s office when they faint during the Criminology Theory exam, forced to drink sugar water until the world stops exploding in a million tiny stars when they move their head.

Mello thinks that surviving their last winter exam session ever - they should be able to find a job with a double Master’s degree in Criminology and Creative writing, right ? - deserves a celebratory nap and they sprawl on the bed as soon as they’re back from the last stupid oral presentation they have to do about stupid Foundations of Criminal Justice. Near is not in the room - which is weird, because he finished five minutes and thirty six seconds before them - and Matt is away for the day to try and get his internship at the garage, so they have the full three-person bed, and they fully intend to enjoy the luxury.

They enjoy it so much that they fall asleep, only noticing that time has passed because before they blinked, it was day, and it is now very much nighttime. Light giggles fill the room along with the muted light from Near’s bedside lamp, and Mello takes the time to relish in the quiet atmosphere. Hushed conversation rises from near the desk, giggles and the smell of hot chocolate both making Mello sit up at last.

“Lookit you ! Sleeping beauty arises. Though I haven’t kissed you yet,” Matt smiles, and he climbs on the bed to press his lips against Mello’s. “Love you,” he whispers as he pulls away and goes back to slump on Near’s shoulder.

At first, Near felt like an intruder each time Matt kissed them, but he’s become so embedded in their life that Mello doesn’t feel any awkwardness anymore - to the point where not including him has become the cause of their inner turmoil.

Because yeah, uh, there’s that. Near in a tank top and booty shorts, prosthetic being painted on by a very enthusiastic Matt, has become the new image they conjure up each time the need to strangle someone arises. And poof, instant peace. Discreet touches, Near sleeping fully cuddled against their right side now, Matt nosing through Near’s hair just after he’s washed it because his strawberry shampoo smells divine, Mello even going as far as ruffling Near’s hair without warning, just to see his little nose scrunch up… All that has become routine too, and suddenly the change is too big to go by unmentioned.

They’ve managed to hold on to their feelings until then but as Matt starts talking again, Near’s smile is a little too tight - though his eyes sparkle, it’s like… something’s missing.

“Emergency mee-ee-ting,” they yawn, the skin around their left eye crinkling up painfully. Near notices and doesn’t even ask before grabbing the petroleum jelly tube and throwing it rather inaccurately at their face. See, that’s what they were talking about, Near has just become… there, in the way Matt is there even when he’s asleep in another part of the universe where Mello can only hope to ever go to. “We gotta talk shit out.”

“Are you over your gay crisis yet ?” Matt asks, eyes calm and open, sipping hot chocolate with noisy slurps that Mello doesn’t bother mentioning anymore. His green hair looks more and more red as time passes, which is a strange feat of hair dye conspiracy. “Can we go back to playing ?”

“I haven’t even talked !” Mello protests. “I just really think it’s necessary to mention that…”

They don’t know how to continue that sentence. Near is looking at them with something strangely akin to hope, and Matt still has that infuriating openness about him like he just knows Mello so well he doesn’t need to be told what they feel.

Near doesn’t, though, and he matters enough to Mello now for them to want to include him in the little bubble as well.

“I just think it’d be cool if we shared the secret chocolate stash with Near,” is what comes out of their mouth.

Well done caporal, please die of shame now.

“Mels, wow, that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said !” Matt’s voice drips with amusement - devoid of any mean spirit, they should add, because Matt is the one thing Mello knows is good in this world. And well, maybe there’s a second one they’ve stumbled on, and they want Near to know that he means a lot to them too.

“I mean it !” Mello whines. “He’s one of us now. I think we can share.”

“Mello. Please realise that I’ve been flirting with you this entire time,” comes Near’s deadpan answer. “The time I told you I wanted to braid your hair ? The time I made you sleep and finished the presentation alone because you’d gotten the flu and I hate being sneezed on ? The fact that Matt literally sits in my lap half the time, and only half because the other is spent on your lap ?”

“Okay, first of all, fuck off with me getting the flu.”

“You’re avoiding my question.” Near looks stubborn, and it’s a good look on him.

When did Mello start to think Near looks good ? “I, uh. I may be slightly romantically obtuse. Has Matt told you the time when-”

“-he kissed you and you thought he wanted to practice smooches for his secret best friend, because of course you wouldn’t be his best friend ?”

Utterly mortified, Mello can feel their cheeks become bright red. “Well, uh. Enough mushiness for tonight. Just pass me the chocolate, Matt, I’m starving.”

Matt giggles and throws a Kinder Egg at their face. Near munches on the leftover shell while Mello assembles the toy, and it’s peaceful - and happy, too, so when Mello raises a hand to their scar they smile still, in spite of their involuntary shiver.

#fanfiction #death note #submission #nearlymellodramattic #nearmattmello #lawlight mention #near #matt #mello #hazblogs #beyondplusultra #Mello's Birthday Mayhem 2020

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greekgeek21 · 3 years

Text

Percy Jackson & The Avengers: Convergence - some badass demigod training!!

Hello, and welcome back to...my horrible explanation for being absent! Coming up on this episode, you'll see me explain that I had my first 2 lacrosse games of the season and was left with bruised ribs. If anyone ever says that women's lax isn't a real sport cuz there isn't contact, you can tell them that someone from a fanfic website said they had bruised ribs from playing.

Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. We're starting to get some actual plot movement I think so have fun with that. Honestly, I kinda forgot what happened in here so...yeah. Please comment, like, follow, and reblog! Stay safe & happy reading!

- your author

Ω ♆ Ω

Percy and Annabeth woke up to the sound of a startled shout. Frank's startled shout, to be specific. They both shot up right away, their battle instincts kicking in, but Frank had seen enough.

"Seriously guys!? Again?" he exclaimed.

"Nothing happened!" Annabeth reassured, "We just fell asleep!"

"We did kiss a little," Percy muttered, and Annabeth shot him a death glare.

"Not. Helping," she whispered scathingly.

A sense of complete déjà vu washed over Percy. Except this time, the rest of the Seven were standing in the doorway, watching on with various amused expressions on their faces.

"Oh, this is perfect. Coach Hedge is gonna love this," Leo smiled in maniacal glee.

"No, Leo," Piper ordered, "You're not going to do that. Instead, we are going to get this meeting over with so I can get some sleep."

"Aw...you ruin all my fun!" he exclaimed.

"Someone's gotta do it when Calypso isn't here," Piper said.

It was true. Calypso and Piper are probably the only ones who could actually control Leo. Calypso because of Leo's fear of losing her or just general fear of her, and Piper because of her charmspeak.

"Ok! That's enough. We're getting sidetracked. We need to start this meeting." Jason clapped his hands to get everyone's attention.

He gave Percy a meaningful look; one which said to 'take it from here.' So Percy did.

"Um, well, Annabeth and I wanted to talk to you guys about what's been going on. We need to come to an agreement on what we are allowed to say and do with the Avengers. I don't think we should show them the full extent of our powers because it seemed like those spies were looking for a reason to lock us up," he started, "And I'm not particularly fond of being put in a cell. How about you?"

"Yeah. And we need to figure out a way to deal with the bombings without them figuring us out. The mortals seemed pretty Hades-bent on releasing the big secret, and that never bodes well for people like us. I know that we need their help, but I don't trust them." Annabeth said.

"We can just say we were born with the powers, and have no idea why. I mean, it's technically true," Jason offered.

The others all nodded in agreement.

"Ok, now what about the pattern? What is it?" Piper asked.

"All of the places are big parts of the Greek and Roman world. Brooklyn Bridge is near Manhattan, the home of the Gods, Portland: Mt. St. Helens, where Typon used to be held, LA: entrance to Hades, Long Island: Camp Half-blood, and San Francisco: Camp Jupiter," Annabeth answered.

"Woah," Jason whispered, shocked.

"Yeah, but that's not our biggest concern. We also need to figure out how to hide our identities from the world while we're fighting with the Avengers," Annabeth said.

Everyone else there hadn't even thought of that. It comes in real handy to have a daughter of Athena around sometimes. Ok, not sometimes, all the time. All of them would be really dead without her quick thinking and planning.

"Um, I could try to see if the Aphrodite cabin could cook something up?" Piper suggested, "But most of them are still getting used to fighting, so they won't really know what to make. They need help with the designs."

Leo shot up from where he had slumped down into the desk chair, "I can help! Well, the Hephaestus cabin can. We can help design it so it's battle-ready."

"Good. We'll need those soon, I think. I have a feeling that we're going to have a lead soon, so we need to be ready when it comes. This is just one quest, so there is no need for people to think we're some kind of superheroes," Annabeth said.

"Aw! But I already had a name picked out!" Leo exclaimed.

He looked like he was about to let them in on his superhero name, but Annabeth held up a hand with a glare that clearly said to not speak unless he wanted to lose some very important parts of him. That kept him quiet, for sure.

"Is that all?" Frank asked, towering over them all.

"For now, yes. Remember, say the absolute minimum and stick to twisting the truth. If you reveal any new information without the others knowing, call a meeting to let us know," Annabeth confirmed, nodding her head.

"Great, now I can go back to sleep," Percy said, pulling Annabeth back down with him.

The others filed out soon after that, already hearing Percy's soft snores as they left and returned to their respective rooms. Ok, so Jason and Piper stayed in the same room like Percy and Annabeth did, but nothing happened. It was just nice to be in the arms of someone who cares about you, you know?

Ω ♆ Ω

"Up and at 'em, kiddos! It's training day!" Tony gleefully exclaimed over the speakers that Percy was absolutely sure he did not see in his room.

Percy groaned when he saw what time it was: 6:00 AM. He knew he wasn't allowed to (and that it was wrong, of course), but he wanted to kill Tony so badly in that moment. It would be quick! Nobody would suffer!

But, alas, he had to actually work with the man-child. It might not come off like it, but Percy takes war very seriously, and this was starting to feel like a war. Or at least, it would become one if they didn't stop it soon. And to do that, they needed the Avengers, apparently.

That was the only reason that he followed Annabeth in getting up and ready for the day. He took a little longer than Annabeth, but at 6:30 AM, they were stepping out of his room. They saw that the others were slowly doing the same. They were all tired. There weren't any big dream incidents, but that doesn't mean that staying up until midnight and then waking up at six in the morning won't do something to you. Even Leo looked exhausted, with big puffy eyes from rubbing them in an attempt to wake himself up quicker. If Leo Valdez was tired, then you knew that it was too early for this.

Also, you have to remember that they'reteenagers. Teenagers aren't meant to be up super early- it's a scientific fact, Percy thinks. Annabeth once told him something about their melatonin not releasing until later at night, so they could stay up and sleep in later.

What? Percy pays attention to what she's saying sometimes.

"I hate Tony," Piper grumbled, practically falling asleep on Jason.

"You and us all, chica," Leo mumbled before letting out a huge yawn.

"What did he say was going on? Training?" Jason asked, looking over at Annabeth for answers because she seemed the most awake of the group.

"Yep. Training, whatever that entails. I don't know, so be prepared for anything. I really hope it has nothing to do with electronics, but knowing our luck, and how Tony has been so far, it will, so just try not to get too close," she answered.

Leo tiredly saluted her, "Yes, ma'm."

Hazel rolled her eyes, "Come on, Repair Boy."

She grabbed his arm and started leading the way towards the living room, which was their best guess at where the Avengers were.

As they were walking, they were interrupted by the disembodied voice of JARVIS, "Excuse me, but I was told to direct you to the training room, where the Avengers are currently assembled and waiting for you. Shall I proceed?"

All of the demigods were still really weirded-out by the AI, and there was no way it was ending soon. It's just a reminder that they were currently in a building basically composed entirely of technology, one of their greatest liabilities. Liabilities were a dangerous thing in their lives.

"Yes..." Percy answered hesitantly, unsure where to look.

"Then please follow the arrows projected on the ground, sir," JARVIS said.

Sure enough, there were large white arrows pointing them away from the living room, so they followed them. It was about a two minute walk to the elevators, where they were told to go to the 60th floor, which was apparently one whole training room by itself.

Ω ♆ Ω

"So let me get this straight, you guys want us to...play a video game?" Frank asked, gesturing to the giant room around them.

The Seven were quickly ushered by the Avengers into a big room with a bunch of white, padded tiles all around them as soon as they had reached the training floor. There was only a viewing window and an exit that disappeared when the door was closed. Then, Tony explained what they were going to be doing. None of them really understood it yet.

"No! I want you to fight the LMDs! The robots! They will simulate different levels of skill to evaluate your skills. Understand?" Tony punctuated each word, quickly losing any sense of patience he had started with.

"Yeah. We got it," Annabeth sighed.

Ok, she was sure she was the only one of them who realized that they were about to break one of the rules they established last night on the first day. They were about to fight robots. TECHNOLOGY.

This should go well, Annabeth thought.

Steve interrupted before Tony could make a snarky comment, "Good. We'll start with fighting separately and then together as a group. Afterwards, we'll see how you work with different weapons."

"Aye aye, Cap," Leo joked.

"Leo, focus. We're about to fight ROBOTS." Annabeth tried to get the son of Hephaestus to understand the severity of the situation. "You have a back-up plan, right?"

He could talk to machines. Robots were machines. Therefore, he should be able to get them out of this mess if anything went wrong.

He gave her a nod of understanding, and Annabeth settled back into her natural stance rather than her tense one. Well, she's always tensed for battle. At least in her natural one it's less obvious.

"Alright, who wants to go first?" Tony asked over the intercom.

"Uncle Leo will go first, right?" Percy joked, referencing to one of Leo's favorite nicknames for himself.

"Sure! I just need to know how much damage I'm allowed to do," Leo said, looking up at the Avengers.

Annabeth was shocked that he had even thought to ask that, and apparently the Avengers were, too.

"Um, just let go. There's nothing you can do to break this room. I designed it myself," Tony answered, still arrogant even through his confusion.

"Come on out, the rest of you," Natasha instructed.

Once the rest of the demigods had exited the room and stood next to the Avengers at the viewing window, Tony pressed a button on a screen that made a compartment in the walls of the room open up, revealing a row of floating LMDs.

"Now, I'm going to start you at Level 2, okay? It gets harder as you move up. The LMDs should stay the same form throughout every level, though. Ready?" Tony said.

Leo pulled his war hammer from his magical toolbelt and lit it and his arms on fire, "Ready."

Tony had to shake himself out of his shock before he pressed the start button, but when he did, every one of the mortal heroes had sat on the edge of their metaphorical seats, eager to see just how powerful these kids could be.

Plus, the kid had just pulled a giant war hammer from his normally-sized toolbelt, and then proceeded to light himself and the hammer on fire. They were bound to be curious after that display.

They knew the very basics of the young heroes' abilities, but most of that stuff was based on just what they had been told. Actual, visible proof is what they wanted.

All at once, the LMDs transformed into the Avengers minus the Hulk. Repeat, they changed into the Avengers. Leo had to fight a copy of the Avengers, alone.

Percy was freaking out inside. Sure, he trusted his friend, but Leo was a joker, and he tended to not understand how serious things were. In this case, he hoped that didn't happen.

"This should be interesting," Natasha remarked.

"No, this should be terrible. Tony, you never told me you were using this setting," Bruce said, rushing up to the other scientist, "He's just a kid."

"I think they've made it clear they aren't just kids, Jolly Green. It's fine. If they wanted to be treated like the rest of us, then they need to pass this test," Tony said.

Bruce looked like he wanted to say a lot more, but Jason stepped up to stop him, "He'll be fine, Dr. Banner. Leo may not look it, but he's powerful and he's smart. He can handle this."

Jason looked so sure of himself that it was enough to convince the doctor that it would be okay.

In truth, Jason had no idea how this program worked. There was a good chance that Leo did not, in fact, have this handled.

While this was being discussed, Leo had already started to fight the Iron Man LMD. He was currently alternating between swinging his hammer at it and firing balls of fire. The LMD had only been hit a couple of times because it kept maneuvering around the attacks by flying away.

It was getting tiresome, and Leo wanted it to be over with. So, he dropped his hammer and set a determined look on his face, glaring up at the robot.

The Seven were grinning, already figuring out what was happening, while the Avengers were just plain confused. What was the kid gonna do? Glare them to death?

Then, Leo started grinning and they knew it was all over.

He crouched down onto the ground and placed a hand on the floor, closing his eyes in concentration. The LMDs seemed to be as confused as their originals.

Three seconds passed before Leo's grin grew even more, and then he spoke a single word, "Stop."

And they did. Every single LMD lost their form and fell to the ground, limp and unmoving. Leo stood up, dusted his pants off, and turned to the viewing window to see his teammate's reactions.

They were priceless.

"That's how you do it," he said, "Am I done?"

Tony literally shook himself out of his stupor, "Yeah, sure. I need to reboot the LMDs."

When Leo came through the door, the rest of the demigods crowded him, patting him on the back and laughing at his dramatics.

"What was that?" Natasha demanded, breaking through the teens to tower over Leo's elf-like form.

Okay, maybe tower isn't the right word. She was taller than him, but not by much. Natasha was just very intimidating.

"Uh...fighting?" Leo tried.

Natasha's glare hardened, "You know that's not what I mean. What did you do to make the LMDs stop attacking?"

Leo glanced at Annabeth, who nodded in consent, "I talked to them."

"You did what?!" Tony exclaimed.

"I talked to them. They were pretty boring, to be honest, but I was able to shut them down," he answered.

Tony let out an incredulous laugh, "That's not possible! You can't just TALK to machines!"

"He can, and he did," Piper said, smiling proudly at her best friend.

"But–" Tony's voice died out.

"How come you never told us of this ability?" Natasha asked.

"You never asked," Percy answered simply, not liking her interrogatory tone at all.

The spy looked like she wanted to continue the conversation, but Clint whispered something in her ear and she stepped back with one last glare.

"Welp! That was fun! Who's next?" Tony clapped his hands.

Everyone turned to see that he had gotten the LMDs back online and back in the Avengers' form.

Piper sighed and started to walk to the door, "I guess I'll go next."

Before she could enter, Steve asked, "What weapon are you going to use? Your powers won't work on the robots."

Piper smirked at him over her shoulder before pulling Katoptris from its sheath on her thigh. Apparently, the Avengers had yet to fully break through the Mist, and they could not see her having that strapped there this entire time. But when she pulled it out, they seemed to finally be able to see it for what it truly was. It makes you wonder what they thought was there before. A ruler, maybe?

"I've got this," she stated before slipping into the training room.

Ω ♆ Ω

It was obvious Piper had been taking more lessons on dagger-fighting with Annabeth. As soon as the first person attacked, she was slashing and stabbing like crazy. Her lithe form was swisting out of the way of punches from Steve's copy, while Clint's arrows were shooting at her from behind.

Tony had clearly upped the level of difficulty after seeing what Leo could do.

Piper ducked under one of the arrows, and then shot back up to land a finishing blow to the center of LMD-Steve's chest. Then, she ripped Katoptris out of the robot and turned to throw it at Clint's copy, which just barely managed to avoid getting stabbed.

She was running on pure adrenaline now. It was best to imagine these opponents as monsters. Sure, when they actually fought humans, they would need to not kill, but these were just robots.

Cilnt's robot shot it's last arrow, and it exploded right before her face, stunning her into stillness. In that couple of seconds it took for her to recenter herself, Natasha's copy jumped onto her back for a chokehold. Piper struggled, but the LMD had been designed to know all of Natasha's known skills, and it was working. The Iron Man LMD landed and shot a stunning shot at her chest: the final straw for Piper to finally surrender.

She knew they wouldn't kill her, but she was not in the mood to be knocked-out. It left you with a massive headache.

So she tapped out.

"Ok ok, I'm done. I'm done," She panted as she was released, rubbing her neck.

Piper was not happy about having to surrender, but it seemed like the Avengers had been thoroughly impressed with her skill with such a small weapon.

"I'll do next," Annabeth declared, high-fiving Piper on her way out.

"Good luck," Piper said.

"Don't need it," Annabeth responded, pulling out her drakon-bone sword.

Out in the control room, Tony said, "Is that a bone?!"

"It's whatever you want it to be," Hazel grinned, manipulating the Mist just a bit.

"You scare me sometimes, Miss Metal Detector," Leo muttered, glancing at Annabeth's sword, which had shifted into a machete.

He wasn't sure whether to be impressed by Hazel's skill, or weirded-out by Tony's brain.

"Make sure to move to difficulty up a bit," Percy told Tony, "She'll be insulted otherwise."

The billionaire seemed to be getting used to the teens' weird ways because he didn't even flinch when he heard that, and instead moved to comply.

"And...here we go," Tony said over the intercom, "Good luck, Annie."

"My name is Annabeth!" she shouted before going into the fight.

In this level, every single one of them attacked at once. Annabeth back-bended under Steve's copy's punch, and then kicked up into LMD-Natasha's face. After, she turned and sliced the Iron Man armor on the side, just under the armpit. She had picked that as a point of weakness before she had even stepped into the building.

"She's good," Natasha relented, watching as the daughter of Athena thrusted her sword into Steve's robot foot.

Seeing that Clint's LMD copy was not going to get any closer to her, Annabeth pulled out a hidden dagger and threw it in a perfect line to hit it in the center of its forehead. Then, she turned and blocked a punch from Natasha's robot, who had recovered from the face-hit. The spy copy used the Iron Man LMD to jump up and wrap her legs around Annabeth's neck, trying to do a scissor hold, which failed because Annabeth rolled forward, slamming Natasha's head into the ground. The left a big enough dent that the LMD wasn't getting back up.

That only left Iron Man to deal with.

She settled into a fighting stance, but didn't attack, choosing to wait for her opponent to make the first blow.

Percy was grinning. This was what they needed: a good way to blow off steam without it possibly ending with one of them dead.

"What is she waiting for?" Steve asked.

"She's playing with it. It's fun for her," Jason answered, "It's Annabeth."

Finally, the robot got impatient and attacked. It sent a stun blast at her, which Annabeth quickly avoided. After, she ran up to the wall, kicked off of it, and jumped up to drag the Iron Man LMD down to the ground, where she sat down on it and landed a few punches. But she quickly realized punching wasn't doing much good.

"Judo flip! Do the judo flip!" Leo exclaimed, jumping up and down in excitement.

When it wasn't him being the one attacked by Annabeth, it was super entertaining.

Annabeth sighed, but a smile was pulling at the edges of her lips. She hauled Iron Man up, who was still recovering from being slammed down to the ground, and got a good hold on it's arm. Then, she flipped it over her shoulder with an ease that only came from years of experience.

With a huge smile on her lips, and a last glance at her carnage, Annabeth walked back out to the control room.

"How was that for a kid?" She asked Natasha.

"Not bad," she got for an answer.

Ω ♆ Ω

Jason, Hazel, and Frank's individual tests went-by pretty quickly. Jason electrocuted all of the robots, rendering them immobile.

After that, and with another new batch of LMDs, Hazel used her Spatha to slice and cut through the robots. In the end, it proved too hard for her to do it with just a sword, so she pulled a chunk of the wall out and smashed it against the LMDs until they were in many different pieces.

Frank ended up having to forfeit, but not before getting every single Avengers copy but Steve down. Steve ended up having him in a chokehold that was just too difficult to get out of. And Frank had already transformed into many animals, so he wasn't sure if he could've changed back if he had transformed again.

If it wasn't obvious, Percy was avoiding doing his turn. He was trying to stay in the corner, and out of the notice of any of the adults. However, that wasn't possible with two spies in the room. They notice everything.

"Percy? Your turn," Natasha said.

So much for that plan.

Percy hesitated, "Um...about that, I don't think I should go."

Natasha raised her eyebrows in mock-surprise, but it was actually Steve who spoke, "You have to go, son. In order to work well together, we need to know each other's strengths and weaknesses. This will never work without you doing this."

"Plus, we promise it's completely safe," Bruce added in.

Percy sighed, admitting that he wasn't going to be able to worm his way out of this one. Instead of fighting, he turned to whisper to Annabeth, "Don't let me get out of control."

Annabeth gave him a sad look, "Percy, I know you have control. I trust you. You just need to trust yourself. You would never hurt us. I know that for certain."

The Avengers were watching this interaction like hawks, but the other demigods were averting their attention. This happened sometimes, Percy and Annabeth going into their own world that only they could understand, and it was best to just let them be. Plus, privacy is a real thing people. The moment seemed almost too intimate for them to interrupt.

Percy still seemed to be having trouble believing Annabeth's statements, but he went into the training room without another protest. His shoulders were sagging in defeat, and he seemed to be folding in on himself. He was never one for attention, but that was a bit much in Leo's mind.

However, Leo and the rest of the Seven didn't have a full grasp on just how uncomfortable Percy as with using his powers now. They didn't know what happened in "that place."

"Are you ready, Percy?" Tony asked, readying the LMDs again.

"Yeah, I guess," Percy answered.

Annabeth was rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, "Just breathe, Perce," she whispered under her breath, "You can do this."

She had to put on a brave face for her boyfriend, but she truly was terrified of Percy's potential. She had seen it first-hand in their trip underground, and it was nothing to be underestimated. The Avengers didn't know what powers they were playing with here. She only hoped that her insistent trust she was putting in Percy was going to amount to truth.

"We'll start you on Level 5? Based on what your friends can do, I think this will be a good start," Steve asked.

"Sure," Percy responded, bringing Riptide from his pocket.

"What's he going to do with a pen?" Bruce whispered to Clint.

The Seven all smiled at each other. Little did the mortals know, that pen was definitely not just a pen. It was always amusing when people saw what Riptide truly was for the first time.

"Alright. Here we go," Tony said, starting the simulation.

Percy closed his eyes, inhaled, exhaled, and popped the cap off of his pen. Opening his eyes, you could tell something had shifted in him. He was in his natural element now, and nobody could stop him from achieving his goal.

That goal just so happened to be mutilating some billionaire's robots.

"Let's have some fun," Percy said, charging the first LMD.

He was a flurry of motion. His fighting style was a mix from Greek, Roman, and modern martial arts that he had learned from Annabeth. He'd kick one adversary just to turn and thrust his sword into another one trying to attack him from behind.

"He's amazing," Bruce said in wonder, mesmerized by Percy's skill.

The son of Poseidon was relying only on his hand-to-hand and swordsmanship skills, rather than his powers, but that barely slowed him down. If the mortals wanted a display of his competence, then he would give them one.

Annabeth had a proud smile on her face as she watched Percy judo flip Natasha's robot over his shoulder and slammed it hard enough to the ground that it "died," ending his fight.

That had gone well, considering Percy's worries.

However, he knew better than to let his guard down just yet. As all demigods know, life never gives any breaks. That, and the Fates are cruel.

Ω ♆ Ω

"Ok, guys. Let's take a lunch break, and then we'll do some more training, but this time, with only abilities," Steve said.

Percy had put his sword away, and was not standing in the viewing room with the rest of the heroes, mortal and demigod alike. All of the teens looked and felt exhausted, so it was a given to take a break.

"Got it, boss," Leo saluted, turning and exiting the room, heading no doubt in the direction of the kitchen.

"I guess that means we're leaving," Percy laughed. A real, genuine laugh.

It made Annabeth smile larger than she had in a long time. Improvement is always good.

Soon, everyone was gathered around the kitchen and living room area. Percy and Leo were scavenging for food while the Avengers and the rest of the Seven talked. So far, the hunt was not going as planned.

"Tony! Are you seriously telling me you're a billionaire, and you can't afford some decent Cheerios?!" Percy yelled.

"Yeah! Who goes grocery shopping around here?" Leo exclaimed, holding up the near-empty jug of milk.

The Avengers all looked at each other in confusion, "Who DOES go grocery shopping?" Bruce asked.

"Pepper, sometimes, I think. She must've been busy this week," Tony answered, "We can just order some Chinese or something for now."

"That should work, but if you're going to house these boys," Annabeth pointed to Percy, Leo, Jason, and Frank, "You're going to need a lot more food around at all times. Their appetites could rival that of an elephant."

Hazel let out a tiny laugh, realizing Annabeth's little pun about Frank. She received a small smirk in response.

"Teenagers," Tony muttered, rolling his eyes, "Always hungry."

"Now wait a second, Tony, I remember seeing you eat an entire large pizza by yourself just a couple weeks ago," Natasha remarked, smirking at her teammate.

Tony only glared in response, and then he told JARVIS to order lunch.

"Well, while we're waiting, I'll explain what our next exercise is," Steve said, "Basically, we're going to see and document your powers, but in a more controlled environment. You won't be fighting anything, but this will be more focused on precision than quantity. We need to know your full capabilities so that we know where to put you in a fight. Is that okay?"

He was asking their permission as more of a courtesy than an actual question, obviously, but the demigods still nodded their heads in confirmation. It wasn't like they couldn't leave at any time if things ever got too out-of-control.

Or at least, that's what they told themselves. In all honesty, nobody trusted each other yet. They could be shot down by the Avengers if they tried to run away, for all they knew, and that's what the scariest thing was. Neither group really KNEW the other group's intentions, only what they had told each other.

Everyone was walking on thin ice, whether it was known to them or not.

Ω ♆ Ω

I hope you liked it! Remember, this is also on FF, Ao3, Inkitt, Webnovel, and Wattpad.

other chapters :)

#pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #Percy Jackson and the avengers #mcu #marvel #the avengers #the seven #demigod #fanfic #wattpad #writing #ao3 #inkitt #superhero #webnovel

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ofcloudsandstars · 4 years

Text

Dream Ritual ☾・ﾟ✧

Our dreams are a portal within ourselves and sometimes a door connecting us to the astral plane. This ritual can be altered to resonate as much as possible with your unique needs or be as grandiose or minimalist as you like. There are a few steps but depending on your needs you do not have to do all of them if you do not have a need for it. This is just a guide!

The full post is a little long so just to be considerate of people’s dash I have added a read more:

Part I - Setting the space

Your bed will be your ‘altar’ and you are the main tool of magic. Make sure your bed is clean and comfortable. If you have time and want to really amplify the energy then wash the sheets.

Bonus: you could add some essential oils corresponding to your intention in the bundle (or if you have dryer balls, on those) before tossing it in the dryer.

Additional tools you can add to your beds makeshift altar space:

Herb sachets that can help you with your dreams!

Some great bundle ideas could have lavender for calm, burdock for positivity, rose for healing, rosemary for memory. I prefer a lot of sweet mellow nectar scents from jasmine, honeysuckle, gardenia then scents that are refreshing or energizing as those tend to make me more awake but everyone is different and some people may find citrus or mints soothing to sleep to while others might enjoy a warm spiced smell.Using crystals and tucking them in your pillow corresponding to your intent. Amethyst is a nice and easy to find crystal that helps with dreams. If you use a nightlight set it to a color that corresponds to the intention of your dream journey.

Part II - Preparing yourself

If you have a moment it's always nice to do a little shower spell before going to sleep. The warm water will help you relax, cleanse any unwanted energy and get ready for the journey. You can use this part of the ritual to use soaps or shower gel potions that correspond to your intent to prepare yourself for the dream magic. If you use any scrubs (or soap itself is cleansing you can just use plain soap for this too) you can scrub yourself counter clockwise to wash away any build up of energy you do not want to take with you into your space.

You can add energy back by hydrating your skin afterwards with an oil to prepare yourself for your dream flight. You can use some essential oils to help with your magic and dilute them with a few drops in a small dish of coconut/sweet almond (or whichever body oil works best for you), or even plain lotion that's nice on your skin and moisturize yourself. A fantastic oil I'd recommend you get your hands on for dream journeying is Clary Sage which aids to create dramatic, colorful and sometimes even multiple dreams in deep sleep. It also helps with stress, emotional tension, depression and anxiety by helping the body to relax and promoting positivity. Clary Sage is safe to go on skin in small drops diluted with oil or lotion (I wouldn't recommend putting any EO on the face, not that some of them couldn't be safe, but everyone's face is different and sensitive so it's best to avoid and just use this in a few drops to moisturize the body below the neck).

Part III - Dream Brew

There are a number of drinks you could make to help you on your dream journey. Whether it be a tea infused with tinctures, or a warm milk steeped with honey and herbs, there is a lot of possibilities to making a dream brew that works best for you. In this case it's good to review ingredients that can help you in your journey.

Herbs for Vivid Dreams

Mugwort: A tea that will come to most witches minds, Mugwort is incredibly helpful, local to many witches in North America and Europe and not too hard to get your hands on. It helps to enhance dream effects and adds a sense of vividness and heightens the consciousness so that you are more aware of what's currently happening. Mugwort also is helpful to add into a dream pillow. It can also be a little bit protective as well.

Peppermint is other herb that can help with vividness. It can support dream quality and make the scenes more vivid and alive. This could help in a tincture to add a few drops to your blend.

Rosemary is a great herb for a number of reasons but it also helps with your memory. You can add rosemary as well to your blend for protection as it's both cleansing and protective.

Herbs for Dream Journeying

Wild Asparagus Root is also known as 'the flying herb' due to it's ability to transport people into other worlds while they sleep. On a lovely note it is also known to help you open up your heart and improve your heart's energy.

Vervain takes a while to kick in but it helps to treat broken sleep and can help with clarity and opening the mind while both awake and during sleep. It helps to enhance dreams and create vivid journeying experiences.

Calea Zachatechi is considered the dream herb and can be bought in supplements or in tea. I am a firm believer of consuming what is local and native to you so if you are somewhere where mugwort is more accessible go with that but often the culture of witchcraft focuses on western Europe too much and it's good to give a range of possibilities since witches of anywhere can do this dream ritual. However if you do spot this in your local herbal/health food shop then it doesn't hurt to experiment. It helps massively with dream recall and boosting reoccuring dreams.

Another herb from the Southwest US desert/Mexico area is called Heimia Salicifolia which is also known as the sun opener. It has been used even by Aztecs to induce powerful often life altering dreams and recall even really distant memories they may have forgotten they had. I have never tried this and it sounds really intense (I found it while reading some more on Calea Zachatechi) so do some more research but if it's local to you or resonates with your energy then try it out in small dosages. If you are a witch from the Desert or of mexican heritage that re looking to connect to the land you are from, these two herbs could be of use to your practice.

Another helpful herb is Ginkgo Biloba which works by improving memory and increasing brain function which helps with having more detailed dreams. It works by improving blood flow to the brain and helps with lucid dreaming. If it's native to you or your roots it could be a helpful aid in your dream rituals.

Herbs for Positivity and Protection

Sometimes we need more protection for dream magic if we may be prone to nightmares or worse, night terrors. Some herbs to help with this can be Burdock, St. Johns Wort, Rhodiola and Lavender.

Burdock helps you to have positive dreams and guide it away from nightmares.

St. Johns Wort helps with fighting depression and uplifting the mood but you should avoid drinking this if you are already on medication as it can tamper with that.

Rhodiola is another mood booster and it helps boost memory and cognition. It is also known to help cause dreams that are excessively vivid, graphic and rich with details. It also helps boost your energy while keeping you calm which allows you to sleep while still feeling mentally aware. (Also check if its something you could take with anti-depressants since Rhodiola is an anti-depressant as well).

Lavender is fantastic with calming the body, helping ease anxiety and inducing tranquility to help with sleep.

Herbs to help induce sleep

Valerian Root, though it truly smells like unwashed feet is fantastic to induce sleep and even help people whom have trouble sleeping fall asleep faster. It can also be used to have incredible prolific lucid dreams as well. One thing to note, from many witch friends, too much Valerian root can also make the user have an uncomfortable dreaming experience and to some it has induced nightmares, so do not add too much to your blend. A few drops in a tincture would be enough. A tincture would be the best way to consume this as the smell would be muted and it will have the properties concentrated. A full pippet for one cup of brew would suffice.

Passionflower can be easily found in a tincture and helps with reducing stress, minimizing pain and inducing sleep.

Chamomile is a bedtime favorite along with lavender (often the two are blended together, sometimes even with Vervain). It helps you relax and prepare for bed. Chamomile in a milk and honey blend is perfect to go to sleep with.

Lemon Balm is a natural sedative that helps the body to be calmer and improves the length and quality of sleep.

Melatonin isn't an herb but if you do get trouble sleeping its a nice supplement to take with your brew that helps your body know it's time to relax and rest.

Additional Notes:

There are some herbs that really help the body to relax and sleep but sometimes can be so powerful that it can make the body pass through the dream phase and knock out cold to just deep sleep. For this reason I wouldn't recommend something like marijuana or anything that creates too much pain relief. Sometimes weed can help with vivid dreams but the brain fog after makes it difficult to retain anything afterwards. In this case it's best to avoid it all together.

When making your elixir of choice, know your body well and what works for you and what doesn't. Some of our bodies may be more sensitive towards sugar so put less or avoid adding honey or sugar to your blend all together. The same could go towards dairy if you do wish to make a warm milk blend or milky tea brew. Instead use oat milk (which is pretty wonderfully creamy) or any other non dairy milk that works well with your body. Often if we consume something before sleep which could upset the balance of our system, our gut bacteria could end up having a riot and communicate some choice words to our brain which induces uncomfortable scenarios or dreams that can upset the flow that we are trying to channel. Some people can guzzle sweets and dairy before bed and be fine but just be aware of yourself and what works best for you.

Making the Dream Brew-

Tip: If you decide to do this on the full moon then leave out some water for 10 minutes under moonlight. (If it's not convenient for you to have a pot out then get a smaller cup of water or bottle and leave it on your windowsill.)

Bring the water to a boil then add your desired herbs. (Recommendation: Mugwort, vervain, lavender) Make sure to take note which ones need to be steeped longer than others in case you want to avoid any bitterness.

Add in any tinctures you may be using and essences if you work with those. (If it's not a full moon but you have a full moon essence, or lunar flower essence this could work perfectly well to help boost the potion's magic).

As you put in your tinctures and essences, (recommendation: valerian root tincture), stir three times clockwise with your intention for this ritual. If you are adding honey to your brew, this would be a good time to do so while you stir. Ask yourself what answers do you seek on your dream's journey? If you like to chant or say an incantation some helpful words to murmur as you stir could be: Reveal, Illuminate, Clarify, or some affirmations to say would be: I am ready to receive messages, I am ready to understand my depths etc.

Add warmed milk to help with ease to sleep. If you like a pretty alluring presentation, add a tiny pinch of edible glitter to make it more magical and swirl like the cosmos. If you are taking any supplements such as melatonin put it on the side and take the tea to your room.

Part IV - The Descent

Now that everything is set it's time for the journey to begin! Set your lights on low or turn off your lights and let your night light be your source. (If this is a nap during the day do not worry about the lights then. If you have trouble sleeping in the light use an eye mask). Also this may be obvious but I STRONGLY would not recommend using candles for this ritual as you will be sleeping and will not be able to monitor the flames. To add there are electric candles and fairy lights that come in different colors so those could help set the low-light mood and help you pick the color correspondence for your journey.

If you do have colored lights here are some correspondences I like to work with in colorology:

red light: dreams that can illuminate feelings attached to repressed primal emotions from anger, personal safety and sexuality.

orange light: dreams that are creative and induce imaginative fantasies and whimsical adventures.

gold light: dreams that help in exploring your mental state sometimes in what you feel you have control in or lack control or sources of mental stress.

Green light: dreams that help explore your inner creativity, self love, compassion, matters of the heart, family, connection to your roots and nature.

light blue/cyan light: dreams that help you explore your truth, suppressed secrets, help to clarify situations, highlight situations or truths you have been neglecting or not noticing.

dark blue/indigo light: dreams that help you foresee events, receive messages, connect with guides

Purple light: dreams that help you explore other worlds, the divine, the bigger picture, travel to other planes

Pink light: dreams that help connect with the inner child and our foundation of creativity, self love, old memories and things that have inspired us since we were kids.

white light: dreams that can help clarify truths in your personal journey and bring spiritual alignment.

Ultra Violet/black light: (Black light electric tealights are a thing!) Crossing the veil, revealing secrets, plunging into the deepest depths of subconsciousness

Colors are also very emotional thus it can very strongly from person to person so how you may feel about the color affecting the mood of the room will matter more than my own correspondences based on my personal experiences.

Cleanse the space with bells or shift the air around lightly. Highly recommend for this ritual is with incense smoke as scent and dreams go hand in hand and there are a number of dream smoke blends you could use. Additionally using air mists or floor washes could work as well. Clary sage oil would be fantastic to put in a dehumidifier/floorwash/air mist (or even just to sprinkle it across your bed). If you use an incense stick you can use it as a make-shift wand to channel your energy to clear the space and draw a circle of smoke around your bed. Wonderful incense choices to use would be lavender, jasmine, rose, rosemary or sage. You could also use a mugwort smoke herb bundle to clear the air and also heighten the energy of the space. Whatever calls to you and whichever is accessible.

Once your area is cleansed and the mood is set drink your tea and lie down the bed. Take a few deep breaths and think about your intention. What do you want to explore? What truths would you want to be revealed?

Some help to guide you on this journey would be some sleep meditative tracks you can find on youtube that goes on for 9 hours. Here is a favorite though there are many. Additionally there are binural beats or music set to frequencies to help with different energy pools in the body. Playing these on low volume in the background can help with your dream journey.

Tip: Do not set an alarm. This is best done when you have nothing to disturb you after your sleep. You should wake up gradually where you still have connection to your dream to recall it enough to write down.

Another Tip: If you like to use crystals, Amethyst is a great stone to help open up psychic connections and help with dreams. There are many other stones for dreaming and psychic connection but amethyst is the most common and accessible one.

Meditating for a half-hour before hand (or just chilling on your bed being relaxed and thinking about your intention) could help put you in the mood for the space. This also can give you time for the potion to infuse into you but also for you to have a bathroom break before going to bed. It takes around 50 minutes for liquid to pass through you and especially with warm tea it feels even faster. Take that window of time to meditate and be calm.

Once your intention is set, imagine it as a key. Close your eyes and envision a door. Whether this door be at the end of a hallway, in the trunk of a large tree in the depths of a forest, in a city's colorfully graffiti'd alleyway, hanging mysteriously as a portal before the shore of an empty beach, at the mouth of a dark cave, or floating in pure serene void is up to you. Take note of the details of the door. How does it make you feel? How do your surroundings make you feel? Take note of your breath. Remember your intention. Go towards that door.

Once you take the key and unlock it imagine what is on the other side. Whatever mood or emotion that comes up is valid. Even if you don't feel anything. Even if a memory of that day or an emotion attached to someone comes up suddenly do not feel like it is irrelevant, unimportant or a distraction. Anything you are feeling now is important to your journey. Just breathe. Visualize what is beyond the door or if your mind takes you on a journey towards feelings of that day or a train of thought towards something unrelated, follow it. Just relax into a deeper realm of sleep....

...

Part V - Dream Oracling

Once you are awaken reflect on the images you have seen. Sometimes dreams can be wild and full of random imagery but they all can be relevant. Write down what emotions came up alongside some of these images.

Sometimes dreams take a while to resurface and memories of them could pop up throughout the day. Take note on your phone's note app. A great site to decipher some random dream omens is dreammoods.com. Many times when I thought something could be random as hell, dreammoods helps to clarify what many common dreams could mean for most people. Often you should take dream omen sites with a grain of salt as dreams are highly subjective and matters to what you feel the most so if you read about a sign that did not resonate with your dream at all do not think you are doing it wrong, it's just that dreammoods cannot be a one-size-fits-all site. However it's resource can be super helpful to check up on.

In your dream journal or your note on your phone write down what your intention was, what emotions the dream could have bought up for you and what characters, places you've visited or situations you have been in. Dreams taking place in a house have a lot to say about your personal life, body and mental state. Dreams taking place in a city have a lot to say about your social life. In the woods it can be a narrative for a long term issue you have been trying to resolve or work through. In a school it can be highlighting lessons in life that you are working through. Dreams revolving around children can reflect on your own inner child. Dreams about animals closest to you can reflect on your emotional state and sense of compassion. Dreams where you have powers such as flight can show the abilities you have to your advantage towards solving problems. Dreams where you may feel powerless or chased can show situations where you feel trapped or problems you are avoiding.

It's important to note mostly every detail that occurs. Something even as benign as you driving a car can say a lot about your current state. Are you driving the car perfectly? It can mean that you feel confident in life and in control of the situation. Are you driving the car haphazardly or on the wrong side of the road? It can mean that you lack confidence and do not feel in control. Did you speed off the side of the road and land into a body of water?? It can mean that not only do you not feel confident but you have a lot of repressed emotions that can get the better of you. Are you often a passenger and not the driver? It can mean that you are not in control of your current situation and are acting passively.

If you need further insight or guidance then tarot can help tremendously with this. You can pull a card for what each situation or symbol meant or do a spread for the whole dream. You can pull a card for 1. What does this dream mean overall in regards to my intention? 2. What themes did it want to highlight? 3. What obstacles was it trying to bring to light? 4. What solutions was it trying to suggest? - The card underneath the stack shows the underlying energy/situation which is perfect to examine as we are explore the subconsciousness so remember to flip the deck over.

(You could also do the same for an oracle deck!)

If you like to use cartomancy/lenormand ask your deck about what situation was the dream about? Pull three cards. The center is the main theme. The combination of the two cards on either side is the waking situation that your dream is trying to highlight. When you combine the first two cards (from left to right) to the second two it will highlight how the situation is impacting your mind and the mood of your current state.

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I hope you find value to this dreaming ritual! There are a few steps but once again you could take whatever resonates with you and do your own version. (Plus not every detail is so crucial every time, take what is necessary towards the current situation). If you do get some wild dreams I'd love to hear them!

#lucid dreaming #dream oracle #witchblr #blog bedroom #blog dreams

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kirankickskancer · 3 years

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Halfway.

I am officially halfway through chemo - I have completed 4 rounds of Adriamycin and Cyclophosphamide, and survived the havoc it has wrecked on my body. I feel weary, not just physically but also mentally. It has already been a long haul and there is a lot of fight left to fight. But right now, as I lie awake in bed at 3am because I was so tired that I slept at 9pm, and also because I drink so much water that I have to pee like a racehorse in the middle of the night, I am allowing myself to feel victorious. I made it through the hardest part of treatment. My body fought hard for me every time it was pumped with poison and more cells were killed. My nail beds darkened, my nose hair fell so my nose was constantly dripping, my brain was only half working most of the time and the worst part of all was being incapacitated by tiredness, in all it’s various forms.

There is chemo-induced tiredness the first week when you cannot get out of bed and you don’t even have the mental energy to read or watch a show. Then there is the extreme fatigue related to low white-blood cell count exactly one week after chemo which feels like complete and utter depletion - your brain is back online but your body has been zapped like a character in a video game that is on its lowest energy bar. Finally there is the cumulative effect of all four rounds that makes you feel like you have aged a million years and need to sit down after doing anything. This is the worst one because I don’t know when it will get better and it means I can’t play with the kids the way I used to. I’m missing out on their summer: trips to the pool, playing in our new backyard, exploring the town, fruit-picking, play dates, day trips, beach trips - I can’t do any of the things we did last summer and it stinks. Whatever precious energy I have I reserve for them and I am so grateful on the days I feel well enough to even spend a few hours a day playing with them like I used to.

So here is my list of advice for anyone else who has to go through AC. (This may be TMI for anyone else!)

1. The nurse will tell you to take either Zofran or Compazine for the nausea. Take both! Be as aggressive as possible with the anti-nausea meds. I also started taking Omeprazole twice a day for the heartbearn and acid reflux after a terrible Round 2. Even then, be prepared for constant stomach discomfort. I had to change the way I eat to smaller frequent meals because it felt like everything I ate was about to come right back up.

2. There will be days you have diarrhea and constipation on the same day. Your digestive system will be a mess, keep track of your BM (bowel movements) like they tell you to. Err on the side of constipation because diarrhea sucks. I started off taking Senna every night but ended up with diarrhea. Then I only took it on days I didn’t poop.

3. Definitely suck ice chips during the Adriamycin infusion so you can preserve some feeling in your tongue. And invest in a big insulated water bottle with a straw. Your body wants you to hydrate and I was constantly thirsty and didn’t feel like drinking anything but ice-cold water which I sipped all day. I hate getting up in the middle of the night to pee and find it so hard to fall back asleep so right before bed I would use my Biotene dry mouth spray instead of drinking water and some nights I actually slept right through.

4. You will spend a lot of time with your thoughts as you lie in bed and the rest of the world goes about their business. Make them happy ones. Try not to Google yourself into a rabbit hole of depression with search terms like Metastatic Breast Cancer (1 in 3 cases of breast cancer end up metastatic, FYI.)

5. I love food so I would eat even on days I wasn’t hungry. It gave me a sense of normalcy to eat with the family. Texture becomes important when you start losing your sense of taste, I felt like eating crunchy foods. Fruit is great for hydrating when you don’t feel like drinking, yay for summer watermelon. You may want to over salt your food to compensate for taste, try squeezing limes instead. Eat whatever you feel like and whatever makes you happy not what you think you should be eating or what people tell you you should be eating. You have the rest of your life to make lifestyle changes. Right now you are in survival mode.

6. Aromatherapy. Your sense of smell changes dramatically so get things that make your room and your body smell nice. For me this was possibly the worst side effect. My own body smelled terrible to me. The smell in my room made me nauseated. I can’t explain it but everything smelled unfamiliar and toxic. Candles helped and so did being outside in the fresh air. Neutral smelling body products like talcum powder or kids Honest body wash also helped.

7. When you’re lying in bed all day, it’s hard to get a good nights sleep at the end of the day. Get some exercise if you can. If not, smoke some weed or have melatonin. It’s no fun being awake alone at night. See 4 above.

8. Friends. You need them more than you think you do. Text, call, visit, reach out. Your family is amazing and you couldn’t do this without them but no one can lift your spirits or distract you like good friends can. Work also helped me feel normal. There is a time for wallowing and then there is a time to just get on with your life.

9. Your newly bald scalp will feel sensitive. Buy some caps because it feels cold when you’re used to having a full head of hair. Buy a neck pillow because you will be sitting up in bed a lot. I hate my wig because it feels like I am pretending to be someone I’m not. You will wear it for others not yourself. Mosquitos love bald heads.

10. Love yourself. Love your body. Love your fighting spirit. If I could go back and tell me pre-cancer self anything, it would be that she is perfect. The extra pounds don’t matter, the house doesn’t have to be clean, the kids can watch all the TV they want, it’s okay. Self-care is not indulgence, it’s necessary. Treat yourself as you would treat the most important person in the world, because you are.

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vampire-named-gampire · 3 years

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Carry On Countdown - Day 22

Wow, watch me use the @carryon-countdown to plug my skating fic lmao

I don’t know if this counts, since Angelina is an OC and actually, Baz would totally make friends with/practically adopt a 17yo Russian girl, so I don’t know how unlikely it is, but it’s here. And also, I just really want to share more of On thin ice content, but the fic itself isn’t ready to be published yet so have this instead.

For context, Baz used to train in Russia aged 16-20, and now both him and Simon train in Montreal (no, idk why I chose Montreal out of all places but that’s how it is.) Also I think Gelya is the Russian diminutive/nickname used for the name Angelina, but I’m not sure. The fic is still in the works, so this scene is bound to change/expand (I did omit it a bit when writing because spoilers) but anyway, I’ll stop rambling now.

Prompt: Unlikely friends Word count: 1950 Rating: This scene is G, although the whole fic will be T or M

SIMON

The ride from the airport to the hotel is awful. Baz must’ve suspected this, because he made me sit in the front.

“Go on,” he said teasingly. “The only skater who has motion sickness.”

I have to say, sitting in the front almost didn’t make a difference. I may not know how to drive, but even I know you’re not supposed to drive like that. When the cab drops us off in front of the hotel, I don’t even bother hiding my relief. Baz laughs.

“I never want to experience this again,” I say, knowing full well that this is my life for the next week. The hotel might be close to the venue, but it’s still far enough for it to be a driving distance. I can only hope buses are less deadly than cabs.

“You know, Moscow traffic is actually tame compared to the rest of Russia,” Baz smirks, handing me my bags.

“Well then I never want to see the rest of Russia,” I mutter, slinging my duffel bag over my shoulder and stepping through the automated hotel doors. Baz scoffs and follows me.

This hotel is fancy – much fancier than the hotels we usually stay at. Baz doesn’t seem phased by it at all, the posh bastard. I bet the hotels he stays at when he’s on vacation are at least twice as posh.

He does, however, seem phased when someone yells “Basil!” across the lobby. Before either of us can register what’s going on, a small figure in a red jacket runs towards us at full speed and crashes into Baz, making him emit a surprised oof sound.

The moment I realize the figure is actually Angelina Nuriyeva is the moment she starts speaking in fast Russian. I don’t understand a thing, but Baz seems to, because he laughs and hugs her back.

I knew Baz and Angelina were friends, but I didn’t think they were this close. I mean, they’re the exact polar opposites; Angelina is an actual sunshine (she’s always hugging and smiling at everyone) and Baz is… Baz. (He’s a big softie, I know that, but he goes through great efforts to appear cold and closed off.)

But here he is, ruffling Angelina’s hair and telling her something in Russian. (I’m suddenly met with the realisation that being in Moscow means I’ll get to hear a lot more of Baz’s Russian. I am very much not complaining at this prospect, even if I don’t understand a thing of what they’re saying.)

Angelina is nodding along and she pulls out her phone to show him something, but that’s when Baz stops her, suddenly speaking in English.

“Wait, I think in the interest of Snow, we should switch to English. He already looks lost enough as it is,” he says.

“No, no, I’m fine, by all means…” I start, but I’m soon cut off by Angelina.

“Yes, of course! I’m sorry, Simon! Come here, it’s so good to see you,” she says and hugs me. (This is what I mean when I say Angelina is a sunshine.)

“Good to see you too,” I nod.

“I was just about to show Basil how his houseplants are doing. Do you want to see too?” she asks.

“Houseplants?” I don’t bother hiding the surprise in my voice. Since when does Baz like houseplants? His flat in Montreal doesn’t have any, spare the tiny cactus on the windowsill.

“I had a lot of houseplants when I still lived here, but I couldn’t take them with me on the plane when I moved, so Gelya took them in her care,” he explains, as if he’s reading my mind.

“Georgy is doing amazing but Ilya went a bit floppy. I changed his earth so now I’m hoping he gets better,” Angelina says, showing Baz a picture of two houseplants, side by side, one of them (Ilya?) looking slightly wilted.

“When it goes floppy, we say it wilts, and we don’t say earth, we say soil,” Baz corrects her. If I was Angelina, I’d probably be annoyed right now, but she just smiles at him.

“Thank you. It’s so much harder to learn English now that there’s no one here to practice with me,” she sighs.

“You know you can call me any time and we can practice,” Baz offers.

“Wait, wait, wait,” I stop them both. There is so much new information I have to process. “You had houseplants? And you named them Russian names? And you taught her English?” (That would actually explain why Angelina’s English is so good.)

“Yes, Snow, are you keeping up?”

“And when he gave them up, he wrote me a whole notebook on how to take care of them,” Angelina chimes in. “And another notebook with English grammar.”

Maybe I do have trouble keeping up. Who is this Baz? (And why is he so attractive?)

“I never thought of you as a houseplant kind of bloke,” I shrug. “You don’t have any houseplants in Montreal.”

“I’m still mourning the loss of my old children.” Baz deadpans before turning back to Angelina. “Show me Alyosha. He was always my favourite.”

BAZ

Unsurprisingly, the jet-lag catches up with me right when it’s time to go to bed. I don’t know why I was naïve enough to believe I won’t need melatonin when dealing with an eight-hour time difference. I better take it now, before it’s too late.

I sigh and throw the covers back before picking up my phone to check the time. However, a text message notification from Snow grabs my attention before I can do that.

Is he nervous again? It would make sense, since this is a big competition for him. Would I be able to sneak into his room and sneak out the next morning unnoticed? I doubt that. There are only athletes staying on our floor, the coaches, press and competition staff are all on different floors, and I doubt the athletes would pay us much attention, but it’s still risky.

I’d much rather risk a few weird looks than have Simon spiral into panic two days before a major competition, though. I decide I’ll go to his room if that’s what he needs.

Maybe I should check why he’s even texting me before I devise any plans.

SS: do u have melatonine? SS: jet lag

I sigh in relief. He’s not having a mental breakdown. He’s just jet-lagged. (Which is a bit strange for Snow, but I suppose even his circadian rhythm can take a blow from time to time.)

BP: It’s spelled melatonin and yes, I have it. You can come get it if you still need it BP: Room 254

SS: yes ik where u r SS: I’ll b right over

I sit on the edge of the bed and wait for Snow to knock on my door. He’s staying a few corridors down, in room 273, so it takes him a few minutes. I jump up when I hear his knock.

He’s standing in front of my door, wearing joggers, a hoodie and those damned glasses of his again. His hair is messed up, like he’s been tossing and turning too.

“I thought you didn’t get jet-lagged,” I say, stepping aside to let him in. He settles on the edge my bed while I rummage my luggage for melatonin supplements.

“I don’t get sleep jet-lagged, but I do get food jet-lagged,” he says.

“What does that even mean, Snow?”

“It means it’s lunchtime in Canada right now and I’m so hungry I can’t sleep.”

I bite back a laugh. He’s an idiot. (An adorable one but an idiot nonetheless.) “You don’t need melatonin, Snow, you need this,” I say, throwing a granola bar at him. He startles, but manages to catch it.

“You’re just giving this to me?” he asks, audibly surprised. (Which is ridiculous. He gives me food all the time and here he is, questioning my generosity over a fucking granola bar.)

“No, Snow, pay up. Fifty rubbles.”

“I don’t have any Russian money,” he laughs, tearing the wrapping open. He’s going to get crumbs all over my bed, but I don’t shoo him away. Instead, I finally find the melatonin supplements and take one with some water. “Do you still want one?” I ask.

“Do you have any more granola bars?”

I laugh and pass him another one before sitting down next to him on the bed.

“Are you nervous?” I ask, just to make sure he’s really okay.

“Right now? I’m just hungry,” he says, tearing open the second granola bar.

“Right,” I nod.

“Baz. Are you doing that thing where you’re worrying about me again?”

“A bit,” I admit.

“Stop,” he says like I can just turn it off like a tap. (I wish I could.) We sit in silence for a while, me thinking about how much easier my life would be if I just stopped worrying about Simon Snow and him chewing through his granola bar. “I didn’t know you and Angelina were such good friends,” he finally says.

“We trained together for four years,” I shrug, but it’s not just that. The training environment in Russia was intense. It’s a bloodbath to even get on the national team there, so of course it’s intense, but I think every other skater the rink was looking at me sideways because I was an outlier. I wasn’t Russian, I didn’t speak Russian and I think they felt like I didn’t belong there. (I know now that I really didn’t.) They eventually accepted me and by the time I left Russia, even the ones who refused to speak during my first year there were sad to see me go.

But Gelya was nice to me from the start. She was only thirteen at the time and didn’t speak any English, but she clapped for me when I did something well and cheered me on when I was having a bad day. (Thanks to her, davai was one of the first Russian words I learned.) She brought me homemade pyraniki on special occasions and when I got injured and had to go back to England to have surgery, she sent me get well soon cards all the way from Russia and she made the entire rink sign them.

That’s just who she is. She’s this nice to everyone and it didn’t matter to her if I was Russian or English, I was just another person at her rink who she could bring biscuits to. Over the four years that I’ve lived there, she became like a little sister to me.

“Baz?” Snow’s voice snaps me from my thoughts. “You seem tired. I’m going to go.”

I have half a mind not to ask him to stay here. (We both know we can’t do that.) “Okay,” I say instead. He stands up and throws the granola wrappers in the bin. I stand up too, to walk him to the door (I have manners), but he waves at me to sit back down.

“It’s fine,” he says.

“Will you be able to sleep?”

“If my hunger doesn’t get to me again, yes,” he laughs. He’s already by the door.

“Wait.” I stand up and grab the last granola bar from my bag, offering it to him. “Just in case,” I explain. I want him to stay here, to make sure he sleeps well and doesn’t spend the night worrying about the competition, but I can’t do that, so this is the least I can do.

“Thanks,” he smiles, tucking it in his pocket. Then he hugs me briefly and presses a kiss to my cheek. “Sleep well.”

“You too.”

And he’s out the door.

#if any russians are reading this #1. i'm sorry simon thinks you're terrible drivers #2. how would you omit the name angelina?#i was watching the olympic channel once and someone referred to angelina melnikova as gelya #and that's about the amount of knowledge i have on the topic #well if it's the wrong diminutive i can always change it later #also yes baz speaks russian because of course he does #i mean he's baz #uh what else do i have to say #i think writing a few scenes ahead will help me unclog the slump i'm currently stuck on #i just need to get the boys through two more weeks of filler content before they can go to russia and the fun begins #also i'm really tired from working on two major projects so writing my wip for coc is kind of my way of taking a break i guess?#my original idea for today's prompt was shepard and mordelia #because i think they'd get along splendidly #ok now to general tags #coc 2020 #carry on countdown 2020 #carry on #wayward son #any way the wind blows #awtwb #simon snow #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #baz pitch #snowbaz #snowbaz fic #snowbaz fanfiction #on thin ice #my writing

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xseildnasterces · 3 years

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if.

I’ve never been a fan of ice-cream. I remember when I was younger everyone thought I was a complete weirdo (not just because I didn’t like ice-cream…), but it was certainly something that people thought was strange. However, there is one particular flavour of Ben and Jerry’s ice-cream that I absolutely ADORE. It’s a ‘special’ flavour that is only available for very limited periods, so imagine my absolute excitement when I was trying to find something to order for dessert yesterday on my delivery app and I saw that it was currently the special flavour!? I ordered a full tub for the freezer and also a scoop to eat last night. It is literally the best flavour of ice-cream I have ever had, and I love it so much! It certainly cheered me up.

I had Finnish this morning but felt completely lost. I felt like I didn’t know anything and just didn’t know what I was doing. I’m not sure why. Perhaps I just need to do some more work at home and actually spend more time on it, but considering the other two students in my class have Finnish partners, I cannot be too surprised that I am not learning as fast as they are. They can practice everyday and already have bilingual children or have lived in Finland, so of course, this makes a huge difference.

The weather was beautiful yesterday, but as always, I was in a bit of a weekend lull and spent the whole day doing absolutely nothing. I was feeling a little down for a number of reasons. My sister is home and being an absolute nightmare daughter and driving my parents crazy. Minutes after arriving home and surprising my parents she went mental about her room and just exploded like a volcano. To say she had been away for one year and this was her attitude when she returned is just ridiculous. I’m surprised my parents didn’t tell her to just get back on a plane and go back to Bangladesh. I feel sad that they are having to deal with her but also jealous that I am not there. It almost feels like someone is in my place – as stupid as that may sound. I’m anxious for when I do go home because I know it’s not going to be the same. Don’t get my wrong. I am very pleased she is home and safe, but her attitude sucks and I know that we will argue like hell when I am at home. The last few times I have been home have been some of the best in my life, but knowing that my sister will be there next time I go home makes me sad in one way, because I know it will not be the same. This also means Christmas will not be the same, and the last two Christmas’ really have been the best I can remember from my adult life. R hasn’t replied to my voice messages since Thursday which also makes me feel a little down. Although I do not believe I have done anything wrong, my anxiety does not recognise that and believe I did indeed do something wrong. Not only that, but it just increases my feelings of loneliness which really are rife right now. Feelings of loneliness are also coming from D not replying as actively as usual, and H, M and F going out for days out without me. I feel horrendous feeling sad about this. They are a family and I am always telling H to ensure they do things as a family and not with me because I do not want to take up all their time, yet when I see they have been out and adventuring somewhere I feel sad that I was not invited. When I think about it properly, I do not believe I am sad about not being invited, I am sad that I do not have friends to do it with.

I have noticed that I am feeling sad a lot at the moment. I feel very in my head and full of confusion. I definitely miss physical touch from just about anyone, in terms of hugs or just being held. I really miss just being held and comforted, but I also miss making-out and sex. Both of which I have not indulged in for almost two years (or more?)… blah. For some reason this is something that has really been on my mind recently and I am not too sure why. It’s just ‘there’ in my head, and… nothing helps to make it go away. Nothing.

My face hurts today. My skin is still a mess despite my new skincare prescriptions. I know it will take about three months to see any difference, but regardless its painful. Having weird lumps on your face, a.k.a. cystic acne is just so sore and attempting to pop then to relive the pressure doesn’t only not work, but also makes the whole thing worse. Yet, it’s really hard to restrain.

I feel that this post is very much like little thoughts and bits ‘n’ pieces just being thrown together, and I guess it sort of is. I am missing travel so very much. I want to explore, and I feel as though I have been tied down with a ball and chain for the last year and beyond. I know most people have felt the same, yet I still feel incredibly sad and depressed about it. I feel frustrated, anxious, agitated and more than anything just so fatigued. I feel a constant sense of exhaustion each and every day. If I do not make myself to into the office during the week, I could very happily lay down on the sofa and do nothing else but sleep. I had my monthly massage on Wednesday which certainly made me feel better, but I also ended up feeling pressured into buying some melatonin gummies to aid my sleep. I’m usually not someone easily pressured into buying things, but for some reason I was not in the mood to make the situation awkward, so I bought them anyway. I think they are helping slightly with aiding my sleep. Perhaps they are in fact just acting as a placebo, but either way I appear to be falling asleep early in the evening so that has to be worth something right?

In two weeks, I will be fully vaccinated and hope I will feel a little safer doing things. Of course, not right away, nor directly after the two weeks have passed to ensure utmost immunity. Yet it will ease my fear whenever I am able to fly home, and it will ease my fear of spending so much time in the office. It will also ease my fear of removing my mask for a couple of seconds whilst I take a sip of my drink whilst walking down the street, and it will ease my fear of just doing things in general. This can only be positive. It may also help my poor little dry hands that have certainly become a victim of the pandemic with my excessive handwashing and hand sanitising every single time I move.

* * * * * * *

To prove my point regarding my constant need to sleep… I wrote all of the above around 2 hours ago, put the laptop down for five minutes and found myself asleep for over an hour. I just can’t help it. I honestly find it hard to get through the day without having a nap to reset and enable me to feel more focused and alive. I have also woken up to absolutely crazy weather. The windows are shaking, and the rain is hitting the windows at full force. The week has been wonderful regarding weather. It has been so hot and sunny and now this. I have no idea what is going on. It honestly feels like I woke up some place else! As much as I hate the rain, it certainly makes me feel much less guilty about not doing anything and spending my day indoors doing very little.

It’s less than a month until my birthday. This time last year it was a weird feeling to be celebrating a birthday during a pandemic, now it seems the norm. My birthday was made special last year by a number of people, yet I’m unsure if that will be the same this year. L is no longer my ‘friend’ due to them ghosting me, yet everyone else who made my day special will still be doing what they can to do the same this year. I know it sucks for everyone to celebrate their birthday during the pandemic, but even more so here when I am so far from everyone I love, and I live completely alone. I think in a way it emphasises the loneliness I have been feeling throughout this period.

This has been such a random post. I feel like I wanted to write, and had so much today, yet when it came to put ‘pen to paper’ I had no idea what I wanted to say, nor how to. I guess I feel a little overwhelmed – yet do not know why. Let’s hope it’s a good week. I’m ready for something exciting to happen, because right now, life is just bobbing along and as I said in therapy this week – I feel like by the end of this we will have lost at least two years of our lives. Even more annoying, is the fact it was the last two years of my 20s. There was so much I wanted to do and ‘cross off my list’ before turning 30, and I know I’m not there yet, but it’s certainly coming and I feel as though I will spend time grieving for the time I have lost. I know some people will think that is dramatic, and perhaps it is, but at the end of the day we will most likely have lost two years of life, and losing two years of the ability to do anything you love is something to be sad about.

[Blog title: If - Lucy Spraggan].

#lucy spraggan #if #me #life #update #personal #diary #journal #write #writing #thoughts #feelings #memories #memory #thought #feeling

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maximelebled · 3 years

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2019 & 2020

Hello everyone! So yeah, this yearly blog post is about three... four months late... it covers two years now.

I did have a lot of things written last year, last time, but the more things have changed, the more I’ve realized that a lot of things I talked about on here... were because I lacked enough of a social life to want to open up on here.

In a less awkwardly-phrased way, what I’m saying is, I was coping.

Not an easy thing to admit to in public by any means, but I reckon it’s the truth. Over the past two years, I’ve made more of an effort to build better & healthier friendships, dial back my social media usage a bit (number 1 coping strategy), not tie all my friendships to games I play, especially Dota (number 2 coping strategy), so that I could be more emotionally healthy overall.

Pictured: me looking a whole lot like @dril on the outside, although not so much on the inside. (Photo by my lovely partner.)

To some degree, I believe it’s important to be able to talk about yourself a bit more openly in a way that is generally not encouraged nor made easy on other social networks (looking at you, Twitter). I know that 2010-me would be scared to approach 2020-me; and it’s my hope that what I am writing here would not help him with that, but also help him become less of an insecure dweeb faster. 😉

Not that recent accomplishments have stopped me from being any less professionally anxious. Sometimes the impostor syndrome just morphs into... something else.

Anyway, what I’m getting at is, the first reason it took me until this year to finish last year’s post is because, with my shift in perspective, and these realizations about myself, I do want to keep a lot more things private... or rather, it’s that I don’t feel the need to share them anymore? And that made figuring out what to write a fair bit harder.

The other reason I didn’t write sooner is because, in 2018, I wrote my "year in review” post right before I became able to talk about my then-latest cool thing (my work on Valve’s 2018 True Sight documentary). So I then knew I’d have to bring it up in the 2019 post. But then, I was asked to work on the 2019 True Sight documentary, and I know it was going to air in late January 2020, so I was like, “okay, well, whatever, it, I’ll just write this yearly recap after that, so I don’t miss the coach this time”. So I just ended up delaying it again until I was like... “okay, whatever, I’ll just do both 2019 and 2020 in a single post.”

I think I can say I’ve had the privilege of a pretty good 2019, all things considered. And also of a decent 2020, given the circumstances. Overall, 2019 was a year of professional fulfillment; here’s a photo taken of me while I was managing the augmented reality system at The International 2019! (The $35 million dollar Dota 2 tournament that was held, this that year, in Shanghai.)

If I’d shown this to myself 10 years ago it would’ve blown my mind, so I guess things aren’t all that bad...!

I’ve brought up two health topics in these posts before: weight & sleep.

As for the first, the situation is still stable. If it is improving, it is doing so at a snail’s pace. But quite frankly, I haven’t put in enough effort into it overall. Even though I know my diet is way better than it was five or six years ago, I’ve only just really caught up with the “how it should have been the entire time” stage. It is a milestone... but not necessarily an impressive one. Learning to cook better things for myself has been very rewarding and fulfilling, though. It’s definitely what I’d recommend if you need to find a place to start.

As for sleep, throughout 2019, I continued living 25-hour days for the most part. There were a few weeks during which I slowed down the process, but it continued on going. Then, in late December of 2019, motivated by the knowledge that sleep is such a foundational pillar of your health, I figured I really needed to take things seriously, and I managed to go on a three month streak of mostly-stable sleep! (See the data above.)

Part of what helped was willingly stopping to use my desktop computer once it got too late in the day, avoiding Dota at the end of the day as much as possible, and anything exciting for that matter... and, as much as that sounds like the worst possible stereotype, trying to “listen to my body” and recognizing when I was letting stress and anxiety build up inside me, and taking a break or trying to relax.

Also, a pill of melatonin before going to bed; but even though it’s allegedly not a problem to take melatonin, I figured I should try to rely on it as little as possible.

Unfortunately, that “good sleep” streak was abruptly stopped by a flu-like illness... it might have been Covid-19. The symptoms somewhat matched up, but I was lucky: they were very mild. I fully recovered in just over a week. I coughed a bit, but not that much. If it really was that disease, then I got very lucky.

(Pictured: another photo by my lovely SO, somewhere in Auvergne.)

My sleep continued to drift back to its 25-hour rhythm, and I only started resuming these efforts towards the fall... mostly because living during the night felt like a better option with the summer heat (no AC here). I thought about doing that the other way (getting up at 3am instead of going to bed at 7am), and while it’d make more sense temperature-wise, that would have kept me awake when there were practically no people online, and I was trying to have a better social life then, even if had to be purely online due to the coronavirus, so... yeah.

I’ve been working from home since 2012! I also lived alone for a number of years since then. For the most part, it hasn’t been a great thing for my mental health. Having had a taste of what being in an office was like thanks to a couple weeks in the Valve offices, I had the goal of beginning to apply at a few places here and there in March/April. Then the pandemic hit, so those plans are dead in the water. I wanted 2020 to be the year in which I’d finally stop being fully remote, but those plans are now dead in the water.

Now, at the end of the year, I don’t really know if I want to apply at any places. There’s a small handful of studios whose work really resonates with me, creatively speaking, and whose working conditions seem to be alright, at least from what I hear... but, and I swear I’m saying this in the least braggy way possible... there’s very little that beats having been able to work on what I want, when I want, and how much I want.

This kind of freelance status can be pretty terrifying sometimes, but I’ve managed (with some luck, of course) to reach a safe balance, a point at which I’ve effectively got this luxury of being able to only really work on what I want, and never truly overwork myself (at least by the standards of most of the gaming industry). It’s a big privilege and I feel like it’d take a lot to give it up.

Besides the things I mentioned before, one thing I did that drastically improved my mental health was being introduced to a new lovely group of friends by my partner! I started playing Dungeons & Dragons with them, every weekend or so! And in the spirit of a rising tide lifting all boats, I managed to also give back to our lovely DM, by being a sort of “AM” (audio manager)... It’s been great having something to look forward to every week.

Something to look forward to... I’ve heard about the concept of “temporal anchors”. I had heard about how the reason our adult years suddenly pass by in a blur is because we now have more “time” that’s already in our brains, but now I’m more convinced that it’s because we’re going from a very school routine such as the one schools impose upon us, to, well... practically nothing.

I thought most of my years since 2011 have been a blur, but none have whooshed by like 2020 has, and I reckon part of that is because I’ve (obviously) gone out far far less, and most importantly there wasn’t The Big Summer Event That The International Is, the biggest yearly “temporal anchor” at my disposal. The anticipation and release of those energies made summer feel a fair bit longer... and this year, summer was very much a blur for me. In and out like the wind.

I guess besides that, I haven’t really had that much trouble with being locked down. I had years of training for that, after all. Doesn’t feel like I can complain. 😛

(Pictured: trip to Chicago in January of 2019... right when the polar vortex hit!)

Work was good in 2019, and sparser in 2020. Working with Valve again after the 2018 True Sight was a very exciting opportunity. At the time, in February of 2019, I was out with my partner on little holiday trips around my region, and, after night fell, on the way back, we decided to stop in a wide open field, on a tiny countryside path, away from the cities, to try and do some star-gazing, without light pollution getting in the way.

And it’s there and then that I received their message, while looking at the stars with my SO! The timing and location turned that into a very vivid memory...

I then got to spend a couple weeks in their offices in late April / early May. I was able to bring my partner along with me to Washington State, and we did some sightseeing on the weekends.

(Pictured: part of a weekend trip in Washington. This was a dried up lakebed.)

After that, I worked on the Void Spirit trailer in the lead to The International. In August, those couple weeks in Shanghai were intense. Having peeked behind the curtain and seen everything that goes into production really does give me a much deeper appreciation for all the work that goes unseen.

Then after that, in late 2019, there was my work on the yearly True Sight documentary, for the second time. In 2018, I’d been tasked with making just two animated sequences, and I was very nervous since that was my first time working directly with Valve; my work then was fairly “sober”, for lack of a better term.

(Pictured: view from my hotel room in Shanghai.)

For the 2019 edition, I had double the amount of sequences on my plate, and they were very trusting of me, which was very reassuring. I got to be more technically ambitious, I let my style shine through (you know... if it’s got all these gratuitous light beams, etc.), and it was real fun to work on.

At the premiere in Berlin, I was sitting in the middle of the room (in fact, you could spot me in the pre-show broadcast behind SirActionSlacks; unfortunately I had forgotten to bring textures for my shirt). Being in that spot when my shots started playing, and hearing people laughing and cheering at them... that’s an unforgettable memory. The last time I had experienced something like that was having my first Dota short film played at KeyArena in 2015, the laughter of the crowd echoing all around me... I was shaking in my seat. Just remembering it gets my heart pumping, man. It’s a really unique feeling.

So I’m pretty happy with how that work came out. I came out of it having learned quite a few new tricks too, born out of necessity from my technical ambitions. Stuff I intend to put to use again. I’m really glad that the team I worked with at Valve was so kind and great to work with. After the premiere, I received a few more compliments from them... and I did reply, “careful! You might give me enough confidence to apply!”, to which one of them replied, “you totally should, man.” But I still haven’t because I’m a massive idiot, haha. Well, I still haven’t because I don’t think I’m well-rounded enough yet. And also because, like I alluded to before, I think I’m in a pretty good situation as it is.

It’s not the first encouragements I had received from them, too; there had been a couple people from the Dota team who, at the end of my two week stay in the offices, while I was on my way out, told me I should try applying. But again, I didn’t apply because I’m a massive idiot.

(Pictured: view from the Valve offices.)

To be 200% frank, even though there’s been quite a few people who’ve followed my work throughout the years, comments on Reddit and YouTube, etc. who’ve all said things along the lines of “why aren’t you working for them ?”, well... it’s not something I ever really pursued. I know it’s a lot of people’s dream job, but I never saw it that way. I feel like, if it ever happened to me... sure, that could be cool! But I don’t know if it’s something I really want, or even that I should want?

And if you add “being unsure” to what I consider to be a lack of experience in certain things, well... I really don’t think I’d be a good candidate (yet?), and having seen how busy these people are on the inside, the last thing I want to do is waste their time with a bad application. That would be the most basic form of courtesy I can show to them.

Besides, Covid-19 makes applying to just about any job very hard, if not outright impossible right now. And for a while longer, I suspect.

(Pictured: the Tuilière & Sanadoire rocks.)

I’m still unhappy about the amount of “actual animation” I get to do overall since I like to work on just about every step of the process in my videos, but well. It’s getting better. One thing I am happy with though, is “solving problems”. And new challenges. Seeking the answers to them, and making myself be able to see those problems, alongside entire projects, from a more “holistic” way, that is to say, not missing the forest for the trees.

It’s hard to explain, and even just the use of the term “holistic” sounds like some kind of pompous cop-out... but looking back on how I handled projects 5 years ago vs. now, I see the differences in how I think about problems a lot. And to some extent I do have my time on Valve contracts to thank a LOT in helping me progress there.

Anyway, I’m currently working on a project that I’m very interested & creativefuly fulfilled by. But it has nothing to do with animation nor Dota, for a change! There are definitely at least two other Dota short films I want to make, though. We’ll see how that goes.

Happy new year & take care y’all.

#year in review

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yunggumii · 4 years

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after reading your rules can i please have a scenario with asahi with reader braiding his hair while they’re just relaxing! tons of fluff and maybe some short nsfw ;) hehe thank you so much but you don’t have to if you don’t want to 💓

ofc !! i feel like asahi is such an underrated character and needs more love (;´д｀) #moreloveforazumane

smells like lavender

azumane x gn!reader

summary: you take care of your exhausted boyfriend after a long, late-night practice

includes: fluff, light cursing, and sexual references

wc: 1.229K

scenario below the cut

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The water was torrid as it filled up the tub, its steam rising from the surface; your boyfriend Azumane was at practice all day and you figured that once he got home he would be exhausted and sweaty, ergo you decided to start a bath for him. The aroma of the lavender scented essential oil permeated the washroom as it infused itself with the water’s vapor. Suddenly, you hear the familiar sound of the front door unlocking.

“Welcome home, babe~” you greet Asumane with a cordial smile, “How did practice go?”

“Hey, Y/N. Practice was good, Coach worked us pretty hard tonight.” He let out a spent sigh, leaning against the wall for support as he removed his shoes, “I can already feel my muscles stiffening.”

“Aw, you poor thing.” you say with a sympathetic frown, “Good thing I have a bath waiting for you! Hopefully that’ll help relax you a bit.”

Asahi lifts his head, his unfeigned expression warming your heart, “You’re so thoughtful, Y/N. I really appreciate that.” He places his lips upon your forehead, pecking it softly as he brings you in for a hug.

“I love you.”

You giggle, inhaling deeply before you speak, “I love you too, but you really need to bathe.”

Azumane chuckles, releasing you from his embrace, “Alright, alright. Let’s go.” You take his hand in yours, leading him into the bathroom; the air was marginally humid when you entered since the majority of the steam leaked through the bottom threshold, but the water was still hot. The both of you stripped, tossing your clothes into a hamper and grabbing the soaps and towels and placing them near the edge of the tub. You dip your foot in, the warmth of the water enveloping your form as you submerged.

“Wow, this feels nice.” You say as a prolonged sigh slips from your mouth; Asahi steps in, causing the water’s level to rise a bit. He groans, his back resting against the wall of the tub.

“Yeah, smells nice too. Is this lavender?” he asks.

You nod your head, a small yet proud smile spreads across your face, “Mhm!”

“Good choice. It’s very calming.” he says, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

“I figured you’d say that.” You say with a giggle as you bring your body closer to him.

“Okay, let’s clean you up!”

Asahi lets out a grunt as you grab onto his arm, pulling him upright, “We’ll start with washing your hair.” You cup your hands beneath the surface and lift them above his head, letting the water flow as you pour. Reaching for the bottle of shampoo, you pop open the cap and let the soap ooze onto your hand. A low moan fell from his lips as you pressed your fingers into his scalp, spreading the suds throughout his locks.

“You must be enjoying this, hmm?” You say with a chuckle. Asahi adored having his hair played with; whether you were brushing it, styling it, or pulling it—his hair was a total weak spot and doing anything to it never ceased to arouse him.

“Hell yeah, I am.” he replies.

“Good~” you say as tug on his hair playfully, eliciting another moan from him.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to toy with him more; to tease him while he’s drained of his energy and can’t resist, but you knew that moment wouldn’t last long—his posture seemed to slouch the longer he sat in the warm water. You rinse the shampoo from his hair, the bubbles sliding down his form and onto the surface of the water. “Time to wash your body!” You say, grabbing the body wash and drizzling the soap on a loofah. You circled the mesh-ball around his chest, then his stomach; dragging it over his defined abs. As you splash the suds from his body, you feel his hands grip your wrists gingerly.

“I know I said it already, but I really do appreciate this.” His words were candid and you could tell; Asahi was the type of person to show his gratitude frequently, regardless if it was on the court, or at home and no matter how small the favor was.

You grin ear to ear, bringing your hands to cup his face, “I appreciate you giving me the opportunity, babe~”

He places his lips on yours, smiling into the kiss, “Thank you, Y/N.”

You hum in response, pulling away slowly to speak, “Let’s get out of the tub how, okay?”

Azumane nods his head and reaches for the towels, passing the first one to you. The both of you step out of the tub, the water dripping off your bodies as you stand on the mat. Suddenly, a shiver shoots down your spine, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms and legs.

“I’m freezing.” You say between clattering teeth. The cold air struck the uncovered parts of your body as you left the bathroom.

“Here.” Azumane says as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to his warm body—he smelled like the lavender oil. You both enter the bedroom and get dressed; Azumane sports a pair of black running shorts, his underwear peaking above the waist band, while you wore a pair of grey sweatpants and one of his many stolen sweatshirts. You jump onto the bed, burrowing yourself underneath the comforter as Asumane dries off his hair. He tosses the towel into the hamper and pulls out a brush from the dresser’s drawer, running it through his dampened locks.

“Ooh, ooh! Can I braid your hair?” You ask, peaking your head up from the mountain of blankets.

Azumane chuckles, “Of course.” He sits at the edge of the bed, his back facing you as you scoot forward. You grab hold of his wet hair, separating them into three, even sections. You begin to weave the hair, overlapping them continuously until you finally get into a rhythm; it’s slow at first, but the more you braid, the faster your pace gets. You tie the end with a rubber band, letting the finished braid fall limp against his back. Azumane reached his hand behind his head, running it over the braid, “Woah, this braid is really good! There aren’t any stray pieces hanging loose.”

You smile proudly, placing your hands on your hips, “Well, I am the best braider ever, so it makes sense~”

He spins his body around, facing you.

“You’re so cute.” He says as he playfully ruffles your hair. He kisses your cheek before making his way to the top of the bed. He pats the spot next to him, signaling for you to lay next to him. You comply, crawling over and laying your head on his chest. He wraps his arm around you, placing his hand on your hip. You could hear the slow beating of his heart. With a smile on your face, you speak, “I love you, Azumane.”

He squeezes your waist, placing his lips upon the top of your head.

“I love you too. Sweet dreams, Y/N~”

You yawned, the melatonin flowing through your bloodstream. You don’t remember being this tired since just a moment ago, you were full of energy; but allas, the heaviness of your eyelids begin to weigh them down until they finally closed—your sight consumed by the still darkness of slumber as you drift off to sleep.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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#haikyuu!! anime #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#azumane asahi #asahi azumane #hq asahi

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