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deesblanketfort · 4 months

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Sick and regressed ☆´ˎ˗ ︶︶︶

Well, while I'm writting this I'm bedridden (likely with covid), and for some reason I really want to spend my sick days regressed and take something good out of it at least.

Getting comfy!

🧦: Pajamas time! Is there anything more regressor-coded than cozy printed pajamas, an animal kigurumi or onesie? I'd say no. And since I'm staying on bed, I'm surely wearing those all day long.

🛏️: Bed setup! When you're bedridden, a bed table ends up being really useful in case you want to do stuff that requires a flat surface. If you have one of those, lucky you! I, however had to improvise with a smooth wooden board standing on my lap, therefore any kind of long, resilient and flat surface can do the job just fine.

🧦: Blanket fort! Alternatively, if you're able to roam around your house or have someone to help, you can build a blanket fort over your bed or a comfy surface to stay in!

🛏️: Sick gear! Runny nose? Bring tissues. Got a fever? Make a cold damp towel for your forehead. Tummy aches or localized pain? Make a hot water compress. And make sure to keep track of the meds you're taking, of course.

🧦: Get your plushies! Since what I got is very contagious close contact with anyone is out of the table, but my stuffies are completely immune to sickness and ready to cuddle! (I'll have to wash them afterwards to disinfect them though)

Games and activities!

🎮: Viddy games! Either on computer, phone or a console (handheld preferred), videogames are perfectly stationary and don't require much movement from your part.

🖍️: Table games! Table games are also stationary and can be played right from your bed if you have a bed table, although most games need other people to play with you, your plushies can serve this purpose.

🎮: Play pretend! Playing pretend can be limited when you're bedridden, but there are some scenarios you're perfectly able to do! Such as pretending you're a shop owner and your stuffies are the clients, pretending your stuffies are your doctors/nurses taking care of you, or vice versa. Things like tea parties and pretend schools are still on the table!

🖍️: Arts and crafts! Being sick won't stop me from wanting to draw and color, since I can do it from my bed anyways! Aside from drawing and coloring, I might as well do some collage and paper craft, just might need help to clean up afterwards.

🎮: Cartoon time! No better opportunity to (re)watch your favorite cartoons than when you're sick, bedridden and bored, right? And since this brings me comfort, here are some cartoon episodes that center on being sick: Bumpy and the Wise Old Wolfhound (Bluey), Steve Gets The Sniffles (Blues Clues), Bear Flu (We Bare Bears), Doctor Daisy M.D (Mickey Mouse Clubhouse), Arthur's Chicken Pox (Arthur)

Snack time!

🍼: Hot drinks! Specially if you're with a cold or a sore throat in general, hot drinks such as hot cocoa and tea are perfect for warming up an icky throat.

🧁: Spices for a sore throat! Like mint, honey, ginger and lemon. I'm sure there's plentiful of drinks you can make using these!

🍼: Give preference to healthy snacks and meals! Like fruits and veggies, yogurt, noodles, soup or sandwiches. Bonus points if they're arranged in a fun shape (animal, plant, star, etc)!

🧁: Keep your appetite in check! It's pretty common to lose your appetite when sick, therefore I'd say it's ideal to keep your meals smaller (and sometimes eat more often) than usual.

Taking care of yourself!

🧸: Stay hydrated! Water is always good, and if you're sick you likely need it more than usual, drinking from sippy cups, baby bottles, straw cups or any kind of fun themed cup is usually more fun and encouraging than boring adult cups.

🧶: Keep your temperature in check as well! Besides from checking if you have a fever ever so often, it's also good to keep yourself warm with blankets and heating if your body feels cold, or alternatively, turning on fans and using lighter sheets instead of blankets if you're too hot.

🧸: Beware the germs! If you got a contagious disease (like me), make sure to properly wash and disinfect anything you bring to your mouth such as pacis, teethers, bottles and cutlery before and after using them. Plus, it's important to wear a mask or ask others to wear a mask when near you as well.

🧶: Resting is key! Some of these days I'm too tired to do anything above, and I'd rather just nap the whole day, and that's okay! Sometimes being sick means not being able to do anything at all and it's important to have your extended napping time to get better.

#agere sfw #sfw agere #agere #agere blog #sfw agere blog #age regression #age regressor #sfw regression #sfw regressor #safe agere #noncom agere #agere advice #agere tips #agere ideas #agere activities #blankiefort ★´ˎ˗#kitty rambles ★´ˎ˗

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luveline · 2 years

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can i pls request a hurt/comfort eddie drabble with hugs and reassurance? maybe someone did something that’s been on their mind and upsetting them. thank you!

i love comforting eddie so much and after make up i cant help remebering how good josephs hugs look so we know eddie gives the best ones ever <3

Eddie climbs through your open bedroom window and your heart rockets, startled at his sudden intrusion.

"You really need to start closing it if you're gonna react this bad every time," he says, dropping his beat up jansport by the sill and kicking off his shoes. "Move over."

His appearance makes you feel much less miserable than you had, though it still lingers as you push your back to the wall. You and Eddie don't fit comfortably on your twin bed but that's never stopped him from trying, crushing in by your side, his arm pressed to yours.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says finally, lolling his head toward you.

"Hey, Eddie."

"What were you doing? Sleeping?" he asks.

You nod though it's not true, turning on your side to steal back a fraction of space. Eddie has this way of drawing the truth from you and you're not sure you wanna talk about it tonight.

"You look sad. You wanna hug?" he asks.

And that's your plan for space gone. It would be more suspicious to say you don't, because you always want a hug from Eddie. He gives the most amazing hugs, all strong armed and caring, his hands rubbing over the plane of your back slowly like he has nowhere else he'd rather be. His hugs are so good that you could believe it; that he loves them just as much as you do.

You nod and he sits up, arms open and reaching for you. You sit up the same, enough to wrap your arms around his ribs and back.

"You weren't really sleeping," he says.

"No."

"Mm," he hums, working his face into the side of yours, his lips skipping over the shell of your ear. "What's wrong, huh? Tell me."

"Nothing serious," you confess slowly.

"But it is something?" And there, his hand rubbing over your back, working away the tense ache. His rings are missing. Usually you can feel their weight, their ridges as they push over your spine.

"Not really, Eddie."

He groans quietly, almost good-humoured. Very much, I don't believe you. He's so nice and he smells beautiful, soft and warm, his arms strong as a cage but never that cruel, and his asking, all of it makes you want to cry.

"Not really. I'm feeling a small chance that it's something. I mean, you don't have to tell me. But I wanna know, so…"

You're limp to his solid, mild to his fierce. He pats your back a few good times and then holds you at arm's length.

"Do you have, like, a stomach ache?"

"No, I'm alright. Just…"

"Artist block?" he asks.

Not quite. You shake your head and then change your mind, deciding that artist's block sounds less pathetic than, 'someone saw my sketchbook and rolled their eyes and I've been sad for two days'. And not normal sad. Can't eat, don't want to move, sad.

"Yeah," you agree, smiling weakly. "Yeah."

"I noticed…" Eddie says, standing from the bed to retrieve his backpack before returning so fast he half sits on you. "That you haven't been doing your portraits lately." He unzips his bag and pulls out a smaller bag, made from a white paper with blue writing over the sides. "And I remembered how your nice inks all ran out. So, I went out to Indianapolis," his tone shifts, like he's listing something totally boring, "all the way down to that place behind Freeman's Ice Cream with the glass storefront, and the lady was totally pissed with me for getting all this Hawkins dirt," he grins deviously, "on their nice rug."

He passes you the bag. "Anyway. That's for you, sweetheart."

"Eddie…"

"Don't sound too mushy yet. I don't know if they're the right ones."

His shift from cocky to nervous is endearing.

You shake the bag's contents into your lap. An assortment of things fall out. A big inky pen for portraits, a refill. Two pencils with blue wood. An eraser. Four markers, four colours.

You slide your finger over the barrel of a marker. It's a dark red.

"I know you don't use much colour," he starts. "I thought it might help. Well, I asked one of the assistants. About, like, art block. And they said to try something new.

I liked the colours. I don't know if they're useful. But. I don't know. They suit you."

A dark red, blue, green. A buttery yellow orange.

"Eddie, you didn't have to."

"I kind of did. If you think about it."

You get what he means. The same way you get him a pack of cherry twizzlers everytime you see them, or always have a hair tie on your wrist.

You cover your face with your hands, wanting to hide how embarrassed you feel. How overcome with affection for him.

He yanks your wrists. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Don't cry. Hey." He scowls at your watery eyes. "Hey, don't. What's wrong? It's only a couple of pens."

"You don't think I'm awful?" you ask quietly. "At drawing?"

"No. Of course I don't. I love your art." His scowl softens. "Did someone say something? I can get violent."

"It's stupid," you say.

He's quiet. You take the red marker in your hand, turning it over and over and over. He's kept a hold of one of your wrist, his thumb pushing into your pulse then upward, into the meat of your palm.

"The piece you did for my last campaign? You know how fucking amazing that shit was? All in black and white but everyone could tell how emotional it was. You made it something so dimensional and gory and crazy without any colour at all." He sews your fingers together. You meet his eyes. Brown, edged in a burst of dark, long lashes. "If you can do that shit in graphite I'm genuinely scared of the stuff you could make with colour. And when I say scared I mean I'm salivating. Like a dog."

You scrunch up your nose and squeeze his fingers. He squeezes back.

"Not that I'm expecting a thank you, but I am."

"Yeah?" you ask, sniffing, grinning wide enough to hurt your cheeks.

"Yep. It involves your hands." Your eyes jump to his and his laugh is golden. "A hug, sweetheart. Why, what were you thinking?"

"Shut up, jerk." You crawl over the art supplies, paper crinkling under your knees as you hug him tenaciously.

He rubs your back and says, "That's better."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #eddie munson imagine

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moonlit-positivity · 2 months

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Some of my best moments of healing came when I started to understand some of these snippets of wisdom from others:

People can only perceive what they know.

Comprehension is also a part of communication. If they can't comprehend what you're saying then there is no point in wearing yourself out.

There is a big difference in "listening to respond" vs "listening to be right" and most people do not understand this.

Most people on social media aren't looking to have healthy communication. They're looking to argue. Find other places for conversation outside of the comments section.

People cannot tell you how you're feeling. That is information only you have access to. They are projecting themselves onto you.

People often hide behind projection when theyre hurt. Don't take things personally.

Emotionally immature people cannot understand the difference between communicating vs reacting.

What's the difference?

Communicating = listening with intent to understand

Reacting = allowing the perceived threat to dominate the mood

Triggers can also show us parts of ourselves that are unhealed and in need of attention. Though it is never okay to force yourself to "work through them" if you do not relate.

"There is always more work to do" = this is a lifelong process. Don't try to rush it so hard.

Breaks are allowed and actually necessary in order to catch up.

"Trust in yourself & trust in the process" = you know what's best for you. Nobody else should be telling you how to live your life.

"Do something else" = your sanity is in danger if you don't learn how to step away from the stress. Don't ignore your mind & body asking for a break.

"Life is not a game" = take yourself and your health seriously.

It's normal to seek chaos while recovering. Sometimes we are hard wired for chaos due to the nature of our traumas. Healing can leave you feeling "boring" and that's normal.

Recovery can also be reflected in our outward appearances. "As I grew inward, my outward appearance changed too." The changes we make inside can have a very deep impact on the way we take care of ourselves and the way we project that outwardly through our appearance. Sometimes negatively, sometimes positively. It can fluctuate and change just like we do.

You're not alone. I guarantee you, whatever it is you're going through- there's a community out there for it.

Sometimes you will never know how to move forward. These are the moments that require the most kindness and compassion you can find.

There is such a huge awkward transitionary phase between "I'm stuck repeating old habits" vs "oh okay, I've learned enough to move on now, but I don't want to give up my old identity and now I'm even more panicked than I've ever been in my entire life what the fuck is happening please help me" and this is so fucking normal.

When that happens, just be as kind and patient as you can be. The old parts are in need of patience. They are clinging for a reason. Maybe the closure long forgotten? Maybe the underlying issues finally able to be spoken out loud and addressed? Give them the safety of knowing they are safe, well loved, and that you're still gonna be you in all that you are when they're ready to put those burdens down.

Change doesn't look good at first. At first it feels like ripping your skin off. There's a subtle power in allowing it to feel uncomfortable and doing it anyway. You can tap that power just by waking up and staying committed.

"You're stronger than you think, give yourself some kudos, you're worth the effort to heal." These are all words that others have said to me. Take the positive words that ppl give you and use them to your advantage. They're actually not bullshitting you. They actually really do want you to succeed. Draw on them to get you there.

In the same vein, ask trusted ppl what they think your strong points are. I've had ppl tell me "you're resourceful. You're strong in how you advocate for yourself." It can help to hear these types of things. It's okay to ask!

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candaru · 1 month

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just gonna ramble about some Ultrakill/Portal crossover thoughts don't mind me

(considering The End of All Known Land canon for these thoughts, i.e. a world where Gabriel and V1 are the only ones to get out of Hell)

Chell hates robots with all her soul and would try to fucking annihilate V1 if she thought they posed even a sliver of a threat but V1 would be so fucking excited at the prospect of another human. like obviously if they were still in a situation where they needed blood, they'd kill her without a second thought, but now? they're just FASCINATED by the question of "how did a human SURVIVE" and they want to know everything

V1 inner monologue: oh boy a new sparring partner!!! wow they have a cool new kind of gun I've never seen before!! that would've been soooo helpful back in hell. I wonder if that's how they escaped? and they're quiet just like me! I wonder if their organic voicebox is broken? or do they just not have one? can humans not have one?

GLaDOS would fucking despise Gabriel because he's sooooo full of himself. She doesn't even need to hear him say anything robot-racist, She's already decided She hates him and wants him dead. an "angel?" yeah, right. sounds just like another human ripe for the picking. let's see how high-and-mighty you are when you're in my TESTING DOMAIN! DO MY PUZZLES, BOY!!!

Gabriel is like wow this robot is stuck up and has some serious issues but also I am uncomfortable with how much of myself I see reflected in her. hmmmm. yeah I'll try your puzzle, tell me more about your deep-seated hatred of organics and particularly this one that keeps ruining the facility you run and is the only one to ever beat you in a fight. mhm. yeah so quick question have you ever thought about trying to fuck—

(EXPLOSION AND GUNFIRE)

meanwhile if Chell ever met Gabriel on the surface it'd make for such a good tense encounter. bc she is hiding behind a tree in full fight-or-flight mode wondering "how did another human SURVIVE" and also second question "how did they get such sickass wings and where can I get a pair?"

and then Gabriel noticing her would ALSO send him into fight-or-flight mode but only for a moment because of the pure shock of, again, "HOW DID A HUMAN SURVIVE" before curiosity completely overtakes him and he tries to talk to her. trying to get her to talk and not attack or run is like trying to coax a wild injured animal out of a hiding spot. but he eventually manages to earn the barest, most minimal amount of trust by setting down all his weapons and leaving offerings of food in front of her.

...this gets harder when she sees Gabriel and V1 together and registers that they're allies. she's unsure if they're plotting against her or if V1 is manipulating Gabriel. eventually she leans towards the latter and thinks her fears are confirmed when she witnesses them drawing Gabriel's blood while he's sleeping.

she tries to communicate this to him by drawing crude pictures on the ground and is VERY FRUSTRATED when he's like "omg can you not talk? that's ok!! V1 also can't talk but we make it work, they're really incredibly kind and patient and—"

Chell, internally: I AM GOING TO KILL THAT FUCKING ROBOT AND SAVE YOU

I think it would be funny for V1 to try and go urban exploring in Aperture. GLaDOS is initially all excited because a new testing robot literally fell right into Her clutches but then V1 proceeds to be the most stubborn, impudent, tenacious piece of shit and they remind her WAY TOO MUCH OF CHELL so now She's trying to kill them but they have ACTUAL FUCKING GUNS and Aperture is being destroyed in the wake of their battle

meanwhile V1 has decided they don't like this robot but also She makes fun tests. so they do puzzles until they get bored and then they blast holes through the wall and try to kill Her

something something Ultrakill is just Portal for NBs (everyone knows Portal is for women) and I'm so fascinated by the similar dynamics of the toxic yuri/toxic yaoi robot-and-human pairs. and I think they would mostly hate each other and I love that for them.

(also something something GLaDOS is too far gone, too corrupted in Her immortality, and too deep in denial for any possible healthy ending with Chell—it's just not possible. so seeing Gabriel and V1 in a healthy and loving relationship would make Her SO FUCKING MAD for reasons She can't articulate)

#do I tag this? sure #portal 2 #ultrakill #v1 ultrakill #gabriel ultrakill #chell portal #glados portal #gabv1el #chelldos #(one-sided)#candaru rambles

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jemmacdraws · 4 months

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Hi! So you draw Eddie absolutely amazingly. I'm such a big fan of your work and I reblog it every time I see it because everyone should be seeing these masterpieces! Also adoreeee your Steve! The accuracy of your characters is astounding and I promise I'm not just saying all that so I can get to the next part of this ask. I truly adore your works and I've been thinking about asking you this for a long time but I'm too chicken to DM you. I totally understand if you don't want to, it's not your job. But I was wondering if you're ever bored, maybe would you please consider putting together a post that goes over the anatomy of Eddie's face and what you've learnt about it in drawing him repeatedly? I'm an artist also but my stuff is much less realistic. I've personally found Eddie's likeness very hard to capture, even in a caricature kind of way. The hair and clothes end up representing him more than any of his facial features and that's fine until I want to change his outfit or give him a man bun and suddenly it's not Eddie anymore but just, a brunette dude. I hope this makes sense to you. I have studied Joseph Quinn's face extensively and every time I think I know what shape his eyes are or where his cheekbones sit, I am humbled by a new picture of him or a different angle of the same picture even! But your skill at capturing him seems to know, no bounds and I know you said it took you a long time to get him right. So I thought I would shoot my shot and ask, artist to artist if there was any chance you'd be willing to help a gal out. ❤

I have a few tips. I don’t really feel qualified to be saying any of this - there are much better artists out there than me, probably trained and studied and experienced and I’m literally just a hobby artist drawing the same thing over and over. You could probably ask other people. Please ask other people. But FOR ME I’ve gathered the things that I was getting wrong the most and I’ll try to explain them.

I do want to preface that I can’t just provide a quick solution. I’ve been drawing him for 2 years now and I still think parts look really bad but since you asked nicely here are some quick thoughts:

Sooo yeah. I try and get these things right.

I’m not going to do tutorials on facial features or anything like that - I don’t think I could teach you better than anyone else could but these are the things I’ve found helpful. Let me know if you need anything else.

Sorry if any of this is obvious - I can’t really explain it in a way that isn’t ’scribble until you get it right’.

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artificial-transmutations · 10 months

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Transformation Letter: Dian

Hello. My name is Dian and I wouldn't mind transforming into anything or anyone. I'm an single 38 bisexual teacher, whom works out twice per week. My students would most likely describe me as the boring brown math teacher with the medium length black hair.

It wouldn't be right to say that today it is your favorite day of the year. To be honest, it's not even clear if you even have a favorite day of the year, at least regarding to your job.

Not anymore, at least. With your 38 years, you are teaching math for over ten years now. Ten years of reiterating the same and same again to your students. It is what people describe one of the biggest boons of teaching math: The subject never changes. While your colleagues have to integrate some new events or discoveries into their lessons every now and then, math never changes.

So, why is today one of the days you look most forward to? Because it's time for curve sketching again. This is both the subject you discovered your passion for math with and the point in the curriculum where you can see clearly which students are able to grasp the concepts of math - and which are too dumb.

Still, calling that one of your highlights sheds a sorry light on your academic career. Becoming a teacher *seemed* like a good idea, but the truth is that the endless repetitions are mind-numbingly dumb. You could have gotten a research job at university, but you decided to become a teacher. Ever since, every day is the same, every week, every year. Everything is on repeat. Teaching, driving home, working out twice a week, like a clockwork, summer holidays, winter holidays, one and the same.

You shake away the thought and sigh before entering your classroom and begin your lesson. You have the feeling you will lose half of your students today, intellectually, but you can hardly feel sorry. Math in school isn't hard. There is no reason for anyone not to get it.

So, you drone on and slowly approach one of the central milestones of the subject.

"And, as h approaches zero, we narrow in to the slope of the curve on that singular value for x. That is what we call a dancing quotient."

You look into the confused faces of your students. What did you just say? No, this is wrong. You try again.

"Sorry. The diffuse quo..." You trail off. Something is not quite right with you. You should know the word for that... thing. You look at the blackboard again. A big line with letters above and below, some arrows and a drawing of some curve. If you are honest, you don't understand fuck about all that. Weren't you supposed to teach math? Where are the numbers? What are letters doing in math.

"Is everything alright, Sir?" one of your students asks. Something else is wrong. When you look at your hand holding the chalk, it is way darker than it is supposed to look.

"Excuse me..." you mumble, surprised how deep your voice sounds. You exit the classroom and head towards the nearest bathroom, almost running.

The world seems wrong, too. It's like you’re looking at it from way too high. When you finally arrive and look at the mirror, you notice that your clothes are tight and constricting. Looking back from the mirror is another man, not the 38 year old math teacher you are used seeing every morning. The face looking back at you is younger, twenty-something. And it is Black, African American heritage, definitely. You can see your medium length black hair receding into your scalp, leaving you with the shortest buzz cut, as your nostrils become wider.

Not just your face changed! Your muscles grow and your shoulders expand, bringing your clothes that are riding high close to the breaking point. They don't break, however, but reform into a simple work uniform, covering your massive black body. At your groin, you can see the ample bulge of your dick and it makes you smile contently. You might not be the smartest, but you sure are both the strongest and best endowed man around here.

You give the mirror one last wipe and begin to clean the toilets with the janitorial equipment in your cart. Being a janitor in school is good work and doesn't require much of an education. That's why you even clean the toilets happily. However, it doesn't really pay well, either, so, recently you have gotten a second job as a bouncer in front of a gay club.

You don't mind the club visitors ogling your body or touching it from time to time, so the combination of both jobs makes for a diverse and eventful life! The strange letter you sent two weeks ago is already well forgotten.

Another one of those Transformation Letters. You, too can send one, over at my riot page!

#TransformationLetter #male transformation #muscle transformation #racial transformation

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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 6 months

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New Year Fireworks

Watching New Year Fireworks with Ghost.

bonus chapter

Ghost isn't the type of people who enjoy watching fireworks. They are beautiful, he must admit. When they appear, they always draw everyone's attention to them, but when you’re still stunned by their beauty, they just vanish without leaving any hint. They draw people close to them, but you still need to keep some distance from them, or it might hurt you.

"But how can you call it a new year without watching the fireworks? Have you ever seen them before?" She raised her head, couldn't believe what she just heard. "Can"t remember the last time I watched." "Hey! Come on!" Ghost saw her shake her head, lowered it as if contemplating, and suddenly snapped her head to face him, lips formed into a grin. " We get holidays for this new year, right? I'm going to watch the fireworks, and you can come to my home, we can celebrate together!" "Negative." "Oh please. Don't stay at your empty flat and look at some boring shows while nursing the Whisky. I know you're going to do that!" He saw her pout in disapproval. "Pretty please? Just this one time!" Ghost met his gaze with her, and found her staring at him. "Fine." He gave up. It's really hard to reject her, he doesn't want the expectancy in her eyes to be replaced by upset. "Thank you, L.T.!" Her eyes sparkling, full of excitement "Don't break the promise, okay?" She patted Ghost's shoulder and went into the training room first. Ghost watched the recruits and comrades greeting her with joy. She always liked this, energetic and kind, bringing laughter to every place she went, and catching everyone's eyes with her warm smile. He raised his hand, and slowly put it over the place she just patted. When her fingers met his shoulder, he felt like being touched by a flame. It was warm and brought him the feeling that he was unfamiliar, but he didn’t hate it. Moreover, it made him want to explore the emotion, he wanted to remember the feeling of her hands, but before he was able to engrave it in his heart, her hands were already pulled away.

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” She counted down with the people crowding at the street below. Ghost watched the fireworks gradually rise into the night sky, blooming into a stunning pattern. They stood at her house’s balcony. The weather was a bit cold at first, but after a few drinks, he started feeling warm. "Happy New Year, L.T.!" She cheered and startled him when she suddenly grabbed his hand. She must be a little drunk after drinking a few bottles of beer. "What are your New Year wishes? It's important to make wishes!" "That's what kids do." "Alright then, but at least the fireworks are beautiful, right?" Leaning over the rail, she turned her head back to look at the fireworks. The heart-warming smile and shining eyes, which he couldn’t remember when he started to be mesmerized by, this time accompanied by the fireworks reflecting in her eyes. "If you don't have any wish yet, then I'll say mine first." After indulging in the quiet moment for a while, She spoke. "I hope that next year, we can watch the fireworks together again. If Soap and others have time, we can invite them too, and we can buy pizzas and beers, counting down to the next year together!" "Didn't you say only this time?" Ghost raised his eyebrow. "Oh please, it sounds like a wonderful plan!" It is always difficult to reject her. "Then I wish my teammates wouldn't buy these bloody beers next year. They suck." "Hey! They aren't that bad!" She squeezed his hand playfully. "but does it mean you agree?" "If you behave well enough in the sparring, sergeant."

Time flies. In the blink of an eye, it's the end of the year again. Christmas followed by New Year, which have always been the holidays everyone enjoys the most, spreading happiness and hope to the streets. The weather is still very cold this year, but the streets are still crowded with people waiting for the fireworks. "5, 4, 3, 2, 1! Happy New Year!" Ghost held a glass of whisky in his hand. He watched the people on the street hug each other. The laughter never stops. He took a sip of the drink. The fireworks slowly and steadily rose into the air, shining dazzlingly bright at the highest point. Ghost couldn't help but close his eyes slightly at the light. "The wine is finally better this year. After all, she isn't the one buying them," he whispered. "and it's quieter this year because there isn't someone shouting she wants to see the fireworks again next year." His eyes sting, but he ignores it, reaching out to grab the bottle to pour more liquids into his glass. The fireworks appeared quickly, so as they left. When he was still amazed by it, they already become the past, disappeared, leaving no trace, but only regret.

So he already said, he didn't like fireworks.

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #cod imagine #female pronouns

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jellalism · 6 months

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Zhongli x gn!Reader fic: A thousand more years

You're visiting Zhongli, your friend and the person you're head over heels for. He's so perfect; could he ever look at you in the same way you look at him?

Word count: 1204 words

Genre: Fluff

Content warnings: None

Notes: Merry Christmas, @bitterrenegade! I'm your Secret Santa, and this is my gift to you: a little bit of mutual pining. I hope you enjoy! Thanks to @2023gisecretsanta for the organization!

Read below or on AO3.

“It is always satisfying to have a cup of tea when it is cold out, do you not think so?” You’re visiting Zhongli at his place, and as usual, he has prepared tea for the both of you. He always picks something appropriate. If you’re stressed, he’ll make some jasmine tea to help you relax. If you’ve just had a meal together, he makes ginger tea to aid digestion. Or, in this case, when the weather is cold, black tea hits the spot. Especially if Zhongli makes it: he’ll pay attention to the right brewing temperature and steeping times. He isn’t one to skimp on details.

You eagerly take a sip. It’s still too hot to drink, so you end up not tasting much. But at least the smell is good. “Mh-mm,” you agree. “Black tea is just right for moments like these. I got so darn cold on my way to your house. I really need something to warm me up.” Like your arms around me — the thought is there, but you could never speak it aloud.

It’s been a few months since you’ve fallen in love with him, but you fear he could never reciprocate. He is way too… perfect, in a sense. His calm and steady demeanor, his countless skills, his impeccable style: in all respects, he is in a league of his own. You’re just glad you can spend time with him as a friend; that is already a great honor. Although that, too, you could never speak aloud. He’d play it down, humbly; as if he isn’t a former Archon; as if he is just a normal human.

Zhongli smiles. “I’m pleased to hear you enjoy it. Have as much as you like. And if I can do anything else for you, let me know. You are my guest, after all.”

A soft laugh escapes you. “Come on, Zhongli. We’ve been friends for quite some time now. No need to be so formal.”

Zhongli chuckles, too. “You are right. Apologies. I’m just most used to this manner of speaking. Although that is, of course, no excuse. Please know that I never mean to be cold towards you; quite the opposite.” He scrapes his throat. “Well then. Friend. How have you been?”

“It’s been alright. I’ve just been going to work as usual. How about you?”

“Likewise. Although I don’t mind it. Contrary to what one might think, living as long as I have does not get boring. It does not rob each moment of its worth. Rather, life has taught me that there is an infinity of different experiences and that each one is worth treasuring. Even moments that seem to be the same, are different in interesting ways.”

You take a moment to find the right words to say — any silences that fall between are not awkward, but peaceful. “That’s quite a profound answer to such a mundane question, Zhongli.” You laugh a little, but it’s not mean-spirited; Zhongli smiles along with you. “I suppose you may be right. I’ll try my best to live a thousand years and maybe I’ll learn to treasure each moment the way you do.”

He laughs again. His laugh sounds deep, much like his voice. It’s carefree and calm, coming from deep inside. Something about it just draws you in and makes you fall in love with him all over. “I do not think it’s necessary to live as long as me, dear. Though I would not mind if you did. I would love to have tea with you for a thousand more years.”

‘Dear’? You blush at his choice of words. And he said he would like to have tea with me for a millennium more?

“Y/n?” Zhongli interrupts your shock. “Did I say something to upset you? You look quite troubled.”

“No, no, it’s not that at all!” You shake your head and wave your hands in a defensive gesture. “I’m just… Never mind,” you trail off. You can’t even look him in the eye.

From the corner of your eye, though, you see him looking at you with a smile. “Alright then.” A short silence falls. Then he sets his cup of tea on the table between you and gets up. You look at him, wondering what he’s up to. He makes his way around the table to you and lowers himself on one knee so that your faces are level. “Did I fluster you with my words?”

You feel yourself becoming even redder. You nod, unable to speak.

“I meant those words. And I apologize if I misread your reaction, but I have the impression that you feel the same way I feel about you. I’ve been yearning for you. So, if you’ll let me…” He trails off, seemingly intentionally. His hand cups your cheek gently. You could pull away if you wanted. His other hand takes your cup from you and places it on the table. His lips draw nearer to yours. And nearer. You close your eyes. His hand slides lower, to the back of your neck, as he presses his lips on yours. His lips are soft; his mouth has the lingering taste of a green tea he must have had before you arrived.

For several long moments, the touch remains. Then, Zhongli pulls back. You open your eyes; you find him looking at you with a kind gaze. “I have wanted to do this for months. Months that felt like centuries.”

“I don’t know what a century feels like, but I imagine it must be like the months I spent yearning for you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you know my feelings sooner. I did not want to be presumptuous. That’s why I used that term of endearment. I wanted to gauge your reaction.”

“That’s so sweet,” you murmur. “But… I almost can’t believe it. You’re so amazing. You’re perfect in every way. I can’t believe you’d fall in love with someone average like me.”

Zhongli’s face betrays pity and love. “Dear, surely you’ve heard that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? To your eyes, I’m perfect — even though I do not see myself the way you do. Likewise, you’re perfect to me, even if you don’t see it yourself.” He smiles at you.

You can’t argue against that. “Zhongli. Kiss me again.” Your voice is soft, unused to the candor.

He indulges you. Again and again. His tongue slips in your mouth. Sometimes you even detect a hunger in the movements of his mouth. A possessive voraciousness in the way he holds your head like he’s never going to let you go. He probably won’t.

Eventually, he lets up. “We shouldn’t let the tea go to waste. It is probably good to drink now.” He returns to his chair and picks up his cup. You take yours, too, and take a sip. Zhongli is right: the tea is at the perfect temperature now. It warms you deep inside. It’s a little bitter, giving it an intensity that fits the weather.

“Zhongli?” you whisper, your breath blowing away the steam rising from the cup.

“Yes?”

“I feel the same. I would like to have tea with you for a thousand more years.”

#genshin impact #zhongli x reader #zhongli #zhongli x gn reader #genshin x reader #gixrsecretsanta2023 #my writing

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hannahssimblr · 6 days

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In the evening we bike to the shop to buy firelighters. Jen says she likes the idea of a bonfire while we eat our barbeque food, even though the only time one has even been lit at the beach house is when my dad did it, all the while ranting on about how he learned everything he knew about fire in the boy scouts, and how if I had an iota of discipline or self control I might have benefitted from them before the local pack expelled me for being a shithead.

He was right. I reluctantly accept it as Jen and I approach the materials for making fire. Nobody has ever told me about the difference between briquettes and coal, what firelighters actually look like and exactly where peat plays into all of this. I know nothing about how to do manly things, and only ever figured out how to pitch a tent after subtly watching Shane do it the first time he and I went camping in the woods.

In contrast, my father has shot an actual gun. He and his brothers hunted deer, game and wild pigs in the hills around their family farmhouse in Redding California. As they loaded up their rifles and zipped up their jackets they would say things to me about how I’d be coming with them someday, as though was some sort of honour, something to strive for, but by the time I was big enough to kill pheasants I was already five thousand miles away drawing comics on printer paper. My soft hands were meant for art.

“You grab the firelighters,” I tell Jen, and take a swerve towards the magazine stand so that I can peruse something in my comfort zone. There’s a small selection of artsy magazines, and I flip one open.

“Um, do you think we should buy gasoline or something?” She stands chewing on her lip.

“Probably not, right? That seems dangerous.”

“Should we ask someone?”

“What? No.” Embarrassing.

I pretend to be engrossed in an article so that I don’t have to help, but while I'm there, an ad catches my eye, “Hey,” I call out to Jen, “would you want to go to an exhibition this weekend?”

“What kind?”

“Art.”

“Yeah, what kind?”

I turn the page to her so that she can see it, “contemporary,” and her eyes narrow at the images of weird sculptures made of bits of scrap metal, canvases with random splatters of paint dripping off the bottom, colour bleeding onto the floor.

“Hm. See, that’s the kind of weird art I don’t get.”

“It’s not about the art specifically, it’s about us doing something fun together.”

“And that’s in Dublin?”

“Yes.”

She smirks in a self satisfied way, “You’re bored,” she stops a passing customer to ask him if he knows what firelighters are, and if so, what does the box look like.

He shows her, and while she’s picking up the last two packets I come to stand with her, not helping, because now I'm more interested in selling this new idea to her. “It’ll be fun! How nice would it be to have a change of scenery? Get back to the city where stuff is actually happening, maybe go to that ice cream place you like.”

I’m certain this will sway her, but she pulls a face, “There’s loads of ice cream here, and the only reason you think nothing is happening on the beach is because you’re deliberately not doing anything.”

“Is it so bad that I want to have a day out with you?”

“No, I suppose not, but...” She wrinkles her nose “Fine. I don't want to be cynical. Do you think I’m cynical?”

“Yeah a bit.” I pay for the firelighters. As we exit the shop into the lingering light of the evening I admit to her, “I’m trying to cheer myself up, I just think I should make the most of the time I have left.”

She laughs, “It sounds like you’re terminally ill. You’re moving. So what? I’ll still talk to you all the time.”

“Yeah but I really want to savour these last few weeks. Will you come to the gallery?” I grip her arm and pretend to die, letting my knees buckle under me to really sell it, “...before it’s too late?”

“God, yes, fucking hell,” she groans, “I’ll come. I’ll do whatever you want for the rest of the summer, right?”

I throw an arm around her, “Thanks Jen.”

“Yeah, manipulator.”

“Takes one to know one,” I say cheerily, and we unlock our bikes and head towards home.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #this lot caused me so much heartache #thank god this scene is done wtf #it just kept crashing #looks so cute though #Jen and Jude are cute too I guess #tw: guns

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choicesficwriterscreations · 4 months

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February Creator of the Month: Noesapphic

Each month, CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers or artists, and this month’s creator of the month is the lovely @noesapphic! The writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page. Past COTM's can be found here.

Quick Links:

Tumblr Blog Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr?

Noe is fine, really!

More below...

1- When did you start playing Choices? What was the first book you played?

I started in 2018. I was bored in a friend's house and fighting good old insomnia when I saw the app and tried it for funsies. The first book was 'High School Story'.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I joined around late 2018 early 2019 and I had just left my community in Amino because the admin had gone full puritanical dictator and I was curious about Tumblr.

3- How did you pick your blog name?

It was simple: my nickname is Noe and I am a sapphic (aka lesbian). It's a no-brainer, really.

4- Pull up the first post in your archive, and tell us about it!

It was a reblogged quote. I related to what it said and I reblogged it

5- Do you write fanfiction, create fan art, or are you one of those really gifted people who do both?

I write fanfiction. God did not grant me art skills I'm afraid. My fingers are too fat and my pulse is terrible.

6- How long have you been creating for Choices and for any other fandoms?

I've been creating for fandoms as long as I can remember. I've had a really troubled life, so creating stuff helped me. As for Choices, I've been creating stuff since 2019

7- What is your favorite Choices book, and what is your favorite Choices book to create for?

Without a doubt, Desire and Decorum. The first book is simply a masterlist and its characters are so well-written, and everything about it just draws me to it. They definitely botched the other books, but it will always be in my heart. I also enjoy creating for other historical books and books that have similar themes

8- Share your first Choices fanfic or fan art that you posted with us. Do you still like it, or would you change it if you were creating it today?

It was a set of headcanons of Mr. Sinclaire and my MC, Celestine, finding out that they're going to be parents. While my spelling is terrible, I wouldn't change a thing. The engagement I received was such, it drove me to write for more. I haven't stopped creating since.

9- What your favorite piece of fiction or art that you created?

It's no secret for anyone who pays attention to my blog: my au, The Cursed Heiress, is probably my best creation. It's complex and a juggernaut of lore and history, and has all I've ever wanted in a fic and book in it. Although a close second is my Tudor AU, For Love and Duty. I simply love the 'arranged marriage' trope

10- Do you have a fic/art that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to do well but found it could use a little more love?

The second part of a one shot, A True Man, was probably one of the most difficult to write, and with a very traumatising and important theme. I was 100% hoping anon hate telling me to delete it, but found instead that the people ate it up! It has now 30 notes (which is A LOT for a small fandom like the D&D one) and now that I reread it, I'm proud of what I created and the message I wanted to send, which resonates with happenings of my past and experiences.

11 - If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Definitely angst. There's something so cathartic and relieving as letting out those emotions you can't express out loud without being locked up for being unhinged, and it has helped me understand myself many times. Also, smut is def something that I can't physically write 😅

12 - Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

There are small parts of me in every MC. A fragment of my past. Something of their lore that I went through. Something I aspire to be. Something I wanted to be once. I like to think that every writer leaves a part of their heart and soul with each character they create.

13 - What element of writing/art do you struggle with most?

Ooof, where to begin. I think the hardest part is to just write. I can go on for weeks looking at my turned-off laptop and goof off on Tumblr. But when I do write, the 'boring' parts or writing a character that I am not familiar with or that there isn't much info about can be challenging.

14 - Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Oof, where to begin, lol. My modern AUs, The Viscountess and Plan B. There's also Your Most Ardent Admirer and For Love and Duty. There's the fix-it fic series of the Blades LIs. Profiles of my MCs from several series. And also fic ideas that I want to create, but don't know where or how to start it. Woe is me indeed 😭

15 - If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to see your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you show them first?

Depends on the person. I would be very, very picky. I did show some parts of The Cursed Heiress to two trusted friends. But I wouldn't be against showing my mom a few chapters of The Viscountess… Unfortunately, she does not speak a word of English and I am terrible at translations, so it's wishful thinking, lol.

16 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing or art? Are there any artists that influence you?

For the published ones, Holly Black and Cassandra Clare have probably been my biggest help. Leigh Bardugo is also a newer inspo, and Spanish author Laura Gallego got me into fantasy, and anonymous author Bebi Fernández's raw and brutal prose have helped me find my voice. I have now bought George R.R Martin's Game of Thrones, looking for new sources to grasp.

As for fandom-wise, the very first writer to inspire me unfortunately hasn't been active since the pandemic, and despite our differences, @hellospunkiebrewster 's writing and essays got me into Regency and its history. My thriving years were by her side, and I'm grateful of having had a great fandom friend and hyper. The most recent ones are @missameliep my amazing fandom mom (te quiero mami 🥰) and some pieces by @princess-geek 's writing have inspired me to expand my horizon.

17- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

The Cursed Heiress, definitely. I think that my messages would resonate with many people. There's also The Viscountess: many people should see the messages Nicole, Anne and others have, and for what I have planned (and have been stalling out of laziness 🫣) would put things into perspective for many minorities and certain groups that are neglected by society and governments alike. 19- Do you write original fiction or create non-fandom art?

I am now at the outlining stages of making The Cursed Heiress an original novel. I tried many times to make my own novel, but always dropped it. But now that I've been for years with it, I feel like this might be the one project I dreamed of publishing one day. It's tough and scary, but I'm loving the ride so far.

Also, I have tried my hand with poetry, but it didn't have engagement and felt like talking to a wall, so I now feel discouraged. But if someone out there is interested, lmk 👀

20- What other hobbies do you have?

Apart from literature, I love make-up, skincare, cooking and making gifs and videoedits. I also love travelling and discovering new adventures and learning as many languages as I am capable. I also love listening to music. Basically anything that has to do with the humanities and art, I'll take it. Also, I am very invested in modern royal gossip. I know, not very republican of me… 🫣😅

21 - What’s your favorite emoji?

Apparently, the one I use the most is 🫡🫶🏻👀. Heh, sounds like me, lol

22: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

____

Two reminders to both creators and onlookers alike:

Creators: making content is NOT a race or a chore. It's something you make just because, and share it with the world. If you don't enjoy it, it's not worth the effort.

Onlookers: I know how much you may love X thing, but remember that behind that art, fic, etc, there's a person with real feelings, real life and that is taking off free time to make something. Enjoy it, reblog it (please, reblog the stuff you love) and if you don't like it, filter the tag, block and move on. It's really that simple.

Also, happy Valentine's Day AND Black History Month to the black creators of Choices! You're awesome and we love you ❤ sending you love 🥰

#choices fic writers creations #playchoices #choices stories you play #cfwc creator of the month #noesapphic #choices fanfic #playchoices fanfic #february creator of the month #desire and decorum

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phireflies · 2 years

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𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘆 𝗱𝗮𝘆

it's rainy and steve needs to go to work.

pairing; steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings; just fluff, steve is so cute

wc; 0.5k

a/n; decided to try a different little layout, so i apologize if it's a little weird. also it started raining and i was like "omg... i should write about this"

you decided sundays were evil. you could spend all weekend in steve's bed, in his arms, only to be torn away when it was monday. evil, really.

it was monday, a really awful day. you were never kicked out of steve's bed or house, as his parents were rarely ever home, but it was a lot worse being alone.

"popeye." steve whispers. you were in his bed having just woken up, and you were clinging to his side.

"what?"

"you've got a real tight grip on me."

you nod. "i know."

he laughs, beginning to resume drawing patterns on your back. "i hope you know that i've got to leave in like, t-minus 5 minutes." he held up his arm and looked at an invisible watch.

"no you don't, it's raining."

"why would rain stop me?"

you laugh and look up at him. "because you could hydroplane and die. i don't want that to happen."

he laughed heartily, prying your arms from his waist. "gotta go."

"no."

"do you want me to bring you a movie or not?" he asked, knowing it would change your mind. "see, i knew it. you're only using me for my job."

"am not! i just wanna be with you."

he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. "i wanna be with you too, but i have to work." he frowns and mimes a tear falling out of his eye. "sorry, pretty girl."

steve's use of the pet name in the mornings always made your face heat up. you would always say you hated it, but really, it made your heart swell.

"idiot."

"idiot lover." he replied, kissing you again, then digging through the laundry to find his uniform. you loved his stupid family video vest. it was silly but he pulled it off, he always would.

"it's raining real hard. thundering and stuff too. you might be struck by lightning." you said, observing the weather outside.

"do you really think of me dying all that often?"

"only when it's raining."

steve returns to you after messing with his hair. he peppers your face in kisses, then sighs. "i really do gotta go, i'll be back before you know it though!"

steve was lying. it would feel like an eternity before he got back, and he knew that you would be bored most of the day.

"i really gotta go, i'm two minutes late." he kisses your forehead.

"keith's gonna kill you." you pull him into another kiss. you thought that if you kissed him enough, he would forget about his job and stay with you. "okay, you can go. love you."

"i love you too, don't sulk all day." he teased.

you sighed dramatically and fell back onto his bed.

not even a minute had passed and you heard steve trudging back up the stairs. he opened his door and flopped down next to you. "it's gonna flood." he said. "no work."

"this is great news."

monday was still a bad day, but it was a lot more bearable with steve there. the sound of rain on the window and roof also helped.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader fluff #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fluff #stranger things

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mtkay13 · 1 year

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Qi Ye cast poster!!

This had started as a sketch, waaay back as I was still reading Qi Ye. The original is pretty different from this (I considered adding it in the post but I actually don't like it anymore haha), but the plan was already to make this big spread with most of the -more or less- important cast.

I will add here some thoughts about the whole piece, and I guess, Qi Ye itself. My main goal was probably to express my deep and intense feelings for Qi Ye, its grandness, and its awesome cast-- and along with that, flesh out my mental image of each of them, their personality, their style. Here is a table with the names, so we know who is whom, and so I can add some details about my perspective on them and their design.

Jing Beiyuan has always come quite naturally. I just go for the "prettiest face" I ever came with in terms of : my own taste, and the features I find the most delicate. I'd argue he's the easiest character to draw for me across both QY and TYK. On this image, he's probably around 16 or 17. I find his expressions to be very fun to work on in general.

Ping An is also quite an easy character to draw, just for how specific Priest is when describing him.

Wu Xi's design is mainly inspired by a discussion with my friend Hanya, who talked about how, in SHL, Wu Xi more resembled a northern shaman than a southern shaman. It made me want to explore the designs and characteristics a bit more, and come up with more colourful fabrics, patterns, and darker skin color. Same goes for Ashinlae and Nuahar, to have them matching Wu Xi's aesthetic.

Ming Hua was included in this just because of the mess the mention of his name caused in the story. The two jealousy tantrums are just so delightful!!

Su Qingluan was made to resemble Jing Beiyuan, of course. What I wanted to reflect in her face was her frustration, mainly.

Ji Xiang and Hua Yue... Well. Nothing particular about their design either, but they had to be there. Of course, of course they had to be there.

Finally, an opportunity to draw Zishu with his fan and henchmen! Not mad that he kinda looks like a villain, here.

Lu Yu!! I drew him with an Ashinlae mask, since he disguises himself as Ashinlae. I included him because he matters a lot in my headcanons about Siji Manor. (it isn't specified, in Qi Ye, whether or not he's actually part of the manor, but I like to consider that he is for various reason that I may detail if I ever make a Siji Manor post)

I'll skip Jiang Xue and Liang Jiuxiao because their designs are steady for me, now.

I hesitated a lot for Helian Pei's pose, but ended up going for this one (looking bored, out of his depth, lost in the distance with his birds around him). I considered showing him with a bird in his hands, but I guess that's not the main vibe I get from him. And then, well, golden, flashy clothing, suited for an emperor.

Helian Zhao had to be in a showy armor, and I hated making it because it's so much work, haha. I took inspiration from an armor in NiF. I'm quite happy with how he came out in terms of both vibe and showiness.

I tried going full out on Helian Qi. Making him the villain that Qi Ye deserved. Dark, showy, elegant and horrible.

Helian Yi is also pretty solid for me, by now.

About the illustration itself, the main challenge was definitely to make a nice colour palette while still differenciating all the characters. I wanted to go with something intense, eerie, that could also complement the main tones I would go for (= red, purple, blue and green). I'm quite happy with how the golden tones, along with the green and reddish lights, make the whole thing come together. I struggled a little bit with the composition at first, but once I got the flow and the main figures down, it just happened quite easily. Anyway, I'm quite proud of this, and hope it conveys the love and admiration I have for Qi Ye well.

#qi ye #lord seventh #cast #meta #talk about art #七爷

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vgilantee · 1 year

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dear devoted delicate {xavier thorpe}

xavier thorpe x reader

requested: by my beloved julie @websterss <3

words: 2.2k

a/n: the reader is an outcast of an unknown type, but not a werewolf. i love werewolves, but because of some of the setup, it's gotta be a non-werewolf reader. also i went a little off-prompt but it's still the same in essence, and all the important bits are included, just shuffled up a little. oh and yes the title is a line from the song older, but i used it mostly because dear is a sweet petname, and butterflies have delicate wings. i think i'm clever. oh and if you're new here, i hate writing dialogue and it shows in this also if you want to see some really cool drawings of poisonous plants, send me an ask (please) because one of my favourite things ever are vintage botanical drawings (this will make sense in a minute dw)

warnings: n/a. just some sweetness. there is swearing though so idk if that counts as a warning

pronouns: she/her (maybe she/they? i can't remember if i threw in a 'they' lmao)

Once a month - sometimes twice if you were incredibly unlucky - you were kicked out of your room for two days while your roommate had a handful of her younger cousins over.

Before Nevermore, you loved the full moon. Now you had a love-hate relationship. You still loved the moon itself, but you never enjoyed showing up at your friend’s dorm, backpack over your shoulder and sleeping bag tucked under your arm, sheepishly asking if you could once again sleep on their floor. You could, in theory, go back to your room to sleep as your roommate and cousins wouldn’t be there, instead transformed into wolves and galavanting around the woods. But in your second month at Nevermore, you did that, and woke up to a room full of the less-than-dressed human werewolves, some of whom had chosen your bed to curl up on, with you still in it. Never again.

Full moons on the weekend were the worst. With no classes to occupy your time, you often found yourself moving from place to place around campus to find somewhere you could hide out before getting bored and moving on.

Xavier watched as you jogged past the archery field, headphones in and running shoes muddied. It wasn’t unusual to see you go past during club practice, though you tended to avoid it after a downpour. He’d asked you about it once, after seeing you in the library one rainy Saturday afternoon.

“My room already smells like wet dog at the best of times, I’m not going to add to that.” Your voice was light with humour; you adored Sofi and she always made sure to not bring in any smells with her. But the comment stuck with Xavier and the next time you were sat next to each other in Torture through History, he sketched out a wolf before moving his hand to bring it out of the page. You giggled quietly as the ashen wolf shook itself, small flecks mimicking water coming off, then curled up next to your hand. You had smiled down at it fondly as it fell asleep before dissolving into charcoal dust, leaving a light smudge on your hand. Xavier watched you and pretended not to notice the warmth that came to his face as you looked up at him, the fond look still in your eyes.

“Xavier, are you going to take your shot? Or you just going to keep staring at ‘em?” He shot up a middle finger over his shoulder before turning to follow its movement to see his club mates smirking over at him.

After ducking into Ash’s room to change into more comfortable clothes, you make your way down to the library. Ash was generally the most reliable for having space on their floor for you to crash, the thin roll-out mattress a permanent feature in the beanbag corner of the dorm.

On your way, you detour to your room to kick your muddy runners under your bed, though not before making an ‘I’m watching you’ motion toward a curled-up Sofi with a smile.

It wasn’t uncommon for couples to be hidden away in the library, especially not on an overcast weekend. But the Grimmstone library was the only library on campus that held an original copy of an 1800s toxic botany encyclopaedia.

After a few false turns with quick apologies to the interrupted couples, you finally found the right - and luckily empty - aisle. With your forefinger running gently along the worn spines, you made your way down the rows of books, glancing at the names of authors until you found the one you were looking for.

After carefully sliding the hardcover book off the shelf - nearly dropping it as the loose plastic dust cover slipped - you sat down at one of the desks lining the centre of the room and began flicking through. You flicked the book to the back, finger running down the yellowed page until you reached the name you were looking for: aconitum.

----

“Big scary werewolf and you’re afraid of a little butterfly?” You laughed as you wandered into Plant Toxicology with Sofi.

“It flew right into my face!” She waved her free hand in front of her, mimicking the butterfly’s movements.

“And you squealed!” As you laughed, Sofi gently hip-checked you, nudging you toward your usual desk, before laughing with a shake of her head and walking toward her own. You nodded hello to Yoko as you sat beside her.

“Alight, class. Group paper time.” The sounds of groans and heads hitting tables bounced around the room. “I know, I know. Now, rows one and three, turn around and give a little wave to your partner.”

----

You were hours early to meet your study buddy, but it was a non-issue. The time alone allowed you to make meticulous notes on the plant before worrying about formatting them into a presentable paper.

The notes you made were messy, quick dot points from the encyclopaedia that could make into a decent assessment. The paper was only short anyway, the first report of the semester that was more of a benchmark than a large percentage of your grade.

Headphones in, it wasn’t long until you found yourself with your feet up on the seat and book resting open on your thighs, reaching around your bent knees to occasionally take notes.

You were in the middle of triple-checking the spelling of a latin nomenclature when a flit of grey out the corner of your eye caught your attention. But as you turned your head to see what it was, all you could see was another couple darting down an aisle, whispering to each other. You shook your head with an amused exhale before turning back to your note-taking.

Just as you leaned forward to take a note, you saw the grey again. But this time, instead of a moment at the side of your vision, the grey moved in front of you just long enough to make out the shape of a butterfly before it landed on the tip of your nose.

Cross-eyed to stare at the charcoal insect, you pulled out the headphones slowly, trying not to disturb it. You knew it wasn’t real, recognising the trademark sketch lines of Xavier’s art.

Another pair of butterflies began to flutter in front of you, bouncing off of each other with tiny plumes of dust. You let out a small giggle and the bug on your nose darted away, flying right into the other two where all three of them exploded into a shower of dark powder onto the desk. Once the last of the dust landed, you turned quickly to look over your shoulders, dropping your feet to the floor, trying to find the artist.

You met Xavier’s eye as he folded his sketchbook closed in his right hand. His head was tilted with a smile as he made his way toward you, backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Howdy, howdy partner.” You wriggled your fingers to wave as he pulled out the chair beside you, dropping down and letting his bag fall to the floor. As he did, you noticed that Xavier’s pulled-back hair was a messy damp, the kind that comes with being caught in the rain.

“Started the fun without me.” He gestured lazily to your notebook and the two thick library books in front of you (at some point during your research you wandered back to the shelf and found a second book with information on the deadly plant).

“Wanted to make you jealous, of course.” You shot him a wink with a small giggle, turning back to your book just in time to miss the tips of Xavier’s ears go pink. “The butterflies were definitely a welcome distraction though,” you thanked, turning in your chair to face him fully, “I felt like I was going cross-eyed staring at these pages.”

“I’m happy to distract.” Xavier sent you a dopey smile and raised one hand to flatten down flyaways, and you bit the inside of your lip while ignoring the warmth that grew on your face. In your attempt to break eye-contact and hopefully get rid of the blush, your gaze flicked down to his mouth and caught him licking his lips.

Almost in sync, you and Xavier looked away from each other and as you looked over at the textbook, you heard him clear his throat.

“Okay, so,” Xavier broke the silence after a moment, “what have you got so far?”

You quickly delved into giving him a rundown of the notes you had made so far, explaining ideas you had come up with for it. However, you made a point of not looking up at him. It was a little awkward at times, where you would catch yourself beginning to look at him but quickly found a drawing of the purple flower far too important to not look over at.

Neither of you noticed that the sun had set until the howls of classmates made their way from this distance, the sound causing both of you to turn and look out the window.

“Shit, I didn’t realise how late it had gotten.” During the week, there was an 8pm curfew, but over the weekend library hours were extended and they were a little more lenient with the time you had to be back at your dorm giving you until midnight to be back. There was just one downside to being in the library late.

“Oh my god we missed dinner.” Xavier sounded devastated at the realisation, and you looked over to see him with the back of his hand pressed dramatically to his forehead.

“You hungry?” It wasn’t long past dinnertime, but because of the routine that came with living at Nevermore, you knew the answer would be yes. “I may or may not have some snacks hidden in my dorm.” He perked up, and though he would never tell, he was more than a little excited to be spending more time alone with you.

---

Xavier sat awkwardly on your bed as you kicked off your shoes and began to pull a box out from under your bed. Pushing some heavy clothing out of the way, you pulled out a bag of chips and a couple of packets of sweets.

“It’s not really a dinner, but it’s food.” You showed him the food you had stashed, offering it weakly. Xavier scooched himself onto the floor, patting the space beside him and you sat yourself down cross-legged.

As Xavier pulled open the chip bag, you sent Ash a message saying you might be over late, but would try to be as quiet as possible. They sent back a thumbs up, and you shoved away your phone just in time for the chips to be held out in front of you.

Between the sweets and bag of chips, you and Xavier managed to talk about anything that came to mind as time quickly moved by. During your time, both of you got more relaxed, losing any vague semblance of good posture and leaned against the side of your bed. And maybe closer to each other, but only maybe.

Xavier pulled his sketchbook out of his backpack and leaned forward, listening to you talk as he drew. He hid his sketchbook from you as you tried leaning over him, giggling into his ear as you did.

You let your body flop onto the ground beside him, staring up leaning on your hand as he readjusted how he was sitting to keep hiding what he was drawing from you. Then he tucked his pencil behind his ear and held his hand above the page.

Lifting up with a rain of dust, a dozen small butterflies began to flit around your room. They bounced off each other, spinning in circles as they danced.

Much like the interruption of howls earlier in the evening, you are brought back into reality by the buzzing of your phone against the hardwood floor.

“I don’t mean to stop you from whatever you’re doing,” Ash skipped the greeting as you answer the call, “but if you’re sleeping here tonight you might want to think about showing up soon.”

“Hello to you too.” Sitting up properly, you watched Xavier as he turned on his phone screen and showed you the time, and you widened your eyes. “Oh fuck. Okay, thanks, Ash. Be there soon.” Xavier stood first, offering you a hand to pull you up which you happily took pretending not to notice the way he squeezed your hand shortly when you stood.

“I can walk you over if you want.” You were already shaking your head at the offer, knowing that you would be cutting it thin getting to Ash’s dorm and Xavier’s dorm house was in the opposite direction.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t want to be the reason you get in trouble.” He held the door open for you, leaning on the outer frame. As he pulled it shut his arm brushed your side.

There was a beat of silence as neither of you wanted to move. Although you had spent the night hanging out, the softness in that moment was different and not something you wanted to break.

Steeling yourself for a moment, you darted forward and kissed Xavier on the cheek, turning and beginning to walk away before you could see how he reacted.

Xavier watched as you moved quickly away, his cheeks and ears pink, He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times trying to figure out how to react. Once you disappeared around the corner, he let out a breath and sheepishly smiled to himself.

comments and reblogs are appreciated! as are asks about the fic!

rambles, feel free to ignore: this fic isn't… okay so i hold myself to very high standards which is a problem with my brain and things, and i need to stop doing that because i end up giving up on things that aren't perfect instead of appreciating that i have made something and it's mine and from my brain. again, a problem i need to sort out. but all this being said!! by my self-imposed standards this isn't amazing, and really i'm posting it as a "here! it's done! take it before i take it back and destroy it!" and that's only happening because it was a request from a mutual.

tl;dr: these rambles are more to say that i like this fic, and i'm happy enough with it, but my standards are so high that i don't think it's good enough. which is a common thing with creatives and just know that what you make is good because it's yours and you made it, and that's all that matters!

#char rambles #char writes #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe x y/n #reader insert fic #xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier thorpe blurb #char's mutuals #˚:✧｡• julie #xavier thorpe reader insert

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