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a-mended-pact · 3 years

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Period Pains & Cuddles

Hey! So this is a one shot for @fortheloveofcriminalminds and I 's series Sticks and Stones! That being said this is one that can stand alone if you chose to read it. I for some reason keep dreaming of more things for our story that just aren't needed for the main story line. Enjoy!

⚠️ warning: mentions of Menstruation, Past abuse and malnutrition. ⚠️ (if there are more inform me please)

✒Word Count: 2,398

🛑 If you do not want any spoilers at all for Sticks & Stones do not read.

I Have been living next door to Spencer for a little over a month now. My apartment had slowly become more and more homey as the days went on. He was constantly dropping things off at my door or I'd buy little things from the shop I'm working at and bring them home.

My apartment finally looked like I had a personality and I wasn't this bland shell of a marionette doll being pushed and pulled the way someone wanted me to be. It was refreshing but more nerve-wracking than a breath of fresh air for me.

It was nearing day break and I knew I needed to get up and start cleaning my place. I had a routine that I did everyday. I'd wake up early and clean the whole place. Spotless to the point you could eat off the floor if you wanted to. I'd even scrub all the nooks and crannies with a toothbrush. This was an everyday thing. Changing my schedule wasn't an option. Once the apartment was clean I had to get ready myself and by the time 9 came around I was ready to start my day fully.

Having been given the time to adjust to eating again whenever I wanted was interesting. I had no idea what I liked anymore but because of the month of freedom I had started to gain a little weight. God I hoped Spencer didn't notice. I hope he didn't get upset with me the way I knew Brett would.

Spencer had told me once that I was looking healthier and that he was happy for me. He also spewed facts about how now because I am getting the nutrients that my body needs I could start experiencing things my body wasn't used to anymore.

I didn't really understand what he meant then but I think I'm starting to.

I forced myself to get up only to notice a stain on my sheets caused by me. Seriously? I forgot that periods were a thing. I pulled my hand up counting on my fingers. Each year is remembered by an unpleasant memory. I stopped having it right after a very brutal night with Brett. I bled for nearly a month after that night. Glancing at my hands I only held up 6 fingers.

I hadn't had my period in 6 years. If anything joyous came from being with Brett it was the fact I didn't have to deal with this.

I groaned in annoyance and in panic. I needed to clean this up. I had to because this couldn't be left on my sheets for too long or else it would stain permanently. Even when I had my periods with Brett he was never supposed to see any signs of a period, none. I used to use pads and tampons but I quickly had to learn how to use a cup.

It caused less mess. No waste to be seen in the bin and nothing put under the cabinets that Brett could see.

I quickly threw my sheets and comforter into the hamper while I rushed to throw away my now wasted pajama bottoms, sealing off the bag I put them in and putting it next to the door. Yes I was in fact running around my home in the nude. Just for a couple of moments though.

I stumbled into the shower knocking over my body wash and shampoo. The moment the warm water hit my face I felt my body relax. I was in a lot of pain. When I did have my periods regularly they were always heavy and painful. My muscles in my back would always be incredibly tight to the point I couldn't even bend over.

Now that the adrenaline is gone from the sheer shock of the situation. I'm sure this one would be exactly the same. All I wanted to do is curl up and cry. I couldn't though it was embedded in me that I had to clean the house.

When I got out of the shower and went to get dressed, that's when I realized the biggest problem I was going to have today. With a loud scream of frustration I slammed my sink cabinet. I didn't have any female hygiene products for this. I mean it had been 6 years.

I wracked my brain about what I could possibly do. The thought of ordering things to my door sounded lovely. However, anyone knowing that I am going through this is just embarrassing to me. I made a very quick and brash decision of crumbling up toilet paper to make a temporary pad until I got to the store.

I dressed in black. I didn't want to risk another disaster.

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By the time I made it home all I wanted to do was go back to bed. I got myself and my new things situated and stored away. I immediately started to clean afterwards doing everything the way I always did. Like I was supposed to do. I glanced at the clock on the stove only to realize it was noon now.

A huff escaped me. I was finally done. Now I could start winding down and relaxing. I was getting extremely dizzy while cleaning anyway. I made my way to the couch to curl up. I never wanted to leave this spot.

It was just curved enough to relax my lower back and to cradle me in all the right places. I started to drift off, giving myself some time to recuperate from my chaotic morning.

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I awoke to a gentle hand on my face caressing me. I flinched at their close proximity which caused me to tense up a small groan left my lips as I curled up more and rolled away from them.

'Dahlia, sweetheart, you didn't hear me banging on your door or calling you? It's 7pm. We had a date. Did you forget?' His voice was laced with concern and I couldn't help but feel awful because I did forget.

'I hope you don't mind. I let myself in. You know you shouldn't leave your door unlocked,Statistically in the United States alone 22,796 women are likely to be burglarized when they live alone.'

Spencer helped me roll over when he saw me struggling to do so. ‘I’m, I’m sorry I’ll go get dressed for our date now.’ I rushed to go get up when a dizzy spell hit me. He stood up quickly and caught me by my waist. ‘Hey, what’s wrong, you seem disoriented?’ I tried to tell him that I was fine but I didn’t feel fine. Perhaps I was just being over dramatic. I logically knew women go through this sort of thing all the time but all I wanted to do was cry.

I was overflowing with so much emotion. I was aggravated with the fact that this was happening to me again to start with. I was upset with myself for being like this. I was even more distraught by the fact I had forgotten my date with Spencer. How could I just forget? I was looking forward to it since last week when he got called away for work while we were planning the whole thing.

We had agreed to go out to see one of his forgein movies. He was gonna translate it the whole way through whispering it in my ear. At first I had declined saying it was going to ruin the movie for him. He assured me that it was fine he had already seen it once with his mother when he was younger. He just believed it was a movie I was going to enjoy.

We had also discussed having dinner after. We never ended up picking a restaurant before he got called away. ‘It’s nothing Spencer, I'm fine, really. I just forgot our date is all. I’m really sorry’ I moved myself out of his hold and made my way to my bedroom to get dressed.

‘You know we don’t have to even go out tonight. I am more than happy to just stay in and spend time with you!’ I could hear him shout from my living room. I was getting frustrated because all my clothes seemed unbelievably tight on me right now. I could feel the tears brimming at the corners of my eyes. This was ridiculous. Why was I being so emotional? How do I tell Spencer that I didn’t want to do anything at all? I didn’t even want to be out of bed or better yet off the couch. As long as I was laying down and I wasn’t moving it didn’t feel like my hips were being compressed and my back finally wasn’t in pain.

I barely even wanted to be pleasant towards him and all he has ever been to me was a gentleman. I walked out in the same clothes I went in with this time wrapped in a throw blanket I bought from the shops. He looked at me with concern and smiled softly as he pulled me with him to the couch. He pulled me close and held me, playing with my hair and moving it off my face. I laughed slightly at how gentle he was being with me.

‘Do you remember when you told me now that I was getting healthier that my body would start doing things it’s supposed to.’ I whispered and leaned my head against the back of the couch. His warmth on my back felt magical. His chest vibrated as he chuckled. ‘Yes, I remember. Pretty girl, is that what's wrong.’ He pulled me closer to him, his hand lightly touching my stomach. I never noticed how tight my tummy muscles were until the natural warmth he carried slipped to me through the palm of his hand.

I looked down embarrassed. This was always such a sensitive topic when Brett was around. He didn’t want to hear about it nor did he care to. ‘For the first time in 6 years. I - um started my period.’ I said it as quietly as I could in hopes he wouldn’t be put off by this new information. I went to pull away only for him to pull me closer to him. Him basically wrapping himself around me and holding me close as he kissed my temple.

‘That’s really good news sweetheart. I know it may not seem like a good thing right now but it is. It means that your hormones and everything are finally going back to normal after years of being not right.’ He grabbed both of my hands in his when I tried to curl in on myself again. I could feel his breath on my neck every time he exhaled. It made me want to slip deeper into him.

‘I think we should order in and watch one of your favorite movies. How's that for tonight?’ I bit my lip still questioning whether or not I wanted him to go home or not. Him seeing me like this was already upsetting enough. It wasn’t like I wasn’t dressed and didn’t have makeup on. Maybe it was just the fact that I didn't feel great that made me think I also didn’t look it.

I nodded but otherwise didn’t speak. Spencer has known me long enough to know that I'm a little in my head at times like these. So he knows that as long as I agree he can do whatever he likes unless I say otherwise.

He ordered food and began looking around on my shelves lining the wall to realize I didn’t own any movies. I watched him and couldn’t help but smile. It was hard to believe he could be a dominant when he was struggling so hard to take charge of the situation right now. He held up his finger and made an ah ha noise when he ran out of my apartment to what i assume was into his. He came back clutching a bundle of movies in his large hands along with some junk food from his place.

‘I know enough from Stell that you can’t go wrong with junk food when a lady is on her period.’ His voice was laced with confidence yet somehow his stance said shy as if he were overstepping. I couldn’t help but smile at him. He was so sweet I managed to move myself into a more proper position when there was a knock at my door. ‘Ah that must be the food.’ He placed all the things he brought onto the table and quickly grabbed the take out.

At this point my mouth was watering. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I smelled the food.

‘Thank you. For just being you Spencer. I didn’t realize I could be cared for the way you’ve cared for me since I’ve gotten the pleasure of knowing you.’ I smiled widely as he sat down beside me. The movie started and the food was passed out between us both. He smiled a smile that stole my heart out of my chest and yet made it beat so rapidly I thought for certain he could hear it. ‘There’s no need to thank me Dahlia. I don’t mind taking care of you. You aren’t a hard person to take care of. I just enjoy spending time with you. Regardless of what we are doing.’ A blush formed on his features. If it wasn’t for the glow of the projector I would have missed it. ‘Thank you, I’m not sure I could be anyone else even if I tried.’ his voice was small and filled with adoration at what I had said.

Some time after we were done eating I gravitated towards him seeking his warmth. He had moved himself, his leg now resting on my couch as he leaned against the arm rest. I was between his legs, my body tangled in his as my head rested on his chest. If every time I got my period meant that I had the pleasure of getting to use Doctor Spencer Reid as a giant teddy bear. I’d be more than happy to have them

His hand cradled my face as the tips of his fingers played in my hair. His other arm draped over me holding me protectively as I drifted off into my sea of unconsciousness.

‘My precious Dahlia what have you done to me?’

#criminal minds fanfiction #collab fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #sticks and stones #sas #SAS #s&s #S&S #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer reid #spencer sister wives 🖤#Yuki's babbles

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zoeticthoughts · 3 years

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I'd like to talk really quickly about hygiene and how it is actually good.

When I was younger (a bit more than a decade ago) I rushed through taking care of myself; I used to prize the fact that I could get from "awake" to "at work and working" in half an hour. My morning routine was simple: bar soap, head and shoulders 2-in-1, brush my teeth, put on deodorant, get dressed, done. I used to skip the shower a few times a week. My evening routine was: switch to pajamas, go to sleep.

I constantly got zits and canker sores, and my hair was a mess, and I suffered random bouts of depression. I got headaches almost daily but it has been happening for YEARS so I mostly just dealt with it. I wore clothes that didn't fit well and ate... well, okay, but not GREAT.

Then I got a crush on a girl who was into gothic lolita style and in a misguided attempt to woo her I started dressing nicely. And what I noticed when I wore clothes that fit better was that I just felt better about myself, that I was presenting a respectable version of myself to the world.

That confidence eventually got me to ask out the woman who would become my wife, even though I still had a bunch of random health and appearance problems. Luckily my wife is awesome and she encouraged me to: get a barber for real haircuts instead of 1/4" buzzcuts; find a medication for my canker sores; go to the doctor for my headaches; and in general treat my body seriously.

So now, my evening routine is:

Take amitriptyline for headache prevention;

Take a timed release melatonin for sleep;

Use nasal spray to keep my nasal airways open so I can breathe better in my sleep;

Floss and bush my teeth;

Put on my night guard so I don't grind my teeth at night.

And my morning routine is:

Shower; shampoo every 2-3 days, conditioner every day. Separate soap and facial wash;

Take an L-Lysine to prevent canker sores;

Deodorant;

Toner spray, facial cream, beard oil, hand cream;

Floss and brush my teeth.

It takes longer. It costs more.

But now I don't really get zits.

And I don't get canker sores.

And now I only get headaches maybe once every other week.

And now I look better than I ever have, and feel better than I ever have, even though I'm a decade older than when I was rushing through every day focused on everything but myself.

All I'm saying is: look at your daily routine, and pay attention to the things that ail you, and see if there's a way you can use your routine to maybe treat your body nicer.

(disclaimer: obviously this does not and cannot apply to everyone. I am not saying you HAVE to buy a bunch of lotions and sprays; I'm not saying that you're not doing all you can already, or that what you're doing isn't enough. I'm only stating that I was able to improve how I felt about myself by actually taking care of myself, that doing so made me more comfortable around people, that I know I wasn't the only person in my age group who wasn't caring about myself, and nobody ever talked about how they got ready for their days so I figured I would.)

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paipayaseeds · 3 years

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A velvet shade blanketed her freckled face, head looking down with a flustered smile before she'd wave shyly at him. She'd been happy at least that he had been in great spirits.. For the time at least. She hadn't seemed to notice Rantaro's glare at Kaito once again— Unfortunately she was aware of Kokichi's comment, which just worsened her blush.

'We-We aren't even flirting...'

Ryoma, ever the realist would speak up about the issue at hand.

"We shouldn't set expectations just yet. For all we know, Monokuma could be-"

"Why don't you shut it ya fucking ball goblin?!"

Miu interrupted the gruff man, said man squinting at her with confusion and annoyance at her choice of insult.

".. Ball goblin?-"

"You don't fucking know if anyone will come or not! How about ya stop being such a gloomy short- dicked bottom feeder and have some faith,huh?" Her finger pointed at Ryoma in distaste. Truthfully, Miu was afraid of the what if's, and even if the most obvious answer was evident.. She like everyone else wanted to go home. Being in this school any longer freaked her the hell out.

Kaede would speak, taking a deep breath before responding to her friends qualms.

"No, Ryoma's right. While I'd very much like to believe this is over.. I just.. I have a feeling.. It's been eating at me all night."She confesses, arm wrapping around her waist as a chill ran down her spyine, all the way to the pit of her stomach.

She hated this.

She hated crushing everyone's dreams like this but, it's better than seeing them in shambles.

"I'm just saying.. To be aware."

Anya stared at the fellow musician and the tennis pro in awe, a bit relieved that she hadn't been the only one thinking this way. Sighing, she'd begin to write. She'd have to take a few breaks due to anxiety the girl would force down.

After she finished, The girl would tap, Keebo seeming to lighten up before he'd do his routine.

"Kaede and Ryoma are right.. We don't know if this is over. Monokuma is a robot, but unlike Keeby, he can be replaced."

The robot been confused on his nickname, but, it tugged a smile on his face nonetheless before continuing.

"But, it doesn't mean it's bad to hope.. If.. If that makes sense."

The green-haired male stayed in frustrated silence as he watched the others, argue and agrees. He stilled at his spot, the gears of his mind squeaking and creaking in his brain as he tried to make more sense of everything, of his bad feeling, of Monokuma d—(ick??)

Rantaro's once-focused eyes, glanced down at the smaller girl beside him, slightly surprised wide eyes, softening as he grinned gratefully, “You couldn’t have worded it any better.” He let out a brotherly laugh before ruffling her hair once again, knowing fully well she hated it.

Kokichi stayed silent in consideration before speaking up, face unreadable, "But how do we know he can be replaced? We haven't seen any of his clones, so the killing game probably is ov—"

"Aaaaand, that's my cue!"

Cutting Kokichi off and unfortunately proving Anya's point, Monokuma bounced off the dining hall walls, making his dramatic appearance and causing everyone to step back in shock, fear and confusion.

Rantaro would be lying if he said a little part of him didn't expect this— Kaito would though.

Jumping back and almost falling on his ass, the fearful astronaut stifled a screech at the bear's sudden appearance. "Z- zombie!" Kokichi, taken aback by the familiar shrill voice that had cut him off, held a genuinely stunned expression. "... Huh?"

Shuichi, as well as the others, bore a momentarily startled expression before it had shifted back into an expression of nervosity and acknowledgement. Glancing over to Kaede in search of comfort, he found himself fiddling with the top of his hat yet again, before turning his gaze back to the bear— though continuing to steal few glances at her discreetly.

Rantaro's expression hardened, differing from the soft smile he had been wearing mere seconds ago, as he stared down at the bear several feet shorter than him with zero patience.

Tsumigi suddenly spoke up, tone shaky and nervous, "Is... Does this mean that... the killing game is going to c- continue…?" There it was. The reality that had stared them right in the face, but hadn't hit them yet as the shock had still been wearing off bit by bit.

Kaito suddenly really missed the warmth of Anya's hands.

The previous excitement and giddiness of Himiko seemed to fade away, and there had returned her regular sulky mood. "... And I brushed my teeth for nothing." Shuichi spoke up again, worried for the girl's hygiene, "U- uh, I think you should still be brushing your teeth, Himiko...!"

Kirumi shook her head, bringing everyone back to the topic, "I assumed something similar to this would happen." The maid sighed, suddenly feeling a new wave of depletion and stress hit her.

Rantaro suddenly spoke up from his thoughtful silence, "... I see. So that's how we're going to do this." His eyes darted to no one in particular, speaking to, well, no one in particular. "We're gonna have to defeat Monokuma,,, and the person behind this twisted joke." With his voice low in seriousness, he crossed his arms.

#mod chia #rp #RantAnya

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andreil-protection-squad · 4 years

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So I wrote some Kevin x Seth smut and here you have it

Please excuse any grammatical errors, english’s not my first language and I’m still trying to learn how to proper use it in a text lol

Anyway, my second attempt at ever writing smut, please be kind.

__________

“I can’t fucking take this anymore,” Seth mumbles. He mumbles something more, but Kevin can’t quite make it out.

“Don’t be such a bitch,” he replies. “The game starts in about an hour.”

“Not everything is about fucking exy, you fucking maniac,” the other boy answers. “I mean, I really need some pot right now, ‘cuz I am so fucking stressed.” Seth groans loudly, which gathers the attention of his other teammates, but he doesn’t even spare a second glance to them. “Fuck off,” he mumbles in their direction.

Kevin’s face scrunches, as he thinks about high Seth, who is so much more chill than the regular Seth. The red in his eyes is almost calming and the slow movement of his limbs can be described as mesmerizing, if it wasn’t for the fact, that Kevin would always think about all the times, he had the horrible thought, that Seth wouldn’t be able to play exy again after smoking_._ Fortunately, Seth was always able to throw a punch and a ball, no matter how much he smoked, so there really wasn’t any reason to worry about him at all.

“You know what, Day? I’m gonna smoke in the bathroom and you’re gonna cover me.” Seth stands and Kevin raises his eyebrows.

“Why should I do that, Gordon?” he asks. “And why would you rather smoke than watch the report on the team?” Kevin glances at his teammates, who all watch the report, while being busy with doing their usual routine before a game. Nicky texts Erik, Andrew is half-asleep in Neil’s lap and Allison is painting her nails, even though she will have to do it again once the game is finished. But atleast everyone – besides Seth and Andrew – has their attention focused on the right thing: Exy.

“You could also suck my dick, but I guess that won’t happen either”, Seth suggests snarky. “You need to chill the fuck out with your exy bullshit, dude. There are other things in life, too.”

“Like pot?” Kevin asks.

“Like pot”, he agrees. “See, you understand me. So, excuse me, while I go smoke some.”

Before Seth can go, Kevin reaches out and catches his wrist. “You can’t fucking smoke some pot before a game, Gordon. You won’t be able to do shit.”

“Bummer.”

“I mean it, Seth. If you make us loose, then I will shove all of the opposing teams exy racquets up your sorry ass.”

“Jesus”, Seth mumbles and gets his hand free. “You are such a lame fucker, did you know that? Loosen up a bit, will you?”

“I will, if we win this game.” Kevin raises his eyebrows again.

“Fine. Fine, I won’t smoke. But I need to piss.” He walks a step, then stops and turns around again. “Unless you don’t believe me and want to check, that I really am only pissing.”

Kevin growls in defense. “Actually, I need to go to. So yeah, I will keep you company.”

“Great, I can’t even take a piss without you playing my watchdog,” Seth mumbles. As they both begin to leave the waiting room for the Palmetto State Foxes, none teammates even notice it. And even if they would have, it wouldn’t be that uncommon of a sight – Seth and Kevin both leave together for the bathroom several times a month. It’s a natural sight, really. Not even Aaron has the audacity to leave a snarky comment for them, because he doesn’t have to.

The second the bathroom door falls in place behind them, Seth checks all of the stalls to see, if anyone is still in there, then he takes the trashcan and the potted plant in the corner and shoves both of them right in front of the door. “No lock,” he says. “But better than nothing.” He winks at Kevin before he relocates into one of the empty stalls farthest away for the door. “What’re you waitin’ for, Day? Get that ass in here.”

Kevin chuckles and blushes. It’s also nothing new for him and Seth to fool around when they both want to. It’s kind of their thing, like Andrew and Neil have their roof, or how Allison sneaks her hand into Renee’s when she thinks no one’s looking. There is really nothing more to it than some sex. But Kevin would lie, if he didn’t think of it as more. Every time they do it – in an empty bathroom, on his bed in the dorm while the others are out or even in the dark and shadow-y bushes outside of the Foxhole Court – he has this feeling in his chest, that it’s something more, at least for him. He actually and generally likes Seth, even if he would never tell him that because then Seth’s gigantic ego would explode.

Before Seth can grow impatient, Kevin moves in front of him. Seth sits on the closed toilet but is still tall enough, that Kevin doesn’t has to bend down too much to kiss him hard and fierce. Seth’s lips part in an instant and he grasps Kevin’s neck with one hand to pull him even closer to him. A moan hangs between them, like the hot air between their mouths. Kevin smiles as Seth’s mouth begins to wander to his throat, where he slightly bites his skin. Cold shivers run through him, Seth’s finger trace the little hairs on the back of his head and begins to suck on his skin. Kevin throws his head back to let out another groan, then he slips his legs between Seth’s legs to stand even closer to him. He could feel the hard on of the other boy pressing on his thigh.

“Come ‘ere,” Seth mumbles. He presses his finger in Kevin’s neck to pull him closer to him and then they are kissing again, licking each other’s lips, biting them, playing with their tongues. Seth tastes like smoke and mint bubblegum and Kevin enjoys everything about that.

He buries his hand in the other boy’s hair while his own dick just continues to grow. He can feel it itching against his jeans, longing to be freed. Kevin’s free hand begins to wander down Seth’s chest, just past his hard nipples that poke through his shirt. Seth groans again but Kevin just kisses him harder. Just hearing him breath is enough that Kevin grows impatient himself. He wants him and he wants him now.

“Hey.” Seth looks breathless and hot as Kevin stops kissing him, but his brows are tight. “Why’d you stop, Day?”

“Ask again and I won’t continue, you shithead,” Kevin answers while he reaches his destination with his hand. Seth’s dick is hard against his pants and the moment he lays his fingers on the bulge in the other boy’s jeans, Seth moans.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

“Yeah, that’s what’s gonna happen,” he says grinning. Kevin opens Seth’s zipper and Seth start to stand and pulls down his pants and boxer in one go. The many times he now has seen Seth’s dick are enough, that Kevin doesn’t admire the view anymore but gets to work. He strokes the skin before he reaches out to hold its entire length in his hand. Seth groans even more and sits again. He presses one arm against the stall wall while Kevin begins to gently rub his dick up and down, up and down again.

“You fucking,” he begins to mumble but stops and bites his lips the second, Kevin touches the tip of his dick.

Instead of saying something back and ignoring the fact, that several thoughts in his head are screaming about the lack of hygiene on this bathroom floor, he kneels between Seth’s parted legs and begins to blow the other boy. It’s something he’s done many times now, but every time feels like another life where he just begins to experience this side of his sexuality anew. Being with a boy was so much different than being with a girl. Maybe Nicky really had a point and he, Kevin, too needed someone to lean against. Sucking someone’s dick was never really on Kevin’s to-do list when he started to have feelings for other people, but now that he’s done it more and more times, he really can’t tell why he never thought about the fact, that he might be into this. It was always girls when he discussed his sexual preferences and maybe this was all Riko’s fault, who stole his virginity and also his free will to experiment, but whatever it was - it lead to Kevin leaning on a bathroom floor with his teammates just outside the door and licking the tip of Seth’s dick who looks already like he might cum any second.

“I swear to god, if you cum before I even got a chance to get touched, I am going to murder you,” Kevin says as he stops blowing. “Like, seriously. It’s like you can’t hold out for another minute or what?”

“It’s been days since my last shot,” Seth grumbles. “Also, you’re too good at this. You’re making me feel things.”

“What a wonder,” Kevin laughs. “I’m making you feel things while I literally devour your fucking dick. I guess everyone would feel things when I had their cock against my throat.”

“I fucking hate you,” Seth says. He grabs Kevin by the shoulder and forces him up, before he kisses him hard and hot. “Get that pants down,” he mumbles between two breathless kisses.

Kevin does as demanded. His dick springs out as his pants and boxer drop to his feet. The cold air feels good against his skin but even better is the feeling of Seth’s fingers on his cock. Ever since their first time, Seth would give Kevin a hand job whenever he felt like it. He didn’t even care that other people could see them. Whenever Seth was feeling horny enough, he would stick his hand into Kevin’s pants. This time, though, as he was stroking Kevin’s dick with his hand, he pushes himself up, spins them around without ever breaking their lip contact and then forces him away from Kevin’s mouth.

“I will suck you so hard, you won’t be able to remember your own name,” he says before he drops to his own knees.

The sight of Seth swallowing Kevin whole was a real blessing, even though Kevin quickly closes his eyes and throws his head back, as the wet and hot feeling of Seth’s mouth was doing things to his dick. An animalistic groan builds in his throat, but he is able to hold it a bit longer in him. The slurping sound that Seth makes whenever he opens his mouth and takes a breath is just another sharp knife in Kevin’s stomach, twisting with the longing after releasing and more pleasure. He grabs a fistful of Seth’s hair, just to feel this boy even closer to him. He moans loudly.

“Be a bit louder and everyone can watch in a minute,” Seth complains with wet lips and saliva sticking to his chin. Kevin, throbbing and pulsing and hot, lets out a quick whine, before Seth rolls his eyes and swallows him again. This time, as Seth lets his teeth make some good and honest work on Kevin’s dicks skin without hurting him, he puts a hand over his mouth to contain the next moan that was already escaping him. The feeling of a river pulsing in his skin grows stronger with every lick and touch and hot, wet kiss Seth does to him, so much that Kevin must pull his teammates mouth away from his dick. “So fast?” Seth asks grinning. “And you’re one to complain.”

Seth stands again and wipes his mouth before Kevin can pull him close again. It doesn’t even bother him, that Seth now tastes like his own dick. He just kisses him, licks his lips, grinds his tongue again Seth’s, bites the sensitive skin right next to his lip corner. Seth moans into his mouth. “You got a condom?” Kevin asks.

“Always for you, dear,” Seth replies against his lips before he parts away from him to reach in his jeans pocket on the floor. “Will you do me the honor?”

“Fuck you,” Kevin says but catches condom and rips it open before pulling it over Seth’s throbbing, hard cock.

“No, I think, I’ll rather fuck you,” Seth says with a sly grin.

Kevin turns around and bends over. He feels one of Seth hands on his shoulder, massaging his hot skin, before he feels two of his other fingers entering his hole. Another beastly moan builds in his throat, as Seth begins to widen his ass, entering another finger just a moment later. They didn’t bring any lube, but they did it so often without that Kevin was sure, that it didn’t matter now. He could hear Seth spitting in his hand and then the wet, cold touch of his fingers, rubbing all over his hole. His dick twitches and he uses his other hand to work on himself while Seth was busy preparing him.

Seth’s hand slides down from his shoulder to his lower back and the next thing Kevin knows, is the tip of a dick entering his ass. This moan he couldn’t contain anymore. Beastly, loud and deep it escaped his mouth the second he presses his hand on it. “Fucking be quiet, Day, I know I’m good.”

“Fuck – fuck you, Gordon,” Kevin is able to reply before Seth slides all the way in.

The feeling of a dick entering him was also something Kevin never thought he would experience, but as Seth now slowly began to widen Kevin’s ass by pulling his dick out and entering again, he was sure it was something he wouldn’t want to miss again. A girl could never, he thought as Seth enters again. This was nothing compared to his own fingers or that one dildo Nicky gifted him as a joke a year ago. Feeling Seth inside him was real and raw and just unbelievable hot. He wanted every inch of him and more. Everytime Seth pushes himself in, Kevin loses his mind. His hole itched and tightened around the cock in it, but he knows it was just preparing itself for all the other pounds that were coming. Seth laughs and moans.

“This is better than pot,” he says while pounding again. “Guess you were right, Day.”

Kevin can’t answer. He is too busy with blocking his own mouth from messaging their teammates of their little game in here with a loud and hot moan, that’s already tickling in his throat. His eyes roll back into his skull, while Seth builds up speed and power, pounding faster and harder into him. Seth’s dick inside of him should be enough to make him cum, but Kevin just fastens that process by stroking his own cock with his other hand. Masturbating alongside Seth fucking him is just the best relaxation before an important game and while Kevin feels his cum building up in his balls, he hears Seth’s balls slap against his cheeks with every pound.

“Fuck,” Seth groans. “I could fuck you all day.”

“I would let you,” Kevin can say before he presses his hand against his mouth again. He feels the cum leaving his dick just as a hot feeling runs through his whole body. Anticipation is dead and the new king of his body’s name is pleasure.

“I’m gonna –,” Seth starts, but he cuts himself short.

The next thing Kevin feels, is Seth grabbing a fistful of his hair and pressing his dick as far inside Kevin’s ass as he can. Then there are waves and waves of hotness in him, throbbing feelings and wet salvia against his hole. Seth releases another load into the condom that’s thankfully still on, but even with that Kevin can feel it in him. They both pant and breath for their lives. Seth chuckles as he presses a soft and lazy kiss against Kevin’s shoulder blade.

“Nice one,” he breaths.

“You’re better be relaxed enough now,” Kevin replies breathless. His own skin buzzes. He feels himself in every pore, everything is more colorful. His heart races against his chest and he counts the seconds Seth still remains inside of him.

“I could go for another round,” Seth admit sheepishly.

“Fuck you,” Kevin says. “We don’t have the time.”

“Bummer,” he answers and sighs, before pulling himself out of Kevin. “It was a good ride though.”

“It was,” Kevin agrees. “Maybe,” he starts and turns around to witness Seth pulling the filled condom of his dick, “Maybe we can have round two when were back in Palmetto.”

Seth catches his eye and grins. “You little bitch,” he says. “You’re really starting to enjoy this, huh?”

Kevin growls angrily. “Don’t start_ _with that, Seth. We both know that it’s not really easy to not enjoy this. Also, we’re both really good at doing it. I don’t think I would have this much fun with another guy.”

“I feel loved,” Seth says with a sarcastic grin before he throws the condom into the toilet. “Clean that up,” he then adds and points at the sticky white marks on the ground. With a smirk on his lips, he leans forward and kisses Kevin again, hot and wet but also soft and more affectionate. “Maybe I really enjoy it too, Day.”

Even though Seth is a fucking bitch who wouldn’t say shit to save his own life, he really makes Kevin feel good whenever they kiss and fuck. It’s not even his primordial instinct kicking in, telling him to enjoy the warm body next to his while he can. It’s a feeling deeply buried in his heart that he’s way too afraid to tell without knowing if Seth could even reply to those feelings with enough thought and meaning. Kevin smiles and pushes that thought away. For now, it’s good enough for him that he can have Seth whenever they please. He doesn’t need the conformation that it’s something more for both of them, because he knows it is for him and he knows he is the only one entering Seth’s bed.

They share one last, lazy soft kiss before Seth walks over to the sink and cleans himself up and Kevin admires the muscled, toned back of his – boyfriend? Lover? Something different? It doesn’t matter, he tells himself. He loves that it’s Seth and he loves every second with him, even if they only throw snarky comments at each other before they make out in an empty bathroom stall.

Kevin Day doesn’t have to love Seth Gordon but maybe he just does.

#Kevin Day #Seth Gordon #Sethvin #All for the game #Neil Josten #Andrew Minyard #Allison Reynolds #Nicky Hemmick #Erik Klose #Aftg #be careful consuming this #it's some raw fuckery #also Seth is a desaster and I love him #I can see the appeal behind this ship tbh #maybe I'm shipping them too #But I'm still calling them Sethin cuz it just sounds better

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quarterfromcanon · 5 years

Text

Next to You

Heather & Valencia - Femslash February - Day 15 - Playlist [1,550 words]

“How are you completely packed right now?” Valencia huffed while arranging ensembles along the edge of the mattress. “I’ve loaded and unloaded my suitcase three times just since you’ve been sitting there.”

“This is all routine for me,” Heather reminded her. “Davis family reunions have been around longer than I have. The specific pants and stuff change from year to year, but the basic wardrobe requirements stay the same.”

“I still don’t know how to prepare for their weather.” Valencia put her hands on her hips and considered three different shirts. "Seventy degrees for us versus seventy degrees for them could feel totally different. I don’t want to shake your grandparents’ hands with pit stains but I also don’t want to be the weird California girl who keeps shivering every time she’s under a shady tree.”

Heather unfolded her left leg from beneath her body. She stretched it across the sheets to point to an option with her toe. “That one. Open with a tank top. You can tie it around your waist if you get overheated, but you also don’t have to worry about it hugging your arms too tightly and showing sweat if you need the extra layer.”

“Thank you.” Valencia adhered to the suggestion and rolled the chosen garment the way she’d learned from a YouTube luggage space-saving tutorial.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Heather didn’t look up from her laptop, but her voice was sympathetic and knowing.

Valencia twisted the recommended tank top in her fists. “This just means being around a lot of people. Like, so many. I come from a big family too, but I’ve got a safety net there. Everyone knows that Fernanda Perez would destroy their bloodline if they went after any of her daughters. It’s one of those ‘it’s only okay when I do it’ things, but it does provide the benefit of not having to hear what my aunts really think of me. They only discuss it when we’re out of earshot. I won’t have that going for me with your relatives.”

Heather waved her hands over herself in a ‘What am I?’ gesture.

“Yes, I’ll have you,” Valencia acknowledged. “I know you’d defend me if you had to, but I don’t want that to even come up. I don’t want to be the cause of a fight on a day that’s just supposed to be happy and fun.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Heather asserted again. “Seriously, they won’t give you any trouble. The Council of Elders might creak their old bones to give us side-eye, but that’s as confrontational as it’ll get.”

Valencia shuddered. “Can we call them something else? They sound terrifying.”

“Cheaters of Death? Ghosts of Prejudices Present? Good Ol’ Fashioned Pains in the Ass?”

Valencia smiled in spite of herself. “You’re teasing me.”

“A little. Is it helping?”

“Kind of.” Valencia sorted bottles of hygiene products in a clear, rectangular bag. “What’s got you clicking away over there? And why does it require headphones?”

“Travel soundtrack,” Heather answered simply. She held one of the headphone cushions to her ear with visible concentration. “I’ve gotta switch a few around. They’re fucking with the flow.”

“For the flight?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“For me?”

“Yep.”

“Music to soothe the anxious beast?”

Heather’s eyelids crinkled at the edges. “Something like that.”

Valencia settled across the narrow vacant space on the bed. She ran her palm up and down Heather’s leg from ankle to knee and back again. “I appreciate the personalized calming technique you’re creating but, if it makes you feel any better, I honestly won’t notice whether it all blends perfectly or not.”

“I know. I just like the challenge.” Heather twitched her shoulders.

Valencia poked the curve of Heather’s muscle. “You take your arrangements very seriously.”

“‘Music is crucial. Beyond no way can I overstress this fact.’” Heather intoned while she typed something else into the search bar.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re quoting that futuristic bumper car book at me again?”

Heather leaned sideways toward the shelf along the wall. Her fingers found the third level up without looking and counted across three spines before sliding out the fourth novel over from the right. Valencia verified the author name and title even though she was already familiar and shook her head. Rant by Chuck Palahniuk.

“Chapter seventeen,” Heather confirmed. “Hit Men.”

“I’m pretty sure you have the best memory of anyone I know. It figures that line would stick since it does sort of sound like you.”

Heather winked. “‘I carry a mix for any human condition.’”

Valencia lightly slapped her hand against Heather’s thigh. “Showoff.”

They both resumed their activities until dinnertime approached. It was decided that ordering in seemed the best course of action so they wouldn’t have any dishes to do before their early bedtime. They settled on opposite ends of the couch with their legs crisscrossed atop the middle cushion.

“You said we won’t be the only not-straight people there, right?” Valencia prodded at her noodles with chopsticks.

Heather tucked a diced carrot into her cheek. “Are you still stressing?”

“Are you still surprised?”

Heather gave Valencia’s kneecap a comforting squeeze with her calves. “No. I was just hoping it’d pass, for your sake. But yeah, there’ll be at least one other couple there. My cousin Nancy came out back when she was in high school. She’s bringing her fiancée, Charlie. They won’t be hard to track down; Charlie’s hair is an even brighter red than Paula’s. It’s like the easiest game of Where’s Waldo in a group of brunets.”

Valencia nodded. She tapped her hands against the sides of the takeout box. “So which of you two is older?”

“Me by about... four years?” Heather tilted her hand from side to side to indicate a rough estimate. “I was somewhere in college by that summer. She texted me the week before to get advice. I showed up in this denim jacket covered in, like, every pride button and patch I could find. I had a pansexual pin for her in my pocket."

Valencia’s expression softened and she nudged Heather’s waist with her foot. “That was really sweet of you.”

Heather shrugged. She focused her attention on fishing out an elusive pea in her rice. “The plan totally worked because, no matter how many people noticed what she was wearing, I was always gonna be the more distracting one. It took some of the heat off Nancy and helped her chill out a bit. We basically sat on a picnic bench all day just talking and laughing, staring back at anybody who got a funny look on their faces.” She laughed quietly. “It was great.”

“All right, well, mission accomplished.” Valencia reached for her drink. “I’m at least a little excited for this gathering since it means I get to meet her.”

“She said the same thing.”

“Psh, no she didn’t.”

Heather pulled out her cell, tapped the screen, and scrolled. She turned it to face Valencia with her thumb under a message in gray.

Valencia clutched her heart. “Aww!”

Heather clicked her phone off and returned it to her pocket. “Told you.”

___

The four-and-a-half hour flight from LAX to DTW was a ride for Valencia in both the literal and emotional sense of the word. Her inner responses to their journey swooped from eager to bored to panicked and then repeated the cycle. Heather remained ever-present and attentive, able to track and accommodate whichever stage Valencia was experiencing at the time.

The digital map on the fold-down display indicated they were now flying over Michigan. Valencia couldn’t help obsessively checking every so often to see if she could spy the city below, even though she knew it would be a while yet before they were that far across the state. Heather snuggled against Valencia’s shoulder with her cell phone in her lap, set to play the collection of tracks she had so meticulously assembled. The headphone splitter was nestled in her half-open hand.

They were about twenty-five minutes from the disembark when Valencia finally got a proper view through the clouds. Her breath caught in her chest and it was at least a full sixty seconds before she became aware of the lyrics playing through her earbuds.

‘Is this the fate that half of the world has planned for me? I know I love you, and you love the sea...’

Valencia turned to nudge her girlfriend awake, but Heather was already watching her intently. They met each other’s gaze for a moment and Valencia arched an eyebrow. “Did you time it out so one of my favorite songs by Vampire Weekend would be on right now?”

Heather could not quite conceal the upward turn at the corner of her lips. “I’m flattered, V, but don’t give my playlist-making skills too much credit.”

Valencia dropped her voice an octave. “Oh my God, you’re so full of it. You’re, like, so full of crap.”

Heather fluffed Valencia’s sleeve like a pillow. “That’s a good impression. You should trot that one out at the reunion. You’ll be a hit.” She shut her eyes and sighed contentedly. “I’m gonna catch a few more Zs before we land.”

Valencia rested her cheek against Heather’s hair. She pressed a soft, discrete kiss to her forehead. “I love you, too.”

#H+V FF #CEG Writing by Me #Helencia #Heather x Valencia

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sp4c3-0ddity · 7 years

Text

Be Gentle

For Lance Loves Ladies Week, Day 4: Music / Makeovers

Lance and Pidge swap bodies, which totally counts as a makeover

This one beta-ed by @bouquet-roserade

Read it on Ao3 (which I would recommend because this one like 4000 words and tumblr is being weird about the italics)

Pidge did not expect to wake up in a bed, anymore than she ever expected to fall asleep at her workstation in the Green Lion's hangar.

Nor did she expect to see Lance's belongings strewn over the floor, his jacket hanging from a hook on the wall.

I'm in Lance's room. Why am I in Lance's room?

Well, that was the question she should've asked, but at the moment she was still too groggy from sleep to do much more than roll over and bury her face in a pillow.

A pillow that smelled suspiciously like Lance, piney like cologne and minty like toothpaste. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent far more than she would've if she was more alert, but a knock on the door interrupted her.

She jerked up, almost bumping her head on the bed's frame.

"Hey Lance, we're starting drills soon, so hurry up and do your morning hygiene routine."

Pidge relaxed. It was just Keith, there to wake up Lance in case he overslept.

Wait.

If Pidge was in here, alone in Lance's room (she glanced around quickly, making sure she was alone), then where was Lance?

Her eyes fell on the floor-length mirror in one corner of the room, and she finally caught sight of her reflection.

Lance's face stared back at her.

"What. The. Fuck."

---

Lance woke up slowly, more uncomfortable than he had ever been in his life - and yes, he included the time he almost blew himself up pushing Coran from the path of a bomb. His neck and back both ached from his awkward position of sleeping sitting up, with his head resting on a desk, and he idly wondered if he had aged several decades overnight.

He straightened, stretching and trying to work the ache from his body. He extended his arms over his head, then behind him. Rubbing his eyes, he stood, wondering why and how he fell asleep at a desk.

He heard a Lion rumble at him, and he glanced behind him. "Oh, hi Green," he said.

Then his slow morning brain processed what he said.

"Green?" he said.

The Green Lion stared at him, eyes alight with...well, Lance didn't have the same bond with her that he had with his own Lion, but he felt like they were narrowed at him with suspicion. Because he was in the Green Lion's hangar. Without Pidge.

"Why am I here?" he asked the Green Lion, as if she could answer him.

The Green Lion simply growled, and Lance was not versed enough in cat-speak - sentient robot or otherwise - to translate without the direct mind link.

"Where's Pidge?" he asked.

"Pidge!" someone called from outside.

Lance glanced up to see Hunk staring at him; when did Hunk get so tall? "Pidge isn't here, buddy," he said. "It's just me."

Hunk frowned, confusion on his face. "Yeah, and I came here to get you. Shiro's assembling us for drills." Then his frown deepened into worry. "You slept here again, didn't you?"

"What do you mean again?" Lance demanded. "I've never slept here before."

Hunk chuckled, but he still looked stern when he said, "That's a lie."

"No, seriously, I sleep in my own bed every night!"

"Please, Pidge, we both know that's not true."

"Pidge?!" And then dread curled in his gut, and Lance knew why the Green Lion eyed him like she did, and why Hunk seemed so much taller, and why he didn't remember falling asleep in the hangar.

"Oh, fuck."

---

Training drills were canceled in favor of something a little more important.

"So you are Pidge?" Allura said, pointing at Lance's body, then at Pidge's, "and you are Lance?"

"Guilty as charged," Lance - in Pidge's body - joked.

Pidge shot him a look, as if she didn't appreciate him using her voice to joke. Lance shrugged, to show her he really couldn't help this. Pidge rolled her - his - eyes and crossed her - his - arms.

Damn this was weird; and he'd only recently found out Pidge was a girl too!

Which made this whole thing even weirder. He was trapped in a girl's body!

It didn't feel much different than his own, really. His hands and feet were smaller, and he had to look up to talk to everyone, but the change was otherwise not awful.

Except Pidge had some dry skin; when they switched back, he needed to talk to her about moisturizing. Which reminded him.

"Pidge, I'm charging you to take care of my face."

Pidge turned her head to glare at him - and boy was it strange seeing her glare at him with his own two eyes. "What? Seriously? That's what you're concerned about?"

"Looks like mine - uh, yours don't take care of themselves."

Nearby, poor Shiro looked like he was having a conniption, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. Coran stroked his mustache thoughtfully, and Allura just frowned in confusion.

Keith and Hunk, however, seemed to be fighting giggles. Lance made a note to himself that, as soon as he got his own, stronger body back, he would kick both of their asses for this.

"How can you be so calm about this?" Pidge demanded. "You're in my body! I'm in yours!"

"Enjoy it while it lasts?" Lance suggested.

Pidge really looked like she wanted to smack him; she probably refrained only because she didn't want to damage her own body.

"How do we undo this, Princess?" Shiro asked.

"I honestly don't know," Allura admitted. "Perhaps we can put them in a healing pod? Or a cryopod?"

"The same cryopod," Coran said. "Like with you and the mice."

"The mice and I never exchanged bodies," Allura pointed out.

"How did this even happen?" Pidge asked. "We haven't done anything strange. No cryogenic sleep, no mind melding, no telepathy, nothing! Why is it me and Lance? Why not Keith and Hunk? Or Hunk and Lance? Or--"

"All right, we get it," Lance interrupted, rolling his eyes. "You want your own body back."

"And you don't?!"

"I do," said Lance, "but there's no point in panicking about it."

Then, Pidge grabbed him by the collar and brought his face close to hers. And though, in the deepest recesses of his mind, he imagined this sort of scenario many times - Pidge tugging him closer, their faces inches apart - he never thought he would have this perspective, in this situation. And usually he didn't mind a closeup of his own face, but knowing Pidge's mind was operating it was jarring.

It didn't help that she was taller now.

"Listen, Lance, I'm panicking because I have no idea how or why this happened!" she explained. "Which is why I'm annoyed that you're not panicking. Do you want to be trapped in someone else's body for the rest of your life?!"

Lance grabbed her - his - wrist, and she let go of him. "Okay, obviously this isn't ideal, but if I had to choose someone's I wouldn't mind having Shiro's."

Nearby, Keith snorted, Hunk snickered, and Shiro rubbed his face as if exhausted.

Pidge rolled her eyes. "But do you see my point now?"

Lance sighed. "Yes, I see your point."

"Good." Pidge stepped away from him, crossing her arms. "Now we find out how this happened."

---

Coran's first idea was to have them 'strengthen their telepathic bond' with the mind-sharing headset.

Pidge fidgeted as she put it on, the device tangling uncomfortably in hair that was even shorter than her own. She wanted to tell everyone that wasn't directly involved to leave the room, since for some reason they all insisted on lingering.

But in truth, if she heard either Keith or Hunk laugh or even heard the suggestion of a laugh from one of them, she would make use of Lance's physical strength and kick them.

"So yesterday everything was as it should be, yes?" Coran asked, looking between Pidge and Lance.

"If you mean I was sleeping in my own body, yes," Pidge agreed. She glared at Lance, who glared back, seeming to say, This isn't my fault!

"Now, before we begin, can either of you think of some way your minds might have crossed?" Coran wondered.

"Whenever we form Voltron," Lance said, shrugging.

"Then if that's the case, why have only you two been affected?" Hunk said. "Shouldn't we all...I don't know...have rotated bodies or something?"

"That reminds me," Allura input thoughtfully, "we don't know how long this will last, so once we're done here we'll have to verify you can still pilot your Lions."

Great. Not only could Pidge not 'pilot' her own body, but she might not be able to pilot Green either.

"Uh, if it helps," Lance said, putting a hand up as if he was answering a question in a classroom, "the Green Lion didn't seem to like me very much this morning."

"I don't like you much either right now," Pidge said, crossing her arms.

"Again, not my fault, Pidge," Lance retorted.

"Guys, let's not argue," Shiro said, staring them both down. Pidge shrunk under his gaze, and she saw Lance do the same from the corner of her eye. "I think it's obvious that neither of you wants this."

"Yeah," Lance muttered under his breath, "if I wanted to be stuck in a girl's body this isn't how I would've chosen to do it."

Pidge's face heated up, angry and embarrassed, and before she could stop herself she struck out at Lance, socking him in the shoulder.

"What was that for?!" he demanded, rubbing his arm.

At the moment, Pidge didn't care that she might've left a bruise on her own damn body. "I heard that," she hissed. "And I'd better not hear it again."

Shiro sighed, and Hunk and Keith seemed to decide - finally - that they would rather be anywhere else than there. They left, leaving Pidge and Lance alone with people who were, functionally, the only adults aboard the Castle.

"Well, Number Five, or should I say Number Three," said Coran, glancing once more at Pidge, "let's have you think of the last thing you remember before falling asleep in your own body, shall we?"

Pidge rolled her eyes but agreed, considering the task she was intent on the night before. She closed her eyes, and her brother's face flashed in her mind, broadcast for everyone in the room to see. It was the grainy image she'd found of his escape on Beta Traz, but it flickered into the photo of them together she still had in her room.

I'll get you back, Matt, Pidge thought, you and Dad both. Only Lance would be able to hear that though.

She cracked her eyelids, and sure enough Lance stared at her, frowning. It was strange seeing sympathy for her on her own face...though doubtless it was an expression that Lance still somehow managed to make his own.

"All right, your turn new Number Five," Coran told Lance.

"Okay, that nickname is kind of demeaning, Coran," Lance complained. But he closed his eyes, and Pidge saw herself in the midst of a huge family, ranging in age from baby to ancient. Everyone as far as she could tell smiled, and some of them smiled just like Lance did.

"Oh," she said. The sigh slipped out of her before she could stop herself, and her chest ached.

"So what do we think is the through-line?" Coran wondered.

"We both miss our families," Pidge said quietly.

Lance only grunted.

At least you know yours is safe, Pidge thought along the link.

I know, Lance replied. His internal voice sounded like his usual external one. But I still miss them.

I know, Pidge said. My mother must be safe, but I miss her just as much as I miss my father and brother. Heat pricked her eyes, and she reached up to wipe the tears before they fell between the gaps in her eyelids. She even heard Lance sniff.

Blindly she reached forward, only for Lance to meet her halfway. The hug was a little awkward, since Pidge was used to being the smaller one, but somehow she managed to tuck Lance into her arms, his chin on her shoulder.

Crying while being held was cathartic. Maybe they should've done this sooner.

She felt Lance's amusement at her thought; it was not unlike her sensing the Green Lion's feelings and impressions, nor was it entirely unwelcome.

A hand fell on her shoulder, and Pidge opened her eyes to see Allura patting her awkwardly, a frown on her face, probably attempting to comfort her. Shiro seemed to be doing the same for Lance.

"You're still Pidge then?" Allura asked.

Pidge nodded, wiping her face. She and Lance disentangled their limbs carefully and looked up at Coran, waiting.

"I am, as you Paladins say, stumped," Coran admitted. He stroked his mustache.

Disappointment coiled in her gut. "If there's nothing we can do now, I'd like to go work on something."

"Of course, Pidge," said Allura. "We'll let you know if we have anymore ideas."

"Thank you," said Pidge. She stood up and walked out of the room, Lance's eyes following her out.

She still felt them on her back even when she stood before her Lion.

---

Lance found Hunk in the kitchen, drawing designs of some kind on a tablet.

He looked up. "Pidge?" he asked cautiously.

Lance shook his - or Pidge's, really - head. "Nope," he said, scowling, "still Lance."

"That sucks," he said.

Lance sat in the chair across from Hunk and propped his chin in his hand. "So do you have any idea how this might've happened?"

"Can't say I do," said Hunk. "It's kind of weird though."

"What is?" Lance wondered.

Hunk, attention diverted from the tablet in front of him, explained, "Well, before we shot into space in the Blue Lion, I never thought magic was real, you know? And yet here we are, and it turns out magic is real. Sort of."

"Uh, okay?"

"But magic isn't really reasonable," Hunk said, clasping his hands together on the table. "We don't understand its laws like we do with physics."

"I'm not sure what you're getting at, buddy," Lance admitted.

"What I'm saying," Hunk said, grinning, "is that you and Pidge? Maybe what happened has nothing to do with science, or at least not with science as we understand science."

"I'm still confused."

"Maybe it's magic?"

Lance stared at Hunk, and Hunk stared right back, grin widening. Then Lance laughed. "You know, maybe you're right." Then he scowled. "But if you are, how do we fix it? Who on the Castle knows about magic?"

Hunk shrugged. "Ask the princess?"

Usually Lance would jump at the opportunity to speak with Allura, especially for a reason that wasn't frivolous, but this body swap seemed too intimate, something shared only between him and Pidge. Even now he felt a little uncomfortable confiding in Hunk.

"I don't know, Hunk," said Lance. "She seems like the wrong pers--" An idea struck him, and it was so perfect he wished he'd thought of it before. He stood, his chair falling over with the vigor of his excitement. "I'm going to talk to Blue."

Hunk blinked at him. "That's actually brilliant."

"What can I say?" Lance said, smirking at him over his shoulder. "Maybe Pidge has rubbed off on me."

"You can only wish, dude."

---

The Green Lion had opened up for Pidge easily enough, so that was a load off her mind (and off Allura's too; she would have to tell the princess the 'good news'). But sitting slumped in the pilot's chair and avoiding her reflection wasn't doing her any good.

Neither was staring at her hands - Lance's hands, and imagining them holding her real, tiny ones. She tugged the gray hood of Lance's jacket over her head, and was glad that, at least, she had a reason to be wearing it that wasn't contrived.

The console in front of her lit up green, and Pidge straightened, wondering what the Green Lion was telling her. "What's wrong, girl?" she asked.

Pidge's own face appeared on the console. "Hi, Pidge," said Lance, waving at her from the screen.

"Hi Lance," she said, leaning in. "You're in the Blue Lion?"

"Yep." Lance smirked, the expression interesting on her face; Pidge wondered if she looked like that when she smirked. "Seems we had the same idea."

"How did you know I was in my Lion?"

"Blue told me." Off-screen, the Blue Lion purred.

Pidge scowled, and she felt the slightest hint of an apology from Green; doubtlessly she had informed the Blue Lion.

"So Blue, at least, doesn't care what I look like," Lance said, smiling.

"Why would she?" Pidge said.

"Well, I can't say I look as handsome as usual at the moment," Lance said, stretching.

Pidge scowled at him. "Gee, thanks."

"I mean, you're pretty, Pidge, don't get me wrong, but I miss my body, you know?"

"Yeah," Pidge said, though her mind was replaying the way Lance said, You're pretty, Pidge. She shook her head, dismissing the thought; what was wrong with her?

"So Hunk had an idea," Lance continued.

"What's that?"

"That magic had something to do with our dilemma."

Pidge hummed, considering; so many strange things had happened to them since they'd first formed Voltron that magic being the cause of all this wouldn't be surprising. But it was still too ambiguous for her liking. "Anything more specific?" she wondered.

"Nope," said Lance, "but I did come to ask Blue about it. Not talk to you, sad to say."

"I'm crushed," Pidge quipped.

"I know, I know," Lance said, laughing. "Conversations with me are treasures to be coveted."

Pidge didn't like how much she was blushing today. "You have no idea," she said.

Lance narrowed his eyes at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Pidge shrugged. "Nothing," she said, "but I'm cutting you off to talk to Green, like you suggested."

"Sure, whatever." Lance saluted her, and she ended the transmission with a single cue with her mind.

Then she slouched in her chair, huffing. "Green," she said, "what do you think happened?"

---

"An unfortunate side effect of getting shot through with quintessence?" Lance summarized as Blue fed him information. At an affirmative from his Lion, he tapped his chin. "That doesn't explain why it only affected me and Pidge though?"

Blue passed on more images and impressions, and Lance felt himself blushing. "That's not--what?" He rested his face in his hand. "You're saying it's because I was more concerned about Pidge at the time than I was about myself?" When Blue agreed, Lance said, "So what? And I call bull, because Shiro was plenty concerned about the rest of us!"

An image of Zarkon. Lance wrinkled his nose. "Okay, so Shiro was preoccupied with Zarkon and keeping the Black Lion away from him. This doesn't explain why Pidge and I are the only ones affected."

Not to my satisfaction anyway. For the first time he understood how Pidge felt about science and data.

Blue purred, sounding amused, and Lance grimaced, frustrated. "So if I had been more concerned about, say, Hunk than about myself, I would have swapped bodies with him?"

A negative.

"Uh, why not?"

A new image, that of a strong link, a connection, running two ways.

"I see...so Pidge was just as concerned for me as I was for her?"

Blue rumbled her agreement.

Lance cursed under his breath, words that his mother would've swatted him for uttering. "And how do we fix it?"

---

"So according to the Green Lion," Pidge explained to Allura, Shiro, and Coran, "Lance and I need to spend some time in the cryopods while wearing the headsets."

"How long?" Shiro asked.

Pidge shrugged, rubbing her arm. "I think for as long as our minds have been...swapped." She hugged herself; she didn't fancy spending twenty-four hours in a small enclosed space, whether or not she was aware of it. Thanks to her unwanted familiarity with the Castle's ventilation system, she found herself dreading any time spent in tight quarters.

"I'm curious how the Lions know the solution," Coran said contemplatively.

"According to Green it happened to two past Paladins."

Allura and Coran looked at each other, surprised, before they faced Pidge again. "That's certainly interesting," Allura said.

"Yes," said Coran. "Did your Lion know how this came about?"

Pidge blushed. "Yes," she said.

When she didn't explain, Allura pressed, "How?"

"I don't think--"

"Pidge, we need to know so we can keep it from happening again," said Allura.

Usually, Pidge, scientific mind that she was, would agree, would be more than happy to share what she knew, but this was simply too personal, too private. It was bad enough that Lance must know at this point.

Shiro, however, seemed to sense her discomfort. He rested a hand on her shoulder and said, "I'm sure that can wait, Princess. Let's find Lance and set up cryopods."

Allura frowned but agreed. She spoke a few quiet words to the mice on her shoulder and they scurried away, presumably to retrieve Lance, but he walked through the door before they got far.

"I know how to fix this!" he said, grinning.

"So do we," Pidge told him, a hint of smugness in her voice.

"Aw, you beat me?"

"What can I say?" Pidge said, smirking. "My Lion loves me more."

Lance pouted but didn't retort.

A cold, sinking feeling lay in Pidge's gut then when she remembered how, exactly, the mind swap came to be. She looked away from Lance and wordlessly followed Allura into the hall lined with cryopods.

Coran fixed them once more with the headsets, while Allura set up the cryopods. "We'll have you sleep for ten vargas," she explained. "I think that should be long enough, and we can't afford to be waylaid any longer if we require Voltron."

"Of course, Princess," said Lance without a hint of flirtation.

Pidge peered at him suspiciously, but he wouldn't look at her either. In fact, even through the activated mental link between them, he seemed to be keeping his mind carefully blank.

Pidge stared at the pod. She didn't want to go in.

"If it's anything like the healing pods, you won't even notice."

Pidge glanced to the side, at Lance. He smiled reassuringly at her, and Pidge realized that of course he must have sensed her reluctance. "I know," she said, "but it still..."

Lance reached out and grasped her hand. It was all backwards, her hand should've been the smaller and paler, but the gesture was comforting and warm nonetheless. "Don't worry, Pidge," he told her, "I'll be right here when you wake up."

Pidge then nodded, shoving aside her apprehension, and extracted her hand - too big, too dark - from Lance's - too small, too fair. "I'll hold you to that," she promised.

She stepped into the pod, grateful for the reassurance that he broadcast across their mind link even if it didn't do much to make her more comfortable. The pod closed, and she shivered as the temperature inside fell.

The last thing Pidge knew before she slept was Lance's warm presence in the back of her mind.

---

Lance blinked and flinched at the sudden warmth that flooded the pod as it slid open. He stepped forward on weak legs, falling bonelessly into someone's waiting arms.

"Ugh, I hate this part," he complained, voice muffled by a muscular arm.

"Lance, buddy?" said Hunk. "That you?"

Lance lazily raised his hand and offered a thumbs up. He followed the motion, and recognized the hand as his own. He smiled. "Well, that's a relief." Then he frowned, straightening as feeling returned to his limbs. "Where's Pidge?"

Hunk helped him turn to where Keith held Pidge up. He had one of her arms slung across his shoulders while she rubbed sleep from her eyes with her other hand.

Lance felt the all too familiar, all too unpleasant sting of jealousy in his stomach. "Aw, I wanted to catch her when she came out of the pod," he whined.

"Dude, you couldn't even catch yourself," Hunk reminded him.

"Details," he mumbled, burying his face in Hunk's shoulder.

Hunk removed the mind-linking headset from his head and patted him on the back, and he instantly missed the low, sleepy rumble in his mind that he knew to be Pidge. "You remind me of when my brother had his wisdom teeth taken out."

"Why's that?" Lance wondered.

"Because it's like you're on anesthesia, since you're being more honest than you normally would be."

"I'm plenty honest, Hunk."

"Not about everything," Hunk pointed. "Now do you want food first, or sleep?" He helped Lance out of the hall of pods and towards the Castle's main wing, Keith and Pidge stumbling along ahead of them.

"Pidge," said Lance, "I want to talk to Pidge."

"How about when you're not slurring your words?" Hunk suggested.

Lance just grunted, allowing Hunk to lead him to the kitchen. Halfway there, he managed to start walking on his own power, but he still almost tripped over his feet a few times, Hunk reaching out to grab his arm before he fell. And thanks to the return of his own height - and his longer legs - they caught up to Pidge and Keith right outside the kitchen doors.

Pidge glanced at him over her shoulder; she blushed slightly, and then Lance remembered why they swapped bodies in the first place.

"We should probably...talk," Lance said lamely.

Pidge eyed him suspiciously, but nodded. "Yeah, we probably should."

Nearby, Keith asked Hunk, "What are they talking about?"

Hunk patted Keith on the shoulder, a gesture that was one part comforting and one part condescending. "I'm sure we'll find out eventually."

---

Out of sight and hearing of the others (she had even gone so far as to check the vents for Allura's mice), Pidge sat on the floor of Lance's bedroom, her back against his bed. Her stomach was comfortably full of green goo, and she kept yawning even as Lance paced the entire length of his tiny room in front of her.

"So...you like me?" Lance said.

Pidge started to regret her meal. "Yes."

"Like, romantically?"

"Yes," Pidge snapped, rolling her eyes. Why him? she asked herself not for the first time.

Lance laughed, sitting beside her on the floor. He tried to hold her hand, but she snatched it away. "What?" he asked.

"I may have romantic feelings for you, Lance," she said, looking at anything but him, "but I also have enough self-respect to not want attention from a guy that likes someone else."

"Oh," said Lance. To Pidge's ears, a single syllable never sounded so disappointed. "What if I told you that I...don't?"

"I wouldn't believe you."

"Why not?"

Pidge shrugged and scowled at the floor. "I have no reason to. You've given me no reason to."

Lance squirmed, and Pidge fancied she knew him well enough by now to know he was ashamed. "You're right, except for the whole...justification."

"Of course." Pidge rolled her eyes.

"Look, our Lions told us there's a reason that we swapped and no one else did."

"And you think it's enough justification to put the moves on me?" Pidge said. Her heart pounded painfully, and even though she wanted nothing more than to lean into him, she still slid away, putting some space between them.

"No, no, that's not what--" Lance cut himself off and sighed, rubbing his face. "Listen, just... Pidge."

"What."

"I have feelings for you too, okay?" Lance said, and before Pidge could comment, before she could feel anything but blood rushing to her face, he continued, "And I think I have for a while now. Maybe it took something as extreme as exchanging bodies for me to realize it, but I do. I like you."

Pidge exhaled, then she turned her body to face his. She still refused to get closer, at least for the moment. "Prove it," she said.

Lance blinked at her; she half-expected him to scoff, or worse, to refuse or claim he already had. But instead he leaned towards her, smiling. "Tell me how."

Pidge smirked, a plan forming in her head. "It's easy," she said, trying a flirtatious tone. She wasn't sure it was convincing, but then she saw the way Lance blushed. She inched just a bit closer to him. "Don't just tell me how you feel; show me."

He moved a little closer. "And how do I do that?"

They were now seated so closely together that she could feel his warm breath on his face. "You're smart enough to figure it out yourself."

"Heh, you finally admit I'm sm--"

"Oh, just kiss me, stupid!"

And he did.

It wasn't all the proof Pidge needed, but it was good enough for now, feeling his soft lips on hers and his nose brushing her own.

Lance pulled away first, but any disappointment Pidge felt dissipated when he peered at her through half-lidded eyes.

"No offense Pidge," said Lance as he took her small hand in his large one, "I have nothing against your face and something really good did come of all this, but that was the worst makeover I've ever had."

#lance loves ladies week #plance #pidgance #flirtyrobot #the bodyswap au no one really asked for #but i couldn't resist writing #voltron #technically it's still the third day my time but i'm excited and also nervous about posting this #so here have at it #reem writes fic

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captainsbabysitter-blog · 7 years

Text

Space Princesses and Coffee Dates: Ch 2

So there’s probably going to be at least one more full chapter to this. Because @yourtropegirl asked for no smut, I might make an extra chapter at some point that can be read separately for those of you who would like that particular payoff.

First Chapter Here

Pairing: McKirk

Rating/Warnings: E for everyone. Fluff’s ahoy. Maybe some secondhand embarrassment.

Length: 1525 words

Summary: Here’s the date, guys! Enjoy awkward turtle Jim being precious.

The confirming text came a few hours later. ‘Sister said yes. Up for coffee in the morning?’

‘Coffee’s just about the only thing I *am* up for in the morning.’ And so what if he was picturing the way Bones’ eyes crinkled when he chuckled as Jim sent his reply.

He nearly choked on his mouthful of coffee when Len’s answer came back as ‘That’s a shame.’

“You okay, keptin?” Pavel’s voice carried across the room.

“He’s texting that doctor,” Sulu smirked. No one should look that smug when failing to fix an espresso machine. “Sounds like he’s better at flirting than we thought.”

A groan from the Russian preceded a $5 bill being slid across the counter. Sulu’s smug factor ramped up another couple notches as he pocketed it.

Jim tried to find it in himself to be offended. “You placed a bet on that?”

“What else are we going to do?” Sulu shrugged. Quiet curses were immediately followed by a resigned grumble. “Pav call Scotty. This stupid thing won’t work. With any luck, he’ll get in tonight.”

“Have fun with that,” Jim grinned while he tapped away at his phone. “I’m gonna lock up. You have your keys? Ny’s cat buried Spock’s somewhere and he can’t find them. You’ll have to let both of you in in the morning.”

“Yeah, alright,” Sulu waved him off absently, still not entirely content to leave the ill-behaved machine alone. “Have fun on your date. We expect details.”

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“Good thing you’ve never been described as ladylike in your life.”

Jim had a good chuckle at that as he hit most of the lights and locked the door behind him.

~*~*~

The next morning was largely spent getting ready. Under normal circumstances, Jim relied almost exclusively on his charm and how good his ass looked in jeans, but something about the way Bones flirted so casually twisted his tongue and his gut in knots while sending his heart thrumming against his ribcage. It had him standing in front of his closet, wide awake and just a little manic, at 6am. Two hours should be long enough to find something to wear, right? His thoughts were interrupted by several rapid-fire alerts from his phone.

‘You’ll be fine.’ Of course Ny would’ve heard. ‘Don’t overthink it and just be yourself.’

‘Nyota has informed me I should wish you well on your date.’

‘She said I should wish you luck, but as I don’t believe in it I saw little point.’

That was the tension break Jim needed. He laughed to himself and sent off a couple quick ‘Thanks, guys’ and turned back to his choices. It was just a coffee date, not dinner out somewhere nice so slacks seemed a bit much. Ass-hugging jeans it was, then. He chewed on his lip a bit as he debated between t-shirt and a button-up.

He snagged his phone from where he’d tossed it on the bed and took a couple pics to send to Uhura. ‘Ny I’m hopeless help?’

‘Oh my god, do you love this guy or something? You’re just going for coffee, right?’

‘Yeah at that café down the street from my place.’

‘Go with the t-shirt, but wear that leather jacket.’

‘Thanks. You’re the best.’

‘I know.’

Once the clothes were laid out on the bed, Jim hopped in the shower. His hair was styled meticulously, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth as his attention waffled between hygiene routines.

Ny knew exactly what she was talking about. Once Jim shrugged the leather jacket onto his shoulders and turned every which way in front of the mirror on the back of his door, he had to admit she was right. The jeans and t-shirt hugged his body nicely and the jacket was just loose enough. Together they looked thrown together enough to be casual for the setting, but definitely good enough to be worn on a date. He ran a hand over his chin just once more to make sure he didn’t miss a spot shaving before he booked it out the door. Just a few minutes to 8; if he left now, he’d make it to the café in time.

Len was leaning against the wall just beside the door waiting for him when Jim finally came up, and the blond felt his mouth run dry; those jeans should be illegal and the way he had the sleeves rolled up and the top couple buttons undone was just downright sinful. He’d let his stubble grow in again, and Jim had to admit the effect was stunning. He enjoyed the view for another couple moments before Len glanced his way and smiled.

“Hey, Bones!” Did he sound as jittery as he thought he sounded? He hoped not. Not when Bones looked cool as a cucumber.

“Morning, Jim.” Len pushed away from the wall as Jim drew closer. “Ready to head in?”

The grin he gave in response was cheeky. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

They put in their orders at the counter and settled themselves at a table on the terrace. The sun was coming up over the trees, and there was a soft bite to the air that said fall was coming. Jim found himself looking around, hands fidgeting and leg bouncing as he struggled to remember any of the roughly fifty million conversation starters he’d thought up since the night before.

Bones didn’t seem like he was about to let that go. He ran his eyes over Jim’s shifting form for just a second before he reached over to snag his hand. “You nervous, Jimmy?”

“Are you not?”

“Honestly? This is the first date I’ve been on since before Jo was born. I think my heart’s about to hop out’ve my throat.”

“Glad I’m not the only one!”

Both of them laughing finally cuts the tension and conversation flows easily. Len asked about how Jim came to own Enterprise Books at such a young age (inherited from his adopted father), Jim asked some questions about his daughter.

“Her mother got primary custody and I let Joss have the house so Jo wouldn’t have to move somewhere different. Us splitting was nasty enough even if she was only a newborn when it was all happening.”

Jim let out a low whistle. “Wow, that sounds rough. If she had primary custody, how’d the munchkin come to live here with you?”

“There was a car accident. Joss was on her way to get Jo from daycare about a year ago and a car drifted into her lane going something like double the speed limit. You got the bookstore from your adoptive dad? What happened to your birth parents?”

“Father died the day I was born, mum didn’t handle it well, and Uncle Frank’s drunk ass was the reason dad won custody without much of a fight. He was one of my father’s army buddies, I guess.”

“And where is he now?”

A slow smile crept to Jim’s lips as he leaned in. “Why? Looking to meet the parents already? Dad retired, his husband is still a doctor.”

“Oh, so you’re just taking after your dad and chasing a doctor, huh?” Apparently two can play the teasing game. Len rested his chin in his hand and ran his eyes over Jim’s form. “Granted, you’d make a perfect trophy husband, kid.”

“Depends. You still in your residency? Can’t afford much of a trophy husband if you are.”

“If I were still in my residency, do you think I’d have so much spare time to hang around the store flirting?”

That startles him a bit. Honestly, Jim hadn’t noticed. “You were flirting?”

Len nodded and took a sip of his coffee, offering up a smile to the girl who came out to refill their cups. “Thanks. And yeah, Jim, I was flirting with you. I think. I’m not great at it, apparently.”

“I’m just oblivious, I guess.”

The rest of breakfast was spent chatting about light topics of interest. Jim found himself falling hard and fast as he listened to stories about Len’s childhood in Georgia, his quick yet difficult skip through his undergrad and med school (seriously, who finishes their residency before 28?), and everything that led him here to San Francisco. In turn, Jim told him about Iowa, his rather impressive track record of runaways and misdemeanors before he even hit his teens, and how he came to live with Chris when he was just shy of 10 years old. Len leaned forward intently as Jim regaled him with the story of how Chris and Phil met.

“They didn’t waste any time, did they?” Len chuckled.

“No, they didn’t,” Jim agreed before he drew his lip between his teeth in thought. “Y’know… Neither should we. If you’re interested, I mean, my place is just down the block…”

He shifted a bit under Len’s suddenly intense gaze. Had he misread the whole situation? Maybe this really was just supposed to be them meeting up as friends and he’d assumed too much.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Jim blinked at him in surprise. “Really?”

“Lead the way, o captain, my captain.”

Tagging: @mccoymostly @thevalesofanduin @emmkolenn @thinkwritexpress-official @auduna-druitt @pinkamour1588 @southernbellestatues @thislovelymaelstrom

#why does mckirk happen to good people #mckirk #jim kirk #leonard mccoy #tia writes

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oh-beyond · 7 years

Text

The Postman AU - Part 2

Your parents tried to have children for years… They were desperate to conceive a child, almost gave up on the idea, until finally your mother got pregnant with you. Fragile child, born underweight and prematurely. You were the light of their eyes. Now you were a teenager and still treated you as if you were going to get broken. Homeschooled and trapped in your house. You didn’t need anything from the outside world.

Nothing. Until you saw the postman one day.

Postman AU/Angst/Fluff/Smut

Lay x reader

Masterlist

< Part 1 - Part 3 >

Summary: get to know the postman, and experience everything with him for the first time…

“Well? What is it? Are you like in big trouble? Tell me”

You just stood there watching him talk. The way he moved his lips as he directed words to you.

Heavenly.

“OK, you don’t want to tell me then I can’t help you” he continued.

This time he came closer, he run his fingers through his hair, and that was when you were ready to take your usual medicines for sudden fever.

He was causing it. It hurt but you didn’t want him to stop giving you that feeling of sudden temperature raising through your body.

You felt alive.

Alive like never before.

“Are you alright? Can you talk?”

Oh no you couldn’t, the ability to talk was gone, the ability to breathe was gone. But the need to touch him was still there.

“Hey! What’s wrong with you? Why are you acting so weird? You must really be in big trouble girl”

“___? ___! What are you doing here? Who is this? Get away from her! IMMEDIATELY!”

Your mom. But of course she wouldn’t give up looking for you, she came from outside right in the place where you stood, still next to the basement door.

“I am sorry samo-nim*, she didn’t do anything, it was me”

*Ma’am

Huh? What was he doing right now? Taking the blame for something blindly?

To save you?

“If you ever come near her again, I swear I will have you fired. Who are you anyways?”

“I am Zhang Yixing, the postman”

“Zhang- Yi- a foreigner of course… this country wouldn’t be going the way it is if-”

“Mother! Last time I checked you were a foreigner too, since when you have these ideas?”

“Great, now you disrespect me in front of the lower class”

“What lower class? Don’t talk like that”

But Yixing was having a breakdown of his own. He was used to be treated like that, nothing new… but you just called the lady of the house ‘mother’ he knew he would face consequences, he thought of what to do if fired.

“I am deeply sorry samo-nim. Please forgive my insolence. This will never happen again” he kneeled in front of your mother, hands on his knees “please samo-nim, I shall never do this again”

“Do what? Get up! What is wrong?” you asked disgusted of the situation, why was he even apologising?

“Mother? What did he do that he has to apologise for?”

“Is that blood I see!? There is blood in your hands ___!” exclaimed your mother now looking at Yixing pulling his chin upwards so she could direct her nasty words properly at him “fired won’t even satisfy me, what did you do to my daughter!? Answer me!?”

“I- samo-nim… nothing, she just bled”

“She just bled? Out of the blue? Listen boy, you are making this harder on yourself, let my husband hear about this and not only you will be fired he will make sure you never ever work again”

“Mom I fell! I fell and he helped me actually! You just jumped into conclusions and you are threatening him-”

“Stay away from her” she added before dragging you inside the house.

Yixing was still on his knees looking down, you looked back as your mother dragged you behind her, just in time when he lifted his head up slowly he locked eyes with you.

You expected him to be sad, mad, or at least hurt or upset. But none of that, he smiled. He smiled at you making that hole in his right cheek come to life again. Even tho he was smiling genuinely, you felt terrible. You said ‘sorry’ in silence and he understood reading your lips. He replied with a kind ‘don’t worry.’ He even waved at you as he stood up dusting his pants.

You had just met a real life angel.

You walked behind your mother, she went straight to your room, she closed the door behind you and started undressing you.

“What? What?”

“Shower! Now! Disinfect yourself, I can already see this, a week of fever and sleepless nights”

“If I get fever you don’t have to be awake, is not like it’s the first or the last time. I’m not going to die”

“Shut up! Don’t use that word ever again!”

“What word? Did I curse? You haven’t gotten used to this by now? I will shower alone, I am not a kid, stop worrying”

“You just talked to that filthy boy for a few minutes and look how you are already addressing me. You will never see him again, don’t you ever interact with that kind of people. Don’t talk to anyone, they are not clean and what if-”

“Mom! Stop! You are making me nervous, I will shower, now leave”

She kissed your forehead and patted at your shoulders before leaving the room. You couldn’t believe the whole incident, you were happy and your mother just ruined the moment.

You listened to her because you knew better. She was right, today you were exposed to too much dust, humidity, and you did scratch yourself. Precautions, because suddenly you didn’t want to be in bed sick.

For the first time you wanted to be healthy, pretty and ready for the postman’s visit.

You took that shower with your regular anti-bacterial shower gel. You had your routine when it came to personal hygiene. But for some reason as the soap residues pooled at your feet you wanted to try that roses shower cream your dad got you from Japan, the same one your mom scolded him for bringing it in the first place.

Your dad always got you the things you wanted, but apparently they were no good for you. He never got it right when it came to your mom agreeing to the presents. She always asked you to dispose of the ‘bad things’ as she called them, and the indulgent roses shower cream was one of them. What your mom didn’t know is that you had a secret hiding place in your room for all these things.

You tiptoed your way back to your room carefully wrapping a towel around you. You went into your big walk in wardrobe. Your father had put a little door that looked like a fairy door where you had all your forbidden stuff. It was full of creams and cosmetics that you weren’t allowed to use, only the hypoallergenic and unscented stuff. You grabbed the roses shower cream and off you went to try it.

As you squeezed the amazing product on the palm of your hand and the scent hit your nostrils there it was… what you long looked for ever since the water hit your warm body. What you read in your novels was so true…

You imagined Zhang Yixing, that angel you just met a few minutes ago…

You lathered yourself with the indulgent product closing your eyes, suddenly the image of his face was so clear, it was vividly felt… as if he were just there next to you… him touching your bare skin and not you.

And then you heard this weird sound that came out of your mouth that you didn’t really fully understood what it was. A satisfying moan that was 100% due to the extremely good looking postman.

You giggled and covered your mouth.

You were just like any other girl.

You really did have a crush on Yixing and you weren’t planning on letting it go.

~~~~~

“I tell you Changwook oppa, he was close to her and they were talking. That filthy postman! Do something!”

“What do you mean talking? Did he do anything to her?”

“He was- he was standing close, directing her words. And her hands had blood”

“Marie you are worrying me. Blood!?”

“Yes she fell and he helped her, so it means he touched her-“

“Marie for the love of God! I thought he did something to ___! You have to stop the way you relate to me the things that happen to our daughter, seriously!”

“But she- and he was-“

“How old is this postman?”

“Like about 22, 23. Why?”

“Is he handsome?”

“Changwook oppa! He is Chinese! And a filthy postman”

“Marie!” called your father firmly “I am going to ignore what you just said. However is very serious. Since when are you like this? I don’t recall. I am Korean, and your daughter is half Korean”

“No, that is not what I meant-“

“Stop it! I’ll go talk to her”

Your father walked very crossed at your mother, she was being a brat. She really had a rollercoaster of emotions of her own. When it was something concerning you she wasn’t coherent at all. And that is why your father let is pass, because he knew she was just worried sick as always.

When he opened the door to his bedroom you were standing there. You had heard everything, it hurt you as if your mother was attacking you on a personal level, you didn’t notice how much until your father wiped that tear that was running down your cheek.

“Honey”

“Huh?” you answered caught off guard.

“What’s with you?”

“Appa!” you buried your face on his chest.

The feeling of your father next to you was the only thing that kept you with hope. The only thing you looked forward to.

“What’s happening here?” asked your mom coming at the scene caused.

“Marie, please let us alone for a moment”

“Don’t make her more rebellious oppa”

“MARIE!”

Your mom huffed but finally left. Your father took you inside the bedroom walking towards the couch sitting next to you holding your hands.

“What hap-”

“I didn’t do anything, it’s her fault. I was with Ada in the kitchen and we were just talking and mom thought it was an inappropriate conversation and I lost it, and… he was there…”

“Who is he?”

“Appa you are sounding like her. Is not like I’m hiding a boyfriend. I wish!”

“You wish?” laughed your father.

“Appa!” you crossed your arms over your chest “it’s not funny”

“So tell me what happened”

“Nothing really, I was hiding, then I tripped on his bike and he helped me and then… appa he is so nice, and handsome, I’ve never seen anyone this nice”

“Wow, my daughter is all grown up, and knows about boys that are good looking. But hey, how do you know he is good looking, he’s the only boy you’ve seen”

“He is tho appa, better than any actor or singer or even model in magazines. His skin is smooth, and he has 2 holes in his cheeks and his eyebrows… and eyelashes”

“Easy, easy ___, slowly”

“So but can I see him? Can I appa? Please, I am here at home nothing will happen”

“___, you know I am your friend, so you need to hear my opinion”

“Sure”

“I know that this is just natural at your age, but you are also innocent and we don’t know who he is. We don’t know anything about him”

“Appa! He is the postman, I just want to talk to him. I’m not marrying him”

Oh but the sound of that was too inviting.

The following morning you got up happy, the happiest you’ve felt in a long time. You were energetic and full of life.

You washed your face and put on some nice simple polo baby blue polo dress. You brushed your hair and put a cute bow headband, you decorated your cheeks with a peachy colour blusher and some mascara, innocent yet eye-catching look. You might of been isolated from the outside world but you were an expert in makeup and a total fashionista thanks to your dad, that was your allowed hobby and your dad didn’t go cheap on you when it came to presents.

You rushed downstairs, the energy you felt, the happiness…

“___, where are you going?”

Not now…

“Hi mom, I want to see Ada”

“Don’t run”

“Alright”

You went straight into the small kitchen and the dinning area for the domestic workers, heading to the changing rooms. Ada was getting ready to clean the rooms as per usual.

“What are you doing here? Your mothe-” whispered Ada.

“Zhang Yixing. What do you know about him?”

“What? No I will get fired. I am ignoring you. And why do you looks so… nice today?”

“I will give you a box of my new make up collection dad got me. Please Ada unni. Tell me what you know”

“He is the postman, what else would I know?”

“That’s it?”

“He is Chinese”

“Wow… what a discovery. Come on unni~~~”

The back door knocked.

Hyunsung the driver went to open the door.

“I’LL GET THAT. THANK YOU HYUNSUNG AJUSSI” you exclaimed.

You cleared your throat straightening your dress before turning the door handle.

“The post- oh, good morning agassi” said a surprised Yixing to find you there.

“Hi, hi- mmm hi” you stuttered playing with your hair.

“Alright Hyunsung ajussi, didn’t you have to wash the car?” asked Ada winking at you.

“Yes that is true” Hyunsung drank the rest of his coffee in one go tapping on Yixing’s back before stepping outside.

Ada waved at you, and that is when you and Yixing were finally alone.

“Why- why is everyone leaving?”

You smiled at his worried look.

“Am I in trouble for yesterday? I apologise again, I shouldn’t had talked to you the way I did agassi”

“But don’t call me that, it sounds too distant, I’m ___. I should call you oppa”

“Oppa?”

“You are older so I should. Maybe gege, is that how you say it in Chinese?”

Yixing was thunderstruck…

“Yes gege for older brother”

“Ah no but oppa better then because is for all older males. You want me to call you oppa?”

“I- I- just came to deliver these letters. I need to go”

“Wait!” you exclaimed stopping him taking his hand in yours.

He knew you had absolutely zero experience in treating people. This was just too forward and naive.

“Agassi, please” he said taking back his hand.

“Don’t go, can you please stay for a while. Tell me how did you came here all the way from China? How old are you? Are you hungry? Do I look pretty today?”

Yixing’s eyes doubled in size. You were basically throwing yourself at him.

“Ye-yes you look pretty” he said almost whispering his eyes traveling further down to admire your dress and lanky legs.

“Really? Really really really oppa?” you asked again taking his hand jumping up and down.

He smiled overwhelmed, it was cute.

You then stopped jumping and started panting, you took long breaths and your eyes fluttered before your body started to give you signs of extreme tiredness. He held you from your waist, fanning your face.

“Agassi! Agassi! Are you alright?”

You opened your eyes and at the proximity of his face your felt it again. That inner tremble and the funny feeling in your stomach.

“You are just too hot oopa, I melted”

Yixing laughed smiling shyly. His face holes showing again.

“These holes are amazing” you innocently said placing your fingers over them.

“Agassi, I-”

“What are these?”

“Dimples, they are called dimples. But if samo-nim sees us like this, she won’t be happy” he added straightening you to stand “I’ll better go”

“Will you come tomorrow?”

“If there is mail, I will”

“And if there isn’t?”

“Then I won’t”

“Can’t you just come?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to see you”

“Agassi!”

“I’m ___, call me by my name”

“I can’t”

“Please”

Yixing nodded his head opening the door.

“Come tomorrow… please…. please please please, oppa~~~”

“Alright”

And that is how everyday you waited for Yixing for the past 4 days. He didn’t talk much but you loved how he didn’t miss a day.

“See you next week, there’s no mail on weekends”

“Tomorrow my mom will be going to town early”

“Oh so you are going with her”

“Pfff, I never got out of the house”

He stood quiet for a moment trying to understand “so I will see you next week?”

“I will be home alone oppa” you repeated.

Yixing gulped.

“Take me on your bike somewhere”

“Oh! No I can’t do that”

“Pretty please~~~ please”

“Agassi don’t- it could be bad for you, you don’t go out for a reason”

“Don’t call me that, ___, I’m ___, and you will take care of me, unless you don’t want”

“I want, but I am afraid for you”

You came closer whining like a spoiled little girl.

“Alright stop, don’t do that” he said shyly avoiding your gaze.

It was affecting him more than what he wanted to admit to himself.

“Thank you” you said going on your tiptoes, your face coming forward.

“What- wait-” he exclaimed before feeling your lips landing on his cheek “___!”

“What? I wanted to do that, these dimples are so irresistible”

His hand was feeling the place where you left your kiss, he blushed uncontrollably. Your calmness was yet to be explained, because it was unnatural that you were so chill about this whole situation, while Yixing was the one looking like a 5 year old kidnapped child.

“I like you oppa, a lot”

“What time tomorrow?” he asked bravely.

“She will be out at 10, and she is never back before 2″

“Dress warmly. See you tomorrow” he moved to leave.

“Oppa!”

He turned to face you again.

“I am going to kiss you everyday from now on”

Yixing didn’t argue and closed his eyes tightly, he then felt another kiss in his other cheek, slower this time, your lips didn’t move form his cheek for longer, your lips feeling more cushiony. The kiss was more meticulously given.

“___” he whispered “see you tomorrow, now please let me go” he added opening his eyes.

He knew he had to go, because it was getting difficult to move his legs forward. He indeed didn’t move after he begged almost to leave, he just scanned your face, he saw them little freckles you had on your cheeks, and without really thinking he moved your fringe to one side exposing your forehead. He leaned and kissed you there.

After that, he finally turned nervously and left.

You almost swooned, but the feeling gave you strength, looking forward for tomorrow.

~~~~~

“I’m going ___, Ada will be here if you need anything, you look a bit pale today don’t tire yourself, study in bed. I’ll just go buy some things, your father will be home tonight from Nagoya”

“Alright mom just go, I’m sleepy”

She left and asked Ada to keep you company. As soon as Ada entered you jumped out of bed.

“Make up Ada unni, loads, and a dress”

“But ___, you are riding on a bike, I think some jeans would be more appropriate”

“Mmmm, OK, help me choose”

You went into your walk in wardrobe and chose a cropped pink top and Ada chose a pair of grey skinny jeans and a cardigan.

You put them on and Ada brushed your hair into a high ponytail, following with a fuchsia lipstick and eyeshadow.

For the first time in your life you were putting extra effort in your appearance.

“I think he is here ___”

You rushed downstairs and opened the backdoor, he was leaning on his bike, wearing a beanie and a scarf almost as if hiding, his leg bouncing looking at his watch nervously. He looked at the door and saw you waving, he smiled to himself walking towards you.

“Good morning oppa!”

“Wow you look… too much”

“You don’t like it?” you asked disappointed.

“No no in the contrary… but where I’m taking you… it’s not-”

You looked through your bag and got out a pack of wipes “alright, how much is OK?” you asked giving him a wipe.

He took it and placed his hand on your shoulder bringing you close, he bit his tongue in concentration as he he wiped your lips slowly, carefully watching them bounce under his touch. He got extremely distracted. Suddenly his throat felt dry and he swallowed making you smile.

“What?”

“Nothing oppa, keep going”

“Close your eyes”

You did, and he carefully wiped the eyeshadow, finding himself wanting to feel your eyelashes too.

“You don’t need all this. You are naturally cute”

He didn’t realise that it came out loud, you opened your eyes holding onto his wrist.

“Thanks oppa, you are more beautiful tho”

“Alright we must go, now do a lower ponytail please”

You listened without argument, you took off the hair elastic as he watched you intensely redo the ponytail.

It was hypnotising him.

“Done!”

“Huh… yes”

He took off his beanie and put it in your head, he followed by wrapping his scarf around your neck. Finally taking your cardigan and placing it on your shoulders.

“I can’t believe I am doing this” he said looking at your face again.

You scrunched your nose feeling the warmth of his scarf “it smells so good”

You made him blush every time you spoke.

“Now put on your cardigan properly and close it, your-” he pointed down at your navel that was clearly showing.

You giggled and nodded.

“Ready!”

“Let’s go”

He sat on his bike motioning for you to sit in the rear back seat he had gotten the day before for you. You sat and held onto his shirt.

“Hold on tight” he announced before starting to pedal.

Your arms found their way and encircled tightly around his waist, he looked down watching your hands on his abdomen. He welcomed the feeling and smiled.

It was magical, everything… the surroundings of your own house that you’ve never seen this close. Yixing was making this possible for you.

Your father’s sheep around the field, the birds, the trees, the smell of real oxygen.

“Are you alright?”

“I am perfect. This is unreal, I’m so happy”

“This is your land, wait until I take you somewhere even better”

You looked behind and your house looked tiny in the horizon. Your head leaned on Yixing’s back extremely happy not wanting this ever to end. This was by far the best day of your life.

Yixing was also very happy knowing that he was the one that was providing you with your first experience outside the house.

Your first experience of everything really.

He felt privileged.

The landscape started to change and it almost felt like he was riding through a forest, suddenly a lake appearing before you. The sunbeams hitting the surface making it shine taking your breath away.

He stopped getting off, taking your hand leaving the bike next to a tree.

“You like it?”

“It’s- it’s amazing” you stated your mouth opening widely.

“Want to get closer?”

“Can we?”

“Sure! My friends and I come and swim here all the time”

“You have friends? I’d love to meet them”

“Ah no… these are guy friends, they’ll eat you up alive”

“Eat me?”

“Yeah you are too cute, and some of them are too flirty, I don’t want them to...”

You giggled covering your mouth.

He bent to get some pebbles “watch”

He started showing you his skills in stone skipping, you were so excited making him very confident, flashing you a smile every time he succeeded.

Your face stated to get really warm, you took off the beanie and the scarf going under the shadow of the tree.

“I think you overworked yourself today, I’m sorry ___, maybe we should head back?”

“No I’m loving this, just a little longer”

“Alright then let’s sit for a bit”

You sat under the tree leaning your back shoulder to shoulder, he sighed and looked at you, your cheeks too crimson for his liking.

“So I understand you suffer from a condition?”

“Can we not talk talk about it today?”

“I apologise. I shouldn’t-”

“No that’s not what I meant, I just prefer to talk about something nice. Not my condition today. Please”

“Alright” he smiled, his dimples coming to life again.

“Tell me what brings you here. What’s your story?”

“I was born in Changsha, the state of Hunan. I am an only child. I came here because I got a scholarship in medical school, I was the first in all Hunan, and I was accepted in Seoul University, but then my mother couldn’t keep sewing she had to stop because her sight. I had to send money so I dropped in my second year”

“I am sorry about your mother” you patted his shoulder “but you were going to be a doctor!?”

“Yeah but that is long forgotten. This job pays for my mother’s expenses and I am happy with that”

“How old are you?”

“I am 22″

“And you are?”

“I am- well but don’t freak out”

“What? Are you underage?”

“In a few months I’ll be 18″

“How many are a few?”

“Nine months?”

“No way! This is wrong! I’ll be accused of kidnap of a child”

“Yeah you are totally right. Let’s head back, but I saw this one pebble I’d like to take with me to remind me of this day. Please~~~”

“Alright, where?”

He got up helping you stand, you took off your shoes and cardigan and walked behind him.

“I think you need to take off you shoes, it’s right there at the edge”

He took his shoes off following your finger that pointed inside the water where it clearly looked deeper “where?” he asked.

“Right… THERE!” you exclaimed before pushing him, making him fall bottom down.

He got up turning to face you and before he could even react you jumped on him.

“I don’t want to go home yet” you stated encircling his neck.

“Well… now that we are wet, I guess we could take advantage of the unforeseen circumstances.”

__________________________

A/N: Thanks for reading, feedback always welcomed ^_^

149 notes · View notes

terselylove · 5 years

Text

50 Ways To Be A Better Boyfriend

1. I may hang out with your friends like one of the guys or play video games like one of the guys, but I am not one of the guys. I am your girlfriend. Give me attention outside of hanging with your friends, do things with me other than what you like to do with your friends, and spend quality time with me away from your friends. Not as a special treat, not as a holiday surprise, but as a normal part of our relationship.

2. If she’s complaining, or venting, it’s not always because she wants advice or a solution. Sometimes all that’s needed is to vent. So, in those situations, just let her vent.

3. Do not forget to tell your girlfriend she’s beautiful. I feel like so many guys forget to do this. Specially after they’ve been with a girl for a while. Girls love to be reminded that you’re still attracted to them. It goes a long way and it’ll always make her happy.

4. Plan out unique dates! Don’t leave it all up to her. And offer back rubs without wanting anything in return.

5. Know where the clitoris is, and how your partner likes hers to be simulated. Remember that MOST women do not get off through vaginal penetration.

6. Explain how you feel. We want to know what you’re feeling.

7. A “how are you?” text and a “thinking about you!” text etc goes a long way!

8. Hugs and affection with no ulterior motive. Sometimes I like to be held with out feeling like he’s wanting to fuck me.

9. Learn to cook. Not just one very slow to prepare meal. Learn to cook decent meals that can be prepared “normally” during a weekday. Learn to cook without making the kitchen look like a war zone.

10. Do your share of household chores. Don’t ask or expect a medal for doing household chores once or twice. It is a routine. Just own the task and keep doing it. Remember that since you are doing something it is easy for you to remember you did it and that this makes you overestimate the amount of chores you are being responsible for.

11. You guys should be a team, not just you. This helps in arguments. Remind yourself you are a team and that you shouldn’t bring your own teammate down.

12. Pay attention to what she says and remember the little things.

13. GENUINE COMPLIMENTS theres been so many times I get especially dressed up thinking “my boyfriend is going to think I look nice!” and then I see him and he doesn’t compliment me! Even when I know I look good because other guys hit on me, it would be nice if my boyfriend could hit on me for once.

14. Just keep your girl up to date on things if you’re having a busy day. It keeps them less worried and making sure you are safe.

15. When I ask you what do you want me to cook for dinner, please don’t say “I don’t know!” Sometimes men can be as bad as women are portrayed when deciding what to eat!

16. Pay attention when she is talking. Active listening. Don’t be on your phone when out to dinner. Communication. Honesty. And yes pay attention to the little things. Do what you say your going to do. Share your interests. Be authentic.

17. Biggest thing for me is to just do what you say you’re going to do. Nothing more, nothing less.

18. Be honest about how you feel about literally everything instead of allowing small things to build up resentment in your heart and then break up over something small. Like just be honest if something she does like a quirk bothers you, communicate what you like and don’t like so she can have the chance to at least compromise or adjust. And then if she doesn’t care for your feelings you can break up. Way too often men don’t communicate and expect us to read their minds, then say they fell out of love over some petty crap.

19. Think for yourselves. Don’t relay on your partner to carry the mental load. Wash basket GETTING full? Do some washing then get it dry and then put it away. Your partner shouldn’t be directing you to do everyday chores. You should see it needs doing and do it. You shouldn’t have to ask if your partner needs help with the cleaning, you should be doing it together. It’s called being a team.

This works both ways obviously.

20. Don’t compliment them by saying things like ‘you look so much better in that dress that other girl ever would’ – compliment them without making them feel like they are being constantly compared (even if they do come out on top).

21. Remember that women like to orgasm too!

22. Learn their love language, I would say. What makes them feel most appreciated or most loved? Not every girl wants the same thing (as is evident in this thread) but it comes down to one of the big 5. Words of affirmation, physical touch, gift giving, acts of service/devotion, or quality time.

23. Don’t make her feel like your mom.

A lot of guys I know say something to the effect of, “If you just ask I’ll do the dishes/put laundry away, etc.”

Well we don’t want to be your mom and make you do these things. Rather when you notice something needs to be done, do it. Trust me, we will notice!

24. If she asks you to stop doing something or do something more, LISTEN. Even if you don’t agree, compromise on something you both can work with.

25. Honestly, get excitable. Nothing kills a conversation like when a man tries to look cool and not geek out when they want to. Seeing a dude get excited over their interests is adorable

26. Affirm your affection for them by saying nice things, or qualities you like about them. “You’re so….” “I love that you do that.” Anything that shows your reassurance that they are the best.

27. If you’re getting irritated with us, please calmly explain why. Or if we are trying to bring up what’s bothering us, please don’t get defensive and then flip the blame on us. Otherwise, it makes us feel like we’re just a nuisance to you. I get that communication is a learned skill that requires experience. In short- encouraging & practicing open, honest, and respectful communication on both sides.

28. Don’t lie or hide things from her. She knows, she always knows because she knows you so well she can tell when you are being shifty. Just be open and honest and vulnerable. She will love you the more for it.

29. When you’re in the store, don’t call and ask what to bring. Hopefully you have paid attention and know what she likes/what the household needs and just bring that. Or google a recipe and buy the ingredients. Maybe shoot a text and say “I think I’ve got it covered, but here’s your chance for requests, I’m in the store”. Be pro-active, don’t force her into supervisor mode constantly.

30. The #1 thing all successful healthy relationships need is mutual respect. Do some research on what it’s like to live in society as a woman and make sure you’re not contributing to how hard it can be.

31. Don’t mention exes.

32. Date someone you’re happy with and don’t have to make “better.” If you need something, communicate what you need. If someone is doing something that bothers you, let them know in a kind way and include a solution that could work for both of you. If you want something done by the other person, let them know your time frame up front. For example, can you please do the dishes before I get home from work today, I want to have an empty sink when I cook dinner tonight. Not just do the dishes.

33. Don’t laugh when I’m frustrated no matter how “cute” it is.

34. Cut your goddamn nails my dudes you don’t need mountain peaks at the tips of your fingers.

35. I’m a big believer in equity theory. Do as much for her as she does for you! If you don’t she’ll end up feeling unappreciated, unassured, and questioning why she’s with someone who doesn’t put in the same as she does. Even recognition, a thank you, and some flowers goes a long way. But it’s still important to show how much you care about her in your actions.

36. My husband sends me little gifs online when he sees one that he thinks I’d like. It always makes me smile because he was thinking about me enough to find something I’d smile at and send it.

37. We don’t always need you fixing solutions, sometimes we want to be heard and vent.

38. Don’t put women in a box. Men tend to compartmentalize things and have figurative boxes in their heads in which they keep all the things in their life. That’s great, but not for relationships. You can’t take your significant other out of that box and play with them only when you want to. You always need to be there for your gf and sometimes that means making time when you weren’t expecting her to need you.

39. Don’t tell her what to do, she is her own person. Don’t try to control her. Be supportive of her dreams and aspirations (even if you don’t necessarily agree with them).

40. This could go either way, but reciprocate everything. Don’t do anything you wouldn’t want your S.O doing.

41. Randomly say “I love you”. No context, no nothing, just say it.

42. Take her seriously when she talks about her health. And if she needs to go to a hospital and allows you to come along, be prepared to advocate for her.

43. My grandpa thanked my grandma for the delicious meal after every. Single. Meal. that she cooked for him.

Don’t get so used to your partner that you stop noticing and showing gratitude for the lovely things they do for you.

44. If a woman is in a bad mood – NEVER – I repeat – NEEEEEEVER ask if she’s got her period!

45. Stop caring about your looks and just try to be more hygienic. For real you people care too much about how you look and you smell awful.

46. Don’t fucking cheat.

47. Affirmations and validation work well.

48. Communicate instead of yelling. I have made a pact with myself to never be with a person ever again who doesn’t make an effort to communicate with me. It’s paid off immensely and I’m super happy with a wonderful man now who I never argue with, when all my previous relationships were torrentially toxic and abusive. I’m not saying not arguing ever is normal, but it definitely isn’t normal when people yell and cuss as a communicative norm.

49. Just take a moment to reflect on what conversations you’re having and what you’re bringing to them. I know there’s this idea that your partner is the person you can vent to but is that all you’re doing? Try to be mindful that your partner also has difficult times; are you as available to listen to them as they are for you? Do all (or even most) of your conversations turn into a back and forth of complaints about work/traffic/etc.? Are those complaints really worth the time you’re dedicating to them?

I recently suggested to my boyfriend that, hey, let’s make the bed a no-complaining zone. I brought it up because every single night I would find myself just laying in the dark rolling my eyes as he went on and on about the same issues with the same coworkers every single night. Even nights when he didn’t work would end up this way.

Now we have a rule of “if this is really something that you want to talk about right this moment, we’ll go sit on the sofa and talk.” It gives you a moment to just consider if it’s really that big of an issue or not. What he’s found is that usually it’s not worth it, and I’ve seen a positive change in him. He seems happier now that he’s not dwelling on small stuff.

50. Surprise her sometimes by remembering something you shared and calling back to it.

0 notes

thekrazykeke · 7 years

Text

Run, Devil, Run

Fandom(s): DCEU, Suicide Squad

Summary: Things done in the dark eventually come to the light.

Warning(s): Familial disputes. Implied, ambiguous relationships. Toxic behavior. Violence. Smut.

Tagging: @ask-harleen @meaningful-kisses-are-deadly @metal-mouth-breather

Now, this weird thing is a sum of everything going on in the fandom’s world right now...for the most part. K pretty much stays clear of trouble and is sort of the unofficial, official ‘good girl’ that occasionally hangs around villains to get inspiration for her books when she’s in a rut.

This will have a second part.

Humming to herself, shoes and a bottle of that expensive liquor from Selina’s bar in her hand, K dug through her purse for her house keys. Or so she tried, but then she squinted, looking more carefully at the door, and noticed that it was already open. Alarm bells ringing through her head, she knew it was better to just walk away, maybe stay in a hotel for a few days, but against better judgement, just like those silly twits in movies, she pressed a hand against the flat surface, easing the door open wider, gripping the bottle in her other hand as she tip toed inside.

“And just like that, you’re dead.” The entire apartment was shrouded in darkness, but there was no mistaking the figure of a lean male seated comfortably on a couch. He had a gun pointed straight at her but she didn’t even blink. Flicking on a light switch and the room was illuminated.

“Put that thing away.” Tossing the masquerade mask onto a counter, she shook her head as the gun didn’t lower. “I said, put it away.”

Snorting with contempt and amusement, the copper skinned man lowered the gun, flicking the safety back on. “I’ve….always hated that you never took me seriously.”

“I take you very seriously, Robbie. But you ain’t hard enough to shoot your big sister in cold blood and you’ve got a hiccup about shooting people from their blind spot, which is also stupid by the way.” Placing the bottle in the fridge, carelessly, she tossed the shoes on the carpeted floor. “When did you get out?”

“January.”

“And, what, nobody called me? Told me? I would have been there–” Displeased, she huffed and began pacing.

He cut it off before she could go on an endless rant. “I asked them not to. You’ve got a new life here in Gotham, clean slate. No ties to us, the past or your family, just your books and your dreams. That’s what you always wanted, sis.”

“Then what…? What are you doin’ here now?” Suspicious, she looked at him. Took in the way his hazel eyes couldn’t meet hers. Crossing her arms, K sternly, “Robert Kenshawn, what have you done now?”

“I need your help on a job. It’s a big one. Gonna have me set for life.” Shaking her head, she looked at the ceiling, as if asking for patience. “Please, sis. Nobody in the family as good with computers like you. I just need–”

“Stop talking. I told all of y’all that I was done with that. Done! You’re not getting me involved again.” Jabbing her finger at the door, she gestured for him to get up. “You got to go. Get gone. Now.”

He hit the dining room table, anger causing his body to tremble. “I kept your secret! I went to prison and you’re going to listen to me! Help. Me. Now!” Again and again, Robert struck the table.

“Stop damaging my property!”

“NO!”

“Fine! I’m calling the psych ward on your crazy ass!” Tearing across the room, she was about to pick up the cordless phone when he ripped the plug out of the phone jack. “You fucking nut! Get out of my apartment!” Chucking the phone at his face.

Robert smacked the thrown projectile onto the floor, grabbing her by the arm, shaking the appendage harshly and K retaliated by slamming the palm of her hand into his face multiple times. He shoved her, hard. Windmilling her arms, she tried to keep her balance but fell and hit her head on the table. “DON’T CALL ME A PSYCHO. YOU ARE THE CRAZY ONE HERE. YOU ARE YOU ARE YOU ARE YOU ARE YOU ARE!” Head aching, she sat up and gingerly prodded her fingers where it hurt the most, only to come away with blood splattered fingertips. “I’ma beat your ass.”

“Now, sis, I didn’t mean...” Contrite, Robert lowered his voice and his shoulders hunched. “Where’s your first aid kit?”

“I don’t need you to do a goddamn thing for me but get the fuck out of my apartment.” Still he lingered so she snatched the glass ash tray, flinging it in his direction. “LEAVE, MOTHAFUCKA, GO!” Only when the sound of her front door being slammed shut echoed throughout the empty apartment, signifying that she was alone, did K begin to chuckle, softly at first but quickly getting louder and more hysteric, tapering off into sobs that she tried to stifle.

Eventually she got up from her fallen position, shimmying out of that ridiculous dress, sluggishly walking into her bedroom and falling onto the mattress, only clad in bra and panties. The last thought K had before passing out was that maybe if she died, she’d finally get some peace. The next time she woke up, her head was still pounding in a slow, steady thrum, her face felt sore from crying and her whole body just ached. Stumbling out of bed, Keke walked into the attached bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet and retrieving some Tylenol.

Shaking two of the white tablets into her golden brown palm before tossing them into her mouth, she ran some water from the bathroom’s faucet, leaning down, she slurped at the cool water greedily, swallowing the medicine. Using a fist, she scrubbed the sleep from her eyes, staring at herself in the mirror.

“It’s going to be a good day today. You are going to be productive and write.”

Pep talk concluded, she turned off the tap. Drying her hands with a towel before hanging it back up on the rack to dry. Walking out of the bathroom, she returned to the bedroom, opening the door of her closet, grabbing some new underwear and comfortable clothes to lounge around in, once she had those items, she went back into the bathroom and went about her normal hygienic routine.

Hours passed on her laptop, listening to music on her Spotify account and just letting the words flow. The events of yesterday didn’t even cross her mind. Like most things she just didn’t want to deal with, she wrote it off as unimportant and went about her life as if it didn’t matter. The sound of her stomach gurgling caused K to remove her headphones and she grabbed her cellphone off the charger, dialing the number of the local Chinese restaurant that delivered to the apartment complex. As she listened to the busy signal, nibbling on her fingernail, impatient, the sound of her doorbell being insistently rang irritated her. Pressing the ‘DECLINE’ button, she hung up and tossed the cellular device onto the bed, walking out to the living room.

The person was knocking now.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’! Je...” Swinging the door open, K’s irritated expression became blank with shock as she stared at the sharply dressed individual nonchalantly standing in her door frame. “What the hell are you doin’ here, Carver?” Raising a finger to silence him before he could speak, K shook her head. “On second thought, I don’t give a damn why you’re here. Nothing good can come of it. You need to leave.”

“That’s cold, girl.” Cheekily, he smiled. “But then again, I love it when you got an attitude.”

Giving him an ‘Are you fucking serious?’ look, K said, “Did you not hear me? I said you need to go.” Then she tried to shut her door but he stuck his foot inside, placing his hand against the flat surface, keeping it open. “Get off my door.”

“Not until you listen to what I have to say.” He was stubborn.

“Listen, mothaf--”

“Do you really want all these boujie neighbors in your business? Hmm, no?” Carver smiled, devious and having little trouble with slowly, steadily opening the door wider. “Then let me in. Right now.”

Abruptly letting the door go, she got a little thrill with how he nearly tripped and face planted into her front door. “You got three minutes. Make it count.”

Carver quietly but firmly closed the front door, locking it. “Putting me on a timer? Classic, K.”

“Starting now. Two minutes and fifty seconds left. If what you say does not interest me, I call the police, maybe get you charged with breaking and entering, hell, I’m feeling daring, let’s try to tack harassment on there too.” Crossing her arms across her chest, K stared him down.

Understanding that she wasn’t joking, Carver began to speak. “Rob told me that he tried to talk to you, get you interested in our latest job but you...What’s so funny?”

“I just find the definition of ‘talk’ for the both of you is so twisted and misconstrued, that’s all.” Far too amused, K let out a derisive snort. “I’ll save you the trouble of saying a long, drawn out speech. My answer’s ‘No’. It will always be ‘No’. I have no interest in getting involved in anything illegal.”

“You stand here like you’re so much better than me, than us, when the truth is that your hands are just as dirty as ours.” Carver gave her a once over and shook his head. Strangely enough, K almost felt inferior before his gaze. “Last I checked, before you got too good for ‘anything illegal’, you were clearing out jewelry and liquor stores with your older brothers and sisters, then y’all moved up to small businesses and banks. I mean, damn. You, you guys were good at what you did.”

“Okay, Carver. Shut up, you’ve made your point.”

“Did I? Did I make my point, K?” He was on a roll now and wasn’t keen on stopping. “Yes, the way Rob handled you was wrong and disrespectful, but you know how he gets when you work him up like that. He did half a decade in prison, for a crime you committed. That has got to leave the guy more fucked up in the head than he was before he went in there.”

“Stop talking.”

“The cops have wrote it off as an accident with the electrical wiring of the Taylor residence but the truth of it is, there wasn’t any accident, was there, hmm, K? Just you and your itty bitty feelings getting hurt...”

“Carver, I’m warning you...” Breath picking up, K tried to keep a lid on her temper. The lights and electric appliances flickered on and off ominously.

“...Because you couldn’t handle the thought of being the ‘mistress’ to Michael anymore and totally lost your chill. His poor daughter and wife didn’t even stand a chance in hell of escaping before you fried them.” Carver finished his words, relishing them.

K let out a wordless, infuriated scream.

All the power in the room, no, in the entire building went out. Then in a shower of glass and molten metal, several light bulbs burst, electric sockets buzzed and ultimately fried themselves. Both hands sparking with white-blue wisps of heat, brown eyes almost golden with power, she looked like a goddess made flesh.

Still, Carver did not kneel.

No. He picked up the nearest chair and chucked it full force at her, giving on the slightest wince as it hit her. All that power winked out of her body as she fell to the ground like a puppet with it’s strings cut.

“And you called Rob a ‘fucking nut’? You really need to look in the mirror, honey.” He spoke aloud, glancing down at her unconscious body. Grabbing her underneath her armpits, he hauled her up in a fireman’s carry, bringing her over to the couch and sitting her down. “The things I do for you and you’re still so ungrateful. But that’s okay. I’ll let it slide...” Carver leaned down, tenderly kissing her lips.

“You’re mine and I’m with your batshit crazy ass for the long haul, babe.”

#misc fics #fanfiction

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her-culture · 7 years

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Yes, My Hair Is My Culture

Imagine being told your entire life that your hair was something that you should be ashamed of. Then suddenly in your 20s, it was acceptable, because some random celebrity who was was not apart of your culture started wearing hairstyles to mimic the hair your were naturally born with. That is what it is like growing up as a black woman in America. What many Americans do not seem to understand, especially White Americans, is that they have the privilege to wear their hair in any style they want to, without it hindering how they are perceived by others. It is the complete opposite for black women. Your hair dictates your life. Black hair is constantly targeted as something that is “inappropriate” and “unprofessional”. From day one, black women are told and shown that their hair is something that they should hide and be ashamed of, and then when they find ways to make it “more acceptable”–such as wearing wigs, weaves, box braids, etc.–they are still faced with negativity in the form of comments like “ghetto” and “ratchet”.

We live in a very frustrating society in when it comes to culture. America is a melting pot made up of people from all kinds of backgrounds and cultures. It is what makes us such a unique country. However, this in a way is a double edged sword when it comes to pop culture. There is a fine line between appropriation and appreciation that has been created in American media and society. Many may try to turn a blind eye to it and claim that cultural appropriation is “not a thing” but it very much is so. One of the most common instances of cultural appropriation found in American media is the hairstyles of black women. Now I know what some of you are probably thinking. “You can’t claim a hairstyle as a culture”. But the thing is, we can. Let me explain.

The most hated kind of hair type in America is that of a black women. The most derogatory kinds of hairstyles in America are those that are associated with black women. And yet, both of these things are two of the most uncredited “inspirations” in American pop culture. Now, I personally believe this is due to the fact that our hair holds a part of history that is consistently swept under a rug because, like most minorities in America, it has a harsh past that White America wants us to forget. Thus, the hairstyle will be put on the whitest model they can find, renamed, and labeled the “new hottest trend” leading to unintentional backhand comments like “I love your hair! It’s so (insert non-black celebrity name)-esque.” The best example of this would be the Vogue article¹ about how Lupita Nyong’o’s hairstyle for last year’s Met Gala was inspired by Audrey Hepburn when actually is was inspired by that of the hairstyles of various African tribes and Nina Simone². This is a common practice, especially in the fashion world.

For decades now, black women have been routinely told to hide their natural hair. Natural black hair is very unique and unlike any in the world. Not only does it grow naturally curly, it also grows coarsely and upward. Some black people will have more coarse hair than others, some will have more curly.Basically, our hair does not grow straight down and silky like the ideal American standard of beauty. (Keyword: ‘silky’; because, contrary to popular belief, black hair is actually very soft.) To comply with American standards, black women would straighten their hair by any means necessary. For some, something as simple as a straightener would be enough. For others, more drastic and damaging chemical methods were needed. Both methods are harmful and both were meant to hide the natural state of our hair.

For black women, our natural state of hair is an afro, but according to Allure Magazine in 2015, the afro is a “ballsy” style. The significance of the afro dates back to the Civil Rights Movement where the birth of another movement occurred for black culture. Around the 1960’s, Africans began to (willingly) immigrate to America more frequently. With this exposure to African people, American-born black people were finally seeing firsthand the beauty that was their hair. Thus, the first wave of the Natural hair movement was born. Women stopped straightening their hair and started wearing their natural afros. It was a statement of growing comfortable with the hair they were in and as a means of trying to remain connected to the roots that were taken from them. The afro had become so powerful that at one point, women began hiding their afros in public to avoid arrest, as it was seen as a form of protest.¹ Despite it's significance, none of this information was even mentioned when Allure published their article. Sure, the author said it was a “confident style” which, in America, it is; even today, black women wearing afros are considered bold. Imagine that. Being considered bold and confident simply for wearing your hair how it looks naturally. And instead of using a model that, you know, is black and does not have to go through extreme lengths to rock an Afro, they used the article to show white girls how they can be apart of the fun too.

Another black hairstyle that is constantly appropriated is, dreadlocks (better knowns as “locs” amongst black people). Yes, dreadlocks are black culture. I do not care if you are a Bob Marley fan, saw Kylie Jenner do it, or witnessed it during Marc Jacobs’ show for Fashion Week last year. If you are not black and you are wearing dreadlocks, you are appropriating black culture.

Let us start with where the word “dreadlock” comes from. Remember slavery and how the slaves actually got from Africa to America? Let me refresh your memory a little bit: Africans were stored in a boat like sardines with little to no movement and no form of hygiene. Because of that, their hair would grow and knot up. The knots would lock up the hair, making it virtually impossible to run through. The word “dreadlock” was formed because it was a style that originated from a dreadful time in black history.

Let us jump to today with the double standard when it comes to locs being worn by black people. Firstly, black people with locs are automatically assumed to be dirty. This is because of the kind of regimen to maintain them. When black people make the decision to loc their hair, they only need to wash their hair once a month. This is because you need to give the hair time to grow and actually loc together. This, however, does not mean black people with locs have dirty hair. Black people in general do not need to wash their hair that often for it to be clean. Most black people do it once or twice a week or even once every two weeks. Frequent washing can actually damage our hair and dry it out. Our hair produces natural oils that protect it.

Now here is where the double standard comes in: when white people are seen with locs they are not automatically perceived as dirty. They will usually “attractive”, “chill”, “artistic”, “alternative”, or even “goth” for some. In actuality, their hair is significantly dirtier compared to that of a black person with locs. In fact, when you first get locs you are not supposed to touch your hair for the first month more or so, so that the hair can lock. But the difference is black people can go a lot longer without washing their hair than others without it being damaging or even dirty for that matter. Even Zendaya got hate for her locs in the media and they were not even real.

But because she is a black girl, she was ridiculed for probably smelling like weed. Meanwhile, you had Kylie Jenner, Lady Gaga, and Miley Cyrus who all wore faux locs at some point, and were considered “edgy”. Are you noticing a pattern yet? Because I definitely am.

Now there are several accounts of protective styles being appropriated over the years. If you do not know what that is, you have definitely seen these styles on a some random white girl, under a “new name” or considered a “hairspiration”. A protective style is a hairstyle which black people will wear in order to protect their hair. Right now, we are in the second wave of the Natural Hair Movement so many black women are using protective styles to promote natural hair growth. Prior to that, however, most black women would wear these styles as a means of conforming so that they would be taken more seriously not only in their professional lives, but in their daily lives as well. Unfortunately, even with that intent, protective styles are consistently appropriated, and when they are not, black women seen wearing them are easily associated as being “ghetto”.

Protective styles can be with or without hair extensions. Cornrows, two strand twists, and bantu knots are a few examples of protective styles that can be done with and without extensions. Weaves, box braids, marley twists, and goddess braids are the more commonly known styles are the ones that do use hair extensions. All of these styles are great ways which black women use to promote the growth of their hair. Like I mentioned earlier, black hair grows naturally curly. This means black hair also grows slower, especially when it is constantly touched and manipulated. The beauty of protective styles is that it allows black women to grow their hair faster and healthy whilst still looking “presentable” to the rest of the world.

Many non-black celebrities will wear these styles, and pop culture outlets will claim that they are something brand new and will not credit where the styles actually come from. Bantu knots become “mini buns”, goddess braids and cornrows become “boxer braids”, and Senegalese twists will finally be shown on a fashion magazine but only on the whitest girl they can find. What this turns into is black women being accused of finding the inspiration to do styles by non-black celebrities, when it’s really the other way around. But no, we do not know what we are talking about, right?

I think what white America really needs to start understanding is this: when it comes to hair, they have the privilege and the freedom not to be bound by their hair. They need to become aware and accepting that black hair is black culture. They should not deem these hairstyles unacceptable because it is something they literally cannot achieve and should not make them acceptable just because they are under a new name on a white face. The fact that even our military has created standards for black women’s hair (in that they banned protective hairstyles and specifically used mainly black women as visual examples of unacceptable hairstyles) should really put things into perspective.²

It is 2017 you guys. My hair is beautiful. My hair is appropriate. My hair is my culture.

Sources:

¹http://blackgirllonghair.com/2015/01/the-natural-hair-movement-in-the-60s-and-70s-how-it-began-and-why-it-ended/

²http://time.com/3107647/military-black-hairstyles/

#e'lon grant #black culture #hair #dreadlocks #afro

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mustinvestigate · 7 years

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stream of consciousness headcanon…ish…thing…

...which owes entire countries’ national debts to @niceteeth-nastysmile‘s health & food canon post and @adistraughtthought‘s on MacCready’s teeth and why Lucy was just beyond brilliant.

And this is all fic-related ponderings of general standards of personal upkeep in post-apocalyptia and their divergence from vault or pre-war sensibilities and how exactly romance could surmount this, which doesn’t really earn “above the fold” status, so…

So it’s generally held in fandom lore that folk are too busy surviving to truck much with hygiene, a thought which derails the sexiness of many T+ fics before they start. Like, “We’ve been trekking across the desert nurturing a deadly two-person epidemic of UST and, oops, convenient cave-in, we’re trapped together…carrying several days’ worth of sweat and battle muck in non-breathable armor we seemingly never change, without water to drink or freshen up with, and, y’know, let’s just sit in opposite cave chambers and breathe through our mouths until rescue comes, ok?”

And a vault dweller or pre-war person would live in suspended state of horror at the miasma of human funk and yellowed snaggleteeth when they have any at all, unable to hold a civil conversation no matter how high their charisma stat. As for romancing, well…nope. Nope nope nope.

Except, in settlements at least, with more pooled resources and storage space and security to allow people to spend time on less essential tasks like making tallow soap and extra under-clothing to change regularly and water to wash clothing and bodies, they’d totally raise standards to at least those of a modern week-long camping trip, right? Being clean and in fresh clothing is one of those small achievable luxuries, on the level of toys and games or cards for communal entertainment, that makes a huuuuge difference in feeling like you’re living, not just surviving. And with teeth, well, humans have been cleaning their teeth (albeit sometimes in ways that could not have been kind to gums or enamel) since we’ve been human. Morning breath and stuck-in food bits have apparently always been pretty high on the short list of activities worth spending limited energy on fixing.

Also often found in human settlements? Doctors, or at least some form of medical-type professionals to push for improved sanitation and enough cleanliness to minimise the spread of disease, not to mention heal injuries or perform simple dentistry or help prevent/treat substance abuse and all sorts of other ailments that lead to one being unable to maintain a comfortable-ish body.

(Aside for ghouls: although they’re described in-game as smelling like rotting flesh, I call bullshit. The smell of rot comes from decay, and by definition, things which are decaying are in the process of existing increasingly…uh…less so. [I don’t know, I can’t word good today, ok? Ahem.] And since ghouls are canonically unplagued by senescence [see? Fancy words!], there’s no decay beyond a certain level of damage that would produce that particular offensive smell. And further still since the skin damage would probably render most of their sweat glands gone or non-functional anyway, they’d possibly even lack the traditional human eau du ew at the end of a hard day’s farming. Y’all just decided they smell bad because you don’t like how they look – real nice, post-apocalyptic humans. Real. Nice.)

People living outside of settlements, though…they might be a different story. Like, raiders? Forget it. You’d smell ‘em coming a mile away, where they may be gasping their last due to catastrophic bacterial infection from what started as a wee molar cavity. They’re not expending energy on small personal-upkeep luxuries, or value stealing them from those who do.

Non-sociopathic nomadic types, like traders or mercenaries or people who don’t have useful skills or can’t afford to buy into a settlement (however it works when there’s no pre-war savior throwing away land for free), where carrying space is very limited and they likely don’t have much time or energy for non-essential luxuries…yeah, they might be closer to what we picture as a standard post-apocalyptic citizen. Like…in today’s terms…your stereotypical European gap-year backpacker. You’d certainly bathe and wash clothes when the opportunity and supplies came to hand, but wouldn’t go out of your way unless your red and orange Maslows were all in the black, and if your yellow, green, and blue were already in the pink, why bother?

(Is that a coherent joke? Probably not. Requires googling. But we strike on!)

Hence, in a slightly roundabout way, we come to MacCready’s teeth, and, further, the impact therein on writing a romance with a pre-war character. Or, really, any of the romanceable companion options, but fanon, and Bethesda going out of their way to make him the only one with bad teeth, seem to hold that MacCready’s a special case. He grew up LARPing Lord of The Flies, defiantly proud that there were no adults to make them clean anything they didn’t want to, and he married a girl (brilliant doctor or not) who was part of the same culture and tolerant of near-toxic personal hygiene or at the very least, since they seemed to be on the road when she tragically died, was biding her time until they settled down to enforce better standards.

(And, seriously, Bethesda, just admit it’s the same character as the Lucy he was best buddies with instead of someone who just happened to have the same name…except that does mean that sweet girl died terribly…and now I no longer know what I want to believe. Huh.)

And a pre-war professional lady, one who’d’ve had to maintain a polished image as a non-negotiable element of her career, she’d get past this…how?

Actually…even writing this out, it still doesn’t seem insurmountable. For years, I shared a very small office with a large, manly fellow who didn’t wear deodorant, worked out before work, and ate a lot of fish-heavy lunches. It’s amazing how quickly the human nose shrugs and moves the goal-posts, particularly for lovely people you get on with, or when everyone around you’s more or less at the same level of smell, or when you’re also working out and coming in kinda sweaty and, you know, we’re all human here, right, why are we so dang picky?

And my version of Nora, for all she prefers pretty dresses and parties, isn’t averse to dirty fingernails. She was in the military, had all her hair shaved off and slogged through muddy obstacle courses and dug latrines and everything; she went hunting with her father and helped out in his plumbing shop, getting elbow-deep in animal viscera and worse. A filthy soldier-type would definitely be on her experience spectrum with probably no more judgement than welp, try to stay upwind when possible, even that forgotten after she’s been in the same outfit herself for a couple of weeks.

But the teeth, man, there’s something moreish about bad teeth, right? There’s not just the aesthetics of non-white, non-straight teeth (trust me…having moved to a country [unfairly] famous for poor-quality dentistry, I can report that uniformly white, straight chompers quickly become the weird-looking alternative) but the visceral reaction to class comma lack of, to an indicator not just of “poor” but “poor and not trying to do better.”

Like, I grew up what’s politely called white working class (in a family that mostly passes leisure time with drinking, Fox News, and stockpiling weapons of dubious origins, so, y’know, shruggy-emoticon), and you bet all of us cousins had braces. We were going to get good grades and have office jobs. Our parents were real touchy about terms like “redneck” or “okie” and wouldn’t admit to liking country music. There was something different about the kids who lived in the same area but didn’t get braces. We weren’t encouraged to make friends of them, and as for dating…well…the bad teeth on a significant other brought home would carefully, one could say pointedly, not be mentioned, but every other possible flaw would be.

In college, I dated a mysterious guy I met on Match.com, who wasn’t white and who had the worst teeth I’d ever seen in real life. They were somewhere between ferengi and pirate and I’m sad to say they were the first thing anyone would notice about him. We ended up dating for two bloody years, even talked about marriage, and the funny thing? I never found out what the deal was with those awful, awful teeth.

At first, I didn’t bring it up because, well…how bad did his childhood have to be, that no one made him brush, no one took out a loan to get him in braces? Like, bad teeth were so intrinsically linked with lower-class deprivation in my mind that I just could not even broach the topic with someone of a different ethnic background. And, anyway, he turned out to be solidly middle-class from birth, held two degrees and a software engineering cubicle job that required a tie, even on Fridays. And by that point, well…if the teeth were the first thing you noticed, the second was that he was bubbly and goofy and sweet, and when months later someone looked at a photo of us and asked, “Oh dear, what happened to that poor boy’s teeth?”, it genuinely took me a minute to figure out what she was talking about.

So, my conclusion: even when one’s brought up to see poor hygiene and bad teeth as viscerally, mockably horrifying…as romantic obstacles, they’re quite surmountable. Like, there’d be some half-hearted stocking up of new brushes and mouthwash, nagging to go see the dentist no I don’t care that your childhood dentist looked like Ted Bundy, and probably a collateral raising of their bathing frequency through shared living routines, and it’d be fine, you guys. Totally fine.

Anyway.

This is what happens after a few months without drinking, y’all. These are the brain cells that’d usually get culled off by the friendly gin hammer.

#headcanon #fallout 4 #MacCready’s teeth #mmmmmm gin #storytelling #mustinvestigate rambles #man I really want to brush my teeth now

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