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crabonfire · 3 months

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sick mercs (1/3)

characters: offense class

warnings: none, fluff and crack (I think)

note: I hate making things into parts BUUTTT pyros ALONE ended up being super long, so I'm making them based off of class!! and...its 2 am so I should probably be asleep instead of writing anyway. Parts 2 and 3 will feature the other classes, and will be written tomorrow! Cause its late and I'm tired! okay love u

no but why did I make pyros so long 😭 it was a whole fic wtf

reposts and shares appreciated (u///u)<3

♡Scout♡

•When he's sick he's SUPPPERRR dramatic over it cause when he was a kid his ma was super doting and stuff, and since he was the youngest it made sense. But with you he tries to be all suave and tough, not wanting to admit the fever he has is absolutely killing him, oh the runny nose he has? That's just cause...he...ate something spicy. Not cause of a flu, no...

•He makes an effort to not talk or see the team at all today, and weirdly, he only ever gets sick on ceasefire days. It's like his body isn't used to not doing anything and that gives him a chance to do a bunch of stupid stuff, that, in the end, gets him sick.

•So he's stuck in his room. When you or anyone else knock on his door he pretends he's asleep, and sometimes, he really is. But, when you catch him in the kitchen stealing one of Heavy's sandwiches, he's sniffling, his face slightly red (redder than usual) his expression one like a kicked puppy.

•When you confront him about it, he just acts like he's not sick.

"I'm not sick, okay?"

But when you put your foot down, getting him back to bed and getting the right medicine from the medic, he has this certain look on his face. His cheeks are red, probably because of his fever, but, it might also be caused by you.

The moment your voice turns soft, or stern, depending on how kind you wanna be to his stubbornness, his lips curl into a grin, and immediately he whines and melts, acting like his sickness is the end of the world.

"Ah, my head...ohhhh my head. Hurts so bad. Maybe if ya kiss it...I'll feel better." He says, his voice weak as he closes his eyes, shifting in bed like some sort of damsel in distress.

• He'd be real obedient as you give him medicine and stuff, and stare up at you with bright eyes, as if the little fucker wasn't acting so brave about it before. The moment anyone walks in or sees him being doted, he'll push you away (maybe even physically, in panic) cause he's scared to ruin his reputation.

But when they're gone, he'll apologize and cling to you like a parasite. Muttering and mumbling incoherent things for your attention. He's an ass, but he loves you.

• He'd always tell you how much he appreciates you as you stay by his side, his very dizzy and sick brain making him slur his words, that cheeky grin still plastered on his face.

"You care about me...haha."

"You're so sweet, you love me, don't you?"

You know how some people get super weird and sorta high when they're super sick? Yeah that's scout with you.

♡Soldier♡

• Like Scout, absolutely DENIES that he's sick.

"SICKNESS AND DISEASE IS MERELY A HOAX! AN EXCUSE CREATED BY COMMUNISTS TO SPREAD THEIR LIES ABOUT AMERICAN- ACHOO-"

• Entire day there's a gigantic frown on his face, he cannot stop sneezing. He sneezed on Scout, and Scout was convinced that he was gonna die.

Engineer is the first to speak up after seeing the soldier violently sneeze without closing his nose. But, his stubbornness gets in the way and he merely brushes him off. Then, half the team begs you to talk to him. So you do.

"Hey Soldier, uh, you...you're looking a little pale."

"PALE? WELL, I GUESS MY SKIN HAS BEEN LOOKING GOOD TODAY!"

You chuckled, "No, pale in a bad way. And I notice you've been sneezing a bunch, are you feeling okay? Did you catch a cold?"

He frowns, and yet again, denies any accusation that he's sick. It doesn't take long, though, when you convince him to stay in his room (or yours, which he'd prefer) so you could "surprise" him. He takes that as an invitation for something else and was a little disappointed when he realized it was a trick to get him to rest.

"Wait...THIS IS A TRAP! YOU'VE TRAPPED ME! HELP-"

He starts to yell as you take his helmet off. You simply laugh, placing it nearby. "Yeah. I trapped you, and now, I order you to stay in bed while I go get some medicine. Am I clear?"

He scoffs at your command. "And what if I DON'T stay?" He remarked, you frowned. "Then you'll be disappointing all the...Americans that spent so much time curating and- crafting the very medication that keeps us healthy."

You made that shit up on the spot, but you knew whenever you spoke to him like a commander did, he'd always listen. He thought about it for a moment and grumbled in reply;

"Fine."

• He does as you ask, staying completely still in bed, staring up at the ceiling with a frown, occasionally muttering things to himself as if this very action is the worst thing in the world. When you come back, tray in hand with medicine and a glass of water, his expression softens slightly.

You sit down on the bed, he sits up, and as you hand him the medicine, something warm grows in his chest. He stays silent as he takes the medicine reluctantly, before he stares at you with an unreadable expression.

You smile ask what's wrong but he shakes his head. A big grin appears on his face as he realizes something and he chuckles, but he doesn't tell you what he's thinking about.

"Thanks, cupcake."

• You take care of him, keeping a watch on him for a while as you beg him to get some rest for his cold. He agrees but only if you stay with him, and you do. He holds you tightly as he braves through his cold, head nuzzled in your shoulder as your treated like a Teddy bear.

He felt happy. Someone cared for him, and he didn't know why, but that realization made his heart feel full. Not the type of full he'd usually feel after a hard victory, or the type of full he'd feel after messing around with demoman all day, but a type of full he could feel only with you. He really cared for you, and he was honored you cared for him just as much.

♡Pyro♡

• You could honestly never tell pyro was sick. Sometimes they'd spend days with you as normal, very much sick, but they'd never show it. That's also because they had a strong immune system, and only got sick every couple of years or so.

The one time they've ever gotten sick around you, was during the hottest day in Teufort. Everyone was sweating their asses off, so you could imagine how bad it was for them. Having to be around fire, wearing a heavy, thick, fire retardant suit all day? Oh, it was bad.

They sat at the locker room for longer after battle had ended, seemingly staring off into the distance. Everyone else had left, so did you. But when they didn't come out for an hour or so you checked in on them, visibly worried.

"Pi? You okay?"

You saw them, still sitting in the same bench, looking off into the ground. You walked over to them, placing a hand on their shoulder. They jolted, as if awoken from a deep sleep. They turned their head, their breathing was loud in the quiet room, but it was heavy and ragged. You frowned in worry.

"What's wrong?"

• They muffled something even you couldn't understand, their voice was quiet, before they shook their head and got up. They almost stumbled, but you kept their balance. They leaned their head on your shoulder, and you could feel the heavy breaths they exhaled through their mask. You turned to them, placing a hand on their shoulder.

"It's a hot day, huh? Can't be feeling too good especially in that suit of yours."

They mumbled in reply, and you took that as a sign that they must've been real affected by the heat today. "Lets get you to your room, I'll get you a nice cold glass of water, okay?"

• You headed back to their room, allowing them to sit for a bit as you went and got some ice cold water. You sat by, the door locked as they lifted off their mask to take a sip. You could feel the heat they radiated, even from a short distance.

"Pi, I think you might have a fever."

They chugged down the water, before turning to you, lifting their mask back down. They went quiet for a moment before they nodded. You frowned, "Why didn't you say anything?" They shrugged, shaking their head. "Mmh mmhf mmh mmh mmhf mmhf mm mmhf." (I didn't think I was sick at first.)

You sighed, before humming. "I'll go get some medicine, you should probably lie down- maybe take the suit off first. I won't look if it'll make you uncomfortable." You stared at them, waiting for their response. They paused hesitantly, before nodding.

• When you got back, they were in bed, gas mask still on, but now in their tank top and unicorn themed shorts. They didn't show their body often, as they felt insecure of the scars they had. When they saw you, they pulled the blanket up to their chest, which you didn't comment on.

You walked over with a large bottle of water and some medicine, placing it on a nearby table.

"Medic said you just need some rest and a lot of water, so...don't forget to drink."

You didn't quite know what to do with the pyro. They were quiet, which, to you wasn't that unusual. But you could feel the nervousness, and you felt worried, as they didn't seem too good. They murmured a "thank you," staring up at you as you sit by them.

"Do you want me to leave?"

In truth, you didn't want to, and they didn't want you to either. But you didn't want to make them uncomfortable, as the only other times they've showed their body to you were in intimate situations. You didn't want to overwhelm them, but you wanted to take care of them. They shook their head, before mumbling;

"Mm mmhn mmhf mm mmhh mmhf mm mmhn mmhnf mmh." (You don't have to stay if you don't want to.)

"I'll stay for a bit. You need your rest and.. I wanna make sure you're okay."

That sentence could make them melt if the heat wasn't already doing that to them. They let out a hoarse giggle. You always made them swoon, even if the things you said weren't overly romantic. It always meant a lot to them, as they never really had someone who cared.

That noise always made you smile, as you stared down at them. It was silent for a while as you two looked at each other. Even under the mask you could tell they had a smile. You've only ever seen that smile once, and the thought of it makes your heart race. You soon broke the silence, slowly getting up.

"Drink your meds and get some sleep, okay?

• As you left, they couldn't help but smile. They got up to lock the door, before taking off their mask and flopping into bed. Not forgetting to do as you said, they fall fast asleep with you on their mind.

Even in their dreams your their, and even with this small, common gesture of caring for them, they cant help but feel a bit weak in the knees when they think of you. They thought the engineer was sweet, but you? They should call you sugar.

It was the first time they had someone worry so much, the way you frowned at them made their chest tighten, and weirdly, in a reaffirming way. In a way that made them realize they weren't so bad, and they were capable of being cared for.

Maybe they were getting too into it, but they didn't care.

♡♡♡♡

I did not expect pyros to be long. Like I was writing and suddenly as I was looking back I realized how much I was yapping. Shit. Anyway, defense and support classes will be written by tomorrow, probably the one or both. Yay!

#tf2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 soldier x reader #tf2 pyro x reader #tf2 offense classes #tf2 offense #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 fanfic #love u pyro #was in a pyro kinda mood writing this so yeah theirs is the longest #crabonfire

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pupyuj · 4 months

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ENA WE NEED GHOSTFACE YUJIN PLEASE

Sadly I have no plot but im sure your genius brain can come up with something crazy 🤭

LOVE YOU

AAAAAA THIS ASKKKK ILY TOO KEER HEHEHEHE 😭💕💕 hopefully i get to do a full fic on ghostface!yujin in the future bcs i am sooo into the idea omgkdhjkhvc

yujinnie definitely the type of ghostface to initially plan on killing you fr but thought you were too pretty so she'd have a bit of fun with you first! it helps that you knew yujin as that unfairly handsome girl who walked aimlessly around the local library (that you just so happened to frequently hang out in) for no reason... bcs when she took off her mask after breaking into your room and scaring the living lights out of you, you found yourself softening up instead of screaming your head off and it only made things easier for yujin! she wouldn't even let you recover from your initial shock and just grab you 😳

definitely makes fun of you while you're desperately sucking her off as if your life depended on it bcs guess what... it did! see, you weren't restrained so you could have easily stolen her stupid knife and finally put an end to the nightmare she has put the entire neighborhood in but god you're such a whore that the sight of yujin throwing her head back and hearing her moan turned your brain into mush... making you only capable of pleasuring her and nothing else 😵‍💫 and her praises only made you want to do her better! "just like that... fuck—" yujinnie would feel so good that she'd fuck your mouth herself!

"y-you... don't feel any shame at all, huh, slut? fuck.. sucking off a murderer like this... if only those goody-two-shoes of a friend group you have could see you now..." yujinnie says while you're crying bcs it just dawned on you how much of an idiot you were being :(( even if you somehow gave yujin the best fuck of her life, she'd still kill you! you were practically spending your last moments sucking her dick which wasn't only embarrassing but also just fucking crazy...

ofc a serial killer as sick as yujin wouldn't care at all when you're bent over and sobbing on your pillow while she pounded you from behind, not letting up even when you've cum so much 😣 she'd be so happy to see you all messed up under her,, "take it, you bitch..." omgomg she would grab your jaw and push your back to her chest so she can hear you clearly, giggling against you shoulder while she simultaneously toyed with your clit and thrusted deeply inside you… as dirty as it was, it was definitely way better than being stabbed to death… and yujin got to know how grateful you were of her for sparing your life for the night when you obediently started riding her, doing anything and everything to get the two of you to cum together… 😵‍💫

yujinnie would leave without another word after all of that, but she definitely comes back for more! after every other kill, she comes to you for relief… or to waste whatever energy she has left! sometimes you never really know if it’s your last night whenever yujin knocks on your window… but the fear in your eyes every time you turn around to look at her was such a turn on that yujin just can’t help but let you live night after night… your life was just a sick game to her and you know what?? as long as you’re still breathing the morning after, you’ll let her play with you for as long as she wants 🤭🤭

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rpedia · 3 months

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How to deal with lack of motivation to reply?

Ah, the old blank screen stare. So, for the most part I consider this issue to be several intersecting problems at the same time. Usually a lack of motivation indicates a.) a lack of fun/enjoyment, b.) low/no expectation of reward, or c.) fear or apprehension. Let's explore that under the cut.

When you are roleplaying and you're not enjoying yourself explicitly, if the journey to a finished post is not fun itself, we're kind of fucking ourselves over. Creation of these words, excitement at turning a phrase or approaching an idea you really want to explore is basically the whole gist of it. It is a hobby, and loving what you write and laughing at your own jokes is important! You are your own first audience, and if you're not impressed or pleased with what you're writing, it becomes an endless Sisyphean task where you unhappily struggle to write something, anything, to just get through it.

In this case it may be a lack of inspiration. With no structure, or core, we can really easily lose sight of what kind of play we're looking for. What are your goals? Are you here for plot, or character? For smut, or a quick playful bit of banter? Do you want to fight, or are you reaching for some overarching thing? Hell, do you know where THIS scene is headed, or does it feel like an endless trudge? These ideals disappearing or falling to the wayside for someone else can really fuck the vibe!

How are you supposed to know what to write, if you don't have any plans for the character, or don't know where they might potentially go? Like it doesn't have to be hard and fast, but understanding your characters own personal goals, fears, joys, and secrets (entirely different to you, the player) can help with motivation in writing them. I like to explore these by playing games with myself, and daydreaming about scenarios and possibilities that aren't "canon" to my character, but just let me know more about them if a similar situation were to come up. Having a library chock-full of potential what-ifs can help a ton in figuring out how to approach any actions or direction a partner may push you towards. Be excited to explore your character, and to show them off to others! This journey is soooo important to love for itself!

Like with any piece of art, not enjoying the process is a quick short-cut to burn-out and misery. So, if this is happening you might want to adjust some things if you're sitting there upset and bored instead of enjoying what should be a fun pastime you can lose yourself in! So instead of beating yourself up about posting, figure out why it's a chore. Are you taking care of yourself? Have you met the S.H.R.E.K. criteria for the day? Is this post not something in your wheelhouse, or do you feel like you could be doing something else and getting more fun out of it?

Before I get ahead of myself, let me address the truly horrific acronym I just threw at you. S.H.R.E.K. criteria? Who would inflict this on you? Well... me, because it's so memetic and stupid I remember it way better than most acronyms, so buckle up buttercup. It stands for:

Socialization: Have you talked to someone or had meaningful interactions with others for the day? Depending on your needs, you may need hugs, touching others, chatting with loved ones, or cuddling. Some people literally need to be touched, held, hugged, and talked with the thrive, and others can do just fine with a little less. Listen to the monkey studies: Don't be a wire mother to yourself, let yourself have cloth mother sometimes. Hydration: Have you been drinking enough liquids to be hydrated and keep your piss from being too yellow? No liquids means your body starts sucking at everything from getting oxygen to the brain, to making food into energy. Make sure you balance hydration with salt and food intake, but never underestimate what a good cold cup of something can do. And yes, any liquid works. Coffee is dehydrating, so is soda, but their hydrating effect is way bigger than how often they make you piddle so it balances out. Still, water is best but don't beat yourself up about it. Rest: Have you slept enough in the last 24 hours? I know you think 4-6 is okay, but it's really not, it will actually cause you to behave like an alcoholic and lead to later insomnia, mental issue worsening, and health problems like heart issues. Nip that in the bud, sleep full 8-10 hour nights. Or nap if you're just sleepy! Eat: Have you shoved nutritious food in your gob or are you dying from scurvy, beri-beri, and malnutrition simultaneously while depriving the lil dudes who help you write a good lunch? Don't starve your lil neuron folks, they need a good meal too. Even if it's just ingredients for a meal, anything is better than nothing and you deserve food. Kinetics: Have you moved around? Stretched? Walked or played? Sometimes if you're starting out from zero, you might try just standing up and sitting down a couple times to help get bloodflow going! Getting active at whatever level you're at is good for the brain.

Anyways after that interlude, back to basics. At the lowest tier we want to be having fun. If we're not, it might be us, or it might be a boring lackluster partner. That's where a lack of reward comes in. If the partner is, bless them and their hard work, just not giving you the thrills to pay the dopamine bills? That just might mean you guys aren't a good match! This is not the end of the world, it just means you might need to stop playing with them.

Step back, consider if roleplaying with their style and output is worth your time and effort, and do BOTH of you a favor if they aren't. Set them free to play with other players who love their writing and can't get enough of it, and stop grating your teeth across cement trying to come up with something to keep things you don't even like going. This is the communication part, remember how I used to harp on that? Well old Uragani still thinks it's super important. So discuss that 'hey, we might not be a great fit for writing together' and come up with solutions. Maybe finding new partners, and just staying friends, or just waving goodbye to each other and hitting the road.

Here we find ourselves looking at challenger #3, the good old fear and apprehension. This comes up more than I'd like to admit. Are you worried about what's happening next? Or how you might portray something? Have you worked yourself up too much, and now you feel like you can never meet your own expectations? Are you scared of letting down a partner, and not giving them your best? Do you feel like your post might go over an unwritten line, and leave people upset with you?

Congrats! I hate that shit too! I do not know why brains do this to us! I would like to sue!

Anxiety is a hell of a beast, so is Impostor Syndrome, and fear of letting people down, and all the other fun goodies in that bag. They can be worked on at home, in small doses. You gotta learn to sit back, and be able to talk to yourself. Why are you feeling this way, and finding the name for your emotional state, accepting it, and letting it pass through can help. In major situations, you might need to find yourself a good old Common Sense Dispenser, better known as a therapist. They have the tools you need, and yes, roleplay can be a play you find out what you need. It's not dumb, it's useful.

Working through this can be as simple as discussing your fears with your partner and making sure everything is kosher. It might need you to look at a worst case scenario and then planning an exit strategy for that, even if it never happens. Sometimes, you just gotta heft yourself up, and push through the fear. There's a million ways to get through it, and I'm not the person who can tell you which will work for you. But I can tell you, it gets better the longer you work with it. Confidence comes from experience, the more you work at it, the more it feels like second nature.

But that brings with it the last beast, the hidden #4. Burn-out. Sometimes, when we delve too deeply into something we love, we ignore the signs of burn-out. Losing interest in things we once deeply enjoyed. Feeling exhausted at the thought of starting a post, or writing anything. Feeling like we've lost touch with what we used to be good at. Burn out can be a miserable thing, because it stand between us and our goals, our happiness, and it keeps them behind the thickest glass, so we can see them, but getting them feels impossible. The harder we push, the thicker the glass becomes.

In cases of burn out, like the kind I've experienced, sometimes you need to take a step back and just do something else. Go on hiatus. Maybe it's hooked to a character, and you simply have to play with some other muse. Maybe it's with another player, and finding a new fandom without them in it can help. Maybe it's with writing at large, and you need to go find some other outlet to explore while this one heals. You cannot do the same thing forever, you will lose touch with what makes it special. Believe me.

But after healing, which can take years if you keep pushing it like some idiot who wrote RPedia long after you should stop, it'll be fun again. You'll want to come back, and do the thing you were good at, and loved again. The spark will return, and things just... settle and feel better. I promise. Just let yourself have that time to recover without pushing yourself somewhere you aren't meant to go right now.

Naturally there's other stuff too. ADHD/Autism/other issues could be throwing the executive dysfunction ball into your lap and suddenly doing the thing you've done a thousand times is impossible. Stars aren't in alignment. Maybe you're stressed out because of an external force and need a break. Maybe the thread you're in has been going on too long in the same scene, and you need to cut and start a "fresh episode" before everything stays stale forever. Maybe you just aren't in the mood! There's a million reasons, but all of them come down to figuring out what the problem is, and engaging with ways to break that problem down into bits. Find your fun. Look for partners who make you feel like writing with them is worth it. Work with your fears, and express yourself about them and let them past through you. Find external help if needed, and take care of your body while you're at it.

And hey, remember, I am not the end all be all of advice. It could totally be something outside of these circumstances, but I'd like to think that in my experience these are the major factors that I keep coming across. If any of this has been a help, I can only be happy to have said it. Thank you so much for reading!

#ask rpedia #anonymous #roleplaying #rph #rpedia #passion #writing #roleplaying advice #personal help #hey uhm #im back #oop #We'll see how long before I burn out again #hi guys though!#I'll post once every Friday until I lose steam

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mageofseven · 11 months

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Nesting with Birdie: A BarbMams Love Story

Chapter 2

Taglist: @astroseuss @fcxyviixen

Let me know if you'd like to join the taglist~

Barbatos laid in bed with his boyfriend for a while; fortunately, it was his day off today so the butler could stay with him.

The older demon felt so guilty. He was usually so on top of things, but being with Mammon seems to have relaxed him too much in this case.

He should have used protection. Mammon may not have realized he could become pregnant, but Barb most certainly knew his boyfriend had that ability

Yet when things become intimate between the two and Mammon gets so needy and desperate for him, part of the older demon's brain just shuts off and all that matters in that situation is giving his boyfriend everything he needs.

He thought nothing of it before but...in the pursuit of giving this man everything he needs, he forgot that protecting him from unfortunate circumstances was also important.

Mammon depends on their relationship being a secret; he's made that very clear to the butler and in truth, Barbatos has never minded one bit.

However...Mammon is right. Their relationship cannot stay secret with this child in the midst...

Which is why Barbatos brought up this topic.

"Birdie, we need to discuss this...situation." He spoke softly to the man in his arms.

"I don't wanna even think 'bout it..." Mammon mumbled from inside his boyfriend's chest.

"This problem will not go away simply by ignoring it."

"I know..."

Barbatos kissed the younger man's head.

"I understand the timing of this is poor and something you might not be able to handle," Barb stroked his back. "But you do have options and I will explore whichever ones you would like."

Mammon turned his head, laying his cheek against his boyfriend's chest instead of hiding his face.

"Ya know...I used to kinda want kids; still do, if I'm honest," Mammon spoke in a soft tone. "But in my mind that was justa future thing, somethin' for a hopefully better version of myself to do when I'm in a better place like having the whole debt problem squared away and all of my issues sorted out...but that ain't this. I'm still a fuckin' mess, same as always...how can I give a kid a good life like this?"

Barbatos pursed his lips.

"Your life is...indeed in a tricky place, but it does not have to stay there." The butler explained. "If you are ready to make some lifestyles changes to help matters, I am more than willing to support you with it."

"But can I actually change?" Mammon lightly gripped his boyfriend's shirt. "I can't do anything right. Imma screw up, a burden, so fuckin' stupid--"

"You are not stupid." Barbatos lightly scolded the younger man. "You are well aware how much that word bothers me, little bird."

The word just gave the older demon flashbacks of when he found Mammon on the hallway floor of HoL, sobbing while he pulled his hair and hit his head, calling himself 'stupid' over and over again.

That situation was the catalyst to their entire relationship; however, it still wasn't a fond memory for the butler. It only reminded him how helpless he felt watching the second brother cry like that...

"But I--"

"You make mistakes, same as everyone else." Barb insisted. "No matter what your brothers say, you are a very intelligent man and I refuse to let you keep believing otherwise."

Mammon's brothers have infected his brain at his own detriment. Those other men created the voice that speaks horrible words inside his boyfriend's head and it was painful to see how much it hurt the second brother.

Surely if the brothers realized the damage they did to Mammon with their words that they would cease their insults and be softer with the greed demon

Or so Barb believed. Still, the butler couldn't interfere until Mammon himself made the decision to speak about his feelings to his brothers.

Mammon just kept shaking his head, as if this action could knock the bad thoughts out of his mind.

"I can't do this, but also have no clue what to do 'bout it."

Barb rubbed his boyfriend's back.

"All I ask is that you give this some thought; you do not need to have an answer right this moment."

Mammon sighed.

"Yeah, yeah."

The couple spent the day inside and once the sun had set, the Avatar of Greed had to leave his boyfriend so Barbatos could get some sleep for work tomorrow and Mammon could get home to avoid too much suspicion.

Considering how things had...developed for these men today, the couple was extra reluctant to part from one another.

Most of the leaving process involved Mammon repeating over and over again how he had to go, all the while he was the one clinging to Barbatos and stealing kisses from the amused butler.

Mammon trudged back home to HoL and started heading to his room

Until he found all of his brothers in the living room, waiting for him.

"Uhhh, what's with all this?"

The second brother could feel the other men staring at him so intently that he instinctively covered his stomach with his arms, as if he was afraid his brothers could see right through his body and at the tiny flesh thing trying to become a baby.

"Mammon, we'd like to have a talk with you." Lucifer explained, making his brother sweat.

"W-What the hell did I do now??"

Oh shit, he was gonna get tied to the rafters again for something, wasn't he??

The brother was internally panicking and not just for himself, but his kid too. There's no way it does the baby any good for Mammon to have his insides smooshed against each other from the tight rope.

Mammon backed up in fear.

"Nothing." His older brother looked at him with suspicion, wondering if the greed demon has done something and was doing a poor job of concealing it. "However--"

"Omg just tell us!!" Asmo begged.

"What--"

"Last night you were cursing about being late and that 'babe' was gonna be pissed." Belphie explained. "You thought I was asleep on the couch at the time."

...shit.

Okay so actually he said 'Barb' and not 'babe' but still, Mammon was caught.

"It's not just your mumbling though." Lucifer explained. "For the last few months, you've been particularly rushed each Saturday night, only to return late each Sunday."

"So just tell us! Who are you dating??"

Ok, not he was majorly panicking.

The second brother made a few attempts to speak, only to find himself too tongue-tied and instead ran up to his room, slamming the door.

Mammon slid to the floor and hid his face in his hands.

"Gaaah, why now??" He stressed before hitting himself in the head. "Stupid, stupid, stu--"

The man lowered his hand and instead hid his face in his arms.

He can't be doing that. Barb would be so upset if he knew was sitting here, hitting himself and calling himself that word

But what else was he supposed to do when everything was falling apart?

#obey me #obey me otome #obey me mammon #obey me barbatos #obey me barbmams #obey me barbatos x mammon

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sidhewrites · 3 months

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do you have tips on learning how to do that with your thoughts when all you want to do is hate yourself

regarding this post

So this is coming with a couple disclaimers:

This may not work for everyone, because everyone is different and there's no panacea for mental health

i'm not an authority, i just worked with a DBT therapist for 5 years and did my best for after that.

this method isn't necessarily meant to stop your thought spirals or feeling like shit. I'm giving this advice from the perspective of just wanting to make it bearable and allow you to get to the other side unscathed

This will not work right away. It sucks. I hate that it takes time and effort, but it does. It's a skill you have to build up. It took me literal years to get it to work and I promise you're worth the time it takes to figure it out as well.

Finally, ask for external validation whenever you need it. Friends, family, positivity blogs, r/congratslikeimfive anywhere. This is hard! You're doing a hard thing. And you deserve to have people on your side while you do it.

But start with knowing logically that these thoughts are not the truth. They're not you, they're not reality, they're just the chemicals in your brain and thought patterns making you feel like shit. It may feel real, but it's not, I promise. You aren't a terrible person, your friends don't hate you, and your cat would not be better off starving on the streets covered in fleas. It'll take a while to believe this, but tell yourself until it feels true. Fake it till you make it. It takes time for it to really sink in, but it will.

Addendum: turns out i have a lot to say so it's going under a cut

Your job is to start with stopping things from spiraling to the bottom. Whether that means slowing it down, stopping it, or bringing it back up -- it just depends the situation in the moment and your skill with coping methods.

SAY STOP: You can use a couple of skills that may or may not work for you. Sometimes it's just physically stopping whatever movements you're doing, holding your hands out, saying the word stop. When I get caught in an indecision spiral where I want to do everything at once (put the dishes away, pick up the towel, stop the timer on my phone, etc etc etc), I physically make myself stand still, hold my palms outward like I'm telling someone else to stop, and think "Stop."

It lets me reset and make an order of operations in my head and manage things. It might work with some things but not with others. Like saying stop won't make my self-hatred spiral help, but you gotta try anyway to figure out what works and what doesn't.

GIVE IT A NAME: For me personally, it's easier to separate myself from these emotions than it is to say "No, I'm wrong, I shouldn't be thinking this way, I'm stupid for feeling this way." Because in the moment it doesn't feel wrong, even when it is demonstrably false, and can make you spiral further down.

You can use a name that's funny, that's meaningful, whatever. I chose clarence because it's fun to say "Fuck off, clarence." Clarence is wrong. Clarence is stupid for thinking this way. I'm amazing.

Find some way to talk about these spirals in a way as if they're an entirely different entity than yourself, and then tell them to leave you alone. Again, it won't stop the spirals from happening, but it will make it easier to suffer through until you're able to come down from your emotional distress.

TELL YOURSELF YOU'RE AMAZING.

I don't care if it feels wrong, or like a lie. I am telling you, as someone who went through major depressive disorder with no coping skills, you're amazing. You've gotten through this much, and you deserve good things.

Find concrete facts about yourself so you can argue with your Clarence. He thinks you suck? Well you're really good at making pancakes and your friends love your jokes and you have the best taste in shoes, so Clarence can fuck right off because he's wrong.

If you can't find it on your own...

ASK FOR HELP

Tell the people in your life. I'll say to my friends Clarence is being a bitch about XYZ" and they hype me up and talk about how wrong he is and point out things they like.

You might feel like they're wrong. You might feel like they're lying to make you feel better.

That's not true. That's just Clarence being a bitch and telling you lies. Your friends love you, and they love you enough to tell you how great they think you are.

DISTRACT YOURSELF

Make sure it's something that you like. No doomscrolling, nothing to make you angry, nothing to make you hopeless. It doesn't have to be positive or funny, but it has to get your mind off things. A movie, tv, a video game, whatever. It'll help get your mind out of the spiral and get on with your life. It'll feel shitty and awful until you get out of that hole, and the hole will always be there to trip into, but you'll know it's not true. It's just some shitty dude who lives in your head trying to be a shit and get in the way of how amazing you are.

Anecdote: I was having a self hatred spiral and feeling like daisy would be better off on the streets than she is in my house. Meanwhile she's across the room looking like the happiest girl in the world. I literally took a picture because it was so funny how BLATANTLY FALSE my emotions were in the moment. Look at her. I love her.

#Ask #Anonymous #mental health

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izzy-b-hands · 7 months

Text

Ongoing PTSD breakdown trauma stuff below the cut, pls ignore, just need to spew it somewhere that like. I know my feelings will be safe to have and type up and whatever. Also, sorta? mild our flag spoilers under the cut bc my brain is a mess and I use characters I love to help metaphor out and explain my own shit so. yeah. that's also a thing here.

Motherfucking random traumatic memory abt Mum fucking. Randomly hitting me while I'm writing fic (for no apparent reason, no idea what triggered my brain to throw this at me when I WAS NEARLY DONE WITH THE FUCKING FIC NO LESS)

So goddamn rude. I'm off my track on the fic now, so I'm setting it aside for the night (we have Ren Faire today (it literally just hit midnight lol), but after that I want to get back to it) and realising I should really write this memory down.

Like. all of the little details about it, the bits of Mum and I and our relationship surrounding it. Both because my brain does tend to shutter some of those things away and makes them hard to get to without it being stupid lengthy a process involving talking out every feeling I'm having with someone else(unless it pulls some shit like tonight, then suddenly it's no fucking problem throwing it all over the place apparently) and because like

I don't know if I could say this one out loud to anyone, but I think I should. Probably a therapist, but it's one of those stupid trauma things of you just Want Someone, Anyone To Know, Now. To acknowledge it and say if it was as fucked up as it feels (bc I will never deny the possibility that I'm being dramatic and it isn't, and I should just. chill the fuck out about it.)

But every time I start trying to type it out I get hit with this wave of a physical response where my arms and wrists and fingers feel like they're clenching up and I Can't type it. And there's a part of me that doesn't want to because if I can see it in letters on a page, then it's real. It's real and it happened and maybe it was as fucked up as it feels like it was and if that's all true then like. it fits with everything else about our relationship that's already fucked up, from the severe (better than it used to be, but I'm sure it's very clear to y'all that it's still Not Good even though I've moved away from her) co-dependence to the emotional incest (fun fact: that term feels like a gut punch every time I hear it, and I've heard it from my therapist more than a few times now over the past 9ish years of treatment.) So I shouldn't be shocked by that or like, upset, right?

Yet I'm here typing this out to put off typing it up, and I'd bet money I don't necessarily have that I'll wind up putting my laptop away, showering, and going to bed without getting it typed. For better or for worse.

Part of the reason I worry so much abt Frenchie this season (aside from that I love him and he's one of my faves and I want nothing but good and happy for him) is because I also subscribe to his 'shove all the fucked up shit you've seen/experienced in a box in your mind and just. Never open it unless you're putting more in there' method of coping (have all my life, it was so weirdly validating to see it onscreen like that explained so plainly) and like. This is me when the box somehow pops open when I didn't mean it to, and I both want Frenchie to be able to process the things that have happened to him but also don't want to see a character I love so much hurt like this. Because it feels like a big stupid gaping open wound in my chest that I'm being entirely too dramatic about, no matter how valid feeling that way abt it might be.

Kind of hope I can just shut the lid on the box so I can get done and go to sleep after I post this. Should I actually type out the memory and everything? I hate to think that the answer my therapist would have given me, if I could afford to be seeing her rn, would be yes. But the thing is, I have fucking Ren Faire tomorrow in my Izzy cosplay (that Housemate says I look good in, which I'll vainly admit I'm rather happy about, even if it is a very inaccurate and homemade cosplay that's missing certain details I can't yet afford to buy), and I don't want to be dealing with any of this for the rest of the night/into tomorrow. I need to sleep so I can go have some fucking fun, for once. I even feel ok to bring my cane with folded in my bag, just in case I need it, bc that would still be in character if I wind up needing to use it. I can count on one hand the times I've had a fun experience where I also felt safe admitting when my body was hurting and using a physical aid to help it get by; I'm not losing this one.

It's not getting typed out, and I need to duct tape that fucking box shut for now.

#text post #long post #tw ptsd #ngl kind of feeling exhausted and can't think of what other tws to add so if y'all see one I should have pls msg me and I can add asap #here or on discord if u have my discord info whatever works #im going to shut my laptop down shower and try to force myself to cry in there #bc the fact that I haven't had a big physically painful sob session means I'm not fully done with this rough patch bc they ALWAYS get bette #after I have The Big Sob Session #until I have it I just have to work hard to keep myself together and not let it affect other stuff which tbh #this stuff ive carried so long that even in like. active breakdown or wtf ever u wanna call it #masking and getting by in public is somehow still easy enough #but that's another thing I'm fucking off to the shower pls cross ur fingers and toes that i at least cry a little in there so I can sleep l

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kelseyfitzherbert · 1 year

Text

so id love to put this under a read more but i haven't been here lately and my brain is mush and i forgot but i just need a place to scream

tw: cancer, depression, self hatred, loneliness, etc etc etc

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

im so tired. my toddler has cancer yet im the tired one. everyday is just me on autopilot until the next treatment, or doctor's visit, or body scan. when my husband isn't home, i crumble, having to handle my son alone. and he's a really good kid. but everyday is the same. and i know it's temporary, and i know i should be grateful for whatever time i have with my kid, but i'm losing me. i want to get away but have nowhere to go. i want to escape but everywhere i turn is reality. and i can't. i have a job to do here and my kid is counting on me.

but man, what i would've give for like, a four day coma.

im lonely. i feel like everyone i love pulls away from me, and it's my own doing. one example is i used to talk everyday in a group chat with my only local remaining close friends, but now it's deserted and i'm 90% sure they have a group without me. i didn't mean to pull away. things just got so busy and sometimes it's just so hard for me to even say a sentence. they tried to invite me to things at first but with my schedule so up in the air and dependent on riley, they stopped asking me. and maybe i'm stupid, and overreacting, and self sabotaging myself but i feel like almost everyone in my life is doing this now. my husband, my kid, my friends, my family. and it's so hard not to blame it on myself because....why wouldn't it be. ive done this my entire life. i push people away. i don't mean to, but i do.

i don't mean to be this way but everything in my life is so isolating right now. i don't spend any time with anyone outside my family. i have problems that get ignored. i try and speak up but it feels like im invisible. it feels like nobody wants to hang out, or spend time with me, or just talk to me about things that are normal and not my situation. my old friends don't say they miss me, or try and help me get out of this in and out day by day horror ride i'm on. sometimes it feels like nobody wants me around. and i know it's not other peoples jobs to do that. i know it's my own. i know i need to put forth a majority of the effort but i feel like i'm giving and giving and giving and giving and nobody hears me. i can't give anymore. i'm exhausted. i'm embarrassed. i'm ashamed. sometimes it feels like nobody's life would benefit from keeping me close and it's just so fucking hard right now.

because who would want to. who would want to entertain the girl whose kid has cancer and over compensates with everything else in her life to try and find a little bit of peace in such a scary, awful world. who gets too loud, too obsessive, too clingy or too annoying. i try not to but it's just hard. idk how my husband is still here. i would've left me so long ago.

i look in the mirror and i hate myself. i hate what i see. i hate who i am and only see myself as useless. i blame that on why nobody wants to be around me, and it pushes me further. i hate the way i look, and i hate it because i'm in better shape than ive been. but ive just been staring at myself today wondering what the fuck im doing wrong. im scared to be around my husband, who is the kindest person in the world. who, without him, id fall apart.

maybe im just overreacting. ive got people in my life who i love so much and i know care about me. but i can't help but fall back into that thinking of "im going to ruin this again" because it's all ive ever done. i don't want to push my friends, my family, my damn husband away. and i overcompensate that and it comes off as clingy and desperate and annoying.

i want to get back to things i love but it's hard. im trying. i still workout, i actually love going at 430am now. but other than that, i cannot get myself to do anything more than exist. i want to do things. i want to talk to people and go out and adventure and live. i want to draw and write and sing but i can't. i just can't.

im so proud of my kid. ive watched this little two year old do things with a smile on his face that would make a grown person cry. he's so brave, and i can't be that for him and i hate it.

im just tired. and if you made it this far, hey, what's up lol. sorry i just disappear and then reappear randomly upset about stuff. this blog has always been my number one safe space since 2010. it's see a lot of the shit of my life. im starting therapy again this month, which will be a shitshow. it'll be good, but it'll be a shitshow.

just...be kind. that's all i can say. be kind to people. you never know what they're going through, and sometimes a simple word can help so much.

and thank you to those who reach out. who care. i love you all. ❤️

#personal

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narhinafan · 1 year

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One thing I have observed of Sakura fans over the years as they can't really explain why they like Sakura. I mean seriously what is it about Sakura that they like in the first place? Is it her personality? I find her personality to be a terrible character trope and the character isn't even entertaining. When you compare Sakura to her counterparts like nami in one piece it's night and day. I can understand why fans would ship nami with Luffy considering their relationship yeah she does things like hit Luffy sometimes that's when Luffy does something stupid it's usually for a comedic moment. There's evidence that the ship can happen because Luffy gave his hat to nami and no other character. Yeah the animation stuff in one piece maybe biased towards nami but unlike Sakura nami is actually good character who doesn't treat her friends like shit like Sakura does. Nami fans could explain why they like nami her intelligence her tragic past how she uses her brains to fight when she gets an opportunity to do so Sakura has none of that.

No one shipped Naruto and Sakura until sp pushed their fanfiction ship on everyone when the anime got into fillers. Unlike Naruto and Sakura Luffy and nami have moments back in the interpreted as canon in the manga. I just don't understand it for the life of me why would anyone like Sakura when her character trope is one of the worst out and her counterparts and the other former big three are a lot better nami and rukia are leaps and bounds better than Sakura and they're not defined by Ichigo or Luffy they're great characters in their own right something that cannot be said for Sakura who depends on her shitty shit for her character.

I know the worse part is when they talk as if she is a completely different character only for you to point out the faults in what they are saying. Or worse they try and make Sakura seem better by hating on somthing ridiculous about other characters. Sakura's personality is just terrible there is no reason for them to like her so much that it is cult like, all of them pretty much have some idolised idea of Sakura instead of what her character truly is.

With Nami her hitting Luffy means little cause as a rubber man he can't feel blunt trauma unless it is Haki infused. But yeah I get what you are saying like Nami is overall better why she isn't too useful in a fight her character has always been developing to give her a way to fight back and overcome her weakness she actually strives not to be liability unlike Sakura who only took her training a bit more seriously after Sasuke left and did nothing else to improve herself even when Naruto was training to the point he collapses.

That is not entirely true the reason SP pushed NaruSaku is cause they had a screenwriter that was completely bias and kept forcing the ship. You are right though till the anime not many shipped Naruto with Sakura cause in the manga his crush is rarely brought up or shown unless Sasuke is involved, you can tell its not serious.

#anti narusaku #anti sakura haruno #anti narusaku fandom #anti sakura haruno fandom

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systematic-advice · 2 years

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Im just ranting so feel free to ignore this, but like... we struggle a lot with doubt, as kind of to be expected? Honestly we don't look at a lot of system content tm online because we tend to compare our experiences a lot, and if we don't relate to some arbitrary post about switching etc we, but especially the host, will immediately doubt if we "truly are a system" and this is just so tiring. Especially when over the years you see so much contradicting information, usually along the lines of "x way of experiencing this is the norm for systems", which isn't even like invalidating those that fall outside of that norm, but for some reason we can't stop this stupid comparing. We would never think someone else isnt a system because their symptoms differ from ours or the "normal" / most common symptoms but ugh... I've seen people state alters who have very strong separate senses of identity are the norm, and then a few years later ill stumble over a post that's like "actually, its normal for alters to not want to see themselves as very separate of the host etc" and no one ever has sources and looking for them leads to reddit 90% of the time and yea i just feel very very weird and frustrated.

Like not to open that can of worms but I once spent an entire afternoon looking for in depth descriptions of the differences between OSDD1a and b only to discover that (to our knowledge), the DSM and ICD never defined these as separate, clear cut diagnoses and they rather were examples given on how OSDD might present differently from DID, but someone interpreted them as clear cut definitions of OSDD types and a few years later here we are??? I have never seen that brought up anywhere and im so tired of looking for sources on things everyone repeats n copy pastes around..... its just so exhausting to deal with that when you just want to understand your own brain better but nearly everything you look up online needs to be fact checked for 5+ hours and/or makes us spiral into doubt.

(We can't like, simply talk over these things with a therapist bc despite having insurance and all, we live in a small European country with maybe handful of professionals actually educated on the topic, who are all in cities a few hours away and we struggle with mobility limiting disability on top of cptsd that makes leaving the house impossible on many days (and being autistic and unable to do video call consultations either. Basically we are stuck without a proper therapist until we save up enough to move to a bigger city closer by to said professionals... so the internet is like all we got, but yea its just. Kinda awful all around)

Hello there Anon!

First, you're right! Believing you might not actually be a System is very normal. I'm still sorry to know you're going through it, but it's a normal part of Systemhood. As are many other things!

I think it's 'very' important to remember that the experiences of others don't invalidate your experiences. Systems are ALL different, because brains are all different. While there are defining features to DID/OSDD, there is little research to set those criteria in stone. We are still learning what life is like for Systems, because a lot of us have only recently found a voice. What you're going through is valid, even if it isn't the same as someone else and their System. Especially in the sense of Alter identity. Some Systems have Alters who would rather be perceived as the body. Some Systems, like ourselves, are staunchly individual. It all depends on the person.

I am sorry to know you're having such a hard time finding credible information. I fully get the frustration as someone who spends a lot of time researching for these asks. It can be nearly impossible to drum up answers because so little information is currently available. There are only a hand full of credible sources to begin with and not everything is publicly accessible. As I have said before, there seems to be a lot of Gatekeeping in the mental Health field. A fact which I truly find unfortunate and when I finish my education I plan to do my best to change that.

In terms of what you said about the definition of OSDD, I do know I read a very credible post about that exact thing a few months ago. It was done by @justanothersyscourse and it can be found here: POST It's filled with sources and does a very good job of explaining the two labels.

I hope you're able to arrive at a point where you don't feel like you need to compare yourself to others. You're an individual and what you go through is unlikely to ever fully line up with what others experience. It's the unfortunate part of the Human Condition, but it doesn't make what you're going through any less impactful or real.

Good luck in sorting it all out Anon.

[ID: A banner depicting the Greek letter psi, the symbol commonly associated with therapists, crossed out with a large red circle. The text reads “The Auncles are NOT Psychologists/ Psychiatrists/ Medical Professionals. Our posts are not diagnostic or medical advice!”]

#🦇 :: on leather wings #an agony uncle speaks #they asked #did #osdd #did system #osdd system #actually did #actually plural #anti endo #anti tulpa #system #systems #dissociative identity disorder #otherwise specified dissociative disorder

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1990jeevas · 3 years

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Yo yo yo Please Rant to me about the hyperfixations you rarely talk about (idk what to ask about specific cause idk much about any of them but i wanna hear!)

i started answering this yesterday and then realized like half way thru that i did not have enough motivation to talk about that hyperfixation atm so sorry this is late lol

but, i will now be talking about...why i think shikamaru and choji should be boyfriends bc i have zero self control and think this topic should be discussed more.

uh, note first tho: i havent finished naruto and i basically only hyperfixated on arcs during the first half of the series, specifically like the chunin exams and the sasuke rescue arcs so if i get things wrong its bc i genuinely just dont fucking remember, dont know or could not care less about the rest of the series

also slight cw for mentions of canonical fatshaming!!

so, for starters, shikacho are supposed to be best friends but no other friends in this show act like them. literally none. not the girls, none of the other guys, you get the point!! and like. i think that's kinda gay. and i would like to discuss why they come off as gay sooooo let's fuckn go:

choji and shikamaru know each other better than anyone to the point where choji is able to predict whether or not shikamaru will cop out of a fight within the first few minutes of it starting. sure, this could be best bros behavior, but also every other relationship in this show, especially the romantic ones, have like. half the development that this one has, if not less, which is saying something considering shikamaru and choji are fucking background characters

shikamaru was chojis first friend and ever since then they've gotten into this thing of knowing what the other does and why kinda stuff?? not gonna elaborate bc this is like a consistent thing that is shown between them lol

shikamaru knows exactly what kind of fighter choji is and knows that he isn't outstanding and loses a lot but still trusts him entirely when they go into fights and depends on him heavily, even if it isnt technically the best idea

shikamaru is the only one who ever defends choji and will yell at people for calling him fat (they're very very reassuring with each other no matter what)

choji is one of the only people to ever realize shikamaru was really smart besides asuma (like before the chunin exams at least)

choji, when told by ino that girls won't like him bc he's fat and they never will, literally looks like he couldn't care less but when shikamaru starts praising him, telling him to just be himself, etc, he gets all blushy...homosexuality, if I do say so myself

shikamaru constantly praises choji on his skills even tho its known that 1) shika doesn't praise people easily and 2) choji isn't very skilled compared to like. most of their peers

shikamaru brings choji on missions even tho he's told by everyone he's dead weight. boyfriend culture my friends-

choji praises shikamaru for being smart constantly and says that without shika they'd be fucked throughout all of their exams. not necessarily gay, I'm just a sucker for bfs praising each other

also choji is the only one who acknowledges and respects shikamaru as a chunin on the mission to get back sasuke. everyone else is complaining and saying it's stupid that they have to follow someone like shikamaru and chojis just like we literally need to listen to him, he is the only one of us who knows what the fuck we're doing and how to do it, he is the only one of us with the fucking brains to pull this shit off, etc. and im like!!! choji!!!!!! we stan!!!!!!!!!!!

anyways theres most definetly more bc i havent finished this series or rewatched the shikacho parts in months but like. idk. i just think they should be shipped more and im pretty sure the main reason they arent is bc choji isnt the stereotypical hot anime boy, which is gross. like. they have the most chemistry out of everyone on that goddamn show but yall ain't gonna ship them bc you don't think chojis hot? weird ass mfers

#shit self #naruto #shikacho #asks #ik naruto wasnt one i mentioned in my post asking for asks but i just did not feel like discussing serious shit and most of the things i #mentioned were serious shows or st least needed tws and i just. am lazy. and tired lol #wanted to talk gay fluff so here #shikamaru nara #choji akimichi #info dump #bangerz

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forkanna · 3 years

Link

[AO3 LINK]

NOTES: Wow, that was quite a response to just reposting the prologue! Hopefully you all enjoy the rest of this fic as much as you've been anticipating it; I know it's been a lot of buildup to it, unintentionally I promise you. Here you go, better late than... well, you get it.

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

The next morning had been a hard one for Anna. School just felt strained and weird without knowing for sure where her mother was. Punz helped her through it, and she managed to do most of her classwork, but her mind kept wandering off.

Tomorrow was the earliest they could report her missing to the police. Of course, she had a feeling that it wouldn't matter one way or the other, but it was the strongest hope that she and her father had. Knowing what they knew about time travel, they had refrained from calling John or Wendy for the time being; she might come back.

She had to come back.

So when she walked into the living room after school and saw her mother sitting on the couch, looking quite weary but whole, safe, normal, she ran into her arms. It didn't even occur to her to ask about her father, or what she was doing there, or anything else. Need overrode curiosity.

"MOM! Oh my god… oh Mom, you completely freaked me out, I didn't know what happened!"

Elsa wrapped her arms around Anna, hugging back just as a tight as a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh spilled from her lips. "My angel… I'm so sorry for worrying you like that. Really."

Anna felt her eyes well with tears. She had been unwilling to truly face the idea that Elsa was truly gone, but seeing her here threw into sharp relief just how much she had been terrified. Her arms grew tired as she held on, but there was nothing that could make her let go. Not at this moment. Even the mere thought had her arms tightening their hold, squeezing just a little harder.

"Please don't leave again," she said softly. "Not- not without telling me first. Dad- Dad came home last night and we were gonna go to the cops and-"

"Shh…." Elsa hushed her, inhaling deeply. "I promise I'll never do that again without telling you. I'm so sorry, Anna."

Tearfully, Anna drew her head back, just enough so she could look in Elsa's eyes. "Where did you go? Did I… did I do something?"

Oh God. Elsa could see the forty-something version of her daughter, asking that same exact question. "No, no, baby. No you didn't do anything."

"But you just left me…" Anna's words, cracked and small, were also so heartfelt. So sincere in their pain that it made Elsa want to cry, too. How could she even have thought of giving this up? Of leaving the person who, truthfully, had become her entire world?

"I waited until the day your father would come home. That way, you wouldn't be without someone to… look out for your well-being, no matter what came to pass."

Clearing her throat and sniffling, Anna pulled back and gazed at her mother. "What… came to… Mom, what happened? Where did you go?"

"I was figuring some things out. Took a few weeks. And I've come to some decisions." She took a deep breath, then let it out very slowly before she took both of Anna's hands. "I'm not leaving you."

"Okay. I'm… b-but you made it sound like you… wanted to?"

"Not 'wanted'. But I thought it might be best." She released her hands. "However, there are going to have to be a few changes around here."

Still incredibly relieved at not losing her mother, Anna slumped downward. Then she said, "Okay, okay. You want me to stop hitting on you? Is that pretty much it?"

Elsa nodded slightly. "For now. I'm… willing to revisit that at a later date, but you have to promise me something. From now until you are in college, this stops. We have to learn to keep our hands to ourselves. It's going to be difficult, I know; we've already proven that it will be. But that's very important to me. You might technically be of age, but… you're my child, and you live in my house. There's no pretending that won't affect which of us has the power in a… in… well, in a romantic relationship."

"O-oh." Anna wasn't sure what to say. This sounded like bad news, but it also sounded like there was some good news attached. "But… what about when I'm in college?"

Only now did Elsa smile slightly. "Depends. I want you to really take this time to think hard about you and I. We both will. And we'll try our best to be a normal family. I'm never, ever going to stop loving you!" Her smile faltered slightly, and she looked away with red cheeks. "And if, once you're out on your own, not… being 'parented' by me, you still want to be something more than mother and daughter… we can try that. I know it's a long time-"

"Oh, Mom," she breathed, crushing her with her arms again, sore as they still were. "God! Of course, I… oh I'm sorry, I'm so dumb, I kept trying to… I d-don't know, I'm stupid, I'm so stupid!"

"Shhhhhh." It was soothing and sweet, and she kissed the crown of her head. Anna hummed a little through her tears, glad for the gentle gesture. "It's okay. Everything's okay, Anna; you're going to be just fine."

"B-but what if we try it, and I hurt you somehow? Make you sad th-that your daughter is… disgusting?"

"Don't ever think that. Even if I've been a little disgusted by your desires, by my own, that does not mean I think you are 'bad' or… or anything! And it never did. Do you hear me, sweetie? You'll always be my sweet Anna, whether or not I can handle you being my Tori at the same time. Always."

With renewed vigour, Anna hugged her mother so aggressively. Elsa returned the expression – and, where once she would have hesitated, now there was no sign of that reluctance. It was just what Anna needed.

"I should… really call Punz," she said finally. "Let her know what happened."

Elsa's lips quirked. "I should probably ring your father," she said. Still, neither of them moved. If anything, Anna seemed unable to stop herself pressing closer.

"What if… what if I can't?" she whispered. Even in that low tone, it was obvious she was scared – terrified – of something. "You want me to stop until college, but what if I can't? Or, if I slip up? Mom, I can't lose you just because my balls get ahead of my brain sometimes."

Squeezing tight for a second, Elsa chuckled and closed her eyes. "Accidents happen…" she began. It wasn't good enough.

"No! How can we trust that it would even be an accident when I want you so bad? It hurts, Mom!" Anna sniffled. "It hurts to have you so close sometimes when I want so much more but you… don't…"

"Anna, listen to me." Elsa had Anna's face clasped in her hands, giving her the ability to look directly into her eyes. "You have no idea how much I want you. But right now is the wrong moment. For you, for me… and sweetheart, you need to think of Punz, too. That girl adores you. And-" Elsa lowered her voice, though she smiled now, too. "I would love to be her mother one day, too. Well, mother-in-law."

"That still doesn't solve this problem," Anna said. Her words were monotone, but she felt herself blushing at Elsa's suggestion. It was easier to deflect than it was to think on the future and whether or not Punz would be part of hers.

"You're right. But I guess what I've realised is… this problem is not worth me leaving you behind. I want to work on it together. And if we slip up again, we will deal with it like adults. We aren't animals who have no willpower."

"Are you sure?" she asked with a weak laugh. "You came pretty close that morning."

At that, Elsa leaned in and whispered, "I really did. I was very close." The double meaning made Anna's cheeks grow yet rosier. "But I'm serious; I won't try that while I'm 'in charge' of you. That's not right. Even if we try to treat each other equally, we can't be equals until you're out on your own. And I'm not going to let you drop out of school or anything like that, before you ask," she warned.

"Damn, you caught me," Anna hissed, and Elsa chuckled. "Still Mom with your freakin' parenting chess moves, ten steps ahead. Man… that's so long, though."

"Is it? I know it seems that way to you, because you're young."

Sighing, Anna admitted, "Maybe not. And you're right, like… the past couple of weeks have been great! Not just the parts where we flirted, but everything. All three of us hanging out together was nice, too."

"See? We can make that work. And as I said, if I know you're making advances on purpose, then I will have to leave until you've graduated. Just for my own sanity, and to make sure I don't hurt you – and then I'll come back. But a few slip-ups here and there can be forgiven, Anna."

Anna's hand stroked up and down Elsa's side for a moment. Again, she didn't flinch away, but she started to look a little less comfortable, so Anna stopped. "Okay. I… don't really get the whole 'I can't be in charge while we're dating' thing, because like, you parenting me is totally separate. But I do trust you, Mom. So… so I can try it."

"Not as separate as it should be. But thank you, Anna," Elsa said honestly. She was smiling, too, so that was a good sign. "Now I really must contact your father." She got up and was halfway to the kitchen before Anna spoke.

"Hey, Mom?" she asked. Elsa turned.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

Suddenly, Anna felt very gun-shy and guilty. Like she was going to ask her mother for a treat after her father had already said no. "Can I ask a favour?"

"Of course!" Elsa turned more fully towards her daughter, and Anna felt her mouth grow dry. Just for a second, but it was more than enough, really.

Swallowing hard around a lump in her throat, Anna looked away. "Can I… have a kiss?"

Her mother answered with a sigh, but it was more weary than truly upset. "That would seem to defeat the purpose of giving us this dry period, wouldn't it? Unless you just mean a cheek-kiss."

"I didn't," she admitted readily. "Um… and I do kinda get what you mean? Cooling off to make sure this is what we really want, cause we can't put the toothpaste back in the tube. But like, I already did that. The past couple weeks were me trying not to feel things for you, and it didn't work. But if you want to try for longer…"

"I think, if a few more months go by and you still want me the way you did a couple of days ago, then it will prove that we're really intended to be that for each other. And if the feelings fade for you, then won't it be better that we never went too far? That we never… crossed the line that cannot be uncrossed?"

Anna was having trouble wrapping her mind around what Elsa was trying to get through to her. What would be the difference at this point? She already let her go down on her once before, even if it was her younger self and not this mother standing in front of her now. But she supposed there was probably some wisdom in this plan that she simply hadn't considered.

"Just tonight," Anna whispered very quietly. "Like, to get it out of my system. Then tomorrow, we can go back to 'Mom' and 'daughter' and all that, and… see where we end up when I go to college. And I know, I sound like an ungrateful brat, and it's demanding, a-and… I'm sorry. But I think it'll drive me nuts if I never get to touch you from now until I'm out of the house!"

"It's not a good idea, Anna." But she relented. "Fine. But you have to make all the moves. I already basically attacked you in 1985, and now that I really am your mother…"

That part, Anna could understand. Especially after she explained the whole 'being in charge' aspect; if she was worried about wielding power over Anna, she would give it all to her. Smiling, Anna placed her hands on Elsa's waist. "Just a kiss. Maybe it won't even feel right and we won't have to worry about anything more."

Both seemed to realise at the same moment how silly a thought that was. Anna could feel it already, that pull. Her mouth was no longer than dry – no, she was almost salivating at the thought of doing this again. Her cheeks warmed and her heart picked up, trotting in her chest as she took a step closer.

"Just a kiss," Elsa echoed, though her voice had suddenly lost its power.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Anna leaned forward. Elsa wasn't much taller than her – wasn't much taller than she had been in '85 – but still Anna missed. Her lips found Elsa's chin, and Elsa let out a snort of what could have been laughter.

Anna didn't correct herself upward, however. Contrarily, she moved away from Elsa's lips, grazing hers down to lave at her mother's throat.

"Anna…" Elsa tried. It was meant to be a warning, but instead it came out hoarse and throaty. A small noise slipped from Anna as she wrapped her hands more solidly around Elsa's waist. It was more of a hug now, and it had the side effect – intended or not – of bringing them even closer together.

Eyes sliding shut, Anna merely enjoyed the taste of her mother's skin. She felt gentle fingers tangling in her hair, and was prepared for when Elsa tugged her away. Even if it was a gentle distancing.

"This isn't quite what we agreed to," she sighed nervously. But she could see her mother was uncertain. Guilty. There had to be a way she could remove that guilt. What would make this woman she adored more comfortable with her how much she adored her?

"Elsa… you can call me 'Tori' tonight if you want," she murmured. "If that makes it easier. I could even dress up in 80s clothes or something? Like… since the whole problem is me being your daughter, I could be her instead."

At that, Elsa let out a soft laugh. "I didn't know we were doing an all-night affair. But… well…"

"Well?" Anna asked after a few seconds passed and her mother didn't finish the thought.

"I did ask Kristoff to get a hotel room. Give us space enough to figure things out." Anna drew back to see Elsa looking ashamed, but also smiling very slightly. "Not that this was what I had in mind. Just wanted to be prepared for any… eventuality."

For a few seconds, Anna had to suppress the tingles burbling up through her body. From very specific places. Elsa had planned for them to sleep together. Not as an intention, but a precaution – though that was still more than she had hoped lips pushed into Elsa's neck again, hearing a sigh. Then she whispered, "What if I just keep kissing? All over?"

"An- Tori," she corrected, and Anna smiled against her neck.

"You don't have to do anything back. I'm good. But… I want to try this out. See how far I can get before you need me to stop. Or before I need to stop."

"Let's just stick to kissing above the waist." When Anna pulled back to grin at her, head starting to duck downward, she hastily added, "Above the shoulders! Jesus Christ, how did I raise such an opportunist?"

"You didn't; the other Anna probably wasn't as bad as me. And she also wasn't as hot for you as me…" Knowing she was pushing her luck, she leaned up to whisper into Elsa's ear, "And I'm pretty hot for you right now."

Elsa let out a sharp breath that was probably covering something else. "Anna…" she tried one last time. This one felt breathier and needier than before, and Anna could feel the warmth pooling just below her navel.

"I just want you," Anna said softly. "To touch you… in whatever way you let me." Her hips rolled very slightly against Elsa's – not enough for any real friction, but certainly enough to give truth to her words. Elsa gave out another shuddering breath. "But for now, a kiss will do…"

And she did just that, sealing their lips together once more. Elsa sank down into it as if it were a warm bath, perhaps grateful that she no longer had to speak. It didn't really matter.

Slowly, Anna began to back away, leading them back to the couch. It seemed safer than heading for one of the bedrooms. It took Elsa a moment to realise what she was doing, but when she finally caught on she wasted no time in guiding Anna. Despite what she had said, she seemed to be a little less willing to stop now.

But finally they were seated, a strange parody of that moment in Doc's car. Anna had little doubt that she wanted to try paying her mother back for what she had done there, either. Hopefully Elsa felt the same.

Anna slipped her tongue between Elsa's lips, and she only groaned and accepted it with her own, leaning back until she was lying on the couch with Anna over her. Her arms never tightened around Anna, and she never gripped her shoulders; only laid her hands gently on her biceps. Seemed she was deadly serious about not making any 'moves', after all.

When they broke apart again, Anna's hips still grinding, Elsa warned her breathlessly, "This is… more than a kiss."

"Yeah. But hey… tonight is our night, huh? Like, the last one to be Tori and Elsa."

"It is. Even though we aren't going as far as you think we're going," she told her, resolve returning as she pointed a finger up at her.

"Right, I get it. So…" Biting her lip, she got up from the couch, leaving Elsa briefly confused. "Let's do it. Let's dress up."

What an adorable blush crept into the middle-aged woman's features. "Oh, you… were serious about that?"

Dancing backward a little, she said, "Remember that outfit I made you buy? The one that you said you wouldn't wear out of the house, short-shorts and crop top? You can put that on, and I'll find some stuff in my closet that makes me look really… different. Really Tori for you. And I'll change my hair, and wear the shoes from the dance!"

"Oooh," Elsa sighed at the mention of the shoes. Apparently, that was such a strong tie to the memory of going down on Anna that it instantly heated her up. Then she cleared her throat. "Well… I suppose it wouldn't hurt to simply look the parts. Might help create necessary boundaries."

She knew what her mother really meant; it would help assuage her guilt if they were recreating the past, instead of forging a new, sinful future. Clapping her hands, she started to head for the hallway. "You just wait! This is gonna be amazing!"

"I hope you're right," Elsa chuckled as she started to follow her. They were both going the same way, after all. "But I just wanted to reiterate..."

Hesitation. So she prompted, "What?"

"No matter what happens… I'm always going to love you. That was never in danger at any point, Anna."

"I know. Don't worry, we got this. Promise-promise."

"Now, that sounds familiar..."

Anna had no way of knowing what Elsa meant; she hadn't said it yet, after all. But she was all smiles as she retreated to her room with glee, only sparing Elsa one last glance over her shoulder to see her mother was standing in the doorway to her own room with a bemused smile on her blushing features.

Still so beautiful.

To Be Continued…

#Fractal The Future #elsanna fanfiction #Back to the Future #forkanna writes #fruipit #elsanna #jess the writer

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welllpthisishappening · 3 years

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Hello there, I see you're back on blue-line drabbles! I love them, I am obsessed with this universe. I don't know if I ever came back to say hi after I read all your big fics, but somehow I liked each even better than the last! I don't know how that's possible! But anyway, I think one of the best signs of a good writer/good story is when you're not ready to leave the world once you've finished, and Blue Line is one of the few fanfics I've read where even well after I've finished it, (cont)

(cont) I want to keep living in it and I end up writing my own fic of it in my head (strange, I know). Anyway, for whatever reason, I got really invested in Roland and Lizzie's relationship. Like, how did they end up dating after knowing each other for literally Lizzie's entire life? How did the adults react? Do you have any Lizzie/Roland stories up your sleeve? They would not go unread :)

————

Hello, yes, listen, this ask has lived rent free™ in my head since I first got it and I cannot properly convey how absolutely, goddamn wonderful it is. I am a broken record of outdated references , but it continues and will always amaze me that people are not only interested in Blue Line (more than three years!!! after I originally started posting) but are also interested in other characters in the story who are, for all intents and purposes, original characters at this point. Like the overall size my heart becomes when reading something like that could potentially cause a serious medical condition.

But, like, in a nice way.

So thank you, thank you, thank you. It genuinely warms the cockles of my entire soul. And, like, if you wanna share those fic ideas of the fic, you’ll never hear me say no. Just like I will never turn down the opportunity to write more stuff. Which is what’s under the cut. This stuff includes:

Roland and Lizzie’s first kiss, what I hope is some legitimate banter, more kissing, obvious flirting, and Roland being something of a sap.

Also, uh, it’s entirely possible that I have also already written: Roland and Lizzie’s first “I love you,” their wedding and some other stuff where their kid is involved. Seriously, guys, I am always down to write other relationships in this ‘verse.

————

It was, she figured, something almost passably close to, sort of resembling, definitely inching somewhere nearer to—

Assured.

Unavoidable.

Inexorable

Inevitable.

That was a bad word. That last word. The third one was pretty impressive, honestly. Vocabulary, wise. She’d have to remember that one later. The last one, though. Made teeth Lizzie wasn’t even aware she possessed ache as she ground them together, a pronounced tension in her jaw that was likely affecting her shoulders as well. That word. An awful word. Boasted less-than-positive connotations, letters practically dripping with lack of self-control and overtly aggressive infatuation, but if the world expected her not to be a little in love with Roland Locksley by the time she turned fourteen and noticed that slight indentation in his right cheek every time he smiled, well, then the world had another thing coming.

Dimple, that was the appropriate description. Another word. More words. Too many words. All of them bouncing off the slope of her skull and scratching at the back of her brain, nearly distracting her from what should have been the very pleasant buzz lingering beneath whatever biological thing made up her top and bottom lips.

Which were parted in an emotion very similar to overwhelming surprise.

That was stupid.

The whole thing was stupid. God, maybe she was stupid. No, that wasn’t true. She’d made Dean’s List last semester. Stupid was—

A stupid word, really. Despite the blush rising in her cheeks and the wide eyes practically boring into her soul, bated breath that didn’t make any noise because that was what bated entailed, and no one else glanced in their direction. Not once. No one else noticed.

That the whole world had flipped upside down.

Or right-side-up, maybe. Depending on how the next five minutes or so went.

Because the last two minutes and twelve seconds, give or take, had seen Roland Locksley tilt his head and let his eyes flutter closed before his mouth found hers for the very first time — at midnight for God’s sake. On New Year’s Eve. Or New Year’s Day, she supposed. His parents were standing on the other side of the room.

Suggesting that Lizzie had ever been just a little in love with Roland was a rather monumental lie.

As far as those things went.

“So, uh—” she started, only to find blood in her mouth. From her teeth. Wayward and unpredictable, as they were. Biting down on the side of her tongue and Lizzie hated going to the dentist. Doing irreparable damage to her teeth on what was now legitimately New Year’s Day, in the middle of an annual party, was not on her schedule.

Metaphorical as it might have been.

She liked schedules. Had plans. Focus, even. People always said that about her — how focused she was, liked to throw around the word drive with startling regularity, as if they were amazed she wasn’t simply willing to rest on her laurels or the pair of last names she proudly toted around with her. As if Lizzie expected doors to swing open on a glance.

Rather than consistently preparing herself to knock them down.

She liked the challenge of it all. Appreciated the way disbelief always spiked something in her blood, and that was likely equal parts genetic predisposition and a product of her childhood, but right now, Lizzie was simply prepared to fight for the schedule she’d never allowed herself to mention to anyone else before and it wasn’t like they weren’t friends.

Talked outside the group chat, even.

That meant something. Definitely meant something. Had to mean something. Her lips felt like they’d been doused in liquid nitrogen.

She didn’t know all the scientific properties of liquid nitrogen, but it always made that rather impressive cloud of steam-type stuff on cooking shows. So, it seemed very likely that it did something similar to cause whatever was happening in the region directly surrounding her mouth. Buzzing and tingling, and whatnot.

When had Roland last blinked? Lizzie couldn’t remember. That would have been impressive in any other situation. Right now, it was sort, kind of, totally— Pissing her off.

Color dotted his cheeks, no sign of the goddamn dimple because he wasn’t smiling, presumably couldn’t do that when it was clear he was so intent on pulling his lips into his mouth, and that felt a little insulting. Her tongue had just been in that mouth.

Lizzie was fairly confident in the abilities of her tongue, so she wasn’t all that pleased to be replaced by a pair of lips that could have been doing much better work against the side of her neck.

“If you sit here right now and tell me that you are,” Lizzie lifted a finger, “one, sorry,” another finger, “two, anything even remotely resembling regretful,” another finger, wiggling close enough to Roland’s nose to make him just a bit cross-eyed, “or, three, too old for me, I will throw my heel at that bruise I know exists on the back of your left calf.”

His lips twitched.

He really had impossible eyelashes. Seemingly made so he could glance up from underneath them, to meet Lizzie’s steely expression with what she refused to believe could be cautious hope. Passable optimism, maybe. She’d have to look up what liquid nitrogen did, later.

“I’m standing.” “I hate you.”

“You wanna go in order, or how do you want to work this?” “Where else are you bruised?” Roland laughed softly, a shift of his shoulders and tiny burst of air between barely parted lips. Feeling that tiny burst meant they were standing very close to each other. How they were standing remained another mystery.

One of those great ones, Lizzie figured. The kind referenced when people talked about the sweeping potential of life and love and— Ah, fuck.

“Please don’t threaten to attack me anywhere else,” he muttered, before quickly adding, “you gotta know this was not my end game, Liza.” Narrowing her eyes did nothing to temper the…tempest. Swirling in her gut. Threatening the back of her throat. Eating away at vocal cords and vocal boxes and the structural integrity of her entire goddamn larynx. Possibly her tongue, too, just to be especially efficient.

“Really? Might’a been mine, actually.”

She’d always liked his eyes.

How they could widen, and it wasn’t like...a normal brown. Nothing about the way he looked was ever dull. Drifted toward regularly excited, and the sparkles were probably a figment of her over-active teenage imagination, but Lizzie liked to think sometimes the sparkle came from her. Because of her, even. When she’d call because he always wanted to hear about her latest lecture and he’d call because sometimes Western swings were exhausting and loneliness-inducing and—

She knew.

He knew.

They knew each other.

Grand scheme, the sparkle-prone eyes still weren’t particularly close to the dimple. On the list of things Lizzie liked. What left butterflies fluttering in her stomach and her heart hammering against her chest. Sparkle was probably a solid fourth. Behind the precise way his curls fell toward his eyebrows when he didn’t have time to get his hair cut. Which rarely happened during the season. Right now, it was happening right now. Well-defined strands that Lizzie knew felt even smoother than she’d ever theorized between her fingers, and she wasn’t sure what she was going to do with that information.

Obsess over it, probably.

For at least the next week, or so.

Still. Eyes. Eyelashes. Too long and too bright, and that was the wrong description order and she was starting to teeter. On the edge of a rather dramatic free-fall. Into feelings and possibility, and this was way too dramatic. For both of them.

“Don’t do that,” she mumbled, a scrunch of her nose that apparently demanded his thumb. Brushing against the bridge, and there wasn’t any caution there. No obvious fear or concern. For the way it left Lizzie’s lungs pinched, and there must have been a limit.

To everything her internal organs could cope with in a limited span of time.

“What was the last one on the list?” She swallowed. “Too old.” “Yuh-huh.” “Pretty flimsy as far as excuses go. You realize I’m not asking you to marry me right now, right?” He choked. On what, she wasn’t entirely sure. Only that it made her stomach heave and her teeth dig into her lower lip, and that was— “Because I know I said, end game,” Lizzie continued, giving in to the need to fill empty space with the sound of her own voice, “but that sounds like several pop culture references all at once, and you know how much I—”

“Hate to come across as disingenuous.” “Mattie’s the pop culture reference machine, anyway.” “Please don’t talk about Matt when I keep thinking about how much I want to kiss you again.” Her eyes, that time. Widened. Bugged. Did something unnatural. “Yeah?” “You’re kidding me, right?” “You’re not an old man.” Rolling his eyes, Roland’s tongue dragged across the front of his teeth. To torture her, apparently. “I was in college when you were a freshman in high school.” “Yuh-huh.” “Liza.” “Nah, nah,” Lizzie shook her head. Crossed her arms. Tried to stand up to her full height, but even the heels didn’t do much to add to the overall intimidation factor. Roland was doing an awful job of fighting off his smile. “Pulling out ancient nicknames is not—” “—It’s not a nickname; it’s literally letters in your name.” “Nick,” she leaned forward, “name. All personal-like.”

Making mistakes was not something she enjoyed very much. It was that Jones competitive streak. Plus, the Vankald stubborn streak. Created a monster of determination, who knew what she wanted, and feeling Roland’s fingers graze her cheek as a strand of hair hung limply in the minimal space between them was the result of Lizzie’s mistaken movement.

Even as much as she might have wanted it.

Goosebumps prickled her arms. Stole whatever oxygen she’d managed to get in the last forty-six seconds, or so. Her eyes fluttered. Head tilted. Towards the touch and the warmth, and for someone who spent so much time on the ice, he really was impossibly warm.

“This is your fault.”

He didn’t move his fingers. Cupped her cheek, instead. “You were doing that eyebrow thing.” “Expand on that for me.” “Lifting ‘em. Happens sometimes. When you’re listening intently. Like you’re a little amazed by new information. They’re these stupid little arches on your face. Drives me nuts.” “The compliment was in there somewhere, I’m sure of it.” “I am so much older than you, Liza.” “Shouldn’t’a played out a bunch of teenage daydreams at once, then.” She was legitimately worried about the state of his tongue. Barely biting back her laugh, Lizzie let her eyes lift. To find Roland gaping at her, drooped shoulders and puppy-dog eyes. And that goddamn dimple. “C’mon, this isn’t...do you think I haven’t made out with people before?” “Wouldn’t classify what we just did as a makeout.” “No?” His eyes darkened. Shivering was probably not a good move, right? Right. Definitely. She wasn’t shivering. It was just...January. And inside. With dozens of people around them. “I would not, no,” Roland said, and the drop in overall volume was some sort of trick. Or, something.

“How many people do you think you’ve made out with? Ballpark it for me.” “No.” “Is the issue a lack of appropriate numbers to tally that mark, or—” She bit her tongue, again. At the flash of amused frustration sweeping his face and polluting the molecules of whatever air was hovering between them. Permeating was a better word. Lizzie really needed to work on all of that. Words. Being slightly less jealous of potential make outs that didn’t have anything to do with her and definitely happened because there had to be other people out there in the world who simply could not cope with the existence of that dimple.

“How many people have you made out with, then?” “Scores,” Lizzie snarled, only to get immediately scoffed at. “I’m really, incredibly popular.” “Oh, I’ve got no doubt.” “Boatloads of guys. Lining up to,” she pointed an imperious finger at her mouth, “make out with this.” “Your well-defined chin?” “I’m going to take my shoe off.” “Draw attention with a move like that.” Whatever fight she had didn’t immediately die. It just, sort of, fell. At her feet, threatening all the bones there and there were too many. All of them far too fragile. For whatever metaphor she was running with at the moment. “And we’re not trying to do that, huh? Draw attention.” “Shouldn’t you be out sowing wild oats?” “Really know how to charm a girl,” she grumbled, and that got her a smile. No scoff. Not even the hint of a smile. The whiplash was hurting her neck. “Trust me, the oats have appropriately sowed. If I was ever particularly inclined to farm work.” “I’m starting to be vaguely embarrassed by all of this.” “Good.” Wasn’t quite a scoff. Was more like a half-hearted laugh, and a tinge of desire and that was better than the other emotions, but the decreasing level of Roland’s eyebrows gave her pause. “What about the status of your oats?”

“Well sowed, rookie season,” Roland said.

“You’re going to change the name on your jersey.” “Not sure that particular fact has a lot to do with anything else. Seven years, Liza.” “I’m perfectly capable of doing math, you know I took that stats class once.” “Because I double checked everything you turned in.” “Makes you slightly less of an idiot than the vibe you're giving off right now.” “A freeway or compliments.” Pulling in a deep inhale through her nose, Lizzie didn’t miss the way Roland’s gaze fell. To the neckline of her dress, lingering on the jut of her collarbones for a few seconds longer than a strictly platonic friendship should allow, and they were friends. Still. She knew that as well as she knew that he believed she thought he was simply being clever with nicknames.

And not making vaguely incorrect My Fair Lady references.

Because he’d always been a little annoyed that Eliza had gone back to Henry Higgins. Instead of Freddie.

It was really impossible not to be a little in love with him at all times.

“You’re really going to hyphenate?” Roland nodded. “Think of all the new jerseys they’ll sell.” “By the box-load, and Gina’s gonna buy the entire stock. She’s—that’s really nice, you know.” “Just a fact. Little late, but—” He shrugged. Lizzie’s smile threatened to split her face. In that same nice way, she’d been talking about. Her lips were still buzzing. She might have been buzzing. With adrenaline. Happiness. The near-desperate desire to find some type of closet and get her fingers back in Roland’s questionably long hair.

“Of naming conventions.” She couldn’t begin to guess what the record was for shoulder shifts in an emotionally charged conversation between two people who were simultaneously ignoring the point of the conversation, but Lizzie also knew her eyebrows had been halfway up her face as he’d detailed the reasons for making his jersey say Mills-Locksley. From here on out.

Maybe that was the top of the list, actually.

He was a good guy.

Had always been a good guy. The best guy, really.

Falling into that chasm wasn’t nearly as terrifying as Lizzie expected it to be.

“Why’d you do it?” Roland’s lips disappeared. His tongue moved, again. She was staring at the area around his tongue. So, like, his mouth. Directly at his mouth. “Because, I uh—have wanted to?” “Oh, don’t phrase that like a question.” “Wanted to,” he repeated, a statement of fact with a certain amount of conviction. Enough to make Lizzie’s pulse sputter. “Which is kind of freaking me out.” “Come back with more compliments.” “Your dress nearly made me fall over.” “Better, actually,” she laughed.

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Made sense at the time.” “Be more specific.” “Kissing you,” Roland said, enough emphasis that he leaned forward half an inch as well. It was a miracle their noses didn’t collide. Not the most impressive miracle, but—counted. “If I tell you that you might be my best friend does that make the lamest professional hockey player alive?” “Yes, absolutely.” “Matt might challenge you to a duel if he hears me talking like this, you know.” “God, Locksley, didn’t we just talk about the Mattie rules? Also, that made it sound like Mattie wants to kiss you too, so...”

He chuckled. Fingers still tugging on the back of his hair, like he was trying to ground himself in the pull and the self-inflicted tension, Roland looked up. Back at her. And Lizzie didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Held her position and prepared herself to defend the schedule she’d only ever allowed herself to hope for in the silence of that one corner in her brain.

Filled, as it was, with memories. Of conversations that didn’t have anything to do with hockey. Others that did. Arguing over blue line placement in the brownstone and college rankings. Of movies watched on two different laptops in different corners of the country, bad jokes, and consistent updates, that deep-rooted understanding that came from a life full of expectations and the exact opposite. No overt pressure, but the need to prove yourself anyway, if only because of the name on the back of the jersey, and Lizzie was going to have to buy a new jersey.

“You like me? Yes, or no?” Roland smiled. Wide and honest, the kind that ensured the dimple was on prominent display. “Yes.” “I am a grown adult? Yes, or no?” Crinkles appeared around his eyes. From the smile.

“Yes.” “Meaning I get to make my own choices. Romantically, or otherwise. Yes, or no?” “Obviously.” “Wasn’t one of the options.” “Yes,” Roland corrected, fingers trailing over the bend of her elbow. Lizzie hadn’t uncrossed her arms. Or remembered when she’d crossed them in the first place.

“Ok, good. Same page, then.” “Liza.” “Locksley.” Lifting her eyebrows wasn’t a challenge, per se. Was closer to instinct, really. Specifics didn’t matter, honestly. She did that thing with her eyebrows, and he did that thing with his mouth, the same one she was staring at and hoping would move closer to her, and then—

Well, it did.

Hands found Lizzie’s hips, pulling her forward sharply enough that she let out a soft grunt. From the feel of hips bumping against hers, and she honestly wasn’t sure who hissed in their next inhale, only that it did something to the flutter-like state of her pulse and the erratic nature of her heart, and it was slow and fast and good and great and not a single person noticed.

Miracles were arriving en masse, apparently.

Pushing her fingers into Roland’s hair got Lizzie another hum of approval, the first brush of his tongue making her lips part and her head fall to the side, but then his hand was wrapped around the back of her neck, and she could not be expected to pay attention to anything except the semi-consistent swipe of his thumb against her skin. It left more goosebumps. Caused another chuckle, the kind that rumbled through her and resonated around her, a tiny bubble of that same cautious optimism from before.

Like a spark.

Fanning flames and threatening to burn everything because if this didn’t work, then Lizzie wasn’t sure what would, and that was scary and overwhelming and terrifying was a synonym, but she really was working with very limited word-based resources when Roland’s thumb kept moving. Tracing her. Committing the feel to memory, and she wasn’t sure when they’d established the rocking pattern they were moving in, but something deep in the center of her trusted it.

Someone who regularly strapped knives to his feet and raced around at top speed knew how to stay balanced. And she was a stubborn idiot. Who got what she wanted.

“Is part of liking me because I told you I didn’t think it was embarrassing that you still got a little emotional about Miracle on 34th Street?” Laughter pushed past her lips. Took root in the pit of her stomach and the spaces between her ribs. Laced through her heart. In the kind of way that cemented itself. Right in the middle of Lizzie. Right in the middle of this. Them.

There was a them, now.

“Was definitely a factor, yeah,” Roland said, not bothering to pull away. “You, uh—you snuck up on me a little, Liza.” “Peak romance.” “Want me to talk about your dress some more?” She shook her head. “Unnecessary. And you didn’t.” “That might be part of the problem.” “Nursing old crushes, you mean?” Her hair hit her cheek. And his hand. He couldn’t seem to let go of her. “Nah, this wasn’t like...there was no torch, not really. I—I wasn’t hanging posters of you on my wall if that’s the picture you’ve painted for yourself.” “Kinda disappointing, admittedly.” “Pick a lane, babe.” No sparkle, that time. Just flash and want and the very thin line Lizzie’s lips had become. “Be more specific,” Roland repeated softly. “You’re not standing on a pedestal. Just you, Rol, as is.” He waited. That was fair. There should have been more. Should have been a detailed list of all the reasons the grown-up version of her liked so many parts of the grown-up version of him, but that all felt a little extraneous when she was still thinking about closet-type possibilities and that stubborn streak was a mile wide, anyway.

Roland nodded once. “Good.”

Both of them jumped. At the pop of another champagne bottle and Lizzie never understood how Regina managed to order so much champagne every year, but she felt a bit like she was floating on the bubbles, and they didn’t decide. Explicitly. To keep the whole thing—

Secret.

Another bad word. With bad connotations and shadows that clung to the definition, but this was them and only them and, for right now, that was enough. And if no one noticed the way Roland’s hand drifted over the small of Lizzie’s back during David’s speech, then that was a miracle she was willing to accept.

#blue line rambles #blue line one shots #these really are just original characters at this point #i have also written:#matt and claire meeting for the first time #henry and ella meeting for the first time #stuff about peggy and jeremy humbert #and i've got a whole list of will x belle stuff #in case it wasn't ovbious people still aren't responding to my emails #oh! also roland and lizzie's engagement #i wrote that too #also if you are so inclined: wilder days by morgan wade played like four times while i wrote this #mylifeisalifestyle #laura rambles

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trashcatsnark · 3 years

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I recently found you through all of your silverv posts (which are amazing by the way!) and I was wondering, how does Aidan handle not being able to hear Johnny in her head after they seperate and get him his own body (because yes it's canon, we don't accept any other endings here). I imagine it would be hard for her as she got used to not having to use her hearing aids to hear him.

Ahhhhhh!!!!! Thank you so much for enjoying my posts and also thank you so much for asking about my V, I often worry a lot I bring Aidan up too much in response to things because I have absolute brainrot for my oc babies. So, thank you so much for giving me excuse.

But in regards to that; Aidan hates it and she hates that she hates it. For so much of her life, silence was her comfort. Despite all losing her hearing put her through when it comes to her Nomad “family”, it gifted her this way to shut the world out when it becomes too much. It gave her a wall she could always put up when she was tired of the world and the people in it. She didn’t have hearing aids for years following the loss of her hearing and the first time she was given them and put them in; she cried and ripped them out, because the world was too fucking loud. Even as she’s gotten use to them, she maintains them on low volume. The world has always had a mute button and volume control, which she likes. Her deafness isolated and othered her among her clan, but she learned to use it to grant herself peace as well. She prefers more often than not to be without them, nothing better after a long day of bullshit, to put the world on mute and to be left to her own silent little world.

Then Johnny comes in and he gets through that, barges his way into her peace and destroys the silence of her little world. The one person she can’t mute and he’s also someone who never shuts up. And in the early stages, even past his initial...first impression, he is at times entirely too much. And it feels as if something has been taken from her (and tbf a lot has been taken from her) her peace, her tranquility, her little quiet world where she could just breathe and be is gone because this stupid yelling old man had to set up shop in her brain.

But time goes on, communication gets better, relationship gets better, Johnny starts to grow, she starts to grow and he’s no longer an intruder in her little world but apart of it. It’s now their little word where only they exist, they only hear one another, only communicate with one another, just them, a world no one else can really intrude on. And that becomes her new sense of peace and comfort, Johnny does (Though she’d never word it that way, cause it sounds needy and dependent and lovey dovey, but he’s become her comfort and peace)

And then everything changes, as it so often does, and woohoo everything’s fixed, but now Johnny’s voice is something she can’t hear no matter what anymore. And she hates it so much, because now she’s forced to hear everything else always if she also wants to hear Johnny and she always wants to hear Johnny. Now that she wants to hear him, no matter what, she can’t. It hardly seems fair. And she hates how needy and desperate and clingy it sounds, but god the world doesn’t feel right when she can’t hear him. The first time he talks to her afterwards and she has hearing aids out, she realizes she can’t hear him, she nearly wants to cry. She always wore her “weakness” like armor, used it to protect herself after others used it to hurt her, used the barrier it provided to stay safe; but she doesn’t want that between her and Johnny, she doesn’t need it with Johnny.

For a long long while, she’ll be wearing her hearing aids more than she ever did before. Because she doesn’t wanna miss out on hearing him, doesn’t want to ever be without his voice. Once upon a time she yoinked them out as soon as she got home, but now she’s falling asleep with them in, because she wants to listen to him as she drifts off. But, hearing aids aren’t comfortable to wear 24/7, they can itch and irritate after so long and rub the skin raw. And she’ll try to pretend like that isn’t happening, because she knows she’ll be nagged about taking them out for a while. But, Johnny lived in her head, he knows what’s happening, catches her rubbing and itching at her ears more, starts to see them getting redder. And he’s telling her gently, you need to take them out and she’ll pout even though she knows he’s right. So, she starts to limit her time using them as much as she hates being without his voice...being without any part of him really.

If she’s truly frustrated and desperate and upset, she may even entertain the idea of getting cochlear implants, something she was always sternly against. And Johnny does his best not to get mad when he learns that because he knows it’ll be her choice at the end of the day, but if she only is thinking of it because of him, that’s not right and a huge thing to do because spoiler alert, you’ll be taking away your volume control and mute button. And Johnny knows what happens when she gets overwhelmed and overstimulated by noise, he doesn’t want her putting herself through that daily just to hear him.

And like with anything it takes time to adjust and grow used to it. Growing pains of both her and Johnny completing forgetting she can’t hear him without them. So, he’ll talk about something extensively or call her name or start to kind of sing a new tune that just popped in his head and be like “why is she ignoring me? did I do something wrong? did i forget something? did I fuck up?” and then see her hearing aids on the bed side table and be like “oh thank fuck, i thought I was in trouble.” Or because she sometimes even spoke out loud to him as an engram, she’ll start a conversation or ask him something, not hear the answer and be like “oh...right...”

And eventually can accept, well maybe without her hearing aids she can’t hear him but she can hold him, feel him, lay her head on his chest and feel the rise and fall of his breaths, if he hums while she’s like that she can feel the reverberation and vibration of it in her chest, when she lays on him she can feel it when he talks even if she can’t hear it (sometimes she wonders if he just makes up nonsense to say or what he may say in those moments since he knows she wont hear, he never explains and she’s still deciding if she wants to hide a recorder somewhere in the apartment to find out later) She slowly becomes comforted and okay with the fact that while she doesn’t have him the way she did before, she does have him and that alone is more than enough.

I also like the idea that there’s bleed over between Johnny and V following separation, things that stuck from the other person. Because, you can’t fuse, be separated and it be a clean perfect divide. You can’t blend red and blue then be surprised when you get purple. They leave traces of one another behind. And with my V, I like the idea that Johnny ends up with some sign language knowledge. Not fluent afterwards but she’ll catch him absent mindedly throwing an asl sign in with his usual hand gestures, which he didn’t even know he knew. And from there, he takes to actually learning it fully because while lip reading tech is way better in 2077, its still not always perfect and he knows her well enough to know how much she just appreciates people making that effort for her. He’s never quite perfect at it, because he has a habit of talking with his hands already and using a lot of hand gestures, so sometimes he’s trying to sign but instinctively does his own little hand motion. Hand talking is a habit he can’t really break and, quite frankly, Aidan doesn’t expect nor want him too. She still understands it fine, because after being brain roomates she understands him in most situations, and affectionately calls it Johnny Sign Language.

Eventually, its just normal life and she’s not even afraid to use it to joke around and be a shit head, or avoid his nagging at times, because how could she not.

Johnny: So-

Aidan: Wait, is this about Arasaka, again?

Johnny: Yeah, but-

Aidan: *pulls out hearing aids while maintaining direct eye contact*

Though even so far into it, there will be real bad days, just days where her brain is not kind to her, where she’s struggling with the weight of all she’s endured, when she just needs all of him; needs to hear and feel him, needs to feel like he’s all hers again, like they’re in their own world and nothing else matters, a bubble where only he exists to her, so she’ll insist on wearing her hearing aids to bed, laying on his chest, volume on low so she can only really hear him, and having him talk to her about anything and everything, and once she’s fallen asleep he has to gently take them out and lay them on the bed side table for her.

Also also, I didn’t get as into it, because this is already long as fucccck because i could talk about my ocs for actual years, but I also think Johnny struggles with feeling less special when suddenly she needs hearing aids to hear him. Because he kind of being the possessive man he is liked that there were times when he was all she could hear and that meant all the focus was on him. And now he’s just another person she can shut out if she chooses to do so.

oKAY SHUTTING UP NOW AND THANKS SO MUCH FOR LETTING ME SCREAM FOR THREE YEARS

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #johnny silverhand #silverv #female v #aidan becker #aidan v becker #SERIOUSLY THANK YOU SO MUCH AS YOU CAN SEE I REALLY HAVE MASSIVE BRAIN ROT FOR MY OC #THIS WAS REALLY FUN TO GET A CHANCE TO RAMBLE ABOUT THANK YOUUU #seraphfighter

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